#plus i got someone in my corner going 'no it slaps' so

[mindfights]

a little chargestep drabble, post-retribution. drips and drabs of intimacy in recovery.

You brace for it, wait for it, want it; Ortega's condemnations, his revulsion, the little tells on his face that confirm everything you feared for years in stereo.

It doesn't come.

It takes time, but you both to settle into some kind of normalcy. It's incremental, the little intimate moves Ortega makes. Fingers lacing with yours, climbing onto the bed beside you — careful not to jostle you, naturally, kisses when you're willing. He doesn't want to spook you, not when you're healing and cornered, and that's perhaps the most obvious and honest read you've ever managed of him.

When they return, the flirtations are less speculative. He's touched your bare skin, run his mouth down the inside of your thighs. He's heard how his name drips off your tongue as all strength in those thighs give out, and he has kissed you, proud and heated.

He develops a habit in your established routine. Helping you dress around the restricting plaster was practical, but this is indulgent. Ortega brushing your hair — an act you repeatedly tell him you're capable of doing yourself to hushed admonishments — and without fail pressing kisses to the back of your neck. Then down. Right to the crown of the tattoos that other you. Whispered insinuations against the flesh you've hated and fought to conceal your whole life about what you could get up to if he just took the day off.

He likes asking you if you want to make up for lost time with a smile that's too soft for the suggestive tone.

You wish the 'idiot' you shoo him off with was sharper.

It's impossible to be sharp with him when you're swimming in one of his undercover sweatshirts, smelling him, smelling like him, legs frighteningly exposed. To vent heat, you justified. You're not ready to say he makes you almost believe you're safe.

Eventually, he provokes you enough with that charming smoothness of his that grates, and you snap at him. Call him an idiot and tell him he has to use the three brain cells that villains haven't beaten out of him yet to see the logistical problems with all his come-ons.

He laughs until he's breathless. "Ains, you're turning me down over logistics?" It's a non-issue, one he's glad to prove, scooping you up like it's nothing. "You know I like challenges."

[signedkoko]

Could I get a Mammon, Vox and Husk with a S/O who gets harassed on the street and their reaction? You can have full creative control over what type of harassment!

I love your fics- if this isn’t getting the creative juices flowing just let me know and I’ll request something different <3

🦷 anon

Husk | Mammon | Vox [Romantic]

In which some loathsome idiot thinks they'll get away with harassing their beloved s/o.

One of your favourite date nights is spent bar hopping

Pop a drink or two in each one, sometimes sharing one cocktail, his wing draped around you, your head leant on his shoulder, humming to the music surrounding you

Both of you had a preference for the less popular spots, the kinds of places you got the weirdest combinations, where he could be inspired and you could give him thoughts

The plus side of the smaller joints was that the music was never too loud, drinks were cheaper, and there was always a few spots free at the bar

Downside was that most places had their regulars, the kind of people who couldn't get in anywhere else

The kind of desperation that builds and spreads like mold in the corner of a dark room next to a leaky pipe

On a few occasions, someone would harmlessly ask to buy you a drink and would turn tail when Husk gave them his usually 'fuck off' look

But this time, the guy would just not get the hint

" What? Already claimed dibs on the bitch? "

Yeah- no, that attitude towards you is not going to fly

Not even three seconds and there's a bottle smashed on the drunk demons head, and three cards flying back into Husk's hand

That's when the bleeding starts

You slap a 20 down for your bill and jump straight up, already being dragged by Husk out the door

Insists if he stayed there you would have both gotten banned anyways, and he likes that spot

You guys don't really go out so casually without a good reason, or just for old times sake

A sin and his spouse on a city street in greed was just asking for bad things to happen

But still, if you asked and he had nothing that day, Mammon would always rather get quality time with you and people watch

Thats most of your conversation, pointing out demons and joking about what you think they are like, what the do, how they speak

It's always a fun game, until some newcomer saw you laughing at him and marched right up, clearly on something and clearly ready to have a go at someone

The moment he reaches for your wrist, his thumb falls to the floor, a messy and jagged cut the only sign of attack besides one of Mammons spider legs now revealed

Before he can even realize the pain or what's happened, Mammon lets out a menacing laugh

" Every extra inch towards my broad is another finger. "

That demon was already screaming and running away, most the crowd on the street that was watching now hurrying in any direction opposite of you and Mammon

" I'm only worth one finger? "

" Nah. Just being generous for once. "

Not really a street guy, but unfortunately some press conferences and events require mingling and interacting with others, which he never liked

Thankfully, with you he has an excuse to stay away from others, or show you off

He usually goes for the latter

He's all 'Have you met my wife?' 'My wife loves x and y!' 'Isn't my wife absolutely gorgeous?'

You are the first topic he speaks of after his company; you'd be the first if he didn't have to waste so much time being a salesman, but that is how the cookie crumbles

Sometimes when there's specific press releases, he has to send you off for a moment, where you usually go and mingle with some of the others in his industry you befriended

During one such interview, he couldn't help but spot out the corner of his eye, some lousy business woman drape her arm around your waist and grab at your hip

" Sorry yeah, this interview is over. "

Literally shoves his way over, sparks and electricity flying, to rip you out of her arms

" Baaabe, is this a friend? Whatever the case, we really gotta get going! "

Jealousy 3000

He's glad he stepped in after he overhears that lady had a habit of harassing other attendees

New clause in every interview; they have to include you or provide security over you while he is busy

Author's Note - Tooth anon comes in for another PIPIN HOT request!! I actually feel so bad because every time I take a break form writing is on yoru request and that really makes it look bad I am so sorry 😩

[blitzyn]

pervert

miguel o'hara x spiderman!reader

request : none

Synopsis: A game of cat and mouse goes to shit, and you find yourself bound in Miguel's webs.

a/n -> literally nobody asked for this but he's been stuck in my mind for decades and i wanted to get something out for my bbg <3 also super sorry i disappeared again, writers block straight up bitch slapped me and left me in a ditch, plus ive been losing interest in writing for genshin or just the game in general, unfortunately.

wc -> 3.3k

cw -> very dubcon, mean dom miguel, degradation, bondage?, face fucking, google translated spanish, spit as lube, anal fingering, anal sex, slight and brief choking, (semi) public sex??, not beta read

Exhilaration filled your veins as breathy laughs escaped your throat, weaving through buildings and rubble with the precision of someone who has experienced this type of chase countless times before.

And that's because you have. You've been in a near never-ending game of cat and mouse with the esteemed Miguel O'Hara, always close enough to feel the swipe of his talons in the air but too far to catch. No matter how many times he's cornered you, you always find a way to get past him; it was predictable at this point.

That pissed Miguel off like no other, hellbent on capturing you to put an end to your snide remarks, to put you in your place. While that usually would've enticed you in any other circumstance, you weren't too keen on letting him dig his claws into you now that you were chest-deep in this predicament — and his wrath.

"Stop running, already!" he shouted, the sharp edges of fury evident in his voice.

"I'm not running!" you respond, peering back at him with a smug grin. True to your words, you, quite literally, were not running. You were swinging with the agility of a seasoned acrobat, twisting and flipping through debris while looking like you were having fun. You offered him occasional glances and nearly laughed each time. Seeing him, a grown-ass man, almost constantly on all fours was amusing, but hearing him curse and grunt and growl made electricity shoot down your spine in a way that nearly got you caught several times.

Adrenaline filled your body and threatened to burst through your chest each time you evaded him. "Missed me!" you laughed, juking away from his swipe.

"So close!" you flip over him with a taunt. "Try again next time!"

"¡Voy a matarte!¹" He growls, and it was hard to ignore the shudder that rushed through your body. You slightly winced at the feeling. If you don't get your shit together when he spoke Spanish, then you were asking to get caught.

But it's not like you'd mind — Actually, yes, you fucking would!

You click your teeth in annoyance. Despite how hard you tried, you couldn't remove Miguel from your thoughts even though he was right behind you, hunting you down like a wild animal. Your mind strayed toward his broad shoulders, beautifully tiny waist, fat ass (that you'd give a lot to slap), and the massive piece of rubble being hurled at your body.

You blink out of your stupor, feeling your senses going off rather violently. Oh shit.

Everything seemed to move painfully slow as you stared at the debris with wide eyes, noticing Miguel's red web attached to it as he brought it down. You flung your arm out in an attempt to attach your webs to something and swing away, but was unable to pull yourself fast enough as the debris pinned you down to the roof of a building.

"Fuck!" you thought as you grunted and squeezed your eyes shut, agony tearing through your entire body. Swiftly, you pushed against the ground to shove the heavy object off of you, groaning with effort. Just as you managed to stand back up, you heard the familiar thwip! of his web wrapping around your waist and arms to yank you to him.

"Caught you," he said, voice rough and breathless as he panted hard. He loomed over you menacingly, hands curled into a fist.

You struggled, kicking and straining against your binds. "Come on, Miguel." You offer a tense grin. "We both know this won't last very long."

"Ay dios míos,²" he growled, dropping to a knee to roughly press a hand on your face, his fingers digging into your cheekbones. "¡Cállate!³"

...

Woah.

You stared at him with wide eyes, feeling your cock stir in your pants. Oh fuck.

It was hard to ignore your ever growing attraction (and hard-on) for him that seemed to intensify when he deactivated the hologram of his mask. Sweat beaded at his temple while his eyes narrowed at your bound figure, fangs peeking out from behind his lips as he caught his breath.

Even when you were the target of his anger, he was still breathtakingly hot.

You opened your mouth again to shout at him — probably to let you go or something along those lines — but Miguel wasn't having it.

"Why is it so much to ask for you to keep your fucking mouth shut for once?" he hissed, squeezing your cheeks tight enough to ache, but it only went straight to your dick. "Is that all you can do? Run your mouth until someone gets sick of your shit and shuts it for you? Huh?"

You whimpered, meekly shaking your head in denial. Tightly closing your eyes, you swallowed hard and squirmed, secretly trying to will away your hard cock straining against your clothes.

"You're so annoying! Stop moving," he demanded, reflexively looking down to adjust his position over you. His eyes raked over your body for a moment before zeroing in on your erection, pausing in surprise.

.

..

...

"Oh, you pervert."

Your eyelids snapped open at his words, mortification seeping deep in your chest as you shifted your head away from him in shame. Despite everything, you could only feel yourself getting harder under his intense gaze.

"Is that why you made me chase after you?" He forced you to look at him again, your face aching at his manhandling. "Because you wanted to fulfill some dirty fantasy of yours?"

He let out a dry laugh. "You couldn't find anyone willing to satisfy that depraved urge, so you turned to me. Just how desperate are you?"

You shook your head again, letting out muffled words. He mercifully removed his hand from your mouth to allow you to speak, sliding lower to rest on your throat. "I was just playing..."

"Yeah?" He tilted his head mockingly, momentarily adjusting himself to grope your painfully stiff dick. "And this was your master plan? To get off at the face of danger? You're more of a degenerate than I thought."

"N-No, I didn't—" you moaned, reflexively bucking your hips up into his hand.

"Stop lying." He squeezed the hand around your throat just enough to force labored gasps from you. "It's stupid how you don't think I've seen the way you look at me — how you think I haven't noticed you eyefucking me."

A furious blush rises on your cheeks as your cock twitches in his hold. It doesn't go unnoticed.

He laughed again, staring at you in mock disbelief. "You're enjoying this."

And this time, you don't deny it.

"Can't say I expected anything higher from you." He rolled his eyes in exasperation and removed his hands from your throat and dick to place them on your thighs. Effortlessly, he pried them apart to slot himself in between your legs, pressing his crotch flush against your ass.

Groaning, you lifted your hips a bit in an attempt to grind on him. With a growl, he swiftly slapped a hand on your abdomen to push you back on the ground.

"Don't move," he said, glaring at you with a mix of arousal and irritation in his eyes. "I've had enough of you getting your way." He leaned forward, a wince crossing your face when he pressed some of his weight onto your stomach. "It's my turn."

"My way—?" You cut yourself off with a huff when he gave you a stern look.

A thought seemed to pique his interest when he suddenly decided to kneel beside your head. It was nigh impossible to tear your eyes away from his crotch, the area beginning to glitch with a dim, pale blue glow at the strain from his hardening cock.

"Let's put your mouth to better use." He grabbed a fistful of your hair and deactivated the hologram covering his dick. It landed on your face with a quiet slap before his hand guided it to your lips.

You hesitantly parted them, only for them to be forced open wider to make room for his cock. You let out a surprised sound at the entry, but he was entirely focused on making you take him completely.

He was gracious enough to take it slow, relishing in the sounds of your gags and sputters and every deep inhale.

"Thaaat's it," he drawled out, sighing heavily when he felt your tongue rub against the underside of the shaft. "Fuck..."

Your eyelashes fluttered as he buried your nose into his pubic hair, uncontrollably drooling over him while you sucked and licked what you could. You felt him harden in your mouth, forcing himself deeper into your throat while it tightened and spasmed.

He increased the speed of his thrusts, absentmindedly shuffling closer to your face. A shiver ran down your spine when he slithered a hand on the junction between the back of your head and neck to hold you firmly.

A garbled whine left your throat as you subconsciously jerked your hips upwards, searching for some form of relief for your aching cock. You strained against the webs around your torso and arms, utterly intoxicated with his taste, his scent, his sounds—with him.

With a groan, he shoved himself as far as he could inside your throat and held you in place, ignoring how you instinctively struggled against him. A high-pitched ring sounded through your ears as your head spun, chest tightening with the need for oxygen.

Shuddering, he finally pulled out of you, watching with satisfaction as you coughed and gasped for air. A mix of saliva and precum connected your lips and the tip of his cock, to which you quickly licked away. You let him inspect you with a hand still buried in your hair, gaze locked in on your drool slicked chin and swollen lips.

A quiet hmph left him before he turned to place himself back in-between your thighs again, this time extending his talons to tear a path in your clothes from your ass to your crotch.

"H-Hey! Hold on—" you protested and kicked his arm away from you.

"Shut up," he cut you off, swatting your foot away while grasping your painfully hard cock again. "Don't act like you don't want this."

"G-God..." you moaned, furrowing your brows as you stared at him. A squeak left your throat when he suddenly pressed your legs to your chest, a quiet ptuh! escaping his lips alongside a glob of saliva that landed on your asshole.

Retracting his talons, he let go of one of your legs to press two fingers against your hole, shoving them inside you abruptly. You winced at the sting his thick fingers made as it mixed in with the arousal that burned in your gut. He separated them in a scissoring motion, moving in and out at a pace that had you yearning for more. His fingertips brushed against spots so frustratingly close to your prostate, you were sure he was purposefully avoiding it to mess with you.

"H-Hurry up," you demanded, the ache in your balls beginning to prove to be something you could hardly handle.

He gave you a sharp look. "Tell me to hurry up again and I'm leaving you like this."

You stared at each other for a moment longer before you looked away in defeat, muttering under your breath. He ignored you and added another finger, the wet squelching blending in with your soft moans. His hard cock pressed on your thigh, and you briefly wondered how he wasn't fucking you within an inch of your life already.

Quickly enough, you were able to realize that he wanted to make you wait. He wanted to give you a hard time — just like you did to him.

"C-C'mon, Miguel." You breathlessly chuckled, straining against the webs around your torso.

"What?" He raised a brow, satisfaction seeping into his expression at your growing desperation.

You opened your mouth again when he unexpectedly jabbed his fingertips onto your prostate, sending a violent surge of electricity through your body. "Fuck!" You cried out as a spurt of precum leaked out of your dick and enlarged the wet spot on your clothes. He continued targeting the gland, refusing to let you get a word in your sentence. The coil in your abdomen tightened into an almost unbearable degree before he abruptly removed his hand from you entirely.

"God, just fuck me already!" You jerked your hips upwards in a futile search for stimulation.

"You sound just like a whore," he commented, tone full of condescension. A heat washed over your body at his words as you stared at him with wide eyes. You tensed when he leaned down, lust and mirth swirling within his red irises. "Is that all you are?"

"What?" You found yourself unable to look away from him. "N-No, I—"

He shoved his cock inside you mid-sentence, tearing a loud moan from your throat. He held your thighs to fold you in half, using his body weight to pin you down. You panted hard as you tilted your head to the side and squeezed your eyes shut. It was hard to focus on anything else but his dick filling you up so perfectly.

Miguel released a gutteral groan, grinding his hips against you. He dug his fingertips into your legs hard enough to bruise, but that was the least of his worries — not when he had you below him. After a moment that felt like an eternity, he leaned back (mercifully removing some of the pressure on your chest) and watched himself move in and out of you, pulling out almost all the way before he slammed himself back inside.

"Ohh, fuck!"

"This is what gets you — mierda⁴ — all compliant, huh?" He taunted, abdomen flexing with every thrust. "The moment you get some dick inside you, you're like a trained mutt."

You opened your eyes to weakly glare at him, to deny what he said, but the moans spilling from your lips did nothing but prove him right.

"Te gusta cuando te trato como si no fueras nada, ¿no?⁵" He leaned back down, hooking his arms around the back of your knees as he pressed his chest against yours, curling his wrists around your thighs to grip the flesh. His breath was hot and heavy against the shell of your ear, lips so close you could feel the vibrations of his voice in your ear drum. "Aren't I right, you dirty little pervert?"

"N-No! S'not right!" You cried out, the burn of his cock stretching you out mixing in with the pleasure so deliciously it was almost addicting.

"Deja de mentirte y admítelo, puta,⁶" he hissed, widening his mouth to graze a fang along your neck threateningly, which sent a shiver down your spine. "Admit it — that you're a depraved whore."

"Admit it." He emphasized each syllable with a thrust, ramming into you hard enough to fuck the breath out of your lungs.

"Shit—fuck! Oh, god!" You sobbed, arching your back into him. You nearly came at the feeling of his abdomen rubbing your aching dick. "I'm a whore! M'your whore!"

His cock throbbed fervently at your words, rewarding you with groans and grunts directly into your ear. Your ass slightly stung at the force of his thrusts as he fucked his anger into you, but neither of you cared.

"Fuuuck!" You drawled out. "Miguel, m'so close! Let — ngh, ah — Let me cum!"

"Yeah?" He cooed in your ear, gently licking the shell. "You gonna cum f'me?"

"Yes, yes—!"

"Then beg."

He stopped moving so unexpectedly that it left you disoriented for a few moments as you stupidly stared at him with wide, watery eyes. "W-What...?"

"Beg to cum," he leaned away from you to get a clearer look at your face. "I'm not repeating myself."

You took a moment to catch your breath (and secretly savor the feeling of his dick twitching inside you). "God, please, Miguel! I need it so bad. I need to cum — please let me cum! I'll be good, I promise! Fuck, Miguel, please let me cum! Please, please, please!"

The sight of the tears along your lash lines sent electricity down his spine as his breath hitched. "You'll be good?" He dryly laughed. "I don't think I believe you."

You opened your mouth in defense when he suddenly slammed himself back inside you, tearing a moan instead of words from your throat. He fucked you hard and fast and deep, grunting in a way you could only describe as animalistic.

But you loved it. You loved how he controlled your body so effortlessly, how he treated you like a cheap fuck toy. You mentally deemed all those chases worth it in the end.

The heat from less than a minute or two prior returned full force as you tilted your head back in ecstasy. You babbled out incoherent words of (what Miguel suspected to be) praise, straining against your binds once again.

You screamed out when the coil in your abdomen finally snapped, electricity shooting down your spine as your cock spurt cum underneath your clothes. You weren't able to process the stain in the fabric when you realized that he hadn't slowed down, deciding to fuck you through your orgasm to chase his own.

You stared up at him, admiring the slight flush on his cheeks, how his brows furrowed in concentration, and even his eyes that shone with disdain towards you.

You could feel his dick throbbing inside you, and you quickly realized that he was about to cum as well. The ecstasy you were granted slowly began to merge with the pain of overstimulation, but it only made the hazy bliss you were in so much better.

"Yes, yes, Miguel!" You gasped out as your legs trembled in his hold. "Cum inside me, please, I want it!"

He grunted at your words, fucking you with a few more harsh thrusts before he suddenly pulled out. It took you a moment longer than normal for you to process the uncomfortable emptiness as he let go of one of your legs to quickly jerk himself off.

"What—No! Please, Miguel!" You pleaded uselessly, wincing when he tightened his grip on your thigh and unintentionally extended his talons. They penetrated through your clothes and pierced your skin, drawing a bit of blood, but that was neither of your concern at the moment.

"Ay, solo cállate ya,⁷" he growled, releasing your thigh to press his palm against your mouth to silence you. You let out pathetic whines and whimpers, but Miguel was focused on achieving his orgasm.

With a final few strokes, he finally came with a loud groan as his cum spurt onto the floor. He angled his hips to make sure none of it landed on you, much to your obvious dismay. With a heavy sigh, he leaned back and stared at your bound body, trembling and helpless. It was satisfying to see you in such a state.

He reactivated the hologram over his softening cock before binding your legs together in a way that hid the large hole in your pants to prevent anyone from figuring out what the two of you did.

He sighed heavily and slung you over his shoulder, standing up to look around and figure out where the fuck he was.

"You have a really nice ass," you commented after a moment, unable to keep your compliments to yourself.

He groaned. It was gonna be a long trip back to HQ.

Translations:

1: "I'm going to kill you!"

2: "Oh my god."

3: "Shut up!"

4: "Shit..."

5: "You like it when I treat you like you're nothing, don't you?"

6: "Stop lying to yourself and admit it."

7: "Oh, just shut up already."

cross-posted on ao3

[diyasgarden]

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!

[sgojoenthusiast]

ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ KINKTOBER 2023 ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

➸ DAY TEN: THE GAME.

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summary: Eren hate everything about you - from your attitude to your friends and your clothes, he hates you. You make other's lives miserable, and he's determined to put you in your place with an innocent game which results in you having to do whatever he wants for the rest of the night.

CW: fem reader, smut, halloween party, costumes, drinking, beer pong, reader is a bitch like you are seriously unlikeable, like she's a bully & your typical mean girl, masturbation, men being men but only for a sec, reader has to do whatever Eren wants yet the sexual stuff is consensual, spanking, bondage, degrading, eren steals ur thong, public sex, semi-public sex, praise, blowjob, throat-fucking, slapping, choking, biting, humping/shoe-fucking, eren calls you 'princess', no use of y/n.

a/n: so we're a good while into november and i'm just posting my last kinktober post - oops. i've been so busy plus i wanted to wait cus idk if it's disrespectful to the dead to post smut about them (spoiler warning) like right after they died. anyway, i read a book or another fanfic w a similiar plot ages ago and it's been stuck in my head since but i can't rememeber what it's called lol.

word count: 13.7k - if you read this, ilysm.

likes, comments and reposts are deeply appreciated! <3 enjoy.

masterlist.

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Eren couldn’t stand you. He couldn’t stand the way you thought so highly of yourself or how you’d walk around with your head high and a disgusted look on your face when you saw someone like him. He couldn’t stand people you surround yourself with or how you managed to look so fucking good in every outfit you put on.

He could't stand the raging urge he felt to fuck the attitude right out off you.

On the other hand, you found yourself not looking twice in his direction unless it was to make a snide comment to your friends followed by a mocking laugh before you went on with your day not thinking about him for another second.

Eren, however, would think about that comment for the rest of the day. It didn't upset him, he was by no means offended by your comment. It just shocked him to an immeasurable amount that you were still this much of an impudent bitch in college. Surely you would have managed to grow up a bit after high school, right?

No. Not a single part of you had managed to catch a glimpse of the real world past the curtains of your life as a spoiled, popular, hot girl who thought there was nothing out there more important than money and looks.

In all fairness, both of those things had gotten you everything you had ever wanted, yet in effect, it ruined the lives of the people around you as you dragged them down to build yourself up.

That's why he came to this party, knowing fully well that you would be here. Tonight, he was determined to humble you - make you feel every fraction of hurt and shame you had forced onto other's your entire life.

Eren wasn't exactly popular, which is why he was shocked to have been invited to this party in the first place. He had his small group of friends and he was content with that. Mikasa and Armin were also skeptical of coming, confused as to why Eren was so persistent after he had spent all of his years in high school and the time you had spent together in college slandering your name and every other popular mother fucker - all of them were exactly like you, and all of them were at this party.

He had a slight feeling that it was due to Jean, the host of the party, and his blatant crush on Mikasa - yet she went wherever Eren went and they could always count on Armin to tag along as well, even if it took a lot of persuasion from Eren. Armin was confused why Eren was so persistent on coming, yet he let it go once Eren got defensive when he asked.

It was a halloween party, meaning there were all sorts of costumes to be seen from every corner. Of course, you were all adults now, so instead of anything actually scary there were mini-skirts and shirtless guys wherever his eyes fell. Eren didn’t want to dress up - in fact, he had forgotten completely as he was so focused on coming up with a plan that would land you right where he wanted you, therefore, he opted for a tight black shirt and some baggy pants.

Once his eyes caught yours, he scoffed. You were dressed entirely in black. A black corset decorated with beautiful patterns, a small black skirt (that could have passed as a belt but that didn't seem to bother you), black fishnets and boots that reached up past your knees. Of course, to finish the look, there was a pair of angel wings and a halo that adorned your head. A dark angel, not an uncommon look but considering you were the only one wearing it, it could have passed as that. The reason he had scoffed at the sight of you was because he assumed you must have threatened anyone going for the same look as you in order to assure you were different to everyone else - he couldn't think of you any more highly than that.

He mentally scolded himself for the way his eyes were dragging themselves all over the parts of your body that your costume didn’t cover - and there was a lot of it on display. Your costume left hardly anything to the imagination.

Eren could feel himself hardening in his pants just from the sight of you and he cursed himself internally for it. Why here and why now? Usually, just the thought of you would be enough to rile him up enough for him to get hard but tonight he swore he wouldn’t let his eyes or mind wander.

Quickly, he excused himself, leaving behind a confused Mikasa and Armin. The pair had exchanged glances since they had arrived due to Eren’s strange behaviour - but they chose not to bring it up.

The house was massive, and there were plenty of bathrooms, so nobody should mind if he occupied this one in particular for just long enough to take care of his problem.

His back hit the wall and he groaned in both pleasure and frustration once his hand reached to free his aching dick. He held his shirt up with his teeth and watched as his hand moved up and down his hardened cock.

His breath hitched when his thumb ran across the tip and he threw his head back and screwed his eyes shut in order to help prevent any more noises from leaving his throat.

Eren’s mind wandered to the sight of your thighs clad in those black fishnets and the way your skirt was so short he was certain that if you bent down just a little, he’d be able to take a peek at your ass from underneath. He wanted nothing more than to tear those angel wings right off you whilst whispering in your ear from behind about how much of a dirty slut you were and how there was no place in heaven for such a dirty thing like you all whilst fucking into you relentlessly to the point where you were too fucked-dumb to argue back.

The grip he had on his dick tightened and he shuddered at the feeling, his pace increasing as the sound of him fisting his cock rang throughout the bathroom. He was panting  and groaning, unable to hold himself back for much longer.

What sent him over the edge, was the thought of how well you’d take him because he knew that underneath all the layers of this vain and hateful version of yourself was a slut who was begging to get degraded and humiliated - even if you didn’t know it yet. He envisioned how tightly your cunt would squeeze him as though it was so desperate for his cock and how you’d whine and plead him to stop like a brat but you’d never use your safe word because at the end of the day, you needed him to fill you up. He pictured the cute face you’d make as you came all around his cock, screaming his name and dragging your nails down his back.

Eren wasn’t able to control himself for much longer before let out a strained groan and shot hot ropes of cum over his hand all whilst his grip on his cock never slowed or stopped for a second.

He had spent many nights in this situation - fisting his cock until he was all out of orgasms whilst picturing all the different positions he’d put you in and all the types of punishments you’d have to endure just to get a taste of his dick.

Tonight. He told himself. Tonight he will have all of that - he’ll have you begging for all of it.

Quickly, he cleaned himself up and opened the door, surprised to only find one person waiting who could barely hold himself up which saved him the embarrassment of having to walk out to find a crowd of people waiting.

He rejoined Mikasa and Armin, and began to wait for the perfect moment to put his plan in action.

You, however, were sitting in the living room on the armrest of one of the chairs with your other stuck up, self-obsessed friends, chatting shit about every person under the sun whilst simultaneously insulting each other as subtly as possible. 

You were sitting by Hitch, leaning against her whilst absentmindedly playing with a strand of her hair as she leaned back and sipped on her drink watching as the people around her tore each other and everyone else to bits.

Hitch had been your one and only true friend - the only one you could securely say you trusted with anything and the only person you would let see through your bitchy facade and the wall of hidden insecurities lying within. The only thing allowing you to act so cruel and heartless towards others was that very wall, the one that prevented people from getting close to you but also letting anything out that may subject you to the same remarks you throw around so casually. In the world of social status, it was kill or be killed - but in more of a metaphorical manner. 

Occasionally, you would chime into the slaughter of other people’s names and reputations, adding your own (exaggerated) experiences and opinions of other people’s lives. 

You stopped paying as much attention when the guys started talking disgustingly about which girls they were planning on fucking tonight - you simply turned to hitch and rolled your eyes to which she laughed. 

“How about her over there?” one of the guys asked, pointing in the direction of a brunette standing awkwardly on her own as she tried to drink her nerves away. It was quite clear she was listening in on the conversation, whether that was involuntarily or on purpose, and the very mention of her caused her to quickly glance at your group before turning her face away - burning a bright red colour whilst looking for a way to escape, yet she was unsuccessful and ended up staying put.

Luckily for her, you gave her her own way of escape.

“Her? No, she’s such a slut.” You said without hesitation because it was what you did. You had walked in on her making out with another guy in the bathroom a few months ago and of course you had to tell everybody about it. “I mean, she can’t keep it in her pants long enough to wait until she’s not in public to fuck her weird ass boyfriend.”

The people around you snickered and the girl looked like she was on the verge of tears. You were being purposefully loud, making extra sure that she could hear you and not feeling an ounce of guilt.

“I mean, you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?” One of the girls sat across from you said.

You were used to other girls trying to throw passive aggressive comments in your direction, yet it would always end with them knocked out cold or with a broken nose so not many tried anymore - so her blatant rudeness threw you off a bit however you tried to keep your composure. You gave her a tight lipped smile and she stared at you with challenging eyes.

“Sorry, who are you?” you asked, clear malice sewn into your voice.

She laughed mockingly before replying. “Just someone who doesn’t sleep with every guy who gives her the time of day.”

Squeezing your empty cup, you scoffed and got up from your seat, clearly vexed by the comment made yet not quite drunk enough to start a fight just yet. 

What the fuck does she know? People thought of you as a self-obsessed whore, but in reality, only one of those things were true. You had only slept with two other guys, one being your long-term boyfriend and the other being a rebound after your break-up.

As you walked, Hitch called out to you, asking you where you were going and as you turned around to shout back, Eren could feel the excitement growing inside of him at the opportunity that had presented itself - the one he had been waiting for and imagining since the day he first saw you.

“I’m gonna grab another drink.” You shouted back to her over the music, she could barely hear you, but she nodded anyway.

Eren made his way to the path that you were taking and accidentally bumped into you.

Spinning around, you glared at him with nothing but anger and disgust. “Watch where you’re going, freak.”

Not wanting to waste anymore time, you attempted to walk off from him and make your way to the kitchen. Yet, Eren had other plans.

Swiftly, he grabbed your arm. His hold wasn’t painful, yet it was firm enough that you couldn’t escape it.

He wanted to laugh at the look on your face.

It was one that indicated that nobody like him, nobody beneath you, had ever stood up to you before. Nobody like him had grabbed you before. Your eyes were wide, and if he looked hard enough, he swore he would have been able to see steam coming out from your ears, yet his hold didn’t falter for a second. 

“What the fuck are you doing, perv? How fucking dare you-”

“I want you to apologise.” He started, and that look of amazement on your face only seemed to grow. For the first time in your life, you were utterly speechless.

“What?”

“It wasn’t my fault you bumped into me. You were the one who wasn’t watching where you were going.” His grip around you tightened slightly, causing your face to scrunch up before your lips parted in shock. “Therefore, I want you to apologise.”

Eren’s voice was low and calm, there wasn’t a hint of any pent up frustration hidden anywhere within it. In fact, he sounded like he didn’t know who you were, and to you, it looked like it as well.

After snapping out of your stupor, you let out a harsh laugh at his demand and jolted out of his hold, taking a few steps back. “You want me to apologise? Over my dead body. Who the fuck do you think you are?”

You started to recognise him from one of your classes but you refused to portray any sort of recognition in your voice or features, not wanting to inflate his ego any higher or make him feel any more special than he already does just from talking to you. Evan? Ernie?

“Someone who’s not gonna fucking bow down to you and fall to his knees begging for an apology, princess.” Every syllable was laced with sarcasm and there was a hint of resentment in his tone - the latter not being something you weren’t used to, there were plenty of people who hated you in silence because of envy though it wasn’t typically something you heard from guys.

“Are you asking to get your ass kicked, or what? Just because you won't do anything I ask, doesn’t mean there aren’t plenty of guys who won't.”

Eren looked down at you with a lazy smirk plastered on his face, and if you weren’t so pissed off at him, you would have been able to recognise the traces of malicious intent hidden behind the green of his eyes - like he was planning something.

And, fuck, was he planning something.

“Fine then,” his head motioned to the table setup with various cups filled with beer. “One game of beer pong. Loser apologises.”

He wasn’t an idiot - he knew you’d refuse to waste your time on a useless apology that you didn’t want all that much and he was the same. There’s no way he’d actually play you just for an apology.

“As if. I don’t want to waste any more time on you than I already have.”

Before you could walk off, Eren grabbed your arm once again.

“Okay… then the loser has to do whatever the other person wants for the rest of the night.”

As he expected, you stopped resisting. It pissed you off immensely that Eren wasn’t the type to just do whatever you wanted, and right now you wanted nothing more than for him to understand his place.

You paused in consideration. If you won, there wouldn’t be much of a difference. You didn’t need Eren to be in your corner all night waiting for your command, you had plenty of people who wouldn’t say no when you asked them to do something. The only thing you’d gain is more pride. If you lost, however, you’d have to do whatever Eren says and that would damage your reputation far past fixable. It would be social suicide and you’d never recover from the humiliation. But, you wouldn’t lose, right?

"Fine then," You started, eyeing him up and down as your tongue ran across your teeth. "Loser has to do whatever the winner wants for the rest of the night. Deal?"

The two of you shook on it, you making an exaggerated gesture of wiping your hand on your outfit after your hands separated just to remind him of how low he stood beneath you. Eren only let out a curt laugh as he rolled his eyes.

"Can't wait to make you my little bitch, Aaron."

A slight pause before he replied, "It's Eren."

Narrowing his eyes at you in utter disbelief, he tried to calm himself down, reminding himself that there would be plenty of opportunities for him to humiliate you later.

"Yeah... okay." You gave him a look that signified how little you cared. He simply brushed it off.

The two of you began to head towards the table, two people in the process of finishing up a game before you snapped at them to leave. Eren, on the other hand, had been pulled to the side by Mikasa and Armin, the latter scolding him for what he was about to do.

“If you lose, you’ll never live it down. If you win, her fucking minions will be on you like-”

“I know what I’m doing, just leave it.”

The two watched Eren as he turned his back, heading for the table where you were waiting with an impatient scowl on your face despite the fact you had only been waiting for about two minutes.

Mikasa tried to call out to him, yet her efforts were futile given the loud music that still boomed throughout the halls. Giving up, the pair looked at each other with concern etched into their features before reluctantly joining the crowd that had formed around the two of you.

You made a snappy comment along the lines of ‘getting this over and done with’ before Eren gestured for you to go first. There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation as you threw the first shot, immediately getting it into one of the back cups and watched, unblinking, as Eren tossed the cup's contents down his throat like it was nothing.

This went on for a while - you'd successfully get the ball into one of his cups and then watch intently as he drank the beer inside. There was something about watching the way his throat would bop or how he’d wipe his mouth, his eyes on yours, and then tossing it to the side before taking a ball and throwing it effortlessly into one of your cups.

You hated how attractive he was and hated yourself for not being able to take your eyes off him.

Now, you had only three cups left, whereas he had four. You cursed yourself for missing the last time but it wasn’t your fault when you could feel his eyes burning holes through you whilst he shot you that same stupid smirk he kept giving you.

It wasn’t because you found it attractive, it just irritated you endlessly. There was no other logical explanation than irrational anger - that's what caused you to miss your last shot. So, as you watched him throw the ball and the way it danced around the rim of your cup before falling in, you promised yourself you wouldn’t miss these last shots.

The other times you had missed, he wasn’t smirking at you nor was he staring at you like he could see through your clothes - so it really was the only explanation.

As much as he liked to think he did, he didn’t make you nervous.

Taking the cup, you lifted it to your lips and swallowed back the beer, some of it dribbling down your chin and down your chest.

Eren refused to let himself react loudly, though, as he fought against how his hands were gripping onto the table and how his jaw was clenched. 

The two of you continued the game, Eren missing once, leaving the two of you with only one cup left.

It was Eren’s turn, but it didn’t matter whether or not he got this last one in as long as you could get your next in.

Your fingers tapped anxiously and impatiently against the table as he stretched out his turn for longer than he should have been - like he was purposefully trying to ensure you missed your next throw. 

Aiming the ball, he threw it perfectly in the cup causing your face to drop before immediately wiping the reaction off your face.

Running his tongue over his teeth, he looked up at you with a winning smile and a vicious look in his eyes. “Your turn, princess. You don’t wanna miss this one.” Eren drawled, standing back from the table and crossing his arms arrogantly. “Unless, you actually want to be my bitch for the rest of the night.”

The large group of people gathered around all of you snickered at his comment and waited for your response eagerly. 

“In your dreams, perv.” You snarled at him, taking the ball and aiming it carefully at the last cup. Taking a deep breath in, you threw the ball and hoped for the best.

Watching as it hit the rim of the cup and bounced straight back off, your eyes widened and your face filled with horror. Your hands fell to your sides and you stared blankly at the cup in defeat.

“Just one more go, I-”

Reaching for the ball that had betrayed you and had begun to roll to your side of the table, you were cut off by Eren placing his hand over yours as it rested on top of the ball. Your head snapped up to meet his in annoyance. Once again, he was looking down at you and you had never felt so small. Your heart stuttered, there was too much humour in his crooked smile for someone who had innocently proposed a game of beer pong.

“No. We made a deal.” He sounded so naturally calm and though his voice wasn’t gloating - his eyes certainly were. 

You wanted to cry but you wouldn’t allow yourself to. There was no way you’d toss away all of your pride tonight - you were already going to have to do anything he asked you to so you refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry.

Dropping your head and releasing the grip you had on the ball, you pulled away from him and sighed in defeat. It pissed you off to no extent to lose in front of all these people, especially seeing as though Eren had made the terms of the game clear to everyone watching.

You couldn’t help but scold yourself for even accepting those terms - it benefitted you very little. Never did you think you would lose and have to follow Eren around like a dog all night and wait for him to give a command.

Folding your arms, you raised your head, deciding to at least pretend that your defeat hadn’t pissed you off endlessly. 

“So?” You asked, waiting for whatever embarrassing wish he had for you to fulfil.

“I want you to get on your knees and apologise.”

You felt the life drain from your face as your heart plummeted. As if the night couldn’t get any more humiliating, Eren was right there to remind you that it can and it will. Shaking your head, you swallowed nervously and replied. “No way. Not in front of all these people.”

“We had a deal, didn’t we? On your knees, princess.” He spat venomously. You looked up into his eyes with a silent pleading desperation and realised there was no negotiating when you noticed how lifeless and full of hatred his eyes were. It also hit you at that moment that he had been waiting for an opportunity like this for a while. Had he planned this entire thing?

Looking around, you felt a burning amount of rage flow through you as you bit your lip and sank to your knees.

“I’m sorry.” Your tone wasn’t short of seething anger and you kept your head down, not wanting to look at how proud he must be.

“Aw, c’mon, you can do better than that,” Your fingers grasped at the thin and short material of your skirt in frustration. “Look, you can sit here and apologise properly to get this over and done with, or we can be here all night - which is only more embarrassing for you, really. I mean, at least try to sound sorry.”

As much as you didn’t want to admit for the second time in two minutes, he was right, so you caved in.

“I’m sorry, Eren. I’m sorry I wasn’t watching where I was going and bumped into you and I’m sorry I said it was your fault. Also, I’m sorry for calling you a freak… and a perv,” Looking up at him, you stare intently into his eyes, like he was the only other person in the room. Your voice lowered to just over a whisper. “Please forgive me.”

Eren stood above you with his arms folded - his face now void of any emotion, not even a hint of pride or victory carved into his features as he looked down on you.

“Hm. I’ll think about it.”

How the fuck did he manage to annoy you more and more with every word that fell from his lips? He’ll think about it? What the fuck does he even mean by that? 

“You asked me to apologise, and I did. So just fucking forgive me.”

Eren crouched down to your level and took your chin in between his index finger and thumb before leaning over to whisper in your ear. “I’d watch what you say, princess. You don’t wanna get punished do you? I mean, how would all these people react once I tell them their perfect girl keeps pressing her legs together every time I look at her?”

He noticed that? No, scrap that - why the fuck did just the mention of getting punished cause that familiar throbbing in between your legs? And the way his breath was fanning your ear and how low his voice sounded as he spoke. What the fuck was he doing to you?

Pulling away, he gave you an expectant look and you shook your head - agreeing with him.

He stood up and motioned for you to follow him.

Fuck was this going to be a long night.

Within minutes of his victory, there were people crowding Eren and talking to him like they had been friends for years - like he wasn’t the type they’d make fun of behind his back. Like you hadn’t watched them.

You dragged your feet and followed him wherever he went, occasionally going to fetch him or his new-found friends another drink whenever he asked you to. 

He wasn’t talking to you much, and you were grateful for that. He didn’t gloat or brag about his victory, he simply gave you a demanding look and gave you a task to do. 

Despite this, he was constantly looking over at you. His eyes would wander down your body just like they had done when you bumped into him and like they were when you were playing beer pong. His eyes would burn holes into your skin before he would lick his lips and turn back around to rejoin the conversation he had temporarily removed himself from. You assumed he was simply trying to make sure you hadn’t ran off.

The thought had crossed your mind a few times. You could run off and save your reputation, but you were getting an odd sort of pleasure from the way he was ordering you around, laughing at you and thinking of new ways he could humiliate you in front of everyone.

Him not speaking to you, however, also gave you the time to properly look at him as well. You were right previously, he was in one of your classes. He sat at the back, typically staring out the window or twirling his pen. You don’t know how you never really paid any attention to him before because there was something about him that was so… attractive. 

Eren had a quiet, brooding look about him that would generally scare other people - or at least earn him a few weird looks.

Not tonight, however. His typical chilling look was embraced given the fact it was halloween and it made you seethe with anger at his blatant hypocrisy after he had made his distaste of you due to your popularity so apparent all whilst soaking in the amount of attention he was getting instead of you.

You were outraged that you were having to stoop down to his level and embarrass yourself in front of everyone. Yet, for some reason, you weren’t able to prevent the throbbing feeling between your legs when he was looking down at you and commanding you to do something else he could have done easily on his own.

You were glaring at him when he suddenly decided to excuse himself from the group he was with and called you to follow him. Cursing under your breath, you hurried after him with an annoyed look plastered onto your face.

“What's wrong with you?” He did nothing to hide his mocking tone or the humour he found in your situation.

“I have no clue what you’re on about. I just fucking love following you around like a dog and doing whatever you want.” You snapped, crossing your arms and furrowing your brows.

“Well that's good, considering you’ll be doing it for the rest of the night.”

There was a ringing in your ear and you wanted nothing more than to take a hammer and smash every single speaker that echoed the beat of the music throughout the cramped halls. Every brush of someone walking past you was making you incredibly frustrated and you felt so close to lashing out at someone - preferably Eren.

“You’re an asshole.”

Within seconds, you were pulled into an empty corner and pushed against the wall. Eren had one of his hands on your hip and the other had a deathly grip on your chin. 

“And you’re a pathetic slut who’s been staring at me the entire night with those stupid ‘fuck me’ eyes and pressing her legs together because it’s all the action she’ll be getting for a while after this.”

Your heart was thumping in your chest because of his bold accusations, and despite this, you could feel yourself growing hotter. Your skin became more sensitive and was tingling at every touch and where his hand was touching gently on your hip it felt like you were burning.

You were holding your breath - hardly able to speak or think of a comeback until you remembered how he had been eyeing you the entire time as well.

“Oh yeah? Haven’t you been eye-fucking me this entire night? If you play your cards right, I might let you fuck me?”

Eren pulled back slightly and barked out a laugh at your response as though it was the funniest thing in the world which only irritated you more, though you refused to show it.

Subtly, he slipped his leg in between yours and pushed them away slightly, creating room for him to press his thigh up against your clothed pussy and giving you a taste of the pleasure he could bring you just by simply moving his thigh to rest between your legs. Though, he knew what he was doing as he moved his leg slightly resulting in him grinding his leg against your clit causing you to whine softly.

“Let me? Princess, you really have no idea who’s in control, don’t you? If I feel like fucking you, I will, and you’re gonna take it like a good girl, aren’t you? Because, you’ve been so good to me the entire night, you don’t want to spoil it, do you? I mean, sure, you can’t take a single order without a complaint or any back talk, but you’re getting there. You’re a spoiled little thing, but one that I can shape easily into a perfect little slut.”

The way he was talking about you and degrading you would have usually had you slapping him in the face and walking off immediately. But the way his insults rolled off his tongue so naturally was so appealing and had the control that you were so desperately trying to grasp at, falling from your fingers even further than before. 

That’s what you needed. Control.

“You’re right, Eren,” biting your lip, you took one of your fingers and slid it down his shirt and across his stomach. You felt like gasping when you could feel his figure through the tight material of the shirt yet you decided to remain silent. “I’ve been so good to you. Don’t you think I deserve a reward?”

Control was something that was very short-lived when you were faced with someone like Eren. Someone who could so easily snatch it up from underneath your nose and wave it obnoxiously in your face.

“For what, hm? Doing as you’re told? That’s what I fucking expect from you. No, you’ll get a reward when you impress me. Like I said, you can’t even get through a single task without a complaint. What’s so difficult about grabbing a couple of drinks?”

“You won’t let me have one.” You retorted, a pout settling on your face. The first time he had told you to get him a drink, you had got one for yourself as well - a way to calm your nerves and help you through this dreadful night. Immediately, he had taken your drink away from you and drank it right in front of your face as you stood there and watched dumb-founded.

He had told you that you weren’t allowed another drink unless he permitted you to and you blew up in his face about how unfair it was and called him a variety of creative insults.

Eren was ensuring that you were sober enough to feel the humiliation of your situation but also that you were in the right state of mind for when he inevitably fucks you tonight.

“That’s right, I won’t. You’ll understand why soon.”

Eren removed himself away from you completely and went on about his night like that interaction hadn’t left him as flustered and yet simultaneously annoyed as you were. 

He walked into the same living room you had started your night in. There was a different group of people in there, yet immediately, as if he was famous, someone offered their seat to Eren and two girls sat themselves next to him.

There was a panging feeling of jealousy hovering within you as you watched them touch his arms and laugh unnecessarily loud at one of his jokes.

He had just been flirting with you and yet somehow, he had easily moved on to the two girls he saw next whilst asking them if they wanted a drink because he knew just the person to fetch them.

You stormed off to the kitchen, pissed off at how he seemed to be enjoying the company of those two other girls far more than your own. 

But why? They wouldn’t be able to handle him like you could. If he was finding pleasure in ordering you about and forcing you to humiliate yourself, all whilst grinding his thigh against you in a place where anyone could have walked past, who knew what other kinky shit he was into?

There was a sense of desperation that hung over you. You wanted him to notice you, you wanted to get his attention so badly, you wanted to show him just how much of a slut you could be for him.

There was no way he’d even look in the direction of another woman after tonight, you swore it.

Bending down, you placed their drinks on the table, flashing him your black, lacy thong in the process yet not caring because you took pleasure in showing off knowing the people behind him could see as well.

“That’s a nice thong you’re wearing.” He stated blandly. You turned around to look down at him, sitting so carelessly on the sofa with his arms draped around two other girls. 

For some reason, this frustrated you to no extent. You wanted to believe that it was because of how annoying it was that he could pretend like he couldn’t care less about you. But, in reality, you wanted nothing but his attention on you. You didn’t want him to be touching other girls - that was the reason you had flashed him your thong as well, in hopes that he would catch a glimpse of what he was missing.

You grinned when he noticed the fact that he had been staring so shamelessly at your clothed pussy, letting you know that he did want you and not them.

What he said afterwards, took you aback. The grin on your face immediately being wiped away from existence - no trace of it to be seen.

“Give it to me.”

Your mouth was agape and there was nothing but disgust plastered all over your face before you quickly covered it up with your typical look of nonchalance. 

The people surrounding you whistled, still invested in the ongoing dare and what would turn out to be your inevitable downfall. There was still a sizable crowd amongst the dozens of other people pretending to be minding their own businesses. People you had known for years, people you had made fun of and chat shit about were relishing blatantly at your humiliation.

There was only one thing that you could do, and that was pretend to be as unaffected by the situation as possible. So, without another second of hesitation, you reached up underneath your skirt and pulled down your thong slowly as your eyes remained locked on Eren’s, both of your faces portraying zero emotion.

As you pulled your thong down your legs, you felt shame as your arousal clinged to it desperately and you knew that the minute you handed the fabric to him, he’d be able to see a glistening wetness. Your pussy had betrayed you, and now he was going to know exactly how you were responding to his degrading demands and humiliation.

Like he didn’t already know.

Still, you kept your face expressionless as though you weren’t ashamed and cringing and dying a little bit inside.

At the end of the day, there were still crowds of people around you, howling and praising your name for being so bold and hot.

Someone had to be reminding them of what they wanted but couldn’t have - yet there was a part inside of you that was worried the boys would begin to think of you as some common whore who’d have sex with anyone - including them.

You only had room for one worry at the moment, and at least they still somewhat respected you, even if it was just for now.

You twirled the small, black fabric around your finger with an alluring smirk on your face. “Are these what you want, Eren? You’re nothing but a perv.” You said, bending down to shove the panties against his chest before quickly standing back up again and sitting down on one of the other chairs, not wanting to be around him as much as you had to.

He held your thong in his hand and you stared at him in wait. He had immediately noticed the wet patch, and you were waiting patiently for him to announce it to the entire room, giving him a look of false encouragement by raising your eyebrows expectantly - but that moment never came. He simply stared back at you and winked, like it was your own little secret and you thanked him mentally for it as you let out a breath of relief.

Eren didn’t even try to hide how he shoved your thong into his pocket as he called out your name.

You rolled your eyes. Again? Could he not let you have just one break?

“Come and sit over here so I can keep my eye on you.” The girls beside him giggled and you wanted nothing more than to scream in the faces and rip their heads off but thankfully, you refrained. “Right in front of me, on your knees.”

Once again, you complied to his request, standing up and walking over to kneel down right in front of him, shooting him a look that said ‘are you happy, now?’ to which he just smirked and went back to talking to those two other girls.

He should have been the one on his knees. He should be on his knees, thanking you for giving him the time of day that he needed in order to get those girls’ attention. Before you, he was absolutely nothing - not a single girl on his shoulder. Now, because of you, he had two of them and yet it was you that was on your knees.

Without your thong, you felt exposed and anxious that soon you’d be able to feel your arousal dripping down your legs or that someone would be able to see your dripping pussy.

Your mind was spinning, so much so you couldn’t feel Eren’s hard eyes on you as the two girls he was with continued to speak to him like he was paying them any attention. He could see the way your eyes were moving around frantically, the way your legs were pressed together so tightly as you lay your hands in your lap and fidgeted with your fingers. He was concentrating so heavily on you that even over the sounds of chatter and music, he swore he could hear the change in pace of your breathing. 

Suddenly, your eyes connected with his. You were taken aback to find that he was already looking at you and if it embarrassed him that you caught him, his face didn’t show it. Neither of you broke the eye contact you held for a while, both too stubborn to be the first to lose. Instead, you just stood up and brushed your skirt down - claiming you needed to go to the bathroom.

His eyes narrowed at you suspiciously and you walked off as soon as you saw his lips part to respond, knowing it would only displease him.

You started pushing through the crowds of people, desperate to get to the bathroom as quickly as possible. You could feel your arousal dripping down your thighs and the way your skin felt hot with embarrassment at the idea of someone seeing. 

For some reason, you had only gotten more wet when you saw how Eren was staring at you and how he didn’t take his eyes off you even when you caught him. 

There were slight murmurs of your name followed by mocking laughs as you made your way to the bathroom but you couldn’t find it within yourself to care - the only thing on your mind was Eren.

You were so close, mere steps away from reaching the door handle and behind able to relieve yourself when all of a sudden you were being spun around and dragged away causing you to curse whoever was preventing you from relieving yourself from your torment. And of course, who else would it be apart from Eren?

You stared at his back as he walked with your wrist in his hand and you could tell he was pissed off at you - just from his grip and the way that he was walking alone.

The two of you stopped in the corner of a very compact area, there were people everywhere but that didn’t stop Eren from trapping you. Luckily enough, the people around you were either far too high or drunk to pay the two of you much attention as they messily grinded on one another and blew smoke around the room.

Eren forced your head to look in his direction by taking your face in his hand roughly.

There was a scowl adorned on his lips, yet, replacing the usual emptiness within his eyes was a spark that you hadn’t seen before and it made you question whether he had something planned.

His arm was caging you in and he peered down at you menacingly. “Care to explain?”

“I already told you.” you said, the corner the two of you were in was relatively quiet for a party so you hardly had to shout. There was also the fact you didn’t want to draw any attention to yourselves because you were already in a compromising position in front of all these people, you were just relieved they were too intoxicated to fully comprehend what was going on in the corner of their eyes. “I was going to the bathroom. Before you stopped me, that is. By the way, I’m blaming you if I piss myself in front of all these people.”

Whilst Eren may have let out a laugh, it was one that was devoid of any humour or enjoyment. He lowered his head and shook it slowly whilst he laughed and his grip on your chin with the hand that wasn’t confining you strengthened. “That’s funny because I don’t remember letting you.”

“And I don’t remember needing your permission.” You retorted, growing more vexed with every second that passed yet at the same time that throbbing feeling in between your legs came back as you stared at him intently, gauging his reaction. 

He dropped his hand from your face and lowered it down to your neck to which you instinctively gave him access by raising your chin. “We made a deal, didn’t we?” 

When you didn’t answer him, his clutch on your throat grew more intense causing your mouth to drop open in a mix of pain and pleasure. “Didn’t we?” Eren repeated.

“Y-yes, Eren.” Your voice was less than a whisper, too afraid you’d say the wrong thing. However, you appeared to have pleased him at least a bit as his grip loosened ever so slightly at your response making you sigh in relief.

“Good girl. Now tell me, did you actually need the bathroom? Or…” The hand on your throat once again left its place and made its way down your body and towards the space in between your legs and a single finger wiped some of the slick from your pussy earning a sigh from you as you let your head rest against the wall. Immediately, his hand was removed from your pussy and he brought it up to the space in between the two of you as he examined his finger carefully. His eyes were glued to how wet you were before they locked on yours. “...did you need to fix this little problem, hm?”

Your voice was failing you as you spewed out pathetic stutters of what was supposed to be denial of his accusation yet you both already knew the answer. In fact, he was only asking you to embarrass you. This entire thing, his only goal, was to crush you and leave you mortified - not even recognising yourself anymore. Still, you attempted to deny it nevertheless.

“No! Wh- why the fuck would I- I swear I just needed to go to the bathroom.” It couldn't have been less believable if you tried.

The fact that you even thought of lying to him was enough of a reason for him to punish you - in his eyes, anyway.

“Liar.” He spits, and his hand instantly goes back up to your throat as a way of letting you know that you had upset him. “Fine then. If you want to cum so badly, then touch yourself. Right here, right now. I want you to touch yourself.”

Your eyes went wide like you had seen a ghost, but in reality, this was much more shocking. Was he being serious? There’s no way he actually wanted you to touch yourself when there were so many people around, any of which could look in your direction and see the sinful act you would be committing.

That spark in his eyes. The same one you had noticed immediately once he turned to face you, it told you everything you needed to know.

He was really telling you to touch yourself. 

“What?” you exclaimed. Yet, you couldn’t lie, just the idea of any one of these people turning around to see your fingers plunged deep inside of you really turned you on.

“They won’t see you, not with me blocking you.” he reasoned, taking a step closer and further minimising the gap in between the two of you. 

“Still, Eren, that’s fucking crazy. There’s no way I’m doing that!” But, oh, you wanted to. Whilst your words were disapproving, you couldn’t help but think about how good it would feel to touch yourself in that moment, your clit was aching and begging for attention as a result of your neglect and your hole was desperate to be filled but no matter what, it was unreasonable to suggest doing something so vile.

Eren simply tutted at your resistance and shook his head like you were a child and he was inevitably going to get what he wanted no matter how many times you objected.

“The thing is, you’re going to do it anyway, aren’t you? You could have left ages ago, but you didn’t. So there’s no point in arguing when we both know you’re going to end up giving in - not because I want you to, but because you want to. Try and hide it all you want, I know what I’ve seen.”

You swallowed nervously and looked around to see if anybody was watching the two of you. Still, you stayed motionless, scared of the consequences yet knowing that nobody would see you with Eren blocking you from anybody’s line of sight.

“What is it then, hm?” He asked with a fake tone of comfort. “Do you need me to help you?”

The feeling of his hand wandering down your bare arm before taking your hand in his own sent shivers throughout your entire body. You didn’t resist his movements, truthfully, you welcomed them. He moved your hand to the space in between your legs and used it to caress the inside of your thighs before your hand reached your soaking cunt.

“Don’t make me do all the work, princess.” 

It was like you were starting to act based on just his words and his voice. You found yourself wanting nothing more than him, wanting nothing more than to please him so that maybe he’ll fuck you.

You slipped your fingers inside of you and bit your lip to hold back any noises you wanted to make. Your fingers started slowly moving in and out inside of you and Eren drew back his hand and placed both of them on your hips, using his body to shield your own from any prying eyes. 

“That’s a good girl, so obedient.”

A quiet noise slipped from your throat and Eren hushed you soothingly as his thumbs caressed your hips.

Your fingers began to speed up and curled slightly in order to reach that spot that you knew would bring you close to the edge. Taking your thumb, you started rubbing steady circles on your clit and because of the added stimulation, it didn’t take long until your fingers were thrusting themselves continuously in and out of your soaking pussy whilst your thumb’s motions picked up the pace. 

“Tell me when you’re about to cum, okay?” You nodded in response, not thinking twice about it.

You used your other hand to cover your mouth and stop yourself from drawing any attention in your direction.

Eren’s lips found themselves on your neck, leaving gentle pecks up the side of it. His kisses were light as a feather and fleeting - gone and moving to another spot before you could truly appreciate his lips.

“Eren, I-” you began, your voice muffled due to your hand being placed over your mouth.

“Speak clearly, princess. I can’t hear you.” His voice vibrated over your neck and you whined louder than you should have done - your eyes instantly bulging out of their sockets as you looked around the room frantically to see if anyone heard and only let yourself breathe when you were certain nobody had.

“‘M gonna cum, Eren–”

Within seconds, Eren’s lips were off your neck and your hand had been dragged away from your aching pussy. You couldn’t even process what had happened because your mind was far too hazy, so you simply stared at Eren in disbelief.

You could feel your orgasm fading away and tears creeping up into your eyes. “W-what? Why did you- I don’t understand-”

“It wouldn’t be much of a punishment if I let you cum, would it?” 

He smoothed out your skirt for you in a fake gesture of kindness before walking off from you and shouted back for you to follow him.

You, on the other hand, needed a drink. So, you chose to walk in the opposite direction and instead towards the kitchen. Noticing this, he rolled his eyes and followed you instead. He called out your name several times but you paid him no attention as you took a cup and poured some alcohol into it before bringing it to your lips.

However, his hand stopped you before you could raise the cup and chug back its contents.

Eren removed the cup from your hand and placed it on the kitchen counter. “There’s a reason I don’t want you drinking alcohol and why I directly told you that you can’t have any.”

Still, you refused to listen and picked the cup back up against his wishes before taking a sip. 

“You’re acting like a brat.” Eren was clearly getting riled up, evident by the annoyance in his tone. “You seriously want to get punished again after the last time?”

Wiping your mouth, you considered his words, but the overwhelming feeling of vexation with him because of him denying you your orgasm overshadowed any reason or rationality, so instead, you simply shrugged and giggled to yourself a bit - feeling far too proud with yourself.

“Do you know how much fun it would be, how much pleasure it would bring me, if I was to tell everyone about that little wet patch I found on your thong, hm?”

You were fuming. How dare he threaten you? You couldn’t risk him telling anyone else. Just him knowing was embarrassing enough. 

Eren got closer to you, so close to the point where your chest was pressed up against his, and his head was mere inches from your own. You felt yourself growing hot, and that all too familiar feeling of need between your legs was prominent once again, just from the simple proximity between the two of you as though just him being close to you was far too much for you to handle.

“See, this bratty attitude of yours is gonna have to stop. Remember that you’re doing this willingly, and if I have to punish you again for acting like a brat then I won't hesitate to.” He cupped your cheek and spoke so softly, like he was complimenting you instead of scolding and threatening you with punishments. “So, are you going to be a good girl for me? Are you going to obey me like we agreed you would do?”

You were really started to hate him. You hated the way he spoke down to you like he was better than you. You hate the way that his threats and his insults and his words had this irreversible effect on you and caused you to press your legs together so pathetically like you couldn’t control yourself. You hated how you wanted nothing more than for him to make good on his words and just fuck you already. Mostly, you hated how much you didn’t hate it and you hated how you actually felt more inclined to misbehave than be good for him because even though it felt so good when he praised you, it also felt incredible when he punished you.

You looked inside your cup, checking out what was left of the drink - after seeing there wasn’t too much left, you took the cup and chucked everything inside of it at Eren before slamming it down on the kitchen island and tilting your head at him waiting for his reaction.

That, he hadn’t seen coming. He wasn’t expecting quick compliance out of you, but he assumed that after him preventing your orgasm you would at least show a little restraint. He had stumbled back a bit, shocked by your retaliation.

There was people surrounding the two of you now, vocalising their interest and edging Eren on to do something about it - he would, just not in front of them.

Lifting up his shirt, he wiped what had gotten on his face off before giving you a dead look and taking your arm in his hold and walking out of the kitchen. The people that were watching expectantly voiced their disappointment before going back to what they were doing.

You stumbled throughout the halls, people shooting the two of you odd looks as you followed him reluctantly - his grip on your arm merciless and all of a sudden you were actually aware of what you had just done. 

Eren opened the door to one of the many bedrooms and shoved you inside of it before swiftly shutting the door and locking it, his head hanging low whilst he faced the door and a brief silence fogging up the room, suffocating you.

You stood in the middle of the room, watching his back. You wanted to go up to him and apologise but you couldn’t find the courage to approach him. 

As he turned around, you noticed how his eyes looked dark and displeased, like you had really disappointed him this time and like it was his final straw in dealing with you. 

“You think that shit was cute, princess? ‘Cause I’m really not happy with you.”

“Look, Eren, I- I was just-”

The sound of his footsteps cut you off as he began walking over to you.

Without warning, he slapped your cheek causing the sound to reverberate around the room and the inevitable silence that stung your ears afterwards. You were no longer looking at him, your head tilted to the side and you resisted that prominent urge to press your legs together.

He cupped the cheek that he slapped and caressed it harshly. “Your safe word is red, do you understand.”

Giving him a clear nod, he took the initiative to pull you over to the bed that sat in the middle room before he took a seat and pulled you over his lap so that your ass was up in the air. He placed something on the bedside table, but you didn’t see what it was. Pulling up your skirt, he caressed the fat of your ass gently.

He sighed, shaking his head. “I was really starting to think that you were beginning to behave as well.”

The sound of a painful slap across your ass rang in your ears as you winced, gripping the sheets.

“I said I was sorry, Eren-”

“You think that’s fucking good enough?” Another slap, this time to your other cheek before he returned back to the other and slapped it a few more times. “You did a very bad thing, princess. I didn’t think you had it in you anymore after your last punishment but it turns out just edging you isn’t enough to help you learn.”

Eren’s palm slapped your ass with a sound that could be heard from the hallway if there wasn’t still music blasting throughout the halls. You sucked in a breath and your grip tightened on the bed’s covers as you waited for the next swat to come, and then the next and the one after that one as well - along with all the smacks that came after that.

Your skin was stinging and hot and it seemed like Eren was hell-bent on breaking you and peering through the cracks of your life with the sheer strength he was putting into every individual slap. 

And yet, for whatever sick and twisted reason that had derived from the most wicked parts of your mind, you were moaning and wriggling in his hold in a desperate attempt for friction against your aching cunt. You were finding pleasure in the pain he brought upon you no matter how much it stung and you wanted to cry.

You tried to squirm away as they got harder but it would always result in him somehow making the next harder than the last so you stopped trying.

“C’mon princess, take your punishment like a good little girl. You’re not leaving until you’ve learned your lesson so stay put.”

Letting out a low cry of pain, you tried to move your head up in an attempt to get away slightly yet he just brought his free hand to your head and held it down roughly. 

“Don’t tell me I’ve smacked all the sense out of you, princess? What did I just fucking say, huh?”

His words and his force - it was all far too much but equally just what you had been needing. There was something about letting go and not having the control that you so desperately yearned for that was so freeing - and now, with your head pinned and Eren ruthlessly smacking your ass, you had no choice but to submit to his cruelty and relish in the feeling of being used.

Slowly, he moved his hand to reach to the side of your face before tapping your lips in a way that asked for your permission to open up - to which, of course, you complied.

“Just a couple more, princess. Okay?” It had been a while by this point, your face was soaked with tears and your thighs were drenched in your own fluids. Your ass was red hot and growing hotter with every spank. “Just need you to tell me how sorry you are, otherwise I wont know if I can trust you to be good.”

Instantly, you replied - flooding his ears with sobbing pleas and continuous sorrys. He smirked and stopped his merciless attack on your ass before stroking the skin softly and affectionately. He lifted you up so that you sat on his lap and you winced slightly, resulting in a cunning grin forming on Eren’s lips.

You hadn’t been this wet all night, if Eren didn’t fuck you right now you thought you would lose your mind.

“Eren, I want you to fuck me.”

Raising an eyebrow at you, he sat you down next to him before standing up and looming over you - taking your cheek in his hand and forcing you to look up at him. “I don’t know about that.”

“I’ve waited all night, you can’t just-” 

“Yes I can.” He cut you off harshly and you stopped your sentence abruptly. He sighed like you were inconveniencing him. “I tell you what, if you beg me right now to fuck you - I will.”

You had already lost so much of your pride - you couldn’t lose anymore. He had gotten everything he wanted yet for some reason, after a single taste of greed, he wanted more. 

“I’m not going to beg you, Eren. You’ve gotten everything from me tonight - nobody is ever going to look at me the same again thanks to you. Isn’t that what you wanted? Now, you’ve ruined my reputation, the least you can do is fuck me hard enought that I forget about it.”

Eren’s features portrayed nothing other than irritation. He squeezed your chin tightly and you whimpered almost silently. “Who the fuck are you to be ordering me around? Either, you beg, or I leave. It’s entirely up to you, princess.”

You wanted it so bad. Nobody had ever made you feel the way Eren did. Nobody had ever crossed as many lines and tested you so much in a way that actually turned you on. He hadn’t even touched your pussy, yet you already know he know’s how to please it like he’d been fucking you for years.

But, at the end of the day, you couldn’t risk more than you had. You could spend the rest of your life daydreaming about how good Eren’s dick would feel pounding into you as you sat comfortably knowing you had manage to salvage whatever was left of your crumbling social status and build it back up again - or you could beg him to fuck you right now, and he would tell everyone about what a filthy slut you are who’s just desperate for his cock and your entire life would be in shambles. Who knows, maybe he wouldn’t even fuck you after you begged.

Taking your silence as an answer, Eren hums, before turning back around to unlock the door and reached for the handle.

Or maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he’d fuck you, and the two of you would then go about the rest of your lives peacefully knowing you didn’t turn down what would be the best sex of your life.

You craved him - it was Eren that freed every single one of your deepest and darkest fantasies from their cage and let you fulfill them. You needed him to.

“Wait.”

You had moved so swiftly from your seat and now your hand was covering his on the door handle. He didn’t turn to face you, he just waited for you to speak.

The feeling of your hand dragging itself down his body snapped him out of his stubbornness and made him turn to see what you were doing - only to be met with the sight of you on your knees as you parted your lips to speak.

“Please, Eren. I need you so fucking badly, please, I need you to use me and slap me around and hurt me because it feels so good. Nobody’s made me feel this fucking good before and I don’t understand why but I need you to help me Eren because I can’t take it. I can’t take it anymore, I need you so badly it hurts. Please. Please make me feel good, Eren. Please.” Your voice was laced with a tone of pathetic desperation that made Eren’s dick twitch in his pants.

Turning around fully, he looked down at the sight of your hands clawing at his pants as you looked up at him with pleading eyes. 

“Show me.” Eren demanded, his voice somehow lower than ever.

Without thinking twice, you began to unbuckle his belt and tugged down his pants - freeing his cock that was growing harder and more distressed with every second.

Shit - he was big. Bigger than you thought. Of course, you could kind of feel him when he was pressed up against you earlier or when you were bent over his lap - but you hadn’t imagined it was this large. Eren was amused by how impressed you seemed, but chose not to express it.

You started off by stroking the length slowly and kissing the tip before taking it in your mouth.

Eren hissed at the contact, his hand immediately moving to rest on top of your head. Already, you can hardly get enough of the addictive taste of his dick against your tongue and the way it’s drooling with precum.

He’s gritting his teeth, trying to stop himself from making too much noise and boosting your ego.

Yet, when his spongy tip hits the back of your throat he can’t help the groan that slips from his lips whilst your own are sucking him so perfectly - your tongue expertly moving around his length.

You bob your head up and down somewhat slowly, his dick being simply too hard to adjust to so quickly. 

Your soft, warm tongue was stroking his dick so nicely it was driving him insane, and as much as he could do this forever - there was only so much time before people began to get kicked out of the house and told to go home, and whilst Eren had no idea what the time was, he’d hate himself forever if he let this opportunity slip past his fingers.

The longer he was waiting for you to pick up your pace and quit teasing, the more impatient he was growing. He knew damn well what your mouth was capable of, but apparently no matter how much you ran it and how big that mouth of yours could be - his dick was far too much for it.

Eren considered it a gesture of helpfulness when he grabbed the back of your head and started thrusting viciously in and out of your mouth - the tip bulling the back of your throat as you gagged and choked yet showed no sign of resistance.

Theres saliva travelling down your chin and your slobbering all over his cock - it’s all so messy but none of that is on your mind. The only thing you can think of is showing him how much you need him. He makes you so pathetic that you’re shocked the mean bitch you were just a couple of hours ago ever even existed.

So pathetic, that when he moves his foot directly underneath him, you can’t help the overwhelming urge to grind down on his boot. You knew it was risky, you knew that there was a chance it would displease him but you could never stop yourself from acting without thinking things through properly. However, realistically, how were you supposed to think about anything when he was fucking every thought right out of your brain. 

You hoped that he was so consumed by his own pleasure that he wouldn’t have a problem with it - or preferably, that he wouldn’t even notice. Nevertheless, you grinded yourself down against his boot and moaned - the sound muffled by his cock yet the vibrations caused him to groan and his grip on your head grew harder.

It felt so good, the way your hips were dragging your pussy against his boot and giving you the stimulation you had been needing the entire night.

Your hands are gripping at his thighs for some sense of stability as you try to balance yourself whilst he fucks your throat raw and without any regard for yourself - his balls hitting your chin.

Sounds of gurgling and sucking dominated the entire room. It was all so lewd, from the noises the two of you were making to the fact that your hair was becoming a mess and you were drooling dumbly.

“Fuck- you’re such a slut, aren’t you? Doing all of this just so you can get dicked down - so fucking pathetic. I should have expected it from you.”

There are hot tears streaming down your cheeks but you aren’t anywhere near upset. Your makeup is no longer in tact, mascara painting your cheeks.

You can feel all of your senses going practically numb as he fucks them all out of you. You’re struggling to breathe but you’re entirely okay with it - you can barely even moan properly and you can feel the way he’s silently mocking you for it as he continues his brutal pace in your mouth.

Eren is entirely consumed by the pleasure - letting it take over him completely as he mutters out curses and groans deeply whilst keeping a tight grip on your head. He’s losing his mind from the delicious feeling of your mouth taking him so well.

However, he pulls out, evidently not wanting to finish just yet and theres a spark of hope within you that it means he’s convinced and that he’s going to fuck you.

“Shit- that was fuckin’ amazing, princess. Gonna cum all down your throat, next time.”

Next time? Your eyes widened and your heart clenched in excitement at the prospect of there being a next time.

Eren tucks himself back into his pants, that spark of hope dying a bit. He walks over to the bedside table where he placed something before. When he carried it back over to you, you recognised that it was a bottle of beer.

“You want a drink, sweet girl?”

You looked up immediately, wiping the drool of your chin, to see him swirling around the beer in the bottle. “Please…”

Eren smirked in satisfaction as he kneeled down to your level and took your chin in his hand. You tried to reach up for the bottle, but he moved it out of your reach whilst tutting disappointedly.

“Open wide.”

He poured the liquid into your mouth from high above your head, resulting in only some of it going into your mouth as you eagerly took as much as you could while a fraction of it dribbled down your chin and spilled down your breasts. 

He took the bottle away and brought his thumb up to wipe away some of the beer on your chin before slipping it into his own mouth and winking at you.

As he looked down at you, he noticed a wet spot on one of his boots and he raised an eyebrow at you. Shamefully, you turned away.

“Fuck, princess, that fuckin’ desperate are we?” he laughed, yet you couldn’t see the humour in it and there was a slight pout on your lips which was soon wiped away.

That singular spark of hope from before sets ablaze once he picks you up and tosses you on the bed in an instant - removing your shoes and starting on your fishnets and skirt.

Flipping you over so that your back is to him, he rips the wings from your back. “Your no angel, princess, I’ll tell you that.”

You could feel his voice against your neck before he started to suck and bite your neck.

He lifted up your top over your head so that you were now bare in front of him.

His hands were roaming everywhere yet his lips stayed on your neck as he kissed and bit your neck in a possessive manner - as though he was letting the entire world that you belonged to someone - that you weren’t just a slut, you were Eren’s slut.

To your dismay, he stood up from the bed. You turned yourself over to see what he was doing only to find yourself confused when he was rummaging through whoever’s wardrobe it belonged to.

Closing the wardrobe door, he turned to face you with a tie in his hand. Biting your lip, you tilted your head up at him in surprise. Laughing, you asked, “You really gonna tie me up with some stranger’s tie and then fuck me in their bed? And I’m the dirty slut.”

Eren laughed along with you, kneeling in front of you on the bed and forcing you to backup towards the headboard. “They won’t know.”

Taking your hands in a delicate grip, he tied them both together to the metal headboard. The knot was tight, so tight you figured you’d have a lot of trouble ever trying to get out of them without Eren’s help.

His lips hovered over yours for the first time before he pressed them together and plunged his tongue into your mouth - kissing you roughly.

He tasted incredible and his lips were so soft. For the first time, he was being properly gentle with you and he had no clue why.

This entire thing began as a revenge fantasy, so why was he all of a sudden feeling the need to handle you like you were glass. 

One of his hands slipped between your legs and began to play with your soaking pussy. “Shit, princess. So wet.” 

“I need you now, Eren.” You muttered against his lips, snapping him out of whatever daze your lips had put him in.

Bringing his hand back up, he quickly sucked the wetness from your pussy off his fingers and almost groaned at the taste.

Now, he was eager to be inside of you - longing for the feeling of your wet walls hugging his dick so tightly like he knew they would.

“Shit, princess. You think you can take me?” He mocked, a huge smirk plastered on his face and though typically you would have wanted to smack it right off, in that moment, all you could do was whine as you bucked your hips up needily.

He was practically folding your legs like a chair. Both of them rested on his shoulders as he leaned down to kiss your lips before pushing his rock hard cock inside of you. In sync, the two of you moaned at the sensation - and thought that initial pain from the stretch was apparent, so was the feeling of every single one of his veins and the slight curve of his dick.

Once he was fully in, he let you adjust for a moment as the two of you stayed in silence. Eren continued marking your throat as a form of restraining himself from pounding into you ferociously. 

Gradually, he started to slowly move in and out of you - and soon enough his cock was brutally hitting that spot within you that had you gasping and seeing stars.

His lips trailed down to your chest and took one of your nipples into his mouth, twirling his tongue around it as he pistoned his cock into your throbbing cunt.

He was fucking you so roughly that all you could do was lay there and moan loudly - completely unaware of anything other than how his dick was making you feel.

Eren was mesmorised by the feeling of your walls squeezing him so tightly and deciding that he needed to see it. Removing his mouth from your nipple, he sat up and used his hands to keep both of your legs up as he watched the way your pussy hugged him so tightly, refusing to let him go.

“Should have know that all it would take was a bit of dick to get you this obedient and good. A bitch like you just needs some dick to put her in her place, ain’t that right, princess?”

His words were hardly registering in your mind, but just the sound of his voice had you whining and your pussy tightening around his dick, desperate for more.

You could feel every inch of his dick pounding into you and dragging ruthlessly against your walls, causing you to gasp and choke on your own moans.

With all of your effort, you took a deep breath before sputtering out a request. “Wanna- t-touch you, ‘ren, please-!”

He paused his bruising thrusts, and with such a speed you had never seen before undid the knot of the tie without any questions - he simply just did as you had asked like he needed you to touch him as well before going back to pummeling his cock in and out of you.

Your hands went to grasp at his back, clawing at the flesh in an attempt to seize some sort of control. Your fingernails were leaving scratched in their places as they dragged down his back which only had Eren groaning at the painful feeling as he picked up his pace and somehow went impossibly faster and more rough.

“Such a whore, and all for me as well. Nobody else gets to see you like this, not anymore. You’re all mine now, princess. Do you hear me?”

You nodded frantically in response, unable to form any coherent words other than curses and chants of his name. 

The idea of being just his brought you so close to your orgasm. The idea of being able to have his dick inside of you, making you feel this good, whenever you wanted and all you had to do was just be a bit of a brat (which you were amazing at).

Noticing that you were getting closer, due to the fact that your pussy was only getting tighter around his dick and he didn’t think he’d be able to hold on much longer, his hand reached down to play with your pulsating clit in hopes that you’d be able to finish with him. He kissed your face and your lips and stared at you with adoration filling his eyes.

Everything was becoming so much. You were filled to the brim with Eren’s large dick, and the way his skillful fingers were toying with you so effortlessly despite how clouded he was with pleasure made you feel incredible.

“I’m g’nna fill you up with my cum. Shit, I need to see this pussy full with my cum, is that okay, princess?”

You let out a noise of approval as you nodded which was all Eren needed before he finished inside of you and the feeling along with the knowledge of how it was you that he was finishing inside of caused you to reach your high as well.

Eren continued to thrust his dick in and out of you through both of your orgasms as you came in sync. His lips found yours - completely infatuated with the way your lips felt against his and the way you tasted on his tongue.

When Eren pulled out, he was enthralled by the sight of his cum spilling out of your hot pussy as he smirked and used one of his fingers to push what he could back inside of you.

“God, you’re so fucking hot, princess. I’m fuckin’ keeping you, do you hear me? No more of that dare shit - you’re mine permanantly.”

Breathlessly, you replied. “‘M all yours, Eren. Just fuck me like that more often, okay?”

note: it's almost 2am, the ending is rushed and I have college in the morning so i apologise if there are any mistakes. i needed to get this out before I drove myself insane.

[honeipie]

little rant on the mha boys and relationships.

authors note: this was spontaneous word vomit that i needed to get off my chest. shoto's turned into a whole fic and i struggled writing for him the most omg..

boys included: izuku midoryia, katsuki bakugo, shoto todoroki

izuku midoryia

ouuu my baby.. first off, his love languages are words of affirmation and acts of service. we all know this boy goes leaps and bounds for people he barely knows. that’s what makes him such a great hero. after watching i just get the feeling that it would take the longest for him to get into a relationship. i’m thinking late twenty’s or early thirties. he watches as his colleagues and friends start to grow their families. getting married and having babies, while he sits back silently wishing that was him. he had so much going on in his life from after the war to becoming the number one hero that he simply lost track of time. it wasn’t his own doing that pushed him to start dating but his friends (mostly kirishima and mina). they tested the theory out first of course. inviting everybody over their house for a get together. the two made sure they got the chance to subtly corner the green haired man.

—

“hey izuku! would you mind holding rumi for a second? thanks!” mina placed the baby in the man’s hands making him a bit startled.

“oh! sure” they both stepped a few paces back into another group to analyze his behavior. it took a few moments but then they saw it. a genuine smile and sparkle in his eye that they hadn’t seen in a while. izuku was tickling the baby’s stomach emitting giggles that made him feel somewhat accomplished. kirishima came back up to him slapping his hand on the back of his shoulder.

“man you’re a natural! why aren’t you dating around? finding your person? clearly you wanna be a dad. do you want to adopt on your own maybe?” kirishima took the baby from a sheepish izuku.

“no, i definitely would want to get married first. but you know how hard it is to date when you’re a hero. you guys are lucky you have each other though. i just don’t want to put that person in danger, or have them just like me because i’m famous of have money. plus, they’d need to be ready to have a family right away.. not that i’d force them or anything! it’s just we’re getting older and-“

mina placed a hand on his shoulder “we get it! i think i know someone that i can set you up with”

—

now let’s say you and izuku hit it off, get into a relationship. this man needs someone who can pour back into him. someone who reminds him that it’s okay to feel overwhelmed from the kind of job he has. someone who tells him it’s okay to cry when it’s just the two of you. someone who’ll let him be izuku midoryia instead of the amazing, unbreakable deku.

he spends all day helping and doing things for others. when he gets home he’s absolutely exhausted. sorry for you independent working ladies but i think he needs someone who’s willing to take care of the house when he’s not around. someone who lets him come home to the warm meals and fresh sheets on the bed.

not that he’s lazy in the relationship or anything! this man will literally do anything to make you happy. on days he’s off or if you had a hard day at work (if you wanna), he’ll help with the cooking and other chores. it’s just for the most part he wears himself thin because of his job. so yeah, he wouldn’t mind someone who already has his dinner on the table when he gets home and gives his shoulder kisses as you two bathe and tell him how resilient he is.

as for kids? yeah get ready, this man wants at least four. plus like he said at this point you’re both getting older so he doesn’t care how yall become parents. whether you’re willing to have some kids, or if you’d rather foster/adopt! all he knows is that he wants to be a dad for sure.

izuku midoryia’s biggest red flag is just not telling you when he’s not feeling himself so you have to deeply analyze him to understand whenever he’s feeling upset. you have to start most of the communication, but when he gets into the groove he lets you know everything that’s going wrong.

katsuki bakugo

this motherfucker.

jk i love him! he just needs somebody that can match his energy in some moments, and be the calm in the storm in another. in short he needs someone with balance.

he would get into a relationship maybe early or mid-twenty’s i would say. i honestly think his love languages are everything but words of affirmation. just the non-verbal stuff. he would be the type to fall in love with someone in a work related context (more specifically his personal assistant). he always thought you were pretty, but if you think this man is going to tell you that you’re fucking delusional. in fact, he goes out of his way to be the sassiest man alive to you until you finally get tired of it. he had said some shit about you getting to his office faster because you were only one floor down.

—

“do you ever get tired of hearing your mouth? because i do” you placed papers down on his desk before turning around “you have a meeting in twenty minutes. the car will be here in five. wouldn’t want you to be late cause i know how busy the elevator gets” the slam of his office door got the gears in his head turning.

ooh, he likes youuu.

the next day, you took the elevator up to his floor but noticed some construction down the hall. you almost jumped when he appeared next to you.

“‘ts your new office. so you won’t have to take the shitty elevator anymore” you gave him a silent nod which acted as your thank you.

—

when you two started dating it’s pretty nice. y’all’s favorite pastime would have to be people watching. you sit outside of a coffee shop with baseball caps and sunglasses on talking about anything or anyone that’s interesting enough to bring up. when the press finally figures you two out all you do is find another shop and do the same thing.

now it's more of the opposite with katsuki than izuku. he loves that you keep yourself occupied with a job and will do anything to support you on any career goals you have. though if you do want to stay home he'll support that too. katsuki is going to need somebody who sticks with him through his good, his bad, and his mf ugly. someone who is able to know when to give him the space he needs. the love that he likely needs to receive the most is physical touch and words of affirmation, and it's really good if you do both at the same time. i think the most effective on him would strangely be the little doses. like a small squeeze to his hand and just saying "i'm so proud of you" or "you're my number one hero" would make him feral.

time for katsuki's red flag. he would absolutely put his job before you! just because he's in a serious relationship doesn't mean that he still doesn't want to be number one. and if you want kids that's going to be tricky. now here's the thing.. katsuki wouldn't mind having one or two kids, really, but you see right through him. he already cancels on a lot of your dates, and makes up for them eventually, so you get over it. but if you had kids you don't really know how it would affect them. you knew that he would support you at first, taking time off for maternity leave, but after that then what? kids wouldn't understand why he was choosing the world over his own flesh and blood. so you mightt just have to wait until he matures a bit more to have that conversation.

shoto todoroki

i had to work myself up to write him cause wheeewww. where do i start? to get into a relationship with this man you gotta be in it for the LONG RUN. not because of his job or anything, just because he's him. yeah, he's maturing beautifully as he goes through life but baby he still don't know what a real relationship consists of. his love languages gift giving and quality time. i think really heavy on the quality time because he never really got to spend time with the people he loved when he was younger so he makes sure to cherish those moments now. i couldn't tell you when specifically, because it'll just happen on one random day.

honestly, my best guess is that he would fall for someone he sees everyday while doing one part of his routine. for instance, he has his own personal gym, but he’s grown to like running in the park better than his treadmill. that's where he sees you for the first time walking your dog. you'll both smile politely as you pass one another every day. this goes on for about a month until you start to not show up for about a week.

—

after one of the hero meetings shoto decides to bring it up with izuku "there's this girl i see when i run, and i haven't seen her in a whole week. it's strange, but i'm kind of upset when i don't get to see her"

izuku smiled hearing shoto finally talk about someone he’s interested in "you've got a hallway crush!"

shoto scrunched his face in confusion "izuku, i run at the park near my house"

"no, that's not what i meant! it's just another saying for a crush on someone that you just see but don't really talk to" izuku tilted his head one finger on his chin "do you want to talk to her?"

shoto thought about it for a moment "yes, i think i do"

"i can help if you want!-"

"hah!?" katsuki's voice boomed throughout the room. as always, he had been listening into their conversation "you wouldn't know how to talk to a woman even if someone gave you cue cards!"

"kacchan, once again, nobody was talking to you"

"that's what i would say to you about women" he got up with a tsk "text me when y'all are going out for a run. i want to see this trainwreck live and in color"

so that's what they did. the next morning they all joined shoto for his morning jog. he kept an eye out until he saw you. he stopped right in his tracks causing katsuki to run right into his back.

"watch where you're going you icy hot bastard!" he yelled but shoto paid him no mind.

"there she is" he mumbled, watching as you unclipped your dogs leash.

"okay first off don't fucking stare at her you weirdo" katsuki grabbed his shoulder turning him away with izuku nodding in agreement.

"maybe you can compliment her dog!" izuku suggested but katsuki shook his head.

"nah, go for the shoes. chicks love shoes"

right as they started bickering shoto felt something jump up on his leg. he turned to see your dog had run up to him in an excited manor.

"bruiser!" you yelled out chasing after him. once you got ahold of him you smiled up at the pro hero "i am so so sorry about that. i thought he was finally ready to be let off the leash but i was wrong" you tried to stop your racing heartbeat. not only from the running, but maybe from the fact that the top three heroes were standing right in front of you.

"i like your dogs shoes" shoto blurted making both katsuki and izuku curse under their breath “and im glad you’re fine. i haven’t seen you for a week so i was starting to get worried”

"you noticed? i was on vacation. and i like yours.. too?" you said going to latch the leash back onto your dog's harness.

"thank you, but i don't have a dog" shoto stated rather bluntly making you chuckle.

"right, my mistake"

the two of you got into conversation rather easily forcing the other two to talk on the side. the only reason they were still there was to make sure shoto didn't fumble the bag "i like your dog's name"

"ah, thank you! i named him after the dog from legally blonde. have you ever seen that movie?"

"no, but it must be good if you named your dog after a character"

"yeah it is! i think they're actually playing it at this drive-in movie theater tomorrow. i was thinking about going"

the two men had subtly made their way behind you. as soon as you said that they both perked up making exaggerated motions.

'go with her!'

‘ask her out dumbass!'

shoto squinted his eyes trying to decipher what it is they were saying. when he finally got it he nodded looking back at you "i would like to take you there tomorrow on an official date"

your mouth slowly opened at his boldness before pointing to yourself "me? are you sure?"

"yes, i think you are very pretty and i like seeing your face every day when i run"

'o-okay then. i'll see you tomorrow"

right before you could leave izuku and katsuki dramatically held up their phones.

"oh right. can i take your phone?"

"are we going to have to go on this fucking date with him?" katsuki mumbled turning to izuku.

"might be a possibility"

—

i feel like once this man finally starts to get the grasp of what a relationship is truly about he gives in that he is head over heels in LOVEEEE. he doesn't care what you do, honestly. working? cool he's showing up there once or twice just to make sure you’re okay. wanna stay at home? the best part of his day is coming home to his true love and seeing what they made for dinner.

for the topic of kids he's so insecure about it at first. not wanting to end up like his father of course. but if you give him enough reassurance and time then after you have your first kid he knows he wants more.

shoto's red flag could easily be that he's emotionally unavailable but hear me out. at the end of the day he still grew up in the todoroki household and might've picked up some traits that aren't the best. we all know this man is blunt so he has no problem dropping snarky comments like "you gained weight" or "i don't really like your hair like that" and i don't even think he means to be rude most of the time?? homeboy just says what he thinks. though if it's really getting to you and you bring it up to him he will 100% start to think before he speaks.

[partycatty]

giggling at this idea i just thought of but would u consider... hear me out... mk1 johnny finding out that reader has a body pillow of him? like those anime ones but bcs he's a celebrity, someone made one of him too 💀 & reader secretly bought it and tried to hide it/deny it but johnny sees all fr fr

i wrote this and then it got DELETED i almost cried

johnny cage > superfan

johnny never visited your place, but now he sees why.

notes: the way i used to unironically have a bodypillow of a character i'd rather die than admit... this hits so close to home

[ masterlist ]

you and johnny were an unlikely pair in the grand scheme of things. you were a toned down worker in your own field while his face was plastered on every billboard, magazine, and teenage girl's home screens. at the end of the day, though, you were both humans in love and that's all that genuinely mattered.

johnny's arm that was slung around you as you two cuddled on his couch shakes you back to reality.

"you know what's funny?" he suddenly brings up, closing the tiktoks you were watching together. "we always come to my place. never yours. i've only ever seen the inside when i pick you up."

there wasn't a hint of annoyance or accusatory language in his voice; he was curious. as he typically is.

"i don't know," you shrug nonchalantly, hoping to get the topic over with. "your place is nicer." this was entirely true. despite downsizing after his divorce and other events he has yet to disclose to you, he still had a truly nice home. it radiated the energy of a celebrity without needing the size, but was just homey enough for you to spend your nights there when you felt like it.

"so?" his eyebrow quirks up.

"so, it's better to hang out here. my apartment isn't all that exciting, not a lot of room to do much."

"but it's the person that excites me," he replies quickly, kissing your forehead. "plus, all we usually do is sit on my couch here. what's the difference of doing it there?"

as your mouth opens and closes to try and dismiss the subject, johnny turns to face you completely with a beaming grin.

"can i come over tomorrow?" he asks, like it's your first date with him. his eyes are bright, like a kid asking for permission from his mother. you couldn't even bring yourself to look him in the eyes as you swallow hard. there wasn't necessarily a true reason to not have him over, but preparing for his arrival would take a considerable amount of effort to... redecorate. finally, you nod with a sheepish smile, and johnny plants a slap-like kiss to your lips as a thank you.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

the following morning, you were throwing your piles and piles of collectibles into boxes and shoving them into your closet. the replica of his brass knuckles or figurines of ninja mime had to go before he arrived. johnny couldn't know that on top of being his girlfriend, you were a fan. and not just any fan, a superfan. every piece of evidence had to be thrown into a corner lest you face his endless prodding and teasing. besides, even if he was a celebrity, he probably didn't expect his partner to have such belongings. it felt... wrong. but even still, you couldn't help but support him in his works!

a knock at the door makes you visibly jump as you're kicking the last of the merch under your couch. wiping your hands, you race to the front door and take a deep breath, making sure you plugged in your wall scents and lit your candles. you swing it open and johnny peeks his head in, glancing around with his typical grin. he puts his sunglasses atop his head to adjust to the indoor lighting, a curious glint in his eye.

"i don't know what you were talking about," johnny finally says, hands on his hips. "it's nice here. quaint."

"i think that's just calling me poor politely," you reply as you fight a smirk. johnny tenses up, already apologetic before you reach up to kiss his check. "i'm teasing, dear. now what?"

"a movie?"

"not one of yours."

"we didn't even finish citizen cage last time!"

you roll your eyes at his puppy-like stare. you immediately cave in with a huff. as his own version of a thank you, johnny swoops over and picks you up, sure to support your ass more than your thighs as they wrap around his waist. he shoots you a devious grin, as if to say "i can't help it!"

you're playfully tossed onto the couch, and you have just enough time to chuck a throw pillow in his direction as he heads toward your bedroom.

"i'm stealing your comforter," he announces. "since i don't see a regular blanket around here." you gulp, remembering your johnny cage themed throw blanket that once laid on that very couch. thankfully, it's buried under your other laundry.

"not everyone has blankets for every occasion!" you shout back, settling into your new spot and allocating space for his large body. that is, until you hear eruptive laughter come from your room. of course it was johnny, but the laugh was so hysterical, so out of character, you partially wondered if he had gotten possessed. "babe?" as you're about to rise from your spot, johnny responds in an unusually high pitched voice, strained from the cackling.

"why do you have this?!" his grin is audible, dripping from his upward inflection. your stomach drops, but you try to play dumb in case it's not what you expect.

"have what?" your voice is low, unwilling to give anything away. your question is answered when johnny emerges from the hallway, holding up your dakimakura with one hand, slung around its painted shoulder.

your face heats up in record time. it's a drawing - a realistic one - of johnny, laying down. the other side features the same, except blushing and only in boxers. you must have forgot to fully hide it, and left it on your bed like a fool. and what a fool you were for thinking a simple blanket would conceal it. times like these you wish you could afford a throw blanket to bury yourself in it and hope he'd go away.

"if you wanted me in your bed, you could've just asked," he giggles to himself, admiring the possession. "hey, at least they got my features right."

"please put that away before i die of embarrassment," you quietly beg, voice muffled by your head in your hands.

"really though, doll," johnny's smile doesn't disappear, just lessens. "why, of all things, do you own a bodypillow of me?"

"it was limited edition," you mutter. "the artist put it on sale."

"limited edition? you're a collector?"

shit. you sold yourself.

"maybe."

"collector of what?"

"...paraphernalia."

"i could deduce that. i won't judge you, honey." he kneels down to meet your level, putting his hands on your knees as he sets the pillow down beside you.

"i, uh... i collect things. related to you." johnny's face freezes, lip twitching in amusement as you continue to defend yourself. "i'm not weird about it, though."

"except for the pillow."

"50% went to charity!"

"touché. don't worry about it, sugar," johnny kisses your forehead. "there are worse things to collect. if anything, you're pretty lucky to have a famous boyfriend. lots of stuff to collect. you want one of my shirts? i'll sign it for you—"

"enough, enough," you giggle, swatting your hands at nothing. "this is already mortifying for me. you should see the rest—" you stop in your tracks, smile dropping in an instant.

"there's more?" as he asks, you two stare at each other in disbelief. and before you could react, he darts off to your bedroom, pushing himself off of the wall as he nearly runs into it. you shout-laugh as you follow after him.

"JOHNNY!" as you turn the corner to stand in your bedroom doorway, johnny charges at you and slings you over his shoulder. all you can do is half-resist his grip as he swings your closet door open. your legs kick against his body, and you're slapping his back. "DON'T LOOK!!"

"i can't not look!" he protests, patting your ass playfully. his hand falls to his hip as he inspects your crammed closet just as his grin widens once more. "is that a life-size ninja mime cutout?"

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Yandere Coworker (part 12)

Thank you @i---believe---in---pink for commissioning this chapter.

(2041 words)

Tw: afab reader, reader is pretty mean to Cyprus, Cyprus becoming angry and yelling at reader

Please vote on the poll down below

Masterlists (+commission info), part 1, part 13

You rubbed your eyes with the back of your hand, Cyprus must have thought you were doing that excessively, as he would grab your wrist and pull it away from your face. He gave you a look from the corner of his eyes before returning his attention to the road.

You slumped in your seat, resting your cheek on the seatbelt. Cyprus's hand would find its way back to your thigh, where he would knead and squeeze them as much as he liked. You simply stared at it, because it would always return no matter how much you slapped it away.

You brought your chin up and looked forward. This farmer's market must be far, all you could see is a long strip of asphalt and grass around the car. The sun was shining bright and the air was silent, he refused to turn the radio on or play some music, because he wanted you to talk to him. Cyprus wanted a conversation, to connect with you better by sharing things about each other. But you're just not interested, you wanted to go home and catch up with sleep. Having Cyprus in your life is such a curse, everything was thrown off balance and he kept bullying you. Plus, he kept your phone away, and you're forced to simmer in reality.

"What's your zodiac sign?" He asked, resting his hand on your thigh.

You shrugged. Claiming not to be interested in it just so he would leave you alone in peace.

"Hm." He flicked his turn signal switch to the right before making a turn. "I'm a Cancer, my birthday's on the third of July. And if you're wondering what to get me, I just want your cute little ass on my face." Cyprus sported a playful smirk on his handsome face.

You told him you hope he gets cancer on his birthday. Which made him roll his eyes and click his tongue.

"Someone's cranky." It was followed by a laugh from him. "Sleepy?"

You snapped, telling him you didn't want to go on this stupid date this early in the morning. Wishing that you had never met Cyprus because everything was fine before then, but he had to come around and ruin it. He should just shrivel up and die.

There were a few beats of silence before he began speaking again.

"Wow, where the fuck did that come from, princess? That was a lot to take in." He tried to keep the tone lighthearted, but you could hear a twinge of hurt in his voice. "I must have woken you on the wrong side of the bed today, you were never this mean to me." Something in the way he said that suggests Cyprus is trying to get you to tell him the real reason why you're so moody today.

You sealed your lips shut and looked out of the window. You wanted nothing to do with him and he probably got the hint, as he removed his hand from your lap and placed it on the steering wheel.

Your eyes somehow itched way more than usual, so you went on to rub your eyes again with both hands.

"Stop that-"

You snapped at him again, curling yourself into a ball, pressing yourself far away from Cyprus. He opened his mouth to say something but ultimately decided against doing so.

He looked troubled but you didn't care. Unfortunately, you're too upset to give a damn and you don't know why.

The rest of the ride was driven in silence, neither you or him said a word. And eventually, Cyprus has reached his destination, driving further past the tents and stalls to enter an underground parking lot.

"We're here." Cyprus pulled his handbrake up and killed the engine. He took the keys out of the ignition, but made no move to open the door.

Because he was staring at you, who is now refusing to budge. Hiding yourself in your corner with your knees brought to your chest.

He brought a hand up to your head, petting your hair affectionately. "Baby? I said we're here-"

You yelled at him, saying you heard him the first time. All that while harshly shoving his hand away from you.

"What the fuck is up with you today!?" And it seems like that was the last straw for him, Cyprus furrowed his eyebrows and crowded you from his seat, making the only escape route the door, but it was locked and you somehow couldn't open it no matter how much you tugged on the handle or toggled with the lock.

You said you hated him, he has ruined your life. Perhaps you were trying to mimic what his exes did, you don't know how they could withstand the pressure of his menacing presence. Or maybe they liked it, you definitely didn't.

He sternly called you by your name. "Look at me."

You refused, burying your face in your arms.

"Look at me!" He scolded, this time Cyprus seized you by the jaw and forced your face to his. His grip on you was almost bruising, forcing you to pucker your lips as his fingers dug into your cheeks.

He glared straight at you, steely grey eyes darting all over to examine whatever might be causing your sudden and severe hostility. Though his expression softened when he realized what's been behind your intolerance today.

"Ah." He sounded out, "That figures." relieved and annoyed at the same time. Cyprus brought his thumb on your lower eyelid and gently pulled it down. He then pushed your upper eyelid up.

"Pink eye. I told you not to hang around Nancy." Nancy was one of your nosier coworkers, she had just come back from a medical leave and Cyprus was already telling you to avoid her. You didn't listen despite how she would have coughing fits and bad coughing etiquette. In hindsight, maybe you should have heed his words, but you were desperate to regain some agency over yourself. So you rebelled.

He continued checking your eyeball even after he knew what he was looking at.

It felt invasive, so you thrashed in his grip enough for him to loosen it.

He sighed, taking his keys out of his pocket, jabbing it into his ignition and restarting it again. You winced when Cyprus revved up his engine and allowed its roar to bounce off the basement carpark walls.

"I knew you didn't mean any of it; the crap you said to me. But you really need to say what's bugging you next time... not just take it out on me." He brought his handbrake down and shifted gears.

You remained static in your position and stayed quiet.

"I know you wouldn't, though. It's like it'll kill you to open up." Cyprus drove away from his perfect parking spot, pressing on the gas pedal as if he was in a rush.

"It's fine, I totally love playing detective." Snarked Cyprus sarcastically.

You merely rubbed your eye with a finger.

--

"One more drop, princess." He whispered, holding cupping your cheek and using his thumb to pull your lower eyelid down. Once the last droplet of your antibiotics reached your eye, you blinked hard and held onto his wrist.

"That's a good girl," Cyprus whispered as he pecked you on the forehead, before screwing the cap back on the bottle. A few seconds later, you started to feel the relief in your diseased eyeball.

Cyprus had driven you to a nearby pharmacist, where he would buy medicated eye drops for your conjunctivitis. He had insisted that he is the one to administer it because he claimed that you wouldn't know how to do it correctly despite being there when the pharmacist verbally gave you the instructions. It wasn't cheap, but he still footed the bill himself.

You shook your head and blinked rapidly, allowing the medicine to spread evenly. Cyprus brushed any stray hairs away from your face with his fingers, you were too distracted with the sensation you have in your eye to push him away.

"Well?"

You looked at him. He has his arms crossed and is leaning against the side of his car.

"Aren't you going to apologize? You were so fucking mean to me earlier." He looked away momentarily, seemingly trying to hide something on his face before bringing back his focus on you.

You froze and couldn't get anything out, yes, you were unreasonably rude to him. But that may be your only ticket out of this forced relationship... Well, your last resort is to go to the police but you don't think it has come to that yet. It's not... Illegal to be a jerk to Cyprus as long as you check yourself from time to time.

You were brought out of your thoughts by an incoherent grumble from Cyprus, he massaged his brow. "Okay, we don't have to do that now, you're definitely still a little prickly for some reason and I think I know why." He took a deep breath and exhaled as he opened the door to his passenger seat.

You stared blankly at the interior of his car, he gestured for you to go in. "Come on, get in. I'm going to have to fight for another parking spot, and that's going to take a while."

You looked around you, god knows where you are right now and you have no smartphone to navigate your way back home. There isn't a bus stop in sight either. Perhaps you could slowly inch your way to the general direction of your home? Your shoes are intact and pretty comfortable, there has to be a bus stop somewhere.

"You are not walking home, I'll fucking wrangle you into this car if I have to." As if he was reading your mind, Cyprus quickly closed the space between the two of you, so that your face is almost smothered in his broad chest.

You begrudgingly agreed and went into the Passenger's side on your own. He closed the door for you and shook his head while walking towards the driver's seat.

The distance between the pharmacy and the market wasn't that far at all, it was short enough that Cyprus didn't try to initiate any small talk or touch you either. Or maybe he was still freshly wounded by your recalcitrance.

Cyprus only reached out to pull your hand away when you're about to rub your eyes again.

"Here." He picked up his thermos flask in his cup holder and handed it to you. "Drink up, you only had a tiny sip of water today."

You cautiously took it from his hand and opened it to access the crisp, refreshing water with ice cubes bobbing around.

He was right, Cyprus isn't looking for a motherly partner to supplement his life. He is the motherly one who you now realize took care of you very well no matter how much you didn't like his personality.

From cutting your steaks without needing to ask, making your meals, taking you to the clinic, and paying for anything you can think of. Yes, it's irritating that he would drag you to dates that you didn't even want to go on in the first place, but his intentions were for you to experience the world and all its novelty alongside him. He just wanted you to have fun differently and he isn't stingy with his money.

However, that doesn't discount the fact that he's doing all these against your will, touching you despite your numerous "No"s and rejections, forcing you to play along with this romantic fantasy of his in the office and holding your items hostage, so he could keep you in his apartment.

You brought your attention to him again, he's sulking. A stark contrast from his cheery, teasing attitude from this morning.

Somehow, you felt guilty for lashing out at Cyprus earlier. He did make you cry, though. So this could have been payback for it. However, he apologized, albeit sounding patronizing and infantilizing.

But if you apologize, it will only send a message that you're genuinely interested in being with Cyprus. Worsening his chronic disability to heed your rejections.

You thought about your next move.

[mariposa-writes]

Stressed - Travis Kelce

Travis Kelce x reader

Summary: Travis just wants to help you.

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: Trying to put more Travis fics out there, since there are barely any. This is my first time ever posting on here, please let me know what you think. Thanks and have a great day!

You sat at Travis's dining room table, looking over your stack of bills. It felt like they were never-ending, and it seemed like no mattered how much you worked there was never enough money.

You were constantly stressed, over everything. You couldn't even remember the last time you'd felt even slightly relaxed. The bills you received yesterday, were much higher than expected. Then you had to find time to work at your job while interning at KPMG, one of the top accounting firms. Not to mention you had 3 essays due soon along with multiple assignments. Plus Travis had some event he wanted you to attend, where you would officially be showing up as a couple.

You guys had decided to keep your relationship on the DL for the past year and managed to keep your relationship hidden from the public.

Travis placed a hand on your shoulder, making you jump. You hadn't even noticed that he'd gotten home. "Hey, it's just me." He chuckled, finding your reaction funny. You got up out of your chair, placing a quick kiss on his cheek. "Sorry," you mumbled before cleaning up the mess you'd created on his dining room table.

You quickly hid the bills under some of your notes, not wanting Travis to know you were struggling. You knew Travis all too well, knowing he would want to do anything he could to help you, whether that meant paying off your student debt or paying all of your bills. Hell, he'd probably even higher someone to write your essay's for you if you asked.

You were his world, and he was willing to do anything to make your life easier.

You quickly shoved the papers into your backpack, "I'll get started on dinner. I didn't realize what time it was." You said, getting ready to head into the kitchen.

"Hey," Travis grabbed your wrist, leading you back to him. "What's wrong?"

You blinked a few times, "Nothing, everything's fine. Just tired." You plastered a smile on your face, trying to be convincing. His eyes narrowed, clearly not believing you.

He sighed, deciding to let it go. "Why don't I cook tonight." He suggested, "You can go take a relaxing bath or something."

"Are you sure?" You asked knowing Travis didn't normally cook, "I can help if you want?"

"Babe, don't worry, I actually can cook, believe it or not." He laughed slightly.

"Not," you mumbled. You'd guys been together for a little over a year, and he hardly ever cooked. If you didn't feel like cooking, then you'd guys either order in, or he'd have his private chef come cook up a meal.

He slapped your butt as you turned to walk away, "I heard that." You laughed before rushing up the stairs to take a shower.

You loved Travis's shower, especially when he was with you. Sadly he was cooking dinner, so you had to enjoy the waterfall shower alone. At least you got to make the water scolding hot when you were alone, Travis always accused you of trying to burn your skin off with how hot you liked the water.

After your shower you changed into one of his shirts, that went to mid thigh on you and threw on some shorts you had in the dresser Travis had gotten for you 6 months ago.

You ventured down stairs with a smile on your face, feeling slightly relaxed after your shower. You could also smell the food from down stairs and it surprisingly smelled delicious.

Your smile quickly left your face when you turned the corner and saw Travis standing over your bag, with papers in hand. "What are you looking at?" You asked, despite already knowing what he was looking at.

Travis dropped the papers on the table, "Why didn't tell me you were struggling to pay your bills? Is this why you've been so distant lately?" His words were unexpected, you didn't think you'd been distant lately. You always tried to be in the present when you were with him.

You snatched the papers up and shoved them back into your bag. "You had no right to look through my stuff." You seethed. You couldn't believe he actually went in your bag and looked through your personal belongs.

"Well, I feel like I have to cause you'll barely talk to me anymore." Travis threw his hands up, frustrated at the situation.

You walked to the kitchen and grabbed your keys from the counter. You hated fighting and all you could think about was getting out of there before it got worse. "I have homework, I need to go home and finish it." You stated, walking out of his front door and to your car.

"Y/n" He called, following you. You ignored him, opening you car door and getting in. He caught the door before you could slam it shut. "Babe, don't leave please. We can talk about this."

"Trav," you pleaded. "I don't wanna fight right now. I just wanna go home."

"Bab-" you interrupted him by closing the door, starting your car and backing out of the driveway. He stood there watching you the whole time.

_____

The next day you had gotten up and went to your classes. Travis had been texting you all day, but you weren't responding.

You didn't know what to say, you felt like Travis had invaded your private information. Travis was an open book, he would tell you anything you asked. But you were more closed off.

You didn't trust people as easily as him. Maybe, because of the way you grew up. You learned to be independent form a young age and your mom always taught you to never trust anyone.

This caused some issues between you and Travis, even if you didn't realize. Like the time he bought you a car because, he didn't want you driving your old beater that had trouble starting up during the winter.

He worried that it would break down and you'd get stranded somewhere. Well, you're still driving that car and Travis has a spare car parked in his garage since he refused to return it.

You walked up to your apartment, feeling even more tired than normal. You hadn't been home all day, after your classes ended at 2 you went to the place you're interning at and worked until 6, then you went to your other job and worked till close.

It was now 11:15 and when you opened your door, you didn't expect to see Travis sitting on your bed. His head snapped up when the door opened and you walked through. "Trav, what-"

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have looked through your stuff. I don't wanna fight, I love you so much baby and it kills me when you're mad at me." He was now standing in front of you cupping your face with his hands. "I just want to make your life easier. You could've told me you were struggling. I would've helped you pay your bills."

You sighed, leaning into his hand. Travis loved physical contact, while you were the opposite. You hated hugging your friends, or anyone for that matter. But when it came to Travis you craved his touch. "That's why I didn't tell you. I knew you would want to pay for everything and fix it. I can handle it myself, I've been doing it for the past 22 years. "

"Just cause you have been doing it doesn't mean you still have too. I'm here now, you're not alone anymore." Tears started to well up in your eyes.

"But what happens when I become dependent on you, and you leave me" He tried to cut you off, to tell you that'd never happen but you kept going. "Trav, you have literal super models in your dm's. What if you wake up one day and realize you don't wanna be with me and you want to be with one of them." You were crying now, you'd never voiced these fears to Travis. He wiped every tear that fell away with his thumb. "Then I'm alone and I don't know how to function on my own anymore, because I'm so dependent on you."

"Babe, I'm never gonna leave you." He knew where these thoughts were coming from. "I'm not your father, I would never leave you because I thought I found something better."

"How do you know?"

"Because I already know that you're the best there is." He took your hand in his. "Babe, we fit together so well. You fit with my family so well. Jason and his family love you, my parents love you, and most importantly I love you. So I'm begging you to stop shutting me out. Turn to me when you need help."

"I love you too Kelce." He leaned down, his lips meeting yours. His tongue slipped between your lips, making you moan. You were certain that he was the best kisser in the world. This continued for a few minutes, you growing wetter by the minute.

"Move in with me." He said, his forehead resting against yours. Your eyes widening, "and before you say no, just know that I've been thinking about this for a while. This isn't a split second decision."

Your mind told you no, but for once you decided to listen to your heart. "Yes." He smiled, before his lips meet yours again. He lead you over to your bed and you two had the best night of your life.

[enhaheeseung]

At your service l. Heeseung

Pairing: live in maid heeseung x rich fem reader

Warnings: age gap, crying, angst, heartbreak.

• Masterlist

• WC: 2,344k

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

“What’s wrong with you?” Jay asked a depressed looking heeseung while they ate lunch outside on the school bench.

“You were right,” heeseung sighed, resting his chin on the table with a pout that had never left his face since you kicked him out last night.

“Hmm?” Jay takes a bite of his salad, mainly focusing on the contents of the bowl rather than his sulking friend.

“I should have just left her alone.” he pushes his food to the side, not having an appetite since last night.

“Who? Your boss?” Jay wipes his mouth a bit more attentively after hearing what heeseung said.

“Yeah,” heeseung mumbles sadly. Right now, he’d usually be using his lunch to go see you on his short break or at least text you, but alas, here he is, sitting in front of a cold lunch and a friend that he can’t help but despise a little bit even though the events of what happened last night were technically all his own fault.

“Why do you say that?” Heeseung sits up in his chair, body slouching down into the back of it.

“Cause I fell in love with her and she saw our messages” he taps the bench with his fingertips his eyes looking as if he’s spaced out while he casually tells his friend about his love life.

Jay nearly choked on a piece of lettuce when the words left his friend's mouth. “You what, and she what now?”

“I ended up playing a bit too much and fell in love with her,” he says, the tiniest bit of a smile reaching the corners of his mouth. “We were doing so good, and I haven’t been this happy with anyone in my entire life. I even bought her a little puppy. It was her birthday yesterday, and we were just so happy everything was going perfectly, but she saw the messages and-“ he choked up a little, remembering the hurt look on your face and the hurt he felt when you slapped him. “Needless to say, she doesn’t want to see me anymore, and I’m jobless,” he laughs pathetically, eyes tearing up a bit.

“I-I’m sorry I didn’t know,” Jay murmured, feeling like it was his fault for sending the messages. Heeseung’s story was a little all over the place, but Jay got the jest.

“It’s not your fault I should have told you my feelings for her a long time ago and I apologize for denying my feelings towards her at the time I just didn’t want to fall in love again after what happened” he wiped his eyes straightening his posture and trying to take his mind off it. “Anyways what were you texting me for that was so urgent” he finally stuck his fork into a piece of cold beef on his food tray.

“Oh, um, I won a free trip to study in Canada, and I can bring a plus one,” Jay says enthusiastically. “And obviously, you’re the plus one, that is, if you’re up for it after, you know,” he mumbled the last part, hoping not to come off as insensitive.

Heeseung smiles faintly. “Canada really doesn’t sound too bad right now.”

-

A day after the incident with your now ex-boyfriend, you called your cousin cause you had to talk to someone about what happened; otherwise, you’d give yourself a headache thinking about it, and you knew he was the only one in your family who would still be up at this late hour.

“Hey, hoon,” you smile as you hear him greet you back, but your voice breaks almost immediately as you open up to him about everything, crying to him and pouring out every single detail that took place in the past few months of you dating your live-in maid.

You didn’t mean to dump all this on him at once, but you couldn’t keep it all bottled up in your head any longer.

He listens intently, agreeing with you on everything, even going as far as to curse out the man that he never met a day in his life before, but anyone who hurt you was a target for him, a walking bullseye.

“I can come over for the weekend i know how lonely it can get in that mansion of yours and I know this is really hard for you” he says as you both near the end of the conversation.

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to bother you,” you said softly.

“It’s fine. Besides, I’ll bring Jake over, too. He’s been dying to see your mansion ever since I told him about it,” he laughs.

“Thanks, hoon. I really appreciate it. I’ll see you two next week.” You end the call with a sigh. You could definitely use both their company.

-

When the weekend rolls around, and the clock strikes eight, your doorbell rings, and none other than your punctual cousin is standing outside on your porch, his arms spread wide open for a big hug.

“Hey! Y/n, it’s so good to see you,” he smiles softly, wrapping his arms around you.

“You too,” you replied, arms encircling his back, and you couldn’t help but cry from the contact, the comforting hug being exactly what you needed after sulking all week.

“Aww come on let’s go inside” he guided you inside tossing his bag on the floor and leading you to the couch. “You wanna tell me more?” He asks attentively.

You nodded, wiping your tears and giving him the run down from start to finish while your tears dried.

You told him everything from the start about how you felt about Heeseung and the relationship you had formed with him in the short time span since you had hired him till the last time you saw him and everything in between.

“Wow, what a fucking loser,” Sunghoon scoffs in disbelief, trying to control the rage that was coursing through his veins. That heeseung guy better pray they never come into contact. He thinks for a moment wondering how to go about this he could confront him personally and have a civil conversation with your piece of shit for an ex, but he had a better idea. “So you still have to see him one last time and give him his check?” You nodded, confused by his question, wondering what that had to do with anything after everything you’ve told him just now.

“Why?” You decided to ask.

“Leave it to me,” he smirks to himself, mentally patting himself on the back for his wicked idea, but heeseung should have known better than to hurt your feelings like that.

-

Heeseung was lying in bed, one hand behind his head, looking up at the ceiling, thinking about you.

Usually, at this time, he’d be laid up with you, cuddling in your bed and probably watching TV or making love to you or maybe just talking to you. Whatever the case, maybe he’d be with you, and that’s all that mattered. A notification on his phone knocks him out of his thoughts, and he reaches for it unenthusiastically. He doesn’t look at the screen; assuming it is Jay, he unlocks his phone, but his eyes quickly widen in surprise when he sees that it is you.

He popped up out of bed, opening the text faster than the speed of light and reading it.

He frowned.

He was hoping that maybe it was you actually reaching out to talk to him, but as he read that it was only about picking up his last paycheck, he couldn’t help the ache he felt in his chest.

On a brighter side, maybe when he picked up his check, he could use that as an opportunity to explain himself to you one last time.

He got up took a quick shower and got dressed in casual but classy attire spraying what used to be your favorite cologne on.

Slipping his shoes on, he grabs his keys and heads out the door to collect his last check, hoping you both could maybe have a conversation about what happened, and he could explain how sorry he really was and just how much he’s been missing you and loving you from afar.

Just in case, he grabbed the jewelry box before he left the one that held the birthday present, slipped it into his black slacks, and headed to your place.

Upon arrival he rings the doorbell and waits for a few moments whistling to get rid of his nervousness but it didn’t work.

The door swung open a few seconds later, and heeseung put on his best face, but it fell completely when you weren’t the one answering the door.

With his brow furrowed, he thinks to himself.

Who’s he? Since when did you have visitors? Was he your new boyfriend? Brother? But you didn’t look alike. What’s happening?

He wanted to say every single last one of those things, but instead, he composed himself. “H-hi, is y/n home?” He asked meekly.

“Umm, she is, but,” he enunciates the t, looking back at the staircase. “She’s busy,” he responds and looks at heeseung, a wide fake smile plastered on his face.

“Oh well, she texted me a bit ago to come over for my payment. I used to work for her, so,” he explains, wondering why you’d text him if you were so busy that you couldn’t even answer the door when he arrived.

“Odd,” Sunghoon rubbed his chin in thought. “I’ll let her kno- uh, never mind, there she is.” he opens the door wider, giving heeseung a clear view of you coming down the stairs.

Heeseung smiles when he sees you it’s only been a few days but you’re still just as beautiful as he remembers.

He goes to greet you, but again, his face falls flat when he sees you coming down with a man trailing behind you.

Not just a man.

A man that was shirtless, and now that his eyes flick between the two of you, he notices that you’re tying up a bedrobe, and the guy behind you is putting his shirt on. The sight made him feel like puking, and he could feel his heart drop.

Did you already move on that fast? Did you not love him in the first place? How were you already seeing other guys? “Y/n?” He says your name, clearly confused as he walks into your mansion and what you both used to call home together. “What Is this?” He can’t help but ask. His eyes are soft as ever as he looks at you, waiting patiently for an answer despite the racing of his poor heart.

“Oh, is this the guy you told me about?” Jake asked, pretending to be your new man going along with the plan that Sunghoon had brought up to you the other night when he came to your place.

You simply nodded your head, following Jake’s lead a bit reluctantly. You didn’t exactly like Sunghoon's plan, but since it was an opportunity to get back at heeseung, you took it after what he had done to you.

“You should have told me we had company, baby,” Jake smirks at heeseung. “Sorry, bro, didn’t mean to keep her so long, but I’m sure you know how it is.” Jake winks and places his hand on your shoulder for extra measure before walking past heeseung on the staircase.

Heeseung cringed at the filthy words this random guy spoke to him. Who the hell were they, and how did you go from barely having any contact with anyone to now having not one but two men in your home? This wasn’t like you. “Y/n,” he ignores everything else, waiting for you to give him answers. He needed it straight from the source, not whoever these two clowns were.

You turned around getting ready to walk upstairs but he quickly climbed the first three steps gripping your wrist and stopping you. “Hands off” sunghoon quickly intervened.

“I don’t know who you are, and I do not care. Lay hands on me again, and there’s going to be a problem.” heeseung turned to Sunghoon towering over him, his heart racing with anger, a complete contrast to the way he looked when he turned his attention back to you as Sunghoon took a few steps back. “Y/n, wait, please listen. I love you, okay?” He said softly, with tears gathering in his eyes as he reached into his pocket, grabbed the box with your jewelry in it, and showed it to you. “It was your birthday present. I got us matching ones.” he held out the box, and you couldn’t help but take it out and examine it. Your mind was piqued with curiosity, and your heart ached as you inspected it.

He peeled his shirt back, showing you the other half, which was hanging off a chain around his neck.

You really wanted to believe him, but if he loved you, what was his friend talking about? You were conflicted, and you regretted even listening to Sunghoon and setting this up as you handed heeseung the box back and ran to your room with tears in your eyes.

He watched you disappear from his sight and he closed the box his jaw tightly clenched as he walked back to the door bumping sunghoon on the shoulder roughly as he left and slammed the front door shut.

Jake appeared from the kitchen when everything went silent. “Did he really just drop the L word infront of us?” He asked eyes widen with shock.

“Yeah…..” sunghoon scratches his head in confusion. The funny thing is that heeseung looked really sincere, and the way he just confessed to you in front of them was definitely a gutsy move on his part.

Maybe he’d gauged it wrong, maybe Heeseung just made a mistake, or maybe he really did love you after all.

He shook his head and didn’t think about it too much before running upstairs to apologize and comfort you.

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

Thanks for reading likes comments and reblogs are always appreciated sorry for any typos or errors I hope you all have a good day/night♥️

[pumpkinbxtch]

hey queen bean!!! 💛 i wanna start off saying i’m so glad we’re moots HEHEHE <333 i was also hoping if i could request a leo blurb or oneshot maybe like,, a quince night with him?? like maybe he got invited and the reader is like his plus one??

I WENT TO A QUINCE ONCE OF ONE OF MY BEST FRIENDS AND IT WAS THE BEST PARTY IVE EVER BEEN TO i think about it to this DAYYY. LIKE THE FOOD?? delish. THE DANCING OH MY GOSH I WAS DANCING ALL NIGHT

okay i’ll stop rambling 🤲 hope we interact more!!!

sunkisses, sunni! ☼ *. mwuah!

quinceañera night ✧⁠*⁠。

— leo valdez x fem!reader

warnings: language

a/n: Hello, Sunni! I'm also happy that we are mutual, I assure you that sometimes you won't get me out of your comments, lol. Here is this little blurb (I don't know how it turned out, I always write this before, but I hope it's okay 😮‍💨) I love when these things are mixed together because I'm Mexican so, it's my things ig. I'm going to stop rambling too, I hope you like it. 😭 mwuahh.

You were pissed, like, really pissed.

But Leo had invited you to that party, and between your pride and letting him go with someone else? NEVER. So, you ended up with him at the entrance of the party hall, fixing your heels.

The way Leo acted like a total gentleman with you killed you, annoyed you, frustrated you, because he wasn't yours, and you weren't his. That annoyance squeezed your guts, and you bit your lip uncomfortably.

Pretending not to care about not labeling your relationship or that everything could stay the same for a thousand years just to avoid suffocating him with the question was so hard. But you couldn't help but live with the constant fear that someone better than you would snatch away the person you loved the most.

— Ready — he said, giving your heel buckle a final check. He was at your feet with that beaming smile, the way his curls fell from his forehead should be illegal for the way it made your stomach flutter. — Does it feel okay?

You huffed and lightly pushed him with the tip of your shoe, making him lose balance momentarily as you stood up. Leo let out a charming laugh that made warmth spread to your cheeks. You were about to turn around to slap him hard and then kiss him.

He trotted to catch up with you and offered his arm.

— Señorita? —he raised an eyebrow.

— Leo

And you hooked onto him. Even though that had already happened, right?

Oh, damn. YOU NEVER HAD MORE FUN AT A PARTY.

— Let's go, let's have some fun — he sang in your ear. You looked him directly in the eyes, and he winked at you. Leo was already lively on his own, but you had never seen him like this, jumping around and giving playful smiles. He was having a good time, and for both of your sakes, you wanted to enjoy the party too.

Indeed, Leo was actually too happy because he was showing you a side of him that wasn't easy to reveal, not because he had issues with it, but simply because you can't find easily people who enjoy pozole, celebrate quinceañeras, or any festivities the way they did.

— Here — you saw him run from a few meters away to your table and extend a fruit skewered on a stick. You raised an eyebrow for an explanation.

— Jicaleta.

"Jica- what?" but oh, Zeus, it was delicious. You never thought a Jicama on a stick with chili would be such a delicacy.

Leo sat back down next to you and nudged your shoulder to get your attention. The expression on your face wouldn't have changed for a million dollars; the sparkle in your eyes was enough to have him giving you one of those looks that you knew meant trouble, so you decided to ignore it.

—What are you looking at? — You huffed, and before you could fully look away, he cupped your cheek to stop you.

— At you — cooed. He brushed off tiny sugar remnants from the corner of your lips. Those tiny crystals stayed on his thumb, and instead of wiping them on a napkin, he brought them to his mouth, tasting a bit of that sweet flavor. In an attempt to hide your nervousness, you furrowed your brow and wrinkled your nose.

—Ew.

Leo rolled his eyes.

— Oh, come on — he scoffed and kissed you softly. With his plush lips on yours, for a moment, you needed nothing more than this moment.

"The grill is open. You can order your tacos, and there's also barbecue."

But Leo seemed to need more food. And he got up, pulling you by the hand towards the forming line.

— Okay, okay. Try them — you groaned.

— Leo, I've already tried the tacos. I'm not doing anything out of the ordinary. — He repeatedly shook his head, so abrupt that you feared for his neck.

— No, linda — he took a taco from his own plate and held it up like a religious act; you could almost see some heavenly light surrounding the food, but it was probably just the party lights. — This is a real taco, not those sold with hard tortillas!

If only you could keep track of how many times you rolled your eyes. Nevertheless, the person playing an undefined role in your life (who called himself Leo) extended the food for you to try, and you took a bite.

The exquisite flavor made you cover your mouth and raise your eyebrows in surprise.

— Fuck — you said with your mouth full. Leo smiled triumphantly and kissed your cheek.

— I told you. Now, squeeze some lemon on it, squeeze some lemon on it!

Definitely, the most peculiar part for you was when the birthday girl started dancing with her chambelanes¹.

— Why is she dancing to us if it's her birthday?

Leo chuckled, still wrapping his arm around your shoulders and his head slightly resting on yours as you admired the girl changing outfits about five times and dancing various music genres in less than 10 minutes.

“Mordida²! Mordida! Mordida!"

Once again, you looked at him for an explanation. You applauded along with the rhythm but didn't understand why the quinceañera looked so nervous and complained at times.

—She has to take a bite of the cake.

You contorted your face in confusion and looked at her closely. Once the girl leaned slightly over the cake, her brother, mother, and father smashed it onto her, regardless of whether she choked. You felt slightly sorry for her until you saw that amidst all the icing and cream, she was also smiling and laughing brightly.

— Does she know that will be recorded? — you asked, looking at the cameraman who was also smiling at the scene.

— She knows — Leo took your hand and kissed your knuckles. Once again, that knot formed in your stomach, and you discreetly pulled your hand away. Slowly but surely, you were getting tired of his deliberate touch; you liked it, but you couldn't ignore your feelings.

It seemed that the elaborate itinerary of the quinceañera had ended, and only enjoyment remained; people were already on the dance floor or chatting animatedly at the tables while some kids ran around with candies in their hands. You were truly having a good time, and you liked learning more about this side of Leo.

— And? — he leaned towards you, and you leaned back.

— I'm having fun — you admitted and grabbed one of those candies on the centerpieces; it was called "tamborcito," it was so small that it was endearing that it was just a lump of sugar and chili, delicious.

The brunette leaned closer to you, searching your eyes, but you weren't in the mood for that kind of game.

Watching couples dance, kiss, and share a moment of celebration created a bittersweet feeling in you; you longed for something you didn't have. His hand found yours, and when you finally met his eyes, there was hardness in your gaze, the same hardness that pricked Leo's chest, giving him the sensation that something was not right, but what could it be?

— I'm going to the bathroom — you said, snatching the opportunity to avoid his questions. He watched you walk away and sank into his chair, letting out a loud groan. "The way she makes me nervous should be illegal," he thought.

Same thoughts, no communication.

You fixed your makeup a bit, wiped the excess sweat from your forehead, and adjusted your dress. You were glad you didn't have to be selling a wound or planning strategies; you were just a girl with a guy. As you dried your hands, you laughed sarcastically. If only you were his girl; you barely wanted to walk back to him.

You watched Leo from the bathrooms as he seemed to nod his head to the rhythm of the music; he looked so cute that it made you throw a little tantrum, taking advantage that no one saw you.

— Hi — a guy said beside you. You jumped, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks.

In the end, he asked you to dance.

Yes. Not Leo, that guy, and you thought, "screw it, why not?"

The guy smiled widely when you took his hand. If your UNDEFINED relationship with Leo would serve you anything, what better than to take advantage with a cute guy.

Meanwhile, Leo was starting to get impatient. How long could you take in the bathroom? He got up from the table with the intention of looking for you, but seeing you dance on the dance floor made his soul sink to his feet. And dances are VERY different at a quinceañera; sure, there's everything, but DANCING was a very different matter. Leo wouldn't have worried if it had been a cumbia or salsa, but bachata? the way that guy held you by the hips and led you while dancing drove him crazy.

His blood began to boil, and he tried to calm himself to avoid losing control over his powers to prevent himself from igniting. He made his way towards you, dodging people and apologizing until a click in his head made him stop in his tracks. With what right would he snatch you from the arms of that man? If he just remembered friends with benefits were famous because exactly, there was nothing to explain to the other.

Moreover, he observed your face, with a huge smile and your eyes focused on not messing up the next step. The colorful lights illuminated your face beautifully. He clenched his fist and returned to his place.

You hadn't stopped dancing with the guy; he was kind and taught you patiently.

You pouted as you walked through the garden of the hall and saw Leo kicking a rock with the tip of his shoe. There was the problem; no matter how attentive he had been or how good a match he seemed, he wasn't him.

Your friend's shoulders brushed against the branches of a bush, and he abruptly stopped.

— Did you have fun?— he asked with a certain acidity in his voice; you knew what he was getting at, but you didn't want to give it importance.

— Tons — you balanced on one foot as you unfastened your shoe. Leo just nodded with his gaze fixed on the bush as he caressed the foliage with his index finger.

You rolled your eyes and dropped the heel to the ground to unfasten the other one.

— Why that face, Leo? — It wasn't your intention to sound so mocking, but you couldn't help but feel a certain pleasure in his jealousy. He gave you a scowling look and huffed.

— I'm not making any face — he tore off the leaf and burned it in his hands. Jealousy was eating him alive.

— If you say so — you pulled a piece of paper from the bag hidden in your dress and smiled.

The guy tore another branch forcefully when he saw you smile and extended his hand, taking the piece of paper from you.

— Hey!

— Did he give you his number?

— And what if he did?

He inhaled loudly and felt pathetic. It was true. He returned it to you, still annoyed, and sat on the edge of the planter as you finished taking off your shoe. Both palms resting on his cheeks with that grumpy expression.

— I have something to say — he said once three seconds had passed, which for him felt like an eternity. You rolled your eyes again and put your hand on your hip, dropping the other heel. You were already barefoot on the pavement.

— What?

— I like you.

You softened your expression, replacing it with one of confusion.

— What?

— I like you, I love you — Leo looked up and gave you a flat, resigned smile.

— Like... what?

Leo scratched the back of his neck and straightened up.

— I like you, I love you, let's be boyfriend and girlfriend.

He thought it had been a great way to declare his feelings, but instead, you crumpled the piece of paper with the guy's number and threw it at his face, poking his left eye.

— Auch!

— Dumbass

And you held back a sob. It was so unfair. He seemed to read your thoughts and stood up.

— Okay, okay, okay. Wait, don't look — he took you by the shoulders and turned you around so you faced away. You heard the leaves rustle and some twigs snap; when he reappeared in your sight, he had his hair tousled and some bougainvillea branches in his hand. His eyes pleading and nibbling lightly on his lips. — Can we finally be together and stop with the nonsense once and for all because I can't stand seeing you with someone else, and besides, you're my best friend? Come on, say yesss

You couldn't hold that serious image for long. You threw yourself into his arms and kissed him on the cheek, for the first time confident.

— You're an idiot.

— I'll take that as a yes.

You nodded frantically and kissed him, this time on the lips, with such force that your red lipstick left a mark on him.

— Damn, finally — Leo celebrated and lifted you in a bridal style, making you scream with happiness. He leaned down with you to tangle the straps of your heels on his fingers and set off towards the car. — I'll take you home.

You raised both arms as if you were on a roller coaster. smiled ecstatically, with flushed cheeks. — Take me home!

¹ chambelanes: are the dancers who the quinceañera, usually they're a mix of family, professionals and the boyfriend.

² mordida: bite

[shurisbathwater]

𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙧!𝙨𝙝𝙪𝙧𝙞 𝙞𝙢𝙖𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙚

You fucked that girl that you met at the party I got some new niggas down in the lobby, How can I sleep when you're out catchin' bodies? I still wanna be with you, trust me, I know that's insane...

i got this idea while listening to telekenesis,n i just got a random urge to write asap. i suggest that yall should while reading too! this is gonna be short and defo not sweet. mentions of sex, angst and argument incoming... and yes i did put random lyrics in some parts just bc 😭 You pull up the mirror in your friends car, looking at yourself once more before you went into the mansion which you were parked right beside. The bass of afrobeats and dancehall practically made the house shake. Of course, you didnt want to actually be there.You'd rather be with your girlfriend. Though she was still on that business trip..it somehow got longer by two days?

you missed her. you wanted to hug her, you wanted to kiss her, you wanted to... "Ready to go, mama?" Ashanti said, in the drivers seat, looking at you. She parted her full glossy lips as she waited for a response. Ashanti has been one of your closest friends for over a while now-even before Shuri entirely. "yeah." you utter back, as you dust the top of your all black outfit. you pull the mirror back up and step out of the car, your knee high boots clacking as you walk. you smooth your hair down before sighing, glancing at ashanti and walking in together. Once you walked in, the smell of drugs, alcochol and many kinds of other things filled your sense of smell. you really hadn't been at a party in a while. And you wanted to keep it that way. But ashanti just kept pushing so you just gave in. Plus,you didnt want to be ruin the fun of course. You take a seat on one of the couches, one leg on top of the other. "I'm gonna get us some drinks." ashanti grins, and you nod with a smile. once her back turns your smile fades. You begin to observe the environment you are in. Flashing led lights, loud music. you look around to see people smoking in one corner, drinking in another, and people socialising everywhere. you realise your body is tense, and you try to make yourself just..relax. You drop your shoulders and take a breath, trying to enjoy yourself. You missed your Shuri and all, but you had to just let go, like your best friend had said to you earlier on. you see Ashanti in the corner of your eye, and you turn to her and smile. She hands you your drink. "Thank you love." you say. "no problem." she replies. You take a sip of your drink, and you scrunch your nose up as the liqour burns your throat. "what is this?" you ask. "just drink, girl." she laughs. you shake your head as you chuckle, glancing at the doorway leading to the upstairs of the luxorious mansion.

you then see someone walk past, the sharp jawline caught your eye in the midst of all the flashing strobe lights. You noticed their undercut and their prada shades. almost like shuri? what the fuck? your smile turns to a frown and you whip out your phone instantly, turning it on and typing in shuri's contact. you: where are you rn?

delivered

Your brows furrow. Maybe you were just being stupid right? these lights are pretty bright..so..maybe you just confused someone else for her? thats probably it. calm down, yn. you thought as you switch your phone off. "Yn? yn? helloooo?" ashanti repeats, tapping you. "what? sorry, i thought i saw shuri." you let out a chuckle. "where?" she raises her brows, looking through the big crowd. "No, no..its nothing. im probably just tripping. not the liqour hitting." you laugh it off. Ashanti cackles along with you,slapping your shoulder.

Soon, you find yourself lost in the party, drinking, dancing and chopping it up with some others. you were even feeling the effect of the liquor, weirdly, you were always the sober one. you're laughing with ashanti once again, until you hear the intro of unforgettable. You gasp. "this is my song!" you squeal, pulling your friend up by the arm as you both make your way to the dance floor. You loose yourself to the flow of the music, and find yourself actually having fun..for the first time in a while now-without shuri. Ashanti wraps her hands around your waist as you dance, as you are recording on your phone lipsyncing to the lyrics.

in the distance, you see a head pull through the crowd, similar to who you saw earlier, and your eyes widen but you ignore it this time. You're not going to let that ruin your night. Shuri would never lie to you. You trust her beyond a hundered percent. Later, you're playing truth or drink with two girls you and ashanti had met here, at the party. you couldn't even count how many hours you were here. Honestly, it was lit and you didn't care. You down another shot, and you feel the burn in your throat for the millionth time tonight, but you're somewhat used to it now. "damn." you mutter, as you scrunch your nose. after a few more rounds, you feel the need to go to the bathroom. "I'm going to the bathroom, i'll be right back." You say, getting up. "you want me to go with you?" ashanti offers. "no thanks. im good." you smile, before turning on your heel and making your way there. you open many doors, but cant seem to find it. "Hey, you know where the bathroom is?" you ask a person standing around. "i think its right there." they point to the door down the hall. You smile and nod. "Thank you." you make your way there, and open the door with a click. This, in fact, was not the bathroom. your eyes widen as you see a girl sitting on the edge of the bed, as someone was drowned between her thighs. Looked just like the girl you saw earlier. "S..shuri.." the girl lets out a breathy moan as she grips the sheets of the bed, and the person on her knees hums against her, still between her legs. your whole body turns cold, and suddenly the music stops and you stand there, frozen. You couldn't believe what you were seeing and you prayed it wasn't real. all the Alcohol leaves your body so fast, like you had never even been drinking in the first place. Shuri is supposed to be miles away from here. she is miles away.

"you like that baby?" the person under her uttered, her thick wakandan accent present. Fuck. your mouth slightly drops open, and you turn on your heel, making a sound, leaving as quick as you came, leaving the door wide open. you quickly walk away from the scene, and blink back tears. you had to get out of here, fast. suddenly, you feel a familiar grasp grab your wrist. you turn to see who you wished and hoped it wasnt who you thought it was. "yn? how long had you been standing there? when did you get here?" she asks.

"Long enough to know that you're a liar and a cheat! i should be asking you when you got here!" you pull away from her grasp and take a step back. "You fucking lied to me! you told me you were out of the country for longer. why?" you suck in a breath, trying to blink back tears.

"I..." "I dont even want to hear your lame ass excuse." you laugh bitterly. "I cant believe this right now, I...three years down the drain. Three! for some girl that you met at a stupid house party." Your voice wavers, and you take another step back. "it was a mistake. she means nothing." shuri takes two steps closer to you, and suddenly you find yourself turning around and leaving. fast walking through the crowds of drunks as your throat begins to grow a sharp pain, and your lips tremble as you try to hold back a sob. You're startin' fresh, man, you fell out of pocket You fucked that girl that you met at the party...

[venusandsaturnsrings]

out of all of ur tarus,, who’s the most obsessed with eating ur pssy

EXCELLENT QUESTION THANK YOU!! okay, i have a firm answer on this already but i’d like to dissect the different taru pussy eating styles. that way you all can decide who you’d want most based on skills and experience!! more exciting than a regular answer me thinks… anyways!!

inceltaru: my personal most beloved taru au!! but… zero experience. could not name a single anatomical part of a pussy if a gun was to his head. knows nothing and has never even been close to eating someone out. when first meeting him, he’s the type of guy who says “girls are supposed to give head not get it. i’m not into that, shits gross,” with a grimace. his curiosity is the saving grace here plus his obsession runs deep. tries it and immediately cannot get enough though he doesn’t get you off (he’s bad at it initially). give him a couple more goes and he’s worked out what makes you sob the hardest!! inceltaru is majorly into seeing you give him the same heart eyes back and going down on your for hours gets him that so it’s a win-win situation. he’ll be between your legs the most often when he’s stressed or feeling nice for once. stress leads to him nibbling and slapping your clit while nice will have him placing sloppy kisses all over!! does expect a blow in return though.

frat taru: eugh… he’s not very good at all… almost never gives head. minimal experience and not passionate about it until he’s actually into you which may take some time. he’ll come around eventually and when he does, trust you’ll get it the most often in the back of his car. makes snide remarks about how he doesn’t want his frat bros seeing him be such a beta but it’s clear he loves it if the way he palms himself through his sweats says anything!! eventually he’ll get better at it and like it more and more but he’d prefer fucking you properly. he does finger you more often, usually in the corner of random parties or places where you don’t have much time.

foxtaru: if there was an award for most toothy head, foxtaru would get it. he’s not mean and doesn’t bite, just likes gently nibbling your pretty lips and clit!! he loves the way it feels between his canines. gives very good but cheeky head; he’s rather teasing about it most of the time. tail swishing, you’ll be pushing his head closer whenever he slows down to get a ride out of you. all tarus are sadomasochists, foxtaru included, so pinch his ears and he’ll get back to it properly. definitely gives head the most!!

puptaru: sweet boy :(( overwhelmingly passionate about eating pussy!! will whine, paw at you, and beg until you let him. sobs for “just a little taste!” until you’re pushing your panties to the side for him to shove his face in. it’ll always end up being more than a taste though. he’s grabbing your thighs and slobbering all over you with ears pressed back and his tail wagging so hard you fear he’ll hurt himself. absolutely ADORES sucking on your clit. could spend hours abusing the little bud just to make you feel good and satiate his need for mouthfuls of your delicious juices :(( cross eyed and humping whatever he can the whole time but has gotten off untouched just by eating you out before. very much enjoys sticking his tongue in you and just feeling the way you squeeze it like it’s his dick. more often than not, you’ll be pinned down and bred once he’s had his fill. eating pussy is his full time job and he’s never called in sick!!

canon taru: what would this post be without the original?? he loves to serve, a soldier in all ways including when it comes to your pleasure. he takes it the most seriously, even pulling out a timer one time just to see how fast he could get you off. he can be teasing but he’s got that winner mindset even when he’s between your legs. he gives relatively steady head when his competitive nature is set aside. likes bringing you to the edge gently before prolonging your orgasm as long as he can. it’s not worth it to him if your legs aren’t trembling when he’s done!! i could make an entire separate post about foul legacy pussy eating but just know, he’s nothing but rough when he gets like that. tongue fucks you into the next dimension, mouth covering the entirety of your cunt with ease. his tongue his about has long as his normal dick is in that form…

ahem… if you couldn’t tell, puptaru is the most obsessed with eating you out!! foxtaru is a close second though!! inceltaru and canon taru tie for third while frat taru is last place… rankings aside, he loves eating you out regardless of au!! he’s a pussy pleaser!! pussy lover!! pussy adorer!! needs four square meals a day; breakfast, lunch, dinner, and pussy!!

[yxngbxkkie]

baseball love (k.s)

so, i thought of this fic idea on my way down to the academy for work! and i'm shocked that i finished it in one day 😅 its super cute, and i hope you guys like it 💓💓

feedback is greatly appreciated 🥰

"Wait," you stop in your tracks as your twin, Jisung, continues forward. "You're on the baseball team?"

He looks back at you with furrowed brows, halting his steps as well. "Yeah, I didn't tell you?" He mumbles as you catch up to him. "My friends and I tried out for it, and we made the team."

A giggle leaves your lips as you shake your head. "Han Jisung joined the baseball team? Hanji, can you even hit the ball?" You tease him, knowing some sports aren't exactly his strong suit.

Jisung scoffs before slapping your shoulder. You step away from him, wincing from the pain. "That's rude, Y/N!" He huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. "I can hit the fucking ball."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I just didn't know baseball was your thing," you apologize to him, laying a hand on his forearm.

"It's okay. I guess you're right. I did have a little bit of a hard time in tryouts. I'm kinda surprised I made the team," Jisung mentions while rubbing the back of his neck.

The two of you walk up to one of the campus buildings, and Jisung opens the door for you. You thank him while continuing further inside, glancing back to make sure he's still behind you.

Once the students clear out, both of you walk side-by-side again. "So, who else made the team?" You ask him, fiddling with the straps of your backpack.

"It's me, Chan, Seungmin, Jeongin, and Hyunjin," he lists off, and the smile drops from your face when hearing Seungmin's name.

"Seungmin?" You repeat, a hint of disgust in your voice. "He plays baseball?"

He nods his head in response and glances towards you. "He's like, the best out of all of us," Jisung laughs. You involuntarily roll your eyes. "You know, you should be nicer to him."

"Me!? Hanji, I'm always nice to him," you scoff, growing upset. "It's him. He's always fucking picking on me and saying mean shit."

"That's just how he is, Y/N. I've mentioned that before," he sighs, bringing a hand to his face. "He doesn't do it to be malicious."

You cast your gaze to the floor. "Could've fooled me," you mumble quietly, adjusting the bag on your back. "I gotta get to class. I'll see you later."

"Come to practice tonight!" Jisung almost yells as you walk away from him.

You wince and release a small hiss. "I'll see what I can do, Hanji," you tell him while rounding the corner.

-

"I can not believe he asked me to go to practice," you sigh to your best friend, Luna. "I have never expressed any interest in the sport. Especially now that Seungmin's on the team."

Luna hums in response as the two of you sit down at one of the empty tables. "Well, he seems pretty excited about it. Plus, you're his sister. Obviously, he wants your support," she states while shrugging her shoulders.

You groan, slamming your head against the wooden table. "I hate that you're right," you mumble before groaning again. "Will you come with me? It'll be more bearable if you're there."

"Yeah, I'll go!" She grins at you. "By chance… will Chan be there?"

A smirk comes to your lips, and you lift your head slowly. "Hanji did say he made the team, so I would assume," you mention, tilting your head to the side a bit. "Does someone have a crush?"

Luna releases a scoff, and she shakes her head at you. "What? No, no, I was just curious," she laughs nervously. "I remembered you said that he got onto the team."

"Good lie," you laugh loudly, quickly covering your mouth after.

"Oh, please," Luna rolls her eyes. "I could say the same for you with Seungmin."

You give her a blank look. "You're kidding, right?" You ask her, an eyebrow raised. "I can't fucking stand the kid."

"You're always bringing him up in conversation," she points out while raising her brow. "Like, the other day. I told you about my singing lessons, and you literally brought up Seungmin."

"He's in your class. It was bound to come up," you shrug, dismissing the example. "I don't like Seungmin. End of discussion."

Luna laughs, and she shakes her head. "Okay, whatever you say, honey."

You grumble to yourself and glance towards the little café. "I'm going to get something to drink. Do you want anything?" You ask her while standing up from your chair.

"Yeah, I'll have my usual," she tells you.

You nod your head and make your way over towards the short line. You cross your arms over your chest as you look over the menu. The person in front of you takes a couple of steps forward, and you follow suit.

"Y/N," a familiar voice calls out your name, causing you to turn your head. Seungmin stands behind you with a smirk on his lips, waving at you.

You bite the inside of your cheek, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. "Seungmin," you mumble before turning back around, hoping he'll stop talking to you.

"Jisung says you're coming to our practice tonight," he mentions, taking a few steps closer to you.

"No, I'm not," you say out of spite.

Seungmin chuckles and rests his arms on your shoulders. "Luna also said you are," he whispers into your ear.

You close your eyes and let out a deep breath. "Okay, and so what if I do? I'm going for Jisung," you sternly tell him, shrugging his arms off of you.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, idiot," you reassure him while stepping up to the cashier. You swiftly tell her your order along with Luna's. You pull out your wallet to pay when Seungmin runs into you.

"Add an iced americano, please," he interrupts you, and he places his hands over yours, stopping you from paying.

"What are you doing?" You ask him with narrowed eyes.

Seungmin glances down at you. "I'm paying. What does it look like?"

You scoff and turn away from him. "Unbelievable," you mumble while standing in front of the pick-up counter.

"Oh, come on," Seungmin draws out, bending slightly to look you in the eyes. "I just bought your drinks. A thank you would suffice."

"I didn't ask you to pay for it, Seungmin," you spit. The barista places yours and Luna's drink down, and you quickly grab them before walking back to your table.

Seungmin watches you walk away from him, releasing a tiny huff. "I would say she's not a fan of you," another barista mentions to him, causing him to glance towards the employee.

"Yeah, I gathered that, thanks," he deadpans before taking his coffee.

-

You sit on the bleachers with Luna. Your arms are crossed over your chest as you send daggers Seungmin's way.

As soon as the two of you showed up, he sought out the need to annoy you. Every time you made eye contact with him, he'd give you his stupid smirk. And each time, you'd look away with an eye roll.

"Chan looks so good," Luna sighs to herself, not realizing you could hear her.

"He does look good, I agree," you snicker, glancing towards the younger woman.

You watch her eyes widen, her gaze quickly meeting yours. "Shit, I mean -"

"You can't lie your way out of this one, ma'am. Just admit that you like him," you giggle. "Maybe I can have Hanji put in a good word for you."

She blushes at your offer before looking back towards the field. "Would he really do it?" She asks in a whisper.

"Yeah, of course. He'd do anything for his little sister and her best friend," you wink while standing up.

"Wait, now!?" She panics as you make your way down the bleachers. "Y/N!"

You wave her off and make your way towards the dugout. You peek your head around the corner, looking for your twin brother. "Hyunjin," you call out his friend's name, gaining the tall man's attention. "Have you seen Hanji?"

"He's talking to Seungmin in the other dugout," he mentions, and you nod your head.

You slowly walk towards the other dugout, hoping they'll be done conversing by the time you get there. You peek your head around the corner at the same time as Seungmin turns the corner.

You bump into him and lose your footing. A gasp leaves your lips as you begin to fall back. Seungmin's hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you from falling onto your ass. His free hand finds a place on your waist after he pulls you into him.

"Shit, you okay?" He asks, his brown eyes meeting yours. "I didn't see you."

"I-I'm okay," you stutter, expecting something sarcastic to come from his mouth. "I shouldn't have peeked around."

Seungmin chuckles while dropping both hands to his sides. "It's okay. Just be careful," he mentions before walking away from you.

What just happened? You think to yourself, extremely surprised that he was nice. You shake your head and walk further into the dugout, finding Jisung sitting on the bench.

"Hey, loser," you smile, sitting down beside him. He doesn't say anything, and the smile slips from your lips. "Hanji, what's wrong?"

"I-I made a fool of myself," he whispers, a lone tear slipping down his cheek. "The rest of the team laughed at me. So, I'm just…"

"What the fuck," you grow angry, standing from your seat. "We'll see who has the last laugh."

Jisung grabs a hold of your arm, stopping you from doing anything. "It's okay, Y/N. I just talked to Seungmin about it, and he said he'll mention something," he mentions, his round eyes meeting yours. "Can you just sit with me for a minute?"

"Yeah, of course," you mumble, sitting back down. You wrap an arm around his shoulder as the two of you sit in silence. "I'm sorry I made fun of you."

Your brother laughs and shakes his head. "It's okay. I knew you didn't mean it. I just wanted to try and fit in," Jisung sighs, resting his head against the concrete wall.

"Hanji, you should always be yourself. The guys love you just as you are. I love you just as you are," you reassure him. "Don't try to be like the other scumbags. It's not worth it."

Jisung takes your words in, nodding his head after a minute of silence. "Can you do me a favor?" He asks, turning his head towards you. You nod your head, waiting for him to continue. "Can you get along with Seungmin? I would really love for all of us to get dinner after."

"I'll try my best," you cave in, wanting nothing more than to make your brother happy. "Is it okay if Luna comes? I'm trying to hook her up with Channie."

"Oh my god, uh, yes. I've been trying to get him to talk to her!" He slaps your arm out of excitement.

You gasp, widening your eyes. "No fucking way! He likes her!?" You ask in a hushed whisper, not wanting to be too loud.

Jisung nods his head vigorously. "Yes, he does! The boy is fucking smitten," he laughs. "Let's go play matchmaker!"

-

You shiver, not realizing it was supposed to be chilly. You glance around, trying to find your brother before the first game of the season starts.

It's been a few weeks since you went to their practice. Not only have you been hanging out with his friends more, but you and Seungmin have gotten a little closer.

You find Luna talking to Chan, a smile coming to your lips as his hand snakes around her waist. He whispers something into her ear, making the shorter woman giggle.

"I'm so glad the matchmaking worked," you grin, walking towards the school doors.

You walk further into the building, making your way to the boys' locker room. You crack the door open before calling out Jisung's name.

"No one's in there," Seungmin's voice mentions, causing you to jump.

You whip around and place a hand on your heart. "Jesus, Seungmin," you mutter. "You scared the shit out of me."

He laughs while adjusting the baseball cap on his head. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I'm surprised you didn't hear me. The cleats are pretty loud," Seungmin motions to his shoes, both of you glancing down at his feet.

"Sorry, I'm preoccupied," you chuckle, rubbing one of your arms. "Do you know if Hanji's hoodie is in here? I didn't bring a jacket."

Seungmin raises a brow. "You didn't bring a jacket with you? Our games are at night, Y/N," he sighs before going into the locker room. He comes back out almost instantly, pushing a gray hoodie into your hands.

"This isn't Hanji's," you trail off, glancing up at him through your lashes.

"I know. It's mine," he bluntly states, giving you a small smile. "Put it on. I gotta get going."

He walks away from you as you look dumbfounded. He's letting me wear his hoodie? You gently bite your lip and slip the article of clothing on. You inhale the scent of his cologne, and it makes your heart flutter.

You slip your hands into the pocket before making your way back to the bleachers. You find Luna pretty quickly and make your way to her.

"Who's hoodie is that?" She asks you, her eyes dancing between your face and the hoodie.

"Oh, it's Seungmin's," you blush, sitting down beside her.

She lets out a loud gasp, capturing the attention of people around you. "No fucking way," she grins. "You like Seungmin."

"Oh, fuck off," you roll your eyes, looking away from her. You see Seungmin standing on the pitcher's mound, winding his arm up before the game starts. He laughs at something Hanji says, his smile making your stomach flip. "Okay, maybe I do."

Luna smacks your arm. "Girl, go for it. Please go for it. You two would be so fucking cute," she groans, tilting her head back.

"I don't know, maybe," you mumble, keeping your eyes on Seungmin.

The first batter on the opposite team steps onto the field, signaling that the game is starting. Hushed conversations continue to happen around you as Seungmin throws the first pitch.

You cheer a little inside when the batter swings and misses. "Strike," the umpire yells loud enough for everyone to hear. A small group of cheers filled the air.

Hanji throws the ball back to Seungmin before crouching down again. Your fingers play with the hem of his hoodie you're wearing. He throws the ball again, only this time the batter hits it head on.

The ball drives straight into Seungmin's back, hitting him at full speed. Everyone sitting around you gasps as he collapses to the ground, clutching his lower back.

"Seungmin!" You yell, sprinting up from your seat. You tumble down the bleachers as graceful as you can, your hands colliding with the metal fence afterward.

Your twin runs up to him as well as his other teammates. You stand on your toes, trying to see how he's doing. You breathe heavily as Chan and Hyunjin help him up from the ground.

You follow them inside the school, bursting through the locker room doors. Chan's eyes meet yours first. "Y/N, you can't be -"

"I don't care," you cut him off, moving around the wall of lockers to see Seungmin. He's lying on his stomach, the back of his jersey is lifted, and you can see the welt the ball left behind. "Are you okay? Do you need anything?"

Seungmin chuckles and meets your gaze. "I don't need anything, Y/N. Hyunjin went to grab an ice pack," he reassures you, watching you crouch beside him.

You nod your head, resting your arms against your thighs. "It's pretty shitty to be out so quickly," you try to joke with him, not wanting to see him in pain. "You're kind of a shit player."

He rolls his eyes at you, a laugh leaving his lips. "And here I thought we were getting intimate," Seungmin smirks before releasing a wince.

You rest an arm on his back, feeling his warm skin against your fingertips. "Let me go see what's taking Hyunjin so long," you mention and attempt to stand up.

Seungmin stops you from leaving, lacing his fingers with yours. "Stay with me," he whispers.

"Okay," you whisper back, gently falling to your knees.

His eyes are fixed on your conjoined hands, watching your thumb stroke his skin. "I wanna take you out somewhere," Seungmin mentions, flicking his gaze up to you. "If you'll let me."

You nod your head without hesitation, bringing your free hand to his face. "I would love to, Seungmin," you tell him softly, stroking his cheek.

The brunette moves to sit up, and you attempt to stop him. He pushes your hands away before placing both of his hands on your cheeks. Your breath hitches in your throat as he leans in close, his breath fanning your face.

Your eyes flutter shut when his nose brushes against yours. Your stomach does more flips as Seungmin connects his lips with yours. Your hands find their way into his hair, gently combing your fingers through it, slowly moving your lips on his.

"Okay, Seungmin, I got -" Hyunjin starts but quickly cuts himself off. The two of you pull away from each other and glance towards Hyunjin. His eyes are wide, and his lips are parted in shock. "I-I'm sorry."

You chuckle and shake your head. You stand up straight before taking the ice pack from Hyunjin. "I'll take it from here," you tell him, and he nods his head.

"Wear protection," he whispers to you before booking it out of the locker room.

A blush covers your cheeks as your grip on the pack tightens. "What did he say to you?" Seungmin asks, causing you to twirl around.

"Nothing," you squeak. You walk back over to him and gently push him back down onto his stomach.

You stand above his lower body and push up the black and white jersey. You place the ice pack on the welt, earning a hiss from Seungmin.

"Sorry," you apologize, trailing your fingertips up his spine. "Let me buy dinner after."

"No," he answers immediately.

You click your tongue, hating how stubborn he can be. "Let me treat you tonight, and then you can treat me on the next date," you try to negotiate, leaning forward to look him in the eyes.

"Promise?"

You giggle, placing a kiss on his forehead. "I promise."

~

tagging: @thewxntersoldier @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @foxinnie8 @moon0fthenight

[gunilslaugh]

(Gu)Nilly

Summary: Goo Gunil, first he was your senior in high school. Now you work at the same company as him. (non-idol au)

WC:~2.3k 

Warning:none

photo not mine credits to owner.

Your footsteps quickened trying your best to avoid a girl that you had ticked off. You and her were assigned to do a project together, but she decided to have you do all the work for it. Saying that she was sorry, but she was simply too busy with her after school activities. It was clear that she was lying which is why you just so happened to forget to add her name to the project. Now she was pissed and had it out for you. Your steps slowed back down as you looked around not seeing the girl anymore. 

“Bold enough to leave my name off the project, but bold enough to face me.” The girl appeared around the corner. You sighed. 

“You were the one who was too lazy to even write your own name on the project. I shared it with you all you had to do was write your name and you could’ve got credit for my work,” you tell her. The girl scoffs. 

“You really have some nerve. Someone should really put you in your place.” The girl raises her hand, beginning to swing arm to slap you. It was too late for you to move, so you braced yourself for impact, but it never came. 

“What’s going on here?” A voice belonging to a guy asked. You looked to your right to see a guy holding the wrist of the girl who was about to slap you. The girl laughs, putting on a fake smile and tugging her wrist out of the guy’s grasp. 

“Oh nothing is going on, we were just playing around. We’re friends,” she lied. 

“No we’re not,” you said right after. The girl shoots you a fiery glare. “She’s mad because I didn’t write her name for her on a project I did all by myself,” you explained. The guy sends the girl a look, clicking his tongue. He also positions himself slightly in front of you. Putting himself between you and the girl.

“You were gonna hit her because you were too lazy to do your own work?” The guy arched his brow.

“I wasn’t lazy. I was busy,” the girl argued. 

“Did you have time in class to work on the project?” The guy turned to look at you. With eyes much softer than the one he was looking at the girl with. 

“Yeah the teacher gave us four days of class work on it,” you told him. 

“Why didn’t you help them during class then?” he questioned. 

“Well I-” 

“Cause she wasn’t there. She ditched,” you interjected. The guy lets out a sigh. He stands up straighter. 

“Listen”–He folds his arms over his chest– “You’re the one who didn’t do the work. Getting mad at someone for you getting what you deserve is really pathetic. If you wanted the grade you should have at least written your own name. Now leave and if I see you bothering them again I’ll be the one to put you in your place,” he said. Revealing that he had heard the conversation between you two before he stepped in. The girl looked down at her feet quickly scurrying away.

“Thank you,” you thanked him.

“No problem. People like her piss me off. I’m Gunil,” he introduced himself. 

“Y/n,” you introduced yourself back. Before you could say anything else the bell rang signaling that it was time for class. “We should get going,” you say. 

“What class do you have?” Gunil asked. He started to walk alongside you. 

“Biology,” you answered.

“I thought freshmen took biology,” he stated. 

“Tis I,” you partly laughed. 

“You’re a freshman?” Gunil questioned surprised. 

“Yeah, do I not look like one?” you responded.

“Not really. Plus I know that girl is a junior so I kinda thought. 

“Our class together is an elective class. It’s mixed grades,” you inform him. Gunil nods. 

“Well if you need any more help from a senior friend let me know,” Gunil smiled at you. 

“Sure thing, thanks.” Gunil and you part ways. You weren’t really expecting to see him around much after that. 

However you actually ended up seeing Gunil quite often. Gunil wasn’t afraid to wave to you in the halls. He would call out your name to get your attention. If he was far away he would send you a bright smile with an excited wave. If he was only a couple feet away you would pause your steps and he would hurry to catch up to you. The two of you started to form a friendship. 

“You’re big and buff, but you are actually a big softie aren’t you Nilly.” You playfully pet Gunil’s head like he did to the stray cat the two of you came across.

“Nilly? Did you just call me Nilly?” Gunil turned his attention away from the cat and onto you. 

“Yeah why? Do you not like it?” you asked. It’s quite the opposite. Gunil’s heart blossomed with warmth upon hearing the nickname leave your mouth. It made him feel giddy, too giddy. 

“It’s silly,” he chuckled. 

“Like you.” A mischievous smile danced across your lips. “Silly Nilly,” you leaned closer and booped his nose. Then you turned your attention to the cat, petting it gently. Gunil kinda hates how you seem to be so nonchalant about everything while he feels like his heart could combust. Nonetheless he can’t help but look at you so endearingly as you pet the cat. Then he remembers that he is graduating in three months and he doesn’t think that he wants to say goodbye to you. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was the first day of your new job. You would now be working at the front desk as a receptionist for a company. You had just received your name tag and your coworker was currently showing you the ropes. As your coworker is explaining things to you about the computer you hear several pairs of footsteps approach the desk.

“You finally don’t have to man the front desk alone anymore Jungsu,” someone said. 

“Yeah, this is my new front desk buddy, y/n,” Jungsu introduced you. You looked away from the computer to properly greet the company employees. That’s when you lock eyes with him. It’s Gunil, he’s standing right in front of you on the other side of the desk. He’s wearing a button up with nice pants and a lanyard hanging around his neck. It was your first time seeing him in five years. Since he graduated high school. 

“Nilly?” The old nickname fell from your lips. Just like it did all those years ago when you first called him the nickname Gunil’s heart blossoms with warmth. 

“Hi y/n. It’s been a while,” he smiles. 

“You two know each other?” His coworker asked surprised. Pointing between the both of you. 

“We briefly knew each other in high school,” you told them. 

“Yeah, they were my favorite underclassmen,” Gunil said. 

“Underclassmen? Oh I feel sorry for you now. Gunil is so annoying with his ‘You should respect your seniors.’” His coworker puffed out his chest, trying to imitate Gunil’s build. 

“He never said anything like-”

“Because you should respect your seniors and as your seniors I say we get to work now. Have a good day y/n. Treat them well, Jungsu.” Gunil nudges his coworkers to walk away with him. 

“So Nilly?” Jungsu looked at you.

“Yeah it was a nickname I gave him,” you said simply, going back to work. 

“It’s too cute for someone as serious as Gunil,” Jungsu says. 

“What do you mean? Gunil isn’t that serious. He’s a big softie,” you tell Jungsu. 

“Big softie? I really want to get to know this Nilly that you know,” Jungsu states. His words make you feel curious. Has Gunil changed that much since you last saw him? Although it has been five years since you last saw Gunil. Five years is plenty of time for someone to change, but the way he smiled at you didn’t seem any different. 

“Nilly?” Gunil’s coworker Jiseok poked at him. “How does an uptight guy like you get a nickname as cute as Nilly?” 

“They were the only one to call me that and I’m not uptight. I just really care about my work.”

“As curious as I am about how he got the nickname Nilly. I’m more curious about why you looked at y/n like they’re the love of your life. Seriously the way you smiled at them. You had lights shining in your eyes. You looked like a completely different person, maybe Nilly.” Seungmin, Gunil’s other coworker, pointed out.

“Ok, first, stop calling me Nilly.” Gunil points at either of them. “Second, my love life doesn’t concern you. Third, get to work.” Gunil settles himself at his desk. He can’t believe that he has run into you again. He misses you so much after graduating high school. Especially when he found himself in a predicament similar to the one he saved you from him. When he first entered the company he now works at. His higher ups/seniors made him do all of their work then submitted it as if it was their own. Gunil found it to be quite ironic. He saved you from a situation that he now couldn't seem to get out of. Then Gunil thought of a way out. He told his seniors to not worry about submitting, that he would do it for them once he finished. Then he proceeded to submit his work with his name on it. He couldn’t keep the smirk off of his face as their department head came into their office asking why they never turned in any work? Questioning why was Gunil running a one man show? His coworkers were pissed, but Gunil kept up his tough act. He told them off, just like he told that girl off for you years ago. Unfortunately Gunil felt like he couldn’t drop the tough act after that. He felt like if he did then people would try to take advantage of him again. So he made himself a little reputation as a serious, uptight guy.

You couldn’t help yourself from asking Jungsu questions about Gunil. It didn’t make sense to you how the sweet guy you knew in high school was supposedly now uptight and cold. Jungsu was just as curious to hear about the Gunil, Nilly, that you knew. Jungsu was also stunned to hear about how Gunil would call out to you and wave in the halls. The smile you always saw him wearing. How he would walk you to class even if he class was in the opposite direction. The stray cats that he couldn’t walk by without giving them a few pets. That he held back his tears as he told you goodbye. It was if you knew two different people. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Nilly?” You asked Gunil as he was walking you back to your place. He was currently crouching down petting a stray kitten. It reminded you very much of your time back in high school. He was just like your old “Silly Nilly”. 

“Yeah?” He turns away from the kitten to look at you. Butterflies filling his stomach at your use of the nickname. 

“Why do people at the company think you're a serious, uptight person?” You had to hear it from him because other people’s words about him were simply unbelievable to you. Gunil looks back down at the kitten giving it one final pat before standing back up. 

“When I first entered the company…” Gunil proceeds to tell you about the story of his higher ups who took advantage of him. 

“Well if they ever bother you again or anyone else I’ll put them in their place,” you tell him. Gunil can’t fight off the smile of you using the words he once used to protect you. You felt better knowing that he was still your Nilly. The people at work just didn’t know the real him like you did. You bend down to pet the stray kitten that was still hanging around you and Gunil. Now Gunil is the one reminded of high school. Staring at you just as endearingly if not more endearingly as he did back then. It hits him. He doesn’t want to have to say goodbye to you ever again. 

“Y/n,” he calls you. 

“Yeah?” You look up at him. He crouches down beside you. 

“Can I be your Nilly?” he asked, earning a laugh out of you. 

“What are you saying? You already are my Nilly,” you booped his nose. 

“No I mean.” He took your hands in his. “I like you y/n. I always want to be your Nilly,” he says. You smile and readjust your hands to hold his back.

“My answer is still the same. You are my Nilly, always will be.” Gunil smiles and leans his forehead against yours. He has never felt more at peace. He reluctantly removes his forehead from yours and stands up. 

“Come on, let’s get you home.” he held out his hand to you. You gladly take it. 

Bonus Scene:

“Oh my gosh are you seeing this!” Jiseok repeatedly tapped Seungmin. From where they stand looking out the window of their office.

“I’m seeing it,” Seungmin replied, his mouth slightly agape. Gunil has you trapped inside his embrace, pressing kisses all over the top of your head. 

“We have to go to work. Let me go,” you laugh trying to escape his embrace. 

“Work can wait. I haven’t seen you for five years. Let me make up for lost time and hold you.” 

“We’re already here though.” You gestured to your company building. 

“Exactly, we’re not going to be late, so let’s just stay like this for a bit.” He holds you closer to him. 

“People will see,” you say shyly. 

“Let them see. Everyone should know that I’m yours and you’re mine.” He kisses you briefly. 

Jiseok and Seungmin’s eyes widened in shock. 

“That’s not the Gunil we know,” Jiseok states. 

“It’s Nilly,” Seungmin says. Jiseok smiles. 

“Where are my kisses Nilly?” Jiseok shouts from the window.

[iamknicole]

Chapter Two

Warnings: Cursing, bit of smut, 18+ only

Masterlist

Chapter One

The day started almost normally for the couple except Moriah usually joined him when he went to workout or went to class but this time he left her sleeping peacefully in their bed. Being in the performance center felt surreal to him, a part of him felt like he shouldn't be there and he almost turned back around. He spent most of his day seeing doctors and a couple psychiatrists before he even got to look at workout equipment and the rings. 

"You look a lot different without Moriah on your hip," Booker called out with a smile as he approached him, "Lot less nice to look at too. What's going on man? You good? "

Zilla chuckled accepting the hand slap. "I'm good, just got done talkin to the docs and everything. Finally gettin out here to see all this."

"Yeah? And how you feel about all this?" Booker asked, gesturing with his hands. 

He took a moment trying to think through the question, that was the third or fourth time someone had asked but he still didn't have an answer. 

"Honestly," he started with a huff, "I don't know yet. Ask me again at the end of the week, big dog."

"Alright but I want my answer. How's Moriah and your mom? I'm sure they've called a few times already today."

"My mom called this morning and just been texting me. Fat ain't called surprisingly, probably stressing herself out about applying to hospitals and shit."

Booker grunted out a chuckle. "You probably right. I gotta do a few things but ima come back around to check on you. Don't hurt yourself."

After Booker left him, Zilla found a corner to sit in and pulled out his phone. He checked his messages, responding to a few then called his girlfriend. 

"Hey, baby. You okay?" Her voice flowed excitedly through the receiver putting a smile on his face. 

"Yeah, I'm good. Glad to hear your voice, Fat. Thought you would've called me by now."

"I wanted to but I didn't wanna bother you or mess anything up on your first day," she sighed softly, "Plus my mom and dad, mostly my mom, bought a living room set for us and it got delivered a lil bit after you left."

He scrunched his face up at her words. "Living room set?"

"Yup. Sofa, coffee table, TV stand and another TV. My dad said he was tryna talk her out of it because I'd already told him that we had it."

"But Ms. Nadine just couldn't help herself," he chuckled, biting at his low cut nails, "Shit that's alright though. We can call her and thank her later."

"Um, that's okay, Zay. I can just text her a thank you for the both of us. "

He glanced around the empty room as he spoke. "Naah, we can call her. I'd rather say what I gotta say to her than text it."

The line went silent for a moment. 

"What you gonna say?"

"Ima thank her for thinking enough about us to give us a spot to get busy till we get our bed cause that air mattress ain't gon hold up if I fuck you on it."

He laughed loudly at her choking and sputtering that followed his words. While he was laughing and said it jokingly, Moriah knew that given the chance Zilla would absolutely say that to her mother to get under her skin. 

"Isaiah!"

"What?" He laughed. "Can't nobody hear me but you."

She laughed. "You're not talkin to my mama ever cause I know you and you will say it."

"It's the least I can do after she bought us condoms and a sofa. She clearly wanna make sure I'm able to give you what you need so she want me to thank her."

"And what does Zilla think I need?"

"Zilla thinks, nah Zilla know you need some dick. Been what a week? Yeah, that's too long, you gon get all grumpy and shit."

"I hate you, I truly do."

"I see you ain't deny it though. You know Zilla right. Ain't I, Fat?"

Hearing footsteps, Zilla looked up seeing an unfamiliar man standing there with his hands up near his chest,  laughing a bit. 

"My bad, man. Ain't know nobody was in here."

"You straight," Zilla stood from his spot, "I can move around if you needa workout."

"Ion wanna interrupt your call. I know what its like sneaking to make phone calls, them coaches do not play when you supposed to be working out," he chuckled, "Edwin but everybody call me Bronco. It's easier. You Zilla, ain't it?"

The two men shook hands while Moriah cooed into the phone. 

"Yeah that's me. Good to meet you, you like the first actual wrestler I met since I been in this bitch." He chuckled. 

Bronco laughed, going to sit his water jug down. "Felt the same way my first day. All I saw was them damn doctors. You wanna lift with me? It's gon be a minute for somebody else come talk to you."

Zilla thought for a moment then nodded. "Yeah, that sounds cool. Ain't doin shit else. Fat," He called into the phone, taking a small step away, "Ima call you when I get a chance but call or text if you need me. Aight?"

"Awwwee my baby making friends. I'm so proud of your mean ass. You go head I'll be okay."

He laughed, "Doin way too much. Love you."

'Love you too," she giggled, "Go lift with your friend and be nice. Oh and get his number and gamer tag thingy."

"Man," he laughed, "Bye, Fat."

The two set up the weights they were comfortable with on their own leg extensions before starting. Being able to hold a conversation with someone who not too long ago went through the same process he's going through felt like a breath of fresh air. He had talked to plenty of veterans and current superstars but they were far removed from his current situation. It didn't hurt that he was close in age either.

"That was your girl?" Bronco asked, glancing over. 

He finished his rep before answering. "Yeah it was. Was checkin on her since she hadn't called."

"Long distance or she around here?"

"Around here," he chuckled, "Her mean ass wasn't gon let me be too far from her. She like to be up under me."

Bronco laughed a bit. "She mean and clingy? How that work?"

"Honestly hell if I know," he laughed, "She been that way since we was kids. Was mean as hell to me but cried or had a attitude if I left her."

"Oh yall been knowing each other? That's what's up. Yall been together for a minute?"

He shook his head as he did a few more reps. "Nah, it's been a year and a half. We just known each other since we was kids.."

"Damn that's a long ass time and she been mean as hell that whole time?" He joked.

Zilla stopped his reps to laugh. "Man, hell yeah. That's my Fat though." Unable to help himself, he pulled his phone out to show Bronco his lock screen which had a picture of him, her and his mom. "That's her."

"Respectfully, she's beautiful, man. Better hold on tight to her."

"Oh I plan on it. Already told her she ain't goin nowhere."

As he was putting his phone back into his pocket notifications started coming through. When he saw the notifications his smile dropped into a frown. He opened each one, took a screenshot then put his phone away. Although Bronco noticed his slight mood change, he said nothing not wanting to get in his business. 

"Which ones you think look better, Ma?"

Moriah propped her phone up on one of the shelves to hold up three sets of drapes.

"I think my son is gonna get you when he gets home," she laughed. "I'm starting to think he's right about you being hard headed."

After getting off the phone with her boyfriend, Moriah ubered to Target to get more things for their apartment and just like she would if she was still in Texas, Moriah brought Leata with her. Only this time it had to be virtually. 

"Ma," she laughed, "Don't do that. You're supposed to be on my side. Which ones? My arms getting tired."

Leata chuckled. "The sofa is gray so the gray and white ones. Black and red for the bedroom."

She put the selected ones into her buggy then grabbed her phone, continuing her trek through the store and her conversation. 

"And you couldn't do this when he got home, Rye?"

"I wanted to surprise him with a semi decorated apartment, Ma."

"Oh you're gonna surprise him alright. You and I both know he's gonna care about the fact that you did something he asked you not to do."

Moriah thought for a second as she came to a stop to look at dishes. "No, because this is gonna stay between me and you. I'll tell him I had it all delivered."

Leata stared at her trying not to laugh. She was honestly just glad the two of them wouldn't be arguing in her house and she didn't have to play referee. 

"I'm not gonna tell him but if he finds out, I'm not getting in trouble with you, Rye."

Moriah laughed louder than she intended, pressing on from the dishes. "You the mama though. You can just tell him that everything was okay."

"I am but none of my boys know that. Especially not Zilla."

"Well," she laughed, "At least we'll be in trouble together."

"What am I gonna do with you?" She laughed. "Get condoms while you're in there, Moriah. I don't care how many you have, you can always have more."

Moriah felt her skin heat up and she mumbled an 'okay'.

"Oh now she's quiet," Leata joked. "You act like I have no idea what you and my son do. Like the two of you weren't in my house doing it."

She laughed. "Yeah but remember I said we call it Bruno and don't talk about it. We just act like it doesn't happen."

It was Leata's turn to laugh. "Oh please, Rye. Get the condoms or we're really gonna have to talk about you expecting."

"Aht. No. We would just call that immaculate conception and leave it at that."

In the hours Moriah waited for the arrival of her boyfriend, she put away the groceries she had delivered, hung drapes in their bedroom and living room, hung up their pictures around their apartment and put the decorations she'd gotten around their living room. She had gotten him a gift for his first day at the PC, left it wrapped on their new sofa while she started on dinner. 

It was a little after 6 p.m. when Zilla came through the door. He dropped his bag near the door then headed to the breakfast bar where he dropped his keys. Stopping what she was doing, Moriah went to him with a big smile on his face and jumped on him excitedly. He offered no movement to hold onto her nor did he kiss her back when she placed her lips on his. Instead he stared at her. 

"I missed you, baby. How was your day? You tired?" She smiled, her arms and legs still wrapped around him. 

"It was straight. No, I'm not tired." 

He tapped her hip, letting her know he wanted her to get down and she did. After staring at him for a moment, she grabbed his hand turning him back to the living room. 

"So this is what my parents got. My dad said he picked the sofa because she tried to be funny again and pick a small one. Like it?" Moriah chuckled. "I decorated a little to make it feel like a home for us. I got us drapes for in here and our bedroom. Our pictures are up."

Zilla looked around, nodding as he did. His nostrils flared slightly. "I see. I'm finna take a shower. I'll be back," he informed as he pulled his hand away from hers. 

She laughed a little, "Oh you're not gonna ask if I need anything before you get in?"

He chuckled a bit, rubbing his hands together. "Nah, you pretty good at gettin what you need. You got it."

With that, he went to their bedroom, closing the door behind him. She thought to go behind him but decided against figuring being at the PC conjured up some deep feelings and he needed time to himself. She grabbed his bag from the floor, took it to their laundry closet and deposited most of it into the washer. Once the machine was running, she went back to cooking Zilla's actions were mostly forgotten. She knew eventually he would apologize and explain himself, she wasn't exactly worried. 

Thirty minutes later, he was back leaning against the breakfast bar watching his girlfriend quietly. His phone sat unlocked on the bar in front of him. She turned around to grab a paper towel and screamed, her hand clutched over her heart. 

"You scared the shit outta me, Zay. You need a bell," she fussed, playfully. "Why you just standing there looking at me?"

He continued to stare at her, trying to carefully put his words together in his head. 

"Seriously, you're being weird. What's wrong with you?"

He took a moment before responding.

"How you got all that?" He asked gesturing towards the living room. 

She turned the pots down on low then gave him her attention. "My parents bought that, Zay. You don't remember me telling you that?"

"I ain't talkin about that. I'm talkin about everything else."

"Oh," she giggled, "Thought you had a concussion. I ordered it from Target this morning. And some stuff from Walmart when I ordered the groceries."

He stared at her. "Yeah?"

"Uuh yeah. The rest of the stuff was in the gifts we got before we left Texas."

Pulling up his earlier screenshots, he turned his phone around and slid it across the counter to her. He watched her look between him and his phone. 

"Swipe left," he requested calmly, "It's three of em." He chuckled watching her face go from confused to nervous as she swiped through the uber confirmation, her location notification, and the target transaction on their bank account. "Ima ask again. How you got that?"

She pouted. "I was tryna surprise you."

"Surprise me by doin some shit I asked you not to do, Moriah? That's a helluva surprise. If that's ya idea of a surprise then I don't want no more from you."

"But, Zay, it was quick and nobody bothered me. And I'm Fat."

He squinted at her. "You think I give a damn about that? I asked you not to fuckin do it and you did it anyway, Moriah. How you thought I wasn't gon know? You used our bank account not yours, we share the uber account and we share our locations." 

She played with her fingers as he fussed at her. She wanted to say something but didn't know what to say that wouldn't make things worse. 

"What if something happened to your ass and I was at the PC? Who was gonna come get you?" He asked, hitting the counter. "The fuck was I gon do and I wasn't with you?"

It finally clicked for Moriah. She had scared him. 

"I didn't mean to scare you, Zilla. I didn't think about it like that."

He stared at her, his jaw clenching and nose flaring. "I clearly said I ain't want you gettin in no strange ass car yet you did that shit anyway. Ain't no surprise worth ya life, Moriah."

"I know, I just," his voice cut her off.

"No!" He barked, making her take a step back. "You don't know cause you did it anyway! Your mom already think I can't fuckin take care of you and you go and do that shit! I ain't move us to the other side of the country to lose ya lil ass just cause you hard headed, Moriah!"

Taking a chance, she moved around the bar to hug him. She hugged him tight, her head laid on his chest but just as when he'd gotten home, he made no move to return the affection. He let her hug him for a minute then pulled her arms from around him. 

"Watch out," he said softly. 

She tried to hug him again, only to be stopped. "I'm sorry, Zay. Just let me hug you."

"Forreal, Moriah, watch out." He put her hands by her side then grabbed his phone and went to their bedroom, closing and locking the door behind him.

Lying across their air mattress, he facetimed his mother. He was pretty sure that she knew what Moriah had done but he still wanted to talk to her. She answered with a smile until she saw him glaring at her. 

"Well hello to you too, son."

"You knew she went?"

"Hey, mom. How was your day? That's what normal children say to their mamas."

He huffed. "Hey, Ma. How was your day?"

"It was good. Thank you for asking, son. How was yours?" She asked with a slight brow raise. 

"It was good till I found out your daughter can't follow directions."

She chucked. "I told her that you were gonna find out."

"So you did know she went."

"Of course I did. Who do you think she took with her?" She deadpanned. "I talked to her from the moment she started getting ready until she finished putting things up when she got back."

He felt somewhat relieved about that but he was still pretty upset. 

"I asked her not to do that, told her that she could just drop me off and take the car but no. Just had to be hard headed like always."

"So if you know she's always hard headed, which by the way so are you, then why are you upset?" She asked. 

"Because, Ma."

She stared at him. "Because what, son?"

"If something happened to her that would've been on me. What was I gon do without her mean ass?" He chuckled, starting to calm down. 

"Okay so when you asked her not to do it, did you tell her why you didn't want her to do it?"

"No but I shouldn't have to. Me askin her not to do it shoulda been enough."

Leata chuckled seeing the serious expression on his face. "Okay so knowing that she's hard headed, like you, you told her not to do something without giving her a reason. A reason that more than likely would've deterred her from doing it. I got that right?"

Huffing again, Zilla sat quietly thinking over her words. "When you put it like that, I get it but this ain't my fault, Ma. It's hers. She shouldn't have went."

"And that's true, she shouldn't have went but you also should've told her how you felt." She explained softly. "If you would've told her that you were afraid something would happen to her if she went, do you think she would've gone?"

"No."

"So then it sounds like you both have some fault in this, Zilla."

"I guess so, Mama."

"Now go talk to her and you're gonna apologize for yelling at her. You know better than that."

He frowned. "How you know I yelled at her?"

"Oh please, you think you're the only one who ran to me? She's been texting me this whole time," she laughed, "She knows her fault and now you know yours. Get in there and apologize."

"I'm goin, I'm goin," he said as he pushed himself up from the air mattress. 

"Thank God I'm not there. I love yall."

After hanging up with mom, Zilla took a second to get himself together before going back out to face his girlfriend. Seeing her curled up on the sofa in tears softened him up. He went to kneel in front of the sofa where she was, wiping the tears away from her face.

"Are you melting or are these tears?" He joked. 

She laughed a little through her tears as she sat up. "I'm melting. I'm also sorry. I should've respected your wishes and not done that."

He nodded, standing up from his position he pulled her up from the sofa and into his arms. He kissed her forehead, swaying them gently. 

"I accept your apology and I apologize for yelling and for my part." He spoke softly. "I should've told you how I felt. I can't lose you, I wouldn't know what the hell to do without your mean ass. I wanna keep you around for as long as I can, baby."

"I understand that now. Thank you for telling me."

He leaned down to capture her lips in a deep kiss. "You welcome. You still cookin'?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm finished. Hungry?"

He smirked as he lifted her up into his arms. "Yeah but not for that."

She gasped softly. "You don't wanna open your gift first?"

"If it ain't you inside that bag, it can wait." He responded, dropping her gently onto the sofa and climbing on top of her. "I'm more interested in breakin in this sofa Ms. Nadine got us."

Moriah squealed out a laugh as he buried his face in her neck. "You're still not talking to her. I didn't forget."

"Not yet I'm not," he responded biting her neck, "Gonna test this out first then give her a accurate review."

She giggled, "We need a condom, Zay."

Not stopping his kissing and biting on her neck, he pulled one from the pockets of his basketball shorts and held it up so she could see. 

"Always prepared," she joked softly. 

Moriah's moans mixed with the smacking of their skin and Zilla's groans and cursing echoed loudly throughout the apartment. He held a tight grip on her hip with one hand and the other landed smacks to her backside. 

"I can't hear you, Fat." He called out as he delivered deep strokes. "Say that shit louder."

With her face buried in the decor pillow, her voice came out muffled. He was sure of what she was saying but that was good enough for him. Keeping his hand on her waist the other traveled up her back to her neck and wrapped around her throat. He pulled her up, keeping the arch in her back, never slowing his stroke. 

"Say it again, Fat," he spoke softly into her ear as he squeezed her throat lightly, "And I might let you cum."

She groaned softly, meeting his thrusts as best she could. 

"Fuck, baby."

Slowing his strokes, he chuckled in her ear and held her hips steady to stop her own movements. "That's not it, baby. Try again."

"I'm sorry, Zay," she whined trying to move, "Fuck, I'm so sorry."

"That's my girl. Shit, there you go," he groaned. 

Quickening his strokes again, he reached down rubbing her clit to help push her over the edge. He spoke softly in her ear, talking her through her release. 

"After we eat, we can facetime Ms. Nadine." Zilla laughed, taking a bite of his taco.

"Isayah, I will knock that taco outta your hand," she laughed, "Stop that."

"What kind of son in law would I be if I ain't tell her how the sofa worked out for us? Enough room for both of us, enough room for you to run or try anyway. And this bitch ain't move at all and throw off my stroke. Shit, I give it a ten outta ten, Fat."

Laughing, he moved his plate when she tries to swipe it out of his hand. She pushed his shoulder playfully. 

"I really hate you, Fatu."

He laughed harder. "That ain't what you was sayin' ten minutes ago but I could be wrong. Maybe I should ask our neighbors cause I'm sure they heard you."

"Shut up talkin to me," she laughed going to grab his gift, "I shouldn't give your ass nothing since you like annoying me. But here, happy first day."

Sitting his plate on the coffee table, he took the gift from her and stole a kiss. He shook it playfully. 

"Mmm, my baby got me something," he said as he tore the paper off the box then opened it, "Damn … you ain't have to do this, Fat."

A proud smile spread across her face as she watched his face light up. Before they left Texas she got a blanket made for him with pictures of him and his family on one side and on the other pictures of him and her to give to him on his first day. 

"It's for when you're on the road and you miss us. We'll always be with you." She explained as she watched him go over each picture of him and his family, noticing he lingered on the pictures of him and his dad. "You like it, Zay?"

"Love it. I love it," he put it in his lap and pulled her into a tight hug, "I love you. Thank you, pretty girl. I appreciate this."

"You're welcome. So … can I know about your day now?" 

Chuckling, he held onto the blanket as he took her through his first day. He told her about the doctors he had to talk to, the tours and the talks he had with Hunter, Shawn and Booker.

"That sounds fun, like you had a good day, babe. Did you see your friend anymore?"

He laughed, "I just met em, he not my friend."

"But he will be, I already know. So did you see em or not?"

"You just gon make me be friends with em," he chuckled. "But nah I ain't seen em but he sent me his number on Instagram."

"Awwwe, see? Friends!"

"Anyway, you applied to any hospitals today?"

"I did. Three of them. There's one close to the performance center, I'm kinda hoping I get that one but they want at least 3 years experience."

He shrugged, "They want that but that don't mean they won't pick you. You got good references and shit. And if they don't pick you, I'll make em."

"Baby," she laughed, "You can't do that but thank you for offering."

"Of course. Don't worry about cleanin up, I got it tonight. You go get ready for bed."

She squinted, "You want something, what is it?"

He got up from the sofa, carefully placing the blanket on it then gathered their dishes. "Ion want nothin, fat head You just need to get some sleep."

"Why is that? I don't have nowhere to go tomorrow."

He leaned down to kiss her forehead then headed to their kitchen, throwing his answer over his shoulder. 

"Cause ima wake you up before I leave in the morning."