#i have what i call the new relationship anxieties

[tanjamikaelson]

BEST FRIEND'S BROTHER - CHAPTER 6

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 6: | I NEED YOU |

You lay on your bed, the soft light of late afternoon filtering through your curtains. The events of the party the night before were still fresh in your mind, and you felt restless, needing to talk to someone. So, you reached for your phone and called Sarah. It took a few rings before she answered, her voice a little breathless, as if she’d been rushing around.

“Hey, did you leave the party earlier yesterday?” you asked, your voice tentative. You’d been wondering why she seemed to disappear without a word, and your curiosity was gnawing at you.

“Yeah, I did,” Sarah replied, her tone calm, but you could sense an underlying tension there. “I went to see John B.”

You paused, the name hanging in the air between you. “Did you break up with Topper?” you asked, the question slipping out before you could think twice about it. You knew things had been complicated for her lately, and part of you hoped she’d finally made a decision.

“No, but he was so annoying at the party,” Sarah said, a note of exasperation in her voice. You could almost see her rolling her eyes on the other end of the line, the frustration clear. “He kept hovering, acting like I was going to run off with someone any second.”

“So he’s suspicious,” you stated, already piecing together the situation in your mind.

“Yeah, and then he followed me and saw me with John B.” There was a pause, and then she added, her voice laced with anger and disbelief, “He called me a whore.”

“What?!” The word shot out of you, disbelief and fury mixing in your tone. Topper had always been possessive, but this was a new low. You sat up, your heart pounding with a mix of anger and concern for your best friend.

“Yeah, first I’m a prude and now I’m a whore,” Sarah said bitterly. You could hear the pain she was trying to hide behind the anger, the way her voice wavered just a little. “And then he pushed John B off the railing. He could’ve died.”

“Seriously?” The shock was clear in your voice. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Topper had always been a bit intense, but this? This was dangerous.

“But John B is living at my house now,” Sarah continued, her voice softening slightly. “My dad is his guardian now.”

“That’s nice,” you said, your voice gentle, though your mind was still racing. You knew how complicated things were for Sarah, how torn she was between what was expected of her and what she really wanted. “I’m sure Rafe doesn’t like it.”

There was a sudden silence on the other end, and you felt a prickle of anxiety run down your spine. You hadn’t meant to bring Rafe up, not after everything that had happened, but the words had slipped out before you could stop them.

“Who cares what he feels like,” Sarah said sharply, her voice tight with irritation. You winced, regretting mentioning him. There was so much tension between the siblings, and you knew better than to add fuel to that fire.

“Uh—I was just saying...” you mumbled, stumbling over your words, feeling foolish. Why had you brought him up? Why had you even thought it was okay to mention him? It was a stupid mistake, one you couldn’t take back.

“I have to go now,” Sarah said abruptly, her tone clipped, cutting through the awkward silence. “I’ll talk to you later.” And before you could respond, she hung up.

You stared at your phone, the screen dark and empty, the weight of the conversation settling over you. You weren’t sure if she’d cut the call short because of your mention of Rafe or if she really did have somewhere to be. Either way, it left a bitter taste in your mouth, an uncomfortable knot of anxiety tightening in your chest.

You sighed, dropping your phone onto the bed beside you. It had been a stupid mistake, bringing him up like that. You knew how sensitive things were between Sarah and Rafe, how volatile their relationship could be. And here you were, complicating things further.

But you couldn’t help it. He was always there, lingering at the edge of your thoughts, and it scared you how much he was starting to matter. How much he was starting to mean. You closed your eyes, trying to push it all away, but it was useless. The worry, the guilt, the confusion—they all churned inside you, making it impossible to find any peace.

•°•°•°•°•°•

It was nighttime, and you were winding down after a long day, going through your skincare routine in the bathroom. The warmth of the shower still lingered on your skin, and the rhythmic motions of applying your creams and serums were almost meditative. As you gently massaged your face, you tried to let go of the thoughts swirling in your mind, but they seemed determined to stay.

Your phone buzzed, breaking the silence. You glanced down and saw Rafe’s name light up on the screen. Instantly, your heart skipped a beat. You quickly picked up your phone and opened the message.

Rafe: Can you come over to Gilson's house? I really need you right now.

You frowned in confusion. What was he doing at the Gilsons' place? You knew they weren’t even in the Outer Banks. Anxiety fluttered in your stomach as you typed your response.

You: Why are you at Gilsons?

His reply came almost instantly like he was waiting on edge for you to respond.

Rafe: I’ll tell you when you come over.

You sighed deeply, staring at your reflection in the mirror. You were practically ready for bed, your hair still damp and your face freshly cleansed. You felt torn, caught between the comfort of your warm bed and the urgency in Rafe’s message. Should you go? Was it really that serious?

Before you could overthink it, you typed back:

You: I’ll be there in a few minutes.

With a mix of nerves and determination, you hurriedly put on some clothes, the adrenaline making your hands shake as you slipped into your dress. You sneaked out of the house quietly, not wanting to explain to anyone where you were going or why. The cool night air brushed against your skin as you made your way to the Gilsons' house, your mind racing with possibilities.

As you approached, you noticed the front doors were unlocked. You hesitated for a moment, wondering if you’d find a party inside, but there was only silence. A strange, unsettling quiet. You stepped inside, your eyes adjusting to the darkness. The house felt almost eerie, empty, and vast, like a space that should be full of life but wasn’t.

“Rafe?” you whispered, the sound barely more than a breath, hoping he was the only one here.

Suddenly, his voice came from behind you, making you jump. “Y/N.” You turned around to find him standing close, too close, his expression hard to read in the dim light.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you asked, the concern in your voice evident.

“My dad kicked me out,” Rafe confessed, his voice raw and edged with something dark and heavy.

Worry tightened your chest immediately. “What? Why?”

“I owed Barry a lot of money for coke, and my dad caught me trying to steal a watch,” he explained, his words falling heavily between you. “I had nowhere else to go, so I came here.”

Your heart ached at the sight of him, so lost and vulnerable. You knew he was in deep with Barry, but you hadn’t realized just how bad things had gotten. The weight of his words settled over you, pressing down on your chest.

You took a step closer, your voice softening. “Why did you want me to come over?”

Rafe’s gaze locked onto yours, the intensity in his eyes making your breath catch. He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming in the quiet, dark room. “Because I need you. I have nothing and no one except for you.”

Your heart swelled, a rush of emotions flooding through you. You wanted to be there for him, to help him, to somehow make everything better. His hand reached up, his fingers brushing against your cheek. His touch was warm, but there was something off, something that made you look more closely at him.

“Rafe, are you high?” you asked, leaning into his touch despite the worry creeping into your voice.

“A little bit,” he admitted, his eyes, wide and glassy, staring back at you.

“You know I don’t like when you do drugs,” you reminded him, your voice gentle but firm.

“I know. I know,” Rafe said, his hand slipping away from your face, and you felt the loss of contact acutely. “I’m sorry.”

You quickly reached out and grabbed his hand again, squeezing it softly. “But I get it. You’re going through a lot.”

Rafe smiled at you, a small, almost boyish smile that made your heart ache. “Wanna make me forget about things?” he asked, his voice dipping low, filled with a mix of need and desperation.

You felt your stomach flip. You suspected what he was hinting at, but you needed to be sure. “How?”

He moved even closer, his hand finding your waist and pulling you gently against him. “You know how... We’re all alone now, and I can’t wait any longer.”

“Rafe...” you breathed, his proximity making your thoughts blur. You knew he was high, and part of you hesitated, unsure if anything should happen right now, in this state.

He could sense your hesitation, but he didn’t back down. “You know you can’t just come into my bed... Let me finger you at the party... Let me feel how wet you get for me.. and then pretend like it didn’t happen.”

“I’m not pretending—” you began, but Rafe cut you off.

“But you’re avoiding it going any further...”

“It’s not that I don’t want it, it’s just—” You hesitated, the words stuck in your throat. This was a moment you had always been cautious about, and here it was, raw and real and terrifying.

Rafe tilted his head, his expression a mix of confusion and concern. “It’s just what?”

“I’ve never done it, Rafe.” The words spilled out, your voice barely above a whisper, as if admitting it would shatter something fragile between you.

For a moment, silence stretched between you, thick and heavy. You weren’t sure how he would react, how he would feel about you still being a virgin.

Then, to your surprise, Rafe chuckled softly. “You think I don’t know that? I’ve heard you and Sarah talking about it countless times.”

Your eyes widened, the revelation hitting you like a slap. He had been listening, absorbing those intimate conversations between you and your best friend. It felt like a strange invasion of privacy, but also strangely comforting, knowing that he had paid attention, that he cared enough to listen.

“So... uh... you have nothing against it?” you asked, your voice uncertain.

“Of course not.” Rafe’s voice was low and filled with a husky, raw desire. “If anything, it just turns me on even more that no one touched you but me.”

There was something almost possessive in the way he said it, a dark, thrilling edge that sent a shiver down your spine. He took your hand and guided it toward the bulge in his pants. Your breath hitched when you felt him, hard and straining against the fabric. He hadn’t even touched you yet, and he was already this aroused. Your eyes widened, a mix of curiosity and nerves.

Rafe’s lips curved into a smirk at your reaction. “I want to be the one to teach you everything. Can I?”

You nodded, but that wasn’t enough for him. He leaned closer, his voice a soft, insistent murmur. “Baby, I’m gonna need your words.”

“Yes, I want you to teach me.” Your voice trembled, barely a whisper, but filled with the longing and anticipation that had been building between you for so long.

Rafe leaned down, his mouth capturing yours in a fierce, passionate kiss. It was rough, needy, and so full of unspoken feelings that it took your breath away. His fingers traced the hem of your dress, and before you knew it, he had pulled it over your head, leaving you standing there in only your underwear.

In a surge of bravery, you reached for his shirt, tugging it over his head. His skin was warm under your touch, his muscles taut and defined. His lips found yours again, hot and urgent, his hands roaming over your body as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

You fumbled with his belt, your fingers trembling with nerves and excitement. Rafe’s hands joined yours, helping you, and soon you were both stripped down to your underwear, the air between you electric with anticipation.

In one swift movement, Rafe lifted you, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you to the bedroom. Your core tingled, his hardness pressing against your most sensitive spot, sending jolts of pleasure through you.

He laid you down gently on the bed, his body hovering over yours, his eyes drinking in the sight of you. “You’re beautiful, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down for another kiss, this one softer, sweeter.

His lips trailed down your neck, over your collarbone, his hands exploring every inch of your body. When his mouth found your breasts, you gasped, the sensation so new, so intense. Your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him close as his kisses grew more heated, more urgent.

His fingers hooked around the waistband of your panties, and you lifted your hips, letting him pull them down. The cool air of the room brushed against your exposed core, making you shiver. Rafe’s gaze was intense, almost reverent, as he looked at you.

He placed a finger on your clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that made your breath hitch, your body arching toward him. The sensation built slowly, each gentle stroke sending ripples of pleasure through your body. You gasped, your chest arching as Rafe's finger moved in those maddening, teasing circles. Every touch, every flick of his finger made you shudder, your nerves lighting up like fireworks.

He watched your reactions closely, his eyes dark with desire and something else—something deeper. He wanted you, yes, but he also wanted to make this perfect for you, to be the one to show you how good it could feel. The intensity of his gaze sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through you.

When he slipped a finger inside you, your breath caught. He moved slowly, cautiously, giving you time to adjust. You felt a slight stretch, a dull ache that quickly melted into something more as he began to move, his finger sliding in and out in a rhythm that made your toes curl. Your hands clutched at the sheets, trying to ground yourself as the pleasure began to build, a tight coil of sensation low in your belly.

“Rafe,” you whimpered, his name a desperate plea on your lips as you fought to keep your eyes open, to watch the way he looked at you, his focus entirely on the way your body responded to him.

“Does it feel good, Y/N?” he asked his voice barely a whisper, rough and breathless next to your ear. The sound of his voice, the way it trembled with restraint, made you shiver.

You could only nod, your voice caught in your throat as his finger continued its relentless, perfect rhythm. He added another finger, and the sensation intensified, stretching you, filling you. The tightness in your stomach grew, winding tighter and tighter with each movement, each soft, sinful whisper of his voice.

Rafe leaned down, his mouth finding yours in a heated kiss. You could taste the longing, the need in the way he kissed you, his lips hot and urgent against yours. His thumb found your clit again, rubbing gentle, maddening circles that made your whole body tremble.

“I want you to cum for me, baby,” he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with desire. His fingers moved faster, his thumb pressing harder against that sensitive spot, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

Your eyes squeezed shut, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable peak. “Rafe, I—” The words caught in your throat, lost in a moan as your body tensed, the coil of sensation inside you snapping as you fell over the edge.

Your climax hit you hard, your body arching off the bed as waves of pleasure crashed over you, overwhelming and all-consuming. You cried out, your hands grasping at Rafe’s shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you held on, riding out the intense, blissful high.

Rafe watched you with a mix of awe and satisfaction, his fingers still moving, drawing out every last tremor of your orgasm until you were trembling beneath him, utterly spent.

“God..you feel so good,” he whispered, his voice a soothing murmur in your ear as he gently pulled his fingers from your body. You whimpered at the loss, your body still sensitive, still buzzing with the aftershocks of pleasure.

Rafe leaned down, kissing you softly, his lips tender against yours. You could feel his desire, the way his body strained with the effort to hold back, to be gentle, to let you come down from your high.

But then his lips left yours, and you felt his hands on the waistband of his boxers, sliding them down. You looked down, your eyes widening as you saw him, hard and ready, his length jutting out, intimidating and yet so incredibly enticing.

“You ready?” he asked, his voice soft, careful, as he lined himself up with your entrance.

“Wait!” Panic flared in your chest as you realized, your eyes widening. “You didn’t put a condom on.”

“Shit. I’m sorry. I forgot.” Rafe’s voice was rushed, apologetic as he reached over to where his duffle bag was, rummaging through it until he pulled out a condom. You watched as he tore open the wrapper, your breath catching as he slid the condom over his length, his movements quick and efficient.

He returned to you, positioning himself above you once more, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of tenderness and desire. “Can I continue now?”

You nodded, biting your lip as anticipation thrummed through you. You wanted this, more than anything. You wanted to feel him, to be as close to him as possible, to share this moment with him.

Slowly, carefully, Rafe pushed into you, his eyes never leaving your face. You scrunched your eyes shut for a second, the stretch intense, the dull ache making you wince. He paused, his hand gently brushing your cheek, waiting, watching, giving you time to adjust.

“You okay?” His voice was a soft, worried murmur.

You nodded, opening your eyes to meet his gaze. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

He smiled, a small, relieved smile, and then he began to move, his hips rocking gently against yours. The first few thrusts were slow, almost tentative, as he let your body adjust, as you both found your rhythm.

The pain subsided, replaced by a slow-building pleasure that made your breath hitch, your body arching toward him. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your hips rising to meet his, the two of you moving together, finding a rhythm that made you feel like you were floating.

“That’s it, baby,” Rafe murmured, his voice rough and strained as he leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a heated kiss. You kissed him back, your hands tangling in his hair, holding him close as your bodies moved in perfect sync.

The pleasure built, growing stronger with each thrust, each kiss, each soft, desperate moan that escaped your lips. You could feel Rafe’s body tensing, his movements growing more urgent, more desperate.

“Rafe, I think I’m—” Your words were cut off as his hand slipped between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing gentle, teasing circles that made your whole body shudder.

The sensation was overwhelming, the pleasure building to a peak so intense you could barely breathe. Your body tensed, your breath catching as you felt yourself teetering on the edge, so close, so impossibly close.

“I want to feel you come around me,” Rafe whispered his voice a rough, desperate plea as he thrust into you, his pace quickening. His words sent you over the edge, your body tightening around him as your orgasm crashed over you, so powerful it left you trembling, crying out his name.

You felt him follow, his body tensing, his breath catching as he shuddered, his release spilling into the condom. He held you close, his forehead resting against yours, both of you breathing hard, your bodies slick with sweat, your hearts pounding in perfect sync.

He pulled out gently, his movements careful, and you felt a dull ache settling over your lower region, a reminder of the intensity of what had just happened. But you didn’t mind. It was worth it, every moment, every touch, every kiss.

“You did so good,” Rafe whispered, his voice filled with awe and pride as he looked down at you, his eyes soft and filled with something that made your heart swell.

You blushed, a small smile tugging at your lips as you looked up at him. “Thank you.”

Rafe pulled you against him, his arms wrapping around you as you both lay there, tangled in each other, your bodies still buzzing with the afterglow. You felt safe in his arms, warm and content, the reality of what had just happened settling over you like a dream.

After a few minutes, you sat up, your mind already drifting back to the world outside, to the consequences, to what came next. “I should probably go,” you said softly, your voice hesitant, the thought of leaving him making your heart ache.

Rafe’s expression shifted, confusion flickering across his face as he sat up as well, his hand reaching out to grab your arm before you could slide out of bed. “No. Stay.”

You hesitated, looking down at where his fingers gently held your arm. “I didn’t tell anyone I left,” you murmured, your voice laced with uncertainty.

“Just tell them in the morning you slept at Sarah’s,” Rafe suggested, his voice earnest, his eyes searching yours. “Come on. I want you to stay with me.”

You looked at him, his expression so open, so sincere, and after a few seconds of weighing the consequences, you nodded. “Okay.” You knew the plan would work. You often stayed over at Sarah’s; no one would think twice about it.

You lay back down, your head resting against Rafe’s chest, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear. A smile crept over your lips as the reality of what had just happened sank in. You had dreamed of Rafe being your first, and now it was real. It felt even better than you’d ever imagined.

Rafe’s arms tightened around you, his breath warm against your hair as he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. You felt safe, cherished, wrapped up in his warmth, the world outside fading away.

Soon, exhaustion washed over you both, your eyes growing heavy as you drifted off to sleep, still tangled in each other’s arms. You fell asleep with the comforting weight of Rafe’s presence beside you, knowing that whatever came next, you’d face it together.

TAGS: @wearemadeofstardust0 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @thepopcultureaddict @deeznuggetsbebussin

[sweetzzzone]

.

[asiancatboy]

this might sound mean but over the past few years i've been growing into the person who is so discontent talking to people who can't hold a conversation

[girlcrushau]

[toxxicognaths]

.

[foldingfittedsheets]

I’d like to entertain and enliven you now with the saga of my Slut Era.

I’ve always been a serial monogamist and my shortest long term relationships clocked in at three years. So perhaps that’s why when I finally broke it off with my ex I went insane on dating. Part of it was definitely just that between anxiety and loneliness I wanted to fill up my time.

This happened when I was living alone for the first time, no roommates, just me and my little cat Leeloo. I didn’t want to come home to an empty house so instead I set up dates.

Most of these were disastrous. I’m not everyone’s cup of tea and I had a lot more first dates than second because they’d seen enough, including the one where people aggressively complimented me.

But after a few months I had four people I was seeing simultaneously. I was up front with all of them that things were not exclusive, and they all agreed, so no infidelity took place here, just a lot of hijinks.

Here’s who was on the dating roster:

• An apprentice woodworker that we’ll call Jill. I honestly thought at 26 years old that her being 21 wasn’t a problem age gap and I quickly learned that there was a vast gulf of both maturity and life experience between us. Jill described herself as “heteroflexible” and had just dumped her first boyfriend to flirt it up with me.

• A married woman looking for a friends with benefits. We’ll call her Alice. I insisted on meeting her husband first to be sure I wasn’t part of a cheating mess and he gave me his blessing when I stayed over at her house. Years later when he and Alice had divorced I would go on to sell him and his new fiancée an engagement ring and we both realized at the end how we knew each other and it was wildly awkward. Alice was nice, but a hardcore vegan who insisted I brush my teeth if I so much as ate string cheese before I could kiss her. She was also unhappy in her marriage and was feeling out if I’d want to get serious.

• A bartender dubbed Snakebites, so called because of her signature piercings. She cooked me a steak so raw it was still mooing and some of the best asparagus I’d ever had. In our singular sexy encounter she bit my nipple and I never got over it. Really don't bite someone if you don't know their preference and work up in pressure. We weren’t terribly compatible but neither of us were willing to admit it yet. Truthfully I considered still dating her solely because I desperately wanted her bathroom. It had all black tile, black toilet, black sink, a rain shower in the corner and a jacuzzi tub. I may not have loved her but god I loved that bathroom.

And finally,

• My beloved, who I would go on to marry, who was dealing with a lot of personal stuff at the time. Obviously that meant I liked them the best of all the people I was seeing because we were both disasters at the time.

So that’s the cast of this little misadventure. Now, our story begins with Jill.

Jill was someone who heightened my anxiety. Each of the three times she came to my home she brought and left more stuff. A self help book, a ramen kit, the entire Teen Titans collection of DVDs. It was like she was trying to move in. She also liked to deride my taste in things, frequently calling me a pleb when I mentioned a band or show I liked.

She was working on a gorgeous little decorative table in her woodworking program. The main wood for the top had a beautiful dapple of knots like jaguar spots, and when she showed me a picture I exclaimed how pretty it was.

“Do you want it?”

“Oh- I mean it’s lovely, I wouldn’t mind having it, but you should sell it and make some money!”

But she was adamant. She’d give me the little side table. At about this time, Alice was starting to get awfully lovey for a FWB. I knew she wasn’t happy with her husband but I also knew we were not a good fit. Fun fact: Alice and her husband were step siblings with a pretty hefty age gap. They got together when he stumbled upon a kink photo shoot she’d done with vegetables. None of their family was happy about the relationship but they weren’t related by blood so it was fine.

So I was fending off more overt romantic advances from Alice, and feeling increasingly like I needed to break things off with Jill. Snakebites wasn’t ever initiating communication and I decided to pull a lot of plugs at once.

I ghosted Snakebites, told Alice that I thought we should cool it, and in a move worthy of a rom-com I asked my beloved if I could pretend we were exclusive to put off Jill. They agreed and I texted Jill to let her know that I was no longer single.

I was not prepared for Jill’s response. She. Was. Devastated. She flew off the handle. She’d just been waiting for the right time to tell me how she felt about me! How dare I do this to her!

What about the table?!

“You should keep the table, it’s gorgeous, you’ll be able to sell it, but I don’t expect a free table.”

Silence met me after that text. I worried and fretted and eventually headed home.

There on my doorstep. The table.

It was a small little end table, reeking of oil and polish, but very beautiful. I brought it inside. The little drawer didn’t even have a knob or guide rails. But it did have a handwritten bill proclaiming that it was costing me $500.

“I can’t afford a $500 table, Jill!” I texted.

“Well you kept saying how nice it was. I spent a lot of time on it.”

“I’m not saying it’s not worth $500” (it wasn’t, it was a tiny side table made by an apprentice) “but I can’t buy a $500 table.”

“Make me an offer.”

I stared at the little table. I did actually like it, but I worried about the repercussions of entering into this deal. Hesitantly I typed back, “$300.” I didn’t think it was worth that much but I didn’t want to insult her too badly.

This suited her for the night. But the next day she informed me she needed a new bed, and that she’d take her $300 in credit toward a new mattress. I spent the whole next day basically wrangling with her over what she wanted and eventually she spiked back up to demanding $500 for the damn table.

“Let me just give it back,” I begged. It was not the first, second, or even third time I’d asked to return the thing but this time she finally relented and gave me her address. Since she lived with her parents still I’d never been over.

I called up my beloved and said, “Hey, I need moral support, can you run an errand with me?”

They agreed which is how we loaded up a self help book, a ramen kit, the entire Teen Titans DVD collection, and the table from hell into my little car together. Jill had said to meet her at one o'clock. I intended to drop everything off at noon and be done with this madness.

But while my beloved and I were on the doorstep leaving everything I heard, “Jill? You’re home early,” through the door. Her mom opened it to peer at us in confusion.

“I was just bringing Jill’s stuff back!” I chirped in alarm.

With little tact and a lot of speed we left her with Jill’s collection of things and then I sped out of there like my tail was on fire. I handed my phone to my beloved as I zoomed away instructing them to block Jill’s number. I was free. The tabletross around my neck had been returned.

It was about a month after that when my beloved and I officially began dating exclusively. I had wrapped up all my messy dating threads and it was a relief to be in a relationship again. They went on a trip to Mexico shortly after we made it official.

So I knew they were out of town. But next morning I walked out to my car and beheld a lipstick kiss pressed to the drivers side window.

I was petrified. I had just dumped three girls at once and had an extremely messy back and forth with one of them. Did I have a stalker?!

Of the girls, Alice seemed like likeliest candidate, being of a stronger lipstick variety girl than Jill or Snakebites. We had ended things a bit stiffly, but still cordial. She just laughed when I asked if she knew anything about it. “Nope,” she said, “but good luck.”

I’d rather have walked over broken glass then text Jill, and I’d firmly ghosted Snakebites so I was scared to reopen communication to ask if she was stalking me. I had to drop it. But it haunted me, that lipstick kiss.

For months I was jumpy, wondering which of my spurned lovers had done it. And why. Was it a threat? A goodbye? I lay awake thinking about it, worrying about how everyone I’d dated knew where I lived, which car was mine.

Finally, nothing else happened and I moved on. The kiss would remain a mystery and I had to be content with that.

It was a year later when I finally started filling my mom in on my dating escapades that I finally got closure. She was hooting and laughing as I went over the table debacle. Then I paused and added, “And then this kiss showed up on my car.”

“Did you like it?”

“What? No! I’m pretty sure one of them was stalking me! Who else would leave a kiss on my car?”

My mom started bellowing with laughter. “I did!” She wheezed.

Apparently. My mother had been driving by my place. And decided that a cute little gesture would be to leave me a kiss. And then decided to never mention it to me even though she’s never done anything like that previously.

“It scared the crap out of me!” I yelled while she collapsed with helpless laughter. “I thought I had a stalker! How could I possibly have known that was you?!”

“How could I have known you’d just broken up with three girls at once?” She wheezed in rejoinder and like. Fair play.

So that’s how my mom convinced me I had a stalker and I got out of buying a $500 table.

[anantaru]

— does he like it when you're being clingy?

including wriothesley, neuvillette, kaveh, scaramouche x gn! reader

꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff & crack, lots of physical touch, established relationship, kissies, love sick genshin men

— wriothesley

as much as wriothesley shows off his strong demeanor for the outside world to see, he cannot lie to himself when it comes to you— because the duke likes seeing you be clingy with him and search for his vehemence.

to him, there was nothing better than having your arms all padded up around him while you kiss his little worries away— so for all he cares, let the outside world call him bewitched if they must, or caught in an angelic spell for that matter. to wriothesley it didn't sound bad nor did he really give a damn about what a so called nobody would say about his life, alongside the fact that he found it quite amusing whenever they did talk about him.

the duke was exceptionally gentle with you, but sometimes he just wants to be able to see you love him in a whole differing modus other than you simply uttering out the three delicate words— in fact, wriothesley too, cares about you so much that he's trying to keep you around all the time, having you enveloped in his arms like he always daydreams of whenever you were apart from each other— hoping that you'd visit him so he could listen to whatever story you might tell him about.

now, was this a new feeling? well, yes. simply put, it was one he had never experienced before. the man had always been faithful, protective and nurturing in his life, so when love solidified the senses of his body, wriothesley was able to finally share his love with somebody.

what you did not know was that wriothesley was slightly frightened in the early stages of your relationship, to someone like the duke it wasn't particularly a breezy walk in the park to open up to another individual and realize that for the first time in his life, he was able to trust someone undoubtedly without fearing a possible mistreat.

now, he admits his love to you when he felt ready to do so, and when he does spell out the three words that bonded a relationship anew, your lips curl deeper into a passionate smile as he kisses the sides of your mouth.

your company alone was an important determination factor of his mood, and although he doesn't want to trouble you with his work, nor was he really allowed to share important and confidential details, wriothesley was certain that you would always be there to listen to him no matter what crossed his mind.

interesting how his heart has not once melted in his entire life prior to finding his soulmate. that's why in his eyes, there is no truer language than the language of love.

a cruel world that has been so cold go him surely wouldn't give him such wonderful gift?

alas, it did— wriothesley could feel it in his bones whenever you held him close to your chest late at night, his ear shell quietly pressed right above your heart. the silent vibrations place a pure tepidness of passion on his soul when he finds himself gradually softening to it, on all occasions smiling as he falls asleep in your arms.

— neuvillette

in the early stages of your relationship, when you had first placed your lips on neuvillette's, the three letter announcement evaporates from his tongue as fluid as when sunlight enters the raindrops and emerges as rainbows from afar.

and yes, much to his surprise he didn't die because of it, who would've saw that coming? although the iudex wholeheartedly believed that he would suffer from a cardiac arrest due to the vast bursts of anxiety gradually chugging away his confidence.

"can i sit on your lap?" you smile gently, unsure whether his silence is that of enthusiasm or distaste.

neuvillette can hardly register it at first before he presses out a pathetic little yes when his excitement reaches the roof of his head and violently breaks through it, showing you those open and loving eyes that were the golden entry to his soul.

you hear a deep, breathless pant when you sit on him, witnessing how a hefty amount of redness catches up to his face until battering his ears, ultimately coaxing out a shiver from his spine.

don't misunderstand his unusual reactions— but neuvillette couldn't quite fathom that you belonged to him and sought out his body like that, it's always special when you nonchalantly rounded your hands on his face and replenished his energy anew, as if his frame was reborn in its most perfect form solely when he felt your trace.

and so, he cannot get enough of your warmth— no wonder when you remind yourself of the pure emotions that he harbored deeply for you.

instinctively, you rest your body against his chest, a soft glow rounding up your facial features, "ah, can't wait until you're done with this," you huff and point at his office desk being crowded by a bunch of papers as you press a small peck against the tip of his nose, ruffling his hair a little.

"it is rather late, you mustn't stay here," he insists, a barely distinctive curve of his lips turning all the difference in the choice of his tone.

"oh? does that mean you want to get rid of me?" how terribly skilled you were when you soaked your words in viscous sarcasm— so skillful in fact that neuvillette would always fall for it head first, or that's what you thought.

he raises a brow before curving one arm around your waist, leaning you against his chest so you wouldn't be able to move an inch, even if you tried.

"now," he playfully scolds, "you, my love, couldn't be farer from the truth."

"and here i thought you must know me by now?"

"i'm joking with you!" you panic, battering his cheek with little kisses as if he didn't know— but neuvillette sees how happy you were whenever you believed you fooled him.

he cocks an eyebrow at you, his mannerism in a questioning stance.

"apologies, aren't jokes supposed to be humorous?"

you scoff, "hmpf, now you're just mean!"

— kaveh

from an outer perspective, one couldn't possibly figure out who was clingier towards the other person— and even with someone being a close friends of the both of you, it's beyond the bounds of possibility to crown a winner.

you or kaveh? who yearned for the attention of the other more? to answer such difficult question, you should first know of the moniker a certain scribe has given you, in fact, within your friend-group kaveh and you had instantly claimed the title of most insufferable couple.

you might wonder, was that a bad thing? oh well, not at all!

and kaveh doesn't even attempt to conceal the priceless smirk on his face whenever he heard his roommate address the both of you as that— it turned him deeply fulfilled that everyone was able to see how crazy he was about you.

your heart feels full by his comforting arms that each throb rattles across your limbs and muscles, feeling weightless at the welcoming cradle— your love being whole, one touch and a gentle kiss on the lips and you feel on a bed of roses, tucked up in velvet.

"what is it?" kaveh leans at you, raising a brow at the way you peak behind his shoulder. during closer inspection, you catch up on a sneaky little smirk that frames his lips the more you focused on what's behind him, "c'mon baby, tell me," kaveh kisses your cheek.

"i think they're calling us insufferable again." you point behind his shoulder, specifically at a table with three people— one wholly focused on the cards in his hands and remaining unbothered while the others sneakily glanced over to you every now and then, whispering incoherent mumbles into each others ears with their palms covering their lips.

and your words don't achieve anything besides making him all the more amused when he wraps his arms around your waist, it's evident, very much so but kaveh was fond of the situation— perhaps he even prided himself on it, he has the audacity to act surprised though.

he laughs, nudging the tip of his nose against your jaw, "they're probably just talking about a way to beat cyno in tcg."

he continues, "we should leave early," and states firmly, "but i think alhaitham took my keys again."

"how does this always happen?" you note tiresomely before dropping your head onto his shoulder— a little too dramatically so that the scribe picked up on it immediately, revealing a triumphant smirk.

perhaps that is why they say love is such magic, this gift from the universe that was unable to be compared, this sweet addiction that no matter what situation you were in, big or small, if it's the two of you facing it together, it was nothing.

— scaramouche

even if scaramouche doesn't straight out admit it to you, he likes it whenever you were clingy with him— and after a good while of you two being in a relationship, he will more and more show his genuine love of it until he’s practically playing with the thought of begging for more.

in the beginning it starts by how fast his cheeks flame red and his focus dwindling as you hug him. after that particular encounter scaramouche memorizes what you did and decides that this must be a proper way to greet you as well— maybe even give you a little kiss on the cheek if he's feeling like it.

scratch that, what he lacks was the courage to go that far.

but no matter how often you would greet him this way, the action alone send him spiraling, shyly snuggling closer to you, inch by inch, although not risking it to hold eye contact and instead averting his gaze as he attempts to indulge in it nervously— stiff as concrete with both arms frozen on each side of his body when you wrapped your limbs around him.

he leans into your touch and closes his eyes— how warm, it's as if the sun itself would shine down on him and prickle on his skin, you feel so whole, like a home.

your touch, it's difficult to explain besides the fact that it carries such passion, and before scaramouche could register it— what was once scarred long ago expresses gentleness all of a sudden. 

although not everything from his past could be forgotten, yet your presence made it bearable.

what was also a crucial task to scaramouche was his recent curiosity in understanding the concept of love and how he fell for it— while he ultimately came to the conclusion that the only way to understand love is to feel it, attempt to embody it, or embrace it in its complete form. 

next time, you greet him with a blank look on your face as he applies your method on you first, slightly catching you off guard as he welcomes you home almost wordlessly, taking your hand in his cold one when he pulls you into a hug— it is a silent engage and the way he practically dragged you into him made your forehead smack his shoulder.

thankfully scaramouche doesn't have to speak in order for you to understand what he was trying to signalize here.

what's following next would be considered even sillier than him blatantly copying you, but when the two of you walk alongside each other through the hustling streets of sumeru city, you flinch a little at a strong grab on your hand ambushing you, "hey, nope— hold on, stop walking and give me your hand dammit," scaramouche scoffs as he chases after it, when with a quick motion, he traps it finally and tangles his digits around your own.

"there's no fun if i make it easy," you wink, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his jaw, "i like the faces you make when you're mad, you know? your expressions are so cute."

"don't you realize you're wasting time like that?" scaramouche clicks his tongue before squeezing your hand in his grasp, letting out an audible hmph before turning his head towards the street.

"honestly? that's fine by me," you coo softly, smothering him with the attention he craves as more of your fingers dig into the soft flesh of his palm.

"as long as you still love me, of course."

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

[thecoochiefairy]

━━ 𝑏𝑎𝑏𝑦 𝑏𝑙𝑢𝑒𝑠 .ᐟ toji.

warnings 𑄽𑄺 21.5K pregnancy kink, a LOT of dialogue ngl, third person pov, black woman, vaginal penetration, rough sex, hair pulling, squirting, creaming, oral [f] [m], choking, daddy kink, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, condomless sex, kissing, spanking, dad! toji, sweet! toji, talks of self-image, aggressive toji, daddy toji, baby megumi, minors aren’t welcome!

song to play while listening; 𝑠𝑛𝑜𝑜𝑧𝑒 ; 𝑆𝑍𝐴

━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ i don’t wanna get all self deprecating, this didn’t feel like my best work, but this is the second part to the first fic ever wrote, and i missed my seioni, toji + megumi pairing. it’s kinda long. sorry. i had to. enjoy, love you. 🫶🏽

AN INTERNAL THUMPING DRONES ALONG HER EARS AS HER SLENDER EYES GLANCE UP AT THE SCREEN. The gel along her stretched belly is cold against her skin, the hand of the doctor continuing to rub gently as she stared at the life growing inside of her. 

Her mind had been everywhere to say the least. This was the first time she’d been to an appointment by herself, having her friends hold a trembling hand as she got news about the journey of her pregnancy. She was trying to keep her attention along the doctor's voice as her anxieties whipped around her body like a tornado. But as the nurse walked in with a forced smile, purposely flipping the paper over into the doctor's hand, her attentiveness peaked. 

Her heart could’ve dropped as the same nurse gave her a rub to the shoulder, thoughts immediately going to the worst. Those worries pulled all together in preparation for an anxiety attack as the doctor placed his glasses down to look along the words, giving a hum at the results. 

Although she wanted to scream, she pulled it together and filled the silence within the room as she politely asked, “Uh…is something wrong, Doctor?”

The doctor glances up at her, giving a small smile to reassure her with a shake to his head, “No, nothing’s wrong, Seioni. The baby is fine as well,” he pats her thigh, seeing as that causes her to release the breath she’d been holding before he continues, “The only… hiccup would be that your blood pressure seems to be higher than normal.”

“Oh,” she says softly, “I didn’t realize.”

What was she supposed to say? She felt like she was in trouble, unsure of how to process that information. She hadn’t been feeling too bad—a couple of headaches here and there—she figured it was just her lack of eating. 

The doctor hums as he glances back at the paper, “How have you been feeling lately? How has the pregnancy been on you so far?” He asks, looking back at her.

“Good! I mean—as good as I can be,” she watches as the nurse comes to wipe her stomach, softly thanking her as she sits up. She knew that she might not have been telling the entire truth, but this also wasn’t a therapy session. Rubbing her belly had become a nail-biting replacement, seeing as the doctor then asks, “Do you still own your tattoo shop?” 

“Yeah, but I don’t work anymore. My fiancè takes care of everything, but for the most part the shop runs itself,” she briefly explains. 

The doctor nods understandingly. This still wasn’t a therapy session, but being her primary doctor and having that relationship with her, he couldn’t help but pry just a bit. 

 He hums, “That’s good to hear…” glancing at the ultrasound before looking back at her, “How has your home life been? How is your fiancé?”

That was the burning question. Officially being in a relationship with Toji taught her what it was like to be with a man, it scared her to open herself up to someone in a way she hadn’t in years. Not only did she never expect herself to actually end up with him, she damn sure didn’t expect to become a maternal figure to his son—Megumi—who was now freshly two-years old, hopping along for the ride of the relationship between his father and ‘Oni’’ as he’d call her. They all experienced a love between one another that blossomed as months passed—but that didn’t mean it didn’t have its…faults. 

Seioni sighed, tracing her fingers lightly against her belly before she replied, “My fiancé has a son, he just turned two. We’ve been potty training him and it’s been…a mess, no pun intended,” she lightly giggles, “He fusses a lot now since we’re trying to get him off of his pacifier, and he has trouble sleeping. I’ve also been trying to plan a wedding and baby shower by myself because my fiancè wants to make sure I have everything my way. On top of that I feel like a beluga whale, I can’t keep food down because I vomit at certain smells since my nostrils are similar to a dog now—do you know what dirt smells like? Seriously, I mean, have you smelled it? It's awful—but uh—As far as me and my fiancè, he’s been working a lot so…I don’t see much of him at times,” she realizes as everything sounds overwhelming, muttering a soft, “Sorry.”

The doctor gave a sympathetic look, understanding her situation. He sighs before he speaks again, giving a gentle smile to her, “You have a lot on your plate. You know what you’re experiencing are symptoms of stress, correct? That’s what’s causing your high blood pressure.”

Seioni knew that she could be a bit neurotic, but she didn’t realize that these things were genuinely putting her in a state of distress. Megumi’s growing pains, Toji’s lack of interest within the wedding and baby shower, and their lack of intimacy whether it was in the bedroom or out of it. Maybe she just needed some dick—or a box of tissues. 

“What does your husband do for work?” 

She blinks, not ever having an answer for that question. She then convinced herself, “Uh—contractor. Yup, contractor.” 

“Maybe you should suggest for him to take some time off of work then. But regardless, this is a beautiful situation. You have a baby girl coming, you're planning a baby shower, and your wedding will be soon, correct?” 

“Yes, I’m thinking Italy,” she nods, seeing as that makes the doctor warmly smile. 

She thinks to herself, this is a happy time. So why the hell did she feel so…mundane? 

She blinks, raising her eyes up to him as she nods, “I guess I didn’t realize I was stressing myself out that badly. Am I…harming my baby?” She worries, eyebrows furrowing as she lets out a deep breath.

“No, no. You’re not harming your baby in any way. I’m just worried for you. Both mentally and physically.” He reassured her, “It seems your blood pressure is fine now and everything else is normal. You just need to make sure you don’t stress yourself out anymore as your pregnancy progresses. Let me ask, are you and your fiancè intimate?”

She raises her eyes, feeling her face go lightly warm as she repeats, “Intimate as in…sex? Is that really okay during pregnancy?”

He gave a small laugh, a little flustered that it was even a question as he soothes, “Yes, dear. It’s perfectly fine, healthy for you and the baby. It also increases the production of oxytocin—“ he pauses as he sees her face fill with confusion before he explains, “The ‘love’ hormone, essentially. It reduces pregnant stress, improves sleep, and temporarily masks aches and pains. Sex, bonding, and an increase in endorphins help a pregnant woman sleep better to combat exhaustion and other griping pregnancy symptoms.” 

When he sees that she still has a hesitation along her face, he gives her a gentle touch along her shoulder as he says, “No stressing, okay? How about I prescribe you some Lexapro? You can take them as needed, not anything you have to worry about fitting into your schedule.”

Seioni immediately knew that if Toji wasn’t such a damn workaholic, he’d be under her like a baby attached to a nipple—already having a small disagreement about her taking anything that wasn’t her prenatals. He’d dealt with a pregnant woman before, wanting to make sure she was as healthy as possible. But shit, he didn’t know everything, did he?

“…I guess it wouldn’t be a bad idea to have. I’d just be worried if taking anything other than my prenatal might be harmful,” she tells him honestly.

He nods, understanding her concern. He sits down on a stool after he pulls it near her before breaking down, “That’s normal. Let me reassure you that Lexapro— a SSRI—Selective-serotonin-reuptake inhibitor— is safe for both pregnant women as well as their babies. It’s been shown that only 1% of the medication is passed on to the fetus during delivery, and that is an extremely small percentage. It’s deemed completely safe.”

She lets out a deep breath, realizing that she’s once again stressing herself out about things that don’t have to be overwhelming to her. This should’ve been the time where she rested, being seven months pregnant made her feel like she was going to explode. 

She then nods her head as she exhales, “Thank you so much, doctor. Me and my little boo boo feel so blessed to have you,” she gives him a soft smile, rubbing her belly happily.

 “It’s my pleasure. You’ be sure to take care of yourself, okay?” He teased her a little, standing back up on his feet, “I’ll call that prescription in and the pharmacy should have it ready for you by the time you get there,” As he goes to help her off the table, he adds on, “Oh, and your fiancé should be expecting a call from me as well.”

“Uh, why? If you don’t mind me asking?” She places her hand along the bottom of her stomach, letting out a tired breath as she pulls herself up to stand.

The doctor chuckled lightly as he saw the small struggle and helped her stand, saying, “It’s nothing worrisome. Just gonna let him know about your prescription,” He tells her, “He’ll need to know about your blood pressure as well.”

Shit. She was hoping that she could at least talk to him about the prescription first, knowing that when he meant something, he meant it. She pulls her smile lines up to hold a happy expression on her face, nodding as she repeats, “Yeah, of course. Thank you again.” 

The moment she leaves the doctors office, she soaks in his words, taking them into consideration. This should’ve been the happiest time for her. The only stress should have been picking out names, choosing colors for her bridesmaids dresses, and creating a registry for the perfect gifts. Another issue she’d been facing was the insecurities she felt within her own body changing. Her nose was wider than usual, her hips were now actually child bearing, and her belly walked in the room before she did. What if she wasn’t attractive anymore? 

On the opposite end, Toji drowned in her scent, wanting to eat her alive each time he saw her—if only she knew that. She wasn’t sure why her face was warm as she clutched the olive green baby doll dress, standing within Victoria Secret as the cashier rudely eyed her belly more than she needed to. 

“‘Fuck are you looking at?” She said before she thought about it, the cashier quickly dropped her eyes back to the lingerie as she shoved it into the bag. 

Finally making her way back home, she thanks the babysitter as she sends her off for the rest of the day. She thinks to herself as she’s within the kitchen taking out the steak that she plans to cook, realizing these issues wouldn’t feel as big if she had Toji’s full support. 

It's not that he wasn’t trying to help. He just wanted everything her way, she was his princess. He assumed that letting her handle these tasks would keep her busy since she complained about not working. She hoped that once Megumi went to bed, she could have some…alone time with Toji. But as she was now sat across from Megumi who refused to pee in the toilet, her track of time was off, and she wasn’t sure if her mission would be a success. She sat on the phone with her mom, listening to her complain about her older brother’s constant circle of women he presented to their father and aunt.  Even through her amusement, she couldn’t help that she deeply missed them all, although they could sometimes be…something. 

“Your stupid-ass-big-headed ass brother has brought the second girl over here this week, talking about ‘This the one for real Ma’,’ boy, please. And the girls be’ cute, too! If only they had a brain. I tell them to run! Shoes off! Barefoot! Why didn’t you just let me ship him off to your place and move into your old condo?”

“Because he would have to pay rent, which would require him to have a job,” she emphasizes, “You let Nova eat, sleep and shit in your house for free. If you gave his’ ass responsibility he’d explode.”

“What you’ tryna say, lil’ girl? Don’t make me smack you through this phone.”

“Hitting a pregnant woman? Have some decorum,” she chuckles, “But you know exactly what I’m saying, momma. That’s your pride and joy, you need to take him off the nipple and kick him out, have him shack up with his thousands of bitches. I love my brother to death, but he can’t be living under you his whole life.”

“How about you worry about the baby in your belly and the one in front of you who refuses to pee?”

Her eyes immediately met with the familiar gray ones she saw within her fiancé’s. His fat olive cheeks are currently a tint of red as his arms cross below him, dark hair spruced all around his head as he frowned across from her, sitting on his teddy bear decorated makeshift toilet. 

“Have you been taking the fish oil pills I sent?”  her mother asks.

Seioni frowns, “Yuck. Everything except those. I can barely keep food down, do you want me to vomit?” 

She then turns her head back towards Megumi as she sighs, “C’mon, Sweetface. You said ‘Oni, pee!’ earlier.”

Another issue that they faced, with Megumi being two, in comparison to other children there was a…slowness to his ability to speak. They thought he’d be farther in his journey, understanding more than he could reply. But it wasn’t an end of the world issue. It was something that was brought up in conversation when it came to Toji’s ability to teach him, but that conversation quickly ended. One thing everyone knew—Toji didn’t play about his child. 

Megumi shakes his, saying, “No, no, no!” as he wiggles his way from the toilet. 

Her mother hears their little argument as she asks, “Meg’ giving you a hard time with potty training again?” 

“As always,” Seioni sighs. 

“How about you give him treats for it?” 

Seioni frowns, “Jesus, he’s not a dog, momma. And I don’t want him thinking that the only way you accomplish things is immediately receiving an award for them.” 

She sighs as she looks at Megumi, “I wish you were here, mommy. You had me and Nova potty trained before we were even counting. How’s Dad? And Aunt Celeste?”

Her mother heard the longing tone of her daughter’s words and immediately sympathized. Her daughter always had a close relationship with her family, so it was expected for her to miss them. 

“Your father’s fine. He’s in the backyard tending to the garden like he says he’s going to do every summer,” she replied, slightly amused by her over-the-top husband, “And Celeste is somewhere in her room caked-up on the phone with her many boyfriends. Probably where Nova’s slutty ass gets it from.” 

Seioni laughs lightly as she smiles, just envisioning her father out in the garden every summer with a ridiculous sunhat and shorts, a gardening shovel in his hand as the sweat glistens on his body. She also envisioned her aunt, boisterous laugh as she twirled her hair to any man’s attention. This conversation was only aiding her home-sickness, she felt her stomach beginning to ache.

She brings her eyes back to Megumi, staring over him as he sits silently along the toilet. She then says to him, “Megumi, pee?” 

Megumi gives a pout, his chin quivering as he mutters out, “No-potty!” his little hands curling up into fists. He refused to use the toilet, and only wanted to use his pull-ups. 

Seioni huffs, running her hand through her hair, “Oh my hell, just pee, Megumi,” she told him as her mother laughed through the call.

“Eat-eat!” He then soundlessly calls out. 

Seioni raises an eyebrow as she crosses her arms, “No eat-eat, Megumi doesn’t want to pee!”

“He sounds just like his father. Stubborn as hell,” her mother laughs as she hears her daughter and grandchild from the phone. 

Seioni sighs as she rolls her eyes, but with a slight laugh as she agrees, “Yeah, exactly like his father…” She sighs once again before saying, “Megumi, you get no food until you pee!” She told him.

“Does he do this all the time?”

“Girl, yes. He only listens to Toji. Probably cause’ he’s scary. But he wanna take advantage of his ‘Oni’,” Seioni rolls her eyes. 

Megumi’s eyes were wide as a look of horror came across his face. He refused to pee, but he also wanted to eat. He’d only just recently gotten rid of his bottles and had been eating actual, solid food now. 

He began to pout heavily, tears slowly gathering in his eyes before he replied with a quiet, “Oni’, Hungry.” as he held his belly, as if to further his point.

Although she tried to get better with not allowing his cries to defeat her, she couldn’t help but soften at that olive toned face going red in the cheeks, swelling as his doe eyes dropped tears. 

She then muttered into the phone, “Fuckin’ hell, Momma, I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

Seioni’s mother chuckles over the line, hearing the annoyance in her daughter’s voice. “Okay,” she replies, “You better make sure Toji’s big headed ass is sitting with Megumi by the toilet the minute he gets home, you shouldn’t be the only one doing this. You acting like more of a parent then he is!”

“Mom, please don’t start,” Seioni sighs, rolling her eyes as that was probably the twentieth time her mother told her that, “Goodbye, Mom. I love you.”

“I love you too, baby,” her mother replies as if she didn’t just throw shade at her fiancè, “Talk to you later. Bye, Megumi.”

The sound of her mom’s soft voice nearly makes her want to begin crying like Megumi, missing the warmth that she brings around her. She could be a pain in the ass at times—especially when it came to her feelings about Toji’s constant absence as of recently—but that was her mom regardless. 

Megumi’s attention is pulled away from his tears as he hears her voice through the phone, calling out a small, “Bye, Bye” before Seioni hangs up the call.

Seoni places the phone down, raising her arms as she sighs, “C’mon. Oni’ is sorry, okay? Just need you to pee without your diaper one of these days.”

Megumi slowly lifted himself up from the toilet and pouted more as he muttered, “No potty,” he wasn’t going to give in to her just yet.

She had her own transgressions with the fact that Megumi had a hard time listening to her when it came to potty-training, and it was even more frustrating that the only person he listened to at times was his father. She loved Megumi like he was her own, but she knew that her not actually being his mother might’ve clued into their issues. 

“Eat-eat?” She raises an eyebrow, pulling his pamper up along his hips as she kisses him against his tear filled cheek, standing with a groan as she places him along the side of her hip.

“Eat-eat,” Megumi nodded heavily. 

His little hands clutched along her shirt as he began to sob softly, his pouts becoming more intense. His face began to become more red as tears fell more down his cheeks, staining a part of her shirt.

Seoni let out a sigh—this was gonna be a long night. 

She was halfway successful with her mission of cooking for Toji before he got home, making a wagyu steak with garlic buttered mash potatoes, only able to make a small salad for herself as she couldn’t handle anything too heavy on her stomach. Another thing she couldn’t stop crying about, nearly vomiting anything heavier than salads, sandwiches or liquids. She wasn’t sure what time he was coming home tonight, knowing that his job delved within ‘mafia/criminal’ activity, but never asking what he exactly did, just hoping he got home safely in the process. 

Once she fed Megumi and got him to finally go to sleep, she took the final step in her plans. She took a long shower, shaved her entire body, and lathered herself with baby oil and vanilla scented perfume. 

But as she stood in the baby doll dress, her breast spilled out the sides of the lace fabric, her round belly large  under the sheer gown—all of her insecurities came flooding in the warmth of her cheeks. She felt…unattractive.  

Once she changed into one of Toji’s oversized jerseys, she spent the next hour crying her eyes out, seated on the sofa as she bored into old pictures of herself. She cried so hard that she ended up knocking out, dozing off along the pillows unknowingly that she never took into account how late Toji finally came home. 

He was always terrible at entering the house. Heavy boots thumped along the floor, a low curse echoing along the walls as he stepped on one of Megumi’s toys trying to come inside. Due to her being a light sleeper, Seioni’s eyes slowly blank open, reflexively holding her belly as she looks at her fiancè. Toned arms, muscles bulging through his shirt as that dragon tattoo trailed around his left hand, now crawling under his shoulder and down his back. Dark hair and matching furrowed eyebrows frowned as he appeared behind the door, scarred lip twitching as his eyes fell over her figure. 

Seeing this man was like seeing him for the first time. Its like he’d almost gotten bigger in height and broadness, almost having to slouch for her consideration. Steel gray eyes were deadly, glares and stoic appearance making her want to melt within a constant.  A small scowl plays along his mouth—per usual—eyes flickering from the toy he just stepped on to the woman sleeping on the couch, journal nearly falling from her grasp as she begins to wake up. 

As soon as his eyes met hers though, his heart warmed a bit, relaxing slightly as his deep voice gruffly called, “Baby... What are you doing sleeping on the couch? You’re supposed to be in bed.” 

He takes his leather jacket off and slings it over the table, pausing as he picks it back up to hang along the coat rack by the door before Seioni can choke him out about it. He's already making his way over to her flawlessly beautiful figure, dark hair sticking along her toffee face as she adjusted to reawakening, feeling as her legs are being gently pulled over his lap. 

Her voice is soft and immensely quiet, “I…dozed off, uh…writing baby names. Remembering what the doctor told me,” she runs her fingers through her dark hair as she sighs, “Hi, Daddy.”

He gives a rumbling chuckle as he glances down at the journal, looking at her words before he glances back up to her, pulling her more onto his lap instead, “Hey, Mama,” he muttered back, his large hand lightly resting against her belly. 

“You’re pushing yourself too hard, aren’t you?” 

“Today was by default. Megumi gave me the blues trying to potty train him again, but I did end up making dinner for you,” she wraps her arms around his neck, feeling the warmth of his palms on her hips.

Toji lets out a small huff, “‘Boy is just as hard headed as I am, you know that. You’ll tire yourself out more trying to get him to do something he doesn’t want to do.” He gently pulled her closer, her legs on either side of his lap, wrapping an arm around her hips. 

“What’d you make? I’m starving,” he grunted out, his hand rubbing her hip, massaging it lightly.

“Wagyu steak and garlic mash potatoes, how Muffin likes it,” she playfully rolls her eyes, giggling as she feels his palm lightly smack along her ass from the nickname.

In regular fashion, he quickly grumbles, “I keep telling your ass I’m not your damn Muffin.” 

He then chuckled, “Smartass, but you know me so goddamn well, beautiful,” he teased nonetheless, giving her a grin as his hand rested comfortably along her hips. 

“Just like I know that you like being my Muffin, hm?” 

“Stop talking to me. Anyways, you know if you’re going to go through the effort of cooking, I need to go through the effort to reward you afterwards,” he travels his hand upward as he digs his fingers into her hair to clutch her forward, lips sucking the skin of her neck into his mouth. 

It made her sigh breathlessly, her face warm as a small giggle pulled from her lips, “Don’t I get a reward for just being the love of your life?”

He chuckled as he pulled away from her neck, his lips just centimeters away from hers as he told her, “It never ends with you, does it, woman? Always needing more from me.”

The constant realization with their lack of intimacy hits her again, a chill coursing down Seioni’s spine at the thought. But another chill came as she remembered not feeling as attractive as she usually did. She can tell that Toji feels her body tense, hoping he doesn’t press her reaction—she really didn’t want to end the night off in an argument about her own self conflicts. 

She nearly sighs in appreciation as he slows his movements down, hearing as he asks, “How was the doctor?” 

She raises her eyes as she squints, “The doctor called you today, Fushiguro. I’m assuming you missed it due to work.”

Toji nearly groaned at the news of her saying that the doctor called. He’d meant to answer them, but as of recently work had been busier. 

“Damn it, I knew I forgot something.” He muttered out, lightly pinching his nose, “What did they call about?”

“He wanted to tell you about my high blood pressure,” she lightly trails her finger along his arm, the dragon along the veined skin shining under the living room light.

His head raised up, “What’s causing you to have high blood pressure?” 

“He said I could just be stressing myself out, which—I know I am. He prescribed me Lexapro, I think I might try it out for a couple of days, see how it makes me feel.” 

She can practically feel the frown on his face before she sees it, keeping her eyes away from him as she attempts to move herself off of his lap. Key word, attempted. 

“You’re not taking those.”

She raises her eyebrows, “The doctor told me they were safe, Toji. I don’t think he’d give me anything if he knew I couldn’t take it.”

“You think I give a fuck about what the doctor said?” 

She rolls her eyes, not ready to go back and forth with him as his arm tightens around her hips, his fingers digging a bit harder into her curves as he speaks, “If it’s not a damn prenatal, I don’t want you taking anything else. I’m not risking shit happening to you. There’s better ways to control your blood pressure.”

“Like what? Not stressing myself? That’s easier said than done. Who else wouldn’t be stressed if they had a baby in their terrible twos, a baby in their belly—then planning a wedding and baby shower all at once?” She raises an eyebrow.

“What the fuck does that have to do with you taking some dumbass shit like Lexapro? You can do all of that without medication, Seioni.” 

“Oh bite me,” she snarls, “Don’t go all government on me. You still haven’t answered my question.”

“These are issues that can be easily resolved. I’m waiting for your point.”

“Easily resolved?” Her hand quickly latches to pull his arm off of her, his hand becoming more firm as he holds onto her before his mouth fires off, “Seioni. Don’t fuckin’ play with me right now, move your hand.” 

“Boy, fuck off! Who the hell are you to tell me what I can’t take? My father?”

“Boy?” He raises his own eyebrow, full lips and scar twitching in her defiance. 

When she’s finally able to get him to loosen his grip,  she tries to hide her grunt as she has to hold her back and belly all at once to properly stand, struggling as she does so before successfully coming off of his lap. 

The minute she began getting up, his hands went immediately to her hips to hold her in his lap, a very deep frown on his face as he spoke in a dark tone, “Don’t give me that bullshit, woman. I’m your goddamn husband, that’s why I’m saying it—And you can’t even get up to stand by yourself, you can barely even move without grunting in pain, sit the hell down.”

“I can do stuff on my own!” She exclaims, crossing her arms, “Don’t act like I’m helpless, bastard. I’m just saying that maybe Lexapro wouldn’t make me so neurotic.”

“I’m not saying you’re helpless. I’m just saying that your body is not the same as it was before you were pregnant,” he grumbled back, the vein in his forehead throbbing as he spoke. He looked directly down at her arms, seeing how she crossed them across her chest as he continued, “We don’t need anymore side effects happening to you or the baby because you’re wanting some antidepressant. You don’t need those, you need to sit your ass down and take a damn break. This is why your blood pressure is high.”

“Well how about you make me less stressed by helping me out? You wanna be tied up in your stupid ass job all the time, how wouldn’t I be stressed?” She narrows her eyes.

There it is, the argument he’d been avoiding this entire time. He knew that she was upset about the time he’d been spending at work, but work was important to him. He wanted to be able to take care of her and Megumi in more ways than imagined. 

“Don’t act like I just work for shits and fuckin’ giggles.”

“Don’t make me feel like I’m supposed to be satisfied with that ! I’m asking you to at least seem interested when I talk to you about these things. Wedding, baby shower, baby names! Anytime I bring it up you blow me off about it—using the excuse that you just want to make sure I do everything I want for both events, but in reality you just don’t wanna do shit for them!” She clocks him, swatting his arms away in an attempt to touch her.

The vein in his forehead turned into a headache as she continued speaking, her words hitting at his pride. He was beginning to get incredibly pissed as she continued.

“I don’t want to do anything for it because those things aren’t about me, it’s about you and the baby. What kind of man do you think I would be if I didn’t allow you to plan your own gender reveal, your own baby shower, your own wedding, your own goddamn baby gifts? I don’t do anything to help but I’m giving you the reigns here.”

“Well maybe I’d like my fiancè to seem slightly excited about these events, to just give me some type of showing that you care!”

“You’re really doing this right now?” He blinks, “You know I care. If I didn’t I wouldn’t give a fuck about all this stupid-girly shit,” he blows a breath, sucking his teeth, “Shit. Maybe you do need the goddamn Lexapro.” 

Similar to Megumi, another newfound part of her pregnancy was the way that she could instantly cry on cue, almost like a baby. To hear his words instantly hurt her feelings. 

She didn’t mean to give the reaction she did, but everything began hitting her all at once. His words, the doctor's words, her own words. A pout came to her lips, her eyes welling with tears as she pressed her hands to her face, “I just feel so …overwhelmed.”

The minute she began to cry, Toji tensed immediately. He absolutely hated it when she cried, and her pregnancy definitely didn't help him on that end at all. He was about to respond but another sniffle came from her, and then followed by another, and another, he groaned.

"Oh jesus... Stop crying, please, you know I hate this shit..." he grumbled softly, his large hands lightly rubbing at her hips to try and soothe her.

That made her full on sob, her face red as her cheeks swelled, her hands over her face as she cried, “I c—can’t do this alone. I miss my family, I wish they were here to help me with these things. Megumi is giving me a hard time, I—I can’t keep any food down, I can’t fit any of my clothes, I feel like a fucking ugly fat whale.”

He could feel how his shirt got damp, tears staining it from her crying, but he couldn’t care less as he held her against him. Despite the pregnancy, she still felt so small in his grip, and it reassured him that although his words could be mean, he was always there to comfort her.

His head laid against the top of her head as he muttered softly, “You're not alone. You have me, okay? You have me—your…Muffin,” he almost vomited at his words, “ And Meggie, we’re here. You're not alone, babydoll.”

“But you’re always workinggg,” she sobs, hiding her face within his chest as she cries even harder, nearly unable to breath as tears drop heavily from her face.

“Baby, you gotta calm down.”

He tried soothing her as his hand began gently trying to brush away some of the tears falling down her face. Her sobbing was beginning to worry him, she was crying too damn hard. 

“I know you’re upset about the amount of time I’ve been working but—baby, I’m just tryna’ handle shit for us,” he was trying to rationalize with her, but it was very difficult to do so when she was crying.

“M—Maybe y—you just don’t want me or this baby,” she trembles.

Toji quickly grips her face, pulling her tear streaked cheeks to stare up at him as he pulls her forward, “Cut this shit out,” a firm, dark tone, “I want you more than anything with this baby. Quit saying bullshit like that. I think you’re the prettiest, Oni’. You’re lucky I can’t fuck the shit out of you right now.” 

She takes another deep breath, unable to stop herself from crying. The waterworks flowed, keeping her face in her hands as she quivered, “‘M sorry. I’m just so scared. I can’t even get Megumi to pee in the toilet. How am I gonna be a good mother? W—what if I can’t do this?” more tears appear along her face, nearly having to catch her breath from her tearful attack.

He could feel the way she was shaking and quivering from crying, and it only continued to make him feel guilty. Her words hurt, but it hurt even more when she began doubting herself.

“You’re going to be a great mom,” he muttered with an assurance, his hand lightly moving across her face, trying to brush away the tears. “Megumi’s just stubborn, baby. You’ll be able to get him eventually, it just takes time. 

You’re doing great. You’re doing just fine, okay?”

His words make her feel slightly better. She knew that she was doing better than most, and maybe being so critical was another cause of her stress. She knew she was going to be the best mother she could be, she just had to believe that. Especially with Toji’s support. She wraps her arms around his shoulders as she shoves her face within his neck, sniffling as she tries to control her breathing. 

She then muffled, “I—I love you.”

He placed his chin along the top of her head, his hand gently clutching at the back of her hair. “I love you too, beautiful. I love you so damn much.”

“Even when I’m a crying mess?” She mutters, feeling the grumble of his chuckle along her body.

“Even when you’re a complete mess, I still love you. You’re still my gorgeous, loveable mess, baby,” he reassured, placing a gentle kiss along the top of her head, “I meant what I said. You’ in my jersey is gonna get you fucked up,” he grunts, the arousement of this man never failing.

She rolls her eyes against his damp shirt, lightly swatting his arm as she utters, “Hush.”

The comfort and reassurance of this man was like no other— she couldn’t ask for a better upcoming husband. Through all of that, she feels her body becoming tired again after the waterworks, laying herself deeper into him as she lets a moment of silence go between them. Despite their disagreements, she loved him endlessly. 

“Baby?” She asks softly. 

“Yeah?”

“Can I have some of your steak?” 

“Is it gonna make you vomit and then cry after you vomit?”

“…Yes.” 

“Then no.” 

                     ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 𐦍༘⋆ ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 𐦍༘⋆

AS A COUPLE OF WEEKS HAD PASSED, Seioni had  come to the revelation that the only thing she’d do from now on was enjoy this pregnancy. With that, she requested instead of taking Lexapro to receive something for her morning sickness. Toji’s stubbornness subsided at the thought of her being able to eat, to which he painfully agreed on the medication.

All this man wanted to do was make his woman happy. He wanted to withhold the surprise he had for her and Megumi, but knowing that not allowing his fiancè to do her ‘girly-shit’ in preparation for an upcoming vacation to Maui, Hawaii, she’d go into labor if she couldn’t buy a whole new wardrobe.  

She was like a child when it came to her excitement—if only her fiancè and his son were as equally elated in her process. She enjoyed every single swipe of his card, outfits, getting her hair done, pampering herself in preparation to be along the beach. She dragged Toji and Megumi all around the mall with her, finding outfits for them as well—ignoring the looks shared between the son and father, impatient and only wanting to be curled up next to her at home. But as he watched her stare within the mirror as she tried on two-piece bikinis, not giving a damn about her round belly, shopping wasn’t as bad as he made it to be—he was now excited. 

The day finally came as they were at the bustling airport. Seioni pulled her bohemian braids behind her ear, more human hair than anything flowing in between the individuals as her brown skin was lightly russet within the face, her freckle’s almost making her look sun kissed. She wore a ballerina pink baby tee, matching yoga pants and her hello kitty sandals, trying to carry her own personal bag on her shoulder as she gave a polite nod to the airport worker after showing her passport. Toji could’ve nearly snatched that bag off of her shoulder, almost glaring at her for attempting to carry something as heavy as her bag. 

“I had it,” she said softly, rolling her eyes.

He grumbled, raising an eyebrow at her eye-roll as he shifted the strap along his shoulder, allowing her to walk in front of him. He was like a guard dog, ready to pounce at any moment as she spun around in her dream land.

“And you say I’m stubborn,” Toji mutters. 

She raises an eyebrow, “You’ talkin’ shit over there?” Taking Megumi’s small hand within hers, pulling him as he waddled down the line towards TSA. 

“Do you want me to repeat myself in a louder tone?”

She shot daggers at him, eyebrows frowning down as she nearly flung Megumi to turn towards him, “You know what, as a matter of fact, I do!” 

“You better waddle your ass to TSA and stop talking to me.” 

“I don’t wanna have to smack your ass in this damn airport, Fushiguro,” she glares.

“That’s even if you could get to me in time!” 

“Oh! You’re tryna’ be funny! How about I roll over to you?! Bastard!—“ 

“You better stop talking to that man like that, Seioni!” 

She halts. Her attitude is on high alert as she thinks—who the hell is talking to her and why did they know her name?

 Her body fully turns as she searches for the voice that becomes familiar the more it echoes in her mind. Her heart nearly falls in her ass as she sees the familiar smile that she holds within her own face, her mother standing on the other side of the airport as well as her father, brother and aunt.

 Her eyes go wide as she shockingly calls, “Momma?!” 

Her eyes turn to Toji, seeing the smile that suppresses within his face. He knew that she was having a hard time with this pregnancy, so he thought surprising her with her family joining them on the trip would make her smile. He knew she hadn’t seen them in a while due to them living in a different city. 

She releases Megumi’s hand as she takes off for them, Toji calling, “Oni’!” scared she would fall, watching as she waddles quickly over to them, gripping her mother into the tightest hug she could’ve given her. 

“Oh my god,” she cried, tears immediately coming down her face, “What are you— when did you—how are you guys here?” She cried, looking between all of her family members, unable to stop herself from the waterworks.

The minute she began crying, her mother was shushing her gently with a light laugh, “Oh no, no, don’t cry, babygirl. We just wanted to surprise you, since we know you’ve been having a hard time lately.”

Her mother was lightly rubbing her back as her father spoke up next, “Your fiancé told us that you could use some moral support right now, we were more than happy to come see you. He paid for our flights here and to Maui.” 

“You didn’t tell us your fiancè had all this damn munyun, sis,” her brother calls from behind, a smirk along his face.

She scrunches her nose at her brother as she fires, “Don’t be ghetto, act like you’ve been around some money before.” 

“Yo’ daddy!” Nova rebuttals. 

“Aye! I’m nowhere near broke!” Her father, Noel protests. 

“Did you pay for this trip, broke-boy?” Her mother playfully insights to her husband, crossing her arms with a raised eyebrow, “I recall you only buying a neck pillow for the flight.” 

“Saanaá, please. You bought a matching one!” 

“And did! Celeste bought a third!” She points out. 

“And did! In my business? Mind yours, anyways, he does seem to have heavy ass pockets. What he do’ for work?” The aunt playfully instigates, Toji and Seioni quickly replying in an exhale, “Contractor.” 

Toji’s instantly amused by her family dynamic. He was unable to do anything but chuckle as she turns towards him, “You really did this?” Sniffling as she smacks his arm, “You did. You bastard.” 

Toji now had Megumi along his hip, nearly stumbling as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pecking his lips multiple times while still crying throughout her happiness.

“Is this the little Megumi?” Her aunt playfully gasps. 

 Megumi giggles as he raises his arms into hers, surprisingly going right into her embrace which makes her happily cheer. Toji almost had to blink twice. 

“Well come on people, our flight is gonna start boarding soon!” The mom calls, taking the hand of her husband as the aunt giggles excitedly with Megumi in her hands, Seioni’s brother helping with the bags as he follows behind.

 She turns to Toji as she wraps her arms around his neck, “You’re such a sweetie when you wanna be, y’know that? Always putting on this scary act and you’re just a little teddy bear. My muffin.” 

“You think I’m a teddy bear, huh?” He teased lightly, one of his hands lightly resting along the small of her back, holding her close to him. “Don’t be fuckin’ cute. I’m only soft for you.” 

“Looks like somebody's tryna’ get on my good side, hm?” 

She stood on her toes, dragging her tongue along his jaw before sucking his lips into her mouth, making him grunt lowly, “Don’t get me put on the no flight list, Seioni.” 

She giggles, “Bad boy. We’re with my family!” She teases, giggling as she tries to pull away, “The baby can hear you,” she places her hand along her belly.

“She’s gonna feel something if you don’t stop playing,” he threatens along her lips, hearing as she shockingly giggles, swatting his arm before she begins pulling him towards their gate, “Let’s go!” 

The flight had gone by quickly—at least for Seioni, she fell asleep before the plane even took off. Toji spent most of his time hovering the phone over to Megumi to keep him quiet, seeing as he became fussy from having to be stuck in one place for a long period of time. Her mom and aunt were also asleep, her brother and father engrossed in a movie they were both watching at the same time.

He couldn’t help but sigh as both Seioni and Megumi gripped along his body to comfortably sleep, Toji barely unable to move at this point. The tired laugh that fell from his lips was inevitable.

The minute that he felt like he’d dozed off, they arrived in Maui. His jet-lagged physique made him feel like his eyes were shutting by themselves, but to see the excitement of his fiancè as she pulled him through the airport, he figured he’d sleep another time. The sun was shining brighter than they’d ever experienced as they made it outside, the flowers were blooming and the trees were vibrantly green—it was almost overwhelming.

“We were only on the plane for an hour but yet my ass feels like it’s been sitting in a seat for hours,” he mutters, his voice tired. It felt like his chest had been filled with concrete; the only thing keeping him focused was the pure, raw excitement that his fiancè showed. 

“Awe, you need a massage?” Seioni questions, rubbing the side of his neck as he attempts to pick up her luggage, his and Megumi’s. 

“Don’t be tryna’ soften me up and shit” he points out, Seioni pouting as she says, “Moi? Softening you up? How dare you.” 

Toji huffs as she continues to rub at the side of his neck, the action making him want to just collapse into her body and fall asleep. 

“What do you want, woman?”

“Your love and affection?” She bats her eyelashes, “You've been working  so hard. Nova, come get these bags before I punch you! My man is doing all the damn work!” She calls for her brother, wrapping her arms around Toji as she pecks his jaw.

“Stop yelling at me, fucker.”

Both siblings raise their middle fingers to each other, Toji having to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep himself from laughing at the sight. 

He feels her arms wrapping around his body, subconsciously holding her a bit tighter against him as he grumbles, “Yeah, okay.”

When they walked into what essentially seems to be a villa, the sight was beautiful. The inside walls were brown, minimalist beige furniture with a large kitchen. There were multiple rooms, an opening that led out to a personal pool, fruits, finger foods plastered around the kitchen island to welcome the family in the house.

“Dammnn, Toji. You’ did good!” Saanaà calls, the aunt agreeing, “This shit is bougie. You’ must really love Oni’!” 

“She’s aight!,” her brother Nova comments, the dad intervening, “Don’t be mad cause you don’t have a woman to do this for.”

“That’s if he had the money!” Aunt Celeste clowns on him, everyone laughing as Nova smacks his lips, carrying their bags upstairs.

“Let’s go to the beach! I need to see the sun set.”

“Ooh, and to see the fine men on the beach!” Her aunt agreed with her moms statement. 

“That too,” Saanaà nods her head, Noel then saying, “You’ tryna be funny, married woman?” With a raised eyebrow.

“Oh boy, don’t start. Y’know I love you…but I also love  looking at fine men!” 

Seioni rolls her eyes with a soft laugh, then saying, “As much as I’d love to watch you two act an ass on this beach, I’m feeling a little nauseated from the plane ride,” she places her hand over her belly, feeling her feet becoming heavier as she stands. Toji immediately wraps his arm around her, steadying as he knows her feet hurt at times.

“You alright, baby?” Toji is immediately concerned, having the urge to pick her up to keep her feet off of the ground.

“Do you need us to stay with you?” Her mom asks, now becoming equally worried. 

She shakes her head, “No—actually, take Megumi with you, if that’s okay. I’d love for him to see the water. Let him spend some time with y’all, Toji can stay here and make sure I don’t roll down the stairs,” she weakly jokes, pulling her hair behind her ear tiredly.

Her mom nods her head in agreement, looking over at Toji with a curious look, “You don’t mind?” 

Toji shrugs his shoulders, “Nah. I can stay here and make sure she doesn’t hurt herself,” he half-jokes, shifting so her body can lean more so on his own.

“Okay, we’ll be back soon. Let’s go, Meggie!” Her aunt picks up the small two-year old, watching as he giggled, wrapping his arms around her neck. 

All in her plan. Once the family exits out the house, Toji looks down as he notices the grin she tries to suppress. He raises an eyebrow, realizing she had been trying to find a reason to get her family out of the house without actually having to ask.

“You’re a terrible actor,” he hums, “You just wanted me all to yourself? Selfish ass.” 

“Mhmmm,” she hums back, happy as can be, tugging him towards the master bedroom. 

It was more beautiful than she imagined. A crisp white bed next to a walk in shower, green marble in the structure of the walls. As they look out to the balcony, there’s a clawfoot tub that looks out into the beauty of the green trees, a sight that she could look at forever. 

She felt a pang in her chest as she was now alone with him, as if this wasn’t her fiancée that’d she’d been with for the past two years. He knew every part of her body, so why was she afraid to show it? 

She faced the wall of the shower as she undressed. Toji instantly notices how she refuses to look at herself, but says nothing. He didn’t wanna cause an argument— at least for now. 

The tub is now filled, flower petals drenched beneath the warm water, multicolored and ethereal to their eyes. Seioni leans against the top of the tub as she stares out at the horizon, her long bohemian braids claw clipped out of her face, skin bare of makeup as her freckles tattoo against her cheeks and nose. The sunlight beamed against her brown skin, she couldn’t look away from it. Toji was the opposite—he couldn’t look away from her. 

She continued to ramble, “So, I was thinking about baby names again. I had been looking into some Japanese names for a girl, and I saw the name Kiyomi—I thought it was so cute. It’ll fit into our little family, everyone ending in ‘I’s’. Megumi, Seioni, Toji, you get what I’m saying? And then I can give her a little nickname like ‘Omi’ cause it sounds like me! ‘Oni’! Yeah?” 

When she hears no response and realizes she might’ve been talking too much, she stops, noticing the way he leans his head slightly as he stares at her. 

She leans herself into the water as she gives a small 

smile, “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

His gray eyes continued to stare at her, tracing every dip and curve of her body with his gaze as he spoke, “You’re so pretty, baby.”

She rolls her eyes, “Were you even listening?” coming closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck as she comes onto his lap. The warm water engulfs both of their skin.

Toji allows her to adjust herself onto his lap, his arms immediately wrapping around her waist once she is situated. He hums as he buries his face into the crook of her neck, his lips attaching to her warm throat.

“I was listening,” he murmurs, “Nozomi is a nice name, perfect for a pretty little girl. Just like her momma.”

He continues to press kisses against her skin, teeth gently nipping at the skin of her shoulder. She sighs, feeling that she wanted to have a conversation about what was going on in her head. But she knew that Toji wouldn’t be too happy to hear the unhappiness she felt, and she didn’t want to ruin the trip. 

“You’ve been all quiet on me since we got here,” she says quietly, “I miss you. Are you feeling…overwhelmed with my family?”

He chuckles, “Nah, I’m good, Mama. I’m just a little tired. We’ve been traveling for hours and your family is on ten at all times. It’s just different.” 

He presses a gentle kiss against her exposed collarbone, “Plus, I’ve been looking forward to being alone with you.”

Her mind wracks at that. She knows they need some time together, without Megumi’s constant whining and crying, without her family regardless of this trip. She thought back to the doctor's words of intimacy, the thought feeling almost virginal to her. She felt…not like herself. She wasn’t looking for a pep talk about confidence. But this belly and the changes in her body, she wasn’t used to it. 

She pulls him closer, letting the petals flow around them within the tub as she asks, “You’d tell me if they were getting on your nerves, right?”

Toji allows her to pull him closer, his arms fully wrapping around her back as he presses a kiss against her shoulder. He chuckled softly at her question, “Your family is cool as fuck. But this conversation isn’t gonna stop you from saying what’s actually wrong with you.” 

She feels the intensity in his stare. Blowing out a breath at the question, her eyes fall back down. This was the time to be vulnerable, but as said before, she didn’t want a scolding in response. 

She shakes her head as she lies somewhat, “Just nervous about the family thing. They can be kinda…controlling?”

His eyebrows furrow, “Don’t lie to me.” 

“I’m not,” she lies again, “So you aren’t worried about getting into it with them? You have a mouth on you.”

Toji gives her a look, knowing that she was bullshitting him. There was definitely more to what she was saying than she was letting on. 

“Nope,” he responds instead, “I do have a mouth on me, but I’m a grown ass man, I know how to— what do you’ be saying? Keep it cute? I’m hip as fuck!” 

“Oh god,” she giggles, wrapping her arms tightly around him, ignoring his chuckle that buried into her shoulder blade. 

Another thought passes of wanting to be upfront with him. But the atmosphere, their moment together—it was too beautiful to ruin. She just hoped he didn’t push about it, knowing that he could read anything on her face. 

“Do you know how much I love you?” She questions, kissing his jaw, pecking his nose, even along his cheeks.

His eyes dart over her face as she begins to pepper all over his cheeks with kisses. She attempts to act cutesy in order to distract him from the question, knowing all too well that she’s doing so. She was good at it too. 

He sighs as a small smirk forms on his face, “Nah, do you know how I love you?” he responds.

“Mmm, as much as the moon loves the stars within the sky?” She cheekily responds, pressing her forehead against his, feeling his hand press gently along her stomach.

Toji chuckles and rolls his eyes at her dorky response, one of his hands gently rubbing at her stomach while the other rests on her hip. He smirks at her, “Corny ass. I love you more than that.” 

When he kisses her, it feels breathless as he holds her jaw while sucking his lips into her mouth, as if it had more meaning behind it. When he pulled back, the warmth against her face and the dumb smile along it wouldn’t falter. She loved this man. 

“Now, back to the name game. I’m thinking Toji Jr, or Megumi-Toji-Jr, or, Toji-Megumi-Jr, yeah?” 

Seioni rolls her eyes. She loves him, even if he was a damn idiot. 

As the sun sets along the island, Seioni and Toji meet the rest of her family out towards the beach, a family dinner now taking place. Her black baby tee and a long matching skirt that draped down to her ankles, orchid sandals and a matching flower along the side of her hair made her feel somewhat decent—even if she kept glancing down at her stomach— She waved excitedly as everyone cheered when they arrived, Toji holding her hand behind her to make sure she didn’t trip within the sand. 

He was like a baby, wanting to have a tantrum when she asked him to wear a Hawaiian button up, the man wanting to die before he put on patterned clothes. Instead she got him to wear a pair of black and white flowered swimming trunks, white long sleeve clinging to his broad frame—he still wasn’t entirely happy about it.

The group had set up a makeshift table on the sand, chairs and a checkered picnic blanket set out. The sun was setting, the ocean and sky turning into a blend of oranges and pinks, the scene quite breathtaking. 

The family sat around the table, eating and making small talk. Toji leaned into the seat, his body relaxed and his hand rested on Seioni’s lower back. Despite them being his soon to be in-laws, Toji found her family entertaining enough, able to keep him interested with their banter back and forth.

Hula dancers suddenly appeared as they all talked, their villa's host also appearing as he welcomed them to Maui. The family was amazed as some of the girls performed fire tricks, their hips moving in ways that were more than talented. It wasn’t too long before Megumi stood from where he sat next to Seioni and Toji and played in the sand, running up to them as he began to dance—which was jumping around in a baby’s attempts to find rhythm, giggling as the hula girls smiled at him.

The family laughed at the adorable sight before them, Toji chuckling at the little dancing Megumi, jumping around and babbling. It was extremely cute, the hula dancers all smiling and waving at the little boy. 

“Don’t think you got those moves from your non-rhythm ass daddy, huh?” Seioni’s aunt giggled. 

“Not too much! I have rhythm!” Toji defends himself, Seioni giggling beside him. 

Everyone was now up— her brother flirting his way into getting one of the Hula girls' numbers, her mom pulling her dad up to dance with her, and her aunt recording Megumi as she shouted, “Go Meg! Go Meg!” 

Seioni hadn’t felt this happy in a while. As she turned her head to kiss Toji, a hula girl came forward, pulling her up off the sand to dance with her, trying to teach her the movement of her hips. 

Seioni giggled, her cheeks warm as she followed, raising her hands above her body as she twisted her hips to follow the music that played.

Toji couldn’t help but smile at her as he watched her follow along with the hula girl. Her body moved in a fluid motion, hips twisting and swaying. Toji’s smile only grew wider, the joy and twinkle in her eyes making his heart skip in his chest. She looked so happy and so free, as if nothing in the world could get in her way. 

His eyes darkened in a different way as he watched how she looked in her tight skirt and top, the way it hugged her curves. He loved her in more ways than one, but at times it felt like he was digging his nails into the surface, trying to hold back a side of him she knew the first night she’d met him. He was becoming impatient, and he was an extremely patient man.

Seioni was now dancing with Megumi, spinning him around playfully. When her Aunt Celeste wanted the baby all to herself, Seioni brought her attention back towards Toji as she leaned down with her arms out, gesturing for him to dance with her.

Toji rolled his eyes slightly as he was pulled to his feet, his hand gripping her as their bodies pressed close together. He chuckled, wrapping one arm around her hips while his other hand gripped hers as they began to sway, his eyes gazing down at her. 

“You really just can’t get enough of me, huh, woman?”

“Never. It’s unfortunate, isn’t it?” 

She sighs, wrapping her arms around his neck, giggling as he pulls her sandals on top of his shoes, twisting her around and holding her up by them. He leans down as he brings his lips to her neck, a small gasp leaving her lips as she feels his palm slam on her ass, pulling her eyes up as she shrieks, “Fushiguro!”

“Don’t act like that. They know how you got pregnant in the first place.” 

“I’m putting a muzzle on you for the rest of the time here,” she tells him, “You’re not being good.”

His eyebrow raises, mischief glistening in his eyes as he chuckles at the threat. He leans in closer, his nose almost bumping against hers. 

“Let me start barking then.”

She rolls her eyes, leaning her face up to kiss him, “Keep talking shit, maybe I’ll put a muzzle on my mouth and you’ll be using that hand all week.”

He raises an eyebrow, “A muzzle on you, huh? That’s some freaky shit. Ooh, girl, you’re nasty.”

Seioni giggles as he fully picks her up and spins her around, kissing away their entire conversation. The family spent hours along the beach, the night nearly going into dawn when they made it back to the villa. Toji felt like he’d been hit by a train, the jet-lag and overall tiredness he felt hitting him all at once as they made their way to bed.

 Megumi was sleeping with Celeste, while Nova and her parents had their own rooms, leaving Toji and Seioni alone to themselves. His hand rubbed her stomach until she fell asleep, finally allowing his own eyes to close once he knew she was comfortable. 

…But just as he was deep within his rest, a knock came pounding at their door. It felt like he’d just closed his eyes. 

“Good morning Love Birds, we’re all going to breakfast!” 

Her mom calls through the door. When she doesn’t hear anything, she knocks again. Still silent. She then makes the decision to open the door without asking permission, walking towards the bed as she tugged at the covers along their feet.

“I know y’all hear me!”

Seioni groans softly, her eyes blinking open to see her mom standing at the end of the bed. She says to her softly, “Hi, mommy.”

As she turns, she sees Toji is also awake—practically giving her mom the death stare, his eyes only peeking above the covers, pulling Seioni closer to him. 

“The fuck?” he grumbled, still glaring.

“Toji,” she scolded softly, tapping his chest at his reaction, “We’ll be down there in a minute, mom.”

“‘The fuck I am,” he disagreed under his breath, deepening himself under the covers.

“Hurry up! I love me some French toast, it’ll be gone in seconds!”

With that, her mom slams the door, Toji almost wanting to throw something against the wall at all the loud sounds imploding his ears.

Seioni sighs, running a hand over her face as she murmurs, “What time is it?”

“Too early to be having motherfuckers slamming the door open talking about some dumb ass French toast,” Toji mutters back, immensely irritated. 

“Hey, that’s my momma you’re talking about, jackass. Tighten up,” she flicks his nose, “Why are you so grumpy? You’ literally get up at the ass crack of dawn to go to work. What’s so different now?”

“Because? I’m not at work right now?” His voice held a grumpy tone, obviously not amused by her mother’s sudden appearance. 

His eyes narrowed as he looked up at her, “How the hell can you even act so calm right now? You hate your sleep being interrupted.”

“Because we’re on vacation and should enjoy every moment we have together, Fushiguro,” she pulls his face up to meet hers, squeezing his cheeks as she says, “Lighten up, Muffin?” 

His hands reach up to take a hold of her wrists, his irritation only building, “No.” he says firmly. 

“Mean ass,” she insults, “Maybe you do need some breakfast.”

His eyes peek open at that. When he glances down at her appearance, scarf around her hair and in his jersey, the vanilla spray she spritzed on herself before they went to sleep inhaled his senses—this is when he found her most attractive. 

Maybe he did need to relax. His eyes darken as he comes closer, his lips along her neck as he sucks at the skin, coming up as he latches a kiss against her mouth. 

He grunts, “You’re right. Open your fuckin’ legs, I’m hungry.” 

Her body tenses up as he kisses her, his hand along her belly making her want to squirm. What if she wasn’t as seductive as she used to be? 

She was doing her best to keep up with him, that much he knew. He could feel it in the kisses, the way her body reacted to his touch. But she wasn’t fully giving herself to him. He wanted more from her. He needed that hunger that he knew she was holding back—He needed her to be as desperate as he was. 

He let out a low growl between their kisses, clutching her hair within his fingers as he tugged her head back, licking the skin of her throat. She whimpers softly, “Toji…”

“Quit holding back,” he murmurs against her skin. He can feel her breath hitch again, her body trembling in his grip, “Let me make you feel good.”

A soft moan comes from her lips as she grabs his hair in her fingers, head falling back as she tries to relax her body. For a moment she felt okay. But when she notices how he has to hover over her to not hit her belly, her insecurities come crumbling onto her. 

It was also right on time, another knock coming to the door as her mom calls, “I know y’all don’t want me to bust in this damn room again!” 

She stopped him. Pressing her hand against his jaw to push him back, she says softly, “Maybe we should just go get breakfast.”

Knock, knock, knock. 

His eyes narrow, irritation returning, this time for a completely different reason. This was the last thing he wanted. He was finally getting somewhere with her, she was finally letting herself go, and now they were being interrupted again. 

“Fuckin’ hell.” 

She sighs, “I don’t need the house cussing us out, everyone has to eat together in my family,” she briefly explains, “Plus…my belly is kinda…in the way…” 

She brushes her self deprecating thoughts away as she sighs, “Lets just go.” 

“‘The fuck are you talking about?”

She ignores that question. Now standing from the bed, she removes her scarf as her braids come falling around her face, edges still sculpted perfectly as she pulls on some house slippers, going to the bathroom to brush her teeth.

His eyes follow her as she stands, his mood now more than just sour. She really thinks that his thoughts have changed because of a baby bump? He loves her, and nothing about her looks or her body would ever change that. 

But just like her—he wasn’t in the mood to argue. He swings himself off the bed, running a hand through his messy black hair. His irritation grew the more he thought about her comment.

When they finally make their way into the kitchen's dining area, Seioni politely greets the workers as they place their food against the table, Toji glaring behind her as he sits, quickly greeting the family, “Morning.” 

He sees Megumi sitting at the table with Celeste, rubbing his eyes as he whines softly. When he sees Toji, he raises his arms up, the first time of him wanting his father’s attention since they’ve been here.

He looks to her aunt, “Did you wake him up?”

“We did. Eating together is tradition, that includes sleeping babies! We woke Seioni and Nova up every morning around this time to eat breakfast, tired or not. You have to get used to getting up early,” Saanaà tells him. 

“He has trouble sleeping, I don’t need him waking up if he’s finally asleep. That makes him irritated throughout the day, and he won’t stop fussing,” Toji says, voice filled with annoyance from what Seioni could read. She lightly places her hand over his.

Her touch manages to calm him down a bit, although his irritation was still there. He was just happy that at least she was calm, he didn’t want her stress levels to go up.

“He’ll be okay, nothing a pacifier can’t fix!” Her aunt then chimes in, an uncomfortable tension now in the air. 

Seioni then lightly passes, “We’re trying to get him off the pacifier, Aunt Celeste.” 

Her mom takes a fork, digging it into her toast as she shrugs, “He’s a baby. No need to do all that extra shit and go by his schedule, you’re the parent. He’s gonna cry regardless. Let him.”

Seioni presses her lips into her mouth. Here they go, she thought.

 As she went to respond to that, Toji leaned forward as Megumi still had his hands out for him, the two year old whining as he cradled into his fathers arms. He leaned his head against his shoulder with his thumb now in his mouth.

How was she going to tell him how to raise his own fucking kid? 

Seioni looks to her father and brother, knowing how her aunt and mom could be. They thankfully catch her quiet call for help as Noel says, “So, what’s the plans for today, Oni’?” 

“I was thinking me and Toji could look at some venues in Maui, I really am thinking about a wedding along the beach, as long as it isn’t too hot,” she tells them with a soft smile, clutching her fingers in Toji’s that’s under the table, feeling the tense in his body. 

“You’re doing that today?” Her aunt blinks, “Girl, we have plenty of time for that. Why don’t we go jet-skiing! Or swim with the turtles?”

“Ooh! Jet-skiing sounds nice as hell!” Her mom agrees, the both of them clinking their mimosas together.

Nova then chimes in, “Yeah, momma. That sounds cool. But you wouldn’t wanna go see some beach venues?” He tries to reel both women back in, seeing as this is what his sister wants, and Toji’s eyes narrow as they try to force their itineraries on her.

“Not really. A beach wedding is simple anyways, honey,” Seioni’s mom shakes her head, “Your father married me in a beautiful cathedral, with angels, cherubs and renaissance paintings all against the walls. You should want more than that.”

That makes Seioni blink for a moment, her hand going lax in Toji’s. She knew how her mom could be, wanting things for herself and putting them onto her daughter, she just wished this wasn’t the time she did that.

His fingers twitch under the table, his irritation only growing as the conversation continued. How could they just disregard her? Didn’t they care about what she wanted?

“Well, um—maybe you guys can just go jet-ski and me and Toji will look for venues?” She then suggests, “You can take Megumi, I’m sure he’d enjoy the water way more.”

“Girl, this is a family vacation, meaning we’re all supposed to be together. You’re coming,” her mom finalizes, her aunt then saying, “Toast to that!” The both of them once again clinking those stupid ass mimosas. They were obviously tipsy. 

Eyes fall onto Toji who then stands from the table, holding Megumi as he says, “I’m gonna go try to feed him upstairs and put him down for a nap.” 

Seioni could feel her fiancées annoyance. She could feel the frustration radiating off of him. But she knew he was trying to hold his mouth for the sake of her family. 

She gives him a weak smile as she says, “Okay,” accepting the peck of his lips against hers before he makes his way upstairs.

“Toji can be a grumpy ass man it seems,” her mom points out, not realizing how irritating she’s being. 

“It’s just hard for us to get Megumi to sleep at times, Momma. Him being woken up this early dismisses the schedule we have him on,” she tries to explain.

“He’ll be okay,” her mom waves her hand, “There’s a lot we’re going to be doing, you both just need to relax a little bit.”

"And it's not all about Megumi," her aunt adds, "You have to think about us. We want to spend time with you, too."

Her eyes narrow slightly as she tries not to get riled up, "I know…”

Her mom takes a sip of her mimosa, her voice lowering, "But just think, is your fiancée seriously gonna be happy with a beach wedding?" 

Seioni can feel her shoulders tense as her mom puts doubt into her mind. She can see what she’s trying to do—maybe it’s starting to work.

“He’s happy with whatever I want, Mom,”  she pulls a braid behind her ear, “The whole reason we came to Maui was because he knew this was one of my places I wanted to get married.”

"Really?" Her aunt's voice is a mix between disbelief and surprise. "That man is happy with whatever you want?" 

Her mom shakes her head, "You really have him whipped, huh?"

“I need to get my husband like that,” her mom then laughs loudly, her aunt then chiming in, “I need all three of my men on my knees like he is!”

“Saanaà,” Seioni’s father scolds, Nova pulling out his phone to dismiss himself from this entire conversation.

Seioni blinks back and forth between them, feeling herself becoming irritated as well. If she let them go on for too long, they started berating everyone around. It wasn’t fun. 

Seioni presses her lips into her mouth as she says, “I’m gonna go take my medicine, we can meet back down here in the next hour for jet-skiing…or swimming with the turtles, yeah?”

Her mom gives her a sly smile, taking another sip of her mimosa, "Mhm, sounds like a plan, honey. Take your meds and we'll see you soon." 

Seioni's dad places his hand on her shoulder, Nova looking up from his phone, giving her a nod, agreeing that everything would be fine. Hopefully.

She could hear her mom and aunt both say, “Beach wedding…” another laugh, another clink of those fucking mimosas. 

As she makes her way upstairs, she opens the door to see Toji sitting at the end of the bed with Megumi as he holds a bowl of eggs towards him, the tv along the wall playing a cartoon that they usually watched together. 

Toji raised the scrambled eggs in his hand as he gestured to the baby, “Eat-eat?”

Megumi stares at the bowl in front of him, his eyes wide as he glances between Toji and the eggs. There's hesitation on his expression, as if he isn't sure if he wants to eat the food or not. Then his stomach growls, and he makes a face.

“No, Eat-Eat,” he pouts, rubbing his eyes, getting eggs within his hair as his tiny fingers rub his face. 

“Eat, eat,” Toji says again, a hint of impatience in his voice. He tries to guide the spoonful of eggs closer to Megumi's mouth, but the little boy turns his head away, refusing to open.

Seioni sighs as she closes the door. Toji looks at her, watching as she crosses her arms over her chest, a blank stare in her face as she keeps her eyes against the floor. The entire tables conversation replays in her head—she felt like this trip was slowly taking a turn. 

“No hungry, Oni’,” Megumi says to her, pushing the spoon away that Toji holds to him. 

Seioni sighs, “Eat-eat, Meggie. Then, go to bed? Yeah?”

Megumi blinks again, a deeper pout coming on his olive cheeks, skin deepening in red as tears gloss his eyes. He pouts, “Paci,” his own way of trying to say Pacifier. Toji shakes his head, “Don’t want you to cry, papa. Please eat-eat.”

He sniffles, leaning forward as he opens his mouth, Toji making a blowing sound with his lips to gain his attention, pushing the spoon within his mouth as he finally accepts the eggs. He watches as Megumi then takes the small bowl he has, beginning to mush the eggs together before shoving them into his mouth, crumbs falling all along the bed.

“You’ good?” Toji then takes his attention towards Seioni. 

She presses her lips in as she nods, “Yeah. I’m fine.”

"You don't look fine," he says bluntly, his eyes lingering. He knows her better than that.

“I’m just…my mom and my aunt are just drinking too much,” she brushes off, “That’s all. I don’t want Meggie to be irritated and sleepy all day, I just…wanna go look at venues.”

"We'll go look at venues," he assures her, his voice gentle. "We can go to every fuckin’ venue on this beach, baby. Whatever you want.”

Seioni takes in another breath. She wanted this vacation to be perfect, and for everyone to be happy. She didn’t want to be a pregnant bridezilla. 

She shakes her head, giving a fake smile as she sighs, “We’ll go jet-skiing, and swim with the turtles. It’ll be fun! We can check out the venues tomorrow.”

It’s unfortunate he could see right through her. 

"You sure about that, sunshine?" he asks, his voice laced with sarcasm. "We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, and you can tell your family that. You don’t have to be scared of them.”

She glances over to Megumi who’s now laying on her side of the bed, slowly dozing off as he keeps his eyes upon the show he watches. 

She crosses her arms again as she frowns, “Who said I was scared? I’m a grown ass woman, Fushiguro.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t. But you don’t have to let them walk over you.”

“And I’m not?”

“Okay.”

“Okay, so drop it.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” 

With that, she ignores the smack on his lips, Toji standing to shower, going around her as he pulls his shirt off of his upper body. She doesn’t even jump as the door slams behind him. She keeps her arms crossed, feeling like this was their first argument since they’d been here. This wasn’t going as well as she thought it would.

The disagreement between her and Toji made her feel weird. She didn’t like fighting with him, and now silence filled the tension for the next hour as they got ready for a day at the beach. She thought about her family, her mom, her aunt, she just wished that everyone was on one accord. But more importantly, she didn’t want to be at odds with Toji. 

She watched as Megumi was now fully dressed but asleep on the bed, Toji still within the shower as she was left alone to stare at herself. She stood in a royal blue bikini top and bottom, golden seashells clasped beneath the material under her breasts. She turned to the side, seeing her belly poking out in a way that made her feel huge. She could feel her eyes watering. 

Why couldn’t she stop feeling like this? Why did she wish she was within her regular body, feeling confident and sexy? For herself? For her fiancée? For herself?

She pulled her hair behind her ear as she heard the bathroom open, now feeling Toji’s broad frame beside her, his arms coming around from behind. Her body immediately leaned back against him.

She said softly, “I feel like…I don’t belong in this bikini.”

His muscles flex as he pulls her in closer to him. He leans down, his chin resting on her shoulder as he looks at her through the mirror. 

"Why do you say that?" he asks, his voice gruff but gentle. "You look fuckin’ perfect, baby."

She keeps her eyes down, not wanting to make herself cry, “I don’t know…maybe I should put something else on.”

"You don't have to put something else on," he says, his voice low. He brings his arm around her shoulders and neck, kissing her ear as he says, “You’re the most gorgeous woman on the planet.” 

She holds onto his arm, “You have to say that. You’ll be my husband soon.” 

“And I’ll say it a million times until you know I mean everything I say. Cut that self-deprecation shit out.”

She jumps lightly as she feels his palm slam along her ass, a breathless laugh leaving her lips as she rubs the tears that are trying to form in her eyes.

“I’m okay,” she convinces herself, bringing her eyes up as she says, “You look nice.”

Toji smirks as she glances up at him through the mirror, her eyes raking over his bare chest and the towel hanging low on his hips. It’s obvious how she’s trying to change the subject, but he doesn’t mind. 

“Don’t start flirting with me now, I’ll blush like a school boy,” he teases, his eyes glimmering with mischief as he grins at her reflection.

She laughs softly, leaning her face into his arm, inhaling the scent of his cologne. She then whispers, “I don’t…I don’t like when we fight.”

“Neither do I,” he agrees, his voice quieter now. “You’re not scared of your family,” he says, repeating the point he made earlier, “But don’t let them walk all over you, yeah?”

She nods her head, tilting her head to look back at him, “You love me? You won’t throw me into the ocean with the fish?”

Toji grins down at her, his eyes sparkling as he leans his face closer to hers. “I love you, momma. More than you know,” He then chuckles lightly, pretending to ponder over her question. “I may throw you in the water later, though.”

She rolls her eyes, leaning up as she kisses him again. 

The rest of the day had gone more pleasant than either of them expected, assuming the chaos of this morning would roll over into the day. Instead, the family enjoyed their time together. They went out to the water to jet ski, Seioni’s mom and her father on one, Nova by himself, and Toji pulling a fearful Seioni on his own while Celeste and Megumi watched from the boat—Celeste taking videos, per usual. Seioni shrieked as they sped on the vehicle, holding onto him tightly as he perfectly maneuvered throughout the crisp water.

He gunned the engine, causing the jet ski to leap forward, Seioni’s screams and giggles piercing the air. Everyone cheered as they coasted along the water, exploring the sight of the island, seeing the beauty of it from this perspective. When they were back on land they tried out Hawaiian snacks, Seioni for a moment seeing her mother and Toji getting along, cracking jokes with one another in a way that made her happy. She knew him, her brother and her father would immediately click. But to see Toji become close with her mom and aunt, it made her feel warm.

As the sun began to set and the sky turned brilliant hues of orange, pink, and gold, Seioni's family gathered for a barbecue dinner on the beach. They had cooked burgers and hot dogs on grills and set out side dishes and beverages on a long table. Toji sat next to Seioni, one arm around her chair as they all enjoyed the meal together.

In the soft flickering light of the torches and the glow of the sunset, Seioni found herself feeling a sense of peace and contentment that she hadn't expected to feel on this vacation.

They laid out along the sand as they were in a vicious game of Uno, her aunt and mom on their third fruity drinks, giggling as they talked shit to each other. 

Seioni rolled her eyes as she put down her card, “The color is…red!”

Toji laughed as Seioni declared the color, her aunt and mom groaning with frustration. The game had been going on for a while now, with all of them getting progressively more competitive as the drinks continued to flow. 

"You guys need to pay attention," Seioni teased, unable to contain her smirk as she watched her mom and aunt pout. Saanaà rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her drink as she said, "We're trying."

Her aunt chimed in with a scoff, "Yeah. It's not our fault that the colors are confusing, especially at night."

Toji chimed in, his voice laced with amusement, "Or maybe y’all are just tipsy as hell.”

“Red looks orange to me!” Celeste shook her head, Nova saying, “Orange isn’t even a color!”

The group burst out laughing at that. As they continued to place their cards down, Megumi sat beside Toji, playing in the sand. He stood on his small feet to get a better leverage on the castle Toji had helped him make earlier, but as he leaned against the sand, he began tugging at the shorts he wore, reaching for his diaper.

Seioni notices him tugging at his bottoms, calling him as she asks, “Meggie, go potty?”

He looked at her, nodding vigorously, “Potty.” 

He attempted to get up, but his small feet immediately sank back into the sand, causing him to lose his balance and stumble back down. Toji chuckled, reaching out to scoop him into his arms as he swiftly tugged his diaper open, catching a waft of stench in the baby’s pants. 

“Fuckin’ hell, Meg. Why didn’t you say potty? You don’t want to get a rash,” he talks more to himself, knowing Megumi couldn’t actually respond. Megumi babbles, wrapping his arms around Toji’s neck to hide himself, always becoming shy when he had an accident, knowing they’d been trying to get him on the toilet. 

“That’s because he can barely speak to say he needs to shit. Maybe y’all should’ve taught him that,” Seioni’s mom says, and it almost feels like an insult. With the way everyone went quiet,  it probably was. 

“Mom,” Seioni warns, “He’s two. He’s not gonna speak like the rest of us. He makes gestures when he needs something.” 

“Oh don’t give me that age bullshit, you and Nova knew how to speak perfectly at two. Knew colors. Even could count to fifty. It’s about the parent, and their lack of teaching to their child.”

Toji narrows his eyes, letting his mouth draw first as he questions, “The fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

“Toji,” Seioni scolds.

“My kid is doing perfectly fuckin’ fine, last time I checked,” Toji sharply replies, “We’re good as fuck over here.”

"The toilet exists yet he still shits himself!" Her mom retorts back, and Toji has to bite his tongue, holding back the urge to curse this woman out. 

“Just say he isn’t fully developed. You don’t have to give excuses, we can teach him something you might not be able to,” Saanaà finalizes, taking another sip of her wine cooler. 

Luckily, Seioni’s dad interrupts the growing tension—before Toji can rip this woman’s head off—his gentle voice trying to diffuse the situation. "Hey, hey. Let's not start fighting. Meggie's just fine.”

Seioni then agrees with a frown, “He’s doing just fine for his age. You’re tipsy.”

“Don’t tell me what the fuck I am, little girl! I’m a grown ass woman, I can drink when I wanna drink!”

“Don’t think ‘cause you got a lil’ family you can start talking to us crazy!” Her aunt pipes in. 

Seioni presses her lips together, watching as Toji then stands from his spot, taking Megumi as they begin making their way back towards the villa. He was upset with her for not only saying anything back to her family, but not defending him, knowing if he defended himself it would cause problems.

Her brother helps her stand from her spot before she follows Toji back into the villa, making her way upstairs as she finds him changing Megumi’s diaper. 

“Baby—“

“Nah. Don’t do that, Seioni. You know that shit was disrespectful as fuck.”

“I know that,” she says back, stepping farther into the door.

“You just sat there and let them say that about Megumi? What the hell is wrong with you?”

Seioni’s eyebrows lower, “‘The fuck do you mean by that? I can’t control my mom’s mouth, nor my aunts. I didn’t expect them to say any of that, Fushiguro.”

“It ain’t ‘bout your mom,” Toji snaps, his jaw clenching as his tone gets louder. He hates how she’s now addressing him by his last name, and with an annoyed grunt, he adds, “You could’ve at least said something about it. Defend us. Me. Something.”  

“You’re a grown ass man, Fushiguro. You could’ve told them something, you didn’t seem too afraid to start snapping up on my mom the minute she started talking about Megumi. Let’s talk about your disrespectful, big headed ass!” She insults, coming closer to him, her head tilting up as he towers over her frame.

Toji scoffs, the corner of his lip lifting up in a sneer. “My disrespectful, big headed ass? My disrespectful ass??”

“How about your disrespectful ass not saying anything when your mom insults our family. That’s what has me pissed. You didn’t stick up for your own motherfuckin’ so-called husband.” 

They’re going back and forth, not realizing that the rest of the family has entered the house. Her aunt and mother are too in their own world to hear the argument, her father trying to sober them up as her brother overhears. 

Nova quickly comes upstairs as he then says, “Hey, uh—I can take Megumi downstairs, I’m gonna make some smoothies, I think he’ll like it?” Trying to make sure the baby wasn’t within the room for their argument.

Toji’s eyes dart towards her brother as he appears, watching as he extends his hands towards Meg, reaching to pick him up. Toji nods and hands the child gently over to him, watching as he leaves the room. 

When he’s out of sight, Toji’s attention turns back to Seioni, focusing his scowl back on her. His face is stern, his hand running through his hair as he speaks, his voice quieter. 

“You should’ve said something. Anything, Seioni.” 

“So all of this is my fault? Let’s not act like you don’t have a fuckin’ mouth on you that I have to constantly put on a leash. What she said was wrong, but to point fingers at me? Fuck that, and fuck you!”

Those words hit right where he didn’t want them to, and a bitter laugh leaves his lips as he shakes his head. 

“This is what the fuck I was talking about. I’ve been so patient with your family. Your mom. Your aunt. Waking me up early as fuck as if I’ve slept, letting them walk all over you and tell you what to do as if you aren’t a grown ass woman. My fuckin’ woman. And now, telling me how to raise my kid? I’ve really been sparing your ass on the civil fact that I don’t want to get into it with your people. I love you too much to do that.”

“Oh, I’m supposed to be thankful on account of that? For not cussing out my mom and aunt? Man of the fuckin’ year, aren’t you?” She tilts her head, her body practically fuming as she becomes more pissed off, “You’re right. They’re a pain in the ass, I know that. You’re smart as fuck to not fix your mouth to say some slick shit to my momma. But instead of taking your lashings out on me, be a man and tell them that yourself! You can use your words without talking out of your neck, Fushiguro!” 

“I am a fuckin’ man!” He shouts, “A man wouldn’t talk out the side of his neck to your family! I’m trying not to act an ass, but you’re taking me there. They’re taking me there. Stop talking to me like I’m stupid as fuck, Seioni.” 

Seioni nearly flinches back at his tone, the anger seeping between them implausible. It's evident he’d been feeling like this for a while, and the reaction was worse than she wanted it to be. When she goes to open her mouth, it’s cut off by the sudden sound of screaming coming from downstairs—they belonged to Megumi. 

The both of them take off without question. When they take sight of the living room, they see Megumi standing in the middle of the marble, holding his arm that’s welted red.

“What happened?” Toji snarls, Seioni immediately picking him up, her heart beating as she says, “What happened to your arm?”

“I looked away for two seconds and his little bad ass put one of his toys in the toilet, and now it’s overflowed!” Her aunt shouts, the look on her brother and father’s face full of shock.

“Did you hit him?” Seioni’s eyes go wide, Megumi’s heavy crying filling her ear as he leans into her chest.

Toji thought he was going to have to kill someone. He saw red, only focused on the welt within his child’s arm. He looks to her mom as he squints, “Have you lost your fuckin’ mind? Why would you hit him? My fuckin’ child? Are you fuckin’ stupid?”

“He needs to learn! Y’all don’t seem to be teaching him shit! putting goddamn toys in the toilet—“

“That's for me to teach him!” Toji yells, deep voice having the entire villa shake, “You don’t get to tell me what the fuck to do about my kid! You and your insolent ass sister have too much liquor in your fuckin’ systems to have some sense!” 

“Aye, watch your fuckin’ mouth when you’re talking to my mom,” Nova warns, Seioni’s brother now glaring at Toji.

Toji was done.

“Or what, huh? ‘The fuck are you gonna do?” Toji’s fists clenched, his muscles becoming tense as he looked at Nova. “You wanna throw hands over your mom, you go right ahead. I’ll make you swallow your motherfuckin’ teeth.” 

Chaos ensues at this point. Megumi was still crying, Seioni tries to hold back Toji who lunges at Nova, and Seioni’s father holds back Nova who cusses out Toji right behind her mom and aunt that do the same. She feels overwhelmed, her worst fears coming to life—her entire family was falling apart. It gets so bad that the villa’s host had heard them from his part of the house, coming in and taking hold of Megumi who nearly falls in Seioni’s arms from tugging at Toji. 

“Stop it!” 

Her voice screams out, gripping Toji fully, tears masking in her vision, her cries catching the attention of the entire family—they’d never heard her raise her voice like that.

They all go silent, even Toji, who is breathing heavily. They all look at Seioni, and Toji is just surprised to be witnessing her on the verge of tears. She’d never looked so distraught. 

The room is filled with silence before her voice speaks up again, this time much less aggressive, much more vulnerable, almost like she was begging to be heard.

“This trip was supposed to be about me. I’ve been all over the place with this pregnancy, and the one thing I wanted was the support of all of you, and to enjoy my time here with my family, and yours all about to fuckin’ kill each other!” 

She raises her voice again, the entire room flinching, shocked to see her like this. She places her hand over her face as she sobs, trying to calm herself as she begins hyperventilating, “I didn’t…I didn’t even get to see one venue…”

The sight of her crying like this makes Toji’s heart want to drop. He frowns, becoming more pissed off at how upset they’ve all made her.

“Baby—“

“No, Fushiguro. Everything’s just…fucking ruined…” she continues to cry, high pitched as she gasps to try to control her breathing.

Toji swallows the lump in his throat, his chest feeling heavy as she speaks. She’s right, this was supposed to be about her, a time for her to get away from all the stress of pregnancy and relax. But instead, they all got wrapped up in their own emotions. 

Everyone feels a pang of guilt. The silence is heavy as Megumi blinks within the hosts’ arms, seeing Seioni’s tears, trying to understand her emotions. 

“Oni’, sad?”

She hears the small voice, her focus now going back to him. He shouldn’t have had to see the bullshit of this situation. 

With that, she politely takes him into her arms, cradling him as she begins making her way out of the villa. Toji’s deep voice calls for her, “Seioni—Seioni!”  going to go after her when her father then says, “Just let her go, Toji. She’ll be fine. She just needs time.”

Toji grinds his teeth at those words, wanting to go after her. He hates leaving her alone when she’s upset, but her father was right. She just needed some time. But that didn’t make leaving any easier. 

He sighs, running his hand through his hair as he closes his eyes, his jaw clenching as he looks back at her family. Nova looks upset, her mom and aunt looking somewhat guilty. No one dared to speak after their outburst, so the living room remained tense.

Seioni makes her way out onto the beach, going farther than she planned for herself to. She walked for what felt like almost twenty minutes, finding a small patch of rocks, a seating area with flowers surrounding it. She sees from afar as children play by the water, placing Megumi beside her as she clumps the sand up for his attention, just needing the comfort of him knowing he wouldn’t have much to say. She then sighs, watching as the sun sets, placing her hands over her belly, rubbing gently. 

“You’re causing havoc before you even get here, Y’know that?” She looks down to her stomach.

The evening wind blows as the sun slowly falls, washing over Seioni’s face, which is puffy and red from her previous tears. As she sits on the little rock, she speaks to her belly, the sound of her baby’s heartbeat filling her ears as she touches her stomach. She finds herself surrounded by tranquility, the soft waves of the water and the laughter of children bringing her comfort.

She then looks at Megumi, leaning her hand out as he wraps his small fingers around her index. She says softly to him, “Oni’ love Megumi. And Papa.”

Megumi takes hold of her finger, his tiny hand around her index. His large round eyes look up at her, a look of curiosity within his gaze. His little nose scrunches as he tries to say something back, but nothing comes out aside from a few babbles, making his little pink lips pursed together.

She giggles, opening her palm as he pats his hand against hers a couple of times, blowing raspberries into his other hand. All of her guilt hits her, despite everyone being the cause of their own issues. She wished her mom and aunt hadn’t been so rude at times, she wishes Toji wasn’t so easy to anger, but she also wishes that she had stood up for him, for Megumi. She loved them both so much, and this was now her family as well. With that, she decides to sit in silence with Megumi, watching as the sun goes down.

                        ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.  𐦍༘⋆ ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.  𐦍༘⋆

A COUPLE HOURS HAD PASSED, and the family was becoming more nervous. When they realized that Seioni wasn’t anywhere near the villa, they also found out she didn’t have her phone. They sent the host to go look for her, Toji nearly about to have a nervous breakdown as he thought the worse.

“I’m sure she’s fine, Toji,” Noel tells him, trying to get him to relax.

“She doesn’t have her phone, and she’s on an island she’s never been to. Pregnant. With fuckin’ Megumi,” he’s angry, he’s unsure why, he just wants to see her. Make sure she’s okay. Was she lost?

“Talking to her while she’s still upset won’t do anything but make shit worse,” he reminds.

Her mother and aunt sit along the couch, now drinking water instead of their usual mimosa or wine cooler. They both feel bad about the way they’ve been speaking to Seioni and her fiancè. 

Her aunt sighs, “Look—we’re so sorry, Toji. Everything that happened was just—wrong. Our control issues, hitting Megumi, trying to tell you what to do—You’re a good father, and will be an amazing husband.”

Her mom then nods her head, “She’s right. We’re happy to have you in our family, Toji. We’re so sorry about everything that’s happened.”

Toji exhales deeply, the words from her mother and aunt bringing him a sense of comfort, though he's still anxious as to when she'd return. He glances out the windows, the sun fully falling now in the distance. 

"We can talk about this later, but I appreciate it. I just wanna make sure my wife is okay.”

“We’ cool too, right? I only was about to fight cause you were talking crazy to my momma, although it was fair. She get on my damn nerves too, you’re cool as fuck, though,” Nova finds his way of apologizing, his mom smacking the back of his head for his words.

Toji lets out a gruff sigh and turns to Nova, giving him a small nod. He didn't blame the guy for being protective, he probably would've done the same thing. His words get a small laugh from him. 

"We’re good. You were trying to look out for your mom. I can't blame you for that.“

Tension comes off of everyone, and the room feels lighter. But one thing remained the same—Seioni was still missing. 

Another hour and a half passed, and Toji was now frustrated, still worried, but even more irritated. She entered back into the villa without saying anything, holding Megumi’s hand as she let him walk.  

The minute she closed the door, Toji was the first one to speak up, “And where the fuck have you been?”

He couldn’t help it. He didn’t mean to be harsh, but he missed her greatly. He was scared shitless for anything to happen to her. 

Seioni lets go of Megumi, crossing her arms over her chest as she looks at Toji, not replying to his aggression. 

Her mom takes that notion as she stands, “How about we all go take a walk on the beach and let these two talk, hm?”

Nova swoops Megumi into his arms, everyone practically flying out of the house—including the host—closing the door behind themselves. Seioni then begins making her way upstairs, Toji nearly breaking his neck as he watches her walk away from him, saying nothing. He of course follows behind her.

“So I’m not talking right now? ‘The fuck am I being ignored for?”

“I’m fine, Toji. Okay? I’m fine, you see? I’m here,” she clarifies, “I just needed space.”

"You've been gone for damn near three hours. Excuse me for being worried.” He snaps back, his worry slowly becoming anger. He steps closer towards her, his voice still low. 

“What if something happened? You didn’t have your phone, alone on an fuckin’ island—“

Her usual response would’ve been to snap back at him. But she can see the tense in his shoulders, the drain in his face. She comes forward, bringing her hands to his face as she pulls him down, “Hey,” she says softly, “I’m fine, Fushiguro.” 

She knows he’s not angry at her— he was terrified—and didn’t know how to show it. She can feel him nearly shaking, wrapping her arms around his neck as she inhales his scent.

 She says quietly, “I missed you too.”

When she grabs his face, he almost flinches, not anticipating the action. But as soon as she speaks, his shoulders slightly relax. 

He feels her arms around his neck, and his arms instinctively go to her waist, his hands grabbing her hips as he tugs her body against his. He buries his face into her neck, breathing her in as he feels himself shake. His voice is hoarse as he talks, not pulling away from her just yet. 

“I was scared as hell.”

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes, “I just…needed time to think.” 

Her tone makes him replay everything that’s happened on this trip, and he feels guilty, wishing he would’ve been more upfront about his feelings, wishing it hadn’t gotten this far.

“I’m sorry too,” he says, his voice quiet. His hands tighten around her hips as he moves his face close to hers. “I should’ve been honest.”

She then pulls him back down, clutching him as if she feels like he would pull away at any second. She muffles into his shirt, “You’re a great dad—please know that. You’ll be an equally amazing husband, baby.”

He closes his eyes and buries his face back into her neck, his chest rising and falling as he tries to slow his racing heart. Her words bring comfort to him, and they make him feel better, but he can’t stop feeling guilty about what’s happened. 

“I love you. I love you so fuckin’ much,” he grunts into her neck.

“I love you too,” she says softly, “I’m sorry I’ve also been…distant. I’m just—I’m not used to this whole pregnancy thing. I feel like…I’m not as attractive as I used to be.”

He listens intently as she speaks, feeling her breath against his neck. He pulls back to look at her, seeing the look of vulnerability across her features. It makes his chest clench tighter, seeing the insecurity in her eyes. 

“You are,” he says, his voice firm yet soft, “You’re sexy as hell, baby. You couldn’t change that even if you wanted to.” He gently touches her face, his eyes staring into hers.

Here go those tears she’d been trying to hold. Seioni gives a weak laugh as she quickly tries to wipe face, Toji brushing her cheek as he drags his hands down to her throat, clutching her forward, his eyes growing dark as he can feel she doesn’t believe his words.  

He grunts, “C’mere,” clutching her lips under his mouth. The aggression makes Seioni’s breath hitch, her tears spraying along her cheeks as she feels his body radiating a feeling she hadn’t endured in a while—lust. And he had been so patient with her.

“Toji—“

 Her voice is of a desperation he hadn’t heard in a while, her legs feeling weak as his lips are against her neck, quipping a match along her skin, blazing a fire within him. God, he’s missed the sound of her.

The way his body heats up as he kisses her, he can’t help but feel overwhelmed with desire, and it only gets worse the more tears fall down her cheeks. He has to show her what she means to him. 

She squeals lightly as he effortlessly wraps her legs around his hips, carrying her over towards the bed. Her eyes stare right across from the large mirror within their room. Her reflection. A heart beat thumps in Seioni’s chest as he raises her legs over his shoulders, dropping down onto his knees, ache, hunger within his eyes as hers are closed. 

“Keep your fuckin’ eyes open. Look at me.”

Her gasp could’ve shaken the house. He shoved her dress back, his tongue instantly dragging up her core, moaning against her like she was a desert he hadn’t tasted in a while. 

“Been wanting your pussy in my mouth since we got here, Baby. Fuck.” 

Seioni legs tremble to where she couldn’t control them, eyes rolling to the back of her head as she gripped his hair, kneeling back as her chest faltered. His head bobs up and down, slurping against her pussy in a way that makes a loud sound against the room. Her body quivers as she whimpers, “O—Oh—f—fuck, baby.”

Toji growls against her, the vibrations sending shudders through her body. His hands move to grip her thighs, holding her in place as he continues to devour her. He pulls back momentarily, panting heavily as he looks up at her. "You're so fuckin’ wet," he groans, his fingers tracing circles on her inner thigh. “I missed the taste of you." 

Seioni’s body buzzes as his head quickly dips back down between her legs, his tongue delving inside of her once again. He uses one hand to spread her opening wider, allowing his tongue to explore every inch of her. He licks and sucks at her clit, nipping lightly at the sensitive flesh before moving lower to lap at her entrance.

She feels flustered, her face warm as she looks at herself within the mirror. Her large belly, her flushed cheeks. She closes her eyes again. Her heart skips a beat when she feels one of his hands snake up through her body, pulling her face right to the mirror across from them, spreading her legs wider. 

His free hand reaches around to cup one of her breasts, thumb rubbing over her nipple through the fabric of her dress. He leans in, his breath hot against her ear as he whispers, "So beautiful... I want to fuck you everywhere..."

Her breath hitches in response, “Baby, I…” 

“That’s not my name,” Toji grunts, bringing his face back down, sucking her clit into his mouth, groaning as he shakes his head from side to side, digging his lips deeper against her arousal that begins collecting against his jaw. 

He holds her leg up by the ankles now, “Look at me eating your pussy, fuckin’ love every second of it. You taste like heaven. Can’t fuckin’ get enough of you.” 

She nearly throws her hands over her face, the warmth going into pure heat as she whimpers, “Stop it, Fushiguro,” shuddering as he deeply kisses her core, dragging his tongue down to her opening. 

“Shut the fuck up. Gonna put my tongue in you so deep, baby. Wanna see you squirt on my face. I miss that shit.”

She gasps, placing her hands back in his hair as he does exactly what he promised, spitting against her core before he takes it back into his mouth. He then pulls back, sticking his tongue out as he pushes it into her opening, listening to it squelch. He moans right when she moans, spreading her legs wider, rolling his jaw forward as he fucks his mouth deeper into her.

Toji continues to feast on Seioni's wet folds. He can't get enough of her taste, his tip throbbing painfully against his pants. The sounds she makes only serve to spur him on, driving him wild with lust. He feels her grip his hair tightly, her hips bucking against his face as she tries to chase her release.

He pulls back momentarily, panting heavily as he stares up at her. His eyes are glazed with desire, his lips glistening with her juices. He grins wickedly as he sees the desperation in her eyes, his own need mirrored there. "Not gonna stop until you cum all over my face," he growls, diving back in with renewed vigor.

The feeling is all too intense for her, body shaking as she messily groans, “Mmm—f—fuck,” it transferring out into a gasp and whine, her lower body relaxing as she cums  into his mouth, not giving her enough time to enjoy the feeling of him eating at her. The reaction makes him arrogantly chuckle, her body jumping more as he spanks her in response, “Ooh, that’s fuckin’ good baby. You’re sensitive. You’re gonna cum on my dick just like that.”

She feels like she could black out at any moment, holding onto him for dear life as he brings his attention back up to her clit. He then takes two of his fingers, sliding them deep into her. Her pussy pushes out air as a reaction, her head falling back as she whines in response, staring down as she whimpers, “Fushiguro…”

"So fuckin’ tight," he groans, his free hand reaching down to unzip his pants. His tip springs free, already leaking pre-cum, needing her.

“Fingers feel too big,” she whimpers, the longing of anything inside her making her feel a pinch at just his fingers—she wasn’t sure what she could handle. 

“I’m gonna stretch your shit out, give you the dick you’ve been crying for,” he grunts, his fingers slamming into her, sloshing against her walls, erogenous and fluttering around his palm. 

“Missed your fuckin’ pussy, baby,” he leans down, giving a gentle kiss on her thigh, “You’ missed me?” 

Seioni let out a deep breath, nodding her head as she whimpered out, “Missed you so much, baby.”

His eyes go dark, reminding her, “That’s not my name. You’ know my fuckin’ name. Say that shit.”

She felt herself falling apart already, her mind and body feeling fuzzy as she spreads her legs wider, “Keep eating my pussy,” she begs to him, another spank palming along the back of her thigh.

His eyes came up, “You’re begging me now?” 

She nods her head, “Want it so bad,” she whimpers. 

“No you don’t. Keep fuckin’ begging.”

She holds him by his hair, grinding her pussy against his face, sucking air into her mouth as his tongue delves in and out of her, the spread of her legs feeling so good. She felt like an addict, suddenly needing more from him.

His smirk grows wider at her response, his fingers digging into her thighs as he keeps going. His tongue swirls around her clit before sucking it into his mouth, humming in delight at the taste of her.

“N—Need more of you so fuckin’ bad, baby. Please…” she begs, bringing her hands to where her legs are, holding them up herself.

 It makes him chuckle, “You’re fuckin’ nasty, baby,” grunting, spanking her in repetitions. 

When he comes up, her arms feel numb as she tries to grip onto him, his tongue sliding into her mouth as he huffs to her, “Taste yourself,” gripping her throat.

He can feel her shaking, her body trembling. It had been a while since she felt this good, a slight pressure releasing, but not fully. As he stands, he clutches her by her hair, pulling her to where she gets on her knees, dragging her back towards the edge of the bed as he says, “You know how I want you—get on all fours.”

She complies, almost missing this side of him, the primal, animalistic side he tried to hold back with her pregnancy. She obliges, pressing her palms and knees against the bed, arching herself to the best of her ability. Her cheeks feel warm as she’s still looking directly at herself. 

He briefly pauses his dominant gestures as he asks, “You’ okay, baby? Need a pillow so you’re comfortable?”

She blinks, then nods her head. That didn’t feel like enough to him. 

“Use your fuckin’ words,” he commands with a grip to her hair, his palm lightly patting against her face. She nods, becoming more aroused as she says softly, “Yes, please. Thank you, Daddy.”

It’s all he’d been looking for. 

He takes a pillow as he places it under her belly, giving her another soft kiss, then making her entire body jump as he spanks her with his palm. She watches as he removes his shirt, her mouth practically watering at the sight of him. She places her hands along his hard stomach, running her fingers down as she moans, “Missed you so-so much, baby.”

She’s tugging at his pants, unable to help herself as she’s pulling his dick from beneath his boxers, already wrapping her lips around his tip. Her eyes are feline, mischievous as she wraps her fingers around the base of him, bobbing her head as she begins to seductively suck.

She sticks her tongue out, slapping it along her taste buds that makes him smirk down, tugging her hair as he gently smacks his hand along her face, “Missed my dick like that, huh?” 

She nods her head, the shyness she had before trying to break its walls down. He groans as she pulls her head forward, shoving his dick into the back of her throat, filling her entire mouth as her eyes roll to the back of her head, jaw lax as she chokes. It makes his head tilt back, gritting his teeth as he reaches forward, slamming his palm against her ass.

She pulls him out of her mouth as she rotates her hand against his tip, “Want you to fuck me from behind, please.”

In a way, he feels evil. Purposely wanting her in front of the mirror—he loved watching her, and he loved to make her watch herself. 

He’s now behind her, making sure the pillow is directly beneath her stomach, pressing kisses along her neck, clutching her throat from behind. He then pulls himself up, his broad frame large above hers, eyes dark as he watches her face. 

Seioni’s hips jerk as she feels his tip in between her folds, swollen and calling to pull him in. 

They both listen to themselves, a tight clutch returning  in the mess of her hair as he slowly and agonizingly pushes into her. Her eyes fall close, her fingers gripping the sheets beneath her. She digs her teeth into her lip, desperately trying to hold back the music that wants to spill from her mouth. But as he wraps his fingers around her throat from behind, mouth by her ear as he says, “Wanna feel just how much you miss me,” rolling his hips deeper into her, Seioni’s eyes roll to the back of her head, a whine shivering from her lips as she cums again, gushing out after several seconds. 

His fingers somehow slide into her mouth as she loses her mind, moaning incoherently as she pants against his palm, eyes striking back to the mirror. Toji groans against her throat, sultrily laughing as he begins dragging her back onto him, grinding his hips forward, listening to their skin clap together. 

“Shit,” baby,” she moans onto his fingers, Toji against her ear as he grunts, “Yeah? This all you wanted?” 

He clutches her mouth, the bite of her teeth is the grip he has on her, Seioni only able to hear the way their skin latches onto one another before letting go, wanting to hear it again, again, and again. 

“Fuck, Daddy,” she whines, unable to hold her mouth back, feeling like she was about to spiral.

Her body felt on overdrive, it being so long since she felt this type of pleasure. Her eyes watch them within the mirror, Toji’s broad frame practically shadowing hers, tugging her back onto his abdomen, the sound within the room too filthy to listen to. 

She turns her head slightly, her eyes looking up to his as she trembles, “Missed you…missed you inside me…”

Toji growls, "You don't need to miss anything, baby." He rolls his hips, pushing his length deeper into her warmth. "Just let me take care of you.”

She then whimpered softly, “…Feeling a little uncomfortable though, baby,” the position making her back begin to ache from the arch of it, an unfortunate case from her pregnancy. 

He obviously didn’t want to hurt her, taking the pillow and laying it horizontally, positioning her body to where she now lays on her side against the bed. He positions himself behind her as he holds one of her legs upwards, making sure the both of them are still reflected into the mirror.

His hand rubs over her stomach affectionately, positioning his tip between her folds from behind, his palm coming between her legs. He then lifts her outer leg, finding her clit and rubbing gently as he asks, “Feel good, baby? Need to stop?” All while peppering kisses against her neck. She grabs his hair from behind, moaning softly as she nods her head, “I’m okay…Keep going, please.”

He groans deeply as he thrusts into her, his hand reaching around to cup her breasts. He continues to move in and out of her, his thrusts deep and powerful, lips attaching to her ear, the feeling making her shiver. When his hand clasps back around for her throat,her eyes appear back open, seeing the sight in front of her. His broad frame captures from behind, holding her leg with one hand, clasping her throat with the other, eyes dark and hooded, grunting within her ear. She realizes just how much this man found her attractive, and it made her more horny. He loved her.

“Look at you,” he talks within her ear, holding her down as he snaps his hips, “So fuckin’ pretty, so fuckin’ needy for me. Missed you…so fuckin’ much baby…” he grunts out the last words, it slipping into a moan, Seioni turning her head, sticking her tongue out in a way of asking for a kiss.

He leans down, capturing her lips in a rough, passionate kiss. His free hand reaches up to grip her hair, pulling it slightly as he pushes his dick deeper inside of her.

When her eyes fall down to the bed, Toji grips her face, pointing her directly at the mirror as he says, “Fuckin’ gorgeous. Gonna have all my kids, my fuckin’ wife.” ” 

His voice makes something within her feel emotional. All of her insecurities melted into her brain, her eyes feeling like they were close to filling with tears as she moaned within his mouth, clutching his face in her hands as she whimpered, attempting not to allow herself to cry. 

“Don’t cry, baby. You’re too pretty for that,” he grunts, yanking her hips back, “Cry cause’ I’m fuckin’ you so good.” 

She whimpers again, “You’re just saying all that ‘cause you love me.”

He chuckles, "Maybe." He continues thrusting into her, his pace unrelenting. His hand leaves her hip, moving down to her clit where he begins rubbing circles around it. "But mostly 'cause you're driving me fuckin’ crazy," he growls, nipping at her earlobe.

She twists her head, raising her face to meet his mouth as she trembles, “L—Love you so much…”

“Only other times you’re sweet and shit,” he says against her ear, listening to the way she trembles out another gasp, “Is when you’re about to cum.”

He takes one hand as he places it along her shoulder, the other on her hip, eyes dropping down to watch the way her ass bounces onto his abdomen, leaving a collection of arousal each time he digs deeper into her.

 He groans, feeling his own orgasm approach rapidly. He lifts her off his dick momentarily, lining himself up before slamming into her harder.

It makes her gasp deeply, her legs quivering to where she tries to press her palm onto her thigh to stop the shaking, feeling a hand grab hers, holding it up to her throat and trapping it along his palm as he fucked her even harder. 

His lips are against her ear, heavily breathing, his own stomach forming butterflies. He tries to suppress the low moan that drops from his mouth as he talks, “All that creaming on my dick, need you to cum.” 

Her voice is gone, eyes flutter shut as she can’t stop hyperventilating, talking through her gasps, “Gonna’ cum, Daddy…”

He snarls, his grip on her wrist tightening. "Then fuckin’ cum on me, Mama," he orders, his thrusts becoming brutal, “Would give you another fuckin’ baby if I could. Pussy is…” he grunts, a sound she hadn’t expected coming from him, a whimper as his eyes tightly shut, “So fuckin’ good, baby. Fuck. I love you.”

That sound sends her over the edge. Her entire body halts as she goes quiet, hearing the sound of herself gushing out, orgasm taking over her entire frame as she hides her face within the sheet, sobbing as he continues slamming her ass down onto his hips. The hand still on her neck drags up to her jaw, forcing her eyes back to the mirror again. 

“Fuckin’ love looking at you…” he pants, “All mine. Gonna be all mine, can’t fuckin’…” he whimpers again, “Can’t wait, baby.” 

He then turns her head, swallowing her sobs as he thrusts harder, clutching her face as he moans into her mouth, it was the hottest thing she’d ever seen. A warmth fills her, their breaths collected together as they pant heavily.

She could still feel Toji’s hand upon her face, dragging his thumb against her jaw, taking in the way she looked at the moment. Vulnerable—connected to him. 

“You’re gonna be an amazing mother, baby.” 

Her eyes come open as she hears that, blinking at his words. It felt meaningful to her, she couldn’t have asked for a better partner. She takes his hand as she kisses it, turning over as she wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

As they laid in each other’s embrace, the soft sounds of their breathing filling the air, Toji’s fingers danced along her body. He traced every curve and line, committing every inch of her to memory. He couldn’t help but feel grateful for her to be in his arms. The woman of his dreams was in front of him, in his arms, with their child growing in her womb. 

The moment wasn’t ruined— but felt to be cut short as it sounded like the door opening to the villa. They heard the voice of her brother call, “Aye! Scream if y’all in here fuckin’!”

They then heard the sound of a smack—Nova getting palmed in the back of his head by her mom— as she says, “Shut up! Just cause you can’t get none doesn’t mean they can’t!—but if y’all are in here having sex, have some decorum! There’s a baby in the house!”

Toji grins into Seion’s neck as he hears her mother smack her brother. He presses a gentle kiss into her throat as he chuckles, “There goes your loud ass family.”

“Unfortunately,” she sighs, accepting the kiss, “We should get dressed, I’m starving.” 

“When are you not hungry, Pac-Man?” 

“Oh?” she blinks, “That was a fat joke. I’m gone!”

She holds her belly as she begins coming off of the bed, Toji trying to hold back his laugh as she’s waddling around, searching for the dress she previously wore. 

“You’ laughing? This shit is funny?”

“Nope,” he raises his hands up, “You’ mad? Don’t love me no more? You were just calling me by my second na—“

“Fushiguro!” 

“Why are we going downstairs? We can always stay up here and discuss why I think this baby should be named Toji-Seioni-Megumi-Jr?” 

“I’m never speaking to you again.”

“That’s cool. We got time.”

Seioni groans as she continues waddling for the bathroom, throwing her middle finger up as he sarcastically blows a kiss at her. She was annoyed within the moment, but one thing she could agree to—they had time. An eternity of it.

[drdemonprince]

In a piece for The New Inquiry from back in 2017, George Dust states that when queer people complain about there being a top shortage, what they really mean is “nobody is fucking me the way I want, and I have no agency in that.” Alongside co-authors Billy-Ray Belcourt and Kay Gabriel, Dust suggests that many queer people align themselves with a passive or “bottom” position because they believe that role will absolve them of the guilt of really wanting things. They present themselves as what they believe to be the sexual party with zero power; the receiver, the accepter of action rather than its cause.

This position is drawn in contrast to the bottom-identified person’s idea of a top: the one who approaches, the person with hungers and desires, the person who decides which sexual activities will happen and how intense they will get. The top, from this perspective, is the stronger, more capable, more dangerous person. They’re the only one who can ever be guilty of intruding or harming somebody else. This power is scary, but it’s also compelling.

Dust calls this fantastical version of a top a “brute” — and they are the most cartoonish stereotype of what it means in society to be a man. Because it’s a cartoonish stereotype, no human actually lives up to it — and we’d probably revile a person even if they could.

Though queer people know we are harmed by the gender binary and heteronormativity and all the social scripts those things force upon us, its biases are still embossed on our brains. Without meaning to, we reproduce tired gender stereotypes in our relationships. And so we see expressing a sexual want as masculine, and being masculine as being more capable of violence and coercive control, and thus bad. We see failing to communicate one’s desires openly as desirably feminine, as well as a sign of blamelessness and purity — because on some level we still feel it is wrong to have desires.

But this entire worldview is a complete lie. Desire is not evil. Expressing attraction is not a violation. Failing to express oneself can be just as dangerous as not listening to someone else’s limits. Women can be abusive. Bottoms can sexually assault. No matter our gender, presentation, or sexual role, we are each capable of harm. And the only way to make a safe, mutually pleasurable sexual encounter happen is by going after it, actively, and communicating from a position of inner strength.

So how do you do that, if society’s been telling you all your life that you’re meant to date by acting like a deer passively snapping twigs in the woods, waiting for some hunter to hear you, and pursue you? (That really is dating advice that Evangelical Christian counselors give to women, if you can believe it).

By not fixating so much on what you’re doing or not doing to draw other people toward you, and instead thinking in terms of what you want and what you observe beyond yourself.

[evansbby]

𝐖𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒☆.｡.:*

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!

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.

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

[hxnbi]

⸻ ღ ❝ THE NIGHT THEY WAITED ❞

synopsis. wind breaker boys and their reaction when they realized you hadn't come home

ft. ren kaji, hajime umemiya, haruka sakura, jo togame, choji tomiyama x gn. reader (separate)

contents. fluff, angst/comfort, established relationship

REN KAJI ─ ✦.° ✩

KAJI is all but distracted with his own thoughts until he realized that hours passed, and yet, you still had not returned. That alone was enough to worry him, pulling out the lollipop in his mouth and trashing it. Not even the sweet taste of the candy could mask the sour taste pooling in his mouth at the thought that you might be in danger.

He debated back and forth in his own mind whether he should find you and ensure that you are safe, or trust that you are capable and able to handle yourself. Even pacing back and forth in the comfort of his own home with an expression of distaste and blatant cuss words being thrown like clockwork.

Kaji is very easily overstimulated by loud noises (though the ear-piercing rock music he plays on his headphones begs to differ), so the second you return with a wide grin and a voice of steel, he immediately tenses, greeting you with a nod. His eyes, however, betrayed his calm exterior, showing just how much he missed you.

“Sorry for being late, Kaji!” you called out, taking off your shoes and entering the living room where Kaji sat. “Did I worry you?”

Clearly awaiting your presence, he shook his head, but his eyes told a different story, and you saw it.

"It's alright," he murmured.

You sighed, looking a bit sheepish. "I’m sorry if I worried you. I just got caught up helping Mrs. Tanaka with her groceries. Her cart tipped over in the market, and I couldn’t just leave her to clean it all up by herself. Then she insisted on making me tea as a thank you, and, well, you know how chatty she can get."

Kaji’s expression softened. From all the causes he had concocted to himself prior about your odd absence about what could’ve happened to you, he was just relieved that you were here, at this moment, here, with your attention solely on him. “Tch...” he said quietly, reaching out to gently squeeze your hand. “I just missed you, that’s all,” he said softly, his voice barely audible, like he was embarrassed that he had worried so much over nothing. It was so unlike him to be this vulnerable.

Kaji ran his fingers through the middle part of his hair. 'Shit...' He reached out to take your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

You smiled, squeezing his hand back. "I missed you too, Kaji. Let's have a quiet evening together, just the two of us! You know, there was a movie that Ms. Tanaka reckoned to watch with amazing music! Wanna try?”

His shoulders relaxed, and he gave you a small, genuine smile. "That sounds perfect."

HAJIME UMEMIYA ─ ✦.° ✩

The second UMEMIYA realized that you weren’t there to visit him at Furin at the exact time, moment, and second that you always did with a bright smile and cheerful greeting, he felt a sense of unease digging into his gut. At first, he brushed it off from you not having enough time and merely forgetting to tell him. But when Umemiya came home that evening, his heart already pounding with worry, only to see an empty apartment, it only augmented his anxiety that something might’ve been wrong. Still, he remained positive. But hours would go by, and still was no sight of the person Umemiya now utterly craved to see.

Anyone who dared to piss the leader of Furin that day would face his utter wrath, but when it came to you, his anger melted into pure elation and relief, as the moment you stepped through the door, his eyes widened, taking one step another the other to embrace you right into his arms. He couldn’t keep his hands to himself to save his own life. In truth, it was never a question that Umemiya was very physically affectionate, but his reaction tonight was on a whole new level that caught even you off guard.

Before you knew it, you were led to the couch, where Umemiya began to grill you, jumping straight into your lap and nearly knocking you over from the unexpected force. That is, if the couch didn't cushion your landing.

“Where have you been?! What have you been doing! And without me?! I-I was worried sick…”

You sheepishly met his gaze with a grimace, apologizing for not telling him that had plans that day with friends, and saying that you were just caught up in a conversation with the nearby shop owner and helped him to close shop that day, as he was rather on the older side and wanted to spend some extra time chatting.

"Ugh, you always do this! Do you know how worried I was? I thought something happened to you," Umemiya whined, his arms wrapping tightly around you. "You can't just disappear like that..."

He wouldn’t let you go, he can’t let you go. 

With a sigh, you steadied yourself on the couch as he straddled your legs, his face falling next to your hips as he smothered you with his weight. “Ume....” you murmured, running your fingers through his hair. “You know that’s never going to happen.” 

Umemiya’s worried aura was quick to disperse as a small pout tugged at his lips. Every inch of him seemed to revel in the joy of having you back. Umemiya’s hands roamed your back, your arms, and burying his neck in your neck, as if to reassure himself that you were really there. He locked his arms around your waist when you attempted to make an escape from the ticklish feeling of his messy, visibly unwashed white hair brushing against the skin of your collarbone. 

“Ume! That tickles.”

“Too bad, you’re not getting away that easily.”

You smiled. During times like these, he really did look like a puppy.

HARUKA SAKURA ─ ✦.° ✩

The very second his heightened senses kicked in, SAKURA tried to keep calm. Key word, he tried. However, his actions would beg to differ once anyone would see him pacing back and forth, waiting for a certain person to come through that door. The worry that you hadn’t returned yet, even when the sun was past its peak, worried him to no end. What if you were confronted? What if you got hurt? What if… you left him?

His foot tapped against the floor in a rhythmic sound, keeping his arms crossed. Sakura tried to play it cool, but the second you walked through the door, he couldn’t hide the relief in his eyes. You looked to be fine, but what if something happened and he wasn’t aware…? Was there something he—

“Sakura,” your voice broke through the corridors of his mind. “I’m sorry about today, my friends wanted—“

“About time you showed up,” he clicked his tongue with a roll of his eyes.

But you noticed the softening of his gaze, the slight tremor in his voice. He stood there, arms crossed, attempting to maintain his usual aloof demeanor, but the faint tremble in his lips gave him all away. And as you walked closer, you saw the unfurling of his arms, his hands itching to reach out to you. Finally, unable to hold back any longer, Sakura pulled you into a tight hug, his face buried in your hair. His long arms circled you, making their way around your back.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. 

He pulled you closer to his chest and you could feel his heartbeat slowly accelerate. But that wasn’t enough for Sakura to let go. You hugged him back just as tightly, feeling the tension in his body slowly melt away. "I missed you too, Sakura. I’m sorry I worried you."

The second those very words exited your mouth, Sakura pulled back slightly to look into your eyes, his hands resting on your shoulders. “Tch, you can go wherever the hell you want. Just next time, just promise me you’ll let me know, okay? I can’t stand not knowing where you are or if you’re safe.”

You nodded, touched by his unusual sense of concern for you. “I promise!"

"Hah... The hell are you smiling like that for...?" For a moment, you could see Sakura breathe a sigh of relief. 

“If you even know how to text me, that is.”

Sakura’s face exploded. “Y-YOU!!! I know how to use a phone!!”

"Really? Then why don’t you ever reply to my messages?"?"

"HUH??"

Safe to say, he wasn’t very impressed.

JO TOGAME ─ ✦.° ✩

There was a moment of worry when you didn’t show up on time. At first, TOGAME tried to keep himself busy, to focus on anything other than the gnawing concern that something might have happened to you. But the moment you stepped through the door, Togame felt as though a weight was lifted off his shoulders—quite literally. 

You looked to be okay, he thought, and without thinking, he pulled you into a bone-crushing hug, his arms wrapped tightly around you. No questions asked, just pure, unfiltered affection. And a rather unexpected welcome home that you were hardly expecting. 

You took a moment to process the actions, eyes darting around restlessly before landing back on the man standing before you. “Well…” you began with a sheepish smile, “I was walking here, and I saw this new food stall that I’ve never seen before. So I went to check it out! Guess I lost track of time, aha...”

When you peered up, your eyes met the pupils of the man who, earlier, felt as though he had almost lost everything. 

“I’m sorry, Jo,” you murmured, bowing your head. “I should’ve texted you when I had the chance. I’m seriously so sorry for worrying you—”

“No… no, you shouldn't be sorry,” he shook his head, his voice barely above a whisper. “This is my fault,” he muttered to himself, unbeknownst to you. Something that, deep down, he truly felt that way.

You heard his voice crack like fragile shards, the lump in his throat betraying his true emotions that were so contrary to the aloof facade he puts on in front of others, with his embrace tightening, as if ensuring to himself that you were really there. Togame was so distracted that when he finally let go after what felt like an actual eternity, he saw the bag that you were holding in your hand.

“I- What’s that? I-In your hand.”

“Huh? Oh, this? It's something I brought just for you! I thought of you immediately. They had all sorts of interesting treats, and I remembered how you love trying new things. So, I wanted to get something special just for you.” You laughed nervously, holding up the bag as if to emphasize your point. “I knew that you liked matcha, so I got a portion just for you—”

He hugged you again, not even allowing you a chance to finish speaking. This time, you entirely relaxed your muscles, a smile slowly making its way onto your face as you melted into his embrace, rubbing softly at his lower back.

He cleared his throat, finally pulling back just enough to look into your eyes, reluctantly letting you go. Just for a moment. With a yearning expression, he gazed at you from top to bottom. But it wasn’t so much an expression of worry, but one of pure gratitude. You always thought of him first, and he did the same. As if ignoring all the outside noises, Togame placed his hands gently on the sides of your face, his eyes met yours and shared a smile.

“Welcome home, my love,” he repeated with a tenderness that made you feel truly at home.

CHOJI TOMIYAMA ─ ✦.° ✩

“Choji! I’m back! Oh? Guess he’s not here…” You arrived at your home, but everywhere you looked, appeared to be empty. That is, until a certain someone came up from behind you and snaked his hands around your waist, his breath tickling your ear.

“Well, well!? Did I surprise you?!” CHOJI exclaimed with his signature carefree attitude.

You turned to face him with an exasperated look. “Choji…”

Choji burst into a fit of giggles, but his grin instantly faltered when he saw the tears welling up in your eyes and dripping to the once pristine flooring. “W-Wha— w-why are you crying?!” he exclaimed, his hands fluttering around you in a panicked attempt to comfort you, not like that would work.

Feeling overwhelmed, you lightly shoved him away, “You scared me half to death, Choji!” But that wasn’t enough to push him away, as he curled back right into your arms, locking his arms around your waist to ensure that you weren’t going to escape.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you were going to take so long to come back home…” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear.

“H-Huh?”

“I’m sorry, really. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I just... I wanted to surprise you. I missed you so much… because you didn’t come back, and I couldn’t wait to see you. It's been too quiet around here without you."

"Choji..."

You could see the genuine concern in his eyes. The hearts and stars in his pupils were replaced with worry, so far removed from the usual carefree manner and joy he carried himself with. You didn’t expect Choji to be so worried about you coming home a bit later, but that was an assumption that you never should’ve made. Why wouldn't Choji assume the worst after all the crap he’s been through?

You nestled into his arms, "I missed you too, Choji. It feels good to be home." You took a deep breath, calming yourself as you looked at him. The sincerity in his pupils—the trademark puppy eyes—melted away your initial shock, and you sighed. “It’s okay, Choji. I’m happy to see you. I’ve missed you too. I’m sorry about not telling you earlier.”

Choji’s eyes that were so bright widened with guilt, his hands still hovering as if unsure whether to reach out again. His expression softened, and a grin from ear to ear spread across his face. “I promise, no more sneaking up on you,” he said, a hint of his playful nature returning. “I just wanted to make your homecoming special.”

You smiled, reaching out to take his hand. “Well, it definitely was something different.”

He pulled you into another hug, this time more gentle, and you could feel the tension melting away from both of you. “Welcome back,” he whispered, his voice filled with warmth and love. “I’m so glad you’re here. But don’t ever disappear without telling me next time, please~!”

You could hear him pouting, making you laugh. And as his arms spread wide, welcoming you in, you lightly scoffed at Choji’s antics before immediately entering them.

You threaded your fingers through his soft, curly locks of hair, brushing his bangs out of his eyes as he smiled contentedly.

“Yes, yes, I promise.”

©hxnbi. comments, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated ♡

[roanofarcc]

IS IT CASUAL NOW?

pairing. scott miller (twisters) x fem!reader

summary. what happened between you and scott was supposed to be strictly casual, but when you feelings got too involved, you decided to call it quits. But storms and close calls have a way to bringing out true feelings. 

warnings. allusions to smut but no actual smut, suggestive language, a curse or two, injuries, reader gets hurt, medical descriptions. scott is a little bit of an asshole & a sweetheart (he’s complicated, okay?). idk how I feel about this but I’ve been writing it for what felt like forever & I needed to post it so it stops haunting me.

word count. 3.9k || masterlist

Feelings were messy; they always got in the way of things. You weren’t sure when yours changed or why, but they surely were leading you quickly toward disaster. It was supposed to be a casual thing, a no-strings-attached kind of thing. ‘Sleeping with the enemy’ wasn’t supposed to be anything more than meaningless sex in shitty motels after both of your storm-chasing teams went to sleep. And maybe that was a bit dramatic, but the Wranglers had a flare for dramatics and a hatred for Storm Par. You were caught in the mess you made, unsure of what to do. 

Scott was not the kind of man who wanted a serious relationship. He had a bad attitude and was one-track-minded. But he was just as lonely as you were, and that had quickly become a recipe for a delicious disaster. You two found yourself entangled in a strictly sex-only relationship, unknown to your two teams, enjoyed in the sanctity of midwestern motels. And for a while, the thrill of something so casual with no real stakes was exciting. 

You’d only ever had real relationships, partners you took home to meet your parents, and who bought you dinner. Scott was new territory. He was an asshole, but there was a certain charm that kept you coming back when he called you beautiful while fumbling for the zipper of your jeans or pressing soft kisses to your neck. 

Things between you two were good, but at some point, you couldn’t separate sex from feelings. It started to mean something to you. You tried to ignore it, burying it down deep in your gut, but that only worked for so long. 

Scott never stayed long; he didn’t want anyone to catch him sneaking out of your room. But you hardly ever got the chance to catch your breath before he was searching for his clothes strewn across the floor. You rolled your lips into your mouth, chest still rising and falling heavily, and grabbed your t-shirt from where it had been tossed onto the nightstand. 

“Are you guys following the storms up to Arkansas tomorrow?” he asked, falling back into himself the same way he always did. It was like the moment he stood from the bed, he snapped back into himself, stiff and work focused. 

He was a hard man to understand. You supposed you weren’t really supposed to understand him, that was the nature of your relationship. The less you knew about someone, the easier it was to not care. But you cared too much about everything and everyone. 

“Uh, yeah,” you replied, toying the itchy motel blanket between your fingers. Anxiety twisted in your gut like a storm, bringing unruly waves that flooded your chest and made it tight. “Scott?” 

He hummed in response, tugging on his shoes, not looking at you. It was a band-aid you needed to rip off, but you knew the nasty wound underneath it. You were scoffing it; you couldn’t keep it up. 

“I, um, I don’t know if I can do this anymore.” You held your breath after the words fell from your lips. You didn’t want to say it; you didn’t want to mean it, but if you spent another evening with Scott you’d be done for. Feelings for him ached inside your chest, but you had to snuff them out before they grew any more intense and left you heartbroken in the wake. Being heartbroken for someone who didn’t care much for you beyond sleeping together sounded like a nightmare. You wanted to get ahead of it; no hard feelings. 

He paused, standing up right as he put on his second shoe and furrowed his brows. “Do what?” he said, confused. 

You winced. “This,” you said, pointing between the two of you. “Us.” 

“Why?” Scott lingered by the door, crossing his arms over his chest. He wasn’t a man of many words, curt and to the point you had learned. 

You sighed, casting your gaze onto your lap. You felt small and a little embarrassed that you couldn’t separate sex from feelings. Scott seemed to do it so easily, but they were too intertwined for you. “What we have is good,” you started. “But I think I need something more…real, I guess.” 

“This isn’t real enough for you?” he asked with a raise of his brows. 

“You don’t want a relationship, right?” 

“Right,” he answered, quickly. 

“But I do.” 

Scott was quiet for a moment, his face swarming with emotions you couldn’t pinpoint before they vanished and fell back into his usual, stoic expression. “With me?” 

You smiled sadly, shaking your head even though it felt wrong, even though you were lying, a little. You knew the idea of you and Scott in a real relationship was purely fictional, completely intangible. You were probably the last person on Earth he’d want to date if he ever found himself able to look past his work. But you were soft-hearted and couldn’t help but think about it, even if it was ridiculous. 

“If we keep this up, maybe,” you tried to joke but it fell flat. “But no, I just meant in general. I don’t think I’m really cut out for this.” 

He pursed his lips, looking for a moment like he wanted to say something but decided against it and, instead, nodded slowly. “If that’s what you want.” Scott turned and grabbed the door handle, hesitating before he opened it. You tried to say goodbye, but he slipped out quickly, leaving the words lost in the quietness of your motel room. 

You sighed, falling back against your pillow and bringing your hands up to your face in frustration. You knew you had done the right thing, and it would have hurt even worse if you waited, but it still sucked. You weren’t cut out for casual. 

“Why are you so mopey?” Kate asked, sliding onto the bar stool beside you at the little dinner. You volunteered to grab everyone dinner while they worked on the truck before tomorrow’s storms. Kate followed you, picking up on the sulky attitude you had been trying to hide all day. 

You sighed, tapping the countertop and avoiding her eyes. “It’s nothin’,” you said, trying to add a hint of cheeriness to your tone but it fell flat. 

“If I tell you something, you promise not to get mad at me?” Confused, you glanced over at her. Kate was too sweet for anyone to be mad at her, you were sure of that. Besides, if anyone got mad at Kate, you were sure Tyler would wreak havoc. “Last night, I left my room to grab my phone charger from the truck and I kind of saw…” she looked over her shoulder at the diner’s company before lowering her voice into a whisper. “Scott leaving your room. That’s not why you’re mopey, is it?” 

Your groan answered her. “No one was supposed to find out.” 

She frowned. “I won’t tell, promise.” 

“It doesn’t really matter anymore, I guess.” You shouldn’t have been sad; you were the one who called it off, but it left a little crater in your chest, a stupid feeling. Scott wasn’t someone you brought home to your parents or who would buy you flowers out of the blue. He was a one-night stand kind of guy; he made snarky comments and called you and your team hillbillies. You should have felt good about your decision, but you just couldn’t. 

“We’re not seeing each other anymore,” you said. 

“Why? Did he do something stupid? Because I’ll kick his ass.” 

You smiled at her offer, tempted to take her up on it for your own sake, but it was unreasonable. “I called it off.” 

“Oh,” she said, patting you gently on the shoulder. “I’m sorry.” 

“I don’t know why I’m upset about it.” You wished you could just cross it out of your head, said and done, and wipe your hands clean of it. He was just a guy, but he was stuck on you. “We were just sleeping together; that was it. But…but I’m pathetic.” 

Kate shook her head. “You’re not pathetic; don’t talk like that. Do you…like him?” She nearly winced when she said it, like it was a painful idea even for her to swallow. Scott wasn’t some supervillain, but he was a sore spot for her best friend, Javi. The two had started Storm Par together until their butting heads finally cracked. Javi left Storm Par and joined the Wranglers along with Kate, and Scott had to pivot to fill the gap Javi left. 

“I was starting too, that’s why I called it off.” 

Kate hummed in understanding just as the waitress placed your bags of food on the counter. She helped you gather the takeout with a smile and said, “Well, we’ll just have to find you someone new. Tyler wanted to take everyone out to this bar he and team always stop at during the season. Between all of us, we’ll find you someone even better than Mr. Storm Par.” 

That didn’t sound so bad. 

Oh, but it was. You’re not sure what happened, but it seemed like every decent, single person was taken or nowhere near Arkansas. Instead, the bar was filled with couples, oddballs, and creeps. You sipped on your drink and sank down in the booth, feeling defeated. 

Kate joined you with a huff. “Sorry this turned out to be a total failure,” she said. “I don’t know what happened to all of the hot, decent, single people.” From across the booth, Tyler made a noise as he swallowed his beer and put his hands out in an ‘excuse me?’ manner. Kate smiled and shook her head. “For her,” she said, pointing to you. 

Tyler nodded in understanding. “Ah, I didn’t know you were looking.” 

You cleared your throat. “It’s, uh, a new endeavor.” Because you’d been so preoccupied with sleeping with Scott for the last couple of months, you hadn’t even thought about seeking someone else out, a real relationship. To your friends, you were simply content in your singleness, but that wasn’t the truth whatsoever. 

“Well, I don’t think you’re gonna find anyone here,” Boone said, scanning the bar. The front door opened and in poured more people. His face twisted. “Unless you wanna shack up with one of Storm Par,” he laughed and his friends around the table echoed it, aside from Kate and yourself. Instead, your eyes widened as you turned your head to follow Boone’s gaze. Into the bar walked Storm Par, still dressed in their uniforms and looking out of place. Your staring caught Scott’s eye. He held your gaze for a moment, same stoic expression until he blinked and turned his attention onto the bar as they approached it. 

On the other side of Kate, Javi hummed. “Hey, maybe they’re loosening up a bit. I don’t remember the last time Scott willing walked into a bar,” he said. 

You laughed fakely along with your friends while Kate comfortingly squeezed your hand under the table. 

You sat and drank with the Wranglers for a while, sneaking subtle glances at Scott every now and then, only to find his attention glued to the shelves of liquor behind the bar or one of his teammates. It wasn’t until the smell of smoke and the taste of beer became a little overwhelming did you slide out of the booth and excused yourself to grab some air outside. 

The nighttime air filled your lungs the second you stepped outside. You leaned against the brick exterior of the bar, gazing out into the quiet street. People passed in and out of the bar, some laughing alongside their friends, others grumbling under their whiskey-tainted breath. You hardly paid them mind, until you felt someone’s eyes on you. For a moment, a slight worry plagued you, until you turned your head and found a familiar face approaching you. 

“Hey,” you greeted Scott with a tight-lipped smile. 

He looked a little uncomfortable, his hair disheveled and uniform wrinkled from the rowdy company of the bar. He let out a breath before he said, “Hi," and joined you against the building. He left a wide gap like you were a little more than strangers but less than anything else. 

“I’m surprised to see you guys here.” 

Scott sighed, somewhere between disgruntled and mocking amusement. “Wasn’t my idea. It’s ruining my reputation as a stick in the mud.” 

You laughed despite yourself, and he met your gaze. “Oh, somebody’s got jokes now?” 

He half smiled, fixing his gaze out on the street. “I’m full of surprises.” A quiet moment passed between you two. In the fresh spring air, there was still a tension that tugged on you. It felt odd, being so close to him without either hurling jabs back and forth in the company of your teammates or kissing him while your hands roamed.

Scott cleared his throat. “You’re sure about, uh, you know, ending this?” The way he asked sounded casual like you weren’t sharing something intimate. 

You nodded until you realized he wasn’t looking at you. “Yeah,” you answered. 

He peeled himself off of the brick wall and turned toward you. A rock settled in your gut; that was why he came outside, to make sure you didn’t have a change of heart. You didn’t know why, exactly, that irritated you. Maybe a stupidly hopeful part of you thought maybe he had changed his mind and was looking for something less casual and more real. But he wasn’t. 

Then he just left, heading back inside and leaving you to blow air from your cheeks. 

The storm had blown in with a vengeance. The town was supposed to be a pit stop on your team’s and other storm chasers' way toward bigger storms developing further east, but it became the hub of a sneaky but violent front. You stumbled out of the truck and into the powerful winds that nearly knocked you up against the door you struggled to shut. 

The Wranglers looked for cover, helping some unprepared stragglers along into the nearby buildings. You made a move to follow them, but you hesitated when you saw one of Storm Par’s trucks parked alongside a sidewalk a little way down the road. One of the newest members rushed in your direction, towards the shelter, but the other person beside the truck didn’t. Scott stood there with his phone at his ear, struggling against the wind to be heard. 

You sucked in a breath before turning around, bee-lining for the building you saw the rest of the Wrangler rush into. But once you reached the doors, pulling them open for a group of people to run inside, you felt the storm grow stronger, the rain running sideways in the wind that was determined to blow over everything in its path. You weren’t sure what exactly compelled you to spare another look over your shoulder at Scott’s truck, but there was a tug on your gut that you couldn’t ignore. And when you did, your heart dropped violently. 

Scott was on the ground, pressed between the sidewalk and a mess of debris. Though it was difficult to see clearly through the rain, you were close enough to notice him struggle as the tornado loomed closer. 

It was out of instinct that you abandoned the safety of the shelter and hurried across the road. Storm chasing had created a bad habit of putting others first in dangerous weather, a need to be helpful in the wake of a disaster. 

You dodged flying debris as you crossed the distance and arrived to find Scott trying to shove a large metal ladder that must’ve come flying off the top of someone’s van. He looked a little dazed, rain in his eyes and hands cut up from where he probably tried to block the blow that came in too quickly. 

You quickly grabbed a rung and started to pull before he groaned in pain. “Shit!” he hissed, blinking away the water from his eyes to clear up his vision enough to notice you. “W-What are you doing?” he yelled above the howl of the wind. 

“What does it look like I’m doing?” you said quickly, pulling harder despite your slippery hands. The ladder was heavy, and the conditions only made it ten times harder to get it to budge, but between the two of you, you managed to shove it off of Scott. He rolled onto his side, face contorted in pain as he placed a hand on his ribs where the ladder had been pressed against. “Come on, we’ve gotta go!” You pulled him up by the arm, ignoring his groans of protest. 

The second he was standing upright, he stared at you with wide eyes and chest heaving. Your attention fell onto the sky and storm. Not thinking about much other than getting the hell out of the storm’s way, you grabbed Scott by the hand and pulled him toward the building. You moved quickly, despite whatever injuries he possessed, and were almost there when something hurled through the air. Before you could react, duck out of the way, or even attempt to avoid it, the object sliced across your forehead. 

Pain bloomed across your skin, stopping you in your tracks. You brought your hand up to your forehead. For a moment, you thought it was just rain that coated your skin, but when you pulled your hand back, it was red-coated. 

Scott tugged on your hand, his face twisted in a mix of emotions you were too dazed to read. He pulled you the rest of the way to the building. The world was a blur, a mix of colors that blood seeped into, staining your vision and making panic stretch uncomfortably inside your chest. People were gathered near the back wall, far from the windows. Scott pulled you down, his hand pressed firmly against your forehead. 

Glass exploded as the windows shattered. Everyone gasped and pressed themselves impossibly close to the back wall. The pain in your head battled your increasing panic, making it hard to breathe. 

Scott noticed, using his free hand to grip your shoulder. “It’s all right,” he said, voice unsteady. “You’re all right.” But you did feel like it. The world grew blurrier by the minute. You felt your eyes flutter against your will. The cut across your head must’ve been deep. Little black dots spotted your vision, despite your attempt to fight it. Your head dropped, falling into Scott. He kept his hand pressed against your cut and used his other to wrap around you, his own breath panicked as you fell unconscious. 

The lights were too bright when you woke up, groggy and disoriented. With a disgruntled hum, you lulled your head side to side as your eyes fluttered open. 

“Oh, thank goodness,” a voice filled your ears, light and relived. You blinked and Kate stood hovering over you with a small smile on her lips. 

“You gave us a heart attack,” Tyler said. 

“Sorry,” you managed to say, despite the dryness in your throat. “Everyone okay?” 

Kate nodded, patting the top of your hand. “The team’s all right; you were the only one who took a hit.” You wanted to ask about Scott, but Kate must’ve read your mind because she added, “Storm Par was all right too.” 

“Yeah, I think you short-circuited Mr. Robot. I’ve never seen Scott so bend out of shape after you passed out,” Tyler said, making your gut twist oddly. “He said you saved his ass.” 

You tried to sit up, but pain rippled throughout your head, causing you to wince and sink back down. Kate shot Tyler a look as if to say ‘stop talking’ and he listened. “You got a couple of stitches and a concussion. But the doctor said you should be back to feeling like yourself in a week or so.” 

With a sigh, you replied, “Great.” 

A soft knock sounded from the door. Tyler opened it and looked surprised as it swung open to reveal Scott. He looked surprised himself like he wasn’t sure he should be there. Nevertheless, he cleared his throat and offered Tyler a look that was different than his usual scowl. 

“What’d you want?” Tyler asked, but Kate quickly rushed to his side and placed a hand on his shoulder, telling him to stand down. 

“Ty, we should go find the doctor.” She turned her head back to you for confirmation that you were okay with Scott visiting, and you nodded. 

Tyler looked confused. “What-” Kate started to drag him out of the room, side-stepping Scott before she gently nudged him inside. She and Tyler disappeared into the hall, leaving you with Scott. He pulled his hand out from behind his back to reveal a small bouquet of flowers. 

“Hi,” you greeted, offering him a small smile. 

He returned it and moved to your bedside. “Hi,” he said. “How are you feeling?” 

“Like I’ve been hit in the head,” you answered honestly. There was a light throbbing behind your eyes, dulled by the medication the doctor must’ve given you while you were out. “But it’s not too bad. How are you?” 

“Besides a couple bruises, not in too bad of shape.” Scott pressed his lips together in a thin line, hesitating for a moment. “Mostly just been worried…about you.” 

A warmness filled your chest, and you were too groggy to fight it off. He was worried about you, which you should have brushed off; you had passed out on him, so it wasn’t a crazy idea. But it felt big. 

“I’m okay.” You didn’t know what else you were supposed to say. 

He placed the bouquet of flowers on the little table beside the bed. “These are for you.” 

“They’re pretty. Thank you.” 

For a moment, there was a still tension that pulled between you, like it was waiting for someone to make a tug. You felt your better judgment slip, replaced by the urge to say something you’d probably regret, but Scott beat you to it. 

“Uh, I-I know this is bad timing but if I don’t say something now, I probably won’t,” he started, much to your surprise and confusion. “I know you said you wanted to call this thing,” he pointed between the two of you. “Off. But I don’t.” 

You sighed, “But-” 

“I know,” he cut you off. “You want something real. A relationship. And I don’t. Or…I thought I didn’t. But the more I’ve been thinking about it, I like being with you. I don’t want to…not be with you. I want to be with you more, actually, not just us sleeping together. If you still want something real, then so do I.” 

You blinked, stunned by his sudden confession. The heat spread from your chest, up your neck, and to your face. “Really?” 

“Really,” he said, his lips quirking upwards in a smile that made the fluorescent lights look dim. “If I hadn’t screwed it up too much already.” 

With a quick shake of your head, you returned his grin, and his body shifted in relief. “I like being with you too.” 

“When you’re feeling better, let me take you on a real date, somewhere a hell of a lot nicer than those motels.” His hand ghosted over yours and you quickly intertwined your fingers with his before you pulled him down to your level. 

“You are full of surprises, huh?” you joked, your cheeks hurting from smiling. 

He shrugged. “I told ‘ya.” 

[forlix]

· . ˚ 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

— the moments in which the members of stray kids realize how they truly feel about you.

words・1.4k / pairings・ot8 x gn!reader / warnings・depictions of conflict and anxiety in hyunjin's and han's / genres・domestic fluff, smidges of hurt/comfort, established relationships

a/n・thought i'd try out a new fic format :-) i had so much fun writing these and hope you like reading them just as much. any and all feedback is appreciated, as always!

chan is in a heated staring contest with his notepad when the door opens, and he knows that it’s you who comes in, but his head is miles away, tangled in an amalgamation of syllables and rhythms. he goes on to forget that you’re here for a short while, poring over the unfinished lyrics in front of him with undivided focus. that is, until he feels a gentle hand on his shoulder.

you’ve just pulled a chair up next to his desk. “lemme see,” you say, gesturing to the notepad. there’s a surprised pause, and then chan places it in your hand, scoots closer to you.

you spend the next two hours talking him through his block, but there are periods when you fall silent to brainstorm or to write something down, and chan takes those quiet opportunities just to look at you: wearing one of his old t-shirts, your hair still damp from your shower, completely concentrated. and he knows, then, that he wants to marry you.

minho doesn’t realize he loves you in a singular moment. rather, he has a faint inkling for some time, and then the rug is randomly pulled from beneath his feet, and all of a sudden he can’t remember a version of his world that didn't have you at its center.

there are times when he’s especially aware of his feelings, though. like when he throws a witty remark in your direction and your retort comes back twice as sharp. when your eyes and smile light up like lanterns as you talk to him about your passions. when one (or all) of his cats hover at your side as you go about your day. when he returns home after a grueling practice and you’re there to offer him your comfort, no matter his withdrawn demeanor or sweaty skin.

he is a quiet lover, and sometimes he worries that he’s too quiet, that you have no idea what’s going on inside him every time he looks at you. but words have never really been necessary with minho. you know. you just do.

changbin is greeted by a chilly breeze when he emerges from the gym, and he silently chastizes himself for forgetting to bring an outer layer yet again. but the temperature moves to the back of his mind when he spots you, waiting on the sidewalk, as you said you would. a familiar grin breaks across your face when you see him, and he feels its shape against his lips when he runs over and kisses you, in lieu of hello.

“what are you feeling for dinner?” you ask once he’s pulled away, and he realizes that you’ve pressed something to his chest: one of the hoodies that he keeps at your place, still soft and warm from just coming out of the dryer. and boom—the epiphany hits him, instantly and unequivocally.

he is dumbfounded for a moment, just processing the newfound discovery; and then, out of nowhere, the two of you say the name of the same restaurant at the same time. he swears he never believed in soulmates until he met you.

hyunjin has always held so many emotions in his heart so fervently, to the point that they sometimes overflow in the form of words that he doesn’t believe, in a tone that he doesn’t intend. and it happened again today, when he spoke to you the wrong way in a moment of pure impulse, and the surprise on your face morphed into poorly-disguised hurt.

a few hours later, the weight of his actions sits heavily on his shoulders. when he lifts his phone to call you, his hands are shaking a little, and a breathy apology spills from his lips the moment he hears you on the other end: “i’m sorry, angel. i’m trying, i promise. i really am.” to which you answer, “i know, hyune. i forgive you. we’ll keep trying together, okay?” and your words pull his heartstrings in a new direction entirely.

he asks if he can come over, you say yes, and he tells you he loves you as soon as you open the door. he’s done hiding his heart from you.

jisung’s contagious grin and raucous cackle come easily to him for the most part, but there are times when he forgets how it feels to laugh or to breathe, times when he wants only to hide from the world and all of its scariest parts. and when you see his figure in the doorway tonight, his face cast in a nameless shadow, his shoulders sunken in quiet defeat, you understand immediately that this is one of those times.

“do you wanna talk about it?” you ask as he approaches you. silently, he shakes his head: not tonight. but his body language asks for what he cannot verbalize. you extend your arms toward him, and he buries himself in them the second he’s close enough to, his face nestling the crook of your neck, the tension in his limbs melting at your gentle touch. you stay there for a long time, rubbing circles between his shoulder blades, coaxing him back to the ground, back to you.

wherever he chooses to hide, he thinks he’d like to take you with him.

when felix opens his eyes, the space in the bed next to him is empty, and the faint scent of flour and sugar wafts through the gap beneath his door.

he gets to his feet, throws on some clothes, and wanders in the direction of the smell, rubbing the sleep from his eyes—and the sight that awaits him makes him wonder if he’s still dreaming. you’re standing at the stove, still in your pajamas, hair slightly disheveled from your rest, and there are pancakes in the frying pan before you; sliced strawberries on the cutting board next to the stove. and the look of sheer focus on your face, as if staring at the pancakes will cook them faster, absolutely destroys him. (and he knows in that moment that he wants to wake up to you for the rest of his life.)

with an enamored smile, he wraps his arms around your waist, pulls your back to his chest, and presses a light kiss to the nape of your neck. “morning, beautiful,” he mumbles sweetly. “how fucking lucky am i?”

being around you makes seungmin feel like a kid with a crush. he smiles brighter and laughs louder. he opens like a lotus in bloom when you say his name. the floaty sensation he gets when you kiss his cheek or hold his hand persists for hours afterward—and none of it makes any fucking sense to him. it’s not that he doesn’t believe in love, but he’s never believed that love could feel like this, straight out of a sonnet.

now, your head is on his shoulder, your body rising and falling in your slumber. seungmin looks at your interlocked hands where they rest on his knee, and at the current track displayed on his lockscreen: “still” by day6, a song about losing and loving, about regret and reminiscence. those bright days between us are over, the lyrics go, and he makes a silent promise to your sleeping form that the bright days between the two of you will never end.

the word "love" still doesn't cross his mind, but it is etched all over his face, and carved into his soul.

you and jeongin are telling each other about your days over dinner when your phone lights up with an incoming call, and he nearly spits out his mouthful when he sees who it’s from. for a few seconds, the two of you just stare at each other in flabbergasted silence. but then, you raise your phone to your ear: “hi, grandma! to what do i owe this pleasure?”

and the voice of his grandmother comes back through the receiver. she tells you that she’s just gone on an evening walk and found herself thinking of you, so she wanted to see how you’re doing; if you’re taking care of yourself. you rush to thank her, looking entirely flustered, and a bit like you’re about to burst into tears.

with that, the two of you launch into chatter about everything under the sun: grocery store discounts, the recent humidity, jeongin’s bad habits, you name it. and it finally dawns on jeongin how inextricably embedded in his life you have become—and that he doesn’t want it any other way.

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · all works are pieces of original writing and all characters and relationships are purely fictional. please do not repost or reuse for any reason.

[lunajay33]

Waiting🖤

Summary: After decades of being alone without a love of his own he finally finds her in a gloomy town of forks, his brother Edward isn’t the only lucky one

Pairing: Emmett Cullen x f! Swan reader

Warning: angsty, fluffy sunshine Emmett

•Masterlist•

I never thought much about the future until suddenly the friends I adored most started relationships and left me in the past as if our friendship never even mattered, like their boyfriend was the most important thing

My sister and I use to be close as kids but when she moved away with our mom and rarely visited me and dad, who she regularly called Charlie, we grew apart leaving me feeling like I lost all my friends and my sister, after a while I grew depressed and I never wanted to leave the house, dad grew concerned and after many absent calls from school he allowed me to start home schooling myself and my grades have never been better

Most nights it was just me and Charlie some days I’d get the courage to go down to the reserve hang out on the beach with Leah, Seth and Jake, sometimes I’d go for hikes in the forest behind the house just to clear my head, but other than that I’d stay in my room listening to music, reading the books dad would bring home for me, and doing school work

That’s how life was for so many years, it was routine and it never bothered me and dad loved having me around, after Bella and mom left he was so broken and with my help, even as a little girl, I pulled him out of that deep dark hole and he became that Charlie that joked around and made me smile

But then dad got the call that Bella was moving back for the rest of highschool since mom would be traveling with Phil for baseball, hopeful that I could reconnect with my sister again

Dad and I picked out a new bed spread for her hoping she’d love it, and he even let me pick out a new book as a thank you for helping him out with getting everything ready for her arrival, after a few days it was time for dad to go pick Bella up from the airport in port angeles, I was a nervous wreck which was crazy I mean she’s my sister why should I be nervous

Finally the familiar sheriff cruiser pulled up in the drive way, I walked out the door with an umbrella quickly shuffling over to Bella to cover her from the rain knowing how she favoured the warm dry weather, complete opposite of me

“Welcome home Bella!” I smiled as we walked back inside as dad got her bags following closely behind

She shook off her coat and placed her little cactus down on the counter

“You’ve grown so much you’re a year younger but you’re already taller than me” she said as she hugged me

“Come on bells we’ll show you your room!” Dad said as he walked up the stairs with her bags

She settled in for the rest of the day until it was supper time, I set out the table and dished up our meal, dads game playing in the background as we ate

“So are you excited for school on Monday?” I asked

“Not really but atleast I’ll have you there”

“What? No im homeschooled remember”

“Well…..” dad drawled out

“Dad what did you do?” My heart was racing now at the implication

“I thought since Bella’s back now it would be good for you to get out there again, you need some experiences honey”

“But you know I have no one there, no one wants to be friends with me we’ve been over this”

“You might make new friends honey, give give it a chance for your old man” I sighed slumping back in my chair trying to wrap my head around having to socialize again

“Atleast you’ll be with me, dad said since your grades are so good you got bumped up a grade and can have some certain classes together, depending on our courses” that settled my anxiety a little

Bella and dad cleaned up from dinner as I sat out on the porch, in desperate need for fresh air to do its magic, only 2 more days and I’ll be back in a school again, who knows maybe some new kids have arrived and aren’t too set in their groups yet

Monday came quickly and I was a ball of nerves, I glanced in the mirror as made sure my hair was just the way I wanted, wearing a casual outfit, simple flared black leggings, a dark rich blue longsleeve with my old worn out dark brown carhartt jacket, quickly spraying my vanilla perfume

I walked down stairs to meet Bella in the kitchen, she grabbed an apple as she picked up her backpack from the table

“Are you ready to go?” She asked

“Almost can I make a tea quickly?” She nodded and I quickly wiped together a chai tea latte, grabbing my lunch from the fridge and meeting her in the truck dad had gotten for us but since I didn’t have my license, seeing as I never needed one before now, she would be driving us

The drive to school was calming, hearing the steady rain fall against the windshield, pulling into the parking lot everyone stared until we got out, I kept my eyes down as Bella led me to the schools main office

“Okay here’s your schedule, we have math together at the end of the day, the bells about to ring so I gotta head to world history are you good to find your way to chemistry?”

“Oh ummm yeah I’ll be fine”

“Okay see you at lunch” she smiled gently before she left down the hall

Looking at my schedule I memorized the room number hoping it wouldn’t be too hard to find, turning the corner I rammed into what felt like a brick wall, dropping my books I look infront of me to see the most beautiful guy I’ve ever seen, his eyes a golden amber, hair as dark as night and his skin as pale as snow

“Sorry about that, I haven’t seen you around before” he said soothingly as he handed me the books that had momentarily scattered the floor, not even realizing he had picked them up, too busy oogling him I suppose

“Oh yeah I’m just re-enrolling here again, just trying to find my class” he looked down at my schedule a striking smile adorning his face

“Come this way gorgeous, got the same class” walking along the mostly bare hallways I noticed his gentle glide, I’ve never seen such a…..well such a perfect human, obviously I was way out of my league if I could think he’d ever be interested in me, I mean I’m plain and simple what would he ever see in me, best I stay in my lane, but dad did want me to make friends so that couldn’t hurt….right?

We got to the classroom and the teacher assigned us to sit together, the class went by pretty boring, every now and then I’d take glances at Emmett and I swear he did the same but he was probably just looking at someone else, moments like this made me wish I was a beautiful as my sister, she never had a problem with guys wanting her, they basically drooled over her, even if she never acted on any offers she was still wanted

It felt like I was a living ghost most days, no one noticed me anywhere I’d go, a big reason I wanted to be homeschooled, now I’m thrown back into this miserable place, I’ll bet by lunch time Bella with have a table full of new friends while I sit alone, not even a second glance from anyone

Lunch time rolled around and as I entered the cafeteria I searched for Bella and just as I guessed she was surrounded with bright smiles, excited to get to know her, she glanced my way and I waved hoping she’d wave me over to sit but she just gave a half assed smile and got back to talking with her new friends, I felt my heart rip at that, thinking things would be different this time with her here but I guess I was wrong

I found an empty table near the windows and made myself comfortable for another lonely lunch, I pulled out my bag from my backpack but my appetite was lost and I had no desire to eat so I just pushed my lunch to the side and looked out the window just wanting to go home

{Emmett’s POV}

I couldn’t get her out of my head, she’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen and her blood sings to me, when she bumped into me in the hallway I felt my whole world shift, she didn’t talk much but just being near her felt right

Lunch came, my least favourite part of the day, having to pretend for an hour, I glanced around the cafeteria hoping to catch a glimpse of my mate again, my eyes landed on her sat alone looking glum a few tables down, the others followed my gaze and smiled knowingly

“Who’s she?” Rosalie asked

“I think she’s my mate”

“Her thoughts are overwhelming loud” Edward stated

“What do you mean?” I asked nervously

“She’s not the happiest girl, I can hear how depressed she is, how unwanted she feels”

“I can feel how broken her heart is” Jasper added

This has to be the worst feeling knowing the one I’m suppose to love unconditionally and she is quite perfect in my eyes, has been broken and feels unloved

I got up from the table and made my way to her sliding in the seat across from her, her eyes were so glazed over with sadness she didn’t even realize I sat down

{Normal pov}

“So how’s your first day?” I jumped snapping out of my thoughts noticing Emmett is sat across from me

“Oh sorry I didn’t see you, ummm today has been fine I guess, thanks again for helping me earlier”

“It’s not problem, umm I was wondering maybe if you’re not too busy this weekend if you’d wanna hang out?” My heart raced at this

“Really? You wanna hang out with me?”

“Yeah of course, who would wanna spend time with the most beautiful girl in the school” his smile warmed my heart but quickly faded at a realization

“Is this a prank, because if it is it’s cruel” I said as my bottom lip wobbled

“No what? I would never do something like that I really wanna get to know you, so how about after school on Friday I’ll meet you in the parking lot and we can go do something?”

“Okay……sure id really like that” his face beamed with excitement

“Perfect it’s a date then gorgeous”

This felt surreal there’s no way there wasn’t a catch here, how could someone wanna spend their free time with me, but like Charlie said it doesn’t hurt to try, I just hope this doesn’t break my heart more

Part 2

[norrizzandpia]

Heyo! I’m totally obsessed with your writing at the moment, can’t put my phone down! Have you seen the video of Mila watching Lando on tv and calling him “lala”? Was wondering if you could write a fic with that in it?

I have had an idea for this specific video sitting in my head FOR AGES

Lala (LN4)

Summary: When Y/n meets Lando’s family for the first time, Lando warns her about his niece who glues to his side whenever he’s around. What she isn’t expecting, however, is the heart melting nicknames he has been given. It prompts some interesting confessions.

Warnings: none

“Baby, one more thing before we go in.” Lando murmured from beside his girlfriend. His hand in wrapped in hers and she fidgeted with his fingers, nervous for the moments that were about to ensue.

Her head tilted up to look at him, “Yeah?”

A small smile graced his face and his eyes softened as he began, “My niece, Mila, likes to stick by me whenever I’m around. I don’t know how much time we’ll get alone during the next few hours.”

Y/n giggled, “Lan, that’s fine. That’s sweet anyway, means you’re good with kids.”

She whispered the last part, eyeing him suspiciously before he whispered an i love you and kissed her temple. His hand knocked against the slab of wood in front of them, anxiety heightening as Y/n began to hear footsteps approaching.

Cisca appeared, bright face and warmness to her that made Y/n feel immediately welcomed.

“Oh, how nice it is to meet you! Lando never stops talking about you!” She yelled, throwing her arms around the girl and rubbing her back lovingly.

Lando blushed as Y/n laughed, “What? There’s a lot to brag about.”

Y/n leaned into him, hand wrapped around his arm as they stepped through the threshold, “That’s sweet, Lando.”

“You’re swee-” He began, but is interrupted by the rapid beatings of little footsteps. His brother and his sister-in-law followed close behind the little girl who rounded the corner with loud giggles.

“Lala!! Lalalala!!” She screeched, arms open as she made grabby hands at Lando from her stance in front of him. Y/n’s brain began catching up with the moment, the nickname sinking in and her heart warming at the sentiment.

Lando picked Mila up, kissing her cheeks and tickling her sides lightly as he laughed with her. The image is something Y/n never wants to forget, Lando in his true element with his favorite people.

Oliver and Savannah stop, looking lovingly at Lando and their daughter, before turning their attention to his girlfriend, “Hi, it’s so great to finally meet you!”

Y/n is still entranced by the feelings stirring in her tummy to genuinely put all her thoughts into a conversation between the couple, “It’s nice to meet you as well!”

A beat passes before Y/n asks, “Did she just call Lando Lala?”

Oliver chuckles, “Yeah. She can’t pronounce his name, so it’s always been Lala.”

Lando meets Y/n’s eye, a twinkle in them he had never seen before, “Cute, right?”

Y/n’s jaw drops, “Cute? Oh my god, it’s adorable!”

The four laugh together before Savannah steals Mila away, whines emitting from the little girl in the wake of being removed from Lando’s arms. Alone in the foyer, Lando turns to Y/n, “She made me realize I think I could do the whole dad thing.”

Y/n grins, “At this point, after witnessing that, I’m going to need you to do the whole dad thing.”

Lando throws his head back as he laughs. Pulling her into him by the waist and kissing her forehead, “Yeah? Kids? A year into our relationship?”

She smacks his chest, “Not now, love. But… in a few years…” She fixes the buttons on his shirt, “Probably.”

His hand over one side of her face, Lando kisses her hair forcefully, “Good. I love you too much not to experience that with you.”

Infamous giggling returns and Savannah yelling for Mila creates new chaos as the girl rounds the same corner once more, waddling quickly to her favorite uncle. When she gets to him, Lando is already waiting, knelt down, for her with his arms outstretched.

“Lala!” She screams again and Y/n is almost ready to tell Lando she wants one now.

Lando’s arms smother Mila as he kisses her head, shaking his head at Savannah when she tries to take her child.

“I got her, it’s fine.” He says, standing up once more.

Savannah tilts her head, “You sure?”

Lando nods softly with a smile, feeling Mila rest her head on his shoulder, “Yeah, I only get to see her so often anyway.”

Savannah shrugs, leaving the room. Lando moves to get to the living room where the rest of his family is, but Y/n stops him for a moment.

Mila’s eyes are closing, Y/n can see, so she speaks in a whisper, “Thank you for letting me meet your family. I love seeing you like this, Lan.”

His eyebrows furrow, “Seeing me like what?”

She kisses the side of his mouth, careful of the sleeping girl in his arms, “Just seeing you right where you belong. Where you’re most comfortable. This is your home, I’m just happy you’re letting me into it.”

Lando coos, “Baby, you are very quickly becoming my home.”

[idkyetxoxo]

Cregan Stark - Frozen Ties

Summary - Forced into a marriage to secure alliances, she navigates the confines of her new life facing emotional turmoil and a complicated relationship. An unexpected act of kindness from her husband kindles hope, making her reconsider their union and find warmth in the icy politics.

Pairing - Cregan Stark x Targaryen reader

Warnings - None

Word count - 2437

Masterlist for Cregan • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

"Mother, this is absurd! You can't promise me to him, you can't just send me away like this," I cried, my voice breaking as tears spilt down my cheeks. 

I stood before my weary mother, who wrung her hands together anxiously, her face etched with sorrow.

"My sweet daughter, I wish things were different, but this is necessary," she said, her voice heavy with regret. "You must marry him. We need the North's support."

"They have already declared for Rhaenyra," I protested, frustration making my voice tremble. I knew all too well how Aemond's newfound power had corrupted him.

"Does he truly think I can change Lord Stark's mind?" I continued, her hands gently cupping my face as she wiped away my tears.

"You know what Aemond is," she said softly.

"A monster," I mumbled, and she sighed deeply.

"That is not how you should speak about your king," a voice cut through our despair. We both turned to the door, where Aemond stood, composed and authoritative, his hands clasped behind his back.

"You, dear sister, will fulfil your duties as required," he said, advancing toward us with purposeful strides.

"I don't want to," I said defiantly. Aemond's face darkened with fury, his eye narrowing into a cold, merciless slit. He snatched my chin with a brutal grip, his fingers digging into my skin like talons, forcing me to meet his unyielding gaze. 

Alicent gasped, calling out his name in alarm, moving swiftly to try and intervene.

"Do as you're told and ensure he listens, or you'll be of no use to this family," Aemond commanded, shoving me back with a harshness that made me stumble. 

Tears flowed freely as I stared at the ground. 

My fate was sealed, and there was nothing left for me to do but accept it.

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───

The icy winds of the North tore through my cloak, each gust slicing into my skin like a blade. The endless expanse of snow and the pale, unforgiving sky mirrored the numbness that had taken root in my heart, where warmth and hope had once dwelled.

Each step toward Winterfell felt heavier, burdened by the weight of my impending marriage.

Upon arrival, I was met with a formal courtesy that did little to ease my anxiety. Winterfell, with its majestic yet unwelcoming presence, felt like a fortress of cold indifference. The great halls, silent and vast, bore witness to my inner turmoil.

Lord Cregan Stark awaited me in his dining hall, a brooding figure amidst the cold stone and flickering hearth. I entered with a mixture of trepidation and resolve. 

As he rose from his seat, his gaze was steady and unreadable.

"Lord Stark," I began, my voice trembling slightly but firm, "I need to understand why you agreed to this marriage. You have already pledged your support to Rhaenyra. How can you reconcile this with what's being forced upon me?"

He regarded me thoughtfully, his eyes reflecting years of experience and wisdom despite his youth. He gestured for me to take a seat across from him, and I did so, my heart pounding in my chest.

"When I pledged my support to Princess Rhaenyra, it was with the hope of ensuring stability and peace for the realm. Yet, the realm's stability is fragile, easily disturbed by shifting allegiances and the ambitions of those in power."

I leaned forward, gripping the armrests of my chair. "But why this marriage? Why agree to something that feels like a betrayal to your cause and to me?"

His expression softened, and he leaned back, considering his words. "In the intricate dance of politics, difficult choices must sometimes be made. This marriage, though forced, is intended to secure a delicate balance. The North's support is crucial, but so is the stability of our alliances. A strong marriage alliance can offer more security than mere pledges of support."

"But at what cost?" I asked, my voice trembling as a fresh wave of fear gripped my heart. "At the cost of my happiness and dignity?"

He looked at me with sympathy and resolve. "Sacrifices are often necessary for the greater good. I understand the personal toll this takes on you, and it is not a decision made lightly but it is my duty to ensure the North remains a steadfast ally, and this marriage is part of that duty."

I stared at him, struggling to reconcile his words with my reality. The burden of my impending marriage, the personal sacrifice, and the political manoeuvring felt overwhelming.

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───

A month had passed since our wedding, and the reality of my new life had settled in with an unrelenting chill. Each day felt like a repetition of the last, my existence reduced to a monotonous cycle of needlework and solitary moments with the horses. 

The stark beauty of the North, once so captivating, now seemed to mock me with its cold indifference.

I spent my mornings hunched over delicate threads, my fingers moving with mechanical precision. Needlework, though a distraction, was a constant reminder of how far removed I was from the life I once imagined.

In the afternoons, I would find myself wandering to the stables, seeking the comfort of the horses. Their warmth and calm offered brief solace from my sorrow. I cherished them, knowing they were the closest I would ever get to the dragon I longed to see again. 

As I brushed their coats, the tenderness in my touch reflected my deep yearning for connection. Yet, despite their gentle company, they could not fill the void left by my unmet desires and the strained nature of my marriage.

The horses, though beloved, were not my dragon.

Evenings were the hardest. As night fell and shadows lengthened across Winterfell, I retreated to my chambers with a heavy heart. 

The bed that once promised comfort now felt like a cage, and sleep came with difficulty. I would lie there, staring at the cold stone walls, my thoughts racing through a labyrinth of regret and despair.

Cregan, despite his stoic demeanour, was not blind to my misery. He saw the weariness in my movements and the sorrow in my eyes. He knew that the woman he had married had become a shadow, trapped in a life she had never chosen.

One evening, as I prepared for bed, I heard a soft knock on my chamber door. Cregan entered without waiting for an invitation, his presence a contrast to the cold, impersonal walls of my room. 

"May I join you?" he asked gently, though an underlying tension lingered.

I nodded, and he sat beside me, his eyes searching mine with an intensity that belied his usual composure.

"It's been a month," he began, his tone measured yet empathetic. "And I can see how this life has taken its toll on you."

I looked away, unable to meet his gaze, feeling the weight of his words. "You have no reason to concern yourself with my happiness, Lord Stark. I am here to fulfil my duties, not to seek solace."

"That's not entirely true," he said softly. "You are my wife, and it is my duty to ensure you are content, or at least as content as possible in this harsh land."

I sighed, the words catching in my throat. "This life is a cage, and I am its prisoner. I find no joy in my days, no comfort in my nights. I am lost in a place that is not my home, with a future that was never mine to choose."

He reached out, placing a reassuring hand on mine. His touch was warm, a contrast to the cold that had settled in my heart. "I understand this is not what you envisioned. But perhaps, if you allow it, we could find a way to make this arrangement more bearable."

I looked at him, my heart aching with a mix of gratitude and scepticism. "What can be done? I am bound to this life, and it feels as though my desires and dreams are nothing more than echoes in the wind."

"I am a dragon, I am blood and fire," I declared with a fervent intensity, my voice echoing the fierce spirit within me. "You are ice and snow. We were never meant to be." 

The words seemed to strike him deeply, causing a visible pain to cross his features.

His eyes met mine, filled with sadness and something softer, perhaps understanding. He took a deep breath as if steeling himself for what he was about to say.

"Perhaps we weren't meant to be," he conceded, his voice low but firm. "But here we are, bound by vows, by duty, by the threads of fate. And I refuse to believe that fate is so cruel as to leave us without choices."

I scoffed, a bitter smile curling my lips. "Choices? What choices do I have? I did not choose to come here, nor to marry you. Everything was decided for me—by kings, by lords, by the whims of men who never cared to ask what I wanted."

He flinched, as though struck, but his hand remained steady on mine.

For a moment, there was only the sound of our breathing, heavy and uneven. The tension between us was undeniable, a taut string ready to snap. 

His eyes bored into mine, his frustration clear but his sincerity even clearer.

"Then tell me," I said, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to steady it. "What is it you want from me, Lord Stark? What is it you truly desire?"

He hesitated, his expression softening as he seemed to search for the right words. "I want... I want us to find a way to coexist, to find a small measure of peace in this storm. I want us to try, together, to build something from the ashes of what we were forced to leave behind."

The words hung in the cold air between us, carrying both a challenge and a plea. I could feel my defences wavering, the walls I'd built around myself beginning to crack. I wanted to dismiss him, to cling to my anger as if it were a shield, but a small part of me buried deep beneath the resentment yearned for something more than this constant battle.

He watched me closely, waiting. I turned my gaze away, my heart heavy, unsure what to believe anymore.

"It might please you to know," he began, his voice carefully measured, "that I have made arrangements for Silverwing to be brought here."

I stiffened, my heart stumbling over itself at the unexpected words.

"What?" I asked, unable to hide the astonishment in my voice. I searched his face for any sign of deception but found none, only a quiet, earnest expression.

His smile widened just a fraction, his eyes holding a glimmer of hope. "I have had my men prepare the likes of a dragon pit to house Silverwing. It should be ready soon enough."

Before I could fully process the relief and joy that surged through me, I found myself instinctively pulling him into an embrace. The news of Silverwing's impending arrival filled me with an overwhelming sense of gratitude and happiness. 

The thought of being reunited with my dragon, my closest companion, was a balm to the loneliness that had marked my days.

He chuckled softly, his arms encircling me with a warmth that contrasted sharply with the chill of Winterfell. The sting of regret crept in for the harshness I had shown him mere minutes ago, for pushing him away when he had only tried to reach out.

As I pulled away slightly, I met his gaze with sincere eyes, the fire within me dimming to embers.

"I apologize," I said, my voice laced with earnestness. "I don't mean to suggest that you have been cruel to me. On the contrary, you have shown me a kindness that I didn't expect. Many men would not have endured their wives' coldness and indifference as you have."

His expression softened, and he nodded in understanding. "I meant it when I said that I do not wish this union to be a dreadful one. You are my wife, and I am your husband. Despite our differences, it is important that we strive to understand each other."

I sighed, feeling a sense of contentment wash over me. Perhaps I had been unfair in my judgments. 

Throughout the past month, he had never forced me into anything I wasn't willing to do. His patience and compassion had been genuine, and I began to see the depth of his character beyond the surface of our arranged marriage.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward once more and leaned down, pressing my lips to his in a kiss. It was a kiss of new beginnings, of understanding and tentative acceptance. 

In that moment, it felt as though we were discovering each other anew, exploring the possibilities of what our union could become.

The kiss deepened, each touch and caress reflecting a newfound willingness to bridge the gap between us. As we finally parted, the air between us seemed lighter, filled with the promise of a more hopeful future. 

With a tender smile, I looked into his eyes and took a courageous step. 

"Perhaps," I said softly, "if you are willing, you could stay with me tonight. We could share the same room, just to see what it might feel like."

His eyes warmed with surprise and appreciation. "I'd like that," he replied, his tone sincere. "I'll stay with you."

As we settled into the bed together, the room was bathed in the soft glow of a single candle. The warmth of his presence beside me was a comforting contrast to the coldness that had previously defined our interactions. We lay quietly for a moment, adjusting to the new closeness.

Cregan's voice broke the silence, a thoughtful note in his tone. "Would you like to go hunting with me next week? It might be a chance for us to spend some time together outside of these walls."

The idea of joining him for a hunt was enticing, and I smiled at the thought. "Yes, I would like that very much," I replied, my voice soft with genuine interest.

He smiled back, a sense of relief and anticipation in his eyes. "Then it's settled. We'll go hunting next week."

As we lay next to each other, the shared warmth and the promise of the coming adventure created a sense of closeness that had been missing for so long. 

The night was filled with a quiet intimacy, and as sleep began to claim us, I felt a glimmer of hope for the future we might build together. 

In this cold land of ice and snow, perhaps there was room for warmth, connection, and the kind of companionship that could grow into something truly meaningful.

A/n - Get you a man who builds you a dragon pit cause you miss your little beast