#i'm going to scream and cry and throw up and you all know exactly why

[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

[lowkeyremi]

"DADDY I THREW UP"

How they react when their little ones throw up ! (we all know gojo is gonna be overreacting) ft. gojo, geto, choso, toji, and nanami

content: TW: vomit, no curse!au fluff, established relationship (marriage), children, families. (divider by kim jiho) same kids from jjk men as dads

Gojo Satoru

Satoru's on daddy duty for the next week and a half while you're gone, and so far he's actually doing quite well. Currently, he's making dinner from a simple recipe in the recipe book you've been making throughout the last few years.

Two year old Kenji waddles into the kitchen and tugs on Satoru's sweatpants. His head whips around to look down at his little mini-me.

"Hey Kenji, what's up little guy?" He puts his attention back on the wok with noodles in it to make sure he doesn't burn dinner. As he's stirring the food around with chopsticks Kenji starts to form a sentence, "Um.. throw up."

Satoru freezes. "W-what?" He knows exactly what Kenji said but he's scared to turn around. Kenji whines a little bit, "Throw up. Kenji throw up." Usually Satoru would find his toddler's 3rd person speaking cute but right now he feels himself breaking out into a cold sweat.

"Oh... um.. It's okay? Where is it?" Kenji's little feet waddle away from the kitchen expecting his daddy to follow after him. Satoru turns the heat down to low so the food won't burn, and follows his little boy to the 'crime scene'.

Kenji sticks his thumb in his little mouth and points to the throw up on the carpet.

"O-oh god, I think I'm gonna-" He gags and runs into the bathroom. Nothing comes from his mouth so he shudders. He needs to calm down, it's just a little throw up from his own kin, he'll be alright. The faucet runs and he splashes some water on his face.

"I can do this. I can do this. I can-" He hears the telltale sign of someone throwing up. Kenji is definitely sick. The throw up is followed by loud crying. Satoru's dad instincts kick in and he runs back over to where his little boy is.

"Hey, hey, hey, little guy. It's gonna be okay. Let's get you a bath, then I'll call mommy, okay?" Kenji nods. It breaks Satoru's heart hearing those little sniffles that leave his baby boy.

Geto Suguru

"PAPAAAAA!!!! Hana threw up!!!" Suguru looks at you and you stare right back.

"Don't look at me, I cleaned Hana's vomit yesterday while you were working late." He fights the urge to roll his eyes at you, because you're being childish in his mind.

Suguru makes his way to the kitchen so he can get the carpet cleaning spray out of the cabinet. "Fucking hell." He mumbles without realizing his six year old daughter was near by.

She gasps dramatically before yelling, "OOOOOO PAPA SAID A BAD WORD!!!" He screws his eyes shut, agitation was slowly seeping in.

"I'll put a dollar in the jar, but please stop screaming, Kana. Your sister doesn't feel good and the screaming is hurting Papa's head." He has retrieved the spray and a damp rag to clean up the soiled spot on the carpet.

"Sorry Papa." Kana's voice is lowered drastically. Being a curious little thing she follows her father to go check up on her little twin sister.

"You alright, princess?" Suguru sits close to her little pink bed and poor little Hana shakes her head 'no'.

"I don't feel good, Papa." She whines quietly. Suguru can tell by the way her eyes water, the sweat beads grow on her forehead and the way she frowns deeply that she definitely is sick.

"Why don't you go brush your teeth for me, princess? Then Papa will get you some medicine." Suguru understands his daughter very well. He'd always get sick while eating curses, sometimes they were so bad he would vomit all over the place. LOLLL no curse au so he aint gotta suffer.

She nods hopping from her bed to go brush her teeth in the bathroom. Suguru gets to work cleaning up the carpet.

Kamo Choso

Ryuji's school had called you because your boy threw up in school, which he was very embarrassed about because elementary schoolers always know how to make a big deal out of something small. Many children were crowding your son where he threw up some gasped in horror others laughed. Luckily the teachers were able to get the students under control once more.

They sent him to the nurse and she dialed you, "I'm so sorry, baby. Mom's out of town, give the phone back to the nurse so I can give her dad's number, okay?" He utters a quiet response before handing the phone over.

You chat with the nurse for a little bit giving her the information she needed then you told your son goodbye and hung up.

The nurse is quick to dial Choso and he picks up after the fourth ring. "Good morning, Sir. I'm calling because your son Ryuji Kamo threw up and he isn't feeling too good. We called Mom but she said she won't be able to come pick him up. Do you think you could check him out or do you have another trusted family member who could pick him up?" She's got a pen and notepad ready to write down another number if Choso couldn't make it.

"Oh dear, yeah I'll be there in about twenty minutes. Is his stuff packed already or..." He trails phone pressed to his ear, he hadn't been doing anything too important since he'd already finished up his meeting.

"No Sir, we'll send him right up to pack up. He'll be waiting for you in the main office."

"Alright, thank you." Choso's starting to worry, does he need to take Ryuji to the doctor? Should he stop at the grocery store and get soup? Should he make soup? Do you have kids cold/flu medicine at home? Your husband can't remember the last time Ryuji had vomited and he's pretty sure you'd taken care of it anyway.

"Hey Siri, how do I take care of my sick son?" She responds with 'here's what I found' he quickly scans over an article and the main idea is comfort him, make him something light, make sure he's hydrated, and gets plenty of rest. He could do that. Choso's not the best at emotions but he'll do what he can for his boy.

Eventually the two make it home, and Choso is quick to act. "Change into your pjs and I'll get you some medicine. How do you feel?" He needs a basic idea of what he's dealing with.

"My stomach reallyyyyyyy hurts." He whines holding his abdomen area tightly.

"Like you need to go to the bathroom kind of hurt?" Choso thinks it might be a stomach bug because his so shakes his head 'no'.

"Nuh uh, feels like someone is stabbing me in the stomach." His brows knit and a frown covers his face. it hurts to see his son suffering.

"Alright, I've got you kiddo. I'll take care of you." He promises to his growing boy.

"Thanks dad."

Fushiguro Toji

"Dad come look! I threw up! It's so cool!" Four year old Yui says, which is odd, no normal little kid is happy after throwing up so Toji is suspicious.

"Tell your brother to clean it up." Yui crosses her little arms and pouts.

"I already told Megumi and Nami!! They told me to go tell you!!!" He doesn't want to clean it up. He already has his work cutting out for him changing his newborn's diapers, cleaning up vomit was not on his list of to dos.

He would have told her to go ask you to clean it up but it's sunday and you usually go out for brunch with your friends. So, unless he somehow coaxed his stubborn son, Megumi, he'd have to do it himself.

When he finally reaches the bathroom, he groans in annoyance at how she just barely missed the toilet had she run a little faster she would have made it. To make matters worse it looks like she tried to clean it up herself and just spread it all everywhere.

"Oh, Sprinkles threw up too! Cuz he ate some of mine."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" A deep unsettling groan rips from his throat. Yui finds the whole ordeal funny, she's giggling and cooing at her father.

Bonus: A few days later you're walking past Yui's room and you hear her yell, "Are you fucking kidding me?!"

You instantly stop, "Excuse you little girl, who did you hear say that?"

"Dad said it when he had to clean up my throw up!!" She smiles brightly at you. She's so innocent she doesn't fully understand the weight of what she's said.

"That's a bad word sweet girl. Don't say that anymore, got it?"

You're given a little nod to indicate she understands.

"TOJI WHERE ARE YOU?!" He's about to get an earful from you.

Nanami Kento:

"Hey guys, I came as soon as I could." You exhale deeply as you set your keys on the rack and slip off your shoes. Kento had picked up your son because the school called saying he'd thrown up.

Kento appears from the hallway with a finger on his lip telling you to "shh".

You lower your voice to a whisper, "Is Hiro alright?" Kento walks up to you and gives you a comforting hug which you really needed.

"Yeah he's resting right now. He threw up in the car. Twice. I was going to go clean it up right now. Emmie should be waking up from her nap soon, though." You're so grateful to have a husband you can rely on in a time of need.

When Hiro's school had called you, you were in the middle of a very important meeting so you couldn't leave. Nanami had left work early to go pick up your son.

His smile is so intoxicating. You pull him by his collar and make his lips meet yours. He immediately reciprocates by bringing his hands up to cup your cheeks and kiss you back.

"Thank you, baby." His eyes are so beautiful and if you didn't have to go make sure to be there for your baby girl you would have continued to stare at them.

"Of course my love. Parenting is a two person thing for a reason."

"I bet by next week we'll be sick too." You say chuckling dryly.

"Most likely, yeah." He says shaking his head. He begrudgingly walks out to his car to clean up the vomit in the backseat.

[adhdduckie]

second choice - teen!gojo x reader

synopsis : you've loved him since the beginning, so you want to be there for him. in an attempt to speak to gojo after getou has abandoned you all, you tell him that you know you're not the first choice for him to speak to, but he wants you to know you're the first choice for everything else.

pairing; gojo x reader

wc: 2.2k

A/N: this has been in my drafts for like a year, jesus. hope yall enjoy.

main masterlist

jjk masterlist

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gojo has been different since the death of riko amanai. taking on more and more missions, spending less time with the rest of you. he's no longer the same gojo you fell in love with when you first met him, but you still do love him, he's just going through a rough patch.

ever since he finally understood his technique, the higher ups have been forcing him to go on more trips. you saw him every couple of months, but it wasn't the same as seeing him every single day. the messages you sent him being left on delivered, as if he didn't even want to read the messages you sent him.

when getou and gojo were protecting amanai as their mission, you and shoko had been doing your own thing. When geto came back with the absence of gojo, you freaked out. screamed, cried and basically just swore revenge on toji. you hated toji for taking gojo away from you.

when gojo came back covered in blood, and with a slightly feral look in his eyes, you jumped into his arms, throwing your arms around his neck and sobbing into his shoulder. He kind of just awkwardly patted your back with his hands, and gave you a sly smile, before speaking.

"what you crying for? i'm not dead, am I?" he said, before letting you go. the smile didn't really reach his eyes fully, and maybe that was the first time you noticed something was truly different.

"you fucking idiot." you responded with a laugh, wiping your tears away from your eyes, feeling slightly stupid about how emotional you were.

a year later after amanai's death, after geto left, things were even worse. you remember how gojo started screaming at yagi. you stood behind in the classroom, having just finished talking with the teacher, as you heard gojo's yells.

it had been a shock to you, too, to hear of getou's sins. geto used to be so kind, so nice to you. he helped you with things in class you didn't understand, bought you cold drinks from the vending machines as you sparred with shoko.

you should have seen it coming, you told yourself. how did you not notice his spiralling? How could you not be there for him? alas, it was far too late to even do anything now, especially after gojo confronted him in front of the kfc, strangely you had been sitting in the kfc, eating your lunch.

the lady beside you didn’t understand why you randomly started sobbing in the middle of your food, but you knew you couldn’t intervene, as this is something that was happening between the two of them, because you knew their connection would always be so much stronger than yours.

it was not exactly something you wanted to watch, although you hadn't known everything they were saying, you had a feeling of what was going on, and you didn't want to interrupt.

after the kfc confrontation, gojo was worse. taking on more and more missions, refusing to talk to you when you tried to see how he was doing. it was sad, especially because he had been such a close friend, and now he was just pushing you away.

it hurt much more due to the fact you cared for him beyond a normal friend should, but there really was nothing you could do. you sought him out when you knew he was back from missions, knocking at his door at various times in the night, praying to some god, some entity, really anything that would get him to open the door.

but your knocks always went unanswered. always. you thought maybe you were close enough that he’d trust you enough to talk with you, but apparently not.

the loss of haibara had taken a toll on you, seeing how he was basically a little brother to you, and you felt like maybe you could relate to gojo, and see how the both of you may have something in common to talk about, to make sure that you both had someone to support, and that spiralling didn’t happen again.

shoko was alright, for the most part. you had made sure to support her as much as you could, and she did what she could in return, but she had never been so close with getou and haibara as much as you did, as when she discovered her reverse cursed technique, she spent most of her time in the morgue, and it was the three of you on missions in the end.

and maybe you were starting to spiral yourself. life as a jujutsu sorcerer had really begun to take its toll on you, and you were beginning to understand just how much nanami had hated the life of a jujutsu sorcerer, and how he talked about how he wanted to go off as a salesman, quoting that “jujutsu is shit!”

despite having support around you, you really felt like you were missing something, and the only way you could ever really support yourself was getting some quiet time. the loss of haibara and getou was a strong one, and because other students understood this, they tried to make you feel as best as you could, even if you wanted alone time sometimes, which led to you feeling overwhelmed a lot of the time.

and because shoko would barge into your room whenever she could, you had taken to the rooftops as a way to escape questioning and the constant coddling of everyone else. it was quiet up there, and you liked the escape.

one specific night, you had been sitting up there for multiple hours, just staring off into the distance.

at some point, it had started to rain, but that had only really registered briefly in your head. the rain was light, so it wasn’t much of a problem.

you’d been sitting there for the best of three hours, just watching the clouds pass you by.

at some point you feel a small shift in the atmosphere, and you freeze.

“what are you doing out of your room, satoru?” you ask him, not bothering to turn around.

you hear the clacking of the tiles on the roof as he walks closer towards you.

there’s suddenly a light pressure on your shoulders as a blanket is dropped around your shoulders.

“they thought you left, you know?” satoru responds quietly.

“what?” you ask him, finally turning around to face him as he drops next to you.

“shoko was freaked, because she hasn’t been able to find you for hours.” satoru tells you, shifting closer to you on the edge of the roof.

“…and what got you out of your room?” you ask him, frowning as you stare back out into your surroundings.

“she freaked out, went crazy on me. she was telling me about how unfair I had been, and how selfish i was for forgetting that getou wasn’t just my friend.” he sighs, drawing his legs to his chest, resting his chin on his arms.

“…she’s not wrong.” You respond. you’re feeling a bit numb, and you’re upset that it’s taken him this long to talk to you again, so you’re being mean.

“yeah. I’m sorry, i really am. I got so caught up in myself after riko and getou, and i forgot that you guys were also affected by everything. and you especially, i knew haibara meant a lot to you.” he tries to explain.

“well, satoru, we all needed someone. i did my best with shoko, and nanami. i couldn’t do it all myself, you know? i felt as if i was the only one that was still trying to make sure that everyone was okay, because you disappeared on all of us.”

“and i’m going insane, too. i hate the life of a jujutsu sorcerer, but it’s the one thing i’m good at, and the one thing that i can do. even if shoko is doing her best to support us all as well, it’s not the same, especially because i felt that you and i could relate the most, and be there for each other. and i understand if you needed time to yourself, but you just shut us all out. all of us.” you finish, feeling tears prick at your eyes.

you can’t make any eye contact with satoru. it’s been months since you last properly saw him, and you don’t want to see him when you’re crying like this, so you’re avoiding his eye contact as much as you can.

you take a deep breath, and you continue; “and then, i thought i lost you too. not only did someone i love die, my best friend’s gone, and the other one shut us all out. “

“and then, the one person i feel like i could talk to because we both lost so much, just completely shuts me out.” You’re full on crying now, not even trying to hide it.

satoru wordlessly pulls you closer, understanding that you need to vent out all of your frustrations, because for so long, you’ve been unable to do so.

and it’s so much coming out at once, that you’re just crying at this point.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry. i should have been there for you.” he whispers, pulling you so you’re crying into his chest.

your fingers are all bunched into his shirt, and you’re crying, so so hard. this is the hardest you’ve cried since everything’s happened, and it just seems that you just couldn’t hold it in anymore.

and you’re sobbing uncontrollably, hiccuping as you cry. he’s rubbing comforting circles into your back, and you notice that his infinity is off for the first time in a long time, so you have to pause and you have to draw back.

when you do, your hands are resting on his shoulders, and you could swear that you don’t look pretty right now, but it’s too late.

his hand goes to cup your jaw, and he tries to smile tentatively at you. his smile is a bit shaky, and his eyes are brimmed red.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry.” he repeats, using his thumb to brush against your jaw, resting his forehead against yours.

“i know you needed time, and i understand that, but i was really worried. but please, please please, from now on, check in with me every once in a while, okay? I know i’m not your first choice-” you get cut off by satoru, when he interrupts.

“what, what do you mean you’re not my first choice?” he asks, his thumb pausing its motions.

“just that, i know you would have preferred to talk to someone else.” you tell him, a little embarrassed that you have to say it out loud, because no matter how much you thought of him as a close friend, you still wanted him more than that, but it was never the time to tell him.

“you are, though. you know these last few months have been so hard for me?” he asks, “i kept thinking about how much i missed you and how much i wanted you to be there with me, but i couldn’t go find you, i just couldn’t.” he interrupts you, staring at you intently as he tries to explain his feelings.

“why couldn’t you?” you ask him, trying to fight back a shiver when he pulls back, as the loss of warmth registers. you can feel the hesitation in his voice before he speaks, you’re so fine tuned into everything that is gojo satoru.

“because, i thought you blamed me for getou leaving.” he whispers out, so broken hearted.

you scoff, feeling tears run down your cheeks due to such an emotionally charged conversation. ”of course, i don’t. none of us do. getou leaving was a result of the jujutsu world, from everything that has happened to us, from riko amanai’s death, the unjustness of the world, and the non-human sorcerers.” you respond, grasping his hand in your lap, trying to get him to understand just what you mean.

your eyes track the water that falls down his face from the rain, and it just registers to you again that you’re both probably going to get sick.

he leans forward into your touch, resting his forehead against yours again, as he feels everything seem to just dissipate from him, all the pressure he’s been for so long.

and because he’s here with you now, he finally understands.

he understands everything everyone means when they say that once they’re reunited with their loved ones, all their pain and suffering doesn’t just disappear, it just feels lighter, and easier to carry, because they’ve got the support of those around them.

“you are my first choice.” he whispers out as some kind of confession.

and despite yourself, you are able to let out a wet laugh, your eyes closing as you just rest your forehead against his, feeling him squeeze your hand in his. because this feels right. it finally feels right.

the silence passes comfortably, and soon, you realise you’re not even getting wet anymore. you realise he’s sharing his infinity with you, and this helps you finally understand what he means that how you are his first choice. it seems, you are his first choice, for everything.

“i love you.” he whispers, opening his eyes briefly to stare into yours, as he lifts his forehead from yours to press a light kiss to your forehead. you don’t respond, because you know he understands that you do love him too, when you pull him closer to hug him.

because, the pain and suffering is easier to bear, together.

[bvidzsoo]

Love Me Like A Rockstar (13)

ー☆ Chapter 13: You Know Me Too Well

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

ー☆ Warning: cursing, usage of the word 'bitch' ー☆ Word count: 6.5k ー☆ Genre: university!au, enemies to lovers!au, rockstar!au ー☆ Rating: sfw ー☆ Summary: Love. You wanted none of it. You had already been heartbroken very badly once, you didn't wish to go through that ever again. But the Universe works in intricate ways and, somehow, you found yourself webbed up in a local rockstar's life, Song Mingi. He was everything you expected him to be, yet nothing like you imagined him he would be. What happens when you find mutual understanding and have heartful conversations? Will he be able to break down your walls? Will you be able to chase away his darkness?

A/N: Well, well, lovelies...new chapter is up and maybe I'm kind of kicking my feet??? Who knows, we'll see what y'all think of this chapter hehe. Also, happy birthday to Song Mingi?! I actually didn't mean to post the new chapter today, but today was the only day I had enough time to write it sooo, yeah. Tmi, but MC's mother is exactly like my mom, so maybe I drew inspiration from real life lol, I love her to death but sometimes I really wish SHE DIDNT SPEAK lol. Also, I'm so obsessed with today's song for the chapter; I'm screaming, crying, throwing up over it LOL. Just a heads up, next chapter is the last like actual chapter of the series and then I decided to add an epilogue lol cue the sobbing. As per usual, listen to You Know Me Too Well before or while reading the chapter! I hope you enjoy and let me know through feedback hehe <3 Enjoy your weekends! divider

Taglist: @orshii @or5i @lovely-red2 @scarfac3 @juicy-red

@sunaswifes-blog @voicesinmyhead-rc @teez-the-time @maru-matt @kyeos4ng

@deathbyyeekies @chicksmoothie @mjlbn01 @xhexy @tmtxtf

@hwashiningstar @thatfavouritesong @ateez-atiny380 @xciiiomwliah @vixensss

@catchingskzzzs @tesssaurrr @ginger-mingi @mingisbbg

⟨Series M.list ↭ Previous Chapter⟩

♫Playlist♫

            Saturday (2:55 pm)

Me: mingi can we talk?

Saturday (8:30 pm)

Me: i am free whenever you say so just let me know and i’ll be there

            Sunday (9:15 am)

Me: we need to talk, mingi.

            Sunday (12:08 am)

Me: please hear me out im sorry

Monday (current time)

            “Do you think he’ll slam the door in my face?” The hallways were buzzing with life as I tried to veer my way around the crowd of students without running into anyone. Today, out of all days, I just so happened to have my last class of the day in a completely different building and at least a good five-minute walk away from the arts building.

“It’s what you’d deserve, to be fair, but—” The was a gasp on the other side of the phone and my eyebrows furrowed as Seulgi muttered something to someone, muffled, “sorry, Wooyoung almost dropped my mother’s favorite vase, I told him to take off that blindfold.”

Eyebrows furrowing even deeper, I abruptly stopped walking, making a girl give me a heated glare that I didn’t care for, “Why is he blindfolded? Wait! I actually don’t want to know.”

“We were playing hide and seek with his niece, you idiot, but I got bored and sneaked away when I saw you calling.” Seulgi’s voice was exasperated and I chuckled as I took off again, leaving the science major’s building as I nuzzled further into my thick scarf. Some days it was warmer, but most days it got really cold and I hated it. I couldn’t deal with the freezing weather, perhaps it was my biggest enemy after Jeong Yunho, “Anyways, as I was saying, you deserve to be ignored by Mingi, but knowing how big of a sucker he is for you, he’ll probably give in before you can utter a single word.”

My heart jumped at the thought as I gnawed on my bottom lip, cutting off the path as I hurried through the grass, uncaring that I was probably destroying the work of the gardener. Besides, the grass had barely just started growing out again, it would be fine, “You think so?”

“I know so.” I heard Wooyoung’s high-pitched voice shouting from the distance and my eyebrows furrowed as I realized Seulgi had probably put me on speaker. Now that was a bit awkward, “He’s an idiot, but he’s in love. Now that I come to think of it, you two are a lot alike, two idiots in love—”

“I believe your niece is looking for you, babe.” Seulgi cut her boyfriend off and I was thankful because I don’t think I could’ve handled hearing him say the words ‘in love’ again. That was scary, even just the thought of it. I was barely coming to terms with liking Mingi, but hearing the word love sort of made me want to turn back around and abandon my whole plan of trying to make peace between the two of us. And Seulgi knew this, thankfully, because she didn’t say anything about it again, “Are you on your way to his studio right now?”

I hummed and curled my fingers tighter around the thermos bottle, my nose cold from the weather as the arts building finally came into sight, “Yeah, three minutes and I’m there.”

“Good.” Seulgi sounded content and I sighed as I tried to ignore the dawning anxiety that tried to crawl through my body and make me abandon my well-thought-out plan. I had to do this. Seulgi and my mom were right, I couldn’t mess this up again. I liked Mingi, a lot. He is a good guy and I shouldn’t let my past and my fears dictate my life. Yes, Mingi is Yunho’s best friend, but Mingi isn’t like Yunho. Hopefully, “Update me later then, I love you Y/N, I hope you know that.”

I chuckled and nodded at the security guard as he was out of his cubicle, standing at the bottom of the steps, smoking his cigar, “I know, thank you for knocking some sense into me.”

“We’ll see about that later.” Her snort was amused and I shook my head as we said our goodbyes, the warmth of the building making me sigh out in relief as I entered through the front doors. I pocketed my phone and unwrapped my scarf from around my neck, greeting the familiar people I crossed paths with. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t feeling nervous at all, after all, I didn’t know how Mingi would react. If he was anything like me, he wouldn’t forgive me so easily. Not when I’ve hurt him again and in the worst way possible.

As I ascended the marble stairs, I found stability in the thermos bottle clutched firmly in both of my hands now, its weight helping me to keep my determination and focus on going through with my own plan. When I woke this morning and went to take a quick shower, I was surprised to hear my mother’s singing and smell the delicious waft of pancakes, making my stomach growl loudly as I didn’t have dinner the night before. It seemed like my mother had taken a day off, grumbling something about her deserving a day to rest after she was almost choked out by one of her mentally ill patients. I couldn’t help but agree with her as we sat at the table in silence, enjoying our breakfast, that is until she cleared her throat loudly and stood up, fetching a mug and a cup from the counter next to the sink. I froze when I realized she was handing me the cup Mingi had designed with funny looking chicks on it, and I was even more confused when I realized it wasn’t coffee I was drinking, but hot chocolate.

“So, what are you going to do about that handsome fella?” I tried not to groan or regret the fact that I told her everything about Mingi. I took a tentative sip of the hot chocolate and realized it wasn’t hot before taking a bigger gulp as I enjoyed its sweet taste.

“I’ll talk to him today—”

“Great!” My mother didn’t even let me finish as she sprung up from her seat again to fetch something from a cupboard, “It’s amazing how strong our maternal intuition is, I swear my starlight, you should make some babies soon.”

“Mom.” I groaned as I watched her curiously as she took a blue thermos bottle from the cupboard and filled it with hot chocolate from the kettle, “We’ve had this discussion many times before, I’m not having children so young.”

“You’re not that young though.” She sent me a sheepish smile as my eyes widened, feigning hurt.

“I’m turning twenty-three?! How is that not young?” She cleared her throat as she sealed the thermos and walked back to the table to sit down.

“I’m just trying to inspire you, anyways,” She huffed and then placed the thermos on the table and pushed it towards me, “Bring this to him as peace offering, he’ll love it. Trust me.”

“I don’t think what Mingi needs right now is hot chocolate—”

“Finish your breakfast and shut up.” My mother didn’t let me finish as she cut off a thick part of the pancake with her fork and forced it inside my mouth, making me groan, “Mothers know best when it comes to stuff like this, be thankful I’m saving your relationship and be back before lunch. I’m ordering take out, and I certainly am not waiting for late your ass if I’m hungry.”

I knew fighting my mom was fruitless, so I just grumbled an okay as I tried to chew the pancake she had forced in my mouth, my cheeks all puffed out. My mother seemed content that I finally wasn’t talking back to her and I shook my head as I pulled the thermos bottle towards me, reminded of the time when Mingi had brought me tea knowing that I would be feeling probably a little sick after getting all soaked in the cold rain and harsh wind.

So, now, with Mingi’s clothes in my tote bag and the thermos filled with hot chocolate in my hands, I couldn’t help but feel optimistic despite the anxiety gripping at my thoughts. If my mother, Seulgi, and even Wooyoung—who knew Mingi like the back of his hand—were convinced that everything would work out just fine, then why would I not believe that? Sure, Mingi was probably still annoyed at me, but I didn’t think a few apologies and even more explanations couldn’t fix the issue at hand. All I had to do was be honest and come clean with my feelings and he’d probably do the same and then—that’s where anxiety stepped in. Then what? Was I ready to pursue a relationship? Did Mingi want to date me? Did I want to date him? Why did it have to be Jeong Yunho’s best friend I was into? Why could I not move past my fears and stop associating Mingi with everything I was wounded by, when he never once made me feel like Yunho did? I could dwell on these thoughts for an eternity, I fear, but I didn’t have that time right now. And to be fair, I didn’t want to think of such things right now because I could feel my determination wither the closer I got to the music majors’ floor, heartbeat loud in my ears.

I stopped at the end of the hallway and took a deep breath, eyes settling on the studio I knew now was used by Mingi only. Wooyoung was nice enough to tell me the number of his studio—not that I had forgotten since the last time I was here—and he also let me know that it was used by Mingi only, the teachers having granted him full access, even at hours when students were supposed to be at home. It seems so Mingi was a favorite amongst the teachers, and I could see why. He was diligent and hard-working; his lyrics were beautiful and nothing would stop him from fulfilling his dream of becoming a well-known rockstar. I couldn’t help but feel excited at the prospect of that, and hoped that I would be part of his journey, that he’d let me back into his life.

Steeling my nerves and trying to see the light at the end of the tunnel, I knew there was no turning back. I wanted to do this, I had to do this. I had to stop sabotaging myself, and so, I marched down the hallway towards Mingi’s studio with a newfound hope and determination. Which lasted about five seconds as I came face to face with Mingi’s studio door. There was a small window on it, which would let you know whether the room was occupied or not, and it was straight across the desk where he was sat at—with the blonde girl standing right next to him. And that should have been okay, because really, Mingi could talk to whoever and spend his time also with whoever he pleased. And it’s not like I didn’t have male friends—I didn’t, Seulgi was my only friend—it’s not like he couldn’t speak to one of his fans. After all, he’s made it clear she was nothing more than a fan he appreciated for helping spread the word about his band.

But then, why was her hand on his shoulder one second and the next second slowly trailing down the sleeve of his beige cardigan—which looked like it was messily stained with paint—and certainly the way my good disposal dissipated and was overtaken by blind jealousy and rage had nothing to do with the sudden possessiveness that shook me to my core. And perhaps the thing that bothered me the most wasn’t even her feeling up Mingi’s arm as she looked down at him with sultry eyes, perhaps it was the way Mingi leaned back in his chairs, legs spread wide, and smirk on his lips as he looked up at her with his sharp gaze, allowing her to touch him. Perhaps that’s what sent me over the edge as I barged inside the studio in the most unceremonious way, making the girl yelp in fright and Mingi flinch as his eyes widened.

『Baby, you're all that I want

I want you all to myself

Oh, but you know me too well』

And when I was angry—or panicking, or hurt—all rational thoughts flew out the window as I was led by nothing else but pure instinct and a shit ton of unclear and not so necessarily nice thoughts. Simpler put, I wasn’t thinking nor making sense, but I couldn’t care less as I glared at the both of them while I struggled to mask the fury licking at my veins. They were both looking at me wide eyed, as if I had caught them doing something I wasn’t supposed to, and that made me snap before I could think through how to proceed with this whole shitshow, “Get out.”

For a second, even I didn’t recognize my voice as it dropped a few octaves, fierce gaze set on the blonde girl as she paled, eyes scrambling between Mingi and me as, suddenly, Mingi seemed to snap out of whatever scare I had given him by slamming his door open and into the wall. God, I hope I haven’t actually damaged it, because I certainly didn’t have the money to pay for it right now. I couldn’t look at the blonde girl anymore, heart beating fast in my chest as Mingi and I made eye contact, his eyebrows set in a deep frown as he had a sneer on his face.

“Excuse me?” God, even her voice was annoying. I looked back at the blonde girl and raised my eyebrows at her mockingly.

“Are you deaf?” I chuckled, but it was humorless, “Do I need to repeat myself?”

She huffed, looking offended—rightfully so—and I gritted my teeth as I stepped inside the studio, making it pretty obvious that I wasn’t going anywhere before this bitch left. I tried not to see red as Mingi’s hands balled up into fists or the way the girl snickered, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“You’re the one that’s barged inside uninvited, sweetheart,” And if I could have, I would have ripped her blonde strands out, “this isn’t your fucking studio, so, shut up. Mingi wants me here, maybe you should leave.”

I bit my bottom lip to stop myself from laughing, somewhere deep in my mind realizing I looked absolutely psychotic and if Mingi didn’t hate me before, he certainly would hate me now. I wasn’t helping myself; I was making everything worse—just the usual, then. But this bitch wasn’t stopping me from getting what I came here for, and I hummed as my eyes fell on Mingi again, who’s jaw was clenching and unclenching. His sharp eyes were narrowed, but it seemed like he wasn’t saying anything anytime soon and that only pissed me off more.

“Sure,” I nodded and walked further inside, forcefully throwing my tote bag on the small couch against the wall on my left, making the contents of it spill out. I watched as both Mingi and the girl looked at the clothes, and Mingi’s expression flashed with something unreadable for a second, “Mingi wants you here.”

I suppose neither expected me not to stop until I reached the desk, coming up on Mingi’s left side as I slammed the thermos bottle—albeit too harshly—against the desk, a loud bang echoing in the room. Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed as I opened my mouth to tell the girl to leave again, but suddenly, he was up on his feet, staring me down. The height difference wasn’t that great between the two of us, but suddenly I felt small under his heated glare and sneer that seemed to settle on his lips, broad shoulders intimidating as he lowered his head just a little bit. He looked nothing like the Mingi I had gotten to know over the past few months, and it made my heart race as I realized I might not be able to reason with him today, “What the fuck is your problem, Y/N?! You tell her to get out when you barge in unwelcomed, and then start demanding for her to leave—”

I couldn’t even let him finish his sentence before I was firing back my argument, “Oh, what’s my fucking problem?! Maybe the fact that you lied to me?”

“About what?!” Mingi snapped, eyebrows furrowed as he took a step towards me, his body big enough to make the blonde girl not be seen behind him.

“Oh, be for real.” I scoffed and rolled my eyes, “You never show anyone your songs to? But you so conveniently let me listen to that unfinished song of yours and now look who else gets to listen to it? Her. If you’re so desperate to get laid, you should have—”

“I didn’t show her shit.” Mingi cut me off, voice shaking as his cheeks grew red from anger, probably. Mingi wasn’t a scary person, but he looked scary right now. There was no ounce of kindness in his expression nor tone, he looked cold and angry and like he hated me. I gulped and realized, once again, that I was digging myself deeper into the shithole I had created for myself, that I was hurting him again and again. This is not how things were supposed to go, “I only showed you. That unfinished song you’re talking about, only you know about it. Thanks for reminding me again why I shouldn’t deal with you anymore—”

“Stop it.” I snapped, eyebrows furrowing as I felt fear grip at my throat, making my voice sound shaky as Mingi’s expression went blank. I hated when he did that. I wanted to know what he was thinking about, I needed to see what he felt. I couldn’t do this if he withdrew himself, I couldn’t do this if I was the only one that would bare her heart to him. I was scared. He was pushing me away like Yunho had done, Mingi was abandoning me.

“Stop it?” If I wanted to cry when he laughed in my face mockingly, impassive smirk settling on his lips, I didn’t let it happen. I kept my composure, anger, hurt, desperation, yearning all mixing together as I found it harder and harder to breathe, “You want me to be nice to you after all the shit you said to me on Saturday? You want me to treat you like before after everything that’s happened? I can’t. You hurt me, made me feel like a fucking idiot, Y/N, you broke—I thought we were friends. I feel disrespected and played, and yet here you are again, acting like you have even an ounce of right to act the way you are right now, when it’s you who made it so fucking clear you want nothing to do with me anymore. Do you enjoy making others suffer? Do you want to see me on my fucking knees begging for your attention? I have enough self-respect to step back and move on with my life when someone so blatantly tells it to my face that I am nothing—”

“But you aren’t!” My tone raised without me meaning to as my heart continued to beat out of my chest so fast my ears started ringing. I felt tears prick at my eyes, but I didn’t want to cry. I didn’t want to victimize myself, I just wanted Mingi to understand I made a mistake, that I knew I did, and that I was trying to fix things. I didn’t want us to part ways, especially not like this, he made me realize this second that I didn’t want to lose him, “You aren’t nothing to me. I said those things because I’m scared. I don’t know how to navigate these feelings—”

“Save it, okay?” I was left gaping as Mingi shook his head, pushing his hands in the pockets of his light denim jeans, “I don’t want to hear whatever sob shit you have to say right now, I’m asking you kindly to leave before I call security and delete my number, like I have deleted yours.”

The silence that settled upon us was deafening and my eyebrows furrowed as a tear rolled down my cheek without warning, my chest rising and falling rapidly as I tried to find my breath. That hurt, it hurt more than anything before, it hurt more than when Yunho left me, broke my heart. Mingi meant so much more to me than Yunho ever did, and I bit my lower lip as Mingi seemed unaffected, expression blank and rather bored. Nothing was making sense anymore. I was scared, but I also felt ready to break free of the chains of the past, I wanted Mingi. And knowing all this, I didn’t want to hold back anymore, I didn’t want to consider my next words anymore. I just wanted to speak my mind freely.

“My ex-boyfriend is Jeong Yunho, your best friend.” Mingi had almost turned away from me, but he froze, head slowly turning back to face me once again, “We dated back in high school, many years ago, when we were still some headless and stupid teenagers. But he was the first boy I’ve ever loved and he fucking broke my heart, shattered into pieces with a bright smile on his lips. He promised me many things, and I was naïve, so I believed it all. And because I did, I ended up hurt beyond fixing and I’ve never trusted a man again. He was my first boyfriend and the center of my universe, yet he never cared enough about me to properly break up with me.

“Yunho talked about you all the time. Everything you liked, everything you hated, you were part of our daily conversations and I always wished to meet you, to see what was so great in you that had Yunho gushing all the time. I was jealous, so jealous that I became bitter. I started hating even the mention of your name, I selfishly wanted Yunho to myself, and you gone from his life. I couldn’t understand what was so great about you and why I wasn’t enough. I knew Yunho didn’t love me, but I wanted him to, so I made myself believe it, believe that I was worth more to him than you’ll ever be. And in the process, I stupidly made myself believe that he’d never leave me, that he was the one for me like he has said so many times before.

“He broke my heart so fucking bad that it took years until I could say his name or even see his face again. I am over him now, have been for a long time, but I can’t help still feel bitter about him. I can’t help but associate you with him at times. He made me defensive and untrusting of men, I couldn’t help but assume you’d be just like Yunho when I first met you, at least when I finally realized who you were. I felt so guilty, I tried to push you away but you wouldn’t fucking give up. You are everything yet nothing like Yunho and that scares me, because I want you, Mingi. But I’m scared you’ll abandon me like Yunho did, that you’ll fill my head with empty and pretty fantasies and then leave me alone with them, tearing my heart apart in the process. I want to open up, but I’m scared. I think, however, with you by my side, I’d be able to do that, to let my walls down.”

The silence that settled upon us, once again, was deafening and I gulped, heart racing and making me feel lightheaded as Mingi’s face had fallen, expression finally not as void as before. He looked shocked, but surprisingly, he didn’t look hurt nor like he would hate me for ever. It made me hopeful for a second, it made me sniff loudly and blink away the insisting tears from my eyes. He gulped and took a deep breath, making me stare in his eyes, hopeful and less scared, as he sighed and rubbed at his chin; a stubble was showing. Now that I come to think of it, he looks rather tired with bags under his eyes, and his platinum hair has a blue hue to it.

“I’m sorry he made you go through so much; I know it wasn’t easy.” Mingi’s tone finally lost the edge it had before, finally it wasn’t laced with so much anger, and it almost made me cry, “I kind of—I knew. Not exactly the whole thing, but I suppose I can say I had a feeling that there was history between you and Yunho. It was too obvious whenever I brought him up that you didn’t like him, at first I was confused, but then I suppose everything just clicked into place. The drawing of his eyes, the sweater you lent me and the fact that you gave it to me in the end—I’ve known since then that it was probably Yunho. I never said anything to him, not like that at least, I wanted you to come to me on your own, when you fully trusted me with the information. And I’m sorry, but he—he was an asshole back in high school, he was insecure and he played with everyone’s feelings, he was quite good at manipulating people around him. He’s mentioned dating you, but very few times, and by the time you had broken up I had all but forgotten about you, I suppose I wasn’t much better compared to him.

“But all of this isn’t my fault in the end, and while I completely understand your reasoning now and why you often acted the way you did, I’m sorry, but I can’t just let go of things and start anew. There’s just—too many things that have happened, emotions that you stirred up in me, and I just can’t do it, I—it’s not even about you and Yunho, I don’t give a fuck about it, it was ages ago and Yunho is a changed man and I know he’s long moved on. And you too, I believe you have, you seemed less bitter lately, but I just can’t. I can’t help but ask again, what do you want, YN?”

At least he wasn’t mad at me, but I did feel ashamed that I made him piece everything together on his own, that I wasn’t capable of telling him the truth myself. I have made mistakes, sure, but Mingi apparently didn’t hate me for them, “I just want to apologize, for everything.”

Mingi nodded and I watched in despair as that cold mask slipped back onto his face, expression void of any emotion once again. It made me want to grab his shoulders and shake them, force him to look deep into my eyes and just see everything I felt for him, “That’s fine, I accept your apology. If that’s all, you can leave—”

“But that’s not all!” I snapped, having had enough of being dismissed by him. I saw the way his jaw twitched, the way his eyebrows furrowed at my defiance, at my reluctance to leave just yet. I was being pathetic and a pain in the ass, but I had to make him understand that I was ready to leave all my fears behind for him, to learn how to be a better person next to him. I wanted to change, and I wanted it to happen with him by my side, with him guiding me and teaching me how to be more like him, and less like the shitty person I was for so long. I longed to be the way I was before meeting Yunho, a lot happier and a lot less broody and hateful of the beautiful things that surrounded me, “Mingi, I cannot stop thinking about you. I spend every waking moment when we’re apart wondering what you’re up to, what’s going through your mind, whether you’re okay or not. And I’ve been drawing you, since the first time I saw you, you’ve captured my attention, you’ve made me curious of who you were the longer we spent time together. I don’t want to be like this anymore, I don’t want to hurt you anymore and shut you out, I want to fix everything. I want to—I just want you, Mingi.”

There was a quiet scoff behind Mingi, but neither one of us reacted to it as our gazes bore into each other, my eyes glinting with yearning and his façade slowly breaking down as he released a shaky breath, “Mingi, I adore you.”

“Get out.” For a second, my body froze as I thought he was addressing me, but then, he whirled around and pointed towards the studio’s still open door, “Get out, now.”

And I just realized that the blonde girl had been witness to everything, and I couldn’t help but blanch in embarrassment as she made to interject, but I guess Mingi’s sharp eyes made her reconsider her choice as she huffed and then stormed out of the studio. My cheeks felt hot and I realized the clothes were making me sweaty, so as Mingi hurried towards the door to close it, I shrugged my jacket off and placed it neatly on the back of the sofa together with my thick scarf. And as I looked up, mouth dry as the door clicked shut and Mingi turned around, it felt like time stopped, like the world stopped moving. But Mingi was moving towards me, in nothing more than three steps he stood in front of me, and before I could even as much as try to reason with him or plead more to be forgiven, warm fingers dug into my cheeks and the wind was knocked from my lungs as his plush warm lips slammed against mine, making me gasp as my eyes remained wide open.

『Filthy impetuous soul

I wanna give it to you』

I thought he wouldn’t want anything to do with me, I thought he’d tell me that he needed time to forgive me completely and for us to work things out. But I couldn’t help shudder and feel ecstatic as I grabbed the collar of his shirt and cardigan, my eyes falling shut, as I pulled him closer to my body, savoring the kiss as if it was our first. But it wasn’t anything like that one, it wasn’t soft nor careful nor slow, it was hurried and desperate as Mingi pushed me backward, pressing me against the wall, right between the small space between the sofa and the desk. My arms circled his neck as he grabbed my nape with one big hand and pressed his other into the small of my back, making it arch as my fingers tangled into his soft hair, not pulling, just feeling the need to hold onto something, to keep myself grounded.

And much like the first time, our lips seemed to fit perfectly, and I tried not to keen when he sucked my bottom lip between his teeth, nibbling on the soft flesh, and I tried not to turn into a puddle when he hummed lowly against my lips as my fingers flexed in his hair. Perhaps I kissed him a bit harder and more aggressively as our pace quickened, my hand holding the side of his neck as Mingi pressed his body into mine until it felt like he was trying to forbid me even of the idea of escaping from his clutches, and I had no fucking intention of going anywhere, because in his arms I felt content and safe, and perhaps a bit too hot as goosebumps covered my arms the longer our lips moved hungrily against each other. And when I cupped his cheeks and perhaps held onto them a bit too firmly, his lips parted, and I ignored my lungs screaming for air as my tongue slipped past his parted mouth. I didn’t expect him to moan as our tongues tangled together, all wet and perhaps a little disgusting, but neither one of us cared about that.

I tried to stand on my tip toes for better access as Mingi’s ring clad fingers were suddenly running through my hair and tilting my head back, making my skin tingle where he held my hip firmly. I had been kissed by other people before, but neither felt like with Mingi, neither made me crave more and more and more. But our lungs could only go on so long without air, and I would’ve been embarrassed for the loud gasp I let out when we finally parted, if it wasn’t for Mingi diving straight for my neck and finding the sweet spot that made me putty in his arms. And I tried to ignore his deep grunts as my fingers got tangled in his platinum blonde strands as he pressed open mouthed and wet kisses against my neck, his arms around my hips pulling me into an embrace that had my pulse showing through the skin of my neck. My lips were tingling and my lungs actually hurt, but I couldn’t care less when Mingi finally pulled back and blinked his dark eyes open, pupils dilated and lips so swollen he almost made me chase after them once again.

『Oh, just to see what you'd do

'Cause I'm so drunk on you』

“What’s in the thermos?” His voice was raspier than usual, and it made me bite my bottom lip as my eyes searched his face, his falling on my lips instead.

“Hot chocolate, for peace making.” I answered, sounding a lot more breathless than I actually felt, and Mingi chuckled, the sound deep in his throat. I let my arms fall from his shoulders and instead circled them around his torso, trying to fight off the smile from my lips. Mingi didn’t look angry nor dismissive anymore, but I knew I wasn’t actually forgiven just yet. And that was only fair.

“This is peacemaking, not the hot chocolate.” And there it was, the mischievous glint in his eyes and the smug smirk on his lips as he squeezed my hips once and lowered his face until our lips brushed together, “Although I do appreciate the hot chocolate too.”

“Good, my mom was rather excited when she told me to give it to you.” I pressed a chaste kiss against Mingi’s lips before he could try and say anything, and he chuckled when I pulled away, eyes creasing and crooked front teeth showing.

“What are we now?” His voice was a mere whisper, not insecure nor scared, just wondering, “What do you want?”

I gulped, but decided to be honest. No more hiding my feelings and thoughts from him, “I don’t know just yet, and that’s why I need you to take the lead, but this—I want more of this, of you.”

“Good,” Mingi hummed, lips pursed as he kissed my cheek once before slowly releasing me from his warm embrace, “because I’ve been wanting more of you for fucking ages, doll.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle as suddenly I felt embarrassed and perhaps a little shy, but Mingi seemed to be unphased as he grabbed my tote bag and looked through it because his clothes were in it, “You can keep these, they looked better on you anyway. But you better not give them to Yunho if he ever happens to go over to your house—”

“Mingi.” I snapped mortified and pushed his arm as he dropped the tote bag and burst out laughing, giving me a cheeky smile.

“Want to hear the rest of the song I made for you?”

“For me?”

“Yeah, doll, for you.”

            By the time I managed to get home I might as well been on cloud nine and in so much ecstasy that one would think I was on drugs. Which, kind of felt like it after the day I have had—not that I’ve ever done any drugs. I failed to notice my mother’s silhouette in the window of our kitchen when I got out of Mingi’s car and, of course, that meant she saw him get out of his old Honda Prelude and jog after me to kiss me hard and leave me dizzy before he left. And all of that, of course, meant that by the time I unlocked the front door and stepped inside, my mother was leaning against the archway of the kitchen with the widest smirk I’ve ever seen on her face.

“So, did you have sex?”

My eyes widened in mortification and I struggled to step out of my boots and shrug off my jacket, “Mom!”

“So, you did, huh.” It wasn’t even a question, and suddenly running after Mingi’s car sounded a lot better than standing in front of my mother as she bit her bottom lip, giving me a wink.

“We didn’t!” I exclaimed, cheeks flushed a deep red as I cradled the tote bag to my chest, “He needs to take me out on a date first—many dates, actually.”

“Well, he better hurry up then cuz you’re glowing and you’re happy.” I froze at my mother’s words as she looked at me with a serene expression on her face, lips pulled into a small smile, forgetting all about her previous teasing, “He’s good for you, too good. I haven’t seen you so relaxed and happy since—since highschool.”

Since Yunho broke up with me.

“I know, and I will make sure I never hurt him again.” I told my mom and she hummed, looking down at her wristwatch.

“You missed lunch, by the way, so you’ll eat chicken tenders—”

“Again?!”

“Again, exactly. Go wash up before dinner.”

And I was out of her sight in no time, with a newfound rush in my system, skin tingling as I realized I craved to hold my pencil and my sketchbook in my hands. I couldn’t remember the last time I drew something for me and not because it was an assignment. And if hours later the sketch looked a lot like a familiar platinum blonde haired man with sharp eyes and a tall nose wearing blue jeans, a white t-shirt and a beige cardigan over it, accessories many and nails painted black, then I wouldn’t even deny it anymore. Perhaps he would love seeing my drawings. Perhaps I should finally show him.

Mings 🖤: date on wednesday? Me: but im paying this time Mings 🖤: so when we went to the pottery coffee shop it was a date wasnt it, doll Me: maybe it was maybe it wasnt Mings 🖤: no maybes this time

『Oh, but you know me too well

Oh, but you know me too well, well』

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❀ complete the forms if you're interested! ^^

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Dedicated To New Lovers

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (she/her pronouns)

WC: ~5.5k

TW: Murder, Angst, Character Death, guns, violence, blood, swearing, depression, mentions of disordered eating, mentions of insomnia, self-deprecating thoughts, loneliness, heartbreak, Mentions of Emily's death, the grieving process, drinking, screaming, crying, sobbing, throwing up, being under pressure

A/N: This is based on s8 ep12, Zugzwang. It deviates slightly but still makes Spencer sob so it could basically be canon. Obviously, or maybe not to some people, this fic is based off of Night Shift by Lucy Dacus. It's been my obsession for the past couple weeks and I simply just had to write something for it. Now my one issue is, besides me ignoring editing it, is that I hate when things don't end happily, but I'm breaking out of the mold of everything ending with a nice neat little bow, so please enjoy! (well as much as you can for such a depressing fic lmao).

"Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life alone ---We find it with another." ~Thomas Merton.

“Thank you for such a wonderful night.” You murmured, pulling away from the kiss, hands on their chest. “I really enjoyed it Spe—”, you coughed and blinked a couple of times, catching yourself. “Especially,” You clutched your chest, smiling up at them, “Sorry I don’t know where that just came from.” 

The lips you had just kissed had shifted into a concerned smile, but was none the wiser. 

“Especially dessert. I loved the pie place, you were so right! The apple was just perfectly seasoned, and the crust was still crumbly.” You leaned up and kissed their cheek again. 

“I’ll see you again, yeah?” You whispered, before turning around and heading into your apartment building, not waiting for a response, smile falling the second you weren’t looking at them. You buzzed yourself in and quickly walked up the four flights of stairs towards your door.

You fucking hated pie. Well that wasn’t true, but you didn’t really want to spend your evening going and getting pie with someone you really weren’t that into. 

You couldn’t help but wonder why everything was wrong. They were kind, and sweet, and cared so much for you, but it just wasn’t the same. Your heart was just not in the place, and not a single butterfly fluttered around in your stomach, you couldn’t figure out what was wrong with you.

Well that was a lie too. You knew exactly what was wrong. 

“I’m fine, it’s fine.” You mumbled, getting your keys out and unlocking your front door, grabbing the mail off of the mat, and closing the door behind you. 

The boxes stacked precariously around your place just left you feeling more and more destitute on this island of loneliness. God you were so fucking dramatic. You dumped the roses they had given you, and your purse onto the kitchen counter, and went straight for the fridge, grabbing the bottle of Prosecco. The cork popped, and you took a swig straight from the bottle. 

Your phone rang, and you pulled it out of your pocket, sighing and answering it. 

“Hey Em.” 

“Wow, was it that bad of a date?” Emily laughed a little. She had been concerned about you, the whole team had been concerned about you. Her death had hit you and Spencer the hardest. You had become fast friends with Emily, regardless of the fact that when she joined, you were the youngest, and newest on the team as well. The two of you had become fast friends, and even faster sisters. She was your everything. She was there for your father’s death, the start of your relationship with Spencer, the harder cases, the bitching, the girls nights, the everything. But you had run into the warehouse, and saw Derek cradling her hand, screaming for a medic, and you just lost it. Your brain went into overdrive, rendering you useless. When JJ walked into the waiting room and told all of you the news, you sat there, shocked. Spencer had tried to go see her, but you had just excused yourself and walked out to the parking lot. It was devastating. You were allowed back from leave a week later than everyone else because Hotch knew you needed more time. So when she walked back into the round room, alive and well, your barely pieced together mind completely shattered all over again. 

You watched for seven months as Spencer let you grieve alone while running off to JJ’s house for comfort. You had sat alone in your shared apartment becoming more and more of a shell of a person, not really eating, sleeping, or even drinking water; you were barely existing. Five years of a relationship washed away because that first night, instead of comforting each other, Spencer had abandoned you at the hospital, forgetting to even drive you home. Then, when his headaches got, he pulled even further away, only hearing snippets of how he was doing from those on the team who didn’t even live with him. 

The team could only watch as you slowly became a ghost of yourself, while Spencer couldn’t even give a shit to notice. 

The first time he mentioned Maeve to you, it was like a stake in your chest. You had caught him talking to her when you had come back early from the therapy Hotch had almost threatened you at gunpoint to go to. He quickly hung up the phone and mentioned that she was his doctor, helping him with his headaches. But you knew better. You had heard him laughing before you walked into the apartment. You hadn’t heard him laugh since before Emily had “died”. 

Then, one night, he told you it was over.  I don’t love you anymore. 

You just sat there, chest caving in on yourself. 

Since this was my place first, uh…I can give you a couple of weeks to find a place, and I’ll even sleep on the couch…

His words bounced around in your head before Emily said your name. “You disappeared on me.” 

“Shit-uh, shit. Sorry Em.” You shook your head, and pinched your brow. “They were really lovely Em, just the best. But I’m just not ready.” 

Emily sighed, “I know it’s only been four months but I’m proud of you, I really am. For even going out in the first place. Want me to come over, bring a new bottle of prosecco.” 

You laughed, but it had no substance. “How’d you know I was almost out of Prosecco.” 

Emily sighed. “I know you’re a grown woman who can handle living alone, but Sergio and I wouldn’t have minded if you stayed with us for a couple more weeks.”  

“And I know that, and I love you so much for it, but the only way I’m ever going to be able to…” the words got stuck in your throat. “I, um. I had to.” 

Emily sighed, but understood. “Okay, well, if you need anything, I’m a phone call away, or a block away, whichever is faster for you.” 

“Thanks Emily. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And with that you hung up the phone, not wanting to prolong the conversation any more than it had. 

“Fucking Maeve.” You grumbled to the living room before taking another swig from the bottle. You barely slept these days. Your date this past night? The first time you had eaten a full meal in over two weeks. Your skin was a little more gaunt, and the concealer you were using was working overtime to hide the bags under your eyes. You were once someone filled with so much joy, and so much love to give. Everyone knew you were a touchy person, always giving hugs, touching people’s arms, squeezing their hands; if someone tried to touch you now, your whole body would tense up, your stomach would flip. Eventually, after finishing off the bottle, you fell into a restless sleep on the couch of your apartment, since you didn’t want to sleep alone in your own mattress, dreaming about the fact that someone else was probably in the one you bought with Spencer all those years ago when he asked you to live with him.  ------------------------------------------------------------------------

The office went silent as you walked into work the next morning. You were always one to arrive early, make your coffee, visit Penelope in the Bat Cave, stop by Hotch and Rossi’s offices and wish them a good morning. But these days you walked through those glass doors exactly at 9 am, unless you were called in. 

It was masochistic to still work at the BAU, but it was one dream you weren’t going to let Spencer take away from you. But as you walked into the bullpen, and all heads turned towards you with such pitiful looks, you doubted whether you belonged here anymore. 

Before you could place your bag down, Aaron walked over to you and quietly asked if you would come into his office. You obliged, a sinking feeling in your gut, as you followed Hotch, while the eyes of everyone else followed you. 

As Hotch opened the door, you froze. Spencer was sitting on the couch, trying to wipe away the tears in his eyes. He clearly also hadn’t been sleeping, but you knew those tears weren’t for you. You stayed in the doorway until Hotch gestured to one of the chairs along the side of his office. You moved away from the door, but stayed standing, refusing to sit down. Hotch closed the door, trapping you in his office with someone you hadn’t spoken more than necessary to in over four months.

“Do you want to tell me why I'm here.” You asked calmly, trying to ignore the desperate man on the couch, who was just staring down at his feet. 

“I am going to ask you to sit out this case.” Hotch looked at you, not sitting down either, ready to calm down whatever fight you’re about to put up. 

Your eyes narrowed at your section chief and you scoffed. “You better have a seriously good explanation Hotch because as I’ve told you many times before, I’m doing fine. I don’t know what has been said, but I’m perfectly capable at—”

“I asked him if you could sit out.” Spencer’s voice was hoarse, but solid as he looked at you. 

You closed your eyes and flexed one of your hands, resisting the urge to punch him in the teeth.

“Since when do you know what’s best for me, Doctor Reid.” It took all of your control to stay civil and not curse him out in front of your boss. 

“That’s not it.” Spencer licked his lips but he quickly averted his gaze. “T-The case. It’s um. It’s about Maeve and I–” 

Your heart dropped. Bile started to rise in your throat. “oh.” You had never felt so small in your life. Tears were forming in your eyes. “I’ll be right…I—” 

You barely even finished the thought before you opened the door, and quickly walked out of Hotch’s office. No one even tried to pretend that they weren’t watching Hotch’s office. Emily and Derek shot up off of their desks and immediately went to follow you as you sped down the stairs and through the bullpen. Hotch just looked down at his feet while Reid just rubbed his hands over his eyes. 

You shoved through the doors, accidentally bumping into Penelope on the way out, causing her to drop the files and coffee mug in her hand. It shattered on the ground, but you couldn’t stop to apologize. You needed to be in the bathroom before you became the agent who threw up all over the halls because of some stupid broken heart. 

Emily had quickly helped Penelope pick things up, the two exchanging hushed whispers and looks. Derek had apologized to Penelope while he ran past, catching up to you with every stride. You shoved open the door to one of the woman’s rooms, Derek right behind you. 

Luckily for you, it was empty, so you could continue running to the biggest stall, before dropping to your knees and throwing up. It burned your throat and your eyes, stinging every inch of skin as it rose up your throat and into the toilet in front of you. 

Derek had pulled back your hair, and was now sitting down next to you as you dry heaved into the toilet. You only threw up actual substance one more time, but it was just that stupid fucking apple pie and the Prosecco from the night before. There was nothing else in your stomach to throw up, so your body settled for making you gag continuously. 

“Fuck.” You cried into the toilet, letting yourself fully devolve into the mess you were destined to become this morning. 

Derek just rubbed your back, “It’s okay pretty girl, let it all out.” 

“Derek Morgan I think I am the ugliest son of a bitch right now.” You mumbled, reaching up and flushing the contents down the drain, tears still racing down your face. “I can’t fucking—” You tried to breathe in but your body was shutting down. That’s all it seemed to do these days. It felt like the only way to protect yourself anymore. “He–”

“I know.” He whispered softly, offering you some toilet paper to let you wipe off your face, as you leaned back, away from the toilet. 

That’s when the first sob wracked your body. Maybe you weren’t meant to be on this team anymore. Spencer had been here longer. You were only an asset to the team because of your positive attitude which left your body the second Emily Prentiss was pronounced dead in that waiting room. You were the definition of useless. I mean, Derek and Emily were partners, Hotch and Rossi had everything down pat, and Spencer, even when you were dating, was truly partnered with JJ most of the time. You were the odd man out, and you were fucking useless. 

Derek had pulled you into his chest, hugging you as the sobs continued. His heart was breaking for you. No one on the team really knew what had happened that night, all they knew was that you didn’t come in one day, and then when you did the next, you looked like shit. All while Spencer seemed fine. Then, when your desk was moved to the opposite side of the bullpen, it confirmed any and all guesses the profilers had been making. You were never paired with him on cases anymore, and if you were, there was always a third person. You barely looked at one another. Spencer’s scarf had reappeared on his desk one morning, and suddenly you were no longer staying in the same hotel rooms. Derek just kissed your head as you let your body give up. 

He wasn’t stupid. Like everyone else, he had noticed the way you had been losing weight. He had noticed the amount of makeup you had started to wear. He even realized that he hadn’t seen you eat any meals with them in the past couple months while they were out on cases. But what he hadn’t fully realized was the fact that you were dead, inside and out. There was nothing left of you but the barely alive body he was holding. 

Spencer had really gotten a good look at you for the first time in a very long time. He had already felt guilty about the fact that he had Maeve, and that you had broken up he had broken your heart. But what he had failed to realize was the same thing Derek had–You were someone entirely different, a ghost of yourself. The guilt was gnawing through his stomach when he told Hotch what was going on, and he had begged Hotch to let you sit out, trying to save you from this, but clearly Spencer couldn’t do anything right for you anymore, he hadn’t been able to in a very long time. Hotch had cleared his throat while Spencer shook his head. “I-I tried Hotch, I really didn’t want…”

He just nodded at Spencer. “I know Reid, but you must have known there was no way this conversation was going to go any better than that.” 

Reid just nodded, and stood up, going out into the bullpen, not missing the way all of their eyes snapped to him, as Penelope dumped her broken mug into the trash. 

Before anyone could say anything, Hotch walked out of his office and looked at everyone. “As you all could have guessed, Agent Y/L/N will not be joining us on this case. I expect everyone in the conference room in ten.” and with that, Hotch walked past Reid, and down the stairs, out towards where he had assumed you had run off too. 

Spencer just stood on the stairs, watching Hotch walk to you, wishing it could be him to hold you in his arms.

Hotch opened the door to the women’s bathroom, and saw Derek cradling you. As you heard the door open, your body had tensed up and all of your tears had stopped. Derek and Hotch shared a look before Hotch kneeled down. 

“Sorry Aaron.” You mumbled, trying to wipe away the remaining tears on your face. 

“Don't apologize. Take the next couple of days off. Penelope might call and ask you a question or two, if she manages to forgive you for breaking her third favorite coffee mug…” 

You laughed slightly at his joke, trying not to let it cause you to cry even more, wiping away more tears. 

“But I expect you don’t need me to tell you this is an order.” 

You nodded at Hotch while you stood up, Derek quickly following suit. “We’re meeting in ten.” He nodded at Derek, who took the hint. He squeezed your arm, and kissed your head, whispering to call him if you needed anything, before leaving just you and Hotch alone in the bathroom. He held up your purse and gave you a sympathetic smile. 

“I am only a phone call away Y/n. If anything happens, I want to be the first to know.” He nodded at you, only for you to pull him into a hug. Hotch smiled slightly, because you hadn’t really hugged anyone for a while, so he quickly reciprocated before pulling away. “Hotch, can I ask you one more favor?” 

“Anything,” He said softly.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once he had left, You grabbed a paper towel from the dispenser and tried to wipe as much of the mascara track marks off. You eventually just wiped off your whole face of makeup. You stared at yourself, realizing just how fucked you were. Eventually, you had made your way out of the bathroom, and past the bullpen. Everyone was piling into the conference room, but Spencer had stopped to watch you enter the elevator, really looking at you. You made eye contact right as the doors started to close. Spencer’s gut twisted at the forlorn look on your face. But before he could do anything, the doors were closed, you were gone, and his name was called by Hotch. -------------------------------------------------------------------------

According to the updates from Emily and Derek, the case was not going well. You knew very little about it, and you wanted to keep it this way, but you knew this case wasn’t going to end well. You could just tell. 

You had been existing in your own apartment, making frequent trips to Emily’s to keep your favorite cat company. You would go on long walks as the sun set, nowhere truly in mind, just wandering around trying to think about anything else. You would listen to your music, trying to take your mind off of the man who you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about since you first joined the team. It could have been yesterday based on how well you remembered it. 

But instead of wallowing, you tried to at least wallow in public, resolving to minimize the sheer amount of pity parties you had been throwing yourself.

Three days later, you had been walking around aimlessly, just trying to hit your new goal of 10,000 steps a day to start being active again, when your phone rang. You had answered it without a thought in the world since usually it was Derek, Hotch, and Emily on the other end. 

But this time, it was none of them. 

“Hello?” Spencer’s entire body froze once he heard your voice, once he knew that Diane knew who you were. 

“I just want her to see one more thing.” 

“Hello?” You asked again, just about to hang up, thinking it was some sort of prank call when a woman spoke to you. 

“Is this Doctor Y/N Y/L/N?” Maeve looked over at Spencer, confusion and horror in her eyes, while Spencer just stared at the phone, willing for you to hang up. 

“Um, yes? May I ask who this is…” 

“My name is Diane.” 

“Um, okay, Diane. Can I ask why you’re calling me.” You had just walked into your apartment, Spencer could hear the unfamiliar creek of the door as it slammed shut. 

“What do you know about Doctor Maeve Donovan.” 

Your whole body froze. “What?” barely even whispering out your response. 

“What do you know about Maeve.” Her temper exploded, and you just sat there trying to breathe. 

“Wh-what do you want to know about her?” You had taken several courses in negotiation, taught by David Rossi himself, so your training started to kick in, but your panic was fighting strongly against it. You just couldn't bring yourself to say her name.

The team was outside of the building, when Garcia had called and tapped them into the phone call Diane was making. When they heard your voice, all of them froze. This was not what she was supposed to do. How the hell did she even know about you? 

“I want you to tell me about how she ruined your life.”

Spencer tried to speak but Diane pointed the gun at Maeve, making him go silent. Maeve had started silently crying, unable to believe this is what her life had become. 

“I–, You want me to tell you about some woman I have never met?”

“Yes yes yes. Why won’t any of you fucking listen.” You recieved a text on your watch, from Hotch, briefing you on the fact that Diane had both Spencer and Maeve hostage in the warehouse she was calling from.

You took a shaky inhale before biting your lips. “I want to know that they’re both okay Diane. I need to hear both Spencer and M..Maeve speak.” God this was so fucking hard, it hurt so fucking badly.

Diane rolled her eyes before nodding at Maeve. “H-hi.” She whispered. “I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t—” she was cut off but the barrel of the gun pushed against her head. 

All you could do was clutch your fist while she spoke, because you realized you couldn’t be angry at her for falling in love with Spencer, because you had too. 

“And Spencer?” Your voice cracked out, desperate to hear his voice. 

“Go on Spencer. Tell her you’ve been okay without her.” 

Spencer winced and spoke up, dying for you to just hang up the phone. “I’m here Y/N.” 

The way he said your name made you want to curl up into a ball and die, but it wasn’t good enough for Diane. 

“Not good enough Spencer. Tell her how you ruined her life. She deserves to hear it from you since you broke her just like you broke me for loving the ONE WOMAN I DESERVED TO BE LOVED BY.” 

Spencer heard the sharp intake of your breath. He could hear you trying not to cry. After everything, he never wanted to hurt you, but clearly he had fucked himself over and over with every single decision he made. He knew you knew he was playing along with her fantasy, but he knew that you hearing these words would ruin your life more than any gunshot would. 

“Tell me Spencer.” You breathed out, knowing if he continued to play along, maybe he could make it out of this alive, regardless of everything that had gone on between the two of you. 

“Please.” Spencer turned to Diane. “She has nothing to do with this, let her hang up the ph–”

“If she hangs up, I shoot Maeve and let you watch as she dies.” 

And there it was. There was a small, awful part of you that wanted to hang up the phone right then and there. Let him suffer and feel the pain you had been feeling for months and months. Your silence was enough to let Spencer know you were struggling, which hurt him even more because that same small part of him knew he deserved it, forgiveness for you and all. 

The team listened to the silence, some of them waiting for the dial tone, others grieving the shit you put yourself through just for someone who didn't love you anymore.

“Would you rather I tell you how he ruined my life, just like he did yours?” You breathed out, finally saying something. The entire SWAT team, along with your team was listening in, everyone was waiting with bated breath to hear--everyone wanted to know.

Prentiss looked over at Hotch. “Hotch we can’t let her do this. It…”

But Hotch just shook his head. “If we hang up the phone, Maeve dies, and if nobody complies with Diana, both Spencer and Maeve die.”

Rossi spoke up. “You have to trust her, she’s negotiating. She’s buying us time. Whether or not we should be listening to this is the real question.” 

All of them went silent after that, a decision had been made. 

Diane’s face twisted into a smile. “I’d love too.” 

You closed your eyes and let out a shaky breath. “D-Do you know what it’s like, Diane, to walk into work every morning and have every single person who promises you they care about you over and over and over again just stare at you like you're some sort of wounded puppy? Watching as they handle you like a glass figurine that they all feel responsible for breaking, and yet the one person who threw you against the wall doesn’t even notice.” 

Diane huffed, but she nodded. ”Keep going.”

“Do you know how long we were together?” 

Spencer couldn’t decide who the question was for. 

“Tell me Spencer. Tell me how many days of her life you threw away just to love someone who you’ve never met before..”

He couldn’t look at Maeve. He couldn’t look at Diane. Your heart had given out right then and there, they had never even met in person. He had fallen in love with a woman he'd never seen before.

“Tell her Spencer.” You voice came out harsher than intended, your resolve was gone, but it made Diane smile even more, becoming comfortable with the taste of venom in your mouth. 

His voice wavered. “Five years, two months, nine days, and three hours.” 

You let out something resembling a controlled sob, which had Diane’s smile growing by the second. Maeve just stared at him, and Spencer couldn’t tell if she was horrified or upset or just sad. 

“You threw away over five years worth of love, to ruin my relationship?” 

“Diane.” You said suddenly, trying to get her attention back off of the two people she was holding hostage. 

“What.” She was starting to become irritated, ancy, waving the gun around more. 

“Want to know the worst part about it.” 

“If you tell it to me quickly because I’m running out of patience Y/N.”

“He’s making me transfer departments.” 

Your big secret was out. 

“What.” Spencer breathed out, the shock spread across his face. He couldn’t imagine the bullpen without you, and when he wasn't on the phone with Maeve, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. The days where you weren’t near him went by torturously slow, and all he could do was hope that you might look at him again, let him apologize, let him fix this. Diane watched as the pain flashed across Spencer's face, enjoying it.

The team all turned to Hotch, hoping that she was bluffing. But Hotch just looked down at the ground, confirming the awful truth. 

“I just finished putting in my transfer today.” You didn't know who you were explaining it to–the team, to Diane, or to Spencer, maybe all of them. 

“Being around him, knowing he doesn’t lo—” You went silent for a second before switching gears. “This was my dream.” Your lips started talking, and everyone listened intensely. “I trained specifically for the BAU. I got three Bachelors in worthless shit so that the FBI would spike its interest in me so that I could get into the academy and prove myself to Agent Hotchner. Prove myself to Jason Gideon. Then I went and got a PhD in Psychology with focuses in Trauma and Forensic Sciences. And I fucking loved it. I had finally proven to myself that maybe, just maybe, I was good enough. I finally found a place I belonged, with the people I belonged with. And I was so fucking good at my job Diane. You wouldn’t even comprehend it. But he took all of it from me. Every last bit of joy was sucked out of my body the minute he told me he didn’t love me anymore. The minute he didn’t even apologize for breaking my heart and ruining everything I worked so hard for. And then he still expected me to be at my best, getting pissed when I would be distracted, disrespecting me and my intelligence in front of our peers, our friends. He neglected our relationship, abandoning me when I needed him the most, and then expected me to love him all the same. The audacity is through the fucking roof.” 

Spencer was just staring at the phone, heart beating loudly in his chest. “And the honest to god truth Diane, the worst part of it all, I would forgive him in a heartbeat. I don’t even know why I would, I feel no fucking reason to forgive him, but I might as well. If he asked me to greet him on the tarmac and kiss him once this case is over and he survives, I might, just so I can remember how it felt to be loved. He barely noticed that I had stopped eating, or didn’t care enough to say anything. He didn't do shit when I would show up half an hour late to the jet because I was so exhausted that I fell asleep at my desk, because I haven’t slept in months. He just doesn’t care anymore and I’d rather die than step foot into Quantico again because losing him was already too much to fucking bare. I’d rather never see him ever again, if I can help it.” 

You exhaled, feeling the slightest weight off of your chest, but your words were calculated. The end of your rant held some truth to it, both you and Spencer knew that, but something about the last line of what you had said was bugging Emily. 

She turned to Hotch. “Rossi is right, she’s stalling.” 

“But?” JJ asked her, looking at the building, before looking back at Emily. 

“She’s trying to get Diane to shoot Spencer to save Maeve.” 

Just as the entire team realized this, they heard Spencer’s voice, steady and unwavering. “I told her not to come on this case because I knew she would have slowed us down.” 

Your brain shortcircuited as a hand came up to cover up your sob. Not because what he said was the truth but because Spencer knew what you were doing, and he was trying to do the same thing.

“She’s been useless ever since our friend was killed during a case almost two years ago. She’s barely intelligent, and all she does for this team, truly, is parade around with a positive attitude that gets on on everyone else's nerves because she could never put as much effort into anything as you clearly have.” 

Diane walked over to him, squatting down in front of him. “I want to hear you say it to her Spencer.”

Your mouth betrayed you as a soft whimper came through the phone. Spencer didn't mean all of this, he couldn't have, but hearing the words still burned you alive.

“I-I…You slow this team down, and I have always thought you were a waste of space. I never loved you…” And if it wasn't for the slight change in pitch right as he said never, Diane would have believed him, but she pulled away glaring at Spencer. 

“Liar.” She hissed at him. “Liar, Liar, LIAR.” 

All you could hear through the phone was a muffled struggle before a shot rang out. You heard a second one and heard Spencer land near the phone. You couldn’t make a single sound, conjuring up the worst scenarios in your head. You could hear him trying to negotiate with Diane. You could hear Maeve struggling to breathe. You heard him begging to take her place, you heard Diane screaming about Thomas Merton. 

You heard Spencer scream out wait before a gun shot rang out through the warehouse. Everyone was silent, for all you knew Spencer was dead. He had been shot agasin and killed, and the last thing you would have ever said to him was that you never wanted to see him again. But then, you heard Spencer start sobbing. The small twisted part of you came back and was so relieved that he was okay, that he was alive. But listening to the man you would die for cry over another woman’s body made your skin turn inside out. You had out your phone on speaker for your rant, leaving it on the counter. You reached for it, ready to hang up. But that’s when you heard your name. 

Spencer had sobbed your name. 

He scrambled over to the phone and frantically repeated your name over and over until you interrupted him. 

“Spencer.”

“I’m so fucking sorry.” He whispered, sitting against the wall unable to look at the bodies on the floor. "I didn't...I didn't mean any of it, I swear."

“Spencer. I–” You inhaled sharply. “It’s selfish but I’m glad you’re still alive.” You whispered out, causing Spencer to let out another sob. 

"Y/N I-I'm so sorry. I-Can you..."

“I-I can’t do this Spence. I’m so sorry.” You whispered, your heart shattering all over again. “I can’t….I’m sorry.” And with that, you hung up, leaving Spencer on the floor, heartbroken and sobbing, truly losing both women he had ever loved in the matter of seconds. 

"You will never know true pain until you look into the eyes of someone you love, and they look away." ~ Anonymous

Next Part

[webslingingslasher]

i’m seated for some sneak peaks of things you have in the drafts hehe

here's a blurb for munch frat!peter:

'hand this card to the last person to eat pussy.'

tarrent has a gleam in his eye as he proudly pushes it into peter's chest. 'drink up, bro.'

you're not watching, the content of your cup is more interesting. but you're listening to see exactly how peter plays this one off because he hasn't even tried- let alone offered to go down on you.

peter hands the card back. 'nah, i don't do that.' he says it like it's a joke and his friends laugh with him, like he's too humble to accept the crown title of carpet muncher.

---

here's a blurb for hockey!peter fighting for his life over a jersey

'hey, can i have a kiss?' the audacity. you cross your arms again and look to the side, 'no.' peter frowns, you lean away when you feel his lips on your cheek.

'no? not even after i just won?'

'you didn't deserve it.' you grumble it from the side of your mouth, peter catches it and feels offended. 'don't get pouty and tell me i deserved to lose.'

you turn to him, your eyes screamed fire at him. 'don't humilate me and demand a kiss then.'

---

here's a blurb for cherry!peter who's doing the best he can to make cherry's sex dream come to life

'i've been so good, haven't i been so good for you?' peter can sense a little bit of a praise kink in you, it's fitting. 'you're always good for me. you're my good girl, aren't you?'

a whimper, it's so much better when it's real. 'i'm your good girl.' a harsh grind, you clutch peter's forearm while you throw your head back. 'yeah? that feels good?'

'call me your pretty baby.' peter doesn't know where the direction is coming from but he likes it. 'does my pretty baby feel good?' an audible moan, he's fucking perfect at this.

---

here's a blurb for bf!frat!peter with a girlfriend who should always come first

peter is totally saving you for last and you're about to go nuts on him. sure, there might be a line of people and sure, you might be the one in the least danger but you're owed some sort of urgency.

'hello?' you call it out, you sound impatient. 'spider-man?' you are impatient. you call for him again, he holds up a hand and you gasp. 'oh you little- spider-man, you better come help me right now or i swear to god i'll...' you have no real threat. 'just don't tempt me!'

peter doesn't come help you, he's still helping an older woman and you're about to throw yourself into a fire for some attention. 'excuse me? i'm looking for my boyfriend, have you seen him?'

---

here's a blurb from that blurb... you know... the one where peter has hooked up with trouble's friend?

if peter was a brat, he'd say that you're not supposed to be talking to him. instead, he extends his hand out and watches heavy footing beat up the staircase. the second his door slams, his best friend is asking what the fuck happened with his eyes.

'she's mad at me.' his door swings open, you shout down to him. 'i'm not mad! we're broken up!' another slam. ethan's expecting a lot more from peter than a shrug. 'no we're not.'

his door hits the wall, another scream, 'yes we are!' a third slam, this time, he's got two friends coming out of their rooms and glancing between his bedroom door and the lower level where peter had crossed arms.

'what's going-' peter flails his arms around, trying to stop the impending question and what he knows is all you need to give him a round two, but worse because now you're no longer in public.

a sheepish grin crosses over a brother's face when his door explodes open, peter thinks there might be a hole behind his door where the handle matches up perfectly.

---

here's a blurb where ethan walks in on sexy time :(

'liar! he saw me from behind!' you know he did, it was all on show. everything's ruined. peter's trying his best to be soothing. 'hey, even if he did, he won't say anything. it's ethan, you know ethan.'

you do. that's why it's so bad. the reminder makes you cry harder, peter connects the dots. 'oh jeez, trouble. here, come give me a hug.' it's a pathetic reach, you want nothing more than to be locked away in his hold, hidden and secret from the outside world.

'he-' you suck in air, curling in even closer to peter as if you weren't on his lap already. 'he saw me having sex.' you pull peter's arms tighter around you, it almost hurts it's so tight. it's what you need.

'i know, baby. i'm so sorry.' at least he's being honest.

'how much did he see?' peter doesn't know either, he was a little busy underneath you. he just knows the second he saw his door open, his instinct was to protect you.

'very little.' you feel kisses over your head, 'please stop crying.'

---

here's a blurb where nerdy!peter has no filter when he's drunk

'hi, honey.' you hold his arm tightly, 'don't lean over.' bending at the waist you reach for the keys, peter groans and shouts an exaggerated 'oh my god!'

you fly up, the metal tucked between your fingers. 'what?' you look around, peter's busy staring down your skirt while his teeth sink into his bottom lip. 'your ass is so nice.'

you suck in a deep breath and ignore the flush of warmth covering your chest. 'thank you, petey.' you ignore the slight shake in your hand when you shove the key in.

peter's door gets stuck a lot and you have to shove your shoulder into it a little. while you're doing your best to raid the door, a hand slides up the back of your thigh and gives you a tight squeeze. you jump and yelp, your hand reaching back to throw his off.

'peter!' he giggles and turns his head like you wouldn't be able to see him anymore. 'i just wanted to touch it a little.' peter's fingertips lightly drag up your thigh, you slap it away again. he giggles harder, the sound bubbles out of him.

'i'm trying to get us inside, leave my butt alone.' you have his promise, and you nudge the door a little, a sharp smack has you wipping around to face him. peter shoots his hands up, 'last one, i promise! that was the last one!'

[scarisd3ad]

Trouble

Chapter - two (They say I did something bad, then why’s it feel so good?)

Pairing(s) - Stu Macher x fem!reader x Billy Loomis

Previous >> next

Summary - They say I did something bad, then why's it feel so good? most fun I ever had, and I'd do it over and over and over again if I could. It just felt so good, good.

(A/N) - I know it’s been almost 4 months since the first chapter was posted but I finally got myself caught up and finally got this finished!

Warnings - mentions of murder, mentions of blood, regular scream warnings, infidelity, cursing, violent language, violent situations, murder, graphic descriptions of violence and murder, blood, many character deaths.

Masterlist

Taglist

It's 9:30 Stu, Billy, and I are sitting in my kitchen dressed in our Ghostface robes. The only thing that was left was our masks, which each sat on my kitchen counter. "You ready?" Stu asks as he hands me the glistening hunting knife. We each had one just in case we ran into trouble.

It's exactly 10 pm when we see Steve's car pull up in front of Casey's house. Stu and Billy do the hard part of kidnapping Steve Orth. They drag him into my house, and duct tape him to a yard chair in my living room. I'm still scared we might get caught, that somehow either one of them will escape and we'll all go to jail.

Steve wakes up right as Stu and Billy are bickering about who's going to end up killing him. "I want to kill him; I was the one who came up with the idea to kill him," Stu whispers shouts as he crosses his arms over his chest. "Well, I came up with the entire fucking plan, so I should be the one to do it." Billy says. Steve's eyes flutter open, but the two are too engrossed in their conversation to notice. Steve's eyes flicked across the room, trying to make sense of what was going on. His eyes stopped on me first, then Stu, then Billy, holding the knife. By then, he knew he was in deep shit. He struggles, trying to pull his arms and legs out of the duct tape restraints. "Wha-what the hell's going on?!" Steve shouts. 

Billy's head cocks to the side. "We just wanna play a game, Steve," he says, his voice now modified by a voice changer that we bought at the Halloween pop-up shop. Steve's eyes furrow eyes still flicking between each one of us. "wha-what?" Billy laughs as he approaches Steve. He caresses his face with the sharp blade of his knife. Billy ignores Steve's answers and goes on the explain the rules of the 'game'. "The rules are simple: you answer our questions correctly, and your girlfriend doesn't get gutted like a fuckin' pig." the mention of Casey lights a fire inside of Steve. He struggles desperately, trying to break free. "You better not fucking hurt her! I'll fucking kill you if you touch her!" I can practically see Billy's smile through his mask as he presses the blade against Steve's neck.

Billy stood there, silent and intense, almost as if he were telepathically threatening him. Steve, oblivious to the warning, continued to fidget and threaten to kill us all if we didn't release him. Billy doesn't waste another second before slitting Steve's throat, letting him bleed out in my living room. "Well, that was boring," Stu mutters under his breath as he and Billy drag Steve's lifeless body into Casey's backyard.

-

Everything else goes according to plan. We sneak into her house using the spare key hidden under the doormat. We wait and listen as she enters the house. Then, Billy calls her, she discovers Steve's body outside on her back patio, and we chase her around. Everything goes smoothly until the very end. Stu isn't able to get to her in time. She's inches from getting away, and I can't let that happen. I run up in front of Stu and grab Casey tightly, holding her against my body before plunging the knife into her chest. She whimpers as I throw her to the ground. She looked down, crying as she watched her blood slowly begin to stain her cream-colored sweater.

I kneel to the ground, about to finish her off, when she attempts to knock the knife out of my hands. I'm quick to wrap my hand around her neck. She desperately grabbed at my hands, trying to loosen my grip as she cried. I don't give in, my hands tightening around her throat. But Casey was clever. She kneed me right in the crotch, causing me to double over in pain, and I cursed under my breath. "God dammit. Bitch!" Just when I was starting to recover, I noticed her parents arriving and Casey, despite her injuries, was making her way towards them, limping.

If I didn't act quickly, she would reach them, and we would all be caught. Luckily, the amount of pressure I had put on her neck had caused her to lose her voice, making her unable to call out to them. When I sneaked up behind her, her parents had already gone inside, giving me the perfect opportunity to finish her off. Her body feels lifeless as I push her back onto the creaking wooden porch. Despite her dwindling strength, she manages to reach up and grab my mask, slowly peeling it off my face. I don't care at this point, knowing I'm seconds away from killing her, anyway. Once my face is fully visible, the expression on her face changes. Although the life in her eyes is fading, I discern the shock, confusion, and sense of betrayal that registers in her gaze for a fleeting moment before I draw the knife back and plunge it back into her chest several times. One, two, three, four. 

The only thing that gets me to stop is Stu's hand on my shoulder. I'm panting as I turn around. "Holy shit!" Stu's mask muffles his laugh as he stares down at the carnage that I left behind. "We gotta get her up in that tree before her parents come back out," Billy says as he walks up behind Stu. I grab my mask that was still somehow clutched in her blood-splattered hands. I go back inside as they gut her and tie her up in the tree.

I'm standing in my bathroom washing the blood off of my face. I stare at myself in the mirror, looking at the woman I have become. If we got caught somehow, my life would be over. There'd be no college, no family, no house behind a picket fence. The only thing I'd know is orange jumpsuits and metal bars. Even with the pit of anxiety that sat in my stomach, it all still felt so exhilarating. The blood, the knife, the act of taking someone's life just felt so exciting. I kind of liked it in a way. The knife just felt so good in my hands, and the blood felt so good against my skin.

"Hey-" I jump, dropping the rag I was holding into the sink before spinning around on my heels. Stu stands in the doorway with a smirk on his face as I grasp at my chest. "Oh, my god Stu, you scared me!" I say as he slowly walks towards me. He's still dawning his robes, which are now blood stained. "You did good out there for that being your first kill. I'm impressed," I laugh as he wraps one arm around my waist, pulling me close to him. "You think so?" I ask shyly, as if I hadn't stabbed her 4 times in the chest. "Oh, I know so, baby," he says before pressing his lips to mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Every time I kissed him, I couldn't believe all of this was happening to me. "God, can you two get out of the way?" Billy groans as he walks into the bathroom.

We pull away to see Billy, who is now back in his street clothes. He turns the sink on before splashing water onto his face in an effort to get rid of the splattered blood off of his face. He's going to Sid's after this so he can have an alibi that wasn't us. Stu was going to stay here so I could have an alibi. It'd be suspicious if I was home alone all night while Casey Becker was getting murdered next door. He sneaks out my bedroom window and runs down the alleyway behind the houses in my neighborhood until he's far enough away to feel safe enough to walk down the sidewalk.

- 

20 minutes later, we're laying on my bed, tongues shoved into each other mouths, and my shirt thrown somewhere on the floor. I heard police sirens blaring down our street about 10 minutes ago. I just hoped they wouldn't feel the need to question us. I run my hands through his hair as his lips venture down my neck, sucking and biting at the supple flesh. I didn't mind if he left any marks, if one of the girls, or Randy ever asked, I could always come up with the excuse that I found a boyfriend. It's a dumb excuse, but the girls would be excited. They were always trying to set me up with guys from our school. They didn't want me to feel left out when they were making out with their boyfriends, on movie nights, at parties, or even just our regular lunch spot at school.

I throw my head back, giving him more access to my neck. I'm about to grind up into his body when 3 loud and sharp knocks interrupt us. I yelp before pushing Stu off of me and scattering to try to find my shirt. "Do we have to answer it? Can't we just ignore'em?" Stu asks. we already knew who it was. It was impossible for it not to be the police. "No! we'll seem more suspicious if we don't." I say as I pull my shirt over my head and begin to walk downstairs.

We already had a made-up story for what we were doing tonight, knowing they'd ask. We were just watching movies with Casey, and one other unnamed boy that would take the fall for any hickeys, or the lingering smell of sex on my body. she left at around 9:15 because her boyfriend was coming over, that was the last time we saw her. I pull the deadbolt off before unlocking and throwing the door open to see Dewey Riley. I let out a sigh of relief. Thank God it was Dewey. He'd at least be a little more lenient with me. 

I put on my "innocent act." "Hey Dewey," I furrowed my brows and asked, "What's going on?" I looked around, trying to appear confused as I stared at the cop cars and ambulances. Dewey clears his throat "Well...um, Casey Becker was murdered next door" My hand slaps over my mouth as I gasp. Tears pooled in my eyes. I could see the pity in Dewey's eyes. I was good. "We need to question you and any others that are in the house" I nod as I hear Stu begin to walk down the stairs behind me. Dewey's eyes flick up to him, brows furrowing before asking, "Stuart, what are you doing here?" Stu shrugs "Hanging out. What's going on?" I can feel Dewey's eyes settle on the big red hickey that sat on my neck. His eyes then flick up to Stu, whose hair is a mess. I can see the suspicion in his eyes. He clears his throat once again before saying, "We need you two down at the station for questioning."

-

I find myself in a dimly lit interrogation room at the police station, my leg bouncing up and down with nervous energy. Suddenly, a police officer, one I've never met before, enters the room, muttering my name before taking a seat in the chair opposite me. Officer Torres introduced himself and placed a small notepad on the table. "We have a few questions for you. Can you please tell us what you were doing at 9 o'clock tonight?" he inquired. "Um hanging out with friends," I lean back in my chair, trying to make enough eye contact to seem innocent without overdoing it and seeming guilty.

He nodded, then shifted his gaze down to his notepad, where he began to write. "Who all was there?" he asks, now raising his head to look at me again. "Um Stu, me Casey...and this guy she said he older 'n went to the community college. Oh...and Billy, he came over earlier but left to go be with his girlfriend." the officer nods before writing again. "This is Stuart Macher, Casey Becker, and Billy Loomis?" my leg bounced up and down under the table anxiously. I just hoped that Stu was at least sort of sticking to the story we came up with. "Yes, sir." I whisper. He nods, jotting down a few more notes before moving on to the next question "Um what..what exactly happened while you were hanging out? Did Casey seem scared...that something might happen to her? Did she ever mention someone threatening her in any way?" I shook my head; my heart was beating a mile a minute. One wrong move, one slip up, and they would put me away for life. "No sir. We just hung out watching movies and stuff. Casey and the college boy left at...I Dunno maybe 9:30 said her boyfriend was coming over."

I look up at the clock that hangs directly behind the officer. 11 pm. God, I just wished this could all be over with. "What about this other boy? Do you know his name?" he asks. I shake my head. We couldn't give him a name. There was always a possibility this made-up man somehow had an identical real-life counterpart we didn't know about, and our entire plan would be in shambles. "Did they both go back to her house?" I shake my head once again "No..um, I watched him drive off. Something about a house party in the town over" he nods, jotting down a few more notes. "What about Billy Loomis? What time did he leave?" 

The relentless stream of questions felt never-ending. "What did you do after?" "Did you hear anything?" "Are you sure you didn't hear anything?" "Where's your brother tonight?" I just hoped I didn't look too suspicious and that all of my answers seemed true. I didn't get back out into the lobby until 11:30. Stu still wasn't done. I just hoped he didn't do something stupid.

I'm sat by Dewey's desk while he files out some type of paperwork. "Are you going to tell my parents?" I whisper, hoping he wouldn't, but knowing deep down he would because of legality. "Have to since we questioned you. You're a minor." I turned 18 at the end of next month. Did he have to tell them? They'd kill me if they knew I had boys over. "Do you have to tell them about the boys being over? They'll kill me if they knew?" he sighs, looking up at me before saying, "I'll see what I can do."

I stare down at my hands, I'm terrified that the police officer had seen right through me and knew exactly what I did. That I had killed her, and it felt so good. Deep down I hate myself for liking it so much. Tears pool in my eyes as the emotion and realization of what I had done set in. Tears streamed down my face as I desperately tried to wipe them away. "Hey, hey what's wrong?" Dewey asks, as he sets his hand on my shoulder. "I-I just can't believe she's dead!" I sobbed as I wiped at my cheeks. "If I had heard something..." I stop to let a few more tears fall down my cheeks "I could've helped her." 

- 

After Stu finishes his interrogation, Dewey gives us a ride back to my house in his police car. The entire block is still bathed in the eerie glow of the red and blue police lights. The Becker residence is cordoned off with bright yellow crime scene tape, and her parents are standing on the sidewalk, sobbing as they speak with the chief of police. "You sure you wanna stay here? Can take you back to my parent's place? Tatum wouldn't say no to a sleepover." Dewey proposed. I shake my head, mumbling a quiet "no" as I open up the car door. "You need a ride home, Mácher?" Stu also shakes his head as he begins to follow me, sliding out of the cop car. "Nah, my car's here," he says before slamming the door. "Alright, you two stay safe, alright?" Dewey says as he rolls down his window. I nodded, waving goodbye as I walked up the pathway to my house.

Dewey stays parked outside my house as we walk back inside, probably waiting to make sure Stu leaves. "Just drive around the block once. Make sure he's not following you before you come back. Alright?" I say as I close the door. Stu nods as he grabs his car keys off the table that sat in the entryway. "I'll be back. Don't miss me too much," he says with a stupid grin on his lips as he leaves out the front door. As I walk upstairs to my room, all I can think about is what I've become, how much I liked that knife in my hands, and how much I anticipated the next time it'd be in them again.

Taglist

@pookie-snookie @heyspl4zi @drilethetoppat @ciuguapa @heraliveken @naito55 @katie-tibo @eve-rockin-blog @bitchybasmentcats @1ts-jeany @kitkatdreamsmpmcyt @slowly-becoming-like-draculaura @niteskysx @weaponxgames @vrsin @cupid3clipse @st-rgirl-forlife @confusedriftin @catastrophic-panda @carnagetrickster21 @kaiparkerwife @d0llykill @daddy-celine @yaoi1206 @hellraser1999 @altair10 @loveheart-123 @pearledreader @multifandom0-0 @a-bunny13 @kafkaesque-b1tch3s @lo1velyx @sweet-texas-girl @thatbabydeer @y-nk-live @eliveonsunshine @lyrablack71 @a-bbles @i-like-to-read08

[sqquidzz]

How would kny characters hurt you in an argument?

Includes: Tanjiro Kamado, Kyojuro Rengoku, Giyuu Tomioka, Sanemi Shinazugawa

A/N: Hello readers! This is an idea I got from a hc post on here, I'm not sure who made it but I give credit to them for this hc idea. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

KAMADO TANJIRO:

I feel like most arguments would start because of Tanjiro's protectiveness of his friends

He would probably start scolding you for doing something he thought was reckless while fighting a demon

Especially if Nezuko we're to be the one to save you and get injured, he would probably be pissed off

Tanjiro is the type of person to bottle his emotions up, so he really just snapped at you

He seems like the person who yells and cries during an argument

He would bring up the fact that you had jumped into danger without thinking, calling you selfish for thinking only about the battle and not of your friends

If someone had gotten injured protecting you, like Nezuko, she wouldn't be able to say anything since she was healing and unable to stick up for you

You would just be too shocked to even say anything to defend yourself, along with everyone else, since no one has seen Tanjiro like this before

Once he finishes, he simply excuses himself quietly, saying that he's tired from dealing with this

Bonus!

Zenitsu would immediately rush to your side to comfort you as tears spilled down your cheeks

This would be especially hard if you had past problems with arguments and yelling

RENGOKU KYOJURO:

Now Rengoku seems like a type of person to be less of a yelling type at the beginning, but slowly builds up his anger to the point that he starts yelling

Usually the arguments are about how Shinjuro treats Rengoku and Senjuro, with Rengoku insisting that he can convince his father to be better

You try to tell him that Rengoku should ask for help to deal with his father, but Rengoku stubbornly disagrees

His demeanor during arguments is different, his eyes looking darker and it seems like he loses his friendly glow

When Rengoku argues back, he usually uses something your sensitive about, like if you had a bad relationship with your parents

He would claims that he's at least trying to fix his relationship with his dad, hitting you hard and causing you to go speechless

rengoku usually just stomps away from the fight when he's done saying his mind, leaving you teary eyes and with a broken heart

TOMIOKA GIYUU:

Giyuu always wants to avoid arguing as much as possible, always shutting you down when you want to talk about some problems

This causes you to get frustrated and start bombarding him with questions, like why is he avoiding their problems

Giyuu seems like the type of person to talk more than yell, but his voice is still strained as if he's holding back from yelling at you

Giyuu knows exactly where to hit you to make it hurt, taunting you about problems that you could never solve

His words would go to the point that he makes you burst out crying and run out of the room

He immediately regrets whatever he said in the argument, and ends up going to bed alone, covering himself in the sheets as tears of regret slide down his face

Bonus!

Giyuu wouldn't be able to face you for a few days after the a t in fear of hurting you again with his words

It takes a lot of reassurance from you to get him outside again

SHINAZUGAWA SANEMI:

Sanemi is the type of dude yo go all out during arguments, yelling and screaming at you, even sometimes going as far as you throw things into the ground in rage

You both seem like you're at each other's necks, not backing down from proving your side right

Sanemi seems like the type of person to call you degrading names, such as coward, selfish, etc.

You try to stay calm at first, but you have yo resort to yelling to get your point across

Sanemi is usually arguing to you about staying out of his and Genya's relationship, saying that it is non of your business

You end up running out of breath before he does, simply listening to him yell at you for a few more minutes before he storms out the room and slams the door

By the time he's gone, tears are already streaming down your face, breathless and tired from screaming your lungs out as you collapse to your knees, sobbing

[with-my-calamitous-love]

SHOTGUN SHOT THROUGH THE HEART / CAN'T DRIVE PAST THE PLACES WE USED TO GO TO

keigo x reader x touya

part 2/4, part 1 here

the day of touya’s supposed arrest was the day you almost ended it all. a familiar winged hero comes to your rescue. olivia rodrigo mentioned!

inspired by drivers license + getaway car

today was enough to kill you.

4:26 am. your eyes open with no time for dreary morning exhaustion. his arms feel especially warm that morning, making it all the more harder to pry yourself away from him. in the end, it would be two broken hearts, and 4 hands bloody.

what kills you is how peaceful he looks. how touya, a man who had fire inside his heart, felt some semblance of comfort when he laid next to you. you prayed he was dreaming, dreaming of something better than this.

you pack throw your keys and what little cash there is left into the purse he stole for you. your as quiet as possible, not necessarily to conceal your movement, but rather your cries. you don't want to do this. you want to go there, and lay with your favorite arsonist. you want to lay there and love him into the world catches up with you. but you fucking can't.

and the worst part is, he's watching you.

he could stand up. he could yell, and demand to know what's going on. he could burn you to a crisp or pull you into his arms. he could promise you forever or break your heart more as you slowly twist the doorknob open.

he hated the fact that he was suspicious about you, but its god's cruelest joke that that gut feeling is somehow always right. he doesn't what exactly is going down, but he knows you're not coming back. his hearts not pure, far from it, but it still hurts him watching you leave. you turned into the one thing he wished you never would be.

but he's quiet. because deep down, somewhere deep in his heart, he knew this would happen eventually. he can't find it in himself to blame you. he blames himself for thinking you wouldn't.

so with a gentle, silent sigh, he lets you go.

just because someone expects betrayal doesn't mean they can't cry when it happens.

you breathe again once you finally reach the car, ducking past the sirens, officers and god damn heroes that are waiting outside the hotel. many of them, the figures you see on t.v and on magazines attempt to acknowledge you, to thank you for your efforts, but your oxygen is running out. you slam the door shut behind you and speed off into the early dusk of the morning.

red lights and stop signs become nothing but a blur as shaky sobs take over your lungs. your grip on the steering wheel loosens as you see his face in the rearview. your feet on the dashboard, laughing at crude jokes overtaking the sounds of traffic. you pray that he'll forgive you, though its useless.

by now, they've broken into the room.

by now, they've got him on his knees.

by know, he realizes just why you left so soon.

you drive alone, despite the various honks and sirens that become more and more evident at your recklessness. suddenly, you see him everywhere- sidewalks, car reflections, alleyways and deeply embedded in the crevices of your heart.

you said forever, and now you drove the getaway car.

when keigo calls you, you answer with a shaky huff as his voice comes through the receiver. he updates you on everything, much to your dismay.

"what do you mean you guys didn't arrest him!? what the fuck happened there?!" you scream.

your ex-fiance's voice is filled with guilt as he explains everything. "it... was a disaster. we underestimated him. he was unstoppable, angrier than i've ever seen him. and when i told him you were the one who gave up his location..."

your heart may as well have stopped when he said that.

"you... told him...?"

the blonde winces at the tone in your voice, realizing his slip up. for a hero that was so used to lying, being calculated and playing a role that wasn't for him, he struggled to hide the most of painful of truths to you.

"shit, i'm... fuck, i'm sorry, babe. it just slipped out." the coward in every man, and evidently in keigo, tries to cover up what he revealed about you. it obviously doesn't work.

a shaky, sob-filled scream escapes your throat as you dangerously speed through the traffic and onto the bridge connecting your now abandoned hiding spot to the city. other drivers are understandably honking at you, flipping you off and asking who the hell granted you your license. you're too distraught to care, seeing as the guilt of turning touya in overtakes you.

you did the right thing, and it tore your heart apart at the seems.

keigo is still on the phone with you, keeping note of the sirens and cars he hears from your end. he quickly tries to diffuse the situation before anything else happens. "[y/n], love, i'm gonna need you to pull over." he cautions. "i'll come to you."

"i'm fine." you lie, not wanting him to see you like this. you stare at the watery depths below, reasoning with yourself not to do anything rash. just make it back to your apartment, wrap yourself up in your bedsheets and lay there until this is all over.

keigo sees right through this, as if sensing your inner turmoil (if it wasn't already blatantly obvious.) he begs you just to pull over, to stop driving in the state your in, and just let him come to you. let him make sure you come out of this alive. its what he wants, and its probably what touya wants, too.

you grit your teeth at his pleas, too heartbroken to think rationally right now. you're a reckless, ticking time bomb, and you all know it. "god, i know you care about me, kei. i know you still have feelings for me."

he's silent on the other end of the phone. his heart clenches, wincing at your harshness. he was never trying to hide how he never fully got over you, even after you professed your love for the man you ran away with. somehow, you still had that hold on his heartstrings.

"yeah, well, so what if do? what difference does it make i still don't want you to kill yourself."

his hand shakes as he holds the phone in his hand, his worry growing more and more apparent with each passing second.

"you made me betray the person i loved so much, maybe as much as i loved you."

theres a heavy silence that hangs over the call screen. its wrong to blame keigo for what happened. either way, touya was still a dangerous villain who had to be stopped. all keigo did was open your eyes to the truth. probably because he's a hero, and thats what heroes do, but also because he loves you, and doesn't want to see your heartbreak over a criminal.

but its that last part that makes keigo's heart sink to his stomach. the idea that the amount of love you had for him was equivalent to the love you had for touya.

even after the end of your breakup, he still wished the best for you. he wished for you to be happy, just not happier than how you were with him. as selfish as that is.

his heart aches, the pain of what you're going through beginning to creep up on him too. he o desperately wants to tell you that everything will be okay, that he'll be your hero and take all your hurt away, but in that regard? he's powerless.

"keigo, i-"

he listens, hoping you'll finish your sentence. but you don't, even after he yells after you. "what? [y/n], what? hey!?"

his heart stops in his chest as a loud crash resonates over your end, followed by honking, screaming, and worst of all, the sound of something splashing into the watery depths below. what scares him the most is what he doesn't know. are you okay? can he still save you in time?

when the line goes dead, he quicky takes off, setting out to find you before its too late.

✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚

theres an overwhelming cold feeling that takes you. you're oddly relaxed, despite the dull ache that erupts in your head. you aren't sure whats happening fully, your memories a messy haze. right now, nothing else matters as your body floats through the cold state of purgatory.

theres suddenly a sharp pain on your chest, followed by a desperate plea you can’t quite discern. theres a familiar taste on your lips, one that speaks love to you. that resounding pressure on your chest makes your heart thump, causing memories to suddenly replay in your mind like a film screen. memories with someone you loved.

you and keigo had met through some friend you can’t really remember. two deep in chardonnay, and you were the only one that guessed his antics during charades. the pounding of your heart continues as you recall the memory. you went from one kiss to getting married in just the span of a few months.

first loves are special like that.

he found pieces of you in every song he listened to, became utterly addicted to smell of your perfume and your bare shoulder in the morning. he loved your laughter, the way your hands fit in his. he loved that you saw him, even in the moments he could barely recognize himself.

the thing about first love, however, is that its also your first loss.

fears of trapping you in a marriage, the same one he had seen growing up, became all the more evident for the hero. he didn’t want to hold you down, to chain you to him when the two of you were meant to fly freely, happily. he felt like you deserved to love someone else.

and eventually, you did. though he never expected the firstborn son turned villain you ran off with.

but as keigo performs cpr on you, begging you to come back to life, he pleads with the sky. with anyone who might hear him, or whoever was trying to take you away from this world.

if it meant you’d start breathing again, he’d fly up to the clouds and catch lightning in a bottle. if it meant you’d open your eyes, he’d fix every last mistake he ever made. if it meant you’d love him again… well, he’d deal with the truth of that if it meant you’d simply live again.

he almost gives up, looking down at his own, wet gloved hands as he comes to terms with the fact that his attempts may be futile. you were injured in the crash, losing blood from cuts and bruises. on top of that, you had drowned, the cruel, murky depths of the sea taking you away.

he’s already covered in water, but a singular tear drop runs down his eye.

your hearts beating, fuelled purely by the love you’ve gotten to experience. you see two people- the man who brought you back to life, and the one that felt like the best way to die.

before you can discern who is who, your heart catches up with your lungs, taking a desperate gasp of air. you immediately turn to your side, ignoring the cuts on your body in order to turn over and cough out the water. its salty and stings your throat, your vision hazy and your body shivering.

“breathe.” a voice commands you, rubbing circles on your back. keigo sighs in relief, pulling you into his lap. you cling like the life buoy you would have needed just a couple of minutes ago.

you don’t even realizing you’re still crying, not until the blonde strokes your cheeks free from the tears. he tilts your head up so he can look at you.

“you were dead a minute ago.” he says, his usual nonchalant behaviour replaced by a rare glimmer of worry. you were the only person that pulled those feelings out of him, anyway.

your throat sings of salt, body aching from the cold and the blood loss. “yeah, well… you’re not gonna get rid of me that easily.” you choke out.

he almost laughs, opting to pull you into a tight hug. with as much strength, though theres not much, you embrace him back. yes, you’re still mad. yes, you’re still heartbroken. but he somehow made your tortured heart beat once more.

he wraps his coat around you, handing you off to the paramedics. he promises to meet you in the hospital after he’s done helping other survivors, sending you off with a tender kiss to your forehead. keigo looks back, seeing the accident that left you dead for a moment.

touya, from afar, is watching too.

the look on his face is something you can’t quite decipher. he’s mad as hell you sold him out, especially at the behest of hawks- but something dragged him to the scene of the accident. something in him had to know you’d be okay.

he watches as the ambulance takes you away, before turning away and leaving the scene.

tags 🐚

@whenanafallsinlove @satirediary @bbluefllame @crushmeeren (aka all the people that would probably choose touya’s life over a thousand peoples 😭 cuz me too)

[scftpcws]

Naaaah because my boy Ollie is a complete freak! That dude would be clingy and rough AF and I'm here for it. Please please! 🥺

Warning! MDNI18+ some filthy ass shit. and terrible writing please read at your own risk.

smut under the cut 💋

i have been deathly absent for a while but i am here to say… yes. yes the fuck he would be a freak because have you SEEN him. he is a dangerous individual.

i feel like he would have a lot if repressed desires that he would keep from you. he wouldn’t even tell Felix about them, because when has he ever told anyone the truth??

he debated a few times whether or not he should tell you the depraved things he wanted from the two of you’s sex life, but every time he got close he backed out because he didn’t want to weird you out or worse, scare you away.

I feel like he would totally be into some predator x prey dynamic type stuff. he isn’t sure why he’s into it, maybe its the thrill if chasing you through the Maze or giving you 30 seconds to find a hiding space in Saltburn Estate, and spending a dreadful amount of time “trying” to find you, despite knowing exactly where you are every time. he knows you, knows your mind. of course he does, he spent months, possibly years (depending on how long you managed to evade his addictive personality) dissecting that pretty little brain of yours so that he knew every thought process, every detail. he is obsessed with you and that definitely transfers into the way he fucks you.

he’s slow at first. its a mind game, he wants you to beg for him and he knows that by the end of the night you will, regardless of how defiant you may be. I feel like because of this, he may also be into CNC. obviously you two would consent to it and make a list of rules and things that were okay and not okay. he would abide by all of these rules, because again, he respects your boundaries and doesn’t want you to leave him. he would fuck you nice and slow until your fussy and whining for him to go faster, to fuck you harder.

“What was that little lamb? speak up for me.” he would whisper sweetly into your ear, thrusting hard just once into you, watching the way your eyes toll back into your head. “I need it Ollie.” you whine, tears falling from your eyes in frustration.

“Need what love? Do i look like a mind reader? tell me what you want and you can have it.” he slowly begins to rub your clit in gentle and agonising circles. “I want you to fuck me.” you were breathless and almost delerious with pleasure.

“Want?” “ Oh honey, I thought you needed it? What, you dont need me anymore, hmm? don’t need to feel my love for you? don’t need to feel me break you?” he ask, his once languid thrust coming to a halt. You whine without restraint, cursing him with your teeth clenched dur to the sudden lack if pleasure.

“Tell me you crave me. Tell me you need me, how you can’t breathe without me, how im everything you need. Tell me.” he says, his lips against your ear, his hand round your throat grip tightened, causing your breathing to strain.

“I need you! Please i need to feel you. only you can fuck me this good, please Ollie. make me feel better, i need you to make me feel better…please.” the last please was a desperate whine, so pathetic Ollie had to throw his head back to avoid your soft and innocent gaze. you trailed you hand up to his neck to pull him closer to you, your gaze so piercing and unavoidable that he almost came, his thick cock unmoving in your tight cunt.

“Please Sir.”

oh that one did it. His pace was instantly bruising, so violent that if you didn’t know the extent of his love, you might have thought he wanted you dead. you almost didn’t recognise him. he was like a wild animal, his only aim to fuck you into oblivion.

he mumbled a mix of incoherent praise and degrading comments as your throat became hoarse from your scream like moans. the crying for him to slow down only spurred him on, causing him to shove his fingers in you mouth to dampen your onslaught of noises.

he fuck you dangerously for what could have been hours. you lost count of how many times you came around him. your body felling fuzzy and limp. seeing you so braindead for him had him unleashing what quite easily could have been his 7th load of the night. he watched as a dumb, lopsided grin etched its way into your lips as you felt the warmth of his cum flood your cunt once more.

“look at you so pretty for me, my pretty little lamb.”

well… im back.. i think..

[gojoswhitebabydolllashes]

Let death be kinder than any x-men

Logan howlett x reader

---

ERRRRM I WOULD SAY DEADPOOL AND WOLVERINE SPOILERS BUT WERE IN DAYS OF FUTURE PAST🦅😃

-

Warnings: I still don't know 😭 the reader makes a massive mistake. Idek if this is how xaviers powers work but wtv. Major Canon divergence. 🎶 represents when Charles is talking to reader in their head.

-

I know that sometimes I ask for too much sometimes. And I think today I did. It really does depend on how you define mistakes.

I knew Charles would help me. How did I know that the 21 year old version of my old professor 60 years in the future would help me? Because I just knew Charles Xavier like that.

"You want me to what?" He scratched his jaw.

"I want you to get inside logan's head and tell me what he's thinking of," I gulped and leant against the wall.

I could only tell that this would have consequences beyond my understanding. Beyond perhaps what anyone could really understand.

"I can try. I would ask why you need this, but I already know," he grinned with his lips high to his nose.

I scoffed a laugh and looked out into the city through the trees. Dark lights and fireflies. Night-time and fireworks. Onyx that encased sparks of all colours.

"So you'll help me?"

"Of course I will. What else do have to do in this damn world?"

-

🧠

There was this one time at the mansion when I punched Scott summers in the mouth for telling Logan he was a coward. I let him drip blood on the floor and make noises of pain as he held his painful jaw that would be bruised and red by tomorrow.

"Don't you ever fucking say that shit again"

-

It was a warm night, though still cool enough for a bonfire. Even though we were supposed to be in the middle of a fight with the sister of the man, I was sitting beside and saving the other mutants, we had collectively agreed, Wade and I, that a night to sit here wouldn't hurt. And convincing Logan was not easy, but he pulled through with an offer of whiskey.

After a while, Wade passed out, and Charles was minding his own business on the grass, when we asked what he was up to he replied 'I'm on the phone' but he had no phone in sight, and it took Logan a few seconds to realise.

I didn't know what to say to Logan. I didn't feel like saying anything or if anything would even work. He probably doesn't want to say anything either. After our altercation in the void, I didn't know what the fuck was going on anymore. I wanted to ask about it, but I was afraid his answer would be exactly as I thought.

"I didn't mean it" he said suddenly "what I said in the void, I didn't mean it"

It had genuinely shook me that he was first to bring it up.

"Oh," I said. "I was gonna ask you what happened, but I wasn't sure if anytime was going to be right"

Logan chuckled. For an unknown reason, he just did and sipped his drink. "Anytime after I die is perfect for these kinds of things"

I tried to smile and act like I was cool but in reality I was dying inside. I was screaming kicking and crying and throwing up and tearing adamantium bars off jail cells.

"I don't know what came over me," he admitted. "The truth is in my universe my wife was experimented on by scientists. Fuckin mad men"

I couldn't tell in the light, mostly because I wasn't looking at him but I could hear it. He started to tear up. I could hear the tightness in his throat, the strain on his voice.

"And-" He stuttered.

"And do you know what the worst part is?"

I don't.

I should. I feel like I should. But I shouldn't. I couldn't. I didn't want to know. Or did I?

🎶 "You do"

"What's the worst part Logan?"

"They did it right in front of me. Right in fuckin front of me!" He lurched forward and slashed one of the trees, causing it to fall in threes.

He panted. Growled. Boiled with rage that set the ground alight in metaphorical fire. Raging flames, like wildfire. Upset and grief that acted fuel.

"It's not your fault, logan" I said softly

"BUT IT IS!" He yelled back at me.

He put his claws away and sighed, looking away for a moment to catch his breath "I'm sorry"

"It's alright" I replied

Logan rubbed his face "Let's call it a truce. I swear I won't try to turn you into shredded meat again" he held out his hand.

"Sure. No shredded meat" I put my hand in his, shaking it.

They were fucking hairy and calloused. And heavy. Maybe the world's manliest hands. And veiniest. Fuck what am I doing?

"No shredded meat" he repeated

And we both laughed

[tunamayojazz]

Love your art, any Toge/Yuuta fanfic recommendations? Thanks so much!!

hi!! thank you so much...🥺🩷🩷 and i am SO glad you asked this. i have so many!! here are the ones i read/reread more recently along with some of the tags. tried to make every rec here different from each other hehe have fun reading!!! can't help it (if you look like an angel) by glimmiks (12.4k)

tags: college au, friends to lovers, mutual pining, IKEA

THIS WAS SO FUN TO READ PLEASEEEE i absolutely love college aus so much. and you just know the 2nd years would be the most fun and chaotic as college students. their dynamic is just chefs KISS, and it's written so well here. the mutual pining in here is truly a 10-course meal and i always go back for another round.

i'm alright if you're alright by anonymous (14.2k)

tags: spoilers up to ch146, fluff, hurt/comfort, injury recovery, fix-it, love confessions, pining

post-shibuya fic excellence. i always have such a great time reading this like inuokkos really do eat so well in this fandom. yuta pining is always so great to read like he is Longingly thinking about toge at all times im cry

Magnificently Cursed by diggingupthegrave (91.2k)

tags: dark academia, magic au, magic school au, slow burn, angst, mutual pining

i will always always recommend diggingupthegrave fics. they are easily my favorite inuokko writer pls you have to read all their inuokko fics...i saved this particular one of theirs to read for much later bc i knew it was going to change my life (7 chapters ok) and boy did it do exactly that. the way they implemented canon elements into a magic setting was so so brillaint and i savored every bit of it.

Beat the Turtle Drum by CasuallyScreaming (7.4k) tags: major character death, post-shibuya incident arc, angst, minimal comfort, no shibuya spoilers read this before sleeping the other night and honestly how i managed to still fall asleep after was my body trying to protect me from full out bawling and having a mental breakdown...i don't think i've read a lot of MCD inuokko but god this one shook me to my core. almost like the feeling of loss and grief were bleeding through my phone screen. so well written and while it's definitely mostly painful, the ending....well you'll find out :')

a special occasion by Cheshire (2.5k) tags: idiots in love, established relationship, first dates this was so so cute...!!!!!!! panda: but aren't you two already dating? yuta: well yes! no. sorta, kinda. super cozy and fluffy read!!

is this how every day begins? by mitgi (5.4k) tags: roommates, living together, mutual pining, hurt/comfort, angst i will always love me a roommate au. this fic was such a lovely read and i'm actually going to reread this right after i finish writing this! there's so much to explore in inuokko's relationship and also when it's in different settings. every time i think about how the actual source material are literal crumbs, i'm just even more amazed by how writers are able to draw out the most of what info we have and write their mannerisms so well. it all feels right and so WARM UOGHHHHH

haunted by sieling_fan (3.3k)

tags: pining, hurt/comfort, canon typical angst, character study

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

you showed up just in time by diggingupthegrave (14.6k)

tags: time travel, friends to lovers, mutual pining, hurt/comfort, slight age gap

another diggingupthegrave fic that had me crying screaming shaking throwing up because god. this was so so good. the build up had me at the edge of my seat bc like oh my god what happened? what's happening?? why is this like that? @#$%^&*()_!!!!!!!!!!!!! and when it's all pieced together? oh it ended me. read this again and again for DAYS you would think i was researching it for a thesis or something. take your time reading this btw like im so serious.

okie that's all for me from now, i have so many more to rec honestly....sending out 100000000000 hearts to inuokko writers you are my roman empire....

[heyidkyay]

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Twenty

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way? 

Authors Note: TWENTY. I actually can't believe it. And back with another longer update! Lotssss going on here ngl, but hoping you enjoy it xx

Warnings: Talks of a withdrawal experience and a very very brief mention of suicidal thoughts (past tense)

> Last update: look back here if you'd like!

Masterlist

Matty waited and waited for it to come out. 

For someone to mention it. For the media to catch wind or for the story to blow. He waited and waited, but nothing.

Liar. Liar. Liar.

It was driving him mad.

The reminder echoed in the farthest parts of his mind almost constantly and clouded his every thought.

And to only make matters worse, Teddy had lied too.

And what the fuck kind of man did that make him, hey? What sort of deranged idiot made such promises to a kid? I won’t tell, he’d said. He’d sworn it. 

He’d go back and scream at himself now, if he only could. But life didn’t fucking work that way, did it? And he had never been any good at the whole not fucking up part. He was selfish in that regard.

He could go ahead and blame this whole mess all on just wanting to soothe Teddy, to stop him from crying. Or the hope to simply leave what had happened behind them in a desperate attempt not to hurt her anymore than he already had.

But in the end, it all came down to his own narcissistic needs. It was what made the circle, wasn’t it?

“Matty?”

Matty’s head whipped so hard left that he winced at the slight pull he felt in his neck, turning away from where he’d been staring aimlessly into the mirror. Mouse was stood there, only an arms length away, wearing an apologetic smile on her face. 

Matty wanted to reach out, to touch. To say that he was sorry. But he knew that she’d only chuckle at him in return, all fond and sweet, and then ask him why. 

What have you got to be sorry for, Matty?

God, his heart hurt with it all. It hurt. It hurt.

Fuck did it hurt.

“Babe, you alright?”

He blinked, hard, and then, “Yeah, just, nervous you know?”

She chuckled at him. Exactly like he said she would. All fond and sweet. Lovely, like her.

“Nervous?” Squeaks repeated with one of those infamous smiles of hers, the kind that further stretched the scar going across the bridge of her nose and lit up her entire face.

Matty swallowed thickly at the sight but returned the smile all the same. It killed him, it really did, but he couldn’t say anything about it now. It had been days since it all happened and telling her of it would only hurt her more, he knew that. He knew it. And besides, no one had said a word. No one had mentioned it. So this was his secret to keep, and every relationship had those, didn’t they? His secret- 

And Teddy’s.

At the thought, Matty had to struggle not to throw up what little lined his stomach. 

Mouse stepped forward then, closing that distance between them to finger the collar of the polo he’d chosen only twenty minutes earlier, sorting out the kink he’d made in it when he’d tugged the thing on. 

“Can you blame me?” He finally spoke, gazing down at her now, at the curve of her mouth and the freckles that dotted her right cheek. Can you blame me? He wanted to ask her again, only for an entirely different reason.

She just chuckled once more, the soft sound of it danced in the little space shared between them. “You’ve already met.”

He widened his eyes in very real alarm. “You bein’ serious?”

That laugh again.

“Honestly, Matty. I get why you’re nervous, but it's just Adi.” She patted the collar down flat, hand slipping away to rest on his chest so that she could peer up at him. His own hands went to her hips almost unconsciously and he took a deep breath.

“It’s Finn, too.”

Finn. That had been eating away at him as well, the whole fact that Squeaks had gone out of her way to set up this little meeting for them. So that he could finally meet the man who’d been her best mate since uni and who had basically helped her raise Teddy. 

Typically- i.e. before rehab- he’d deal with a situation like this with a quick hit, a rub of the gums or just a line in the loo to get his head to work the way he wanted it to. So that he wouldn't have to deal with all the emotions that always seemed to want to fuck him over. But he couldn’t do that. Knew he wouldn’t. Didn’t stop the fucking itch though, did it.

“Yes, it’s Finn too.” Matty tuned back in at the sound of her somewhat amused voice, he found that she was pursuing her mouth at him to hide her growing grin. “But it’s just that, just Finn. You don’t have to stress. Honestly, the most you’ll get is a hard glare or a few pushy questions, but then he’ll be sound. Love you even.”

Love.

Matty’s mind lingered on the word for a moment, but she was smiling now, looking up at him with those eyes of hers. He lifted a hand to stroke along the edge of her cheek, trailing a thumb over a faint pink line that was covered up slightly by makeup, and wondered what she would say if he just told her now.

“I find that hard to believe,” He answered instead, watching the movement his hand made before his eyes flickered back to meet hers, “People either love me or hate me, you see.”

“Oh, is that so?” Squeaks laughed, the hand not resting on his chest moving to circle his wrist. “Bit egotistical of you to assume you mean that much to everyone you meet. I mean, I doubt the postman gives you a second thought, lovely.”

Matty reeled his head back a tad with that, pursing his lips at her words even though he loved it when she teased him like this. “You not heard any of my songs?”

He was gifted an airy snort in return and she then patted his chest before stepping away. Matty watched on as his hand slipped from her cheek. 

“I have, which is why I’m not too surprised that you’ve worked yourself up about this so much.” He saw her smirk and then she tutted at him, “Always one for theatrics, Matthew.”

He lunged then in a playful attempt to grab at her, but she jumped away with a gleeful laugh and a second to spare, scurrying back into the living room before his fingers could capture the t-shirt she’d chosen to wear- a vintage band tee, one of his he reminded himself.

“We’re off soon,” She called out not a second later, leaving him standing there alone in the hallway once more, “So make sure you’re ready to leave, your highness!”

Matty huffed a small laugh and then took a deep breath. He could do this, if not for himself then for her.

–

As expected, Finn did give him a hard time. 

The pair of them had wandered into the studio not long after Squeaks had dropped Teddy off at nursery, Matty waiting in the car this time around so as to not be seen, and found Adi already there with the mysterious Finn lounging on the settee, looking so at home. 

He was a good looking guy, Matty had noticed that first. Rugged and built a bit like that of a rugby player. He had a beard as full as the hair on his head, a rival to Ross’s own, and was far from what Matty had been first expecting in truth. 

When Squeaks had said that the guy was an artist, he’d automatically pictured some lanky fella, maybe with wired frames or a ponytail. But Finn was nothing of the sort, in fact he might’ve been the total opposite, and that made meeting him all the more unnerving. Because Matty hadn’t quite prepared for this.

Finn had a good few inches on him too, which was hard to miss and made it that much harder for Matty to not be as intimated as he wanted to be. A kick to that old ego of his Squeaks had mentioned earlier, but Matty could admit to feeling a bit out of his league amongst the guy, if only to himself.

The meeting had started off with the usual ‘you hurt her, I’ll hurt you’ warning, then trailed onto simple introduction and conversation starters. But Matty was well aware of these carefully arranged stares that never seemed to stray as time ticked on, which put him on edge and had him clenching down on his jaw hard enough to keep from biting at the bloke.

But the looks had ebbed slowly. Finn relaxed, bit by bit. And Matty? Matty tried his fucking hardest to make himself more than likeable. He attempted to mention Finn’s work and his own interest in art, which hadn’t gone down as well as he’d liked, he’d admit. So he’d quickly made do and switched tactics, asking him if he was interested in football at all, but of course the guy just had to be a sodding Sunderland supporter. As if Matty hadn’t already been pulling at teeth. 

It was just after that though, that Finn took the opportunity to finally seek a change in pace, and Matty had honest to God been thankful for the sudden interest Finn took in him, the man leaning forward in his seat ever so slightly and looking as though he wanted to ask him a question. 

And he did, only, it was one Matty hadn’t exactly been expecting so soon.

“So, you really clean then?”

Matty didn’t think he’d ever forget the way the entire room fell silent at that.

Finn’s voice was gruff, northern much like his own but more so. His words pooled out of his mouth so clumped together but low enough that his tone could be mistaken for soft, though only if you were stupid enough not to notice the harsh grunt behind them. 

Matty blinked back at him, honestly not at all ashamed to admit that the question had caught him off guard. Though, maybe he should’ve been expecting it. It was a question he’d come to hear as often as ‘How’re you?’ since he’d gotten out of his first stint in rehab. 

But still, now? In a space he’d come to feel a comfort in, around people he’d grown so close to? It made him feel like an imposter. Like he was just playing pretend here until everything in his life went tits up again.

“Finn, what the fuck?”

Pulling his gaze away, Matty turned to find Squeaks glaring at her mate, who was still sat on the settee, looking perfectly content with it all.

“You being serious?” She continued on, having paused her conversation with Adi entirely to level Finn with a stare that made even Matty nervous, “Where’d you get off on asking him that? Quite rightly, I don't think it’s any of your business.”

“Like fuck, it isn’t. He’s dating you, in’t he?” Finn immediately shot back at her and Matty watched on as Adi mirrored his exact movements, head rolling back over to where Finn met Mouse’s glare head on with one of his own. Only, his wasn’t fueled by anger, instead a stern sort of seriousness Matty had only ever really witnessed as a kid on his Grandad, who’d been a proud and stubborn man.

Mouse scoffed and shook her head at him, “Exactly, he’s dating me. Last time I checked, you weren’t included in that description.”

“I’m your mate, Mouse.” The man was quick to defend, looking hurt now. “It’s my job to look out for you, and I don’t care if that pisses you off. The shit I’ve heard about him ain't at all good and, in truth, I entertained all of it in the beginning, but I never actually once thought you’d end up fucking him.”

Another eerie silence wreaked havoc on the unsteady atmosphere.

“What’s that meant to mean?”

She was calm now, none of that revving rage spurring her voice on like it had done just moments earlier. Matty didn’t know how this would end, only that he’d never heard her speak like that in all the time she’d known him.

“What’s it meant to- what do you think it means! Exactly that.” Finn fired back at her, steeling his already hardened eyes, “You were getting back out there, flirting and texting. Just having a fuckin’ good time for once! And that was all nice and well, but now you tell me you’re actually with him? That you're making a go of it?” He barked out a sharp laugh, “What happens when he fucks everything up and uses again? You planning to be there for him when it all falls down around you? ‘Cause it’s only a matter of time, Mouse. Let me tell you.”

That hit. Hard.

Enough so that Matty surprised even himself at the suddenness of his voice, harsh but steady in the cautious quiet that had engulfed them all and splintering the growing rift between the two friends. “Where do you get off on saying that then?”

He met the other man’s eyes and noted the displeasure which swam in them.

“Nah, honestly ‘cause I’d really like to know. You have no idea what the fuck I’ve done, what I’ve been through, only what you’ve seen in the media. Yeah?” Matty barrelled on, pushing forward in his seat so that he could rest his forearms on the tops of his knees, actively trying not to show just how much the bloke’s assumptions had hindered him. “So go on then, tell me. Tell me what you’ve worked out about me in the past half hour that you’ve had to actually get to know me.”

Matty received a mirthless snuff in return, along with a slight shake of head, “Not much to add that I haven’t already said.”

Matty licked at his lower lip then because he knew if he didn’t take a second to think he’d lash out, fuck things up more than they already had been. After, he lifted his chin up at the other man in a slow nod.

“Right, yeah, because I haven’t just sat here making an arse out of myself, trying to find some common ground with you.” He gave a short humourless laugh that seemed to flood the studio, “But I'm gonna remind you of something, I’m only here for her, and her alone. So you can save all your jokes and your tragic fucking questions, alright? Because it’s one thing to actually want to know for her wellbeing, and even Teddy’s fucking safety. But to throw it in my face is another fucking thing, mate.”

Matty stood up at that, on shaky legs yes, but who did he have to fucking admit that to? Then patted down his pockets in search of a fucking smoke, shifting past the too large coffee table in the suddenly too small room to make his exit. 

He took another small breath though, a much needed one in fact, when he passed by Squeaks, who was sat there looking so angry and lost and humiliated, and didn’t even have to force himself to give her a pained sort of smile as he did. He didn’t dare touch her though, not sure if she’d want it, but did say, “I’ll be outside.”

She swallowed thickly in turn, Matty saw the motion of it as her throat bobbed and she turned to look up into his eyes. He was quick to look away, hands itching for something to hit, to cling to. 

The steel staircase was a welcome sight, even with their too many flights, but the kerbed sidestreet sat beyond it was one better. Matty all but gasped for breath the second he pushed through the heavy door, eager to relieve the ache crushing his lungs and burning a hole in his chest.

Childishly he kicked out some of that restrained aggression on the brick wall of the building a second later, revelling in the ringing pain which radiated up through his foot and to his leg, then did so again until he calmed enough to yank his pack from his jacket pocket and fall against it.

The fuck did the twat get off on saying shit like that to him? A stranger to boot. Fair enough, think it all you like, wouldn’t affect him then, he could honestly give less of a shit, but to his face? That was fucking brave. Tactless. 

Matty scoffed at the whirlwind of thoughts his mind was made up of, teeth cutting into the tip of his tongue as he scraped the muscle along their ridged edge.

He couldn’t help but linger on Finn’s words though, wondering if that really was all that he was good for. A fun time, or a quick line. Some faceless person on a drunken one night stand, or the famous singer some fan was hoping to bag. 

Matty had his phone in hand and his contact list pulled up before he could even realise it, the gesture second nature to him now. Something goes wrong? Call the closest dealer. That was the way it went, the way it had always gone.

But he couldn’t, not this time. He’d said he’d stick with it, he said he would. And there was still a chance. There was still a shitty piece of hope that had managed to lodge its way inside his chest telling him that Squeaks could still stick around, wasn’t there?

He laughed to himself at the mere idea of it. At how stupid he must’ve seemed, back there. To a man who’d probably never had to feel the mind numbing shakes of withdrawal or a paranoia that stretched a mile long. Who’d never been forced to deal with hallucinations that made you borderline suicidal, or an imminent need to peel the skin from off your bones.

Matty felt sick with it all. Hands trembling with the anger and anxiety he felt as he raised them up towards his face to light his fag.

He was fucking trying.

God, was he trying. And yet, people still asked for more than that. 

Where the fuck did Finn get off on cornering him like some little kid anyway? On looking down on him like some junkie sprawled out on a slab step up on the high street?

It fucking angered him, filled him with this senseless rage and evident misery that everything would soon come crushing down around him.

Things were too good to be true.

He knew that fact like he knew his own face.

It was only after he’d managed to dwindle his fag right down to the very nub that Matty realised he’d been sat on the kerb, head hanging between his knees, whilst the rest of the world had seemingly carried on around him, none the wiser to him and his many issues. He only seemed to register it though when the familiar sound of the studio’s heavy door squeaked open, hinges piercing down the hushed sidestreet. 

She joined him there on the pavement after a moment's hesitation, a moment he wouldn’t dare admit gnawed at his heart.

“I want to say sorry for Finn, but I know you wouldn’t care much for that.”

Matty wanted to laugh at her opening, at least he could say that she knew him that much.

She merely sighed though when he kept quiet and revelled in the way her elbow brushed against the side of his arm, lighting up each nerve that laid there. “He claims he’s being protective, but even I knew he was acting like a prick.”

Matty just hummed, already drawing another cigarette from his battered box. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth though when she thieved one for herself.

“Honestly, I don’t know what the fuck to say.” She admitted after allowing him to light its end, which was something he appreciated, seeing as how he was in the same fucking boat with that. “I just, I don’t know. I wish he’d have voiced his concerns a bit better, or at least to me before I went and arranged this whole shit show.”

Matty chewed on the inside of his cheek, weighing her words as he took another drag. He let the smoke fester and fill his mouth, coating his tongue before he finally hummed once more.

Though it seemed like she’d already gotten sick of that. “That all I’m gonna get then, just a hm?”

It was his turn to sigh then and a swirl of grey escaped with it. 

“What do you want me to say, Mouse?”

She frowned, although he didn’t know exactly why, before pulling her attention down towards the gravel road. She shrugged the shoulder nearest to him and said, “That it didn’t bother you. That you know he’s just a prat who’s acting the big brother. That you don’t really believe a word he says is true.”

Matty turned to peer over at her then, cigarette hand resting on the knob of his knee, smouldering in the light breeze. “Then I’d be lying.”

But you’re already a liar, his head screamed. 

What’s one, or two more?

He looked away from her at that, nose suddenly stinging as his eyes began to itch. Then quickly took another drag. 

She shuffled closer, jeans scratching at the grit of the kerb beneath them, and he was only slightly surprised when she laid her head to rest on the curve of his arm. “Does it matter? What Finn thinks, or what anyone thinks?”

How could it not? He wanted to ask her.

“I don’t know, Squeaks.” He replied instead, noting how she smiled sadly before she raised her fag up to her mouth. 

“I’m happy, Matty. Happier than I’ve been in a long time.” She revealed to him, a quiet whisper catching on the wind. Matty could hear the honesty in her words, the kind that thawed at the emotional wall he’d been building between himself and the rest of the world since he were a kid. “Are you?”

And that was the punch that sent it all falling. 

Was he happy?

He thought so, maybe more than he’d ever truly been.

So he told her that, voice thick as a wall of broken bricks settled around him. And although he kept on looking straight, he took her hand in his, “Yeah. I am.”

—

The days that followed ‘Finn’s Fucked Up Fuck-Up’- as I’d come to dub it as- were rocky, to say the very least. 

Matty had pulled away from me slightly, claiming that he had studio time and album stuff to work on, whilst I was busy ignoring my best friend. Which was a rather hard task to do when you were so used to having a constant rapport with someone. 

In truth, the whole thing was eating me up inside, but I knew it would turn around sooner or later. Things couldn’t get worse than they already had. 

And I had to believe that. 

“You seem down, ma chérie.”

I picked at the corner edge of the settee. It was one of those odd days, where everything appeared so quiet and you were left with nothing much that was worth doing. 

Teddy was already at nursery, Matty had texted to say that he was with Jamie, and Adi had gone to see her Grandmother. 

It had been a long while since I’d not had a day packed full of work, even my email box sat strangely empty. Which had left me on the sofa with fuck all to do until I had to go a pick up Teds again. But then I’d received a call from my mum.

“Non, not down. Just, things are a bit hectic at the moment.” I replied to her, smiling in the hopes that it would somehow ease all her worries, but that frown she wore held fast.

“Parle-moi, je t'en prie.” She sighed, shaking her head at me, or rather the situation, “How can I help when you won’t talk to me?”

My mouth wrinkled as I cast my eyes about the rest of the room. I didn’t want to talk about it with her, or at all in truth. But she had a way of forcing things out of me and I knew that she’d see the situation for what it was, so I ended up relaying the last few weeks of my life to her and waited impatiently to see how she’d react.

I received only a soft hum from her at first, her attention focused on something above the camera for a long moment before it trailed back on over to me. “I don’t know much of him, this Matty of yours, ma Souris. You know I only read my newspaper each morning and steer clear of the web.” 

I smiled at that, the web, it reminded me of days back home and the route I’d had to walk to get a decent signal before she had finally agreed to fitting the wifi. She continued on though, none the wiser to the train my thoughts had wandered onto.

“He seemed to make you happy when I came to visit, and I witnessed how he was with Teddy. I knew then that he felt something for you, but you, you have always been so hard to read.” She tittered softly at that, smiling at me through a screen, and not for the first time did I wish that she wasn’t so far away. “It was in the kitchen though, that I realised you felt the same. Although, I don’t think you knew it.”

I rolled my eyes, the tiny beginnings of a smile playing on my lips. “We were friends.”

“Ah les amis!” She tutted, not daring to speak the English word as she waved my sorry attempt at a defence away, “You two were never just that, not really. I told you from the start, non? You were glowing, chérie. I knew it like the sun knows the sky, that he would be it for you.”

I swallowed heavily at the surety in her tone and then glanced away, fingers tightening around my phone.

“Souris, I adore Finn, you know that. But do not allow his words to mar what you feel. If this Matty feels the same way then he won’t let it either. Things will work out, one way or another. Tu verras.”

–

He looked good. That was the first thought that hit me when I rounded the corner only to instantly spot him.

He was stood, grinning softly over at George, who appeared to be spinning some kind of tale or other whilst the pair of them smoked outside of the studio they’d been hiding away in. It was an obsolete building, dull and grey, and had a low metal fencing just beyond the main entrance.

Matty wore his usual wash of denim, along with a shirt just a darker shade of blue beneath an old leather bomber. I smiled at the sight of him, and took a second to steel myself.

Even though it had only been a couple of days since I’d seen Matty last, I really had missed the insolent idiot. 

“Oi aren’t you from that one band?”

Both Matty and George seemed to jump at the sound of my teasing lilt, heads shooting up over to find that it was just me standing there with a grin. I snorted at the looks on the pair of their faces, eyes as wide as dinner plates and jaws ajar. 

“Christ, you scared the shit outta me.” Matty breathed, shaking his head at me even though he was now sporting the beginnings of a grin, I felt a weight slip off my shoulders at the sight of it. “What are you even doing here?”

Wanting to dampen my pleased little smile, I pulled my mouth up to one side as Matty roped me into a hug, glad that he actually seemed happy to see me. 

I buried my face into his shoulder and felt him relax a fraction in my hold, it made me wonder if he’d been feeling a similar way. 

It had been hard, not knowing what would come next for us after the whole Finn fiasco, but seeing Matty now only further proved to me that I really wanted things to work out between us. He made things brighter, made me want for myself for the first time in a long time.

“Jamie mentioned you were recording, so I asked what time you might be wrapping up.” I answered him with a small shrug, pulling away to smile over at George in hello but more than grateful for the arm that Matty kept wrapped around me. “That alright?”

I was ashamed to admit that it had been a very real fear, one which had almost made me turn around a couple of times on my over, but I was glad now that I hadn’t.

“‘Course it’s alright, you pillock. You’re always welcome here.” 

I blinked in slight surprise, because it hadn’t been Matty that had chosen to reply to me, but George. “Oh.”

The drummer snorted, thoroughly amused, it seemed, by my monosyllabic response. Matty chuckled too, dipping his head down to brush his nose against my temple and press a slow kiss to my cheek. I almost held my breath, having missed having him so close.

“Missed you.” He murmured to me quietly, almost as though he’d just gone and read my mind, but then he was drawing away again. Not too far though, instead he moved to stand behind me and allowed his arms to hang over both my shoulders. 

I smiled, contented, and he raised his lit cigarette to my lips in a silent offer. I took a small drag, feeling a flush rush to my face when I caught the way George stood smirking at the pair of us. 

I lifted a hand up to encase one of Matty’s forearms, enjoying the way he pulled me in even closer so that I could lean against him, his chin coming to rest on the top of my head. 

“How’s it been going then?” I asked and the two of them were quick to delve into an explanation on their newest song, jumping over one another’s sentences in their giddiness to finally tell someone else about what they’d been working on. 

And just like that things seemed to slot back into place. 

It wasn’t too long later that George said to Matty that he could go ahead and leave, letting us know that he’d be heading back inside to clean up the track they’d been playing with, and Matty hadn’t argued. Instead, he’d grinned down at me as he took hold of my hand, cheersing George before we said our goodbyes. 

Together, we ended up in a little coffee shop a street or two away. Matty had wanted to surprise me with the order, so I had stood by the window and waited whilst he’d gone to pay. He handed me a cup full of something sweet once he’d returned, more sugar than anything else in truth, but I liked it all the same and sipped on it slowly whilst he’d led us back through the bustling streets towards a neighbouring park.

It was almost freeing to be out like this with him, seeing him smile and laugh whilst we simply walked with no real destination in mind. It was not an image most typically saw of Matty, that I knew. On stage he wore his front like armour, when there were cameras he was cocksure and arrogant, but then, in small moments with me, he appeared only settled.

“How’s Teddy?” Matty asked me soon enough. He looked over at me with this odd sort of expression, genuinely curious as well as concerned, and my heart melted a tad.

I returned the soft smile he gave, “Good. Missing this weirdo we’ve gotten used to hanging about, but he’s been happy.”

Matty rolled his eyes and nudged my shoulder with his own, swaying alongside me. He peered down at his almost empty coffee cup, tapping at its cardboard edge. “Has he said anything?”

I frowned over at him, “What, about you being gone?”

He peered back, eyes flickering left and right between my own before he ultimately nodded his head just the once.

Pursing my lips, I thought his question over. “He asked if we could call you a couple times, and if you were popping round. But other than that, he’s been fine with us just texting. Laughed himself blue in the face when he saw that picture you sent him yesterday.”

Matty snorted. “What, ‘cause I trod in dog shit?”

I hummed, then peered down at his feet, glad to see that he wasn't still wearing the boots he’d shown us the day previous. Matty rolled his eyes, catching on to what I’d been doing.

“And you?” He then asked, as the two of us strolled around a slow bend.

I glanced over at him, glad to see him already looking back, “I missed you.”

It was brave of me to say. I didn’t much like being vulnerable, but with him, he almost made it easy. 

Matty smiled. This soft, sure thing. Then looped an arm around my shoulders to tug me in, I let myself hug his waist as I leant further into his side, grinning stupidly when he said, “Missed you too, Squeaks.”

…

Matty followed me home after our impromptu coffee date and we talked some more all the walk there, mostly just content to be in one another's company again. And when it was time to pick Teddy from nursery, he waited at the flat for us both. He had been on the sofa when I’d left, but I noticed that there was a savoury smell filling the air the minute I returned.

I glanced down at my son, who seemed to be none the wiser to it, still chattering on about the new toy his class had been given whilst he tugged off his coat.

“Shoes too, please.”

Teddy hummed at me, smiling away as he hurriedly kicked them off. “We watch tele ‘night?” He asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waited for me to pull off my own boots and follow. 

I chuckled and ran a hand through his windswept hair, remembering the conversation we’d had that same morning, “Promised, didn’t I?”

Teddy uhuhed and nodded up at me, before spinning around to probably make a beeline for the living room, as he tended to often do. Though he stopped short when he caught a glimpse of a certain curly headed someone who had taken up perch against the door frame there.

“Matty!” Teddy practically shouted before he ran full pelt towards the man who was swift enough to grab him by the arms and hoist him up.

Matty made a wounded sound when Teddy squeezed him into a tight hug, then chuckled to himself as he rubbed a hand down Teddy’s back, “Alright, monster?” 

And with that a dam of questions flooded the flat as Teddy wanted to know about everything and anything he had missed in the short time they had spent apart.

I knew that alone should’ve worried me. As well as how clingy Teddy suddenly became as the night continued on, but when I saw the way the two of them interacted with one another, Teds always eager to have Matty in his presence and Matty forever looking fond, I couldn’t help but brush the thoughts away. 

We spent the rest of our evening together, Matty had somehow managed to wrangle up a couple servings of a creamy pasta bake- one he appeared to have made, going off of the mountain of plates in my sink. Which had been as endearing as it was startling, leading me to question how he’d done it… His mum, apparently. Who had been surprised by his sudden call and the need to cook, as well as the reasoning behind it.

“She knows about me then?” I wondered, twirling with my fork whilst the three of us ate, the radio playing low.

Matty looked over at me, almost bashfully, and shrugged, “Sort of.”

I couldn’t help my laughter, “Sort of? What’s that meant to mean?”

“She knows I’m seeing someone,” He answered with a gentle smile and a roll of his eyes, “And that, I’m serious about it.” He spoke that next bit slowly, almost a little apprehensive, which only widened my growing grin.

I wiggled my brows teasingly, but stayed quiet as I wanted him to go on.

Matty merely chuckled as he shrugged again, “Yeah. She’s just excited for us, for me- which feels weird. Wants to meet you, too.”

I tried to hide my sudden nervousness, I’d never done the whole meet your boyfriend’s parents thing. “Why’s it feel weird?” I asked instead of lingering on it, ‘cross that bridge when you get to it’ and all that shit.

Matty glanced over to Teddy who appeared to be trying his best to see around the kitchen doorway and into the living room where the tele was still on. He gave a warm smile at the sight.

“Just not something I’ve experienced in a long time, I guess. I love her, I do, but she knows firsthand how deep I was in with everything. Felt like she’d given up on me at one point, to be honest. So, having her, I don’t know, say that she’s excited for me, makes it seem like she’s proud almost.”

I reached over the table to take his hand and squeezed, “She is.”

Matty let the topic go after that, tickling Teddy’s side to get his attention and remind him of his dinner, telling him we’d watch tele in a bit. Which was exactly what we did once we’d washed up and dried off, the three of us bundled up on the settee together whilst Hook played. 

Matty talked my ear off about Spielberg as the opening titles ran, and then about how if he could have ever been in a film as a kid he’d have wanted to act alongside Robin Williams. Teddy listened, enraptured by his every word, and all the more excited to watch what Matty had deemed a classic.

I made popcorn halfway through when Teddy had needed the loo, Matty running in just after him and shouting out not to press play again until he was there.

By the end of it, Teddy was falling asleep on Matty’s shoulder whilst the man stared at the tv screen, watching quietly as Peter called out for Tink under the statue.

I was happy enough to just watch them though, smiling softly at the picture they painted, Teddy’s little hand holding onto Matty’s and Matty’s arm wrapped around Teds.

When the final credits rolled, Matty sniffed and peered down to find a dozing Teddy, the boy’s mouth open as he breathed out soft puffs of air.

“Here,” I went to say, sitting up to take him, but Matty was already moving, albeit carefully so as to not wake him, shaking his head at me.

“I’ve got him.”

My breath hitched at those three words, insignificant to anyone else, but everything to me.

Matty gave a soundless chuckle once he’d positioned Teddy in his arms, pressing a kiss to his curls before putting him to bed. I followed after them once I’d turned off the tele, shuffling quietly over the wooden floors, I paused though just before I got to Teddy’s door, surprised to hear voices coming from inside.

“You liked it then?”

I heard Teddy give a quiet hum in return, as well as the slight ruffle of bedsheets. “Was nice.”

“Just nice?” Matty chuckled lowly and I could picture him tucking Teddy in before taking a seat on the mattress beside him. 

“I liked that he came home.” Teddy murmured and then it was Matty’s turn to hum.

“Me too, he got to see all of his family again.”

There was a quiet lull, before, “‘Cause they love him?”

I could hear the smile in Matty’s next words, “They do. Very much, I reckon. As much as your mum loves you.”

“I love her.”

A teary smile broke out on my face at that and my eyes stung with it, forever warmed by how sweet Teddy could be.

Then, “You love me, Matty?”

My next breath lodged itself in the back of my throat at Teddy’s simple question whilst Matty fell utterly silent.

It felt as though all the air had not just been sucked out the room, but the entire flat as I stood there by the door just listening.

But then there was the faintest sound and I knew that Matty had pressed a kiss to Teddy’s head, “‘Course I do. I love you a whole lot, monster.”

Teddy must have been fighting to stay awake then but eventually I heard him speak again, his voice muffled with sleep, “Love you too, Matty.”

I don’t know how long until I heard movement again, only that my heart pounded hard in my chest whilst the blood in my ears roared. I had known for a long time now how fond Matty was of Teddy, it was all too easy to recognise, but to hear him say that he loved him. That he loved my little boy. Was something I hadn’t really ever expected.

But that was just who Matty was, I thought, he loved. Wholeheartedly. And I supposed it had only been a matter of time before he let Teddy know.

I visibly startled when Matty appeared in the doorway, pulling the door quietly shut behind him. He blinked when he caught me there too, but I didn’t give him much time to question me, only sprang forward when the latch clicked to kiss him.

Matty returned it easily enough, fingers moving to thread through my hair, keeping up with my hasty pace before he managed to slow us down, kissing me deeper and deeper before pulling away with a soft and deliberate peck.

His breath came out in pants, fanning over my lips as he kept us close, pressing his forehead to mine. “What was that for?”

“Because I love you.”

I couldn’t believe I’d been the one to say it first, but how could I not? After all that I’d heard. And in truth, it had just come out.

“What?” He whispered, eyes unblinking as he waited for me to take the words back. I half expected him to pull away, to laugh it off, or just kiss me once more, but that was his only question.

I took his chin between my fingertips, gaze flickering down to his lips then back up into the heady brown that was so focused on me. “I love you.” I murmured again, heart beating loud enough that I feared he could hear it.

But Matty only pushed forward, nose catching on my own as he shook his head ever so softly. “You mean it.”

It wasn’t a question.

“I mean it.”

Then Matty was grinning, bright and unashamed, catching my breath all over again before he pushed forward to press his mouth against mine.

“I fucking love you.” He said, giddy as his hands cradled my face, chuckling away in disbelief. “God, do I.”

Then I was chuckling too, thumb brushing over his bottom lip as I stared up into his squinted eyes. “Stay?”

And Matty nodded, as though it was that easy, hands falling to my thighs. “Jump.” He told me, and so I did, letting him kiss me again in the dimly lit hallway that he’d just told me he loved me in.

He loved me.

[silassinclair]

Michael's Girl PT. 1 \\ PolyLostBoys + Michael x Reader

Summary: Michael's girlfriend wishes to become a vampire too after learning how Michael was tricked into becoming one. So he takes her to see David and the other Lost Boys.

CW: Kind of a cliffhanger, Vampires, Crying (Left the summary pretty vague for you guys, this’ll be a multi part series <3)

🖤 → Next Part

"So you're telling me that four guys who live in a cave fed you blood and turned you into a vampire?"

Michael rubbed a hand down his sweaty face, of course you wouldn't believe him. You're probably thinking this is some excuse for why he's been ghosting you lately.

Nodding Michael held your hand to his chest. "Yes yes that's exactly what happened. I would never lie to you okay! Yes I've been keeping the truth from you but that isn't exactly lying."

Giving him an open mouthed stare you slowly nod as if he were insane. "And you expect me to believe this... Why?"

Your boyfriend groans and throws his hands up in defeat letting your hand go. "God dammit! Just... Just believe me alright! Why would I lie to you about this? I'm in deep shit and I'm telling you because I care about you and I know you're worried about me and mad. You wanted an explanation so here it is."

Sighing in defeat you bite the inside of your cheek in thought. Looking back on it now Michael has been pretty... vampiric so to say. The sunglasses, angry demeanor, going out only at night and not eating as much. There was no way he'd go so far just to back up some silly lie/excuse.

"Can you prove it?" You ask with the quirk of your eyebrow. Michael ponders for a quick moment then smiles.

"Okay, but you gotta promise not to get scared alright?" He says and holds both your hands in his. Giving him a nod you give him a light upturn of your lips in reassurance.

"Of course, I could never be afraid of you."

Satisfied with your answer Michael shuts his eyes. Carefully you watch his features. Your eyes widen as you notice his eyebrows and face structure become sharper and more defined. Fangs poke through the gap of his lips. And when he opens his eyes you gasp in shock. Hs baby blue eyes are now a violent, predatory shade of yellow. A venomous color that screams danger. But you aren't afraid.

Your hand cradles Michael's vampiric face. "It's true... What you said. I'm sorry I doubted you love. I'm not afraid of you... So don't worry okay?"

Michaels vampire features morphed away back to his gentle human ones. Seeing a gentle smile grow on your boyfriend's face you can't help but smile too. He pulls you into a hug, his face in your neck. You feel him take a large intake of air.

"Thank you thank you thank you baby. Mmm my God I don't deserve you... also you smell pretty good." He mumbles into the soft flesh of your nape. Feeling a shiver go up your spine you gently caress his hair.

"If you ever feel hungry I wouldn't find if you took a bite Michael." You wink at him. But immediately the boy pulls himself away from you and looks at you with worried eyes.

"Baby don't say that.. You know I would never want to hurt you." The brunette's bottom lip juts out as he pouts, not liking the sound of him feeding off of you in the future.

"Well my boyfriend has to eat one way or another right? Can't let these guns shrink." A dopey smirk is plastered on your face as you squish his bicep muscles. Michael groans.

"Ugh stop."

Michael pulls you into his lap as he sits back on his bed. His Mom, grandpa, and Sam were all out right now so you and Michael had the place all to yourselves. You were lucky you got to convince your parents to let you go to California. Telling them you wanted to go to school there, and saying that living with Michael would cheapen things convinced them. But in reality you just wanted to get out of your home and move in with your boyfriend.

"So why did you wanna become a vampire? This means you can't go out into the sun right?" Worry laces your tone. You didn't understand why Michael would make such a brash decision, plus you two only recently arrived in Santa Carla.

Michael looks to be in thought. A frown pulls on his face as his hold around you tightens in the slightest, "I was sort of tricked. Those guys challenged me, taunted me, played me like a fucking fiddle. I was pretty stoned too which clouded my judgement. Then they hand me this bedazzled bottle of wine saying to drink it if I wanted to be like them. Sleep all day, party all nigh, never grow old-"

You felt anger build up in you, anger towards the men who dared trick Michael into falling into this curse. For using him when he was vulnerable, for cursing him with eternal life and him being doomed to watch you die one day.

"Pause." You cut in. "You're gonna be immortal now?" Your eyebrows furrow. "This means... This means we can't grow old together Michael. You can't go out in the sun with me or-or do anything like that. You're gonna watch me die." Your mood tanked so fast. Eyes welled up with tears as Michael shushed you and held your face to his chest.

"I know baby I know. But there's no way out of this now. Soon I'll be a full vampire and have to... I'll have to leave home. I'll have to run away and leave you, Mom, Sammy, Grandpa. I'll be a killer." Michael seems to have already accepted his fate, his curse of everlasting life on Earth. But you were in shambles. Unless...

"Michael."

He looks down at you and caresses your soft, tear stained cheek. "Yes beautiful?"

"Turn me into a vampire too."

The brunette jerks up in shock. His hands hold your elbows close to him as his eyes look into your own, all seriousness in his gaze. "Would you really do that? Just to be with me forever?"

You give him a firm nod. "I'm serious Michael. You're it for me, and I love you more than anything. I'll gladly love you forever if I may..." With the palm of your hand you wipe a tear that falls from your eye. Michael tilts your chin up with his index finger to look into your eyes once again.

"Y/n. You have to be absolutely sure about this. And I'm sure as hell that I want to be by your side forever. But I need to know if you really want to do this. You'll have to go into hiding, eat people, never go into the sun again."

His face forms into a look of despair, he's 100% sure you'll refuse now. "Do you really want to suffer with me?"

Instead of giving him a verbal answer you pull him in by his collar and kiss him on the lips. A groan of pleasure leaves his lips.

"I-I'll take that as a yes." He mutters as you continue your onslaught of affection, littering his neck with kisses. You draw back from him momentarily.

"Michael." You stop your affections and pull him up from his bed. "Take me to that cave. Where you said it all happened."

Your boyfriend nods and he leads you downstairs. Quickly slipping on your shoes you head outside with Michael where he mounts his bike. Like usual you sit behind him and wrap your arms around him securely.

"Because it's night they probably won't be at the cave. So we're gonna go to the boardwalk first alright?" He says as he revs his engine then zooms off down the driveway. Nodding, you rest your head against the back of his shoulder.

.

.

Under a streetlamp by the red painted seawall are four motor bikes. Standing by each bike is the owner of which. The night was still young but the four vampires settled for just chilling and talking by their bikes on the boardwalk.

"So as I was saying," Paul rambled on, "Movie sequels always suck ass because movie companies always wanna choke an extra buck out of the audience by using a great movie as their tool. Like take uhh... Jaws for example. The first movie was cool and original but because it was successful they think making more will make them more money. It does but like, they rush the production so much to the point that the movie sucks ass."

Dwayne looks at his brother like he's got no skin on. "Since when did you get so intellectual?"

Paul just shrugs and puts his arm around his taller brother. "I always have it in me, it's just that I'm not stoned today. Sober me is a different dude."

The tall brunette sighs. "Of course. How could I forget."

Marko meanwhile is playing with a rubric’s cube that some teenager dropped earlier and David smokes as he watches his curly haired brother try to solve the puzzle.

"Marko I don't think you have enough smarts in your pea brain to solve that." David says while blowing his smoke with a sly smirk. Marko only growls in frustration.

"Oh shuttup man! Great now I messed up, fuck you." Marko throws the cube onto the sandy beach behind him.

Today was slow. The boys were still well fed from yesterday's hunt and the fact that it was a weekday only made everything slower. No one on the boardwalk started a fight for the boys to jump in on. So the four of them are bored and left with nothing to do.

"This is boring." Paul says when he finishes with his movie rant that left Dwayne thinking.

"You can say that again Pauly." Marko groans but an imaginary lightbulb blinks on above his head. He sits up straight from his once slouched postion.

"I know what we can do! We can pay Michael a visit and annoy the shit out of him!"

David smirks, "Oh I like that. Well let's ride boys-"

The sound of a motor bike catches their enhanced hearing.

"Speak of the devil, there he is! I thought he'd never want to willingly see us again." Paul says with a wide grin. He waves to Michael but lowers his hand when he notices someone else on the back of his bike.

Michael pulls his bike up next to where the other four are parked. Kicking out his kickstand he gets off. He then offers his hand to you off your seat which you gently take.

David looks at Michael and then you.

“Who’s this supposed to be Michael?” David says. His expression is unreadable. The leader of the pack has always been by far the most mysterious of the four. And rather unpredictable too.

Michael puts hid arm around your waist and you lean into his side. You look at the four boys, no, men. Vampire men. They are all dressed wildly and you assume that influenced Michael into getting that earring. Not that you’re mad though, it’s pretty sexy actually.

“This is my girlfriend, Y/n.” You feel Michael kiss the top of your head. For a moment you forget that there are four dangerous vampires in front of you because of Michael’s peaceful presence. But the good feeling washes away when one of the vampires speak up.

“You’ve been hiding this hottie from us Michael? She the reason why you make up shitty excuses to head home sooner~?” A tall blonde taunts. The curly haired blonde next to him pats him on the back.

Michael stiffens. “Well as a matter of fact, yes.” He says firmly. “But there’s something else you guys have to know, we can’t talk about it here though.” Michael sends a look to the platinum blonde.

“Sure Michael. Let’s take this back to the cave yeah? Bring your little girlfriend with ya too, if she isn’t scared”

Unimpressed you fire back, “You four don’t scare me. If anything I thought you were all groupies for Rob Halford from Judas Priest.”

An eruption of laughter comes from the two blondes. The one brunette smiles while the leader just smirks.

“Yeah. She’s coming along, right Michael?” The way he says his name makes Michael shiver. Uncertainty washes over Michael. He looks to you and you two silently communicate. His eyes ask if you're absolutely sure about going through with this.

Your only response is a simple nod.

"Let's get going before it gets too bright out now yeah?" You say and get back on Michael's bike. The four vampires share a look, suspicion.

"Yeah. Let's." The platinum blonde smiles. "My name's David by the way. Just so you know what to scream later sweetness." David says and winks in your direction. Michael mounts his bike and says nothing.

All six of you drive away. David leading everyone to the location of the cave by Hudson’s Bluff.

[frogwiththephatahh]

Lines from Epic that absolutely destroy me every single time

"A cave! You're saying there's a cave where we could feast?" (Just because I know that's coming) "Yes, you shall be the final man to die" (mostly because we're at the thunder saga now and Ody literally is the last man standing just...ahhh) Polites' rasping, broken "Cap...tain..." followed by "He's got a club...he's got a club!" "Since you claim you're so much wiser, why's your life spent all alone? You're alone!" "Cause the end always justifies the means/Everything's changed since Polites" The crew screaming "Captain!" as Poseidon destroys the other ships. "I keep thinking of the infant from that night...I keep thinking of the infant from that night..." Odysseus' wistful "Polites..." when Polites appears in the Underworld. "I'm right here, mom, can't you see? I'm waiting" (this genuinely made me tear up the first time I heard it and I still cry when I try to sing along) "And if I gotta drop another infant from a wall in an instant so we all don't die- then I'll become the monster!" "Cut off their tails! We're ending this now. Throw their bodies back in the water- Let them drown." (fucking BRUTAL) "Eurylochus, light up six tourches" Also, you can HEAR the crewmates screaming as Scylla grabs them during "Scylla" and it's haunting. Before I get into the MANY that Mutiny has, I've gotta give a shout out to Jorge and Armando for the insanely emotional and moving acting they deliver during this song. It's a masterpiece. "Use your wits to try and say I'm crazy and mad" the DESPERATION in Eury's voice I can't "Say something!" "I can't!"

"This statue...the God of the Sun. Don't know where it's from, but here's where we found all these cows to hunt" I read The Odyssey long before listening to Epic and knowing exactly where this was going made me shudder "Please don't tell me you're about to do what I think you'll do" One of many callbacks to other songs in Mutiny "Ody, we're never gonna get to make it home, you know it's true" "I'm tired, my friend!" Armando I hate you /aff "Eurylochus, no! You've doomed us. You've doomed us all, Eurylochus!" followed by Eurylochus softly saying, "captain?" And of course we can't forget "Captain?" "I have to see her" "But we'll die" "I know" In conclusion, I love this musical

[hai7ani]

THE BOY WITH THE MP3 𓅹 haitani rindou

sfw, canon-typical violence, angst, troubled past/abusive situations, city boy x island girl please proceed with caution

prequel to the home collection 𖠋

part i / marigold

You think Tokyo is suffocating.

Everyone moves fast. People are constantly in a rush and you don't know why. One time a man in a suit was running while speaking loudly into his Nokia and he knocked you over. Your Cola fell to the floor, school books scattered all over from your unzipped bag and an elderly lady helped you up. That was it.

The atmosphere is different than it was back home. It's noisy with music from advertisements and the stores are always so huge. One time you waddled in to a supermarket on your way home with the motive of searching for a packet of thing Mama asked you buy after school. You spent 10 minutes navigating through the aisles and eventually stopped in front a wall full of different things in different packets.

You're not so sure what exactly Mama wanted, only remembering the words cheap and powder fall from her mouth before she ushered you out the house and slammed the door.

"Excuse me," You pull at the apron of a passing store clerk and she bows down to your height with a smile. "I don't know what my mother wants me to buy, but she wants something powder that is cheap." You show her the coins in your tiny hand and she hands you a packet of salt with a pat to the head. "Take this too. Eat it on your way home." She passes you a bottle of colourful gummy bears with a warm smile.

That evening, you return to your room teary-eyed with a stinging, red mark to your left cheek.

Mama never let you buy groceries ever again. She throws the half-finished bottle of gummy bears in the bin when you show her and points an accusing finger at Papa on the the couch. She yells at him for not helping around the house. She screams at him for not teaching his daughter better.

His daughter.

You cry when you're reminded that Mama isn't your biological mother.

He aims a heavy bottle of beer at the wall behind Mama. It shatters and the sharp pieces fly everywhere. Beer stains the pristine white walls and Mama cries loudly. He calls her annoying and he pushes you to the side when he exits the front door.

You find shards of glass in your hair when you go to shower and they cut your fingers while you pick them out raw with painful hisses.

You decide you don't like going to Costco anymore, and you remind yourself to kill the lady when you see her next time.

Mama wanted flour, not salt. And you are allergic to gelatine. It says so on the emergency contact card hanging around your neck.

You go to sleep feeling itchy all around that night. Mama doesn't help you with your allergies anymore.

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

School is boring.

People never talk to you and there's not much work to do. You understand the classes, or most of it anyway. Math was never your specialty. When Souma-sensei calls on you to answer the equation written on the chalkboard, you don't reply. You fiddle with your fingers while drops of sweat drips from your forehead to the worksheet splayed on your desk.

"Can you answer the question?" Sensei says your name louder this time and you mumble your reply quietly. The girl sitting beside you laughs and you blush. "I cannot hear you, girl." He moves closer and you look up into his furious eyes. "You're wasting everyone's time."

"I don't know the answer."

You stayed behind class to clean up after everyone as a punishment for not knowing the answer to Question 17. "It is easy. We've been through this topic many times. How can you still not know?" Sensei slams a hand on the table loudly and you flinch. He reminds you of Papa and you don't like it.

"I'm sorry." You don't look into his eyes when you say it and he whips out a thin bamboo cane from under the desk. The thin one always hurts more than the thick ones. "Cover your wrist." And you do it as he lands three strikes on your left palm.

You bite on your lip until it bleeds, tolerating the pain and waiting for it to end. From the corner of your eyes, you spot a certain brunette peeking in at the doorway.

"Are you okay?" Kirara mouths to you when Sensei is distracted and you nod.

I'll be fine.

Mama is called to school later to talk about your progress and you walk home yourself after.

"I do not want to see your face right now. You piss me off, girl." She pokes at your forehead and you cry in front of the school gate with many, many other people looking. Some of them laugh, licking at their cones of ice creams and some of them continue minding their own business.

"I bring you all the way to Tokyo for you to behave like this? Unbelievable." And she stomps off after that. Her expensive Gucci bag that you're sure Papa didn't buy for her hits you in the shoulder with a loud thud as she walks off. You see her through teary eyes that she gets into a car with a man who isn't Papa and they kiss and drive off soon after.

You do not go home after that.

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

You come from a small town in Okinawa. Mama is from Hyogo and Papa is a local. He used to work at a factory full-time and Mama works as a nurse in the hospital.

You grow up as an only child with no cousins. You asked Mama once and she simply shut you down with a shake of her head. "Too young to know."

You don't ask her again.

And like every other eleven year-old in Okinawa, you like music and going to the beach. The shores are always so pretty and calming and you always tell Aaliyah, your best friend that you never want to leave this place with the wind blowing through your hair. She nods in agreement and tells you stories of the dangers of America along with the reasons why she doesn't want to go back there. Aaliyah plays Biggie on her brother's speaker and you spend the evening scraping your knee on the boardwalk. You feel determined to learn this new trick on your skateboard.

But this chapter ended drastically when Papa quit his job one day in the middle of Summer and you hear him discuss with Mama at the dining table of your old home. "Honey, let's go to Tokyo. You remember Kota? Yeah, he said he got me a job there, somewhere in Minato, but I'll have to go see it for myself first. Let's go now. He got us plane tickets cheap." You don't remember a lot other than Papa selling the house and sending Grandma off to a care center, and all of a sudden you're holding Mama's hand while standing in the heart of a foreign city.

Tokyo Tower shines brightly above you under the night sky and it hurts your eyes. "Are we in Minato?" You ask her with a squint and she smiles brightly. "Yes. We're gonna be so happy here, girl."

Mama squeezes your hand and drags you along but you don't feel convinced. You suddenly miss Grandma's hugs and Aaliyah's laughter as you mispronounce an English word.

Mama enrols you at a neighbourhood public school and gives you ¥800 for allowance whenever she feels like it. "We have to watch our money now. Do you think we are very rich?" She answered with a hiss when you curiously asked why she didn't give you the usual ¥1000.

You start saving your changes in your piggy bank that you hide under your creaky bed. You don't like the thought of Papa seeing it because you once saw him taking money from Mama's wallet when she was in the shower.

Papa hands you a bill when he spots you peeping. "Don't tell your mother." He pats your head with warning eyes. It didn't make you feel good, so you gave it back to Mama soon after he left the house. She hit you that night and called you a thief. "Where are the rest?" She yells as she flips your bedroom inside out. "I didn't take it, Mama. Please believe me."

Pieces of your broken piggy bank sits in the bin later with no more money in it. You squat beside it and try to piece them back together with bloody, wobbly fingers and teary eyes.

You mentally make a note to never give Mama back her money anymore. You tell yourself to let Papa go when he takes more of her cash. You swear to yourself you will make a lot of money in the future and give it to Grandma when you return to Okinawa.

But Grandma passed away shortly after you called to tell her just that. "Granny, please wait for me. I will come home soon with lots of money and I'll buy a nice house for you." "Okay, sweetie. I will be waiting for you. Please take care."

Neither Papa nor Mama let you go home for her funeral. You cried yourself to sleep the entire week with a broken heart and deep regrets while you mourn her death silently in your quiet bedroom.

And unlike back home, you don't have a lot of friends in Tokyo. Everyone else never talks to you unless needed and you don't talk to them either. You can never understand what they are saying; they speak so different than the people in Okinawa did. Everyone looks at you with lingering eyes and are never nice to you except for one girl.

Her name is Shimabukuro Kirara and she's in the class next door. You see her for lunch sometimes and she tells you about her day. But when her other friends come she says goodbye and leaves you alone at the quiet stairs.

You wonder if Kirara is happy. She always has a nice smile and you heard she has good grades, too. Her seemingly expensive schoolbag shimmers under the sun and she proudly shows it to the people who asks about it. But she is always nice to you, unlike the other people in school.

You wonder if you are considered her friend. You want to be friends with her, if not.

You're in the process of admiring the view of the city in front of you, fingers picking mindlessly at the grass beneath as you think about Kirara. What is her life like at home? Does her father throw glasses at walls when angry and does her mother ever hit her when she makes a mistake? You wonder and wonder and wonder.

Your eyes follow the cars that passes by highways, the warm yellow lights in tall apartments that goes off and on at different hours, the sounds of planes flying past in the night sky above.

You decide that you like it here. You look around and make it a permanent note to come here next time. Next time? That is if Mama doesn't murder you for not going home. Though you doubt she even cares.

"She did say she didn't want to see me." You mumble to yourself and pout as you hug your knees close to your tightening chest. You feel like crying but nothing comes out. Perhaps it is numbness? Or are you simply too afraid and tired to care anymore? You're not too sure. You are only eleven, after all.

A moment passes as you get lost in your jumbled thoughts. A boy walks up the hill and his clumsy hands drops his MP3 on the grass. "Shit." He curses and it catches your attention.

You turn around and see a boy about your age who is bending down and picking up the gadget that is still playing faint music. You recognise the beat (it's a favourite) and grow interested and you watch with sparkling eyes as he dusts off the dirt while clicking his tongue.

You take this moment to observe him.

A light green hoodie that says G.A.P., blonde hair in a high bun, round silver metal glasses perched on top of his nose, chubby cheeks that compliments him well and you notice the black ink that goes down his right leg under his red and black basketball shorts. You look back up and notice he isn't very tall and . . .

He's looking at you.

"What're you starin' at?" He asks rudely and creases his brows. You blink and fix yourself when you hear him speaking to you. "Oh, sorry." You blush when he doesn't look away.

"Why are you here?" You try to think of something. "I didn-"

"Who told you about this place? Is it Ran?" The boy is standing in front of you now and demanding answers. The MP3 is still playing Still Dre by Dr. Dre and Snoop Dogg and you're getting distracted by it. You're not taking him very seriously despite the given situation. "Um, no. Who is Ran?" You stand up as well and find that he is taller than you.

He studies you for a minute before clicking his tongue. "Never mind." He turns around and hops on top of a wooden fence, balancing his butt on it.

Neither of you talk after that.

Grandma always told you to make a decision and stick to it. You nod to yourself.

You grab the handle of your school bag from the grassy ground and drop it on the foot of the fence beside him. He stares at you with a raised brow, "what are you doing?"

You don't say anything but hop on beside him, to which he scoots away and grows alert, hand gripping his MP3 tight for dear life and you take a peek at it. You see the words on the screen and you grin brightly.

"Dr. Dre, huh?" "What the heck-"

The boy blinks at you in confusion. You continue grinning and snatch the gadget away from his hands and scroll through it.

"I know a lot of these songs."

You scan through the playlists and grow even fonder when you notice him gaping at you. "Can I borrow this?"

He's quick to shut you down. "No," and he snatches it back. "Go away." He fixes his glasses with a frown.

You pout and look away, choosing to stare at the very interesting tree instead. He changes the song and Marigold by Nirvana starts playing. You grin and turn to look at his MP3 again but he's already glaring at you. "I said go away." He hisses.

"Can I stay here, at least?" You move and point to the other fence facing him. He ponders and clicks his tongue, waving a dismissive hand at you. "Whatever. Just don't talk to me." And you happily move over to sit opposite of him while hugging your bag.

The boy doesn't talk to you but he's very much aware of your every actions. The way you're bopping your head to whatever music he's playing, your lips that don't stop smiling and it's obvious to him that you're enjoying the atmosphere.

He decides to bite.

". . . How'd you know all these songs?" His voice is quiet when he asks but you perk up at his question.

"I'm from Okinawa. Some people speak English there and a lot of Americans visit yearly. They play great music, and I like music." You grin and he listens intently with as much comprehension he has for an accent that he doesn't speak. Both of his hands hangs in between his legs and the MP3 is now quiet. You wish he continued playing it.

But you continue, "my best friend is from The Bronx in New York City, but she lives in Okinawa because her father is in the military. She plays Hip-hop for me and teaches me English from time to time." You think of Aaliyah who has been contacting you through e-mail all this time.

The boy is confused when you finish.

"You're a girl, from Okinawa, and you know American Hip-hop." He frowns. You cock your head to the side, "why can't I?"

"Girls are supposed to be boring."

"I am not, I think." You grow angry all of a sudden at his words. "And why do you boys always look down on girls? It is not funny. We are plenty of fun."

He flushes when confronted with your angry eyes. No girl has ever made him feel this way before. "'S just . . . All the girls in my class talks about the same thing. 'N they like annoying me. I don't like that."

"Then they must be mean girls." You think of the group of girls in your class who takes a liking to you. Taking a liking to bullying you, that is.

"Not all girls are boring. And there's nothing wrong with being boring, anyway. Just have fun, be who you are. How I wish I can do it here in Tokyo. I miss being home."

He is silent as he processes your words. Perhaps he has been wrong all this time. Not all girls are the same. Just like how him and Ran are both polar opposites despite being siblings.

The boy comes to a conclusion and figures you aren't boring. You speak different and you listen to music different from the girls in his school. You probably like many other different things, too.

There must be a lot to find out about you.

"How long have you been in Tokyo?"

"Just a while. I got here in late July, sooo . . ." You count with your fingers, "maybe two and a half months. But I don't like it here." You shrug and he raises a brow.

"Hah? You don't like Tokyo?" You shake your head at his dismissive tone. "Nope." You don't give any further reasons and he makes a disgusted expression. "I have never met anyone that doesn't like it here."

"Of course you haven't. You live here, don't you?" You question and he nods. You think of all the reasons that has made you come to this conclusion. You don't feel too good. "Well, I don't care. I don't like Tokyo, that's it." You take a sip from your water bottle and close the cap with a loud clack. He sighs and lets it go.

"Why are you here then?" He asks, half-lidded purple eyes staring up at the stars above. He cannot see a lot of them tonight, and he gives up before glancing at you who is looking up too. It must've been brighter in Okinawa. And she has to stare at Tokyo skies now. The thought leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

The two of you are so similar, yet so different.

Him, a city boy who goes to a private school in Roppongi and listens to Hip-hop all day. He talks back to authoritarian adults and slaps people who tries picking a fight. You, an island girl who spends (or spent) your days sunbathing and skateboarding at the boardwalk, drinking lemonade and doing what girls your age do.

You listen to the same music and stare up at the same sky. Only one's stars in the sky is brighter than the other.

He's just a boy, and you're just a girl.

". . . Ran didn't tell me about this place." You reply and he clicks his tongue. "I know that. I'm asking why are you here. It's late."

You don't feel like replying a lot. The boy waits for you to answer and you simply grin when you think about it. ". . . I'm running away from home."

It kinda feels nice to say. You're running away from your troubled and abusive home. You wanna say it more.

He blinks. "Why?"

You figure you'll let it out. You're here, he's here; it might even be the last time you'll ever see him.

Screw it.

"Mama wasn't nice to me today, so I didn't feel like going home, but I don't think she'll notice. I also saw her with another man today, I think they're dating. I don't know. It's confusing, I don't wanna think 'bout it."

You're reminded of the recent nights that Mama comes home late and Papa waits up in the living room drinking beer and watching TV. And when she doesn't return when the clock strikes 1, he gives up and goes to bed alone.

What's the big deal about returning home at 9pm anyway? Mama won't be home to see you come in, and Papa would be too drunk to even notice at this hour.

The boy hops off the fence with a huff and you look at him. He starts walking away with a lazy wave. "See ya."

"H-hey!" You stutter while hopping off and picking up your heavy schoolbag from the ground. "Where're you goin'?!"

"Go home. It's late. There's all kinds of people around here." He says before speeding down the hill. Ran's gonna kill him if he doesn't go back by 10.

"I-" you pause when the lamppost above you flickers quickly and suddenly-

It's dark. Absolute pitch black. And you're scared of the dark. You start tearing up.

You hear footsteps walking away and follow behind it timidly in little steps. "Hey. Please." You call out again with fat tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

You sniffle and the footsteps stop. ". . . I don't know how to go home." You try blinking the tears away but they don't stop. You don't like being left alone.

You hear the boy sigh loudly before a bit of rustling sounds through and suddenly, with a click, you can finally see again. He points his flashlight in your direction and you squint. He beckons you to come over. You hurry and his flashlight shines at the ground, leading the way of you to him.

"Where do you live?" He asks when you finally stop in front of him. You wipe your tears with the sleeves of your uniform and mumble out the address Mama forced you to memorise. "I have to go home by nine-thirty. Mama usually comes home at ten." He nods.

The boy takes the first step and you follow tightly behind him, a hand reaching up to tug at his hoodie and he blushes. He'd normally slap anyone's hands away if they touch a single hair on him but he leaves yours there. You don't let go until you finally see the city again.

He quickly navigates through the little alleyways like a pro and soon, you find yourself standing in front of your apartment complex at 9:30pm sharp.

"Bye." He says curtly and turns around to leave. You pull on his hoodie and he hisses when the fabric chokes his neck.

"What's your name?" There's a shimmering glint in your eyes when you ask. He can't find it in him to tell you no.

"Rindou. You?"

You tell him your name with a bright smile and bid him good night. It's the third time someone in Tokyo has asked for your name. Your eyes linger on the MP3 in his left hand before reluctantly looking away and leaving in clumsy steps. He stares at your disappearing figure as you go up the stairs and enter your apartment unit.

Rindou sighs and his bored, purple eyes flicker to the shadows hiding behind a lone lamppost.

"What do you want?"

A tall man emerges from the dark. "Who's that?" He smirks, a lollipop hanging from his lips and pervertic eyes gawking at your apartment complex. Rindou rolls his eyes with a click of his tongue.

He'd have never walked you home if he knew this would happen.

"No one. What do you want?" Rindou pushes again.

"Hehe," The man giggles cunningly and a few other taller men appear behind him. "To crush you, of course. And if we win, we'll get the little girl." He licks his lips.

Rindou doesn't return home until 11pm that night.

He holds the gang leader by his hair and hisses in his ear. "You leave her alone, got it? Forget everything that you saw today."

Rindou is capable of taking down a relatively strong gang all by himself, but Ran never lets him. Though only eleven, the younger son of the Haitani household who have always been into martial arts since he was really young trains whenever he can. He begged his mother to let him take martial arts classes in return for going to school and never missing a single day. He's up-kept his side of the bargain until now.

The poor man with broken nose and limbs nods quickly, a mixture of snort and blood dripping from his nose as he sobs, "I'm sorry! I swear I'll forget everything. Please let me go."

He throws him on the ground and sighs. The boy glances at your apartment complex again and sends a quick message to his brother on his Blackberry. He updates him on the newest gang out of many that has just picked a fight with him in the middle of the night. Rindou leaves out the part where he explains why.

To protect a girl he didn't even know.

He shoves the device in his pocket after finishing and leaves.

"I'm an idiot."

Rindou swears he will never see you again.

/ᐠ. .ᐟ\ฅ reblogs are appreciated!

here's the story of how reader ran away when she was eleven and first met rindou at the spot