#which i’m trying to not let get to my head or ego or whatever
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thatone-churro · 2 days ago
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finished that conference with my professor about the poe paper. i don’t think i’ve ever had a professor that actually seemed almost impressed with a paper i wrote with virtually no guidance like this since like… my high school sophomore year ap research project. wow.
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evansbby · 6 months ago
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𝐖𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒☆.。.:*
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𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐕 - 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐲 𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐛
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: mean jock!Ari Levinson x naive!reader, mean jock!Steve Rogers x naive reader
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smutt, dubcon, daddy!kink, size difference, innocence kink, HEAVY MENTIONS OF ALCOHOL AND DRUG CONSUMPTION, mentions of depression, mentions of self-medication, seriously, if you're sensitive about that kind of stuff please do not read, 18+ only, minors dni!
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You're done with both Ari and Steve. But they're not quite done with you...
𝐀/𝐍: Here it is. Again, I'm putting up a disclaimer: Please beware of the strong mentions of irresponsible alcohol and drug consumption in this chapter. Also be aware of the depictions of depression in this chapter. Stay safe & only read what you are comfortable with. This is a dark story. This is chapter 4 of Wicked Games. It is 33.6k words. Enjoy, besties!
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Steve: Hey. Look, I’m really sorry about what happened yesterday. Things got out of control and I really did not mean to scare you. Could we talk in person?
Steve: I did plan a date for us. I know you don’t believe me, but I did. For whatever that’s worth. Look, just text me back, okay? Or answer my calls.
Steve: Sometimes I just get like that. Even if you don’t understand, just reply and say you’ll talk to me. I’ll explain everything. Please.
Steve: Can’t you see I’m trying? I want us to work.
Steve: It wasn’t just about sex to me. I know that’s what it looked like but it wasn’t.
Steve: ?????
Each time your phone pings with a new text, you feel a stronger urge to just throw it out the window. Oh, why couldn’t he just leave you alone? You feel awful and on edge, the night’s sleep had done you absolutely no good. You’d tossed and turned the whole time, crying and feeling sad about how terribly your “date” had gone down yesterday. How you’d been used. How it was all just about sex for him, no matter what he claimed.
Your phone starts pinging again.
Ari: Are you okay?
Ari: You need to tell me exactly what he did to you. I’ll set him straight, I promise. I just need to know what he did.
Ari: You were really worked up yesterday so I gave you your space but I’m worried. And pissed off. Just answer me.
Ari: Pick up your phone.
Ari: I’m coming over.
No, no, no. You don’t want him to come over. You don’t want to see either of them. To hell with their mood swings and cocky egos and fake concern for you. Now you know there was only one thing that men like Ari and Steve truly ever wanted from you – sex. Fuck them both. If Ari came over now, you’d scream your head off and not let him in again.
You were done. Completely and irrevocably done. Not just with Ari and Steve, but with men and relationships in general. You were going to make a solemn vow to yourself that from now on, that–
A sudden knocking on your door interrupts your thoughts. Pressing your lips into a thin line, you feel the anger surge through you. Who the fuck was that? Ari? He’d only just sent his last message a minute ago – how was he already here?
A wave of anxiety overtakes you suddenly… What if it was Steve?
Another knock. But it sounds a lot softer than Ari’s usual loud banging – which was what he did on days where he’d forget your dorm key at home.
“Y/N?” You hear a faint, familiar voice from the other side of the door. “Are you there?”
Huh. That was definitely not Steve or Ari…
It takes you about five seconds to haul yourself off your bed and across the room. You open the door cautiously, only to find Sharon standing there. Her face is swollen, red and blotchy, her shiny and usually pristinely styled hair scraped back in a low, sad ponytail. Not a trace of makeup on her face, and she’s wearing a loose, wrinkled St. Andrews sweatshirt instead of her usual cheerleading uniform.
“Ari broke up with me!” She bursts into tears, pulling you into a hug that you have no choice but to return. And the guilt is immediate, spreading throughout your body, thrumming through your bloodstream along with dread. Of course, you knew Ari had dumped her… for you.
“Oh, Sharon…” you mumble against her sweatshirt, a huge lump forming in your throat, “I’m so, so sorry.” Sorrier than you realise…
Sharon sniffles, “I know we’re not really close, but I just didn’t know who else to talk to about this. All my friends are also his friends, or girlfriends of his friends, and…and…and I just needed someone who was my friend, and not his, and–” She breaks out into a fresh wave of tears, hugging you tightly again, burying her face in your neck as she cries. You awkwardly pat her shoulder, feeling like the world’s worst person.
“Come in,” you say reluctantly. Sure, you had your own problems, but you weren’t just going to leave her crying out in the hallway, were you? Especially not since you were basically the reason for her tears.
She smiles weakly, “Thank you.”
You manage to quickly type out a message to Ari while she isn’t looking:
Sharon’s here. Don’t come over. And stop texting me.
“It just came so out of nowhere,” she says, following you into your room and sitting on the edge of your bed, “Well, we weren’t having sex like how we used to but I just assumed he was stressed about basketball or something.”
“Wait, the two of you weren’t having sex?” You blurt out a tad too eagerly, but she doesn’t seem to notice. You sink down beside her, “I mean… wow… so you guys weren’t being – uh – intimate?”
Sharon shakes her head, using the sleeve of her sweatshirt to wipe her eyes, “Not for, like, the past month. But I really didn’t think he was cheating on me… But he basically told me he was dumping me because there was someone else.”
Your heart jumps up to your throat, “H-He said that?”
“Yeah. Well, at first, he kept saying the whole ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ crap.” She snorts, aggressively twining a loose strand of her blonde hair round and round her pointer finger, “But I told him to be honest and just tell me straight up, and I was yelling and so upset and finally he said that there was someone else. Can you believe that?”
Your hands feel clammy, the guilt and anxiety churning around in your stomach like a witch’s cauldron. Should you tell her now? Tell her that you’re the reason her boyfriend dumped her? That you’d been sleeping with Ari behind her back for months? Oh God… You were an awful person, weren’t you? Well, you hadn’t known about Sharon at first… and back then you were innocent enough to believe Ari when he said he’d broken up with her. But you’d wisened up to that and still had sex with him at the party, hadn’t you?
You gulp, “Sharon, there’s something–”
“And can you believe that for a split second I thought it was you?” She says suddenly, her eyes wide and unblinking.
Your blood freezes, “I, I–”
“I know, I know… Totally ridiculous, right?” She laughs. And you’d expected her laugh to be all cute and twinkly and perfect how she is, but it’s low and hoarse and ironic. She squeezes your arm, “I hate that my mind even went there. I don’t know you that well but I just know you wouldn’t do that to me, Y/N.”
“Sharon–”
 “It’s just that one time, at that basketball practice when the ball hit your face. The way Ari carried you off… I just got this feeling in my gut, you know?” She laughs again, “But that was just Ari being Ari, stepping up and taking charge of a situation when no one else would. And it’s awful of me to even think you’d do something like that when you’d just got struck in the face and were probably in a lot of pain. Gosh, I’m so sorry for even thinking it!”
She hugs you again. You can smell her sweet perfume, and it goes straight to your head, making you feel sick. Or maybe it’s the guilt eating away at your insides that’s making you feel sick.
“There’s something I have to tell you–”
“–We were together for almost a whole year, you know?” Sharon cuts you off again. “I was gonna take him home for Thanksgiving and everything.” She’s still hugging you, and her cheek rests against the bare nape of your neck. You weren’t used to being this touchy with your girlfriends, but you continue to pat her back nonetheless, feeling like the world’s most awful person ever.
“He’s just the world’s most awful person ever!” She cries, “Like he threw our relationship away like it was nothing! And I was so good to him, Y/N!”
“I know, I know,” you say softly. You feel a wave of disgust for Ari overtake you, but the disgust you feel at yourself overshadows it completely.
“But maybe it’s for the best,” She sits up suddenly, her eyes wide and glistening, an almost daring look on her face, your hand still encased in hers. “Maybe me and Ari weren’t meant to be, and he was just a stupid phase in my life.”
“He’s just a fuckboy,” you agree truthfully, despite feeling rotten over your role in all of this. “You can do so much better than him, Sharon.”
She nods, “Yeah, I think so too. I mean, he’s super hot and all, but…” And then she pauses, looking at you with a curious expression. She bites her lip, still holding on to your hand. “Maybe this is too much information, but lately, even when I was, you know, taking care of myself… I wouldn’t think of him. I’d think of someone else.”
“That’s good!” You say enthusiastically. “Who were you thinking of? Like an actor or singer or something? Or a cute guy in one of your classes?”
She stares at you a bit longer, before suddenly dropping her gaze, “Yeah, something like that. Anyways, thank you so much for being there for me, Y/N. I know I just barged into your room unannounced.”
At that moment, your phone vibrates. Once, twice, three times. More texts. You’re thankful you left your phone facedown; in case they were from Ari and she saw.
“That’s probably Steve, isn’t it?” Sharon says.
You nod quickly, suddenly in a hurry to stop talking about Ari, “Yeah. They’re all from him. He’s been texting me nonstop since last night when me and him had a fight.”
“Oh no. Is everything gonna be okay?”
You shake your head tersely, not wanting to talk about the disastrous date. “No. Me and him are over. Forever.” And so are me and Ari.
Sharon nods, giving you another hug. “Men are trash. I’m so glad we have each other, Y/N. I’m so happy we’re friends now.”
You swallow harshly, hoping the guilt isn’t so evident on your face. Inside your head, there’s about a million different thoughts racing each other. Should you tell her about Ari now? Or wait till later when she was more distanced from the situation and less distraught? Oh God, it was like problems followed you wherever you went! First Steve, then Ari, and now Sharon was in the mix too. And the worst part was, how kind she was being. How genuinely good she was and how she didn’t deserve to be lied to in the least.
I’ll tell her, you promise yourself. I swear I’ll tell her soon…
***
“You need to stop moping around so much,” Wanda says as the two of you walk down the corridor after a lecture. Well, she walks. You just drag your feet. It’s been two days since the “date” with Steve and the subsequent scene with Sharon in your dorm room, and your emotions have been all over the place.
“Like okay, so the Steve thing didn’t work out. It’s not the end of the world, is it? Just get over it.” Wanda continues scanning the crowd of people in the hallway.
“I just feel like nobody wants a relationship with me, Wanda.” You say softly. “All they ever seem to want is sex.”
“Huh? Yeah, that really sucks,” she says distractedly, standing on her tip-toes to look over the sea of heads all milling around or heading to their next class. “Where’s Curtis? He agreed to meet me here.”
Your stomach drops. Curtis again? Oh, you hope Ari’s not with him! You’d successfully been able to avoid him since the night he’d left your dorm room, and you didn’t want to break that streak now.
Wanda spots her boyfriend a moment later and squeals, jumping up and down trying to get his attention. Thankfully, he isn’t with Ari. But he is standing in a cosy corner of the corridor, deep in conversation with a tiny brunette cheerleader. You watch as she laughs at something he said and puts her hand on his chest.
You glance warily at Wanda, but she still has that determined bright smile on her face as she charges over to him, pulling you along with her.
“Curtis! Hey!” She wraps her arms around his neck territorially, plastering her lips on his. The cheerleader smirks, and you see her wink at him before she leaves. Only then does Curtis finally give his girlfriend some attention. You stand there, awkwardly staring at your shoes for the next five minutes while they noisily kiss next to you.
“You still in a bad mood, sweetheart?” Curtis grins once the two of them finally break apart.
“She’s always in a bad mood,” Wanda interjects before you can respond, “Hey, Curtis, you wanna check out the new drive-in theatre downtown? I don’t have any more classes today and I know you don’t either.”
Curtis yawns, “I don’t know. I kinda just wanna chill today.”
“Oh. That’s fine too, I guess. You wanna just grab lunch on campus?”
“Nah. I think I’ll just head back home. I have stuff to do.”
Wanda nods, “Okay, can I come too?”
He shrugs, “Sure. If you must.”
They start towards the exit, and you have no choice but to follow them. But when Wanda stops to talk to one of the girls in her Philosophy class, Curtis shoots you a smirk.
“Sweetheart, why don’t you come back to my place too?”
You frown, “What would I do in your room with you and Wanda?”
The spark in his eye is nothing short of devilish, “I could think of a few things the three of us could get up to.”
“You’re disgusting, Curtis.”
“You sure about that? I have some more of those magic pills you’re such a huge fan of. The three of us could have some fun.” His eyes rake over your body brazenly, and you feel the urge to throw up. So, it was true. All men viewed you as an easy hook-up. A slut. Ari, Steve, now Curtis too.
“What the hell is wrong with you? Wanda is your girlfriend and you should have more respect for her.”
He rolls his eyes, “You’re one to talk about respecting girlfriends.”
The jab stings, especially since it has a ring of truth to it. But you glare up at him nonetheless, “Fuck you.”
“Are you and Ari both perpetually in a bad mood these days or what?”
“I’m not speaking to Ari, so I wouldn’t know what kind of mood he’s in.” You answer curtly.
“He’s in a shitty mood, I’ll tell you that much,” Curtis snorts. “You’d think he’d be over the fucking moon after finally dumping Sharon, but now all he does is glare at his phone because you won’t answer his texts.”
Sure, Ari had been continuously texting and calling you for the past two days, but you’d gotten better at ignoring him. The last text you’d sent him was when you’d told him not to come over because Sharon was there.
“Are we ready to go, babe?” Wanda asks, waving goodbye to the girl from her Philosophy class.
Curtis stretches and grunts, “Yeah, let’s go,” He looks over at you, “You need a lift to wherever you’re headed?”
“No, she doesn’t!” Wanda interjects quickly, grabbing his hand and tugging him towards the exit impatiently, “You wanted to be alone, didn’t you, Y/N?”
You shrug, “Sure.”
Watching them leave hand in hand, you stand there in a sea of people – and yet you feel more alone than ever. You know you need to snap out of this funk, but it’s so hard. Even now, as you look around, you can see about five different couples. All happily hanging out, talking, eating lunch together, kissing, holding hands. Would you ever experience anything normal like that?
You’re about to leave when someone grabs your wrist, yanking you sideways. You yelp, barely catching a glimpse of Ari’s brown waves before you’re pulled into an empty corridor.
“Ari! What the fuck–”
“Stop it with the ignoring my texts shit!” He spits out, eyes already blazing, “I’ve been worried sick about you.”
“Let go of me.”
Surprisingly, he does. But he blocks your path with his huge frame, stepping in front of you every time you try to push past him. This continues for a solid minute and a half before you finally huff and give up trying to escape.
“I went to see Steve that night.” Ari says finally.
Your stomach churns at the mention of the blonde’s name.
“I don’t want to hear this.”
“He wasn’t at home. And the other guys in his frat wouldn’t say where he was,” he runs a hand through his hair, “But I’m guessing he was probably hiding out at his parent’s house.”
That was exactly where he was. You knew that.
“Please tell me you didn’t go there.”
Ari regards you closely, as if you’re made out of glass and he’s trying to formulate his sentences as carefully as he can. “I didn’t,” he says finally, sighing, “I was about to, but–”
“Good,” you interrupt, “I don’t need you fighting him or whatever. Not on my behalf.” You narrow your eyes, “How do you even know where his parents’ house is?”
He hesitates, “I don’t know off the top of my head, but I would’ve found out.” He grabs your hands, his blue eyes looking earnest, which is a look you aren’t used to seeing on him at all. “He’s clearly avoiding me, but look, the sooner you tell me what exactly happened between you and him, the sooner I’ll deal with it.”
From over his shoulder, you see a group of cheerleaders walk by. In a panic, you snatch your hands away from him. Was Sharon with them? Had she seen you with him? No. She wasn’t there. And yet now you feel more paranoid than ever.
“We can’t do this, Ari,” you mutter, trying to sidestep him again, “We can’t be seen together now or ever again, so just move so I can leave–”
“No.”
“Yes!” you try not to explode or lose your patience, “This isn’t right, okay? You and me, we’re not right. Sharon doesn’t deserve us going behind her back, she doesn’t–”
“I told you, I broke up with her.”
“That doesn’t make any of this okay, so just move!”
He doesn’t. Instead, he grabs your arm again, tugging you somewhere deep into the corridor before you have a chance to stop him or finish your sentence. And he’s too strong to fight against, so you don’t even try it. The last thing you want is to put any more attention on you or him. Even if Sharon wasn’t around, one of her friends could see you with him and report back to her. And after everything that happened with you and Sharon, you wanted to come clean to her yourself, rather than have her hear about you sleeping with her boyfriend behind her back from somebody else.
“The supply closet? Really, Ari?” You plant your hands on your hips, watching as he shuts and locks the door of the dimly lit room.
He shrugs, “If it’ll get you to stop running away from me...”
“Well, why can’t you just get the message? I’m running for a reason.” You try to push past him, but the closet is way too small to allow that type of movement. He easily grabs your waist and lifts you back in front of him, making you scowl. “Look, I don’t know what you expected would happen between us when you dumped Sharon, I already told you we’re done. She doesn’t deserve this.”
Ari has the audacity to look confused, “Since when do you care about her?”
“Since I developed a brain and realised what we did behind her back for months was wrong!” You explode, hating the fact that you have to spell this out for him. “You know that she came to my dorm room the day after you dumped her? She was a mess, Ari! All because of us, and she doesn’t even know it!”
 He sighs, “If you want, I could come clean to her and tell her it was you who I was sleeping with. You shouldn’t have to deal with that, it’s my problem, anyways.”
“No, you don’t say anything, Ari! I’m going to tell her myself.” Soon.
“Okay, but trust me, don’t worry about her too much. She’s a strong girl, she’ll bounce back.”
You stare at him incredulously. Strong girl? Bounce back? Oh, he was infuriating!
“Whatever, Ari.” You mutter, once more trying to push past him but he places you back in front of him with such ease that it’s almost comical.
“What happened to you that day with Steve?” He asks again, his brow furrowed.
“It’s none of your business.”
He scoffs, folding his arms over his chest. “You came home in tears with your dress all torn up and you expect me to just go about my business as if all that was nothing?”
“Yes. It shouldn’t be too hard for you considering you’ve left me in tears yourself a couple of times.” You think back to the frat party, how he’d left you drunk, high and in tears in the bathroom. By the guilt that flashes in Ari’s eyes, he remembers too.
“I told you I was sorry about that.”
You shrug, “Whatever. It doesn’t matter anyways. You used me, and Steve used me too.” Your voice almost breaks but you clear your throat quickly, not wanting to cry in front of him.
“What do you mean Steve used you?” Ari grabs your shoulders with a note of urgency. “Did he do something you didn’t want to do? Did he fuck you? Goddamit, I told you not to speak to him!”
Shaking out of his grasp, you feel another flash of anger. The same flash you’d felt surge through you the night you’d kicked Ari out of your dorm room. A part of you wants to start yelling and screaming again, but you know you can’t do that here.
“What does it matter, anyways?” You snap, feeling the walls building up around you. Half of you wants to scream and the other half wants to curl up and cry. The two emotions swirl inside you like a whirlpool, making you feel lightheaded.
A handful of seconds go by and all Ari does is stare at you. You can hear him breathing hard, almost erratically, as if deciding his next move. Finally, he bends down so his face is level with yours, his hands leaving your shoulders to cup your cheeks instead. His eyes, so bright blue despite the dark mustiness of the supply closet, bore into yours so intensely.
“Did. He. Fuck. You?”
“No.”
“Did he hurt you?”
You don’t answer, instead staring at the dark nothingness beyond Ari’s shoulder. Maybe if you focused on it hard enough, you could dissociate and float away from this situation. Float away from anyone else who could hurt you or use you or manipulate you. Float away from the guilt, the shame, the sadness, all of it.
Instead, you feel the wind being knocked out of you as Ari roughly pushes you against what feels like a shelf. The wooden edges poke against your back, and your mouth curls in pain.
“Listen to me. I’m not fucking around anymore, okay? You need to tell me what happened right fucking now.” Ari growls, his face inches from yours. It seems like someone’s ignited a fire in his eyes, twin fires – one burning bright in each eye, and you can practically feel the heat of his anger radiating from his being.
“You’re hurting me!” You cry out pitifully.
Like a hot poker, Ari drops you immediately, regret seeping through his features before he takes a deep breath.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just…” He pauses, and for a second his whole face screws up and contorts, like he’s inwardly examining every corner of his brain to conjure up the right thing to say. “Look, I care about you. A lot. And these past two days have been torture, knowing that he did something to you and I couldn’t protect you.”
He sounds sincere, but you know it’s all an act. He doesn’t mean it, he’s only trying to be nice so he can have sex with you later, the voice inside your head cackles.
“So just tell me what he did, and I’ll–”
 “WHAT PART OF IT DO YOU WANT TO KNOW, ARI?” You burst, “What part of the whole ugly thing would you like me to relive first? The part where he promised he’d take me out on a date but he took me to his bedroom instead?” You duck your head in shame, “I suppose I should be used to that by now, but I was stupid enough to let myself hope.”
Ari draws his breath but stays silent.
“Or would you rather I tell you everything he said? Down to the last fucking detail? How he basically implied that I was the world’s biggest slut?” This time, you can’t keep the tears at bay. “H-He said… He said I should stop acting like a nun because I had no problem with you fucking me at the party!”
You don’t mention the part where Steve had also said you’d had no problem spreading your legs for Steve too the night of the party. You have yet to come to terms with and address that little detail, and so you push it back to the depths of your mind for now. Ari couldn’t know about that, not when you didn’t know yourself.
Instead, your face crumples up, and before you realise it, you’re heaving with tears. Waterfalls pouring down your cheeks as you cry and cry. You don’t even notice Ari picking you up, you don’t notice him sitting down on a nearby stool and holding you in his lap. Carefully holding your head against his chest, rocking you back and forth as his other hand rubs up and down your back.
So much for all your bravado, so much for keeping up a strong front and resisting Ari at all costs. Here you were again, crying in his arms like you always ended up doing.
“H-He was so awful!” you sob, burying your head deep in Ari’s shirt, inhaling the manly scent of his aftershave, and it calms your hurting heart a little bit. But not enough. “He said all these mean things, and he…he wouldn’t stop, Ari! I k-kept saying no, but he wouldn’t listen at all! It was like something came over him!”
You fist the soft material of Ari’s jersey, taking comfort in the feel of his strong arms wrapped tightly around you. His familiar, manly scent and his soft hair tickling your face as he holds you carefully against him. And despite everything, you can’t help but note how strange this is. Of course, Ari had held you while you cried about a dozen times – but this seemed different. For one, he wasn’t cooing sweet manipulations into your ear. He was just… silent. You risk peaking up at him through teary eyes, to see him looking straight ahead with a grim look on his face, the beginnings of a sneer forming on his lips.
“It’s okay,” Ari says softly, his voice sounding thick as if there’s something stuck in his throat. Was this what true, earnest sympathy sounded like coming from him? Or was it all just an act? You’re too busy crying and seeking solace in his warm chest to really mull it over, and the beefy basketball player continues to stroke your back, “It’s okay, baby. He won’t hurt you anymore. I promise he won’t.”
“JUST SAY IT ALREADY! Just say ‘I told you so!’” You sob, “He didn’t care about me at all, Ari! Just like you said. He was just using me. He just wanted sex, or to get back at you, or both!”
He doesn’t say I told you so. Instead, his lips press down on top of your head, kissing you gently. And you know you should push him away, but you reason with yourself to hold on to him just for a little bit longer. Just till you felt a little bit better. Was that so wrong?
“He won’t hurt you again,” Ari repeats firmly, now cupping your face with both his hands so you look him dead in the eye.
“He scared me so bad, Ari!” you sniffle, “H-He punched a wall when I said I wanted to leave, and then…and then he wouldn’t let me go!”
Ari mutters something unintelligible under his breath, before using the corner of his sleeve to wipe your cheeks. “How did you get him to stop?”
“I couldn’t. But thankfully, his sister was there and she stopped him.”
Ari freezes, “His sister?”
“Yes.”
“Did she say anything to you?”
“Not really,” you look down at your hands. Recounting the whole horrific ordeal with Steve had caused them to start shaking, and you grip at your skirt to get them to stop. Before you know it, Ari’s larger hands cup your own, holding them in place on your lap, stilling them, calming you.
“Well, don’t worry,” Ari says firmly, “he won’t touch you ever again. I’ll make sure of it.”
His face looks earnest, sincere. A large part of you feels comforted by him, but there’s also a dwindling doubt in the back of your mind. A little speck of mistrust growing larger and larger, fuelled by all the times he’s hurt you. Fuelled by how Steve had hurt you. Despite the fact that you don’t want to, you snatch your hands out of his and shoot up off his lap as if he’s shot you. No. You weren’t going to do this again. You weren’t going to fall for his false promises. Not this time.
“Stop lying,” you say shakily, backing away from him slowly. “You don’t care about me so stop pretending like you do. You just want me for sex, and you’re angry that someone else got close to having me like that too. But you don’t actually care about me or how I feel, Ari, so just stop lying!”
He stands up too, frowning, “I’m not lying. I dumped Sharon. I’ve been texting and calling you this whole time. Hell, I’m standing inside a fucking supply closet just to get a minute alone with you. What part of that says I don’t care?”
“You don’t care,” you repeat softly, “It took me a while to realise it, but now I do. All I’m good for is sex.”
“That’s not true–”
“Yes it is!” You cry, “Remember all the times I begged to be your girlfriend and you came up with a bullshit excuse each time? It’s because you knew that I wasn’t worth anything more than a hook-up for you!” You shake your head bitterly, “God, you must’ve been laughing behind my back at how stupid and naïve I was for expecting more from you. Steve’s probably laughing too. You’re both the same and I’m not going to let you or him or anyone else hurt me ever again! So, for the love of God, just leave me alone!”
You turn to leave, but Ari grabs your hand.
“What’s it going to take to show you that I care about you? Because I’ll do it.”
You don’t turn back around, waiting two long seconds before you tug your hand out of his grip. But you do open your mouth to respond – except nothing comes out. Instead, you sigh. There was really nothing more left to say, was there? Except perhaps just one more thing…
“Nothing, Ari. People don’t just change overnight. Especially not people like you.”
You step out of the supply closet, carefully shutting the door behind you and finally walking away. And hopefully this time, it’s for good.
***
Ari: WTF. Why did you change your lock???
Ari: Stop avoiding me.
Ari: If you weren’t so hellbent on ignoring me, you’d know that I have changed. Just give me a chance to prove it to you.
Ari: ???????
Ari: Steve’s still dodging me, by the way. Me and Curtis went over to his frat house but he wasn’t there again. Clearly, he’s afraid of me, but don’t worry. I promise I’ll make him pay for what he did.
The days go by, and Ari continues to text you daily all while you lock yourself up in your room and pretty much avoid the outside world. And his last text makes you want to tear your hair out. Why couldn’t Ari just butt out of your life and stop trying to fight Steve on your behalf!? You’d never asked for that; you didn’t want that! You just wished the whole ordeal with Steve had never even happened, you wished you could will it out of existence.
And speaking of Steve, he still texted you too. Not as frequently as Ari, which made him better at taking a hint than he was at planning first dates. But you still received a message from him every now and again…
Steve: I get it. I fucked it all up.
Steve: I need to see you again. I’ll make it right. Please.
And sure, there was a tiny part of you that did want to hear Steve out. But you were afraid of him, afraid of what he’d do or say. Plus, he’d literally lied to you, pretended he was interested in having a relationship with you when really, he just wanted sex. So, who was to say he wouldn’t lie again? Oh God, everything felt so wrong, how could he possibly make anything right!?
And why couldn’t you just block them both and move on!? You wish you could, yet you can’t find it in you to block or delete either of their numbers. Not Ari’s, and not even Steve’s. Maybe it’s the naïve little girl inside you, the insecure little girl who wants to hold on to the only male attention she’s ever gotten – despite the fact that your relationships with both men had gone up in smoke. And so you settle with just muting and archiving their chats. Out of sight, out of mind – except not really. But it’s the best you can do for now.
And you feel more alone now than ever. With Wanda always preoccupied with Curtis, you had nobody to confide your heartbreak in. But ironically, you began to grow closer with Sharon. On the rare occasions you actually left your dorm room and made it into campus for your lectures, she always seemed to find you. You realised quickly that she no longer hung out with her usual cheerleader friends. Either she herself had opted to leave them, or they’d decided to leave her because she was no longer the basketball captain’s girlfriend. Either way, you didn’t ask.
“It’s probably one of them,” Sharon mutters darkly one day as the two of you walk past a gaggle of cheerleaders, “The bitch he was cheating on me with. It’s probably one of them.”
You gulp. You had yet to come clean to her – but you could never find the right moment. And as time went by and she started spending more and more time with you, it got even harder to just drop the bomb and be like, oh hey, by the way! That bitch who your boyfriend cheated on you with? That was me!
But apart from all that, Sharon was good company. Both of you were dealing with heartbreak (she seemed to be dealing with hers better than you were dealing with yours), and so there was a kind of understanding between the two of you. Not to mention, hanging out with her turned out to be useful in keeping Ari away from you. Any time he spotted you on campus, he’d start making a beeline for you before freezing when he realised you were with her.
“You know, I think I figured out why both Ari and Steve treated us the way they did.” Sharon pipes up one day whilst the two of you are leaving campus. “It’s because we’re too nice.”
“Hm?” You barely utter a word, just wanting to get home and wallow in bed. You hadn’t told Sharon the extent of what had happened between you and Steve on your “date.” All she knew was that it was over, and you never wanted to speak to him again.
“Yeah, it’s because we’re too nice. Bad bitches don’t get their hearts broken, but nice girls always do.” She says, unscrewing her lip gloss and touching up her lips. Unlike you, she’d gotten some of her pep back since her breakup. In a way, you were glad. You’d rather her be happy than you – she deserved it after getting cheated on. 
You manage to laugh cynically, which eggs the blonde on as she continues.
“I’m serious. From here on out, let’s promise not to take any shit from anyone. That way, no one can hurt us again.”
No one hurting you ever again? That sounded like a dream. You knew you could be naïve at times, especially months ago when Ari had first started hooking up with you. Back then, you really thought you’d hit the jackpot and found yourself the perfect boyfriend. Now, months later, it was like you’d mentally matured at rapid speed. Could you be tougher now? Stop being the stupid, naïve little girl that kept getting played by men?
“That’s easier said than done,” you remark softly.
Sharon shrugs, “It’s worth a shot. I think if you act like an ice queen well enough, people are gonna know not to fuck with you. So, like, next time Steve tries to approach you or sweet-talk you into taking him back, just act like you couldn’t care less. Keep a strong resolve, he’ll get the message.”
You think back to all the times in the past you’ve tried to keep a strong resolve. Not with Steve, but with Ari. And every single time, you’d ended up crumbling and crying in his arms. Giving him the perfect opportunity to manipulate you again. Would the same thing happen with Steve? Who could be extremely charming and angelic when he wanted to be? You hoped not…
Turns out you don’t have to wonder that for too long. Because as you walk up to your dorm building after parting ways with Sharon, you see Steve sitting on the stairs of the entrance. He stands up quickly when he spots you, and your heartbeat quickens. Oh no, why was he here!?
“I didn’t mean to ambush you,” Steve calls out when you stop dead in your tracks a few feet away from him. “But you wouldn’t return any of my calls.” He starts making his way over to you, and you remain frozen in place. Despite every cell in your body screaming for you to run.
“Please, stay away from me.” You mumble.
Steve stops short, holding his hands up defensively, “I’m not going to hurt you. I just wanted to apologise.” His face softens, and you notice how he’s got a bit of facial hair now, like he hasn’t shaved since you last saw him. His hair looks scruffier too. He’s also got dark circles under his eyes, like he hasn’t slept. In fact, in his black hoodie (the hood up) and black sweats, he looks about as depressed as you feel.
“Sorry, I’m not interested in your apology.” You stick your nose up and resume walking, trying your hardest to follow Sharon’s advice and be the stone-faced ice queen who didn’t let anything phase her.
Steve, of course, follows you up the steps and into your building.
“I wasn’t thinking straight that day in my bedroom. Sometimes I get like that.”
“I don’t care.” You try to sound nonchalant, but now you’re a bit scared. What if he followed you all the way up to your room? Forced his way inside? Locked the door and had his way with you like how he’d tried to last time? There was no Kira here to pacify him, either… Abruptly, you turn around, trying to keep your voice from shaking, “Steve, please don’t follow me inside.”
He bites his lip, looking every bit as handsome as he always did. Which sucked, because he deserved to have somehow become ugly after how horrible he’d been the last time you’d seen him. But no such luck, he still looked angelic. A bit dark and twisted and scruffy, but angelic nevertheless.
“But I need to explain to you why I acted the way I did.”
A bitter chuckle forces itself out your mouth, fear momentarily forgotten. “I know why you acted the way you did. You wanted sex, and you thought I was so naïve and easy, that I would easily provide it for you. And when I didn’t, you lost it.
“No, that’s not it at all!”
You jump at his tone, but try to keep your expression unfazed. “Well, I don’t care and I’m not interested.”
He clenches his fists, his jaw tensing too. But he relaxes when he notices the way your eyes widen in fear, and how you take a few steps back.
“Please, fuck, just don’t be scared of me.” He holds his hands up defensively again, and this time, you notice one of them is bandaged up. The one he punched the wall with. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“No, you already did that, Steve.” You turn back around and continue walking up to your dorm room, trying so hard to appear nonchalant.
“I’m not the best at controlling my emotions, okay?” He calls out behind you, and the steady patter of his footsteps reveals he’s still following you as you go up the stairs of your building. “My parents, they’ve made me see a bunch of doctors for it, and lately I’ve been able to cope but I’ll admit, something inside me snapped that day, and I took it out on you when I shouldn’t have, and–”
 “DIDN’T YOU HEAR ME? I SAID I’M NOT INTERESTED IN ANYTHING YOU HAVE TO SAY!” You reach your door before angrily whipping around, “Just leave me alone, alright? I don’t care if you’re sorry, it doesn’t take back the fact that you lied and made it seem like you wanted to date me when really all you wanted was sex! Not to mention, all the vile things you said and how scary you got. Now just leave me the fuck alone!”
Quickly, you slip inside your room and slam your door shut, locking it at lightning speed. Steve calls out your name, he knocks, he rattles your doorknob. And all you do is lean against the door, breathing fast and willing yourself not to cry. It was okay, he wouldn’t hurt you. There was a locked door between the two of you.
“(Y/N), please. Just give me another chance,” Steve knocks again, “I know I acted like a complete asshole, okay? I knew it the second I snapped out of it. And I really didn’t mean to say all those things.”
You feel that sudden flash of anger again. Bolting through you like lightning. After everything he’d said to you, after he’d forced himself on you… The best he could come up with was “I was an asshole and I didn’t mean it,”!? No, you couldn’t let him get off that easily. There were things that needed explaining and questions that needed to be answered.
Before you can think better of it, you throw the door back open. Of course, he’s still standing there, and you muster up the toughest, most ice queen-esque expression you can possibly make.
“Fine. We can talk.” You fold your arms over your chest, “But you need to answer me honestly. So don’t try to lie or manipulate me.”
Steve nods immediately, “Okay. Thank you.” He steps forward, as if he’s trying to get into your room. You quickly raise a hand up.
“No. Out here.” You don’t feel comfortable being in a bedroom alone with him. You take a deep breath, “You said that I spread your legs for you the night of the party. What did we do? And don’t lie.”
“We hooked up.” Steve meets your steely gaze evenly, before shaking his hoodie off his head and running a hand through his scruffy hair. It’s gotten long enough that the ends are starting to curl up, kind of like how Ari’s do – not that that was relevant at all right now. “In the cab when I was taking you home. We didn’t have sex, but we hooked up and I got you off.”
You wrack your brain, willing yourself to remember that night. But all you can muster up are fragmented pieces of memory. In the car with him, and you remembered how good he’d smelled. You remember his varsity jacket, and how it had somehow ended up around your shoulders. But… what else? Oh! You remember being in his lap, you remember the car hitting some bumps, and… Oh.
You nod slowly, “So then why did you lie? At the practice game, when you could’ve mentioned what happened?”
Steve exhales, “I did, but you were all confused. I thought you’d remember, but when I realised you didn’t, I just… Well, I don’t know why I didn’t say anything. I just… didn’t.”
For a guy who was so hell bent on explaining things to you, his explanations sure did suck.
You laugh bitterly, “No, you were too busy flaunting me in front of Ari’s face during that practice.” God, how could you have been so stupid!?
“Look, I said I’d answer everything and tell you the whole truth,” He shifts from one foot to the other, scratching his neck as if debating whether to say what he’s about to say, “And yes, I’ll admit that a part of me was using you to get to Ari.”
It feels like a punch to your gut. You’d suspected it, but the fact that he was so readily confirming it made it all the worse. With just a few words, Steve had confirmed all your insecurities. Not only did he not want to date you, not only was he just using you for sex… Oh no, as if that wasn’t enough, he’d also been using you as a pawn in whatever sick, longstanding rivalry he had with Ari.
Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry…
“Please don’t cry,” Steve steps forward, closing the gap between the two of you. And you’re so distraught by the bomb he’s dropped on you, that you don’t even try to run away from him. Instead, you lean against the door, breathing heavily, trying to keep your tears at bay.
He continues, “This is me being honest, alright? Something Ari never is with you. And yes, I wanted him to be jealous, I wanted to get a rise out of him, so I flaunted you in front of him. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t care about you. I still care about you.”
“How can you possibly say you care about me after everything you’ve just admitted?” You manage to get out as you try to get your breathing back into order.
“Because I do care! I think I’d know what I’m feeling better than you would!” He’s growing visibly frustrated. “Fuck, sorry. I’m so bad at explaining shit.” He smacks his forehead hard several times and yet you don’t even have it in you to flinch.
“Goddamit, look, I’ll start from the beginning.” He takes a few, gulping breaths. “When I first saw you at the party, it had nothing to do with Ari, I didn’t even know that you knew him. I approached you that night because you looked cute and lost, and I liked how feisty and sweet you were–”
“That’s a lie!” You wipe at your eyes roughly, “That’s a fucking lie, Steve. Aren’t you forgetting what you said last time you saw me? You knew what Ari and I did that night, you called me a slut for spreading my legs for him in the middle of a party! And you expected I’d do the same for you.”
“No, that’s not it at all!”
He gulps as if trying to get his breathing even once more, and you realise that’s his way of calming himself down. And you can tell that he’s trying, that he’s trying so hard not to have a meltdown like last time, and you just look at him apprehensively. You know you could back away at any moment, slam the door in his face again and lock it and be done with him. And yet, your feet remain planted in place, as if a part of you just has to hear him out.
“I’m sorry I called you a slut. It’s all a big fucking blank in my head, like I blacked out and said all those things. And I never saw you and Ari fucking at the party or anything like that. I only found that out days later through the grapevine. But I shouldn’t have used it against you, that was wrong of me. I’m sorry I fucked it all up by saying that. You didn’t deserve it.”
You shake your head but he hurriedly continues, “I was always going to ask you out, Ari or no Ari. It’s only when I saw how jealous he got when he saw you with me, that I realised how much he liked you. That he liked you more than he liked his own girlfriend. That’s when I realised I could be with you and get back at him at the same time.”
Get back at him!? For what? Did you even care, at this point?
Anger. Fear. Confusion. Pure fucking discombobulation. That’s what you feel. So much so, that you don’t even know what to say or how to act.
Steve takes your lack of response as his cue, moving forward and reach out to cup the side of your face slowly. And you fucking hate how soft and warm his hand feels, how it’s bigger than your whole head yet feels gentle at the same time. Gentle, when the last time he’d had his hands on you, he’d been holding you down on his bed while he tried to force himself on you.
“But I like you too,” Steve says quietly, almost like a whisper, “I like you more than he ever could. And whenever I like something, whenever I have something good in my life, I always fuck it up. But this time, for once in my life I want to make things right.”
“I kept telling you to stop,” you whisper, squeezing your eyes shut as the memories from that night barge their way back into your head. “Y-You ripped my dress.”
“I’m so sorry, baby girl.”
“You wouldn’t stop, Steve. It’s like you weren’t there, like something came over you and you weren’t there anymore.”
He nods fervently, his fingers stroking your cheek, “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I can’t help that I’m like this, I really fucking wish I could be normal and react normally to things like how other people do. I wish it more than anything in the fucking world.”
It’s like he’s a completely different man from the one you’d first met and thought you knew. The man who’d been so shrouded in mystery, oozing with confidence and charm. His intense aura, the smoothness with how he’d spoken to you in the past. But in this moment, it’s like all of that had melted away. And here he was, stripped back. Rough round the edges with bags under his eyes, an earnest look on his face. And this time when you look into his eyes, for a moment it’s like you really see him; you see someone fighting to be normal, desperate for another chance. Oh, should you…?
And then you blink. And there it is again: Steve, the very same man, saying all those vile things to you. All because you wouldn’t fuck him. Him ripping your dress, him holding you down. Him losing his temper. Him punching the wall. The way he’d held you so hard, not letting you leave. That dark, faraway look in his eyes. How scared you’d been… And here you were, letting him cup your face and speak all tenderly with you!?
What if he got like that again?
It’s like a lash of electricity jolts through you. You push Steve away hard.
“Listen to me carefully, Steve, because I’m not gonna say this again. You’re not who I thought you were. You lied about what happened on the night we met, and you lied about your intentions with me. It doesn’t matter if you say you wanted to date me, because your past actions speak louder than whatever words you’re saying now.” You take a deep breath, “That’s why I want you to leave me alone. Forever. Just walk out right now and never look back. Because I’m done with you. And I really, truly mean it.”
He freezes, an unreadable expression on his face. A myriad of emotions flitter through his eyes. Shock, sadness, anger. Disbelief. Resignation. And then…
“And what about Ari?” He says quietly, “You’re choosing him?”
“No, I–”
Steve spits out a bitter laugh, as if he wasn’t gently cupping your face and promising you everything just five seconds ago.
“You don’t know him, (Y/N). Okay fine, I wasn’t completely honest with you and I guess that means I’ve fucked things up between us forever. But you think Ari hasn’t lied to you?”
“I know he’s lied–”
“YOU DON’T KNOW THE HALF OF IT!” Out of nowhere, he raises his voice. And it cuts you like a sword, reverberating off the walls. You flinch at the booming loudness of his words, the aggressiveness back on his angelic face and now he’s scaring you again. “You don’t know what he’s done, okay!?”
“You’re scaring me.”
You try to say it calmly, but your voice breaks right at the end. Steve blinks rapidly, several times. Breathing hard, he looks down at his fingers which are enclosed tightly around your arm. Just like that day in his room. Like a hot poker, he drops it immediately. And again, it’s like he’s waking up from some sort of a momentary trance. Or rather, a momentary wave of anger.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats in a low tone, “but if you knew the things he’s done, you wouldn’t have picked him–”
“I HAVEN’T PICKED HIM!” It’s your turn to explode. “I didn’t pick him, Steve. This isn’t about picking anyone. I’m done with you, and I’m done with Ari too. I’m picking neither of you. Goodbye.”
You turn around and slam your door shut before he can get another word out.
***
“It’s like, a fundraising gala type thing held at the Hilton. The money raised gets split down the middle, half going towards the basketball team and half towards the cheerleaders,” Sharon explains, twirling a piece of her blonde hair around her finger. “Which, by the way, I think is totally lame, because the basketball team doesn’t even need any more funding. Unlike the cheerleaders.”
She swivels around in your desk chair, her sock clad feet waving around in the air. Outside, the sun sparkles and a gentle breeze flows in through your window. The weather had been great lately, as if the atmosphere knew you’d finished the final chapter of the Ari and Steve saga and closed the book on both of them. As if nature itself was willing you to go outside and begin your new chapter, one where you were sexy and single and thriving.
So then why could you still not find it in you to step outside of your room on most days?
“I’ve been on the planning and decorating committee for the Athletic Society’s Annual Gala for the past two years,” Sharon continues, “it’s like, one of the biggest events of the year. All these important sports execs and school alumni show up, not to mention half the college. Wanda, I’m guessing you’re going with Curtis, right?”
“Huh?” Wanda glances up from her phone for a split second, looking as if she has not the slightest clue what Sharon is on about. Burying her nose back into her screen, her acrylics start tapping ferociously. And it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to guess who she’s texting. In fact, you were surprised when she’d showed up alongside Sharon outside your dorm room this morning. It was very hard to pin down Wanda lately, since all her time was devoted to her boyfriend.
Sharon raises an eyebrow before shifting her attention back to you, “Well anyways, I think this would be a great opportunity for you to get out of your funk, Y/N. We could go together! As friends, obviously.” She adds hastily.
You manage to muster up a smile, “I don’t know…”
“Oh, come on! It’s been weeks since you ended things with Steve!” Sharon says, and you no longer shiver when his name is mentioned. It’s like the last confrontation you had with him cleared up the fog in your head a little bit. It still depressed you to the core, to know that you’d been used, but at least you didn’t flinch at his name anymore. That was something.
He’d also stopped texting you at all anymore. Which you should be happy about, and yet you still found yourself looking at your chat with him. God, what was wrong with you!? He’d finally left you alone just like how you’d wanted him to, and yet a part of you still felt like it was yearning for him.
“And I know how much you love dressing up and doing your makeup. Hey, we could even go shopping together for dresses!” The blonde claps her hands, clearly unaware of your current inner turmoil as she works herself up into a frenzy.
“We could make it into a proper girl’s night,” She sits on the other end of your bed with a bounce, “Hey, Wanda, why don’t you get ready with us too? You could always just meet Curtis there.”
Wanda scoffs, “Uh, no. I think I’ll go with my boyfriend, thank you very much.”
Sharon rolls her eyes, “Ugh. Fuck boyfriends. I was gonna go with Ari, but that’s obviously not happening anymore. Plus, a girl’s night sounds a lot more fun.”
Your poor, gullible, traitorous heart jolts. “Ari’s gonna be there?”
Unlike Steve, Ari was still texting you and trying to somehow see you in person. You’d successfully avoided him since the supply closet meeting. And yet, you couldn’t stop thinking about him either. God, were you just incapable of not thinking about the two fuckboys who had fucked your entire life up!?
“Yep, but it won’t bother me, I promise.” Sharon says determinedly, “The banquet hall is huge, so I’ll easily just avoid him. He’s probably gonna be super busy, anyways. Word has it that they’re giving him the Basketball MVP award this year.”
“Oh,” you breathe, before quickly clearing your throat, “I don’t know, Sharon. It sounds like fun, but–”
“Curtis says that he’s going to the gala with the basketball team, and that no one else is bringing dates,” Wanda interrupts you as she reads the latest text from her boyfriend. Finally, she looks up, “I guess I’ll go with you girls, then.”
“Great!” Sharon cheers, “You’re in too, right, Y/N?”
You smile, not really knowing what to say. Being in the same banquet hall as Ari and Sharon? At the same time? That was just trouble waiting to happen.
But is this how you were going to spend the rest of the college year? Letting your feelings towards Ari dictate where you went and didn’t go? You think about the old you, the one before Ari or Steve or anyone. The one who loved to dress up and go out to have fun. Before Wanda had got a boyfriend, the two of you used to go out all the time. Another girls’ night wouldn’t harm anyone, would it?
Sharon senses your hesitation, “Come on,” she urges, “It’s not like Steve’s even gonna be there. It’s strictly a St. Andrews’ event.”
You bite your lip. You doubted you’d ever see Steve again. Clearly, since he no longer texted you either. And a part of you is bittersweet as you think about what could have been. Absentmindedly, your eyes divert to your desk chair, where his blue and white varsity jacket still lies. You hadn’t even thought to throw it away. You bet it still smells like him…
Oh God, you had to get over him. Get over both of them and get the fuck out of this funk you were in. So what if Ari would be there too? This was your chance to prove to yourself that his presence didn’t make a difference in how you lived your life.
You take a deep breath, “Okay. I’ll go.”
***
 PART II
“Open up, sleepyhead. I’m not leaving and I’ll camp outside your door if you don’t open it.”
You’d woken up the next day to a loud knocking on your door. And you’d tried to ignore him. You really had. It was so much easier to just remain in bed, rotting and feeling sorry for yourself despite the promise you’d made yourself to get over the two men who’d betrayed your trust, and get out of the funk you were in. But the knocking was incessant, going from soft-knuckled raps to full on banging. You were sure he’d wake up your entire building, and then you’d have to pay a noise fine.
That’s why I’m opening the door, you think to yourself. Not because I actually want to see him.
And there’s Ari, standing outside your door with a picnic basket under his arm. And he looks kind of funny, his big athletic self holding such a dainty little thing. He also looks extremely pleased with himself, and you don’t even have the energy within you to argue with him or tell him to leave. You and him had gone non-contact ever since the confrontation inside the supply closet. Or rather, you’d gone non-contact whilst Ari tried to find ways to talk to you. He couldn’t corner you on campus anymore because you were usually with Sharon, and you’d changed your locks so he couldn’t exactly barge into your dorm room like how he used to.
“Go away, Ari.”
“Hey, nice to see you too. I come bearing food, because I know you haven’t eaten. And don’t ask me how I know, I just know.” Ari says breezily, and you frown at how chipper he’s acting. As if the last time you’d seen him you hadn’t stormed away and told him the two of you could never see each other again.
He follows you inside, and you quickly swipe Steve’s varsity jacket under your desk so he doesn’t see it. You don’t know why you still haven’t thrown it out but you really can’t be bothered to get into another fight with Ari over it.
Earlier in the day, Sharon had texted you asking if you’d wanted to hang out. You’d declined, finding the comfortability of your bed and the prospect of watching old reruns of trashy reality television much more interesting. What you hadn’t expected was Ari Levinson of all people showing up at your door, however. Although, you’re not too surprised. He was still texting you nonstop, wanting to show you how he’d “changed.”
Ari plops the picnic basket on top of your desk, and you sigh, sitting down on your desk chair while he grabs a stool. You already know how this is going to go. He’d tell you to open it, you’d say no, he’d say yes, you’d say no again. Then he’d open it and make you see the contents anyways. You decide to stop wasting either of your time and look inside the basket yourself.
“Cheese sandwiches?”
“Uh huh. And don’t knock it till you try one, sweetheart. My mom makes these for me.” Ari winks before flashing you a smile. And doesn’t contain even a hint of his usual cockiness or smugness – it’s just a regular little smile that makes his eyes light up all pretty too. And you’re not used to it at all, it looks almost displaced on his face. Was he being genuine? You can’t even tell anymore. But probably not.
You pick one up and eye it carefully, and your heart can’t help but throb at the thought of him standing in his kitchen making it for you. Big, bad basketball captain fuckboy Ari Levinson carefully cutting the sandwich into little triangles and packing it up for you in this little picnic basket. How had Ari even gotten hold of a picnic basket to begin with?
“So, it’s a family recipe?” You take a cautious bite.
“Yep. Passed down from generation to generation. Don’t ask me how you make it because it’s a Levinson family secret,” he grabs a sandwich of his own and wolfs it down in two bites, “I mean, you could always become a Levinson yourself and have my kid, then I’d tell you.”
Your cheeks heat up. Oh, a few weeks ago he didn’t even want a relationship with you and now he was joking about marriage and kids?! Would you ever understand him?
“It must be some recipe,” you remark, trying your best to keep your tone even and unamused. Instead of looking at him, you observe the sandwich. It tastes good – he’s used some type of expensive artisan bread and fancy cheese. A step above your average grilled cheese, and it tastes even better on an empty stomach since he was right, you hadn’t eaten anything since last night.
“It is. Have another one,” he thrusts another sandwich in your hand.
Your frown, “Ari, stop, I don’t want–”
“You haven’t eaten all day, (Y/N).” His tone drops, growing more serious.
“Well, stop acting like you care!” You shoot back.
But Ari looks unperturbed as he helps himself to a third sandwich (he was going through them remarkably fast), “I do care.”
“You don’t.”
“I do.”
“You don’t.”
“Yes, I fucking do,” he says, the slight sharpness in his voice taking you aback. “What other girl have I cooked for and lugged a fucking picnic basket halfway across campus for?”
You settle back begrudgingly, taking another bite out of the sandwich, “I’d hardly call this cooking.”
You know you sound mean and bitter, but it’s like you can’t help it. Like there’s a deep black hole filled with anger still swirling within you. Anger at both Ari and Steve and you don’t know how to sort through it or make it go away.
“Oh yeah? Well, you’ve never cooked for me so I’d say you’re hardly an expert on the subject.” Ari shoots back, grabbing another sandwich from the picnic basket as well as a can of soda. “You want a coke?”
“No.”
You start tearing your sandwich into tiny pieces just so you have something else to focus on and you don’t have to look at his face. Because you’re afraid this newfound earnesty of his, afraid it would reel you back in hook, line and sinker. Afraid he was just putting on an act to convince you he’d “changed.” That’s also why you’re being cold – you can’t let your walls down with him again. Not this time. Not when Sharon was literally your friend now.
“So, I was thinking we could catch a movie after we eat,” Ari continues talking all casually as if the majority of the conversation so far hasn’t been extremely one-sided. “Have you seen the new Godzilla vs Kong? Probably not, you’re not into stuff like that.” He pauses only to consume his sandwich in two huge bites, before grabbing another one. His voracious appetite almost makes you smile. Almost. The only other times you’d seen him look this starved was when he was going down on you…
No, stop! Don’t think about that!
“Sure, we could watch some girly movie instead, but you’d have to pick it because I have no idea about shit like that, obviously–”
“I told you; we can’t go anywhere that Sharon or someone might see us. Besides, the last thing I want to do is go out with you. In fact, you can show yourself out now because I’m gonna go back to bed–”
Ari slams his coke can down on your desk with a loud clunk. You jump, before narrowing your eyes at him. First, he practically broke into your room, then forced you to eat his dumb sandwiches. Now he was making obnoxious noises? Oh, you were just about done with him–
“That’s it.” he grunts, standing up to his full height. You gape up at him, suddenly nervous. You barely have the chance to yelp before he grabs your arm, yanking you up with him.
“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?!”
He lifts you up off the ground with ease, throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. You start pounding on his back immediately, but you only hear him snort in return.
“Put me down right now, Ari! I’m not in the mood for this! Put me down!”
“I gave you a pass to be a little sassy, but you need to remember who’s in charge.” He starts walking across the room. And you may as well have been an insect on his back with how unbothered he was by you wiggling and trying to fight out of his grip. Oh god, what was he going to do?!
Panic bubbles up in your chest, your heartrate increasing tenfold in about five seconds flat. You struggle harder against him, before realising there’s no use. He was way too strong. You shut your eyes and brace yourself; any moment now he’d throw you on the bed and have his way with you just like he always did, just like how Steve had tried to do, and you’d be powerless to stop him because you couldn’t stop anyone, and they all just wanted one thing, and–
“Please don’t,” you whisper, on the verge of tears, “Please, I can’t have sex. I don’t want to have sex, please don’t make me. Please, please don’t make me.”
Ari freezes, and you wish you could see his expression but in your current predicament, dangling over his shoulder, you cannot. But then he starts walking again, and he goes straight past your bed. That’s when you notice the picnic basket in his other hand.
“I’m not trying to sleep with you.” He mutters.
Oh. But then what was he doing?
You get your answer less than a moment later, when he swings your door open and carries you outside. That’s when you start punching his back again.
“Ari, take me back inside! I’m serious, okay? Someone’s gonna see–”
“Then I suggest you stop making so much noise that’s gonna attract attention towards us.” He shoots back, giving you a reprimanding pat on your thigh. Not your ass, you note, but your thigh. Immediately, you shut up. But you fix a scowl on your face, vowing you’d keep it there permanently until he could see it.
A minute later, he dumps you unceremoniously into the passenger seat of his car. By the time you scramble into sitting position, he’s already in the driver’s seat. The doors, predictably, are locked.
“So, it wasn’t enough that you barged into my dorm room uninvited. You felt the need to kidnap me, too?” You snap, irritated yet at the same time slightly amused. But you can’t let him know that. No, you had to maintain your ice queen persona.
“Please,” Ari snorts, starting up the car. “You were talking about going back to bed. If anything, I’m doing you a favour. It’s a nice day, sweetheart, let the sun shine on your face for a few hours.”
You deepen your scowl, crossing your arms over your chest, “I’m not going outside.”
“Yes, you are.”
“No, I’m literally not, Ari. Because you didn’t even think to let me put my shoes on.” You wiggle your bare toes, suddenly feeling the strong urge to smile at the ridiculousness of your whole predicament. But you pout to cover it up, suppressing whatever amusement you’re feeling because you don’t want him to see.
“Don’t fucking pout, it makes me want to kiss you.” Ari murmurs, keeping his eyes on the road but you can see him licking his lips.
“Don’t.”
“Did I say I was going to? I said I want to. There’s a difference.”
Again, you want to smile. You quickly turn your head away, looking out the window instead, watching the trees and buildings roll by as he drives you out of campus. “Whatever, just stay away from me.”
“Don’t be a brat.” There’s a warning edge to his tone, one that you’ve come to know very well. But surprisingly, you don’t feel unsafe. For once, you feel like maybe he won’t just stop the car in the middle of nowhere and try to fuck you.
You’ve been in Ari’s car before, and you’re no stranger to how it always goes when you’re in here. Back in the early days of you two hooking up, he’d pick you up in the dead of the night. And you were so innocent, you’d think of these midnight drives as romantic, magical even. He’d have a cigarette in his mouth, his long hair either slicked back or flowing in the cool night air. A wild look in his eyes as he’d pull you inside and kiss you headily while still trying to focus on the road. And he’d have one hand on your thigh, squeezing it before pushing his fingers between your legs.
In his hazy, smoke-filled car, you’d always find yourself underneath him. Splayed out in his backseat while he licked his lips and loomed above you. His dark silhouette so handsome, and you remember thinking how he was such a bad boy, and you were such a good girl, and how hot it was. He’d tell you how much he loved the tight little skirts you always wore, and yet he’d always rip them in half and then laugh and kiss you when you pouted. Tell you how he’d been waiting all day to fuck you, how he just couldn’t wait now that he had you, that he’d been thinking about you and him, that he just had to have you now.
You remember feeling like such a little girl compared to him. Ari was a senior after all, and you only a freshman. Once, you’d tried to impress him by wearing red lipstick. That night, he’d pulled you over the console and made you suck his dick. Till your red lip prints were all over his fat cock, and he’d told you how you were such a good girl, and he loved how cute you were, and that he knew you were trying to impress him.
 All those nights in his car, and you remember each time you’d ask him if he’d broken up with Sharon, and each time he’d tell you that he was “working on it.” That he didn’t see a future with her, that you were so much more special. “I can’t stop thinking about you and I,” he’d say, blue eyes dreamy and you thought he sounded so earnest. And eagerly you’d say the same, excited that someone like him could ever be that interested in someone like you.
And then he’d push you into the backseat, or he’d stay in the driver’s seat and pull you into his lap. Or sometimes, if the place you were parked at was secluded enough, he would take you on the hood of his car. Fuck you in every way imaginable, use your body for his pleasure whilst also giving you the most intense pleasure you’d ever felt. And sometimes, the moonlight would reflect off his eyes and make him look like something so special, and you’d feel so special, and you’d feel like you were in a movie. You still remember it now.
You doubt Ari does, though. You doubt those nights were ever special to him.
“Where are we?” You ask fifteen minutes later when he pulls up somewhere. You peer out the window and see trees – a bunch of them. He’s parked in a clearing, only a single dirt road leading up to it and the rest of the area covered in a thick forest of trees. The sun sparkles through the leaves, and you can hear birds chirping louder than you ever do back in the city. “Are we in the woods?”
“Yep.” He’s out of the car in an instant, grabbing the picnic backet which he’d thrown haphazardly into the backseat before making his way to your door. “C’mon, let’s go.”
“If you think I’m going to hike out into the woods barefoot–”
Ari scoffs, “Don’t worry your pedicured little feet off, princess,” he turns around, “Hop on.”
You eye him carefully, as if you’re assessing a threat. Going into the woods with Ari of all people may not be the best of gameplans for someone who was actively trying to avoid men in general. When Steve had forced himself on you, it had been in his room and luckily Kira had been nearby. The secluded woods, however, were a completely different story.
And yet, it’s like you know deep down that Ari won’t do anything. Not this time. Then again, you’ve been wrong about him before. Were you being naïve all over again?
Maybe you were, but you hop on to his back anyways. His muscular arms catch you easily as you wind your legs around his waist. Your arms lock around his neck and you nestle close to him instinctively. So close that you can smell his grape shampoo, and you admire how pretty his hair is, how it curls up slightly at the base of his neck like he’s a movie star or something.
You hate how you’re still so attracted to him.
He gives you a piggyback ride all the way into the woods, and it’s kind of neat being up so high. Ari was so tall, and with you on his back you felt like you were six foot six inches too. So this is what he sees, you think to yourself, finally indulging in the nature that surrounds the two of you. The way the oak trees soar up as high as skyscrapers, how the smaller trees sway with the breeze. The rustling of the leaves, and you think you hear a distant trickling of water, too.
“It’s nice here, isn’t it?” Ari breaks the comfortable silence, continuing to trek forward into the woods.
You’re about to heartily agree, before you remember the cold persona you’re meant to be adopting with him. So, in the dullest, most bored and nonchalant voice you can muster up, you say: “It’s whatever, I guess.”
He snorts.
You frown, “Are you laughing at me?”
“Nope.” He sounds amused.
“Yes, you are!”
“Well, it’s cute how you’re trying so hard to be something you’re clearly not.”
You’re thankful that he can’t see the way your jaw drops open, “And what exactly do you think I’m trying to be?”
He shrugs, inadvertently bouncing you up and down on his back.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I like this sassy side of you. Especially since I know you’re still the same naïve little baby on the inside.” He looks back at you, and you catch a glimpse of his glittering eyes, framed by those impossibly long eyelashes.
“I am not!”
Ari chuckles, “You can act as tough as you want, it amuses me how cute you look when you do it.”
You scowl, despite the fact that his constant flirting was starting to thaw you from the inside out, making your cheeks burn and your mind feel more muddled than ever. What was the truth and what was a manipulation? This was him just trying to win you over so he could fuck you, right?? Or maybe, maybe he genuinely liked you… Maybe–
You forcibly make yourself scowl again, “Fuck you.”
“Say that again and I’ll drop you,” He threatens.
“Don’t you dare!” You squeal, winding your arms tighter around his neck, almost choking him.
He snickers as if he’s cracked the funniest joke in the world, before continuing to walk. The two of you settle into another spell of comfortable silence. You take in all the bushes full of wild berries, the pretty flowers that are luckily in full bloom, scenting the air with a sweet fragrance that tickles your nostrils pleasantly. Another gentle breeze has you relaxing more against Ari, and you’re almost about to nuzzle your face against his strong shoulder before you catch yourself and freeze.
“I discovered this place last year,” Ari announces five minutes later, gently setting you down on a patch of vibrant grass. To your delight, only a few feet away from you is a stream! The water flows and sparkles in the afternoon sunlight, rushing over rocks and plants and making a pleasant trickling sound that has an oddly calming effect on you. And the grass feels nice against your toes, so much so that you don’t even mind your bare feet on the ground.
You don’t say anything, just watching as Ari settles down beside you with the picnic basket. You stretch your limbs out, secretly happy that he brought you out here, that you didn’t spend another day rotting in bed.
“I found this place last year,” Ari repeats, “A few of us were camping nearby and I hiked out further away to see if I could get cell reception. That’s when I found this place.” He leans back, lying down completely with his arms crossed behind his head, “It’s nice and private here, huh?”
A thought enters your head, jolting you down to the core, “Private? So, this where you brought Sharon? Or your other hookups?”
“No. You’re the first person I’ve ever brought here.”
The straightforwardness of his answer jars you, and you find you have no quip or jab to respond with. Instead, hesitantly, you lie down too. A few inches away from him, but he makes no move to grab you or pull you closer. A large part of you is relieved, but you want to strangle the tiny part of you that’s disappointed that he’s not touched you.
“It’s nice.” You say finally.
“Yeah, I come here sometimes. To admire the nature or whatever.”
That makes you pause, and you look at him incredulously. He’s lying there with his eyes closed, yet he’s got a completely straight face.
“You? Admiring nature?”
Ari scoffs, “Is that so hard to believe?”
“Yes, actually.” You can’t imagine Ari of all people, who only cared about basketball, partying and sex, to be one with nature. Unless it was weed. “What aspect fascinated you the most?”
There’s a long beat of silence.
“I don’t know, the plants and shit?”
You can’t help but burst out laughing. And it feels good, to just let go and laugh for a bit. To just forget about how shitty you feel and just laugh. Even if it’s just for a moment, to just forget about how awful Ari’s been to you in the past, how awful Steve turned out to be too, just forget it all and allow yourself to laugh. And you can’t even remember the last time you laughed.
“Haha, very funny,” Ari rolls his eyes, but you can see the slight smile playing on his lips before he clears his throat. “Alright fine, I couldn’t give a fuck about nature. But I do like this place, it’s good for when I need to think.” He hesitates, “When I was dating Sharon, I felt like I never had the space to really think, and so I’d come here.”
You cease your laughter immediately at the mention of her name. Now that you were friends with Sharon, it made it a lot harder to talk about her with Ari. Because now, she was actually a person to you rather than some distant illusion that you tried not to think about. And it wasn’t her fault that Ari felt he couldn’t think with her around. She wasn’t the villain here, Ari was.
You clear your throat, heart suddenly beating very fast. “C-Could I ask you a question? And please don’t lie, okay? Just be honest with me, Ari. For once.”
He nods, not saying anything else.
“Were there others?” You ask hushedly, your tone wavering slightly as you voice the thought you’ve never wanted to speak into existence, never even dared to wonder about. “Was I just one of many girls that you were cheating on her with?”
Ari sits up, rubbing his temple. You watch him carefully, watch how his eyes scrunch shut before opening. He blinks several times, his lips pressed into a thin line before they part and he exhales slowly. Then, he turns your way, looking you dead in the eye.
“No. There were other girls before you, but once I slept with you, it was only you from then on out.”
“Yeah, me and Sharon.” You say bitterly, although the guilt is eating you up inside. You feel guilty for even feeling hurt or bitter, because he was never yours to begin with. Sharon was the girlfriend – she had every right to feel hurt and bitter. You? You were just the other woman. All you should be feeling was guilt and shame. Especially since here you were, out alone with him again when you’d vowed yourself you wouldn’t do this.
You sit back up too, and he makes a move to grab your hand but you shuffle away quickly. You hug your knees, resting your chin against them as you huddle into yourself. You can feel his gaze penetrating holes into you, but you only focus on the steady flow of water in the stream.
“Even with Sharon, it didn’t feel right sleeping with her. Not after I’d been with you.”
 “Then why didn’t you break up with her?” Your voice breaks at the last second, and you turn away from him so he can’t see the lone tear that trails down one side of your face. Just a second ago you’d been laughing and now here you were, crying over the same question that had plagued your mind for months. The question that had been beaten to death, and yet you knew you’d never get a straight up, honest response.
Ari sighs, and you hear him moving closer to you. A second later, he takes hold of your chin, gently turning your face back to him.
“Hey, listen to me. I was an asshole, okay?” He sucks in a breath, closing his eye again for a handful of seconds. You want to look away but you can’t help but watch him, watch as he breathes, watch as he finally opens his mouth again. “Before you came along, I was this guy… This hotshot guy who could do whatever and everyone would just worship the ground I walked on. And, well, I guess I thrived on that. I liked how easily I could use women. I knew I had a girlfriend but I liked how I could get any girl to sleep with me–”
“I don’t want to hear this,” you mumble, pushing away from him.
“No, wait, I’m just trying to explain myself.” He runs a hand through his mane impatiently, “Look, I’ll admit it. All those times I strung you along, it was to feed my own ego. For a while, it felt like I was on top of the world, like I had two girls and neither of them knew any better, and–”
“Stop telling me this,” your voice hitches, more tears rolling down your cheeks.
“I was being a fucking asshole, that’s what I’m trying to say!” Ari grabs your hand as if to stop you from running away, a note of frustration in his tone. Or was it desperation? “I’ve never been good with voicing my feelings and all of that shit, but that’s what I’m trying to do right now. When I saw you with Steve, it’s like he was taking my girl, taking away everything I’ve always wanted. The night of the party, and then again at the game, when I saw you with him… It got me so fucking heated, and I’d never felt like that before. It felt like I was wasting my time in a relationship I clearly didn’t want to be in, and he was moving in on the girl I did want to be with.”
You look up at him, breathing heavily yet not daring to say a word.
“I’m sorry for lying to you, I’m sorry for using you. I’m sorry that it took you being with someone else for me to finally wake up and realise you’re the only one I’ve wanted this whole time.” His hand slips up to cup your cheek, and it’s like you’re frozen. You don’t know if you want to stop him or if you want to lean into his touch. You don’t know if this moment is even real. If this stream is real or if the woods are real or if Ari is real or if he really is saying everything you’ve ever wanted him to say.
“Why couldn’t you have said all this before?” You say shakily, afraid to look him in the eyes in case you see anything other than sincerity, in case you see even an inkling, even the tiniest spark of a hint that he was manipulating you.
“I was immature.” He continues to wipe your tears, before making you look up at him. “I was just so wrapped up in being the guy who could have any girl I wanted, but I promise you I’ve grown out of that now.”
“Really?” Your voice comes out so small, filled with hope mixed with a bit of hesitance.
Ari nods, “You said before that people don’t change overnight. But if you let me show you, I’ll prove to you that I have. And that I’m serious about us.”
Ice queen persona be damned. You feel more tears well up in your eyes. “Y-You are?”
“Yes. I wasn’t going to mention this but…” He runs a hand through his hair, brushing back a wayward lock that flops over his forehead, before taking hold of your hand, “There was an NBA scout at the last game. He said they want to sign me, that a lot of teams are eyeing me as a draft pick.”
Oh. The NBA. That put everything into perspective for you. He wasn’t like you, with three and a half years of college ahead of you. No, he was almost done… And then he’d be gone. You’re happy for him – the NBA was a huge deal after all. But you also feel a little sick, like time’s going by too quickly, like maybe you’re not ready to let go yet after all.
Your mind also briefly flits to Steve. Had he been approached by an NBA scout too? You think back to when you’d last seen him, outside your dorm room with the dark circles under his eyes, the withdrawn look on his face. He didn’t look like someone who’d just been scouted by the NBA. Oh God, were you feeling bad for him now?!
“Congratulations.” You say slowly, not really knowing how to feel. Suddenly, you’re hyper aware of Ari holding your hand, and now it’s like you don’t want him to let go.
“The reason I’m telling you this is because I have it all planned out. Our future.” Ari continues, looking more serious than you’ve ever seen him look. “I know you’ll still be in school, but I really think we could make it work. And by the time you graduate, I’ll have made it. We could settle down together, and I’d make it all up to you. That’s how serious I am about us.”
You simply just stare at him in complete awe. Who was this man? It was like an alien from outer space had taken over Ari’s body. Because the Ari Levinson you knew was a manipulator and a cheater. A man who stayed away from commitment with a ten-foot pole, a man who had just now professed to you that he enjoyed two-timing his girlfriend because it made him feel like he was on top of the world.
And yet… And yet you’re only just a girl, and you can’t help but picture the story his words are painting for you. Just indulge yourself a little bit, just a tiny little bit… You know you’re teetering on thin ice, and you know how dangerous it is to allow yourself hope when it comes to Ari. Hadn’t he squandered your hope time and time again for all those months he never made you his girlfriend?
But you can’t help but imagine, can’t help but think maybe this time he means what he says…
“We could buy a house in the countryside?” You whisper.
Ari cracks a smile, “Sure. And you could pop out a few Levinson babies too, make cheese sandwiches for all of them.”
“I’d have to establish myself as a model or a fashion designer before that.” You say, feeling the corners of your lips twitch upwards as you dare yourself to dream.
He looks amused, “Fashion designer, yes. Model, no. Too many pervy photographers.”
“I’ll be a model if I want to be one!”
“No.”
“Yes!”
“No way.”
“Yes way!”
“Fine. I’ll be in the NBA and you can be a model. Maybe. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” He chucks you under the chin playfully, like how he used to do all the time. And you giggle, feeling like you’re floating. Like the two of you are encased in a bubble and you’re floating and time’s standing still and just for this one moment you could pretend everything was alright and your future with him was as secure as he was making it out to be.
“And you’d never lie to me again?”
He nods, “I wouldn’t. Never again.” And then he takes a deep breath, “There’s this fundraising gala thing coming up, and I’m supposed to win an award. I’d love it if you could come with me as my date.” He says with a note of seriousness in his tone, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear.
But rather than let you answer, he instead cups your face with both hands, pressing his forehead against yours. Immediately, the smile on your face freezes, and now you can feel every pore, every muscle, every cell in your body screaming. Screaming for what? For him to kiss you? Oh God…
“Let me kiss you,” he breathes out of nowhere, sounding like he’s parched. “Please, baby. I know I’ve fucked up but I want to kiss you so bad right now.”
“Oh, Ari…”
“Please.”
You never thought you’d live to see the day where Ari Levinson was begging you for anything. It was such a stark contrast from how your relationship had begun, almost as if the tables had turned now. Were tables capable of turning that quickly? Or was this all part of an act? Oh, you’re sick of asking yourself that question! What’s real and true is that earnesty in his eyes, and you want to kiss him so bad too. So fucking bad.
He moves closer, and so do you. Inch by inch, almost like first-time lovers. His lips purse slightly, looking so warm and soft and inviting. Closer, so close that they brush against yours for a second, and you can hear him breathing and you know he can hear you too. You wonder if he can hear your heart too, hear how it beats louder for him than it does for anyone else.
“We shouldn’t…” you murmur, but your words are laced with doubt. Just one kiss, your mind cajoles you, just one kiss won’t hurt.
There’s a gentle breeze around the two of you, swirling softly. Rustling through his hair, feeling cool against your face. Encasing the two of you in a private whirlpool where it’s just you two, and the sound of the stream, and the beat of your hearts.
“I know, but I want to so bad,” Ari’s hands are cupping your face so tenderly, his thumbs stroking your cheekbones as he slowly angles your face upwards. “Please, let me kiss you. Just once.”
It’s like the breeze jostles you forward, as if the universe wants you to kiss him. Your willpower’s hanging on by just a thread, your mind swarming with memories of every time you and him had kissed in the past. How magical it had felt for you, how it felt like you could never find someone who’d kiss you like that again. Oh, fuck your willpower!
He surges forward one last time, but his lips have barely touched yours before you pull away, turning your head to the side. Breathing hard, the anticipation still burning through your body in waves. Heart beating like crazy, and yet you swallow and shake your head.
“Ari, we can’t,” you force yourself to say firmly.
Ari sits back, looking slightly dazed and yet running a hand through his hair in frustration. For a second, you wonder if he’ll be mad, call you a tease for leading him on. Call you a slut, tell you how the least you could do was kiss him in return for all he’d done for you today. But he just sighs thoughtfully.
“Not until I come clean to Sharon about everything,” You explain, “And I know about the gala, Sharon told me. I-I’m actually going with her and Wanda, like a girls’ night.”
He raises an eyebrow before nodding slowly, “Well, as long as I get to see you there when I go up on stage to accept the award.”
“Yeah, but we can’t talk or interact or anything. Sharon’s my friend now, and I owe her the truth before anything more can happen between us.”
Ari gazes at you carefully, but there’s a hopeful glint in his eye. “So, it’s just the Sharon issue then. You forgive me for everything else?”
You hesitate. Well, did you? Did you forgive him for leading you on? Lying to you multiple times? Manipulating you? Leaving you drunk and high and alone in a party bathroom? God, why did he have to remind you of the asshole he’d been all this time, up until very recently? It pops the bubble your mind has created right now, the one that you and him were encased in, in this little clearing in the woods.
“I don’t know if I forgive you.” You say honestly, hoping he doesn’t question you further.
To your surprise, he doesn’t. Instead, he lies back down on the grass, stretching his long limbs out to make himself comfortable. You watch him as he lazily grabs another cheese sandwich from the picnic basket, wolfing it down before offering you one. Stifling a smile, you shake your head.
Ari shrugs, “Well fine, more for me.”
And it’s later, after the two of you sit there by the stream in comfortable silence for a little while longer. After he’s piggy-backed you back to his car, and after he’s driven you back home. It’s when he’s pulling up to your building, that he puts his hand on your knee to make you look at him.
“I know you said before that nobody changes overnight, but that doesn’t mean I won’t stop trying until you see that I have.” He says firmly, his hand feeling so warm on your leg, causing heatwaves to radiate up and down your whole being. “And I know you, baby. I know you like me too. I know you want this to work out between us too. And it will. Once you tell Sharon, and we’re free to be together, everything’s gonna work out. You’ll see.”
Oh, he was so cocky! And yet, it’s a different type of cockiness than what you’ve usually come to associate with him. It’s more of an honest sincerity, this confidence that one day you’ll be his. And oh, you want to believe him! You really do! You want to believe in a perfect world where Ari proves himself to be more than just a manipulative fuckboy, a world where Sharon understands and forgives you for everything.
A world where you forget all about Steve Rogers, and never find yourself thinking about him… Thinking about what could have been.
You say nothing, not until he’s carried you back into your dorm room. Not until he’s about to leave. That’s when you speak.
“Ari?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
He looks surprised, as if he hadn’t really been expecting you to say anything at all after his whole speech. The truth was, you’d been silent for a while now, ever since the two of you had almost kissed in the woods. But there’s a newfound serenity inside you, a feeling that wasn’t there before.
“For what?” He asks, a shy little smile on his face. One you’ve never seen on him before.
For bringing me outside. For taking me to your special place. For not making a big deal out of it when I didn’t want to kiss you. For carrying me. For not losing your patience with me. For making me laugh. For making me smile again.
“For the cheese sandwiches.”
***
The night of the gala is cold for springtime, the blustering winds revving up and roaring to life. Looking outside your window, you can see the smaller trees swaying roughly against the unforgiving nature of what looks to be the beginnings of a windstorm. It gives you a peculiar foreboding feeling, listening to the ominous whistling of the winds, so loud as if they’re warning you. You back away from your window, and yet something inside you doesn’t close it and lock it as you know you should.
You float back over to your vanity table, feeling pretty in your new dress that you and Sharon had gone shopping for, just how she’d promised. You haven’t felt this pretty in a long time, and as you gaze at your reflection, you feel another pang of foreboding. Quickly, you busy yourself with powdering your nose and fixing your hair, wondering if maybe you should have agreed to get ready with Wanda and Sharon after all. You’d told them you wanted some alone time before the busyness of the gala. Some time to yourself where you could draw a bubble bath, and then shave and pluck and preen and pamper yourself till you felt somewhat ready for the big night out.
And it had made you feel better, your solo pamper session. Sure, your thoughts had spun into overdrive as they always did. Replaying all your recent interactions with Ari, with Steve, even with Sharon. The reflection made you chuckle at one point, because when had your life become so like a tumultuous soap opera? With secrets and lies and betrayal and deceit coming from all corners?
A loud gust of wind knocks you out of your reverie, and again you feel it. The feeling that something big is swirling up in the atmosphere, like the howling wind itself is trying to warn you that soon, it would all come to head.
“Fuck you! Try an’ scratch me again and see what happens!”
Your head snaps up at the sound of the familiar male voice. And it’s the proximity that makes your heart skip a beat. The voice sounded close, like it was coming from mere feet away from you. Fearfully, you look back at your window, only to see that same angelic face you know so well seemingly levitating outside.
“Steve?” You whisper, blinking several times. He doesn’t seem to hear you, and you wonder whether you’re imagining things. Slowly, you venture forward, back to your window which lies open. And that’s where you find him, standing on the ledge outside of your bedroom window which was two storeys high.
Steve whacks a wayward branch that looks to be tangled in his jacket. And his movements are oddly sluggish as he flips the bird at the tree adjacent to your building which the brand is attached to. “Damn stupid fuckin’ tree, tryna pick a fight with me,” he mutters before his eyes fall on you, and they brighten up instantly, “Hey, baby girl, fancy seeing you here!”
And then he bursts into a fit of giggles, while you just stare at him in awe, your mind still not having come to terms with the fact that Steve had somehow climbed all the way up to your window. In the dark. With the wind blustering insanely around him. Warily, you peek downwards, heart jumping all the way up to your throat when you see how he’s just casually balancing on the extremely thin ledge, the street below looking very minuscule with how high up your floor was.
“How did you get up here?” You breathe, still half in shock that he’s here that you forget how explosively your last encounter with him had gone down.
“Who, me?”
“Yes, of course you. Who else!?”
He shrugs, “Scaled that tree over there, then it decided to scratch me so I fought it off an’ jumped onto the ledge. Now here I am!” He ends his explanation with a flourish that causes him to stumble backwards. It almost happens in slow motion; you don’t even have a chance to react to what you’re seeing. But he catches his balance again just in time, grinning up at you mischievously.
“Whoops!” He laughs heartily, a type of laugh you’ve never really heard from him before. He shuffles along the ledge till he finds a spot he’s more comfortable with, leaning in through your window and shooting you a smile, “almost fell to my death there, didn’t I?”
“Steve, you need to get back down. You’ll hurt yourself.” You bite your lip, wondering whether you should let him in through your window just so he’d be safe. But the thought of being alone with him within the four walls of a bedroom again gives you the creeps, and so you refrain.
“Maybe I want to hurt myself,” he answers, staring at you almost quizzically. His lips are full, his cheeks flushed. His hair looks longer and even more unkempt than last time, that stubble still on his face, his eyes dark and unfocused. It was weird, because you’d always known Steve to be meticulously well-groomed and almost preppy with his clean-cut good looks. He was still handsome as ever now, but he looks darker, almost tortured, with dark bags under his eyes and even his cheeks looked kind of hollow.
“I’m serious, climb back down.”
“I just wanted to see you again,” he breathes softly, and his entire expression morphs to tender as he reaches out to touch your face. “And I knew you wouldn’t let me in the normal way.”
You can’t help but flinch away, and he sighs, bringing his hand back down to grip at your windowsill, “You’re so pretty.”
That’s when you smell it. Vodka. Suddenly, his erratic behaviour makes a lot more sense. His pupils are dark and blown out, and he’s swaying dangerously on the spot.
“You’re drunk, Steve.”
“Nah,” he bats his hand dismissively, but with such force that he stumbles forward. And again, your heart lurches in your throat, thinking he’s going to fall. But lithely, he grabs on to something or the other, regains his balance, and flashes you another smile, “okay, maybe a little bit. But being drunk helps.”
You frown, not knowing whether to feel scared or concerned, “What do you mean?”
He shrugs, “Helps to forget all the shitty stuff.”
A wave of anger passes through you, “Shitty stuff? You mean like all the awful things you said to me when you tried to force yourself on me?” Hell, maybe you should be the one drinking if it meant you could forget how he’d called you an easy slut.
Steve bows his head, still swaying slightly, “I’m so sorry, baby.”
“Don’t call me baby.”
“Okay. I’m sorry, sweetie.”
“Stop it, Steve. I’m serious.”
He sighs again, “So am I. I hate how I lose control like that. It’s like I zone out, and something takes over me and I’m there on fucking standby. Watching this one version of myself lash out and say all these shitty things an’ I can’t do anything to stop it.  And when I zone back in, it’s too late an’ I can’t take anything back.”
He explains with surprising eloquence, despite being so drunk.  And God, why did he have to look all rugged and heartbroken right now? Dismissing him would be so much easier if he was ugly.
There’s an emotion swelling up inside you as you look at him now, but you try to suppress it. Instead, remembering your ice queen persona, you cross your arms over your chest and force yourself to narrow your eyes. “Is that your explanation? That you zoned out? Because honestly, the lack of accountability–”
“I don’t think you’re a slut,” Steve interrupts you, “you’re sweet, and beautiful, and innocent. That’s what I thought the night I first saw you. And sure, I guess I used you because I was trying to get back at him–”
You flinch. There it was again. The reminder that Steve had indeed used you. And you’d fallen for it… Hook, line and sinker.
“–but at least I’m honest enough to admit it. Doesn’t that count for something?”
He finishes, blinking up at you with large eyes framed with those impossibly thick lashes, as if waiting for you to respond. When you don’t, he sighs, swaying again as another strong gust of wind attacks from the outside.
“I like you a lot, okay? I know I haven’t known you as long as he has, but it doesn’t matter. I think what we have is special.”  He swallows, his eyes squinting as he searches across the plains of your face, either trying to gauge your thoughts or trying to come up with the right words to say next. “And I know I fucked it up because that’s what I always do. So fuck it, I don’t care anymore.”
He shoves his hand inside his jacket, conjuring up a glass bottle of Gray Goose vodka out of what seems to be thin air. Your jaw drops open as you watch him take a hearty swig from it – and it was already half empty!
“Okay, that was a lie. I do still care.” He wipes his mouth roughly, stumbling about and still very much on the window ledge. “There’s just so much going on inside my head,” he says, and he demonstrates by smacking the side of his head with his open palm, “School, basketball, taking care of Kira – all of it just keeps building up. And I try my best, okay?” He loses his footing and sways some more, “but it’s never enough, and all my thoughts get louder and louder, like voices fucking screaming inside my head, and then I just explode. And I get so fucking angry, and it’s always directed towards the wrong people – whoops!”
He slips. You cry out in terror and impulsively grab hold of his arm. But he regains his balance and barks out a laugh, as if he’s tripped whilst taking a simple stroll in the park and not currently balancing on top of a very high and very dangerous ledge.
“It wouldn’t matter if I fell, you know?” He muses, taking another long swig of the vodka. And he doesn’t even flinch as the bitter liquid goes down his throat, as if the taste no longer has any effect on him. “I mean, my life’s a fucking mess already. Basketball’s completely fucked, anyways…”
“What do you mean?” You ask, your heart pitter-pattering in fear. His overtly reckless behaviour is scaring you, and you realise you’re holding your breath as you watch him callously standing there.
Steve shrugs, “Got kicked off the team today.”
Oh. You feel a surge of pity. And you know you shouldn’t. Not after how he treated you. And yet you can’t help it. Tonight, Ari was going to win an award for being the best basketball player of the season, and in the summer, he was going to the NBA. You can’t help but feel for Steve’s starkly different fortune.
He takes another gulp of vodka, “Coach said I couldn’t control my emotions and I’d keep costing the team if I continued playing.” He gazes off into the distance, and you try to gauge his expression but it’s quite unreadable. He laughs bitterly and smiles again, but it looks more like a grimace, “Fuck him. He’s right, but fuck him anyways.”
“Steve, this is dangerous. You could fall–”
“Fuck basketball,” he continues swaying around like he hasn’t even heard you, “it’s not like I was ever gonna make it to the NBA, anger issues or not. No, I have to become a surgeon. Like my parents.” His words slur and ring with sarcasm, and he barks out another laugh, “If I don’t fuck that up too…”
“I’m sorry that happened, but–”
He scoffs, “Can’t even fucking imagine being a doctor. My patients would probably be scared of me, just like how you are.”
“Please, just get down–”
“And Kira…” His expression morphs from bitter to sad in less than a second, and he clutches your hand suddenly. The one that you hadn’t realised was still holding on to his arm. And you don’t pull away, almost like you don’t want to. Either that, or you want to keep hold of him so he doesn’t fall.
Steve coughs, “God, I wish I took care of her better. I feel so fucking guilty, living on campus while she lives by herself in our house. Our parents are never home, they don’t even know what she went through… How she doesn’t even speak to anyone but me, how she doesn’t go out anymore...”
Another long swig. It’s a wonder the bottle isn’t empty yet. You want to interject, beg him once more to climb back down to safety, or at least hand you the vodka so he doesn’t drink anymore. But he’s not done speaking, and cuts you off when you try to get a word in edgewise.
“My parents, the award-winning heart surgeons!” He raises the vodka bottle up in the air in a mock toast, “They’re here, there, everywhere around the fucking world!” Another swig, more swaying. “Everywhere except for at fucking home. So then I have to handle everything, don’t I?”
“Steve–”
“They don’t even know how bad she’s gotten, how their own daughter’s shut herself off from everyone.” Steve shakes his head in both resignation and frustration, “and I try so fucking hard, okay? Try to help her with her anxiety, help her make new friends. God, all I do is worry about her. And school. And basketball. While they jet across the world doing their fancy surgeries and not giving a damn about her or me. Fuck them!”
Whoa. Wow. Okay. Now, you look at Steve with new eyes – you had no idea there was so much going on in his life, in his head. It still didn’t excuse the way he’d spoken to you, the way he’d forced himself on you – and yet… Yet you can’t help but feel another pang of sorrow and pity for him.
His eyes are dark and stormy as he looks out into the early evening sky, before looking back to you. His gaze falls down to your hand holding on to his arm, and he smiles softly.
“You were the only thing in my life that was good.”
You shake your head, your barriers going back up, and you try to pull your hand away, “No. Stop lying, Steve, just don’t even try it, don’t even–”
“No, it’s true!” He insists, holding on tightly to your hand as if he’s on a sinking ship and you’re his only lifeline. “That one week before I fucked it all up, that one week when we were just texting. I’d be on my phone, smiling like a fucking fool. You can ask Kira! She knew about you because I couldn’t stop talking to her about you.”
You bite your lip, and despite everything, you find yourself wanting to believe him so bad. Suddenly, a strong gust of wind has Steve clutching your hand even harder as he teeters on the ledge, bringing his face closer to yours, his eyes hooded and lashes fanning over those impossibly sharp cheekbones.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says.
“Don’t, Steve…”
He sighs, breaking eye contact as he plays with the glass bottle in his hand. But his other hand seems to move off its own accord, his pointer finger trailing up your bare arm. And it’s so intimate, that simple touch, leaving a trail of fire and goosebumps in its wake. Your skin feels like it’s buzzing, burning almost, as he traces his finger up your shoulder blade, as if he’s testing to see how much you’d let him touch you.
“I miss you.”
You feel your resolve crumbling…
“No, you don’t. All we did was text for one week. We never even went on a date, so you can’t possibly miss what you never had.”
“And yet I still miss you.”
He leans in, his eyes fluttering shut. His lips look so pink, so warm, so hesitantly inviting. Slightly pursed, as if he doesn’t know if it’s going to happen but he’s going to try anyways. Another sharp gust of wind blows past, almost pushing him into you as if even the universe itself is cajoling you to just give in to him. You can smell the alcohol on his pores, and yet you can also feel his warmth, his musky cologne, the way his breath hitches as if he can’t believe this kiss is actually happening…
Except you turn your head at the last second, and he sighs.
“Should’ve seen that coming,” he says to the evening sky, “lost my place on the team, lost my girl, I wonder what I’ll lose next? You wanna take any guesses? Hey, maybe I’ll lose my balance! That would be funny, wouldn’t it?”
You watch as he looks down, all the way down to the ground with a peculiar gleam in his eye. The type of gleam that reflects that he’s a man with nothing to lose. And it’s a long way down. What the hell was he thinking?!
“He really fucked her up,” Steve murmurs softly to himself, a whisper that almost gets lost in the great gusts of wind that swirl around the two of you. “And I tried to do something about it, tried to get back at him, but I fucked it up. I always fuck up. Maybe it’s best if I just–”
“Steve, stop it! Stop being so reckless!”
You tug hard at his arm, and at the same time a heavy wind blows. Steve stumbles again, but mercifully, he falls forward instead of back. Through your window and right on top of you. You both land on the floor with a thud, and despite how drunk he is, he manages to bring his hands out in front of him, preventing you from getting crushed by his huge frame.
“Whoops. Sorry, baby.”
He flashes you a cocky smile, as if he hadn’t just been teetering on your window ledge in the middle of a sad, drunken rant. The bottle of vodka is still snugly clutched between his fingers, somehow having also survived the fall onto your hard bedroom floor.
You open your mouth to tell him to get off of you, but the words die inside your throat. Instead, you look up at him, at his face so close to yours. So close that his nose is an inch away from brushing against your own. And his eyes, navy and blown out and yet still so pretty, blink down at you imploringly. The last time, when you’d been in his bedroom, they’d looked so stormy and far away. And here, now, he was drunk and yet he looked present. And you realise that you don’t feel unsafe at all.
“I really, really want to kiss you right now,” Steve says, slurring and stumbling over his words.
“Don’t.” You warn him, although you notice your own lack of conviction. In that moment, had he actually done it you don’t think you’d have objected too much. But you don’t want to give in to him, not after how scary he’d been last time. Despite everything, you still haven’t forgotten.
He nods slowly, “I know, fuck, I know…”
Shakily, he gets off of you, swaying slightly as he gets on his feet, and then he yanks you up too. Before you can stop him, he takes another swig of vodka before his eyes once again settle on you.
You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows hard, biting his lip as his dark eyes drink you in. In your form-fitting emerald dress that wraps around your body like a second skin of smooth satin. The ruching which accentuates your curves even more, the delicate lace detailing, the smooth dip of your cleavage. The gleam of your bare legs that peak through the slit of the dress. The demure heels that makes them look longer than ever. And yet you can’t help but shift shyly under his intense gaze.
“You’re all dressed up,” Steve says softly, reaching out to touch you before thinking better of it, curling his outstretched hand into a fist and pushing it down to his side, “You look… incredible.”
“Th-Thank you.”
“You going somewhere?”
“Uh… yes.”
He nods before his brow furrows, “Is he taking you out?”
“What–?”
“Levinson. Is he taking you out? Are you two together now?” His tone hardens, and you feel your heart jump up to your throat. Oh, please let him not get all angry again like how he did last time!
“No.” You say firmly, “There’s this gala, this fundraiser thing at the Hilton Hotel. That’s where I’m going. Me and Sharon and Wanda.”
“No Levinson?”
You shake your head, “N-No, Steve.” It was only white lie, because you weren’t going with Ari and you probably wouldn’t speak to him tonight. It was a girl’s night out, if anything. Plus, you’re scared that Steve might flip out if he knew that Ari would be there too.
“You promise?” He looks at you meaningfully, and he’s got that same intense look again. The look you’ve grown to associate with him, that eery, almost glassy stare. “Promise me, Y/N. Promise me that you aren’t going out with Ari.”
You don’t owe him anything, certainly not any promises. And yet, yet you can’t help but nod, “I promise, Steve. In fact, Sharon and Wanda are on their way to pick me up.”
Steve nods approvingly, looking somewhere beyond you. His eyes look sad once again, and he takes another long, lingering sip of vodka. “Good girl. You stay away from him, okay? All he does is hurt people.” He shakes his head, his mouth pulling downwards in a grimace, “He hurt her so bad.”
You frown, “Hurt who? Sharon?”
The blond doesn’t answer, but he continues talking to himself. “What did she ever do to him? He didn’t give a damn about her, and now look at her…”
You feel an uneasy wave of guilt, “You mean Sharon, don’t you? I know…”
Steve frowns, opening his mouth to answer you before he grows distracted by something beyond your shoulder. A slow smile spreads across his face, and he stumbles over to your desk in the corner of the room.
“My jacket!” He grabs the blue and white varsity jacket he’d given you the night of the party, “You still have it. You kept it.”
“You can take it back!” You say quickly, a bit too quickly judging by how his face falls. Quickly, he drops the jacket as if it’s made of hot coals, a bitter look enveloping his features.
“You should throw it away. Or burn it.” He says simply, throwing his head back and taking a hearty sip of his vodka, “thought you would’ve looked cute wearing it to one of my games but I since I won’t be playing anymore, there’s no point anymore, is there?”
What follows is an uncomfortable silence. And oh, why was he making you feel bad for him now?! After everything he’d said and done? But then he’d apologised too… Were you being too hard on him? Now you feel more confused than ever!
You sigh, “Steve… Look, I just don’t know how to act around you. One second, you’re so intense, and you’re calling me a slut, and you’re being all scary. And then the next it’s like your entire personality changes. And I just… I don’t know what to believe, okay?”
“Why can’t you just believe that I’m sorry for what happened? I’m sorry for all of it.”
You shift uncomfortably, looking down at your heel-clad feet. You wrack your brain, trying to choose your next words carefully, “I… do believe that you’re sorry.”
He stands there expectantly, as if waiting for you to say something more, to say that you forgive him, perhaps? But you don’t think you do. Do you? A few more empty seconds pass before he clears his throat.
“They put me on some kind of medication. Added it to the ones I already take.” He volunteers, breaking the silence. He avoids your gaze now, instead focusing on his bottle of vodka, tossing it from one hand to the other and tapping at the glass. “For my anger and mood swings, or whatever.”
You nod, “That’s good, right? You saw a doctor?”
He snorts, “No. My parents just heard about me flipping out and contacted the family physician Got him to prescribe me all these different pills. But this,” he raises the vodka up in the air and waves it around, “This helps more than any medication ever could. It stops all the screaming in my head. And luckily, Mom and Dad left the house full of booze, so I’m all good to go.”
You nod slowly, furrowing your brow, “Steve, maybe you shouldn’t be drinking while you’re on medication–”
Your phone vibrates loudly from its place on your bed, the sound shaking you from the inside out. Even Steve blinks several times, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding as you make your way over to your phone. It’s like the bubble of intensity the two of you have been encased in has popped, and now you’re back in the real world. It was crazy, because being inside the bubble felt intoxicating, like everything was moving in slow motion, like you were in some sort of fairytale and the troubled prince had just climbed in through your window.
Your screen glows with a new text.
Sharon: We’re on our way! Wanda’s already so drunk lol we’ll be there in ten minutes!
Oh no. You’d rather your friends didn’t run into a drunken Steve Rogers when they came to pick you up. Especially not when you were supposed to have sworn off men anyways.
“Steve, you–”
“–I need to go,” he completes sombrely, picking at a piece of loose thread on the sleeve of his expensive-looking sweater, “I know, I know.” His eyes narrow, “That wasn’t Ari, was it? Who texted you just now?”
“No.” 
He relaxes, “Good. Okay, I guess I’ll leave then.”
You chew your bottom lip anxiously, “H-How will you get back? You didn’t drive here yourself, did you?”
He waves your question off as if it isn’t important, backing away towards your door, “You don’t worry about me, sweetheart.”
“Steve Rogers, don’t you dare drive back home in the state you’re in!”
He just stares at you, that same bittersweet look on his face. Finally, he nods, “I’ll be fine. I came here with Bucky.”
You nod, “Okay, then. As long as you don’t drive…”
Steve shoots you a sad smile, one that doesn’t really reach his eyes. His eyes that are still glued on just you, only you. He crosses his hand over his chest, “I promise I won’t. Scout’s honour… Although I was never a scout, so who knows if you can take my word. Ha ha.”
He finally makes it to your door, almost as if he’d been walking in slow motion, wading through quicksand. Why? Because he didn’t want to leave? And you feel a lump in your throat, one that won’t go no matter how many times you swallow. There’s an odd yearning inside you, like an itch on your hand. No, an itch in your heart. Your fingers twitch as if wanting to reach out to touch him. Did you not want him to leave, either?
You press your lips together, rooting yourself in place as you watch him go. At the last second, he turns back around again.
“I am sorry, okay? Sorry about everything.”
Once more, all you do is nod. The expectancy in his eyes fades away and he sighs, his hand resting on the doorknob as he goes to shut the door. 
A second passes. But it feels like the longest second you’ve ever lived. Like your heart seems to beat about a thousand times in that one second, like a drum reaching crescendo. Feeling like you’ve reached that part in the movie, that page in the book where the climax happens and then everyone can breathe again. Outside, the winds seem to be charging up again, readying themselves for an almighty, blustering blow. And you can feel the booming whistle of the winds ringing all around you, when you suddenly drop your phone on your bed and rush over to the door before you can think better of it.
“Steve, wait!”
You press your lips to his in a searing kiss, catching him completely off-guard. He stumbles back slightly, either by how strongly you’ve jumped on him or because of his own inebriation. Either way, he recovers quickly, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you against him as he reciprocates your kiss.
And you don’t know why you’re kissing him, but it’s like your body’s gone past the point of rationale. Like your lips and your limbs have a mind of their own and your brain is no longer part of the conversation. And Steve’s lips feel so soft, and this time you feel like it’s you in control. He’s too drunk to take charge, you suspect, as his lips move languidly against yours.
Your hands cup his face, his bristly skin pricking the pads of your fingers, and yet it doesn’t bother you. Not when he’s kissing so softly, so cautiously like he’s afraid he could hurt you again. It’s you who presses your tongue against his, stroking it, biting and nipping at his lips. He smirks at your overexcitement, finally injecting more passion into the kiss by tipping your head back slightly and pressing his lips harder against yours.
He tastes like vodka, but you don’t mind. He also tastes kind of sweet, kind of irresistible. And oh, you know this makes no sense! And you know you shouldn’t be kissing him! What about Ari? What about your own dignity? What about swearing off all men? What about–?
You pull away as abruptly as you’d kissed him, and both of you stand there breathless for a handful of seconds. Your lips still tingle pleasantly, and before he can say anything, you gently pry the bottle of vodka from his hand.
“I’ll keep this, okay?” You say softly, holding it behind your back. There’s still quite a bit left in it, and Steve looks like he’s one sip away from disaster. Or at least a very bad headache tomorrow morning. You pray it’s only the latter.
But he’s got a sparkle in his eye now, and he doesn’t spare the vodka a second glance, “It all went away for a second.”
“What went away?”
“All the fucking screaming in my head. All that pressure I was telling you about. Kissing you made it all go away. Your lips are magic, baby girl. Better than the vodka.”
“Oh.” You don’t know what else to say, but you feel a lurching pull in your heart nonetheless.
“Yeah, like I’m numb to it all now. Comfortably numb. And it’s such a fucking relief.” He closes his eyes for a second, as if he’s savouring the feeling. You’re so intently looking at him that you don’t even notice when he grabs your hand, and his eyes flutter open, “So you forgive me?”
You hesitate, “Steve, I…I don’t know.”
His serene smile freezes on his face, and he drops your hand like it’s a hot poker. You feel it again in your heart, that lurching fee ling that you can’t place. You watch as his face falls, almost in slow motion. And it feels like you’re sitting front row in the cinema, watching his expression turn sad, his eyes clouding over once more like he was depending everything on your forgiveness.
“Okay. Goodbye.”
He stumbles out of your room, out into the stairwell where he trips before grabbing on to the banister.
“Steve, please be careful,” you say again, your tone laced with worry.
He glances back at you, that ever-charming smile back on his face. Back from when you’d seen it that first night when you’d met him. Almost like he’s put on a mask. He gives you a sluggish thumbs-up, “I’ll be fine. I’m comfortably numb, remember? I just hope it lasts…”
What the hell did that mean? Should you go after him? You hear your phone vibrate loudly, and you glance back at your bed to see it glowing with several new texts. But then you look back at the stairwell to find it empty. He was gone. Gone like a gust of wind. Gone like he was never there.
But he was. You can still feel him on your lips.
As if in a dream, you float back into your room and pick up your phone. Two new texts.
Sharon: We’re five minutes away! Traffic’s crazy lol.
Ari: Hey. I just want to say that I’m happy you’re coming tonight. Even if we don’t get to speak, just know you’ll be on my mind all night. Fuck. That was cheesy. Anyways. See you there :).
You sink down on your bed, already feeling exhausted and mentally drained. Despite the fact that the night was nowhere near over yet. In fact, it hadn’t even begun.
***
“Where’s Curtis?” Wanda wonders aloud, scanning the sprawling banquet hall and immediately grabbing a flute of champagne from an elegantly dressed waiter holding a tray full of them.
The banquet hall where the gala is being held at the Hilton is reasonably full, and you recognise a bunch of familiar faces from campus – both students and professors. Everyone’s dressed smartly – the men in tuxedos and the women in evening gowns and dresses. Sharon and the decorating committee have done a great job; each table swathed in ivory cloth, with red rose centrepieces and golden gilded chairs. Matching golden lights against an otherwise dark room gives an almost ethereal ambiance.
“He’s probably over on table 2 with the rest of the basketball team,” Sharon nods to a table at the front of the room near the stage. “I did the seating arrangements and the place-cards.”
Predictably, table 2 is the rowdiest table in the entire banquet hall. Clearly, the basketball team didn’t give two fucks about what was considered proper black-tie etiquette. You can see Ransom Drysdale and Andy Barber having some kind of a drinking competition, chugging down wine glass after wine glass as if they were cans of beer. Lloyd is acting like their referee, half on top of the table as he tries eggs them on. Colin is laughing his head off as he looks to be live-streaming this whole performance on his phone. And then there’s Ari.
And oh, he looks so breathtaking! Your heart physically skips a beat when you see him. His brown hair slicked back sexily, but the ends curling around his stiff white collar. His tuxedo looks well-tailored and expensive – Armani probably – and a white bow tie that makes him look more handsome than ever. He’s sat in the middle of his table, looking very much like the leader of his group. A smirk on his face as he watches his teammates horse around, but then his eyes meet yours, and the cocky smirk turns into the most adorably lovesick smile that does not look like it belongs on his face – only because you’ve never really seen him smile like that ever before.
“Oh gosh, there’s Ari,” Sharon says, coming up closer to your side and making you snap your eyes away from her ex-boyfriend immediately. The blonde takes a few deeps breaths to calm herself, “And he’s looking straight at me! Well, who cares? I’m not gonna let him affect my night. In fact, I’m gonna go over to him to prove how unbothered I am–”
Before you know what’s happening, she starts making a beeline straight over to table 2 – with you in tow! Wanda follows, her eyes still searching the room for Curtis as she downs her champagne quickly.
“Hello, Ari,” Sharon says stiffly, hanging on to your arm for dear life. You hope you don’t look as mortified as you feel, watching as Ari looks up at the two of you, his charming little smile still on his face.
“Hi.” He answers her, giving her a quick nod before his eyes shift to you, and you see them sparkle as he looks you up and down, taking in your emerald dress, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards again in another sweet little smile. Oh God, damn him for being so obvious!
“Well, I just came here to congratulate you on your award,” Sharon says, a determinedly happy-yet-nonchalant look plastered on her face. “So, well, congratulations.”
Ari nods again, physically tearing his eyes away from you, “Thanks.”
“Where’s Curtis, you guys?” Wanda interrupts the awkward exchange, looking expectantly at the basketball team. You watch as she grabs another champagne from another cocktail waiter who happens to pass by, downing it as quickly as she had the first.
Ransom snickers, “He’s somewhere around here, sweetheart. But I wouldn’t bother him if I was you, he’s kinda busy.”
Wanda doesn’t even wait for him to finish his sentence before she’s off, weaving across the banquet hall at lightning speed. You watch her, mildly concerned as she grabs yet another glass of champagne, her previous one still in her other hand. She’d been antsy the whole ride over, because apparently Curtis wasn’t texting her back, and hadn’t since last night.
“She’s already a mess,” Sharon murmurs to you under her breath before smiling brightly at Ari, “Well, see you around, Ari.”
He nods at her for the third time, before his eyes rest on you once more. There’s a hint of yearning within them, and his lips twitch as if he wants to say something. Oh, when did it get so easy to read his expressions? Did you know him that well now? He gives you a soft, private smile – one you know is meant just for you. One that seems to convey a thousand words in just a single twitch of a muscle. You almost return it, before remembering who you’re with.
“Thank God, he didn’t bring her,” Sharon mutters to you as the two of you walk away from jock table.
“Huh?”
“The little skank he cheated on me with. I would’ve died if he brought her along as his date.”
You gulp, eyeing one of the champagne flutes yourself. After tonight, you absolutely had to come clean to Sharon. There was no other choice, you’d kept this secret long enough. And if it meant she’d no longer be your friend, then so be it. You deserved that. But no more excuses, you had to tell her tonight after this event was over.
And the event itself is fine. You hang out with Sharon while she makes small talk with a bunch of different people. You don’t talk much, simply staying quiet and observing. People’s outfits, their makeup, their shoes, everything. It’s nice to be out and about again, after spending what felt like an eternity rotting in your dorm room and feeling sorry for yourself. You even find yourself catching Ari’s eye every now and again, and each and every time he’d give you his sweet little private smile that made you want to die. You’d look away, of course, or busy yourself with talking to Sharon or someone else, just so you wouldn’t smile back. Even though you wanted to. You really, really wanted to.
You do get a handful of texts from him though.
Ari: You look beautiful.
Ari: I can’t take my eyes off you.
Ari: Seriously, I don’t think you realise how beautiful you look right now.
You don’t reply, but you know he can see you looking down at your phone and smiling like crazy.
About a half hour into the gala, the hosts beckon everyone to sit at their assigned tables because the award ceremony is about to begin. That’s when you notice that Wanda’s been missing for a while now. You scan the room while a retired basketball coach hobbles his way onto the stage, beginning a very long-winded speech on how he’d single-handedly led the St. Andrews’ team to victory back in 1993. Where the hell was Wanda? You realise you’ve been so wrapped up in the event and playing secret smiling games with Ari from across the room to notice that you hadn’t seen her since the three of you had arrived here.
Luckily, you spot her stumbling towards the bathrooms that are in a corridor off the main banquet hall. Stumbling being the key word, and you quietly curse yourself for allowing her to drink so much. God, Ari was just so distracting! Even when you weren’t even speaking to him, just his presence alone was making you forget about everyone else!
You tell Sharon you’re going to get Wanda before quietly sneaking away, hoping to discreetly bring her back before she wanders off somewhere else. You just hope
“Wanda, hey! Wait up!” You catch up to her, “Let’s go back to the banquet hall.”
Wanda rolls her eyes, “Leave me alone, Y/N. I’m looking for my boyfriend.”
Oh. She still hadn’t found him yet?
“C’mon, our table’s this way,” you try again, grabbing her hand, about to lead her away. Then you notice her eyes light up as she looks beyond your shoulder.
“Baby, there you are!” Wanda slurs brightly, snatching her hand out of your grip and making a beeline down the hall. You whip around to see Curtis closing the bathroom door behind him, his other hand wiping his mouth. His tie loose around his neck and top collar button undone. And you also see a tiny brunette in a silver dress slip out of the bathroom behind him, the dim lights of the hallway swallowing her up as she slinks away into the darkness, Wanda not even noticing her.
“Wanda.” Curtis blinks, looking entirely unperturbed. “You’re here.”
She hits him playfully on the shoulder, “Of course, I’m here. I came with the girls, remember? And I wanted to support you!”
He scratches the back of his head, “Yeah. Cool. Look, I’m gonna go back to the boys–”
“Great, let’s go!” Wanda links her arm with his, making his jaw tense and eyebrow raise. And you watch this whole ordeal with a sinking feeling in your stomach.
“Babe, remember how I told you this event was a no date kind of thing?” Curtis carefully peels himself away from her, making her pout. You cringe when she doesn’t get the message, grabbing his bicep again, her manicured nails like talons holding on with all her might.
“But I missed you, baby,” Wanda smiles up at him drunkenly. “I’ve been looking for you all night!”
Curtis visibly cringes, “Come on, babe, don’t be like this.” Again, he dislodges his arm from her grip, pushing her off of him not-so-gently. “I’m here with the team tonight, but I promise I’ll come by your room later. Maybe. Like way after midnight probably.”
You can’t hide your disgust, openly frowning and shaking your head at him. God, why did all men suck so much?
“Come on, Wanda,” You grab her hand once more, “You don’t need him to enjoy your night. Let’s go.”
“Um, fuck off, Y/N, I’m talking to my boyfriend right now.” Wanda pushes you off her before sidling up to Curtis again.
You gape at her, feeling a pang of hurt. She’s just drunk, she didn’t mean to say that…
Curtis sighs, rolling his eyes, “Listen to your friend, Wanda. I gotta go.”
“I’ll come with you!”
For a third time, she grabs on to his arm tightly. That’s when Curtis huffs, clearly annoyed.
“Look, I don’t know what you think is going on between us, but stop acting like we’re in some serious relationship or whatever.” He says, a frown bordering on disgust on his face as he shakes her hand off of him.
Wanda gapes, and even your mouth drops open. How dare he? How fucking rude!
“Baby, you don’t mean that–”
“I mean sure, we have fun together but please don’t get the wrong idea, Wanda. You can’t just chase me down at these public events like you own me or something. That’s not how this works. In fact, all it does is make you look kind of desperate.” He continues, getting his phone out and nonchalantly scrolling through it as if this whole painful conversation isn’t even worth his time.
How the hell was he speaking to his own girlfriend like that?
“I-I’m sorry for being desperate, Curtis,” Wanda says earnestly, her eyes wild and pupils dilated, “Please, don’t do this! Don’t break up with me like this!”
He rolls his eyes, “Do what? I’m not doing anything! I can’t break up with someone who was never my girlfriend to begin with. Sure, we had fun for a few weeks but it’s not like we were ever exclusive, let alone dating. You were too clingy for my liking anyways.”
“Curtis, that’s enough!” You admonish, your heart breaking for poor Wanda. Curtis was a joke.  You can’t believe he’s standing here denying he was ever in a relationship with her. Hell, you’d been a third wheel to them enough times in the past month to know the two of them had definitely been a thing. How the hell was he just so casually gaslighting her now, as if none of that ever happened? God, you would never understand men!
Curtis glances at you, a devilish twinkle in his eye before he turns to Wanda again, “Hell, I’m pretty sure I tried to sleep with your friend Y/N before I settled for you that night at the party.”
“Oh, you’re such an asshole!” You explode, pulling Wanda away, “Stay away from her, you piece of shit! C’mon, Wanda.”
What you haven’t noticed is Wanda standing deathly still. She snatches her hand away from you, a look of absolute loathing, shock and betrayal on her face. And a part of you wants to see her give an asshole like Curtis a piece of her mind. But then she turns to face you, her eyes drunk and accusatory.
“Y-You…” she points at you, swaying in her heels from all the alcohol in her system, “You slept with my boyfriend?”
“What? No, he tried to sleep with me, but I wasn’t interested. It really wasn’t a big deal–” You try to hold her hand to calm her down, hoping she doesn’t make a big scene.
“Later, ladies.” Curtis grins, squeezing past the two of you and strutting over to table 2 with the rest of his team. You watch him for a moment, slack-jawed at his nonchalance and how badly he’d just hurt your friend.
“I can’t believe you!” Wanda hisses, pulling away from you yet again. “I can’t believe you slept with him!”
You shake your head desperately, “No, no, no! I didn’t sleep with him! That’s not what he said!” You take a deep breath, stopping yourself from raising your own voice out of desperation to get her to understand. Instead, you speak slowly: “Wanda, I did not sleep with Curtis. Yes, he did try it on with me ages ago but nothing happened.”
“You’re the biggest bitch in the world, Y/N! I can’t believe you slept with him!” Wanda sputters, tears welling in her drunken eyes. It’s like her brain has only selectively heard what he’d said and is running with it, and she’s unable to compute what you’re saying to her now. “I knew you weren’t above sleeping with other people’s boyfriends but I never thought you’d do it to me!”
“No, please, just listen! You’re not understanding–”
“Let go of me!” She bats your hands off her when you try to grab her again, backing away and stumbling out into the main banquet hall. “Don’t even speak to me again, Y/N! How dare you sleep with Curtis?! When you knew how much me and him meant to each other!”
Helplessly, you watch her as she marches across the banquet hall, and you trail behind her with a lump in your throat. You’d have to wait until she was sober to explain things to her properly, which was another conversation you weren’t looking forward to. But for now, you just watch her, hoping she doesn’t injure herself with how determinedly she’s walking. You expect her to head towards Curtis’ table, which is why you freeze when she walks straight past him and up towards the stage.
The retired basketball coach is just about done with his speech, and you nervously rejoin Sharon who is also looking at Wanda climbing up the stairs of the stage with a confused look on her face.
“We need to go get her,” you murmur.
“Why, hello young lady,” the retired basketball coach greets Wanda warmly, “Are you here to present the first award?”
Both you and Sharon spot Wanda eyeing the microphone with a gleam in her eye, and the two of you stand up in unison, exchanging alarmed looks.
But Wanda is quick, bumping the retired coach out of the way with her hip. She grabs the mic, tapping it quickly many times in succession. A high-pitched feedback echoes across the room, and more eyes turn towards her from all the other tables in the hall. The retired coach gives her a confused smile before shrugging and slowly hobbling away. A number of stagehands look on in confusion, checking their clipboards to see if this was part of the show.
And that’s when Wanda starts talking.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I have an award of my own!” She grips on to the mic like a vice, teetering on the middle of the stage. Her hair’s messy, her face stained with dried up tears. The straps of her dress slipping down her shoulders, and the half empty wine glass still in her hand, the remaining contents of it sloshing out onto the polished wooden floor.
“What the hell is she doing?” Sharon whispers from beside you. All around you, everyone in the banquet hall is whispering amongst themselves, and now all eyes are glued to your drunken best friend on stage. The tables full of professors, coaches and alumni all look around in bewilderment, frowning as if Wanda being on stage is all part of some kind of skit before the award ceremony.
You glance over at the jocks on table 2. Ari shoots you a perplexed look, Ransom’s got his phone camera out, Andy’s grinning from ear to ear. Colin has the decency to look away, an embarrassed look on his face. And Curtis? Curtis leans back on his chair, an amused look on his face as if he’s ready to kick back and enjoy the show.
That means it’s all up to you.
“Wanda!” You hiss, glad that your table is close enough to the stage that she can hear you, “Wanda, you’re drunk. C’mon, let’s go to the bathroom so I can fix you up.”
She looks down at you and smirks evilly, before looking away as if she hasn’t even heard you. Instead, she once more taps the mic once, twice, three times. She giggles drunkenly, “Testing, testing, is this thing on?”
“Wanda, babe, come down please!” Sharon joins in, but she also gets promptly ignored. She bites her lip before turning to you, “God, how did we not realise how drunk she’d gotten? She’s gonna make a fool of herself.”
“Wanda!” You try again, raising your voice slightly, “Come down, Wanda, please! The awards ceremony is about to begin!”
“It’s already begun! And like I said, I have an award of my own,” Wanda says, looking beyond you but never fully at you. You can see her lip curled slightly, and either it’s a smile or a sneer – you can’t really tell. But it makes your blood run cold, and a strong sense of foreboding washes over you again, like how it had earlier in your bedroom.
Quickly, you make your way over to the stage, hoping to pull her off before she said anything to embarrass herself too much. And it’s when you’re climbing up the stairs at the side of the stage that she resumes speaking:
“I know you’re all here for some… some random basketball award,” Wanda slurs, “But I wanna get my award out of the way first. And it’s the award for St. Andrews’ college’s biggest fucking slut.”
You’re halfway up the stage by now, and it’s when you step up on to the polished wooden floor that you pause, her words sinking in and a horrific feeling dawning on you. Oh no…
“And look! Here she is, the slut herself!” Wanda cheers, pointing straight at you with an unsteady hand. She throws her head back and laughs, her other hand gripping on to the mic for dear life. “Everybody, please give it up for Y/N! She already knows she’s the winner, nobody else could ever compare! Y/N is undoubtedly the biggest fucking slut on campus, and she wholeheartedly deserves this fucking award!”
Pin drop silence. For the first second, that’s all you hear. Silence that’s so loud, it’s almost deafening. Ringing in your ears, closing in on you like a siren. Then, you feel the waves of heat. Red hot fire radiating all over your body. Your face, your arms, your neck. Everywhere. You can’t quite believe what’s happening, but you know there’s a banquet hall filled with strangers staring straight at you as if you’re swathed in a spotlight.
“Curtis, get your girl the fuck off the stage!” You hear Ari say somewhere in the distance, and you can see him getting to his feet.
“No fucking way, that bitch isn’t my problem anymore.” Curtis whispers back, a note of glee in his tone.
You remain frozen on stage, your heart thrumming up to your throat. Wanda cackles, drunkenly beckoning you closer. Someone – either a professor or a coach – tries to coax her off the stage but she bats him away as if he’s an insignificant fly.
“C’mon, Y/N! Don’t be shy, come accept your award!” Wanda holds up her now empty wine glass as if it’s a trophy, “Ladies and gentlemen, don’t be mistaken! Y/N isn’t normally this shy! I mean, she certainly wasn’t when she fucked my boyfriend!”
A hushed gasp fills the hall, followed by a host of whispers. There’s a tiny voice inside you, telling you to run. Just run, run, run away from it all. But your feet don’t move, firmly planted in place as your whole body buzzes with heat and the lump in your throat gets bigger and bigger. Why was Wanda doing this? Oh God, what was happening!?
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Ari scrape his chair back and stride over to the stage, a venomous look on his face. At the same time, you feel a warm hand on your shoulder as Sharon comes up the steps to stand beside you.
“Wanda, honey, that’s enough.” Sharon says softly, holding her other hand out to your drunken friend. “Come on. Let’s go home.”
“Don’t you honey me,” Wanda spits out, “And don’t look at me as if I’m some sort of fool. If anyone’s a fool, it’s you, Sharon!”
Oh no. You feel yourself going light-headed.
That’s when Ari jumps up on stage, looking huge and menacing as he strides over to Wanda. He grabs her by the upper arm roughly, “Carla, shut the fuck up right now if you know what’s good for you,” He hisses.
“Well look who it is! Mister Knight in Shining Armour, here to save the fucking day!” Wanda laughs, and at least she’s not speaking into the mic anymore, but did it even matter? “Y/N doesn’t need your help, Ari! She’s a fucking slut who enjoys sleeping with other people’s boyfriends, and she’s proud of it! You’re proud of it, aren’t you, Y/N!?”
You’re in no condition to answer her question. Now, your body seems to be experiencing rapid hot and cold flushes. Icicles, then fire, then icicles, then fire again. And your face feels like it’s been stabbed by a thousand pins and needles. It’s a sensation you’ve never felt before, almost like an out of body experience. Like you’re floating except it feels terrible instead of liberating, and there’s absolutely no way for you to escape the impending doom.
Someone’s directed the live band to start playing again, and the room fills with music to combat the earth-shattering silence. But you know everyone’s eyes are still on the spectacle that’s taking place on stage. Everyone’s looking at you. And it’s like all your insecurities from the past month had come back in full force. Except so much worse, because now everyone thinks you’re a slut.
To your horror, Wanda goes to speak into the mic again. But Ari quickly snatches it out of her hands, throwing it aside and shooting her a glare, “Don’t even fucking think about it.”
“Okay, Wanda, you’ve made your point,” Sharon interjects gently. “I don’t know why you’d spread all these lies about your own best friend who’s been nothing but good to you, but it’s done now. Let’s just go.” Again, she reaches for Wanda’s hand, only for the latter to shoot her a sneer.
“Stop acting so holier-than-thou, Sharon. You’re not worth shit anymore, not since you got dumped,” Wanda laughs, suddenly aware of who exactly is on stage with her. She glances from you to Ari to Sharon, a look of evil glee spreading across her drunken features. “Why don’t you ask Ari again why he dumped you? Or better yet, why don’t you ask your new best friend Y/N?”
The band’s now playing an upbeat song, the lead singer urging everyone to get up on the dance floor in a bid to distract them. A few people do, but most stay planted in their seats, their focus still on the stage. Not that any of that even matters, not when Wanda’s words hit you like a ton of bricks. Out of your peripheral, you sense Sharon inhale sharply from next to you, and a deep feeling of dread starts spreading across your chest.
“Curtis, get the fuck up here and deal with her,” Ari seethes through gritted teeth. Curtis rolls his eyes, slowly making his way up to the stage like a panther going on a leisurely stroll.
“She sleeps with everyone’s boyfriend!” Wanda explodes, pointing another accusatory finger at you. “She doesn’t care about ruining relationships, all Y/N cares about is herself, Sharon! That’s why she’s been sleeping with Ari for months behind your back! And I kept her secret because I was being a good friend to her! Little did I know she fucked my boyfriend too!”
“That’s it, you’re fucking done,” Ari yanks Wanda off the stage, roughly pushing her down the steps all while keeping an iron grip on her forearm.
Thankfully, and yet a little too late, a stage hand drops the curtains. Dramatically, they fall down, shielding you from the stare and gossip of the audience. But you don’t feel any better. No, all you feel is pure, frozen shock. And the chaotic pantomime continues, even with the stage curtains now drawn.
“She’s been fucking Ari this whole time! She even fucked him out in the open at that frat party. In front of everyone, because that’s the type of slut she is!” Wanda cries out, stumbling over her words that act like bullets directed straight for Sharon. And, of course, you. “And she fucked Curtis too that night! Like the biggest fucking whore in the whole world! It’s true ‘cause he just told me! And God knows what she did with Steve, she probably let him smash too! As if slutting around on one campus wasn’t enough, she had to target a guy from a different college, and–”
She’s cut off by Ari plastering his huge hand over her mouth, all while she struggles and fights against him. He continues dragging her down the steps before throwing her into Curtis’ arms. Immediately, Wanda pacifies, grabbing on to Curtis for dear life while the buzzcut-haired man holds her gingerly.
“Get her out of here. I don’t care where the fuck you take her, I just want her gone.” Ari orders, narrowing his eyes when Curtis opens his mouth, “Don’t fucking argue with me, Everett. Go.”
Curtis rolls his eyes again, cautiously taking hold of Wanda who shuts up momentarily when she notices who’s holding her. She looks up at him with shining drunken eyes. “Curtis! You came back for me! Oh, I forgive you for fucking Y/N! I know she’s a huge slut and she probably seduced you! It wasn’t your fault at all, baby, I know that! Please let me be your girlfriend again, Curtis, please, I’ll do anything–”
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Curtis grunts as he drags Wanda towards the exit. Thankfully, she’s docile enough in his arms, and easily goes with him.
Leaving carnage in her wake.
They all think I’m a slut, you think it again, still frozen in place. And I am! I am, I am, I am! I’m a backstabbing slut and this is what I deserve. Total public humiliation.
You pull yourself out of whatever catatonic state your body wants to shut you down into. The stage curtains are drawn and you’re protected from all the stares of the guests, and yet you feel like you can still hear the buzz of their whispers. The gossip formulating, your name on the tips of all their tongues. Spoken with disdain and disgust. Oh, you want nothing more than to just shut down and disappear. But you can’t. You can’t shut down yet, not yet. Instead, you force yourself to face Sharon head on, and come clean about what you should’ve come clean about ages ago.
“Sharon, please, just let me expl–”
“It’s not true, is it?” Sharon says slowly. Her cheeks look red, her eyes stricken, as if Wanda’s drunken bombshell has reached out and slapped her across the face. Her mouth downturned as if she’s about to cry, and yet she’s using every fibre of her being to hold herself together.
Ari chooses that moment to come up next to you, instinctively putting his hand on your shoulder. And Sharon looks from him to you back to him again. And then her face falls, and it’s like it’s all happening in slow motion and you’ve got a front row seat to someone’s heart being broken in real-time. Her face crumples as realisation dawns on her, and a whimpering sound leaves her mouth.
“It is true…” She breathes.
“I am so, so sorry,” You begin, not even knowing how to start. You feel numb and disorientated, like Wanda’s screaming expose has hit you like a freight train you may never recover from. And yet you know not to be selfish enough to make it all about you in this moment, not when Sharon looks so betrayed right in front of you. And yet a tear rolls down your cheek as you look at her, “Sharon, please understand how sorry I am. I know I should’ve told you before, there’s literally no excuse–”
“You’re right, there isn’t.” She cuts you off coldly, but the iciness doesn’t reach her eyes which shine with a mix of tears and betrayal. “How could you? You were supposed to be my friend. Th-This whole time I thought you were my friend…”
“Hey, leave her alone,” Ari interjects, positioning himself in front of you protectively. “If you want to be angry at someone, be angry at me. She’s already been through enough tonight.”
“DON’T YOU DARE DEFEND HER, YOU LYING PIECE OF SHIT!” Sharon bursts out in a blaze of fury, “For once in your life, show me a little bit of respect and don’t fucking defend the girl you cheated on me with right to my face! I was your girlfriend once upon a time, Ari. And you act like it meant nothing.”
Her voice breaks at the end, and she fiercely wipes away her tears. It smears up her makeup too, but she looks like she’s past the point of caring.
“All I’m saying is to leave Y/N out of this, Sharon. Whatever happened between me and her wasn’t her fault at all. You and I can discuss this privately.” Ari says, his tone hard and serious. He’s standing tall, as if being exposed for your joint betrayal has him completely unfazed. You, on the other hand, feel like you’re about two feet tall.
Sharon looks at Ari incredulously, before her eyes shift back to you as if she can’t help it. “I trusted you, Y/N.” She says brokenly, “I..I liked you. I liked you so much. You have no idea how much I…” Her voice trails off for a second before it hardens: “…and this whole time you were going behind my back.”
You swallow harshly, “I’m so sorry. Please, I know what I’ve done is unforgivable. But just believe me when I tell you that I’m so, so genuinely sorry. Wh-When me and Ari started… I didn’t even know you back then and I know that doesn’t excuse it–”
“IT DOESN’T EXCUSE IT!” Sharon screams, and beyond her shoulder you can see a few people peeping through the curtains as if to continue watching the show. “It doesn’t excuse it at all, Y/N! You had so many chances where you could’ve come clean to me, but you chose to lie to my fucking face.” She laughs bitterly, as if she can’t believe all this is actually happening. “Oh God, how stupid could I have been? All those times when I was crying to you about my breakup, or when I was trying to help you get through your boy troubles… All that time you were sleeping with Ari and I never suspected a damn thing?! Oh, you must’ve been laughing your ass off behind my back!”
You scramble to explain yourself, you want to say more, but it’s like your throat’s closing up now. Like you’re experiencing some type of allergic reaction. Your skin feels like it’s crawling, like your self-disgust has just boiled over the edge and you’re covered in the shame and guilt that’s been festering inside you. Except it’s now also mixed with the sheer humiliation from everything you’ve just experienced. What could you possibly say to explain yourself? She was right. She was one thousand percent right.
They were all right about you, the voice in your head cackles. Steve and Wanda and probably everyone else who’s thinking it right now. You’re a slut.
“Leave her the fuck alone, Sharon.” Ari threatens lowly, dropping his hand from your shoulder and taking a menacing step towards the blonde. “I mean it. Not another word.”
Sharon tilts her head, and you find her looking at you. Really looking at you. As if she’s searching the plains of your face to detect the level of your honesty. And you want to look away, want to look down because of how humiliated you are. But you look back at her meekly, feeling like a fucking backstabbing rat. Oh God, why had you not just come clean to her weeks ago when the two of you had first started becoming friends? Were you truly that spineless? Were you really that much of a coward?
“Get out.” Sharon says coldly, the hurt on her face now replaced with an impenetrable mask of stone-cold indifference. “Get out of here, Y/N. I don’t want to look at you. I thought we were friends but it’s like I don’t even know you. And I never knew you. So just get out of here. GET OUT!”
Her venomous words make you jump. Your lower lip quivers, and you feel like the dirt at the bottom of everyone’s shoe. Ari turns around, tries to grab your hand but you back away quickly. Your heel catches on something and you stumble. Regaining your balance, you see Ari coming towards you, and Sharon staring you down from behind him. The pity and concern in his eyes, the pure betrayal in hers. Oh, you don’t want any of it! You just wish you’d disappear!
You take off into a run, your heels clacking on the wooden floor noisily but you don’t care. You do exactly what Sharon’s told you to do – you run. Gathering up your dress so it doesn’t get caught in your shoes. Oh, and who cares if it did? Who cares at all? Certainly not you.
You run out into the full banquet hall, trying not to meet anyone’s gaze. Trying to block out what they’re whispering. You know they’re talking about you; you know they’re looking at you as if you’re the biggest backstabbing whore in the whole world. Which you are. Oh, how spectacularly everything had fallen apart!
Somewhere behind you, you can hear Ari calling out your name. But you don’t stop, don’t look back. Not this time. You weave through the crowd, your tears blurring your vision but you don’t dare stop. Out into the hotel lobby, down the marble steps adorned in grand red carpeting with gold tassels. Feeling like a warped Cinderella who wasn’t the helpless princess after all, but instead the backstabbing villain. Out the front entrance, and the doorman stares at you but you don’t care, and the outside cold hits you like a ton of bricks.
As if on cue, the wind roars loudly, slapping you in the face with all its might and fury. And you remember earlier tonight, when you’d wondered whether the winds had been trying to warn you about something. Oh, your intuition had been right! Why hadn’t you just stayed at home?! Now, the wind swirls around you threateningly, and you just stand there in the bitter cold, as if daring it to attack you. All around you, the grass rustles, the trees cower, the very ground seems to shake as gust after gust hits at you, and your hair comes loose, and you’re about to start crying in earnest, and–
“Y/N, wait! Stop!” Ari grabs your hand, his familiar warmth shooting through your entire body. He pulls you into his arms, embracing you fiercely. Your burst into ferocious tears that you hadn’t realised you’d been holding in. Loud, wracking sobs muffled by his strong chest as he holds you close. “I’m so sorry that happened, baby. I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”
“I did!” You cry, another gust of wind hitting you like a wake-up call, and you push off of him with tears streaming down your face. “I did deserve it, Ari! I deserved all of it!”
There’s an invisible whirlpool around the two of you. Maybe you’re imagining it in your delirium, but it’s like a swirling of energy, entrapping the two of you together on this stormy night. The wind howls around you both, ringing in your ears as if to warn you again, telling you this is all wrong, wrong, wrong!
And Ari looks at you like his whole heart’s in his eyes, and they glisten with emotion that you’ve never seen in him before. And he holds you close, and cups your face. He wipes your tears as if to soothe you, but how could you soothe someone who was so beyond repair that perhaps repair wasn’t even an option anymore? How!?
“Let me take you home,” he whispers, “I don’t want you to be alone tonight. Please, let’s just go. And I swear I’ll deal with everything; I’ll deal with all of them. I’ll make them pay for hurting you. Just please, stop crying and come with me.”
“No!” You snatch your hand out of his and step back, shaking your head fiercely. “Don’t you get it, Ari? We’re not right together and we never will be!”
“That’s not true–”
“Yes, it is!” You sob freely, “How many people do we have to hurt for it to sink in that we just don’t work?” Ferociously, you wipe at your tears, not that it matters when new one’s flow down your cheeks freely, “All we ever do is fight, Ari! We just run around in circles and fight and hurt each other and hurt everyone around us! And now I know it’s ‘cause we just don’t work, and we never will!”
“No.” Ari says firmly, “I’m the one who hurt people, okay? Not us. Just me. And you got caught in the crossfire and I’m fucking sorry.”
You shake your head, “It doesn’t matter anymore. None of it matters, Ari. They all think I’m a slut and they’re all right! And I’ll never live this down and I don’t deserve to live it down! So just leave me alone, okay? JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!”
“NO!” Ari roars, louder than the wind itself, and louder than you too. “No, I’m not fucking leaving you alone! I told you that I care about you, and I’m never gonna leave you alone. So just… just come on. Let me take you home, baby. I’ll make it better, I promise.”
The blustering winds form an impenetrable current around the two of you, whistling and swirling with rogue leaves like a tornado that you seem to be trapped in with him. And in an ironic way, it perfectly encapsulates your relationship with him: a whirlwind. A tornado. A constant uphill battle filled with fights and arguments, always one step forward and then two steps back. Maybe it was time to just give up, to come to terms with how it just didn’t work between you and him.
You sniffle weakly, “Nothing can make this better. Whatever there was between us, it was never going to work. Not when it started out as a lie.”
Tenderly, yet charged with an electric emotion you can’t quite pinpoint, he cups your face again. Your freezing wet cheeks welcome the warmth they bring, despite everything.
“I’ll make it better,” Ari repeats, softer this time. He presses his forehead against yours. “You mean more to me than Sharon or anyone else ever did. And I know our relationship started out wrong because I lied to you. Constantly. I know that. But I promise you I’ll make it all better and you’ll never hurt again how you’re hurting now.”
You feel like you’re at a crossroads. You’ve gone through more emotional turmoil in these past few weeks than you have in any other point of your life. And each time, you’ve fallen back into Ari’s arms in a heap of tears. So, what about this time? Would you do the same thing again? Another circle? Another fight? Another heartbreak?
“I’m in love with you.” Ari breathes. And in that moment, even the winds stand still. And his eyes look like twin oceans with stars scattered inside them. And those stars in his eyes, those stars get bigger and bigger till they’re all you can see. And you can’t hear anything anymore, except for his breathing and yours. And you can feel only one thing, and that’s his hands cupping your cheeks as he gazes at you with a look of desperation mixed with something else. Something passionate. And honest. “I’m in love with you, okay? I’ve never been in love before but I’m pretty positive that I love you, and I promise I’ll protect you from ever being hurt again.”
In the distance, beyond his shoulder, a branch from a tree falls to the ground. As if unable to stand the wrath of the wind on this night. It crashes down, all the way down till it’s no longer a part of what it had once always known. You focus on it for a split second, before some kind of magnetic pull makes you look back to Ari.
“Why does it always take some sort of traumatic event for you to say these things?” You whisper, letting his words bounce off you. Not letting them permeate into your heart and set camp, not allowing them to let you hope. Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted to hear from him!?
“I’ve felt this way for a while,” he says earnestly, “I just didn’t want to admit it to myself. But I told you, I’m ready now. For everything. I love you, and I want everyone to know it.” He draws you closer, cradling your face in his warm hands. How are they so warm on such a cold night? How was he so warm when you felt so cold, cold, cold?! So freezing cold from the inside out?
I love you. I’m in love with you. I promise I’ll protect you. I love you. I love you. I love you.
Oh, his words were finding their way into your heart! You take a timid step closer, allow yourself to look into his eyes. Everything was crashing and burning around you. Your life was ruined, and so was your reputation. Everyone thought you were a slut and you had no friends left at all. But Ari was here. Solid. Real. Right in front of you. Saying all the right things on a night that had gone so horrifically wrong. Should you allow yourself this? Did you deserve it? Did he?
His lips have barely brushed against yours when you hear a loud shatter right next to you.
“You told me you weren’t going to be with him tonight.”
Steve. Standing less than a foot away from you. A glass bottle lying broken by his feet, the smell of vodka strongly emanating from him. His hair falls over his forehead, swaying gently in the roaring wind. His eyes black, blown out, barely there. Hooded, like he’s sad. Betrayed. Oh, how did he even get here!?
Your jaw drops open, “Steve, I–”
“How fucking dare you show your face in front of her after everything you put her through?” Ari growls, pushing you behind him before squaring up to Steve. “Get the fuck out of here, Rogers. Before I break your neck.”
You swallow harshly, “Ari, don’t…”
Steve sidesteps Ari, and those sad eyes look straight at you. Penetrating down straight to your soul.
“You kissed me earlier tonight, but now you’re choosing him.”
He says it matter-of-factly, his words slurring slightly but still clear as day. You feel a pang in your heart. From your peripheral, you see Ari bristle at Steve’s words, clearly taken aback by what he’s just revealed.
You open your mouth, but it feels all dried up. Like you’re back in the middle of the stage with an audience of people watching you get exposed for your betrayal.
“You don’t have to answer him.” Ari says to you, quickly recovering and grabbing your hand protectively before turning back to sneer at Steve. “Get the hell out of here. Tonight isn’t the night for your bullshit.”
“He’ll only hurt you,” Steve says, ignoring Ari and looking directly at you. “I told you; all Ari ever does is hurt people.”
“Shut your fucking mouth, Steve, or else I’ll–”
“Or else you’ll what, Ari? I don’t give a fuck what you do.” Steve finally looks at the brunet, squaring up to him till they’re both face to face. Each as big as the other, each as menacing as the other. But that’s where the similarities end. Ari looks wary, on edge. And Steve? Steve looks like he has nothing left to lose.
“Oh yeah? Is that why you’ve been dodging me all these weeks?” Ari barks out a laugh, but it sounds hollow, almost forced. And his eyes keep darting between Steve and back to you. “I’m telling you for the last time, Rogers. Walk away so she doesn’t have to see me kill you.”
“Stop acting like some kind of fucking hero, Ari. You of all people should know that’s not what you are.” Steve fires back, “You’ll hurt her, just like you hurt–”
“My car’s parked around the corner. You know what it looks like. Go, I don’t want you to see this.” Ari says to you, his hand dropping yours as he keeps his eyes on the blonde in front of him. You watch as his fists clench by his sides.
There’s a pause before Steve laughs. And just like Ari’s from earlier, Steve’s laugh sounds hollow too. Like neither of them are enjoying this confrontation. And neither are you, and yet your feet remain planted to the ground. The winds are still howling around you, encasing the three of you in a whirlpool. And within it, you sense the strongest feeling of foreboding you’ve felt yet.
“You still haven’t told her, have you?” Steve accuses.
A dark, anxious feeling pools inside your chest, twisting your veins, reaching straight for your heart. More secrets? “Tell me what, Ari?”
“Go to my car, I’m serious.”
“I heard your little speech from just now. I heard all your promises. How you’ll never hurt her again,” Steve shoves Ari. And it’s a drunken shove, but a hard one. “How you’ll protect her,” another shove, “How you’re in love with her.”
“Shut the fuck up, Steve. You have no idea what you’re–”
“Tell me, is that what you told my sister too?”
Everything stops. Even the wind, with how fierce and mighty it had been all night, comes to a screeching halt. It’s like the grass stops rustling, the trees stop swaying. You think your heart has stopped too. Steve’s sister? Kira? Ari knew her? The dark, anxious feeling doubles up, multiplies in a millisecond. You feel like your insides have turned to tar, and your blood freezes in the worst way possible.
“Wh-What’s he talking about, Ari?” Your question comes out soft, timid. As if you’re afraid of the answer.
Ari’s head whips around, and his cheeks are flushed. His jaw tensed, his eyes wild. Quickly, he shakes his head, “He doesn’t know what he’s saying, okay? Clearly, he’s drunk, and high off of something, and he doesn’t know what he’s saying–”
“WHAT THE FUCK DID KIRA EVER DO TO YOU, ARI?!” Steve erupts, making you jump. Ari flinches too, but Steve closes in on him, his dark eyes blazing. “What did she ever do to you? Except trust you?” He laughs bitterly, “Maybe that was her mistake. Trusting someone like you.” And then he looks straight at you, “Don’t make the same mistake, Y/N. He’ll run you out of this place just like he did my sister.”
Your lower lip quivers, “What do you mean?”
Ari grabs your hand and pulls you back, “Let’s just go. He doesn’t know what he means. He has no fucking clue what he’s talking about.”
Like it’s a hot poker, you pull your hand out of his grip, staring up at him incredulously.
“I have no fucking clue, huh? As if I haven’t been in the same house as her, watching her lock herself up in her room and cry for the past fucking year!” Steve says, and this time he squares up to Ari again, grabbing the brunet’s collar to make him look at him. “As if I haven’t watched her become a fucking shell of her former self, as if I haven’t watched her lose her smile, lose her personality, lose her fucking will to interact with anyone. All because of you!”
Now it’s Ari’s turn to shove Steve, and he does it with full force. Steve stumbles backwards, and Ari looks at him in fury. And yet he doesn’t say anything, nothing at all. And the sticky black tar coats your heart and starts seeping into your lungs, making it hard for you to breathe. Making it hard for you to make sense of what’s going on. Oh god, what exactly was Steve saying?! And why wasn’t Ari denying anything?!
“You can’t even deny it anymore, can you?” Steve spits out, “And now you’re out here actin’ like a fuckin’ superhero, promising Y/N the entire world. Well, why don’t you answer my question, Levinson? Is that what you promised Kira too? Is that what you fucking promised her before you spread those pictures of her to every fucking person you know?”
That’s when you feel like the wind’s been knocked out of you. You feel faint, dizzy. Like you’re no longer real. Ari turns to look at you, and you can’t even begin to decipher his expression but it’s like you no longer want to look at him. Pictures? Like nudes? Ari? Spreading private pictures of Kira around campus??? You shake your head, willing him to say something, to deny it all vehemently.
“She’s my sister,” Steve’s voice breaks, an outpouring of emotion that you’ve never ever seen from him. His face red, his fists clenched but not in anger, more so in desperate sadness. “She’s my sister and you were my friend and you fucking broke her, Ari. She couldn’t handle it, everyone talking about her, laughing at her. You ran her out of school, and you broke her. And now you’re gonna do the same thing to Y/N too.”
Ari swallows, looking stricken how you’ve never seen him look before. He sucks in his breath, and when he speaks, it sounds like it’s a stranger talking: “Don’t even act like you have Y/N’s best interests at heart, after what you did to her. And you have no idea what you’re sayi–”
“This is who he is!” Steve erupts again, this time looking straight at you, “My sister was so fucking trusting, she did whatever he asked her to. She sent him pictures that were supposed to be private, all ‘cause he told her to. She never should’ve trusted an asshole like him but she did, she trusted him with everything she had, and now look at her.” He shakes his head, his entire body shaking from either anger or grief or both. “And Kira, she was so broken over it, she told me never to mention it again to anyone, she made me promise not to. But you need to know who he really is. He’s a fucking asshole who’ll hurt anyone! He hurt Kira, he hurt Sharon, and he’ll hurt you too.”
“Let’s go,” Ari says to you, gathering himself and grabbing your hand, “Let’s just go and I’ll explain everything.”
For the second time, you snatch your hand away from his and shake your head, your mind racing and you think you’re going to be sick. Oh God, how many more times would Ari lie to you? “Don’t touch me.”
“Baby, I said I’d explain–”
“You knew Steve’s sister this whole time?”
“Yes, but–”
“Wh-Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you mention it even once?” Your voice sounds high, like you’re about to start crying from shock. And betrayal. You suck in your breath. He’d been hiding this from you, so what else was he hiding?
He tries to grab your hand again, but you take a step back in disbelief.
“Don’t you dare touch me. Y-You’re a liar! You lied again. You told me you wouldn’t lie to me but you lied again!” Oh, you feel like you don’t even know him anymore! Did you ever truly know him to begin with? You think back to Kira, so anxious that she couldn’t even look you in the eye. Had Ari really hurt her so badly? Spread around nude pictures of her and ruined her life and then continued on with his own as if none of it had even happened? “H-How could you do that to her? How could you–”
Ari opens his mouth to speak, but that’s when Steve tackles him. You scream, caught off-guard as the two behemoths fall to the ground. The wind resumes its wicked gusts, and this time it’s like it’s taunting you. Taunting you for forcing yourself time and time again to live in this fairytale utopia where Ari and you could ever possibly work. Each slap of cold air on your face reminding you that nothing, nothing in the whole world, could ever make the two of you work.
And maybe it was written in the stars, maybe this fight was bound to happen between the two of them. And yet you can’t make sense of it, watching with stricken horror as Steve grabs Ari’s collar again.
“You sick, twisted bastard! Fuck you for ruining my sister!” Steve punches him, but Ari quickly dodges it. And Steve’s movements are slower, sluggish. You feel sick thinking of how much he’s had to drink tonight. He was already drunk hours ago when he’d showed up at your dorm room, but now? Now he looks doubly wasted, teetering on the verge of no return and completely past the point of even caring about it.
Steve’s fuelled by alcohol and a tragic rage. No, rage was the wrong word, because the anger he was exhibiting now was nothing like when he’d punched the wall or when he’d lost his cool at basketball practice. Now, it felt different. Like he was charged by his own sadness, and an underlying sense of resignation. Like a part of him didn’t care what would happen to him by the end of tonight. Like he was getting all his punches in before he… before he…
“Stop!” You finally find your voice and yell out, but it doesn’t carry, your words getting lost in the wind. Ari shoves Steve off of him, dragging both of them to their feet. Steve throws another punch, and Ari dodges it just in time so instead of his fist connecting with his jaw, it slams painfully against his shoulder. But Ari doesn’t flinch.
“You have no fucking clue what you’re talking about!” Ari snarls, drawing his fist back to punch back. That’s when you throw all caution to the wind and run forward, coming between them.
“Don’t, Ari! He’s drunk, and he took all this medication, and…” your voice trails off, but the worry is evident in your tone as the realisation hits you. His medication for his mood swings. How much of it had he taken? Ari pauses, still glaring daggers at Steve, who looks back at him just as venomously.
“HIT ME, LEVINSON! DO IT, JUST HIT ME!” Steve shouts, louder than the wind itself. “It’s not like I’ve got shit to lose, so go right ahead! I’ve said what I had to say and now I’m fucking done.” His face twists, veins popping in his forehead, his blonde locks brushing over his wild eyes as they rest on you. His gaze softens somewhat, like a drunken, tragic hero. “I’m done, Y/N. It’s okay, I’m done. And I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for scaring you. I hope one day you’ll be able to forgive me.”
Why was he talking like that? You have no time to contemplate his words, however. Because Ari steps forward in front of you, his fist clenched to his side. And you’ve never seen him look this angry, and once more he draws his fist back, and you try to find your voice to stop him but nothing comes out. And the wind hits its crescendo, and there’s a clap of thunder serving as an exclamation point to this disastrous evening. Your entire body jerks, as if expecting something terrible to happen, and you close your eyes and you brace yourself…
A loud thud. You open your eyes, a scream getting caught in your throat when you see Steve on the ground. Motionless.
“Ari, what did you do!?” You cry.
Ari turns to you, breathing hard and yet he’s got a confused look on his face. His fist is still clenched but he shakes his head in shock.
“Nothing. I swear I didn’t do anything, he just… He just collapsed.”
You run over, crouch down next to Steve, trying to survey any damage. Sure enough, his face looks pristine, apart from a bluish-purple hue to his pale skin that you hadn’t noticed before. No signs of having been punched, however. But it’s his eyes that catch your attention, stricken and looking straight up. Almost like he’s unresponsive, when just a second ago he’d been on his feet and just fine.
“Oh god, oh my god. Steve!?” Your voice goes high with panic. With trembling hands, and quick, flurrying movements, you shake his shoulders. But all that does is make his head loll back, and he’s still staring up at the sky with a glassy look on his face, not reacting to you at all. Almost like he’s on another planet. Trying to keep your panic at bay, you quickly try and feel for his pulse, and that’s when you really start to lose it.
“Oh my god, Ari, he-he doesn’t have a pulse! I can’t find his pulse, I c-can’t– ARI, DO SOMETHING!”
Ari, who up until this moment seemed to be frozen in shock, staring at his still clenched fist as he stood over the two of you, seems to finally snap out of it. He springs into action, pushing you aside and crouching down next to the blond. He grabs his wrist while you look on, horrified beyond belief over what exactly was happening in front of your eyes.
He knew that mixing alcohol with his medication was dangerous, you think to yourself, another bout of sick realisation dawning on you. He’s pre-med, he’s studying to be a doctor. Of course, he knew! Had he… had he meant to do this? Oh God…
“He’s got a pulse,” Ari mutters, “He’s got one but it’s weak.”
Tears gather in your eyes as your head starts to spin, “H-He was on this medication, he told me earlier F-For his mood swings or something. And he was drinking too, and he probably took his pills and he drank and, oh God, I should’ve done something! I didn’t think it was that bad, I didn’t–”
“We need to call 911.” Ari says firmly, and you’re relieved that at least one of you is keeping their wits about them. You don’t know whether Ari’s just good under pressure or whether he’s in genuine shock too, judging by the frozen look on his face. Nevertheless, you watch him as he stands up, getting his phone out of his pocket and dialling the number.
And, almost like in cruel irony, the howling winds that had been swirling around you have now gone silent. Deathly silent. It’s like the three of you are in a vacuum, and yet you can barely even hear Ari talking on the phone. All you can hear is your fucking heart in your chest, and the racing of your own thoughts: this is my fault, this is my fault, this is my fault…
“Come on, Steve!” You urge, grabbing his hand and almost recoiling because of how limp and cold it feels. He’d been so warm when you’d kissed him hours earlier, so warm and soft. And it seems like lightyears ago, that kiss followed by the breathless silence. How you’d noted how he looked like he was one sip away from disaster. Oh, why hadn’t you done more? You could have sobered him up, but you’d been so wrapped up in your own problems. And now?
“P-Please, don’t do this. Just wake up. Or say something, just please!” And you don’t know why you’re having such a reaction – wasn’t it you who’d told Steve hours ago how you and him barely even knew each other? How there was nothing between the two of you? How he’d ruined all of that? Then why, why, why was your heart burning up right now? Like a ball of fire deep in your chest, waiting to explode. You tap his cheek desperately, noting the blueish tone of his lips, wondering why you hadn’t noticed that earlier. Beating yourself up over it.
“They’re coming,” you hear Ari say behind you, “An ambulance is on its way. It’s gonna be okay.”
But you don’t even hear him, too busy thinking back to when Steve had been in your dorm room earlier tonight. The sad look in his eyes as he’d turned to leave after your kiss. You can feel your tears soaking up your freezing cold cheeks now as you squeeze his hand.
“I forgive you, okay? I forgive you! Just wake up, please! Steve, just wake up! Didn’t you hear me? I forgive you!”
Your tears blur your vision, and his face becomes a pale blur. Fiercely, you wipe your eyes with your one free hand. And vaguely, you can feel Ari’s hand on your shoulder. And his is so warm. And Steve’s is so cold. Hot and cold. Cold and hot. You don’t even notice when you feel your own hand being squeezing lightly.
“That’s good,” Steve says faintly, his lips barely moving. You gasp and move closer, hoping you haven’t imagined it. His eyes flutter gently, like he doesn’t want to keep them open anymore. But his face looks relaxed, so relaxed that it’s scary, and it feels like you’re looking at a ghost. Those blue lips part once more. “Don’t worry about me. I’m comfortably numb, remember? I think I finally made it last…”
“No, no, no, no…” you scramble, watching as his eyes slip shut. You squeeze his hand again, shake at his shoulders, tap his cheek. Oh no, no, no, no. And all around you, the trees start swaying once more. The great gusts of wind continue, almost like they never even stopped, and another branch falls to the ground. The grass rustles beneath where Steve lies, and the moonlight shines on his face, making his pallor look a deathly kind of beautiful. Like an angel.
And it reminds you of the first night you’d met him. The night you’d dreamed of him. He’d looked like an angel in your dreams too.
The wind whistles with great might, and it sounds like a cackle. As if it’s mocking you. And Steve is still, and Ari’s still holding firmly on to you, and you can barely hear the blare of the siren as the ambulance slowly approaches.
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A/N: .....did Steve just.... OH MY GODDD. Well, if you made it this far then congratulations!!! I really hope y'all liked it. I'm so scared it didn't live up to expectations. I KNOW there was no smut but you guys I tried my best to see where I could fit it in... I just couldn't justify putting it in anywhere in the story and it actually making sense, pls understand! UGHHH I'm just so insecure about this chapter, but if you liked it PLESE PLEASE let me know what you think! Any thoughts, comments, feedback would genuinely be appreciated SO much like SO SO much omfg. Like any favourite parts etc? I really wanted to focus on romantic scenes between reader and the two guys and i hope i showed that! BUT YEAH PLS LMK WHAT YOU THINK ILY ILY.
Okay and as usual, here are some questions!! (y'all don't have to answer them, but just in case anyone does!!!)
Which romantic scene did you prefer? Steve coming up reader's window or Ari taking reader on a picnic? OR NEITHER???
What are your thoughts on Carla Wanda after this chapter??? LMFAOO.
Why was Sharon more upset with reader than with Ari? Hmm.....
Did Ari really spread Kira's nudes around :( ?? Or do you think there's more to the story?
TEAM ARI OR TEAM STEVE? ( if he's okay that is damn )
AND THAT'S IT! Hope y'all enjoyed it! I'm gonna stop yapping now bahahaha byeee ily ily ily
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malum-forev · 1 year ago
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First Trimester
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(This is a short drabble I couldn’t get out of my head, idk what this is lol)
Bucky kept his head in his hands, eyes closed tightly. His breath ragged.
He could hear Steve’s loud footsteps pacing the room while Sam stood rooted in place. He could hear his friends’ heartbeats thumping rapidly.
“And you two-“ Steve couldn’t get the words out.
“That’s usually how that happens.” Sam retorted sarcastically.
Steve’s hands shot up. “I’m just trying to understand how this happened!”
“Looks like I should have had the birds and the bees conversation with both of you.” Sam rolled his eyes.
“What am I going to do?” Bucky croaked, his throat dry and scratchy. The question was mostly for himself, wondering just how he would manage everything happening in his life.
“You aren’t going to do anything.” Sam ran his hand over his face. “Before you go into crisis mode like a chicken running with its head chopped off, you need to make sure it’s yours.”
Bucky’s eyes snapped open.
“Sam-“ Steve’s cautious tone only made the Falcon more angry.
“Here’s what we know,” Sam’s voice was firm. “You two have got super soldier serum running through your veins, it changed your bodies drastically. Which obviously means your swimmers were altered, doctors told you the probabilities of you two getting someone knocked up are zero.”
“Close to zero.” Steve corrected.
“Whatever,” Sam rolled his eyes again. “Now- this one goes around the tri state are area banging anything with legs.”
Buckys cheeks burned red.
“Two months later, someone comes around saying they’ve got a super soldier baby brewing- does that not sound shady to anyone else?”
Steve rubbed his hand against his chin. “When did Dr. Cho say she could get a paternity test?”
“Two weeks.” Bucky whispered.
“Then these are going to be the most stressful two weeks of your life, kid.” Steve slumped his shoulders.
She hadn’t let the crippling nervousness seep into her body, work, friends and exhaustion had been great distractors. But now, as the steel gates of the Avengers compound opened she felt it.
She was the one who had encouraged a paternity test when she knocked on Bucky’s door weeks ago.
She hadn’t thought twice about missing her period the first month. Long hours at the art gallery we’re to blame, right? But as the days turned into weeks and the strange knot in her throat tightened, she decided to take a test.
Not thinking anything would pop up except the not pregnant label on the plastic test, she left it on the counter and forgot about it. That is, until a three minute timer rang and the scariest word ever written was staring at her. Pregnant.
(Y/n) waited a full week before visiting a gynecologist. Some gel, and ultrasound and some probing later, she was pregnant and that was that. She didn’t even register the bean sized blob on the screen. A muffled sound replaced the cheery doctor’s voice.
“Is Dad excited?” The young doctor smiled. Dad, fuck there’s a dad that needs to be notified.
(Y/n felt as if she’d stuffed a handful of gravel down her throat. She nodded weakly and lied. “He’s ecstatic.”
What she should have said is: he’s terrified.
When Bucky saw (Y/n)’s text on his phone, he’s ego shot up. He whistled as he prepared some eggs that morning, thinking highly of himself.
I don’t usually go back for seconds but I guess I can make an exception. Bucky thought as he shaved his face that morning. He wore a pair of grey sweatpants and a tight shirt, a combination he’d read online was the bee’s knees for getting women riled up these days.
But there might as well have been nothing underneath those boxers he was wearing because the shocking news killed any kind of vibe he had been feeling.
(Y/n) rocked backwards and forwards nervously as she stood in his living room. She didn’t even want to come in but he’d insisted. Now, Bucky was slumped back on his couch with his eyes set on the floor.
“I know this sounds strange-“ she swallowed. “But I don’t usually do what we did, I don’t do one night stands. I love relationships which is why my friends convinced me to sleep with you- not that I needed convincing you’re like so hot but you know what I mean. Well, I guess you don’t know what I mean because you barely know me, barely know I exist.”
“You love relationships?” Bucky’s eyes widened.
“I-well- shit- I shouldn’t have said that. It sounds-“ You sighed deeply, trying to collect her thoughts. “What I’m trying to say is that, you’re the only person I’ve had sex with in- a long time. And I want you to know that I’m not telling you this to make you feel like you have to be involved- that is if we decide to keep it. I just thought you should know that I’m pregnant.”
She tried to make her voice sound firm and confident but her whole body rejected the idea. There was nothing she was more afraid of than this. This life altering decision.
“And you’re thinking of keeping it.” He whispered, blue eyes staring back at her.
(Y/n) nodded slowly then shook her head. “I don’t know. Yes, maybe. I have a stable job, pretty decent insurance and a nice apartment downtown so, I’ve got the basics covered. I’ve always wanted children, not now but- I don’t know.”
“I’m also aware this is insane news so, I understand if you need time to process or decide if you want to- be involved, I guess.”
Bucky slowly nodded. She wrapped her cardigan closer to her body and his whole body jerked up, standing from the couch.
“Ar-are you, showing?” Bucky’s curious tone made her lips tweak upwards.
“It‘s been like two months and it’s the size of a bean so, no.” She tried to lighten the mood.
“You’ve been to the doctor?”
She nodded. “She told me I could have a paternity test done in a couple of weeks, if that’s something you’re interested in.”
Paternity test- paternity. Those words didn’t even seem real to Bucky. It had been such a distant thing that the thought hadn’t registered in his mind yet.
“I’ve got a couple of doctors that would probably know how to handle that-“ he said pointing to her stomach. “With the whole, serum and everything. Would you mind if I talked to them?”
“I don’t mind, whatever’s better for bean, right?”
Bucky’s body was enveloped in a foreign feeling. So different than anything he’d felt before, an unsettling feeling in his stomach that brought goosebumps to his skin.
“The bean?” Bucky furrowed his eyebrows.
“Not the bean. Just, bean.” Her cheeks burned and a smile developed on her lips. “The doctor said it’s going to be a while until I can find out the sex so, I’ve been calling it that. Bean.”
“Bean.” Bucky repeated quietly, fighting from letting out a smile. He couldn’t let himself get involved, not before a decision was made. Did he want to be in bean- the baby’s life? Was he even the father?
(Y/n) and Bucky walked through the white corridors at the Avengers med bay in silence.
Both of them stopped at an opened door.
“You sure you don’t want to come in and check I don’t switch up the viles, rig the paternity results?” She regretted the joke as soon as the words flew out of her mouth. Bucky’s blue eyes widened. She had tried to lighten the mood but the only thing she succeeded was to make Bucky uncomfortable-
“Good thinking,” Bucky’s lips twitched upwards. “I’m sure having my old ass sperm in there was your plan all along.”
She couldn’t help a giggle escape her mouth. Bucky placed his hand on her lower back and lead her into the room.
He held her hand through the procedure and followed her back to her car after everything was done.
“I guess I’ll call you once the results are in.” Bucky bit his bottom lip as she nodded, the tired look on (Y/n) worried him. “I just wanted to say, again, how grateful I am you’re being so cooperative.”
(Y/n) saluted him. “Anything for our troops.”
Bucky tipped his head back with laughter. “Please let me know when you get home safe.”
Her feet ached, scratch that, her whole body hurt. (Y/n) usually worked a double shift on Sunday’s to get double pay since that was the day rich people usually liked to shop at the gallery. Even though this was routine for her, she felt extremely tired this time. Pregnancy was starting to take a toll on her body.
(Y/n) heard the rain patter intensify as someone opened the glass doors.
“H-hi.” Was all she heard.
“We’re closed.” She called out but no one answered.
A sopping wet Bucky stood at the front of the gallery.
“Looks like you need to buy an umbrella.” She smiled.
“I’m going to be a dad.” The words came out stuttered, like he was trying to stop them.
Bucky stopped talking the second he received the email. DNA test result came back positive. He was the father. A father. That word echoed through his mind all day but he didn’t tell anyone a single thing, not until he could figure out how to manage the information. Steve would try to find solutions, Sam would freak out, Nat would laugh and Tony would probably ignore him. Each and every one of his friends’ reactions would stress him out more than he already was. He had no one, no one to talk to about this. Except her.
(Y/n) sighed deeply, taking her heels off and walking towards him. Without saying anything, she wrapped her arms around his neck and brought Bucky close to her. The tension he felt between his shoulder blades disappeared the second he was in her arms.
She softly held his face in her hands. “I haven’t decided anything and we still have time to figure out wether or not we want to keep bean-“
“Bean, oh God bean.” Becky’s eyes met hers. I can’t let bean down. He thought.
“I understand if you don’t want to go through with this.”
“Look at me.” Bucky’s voice was hoarse. “I need you to know that I want this- I want bean so much you have no idea. The thought of me having a kid was so lost but you’ve- I- I am forever grateful and indebted with you, you have no idea.”
(Y/n) smiled. “So we’re doing this? We’re having a baby?”
“Let’s have a baby.” He said.
Part 2: Second Trimester
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puckinghischier · 1 month ago
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hi!! first off, i just want to say that i really love your work. i’m so so glad i found your blog. i just reblogged this quinn blurb of yours (which i’m obsessed with btw)
i was wondering if you’d ever be up to expanding on any of the aspects of it. for example; quinn seeing a guy flirt with you in the stands while he’s playing.. when the game was over what do you think that looks like? would say something to his girl and/or show her more with actions than words? or when he sees how excited she is to see him when he’s ready to head home is he just going to let it go? <- y’know like her smile’s able to erase damn near any negative feelings he’s having. playing on when you said about his girl being able to turn him to mush 🥹
✶₊˚⊹ apologies for the length of this.. when i get excited about something i tend to ramble. also, feel free to ignore this or keep it for later if you’d want. no worries either way ‹𝟹
oh i would absolutely love to expand on that
i don’t think he would dwell on it too much, honestly. because he does trust you and he knows that when you come to his games you’re watching nothing but him, but i think he would be a lil smug about it and the fact you never give them attention like you do him.
his eyes would find you as soon as he walks out of the locker room, ready to take you home and order a post game dinner while watching whatever series the two of you get sucked into on netflix.
you’d be talking to conor, just chatting casually, always having been close with him since you started dating quinn.
too distracted to realize he’s walking towards you, he walks up and engulfs you in a hug from behind.
“Q!!” you’d squeal, laughing as conor takes that as his cue to leave, saying a short goodbye and offering a small wave.
turning around in his arms, you come face to face with your slightly damp and scruffy looking boyfriend, loving his post-shower appearance after every game.
“enjoy the game?” he asks, admiring the joy on your face that only he seems to bring out.
“duh! you scored twice, how could i not?”
quinn’s ego inflates three sizes, remembering what spurred the second goal.
“oh, speaking of, who was your new friend tonight? sure you don’t want me to just buy out the seats next to you every game?” he’d only half joke, not letting you know he has genuinely thought about it before.
you rolled your eyes at him, swatting his chest. “just some chad, brad, or whatever else people name their overly confident, dickish sons.”
your words cause alarm bells in quinn’s brain, his tone suddenly turning serious. “what do you mean by ‘dickish’? did he get handsy? say something to you? do i need to make a call to make sure he never steps foot in this arena again?”
“no! no, nothing like that. he was harmless, just thought he could impress the pretty girl next to him with all kinds of hockey talk,” you’re quick to explain, watching quinn’s jaw visibly relax. “most of which he had wrong, by the way,” you continue. “but then he asked if i was here alone, and i told him no, that my boyfriend was on the ice, but he didn’t believe me. especially not when i told him it was you, the captain of the team.”
it was quinn’s turn to roll his eyes. people never tend to believe you when you tell them he’s your boyfriend, considering you two have kept your relationship decently private. if anything, they shouldn’t believe you’re his girlfriend, still shocked at how he managed to snag someone so out of his league.
“then, after you scored he made some stupid comment about ‘aren’t you going to congratulate your boyfriend?’ as if i had a direct line to you on the ice or something,” you kept explaining to him, causing him to recall the sour look on your face when he was watching you from the bench.
he kept seeing the man turn to you and make comments, figuring he was trying to get you to engage with him. you ignored him, though, giving him side glances every few minutes with a look of annoyance.
“but, after you came over and did your ‘sweetheart’ celly, he finally shut up and left me alone,” you giggled, referencing the goal celebration quinn coined for you. he’ll skate over to the glass where you sit, pretending to lick all five of his fingers as if he’s cleaning ‘sugar’ off of them, then points to you and draws a heart in the air before skating away with a wink.
quinn smiles in triumph, happy that his plan worked.
after watching the scene you just explained play out, he knew he needed an excuse to show some big display of affection so your seat mate would get the hint. so, he turned the dial up to ten and was taking every shot he could.
he hopes the glare he gave the man as he skated away from you was partially to thank, too. even though the second he saw your excitement-filled cheering for him, the man beside of you was (mostly) forgotten.
“well, i hope he realizes you only go for guys who can score both on and off the ice,” he winks down at you, knowing his choice of words was corny, but they succeeded in coaxing out the sweet sound of your laughter that he wanted needed to hear.
he loves knowing that you only get this giggly and carefree with him; knowing that he’s the one that gets to take you home each night. the security he feels in your relationship is unlike anything he’s ever known, blown away at how fully and wholly you love him, always hearing you tell everyone who will listen to you when you think he’s not paying attention.
even if he does manage to get grumpy and annoyed when people flirt with you during games or when you’re out with the team, he knows you never even give them the time of day. every time he catches himself staring daggers at someone, all he finds when he looks at you is your pretty eyes already trained on him, making him forget about any ill feelings he has harbored in his chest, just like tonight.
“alright, captain jealousy, let’s get home so we can eat, i’m starving. i was thinking sushi and gilmore girls, what do you think?” you suggest, grabbing his hand and starting the familiar trek to the car garage.
quinn groans, hating how much you love the annoying mother daughter duo, mentally preparing himself for the hours of torture ahead of him, knowing he doesn’t stand a chance of changing your mind.
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changisworld · 10 months ago
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hellooo, can i request a needy reader having a wet dreams so she start humping chan's leg while they're both sleeping and reach her limit; until chan wakes up and as soon he notices her decides to take care of her by making her grind on top of him with their clothes still on?
- take your time <3
sorry for taking so long to reply to this but i’ve finally gotten around to writing this for you!! i hope you enjoy it<3
18+, MDNI!!
word count;1,256
original masterlist here
all asks, re blogs & comments are deeply appreciated!!
©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.
PSA FOR ASKS/REQUESTS: i WILL get around to posting everyone’s requests i’m just sorry if it takes a bit of time but whatever you request i’ll post it!! IM ALSO MAKING AN ANON LIST!! just send me anything & tell me what emoji u wanna be!<3
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Warnings; consensual SLIGHT somnophilia, thigh grinding, pelvis grinding, slightly bossy channie, soft sexual acts, kissing, speaking of wet dreams, begging if you squint, Marking/kisses on neck, chans hand is around OC neck but it’s not rough
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chan wakes up randomly throughout the night a bit too warm from being under the duvet so he tries to wiggle his arm free from under your head to take off his shirt. He throws it to the side & he wiggles himself back into the same position as he was in beforehand but you move, he thinks he woke you up..
You sleep curled up in a ball with chan spooning you, he likes to slot his leg in-between both of yours for the added comfort so for your ass to rub along his crotch or leg isn’t uncommon.
He begins to try fall back asleep again but you move again, he then realises his thigh feels wet?
He looks down & stares for a moment, waiting for his eyes to completely focus in the dark & that’s when he sees it, a small dark wet patch on his sleep shorts he is wearing, right where you cunt is laying on top of.
Just as he goes down to feel the patch, you move again but this time, let out a really low, slightly dazed whimper.
Chans head darts up to look at you, eyebrows raised
“y/n? baby you awake? did i wake you?
Chan asks, whispering while putting his hand on your arm & gives you a weak shake, but you don’t turn around. He sighs & flops back down onto his pillow & pulls himself closer to you to try fall back asleep but you just keep grinding against his leg, it was slow & irregular at first but by this point you’ve picked up the pace a bit & are letting out ragged breathes from your lips.
Chan is now wide awake & can feel himself growing in his shorts. He lets out a strong sigh & contemplates for a moment.
Somnophilia isn’t uncommon for you both & you have both heavily discussed it before, You’ve woken Chan up multiple times by sucking his tip or cupping his balls & you’ve woken up pleasantly surprised to chans head between your thighs or his fingers easing their way into you.
Chan thinks about it for a moment & he thinks it’s a good idea to help you with your issue.
He trails his hands down to your waist & puts a gentle but firm grip on your waist & he looks back at the back of your head, still sleeping, smelling & looking as beautiful as always, he pulls your hips slightly towards him before pushing back. You stir instantly & he pauses but you don’t wake up. He begins to make you grind against his leg but he himself feels a bit touch starved. he shuffles your shorts down your legs so it’s your bare cunt on his leg, then he slides his shorts down too so he can completely feel you.
He takes a ragged breath in once he feels how wet you actually are against his bare leg. He starts guiding your hips quicker & a bit faster against his leg & you are hot to the touch(which he finds as a huge boost to his ego) & you are still whining at either the dream or chan? he tells himself it’s because of him.
After a minute or so your legs subconsciously tighten around chans leg & he can tell your close but before you can bubble over, you jolt awake which gives chan a fright & he tenses his arm around you.
“y/n babe you okay?” Chan whispers to you, reaching over & kissing your cheek. You sigh & let out another whine but this time, at the loss of an orgasm that felt.. so real?
“yeah, just had a dream, why you awake channie?” You whisper back, melting back into his touch. “where’s your shirt? your chest is really warm, i like it.” you let out a quiet chuckle & flip over so your face is in front of his, which is when you feel your wetness & also chans naked leg beneath you.
“was too hot so i took it off, what were you dreaming of hm? you look flustered, i can tell your cheeks are rosey right now.” Chan pinches your cheek playfully & you smile at him which he smiles back.
“Ah, just… hey stop teasing you already know what kinda dream i was having that’s why your shorts along with mine are gone” you nuzzle your face into his neck to hide yourself, a bit embarrassed. Chan laughs a bit before laying on his back & manhandling you so you’re now straddling him.
“Well i know you’re wet baby, you stained my shorts, i realised when i woke up. why not use me to get off hm? you were so close baby” Chan interlocks his fingers with yours as his hands lay on each side of his head, your arms caging him in from above.
“Channie i want you to help me, make me finish baby please” You start grinding against his hard on while you lean down to start kissing his neck, you whimper at the friction but also because chan won’t help you.
“Nuh uh, you can work yourself okay hm? you can do it you’re already so wet it won’t be hard, tell me, what were you dreaming about?” Chan puts his hand on your waist & starts guiding your movements again & starts kissing your shoulder, giving it little nips.
“you- i was dreaming about you, i was imagining us kissing, i-i don’t know why it turned me on so much, you drive me insane channie! ugh! please help me” You sit up slightly to look into his blown out eyes & his beautiful smirk
“kiss me then beautiful, you’re so amazing, your cunt is dripping all over me, you’re better than any wet dream ever.” You instantly lean down & kiss him, you don’t waste any time in using tongue. as soon as his lips hit yours, you suddenly feel so much more complete & you begin grinding a lot faster against him & he puts his hand around your neck & squeezes slightly which makes you whine into his lips which make his cock jump.
Chan can tell you’re close to the edge now so he breaks the kiss & moves down to your neck before he starts kissing & sucking new purple marks onto it, next to previous ones he has given you. You’re breathing heavy & whimpering as he does so, you grab the back of his head to keep him there as your eyes finally roll back. he moves his head just enough so he can look at you as you come undone without even being able to say anything other than his own name.
“c-channie, chan!”
Your orgasm hits you like a brick wall & is so intense. You flop over after it’s finally over & you’re breathing heavy. Chan helps you lay down on your side of the bed before kissing you on the head.
“that was so hot, you need to ride my thigh or pelvis way more often”
“stoppp you’re making me feel embarrassed, can i help your issue?”you put your hand above his hard on but he stops you & takes it off & kisses your hand
“i’m alright baby, but don’t be too surprised if you wake up to me giving you the best morning orgasm of your life.”
You both smile at eachother & you cuddle into his chest, you pillow talk for a while before falling asleep.
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satoruwiki · 10 months ago
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Naoya nsfw and sfw relationship headcanons pleeeaasse . He's a terribly guilty pleasure and not many people write him (probably because he's a toxic sh*t)
omg anon you’re so right bc who would want an absolute toxic misogynistic fuck of a man (me, i do/j) i was supposed to post this yesterday but i forgor, sorry! btw i may or may not be working a second version of the atrocious fic i did a few days ago abt him… if its of anybody’s interest…
͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏ ♡₊˚ Naoya is the type of man to…𓈒 ˚ ⟡
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content: jjk headcanons; half sfw/half nsfw; afab!reader; glimpse of the horrors you’d be going through as his partner lol
n/a: i’m making more content for naoya than my glorious blue eyed king lmao ;-;
these are my hcs! feel free to agree or disagree :b any request/interaction supporting this post is very much appreciated <3
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sfw ver! ୨ৎ
Naoya is the type of man to… spoil you rotten. Not because you deserve it—maybe you do—but because one of Naoya’s biggest weaknesses is his pride and reputation, and yours affects his. He can’t have his gf/fiancée/wife wearing low-quality or average clothing, you have to look worthy of him (at least on the outside). So he will gift you kimonos made with the finest fabric and the finest accessories to pair with. If you’re smart enough, you might be able to take advantage of that and manipulate him to buy you whatever you want, but you better be kissing the soil he walks on afterwards.
Naoya is the type of man to… be overprotective and ridiculously jealous. You won’t be able to go out by yourself. Not without him being there or at least one of his servants, what if another man tries to have a conversation with you? What if you flirt back? He doesn’t trust you or anyone but himself. He has to make sure you aren’t fooling around. Besides, you’re so weak—or at least that’s what he thinks—you need someone to protect you. What if someone disrespects you? He can’t let that slide, the only one allowed to treat you poorly is him.
Naoya is the type of man to… secretly like your praises. He won’t tell you, of course, but he does like having someone recognizing his strength—the main reason he’s so protective of you, trying to look like a knight in shining armour—and how great he is on his day-to-day basis. He will be pissed whenever you get mad at him and don’t praise him. He won’t say it directly nor apologize for whatever he did, but you might find an ‘apology’ gift on your side of the bed. If it’s a mistake you did—which to him is always going to be your fault—an easy way to get him to be in a better mood is stroking his ego with lots of praise.
Naoya is the type of man to… expect you to be the perfect wife. Naoya is a very demanding man, he expects nothing but perfection. He expects you to always look pretty, cook, and clean, like your typical traditional wife. Being a conservative man, he will expect you to not speak when gathering with the other clansmen—or outside in general—unless you’re allowed to. It’s for your good, he’d hate for you to embarrass yourself.
Naoya is the type of man to… only marry you for benefits. In matters of love, he is quite unfeeling, however, to maintain his position as the head of the Hei, he must get married and have offspring. This burden, as he would call it, is likely to be done through an arranged marriage. Just because you were chosen over the other bachelorettes doesn't necessarily mean you're at the same level as him—you will always be below him, and perhaps unworthy of him to his eyes—but you're definitely better than the rest, or at least you were the prettiest one. You might be of use to him.
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nsfw ver! ୨ৎ
Naoya is the type of man to… degrade the hell out of you. Naoya’s degradation IS NOT for the weak. If he already treats you relatively poorly daily, it gets worse when he fucks you. He’s also going to fuck you rough, so don’t even try to ask him to go slower, he won’t comply. Don’t worry though, he might make sure that you cum (even to the point of overstimulating you) as it boosts up his ego, it makes him think he’s so good he can have his partner squirting for him and begging for more—this is only when he's in a good mood though, otherwise, he couldn't care less if you cum or not.
Naoya is the type of man to… head push you on purpose for you to gag on his dick. He likes the messy and filthy look on your tear streaked face and drool running down your chin, it makes him want to shoot his load on you (which he will).
Naoya is the type of man to… slap you, during or outside sex. Naoya is very ill-tempered, he’s prone to get physical and slap you (just look at how he used to bully maki and mai) or have angry sex with you. Whether it was your fault or someone else’s, he’ll blow off some steam fucking you stupid, and expect you to have bruises frequently.
Naoya is the type of man to… punish you while fucking. Like I said before, Naoya is very prone to angry sex and will punish you as he fucks you. Expect lots of choking, spitting, clit and face slapping and probably your ass bruised as well as your scalp, he wont take in consideration of his strength and yank it hard.
Naoya is the type of man to… use you as his cum dumpster. He doesn’t care if you’re in the mood or not, that’s what you’re there for, basically. He just got back from a meeting with the clansmen and he’s stressed? Get on your knees and suck him off. He's mad? Bend over or spread your legs. You better not object or make any sort of complaint, just take it like a good girl. Chances are that you end up pregnant (because he’s the type to forbid you from using birth control), he hopes it's a boy or he’s gonna blame it on you. (even if he’s the one responsible for the baby’s gender but ok)
Naoya is the type of man to… have a feet kink. I literally have no explanation for this one, just look at his face and tell me he does not have a thing for feet 😭
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yeonmuse · 3 months ago
Text
MEDDLE ABOUT | DAY 7
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PAIRING Guitarist Sunwoo x interviewer Reader x Drummer Eric
WORD COUNT | 2.4k
GENRE Smut
WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ‼️ pet names like sweetheart and princess, threesome, double penetration, fingering, degradation, use of the word slut, oral , vaginal, dom sunwoo, dom Eric.
SUMMARY The two decide to take you backstage for a more private interview.
MORE | Day 7 of the Groupie Love Series
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You were nothing more than a simple intern so you were shocked to say the least when the day after your company had an opportuned interview with Kim Sunwoo & Sohn Youngjae you received a call from their manager. As per usual, you had been sitting behind your desk as bored as ever, your thoughts interrupted by the phone on your desk ringing, on the other line was none other than the manager of Kim Sunwoo and Sohn Younjae. Your company had had eyes on them for years now, the only company having been persistent in trying to get interviews with them. Usually when it came to interviews either the two of them rarely did them or they were usually always busy, but to your surprise this time their Manager called and asked for you specifically.
“Hello is this yn? The intern from Whisper publishing?”
“Mm yes sir this is she, do you need to be transferred to one of our journalists?”
“Actually you’re exactly who I was looking for, we received the copy of the interview entry and the boys aren’t too pleased with it, would you mind coming in for another interview today?”
“Um i’m sorry sir, but i'm only an intern, I actually have no clearance here at the company for interviews.”
“I’ve actually already spoken with your boss and she’s given us the green light, she thinks it would be a good trial for you and has agreed to let us borrow you for the day, so what do you say?”
Of course you said yes, so now here you were standing in the band's living room awaiting their arrival. You stood there taking in the art on the wall when you heard someone clear their throat behind you pulling your attention away from the art and turning to face the direction from which the noise came.
“You came.” Eric eyes you from head to toe as he slowly but surely makes his way inside the room.
“Of course, I'm sorry to hear that the journal wasn’t to your liking, I’ll try my best to make up for it today.”
“Well isn't that sweet.” Sunwoo makes his appearance only moments later, not even sparing you a glance as he enters.
“Maybe your coworker should have done their job properly yesterday.” His comment had hit a nerve, but this wasn’t the time nor place for you to let your emotion get the best of you, pushing your annoyance deep down you simply ignored his comment.
“Chill, it's not like it was her fault, it isn’t like she was the one interviewing us yesterday.”
“Yeah whatever can we get this over with.”
“Are you always this much of a dick?” The words had spilled from your mouth before you realized, earning a laugh from Eric. Sunwoo on the other hand was not so pleased.
“You should really watch your pretty little mouth.”
“Oh I'm sorry, did that bruise your fragile male ego?”
“Aren’t you an intern sweetheart, shouldn’t you know your place?”
“It’s best to just leave it alone sweetheart.” Eric warns earning an eye roll from you. You were completely fed up. Sunwoo was being a complete dick and they both expected you to just sit and take it?
“Intern or not, does that mean I’m supposed to submit to you and just take whatever the fuck you say to me simply for the sake of my job?”
“You don’t know how to watch your pretty fucking mouth, ill watch it for you then. I’ll make sure you leave here knowing how to speak to us.” Within seconds Sunwoo had been up out of his seat and standing in front of you. His hands were squeezing your face as you looked to Eric to stop him.
“Aw look at how she looks at you Youngjae, so cute you think he’ll help you when he’s just as bad as me sweetheart. He's the reason you’re here right Youngjae, seeing you in that white button up and cute little skirt yesterday I guess he couldn’t resist inviting you today.” Sunwoos hands rubbed your waist.
“Guess the secrets out then hm?” Eric sits back in his seat as he watches Sunwoo practically man handle you.
This very situation was something you hadn’t really seen yourself getting into, never had you thought you’d be standing here in their living room one towering over you while the other just watched intently. Sunwoos' voice and the words he spoke were immediately blocked out when his hand met your waist. Feeling his fingers brush across your skin you realized his touch immediately made your brain check out. Your own thoughts now in the clouds rather than your full attention having been on the two of them and getting them to stop. It wasn’t until you felt a tap on your thigh that you were pulled from your thoughts and back into the present.
“Hey sweetheart, you know you really should pay attention when spoken to, another lesson we’ll have to teach her.’’ Sunwoo places a finger beneath your chin forcing you to look at the two of them.
“Much better right Youngjae?’’ Sunwoo turns and shares a knowing gaze with Eric before his gaze shifts back to you. A glimmer in his eyes that had many unspoken desires hidden deep beneath them.
“Well, Since I'm caught there's no reason to play the nice card.” Eric chuckles and gets up from his place on the couch.
“But if you still want me to save you sweetheart I wouldn’t mind keeping you to myself.” Now there you stood trapped in between the two of them, you opened your mouth to speak, wanting to tell both of them off and curse them out for being such obnoxious assholes, but your body was betraying you.
“Nothing to say now sweetheart? You were so mouthy a few moments ago, we should teach her when to speak and when not to speak.” Sunwoos fingers slipped beneath your skirt, hooking his fingers around your panties he pulled them to the side and immediately buried his fingers inside your clit.
“I think she likes it, how pathetic.” Eric laughs and watches the way your face contorts upon feeling Sunwoos fingers enter you.
“What’s pathetic is you ignoring me here for some sick fucking fantasy.” You finally managed to choke out earning a laugh from him and Sunwoo.
“Oooo, so so mouthy, Guess I’ll have to stuff that pretty mouth and fuck it until you learn the way to speak to me.” Eric's gaze suddenly darkened as he looked down at you, any sign of his previous niceness having disappeared from his face.
Mere minutes later Eric was sitting back on the couch, fingers tangled within your hair as he watched the way your lips wrapped around his cock. He couldn't help but admire the way you looked at him like you absolutely hated him. Eyes full of tears, a face stained of makeup now ruined as he forced the entirety of his cock down your throat. Meanwhile Sunwoo seemed to have the most satisfying view, You legs spread wide as he had you bent over, breasts falling loosely from your lifted shirt as he filled you up from behind. His eyes traced her every curve. From the dip in your back to the curves of your waist, but the main visual was getting to watch the way his cock so easily pushed past your folds until he was completely bottomed out inside of you, your tight grip around him immediately pulling a groan from his lips.
“Fuck, if you keep clenching so much you’ll be full a lot faster than you should be sweetheart.’’ Sunwoo groans as he rests his hands on her your waist and his head falls back.
Eric gazes down at you, eyes full of hunger, he wanted to ravish you, to make sure every time you interviewed anyone else after this you’d think of them and the way they ruin you. Placing his hand beneath your chin he presses his thumb down against your bottom lip, not missing the way drool spilled down past your lips and chin as his grip on your hair tightened and he began to thrust further into your throat. Every gag and choke that came spilling from your lips made him eager to hear more of it.
“I knew those lips were good for something. Cant talk back with your pretty mouth stuffed full of my cock can you hm.?” He grunts as he feels your tongue graze his cock, he could never forget the way you had entered the room during the first meeting with your company your lips perfectly glossy and so plump, the moment you entered the room he found himself fantasizing about having your plump lips wrapped around him taking every inch of him without mercy.
It made him crazy, the moment he pulled his cock from the depths of your throat and he heard a soft gag spill from your lips.
“Are you gonna behave sweetheart?’’ Eric couldbt help but take you like art, looking up at him with your tear stained face and swollen lips.
“You're such a pervert.” A moan spills from your lips interrupting whatever it was you were prepared to say, Eric didn’t mind that he was enjoying you struggle with your words, enjoying how mouthy and disobedient you were when it came to talking back to them.
“Am i baby? Am i a pervert when you’re sitting here like a pretty little doll taking both our cocks like a good girl? Let’s not act like you don’t like being stuffed in both your pretty holes. Go ahead and show us your true colors sweetheart, go on.” He was right, he was completely right, as mouthy as you had been the entire time you citizen denied that now it was all for show. You loved it, loved being put in your place, loved them both filling you up and fucking the brat out of you, and Eric saw right through you.
Eric simply sits back and lets you take over, his eyes watching you intently as you gazed at him with such intimate eyes while working your tongue over his tip and shoving his entire cock back into your mouth, the force of Sunwoos thrust forcing him even further down your throat. Sunwoos cock shoved so deep into your cunt you’d have sworn you were seeing stars especially as his fingers met your clit. He rubbed rough circles against you as he watched how his entire cock pushed in and out of you with ease from how wet you were. He didn’t miss the way your legs trembled or how youd desperately fuck back against him which needless to say brought a smirk to his lips. Your moans were swallowed back up as you made sure Eric was also well taken care of in front of you.
“Such a needy little slut, Supposed to be here for an interview and you’re so pathetically taking both our cocks. How unprofessional.’’ Eric's gaze had lingered on you long enough to know that you were reaching your limit, too bad even when you surpassed that limit they didn't plan on being done with you.
“Shit she’s clenching so fucking tight” Sunwoo grunts, his nails digging into the skin of your hips earning a soft cry from you that set a fire in their eyes. As the two of them were closing in on their release it seemed the both of them grew rougher with you, as if competing with one another to see who could tire you out best. Each thrusting into you with rough and merciless thrusts of their hips until both your mouth and cunt were full to the brim with their cum. Eric pulls out with a heavy breath and you are given no time to breathe as you’re immediately yanked into Erics lap and Sunwoo now towered over you. With no warning Eric pulls your hands behind your back and holds your wrists together as he shoves into you making you let out a loud cry. Now you were being stretched out for the second time that night, your sensitivity of having been fucked by Sunwoo combined with Eric now stretching you out made your legs go numb and your eyes roll back. Sunwoo took in the dazed and fucked out look on your face with pride as he forced your head up by pulling your hair back. In no time he had you sticking out your tongue to take him down your throat without him ever having to order you.
“Look at that, such a good girl when you want to be’’ Sunwoo coos as he wraps his fists around your hair, his muscles bulging as he forces your hair into a ponytail and tugs your head forward before forcing his cock down your throat, not missing the gags that spill from your lips before you finally hollow out your cheeks to help you take it. The vibrations of your mouth seem to have quite the effect on him as they immediately provoke a moan to spill from his lips. All while Eric guides the rotation of your hips in his lap, his fingers playing with your nipples as if strumming the strings of a guitar. His hips bumping against your ass with each thrust, the sounds of moans and heavy breathing filled the room as they both drilled into you. Eric found delight in watching the way you bounced in his lap, while hearing the sweet sound of your pleasured cries as they both fucked some manners into you.
Both of them loved the way you seemed to fall apart, that mouthy woman from moments ago seeming to have gone away as you sat between the two of them taking their cocks like an obedient little thing. With a loud groan Eric forces you further down onto his cock, pressing his hips against your bare ass as he shoots his cum deep inside your cunt completely coating her walls. Sunwoo ,wasn’t too far behind, his cum spilling deep into the canal of your throat.
“Look at how good you are when you just sit and listen.” Eric chuckles as he spreads your folds apart with his fingers watching how both he and Sunwood cum came spilling out of you.
“I don’t mind her being a brat we’ll just have to fuck it out of her over and over again.”
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hiraethwrote · 7 months ago
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no shot - satoru gojo (& suguru geto)
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✧ pairing: satoru gojo x f!reader (main), suguru geto x f!reader ✧ summary: captivated by a mystery girl at a party, satoru is adamant in pursuing you. turns out is not as easy as it seems, and it doesnt help that his friend is also interested, and might have the upper hand. ✧ cw: some cursing, alcohol consumption, intoxication, sexual tension, teasing, lowkey dual pov, just fun ngl ✧ word count: 4.5k
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“Who’s that?” Satoru asked, nudging his friend with his elbow, bringing his attention to the girl who was dancing on a table across the room.
“Hm? Oh, her. Shoko invited her,” Suguru answered, as Satoru couldn’t keep is eyes off this mystery girl.
“How come Shoko never told us she had friends like that?” He was in awe by this girl, as she was clearly the life of the party. Satoru took a quick glance at Suguru to see that he too was somewhat entranced by the girl, but tried his best not to make it too obvious.
“Think it’s just you. I’ve met her briefly before.” With that, Suguru captured Satoru’s full attention, a small, victorious smirk plastered on his face at the frustration he knew he was causing his friend.
“Unfair,” he whined. “How come Shoko introduced you?”
“Probably because I wouldn’t embarrass her,” Suguru snickered, which he quickly regretted. Just as he was about to take a swig from his drink, Satoru bumped into his elbow, causing him to spill down his shirt. “Asshole.”
“Ops,” Satoru said sweetly, Suguru staring daggers at him, desperately trying to wipe his shirt. As his chuckle trailed off, he turned his attention back to the girl.
She was still on top of the table, moving her body to the rhythm, a drink in her hand. There was something so captivating about her, and he wasn’t alone to think so. Around the table, she had an audience of admirers. Satoru found himself intrigued by how she was entirely in control, giving them just enough attention to keep them focused on her.
The next second, some random guy climbed up on the table and joined her, placing his hands on her hips. Turning around to face him, there was a mischievous grin on her lips. Slowly, she traced her fingers up his chest before grabbing the hem of his t-shirt and pulled him down closer to whisper something in his ear. Whatever she said, it seemed to shatter his ego as his eager smile evaporated before he shamefully climbed down from the table.
“You know her name?” Satoru asked, leaning back against the wall.
“I might.”
“You’re not going to tell me?” A smile of disbelief on Satoru’s face.
“Why would I?” He could hear the smirk in Suguru’s voice. “You spilled my drink. Besides, you’re competition.”
Satoru instantly let out a taunting scoff. “That’s almost cute. We both know I’m the one going home with her.” It bothered him that Suguru seemed completely unfazed by his comment, the smirk still lingering on his lips as he took another swig of his drink.
“I feel tension,” Shoko cooed as she came stumbling over from the kitchen. “Are you guys bickering again?”
“It’s actually serious business,” Satoru said as he took a deep breath, straightening his posture. “Suguru actually thinks he stands a chance against me.” Shoko turns to look at Suguru in hopes of getting some context, only to see him pinching the bridge of his nose.
“And this is about?”
“A girl,” Suguru answered simply. Shoko’s eyebrows raised in surprise, looking between the two boys.
“I don’t see why it would matter. You two never go for the same girl.”
“That’s until your friend came into the picture,” Satoru continued to explain, turning his head towards the girl. She had now climbed down from the table, and he saw her down a shot before slamming the glass down on the table in front of her.
“My friend-“ Shoko trailed off in confusion and she followed his gaze to see who he was looking at. A loud cackle escaped her once she saw the girl they were all staring at. “Ain’t happening.”
“What did I say!” Satoru cheered, teasing Suguru who just rolled his eyes, pretending it wasn’t getting to him.
“No, no-“ she laughed. “I mean, neither of you stand a chance.” They both narrowed their eyebrows at her.
“That’s ridiculous, look at me.” A huge grin flashed over Satoru’s face, showing of his charm. Over Shoko’s shoulder, he saw Suguru keeping a close eye on the mystery girl, still trying to make it look casual.
“I’m surprised you’re into her, Suguru,” she said excitedly, turning towards the raven haired boy. A small, cheeky smile grew on his lips.
“Don’t encourage him!” Satoru interrupted. He looked like a child, nearly stomping his feet with frustration, most likely caused by the alcohol in his system.
She shakes her head, the excitement quickly disappearing as she brings her focus back to the conversation. “Besides the point. Just believe me when I say, neither of you are going to get with her.”
“Can you at least tell me her name?”
“Don’t tell him. It’s fun to watch him squirm,” Suguru interjected.
“You’re on your own, Satoru,” she said with a devilish grin. She hooked her arm with Suguru’s and pulled him after her towards the balcony, probably for a cigarette, leaving Satoru standing alone.
⋆⭒˚。���
It hadn’t taken Shoko a lot of convincing to get you to join her for the evening. You never shied away from a party, as it had a tendency to do wonders for your confidence. When drunk, you felt like you lost some of your inhabitants, just to the point where you were able to offer more of yourself than usual.
Not to mention, it wasn’t just the alcohol that got you drunk, but also the atmosphere. Tons of people just enjoying the music, talking to each other and letting the alcohol flow. As long as you didn’t take it too far, you had no reason to complain.
Now you found yourself on top of a table, dancing and singing along to the music blasting through the house. Around the table were some desperate fellas, trying to get your attention. Every once in a while you shot them a look and a smile, which kept them around to feed your ego a little longer.
It was just cheap enjoyment, as being perceived as attractive by sleazy men who’d sleep with anything that let them, wasn’t something to brag about. But you would be lying if you said you didn’t like having their eyes on you.
Your enjoyment was somewhat haltered when you felt a pair of hands land on your hips, turning you around. The man who met you was relatively handsome, you’d admit. His dark hair complimenting his sharp features. But as his eyes traveled your body, you saw a look in them that you didn’t appreciate.
Meeting his gaze again, you teased him with a smile and a quick glance at his lips. You trailed your fingers up his chest, feeling his heart beat rapidly, before grabbing his black t-shirt to pull him down. His ear was right by your lips, as you whispered “brave of you to come up here and join me, as if you have a chance.” When you pulled away, the lust in his look had evaporated and had been replaced by an expression of shear embarrassment.
He climbed down from the table, shrinking as he walked away with his pride wounded. And yet again, your confidence was boosted. Something about rejecting desperate guys, who might have stood a chance if they were just acting decent, filled you with some sorts of joy.
Pulling your attention back to the party, one of your other girl friends grabbed your hand and pulled you down from the table before shoving a full shot glass into your hand. She didn’t have to ask you twice, downing the shot in one go and slamming it down on the table, a loud cheer escaping the two of you as you did so.
Eagerly, you grabbed her hand and pulled her into the crowd to dance, planing to just spend the rest of the evening with your friends. However, that plan was quickly ruined when you crashed right into what seemed to be a firm chest and a pair of strong hands grabbed your arms to steady you. A small lump began to grow inside you when you saw you’re friend give a big-eyed stare at whoever was standing behind you, swallowing the lump she had in her own throat.
“I’ll leave you two,” she said with a drunk giggle and she was gone before you had the opportunity to keep her from leaving. With a sigh, you turned around, preparing yourself to meet whatever creep was trying to get with you next.
But when you turned around, you were met by a tall figure. Your eyes traveled up his body until you met his face. Whoever he was, he was devastatingly beautiful, wearing a flattering smile, his snow white hair styled simply to hang just slightly over his eyes. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t noticed him in the crowd during the evening. With his tall stature, he did kind of stick out in the crowd.
“Careful there,” he spoke, his voice playful with the facial expression to match it.
“Sorry,” you said loudly so he could hear you. “Didn’t see you.”
Smoothly he leaned forward towards your ear. “What’s your name?” He began to pull away so he could look at you, but you quickly grabbed his shoulder to keep him on your level so you wouldn’t have to talk so loudly. But in the corner of your eye, you saw a cheeky smirk creep on his face when your hand touched him.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“I would actually,” he said before pulling away for real this time, his eyes staring directly into yours. It was so evident what his intentions were. “Can I get you a drink?”
“I’m perfectly capable of getting my own drink, thank you.” You’re smile was sweet as sugar, but it seemed he saw right through your act, licking his teeth at your response.
“I don’t doubt that.” Your eyes lingered on his face as he took a quick glance around the room. You were truly mesmerised by his beauty, but it seemed like his ego didn’t need your confirmation so you weren’t going to let him know. It seemed the universe was working against you, as someone bumped straight into you causing you to be pressed up against the stranger once again. You were suddenly thankful the lights were dimmed, so he wouldn’t be able to see how your cheeks were tinted light pink.
He suddenly grabbed your hand and started escorting you through the crowd, making the path easy for you. Eventually, you felt a sense of relief the moment you were reintroduced to some fresh air, making you realise how stuffed it was inside.
“Now, isn’t this better? Now we can actually talk.” He towered over you, skillfully playing into the impression he wanted to give of.
“Seeing you took me hostage out here,” you sighed as you jumped up on the porch banister.
“You’re feisty, aren’t you?” The smirk never left his face. You felt one make its way to the corner of your mouth as well, but it was one out of self satisfactory.
“You’d be surprised it really sieves out the worst of them.” It was true. From your experience, if you played too hard to get, to the point where the reward would never be worth the work, it seemed to keep the biggest sleazes away at least.
“I’m Gojo. Satoru Gojo.” He surprised you when he actually extended his hand for you to shake. You politely shook it, as the realisation of who he was dawned on you.
“Oh, you’re Shoko and Suguru’s friend.” He couldn’t help but get annoyed at your comment, as he imagined Suguru’s satisfied smile if he’d heard what you said.
He wasn’t going to let that get to him. “So you’ve heard of me,” confidence oozing from his voice.
“Your name might have come up at one point,” you shrugged simply. That was a lie. He’d been brought up in conversation on multiple occasions, but you were under no circumstances going to let him know that.
“Funny you say that, because Shoko has never mentioned you.” You couldn’t help roll your eyes at his lame attempt at teasing you.
“I think that might be more because of you rather than me.”
It surprised you to see how fragile his ego really was. Sure, he was beyond confident and he rarely let it waver. Nonetheless, his cocky front took a hit at every comment you threw at him, and he worked hard to keep up his appearance. It gave you a reason to believe that his ego was more an act than anything else. It was clear he was an extroverted individual who enjoyed the attention he received, but there was something deeper lurking just beneath the surface. And as much as you hated to admit it, that secret depth he was hiding made you want to crack through that exterior.
“You still haven’t told me your name,” he said, glossing over your comment. He took one step closer to you, your eyes never breaking contact as he did.
“Y/n,” you spoke softly, letting your eyes flicker to his lips. He repeated your name back to you, smooth as silk, creating a reaction within you that you had no control over. It sounded so beautiful when he said it so passionately, like he already knew you. “Is this how you get the girls? All natural charm, pretending like you’re genuinely interested?”
He scoffed at you, the smirk still present. “Who says I’m pretending?” He continued to inch closer to you.
“What?” A somewhat patronising chuckle escaped you. “You telling me a guy like you puts in real efforts with strangers at parties?”
“A guy like me? Meaning what?”
“Cocky.” Your statement was only confirmed by his chuckle. It absolutely frustrated you that you actively had to fight against his charm that came so easy to him.
Whenever you attended parties, you never planned to go home with anyone. Quite the opposite, if you were honest. After a few one night stands here and there, you’d quickly become aware it wasn’t for you. The only part of that process you found entertaining was some sort of confirmation that you were desirable. The guys who usually tried to get with you had the same amount of charisma as a rock, so turning them away was a piece of cake.
But Gojo wasn’t like your run-of-the-mill guy hitting on you at a party. Where most guys gave up, he stood proud. His natural charm was slowly but surely chipping away at your cold front, and you hated it. You craved the control, but it seemed he might have the stronger hand.
“Well, I’d like to say I have something to cocky about.”
“Narcissism isn’t attractive.”
“So you say, but you’re still sitting here.” He got you there. In no way was he forcing himself on you or demanding anything from you. It was unspoken that you were allowed to leave at any point if you wanted to, but you couldn’t get yourself to jump down from the railing and leave him standing.
“Maybe I just enjoy the attention,” you simply shrugged.
“That I know.” You squinted your eyes at him, signalling for him to continue his statement. “When you were dancing, you loved having them look at you. You fed on it.”
All you did was smile, biting you bottom lip. You never flirted like this, and if your friends had seen you now, they would never let you hear the end of it. How you usually took pride in being unobtainable, but now you were suddenly folding for some random guy at a party. Not to mention, one of Shoko’s closest friends.
You’d been so hypnotised by him that you hadn’t noticed he had approached you to the point where he had gracefully positioned himself between your legs, his hands resting on each side of you. Your heart was pounding against your chest and he continued to lean in closer. Having him so close to you definitely made your mind run wild with ideas. The party-girl in you was so tempted to hook your arm around his neck to pull him closer and connect your lips, let him have his way with you. But you didn’t want him to win so easily.
Just as he was about to kiss you, you turned your head to the side and he winced in disappointment. You chuckled drunkenly as he straightened his posture, but remaining between your legs and now resting his hands on your thighs.
“You’re a tease.” He tried to act offended, but you had a sneaking suspicion he enjoyed the chase as much as you did.
“I’m the tease? Do I have to remind you who is pursuing who here?” You felt his hands give you a soft squeeze, forcing you to focus on keeping your breath steady. His touch was so tender, like he ached for it, but careful not to hurt you.
“Still, you’re the one who begs for attention.” He tried to lean in closer again, ever the arrogant smile on his lips. Carefully, with just the lightest touch, you place your fingertips on his soft lips to stop him again.
“I never beg for it,” you said rather matter-of-factly. “It’s not my fault people give it so willingly.”
If it was even possible, he wanted you more now than he did earlier. At first, it was just your aura that had attracted him. Radiating assertiveness, something he’d always found intriguing. It wasn’t a secret he was spoiled in several arenas of his life, used to people just handing him stuff. So the second someone who didn’t fall at his feet came along, he knew he had to know more.
Then he’d gotten the opportunity to take a look at you up close, and that won him over completely. You were nothing less of stunning, he thought. Your eyes sparkled with a sense of adventure, and your smile was warm and kind. Not to mention the way you carried yourself, so sure of who you were.
“Have you ever been told you’re quite persistent?”
“Nah, not really. I never have to be.” You let out a snort that quickly turned into a small chuckle, your fingers now resting carefully on his chest. If you focused your attention to the touch, you swore you could feel his heart beating incredibly fast.
“You’re truly a character.” It might have sounded like an insult, but it wasn’t meant as one. Luckily, it didn’t seem he took offence.
His shoulders rose quickly in a small shrug. “I’m just used to getting what I want.”
“If what you want is a quick fuck, I’m a hundred percent sure there’s tons of girls inside willing to give it to you without all the hassle.” He just slowly shook his head ‘no’ as you spoke, his hand finding its way to your neck. Carefully, he placed his thumb under your jawline and slowly tilted your head backwards for better access.
Fucking hell, the things he was doing to you. Once again he was leaning in closer, ever so smug. But this time, you were doing nothing to stop him. Finally you were surrendering yourself to him, preparing to lose the battle that had gone unsaid.
You’d closed your eyes, your knees slightly clenching at his hips with anticipation. So ready for his lips to finally collide against yours, but you were startled when Gojo jerked away.
Opening your eyes, Gojo was no wearing an irritated face as a strong hand was placed on his shoulder.
“Is this man bothering you, miss?” A groan could be heard from Gojo at the presence of his best friend. Well— now former best friend.
Reluctantly Gojo took a respectable step back, but still staying close to you. Once he was no longer so dangerously close to you, you felt some tension leave your body with a deep breath you were unaware you had been holding.
“Suguru,” you beamed, jumping down from the railing and quickly embracing him in a genuine hug, before nonchalantly positioning yourself beside Gojo again. “It’s great to see you again.”
Your excitement didn’t go unchecked by Gojo, who was scowling at Suguru. The two boys shared a knowing look, and Satoru had a strong desire to wipe off that contempt smile Suguru was wearing. Both you and Suguru knew each other a lot better than you’d previously let on, which bothered him more than it should have. He had no idea to what degree you knew each other, if it was simply a friendly coffee or if you’d slept together. Either way, Suguru was having the time of his life torturing his friend.
“Same to you. You look as beautiful as always.”
“You don’t look too shabby yourself.”
“You two seem to be getting along nicely.” You turned your head to look at Gojo, who had turned a lot more tense than he was mere moments ago.
Your competitive side was more than pleased by Suguru’s arrival, saving you from the agonising future of waking up besides Gojo the next morning and admitting defeat. But it would be a complete and utter fabrication to say you weren’t disappointed.
“Pfft, ‘getting along’ might be taking it too far.” You had managed to regain some of the feisty personality, as Gojo had put it. You didn’t have to look at him to know he had turned his attention to you again, his stare drilling into you.
“You’re quite the liar,” Gojo chuckled, tossing his arm over your shoulders and pulling you closer. His movements were a lot more sharp and drastic, unlike before Suguru joined you. It dawned upon you, as you saw them look at each other, saying a whole lot without speaking a word.
You’re evening had somehow circled back to where it started, by having your confidence boosted. They were fighting over you, the looks between them saying everything. Maybe you should just be thankful Suguru joined after all. You had to press your lips together in a thin line to choke back the laughter bubbling up.
You rolled your eyes at Gojo’s comment, but in reality you were finding the whole interaction quite enjoyable. “Maybe just enough to bring him along to coffee next time,” you said, knowingly fuelling the fire. Gojo’s body tensed up even more against you. Suguru shifted his focus from his friend to you, making eye contact.
The intensity of his look told you he hadn’t come over just to piss off his friend, but also because he himself genuinely wanted to pursue you as well. You had to break the eye contact as your cheeks began to heat, taking a deep breath through your nose. Unlike Gojo, Suguru was calm and laidback. It made him attractive in a completely different way than Gojo, the kind of attractive that snuck up on you.
Gojo’s confidence was built on a fundament of knowing what people thought of him, aware that people found him attractive. Whereas Suguru’s was rooted in the fact that he didn’t care what people thought of him. And if he had been into you the period you’d known each other and respectfully not made a move, just made him more appealing to you.
“Coffee, huh?” The look Gojo gave his friend only seemed to amuse him more. “Briefly, my ass,” he whispered under his breath. only you being able to hear it.
How had you ended up here? You’d had a perfect plan of your evening. Dance, drink, flirt innocently, and generally have a good time. Then these two guys had come along and turned the evening upside down. They’d proven themselves to not be like the guys that usually pursued you, which had you losing you’re wit. You’d never imagined that happening at a house party like this.
“Just a suggestion,” you shrugged. As you did, Gojo’s arm left your shoulders and traveled down to the small of your back, leaving a trail of fire as he did. Suguru let his stoic attitude slip for a split second, his eyes flickering to Gojo’s arm as he moved it.
"We were kind of in the middle of something here." Finally Satoru had been pushed to the point where he wanted to shoo Suguru away, hoping his sudden appearance hadn't spoiled his chances entirely. He still felt as there was a chance, as he felt your body react to his genle touch against his back.
"Sorry about that. I just felt it would have been rude of me not to at least say hi to her while she was here." He's good, Satoru thought to himself. Suguru had such a comfortable charm and he was milking it to his advantage. He seemed so genuinely apologetic for interrupting. Satoru didn't buy it for a second.
"I'm so glad you did!" You jumped in, trying to distract yourself from Gojo's hand that was slowly rubbing circles on your back.
"What the hell is going on here?" A shrieking voice interrupted you, making all three of you flinch before finding the source of the voice. Shoko came stomping over towards you, making Gojo quickly retreat his hand. "You guys are unbelievable!"
"Shoko! Where have you been?" The tone in Gojo's voice was entirely different, and was now playful and childish. One couldn't imagine the scene that had taken place just minutes earlier listening to him now.
"Drop the act, Satoru!" Her anger did seem real, so you were just glad it wasn't directed at you. "Give her some room to breathe!" Forcefully she grabbed your arm and pulled you to stand beside her.
"Shoko-" Suguru tried to intervene.
"Shush, you're supposed to be the behaved one!" You were the only one having a good time, finding Shoko's protectiveness cute. The two guys, on the other hand, had both lost their confidence. She turns to look at you. "The girls were gathering for pictures when we couldn't do it without you."
You smiled sweetly at her before turning to the guys again. "Nice meeting you, Gojo." Your eyes gave him a flirtatious look, teasing him that he might have gotten lucky if you hadn't been interrupted. You turned to Suguru and gave him the same look. "And I'll see you around." You turned away from them, before you and Shoko entered the house again.
"Do not tell me that Satoru actually managed to make you fold?" She said through gritted teeth.
"No..." you said carefully, her head turning to fully look at you. "He might have been able to if Suguru hadn't interrupted."
"You're dissapointing me, y/n," she sighed dramatically. "So much for being unobtainable."
"I didn't do anything! My reputation is still intact!" You were desperately trying to defend yourself. "Don't tell any of the girls please!" She squinted at you, a smirk growing on her lips.
"Do a shot with me, and your secret's safe!"
"Deal!"
Back on the porch, Satoru and Suguru had been left in the dust, neither able to get lucky. "I swear to god, Suguru-" Satoru sighed.
Suguru simply shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. He tried to fight back a satisfied smile. "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought it wouldn't be a problem I came over. You seemed so sure she was going home with you." Satoru instantly flicked Suguru's forehead in petty frustration.
"Idiot."
⋆⭒˚。⋆
a/n: okay, i really struggled to find a way to end this, and it shows lol. I hate the ending, but for the most part i like it. but i wanted to try something different. even before this account, when ive written in my sparetime, its usually angst so wanted to challenge myself by something different. hope you like it <3 likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated
Plagiarism not authorized
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animeyanderetalker · 2 months ago
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Just wanna say I LOVE your blue lock headcannons, I’ve been rereading them nonstop this past few days! But also from reading it a good chunk of them seem to “take the lead” in the relationship, at least subtly in some characters, so I’m wondering what some of the blue lock boys’ reactions would be to an s/o that would do a “kabedon” (a wall slam) to catch them off guard, despite the fact I’m more likely shorter than ALL of them 😂
I just chose the characters that I featured in my Hc's on my main blog:
Ego Jinpachi would just give his darling a very long and silent look without blinking once until the awkward silence makes you visibly uncomfortable and you slowly move away from him which then moves him to walk away and continue with whatever he was doing before. He's not going to say anything about it.
Mikage Reo does like to show off to his darling but he is quite a sucker for them which means that them doing a wall slam will actually greatly fluster him to the point where his cheeks and the tips of his ears actually grow pink and he kind of forgets how to speak for a few moments.
Teieri Anri probably lets out a startled yelp when you suddenly slam your hand behind the wall and cage her in between your body and the wall. The whole position flies over her head for a good few moments where she just ends up scolding you for scaring her before she actually realises what you're doing and then proceeds to get embarrassed, her cheeks flushed all whilst she still continues to scold you though her voice is more high-pitched now.
Kunigami Rensuke proceeds to clear his throat in his best attempts to hide any bashfulness he might be feeling even if the pink tips of his ears are very likely to give him away. Otherwise he remains quite composed though as he gently pushes you away from him.
Itoshi Rin is the second candidate after Jinpachi who is most likely just going to stare at you though as soon as you awkwardly shuffle away from him he actually grabs your wrist and asks you what all of this was about. Only after you have explained what the action of kabedon actually means will he have a tiny reaction by blinking a few times before dismissing this trope as stupid though you could swear that you see a dust of pink on his cheeks.
Barou Shoei doesn't even flinch when you try to push him against the wall, you're literally unable to move his body made out of sheer muscles and by the time he decides to amuse you by letting himself get slammed against the wall the whole surprise is already ruined. That's probably when he decides to suddenly reverse the positions by grabbing you by your hips and twisting you around so that he is the one caging you in between his body and the wall all whilst teasing you that this is how a kabedon is supposed to happen. Try harder next time.
Chigiri Hyoma is also caught by surprise when you suddenly slam your hands against the walls behind him though as soon as the first few seconds of surprise are over and he realises what you're doing he tries to somewhat downplay his reaction even if the pink on his cheeks gives him away. Don't tease him too much about it though or he might start pouting.
Bachira Meguru is just happy that his darling is giving him attention though there is some confusion laced within that grin of his. So he starts pestering you about why you just did that and as soon as you have explained to him what a kabedon is he decides that he wants to try too since it looks fun which is why you soon find yourself with your back against the wall.
Nagi Seishiro has the most bored reaction out of the entire bunch. Tired and lazy eyes just look at you with a hint of bewilderment but ultimately he decides to not even bother and instead just slumps his body forward so that you have to catch him before he pulls you down with him so that both of you are sitting on the ground and are just hugging.
Isagi Yoichi is also one who flinches when you suddenly slam your hands against the wall behind him and for a few seconds he looks like a deer caught in headlight as he looks at you and blinks rapidly, his body tense. Eventually his brain catches up with what is happening and that is when he starts blushing, still gathering the strength to ask if you could remove yourself before somebody sees the two of you.
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ladykailitha · 4 months ago
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Icarus Part 15
This was really popular last WIP Wednesday so it got down before the others did. So tada! The meeting with Vickie!
If you guys aren't getting notifications for my works, could you let me in know in the comments? Because I've been seeing it's been hit or miss lately, thanks!
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14
~
Steve wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he walked into Eddie’s mansion. Both bands were meeting with their shiny new agent, Vickie Cameron. But whatever it wasn’t the woman sitting on Eddie’s big, black leather couch.
She had a stylish, curly, red bob that framed her angular face. Her bright green eyes were knowing and mischievous. Her clothes veered toward Bohemian in darker shades. Her smile was calm and welcoming.
Steve could feel the tension bleed out his shoulders as he sat down between Simon and Spence.
“You must be Abbadon,” she greeted warmly. “I’m Vickie Cameron, I understand that I called in the nick of time?”
Eddie who had come in behind him, smiled at her. “That’s right. She kept trying to shift blame on Abby here. Bob was awesome, though!”
Vickie looked to Chrissy and Robin in askance.
“The Fallen’s producer,” Robin explained. “He was there to prevent liability.”
Vickie nodded and then clasped her hands together. “I understand that not all of Corroded Coffin is here today?”
Jeff shook his head. “Gareth Hughes is currently in a ninety day program.”
“Eddie had to get special permission to talk to him about changing agents in the first place,” Brian explained. “It’s in our contract that all of us have to sign off on major changes.” He glanced sideways at Eddie and then Jeff before hanging his head.
Eddie sat down on the floor next to Shane, crossing his legs like the bassist. “But he was onboard one hundred percent.”
“That’s good,” she said with a smile. “I’m assuming it was that lovely little clause that prevented him from being replaced on tour?”
Steve looked around at the Corroded Coffin members as tension filled the air. Jeff and Eddie were radiating anger while Brian seemed to shrink in shame.
“I didn’t think it was fair that he would get replaced like he didn’t mean anything to us,” Brian hotly defended.
Jeff’s lip curled. “Dude, Gareth voted for us replacing him! He knew had made a promise and broke it. If we don’t punish him somehow, someway, he’s going to keep doing it!”
Brian’s chin began to wobble and he let out a shuddered breath. “I know. It was stupid. But it’s too late now. Let’s just focus on what we’re here for. Please!”
Steve shared looks with his band before they all agreed to just move on. But Steve made sure to make a mental note to talk to Eddie about it, because it was clear Eddie was really upset by the move even after a few weeks.
“Since you’re planning on touring together,” Vickie said, sitting up straight, “that makes the contacting for venues easy. Getting suites for two big bands might prove a little tricky at the moment as I don’t have the clout yet.”
“That’s fine,” Shane said from his perch on the floor. “We like to bunk all together if we can. It makes harder for people to try and pap us if there’s almost always someone there in the room.”
“That makes sense,” she agreed. “Will Jim Hopper be coming with you to function as your head of security?”
Robin nodded. “He’ll be the only one with knowledge of their real identities. His daughter will also be joining us as costumes director, but she has only dealt with their alter egos.”
Vickie nodded back. “That’s perfect. I’ll be just handling contracts and the legal eagle side of things, which is the main reason I need to know their real identities so no one can forge anything claiming to be a member of the band.”
Everyone nodded or murmured their agreements.
She looked at Eddie. “I know this your home, but would it be all right if I spoke to The Fallen alone?”
Eddie nodded and hopped to his feet. “Come on, Jeffy and Bri-Bri, let’s go raid my liquor cabinet.”
The other two men were to their feet in seconds and followed their lead singer out the door like ducklings in a row.
Vickie smiled after them. “They’re going to be fun. I can tell.” She turned back to The Fallen members. “Do you feel safe enough to remove your masks so that I can meet you properly?”
Steve and the other members looked around at each other before Shane took off his mask first. Then Steve and Spence together. Simon was the only that remained with his mask still on. Steve leaned over and whispered in his ear and rubbed his back encouragingly. After a moment or two Simon removed his mask too.
“It’s hard trusting someone new,” Vickie said with a reassuring smile. “Especially after harrowing experience that Abbadon went through earlier today. Giving that much power to any ex is hard, but if half of what Celeste says is true, she’s the last person in your lives that should have any kind of access to your secrets. So no judgments, okay? If you don’t feel comfortable being unmasked around me, that’s fine. I hope I’ll earn your trust in the future.”
Immediately Simon put his back on. Spence and Shane shared a glance before Spence put his back on, too. Only Shane and Steve left theirs off.
Vickie didn’t comment, only nodded her approval. “I had somethings to go over with you all so we can all get on the same page.”
“Why aren’t you calling us by our real names?” Simon asked, leaning into Steve’s side.
“Are any of the Corroded Coffin boys in on the secret?” Vickie asked, leaning forwards on her knees and clasping her hands together.
They all shared concerned glances, before Robin spoke up.
“Eddie is,” she said carefully, her shoulders squared against the tension in the room. “He guessed though, he wasn’t told.”
“But Jeff Laurence and Brian Martin aren’t read in?” Vickie pressed.
They all shook their heads.
“Then that would be why I’m not calling you by your real names,” she said clearly, sitting up straight. “There is a chance they might overhear a name or two and put it together who you are.”
Steve let out a shuddering breath and his lip quivered. “Nancy–she almost called me by my real name right in front of our producer. She almost outed me without a single thought or care. I–I’d never been more frightened in my life when she nearly slipped up. She had been so mad at me and I just wanted to get out of there, but I forced myself to stay there and listen to her.”
Vickie stood up and knelt in front of him, taking one of his hands as his friends offered their verbal support.
“I hate how much power she had in that conversation,” she murmured. “Agents like managers and PR firms are tools to help you navigate a job which constantly changing. That goes for actors, artists, athletes, comedians, and musicians of all walks of life. They should be supporting you, not making you miserable.”
She stood up. “And that goes for everyone, Corroded Coffin included. This is meant to be a partnership and it’s my job to sure it all goes as smoothly as possible.”
Simon removed his mask and looked her in the eye. “If you’ve got Abbadon’s back, you’ve got my vote of confidence.”
Everyone but Vickie turned to him, impressed. Simon was their Cowardly Lion. He was afraid of his own shadow outside of their personas on stage. It was only under the bright lights of the stage and behind his red mask that he truly came alive.
This was a big deal for Simon and his bandmates and Robin were proud as hell for him.
“So what did you need to go over with us?” Shane asked from his perch on the floor.
Vickie cracked her knuckles with a grin. “What I understand is that because your personal and professional lives are separate you need a little help fend off the trolls and influencers, is that right?”
“Aren’t they one and the same?” Spence asked with a snort. His mask was still on despite Simon’s bravery, he wasn’t ready to take that step yet.
“Only in the way that jackals and coyotes are both dogs I guess,” Vickie replied. “They act similar but have different motives for why they’re doing it. But I’m here to handle that.”
“I’m sorry to make you take on PR duties as well,” Robin said ringing her hands together. “But the more people who know the worse it’s going to be to keep a lid on everything.”
Vickie shook her head. “This is a good thing. Because I don’t have a lot of clients to juggle, I can do the PR for you guys. Simpler is always best.” She looked around the room. “I also understand that one of you is in a high profile relationship?”
Steve raised his hand. “Ish. Eddie and Steve are dating but it’s not public and with Eddie’s past history of sleeping with anything that moved, he can’t be seen with a roadie or the tabloids will explode.”
Vickie tapped her lip thoughtfully. “That is a conundrum to be sure. I’ll put together some plans and meet with Eddie and ‘Steve’ later in the week.” She put air quotes around his name. “Now, here are the other things we need to go over.”
Talk turned to the other things on her agenda and by the time it was over with all four members of the band were maskless, and eager to take her on.
~
Vickie, Robin, Chrissy were all sitting in Vickie’s office, popping the cork of a bottle of champagne to share between them. Chrissy poured the bubbling liquid into the three glasses and handed one to each of Robin and Vickie.
“Here’s to the three baddest bitches!” Robin said, raising her glass.
“Hell yeah!” Vickie crowed.
“Damn right!” Chrissy said, as they all clinked their glasses together.
They all drank and Vickie smirked around her glass. “So the industry is abuzz with news about Nancy Wheeler and Corroded Coffin pulling out of her firm.”
Robin and Chrissy leaned in close, clutching their glasses of champagne.
“Ooh,” Chrissy cooed. “Do tell.”
Vickie took another drink of her champagne and let them sit in it for a moment. “Apparently word is out that Corroded Coffin had vouched for her to The Fallen and when she was rude and dismissive of their unique requirements, Corroded Coffin decided that she wasn’t for them. And now huge acts are pulling out too in solidarity to The Fallen.”
Chrissy winced, but Robin nodded sagely.
“She sounded so sincere when I spoke to her,” she said, shaking her head sadly, “but my boys picked up on her hostility right away. All she had to do was put the past behind her, the way Abbadon seemed to, but she let her prejudices blind her and it led her to this.”
Vickie pursed her lips together. “I can see how some heavy hitters might like the bulldog approach that she took to her work, but not everyone has that tough of a skin. And while some part of me feels sorry for her, she absolutely dug her own grave.”
“Eddie was telling me some of the things she said to Abbadon,” Chrissy said, twisting the glass her hands. “It sounded like to me that she wanted him to absolve her of all her wrong doing without owning up to it in any way.”
Robin nodded. “That’s what Bob said, too. There was no apology and it didn’t sound like she ever intended to give one. So cheers to Vickie Carmichael, who sent the dragon running back to her lair!”
“Cheers!” Chrissy agreed to Vickie’s flush of pride.
“Thank you, ladies,” she said demurely. “I’m grateful for the opportunity to work with your boys. They all seem like good people. And yes that includes Gareth. I was able to meet with him without the other boys around and while he has some real problems to deal with, he’s a good person at heart who was led away by the high alcohol promised him.”
Chrissy nodded. “I wish Brian had let Gareth heal while they went on tour. I think it would have shaken something loose to see his friends perform without him.”
“To new beginnings!” Robin said, raising her glass.
“To new partnerships!” Vickie agreed, raising her own glass.
“To friends old and new!” Chrissy said.
They clanked glasses and drank deeply to their new future.
~
Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25
Tag List: CLOSED
1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog
2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence
3- @goodolefashionedloverboi @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @blondie1006
4- @yikes-a-bee @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten
5- @genderless-spoon @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt
6- @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart @dawners @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95
7- @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot @papergrenade @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars
8- @ravenfrog @w1ll0wtr33 @child-of-cthulhu @kultiras @dreamercec
9- @machete-inventory-manager @useless-nb-bisexual @stripey82 @dotdot-wierdlife @kal-ology
10- @sadisticaltarts @urkadop
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blasphemecel · 8 months ago
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Michael Kaiser, Alexis Ness — Ego Death
PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader, Alexis Ness/Reader WORD COUNT: 1.4k TYPE: Rivalry, Tension WARNING(S): Canon-typical football derangement, canon-typical overreaction NOTE: This is a part of the dog walking-verse again it's getting out of control
They swap you in not long after Shidou’s goal.
You’re in a good mood when you step on the field, of course, like you always are. Noa doesn’t like the way you play, but you’re always in the games in the end. Your unbalanced mind chooses to interpret this as an acknowledgement of your greatness, which gives you a funny feeling. Kind of like a high.
And your target is Ness, as usual. You find yourself standing next to him, excitement bubbling in your stomach. “Let’s give them hell, ok?”
“I’m tired of telling you everyday, we won’t be doing anything,” he says, irked by your persistence. “You’re not my ace! Get it through your thick head.”
You continue grinning, giddy for what you have planned. “Ness, do you see the future I see?”
“I don’t know what your delusional imagination has come up with, but I bet it’s something stupid.”
“Whatever. When someone’s mind is closed, you just need to pry it open sometimes.”
Ness maintains his upbeat demeanor, but it’s nothing more than a mask. He intends for his words to cut into you, though he knows you won’t care. “You always talk nonsense and then call everyone else myopic for not understanding you.”
“I guess. I mean, if that’s how you see it,” you say.
After relenting, you glance at Kaiser, who’s not saying anything, just frowning. His attitude has been getting worse the longer this Neo Egotist League event has been going on. Isagi must be wearing him down.
That’s a nasty face he’s making right now. You want to watch it get worse.
When the game starts, you do your typical movements, as if you’re trying to go on the offense. You make an earnest attempt to evade the defenders marking you down whenever you get the ball, but it’s mostly a ploy. What’s important is to get the positioning right for what you’re about to do, so you keep track of where everyone is, where they’re going to run next, and try to use your approach as a lure to adjust it all to your liking.
Is the misery settling in? Does it bother Kaiser how he’s struggling to stand out right now, and against this competition, for maybe the first time in his life? Is Ness frustrated because his passing courses are so limited like never before? You’ll need to create an opportunity for this desperation to turn into a slip up you can exploit. A moment of urgent, careless thinking, more likely to give into instinct rather than a clear-minded aspiration…
You can’t leave it to coincidence, though. You break through with one-two passes from Hiori. Karasu follows, hot on your trail. Defenses are tight, not leaving any room for a sensible breakthrough.
“Always flittin’ about like a damn fly,” Karasu says. “Yer annoying.”
“And you’re a hillbilly.” You’re close to the penalty area, and you realize things have aligned well now, though you try not to let it show on your face that you’re scheming something. The next step requires meticulous execution. You manage to keep the ball in your possession against Karasu, but you can’t drag this out.
The exact moment you have enough space to move, the ball goes up in the air and you take on a shooting stance. Rin jumps into your field of vision as you thought he would, blocking the path with his foot, trying to get in your way. “You’re so damn predictable. It’s-”
In what looks like a show of godlike reflexes, but was actually premeditated all along, you reveal the feint, sending the ball flying to your desired spot, somewhere behind yourself and near the arc. Rin doesn’t even finish his critique of your performance out of incredulity.
You snap your head around to watch with an ecstatic grin, goosebumps breaking out across your skin in anticipation. Even by your standards — quick and precise with your aim — this was an abrupt and forceful pass, enough to catch the recipient off guard.
Ness doesn’t have much time to think it over by the time he realizes what’s happening, what with three defenders blocking Kaiser and two more hovering near Ness himself. So, he pulls his leg in and obeys the instantaneous reaction-
“Yes!” you scream, elated at your success. Your vision comes to life — Alexis Ness scores Bastard München’s first goal.
Despite kicking the ball, Ness seems surprised by this development, staring at you in a confused daze. He doesn’t even bother putting on a pretense of feeling annoyed by your interference. He’s not the only one perplexed. While it’s surprising enough that he scored, what’s even more shocking is the fact that you made an assist. A deliberate one, with this outcome as the intention.
“See, Ness,” you say, gesturing ahead with a manic expression on your face, before you begin making your way towards him as if to celebrate. “You make your own magic.”
He is trembling. Ness never considered himself interested in getting a point by himself, and as of recently to make any plays separate from Kaiser at all, but it is undeniable that he’s excited by this, and he’s sure the afterwaves of energy will linger in his system for a while. But he’s still dumbfounded. “Why…?”
“Let’s play together,” you say. “You shouldn’t shackle yourself to one option like a coward. There’s no need to be scared of making a choice.” Your gaze strays from him and instead moves over his shoulder where you see Kaiser glaring at you with pure hatred from a distance, but you recognize the expression as a farce, hiding feelings of hurt and betrayal and paranoia. He really is sensitive deep down. It’s too much fun poking at that kind of thing. You continue looking at him while you continue, “After all, everything’s possible.”
“But…”
“Ness, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Kaiser approaches with crossed arms, and his scowling is so intense, you feel like he’s trying to blow you to smithereens with his pathetic display. Ness flinches away from him regardless, maybe ashamed of his transgressions. Usually Kaiser treats your encounters together with a sort of levity, but his patience has been stretching thin for a while. “What do you think you’re doing? I thought you don’t help anyone besides yourself? The hell is this?”
“Ness, don’t be scared of him,” you say with a smirk. “You let him do most of the thinking, but you’re not dependent on him. It’s up to you most of the time if he gets a good shot in, not the other way around.”
Ness’s eyes widen at your words. Good. You want to watch him develop a sense of identity. It’s been too many games and you’ve been antsy. You want the satisfaction of being the catalyst to his evolution. How will his real ego manifest?
“I’m talking to you,” Kaiser grits out, grabbing you roughly by the collar of your jersey and leaning down to invade your personal space to the best of his ability as a last ditch attempt at intimidating you, blocking your view of Ness. The corners of your lips quirk up even higher, clearly not taking him seriously. The fuck is he gonna do? Whine at you until you die of boredom? “Look at me and stop pretending I’m not here!”
“When an emperor loses his last lackey, I consider him dethroned.”
His grip on your shirt tightens in response. So temperamental and easy to mess with, it’s almost cute. “Ness won’t switch to you over this. Besides, that was your orchestration. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“Doesn’t matter,” you say. “He’ll resist it at first, I’m sure, but there’s no going back after this. He’ll start seeing me and Isagi as viable passing options, and then curiosity will get the better of him.”
Kaiser pushes you away, but his anger doesn’t seem to be simmering down. You stumble a little, but it’s not even enough to make you lose your balance and land on your ass. “I’ll make sure you plunge so deep into despair, you won’t want to touch a football in your life ever again.”
“Ho ho ho.” You laugh fakely in an exaggerated voice, clasping your hands together behind your back, pleased with the way this is going. “That’s what I like to hear.”
You’ve caused a great sense of unsettle within your favorite player out of the New Generation World XI. How long ago was it when you first saw him through a screen? Now he’s standing in front of you, and he’s disturbed, and you’re getting under his skin, and you’ve just completed the first step in your plan to steal his loyal midfielder. And he even wants to crush you! You’re so happy, you can’t help but continue to grin.
Yes, today is another beautiful day, like always.
___
It's never that serious
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simphornies · 9 months ago
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Vox with an overlord s/o hmngg. He’d get such an ego boost from having another overlord submit to him, especially if they’re close in power but also… he’d never admit it but he’d fucking love to get dommed SO hard
A/N: He's giving switch/service top honestly. Maybe a hint of power bottom. (definitely adding this to my lengthy headcanon list). Bonus points if you can guess who the first unnamed character is
Word count: 1.1k (1,152) Warnings: suggestive content, implied sex, dominant reader
Power Hungry - [ Vox x Overlord!Reader ]
“And stay out.” Your voice was stern, laced with anger. You glared at the mafia head that disrespected your meeting. “Your business is no longer needed with us, imp.”
He hissed, “Whatever bitch. Your loss. You’ll soon realize this decision of yours was a mistake.” He got up, dusting himself off as he glared at you. You glared at him back, your demon form on the verge of exploding out.
“Get out of my sight before I take your head. You better hope I never see you again because next time, I’m displaying your skull on my wall. And that’s a promise.” Your voice distorted as you pointed your angelic spear to his throat, cutting him slightly. He backed down, shaking slightly as he ran off. You pulled your spear aside and huffed. “The nerve of that little shit.”
Vox put his hand on your shoulder, the touch immediately calming you down. “I’ll keep eyes on him, make sure he doesn’t try to put a hit on you.” He beamed with pride at your display of power, “Come on, let’s go back in.”
Your spear vanished as well as your demon form, reverting back to your usual self. “I will squish him the next time I see him I swear to god!” You screamed. Vox held your waist, pulling you close as you two walked over to his office.
“If he’s in the area, I’ll make sure to get him up here for you babe.” He grinned at you.
You smiled at him, “You know exactly how to make me happy, Vox.” You gave him a quick peck on his lips.
“That was hot as fuck though.” He winked.
“Oh hush it! You say that every time you see me in my demon form. Remember when I almost killed you?” You laughed, “You faced a second death and what did you say?”
He laughed with you, “I think I said ‘Holy shit you’re hot.’ or something along those lines.”
“Insane. Threw me off guard and saved your life. Glad you said it though.”
The two of you entered his office. He sat on his chair and you sat on top of him with no hesitation. “You really gotta get me my own chair here.”
“Hmm…No. You have a seat right here.” He flirted to which you rolled your eyes.
“I guess that’s true.” You rest your head on his chest as you watch him tap away at his computer. “So what’s the agenda?”
“Nothing. That was the last one for the day and it looks like he already left.” He sent a message out to block any future business with him and you sent a message to Carmilla to make sure he can’t get any weapons from her either, completely blacklisting him from her company. She happily obliged considering you were a close friend of hers and helped her greatly during her rise in power.
“And I just blacklisted him from Carmilla’s company. That little shit isn’t getting any angelic weapons anytime soon.” You laughed.
“That’s my girl.” He smiled at you. You two share a passionate kiss before getting interrupted by Valentino slamming his door open.
“Vox! You won’t fucking believe wh-Oh! Am I interrupting something?” He grinned and leaned up against the doorway. “Can I stay and watch?” He winked.
You glare at him even though he probably couldn’t see your expression. You threw a stapler at him which Valentino dodged last minute. “Fuck off! We’re having a moment! Come back later!” He ran out, slamming the door behind him. “And no you can’t watch! Gross.”
“Oh the headaches you save me from.” He held you close to him, his arms wrapped around your waist.
“Anything for you, baby.” You grabbed his hand to kiss it, “I’ll kill for you, you just say the word.”
His ego was filled to the brim knowing he had you by his side, willing to do anything he asked of you with no hesitation. You and him were on par with each other in power but in terms of fighting, you had the advantage. You had more experience fighting considering you had to work hard and kill anyone in your way to become an overlord, even almost killing Vox when he met you. He came to save Valentino from getting killed because he tried to force you into becoming one of his girls. Your patience already ran thin so when he asked you more than 3 times, you nearly squashed him. Vox came to save him of course and your love blossomed from thereon out.
He loves watching your angry fits, even sitting back with some popcorn as you killed an entire gang of sharks that tried to force themselves on you once. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t intimidated by your power. You weren’t afraid of speaking up for yourself and you most certainly will do anything to have people listen to you. Any demon would be doomed to die if they ever looked down upon you for anything. There were times that he spoke back to you and he found it attractive whenever you’d assert yourself on him. He was as power hungry as you were. But if you were the power? He was starving. He craved you more when you showed power but he never wanted to admit it in the bedroom.
“You know I love it when you’re assertive. It’s so hot.” He whispered into your ear. Shivers went down your spine at his deep voice, triggering something inside of you.
“Yeah?” You turned, straddling him, “I bet you’d love it if I did that to you in private, hm?” You smiled, slightly grinding on the tent in his pants.
“Mmm. I don’t know, baby. Would I?” He smiled up at you, a teasing tone evident in his voice.
You kissed him, tongues intertwining and curling around each other. You were both out of breath by the time the two of you pulled away. He was about to get up to take you to his room but you stopped him. “No.” You said, your hand on his chest, “Stay. And lock the door while you’re at it.” You smirked at him. He nodded and with a flick of his finger, his door was locked. Before you two could get it on in his office, you both heard something behind the door.
“Fuck! You guys didn’t have to fucking lock it!” Valentino yelled, his voice muffled behind the door. The two of you laughed in response before averting your attention back to each other.
“Now. I think I have some…anger to let out.” You grabbed him by his collar and dragged him over to the couch, pushing him down on it. “And record this for yourself, baby.” You winked.
“Yes ma’am.”
He’d be lying if he wasn’t going to beg for you to dominate him more after that night.
261 notes · View notes
cinnbar-bun · 10 months ago
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Popularity- Cross Guild's Day Off 2 (Cross Guild x Reader)
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Summary: In which you work with the three Cross Guild officers and Buggy attempts to prove his popularity through a poll. Of course, it's never as simple as it really should be in Cross Guild.
Rating: SFW/Crack
Word Count: ~3k
Notes: No relationships are defined, so feel free to headcanon whatever you want. I know it says x Reader up there and I wrote it in mind that it's a weird ass polycule but I made sure to leave it ambiguous for your reading pleasure. Made in mind with part 1, but can be read as standalone. Features cameos from Alvida, Galdino, and Daz Bones.
A/n: I love these three goofballs so like feel free to request stuff with them or what scenarios you'd like to see them in please???
Read Part 1 here! Read this chapter on my AO3 here!
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“It’s really not fair! It’s not fair at all!” Buggy screamed. Mihawk, Crocodile, and you sighed at whatever it was that seemed to be, well, bugging Buggy. 
“Will you stop your complaining? Some of us are actually trying to do work here,” Crocodile growled while his fingers continued clicking away on the calculator. “(Y/n), go and hand me the reports for-,” 
“Right here, Sir,” you said as you handed him the stack of papers he wanted. Crocodile smirked proudly while his eyes narrowed at Buggy. 
“See, why can’t you be like (Y/n)? They know how to get work done.” 
“Wha-! I get work done! Plenty of work!” 
“Juggling isn’t work.” 
“Is too!” Buggy stomped his foot. 
“Hardly,” Mihawk chimes in. 
“Grrr… you two are just jealous of me! Jealous of how I’m the Star Clown and you two will just be boring, old men!” 
Mihawk and Crocodile glanced at each other knowingly and rolled their eyes. 
“You’re still bothered by the fact you were not important enough to have any good cards in the deck, aren't you?” Mihawk states bluntly, not bothering to be gentle with Buggy’s fragile ego. 
“SHUT UP!!! SHUT UP!!!!” Buggy shouted, gaining the attention from his subordinates outside the office. 
“Aw… someone’s upset,” Crocodile teased. You huffed at the two stoic ex-warlords and tried to soothe Buggy. 
“Buggy, it’s alright. They’re just silly cards. Look around you, you have so many employees happy to work for you because they really admire you as captain,” you say genuinely while patting his head. Buggy sniffles and nods. 
“You’re right, (Y/n), you’re right,” Buggy agrees. He wipes his eyes and nose with his hand before he bounces back to life, clenching his fists. “That’s very true! All these people love me and would die for me! So those card makers don’t know anything! I’m the most popular one here!” 
“Wait, what…” you wince, while Crocodile and Mihawk groan. 
“Thanks, (Y/n), now he’s gonna do something stupid again,” Crocodile sighed. 
“Buggy, all I’m saying is-” you try to fix your error, but Buggy shakes his head. 
“Nope! You just gave me an amazing idea!” 
“Here we go again,” Mihawk mumbles. 
“W-what’s the idea?” You ask Buggy. 
“Obviously, to really settle the matter, we need to hold a popularity contest!” Buggy proclaims. 
“We really don’t have to. No one cares about this except you,” Crocodile says blandly while he opens the folder you gave him. 
“Haha! You’re just saying that because you know deep down that I will win when it comes to Cross Guild!” Buggy eggs Crocodile on. “They love me here!” 
“I really don’t care-” 
“So, to finally gather once and for all who the most popular is-” 
“God damn it.” 
“I’m going to poll the others!” Buggy announces, grabbing a random clipboard from your desk. 
“Isn’t that rather biased?” Mihawk asked. 
“Biased? What are you talking about?” Buggy raises his brow. “You think Imma lie about this?” 
“Yes,” all of you respond. Buggy lets out an offended gasp and frowns. 
“Well then, what do you suggest, smart guy?” Buggy yells at Mihawk. 
“Having only you go around and then return with results will obviously not be the most accurate. We need to send a third party that won’t lie,” Mihawk explains. 
The three men turn to look at you. 
“Why do I have to do it?” You fold your arms. “I have work to do!” 
“I’ll pay you extra for this week in order to have Buggy shut up,” Crocodile states. 
“Do you think I can be swayed so easily with money?” 
“Yes,” the three men respond. You swipe the clipboard from Buggy. 
“Damn right I am,” you state as you pick up your favorite pen from your desk. 
“Now then, since you’re going to be polling, I expect truthful and honest answers,” Mihawk demands. “No one can lie or cheat this.” 
“Before we do this, none of you are allowed to know who voted for who,” you add. “I’m not having you fire or hunt down some poor employee because they voted for Mihawk or something.” “Well that won’t happen,” Buggy comments. “No one is gonna vote for Mihawk to begin with.” 
Now it’s Mihawk’s turn to be offended. “What do you mean by that, Buggy? Do I need to silence you for good?” 
“Eek! All I’m saying is, you hardly ever step out of the office or interact with anyone!” 
Mihawk stays silent then mumbles, “I interact with others…” 
“Oh really? Name one person you’ve interacted with,” Crocodile demands. 
“You can’t do that, either,” Mihawk counters. 
“That’s just because I don’t give a shit about these people’s names. I still talk to them, though,” Crocodile corrects. 
“Fine, (Y/n)!” Mihawk huffs. 
“They don’t count.” 
“Why don’t they?” Mihawk crosses his arms. 
“Because we all see them every day in this office,” Crocodile chides Mihawk. “Name someone.” 
“Okay, I guess I cannot name anyone,” Mihawk relents. “Not that it matters in the slightest, by the way. This is a silly and pointless little game.” 
“See? No one is gonna vote for you!” Buggy laughs. 
“I guess I should kill you now, Buggy,” Mihawk says as he draws Yoru. 
“Gaaaahhh! No! Please don’t!” Buggy cries, latching onto you for safety. 
“Buggy, please let go,” you sigh. The clown does so shakily and you begin to write on the paper in your clipboard. “Okay… Buggy, Crocodile, Mihawk. There we go. I’ll go around and ask, then. See you guys later.” 
“Before you go,” Crocodile begins. You turn to hear him out while he has a big shit-eating grin on his face. “If you’re going to talk to Mr. 3… knock before you enter.” 
Your eyes practically bulge out of their sockets from what this could mean as you nod and exit the office. 
“Why the hell did you say that?” Buggy questions. Crocodile chuckles, taking a puff from his cigar as he shakes his head. 
“Oh, they’ll see soon enough.” 
-
“Favorite head of Cross Guild?” An employee scratches his head. His coworker beside him does the same. 
“Wait, uh, they’re not gonna kill us for answering this, are they?” The other one asks. 
“Crap, you’re right. Is this some way to weed us out or something?” 
You shake your head. “No, no, not at all! This is just a… uh… thing they’re testing for some new merchandise,” you lie. 
“Ah,” the two men nod along. “That makes so much sense.” 
“Buggy,” the first man states. 
“Mmm… yeah, Buggy,” the second adds. “He never harps on us like Sir Crocodile.” 
You thank them for the response and tally it to the votes. 
“I guess Buggy was right,” you mumble to yourself, seeing as he currently had seven votes out of the seven people you asked. “Maybe we could send these results in to those cardmakers and get a cut of the merchandising.” 
Just as you’re about to walk away, Alvida strolls into the room. 
“Oh, Alvida! Good morning,” you smile at her. “Can I have a moment of your time?” “(Y/n), dear,” Alvida runs a hand through her hair. “What do you need from the most beautiful woman of the sea?” 
“Well, the higher-ups wanted to run a poll,” you show her the paper. “Please vote for your favorite head of Cross Guild.” 
She studies the paper for a moment and purses her lips. “Hmm… you know what, I vote for you.” 
“What?” 
“What? Just put a tally for you,” Alvida suggests nonchalantly. 
“But, um, I’m not a head of Cross Guild,” you argue. 
“So? You practically are their fourth one. I’m sure they won’t mind. And if they do, they can take it up with me,” Alvida brushes your concerns aside and takes the pen from you. She writes your name down and adds a tally. 
“Can I ask why you want to add me?” 
“Simple, dear.” Alvida chuckles. “You’re not like those brutes upstairs. You get worked to the bone by them yet still retain your own sense of self. Do you know what that is?” 
“No, I don’t think I know what that is-” 
“Passion!” Alvida throws her arms in the air. “You are passionate, clean, stylish, and most of all, you are quiet! If anyone is worthy of my vote and attention- it is you!” 
“Wow, thank you,” you comment, impressed that Alvida actually gave you a nice compliment. 
“Yes, yes, well, what do you think about becoming my assistant instead of working for them?” Alvida winks. 
“Ah sorry, I’m pretty happy where I am right now,” you quickly shut down. Alvida clicks her tongue. 
“Hm… perhaps you’d prefer to be my partner instead? You would be a good match by my side.” 
“Would you look at the time!” You awkwardly laugh. “Bye, Alvida!” 
“Bye, darling. Don’t worry though, we’ll pick this conversation up another time~,” she waves. You sigh in relief as you walk away that she didn’t mace you immediately. Still, there’s work to be done. 
You walk into the staff lounge and greet the other members there, who cheerfully greet you back. 
“Sorry to bother you guys, but if you could just fill out this poll, that would be great. And don’t worry, no one will know of the results, so please be as honest as you can!” 
The clipboard gets passed along by the staff members, who quickly add a tally mark to the poll. In less than a minute, all twenty people in the lounge have responded. 
“Wow, thank you guys. You guys are quick,” you joke, taking back the clipboard. 
“The choice was obvious,” one of the employees answers, and the others nod. You wonder who they voted for when you look at the paper, only to see your name has now over twenty marks attached to it. Your eyes widen and you politely thank the others as you step out of the room. 
It was one thing when Alvida did as she pleased, but now the others were voting for you in droves. You took a deep breath. Crocodile, Mihawk, and Buggy surely wouldn’t kill you for this, would they? After all, Alvida herself said they could bring it up with her. Yeah, that was okay. This was just a silly joke anyways. 
You continue to collect polls, feeling touched yet also nervous when you found that every employee had checked you off as their favorite. It got so bad that you had to use a second page to collect all the tallies that the employees were adding to your name. 
As the number of employees left to ask dwindled, you remembered to get Daz Bones and Galdino’s polls. You figured the choice would be clear for them- Crocodile. After all, they were very loyal to him and even continued their work relationship into Cross Guild. It would also allow for Crocodile to at least get some vote from his current tally at zero. 
You had scoured for them all around the base, but didn’t find any sign of their presence. Just as you were about to give up, you found Daz Bones peacefully sitting, probably waiting for his next assignment. 
“Daz! Can I-” 
“(Y/n), I have no interest,” he cut you off. 
“It’s for Crocodile,” you add, knowing he wouldn’t participate otherwise. Daz nods and then urges you to step closer. You show him the clipboard and he raises a brow. 
“Crocodile really cares about this sort of thing?” 
“It’s mostly because of Buggy,” you explain, and Daz nods, connecting the dots. He quickly tallies a mark to Crocodile’s name. “Thank you, Daz!” 
“You’re welcome,” he gruffly responds. 
“Oh, and do you know where Galdino is?” 
“Why should I know? Perhaps he’s in his room,” Daz shrugs. You should’ve guessed that but wave goodbye and walk to Galdino’s room. You’re about to knock when you remember Crocodile’s ominous warning echoing in your head again. 
“Knock before you enter…” 
You were going to do that anyways, but the weird way Crocodile said it made you grimace. You nervously rapped your knuckles against Galdino’s door. You heard a huff and a lot of grumbling as Galdino swung open the door. 
“What do you w-,” he angrily yells until he gasps when he sees it’s you. “(Y/n)! Ah! Uh! Please excuse me!” 
You briefly notice a large wax statue on the table before Galdino slams the door on your face. You jump when you hear Galdino freaking out and throwing things around his studio. Something metal is grating against the floor as you hear Galdino struggle to move the obviously heavy object. 
“G-Galdino? Is this a bad time?” You call out. 
“No, no, no! It’s fine! Perfectly fine! Hahaha there’s nothing weird going on here!” Galdino answers from inside his room as something crashes to the floor and Galdino swears. 
It’s silent for a moment until Galdino opens the door, leaning against the frame and trying to give you a charming smile while some wax is now splattered against his pants and shirt. 
“So, (Y/n), what brings you to my studio?” He asks while forcing his voice to sound lower, pushing up his glasses. 
“Ah, the heads wanted to take a little poll. Mind answering?” 
“Anything for- I mean-,” Galdino coughs and lowers his voice again. “Anything for you, (Y/n).” 
He takes the clipboard from you and begins to notice the options, quickly marking a tally next to your name. 
“There you go- wait a minute!” He looks horrified as realization sets in that there’s only one tally next to Crocodile- most likely Daz, he thinks. Crocodile would absolutely know right away that Galdino didn’t choose him, and the thought makes Galdino nearly pass out. “I-I need to change my vote!” 
“Sure,” you give the clipboard back to him and Galdino scribbles over the one he gave you to mark one next to Crocodile. 
“Kh... but we’re supposed to be honest…” Galdino mutters. He glances at you, and seeing you patiently waiting and smiling at him makes his heart tighten. 
Gah! Who am I supposed to choose?! My muse or my boss?!
“Are you alright, Galdino?” You asked, making Galdino struggle to form words. Instead, he scribbled over the mark he put next to Crocodile and re-marked a tally next to your name. 
He hands the clipboard back to you and you smile and wave to him. “Thank you, Galdino!” 
“Y-you’re very welcome!” Galdino shouts, unable to control his voice properly around you. You turn around and head back to the office while Galdino lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 
He was most likely going to die after this, but seeing your smile was all worth it. He could die happy, even knowing that Crocodile would probably drain him of life later. 
You, however, didn’t notice the longing look Galdino gave you as you open the door to the office. 
“Well, I got all the votes!” 
“Well, who won?” Buggy immediately jumps forward and steals the clipboard from you. He notices that Crocodile and Mihawk hardly have any, with only Crocodile have a mark. “See I wo…” 
His face darkened as he noticed he had only seven votes. 
“What’s the matter, Buggy?” Crocodile smirked. “Can’t handle the fact you lost?” 
“I… wha…” Buggy grips the clipboard roughly, nearly snapping it in half. “How the hell did (Y/n) get all the votes!?” 
Crocodile and Mihawk are caught off guard. 
“Wait, what? (Y/n) won?” Crocodile repeated. 
“I thought I told you to be fair and not cheat!” Mihawk accused you, his golden hawk eyes glaring into yours. 
“I-it wasn’t my fault! Alvida was the one who put my name on the list!” You try to defend yourself. 
“Give me that-” Crocodile snaps as he swipes the poll from Buggy’s hand. Crocodile grunts as he notices page after page marked with tallies from the employees choosing you. He sees Mihawk has none, but that his name has one mark (Daz, of course), and one crossed off (that bastard, Galdino-). Given Crocodile’s attentiveness, he does recognize that yours and Alvida’s handwriting is different, so your story is credible. He huffs and tosses the clipboard, making Mihawk lean over curiously. 
“Not even one vote…” he murmurs. 
Buggy, meanwhile, is distraught, crying on the floor and banging it repeatedly. 
“It’s not fair! Not fair at all! I hate this! I’m the star!” Buggy wails out loud. 
At first, Crocodile did this as a joke to satiate Buggy, but even his own ego is hurt by this new poll. 
“I take it back, you’re getting docked again,” Crocodile threatens, pointing his cigar at you. 
“What?! But I spent all day getting this with the promise of money!” 
“I changed my mind! I wanted a good poll, not whatever the hell this was!” Crocodile yells back. 
“Recount! Recount this!” Buggy shouts. 
“I refuse to lose this competition. Give me an hour, I will win this,” Mihawk says, pushing himself off his couch as he walks out the door to do who knows what. 
The ensuing commotion causes some of the Cross Guild members to peek through the door and watch Buggy screaming in agony at losing while you’re sobbing at the fact you’re losing money due to this dumb poll. 
Alvida rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. 
“Would you guys cut this noise out? It’s driving me mad!” 
“Alvida! This is all your fault!” Buggy yells at Alvida in tears. “I was supposed to win, not (Y/n)!” 
Alvida frowns at Buggy and twirls her mace in her hands. “Are you questioning my decisions?” 
Buggy gulps as he sees the mace casting a shadow over him. 
“N-no, not at all!” He quickly corrects himself, praying Alvida will not maim him to death. 
“That’s what I thought.” 
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pablitogavii · 1 year ago
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Please do one where gavi is super dom so every time she goes out he has to remind her she's his (even tho he would let her wear what ever she wants he knows it turns her on also)
Behave, muñeca
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After Pablo’s injury you really didn’t want to go out at all, or leave him alone for a second. You wanted him to rest and you to take care of him and everything else.
So when your best friend invited you to go out for her birthday party you immediately refused not even telling Pablo about it. It was unlucky that your best friend happens to be Pedros gf and he told Pablo all about it.
“Callate! You’re going amor! It’s her birthday!” He insisted while you whined saying you couldn’t leave him alone at home and he groaned.
“I’ll be fine. I’m not a baby you know?” He frowned and you asked him where his medications were to which he didn’t have a clue.
“Fine! Just leave them out for me and go have fun with Fran..and I’ll call if I need? “ he said and somehow you agreed rushing to get ready.
A few hours later…(think SpongeBob)
“Amor I’m ready! I put your medicine on the cupboard by the bed and you have dinner on there as well. Let me know if I missed something..” you said walking out but Pablo was shaving many dirty thoughts to care about any of what you said.
“You did muñeca..venga aqui” he said in a soft yet demanding tone and you walked up seeing him pat his lap and you immediately knew what that meant. You sat down on his healthy leg careful not to hurt him.
“Que pass amor??” You ask although you already very well knew what it was all about..
“You look very good preciosa..” he said moving your hair back and snuggling his nose into your neck where your perfume was driving him crazzy!!
“Thank you..” you say shyly knowing where this is going. Per usual Pablo’s lips found their way to your neck and he started to diligently suck on your skin. You tried to hide moans..
He bit the skin and you whined naturally pulling away or just trying because he was pulling you right back towards himself.
“Behave muñeca..you know the rules. You wear whatever you want but with Papis marks on your neck..” he smirked and you smiled nodding your head and moving closer again giving him more access to suck in more of marks onto your skin.
“Vale, now you’re ready..” he said licking his lips while admiring your neck covered in hickeys. Pablo was proud!!
“Hmm they look so good Papi” you wink knowing it builds his ego as he smiles leaving a few kisses on top before you get up.
“They look good on you muñeca” he said while you checked yourself up in the mirror.
“Hm I don’t need jewelry..this is my second favorite necklace..my favorite is..your handprint” you whisper into his ear that last part and he clenched his jaw wanting desperately to recover and take you how only he knows..it’s been so long.
“ Behave muñeca..or imma make you go on your knees before you leave” he said and you pouted kissing his lips slowly as he put his tongue into your mouth holding your jaw roughly.
“Mm maybe that’s what I want Papi” you smirk getting on your knees in front of him while he tossed his head back with a loud groan.
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labyrinthofsphinx · 7 months ago
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Behold, terrible people and the muffin they stole!
A scene from my drabble below. Wanted to do something special so a bit of art to go with. As always, let me know your thoughts, guys!
Statistical Outliers
“So, I’m your man, huh?”
“You know, it’s a fucking shame you just got that new head of yours because if you say that one more fucking time, I will bash it in again.”
The day hadn’t exactly gone as planned, but he won’t complain about the ending, at least. After calming both Valentino and Velvette down, enough that a manhunt for the imagined Alastor shadow wasn’t going to sound off anytime soon, he had to compensate them for…well, their time, he’d suppose. He didn’t expect that kind of reaction, the reactionary viciousness. Which also meant compensation had to be just as well.
Vel was easy to fix. He just gave her his credit card. Go nuts with it.
Val was harder to please, but less painful to his wallet. He still took him out, rented out the whole nightclub for just him and his groupies. They drank like fish and spent a terribly long time in the club’s backrooms. Val, still reeling from the damage Vox did to him just the night before, was absolutely ravaged by days end.
Not that the day ended when they got back, mind you. Hence the teasing.
“No need to be so hostile, Val. I’m just saying-”
“Yeah? Well, now you need to shut up.”
He was on the lounge, trying to pretend like he wasn’t showing off his legs again. As if they weren’t already covered top to bottom in marks, bites, and scratches. He stretched out, arms gliding along his hips, toying with the belt of yet another bathrobe that Vox will need to replace. The man was insatiable, he’ll give him that.
“Hmm.” He brought his head forward, right next to Val’s antenna. They were sensitive, much more than you’d expect. The slight vibrations of a voice sent them twitching. The static from a TV had them spiraling. Vox teased a breath by them. “Sure, Val. Whatever you want, today.”
He didn’t really want him to shut up. It was one of his favorite things about Vox, he’s pretty sure. Valentino was a man of ego, and he loved nothing more than having it stroked in every possible, conceivable way. He’s never said as much, but he’s pretty sure that’s why he always petitions him in the monitor room. There’s just something appealing to the man about having eyes watch them from everywhere, of hearing praise from everywhere. Especially if it was Vox’s.
He shivered when Vox ever so gently ran his fingers through with his antenna. Had he not been spent from before, Vox’s is pretty sure Val would’ve leapt up and dragged Vox to the floor with him.
“What I want would involve enough screaming to wake the damn ring.” He huffed.
“Oh, you want to scream now?” Vox teased. “I can help with that.”
“Vox, you talk too much.” He said, as if he wasn’t vibrating from the idea.
“That’s what they tell me.” He joked, pulling away enough to make Valentino miss his presence by his side.
It was always like this, this tugging and pulling. Some days, Val would want nothing more than Vox. Other days, well, Vox loses his face. One could never quite tell where the dice were going to land, but he’d be a liar to say that there wasn’t something he loved about it, in a sick sense of the word. Sure, he never wanted to get his head rearranged, but Val being in a violent mood could be fun, has been fun in the past.
It was just a whole lot less fun when he ended up with the target on his head. Honestly, he can’t even remember when that started to happen, only that he just had to account for it in the schedule and budget.
But at least it was still Vox. His anger and desire was still centered on Vox.
Until Angel Dust happened.
Cut it out, Vox. Don’t think of him right now. That line of thinking never goes anywhere good. Besides, he was still on camera! Can’t be frowning in the middle of the scene, now can we?
His hands quickly wrapped around Val’s sides. Before he had time to react, he’d already pulled him up in his arms. Val’s legs hitched at Vox’s waist, and his arms tugged across his shoulders and face.
That was another thing Val loved, being manhandled. Being eleven feet tall apparently gives people the wrong impression, but Vox knew better. Val was a moth, a fuzzy casing of exoskeleton covering nothing but softness underneath. He seemed strong because he was big, and because some of that frame gave him power to work with. But it was nothing compared to the complex dance of flesh, bone, and machinery. He’s not as tall, obviously, but there was a reason Val always chose to aim for his face or the delicate parts still left on his skin. If he bit too far, or aimed just a little wrong, Val could accidentally end up damn near breaking his own hand.
 Machines didn’t have the same rules for bodies that living things do. Both were complicated and everything inside served a function for higher operations, but machines were made to carry out everything at a hundred percent of their ability. They do what they’re programed to, nothing more and nothing less. Organic machinery was built for the opposite, the gradients and the fine tuning. One was determination made from metal and iron, and the other was calculation on the scale of nerves and cells. And Vox was a mismatched mess stuck between the two.
That meant that when he did decide to pull, there was little Val could do but ride out the wave. Not that this wasn’t already what he had in mind, given his poison nearly dripping onto Vox’s face.
“Oh, I should’ve just gone to that shitty hotel and brought you back Alastor’s head.” Val purred. “I can’t imagine what you’d do then.”
While in theory that was incredibly hot, Vox wasn’t going to be giving him any ideas. Especially since this is Val, and he might think his stupid theory is a good idea later.
“Don’t tell me your thinking of leaving now?” Vox’s voice added a bit of television fading, just as he brought a finger to tease the length of Val’s spine.
“Oh, not on your life.”
“Good.”
One last steamy session on the longue later and a cleanup in the bath that also might’ve gotten a little steamy, and Vox had them both tucked into his bed. He never smoked Val’s cigarettes, even after they were done. Sure, it might not have the same effect on him as it does others, screen head and all that, but something in the chemicals brings his thoughts around to the worst. Maybe Val smoked too much before making out, because Vox’s head was dragging him around even without the visible smoke.
Alastor wasn’t just a Vox problem. Val probably knew that better than Vel, but she’s been around long enough to know. If the king falls, the game is over, isn’t it? Is that the only reason they came charging in today? Maybe. And why would he expect something else? He shouldn’t.
Every machine had a use, a function. Vox keeps the train moving. Vox keeps the Vees at the top. Vox keeps all of Hell focused on them, loving them.
But to his fellow Vees? Vox solves problems. That’s his function.
He admits there’s attachment there but, well, let’s just say he’s never under the assumption that the attachment wasn’t built from necessity. Like a certain radio freak mentioned once, keep only the necessities, everything else is a potential liability.
But then there’s days like today. When something bad almost happened, or he thought it would, and he was a little surprised they showed up. I mean, obviously they would. As he said, he was required for things to work. The body didn’t function without a brain.
That didn’t stop his replay on Val’s and Vel’s words, ‘my man’ and ‘my boys’ respectively. He liked the sound of that.
Then, of course, there was the kid. He literally clawed his way up most of the levels of Vee tower to make sure he was alive. Not to mention that this is literally like the second time he’s promised to maim the kid and he still insists that they’re friends. If it wasn’t for the fact that he tested what the kid said about his suggestions not working before Vel took him to the spa, Vox would be questioning if he accidentally hypnotized the kid into liking him. Because none of that is normal. Then again, who the hell is normal down here?
The more he thinks on it, what was the kid’s plan? What if Alastor had been in the room? What if they were fighting? What if Vox was losing? Not that he would, because he wouldn’t be, but hypothetically. What would he do then?
He wasn’t good in a fight, that much was clear. He didn’t have powers, and certainly nothing that would stand up eldritch shadow demons…
Wait, did he just assume the kid would be on his side? Why did his calcs jump to that?
Feedback on his systems told him exactly why, playing back footage from the past several days. Simply, because Vox was his friend, and it was obvious now that there was little he wouldn’t do for his friends.
Oh, fucking damn it. The kid latched on like tumor to the brain.
He liked that kid, selfishly and stupidly attached to him.
He was trying hard not to smile, but it’s difficult to force a face without muscles to do much of anything, especially when his program literally pours his thoughts into expression. And it was hard to be in a bad mood right now.
‘My man’. ‘My boys’. ‘My friend’.
“Voxxy, your screen is pink.”
“Shut up, Val.”
“Oh, it’s practically maroon now.”
“Shut the fuck up, Val!”
Like adding gasoline to flame, the bedroom door was flung open. Distracted as he’d been, he failed to notice that Vel had come back from the spa and already jumped into pajamas. She kicked open the door, and waltzed in like she owned the place. In her arms, the kid dangled like a stuffed animal fresh out the dryer.
“I’m assuming since you guys are talking in full sentences that you’re done now?” Vel said. For once, her phone was tucked away, probably in a pocket in her lounge shorts.
“‘Till the morning, I suppose. It’s the best way to start mornings.” Val answered for them, a finger teasing the side of Vox’s head.
The kid’s expression was blank, like he was staring into a void. He was clean at least.
“What happened to you?” Vox asked.
“We went to the spa.” Mimicking Val, Velvette answered for the two of them. “I got everything done, including a two hour massage. The masseur was some centipede guy, thousand arms and all. You really need steal that guy, Vee. My back feels great.”
He kept looking at the kid, waiting for his answer. When he finally decided that he could answer with the other two around, he spoke like he was experiencing a flashback to a war.
“I now know what it’s like to be play-doh.”
Despite himself, Vox tossed his head back, rolling.
“Anyways,” Vel readjusted the kid in her arms and started walking over to the bed. “you two are dressed, yeah? Because this is an invasion.”
Well, Val was as dressed as Val ever is, kept decent just barely by the length of Vox’s robes. He really needed to start ordering them five sizes too tall at this point. As for himself, he had the decency to swap into regular pajamas…just in case he and kid couldn’t sleep and wanted to give Asteroids another go.
Not that Velvette waited for an answer. The bed was big, obviously. It had to be to hold Val. Save for when he unfolds his wings, the bed could hold an ungodly amount of people. Honestly, it was just cheaper to buy two of the same size bed when he was ordering Val’s. That’s the only reason it was so stupidly big. Vox didn’t share the bed often enough to warrant it, unlike Val.
Velvette climbed over him, landing just beneath his right arm and tucking herself against his chest. In doing so, she pulled off the blanket. Probably a smart decision because of how hot Vox was to sleep against. He was unofficially Velvette’s favorite that-time-of-the-month pillow. Val, to his left, just wrapped his arms around Vox’s legs and his left arm, as per always.
The kid was crushed in the space between Vel’s body and his own. With all that fur, he could imagine it was going to get very hot, very quickly there. Using the one arm that hadn’t been abducted yet, he punched the pillow beside his head. Then, he snuck down, plucked the kid up, and put him on it.
He was rewarded by an honest smile. In hell, that was a pretty rare gift.
Then, the little body wrapped around that arm, a big fluffy tail curling down and tickling his sides. Holy shit, he was small. The kid was curled almost entirely into the palm of his hand.
Before he even knew it, he was surrounded. Trapped, you might even say, by a tangled mess of bodies all fighting for a bit of his body heat.
Oh, there were worse ways to end the evening. Barring something amazing happening, like Alastor keeling over dead or Lucifer handing over his crown, this might just be as good as it gets.
You know, fuck that heaven bullshit. This was heaven.
“’Night, Vee.” Velvette mumbled, half asleep.
“Night, guys.”
He didn’t get to sleep right away. He stayed awake long enough to hear the little noises, an offkey song of sleep. Val squeaked in his sleep, randomly. His wings would flutter together sometimes, but the fuzz on the scales kept it from sounding much more than the sound of skin touching skin. Vel talks in her sleep, sort of. She mumbles more than anything. It was never enough to make a sentence out of, in fact it sounded a bit like baby babble. Occasionally, her phone would ping, but he was so used to the sound now that it was basically a backtrack to his day.
The kid was the newest sound. He knew now that foxes could, apparently, squeak. But, as Vox was sitting there and gingerly gliding his fingers through freshly cleaned fur, he heard a different sound.
They purr? Why do they purr?
Unconsciously, the kid snuggled his face into Vox’s hand, the ridiculously soft coat almost swallowing up his digits.
Oh, this was all too cute. This was all too fucking much for today. Cuteness aggression hit him like a truck again, and it was a struggle against every instinct in his body not to move, for fear of ruining it all by waking one of them up.
Then, he caught on something.
The collar that Velvette had put on the kid on day one was snug tight against his throat. Drowned out by his fur, Vox had almost forgotten about it. It felt so odd, out of place. The cold metal stuck flat to his skin, with only the little charm hanging a little more comfortably away.
He tugged a little, just enough to see it better.
The bright blue ‘V’ looked almost neon in the dark, surrounded by that deep red heart. It really did look like a dog collar like this, didn’t it?
Dehumanizing something was easy here. No one even looked human anymore. Very few acted human even when they were alive.
A few days ago, he didn’t give it a second thought. He couldn’t have cared less. Now though?
Carefully, he undid the little magnetic hook in the back. Unlike a normal collar, this one was designed to never come off, not unless one of the three of them did it. The key was a simple, a contrary magnetic pull that would activate the lock, but too strong or too weak of a pull would just break it and cause it to get stuck. Vel probably had the actual key in her room, but it didn’t take much of Vox’s power to undo a little magnetic flux.
He twirled it around the kid’s wrist instead, like a bracelet, not unlike the ones Velvette always wears anyways. As the clasp closed, his little paw wrapped around his palm, bringing it back up to his face and cradling it like a pillow.
“Night, Drift.” Vox said, before letting the night and its new symphony drag him off someplace nice.
That might’ve been the best sleep of his life.
Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 5/ Part 6/ Part 7/ Part 8/ Part 9/ Part 10/ Part 11
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tofulune · 1 year ago
Text
༻skin/flesh/beating hearts
i. SKIN (down to the roots)
ii. FLESH (all that i am)
iii. BEATING HEARTS (new beginnings)
—"Darling, did you mean free from me?"
Vi x F!Reader
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Synopsis: You live underneath Vi’s ribcage as a squiggly, fading stick-and-poke Vi had pressured you into doing.
OR
A series of drabbles in which Vi copes with the loss of her first love (you).
Tags: [1,122 Words], First Love, Tattooing, Petty Arguments, Cuddling
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You live underneath Vi’s ribcage as a squiggly, fading stick-and-poke Vi had pressured you into doing for her.
She never thought you’d actually do it until your shaky hands found its way onto the needle. Vi remembers the quivers with each stroke and the pain hidden behind her amusement for your careful gaze.
It’s amusing to Vi.
“I don’t know why you’re making me do this…” You mumble out.
A secret part of her relishes in the moments where you fuss over her, when you're careful with her. She smirks when you’re not looking.
Even though she’s upset at you right now, one look at you and Vi wants to promise you the world.
“I’m just so…mad! Like, don’t you ever get tired of it?” Vi says and her ribs puff out with each angry sigh she lets out much to your alarm, your eyebrows furrowing in concern as you try to smooth the skin taut again. You scold Vi, but she keeps talking as if waving you off. “That enforcers can just do whatever they want to us because of where we come from?”
“I thought you said we’d stop talking about this.”
“Not until I understand what your problem is.”
This morning, the two of you got in a fight about a job Vi heard about from Little Man. Vi, you, and the others were supposed to be packed and ready to go by tonight, but when you found out the job was in the heart of Piltover you and Vi started to argue which ended up in you guys not heading out anymore.
Now, Vi did not care about what anyone else thought. If Mylo or Claggor had anything to say about a job she’d tell them to suck it up and keep on.
With you it’s different.
She could probably keep on without you…for a little bit anyway. The thing is, that unlike Mylo and Claggor who follow Vi trying to catch up, you plant your stubborn feet into the floor and not too long later Vi’s ego comes running back after you, upset and all.
Safe to say, even if she did leave she wouldn’t even have made it out the door.
You take the needle back huffing and furrowing your brows at Vi and Vi immediately shuts her mouth and holds your wrist keeping the needle there with a determined look on her face.
It’s quiet a moment.
“Tell me your greatest dream.” Vi says still a bit angry, but you can tell she tried to soften her voice.
“My greatest dream?” You reply, raising a brow, confused at the sudden change of topic. Your hand relaxes though and you resume the tattoo on the second loop of the letter in your name.
“It could be anything.”
Vi watches you carefully and attentively as if she’s ready to ingrain your words to memory.
You’re still quiet as a mouse.
Vi grumbles sighing thinking you might not want to talk. Vi looks away with a small frown on her lips though her brows remain furrowed.
You pause the tattoo and sit up a bit. Your eyes wander around the room before a slight sheepish smile appears on your lips. Vi notices it, confused a bit.
“It’s silly…”
Vi’s own small smile appears at your shyness. Did your greatest dream have something to do with…her?
“I won’t judge.”
The room is tense as you stare at Vi, gnawing at your bottom lip before sighing and giving in.
The way you look at Vi makes the butterflies in her stomach flutter. She hopes she’s not blushing as she tries her best to have a neutral face.
“…A princess.”
“Huh…?”
Vi snorts thinking it was some sort of joke and she laughs, which was a mistake because her rib aches and she holds your name (or at least half of it) with a groan.
“I mean it…!” You smile rolling your eyes chuckling at Vi’s agony, the atmosphere becoming a lot less tense. “I really do think it’d be nice to be a princess…”
Vi grimaces as she looks back at you slowly laying on her pillows again. You pull her skin taut and start working on your name again.
“Sure, but why a princess?” She shrugs.
“Well…we always scale those tall buildings when we head topside. Maybe I’d like to be inside one day. High ceilings and all.”
You pause, just taking in the sounds of Vi’s small breaths whenever you poke at her.
“I mean, Piltover looks like a fairytale compared to Zaun. I spent all my life looking up at what could be.” You decide to say.
“Then…I guess that makes sense.” And Vi means it.
When Vi looks at you, you were the perfect princess. She wants that for you and she imagines that for you. You, in a castle with a crown of jewels and clothes that weren’t worn out or faded.
Vi smiles before snorting. “There’s not really an opportunity to be a princess down here.”
“Well…I like being down here with you.”
You say it as if you were wondering if it was such a crime to want to be with Vi. To be safe under Vander’s protection. You two were still just teenagers, you understood that much.
Vi smiles. Though she loves the feeling she gets in her heart when she hears it, she never understood until later that this is enough for you.
She supposes that’s where you two were opposites.
You and Vi were always a push and pull with each other.
You were steady and she would always rock the boat, yet you both were too stubborn to see the other’s side.
You lift the needle off of Vi’s ribs staring at her.
You two were so upset with each other.
Yet there was your name like a promise.
In squiggly black ink is your name, carved into her ribcage.
You don’t move when Vi then takes your hand holding it against her cheek as she closes her eyes.
Vi’s love felt like a curse sometimes. The shield and the blade all at once.
Vi loved so hard sometimes it felt as though you were suffocating.
But someone like you who’s parents are always working in the factories, who didn’t have a brigade like Vi did, her love was all you’ve ever known and you were selfish with it.
“First thing tomorrow morning we’ll go to the penthouse in Piltover.” You say softly laying down and resting your head on Vi’s shoulder.
Vi’s eyes perk up a bit and she raises a brow.
“You think it’s a good idea?”
You nod, “I trust you.”
Though you and Vi had your differences, the love was there. That much was known.
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