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#they just make him do whatever these days huh
evansbby · 1 day
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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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darylbae · 3 days
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𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡🩰
i think daryl would definitely not realize it at first, in fact i think the group would notice it before him. rick would see the way daryl's gaze would linger onto you when he'd talk about a risky supply run. rick would of course tell michonne, who would poke a little fun at him. "you like her!" "shut up, i do not!" and it wasn't until he'd laid down for the night, that he had realized it. he'd think about your eyes, and how bright they were when you'd be talking to anybody. he'd think about the nervous tells you had, like bouncing your leg, chewing on your lip and looking around the room. he'd think about how, sometimes annoyingly, bubbly you were no matter what. it would typically bother him how happy you were mid-apocalypse, but he lets it slide more often than not. he would not pick up on this stuff if he didn't have a crush. he'd be hyper-aware of how he acts around you, after admitting to himself he had a crush on you. he'd glance at you, then quickly glance away, but always end up looking back over at you. he'd study your lips and how they moved, wanting nothing more than to feel them on his. most of all, he'd keep it to himself. because the last thing he needs is everyone finding this out. and making your friendship with him tense. carol could see through daryl almost too easily, so she's the only one who can get away with poking the bear. besides you. "you like her, huh?" carol would ask, and daryl would just roll his eyes. "so what?" "do something about it!" daryl had no understanding of 'doing something about it', despite his moody, careless attitude, he cared deeply about your friendship and wanted nothing to ruin that. rick was playing matchmaker and suggested the two of you to go out on a run, much to daryl's dismay. now he'd have to deal with his constant reminder of his crush on you, as well as you. there you were, sat sweetly on the hood of a car waiting for him, a smile plastered onto your face as you spotted him. "ready to go?" you asked, your voice smooth as honey and it had sent shivers up his neck. "get in." he'd mumble. "yes, sir." let's not talk about your use of the word sir, and what it does to him. he couldn't explain it, the authority of the word sir, just hit him in his sweet spot. he'd constantly look out for you on runs, even when going along with others, he'd volunteer to split up but stick with you. it wasn't like you were a nuisance, not all the time anyway, he just loved being there for you. he'd walk behind you, trying to be a gentleman and stop himself from gazing across your body as you walked. you were the total personification of sex. "can i bring this back?" you'd ask, picking up something stupidly unnecessary, this time it was a small, pink, glittery cowboy hat attached to a pink headband. "will it help us?" he'd respond, not even looking your way, but still having to keep you entertained. "no." you'd respond, glum face as you look down at it back on the shelf. "then i think we found our answer." daryl was always a bummer, but you had gotten used to it. you knew how deeply he cared for his people, so what was a little grumpiness. but you'd always return back, and find whatever stupid thing you'd found on a run, sitting on your bed by the end of the day.
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mulloey · 1 day
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perks of the job • mingi & yunho
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mingi likes to share
warnings: boyfriend mingi, mingi’s friend threesome, kind of dp (pussy and mouth), dom yunho and mingi but yunho is more dominant, sucking off mingi so good he starts seeing god, mild pet play (yunho makes you crawl), mild praise & degredation, slapping, mentioned punishment, canon massive dick yunho, brief mirror sex, mingi is kind of a cuck,, he’s not a sub but he very much gets off on watching you being used by his buddy, implied manwhore yunho who likes fucking his members’ girlfriends
—————
“I have an idea.”
You look up from your phone to see your boyfriend standing in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe. You didn’t even know he was awake; you’d left him to sleep when you got up this morning, knowing he’d be tired after staying up all night recording. You can see he’s still half-asleep, eyelids drooping slightly and that dazed expression he has when he’s sleepy still written on his face.
“Morning, Mingi,” you smile. “What’s your idea?”
He clears his throat, shifting on his feet and you frown. He seems nervous about this idea — nervous to share it at least. After months together he rarely even hesitates to share anything with you, so to see him like this has your curiosity piqued. “What is it?” You repeat.
“Um…” he starts. “I think Yunho should fuck you. With me. Together.”
You baulk slightly. You hadn’t expected that to be the idea. You’d talked about the idea of multiples before, but it was casually, and you’d never named names. You definitely hadn’t named his own members and best friends. “Oh.”
“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” Mingi says quickly, clearly worried he’s upset or offended you. “It’s just a thought I had.”
You smile and shake your head, reassuring him. “No, I’m definitely… open to it. But why Yunho?”
He smiles and shrugs, coming to sit next to you on the couch. “I lived with him for years,” he says. “He’s into that kind of thing. And he’s into you.”
You can’t pretend you haven’t noticed the last part. Whenever you saw the other members you’d notice his gaze lingering on you, his eyes hovering over your lips, tits and ass; probably without him realising though, because he’s always been exceptionally polite and respectful to you. But the first part is new. “That kind of thing?” You ask.
He nods. “Yeah, he likes being the ‘third’ or whatever. It gets him off in a weird way. He did it with San’s ex all the time.”
Huh. This is new information to you, but knowing Yunho decently well, it’s not surprising. “He fucked San’s ex?”
“Yep,” Mingi says. “Well, they fucked her together. He loved it. I think he was more upset when they broke up than San was.”
You laugh a little, but your brain is already filled with images of Yunho doing… that to you. Fucking you with Mingi, taking you to new heights and using you for his own pleasure at the same time. You can’t say you’ve never thought about him like that; he’s so tall and large and attractive that you can’t help but wonder what he’d be like. Would he be rough? Sensual? Would he take control, calling the shots over you and Mingi or would he let Mingi tell him what to do, how to fuck you?
Now that it’s on the table, you know you need to find out.
“Have you talked to him about this?” You ask.
“Only hypothetically,” Mingi says quickly. “I’d never offer you up like that. I just asked if he thought it’d be fun in theory.”
“And?”
Mingi’s lip quirks. “He said he’d love to.”
—————
Once you agree it’s arranged quickly. Mingi broaches the topic when he sees Yunho at work the next day and Yunho apparently agrees before he can even finish asking the question. You meet Yunho for coffee a few times with Mingi and find that he’s extremely easy to talk to about this. You also find that, now that he knows it’s acceptable, his leering at you is even more blatant. Once you watch as his gaze stays fixed on your tits for 3 entire minutes. It’s strangely thrilling to be looked at like that. You can’t wait until he can finally get his hands on them — and neither, of course, can he.
It finally happens a few days later, in the apartment you share with Mingi. You wake up early that morning, excitement making it too hard to sleep, and take an hour or two to prepare yourself in the shower, shaving and exfoliating every inch of your body. Not that you don’t make an effort to look good for Mingi like this, but this is a special occasion and you want to make a good impression.
Yunho arrives at 7pm on the dot, and the sound of the doorbell has never been so terrifying. Mingi smiles reassuringly before he goes to answer, leaving you waiting on the couch. The sound of voices as Yunho enters the house sets your heart racing. You hear their casual greetings and laughter and stand to greet your guest as he enters the living room. When he sets his eyes on you for the first time he seems to freeze slightly — just as you planned. The tiny white dress you’re wearing shows off your curves perfectly, flattering you from every angle. He takes a moment to digest the heavenly sight in front of him before he greets you with a charming smile. “Hi.”
“Hi,” you say shyly.
“Are you nervous?” Yunho asks.
You nod, a little embarrassed and he chuckles. “Don’t be,” he says. “I’m very experienced with this. I’ll take good care of you, honey.”
Mingi smiles at him before approaching you, wrapping a reassuring arm around your shoulder. You instinctively hide your face in his chest and he tuts, gently pushing you off. “Be polite to our guest, baby,” he chides. You blush deeply but nod and he strokes your cheek. “Good girl.”
You smile shyly at your boyfriend. You can see he’s nervous too, a slightly unsure look on his face, but it’s far outweighed by the excitement evident in his eyes. He smiles reassuringly at you, pressing a kiss to your lips before beckoning Yunho over. Yunho greets you with a hug, just like normal, but you know there’s something much, much deeper behind it this time.
“How does this work?” You ask. “Do we just start?”
Yunho smiles. “It’s up to you,” he says. “We could get right to it, or we could hang out for a while. Watch a movie together or something.”
“Just a normal movie?”
Yunho chuckles, recognising the implication. “Yes, of course. Anything you like. But I can’t promise I won’t start feeling you up if you’re sitting next to me.”
You shrug, hoping your face doesn’t look as hot as it feels. “That would be fine,” you say quietly and he grins. “But I’d rather just start now.”
Both men chuckle and Yunho pets your hair. It’s not the first time he’s done it to you, he’s always been quite physical (but respectful) whenever he sees you, but it is the first time it’s had quite this effect on you. It doesn’t feel like a gesture from an affectionate friend anymore, but rather, a gentle, teasing touch from someone who’s planning on doing a whole lot more.
Yunho notices your reaction, maybe because it wasn’t as subtle as you thought, and laughs. “You’re so sensitive to me, aren’t you?” He says. “Have you wanted this for as long as I have?”
“Oh, she has,” Mingi answers for you. “She’s had a thing for you since you met, haven’t you baby? She thinks she’s hidden it well but I always knew.”
You throw him a glare but he just smiles innocently, tilting his head teasingly. “Just telling the truth,” he giggles.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” Yunho tells you. “You can’t help how you feel, can you?”
You shrug, shaking your head. “I guess not.”
Yunho smiles, wrapping an arm around your waist. “It’s okay,” he whispers. “I’ve always known you think with your pussy. Little sluts like you always do.”
Your breath hitches and you feel his words deep in your stomach. In your discussions about tonight, Yunho had asked you about the kind of things you enjoyed in the bedroom, and without waiting for you to answer Mingi had gleefully told him how much you enjoyed being talked down to. You’d blushed deeply but while Yunho had laughingly told him to let you speak for yourself, you’d seen the dark gleam that briefly crossed his eyes as he took note of it. You guess he likes it too.
“What do you think?” Yunho asks. His voice is getting lower and more strained each time he speaks and you feel the energy and tension emanating off of him. “Are you a slut?”
“Yes,” you breathe. “I’m a slut, Yunho.”
He smiles and takes your flushed cheeks in his hands, forcing your eyes onto him. You feel the way his massive hands dwarf your face and it sends shivers down your spine. He could really do anything he wants to you right now. “Then you’ll do what I say, right?” He asks. “Since you’re such a slut.”
You nod almost deliriously, desperate to please him. Yunho smiles at the sight and you hear Mingi laugh next to you. “Such a cutie you have, Mingi,” Yunho tells your boyfriend. “I’d be so jealous if she wasn’t offering herself up like a whore for me anyway.”
Your gaze shifts to your boyfriend, gauging his reaction. He’s fiercely protective of you, sometimes a little too sensitive to the jokes even his best friends make, so you wonder if he’s bothered by Yunho talking about you like this; even if he’d told him it’d be okay, it might be different in reality, hearing his precious, darling girl degraded and objectified like this. But it’s clearly not — your boyfriend is rock hard, dick straining against his pants from hearing you spoken about in such a demeaning way. It makes you even wetter than you already are.
“Shall we take her to our room, Yunho?” Mingi asks.
Yunho nods. He’s been to your house a few times since you’d moved in so he knows the way, but he gestures for Mingi to lead. Your boyfriend motions for you to follow him but Yunho stops you, sticking an arm out in front of you to stop you in your tracks. “Wait,” he says. You stare up at him confusedly and Mingi turns to face him, unsure.
“She can crawl,” Yunho says.
Mingi nods, slight smirk on his lips as he motions for you to get down. “You heard the man,” he grins. “On your fours, baby.”
You feel your breathing falter slightly, unsure of yourself as you lower yourself to your knees. As you start to crawl you feel the burn of hardwood floor against your bare knees but you don’t care. You’ve never been more turned on than right now, crawling through your own apartment with the looming presence of two large men walking closely behind you. You feel almost like stalked prey, pursued by two larger, stronger, hungry predators preparing to strike.
Reaching the door of your shared bedroom, Yunho holds it open for you, allowing you to crawl through onto the — mercifully — soft carpets of your room.
The two men settle side by side on the bed, staring down at you with dark, piercing gazes.
“We’re gonna use you tonight,” Yunho says after a few seconds, breaking the tension-filled silence. “You’re gonna show us what a good fuck toy you can be, yeah?”
You nod, blushing slightly and Mingi smiles. “I think she should suck us off first,” he tells Yunho.
“Good idea,” Yunho nods. “Suck Mingi’s dick first, baby,” he says. “Show me how you please him.”
You nod your understanding, watching as Mingi pulls his length out and motions you closer. You crawl towards where he’s sat at the edge of the bed and sit back up on your haunches. Mingi smiles kindly at you, miming a kiss which you return. He lets you take his cock in his hands first, rubbing the length up and down a few times before taking it into your mouth. Just like Yunho, your boyfriend is massive, and he shows no mercy as he slams it against the back of your throat again and again, letting you choke helplessly on it. He places a hand on your head, tangling it in your hair so he can keep you in place more easily while the other holds your hand where it desperately grips his thigh. You pleasure him just like you’ve practised, moving between deepthroating, sucking and licking according to the commands of the men above you.
“Choke on it again,” Yunho orders. Through teary eyes you look up to see his gaze fixed on you, mouth parted in awe slightly while he slowly palms himself through his pants.
You do what he says, forcing Mingi’s cock to the back of your throat until you gag, pulling your head off of it. Mingi gives you a split second of respite before he yanks your head towards him, forcing his cock down your throat again. He repeats it over and over — choke, recover, choke — until he gets too worked up, so desperate he can’t bear to not have you choking on him for even a second, and holds your head firmly in place, not allowing you to move back and breathe even for a moment. He knows what you can take and how far he can push you, and he’s going to.
“Fuck,” he hisses. “You sound so good, baby. Feel so good too. You wanna give Yunho a turn?”
You whine, muffled by his cock as you nod desperately and they chuckle. Mingi gently pulls his cock out of his mouth, slapping it against your cheek a few times before nodding at Yunho. At Mingi’s cue Yunho grabs a fistful of your hair and drags you towards him. “I'm a little bigger than Mingi,” he warns. “But I think you can handle it. Do you, Mingi?”
“She definitely can,” your boyfriend affirms. “She’s so talented.”
Yunho laughs softly before finally pulling out his cock and fuck, he was right. It’s not just long, but one of the thickest and prettiest cocks you’ve ever seen. You feel your eyes water again at the sight and you gulp, staring up at Yunho’s smirking face. His face softens seeing your anxiety and he smiles, reaching a hand to stroke your cheek and letting you briefly nuzzle into it.
“Don’t be scared,” he says. “I’m right here. So’s Mingi.”
You nod, pulling yourself together before inching your head towards Yunho’s cock. You look up at him again, silently asking for permission which he grants with a nod before you take him into his mouth.
You start with the head, holding the shaft in your hand and licking experimentally at the tip. It tastes good, clean, so you quickly let yourself take the rest of it into your mouth. You bob up and down on it, loosening your throat up to take it deeper. His grip in your hair tightens as you go further, strangled groans released when you hit a particularly good sport. Determined to get the whole thing in your throat, you lift yourself up off your knees slightly and he takes the opportunity to reach his hand around to harshly slap your thinly covered ass. You scream around his cock, causing him to moan louder. “Fuck, Mingi, where’d you find her?” He groans. “She’s so fucking good at this.”
Mingi laughs, reaching to stroke the back of your head gently. “I got lucky, didn’t I?”
“I’ll fucking say,” Yunho gasps and you giggle slightly. He moans, yanking your hair forwards to force you further down his cock again. “Feels so fucking good when you do that baby. Make these pretty noises with my big dick in your mouth.”
You work for a few more minutes, and you can feel his orgasm coming before he abruptly pulls out, he stands, wobbling slightly which makes you proud, and points to the bed. “Up here,” he orders. “All fours.”
You manage to pull yourself up despite the slight dizziness from the way you’ve just been used and settle to where he points, lying on your front with your ass sticking up. Mingi leans to reach your head, gently stroking your hairs as he whispers, “you’re doing so well, baby.” You smile softly at him, leaning to kiss him which he allows, pressing a brief, chaste kiss to your swollen lips. “Good girl,” he says, before standing up to join his friend.
From this position, you only just notice, you have a perfect view of yourself in a mirror, and of the two men looming behind you. You don’t remember buying this, and definitely don’t remember putting it here, but fuck if it isn’t a stroke of genius. You gulp, looking up to Yunho’s reflection in the mirror. His brows are furrowed as he stares your body up and down like he’s inspecting it, and he offers a brief smile while he notices you staring.
“Like the mirror, baby?” He asks. “I had Mingi buy it and move it here this morning. Wanted to surprise you.”
You make a noise of appreciation and he smiles. He bends over slightly, leaning over you until his head is right next to yours. He keeps his eyes on the mirror, making eye contact with your reflection as he speaks. “Ready to see how pretty you look when I fuck you? When we fuck you?”
You whine, feeling his words in your stomach and he grins, pressing a kiss to your cheek before straightening back up. You feel two pairs of hands on your, running up and down every inch of your body like they’re claiming ownership, before Yunho quickly flips up your flimsy dress to reveal your ass.
“No panties,” he whistles. “Good slut.”
With one hand pressing down on your back to hold you in place, the other runs over your ass carefully before winding back and delivering a hard slap. It’s hard and strong, making your ears ring briefly and you cry out softly, burning your head in the pillow. Another hand hits you, and you recognise the soothing touches that come after as Mingi — whenever your boyfriend spanks you, he likes to rub circles on the spot he’d struck to massage in the pain. You don’t know if he even knows he does it, but it’s a sweet quirk that reminds you that your loving, adoring boyfriend is still here. “Don’t hide your face, baby,” he says. “That’s why we put the mirror there. We want to see your pretty reactions at all times.”
You nod, lifting your head up and whispering an apology. The men smile, each stroking one of your ass cheek’s soothingly. “Good girl,” Yunho says. “I don’t want to have to punish you when we’re having so much fun.”
Your mouth opens wordlessly and you stare at Yunho, confused, scared and turned on. “P…punish?” You ask quietly.
Yunho smiles, chuckling softly as he gently pats the red mark on your ass where he’d struck you. “I guess we never talked about that, did we? I like the girls I fuck to be obedient, and I’m willing to make sure they are myself.”
“With permission, of course,” Mingi quickly interjects before you can worry.
“Of course,” Yunho agrees. “I’ve never punished anyone who wasn’t begging me to correct their behaviour.”
“Oh,” you say. Your brain is brimming now with thoughts of Yunho punishing you. You wonder what he’d do; maybe he’d go the classic route and spank you to tears. Or maybe he’d force orgasm after orgasm out of you like he’d told you he likes to do, or not let you come at all. As much as you want to find out what he’d do, to hear him call you bad girl and tell you how you deserve to be punished, you can push those buttons another time. For now, all you can think about is that massive dick finally fucking you. “I’ll be good,” you whisper.
Yunho hums. You feel his hand move from your ass down to your naked pussy. His touches against it are feather-light, barely noticeable if they weren’t in such a sensitive place and from someone you’re so desperate for. His other hand, still on your back, presses down further as you start to squirm. “Remember what I said, baby,” he says as he presses a finger into you. “Be good and stay still.”
You nod, but as he adds a second and third finger you cry out and instinctively reach your arms back to touch him. He tuts, grabbing your arms and holding them down easily against your back with one hand. “I said stay still,” he chides. “Last warning, baby.”
You nod, whispering an apology which he accepts with a nod. The whole time Mingi’s been watching you, slowly stroking his cock as the sight of his girlfriend being used by his friend. Yunho notices and throws the other man a smile. “Why don’t you go fuck her mouth, Mingi?” He suggests. “Seems filling up one hole isn’t enough to keep her obedient.”
“Good idea,” Mingi smirks. He rounds the bed to stand in front of you, feeding his twitching cock into your mouth. He turns around, seeing your view of yourself blocked and grins. “So much for the mirror,” he laughs.
“Mm, so much for the mirror,” Yunho agrees. “Next time I’ll punish her for moving so much that we have to block it. But right now I just wanna fuck her.”
Mingi starts to thrust lazily into your mouth, gripping your hair like he did before. It feels incredible but you can barely focus on it. You’re desperate for Yunho now. Yunho pulls his fingers out, pushing your dress back a little further. “Hold her arms for me, Mingi,” he says. “I want all the leverage I can get.”
Mingi nods and reaches his hands forwards to hold your arms down against your back where they’d been before. Without a hand in your hair to force you down on him himself, he speed ups his thrusts, getting stronger and more merciless. You take it diligently, choking and spitting on it like the good girl you are.
When Yunho’s cock finally starts pushing into you, you falter slightly, involuntarily jolting forward into Mingi and forcing his cock to hit the back of your throat. It doesn’t last long before Yunho grabs your hips, yanking you back into him. He looked big and felt bigger in your mouth but this is something else entirely. It feels like having your virginity taken all over again tiny home stretched by an impossibly big and merciless dick. When he finally gets all the way in your scream around Mingi’s cock. You start to thrash but their grip on you is iron, holding you in place and completely at their mercy.
Yunho gives you a few seconds before he starts to move, slowly at first then faster and faster in his fucking into you relentlessly. You feel completely powerless, used in two holes and held down by strong hands who want nothing but to use you for their pleasure.
The entire bed is shaking from Yunho’s hard pounds and Mingi’s relentless thrusts in your mouth. While he fucks you Yunho delivers endless slaps to your ass and thighs and you’re sure your skin will be red and burning by the time he’s done with you. They’re both talking to you but you can barely hear them. All you can focus on is the feeling of being fucked without mercy by two of the largest cocks you’ve ever seen. You’re screaming without a break now, throat hoarse but you love it, you could live off this feeling for the rest of your life.
Mingi comes first; he’s always extra sensitive to your mouth. He’s not fast by any means but something about the way you suck him, the way you let him abuse your throat without a break, makes it hard for him to control himself. His load is massive, even bigger than usual, but you swallow every drop just like you’re ordered to. He keeps his cock, now soft, in your mouth, letting you suck at it for comfort while Yunho practically splits you open. With the way you’re screaming his cock also serves as a gag, keeping you marginally quieter so as to avoid any complaints from neighbours. The thought of it, having a soft cock in your mouth to gag your screams while another man fucks you, is so hot it brings you closer to your own climax.
Yunho lasts a little longer but you feel his orgasm coming, building up as his thrusts get harder and faster and his moans get louder until he’s yelling. With a final shout he releases inside you, thrusting a few times to empty himself completely. While he does so he reaches to rub your clit, wet fingers making it even more sensitive. When your orgasm finally hits, stronger and more overwhelming than ever before, he talks you through it but you’re so far out of it that you can’t quite decipher what he’s saying.
When he finally pulls out, releasing his iron grip on your, you collapse instantly, utterly exhausted. Mingi quickly takes you into his arms, holding your head against his chest and stroking your sweat-soaked hair. Yunho sits beside you, rubbing your legs and pressing soft kisses all over your body.
“You did so well,” Yunho says. “That was the most fun I’ve had doing this.”
You sniffle slightly and stare up at him. The dark, feral gleam in his eye is gone and his face is back to the kind, considerate Yunho you’ve known for a while. “Really?” You ask.
He chuckles, nodding slightly. “Really,” he confirms. “If you both want it, I’d love to do this again. Make it a regular thing, even. You’re too good to just leave it at this.”
You giggle, blushing slightly and your boyfriend laughs, staring down at you fondly. You feel the vibrations of the laughter in his chest and it comforts you. You sight happily, nuzzling into him as he caresses you, gently soothing you down from your high.
“Should I go get some snacks for her?” Yunho asks.
Mingi hums, nodding. “There’s some fruit on the table you can cut up for her. She’ll need some water too.”
Yunho nods. “Of course. I’ll be right back.”
He presses a kiss to your cheek before getting up and walking out, softly closing the door behind him. Mingi lifts your chin to press a soft, loving kiss to your lips. “My beautiful baby,” he smiles.
You smile back, your heart warm. “My Mingi.”
By the time Yunho returns you’ve fallen asleep in Mingi’s arms, lulled to sleep by his soft praises as he rocked you. Telling Mingi to make sure you eat it once you’re up, Yunho places the fruit on the nightstand and kisses your hand one last time before leaving.
When you check your phone a few hours later, once you’re fully down from your high, you see a new message lighting up your screen.
yunho: Good girl.
—————
hope you liked this! this is the longest smut ive written so far so please let me know your thoughts on it as i’ve put quite a bit of time into making it hot for u. so tell me what you think!! i get very motivated to write more when i get feedback or comments:) i’m getting to other requests now and the request box is still OPEN!! love🖤🖤
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rebouks · 3 days
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Previous // Next
Levi: What do you want? [Robin shrugged, peering around Levi’s head] Robin: Nothing in particular-.. who’s that, your sister? Levi: Yeah. Robin: Wanna ditch her n’ hang out? Levi: With you? Robin: Uh-huh-.. Jacob and Jude too, his dad’s looking at a house for sale over there. [Levi glanced over his shoulder, grimacing at the prospect of being stuck with Tiffany and her annoying friends] Levi: Fine, whatever. Levi: You know you forgot your shoes, right? Robin: Shoes are overrated-.. I like to feel stuff on my feet. Levi: [scoffs] Weirdo. … Levi: It’s tiny. Jacob: Houses are expensive though, right? Robin: Uh-huh, everything is. Levi: How much do you think this one’s worth? Jacob: Uh-.. ten thousand? Robin: [laughs] Try that times twenty. Jude: Woah. Jacob: How big is your house if this one’s so small then? Bigger than Robin’s? Levi: How should I know?! Robin: It’s kinda big. Levi: If you say so-.. our last house was massive, but we had to move. Jude: Why? Levi: None of your business! Jude: Alright, geez. [Jacob rolled his eyes, wondering why Robin had even gone to the trouble of bringing Levi over] … Jude: Did you get it?! Ivan: It ain’t that quick, bud! We’ll see. Oscar: How you doing, Levi? Levi: Uh, yeah.. I’m great! Robin: Can he come over? Levi: Wai-… Oscar: Sure. Robin: You wouldn’t rather be stuck with your sister all day, would you? [Levi squinted at Robin and his irksome brazenness, but he merely gazed back at him calmly-.. he knew he wasn’t wrong] Jacob: He better not make a habit of inviting Levi to hang out with us all summer. Jude: Maybe he just feels bad for him. He did almost die. Jacob: Only almost.
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4unnyr0se · 13 hours
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pookie pls can you write for gojo where reader and him are coworkers at jujutsu high and have a dynamic similar to utahime and gojo? and like yaga is always making them work together even tho they don’t like eachother, but Gojo lowkey gets off on reader being annoyed at him so there is *tension*? 🥺🥺🥺
❥ whole lotta attitude | satoru gojo
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warnings: enemies to lovers, gojo is a dickhead but it's okay because he's gojo, fem! reader, unprotected sex, office sex (im a slut for office sex), multiple orgasms, wall sex, roughness, one hickey, spanking, oral sex (m! receiving), making out, filthy filthy words are spoken, hella sexual tension, reader hates gojo but gojo loooooves her, gojo gets slapped once, degrading, praise, hair pulling, hate(?) sex, gojo texts like a super senior, a little bit of a textfic but not rlly, fluff at the end
MDNI | 18+ content
word count -> 3.6k
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Jujutsu High was quiet today. That wasn’t unusual because most of the students were either out on missions or in Shokos’ office experiencing whatever the hell she called “medicine.” The quiet was nice, strangely calming, and reassuring. Being a jujutsu sorcerer yourself, calm was a foreign feeling. The cool breeze blew your hair softly in the wind, the songbirds tweeting a melody that was most becoming on this quiet say. You took a deep breath in as you leaned against a wooden pole, admiring how clear the sky was. Everything was simply perfect. If tomorrow was your last day alive, today would be the most wonderful send-off.
“Hey there princess! I missed you!” 
And just like that, there was no more peace. No more tranquility, no more sing-song bird crap. There’s only Satoru Gojo and his humongous ego that crushes anyone within a 50-foot radius. 
His deep voice was laced with a sickly sweet playful tone that made you want to grab his collar and punch him right in his perfect nose. God, you fucking hated him. He was the bane of your existence with his smug attitude and that stupid infinity that he only turned off when you were around. Did he seriously think you were that weak, and he didn’t even need to use infinity because he could defeat you within a millisecond? Stupid fucking handsome bastard, you hated him with every fiber of your being. 
“What, you’re ignoring me now? Don’t be like that, it’s not nice!” Gojo laughed and practically teleported to where you were sitting, his eyes no doubt sparkling under that black blindfold he always wore. 
You groaned and rolled your eyes, crossing your arms and looking away from the smug bastard. “Fuck off, Gojo. I was having a perfectly peaceful afternoon before your very existence ruined it for me.” You pinched your temple with your index finger and thumb, rubbing the stressed skin. “I was calm for once in my damn life. You really do have a talent for making me wish I was six feet under.”
Gojo playfully pouted and shifted himself to your other side, taking your hand off your temple. He cradled it with his own, royally pissing you off in the process. “Why are you always so grumpy all the time, huh? Is it because your students are always out on missions instead of keeping little ol’ your company?” He mocked slightly, letting go of your hand. His blue eyes sparkled beneath his blindfold, filled with mischief. “I could keep your company, you know that right? Or is Little Miss Grumpy Pants too high and mighty to give me a shot?”
“I would literally rather make out with Jogo than spend more time with you than I’m legally required.”
“Ouch, that hurt.”
“Too bad, so sad.” You smirked, shoving him away. If anyone else had seen that they would have been shocked. The mighty Satoru Gojo, pushed to the ground by a grade two sorcerer. You rose up from the wooden desk and dusted yourself off, walking away as quickly as you could in your tennis shoes.
“I always look forward to these meetings you know!” Gojo yelled at you in the distance only to see the faintest image of your middle finger wiggling at him. Gojo smirked and put down the hem of his blindfold, his hair returning to its usual upright position. 
You stormed back into your office and locked the door shut, sliding down against the mahogany doorframe in exhaustion. How was it possible that just being in his presence absolutely drained you of all resolve? Was he really that strong, or was he just super fucking annoying? You had no idea, no one ever had any idea when it came to Satoru Gojo. 
The beautiful day finally came to an end and you got back to your apartment, collapsing onto your couch. Most jujutsu sorcerers had house provided to them by their clans, but that was not your case. Your neighbors thought you were a teacher at some religious school deep in the country side. It was the best excuse you could come up with for being gone for practically days at a time. Maybe the only bus to the train station broke down or something, any old excuse like that in order to keep the nosy (and mostly elderly) fellow tennents off your back.
“Fuck my life…” You groaned, placing your head in your hands as you stumbled over to your cozy bedroom, it’s warm environment almost giving you a hug in its own way. You slipped into your pajamas and curled up under the covers, setting your alarm on your phone for the next morning. Just as you were about to close your eyes, your phone started to buzz. At first it was just a single vibration, probably a text from your mother or something. But the buzzes and vibrations kept coming until your phone was practically moving itself off the bed.
You groaned in annoyance and turned over, checking the notification center to see who the hell had the nerve to text you nine times in a row. And sure enough, sporting the contact photo of a .5 that he took of himself when he stole your phone that one time, Satoru fucking Gojo had spam texted you at 11:41PM.
“What the actual hell?” You whispered, unlocking your phone to see what could possibly be this important. Nothing was ever this important past 10PM, not even if your apartment building was on fucking fire.
The messages plagued your screen, his smirking face in the contact photo made you even more angry. And yet a faint blush found itself creeping up against your face. Maybe it was the sheer excitement of a man texting you at night, or maybe deep down you actually liked Gojo. You smacked yourself lightly on the cheek, trying to erase that thought from your sleep-ridden mind.
Worst person alive: heyyyy
Worst person alive: r u up???
Worst person alive: theres no way u actually went to bed, omg ur such a grandma
Worst person alive: im bored talk to me
Worst person alive: megumi wont answer my texts :(( i think he hates me
Worst person alive: i know ur awake, u were active three minutes ago on insta
Worst person alive: ik u blocked me on their but jokes on u i have 5 other accounts
Worst person alive: pls pls pls pls talk to me im dying over here princess
Worst person alive: btw yaga assigned us on a mission tmrw mwah
Your eyed widened at the last message, your hands gripped the phone with white-knuckle strength. “Fucker!” You yelled, turning off your phone before melting under the covers. Why did Yaga have to do this to you? You and Gojo together was torture enough, but now you had to do actual work with each other? Gojo was grossly incompetent at anything that didn’t involve exorcising cursed spirits. 
You sighed and closed your eyes, silently praying that a curse would somehow break into your bedroom and murder you right then and there. But unfortuanly, you woke up to your alarm blaring in your ear the next morning.
Gojo and yourself were sat in Yaga’s office, Gojo smirking at you the entire time. You blushed under his gaze, hands gripping the edges of your seat as you waited for Yaga to tell you what the assignment was. Was Yaga being late on purpose just to mess with you? Did you manage to piss him off somehow? A million questions were flying through your mind and there was no answer in sight. 
“I saw you read my messages princess.” Gojo finally spoke, leaning forward. He was significantly taller over you, his towering muscular frame intimating you. “Why didn’t you respond? I was really bored. It’s rude to ignore your friends.” He spoke, that same sticky and syrupy voice coming back to haunt you.
“Maybe that’s because we aren’t friends, Gojo.” You scoffed, flipping your hair behind your back. “Could you please just shut up until Yaga gets here? If I have to listen to you mock me again I might actually explode.” Sighing, you placed your face in your hands.
“Actually,” Gojo purred, getting up from his seat only to sit down in Yaga’s velvet office chair. “Yaga doesn’t have a mission for us, princess.” He kicked his feet up on the desk, taking off his blindfold. His snowy white hair fell into a beautiful mess, with his painfully gorgeous blue eyes lighting up his already hellishly handsome face.
You looked up from your hands to raise an eyebrow, your face immediately turning a bright red upon seeing Gojo without his signature blindfold. “I’m sorry, what? I don’t follow.”
Gojo tutted and threw the black fabric onto your lap, his eyes still staring at your blushing face. Gojo found it simply adorable how you would always get so flustered, so annoyed in his presence. How you would always deny being attracted to him, how you swore up and down that he was put on this Earth to make your life a living hell. But he noticed that you would always squeeze your thighs together when he spoke. It was precious, really. How you thought you could hide your painfully obvious desire for him.
“Ae you hard of hearing or something, princess?” Gojo purred, leaning forward to he could grab onto the collar of your navy blue work uniform. With just a snap of his wrists his face was mere centimeters away from your own, the tips of your noses were pressed up against each other so perfectly. You felt your breathing quicken, the atmosphere in Yaga’s office so thick you could cut it with a butter knife. “I said that Yaga never gave us a fucking mission. I just wanted to see you again.” He breathed out, his steaming air causing the hair on the back of your neck to stand up. His grip on your collar tighten, his eyes were filled with desire. Desire for you that’s long overdue to be broken.
Your brows furrowed at you gripped onto his wrist, trying your best to pry his hand away from your uniform collar. Twisting and turning his wrist every which way turned out ot be fruitless, causing you to grow ever more angry and flustered. Fuck Gojo and his superhuman abilities, fuck him for being the strongest. 
Instead, your hand came flying at his face. Your palm collided with his flesh, the cold stinging sensation snapping Gojo out of his lustful trance. His spare hand crept onto his cheek, rubbing the mark softly. You gulped, nervous to see how the strongest jujutsu sorcerer would react to getting slapped across the face by a grade two. 
He smirked and threw his head back slightly, a dark chuckle emitting from his throat. He looked back down at you, his grip on your collar so strong that you started to choke. “God, I was hoping you would fucking do that.” 
In an instant his lips were on yours, roughly clashing against each other. It took every fiber of his being to not rip all your clothes off right then and there, to bend you over Yaga’s desk and fuck you senseless. Oh how long Gojo had waited to feel your plump lips being ravaged by his own, and how deliciously rewarding it was to play the long game. Finally your lips were melding perfectly with each other, his tongue picking up just the faintest taste of peach chapstick. 
Gojo pulled away from the kiss after about a minute, a thick strand of saliva connecting your lips. He sighed in pleasue as his eye landed on your flustered face, your mouth still agape like a slut.
“So fucking pretty like this,” he muttered, stepping out from behind the desk. He pulled you out of your chair and trapped you against the wall, his muscular torso being so easily felt under the think fabric of the uniforms the school provided. “Been wanting to kiss you since forever, y’know.” He mumbled, dragging his callosued hands up and down the clothed snatches of your wasit. “Your lips taste even better than I imaged, sweetness.”
You blushed at his sultry words, the faint glim in his ocean blue eyes only making your knees evern weaker. Slowly but carefully, your arms wrapped themselves around his broad shoulders. “You’re still on my shitlist,” you muttered, standing on the tips of your toes to meet his eyeline.
“And you’re as stubborn as ever, princess.” Gojo purred picking you up by the bottoms of your thighs, Your legs wrapped instinctively around his waist, making it look like a scene straight out of a movie. “Such a pretty mouth, you gonna let me fuck it?” He whispered, rubbing circled on your bare thighs. The modest jujutsu skirt you wore covered your legs quite nicely, so you never really felt the need to wear tights. And that drove Gojo fucking wild.
“Depends, what’s in it for me?” You smirked, tugging lightly on the baby hairs at the back of his head. Gojo hissed in pleasure, kind of proud that you were being equally as bratty to him as he was to you. 
“The best fuck you’ll ever get, plus some more.” Gojo let go of your thighs, letting you drop onto your knees. You looked up at him, gulping in anticipation as you saw the imprint of his throbbing erection covered by his pants. “You gotta get me prepared first, princess. Or else I might not fuck that pussy as good, got it?” His voice was dripping with desire for you as his expert hands pulled down his pants, tossing them aside along with his boxers. His cock tapped against his shirt, leaving the smallest precum stain.
You bit down on your lip at the sight of his cock, moving yourself foreward. Ever so carefully, your right hand gripping onto the base of his cock. Tongue falling out of your mouth, you took his cock in your wet cavern slowly, your cheeks hollowing out to accommodate his girth and length.
“Shit princess, just like that. Yeah, I knew you would be good at suckin’ dick.” Gojo praised, offering you a slanted smile as your hands stroked what your mouth couldn’t fit. His large hand tangled itself into your messy hair, tugging on the roots ever so gently. His hips bucked into your mouth ever so slowly, almost painfully slow. He treated you like you were so fragile, sharp contrast to when he had you pinned against the wall with his tongue shoved down your throat.
He groaned in pleasure as his cock his the back of his throat, his hips driving his member down your throat even faster. His grip on your hair tighten, causing a small pool of tears to well in the corner of your eye. A singular droplet ran down your pretty little face, which Gojo thought was just the cutest little thing.
“Oh, is my princess crying? What, my dick to big for your slutty little mouth?” His hips stopped snapping into your face, pulling your mouth off of his member slowly. “Well, if you can’t handle my dick in your mouth,” He grabbed your arm, throwing you against the desk. His pushed you down so your face was against the hard mahogany wood, with your ass up and on display for Gojo to smack. “Then maybe your pretty pussy will be able to handle me, hm?”
He shoved your skirt above your ass, the blue material bunching the divet in your waist. His hand ran over your soaked panties, shoving them aside to expose your soaked core to the cold office air. “So pretty f’me…” Gojo mumbled, gathering up some of your slick on his thumb and popping it inside of his mouth. “Delicious too, maybe you’ll be my dinner one day. Wouldn’t you like that, princess?” He teased, his hand cracking against the supple flesh of your perfect ass.
“Fuck!” you cried out, your hands gripping onto the wooden desk for dear life. You grew increasingly frustrated, especially knowing that Gojo was taking immense pleasure in making you wait tt get fucked. “Dammit Gojo, just fuck me already!” You demanded, your eyes being slightly covered by your mess of hair falling in front of them. 
He smacked his hand across your ass again, alighting his cock with your sobbing entrance. “You sure got a whole lotta attitude, princess.” He purred, teasing your hole with his mushroom head. “I’ll be sure to fuck it outta you, don’t you worry your pretty little head.”
He shoved his cock inside of you, hissing as your tight walls enveloped his member. You cried out in both pain and pleasure, having never experienced someone as big or as girthy inside of you. Sure, you had slept around before but this time he might actually make you cum. You wouldn’t have to fake an orgasm just for it to end.
“Shit, Gojo!” You screamed, lifting your head up from the desk to meet his gaze from behind. “Y-you’re too fuckin’ big, you know that?”
Gojo smirked and started to slowly thrust himself in and out of your weeping cunt, the sound of his groans mixing with your moans of pleasure filling the chilly office. “God, you’re so fuckin’ tight. Squeezing me already, princess? Good fuckin’ slut.” He grunted, pulling your hair back so your neck was against his mouth. His hips were now snapping furiously at your ass, his balls clapping against the skin. “You won’t mind if I give you a little mark, right? Gotta make sure you remember being bent over like this, pretty thing.”
His sharp teeth bit down onto your neck, sucking a nasty purple circle right where your jugular would be. The stimulation was utterly overwhelming, your mouth was agape and your throat was starting to hurt from all your cries. “Fuck, such a good slut for me.”
Gojo’s rough and callosued hands reached under your top to grope one of your tits, his fingers pinching and rubbing your nipple under the thin fabric. He could feel your orgasm was fast approaching the way you squeezed onto his cock, almost like your body was trying to suck him in even deeper inside of you. “Gojo, fuck! T-Too fucking handsy!” You managed to moan out, your brain slowly starting to turn to mush as the coil in your belly threatened to snap at any minte. “Fuck, gonna fucking cum!”
Gojo smirked and smacked your ass once more, slipping his hand from behind you to rub on your sensitive clit. “Cum all over this cock baby, f-fuck. Be a good fucking girl.” He demanded in your ear, his fingers now furiously rubbing themselves on your clit while his cock hit every place it needed to.
With a wanton gasp you threw your head back onto his shoulders, your orgasm washing over you like tsunami or a tidal wave. Wave after wave of pure bliss crashed over your every nerve, your eyes feeling fuzzy as you swore you could see stars.
“Fuck, holy fuck! Gojo, oh my fucking God!” you sobbed, your bottom lip trembling as you came down from your high. Gojo sighed and began to kiss your neck gently, his thrusts becoming faster and desperate as he felt his own euphoria approaching.
“Shit, gonna cum princess. Lemme cum inside of you, yeah? God you’re so fucking warm and tight, fuck!” He moaned into your neck, the movement of his hips becoming staggering and sloppy as his hot ropes of sticky cum coated your insides, filling you up so nicely. “F-fuck, oh my god…”
Gojo pulled out of you, smirking to himself as he saw his cum leak from your sloppy pussy. “Fucking amazing, princess.” He bent down to pick up his boxers and pants, putting them on quickly. 
You got up from leaning over the desk and turned around, your face flushed and your hair sticking to your sweaty forehead. Your hands still gripping onto the table, your pretty lips slightly agape. “Holy shit…I think that was the best sex I’ve ever fucking had.” You breathed out, brushing the sweaty babyhairs out of your face.
Gojo smiled and bent down slightly, kissing your nose with a gentleness that was the complete opposite of how he fucked you. “I’ve been wanting to do that sicne I met you, you know.” 
You scoffed and rolled your eyes, adjusting your stretched-out shirt collar. “Stop lying, you already fucked me. No need to lie anymore, Gojo.”
He frowned and grabbed onto your hand, his thumb carefully rubbing onto the back of it. “I’m not lying, you know.”
Raising an eyebrow you looked into his blue eyes, curious as to why there wasn’t a hint of deception swirling around in his oceans of blue. “Gojo…are you being serious?” You whispered, a blush once again covering your face. It wasn’t a blush of desire but a blush of shyness, like you were sixteen years old and just got confessed to.
“Satoru,” he spoke, bringing your hand to cup his pale face. “Call me Satoru, please.”
You smiled and rolled your eyes once more, your hand gently petting his flushed face. You took a step towards him, allowing Gojo to wrap his other hand around your waist. You two held each other in Yaga’s office, the scent of sex and passionate still filling up the otherwise stiff air.
“What are you gonna call me then, Satoru?” You softly spoke, standing on the tips of your toes so your lips were hovering against his once more. Gojo offered you a gentle smile, pecking your lips tenderly.
“I’m gonna call you mine.”
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writtenjewels · 3 days
Text
One Bed night 3
Night One, Night Two
This time, it was Salim who woke first. He found Jason asleep, his fingers having loosened their grip on Salim's shirt, his head tilted toward Salim's fingers. Salim's heart beat a little faster noticing their closeness. Warmth swelled deep in his body. His eyes flicked to the freckles scattered on Jason's cheeks. His fingers twitched as he fought the impulse to touch—hair, cheek, hand, anywhere. Salim let out a breath and pulled away. He would claim the first shower this morning and be rid of the bulge pressing against his crotch.
Salim felt much calmer when he exited the bathroom. He found Jason awake and waiting his turn. The young marine's half-asleep expression shifted to something more alert. Salim suddenly wished he hadn't chosen to walk out of the bathroom in just his underwear. He didn't give his middle-aged, hairy body much thought, but after seeing the more lean and hairless Jason, he couldn't help the sudden attack of self-consciousness.
“Mornin',” Jason drawled. “You wanna head to breakfast together?”
“Sure,” Salim agreed. He padded over to get dressed while Jason showered. He wished there could be some balance between how casual and easy it could feel between them, and how tense and awkward.
They spent the day on tours again, only they experienced all the tours together. Salim had discovered yesterday that touring was a lot like how Jason described drinking: not as fun alone. Besides that, Jason usually whispered a funny remark during the tours. It added a bit of playful energy to everywhere they went. They ate lunch and dinner together, chatting and teasing each other the whole time.
After dinner, they strolled past shops. Now and then they paused to look at what was in the display windows before moving on. They eventually found their way to a bar. Salim remembered suggesting they have drinks tonight. He wasn't surprised Jason was going to make him see that promise through.
Inside, the atmosphere was a little loud with televisions going. Salim pointed to a table away from all the noise.
“You sure you're okay with this?” Jason asked once they sat. “It ain't haram or whatever?” Salim's eyebrows shot up; he had talked about halal and haram with Jason over breakfast, but didn't expect the man to remember.
“I think Allah will forgive me having one drink with a friend,” he responded. “What game is that?” He nodded to the televisions meaningfully.
“Basketball,” Jason told him after a quick glance. “It' ain't really my thing.”
“Yes, I remember. Something about a Super Bowl?” Salim smiled at the memory. He, of course, hadn't understood a word Jason said at the time. It sounded good, and Jason seemed so pleased, so the gleeful energy had rubbed off. Jason met his smile; the gleam in his eyes assured he was remembering, too.
A waiter came by and took their very simple order of two beers. They were given bottles within minutes.
“Cheers.” Jason lifted his bottle.
“Cheers,” Salim echoed, and they tapped before taking a swallow. Salim tried not to immediately cough his out. “Ugh, it's been a very long time since I drank.”
“No hoppin' through single bars, huh?” Jason teased.
“I don't think we have those in my town. I wasn't ready to find out.” Salim took another small sip. Jason mimicked him and the two fell silent, listening to the game and the chatter around them. “So, did you, ah... hop single bars?” Salim asked after a moment.
“Nope.” Jason shifted a little on his seat. His eyes flicked briefly to Salim, then dropped to the table. “Weren't any I liked.”
“Do you like this one?”
Jason's eyes flicked up again and he shrugged. “So far.”
Eventually the conversation moved on to other things. They finished their beers and spent a few minutes watching the game. Or rather, Salim stared at the screen listening to Jason explain what was happening. It might not have been his thing, but he still understood it far better than Salim.
They made it back to their room, where Jason went to the bathroom first to brush his teeth while Salim got undressed. An unexpected heaviness weighed down when he thought of them only spending one more night together. The experience was so much better than he could have anticipated.
“Hey.” Jason's head poked out of the bathroom. “You gonna wear one of those dumb pun shirts?”
“I thought you liked my pun shirts,” Salim retorted, turning to face the younger man. He was much less conscious of his bare chest than this morning.
“I do.” Jason flashed a smile. “It's why I asked.”
“Which one's your favorite?” Jason took a moment to answer. Salim found his eyes gravitating to the dog-tags resting against Jason's bare skin.
“The omelette.” Jason's answer snapped Salim out of his daze.
They switched so Salim could use the bathroom. He stepped out and found Jason already under the sheets. Something about that made Salim feel warm all over. He went over to check the air conditioning to make sure the settings were okay. They looked fine, so he went around to his side of the bed and got in.
“Nice shirt,” Jason noted.
“You said you liked it,” Salim reminded him. Jason just smiled. That air conditioning couldn't be working, because Salim was still warm. “That ball game was interesting,” Salim spoke up. “I didn't think American balls were round.”
“You see many American balls?” Jason asked. The way he dipped his voice sounded almost suggestive.
“There's what you call a football,” Salim pointed out. “It's not round.”
“I don't think you can judge our balls from just one.” There was that tone in Jason's voice again.
“I feel like you're messing with me, but I can't figure out how.”
“Give it time.” Jason looked like he was fighting not to laugh. “It'll come to ya.” Salim frowned at him while Jason kept grinning. There was a playful brightness in his eyes that Salim recognized from the other times he teased Salim.
Salim ran through their conversation in his head again. Oh. His mouth dropped open and his eyes widened. Jason snickered.
“That,” Salim declared, “was an awful joke.” He pointed to the words on his shirt. “Omelette that slide.” Jason laughed, leaning forward just enough to let his tags dangle in the space between them.
“You always been such a dork?”
“Probably.” Salim reached out to catch the tags between his fingers. “But I think you like it.”
“Probably,” Jason nodded. They sat there for a few heartbeats. There was a charged energy in the space. Salim broke it by releasing the tags. He reclined on the mattress, Jason following a moment later. The silence continued stretching on. Salim knew Jason had to be hearing his thoughts, but the marine didn't say so.
After a while Jason wiggled a bit and propped his arm on the pillow just above Salim's head. His fingertips lightly brushed against Salim's hair. Salim swallowed; he had unconsciously done the same last night. He closed his eyes and let himself feel it all.
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1starqi · 2 days
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Chicken Scratch
(Part 2: Call On Silent) (Part 3: Easy Talking) (Part 4: Over The Moon) (Part 5: No Messing Up) (Part 6: Can We Talk?)
genre: fluff, college!au
pairing: student!markxbarista!o/c (this one can also be treated as xreader)
summary: where you give a cute guy your number on his coffee
wc: ~500
note: finally finished one, even if it's short!! I have another WIP that's currently 3k words. yikes.
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“Love so good feels like a thriller…” You mumble along to the lyrics of the music on the overhead speakers. The stained muslin rag in your hands feels icky from the day of use, and all you can think about is getting home to your warm, clean bed. It’s 5:23 and your shift is almost over at the café owned by your best friend.
The door chime at the front of the open room chirps happily and you force your shoulders not to slump. The cardinal red halter of your apron is digging into the spots between your neck and shoulders.
“Hello, welcome.” Damn it, you already messed up your intro. “What can I get for you?” You chant your greeting as you look up. It’s a guy you’ve seen a couple of times around your college. You run the same circles, too, and you can’t lie, he’s cute. He’s tall—maybe a couple of inches taller than you—and his face is nice. He has deep, dark eyes, and a contrasting face of sharp edges and a soft smile. You blink the thought of his pretty face away so you can do your job of making him whatever drink he’s getting at 5 pm.
“Can I get a single espresso americano, please?” His request is simple, though unusual for not the morning. He sounds tired. 
“Late night, huh?” You comment, offhandedly. You don’t know why you make small talk—It’s usually a nightmare for you. “What’s the name for the order?” You raise your eyebrows slightly at the man, anxious for the answer so you don’t have to pretend to not be checking him out.
“Mark Lee.” He tells you, even though you already know. You turn fast on your heel to make the two milkshakes for the mother-daughter duo in the front of the queue. When you get to his order, your hand grips the cold metal espresso machine as it splashes against the hot water in the cup. You press your tongue between your lips and drag the Sharpie along the cup. You write the M, the A, the R, and the K as carefully as possible so your handwriting doesn’t look like chicken scratch. Before you put the cup down on the pick-up counter, another idea jumps into your head. The Sharpie is suddenly back in your hand. You see your phone number staring back at you below his name. He’s always been a sort of evolved hallway crush of yours. Some of his friends are your friends, and sometimes you see him around campus. It just felt so natural to shoot your shot—is that a sign?
You gently place the coffee on the counter. “Mark Lee?” You keep an eye on him as he walks up and picks up the coffee. You can see the blush beginning to form on his ears as he reads the writing on his coffee. As you wait for him to walk out, he gives you a slight nod. Oh my gosh, he took it.
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vodika-vibes · 14 hours
Text
The Brotherhood - Stat Wars AU
Summary: Misfit is kicked from the 501st and barred from joining Rex with the 332nd. Though, he was warned that this would happen.
Characters: Clone OC - Misfit, ARC Trooper Fives, Clone Trooper Tup, Clone Trooper Dogma, Commander Fox, Captain Rex, ARC Trooper Jesse (mentioned)
Word Count: 764
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“I know you're not thrilled, Misfit-” Rex says slowly as he looks at his, very unimpressed, little brother, “But this might be a good thing.”
Misfit pulls a cigarette out of his jumpsuit pocket and slips it between his lips, though he doesn't light it just yet, “A good thing, huh?”
“You're not made for military life, vod. You've been miserable since the war started-”
“-so you're ditching me.” Misfit replies, finally pulling his lighter from his pocket and lighting the stick hanging from his lips.
“I…wish you wouldn't say it like that.”
“Oh? Is there a nicer way to phrase it?” Misfit asks sarcastically as he flicks an unkempt curl off his forehead.
“Misfit, vod,” Rex sighs, “You haven't exactly made any friends over the years. You convinced Barriss Offee to leave the order.”
“I convinced her that terrorism wasn't going to prove her point.” Misfit corrects as he blows some smoke out the side of his mouth, “Her leaving the order was just the next best thing.”
Rex is quiet for a long time, “Ahsoka tried to have you transferred to her, but the Admiral decided that you're a liability. Your drug use is rather well known at this point.” He shakes his head, “I'm sorry, vod. But there's no longer a choice. Maybe…maybe you should talk to the jedi about rehab.”
Misfit flicks some ash off his cigarette, “I'd sooner eat my blaster.” There's a shout from the doorway, and Misfit turns his cold gaze to his older brother, “Better get going, Commander.” Somehow, the rank sounds like an insult.
Rex lingers for a moment, and then he turns away, “Don't do anything drastic, Misfit. We'll talk when I get back, maybe get you sent to the 212th.”
“I won't hold my breath.” Misfit leaves before Rex reaches the door, and Rex's shoulders slump as he walks over to Jesse, who sympathetically claps him on the shoulder. 
Misfit walks through the clone Barracks, breezing past his brothers, content with them ignoring him. He turns down a side hall, goes down a flight of stairs, and kicks open a swinging door that leads to a darkened, musty smelling hallway.
The hallway leads to one place, a large room that's been ignored for years. Well, officially at least.
Misfit reaches the door and keys in the code that he was given earlier that day. The door slides open and Misfit steps into a well lit and clean smelling room.
“Do you have to smoke that in here?” Fives asks from where he's flipping a blade between his fingers.
“It's this or I throw myself off the roof, take your pick, vod.” Misfit replies.
“Put it out, Misfit.” Fox orders from where he's scanning a datapad, “I'm guessing you're here because you've been kicked out of the 501st.”
“And the 332nd.” Misfit confirms as he puts his cigarette out in the convenient ashtray. “Just like you said.”
“I'm sure it wasn't personal,” Tup says from where he's examining the blade attached to his wrist. “You know what Rex is like.”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Misfit tucks his cigarette behind his ear, and drops into a chair next to Dogma, “Anyway, why am I here with three vod'e who are supposed to be dead?”
Fox smirks and drops a strange looking blade on the table in front of Misfit. It straps to the inside of his wrists, and a sharp blade pops out from the hilt as he flexes his wrist. “This is a hidden blade,” Fox explains, “perfect for assassinations.”
“Will you finally tell us what you're planning?” Dogma asks.
Fox drops in a seat, a small smirk on his face, “I'm making an assassination squad. The four of you were chosen because all four of you are quiet in the Force. According to Vos, you're force quiet.”
“Meaning?” Tup asks.
“You're force sensitive enough that other force sensitives can't detect you.” Fox leans forward, “I'm sure you can tell that there are a lot of people in the galaxy who deserve to die. People we can't touch. That's what you four are for.”
“You want us to be your personal assassins?” Fives asks.
“No, I am going to be completely hands off from here on out. You'll do your own research, gather your own evidence. Your targets are your choice.” Fox says, “Fives will be in charge.”
Fives pauses and a dark smirk crosses his face, “Palpatine will be our first target.” He leans over the table as Fox leaves the room, “Welcome to the Assassin's Brotherhood.” Fives almost purrs, as he drops a map of the senate on the table, “We're going to save everyone.”
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wyvnspng · 2 days
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Mum said it’s my turn on the writing.
Ty to my good friend @cleminthewriter for beta reading
Also posted to ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56113669
Theo pulled his jacket closer to his body in hopes of warming himself up ever so slightly. Predictably, the soaked fabric did little to fend off the cold.
He eyed his best friend, Archie, who was stumbling around, the single umbrella that was supposed to be shared between them both was protecting them from the rain.
“..so they bring around their dog, which was massive! A uh- Idunno the breed, but it was fluffy and white. Anyway, they get the dog to uh, I guess to intimidate us? But the dog was a total sweetheart, we got to pet it.” He finished, and laughed. Theo laughed alongside them.
“Bet Jess found that to be great fun? You should invite her over sometime, I heard she’s learning how to play the piano.” Theo added, glancing at his friend's shoes, which were soaked with mud from where they’d jumped into all the puddles they’d come across.
Archie, expectedly, agreed. They always enjoyed the opportunity to hang out with his two favourite people (both his sister and his best friend!)
Theo shivered at both the cold and the uncomfortable sensation of being soaked by the rain. Luckily, they weren’t too far from their shared apartment, which was probably the biggest reason why they weren’t asking Archie to share the umbrella. He looked down the dark street, illuminated only by the dull light from whatever street lights were still working. It was an eerie sight, and made him want to hurry his pace slightly.
He didn’t, though, because then he’d be leaving Archie behind. He brushed off the mild fear he felt and remained by their side. Archie had run out of things to talk about, and the atmosphere had fallen into a calm silence, which was only broken by the sound of the rain, the buzzing of streetlights, and their own footsteps.
They walked together for a while, enjoying the simple silence, the long day out having sapped them of their energy. Theo was excited to get home and change into some clean and dry clothes before curling up into the warmth of his bed and drifting off into a cosy slumber.
His thoughts were interrupted by a dull crash and a groan, which came from the street obscured by the corner of a building. Archie also noticed, judging by how their head turned toward the sound. Thankfully, he didn’t say anything.
Peeking around the building, Theo managed to make out a familiar face. Curious, he made his way over, and offered a hand so they could get off of the floor.
“Alex! It’s been a while! How’ve you been?” He greeted his old acquaintance, who accepted the hand and got up from where they had clearly slipped and fallen over. Archie approached the two, also curious about what’s going on.
“Oh uh-“ They nervously looked off to the side. “It really has been, huh? It’s been good I suppose- I’ve been quite busy these days.” Theo glanced to the side, where Alex kept looking, and could briefly make out some weird lights that disappeared as soon as his brain registered them. He must be more tired than he thought.
Looking back at Alex, he could hear Archie speak up from behind him. “Oh yeah! I saw your wanted poster!” They giggled, and Alex looked at them nervously. “What’d you do anyway? I never took you to be the type to break the law and evade arrest!”
Alex lowered their head, and nervously fiddled with the corner of their wet jacket. “Oh, not much, just- yknow- the usual.” Theo did, infact, not know. However, he did know that Alex was acting very out of character here. They’d done lots of weird and potentially dangerous stuff back in highschool, a lot of which Theo had been there to witness, and they had never acted this nervous. They must have done something really bad.
Archie didn’t pick up on this, and continued. “Wow! Did you steal something?” Alex opened their mouth to reply, but Archie gasped and added more on before they could. “Did you kill someone? I didn’t think you’d have it in you to do something like that!”
Immediately, Alex did not look as nervous. “What? Why would I kill someone?” Archie just shrugged in response.
“You never know with this stuff! Even the nicest people can kill if they find a reason!” Alex just frowned.
“Well, I didn’t kill anyone.” They glanced to the side again, and wiped down their front, as if trying to get rid of the water.
Archie opened their mouth to say something, but Theo cut him off before they unintentionally caused offence. “Is everything alright? You aren’t, like, starving on the streets or anything, right?” Alex just shrugged.
“I’m doing alright. It’s sort of complicated, I guess.” They took a few steps backward. “Speaking of, I should get going. I have stuff to do.” Alex didn’t wait for a response before sprinting down the street.
Theo briefly considered running after them, but decided against it. Whatever they were doing, it was probably best that they stayed out of it, lest their faces also end up on wanted posters.
A quiet thump, followed by some louder scratching sounds, came from the alley that Alex had been staring at, causing both Theo and Archie to flinch. Theo, being braver than Archie, made his way over and lit the alley up with the small flashlight he carried around. There was nothing of interest in the alley, except for large scratches that went up the wall.
Theo shivered, and Archie let out a shaky breath from behind him. There was definitely something in here, and whatever it was is gone. Whether that’s a good or bad thing is something only time will tell.
Still a little shaken up, Theo and Archie make their way back to their shared apartment as fast as possible. It’s only when they’ve returned home, and Theo is taking a warm shower, does he think back to that alley and consider that Alex was aware that something was in it.
Theo can only hope that whatever that thing was won’t hurt Alex.
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Hiii, I was wondering if you would be able to write this request I have. So, it's a platonic Diluc and child reader, where Diluc takes in a child, and despite his best attempts not to, he grows attached to them, and decides to train them, in order to help them keep themself safe, however, one day, he pushes them too far and accidentally scratches them with his sword during their training, causing them to run away.
Please add comfort at the end, I can't handle all angst no comfort/j!
yeah, i kinda took this and ran… child readers are difficult for me to write but i think this one came out okay! im considering making a part two!
warning for diluc + kaeya backstory, but it’s vague mentions~
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The stray kid lurking around the winery had blue hair.
Diluc was suspicious, at first. But when he caught them just trying to take a few apples, nothing more - he offered them a place to stay without thinking about it. They were a child, how much of a threat could they be?
That’s what they thought about Kaeya.
Still. He had made up his mind. They were allowed to stay.
They were skittish for the first few days, and Diluc didn’t know what to do to help them be more at home. He made sure they had food and clothing, and were able to roam freely, but he wanted to be able to talk to them.
Unfortunately, he only had one idea of where to go.
“Kaeya.”
“Master Diluc,” Kaeya greeted, and Diluc clenched his teeth at the title. “Whatever is troubling you?”
“I haven’t even said anything yet.”
“You’re talking to me unprompted, so something must be wrong.”
Diluc sighed, then lowered his voice. “When you—“ he hesitated. Kaeya raised an eyebrow. “When you were adopted, what was the thing that made you the most comfortable?”
“…what?”
Diluc scowled and straightened up. “Never mind. It was a stupid question—“
Kaeya made a sharp gesture, and Diluc shut his mouth. Kaeya turned his face away for a moment, then said softly, “Being allowed to have my own space, but offered a spot if I wanted it.” He paused. “Why are you asking this?”
“Our dear Diluc has a child,” Venti cut in, sing-songing, and Diluc went bright red while Kaeya started to laugh.
“You—?”
“They’re not mine. They showed up around the winery, I wasn’t going to let them starve,” Diluc snapped. “We shouldn’t be having this conversation in public.”
“I’m coming over.”
“Absolutely not. They need to get comfortable.”
Kaeya blinked. “Huh, that’s actually a good point. I’ll be over in a few weeks, then.”
Diluc still didn’t see much of them, between working at the bar and them hiding in their room for most of the day. Every evening, he extended the offer to eat at the table, and when they didn’t, he sent the meal to their room.
On the ninth day, he walked into the dining room to see them sitting at the table quietly. He paused in the doorway, briefly surprised. It had taken Kaeya a while longer to get fully comfortable.
They turned to him before he spoke, and quickly stood up from their chair. “Thank you for letting me stay here,” they said, stilted. It sounded rehearsed. “I’ll be leaving tonight or tomorrow so you don’t have to worry.”
Diluc’s eyebrows drew together. “Where are you going?” If it turned out they had parents somewhere…
They shrugged. “Wherever doesn’t mind me. Heard Mondstadt City is a good place for strays.”
Diluc frowned. “You can stay here. Aren’t you eight?”
“Twelve,” they corrected, scowling, “and I’m not dumb. Nobody wants me around for long.” Diluc hesitated for a moment too long, and they rolled their eyes. “Come on. Don’t act like it’s not true ‘cuz it feels mean. I don’t care.”
“You can stay here,” Diluc said firmly. “I can’t let a child go alone.”
They made a face. “Sure.” They started to leave the room, but Diluc stepped in front of them.
“Do you want to have dinner here?”
They hesitated.
“You don’t have to.”
“…Okay. I’ll eat here tonight.”
Two days after that, Diluc catches them admiring a claymore he had left out to polish.
When they saw him, they jumped. “Sorry—“ they started, but Diluc interrupted them.
“Do you know how to use a claymore?” He paused and glanced at their smaller form. “Or a sword?”
“No,” they said, “but once I saw someone with this really pretty sword, like how your claymore is so detailed, and I want to lear—” They stopped themself and bit their lip, watching his reaction.
“Do you want me to teach you?” It was good to learn self-defense, Diluc reasoned. Besides, it would be a good chance to bond with them.
They hesitated, then nodded.
“Tomorrow,” Diluc told them.
They picked up the techniques fast. It was only a few days before they could properly spar. Their small size and penchant for dirty tricks nearly made up for their lack of experience. They used fake weapons, of course, and Diluc fought Vision-less. It gave them an opportunity to learn to fight properly and it gave Diluc the chance to practice fighting without his Vision and to defend against tricks he wouldn’t expect. Both of them learned from each other.
One afternoon, clouds gathered quickly above the sparring ground. A raindrop landed on Diluc’s nose. “We should stop for today,” he said. “Fighting in the rain and mud is difficult.”
“I want to try,” [Name] protested. The rain came on quick, faster than Diluc thought it should. “It’ll be fun!”
“No,” Diluc said firmly, lowering his sword and stepping towards the building.
A flash of blue hair brightened the corner of his eye, and a wooden sword swung towards him. It had been years. They were younger than Kaeya had been. Diluc was older. But the rain, and the blue-
He swung before he thought, and they hit the ground. Thunder rumbled overhead, and tears welled in their eyes. Before Diluc could react, could apologize, they scrambled to their feet and ran.
Diluc put the wooden sword away and trekked into the rain. It came down in sheets, drenching him in minutes. Thunder rumbled overhead. “[Name]!” he called, struggling to be heard over the rain. “[Name]!”
The winery was large in of itself, even if [Name] had stayed on the land. They shouldn’t be out in this storm. Hopefully they hadn’t gone far.
Suddenly, a loud caw came from the trees. Diluc startled, put his foot down too hard, and promptly slipped and fell face first into the mud.
Giggling came from a bush nearby, heard even over the rain, and Diluc looked up to see [Name] quickly cover their mouth.
Diluc sighed. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Can you come inside so I can apologize properly, when I’m not covered in mud?”
They grinned. “No.”
Diluc pushed himself into a sitting position and tried to wipe some of the mud off of his coat and his face. The rain let up slightly, a lull in the storm. “I’m sorry that I swung without thinking,” he said. “That’s one of the things you learn not to do when you learn sword fighting.”
“Then why’d you do it?” [Name] frowned.
Diluc hesitated. “It… reminded me of something.”
“Of what?”
“I’ll tell you when you’re older,” Diluc said firmly, and [Name]’s frown deepened.
“I hate when grown ups say that.”
“I know,” Diluc said. [Name] shivered. Their clothes were soaked through. “Do you want to go inside to warm up?”
“Okay,” they agreed.
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pencicle · 2 years
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Why are we all blogging about revline and bisexual revenant what did I miss
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kittlyns · 24 days
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I had yet another long, strenuous day yesterday and didn't finish work until super late and then I couldn't fall asleep until well past 2am cuz I was in so much pain from standing literally all day
#what made it worse was the client I spent most of my day with was a brand new client. and she booked super last minute#so I wasnt mentally prepared for doing a 5 hour color. and her natural hair was already pretty light so I had to foil foil foil. go back.#pull out first couple foils. foil foil foil. go back. pull out the next few.#over and over and over.#and her hair was so fucking long. and so fucking thick.#and after the first hour she wouldn't talk. like I like my silence so I don't fight it much#but every now and then I would try to engage with her. I'd say something and she would straight up ignore me. no acknowledgment.#which makes me feel anxious cuz it's like jesus... does she hate me?? did I piss her off somehow?#even when I finished her hair (it looked fucking amazing no lie. one of my best highlights yet.) she had next to no reaction to it#she was like 'it looks fine. I mean good. it's good.' completely deadpan#I laughed it off and was like yeah it's been a long day girl! but it looks amazinggg on you!!#no response. deep inhale. alright.#whatever tho.#when I did finally get off work I stopped @ bojangles cuz I was lightheaded and hadn't eaten since morning#and when I tell you I almost broke down into tears cuz there were so many people crowding the goddamn pickup area.#and so many bizarre conversations going on. genuinely felt like I was in some form of hell#like my feet hurt. my back hurts. I'm tired. I didn't get the validation I like to have over a 5 hour transformative color.#I'm hungry and there are two elderly women blocking the pickup counter. one is hard of hearing so she keeps yelling HUH???#and the other only speaks in soft baby whispers. that goes as well as you can imagine.#there's a man behind me grilling an employee abt whether or not he goes to church. he starts witnessing to him#and the employee says 'I've never thought about it like that before' no less than 4 times.#there's a child in front of me playing tiktoks @ full volume. and this is all happening simultaneously.#I really considered just leaving without my food but I knew I needed to eat and didnt have anything at home so I stuck it out#was it worth it? no. bojangles honestly sucks these days but what's a girl gonna do.#got home and tried to pass out but nope. tossed and turned all night.#put on hot n cold patches to try to soothe the pain a little. didn't work cuz one pain would be eased a bit and another pain would take over#blahhhhhh#and now. I get to do it all over again! yippeeeeeee!!!!!!!!
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it's the 23rd... you know what that means...
Happy Ash Day!
#hehe it's my day! not too many special plans other than some cake but. lots of f/o rot#my wonderful wife a.qua is canonically good at baking. i think she'd make a cake for her beloved. i get so happy thinking about a.qua!#shes the sweetest girl ever and i'm always soooo honored that she loves me too#i have a lot of f/os and i could go on forever about all the little things theyd like to do for their special pal's birthday#but also. i've been getting into x.enoblade... and have feelings for a character... i am 🤏 this close to putting him on the list#but uh. a birthday kiss perhaps?#ash rambles 💚#but man.. just spending the day with the people that i love is really all i need. hehe so happy to be with them all!#hope everyone has a great day!#and since it's very early for me. i hope i have a great day too!#happy ash day to me~~~ happy ash day to me~~~#i'd normally be asleep by now but. i'm very brainrotted over my wife tonight and i keep reading over some of my work about her and ash#i love this s/i so much. theyre childhood friends. shes blue and ash is red. a.qua is literally named a.qua and ash is ash#theyre red and blue. fire and water. been together forever. sometimes it really does feel like they were made for each other huh?#i have so much love for her in my heart. it makes my heart feel all skdjsjdhs when i think about her#oh but where was i#right. my birthday! i have a shit ton of fankids too so i bet theyre having fun as well#but.. on the topic of k.h s/i..... R.IKU! MY LITTLE BRO!#they arent related or anything. ash just saw him and was all 'wow who is this sassy lost child... you are little bro now'#she'd get soooo emotional just knowing that the kiddo remembered. he shoots her a text on gummiphone or even visits whatever world she's in#and ash gets all 🥺🥺🥺🥺 and hugs him so tight#but yeah. birthday. f/os. lots of fluff. the good shit fr#fun times!
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winter-spark · 7 months
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I notice that even though Citron's my fave, I spend more time here talking about Orange and Navel.
I think it's fear of being wrong.
#I can say with upmost confidence that everything I say about Orange and Navel is accurate#that's a joke but I do feel like I can say “whatever I want” and not feel like I'll be horribly wrong about it#I've even discussed with myself why if it turned out Orange and Navel were actually born the same year as Citron it'd still make sense#that's not my fave age breakdown but if someone else or the game said they were I'd be like a'ight that's fine I guess#I don't want to say something wrong/inaccurate about Citron tho because the thing is that no matter where I go I'm the odd one out somehow#and I don't want to know what I think on Citron might be wrong I love him and so I'm extra sensitive there#I even have a whole partial joke post that no one reacted to (okay it's a ship post but he's half the ship so...)#that shows me no one agrees with me so I should keep to myself#also tho Orange and Navel are just easier to come up with headcanons for lol#But like like like when I write Citron he's actually the least independent to himself brother if that makes sense#(I'm not sure it does... it's explained better a couple tags down but I'm not saying he doesn't have his own interests#but rather some of his interests/opinions are somewhat influenced by his brothers & he's like that the most out of the four of them)#I mean I haven't written enough Tangerine to compare him here so he might be more but then again he's very opinionated and sure of things#so who can say yet#(I say as if I've written any of them much at all. Genuinely this might not be an entirely fair comparison but still.)#Citron & his brothers#as for how I write Citron he like like has approximate knowledge & mild interest in certain things bcuz he knows his brothers are into them#which is kinda the reverse of SenriMono huh?#but to me it makes sense for Citron because he doesn't want to be fighting with his brothers he wants to be on good terms with them#so I think in the back of his mind he takes interests in things and has thoughts like: 'maybe I can talk to them about these things one day#or 'if there's a point when we're not fighting I'll ask ____ about ___'#you know?#these tags are too long#sorry for rambling#I legit could've just made a separate post with them#but then I'd be putting my thoughts on Citron on display and that'd be scary so I won't move them#I'm almost certain no one reads my tags anyway#still. sorry to the person who actually does and had to read through all this#idk why you didn't stop but I appreciate you regardless :3#by the way did you know there was a 30 tags tag limit? I just found out lol
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chooey · 1 year
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just finished breaking bad
#spoilers ahead so! tread lightly#breaking bad#bc i binged a lot of this show some episodes do not stick out to me like i cant tell u what happened on which episode or even which season#the naz!s were so left field like i think the story would still be the same without the hooked cross tattoos#it was surprising how the drug cartel or whatever didnt have much involvement in s5. like why did i think for sure theyd relocate to mexico#a follow up wouldve been nice is all im saying#OK. characters! my fav were mike jesse gus skyler and saul. hated walt literally since day 1. didnt change much up until the end#listen i can understand the concept of characters being morally bankrupt egotistical narcissistic abusive and manipulative#but walt was just . not charming enough a character to do it sorry he is what he is. sorry to him but i cannot stand him#i can appreciate some of his monologues though! fly (episode) was great for that the show needed it at least in my opinion#i like that all the characters are fundamentally flawed ! walt is at his core insufferable but he makes a good tragic story👍🏼#hank was so stupid like? 😭 when lab equipment from walt's school were stolen i thought that'd be it lollll#it was well written for the most part i think!!!!! some parts needed suspension of disbelief but whatever yk#what matters to me the most is whether i cried or not and yeah. yeah i did cry!!!!!! so what!!!!!!!!!#THEMES. obv theres change/corruption... power and abuse of power. toxic masculinity? and family. living life to the fullest if ur insane#also!!! just finished el camino and i liked it! simple story but i like the themes in it. this man's been through so much#jesse was point blank a victim of abuse and im glad he gets to leave the past behind and move forward with his life#owned up to the choices that gotten him up to this point. had control over his life again and building a new future for himself#very cool. also the ending of brba? i think it's good enough i mean i cant think of anything more fitting#but man did he do some incredible... maybe irreparable damage to his family huh. midlife crisis things <3#i hope they heal <3 somehow <3#wait about the themes too in brba!! one is reaching ur full potential... again if ur insane#idk maybe sometimes it's ok to flop. just as long as ur enjoying ur life and ur happy... i think that's fine! walt u and i will never agree#izza💭
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munamania · 2 years
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literally in tears just bc we’re not having a movie night together girl get a grip. also it’d be nice to just have plans but i wouldn’t even really want to be like Out Partying i just wish i had ppl to like. chill with. whatever. criminal i can’t be hanging out in your living rooms rn everyone
#film girl saga#very convinced we’re going back to the days where we don’t talk outside of class#except now we barely even talk in class and it feels weird. so that’s awesome#and i already brought it up so like. it just kinda feels like over now. i mean ‘what’ feels over my hope??? idk.#just this stupid little bubble of time where we were talking so much and actually hanging out and i was like holy shit#like hi abby from march can u imagine. idk.#so whatever probably just not talking to her anymore and then this semester will end and i won’t even see her once a week#and we’ll just stop talking forever. and she’ll live happily forever after with her gay boyfriend#and i hate that i feel like she’s lying to me i just feel like she’s lying to avoid me. i’m sure she’ll be hanging out with her roommates or#Him or something tn but she won’t extend the invitation back to me. maybe i’m being too judgy and she is just going home to chill#who cares. whatever.#like it doesn’t matter but it hurts and it’s stupid because. like. huh???#why is it so WEIRD to just ask about hanging out???? whatever!!!!#do i have ulterior motives ultimately yeah. am i making that obvious or pushing it in any way#no i don’t think so. i haven’t been the one saying insane shit generally.#but also what if im just like misreading all that stupid stuff and it never really meant anything#and i just got caught in wishful thinking and vibes and hopes and whatever#and exaggerated everything. idk.#well regardless whatever we gotta pull thru for ourself huh abby. it’ll be ok
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