Tumgik
#but sometimes i do look back on like my opening lines and i'm like oh that was way more judgmental and coming from my own biases
truecorvid · 2 months
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starting to suspect that i am not very good at engaging in open/honest/non judgmental conversations on the internet actually
#teeth.txt#i try to be a lot of the time like#idk#but sometimes i do look back on like my opening lines and i'm like oh that was way more judgmental and coming from my own biases#than i originally thought/meant it to be#oops.#i think i need to actually ban myself from saying anything in any comment section ever#my communication style is not meant for it. even though i feel like it is and i'm explaining myself reasonably#it always seems to put people on the defensive#mostly because the types of interactions im talking about are like#contradicting the original statement that op made or whatever#so inherently that's gonna throw up defenses#but i don't think i'm actually ever helping with that and#perhaps i should actually just crawl into a cave and never speak to anyone ever again. maybe.#and i always make myself look like an idiot too. idk. internet comments are where productive conversations go to die#but also it's my fault and nobody else has ever had this issue ever#anyways turns out you actually can't just explain yourself betterer and betterer and make everyone understand what you're saying#or understand what everyone else is saying and where they're coming from#idk i just feel like out of the 3? ish internet 'arguments' i've gotten into in recent memory#all of them have ended with me a) getting stressed out by them and b) eventually disengaging completely#with no resolution and both sides just knuckling down in their beliefs#not good.#whatever i'll just try to get better at this in real life where it actually matters and i can better tell if someone is engaging#in good faith/an honest desire to have a conversation#ughhhhhh#also sorry everyone u get me talking on this app here way more because i can't talk to my bf rn. lol
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lymtw · 3 months
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Toji can never shut up about you when his friends get him drunk. It's the one topic that never fails to be discussed when his friends manage to drag him away from your warm security for a night. Once the amount of alcohol he drank starts to hit and his overly chatty side is lured out, he spends the entire time talking about you, and the others just kind of listen to his ramblings and remain utterly shocked by how smitten he is. He talks so much about you, like he's trying to make up for the time he isn't spending with you.
It's always, "Shh... listen, shut the fuck up. Listen, listen, she smells so fucking good. Like she's fresh out the shower all the time" and "God... she purrs like a little kitten when I take her to bed" and "She's out of my league, but i'm not gonna fuck up the chance she gave me".
If it weren't for Shiu taking his phone, he would constantly be trying to reach you. Sometimes you're the one who calls when it gets late, just to see how things are going, and Shiu's always the one who picks up before he hands you over to Toji.
"Hey, Shiu! How is everything?"
"It's going pretty well, aside from Toji being a drunk mess." He scouts the area in search of your boyfriend and spots him next to another friend. Toji's all starry-eyed as he talks the poor man's ear off about you. "Wanna talk to him? He's been talking about you nonstop and it's starting to make the other guys jealous."
You giggle. "Sure. Let me talk to my idiot."
You can hear the commotion as well as the faint sound of Shiu alerting Toji of you being on the other end of the line.
"Heyyy, baby. You miss me? You need me?" You can hear the smile on his face. He's pacing back and forth as he waits for your voice to come back on the line.
The sound of Toji's voice makes your heart beat a little faster. It sounds like he made good use of his night out.
"You know I do, baby. Be safe, alright? Have Shiu send you home in a cab when you're ready to go and text me when you get home."
"I love you, ma. I fucking love you. I don't wanna be here anymore." He sighs, heavily. "Can I just go home, already? I've been trapped here for like five days now."
"I love you, Toji, and it hasn't been five days. More like five hours, but yeah, you can head home if you're done. Put Shiu back on the phone."
"No." He simply says, as he continues to pace around the crowded bar. "I miss you so much. I don't wanna see anyone else, anymore."
"Okay, baby. Tell Shiu you're ready to go. I'll see you tomorrow."
"I love you," he says once more before putting the phone down, leaving you to do the hanging up.
"Shiu, i'm leaving. I'm ready to go, man. She said okay and I... Well, I wanna go see her."
"You're not going over there like this," Shiu responds. "She's not gonna be able to handle you alone, right now. I'll call you a cab and you're going straight home."
He was so wrong about that last part. Toji got in the cab, and Shiu told the driver his address. He wouldn't ever find out about how Toji ended up redirecting the cab to your place.
"Psst, hey. I'll give you another ten bucks if you turn around and go to this address."
Without hesitation, the man accepted the money and dropped Toji off at your apartment. He slowly made his way to your front door, ringing the doorbell and knocking right after to make sure you hear him.
You put down the dish rag you were using to dry dishes and headed to the door. You looked through the peephole and as soon as you see Toji standing on your doorstep, you gasp. Your brows furrow in confusion as you continue to stare at him for couple more seconds, just to make sure it's actually him and not some random, sketchy man.
"Babyyy... Open. Your boyfriend is here." He knocks again, his fist like a mallet on your door.
"Toji, shh. Stop," you say, voice low. You quickly pull him into your apartment, dismissing his laugh as you shut and lock the door when you both make it in.
"Oh, baby." He smiles as you approach him again. "Baby, baby." He pulls you into an overly tight embrace and sways you side to side, effortlessly. You smell a mixture of alcohol and cologne on his shirt. "My pretty girl. Fuck, I missed you and your body." He buries his face into the crook of your neck and allows his hands to settle on your lower back. You hear him take a whiff of your scent before carrying on with his rambling. "I didn't even wanna be there..." he mumbles. "...but they stole me away and I-" He hums in confusion when he realizes you aren't reciprocating the hug and pulls your arms around him before putting his hands on your lower back again. "I'm just gonna say no next time. Those drinks were disgusting."
Normally, you reciprocating his affection wouldn't be an issue, but you're still stuck on how he's there, standing a couple feet from your kitchen and not at his place. You can hear his quiet, labored breaths beside your ear. His looming frame and the tightness of his arms around you bring a lot more reality to the situation.
"Let's get you ready for bed, okay?" You say to the giant who threatens to tip you over. You gently tug at his arms for him to release you and create some distance.
You take his hand and guide him to the bathroom first, where both of you do your nightly routines of brushing your teeth and washing your faces. He made a mess with the water when it came to washing the cleanser off his face, but you paid no mind to it as you grabbed a towel and dried it up.
You walked out of the bathroom and Toji was hot on your trail, toothbrush still in his mouth as he followed you into the kitchen. "I'm just grabbing some water. It'll just take a quick second." You smile as he continues to sluggishly brush his teeth. He pauses to respond.
"Why do you wanna leave me so bad? You didn't tell me you were leaving the bathroom. You were just gonna go and leave me alone in there?" he says, slightly muffled by the toothpaste that fills his mouth.
You laugh when some of the foam falls to the floor.
"Okay, okay. Let's go back to the bathroom together, then."
"You can't leave me on the couch," he says, out of nowhere, more suds falling onto the floor. You push him a little so that by the time he reaches the bathroom, at least some toothpaste remains in his mouth.
He dips his head and spits out the foam into the sink, rinsing his mouth after. You have to go back and tidy things up, like the cloud he didn't make sure was washed away before stepping away from the sink, and the bubbly spume that spilled out of his mouth in the kitchen and the hallway.
He's following you again, like a lost puppy because you didn't comment on what he said about not wanting to stay on the couch. He's quiet because you're quiet. You're not saying anything because you're focused on wiping up the cleaning spray and toothpaste mixture on the floor with a paper towel, and he's leaning against the wall, silently watching, feeling like you're mad at him.
You stand up straight and make your way to the trashcan before washing your hands. "Let's go, Toji," you say. He's looking at you like a scolded dog, reaching his hand out for you to hold. In his mind, if you take it, you can't be too mad at him. His chest feels so much lighter when your soft palm meets his. The heaviness is replaced with a racing heart as you take him to the room with you. You're not leading him to the couch like he thought you were going to.
"You're letting me sleep next to you?" He asks, watching as you put up a couple more pillows for him to use.
"Since when do you sleep on the couch? You know I need you here with me whenever you sleep over." You turn around and pinch his cheek, stepping behind him to creak the door shut.
"Yeah? You like when I stay in your bed?" His voice goes low with the question. His hands go to your waist and he's walking you backwards towards your bed. "Well I like staying in your bed too, mama." He lays you down, your head cradled by his hand before he slides it out of the way for your pillow to take its place. He grins as he takes up all the space between your legs, his hands taking their position on your waist again. He takes your lips in his, the minty flavor of his mouth seeping into your taste buds. It's a short lived moment, because the second his hands try to tug your shorts down, you put a stop to everything, your own hands pulling your shorts back up.
"Mm..." you hum, releasing his lips with a quiet smack. "N-No, Toji. Not like this."
"No?" He repeats, a small crease of confusion between his brows as he pulls his hands away from your hips. "Okay," he complies, quickly diverting the situation by resting his whole body down on you. His chin rests on your chest and he just looks up at you with the most loving expression. You have to try not to laugh when you notice he isn't blinking.
You gently scratch the back of his head, threading your fingers through his hair. "What?" You ask, a soft smile following the question.
"I don't know," he says, sighing wistfully with that same adoring gaze still fixated on you. "I can't explain the way I see you." Not having the sufficiently accurate words to describe how you are depicted in his eyes is a strange, void-like feeling for someone who could talk about you for days on end.
You just hum at the declaration. His mind isn't exactly operating at one hundred percent, so you won't judge him for his inability to think of ways to describe you.
He lowers his gaze and buries his face in your warm chest. You can feel him kissing you through the thin material of your tank top. "Love you," he mumbles. "You mad at me?" He asks, not pausing his kisses as he waits for your answer.
"No, baby. There's nothing to be mad about." You smooth down his hair when you're done playing with it and rest your hands on his shoulders.
"Just wanted to see you." His warm breath filters through your shirt. "Shiu told me no, but I didn't care. I just had to see you, and now... i'm here." He inhales and lets out the breath slowly. "And I don't wanna go home." As if he's scared he'll be denied of you again, his arms go under your back, and he effectively molds his body into yours.
"You could've let me know over the phone rather than giving me a heart attack. You know you're always welcome here, my love." You rub soothing circles into his back with one hand, and the other goes to the back of his head again.
"Surprise," he says, lacking so much enthusiasm that it even makes him chuckle. He pushes his face further into your chest and lets out a sigh that reveals his tiredness. "Mm... you're gonna put me to sleep if you keep doing that."
You laugh, slowing your movements until your hands are just flat in their positions.
"No, ma," he groans, frustrated by the lack of your soothing touch on him. "Do it again, please. Feels good." He turns his head so that the side of his face rests on your chest.
It's impossible to deny him, especially when he asked so nicely. You like being able to help him relax this way. Never mind the lack of feeling in your legs from his weight and the minimal movement you've been allowed. You just can't seem to find it in yourself to whine about your position when the sound of him rhythmically breathing through his nose takes over the silence of the room. You tilt your head slightly to get a look at his face and as you suspected, he's out. His eyes are shut and he's motionless, save for the slight rise and fall of his shoulders and back as he breathes.
A kiss to the top of his head was your show of making peace with having him as your weighted blanket and human teddy bear for the night.
Shiu said you wouldn't be able to handle a drunk Toji all alone, yet there you have him, piled on and drooling on you like he's getting the best sleep.
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sanarsi · 2 months
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You’re doing great, sweetie
no-outbreak!professor!Joel Miller x student!f!Reader
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Summary: You came to your professor to ask for help with your essay. He accidentally discovers one of your dirty secrets which is him. Warnings: +18, MDNI, age gap (reader is 20, Joel is 50), soft!dom!Joel (oh you’re gonna love him), unprotected/protected PIV, pet names (honey, baby, sweetheart, sweetie), blowjob, fingering, cum eating Wordcount: 4,8k An: I am WEAK for caring and sweet Joel so that's who he is here. He’s wonderful and I love him with all my heart so I hope you love him too xx Music I worked with: Ultraviolence - Lana Del Rey
Masterlist
Studying was hard. You shed sweat and tears there.
You tried.
You really tried.
Despite this, you weren't proud of yourself. You knew you could do better. You were like an executioner to yourself. Sleepless nights, thousands of notes and liters of coffee. That's what it cost you to pass a measly 95%.
Fucking 95%.
Where's the missing 5%? Where did you make a mistake that cost you as much as 5%? You had no idea. But you knew where you could find out.
Professor Miller's office was always open. Always invited stray students. Or in your case, perfectionists. Always welcomed with warmth and the smell of herbs. His office was a place of momentary respite and the feeling that the world wasn't really running, it was you. And that's why when you knocked on his door and were greeted by his warm smile, you finally felt like you could breathe.
“Professor,” you said with a smile, tightening your grip around a few notebooks.
"My favorite student," he replied in a warm but tired voice. No wonder, it was Friday and already late. Nothing worse than you could have happened to him.
“I'm sorry to disturb-”
“You know very well that you never disturb me,” he interrupted you immediately. You pursed your lips into a line, feeling your stomach tighten. He was always like this... And you still haven't gotten used to it. "Come in, I'll make you some tea," he offered, moving to the side. You smiled nervously and slipped inside.
"Actually, I prefer coffee."
"Coffee then," he nodded, closing the door and heading towards what replaced the small kitchen. You placed the stack of notebooks on the table and placed your bag on the ground. You looked around the office decorated in shades of dark brown and beige.
Everything here was thought out. Delicate accessories. Perfectly arranged books. Large oak desk. A table and a few chairs. And a large leather sofa by the window.
You liked being here. But the office itself was not enough. It was Professor Miller who gave it life. It was his energy that permeated every inch that made you feel at home here. Or at least that's what you wanted home to feel like.
You looked out the window at the small park in the middle of campus. The leaves on the trees were yellow, heralding the beginning of autumn. And everything would be beautiful if it weren't for the nasty weather. You don't even remember the last time you felt the sun's rays on your skin. Everything was as if under a dome of thick clouds.
“There are upsides to this weather,” professor's voice rang out behind you. You turned around just as he was placing two cups of coffee on the table.
"Like?" you asked, walking closer and sitting on the chair. Joel followed your lead and sat down with a soft groan. You smiled in amusement.
"Well..." he began, raising his eyebrows and leaned back, "actually, there aren't any," he finished after a moment's thought. “Unless you like rain and greyness,” he added with a smile.
You chuckled to yourself at his words. Sometimes you wished Joel was your main teacher. He was the only one who was just normal.
“What are you coming to me with?” he asked finally. You blinked a few times and cleared your throat, shifting in your chair. How should you tell him this...?
“I wanted to talk about the last essay we wrote,” you began calmly, seeing understanding immediately appear on Joel's face. "I wanted to know why you subtracted 5% from me."
"Of course you would like to know..." he muttered under his breath, amused, and shook his head. He looked at you with warmth in his eyes and was silent for a moment before sighing. “Honey, are you really going to fight for the stupid 5%?” he asked, hoping that maybe you'd change your mind and save you both from having to work on nothing.
“It's important 5%” you corrected him and he just looked at you in amusement. His smile was like a ray of sunshine on these cloudy days. Joel sighed, shaking his head and took off his glasses to wipe his tired face. He looked at you one more time before standing up and moving towards his desk. He pushed his glasses up his nose as he looked through the stack of papers, looking for your name. After a while he returned to his place with a few papers. He began to silently look through your work while you calmly drank your coffee. The coffee he made was always the best.
“Yeah okay…” he spoke after a few long minutes before he dropped your work on the table and slid it towards you. You put down your cup and took the papers. “The first half is good. Very good actually," he began to explain as you looked through a few pieces of paper, "But somewhere in the middle you completely changed your writing style. I didn't like it.” He glanced at the papers, wrinkling his nose. “The sentences were so…empty,” he explained, so you looked at him.
Was it really just about that? About the stupid writing style?
You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling a pang in your heart.
“Is there anything I can do to improve?” you asked, sounding so delicate as if the slightest stimulus could break you. Joel was silent for a moment, staring at you. And he might start cursing you for how soft his heart was towards you.
He nodded slowly and drank his coffee. Every second of his silence seemed to drag on forever. The sound of the cup being placed down echoed in your head. You blinked a few times, waiting for him to speak but your leg began to tremble restlessly under the table.
“I'll do anything,” you said, unable to bear the silence. Joel smiled shaking his head.
"I know," he replied warmly. He cleared his throat, shifting in the chair. "Read the whole thing and mark the moment when you notice the change I mentioned to you," he instructed, to which you nodded and immediately got to work. In the meantime, he got up and continued what your visit had interrupted. Organizing papers wasn't his favorite thing to do, but he had to do it someday.
For several minutes you were focused on every word you wrote on these papers a week ago. The work was still satisfactory, but only now you were able to notice what the professor had mentioned. You winced as you read the sentences that looked like they were written by a robot. You understood why he deducted 5% from you.
“I can see it now,” you said, looking up. Joel stopped reading and placed the papers on the shelf before heading towards you. He stopped behind you and rested his hand on the back of your chair. His fingers touched your sweater, making you sit up straighter. You glanced at him as he leaned closer, looking at your work.
“Mhm,” he murmured, nodding. His attention was focused on the text until he finally straightened up. “Start from this point again. Write, I will come and check,” he ordered, looking down at you. “Then we'll talk about those important 5%,” he finished and you nodded automatically. You liked it when he was professional. Gravity and authority suited him. You followed him with your eyes and only when he returned to looking through his papers, you did get to work too.
You sat in silence for an hour, writing your papers. For an hour, the only thing that broke the silence was Joel's soft murmurs. He watched you from time to time as you dealt with your writing, and a small smile appeared on his lips when he saw how focused you were.
It was starting to get dark outside, so a few warm lamps gave a nice atmosphere. You were staring at the last sentence you wrote when suddenly a cup of hot coffee appeared next to you. You looked away from the text and looked at your steaming drink.
“Thank you,” you said quietly and glanced up at Joel who was looking into your notebook. He carefully followed the text you had written. You remained silent, waiting for him to speak. Finally he nodded gently in approval.
“You're doing great,” he praised, making eye contact with you. You smiled gently and he responded in the same way. He straightened up, tapping your chin teasingly and winking. "Write," he nodded and then left.
You swallowed hard, staring at his back as your heart beat so loudly that it drowned out everything around you. You blinked a few times in confusion and shifted nervously in your seat, returning your gaze to your notebook.
He had such a warm smile...
Another hour passed. Joel continued to stand by the bookcase arranging papers and books while you walked around reading your work to him.
“Repeat that last sentence,” he spoke, catching your eye for a moment. You stopped and looked at the text.
“Her gaze was empty and sunk into the depths of darkness,” you read and immediately looked at him, expecting disapproval. Joel was silent for a moment, wrinkling his nose and passing the papers between his fingers.
"Next."
“Like death slowly emerging, she stood up too. The black lady who heralded no tomorrow…”
“I like this one,” he said, cutting you off halfway through. You looked at him with a smile and continued reading.
Several minutes passed before you finished. You stood in the middle of the room with a grimace as you read the last few sentences in your head again.
“I don't think I like the ending,” you said hesitantly. Before long, you felt the professor's body behind you. His hand came to rest on your arm as he leaned over your shoulder. You immediately stopped breathing, feeling your skin begin to burn where he touched you. He focused on reading and you focused on the way his chest pressed against your back.
Damn…why did his touch send such pleasant warmth? Why was his closeness so pleasant that you were afraid to move lest it be interrupted?
“I don't see any problem,” he said, frowning. His voice so close to your ear sent shivers down your entire body. You swallowed, forcing yourself to say a few sentences.
Why did it take so much energy for you to speak?
“I'm reading this and it doesn't feel like it's over,” you explained and glanced sideways at him. “Do you see what I mean?” Joel caught your eye for a moment and then started reading the text again.
“I understand, but I still don't see the problem. You ended it in a simple way," he said, tracing the text with his finger.
“You know I don't like simplicity,” you muttered under your breath, earning him a sigh. The sound made your stomach tighten.
“Honey, listen…” he started and tightened his fingers on your arm. “I know you try like no other and always want everything to be perfect,” he said calmly, not wanting you to take it the wrong way. You looked at him and immediately locked eyes. “But sometimes simple is best option,” he finished, smiling softly. You stared into his eyes in silence and slowly swallowed when your gaze fell to his lips for a moment. You immediately looked away at your notes, feeling your breath shudder.
"I'm still not convinced"
“Of course you're not,” Joel sighed and snatched the notebook from you before walking away a few steps, starting to read again. You stood there, watching as he slowly started to spin in circles.
“I would give you 100% for this” he commented.
“I wouldn't give 100% for this,” you muttered under your breath, but not so quietly that he couldn't hear it. He looked at you, stopping.
“It's good that you're not me,” he replied with a gentle smile, which immediately made you feel a blush of shame on your cheeks. Joel went back to reading and you started mentally cursing yourself at your long tongue.
You started playing with your fingers behind your back and looked down at your shoes for a moment. Only the sound of pages turning caught your attention. Joel indifferently studied the remaining pages in your notebook, and then you felt a twinge of panic. You were about to open your mouth to speak when he interrupted you.
"I will give you a deadline for corrections," he continued, flipping through the pages until he finally stopped at one. "This is interesting," he commented under his breath, starting to read. You felt a cold sweat cover your body as you realized what could have caught his attention.
“Professor…” you spoke warningly. Joel silenced you with a wave of his hand. You fell silent, pursing lips tightly. You swallowed the lump in your throat, watching him closely. You watched for any signs of what he might be reading. And more importantly, how he reacted to what he read.
A soft smile appeared on his lips before he looked towards you. You looked like you had seen a ghost, what amuse him even more.
"You're even better at non-fiction than short stories," he commented, raising an eyebrow and closing notebook. You blinked a few times as if his words were completely lost on you. Only after a while you waking up from the stasis.
"Non-fiction?" you asked confused. You frowned, wondering if you had ever written something non-fiction, but nothing came to mind.
“I mean…” he started with a snort and slowly moved towards you. "I thought my eyes were just brown," he laughed softly. And that's when your heart stopped.
You felt every muscle in your body tense as you watched him in horror. He read... He read the fucking poetry about his eyes. You were screwed…
“Professor-” you started, wanting to explain yourself. Say anything that could get you out of this ridiculous situation.
“Joel,” he interrupted you.
You froze with your mouth parted and you could have sworn you heard your heart start beating again.
You stared at him when he stopped two steps in front of you. Joel seemed completely relaxed while you were having a nervous breakdown. Your silence only made his smile widen.
"Do not get me wrong. I really like it” He lifted the notebook, tapping the cover with his finger. You followed his every move carefully in silence. Really, you couldn't be in a worse position. “I'd love to read about other things, too,” he added with a smile and held out notebook towards you. You hesitantly raised your trembling hand and took your notebook, hugging it to your chest as if it would protect you from everything that was happening.
You blinked a few times, your eyes darting. As long as you don't look him in the eye. You nodded in agreement, feeling like nothing could come out of your mouth.
“Hey…” he started gently and grabbed your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look at him.
His hand… on your face… Oh god.
“Don't be ashamed of your poetry,” he said, gently stroking your skin with his thumb. You swallowed hard, feeling yourself start to shiver. You nodded almost invisibly. “Use your words,” he encouraged.
“Okay,” you whispered weakly, your breath shaky. One word cost you more effort than writing several pages of text.
"That's my good girl," he smiled wider, pleased.
His fingers slowly traced your cheek and he tucked a broken strand of hair behind your ear, following every move with eyes.
“So what can I read about in the future?” he asked as his fingers slowly moved down to your neck. You felt like you were burning alive. You were so damn hot that you started sweating. Your heart wasn’t slowing down and you could barely catch your breath.
Was this what dying was like?
“I-” you trailed off, swallowing the lump in your throat.
“Maybe hands?” he suggested, raising an eyebrow. His fingers slowly moved your hair behind your shoulder. “Hm? What do you think?" He asked, looking back into your eyes.
You felt like you were in some movie. You weren't even able to think straight when he touched you like that. You nodded in response.
“Words,” he reminded you.
“Yes, I'd like that.” Joel smiled warmly before removing his hand and sighing.
“Great,” he nodded and walked past you towards the door. You turned around, watching his every move. “I have time next week. You can come to my class and write your essay," he said on his way to the door.
You took a few steps after him but stopped when he did too. Joel turned towards you, his hand on the doorknob. He still had that warm smile on his face as he looked at you.
“Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere,” he said, raising an eyebrow when he noticed you had moved from your previous spot. His fingers slipped from the door knob and closed the door in one motion.
Then you realized what was about to happen.
You parted your lips, trying to catch your breath, but Joel was already in front of you again.
And this time, his lips were the reason you stopped breathing.
Soft and warm lips surrounded by rough stubble.
A mixture that made your knees weak in a second.
You sighed at the feeling of his lips pressed against yours, leading you in a slow dance. His hand on your cheek and the other wrapped around your waist. You sighed again as he pulled you closer. His tongue found yours and his fingers tangled in your hair. He kissed gently and tenderly. Exactly as you imagined. Exactly as you needed.
“Tell me,” he started, pulling away from your lips, breathing heavily. “Tell me that you want this.”
His breath mixed with yours. Your gaze was fixed on his lips and his on your eyes.
“Mhm,” you nodded because that was all you could do. But it was enough for him to crash his lips against yours again. You moaned at the intensity with which he started kissing you. Like he was thirsty.
Joel took the notebook from your hands and threw it on the table. His lips collided with yours over and over again. His arm wrapped tightly around your body. A scenario like one of your wet dreams.
“On your knees,” he whispered against your lips and loosened his grip. You took a moment to calm your breathing and licked his saliva from your swollen lips. You looked into his eyes, filled with warmth and desire. A look you would do anything for. Including falling to your knees in front of him.
You watched as his fingers slowly unbuckled his belt. And he just watched your sweet face. Your eyes reflected soft lights and your lips were slightly puffy. You looked like an angel.
He slowly unzipped his zipper and then your eyes met his. And you had to admit that this was the perspective from which you could look at him forever.
His hand disappeared into his boxers only to take out his semi-hard cock a moment later. You weren't able to take your eyes off his, causing a smirk to appear on his lips.
“Come on baby, you gotta help me out a little.”
His gentle words and warm smile immediately encouraged you to do whatever he asked you to do. You looked at his cock and slowly moved closer to place a kiss on the tip. That was enough for Joel to moan quietly with satisfaction. You licked the precum from his tip, immediately moisturizing all his length. Another moan escaped his lips as you took him into your mouth. His hand found its way into your hair as you slowly began to caress his cock with your mouth. With each movement of your tongue you felt him getting harder and harder. Until you finally started choking on him.
You pulled away for air and looked at him as he took off his glasses to wipe his face. He looked like he had run a marathon, but his eyes were full of you. He was breathing heavily as he decided to put his glasses on the table. And then you wrapped your mouth around his cock again.
“So pretty,” he moaned, stroking your head affectionately.
You felt his tip teasing your throat again so you pulled away, gasping for breath. His thumb was immediately on your lips, wiping away the saliva. You looked up at him like an innocent deer.
“Good, baby,” he praised you and tugged on your chin, forcing you to stand up. He immediately leaned down, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. You melted under his lips, making him smile.
His hands slid down your waist to your hips, pressing his fingers against your skin. A second later he was unbuttoning your jeans only for his hand to slip into your panties. You both moaned at the same time as his fingers traced your entrance. You grabbed onto his arms as your knees buckled beneath you. His arm wrapped around your waist as he felt your reaction.
“You're so wet,” he whispered against your lips. His eyes never left yours as he began to spread your juices over your clit. You shuddered, breathing heavily, and dug your nails harder into his skin. Then his fingers slowly slipped into your wet hole.
He watched in delight as your lips parted and your eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. The moan that left your throat as he slowly moved his fingers was like music to his ears. Every movement of his fingers echoed throughout your body. Like you were getting drunker with each thrust.
Joel couldn't help himself and started drinking your moans like the best wine. For the first time, it didn't take much to feel your orgasm building between your legs. He groaned into your mouth, feeling you slowly tighten around his finger.
"Already?" he asked with a smile.
“Please,” you moaned sweetly and he smiled wider. He stole a gentle kiss from you.
“Of course,” he whispered, pleased with how intensely you responded to his touch. He was flattered.
You closed your eyes as your body began to chase your orgasm. Then his fingers flexed slightly and you felt stars all over your body. You moaned as you came on his fingers. Joel didn't stop until he saw the beautiful post-orgasmic bliss on your face.
When you finally opened your eyes, you immediately saw him licking his fingers clean of your juices. And honestly, it was the sexiest sight of your life. You swallowed, wanting to moisten your dry throat.
“Turn around,” he ordered, continuing to lick his fingers. You followed his instructions without hesitation.
You felt his large, warm hands on your hips and your heart beat faster in your chest with excitement. His hand pushed your back gently, causing you to lie down on the table. His lips kissed your shoulder a few times before he straightened up, looking down at you.
And he would be lying if he said that this sight had never crossed his mind.
In a second your jeans were sliding down your thighs. You heard his soft laugh when he noticed your panties.
"You're really sweet," he commented, running his fingers over the white panties with colorful strawberries. A blush burned your face, but you smiled to yourself anyway.
A few seconds later, your panties also stopped at your thighs. Joel crouched down and spread your thighs so he could look at your wet pussy. A soft growl left his throat, making you tense as another drop of your previous orgasm left your entrance.
“I could eat you all night long,” he said, his voice laced with desire and your stomach twisted into knots. His words echoed against your pussy, making your knees tremble. “Another time, sweetheart,” with that he stood up and spread the wetness between your legs with his fingers. You moaned at the feeling and closed your eyes, snuggling into the table. He leaned over you and ran his nose over your ear. You shuddered. "Because there will be another time, hm?" he whispered, sending shivers down your entire body.
He slowly positioned his cock perfectly at your entrance and ran the tip along the length of your pussy to wet it. You started panting as you felt him ready to enter you.
“Yes, please,” you moaned. Joel laughed softly and then slowly entered you until the end. You both moaned as he stopped his hips against yours.
And then reality hit him. He straightened up, looking at the place where you were connected.
"Shit, baby, I didn't put a condom," he cursed due to his stupidity. You immediately glanced at him over your shoulder, seeing that he was surprised by his own carelessness.
“I'm taking the pills,” you replied quickly, not wanting him to interrupt. You felt him so damn good…
“Are you sure?” he asked, a bit worried about whether you wanted him to continue.
“I am,” you nodded. You looked at each other for a moment and then Joel leaned down to capture your lips in a slow kiss. His hips slowly came back to life, thrusting into you slowly and intensely. His cock stimulated every wall of your pussy perfectly. You moaned into his mouth, feeling him in every part of your body. As if his cock was made just for you.
His fingers dug hard into your hips as he slowly buried himself inside you. It quickly drove you crazy. You couldn't even kiss him back so you fell on the table, choking heavily.
Joel rested his forehead on your shoulder as he entered you again and again. Taking his time, enjoying you. He loved the way you tightened around his cock every time he entered you all the way.
His moans disappeared in your skin and his cock in your pussy, creating a deadly mixture that quickly brought you to the brink of breaking. You cried as you felt his slow movements drive you to sweet madness. You wanted to beg him to speed up, to do anything to speed up your fulfillment. But Joel knew very well what he was doing. Your needy moans only confirmed to him how good he was doing you.
“You're doing great, sweetie” he breathed against your ear as you cried his name once again. His movements were like slow torture. Perfect to bring you to the edge of pleasure and too slow to end it.
But then he changed the movement of his hips, pushing himself even deeper into you. You choked on air as he growled, holding you even tighter. You didn't need much now.
“Can you cum on my cock?” he asked, panting with thirst.
“Mhm,” you nodded, pressing your lips together to keep from squealing. Joel let out a satisfied groan and started placing kisses on your shoulder. You closed your eyes, moaning with desire.
“You're fucking perfect, baby,” he moaned, stroking and squeezing your hip and thigh. He was insanely hungry for you. Like an animal. Like a worshipper.
One last push of his hips and his name fell from your lips like a prayer as you came. Joel groaned as he felt you tighten on his cock. He stopped, enjoying the feeling, feeling that his orgasm was fast approaching. He then started thrusting into you again, at a slightly faster speed. This only prolonged your pleasure to the limit.
“Cum inside you?” he asked, his fingers tightening on your hip.
“Yes, Mr. Miller,” you moaned. Joel growled, grabbing your neck and pulling you to his chest. His lips crushed yours in a hungry kiss in a second. A few moves inside you and his moan disappeared into your mouth. His cock twitched inside you, filling you fully with his orgasm.
You both panted into each other's mouths as he gave you sweet gentle kisses. Eventually his breathing calmed down and he pulled away so he could look at you with a blissful smile. He ran his gentle fingers along your cheek and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.
“I'll make time for you tomorrow. The sooner you write your essay, the sooner I can enjoy you, deal?" he suggested.
You smiled softly and nodded, “Deal.”
2K notes · View notes
witchywcmans · 3 months
Text
FORBIDDEN FRUIT. | LAIOS TOUDEN
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synopsis ━━ laios can't seem to get enough after he first tastes you. but the lines in your friendship are beginning to blur. it's only when your party happens upon your ex-lover in the dungeon that laios realizes what he should've communicated all along. (laios x f!reader.)
content warnings ━━ cunnilingus, praise, size kink, jealousy, classic missionary, unprotected sex, creampie, mutual pining/confession, laios and reader are not good with communication (but they work it out v well), laios is self concious but reader is so kind to him !!, monster facts as dirty talk. nsfw (minors + ageless blogs dni).
word count ━━ 4.8k
song inspiration ━━ awkward, sza / cherry, lana del rey / hunger, florence + the machine
author's note ━━ TECHNICALLY, this could be a part 2 to please, eat, so I'm just going to link as a part 2. you don't have to read please, eat before this, but if you like laios then obvi you should read it anyway!! I'm SO SORRY it took me so long to post another laios x reader 😭 I was trying to finish the manga before I wrote something else dungeon meshi-related, but life gets the way. oh well. also, this might be controversial, but in this fic I’m refuting the “laios is a virgin” allegations. SUE ME. I simply don’t believe he’s been adventuring so long and hasn’t been with anyone, that is crazzzy to me !! but that's just me 🤗 we all have our fave headcanons! my goal when I finish the manga is to write something for laios at the end of the story hehe. I hope you guys enjoy part 2! this one-shot is dedicated to @satoogojos 🫶
🪽 part i: PLEASE, EAT. / part ii: FORBIDDEN FRUIT. / part iii: TOO SWEET.
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Catching feelings for your friend was truly a fickle thing. But you guessed it was bound to happen with what you and Laios were doing behind everyone’s back. Each night, after your party tucked themselves in their bedrolls, Laios would so delicately lace your arm through his and you two would find a private area … before he completely buried his face between your thighs.
He was fixated on the way you tasted, the way he could get you to cum so easily on his tongue. You were the only dessert he wanted after every dinner. Some nights, he would have you writhing from overstimulation, but he just wanted more of you – so much more.
It was a little confusing, though, how he didn’t ask for anything in return. Laios seemed to grind against the cold, dungeon floor as his tongue lapped at your essence, sometimes cumming in his pants and moaning between your legs. Or he would politely excuse himself after he was done, taking care of himself as you cleaned yourself up. You didn’t quite understand it, and maybe neither did he. You both were just too awkward to broach the subject.
The incident with the sea serpent had changed your friendship forever. Not only did Laios save you from becoming one, but the intimacy you both now shared seemed to open you up more. You found yourself divulging more secrets to him, leaning on him when you needed someone, even being more impartial to Senshi’s monster meals. And you liked the way he smiled, how he looked at you. You liked how fearless he was. You liked how protective he was over the party, especially you. You … really liked him. Far more than a crush. In fact, you wished you could go back in time and just have a crush. But your feelings for him became deeper as you crept lower and lower into the dungeon together. Your goal was still to come out of this dungeon alive, but now … you hoped that you would make it out alive together.
What a foolish girl you had become.
You tried to remain focused on the path ahead of you, but you were clearly lost in thought today. The party had reached floor 6, which meant you were closer and closer to the deepest part of the dungeon and hopefully rescuing Laios’ sister, Falin. The last thing you expected to see on floor 6 were other adventurers, let alone your ex.
You were hesitant to call him an ex, since you two had never really been anything but a warm body in each other’s beds while living on the surface. But when your bodies collided and your eyes met his, you realized why you had taken a liking to him in the first place. He had been a butcher’s son, handy with an axe, and you had liked his big, strong hands. You almost fell right into him from the slippery dungeon floor, but those strong hands seemed to catch you like you were made of air. “It’s you,” he chuckled, setting you up straight and tucking a stray hair behind your ear. “Look at you … feels like it was just yesterday when we were on the surface, huh?”
Marcille looked like she didn’t want anything to do with your ex and his party, but Senshi was very kind to offer them food, if they needed it. Chilchuck seemed neutral, and Laios … you still couldn’t read Laios as easily as the rest of the party. He watched your ex like a hawk, standing behind you as if to protect you. Your ex’s hands were big, sure, but Laios was tall, his shoulders wide and intimidating even without the armor. Laios narrowed his eyes slightly whenever he saw your ex’s gaze roam over you, like he was undressing you with his eyes. And you weren’t sure if you caught it – it only lasted a second – but did Laios clench his hands into fists?
There wasn’t enough time in the world to dwell on it. Especially when you had ghosts seemingly pulling you into another area of the dungeon and waking up on a dirt path, a beautiful golden castle mounted ahead of you. Your party was initially confused, walking into the village and seeing monsters living harmoniously with humans. After becoming acquainted with the village, you and your friends were offered a warm, delicious meal with Yaad, the lord of the Golden Country. After Yaad explained the history of this village, you all were each given rooms to rest in for the night. The beds were small and cold, but far better than a bedroll.
You were used to Laios initiating with you every night, but by the time everyone went to sleep, he still didn’t call upon you. So you stood from your bed, adjusting the nightgown given to you, and walked across the hall to where Laios’ room was. You knocked on his door, and you heard the slip of a sword into a sheath behind the thin wood. He had been inspecting Kensuke for some reason, probably mulling over Yaad’s words. When he opened the door, he was dressed in loose pants and a linen shirt, droplets running down his neck. He must’ve just bathed. You couldn’t stop yourself from digging your nails into your palm.
“Can I come in?” You asked in a hushed voice, and he moved out of the way for you to step inside.
His room looked exactly like yours, but the sheets were ruffled from lack of sleep. Laios walked around you and sat on the edge of the bed, leaving you more confused than ever. You played with your hands as you stared at him, contemplating. “Is something wrong, Laios?” You inquired, stepping closer to him. “You’ve been acting weird even before we got here.”
His brow furrowed for a moment. “How do you figure?”
“Well, you …” Your tongue clicked. “You didn’t come to find me after everyone went to bed.”
He seemed to concede, shoulders dipping at your answer. Shifting on the mattress, he propped himself up against his pillows and moved Kensuke to lean against the wall. His silence was even more perplexing. This had to be the longest time Laios went without talking. He was a blabbermouth.
“I don’t understand,” you continued, walking over and sitting on the end of his bed. “Are you … are you angry with me?”
“No, no,” Laios was quick to reply, “I’m not angry with you. I’m just …”
You raised a brow, eager to hear his answer.
“That man you recognized. On floor 6,” he finally said, his fists clenching again at the memory. “I didn’t … I didn’t like the way he looked at you. And his tone. It was disrespectful to you. Unless I’m reading this all wrong.”
You were taken aback by his honesty. So he had been bothered by your ex. “Oh,” you replied, “well … me and him, we do have history, Laios. But it’s in the past.”
“I could tell.” He was picking at his nails now, any excuse not to meet your eyes. “Everyone has a life before the dungeon. It’s not about the past. I just … I didn’t like him. Or how he looked at you like … like he still wanted you. Or something.”
“Or something,” you repeated, nodding your head. A slow smile crept onto your lips at the realization. “Laios, are you jealous?”
His head jolted up, his eyes glued to his hands, searching for something unknown. Realization washed over his face, as if he hadn’t even considered this possibility. “Oh, gods,” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “This whole day I’ve been trying to reconcile with what I’m feeling and I knew I wasn’t mad at you – maybe just mad at the circumstances – and none of it made sense, but now …” He finally met your eyes, a chuckle slipping past his lips. “I was just jealous. How did I not realize?”
“Maybe because we didn’t talk about it,” you offered in a low voice, reaching out and lacing your fingers with his. A jolt of electricity ran through your fingertips and all the way up your arm. You wished you could hide your reaction, but it was clear as day, making Laios shift in his spot. “Laios, we should talk –”
“You’re not leaving the party, are you?” His grip on your fingers went tight, and he didn’t even realize it.
“No,” you laughed, scooting closer and running your free hand over his face. His cheeks flushed instantly when you touched him. “I think … we should talk about what’s happening between us.”
Laios’ gaze went narrow as he processed your words. “Oh,” he said blankly, and then his eyes went wide. “Oh.”
“I just … because we’ve been doing this every night … it’s hard not to feel …” You sighed, unable to get the words right. But he seemed to understand, quick-witted as ever, squeezing your hand in encouragement. And then he smiled at you, all dopey and kind, and your heart began to pound. “I can’t help but think that the lines are being blurred between us. My feelings for you are … much deeper than what they were initially. And if you don’t feel the same way, that’s okay. I needed you to know. I’m sorry if this hurts … whatever our relationship is.”
He was still smiling, his other hand gripping your waist, pulling you even closer. “Well, I think –”
“And now I can’t help but wonder if maybe – just maybe – you feel the same way,” you started rambling, terrified to know how he was going to reply. “Because why would you feel jealous if you didn’t … I shouldn’t make assumptions. But I still wondered. And I can’t stop talking. Again, I don’t want this to ruin anything and I’m sorry if it does. My ex doesn’t mean anything to me anymore and he won’t ever again –”
Out of nowhere, Laios used his upper body strength to flip you onto your back, pinning you to the bed. Now your cheeks were flushed, completely caught off guard by the action. He sat in between your legs, his fingers just brushing over your waist, as he said, “I do. Feel the same. I feel like I’m the one who could’ve ruined this because I didn’t realize it sooner.”
You gave him a sad smile, reaching up to cup his chin. “You couldn’t ruin anything.”
He leaned into your palm when your hand moved to his cheek, humming under his breath. He then leaned down, his body just barely pressing against yours, as if he craved your body heat. Like a moth to a flame.
“Can we not talk about your ex ever again?” He muttered, his hands running up and down your sides. “Because when I saw him today, all I could think about was …” He stopped himself abruptly.
“What?” Your curiosity peaked.
“I’m going to sound like a jealous brute,” he sighed dramatically, nose brushing against yours as his hands moved higher, thumbs grazing over the underside of your breasts. The material of your nightgown was so thin that your peaked nipples were already visible. “I just … couldn’t stop thinking about all the times I’ve tasted you that he hasn’t. I wondered if he knew exactly how you liked it, which places made those funny sounds come out of your mouth. And then, I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and all I wanted this whole day was to get you alone.”
You shuddered when his thumb brushed over one of your taut nipples, making your heel run down the back of his leg. His words alone made tingles run down your spine, but the second his hands were on you, you were properly soaked. The both of you lay there for a moment: him on top of you, nuzzling your nose, rolling his fingers over your nipples through your nightgown, eliciting breath hitches from your lips.
It was so slow, so patient, so good, but had you wanting more. And you couldn’t stop the words coming out when you blurted, “I want to have sex.”
He paused, opening his eyes for a moment, making sure he heard you properly.
“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you said quickly, feeling awkward. But why were you so shy all of a sudden? It’s not like he didn’t have his tongue deep inside your pussy every night. Maybe it was because there was a question still lying underneath the surface. “Why ... why don’t you want me to help you finish after you eat me out? Sometimes you just … walk away to take care of yourself.”
Laios’ face went bright red, and then he buried his face in your neck. “I’m so embarrassed.”
Your hand pushed back his cropped, blonde hair, trying to soothe his racing heart. “Why are you embarrassed?”
“Because it’s … it’s big,” he sighed and lifted his head. “There. I said it. It’s just big. And the last person who saw it made me feel super self-conscious about it.”
You couldn’t help but snort. “You’re embarrassed because you have a big dick?”
His pretty golden eyes were serious, but it looked like he wanted to laugh with you. “Please, don’t make it sound trivial.”
“It’s not trivial, it’s just …” You went to cup both his cheeks. The way he looked at you was unlike anything you ever experienced. You wondered why it took you so long to realize he felt the same. “I would never make you feel self-conscious about anything. I like everything about you, Laios.”
Your words had him melting, leaning back down into you and kissing you slowly. It was only when his tongue slipped into your mouth that his hand snaked down between your legs, just cupping your soaked entrance, the one thing he loved to eat more cheesecake. Realizing that you weren’t wearing any underwear had him reeling. “Gods …” He moaned into the kiss, his fingers simply running down your soaked folds.
As his lips broke away from yours, you asked in a tone as sweet as barometz, “Do you want to have sex, Laios?”
“Yes,” he replied, voice desperate. “Yes, please.”
Your hands went to the hem of his loose, linen shirt, breaking your kiss again to lift it over his head. For the first time, you were able to see what he looked like underneath all the armor. His shoulders were wide-set, his torso soft while also being oddly defined. Most tall-men your party encountered thought Laios was on the slender side, not believing how strong he was. But once your eyes beheld his biceps, you knew how wrong they all were. He was built and muscular and – gods, you could admire him for hours.
Laios stopped your hands from going any further, a pleading look in his eyes. He pushed your nightgown up and bunched it at the waist. “Can I taste you first?”
You nodded quickly, already intoxicated by the way he kissed you, the way he smiled at you, all eager and excited to bury his face in your pussy. It didn’t take him long; he was lightning fast, moving down your body and lifting your legs on his shoulders so he could eat you out easier. His tongue dove into your folds immediately, and he groaned at the first taste. You were acutely more aware every night that he could do this for hours, just lapping at you lazily, bringing you to orgasm over and over again. No monster compared to the way you tasted.
His nose bumped your clit as he tongued your leaking hole, practically whimpering at every drop of your wetness that reached his mouth. Large, calloused hands wrapped around your thighs, making sure they didn’t close and digging into your flesh. Your own hands fisted into the sheets, your ass lifted off the bed, but you could still grind your hips against his face. Soft whines left your lips, nothing compared to the groans Laios was making as he ate you like he didn’t have a three-course meal just an hour ago. You almost wondered if you should tell him to quiet down, afraid of the others hearing, but you were too lost in the pleasure to care.
It was clear to you the closer you got to reaching your peak that Laios wasn’t keen on stopping. And as much as you truly wanted to cum all over his tongue, you thought it was important that you both have this new experience together. It took you a few seconds to finally gather the courage to say something, his tongue feeling too good as he swirled it around your sensitive clit. “Laios,” you called, and then a little louder, “Laios.”
He lifted his head, your juices dripping down his chin. A primal urge made him want to dive back into you, but he controlled himself. His tongue licked at your essence around his mouth, and you shuddered at the sight.
“I want you inside me,” you whispered. “Is that okay?”
“Yes, yes,” he muttered hoarsely, placing your legs so delicately back on the bed, as if they were made of glass. “Of course.” He so desperately wanted to taste you again, but he was even more excited for this, to finally feel something other than his hand wrapped around his cock. You were the first person he ever tasted, but it had been quite a while since he was truly intimate with someone, to slide into someone and feel them clench around him.
As you tugged off your nightgown, Laios began to work at the ties of his pants. But his hands stopped as they came undone, glancing up at you with hesitation. You looked so pretty sitting in the middle of his bed, waiting for him, naked and vulnerable. He felt silly for feeling so self-conscious, especially when you were so beautiful like this.
“Laios,” you cooed, caressing his arm, “there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. And if you don’t want to, then we can stop.”
He almost choked on a laugh. “Trust me,” he replied, “I want to.”
After another beat of stalling, Laios finally stepped out of his bottoms and blushed pink from ear to ear. His cock was … well, it certainly was big. You sympathized with him; if anyone told you something about your body during sex, you would focus on that forever. But there was nothing for him to be embarrassed about. Truthfully, most males would kill to have what he did. His cock was thick and long, a few veins trailing down the shaft, curving up at his pretty red tip that was dripping with precum. You got even more wet just from staring at it, wondering what he would finally feel like inside of you. 
Your mouth opened to say something, anything to make him feel better, but he was already talking: “I need a distraction so I don’t think about you staring at it.” He crawled back onto the bed and between your thighs, immediately pressing his lips to yours. You could taste yourself still on his mouth, and your arms wound around his shoulders instantly. His teeth tugged at your bottom lip, and he asked, “Can I just … ramble about monster facts for a minute?”
You blinked, not expecting that. Laios released your lower lip and sighed, clearly still nervous. “It’ll help me get over this feeling. I swear. Or if you want to stop this, we can. I’ll … I’ll understand –”
“Laios,” you huffed, your mouth pulling back into a sweet smile, “I want you to do whatever makes you feel comfortable.”
“Oh, thank the gods,” he muttered, nuzzling his face back into your neck, placing sloppy kisses. “Did you know that … that harpies almost exclusively have the head of a female human and it is unknown if male harpies exist?”
His voice was muffled against your neck, but you could tell he was desperate and aching. You felt his hard length against your stomach, smearing precum on the exposed skin. “Really?” You breathed out, trying to engage with him but completely failing when he licked a stripe up your neck. A moan escaped your lips.
“There’s also … there’s, uh …” He was struggling to talk now, grasping his cock and giving it a few quick pumps before teasing the head against your dripping wet folds. Your legs instinctively opened wider for him, hoping to whatever gods were out there that you could take his cock. “There also exists a seabird variant of harpies called … called, Sirens. Their wings and  … their – their tail look like a seagull’s.”
You could hardly breathe as you asked, “What else, Laios?”
He began to push inside you slowly, letting you adjust with each inch. “Okay, okay … uh … bicorns … bicorns hate – oh, fuck.” Just the feeling of your tight warmth wrapped around his cock had him biting into your shoulder, like you were the forbidden fruit. He could hardly string together a word, could hardly think, as he sank deeper and deeper into you, his whole body shaking. “Bicorns hate … hate virtue. They prefer – shit – immorality. It is believed that … doing all seven deadly sins will … will allow an individual to approach a bicorn – fuck. Fuck. It feels –”
When he was finally buried to the hilt, all he could do was breathe into your neck. You whined, locking your legs around his waist. The stretch was unbelievable; your walls gripped him like a vice. But it was even better than you could’ve imagined. If you had thought originally that the night would go this way, you would’ve at least brushed your hair. Laios didn’t care though, inhaling the flowery scent as he nosed your pretty strands. You couldn’t even comprehend – whether it be from the stretch of his thick cock inside you or the overwhelming amount of butterflies in your stomach – how you were so lucky to have found him.
Not to mention, you felt even luckier that this wasn’t happening on a cold dungeon floor.
With one hand carding into his hair, you chuckled under your breath, “Had enough of reciting monster facts?”
“Mmhmm …” He groaned, unable to form a sentence. You finally felt him pull back before pushing into you in one fast, deep thrust, making you shiver. Your body was hardly used to feeling this full, but you wanted him so badly that it was humiliating, a pink blush tinting your nose. “You feel so good,” he muttered.
You pulled on his hair, and his head lifted from your neck. His lips were swollen from kissing you. Yours probably looked the same. But that didn’t matter right now as he held your gaze and began thrusting into you a little faster. His eyes were the color of melted gold, flecked with amber and brown, and you felt like you could stare into them forever while he fucked you. Laios lifted one of your legs higher on his waist, but his other hand stayed around your middle, keeping you nestled against him.
“Laios,” you whimpered, feeling him nudge your clit with each roll of his hips. Despite his desperation, his pace was tender and relaxed, making sure you were adjusting to his size. He knew he was big – clearly, it was something he’d been self-conscious about for a while – but the way you were looking at him right now … he’d never felt more at ease, more special. This was all he ever wanted: to be close to someone like this, to find intimacy with someone he had true feelings for. All the other times had been stepping stones, leading to this moment with you, where your warmth enveloped him so nicely and your gaze made him want to cum on the spot.
His hips began to move a little faster, pushing even deeper inside you, as his mouth swallowed your moans in a hungry kiss. Face going hot, you trembled, and his cock pulsed inside you with each pass. Your nails dragged down his shoulder blades, leaving marks for him to examine later, like a predator with its prey. Goosebumps raised on his skin, feeling himself get closer … and closer … and closer. If you kept digging your nails into him like that, he’d surely lose his grasp on reality. But you just felt so good, so warm, and he craved you. Craved you like you were his last meal.
“Laios,” you croaked out when his lips broke from yours, “Laios, are you close?”
He could hardly say anything else but, “Mm …” 
You thought you could get there by now from his tongue teasing you earlier, but you needed a little more friction. Bumping against your clit wasn’t enough. “Okay, okay,” you rambled, reaching down between your legs to touch yourself. “Just hold off for another minute. I’ll get there.”
Laios opened his eyes, realizing what you were doing, immediately envious of your own hand. “No, let me,” he murmured, voice like honey, and found your clit easily. “Then I can taste you on my fingers after.” His excitement made you laugh, which brought a smile to his own lips.
He shifted a little, pulling back so only his tip rested inside you, and fucked back into you at a different angle, one that brushed against your special spot. The stimulation of both your clit and g-spot had your back arching, whimpers slipping out of your lips like a chant.
“Is … this … better?” He asked, panting after each word.
Your voice was strained when you answered, “Y—Yes.”
His balls slapped against the underside of your ass, and he knew how close he was, but all he cared about at this moment was cumming together. He needed to see that look on your face when you reached your peak. He only got to see it a few times, when he lifted his eyes while tasting you, watching the way your lips parted and sweat ran down your forehead.
His fingers rubbed tight circles on your aching clit – knowing exactly what you liked – and you were close. So, so close already. Laios had a way of touching you that felt inquisitive, yet effortless. Like he wanted to learn which spots made you moan the loudest, while also already knowing without even touching you. You grew to like him not just because of his dopey grin, his protectiveness, or his positivity, but also for the way he was willing to learn with you, the way he needed you. And right now, he needed you to cum more than anything.
Tension coiled in your lower abdomen, making you gasp out, “Laios – fuck – Laios, I’m gonna –”
“I know, I know,” he rasped. His pace was nearing on brutal, his whole body shaking as he held off his release for you. “Together. We’ll – together.”
And then, your muscles tighten. You clenched around his cock, and it only took one more thrust against your g-spot to have you falling apart underneath him. You put a hand over your mouth as you cried out, careful of the rest of the party hearing. Your eyes rolled back, his fingers stroking your clit through it, and it all just felt too, too good. Your orgasm went on forever, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over you. As your walls spasmed around his cock, he groaned low, finally spilling into you. His hips stuttered. His mouth gasped for air against your lips, as he felt a ripple of relief from emptying himself inside you. He bit into your shoulder again to muffle his own noises. Your pussy convulsed, milking every last drop, and you were pretty sure you saw stars.
Once the aftershocks hit you both, he slumped against you, breathing in the scent of your hair again. Your fingers traced small circles onto his back muscles, your chest rising and falling with the fast beat of your heart. When his cock went soft inside you, his fingers finally left your clit and he brought them to his mouth. Your eyes were half-lidded as you watched him wrap his lips around his fingers and suck the juices off, moaning at the taste. He looked like an intricate painting; you couldn’t help but admire the sight.
His fingers left his mouth with a wet pop, and he whispered in a voice so soft you almost didn’t hear him, “You just taste so, so good.”
Laios kissed you again, slow and full of affection. You didn’t even care that he was still inside you; you could stay like this forever, pressed into his warm skin. Gods, you liked him so much that you immediately whimpered as his tongue slid into your mouth, and when he shuddered at your fingers on his back … you couldn’t believe you once questioned if he returned your feelings. You had both been so oblivious.
His mouth moved away from yours and he cupped your cheek. He took a moment to memorize the dusting of red across your face, the way your eyes hardly opened after sex, and then said, “Are you hungry? I think we both need a snack. It’s been a long night already.”
You giggled. “You had me at hungry.”
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evansbby · 4 months
Text
𝐖𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒☆.。.:*
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𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐕 - 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐲 𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐛
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: mean jock!Ari Levinson x naive!reader, mean jock!Steve Rogers x naive reader
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smutt, dubcon, daddy!kink, size difference, innocence kink, HEAVY MENTIONS OF ALCOHOL AND DRUG CONSUMPTION, mentions of depression, mentions of self-medication, seriously, if you're sensitive about that kind of stuff please do not read, 18+ only, minors dni!
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You're done with both Ari and Steve. But they're not quite done with you...
𝐀/𝐍: Here it is. Again, I'm putting up a disclaimer: Please beware of the strong mentions of irresponsible alcohol and drug consumption in this chapter. Also be aware of the depictions of depression in this chapter. Stay safe & only read what you are comfortable with. This is a dark story. This is chapter 4 of Wicked Games. It is 33.6k words. Enjoy, besties!
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Steve: Hey. Look, I’m really sorry about what happened yesterday. Things got out of control and I really did not mean to scare you. Could we talk in person?
Steve: I did plan a date for us. I know you don’t believe me, but I did. For whatever that’s worth. Look, just text me back, okay? Or answer my calls.
Steve: Sometimes I just get like that. Even if you don’t understand, just reply and say you’ll talk to me. I’ll explain everything. Please.
Steve: Can’t you see I’m trying? I want us to work.
Steve: It wasn’t just about sex to me. I know that’s what it looked like but it wasn’t.
Steve: ?????
Each time your phone pings with a new text, you feel a stronger urge to just throw it out the window. Oh, why couldn’t he just leave you alone? You feel awful and on edge, the night’s sleep had done you absolutely no good. You’d tossed and turned the whole time, crying and feeling sad about how terribly your “date” had gone down yesterday. How you’d been used. How it was all just about sex for him, no matter what he claimed.
Your phone starts pinging again.
Ari: Are you okay?
Ari: You need to tell me exactly what he did to you. I’ll set him straight, I promise. I just need to know what he did.
Ari: You were really worked up yesterday so I gave you your space but I’m worried. And pissed off. Just answer me.
Ari: Pick up your phone.
Ari: I’m coming over.
No, no, no. You don’t want him to come over. You don’t want to see either of them. To hell with their mood swings and cocky egos and fake concern for you. Now you know there was only one thing that men like Ari and Steve truly ever wanted from you – sex. Fuck them both. If Ari came over now, you’d scream your head off and not let him in again.
You were done. Completely and irrevocably done. Not just with Ari and Steve, but with men and relationships in general. You were going to make a solemn vow to yourself that from now on, that–
A sudden knocking on your door interrupts your thoughts. Pressing your lips into a thin line, you feel the anger surge through you. Who the fuck was that? Ari? He’d only just sent his last message a minute ago – how was he already here?
A wave of anxiety overtakes you suddenly… What if it was Steve?
Another knock. But it sounds a lot softer than Ari’s usual loud banging – which was what he did on days where he’d forget your dorm key at home.
“Y/N?” You hear a faint, familiar voice from the other side of the door. “Are you there?”
Huh. That was definitely not Steve or Ari…
It takes you about five seconds to haul yourself off your bed and across the room. You open the door cautiously, only to find Sharon standing there. Her face is swollen, red and blotchy, her shiny and usually pristinely styled hair scraped back in a low, sad ponytail. Not a trace of makeup on her face, and she’s wearing a loose, wrinkled St. Andrews sweatshirt instead of her usual cheerleading uniform.
“Ari broke up with me!” She bursts into tears, pulling you into a hug that you have no choice but to return. And the guilt is immediate, spreading throughout your body, thrumming through your bloodstream along with dread. Of course, you knew Ari had dumped her… for you.
“Oh, Sharon…” you mumble against her sweatshirt, a huge lump forming in your throat, “I’m so, so sorry.” Sorrier than you realise…
Sharon sniffles, “I know we’re not really close, but I just didn’t know who else to talk to about this. All my friends are also his friends, or girlfriends of his friends, and…and…and I just needed someone who was my friend, and not his, and–” She breaks out into a fresh wave of tears, hugging you tightly again, burying her face in your neck as she cries. You awkwardly pat her shoulder, feeling like the world’s worst person.
“Come in,” you say reluctantly. Sure, you had your own problems, but you weren’t just going to leave her crying out in the hallway, were you? Especially not since you were basically the reason for her tears.
She smiles weakly, “Thank you.”
You manage to quickly type out a message to Ari while she isn’t looking:
Sharon’s here. Don’t come over. And stop texting me.
“It just came so out of nowhere,” she says, following you into your room and sitting on the edge of your bed, “Well, we weren’t having sex like how we used to but I just assumed he was stressed about basketball or something.”
“Wait, the two of you weren’t having sex?” You blurt out a tad too eagerly, but she doesn’t seem to notice. You sink down beside her, “I mean… wow… so you guys weren’t being – uh – intimate?”
Sharon shakes her head, using the sleeve of her sweatshirt to wipe her eyes, “Not for, like, the past month. But I really didn’t think he was cheating on me… But he basically told me he was dumping me because there was someone else.”
Your heart jumps up to your throat, “H-He said that?”
“Yeah. Well, at first, he kept saying the whole ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ crap.” She snorts, aggressively twining a loose strand of her blonde hair round and round her pointer finger, “But I told him to be honest and just tell me straight up, and I was yelling and so upset and finally he said that there was someone else. Can you believe that?”
Your hands feel clammy, the guilt and anxiety churning around in your stomach like a witch’s cauldron. Should you tell her now? Tell her that you’re the reason her boyfriend dumped her? That you’d been sleeping with Ari behind her back for months? Oh God… You were an awful person, weren’t you? Well, you hadn’t known about Sharon at first… and back then you were innocent enough to believe Ari when he said he’d broken up with her. But you’d wisened up to that and still had sex with him at the party, hadn’t you?
You gulp, “Sharon, there’s something–”
“And can you believe that for a split second I thought it was you?” She says suddenly, her eyes wide and unblinking.
Your blood freezes, “I, I–”
“I know, I know… Totally ridiculous, right?” She laughs. And you’d expected her laugh to be all cute and twinkly and perfect how she is, but it’s low and hoarse and ironic. She squeezes your arm, “I hate that my mind even went there. I don’t know you that well but I just know you wouldn’t do that to me, Y/N.”
“Sharon–”
 “It’s just that one time, at that basketball practice when the ball hit your face. The way Ari carried you off… I just got this feeling in my gut, you know?” She laughs again, “But that was just Ari being Ari, stepping up and taking charge of a situation when no one else would. And it’s awful of me to even think you’d do something like that when you’d just got struck in the face and were probably in a lot of pain. Gosh, I’m so sorry for even thinking it!”
She hugs you again. You can smell her sweet perfume, and it goes straight to your head, making you feel sick. Or maybe it’s the guilt eating away at your insides that’s making you feel sick.
“There’s something I have to tell you–”
“–We were together for almost a whole year, you know?” Sharon cuts you off again. “I was gonna take him home for Thanksgiving and everything.” She’s still hugging you, and her cheek rests against the bare nape of your neck. You weren’t used to being this touchy with your girlfriends, but you continue to pat her back nonetheless, feeling like the world’s most awful person ever.
“He’s just the world’s most awful person ever!” She cries, “Like he threw our relationship away like it was nothing! And I was so good to him, Y/N!”
“I know, I know,” you say softly. You feel a wave of disgust for Ari overtake you, but the disgust you feel at yourself overshadows it completely.
“But maybe it’s for the best,” She sits up suddenly, her eyes wide and glistening, an almost daring look on her face, your hand still encased in hers. “Maybe me and Ari weren’t meant to be, and he was just a stupid phase in my life.”
“He’s just a fuckboy,” you agree truthfully, despite feeling rotten over your role in all of this. “You can do so much better than him, Sharon.”
She nods, “Yeah, I think so too. I mean, he’s super hot and all, but…” And then she pauses, looking at you with a curious expression. She bites her lip, still holding on to your hand. “Maybe this is too much information, but lately, even when I was, you know, taking care of myself… I wouldn’t think of him. I’d think of someone else.”
“That’s good!” You say enthusiastically. “Who were you thinking of? Like an actor or singer or something? Or a cute guy in one of your classes?”
She stares at you a bit longer, before suddenly dropping her gaze, “Yeah, something like that. Anyways, thank you so much for being there for me, Y/N. I know I just barged into your room unannounced.”
At that moment, your phone vibrates. Once, twice, three times. More texts. You’re thankful you left your phone facedown; in case they were from Ari and she saw.
“That’s probably Steve, isn’t it?” Sharon says.
You nod quickly, suddenly in a hurry to stop talking about Ari, “Yeah. They’re all from him. He’s been texting me nonstop since last night when me and him had a fight.”
“Oh no. Is everything gonna be okay?”
You shake your head tersely, not wanting to talk about the disastrous date. “No. Me and him are over. Forever.” And so are me and Ari.
Sharon nods, giving you another hug. “Men are trash. I’m so glad we have each other, Y/N. I’m so happy we’re friends now.”
You swallow harshly, hoping the guilt isn’t so evident on your face. Inside your head, there’s about a million different thoughts racing each other. Should you tell her about Ari now? Or wait till later when she was more distanced from the situation and less distraught? Oh God, it was like problems followed you wherever you went! First Steve, then Ari, and now Sharon was in the mix too. And the worst part was, how kind she was being. How genuinely good she was and how she didn’t deserve to be lied to in the least.
I’ll tell her, you promise yourself. I swear I’ll tell her soon…
***
“You need to stop moping around so much,” Wanda says as the two of you walk down the corridor after a lecture. Well, she walks. You just drag your feet. It’s been two days since the “date” with Steve and the subsequent scene with Sharon in your dorm room, and your emotions have been all over the place.
“Like okay, so the Steve thing didn’t work out. It’s not the end of the world, is it? Just get over it.” Wanda continues scanning the crowd of people in the hallway.
“I just feel like nobody wants a relationship with me, Wanda.” You say softly. “All they ever seem to want is sex.”
“Huh? Yeah, that really sucks,” she says distractedly, standing on her tip-toes to look over the sea of heads all milling around or heading to their next class. “Where’s Curtis? He agreed to meet me here.”
Your stomach drops. Curtis again? Oh, you hope Ari’s not with him! You’d successfully been able to avoid him since the night he’d left your dorm room, and you didn’t want to break that streak now.
Wanda spots her boyfriend a moment later and squeals, jumping up and down trying to get his attention. Thankfully, he isn’t with Ari. But he is standing in a cosy corner of the corridor, deep in conversation with a tiny brunette cheerleader. You watch as she laughs at something he said and puts her hand on his chest.
You glance warily at Wanda, but she still has that determined bright smile on her face as she charges over to him, pulling you along with her.
“Curtis! Hey!” She wraps her arms around his neck territorially, plastering her lips on his. The cheerleader smirks, and you see her wink at him before she leaves. Only then does Curtis finally give his girlfriend some attention. You stand there, awkwardly staring at your shoes for the next five minutes while they noisily kiss next to you.
“You still in a bad mood, sweetheart?” Curtis grins once the two of them finally break apart.
“She’s always in a bad mood,” Wanda interjects before you can respond, “Hey, Curtis, you wanna check out the new drive-in theatre downtown? I don’t have any more classes today and I know you don’t either.”
Curtis yawns, “I don’t know. I kinda just wanna chill today.”
“Oh. That’s fine too, I guess. You wanna just grab lunch on campus?”
“Nah. I think I’ll just head back home. I have stuff to do.”
Wanda nods, “Okay, can I come too?”
He shrugs, “Sure. If you must.”
They start towards the exit, and you have no choice but to follow them. But when Wanda stops to talk to one of the girls in her Philosophy class, Curtis shoots you a smirk.
“Sweetheart, why don’t you come back to my place too?”
You frown, “What would I do in your room with you and Wanda?”
The spark in his eye is nothing short of devilish, “I could think of a few things the three of us could get up to.”
“You’re disgusting, Curtis.”
“You sure about that? I have some more of those magic pills you’re such a huge fan of. The three of us could have some fun.” His eyes rake over your body brazenly, and you feel the urge to throw up. So, it was true. All men viewed you as an easy hook-up. A slut. Ari, Steve, now Curtis too.
“What the hell is wrong with you? Wanda is your girlfriend and you should have more respect for her.”
He rolls his eyes, “You’re one to talk about respecting girlfriends.”
The jab stings, especially since it has a ring of truth to it. But you glare up at him nonetheless, “Fuck you.”
“Are you and Ari both perpetually in a bad mood these days or what?”
“I’m not speaking to Ari, so I wouldn’t know what kind of mood he’s in.” You answer curtly.
“He’s in a shitty mood, I’ll tell you that much,” Curtis snorts. “You’d think he’d be over the fucking moon after finally dumping Sharon, but now all he does is glare at his phone because you won’t answer his texts.”
Sure, Ari had been continuously texting and calling you for the past two days, but you’d gotten better at ignoring him. The last text you’d sent him was when you’d told him not to come over because Sharon was there.
“Are we ready to go, babe?” Wanda asks, waving goodbye to the girl from her Philosophy class.
Curtis stretches and grunts, “Yeah, let’s go,” He looks over at you, “You need a lift to wherever you’re headed?”
“No, she doesn’t!” Wanda interjects quickly, grabbing his hand and tugging him towards the exit impatiently, “You wanted to be alone, didn’t you, Y/N?”
You shrug, “Sure.”
Watching them leave hand in hand, you stand there in a sea of people – and yet you feel more alone than ever. You know you need to snap out of this funk, but it’s so hard. Even now, as you look around, you can see about five different couples. All happily hanging out, talking, eating lunch together, kissing, holding hands. Would you ever experience anything normal like that?
You’re about to leave when someone grabs your wrist, yanking you sideways. You yelp, barely catching a glimpse of Ari’s brown waves before you’re pulled into an empty corridor.
“Ari! What the fuck–”
“Stop it with the ignoring my texts shit!” He spits out, eyes already blazing, “I’ve been worried sick about you.”
“Let go of me.”
Surprisingly, he does. But he blocks your path with his huge frame, stepping in front of you every time you try to push past him. This continues for a solid minute and a half before you finally huff and give up trying to escape.
“I went to see Steve that night.” Ari says finally.
Your stomach churns at the mention of the blonde’s name.
“I don’t want to hear this.”
“He wasn’t at home. And the other guys in his frat wouldn’t say where he was,” he runs a hand through his hair, “But I’m guessing he was probably hiding out at his parent’s house.”
That was exactly where he was. You knew that.
“Please tell me you didn’t go there.”
Ari regards you closely, as if you’re made out of glass and he’s trying to formulate his sentences as carefully as he can. “I didn’t,” he says finally, sighing, “I was about to, but–”
“Good,” you interrupt, “I don’t need you fighting him or whatever. Not on my behalf.” You narrow your eyes, “How do you even know where his parents’ house is?”
He hesitates, “I don’t know off the top of my head, but I would’ve found out.” He grabs your hands, his blue eyes looking earnest, which is a look you aren’t used to seeing on him at all. “He’s clearly avoiding me, but look, the sooner you tell me what exactly happened between you and him, the sooner I’ll deal with it.”
From over his shoulder, you see a group of cheerleaders walk by. In a panic, you snatch your hands away from him. Was Sharon with them? Had she seen you with him? No. She wasn’t there. And yet now you feel more paranoid than ever.
“We can’t do this, Ari,” you mutter, trying to sidestep him again, “We can’t be seen together now or ever again, so just move so I can leave–”
“No.”
“Yes!” you try not to explode or lose your patience, “This isn’t right, okay? You and me, we’re not right. Sharon doesn’t deserve us going behind her back, she doesn’t–”
“I told you, I broke up with her.”
“That doesn’t make any of this okay, so just move!”
He doesn’t. Instead, he grabs your arm again, tugging you somewhere deep into the corridor before you have a chance to stop him or finish your sentence. And he’s too strong to fight against, so you don’t even try it. The last thing you want is to put any more attention on you or him. Even if Sharon wasn’t around, one of her friends could see you with him and report back to her. And after everything that happened with you and Sharon, you wanted to come clean to her yourself, rather than have her hear about you sleeping with her boyfriend behind her back from somebody else.
“The supply closet? Really, Ari?” You plant your hands on your hips, watching as he shuts and locks the door of the dimly lit room.
He shrugs, “If it’ll get you to stop running away from me...”
“Well, why can’t you just get the message? I’m running for a reason.” You try to push past him, but the closet is way too small to allow that type of movement. He easily grabs your waist and lifts you back in front of him, making you scowl. “Look, I don’t know what you expected would happen between us when you dumped Sharon, I already told you we’re done. She doesn’t deserve this.”
Ari has the audacity to look confused, “Since when do you care about her?”
“Since I developed a brain and realised what we did behind her back for months was wrong!” You explode, hating the fact that you have to spell this out for him. “You know that she came to my dorm room the day after you dumped her? She was a mess, Ari! All because of us, and she doesn’t even know it!”
 He sighs, “If you want, I could come clean to her and tell her it was you who I was sleeping with. You shouldn’t have to deal with that, it’s my problem, anyways.”
“No, you don’t say anything, Ari! I’m going to tell her myself.” Soon.
“Okay, but trust me, don’t worry about her too much. She’s a strong girl, she’ll bounce back.”
You stare at him incredulously. Strong girl? Bounce back? Oh, he was infuriating!
“Whatever, Ari.” You mutter, once more trying to push past him but he places you back in front of him with such ease that it’s almost comical.
“What happened to you that day with Steve?” He asks again, his brow furrowed.
“It’s none of your business.”
He scoffs, folding his arms over his chest. “You came home in tears with your dress all torn up and you expect me to just go about my business as if all that was nothing?”
“Yes. It shouldn’t be too hard for you considering you’ve left me in tears yourself a couple of times.” You think back to the frat party, how he’d left you drunk, high and in tears in the bathroom. By the guilt that flashes in Ari’s eyes, he remembers too.
“I told you I was sorry about that.”
You shrug, “Whatever. It doesn’t matter anyways. You used me, and Steve used me too.” Your voice almost breaks but you clear your throat quickly, not wanting to cry in front of him.
“What do you mean Steve used you?” Ari grabs your shoulders with a note of urgency. “Did he do something you didn’t want to do? Did he fuck you? Goddamit, I told you not to speak to him!”
Shaking out of his grasp, you feel another flash of anger. The same flash you’d felt surge through you the night you’d kicked Ari out of your dorm room. A part of you wants to start yelling and screaming again, but you know you can’t do that here.
“What does it matter, anyways?” You snap, feeling the walls building up around you. Half of you wants to scream and the other half wants to curl up and cry. The two emotions swirl inside you like a whirlpool, making you feel lightheaded.
A handful of seconds go by and all Ari does is stare at you. You can hear him breathing hard, almost erratically, as if deciding his next move. Finally, he bends down so his face is level with yours, his hands leaving your shoulders to cup your cheeks instead. His eyes, so bright blue despite the dark mustiness of the supply closet, bore into yours so intensely.
“Did. He. Fuck. You?”
“No.”
“Did he hurt you?”
You don’t answer, instead staring at the dark nothingness beyond Ari’s shoulder. Maybe if you focused on it hard enough, you could dissociate and float away from this situation. Float away from anyone else who could hurt you or use you or manipulate you. Float away from the guilt, the shame, the sadness, all of it.
Instead, you feel the wind being knocked out of you as Ari roughly pushes you against what feels like a shelf. The wooden edges poke against your back, and your mouth curls in pain.
“Listen to me. I’m not fucking around anymore, okay? You need to tell me what happened right fucking now.” Ari growls, his face inches from yours. It seems like someone’s ignited a fire in his eyes, twin fires – one burning bright in each eye, and you can practically feel the heat of his anger radiating from his being.
“You’re hurting me!” You cry out pitifully.
Like a hot poker, Ari drops you immediately, regret seeping through his features before he takes a deep breath.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just…” He pauses, and for a second his whole face screws up and contorts, like he’s inwardly examining every corner of his brain to conjure up the right thing to say. “Look, I care about you. A lot. And these past two days have been torture, knowing that he did something to you and I couldn’t protect you.”
He sounds sincere, but you know it’s all an act. He doesn’t mean it, he’s only trying to be nice so he can have sex with you later, the voice inside your head cackles.
“So just tell me what he did, and I’ll–”
 “WHAT PART OF IT DO YOU WANT TO KNOW, ARI?” You burst, “What part of the whole ugly thing would you like me to relive first? The part where he promised he’d take me out on a date but he took me to his bedroom instead?” You duck your head in shame, “I suppose I should be used to that by now, but I was stupid enough to let myself hope.”
Ari draws his breath but stays silent.
“Or would you rather I tell you everything he said? Down to the last fucking detail? How he basically implied that I was the world’s biggest slut?” This time, you can’t keep the tears at bay. “H-He said… He said I should stop acting like a nun because I had no problem with you fucking me at the party!”
You don’t mention the part where Steve had also said you’d had no problem spreading your legs for Steve too the night of the party. You have yet to come to terms with and address that little detail, and so you push it back to the depths of your mind for now. Ari couldn’t know about that, not when you didn’t know yourself.
Instead, your face crumples up, and before you realise it, you’re heaving with tears. Waterfalls pouring down your cheeks as you cry and cry. You don’t even notice Ari picking you up, you don’t notice him sitting down on a nearby stool and holding you in his lap. Carefully holding your head against his chest, rocking you back and forth as his other hand rubs up and down your back.
So much for all your bravado, so much for keeping up a strong front and resisting Ari at all costs. Here you were again, crying in his arms like you always ended up doing.
“H-He was so awful!” you sob, burying your head deep in Ari’s shirt, inhaling the manly scent of his aftershave, and it calms your hurting heart a little bit. But not enough. “He said all these mean things, and he…he wouldn’t stop, Ari! I k-kept saying no, but he wouldn’t listen at all! It was like something came over him!”
You fist the soft material of Ari’s jersey, taking comfort in the feel of his strong arms wrapped tightly around you. His familiar, manly scent and his soft hair tickling your face as he holds you carefully against him. And despite everything, you can’t help but note how strange this is. Of course, Ari had held you while you cried about a dozen times – but this seemed different. For one, he wasn’t cooing sweet manipulations into your ear. He was just… silent. You risk peaking up at him through teary eyes, to see him looking straight ahead with a grim look on his face, the beginnings of a sneer forming on his lips.
“It’s okay,” Ari says softly, his voice sounding thick as if there’s something stuck in his throat. Was this what true, earnest sympathy sounded like coming from him? Or was it all just an act? You’re too busy crying and seeking solace in his warm chest to really mull it over, and the beefy basketball player continues to stroke your back, “It’s okay, baby. He won’t hurt you anymore. I promise he won’t.”
“JUST SAY IT ALREADY! Just say ‘I told you so!’” You sob, “He didn’t care about me at all, Ari! Just like you said. He was just using me. He just wanted sex, or to get back at you, or both!”
He doesn’t say I told you so. Instead, his lips press down on top of your head, kissing you gently. And you know you should push him away, but you reason with yourself to hold on to him just for a little bit longer. Just till you felt a little bit better. Was that so wrong?
“He won’t hurt you again,” Ari repeats firmly, now cupping your face with both his hands so you look him dead in the eye.
“He scared me so bad, Ari!” you sniffle, “H-He punched a wall when I said I wanted to leave, and then…and then he wouldn’t let me go!”
Ari mutters something unintelligible under his breath, before using the corner of his sleeve to wipe your cheeks. “How did you get him to stop?”
“I couldn’t. But thankfully, his sister was there and she stopped him.”
Ari freezes, “His sister?”
“Yes.”
“Did she say anything to you?”
“Not really,” you look down at your hands. Recounting the whole horrific ordeal with Steve had caused them to start shaking, and you grip at your skirt to get them to stop. Before you know it, Ari’s larger hands cup your own, holding them in place on your lap, stilling them, calming you.
“Well, don’t worry,” Ari says firmly, “he won’t touch you ever again. I’ll make sure of it.”
His face looks earnest, sincere. A large part of you feels comforted by him, but there’s also a dwindling doubt in the back of your mind. A little speck of mistrust growing larger and larger, fuelled by all the times he’s hurt you. Fuelled by how Steve had hurt you. Despite the fact that you don’t want to, you snatch your hands out of his and shoot up off his lap as if he’s shot you. No. You weren’t going to do this again. You weren’t going to fall for his false promises. Not this time.
“Stop lying,” you say shakily, backing away from him slowly. “You don’t care about me so stop pretending like you do. You just want me for sex, and you’re angry that someone else got close to having me like that too. But you don’t actually care about me or how I feel, Ari, so just stop lying!”
He stands up too, frowning, “I’m not lying. I dumped Sharon. I’ve been texting and calling you this whole time. Hell, I’m standing inside a fucking supply closet just to get a minute alone with you. What part of that says I don’t care?”
“You don’t care,” you repeat softly, “It took me a while to realise it, but now I do. All I’m good for is sex.”
“That’s not true–”
“Yes it is!” You cry, “Remember all the times I begged to be your girlfriend and you came up with a bullshit excuse each time? It’s because you knew that I wasn’t worth anything more than a hook-up for you!” You shake your head bitterly, “God, you must’ve been laughing behind my back at how stupid and naïve I was for expecting more from you. Steve’s probably laughing too. You’re both the same and I’m not going to let you or him or anyone else hurt me ever again! So, for the love of God, just leave me alone!”
You turn to leave, but Ari grabs your hand.
“What’s it going to take to show you that I care about you? Because I’ll do it.”
You don’t turn back around, waiting two long seconds before you tug your hand out of his grip. But you do open your mouth to respond – except nothing comes out. Instead, you sigh. There was really nothing more left to say, was there? Except perhaps just one more thing…
“Nothing, Ari. People don’t just change overnight. Especially not people like you.”
You step out of the supply closet, carefully shutting the door behind you and finally walking away. And hopefully this time, it’s for good.
***
Ari: WTF. Why did you change your lock???
Ari: Stop avoiding me.
Ari: If you weren’t so hellbent on ignoring me, you’d know that I have changed. Just give me a chance to prove it to you.
Ari: ???????
Ari: Steve’s still dodging me, by the way. Me and Curtis went over to his frat house but he wasn’t there again. Clearly, he’s afraid of me, but don’t worry. I promise I’ll make him pay for what he did.
The days go by, and Ari continues to text you daily all while you lock yourself up in your room and pretty much avoid the outside world. And his last text makes you want to tear your hair out. Why couldn’t Ari just butt out of your life and stop trying to fight Steve on your behalf!? You’d never asked for that; you didn’t want that! You just wished the whole ordeal with Steve had never even happened, you wished you could will it out of existence.
And speaking of Steve, he still texted you too. Not as frequently as Ari, which made him better at taking a hint than he was at planning first dates. But you still received a message from him every now and again…
Steve: I get it. I fucked it all up.
Steve: I need to see you again. I’ll make it right. Please.
And sure, there was a tiny part of you that did want to hear Steve out. But you were afraid of him, afraid of what he’d do or say. Plus, he’d literally lied to you, pretended he was interested in having a relationship with you when really, he just wanted sex. So, who was to say he wouldn’t lie again? Oh God, everything felt so wrong, how could he possibly make anything right!?
And why couldn’t you just block them both and move on!? You wish you could, yet you can’t find it in you to block or delete either of their numbers. Not Ari’s, and not even Steve’s. Maybe it’s the naïve little girl inside you, the insecure little girl who wants to hold on to the only male attention she’s ever gotten – despite the fact that your relationships with both men had gone up in smoke. And so you settle with just muting and archiving their chats. Out of sight, out of mind – except not really. But it’s the best you can do for now.
And you feel more alone now than ever. With Wanda always preoccupied with Curtis, you had nobody to confide your heartbreak in. But ironically, you began to grow closer with Sharon. On the rare occasions you actually left your dorm room and made it into campus for your lectures, she always seemed to find you. You realised quickly that she no longer hung out with her usual cheerleader friends. Either she herself had opted to leave them, or they’d decided to leave her because she was no longer the basketball captain’s girlfriend. Either way, you didn’t ask.
“It’s probably one of them,” Sharon mutters darkly one day as the two of you walk past a gaggle of cheerleaders, “The bitch he was cheating on me with. It’s probably one of them.”
You gulp. You had yet to come clean to her – but you could never find the right moment. And as time went by and she started spending more and more time with you, it got even harder to just drop the bomb and be like, oh hey, by the way! That bitch who your boyfriend cheated on you with? That was me!
But apart from all that, Sharon was good company. Both of you were dealing with heartbreak (she seemed to be dealing with hers better than you were dealing with yours), and so there was a kind of understanding between the two of you. Not to mention, hanging out with her turned out to be useful in keeping Ari away from you. Any time he spotted you on campus, he’d start making a beeline for you before freezing when he realised you were with her.
“You know, I think I figured out why both Ari and Steve treated us the way they did.” Sharon pipes up one day whilst the two of you are leaving campus. “It’s because we’re too nice.”
“Hm?” You barely utter a word, just wanting to get home and wallow in bed. You hadn’t told Sharon the extent of what had happened between you and Steve on your “date.” All she knew was that it was over, and you never wanted to speak to him again.
“Yeah, it’s because we’re too nice. Bad bitches don’t get their hearts broken, but nice girls always do.” She says, unscrewing her lip gloss and touching up her lips. Unlike you, she’d gotten some of her pep back since her breakup. In a way, you were glad. You’d rather her be happy than you – she deserved it after getting cheated on. 
You manage to laugh cynically, which eggs the blonde on as she continues.
“I’m serious. From here on out, let’s promise not to take any shit from anyone. That way, no one can hurt us again.”
No one hurting you ever again? That sounded like a dream. You knew you could be naïve at times, especially months ago when Ari had first started hooking up with you. Back then, you really thought you’d hit the jackpot and found yourself the perfect boyfriend. Now, months later, it was like you’d mentally matured at rapid speed. Could you be tougher now? Stop being the stupid, naïve little girl that kept getting played by men?
“That’s easier said than done,” you remark softly.
Sharon shrugs, “It’s worth a shot. I think if you act like an ice queen well enough, people are gonna know not to fuck with you. So, like, next time Steve tries to approach you or sweet-talk you into taking him back, just act like you couldn’t care less. Keep a strong resolve, he’ll get the message.”
You think back to all the times in the past you’ve tried to keep a strong resolve. Not with Steve, but with Ari. And every single time, you’d ended up crumbling and crying in his arms. Giving him the perfect opportunity to manipulate you again. Would the same thing happen with Steve? Who could be extremely charming and angelic when he wanted to be? You hoped not…
Turns out you don’t have to wonder that for too long. Because as you walk up to your dorm building after parting ways with Sharon, you see Steve sitting on the stairs of the entrance. He stands up quickly when he spots you, and your heartbeat quickens. Oh no, why was he here!?
“I didn’t mean to ambush you,” Steve calls out when you stop dead in your tracks a few feet away from him. “But you wouldn’t return any of my calls.” He starts making his way over to you, and you remain frozen in place. Despite every cell in your body screaming for you to run.
“Please, stay away from me.” You mumble.
Steve stops short, holding his hands up defensively, “I’m not going to hurt you. I just wanted to apologise.” His face softens, and you notice how he’s got a bit of facial hair now, like he hasn’t shaved since you last saw him. His hair looks scruffier too. He’s also got dark circles under his eyes, like he hasn’t slept. In fact, in his black hoodie (the hood up) and black sweats, he looks about as depressed as you feel.
“Sorry, I’m not interested in your apology.” You stick your nose up and resume walking, trying your hardest to follow Sharon’s advice and be the stone-faced ice queen who didn’t let anything phase her.
Steve, of course, follows you up the steps and into your building.
“I wasn’t thinking straight that day in my bedroom. Sometimes I get like that.”
“I don’t care.” You try to sound nonchalant, but now you’re a bit scared. What if he followed you all the way up to your room? Forced his way inside? Locked the door and had his way with you like how he’d tried to last time? There was no Kira here to pacify him, either… Abruptly, you turn around, trying to keep your voice from shaking, “Steve, please don’t follow me inside.”
He bites his lip, looking every bit as handsome as he always did. Which sucked, because he deserved to have somehow become ugly after how horrible he’d been the last time you’d seen him. But no such luck, he still looked angelic. A bit dark and twisted and scruffy, but angelic nevertheless.
“But I need to explain to you why I acted the way I did.”
A bitter chuckle forces itself out your mouth, fear momentarily forgotten. “I know why you acted the way you did. You wanted sex, and you thought I was so naïve and easy, that I would easily provide it for you. And when I didn’t, you lost it.
“No, that’s not it at all!”
You jump at his tone, but try to keep your expression unfazed. “Well, I don’t care and I’m not interested.”
He clenches his fists, his jaw tensing too. But he relaxes when he notices the way your eyes widen in fear, and how you take a few steps back.
“Please, fuck, just don’t be scared of me.” He holds his hands up defensively again, and this time, you notice one of them is bandaged up. The one he punched the wall with. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“No, you already did that, Steve.” You turn back around and continue walking up to your dorm room, trying so hard to appear nonchalant.
“I’m not the best at controlling my emotions, okay?” He calls out behind you, and the steady patter of his footsteps reveals he’s still following you as you go up the stairs of your building. “My parents, they’ve made me see a bunch of doctors for it, and lately I’ve been able to cope but I’ll admit, something inside me snapped that day, and I took it out on you when I shouldn’t have, and–”
 “DIDN’T YOU HEAR ME? I SAID I’M NOT INTERESTED IN ANYTHING YOU HAVE TO SAY!” You reach your door before angrily whipping around, “Just leave me alone, alright? I don’t care if you’re sorry, it doesn’t take back the fact that you lied and made it seem like you wanted to date me when really all you wanted was sex! Not to mention, all the vile things you said and how scary you got. Now just leave me the fuck alone!”
Quickly, you slip inside your room and slam your door shut, locking it at lightning speed. Steve calls out your name, he knocks, he rattles your doorknob. And all you do is lean against the door, breathing fast and willing yourself not to cry. It was okay, he wouldn’t hurt you. There was a locked door between the two of you.
“(Y/N), please. Just give me another chance,” Steve knocks again, “I know I acted like a complete asshole, okay? I knew it the second I snapped out of it. And I really didn’t mean to say all those things.”
You feel that sudden flash of anger again. Bolting through you like lightning. After everything he’d said to you, after he’d forced himself on you… The best he could come up with was “I was an asshole and I didn’t mean it,”!? No, you couldn’t let him get off that easily. There were things that needed explaining and questions that needed to be answered.
Before you can think better of it, you throw the door back open. Of course, he’s still standing there, and you muster up the toughest, most ice queen-esque expression you can possibly make.
“Fine. We can talk.” You fold your arms over your chest, “But you need to answer me honestly. So don’t try to lie or manipulate me.”
Steve nods immediately, “Okay. Thank you.” He steps forward, as if he’s trying to get into your room. You quickly raise a hand up.
“No. Out here.” You don’t feel comfortable being in a bedroom alone with him. You take a deep breath, “You said that I spread your legs for you the night of the party. What did we do? And don’t lie.”
“We hooked up.” Steve meets your steely gaze evenly, before shaking his hoodie off his head and running a hand through his scruffy hair. It’s gotten long enough that the ends are starting to curl up, kind of like how Ari’s do – not that that was relevant at all right now. “In the cab when I was taking you home. We didn’t have sex, but we hooked up and I got you off.”
You wrack your brain, willing yourself to remember that night. But all you can muster up are fragmented pieces of memory. In the car with him, and you remembered how good he’d smelled. You remember his varsity jacket, and how it had somehow ended up around your shoulders. But… what else? Oh! You remember being in his lap, you remember the car hitting some bumps, and… Oh.
You nod slowly, “So then why did you lie? At the practice game, when you could’ve mentioned what happened?”
Steve exhales, “I did, but you were all confused. I thought you’d remember, but when I realised you didn’t, I just… Well, I don’t know why I didn’t say anything. I just… didn’t.”
For a guy who was so hell bent on explaining things to you, his explanations sure did suck.
You laugh bitterly, “No, you were too busy flaunting me in front of Ari’s face during that practice.” God, how could you have been so stupid!?
“Look, I said I’d answer everything and tell you the whole truth,” He shifts from one foot to the other, scratching his neck as if debating whether to say what he’s about to say, “And yes, I’ll admit that a part of me was using you to get to Ari.”
It feels like a punch to your gut. You’d suspected it, but the fact that he was so readily confirming it made it all the worse. With just a few words, Steve had confirmed all your insecurities. Not only did he not want to date you, not only was he just using you for sex… Oh no, as if that wasn’t enough, he’d also been using you as a pawn in whatever sick, longstanding rivalry he had with Ari.
Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry…
“Please don’t cry,” Steve steps forward, closing the gap between the two of you. And you’re so distraught by the bomb he’s dropped on you, that you don’t even try to run away from him. Instead, you lean against the door, breathing heavily, trying to keep your tears at bay.
He continues, “This is me being honest, alright? Something Ari never is with you. And yes, I wanted him to be jealous, I wanted to get a rise out of him, so I flaunted you in front of him. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t care about you. I still care about you.”
“How can you possibly say you care about me after everything you’ve just admitted?” You manage to get out as you try to get your breathing back into order.
“Because I do care! I think I’d know what I’m feeling better than you would!” He’s growing visibly frustrated. “Fuck, sorry. I’m so bad at explaining shit.” He smacks his forehead hard several times and yet you don’t even have it in you to flinch.
“Goddamit, look, I’ll start from the beginning.” He takes a few, gulping breaths. “When I first saw you at the party, it had nothing to do with Ari, I didn’t even know that you knew him. I approached you that night because you looked cute and lost, and I liked how feisty and sweet you were–”
“That’s a lie!” You wipe at your eyes roughly, “That’s a fucking lie, Steve. Aren’t you forgetting what you said last time you saw me? You knew what Ari and I did that night, you called me a slut for spreading my legs for him in the middle of a party! And you expected I’d do the same for you.”
“No, that’s not it at all!”
He gulps as if trying to get his breathing even once more, and you realise that’s his way of calming himself down. And you can tell that he’s trying, that he’s trying so hard not to have a meltdown like last time, and you just look at him apprehensively. You know you could back away at any moment, slam the door in his face again and lock it and be done with him. And yet, your feet remain planted in place, as if a part of you just has to hear him out.
“I’m sorry I called you a slut. It’s all a big fucking blank in my head, like I blacked out and said all those things. And I never saw you and Ari fucking at the party or anything like that. I only found that out days later through the grapevine. But I shouldn’t have used it against you, that was wrong of me. I’m sorry I fucked it all up by saying that. You didn’t deserve it.”
You shake your head but he hurriedly continues, “I was always going to ask you out, Ari or no Ari. It’s only when I saw how jealous he got when he saw you with me, that I realised how much he liked you. That he liked you more than he liked his own girlfriend. That’s when I realised I could be with you and get back at him at the same time.”
Get back at him!? For what? Did you even care, at this point?
Anger. Fear. Confusion. Pure fucking discombobulation. That’s what you feel. So much so, that you don’t even know what to say or how to act.
Steve takes your lack of response as his cue, moving forward and reach out to cup the side of your face slowly. And you fucking hate how soft and warm his hand feels, how it’s bigger than your whole head yet feels gentle at the same time. Gentle, when the last time he’d had his hands on you, he’d been holding you down on his bed while he tried to force himself on you.
“But I like you too,” Steve says quietly, almost like a whisper, “I like you more than he ever could. And whenever I like something, whenever I have something good in my life, I always fuck it up. But this time, for once in my life I want to make things right.”
“I kept telling you to stop,” you whisper, squeezing your eyes shut as the memories from that night barge their way back into your head. “Y-You ripped my dress.”
“I’m so sorry, baby girl.”
“You wouldn’t stop, Steve. It’s like you weren’t there, like something came over you and you weren’t there anymore.”
He nods fervently, his fingers stroking your cheek, “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I can’t help that I’m like this, I really fucking wish I could be normal and react normally to things like how other people do. I wish it more than anything in the fucking world.”
It’s like he’s a completely different man from the one you’d first met and thought you knew. The man who’d been so shrouded in mystery, oozing with confidence and charm. His intense aura, the smoothness with how he’d spoken to you in the past. But in this moment, it’s like all of that had melted away. And here he was, stripped back. Rough round the edges with bags under his eyes, an earnest look on his face. And this time when you look into his eyes, for a moment it’s like you really see him; you see someone fighting to be normal, desperate for another chance. Oh, should you…?
And then you blink. And there it is again: Steve, the very same man, saying all those vile things to you. All because you wouldn’t fuck him. Him ripping your dress, him holding you down. Him losing his temper. Him punching the wall. The way he’d held you so hard, not letting you leave. That dark, faraway look in his eyes. How scared you’d been… And here you were, letting him cup your face and speak all tenderly with you!?
What if he got like that again?
It’s like a lash of electricity jolts through you. You push Steve away hard.
“Listen to me carefully, Steve, because I’m not gonna say this again. You’re not who I thought you were. You lied about what happened on the night we met, and you lied about your intentions with me. It doesn’t matter if you say you wanted to date me, because your past actions speak louder than whatever words you’re saying now.” You take a deep breath, “That’s why I want you to leave me alone. Forever. Just walk out right now and never look back. Because I’m done with you. And I really, truly mean it.”
He freezes, an unreadable expression on his face. A myriad of emotions flitter through his eyes. Shock, sadness, anger. Disbelief. Resignation. And then…
“And what about Ari?” He says quietly, “You’re choosing him?”
“No, I–”
Steve spits out a bitter laugh, as if he wasn’t gently cupping your face and promising you everything just five seconds ago.
“You don’t know him, (Y/N). Okay fine, I wasn’t completely honest with you and I guess that means I’ve fucked things up between us forever. But you think Ari hasn’t lied to you?”
“I know he’s lied–”
“YOU DON’T KNOW THE HALF OF IT!” Out of nowhere, he raises his voice. And it cuts you like a sword, reverberating off the walls. You flinch at the booming loudness of his words, the aggressiveness back on his angelic face and now he’s scaring you again. “You don’t know what he’s done, okay!?”
“You’re scaring me.”
You try to say it calmly, but your voice breaks right at the end. Steve blinks rapidly, several times. Breathing hard, he looks down at his fingers which are enclosed tightly around your arm. Just like that day in his room. Like a hot poker, he drops it immediately. And again, it’s like he’s waking up from some sort of a momentary trance. Or rather, a momentary wave of anger.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats in a low tone, “but if you knew the things he’s done, you wouldn’t have picked him–”
“I HAVEN’T PICKED HIM!” It’s your turn to explode. “I didn’t pick him, Steve. This isn’t about picking anyone. I’m done with you, and I’m done with Ari too. I’m picking neither of you. Goodbye.”
You turn around and slam your door shut before he can get another word out.
***
“It’s like, a fundraising gala type thing held at the Hilton. The money raised gets split down the middle, half going towards the basketball team and half towards the cheerleaders,” Sharon explains, twirling a piece of her blonde hair around her finger. “Which, by the way, I think is totally lame, because the basketball team doesn’t even need any more funding. Unlike the cheerleaders.”
She swivels around in your desk chair, her sock clad feet waving around in the air. Outside, the sun sparkles and a gentle breeze flows in through your window. The weather had been great lately, as if the atmosphere knew you’d finished the final chapter of the Ari and Steve saga and closed the book on both of them. As if nature itself was willing you to go outside and begin your new chapter, one where you were sexy and single and thriving.
So then why could you still not find it in you to step outside of your room on most days?
“I’ve been on the planning and decorating committee for the Athletic Society’s Annual Gala for the past two years,” Sharon continues, “it’s like, one of the biggest events of the year. All these important sports execs and school alumni show up, not to mention half the college. Wanda, I’m guessing you’re going with Curtis, right?”
“Huh?” Wanda glances up from her phone for a split second, looking as if she has not the slightest clue what Sharon is on about. Burying her nose back into her screen, her acrylics start tapping ferociously. And it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to guess who she’s texting. In fact, you were surprised when she’d showed up alongside Sharon outside your dorm room this morning. It was very hard to pin down Wanda lately, since all her time was devoted to her boyfriend.
Sharon raises an eyebrow before shifting her attention back to you, “Well anyways, I think this would be a great opportunity for you to get out of your funk, Y/N. We could go together! As friends, obviously.” She adds hastily.
You manage to muster up a smile, “I don’t know…”
“Oh, come on! It’s been weeks since you ended things with Steve!” Sharon says, and you no longer shiver when his name is mentioned. It’s like the last confrontation you had with him cleared up the fog in your head a little bit. It still depressed you to the core, to know that you’d been used, but at least you didn’t flinch at his name anymore. That was something.
He’d also stopped texting you at all anymore. Which you should be happy about, and yet you still found yourself looking at your chat with him. God, what was wrong with you!? He’d finally left you alone just like how you’d wanted him to, and yet a part of you still felt like it was yearning for him.
“And I know how much you love dressing up and doing your makeup. Hey, we could even go shopping together for dresses!” The blonde claps her hands, clearly unaware of your current inner turmoil as she works herself up into a frenzy.
“We could make it into a proper girl’s night,” She sits on the other end of your bed with a bounce, “Hey, Wanda, why don’t you get ready with us too? You could always just meet Curtis there.”
Wanda scoffs, “Uh, no. I think I’ll go with my boyfriend, thank you very much.”
Sharon rolls her eyes, “Ugh. Fuck boyfriends. I was gonna go with Ari, but that’s obviously not happening anymore. Plus, a girl’s night sounds a lot more fun.”
Your poor, gullible, traitorous heart jolts. “Ari’s gonna be there?”
Unlike Steve, Ari was still texting you and trying to somehow see you in person. You’d successfully avoided him since the supply closet meeting. And yet, you couldn’t stop thinking about him either. God, were you just incapable of not thinking about the two fuckboys who had fucked your entire life up!?
“Yep, but it won’t bother me, I promise.” Sharon says determinedly, “The banquet hall is huge, so I’ll easily just avoid him. He’s probably gonna be super busy, anyways. Word has it that they’re giving him the Basketball MVP award this year.”
“Oh,” you breathe, before quickly clearing your throat, “I don’t know, Sharon. It sounds like fun, but–”
“Curtis says that he’s going to the gala with the basketball team, and that no one else is bringing dates,” Wanda interrupts you as she reads the latest text from her boyfriend. Finally, she looks up, “I guess I’ll go with you girls, then.”
“Great!” Sharon cheers, “You’re in too, right, Y/N?”
You smile, not really knowing what to say. Being in the same banquet hall as Ari and Sharon? At the same time? That was just trouble waiting to happen.
But is this how you were going to spend the rest of the college year? Letting your feelings towards Ari dictate where you went and didn’t go? You think about the old you, the one before Ari or Steve or anyone. The one who loved to dress up and go out to have fun. Before Wanda had got a boyfriend, the two of you used to go out all the time. Another girls’ night wouldn’t harm anyone, would it?
Sharon senses your hesitation, “Come on,” she urges, “It’s not like Steve’s even gonna be there. It’s strictly a St. Andrews’ event.”
You bite your lip. You doubted you’d ever see Steve again. Clearly, since he no longer texted you either. And a part of you is bittersweet as you think about what could have been. Absentmindedly, your eyes divert to your desk chair, where his blue and white varsity jacket still lies. You hadn’t even thought to throw it away. You bet it still smells like him…
Oh God, you had to get over him. Get over both of them and get the fuck out of this funk you were in. So what if Ari would be there too? This was your chance to prove to yourself that his presence didn’t make a difference in how you lived your life.
You take a deep breath, “Okay. I’ll go.”
***
 PART II
“Open up, sleepyhead. I’m not leaving and I’ll camp outside your door if you don’t open it.”
You’d woken up the next day to a loud knocking on your door. And you’d tried to ignore him. You really had. It was so much easier to just remain in bed, rotting and feeling sorry for yourself despite the promise you’d made yourself to get over the two men who’d betrayed your trust, and get out of the funk you were in. But the knocking was incessant, going from soft-knuckled raps to full on banging. You were sure he’d wake up your entire building, and then you’d have to pay a noise fine.
That’s why I’m opening the door, you think to yourself. Not because I actually want to see him.
And there’s Ari, standing outside your door with a picnic basket under his arm. And he looks kind of funny, his big athletic self holding such a dainty little thing. He also looks extremely pleased with himself, and you don’t even have the energy within you to argue with him or tell him to leave. You and him had gone non-contact ever since the confrontation inside the supply closet. Or rather, you’d gone non-contact whilst Ari tried to find ways to talk to you. He couldn’t corner you on campus anymore because you were usually with Sharon, and you’d changed your locks so he couldn’t exactly barge into your dorm room like how he used to.
“Go away, Ari.”
“Hey, nice to see you too. I come bearing food, because I know you haven’t eaten. And don’t ask me how I know, I just know.” Ari says breezily, and you frown at how chipper he’s acting. As if the last time you’d seen him you hadn’t stormed away and told him the two of you could never see each other again.
He follows you inside, and you quickly swipe Steve’s varsity jacket under your desk so he doesn’t see it. You don’t know why you still haven’t thrown it out but you really can’t be bothered to get into another fight with Ari over it.
Earlier in the day, Sharon had texted you asking if you’d wanted to hang out. You’d declined, finding the comfortability of your bed and the prospect of watching old reruns of trashy reality television much more interesting. What you hadn’t expected was Ari Levinson of all people showing up at your door, however. Although, you’re not too surprised. He was still texting you nonstop, wanting to show you how he’d “changed.”
Ari plops the picnic basket on top of your desk, and you sigh, sitting down on your desk chair while he grabs a stool. You already know how this is going to go. He’d tell you to open it, you’d say no, he’d say yes, you’d say no again. Then he’d open it and make you see the contents anyways. You decide to stop wasting either of your time and look inside the basket yourself.
“Cheese sandwiches?”
“Uh huh. And don’t knock it till you try one, sweetheart. My mom makes these for me.” Ari winks before flashing you a smile. And doesn’t contain even a hint of his usual cockiness or smugness – it’s just a regular little smile that makes his eyes light up all pretty too. And you’re not used to it at all, it looks almost displaced on his face. Was he being genuine? You can’t even tell anymore. But probably not.
You pick one up and eye it carefully, and your heart can’t help but throb at the thought of him standing in his kitchen making it for you. Big, bad basketball captain fuckboy Ari Levinson carefully cutting the sandwich into little triangles and packing it up for you in this little picnic basket. How had Ari even gotten hold of a picnic basket to begin with?
“So, it’s a family recipe?” You take a cautious bite.
“Yep. Passed down from generation to generation. Don’t ask me how you make it because it’s a Levinson family secret,” he grabs a sandwich of his own and wolfs it down in two bites, “I mean, you could always become a Levinson yourself and have my kid, then I’d tell you.”
Your cheeks heat up. Oh, a few weeks ago he didn’t even want a relationship with you and now he was joking about marriage and kids?! Would you ever understand him?
“It must be some recipe,” you remark, trying your best to keep your tone even and unamused. Instead of looking at him, you observe the sandwich. It tastes good – he’s used some type of expensive artisan bread and fancy cheese. A step above your average grilled cheese, and it tastes even better on an empty stomach since he was right, you hadn’t eaten anything since last night.
“It is. Have another one,” he thrusts another sandwich in your hand.
Your frown, “Ari, stop, I don’t want–”
“You haven’t eaten all day, (Y/N).” His tone drops, growing more serious.
“Well, stop acting like you care!” You shoot back.
But Ari looks unperturbed as he helps himself to a third sandwich (he was going through them remarkably fast), “I do care.”
“You don’t.”
“I do.”
“You don’t.”
“Yes, I fucking do,” he says, the slight sharpness in his voice taking you aback. “What other girl have I cooked for and lugged a fucking picnic basket halfway across campus for?”
You settle back begrudgingly, taking another bite out of the sandwich, “I’d hardly call this cooking.”
You know you sound mean and bitter, but it’s like you can’t help it. Like there’s a deep black hole filled with anger still swirling within you. Anger at both Ari and Steve and you don’t know how to sort through it or make it go away.
“Oh yeah? Well, you’ve never cooked for me so I’d say you’re hardly an expert on the subject.” Ari shoots back, grabbing another sandwich from the picnic basket as well as a can of soda. “You want a coke?”
“No.”
You start tearing your sandwich into tiny pieces just so you have something else to focus on and you don’t have to look at his face. Because you’re afraid this newfound earnesty of his, afraid it would reel you back in hook, line and sinker. Afraid he was just putting on an act to convince you he’d “changed.” That’s also why you’re being cold – you can’t let your walls down with him again. Not this time. Not when Sharon was literally your friend now.
“So, I was thinking we could catch a movie after we eat,” Ari continues talking all casually as if the majority of the conversation so far hasn’t been extremely one-sided. “Have you seen the new Godzilla vs Kong? Probably not, you’re not into stuff like that.” He pauses only to consume his sandwich in two huge bites, before grabbing another one. His voracious appetite almost makes you smile. Almost. The only other times you’d seen him look this starved was when he was going down on you…
No, stop! Don’t think about that!
“Sure, we could watch some girly movie instead, but you’d have to pick it because I have no idea about shit like that, obviously–”
“I told you; we can’t go anywhere that Sharon or someone might see us. Besides, the last thing I want to do is go out with you. In fact, you can show yourself out now because I’m gonna go back to bed–”
Ari slams his coke can down on your desk with a loud clunk. You jump, before narrowing your eyes at him. First, he practically broke into your room, then forced you to eat his dumb sandwiches. Now he was making obnoxious noises? Oh, you were just about done with him–
“That’s it.” he grunts, standing up to his full height. You gape up at him, suddenly nervous. You barely have the chance to yelp before he grabs your arm, yanking you up with him.
“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?!”
He lifts you up off the ground with ease, throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. You start pounding on his back immediately, but you only hear him snort in return.
“Put me down right now, Ari! I’m not in the mood for this! Put me down!”
“I gave you a pass to be a little sassy, but you need to remember who’s in charge.” He starts walking across the room. And you may as well have been an insect on his back with how unbothered he was by you wiggling and trying to fight out of his grip. Oh god, what was he going to do?!
Panic bubbles up in your chest, your heartrate increasing tenfold in about five seconds flat. You struggle harder against him, before realising there’s no use. He was way too strong. You shut your eyes and brace yourself; any moment now he’d throw you on the bed and have his way with you just like he always did, just like how Steve had tried to do, and you’d be powerless to stop him because you couldn’t stop anyone, and they all just wanted one thing, and–
“Please don’t,” you whisper, on the verge of tears, “Please, I can’t have sex. I don’t want to have sex, please don’t make me. Please, please don’t make me.”
Ari freezes, and you wish you could see his expression but in your current predicament, dangling over his shoulder, you cannot. But then he starts walking again, and he goes straight past your bed. That’s when you notice the picnic basket in his other hand.
“I’m not trying to sleep with you.” He mutters.
Oh. But then what was he doing?
You get your answer less than a moment later, when he swings your door open and carries you outside. That’s when you start punching his back again.
“Ari, take me back inside! I’m serious, okay? Someone’s gonna see–”
“Then I suggest you stop making so much noise that’s gonna attract attention towards us.” He shoots back, giving you a reprimanding pat on your thigh. Not your ass, you note, but your thigh. Immediately, you shut up. But you fix a scowl on your face, vowing you’d keep it there permanently until he could see it.
A minute later, he dumps you unceremoniously into the passenger seat of his car. By the time you scramble into sitting position, he’s already in the driver’s seat. The doors, predictably, are locked.
“So, it wasn’t enough that you barged into my dorm room uninvited. You felt the need to kidnap me, too?” You snap, irritated yet at the same time slightly amused. But you can’t let him know that. No, you had to maintain your ice queen persona.
“Please,” Ari snorts, starting up the car. “You were talking about going back to bed. If anything, I’m doing you a favour. It’s a nice day, sweetheart, let the sun shine on your face for a few hours.”
You deepen your scowl, crossing your arms over your chest, “I’m not going outside.”
“Yes, you are.”
“No, I’m literally not, Ari. Because you didn’t even think to let me put my shoes on.” You wiggle your bare toes, suddenly feeling the strong urge to smile at the ridiculousness of your whole predicament. But you pout to cover it up, suppressing whatever amusement you’re feeling because you don’t want him to see.
“Don’t fucking pout, it makes me want to kiss you.” Ari murmurs, keeping his eyes on the road but you can see him licking his lips.
“Don’t.”
“Did I say I was going to? I said I want to. There’s a difference.”
Again, you want to smile. You quickly turn your head away, looking out the window instead, watching the trees and buildings roll by as he drives you out of campus. “Whatever, just stay away from me.”
“Don’t be a brat.” There’s a warning edge to his tone, one that you’ve come to know very well. But surprisingly, you don’t feel unsafe. For once, you feel like maybe he won’t just stop the car in the middle of nowhere and try to fuck you.
You’ve been in Ari’s car before, and you’re no stranger to how it always goes when you’re in here. Back in the early days of you two hooking up, he’d pick you up in the dead of the night. And you were so innocent, you’d think of these midnight drives as romantic, magical even. He’d have a cigarette in his mouth, his long hair either slicked back or flowing in the cool night air. A wild look in his eyes as he’d pull you inside and kiss you headily while still trying to focus on the road. And he’d have one hand on your thigh, squeezing it before pushing his fingers between your legs.
In his hazy, smoke-filled car, you’d always find yourself underneath him. Splayed out in his backseat while he licked his lips and loomed above you. His dark silhouette so handsome, and you remember thinking how he was such a bad boy, and you were such a good girl, and how hot it was. He’d tell you how much he loved the tight little skirts you always wore, and yet he’d always rip them in half and then laugh and kiss you when you pouted. Tell you how he’d been waiting all day to fuck you, how he just couldn’t wait now that he had you, that he’d been thinking about you and him, that he just had to have you now.
You remember feeling like such a little girl compared to him. Ari was a senior after all, and you only a freshman. Once, you’d tried to impress him by wearing red lipstick. That night, he’d pulled you over the console and made you suck his dick. Till your red lip prints were all over his fat cock, and he’d told you how you were such a good girl, and he loved how cute you were, and that he knew you were trying to impress him.
 All those nights in his car, and you remember each time you’d ask him if he’d broken up with Sharon, and each time he’d tell you that he was “working on it.” That he didn’t see a future with her, that you were so much more special. “I can’t stop thinking about you and I,” he’d say, blue eyes dreamy and you thought he sounded so earnest. And eagerly you’d say the same, excited that someone like him could ever be that interested in someone like you.
And then he’d push you into the backseat, or he’d stay in the driver’s seat and pull you into his lap. Or sometimes, if the place you were parked at was secluded enough, he would take you on the hood of his car. Fuck you in every way imaginable, use your body for his pleasure whilst also giving you the most intense pleasure you’d ever felt. And sometimes, the moonlight would reflect off his eyes and make him look like something so special, and you’d feel so special, and you’d feel like you were in a movie. You still remember it now.
You doubt Ari does, though. You doubt those nights were ever special to him.
“Where are we?” You ask fifteen minutes later when he pulls up somewhere. You peer out the window and see trees – a bunch of them. He’s parked in a clearing, only a single dirt road leading up to it and the rest of the area covered in a thick forest of trees. The sun sparkles through the leaves, and you can hear birds chirping louder than you ever do back in the city. “Are we in the woods?”
“Yep.” He’s out of the car in an instant, grabbing the picnic backet which he’d thrown haphazardly into the backseat before making his way to your door. “C’mon, let’s go.”
“If you think I’m going to hike out into the woods barefoot–”
Ari scoffs, “Don’t worry your pedicured little feet off, princess,” he turns around, “Hop on.”
You eye him carefully, as if you’re assessing a threat. Going into the woods with Ari of all people may not be the best of gameplans for someone who was actively trying to avoid men in general. When Steve had forced himself on you, it had been in his room and luckily Kira had been nearby. The secluded woods, however, were a completely different story.
And yet, it’s like you know deep down that Ari won’t do anything. Not this time. Then again, you’ve been wrong about him before. Were you being naïve all over again?
Maybe you were, but you hop on to his back anyways. His muscular arms catch you easily as you wind your legs around his waist. Your arms lock around his neck and you nestle close to him instinctively. So close that you can smell his grape shampoo, and you admire how pretty his hair is, how it curls up slightly at the base of his neck like he’s a movie star or something.
You hate how you’re still so attracted to him.
He gives you a piggyback ride all the way into the woods, and it’s kind of neat being up so high. Ari was so tall, and with you on his back you felt like you were six foot six inches too. So this is what he sees, you think to yourself, finally indulging in the nature that surrounds the two of you. The way the oak trees soar up as high as skyscrapers, how the smaller trees sway with the breeze. The rustling of the leaves, and you think you hear a distant trickling of water, too.
“It’s nice here, isn’t it?” Ari breaks the comfortable silence, continuing to trek forward into the woods.
You’re about to heartily agree, before you remember the cold persona you’re meant to be adopting with him. So, in the dullest, most bored and nonchalant voice you can muster up, you say: “It’s whatever, I guess.”
He snorts.
You frown, “Are you laughing at me?”
“Nope.” He sounds amused.
“Yes, you are!”
“Well, it’s cute how you’re trying so hard to be something you’re clearly not.”
You’re thankful that he can’t see the way your jaw drops open, “And what exactly do you think I’m trying to be?”
He shrugs, inadvertently bouncing you up and down on his back.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I like this sassy side of you. Especially since I know you’re still the same naïve little baby on the inside.” He looks back at you, and you catch a glimpse of his glittering eyes, framed by those impossibly long eyelashes.
“I am not!”
Ari chuckles, “You can act as tough as you want, it amuses me how cute you look when you do it.”
You scowl, despite the fact that his constant flirting was starting to thaw you from the inside out, making your cheeks burn and your mind feel more muddled than ever. What was the truth and what was a manipulation? This was him just trying to win you over so he could fuck you, right?? Or maybe, maybe he genuinely liked you… Maybe–
You forcibly make yourself scowl again, “Fuck you.”
“Say that again and I’ll drop you,” He threatens.
“Don’t you dare!” You squeal, winding your arms tighter around his neck, almost choking him.
He snickers as if he’s cracked the funniest joke in the world, before continuing to walk. The two of you settle into another spell of comfortable silence. You take in all the bushes full of wild berries, the pretty flowers that are luckily in full bloom, scenting the air with a sweet fragrance that tickles your nostrils pleasantly. Another gentle breeze has you relaxing more against Ari, and you’re almost about to nuzzle your face against his strong shoulder before you catch yourself and freeze.
“I discovered this place last year,” Ari announces five minutes later, gently setting you down on a patch of vibrant grass. To your delight, only a few feet away from you is a stream! The water flows and sparkles in the afternoon sunlight, rushing over rocks and plants and making a pleasant trickling sound that has an oddly calming effect on you. And the grass feels nice against your toes, so much so that you don’t even mind your bare feet on the ground.
You don’t say anything, just watching as Ari settles down beside you with the picnic basket. You stretch your limbs out, secretly happy that he brought you out here, that you didn’t spend another day rotting in bed.
“I found this place last year,” Ari repeats, “A few of us were camping nearby and I hiked out further away to see if I could get cell reception. That’s when I found this place.” He leans back, lying down completely with his arms crossed behind his head, “It’s nice and private here, huh?”
A thought enters your head, jolting you down to the core, “Private? So, this where you brought Sharon? Or your other hookups?”
“No. You’re the first person I’ve ever brought here.”
The straightforwardness of his answer jars you, and you find you have no quip or jab to respond with. Instead, hesitantly, you lie down too. A few inches away from him, but he makes no move to grab you or pull you closer. A large part of you is relieved, but you want to strangle the tiny part of you that’s disappointed that he’s not touched you.
“It’s nice.” You say finally.
“Yeah, I come here sometimes. To admire the nature or whatever.”
That makes you pause, and you look at him incredulously. He’s lying there with his eyes closed, yet he’s got a completely straight face.
“You? Admiring nature?”
Ari scoffs, “Is that so hard to believe?”
“Yes, actually.” You can’t imagine Ari of all people, who only cared about basketball, partying and sex, to be one with nature. Unless it was weed. “What aspect fascinated you the most?”
There’s a long beat of silence.
“I don’t know, the plants and shit?”
You can’t help but burst out laughing. And it feels good, to just let go and laugh for a bit. To just forget about how shitty you feel and just laugh. Even if it’s just for a moment, to just forget about how awful Ari’s been to you in the past, how awful Steve turned out to be too, just forget it all and allow yourself to laugh. And you can’t even remember the last time you laughed.
“Haha, very funny,” Ari rolls his eyes, but you can see the slight smile playing on his lips before he clears his throat. “Alright fine, I couldn’t give a fuck about nature. But I do like this place, it’s good for when I need to think.” He hesitates, “When I was dating Sharon, I felt like I never had the space to really think, and so I’d come here.”
You cease your laughter immediately at the mention of her name. Now that you were friends with Sharon, it made it a lot harder to talk about her with Ari. Because now, she was actually a person to you rather than some distant illusion that you tried not to think about. And it wasn’t her fault that Ari felt he couldn’t think with her around. She wasn’t the villain here, Ari was.
You clear your throat, heart suddenly beating very fast. “C-Could I ask you a question? And please don’t lie, okay? Just be honest with me, Ari. For once.”
He nods, not saying anything else.
“Were there others?” You ask hushedly, your tone wavering slightly as you voice the thought you’ve never wanted to speak into existence, never even dared to wonder about. “Was I just one of many girls that you were cheating on her with?”
Ari sits up, rubbing his temple. You watch him carefully, watch how his eyes scrunch shut before opening. He blinks several times, his lips pressed into a thin line before they part and he exhales slowly. Then, he turns your way, looking you dead in the eye.
“No. There were other girls before you, but once I slept with you, it was only you from then on out.”
“Yeah, me and Sharon.” You say bitterly, although the guilt is eating you up inside. You feel guilty for even feeling hurt or bitter, because he was never yours to begin with. Sharon was the girlfriend – she had every right to feel hurt and bitter. You? You were just the other woman. All you should be feeling was guilt and shame. Especially since here you were, out alone with him again when you’d vowed yourself you wouldn’t do this.
You sit back up too, and he makes a move to grab your hand but you shuffle away quickly. You hug your knees, resting your chin against them as you huddle into yourself. You can feel his gaze penetrating holes into you, but you only focus on the steady flow of water in the stream.
“Even with Sharon, it didn’t feel right sleeping with her. Not after I’d been with you.”
 “Then why didn’t you break up with her?” Your voice breaks at the last second, and you turn away from him so he can’t see the lone tear that trails down one side of your face. Just a second ago you’d been laughing and now here you were, crying over the same question that had plagued your mind for months. The question that had been beaten to death, and yet you knew you’d never get a straight up, honest response.
Ari sighs, and you hear him moving closer to you. A second later, he takes hold of your chin, gently turning your face back to him.
“Hey, listen to me. I was an asshole, okay?” He sucks in a breath, closing his eye again for a handful of seconds. You want to look away but you can’t help but watch him, watch as he breathes, watch as he finally opens his mouth again. “Before you came along, I was this guy… This hotshot guy who could do whatever and everyone would just worship the ground I walked on. And, well, I guess I thrived on that. I liked how easily I could use women. I knew I had a girlfriend but I liked how I could get any girl to sleep with me–”
“I don’t want to hear this,” you mumble, pushing away from him.
“No, wait, I’m just trying to explain myself.” He runs a hand through his mane impatiently, “Look, I’ll admit it. All those times I strung you along, it was to feed my own ego. For a while, it felt like I was on top of the world, like I had two girls and neither of them knew any better, and–”
“Stop telling me this,” your voice hitches, more tears rolling down your cheeks.
“I was being a fucking asshole, that’s what I’m trying to say!” Ari grabs your hand as if to stop you from running away, a note of frustration in his tone. Or was it desperation? “I’ve never been good with voicing my feelings and all of that shit, but that’s what I’m trying to do right now. When I saw you with Steve, it’s like he was taking my girl, taking away everything I’ve always wanted. The night of the party, and then again at the game, when I saw you with him… It got me so fucking heated, and I’d never felt like that before. It felt like I was wasting my time in a relationship I clearly didn’t want to be in, and he was moving in on the girl I did want to be with.”
You look up at him, breathing heavily yet not daring to say a word.
“I’m sorry for lying to you, I’m sorry for using you. I’m sorry that it took you being with someone else for me to finally wake up and realise you’re the only one I’ve wanted this whole time.” His hand slips up to cup your cheek, and it’s like you’re frozen. You don’t know if you want to stop him or if you want to lean into his touch. You don’t know if this moment is even real. If this stream is real or if the woods are real or if Ari is real or if he really is saying everything you’ve ever wanted him to say.
“Why couldn’t you have said all this before?” You say shakily, afraid to look him in the eyes in case you see anything other than sincerity, in case you see even an inkling, even the tiniest spark of a hint that he was manipulating you.
“I was immature.” He continues to wipe your tears, before making you look up at him. “I was just so wrapped up in being the guy who could have any girl I wanted, but I promise you I’ve grown out of that now.”
“Really?” Your voice comes out so small, filled with hope mixed with a bit of hesitance.
Ari nods, “You said before that people don’t change overnight. But if you let me show you, I’ll prove to you that I have. And that I’m serious about us.”
Ice queen persona be damned. You feel more tears well up in your eyes. “Y-You are?”
“Yes. I wasn’t going to mention this but…” He runs a hand through his hair, brushing back a wayward lock that flops over his forehead, before taking hold of your hand, “There was an NBA scout at the last game. He said they want to sign me, that a lot of teams are eyeing me as a draft pick.”
Oh. The NBA. That put everything into perspective for you. He wasn’t like you, with three and a half years of college ahead of you. No, he was almost done… And then he’d be gone. You’re happy for him – the NBA was a huge deal after all. But you also feel a little sick, like time’s going by too quickly, like maybe you’re not ready to let go yet after all.
Your mind also briefly flits to Steve. Had he been approached by an NBA scout too? You think back to when you’d last seen him, outside your dorm room with the dark circles under his eyes, the withdrawn look on his face. He didn’t look like someone who’d just been scouted by the NBA. Oh God, were you feeling bad for him now?!
“Congratulations.” You say slowly, not really knowing how to feel. Suddenly, you’re hyper aware of Ari holding your hand, and now it’s like you don’t want him to let go.
“The reason I’m telling you this is because I have it all planned out. Our future.” Ari continues, looking more serious than you’ve ever seen him look. “I know you’ll still be in school, but I really think we could make it work. And by the time you graduate, I’ll have made it. We could settle down together, and I’d make it all up to you. That’s how serious I am about us.”
You simply just stare at him in complete awe. Who was this man? It was like an alien from outer space had taken over Ari’s body. Because the Ari Levinson you knew was a manipulator and a cheater. A man who stayed away from commitment with a ten-foot pole, a man who had just now professed to you that he enjoyed two-timing his girlfriend because it made him feel like he was on top of the world.
And yet… And yet you’re only just a girl, and you can’t help but picture the story his words are painting for you. Just indulge yourself a little bit, just a tiny little bit… You know you’re teetering on thin ice, and you know how dangerous it is to allow yourself hope when it comes to Ari. Hadn’t he squandered your hope time and time again for all those months he never made you his girlfriend?
But you can’t help but imagine, can’t help but think maybe this time he means what he says…
“We could buy a house in the countryside?” You whisper.
Ari cracks a smile, “Sure. And you could pop out a few Levinson babies too, make cheese sandwiches for all of them.”
“I’d have to establish myself as a model or a fashion designer before that.” You say, feeling the corners of your lips twitch upwards as you dare yourself to dream.
He looks amused, “Fashion designer, yes. Model, no. Too many pervy photographers.”
“I’ll be a model if I want to be one!”
“No.”
“Yes!”
“No way.”
“Yes way!”
“Fine. I’ll be in the NBA and you can be a model. Maybe. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” He chucks you under the chin playfully, like how he used to do all the time. And you giggle, feeling like you’re floating. Like the two of you are encased in a bubble and you’re floating and time’s standing still and just for this one moment you could pretend everything was alright and your future with him was as secure as he was making it out to be.
“And you’d never lie to me again?”
He nods, “I wouldn’t. Never again.” And then he takes a deep breath, “There’s this fundraising gala thing coming up, and I’m supposed to win an award. I’d love it if you could come with me as my date.” He says with a note of seriousness in his tone, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear.
But rather than let you answer, he instead cups your face with both hands, pressing his forehead against yours. Immediately, the smile on your face freezes, and now you can feel every pore, every muscle, every cell in your body screaming. Screaming for what? For him to kiss you? Oh God…
“Let me kiss you,” he breathes out of nowhere, sounding like he’s parched. “Please, baby. I know I’ve fucked up but I want to kiss you so bad right now.”
“Oh, Ari…”
“Please.”
You never thought you’d live to see the day where Ari Levinson was begging you for anything. It was such a stark contrast from how your relationship had begun, almost as if the tables had turned now. Were tables capable of turning that quickly? Or was this all part of an act? Oh, you’re sick of asking yourself that question! What’s real and true is that earnesty in his eyes, and you want to kiss him so bad too. So fucking bad.
He moves closer, and so do you. Inch by inch, almost like first-time lovers. His lips purse slightly, looking so warm and soft and inviting. Closer, so close that they brush against yours for a second, and you can hear him breathing and you know he can hear you too. You wonder if he can hear your heart too, hear how it beats louder for him than it does for anyone else.
“We shouldn’t…” you murmur, but your words are laced with doubt. Just one kiss, your mind cajoles you, just one kiss won’t hurt.
There’s a gentle breeze around the two of you, swirling softly. Rustling through his hair, feeling cool against your face. Encasing the two of you in a private whirlpool where it’s just you two, and the sound of the stream, and the beat of your hearts.
“I know, but I want to so bad,” Ari’s hands are cupping your face so tenderly, his thumbs stroking your cheekbones as he slowly angles your face upwards. “Please, let me kiss you. Just once.”
It’s like the breeze jostles you forward, as if the universe wants you to kiss him. Your willpower’s hanging on by just a thread, your mind swarming with memories of every time you and him had kissed in the past. How magical it had felt for you, how it felt like you could never find someone who’d kiss you like that again. Oh, fuck your willpower!
He surges forward one last time, but his lips have barely touched yours before you pull away, turning your head to the side. Breathing hard, the anticipation still burning through your body in waves. Heart beating like crazy, and yet you swallow and shake your head.
“Ari, we can’t,” you force yourself to say firmly.
Ari sits back, looking slightly dazed and yet running a hand through his hair in frustration. For a second, you wonder if he’ll be mad, call you a tease for leading him on. Call you a slut, tell you how the least you could do was kiss him in return for all he’d done for you today. But he just sighs thoughtfully.
“Not until I come clean to Sharon about everything,” You explain, “And I know about the gala, Sharon told me. I-I’m actually going with her and Wanda, like a girls’ night.”
He raises an eyebrow before nodding slowly, “Well, as long as I get to see you there when I go up on stage to accept the award.”
“Yeah, but we can’t talk or interact or anything. Sharon’s my friend now, and I owe her the truth before anything more can happen between us.”
Ari gazes at you carefully, but there’s a hopeful glint in his eye. “So, it’s just the Sharon issue then. You forgive me for everything else?”
You hesitate. Well, did you? Did you forgive him for leading you on? Lying to you multiple times? Manipulating you? Leaving you drunk and high and alone in a party bathroom? God, why did he have to remind you of the asshole he’d been all this time, up until very recently? It pops the bubble your mind has created right now, the one that you and him were encased in, in this little clearing in the woods.
“I don’t know if I forgive you.” You say honestly, hoping he doesn’t question you further.
To your surprise, he doesn’t. Instead, he lies back down on the grass, stretching his long limbs out to make himself comfortable. You watch him as he lazily grabs another cheese sandwich from the picnic basket, wolfing it down before offering you one. Stifling a smile, you shake your head.
Ari shrugs, “Well fine, more for me.”
And it’s later, after the two of you sit there by the stream in comfortable silence for a little while longer. After he’s piggy-backed you back to his car, and after he’s driven you back home. It’s when he’s pulling up to your building, that he puts his hand on your knee to make you look at him.
“I know you said before that nobody changes overnight, but that doesn’t mean I won’t stop trying until you see that I have.” He says firmly, his hand feeling so warm on your leg, causing heatwaves to radiate up and down your whole being. “And I know you, baby. I know you like me too. I know you want this to work out between us too. And it will. Once you tell Sharon, and we’re free to be together, everything’s gonna work out. You’ll see.”
Oh, he was so cocky! And yet, it’s a different type of cockiness than what you’ve usually come to associate with him. It’s more of an honest sincerity, this confidence that one day you’ll be his. And oh, you want to believe him! You really do! You want to believe in a perfect world where Ari proves himself to be more than just a manipulative fuckboy, a world where Sharon understands and forgives you for everything.
A world where you forget all about Steve Rogers, and never find yourself thinking about him… Thinking about what could have been.
You say nothing, not until he’s carried you back into your dorm room. Not until he’s about to leave. That’s when you speak.
“Ari?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
He looks surprised, as if he hadn’t really been expecting you to say anything at all after his whole speech. The truth was, you’d been silent for a while now, ever since the two of you had almost kissed in the woods. But there’s a newfound serenity inside you, a feeling that wasn’t there before.
“For what?” He asks, a shy little smile on his face. One you’ve never seen on him before.
For bringing me outside. For taking me to your special place. For not making a big deal out of it when I didn’t want to kiss you. For carrying me. For not losing your patience with me. For making me laugh. For making me smile again.
“For the cheese sandwiches.”
***
The night of the gala is cold for springtime, the blustering winds revving up and roaring to life. Looking outside your window, you can see the smaller trees swaying roughly against the unforgiving nature of what looks to be the beginnings of a windstorm. It gives you a peculiar foreboding feeling, listening to the ominous whistling of the winds, so loud as if they’re warning you. You back away from your window, and yet something inside you doesn’t close it and lock it as you know you should.
You float back over to your vanity table, feeling pretty in your new dress that you and Sharon had gone shopping for, just how she’d promised. You haven’t felt this pretty in a long time, and as you gaze at your reflection, you feel another pang of foreboding. Quickly, you busy yourself with powdering your nose and fixing your hair, wondering if maybe you should have agreed to get ready with Wanda and Sharon after all. You’d told them you wanted some alone time before the busyness of the gala. Some time to yourself where you could draw a bubble bath, and then shave and pluck and preen and pamper yourself till you felt somewhat ready for the big night out.
And it had made you feel better, your solo pamper session. Sure, your thoughts had spun into overdrive as they always did. Replaying all your recent interactions with Ari, with Steve, even with Sharon. The reflection made you chuckle at one point, because when had your life become so like a tumultuous soap opera? With secrets and lies and betrayal and deceit coming from all corners?
A loud gust of wind knocks you out of your reverie, and again you feel it. The feeling that something big is swirling up in the atmosphere, like the howling wind itself is trying to warn you that soon, it would all come to head.
“Fuck you! Try an’ scratch me again and see what happens!”
Your head snaps up at the sound of the familiar male voice. And it’s the proximity that makes your heart skip a beat. The voice sounded close, like it was coming from mere feet away from you. Fearfully, you look back at your window, only to see that same angelic face you know so well seemingly levitating outside.
“Steve?” You whisper, blinking several times. He doesn’t seem to hear you, and you wonder whether you’re imagining things. Slowly, you venture forward, back to your window which lies open. And that’s where you find him, standing on the ledge outside of your bedroom window which was two storeys high.
Steve whacks a wayward branch that looks to be tangled in his jacket. And his movements are oddly sluggish as he flips the bird at the tree adjacent to your building which the brand is attached to. “Damn stupid fuckin’ tree, tryna pick a fight with me,” he mutters before his eyes fall on you, and they brighten up instantly, “Hey, baby girl, fancy seeing you here!”
And then he bursts into a fit of giggles, while you just stare at him in awe, your mind still not having come to terms with the fact that Steve had somehow climbed all the way up to your window. In the dark. With the wind blustering insanely around him. Warily, you peek downwards, heart jumping all the way up to your throat when you see how he’s just casually balancing on the extremely thin ledge, the street below looking very minuscule with how high up your floor was.
“How did you get up here?” You breathe, still half in shock that he’s here that you forget how explosively your last encounter with him had gone down.
“Who, me?”
“Yes, of course you. Who else!?”
He shrugs, “Scaled that tree over there, then it decided to scratch me so I fought it off an’ jumped onto the ledge. Now here I am!” He ends his explanation with a flourish that causes him to stumble backwards. It almost happens in slow motion; you don’t even have a chance to react to what you’re seeing. But he catches his balance again just in time, grinning up at you mischievously.
“Whoops!” He laughs heartily, a type of laugh you’ve never really heard from him before. He shuffles along the ledge till he finds a spot he’s more comfortable with, leaning in through your window and shooting you a smile, “almost fell to my death there, didn’t I?”
“Steve, you need to get back down. You’ll hurt yourself.” You bite your lip, wondering whether you should let him in through your window just so he’d be safe. But the thought of being alone with him within the four walls of a bedroom again gives you the creeps, and so you refrain.
“Maybe I want to hurt myself,” he answers, staring at you almost quizzically. His lips are full, his cheeks flushed. His hair looks longer and even more unkempt than last time, that stubble still on his face, his eyes dark and unfocused. It was weird, because you’d always known Steve to be meticulously well-groomed and almost preppy with his clean-cut good looks. He was still handsome as ever now, but he looks darker, almost tortured, with dark bags under his eyes and even his cheeks looked kind of hollow.
“I’m serious, climb back down.”
“I just wanted to see you again,” he breathes softly, and his entire expression morphs to tender as he reaches out to touch your face. “And I knew you wouldn’t let me in the normal way.”
You can’t help but flinch away, and he sighs, bringing his hand back down to grip at your windowsill, “You’re so pretty.”
That’s when you smell it. Vodka. Suddenly, his erratic behaviour makes a lot more sense. His pupils are dark and blown out, and he’s swaying dangerously on the spot.
“You’re drunk, Steve.”
“Nah,” he bats his hand dismissively, but with such force that he stumbles forward. And again, your heart lurches in your throat, thinking he’s going to fall. But lithely, he grabs on to something or the other, regains his balance, and flashes you another smile, “okay, maybe a little bit. But being drunk helps.”
You frown, not knowing whether to feel scared or concerned, “What do you mean?”
He shrugs, “Helps to forget all the shitty stuff.”
A wave of anger passes through you, “Shitty stuff? You mean like all the awful things you said to me when you tried to force yourself on me?” Hell, maybe you should be the one drinking if it meant you could forget how he’d called you an easy slut.
Steve bows his head, still swaying slightly, “I’m so sorry, baby.”
“Don’t call me baby.”
“Okay. I’m sorry, sweetie.”
“Stop it, Steve. I’m serious.”
He sighs again, “So am I. I hate how I lose control like that. It’s like I zone out, and something takes over me and I’m there on fucking standby. Watching this one version of myself lash out and say all these shitty things an’ I can’t do anything to stop it.  And when I zone back in, it’s too late an’ I can’t take anything back.”
He explains with surprising eloquence, despite being so drunk.  And God, why did he have to look all rugged and heartbroken right now? Dismissing him would be so much easier if he was ugly.
There’s an emotion swelling up inside you as you look at him now, but you try to suppress it. Instead, remembering your ice queen persona, you cross your arms over your chest and force yourself to narrow your eyes. “Is that your explanation? That you zoned out? Because honestly, the lack of accountability–”
“I don’t think you’re a slut,” Steve interrupts you, “you’re sweet, and beautiful, and innocent. That’s what I thought the night I first saw you. And sure, I guess I used you because I was trying to get back at him–”
You flinch. There it was again. The reminder that Steve had indeed used you. And you’d fallen for it… Hook, line and sinker.
“–but at least I’m honest enough to admit it. Doesn’t that count for something?”
He finishes, blinking up at you with large eyes framed with those impossibly thick lashes, as if waiting for you to respond. When you don’t, he sighs, swaying again as another strong gust of wind attacks from the outside.
“I like you a lot, okay? I know I haven’t known you as long as he has, but it doesn’t matter. I think what we have is special.”  He swallows, his eyes squinting as he searches across the plains of your face, either trying to gauge your thoughts or trying to come up with the right words to say next. “And I know I fucked it up because that’s what I always do. So fuck it, I don’t care anymore.”
He shoves his hand inside his jacket, conjuring up a glass bottle of Gray Goose vodka out of what seems to be thin air. Your jaw drops open as you watch him take a hearty swig from it – and it was already half empty!
“Okay, that was a lie. I do still care.” He wipes his mouth roughly, stumbling about and still very much on the window ledge. “There’s just so much going on inside my head,” he says, and he demonstrates by smacking the side of his head with his open palm, “School, basketball, taking care of Kira – all of it just keeps building up. And I try my best, okay?” He loses his footing and sways some more, “but it’s never enough, and all my thoughts get louder and louder, like voices fucking screaming inside my head, and then I just explode. And I get so fucking angry, and it’s always directed towards the wrong people – whoops!”
He slips. You cry out in terror and impulsively grab hold of his arm. But he regains his balance and barks out a laugh, as if he’s tripped whilst taking a simple stroll in the park and not currently balancing on top of a very high and very dangerous ledge.
“It wouldn’t matter if I fell, you know?” He muses, taking another long swig of the vodka. And he doesn’t even flinch as the bitter liquid goes down his throat, as if the taste no longer has any effect on him. “I mean, my life’s a fucking mess already. Basketball’s completely fucked, anyways…”
“What do you mean?” You ask, your heart pitter-pattering in fear. His overtly reckless behaviour is scaring you, and you realise you’re holding your breath as you watch him callously standing there.
Steve shrugs, “Got kicked off the team today.”
Oh. You feel a surge of pity. And you know you shouldn’t. Not after how he treated you. And yet you can’t help it. Tonight, Ari was going to win an award for being the best basketball player of the season, and in the summer, he was going to the NBA. You can’t help but feel for Steve’s starkly different fortune.
He takes another gulp of vodka, “Coach said I couldn’t control my emotions and I’d keep costing the team if I continued playing.” He gazes off into the distance, and you try to gauge his expression but it’s quite unreadable. He laughs bitterly and smiles again, but it looks more like a grimace, “Fuck him. He’s right, but fuck him anyways.”
“Steve, this is dangerous. You could fall–”
“Fuck basketball,” he continues swaying around like he hasn’t even heard you, “it’s not like I was ever gonna make it to the NBA, anger issues or not. No, I have to become a surgeon. Like my parents.” His words slur and ring with sarcasm, and he barks out another laugh, “If I don’t fuck that up too…”
“I’m sorry that happened, but–”
He scoffs, “Can’t even fucking imagine being a doctor. My patients would probably be scared of me, just like how you are.”
“Please, just get down–”
“And Kira…” His expression morphs from bitter to sad in less than a second, and he clutches your hand suddenly. The one that you hadn’t realised was still holding on to his arm. And you don’t pull away, almost like you don’t want to. Either that, or you want to keep hold of him so he doesn’t fall.
Steve coughs, “God, I wish I took care of her better. I feel so fucking guilty, living on campus while she lives by herself in our house. Our parents are never home, they don’t even know what she went through… How she doesn’t even speak to anyone but me, how she doesn’t go out anymore...”
Another long swig. It’s a wonder the bottle isn’t empty yet. You want to interject, beg him once more to climb back down to safety, or at least hand you the vodka so he doesn’t drink anymore. But he’s not done speaking, and cuts you off when you try to get a word in edgewise.
“My parents, the award-winning heart surgeons!” He raises the vodka bottle up in the air in a mock toast, “They’re here, there, everywhere around the fucking world!” Another swig, more swaying. “Everywhere except for at fucking home. So then I have to handle everything, don’t I?”
“Steve–”
“They don’t even know how bad she’s gotten, how their own daughter’s shut herself off from everyone.” Steve shakes his head in both resignation and frustration, “and I try so fucking hard, okay? Try to help her with her anxiety, help her make new friends. God, all I do is worry about her. And school. And basketball. While they jet across the world doing their fancy surgeries and not giving a damn about her or me. Fuck them!”
Whoa. Wow. Okay. Now, you look at Steve with new eyes – you had no idea there was so much going on in his life, in his head. It still didn’t excuse the way he’d spoken to you, the way he’d forced himself on you – and yet… Yet you can’t help but feel another pang of sorrow and pity for him.
His eyes are dark and stormy as he looks out into the early evening sky, before looking back to you. His gaze falls down to your hand holding on to his arm, and he smiles softly.
“You were the only thing in my life that was good.”
You shake your head, your barriers going back up, and you try to pull your hand away, “No. Stop lying, Steve, just don’t even try it, don’t even–”
“No, it’s true!” He insists, holding on tightly to your hand as if he’s on a sinking ship and you’re his only lifeline. “That one week before I fucked it all up, that one week when we were just texting. I’d be on my phone, smiling like a fucking fool. You can ask Kira! She knew about you because I couldn’t stop talking to her about you.”
You bite your lip, and despite everything, you find yourself wanting to believe him so bad. Suddenly, a strong gust of wind has Steve clutching your hand even harder as he teeters on the ledge, bringing his face closer to yours, his eyes hooded and lashes fanning over those impossibly sharp cheekbones.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says.
“Don’t, Steve…”
He sighs, breaking eye contact as he plays with the glass bottle in his hand. But his other hand seems to move off its own accord, his pointer finger trailing up your bare arm. And it’s so intimate, that simple touch, leaving a trail of fire and goosebumps in its wake. Your skin feels like it’s buzzing, burning almost, as he traces his finger up your shoulder blade, as if he’s testing to see how much you’d let him touch you.
“I miss you.”
You feel your resolve crumbling…
“No, you don’t. All we did was text for one week. We never even went on a date, so you can’t possibly miss what you never had.”
“And yet I still miss you.”
He leans in, his eyes fluttering shut. His lips look so pink, so warm, so hesitantly inviting. Slightly pursed, as if he doesn’t know if it’s going to happen but he’s going to try anyways. Another sharp gust of wind blows past, almost pushing him into you as if even the universe itself is cajoling you to just give in to him. You can smell the alcohol on his pores, and yet you can also feel his warmth, his musky cologne, the way his breath hitches as if he can’t believe this kiss is actually happening…
Except you turn your head at the last second, and he sighs.
“Should’ve seen that coming,” he says to the evening sky, “lost my place on the team, lost my girl, I wonder what I’ll lose next? You wanna take any guesses? Hey, maybe I’ll lose my balance! That would be funny, wouldn’t it?”
You watch as he looks down, all the way down to the ground with a peculiar gleam in his eye. The type of gleam that reflects that he’s a man with nothing to lose. And it’s a long way down. What the hell was he thinking?!
“He really fucked her up,” Steve murmurs softly to himself, a whisper that almost gets lost in the great gusts of wind that swirl around the two of you. “And I tried to do something about it, tried to get back at him, but I fucked it up. I always fuck up. Maybe it’s best if I just–”
“Steve, stop it! Stop being so reckless!”
You tug hard at his arm, and at the same time a heavy wind blows. Steve stumbles again, but mercifully, he falls forward instead of back. Through your window and right on top of you. You both land on the floor with a thud, and despite how drunk he is, he manages to bring his hands out in front of him, preventing you from getting crushed by his huge frame.
“Whoops. Sorry, baby.”
He flashes you a cocky smile, as if he hadn’t just been teetering on your window ledge in the middle of a sad, drunken rant. The bottle of vodka is still snugly clutched between his fingers, somehow having also survived the fall onto your hard bedroom floor.
You open your mouth to tell him to get off of you, but the words die inside your throat. Instead, you look up at him, at his face so close to yours. So close that his nose is an inch away from brushing against your own. And his eyes, navy and blown out and yet still so pretty, blink down at you imploringly. The last time, when you’d been in his bedroom, they’d looked so stormy and far away. And here, now, he was drunk and yet he looked present. And you realise that you don’t feel unsafe at all.
“I really, really want to kiss you right now,” Steve says, slurring and stumbling over his words.
“Don’t.” You warn him, although you notice your own lack of conviction. In that moment, had he actually done it you don’t think you’d have objected too much. But you don’t want to give in to him, not after how scary he’d been last time. Despite everything, you still haven’t forgotten.
He nods slowly, “I know, fuck, I know…”
Shakily, he gets off of you, swaying slightly as he gets on his feet, and then he yanks you up too. Before you can stop him, he takes another swig of vodka before his eyes once again settle on you.
You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows hard, biting his lip as his dark eyes drink you in. In your form-fitting emerald dress that wraps around your body like a second skin of smooth satin. The ruching which accentuates your curves even more, the delicate lace detailing, the smooth dip of your cleavage. The gleam of your bare legs that peak through the slit of the dress. The demure heels that makes them look longer than ever. And yet you can’t help but shift shyly under his intense gaze.
“You’re all dressed up,” Steve says softly, reaching out to touch you before thinking better of it, curling his outstretched hand into a fist and pushing it down to his side, “You look… incredible.”
“Th-Thank you.”
“You going somewhere?”
“Uh… yes.”
He nods before his brow furrows, “Is he taking you out?”
“What–?”
“Levinson. Is he taking you out? Are you two together now?” His tone hardens, and you feel your heart jump up to your throat. Oh, please let him not get all angry again like how he did last time!
“No.” You say firmly, “There’s this gala, this fundraiser thing at the Hilton Hotel. That’s where I’m going. Me and Sharon and Wanda.”
“No Levinson?”
You shake your head, “N-No, Steve.” It was only white lie, because you weren’t going with Ari and you probably wouldn’t speak to him tonight. It was a girl’s night out, if anything. Plus, you’re scared that Steve might flip out if he knew that Ari would be there too.
“You promise?” He looks at you meaningfully, and he’s got that same intense look again. The look you’ve grown to associate with him, that eery, almost glassy stare. “Promise me, Y/N. Promise me that you aren’t going out with Ari.”
You don’t owe him anything, certainly not any promises. And yet, yet you can’t help but nod, “I promise, Steve. In fact, Sharon and Wanda are on their way to pick me up.”
Steve nods approvingly, looking somewhere beyond you. His eyes look sad once again, and he takes another long, lingering sip of vodka. “Good girl. You stay away from him, okay? All he does is hurt people.” He shakes his head, his mouth pulling downwards in a grimace, “He hurt her so bad.”
You frown, “Hurt who? Sharon?”
The blond doesn’t answer, but he continues talking to himself. “What did she ever do to him? He didn’t give a damn about her, and now look at her…”
You feel an uneasy wave of guilt, “You mean Sharon, don’t you? I know…”
Steve frowns, opening his mouth to answer you before he grows distracted by something beyond your shoulder. A slow smile spreads across his face, and he stumbles over to your desk in the corner of the room.
“My jacket!” He grabs the blue and white varsity jacket he’d given you the night of the party, “You still have it. You kept it.”
“You can take it back!” You say quickly, a bit too quickly judging by how his face falls. Quickly, he drops the jacket as if it’s made of hot coals, a bitter look enveloping his features.
“You should throw it away. Or burn it.” He says simply, throwing his head back and taking a hearty sip of his vodka, “thought you would’ve looked cute wearing it to one of my games but I since I won’t be playing anymore, there’s no point anymore, is there?”
What follows is an uncomfortable silence. And oh, why was he making you feel bad for him now?! After everything he’d said and done? But then he’d apologised too… Were you being too hard on him? Now you feel more confused than ever!
You sigh, “Steve… Look, I just don’t know how to act around you. One second, you’re so intense, and you’re calling me a slut, and you’re being all scary. And then the next it’s like your entire personality changes. And I just… I don’t know what to believe, okay?”
“Why can’t you just believe that I’m sorry for what happened? I’m sorry for all of it.”
You shift uncomfortably, looking down at your heel-clad feet. You wrack your brain, trying to choose your next words carefully, “I… do believe that you’re sorry.”
He stands there expectantly, as if waiting for you to say something more, to say that you forgive him, perhaps? But you don’t think you do. Do you? A few more empty seconds pass before he clears his throat.
“They put me on some kind of medication. Added it to the ones I already take.” He volunteers, breaking the silence. He avoids your gaze now, instead focusing on his bottle of vodka, tossing it from one hand to the other and tapping at the glass. “For my anger and mood swings, or whatever.”
You nod, “That’s good, right? You saw a doctor?”
He snorts, “No. My parents just heard about me flipping out and contacted the family physician Got him to prescribe me all these different pills. But this,” he raises the vodka up in the air and waves it around, “This helps more than any medication ever could. It stops all the screaming in my head. And luckily, Mom and Dad left the house full of booze, so I’m all good to go.”
You nod slowly, furrowing your brow, “Steve, maybe you shouldn’t be drinking while you’re on medication–”
Your phone vibrates loudly from its place on your bed, the sound shaking you from the inside out. Even Steve blinks several times, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding as you make your way over to your phone. It’s like the bubble of intensity the two of you have been encased in has popped, and now you’re back in the real world. It was crazy, because being inside the bubble felt intoxicating, like everything was moving in slow motion, like you were in some sort of fairytale and the troubled prince had just climbed in through your window.
Your screen glows with a new text.
Sharon: We’re on our way! Wanda’s already so drunk lol we’ll be there in ten minutes!
Oh no. You’d rather your friends didn’t run into a drunken Steve Rogers when they came to pick you up. Especially not when you were supposed to have sworn off men anyways.
“Steve, you–”
“–I need to go,” he completes sombrely, picking at a piece of loose thread on the sleeve of his expensive-looking sweater, “I know, I know.” His eyes narrow, “That wasn’t Ari, was it? Who texted you just now?”
“No.” 
He relaxes, “Good. Okay, I guess I’ll leave then.”
You chew your bottom lip anxiously, “H-How will you get back? You didn’t drive here yourself, did you?”
He waves your question off as if it isn’t important, backing away towards your door, “You don’t worry about me, sweetheart.”
“Steve Rogers, don’t you dare drive back home in the state you’re in!”
He just stares at you, that same bittersweet look on his face. Finally, he nods, “I’ll be fine. I came here with Bucky.”
You nod, “Okay, then. As long as you don’t drive…”
Steve shoots you a sad smile, one that doesn’t really reach his eyes. His eyes that are still glued on just you, only you. He crosses his hand over his chest, “I promise I won’t. Scout’s honour… Although I was never a scout, so who knows if you can take my word. Ha ha.”
He finally makes it to your door, almost as if he’d been walking in slow motion, wading through quicksand. Why? Because he didn’t want to leave? And you feel a lump in your throat, one that won’t go no matter how many times you swallow. There’s an odd yearning inside you, like an itch on your hand. No, an itch in your heart. Your fingers twitch as if wanting to reach out to touch him. Did you not want him to leave, either?
You press your lips together, rooting yourself in place as you watch him go. At the last second, he turns back around again.
“I am sorry, okay? Sorry about everything.”
Once more, all you do is nod. The expectancy in his eyes fades away and he sighs, his hand resting on the doorknob as he goes to shut the door. 
A second passes. But it feels like the longest second you’ve ever lived. Like your heart seems to beat about a thousand times in that one second, like a drum reaching crescendo. Feeling like you’ve reached that part in the movie, that page in the book where the climax happens and then everyone can breathe again. Outside, the winds seem to be charging up again, readying themselves for an almighty, blustering blow. And you can feel the booming whistle of the winds ringing all around you, when you suddenly drop your phone on your bed and rush over to the door before you can think better of it.
“Steve, wait!”
You press your lips to his in a searing kiss, catching him completely off-guard. He stumbles back slightly, either by how strongly you’ve jumped on him or because of his own inebriation. Either way, he recovers quickly, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you against him as he reciprocates your kiss.
And you don’t know why you’re kissing him, but it’s like your body’s gone past the point of rationale. Like your lips and your limbs have a mind of their own and your brain is no longer part of the conversation. And Steve’s lips feel so soft, and this time you feel like it’s you in control. He’s too drunk to take charge, you suspect, as his lips move languidly against yours.
Your hands cup his face, his bristly skin pricking the pads of your fingers, and yet it doesn’t bother you. Not when he’s kissing so softly, so cautiously like he’s afraid he could hurt you again. It’s you who presses your tongue against his, stroking it, biting and nipping at his lips. He smirks at your overexcitement, finally injecting more passion into the kiss by tipping your head back slightly and pressing his lips harder against yours.
He tastes like vodka, but you don’t mind. He also tastes kind of sweet, kind of irresistible. And oh, you know this makes no sense! And you know you shouldn’t be kissing him! What about Ari? What about your own dignity? What about swearing off all men? What about–?
You pull away as abruptly as you’d kissed him, and both of you stand there breathless for a handful of seconds. Your lips still tingle pleasantly, and before he can say anything, you gently pry the bottle of vodka from his hand.
“I’ll keep this, okay?” You say softly, holding it behind your back. There’s still quite a bit left in it, and Steve looks like he’s one sip away from disaster. Or at least a very bad headache tomorrow morning. You pray it’s only the latter.
But he’s got a sparkle in his eye now, and he doesn’t spare the vodka a second glance, “It all went away for a second.”
“What went away?”
“All the fucking screaming in my head. All that pressure I was telling you about. Kissing you made it all go away. Your lips are magic, baby girl. Better than the vodka.”
“Oh.” You don’t know what else to say, but you feel a lurching pull in your heart nonetheless.
“Yeah, like I’m numb to it all now. Comfortably numb. And it’s such a fucking relief.” He closes his eyes for a second, as if he’s savouring the feeling. You’re so intently looking at him that you don’t even notice when he grabs your hand, and his eyes flutter open, “So you forgive me?”
You hesitate, “Steve, I…I don’t know.”
His serene smile freezes on his face, and he drops your hand like it’s a hot poker. You feel it again in your heart, that lurching fee ling that you can’t place. You watch as his face falls, almost in slow motion. And it feels like you’re sitting front row in the cinema, watching his expression turn sad, his eyes clouding over once more like he was depending everything on your forgiveness.
“Okay. Goodbye.”
He stumbles out of your room, out into the stairwell where he trips before grabbing on to the banister.
“Steve, please be careful,” you say again, your tone laced with worry.
He glances back at you, that ever-charming smile back on his face. Back from when you’d seen it that first night when you’d met him. Almost like he’s put on a mask. He gives you a sluggish thumbs-up, “I’ll be fine. I’m comfortably numb, remember? I just hope it lasts…”
What the hell did that mean? Should you go after him? You hear your phone vibrate loudly, and you glance back at your bed to see it glowing with several new texts. But then you look back at the stairwell to find it empty. He was gone. Gone like a gust of wind. Gone like he was never there.
But he was. You can still feel him on your lips.
As if in a dream, you float back into your room and pick up your phone. Two new texts.
Sharon: We’re five minutes away! Traffic’s crazy lol.
Ari: Hey. I just want to say that I’m happy you’re coming tonight. Even if we don’t get to speak, just know you’ll be on my mind all night. Fuck. That was cheesy. Anyways. See you there :).
You sink down on your bed, already feeling exhausted and mentally drained. Despite the fact that the night was nowhere near over yet. In fact, it hadn’t even begun.
***
“Where’s Curtis?” Wanda wonders aloud, scanning the sprawling banquet hall and immediately grabbing a flute of champagne from an elegantly dressed waiter holding a tray full of them.
The banquet hall where the gala is being held at the Hilton is reasonably full, and you recognise a bunch of familiar faces from campus – both students and professors. Everyone’s dressed smartly – the men in tuxedos and the women in evening gowns and dresses. Sharon and the decorating committee have done a great job; each table swathed in ivory cloth, with red rose centrepieces and golden gilded chairs. Matching golden lights against an otherwise dark room gives an almost ethereal ambiance.
“He’s probably over on table 2 with the rest of the basketball team,” Sharon nods to a table at the front of the room near the stage. “I did the seating arrangements and the place-cards.”
Predictably, table 2 is the rowdiest table in the entire banquet hall. Clearly, the basketball team didn’t give two fucks about what was considered proper black-tie etiquette. You can see Ransom Drysdale and Andy Barber having some kind of a drinking competition, chugging down wine glass after wine glass as if they were cans of beer. Lloyd is acting like their referee, half on top of the table as he tries eggs them on. Colin is laughing his head off as he looks to be live-streaming this whole performance on his phone. And then there’s Ari.
And oh, he looks so breathtaking! Your heart physically skips a beat when you see him. His brown hair slicked back sexily, but the ends curling around his stiff white collar. His tuxedo looks well-tailored and expensive – Armani probably – and a white bow tie that makes him look more handsome than ever. He’s sat in the middle of his table, looking very much like the leader of his group. A smirk on his face as he watches his teammates horse around, but then his eyes meet yours, and the cocky smirk turns into the most adorably lovesick smile that does not look like it belongs on his face – only because you’ve never really seen him smile like that ever before.
“Oh gosh, there’s Ari,” Sharon says, coming up closer to your side and making you snap your eyes away from her ex-boyfriend immediately. The blonde takes a few deeps breaths to calm herself, “And he’s looking straight at me! Well, who cares? I’m not gonna let him affect my night. In fact, I’m gonna go over to him to prove how unbothered I am–”
Before you know what’s happening, she starts making a beeline straight over to table 2 – with you in tow! Wanda follows, her eyes still searching the room for Curtis as she downs her champagne quickly.
“Hello, Ari,” Sharon says stiffly, hanging on to your arm for dear life. You hope you don’t look as mortified as you feel, watching as Ari looks up at the two of you, his charming little smile still on his face.
“Hi.” He answers her, giving her a quick nod before his eyes shift to you, and you see them sparkle as he looks you up and down, taking in your emerald dress, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards again in another sweet little smile. Oh God, damn him for being so obvious!
“Well, I just came here to congratulate you on your award,” Sharon says, a determinedly happy-yet-nonchalant look plastered on her face. “So, well, congratulations.”
Ari nods again, physically tearing his eyes away from you, “Thanks.”
“Where’s Curtis, you guys?” Wanda interrupts the awkward exchange, looking expectantly at the basketball team. You watch as she grabs another champagne from another cocktail waiter who happens to pass by, downing it as quickly as she had the first.
Ransom snickers, “He’s somewhere around here, sweetheart. But I wouldn’t bother him if I was you, he’s kinda busy.”
Wanda doesn’t even wait for him to finish his sentence before she’s off, weaving across the banquet hall at lightning speed. You watch her, mildly concerned as she grabs yet another glass of champagne, her previous one still in her other hand. She’d been antsy the whole ride over, because apparently Curtis wasn’t texting her back, and hadn’t since last night.
“She’s already a mess,” Sharon murmurs to you under her breath before smiling brightly at Ari, “Well, see you around, Ari.”
He nods at her for the third time, before his eyes rest on you once more. There’s a hint of yearning within them, and his lips twitch as if he wants to say something. Oh, when did it get so easy to read his expressions? Did you know him that well now? He gives you a soft, private smile – one you know is meant just for you. One that seems to convey a thousand words in just a single twitch of a muscle. You almost return it, before remembering who you’re with.
“Thank God, he didn’t bring her,” Sharon mutters to you as the two of you walk away from jock table.
“Huh?”
“The little skank he cheated on me with. I would’ve died if he brought her along as his date.”
You gulp, eyeing one of the champagne flutes yourself. After tonight, you absolutely had to come clean to Sharon. There was no other choice, you’d kept this secret long enough. And if it meant she’d no longer be your friend, then so be it. You deserved that. But no more excuses, you had to tell her tonight after this event was over.
And the event itself is fine. You hang out with Sharon while she makes small talk with a bunch of different people. You don’t talk much, simply staying quiet and observing. People’s outfits, their makeup, their shoes, everything. It’s nice to be out and about again, after spending what felt like an eternity rotting in your dorm room and feeling sorry for yourself. You even find yourself catching Ari’s eye every now and again, and each and every time he’d give you his sweet little private smile that made you want to die. You’d look away, of course, or busy yourself with talking to Sharon or someone else, just so you wouldn’t smile back. Even though you wanted to. You really, really wanted to.
You do get a handful of texts from him though.
Ari: You look beautiful.
Ari: I can’t take my eyes off you.
Ari: Seriously, I don’t think you realise how beautiful you look right now.
You don’t reply, but you know he can see you looking down at your phone and smiling like crazy.
About a half hour into the gala, the hosts beckon everyone to sit at their assigned tables because the award ceremony is about to begin. That’s when you notice that Wanda’s been missing for a while now. You scan the room while a retired basketball coach hobbles his way onto the stage, beginning a very long-winded speech on how he’d single-handedly led the St. Andrews’ team to victory back in 1993. Where the hell was Wanda? You realise you’ve been so wrapped up in the event and playing secret smiling games with Ari from across the room to notice that you hadn’t seen her since the three of you had arrived here.
Luckily, you spot her stumbling towards the bathrooms that are in a corridor off the main banquet hall. Stumbling being the key word, and you quietly curse yourself for allowing her to drink so much. God, Ari was just so distracting! Even when you weren’t even speaking to him, just his presence alone was making you forget about everyone else!
You tell Sharon you’re going to get Wanda before quietly sneaking away, hoping to discreetly bring her back before she wanders off somewhere else. You just hope
“Wanda, hey! Wait up!” You catch up to her, “Let’s go back to the banquet hall.”
Wanda rolls her eyes, “Leave me alone, Y/N. I’m looking for my boyfriend.”
Oh. She still hadn’t found him yet?
“C’mon, our table’s this way,” you try again, grabbing her hand, about to lead her away. Then you notice her eyes light up as she looks beyond your shoulder.
“Baby, there you are!” Wanda slurs brightly, snatching her hand out of your grip and making a beeline down the hall. You whip around to see Curtis closing the bathroom door behind him, his other hand wiping his mouth. His tie loose around his neck and top collar button undone. And you also see a tiny brunette in a silver dress slip out of the bathroom behind him, the dim lights of the hallway swallowing her up as she slinks away into the darkness, Wanda not even noticing her.
“Wanda.” Curtis blinks, looking entirely unperturbed. “You’re here.”
She hits him playfully on the shoulder, “Of course, I’m here. I came with the girls, remember? And I wanted to support you!”
He scratches the back of his head, “Yeah. Cool. Look, I’m gonna go back to the boys–”
“Great, let’s go!” Wanda links her arm with his, making his jaw tense and eyebrow raise. And you watch this whole ordeal with a sinking feeling in your stomach.
“Babe, remember how I told you this event was a no date kind of thing?” Curtis carefully peels himself away from her, making her pout. You cringe when she doesn’t get the message, grabbing his bicep again, her manicured nails like talons holding on with all her might.
“But I missed you, baby,” Wanda smiles up at him drunkenly. “I’ve been looking for you all night!”
Curtis visibly cringes, “Come on, babe, don’t be like this.” Again, he dislodges his arm from her grip, pushing her off of him not-so-gently. “I’m here with the team tonight, but I promise I’ll come by your room later. Maybe. Like way after midnight probably.”
You can’t hide your disgust, openly frowning and shaking your head at him. God, why did all men suck so much?
“Come on, Wanda,” You grab her hand once more, “You don’t need him to enjoy your night. Let’s go.”
“Um, fuck off, Y/N, I’m talking to my boyfriend right now.” Wanda pushes you off her before sidling up to Curtis again.
You gape at her, feeling a pang of hurt. She’s just drunk, she didn’t mean to say that…
Curtis sighs, rolling his eyes, “Listen to your friend, Wanda. I gotta go.”
“I’ll come with you!”
For a third time, she grabs on to his arm tightly. That’s when Curtis huffs, clearly annoyed.
“Look, I don’t know what you think is going on between us, but stop acting like we’re in some serious relationship or whatever.” He says, a frown bordering on disgust on his face as he shakes her hand off of him.
Wanda gapes, and even your mouth drops open. How dare he? How fucking rude!
“Baby, you don’t mean that–”
“I mean sure, we have fun together but please don’t get the wrong idea, Wanda. You can’t just chase me down at these public events like you own me or something. That’s not how this works. In fact, all it does is make you look kind of desperate.” He continues, getting his phone out and nonchalantly scrolling through it as if this whole painful conversation isn’t even worth his time.
How the hell was he speaking to his own girlfriend like that?
“I-I’m sorry for being desperate, Curtis,” Wanda says earnestly, her eyes wild and pupils dilated, “Please, don’t do this! Don’t break up with me like this!”
He rolls his eyes, “Do what? I’m not doing anything! I can’t break up with someone who was never my girlfriend to begin with. Sure, we had fun for a few weeks but it’s not like we were ever exclusive, let alone dating. You were too clingy for my liking anyways.”
“Curtis, that’s enough!” You admonish, your heart breaking for poor Wanda. Curtis was a joke.  You can’t believe he’s standing here denying he was ever in a relationship with her. Hell, you’d been a third wheel to them enough times in the past month to know the two of them had definitely been a thing. How the hell was he just so casually gaslighting her now, as if none of that ever happened? God, you would never understand men!
Curtis glances at you, a devilish twinkle in his eye before he turns to Wanda again, “Hell, I’m pretty sure I tried to sleep with your friend Y/N before I settled for you that night at the party.”
“Oh, you’re such an asshole!” You explode, pulling Wanda away, “Stay away from her, you piece of shit! C’mon, Wanda.”
What you haven’t noticed is Wanda standing deathly still. She snatches her hand away from you, a look of absolute loathing, shock and betrayal on her face. And a part of you wants to see her give an asshole like Curtis a piece of her mind. But then she turns to face you, her eyes drunk and accusatory.
“Y-You…” she points at you, swaying in her heels from all the alcohol in her system, “You slept with my boyfriend?”
“What? No, he tried to sleep with me, but I wasn’t interested. It really wasn’t a big deal–” You try to hold her hand to calm her down, hoping she doesn’t make a big scene.
“Later, ladies.” Curtis grins, squeezing past the two of you and strutting over to table 2 with the rest of his team. You watch him for a moment, slack-jawed at his nonchalance and how badly he’d just hurt your friend.
“I can’t believe you!” Wanda hisses, pulling away from you yet again. “I can’t believe you slept with him!”
You shake your head desperately, “No, no, no! I didn’t sleep with him! That’s not what he said!” You take a deep breath, stopping yourself from raising your own voice out of desperation to get her to understand. Instead, you speak slowly: “Wanda, I did not sleep with Curtis. Yes, he did try it on with me ages ago but nothing happened.”
“You’re the biggest bitch in the world, Y/N! I can’t believe you slept with him!” Wanda sputters, tears welling in her drunken eyes. It’s like her brain has only selectively heard what he’d said and is running with it, and she’s unable to compute what you’re saying to her now. “I knew you weren’t above sleeping with other people’s boyfriends but I never thought you’d do it to me!”
“No, please, just listen! You’re not understanding–”
“Let go of me!” She bats your hands off her when you try to grab her again, backing away and stumbling out into the main banquet hall. “Don’t even speak to me again, Y/N! How dare you sleep with Curtis?! When you knew how much me and him meant to each other!”
Helplessly, you watch her as she marches across the banquet hall, and you trail behind her with a lump in your throat. You’d have to wait until she was sober to explain things to her properly, which was another conversation you weren’t looking forward to. But for now, you just watch her, hoping she doesn’t injure herself with how determinedly she’s walking. You expect her to head towards Curtis’ table, which is why you freeze when she walks straight past him and up towards the stage.
The retired basketball coach is just about done with his speech, and you nervously rejoin Sharon who is also looking at Wanda climbing up the stairs of the stage with a confused look on her face.
“We need to go get her,” you murmur.
“Why, hello young lady,” the retired basketball coach greets Wanda warmly, “Are you here to present the first award?”
Both you and Sharon spot Wanda eyeing the microphone with a gleam in her eye, and the two of you stand up in unison, exchanging alarmed looks.
But Wanda is quick, bumping the retired coach out of the way with her hip. She grabs the mic, tapping it quickly many times in succession. A high-pitched feedback echoes across the room, and more eyes turn towards her from all the other tables in the hall. The retired coach gives her a confused smile before shrugging and slowly hobbling away. A number of stagehands look on in confusion, checking their clipboards to see if this was part of the show.
And that’s when Wanda starts talking.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I have an award of my own!” She grips on to the mic like a vice, teetering on the middle of the stage. Her hair’s messy, her face stained with dried up tears. The straps of her dress slipping down her shoulders, and the half empty wine glass still in her hand, the remaining contents of it sloshing out onto the polished wooden floor.
“What the hell is she doing?” Sharon whispers from beside you. All around you, everyone in the banquet hall is whispering amongst themselves, and now all eyes are glued to your drunken best friend on stage. The tables full of professors, coaches and alumni all look around in bewilderment, frowning as if Wanda being on stage is all part of some kind of skit before the award ceremony.
You glance over at the jocks on table 2. Ari shoots you a perplexed look, Ransom’s got his phone camera out, Andy’s grinning from ear to ear. Colin has the decency to look away, an embarrassed look on his face. And Curtis? Curtis leans back on his chair, an amused look on his face as if he’s ready to kick back and enjoy the show.
That means it’s all up to you.
“Wanda!” You hiss, glad that your table is close enough to the stage that she can hear you, “Wanda, you’re drunk. C’mon, let’s go to the bathroom so I can fix you up.”
She looks down at you and smirks evilly, before looking away as if she hasn’t even heard you. Instead, she once more taps the mic once, twice, three times. She giggles drunkenly, “Testing, testing, is this thing on?”
“Wanda, babe, come down please!” Sharon joins in, but she also gets promptly ignored. She bites her lip before turning to you, “God, how did we not realise how drunk she’d gotten? She’s gonna make a fool of herself.”
“Wanda!” You try again, raising your voice slightly, “Come down, Wanda, please! The awards ceremony is about to begin!”
“It’s already begun! And like I said, I have an award of my own,” Wanda says, looking beyond you but never fully at you. You can see her lip curled slightly, and either it’s a smile or a sneer – you can’t really tell. But it makes your blood run cold, and a strong sense of foreboding washes over you again, like how it had earlier in your bedroom.
Quickly, you make your way over to the stage, hoping to pull her off before she said anything to embarrass herself too much. And it’s when you’re climbing up the stairs at the side of the stage that she resumes speaking:
“I know you’re all here for some… some random basketball award,” Wanda slurs, “But I wanna get my award out of the way first. And it’s the award for St. Andrews’ college’s biggest fucking slut.”
You’re halfway up the stage by now, and it’s when you step up on to the polished wooden floor that you pause, her words sinking in and a horrific feeling dawning on you. Oh no…
“And look! Here she is, the slut herself!” Wanda cheers, pointing straight at you with an unsteady hand. She throws her head back and laughs, her other hand gripping on to the mic for dear life. “Everybody, please give it up for Y/N! She already knows she’s the winner, nobody else could ever compare! Y/N is undoubtedly the biggest fucking slut on campus, and she wholeheartedly deserves this fucking award!”
Pin drop silence. For the first second, that’s all you hear. Silence that’s so loud, it’s almost deafening. Ringing in your ears, closing in on you like a siren. Then, you feel the waves of heat. Red hot fire radiating all over your body. Your face, your arms, your neck. Everywhere. You can’t quite believe what’s happening, but you know there’s a banquet hall filled with strangers staring straight at you as if you’re swathed in a spotlight.
“Curtis, get your girl the fuck off the stage!” You hear Ari say somewhere in the distance, and you can see him getting to his feet.
“No fucking way, that bitch isn’t my problem anymore.” Curtis whispers back, a note of glee in his tone.
You remain frozen on stage, your heart thrumming up to your throat. Wanda cackles, drunkenly beckoning you closer. Someone – either a professor or a coach – tries to coax her off the stage but she bats him away as if he’s an insignificant fly.
“C’mon, Y/N! Don’t be shy, come accept your award!” Wanda holds up her now empty wine glass as if it’s a trophy, “Ladies and gentlemen, don’t be mistaken! Y/N isn’t normally this shy! I mean, she certainly wasn’t when she fucked my boyfriend!”
A hushed gasp fills the hall, followed by a host of whispers. There’s a tiny voice inside you, telling you to run. Just run, run, run away from it all. But your feet don’t move, firmly planted in place as your whole body buzzes with heat and the lump in your throat gets bigger and bigger. Why was Wanda doing this? Oh God, what was happening!?
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Ari scrape his chair back and stride over to the stage, a venomous look on his face. At the same time, you feel a warm hand on your shoulder as Sharon comes up the steps to stand beside you.
“Wanda, honey, that’s enough.” Sharon says softly, holding her other hand out to your drunken friend. “Come on. Let’s go home.”
“Don’t you honey me,” Wanda spits out, “And don’t look at me as if I’m some sort of fool. If anyone’s a fool, it’s you, Sharon!”
Oh no. You feel yourself going light-headed.
That’s when Ari jumps up on stage, looking huge and menacing as he strides over to Wanda. He grabs her by the upper arm roughly, “Carla, shut the fuck up right now if you know what’s good for you,” He hisses.
“Well look who it is! Mister Knight in Shining Armour, here to save the fucking day!” Wanda laughs, and at least she’s not speaking into the mic anymore, but did it even matter? “Y/N doesn’t need your help, Ari! She’s a fucking slut who enjoys sleeping with other people’s boyfriends, and she’s proud of it! You’re proud of it, aren’t you, Y/N!?”
You’re in no condition to answer her question. Now, your body seems to be experiencing rapid hot and cold flushes. Icicles, then fire, then icicles, then fire again. And your face feels like it’s been stabbed by a thousand pins and needles. It’s a sensation you’ve never felt before, almost like an out of body experience. Like you’re floating except it feels terrible instead of liberating, and there’s absolutely no way for you to escape the impending doom.
Someone’s directed the live band to start playing again, and the room fills with music to combat the earth-shattering silence. But you know everyone’s eyes are still on the spectacle that’s taking place on stage. Everyone’s looking at you. And it’s like all your insecurities from the past month had come back in full force. Except so much worse, because now everyone thinks you’re a slut.
To your horror, Wanda goes to speak into the mic again. But Ari quickly snatches it out of her hands, throwing it aside and shooting her a glare, “Don’t even fucking think about it.”
“Okay, Wanda, you’ve made your point,” Sharon interjects gently. “I don’t know why you’d spread all these lies about your own best friend who’s been nothing but good to you, but it’s done now. Let’s just go.” Again, she reaches for Wanda’s hand, only for the latter to shoot her a sneer.
“Stop acting so holier-than-thou, Sharon. You’re not worth shit anymore, not since you got dumped,” Wanda laughs, suddenly aware of who exactly is on stage with her. She glances from you to Ari to Sharon, a look of evil glee spreading across her drunken features. “Why don’t you ask Ari again why he dumped you? Or better yet, why don’t you ask your new best friend Y/N?”
The band’s now playing an upbeat song, the lead singer urging everyone to get up on the dance floor in a bid to distract them. A few people do, but most stay planted in their seats, their focus still on the stage. Not that any of that even matters, not when Wanda’s words hit you like a ton of bricks. Out of your peripheral, you sense Sharon inhale sharply from next to you, and a deep feeling of dread starts spreading across your chest.
“Curtis, get the fuck up here and deal with her,” Ari seethes through gritted teeth. Curtis rolls his eyes, slowly making his way up to the stage like a panther going on a leisurely stroll.
“She sleeps with everyone’s boyfriend!” Wanda explodes, pointing another accusatory finger at you. “She doesn’t care about ruining relationships, all Y/N cares about is herself, Sharon! That’s why she’s been sleeping with Ari for months behind your back! And I kept her secret because I was being a good friend to her! Little did I know she fucked my boyfriend too!”
“That’s it, you’re fucking done,” Ari yanks Wanda off the stage, roughly pushing her down the steps all while keeping an iron grip on her forearm.
Thankfully, and yet a little too late, a stage hand drops the curtains. Dramatically, they fall down, shielding you from the stare and gossip of the audience. But you don’t feel any better. No, all you feel is pure, frozen shock. And the chaotic pantomime continues, even with the stage curtains now drawn.
“She’s been fucking Ari this whole time! She even fucked him out in the open at that frat party. In front of everyone, because that’s the type of slut she is!” Wanda cries out, stumbling over her words that act like bullets directed straight for Sharon. And, of course, you. “And she fucked Curtis too that night! Like the biggest fucking whore in the whole world! It’s true ‘cause he just told me! And God knows what she did with Steve, she probably let him smash too! As if slutting around on one campus wasn’t enough, she had to target a guy from a different college, and–”
She’s cut off by Ari plastering his huge hand over her mouth, all while she struggles and fights against him. He continues dragging her down the steps before throwing her into Curtis’ arms. Immediately, Wanda pacifies, grabbing on to Curtis for dear life while the buzzcut-haired man holds her gingerly.
“Get her out of here. I don’t care where the fuck you take her, I just want her gone.” Ari orders, narrowing his eyes when Curtis opens his mouth, “Don’t fucking argue with me, Everett. Go.”
Curtis rolls his eyes again, cautiously taking hold of Wanda who shuts up momentarily when she notices who’s holding her. She looks up at him with shining drunken eyes. “Curtis! You came back for me! Oh, I forgive you for fucking Y/N! I know she’s a huge slut and she probably seduced you! It wasn’t your fault at all, baby, I know that! Please let me be your girlfriend again, Curtis, please, I’ll do anything–”
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Curtis grunts as he drags Wanda towards the exit. Thankfully, she’s docile enough in his arms, and easily goes with him.
Leaving carnage in her wake.
They all think I’m a slut, you think it again, still frozen in place. And I am! I am, I am, I am! I’m a backstabbing slut and this is what I deserve. Total public humiliation.
You pull yourself out of whatever catatonic state your body wants to shut you down into. The stage curtains are drawn and you’re protected from all the stares of the guests, and yet you feel like you can still hear the buzz of their whispers. The gossip formulating, your name on the tips of all their tongues. Spoken with disdain and disgust. Oh, you want nothing more than to just shut down and disappear. But you can’t. You can’t shut down yet, not yet. Instead, you force yourself to face Sharon head on, and come clean about what you should’ve come clean about ages ago.
“Sharon, please, just let me expl–”
“It’s not true, is it?” Sharon says slowly. Her cheeks look red, her eyes stricken, as if Wanda’s drunken bombshell has reached out and slapped her across the face. Her mouth downturned as if she’s about to cry, and yet she’s using every fibre of her being to hold herself together.
Ari chooses that moment to come up next to you, instinctively putting his hand on your shoulder. And Sharon looks from him to you back to him again. And then her face falls, and it’s like it’s all happening in slow motion and you’ve got a front row seat to someone’s heart being broken in real-time. Her face crumples as realisation dawns on her, and a whimpering sound leaves her mouth.
“It is true…” She breathes.
“I am so, so sorry,” You begin, not even knowing how to start. You feel numb and disorientated, like Wanda’s screaming expose has hit you like a freight train you may never recover from. And yet you know not to be selfish enough to make it all about you in this moment, not when Sharon looks so betrayed right in front of you. And yet a tear rolls down your cheek as you look at her, “Sharon, please understand how sorry I am. I know I should’ve told you before, there’s literally no excuse–”
“You’re right, there isn’t.” She cuts you off coldly, but the iciness doesn’t reach her eyes which shine with a mix of tears and betrayal. “How could you? You were supposed to be my friend. Th-This whole time I thought you were my friend…”
“Hey, leave her alone,” Ari interjects, positioning himself in front of you protectively. “If you want to be angry at someone, be angry at me. She’s already been through enough tonight.”
“DON’T YOU DARE DEFEND HER, YOU LYING PIECE OF SHIT!” Sharon bursts out in a blaze of fury, “For once in your life, show me a little bit of respect and don’t fucking defend the girl you cheated on me with right to my face! I was your girlfriend once upon a time, Ari. And you act like it meant nothing.”
Her voice breaks at the end, and she fiercely wipes away her tears. It smears up her makeup too, but she looks like she’s past the point of caring.
“All I’m saying is to leave Y/N out of this, Sharon. Whatever happened between me and her wasn’t her fault at all. You and I can discuss this privately.” Ari says, his tone hard and serious. He’s standing tall, as if being exposed for your joint betrayal has him completely unfazed. You, on the other hand, feel like you’re about two feet tall.
Sharon looks at Ari incredulously, before her eyes shift back to you as if she can’t help it. “I trusted you, Y/N.” She says brokenly, “I..I liked you. I liked you so much. You have no idea how much I…” Her voice trails off for a second before it hardens: “…and this whole time you were going behind my back.”
You swallow harshly, “I’m so sorry. Please, I know what I’ve done is unforgivable. But just believe me when I tell you that I’m so, so genuinely sorry. Wh-When me and Ari started… I didn’t even know you back then and I know that doesn’t excuse it–”
“IT DOESN’T EXCUSE IT!” Sharon screams, and beyond her shoulder you can see a few people peeping through the curtains as if to continue watching the show. “It doesn’t excuse it at all, Y/N! You had so many chances where you could’ve come clean to me, but you chose to lie to my fucking face.” She laughs bitterly, as if she can’t believe all this is actually happening. “Oh God, how stupid could I have been? All those times when I was crying to you about my breakup, or when I was trying to help you get through your boy troubles… All that time you were sleeping with Ari and I never suspected a damn thing?! Oh, you must’ve been laughing your ass off behind my back!”
You scramble to explain yourself, you want to say more, but it’s like your throat’s closing up now. Like you’re experiencing some type of allergic reaction. Your skin feels like it’s crawling, like your self-disgust has just boiled over the edge and you’re covered in the shame and guilt that’s been festering inside you. Except it’s now also mixed with the sheer humiliation from everything you’ve just experienced. What could you possibly say to explain yourself? She was right. She was one thousand percent right.
They were all right about you, the voice in your head cackles. Steve and Wanda and probably everyone else who’s thinking it right now. You’re a slut.
“Leave her the fuck alone, Sharon.” Ari threatens lowly, dropping his hand from your shoulder and taking a menacing step towards the blonde. “I mean it. Not another word.”
Sharon tilts her head, and you find her looking at you. Really looking at you. As if she’s searching the plains of your face to detect the level of your honesty. And you want to look away, want to look down because of how humiliated you are. But you look back at her meekly, feeling like a fucking backstabbing rat. Oh God, why had you not just come clean to her weeks ago when the two of you had first started becoming friends? Were you truly that spineless? Were you really that much of a coward?
“Get out.” Sharon says coldly, the hurt on her face now replaced with an impenetrable mask of stone-cold indifference. “Get out of here, Y/N. I don’t want to look at you. I thought we were friends but it’s like I don’t even know you. And I never knew you. So just get out of here. GET OUT!”
Her venomous words make you jump. Your lower lip quivers, and you feel like the dirt at the bottom of everyone’s shoe. Ari turns around, tries to grab your hand but you back away quickly. Your heel catches on something and you stumble. Regaining your balance, you see Ari coming towards you, and Sharon staring you down from behind him. The pity and concern in his eyes, the pure betrayal in hers. Oh, you don’t want any of it! You just wish you’d disappear!
You take off into a run, your heels clacking on the wooden floor noisily but you don’t care. You do exactly what Sharon’s told you to do – you run. Gathering up your dress so it doesn’t get caught in your shoes. Oh, and who cares if it did? Who cares at all? Certainly not you.
You run out into the full banquet hall, trying not to meet anyone’s gaze. Trying to block out what they’re whispering. You know they’re talking about you; you know they’re looking at you as if you’re the biggest backstabbing whore in the whole world. Which you are. Oh, how spectacularly everything had fallen apart!
Somewhere behind you, you can hear Ari calling out your name. But you don’t stop, don’t look back. Not this time. You weave through the crowd, your tears blurring your vision but you don’t dare stop. Out into the hotel lobby, down the marble steps adorned in grand red carpeting with gold tassels. Feeling like a warped Cinderella who wasn’t the helpless princess after all, but instead the backstabbing villain. Out the front entrance, and the doorman stares at you but you don’t care, and the outside cold hits you like a ton of bricks.
As if on cue, the wind roars loudly, slapping you in the face with all its might and fury. And you remember earlier tonight, when you’d wondered whether the winds had been trying to warn you about something. Oh, your intuition had been right! Why hadn’t you just stayed at home?! Now, the wind swirls around you threateningly, and you just stand there in the bitter cold, as if daring it to attack you. All around you, the grass rustles, the trees cower, the very ground seems to shake as gust after gust hits at you, and your hair comes loose, and you’re about to start crying in earnest, and–
“Y/N, wait! Stop!” Ari grabs your hand, his familiar warmth shooting through your entire body. He pulls you into his arms, embracing you fiercely. Your burst into ferocious tears that you hadn’t realised you’d been holding in. Loud, wracking sobs muffled by his strong chest as he holds you close. “I’m so sorry that happened, baby. I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”
“I did!” You cry, another gust of wind hitting you like a wake-up call, and you push off of him with tears streaming down your face. “I did deserve it, Ari! I deserved all of it!”
There’s an invisible whirlpool around the two of you. Maybe you’re imagining it in your delirium, but it’s like a swirling of energy, entrapping the two of you together on this stormy night. The wind howls around you both, ringing in your ears as if to warn you again, telling you this is all wrong, wrong, wrong!
And Ari looks at you like his whole heart’s in his eyes, and they glisten with emotion that you’ve never seen in him before. And he holds you close, and cups your face. He wipes your tears as if to soothe you, but how could you soothe someone who was so beyond repair that perhaps repair wasn’t even an option anymore? How!?
“Let me take you home,” he whispers, “I don’t want you to be alone tonight. Please, let’s just go. And I swear I’ll deal with everything; I’ll deal with all of them. I’ll make them pay for hurting you. Just please, stop crying and come with me.”
“No!” You snatch your hand out of his and step back, shaking your head fiercely. “Don’t you get it, Ari? We’re not right together and we never will be!”
“That’s not true–”
“Yes, it is!” You sob freely, “How many people do we have to hurt for it to sink in that we just don’t work?” Ferociously, you wipe at your tears, not that it matters when new one’s flow down your cheeks freely, “All we ever do is fight, Ari! We just run around in circles and fight and hurt each other and hurt everyone around us! And now I know it’s ‘cause we just don’t work, and we never will!”
“No.” Ari says firmly, “I’m the one who hurt people, okay? Not us. Just me. And you got caught in the crossfire and I’m fucking sorry.”
You shake your head, “It doesn’t matter anymore. None of it matters, Ari. They all think I’m a slut and they’re all right! And I’ll never live this down and I don’t deserve to live it down! So just leave me alone, okay? JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!”
“NO!” Ari roars, louder than the wind itself, and louder than you too. “No, I’m not fucking leaving you alone! I told you that I care about you, and I’m never gonna leave you alone. So just… just come on. Let me take you home, baby. I’ll make it better, I promise.”
The blustering winds form an impenetrable current around the two of you, whistling and swirling with rogue leaves like a tornado that you seem to be trapped in with him. And in an ironic way, it perfectly encapsulates your relationship with him: a whirlwind. A tornado. A constant uphill battle filled with fights and arguments, always one step forward and then two steps back. Maybe it was time to just give up, to come to terms with how it just didn’t work between you and him.
You sniffle weakly, “Nothing can make this better. Whatever there was between us, it was never going to work. Not when it started out as a lie.”
Tenderly, yet charged with an electric emotion you can’t quite pinpoint, he cups your face again. Your freezing wet cheeks welcome the warmth they bring, despite everything.
“I’ll make it better,” Ari repeats, softer this time. He presses his forehead against yours. “You mean more to me than Sharon or anyone else ever did. And I know our relationship started out wrong because I lied to you. Constantly. I know that. But I promise you I’ll make it all better and you’ll never hurt again how you’re hurting now.”
You feel like you’re at a crossroads. You’ve gone through more emotional turmoil in these past few weeks than you have in any other point of your life. And each time, you’ve fallen back into Ari’s arms in a heap of tears. So, what about this time? Would you do the same thing again? Another circle? Another fight? Another heartbreak?
“I’m in love with you.” Ari breathes. And in that moment, even the winds stand still. And his eyes look like twin oceans with stars scattered inside them. And those stars in his eyes, those stars get bigger and bigger till they’re all you can see. And you can’t hear anything anymore, except for his breathing and yours. And you can feel only one thing, and that’s his hands cupping your cheeks as he gazes at you with a look of desperation mixed with something else. Something passionate. And honest. “I’m in love with you, okay? I’ve never been in love before but I’m pretty positive that I love you, and I promise I’ll protect you from ever being hurt again.”
In the distance, beyond his shoulder, a branch from a tree falls to the ground. As if unable to stand the wrath of the wind on this night. It crashes down, all the way down till it’s no longer a part of what it had once always known. You focus on it for a split second, before some kind of magnetic pull makes you look back to Ari.
“Why does it always take some sort of traumatic event for you to say these things?” You whisper, letting his words bounce off you. Not letting them permeate into your heart and set camp, not allowing them to let you hope. Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted to hear from him!?
“I’ve felt this way for a while,” he says earnestly, “I just didn’t want to admit it to myself. But I told you, I’m ready now. For everything. I love you, and I want everyone to know it.” He draws you closer, cradling your face in his warm hands. How are they so warm on such a cold night? How was he so warm when you felt so cold, cold, cold?! So freezing cold from the inside out?
I love you. I’m in love with you. I promise I’ll protect you. I love you. I love you. I love you.
Oh, his words were finding their way into your heart! You take a timid step closer, allow yourself to look into his eyes. Everything was crashing and burning around you. Your life was ruined, and so was your reputation. Everyone thought you were a slut and you had no friends left at all. But Ari was here. Solid. Real. Right in front of you. Saying all the right things on a night that had gone so horrifically wrong. Should you allow yourself this? Did you deserve it? Did he?
His lips have barely brushed against yours when you hear a loud shatter right next to you.
“You told me you weren’t going to be with him tonight.”
Steve. Standing less than a foot away from you. A glass bottle lying broken by his feet, the smell of vodka strongly emanating from him. His hair falls over his forehead, swaying gently in the roaring wind. His eyes black, blown out, barely there. Hooded, like he’s sad. Betrayed. Oh, how did he even get here!?
Your jaw drops open, “Steve, I–”
“How fucking dare you show your face in front of her after everything you put her through?” Ari growls, pushing you behind him before squaring up to Steve. “Get the fuck out of here, Rogers. Before I break your neck.”
You swallow harshly, “Ari, don’t…”
Steve sidesteps Ari, and those sad eyes look straight at you. Penetrating down straight to your soul.
“You kissed me earlier tonight, but now you’re choosing him.”
He says it matter-of-factly, his words slurring slightly but still clear as day. You feel a pang in your heart. From your peripheral, you see Ari bristle at Steve’s words, clearly taken aback by what he’s just revealed.
You open your mouth, but it feels all dried up. Like you’re back in the middle of the stage with an audience of people watching you get exposed for your betrayal.
“You don’t have to answer him.” Ari says to you, quickly recovering and grabbing your hand protectively before turning back to sneer at Steve. “Get the hell out of here. Tonight isn’t the night for your bullshit.”
“He’ll only hurt you,” Steve says, ignoring Ari and looking directly at you. “I told you; all Ari ever does is hurt people.”
“Shut your fucking mouth, Steve, or else I’ll–”
“Or else you’ll what, Ari? I don’t give a fuck what you do.” Steve finally looks at the brunet, squaring up to him till they’re both face to face. Each as big as the other, each as menacing as the other. But that’s where the similarities end. Ari looks wary, on edge. And Steve? Steve looks like he has nothing left to lose.
“Oh yeah? Is that why you’ve been dodging me all these weeks?” Ari barks out a laugh, but it sounds hollow, almost forced. And his eyes keep darting between Steve and back to you. “I’m telling you for the last time, Rogers. Walk away so she doesn’t have to see me kill you.”
“Stop acting like some kind of fucking hero, Ari. You of all people should know that’s not what you are.” Steve fires back, “You’ll hurt her, just like you hurt–”
“My car’s parked around the corner. You know what it looks like. Go, I don’t want you to see this.” Ari says to you, his hand dropping yours as he keeps his eyes on the blonde in front of him. You watch as his fists clench by his sides.
There’s a pause before Steve laughs. And just like Ari’s from earlier, Steve’s laugh sounds hollow too. Like neither of them are enjoying this confrontation. And neither are you, and yet your feet remain planted to the ground. The winds are still howling around you, encasing the three of you in a whirlpool. And within it, you sense the strongest feeling of foreboding you’ve felt yet.
“You still haven’t told her, have you?” Steve accuses.
A dark, anxious feeling pools inside your chest, twisting your veins, reaching straight for your heart. More secrets? “Tell me what, Ari?”
“Go to my car, I’m serious.”
“I heard your little speech from just now. I heard all your promises. How you’ll never hurt her again,” Steve shoves Ari. And it’s a drunken shove, but a hard one. “How you’ll protect her,” another shove, “How you’re in love with her.”
“Shut the fuck up, Steve. You have no idea what you’re–”
“Tell me, is that what you told my sister too?”
Everything stops. Even the wind, with how fierce and mighty it had been all night, comes to a screeching halt. It’s like the grass stops rustling, the trees stop swaying. You think your heart has stopped too. Steve’s sister? Kira? Ari knew her? The dark, anxious feeling doubles up, multiplies in a millisecond. You feel like your insides have turned to tar, and your blood freezes in the worst way possible.
“Wh-What’s he talking about, Ari?” Your question comes out soft, timid. As if you’re afraid of the answer.
Ari’s head whips around, and his cheeks are flushed. His jaw tensed, his eyes wild. Quickly, he shakes his head, “He doesn’t know what he’s saying, okay? Clearly, he’s drunk, and high off of something, and he doesn’t know what he’s saying–”
“WHAT THE FUCK DID KIRA EVER DO TO YOU, ARI?!” Steve erupts, making you jump. Ari flinches too, but Steve closes in on him, his dark eyes blazing. “What did she ever do to you? Except trust you?” He laughs bitterly, “Maybe that was her mistake. Trusting someone like you.” And then he looks straight at you, “Don’t make the same mistake, Y/N. He’ll run you out of this place just like he did my sister.”
Your lower lip quivers, “What do you mean?”
Ari grabs your hand and pulls you back, “Let’s just go. He doesn’t know what he means. He has no fucking clue what he’s talking about.”
Like it’s a hot poker, you pull your hand out of his grip, staring up at him incredulously.
“I have no fucking clue, huh? As if I haven’t been in the same house as her, watching her lock herself up in her room and cry for the past fucking year!” Steve says, and this time he squares up to Ari again, grabbing the brunet’s collar to make him look at him. “As if I haven’t watched her become a fucking shell of her former self, as if I haven’t watched her lose her smile, lose her personality, lose her fucking will to interact with anyone. All because of you!”
Now it’s Ari’s turn to shove Steve, and he does it with full force. Steve stumbles backwards, and Ari looks at him in fury. And yet he doesn’t say anything, nothing at all. And the sticky black tar coats your heart and starts seeping into your lungs, making it hard for you to breathe. Making it hard for you to make sense of what’s going on. Oh god, what exactly was Steve saying?! And why wasn’t Ari denying anything?!
“You can’t even deny it anymore, can you?” Steve spits out, “And now you’re out here actin’ like a fuckin’ superhero, promising Y/N the entire world. Well, why don’t you answer my question, Levinson? Is that what you promised Kira too? Is that what you fucking promised her before you spread those pictures of her to every fucking person you know?”
That’s when you feel like the wind’s been knocked out of you. You feel faint, dizzy. Like you’re no longer real. Ari turns to look at you, and you can’t even begin to decipher his expression but it’s like you no longer want to look at him. Pictures? Like nudes? Ari? Spreading private pictures of Kira around campus??? You shake your head, willing him to say something, to deny it all vehemently.
“She’s my sister,” Steve’s voice breaks, an outpouring of emotion that you’ve never ever seen from him. His face red, his fists clenched but not in anger, more so in desperate sadness. “She’s my sister and you were my friend and you fucking broke her, Ari. She couldn’t handle it, everyone talking about her, laughing at her. You ran her out of school, and you broke her. And now you’re gonna do the same thing to Y/N too.”
Ari swallows, looking stricken how you’ve never seen him look before. He sucks in his breath, and when he speaks, it sounds like it’s a stranger talking: “Don’t even act like you have Y/N’s best interests at heart, after what you did to her. And you have no idea what you’re sayi–”
“This is who he is!” Steve erupts again, this time looking straight at you, “My sister was so fucking trusting, she did whatever he asked her to. She sent him pictures that were supposed to be private, all ‘cause he told her to. She never should’ve trusted an asshole like him but she did, she trusted him with everything she had, and now look at her.” He shakes his head, his entire body shaking from either anger or grief or both. “And Kira, she was so broken over it, she told me never to mention it again to anyone, she made me promise not to. But you need to know who he really is. He’s a fucking asshole who’ll hurt anyone! He hurt Kira, he hurt Sharon, and he’ll hurt you too.”
“Let’s go,” Ari says to you, gathering himself and grabbing your hand, “Let’s just go and I’ll explain everything.”
For the second time, you snatch your hand away from his and shake your head, your mind racing and you think you’re going to be sick. Oh God, how many more times would Ari lie to you? “Don’t touch me.”
“Baby, I said I’d explain–”
“You knew Steve’s sister this whole time?”
“Yes, but–”
“Wh-Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you mention it even once?” Your voice sounds high, like you’re about to start crying from shock. And betrayal. You suck in your breath. He’d been hiding this from you, so what else was he hiding?
He tries to grab your hand again, but you take a step back in disbelief.
“Don’t you dare touch me. Y-You’re a liar! You lied again. You told me you wouldn’t lie to me but you lied again!” Oh, you feel like you don’t even know him anymore! Did you ever truly know him to begin with? You think back to Kira, so anxious that she couldn’t even look you in the eye. Had Ari really hurt her so badly? Spread around nude pictures of her and ruined her life and then continued on with his own as if none of it had even happened? “H-How could you do that to her? How could you–”
Ari opens his mouth to speak, but that’s when Steve tackles him. You scream, caught off-guard as the two behemoths fall to the ground. The wind resumes its wicked gusts, and this time it’s like it’s taunting you. Taunting you for forcing yourself time and time again to live in this fairytale utopia where Ari and you could ever possibly work. Each slap of cold air on your face reminding you that nothing, nothing in the whole world, could ever make the two of you work.
And maybe it was written in the stars, maybe this fight was bound to happen between the two of them. And yet you can’t make sense of it, watching with stricken horror as Steve grabs Ari’s collar again.
“You sick, twisted bastard! Fuck you for ruining my sister!” Steve punches him, but Ari quickly dodges it. And Steve’s movements are slower, sluggish. You feel sick thinking of how much he’s had to drink tonight. He was already drunk hours ago when he’d showed up at your dorm room, but now? Now he looks doubly wasted, teetering on the verge of no return and completely past the point of even caring about it.
Steve’s fuelled by alcohol and a tragic rage. No, rage was the wrong word, because the anger he was exhibiting now was nothing like when he’d punched the wall or when he’d lost his cool at basketball practice. Now, it felt different. Like he was charged by his own sadness, and an underlying sense of resignation. Like a part of him didn’t care what would happen to him by the end of tonight. Like he was getting all his punches in before he… before he…
“Stop!” You finally find your voice and yell out, but it doesn’t carry, your words getting lost in the wind. Ari shoves Steve off of him, dragging both of them to their feet. Steve throws another punch, and Ari dodges it just in time so instead of his fist connecting with his jaw, it slams painfully against his shoulder. But Ari doesn’t flinch.
“You have no fucking clue what you’re talking about!” Ari snarls, drawing his fist back to punch back. That’s when you throw all caution to the wind and run forward, coming between them.
“Don’t, Ari! He’s drunk, and he took all this medication, and…” your voice trails off, but the worry is evident in your tone as the realisation hits you. His medication for his mood swings. How much of it had he taken? Ari pauses, still glaring daggers at Steve, who looks back at him just as venomously.
“HIT ME, LEVINSON! DO IT, JUST HIT ME!” Steve shouts, louder than the wind itself. “It’s not like I’ve got shit to lose, so go right ahead! I’ve said what I had to say and now I’m fucking done.” His face twists, veins popping in his forehead, his blonde locks brushing over his wild eyes as they rest on you. His gaze softens somewhat, like a drunken, tragic hero. “I’m done, Y/N. It’s okay, I’m done. And I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for scaring you. I hope one day you’ll be able to forgive me.”
Why was he talking like that? You have no time to contemplate his words, however. Because Ari steps forward in front of you, his fist clenched to his side. And you’ve never seen him look this angry, and once more he draws his fist back, and you try to find your voice to stop him but nothing comes out. And the wind hits its crescendo, and there’s a clap of thunder serving as an exclamation point to this disastrous evening. Your entire body jerks, as if expecting something terrible to happen, and you close your eyes and you brace yourself…
A loud thud. You open your eyes, a scream getting caught in your throat when you see Steve on the ground. Motionless.
“Ari, what did you do!?” You cry.
Ari turns to you, breathing hard and yet he’s got a confused look on his face. His fist is still clenched but he shakes his head in shock.
“Nothing. I swear I didn’t do anything, he just… He just collapsed.”
You run over, crouch down next to Steve, trying to survey any damage. Sure enough, his face looks pristine, apart from a bluish-purple hue to his pale skin that you hadn’t noticed before. No signs of having been punched, however. But it’s his eyes that catch your attention, stricken and looking straight up. Almost like he’s unresponsive, when just a second ago he’d been on his feet and just fine.
“Oh god, oh my god. Steve!?” Your voice goes high with panic. With trembling hands, and quick, flurrying movements, you shake his shoulders. But all that does is make his head loll back, and he’s still staring up at the sky with a glassy look on his face, not reacting to you at all. Almost like he’s on another planet. Trying to keep your panic at bay, you quickly try and feel for his pulse, and that’s when you really start to lose it.
“Oh my god, Ari, he-he doesn’t have a pulse! I can’t find his pulse, I c-can’t– ARI, DO SOMETHING!”
Ari, who up until this moment seemed to be frozen in shock, staring at his still clenched fist as he stood over the two of you, seems to finally snap out of it. He springs into action, pushing you aside and crouching down next to the blond. He grabs his wrist while you look on, horrified beyond belief over what exactly was happening in front of your eyes.
He knew that mixing alcohol with his medication was dangerous, you think to yourself, another bout of sick realisation dawning on you. He’s pre-med, he’s studying to be a doctor. Of course, he knew! Had he… had he meant to do this? Oh God…
“He’s got a pulse,” Ari mutters, “He’s got one but it’s weak.”
Tears gather in your eyes as your head starts to spin, “H-He was on this medication, he told me earlier F-For his mood swings or something. And he was drinking too, and he probably took his pills and he drank and, oh God, I should’ve done something! I didn’t think it was that bad, I didn’t–”
“We need to call 911.” Ari says firmly, and you’re relieved that at least one of you is keeping their wits about them. You don’t know whether Ari’s just good under pressure or whether he’s in genuine shock too, judging by the frozen look on his face. Nevertheless, you watch him as he stands up, getting his phone out of his pocket and dialling the number.
And, almost like in cruel irony, the howling winds that had been swirling around you have now gone silent. Deathly silent. It’s like the three of you are in a vacuum, and yet you can barely even hear Ari talking on the phone. All you can hear is your fucking heart in your chest, and the racing of your own thoughts: this is my fault, this is my fault, this is my fault…
“Come on, Steve!” You urge, grabbing his hand and almost recoiling because of how limp and cold it feels. He’d been so warm when you’d kissed him hours earlier, so warm and soft. And it seems like lightyears ago, that kiss followed by the breathless silence. How you’d noted how he looked like he was one sip away from disaster. Oh, why hadn’t you done more? You could have sobered him up, but you’d been so wrapped up in your own problems. And now?
“P-Please, don’t do this. Just wake up. Or say something, just please!” And you don’t know why you’re having such a reaction – wasn’t it you who’d told Steve hours ago how you and him barely even knew each other? How there was nothing between the two of you? How he’d ruined all of that? Then why, why, why was your heart burning up right now? Like a ball of fire deep in your chest, waiting to explode. You tap his cheek desperately, noting the blueish tone of his lips, wondering why you hadn’t noticed that earlier. Beating yourself up over it.
“They’re coming,” you hear Ari say behind you, “An ambulance is on its way. It’s gonna be okay.”
But you don’t even hear him, too busy thinking back to when Steve had been in your dorm room earlier tonight. The sad look in his eyes as he’d turned to leave after your kiss. You can feel your tears soaking up your freezing cold cheeks now as you squeeze his hand.
“I forgive you, okay? I forgive you! Just wake up, please! Steve, just wake up! Didn’t you hear me? I forgive you!”
Your tears blur your vision, and his face becomes a pale blur. Fiercely, you wipe your eyes with your one free hand. And vaguely, you can feel Ari’s hand on your shoulder. And his is so warm. And Steve’s is so cold. Hot and cold. Cold and hot. You don’t even notice when you feel your own hand being squeezing lightly.
“That’s good,” Steve says faintly, his lips barely moving. You gasp and move closer, hoping you haven’t imagined it. His eyes flutter gently, like he doesn’t want to keep them open anymore. But his face looks relaxed, so relaxed that it’s scary, and it feels like you’re looking at a ghost. Those blue lips part once more. “Don’t worry about me. I’m comfortably numb, remember? I think I finally made it last…”
“No, no, no, no…” you scramble, watching as his eyes slip shut. You squeeze his hand again, shake at his shoulders, tap his cheek. Oh no, no, no, no. And all around you, the trees start swaying once more. The great gusts of wind continue, almost like they never even stopped, and another branch falls to the ground. The grass rustles beneath where Steve lies, and the moonlight shines on his face, making his pallor look a deathly kind of beautiful. Like an angel.
And it reminds you of the first night you’d met him. The night you’d dreamed of him. He’d looked like an angel in your dreams too.
The wind whistles with great might, and it sounds like a cackle. As if it’s mocking you. And Steve is still, and Ari’s still holding firmly on to you, and you can barely hear the blare of the siren as the ambulance slowly approaches.
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A/N: .....did Steve just.... OH MY GODDD. Well, if you made it this far then congratulations!!! I really hope y'all liked it. I'm so scared it didn't live up to expectations. I KNOW there was no smut but you guys I tried my best to see where I could fit it in... I just couldn't justify putting it in anywhere in the story and it actually making sense, pls understand! UGHHH I'm just so insecure about this chapter, but if you liked it PLESE PLEASE let me know what you think! Any thoughts, comments, feedback would genuinely be appreciated SO much like SO SO much omfg. Like any favourite parts etc? I really wanted to focus on romantic scenes between reader and the two guys and i hope i showed that! BUT YEAH PLS LMK WHAT YOU THINK ILY ILY.
Okay and as usual, here are some questions!! (y'all don't have to answer them, but just in case anyone does!!!)
Which romantic scene did you prefer? Steve coming up reader's window or Ari taking reader on a picnic? OR NEITHER???
What are your thoughts on Carla Wanda after this chapter??? LMFAOO.
Why was Sharon more upset with reader than with Ari? Hmm.....
Did Ari really spread Kira's nudes around :( ?? Or do you think there's more to the story?
TEAM ARI OR TEAM STEVE? ( if he's okay that is damn )
AND THAT'S IT! Hope y'all enjoyed it! I'm gonna stop yapping now bahahaha byeee ily ily ily
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bethanythebogwitch · 6 months
Text
Wet Beast Wednesday: moray eels
This week on Wet Beast Wednesday I'll be going over something amazing, a fish with a sense of morality. You see, the moral eel is known for, what... I think I'm reading this wrong. Oh, MoRAY eel, not moral. Well this is awkward. Hang tight, I need to go redo my research.
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(Image: a green moray (Gymnothorax funebris) swimming outside of its burry, with its whole body visible from the side. It is a long, slender fish that looks a bit like a snake. A long fin starts just below the head and continues down the length of the body. The body is arranged in a wave pattern. It has a pointed snout and small eyes. Its body is a yellow-green color. In the background is the sandy seafloor, dotted with various sponges and corals. End ID)
Moray eels are true eels, meaning they are in the order Anguiliformes. Yeah, I did wolf eels, electric eels, and lamprey eels before I got around to actual eels. There are over 200 known species of moray eel in 15 genera. Like other eels, they are elongated bony fish with extra vertebrae and reduced fins. Moray eels have fewer fins than most eel species, only having a dorsal, anal and tail fin that merge together and run down the back of most of the body and underneath portion of it. They achieve motion by undulating this long fin and sometimes undulating the rest of the body as well. Moray eels aren't the fastest of fish, but they can swim backwards, something almost no fish can. The head has a long snout with wide jaws. Most species have long fangs used to grab onto prey, but a few species are adapted to eat hard-shelled prey and have molar-like teeth to crush through shells instead. Probably the coolest feature of morays are the pharyngeal jaws. This is a second set of jaws located in the back of the mouth. When the eel bites onto prey, the jaws can be shot forward to grab the food and help pull it into the throat. While lots of fish have pharyngeal jaws, morays are the only ones who can extend their pharyngeal jaws forward and use them to grab prey. Morays have smooth, scaleless skin that is often patterned to provide camouflage. The skin is coated in mucus that provides protection from damage and infection. In some species, the mucus can be used to glue sand together to help reinforce burrows. Morays lack lateral lines, a system of organs found in most fish that senses changes in water movement. Their sense of smell is their primary sense. The size of morays varies between species. The smallest species is the dwarf moray eel (Gymnothorax melatremus) which reaches 26 cm (10 in) long. The largest species by mass is the giant moray eel (Gymnothorax javanicus) which can reach 3 meters (10 ft) and 30 kg (66 lbs) while the longest species is the slender giant moray (Strophidon sathete), the longest known specimen of which measured in at 3.94 m (12.9 ft).
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(Image: a giant moray (Gymnothorax javanicus) emerging from a burrow. It is brown and mottled with yellowish patches. Its head is pointed at the camera and it's mouth is wide open, aming it look shocked. End ID)
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(Image: an anatomical diagram of the skeleton of a moray eel emphasizing the pharyngeal jaws and the muscle attachments. End ID. Art by Zina Deretsky)
Moray eels are found throughout the Atlantic, Pacific, and Indian oceans. Different species are found in different temperatures and depths, though most species live in relatively shallow, warm water. Several species can live in brackish water and a few will swim upriver and live for a time in fresh water, though there do not appear to be any species that live their entire lives in fresh water. Morays are ambush predators who rely on the element of surprise. They live in small, tight places such as holes in coral, gaps between rocks, or sandy burrows. When prey passes, the eel can lunge out and grab it. Unlike most fish, the eel cannot use suction feeding due to the shapes of their mouths. They have to rely on lunging froward and catching prey with their mouths. Their mouths are adapted in shape to push water to the sides. This reduces water resistance and avoids creating a wave that could push prey away from the eel. If an eel catches prey that cannot be swallowed whole, it will tie itself in a knot while biting on to the food. By pulling its head through the loop, the eel can rip the food into bite-sized pieces. Spending most of their times in burrows also provides protection from predators, especially in juveniles or smaller species. At night, the eels will come out of their burrows to hunt sleeping prey while the larger predators are asleep. Giant morays have also been seen engaging in interspecies cooperative hunting with roving coral groupers (Plectropomus pessuliferus). The eels can fit into small crevices the groupers can't to flush prey into the grouper's path while catching their own. Morays are mostly solitary species and many can be territorial. They are known to be shy and will retreat into their burrows if they feel threatened. They are also curious and many species are quite intelligent.
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(Image: a male ribbon eel (Rhinomuraena quaesita) on a coral reef. It is a very long and slender eel with its body curved in many waves. It is brightly colored, with a blue-purple body, yellow fin and face, and a long black and white stripe running down the back half of the body. On the nostrils are two feather-like structures. End ID)
Morays reproductive strategies are poorly known and differ based on species. While many species seem to have no set mating season and will reproduce whenever they can, others will mate at the same time every year. Some species seem to have dedicated spots to lay their eggs and a few are believed to be anadromous, meaning they travel from the sea to fresh water to spawn. Meanwhile, some of the species that spend a lot of time in fresh water are catadromous, meaning they return to sea to mate. Females will lay their eggs and the male fertilize them. After this, they depart, providing no parental care. As with all true eels, moray eels begin life as leptocephalus larvae. This type of fish larvae is notable for its resemblance to a simple, transparent leaf with a head on one end. These larvae are unique and poorly understood, despite being the larval stage of a lot of different species of fish. They are unusually well developed for larvae, capable of active swimming and generally living life. In fact, some particularly large leptocephalus larvae were initially mistaken for adult fish. They feed mostly on bits of drifting organic material called marine snow and can remain in the larval stage for up to 3 years, with those in colder conditions usually taking longer to metamorphose. All leptocephalus larvae start out with no sex organs, then develop female organs, then develop male ones, becoming simultaneous hermaphrodites. They will ultimately become eith male or female and it is likely that environmental factors are the main determining factor. During metamorphosis into a juvenile, the leptocephalus can reduce in size by up to 90%, resulting in the juvenile being smaller than the larva. The process of maturation is poorly understood, but it seems that most morays will be sexually mature by three years of age.
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(Image: multiple photos of a particularly large leptocephalus larva (not sure what species). It is a translucent organis, wth a body shaped like a very long leaf, narrow at both ends. In the frint is a very tiny head. End ID)
Morays are shy and generally avoid humans. Though some cultures have hunted them for food, they are often not considered a particularly good food source. Many species have high levels of chemicals called ciguatoxins in their bodies, which can lead to a condition called ciguatera fish poisoning if eaten. The largest threat to morays is habitat loss. This is especially true for the many species that live in coral reefs, which are in increasing danger due to global warming. Attacks on humans are rare and usually happen as a response to a human sticking their hand in the eel's burrow. Some of the large species could cause significant damage with a bite. Some species, usually the smaller ones, are found in the aquarium trade, thought they are not good pets for beginners as even the smallest morays are still large for aquarium fish and have some specific requirements. The curiosity many morays have has led to some becoming familiar with and even friendly to humans, often the result of feeding them. They can recognize individual humans and remember them over the course of years. Aquarium employees sometimes report that the eels will come to nuzzle and play with them and have personalities like dogs. Marine biologists and professional SCUBA divers Ron and Valorie Taylor befriended a pair of eels they named Harry and Fang at the Great Barrier Reef who would remember them and come out to visit them year after year.
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(Image: a SCUBA diver hugging a large, brown moray with black spots. End ID)
youtube
(Video: A shot video showing Valeria Taylor and a moray eel she befriended)
youtube
(Video: the song "That's a Moray", a parody of the song "That's Amore" by Dean Martin)
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keyotos · 3 months
Text
➳ you're my achilles heel
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summary ⎯ niche microtropes w/ the hsr men! emphasis on the micro (not rlly)
includes ⎯ dan heng, aventurine & jing yuan
tana talks ⎯ who's missed me? i've been gone for a HOT minute, and what other way to come back than kickstarting my 1k event: niche microtropes! more info about that will be here. thank you so so much for 1k!!!!
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dan heng
when they both have to share a bed and one of them reveals it was the best night of sleep they've ever had
⎯ dan heng has made a lot of mistakes in his life, and letting march choose hotel rooms has to be one of them.
⎯ granted, he truly thought that march would do a good job at choosing the hotel, financial planning, and of course–choosing the rooms.
⎯ and everything was great. until you and dan heng had to share a bed.
you and dan heng shifted around the bed a few times before finally settling into designated spots. it was decided that dan heng would sleep on the outside, while you slept near the wall. his back faced you as he tucked himself into bed.
⎯ you and dan heng were friends. this awkwardness wasn't normal, and there should be no reason for the two of you to be avoiding each other like you are now. alas, here you are now, laying at least a foot apart.
⎯ the room is completely silent, and a bit cold as well. dan heng felt a breeze constantly grazing his shoulders. yeah. there was no way he could sleep like this
⎯ you, on the other hand, felt too hot. you had most of the blankets on your side and you felt SUFFOCATED. sometimes, it felt hard to breathe. but u weren't sure if that was just nerves or bc of how hot you felt.
⎯ ultimately, you are the one who has to make the first move.
"dan heng," you turned around and whispered, "are you cold?"
⎯ obviously, he was cold. but was he going to say anything about it?? no.
"i'm fine," he said, still facing his back towards you. "are you cold?" you gulped at the dry response. usually, you find yourself always wanting to talk to dan heng. he was never a boring converser, so why was he acting so strange tonight? but then again, you had no room to talk—you haven't said a word to dan heng until now.
⎯ at this point, you're a little frustrated at the lack of communication between the both of you. so—being the problem solver that you are—you decide to do something about it
slowly, you inch closer to dan heng—just to test the waters, of course. dan heng doesn't reach much, only a small head turn once he feels a dip in the mattress. you take some of the blanket and throw it over dan heng, awaiting his response.
⎯ meanwhile, dan heng over here is internally flipping out. when you inched towards him, dan heng could feel his heart skipping more than a few beats. and when you threw the blanket over him, dan heng wasn't sure if he felt warm due to the blanket or you.
⎯ when he finally turns over, you have to hide your wide eyes and slacked mouth underneath the blanket. you peer back up, and he's staring right at you.
"are... you okay?" you whisper underneath the blanket. "i'm cold," is all dan heng says. you hide your smile underneath the blanket, but you have a feeling dan heng knows you're smiling anyway. he's looking straight in your eyes after all.
⎯ and then you say it. you practically hit the pentagon.
you open up the blanket to where it reveals a dark silhouette of your body. "do you want to share?"
⎯ dan heng practically malfunctions. usually, there are always things dan heng says to fill the silence. he never runs out of words. not in a talkative way like march, but rather, he has an extensive vocabulary
⎯ this time though? haha. very funny. he's gone mute.
dan heng blinks at you while you hold the blanket open. you raise an eyebrow, taunting him. he squeezes his eyes shut, and then reopens them to find you still holding the blanket. was he halluncinating?
"i don't want to intrude." "oh please," you quietly laugh, "we're already sharing a bed. we crossed the line of intrusion a few hours ago."
⎯ and that sounds like a good deal to the both of you. except, one thing.
"are things going to change after this?" dan heng asks you. you're glad it's dark, so dan heng doesn't see you flush, "i don't see why things would change," you say, maintaining a calm face.
⎯ that's enough to get dan heng under the covers with you.
⎯ you two sleep wonderfully the rest of the night—you two even woke up early too. you were the one to wake up first. the sun shone on your face, yet you didn't even feel the glare at all. you felt energized, which was weird considering that you went to bed at questionable hour last night.
⎯ oh, and you also felt a pair of arms over your waist too. and something pressing into your neck. and something wrapping around your legs. and you also feel really hot. is that from the sun????
⎯ yeah. it's going to be harder to keep your word.
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aventurine
those dancing scenes where it just so happens that the lighting focuses on the two of you
⎯ lavish parties and extravagant events weren’t new to aventurine, who just so happened to stumble on one of the biggest on penacony
⎯ sometimes, the families hold galas. it’s more of an exclusive thing, so aventurine had to do some awkward mingling in order to get in. that includes a very awkward conversation with a security guard, who kept raising eyebrows at his outfit.
⎯ beforehand, he had no interest in going to this event. however, once faced with the possibility that he could gather intel, his mind quickly changed.
⎯ now, he is standing right next to you, the heir to penacony's iris family. in his short time on the planet, he's seen your face countless times: on billboards, commercials, and next to various items. but seeing it in person?
⎯ way. different.
"you've never been dancing before?" you lead the ipc executive, aventurine, down the halls of the iris family's ballroom. aventurine shakes his head as he follows you, "not once. though, as the iris family's biggest celebrity, i take it you're used to dances?" your eyes widen when you hear him utter the compliment, "i'm... i'm not sure i'm the biggest celebrity," you rub your neck sheepishly. you tilt your head back, "and i don't think i can remember a time where i didn't dance."
⎯ aventurine has one goal tonight, and it's to get information about the families. if all goes according to plan, then he'd have the upper hand on penacony itself, thus being able to use his knowledge as a bargaining chip for the ipc.
⎯ and if there's one thing aventurine is good at, it's bargains.
⎯ so now, aventurine is trying his hardest to charm you into giving out any information. because people like you always talk.
"that must've been nice," aventurine eggs you on, "from what i can tell, parties on penacony are always fun." you let out a small laugh, "i'm glad you think that." the two of you walk side-by-side, and you aren't saying a single thing. aventurine flexes his hand by his side, preparing to make more idle chatter. he's about to open his mouth when a bright, shining light beams onto the both of you.
⎯ from the look on your face, aventurine can tell that you did not like that. he stands there passively, awaiting for your next move.
⎯ what he did not expect was for you to hold out your hand for him.
"um," you clear your throat. your eyes dart around the room and you gulp, holding out your hand, "may i have this dance?"
⎯ aventurine meets your nervous eyes with his wide ones. it looks like the two of you have no other choice. eyes are on the both of you when aventurine takes your hand, and you pull him into a quiet space in the ballroom.
⎯ let's get one thing straight: aventurine does not know how to dance.
⎯ so currently, he's trying to avoid stepping on your toes, while trying to remain in sync with you. on the inside, aventurine is annoyed. there are ears everywhere, meaning that there's a bigger risk. however, aventurine is all about risks, and the night is still young.
"i thought you liked dances," aventurine purposefully whispers into your ear, and he can feel the heat rise up. his voice is sultry and sweet, and he hopes to get you addicted to it soon. you look up at him with crinkled eyes. the light is glaring on you, and it seems like you're glinting instead of shining. "i never said that." aventurine takes notice of the rise and fall of your chest—much faster than when the two of you met. the corner of his lip raises a little bit, "oh, i'm sorry. but are you uncomfortable? i thought you've been doing this for years? let me know if i can do anything to help?" he offers.
⎯ you only smile, and aventurine gives you a polite smile back. he follows your lead, waiting for you to say something, but you only lead him around the ballroom.
⎯ the light is still trailing after you, except it's beaming more on aventurine than you at this point.
⎯ it's beaming more on aventurine. oh. he gets it now.
"do you wanna get out of here?" he whispers in your ear once again. he has to try his hardest to bite down the smirk that was about to appear on his face. this was going to be easier than he thought. you grab his hand in a tight hold, "no," you firmly state, "we're staying here."
⎯ wow. what a shift of tone.
"i need your help," you mutter under your breath. "help me, and i'll do anything," you look up into his eyes, pleading with him through your gaze.
⎯ aventurine nearly steps on your feet. what?
"uh–what?" aventurine questions you as you keep moving.
"sneak me out of here. we can't go through the doors—there's the bloodhound family everywhere. but i need you to get me out," you beseech. you grab his hand, bringing it up to your chest and slowly sliding it down to your waist.
⎯ aventurine has to remind himself to keep his cool multiple times. breathe in, breathe out. what were you getting at here? why did you want to escape?
"listen, what i said earlier. about the parties. i need to get out," you spin yourself around and back into the blond. "help me," you connect your palms as you circle him, "and i'll help you," you intertwine your fingers together.
⎯ the light still glistens over the both of you. and aventurine thinks two things: he's gotten into something he didn't need to get into, and that he finally has a way into the family.
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jing yuan
second chance romance, except the two of you have been keeping tabs on one another the entire time.
⎯ jing yuan's childhood is filled of fond memories: his old master, the bright and sunny days when he would train, and you.
⎯ you, who jing yuan would willingly miss trainings for. you, the brilliant and clever reporter who broadcasted for the people. you, who jing yuan had to let go.
⎯ he'd spend days rereading what you've wrote; whether it be small stories or big news on the luofu. everything you had written intoxicated him. however, all good things have to end eventually.
⎯ the break-up wasn't even technically a break up, because you two weren't even together. the harsh reality was that you two were just friends, so jing yuan has no actual reason to be moping around. people lose friends all the time, and with jing yuan's lifestyle, it was bound to be imminent.
⎯ as the general, jing yuan had new priorities, and it seems like you weren't one of them anymore.
⎯ so, you move on with your career. you founded the xianzhou's very own broadcasting channel, which aired to the millions of citizens across all ships. you're a superstar who hasn't left their core values. rather than the big stories, you focus on local ones. you focus on the people.
⎯ and general jing yuan... focuses on his job. sort of. not really.
⎯ can you really say that a general is focused on his job when he goes missing?
"jing yuan," your side aches once you utter his name, and you suppress an agonized moan, "why are you here?"
⎯ you know what they say, old habits die hard.
⎯ the founder of the xianzhou's broadcasting channel was found in critical condition a few days ago. you had been reporting on the a civil case that had struck on one of the ships, and—next thing you know—blood ran from your fingertips and you rushed into a critical care unit.
"how did you even get here?" you ask as you lift yourself up higher on the bed. jing yuan steps forward, but you move back. "i haven't spoken to you in years. you cut me off, and then you show up now? can i atleast get an explanation on how you found me?"
⎯ jing yuan's silence tells you all that you need to know. you keep up with the dozing general, even if you are off the luofu. because still, even after all these years, your heart trails after him.
"i wanted to see you," jing yuan blurts. his voice is much more deeper than you remember it to be. "so i contacted the hospital and told them that my old friend was in critical condition, and i needed to see you." you scoff, "an old friend is a stretch." you pause and look down at your hands. and then, a thought furrows in your mind. "wait, if you knew where i was hospitalized—you read my articles?" "i've never stopped."
⎯ oh. oh? oh????
⎯ safe to say that you were rendered speechless. the next five minutes were spent by you staring at jing yuan, jaw-dropped and all.
"how long?" you asked. "too long," jing yuan dryly chuckles. "since i left."
⎯ the air is thick, and things are obviously tense. and there are so many things to talk about. so many things to tell him. such as how you've surfed before (it was a big dream of yours). or how you finally adopted the cat you always wanted (you hope he brings up his lion).
⎯ and while you sit there, you realize that you've missed this. how could you even live without this for hundreds of years? without him? was it surreal to feel so strongly about a person that left so long ago?
⎯ so many milestones missed. so many to make up for. so many things to talk about. so many things to clear up. and you still want to do it all with jing yuan.
⎯ does he still want to do it with you?
you clear your throat, attempting to sit up straighter. you're struggling, and you've never felt so embarrassed in your life. while trying to adjust yourself once more, you see a shadow appear above you, and it's the one and only jing yuan. "do you need help?" he asks, holding his arm out for you as support. you take it gladly, pulling yourself up by grabbing onto his (big) forearm. "thank you," you dust yourself off, checking your side for any rips in your stitches. "now," you begin, letting out a shaky breath, "i think... i think we're overdue for a chat."
⎯ you knew jing yuan. you'd like to know him now. jing yuan knew you too, and now—judging by the look on his face—he'd like to know you too.
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god i've missed the hc's so much. like i'm truly going back to my roots here. be honest did y'all miss the hc's too or was that just me????
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evie-sturns · 8 months
Text
𝑀𝑜𝓇𝑒 - 𝒞𝒽𝓇𝒾𝓈 𝒮𝓉𝓊𝓇𝓃𝒾𝑜𝓁𝑜
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summary: you're at chris's house to hangout and watch a movie, but it ends in you riding him till he cant think.
warnings: smut, sub!chris, swearing
requested: yuup
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me and chris have been together for a month or so, but we've never fucked. i mean, hes never really brought it up to me because he doesn't want to rush our relationship.
It's 8:30pm, and i'm approaching chris's front door for a movie night.
i knock 3 times softly on the front door and chris slowly opens it, his face lights up when he sees me.
"y/n! you look beautiful." he says giving me a hug and bringing me inside. hes wearing a white shirt and grey sweatpants, my heart drops as i see a slight dick imprint through his sweatpants.
"oh my god" i whisper to myself before i walk into his living room behind him, he jumps onto the couch and rests an arm on the headrest of the couch, signalling for me to come sit next to him.
"so what are we watching?" i say cuddling next to chris, resting my head on his chest.
he seems distracted by something, my eyebrows furrow "chris?" i repeat softly and he shakes his head quickly
"hm?" he says putting a pillow on his lap swiftly.
"you alright?" i say quietly as i flick through netflix, "y-yep yeah." he says frantically.
i put on a show and cuddle closer to chris, making myself comfortable, he squirms slightly before standing up off the couch. my cheeks flush as i see his lap, which now has a major tent on it.
hes hard.
he locks eyes with mine "im going to the bathroom" he says, droplets of sweat on his forehead form as he notices my eyes, fixed on his crotch. "chris.." i say slightly shocked as my eyes flicker from his dick to his eyes.
chris goes red as he stands looking at me with humilation spread on his face "shit sorry.." he mumble backing out of the living room.
"come back chris." i say staring at him and he walks slowly over to me in silence.
"sit down." i demand and he instantly does, he looks terrified and pissed with himself.
"sorry about you know.. that." he whispers "i can go fix it, just give me like 5 minutes, this is kind of embarrasing." he continues.
"dont be embarrased chris." i say palming his dick through his sweats, his breath hitches in his throat, his dick is pressing against the fabric practically begging to be realeased.
i squeeze his dick slightly through his pants making him throw his head back "please." he groans, lifting his hips into my hand. i sit up off the couch then kneel on the floor between his legs. he squirms as he whimpers "are you nervous." i tease, lifting his shirt up revealing his happy trail.
"do you touch yourself a lot chris?" i ask before licking a line from his belly button to the waistband of his sweats. "anwser me please." i say stopping all movements, making him moan lightly in desperation.
"sometimes." chris mumbles, covering his face. "how often." i question "every few days.." he lets out a shaky breath.
i slowly lower his sweatpants, revealing the base of his cock. he grips the pillow beside him "please y/n fuck.." he whines and i pull down the pants even more, his cock springs out onto his stomach and my eyes widen, hes big.
precum leaks out of his tip and down his length. the room is filled with his heavy breaths as i use the ends of my fingers to rub in the precum as a lube.
"chris, tell me what you want me to do."
"ride me please y/n, i cant.." he groans out and i nod, pulling my tanktop off of me and throwing it to the floor, my bra and shorts follow. chris's eyes are layed on me, "oh my fucking god your so beautiful" he whines.
i stand between his legs before sititng down on his thighs, straddling him. hes worked up. i decide to stop teasing and pull off my panties, his jaw slacks as his hair sticks to his forehead from sweat. i sit up slightly before moving up, positing myself above his tip.
i sink down, making chris moan lightly "fuck you're big." i groan as i sit down on his dick fully. "please keep going.." he whispers as he sinks his fingers into my waist.
after a few minutes of bouncing on his cock he starts to whimper "im so fucking close" he warns before cumming inside of me. "im sorry shit.." he says throwing his head back, instead of stopping i keep going at a quicker pace, overstimulating him "i cant.." he whines sinking his fingers further into my hips. hes already close again as i bounce faster and deeper.
without warning he releases again, deep in me. tears drop down his face from overstimulation and i quickly wipe them from his cheeks before finishing, letting out a soft but load moan.
i instantly pull off of him as he shakes, tears continue to slowly fall down his face. "dont cry, are you okay?" i say softly, sitting on the couch next to him. hes in utter shock. he nods as i pull him into a tight hug "that was alot.." he says shakily, but a small smirk plays at his lips. "i really liked it, you felt so good." he says embarrassed as i droop a leg over his thigh.
"chris." i say, my eyes widening.
"yeah..?"
"how the fuck are you hard again."
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2K notes · View notes
Text
Favoritism
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Pairing: Line Cook!Azriel x Reader
Summary: Azriel always seems to be working. Well, not always. Sometimes he's on the phone outside the restaurant with a massive smile on his face.
Word count: 1.3k
Warnings: None
a/n: Another little piece for this AU!! I'm loving building it up and including all the characters. I'm also loving characterizing Azriel!!! I can't wait for it to get more juicy and to add some angst in the near future ;) Thanks for reading!!!
Main Masterlist ♡
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“Here again, Azriel?”
“I picked up Lucien’s shift,” Azriel explained, moving the pan side to side atop the flame. 
Elain hummed, her hip against the counter. “You all have such weird names.” 
Azriel rose a brow. “Your sister’s name is Nesta. And Feyre isn’t very common either.” 
“Yes, well my sisters are included in my definition of ‘all’.” 
Azriel hummed, pinching salt into the pan and flipping its contents. The heat from the stovetop warmed his fingers as he went, calling his attention to the tan lines along his knuckles—rings he constantly needed to remove for work, an action that had been even more prevalent in recent weeks. 
Elain spoke up again. “I feel like I see you here every time I work.” 
“You call out every other shift. Of course you’re going to see me on the off-chance you come in,” Azirel droned, but there was a hint of a smile on his face that had Elain scoffing out a laugh. 
“Oh, ha ha,” Elain mocked. “But seriously, Az, you’re always in this kitchen. I know for a fact that Rhysand wouldn’t make his best friend work so much. What’s the deal?” 
Azriel knocked his head to the side as he considered Elain’s question. He plated the meal he had been working on—the one that would send Elain and her barrage of questions away—and set it on the counter she occupied. He gave his hands a quick wash, flipping a hand towel over his shoulder and crossing his arms. The waitress had not moved from her spot. 
“Money.” 
Elain did not budge. “Money? You? I know you can afford that house of yours without all of these hours. Rhys pays you far too much.” 
Azriel gave her a look as if to say that’s my explanation. Take it or leave it. 
Elain was not taking that explanation, clearly. Azriel watched her roll her eyes and let out another scoff before swiping the plate from the counter. 
“Always so stupidly secretive,” she huffed. “You are ridiculous.” 
Elain missed the small laugh Azriel breathed out as she left in a flurry.
Azriel then noticed the small break in orders that was typical for this time of day and used the opening as an excuse for his break. He called out to the others in the kitchen and then made his way to the dining room with his phone loosely gripped in his hand. 
A few taps on the screen and your voice came through. 
“Hi, Az,” you greeted, a smile clear in your words.
“Hi, baby,” he smiled right back. The earring on his right ear clicked against the phone as he licked his lips and continued. “You not in class?” 
“I tried to plan my schedule around your lunch rush. No class between the hours of two and four.” 
Azriel felt his face heat a fraction. “Right. Forgot about that.” 
You giggled. “So, how’s work? I didn’t expect you to go in this morning.” 
“It’s fine. Work. I was just picking up a shift as a favor. But I’ll be off in time to get you for dinner.” 
Azriel listened as something shuffled in the back of your call—bikers whizzing past you, he assumed. That damn campus always gave him a heart attack. You called out a small apology he was sure no one was listening to before speaking to him once more. 
“You seem to owe a lot of favors, Az. Are you causing that much trouble over there?” you joked.  A small pause. “Also, do you think we could eat in? I don’t really have the money for a restaurant right now. My financial aid is not aiding me in the ways it should.” 
Azriel felt his heart clench at the humorless laugh you released. You lived on campus and relied on the school’s dining plan which did very little for you nutritionally and emotionally. He had offered—countless times—for you to live with him or let him buy you groceries or just straight-up give you money, but none of that made you comfortable. 
So, Azriel found other ways to solve this problem. 
Azriel hummed in feigned contemplation. “We could. But the boss gave me a gift card to that new place downtown. I figured we could use it to celebrate.” 
“Oh yeah? And what are we celebrating?” 
“You.” 
“Me?” you asked with an incredulous laugh. “Why on earth would we be celebrating me? All I’ve done recently is complain and cry a few times.” 
Azriel couldn’t remove the smile from his face. He slotted his wrist in the crook of his elbow as he leaned against the wall outside the restaurant. Damn you and all the ways you made him melt in public. 
“You only cried twice this month. We should celebrate that record. Not to mention you were crying over chemistry which we established was an acceptable response to that class.” 
You gasped and began rambling about your chemistry professor. Azriel briefly checked his watch and relished in the fact that he had twenty more minutes to listen to you speak. He happened to miss, however, the waitress who was listening in just around the corner. 
Elain was furious. 
First, Azriel had a girlfriend that she had no idea about. Which was ridiculous because Elain considered Azriel to be one of her closest friends. And second—and perhaps most appalling—Rhysand was handing out gift cards to the staff and she had not been a recipient of this graciousness. 
Elain narrowed her eyes and glared and the stucco lining the building before she slammed her way through the restaurant and straight into Rhysand’s office. The man calmly glanced up from his computer upon her arrival, an amused brow raised at her apparent fury. 
“Hello, Elain,” he greeted. Rhysand leaned back in his chair and interlaced his fingers at his stomach. “You seem in high spirits.” 
“Where’s my gift card?” she demanded, closing the door behind her with a harsh click. “You’re giving out gift cards and I have yet to receive one.” 
Rhysand blinked. “I haven’t given out any gift cards.” 
“And now you’re lying—great.” Elain plopped down in the cushioned chair on the other side of Rhysand’s desk. “I just heard Azriel talking about a gift card to that insanely expensive place that just opened. Rita’s or something. And he was talking to his girlfriend—did you know he had a girlfriend?” 
“I did—” 
Elain hadn’t been looking for a response. “He said you gave it to him. If you’re playing favoritism I will call the Better Business Bureau. And I’ll tell Nesta. You know how she gets around you. Also, why does Azriel, like, live here? Aren’t there laws around overtime? None of his seems fair and—” 
“Elain,” Rhysand calmly interrupted. “May I answer any one of your questions? Or, perhaps, speak?” 
Elain bit the inside of her cheek and nodded in annoyance. 
“Perfect.” Rhysand crossed his ankle over his knee. “I haven’t given out any gift cards. If I do, I promise you’ll be the first to know. It’s possible that Azriel used me as a way to take his girlfriend out to dinner—as he has done countless times. If you were to meet her, you’d see why that was a necessity. She’s very much like Feyre in that way. In that explanation is also the reason why Azriel is always here, working.” 
Elain felt her vexation deflate, but some of it lingered. “And why are you so knowledgeable about this mysterious girlfriend?” 
Rhysand only shrugged. “Azriel’s private. Protective. He knows all of you are a bunch of gossips.” 
Elain scoffed for the countless time that afternoon, still pissed that there was no gift card to be had.
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number1jeonginstan · 2 months
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A/N: I did my own thing with regard to this request as well as tried a different style of writing. I wanted to implement him being sweet and gentle as he stalked you. But idk if I really did that. This was fun to write though, and my requests are once again open so please send me something. I hope y'all enjoy it so please don't be shy and comment or reblog with your opinions because I would love to hear them - ju <3
wc: 9k (what if I told y'all I wrote this all in less than one day with sleep.)
pairing:morethankinda stalker!Felix x afab!reader
DNI if you are uncomfortable with reader giving in kind of easily. This is meant to be a stalker fic, so if you feel uncomfortable, please do not interact. I made this more dubcon because reader does give her consent, but I do not want to make anyone uncomfortable!
warnings: porn WITH a plot (like 2.5k words of smut...), kinda Stockholm syndrome, oral!fem receiving, unprotected sex, creampie, panty sniffing, edging, idk what else!
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“Who orders pineapple juice at a coffee shop?” you giggled looking at Felix as he started making an ice americano for the next customer in line. 
"Someone who doesn't want caffeine and enjoys the taste of tropical fruit, I guess." 
"Or a weirdo!" you giggled before calling out the drink for Christopher.
He chuckled along with you, enjoying the banter. His eyes watched you closely as you called out the drink, taking in every detail of your movements.
"Hey, weird can be good sometimes. Adds some spice to life, right?"
"Yeah, as long as they aren't creepy. My best friend's ex used to follow her after they broke up, even texting her from new phone numbers" You frowned before working on your next drink. 
He nodded, a frown of feigned concern on his face. 
In truth, he found himself growing more fascinated with you the more you talked. He only applied for the job to get closer to you.
The first time Felix came into “The View” he saw you smiling ever so brightly, giving this little girl a free cup of hot chocolate. From that moment on, he knew he had to get to know you, no matter the cost. 
He bribed the hiring manager with a batch of his homemade brownies. In exchange for a job, he had to make at least one batch a day. He didn’t mind working overtime, as long as he was close to you. 
He snapped out of his thoughts, finally responding to you. "That's horrible. No one deserves to be stalked like that. I hope she's doing better now."
"She is, she was really straight with him after the second time, and he stopped which is good, but sometimes I feel like I'm being watched. I don’t know how to explain it, but especially when my shift ends whenever we are working together. Maybe it's just in my head" you sighed before calling out for the next customer.
He tried to act nonchalant, but his mind was racing. Was he that obvious? Was he being too creepy? 
"I hope it's just in your head," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, eyes fixated on you as you called out to the next customer, trying to look away before you noticed him practically staring.
"Yeah, me too. Who knows, maybe I'm just being delusional," you sighed, too caught up in your own world, thinking about the late-night fear of constantly being watched. You were so distracted that you didn't even realize you had almost gripped the machine's steam frother with your bare hand.
His eyes widened as he noticed your hand grasping for the frother without a cloth. He quickly reached out to stop you, grabbing your hand gently but firmly, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. "Hey, watch out, you'll burn yourself!"
"Oh shit, thanks Lixie, I don’t know what I would do without you" you muttered, snapping yourself out of it and getting back to the drink at hand. 
He held onto your hand for a moment longer, enjoying the feel of your skin. He reluctantly let go and smiled at you, trying to act casual. "Lixie," the nickname rolled off your tongue, making his heart flutter. "No problem, just don't want you hurting yourself, you know?"
"I got it, I was just too in my head. I wish there was someone I could walk home with so I would no longer feel so terrified" you sighed, making sure there were no other orders to be completed before ranting away to Felix.
His heart skipped a beat as you confessed your desire to have someone walk you home. He saw his chance and took it. He pretended to be deep in thought, contemplating something before speaking. 
"You know, I don't mind walking you home after our shift ends. If it makes you feel safer."
"You would do that for me?" you asked excitedly, thankful for him. 
He nodded quickly, his smile growing wider. He had to control himself not to seem too eager. This is his chance to be closer to you. 
"Yeah, of course. I mean, it's the least I can do. I don't want you to be scared walking home alone at night."
"Thank you so much Lixie!" you grinned, watching the way he reciprocated your smile. His freckles shine extra bright.
He chuckled softly as you thanked him, his heart-warming as you called him “Lixie”. He found himself smiling more than usual, enjoying the way the nickname sounded coming from your lips.
"No problem, really. It’ll be nice to have some company on the walk home too”.
"I hope it's not out of your way though, I don't even know where you live" you pouted, unsure if letting him walk you home would cause him too much trouble.
He chuckled, seeing your pout and finding it adorable. He reassured you with a wave of his hand. 
"Don't worry about it, it's not out of my way at all. And if it was, I wouldn't mind." 
In truth, he was willing to walk the extra mile (literally) to be able to spend a few more moments with you.
"Are you a hundred percent sure?" too scared that you were inconveniencing him due to your paranoia. 
He nodded, his expression gentle and sincere as he looked into your eyes.
 "I'm absolutely sure. I wouldn't offer if I didn't mean it. I want you to feel safe, and if walking you home is what it takes, then I'm more than happy to do so."
He smiled, feeling a twinge of guilt about his actual motives, but pushing it away. All that mattered to him was being close to you. He took another glance at his watch, noticing that it was almost time to clock out. 
"Actually, our shift is almost done. Ready to head out?"
"We have to make a batch of brownies first though?"  
You looked at him a bit puzzled, not understanding that it was his eagerness that was causing him to forget all about his obligation.  You just chalked it off to him always being a bit forgetful since you became friends with him.
It was a common occurrence, whether it be forgetting to add mocha to a drink or a whole batch of cookies in the oven, Felix always seemed to be just a tad distracted. 
He mentally slapped himself for being so caught up in the moment that he forgot about the brownies. He tried to play it cool. "Right right, I almost forgot about that." 
He chuckled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "We do that first, then close shop."
"Let's get to it then!" you giggled, walking to the front and locking it, turning over the kitten 'Open!' sign that your manager Lee Know had bought before rushing back towards him following him into the cafe's kitchen. 
He followed you into the kitchen, his heart fluttering as he listened to your giggles. Once in the kitchen, he quickly gathered the ingredients for the brownies, setting them on the workbench. 
"Okay, I'll start getting everything measured. Can you preheat the oven?"
“You got it Lix!” you replied back, quickly preheating the oven to 350. 
He smiled at your reply, feeling more and more relaxed in your presence. As he started measuring out the ingredients, he occasionally glanced at you, watching as you preheated the oven. He found himself mesmerized by your every little movement.
"Isn't that too much chocolate Lix?" you asked looking at the bowl that he usually double-broiled the chocolate in.
He glanced down at the bowl, realizing he had indeed put in almost too much chocolate. 
"Oh, right... maybe I got a bit carried away there." He chuckled sheepishly, a slight blush creeping up on his cheeks as he began to measure out a more appropriate amount of chocolate.
"I mean you can never have too much chocolate!" you grinned before eating the excess piece he had taken out, popping it into your mouth. 
He couldn't help but laugh when you ate the excess piece of chocolate, finding your antics adorable. His eyes lingered on your lips as you popped it into your mouth, silently wishing he could be the one feeding you the chocolate.
"You're right, but we still need some chocolate left for the brownies," he joked, his smile widening.
With a playful nudge, he continued measuring the correct amount of chocolate, his gaze flicking back to you. 
"But hey, maybe I could save a few extra pieces for us for some late-night chocolate indulgence, just between you and me."
"I like the way you think Lee Felix" 
You fed him a piece whilst taking another one for yourself, savoring the sweet taste of Hershey’s chocolate. Since you’ve begun helping him bake his brownies, he’s always been adamant about only using Hershey.
His heart skipped a beat as you fed him the piece of chocolate, the sweetness of it almost as sweet as the feeling of your touch. He felt a warm rush of pleasure run through him as he took the chocolate from your hand, his eyes never leaving yours. 
"I do have some good ideas every now and then," he replied, his voice soft and a hint of a cheeky smile playing on his lips.
You continued to help Felix with both the measuring and mixing, not trusting the stand mixer seeing as you didn't want to incorporate too much gluten into the brownies themselves. The two of you laughed away as you finished mixing and pouring the batter into their respective pans.
After the two of you finished pouring the batter into the pans and setting them in the oven, Felix couldn't help but stare at you as you both laughed together about past customers, especially the one who tried to jump over the counter to steal Lix’s brownie recipe.
 The sound of your laughter was like music to his ears, and his heart ached with a desire to keep making you laugh like this every day.
"I have to say," he said, his voice slightly hesitant, "making these brownies is always more enjoyable when you're here. You make everything better."
"Wow thanks, Lix, you are always so sweet" You pinched his cheeks admiring how squishy they were. 
Felix chuckled at your gesture, feeling his cheeks heat up underneath your pinch. He couldn't help but notice how close you were to him, your touches sending small jolts of electricity through his body.
He then looked away, pretending to busy himself by cleaning up the workstation, his heart still racing from your touch. In reality, all he wanted to do was pull you closer and just hold you, but he knew he had to control himself.
“Let me help you!” 
You didn’t want him to do everything himself, especially after he was the one who offered to walk you home, it was the least you could do. 
He was touched by your eagerness to help, his heart melting at your thoughtfulness. He wanted to tell you that he didn't mind doing it himself, but the words got stuck in his throat as he looked at your determined expression. Instead, he simply gave you a small smile. 
"Alright, if you insist," he said, handing you a cloth to wipe down the counter.
It was a sight he was used to. Every night after the two of you closed shop, you bid him a quick farewell, and he would follow you home. He was always 20 steps behind, his hood covering his face just in case. 
Unbeknownst to you, he would watch you through your kitchen window. His eyes fixated on your every move. He knew so many of your habits by now, like the way you used utensils to sing along to whatever was playing in your headphones. Or the way you always drank green tea instead of coffee, letting it steep in your owl mug. He would watch you for hours, no matter the weather, just to get the smallest peak into your life. 
He had become a little obsessed, in all honesty. He found himself unable to tear himself away from the view of you going about your day, his heart and mind fully fixated on you. Every time he peered into your kitchen window, he felt a mix of guilt and excitement. 
The guilt, of course, came from the fact that he was practically stalking you, but the excitement came from the opportunity to see you again, even if it was from afar.
He hated himself for it, but he couldn’t help it. The need to see you, to be near you was too strong to resist.
“Hey Lixie, I think we are pretty much done, are you ready to go?" you asked, pulling the brownies out of the oven directly putting saran wrap on them, and putting them in the fridge so they could get a thick crackle on them by the time Lee Know was supposed to come in and cut them for the morning rush. 
He was abruptly snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of your voice, his eyes snapping up to meet yours. For a moment, he just stared at you, his mind in a daze. 
"Uh, right..." he said, trying to compose himself. "Yeah, we're all done. Let's go."
As he watched you put on your jacket, he couldn't help but take in your every movement, his heart rate increasing once again. He felt a strange mix of excitement and nerves as he realized he was actually going to walk you home, something he had been secretly dreaming of for weeks now.
“You ready to lock up?” you asked, your head cocking to the side as you jingled the keys in front of him, ushering him to leave the building. 
"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, clearing his throat. "Let's get going." 
He reached out and took the keys from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief moment. It felt like an electric shock running through his body, and he instinctively pulled back, hoping you didn't notice the effect your touch had on him.
The two of you began walking side by side, the silence of the world around you causing you peace. You could no longer feel the lingering eyes that roamed your body as you had for the past few months. Instead, you felt a sense of comfort as you walked beside Felix. 
He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly feeling very dry. He was just so aware of your presence, the subtle scent of your perfume, the way your shoulder occasionally brushed against his...it was driving him crazy. It was too silent for his liking so he urged to start a conversation with you, anything to break the tension. 
"Um, so...how's your day been?" he finally managed to ask, wincing inwardly at how lame it sounded.
"Lixie, we had the same day?" 
You chuckled at his antics, your own breath stable compared to his harsh breathing as he just blinked at you, unable to process what you had just said. 
"Hello? Earth to Lee Yongbok Felix, you alive in there?"
He blinked again, his brain finally catching up with what you had said. He chuckled nervously, feeling a bit embarrassed. 
"Right...sorry, I guess I'm just a little tired." 
He mentally kicked himself for being so obvious. He couldn't let on how much your presence affected him. He was supposed to act cool and casual like nothing was going on inside his head. But he was finding it increasingly difficult to do so with every step he took next to you.
"That's your apartment isn't it?" he asked pointing up to your building. The two of you were just a couple hundred feet away from it. 
"Yeah, it is, how did you know?" you asked, a confused look on your face.
You had never brought Felix to your apartment, in a matter of fact, the only people who knew where you lived were your parents, a couple of close friends, and Lee Know because it was on your resume. 
Felix froze, his heart skipping a beat. 
He had let slip that he knew where you lived without realizing it. He mentally cursed himself, trying to think of a quick explanation. He couldn't let you know he had been the one following you home every night. That would be creepy and completely ruin any chance he had with you. 
He swallowed hard, forcing a casual laugh. "Oh, uh...I just guessed. Lucky hunch, I guess."
Before you could even respond, the sky darkened and fat raindrops began to fall, drenching both of you. The chill soaked through your clothes, making you shiver. He stood there, stunned by the sudden downpour. Without a second thought, you grabbed his hand, feeling the warmth of his skin against the cold rain. You tugged him urgently, splashing through puddles as you ran towards your apartment building. The sound of rain and hurried footsteps filled the air. Breathless, you pulled him inside, the warmth and dryness a welcome relief from the storm outside.
Felix felt a rush of adrenaline as you grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the building. The sudden rain had caught him off guard, but the feeling of your hand, warm and tight around his, sent a tingle down his spine.
 He quickly followed you inside, his heart pounding in his chest. He tried to keep his composure, but being this close to you, holding your hand, was doing all sorts of things to him.
"Here why don't you come up to my apartment, I don't want you to get sick from this weather. You can dry off and we can eat something!" 
His heart leaped at your suggestion. The thought of being in your apartment, of being alone with you...it was both exciting and nerve-wracking. But he couldn't say no, not when you were being so kind to him. 
He nodded, trying not to let his eagerness show too much. "Are you sure? I don't want to intrude..."
"I really don't mind. Come up and change into some dry clothes, okay? I'll order us something to eat. Are you okay with Thai food?" you asked as the two of you stepped into the elevator.
 Both of you were drenched, and a puddle began to form at your feet as you waited to reach your floor.
Felix nodded again, his thoughts racing as he watched the elevator numbers climb. He was going to be in your apartment, alone with you, it was like a dream come true. 
"Thai food sounds great," he managed to say, his voice slightly breathless. "I'll eat anything right now, I'm starving."
"I would hope so, you didn't eat anything our entire shift today" you pouted, trying to remember if he even had his daily shaken iced espresso with oat milk that he usually makes twice a shift.
He chuckled at your pout, his heart melting at how cute you looked. He also found it sweet that you kept track of if he had eaten or not. It was one of the many things about you that he loved. 
"Yeah, I guess you're right. I was so busy today that I kind of forgot to take a break."
 He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, a slight blush creeping up on his cheeks. He didn't want to admit that he had been so distracted thinking about you that he hadn't even thought about eating.
"That's not good Lix, you shouldn't over-exert yourself" you scolded him while trying to find the keys to your apartment.
"I know, I know, I just had a lot on my mind today," he admitted, feeling a little guilty for not taking better care of himself.
You finally found your keys and opened the door, allowing him to step inside. "I'm going to shower real quick, and then you can go after me so you don't catch a cold, okay?"
He nodded, trying to keep his cool as he stepped into your apartment. His heart was racing again as he thought about you being naked and wet only a few feet away. 
He cleared his throat, trying to compose himself. "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Just don't take too long, or I might get lonely and start raiding your fridge." He joked, trying to hide his inner thoughts.
He chuckled at the sight of the empty fridge, making a mental note to offer to take you grocery shopping sometime. He quickly took your phone from you, looking down at the already-opened delivery app with your part of the order placed. 
He watched as you headed towards the bathroom, a lump forming in his throat as he imagined you stripping down and stepping into the shower. The image was burned into his mind, and it took all his self-control to not follow you into the bathroom. Instead, he took a deep breath and looked down at your phone, trying to distract himself. 
He glanced at the bathroom door, wondering how long you would be. He was trying not to be impatient, but his mind and body were both eagerly anticipating your return.
You stepped out of the bathroom, steam trailing behind you as you wrapped a towel around your damp hair. Droplets of water trickled down your neck and shoulders, soaking into the fabric of your oversized t-shirt and shorts, making them cling to your skin. The cool air of the room sent a shiver down your spine as you padded softly across the floor toward Felix. 
Felix's breath caught in his throat as you emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a towel and wearing thin, clinging clothes. The sight of you, still slightly wet and rosy from the shower, was almost too much for him to handle. His eyes raked over your body, taking in every inch of damp skin, and his heart skipped several beats. 
He managed to tear his gaze away from you and tried to act casual, but he couldn't help the way his body reacted to your presence. He swallowed hard, trying to control the ache in his jeans.
"Hey, Lix," you said softly, your voice carrying a hint of warmth. "The bathroom is free, so please go ahead and shower. Just hand me your clothes so I can dry them for you, okay?"
"I also left an extra pair of clothes and a towel in the bathroom so it's easier for you"
He quickly stood up, trying to adjust his jeans again and hide his arousal. He picked up his wet clothes from the floor and walked towards the bathroom. 
"Thanks," he said, his voice a little huskier than usual. "I won't be too long." 
He entered the bathroom and closed the door, locking it behind him. He leaned against the door, taking a deep breath to try and calm his nerves and the growing tension in his body.
He slowly stripped off his damp clothes, tossing them towards the door. He couldn't help but glance at the pile of clothes, imagining you taking them off of your body. He quickly picked up your shirt, smelling your scent on it, and the thought made him shiver.
Felix's heart nearly stopped when he saw the pair of black lace panties lying on the floor. His eyes widened and he quickly looked away, his heart rate immediately increasing. 
Before he could stop himself, he picked them up and brought them closer to his face, taking in the scent of your laundry detergent essence on the fabric.
His cock hardened at the thought of you wearing them, your pussy pressing and rubbing against them as the two of you worked the entire day. 
He let out a groan before slowly wrapping the fabric around his leaking cock. What you didn’t know wouldn’t hurt you right? It’s not like he was purposely doing it, it was just right there for his convenience. 
He muffled his moans as he pumped his cock with your underwear, trying to be as quiet as possible as the water ran in the background. His only thought was you. 
You when you wore those cute little dresses. You. When you always bent over to get things from the fridge for him knowing how much his back ached. You. who helped him embrace his freckles. You, who was in this bathroom mere minutes before him, fully naked. 
With that he came with a groan, quickly hopping into the shower to ride out his high under the steaming hot water, cleaning your underwear of any evidence of infidelity while he was at it. 
He grabbed the soap and began to run it over his body, scrubbing away the layers of dirt and sweat, and the shame of him cumming on your pretty little panties, only further intoxicated him with your scent. 
He hadn’t realized how much time had passed until you knocked on the door to the bathroom. 
"Felix?"
He heard your voice calling out to him, breaking the spell. He quickly threw the lace into his pile of clothes and turned off the water, wrapping a towel around his waist.
"Yeah?" he called out, his voice a bit shaky. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah, the food just here so I was wondering if you were finished washing up?"
He took a quick breath, trying to compose himself. 
"Yeah, I'm just about done. I'll be out in a minute." 
He stepped out of the bathroom, his hair still damp and water droplets running down his chest and arms. He tried to ignore the way your eyes lingered on his bare skin, pretending not to notice the slight flush that was creeping up your neck.
"I'm so sorry, I had no idea I forgot to leave clothes for you in the bathroom" you whispered, your cheeks reddened. 
You quickly handed them to him before scurrying out of your room.
Felix chuckled as you handed him the clothes, his heart warming at your flustered state. He found it endearing how shy you were about accidentally forgetting to leave him clothes to change into. He tried to ignore the way his body reacted to the sight of you blushing and flustered, his towel becoming uncomfortably tight for a brief moment.
He quickly dressed in the clothes you had given him, trying his best not to focus on the fact that they smelled like you. The baggy t-shirt was comfortable, but the way it clung to his damp skin and hair made him feel even more on edge.
He took another deep breath and opened the bathroom door, stepping back into the living room where you were setting down plates and chopsticks. 
"So, what's for dinner?" he asked, feigning nonchalance and hoping you wouldn't notice the small bulge in his sweatpants.
You held up the two takeout containers, "well I ordered drunken noodles, and I kind of forgot what you did. We can always share!"
Felix chuckled again, feeling relieved that you hadn't noticed his current...situation. He tried to keep his mind off the way your shirt dipped low enough to show off your collarbones, and the way your shorts rode up slightly on your thighs. He shook his head slightly, trying to clear his thoughts and focus on the food. 
"Sounds good to me," he said, rubbing his stomach. "I'm starving."
He walked over to the couch, sat down, and tried to keep his pose casual. He glanced over at you, noticing how your hair was still damp and your cheeks were still slightly pink. The sight made his heart rate speed up again, and he tried to distract himself by looking down at the food.
He grabbed a pair of chopsticks and started digging into the noodles, trying to act like everything was normal. But as he watched you eat, he couldn't help but let his mind wander to dirty thoughts. He could see your lips wrapped around the utensils, the way your tongue would flick out to catch any stray noodle…
“You okay Lixie?” you asked, looking up at him as you ate more of your food. Your cheeks are slightly full causing him to choke on his own dish. 
He swallowed hard, trying to keep his composure. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," he said, his voice a little strained. "Just...hungry, you know?"
A while passed like this, the silence of the room only occasionally broken up by small talk. The both of you were too infatuated in your food to even register what else was happening. 
"Do you want me to wash up your plate?" you asked, getting up from the cushion you were on.
Felix's eyes followed you as you got up, watching the way your shirt rode up even more, revealing more of your smooth, soft skin.
 He had to bite his lip to keep from groaning, his body responding even more to the sight of you moving around, so close and yet so out of reach. 
He quickly cleared his throat and looked away, trying to compose himself. "Uh, yeah, sure," he managed to say, his voice a little hoarse.
"So you aren't going to have your nightly cup of green tea" he asked as you began cleaning up your table and walking over to your kitchen. 
You looked at him startled, your eyes going wide. "How did you know about that?"
Felix chuckled, feeling a wave of affection for you wash over him. He knew you too well to not know about your obsession with green tea. 
"Let's just say I pay closer attention to your habits than you think," he said with a sly smile. "You have a cup of tea every night before bed, like clockwork. It's almost endearing how predictable you are."
"Felix, I've never had green tea at work, the only time I do is when I get home, how did you know what I drink before I go to bed" you asked, worry ridden on your face as you began to look around your kitchen for anything to protect you.
Felix's smile faded as he noticed the look of worry on your face, and he realized his poor choice of words.
"Hey, hey, calm down," he said, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. "It was just a guess, I swear. I didn't mean to scare you."
"It's not just a guess" you screamed. That's when it clicked, he was the one who had been watching you every night. 
The only time you were followed was after your shift with him. He knew exactly what apartment you lived in. It wasn't just a "lucky guess" as he said. He knew everything.
Felix's heart dropped as he realized the extent of his slip-up. You had figured out that he had been watching you, and now you were scared and confused. 
"Listen, please...let me explain," he pleaded, standing up from the couch. "I can explain everything, just please give me a chance to speak."
"No, I don't want an explanation, I need you to get the fuck out" you screamed, curling into a corner in your kitchen, your body shook as you began to speak up again.
"Why are you doing this to me, I thought we were friends" you whined, tears streaming down your face.
Felix's heart broke as he saw the fear and sadness in your eyes. He took a step closer to you but stopped when you shrunk further into the corner, clearly terrified of him.
"I know, I know, but please, just listen to me," he begged, his voice cracking. "I never wanted to hurt you, I swear. I just...I care about you. I care too much. And I thought...I thought I could prevent something bad from happening if I just kept an eye on you."
"How were you helping? You were the one who was causing everything" you continued to sob.
He wanted to deny your accusations, but he knew he couldn't. He had been the one stalking you, following you home every night and watching you from afar. 
He had justified it to himself, telling himself it was for your own good, but now that you knew the truth, he could see how creepy and wrong it was.
 He took a deep breath and looked you in the eye, his voice quiet and shaky. "You're right. I was the one causing everything."
He took a tentative step closer to you but stopped again when he saw the look of fear flash in your eyes. 
"But I...I never meant to scare you," he said, his own eyes tearing up. 
"I just...I just couldn't stand the thought of something happening to you, and I thought if I just kept a constant eye on you, I could prevent it."
"Protect me how!" you screamed, "why would you do this to me?" you continued to sob. 
"I just wanted to make you feel good sweetheart" he whispered, bending down to capture your face in his hand, brushing away your tears.
He brought down his lips towards your before kissing you, the taste of your tears infiltrating his mouth as you attempted to push him away.
He could feel you trying to push him away, but he just held on tighter, refusing to let you go. He knew he didn't deserve to kiss you, not after everything he had done, but he couldn't stop himself. He needed to feel your lips on his, even if just for a moment.
"Please sweetheart, want to make you feel good. Won't you be a good baby and take it?" he grinned, watching the way your lips puffed out from him ever so slightly nibbling on it.  Your tears streaking your flushed red cheeks. You looked at him meekly before nodding, taking your hand in his, not understanding how he had such an effect on you.
Felix chuckled as you nodded, his heart swelling with a twisted mix of emotions, and he pulled you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your waist as he claimed your mouth in a deep kiss. His tongue slipped past your lips, tasting the salty tears that still lingered on them.
“Such a good girl for me” he muttered into your lips. 
Felix chuckled as you nodded, his heart swelling with a twisted mix of emotions, and he pulled you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your waist as he claimed your mouth in a deep kiss. His tongue slipped past your lips, tasting the salty tears that still lingered on them.
He pushed you backward until your back hit the wall, pinning you against it with his body. He broke the kiss for a moment to look into your eyes, his own eyes darkened with a possessive lust. 
"You're mine, you know that right?" he asked, his voice low and hoarse. "You belong to me and only me."
You whined as he continued to caress your face. 
Felix chuckled again as you whined and leaned into his touch, the sound of your needy whines only fueling his desire for you. He leaned in and whispered in your ear, his breath hot against your skin,
"That's right, sweetheart. You're mine, and I'm never letting go. You're going to do everything I say, and you're going to love every second of it."
He nipped at your earlobe, his hands roaming your body, feeling the soft skin of your back through your shirt.
"And if you're a good girl for me, I'll give you everything you've ever dreamed of," he murmured, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and bite marks in his wake.
"Lixie" you whined as he continued to nibble at your skin.
Felix chuckled at your whine, his heart fluttering at the sound of his nickname on your lips. He continued to kiss and bite at your skin, marking you as his, his hands gripping your hips possessively. 
“All needy and desperate," he whispered, his voice low and hoarse. "It makes me want to do all sorts of things to you."
You grasped his hand and led him to your room, your senses overwhelmed by his embrace, feeling his warmth as he held you close.
Felix followed you obediently, his grip on your hand tight as he allowed you to lead him into your room. His heart was racing with desire and excitement, his mind consumed with thoughts of all the things he wanted to do to you. 
"So obedient," he murmured, his voice filled with praise as he pressed up behind you once you reached the edge of your bed.
He wrapped his arms around you from behind, his chest pressed against your back as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. He inhaled deeply, breathing in your scent as his hands roamed your body. 
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to have you like this," he whispered in your ear, his voice thick with desire.
"Really?" you asked, feeling his embrace tighten as he pressed closer. 
Felix hummed in response, his lips trailing kisses along your neck as he held you close. "Yeah, sweetheart," he murmured between kisses, his hands slipping under your shirt to feel your soft skin. 
"For as long as I can remember, I've craved having you like this, all to myself. It's driving me insane with how badly I want you."
"Is that why you kept watching me?" you asked, turning around to face him, your hand clutching his face, tracing every freckle as he began to speak.
"Yeah," he admitted, his voice low and hoarse. "That's why. I couldn't resist the urge to watch you, to know every move you made, to make sure you were safe."
"I couldn't stop myself from wanting to keep you close. I needed to feel like I had some control over your life, and watching you was the only way I could do that."
"That's not normal though Lixie"
"I know," he admitted, his voice quiet. "I know it's not normal, and I'm sorry. But...but I just...I just couldn't stop myself. I care about you too much."
"Then show me, please," you whispered, kissing his cheek and trailing down to his soft, plump lips.
Felix's heart skipped a beat as you kissed his cheek and then his lips, your whine sending a shiver down his spine. He responded eagerly to your kiss, closing his eyes and savoring the feel of your lips on his. But then he pulled away, a determined look in his eyes. 
"Sweetheart, I can show you, but first you have to promise me something," he said, his voice low and commanding.
"Anything" you whimpered, feeling yourself growing wetter at every passing moment that he wasn't next to you, his touch not being pressed against you
"Promise me that you're mine. Promise me that you belong to me and no one else," he whined as he cupped your cheek, pulling you closer to his face. 
"I promise" you whispered back before kissing him feverishly.
"Good girl," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "You’re all mine now, sweetheart."
Before you could even respond, he pushed you onto the bed, his body following soon after as he settled on top of you. His hands moved under your shirt, his fingers tracing the bare skin of your stomach.
He began to leave a trail of kisses down your neck, stopping to bite and suck at the spot where your shoulder met your neck. He wanted to mark you, to claim you as his own. 
"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this," he murmured against your skin, his hands continuing to roam your body.
"How long Lixie?" you whimpered as he began to pull off your shirt. He took in the sight of your bare skin, biting his lip as he straddled you, his thighs shutting yours closed as he began to kiss up and down your neck. 
"So long" he murmured between kisses. "For years, I've been waiting for this. Wanting you, aching for you."
"Want you too" you whined as you pulled off his shirt, your hands roaming up and down his chiseled chest, watching the way his body clenched slightly as you ran your finger along his abs.
He leaned down and captured your lips in a deep kiss, his tongue dipping into your mouth as he pulled you closer to him, his hands roaming your body once again.
"You have no idea what you do to me," he panted, breaking the kiss for a moment before attacking you once again, your lips pressing against one another feverishly.
You gazed at him, noting his ragged breath. "Then show me," you whimpered as his hands began to caress your thighs.
"I'll show you just how much I desire you, just how much I need you."
He began to kiss and bite at your thighs, his lips and teeth leaving a trail of marks on your skin. He wanted to make sure that you would remember this moment, that you would remember who you belonged to.
He murmured against your skin, his lips trailing kisses up your inner thigh. "Every part of you is mine."
“Yours” you whimpered as he continued to abuse you everywhere but the one place you needed him. 
He loved how needy you were for him, your body begging for his touch. He moved his lips closer to where you needed him, his breath hot against your skin.
Felix's eyebrows raised in surprise and excitement as he pulled off your shorts, his breath catching in his throat as he saw that you weren't wearing any panties. You were so wet it began to drip down to your thighs. 
"You're full of surprises, aren't you baby?" he said, his voice thick with desire. "And here I thought you were a good girl."
He slowly licked a stripe up your cunt, savoring the taste that he couldn’t quite get off your panties. 
“And you taste so good too, could eat you for hours” he moaned before diving back in, his fingers opening up your pretty little cunt for him, allowing him to nip at your clit. 
“Fuck Lix!” you whined above him, your hand finding his hair, intertwining your fingers between it, pushing him deeper into your pretty little pussy.  
He slowly removed his mouth from your cunt, your essence covering the bottom half of his face. “You are going to take what I give you or else you aren’t gonna get anything” he grinned before shoving himself back into you, letting his tongue flick out, swiping across your sensitive flesh, eliciting a gasp from your lips. 
He continued to lick and taste you, his hands gripping your thighs to keep you still as you writhed and whimpered beneath him. He loved the way you tasted. 
“So sweet baby, sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted” he muttered into your poor cunt as he began to push his finger inside of you, stretching out your whole. 
“Lixie, it feels so good” you whined as he continued to lap at you, savoring each and every moan and whine that escaped your pretty little lips. 
He continued to tease you, his tongue and lips bringing you closer and closer to the edge, but never quite pushing you over. He could feel how close you were, how your body trembled beneath him. 
"You want to come, don't you, my sweet girl?" he whispered, his breath hot against your sensitive skin. "But I'm not going to let you. Not yet."
"Why!" you whined underneath him, bucking your hips up to get any sort of stimulation.
He placed his hands on your hips, holding you down with a firm grip, preventing you from bucking against him
"Because I want you to wait for me to fuck you, baby," he murmured, his mouth moving to the other thigh, leaving a trail of love bites in its wake. "I want you to be desperate for me, aching for me. I want to ruin you completely."
His tongue continued to tease you, his lips leaving a trail of kisses up your inner thigh, his teeth nipping at your skin as he went.
 "I want you to be so desperate for release that you'll do anything I ask," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. “And only when you truly beg for me will I finally give you my cock” he chuckled against your cunt. 
"Please Lixie, need you in me, can't do this anymore" you whined, your chest heaving and tears began to stream out of your eyes. He had been edging you for so long, pulling away as soon as he felt you were close to your high. His fingers that were previously thrusting in you stopped completely, his soaked face only rising to laugh at your pathetic face.
"Oh sweetheart, you're so cute when you beg," he said, his voice low and hoarse. "But I don't think you've earned it yet."
"Please, I've been such a good girl for you Lixie, please let me cum, or at least fuck me" you whimpered "I'll do anything, anything you ask me, just please let me cum" you whined, tears falling out faster as your entire body shook from the multiple orgasms that were ripped away from you ever so easily under his grasp.
Felix's eyes darkened at your words, his body responding to your desperate pleas. He loved seeing you like this, so needy and pathetic, begging for him to give you what you so desperately needed. He knew he had complete control over you, and he loved every second of it. 
"Anything, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice low and rough. "You'll do anything I ask, no matter what?"
"Yes Lix, anything, just fuck me already!" you screamed.
He leaned down, his body pressing against yours as he spoke into your ear, his breath hot against your skin.
“Since you’ve been such a good girl, maybe I should give it to you” 
You simply nodded your head up and down as fast as you physically possible, showing you truly how eager you were for him. 
He laughed at how desperate you were for him, pulling down his boxers, allowing his extremely hard cock to slap his stomach, the tip red and angry already leaking pre-cum. 
It took all his might to not cum in his boxers at the taste of you. 
“Please Lixie, need your cock inside of me” you whined, spreading your legs open for him, allowing him to see how your hole pulsed at just the sight of him standing there, his hard cock slapped against his stomach. 
Felix's eyes darkened even more at your words, his breathing ragged with desire. He was losing control, his own need for you becoming almost too much to resist fucking you. 
He slowly bent down, positioning himself between your legs, his hands pinning your hips to the bed to keep you still. He looked down at you, his eyes dark and possessive.
With that, he pushed inside you, a guttural moan escaping his lips at the feeling of your hot tight cunt wrapping around his length.
You moaned underneath him, his body pressing against yours as you got used to his sheer size inside of you. 
He buried himself deep within you, filling you completely, his hands continuing to roam around your body. He needed to touch you, to make sure that his fantasy were real. 
He had spent nights jerking off to the thought of you begging for his cock, whimpering for him, and it took all his strength to cum right there and then at the sight of your eyes pressed together, your mouth hung open as he began to thrust inside of you. 
He began to move, his thrusts rough and desperate, his breathing ragged and shallow. He needed you, needed to possess you and claim you completely.
“Feels so good Lix”
You kept babbling at the feeling of him inside of you. The only thought on your mind was him. 
“Lix, Lix, Lix” you kept muttering, drool slowly escaping past your lips. 
"You're mine, sweetheart," he repeated, his voice low and rough in your ear. "No one else is ever going to make you feel this way again. Only me. You're mine."
“Only yours” you whimpered out. 
"That's right, sweetheart," he growled, his hips picking up speed. "You're mine and mine alone. No one else will ever touch you, have you, own you. Only me."
He slowly pulled his hand down to where you needed him most, playing with your clit as he continued his brutal pace inside of you. 
"That's right, sweetheart," he growled, his hips picking up speed. "You're mine and mine alone. No one else will ever touch you, have you, own you. Only me."
He buried his face in your neck, his teeth and tongue leaving marks and bites as he continued his relentless pace, his breathing ragged and uneven.
"I won't let anyone else have you," he whispered in your ear, his lips nipping at your skin. " I'll make sure of that. You're mine, forever. No one else will ever know you the way I do. No one else will ever be able to make you feel the way I can."
His hands roamed your body as he continued to claim you, his lips and teeth marking your skin, his hips never ceasing in their relentless pace.
Every time you called out his name, every whimper and moan that escaped your lips, only served to drive him deeper into his primal need for you.
He pulled back slightly, his eyes locking with yours. He wanted to see your face, to see the way you looked at him in this moment, completely lost in the pleasure and ecstasy he was giving you.
“Aren’t you a good girl for me?” he asked, slightly slapping your cheek to get a response
“Yes!” you screamed as he began to push your legs back, his cock pressing deeper inside of you, hitting your g-spot every time he rutted his hips inside of you. 
“Gonna cum” you moaned as he continued his brutal pace. 
“Yeah, baby? Gonna cum for me? Gonna cum all over my cock like a good girl?” he growled into your ear, chasing his own high. 
His hips continued to slam into you, his breathing ragged and wild. He couldn't get enough of you, couldn't get close enough. He needed you, needed to claim every part of you as his own.
Felix growled low in his throat as you screamed that you were close to cumming. The sound of your ecstasy only fueled his own need and desire for you. He wanted to bring you to the edge, to make you lose all control beneath him.
"Not yet," he growled in your ear. "You're not coming without me."
His lips moved back to your neck, kissing and biting their way down to your collarbone. His hips began to move faster, his breathing becoming more ragged as he continued to drive you towards the edge of ecstasy.
"You're so close, aren't you?" he whispered in your ear, his voice thick with desire. "I can feel it. I can feel how close you are for me. Your walls are clenching around me like a fucking vice, but you're not going to come yet, not until I say so." his pace is relentless and unceasing.
You continued to moan his name, like a fucking chant and he couldn't resist your desperate plea any longer. He could see how close you were to your release, how your body was tense and trembling beneath him. He loved seeing you so desperate for him.
"Come for me. Let go, sweetheart. Let me hear you cry out my name."
“Felix!” you screamed one last time before letting go.
He continued to move his hips through your climax, his body trembling and shaking with the effort. His pace became more irregular and erratic as he approached his own release. He could feel himself nearing the edge, could feel the pressure building within him.
"Sweetheart," he gasped, his voice thick with need and desire. "I'm...I'm going to come. I can't hold on much longer."
“Come inside, please come inside of me” you whined, your body becoming more and more overstimulated as he continued to rut into you. It was easy to reach your second orgasm, your walls clenching around his cock as Felix could feel his control slipping. His body was wracked with tremors and shivers as he neared his release. Your words only drove him closer to the edge, his body responding to your plea without hesitation.
"Yes," he gasped, his voice barely more than a guttural moan. 
His hips slammed into you with one final, rough thrust, his release crashing over him like a wave. He groaned your name, his arms wrapping around you tightly to keep you close as he lost himself in the ecstasy of his climax. He buried his face in your neck, his breath hot and ragged against your skin.
“So baby, how about some green tea?” he giggled, pulling your body into him. 
“Just wanna stay like this” you whined as he kissed the top of your head, covering the two of you with the blanket.
"You're mine," he whispered again, his voice thick with emotion. "All mine. No one else gets to have you, no one else gets to touch you, no one else gets to know you the way I do. You're mine, and I'm never letting you go."
453 notes · View notes
rpclefairy · 10 months
Text
𝐁𝐆𝟑 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.
a selection of lines from the various companions' banter quotes (not cut scene dialogues!) from baldur's gate 3. these are generally spoiler free and non context specific so they can apply to different settings and dynamics! feel free to change names and the like to customize the prompts.
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“Death can't have me. Not yet…”
“Calm yourself. There is plenty of me to go around.”
“Realmspace is vast. Countless worlds to be mapped, kingdoms to be conquered.”
“I have missed this. The adventure. The danger. The kicking of butts!
“Let me guess - you need something.”
“Such attention.. I never realised I was so popular.”
“Let's cook with fire, baby.”
“Do you intend to vocalise every thought?. Or just the most obvious ones?”
“Wherever we go, ye gods let there be something green.”
“Careful, or I will take your toy away from you.”
“Watch your elders and learn.”
“Perhaps try attacking the enemy?”
“So much we don't know, lingering in the furthest reaches of existence.”
“All the world's my stage and you're just a player in it.”
“The shadows are my friend.”
“Yes, yes, have your fun. It isn't you they're trying to kill.”
“Feet planted firmly on Faerûn, please.”
“Admirable stamina, yet terrible priorities.”
“Well you certainly have the 'omnipresent' part down, don't you?”
“I am ready, whatever may come.”
“My faith protects me.”
“Need a throat slitting?”
“Death greets us all - but not today.”
“You need my expertise?”
“Can you feel death's cold grip?”
“So many stars, so many mysteries yet to be discovered.”
“Death comes quietly.”
“And I thought we were going to be friends.”
“Locked tight, but there must be some way to open it.”
“No, you can't die. Get up, damn you!
“You had my attention, now you have my fury.”
“From silence to suffering.”
“So many worlds out there. You'd need a thousand lifetimes to see them all - more.”
“I hope this is important. For your sake.”
“Let them gaze deep into their own abyss, and wonder just what it is they are trying to achieve.”
“I ought to just burn this whole thing down.”
“We have slightly more pressing matters to attend to.”
“You have still have time to surrender.”
“Every kicked buttock, another step on the path.”
“Weave save me. I can't take much more…
“You are right to fear me.”
“Let me look around. Might be something that'll help me crack this thing.”
“Incredible, to think how many worlds exist beyond this tiny speck within a speck I call home.”
“I really wish I could cast a Hold spell on you.”
“I can fawn over my face later.”
“Ready for another round?”
“Keep your blade close.”
“I can't unlock it from here, but there must be a switch or a button somewhere…”
“No, that's not moving. There must be a way to open it somewhere.”
“Battle favours the fearless.”
“Sleep with one eye open, evil. Maybe both.”
“Gotta be something around here to unlock this thing.”
“Why do beautiful people taste better?. It hardly seems fair on the ugly - they have such wonderful personalities.”
“Oh, calm down. I'm happy to see you too.”
“Just go for the Magic Missile and fire away. Never fails.”
“Still standing, no matter what you heard.”
“Enough waiting. I crave blood.”
“Hang on - I won't allow this. You aren't dead, go it?”
“GODS, it's HOT in here!”
“No rest for the wicked, I see.”
“Better to hide than fight, sometimes.”
“Would that I could hide from you, too.”
“Are you feeling lonely, perhaps?”
“There is no right or wrong, only truth.”
“Battle is afoot - you can poke me once we are safe.”
“What good all this ethereal eladrin blood if I can still get pimples?”
“I should've been a drow. They have such stylish armour.”
“I am armed! Armoured! And entirely sick of your foolishness.”
“Let's have some fun.”
“War is an old woman's game.”
“No rest, be you wicked or wise.”
“I'm getting too old for this nonsense.”
“I would poke you back, but I fear that's what you want.”
“You have my attention - now do something with it.”
“You are insistent, are you not?”
“Do what must be done.”
“Your suffering will be spectacular.”
“Lest I sit down for a rest and not rise again.”
“Better to look evil in the eye. Even if it be very small.”
“I'm not built to crouch.”
“I think I could go another round.”
“Always the same old song.”
“Is perfection too much to ask?”
“Eyes on victory, tummy on dinner.”
“So many places to be.. and I chose Baldur's Gate.”
“I'm not opening that. Not from here, at any rate.”
“What is the point, if not victory?”
“Won't last much longer like this.”
“Let's hope the locals are friendly.”
“Let us show them how it's done.”
“Weapons high. Standards higher.”
“Must everyone be so exhausting?”
“What I would not give for a chunk of fresh honeycomb…”
“Which way to the nearest library?”
“Now this is my happy place.”
“Who shall I silence?”
“Stop, or die.”
“Wear your scars proudly.”
1K notes · View notes
totalswag · 5 months
Text
tell me if you like it — RAFE CAMERON
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authors note HIGHLY recommend you listen to me & you by cassie remix because it gives me total rafe vibes. i'm so close to 800 lovies, i adore you all. i switched my style with line dividers and i'm probably gonna stick with it for now on.
summary you've had your eyes on rafe cameron for sometime now and everyone knows your attraction towards him. you attend one of his parties one friday night with your girlfriends and make your official move on the kook king.
warnings drinking, smoking, alcohol, drugs, partying, kissing/making out, mentions of sex,
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Rafe Cameron sent out a text about throwing a party at his place while Ward and Rose are out of town for the weekend. The minute word got out people were talking about the party.
You knew the instant after receiving the text that tonight would be the night you made your official move on Rafe Cameron. Everyone, including Cameron, knows you've had your eye on him for a while.
Rafe is waiting for you to make your final move, according to Topper and Kelce. To you, he appears to be playing a game, a waiting game. So you've been playing the game he prefers.
You’ve always wondered why Rafe himself hasn’t made his move on you yet. The thought runs through your mind occasionally.
The party was full when you arrived. People were drunk, smoking weed, doing other drugs, dancing, and who knows what else.
You came in with your head held high, scanning the crowd for your friend group, but first you needed a drink.
You walked into the kitchen, which was stocked with various types of alcohol. You are craving seltzer, so you grabbed a truly from the fridge. You went on a search for your friends after closing the frigid.
Your name was called from the corner of the house by the girls. When you saw them wave you over, you turned in their direction. When they saw you approaching, their mouths dropped open.
"I must say Y/N, you look so hot!" Ella, one of your best friends, says she's hyping you up by gazing at you up and down.
"If Rafe doesn't get you tonight, he's definitely going to miss out," Melina says, resting against the wall.
The other girls agreed with Melina and Ella's comments.
"You two are really kind. Plus, y'all look so good I might melt" you compliment them back.
"I'll be making my final move on him; I just need to find him first," you say with a nice smile, gazing over your shoulder for Cameron boy.
"Dude we saw him earlier walking out back to smoke a blunt with Kelce but haven't seen him since" Ella informs you.
Thirty minutes go by, you four are dancing together to the beat of the music. Laughing and drinking together while listening to music that keeps you dancing.
For the past five minutes you can feel eyes on you the entire time you’ve been dancing with the girls. You lift your head up slowly, Rafe is standing with a group of his friends.
You’ve been waiting so long, I’m here to answer your call.
I know that I shouldn’t have had you waiting at all.
You two lock eyes. No one is breaking it.
He's dressed in a white tee, black cargo pants, a gold chain around his neck, and a snapback. Oh, that gold chain.
As you continue to dance to the beat of the song, tension builds in your body. Knowing Rafe is watching gives you excitement. You look over your shoulder, he's looking at you amongst the crowd of people.
You tell the girls as you pull away you are gonna have a little chat with Rafe for a moment but knowing that will be a for a while.
When Rafe sees you getting closer, he feels his body tense up. More so with excitement.
“Hey Rafe,” you smiled nicely, giving him a hug, running your hand down his arm.
He wraps his arm around you, “hey Y/N” Rafe says, looking down at you softly, “How are you enjoying the party?” He asks before taking a sip of his drink in his free hand.
“Yeah, I am. My friends and I have been having a great time” You say, trying to play it off you are about to make your final move.
Throughout the conversation, you keep eye contact, something you've always done with people. Conversation was casual yet with a hint of flirtatious moments.
Rafe's body communicates that he is attempting to maintain his calm. You tilt your head slightly, a smile spreading across your face.
"If you girls need anything I'll be around the house," he lets you know, moving his hand in a circling motion.
Your thinking tells you to say something that will catch him off guard.
Slowly nodding, stepping on your tiptoes, placing your free hand around Rafe's neck and dragging him to your height, "What if I need something from you?" Your voice sounded enticing, as you pull away.
Your gaze lands on the gold chain. Playing with it, twisting it with your index finger. 
Rafe's lip slides against his bottom lip, forming into a smirk. He knows what you are doing to him. He likes it.
I know I shouldn't have you waiting at all.
I've been so busy, but I've been thinking about you.
What I wanna do to you.
"Oh really, what would that be? enlighten me,"
Oh he's really good you think to yourself.
"I think you know what I mean, Rafe."
"I don't think I do, Y/N," mocking your tone.
In your mind, you want to go and see what he does, or you want to stay by his side for the rest of the night and sleep in his sheets. It can go either way, but you'll most likely be in his sheets, or not.
You finally inform Rafe that you'll be getting back to your girlfriends, who are waiting for you someplace in the home. The look on his face indicated that he did not want you to leave him.
He leans nearer and places his hand on your wrist, "No, don't leave right now. Can I give you a tour of the the house?" He suggested.
You give him a questionable look as if you were debating it.
"Vip access for special people,"
Jack pot.
"I would love that."
The rest of the night, you stayed at Rafe's side. You had him hooked around your finger and it only took you a few words out your mouth. The expressions on your girls' faces were wonderful; they were secretly cheering you on across the room. Of course, they kept a close eye on you while enjoying themselves.
When Rafe took you around the house, he made sure you had the best tour of your life. You could not believe how large the house was. He showed you his room last, which was maintained clean and tidy. His tv is on the wall below his dresser. The smell of cologne flooded your lungs and smelled pleasant.
After, you two took a few shots, smoked a joint, played drinking games, danced, and made out.
You now have your back against Rafe's chest, and his hand is around your waist, holding you close. You'll occasionally move your hips to the side to the beat of the song, causing him to pull you closer.
Everyone has taken to the dance floor in the huge living room. You both circle all of Rafe's buddies. You've met them many times before. Your girlfriends were a few feet away.
Rafe's hand was gliding itself up and down your waist then your ass giving it a couple squeezes.
You turn around and place both hands on his lower the abdomen. You looked at each other with lust and desperation. You examine his lips first, contemplating whether you should kiss him first. You do. 
Lips moved in sync. Tongues fighting for dominance. The feeling felt electric. Your body was craving him more and more.
"I think it's time I gave me another good tour, but this time in my bedroom," he breathlessly mumble in your ear, eager.
You groan from his words, nodding.
The way he spoke those words to you made you feel like you were on cloud nine. Excitement in your lower stomach started jumping.
Before you head upstairs, Rafe wraps his arm around Topper's shoulder, whispers in his ear, "Make sure you get these people out of here in an hour, then you can either stay here or go home." Topper nods and pats his shoulder.
You couldn't take your hands off each other on the way up to his bedroom; laughing, touching, and kissing. 
"You look so beautiful tonight, couldn't take my eyes off you," he says as he lays you on his soft sheets, runs his hands down your sides, and admires your physique.
The words coming out Rafe's mouth made your cheeks grow red. You watch Rafe's eyes scan your body before he grabs the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your body.
You feel yourself grow impatient, Rafe senses it, he smirks.
"Don't worry, angel, we're just getting started," he said, dropping his head, kissing your stomach, and moving closer to your underwear line.
Your hands slide through his hair, gently pulling, eliciting a gasp from Rafe's lips. You smirk at yourself.
Pulls your skirt down and throws your underwear across the room before bringing itching closer to your core. Chills run down your spine, and you breathe heavily as Rafe's breath fans on your bare core.
The sexual tension grows stronger. Rest of your night consisted of the both of your moans filling the bedroom.
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hairmetal666 · 1 year
Text
Eddie Munson gets famous at fifteen, after a YouTube video goes viral.
He's the kind of famous where he can't leave his house without being mobbed; where his name is plastered across grocery store tabloids and every fifth Pop Crave post; who has to make special arrangements with stores, whose body guards have body guards, who's forgotten what it's like to be normal. He's the kind of famous with well-chronicled stints in and out of rehab
And he thinks, at thirty, why not do a reality show? Why not let everyone in the world into his life because they're there anyway?
There's this guy on the crew, beautiful as a fucking sunrise. He's all golden-tanned and chestnut-haired, with these big hazel eyes that makes Eddie stomach swoop deliciously whenever they happen to meet his.
His name is Steve.
And Eddie, well. He's learned his lesson about jumping into relationships. So, Steve is nice to look at, and that's all there is to it.
---
They're at the studio, and Eddie, he only smokes when he's recording but he's "not allowed" to do that inside. So, he steps out into the alley behind the building, eyes falling shut as he hands search his pockets for his pack of Camels and his Zippo.
"I didn't realize you smoked," a deep voice says from the darkness.
Eddie startles, eyes flying open. Steve is leaning against the brick of the building, cigarette perched between his pursed lips.
"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. I'm Steve. With the crew."
"Eddie," he answers by instinct.
"I know," Steve chuckles. His hazel eyes are golden in the yellow streetlight.
"Oh, right." He lights his cigarette and inhales deep.
"I really like what you're doing in there." Steve nods his head towards the studio.
"You a fan?"
"Never listened to you much before. Not really a metal kinda guy, but I like it."
People aren't usually honest with Eddie. It's refreshing.
"Glad you're getting into it! How's your--uh, job going?"
Steve laughs. "First assistant camera, that's my job." Eddie's expression must read a total blank, but Steve only smiles. "I make sure everything's in focus while we film"
"Is that--hard?"
"Sometimes," Steve agrees. "How do you like being the star of a reality show?"
Eddie huffs out a breath. "It's more fun than I expected. Like, sure it's weird to have you guys follow me around, but at least I invited you, you know?"
Steve's dark eyes are fathomless in his perfect face. "You'll let me know? If anything happens that you don't like?"
Eddie nods, taken aback by the serious line of Steve's pretty mouth. Before he can respond more, the back door creaks open, Gareth's backlit shape leaning into the alley. "Eddie? They're ready for you."
"Duty calls." He smiles at Steve as he stomps out his cigarette. "See you around."
---
Eddie goes to a house party in the hills. It's just a handful of people, all of them he's known for years, no cameras in sight.
Someone asks how things are going with the band. Eddie doesn't think anything of it. Why should he, among friends? Why should he when they already know the resentment that Gareth, Jeff, and Freak have for him? Eddie got signed and not his band. The guys--they never really forgave him, think he could have tried harder.
So, he says--he says--"I wish they didn't resent me so goddamn much still. To this day! They're millionaires and they're pissed at me? Fuck that. I got them here. I got us all here."
They're filming the next day at Eddie's house. He's working on a new song, engrossed in his acoustic and his notebook.
He's so in the zone, it takes him a second to register when Gareth bursts into the house.
"Fuck you, Munson," Gareth screams. "What the fuck is this shit?" Eddie's own voice pours from Gareth's phone, and Eddie's stunned speechless for dozens of seconds as he tries to comprehend what's happening.
"I didn't--" he tires. He raises his hands placatingly, but his minds a whirlwind, thoughts a tangle, heart a mess of betrayal and hurt and fear.
"We should be fucking grateful?" Gareth yells. "You spoiled piece of shit, fuck you!" He lunges towards Eddie, but Steve darts from behind the camera, moving to block Gareth's path.
"Stop filming," Eddie shouts. He lifts his arms to block the shit. "Get out," he snaps at the crew. " Now!"
He and Gareth scuffle towards a set of double-doors, heated words low and unintelligible.
"Don't come in." He tells the crew. "Steve, I mean it. Tell them to stop."
Eddie shoves Gareth into the other room, slamming the door behind him. Still, the mics pick up the screaming fight between the two men.
Hours later, Eddie finally makes his way back to the main part of the house, finds Steve standing at the kitchen island.
"Why are you still here?" He's too exhausted from the fight to put any inflection into it.
"I was wo--I wanted to make sure everything was okay," Steve says. He relaxes against the island. "Are yo--is everything okay?"
Eddie's laugh is humorless. "Something like that."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
The tears he kept at bay with Gareth prick at his eyelids until they burn. "Not really, no."
Steve nods. "We could--you wanna watch a movie?"
This startles a laugh out of Eddie, one that has tears flooding his eyes and he has to blink fast, look down, anything so Steve doesn't notice.
"You know what I want?" he says. It's soft enough that maybe Steve, across the kitchen, wouldn't hear.
"What?"
"To have friends who won't sell me out for a couple thousand bucks." The tears start falling, his throat choked with emotion.
He wants to stop, embarrassed to be crying in front of Steve, but now that he's started, sobs shake his shoulders and he can't keep quiet.
Steve reaches for him. "Is this okay?" he whispers, hands rubbing circles against his back.
Eddie nods, cries for a while as Steve makes soothing motions against his back.
"I just wish I was normal," he mumbles when he has words again.
Steve's hold on him tightens. "I'm sorry, Eddie."
Shame hits him then, too hard to ignore, and he steps away. "I'm gonna--I'm gonna go. I--Thanks again."
He ignores the sound of Steve calling him back.
---
Eddie's playing a show. He's playing a show in a small club, something he hasn't been able to do for years, but he's doing it right now. It's electric, vibrating through his body, the crowd screaming along with every word.
So much of this is because of Steve, and Eddie can't think about it, because men like Steve aren't for guys like Eddie.
As he plays, his eyes scan the small crowd, find Steve easily. He's gazing at Eddie, lips slicked pink and parted, eyes shining. Eddie knows this look; the naked desire obvious. A heat he never lets himself feel for Steve blooms low in his abdomen, but--
He wails into his mic, forcing his thoughts away from that path. He has a show to play, one that's pumping his veins full of satisfied adrenaline. Nothing can ruin it.
When the show ends, Eddie is high, endorphins and adrenaline pounding through his bloodstream.
Eddie, the band, and the film crew make their way out the club's backdoor. There's a car idling close by, but they only get a few steps in before there's shouting; the ear-shattering click of dozens of camera shutters; overwhelming burst of flashes.
Eddie is disoriented, dizzy; the rapid shift from the best night he's had in years, to this, mobbed by paparazzi, people screaming his name, crowding their small group. He stumbles, black spots still obstructing his vision.
Arms catch around him, holding him steady. "You okay?" Steve asks.
Before he can answer, one of the paps yells, "Munson's wasted! Can't even walk!"
"C'mon, Ed, I've got you," Steve says.
"Just get into the booze, Munson, or someone had Molly too? Maybe a little coke? That used to be your thing, right? Snort a little blow and do a show?"
Eddie tenses, almost stops, but Steve keeps him going.
The crowd surges around them, more voices yelling, more flashbulbs popping, the guy saying, "He can't even stand without help! You got a real problem you know?"and he just--can't anymore. He whirls out of Steve's grasp, lunges for the guy.
"What's your fucking problem, man?" Eddie hisses. "What did I do to you, huh?"
"Real tough, Munson, huh?" The man sneers. He shoves Eddie hard, knocking him back a few steps.
Eddie's vision fuzzes out, brain buzzing. He snarls, knows he does, knows he's losing it, can't make it stop.
Strong arms wrap around his waist, pull him off his feet. He fights it until he's pressed into a wall, until cold hands cup his face.
"Baby, baby, you have to calm down," Steve murmurs. "You have to breathe, can you do that for me?"
"I want--he can't--I--"
Steve presses harder against him, bodies joined. "You're having a panic attack, yeah? Can you breathe with me, baby? Match me?"
Eddie nods, tries, wants to be good for Steve.
He calms, as much from the breathing exercise as being held by the most beautiful man he's ever seen. Pressing his face against Steve's neck he says, "why are you always around for my worst moments? I'm such a fucking mess."
"I don't think you're a mess," he says. "I think you've gotten hurt, you've gotten cornered. And your reactions are normal."
"Why do you even care?" Eddie asks.
Steve doesn't even pause. "Cause I like you, Eddie." His hold tightens for a second. "I like you a lot."
Eddie scoffs. "Yeah, you like Eddie Munson, the hot rockstar. Not the loser who cries in your arms"
Cold air hits Eddie as Steve steps away to meet Eddie's eyes. You want to know something? I didn't expect to like you at all. I admit, I bought into all the stories on the internet. But you were never anything like that, Ed. Not even once."
Steve takes a deep breath, turning away as his cheeks grow pink. "And you--you're always going out of your way for people. The day I knew I was gone for you? Three weeks into filming. There was this kid interning. You didn't know a thing about him, just some twenty-year-old, and you sat down and talked to him. Were genuinely interested in everything he said."
"Steve," Eddie's voice breaks. He has to cover his mouth, lips a wobbling mess.
"I want to give you normal, Eddie, as much as I can. If you'll let me."
The moisture tumbles free from his eyes, streaking down his cheeks. Eddie laughs. "God, Steve, you're--I like you, too."
Steve brushes the tears away. "So, you'd go on a date with me?"
"I think I would really like to go on a date with you, yeah."
Steve leans in, slow and gentle, placing a soft kiss at the corner of Eddie's mouth. It lights him up like a fresh struck match, nerve endings on fire. He thinks it's so much more than like already.
"Take me home, sweetheart," he says.
"Getting fresh with me, Munson," Steve smirks. "I won't have you using your rockstar wiles to seduce me."
Eddie's laugh echoes off the brick of the surrounding buildings. "Oh, sweetheart, my rockstar ways will destroy you."
"That a promise?"
---
Six months later, the first and only season of Welcome to Hell premieres. Instead, of chronicling a rockstar's debauched and wild lifestyle, it's a soft and charming love story. It shows Steve and Eddie growing closer, Steve working late into the night, to give Eddie the hint of normalcy he's so desperate for, to make him happy. It shows Eddie's eyes track Steve across a room, something like sadness crossing his face. It shows a concert that Steve arranged, the fight with the pap outside the venue, brief glimpses of Steve and Eddie in the aftermath, the gentle kiss.
In the last interview of the season, the producer asks Eddie if there will be a season two of Welcome to Hell.
Eddie smiles, glances off camera, which pans to find Steve in worn jeans and a Metallica hoodie, hair messy and wearing glasses. He gazes at Eddie, smiles this soft, aching thing.
"Nah, I don't think I need it anymore," Eddie answers. Throwing the camera a smile that matches Steve's.
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fluffykiddosstuff · 1 year
Text
stanford and stanley pines fighting for you (headcanons)
i just played swooning over stans and...help i'm so obsessed with these two now..here is littles headcanons for them when they are both in love with you :-)
warnings : swearing (thank you stanley), gn!reader, using they/them pronouns, mention of child abuse
context : the kids are gone, the grunkles are on adventures, so to their surprise when they came back for a month, they saw you in the living room (stanley almost hit you with a stick if ford and soos didn't got him), soos explain to them that you got banished from your home and came to the shack late at night under the rain. Pitty hitting them since they know damn well what a lonely life is, they let you stay and life goes on..well not as they expected...
stanley pines :
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at first he tries to deny what he feels, you are friends, right ?
if you laugh at his jokes, swear with him against things he dislikes (tv-shows, young people ect..), and that you help him annoy poeple by stealing and other things ? My man is head over heals
you can see he start to grow fond of you when he wants to protect you even more than before, especially since he knows what is gravity falls made of
when you where gone for shopping with soos, he decided it was time to annonce it to his dear twin brother
he would talk about it while watching a romance movie with ford (even tho he said he didn't wanted to watch)
"you know, i start to kinda like them..but like like them you see.."
the pills doesn't pass well when ford says he likes you too
stan is definitely the most childish one
"let's make a bet sixer ! the first to got a date with them wins !"
he likes to come in while ford tries to show you something or even tries to speak to you
he even broke down ford's clock so he would be late to your weekly monster's chase
he still as limits of course, ford is his twin brother after all, and it's only little jokes that doesn't harm anyone right ?
will definitly show off with his boxing skills or by putting a nice suit (for exemple the one in the gif) while you all go out together for a party or something, will try to do sport everyday but heh, he is a little bit too old to do those things daily..
gives you his jacket when you are outside with him, even if you aren't cold, when he sees ford's face when he smells his cologne on you while you both work on something, i'ts worth it
gives you flowers and little gifts, puts them on your bed for you to find when you come back
verbally says what he thinks about you, while ford can't even say two lines in a phrase when all he wanted to say is that your outfit was pretty
stanford pines :
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he mainly start to realise he likes you when you helped him with his reasearches for a creature, he is amazed by how much you are interested in his work and doesn't hesitate to take you as an assistant and answer all of your questions
man did he regret telling stan's about his feelins for you, now his life is a living hell (sometimes he thinks about going back in the other dimension by how stan can be extremely annoying, really)
you only get free time with him when you are both in the forest to hunt monsters, you talk for hours about many toppics
smarter than stan, he tries to make you more open around him, asking you about personnal stuff and trying to comfort you when things gets too hard for you to tell, he even experienced to make hugs (bc my dude is awkard) and he purposelly hugs you in front of stan while you are crying about something related from your abusive parents, bonus point if you say : "oh ford..what would i do without you..", he would look at his twin, sticking out his tongue in a proud grin, revenge is a plate you eat cold they said
when you are all watching a show on the t-v and that it's his turn to choose the movie, even if he is dying to watch a documentary, he puts an horror movie and sits next to you, watching you take his hand as a loud noises his heard or hugs you if you are too scared
when you both work and you pass out on a table, he first puts his long jacket on you, and if it gets too late, he takes you in his arms to put you in your bed, all while him and stan are having a "who is gonna look the more angry at eachother" contest
when stan swears , he likes to take him back, especially if you don't like that either (or if it's not the right moment or the right place to do those) of course it doesn't stop him for saying : "for fuck's sake" or "fucking little nerd" while you laugh with ford
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firewasabeast · 4 days
Note
Hey CJ! Idk if you take prompts (I loved your most recent ficlet)
BUT any thoughts on how Buck and Tommy annoy each other (on purpose)??
ahhh thank you so much! I'm always taking prompts, it just sometimes takes me a while to get to them. here's a two-in-one fic for you!
Click. Click. Click. Click. Click click.
Click. Click. Click. Click. Click click.
Tommy looked over across the couch, where Buck was staring down at a crossword as he clicked his pen. Over and over.
“Do you need a new pen?” Tommy asked, keeping his tone calm and casual.
“Huh?” It took a second for Buck to register what he'd asked. “Oh, no. No, I'm good, thanks,” he said, glancing over at him with a smile.
Tommy returned the smile, then went back to reading his magazine.
Click click click clickclick click click.
Tommy took a long, deep breath.
Click click click click click click click click click.
“You sure?” He asked again, his voice going up an octave. “I have a whole drawer of them.”
And they're the kind with caps, he added to himself.
Buck shook his head. “Nope, this one works just fine.”
Click click click click click click. Click. Click. Click.
Click click click click clickclick-
Tommy closed the magazine and squeezed his eyes shut. “For the love of God, Evan, please stop.”
“Ha! So it does bother you!” Buck exclaimed, pointing the pen to Tommy with a triumphant look on his face.
“Does the endless pen clicking bother me? Yeah, maybe a little.”
Buck shook his head, relaxing further into the couch. “Finally.”
“Finally what?”
“I finally found something that makes Mr. Cool lose his cool.”
Tommy huffed out a laugh. “I did not lose my cool, thank you very much.”
“You looked like a pressure cooker that was about to explode.”
“So you were doing all of that just to annoy me?” Tommy asked, a playful glare on his face.
“After about the third click, yes.”
“And if I didn't stop you, you were what? Gonna click the entirety of We Will Rock You?”
Buck tilted his head, looking more impressed than anything now. “Y- You knew the song?”
“Of course I knew the song. Who wouldn't know that song?”
“I just didn't realize I was so talented. I could quit my job, begin a professional career as a click artist.”
Tommy opened his magazine back up, crossing one leg over the other. “I'd stick with firefighting if I were you.”
They were just settling back into a peaceful silence when:
Click click.
“Okay.” Tommy reached across the couch and pulled the pen out of Buck's hand before getting up and heading for the trash.
“Wait! No!” Buck exclaimed. “I just had to finish the line in the song. I was done.”
Tommy raised the lid to the garbage can and dropped the pen in it. “You can get another pen out of the drawer beside you. One with a cap,” he added quickly, “not a clicker.”
“You're no fun,” Buck teased, opening the drawer and grabbing another pen. “Oh, I see some clickers in here, Babe. I could do a rendition of Come Sail Away for you!”
Tommy walked back over to Buck, standing right in front of him on the couch. “I love you, Evan, but if you so much as touch another click pen I will leave.”
Buck snorted out a laugh, staring up at his boyfriend. “This is your house, Tommy!”
“I'll sign it over to you.”
Buck reached up and tugged on Tommy's shirt until he was hovering over him, one hand on the armrest and the other on the back of the couch. “Has anyone ever told you you're dramatic?” Buck asked, pulling Tommy in for a kiss.
“My drama teacher, third grade,” he replied with a nod. “Mrs. Collier.”
Buck gave Tommy one more kiss before letting him go. “I'll have to send her a note, tell her she was right.”
“Well, she was about seventy when I was in her class,” Tommy informed him, sitting back down in his seat, “so you'll have to search her address on Find a Grave.”
He resumed his magazine reading as Buck got back into his crossword...
Until about two minutes later, when Buck began drumming the new pen on his thigh. This time, he was seemingly completely unaware of what he was doing.
Tommy headed to bed early that night.
**********
The first time it happened, Buck was surprised, but he didn't say anything about it.
The second time, he laughed a bit, and when Tommy asked what was so funny he just shrugged and said he'd never seen anyone do that before.
The third time, he thought he might die.
“Did you, um, did you use a fork to scoop out the butter?” he asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as humanly possible.
Tommy breezed by, grabbing a drink out of the fridge on his way to the garage for a work out. “Yeah. Had toast this morning.” He gave Buck a pat on the ass before heading out the door.
Buck immediately pulled a knife out of a drawer and smoothed out the butter.
It shouldn't have been a big deal. Realistically, Buck knew that.
But there was something so jarring about opening a container of butter only to see that it was littered with stab wounds.
It felt wrong.
It felt like a crime.
The fourth time it happened, it was the day after he and Tommy had gotten into an argument. Nothing too serious, and they had made up by the time they went to bed.
But Tommy had made himself dinner that night and he'd decided on scrambled eggs.
Which meant he'd first put butter in the pan so the eggs wouldn't stick.
Buck didn't want to another fight right now, so he kept quiet and fixed the butter once again, then went about his day.
The fifth time it happened, Buck was ready to throw every fork in the house away. He could no longer remain silent on such a serious issue. It needed to be discussed, and it needed to be discussed now.
There was no better time, as Tommy was opening their mail at the dining room table while Buck started on dinner.
“Uh, Tommy?”
“Yeah, Babe?”
“We, um, I- I need to talk to you.”
Tommy looked up from the mail and over to where Buck stood in the kitchen. “Uh oh,” he said when he saw the look on Buck face. “You sound serious.”
“Yeah, I- it. It's the butter, Tommy. I- Most people use a knife when they're getting butter, but you're using a fork, and it makes the butter look all stabby and I've just been fixing it myself every time I see it, but I really don't understand why you can't use a knife, or even a spoon, ya know?” He was rambling, but once he started he couldn't seem to stop. “It looks so much better if you use a knife because then it keeps that smooth, buttery texture instead of looking like its been to war and-” he stopped when he noticed that Tommy was smiling at him. “What?” he asked.
“I knew you'd break eventually.”
“Wh- What do you mean?”
Tommy picked up a pen from the table, holding his arm out straight in front of him.
Click. Click. Click. Click. Click click.
When it hit him, Buck gasped, his eyes widening. “That was months ago!” he exclaimed. “We weren't even living together then!”
“And yet I've never forgotten,” Tommy replied, feeling a sense of vindication.
“You're diabolical.” He held the tub of butter out toward Tommy. “This could be considered a form of torture, you know?”
Tommy stood and walked over to Buck. “What would they call it? Butter-forking?” he asked, taking the tub from Buck and getting a knife from the drawer. He began smoothing the butter out himself, until it looked perfect on top. “Better?” he asked, showing Buck his work.
Buck turned his head to the side dramatically, staring out the kitchen window. “I don't know if we'll get past this.”
Tommy put the butter down, moving closer to Buck and placing his hands on his waist. “Could we try?” he asked. “I'd hate to tell the caterers we had to cancel the wedding on a count of me forking butter. Especially since it sounds shockingly close to doing something else with butter.”
Buck shuddered when he realized what Tommy meant. He looked up at him through his eyelashes. “Will you never destroy the sanctity of our butter with your fork ever again?”
“I will try my best,” Tommy promised. “As long as you continue to stay away from clickable pens.”
Buck sighed. “There goes the last chances of my career as a musical clicker,” he said with a pout, wrapping his arms around Tommy's shoulders.
“And there goes my career as a professional butter stabber,” Tommy replied, his hands tightening on Buck's waist as he got rid of his pout with a kiss.
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pomefioredove · 2 months
Note
ace with, "I like my bed, but I'd rather be in yours." 😚🤌
HELP ME he's so cringe he'd 100% say something like this
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summary: "I like my bed, but I'd rather be in yours" type of post: short fic characters: ace additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, secondhand embarrassment warning, random halloween(??) party for plot reasons, not proofread
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Heartslabyul has never turned a guest away from a party.
Ace had become accustomed to it. There's always someone out of place at the table- the purple of a Pomefiore uniform or the green of a Diasomnia, pointed ears or catlike ones, tall, short, students Ace hadn't even seen passing in the halls.
And having a costume unbirthday didn't make recognizing anyone any easier. Why did they agree on this, again?
"What's this one?" he asks, accepting a tart dish from Trey.
The stressed upperclassmen adjusts his glasses. "Raspberry, I think- no, strawberry. I'm losing track,"
"Yeesh," Ace mutters, looking out the window to the grounds. There's more than three times the dorm out there.
"Mondays, amirite?"
Trey just sighs.
Ace carries the dish to one of the many tables set about the gardens.
This one is empty. He looks over his shoulder; Riddle is busy berating another first year for chewing with his mouth open. No one has noticed the fresh tart yet.
He might as well sneak a slice while he still can...
"Ace!"
Sevens. Ace flinches and the slice of tart slips right out of his grip.
Now he's going to have to clean that up, and without anyone noticing, too. Sigh.
"I know it's Halloween, but you shouldn't scare people like that," he says, turning to the source of the noise. "You-"
As soon as he sees you, his thoughts are cut short.
You're just some rando in a corny masquerade getup, but, damn, you're cute.
No way he's never seen you before- no, you've gotta be from another class. He'll have to pester Jack about it later...
"Oh, sorry," you say. The mask you're wearing makes it hard to read your expression, but he assumes you noticed the tart.
Your voice is vaguely familiar, but it's hard to hear with all the background noise, anyway.
Ace puts on his worst best smile. "Nah, it's fine. The vice housewarden is on full-time catering duty. No one will notice. So, you come here often?"
You snort. "Yeah, I guess I do. What's up with you?"
He got a laugh out of you. That's a good sign, right?
Now, time to go in for the kill.
Ace huffs, trying to act nonchalant. "What's up with me? Nothing much, just thinking about how I like my bed, but I'd rather be in yours,"
A long, terrible silence follows.
And then you laugh. And laugh, and laugh. Ace grimaces. It's hard to tell if it's a good laugh or a bad one from your voice alone.
"Hey, what're you two 'doin?" a much smaller voice asks.
Grim is standing between the two of you now, paws on his hips, mouth half-full of cookies from the other table.
"Buzz off, Grim. Can't you see I'm busy?" Ace murmurs.
Then, much to his horror, the mystery student across from him takes off their mask and scoops Grim up like a baby.
He could die right then and there.
"YOU?!"
"Me," you say.
Grim doesn't seem particularly interested in the context, though he is smirking at the dumb look on Ace's face.
"But you- you're-" he stammers, his face almost as red as his hair. "I didn't even- recognize you! How-"
It's hard to get such a reaction out of him, the "lady killer" he is, and he swears he can see a little smugness in your expression.
Ace groans. "You can be a real jerk sometimes, you know,"
You wipe your eyes, sighing merrily. "No, no, don't stop! I want to hear another! Do you want me to put the mask back on?"
"A real jerk!" he repeats, fleeing the scene before he can say something even dumber.
At least Trey will be happy to have another set of hands in the kitchen...
So much for romance. He huffs and takes a tart out of the oven.
Note to self: pick a better line to ask you out with.
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