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diyasgarden · 3 months ago

Text

The Chain

pairing: Patrick Zweig x reader, minor Art Donaldson x reader

rating: explicit (18+)

word count: 28.3K

summary: Ever since you started at the Mark Rebellato Tennis Academy, it seemed like Patrick Zweig was out to make your life miserable. But as you both grow older and your relationship with him evolves in ways you couldn't have predicted, you find there is truly no escaping Patrick.

contains: mentions of bullying, infidelity, oral sex (m and f receiving), vaginal sex, cucking (somewhat), vaginal penetration with a tennis racket, depressive tendencies, reader slaps Patrick, reader is somewhat pathetic (i still <3 her)

author's note: Hi!! This is my first time ever writing a fic like this. Both in length and plot. Plus, it's my first time writing anything explicit. The idea was sent to me by @senseofnewness (absolutely brilliant!!!) and what was meant to originally be a short fic is now this. The name is taken from the Fleetwood Mac song of the same name, which I felt was fitting for the characters. I have a lot of mixed feelings on this fic, but I know loved it writing it. Enjoy <3

----

“Sign mine?” someone asks from above you. You look up from your seat on the bleachers to see Art Donaldson holding out his yearbook and a pen to you. You blankly stare at it and then your eyes dart around the area to see if someone is going to jump out of the corner laughing at you. It wasn’t like him to do so, but your mind automatically goes to thinking this is some sort of joke. When you’re unable to find anyone, you realize he is genuinely asking. Someone asking to sign your yearbook? Well that’s a first. You’re not friends with him, but then again you weren’t friends with anyone at the Mark Rebellato Tennis Academy.

You reach out for the yearbook and pen without saying anything, but then realize how awkward the silence must be. “You may have to burn this afterwards,” you say in an attempt to make a joke to fill the silence, but see a frown form on his face and realize he doesn’t find it funny. You look down at the yearbook on your lap to hide the embarrassment and quickly scribble something, so this interaction can end. Have a good summer! Short and simple. As you hand the book and pen back to him, you hope this is the part where he walks away and you can finish your lunch. It’s 12:55 PM, you need to go soon.

Except he just stands there. You look at him feeling confused. Now what? His eyes dart to the yearbook beside where you sit. It’s only then you realize he wants to sign your yearbook. Another first. You reluctantly take the book and hand it to him, the feeling that this is some sort of joke lingering in the back of your head. Again, Art never joined in on the teasing and it was kind of late to start, but who knows. You wouldn’t be surprised.

He smiles as he opens to the back of the book and starts to write something down. “I’ll guess I’ll still be seeing you around in the fall” he comments in a tone that indicates there is more he wants to say. He pauses, looking at what he wrote, but then starts to write again. “Mhm,” you mumble with your mouth full. You’re both going to Stanford and both playing for Stanford Tennis. You got a full scholarship for the school, just like the one you had for the past six years at the academy. You wouldn’t have been able to pay for university without it. That was the best part of tennis for you: the doors it opened.

You glance down at your watch again as you shove the last bit of your sandwich in your bag. It’s 12:57 now. You need to leave. He smiles as he finally hands the book back to you. “See you at graduation,” he says with a smile and a wave as he walks away. You wave back and look down to see what he wrote in the book. It was nice going to the Academy with you! Can’t wait to see you at Stanford. Keep in touch :)

It is followed by a set of numbers. His phone number? Before you can think too much about this, you see on your watch it’s 12:59. You toss the book back into your bag, and leave.

----

“Where were you?” Patrick asks the minute you open the door to his car and slide into the backseat beside him. He’s parked behind some shop, far enough from campus that no one will know who you are. He rarely picks the same place twice, but this area looks familiar for some reason. You’re not going to tell him about the little run in with Art, so you shrug and say, “Was finishing up some work.” He rolls his eyes, “We are graduating next week and you care about work?"

You just look at him with an annoyed expression, one that he clearly doesn’t care about, because it just makes him laugh. He then looks at you, taking in the furrow of your brows, before leaning in close to your face. He smirks, as his hand moves to your thigh. It slowly moves up underneath your skirt and you feel his fingers pull at the little spandex shorts you have underneath. Then his lips come down crashing on yours.

----

Your classmates at the academy have a very surface level understanding of you. They know your family is poor. They know you can only attend the school because of a scholarship. And they all hate you. Curetsy of the one and only Patrick Zwieg.

From the start he made it clear that he thought you didn’t belong in the academy. It’s not like your twelve year old self did anything to upset him when you first joined. He just took one look at you and decided your existence at the academy went against the laws of nature. And well he wasn’t wrong. You were surrounded by people who had enough privilege to coast through life, while you had none. You were well aware you were the black sheep. He was just rubbing salt in the wound.

Your first year at the academy was spent with the twelve year old Patrick calling you names any chance he got. As he got older, he just seemed to get more creative with the torment. From breaking your rackets and getting others to tease you, it got worse each year. By the time you turned fifteen, every single one of your classmates knew you as the broke scholarship student who should have dropped out ages ago. What they didn’t know was the fact you’ve been sleeping with Patrick.

It was junior year and the weekend before Christmas. You both were the only ones who hadn’t left for winter break yet. Your family always booked the cheapest flight for you, which usually means flying on Christmas day. While you don’t remember why he was still at the academy, you do remember running into him at the indoor courts. He made some comments about your family. You don’t remember exactly what but you assume it was something about your parent’s inability to spend money on a decent flight. Maybe it was the fact that you two were the only ones there, but something snapped inside you that day. You called him “a worthless trust fund kind who’d never amount to anything.” Your first time ever speaking back to him and that really set him off. The next thing you know he was dragging you into the locker room saying he was going to shove your head in the toilet.

For all the years he spent threatening to put your head in the toilet, this was the first time he ever actually acted on it. His grip on you was strong. You distinctly remember thinking that it was the end. And then just as he actually got you into the locker room, you saw you had the opportunity to do what everyone wishes they could to the men that make their life miserable: hit him right in the nuts. You punched him there hard and he fell to the ground.

The next thing you knew, you got on top of him while he laid on the ground and hit him. Years of pent up rage pouring out of you in your smacks and the insults you hurled at him. What happened after that was all a blur. You felt something poke your thigh and before you could even process the fact you somehow turned him on, his mouth crashed on yours and you both started making out on the floor of the boy’s locker room.

You didn’t see him after that. He went to go home the morning after and when Christmas day came you left too. What happened between the both of you in the locker room lingered at the back of your mind all throughout the break. The memory felt like a sinful secret that aroused you more than any form of smut or porn could. You even touched yourself to it. While that was slightly shameful, you weren’t surprised it affected you so much. The fact that you were a social pariah at the academy meant none of your classmates showed any interest in you, be it platonic, romantic, or sexual. It wasn’t your first kiss, but it was your first proper time making out with a boy. And you weren’t blind. Patrick may have been your bully, but you knew he was attractive.

By the time January rolled around and you were back at the academy, you didn’t know what to expect. You didn’t know what effect that moment had on him. On one hand, you knew he got around and was not as sexually pent up as you, so maybe this was normal for him? On the other hand, he must have at least felt a bit of shock for making out with you considering the fact how he always treated you. Regardless, there was no universe in which you could imagine Patrick being nice to you. You saw him on the first day back in your history class, and just as if nothing happened, he insulted your hand-me-down backpack as you walked into the classroom. His friends laughed and joined in, and you realized whatever happened that weekend before Christmas was a freak accident. You just assumed things were now back to normal, up until he cornered you later that day behind the gym. A little nook where no one could see either of you. He bent down close to your face and threatened that if you ever told anyone he’d kill you. You felt heart race and thighs clench, but before you could give any response his lips were once again on yours. And that’s how it all started.

----

“You’re playing in the US junior open?” Patrick asks as he sits up again, leaning against the car window, his face flushed and hair messy from the sex.

You sit up as well as you nod in response. How did he find out about that? You guess some coach probably told him. You slowly reach for your clothes from the floor of the car, and look outside the window. This time you realize why it felt familiar. This is where he parked his car for you both to fuck after prom. You went alone (only because your mother called you saying you may regret it if you didn’t) and he went with another girl, but an hour after the dance ended you got a text from him telling you where to find him. Without a second thought, you went.

You turn back to face him, as you pull on your shirt, and see he has a pensive expression as if debating something. “What?” you ask. “I didn’t know you qualified,” he says. You simply shrug in response, you weren’t sure how you qualified either. Tennis is an out of body experience at this point. When you watch your games, it never feels like you’re watching yourself.

“Guess they let anyone play,” he says with a little chuckle looking out the window, although his voice isn’t mocking like in public. When he teased you in private, it always felt more playful. As if he wanted to make you laugh, not cry. You watch him look out the window to check if anyone is around. He turns back to you and says, "I have to get back for practice.” This was his way of saying: Now that we are done fucking, you need to leave.

You pull up your skirt and nod to let him know you got the message. You pick up your bag and step out of the car. Just as you start to walk back in the direction of campus, you hear the window of his car roll down and Patrick calling your name. You turn to face him and he asks, “Same time tomorrow?” You should say no, but instead you say, “Sure.”

----

Your last week at the Academy was relatively peaceful. Some name calling here and there, but as graduation got closer no one seemed to have the energy to bother you. Everyone was busy talking about their summer plans, the junior open, or where they were going in the fall. Nearly everyone committed to one university or another, either to play tennis there or just to get a degree. Only Patrick chose to go pro, which wasn’t a surprise considering he was always vocal about how pointless university was. You two spent the last week hooking up in his car behind random buildings and in abandoned parking lots after classes ended, but the last time you actually saw him was at graduation. After the ceremony, you headed out towards your parents and saw him standing with a serious expression as two adults talked to him. His parents you guessed. As you watched him, he turned to face you as his parents continued to talk, not noticing his attention was elsewhere, and you both just looked at each other.

You broke eye contact first when your parents asked you to pose for a photo. You never told them about how awful the other students treated you at the academy. Mostly because you knew they would have pulled you out. You didn't want that because you were aware that the public school in your home town wouldn’t have given you half as good of an education as the academy. As a result, they thought everything was great and were eager to memorialize the time you spent there, taking photos of every game and event they could attend. Although, this you could agree was momentous. Graduation meant you were leaving the academy behind, so you happily posed for them. By the time they were done snapping pictures of you in your cap and gown and you looked around for Patrick, he was nowhere to be found. Of course he wouldn’t have come up to you, and you wouldn’t have gone up to him. But you expected something more than whatever that was. It felt like an anticlimactic ending to the past six years.

The summer last year, the one in between junior and senior year, you had kept in contact, but it was really just phone sex at least once a week. This summer he hadn’t reached out once. You didn’t either, choosing to spend an embarrassing amount of time thinking about him instead. You told yourself that it was a much needed reflection on your relationship with Patrick, which regardless of how bizarre and unconventional was still your first relationship. In all fairness, relationship was too generous of a word, but you couldn’t think of what else to call it. You lost your virginity to him and you were sleeping together for over a year. Consistently too, as you met up multiple times each week. Of course it was always on his terms. You met when he wanted to meet. Always in private and never doing anything in public that could even hint at what they were doing. He was still awful to you in front of others. A part of you hated the fact that someone you made your life so miserable could make you feel so good, but a larger part was ready to comply with anything he wanted. It was sadistic, but you couldn’t help but find it poetic that the first guy to make you break down in public was also the first guy to make you come.

You tried to occupy the time by spending time with your family, being in the sun, and practicing tennis, but nothing was enough to expel Patrick from your mind. By the time the junior open came around, you were grateful to have something else to focus on.

----

You got out of the open when you lost a semi finals match against Anna Mueller. You didn’t even expect to get that far, so you were unphased by the loss. Your family was proud and you had one more match in the evening against the player who lost the other girls’ singles semi final. It was just to determine who’d place third and who’d place fourth, and you were fine with either. You decided to pass the time till then by taking a little walk around the center where the open was being held. It was your first time here, so you may as well explore.

Just as you stood in front of a board in the entry hall of the center detailing its history, you heard a familiar voice say to you, “Great match yesterday. You were amazing.”

You turned around to see the strawberry blonde you only expected to see again at Stanford stand in front of you. He is smiling and you can tell he is being genuine when he says it, but that doesn’t stop you from saying, “Well I lost.”

Art simply shrugs in response, “You still played well.” Unsure what to say in response, you nod slowly. You can feel your eyes go downcast , and an awkward silence forms between the both of you. He swallows and looks at you as the awkwardness grows. Then suddenly he says, “You never called.”

“Huh?” you respond looking up at him. “Your yearbook…I wrote down my number,” he reminds you in a slow voice, his cheeks flushing pink as he does. You can see he is embarrassed, but you honestly did forget about his message in your yearbook.

“Oh..that,” you say with a forced laugh, trying to seem normal. If you were unsure how to respond to his compliment about your game, you are at a genuine loss of words on how to acknowledge this. He surely couldn’t have actually expected you to call him over the summer? You came to the conclusion that he left his phone number as a formality because you were both going to Stanford. A way to contact him once you both got there.

Art lets out a forced little laugh too, and you can see he feels equally awkward by this interaction. For a moment, it looks like he is about to say something, until you hear an even more familiar voice ask, “What’s going on here?”

Both you and Art turn to the direction where the voice came from and see Patrick standing there. While you imagined the moment you’d run into Patrick again, nothing you imagined was as awkward as this. His summer tan is visible against the white of his shirt, and you bite down on your back teeth to stay focused. His eyes dart between you and Art and it’s clear he has picked up on whatever awkward energy is radiating off the both of you. For a moment you think he is going to laugh or crack a joke about your inability to hold a conversation, but his eyebrows just furrow.

Art’s eyes go to the side, unable to hold the weight of Patrick’s gaze, and you realize it’s up to you to say something, “We were just talking about my game yesterday,” you say.

“Against Anna Mueller,” Patrick says and you nod. “The one you lost,” he then adds. Art shoots him an expression you can’t read, but one that Patrick obviously understands because he shrugs and adds on, “What? She did lose.”

Art just sighs and turns back to you, “We should get going. We have our doubles final in an hour.”

“Oh good luck,” you say with a little nod. Of course they were in the doubles competition together. Fire and Ice. While you knew they were the poster child for being a duo in every sense of the word, you always found it hard to associate both boys with each other like everyone else did. Art was the only one of Patrick’s friends who didn’t make fun of you. When Patrick or any of this other friends said something, he’d just sit there watching. Which was always a bit strange considering he was his best friend.

“You’ll come watch?” Art then asks slowly.

This request surprises both you and Patrick, who’s eyebrows shoot up a little bit. “Uh...yeah sure,” you say with a little shrug. It feels too awkward to say no to Art right now, even if you don’t fully understand why he wants you at the game or want to go in the first place. Art just smiles in response, and waves a bit as he walks off. He stops when he notices Patrick just stands there looking at you.

You look at Patrick and you see he has a stony expression on his face directed right at you. “Patrick?” Art asks, and as if shaken back to reality Patrick’s face instantly goes back to normal.

He turns to Art and with a little nod Patrick says, “I came in to use the bathroom. You head out, I’ll catch up to you later.” Art simply nods and walks to exit the center and head back to the courts. Both you and Patrick watch Art leave, and the minute he is out of the door, Patrick walks over and grabs your wrist before you can even process what’s going on. “Come,” is all he says as he starts to walk, taking you along with him. You soon realize he is taking you into the bathroom with him. He opens the door to the men’s bathroom and then takes you into a stall. He locks it behind him.

Patrick looks at you for a moment and then asks in a low voice, “So what were you and Art actually talking about? “We were talking about my game,” you say with a nod. “Don’t bullshit me,” he says with an expression that shows he knows you’ve left something out.

You just look at him for a moment, staring into his green eyes, which stare right back at you with a serious look. You assume he is worried that you may have told Art about the two of you. You shrug and admit, “He gave me his number.” Patrick just looks at you, but before he can say anything, you add on “Not like right now, but before school ended.”

“At the academy?” he asks, his voice tinged with slight disbelief. “He wrote it in my yearbook,” you say. “What? So you’ve been texting him or something?” Patrick then asks, his voice irritated now. You shake your head no and his eyebrows furrow as if trying to determine if you’re lying or not. Something about your expression must make him realize you’re being honest, because after a few seconds he nods in response. He looks to the side and then back to you. “You’re actually going to come to the game?” he then asks. You shrug in response, at this point, you’d feel bad for not showing up, so you’re going to be there anyway. “I guess so. Yeah,” you mumble with a little nod.

“Give me a good luck kiss then” he says. You blink once, not expecting this, but then comply anyway. You have to stand on your tiptoes to reach his lips, and once you do, you plant a kiss on them. You can feel him smile underneath your lips, and in a low voice he says, “Cute, but you know that’s not what I meant.” His hand reaches for yours and you feel it move to his groin, and you can feel he’s hard already. “You’ve been wearing the same tennis skirts for the past three years. They’ve always given me a nice view of your ass.” His other hand sneaks underneath your skirt as he rests a hand on your spandex short and then gives your ass a squeeze. Of course this is what he brought you in here for. You remember how you spent the past month reflecting on moments just like that. How you spent hours analyzing your relationship with him under the impression that it was over. But with your hand gently palming his crotch in the bathroom stall, you realize how wrong you were.

Could you both get disqualified for this? Anyone could come into the bathroom, and it would be obvious what was happening, even in the stall. Even with these concerns, you sink to your knees without a second thought, as he starts to pull down his shorts. He doesn’t even bother pulling it down fully, just enough to be exposed.

You lick your hand and then place it on the base of his length, getting a whimper from him in response, as you slowly start to move it up and down. You move your lips to his tip, and slowly wrap it around his cock. He moans as you start giving him sloppy sucks and continue to move your hand. He pushes himself deeper into your mouth and you yelp, and this elicits another moan, “God.” His hands reach down to your head. His hands wrap around your hair, holding it, and start to pull your head back and forth. As he continued to thrust in your throat, you felt his public hair brush against your nose. Realizing you’re fully taking him, you move your hand from the base of his dick to cupping his sack with a slight squeeze, which just makes him moan even more. “Don’t stop.” You did your best to match the pace of your squeezes to his thrusts, and after a few minutes of this, he pulled back, just leaving just the tip. You felt him throb around your lips and shortly after he came in your mouth.

He smiles down at you as you swallow, and then pulls you up by the shoulders and kisses you on his lips. His tongue snakes into your mouth and after a minute of tasting himself on your lips, he pulls away and smiles at you. “See you at the game,” he says with a smile, as he then opens the stall door and walks out. You just stand there, as you hear the door to the bathrooms open and close, trying to ignore the growing ache between your legs.

----

You end up getting to the game midway through the first set and sit in the bleachers surrounded by other people. You hope that neither Art nor Patrick can see you, but of course they do. During the break Art smiles and gives you a little wave, and Patrick just flashes a smirk. The same smile he gave you in the men’s bathroom thirty minutes ago and your stomach does a flip. You didn’t get the chance to take care of yourself after that, busy trying to process what happened and denying the fact that you are wet. You’re failing at the latter as you feel your thighs clench at seeing him on the court. The game continues and you feel the ache grow as you watch Patrick play. The way his body moves as he runs to the ball and his grunts as he hits it all seem to make your wetness grow. Your thighs clench as you see his shirt ride up a bit to hit the ball and you catch a glimpse of his abs and happy trail.

The sight makes you lose whatever remaining reason you have, as you get up and mutter sorry as you climb over the other people in the row to get away. You go down the bleachers and walk around until you find the closest bathroom. Once you spot it, you nearly run into it and lock the door. Unlike the bathroom you were in earlier, this one has no stalls. Just for one person, and you feel grateful for the privacy. You walk over to the sink, resting both hands on its sides and slowly leaning on it. You look at yourself for a minute, your face is slightly red and your breathing is labored.

You take a deep breath as you close your eyes and your hand sneaks down between to the ache. Your fingers find your throbbing clit and you start making slow little circles as you think about Patrick on the court. The more you lose yourself in the memory, the more your fingers speed up. The way his biceps flexed. The slight jiggle of his thighs. The abs. The happy trail. Every single grunt. It’s not long before you moan and feel yourself come undone. As you feel yourself come off your high, your eyes shoot open and you look at yourself in the mirror. Your breathing is even more erratic and your face more flushed. A wave of clarity washes over you and then you just feel pathetic.

You wash your hands and splash some water on your face. As you step out of the bathroom, you’re certain that the game is still going on, but don’t feel up to going back and watching. You know Art and Patrick will probably win anyway, and you need to get out of the clothes. As you walk back to the hotel, you’re sure you can smell your arousal.

----

Besides the weird events of the afternoon, your game went well. You won and that placed you third overall. You sip your sprite as you look around the lights that are strung from tree to tree at the Adidas Long Island party. It was being held for Tashi Duncan, who was the winner of the girls single US junior open. Like anyone in the tennis world, you had heard of her before. The next Serena Williams. It was disappointing your game was the same time as hers because you’re sure it would have been amazing to watch her play. Originally, you weren’t planning on coming, but when your parents found out your mom pulled out the one nice dress she made you pack just in case you needed it and insisted you go. After the events of this afternoon and winning your game in the evening, you admitted that the party was a nice distraction and celebration for those things respectively.

Even though the beach area is a bit far from where the party is, you can somewhat see the waves from there. You take another sip of your drink and watch the waves for a moment, before you hear a voice come up from behind you. “It’s pretty right?” you turn to see Art. God does this man have a thing for sneaking up on you. He looks at you with a small smile, and it’s clear he only said that to start a conversation with you.

“Yeah…it is,” you respond with a little nod. Your throat feels dry so you take another sip of your drink, and to prevent an awkward silence “Your game was good.”

“Thanks…” he says with a little nod. His eyes glance to the side and then he says in a slow voice, “You left midway.”

“I got a little nervous about my game, so I just went back to the hotel to relax for a bit,” you lie with a little too much ease.

Art nods and it looks like you’re in the clear. It’s not like he could predict the real reason you left anyway. “Congrats on the win,” he then says with a little nod. “I wish I could have come but I was at the..” his voice trails off as he motions to a poster of Tashi hung up across the party.

“Oh..no yeah,” you say, it makes sense he was at that final. “I’m sure that would have been much more interesting,” you add on with a little laugh that just slips out. Art lets out a little laugh too, and it finally seems as if you’ve moved away from the awkwardness all your conversations have.

You both look at the posters of Tashi and relax in the now non-awkward silence between the both of you. It’s short lived, because a minute later you both see Patrick standing by the poster looking at the both of you. You can sense Art tensing up beside you, and you’re sure your reaction is equally fraught. You take a sip of your sprite in an attempt to hide your expression behind the bottle.

Patrick is gripping a coke bottle and looks at both of you with an irritated look. Then his gaze singles in on Art. His expression seems to communicate the words get over here. Art looks at him with an expression that says what? Patrick holds the expression and Art sighs, “I’ll be right back”

You nod as you watch Art walk over to Patrick by the posters. As Art approaches him, Patrick’s gaze goes back to you for a moment but then falls to the ground as if he is unable to make eye contact with you. For a moment you find it hard to believe this is the same man who was shoving his cock down your throat earlier today. His gaze goes to Art again and he immediately starts saying something to him. You take a sip from your drink, and see both boys get lost in conversation, but you’re too far to hear about what. Patrick is probably talking bad about you anyway. You turn to look away and back at the waves. Even though the party is outside, it suddenly feels too claustrophobic to any longer be enjoyable.

----

You’ve been walking around the estate for the past ten minutes to get rid of the feeling. It’s a bit chilly, but is nice enough to just wander around aimlessly. “Hey!” you hear a woman’s voice call out in the distance followed by your name. You turn to see Tashi Duncan walking towards you. Now this had to be the most surprising part of that night. You give a small smile and wave as she gets closer.

Once she’s standing by you she says, “I didn’t know you came.” And you didn’t expect her to know who you were so you were both surprised. You shrug and say, “Well thought I would stop by.”

“It’s nice right,” she comments as she begins to walk and looks out at the water in the distance. You nod in response and get the feeling that she wants you to walk alongside her, so you do. “Yeah…You look nice,” you tell her, unsure what else to say, “Thanks. You do too,” she says with another smile as she looks at you. You know she’s just returning the compliment for the sake of it, but you smile in response anyway. After a moment she says, “I actually wanted to talk to you.”

“Oh?” you respond, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. This whole day feels like one long fever drink. “I’m going to Stanford too,” she explains. “You’re one of the names they mentioned when I committed.” You nod in response. You have a vague memory of a Stanford representative emailing you with a list of others who were going to play alongside you, but you didn’t really take the time to go through it. As long as you had your full ride, you couldn’t care less. Before you can respond, she speaks again. “Thought maybe I could get your number or email, so we could talk. You know, get to know each other.”

“Oh...yeah...of course” you say a little awkwardly. You say your number and then add on “My email is just my full name at Gmail dot com” She nods with a smile, but before either of you say anything else, something catches Tashi’s eye. Then you see her waving to someone in the distance. Your eyes follow her gaze to Patrick and Art on a bench. They knew each other? All you wanted to do was run in the other direction. She starts to walk towards them, and you trail behind her, feeling too awkward to walk away. Patrick’s eyes lock on you for a moment, a flicker of surprise on his face. Art just smiles seeing both of you walk over.

As soon as you both are close enough, Art begins talking but you’re unable to pay attention. You find your eyes downcast, as all three of them engage in a conversation. You feel unbearably warm even though the night air is chilly. Your eyes glance at Patrick and then dart away. You feel both the urge to step closer to him and walk away.

Suddenly they all get up and start to walk, but you’re still standing there. Tashi turns around and calls your name. You look up and hear her add, “You coming?” All three of them look at you waiting for an answer, but you lock eyes with Patrick who’s jaw seems to tick as soon as you do. Your gaze goes back to Tashi. “Sorry, yeah,” you say as you walk to them.

----

Once again you find yourself completely zoning out while the rest of them are engaged in some conversation. It’s like you’re not even there. You sit on a rock by the water, reaching your hand down to feel it. You don’t even bother looking at the direction of the rest of them, knowing your eyes would lock in on Patrick again.

“What do you think?” you hear Tashi ask as she turns to face you. You turn to her, your face blank, having no clue what they were talking about. Once she registers the confusion, she adds “About tennis being a relationship?”

You’re not even given a chance to respond before Patrick goes, “Looks like it’s someone’s bed time.” No one is amused by the comment. Art looks at his cigarette and Tashi rolls her eyes at him. Thankfully, when Tashi turns back to you, waiting for an answer, you realize Patrick’s comment has provided you with a way out of this. “Yeah…I’m feeling a bit tired…I should probably get back to the hotel,” you say as you stand up.

Tashi’s lips press together as she looks at you, you assume she is judging you, so you look away and brush some sand off your dress. “Oh” Art says as he looks at you, with a little nod. Patrick gives Art a look from the side of his eye, but then looks at you as he brings a cigarette up to his lips.

“Yeah…I’m leaving tomorrow so...” your voice trails off as you say it, not really sure why you added that part. You doubt that any of them care.

“See you at school,” Tashi then says.

You give her a wave and a small smile back, as you walk away from the three of them on the beach.

----

You’re unable to sleep. It’s around one am. Your parents are fast asleep on their side of the hotel room, but you're too restless to do so. You pick up your phone and see a few new messages.

Patrick: That was the same dress you wore for the formal in sophomore year. I can’t believe you still have it. (sent 1:07 AM, 07/24/06)

You can hear his voice when you read it. You can imagine the little laugh after he says it. You then see there is one more message.

Patrick: You looked cute. Wish I could have fucked you in it. (sent 1:08 AM, 07/24/06)

You roll your eyes but find yourself smiling anyway.

You: Night Patrick (sent 1:10 AM, 07/24/06)

Patrick: Night ;) (sent 1:10 AM, 07/24/06)

----

The rest of your summer was spent messaging Tashi. She wasn’t lying when she said she wanted to get to know you. You got an email from her as soon as you got home from the open, and soon that turned into exchanging messages everyday with each other. Your conversations ranged from tennis to other things, like about your family and your other interests. It was new to have someone so interested in you. You had to admit, it was a nice feeling, even if you didn’t understand where it came from.

Tashi: You know you never talk about the academy. (sent 2:45 PM, 08/09/06)

You: Don’t have much to say. (sent 2:45 PM, 08/09/06)

Tashi: Really? (sent 2:46 PM, 08/09/06)

You don’t want to rehash your time there. You don’t want to think about that. And you especially don’t want to think about Patrick either. After that day at the junior open, you only heard from him once, through a message asking how your summer has been. He sent no response when you said fine and asked how he had been. You’re not even sure why you were talking about the academy with Tashi. Why did she suddenly seem interested?

You: I just didn’t have a great time there. Just didn’t have many friends. (sent 2:50 PM, 08/09/06)

A safe response. Enough of an explanation, without any details.

Tashi: Oh (sent 2:51 PM, 08/09/06)

You: Being the poor scholarship kid and stuff. (sent 2:52 PM, 08/09/06)

You decide to add on for good measure.

Tashi: Oh yeah, it makes sense. It’ll make a great story when you go pro tho. Who doesn’t love an underdog. (sent 2:55 PM, 08/09/06)

Somehow Tashi is under the impression that you will eventually go pro. You’re not exactly sure when or how this assumption formed, but she mentions it so casually you don’t want to tell her that you’re unsure about this.

You: True. (sent 2:56 PM, 08/09/06)

You stare at your phone and then quickly send another message.

You: You’re curious about the academy? (sent 2:56 PM, 08/09/06)

Tashi: I was talking about it with Patrick. (sent 2:57 PM, 08/09/06)

You feel your heart drop as you look at the message. You didn’t know they still talked. With Art it would make sense. Another person she’d see around at Stanford, but Patrick? Why was she talking to Patrick?

You: Patrick? (sent 2:57 PM, 08/09/06)

Tashi: We’re kind of going out. (sent 2:57 PM, 08/09/06)

You read the message over again. And then again. They were going out with each other? You feel a weird knot form in your chest. She was going out with Patrick. The same Patrick who bullied you all throughout school? The same Patrick you spent over a year hooking up with you in private? You bite the inside of your cheek as you type back a response.

You: Oh I didn’t know. (sent 2:58 PM, 08/09/06)

Tashi: It’s a long story. (sent 2:58 PM, 08/09/06)

Before you can even send a message back, you get a call from her. She spends the next hour explaining everything. The hotel room. The kiss. The deal. And then the boys’ final. Patrick won her number fair and square. Shortly after she and Patrick went out and then slept together. The knot in your chest only grows as you hear her speak. You do your best to ignore it.

“That's…that’s a lot,” you say, unsure how to even process anything she just said.

“I know,” she says on the other end. She exhales, and then asks, “Anyway, did you buy a fan for your dorm?”

----

“Let’s grab dinner?” Tashi asks as she walks from the court towards you, Art trailing behind her as he wipes his forehead with a towel.

You nod as you grab your backpack. “Yeah let’s go,” you respond.

“Let me change and then we’ll head out,” Tashi says, as she heads into the locker room. Tashi always practiced later than everyone else, a true testament to her passion. Everyone else finished and left an hour ago. Only you and Art stayed back with her, and now you both were the only ones on the court.

Transitioning into college life was easy enough. All that time spent messaging Tashi meant coming into college with a friend. Your classes were interesting and you did well. You became friends with others on the tennis team, although most of your time was spent with Tashi and Art. He always seemed to be following the both of you around, which would have been strange if you didn’t know about the fact he was into Tashi. The fact she was dating Patrick, seemed to have no effect on his attraction.

Your stomach grumbles, and Art hears. He smiles and asks, “Hungry?” You let out a laugh in response and ask, “What gave it away?”

He laughs in response and then he looks at you as if studying his expression for a moment. His face becomes slightly serious and you know he has something to say. “What is it?” you ask. “Nothing,” he says with a shrug, feigning a nonchalance you both know doesn’t exist. “Art,” your voice is more serious now too.

This was bound to happen. You always knew that he would eventually visit them. He was dating Tashi and Art is his best friend. Of course he would come. The thought makes your stomach flip and you bite down on your back teeth.

Your inability to conceptualize Art and Patrick’s friendship, was a large part in why you were able to become friends with Art. But in moments like this, the only thing you could see when you looked at him, was Patrick Zweig’s best friend. Consumed in your thoughts, you say nothing in response. You only even register the silence, when you hear Art say “I should go change too before we go eat.” You nod and watch him walk away.

----

“So Art told you?” Tashi asks from across the bed as she looks up at you from the calculus homework you’re both trying to work through. She doesn’t have to say what she is talking about, you already know what. “Yeah,” you say, still looking at your work.

“I was going to tell you,” she says, with a little shrug, still looking at you. “Is it a big deal?”

“It’s not,” you respond quickly as you try to focus on the problem.

“No I think it is,” she says with a little huff, which causes you to look up from the work. “You act so weird whenever he’s brought up.” You just shrug in response and it’s almost ironic how much you’re proving her point right now. You look back down at the graphs on your paper “He acts like this too,” she then says. Now that gets your attention. You look up again and ask, “He does?”

“Like anytime you come up in conversation he gets weird,” she says with a shrug. They’ve talked about you before? Before you have the chance to process this revelation, she says, “And you both act strange around each other”

“You’ve only ever seen us interact once,” you say with a forced laugh, looking down at the paper again and remembering that night on the beach. “Yeah I know, but still,” she says with a shrug. Then she asks, “Did something happen between the two of you at the academy?”

The right answer to this question: Too much to discuss right now. You just shrug again and say, “We didn’t get along”

Tashi just nods as she mulls over your response. Before she can find some flaw in your answer to probe at, you decide to change the subject by asking, “Did you figure out question 3?”

----

The day Patrick comes to Stanford is a Friday. You go to class, then to practice, and everything is normal until you get a text from Art around seven pm.

Art: He’s here. Meet in my dorm in a half hour? (sent 6:58 PM, 09/15/06)

You: See you then (sent 6:59 PM, 09/15/06)

Tashi had already told you how she wanted all of you to go out together when Patrick came, so you more or less expected a text like this. Even with the expectation, your chest has knots and your stomach flips. You pick at the skin of your cuticles as you walk back to your dorm and once you get there you sit down on the bed trying to create some expectation for the night. Your mind is blank, and you realize you should probably get ready.

You grab some jeans and a nice top, throw it on and then take a look at yourself in the mirror, fixing your hair. A part of you hates yourself for caring how you look right now. But it’s not large enough to stop you from putting on lipstick and eyeliner. You take one last look at yourself before heading out.

When you get to Art’s dorm, you realize you’re the first one to arrive. “Hey,” he says with a smile sitting on the edge of his bed. You walk over with a smile and sit down next to him. You’re about to greet him when your eyes fixate on the picture of him and Patrick on his bedside table. It looks like it was taken about the junior open, with both of them holding the trophy they won. He follows your gaze to it, and you both look at it for a moment. “I actually…” he starts and you turn to him. “I wanted to talk to you about—”

“And here I was thinking that I was early.” Both of you look to the door and see Patrick standing there. There is a flash of annoyance on his face, but it’s quickly covered up with a laugh and a raised eyebrow. Art just looks at Patrick, a mild look of disappointment on his face. “What a warm welcome,” Patrick says sarcastically, which causes the icy look on Art’s face to slowly disappear, a small smile forming instead. Patrick looks at you and you feel your heartbeat speed up just from the look. You think he’s about to pull out one of the insulting nicknames he coined for you at the academy. “Let’s go?” you hear Tashi ask as she walks into the room too. Patrick smiles at her and wraps a hand around her waist. You bite the inside of your cheek. You nod in response, as you walk towards the door. You don’t let yourself look at Patrick, even though you feel his gaze on you. You tell yourself you imagined it.

----

Tashi picked out this bar by campus to go to. As a place that doesn’t check IDs and has cheap drinks. Naturally, it’s full of students. You’re two drinks in and feel slightly drunk. You’re sitting at the bar sipping on your third, talking to some girl from your French literature class. Whatever you said must have been funny, because she is laughing. You laugh with her, before someone taps her on the shoulder and her attention is pulled elsewhere. You look down at your drink as you take another sip. “Looks like someone has friends now.” You turn to see Patrick taking the seat next to you at the bar, he already has a drink in his hand. His voice is playfully teasing and he has a grin on his face. The same expression he’d make when he would hand back a racket of yours he just broke or look up at you from in between your legs. “Well I guess people like me now,” you say, your inhibitions lowered by the alcohol. It’s the first real conversation you had with him all night and you want it to be over already. Your heart beat picks up again. He lets out a little laugh at your response, finding your retort amusing. He’s close enough that you can get the scent of the marlboro reds he smokes and his cologne. His eyes flick from your eyes to your lips and then to your eyes again.

“Didn’t realize you were so close with Tashi,” he then pauses and then in a little more serious voice adds, “Art now too.” You just blink at him in response. You see his jaw tick again, and this along with the change in tone sets off a signal in your head and you sit up a bit straighter as you look at him. You don’t have the chance to get a word as Patrick continues, “I don’t know what the fuck is going on between you and Art, but it ends here okay.” His voice is serious and so is his gaze. He leans in a bit more and his nose bumps yours. It feels as if his stare is burning holes through your head. You were used to Patrick being mean, but this was different. For starters, he was never that rude to you in private after the locker room incident that started your little relationship. And his treatment usually served to mock or humiliate you in some way. This felt as if was putting his foot down about something. “Okay?” he asks again due to your silence. Your heartbeat speeds up even more.

“Okay,” you repeat in a small voice, feeling like a child who is being reprimanded for something. He doesn’t like that you’re friends with Art?

He looks at you as if analyzing your expression. He remains close and his eyes flick down to your lips. For a moment you think he’s going to kiss you. Or drag you to the bar bathroom for a quick fuck. He then just huffs, as he steps back and takes a sip of the drink in his hand. You instantly feel stupid for your previous thoughts. He is dating Tashi. Tashi who is a literal goddess on earth. There is no reason for him to want you anymore. Whatever happened in school is over. The incident at the open was just a weird epilogue. But now it is done.

“You should stop doing that,” he says. You realize his gaze is now directed at your hands. He makes a little motion to where you’ve picked off the skin by your cuticles. “It’s not good for you.” he says, still looking at it. His gaze comes back to you and the minute you both make eye contact he looks away. He looks across the bar and he must see either Tashi or Art because he smiles in that direction and walks away, leaving you alone with your thoughts and your drink.

----

Your head is throbbing and you feel nauseous just thinking about the hangover you’ll probably have tomorrow morning. You can’t remember the last time you were this drunk. Have you ever been this drunk? You can’t even remember how much you had to drink at this point. You manage to stumble out of the bar and the fresh air is so refreshing you smile. It’s a 10 minute walk back to your dorm, you’re sure you can make it. You move slowly, and as you pass by the alleyway by the bar you see Art and Patrick sharing a cigarette. They’re far enough and too immersed in their conversation to see you.

“I can’t believe we’re still talking about this,” you hear Patrick say with a scoff.

“I don’t get why you think it’s such a big deal,” Art responds.

This draws out a laugh from “No you know why I think it’s a big deal, and honestly man thought you were over this.” Patrick says as he takes the cigarette Art is holding and takes a drag. “Aren’t you into Tashi now."

Art scoffs and looks to the side. “Jesus Patrick.” This just makes Patrick laugh. “This is not about Tashi, this is about—”

Patrick cuts him off and goes, “A girl who is and has always been a pathetic loser.” It’s then you realize that the person they’re talking about is you.

Art sighs and takes the cigarette back with a sigh. “I like her.” As his words sink in, your earlier conversation with Patrick makes a lot more sense. It’s too dizzying to think about, and it makes you feel even more exhausted than you already are. You look at the road ahead of you and continue stumbling your way back to the dorm.

----

You spent the rest of the weekend Patrick was on campus in your dorm room. You woke up with an awful hangover and messages from all three of them. Tashi and Art were just about how they didn’t see you leave and asking if you got back to the dorm fine, Patrick’s was something different all together.

Patrick: Don’t forget what we talked about. (sent 9:38 AM, 09/16/06)

You don't respond to him. You wouldn’t even know how if you wanted to. You texted Art and Tashi that you were all fine, just miserably hung over.

Tashi: Want to grab breakfast? (sent 9:45 AM, 09/16/06)

You: Think I want to sleep for some more time. (sent 9:46 AM, 09/16/06)

Until Monday, hanging out with them meant hanging out with Patrick, and that was the last thing you wanted to do. So you told you you just wanted to lie down because of the hangover. Then when she asked if you wanted to hang out again in the evening, you lied about needing to finish a paper for the literature seminar you were taking. After that she must have got the hint, because she left you alone for the rest of the weekend. The next time you saw her or Art was on Monday during tennis practice. No Patrick in sight.

----

Whoever said out of sight, out of mind, was a liar. You desperately wanted things to go back to normal after that weekend, but that ease you felt during your first month at Stanford never fully returned after Patrick’s visit. It’s been a couple weeks since then and Patrick still plagued your thoughts.

Whatever friendship that had formed between you and Art was quickly dying. You couldn’t even look at him without alarm bells in your head going: Walk away! Walk away! Patrick’s words echoed in your ears anytime you looked at him. The distance you had created between Art and Patrick was gone, and when you looked at Art you now could only see Patrick’s best friend staring back. You avoided being alone with him at all costs.

Art: Want to grab breakfast together before class tomorrow? (sent 8:27 PM, 10/02/06)

You: I’ll let you know in the morning! (sent 8:28 PM, 10/02/06)

You’d probably lie about sleeping in or fake some illness to get out of that.

“Is that Art?” Tashi asks from across the bed. You nod and lie, “Just a question about practice.” She nods in response, as she looks back at the homework both of you are working through together. Patrick may have destroyed your friendship with Art, butyour friendship with Tashi was fine.

Although it had become increasingly difficult to avoid the fact she was dating Patrick. After his visit, you could find traces of him all around her room. You can see the little note he left that she pinned to her bulletin board, and as you looked down at your book on the bed, it hit you that Patrick had slept on the bed you currently sit on. That he and Tashi probably had sex there. It makes you feel nauseous and aroused at the same time. You make a mental note to invite Tashi to your dorm room to study next time.

Not to mention, that brief moment you thought something was going to happen between you and Patrick at the bar. The drunken embarrassment you felt at that moment, has turned into sober shame. If Patrick had tried to make a move, you had a sinking feeling that you wouldn’t have stopped it. On the contrary, you probably would have enjoyed it and what type of person does that make you? Nothing had happened but this enough made you feel guilty. Maybe it was for the best that you didn’t have many close friends, so far you were awful at being one.

“You know he likes you, right?” Tashi says with a giggle and draws you out of your thoughts. “Huh?” is all you manage to say back, your mind still not fully present. “Art.” she says with another laugh.

You’re reminded of the conversation you overheard between Art and Patrick behind the bar. It feels more like an alcohol induced hallucination than an actual memory. Even though you heard Art say it, you couldn’t wrap your head around the idea that he liked you. You were hundred percent convinced he still liked Tashi. Always ready to spend time with her and looking at her like she hung the moon in the sky. It was obvious he still liked her. There was the possibility he liked you both, but that felt improbable. Why would he like you both? At the end of the day, it didn’t even matter. You weren’t going to do anything about it.

“Tashi he’s a friend,” you say with a little laugh, hoping that your answer is enough to drop the subject. It isn’t as she just lets out another laugh and goes “What? I'm right.” You sigh and say, “Have you forgotten about what happened in the hotel room?” Tashi rolls her eyes, and makes a dismissive hand wave, “That was months ago.” She doesn’t make any claim to deny that he’s into her, so even she’s aware of it. You just force a laugh in response, which causes Tashi to laugh too. Her laugh elicits an actual laugh from you, and you both sit there like that laughing for a moment. By the time you’re both done, it seems like the topic of Art is no longer on her mind, and you’re beyond grateful for that.

----

You thought that would be the end of that topic, but the next day, as you walk outside the locker room after practice you hear Art and Tashi talking about it. The hallway is curved, but you’re close enough to hear and see them without being overtly visible. You’re sure if they looked in your direction and took a step or two, they’d be able to see you, but neither do.

“I think you should just tell her,” Tashi says, Art just sighs looking to the side. “You’re making this way more complicated than it has to be, and now everything is all awkward. She can barely look at you during practice,” she adds on. “It’s a stupid distraction for both of you, just get over it.”

Art looks at Tashi and goes, “It’s way more complicated than that.” Tashi looks at him with her eyebrows slightly furrowed and an expression that says she doesn’t believe him, Art just adds on, “You weren’t there at the academy. You wouldn’t get it.”

You feel your heart drop at those words. You need to stop the conversation before it can go any further, so you don’t think twice about walking. You wave and Tashi sees you before she can respond.

“Let’s go eat?” you ask.

Art nods and Tashi replies, “Sure.”

You smile in relief as you all walk to the dining hall in silence.

----

“You’re never going to talk about what happened at the academy are you?” Tashi says later that day as you both walk over to the cinema by campus. You decided to have a movie night, but as you look at her it’s clear that’s the last thing on her mind. You shrug as you continue to walk, “I told you already. It wasn’t fun.” Tashi nods and then says, “But something happened right?” You shrug in response and she looks in front again. For a brief moment you consider telling her everything. Why were you keeping it a secret in the first place? She gets a phone call. She pulls it out and you see it’s from Patrick. Oh right. That’s why. You look away and take a deep breath to maintain composure.

Once you think your face has no emotion on it whatsoever, you look back and tell her, “You take it. I’ll go buy tickets.” She looks at you to check if you’re sure, and you nod. Tashi walks away and you force a little smile as she walks a few steps away to take the call. You stand by the ticket booth outside and get two tickets for the movie Tashi mentioned. You turn and look over to where she is talking on the phone to Patrick and it’s clear she has an unhappy expression on her face. Boredom? Annoyance? Something like a mix of the two. She huffs and you see her walking back towards you.

You offer a small smile and once she’s close enough you ask, “Everything alright?” She lets out a dry laugh and takes a ticket from your hand, She walks in and you follow alongside her, as she says “Patrick called to complain…again.” You feel your stomach do a flip and it’s clear that she has more to say. It’s utterly pathetic how curious you feel. You remain silent as she continues. “He lost another match today.” She scoffs and shakes her head. “I don’t even know why he calls to tell me this shit, anytime I try to offer him something constructive he starts acting like I’m being a bitch.” Her voice shows she is annoyed, you nod in response. “It’s like he doesn’t even care,” she says and you’re unsure if she’s talking about Patrick’s attitude towards tennis or her.

“Sorry,” you say softly to make her feel better. She just sighs, shaking her head, “Don’t apologize” She then smiles looking at you, “Anyway, you actually take my advice.” True. Tashi always had pointers. Small things she’d notice you thought you could improve. You knew you weren’t a perfect player, but compared to the insults you got from your classmates during your time at the academy, her comments were actual feedback. And ones that paid off. Even your coaches know you’ve been playing better. You’re not surprised Patrick wasn’t listening. Never the one to see his own faults. You could understand why Tashi was annoyed.

You smile back in response to her with a little shrug. “Too bad you’re going to be a star player. You would have made one hell of a coach,” you joke to lighten the mood and change the subject. Tashi laughs too and then sighs, “Anyway he just called for that and to say he’s coming in two week for a visit,” she says as you both walk into where the movie is playing. You’re grateful the darkness of the room makes it near impossible for her to see your face because you can feel your face drop at her words.

----

You’re a tennis player, you’re allowed to look at ATP rankings, you remind yourself as you sit in front of the computer in the library. After the night at the movies a couple days ago, your thoughts about Patrick became debilitating. Just thinking about the fact that he’d be back on campus so soon made you feel dizzy to think about.

You originally came to the library to use the computer to search up some facts about an author. It was research for an essay you have to write for your literature of the twentieth century class. Even as you tried to focus on the information in front of you, your mind went back to Patrick. So here you were, scrolling down the list of players on the ATP rankings website to find his name. Your eyes dart around you a little bit, as if to check no one can see. What is wrong with you? You were acting like a child. It takes you sometime, but you finally find Patrick’s stats. He’s low in the rankings, which was somewhat expected considering he just started going on tour, but like Tashi said he was losing games.

“Hey,” you hear from behind you. You nearly jump as you close the ATP tab and turn around to see Art standing behind you. Why were you even surprised at this point? “Sorry didn’t mean to startle you,” he says with a small, yet forced smile, as his eyes dart from in between the screen to you. Did he see the ATP tab you just closed out? You force a little laugh, “I should buy you a bell for your birthday.” It’s a joke and he lets out a little laugh, as he pulls out the seat next to you and sits down.

“So…” you start. He must have finally realized that the only way to talk to you alone, was by sneaking up on you. And well now you were effectively trapped, so you had to hear whatever he desperately wanted to say. You had a feeling it had to do about his supposed feelings for you, but you just wanted to get this over with. Patrick’s words repeat in your head and you do your best to keep a straight face.

Art looks at you and shrugs, “I wanted to talk about…” You just blink as he is unable to finish his sentence. He sighs and then says, “I know why it’s awkward between us.” You brace yourself with a little nod. “It’s because of the bullying.”

You look at him blank for a moment. His answer confuses you, mostly because he never actually did anything to you. He was a bystander at best. Before you can respond he continues. “It’s been weird ever since Patrick came, and honestly it makes sense,” he pauses. “I guess it must have brought up some bad memories.” Well it did bring up memories. Some bad (him destroying your possessions, the names he teased you with) and some good (him eating you out, riding him in the back of his car). All intense. You just nod in response, curious to where this is going. “I know…I should have done more back.”

“You didn’t–” you start but are cut off before you finish. “No, don't try to brush it off,” he says. “Patrick is my best friend, but he was an asshole to you. I’m sorry I never said anything to stop it.” You look at him for a little moment. An apology was the last thing you expected right now. You don’t even know how to respond. Luckily you don’t have to, you see his lips part slightly and you realize he isn’t done. In a small, vulnerable voice he adds, “If I could back and change things. I would.” He pauses and then adds,”It just…can be hard to say no to him.” Now that you understood, more than you could ever let Art know. “Yeah…Yeah I get that.” you whisper with a little nod. You both sit in the silence for a library for a moment, a sense of mutual understanding forming between both of you.

He’s the first to break the silence by saying your name in the same quiet voice “Honestly, I really like you.” The conversation has headed in the direction you originally expected, except after everything he said before you feel too tired to discuss this now. You don’t want to talk about this now. “Art…” you start, with your voice trailing off. “I like you,” he says again, “I just never acted on it because of well…you know.” You just stare at him, looking to the side and then back at him. “But Tashi?” you ask in a small voice. It’s not like you really care about his feelings for Tashi. That’s the most logical part of all of this, but you feel the need to ask anyway. Pure curiosity more than anything else. “I liked Tashi,” he says slowly, but his voice falters slightly when he says liked. As if he couldn’t decide between using the present or the past tense. He continues, “but I like you. I have since junior year.” You hate how your mind instantly goes to Patrick, but how could it not? That was when your relationship with him started. Art has liked you since then too?

“I was thinking I could take you out?” he asks. No No No NO, a voice in your brain says. You shift in your seat, and it’s clear that Art has picked up on some discomfort. “Like dinner or a movie,” he adds. You look at him. You remember what Patrick said and take a deep breath as you try to think of the nicest way to let him down. Art’s jaw ticks at this and he then sighs. “If you don’t want to go out with me because you don’t like me, that’s fine. But please don’t say no because of the past,” he then says looking at you. Before you can respond, he stands up and with a shrug says, “Just think about it.” He walks away, and you turn back to the computer screen open to an article on the works of Laurence Durrell. You exit out of it as you gather your things. This paper was now the least of your worries.

----

Since you got back to your dorm from the library, you’ve been laying down on your bed staring at the ceiling. Patrick’s voice remains in your head, but so does Art’s. Don’t say no because of the past. Isn’t that what you were doing? The entirety of your time at the academy was dictated by Patrick in one way or another. Maybe it was just a habit at this point to let him do so, but Patrick wasn’t here and the academy was the past. You had no reason to do what he said. Regardles, for some reason going out with Art still felt like a betrayal. Naturally, going against what Patrick said to do would be a betrayal to him, but this felt like a betrayal to yourself. It was a new feeling. Never once did you feel it with Patrick, but shouldn't sleeping with your bully feellike a bigger betrayal to yourself than going on a date with a bystander to it?

You reach for the phone on your side table. You slowly type out the message on your small flip phone, and then click send.

You: So when do you want to go out? (sent 9:10 PM, 10/05/06)

He responds after a minute.

Art: How does tomorrow night sound? (sent 9:11 PM, 10/05/06)

----

“I don’t understand what you have against the sequels,” Art says with a laugh as you walk down the dorm hallway. You both had decided to get dinner together. It was easy to talk to him and it felt like you were transported back to those first couple weeks at Stanford before Patrick’s visit when there was no awkwardness between you two. You were anxious about the date. With Patrick, everytime you met up it was about hooking up, nothing more, so this was your first ever actual date. Now that it’s done, and you both walk back to your dorm rooms, you can’t ever remember why you felt like it wouldn’t go well. Art is sweet. Art likes you. It all went fine.

“I have nothing against them,” you respond, “I just prefer the original Star Wars movies.” You say as you reach the door to his dorm room. Art stands beside you as he shrugs. “Okay fair,” he says with a smile. He swallows and then looks at his dorm and then yours. Your dorm is in a different building, but you wanted to walk with Art to his anyway because it was first on the route back. “Do you want to come inside?” he asks, looking intently. You look at him without saying anything for a moment, as you register the look. His expression asks: Do you want to have sex?

You couldn’t deny that Art was handsome. With his smile and golden curls, he looked like what you’d imagine if Prince Charming walked out of a fairy tale and decided he wanted to play tennis. The betrayed feeling from earlier gnaws at you, but you decide to nod with a small smile anyway. The last time you had sex was with Patrick the day before you graduated from the academy in the back of his car. That was months ago. You needed a release.

Art smiles as he reaches for the key to open the door to his room. He unlocks it and opens the door for you. You walk in and take a look around the dorm room you’ve already been in plenty of times. When you hear the door close around, you turn around to face Art, whose lips automatically come down on yours. His tongue snakes his way into your mouth, but the kiss is still gentle. Much more gentle than anything with Patrick. You move your hands to his shoulders to push Patrick out of your brain and focus on Art in the present. You feel his hands reach down to the buttons of your blouse as you continue to kiss, removing one by one, and then pushing it off to the floor. He pulls away and takes a look at you in the lace bra, with a smile and a lustful gaze. You smile back, as he pulls off his shirt and reaches down to unzip his jeans. You follow his lead and unzip yours as well, before slowly kicking them off. Then your hands move to unclasp your bra and let it fall to the floor.

He smiles at the sight and leans in to kiss you again. While still kissing, you both stumble backwards over to the bed, you falling down on it and he on top of you. He pulls away from your lips to trail kisses down your neck to your breast. His tongue circled one of your nipples, and you gasped at the wet and pleasant sensation. You felt your hands move to his hair as he continued doing so, gently tugging on it as you rocked your core against his groin. Only the thin cloth of your panties and his boxers remained as a barrier between the both of you. He groaned at the sensation. You felt the vibration of it briefly on your breast, but he soon pulled away and started trailing down even lower.

He kissed down your body murmuring how pretty you were, until he was stationed between your legs. He looked up at you, and you looked down at him with half lidded eyes. He sat on his knees then as he reached to pull down your panties. He tosses them to the side of the bed, and once again he gets back in between your legs. You feel him plant kisses against your core. You whine at the sensation, enough touch to tease, but not to really please you. Hearing your want, Art’s tongue darts out in between your folds, which quickly turn your whines into moans. You felt his tongue encircle your clit, and a finger tease your cunt. While he started out slow, his pace picked up. Always maintaining a steady rhythm. Each movement of his tongue felt controlled and deliberate, a stark contrast to the messy way Patrick would eat you out. The minute the thought comes into your head. You force your eyes open to look down at Art, to ground yourself in the moment. You see his gaze is already on you, and as you make eye contact, he slowly starts to speed up. He pushes another finger inside you and you gasp. HIs free hand is splayed on your thigh, holding it down. All together, these draw out your orgasm.

As you feel the vibrations through your body, he slowly pulls himself up and plants another kiss against your lips. You can taste yourself on him as he kisses you gently again. “I want you,” he murmurs against your lips, “so badly right now.” You smile at him and whisper back, “okay.” He smiles at your words and sits up as he reaches to the corner table, “I should have a condom in here.” You nod as he pulls open the drawer and finds one. He puts it to the side as he pulls down his boxers and you take a moment just to look at him naked. He rips open the condom packet and you watch him pull it over his cock. It’s the same shade as the rest of his skin, with his tip a subtle pink shade, a little bit longer but not as thick as…You turn your head to the side to prevent yourself from finishing the comparison. Focus on Art, you tell yourself.

The minute it’s on he climbs over you again, and you lay back down. He aligns himself with you, and slowly pushes himself in. He goes inch by inch, and you can feel himself throb even through the condom barrier. Once he is bottomed out, he puts his hands on the side of your head, and he starts to thrust. Just like when he ate you out, he moves at a steady pace, slow at first but slowly picking up speed. You feel the comparison forming in your head, and you bite down on your lip to prevent yourself from making it. You bite down so hard that you taste blood. Art takes this as a sign you want to be kissed, and you feel his lips come down on you again. Although his movements remain gentle, he’s big enough that you still feel it completely. You kiss as he continues to thrust. “God..” he grunts head going up, “You’re so fucking tight.” He says as he continues to thrust, speed picking up again once more. You moan at the feeling. “G..Gonna turn you around,” he says, and you nod as he feels your hand move you from laying down on your back to laying down your stomach. He feels even deeper now, and you feel yourself get closer.

That’s when you see it. Your eyes are half lidded, but open enough to see the picture of Art and Patrick on the bedside table. You squint at it to get a better look, as Art continues to thrust into you with heavy pants. You feel your breathing get shallower as your eyes focus in on the picture. It looks like it’s from after they won the doubles championship at the junior open. Your eyes lock in on Patrick smiling for the snap, and that’s what pushes yourself over the edge. You feel yourself clench and then your orgasm hits you. You close your eyes as you feel it wash over you. Art pushes into you a couple more times and then lets out a grunts as he cums as well. You feel him pull out and fall beside where you lie on the bed. When your eyes finally open again you look again at the picture of both boys and sigh.

----

You probably should have stopped sleeping with Art after that first time, but the sex provided an outlet for all your anxious energy, and that just made your life easier. You met up in the evenings after practice and pretty much always in his dorm (for reasons you do not want to acknowledge). He took you out a couple times too, but there was no label for the relationship. The only person who knew about what was going on between the two of you was Tashi, who you told after the first time it happened.

“You two should just start going out with each other,” she told you one day as you grabbed lunch. “You guys go on dates and sleep together anyway.” You shrugged her off. He tried to bring it up once in bed too, but you ended the conversation by going down on him. You liked this weird gray area both of you were in. It felt comfortable. It felt safe.

----

You sit on the bleachers picking at the skin by your cuticles. With all the time you were spending with Art, the two weeks snuck up on you. Patrick was back. Tashi went into the locker room to change, so it’s just you watching Art and Patrick casually playing a match on the court in front of you. He was supposed to arrive in the evening, not in the afternoon. You had been dreading his visit since the moment you found out, so you planned in advance. After practice, you were going to tell Art and Tashi you had another paper for your literary seminar, and lock yourself in your dorm for the rest of the weekend before Patrick even showed up. Of course this plan was ruined when Patrick showed up in the afternoon, right in the middle of the practice. Now here you are, counting the moments till you could leave while Patrick and Art played.

You feel your fingers sting where you picked at the skin, as you hear Patrick call your name. “C’mon one game? For old times sake.” His tone was mocking, as if he was trying to provoke you. You looked up at him as he walked towards where you sat on the bench, but said nothing. His eyes dart down to the picked skin on your finger. He grimaces at the sight, but says nothing. Quickly bringing a smirk back onto his face as he looked at you. “What? I’ve been told you’re good,” Patrick asks in the same mocking tone. Your ranking among college girls tennis players had gone up, which you knew was more than he could say about his ATP ranking. You just shrug in response. “So what, you're not going to play me?” he then asks.

“Seriously? Practice just ended. Let us have a break,” Art says in a not so subtle attempt to get Patrick to stop. He then offers you a smile.You’re not sure if it's a “Please forgive my asshole friend” smile or a “I’m glad I could stand up for you smile,” but either way you return it with a small smile of your own. Patrick notices, his eyes narrowing slightly and then returning to normal, before telling Art, “You just played with me.” He turns back to you and goes, “C’mon”

He has a shit eating grin on his face and you want to smack it off him, but as you feel all three of them look at you, you realize you’ve been silent this whole time. You just shrug, standing up with your racket. “Sure,” you say as you walk over to the court. His grin grows wider. It makes you wonder if this is a mistake.

You serve the ball, and he hits it. You run and hit it back. He does as well. The ball goes back and forth between the both of you, neither of you missing it. You’re not sure how long it goes on for, but it’s definitely sometime before it stops. You hit it to the corner of the court and before he can run to it, it bounces out. He lets out a sharp exhale as he watches it go.

“I’m gonna serve now,” he says to you, as he takes a ball. He looks at you as he gets ready to do his signature, unique serve, and just smirks. The minute you see it, you once again feel like this is a mistake. The feeling only intensifies when he serves and you miss the ball. He grabs another tennis ball and does it again. You miss. Your eyes dart to where Art watches by the bench and then at Patrick. Feeling more warm all of a sudden. Once more he serves. Again, Miss. You’re not sure how long this goes on for, but when he goes, “Sure you’re a tennis player?” you want nothing more than to get out of there. You walk straight to the bench and pick up your bag. Art looks at you, lips slightly parted as if he wants to say something, but you speak first. “I have a paper I need to finish.” It’s all you say before walking away from the court back in the direction of your dorm room.

You can hear the sound of Patrick laughing behind you, and you bite down on your jaw to prevent yourself from crying as you walk away.

----

You lay down in bed, your eyes still red and puffy. You broke down on the way back, but thankfully far enough from the courts that neither Art or Patrick could see. The crying didn’t stop when you got back to your dorm. Or after your shower. While it wasn’t pouring out of you anymore, tears would come back at random intervals.

While you weren’t actively crying at the moment, it felt like anything could bring the tears back. Your mind drifts back to his afternoon. Of course Patric chose to humiliate you, what else would he have done? You’re shaken out of your thoughts from someone banging on your door. Loud, forceful, and impatient bangs. You slowly sat up in bed, and looked over to it. Another thud. It was too forceful to be either Tashi or Art. Really, there was only one person who’d be this forceful. He was the last person you wanted to see, so you just stared at it. How did Patrick even find your dorm? Maybe if you waited long enough, he’d just leave. You sat for another minute, but the bangs just got louder. He wasn’t leaving and you realized if he kept banging you’re the one who was going to get a noise complaint. You sniffle one more time and wipe your cheeks with the back of your hand, as you walk over to the door. More thuds. You sigh and take one deep exhale, as you open the door.

Patrick is standing there with a scowl and furrowed brows. The minute he realizes the door opened, he pushes himself in and lets the door close behind him. “You’re fucking Art?” His voice is angry and although it comes out like a question, it’s clear he knows the answer. You realize Art must have told him about the two of you. You just stare up in silence, and this causes Patrick to scoff. “What part about our conversation last time made you think it was okay to suck his dick?” His voice is sarcastic and angry, as he takes another step towards you. He smells of a combination of sweat, cologne, and cigarettes. “Answer the question.”

“Get out of my room.” you say in a small voice. Patrick lets out a humorless laugh. “Answer the question,” he repeats. You look at him and feel tears well up again in your eyes. Wasn’t it enough that he humiliated you earlier today? Couldn’t he just leave you alone now? “Why do you care,” you retort with a sniffle. Once again he laughs. “Why do I care? Oh I don’t know, maybe it’s the fact that I turn my back for two minutes and you’re on my best friend’s dick,” he says it a bit louder and he’s so close that his nose bumps yours when he says it.

Your eyebrows furrow. His tone was angry and sarcastic, but above all it made it seem like you were doing something wrong. Something inside of you snaps at this. Your tone is a bit louder and more upset when you say, “So what?” Patrick laughs looking to the side, but you don’t give him the chance to speak. “I’m sorry that your best friend is into me” your voice taking a sarcastic tone. “But that’s not my fault. And I don’t know why you’re so upset about it, but grow the up and leave me the fuck alone.” He huffs and bites, “You know why I’m upset.” You bring your face closer to his, “Really? From where I’m standing, you’re just being an ass.” The tears which formed in your eyes roll down your cheek, and in an angry voice begins,“I told you to–”

“You do not get to tell me what to do!” you exclaim before he can even finish that statement. You swallow, as he just looks at you now slightly stunned at the outburst. “You do not get to tell me what to do,” you repeat in a still angry yet less loud tone. Both of you just stand there, and unsure what else to do, you decide to push him. Your hands go to his chest and then push him back. It’s a childish gesture, and you’re not exactly sure why you did it. Even he looks stunned at the sudden action. Once again you push him. And again. You do it until his back is up against the door of your dorm. You’re breathing much more heavily now and both of you are just staring at each other. Your hands raise up and you keep hitting him on the chest. For a brief moment it feels like you’re transported back to junior year in the locker room before winter break as you just punch his chest. That feeling only grows when you suddenly feel his lips against yours.

It's desperate and messy, but undoubtedly mutual. His tongue licks into your mouth as your hands go to the back of his neck. His hands grab your hips and spin you around, so now your back is against the door. You already know he’s hard, but you fully feel it as he grinds his erection against your core and you moan into his mouth in response. “Fuck” he mutters as his lips move from yours to your neck. You feel his teeth scratch against the skin there, but not enough to leave a mark. Whenever you slept together, he never left marks anywhere visible. His hands move to the underside of your thighs and he pins you up against the door. Your legs instinctively wrap against his waist, and once again he grinds against you, eliciting another moan from both of you. You feel his tongue lick up your cheek, and it takes you a second to realize he is licking up your tears. One of his hands moves up to paw at your tits over the tank you have on and you moan at the sensation. You feel your hands go down to his jeans zipper, and he lets out a chuckle at this, then his lips come crashing down against yours again.

Too lost in the kiss, it takes you a moment to realize he is moving you somewhere, but you soon realize he is carrying you away from the door. Soon you’re thrown onto the bed. His hands go to the zipper you somewhat removed, and he kicks off his jeans. He then goes to take his shirt. You take this as a sign to get naked as well. You kick off your shorts and pull off your tank. Without a bra on and already aroused, your nipples pebble instantly once exposed. Patrick licks his bottom lip and removes his boxers, the last bit of clothing he has on. You take in the sight you didn’t think you’d ever see again, as he crawls on top of you and presses another desperate kiss. His lips part from yours as he whispers, “No one else will make you feel like this.” Before you can respond, you gasp as you feel his hand knead your breast again. Now fully exposed you feel him pinch your nipple. He moves down with his tongue licking over the little bud he just pinched, replacing the jolt of pleasurable pain with just pure pleasure.

He gets back on his knees and grips the base of his cock, aligning himself with you. He pushes just the tip in. Close but not enough. You whine at the sensation. “What?” he asks with a smirll. He moves slightly as if he is going to fully pull out. “Please” you whine. “Please what?” He says, “You gotta use your words.” You whine again and he laughs, and you manage to say “fuck me..please.” He smiles again but doesn’t move. “Who’s the only person that can make you feel this way?” he asks. You look at him and breathlessly say, “you.” He smiles before pushing in fully, muttering, “Fuck I’ve missed this.”

----

From the time you met Patrick, you were sure he was going to hell when he died. Now you were fairly certain you’d also be down there with him. After you both fucked, Patrick left your dorm saying nothing. He put on his clothes and gave you one last look. You both locked eyes and for a moment, you were sure he was going to say something to you, but instead he just let out a deep exhale and walked out. You assumed he wanted to leave as quickly as possible. You felt a knot of guilt in your stomach, so was relieved he left in silence. Sometime after that, you fell asleep in the soiled sheets surrounded by his scent and his cum dripping out of you.

When you woke up the next morning, you sent a message to both Tashi and Art saying you were sick and needed to rest. Along with the fact Patrick was on campus, you knew this lie would guarantee that you’d be left alone for the rest of the weekend. Which was all you wanted. The knot in your stomach grew when you thought about either of them. You tried to occupy yourself in your room by showering, doing work, and reading, but your mind kept drifting back to Patrick. Even once you changed the bedsheets, you felt as if his scent lingered in your dorm. By Saturday night, you felt incapable of thinking about anything besides him and what had happened the night before.

As you laid in bed, you reached over to your phone to check the messages you had been ignoring all day. You had one from your mom just checking up on you, which you quickly responded by saying fine, and messages from Tashi and Art asking how you’re feeling. Both of which you ignored. Then you saw the message from Patrick.

Patrick: You’re still on birth control right? (sent 3:02 PM, 10/16/06)

It was sent a couple hours ago. You assumed some delayed sense of post-nut clarity must have reminded him that you both fucked raw last night.

You: Yes. (sent 8:58 PM, 10/16/06)

Patrick: Okay good. (sent 8:58 PM, 10/16/06)

After a minute or so, you got another message from Patrick.

Patrick: Art said you were feeling sick. (sent 8:59 PM, 10/16/06)

You should have ignored the message, but you found yourself responding before you could stop yourself.

You: Yes? (sent 9:00 PM, 10/16/06)

Patrick: Like for real? Or because… (sent 9:00 PM, 10/16/06)

Your eyes rolled at the screen.

You: What do you think? (sent 9:01 PM, 10/16/06)

Patrick: ;) (sent 9:01 PM, 10/16/06)

You read his response and sigh. You put your phone back down on the bed stand table and force yourself to sleep.

----

Although you originally planned to just hideaway for the weekend, you still felt miserable by the time Monday rolled around. You decided to play into the whole sickness thing, and isolate yourself for the next couple days. But by the time Thursday rolled around, you realized you had to get back to your life. You forced yourself to go to practice.

It had been a couple days since Patrick left the campus, but you still felt as if he could jump up from any corner. By the time you got to the courts, you saw Tashi was already playing and Art was watching her with an adoring smile.

You walked over slowly to where he was standing, and he noticed your presence once you were standing next to him. “Hey, Feeling better?” he asks, looking at you. You drop the bag full of your tennis equipment to your feet, and look up at him. The knot in your stomachreturns in full force and you just shrug in response. He nods in response, and you both turn back to look over at Tashi who is playing.

____

“I was thinking that if we win the championships this spring, it would be the perfect time to go pro,” Tashi says as she looks across the dining hall table where you both eat. After the events of Patrick’s last visit, there was a noticeable change in the air. While you knew this was because you fucked her boyfriend, she didn’t. You found reasons to hang out with her less because of it. Always making up some essay that needed to be finished. You felt grateful that when you did spend time with Tashi, she chose to talk about tennis. Although, you couldn’t deny the increased focus on your possible future in professional tennis was draining in its own way. “What do you think?” she asks.

You shrug in response. “I don’t know if I’m ready,” you respond. Tashi lets out a little laugh, raising an eyebrow, “You’re ready.” You shrug as you pick up a piece of fruit with your fork. “No really. You’re ready,” she repeats as if trying to drive the point. “You’re already in the top ten in college rankings, and if you win a couple more games, you would break into the top 5.”

You nod slowly in response as you munch on the fruit. “Yeah…but there’s more to it,” you say with a shrug. Tashi’s eyebrows raise in confusion. “I don’t have the money for that type of life,” you say. You’re not wrong, it’s not like you’d be able to afford to be on the road or pay a coach to help you train. Tashi shrugs, “You should get a sponsorship.” Her tone is casual, as if it’s the easiest thing there is. You’re not necessarily surprised by how nonchalant she is. She has an Adidas sponsorship already and considering how brilliant of a player she is, it probably was not her only offer. You just let out a laugh in response. “What?” Tashi starts again, “You’re a good player. You're cute. And you have a motivating story. You could easily get a sponsorship.”

You let out another small laugh, shaking your head and saying, “I think you think my story is way more motivating than it actually is.” Now Tashi laughs, “Everyone loves an underdog, and with everything that happened to you at the academy–”

You cut her off, “What?” Something about her words make you uneasy. She knows, you think. Tashi looks at you as if she’s been caught, “Well Art…said some people were really awful to you at the academy.”

Art? Art was telling her these things. He said some people? So he didn’t mention Patrick? What else did he mention? Before you can properly start to spiral about those thoughts, you sense someone behind you. Of course, it’s Art. He sits down in the seat next to you, puts his plate on the table. “What are you guys talking about?” he asks as his hand rests on your thigh. Ever since you started sleeping together, he’s been more open with touching you. Both in private and public. You feel slightly queasy when he does, but say nothing.

“Going pro,” you respond quickly to move the subject of the conversation back to the original focus. You hear Art make a hum sound in response and both he and Tashi slip into a conversation about professional tennis.

You take a sip of your gatorade, as you just watch the two of them, not at all paying attention to the conversation. Art was talking about your time at the academy with Tashi, but why? Did she bring it up? Or did he? What reason could he have to talk about it with her? You’re lost in thought when you see Art turn and give you a small smile. You give him one back.

-----

Patrick: I can’t believe you’re still sleeping with Art. (sent 4:08 PM, 10/28/06)

You’re sitting at your desk in your dorm, going over some of your annotations on a short story for class, when you get the message. It’s your first message from him in a couple of weeks. After the text conversation you had the Saturday he was last on campus, he sent nothing else. You reasoned that whatever happened during the visit wouldn’t happen again, and used that to ease the knot of guilt you felt whenever you thought about what happened. You won’t let it happen again. It’s almost ironic that just as you feel yourself moving past it again, he texts you.

You: I don’t know what you’re talking about. (sent 4:10 PM, 10/28/06)

You are aware that you should have ended things with Art a long time ago. After Patrick’s visit, you couldn’t bring yourself to sleep with Art. But you also couldn’t bring yourself to put a definite end to things with him. So while you hadn’t slept with him in sometime, you were still with Art. Your relationship remained in that little gray area you both created, just now without the sex.

Patrick: Yeah sure. (sent 4:11 PM, 10/28/06)

Patrick: Art told me. (sent 4:11 PM, 10/28/06)

Your mind drifts back to when Tashi said Art told her about your time at the academy. Looks like he was talking about you to Patrick too, albeit for completely different reasons. If Patrick thinks you’re still sleeping with Art, then what exactly did Art say? You did not have the time to focus on this. You sigh as you put your phone down. You need to focus on your work, you tell yourself.

It’s only a couple minutes until you hear your phone ring, you pick it up to see it’s a call from Patrick. You let it ring for a minute before picking it up.

“You never responded to my message,” he says immediately. “I’m busy,” you say looking back at the book. Why did you even take this call? “Doing what?” he asks. “So at university you’re given work to do,” you say sarcastically, which just causes him to laugh on the other end. “Yeah okay smartass. Is it like an essay? Homework?”

You roll your eyes. “No just going over notes” He laughs in response and you expect him to make fun of you. “Going over notes is not work,” he says. “Yes they are,” you say with a groan and eye roll. “No, you just choose to do it. Even when you don’t have to,” he says and you can nearly hear the smirk in his voice. “I care about my grades.” As if to remind you he says. “You’re there on a tennis scholarship.” You roll your eyes again, “Well I want to do well.” He lets out a chuckle, “I know. You were like this back then too.” There is a slight pause between the both of you, as you remember the time at the academy. He then adds on, “You’ll do fine anyway.”

You’re not exactly sure how to respond to that. Another moment of silence between both sides. You break it by asking, “Why’d you call?”

“Well I wanted to have phone sex but all this talk about school has made me soft,” he says with a laugh. You wouldn’t put that motive below him, but you can tell from his tone that it’s a joke. After a moment he goes, “I mean, but if you’re up to it–”

You cut him off. “Bye Patrick.” You roll your eyes and hang up.

----

Patrick: I miss your tight fucking cunt so much. (sent 3:02 AM, 11/02/06)

Patrick: I’m throbbing just thinking of it. (sent 3:03 AM, 11/02/06)

After that phone call, Patrick began texting you more regularly. These types of messages were the least surprising. Late at night and overtly sexual. You were pretty sure he was drunk sending them too. This is what you expected from him. You always refrained from answering them. You could not control what Patrick said or did and you were beginning to highly doubt that he felt any guilt about any of this. But you did. And you could control your own actions.

Although, you responded to his other messages. For every sexual conversation he tried having with you, he started three normal ones. He asked questions about your life and told you things about his. Even back when you were hooking up at the academy he never texted you this much, and especially not about these things.

Patrick: You know I think I had a cousin who studied English too (sent 11:22 AM, 11/07/06)

You: Really? (sent 11:22 AM, 11/07/06)

Patrick: Yeah. I think she is a professor now (sent 11:23 AM, 11/07/06)

Patrick: You’re seriously thinking about majoring in English? (sent 11:24 AM, 11/07/06)

You: Yeah. What about it? (sent 11:25 AM, 11/07/06)

Patrick: Why tho? (sent 11:25 AM, 11/07/06)

You: It’s fun. I like to read. (sent 11:26 AM, 11/07/06)

Patrick: Nerd (sent 11:26 AM, 11/07/06)

While many of the messages have a teasing edge to it, it never felt humiliating. It was like he wanted to make you laugh (and he did). The constant back and forth made it feel like new territory, but it would be a lie to say you didn’t like it. It was undoubtedly fun to talk to him like this. Every once in a while, he would also bring up Art in these conversations. Although his earlier anger at the relationship, now has seemed to fade into curiosity.

Patrick: I just don’t understand you’re relationship with him. (sent 1:33 PM, 11/11/06)

You: your* (sent 1:33 PM, 11/11/06)

Patrick: What? (sent 1:33 PM, 11/11/06)

You: Patrick it's your not you're (sent 1:34 PM, 11/11/06)

Patrick: Whatever (sent 1:34 PM, 11/11/06)

Patrick: What do you two even do together? (sent 1:35 PM, 11/11/06)

You: Why do you care? (sent 1:35 PM, 11/11/06)

You couldn’t bring yourself to ask about him and Tashi. You had a feeling that he was glad about this. Regardless of what happened, she was still his girlfriend and your friend. Even if she came up in conversation, neither of you mentioned her by name.

Patrick: She said she’s thinking about going pro if you guys win the championship. (sent 10:48 PM, 11/18/06)

You: Yeah she told me too. (sent 10:48 PM, 11/18/06)

Patrick: How about you? (sent 10:49 PM, 11/18/06)

You: I don’t know if I want to. (sent 10:50 PM, 11/18/06)

You stared at the message before clicking send. It was your first time directly admitting the fact that you didn’t know what part tennis would play in the future.

Patrick: Seriously? (sent 10:51 PM, 11/18/06)

You: Honestly, I don’t see the point. (sent 10:52 PM, 11/18/06)

Patrick: You’ve always been a great player. (sent 10:52 PM, 11/18/06)

You don’t know how to respond to that message. You just stare at it. He once broke your racket and left you a note to say that replacing it would be a waste of your parent’s money because of how bad you were. And now he is saying you’ve always been a great player? You see another message pop back up.

Patrick: And I don’t think your English degree is going to be a great fall back. (sent 10:55 PM, 11/18/06)

That was easier to respond to.

You: Fuck you. (sent 10:55 PM, 11/18/06)

----

“Everything okay?” Art asks as he stops walking and turns to look at you. You, Tashi, and Art were all walking together to the tennis courts. Both of them were a little ahead of you lost in conversation, while you trailed behind on your phone. Patrick had told you something about his last match. You drop your phone into your pocket and nod in response. Suddenly, it’s weight in your pocket felt like a rock dragging you down.

By the time November rolled around, your workload increased and you were grateful for that. It meant more of a reason to stay in your dorm. You were only really seeing Art and Tashi at practice and games now. You now no longer asked to do homework with her and found excuses to avoid going out with him. Although, you doubt they were disappointed, considering the both of them started to spend more time together.

“Yeah, yeah,” all good, as you take a couple steps to walk beside them.

----

Patrick: I’m coming to visit Stanford this weekend. (sent 10:01 AM, 11/25/06)

----

Considering Patrick’s visit you thought you’d spend the entire weekend in your dorm again. While you were still texting him, you didn’t want a repeat of last time. It was okay to talk, but nothing else. The only way to avoid anything from happening was to stay in your dorm, but when Tashi saw your ranking in the college girls tennis circuit list move up to fourth, she insisted on going out. So here you were at a frat party. Thankfully, it was Saturday and Patrick would leave on Sunday. You were able to avoid him up until you all had to meet up to go to the party.

While he seemed friendly over text, the first thing he said when he saw you was, “Looks like someone is taking the whole Cinderella thing too seriously.” Not his worst jab, but still said in a tone that felt humilating. Art had just shot him a look and Tashi rolled her eyes. You said nothing in response to him and remained silent on the rest of the walk to the frat house. Now here you were at the Frat party, in some corner of the house, trying to bide the time with some drink until you felt it was appropriate to run back to your dorm.

“You look nice,” you hear a voice say next to you. You take a sip from your red solo cup and turn to see a random frat guy, leaning in to talk to you. You just smile in response, hoping the conversation will end. “I haven’t seen you around here before,” he continues. While you enjoyed drinking, you weren’t a fan of how claustrophobic frat parties felt. “Uh well,” you say with a little shrug. Although there was nothing remotely entertaining about it, he laughs and leans in and asks, “So...you here with someone?”

Before you have the chance to respond, you hear, “With her friends. Who is looking for her right now” You turn to see Patrick standing behind you, looking at the frat guy. “C’mon,” he says as he grabs your hand and leads you somewhere away from the corner you were just in.

You follow him without saying anything else. It’s clear he isn’t taking you to Art or Tashi, as you wander down a dimly lit hallway. You look around to see if anyone can see you, but you’re both alone. This hall may be the only empty place in the entire frat house. He pushes open a door and pulls you in, he smirks at you, and you realize he’s taken you to some bathroom. You look at it, and place your drink down on the side of the counter.

“You look really nice,” he says looking at you. A complete 180 from earlier, but what else is new? You look down at the dress, as if you’ve forgotten what you’re wearing. “I’ve never seen you wear that before.” His fingers move to play with the slight lace on the hem of the dress. He smells of cheap alcohol and kool-aid, but you can still faintly smell his cologne.

“It’s new,” you say looking at him. He steps closer, his hands still on the lace, and you feel your heartbeat pick up, and thighs clench. You’re sure he notices. He doesn’t make a comment on it, as he nods. “The lace is nice.” He says looking back up at you. You lean your back against the sink counter, and you slowly feel his hands push the hem of your dress up. You should smack his hands away, but you don’t.

He holds the dress up by your hips, as he looks down at the lace of your panties. “I like that lace too,” he says as he lets one finger touch it. His hands move underneath your thighs and lifts you onto the sink counter. He leans down to kiss you, but not for long as he slowly starts trailing kisses down your body. His hands move to your hips, where the dress is pooled up, to hold down the fabric and hold you. He kisses down on your abdomen, you arch into his touch.

By the time his head is in between your legs, and he looks at the lace of your panties. “You always get wet quick,” he says with a smirk as he sees the little wet spot on them. You whimper, as you feel him lick you over your panties. He chuckles right into your core as you do. He gives you one more tortuous lick over your panties, before pulling them down and putting his tongue where you really want it. His hands are splayed on your thighs to keep you open. “God you taste amazing,” he mutters against your folds as his tongue continues to eat you out. It’s all messy as he spreads his saliva with your arousal and the sound of his tongue against your dripping cunt is obscene. His nose bumps into your clit, which elicits more moans from you. You’re barely on the counter, but his hands hold you in place. You feel his tongue slip down to your other hole, and you shiver, but he quickly moves back up to your cunt. You feel yourself rock against his face. “You’re so desperate,” he chuckles again, “Slut.” His tongue moves a little faster, and your orgasm follows through.

Before you can let the intense pleasure sink in, he is pulling you off the sink counter, and is spinning you around. Your hands grip the sides of the counter, as his hands go to your waist, you feel him rock his erection against you as he groans. You can hear the sound of him unzipping his jeans and the shuffle of the denim as he pulls it down. “Look at you little tennis star,” he says as he pulls down his boxers. “Bent over a bathroom sink for me.” His words send a jolt of arousal down your body, you feel his erection press into your skin. “Fourth is impressive tho,” he whispers against your ear, “I should fuck you with my racket. Maybe your luck will rub off on it,” You feel his tongue dart out and lick the lobe, and you again feel yourself aroused at his words. He pushes your dress up a little bit, and you can feel him guide his cock to your cunt. “Look in the mirror,” he whispers to you. Your eyes look at the reflection of both of you. He smirks from behind you, as he pushes into you. You both moan simultaneously. You feel grateful no one is around, because you’re sure you both could be heard through the door. You feel your eyes go half lidded as he continues to pound into you. “No,” he says with a grunt. One of his hands moves to your neck while the other remains on your lap. His hand presses down into your neck to hold in place. “Watch,” he commands, and your eyes return to the reflection of you both in the mirror. You can see he is watching too, as he continues to hold down on your neck. “I’m..” you feel yourself start to say, but his hand on your throat makes it too hard to speak. “I know..” he grunts, as he continues, “Me too.” He goes a little faster, and with one long grunt, you feel him spill into you. He is panting now, but he continues to thrust until you clench around him and come. You feel slightly light headed as it rips through you, and grip onto the side of the counter as you close your eyes to. His hand moves from your neck and you feel his head rest on the counter on top of yours. His finger softly rubs where you last picked the skin from it.

After a moment of just standing like that, he slowly moves to kneel beside you. You think he is about to do something else, but you feel him pull up your panties as he stands up. He pulls your dress down, and takes a deep breath before going to pull up his own boxers and pants. Feeling much more grounded, you open your eyes and see him looking at you in the mirror, biting the inside of his cheek. “You okay?” he asks. You nod in response, unsure why he is asking. You can see he has a pensive expression on his face, as he bites down on the side of his lip. "I'm fine," you affirm, out loud this time. Then he slowly nods, as he presses a tender kiss against the back of your neck. “I’ll see you,” he says as he walks out. You slowly pull away from leaning on the counter, but say nothing as you just look at yourself in the mirror.

When you finally decide to walk out, you walk straight back to your dorm.

----

Patrick: How are your classes? (sent 11:01 PM, 12/01/06)

Patrick: I used the right your this time :D (sent 11:01 PM, 12/01/06)

----

Tashi: How is prepping going for finals? (sent 8:12 AM, 12/06/06)

You: Fine. Busy tho. (sent 2:03 PM, 12/06/06)

----

Patrick: Read anything good lately? (sent 2:38, 12/10/06)

Patrick: Or has finals taken up all your time? (sent 2:38 PM, 12/10/06)

----

Art: Can you come over? I want to talk. (sent 6:40 PM, 12/16/06)

You: Maybe later? I have an exam tomorrow morning.(sent 7:10 PM, 12/16/06)

Art: It’s important. I’ll be quick. (sent 7:10 PM, 12/16/06)

You: Oh okay. Give me ten min (sent 7:15 PM, 12/16/06)

----

“So…” Art starts, as you sit down next to him on the bed. You had spent the past couple weeks isolated in your dorm studying. And while finals season was keeping you busy, it was just an excuse to avoid Art and Tashi. After Patrick fucked you at the party, it was impossible to ignore the sense of guilt for your behavior. You didn’t deserve to have Art or Tashi in your life. You were awful. You wanted to avoid all three of them at all costs, and were grateful for the fact that finals gave you a reason to.

Art sits down next to you and you both just look at each other for a moment.

You knew this was about your relationship with him. Or well lack thereof. Without a label, without the sex, and now without seeing him, it wasn’t much of a relationship. You wanted him to be happy, but you couldn't deal with the guilt you felt by just being near him.

“I guess it’s over,” he says in a quiet voice. You nod in response. You have nothing to say as you reach over to give him a hug. Just as quickly as it started, you found it was over.

----

Patrick: Art said he ended things with you. (sent 6:39 PM, 12/20/06)

----

Patrick: Are you ignoring me? (sent 12:47 AM, 12/21/06)

----

Patrick: ??? (sent 2:32 PM, 12/21/06)

----

Mom: Have you finished packing? (sent 10:02 PM, 12/23/06)

You: Almost (sent 10:03 PM, 12/23/06)

A lie. You were currently sitting on the floor of your dorm room, with two open, empty suitcases in front of you. You felt exhausted just thinking about packing, but it was only the twenty third and your flight was on Christmas morning. You figured you had plenty of time to pack. No need to stress your mom out about it.

As you stand up and walk over to your closet to grab some clothes to pack, you hear a knock on the door. It was quick and hurried. The semester technically ended yesterday and nearly everyone had already left. You look at the door, and when you hear another knock, you just assume it’s your RA telling you he was leaving for break.

When you open the door, you’re instead greeted with Patrick just standing there. “Patrick?” you asked surprised, “Wha–”

He cuts you off, as he steps into the dorm, “You were ignoring me.” He says it as if that explains everything. “So you just decided to show up at my door,” you ask with a slight scoff. He shrugs. “I wanted to talk,” he says. You sigh, as you walk back to the closet, and open it. He seriously could not have been this dense to not realize why you were avoiding him. “If this is about what happened–”

Now it’s your turn to cut him off. “Of course it is,” you snap back with a scoff. You move to kneel down by the suitcases as you put it in there. He exhales, running a hand through his hair and says, “Why are you acting like this?” You roll your eyes and sarcastically say, “I wonder why.” He sighs and just watches you pack.

An awkward silence overtakes the room, and you take a deep exhale. “How did you even know I was still here anyway?” you ask to get rid of the quiet. “You always leave Christmas morning,” he says with a shrug. He sits down on the floor across from you, as he looks at your suitcases. Your brows furrow, “Shouldn’t you be home for the holidays too?” His eyes dart up to you, and he shrugs again, “Well I don’t celebrate Christmas.” It’s a skillful deflection of the question but you decide to press, “Well yeah I know that.” You remembered how everyone desperately wanted an invite to his Bar Mitzvah back at the academy (you of course were not invited). “But still,” you say as you wait for his response.

He looks at you, and his face is much more serious now. “Uh..” he starts, “Well my parents are still pretty pissed I decided to not go to college.” Oh. You didn’t know that. He bites on the inside of his cheek, and you decide to change the subject.

“Well you’re right, my flight is on Christmas morning,” you say as you stand up and walk back to the closet. He nods from where he is sitting on the floor. As you grab some clothes you add, “But I haven’t been able to pack because of finals.”

“Need help?” he asks. You turn and look at him. His hands are stretched out towards you and you realize he’s asking to take the clothes. You slowly hand it to him, with a raised eyebrow, “You sure?” He just nods as he places the clothes into your suitcase. “You know these suitcases are pretty old, right?” he says to tease you. And you roll your eyes as you grab more clothes to hand him.

An hour later, you both have finished packing. Taking his help was definitely the smart move, as you knew it would have taken at least another hour to finish up on your own. “Finally done,” you say as you lay down on the rug next to your bed. You feel exhausted and let out a yawn. Patrick is still moving some things around in the suitcase. “You’re pretty good at this, you know?” you say with another yawn, still laying down on the rug.

He lets out a laugh, “Well I have to do it on tour.” He continues to move things from one suitcase to another. He says something about distributing the weight, but you don’t catch it as you feel yourself drift off to sleep.

----

When you wake up the next day, you find yourself in your bed. You sit up and look around. The clock on the wall says it’s noon, and your suitcases have been closed, put up right, and rolled to the corner of the dorm. You feel a pang of disappointment at the fact that you’re all alone, but push it down as you move to dangle your legs off the bed. You move to get up, but as you press your foot down you don’t find the fuzzy texture of your rug. You find Patrick.

“Watch it,” he says groggily, as you look down on him. He rolls from his side to his back to look up at you. “You slept on the floor?” you ask him. “No, I’m laying down here for fun,” he says back sarcastically with a sleepy grin. You roll your eyes as you stand up, carefully avoiding him. “Thanks for moving me to the bed,” you say as you look at him. “Mhm,” he murmurs as he slowly sits up, “Don’t mention it.”

You nod, and feel your stomach slightly rumble. “I’m gonna freshen up and go grab us something to eat from the vending machine,” you say with a nod. He raises an eyebrow, “The vending machine?” You shrug. The dining halls on campus would have already closed for break and you doubted there would be much open considering it was Christmas Eve. “Any Chinese places nearby?” he asks with a shrug. You know one and nod. “We’ll go there. I can drive,” he says. “Okay...” you say your voice trailing off as you walk to the bathroom. “Wait,” he says and you turn around and face him. “I’m kinda turned on by you stepping on me,” he says with a grin. You roll your eyes as you turn around and walk into the bathroom.

----

An hour later, both of you were sitting across from each other at a table in a small Chinese restaurant waiting for your food. Somehow the conversation on the way turned to the fact that you didn’t have a license.

“So what, you take the bus everywhere?” he asks with a laugh. You nod and now he laughs “You can’t be serious.” You roll your eyes, but before you can let out some snarky retort, you feel a vibration in your pocket. You pull it out to see a message from your dad.

Dad: Make sure you set an alarm to wake up for your flight tomorrow. You probably want to leave the dorm by 6. (sent 1:23 PM, 12/24/06)

You: Got it :) (sent 1:23 PM, 12/24/06)

“Everything all good?” Patrick asks, as your attention drifts to your phone from the conversation you both were having. “Yeah, my dad just reminded me to set an alarm for tomorrow,” you say with a small nod. He nods in response as well. A moment of silence passes between the both of you. “They’ve always been like that. I remember,” he then says, eyes going to the side. “Been like what?” you ask, as you put your phone down in your lap. He shrugs. “You know,” he pauses to find the right word, “present.”

You look at him for a moment, unsure how to respond to it. You didn’t have to be a genius to see that Patrick wasn’t close to his parents, but his words said enough about how non-existent that relationship actually was.

“I actually remember seeing them the first time I met you,” he suddenly says. “What?” you respond confused. The first time he met you was when he walked into class. You remember how he instantly sneered at you upon making eye contact. Your parents were nowhere in sight. “Okay well, first time I saw you,” he clarifies. Your brows furrow as he sighs. “They came to drop you off. They kept hugging you and saying how proud they were,” he says with a little hand motion and looks to the side as he does.

You do remember that, but you didn’t know that Patrick saw that. Once again you’re unsure how to respond, but thankfully you don’t have to as the waiter walks over and places your dumplings and noodles on the table. “Thank god,” Patrick says as he grabs a pair of chopsticks. “I’m starving.”

----

You laugh in the car, as Patrick sings along off key to Mariah Carey on the radio. “You’re terrible,” you say with a laugh as you look over to him from your place in the passenger seat. He smirks, eyes still on the road. He then sarcastically says“What? I’m a great singer.” This causes you to laugh again, and he joins in.

After that waiter placed your food, the conversation at the restaurant shifted back to more pleasant things. The food was great and now he was driving you both back to the dorm.

“You know, you’re so much more fun when it’s just us,” he says once he is done laughing. “You’ve always been so quiet in public.” You can feel yourself involuntarily tense at his words. He wasn’t wrong. You were more reserved in public. A habit from your time at the academy. A habit from your time being bullied. Your quiet demeanor in public was his fault. And regardless of these moments between the two of you alone, nothing could change that. He must have had the same thought process, because he then goes, “Shit I didn’t–”

“It’s okay,” you quickly say to cut him off. “I know what you meant.” You turn up the volume on the radio to change the subject. He gets the hint, and neither of you say anything else on the way back.

----

Both of you are sitting on the edge of your bed. Your eyes look around the room to check if there is anything you missed while packing. “I can drive you to the airport tomorrow” he suggests. “Honestly I don’t mind taking the bus,” you respond with a shrug as you turn back to him. His brows furrow and he sighs. “About earlier..” he says, his voice trailing off. You shake your head and say, “Just leave it Patrick.” He sighs more frustrated now, clearly unable to find the words he wants to say. He bites down on his bottom lip, and you register how close you’re both sitting. You decide you should move away, but he places his hand on your thigh to tell you to stay.

His lips reach yours and he kisses you as if he hadn’t seen you in years. It's slower than usual. You feel his tongue explore every part of your mouth. As his hands pull off your sweater and push you back down onto the bed, everything feels a bit different. The way he kisses down your abdomen is still passionate, but not reckless. “You’re so beautiful,” you hear him mutter against your skin. There is no hurry in his actions, and his hands move across your body as if trying to memorize every detail. When his head finds his way in between your legs and pulls down your panties with your teeth, you can feel yourself shiver. He eats you out slowly, his tongue lapping through your folds and around your clit in a way that makes you shiver with each stroke. Your hands go to his hair, and you pull it gently. You can feel him moan against your core, and after a couple more moments of his tongue encircling your clit and protruding into your cunt, you come.

When he climbs back up over your body, he kisses you again. Soon you feel his cock push into you. His thrusts are long and slow. His forehead rests against yours, and you’re both holding eye contact. He tells you again you’re beautiful as he continues. You’re both panting and although it takes more time because of the pace, you both reach your orgasms. He presses a kiss to your forehead, and then rolls to lie down next to you.

Neither of you say anything, as you both just lay there looking up at the ceiling. This was new and neither of you know what to say about it. It’s dark outside now and then finally you hear Patrick whisper, “It’s been two years.” He doesn’t have to say what he’s talking about. Two years since the locker room in junior year. Two years since you guys began all of this. “Yeah…yeah it has,” you whisper back. Your head moves to the crook of his neck and his hand wraps around yours. The heat radiates off his body towards yours and you close your eyes. You’re unsure what time you fall asleep.

----

You’re grateful that you remembered to set the alarm as soon as you got back to the dorm yesterday. The clock goes off at six sharp and you wake up, quickly moving from Patrick’s hold on you to hit the off button. You look over beside you on the bed and see Patrick still asleep, although he must have sensed your movement because he shifts around. It’s the first time either of you have fallen asleep in the same bed. Your mind drifts back to the day before and to how you both ended up sleeping in the bed together. It feels as if some boundary has been crossed.

You slowly move to get dressed. You move on your tiptoes, as he moves again in his sleep. The last thing you want to do is wake him up. You want to leave. Go home. Forget any of this ever happened.

Once you’re ready to leave, you slowly push both suitcases on to the door, and look again at Patrick sleeping in your bed. You walk over to the desk and grab a sticky note and pen. You scribble down Lock up when you leave and place the spare key you’re suddenly beyond grateful you have right next to the note. You sigh as you take one last look at him, and then walk back over to the door to leave.

----

He must have woken up shortly after you left, because you just get on the bus as you get a text from him.

Patrick: Hope you have a good Christmas. (sent 6:23 AM, 12/25/06)

You: Thanks (sent 6:23 AM, 12/25/06)

----

You only heard from him once during break, on New Years.

Patrick: Happy new years! (sent 12:00 AM 01/01/07)

You: Happy new years! (sent 12:01 AM 01/01/07)

You simultaneously loved and hated the silence. With no messages from him, it meant you didn’t have to confront what happened the night before you left. You could do your best to pretend nothing had happened. Although you found it impossible to do so. Your mind kept drifting back to that night, and thus equally hated how there was nothing you could do to find some concrete answers. You didn’t know what to expect from him after that. Or what it meant to him. You couldn’t even process what it meant to you. You’re left with an uneasy sense of deja vu, as you find yourself spending another winter break thinking only about you and Patrick.

----

If you were avoiding Art and Tashi before break, you had essentially ghosted them once you got back. As you returned to campus for the spring semester, you hoped Patrick would leave your mind. But without any answers to the questions you mulled throughout break, he remained at the forefront. This made it impossible to be around either of them. Not to mention, with your breakup – if you could even call it that – with Art, it was back to being awkward.

You only saw them during tennis practice or games, always with an excuse handy to avoid spending any extra time together. Although, once again you sensed that they didn’t mind. During your first week back, after practice one day when you told Tashi you had to drop the film studies elective you both signed up for together, she just shrugged in response. “No worries,” she said casually. Art only made small talk with you before and after practice. If they missed your presence, they made no signs to show it.

In contrast, it started to seem as if Patrick was searching for it. Couple weeks after returning to school, he started texting you again.

Patrick: You got back? (sent 5:43 PM, 01/29/07) You: Yeah. (sent 5:46 PM, 01/29/07)

Patrick: How is it? (sent 5:49 PM, 01/29/07)

You: Good. (sent 5:52 PM, 01/29/07)

He texted as if what happened before break was completely normal. The thought of addressing what happened made your stomach churn, but this was irritating. You were sure your annoyance was clear in your messages.

You: Do you have my spare key? (sent 10:23 AM, 02/04/07)

Patrick: Shit. (sent 10:23 AM, 02/04/07)

Patrick: I think I lost it. (sent 10:23 AM, 02/04/07)

You: Good job. (sent 10:25 AM, 02/04/07)

Patrick: Sorry (sent 10:26 AM, 02/04/07)

And slowly, you couldn’t find it in you to respond at all.

Patrick: I was on campus this weekend and didn’t see you once. (sent 2:32 AM, 02/04/07)

Patrick: Art said you guys don’t really talk anymore. (sent 2:32 AM, 02/04/07)

----

Patrick: I doubt the Stanford English department gives their students this much work. (sent 4:23 PM, 02/08/07)

----

Patrick: I can't believe you're ignoring me again. (sent 8:56 PM, 02/12/07)

----

Patrick: What did you tell her??? (sent 10:56 AM, 02/16/07) Patrick: ??? (sent 1:02 PM, 02/16/07)

----

The day you get the email from Adidas is just a random Thursday in Feburary. At first you thought it was spam, but then you saw the words sponsorship in the subject line. You open the email, and your eyes glaze over. It’s a casual email, saying that they’ve seen you play and that if you were interested they would set up something more formal to discuss with you. It feels surreal and you just stare at the screen, expecting it to disappear when you blink.

If you took it, wouldn’t you have to go pro? You were still unsure if you wanted that. Time gave you no clarity on the subject.

You reread the email from Adidas. Adidas. The company Tashi has a sponsorship from. Suddenly you have a feeling about what happened.

----

You’re sitting next to Tashi on the bleachers. Neither of you are playing in today’s game, but Stanford tennis still insists on all players attending for support. You doubt Tashi minds this rule. She always gets into the game, mumbling little things about the players, regardless of who was playing. These moments were the only times you really talked anymore, it was now or nothing. You look at her and take a deep exhale, “I got an email from Adidas.”

She turns and looks at you, her eyebrow raises but then she smiles, “Really?” You nod in response, “They want to give me a sponsorship.” Her smile just grows, but before she can have a chance to respond, you ask, “Did you tell them something?”

“What?” she asks, looking at you. She lets out a scoff like laugh, but then realizes your expression is serious. “It’s not like Adidas is going to give you a sponsorship just because I asked them too.”

“Yeah but you were–” she cuts you off.

“Well I think you deserve one. Doesn’t mean I could get it for you,” she says with a shrug and head shake, as if to say what did you expect.

“I just don’t understand how else they would–”

“You can’t be serious,” she says with a laugh. She looks at the game and then towards you. “You’re currently ranked fourth in women’s college tennis. Of course you’d be on their radar.” You just look at her blankly. Well when she put it like that it made some sense, but you still felt lost. She sighs and tilts her head, “It’s so tiring watching you try justifying these things.” Your eyebrows furrow and she continues. “You think you’re this awful player, but you’re not,” she pauses, “I mean I understand why tho. The academy really did a number on you.”

You feel yourself get a little more tense, as she brings this up. “Huh?” is all you can say.

“Art told me. About the bullying. About Patrick…” she starts. Before you can even process the fact that Art told her everything, she continues. “It actually made a lot of sense. There was always something off between the two of you. At first I thought maybe you had a crush and that’s why you were avoiding me as well, but what Art said made a lot more sense considering your whole complex with Tennis.” Complex with tennis? What?

“I..well,” you start but are unable to find the words. She continues, “You are a good player tho. You deserve the sponsorship.” You just look at her and nod slowly again, she leans in and with a smile says “Congrats.” Both of you then turn to look back at the game, although it’s the last thing on your mind.

----

Tashi’s words never left your head after that. Your headache only grew after that. Another thing to spend time pondering about. A complex with tennis? What did that even mean? You were also somewhat shocked that Art told her all of that, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to talk to him. The only thing clear to you after the conversation, was the fact that your urge to avoid them all had grown.

It’s around eleven pm and you were walking back from the library. Practice had become a little more intense as you got closer to the end of the season. Between that and the time you had to spend in class, you were staying up later to finish your work. It was all getting to you. Your life had become: class, tennis, work, class, tennis, work. You had three more matches left: Pepperdine, UNC, and Purdue. Then the season would end and you wouldn’t have to worry about tennis until next year. The Adidas email was still unanswered. It was fine. You promised to get around to it eventually.

As you walked on the sidewalk back to your dorm, you started to feel as if you weren’t alone. You turned around and saw a car a little behind you moving slowly. You turn back around without getting a proper look, and grip your backpack strap a little tighter as you decide to walk a little faster. The driver must have realized, because they too started to drive a bit faster. You start to run, but as you’re about to cross the road, the car swerves in front of you and stops. This time you do get a good look. You’d know this car anywhere. You feel frozen in place.

“Get in the car,” Patrick says. His voice is more of an order than a question. You just stare at him. “Get in the car,” he repeats. You look around to see if anyone is there walking over and opening the passenger seat door. Everything happened so quickly, it feels disorientating.

“What–”

You’re not given the chance to finish the sentence as he spits out, “I can’t believe you’re ignoring me again. I thought we were over this.” You just look at him, as he starts to drive, you’re not exactly sure where. You open your mouth to ask, but then he says, “Yeah okay we fucked up. We have been fucking up. But you don’t just get to disappear.”

You watch him, as he continues to drive. “I’ve been busy,” is all you say. He scoffs, “Too busy to respond to my message, but not too busy to tell Tashi about the academy, huh?” he says, leaning in again. Your brows furrow and you start to say “I never–”

He cuts you off once more, “Oh please, cut the crap.” He looks to the side and then to you, “I’m so fucking tired of this.” He is close enough that his nose is touching yours, “How convenient of you to leave out the part where we’ve been sleeping together? Can’t stand not being the victim?” His words aggravate you and you begin, “Patrick–”

He cuts you off again, “The poor scholarship kid. The poor bullied kid.” His tone is mocking and combined with the fact he hasn’t let you get one proper sentence in yet, you find your anger increasing. “I mean it looks like it got you places. Art said you got an Adidas sponsorship. Good for you,” he says with a scoff like laugh. Did Tashi tell Art about it? You shut down the thought. You don’t have the time for it right now.

“Fuck you Patrick,” you bite back, and he laughs again. “Don’t you ever get tired of this? You have everything, and you still act like it’s nothing,” he snaps back.

You scoff and suddenly the car is suffocating. You don’t know where you are, but you’re sure you could figure out how to get back, so you grab the car door to open and leave. Instantly, his hand comes down and clamps down on your arm. He holds you with a tight grip.

“Let go of me,” you say, looking at him. “No,” he retorts back instantly. You try pulling from his grip, but he doesn’t let you go. It doesn’t stop you from trying again. Once again he just says, “No.” You look at him with a laugh, and pull again, but he pulls your arm with enough force that your whole body moves closer to him. The hand you kept on the door handle is pulled away, and without thinking the hand goes to slap Patrick for pulling you.

You weren’t thinking when you did it. It just happened. He just looks at you after the slap, equally surprised. The cheek you hit him on is slightly pinkish, although you didn't hit him hard enough to really hurt. Just enough to sting. His grip on your arm loosens, but you don’t move. You’ve been in this situation enough times to know what is going to happen next. And like every time before, you have no intention of stopping it. It’s no surprise when his lips come crashing down on yours.

Your tongues clash, and your hands move to grip his shoulders. You can feel your nails digging into the muscle there. He moans in your mouth at the sensation, and you feel your arousal grow as he does. As if knowing, his hand goes to slip inside of your pants, gently touching you over the thin fabric of your panties. You whine against his lips at the sensation, and he chuckles. “Such a desperate slut,” he murmers, as he applies a bit more pressure with his fingers as he touches you. “Patrick,” you whimper again, he chuckles at it. You can feel his fingers push away your panties and you feel his middle finger dip into your cunt. It’s long and calloused as he thrusts it in and out of you. The position is insanely uncomfortable; you in the passenger seat, him reaching over the dash, but you’re too needy at this point to care. His thumb runs over your clit as his middle finger continues its motions. You think he is going to dip another finger in, when he suddenly stops. Something in the back of the car catching his eyes.

“Remove the sweats,” he tells you, as he reaches his hand to the back seat to grab something. You do as he says, pulling it down to your ankles. Your panties are still pushed to the side, so you’re exposed. You lean back against the car door, as you see him pull out a tennis racket. You remember his words at the party, and you can see the brief moment of hesitation on your face. It’s so obscene but it just makes you even more aroused, you spread your legs a little more, and his hesitant look is replaced with a smirk. As your arousal drips onto the car seat, his hands reach out to touch your folds, and then he leans over the dash and spits right on your pussy, tennis racket still in hand. The next thing you feel is the handle of the tennis racket sliding into you with ease.

He moves it back and forth, as he watches. “Fuck,” he groans at the sight, as his free hand moves to palm at his dick through his pants. His breathing is labored now. You squirm in the seat as he continues with the racket, your hand moves down to rub little circles over your clit to bring you over the edge faster. “I’m..cl..” your voice trails off before you can finish the sentence. “I know,” he says with a pant. “Let go for me,” and his words bring forth your orgasm as your head goes back against the window and you feel yourself let go.

He smiles as he sees you come undone. You look at him through half lidded eyes, deciding to give yourself a minute before you both continue, wanting to give him a hand or blow job to get him off. But as his eyes drift down to where the tennis racket is, he stares at it for a moment. The smile slowly falls off his face and his other hand moves away from his pants. He pulls the tennis racket out and you sit up. He turns to put the racket in the back again.

“I’ll drive you back,” is all he says after, not making eye contact as he does.

-----

Neither of you say anything afterwards. After what he said, you fixed your panties and pulled up your pants, and he started driving the car back in silence. His eyes are glued to the road, but you turn to look at him every couple minutes. He looks much more solemn, and you find yourself unable to break the silence.

He stops at a red light, and you’re still looking at him as his eyes remain on the road. “I’m…You have every right not to text me,” he suddenly starts. “I don’t…You should probably stop texting me.” His voice is so defeated and small, it’s almost hard to believe this is the same man from ten minutes ago. He starts driving again, and you look out the window.

Wherever that parking lot was, it must not have been far from campus, because before you know it you can see your dorm building in the distance. “You should stop here,” you tell him quietly, not wanting to get too close to the building where someone may see you. He nods as he parks at the end of the road. You pick up your bag to leave, but from the side of your eye you see him face you again.

“Why..I can’t believe you let me do that shit to you,” he says. He is facing you in the passenger seat now, but is unable to look at you. You look at him, feeling a weird knot in your stomach. “Patrick…” you start, but your voice drifts off. You’re not sure why either. “You shouldn’t let me do that shit to you.” His voice is a bit louder and still upset. “God you should fucking hate me,” his eyes look back up to yours. And then in a softer voice he asks, “Why don’t you hate me?”

He has a point. You have every reason to hate him. Sometimes what you feel is strong enough to be hatred, but you know whatever you feel for him isn’t hate. You look away from him towards your dorm building in the distance. There is no straight answer you can provide for him right now, so instead you quietly say, “I should get back.”

He looks where you’re looking and nods with a sigh, saying “Okay…yeah.”

You say nothing else as you get out of the car with your stuff. You have to fight the urge to look back at him as you walk to your dorm.

----

Patrick: Won a couple matches I played with that racket. Maybe it really is lucky now. (sent 7:02 PM, 02/22/06)

Patrick: I hope you're doing well. (sent 7:10 PM, 02/22/06)

You never respond. He doesn’t send anything else.

----

Adidas sent you a follow up email, considering you never responded to the first one. They said they wanted to give you the time to think, but they needed to hear something back. You don’t respond to this email either.

----

The past couple weeks have been the most isolated you’ve been since your time at the academy. It was like you were fourteen again constantly tormented and with no friends. Except this time, the only thing tormenting you were your thoughts. You wanted to just disappear and avoid everything and everyone. You didn’t even have the energy to think about any of it. About Patrick and why you didn’t hate him. About your supposed complex with tennis. Even just remembering what happened over the past couple months was exhausting.

You didn’t talk to anyone. Tashi no longer came up to you in the locker rooms or during practice and games. You didn’t know if she was giving you space after your conversation or if this marked the death of your friendship. This also to think about, even if you were relieved that it made it easier to avoid her presence. You also started to skip class more often. You knew you’d also be skipping practice and games if your scholarship wasn’t dependent on tennis. You’re almost free though. Today is the match against Pepperdine. Then two more, and the season would be done.

You were walking back to your dorm room, when you see them through the dining hall window. Art and Patrick eating churros. You stand and stare at both of them for a moment. Somehow the sight takes you by surprise. You assumed that Patrick was still visiting campus, since he and Tashi were still together. And of course he was still friends with Art, but you couldn’t help but wonder if Patrick figured out if it was Art who told Tashi about everything that happened at the academy.

You still hadn’t confronted Art about that. You still wanted to, but you still found yourself unable to talk to Art. Just like Tashi no longer talked to youi, he no longer seemed to talk to you. The small talk before and after practice, had now just been reduced to the occasional wave. Your eyes go to Patrick. Neither of you were texting anymore. Nor had he randomly showed up to talk to you, like the last two times. For once in your life, Patrick Zweig had actually left you alone.

When both boys notice you're staring through the window, you lock eyes with both of them. Art’s expression is stoic, you couldn’t read it if you tried. Patrick looks slightly surprised and for a moment you think he is about to smile at you, but you don’t wait around to find out. You turn away and walk straight back to your dorm.

----

There’s thirty minutes until the match. You’re dressed in your dorm so you wouldn’t have to bother with the locker room. You're ready to head out, when you hear a knock on your dorm door. You look at it for a minute. You swallow and hope it’s not Patrick, as you open the door. You’re flooded with both relief and disappointment that it’s Art.

“Uh..hey,” you say, seeing him. He nods and gives you a small smile you can tell is forced. “I saw you today, so I thought I’d come over,” he says. The way he looks at you makes you feel as if he knows something. It’s obvious this is all a pretense to talk about something else. While you don’t know what, you know you don’t want to talk about it. As you move to let him walk into your dorm, you quickly say, “I was actually about to head out for the game soon.”

He nods, “me too.” He then looks at you, and his lips part again as if he is about to speak. You have no idea what he is about to say, but you already want this conversation to be over. Without thinking, you speak first, “So Patrick is visiting for the game?”

His lips close, clearly not expecting that. He nods and curtly says, “Tashi invited him.” While this is the same Art you’ve known for years, he suddenly feels much colder. His expression is stony and makes you want to shrink. It dawns on you that this must all be about Tashi. Maybe he was just trying to use what happened to you as a way to get her to break up with Patrick. The thought he would do so is upsetting, and without thinking, you say, “She told me what you said.”

He nods and shrugs, “Well it came up one day.”

“Really?” your voice exposes the fact that you don’t believe it.

He just shrugs in response and shakes his head yes as he does. “I don’t see why it’s a big deal.”

“You don’t see why telling my friend about something like that wasn’t a big deal?” you ask back.

“Are you really her friend anymore?” he asks, which stuns you into silence. He just lets out a little huff, and continues, “And she’s with Patrick. She should know about it.” You stare at him, unsure how to respond. “She should know what type of guy her boyfriend is,” he repeats.

“Patrick is your best friend–”

“I know that,” he cuts you off quickly. This was the most impassioned thing he had said this whole time. “But I’m not going to pretend what he didn’t wasn’t awful.” Maybe it was a little more than just about Tashi. He looks at you for a moment, as if analyzing you, “Why do you?” You stare at him blankly, his voice is calm but cruel in a way that makes you want to scream. “Why do you brush it aside?” His voice sounds as if he is trying to imply something and you find yourself just standing there. “It’s like you’re trying to protect him”

“I’m not,” you say back in a quiet voice. He just shrugs in response, and looks to the side, as he looks like he is about to say something, but he then lets out a humorless laugh. Before you can ask why he did so, he says, “See you at the game.” He takes one last knowing look at you as he walks out of the room.

----

You didn’t have the energy to leave after that. You laid down on your bed for a couple extra minutes, before you realized you would be late if you didn’t leave now. You grabbed your racket and water bottle and headed out to leave the dorm building.

You walk out of the dorm and then the dorm building quickly, but not fast enough to miss the sight of Patrick sitting on the curb. You stop upon seeing him, and he must sense your presence because he turns and looks at you. His back straightens up a little more and you can see his eyes are red. He’s wearing what looks to be Tashi’s shirt, and the scent of weed drifts off him.

He says your name as he scrambles to his feet. “I have to go,” you say, pointing with your racket in the direction of the game. You take a step backwards. You don’t have the time for this. You don’t have the energy for this. “She knows,” he suddenly says.

You can feel your heart drop. “Tashi..she knows about...” He doesn't finish the sentence, but makes a motion between the both of you.

He says something after that, but you’re unable to hear it. Your legs move without you processing the action, and the next thing you find is yourself running to the court where the game is. You can hear Patrick call after you, but he doesn’t follow.

----

Tashi is by the bench, pulling out her racket from the case. You run over to her instantly, the moment she processes your presence she scoffs.

“Tashi–”

She does not let you speak, looking at you with a cold expression. “I don’t know what fucked up dynamic you and Patrick have going on,” she starts, before leaning in slightly in a menacing way. “But keep it away from me.”

You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. It’s not like she would have heard anything you said anyway, the minute she is done speaking she walks away to the court.

You watch her go, as you sink down onto the bench. The items in your hand falling down beside you. The game begins but you’re unable to focus. You just sit there, your fingers going back to picking the skin by your cuticles. You feel as if the ground is spinning and you want nothing to run back to your dorm. Your mind replays the moment with Tashi. The conversation with Art. You hear Patrick’s voice ask why you don’t hate him replaying in your head, and you feel all the memories come rushing back. It’s as if floodgates have been opened and nothing can stop it from pouring out. You let yourself spiral as you feel your heart rate picked up.

You probably would have been like that for the whole game, but then you hear it.

Her scream.

----

It’s all a blur after that. You look up and see Tashi on the ground clutching her knee. You don’t waste a moment before getting up and running to her side, but the minute you get down on your knees beside her, her expression becomes even more upset.

“No!” she says clutching her knee looking at you. “Get away! Get the fuck away!” You just stare as you see her cry, as your coach comes down beside you to calm her down. You see Art run down from the stands, hopping over the net for her. As he moves her head on her lap, you make eye contact with him.

His expression is worried, but also has something else you can’t place. You look back at him, and he looks away from your gaze down at Tashi. Then you realize what the other emotion is. Guilt. Suddenly, the conversation earlier made more sense. He knew. He knew about you and Patrick. He knew and he told her. Your mind races with questions, but you slowly get up realizing you’re only making Tashi more upset. You look at her one last time, before running to the bathroom for some privacy, feeling the tears well up in your eyes as you do.

----

You wipe your tears as you sit in the hallway of the campus' medical center . When you stepped out of the bathroom, you realized that they had already taken her off the court. You assumed she was either brought here or was already taken to the hospital. You couldn't care less about your game after everything, so you left for the medical center instantly. When you arrived, you saw a coach talking to one of the nurses and that confirmed she was here.

The medical center was small. A one floor building, so you knew she was just down the hall, but you couldn't bring yourself to go to her. Why would she want to see you? She hated you now. You were a few feet away, but you may as well have been miles away from her. You still couldn't bring yourself to leave. It was like watching a car crash. Awful. Crushing. Yet absorbing. You just sat on the floor, hugging your knees to your chest, with your head leaning against the wall.

You hear hurried footsteps from the other end of the hallway, and you turn to see Patrick who nearly runs into the room.

“Get out!” you hear Tashi say. You can tell he is trying to say something back, but then you hear Tashi say again to get out. While your position in the hallway prevents you from seeing anything, you can hear it clearly.

“Get the fuck out Patrick!” Art’s voice booms. You just stare at the direction of the door, as you see Patrick walk out dejected. As he steps out he sees you sitting on the floor. Somehow the sight of you makes him look even sadder.

His eyes go down to the floor and he slowly begins walking down the hallway in your direction. You just watch him, as he comes over to you and then slumps down onto the floor next to you. He turns his head to look at you. You stare back in silence.

“I’m sorry,” he then says quietly. His voice barely above a whisper. “For everything.”

You look at him with a small nod and respond, “I know.”

And when he leans in to hug you, you close your eyes and wrap your arms around him as well. Your mind goes blank and you let the enormity sink in. You can’t tell if it makes you feel empty or complete.

author's note: If you got this far, I love you <3 Let me know what you think!

#patrick zweig #tashi duncan #art donaldson #challengers #challengers 2024 #challengers fic #patrick zweig x reader #art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig smut #art donaldson smut #patrick zweig fic #the chain AU

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4unnyr0se · 6 months ago

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❥ tsukishima plays the waiting game

warnings: fem! reader, pre and post timeskip! tsukishima, tsuki gets slapped, reader is a sweetie, yamaguchi and hinata mentioned, tbh its mostly fluff

MDNI | No 18+ content here, I just don't want minors interacting with my blog

word count -> 785

part two

Kei Tsukishima wasn’t the best at showing affection at all. He only liked and respected Yamaguchi, but apart from that, there wasn’t really anyone he thought merited his honest and most sincere loyalty and trust. Sure, he respected Daichi when he was still in high school, but Daichi was his captain. It was different.

Then, you moved to Miyagi and enrolled in Karasuno in mid-April. You were placed in the same class as Yamaguchi and Tsukishima. Apparently, you had scored in the top 1% in your old high school, much to Tsukishima’s chagrin. He assumed you would be just another one of those academic bitches (like himself) who only cared about what directly affected them.

That was the first time Tsukishima was wrong.

You were sickeningly sweet, so much so that many people thought it was just an act. Tsukishima first thought this, too, that a wolf was hiding under that fluffy sheep wool. But no, there wasn’t. You were genuinely nice without ulterior motives, always volunteering to tutor students after class. You even helped Yamaguchi with his English vocabulary and grammar. He didn’t even have to ask! That’s how sweet you were, and Tsukishima hated that. Well, only at first.

He knew he liked you the second you snapped at him, calling him an asshole in front of the entire Karasuno team. He was practicing serves and missed completely, the volleyball slamming into your torso as you walked by the practice gym. Instead of apologizing, he blamed you for being in the way.

Instead of you apologizing for having dared to be in the way of a rouge volleyball, he was met with a cold smack in the face. Vulgar words left your mouth, your face heating up in anger as you called him out for being a stuck-up prick who didn’t care about anyone but himself (and maybe Yamaguchi.) The Karasuno team stood in shock as you screamed at him, your usual friendly and kind demeanor long forgotten. Hinata thought that Tsukishima was absolutely going to murder you, but instead, the lanky blonde just stood there with the tiniest blush on his cheeks. You called him out; you slapped him. The sweetest girl in Karasuno slapped him and humbled him in front of his teammates. You weren’t just an innocent little lamb, you bit. And Tsukishima liked that.

Tsukishima never acted on his urges in high school; he was too busy with class and volleyball and Hinata’s bullshit to worry about romantic relationships. But he caught himself sneaking glances at you throughout high school, no matter where he was. You two were always in the same class, weirdly enough. Graduation eventually came, and lo and behold, the two of you went to Sendai. He was on a semi-volleyball scholarship, and you had a full academic ride because you did. And to his horror, or perhaps delight, you both had the same entry-level statistics class.

He first noticed that you had a sense of personal style that he approved of. Tsukishima had only ever seen you in the Karasuno girl’s school uniform before, so it was a pleasant surprise to see you wearing a spaghetti strap tank top with a wool cardigan and loose jeans. It was…cute.

Tsukishima was taken aback when you walked up to him after class, bowing your head slightly to apologize for screaming at him when you were in high school. He smirked and accepted the apology, pushing your head down further.

“You also slapped me and called me an asshole, remember?”

You became flustered and started apologizing even more, tilting your head with sparkling eyes.

“I know, I’m really sorry. I don’t want any bad blood. How can I make this up to you?”

“Go on a date with me.” It came out of his lips so fast that Tsukishima didn’t have time to cover it up with a cough. How could he let that slip from his lips, he always thought before speaking. He thought before doing anything! He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, looking away in embarrassment. “Go on…just go on a date with me, please. I’ve liked you since high school, moron.”

You smiled and hugged him, squeezing his torso with all your might. Of course, Tsukishima thought this was adorable, he was a foot taller than you. “Of course, I’ll go on a date with you! Where?” You asked as you looked up, the prettiest smile plastered across your shining face. Fuck, Tsukishima was totally screwed. He’d give you the world right then and there if he wasn’t so proud.

“My dorm? Yamaguchi is out with friends for the weekend.”

“Yamaguchi has friends other than you? Damn, he really grew up.”

“Indeed,”

Tsukishima’s side of the dorm was immaculate. Spotless, organized, and decorated with dinosaur posters. It was cute and nerdy, making you smile. Maybe deep down inside, he wasn’t such a jerk.

#haikyuu #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #kei tsukishima #haikyuu fluff

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r2d2lover · 2 months ago

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Healing Touch

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Reader (QuidditchPlayer!Mattheo x Healer!Reader)

Rating: E

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: Unprotected sex, vaginal sex, F/M, fingering, aged-up characters, semi-public sex, Hogwarts Uni AU

Summary:

You give an alternative form of medicine after an injury lands star Quidditch player, Mattheo Riddle, in your care.

Friday nights always brought a familiar routine - milling around the bustling infirmary, secretly hoping for some excitement to break up the monotony. You couldn't help but feel a small twinge of guilt at your thoughts, wishing for someone to get injured during the intense Quidditch game and be sent to you for patching up. But most of the time, it was just a steady stream of students in need of minor first aid and basic pain relief potions after the games. And yet, despite the lack of excitement, you found comfort in these quiet evenings spent with Madam Pomfrey, the kind-hearted matron who ran the infirmary. Your friends may have called it "sad," but you found solace in her company and often lost track of time as you engaged in riveting conversations with her. You were no stranger to the infirmary; you had been under her watchful advisory since secondary school and working your way to a full time job at St. Mungo’s upon your graduation. It was almost therapeutic, in a way, to escape from the chaos of game day and simply unwind with such a wise and motherly figure.

Tonight, however, was different. It started off normal enough, with the most exciting prospect being refusing a stash of Mallowsweet leaves from kids looking to smoke the dried herb. That incident caused Madam Pomfrey to ask you to catalogue the stores, which you did happily while humming to yourself. Right before you could start, the infirmary doors busted open with a bang, startling you from your reverie. A group of students clad in green fangear from hats to painted faces rushed in, supporting a limp figure between them. Your heart raced as you recognized the unconscious form of Mattheo Riddle, his Quidditch robes torn and muddy.

"Bludger to the head," someone shouted as Madam Pomfrey hurried over. You sprang into action from your position, grabbing potions and bandages as the matron directed. For once, your presence wasn't just busywork; you were needed.

Mattheo was carried in on a magic stretcher, curled up in pain and still spilling curses from his bruised lips. If it had been earlier in your youth, you would’ve assumed the Slytherin boy got into some fight. In your apprenticeship years in secondary school, you patched up your fair share of Mattheo Riddle confrontations of both parties. At some point, Mattheo turned himself around by channeling his anger into Quidditch and even ended up scoring a scholarship to the same uni as you. He was still a regular customer of yours, especially since he started setting his sights on playing professionally. And if you were honest with yourself, you liked the conversations you had with him while you held his hand and set a broken appendage with Skelegro or stitched him up after a nasty fall. Though your relationship was transactionally based, you found yourself referring to him as your friend. Mattheo was a natural charmer as well, and you had your fair share of flustered moments on an off-handed comment of his. Even if you preferred the company of Madam Pomfrey on Friday nights, you definitely favored a more flirtatious company.

You unloaded the star Quidditch player onto a hospital bed at the end of the hall for maximum privacy. You dismissed his friends with thanks and told them that they needed to leave if they wanted to see Mattheo get better. As you drew the curtains around Mattheo's bed, you caught a glimpse of his pained expression. Your heart clenched at the sight. Madam Pomfrey bustled over with her wand at the ready, muttering diagnostic spells under her breath.

"Mild concussion, broken arm, and a nasty laceration on his thigh. Nothing we can't handle, but it'll take some time. Fetch the Blood-Replenishing Potion and prepare a Calming Draught. I am going to the pitch to see if there are anymore injuries," Madam Pomfrey announced grimly. You nodded, hurrying to the potions cabinet. As you gathered the necessary vials, you heard Mattheo groan.

"Wha... happened?" Mattheo slurred, trying to sit up. His eyes fluttered open, unfocused and glassy. You shushed him and held up the Calming Draught to his lips, coaxing the liquid into his mouth gently. You raked your fingers through his body to check for any more injuries, silently biting back your breath as you felt how hardened his muscles were. That’s wildly inappropriate, you scolded yourself. You mixed the Calming Draught with the ill-tasting Skelegro, hoping it would disguise the taste enough for him to stomach it. Mattheo was still hazy when you wrapped his arm in a sling and he found comfort in squeezing your arm to ease the pain. Normally, you would never let the identity of your patient cloud your level of care, but Mattheo was just different.

“You took a nasty fall during the game tonight. Hey, I… I’m going to have to remove your pants to get to that cut on your thigh,” You say shakily while slowly and gently peeling back the blood soaked bandage. The medic on the pitch did a haphazard job, which only brought him more pain. Mattheo let out a silent hiss through gritted teeth before he nodded. He tried to use his free hand to help you unlace the front of his uniform, but you waved him aside. With a slung arm, you had no option but to take pity on him. You undid his pants quickly while keeping an eye on his face to gauge his pain. For a man with a broken arm and a deep laceration on his upper thigh, he seemed to be more focused on you undoing his pants. He watched you in a labored mixture of panting and groaning, but he eventually conceded to the pain and threw his head back with his eyes squeezed shut. You held up a drink spiked with Wiggenweld to his lips to distract him from the pain in his leg, but really you were trying to distract yourself from the sinful sight in front of you.

“Bloody hell… Do you think they’ll let me play in the game next week?” Mattheo sipped on the pain relieving potion greedily. You watched him with matched greediness as he licked droplets of the potion off his lips and threw his head back. For your own sanity, you patted the corners of his mouth with a rag. Mattheo wrapped his hand around your arm in what you guessed to be an attempt to steady himself, especially as you turned your focus back to his bloodied pants.

“I’m not sure, but if you let go of my arm, I can try to make sure that you do,” You teased gently, flexing your arm to signal him. Mattheo opened his eyes in embarrassment and released his iron-clad grip on your bicep. Normally, you wouldn’t have noticed, but his hand was so large that it completely wrapped around your arm and choked your blood supply. He apologized sheepishly, then delved his front teeth into his bottom lip while you finally pulled off his pants. “Tell me if it hurts any more, I can give you more Wiggenweld.”

“The pain’s not so bad… it’s more of a mental thing, I think,” Mattheo watched carefully as you started to clean the scape on his thigh. It was a nasty mark, but he seemed proud of it and didn’t regret the scar it would form if it meant securing the championship. You slowly massaged a salve into his skin, which made him shiver and jump.

“Mental?” You questioned without looking up. His words tightened a knot in your stomach but you persisted. Your hands dipped back into the pot of salve to add another layer but Mattheo grabbed your wrist.

“Please, you must hurry up. I don’t think I can handle you rubbing on my thigh much longer. It’s bloody torture,” Mattheo breath hitched as you twisted out of his grip and returned your hand back to his thigh. The knot from before threatened to jump out of your throat at his words, but you weakly laughed it off as you continued applying the cooling paste. The Quidditch player should’ve also won a championship for self-restraint, for even with your hands brushing the edge of his plaid boxers, he was well composed. You figured it was the pain from his injuries to save both of your egos.

“Maybe I like you in a compromising position. Makes you less… godly, I guess,” You joked with a soft smirk. Mattheo made an odd gurgling noise that sounded like a choked groan, but your back was turned to him while looking for a bandage. When you turned back around, Mattheo’s eyes were opened with a thigh-clenching darkness to them. Swallowing dryly, you chose to ignore it and started to bandage up his thigh. Mattheo’s fingers twitched at his side, as if he were trying to reach out. The wicked side of you just wished he would. “Too tight?”

“No, that’s fine... Fuck, maybe we should stop talking,” Mattheo snapped out of whatever trance he was in and sat up.

“I don’t know… what you’re talking about…” You mentally kicked yourself at how timid you sounded. Mattheo leaned forward and grabbed your waist tightly with his free hand. You gasped at the way his fingers dug into your sides and the show of strength it was to make you crash into him. “Mattheo, this is highly inappropriate-!”

“Does that mean you’re going to stop me?” Mattheo’s voice dropped an octave and the bass vibrated your core. You shook your head with a stammer, but still you let Mattheo bring his warm breath from your ear to your jaw.

“Madam Pomfrey- She might-” You struggled to keep your composure as to not give Mattheo the satisfaction. You suppressed a moan with a cough.

“Then you should be quiet, hm, love?” Mattheo grinned against your jaw before dragging his mouth down further. He pulled you against his sling, wincing only slightly as you pressed into his bad arm.

“You don’t even like me,” You said breathily, trying to convince yourself more so than the man trailing kisses down to your collarbones. “You’re just confused… or like… misguided because I healed you.”

“What do you know about me, love?” Mattheo removed his mouth so that he could look at you. He grabbed your face with a conviction that silenced you. His eyes were deliciously glazed with lust and you felt yourself start to slip into his clutches. He strategically placed his mouth anywhere on your face except for your lips. While it was a tantalizing jest, it was a strange reminder that this was just sex for him.

“Mmm… I know that I’m not letting you take me in the infirmary,” You hissed. Mattheo grinned while he pulled you closer onto him and pressed his thigh against your legs. Your body betrayed you and you let out a soft moan.

“"How very stubborn of you..." Mattheo whispered in a low voice as he placed his mouth back on your neck. He attempted to bait you into grinding against him by rutting his thigh deeper into your core. "But... you're not fooling me. I know you're enjoying this just as much as I am..."

“It’s not a matter of enjoyment,” You stammer with a louder moan. Mattheo chuckled with satisfaction.

“Sure it isn't, love," Mattheo mocked, then he tugged free the buttons of your blouse. "Then tell me... why are you making those pretty little noises for me, hm?"

“You’re torturing me,” You pleaded. Mattheo's hand moved with a controlled eagerness, his fingers deftly undoing the buttons of your blouse. His eyes held a glint of satisfaction and mischief as he looked up at you. The intoxicating scent of Mattheo's cologne mixed with the scent of your own arousal filled the air, creating a heady and sensual atmosphere.

"Torture, is it? Well then, allow me to ease your suffering. Consider it repayment?" Mattheo's lips curled into a devilish smirk. “Oh, c’mon. You already took my pants off for me.”

Mattheo’s hand slipped beneath your loosened blouse, fingers tracing along your ribs. You shivered at his touch, your resolve weakening with each passing moment. Mattheo's mouth found yours again, his kiss hungry and demanding. This time, you responded with equal fervor, your hands tangling in his hair. He rolled his fingers into your bra and over your perched nipples. Your back arched involuntarily, pressing your chest further into Mattheo's skilled hands. Your body craved him. He chuckled low in his throat, clearly pleased with your responsiveness.

“Tell me you want this,” Mattheo’s words bubbled in his throat. With the use of only one hand, he made use of the situation and dragged his mouth down to your chest instead. The second his teeth grazed the sensitive skin, you swallowed a loud moan and pulled tightly at his curls. The pain made him growl and he only repeated himself. “Tell me you want me.”

“Do I really need to stroke your ego right now?” I chuckled back a moan. Mattheo bit the skin of your breast, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to be a warning. Your thoughts melted into nothingness as his tongue began to soothe the spot he had just bitten. His hand now delved under your dress hem and his fingers swirled around the top of your panties. He snapped the waistband tauntingly with an eyebrow raised at your insolence.

“You could always stroke something else,” Mattheo murmured. He twisted a fistful of the top your panties, the digging fabric providing a taste of friction. His voice dropped down to a threat. “I’m not asking now. Tell me.”

"Mattheo, please," You whimpered, your hips unconsciously shifting towards his teasing fingers. He released his hold and instead yanked off the thin fabric. Paranoia stirred inside you and you quickly looked around the quiet infirmary to see if your boss would catch you. Madam Pomfrey must’ve actually left and entrusted the clinic in your care. Though not the moment to think of it, it warmed you with a sense of pride. You tried to focus on that thought instead of diving headfirst into Mattheo’s fantasy.

"That's not quite what I asked for, darling. Try again,” Mattheo clicked his tongue, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes. He had incredible patience with you, but you just thought it was because he liked to see you in such a compromised position. He dragged an ant agonizingly slow finger up your slit while still keeping his eyes locked onto yours. You gasped at the contact, which only made him move slower.

“I want you, Mattheo, please,” You were rambling at this point, much to Mattheo’s satisfaction. His eyes darkened with desire, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Please, you have to hurry. Someone could walk in.”

"That's more like it," Mattheo purred, his finger now circling your most sensitive spot. The corners of his lips quirk up in a wicked grin, his dark hair falling in disarray around his face. You were officially delirious with lust. "But I think I'll take my time. The risk makes it more exciting, doesn't it?"

You bit your lip to stifle a moan as Mattheo increased the pressure, your hips bucking involuntarily. The fear of being caught warred with the intense pleasure building within you. You couldn’t believe you were actually excited at the prospect of getting caught. Mattheo nuzzled your neck, encouraging you to tilt back your head back to expose your neck. His lips trailed hot kisses along your throat, occasionally nipping at the sensitive skin. At the same time, he curled his middle finger into your heat while stifling your moan by dragging his tongue in your mouth.

“If you can’t be quiet, I’ll have to stop. Do you want that, love?” Mattheo sunk his teeth into your earlobe and inserted his forefinger. “Fuck, are you sure you can handle anymore? You’re already getting off on just my fingers. Maybe this is enough for you.”

“No! No… Please, Mattheo…” Mattheo’s fingers were a delicious stretch, his hands large and rugged from his sport. They were nothing compared to yours and when he moved his thumb over your clit, you had to bite his shoulder to stop yourself from crying out. You barely caught yourself in time and forced yourself to silence your moan into a whimper. He chuckled darkly, clearly enjoying your desperation.

"Please what?" Mattheo taunted, still continuing the ministrations of his fingers. He move his mouth back to your breasts, which only intensified the molten lava in your veins. You sucked in every moan with a tremor. "Tell me exactly what you want, love. I want to hear you say it."

"I... I want you inside me," You managed to gasp out between embarrassment and overwhelming desire. "All of you. Now."

Mattheo growled low in his throat, his patience and control finally snapping. In one fluid motion, he pulled you back into his hospital bed, which groaned loudly in a threatening exposure. You straddled him on the thin mattress, giving you a wonderful view of his darkened face. His hands made quick work of your remaining clothes as he positioned himself between your thighs.

"Remember," Mattheo warned, while he pressed the head of his length against your opening. "Not a sound."

You nodded frantically, biting your lip hard as Mattheo slowly pushed inside you. You buried your face deep into the crook of his neck and let out the moan you’ve been holding back escape. The stretch was exquisite, bordering on painful, and you had to concentrate every fiber of your being on staying quiet. You chanted his name into his neck as a prayer to stay quiet. Mattheo's eyes were dark with lust as he watched your face, clearly enjoying your struggle to remain silent.

"God, you feel amazing. So tight, so perfect for me," Once he was fully sheathed, Mattheo paused, giving you a moment to adjust. The two of you were artfully balanced between his injuries, which provided you a small distraction from falling over the edge of your climax too quickly. You whimpered softly in response at his words, rolling your hips to encourage him to move. Mattheo took the hint, pulling out almost completely before thrusting back in with a powerful snap of his hips. The bed creaked ominously, and you both froze for a moment, listening for any sign that someone had heard. Mattheo snickered at your paranoia. When no one came, you gripped his shoulders and started to move yourself on his length again.

“Am I hurting you?” You asked shakily, feeling the bandage from his thigh rub up against yours. Mattheo let out another low laugh.

“I should be asking you that,” Mattheo’s voice was deliciously raspy in your ear and his chuckle made your knees weaken. You could barely hold your pace. Mattheo dug his fingers into your ass before giving it an intense smack that drove the pleasure in your stomach deeper. Surprisingly, he let you take control, but he still moved his fingers back and forth from swirling on your clit to your nipples.

“Your leg… your arm… I mean- Oh…”

“I’m fine, love. Don’t worry about me. you take me so well,” Mattheo assured. He brushed the hair out of your face and tugged it back to see your plain face. Your eyes fluttered shut as pleasure coursed through you, but Mattheo's grip on your hair tightened. "Look at me. I want to see every expression on your face."

On his command, you forced your eyes open, meeting his intense gaze. The vulnerability of being so exposed, both physically and emotionally, sent a shiver down your spine. Mattheo's eyes softened for a moment, a tender smile playing at his lips before desire overtook him again. He began to thrust up into you, matching your rhythm. The new angle had you seeing stars, and you bit your lip hard to keep from crying out. Mattheo's hand left your hair to caress your cheek, his thumb brushing over your abused lower lip.

“I’m close,” You whispered almost shamefully, panting at how hard you were trying to stay quiet. As you whispered, your face contorted with pleasure and your eyes squeezed shut. The flush of arousal spread across your cheeks and down your neck, your lips red and swollen from being bitten. Mattheo's gaze was locked on you, devouring your every expression, his own face twisted with lust and desire.

“You better look at me if you want to cum. I want you to look me in the eyes while you make a mess of yourself all over me,” Mattheo commanded with a growl. You snapped your eyes open, which was rewarded with a hand on your clit. He circled it with tighter grouping and precision, making it all the harder to stay silent. “Fuck, you’re impossibly tight. Fuck- Say my name when you finish, mmm.”

Steadying yourself with your hands planted firmly on Mattheo’s chest, you gave your hips one final grind as you felt him pull himself all the way out and slam himself back in. Without shame or remorse, you loudly cried out his name which was enough for Mattheo to spill himself inside of you. Your last moans and cries fill the room, mingling with the sound of skin slapping against skin and heavy breathing. Mattheo finished with a grunt, his voice rough and primal. You pushed yourself off of him with a shudder and a shaky breath, barely being able to stumble into the chair that you had pulled up in the first place to treat him.

“You should prescribe me this sort of medicine more often, gods,” Mattheo still looked heavenly while leaned back, flushed with a sweaty post-coital glow. “Do you think Madam Pomfrey will write me a note for a daily dose?”

“A daily dose? You’re presumptuous,” You finally catch your breath while you button back up your dress. The hard reality of your actions rear its ugly head at you as Mattheo grunts in a real pain and you rush to give him the rest of the Wiggenweld tincture.

“What? Do you need a preexisting condition of being exclusive or something? I’m serious,” Mattheo finishes the potion and wraps his hand into yours. You let out a laugh of disbelief. Non-committal was amongst the high praise for the Quidditch player.

“I’m just your Healer, I really shouldn’t have done that…” You shake your head and finally get the balance to stand. You smooth the wrinkles of your dress and weakly smiled at the injured man. “I basically took advantage of you, Mattheo.”

“It wouldn’t be that way if you were mine,” Mattheo sat up and grabbed you with his free hand. He sprung up from the hospital bed, his grip tightening around you like a vice. His eyes bore into yours with a fierce intensity as he closed the distance between you, his breath a hot reminder of the events that had just transpired. “I’ll let you think about it. But I amserious about that prescription, love. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You stood frozen as Mattheo released you and sauntered out of the room, his confident stride belying the injury that had brought him there in the first place. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you alone with your racing thoughts and the lingering scent of his cologne. You were so screwed.

Part 2

Divider by @chachachannah

#SURPRISE!#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle quidditch #QuidditchPlayer!MattheoRiddle #mattheo riddle fic #Harry Potter smut #slytherin boys #Healer!Reader #Healer

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sourrpatched · 2 months ago

Text

𓉸ྀི l.mk LIKE A VIRGIN

Pairing > Yandere!Lee Mark x Fem!Reader

Genre > Horror (slasher type), Murder Mystery, College frat AU, smut (MDNI), loosely based in late 90s (there may be minor inconsistencies)

Sypnosis > As the fifth year anniversary of what the public coined the 'Vestal Murders' approaches, strange occurrences begin to happen. Leaving the public frightened there may be a copycat killer on the loose, and you worried that he might be there to finish the job.

Warnings > Cursing, drinking, smoking, death, Major character death (but also not really?), SMUT (MDNI), Dry humping, oral sex (f recieving), protected sex (wrap it up yall come on), stalking, Mark is actually crazy just an FYI

Word Count > 13.6k

A/N > This is the first to a series i’m working on for halloween so i hope if u enjoy this you enjoy the others! This is also my first time writing such a long fic and smut so bear with me please.

playlist > Like a Virgin- Madonna, Oblivion- Grimes, Somebody’s watching me- Rockwell

Lucville, October 12th

October was a fun month for most people. There was the official start of fall and of course halloween season. There was no one happier than your friends, you on the other hand were not a fan.

Something about Halloween just gave you the creeps. Which, yes may be its exact purpose, but that didn’t mean you had to like it. Besides, you preferred Spring anyway.

You sat on your desk chair next to your bed, head hanging back as your body laid limp on the seat. Your friend, Yuqi, was sorting through your closet. Well what was left of the clothes in your closet. She had thrown half of your wardrobe onto the floor, searching for the perfect outfit for tonight.

“Do I have to go?” You groaned, “Like really?”

It wasn’t like you to want to go out and party and your friends knew that, which is why tonight was a special occasion.

“Your parents aren’t going to let you stay home alone, considering recent events.”

“I’d say five years ago is hardly recent.”

There was a series of disappearances that led up to Halloween when you were in your early years of high school. It was three different people who happened to live within your town, some even attended the same school as you. It was a small town, yet you wouldn’t have considered yourself close to any of the students, except for one.

Jihoon was one of your older brother, Inhyuk’s longest and closest friends. You remember how they’d always hang out at your house after school playing video games. Jihoon was always so sweet to you, inviting you into their hangouts so you wouldn’t be alone. Even with the four year age gap you couldn’t help but develop a puppy crush on him.

A week had passed since his disappearance, everyone expected that the kids were playing a senior prank and would return shortly, your brother knew differently. He grew more distressed as the days passed. You remember how annoying it was that he wouldn’t allow you to go anywhere without him right by your side.

That protectiveness only got worse when the bodies had been discovered. The TV was playing a re run of IT in honor of Halloween when an emergency news broadcast appeared.

“It appears the bodies of multiple missing persons have been discovered after police received an anonymous report leading to an investigation of Velvet Lake.”

Chills ran down your spine as the names of the kids appeared on screen, Jihoon being one of the three. Your brother had taken it badly, he couldn’t leave his room for months. That’s why as soon as he graduated he took a scholarship across the globe and never came back.

It only made the house emptier. Your father was always traveling abroad on business so he was hardly ever around, and your mother who was a surgeon at S.E.S, the towns local hospital, was working overtime. That left you alone most of the time when you weren’t with your friends.

“I’m not talking about that Virgin killer, i’m talking about those people who were mauled by a bear or something in Melody.”

Melody was the neighboring town to yours closer to the city, and as far as you knew, there wasn’t much wildlife there.

“A bear? How would a bear even be there?”

“How would I know. My dad just said what he saw on today’s paper.” She shrugged pulling a shirt from your closet and bringing it up to your chest.

“It’s not Virgin Killer by the way, it’s Vestal.”

“Same difference. I think this is it by the way.” She motioned her head to the mirror behind you. It was a green and brown tube top with a turtleneck she had chosen for you to wear. It was cropped, exposing your waist down. You’d argue it wasn’t exactly appropriate for the weather but Yuqi never took that into account.

“Perfect.” She smiled and headed back to your closet. “Now we gotta find matching pants.”

“Isn’t it kind of stupid that they’re hosting a party already. Halloween isn’t even til three weeks from now.”

“Y/N you should know already they will throw a party for any reason.” Her voice comes out muffled. You roll your eyes knowing she’s searching the deep depths of your closet.

“What’s the point in that, aren’t parties supposed to be special?”

“Y/N, college parties are an excuse for us to get drunk and have fun. What’s more special than that?”

You trace out the words ‘HELP ME’ on the desk with your finger, whining. “Nothing for me, so do I have to go?”

You’re suddenly hit on the side of your head. You look down at a the floor where a juniper maxi skirt lays on the floor.

“You play this same game every time and end up dragged to the party anyway,” Yuqi bursts, “We’re going. So put those on and stop your bitching.”

You sigh in defeat, grabbing the skirt and beginning to change into the clothes before the sound of the doorbell goes off.

Yuqi lets a breath out. “That’s probably Minnie I’ll go get her. Stay here and don’t try and get away.” She pleads with emphases on ‘ don’t ‘ before leaving your room.

You change into your clothes, staring at yourself in the mirror. The amount of skin showing makes you a bit uncomfortable so you reach for a black leather jacket on the floor from Yuqi’s assault on your closet. You put it on feeling much more content hearing the approaching voices of your friends.

“You should really learn to stop popping up out of nowhere and call before you’re coming over.”

“I paged you guys.” Minnie spoke evidently.

You snicker, “You still carrying yours around?“

She rolls her eyes, “Okay you’re just lucky your mom and dad can afford to get you a cell.”

You shrug.

“It’s getting late, we should get going.” Yuqi says putting her own jacket on. You grab onto her before she can slip out the door.

“And this mess?”

The entire room looked as if it was part of the titanic wreckage. You could hardly see the floor with the piles of clothing covering it. She looks around then at you with an innocent smile. “I’ll help later.”

You take a breath knowing that was a lie, but following your friends out of the house nonetheless.

This better be worth it.

The frat house is about as messy as you would’ve expected. Red solo cups are left on every surface of the house, and you were sure not a single one of them was filled with water. There was a crowd in the living room surrounding a game of foosball between two guys you were sure were on the football team.

At some point your group separated to go meet up with other people. This was exactly why you hated coming to parties. Within a minute of walking through the front door, Yuqi would met up with her drama club friends and Minnie left with some group of stoners. You walked around hoping to find something to drink to pass time.

You walked into the kitchen finding a small trio of familiar faces hovering around the fridge. Two of the three idiots were taunting the youngest while he stood confused. You slowly sneak up and approach them startling them at the sound of your voice.

“You guys some sort of watch dogs for the drinks or?”

“Jesus fuck when did you get here?”

You shrug, gesturing your hands for them to move from the fridge. “Like twenty minutes ago.” You grab a coke out of the fridge and crack it open taking a sip.

“You came alone little fox, or in your usual set?”

You cringed at the nickname used. Johnny, the eldest of the frat, loved to call you that because of how sneaky you were. It wasn’t ever purposely, you just happened to ‘pop up out of nowhere’ sometimes according to others.

“Yuqi and Minnie went to go find their own cliques.”

“And left you to fend for yourself? That’s not good manners.” Yuta was the second eldest although he acted far from it. He and Johnny had been underclass men to your brother when they were in high school so you guys were pretty close.

“Stealing one of Kun’s cokes isn’t well mannered either.” Johnny teased.

“He’ll live.” You say taking another sip.

“You really shouldn’t be wandering around all by yourself y/n, it’s not very safe.” Mark, the youngest chimes in. Mark was in a grade higher than you, you had never been very close with him until a year ago though, seeing as he began to spend time more with your friend group.

He was a quiet type, kept to himself a lot of the time, and was usually the victim of a joke. He was very sweet though. Minnie pointed out that the last frat party you couldn’t attend, he wouldn’t stop asking her about you.

When she told him you were sick he seemed concerned and gave her shit for just leaving you behind. You felt a blush creeping in at the thought of him carrying so much about you.

“Awww why do you care so much about y/n?” Yuta says squeezing the younger’s cheeks. He slaps his hand off of him and Yuta only bursts out laughing.

“He’s right little fox,” Johnny says directed to you. He was always trying to sound wise. “I mean didn’t you notice the way Sungchan has been eyeing you all night?”

You didn’t. Sungchan had hit on you at the last frat party your friends attended in which you respectfully declined. The way the guys were talking though was as if he was some stalker, your skin crawled at the thought.

“You’re just saying that.”

“It’s true. His attention is always on you, even when you’re not paying attention.”

“Let’s face it, she’s never paying attention.” Yuta adds.

“And that’s exactly why you gotta be careful. College men can’t be trusted.”

You scoff, “You do realize you are included in that generalization. College man.”

Yuta pokes Johnny, putting him on the spot. “She got you there.” The eldest only rolls his eyes. Yuta might seem drunk to most people, and maybe he was, but you and your friends knew he was just the playful type.

“I think Johnny is right, especially around this season. You never know what could happen.” Mark’s sentence trails off.

“Oh chills,” Yuta says raising his arm, “You gave me chills Mark. You’re talking about that Virgin taker right?”

Johnny’s eyebrows furrow, “I don’t think that’s the name.”

“Whatever you know what I mean. He slaughtered all those puritans didn’t he?”

“A little insensitive don’t you think?”

“What? You mad he couldn’t take yours too?” He replies with a wink and sip of his beer. You take it back, he was definitely drunk.

This time you let out a giggle, it was always fun being around these idiots. “Vestal. Can’t believe i’ve had to correct two people on that today.” You shake your head.

“Who was the first?” Mark asks curiously.

“Yuqi, speaking of, I should probably start looking for her. I’m ready to bounce.”

“I thought I saw she left out earlier with some girl with short hair?”

“Great. So she left me and Minnie to get laid.” You say sarcastically.

Johnny clicks his tongue. “You must’ve broken a mirror, little fox. Minnie left out with the boys to go get some food. Munchies, you know.”

You groan, sinking your head into your hand. “They drag me here for no reason. Okay i’m leaving now, i’ll see you guys when I do.”

“You walking alone?” Mark‘s voice comes out full of concern.

You shrug. “Seems like it.”

“I can walk you home if you don’t mind?” He suggests.

“Thank you, but really It’s okay.” You’re already heading towards the door, throwing your empty can in the trash when you hear Yuta’s voice.

“Careful Y/N, don’t let the virgin killer get ya.”

You keep your sight forward, flicking him off as you leave.

You walk through your front door, sliding the locks on instantly. Your shoulders drop, the stress leaving your body. Walking home alone was what you did regularly, only this time it felt different. It felt like someone was accompanying you, even if it was only you walking your regular route home.

The fifteen minutes felt longer than usual but that could’ve rang true since you stopped a few times to look around swearing you could feel eyes on you. That’s why as soon as you got home you turned on all of the lights in your home.

Stupid Yuta. He was always saying something to put you on edge.

You turn on the TV and are shocked to find that the news is still on.

“Due to a power outage the following locations have been left with no power over sixty percent of people are left with no clue on when it will be repaired. Schools and Universities have decided to postpone classes for the time being. People are outraged, some believing this upcoming blood moon could be the reasoning for the power outages.”

The list of cities and towns comes up. Melody, Lucville, Graze town , and 0 mile.

Lucville. That couldn’t be right, you had power right now. The phone rings loudly from the kitchen, pulling you from your thoughts. You get up to check, walking to the counter and pulling the phone to your ear.

“Hell–”

“Did you hear??? The campus closed down cause of some weird power thing, it’s not coming back til November.” Yuqi’s voice cuts yours off.

“I did yeah but that doesn’t make any sense,” You object, “my power’s working.”

“Yeah it’s only effecting places like the police stations and schools, some hospitals too. Don’t read too much into it just be happy we have no classes.”

“Yeah I guess you’re right.”

“I gotta go now, my bed calls me. I only called to make sure you got home. Minnie told me you left alone.”

“The bed or the person in it,” You hear her squeak like she’d been caught. “Don’t forget you owe me a clean room.”

“I’ll get to it tomorrow, promise.”

“Whatever.” You hang up.

At that moment you hear a knock at the front door. You check the time. 1:40am. Weird, your mom was held up at work and your father was still out of town. You walk over to the front door checking the peep hole and seeing nothing.

That’s strange.

You unlock the door and open it, looking around the area. It was just an empty street, not a single light was on from any house. You close the door guessing it could’ve been from the TV, when the phone rings again.

You walk over to the kitchen grabbing the phone. “Hello?”

You’re met with silence.

You scoff, “Yuta? If this is your idea of a prank you should really move on. Everyone’s seen Scream by now.” You hang up.

Even though you were very sure it was just Yuta who was prank calling, you can’t help but feel a shiver run down your spine. You reach up over the counter opening the cabinet to grab a glass when the phone rings again.

You jump, the glass dropping from your finger tips and crashing into the ground. You groan, carefully crossing the glass without stepping in it and reaching for the phone.

“Yuta I swear to god the next time I see you, you better have a jockstrap on!” You shout before being cut off.

“Woah y/n are you okay?”

You sigh in relief. “Mark?”

“Yeah, I was calling to make sure you got home safe. Is something wrong?”

“It’s nothing, just got a bit spooked with a call earlier.”

“I’m guessing Yuta?”

“Ding Ding Ding. Guess i’m victim to his little halloween pranks.”

“I’ll talk to him about it.”

“Don’t bother, I can handle him.”

“I’m sure you can,” He chuckles, “Jockstrap?”

“It’s a clear warning in case he does want kids in the future.”

You can hear his smile through the phone, it helps ease your mind. “Assuming he doesn’t already have some running around?”

You let out a chuckle. “You’re right. He’ll be fine without any more.”

The laugh he lets out is contagious. “I gotta clean up a bit here, i’m glad you called though.” You meant it.

“Of course, wouldn’t want anything to happen to you. Who else would keep the guys in check?”

You can’t help the blush that fills your cheeks. “Bye, Mark.”

“I’ll see you later y/n.” The call ends.

You quickly clean up the mess before heading back into your brother’s old room to sleep. It was completely empty save for the TV left on a counter and a loan poster of Madonna on the wall.

You turn off the lights hoping to god you will make tomorrow’s morning shift at the diner.

It was about thirty minutes left of your shift before you were finally free. You rubbed your face to keep yourself awake. It was Monday morning shift and usually they weren’t that busy, but since classes were all canceled for the next week, you noticed a lot more students came to the diner.

You worked at Salty & Sweet Diner for over a year already. It gave you something to do when you weren’t at school so you wouldn’t have to spend all your time at home by yourself. It also gave you money you could use to go out with friends instead of depending on your parents.

“Looking terrible y/n.” The man who is next in line looks up at you with a mocking smile.

“As do you, What can I get for you today YangYang? Same as usual?”

He nodded, “Extra whipped cream don’t forget it.”

You write down his order on a notepad. “And you?”

“Are you on the menu?” Jaehyun jokes.

“Limited time only and you just missed it.”

Jaehyun and YangYang were usually in the frat basement getting high when they weren’t attending classes, so their presence today was surprising.

“The guys should be getting here soon.” Jaehyun comments, “Something about it being your shift so we should come over to annoy you?”

“I thought I mentioned if i see any of you in here i’ll have my manager ban you guys.”

“Nice try, Your manager was busy last night getting high with us.” YangYang points his finger at Minnie, who’s counting the register behind you.

The diner was owned by Minnie’s parents which is how you landed the job in the first place. You were great full most times, but not now. At that moment the door rings signaling another customer coming. You can spot the idiot from miles away.

“Y/N, how are you did you miss me?” He says enthusiastically. You roll your eyes.

“I wouldn’t even miss you if you died.”

“Ouch.” He grabs at his chest dramatically. Before you can berate him you’re cut off by the familiar, comforting voice.

“Hey y/n, how’s your shift going?” Mark says, his attention fixed onto you.

“It’s fine. What are you doing here?” You respond shyly.

“The guys wanted to annoy you but I only came to make sure you were alright.”

“I’m okay.” You could feel the awkwardness radiating off of your body.

“That’s good,” He clears his throat. “So, the guys were actually going to host another party this weekend. I was wondering if It’ll be okay if i keep my hopes up to see you.”

You wait a second before responding. “I can’t confirm whether you will be disappointed or not.” He nods at your answer when a voice cuts into your conversation.

“You won’t be. She will be there.” Minnie’s voice rings out.

You look at her, eyes wide. She only gives a tight smile. It’s her signature ‘Don’t even try it’ look.

Yuta speaks this time, “Great, so i’m guessing you will all three be there?”

“You guessed correctly.” She grins, “I’ll let Yuqi know about it. Y/N you can go now.”

“My shift isn’t over?”

“Yeah well I’m sure Hyungseo has no problem covering your shift for you.”

“Who‘s Hyungseo?” Yuta asks teasingly.

“The chef who can’t keep his eyes off of our little Y/N here,” Minnie winks at you. “Go on now Y/n, you can go.”

You give her a look before heading to the back to change out of your apron. Before you’re completely out of sight you can hear the group tease the youngest.

“You’re as red as Minnie’s old wash cloth right now.”

“Hey man knock it off.” Minnie replies.

Mark can only turn away, “I’m heading to the restroom.”

On your way out, a voice stops you in your tracks. Sungchan sits in his seat, a milkshake in front of him.

“Sungchan, i’m off the clock if you needed something I could let Minnie know.”

“Huh?” He turns his head to his drink realizing what it looks like to you, “No actually I just wanted to ask you.” He trails off his sentence. You stand there confused waiting for him to continue. “You’re going to be at Yuta’s party right?”

“I don’t really have a choice.”

His laughter is strained, “Well I was wondering if I see you there, would you want to–“

His voice is cut off by the yelling coming from where your group of friends stand. You see that two of the boys have decided to try and race to see who can finish their milkshake first, glad you clocked out before having to deal with that.

“Yeah i’ll see you there,” You say to Sungchan, leaving him to his drink. “I gotta go, enjoy your food.”

He nods giving you a small smile, “Bye Y/N.”

Once you’re home you can’t wait but head straight to the shower. You set the water to warm before stripping and standing directly under the stream of water. The warmth hits you and you let out a sigh, letting the water run down your body and soak into your hair.

Minutes pass of silence, the only sound being the running water. Your eyes are closed as you begin rinsing the remaining shampoo in your hair. You hear the faintest tap of the door, opening your eyes in an instant.

You turn the facet off stepping out of the shower and grabbing your towel, only now realizing your clothes weren’t there.

I swear I brought clothes?

Your heart drops as you begin to hear muffled voices coming from your house. You stand frozen in front of the bathroom door. You can hear your heart thumping as if it’s directly in your ears.

After moments of contemplating you choose to open the door. You follow the voices that are coming from the living room. The TV is on.

“Parents stand here today at the memorial sight with flowers and candles to honor the upcoming five year anniversary of the Vestal Murderer’s victims. The victims–“

You turn off the TV, deciding to ignore it and head back into your room to change into a pajama set.

October 19th

This party is boring. You had chosen to stick by Minnie’s side after experiencing the weirdest phenomenons for the past week. You had about three other times items had been misplaced in your home. You were slowly growing more agitated than anything, so when Minnie suggested you join them in their smoke session you didn’t decline.

You sat in between Minnie and YangYang, opting out of smoking after a single rotation. You weren’t a smoker so three puffs and one coughing fit later you were done for the night.

Your friends sat in a circle, recounting stories to one another. You couldn’t really focus on anything but keeping your eyes open though.

There’s a knock at the door, pulling your attention from the cup in your hands and towards the sound. Jaehyun gets up to get the door, speaking to the man on the other side with a hushed voice. It’s only when you lean to the side that you notice it’s Mark.

You turn over to Minnie by your side, tapping her shoulder to get her attention.

“I want to go get another drink.” Minnie nods her head, letting YangYang know she’s gonna be right back. You both sit up heading towards the door where Jaehyun looks annoyed.

“Is something wrong?” Minnie asks, inserting herself into their conversation.

“Just Johnny stealing our room for the night. He needs some ‘privacy’ for that girl he brought over.” He says rolling his eyes.

You couldn’t help but let out a giggle, it was funny that he was so bothered by something you knew for a fact he was very guilty of.

“You mad you couldn’t book it first?” Minnie jokes.

“Y/N, I thought you left?” Mark questions.

“No, well I was but then Minnie invited me up so,” You let out a breath motioning your hands to the room. “I’m here.”

You can hear laughter from Jaehyun and Minnie who find your current condition hilarious. It only makes you join their cackling. Mark stays watching the three of you very confused.

“Right,” He says slowly. “You guys are leaving now?”

“Just getting a refill.” Minnie brings her cup up showing the emptiness of it.

“You guys getting more drinks? Get me a–“

“Get it yourself.” You knock down Jaehyun before he can finish his sentence. He frowns. “Come on Minnie.” She follows you out the door, leaving the two boys to their own conversation.

You and Minnie stand in the kitchen, well Minnie stands. You’re sat on the counter as she searches the cabinets for more booze. You look over to the living room where you see a mix of unfamiliar and familiar faces engage in a game of Cup Pong.

“Here,” Minnie grabs your attention, handing your cup back to you. You grab it and take a sip, frowning at the taste. “It’s water. God knows you need it.”

You take another sip, setting it down on the counter afterwards. “Thanks.”

“You heard earlier right?” She says, taking a drink out of her own. You cock your head to the side, not picking up what she’s saying. “Siwon was asking what I was doing later tonight and if i wanted to ‘hang’.” She adds quotation marks with her fingers.

If you had the water in your hands you were very sure it would’ve spilled everywhere. “You’re kidding.”

“I wish I was.” Her face full of disgust.

“I too, wish you were.” Yuqi adds from behind you. You jump at her sudden appearance. “When did you get here?”

“Just now. Which reminds me,” She brings herself up onto the counter leaning in to the two of you. “You know that high school kid I told you guys about who joined our club, Minjae?” You both nodded. “He tried putting moves on me.”

Minnie chokes on her drink. Yuqi immediately hitting her back to help her catch her breath. “What the hell is wrong with you.”

“Right now?” You question in disbelief.

“While you two were busy getting stoned.”

Minnie lets out one last cough, “What did you say?”

“Of course not. That’s a kid, I want nothing to do with that.” Yuqi says almost offended that Minnie even had to ask.

“You were a high schooler when you hit on Soyeon.”

“Well yeah, but that’s different. Me and Soyeon were only a year apart. He’s like two years younger.”

Minnie shrugs, “You’re just scared he’s going to get attached if you take his V-Card like you did with Soyeon.”

“Hey,” She hits Minnie’s shoulder, “Next time i’ll let you choke.”

“You remember how you were, puppy eyes always following her around.” Minnie says bringing fists to her cheeks. “You were so cute before you chose to become a heartbreaker.”

Yuqi hits Minnie’s hands off of her. “Do you have a death wish?”

“Ah you’re so mean now.” Minnie whines, “Y/N, when you finally get to bed don’t become like Yuqi.”

“As if that would happen any time soon, guys aren’t exactly all over me. Besides, I want it to be special.” You say bringing your arms to your chest.

Yuqi makes a face at Minnie. The girls sharing a glance you aren’t able to understand.

“What?” You press.

“Don’t worry about guys not being interested in you, worry about the guard dog of yours keeping them from approaching.” Minnie speaks as if it’s an obvious answer.

“What do you mean?”

Before you can press any further a figure approaches your circle. “You guys okay?”

“Never better.” Yuqi smiles, hopping off of the counter.

You face where mark stands. You weren’t able to really take in his appearance earlier but now that he was leaning on the counter, you were able to dissect him as if he were a test subject on a science lab table.

You thought the water was helping sober you up but apparently not enough with the way your brain was making up horrible comparisons.

You couldn’t help the blush on your face as you noticed the outline of muscles on the man’s forearms. He wasn’t even flexing and they were still apparent.

His plain white tee didn’t stop your brain from what your friends would call ‘eye fucking’ the man in front of you. It fit him like a glove, capturing his broad shoulders and his chest the way you wish you could.

“You okay y/n?” He spoke, pulling you out of your trance.

“Uhh, yeah.” You turn to where your friends are smirking at you, reading you easily. “What were we talking about?”

“How it’s pretty late and you should get home soon.”

“And how Mark should probably take you back home.” Minnie adds smoothly.

“Would you be okay with that?” Mark looks over to you.

There’s a brief silence as everyone waits for your answer. You give a tight smile, “Sure.”

“Great, well we have to go.” Yuqi says pulling Minnie with her out of the kitchen, “See you tomorrow Y/N!”

You were lucky the man in front of you was so oblivious to your friend’s actions. You put your arms down to help get you off of the counter the way Yuqi did earlier. A pair of hands find their way around your waist before you can.

“Here let me help you.” Mark pulls you off the counter with no struggle. You can’t help the warmth creeping in your stomach from his grip around you.

“Thanks.” You say, his hands leaving your waist as you stand steady on your own feet. You hope he doesn’t notice the way you can’t look him in the eye. “Let’s go.”

The cool autumn air was enough to sober you up if only by a little. Mark walked silently beside you noticing the way you wrapped your arms around yourself trying to keep warm. You’re too busy thinking about how much longer this walk will be when you feel hands wrapping around your shoulder.

“You were shivering.” He says leaving his jacket on you.

“Thanks.” You mumble, feeling instant relief from the cool air.

You can smell a hint of vanilla on it, his signature cologne. You smile silently to yourself bringing your hands to your mouth to warm them, and to keep him from noticing the faint pink in your cheeks.

“I’m glad I can walk you home, I was a bit worried last time you answered the call sounding panicked.”

You recall the memory. He did sound a bit startled through the phone. “I’m okay, i’m glad you get to walk me home anyway.”

There’s another round of silence. You notice your street in the distance, trying to come up with what to say. He speaks before you’re able to utter a word.

“You look really pretty tonight by the way.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. He realizes how his sentence came off, backtracking his earlier statement. “You always look pretty I mean. I just– You really suit my jacket.”

“I don’t know if I should thank you for the jacket or the compliment.”

“You don’t have to thank me at all, i’m only stating the obvious.”

You look up smiling at him which feels so easy to do whenever he’s around. You notice the beauty marks all over his face and neck, wishing you could analyze them closer.

“That’s my place over there.” You break the silence pointing over to your house. He looks to you, “I’m glad you have arrived safely.”

“I’m glad you could bring me.”

You both are standing face to face for a moment, observing each other and waiting for someone to make the first move. He speaks first.

“I don’t want to hold you in the cold for any longer.”

You reach to take off his jacket, “Oh, here’s your–“

“No need,” he cuts you off. “You pull it off better than I ever have.”

“I beg to differ.” You’re hoping he can take a hint. “But I guess once I wear another clothing item of yours we can see who pulls off your clothes better.”

“Feel free to invite yourself over anytime for access to my wardrobe.”

“Or I can pull this one off you now?” You joke, pulling him closer by his shirt. You’re unsure where your sudden boldness is coming from, perhaps you weren’t completely sober after all.

He leans in closer, staring into your eyes and shifting his gaze to your lips. He was definitely not as dense as you thought. You lean in closer, his fingers grazing your lips.

A sudden noise pulls you guys apart from each other. You look to the ground, embarrassed by how brazen you came off. He reaches into his pocket, grabbing his pager and reading off a message.

“Do you need to go already?”

He lets out heavy sigh as if he was disappointed in the distraction, “Yeah, that was Yuta he wants for me to stay over the night.”

You’re shocked, always having assumed he had stayed with the rest of the frat members. “Oh, I thought you lived there?”

“No, My parents actually got me a place here for my studies so it’s just me.”

“I see, it’s the same for me.” You point again at your home. “Thank you for walking me, please make sure you get back safely.”

“My pleasure, have a nice night Y/N.” He waves his hand as you begin walking towards your home.

“Ditto.” You shout out loud enough for him to hear you as you walk up to your home pulling your key out.

“What did you do!” You let out a gut wrenching scream. The entire floor was painted red, you look down and notice your hands full of blood.

You jump out of your nightmare, sweat lining your body. The house is silent, your alarm clock emitting a red gleam. It reads 4:26am.

You sit in bed rubbing the last of the tiredness in your eyes deciding it’d better to keep yourself awake for a while longer. You get up heading towards your kitchen to grab a glass of water.

As you reach the kitchen you decide to turn the TV on to calm your nerves for the time being. The news is on again. You take a sip out of your water paying half a mind to what is being reported.

“It’s been 48 hours since the disappearance of Jung Sungchan, his parents report he was last seen on October 17.”

Sungchan? He had said he would go to the party when you last saw him just a few days ago. You think back realizing you hadn’t seen him at all tonight. You feel your heart sink, placing your glass down and running to your house phone.

“Hello?” Minnie’s voice comes out hoarse. You can tell you’d just woken her from her sleep but you’re too startled to apologize.

“Sungchan is missing.”

“Huh?”

“He’s gone I just saw on the news they said it’s been days. I’m freaking out I just talked to him on Monday this has to be a joke right?”

“Y/N–“ You can barely hear her over your panicked thoughts.

“This is happening all over again, they’re saying it’s him again.”

You feel your eyes begin to water, “There’s been weird things happening, I hear knocks and my TV turns on all the time for no reason.” “Y/N.”

“Minnie, He was so close before,” You take a breath, “What if I’m next?”

“Y/N!” She yells out causing you to jump. “Relax, you’re okay. Nothing is going to happen.”

You don’t say anything so she continues, “I’m pretty sure I saw Sungchan after you left with Mark okay? Also, those knocks are probably just neighborhood kids. Remember when you said they’d always egg your neighbors around halloween?”

You let out a breath, “Yeah, you’re right.”

“See so there’s nothing to worry about, it’s all in your head cause Yuta kept saying shit. You’re okay and nothing going to happen.”

You realize how stupid you might’ve sounded now. Minnie was right, nothing was wrong until Yuta put all of that into your head. You’re just overthinking it.

“Thank you.” You let out softly.

She gives a sound of acknowledgment, “You know if you ever feel scared, my house is always open to you.”

“It’s fine I think I was just paranoid but i’m okay now.”

“Well just letting you know. Do you want to stay on the phone?”

“No it’s okay, i’ll let you get back to sleep.”

“Make sure you’re getting some sleep too alright?” She yawns. “God knows we need it for tomorrow.”

“Oh crap.” You had forgotten about the annual fundraiser held at the frat house. It was meant to raise money for the victims families of the Vestal Murders. You and your friends had promised to be there. “It totally slipped my mind.”

“If you can’t go don’t sweat it, you have a lot on your plate anyway.”

“No, i’ll be there.”

“Okay well I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight Y/N.”

“Night.”

October 20th

After a day of setting up different games for the fundraiser you were able to sit and relax. Yuqi, who’s sitting beside you passes a bottle of coke to you.

“Thanks.” You reply, taking a sip of the drink and setting it down.

“Can’t believe we had to help set up, i just want to go home.”

You give a wry smile, “Yeah i’m pretty exhausted, had a tough time sleeping.” She’s about to respond when someone calls her from the distance. “I’m going!” She turns to face you, “Go, we’re done here anyway.”

She walks away meeting with YangYang at the steps of the house. You close your eyes lying back against the couch you’re on. You can hear voices around you but don’t try enough to make out what they’re all talking about. Footsteps approach you, you open your eyes to see who it is.

“The games haven’t even began and you’re tired already?”

Mark is standing above you, you take in the fitted black shirt he has on. You admire the turtleneck he has on, it really fits him even though it covered his neck moles you loved to stare at.

“I’m only resting, it’s been a long day.”

He hums, taking a seat beside you. “Then i’ll join you, you can use me as a pillow if you’d like.”

You take his offer, lying your head on his shoulder which is much more comfortable than the couch if you were being honest. You close your eyes and feel his hand start to play with your hair, purring at the feeling.

“Yo, you guys gonna just sit there or you wanna join?” Johnny shouts to you and Mark.

You look up at him, still resting your head on him. His face is so close you pull away and get up. “We’re going.” He follows behind you.

You can see a few of your friends lined up to play apple bobbing. You remember how you played once when you were younger, you freaked out and inhaled the water. Inhyuk had to pull you out to stop you from choking.

“You wanna play?” Yuta says, smirking at the two of you.

“Uh I’m good.” You say, looking up at Mark.

“Come on, show them how you use that mouth of yours.” Minnie winks at you from in line.

You shove into her with your forearm, she laughs it off. “Really I’m okay, Mark?”

“Actually mind if I show you something instead?”

“Ohhh, he’s going to show you what his mouth can do.” Yuta mocks, this time he earns a shove from Mark.

You give her a scornful look, “Sure let’s go.”

He holds your hand pulling you from behind him, leading the way. You guys walk past the crowds of people, making your way through the house. You realize he’s taking you to the basement so you speak up.

“Didn’t know you were a smoker, Lee.”

He chuckles, “Not quite.” You both are still hand in hand when he takes you to a corner room in the basement that you hadn’t noticed before.

“What’s this?”

“You’ll see,” He opens the door revealing a room filled with Halloween candy and a blanket on the floor. You look around noticing the TV in the room with VHS tapes of different movies laid out on the floor. “Do you like it?”

You look up at Mark seeing how he’s awaiting your answer. You pull him in for a hug, squealing in delight.

“This is so sweet.”

“Minnie told me you had been having a rough time, thought this might cheer you up.” He smiles, “Did it work?”

“It did more than work. Mark, thank you.” You look up at him, holding his gaze for a moment. You’re both only an inch from each other, you look at his lips wondering how soft they’d feel on yours.

His voice comes out rough, “We should watch a movie, yeah?” though he makes no effort to step away from you.

You take a look at him, his eyes won’t leave your mouth so you move in closer. “We can always watch later.”

He lets out a chuckle before pulling you in for a kiss. His lips feel so soft on yours, it’s everything and more than you had imagined. It’s rough and possessive, stealing your breath right from your mouth.

He bites onto your lip earning a moan from your lips, you pull away embarrassed by the noise you’d let out. “I’m sorry I don’t know why I did that.”

He lets out a breathless laugh, “Don’t apologize, I love those sounds from you.” He pulls you in again, the kiss becoming even heavier than before.

You can feel his tongue trace the bottom of your lips asking permission to deepen the kiss. You accept, beginning to explore his own mouth. You bite his lip, earning a groan from him, you thought that might be the sexiest noise you’d ever heard before.

He grabs onto your cheek with one hand and your waist with the other. “Fuck, Y/N. You’re so perfect you know that?” You can barely respond before he begins to pull you in once more.

“Mark,” You plead breathlessly, pulling away from him. “I need to tell you something.”

He hums, beginning to kiss down your neck. You squirm at the feeling. “I haven’t– Fuck. I’ve never done this before.”

He slowly pulls away from you, confusion evident on his face. “Oh.” He can tell how embarrassed you feel admitting it so he adds promptly. “We don’t have to do anything. I’m not going to force you to do anything I just thought a movie would be nice.”

You find his distressed state amusing, “I– yeah that’s fine.”

He smiles, about to put a movie in when you hear a knock from the door.

“Y/N, we gotta go. Yuqi’s parents want her home already.” Minnie appears at the door.

You nod remembering the plans you guys had made to hang out after the fundraiser. Fuck, you wished you could stay with Mark for longer, especially considering how much effort he’d put into spending time with you.

“Yeah, okay i’ll be right there.” You say a little breathlessly, hoping she doesn’t notice it. She gives you an all knowing smile as she closes the door, “Be quick.”

You frown at the fact that you have to leave early, Mark quickly comes to your defense. “Hey it’s okay, we can save it for next time.” He puts his hands on your shoulder pulling you for a hug.

“I wish I didn’t have to leave.” You pout.

He laughs, finding you adorable. “I wish you didn’t have to go either, but we have plenty of time together, right?”

You nod, “Right. I’ll see you next time okay?”

“Get home safely y/n.” You head for the door before stopping in your tracks and turning around. Mark looks confused until you pull him in once more for a short and sweet kiss.

“Goodbye Mark.” You say pulling away and leaving out the door.

“Naughty naughty girl, y/n.” Minnie tsks, tapping her finger over your head.

You push her hand away. “Shut up, let’s go.”

She laughs following you close behind.

“I still don’t know why my parents felt the need to be party poopers, they could’ve asked the neighbor to feed that damn dog.” Yuqi complains.

Minnie gasps, “I love Haku!”

“Whatever, Oh there it is!” Yuqi, says pointing down at Phantom Halloween Store.

Your friends race down to get there first, you choose to continue walking instead. There’s a TV store to the right showing a news report.

“There’s been yet another disappearance reported since a body was discovered earlier today. Police have not made a comment on the identity of the individual or what another disappearance could mean for the town of Lucville. The public demands answers. Could it be possible that the Vestal Murderer is back for another halloween or a copy cat killer has taken his place?”

“Y/N!” Yuqi’s voice calls after you from ahead. “You coming?”

You choose to ignore the rest of the report, “Im going!”

“I think this would look great on you.”

“Cat Woman?” Minnie raises her eyebrow.

“You’d look really sexy, that’s what halloweens all about, right y/n!”

“Exactly, come on Minnie, you gonna finally try and get the attention of Yuta?”

She scowls at the both of you, snatching the suit out of Yuqi’s hands. “I’m trying it on, that’s all. No promises.”

“Yesh right, you’ll rock it anyway.” You both tease her as she steps into the dressing room.

“So y/n, what are you dressing as?” Yuqi asks.

“I don’t know i’ll probably just dress as is.”

She looks as if you ate her dog, “It’s halloween. A costume is a must. No ifs or buts!”

“You think rhyming is going to help me change my mind?” You raise an eyebrow at her, minding your business looking through the masks.

“What about Mark,” You stop in your tracks, feigning a cough. “What about him?”

“Don’t you wanna do more than just make out in the basement of a frat house?”

You roll your eyes, “Minnie told you.”

“Yeah well i’m offended you didn’t!” She retorts. “If you want to impress him then you have got to dress up.”

You sigh, halloween costumes weren’t really your thing, but you didn’t want to stick out like a sore thumb being the only one not dressed up.

Yuqi smirks knowing she’s got to you. “Who knows,” she shrugs, “Maybe he will end up killing your virginity.”

Your ears go red, “Yuqi!” Her eyes go wide, stepping away from you. “Why are you so loud! Do you know how embarrassing you are?”

“Please spare me okay!” She yelps as you grab onto her shirt.

“Wow y/n I didn’t take you for a bully.” Johnny’s deep voice sounds from behind you both. You let go of Yuqi, allowing for her to fix her shirt.

“You make it a habit of stalking us?”

“Ah yes, cause we came here purely to track your group of friends down.” Yuta remarks sarcastically, “A halloween store, when it’s is less than a week away.”

“We came here to look for some last minute decorations.” Mark comments before you and Yuta can begin your bickering.

“We’re here for costumes, Y/N here has got the perfect one planned.” Yuqi states, her arm sneaking around your shoulder.

“Really? What is it?” Mark looks to you.

“It’s a surprise!” Yuqi squeaks out. You’re thankful for it because you wouldn’t have known what to say at all.

“Good, you should show us at the Halloween party we’re throwing this weekend.” Johnny utters, reaching into his pocket. He pulls an invitation flier to the party, passing it to you. “It’s a costume party so make sure you’re all there.”

“All of you.” Yuta adds, “Speaking of, where’s your third?”

At that moment Minnie walks out of the dressing room. The latex suit wraps around her body hugging her figure, the mask is on too bringing out her natural cat eyes, and in her hand she grips a whip as a signature weapon.

“So do you guys think–“ the words die on her tongue. She freezes looking at the group in front of her, one of them being Yuta.

“You wanna be my dominatrix Minnie?” Yuta jests.

She turns red at his comment and closes the dressing room door, hiding behind it.

“We’ll be there.” You say.

October 30th

It felt like Halloween had came early, there were piles of candies and treats left all over the kitchen counter as well as a punch bowl you were eighty percent sure was spiked. The blood moon stood bright in the night and true its name, painting the dark sky red.

You had just arrived no longer than ten minutes ago and your friends had already happened to disappear out of sight. You made your way to the counter grabbing a red solo cup to serve yourself the blood colored punch.

“You actually want to drink that?” Mark’s voice startles you, causing you to drop the ladle back into the punch.

“Well I guess not.”

“Sorry, I didn’t think you’d get scared.” He says, his hands going up in defense.

“It’s fine, i’ll just take a beer.” You reach for the refrigerator.

“You look beautiful,” He states, “Carrie right?”

You look down at the silk champagne colored dress you have on. “Yeah, did the crown give it away?”

“More so the blood on the costume but the crown too.”

You let out a giggle, “And you, Michael Myers?” You say almost as a question.

“Ding Ding Ding! I had my mask earlier but Yuta insisted on letting him borrow it for the time being, something about prancing the neighborhood kids?”

“Wow, he really is a menace. Is it bad i’m glad i’m not the target of his pranks though?”

He laughs, “I mean it is trick or treat right? The kids shouldn’t be that mad.”

You smile at him, he was always so playful with his words. You felt as if he understood you in ways not any other person could. You couldn’t stop your mind from remembering the kiss you both shared not too long ago.

He opened his mouth but no words came out. You felt a surge of boldness in the moment so you decided to speak for him.

“So Mark Myers, you wanna head back to the basement and finish what we started?”

You never could get used to the way he kissed you. He was always so quiet it was shocking to see this side of him. The one that was almost starving for your lips.

You sat on his lap, legs wrapped around his waist, his hands gripping your hips on him. You pulled away to take a breath, his lips attaching themselves to your throat.

“Fuck– Mark.” You groan, his mouth beginning to sprinkle bruises all over your neck. He kisses behind your ear, causing you to involuntarily grind your hips down.

He gasps at the sudden contact, “You’re driving me crazy.”

You let out a moan, continuing to grind your hips down.

You whine, the fabric in between you both making it hard for you to feel relief.

“Y/N baby,” He stops your movements with his hands on your hips. “ I don’t want to push you to do anything but you’re really making it hard.”

“You’re not pushing anything. I want this, I want you.”

“Fuck– I can’t hold you back.”

“Then don’t.” You say, pulling him in for another deep kiss. He kisses into your mouth, his tongue exploring you. You moan into the kiss beginning to build up the pace of your hips, his bulge growing as you continue to work yourself onto him.

“I feel so close.” You let out eagerly.

“Come on baby, come for me.” He begins to force your hips down, building more friction to your heat.

You can feel your high approaching rapidly, gripping onto his shoulders tight, your nails digging into his skin. He hisses at the feeling, you let out a weak apology.

“It’s okay, just be a good girl and finish, yeah?”

His words are enough to bring you to the edge. You feel your legs shake as your orgasm takes over your entire body. You bite down on his shoulder, trying to keep from screaming at the euphoric sensation.

He helps you ride out your orgasm until your body begins shaking with aftershocks. He lifts your face to look at him, his features soft. “How are you feeling?”

You can’t help but pull him in for another kiss, he’s shocked but returns it. You pull away looking up at him, pupils dilated and your voice coming out shy, “I want more.”

“Are you sure?” He asks slowly.

You nod your head, “Please.”

He hums, lifting you off of him so he can get up to check his counter for protection. You sit on the mattress waiting for him to find it, growing shyer as the seconds pass.

“I’ll go check upstairs for one, I’m sure Yuta’s got some lying around.” He states, “I’ll be back quickly okay?”

You nod your head, he steps out of the room to go look. You lift the blanket to cover your face, realization of the events hitting you. You were glad nobody was in the room so you could have time to blush over how good you felt.

You heard foot steps approach the door, assuming Mark had found Yuta’s pack of condoms. “Come in!”

Mark opens the door, looking tense. “We gotta go, police showed up crashing the party. Everyone has to leave.”

You both make it to your front door, out of breath for semi running the entire trip home. His hand never left yours throughout the trip and it doesn’t leave yours now. You can’t help but fidget with his fingers that you’ve only now noticed are so much bigger than yours.

“I wonder what tipped them off.” You say referring to the way the police had shut down the party.

“Something about a curfew, no parties for the time being.” He shrugs. “Listen y/n.”

Your fingers don’t stop tracing his palm as you await his sentence. “How about we hang out soon like a date?”

“Oh!” Your hands stop, taken aback by his unabashed state.

He continues, linking his hand into your own. “I’m more than just interested in you, and i’d like to show you that.”

You offer a measly smile. “I’d really like that.”

His answer’s coy. “Great, I’ll see you next time then yeah?”

You nod, he releases your hand beginning to walk away. “Bye Mark.”

“Goodnight Y/N.”

You ran into your home closing the door behind you hoping he didn’t notice your bashfulness as you bid him farewell. You bite your lip to calm yourself down, letting out a squeal of excitement.

A ring coming from the kitchen pulls you out of your cheerful state. You head towards the phone picking it up as it’s on the last ring.

“Yuqi? Minnie? DId you guys get home safe?”

The line is silent until you make out a strangled scream through the phone. You instantly drop it, beginning to panic. You hear muffled wheezing through the phone, choosing to pick it up again.

“Who the fuck is this? Is this the same number as before?” Your voice comes out horror-struck. “What the fuck do you want.”

The voice comes out restrained, “You.”

The line goes dead. You hear a knock on the door, grabbing a knife from the counter top and hugging it to your chest. The knocking gets louder, the doorknob twisting.

“Please just leave me alone!” You cry out.

“Y/N, it’s me. Please just open the door.” Marks voice rings out.

You run towards the door unlocking it and letting him in. He picks the knife out of your hands tossing it to the side and pulling you into his arms. You aren’t sure when you began hysterically crying but his embrace helped soothe you.

“What happened baby, talk to me.” You take in a breath, looking over to the phone.

“They won’t stop calling. I don’t know who it is or what they want from me.” You struggle to speak.

“Hey hey it’s okay.” He holds onto you tighter, “I’m here okay?”

Your sobs dwindle, your breathing becoming more steady.

“Do you want me to stay?” He asks.

You shake your head, “I don’t want to be here, not right now.”

He contemplates for a moment, “Would you want to stay at my place for tonight then?”

You nod your head, wiping your tears from your face.

“Please.”

You take in the place, it’s empty besides the couch and TV in the living room and a few plants scattered around. The house smells oddly clean, which wasn’t something you expected from a college man but you weren’t going to complain.

“You can take a seat i’ll get you a water.” He says pointing at the velvet couch in the corner of the living room.

“Thank you.” You smile, taking a seat. It’s pretty comfortable for being a living room couch, you decide you can stick to sleeping there tonight. Leaving early tomorrow so you won’t cause any disturbance.

You look to the wall, a clock hangs on it reading 2:30am. You wonder if Yuqi or Minnie made it home earlier, hoping that none of them ended up in a jail cell tonight.

Mark appears in front of you, a glass of water in his hand. “Here you go,” He offers. You accept the glass taking it out of his hands.

He takes a seat next to you, offering some distance so you can sit comfortably. You chug down half of the water, setting it down beside you onto the floor.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” He asks with a soft tone as if to not scare you.

“It’s everything I said before, I just feel very paranoid these days.” You shake your head, “I keep getting this weird feeling, I feel like someone’s been stalking me.”

His eyes go wide, “Do you know who?”

You let out a sigh, “I haven’t seen anyone, I just feel in my gut like something bad is going to happen if it hasn’t already.” He remains silent allowing you space to explain.

“I never told anyone this, but I keep having like a weird sense of deja vu. I remember so clearly that around this time five years back there was always this same feeling, like I was being followed or watched in every corner.”

You release a shaky breath, “I don’t know why but I think this person whoever he is. I feel like he wants me next.”

Mark breaks his silence, “The Vestal killer?”

“I think so.”

“That can’t be the case right? The police said he must’ve disappeared when he could after the murders right?”

You shrug, “I don’t know if that’s true. All I know is someone has been using me as a pawn in their game for the past weeks.”

“You’re right,” He responds. “Do you want to talk to Yuqi or Minnie maybe? Maybe they might have had the same feeling?”

You nod in agreement, “Yeah okay, can I borrow your phone please?”

“Of course, it’s in my room first door to your left.” You thank him before heading through the hallway into his room.

You pick up the phone beginning to dial in Yuqi’s number, there’s no answer. You try giving another attempt this time to Minnie’s number, she doesn’t pick up. You opt for sending a message to Minnie’s pager, glad you happened to remember to carry yours with you tonight.

911.

You hear Mark’s footsteps approaching, opening the door to check on you.

“None of them picked up, i’m hoping they’re not in jail or something.”

Mark chuckles, “I doubt it, I got a call from Yuta. He ran out with Minnie before the cops showed up.”

“Wow, glad to know they were having fun while shit hit the fan.” You reply sarcastically.

“They wouldn’t be the only ones.” Mark teases, referring to the events that took place between the two of you moments before the party was crashed.

You blush at the memory. “I don’t believe I recall, mind reminding me?”

He offers a coy smile, approaching you slowly. “You sure you don’t remember?” He closes the distance between you two, his arms locking you in between him and the counter.

Like muscle memory, you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. “Not at all, You going to try and jog my memory?”

He contemplates for a moment, “I’ll make sure you don’t forget again.” He says before leaning in for a brutal kiss.

His mouth tastes sweet, youd guess it’s from the halloween candy you noticed on his counter earlier. You grip his arms pulling him closer to lick and taste all over his mouth.

His arms find their way around your waist pulling you even closer to him if that’s possible. You begin to feel the growing bulge against you, disconnecting yourself from the kiss to suck on his neck instead.

He lets out a gasp, feeling your hands find their way down to his bulge and palming it through his pants.

“Fuck– I thought you said you’d never done this before.”

“I haven’t.”

He pulls in closer to your neck, whispering directly into your ear. “Then how is it that you’re already so perfect for me.”

You suck in a breath, your neck sensitive to his touch. He takes advantage of your position, biting down into your neck. It’s not enough to draw blood but enough to get you to release a moan.

He pulls your dress from off of you, your body shivering from the exposed air. “You’re beautiful.” He says, pulling you in for another kiss.

Your body feels on fire, the pleasure is only building up making you want more. You undo his belt, your hand pushing into his pants to grab onto his dick.

He lets out a groan, pulling you up from the counter and onto his bed instead. He pulls away, lying you down on the flat surface. “Tell me now if you don’t want to go any further.”

There’s no way in hell you were going to stop anytime soon. “Let’s finish what we started.”

He took his shirt off, and you took in a breath. His body was toned, his chest and collarbones looked perfect to leave bruises and bites all over.

“Take them off.” He growled. You began to unclasp your bra, your chest falling free. He falls to his knees, tugging your legs closer to him. His head in between your thighs.

You can feel his breath on your cunt, “Fuck baby your pussy is soaking already.”

You gasp, feeling his knuckle begin to trace your slit. “Markie please.” You plead for him to touch.

“Please what baby? Use your words.”

“Please touch me.”

The second the words leave your lips, you feel his mouth on you. You yelp, his mouth connecting straight to your clit, sucking onto it roughly. He eats you out with the same harshness he kisses you with. You can’t complain though, not when his mouth makes you feel like you’ve reached the gates of heaven.

The wet sound of him eating you out only adds to your arousal. You can’t help but squirm, his arms keep you from moving too much though. “Careful baby, i’m trying to feed here.”

His tongue begins fuck into your pussy, pulling a loud moan from you. You cover your mouth to muffle the sounds as much as possible. He pulls away, you whine at the loss of contact.

“Don’t hide your noises, I want to hear how loud you get when I make you cum.” You uncover your mouth as he gets back to work, this time focusing on sucking your clit. Your hips roll feeling your orgasm fast approaching.

“Markie please don’t stop” You beg.

You feel two fingers slide into your pussy, the stretch feels so good. You roll your hips chasing your climax. The stimulation from his fingers penetrating you leave you breathless. You repeat his name over and over like a mantra.

“Markie please I want to cum. Please let me cum.”

With one last thrust of his fingers and a suck on your clit you reach your high, your eyes seeing white. He draws out your orgasm, stopping only when you hiss at the overstimulation.

You let out a breath, looking him in his eyes as he begins to undresses himself. He grabs the condom from the drawer and pulls his cock out of his boxers.

You can’t help but stare right at him, your mouth watering at the sight of his long and thick cock. There was a large vein that ran through it, his tip glowing red. You weren’t experienced but you’d seen films before, and his looked like one straight out of a porno.

He gives it a few pumps before tearing open the packaging and wrapping it around his shaft. “We’re not done yet.”

You feel him lay over you, lining his cock with your entrance. He looks to you before pushing inside, “Are you ready?” You nod. “Yes.”

He pushes himself into you, taking breaks in between to help you catch your breath. “Relax baby, god you’re so fucking tight.”

His dick looked big, but it felt even larger. You felt a slight pain as he slowly pushed himself fully in. “Fuck– Mark you’re so big.”

“It’s okay baby, it’s almost fully inside.” You nod your head, your eyes closing wishing for him to just get on with it.

His dick pushes inside you once again pulling a gasp from you. You swear you can feel it in your stomach.

“That’s it baby.” You open your eye to look down and see his hips connecting to yours, he’s bottomed out. He tests a small thrust and you let out a moan.

“Markie, you can fuck me already.” Your words are enough to snap him back into his lustful self. He starts a slow and steady pace, thrusting into you.

You let out a few noises, tears beginning to line your eyes. He notices, wiping your face with his hand. “Please kiss me.” He leans into you, kissing you gently.

You close your eyes into the kiss, feeling his lips suck your own. You pull away, a moan escaping your lips once he hits your sweet spot. “There– right there.”

He quickens his pace, pistoling his cock attacking your g-spot. Your legs wrapping around his waist, to keep him from pulling any further away from you.

“I’m close–“ You let out, his thrusts getting quicker and stronger.

“Me too.” He groans. His fingers slipping to your sensitive bud, rubbing circles making you scream in pleasure. With the next few thrusts you feel your body convulse, clenching down on him. Your nails scratch down his arms, he hisses at the sting. You reach your second climax of the night, your legs shaking from the aftershocks.

He lets out growl, the feeling of your climax triggering his own. With one last thrust, he’s finishing into the condom. He pulls out of you, you let out a whine at the feeling.

He disposes of the condom, pulling a blanket over the both of you and wrapping his arms around your body.

“I don’t think I can work my legs anymore.” You joke, closing your eyes and catching your breath.

He laughs and pulls you in closer, “That’s okay, you’re all mine now so you have no use for them anyway.”

You let out an awkward laugh. His joke coming out a bit empty. You have no time to comment on it before you feel your eyes begin to shut on their own.

You wake up the next morning bed empty. You remember the events of last night, pulling the covers over your head to hide your embarrassment. The shower is running from what sounds like the room over.

Mark is showering, I should probably go join him.

You smile to yourself and try getting up from the bed, your legs wobbly.

Oh fuck.

You slowly and carefully try walking out of the room, finding the TV on from the living room.

“After days of searching, two bodies have been found early this morning by Velvet lake. No suspects have been identified as of now, though police have said a mask was found at the crime scene.” You inhale sharply at the mask on the TV.

No, it can’t be.

“Halloween festivities have began despite police efforts to ensure proper curfew. The mask found, one of Michael Myers, will be hard to trace back, as the costume happens to be a popular one.”

You stand frozen, hearing the words repeat in your head.

There’s no way it was Mark, he was here the whole time last night.

“This just in, the bodies are presumed to be missing persons Jung Sungchan and Choi Minjae. They were discovered only an hour ago, police reporting it’s possible they could’ve just missed the killer.”

Your breath catches in your throat. Mark woke earlier than you, is it possible he’s showering now to get rid of the evidence. You begin to slowly make your way towards the bedroom to make a phone call.

You dial Minnie, praying to any god that she picks up. There’s no answer. You let out a frustrated sigh, redialing to try and see if it’ll work this time.

Come on Minnie, pick up.

The shower stops. You panic, leaving the phone on the counter and slowly stepping out of the room to leave the house. It’s as you turn the corner that you hear a click from another room.

You turn to the room on the right, finding the door slightly ajar and squeezing through it. You hear another sound of clicking coming from below the steps.

You tiptoe down the steps, finding the room filled with field tools and rope scattered everywhere. It isn’t until you turn the corner that your eyes are filled with horror.

You spot a familiar figure tied to a chair, repeatedly hitting his watch against the seat making a clicking noise. You let out a gasp, his eyes finding your own in pure terror.

Hyungseo? What the fuck was he doing here tied up.

You head over to him pulling the rope from his mouth. “Y/N you have to leave now.”

“What are you talking about.” You whisper, beginning to untie his hands.

“He is insane. You have to leave now it’s not safe.”

“I’m not going to leave you here for yourself.” You dismiss his words. “Come on we’re going.”

His hands are tied with a rope, you lean down to try and undo the knot, not finding success in tugging. “Y/N?” You hear from upstairs. Your eyes go wide at his voice calling you.

You stand, putting a finger over your mouth gesturing for Hyungseo to keep silent. In the corner of your eye you notice the wall of tools again, grabbing a sickle from off of it.

You can hear Mark’s footsteps closely approaching. You cover your mouth and hold in your breath hoping he doesn’t notice you. The door closes from up the stairs. You take in a breath before standing from your hiding place.

“There you are.” His voice comes out from behind you. You jump walking backwards as he steps forward. “Was looking all over for you little fox.”

You can barely let out any words, “What the fuck is this. Why is Hyungseo here.”

He looks genuinely appalled at your question, “What do you mean what is this? It’s all for you.”

“What?” You speak in a whisper.

“I did this for you.” He says stepping closer. “These guys are nothing compared to you, their perverted minds thinking they could ever please you the way you need.”

You hit the wall, sucking in a breath as his hand cups your face. “You’re so pure y/n I had to make sure they wouldn’t get in the way of that.”

His thumb traces your lips, you turn your face away. “That’s not what I want. You’re hurting innocent people.”

“It’s what you need y/n. It’s a shame you can’t see that.”

He pulls away, grabbing onto your wrist that’s holding the sickle. He takes it from your grip throwing it off to the side. “Was that for me? You think i’d let that happen?”

“Leave me alone,” You feel a tear roll down your cheek. “Please.”

“Hey,” He wipes your face. “I’m not going to hurt you baby. I’m protecting you.”

He walks over to where Hyungseo sits, “From him.” He pulls a knife from his pocket, “These fuckers.”

“Don’t hurt him please. Come on let’s talk about this.” You step to the side, closer to the tools on the wall.

“There’s nothing to talk about y/n. He doesn’t deserve to even breathe your air.” He drags the knife against Hyungseo’s throat. You hear the man cry out from fear.

“These men surround themselves around you hoping for a chance to take you for themselves.” He punctures his arm, Hyungseo screaming from the injury.

“Mark stop.” You grab a screwdriver from the wall, hiding it behind your back. “Please just let him go, I’ll stay with you just don’t hurt anyone else.”

He stops, looking into your eye. “I’m not asking for you to stay with me forever, that’d be unfair to you.” He frowns stepping closer to you, “I love you y/n. I’m doing this for your own good.”

You shake your head, “You’re doing this because you’re fucking insane.” He lets out a cold laugh, “If that’s what you think so be it, but I know what you need.”

“You don’t know shit.” You say, grabbing the screwdriver from your pocket and shoving it through his abdomen.

“Fuck–“ He grips his side, you push him away running to where Hyungseo sits, cutting him free from the rope. “You want to play it like this? Really babe.”

“Fuck you, i’m not your babe.” He grabs onto your hair pulling you closer to him with one hand. “I already did.”

You knock your elbow into his wound, escaping from his hold as soon as his hand lets you go. “Hurry.” Hyungseo says from up the stairs, grabbing onto your hand and helping you run up further.

You both run through the hallway, Mark close behind. “You have to go. I’ll call for help.”

“I’m not going to leave you here.”

“Go,” You warn him sternly, “I’ll hold him back.”

“I’ll look for help.” He says before running out of the door. You pick up the phone from his room dialing 911. The phone line is dead.

“You really think i’m that stupid to leave the phone connected?” You jolt from his sudden appearance. “Just leave it alone y/n if we leave now we will catch him in time. His leg is pretty bruised he won’t be able to make it so far.”

“Don’t do this please.”

“I think i’ve told you already, I’m doing this for your own good.”

His hands smoother your face, the blood left on them transferring to your face. “That’s exactly why I got rid of Sungchan, he strayed too close. He knew you were mine and yet he couldn’t hold himself back so I had to take him out.”

“No.” You cry.

“And Jihoon, he was all you ever looked at. You were falling right into his trap, into his temptations.”

“Then what about Minjae, huh?” You yell out, “He never wanted me he wanted Yuqi.”

His smile was deranged, “Honestly he was just fucking annoying.”

You shake your head, tears streaming down your face. Your body shaking in fear. “You’re evil.”

“I’m your executioner.” He looks into your eyes. There’s no more of that sweet Mark you knew before. His entire being is unhinged. He hears a sound coming from the front door, becoming distracted for a second.

You take that moment to reach for the lamp on the desk and breaking it on his head, setting yourself free from his hold. He’s stunned for a moment as you run towards the kitchen grabbing a knife from the counter.

“Get away from me!” You scream out, he stands in front of you, his head bleeding from the hit he took. “Put the knife down.”

You shake your head, “I said get away!” He puts his hands up. “Y/n you’re acting crazy, put the knife down.”

“I’m crazy?” You scream, “You’ve killed people.”

He ignores you, stepping closer. “Which is exactly why I know, you don’t have it in you. So just drop the knife.”

You pause for a moment, frozen in fear. He takes that chance to reach for your hand and grab the knife out of it. What he doesn’t realize is that you are quicker than you seem, you dodge his movement stabbing the knife through his back.

He turns slowly, blood dripping from his mouth. “Fuck, you always were smarter than anyone ever took you for.” He drops to the floor, unconscious giving you the time to run out of the house.

You’re running with blood all over your clothes. The knife is still in your hand, piercing through your palms but even the sting isn’t enough to shake off the adrenaline in your body. You can hear voices calling out to you but you can’t stop running.

It isn’t til you feel a pair of hands grabbing onto you that you stop running. “Y/N.” You break out of your thoughts, your brother’s voice stopping you in your tracks.

“Inhyuk,” You let out a shaky breath. “What are you doing here.”

“I came here as soon as I heard, you need to calm down okay? We’re here to help you.”

You look around noticing the police and paramedics parked outside of the house. Some making their way towards you already. You look at your brother finally caving into his hold and sobbing into his shoulder.

“It’s okay, I’m here.”

“Did he mention any other victims?” You shake your head, the officer had been asking you questions for the past fifteen minutes but you could barely answer. You sat on the back of the ambulance, the paramedics checking you to make sure you had no major injuries.

Hyungseo was rushed to the hospital already, they said his injuries could be fatal if not treated quickly. You had a feeling he was going to be okay though.

There was no word on the state of Mark, and you weren’t sure if you even wanted to know. It was hard enough to face the officer right now. “Can you give her a moment, she can always head to the station if she had any more details.” You hear your brother’s voice interject the officer.

“Oh yes, of course.” He steps away from the two of you walking over to where the sheriff stands. You were thankful for Inhyuk’s help, the last thing you needed was to be reminded of the amount of victims Mark had killed all for you.

“Mom just got here, i’m going to go talk to her okay?” You nod, “I’ll be right back.” He says, still very worried about your condition.

“You’re okay. You might experience some soreness and pain but your blood pressure is fine.” The paramedic says while removing the cuff around your arm. “I’ll give you a moment to yourself.”

He walks always leaving you alone. Your breaths become less frantic, you look up from your hands and into the house in front of you. You remember the way you’d fought Mark off, the police wondering how it was that you’d been able to escape with little to no injuries.

You didn’t have it in you to explain everything. Not the way he had told you that you were his motive for killing, or the way you’d had to stab him multiple times before running out successfully.

There’d be a time for when you’d come clean about everything, and you were fine with that. Except for one.

You had felt a rush the moment you stabbed him with the screwdriver. It was different from any adrenaline rush, no this was a rush of excitement. Then the second time, when you saw him drop to the floor, his eyes rolling into his head unconscious, you’d felt it again.

You enjoyed the way his warm blood dripped down your hands, the way he let in a sharp inhale the second you punctured his back. You loved the way it felt to see him half dead on the ground, and that was something you’d be taking to the grave.

317 notes · View notes

bvtbxtch · 1 year ago

Text

Angry Heart | Eddie Munson x fem!reader (Prologue)

Summary: Your best friend Chrissy Cunningham always got everything she ever wanted, even you new friend and crush Eddie Munson. When Chrissy does the unthinkable, Eddie is left to pick up the pieces alone... or is he?

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Chrissy Cunningham, Eddie Munson x Reader (eventually), reader and Chrissy are friends but have a fallout. Minimal usage of Y/N

Series warnings: MDNI 18 +, Smut, fluff and angst (everything all rolled into one beautiful shit show), mentions of drugs and alcohol being consumed, overall adult language and theme. By clicking the read more, you agree that you are over 18! Ageless and minor blogs who interact will be blocked.

Word count: ~4.7k

A/N: this story is the weird brainchild of me getting a little inebriated and remembering how my divorced parents met and I was inspired. This is my first fic ever and I know it is NOT GOOD, but feedback is always appreciated. This is just the prologue to set up some context for our characters. I have a rough plan as to where this story is going to go but I am so open to suggestions!! Thanks for reading y'all.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

September 1985

Chrissy Cunningham was always perfect. And it was even more annoying because she was pretty, popular and nice to everyone she made eye contact with. That is also why you had been best friends since junior high when you both joined the dance team. When high school hit, she projected herself into the popular group by revolving your high school experience around cheerleading and the popular girls, where you happily sacrificed some of your valuable reputation to pursue both cheer and drama club. Chrissy was always there even though you were seen as less desirable as the other girls on the team. Even if she was in the back row, she would always be at your productions and would happily cheer you on.

Although she was your best friend, she scared you a lot. She was on the path to a scholarship to her dream school, to getting scooped up by some picture perfect person and getting married and having her dream job. She would stay hot and pretty and perfect forever and as you were approaching graduation, you often worried about what was next for you - terrified of peaking in high school and amounting to nothing. Worried about not finding your own group of people, your own scholarship, and your own path laid out neatly like Chrissy’s was.

Eddie Munson, however, was the opposite of perfect. If Chrissy was a sparkling smooth personality, Eddie was a jagged edge that very few people appreciated. He was a repeat senior who dealt drugs to all of Hawkins’ youth and was unapologetically apathetic to the restraints that were supposedly placed on the senior class of ‘86. So when he happily worked sound for the drama club in exchange for free rentals for his DND club, many drama kids turned their noses up at him; except for you. You happily sat next to him at your first drama club meeting. There was something magnetic about him. From that first time you met him, you were determined to get to know him better. Your intuitions told you that he was going to be more than a background character in your own story.

Two friends from opposite circles, opposite ends of the spectrum. As you and Chrissy left the gym fussing over new uniforms and team drama, Eddie was on the other side of the school picking his lunch kit out of the garbage, nursing a new black eye; and a freshman on his left pacing a rut into the hallway.

“Last time I stick up for you, Henderson. I swear to god…you’re lucky I have extra shirts in the drama storage.” The metalhead mumbled. His dark curls pulled back into a low bun as he dug further into the garbage can.

“How was I supposed to know that it was Jason behind me? I didn’t mean to fall into him!” Dustin pouted. Eddie had picked him off the floor after Jason Carver had poured his gatorade down his Hellfire shirt. Eddie would never admit it, but as much as he loved his precious club, he cared for his freshmen recruits more. Jason, being the captain of the basketball team, and therefore the resident asshole, gave Eddie the shiner for his troubles, and threw his stuff in the garbage as an extra favor. You rounded the corner with Chrissy as you saw the two boys, both looking worse for wear.

“Hey Ed - Oh my god your face!” You gasped as he turned around after finally fishing his lunch kit out of the trash.

“You should see the other guy” Eddie chuckled, and winced

“What other guy?” When he does not respond to your question you turn to the freshman who looks like he has seen a ghost.

“J-Jason Carver. Eddie was just trying to save my ass.” Dustin squeaked, his eyes glued to his sneakers.

“Come with me”. You grab his hand and lead him to the girls locker room. Chrissy hot on your trails.

After investigating to ensure no one else was in the changeroom, you lock the door and sit Eddie down on a bench while you enter the small infirmary to retrieve the first aid kit. Chrissy keeps her distance, but sits down beside him and flashes him a polite smile. Eddie feels a pang in his heart as he feels his cheeks start to burn red. Chrissy lets out a small giggle.

“That’s really brave what you did for that kid” Chrissy praised.

“Ahh, there is no way Henderson would be able to take on that meathead. I gotta take care of my minions.”

Chrissy laughs again, almost too loud. As you pace back to the two of them, you feel like an intruder. You clear your throat and both of them look away, blushing furiously. You take a long sigh as you open the first aid kit to find the ice pack and a bandaid for the small cut that has formed on Eddie’s cheekbone. He winces while you stick the bandaid on and you gently place the ice pack over his eye. His brown eyes glued to Chrissy’s as you tended to him. Once you finished, you cleaned up and the three of you returned to the bustling hallways of Hawkins High.

“Thanks for the help sweetheart. I just wish this was a spiderman bandage or something.” Sweetheart.

“Don’t sweat it Eddie. I’ll see you in rehearsal later” you smiled. Chrissy eyed Eddie up and down as you said your goodbyes and Eddie turned around to go to his next class.

“I never realized how much of a charmer Eddie Munson is,” Chrissy pondered. You felt a pit in your stomach. As much as you loved Chrissy, Eddie was your friend first. So many of your teammates had put Chrissy as a priority over you, and you always felt like a drifter between drama and cheer - seeing as you felt you didn’t totally feel like you belonged in either.. Eddie was finally a person that you thought was yours, something that Chrissy couldn’t influence, someone that finally didn’t care about your background or where you fit on the food chain. But, lo and behold, it seems that everyone falls under the high school spell and everything always seems to be too good to be true for you.

“Yeah, he’s a cool guy I guess. He does the sound for the drama club apparently he’s got a knack for music. Walked into him playing some Black Sabbath on the guitar in the drama room.” You tried to retort calmly, but your hands were trembling.

“Black Sabb -?Hmph. I think that is going to give me yet another reason to go to the drama room… Since he seems to be good with his hands” Chrissy giggled and intertwined her arm with yours, leading you to your shared math class.

“Chris, please don’t just play with this one, I do really like him. I think he could be a really good friend.” Friend.

“That’s totally fine! Nothing’s gonna happen. I guess I just realized how cute he was…Maybe I should ask him to come watch us at the next game, or hang out…afterwards” Chrissy winks at you

“You’d be better off setting up a deal with him” you poke. She giggles as you both take your seats.

You could barely focus in math, mind racing about how much Chrissy and Eddie bothered you. Was it really just the idea of him and Chrissy being better friends than you? Or were you jealous? That’s ridiculous because you liked Eddie as a friend. Just a friend. Chrissy could go out with Eddie all she wants. You aren’t the boss of her - or him for that matter. Then why are you stuck on the way your heart fluttered when he called you sweetheart? Why were you constantly seeking him out in the hallways?

No. It can’t be. You’re just friends.

October 1985

Your body was radiating with anxiety during afternoon rehearsals.The pit in your stomach had grown to a full ache in your chest whenever you heard Chrissy talk about Eddie. The more you taked with him, the more you wanted to reach out and touch him, to hug him and tell him that he was the greatest, most interesting person you had ever met. But again, everything seems way too good to be true because every time you hung out with Eddie, Chrissy seemed to make her way into conversation.

Eddie was teaching a freshman how to use the new sound board and you could barely get out your lines. All you could think about is Eddie and Chrissy in the locker room. Your performances were so uninspired that Mr. Taylor ended your scene rehearsals early. Your scene partner Eric gave you an apologetic pat as you both reunited with the rest of the drama club. Eddie sauntered up behind you and wrapped his arms around your shoulders.

“How’s it going superstar?” He leaned his chin on the top of your head.

“Hey Eddie. I’m okay, trouble focusing today. I’m totally flubbing today.”

“Hey, so I had a question for you… about Chrissy”. You tensed up and broke away from him. You turned to face him but could not look him in the eyes.

“Umm, yeah what’s up?” There comes that ache you knew all too well. You could see it happening now, him finally choosing her over you.

“Is she single? What’s the deal? Is she dating any basket boys I should be worried about?” He poked at you nervously. You tried to let a laugh escape to ease the tension but all that came out was an exasperated wince.

“No, she’s single.. Do what you want Ed.” you mumbled. You could feel the tears threatening to well up. You brush past him and pick up your bag to head to the gym. Eddie’s eyes follow you out, but he couldn’t bring himself to go after you. What was your deal?

You trudged off the field after an exasperating practice after an exhausting rehearsal. You were so excited to leave this day in the past, grab some junk from the supermarket with Chrissy and hunker in for an evening of studying. In the locker room, Sarah and Tiffany giggle and look at you and Chrissy.

“Hey Chris, we were wondering if you wanted to come to the mall with us right now. We were going to pick up some outfits for Halloween!” Tiffany briefly meets your gaze and looks back to Chrissy.

“Yeah sure!” the blonde chirped “We would love to! Y/N and I were just going to-”

“Oh, well we only have room for one..” Sarah sneered. Chrissy looks at you with her beautiful brows furrowed into a perfect pout. You knew she wanted to go with them. You felt bad for making Chrissy sacrifice her social standing to hang out with you. You knew she wanted to go, but would never tell you. You decided to take the fall for her… the undesired yet again.

“Yeah, that’s fine, I got lots of homework to do anyways” you brushed off. “I’ll call you later Chris.”

“I’ll come over after!” Chrissy lazily offered as you packed your bag up and left the locker room.

You left with holes in your heart. All you wanted was your people to stay yours. You didn’t understand why that was so difficult.

The shrill ring of your landline woke you from your desk - having fallen asleep while finishing homework. You flopped onto your bed and picked up the phone.

“Hello?” You yawned.

“Babe, I have to tell you about my evening!!” Chrissy squealed, she barely let you greet her.

“Oh, you mean the evening you were supposed to spend with me studying?” you jabbed. You felt bad for taking your insecurities out on Chrissy, but you couldn’t help it.

“Oh come on now. This will make up for it.”

“Alright get on with it then.” You rolled your eyes and rolled on to your back.

“So you will never believe who me, Tiffany and Sarah ran into at the mall!”

“Ummm… John Cusak” You joked dryly.

“No you silly! Eddie!” Chrissy yelped. “And do I have news for you!!”

You jolted up and immediately gave the call your full attention. This could not end well - either for Eddie or you.

“Sarah and Tiffany let you talk to Eddie in public?” you snorted. The insecurity seeping through the receiver.

“Well, kind of. We joked that the party next week would be best with something other than just the alcohol if you know what I mean” you could practically hear Chrissy’s eyebrows wagging. “So they dared me to go set up a deal with him… and I could see him practically drooling over me! I think he might like me, babe. And I think that I really like the fact that he does” she giggles maliciously. Attention. As kind and beautiful as Chrissy was, she was used to the attention, she thrived off of it. It worried you, the fact that there were hordes of guys that had been left in her wake so she could have an ego boost or something to do on a Friday night.

“Chris, are you sure that’s, like, a good idea? What if you really hurt him?”

“Oh come on, Y/N, its just a bit of fun. Nothing serious! So anyways, I went over to his trailer about an hour ago and he asked for my number! Ugh!” Your excitement wasn’t reciprocated like Chrissy had hoped. Her squeals being the only ones that echoed between the two of you.

“What’s wrong? Why aren’t you excited?” Chrissy questioned.

“I just - you’re both my friends, I just don’t want anyone getting hurt.”

“Ugh you worry way too much. It’s just some harmless fun! Loosen up, maybe then you could get some dates yourself!” she chided. You knew she was joking but it was the last blow to your breaking heart “ Anyways, I gotta get off the line just in case he tries to call! Love you!” with that you hear a click and the dead line. You sigh as you put your phone back on the receiver and flop back down onto your pillows.

You always hated halloween. It was an excuse for anyone your age to dress up in some sort of sexy reiteration of some sort of animal or cartoon character and to get sloppy drunk in someone’s trashed house, unbeknownst to their absent parents. That is exactly where you found yourself; Chrissy on one side of the couch, Tiffany on the other, you smooshed in the middle (as per Chrissy’s request) and half of the basketball and cheer team sat in a messy circle on the floor. How you got yourself roped into spin the bottle, you would never know, but your makeshift devil horns were giving you a headache and as much as you loathed blacking out in random people’s houses, you were nursing your fourth drink of the night (and were definitely feeling the buzz). Between the noise of people talking over each other, the blaring music, and Chrissy constantly blabbing about how much time she and Eddie have been spending together, you felt like your brain was going to explode. The only option that you really saw for the evening was to forget all about it like half of the Hawkins High population at the party.

Jason grabbed the empty bottle in the middle of the circle and spun it with vigor. Everyone waited in anticipation to see who would be the lucky girl to get to kiss the king of Hawkins high. The room fell hushed as you looked at the bottle, which was pointing directly at you. You immediately felt like you were going to throw up. Since that day in the hallway with Eddie, you always held some animosity for Jason. The last thing you wanted to do was kiss the guy who went after one of your other best friends. Jason chuckled and elbowed his minions on either side of him, all of them snickering deviously. He stood from his spot and stalked across the circle towards you. You chuckled nervously and went to get out of your spot on the couch.

“Hah, don’t mean to kill the vibe, but suddenly I don’t really feel like playing anymore.” You push yourself off the couch and go to step over some people sitting on the floor but Jason grabbed your wrist. Hard. You felt the world spinning around you, unsure if it was your sudden anxiety, or the alcohol. You could hear the faint whispers of Chrissy and Tiffany behind you, and you were suddenly aware of the 20 pairs of eyes locked on you. You tried to pull away from him with no avail.

“Come on, don’t be a prude. Let me give you the best kiss of your life, seeing as the only person you’ve boned is the freak” He pulled you into his chest and held your face in his hands. He pressed his mouth to yours, trying to weasel his tongue inside your pressed lips. You finally got the strength to push him away with a cry in disgust. You wanted to slap him but your bones now felt like jello and your feet cemented to the floor.

“She hasn’t boned the freak! She hasn’t boned anyone!” Chrissy laughed, not realizing that her retort did more harm than good. You wished the ground would swallow you whole. Finally, you muster your strength to move. You didn’t want any of these assholes to see you cry, to give them the satisfaction.

“Thanks, Chris” you whisper before running out of the room and up the stairs to the crowded living room. You were desperate for some air. Everything around you felt like it was constricting you, choking you. All you could hear was laughter and your vision felt like it was pinholing. You slide out of the front door to sit on the steps. You breathe deeply, looking around to make sure that there was no one around before you let your tears fall.

Chrissy made an attempt to go after you. After rolling her eyes and giving Tiffany a tight smile, she lifter herself off of the couch and pranced up the stairs to the rest of the party. She looked around the scatterings of people, but didn’t see you. She slid her way through the hallway into the kitchen, where her eyes found someone else she had been casually looking for all evening. She stumbled towards a mop of chocolate curls and wrapped her arms around him, hands covering his eyes.

“Guess who?” she slurred.

“Hey pretty girl.” Eddie turned to her to give her a proper embrace but quickly took a step back. “Don’t know if you want to be seen doing that to me right now” he chuckled nervously. Eddie understood what being seen with him meant and as little as he cared for his own reputation, he cared greatly for hers

. Chrissy looked him up and down and fully realized the metal head’s beauty. Pale skin kissed with dark ink, beautiful brown eyes that shone - especially when he talked to her, lean figure and crooked smile. She felt like her brain was going to short circuit.

“You’re right” Chrissy cooed. “Maybe we should go somewhere a little more private so we could talk” She took his hand and led him up the stairs to a quiet hallway full of closed doors. They rounded a corner and they sank down the wall to sit on the floor, Chrissy totally forgetting about her mission to find you and Eddie being blissfully ignorant to your conundrum.

You had collected yourself and knew there was no way you could stay at the party. As much as you loathed going back into the chaos and as angry as you were at Chrissy, you couldn’t allow yourself without letting her know that you were leaving and how angry you were. When reentered the house, the first faces you were met with were Jason and his posse of meatheads. You averted your gaze but heard their snickers anyway. You refused to give him the satisfaction or the tears, so you kept moving, keeping your eyes glued to the linoleum. The tightness of your chest multiplied with the number of rooms you checked where you did not see a perky blonde ponytail. You needed to find Chrissy; you needed to give her a piece of your mind; you needed to leave. But everything was deafening. Things were getting fuzzy. Determined to get a grip and find your friend, you trot up to the top floor of the house, in search of a quiet place to collect yourself. You were met with a long hallway full of closed doors. You continue down the hallway, checking doors to see if you could find a bathroom. When you round the corner of the dim upstairs, your breath gets caught in your throat. You see Eddie sitting on the floor, Chrissy in his lap, their mouths messily mashed together. Everything came tumbling down. The combination of alcohol and shock makes you wrack out a gasp of air. Both Eddie and Chrissy looked up but with very different expressions. Chrissy looked almost proud of her conquest, ignorant to the hurt you were already feeling towards her. Eddie, on the other hand, looked mortified - turning a bright red. The look of betrayal was clear across your own face as tears threatened to fall again.

“Im - I’m going to go.” you don’t wait for either of them to get up. Eddie pushes Chrissy to her feet and gets up to go after you. Chrissy grabs his arm

“Eddie, wait!”

“Chrissy, I am so incredibly sorry, but I need to go make sure she’s okay” He goes to move away from her but she stops him again and pulls him in for a chaste kiss.

“Please don’t let this be the last time we do this” she whispers into his ear and drops his hand. Eddie turns a bright pink and leaves her with a smile.

You trudge through the house, tunnel vision honing in on the front door. The urge to vomit increased tenfold. Eddie catches up to you. You hear him calling out for you but you can’t turn back. Too embarrassed and heart broken (and drunk) to be able to handle what you saw in an unfamiliar place, in front of strangers nonetheless. You swung open the front door and ran down the front steps. Eddie trudges after you, clearly upset about what you had seen. There was no way he was going to let this get between the two of you.

“Y/N Wait” He sounds desperate. You turn to him and roll your eyes.

“What? Is it not what it looks like?” you laugh dryly. “You don’t need to explain anything to me, I’m going home.” You turn to leave. You couldn’t take another person pitying you. You understood where you were on the food chain. Yet another person to think of you as second best to Chrissy.

“Sweetheart, you shouldn’t walk by yourself this late at night.” Eddie chides. The alcohol had finally given you the bravery you had been needing for the past hour.

“Don’t do that. Don’t sweetheart me when you are literally going to go back inside and suck face with my best friend. Just - go. Enjoy the rest of your night Eddie. I’ll be just fine.” The tears freely falling down your cheeks didn’t convince him. He takes a step towards you but you turn to walk away,

“Why are you so angry with me about Chrissy? I thought I didn’t need to explain anything to you, but you seem really fucking mad at me”. Eddie’s words stop you dead in your tracks. He’s angry? With you? Instead of actual vomit, the words that come out of your mouth leave uncontrollably.

“She doesn’t like you Eddie. She likes the attention. She doesn’t like you like I do. She doesn’t care about you like you deserve to be cared about. And she likes the fact that I care about you way too much. Chrissy has to have everything. I can’t have anything to myself, but yet again no one gives a shit about me, about how I feel. How much I care because as long as Chrissy is there, she will always be number one. You are just another conquest for her and ,and she is just using you” You stand your ground, chest heaving. There is a sense of relief that you stood your ground but you immediately knew you said to much.

“E-Eddie, wair-”

“You think that I don’t know that she’s using me?”

“What?”

“Look, Y/N I am really really sorry that you care about me and I am really sorry that you feel that way about Chrissy. But I really like her. So I’m cool if she thinks that she wants to have some fun for now. I’ll let her as long as she’ll have me. Just - please stop caring about me, sweetheart. The last thing I want to do is hurt you. I want to be your friend but, fuck -I might be in love with Chrissy. I think I have been for a long time, but just finally let myself feel it..”

You stood in shock. Your heart shattered to a million pieces. Eddie’s did too. He loved having you as a friend and he loved having you in his life, but he couldn’t imagine kissing you like he did Chrissy, taking you on dates like he wanted to with Chrissy, going to prom like he wished he would with Chrissy. Not you.

“Forget we ever had this conversation”. You turned on your heels and walked away. Hoping that Eddie would stop you and tell you that this was all a joke, that you were worth it, that you were his favorite and that he felt the same way about you. And even though being Chrissy’s friend was draining a lot of the time, you did always have her. But everything changed in one night. This is the first night that you have ever felt completely alone. You crossed your arms over your torso and started your walk home.

The next days and weeks went on as normal. Eddie seemingly didn’t tell Chrissy about your conversation because the phone calls never ceased. She still met you by your locker and she still intertwined her arm with yours when you walked. Eddie's gaze was aimed more at Chrissy and nights where you and Eddie normally hung out were now filled with secret rendezvous with the blonde. Although he still acted like your old Eddie, you felt a coldness from him. His smile never seemed genuinely happy and his eyes stopped glowing when he saw you. You kept quiet in efforts not to lose your only true friends at the school, but your shattered heart was refractured after every phone call you got from Chrissy, every detail you heard about their meetups or how soft his hands were or how great his kisses were.. You felt like you were crashing and burning but you kept up your facade to ensure you could salvage your fractured friendship, and every time you hung up your phone, you curled into your pillow and cried because although things were seemingly as they were supposed to be, you had never felt so out of place and isolated in your life.

You were waiting for Chrissy to come over, books sprawled across your kitchen table in anticipation for your study session for your semester finals. She was over an hour late.You sighed as you pulled out your flashcards and started to review in an attempt to salvage the time you had already wasted. You were interrupted by your phone ringing.

“Hello?”

“Babe oh my god I am so sorry I am running behind but you are never going to guess what happened!!”

“What’s that Chris?”

“Eddie Asked me to be his girlfriend!!”

Part 1 when?

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cherryrikis · 1 month ago

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BETTER LUCK TOMORROW - two ! case file

pairing : nishimura riki x reader

synopsis : after being in the wrong place at the wrong time, you (as well as your friends), were framed for the death of your brother and disappearance of your boyfriend. you all had no hope. no job, no money, none of you were even allowed to graduate. at least, until a stubborn kid on a dance scholarship suddenly acts as your savior, riki helps clear your name all for the sake of a school project.

this episode contains the following : 0.7k wc, statistics of ppl going missing but idk if it’s accurate, talking about bodies (once), mention of killing/death

previous | masterlist | next

[2024.9.30 - y.j choi / m.j kim interview : contacts #3 & #4]

contacted list : s.y kwon (1), j.y sim (2), y.j choi (3), m.j kim (4)

RIKI : are you okay with this interview being recorded and transcribed, especially in the event of these audio clips possibly being publicized?

YEONJUN : yes, i don’t mind.

MINJAE : [nods]

JUNGWON : minjae, sir. we’re gonna need you to verbally agree into the mic.

MINJAE : yeah. i’m fine with it.

RIKI : how did you feel about being assigned to the lee-park case?

YEONJUN : it was kind of a big break for me. if i solved, or, partook in solving this case, i would’ve been given better assignments and more opportunities. i kinda had a bad reputation for accidentally letting minor criminals go, but this really got the department to trust me more. i just wanted the respect, that’s all.

RIKI : minjae?

MINJAE : obviously because of the strike at the city hospital, they were short on paramedics. officers have to know medical basics, so we had a lot of our team volunteering at the ED. i was supposed to be one of them. but then your friend killed your other two friends, and we were so short staffed that they gave this crazy case to the departments rookies. i wanted no part in this, but i did feel satisfied after lee was brought down.

YEONJUN : [speaking to minjae] [inaudible]

MINJAE : [speaking to yeonjun] [quietly] don’t tell me to leave high school drama in the past. you didn’t even know why [inaudible] — between me and that group.

JUNGWON : can we bring the discussion back into the group, please?

MINJAE : i’m done here. don’t think i’m not watching you two, especially since you’re still going to school with my sister.

MINJAE : [he gets up and leaves the room]

JUNGWON : yeonjun, are you still available to answer more questions?

YEONJUN : of course, but just a few. we’re supposed to be expecting a big call in about an hour. sorry about minjae by the way. i know he has something against your friends, but im not sure what he has against you two specifically.

RIKI : all good. but, this is something i’ve been meaning to ask. why was jay’s body never found?

YEONJUN : yeah, uh.. the thing about that. jay park was a very unique case. heeseung lee, he was found dead within the first two weeks. only 3% of people stay missing for over a week, with much less chances of being found dead. that alone already had the department spooked. but jay.. 1% of people stay missing for over a month. yet jay was never found. ever.

YEONJUN : over a year after we first received the call, we had to legally declare him as dead. we just didn’t have the resources to keep looking for him. you know how bad crime is in los angeles.. but, i tried. he was so young, i wanted to keep looking. but the department couldn’t afford to.

RIKI : i’ll have to ask you about that part off the record. but, just one last question while i still have you. i notice you kept checking your walkie. why was heeseung’s cause of death never publicized?

YEONJUN : i.. i don’t..

YEONJUN : [sudden distinct noise via walkie talkie, calling his name]

YEONJUN : ah shit. this is the call we’ve been waiting for. i’m really sorry about that last question, but i’ll try to get back to you on that! [he reassures before rushing out the room]

JUNGWON : alone again.

RIKI : wait. do you remember the rules the teacher gave us?

JUNGWON : yeah, why?

RIKI : and you know how she said under no circumstances should we contact any families directly involved?

JUNGWON : you can’t be serious, riki. we are not talking to yn. i don’t get why you’re so obsessed with proving her innocent.

RIKI : because there’s no way it was her. i know yn, she couldn’t even kill a spider. you really think she’d kill her own brother and boyfriend? she loved jay and you know it.

JUNGWON : it’s always the ones you least expect it to be, you know how it is. maybe we didn’t know her as well as we thought.

RIKI : you may not want to talk to her, but i do and will. if you don’t want to help me then so be it. but when i’m done with her, i’ll contact sunghoon —

[ 8:23 of 8:23 recording ]

taglist ! @jiiyen @prettiestgirlontheplanet @hannicorpse @wonsboo @murazbae @stilesks @soobinbunnie5 @blvengene @r1kification @gyuvision @goldenmellow @ariluvssssss100 @who-tf-soddhi @mmurazz @jaemified @strawberrieswithchocolateo3o @heartheejake @hoonsdrnkdzd @wonkixo @yangjungwonnie @tya0

#k-films #en-diaries #enhypen x reader #enhypen #niki smau #niki x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen smau #enhypen scenarios #enhypen niki #nishimura riki #riki x reader

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hoursofreading · 2 months ago

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Supporters, luckily, were as determined as opponents. Mothers such as Trixie Pearson’s, a widow, endured real poverty to educate their daughters. A touching number of “grants” and “scholarships” that suddenly materialized were found only later to have come from teachers’ own pockets. The nuns at the convent school where Daphne Hanschell was a pupil in the 1920s decided to put her in for Oxford, telling her nothing until the day of the exam, when they promised that “the Holy Ghost will fix it”. It did. Edith Wood’s father, who refused permission for her to take up a place she had been awarded, was summoned to an interview with her headmistress, after which he did as he was told. The women who arrived at colleges by way of such random circumstances were a more socially mixed group than existed perhaps anywhere else at the time in Britain. The first female graduates from King’s College London, included, among students from professional families, a laborer’s daughter, a shopkeeper’s daughter reading classics and, top of her year, a hatter’s daughter from Crystal Palace. The experience was new for everyone, and not always easy; illness and homesickness, as well as women who were simply bored or, could not fit in. They were a minority. For most, at a period when the only alternative was to be at home until they married, education offered intellectual companionship and personal privacy. Katie Dixon at Newnham remembered lying by the fire reading Aeschylus: “I remember many a winter evening with a roaring little fire… a vast lexicon lying on my middle and a play of Aeschylus or what not in my hands. The silence, the being alone and knowing everyone else was at it, in the same way, seemed to give one a great push on.” That fusion of independence and camaraderie was crucial. Bright young women could make their own way with confidence because they were no longer isolated. They have been forging ahead ever since.

#quote

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lambtotheslaughterr · 7 months ago

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bitch!

A Rafe Cameron Oneshot

[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

WC: 5.1k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

OONA'S MASTERLIST

request for anon

requests are currently CLOSED

all AI images are created from prompts i wrote. they are not real images.

Summary: Reader has been a no-good, money-hungry mean girl her whole life, but after moving to the city & being humbled by the impracticality of it all, she runs into an old face who is willing to provide her what she longs for most... that is if she is willing to give herself first.

Living in the city wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. You were eager to move away from your hometown & embark on your first solo adventure. It wasn’t like there was really anything keeping you anyway. Your relationship with your parents was tumultuous, having been practically raised by the housemaid your whole life. And you had no true friends that would shed a tear about you leaving.

At one point in your high school career, you thought the world was in your hands, but it wasn’t until graduating & realizing that you had no idea what you even wanted to do with your life that your world shrunk. You had been a mean girl in school, the stereotypical kind who only had people that surrounded you because of your money & looks. To you, that was everything. But when your senior year drew to a close, & your ‘friends’ began to stray, excited about their own college dreams & growing up & being independent, you learned quite harshly that your bad attitude only landed you in more loneliness.

Now, you weren’t ignorant enough to believe that it wasn’t well-deserved, after all, you were quite the bully, but it still came as a surprise to you that once summer began you couldn’t keep your posse under thumb. They were becoming their own people.

So, you thought to yourself that you’d show them. Show them that you could do better, be better, & not in the means of bettering your character, but your livelihood. You thought moving to a big city, like most small town teens dreamed about, would be the first step in outshining your former classmates. Your parents cared little about what you wanted to do, so it was easy enough to find an apartment in the city to your tastes. But once you were there, you had no clue what to do next.

You tried applying to the local universities, wanting to earn yourself a distinguished degree that would certainly secure you a lavish future. But your applications were all denied. Apparently, not everything you wanted would drop into your lap. You were a straight B student in high school with no electives or real skills to show that you were worth a submission to any university, at least the ones with a reputation they cared to keep. And applying for scholarships proved much the same, your parents making way too much to qualify you for any admittance.

So, with getting an education out of the question, even for a spoiled, snobby rich girl like yourself, you thought ‘what would be even greater than a degree’. Your answer? Fame.

But in a city full of dreamers, the competition was fierce. You took some acting classes, thinking you, of course, would be a shoe in for the lifestyle, but you weren’t the only entitled pretty girl who had what it took to knock people out of your way. Any potential friends you could have made was quickly tarnished by the equally devious young women you competed against for small roles in television or film, all of you vying for your big break. After a couple months of many auditions with no call-backs & your competition spreading nasty rumors about you throughout the tough industry, you surprised even yourself when you called it quits.

So the road to fame wasn’t your road to take. So what? You were never one to really give up on the luxurious plans you dreamt for yourself. But to get there, you had to resort to the path your mother once took that eventually landed her your wealthy father. You became a sugar baby.

It was fun at first, ego-filling even—as if you really needed any more of that—but soon enough the novelty of it wore off. Yes, the men were more than happy to give you money & materialistic gifts as long as you were their date for a night or two, but it was you who failed to fill satisfied. After a year of being the sugar baby for a handful of men, you decided that you wanted a real relationship, even if it was just for the money & lavish lifestyle. But you refused to entertain those thoughts with any of the handy, elder men you babied for.

What you wanted next was a wealthy young man with the world in his hands, much like how you held it when you were younger. But how to put yourself in their target path was a difficult one. You began with the dating apps, but those only proved to be catfishes or men who invested their money, not filled their wallets with it. Then you tried the up-scale clubs on the finer side of town where you lived. However, the men you met there, while young & rich & handsome, were proud bachelor’s & couldn’t be tied down. Every path you took to upkeep your lifestyle continued to prove to be a dead end.

It wasn’t that your parents weren’t giving you an allowance, they were. A check came every month but it was only enough to really cover your rent, which was rather expensive. Everything else was up to you. So after a year of living in the city & you failed to get into school, failed to kick start a career in the entertainment industry, & failed to get a man to support your tastes, you swallowed your pride & got a job.

Fortunately it was a nice job, meaning the reputation & vibe of the place would have been a place even you would visit. The position you secured was as a server. It was for a rooftop restaurant & bar that had regular clientele, a majority of them cut from the same cloth as you. In your first week, you then realized that you had been granted an opportunity. As long as you worked hard & pulled your weight in the fast-paced position, you were sure your pocket-full prince charming would come & whisk you away.

Of course, you weren’t ignorant to what that made you out to be. After all, there was a special term for women similar to you: gold digger. But gold digger’s came from nothing. You didn’t. You just didn’t want it to be from your parents any longer.

It was a slow night at your work, a Sunday night to be exact. It was 9:30 at night & the restaurant would close at 10. You were in the middle of polishing some silverware at a booth in the corner when one of the bartender’s whistled at you, stealing your attention.

You made a face, clearly annoyed that they whistled instead of walked over, but they nodded their head in the direction of a table near the windows. A single man sat by himself, waiting to be waited on.

“Seriously?” You mumbled under your breath, knowing the restaurant closed in 30 minutes. If he ordered food, the kitchen was going to be pissed off & it was going to be closed in 30 minutes. If he ordered food, the kitchen was going to be pissed off & it was going to be you they took it out on.

Swallowing your annoyance, you stood up, rubbing out the wrinkles of your black waist-apron & black blouse before crossing the restaurant to the lone man.

As you grew closer, he glanced up, having sensed your approach, but you very subtly paused in your step, recognizing those eyes & that face.

Great. You reeled internally. This was going to be humiliating.

“Good evening,” You greeted, faking your sweetest smile, “can I get you started with a glass of wine? I recommend—”

“A beer would be fine.” He smirked up at you, “Whatever’s on top.”

You pressed your lips together, suppressing your irritation, “Right away.”

Spinning on your heel, you went up to the bar to lean over the fine wood & place your order with the bartender. As the bartender began to fill a glass, he spoke to you over his shoulder, “You alright?”

Despite working there for some time, you never made any friends among your coworkers. You were known as ‘that girl’, or in more obvious terms ‘that bitch’.

“Yes.” You replied tersely, not wanting to entertain a conversation when you were already on edge.

The bartender placed a 20 oz beer on the bar near your hand, “Just askin’. You looked like you were dreading talking to the guy.”

“Just someone I used to know.” You muttered, a lilt on the edge of your tone.

“Yeah? How’s that?”

Snatching the beer, you gave your coworker a sneer of a smile, “None of your business.”

Walking away with the beer, you were sure to flick your hair over your shoulder.

It was true, though. The man who sat waiting for his beer was someone you used to know. His name was Rafe Cameron, & he was from your hometown. If you were the queen of the hallways in your high school, Rafe Cameron was king. You two weren’t exactly friends, or even close for that matter, but you ran the same circle & attended the same parties & did plenty of coke together. But you knew very little about him otherwise.

“Your beer.” You announced, placing it on the table before him, “Have you decided on what you want to eat?”

“Sirloin. 8oz. Medium-rare.” He replied coolly & cockily, a trademark of his he you knew well.

Yup, the cooks were gonna eat you alive.

“Alrighty.” Turning away from him, you crossed to the far end of the bar where your POS system was & punched in the order. As you heard the ticket machine in the kitchen behind the bar chitter out, you also didn’t miss the groans of the cooks.

“Fucking kidding me?” A voice sounded. You rolled your eyes. It’s not like it was your fault you had to do your job.

Returning back to Rafe’s table, you placed down a steak knife before telling him his food would be out in ten minutes. But just as you were about to depart to go back to polishing silverware, Rafe’s voice halted you.

“So, this is what you’re doing now, huh?” He commented, that familiar judgmental drawl in his voice.

You paused to turn & face him, “Yup. Living the life.”

Of course, you couldn’t show your own dissatisfaction, having a spine to up-keep in the face of old acquaintances, but you knew as well as Rafe did that people like the two of you could always see through other’s bullshit.

“I gotta say, I’m surprised. Never expected _____ _____, of all people, to wait on others. It’s not in our blood. But I guess I forget about where your mom comes from.”

The insult was apparent. You narrowed your eyes, “And you’re still an asshole that gets a hard on from bullying others. Shocker.”

Rafe smirked at that, leaning forward so his elbows were on the table as he peered up at you, “Wasn’t so long ago you were bullying them alongside me.”

“Things change.” You lied through your teeth.

“I doubt that.”

Rolling your eyes, completely done with the conversation & dick measuring contest, you marched away. As you continued polishing the silverware, you felt Rafe’s eyes on you from across the restaurant. You made it apparent that you would not be indulging in a stare-off as you shifted your head so your hair blocked him in your peripheral. But after a few minutes, you heard the familiar dinging of a bell emanating from the kitchen, alerting you to food being ready.

Still ignoring Rafe’s trailing of you, you marched to the kitchen window behind the bar & began gathering the plate & side. The head cook glared at you through the gap in the wall, “Mind not accepting more orders? We’re nearly finished back here.”

You puckered your lower lip, feigning sympathy, “No promises, customer looks hungry so I think I’ll drop a dessert menu at his table.”

You grinned wryly to yourself as you walked away, the bitching & insults of the cooks fading behind you.

Back at Rafe’s table, you avoided his eyes as you set his meal down, “Enjoy your meal.”

“When are you off?” His question took you by surprise. You were quick to hide your shock with a firm response, “When I feel like it.”

You were about to walk away but a hand reached out & snagged your wrist, “Want to get a drink later?”

Ripping your arm from his grip, you sneered down at him, “I’d rather drink bleach.”

Walking away from him, you gathered the polished silverware from your booth in the corner & took them to the kitchen. The cooks grumbled & glared as you entered the back but you ignored them. Your shift ended at 10 & the clock on the wall read 9:48. It wouldn’t be the first time you clocked-out early, & you knew you’d get another talk to about doing so, but you didn’t care. You had dealt with enough assholes for one day.

Surpassing the kitchen to a back hallway, you entered the women’s locker room. At your locker, you swung it open & begin pulling out your clothes. After changing & putting your uniform back in the locker, you put on your jacket & hung your purse over your shoulder. By the time you left the locker room, the cooks had cleared out from the kitchen. You re-entered the main part of the restaurant, intending on clocking out without saying another word to Rafe. You’d get your tip from serving him in the morning. But as you unwillingly peered in his direction, his table was empty.

“Where’s…?”

The bartender followed your line of sight, shrugging, “He wanted a box. Paid then left.”

“Oh.” You breathed out, evidently relieved you wouldn’t have to see or hear from him.

“Here.” The bartender handed you the familiar black plastic plate that held a receipt.

Rafe’s payment.

You accepted the plate & approached the POS system. You were pulling up his tab, preparing to enter the tip he left when you only realized just then that he had left none. Instead, on the tip line where you at least expected to see a 20% tip, was just a frowny face.

“Asshole!” You slammed the plastic plate down.

“What’s wrong?” The bartender asked from a few feet away.

Turning your glare onto him, you just shook your head, “Nothing.”

He raised his brows in disbelief but didn’t question further.

Tossing the receipt into a nearby trash, you angrily clocked out, waving your hand in dismissal as the bartender threw you a parting greeting. In the elevator, you felt your foot tapping irritably.

That fucking prick. You grumbled internally.

Once the elevator doors opened on the ground floor of the building, you stomped out, pulling your jacket tighter against you as you approached the main doors. It was late autumn & the weather was wicked outside. Fortunately, it was only two blocks to your apartment building, so you wouldn’t be in the heavy, chilly rain for long.

But just as you exited the building, your chin tucked into your chest, you heard your name being called. Pausing on the street & peering through the rainwater that had collected in your eyes, you spotted a sleek black Mercedes idling beside you in the street. Rafe Cameron sat behind the wheel.

“How ‘bout that drink?”

With his lack of a tip on top of you’re already bad mood, you stomped forward to lean into his passenger window, his untouched leftovers in the passenger seat.

“How ‘bout you take that steak & choke on it!” You sneered.

But Rafe only chuckled amusingly at that, “Still as fiery as ever.”

Tearing yourself away from his car, you began to walk away, but the light hum of a car’s engine continued to follow.

“Oh, c’mon. I was only giving you a hard time! I’ll still give you a tip.”

“Fuck you.” You hollered back through the rain, no longer interested in his tip.

“Well, that’s one way to tip, I’ll admit, just didn’t think it was how you preferred getting paid.”

His suggestive retort was not lost on you. But you refused to react. It’s what he wanted.

“C’mon!” Rafe laughed jovially from the warm & dry confines of his car, “I was just kidding! Hey, how ‘bout this?”

You rolled your eyes, wishing more than anything he’d pop a tire or run out of gas, but no such things ever happened.

“You come have a drink with me, & I’ll give you your well-deserved tip.”

You shook your head, smiling unimpressively to yourself.

“No?” Rafe called out, “How ‘bout $500?”

Now that, that made you stop in your tracks. You finally looked at him, narrowing your eyes suspiciously.

He only smiled charmingly.

“What’s the catch?” You questioned, not wanting to fully reveal that your time could indeed be bought for a measly $500, but it would give you means to go out & shop on your next day off, something you hadn’t done in quite some time.

“No catch.” Rafe shrugged, “Just the pleasure of your company & catching up with an old friend.”

“’Friend’ is a generous term.” You commented sucking your lip in between your teeth in contemplation.

“Interested or not?”

You sighed. He couldn’t have all the power, you couldn’t give in so easily.

“Make it $1000 & you have yourself a deal.”

Rafe scoffed at that but his grin only grew wider, “Thinking highly of yourself still, I see.”

You stepped forward, your arms crossed over your chest, “Interested or not?” You repeated his question with ten times the attitude.

A tense, challenging stare-off occurred as Rafe eyed you deep in thought. Then, just when you thought he would back out of the deal & you’d lose yourself $500, he moved his leftovers from the passenger seat to the back seat.

“Hop in.”

A winning smile appeared on your face.

One drink quickly turned into two. Then three. Then four, & after that you stopped keeping count, too inebriated to do so. Your bitchy & sassy attitude disappearing with every sip until all that was left was a sad & lonesome young woman.

Rafe insisted on driving you home & you didn’t have the energy to argue. Besides, you were so drunk that you were regrettably dependent on him to get you home, not nearly sober enough to trust yourself to get the job done.

He found a convenient spot in front of your building & you were forced to lean into him as he helped you into the lobby of your building. At that point you had trusted in your own abilities to get yourself the rest of the way up to your apartment but said nothing as Rafe helped you into the elevator before pressing a button for the 12th floor. You drunkenly frowned at that, not remembering having told him what floor you lived on. But the thought came & went & before you knew it your floor had arrived.

Rafe carried you against him as he led the way to your door without asking which one was yours. Another red flag raised in your mind but you shook it away. You must’ve said something at point in your alcohol-riddled brain. You leaned against the wall, reaching into your purse to fetch your keys but Rafe snagged the bag away from you, seeking them out himself. You peered at him through blurry vision as he sunk the keys into your door & swung it open.

Your apartment was a studio but luxurious enough to your tastes. As you stumbled forward into the kitchen, desperate for some water, you vaguely heard as Rafe closed the door behind the two of you, locking it.

His presence was no longer necessary but you didn’t trust yourself to say anything, knowing your speech would be embarrassingly slurred.

As you filled a glass with water from the sink, you felt a shadow appear behind you before a pair of hands found themselves on your hips & a warm set of lip began kissing along the side of your neck.

Your eyes widened at the unexpected come-on. As best as you could, you slithered out of Rafe’s grasp, subtly pushing him away. You placed the glass on the counter & glared at him.

“What are you… what are you doing?”

Rafe chuckled lightly at that, reaching for the top of your jacket & shoving it off you, “Getting my money’s worth.”

You’d be lying if you didn’t admit that his warm body pressed against yours & how his feather-light kisses going across your collarbone felt sinfully good, but it was his comment that forced you to shove him back harder.

“Speaking of,” you stabilized yourself against the counter, “pay up.”

Rafe sighed but reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, revealing a wad of cash before tossing it onto the counter.

The sound of the money slapping against your granite countertop was music to your ears. And it was all because you had a drink with a face from the past. You reached for the wad, intending on counting it but Rafe’s body pressed against your own once more, his hands deftly reaching for the hem of your crop top.

“Stop.” You grumbled, wriggling in his grip, your only care at that moment being for the money.

“It’s all there.” He said lowly, his lips kissing along your jawline.

“Ugh.” You made a sound of disgust when his tongue darted out to graze against the corner of your mouth.

Alright, enough was enough.

Using what little strength you had left, you shoved Rafe again, though this time much harder. He stumbled backwards & into your fridge, shaking the grocery objects on top of it.

“The fuck is your problem?” He growled in disbelief.

“I’m not a fucking whore.” You spit out, glaring hotly at him, “You said it was for a drink, I had a drink. You can leave now.”

Rafe’s eyes darkened at that as he stared at you. He pursed his lips then in irritation before reaching into his jacket once more. He produced another wad of money.

“Another $1000, that enough?”

You felt your heart quicken at what he was suggesting.

“No.” You responded as a pulsing started in your head. Damnit, you shouldn’t have drank as much as you had. “You couldn’t pay me enough to sleep with the likes of you.”

“The likes of me?” His brows raised in mild shock. “You mean someone with money? Isn’t that what you’re after? Someone to support your lifestyle?”

Well, yes, but you wouldn’t admit that to him of all people. And even if you had, you wouldn’t choose Rafe fucking Cameron to be your provider. It had occurred to you once before that you could always return home & seduce someone from the island, much like your mother had, but you wanted better than that. And Rafe Cameron was not better.

“Keep your money.” You snarled, “Now leave.”

Rafe bit his lip at that, shaking his head knowingly, “You & I both know I didn’t pay you $1000 for a fucking drink. I want one thing from you & you’re going to give it to me.”

His confession had your stomach twisting into knots, but you couldn’t show your fear or discomfort.

“No. A deal’s a deal. If you wanted more you should’ve been clearer.”

Rafe scoffed at that, “I offered you another grand & you spit in my face.”

“Like I said,” you glowered, “I’m not a whore.”

“Please, _____.” Rafe’s tone shifted as if he was explaining a complex concept to a child, “It runs in your blood.”

Boiling over with anger & motivated by the alcohol coursing your veins, you snatched his $1000 off the counter & threw it at him, “Then taking your fucking money.”

His face darkened as the wad of cash hit him square in the chest before dropping to the ground, $100 dollar bills littering your kitchen floor.

“I don’t want my money.” His eyes glared into your own, “I want you on your fucking back.”

Before you could react, Rafe closed the distance between the two of you, catching you by the throat as he dragged you from the kitchen to your bed nestled in a corner at the farthest end of your studio.

You landed on top of your bed with a resounding ‘oomph’ before Rafe shrugged his jacket off & climbed on top of you.

“Fucking stop it!” You raised your voice, your hands reaching blindly out to resist against him.

“Ya know, I was always curious about you in high school.” Rafe began as he wrestled with your raised arms, “Such a spoiled brat that had nothing to offer. I thought there had to be more to you, something that wasn’t predictable but I guess I was wrong. You’re just like your whore mother, thinking you’re just as upper-class as the rest of us, but you’re not. You’re a fucking phony. All you want is a man with money to take care of you.”

You couldn’t help the whimpers that came from you as Rafe fought with you to get your jeans off.

“I don’t need anyone!” You hollered.

“Oh, yes you do.” Rafe retorted harshly, “I’ve been watching you for a month now, having spotted you working that pitiful job of yours when I was there on a date. And I saw in you what your father saw in your mother. A poor little thing desperate for the finer things in life. Laughing & flirting your way into better tips & potentially a man. It was so obvious, so pathetic.”

He had been watching you. The admittance scared you more than you liked to admit.

“So, I figured ‘why not me’? At least for a while. Get my kicks in while you thought naively to yourself that I would supplement your tastes for however long. All I wanted was a taste, a way to knock you down a bit, but no, you even had the balls to reject me.”

A shudder parted your lips as you felt your jeans get ripped completely off you before Rafe began reaching for his own, his hand pressing against the center of your chest, holding you securely against your plush mattress.

“Me?” Rafe laughed maniacally, “I’m not even good enough for you?”

Reluctant tears forced their way out as your heart raced. This was really happening.

“You’re such a fucking….” Rafe paused to glare down at you with evident contempt, “bitch!”

A shrill scream tore from your throat but Rafe covered your mouth with his hand as he nestled himself between your legs. He didn’t even bother removing your underwear, just tugged them to the side, the elastic of them digging into the sensitive skin there as he forced his cock against your entrance.

You beat your fists against his back but it had no effect. And before you knew it, a white hot pain flashed before your eyes as Rafe tore into you, your hymen ripping in the process.

Rafe released a tense groan as he stilled above you, realization coming over him as he felt your untouched cunt fill with blood around him.

“Wow.” He breathed in mild surprise, “I’m honored.”

You kept crying, whimpering under his hand as he began to thrust, his movements harsh & painful against your pulsing center. Your walls were dry & burned with every stretch as he made himself a home within you.

He leaned down then, his lips hot against your skin as he kissed, licked, & nipped along your shoulder. Your vision blurred from the tears as you could only lie there & take it as he fucked you against your will.

You never had any idealized fantasies about when you would first have sex, not one of those foolish young girls who dreamt about saving themselves for ‘the right one’, but you did want to at least save your first time to be with someone who would be your end all. The idea of giving it to just anyone never sat well with you, even if it was what your mother had done for years before landing your father. And you loathed being anything like her, even if you knew deep down that you were exactly like her.

Rafe’s groans filled the studio space of your apartment & you desperately sought out anything else to distract yourself from the reality of your situation. Your eyes blinked through tears as you finally eyed the window above your bed. It was still raining outside but it had lightened at that point. Droplets dribbled down the pane of the glass. Your eyes would latch onto one, watching as it disappeared near the bottom before finding another, repeating the habit.

It felt like you were watching rain beat lightly against your window for hours before Rafe finally came. He fisted his hands in your hair, earning you a silent gasp as your body pulsed from his rough ministrations. He shuddered on top of you before collapsing against you.

You shook beneath him, licking at your dry parted lips, willing yourself to fall into a deep sleep & forget any of it had ever happened. But just as you felt your consciousness begin to sleep from exhaustion, Rafe chuckled against your neck.

“That was…something.” He pushed him upwards, your legs immediately pressing against one another the second he stood from the bed.

He gathered his jacket from the floor & put it back on, eyeing you in the dimly lit interior of your apartment as you stared unfeelingly at your ceiling.

A soft thud sounded by your head & you blinked, eyeing whatever was just thrown beside you. The second wad of $1000.

“Worth every penny.” Rafe commented, but followed it with salt for your literal open wound, “Though I’ve had better.”

You winced.

Sighing to himself, he stared out your window for some time before finally looking back at your used & abused form lying still on your bed.

“I already know you won’t run crying to mommy & daddy, let alone the cops, but just know that if you do, I’ve got more money where that came from. Much more. And you don’t want to be the sad little thing that cried ‘rape’ just to have it brushed under the carpet, do you?”

Rafe caught your jaw, forcing you to look at him. He feigned concern, “That would just be embarrassing.”

With what little energy you had left, you yanked your head from his grip, turning your back on him as you curled into a fetal position.

“Hmm.” Rafe exhaled heavily, his eyes burning into the center of your back, “Well, thanks for your time, _____. We should do it again soon.”

The possibility made you nauseous.

“After all, I know where you work. And live.” There was a devilish lilt to his tone, “So, don’t go far. I may get hungry for seconds.”

this is 8/10 requests from my 500 followers celebration request opening!

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#dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #dark!fic #dark!fanfiction #non con fic #outer banks fanfiction #dark!outer banks #bitch!

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mydaddywiki · 1 month ago

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Tim Ware

Physique: Husky Build Height: 6'3"

Tim Ware is an American actor how has been in over 60 films and television shows. He has appeared in many TV series including In the Heat of the Night, Reckless, Magic City and Rectify. He can also been seen in Transporter 2, Leaves of Grass, Remember the Titans and The Odd Life of Timothy Green.

Tall and handsome, Ware never seem to get the recognition he deserves. Primary reason is because he’s typically given small roles.

Ware was born and raised in Atlanta, GA, he attended Marist School in Atlanta and went to Duke University on a tennis scholarship where he majored in finance and received a minor degree in drama. Upon graduation he did a stint in the Marines. He then worked for his great uncle on his various business interests. After four years Tim moved on, becoming a firefighter for the City of Decatur Georgia. He studied under acting coach Uta Hagen. Several years later, he began doing stage work and has been acting ever since.

Lets see, of course he has a wife, Dee, kids; twin daughters, a stepdaughter and son, and 5 grandkids. He used to be a firefighter, loves golf and can fly a plane which fuels my Mile High Club fantasy. He has a wonderful, jolly look to him that makes think you can have a good time with him in and out of bed. Though he’s lost some weight in recent years (like a lot of chubby daddies lately) but I’d still happily jump into bed with this daddy.

RECOMMENDATIONS: Night School (2018) Sabotage (2014) Monster (2003) Remember the Titans (2000)

#Tim Ware #mydaddywiki actors

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forbebeandjam · 8 months ago

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STEP | BADA LEE X FEM READER | 21+

Summary: You see your first love for the first time in three years at your father's engagement party.

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: VERY Explicit language and scenes. SMUT!!! 21+ Ex. Thigh riding, fingering, etc... MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

READERS DISCRETION IS ADVICED

A/N: Hello •u• I am brand new to this app and I... I feel like a baby learning how to walk but l am also happy I got to find this app... again... after five years ANYWAY!! I bring this small piece of work I made hoping you'll like it!! I don’t know how often I’ll post on here but I’ll keep you updated ☺️ Also feel free to check out my Wattpad books!! And thank you @dearminaa for your help!! You are awesome!

P.S. apology for any mistakes or errors in grammar. English is not my first language!!

You sat in front of your vanity getting ready for the party. A party to congratulate your father's recent engagement.

You couldn't care less on who he decided to marry this time. It was probably the same as the last person he married. Young, stupid, and a gold digger that only wants his wealth but will end up failing and he will divorce her. You could never forgive him for cheating on your sick mother.

You blame him for her death because he decided to cheat while she was in the hospital and when you took her home for a while, you two found him in bed with some girl. You mother become depressed and died a few day after that

You tried to push aside those thoughts and get ready. You were still dependent on him after all and had plans to take the company away from him. As you fixed you blush, you did one more brush stroke and looked through your jewelry box.

There, you spotted a choker your first love had given you. You met her in high school. She was two years older than you but you love her like you've never loved anyone and she was always there to comfort you when your mother passed.

She was your first kiss, your first love, and your first girlfriend. The day she graduated she was offered a big scholarship in the United States and since she was poor she decided to take the opportunity. You become so mad at her that you pushed her away and broke up with her. A few days later you received a box with that necklace inside and you kept it to cherish the beautiful relationship you two had.

"You look gorgeous, honey," your father said as he hugged you. You didn't return the hug and just stood there.

"Be nice to her okay? She's had a rough life. She suffer a lot and I really like her. Please?" He said and you looked at him with a wry smile.

"How much do you think mom suffered when dying, knowing you were fucking the maids daughter?" You whispered in his ear.

"Stop that. I made a mistake and I regret it. It will haunt me for the rest of my life. Now try to be nice to her and drop the attitude," he whispered back making you roll your eyes and sit back down.

A few minutes went by and the so called fiancé was no where to be seen. You sighed resting your chin on you palm until you spotted a familiar figure. Tall, slim yet well built and the same hair from years ago. You bit your lip as a scream was about to escape your lips. You didn't know why she was there.

You followed her figure until she reached the table and with a big smile she greeted your father.

"Bada, my darling. Was there traffic on the way?" Your father said a she placed his hand around Bada's waist. She didn't answer and just nodded before turning to you.

"Oh! This is my daughter. Honey, greet your future step-," he said and you stood up. You couldn't form a sentence and were already about to bust in tears.

"Hi." You said in a quick manner before looking away. Her eyes were scanning each part of your body. The outfit you were wearing was driving her insane and she didn't know how to hold back from touching you... and she didn't.

She placed hand index finger and thumb under your chin and turned your head towards her. You were startled by her actions so you froze under her touch.

"She's beautiful," Bada said. Her eyes showed sincerity and warmth but you were too upset to see it. You took her hand and tossing it away you excuse yourself leaving the guests astonished by your actions.

"I'm sorry, darling. I'll go talk to her," your father said as he was about to get up but Bada held his arm.

"Let me. I think it's best if we have a conversation from woman to woman. I'll ease my way into her heart, okay? Don't worry,"

"Just how you eased your way into mine. You're just perfect," your father said and Bada gave him a soft smile before walking out the door you went through.

You wonder the halls of the mansion talking to yourself. You were beyond mad, confused, and heart broken. How could your first love be engaged to your father? Your heels clacked and suddenly you began to hear an additional set of footsteps. You looked back but there was no one so you assumed it was one of the servers hired for the party.

"After three years of not seeing or talking to me she shows up. And she's going to marry my father? How disgusting can he be? She swore she would come back to me and she's with him. She can go fuck herself for all I care. I hate her guts. She's so annoying yet so beautiful and... I want her so badly. Am I the sick one? Oh, for fuck sake! I'm talking to myself," you rambled on and on.

"How about you talk to me instead?" You jumped when you heard Bada's voice but immediately kept walking towards your room ignoring her presence next to you.

She grabbed your hand and pulled you into the room where she assumed was your room and she was right. She pushed you against the wall and you let out a squirm as she did so.

"Let me go, you psycho! What is wrong with you!?" You shouted and pushed her away from you. She stumbled a back and chuckled. You look at her with a scowl. How could she find this funny when your blood was boiling?

"You find this funny? You're an asshole," you pushed her to the side and sat on your vanity trying to ignore her so she would go away. Your mind was clouded with thoughts and emotions so you fumbled trying to get the necklace off of your neck.

Instead of walking out of the door, Bada walked up to you and moved your hair to the side. She carefully took the necklace off and you began to melt under her soft touch. She put it in your hand and you just placed it on the vanity not caring where it landed.

"Why... why are you marrying him? My dad. You said you would come back and... I waited. I waited for three years and when I finally see you again you are engaged to... that? Why the fuck!?" You shouted not holding back anymore. Your tears began to fall and she only softened her gaze.

She walked to you slowly and took you hand while you wiped your tears away.

"I'm not going to marry him. I came here for you, my love," she said as she cupped your face.

"Don't. Don't do this Bada. If you're just going to break my heart and walk away from me again, just leave and go with my father," you said looking away but she pulled you into an embrace.

"Baby, look at me. I would never leave you again. Never again. I'll do everything I can to be next to you always..." he hand traveled from your cheek to your exposed shoulder. You shivered at her touch and then she planted a kiss on your shoulder making you bite your lip to prevent any noises from escaping your mouth.

"You have no idea how much I longed to touch you. To kiss you and make you mine. That is all I could think about. You wouldn't leave my mind for one second all I could think about was for a way to come back to you," she whispered into your ear as she walked. You took small step back until your legs hit the bed.

Her hands were on your arms and her gentle touch made it hard for you to hold back. You used your hand to create some space between you and her. You couldn't deny that you wanted her to touch you. You wanted her to make you her but you were sacred. Not if your dad. Never if your dad. He was a weak man after all, but she was engaged to him.

"Please promise me that you won't leave. That after this, you won't walk away from me. I will run away with you if we need to but please don't continue this if you can't promise me that," you said as you closed your eyes.

She cupped your face and you opened your eyes at the sudden skin contact.

"I promise with my life. I will never even again leave, my love. I will stay by your side and we can do whatever you want. We can stay or run away and I will be there because I love you and I should've never left but I had to think of my mother. Please understand. I'm so sorry," a tear escaped her eyes as she was practically begging for you to forgive her and understand her reasoning and you did.

You nodded and wiped her tears before kissing her lips. You kissed her hungrily and she responded with the same intensity. The kiss become for sloppy and wet as snacking sounds began to fill the room. You thanked your father for the first time for making the rooms sound proof.

"Tell me you want it. Tell me how you want it and how badly you want it. Tell me what you want," Bada said as she left love bites in your neck.

"I want you. I want all of you. I want you to touch me everywhere. I want you to fuck me, please," you said and let out a loud moan as she dragged her tongue across your collarbone.

"I didn't know you were so needy, my love. But you're such a good girl using your nice words for me," Bada said as she pushed you lightly on the bed. Your legs were slightly parted and she took the opportunity to crawl on top of you placing her knee in between your legs and slight pushing into your folds.

You moaned at the contact and moved your hips searching for more friction but her hands immediately went to your hips to halt your movements.

"Wait a minute, baby. I want to be the one to please you," she said sending you over the edge. You bit your lip and groaned in desperation . You need her touch. You wanted her so badly and when you opened and saw her remover her bra you almost came untouched letting out whispers and moans

"Calm down, baby. I'm all yours and I'm not going anywhere," she said as she lowered herself on you. She admired how your legas partner with no shorts and your panties were soaked. She pulled them down and kissed right above your sensitive bud making you part your legs even more. You wanted her and you couldn't handle any more emptiness.

"Bada, please..." you whispered.

"Yes, my love. Anything for you,"she immediately attacked you clit with her tongue and used her hand to pull you dress down revealing your tender breast and she didn't hesitate to begins massaging it as her tongue flicked on your bud in all the right ways that were making you let out moan after moan.

Your nipples were perky and sensitive and she let go of them to instead one finger into you. You were still a virgin so you felt a bit of pain as you felt her go in a cried out loud. She looked up at you. You were the most beautiful thing. Your skin glistened as small beads of sweat formed on your forehead. Your face was flushed in a a bright pink color and she moved up to kiss you tenderly still inside of you.

"It's okay. I'll be gentle. See?" She said as she began to slowly move her finger allowing you to adjust to the feeling. She placed soft kisses on your cheeks, forehead, lips, and chest helping you ease out the pain.

You slowly began to moan in please as you felt the pain dissipate and she sped up a little. You lips were slightly parted and your hand made it way to her breast. The soft skin was so pleasant you wanted to taste it. Using you elbows, you pushed yourself up and put her nipple in you mouth sucking and lightly tugging with your teeth. She began to let out soft and deep moans.

"That feels so good, my love. I'm going to add another finger okay, lay down for me and hold my hand," she intertwined your hands together.

She added a second finger and you felt like you were levitating as her warm tongue assaulted your clit. You felt her curl her fingers inside of you and you clenched around her as you felt an odd sensation at the pit of your stomach.

"Bada... Bada, fuck~ please. Let me cum please!" You begged as you back lifted from the mattress. She slowed down her pace making you take a a hold of her hair and tugging.

"That wasn't nice, my love," she completely pulled out leaving you feeling empty and a tear rolled down your cheek.

"I'm sorry. I just need you. Please~" you whined softly as your eyes begged for release.

"Please what?" She asked.

"Please, baby. Please, Bada," you said and she smiled as she thrusted into you with great force. You yelled at the unexpected motion but you began to moan as her tongue started to work on your bud once again but this time she was slight biting down making you shout her name in pleasure. A pleasure you had never experienced before and when you least expected you released on her feeling a pulsating feeling as she licked you clean and then her fingers.

"You taste so good, my love. All of these years of waiting finally paid off. Now helped me," she said. You were still trying to come back to your senses as everything was blurry and you could only see how she was undressing herself. Your dress was now bunched on your waist.

She hovered above you and you felt a wet warmth on your thigh. When your vision was finally adjusted, you saw her beautiful figure on top of you. Her fringe stuck to her forehead as she was riding your thigh trying to reach her high.

Your hands traveled down to her waist as you helped her ride you. You used one of your hands to rub on your clit once more and she watched you actions letting out shaky breaths and moans biting her lip.

"You look beautiful riding me like that, baby. Keep going. Cum for me. Cum in me please," you said making her roll her eyes back as her hands rested on your breast for support and with a loud moan she came on your thigh. You sided your fingers to collect her juices and taste her the way she did with you.

"Fuck, that was so good,"you said and she collapsed on top of you. The two of you lay there for a few minutes as you were still throbbing with pleasure and catching your breath.

After a few minutes, Bada fixed your position removing the dress you had on and you both cuddled your bare bodies under the covers.

"Thank you," you said. Bada pulled you closer to her.

"For what, my love?" She asked as she planted multiple kisses on your shoulder.

"For this. For coming back and for loving me," you replied as you turned your body to face her and play with a stand of her hair. You admired her body. Beautiful as always. Then when you saw a ring on her finger, it hit you. She was way out to marry your dad and you just let her fuck you... You felt like a monster. You were no different than your dad.

"Bada, I think this was a mistake. You're marrying my father and this doesn't make me any better than him," you said on the verge of tears but she quickly embraced you.

"How about we go down and I explain everything to you. Trust me, okay? Nothing is what it seems," she helped you stand up and you both got dressed. You fixed you hair into a high ponytail and fixed your makeup as well when you noticed how messy your face looked.

Bada also fixed herself and held you hand. You made your way down the stairs and into the big hall where majority of the guests had already gone home. That's when you saw you father kissing a woman around his age. You furrowed your brows in confusion.

"Mom!" Bada shouted and the woman turned to you with a bright smile.

"This is, Y/N. The girl I always told you about," Bada said and the lady pulled you into a hug.

"Wow! You're even prettier in person. I'm so glad I get to finally meet you. Bada and your father have talked wonders about you and do not feel pressured to call me mom or step mom. You can just call me Haneul," the woman said and you started to put the pieces together.

"I'll go to your father now. He seems to need me but let's all go on a ladies fun day one of these days. Bye girls. Y/N, honey... cover your neck," she said and waved before walking off.

Your face tired a bright shade of pink making Bada laugh. Bada pulled you out to the balcony where there was no one around before anyone could see the marks she left on your neck.

"You see? I'm not marrying your father. My mom is. When I saw her get engaged and I saw your father I didn't hesitate one second to leave it all behind and come here with you," she said and you internally smacked your face at how dumb and clueless you had been.

"I'm sorry, Bada. I should've listened and now I just feel stupid," you said as you lowered your head. She used her index finger and thumb to raise your chin and kiss your lips with tenderness and love.

"It's okay. I'm here and I'm here to stay. I love you so much," she said and connect your forged with hers.

"I guess now we are even," you said making her chuckle. She hugged you from behind placing her chin on your shoulder and you two watched the sunset with sweet kisses and soft laughs.

#bada lee #bada x reader #bada lee smut #street woman fighter 2 #honeybee156 #forbebeandjam #Bada #bada lee imagine

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esggs · 3 months ago

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College Major Headcanons:

[Extra content for The Homo Economicus in Love - noritoshi kamo x reader, cute college au]

Yuuji Itadori - Media Studies, on a full sports scholarship even though he's not too interested in sports. He doesn't show up to practice that much but carries the team in tournaments. Not really very academically inclined but everyone he meets loves him so much that he's gotten a shit ton of internships and work experience just cuz he's nice to work with. Stays on campus dorms.

Nobara Kugisaki - Fashion Merchandising (yay legally blonde). Another one who's not very academically inclined but does great at the practical aspects of the job. Gets 40% off on tuition, but has some funds from her grandma. also gets money from her fashion blog, part-time jobs at fashion mags, and manages clothing for photoshoots on a freelance basis (if she commits she commits). Saves on residence by renting with Inumaki and Panda.

Megumi Fushiguro - Computer Science with a minor in Math. Full scholarship and bursary grant by the college due to his shitty financial conditions (orphaned and destitute at a young age). Prof Gojo is his legal guardian. grew up in and stays on campus dorms.

Maki Zenin - Star Athlete, literally training for the Olympics. Her degree is in Mass Communications but she doesn't actually have to attend classes cuz the Uni wants her to focus on sports. Disowned by her family. Full sports scholarship and occasionally gets sponsored by sportswear companies. Trying to go pro.

Yuuta Okkotsu - Sociology and Anthropolgy. He enjoys talking to and meeting people and works as a part-time Journalist for local news channels to bring attention to issues like poverty. Gets a bursary grant from the uni, gets paid for and is decently recognized for his journalism work. Both Geto and Gojo want to mentor him. He talks to himself when he's alone but that's a secret.

Toge Inumaki - Architectural Design, chose this degree just for the hell of it, is a solid B+ student. Has a YouTube gaming and ASMR channel with 200k followers but is struggling to monetize it profitably. Got in on legacy admissions but gets a sports scholarship of 30% (he's pretty good at athletics)

Panda - ???

Noritoshi Kamo - Economics and Finance, specializing in Private Equity and Investment Banking. he's the heir of the Kamo Conglomerate. Full legacy admission even though he graduated valedictorian of high school and is the captain of the Archery team.

Todo Aoi - Quantum Physics. he's literally the top student of every class he takes. he keeps taking random other classes from different majors based on his whims. his genius was recognised and personally mentored by Yuki Tsukumo, but is now undergoing formal college education for the certificate even though he already knows all this and more. he spends half the day in the gym and the other half streaming Takada-chan variety clips.

Mai Zenin - Economics and Finance, her family made her take it. good at academics even though she's not super into it. legacy admission.

Momo Nishimiya - Literature and Creative Writing. She posts regularly for a gender and sexuality magazine. loves nobara's blog.

Miwa Kasumi - Computer Science with a minor in Software Engineering. She just wanted a degree that would lead to a well-paying job. Cabinet Member of the Student Council. She vouched a lot for Mechamaru/Kokichi to get disability-friendly accommodation. she struggles a bit with academics but pulls through with A- all around. Kokichi/Mechamaru helps her if she finds something particularly difficult to understand. has her own campus residence but has practically moved in with Kokichi.

Arata Nitta - Health and Medicine, focusing on Emergency Care Medicine. he TAs for Prof Shoko's classes. his sister works in college admin office. has campus residence but mostly stays in the college affilitated hospital, bit of an over-worker.

Mechamaru/ Kokichi Muta - double major in Computer Science and Mechanical Engineering. Another top student of his classes. Found it a bit difficult to adjust to campus life at first (not enough disability accommodation) but with Miwa's help he got around. campus dorm with Miwa.

Professors!

Gojo Satoru - graduated from top Ivy colleges, has 5 PhDs, and wrote 1000 papers and books, and is the one of the most respected physicist in the world but insists on teaching Intro-level Physics and Math. drives a Bugatti to college. highly competitive relative grading. prescribes his own books for his class. expect a problem set every day after class. gives a lot of individual attention to students tho, n is very nice in general. he'll accept a late submission if u bring him sweets. his lockscreen is prof geto?

Geto Suguru - teaches one class named Ethics, Philosophy and Law every semester. doesn't answer questions over email, only during Office Hours. great at explaining difficult concepts, his course is the one students fight to get into and say "opened their eyes". has a devoted cult of worshipping students, voted student favorite every year. his adopted daughters took a gap year to travel abroad and he talks about them in class. he always has sweets in his pockets?

Utahime Iori - teaches modules on Economics, Politics and Philosophy courses. great teacher, very clear explanations, bumps up the grading slightly (absolute grading) and is very accommodating as a prof. hates getting emails at night tho.

Shoko Ieiri - Shitty ass prof tbh but everyone takes her class cuz she gives everyone an A. teaches Surgical Anatomy. focuses on practical experience rather than theory. she has a no attendance policy and takes few very exams or assignments.

Yuki Tsukomo - Visiting Faculty, takes one super high level class Quantum Physical Theory one semester and comes back after 4 years. Independent researcher funded by the uni.

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turquoizxe · 1 year ago

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𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮

Hobart “Hobie” Brown x Spider!Fem!Reader

Author’s Note: I just want to sincerely apologize for the delay in this post, as I have been traveling out of my hometown the past few days. However, my favorite punk is still my current brain rot lmao. The second installation is already in progress, and hopefully as I have planned, it will be out by the date I posted below( after the conclusion of the first chapter). Thank you all for for love you showed on the series announcement! As I have stated in my earlier post, I haven’t written a fan fiction in over two years, dealing with school and other things in life. Please express your thoughts throughout the series and comment! I was a little nervous because I’ve never written anyone from the UK, especially with such a thick accent. Please, share your thoughts. Thank you for your understanding, and you may begin reading.

With Love,

— Turquoizxe.

Installation (1/5) : ‘Dodgy’

Rating ― Mature (17+)

➝ Hobie has been distancing himself quite a bit lately. You feel froggy enough to follow him and enter the world, to what is known to be the Spiderverse. He seems to enjoy your brave gesture, but he quickly realizes why you weren’t invited to join the club.

𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 ―fluff, heavily plot based, meeting existing ATSV Characters…

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 ― ATSV SPOILERS! Minor use of language and swearing, romantic tension, minor acts of violence, Hobie’s teasing, Miguel being himself, Beef w/ Jessica Drew…

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 ― 3.6k

Dodgy; can be a synonym for dangerous, bad or untrustworthy

As much as you kept to yourself, it was hard to imagine that you would make any friends outside of your suite mates. Your eyes were always harassing a piece of literature, involved in extracurricular activities, and keeping track of random facts no one would need in their everyday lives. Nothing short of the perfect student.

"[Name], this is the fifth time you’ve been in my office in two weeks-”

“Okay, four if you don’t count the rant about my psychology professor.”

You were always an academic achiever, graduating with honors and holding the title of salutatorian in your class. Being accepted into your dream school, earning enough scholarships to cover most of your tuition.

Yet, here you were, looking for ways to save your grades with finals around the corner. Had it been a year ago, you wouldn’t have to worry. That was until you were bit by a radioactive spider the one time you decided to skip studying and attend the most underwhelming frat party that your suite was raving about.

“You’re on the verge of losing your scholarships. $25,000 a year on the line, and you tell me all the time about how hard to your parents are working to cover the rest of your tuition.”

And you knew you couldn’t afford to stay if you didn’t work your ass off to pull through. You didn’t think being spider-woman could be so stressful. Patrols have gotten more hectic, and the late nights have been affecting your attention span in class, and even less energy to do your work. It felt so easy in the beginning, and everything was good until it wasn’t.

You felt a sting on your cheek, your tears sliding past your injury from patrol, and you felt yourself become small as you placed your face in your hands, wondering how something you’ve worked so hard for is a letter grade away from being lost.

Your counselor heaves a heavy sigh, sliding tissues across their desk to you. In just a few weeks you went from acquaintances to friends.

“Look, you’re a great kid, we didn’t have this issue your freshmen year. I know it only gets tougher from here, but you can’t fight this on your own. It’s never too late to accept help.” They started typing on their computer, ringing up your transcript and current grades for the semester. A sudden swish of wind flows through the office, following the trills of birds off in the distance your counselor scoffs at the noise and walks over to close the window. They return back to their seat, muttering intelligible, the only word you could pick up, ‘spiderwoman’.

“What about spiderwoman?”

“Oh! I just kinda thought how weird it was for another spiderman to show up when we already have a hero. Funny, I didn’t know there could be multip-”

“There’s a spider-man?”

You stammered. You felt a heat in your body, another superhero here that you weren’t even sure about.

“As much as you know about everything, I thought you would hear about the spotting of a spider-man in the city. They seem to stick close to campus.”

“Any proof?”

“No. Just words, but if there’s one spider-person, why not two?”

You could feel your blood course through your veins from the new information. It was just you, unless your old mentor, Peter, came to visit. You were knocked out of your thoughts when your name was called.

“As of now, you have a 2.0,″ your counselor stated. “Your classes seem more work oriented, and out of your five classes, you only have two finals.”

You slowly looked up from your lap.

“I’ve read the syllabus, taken notes of what to study for and what to work on. It’s just-”, you stammer, not able to give them the honest truth.

“See? You already took the steps to better yourself, don’t stress, and pace yourself, you have a month left kid.”

You let out a small chuckle. More than 20 missing assignments shouldn’t be too bad to juggle, right?

You were lying to yourself, you were going to suffer, but for a positive outcome, you didn’t mind. You got yourself together, sniffling softly as you packed your things.

“I don’t wanna kick you out, but I do have to meet with the Dean-”

“You mean your lov-”

You were cut short by a small stuffed animal flying towards you, your reflexes doing you justice before the soft material made contact with your face, slamming the door, gaining a small audience as eyes turned to you.

“Sorry everyone.”

Now, for the real fun to begin, you can at least spend some time with a special someone before your academic weapon tendencies are in full force.

The night you met him, it felt like one of those nightmares that would be impossible to wake from. To you, it was a dream.

His aura, and appearance on that stage. You were enamored with his attitude. His thick accent, strumming his guitar as his eyes bored into yours. This was one of the few times you didn’t mind that you skipped class for.

After the concert, you went to refill your water bottle before your walk back to your apartment in the damning heat. You saw him, drenched in sweat, guitar on his back, hunched over, and visibly upset that the water fountain was not doing it’s job. He looks in your direction, his expression making you anxious. Yet, you were still willing to help. You essentially escorted him to your dorm, where the water system was in a decent condition. He had pretty strong opinions about the education system and society in general, though you did appreciate his intellect.

“It’s a load of tosh for ya’ to pay so much for a piece of rubbish.”

The ways he seemed so sure of himself more often than not made you intrigued, and he was more than happy to indulge you, being nearly distracted from the fact that Satan decided to sit his bare ass cheeks on the Earth that day. He gave you his number, and from then on, he would come see you whenever you both had the time, which was rough, considering the current mess that was your life. He was the only person you felt cared enough to step you out of your comfort zone.

The night walks on campus, your medusa piercing that he compliments all the time.

“It accentuates your features. Peng ting you are, yeah?”

Your eyebrows furrowed, a deep chuckle erupting from his throat

“Means you’re hot.”

He gets it. He gets you. And sometimes, you thought that maybe what you were feeling would never go away when you’re with him. Your hangouts were more often casual, leading to more intimate moments, mentioning him to your family, and him teaching you how to play his guitar. You began to feel it linger, when you knew you both didn’t want to say goodnight.

The immediate thought of it also breaks you.

You’ve felt that he’s been dodging you and your attempts to reach out as of late. It’s been weeks since you’ve last seen Hobie, and this time, he initiates to meet. It’s late in the night, and he’s late. You couldn’t remember the last time you were this mad at him, or if you ever got upset with him at all. You didn’t like how he started to drift away with no explanation, and instead of anger, you were filled with worry, wondering if the time you were spending together was beginning to put a strain on him. You paced around your living room, muttering words and contemplating sending an annoyingly long paragraph of a text that would make it seem like you were dumping him.

“S’mitten for me, are you love?”

You looked up at your window, the tall brit leaning on the emergency stairs, making himself at home as you pulled away.

“In your dreams, Brown.”

He walks up to you, his lanky frame hovering over you so expectantly. You looked down at your feet, almost embarrassed of your newfound feelings, and you feel even more giddy when he stands close to you. He knew that you liked him, but teasing you was his second favorite pastime besides hanging out with you. You walked away to your kitchen, grabbing an energy drink for the both of you. Silence did not exist when you were together, and the awkwardness of it all was not helping. He bit his lip, his teeth caught in his piercing. He knew he was in trouble.

“I know you’re upset.”

“Hobs, you were supposed to be here 2 hours ago, I understand being busy but I thought you were seriously hurt or something”, you exclaimed, turning away from him. Showing up late was a recurring issue with him, and you’ve had just about enough.

“Oh don’t get cheeky now. You’ve been neglectin’ your studies. A bit daft if you ask me.”

You’re eye twitched at his use of his slang, sometimes you didn’t always need him to explain to know that what he was saying had negative connotations.

“That’s none of your concern, it’s you I’m worried about.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he smirks. There wouldn’t be a point in arguing with him about this, handing him his drink, turning on your television, starting the episode of your favorite series where you had both left off.

You sat farther away from him than usual, occasionally glancing in his direction, and unfortunately, he was staring right back at you, even more intense.

“I don’t bite, unless ya’ ask,” he teases, softly patting a seat closer to him, and you oblige. It wasn’t like you weren’t happy to see him, and he chuckles at your annoyed compliance. It was becoming an awkward staring contest, and you quickly lost track of the media playing on your screen. You open your mouth, just out of curiosity.

“So, how’s life treating you?”

“Fighting fascists, new piercings, performin’, ” he looks over to you, taking another sip of his drink, awaiting for a life update on your part. You bit your lip, anxiety getting the best of you. Despite the closer proximity, you still felt to far away from him. He sighs, using his leg to move your body to face him. You quiver, tears threatening to spill from your face once again, but you still looked up.

He looked at you, seeming nonchalant, but you still felt the worry in his aura.

“I know you want me to squash it, but it’s obvious s’omething bigger is bothering you,” he softly speaks, his thumb circling into your knee. “You act as if you’re scared of somethin’— of someone.”

Hobie scoots closer to you, using guiding your chin to make you look at him directly for the first time tonight.

“Talk t’me.”

You shake away from him, that feeling in the pit of your stomach only becoming more intense.

“I can’t tell you everything, Hobs.”

“But you can tell me anythin’, yeah?”

You look up, his face was close to you now, not realizing that you were nothing leaning into each other the more you spoke. His hand, slowly sliding to your hips, slowly stroking your stretch marks that your shirt wasn’t covering. You looked into his eyes, a small smile showing.

“There she is,” he exaggerates, giving you a soft squeeze, and you let out a giggle. The moment was yet again, cut short by that annoying ass beep from his wristwatch, that has interrupted your meaningful conversations countless times. Hobie curses from under his breath, backing away from you, the light illuminating his flawless features. And just like that, the moment has passed. His eyes look up to you, disproval in your expression, and you knew what was coming next, so you did it for him.

“Just go.”

Hobie let out a deep sigh before apologizing for what felt like the thousandth time, knowing he would do this the next time you make an attempt to make time for each other.

But this time, you were going to figure out why.

—

As soon as he had left, your senses went off. And this was the last time you were going to ignore them.

You had quickly went off into your room after he left, frantically throwing around your belongings to find your suit before Hobie got too far from you. You had followed him, all the way to an one of the abandoned buildings on campus that was currently under renovation. You stood behind a slab of concrete, peeking from the side, watching as he walked through a portal as if it were just another day.

But you saw, and now you knew. Your suspicions proved you right once again.

You flicked your wrist, webbing into the portal before it closed in on you.

And now, there you were, caught by Hobie after catching your ankle so you wouldn’t plunge to certain death after following him through his portal, seeking nothing but a dark abyss before you, seeming bottomless.

You turned towards him, a smirk plastered across his face.

“I fuckin’ knew it.”

You webbed free from his grip, finding ground. You looked at his appearance, and now you knew why he wore such familiar colors. Your suit hugged your body, adorned in your favorite colors, riddled with black accents. Hobie looked you up and down, whistling in admiration, while you took in your surroundings. HQ did not look like this at all when you first arrived.

“Place look familiar?”

You had brushed yourself off, taking in the countless people that had suits similar to yours. The unique design of the interior, and many, many, familiar faces.

“The Spiderverse.”

“Hey I call it the same thing!”

You turned in the direction of the speaker, a young boy standing in front of you. He had a black suit, red accents riddled across, two other spider men following behind you, staring at you in admiration.

“I’m Miles!”

You were still floored by all that had occurred in just a few moments. Slowly, you raised your hand, waving to the kid, smiling at him.

“Hi Miles, I’m [Name].”

“Oh, Hobie! Did we get a new recruit?”

A spider woman in a white suit walked up behind him, her pink hair flowing, and eyes that could manipulate a way to your heart.

“I’m Gwen, and this one here Is Pavitr!” Both greet themselves which such joy to see you. You almost felt as if you were back home, introducing yourself to who seemed to be Hobie’s colleagues. You expected him to be upset with you for following him, or keeping your identity as spiderwoman a secret, or vice versa. Yet, he’s seeing you in a new light, a personality that didn’t exist in your world. You would only ever smile like this if it was truly something or someone you cared about. You both would know that.

“Alright kids, follow me!”

The voice felt all too familiar, the oozing confidence in her demands making you cringe instantly, and you turn to see no other than Jessica Drew herself. You stared blankly, a sigh of irritation, your bubbly personality disappearing almost instantly.

“Jessica..”

She started at you, her face turning into a small scowl before turning back around, motioning the group of teens to follow her, but not before throwing a day pass in your direction. It was hard for them to pay attention when they were too focused on your sudden change of demeanor. Hobie walked beside you, brushing against your hand to catch your attention.

“What’s the tea with you two, ey?”

Your side eye is critical when you look towards him, signaling that you didn’t want to talk about it. He grunts before shrugging it off, still walking close to you. You watched Miles as he introduced himself to everyone, completely enamored with his surroundings. All that you could conclude from this, is that he was new. But while he was looking at everyone else, they were all looking at you. You heard the mutters and whispers amongst them as the HQ went into a deafening silence. You could feel Hobie’s gaze on you, sliding his arm around your waist for comfort.

“Piss off. Go back to what you were doin’.”

Quickly, they did what they were told, but you could still hear the voices of some conversing about you. And Hobie could hear it too.

“I didn’t think they’d let her come back.”

“Maybe they caught her sneaking in, they did say she never gave her watch back.”

He looks to your side, still silent as he watches your body tense up from their words. Maybe he wasn’t the only one acting dodgy.

You look ahead, looking at the lair that belongs to the man you used to call your boss. You felt Hobie release his grip from you to catch up with Miles, watching closely as he walked around him, fidgeting with materials and grabbing small objects. The young teen seemed stressed about something, making you just as anxious. You heard him expressing his frustrations about not having a watch, Hobie suggesting to Miles that he make his own.

You had forgotten how big this room was, and you wished it was longer by the time you got to the main event. He descended from his pad, multiple screens could be seen, one of which you could see showed your last conversation with Hobie at your apartment. Miles and Gwen walked up to him, Miles eager to introduce himself, holding a small box of food. Hobie held you back, watching you stare at the sight before you in amazement.

The moment quickly dissipated once you saw the Miguel everyone knew, his violence showing its face rather quickly, throwing an item in Miles direction. With quick reaction, your web caught onto the object, throwing it to a forgotten corner, showing yourself to him. He chuckled, his expression gleamed with frustrations and anger.

“I knew you would be here.”

“Your favorite disappointment could never miss out on a good time.”

Glaring at one another, everyone could feel the tension, so thick it was possible to cut it with a knife. Hobie watched from afar, reading for whatever should come next. That is until you felt the joyous cries of a child, turning to see a grown man in a pink robe. Instantly, you felt a wave of tears washing over you, Peter calling your name as soon as you ran into his arms.

“I missed you kid.”

Miles shared the excitement, walking up to Peter, also capturing him in an embrace. Miles looked at you in awe once more, wondering how you knew him.

“He was my mentor.”

“That’s crazy, me too!”

You heard Miguel groan, echoing throughout the room, Peter ignoring him, and telling you and Miles to do the same. You once again here the coos of a child, looking in the direction, a baby crawling across the wall. You excitedly exclaim with Miles, “You had a baby!”

Peter laughs sheepishly, yelling for his daughter, telling her to make sure she kept her day pass on, clearly in her own world.

Once again, the atmosphere changed dramatically, Miguel stepping down from his pad, Miles following, both engaging in a rather lengthy conversation about canon events. That’s when you started to shake, Gwen and Hobie looking at you with worry. Still, you held your ground, listening to Miguel explain the Spiderverse to Miles, the timelines, and the unfortunate events that occurs to just about every Spider-person. You saw the young teen grow anxious, beginning to mention his dad, and how he becomes captain in just a few days. Miles grows impatient and restless, and arguing that he shouldn’t sit here and let his father die. Miles looked to his colleagues, searching for confirmation. They all looked away, proving the timeline to be correct. Miguel turns toward you, motioning Miles to look in your direction.

“Your friend here believed the same thing.”

You felt everyone’s eyes on you, feeling as small as Miguel once made you feel. You looked at Miles, ready to hang onto every word you as you began to open your mouth to speak, but you looked away.

“Go on, tell him, [Name].”

You sucked up your sniffles, having to relive that memory constantly felt dehumanizing.

“I….I had a friend, who believed the same thing you did. She wanted to be able to save her parents, to be able to do both, and live the perfect life.”

You felt your chest tighten, yet urged yourself to continue.

“I ended up getting her killed, and destroyed her Universe.”

You heard Miles let out a gasp, you looked to Hobie, his eyes wide, and you couldn’t decipher his emotion. Miles turned back to Miguel, demanding that he be returned home. He refused, locking him in. They had all began to walk away, apologizing that it had to end like this. Well, not on your watch, but it seems that Hobie beat you to it.

A flash of light, knocking everything and everyone on their ass, you chuckled at the gesture. Miles was still in shock, quickly recovering, running off into the headquarters. Miguel runs after the kid, everyone following behind. You felt a arm wrap around your waist, a portal opening. Before pulling you both through, Hobie declaring his standing with the league.

“And for the record, I quit.”

—

You were back in the comfort of your own home, dressed in your lounge clothes, while your suit in the washer. Hobie had flew you home, as there was no reason to hide it anymore. Now, it was an uncomfortable silence, the two of you haven’t spoke since you left the headquarters. Hobie was getting ready to head out, his back turned to you, but not until you made yourself clear.

“We can’t come back from this.”

You looked up, his eyes staring back at you as he turned to you. The moon illuminated his smile, responding casually.

“Maybe that’s a good thing.”

And then he was gone, and you didn’t know when he would be back.

Or if he ever would be.

Installation (2/5) : ‘Piss Off’ — Released!

‘Just For You’ Masterlist for previous/future installations

ᴛᴀɢꜱ!

@darkphantommagazine

@von-studios

@vickyzangels

@roseluxxx

@cupcakekiss

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ultralightpoe · 1 year ago

Note

Can you do something with eddie and someone from scream? That don't really make sense but like the reader is a survivor of ghostface and kind celebrity for it. Like Sydney through the movies? There would be a time change but like that? That would be so amazing. I would give my left nut for that tbh. I don't have a left nut. But i gove one if I could.

Final Girl - Eddie Munson

Authors Note: This was from march, and I am cleaning out my drafts for y'all

Warnings: Slasher, wounds, eddie being a confused lil bug.

Word Count: 3813

Description: Eddie meets a final girl, and apparently trauma bonds

Enjoy!

College life sucked.

This wasn’t an actual shock to Eddie Munson, since he had never been great at school in the first place. Come on, he had been a super senior. Eddie Munson, who normally spent his life in fantasy could at least be realistic about ONE thing, he was not really meant for school.

But…. not many people got a second chance at life and not many people were given a full ride scholarship from the government.

Jason Carver, the ‘King of Hawkins High’, had taken the fall for Chrissy Cunningham. Eddie was released of any and all convictions, and the government had ‘thanked’ him. But he didn’t stop there, Eddie demanded something in return since he nearly died from the bats. So, Eddie Munson the super senior graduated with the help of his friends and Eddie Munson got a full ride scholarship from the government.

Wayne was able to open up his own contracting business and Eddie was able to move to his new college knowing that he would not die in Hawkins.

But that meant actually attending classes in college, something that Eddie found himself despising. More grumpy than not in the mornings he found himself ignoring the life around him, grumbling to himself as he trudged through the autumn leaves, his converse beginning to soak through from the rain that drenched the earth.

There was one good thing about mornings though, and that was who he sat by in his intro to Shakespeare class….You.

You were everything. Or at least Eddie thought so.

You always had a book with you in class, mostly fantasy which drew him in. You always looked angelic, even on days where you definitely just woke up, and most importantly you never talked to him like he was stupid which most people at this school had done. But most importantly he liked that you seemed to be fine on your own, whereas most of the class was desperate for friends. You were just fine sitting in the back like you didn’t care.

But that led to his next problem, he desperately wanted to get to know you.

He had tried to make conversation in the past, but the words never came out right and class was always packed with work so he never really got the chance to break the ice with you, but everyday he told himself that ‘Today is the day I’m going to talk to her’.

So he talked himself up on the way to class, fixing his rings as he tried not to focus on how cold his feet were before he was sitting beside you, the chain on his pants scraping in the chair as everyone bustled to their seats around him.

He waits patiently for you to join the class, taking a moment to survey the room of all your other shared classmates.

The front row held a cheerleader that reminded him of Chrissy, the sweet angelic smile and the same ponytail, the only problem was he had heard this version say a few icy things to her classmates and Eddie liked to think that Chrissy would have never.

There was a kid named Paul that sat just a row below him, three seats to the right. Whereas Eddie was more of a leather jacket rock and roll type Paul was all about the punk, mohawk dyed neon colors and piercings decking out his face. He always gave Eddie a rock on sign whenever they made eye contact and Eddie liked the minor alliance.

Before he could recognize anyone else you were pulling into your seat, rubbing your arm as if you were in pain as Eddie whips to smile at you. He gets nervous when you raise an eyebrow before giving him a tight lipped smile like he was crazy, then he realizes that his smile was a little too wide and he was the one sending crazy vibes so he simply clears his throat and taps his pencil on the tiny desk.

The seats on this campus were all made of cheap plastic that had bus cushions on the butt of the seat, and little desks that you could flip to the right to escape. He liked to think of it like he was buckling himself into a rollercoaster each time.

“Did you do the homework?” He blurts, trying to act cool as you stare at him.

“We had homework?” You ask, eyes snapping to the daily checklist before turning back to him. “Are you sure?”

“No, that’s why I was asking you.” He blushes, pushing some hair back behind his ear. “Because I didn’t remember if we had an assignment or not.”

“Well normally you can see when we do because our professor writes it down.” You whisper, using your pencil to point at the board the assignments usually are. You were leaning in like you were telling him a secret and Eddie couldn’t help but bask in your scent for a moment.

“Right….. I knew that.” He blushes, leaning in himself. “But if we are being totally honest here I might need some help with-”

“Alright settle down students! Let’s begin!” The professor calls and Eddie tries not to kick himself as he draws back to pay attention. So so close.

College life sucked.

You had talked yourself into going to college after the horrific events you survived, seeing it as a chance to make yourself a new person. Leave the bloody history behind and live your life.

It wasn’t everyday people got a second chance at life after all.

It had taken you months to convince your parents to let you go, and it had been a rough time to say goodbye to your close knit group of friends or as your hometown liked to call them ‘The survivors’. Tear stained goodbyes and tons of promises to stay in touch before you left and at the time you had thought it was for the best, but now that you were here you realized what a mistake you had made.

You had always thought that being away from the place where it happened might help you heal, but it only seemed to make it worse.

The winter cold made your wounds ache, which made it hard to move. You couldn’t seem to make a friend to save your life and whenever you get close you can never get over the fact that they might stab you just as he had. The nightmares grew worse since you didn’t know this place well and you didn’t really have a security set up which meant your roommate hated you and often whispered about you with other girls living in your dorm hall.

But the worst part was you saw them everywhere.

You saw Maya sitting with the cheerleaders at lunch, giggling and being the life of the party, no longer dead. You saw Dylan drumming on a desk rather than paying attention, and when he turned back to smile at you he didn’t have his throat slit.

You saw all your friends, or what could have been your friends, making themselves known in the world and each time you just felt like a huge imposter. You were wasting your life, it should have been you.

But the worst was when you saw them. Standing outside your window in the masks, watching from the doorway of your classes or trailing behind you at night.

You saw them everywhere, you saw flashes of that final fight every time you close your eyes. An ironic feat considering the news articles always read how lucky you were to ‘escape with your life’.

But there was no escaping them. You were trapped in an endless cycle of fear. You could trust no one and hurt no one.

That’s what made the chocolate eyed boy next to you so confusing. He had been seated next to you since the beginning of the year and you often caught him staring as if he was trying to think of things to say, and whereas you tensed around most people you never did with him.

Maybe that’s because you could feel the nervousness coming off him every time.

You were actually shocked that he spoke to you this morning, and you were even more shocked to find that his voice was a raw sort of calm that drew you in, which made you ashamed to admit you were a little upset that your professor interrupted because you were desperate to hear him talk forever.

But that spell broke as you watched the board up front, taking the next 40 minutes to regain your composure and think of all the things that could go wrong. He could know who you are and be an obsessed freak, wouldn’t be the first time. He could be a copycat, he could stab you. He could be worse and actually succeed this time.

What are the chances? You tried to remind yourself, taking a deep breath in only to stop when you see Stu standing in the doorway with his shirt covered in blood, smiling from ear to ear. You cough loudly, choking on your own hair as tears spring from your eyes, drawing attention from everyone in the class as the boy next to you reaches to hand you his water bottle.

You take it, chugging quickly as the soft bell goes off, setting the bottle back down with a quick thanks and bolting from your seat. You hear him yell out a ‘wait’ before he rushes to stand, hitting the desk harshly since he hadn’t put it up and cursing at the pain.

You use this as a chance to escape, dashing out the doors and barely turning back to see if Stu would follow.

He’s not real.

But he could be, and he could come back and he could-

“Wait wait wait, Jesus you are fast.” The stranger calls, panting as he catches up, a ringed hand flying to his right side as if he were in pain while staring at you. “You okay? Had a bit of a coughing attack in there.”

“Yeah, I just choked on air.” You half lied, not making eye contact. “Thanks for the bottle by the way…”

“Eddie. Well Edward but everyone calls me Eddie. Munson. Eddie Munson.” He blushes, holding out the hand that wasn’t holding his side.

“I’m-”

“Y/n. I know.” He smiles and you draw your hand back quickly, panic clawing at you as the fall wind hits your spine. Of course he knows, everyone knows. They are laughing at you.

“You know?”

“Yeah. You introduced yourself on the first day of class? You told everyone your favorite book was Frankenstein?” He chuckles, pink singing at his ears and cheeks as you nod. Jesus you paranoid freak, he’s just trying to be nice.

“Right. Yeah.” You smile, fixing your bag and moving to walk away before he walks with you slowly.

“I was actually going to ask for your help.”

“With?”

“Homework. Or well, just classwork in general. You see I am more of a fantasy kinda guy. Elves and goblins and dwarves but this whole classic literature is kicking my ass. And you seem to devour it like no other so I was hoping maybe you could help out.”

“Like do your homework?”

“No!” He laughs, moving to scratch the back of his neck. You notice then that his hand is still on his side, and when he catches you looking he snaps it back down and fixes the leather jacket to cover himself even with the shirt. “Maybe just tutoring sessions? I’ll get dinner or something.”

“Oh…” You think back to all the things you could say to get out of it, maybe that you just didn’t want to but then you see Maya walking by with a laugh and remember why you were here in the first place.

A second chance at life, right?

“I… okay.” You agree, something in your stomach easing at his smile.

You both agree to meet up Sunday night at a pizza place right off campus, which gives Saturday free of any and all obligation. With no classes and waiting to do homework tomorrow you find yourself with a free day, so you use it to call home.

Not your parents since you just know they will pick up on the slightest hint of sadness in your tone and demand you come home. Instead you call Randy, one of the other survivors from that night, and eagerly listen to all his news in bed.

He catches you up on everything back home, from the gym being redecorated to the radio station he works at, but it was only a matter of time before you both had to talk about it.

“They knocked the house down, there were too many break-ins lately.” He explains and you hear a slight shuffle on the other side, knowing him that meant he was pacing. “Nothing gets people hornier than death.”

“Figures.” You try to laugh, your throat tight as tears spring to your eyes.

“Actually Y/n, I am glad I got ahold of you. I wanted you to hear it from one of us rather than the world…” He starts and you take a deep breath as you try to control your panic.

“What’s up?”

“Kelvin…. He uhm, he sold the story.” Your heart lurches in your chest at the words, the tears falling freely now.

“He what?”

“A movie company reached out, bought the rights to the story-”

“But we all agreed we wouldn’t!” You snap.

“He said they offered him a lot-”

“I won’t sign off, they can’t use-”

“They won’t use your name. Trust me I’ve already tried on my end.” Randy sighs. “It’s being released soon, called ‘Slashed’ and-”

The second he says the name you recognize it. You had seen a poster for it on a walk through campus but hadn’t actually stopped to look at it. Oh my god.

“Randy, I have to go.” You rush out, a sob slipping past your lips as you hang up the phone right as your roommate comes back, glaring and rolling her eyes at the scene before her. You don’t hear what she mumbles under her breath, too lost in your own world.

“Yes Dustin, I heard you.” Eddie sighs, searching his mess of a dorm room for his leather jacket as Dustin lectures him over the phone.

“My flight lands in two weeks at 3, do you hear me Munson? You better have the couch clean enough for me to sleep on-”

“Dustin, dude, you need to have more trust. The room is all set up for your arrival.” Lie. “And I have so many fun things planned for you when you get out here.” Double lie.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” No. “And we’ll go see that movie you have been prattling on about-”

“Slashed is going to be so epic. Think Halloween but better Eddie-”

“Nothing is better than Halloweeen.” Eddie snaps, eyes finally landing on the leather jacket where he actually hung it up and snagging it, throwing it on and giving himself one last look in the mirror before he rushes a goodbye to his friend.”I’m running late and have togobye!”

Before he knows it he is on his way to meet you, books in hand as he walks across the street and towards the pizza place that sits right off campus. When he gets there he finds you already seated in a booth, your own books already open in front of you and he tries his best to remain cool when he walks up.

“Hey, how was your day off yesterday?” He asks, sliding into the seat across from you with an easy smile.

“Busy.” You smile, and he tries not to notice the way it doesn’t meet your eyes. “You?”

“Promised myself I would clean my room…..didn’t.” He jokes, and that finally cracks an actual smile out of you which makes his heart skip a beat. “Now I am ready to read shakespine and shove my face with pizza.”

“Speare.”

“Huh? Is that a type of pizza?”

“No. You said shakespine, it’s shakespeare.” You laugh and his eyes widen.

“I think I know why I failed the last assignment then.” How is he supposed to fight off that feeling of pride when you let out a loud laugh?

You had only expected to spend an hour with Eddie, but ended up spending four and closing the place down, to which he kindly offered to walk you back to your dorm. You said yes, partly because it was way too dark outside and partly because you wanted to spend just a little longer with him. More than you wanted to admit.

So you walked side by side, listening to him tell you about the funniest thing that had ever happened to his band ‘Corroded Coffin’ in detail before the conversation came to an easy lull. “Do you miss them?”

He looks over at you with a curious expression, waiting for you to explain. “Since you are here now, do you miss all your friends and family?”

“Well family wise it’s just my uncle Wayne and I, and I miss him greatly. I went from spending every day seeing him and never realized just how much I relied on him. He raised me and now I’m living in a world where I can’t dash to him with every bloody nose or black eye. And I just miss him a lot. My friends? I find that I miss some more than others. I miss my band, I grew up with them and they have known me since middle school, playing guitar doesn’t feel the same without them. But the Vecna crew? Jesus, I miss them all the time. Just thinking about them makes me feel like I’m lonely and ready to go back home.”

You knew that feeling all too well.

You spot the entrance to your building, taking the lead in walking up the steps until you get to the door, turning to smile at him softly. He is looking at you with the softest look you had ever seen, and you begin to get butterflies in your stomach.

“How about you?”

“My family and friends are….. Complicated.” You blush, the sound of Maya’s scream tearing through your mind.

“How so?”

“I wanted to escape them, but they are the only ones that know me.” You whisper and he nods in understanding, something flashing in the brown of his eyes. Like a scarred memory. He knows he knows he knows.

“I…. well I can’t say I know you as well as them, but I can say even knowing a quarter of you is a gift. And I would love to get to know more.” He says lowly, leaning in slightly and you find yourself leaning up yourself before the groan of the metal door behind you sounds out.

“Look who's back.” Someone snickers and you take a quick step back from Eddie who shoots you a curious look, only for you to wish him goodnight and rush inside the building as the two girls leave.

Your cheeks are pumping from your heartbeat, all the blood rushing to your face as you make a quick dash to your room.

This cannot happen. You can’t be so stupid again.

The next morning Eddie doesn't grumble to himself, and he doesn’t complain about having to wake up so early. Today he walks with a pep in his step as he makes his way to class, eager to see you.

As per usual he arrives first, sending a rock signal to Paul as he takes his seat, flipping the desk down and pulling out his writing tablet as his side begins stinging in pain. Taking a hand and rubbing at his side slowly to help ease the soreness of the scars when he feels you come near, eyes already planted on him rubbing his side in pain.

“Morning.” He greets, bringing his hand back down and giving you a smile.

“Good morning.” You smile back, taking a seat, your eyes casting to the door for a moment before your face blanches out quickly and you turn to him. “I had a lot of fun last night.”

“Me too, we should do it again sometime. Not to mention it will really help my grades.” He teases, smiling at you like a conspirator.

“We could always study for the test tonight?” You offer and Eddie feels like his body is on fire.

“I would love that.”

Dinners and study dates become a nightly thing with Eddie, and you find that you love them. You also find that each night he walks you home you are absolutely desperate for him to kiss you, and you keep getting closer and closer.

Like tonight, your shoulders had been bumping each other the entire time, laughing gently as you recalled the jokes you made at dinner, your pinky grazing his own as he stared at you before you made it to your building.

“Once again this is goodnight.” You blush, reaching a hand out to fix his leather jacket. “Same thing tomorrow?”

“Sadly not, I have plans with my friend Dustin.”

“Right, you guys were going to go watch a movie together on his first night back.” You smile, before your mind is brought back to the posters of the screaming face all over town. “Do you know what movie you’re seeing?”

“Sealand or something?” Eddie shrugs, eyes hooded a bit as he steps closer. “You okay?”

“Me? Of course.” You smile, pressing your nose against his as you lean up to trace your lips against his own. He hesitates for a moment before leaning and taking your lips on his own, his hands flying to your hips softly as he kisses you deeply. Butterflies erupt in your stomach and you make the mistake of opening your eyes, only to find Billy standing behind Eddie’s shoulder with a smile.

Drawing back with a sharp gasp that has Eddie staring wide eyed. “You okay?”

“Yes!” You rush out, kissing his cheek before moving to rush inside.

“What?” Billy laughs from behind you, following you into the building. “You didn’t forget about me did you? You didn’t wanna tell your boyfriend about me?”

“Go away.” You whisper.

“Didn’t want to admit how you killed me?”He laughs bitterly as you slam your bedroom door. Hesnotrealhesnotreal. He. Is. Not. Real.

Dustin is a big ball of excitement as Eddie leads him through the movie theater, watching people come out with shocked and excited faces.

“This movie has to be good.” Dustin rushes out. “Did you know it’s inspired by a true story?”

“What are we watching again?”

“Slashed.” Dustin smiles. “And it’s going to be so awesome.”

(Part 2 soon)

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negasonicimagines · 3 months ago

Text

Allergies

SYNOPSIS: After you and Ellie take down a plant monster, you quickly find out why it was being so aggressive in the first place. OR An overdue sex pollen fic.

Warnings/Notes: Smut, Sex Pollen, Minor Breeding Kink, Telepathic Reader, Oral, Strap-On (R!Receiving Both) / This is actually pretty old. It didn't feel finished, so I held onto it for a while. After polishing it a little I think it's as done as it's gonna get.

You and Negasonic are both exhausted after that last mission.

“I have no idea why that creature was so hostile, or what it was even doing in the city. Those things usually stick to their dens in the forests, especially around this time of year,” she comments. For someone who tries so hard to look like a delinquent, she actually paid a lot of attention when she was in school, enough to have an internship at Stark Industries and a few scholarships under her belt.

Graduated students are still permitted to live at Xavier’s, and they even get upgraded rooms; however, they still have to share. At least you two don’t have to deal with immature freshmen in the communal showers anymore. That’s enough to keep you as roommates, despite your differences.

“I’m just glad it’s over with,” you say, punctuating your sentence with a sneeze. You haven’t stopped doing that since the end of the fight, when the plant-like beast was eventually herded back to its den with some minor injuries. Your mind control wasn’t as useful as anticipated, but due to the need for physical touch to even try, you got plenty of the pollen in your system, more so than your teammates, though they were also given a decent dusting. “We should shower.”

“You first,” Ellie replies. You head to the restroom.

Once the water starts running, you think about her. You two have lived together for about half a year now, and you still have no idea how she feels about you.

You two will watch a few episodes of a TV show you both like, share the same opinions of the relationships and plot points, and it really seems like you could be friends, but then later, sometimes within hours, she’s right back to her snarky remarks and cold-shouldering, like it never happened. You’ll accompany each other to the gym, or dinner, and get along just fine, even if it’s just scrolling through your phones and showing each other Tiktoks and other memes. But then, again, coldness. You don’t know what you’ve done wrong, and you’re one more of her little comments away from just grabbing her and learning everything there is to know about her maze of a mind.

No, not really. That would be wrong, violating. You’re just frustrated, you know that. You want to be her friend, maybe even more than her friend, but she just won’t let you in!

You finish up your shower, and return to your room, cozying up on your bed. Ellie’s already pulled up Dexter on the TV so that you can resume where you left off in your rewatch in anticipation for the new season.

Her shower is speedier than yours. Her hair is so cute, even when it’s wet. Maybe you should ask her what hairdresser she goes to.

She glances at you, seeing that you’re comfortable before pressing play.

“Y’know, Lila reminds me of Mandy Milkovich,” you comment.

Ellie looks at you like you’ve just announced your plans to glitterbomb Wolverine.

“What? I thought I was allowed to talk if we’ve both seen the episode or movie before,” you say.

“No, no, you are, but that’s actually… That’s an interesting connection to make,” Ellie explains. “You’re right.”

“Thanks?”

“Yeah.”

You watch the rest of the episode in a silence that’s actually kind of odd for you two. As the silence grows, so does a weird tension, each of you glancing at each other and trying not to get caught, but ultimately failing. Your skin starts to itch, but even as you scratch, it doesn’t go away. You even try some lotion from your nightstand, and that makes the itching worse. You’d tear off your clothes if Ellie wasn’t there. A strange thought trickles into your mind, urging you to do it anyways, and maybe even take hers off, too. You have an idea of what she looks like under her clothes, you had gym together in high school. Perverse thoughts continue to plague you, starting off as intrusive before suddenly they feel… Natural.

She doesn’t allow the next episode to autoplay.

“Do you feel… Weird?” she asks. You nod. “Me too.”

“Cool. Uh, what could be causing this?” you wonder, sitting up and turning to look at her.

“No idea, or… Oh, fuck.”

“Oh, fuck?” you repeat, wondering why she would say such a thing.

“When that creature is in heat, all other senses and instincts are dulled. It wandered off and was hostile due to unfamiliar surroundings and the threat we posed. As a defense mechanism, it covered us in-”

“No,” you realize. “That’s real?! That’s a real thing?!”

“Yeah,” she sighs. “It’s only gonna get worse from here.”

“The effects are documented?! Why didn’t they warn us?!”

“That specific species hasn’t been studied enough. We didn’t know if they reproduced more like plants, or like animals… Until now, I guess,” Ellie explains. “Well, at least we weren’t too exposed to it. Too much of it and you don’t really have a choice but to do certain things, or-”

“Speak for yourself, my mind control abilities require skin-to-skin! What’s gonna happen to me?” you ask, frightened.

“Well, unless you, y’know, you’re gonna be in a lot of pain. I don’t know for how long, again, this species isn’t well-studied due to its reclusive nature, but-” She cuts herself off with a sigh. ”I’m not the best person to talk to about this.”

“Considering you know so much about it, why wouldn’t you be the best person to talk to?”

“Because the more I talk about the effects, the more I want to prevent you from suffering from them,” she admits, finally meeting your gaze, and you could drown in the depth of her eyes, black oceans that are burning hot even when they aren’t glowing orange.

“You just said you weren’t exposed to it very much, so why would you…?”

“You really don’t know?” she asks, sounding almost angry.

“Know what?”

“And everyone was telling me I was being so obvious,” she scoffs.

“What?!” you ask again, exasperated already by her vagueness.

“I’m into you, for fuck’s sake!” she confesses.

“Is that why you’re so unpredictable?!” You’re shocked. Of all the possible reasons for her hot-and-cold act, you hadn’t considered this. You sigh. “Well, okay. If it gets too bad, help me out. I’m consenting now before my condition gets worse and you won’t be able to tell if I’m telling the truth or not.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Y/N, I can’t just hook up with you and pretend like nothing happened! I’m not like that,” she says.

“Who said we had to pretend like it didn’t happen? I’m interested in you, too. We get this over with and then we start dating or whatever you want to do. You’ll probably change your mind once you’ve been with me, though.”

“Why would you say that?” Ellie asks. She sounds… Defensive.

“It’s prolonged skin-to-skin contact. No one’s ever stayed after… That. They can’t even look at me. I know their most vulnerable secrets, and they know mine. And that’s with me trying to prevent absorbing anything. Once I… We… Y’know, that gets pretty hard to not do, and I get the feeling it’s gonna be even harder if my mind is only focused on one thing.”

“You warned them first?” she wonders. You nod. “Then it’s their own damn fault, not yours. I’m fine with that, gets everything out in the open before we get in too deep. Well, before you do. I- All I think about is you, honestly. I know we don’t do a whole lot together, but living with you, watching our favorite shows, all that… I love it. I never want it to end. I wish I wasn’t too cowardly to show it.”

“You’re showing it now,” you tell her, surprised at her honesty but wanting to encourage it.

“I guess I am,” she admits, soothed by your words. “Can I kiss you?”

You nod, though you’re a bit nervous.

Ellie ventures from her bed to yours, taking your face in her hands. She looks as nervous as you feel, but she goes for it. You kiss back, of course.

When you part, she smiles.

“You really like me, too?”

“I told you,” you reply.

“I guess I just wasn’t expecting…” She sighs and smiles again. “That was nice.”

“Wanna do it again?” you offer with a cheeky grin. She nods, and the two of you kiss again, and again, and again, until you’re under her, thighs interlocked as you both needily roll your hips. Her hands slide up your shirt, but before she gets to your chest, she asks:

“Can I?”

“Of course,” you reply, and she gets back to work, resuming the kiss while massaging your breasts and using her thumbs to rub your nipples through your bra. Your thighs squeeze around the one of hers between them, and you can feel her satisfaction.

Ellie pulls away. Oh no, don’t do that.

“This is really okay, right?”

“Can’t you tell?” you ask. Your hands were already cupping her cheeks, but you press into them a little harder, giggling at her smushed face.

“Oh, that’s what that is… I just thought it felt really good to be, y’know…” Riding your thigh.

We’re touching. I can sense what you’re thinking, to an extent. Surface level stuff, can’t go deeper without actually trying, you tell her without opening your mouth. And because I’m not guarding myself all the way, you’re able to feel, y’know… Some of what I’m feeling.

“So cool…” she murmurs, and you catch a hint of excitement at the thought of…

You blush, a sheepish smile on your face.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. Oh, wow, okay, I mean, I know you warned me, but- Wait, not like that, I want this still, just… I gotta be more careful.”

“Why?” you ask reflexively, but you know. She thinks it before she says it:

“I don’t want you to feel pressured,” like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. She puts her hands against yours, smiling again when she feels just how much more attractive she made herself to you by saying that and genuinely meaning it. You pull your hands away to take off your shirt, helping her with hers. “Wow.”

“I- I can put my shirt back on.”

She puts her hands on your hips and oh, okay. It was a good “wow.”

“This is pretty convenient,” she murmurs. “People don’t like this?”

“Just wait ‘til we climax, okay? You’ll change your mind.”

I don’t think I will, Ellie thinks. Nothing about her could change my mind at this point.

You gasp at that.

“I, uh, I’m sorry,” she murmurs, embarrassed.

You shake your head, the need between your thighs only growing with time.

Ellie kisses you again, reaching around you for the clasp of your bra as it gets deeper. She presses her hand against the clasp, and you know what she’s asking.

Yes, please.

Great manners, she thinks, and you can feel the satisfaction in it.

Your lips part so that she can take your bra the rest of the way off, and she next kisses your neck, hot and heavy and wet kisses trailing down to your chest.

She feels pleasure blossom from every kiss and can’t help but smirk before she finally kisses one of your nipples, sucking on it and flicking her tongue and-

“Oh, fuck, Ellie, I- Ha, you- thank you, oh,” you whimper, squirming underneath her.

Sensitive, huh? I guess that’s to be expected, with the pollen and all. I wonder if she’d mind me writing a research article about this. Mm, so soft.

“You can do whatever you want as long as you keep doing that,” you tell her.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Ellie pulls away to say, and you whine. “Oh, right, just- Thoughts, y’know, that’s gotta be distracting.”

“You’re not my mindless sex slave,” you insist.

Would be if you asked, she flirts.

You can’t help but giggle at that, planting a kiss on her forehead.

She resumes her work, switching to your other breast while still stimulating the one she was before with her fingers. You grind yourself against her thigh.

Fuck, that’s so hot. I didn’t even know I was capable of being this happy, or horny, for that matter. Oh, she’s perfect. I knew she would be.

“Well, that’s a kink I didn’t know I had,” you breathe.

“What?”

“Praise kink.”

“Oh,” Ellie chuckles. “What, didn’t the others… think stuff…like… that?” Ellie’s question gets weaker as she feels… Feels that they didn’t. It was never as loving, it was just shallow, physical thoughts. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. We’re together now.”

“We are,” Ellie agrees. “It sucks that you got sick, but… I’m glad this is working out for the best.”

For now, that scared little part of you speaks up.

Ellie’s kisses trail down, but she stops once she feels a different concern.

“I don’t care if you’re not totally bare down there; do I look like the kind of girl who is?”

“Fair enough,” you whisper, anxiety threatening to overwhelm you. She rests her head against your stomach, hugging you.

We don’t have to do this. We don’t. I can try and get you sedatives, or I can sleep over at Yukio’s or Wade’s and let you deal with this on your own. But I want to, if you want to. We can still be together either way, or if you don’t want to be together, we can just try and forget about this. It’s really up to you.

“I want to,” you reply. “I just- I really like you, and I don’t want you to stop liking me because of this.”

“Okay. I feel pretty confident that I’m gonna feel the same way about you that I did before, it’s already getting stronger. I like knowing what’s going on in your head. I like that you know what’s going on in mine. Makes the whole communication thing a million times easier, which is good, ‘cause I kinda suck at it most of the time.”

“Okay.”

I’m literally about to burst, please, oh, please, can we get back to it?

Ellie can’t help but grin.

“Yeah, yeah, of course.”

She pulls your bottoms and underwear down in one clunky motion, you’re not really sure if your shimmying is helping or not. She props your legs open and you can’t help but cover your face, especially as her filthy and lovestruck thoughts seep into your skin. You’re blushing so hard right now, you can feel it.

“You’re- You know what I think,” Ellie murmurs. “Do you still want…?”

You nod fervently, and she chuckles. She inches down and gives a few experimental licks and kisses, humming with delight as you shudder and whimper. She finds her niche flicking her tongue against your clit at a rapid pace.

She tastes amazing, fuck. I just need to make her feel good, she thinks. You’re done for.

You shake underneath her, she’s like a force of nature. There’s no fighting, there’s not even a way to help. You just lay there and take it, tangling your hands in the sheets. She moves them to her hair, and you twist your fingers in it, squeezing more than you ever actually pull it. You’d hate to accidentally hurt her.

“F-Fuck, Ellie, I…” She’s doing the absolute most, or so you thought. She slides a couple fingers inside and curls them. You’re damn near sobbing, you’re so sensitive already and then she just… You pitifully whimper and whine as you get closer and closer. “I- I-”

She hums with satisfaction, continuing to flick and swirl her tongue furiously until you finish. And now, you’ll see how she takes it.

“Whoa,” she breathes after working you through your orgasm. “That was…” She smiles.

“What?” you blurt. She’s still smiling. She’s smiling?! “What did you see?”

“I mean, first of all, you weren’t kidding when you said wait ‘til we climax. Second of all… It was you. It was like your mind just completely opened up and sucked me in. I don’t see how anyone wouldn’t love that. To see all of it, to know you so much better. Maybe they were just intimidated.”

“Maybe don’t include that part in your paper.”

She grabs your hand, pressing it against her cheek.

“Your turn. It’s okay. Whatever you want to know or see, it’s yours. It’s only fair.”

You accept her offer. She has a loving family but constantly feels overshadowed by her older sister. Her first pet was a middle-aged corn snake – her cousin moved away for college when she was ten and entrusted her with its care. It died on her fifteenth birthday and while its lifespan was normal, maybe even exceptionally long, she’s never really had a good birthday since.

Her first crush was a girl with red hair and freckles for days. Her first love was Yukio, though she regrets never really showing it the way she should’ve when they dated. She doesn’t want to make the same mistakes with you.

You find her mental list of your favorite things, playing through the memories of her hearing you say they were your favorite or of her simply observing the choices you make. You start taking note of her own favorite things that you haven’t discovered yet. You dig through her kinks and fantasies a little, not surprised at what you find.

You continue to gently explore her mind, creeping down dark hallways of fear and depression and anger; traipsing through meadows of her most pleasant memories, a surprising amount of them with you.

You slip back out, and she smiles nervously.

“So…” she starts, but doesn’t know how to continue.

“So,” you reply, smiling with her. “That was nice. A lot more peaceful than I was expecting, not gonna lie.”

Ellie chuckles at that, and you get off the bed, legs wobbly but still functional enough for you to open the closet and grab the drawstring bag tucked in the back.

You place it on the bed.

“Take your pick, it’s all good,” you tell her, but she’s still stunned at the fact that you knew where it was. “Doesn’t freak you out too much, does it?”

“I’m just surprised you went there.”

“Didn’t you?” you ask.

“Yeah, but- But you’re- I guess what I’m really saying is that I’m still surprised you’re attracted to me, I didn’t think I’d be your type.”

“You didn’t?”

“Well, I guess- I mean, those people you dated, I never saw them, so I didn’t have anyone to really compare myself to in terms of what you might like.”

“I like you.”

“I like you, too,” she replies with a chuckle. “Are you still-”

“Yes, yes, dear god, yes,” you quickly reply. You weren’t gonna say anything as you’re glad to be having this talk, but the pain, the hunger has slowly built back up. “How long do you think this is gonna last?”

Ellie fishes through her bag, pulling out the one you were hoping for and spraying it down with a specialized cleaner before carefully wiping it off with a tissue. She attaches it to a harness before shucking her jeans and putting on the harness with surprising grace and speed.

“I don’t know, but I’m here. As long as you want me.”

You kiss her, tangling your hands in her hair. Her hands rest on your thighs, asking permission without opening her mouth. You part from the kiss to nod before resuming. She slides two fingers in, pumping them and reveling in the way you twitch and squirm with sensitivity. She pulls them out; you pout. She can’t hold back a smirk as she tastes you on her fingers, using her other hand to carefully line herself up with your entrance.

Ellie eases in, torturously slow. You wrap your legs around her and plunge the toy the rest of the way in.

“Needy, are we?”

“You already know that,” you pitifully whimper, and her cocky expression fades into one of sympathy.

“Would it be better if you got on top? So you can set the pace?”

“Maybe later, if you get tired.” For now, I just want you to pound me until I can’t take it anymore and then some.

A chill of excitement rolls down Ellie’s spine.

Is that so?

You nod, rocking your hips. She snatches them, and you still. She feels the way your stomach does a flip like you’re at the top of a rollercoaster; that brief thrilling moment just before racing down the track.

She hopes she makes you scream, too.

“Can’t do that if you don’t fucking move,” you remark, getting even more impatient. Under normal circumstances, that would earn you bondage and maybe even a smack somewhere, but Ellie knows you literally need her to fuck you as the effects of the pollen grow stronger. You may have made the remark about her not being a mindless sex slave, but she wouldn’t be surprised if you were by the end of this.

Gladly.

That makes her blush, before she finally gets to work. She warms up with a steady pace, but the thrusts quickly become savage, almost clumsy with how fast and hard she’s going. Every time she hits that spot, you gasp or moan or whine or whimper, nails digging into her shoulders, her back, whatever you can get your hands on as you cling for dear life.

You get close once more, fairly quickly, but you need a little more. What you don’t need are spoken words, though. Ellie reaches for her bag and fishes out a wand, wetting the head of it with her mouth before handing it to you. The feeling of desperate gratitude flows from you to her through every inch of touching skin, and she grins, smooching your forehead.

The hum of the vibrator is simply white noise compared to the symphony of sounds the two of you are making. Ellie already enjoys topping damn near enough to finish untouched, but feeling echoes of your pleasure only intensifies it.

You cover your mouth as your eyes tear up and clench shut, but she tears the hand off, pinning it to the bed.

“It’s embarrassing,” you whine.

“What is? That you’re enjoying this?”

You pant, unable to get the words out of your mouth, but she knows what you’re saying. She returns her hand to your hip, letting yours free.

No, not that, just… I’m being so fucking loud and shrill and my face looks so-

You know I don’t think that, she cuts off your negative thoughts. You’ll have to work on that together in the future. If you don’t believe her thoughts, maybe she’ll have to show you. Wouldn’t that be something? You reverse cowgirl in front of a mirror with her hand on your throat and another on your hip while she rocks up into you? You’d blush so much, it’d be so cute. And you wouldn’t be able to look away, she’d grab you by your cheeks and show you just how fucking sexy you are when you-

The grip of your legs tightens around her, forcing her as deep as she can go while you unravel on that synthetic extension of her, sobbing with sensitivity. You’ve lost control again and Ellie’s right there with you, gasping and swearing and surely leaving bruises on your hips with how tightly she’s gripping them.

“Oh, please don’t stop,” you beg.

“Gotta loosen your legs a little, babe,” she reminds you, and you immediately do, a stunned expression on your face that confuses her.

“You called me babe,” you coo.

“I’m literally inside you,” she replies with a scoff, cheeks heating up even more at how ridiculously adorable you are. “One more round like that and then you’re gonna have to ride me.”

“Fine by me.”

Ellie resumes her motions from before, but this time you’re not as interactive, you can barely hold the vibrator in place, let alone do anything else. She’s fucking the life out of you and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

She grins at that thought, taking a pause to kiss you again.

Perfect, oh, so perfect. And all mine.

She returns to her merciless pace, now grabbing your hips and dragging them down to meet her motions sooner. Your whole body ripples, chest bouncing up and down as she slams inside you, your moans punctuating every thrust.

“C- C-” you pant, “Cl- Clo…”

Ellie shushes you comfortingly, not wanting you to waste your energy.

“I- Ha, I, Oh… Oh, please, Ellie, I-” your breath catches in your throat.

“I know, baby, I know. It’s okay,” she reassures you.

You keep panting, taking all she has to offer as loving and lustful thoughts flow back and forth between you. You hit that perfect peak with a sob of pleasure, and Ellie becomes weaker as she tries to work you both through it. Oh, that won’t do.

Words aren’t necessary. She pulls out, and the emptiness is soul-crushing. The issue is quickly resolved by readjusting your positions as planned, fuck, it feels so much bigger like this.

She caresses your thighs, her thoughts jumbled to the point where they’re not even words anymore, just feelings of desire and satisfaction and gratitude and admiration and…

Love.

Love, all-encompassing, stronger than anything you’ve ever experienced.

“Wow,” you sigh.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Ellie says softly.

“I hate to rush things, this is- It’s important, y’know? Pretty clear where we stand after this, and- And I-”

“We can definitely have a do-over, if you want… But so far, we’re enjoying ourselves, and isn’t that what matters?”

“Yeah,” you whimper. “Let me just-“

“I’ve got it,” she says, taking the still-moving wand from your hand, which is trembling just as much. “Just take what you need, babe.”

She holds it in place for you as you rock your hips, finding that perfect angle and riding the waves. Somewhere in the haze you find her other hand and squeeze it as tightly as you’re clenching your eyes shut.

You continue that way; words don’t need to be exchanged, just uncontrollable moans and thoughts that are sweet, dirty, or both as orgasm after orgasm washes over you. You’re drowning.

You’re exhausted and overstimulated, but fuck, you need it. You need it so bad.

Suddenly, though, Ellie snatches your hips, forcing you to still.

“Y/N. Y/N, breathe.”

“What?” you respond, panting. Oh, that’s right. That’s your name. You’d almost forgotten.

“Lay down,” she instructs you.

“But- But I…”

“You’re on the verge of passing out. Lay down, and breathe.”

“I need…”

“Lay on your side. I’ll take it from here, at least for a little while,” she insists. “I’ll stay inside you so we can sleep.”

You force yourself up and off of the strap, collapsing onto the bed in a curled-up ball of pain and sobs and need. There’s not enough words to describe how it feels to be so empty, the pain is like your heart’s been put in a blender both literally and metaphorically.

Ellie spoons you, reentering you as soon as she can get properly realigned.

You sigh in relief.

“Is that what you need the most, babe? For me to be inside you?”

“Yeah,” you pitifully reply.

“Then we’ll stay like this and try to get some rest.” She caresses the curve of your waist and it’s like you’re being gently electrocuted; tingling chills trickle out from every millimeter of touching skin. You shiver, and Ellie manages to get a blanket over the two of you, mostly using her feet. Normally, you’d get a good chuckle out of such antics. You’re too blissed out for it to even register, though. You were in a cold sweat before, and now you’re in a warm embrace with a blanket that feels softer than ever against your bare skin.

She’s still shaking. She needs water, but I can’t exactly leave. But who could come here? Maybe Yukio, but that’d be awkward, even if we’re friends now. Wade? Oh, fuck no.

“I’ll be alright,” you mumble.

“You almost fainted. You need something in you.”

“I already have something in me,” you reply, the most adorable mix of sleepy and smug as you teasingly rock your hips. Ellie scoffs.

“Fine. But as soon as this wears off-”

“I know,” you hum. “Let’s just sleep now. You’re- You’re a very good big spoon.”

“Thanks. Was there anything you didn’t like, aside from the obvious?”

“Not that I can think of.”

“Anything you liked in particular?”

“Your thoughts were very sweet. And I like that you talked to me, y’know, communicated a lot and made sure I was okay.”

“That’s kind of the bare minimum.”

“I guess. What about you? Likes and dislikes?”

“Fuck, you’re… You’re perfect. That’s all I can really say.”

And with that, you two drift off.

You awaken to a pain that sweeps over your entire body, like thick needles piercing every pore straight down to the bone. You scream, but it’s not just physical torment.

She’s abandoned you. She doesn’t want you anymore; doesn’t wanna breed you, doesn’t wanna make you hers, doesn’t- You sob in pain, clawing at your burning, aching, itching skin as you writhe.

The door opens. New mate? Please let it be a new mate. You need to be filled. Need it.

“Shit, Y/N, I thought since you were asleep…” Ellie trails off, closing the door.

“It hurts, it hurts!” you wail, not really processing what she’s saying. You just need help.

“I’m sorry,” she says solemnly, finding the toy from before and cleaning it off, only bothering to take off her pants before putting the strap back on.

“Make it stop, please,” you beg.

“I’m trying,” she insists, but even as she lines herself up, you’re still sobbing inconsolably. She eases in but you’re still shaking, hot tears running down your face. “There we go. Can you drink this?”

She holds a reusable water bottle. You nod.

“Hurt so bad, thought you left me forever,” you whimper as she pushes the button to flip the straw up. She presses it against your trembling lips.

“I’d never,” she whispers. “Please drink.”

You finally take your first sip, and realize that your instincts regarding food and water must’ve been completely shut down until this moment. You take gulp after gulp until she pulls it away.

“You’re gonna make yourself sick,” she chides you, looking more concerned than ever.

“I- I-” you pant, but you’re not even sure what you’re trying to say. The pain is gone, but it lingers in the back of your mind, like a halo of misery hovering over your skin. She puts a hand on your shoulder, and you can’t help but project the feelings you’re feeling right now, a constant loop:

fuckmebreedmeownmebitemeclaimmeyoursyoursyoursneedyouneedyouneedyou

“I know,” she sighs. “I don’t… You’re too far gone right now. We can stay like this so you’re not in pain, but I don’t think we should do what we did yesterday. Your mind isn’t as clear as it was then.”

Not a worthy mate for her? Need it, need to be filled, maybe someone else will-

She thrusts, hard. It certainly gets your attention.

“Y/N, no. You’re- You’re worthy. You know I want you. Just not like this. Things were different yesterday, you were still… Lucid. This feels wrong. I don’t want you to regret anything we do together.”

You’re still teeming with feelings of perceived rejection, eyes blurry with tears.

“I’m your… Mate, right? That means I have to protect you, doesn’t it?”

You nod.

“Right now, I’m trying to protect you by not going any further than this. Reach out. Feel it.”

You obey, wrapping your hand around her arm. She’s right. Her intentions are pure. She does still care, it’s why she doesn’t want to do more.

“You look tired, still. I’m guessing you only woke up because of the pain. Let’s readjust so you can go back to sleep.”

Readjust? She’s not going to pull out again, is she? You couldn’t take that. You wrap your arms and legs around her tightly, keeping her in. She yelps in surprise before she sees your terrified expression and feels the waves of pure fear rushing out of you.

“Right. How about this? Let go. I won’t leave you empty again.” You loosen the grip of your legs and she holds the dildo in, pulling away. The suction cup resists, but eventually it’s forced out of the rubber ring on her harness. You nod, this is acceptable. You’d do anything to avoid the pain. “There we go.”

She smiles sadly, stroking your hair and the side of your face.

“You okay?” she asks. You nod again. “Can you talk?”

You open your mouth, but can’t seem to force even a simple yes from your vocal cords. Your throat doesn’t hurt, the blockage is purely mental. Everything you’re feeling right now, everything she’s feeling right now, it’s too much. You look at her woefully, shaking your head.

“That’s okay. Can you still communicate through touch?”

Your legs are still loosely looped around her. You can feel it all: her concern, her burning need to keep you safe, her fear that she’s doing the wrong thing, and, most importantly, her unwavering love for you.

You try to push some thoughts her way, but they’re still scrambled.

Safesafewarmsafeloveholdmesafelovewarmholdmesafe

“To an extent,” she says for you. “Got it.” She takes off the harness, pulling the covers over you both before pulling you into her arms. She was right, you’re exhausted.

You wish you could say something, thank her, tell her you love her. It’s just like when you were a kid, before you even knew what your abilities were. Every casual touch throughout the day was another tooth on the locked zipper your lips became. You were nonverbal more often than not, until you got here. You feel helpless.

“I didn’t know that,” she murmurs. “But don’t worry. I know the other stuff. You’re saying it just fine like this.”

You burrow into her embrace, still trembling.

“Just breathe. It’ll be okay.”

What if it never stops?

“It will. Just takes time. Oh, fuck, when’s the last time you used the restroom?”

She doesn’t wait for an answer, helping you make your way to it on jelly legs.

“Let me know when you’re done and I’ll help you back into bed.”

You grab her wrist.

Can’t pull it out myself, can’t do it, it’s gonna hurt too much.

“Right. I’ll pull it out, and I’ll be right here waiting when you’re done. On the count of three, okay? 1, 2…”

You can’t help but screech. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire, why wouldn’t you scream? It sounds louder than it feels in your throat, and that's when you realize you’re still holding onto her wrist. She’s screaming, too.

You rip your hand away and rush through the business you need to take care of as fast as you can, washing your hands and returning to her, though you collapse at her feet, shaking and sobbing.

She puts the toy back inside of you, but it’s not enough this time. You need to be bred. This alleviates the pain for the most part, but you’re filled with an indescribable tension and you know that any second, the burning ache will sweep its way over you again.

She helps you back into bed, but you still tremble. You’re entangled with her in more ways than one, and she sighs as she feels your fears, your need.

“I’ll move it for you, how about that?” she asks. You nod, and she reaches a hand down, sliding the toy up and down — never fully out, but just enough for you to feel it. That’s better. You sigh in relief, relaxing into her. “There we go. You’re gonna be just fine. Go back to sleep.”

I’m sorry I hurt you.

“It’s okay. It was an accident.” But you can feel a sickly sort of feeling inside of her.

I told you. I told you that it would ruin things. That it would repulse you. That I would.

“What are you talking about?”

I can feel it. Don’t try to lie to me, especially while you’re doing that.

Ellie watches the toy slide in and out of you at her hand, the way you quiver every time she bottoms out. It’s not just visual, she has a sixth sense, your sixth sense. Every little tremor sends a ripple of chills through her.

“You don’t repulse me. Your abilities don’t repulse me. I’m repulsed by myself. I shouldn’t have let it end up like this, I should’ve figured things out sooner. I’m not upset because I felt your pain in the way that you think I am.”

Things?

“The creature, your feelings, my feelings, what you’ve been through… What you’re going through now. I should’ve figured it all out before, it wouldn’t be like-”

Words are failing you again, but you do your best to project comfort to her. It’s really not so bad overall. Everything feels good, as long as she doesn’t stop. Most superhero couples don’t end up together in ideal ways. At least you two got to have mind-blowing sex.

Ellie snickers.

“Okay. If you’re sure. Now, sleep, alright? I’ve got you.”

And so you do.

You wake up in a hospital bed under a thin blanket, wrapped in Ellie’s fluffy black robe.

How’d you get here? You try to remember, but the last thing you do is being encircled by Ellie, and she was- Oh, goodness. You blush, remembering every filthy thing you said and did.

The blush is even deeper as the more romantic memories roll in. Maybe there were some complications with the pollen, were you sick? Oh, gross, you were probably gushing snot in your sleep and she rushed you here, worried you’d suffocate!

“You’re awake! How are you?” a friendly-looking man who’s probably several years older than you— but still has a somewhat youthful appearance —asks.

“Where’s Ellie?” you ask instead of answering. Does she regret it? Oh, she does, doesn’t she? You knew it.

He smiles knowingly.

“I finally convinced her to go take a shower, so, of course, you immediately woke up. She’ll be back soon.”

“Um, who are you?”

“I’m Peter, I’m one of Ellie’s coworkers. Technically her supervisor, but, eh…”

“Oh, Dr. Parker! I’ve heard of you. Good things. Uh, sorry, I’m sure Ellie would tell me if she was here, but… What happened?”

“Right! You weren’t waking up, and while Xavier’s has a pretty good medical center, there weren’t any biochemistry experts to consult… So, Ellie called me and I told her to bring you here. After a little bit of field research, we found that the creature whose pollen you inhaled quite a bit of hibernates directly after mating season. Do your sinuses hurt? We flushed them to see if that would help.”

You shake your head.

“Good, that’s good. Still… Hurting?”

Your blush returns, and you shake your head with a bit more enthusiasm. He laughs.

“Good! Ope!” He tilts his head, and you’re confused until you finally start to hear her footsteps, too. The door opens.

Ellie’s eyes widen at the sight of you conscious.

“You know what they say about watched pots never boiling. Text me if you two need anything, Ellie.”

And with that, Dr. Parker steps out.

“How are you? Do you feel okay?”

“Given that I’m not writhing in agony and I can talk again, I’d say I’m okay. How are you?”

She stammers, before clutching your hand with great urgency. She stares down at both of her hands encircling yours.

What if it was the pollen talking and she doesn’t really like me? What if she did like me before but feels used now? What if she’s lying about being okay so I won’t worry? I hope she wasn’t scared when she woke up. What if-

“Anxious,” you observe. “I do like you. I don’t feel used, and I hope you don’t either. I’m really okay. When I woke up, I was just confused. I recognized your robe, so I knew I was okay.”

She recognized my robe, so she knew she was okay. She trusts me that much?

Of course I do.

She looks up at you, positively beaming.

“I’m- I’m really happy you’re okay. I think they’ll wanna check your vitals and stuff, but we should be good to go home after that, okay?”

“Okay,” you reply.

“Er… I know this isn’t really the right order of things, but you said before… I- Do you still want…?”

Pleasebemygirlfriendpleasebemygirlfriendpleasebemygirlfriendpleasebemygirlfriendpleasebemygirlfriendpleasebemygirlfriend!

You laugh, and Ellie realizes you’re still holding hands. Her eyes widen and her cheeks flush as she snatches her hands away, crossing her arms and looking adorably shy.

“Yeah, I’ll be your girlfriend.”

“Cool. Thanks.”

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