#and that happened last night and now I'm fucked up and I'm worried that i really hurt someone who i love
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𝐖𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒☆.｡.:*
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐕 - 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐲 𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐛
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: mean jock!Ari Levinson x naive!reader, mean jock!Steve Rogers x naive reader
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smutt, dubcon, daddy!kink, size difference, innocence kink, HEAVY MENTIONS OF ALCOHOL AND DRUG CONSUMPTION, mentions of depression, mentions of self-medication, seriously, if you're sensitive about that kind of stuff please do not read, 18+ only, minors dni!
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You're done with both Ari and Steve. But they're not quite done with you...
𝐀/𝐍: Here it is. Again, I'm putting up a disclaimer: Please beware of the strong mentions of irresponsible alcohol and drug consumption in this chapter. Also be aware of the depictions of depression in this chapter. Stay safe & only read what you are comfortable with. This is a dark story. This is chapter 4 of Wicked Games. It is 33.6k words. Enjoy, besties!
Steve: Hey. Look, I’m really sorry about what happened yesterday. Things got out of control and I really did not mean to scare you. Could we talk in person?
Steve: I did plan a date for us. I know you don’t believe me, but I did. For whatever that’s worth. Look, just text me back, okay? Or answer my calls.
Steve: Sometimes I just get like that. Even if you don’t understand, just reply and say you’ll talk to me. I’ll explain everything. Please.
Steve: Can’t you see I’m trying? I want us to work.
Steve: It wasn’t just about sex to me. I know that’s what it looked like but it wasn’t.
Steve: ?????
Each time your phone pings with a new text, you feel a stronger urge to just throw it out the window. Oh, why couldn’t he just leave you alone? You feel awful and on edge, the night’s sleep had done you absolutely no good. You’d tossed and turned the whole time, crying and feeling sad about how terribly your “date” had gone down yesterday. How you’d been used. How it was all just about sex for him, no matter what he claimed.
Your phone starts pinging again.
Ari: Are you okay?
Ari: You need to tell me exactly what he did to you. I’ll set him straight, I promise. I just need to know what he did.
Ari: You were really worked up yesterday so I gave you your space but I’m worried. And pissed off. Just answer me.
Ari: Pick up your phone.
Ari: I’m coming over.
No, no, no. You don’t want him to come over. You don’t want to see either of them. To hell with their mood swings and cocky egos and fake concern for you. Now you know there was only one thing that men like Ari and Steve truly ever wanted from you – sex. Fuck them both. If Ari came over now, you’d scream your head off and not let him in again.
You were done. Completely and irrevocably done. Not just with Ari and Steve, but with men and relationships in general. You were going to make a solemn vow to yourself that from now on, that–
A sudden knocking on your door interrupts your thoughts. Pressing your lips into a thin line, you feel the anger surge through you. Who the fuck was that? Ari? He’d only just sent his last message a minute ago – how was he already here?
A wave of anxiety overtakes you suddenly… What if it was Steve?
Another knock. But it sounds a lot softer than Ari’s usual loud banging – which was what he did on days where he’d forget your dorm key at home.
“Y/N?” You hear a faint, familiar voice from the other side of the door. “Are you there?”
Huh. That was definitely not Steve or Ari…
It takes you about five seconds to haul yourself off your bed and across the room. You open the door cautiously, only to find Sharon standing there. Her face is swollen, red and blotchy, her shiny and usually pristinely styled hair scraped back in a low, sad ponytail. Not a trace of makeup on her face, and she’s wearing a loose, wrinkled St. Andrews sweatshirt instead of her usual cheerleading uniform.
“Ari broke up with me!” She bursts into tears, pulling you into a hug that you have no choice but to return. And the guilt is immediate, spreading throughout your body, thrumming through your bloodstream along with dread. Of course, you knew Ari had dumped her… for you.
“Oh, Sharon…” you mumble against her sweatshirt, a huge lump forming in your throat, “I’m so, so sorry.” Sorrier than you realise…
Sharon sniffles, “I know we’re not really close, but I just didn’t know who else to talk to about this. All my friends are also his friends, or girlfriends of his friends, and…and…and I just needed someone who was my friend, and not his, and–” She breaks out into a fresh wave of tears, hugging you tightly again, burying her face in your neck as she cries. You awkwardly pat her shoulder, feeling like the world’s worst person.
“Come in,” you say reluctantly. Sure, you had your own problems, but you weren’t just going to leave her crying out in the hallway, were you? Especially not since you were basically the reason for her tears.
She smiles weakly, “Thank you.”
You manage to quickly type out a message to Ari while she isn’t looking:
Sharon’s here. Don’t come over. And stop texting me.
“It just came so out of nowhere,” she says, following you into your room and sitting on the edge of your bed, “Well, we weren’t having sex like how we used to but I just assumed he was stressed about basketball or something.”
“Wait, the two of you weren’t having sex?” You blurt out a tad too eagerly, but she doesn’t seem to notice. You sink down beside her, “I mean… wow… so you guys weren’t being – uh – intimate?”
Sharon shakes her head, using the sleeve of her sweatshirt to wipe her eyes, “Not for, like, the past month. But I really didn’t think he was cheating on me… But he basically told me he was dumping me because there was someone else.”
Your heart jumps up to your throat, “H-He said that?”
“Yeah. Well, at first, he kept saying the whole ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ crap.” She snorts, aggressively twining a loose strand of her blonde hair round and round her pointer finger, “But I told him to be honest and just tell me straight up, and I was yelling and so upset and finally he said that there was someone else. Can you believe that?”
Your hands feel clammy, the guilt and anxiety churning around in your stomach like a witch’s cauldron. Should you tell her now? Tell her that you’re the reason her boyfriend dumped her? That you’d been sleeping with Ari behind her back for months? Oh God… You were an awful person, weren’t you? Well, you hadn’t known about Sharon at first… and back then you were innocent enough to believe Ari when he said he’d broken up with her. But you’d wisened up to that and still had sex with him at the party, hadn’t you?
You gulp, “Sharon, there’s something–”
“And can you believe that for a split second I thought it was you?” She says suddenly, her eyes wide and unblinking.
Your blood freezes, “I, I–”
“I know, I know… Totally ridiculous, right?” She laughs. And you’d expected her laugh to be all cute and twinkly and perfect how she is, but it’s low and hoarse and ironic. She squeezes your arm, “I hate that my mind even went there. I don’t know you that well but I just know you wouldn’t do that to me, Y/N.”
“Sharon–”
“It’s just that one time, at that basketball practice when the ball hit your face. The way Ari carried you off… I just got this feeling in my gut, you know?” She laughs again, “But that was just Ari being Ari, stepping up and taking charge of a situation when no one else would. And it’s awful of me to even think you’d do something like that when you’d just got struck in the face and were probably in a lot of pain. Gosh, I’m so sorry for even thinking it!”
She hugs you again. You can smell her sweet perfume, and it goes straight to your head, making you feel sick. Or maybe it’s the guilt eating away at your insides that’s making you feel sick.
“There’s something I have to tell you–”
“–We were together for almost a whole year, you know?” Sharon cuts you off again. “I was gonna take him home for Thanksgiving and everything.” She’s still hugging you, and her cheek rests against the bare nape of your neck. You weren’t used to being this touchy with your girlfriends, but you continue to pat her back nonetheless, feeling like the world’s most awful person ever.
“He’s just the world’s most awful person ever!” She cries, “Like he threw our relationship away like it was nothing! And I was so good to him, Y/N!”
“I know, I know,” you say softly. You feel a wave of disgust for Ari overtake you, but the disgust you feel at yourself overshadows it completely.
“But maybe it’s for the best,” She sits up suddenly, her eyes wide and glistening, an almost daring look on her face, your hand still encased in hers. “Maybe me and Ari weren’t meant to be, and he was just a stupid phase in my life.”
“He’s just a fuckboy,” you agree truthfully, despite feeling rotten over your role in all of this. “You can do so much better than him, Sharon.”
She nods, “Yeah, I think so too. I mean, he’s super hot and all, but…” And then she pauses, looking at you with a curious expression. She bites her lip, still holding on to your hand. “Maybe this is too much information, but lately, even when I was, you know, taking care of myself… I wouldn’t think of him. I’d think of someone else.”
“That’s good!” You say enthusiastically. “Who were you thinking of? Like an actor or singer or something? Or a cute guy in one of your classes?”
She stares at you a bit longer, before suddenly dropping her gaze, “Yeah, something like that. Anyways, thank you so much for being there for me, Y/N. I know I just barged into your room unannounced.”
At that moment, your phone vibrates. Once, twice, three times. More texts. You’re thankful you left your phone facedown; in case they were from Ari and she saw.
“That’s probably Steve, isn’t it?” Sharon says.
You nod quickly, suddenly in a hurry to stop talking about Ari, “Yeah. They’re all from him. He’s been texting me nonstop since last night when me and him had a fight.”
“Oh no. Is everything gonna be okay?”
You shake your head tersely, not wanting to talk about the disastrous date. “No. Me and him are over. Forever.” And so are me and Ari.
Sharon nods, giving you another hug. “Men are trash. I’m so glad we have each other, Y/N. I’m so happy we’re friends now.”
You swallow harshly, hoping the guilt isn’t so evident on your face. Inside your head, there’s about a million different thoughts racing each other. Should you tell her about Ari now? Or wait till later when she was more distanced from the situation and less distraught? Oh God, it was like problems followed you wherever you went! First Steve, then Ari, and now Sharon was in the mix too. And the worst part was, how kind she was being. How genuinely good she was and how she didn’t deserve to be lied to in the least.
I’ll tell her, you promise yourself. I swear I’ll tell her soon…
***
“You need to stop moping around so much,” Wanda says as the two of you walk down the corridor after a lecture. Well, she walks. You just drag your feet. It’s been two days since the “date” with Steve and the subsequent scene with Sharon in your dorm room, and your emotions have been all over the place.
“Like okay, so the Steve thing didn’t work out. It’s not the end of the world, is it? Just get over it.” Wanda continues scanning the crowd of people in the hallway.
“I just feel like nobody wants a relationship with me, Wanda.” You say softly. “All they ever seem to want is sex.”
“Huh? Yeah, that really sucks,” she says distractedly, standing on her tip-toes to look over the sea of heads all milling around or heading to their next class. “Where’s Curtis? He agreed to meet me here.”
Your stomach drops. Curtis again? Oh, you hope Ari’s not with him! You’d successfully been able to avoid him since the night he’d left your dorm room, and you didn’t want to break that streak now.
Wanda spots her boyfriend a moment later and squeals, jumping up and down trying to get his attention. Thankfully, he isn’t with Ari. But he is standing in a cosy corner of the corridor, deep in conversation with a tiny brunette cheerleader. You watch as she laughs at something he said and puts her hand on his chest.
You glance warily at Wanda, but she still has that determined bright smile on her face as she charges over to him, pulling you along with her.
“Curtis! Hey!” She wraps her arms around his neck territorially, plastering her lips on his. The cheerleader smirks, and you see her wink at him before she leaves. Only then does Curtis finally give his girlfriend some attention. You stand there, awkwardly staring at your shoes for the next five minutes while they noisily kiss next to you.
“You still in a bad mood, sweetheart?” Curtis grins once the two of them finally break apart.
“She’s always in a bad mood,” Wanda interjects before you can respond, “Hey, Curtis, you wanna check out the new drive-in theatre downtown? I don’t have any more classes today and I know you don’t either.”
Curtis yawns, “I don’t know. I kinda just wanna chill today.”
“Oh. That’s fine too, I guess. You wanna just grab lunch on campus?”
“Nah. I think I’ll just head back home. I have stuff to do.”
Wanda nods, “Okay, can I come too?”
He shrugs, “Sure. If you must.”
They start towards the exit, and you have no choice but to follow them. But when Wanda stops to talk to one of the girls in her Philosophy class, Curtis shoots you a smirk.
“Sweetheart, why don’t you come back to my place too?”
You frown, “What would I do in your room with you and Wanda?”
The spark in his eye is nothing short of devilish, “I could think of a few things the three of us could get up to.”
“You’re disgusting, Curtis.”
“You sure about that? I have some more of those magic pills you’re such a huge fan of. The three of us could have some fun.” His eyes rake over your body brazenly, and you feel the urge to throw up. So, it was true. All men viewed you as an easy hook-up. A slut. Ari, Steve, now Curtis too.
“What the hell is wrong with you? Wanda is your girlfriend and you should have more respect for her.”
He rolls his eyes, “You’re one to talk about respecting girlfriends.”
The jab stings, especially since it has a ring of truth to it. But you glare up at him nonetheless, “Fuck you.”
“Are you and Ari both perpetually in a bad mood these days or what?”
“I’m not speaking to Ari, so I wouldn’t know what kind of mood he’s in.” You answer curtly.
“He’s in a shitty mood, I’ll tell you that much,” Curtis snorts. “You’d think he’d be over the fucking moon after finally dumping Sharon, but now all he does is glare at his phone because you won’t answer his texts.”
Sure, Ari had been continuously texting and calling you for the past two days, but you’d gotten better at ignoring him. The last text you’d sent him was when you’d told him not to come over because Sharon was there.
“Are we ready to go, babe?” Wanda asks, waving goodbye to the girl from her Philosophy class.
Curtis stretches and grunts, “Yeah, let’s go,” He looks over at you, “You need a lift to wherever you’re headed?”
“No, she doesn’t!” Wanda interjects quickly, grabbing his hand and tugging him towards the exit impatiently, “You wanted to be alone, didn’t you, Y/N?”
You shrug, “Sure.”
Watching them leave hand in hand, you stand there in a sea of people – and yet you feel more alone than ever. You know you need to snap out of this funk, but it’s so hard. Even now, as you look around, you can see about five different couples. All happily hanging out, talking, eating lunch together, kissing, holding hands. Would you ever experience anything normal like that?
You’re about to leave when someone grabs your wrist, yanking you sideways. You yelp, barely catching a glimpse of Ari’s brown waves before you’re pulled into an empty corridor.
“Ari! What the fuck–”
“Stop it with the ignoring my texts shit!” He spits out, eyes already blazing, “I’ve been worried sick about you.”
“Let go of me.”
Surprisingly, he does. But he blocks your path with his huge frame, stepping in front of you every time you try to push past him. This continues for a solid minute and a half before you finally huff and give up trying to escape.
“I went to see Steve that night.” Ari says finally.
Your stomach churns at the mention of the blonde’s name.
“I don’t want to hear this.”
“He wasn’t at home. And the other guys in his frat wouldn’t say where he was,” he runs a hand through his hair, “But I’m guessing he was probably hiding out at his parent’s house.”
That was exactly where he was. You knew that.
“Please tell me you didn’t go there.”
Ari regards you closely, as if you’re made out of glass and he’s trying to formulate his sentences as carefully as he can. “I didn’t,” he says finally, sighing, “I was about to, but–”
“Good,” you interrupt, “I don’t need you fighting him or whatever. Not on my behalf.” You narrow your eyes, “How do you even know where his parents’ house is?”
He hesitates, “I don’t know off the top of my head, but I would’ve found out.” He grabs your hands, his blue eyes looking earnest, which is a look you aren’t used to seeing on him at all. “He’s clearly avoiding me, but look, the sooner you tell me what exactly happened between you and him, the sooner I’ll deal with it.”
From over his shoulder, you see a group of cheerleaders walk by. In a panic, you snatch your hands away from him. Was Sharon with them? Had she seen you with him? No. She wasn’t there. And yet now you feel more paranoid than ever.
“We can’t do this, Ari,” you mutter, trying to sidestep him again, “We can’t be seen together now or ever again, so just move so I can leave–”
“No.”
“Yes!” you try not to explode or lose your patience, “This isn’t right, okay? You and me, we’re not right. Sharon doesn’t deserve us going behind her back, she doesn’t–”
“I told you, I broke up with her.”
“That doesn’t make any of this okay, so just move!”
He doesn’t. Instead, he grabs your arm again, tugging you somewhere deep into the corridor before you have a chance to stop him or finish your sentence. And he’s too strong to fight against, so you don’t even try it. The last thing you want is to put any more attention on you or him. Even if Sharon wasn’t around, one of her friends could see you with him and report back to her. And after everything that happened with you and Sharon, you wanted to come clean to her yourself, rather than have her hear about you sleeping with her boyfriend behind her back from somebody else.
“The supply closet? Really, Ari?” You plant your hands on your hips, watching as he shuts and locks the door of the dimly lit room.
He shrugs, “If it’ll get you to stop running away from me...”
“Well, why can’t you just get the message? I’m running for a reason.” You try to push past him, but the closet is way too small to allow that type of movement. He easily grabs your waist and lifts you back in front of him, making you scowl. “Look, I don’t know what you expected would happen between us when you dumped Sharon, I already told you we’re done. She doesn’t deserve this.”
Ari has the audacity to look confused, “Since when do you care about her?”
“Since I developed a brain and realised what we did behind her back for months was wrong!” You explode, hating the fact that you have to spell this out for him. “You know that she came to my dorm room the day after you dumped her? She was a mess, Ari! All because of us, and she doesn’t even know it!”
He sighs, “If you want, I could come clean to her and tell her it was you who I was sleeping with. You shouldn’t have to deal with that, it’s my problem, anyways.”
“No, you don’t say anything, Ari! I’m going to tell her myself.” Soon.
“Okay, but trust me, don’t worry about her too much. She’s a strong girl, she’ll bounce back.”
You stare at him incredulously. Strong girl? Bounce back? Oh, he was infuriating!
“Whatever, Ari.” You mutter, once more trying to push past him but he places you back in front of him with such ease that it’s almost comical.
“What happened to you that day with Steve?” He asks again, his brow furrowed.
“It’s none of your business.”
He scoffs, folding his arms over his chest. “You came home in tears with your dress all torn up and you expect me to just go about my business as if all that was nothing?”
“Yes. It shouldn’t be too hard for you considering you’ve left me in tears yourself a couple of times.” You think back to the frat party, how he’d left you drunk, high and in tears in the bathroom. By the guilt that flashes in Ari’s eyes, he remembers too.
“I told you I was sorry about that.”
You shrug, “Whatever. It doesn’t matter anyways. You used me, and Steve used me too.” Your voice almost breaks but you clear your throat quickly, not wanting to cry in front of him.
“What do you mean Steve used you?” Ari grabs your shoulders with a note of urgency. “Did he do something you didn’t want to do? Did he fuck you? Goddamit, I told you not to speak to him!”
Shaking out of his grasp, you feel another flash of anger. The same flash you’d felt surge through you the night you’d kicked Ari out of your dorm room. A part of you wants to start yelling and screaming again, but you know you can’t do that here.
“What does it matter, anyways?” You snap, feeling the walls building up around you. Half of you wants to scream and the other half wants to curl up and cry. The two emotions swirl inside you like a whirlpool, making you feel lightheaded.
A handful of seconds go by and all Ari does is stare at you. You can hear him breathing hard, almost erratically, as if deciding his next move. Finally, he bends down so his face is level with yours, his hands leaving your shoulders to cup your cheeks instead. His eyes, so bright blue despite the dark mustiness of the supply closet, bore into yours so intensely.
“Did. He. Fuck. You?”
“No.”
“Did he hurt you?”
You don’t answer, instead staring at the dark nothingness beyond Ari’s shoulder. Maybe if you focused on it hard enough, you could dissociate and float away from this situation. Float away from anyone else who could hurt you or use you or manipulate you. Float away from the guilt, the shame, the sadness, all of it.
Instead, you feel the wind being knocked out of you as Ari roughly pushes you against what feels like a shelf. The wooden edges poke against your back, and your mouth curls in pain.
“Listen to me. I’m not fucking around anymore, okay? You need to tell me what happened right fucking now.” Ari growls, his face inches from yours. It seems like someone’s ignited a fire in his eyes, twin fires – one burning bright in each eye, and you can practically feel the heat of his anger radiating from his being.
“You’re hurting me!” You cry out pitifully.
Like a hot poker, Ari drops you immediately, regret seeping through his features before he takes a deep breath.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just…” He pauses, and for a second his whole face screws up and contorts, like he’s inwardly examining every corner of his brain to conjure up the right thing to say. “Look, I care about you. A lot. And these past two days have been torture, knowing that he did something to you and I couldn’t protect you.”
He sounds sincere, but you know it’s all an act. He doesn’t mean it, he’s only trying to be nice so he can have sex with you later, the voice inside your head cackles.
“So just tell me what he did, and I’ll–”
“WHAT PART OF IT DO YOU WANT TO KNOW, ARI?” You burst, “What part of the whole ugly thing would you like me to relive first? The part where he promised he’d take me out on a date but he took me to his bedroom instead?” You duck your head in shame, “I suppose I should be used to that by now, but I was stupid enough to let myself hope.”
Ari draws his breath but stays silent.
“Or would you rather I tell you everything he said? Down to the last fucking detail? How he basically implied that I was the world’s biggest slut?” This time, you can’t keep the tears at bay. “H-He said… He said I should stop acting like a nun because I had no problem with you fucking me at the party!”
You don’t mention the part where Steve had also said you’d had no problem spreading your legs for Steve too the night of the party. You have yet to come to terms with and address that little detail, and so you push it back to the depths of your mind for now. Ari couldn’t know about that, not when you didn’t know yourself.
Instead, your face crumples up, and before you realise it, you’re heaving with tears. Waterfalls pouring down your cheeks as you cry and cry. You don’t even notice Ari picking you up, you don’t notice him sitting down on a nearby stool and holding you in his lap. Carefully holding your head against his chest, rocking you back and forth as his other hand rubs up and down your back.
So much for all your bravado, so much for keeping up a strong front and resisting Ari at all costs. Here you were again, crying in his arms like you always ended up doing.
“H-He was so awful!” you sob, burying your head deep in Ari’s shirt, inhaling the manly scent of his aftershave, and it calms your hurting heart a little bit. But not enough. “He said all these mean things, and he…he wouldn’t stop, Ari! I k-kept saying no, but he wouldn’t listen at all! It was like something came over him!”
You fist the soft material of Ari’s jersey, taking comfort in the feel of his strong arms wrapped tightly around you. His familiar, manly scent and his soft hair tickling your face as he holds you carefully against him. And despite everything, you can’t help but note how strange this is. Of course, Ari had held you while you cried about a dozen times – but this seemed different. For one, he wasn’t cooing sweet manipulations into your ear. He was just… silent. You risk peaking up at him through teary eyes, to see him looking straight ahead with a grim look on his face, the beginnings of a sneer forming on his lips.
“It’s okay,” Ari says softly, his voice sounding thick as if there’s something stuck in his throat. Was this what true, earnest sympathy sounded like coming from him? Or was it all just an act? You’re too busy crying and seeking solace in his warm chest to really mull it over, and the beefy basketball player continues to stroke your back, “It’s okay, baby. He won’t hurt you anymore. I promise he won’t.”
“JUST SAY IT ALREADY! Just say ‘I told you so!’” You sob, “He didn’t care about me at all, Ari! Just like you said. He was just using me. He just wanted sex, or to get back at you, or both!”
He doesn’t say I told you so. Instead, his lips press down on top of your head, kissing you gently. And you know you should push him away, but you reason with yourself to hold on to him just for a little bit longer. Just till you felt a little bit better. Was that so wrong?
“He won’t hurt you again,” Ari repeats firmly, now cupping your face with both his hands so you look him dead in the eye.
“He scared me so bad, Ari!” you sniffle, “H-He punched a wall when I said I wanted to leave, and then…and then he wouldn’t let me go!”
Ari mutters something unintelligible under his breath, before using the corner of his sleeve to wipe your cheeks. “How did you get him to stop?”
“I couldn’t. But thankfully, his sister was there and she stopped him.”
Ari freezes, “His sister?”
“Yes.”
“Did she say anything to you?”
“Not really,” you look down at your hands. Recounting the whole horrific ordeal with Steve had caused them to start shaking, and you grip at your skirt to get them to stop. Before you know it, Ari’s larger hands cup your own, holding them in place on your lap, stilling them, calming you.
“Well, don’t worry,” Ari says firmly, “he won’t touch you ever again. I’ll make sure of it.”
His face looks earnest, sincere. A large part of you feels comforted by him, but there’s also a dwindling doubt in the back of your mind. A little speck of mistrust growing larger and larger, fuelled by all the times he’s hurt you. Fuelled by how Steve had hurt you. Despite the fact that you don’t want to, you snatch your hands out of his and shoot up off his lap as if he’s shot you. No. You weren’t going to do this again. You weren’t going to fall for his false promises. Not this time.
“Stop lying,” you say shakily, backing away from him slowly. “You don’t care about me so stop pretending like you do. You just want me for sex, and you’re angry that someone else got close to having me like that too. But you don’t actually care about me or how I feel, Ari, so just stop lying!”
He stands up too, frowning, “I’m not lying. I dumped Sharon. I’ve been texting and calling you this whole time. Hell, I’m standing inside a fucking supply closet just to get a minute alone with you. What part of that says I don’t care?”
“You don’t care,” you repeat softly, “It took me a while to realise it, but now I do. All I’m good for is sex.”
“That’s not true–”
“Yes it is!” You cry, “Remember all the times I begged to be your girlfriend and you came up with a bullshit excuse each time? It’s because you knew that I wasn’t worth anything more than a hook-up for you!” You shake your head bitterly, “God, you must’ve been laughing behind my back at how stupid and naïve I was for expecting more from you. Steve’s probably laughing too. You’re both the same and I’m not going to let you or him or anyone else hurt me ever again! So, for the love of God, just leave me alone!”
You turn to leave, but Ari grabs your hand.
“What’s it going to take to show you that I care about you? Because I’ll do it.”
You don’t turn back around, waiting two long seconds before you tug your hand out of his grip. But you do open your mouth to respond – except nothing comes out. Instead, you sigh. There was really nothing more left to say, was there? Except perhaps just one more thing…
“Nothing, Ari. People don’t just change overnight. Especially not people like you.”
You step out of the supply closet, carefully shutting the door behind you and finally walking away. And hopefully this time, it’s for good.
***
Ari: WTF. Why did you change your lock???
Ari: Stop avoiding me.
Ari: If you weren’t so hellbent on ignoring me, you’d know that I have changed. Just give me a chance to prove it to you.
Ari: ???????
Ari: Steve’s still dodging me, by the way. Me and Curtis went over to his frat house but he wasn’t there again. Clearly, he’s afraid of me, but don’t worry. I promise I’ll make him pay for what he did.
The days go by, and Ari continues to text you daily all while you lock yourself up in your room and pretty much avoid the outside world. And his last text makes you want to tear your hair out. Why couldn’t Ari just butt out of your life and stop trying to fight Steve on your behalf!? You’d never asked for that; you didn’t want that! You just wished the whole ordeal with Steve had never even happened, you wished you could will it out of existence.
And speaking of Steve, he still texted you too. Not as frequently as Ari, which made him better at taking a hint than he was at planning first dates. But you still received a message from him every now and again…
Steve: I get it. I fucked it all up.
Steve: I need to see you again. I’ll make it right. Please.
And sure, there was a tiny part of you that did want to hear Steve out. But you were afraid of him, afraid of what he’d do or say. Plus, he’d literally lied to you, pretended he was interested in having a relationship with you when really, he just wanted sex. So, who was to say he wouldn’t lie again? Oh God, everything felt so wrong, how could he possibly make anything right!?
And why couldn’t you just block them both and move on!? You wish you could, yet you can’t find it in you to block or delete either of their numbers. Not Ari’s, and not even Steve’s. Maybe it’s the naïve little girl inside you, the insecure little girl who wants to hold on to the only male attention she’s ever gotten – despite the fact that your relationships with both men had gone up in smoke. And so you settle with just muting and archiving their chats. Out of sight, out of mind – except not really. But it’s the best you can do for now.
And you feel more alone now than ever. With Wanda always preoccupied with Curtis, you had nobody to confide your heartbreak in. But ironically, you began to grow closer with Sharon. On the rare occasions you actually left your dorm room and made it into campus for your lectures, she always seemed to find you. You realised quickly that she no longer hung out with her usual cheerleader friends. Either she herself had opted to leave them, or they’d decided to leave her because she was no longer the basketball captain’s girlfriend. Either way, you didn’t ask.
“It’s probably one of them,” Sharon mutters darkly one day as the two of you walk past a gaggle of cheerleaders, “The bitch he was cheating on me with. It’s probably one of them.”
You gulp. You had yet to come clean to her – but you could never find the right moment. And as time went by and she started spending more and more time with you, it got even harder to just drop the bomb and be like, oh hey, by the way! That bitch who your boyfriend cheated on you with? That was me!
But apart from all that, Sharon was good company. Both of you were dealing with heartbreak (she seemed to be dealing with hers better than you were dealing with yours), and so there was a kind of understanding between the two of you. Not to mention, hanging out with her turned out to be useful in keeping Ari away from you. Any time he spotted you on campus, he’d start making a beeline for you before freezing when he realised you were with her.
“You know, I think I figured out why both Ari and Steve treated us the way they did.” Sharon pipes up one day whilst the two of you are leaving campus. “It’s because we’re too nice.”
“Hm?” You barely utter a word, just wanting to get home and wallow in bed. You hadn’t told Sharon the extent of what had happened between you and Steve on your “date.” All she knew was that it was over, and you never wanted to speak to him again.
“Yeah, it’s because we’re too nice. Bad bitches don’t get their hearts broken, but nice girls always do.” She says, unscrewing her lip gloss and touching up her lips. Unlike you, she’d gotten some of her pep back since her breakup. In a way, you were glad. You’d rather her be happy than you – she deserved it after getting cheated on.
You manage to laugh cynically, which eggs the blonde on as she continues.
“I’m serious. From here on out, let’s promise not to take any shit from anyone. That way, no one can hurt us again.”
No one hurting you ever again? That sounded like a dream. You knew you could be naïve at times, especially months ago when Ari had first started hooking up with you. Back then, you really thought you’d hit the jackpot and found yourself the perfect boyfriend. Now, months later, it was like you’d mentally matured at rapid speed. Could you be tougher now? Stop being the stupid, naïve little girl that kept getting played by men?
“That’s easier said than done,” you remark softly.
Sharon shrugs, “It’s worth a shot. I think if you act like an ice queen well enough, people are gonna know not to fuck with you. So, like, next time Steve tries to approach you or sweet-talk you into taking him back, just act like you couldn’t care less. Keep a strong resolve, he’ll get the message.”
You think back to all the times in the past you’ve tried to keep a strong resolve. Not with Steve, but with Ari. And every single time, you’d ended up crumbling and crying in his arms. Giving him the perfect opportunity to manipulate you again. Would the same thing happen with Steve? Who could be extremely charming and angelic when he wanted to be? You hoped not…
Turns out you don’t have to wonder that for too long. Because as you walk up to your dorm building after parting ways with Sharon, you see Steve sitting on the stairs of the entrance. He stands up quickly when he spots you, and your heartbeat quickens. Oh no, why was he here!?
“I didn’t mean to ambush you,” Steve calls out when you stop dead in your tracks a few feet away from him. “But you wouldn’t return any of my calls.” He starts making his way over to you, and you remain frozen in place. Despite every cell in your body screaming for you to run.
“Please, stay away from me.” You mumble.
Steve stops short, holding his hands up defensively, “I’m not going to hurt you. I just wanted to apologise.” His face softens, and you notice how he’s got a bit of facial hair now, like he hasn’t shaved since you last saw him. His hair looks scruffier too. He’s also got dark circles under his eyes, like he hasn’t slept. In fact, in his black hoodie (the hood up) and black sweats, he looks about as depressed as you feel.
“Sorry, I’m not interested in your apology.” You stick your nose up and resume walking, trying your hardest to follow Sharon’s advice and be the stone-faced ice queen who didn’t let anything phase her.
Steve, of course, follows you up the steps and into your building.
“I wasn’t thinking straight that day in my bedroom. Sometimes I get like that.”
“I don’t care.” You try to sound nonchalant, but now you’re a bit scared. What if he followed you all the way up to your room? Forced his way inside? Locked the door and had his way with you like how he’d tried to last time? There was no Kira here to pacify him, either… Abruptly, you turn around, trying to keep your voice from shaking, “Steve, please don’t follow me inside.”
He bites his lip, looking every bit as handsome as he always did. Which sucked, because he deserved to have somehow become ugly after how horrible he’d been the last time you’d seen him. But no such luck, he still looked angelic. A bit dark and twisted and scruffy, but angelic nevertheless.
“But I need to explain to you why I acted the way I did.”
A bitter chuckle forces itself out your mouth, fear momentarily forgotten. “I know why you acted the way you did. You wanted sex, and you thought I was so naïve and easy, that I would easily provide it for you. And when I didn’t, you lost it.
“No, that’s not it at all!”
You jump at his tone, but try to keep your expression unfazed. “Well, I don’t care and I’m not interested.”
He clenches his fists, his jaw tensing too. But he relaxes when he notices the way your eyes widen in fear, and how you take a few steps back.
“Please, fuck, just don’t be scared of me.” He holds his hands up defensively again, and this time, you notice one of them is bandaged up. The one he punched the wall with. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“No, you already did that, Steve.” You turn back around and continue walking up to your dorm room, trying so hard to appear nonchalant.
“I’m not the best at controlling my emotions, okay?” He calls out behind you, and the steady patter of his footsteps reveals he’s still following you as you go up the stairs of your building. “My parents, they’ve made me see a bunch of doctors for it, and lately I’ve been able to cope but I’ll admit, something inside me snapped that day, and I took it out on you when I shouldn’t have, and–”
“DIDN’T YOU HEAR ME? I SAID I’M NOT INTERESTED IN ANYTHING YOU HAVE TO SAY!” You reach your door before angrily whipping around, “Just leave me alone, alright? I don’t care if you’re sorry, it doesn’t take back the fact that you lied and made it seem like you wanted to date me when really all you wanted was sex! Not to mention, all the vile things you said and how scary you got. Now just leave me the fuck alone!”
Quickly, you slip inside your room and slam your door shut, locking it at lightning speed. Steve calls out your name, he knocks, he rattles your doorknob. And all you do is lean against the door, breathing fast and willing yourself not to cry. It was okay, he wouldn’t hurt you. There was a locked door between the two of you.
“(Y/N), please. Just give me another chance,” Steve knocks again, “I know I acted like a complete asshole, okay? I knew it the second I snapped out of it. And I really didn’t mean to say all those things.”
You feel that sudden flash of anger again. Bolting through you like lightning. After everything he’d said to you, after he’d forced himself on you… The best he could come up with was “I was an asshole and I didn’t mean it,”!? No, you couldn’t let him get off that easily. There were things that needed explaining and questions that needed to be answered.
Before you can think better of it, you throw the door back open. Of course, he’s still standing there, and you muster up the toughest, most ice queen-esque expression you can possibly make.
“Fine. We can talk.” You fold your arms over your chest, “But you need to answer me honestly. So don’t try to lie or manipulate me.”
Steve nods immediately, “Okay. Thank you.” He steps forward, as if he’s trying to get into your room. You quickly raise a hand up.
“No. Out here.” You don’t feel comfortable being in a bedroom alone with him. You take a deep breath, “You said that I spread your legs for you the night of the party. What did we do? And don’t lie.”
“We hooked up.” Steve meets your steely gaze evenly, before shaking his hoodie off his head and running a hand through his scruffy hair. It’s gotten long enough that the ends are starting to curl up, kind of like how Ari’s do – not that that was relevant at all right now. “In the cab when I was taking you home. We didn’t have sex, but we hooked up and I got you off.”
You wrack your brain, willing yourself to remember that night. But all you can muster up are fragmented pieces of memory. In the car with him, and you remembered how good he’d smelled. You remember his varsity jacket, and how it had somehow ended up around your shoulders. But… what else? Oh! You remember being in his lap, you remember the car hitting some bumps, and… Oh.
You nod slowly, “So then why did you lie? At the practice game, when you could’ve mentioned what happened?”
Steve exhales, “I did, but you were all confused. I thought you’d remember, but when I realised you didn’t, I just… Well, I don’t know why I didn’t say anything. I just… didn’t.”
For a guy who was so hell bent on explaining things to you, his explanations sure did suck.
You laugh bitterly, “No, you were too busy flaunting me in front of Ari’s face during that practice.” God, how could you have been so stupid!?
“Look, I said I’d answer everything and tell you the whole truth,” He shifts from one foot to the other, scratching his neck as if debating whether to say what he’s about to say, “And yes, I’ll admit that a part of me was using you to get to Ari.”
It feels like a punch to your gut. You’d suspected it, but the fact that he was so readily confirming it made it all the worse. With just a few words, Steve had confirmed all your insecurities. Not only did he not want to date you, not only was he just using you for sex… Oh no, as if that wasn’t enough, he’d also been using you as a pawn in whatever sick, longstanding rivalry he had with Ari.
Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry…
“Please don’t cry,” Steve steps forward, closing the gap between the two of you. And you’re so distraught by the bomb he’s dropped on you, that you don’t even try to run away from him. Instead, you lean against the door, breathing heavily, trying to keep your tears at bay.
He continues, “This is me being honest, alright? Something Ari never is with you. And yes, I wanted him to be jealous, I wanted to get a rise out of him, so I flaunted you in front of him. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t care about you. I still care about you.”
“How can you possibly say you care about me after everything you’ve just admitted?” You manage to get out as you try to get your breathing back into order.
“Because I do care! I think I’d know what I’m feeling better than you would!” He’s growing visibly frustrated. “Fuck, sorry. I’m so bad at explaining shit.” He smacks his forehead hard several times and yet you don’t even have it in you to flinch.
“Goddamit, look, I’ll start from the beginning.” He takes a few, gulping breaths. “When I first saw you at the party, it had nothing to do with Ari, I didn’t even know that you knew him. I approached you that night because you looked cute and lost, and I liked how feisty and sweet you were–”
“That’s a lie!” You wipe at your eyes roughly, “That’s a fucking lie, Steve. Aren’t you forgetting what you said last time you saw me? You knew what Ari and I did that night, you called me a slut for spreading my legs for him in the middle of a party! And you expected I’d do the same for you.”
“No, that’s not it at all!”
He gulps as if trying to get his breathing even once more, and you realise that’s his way of calming himself down. And you can tell that he’s trying, that he’s trying so hard not to have a meltdown like last time, and you just look at him apprehensively. You know you could back away at any moment, slam the door in his face again and lock it and be done with him. And yet, your feet remain planted in place, as if a part of you just has to hear him out.
“I’m sorry I called you a slut. It’s all a big fucking blank in my head, like I blacked out and said all those things. And I never saw you and Ari fucking at the party or anything like that. I only found that out days later through the grapevine. But I shouldn’t have used it against you, that was wrong of me. I’m sorry I fucked it all up by saying that. You didn’t deserve it.”
You shake your head but he hurriedly continues, “I was always going to ask you out, Ari or no Ari. It’s only when I saw how jealous he got when he saw you with me, that I realised how much he liked you. That he liked you more than he liked his own girlfriend. That’s when I realised I could be with you and get back at him at the same time.”
Get back at him!? For what? Did you even care, at this point?
Anger. Fear. Confusion. Pure fucking discombobulation. That’s what you feel. So much so, that you don’t even know what to say or how to act.
Steve takes your lack of response as his cue, moving forward and reach out to cup the side of your face slowly. And you fucking hate how soft and warm his hand feels, how it’s bigger than your whole head yet feels gentle at the same time. Gentle, when the last time he’d had his hands on you, he’d been holding you down on his bed while he tried to force himself on you.
“But I like you too,” Steve says quietly, almost like a whisper, “I like you more than he ever could. And whenever I like something, whenever I have something good in my life, I always fuck it up. But this time, for once in my life I want to make things right.”
“I kept telling you to stop,” you whisper, squeezing your eyes shut as the memories from that night barge their way back into your head. “Y-You ripped my dress.”
“I’m so sorry, baby girl.”
“You wouldn’t stop, Steve. It’s like you weren’t there, like something came over you and you weren’t there anymore.”
He nods fervently, his fingers stroking your cheek, “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I can’t help that I’m like this, I really fucking wish I could be normal and react normally to things like how other people do. I wish it more than anything in the fucking world.”
It’s like he’s a completely different man from the one you’d first met and thought you knew. The man who’d been so shrouded in mystery, oozing with confidence and charm. His intense aura, the smoothness with how he’d spoken to you in the past. But in this moment, it’s like all of that had melted away. And here he was, stripped back. Rough round the edges with bags under his eyes, an earnest look on his face. And this time when you look into his eyes, for a moment it’s like you really see him; you see someone fighting to be normal, desperate for another chance. Oh, should you…?
And then you blink. And there it is again: Steve, the very same man, saying all those vile things to you. All because you wouldn’t fuck him. Him ripping your dress, him holding you down. Him losing his temper. Him punching the wall. The way he’d held you so hard, not letting you leave. That dark, faraway look in his eyes. How scared you’d been… And here you were, letting him cup your face and speak all tenderly with you!?
What if he got like that again?
It’s like a lash of electricity jolts through you. You push Steve away hard.
“Listen to me carefully, Steve, because I’m not gonna say this again. You’re not who I thought you were. You lied about what happened on the night we met, and you lied about your intentions with me. It doesn’t matter if you say you wanted to date me, because your past actions speak louder than whatever words you’re saying now.” You take a deep breath, “That’s why I want you to leave me alone. Forever. Just walk out right now and never look back. Because I’m done with you. And I really, truly mean it.”
He freezes, an unreadable expression on his face. A myriad of emotions flitter through his eyes. Shock, sadness, anger. Disbelief. Resignation. And then…
“And what about Ari?” He says quietly, “You’re choosing him?”
“No, I–”
Steve spits out a bitter laugh, as if he wasn’t gently cupping your face and promising you everything just five seconds ago.
“You don’t know him, (Y/N). Okay fine, I wasn’t completely honest with you and I guess that means I’ve fucked things up between us forever. But you think Ari hasn’t lied to you?”
“I know he’s lied–”
“YOU DON’T KNOW THE HALF OF IT!” Out of nowhere, he raises his voice. And it cuts you like a sword, reverberating off the walls. You flinch at the booming loudness of his words, the aggressiveness back on his angelic face and now he’s scaring you again. “You don’t know what he’s done, okay!?”
“You’re scaring me.”
You try to say it calmly, but your voice breaks right at the end. Steve blinks rapidly, several times. Breathing hard, he looks down at his fingers which are enclosed tightly around your arm. Just like that day in his room. Like a hot poker, he drops it immediately. And again, it’s like he’s waking up from some sort of a momentary trance. Or rather, a momentary wave of anger.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats in a low tone, “but if you knew the things he’s done, you wouldn’t have picked him–”
“I HAVEN’T PICKED HIM!” It’s your turn to explode. “I didn’t pick him, Steve. This isn’t about picking anyone. I’m done with you, and I’m done with Ari too. I’m picking neither of you. Goodbye.”
You turn around and slam your door shut before he can get another word out.
***
“It’s like, a fundraising gala type thing held at the Hilton. The money raised gets split down the middle, half going towards the basketball team and half towards the cheerleaders,” Sharon explains, twirling a piece of her blonde hair around her finger. “Which, by the way, I think is totally lame, because the basketball team doesn’t even need any more funding. Unlike the cheerleaders.”
She swivels around in your desk chair, her sock clad feet waving around in the air. Outside, the sun sparkles and a gentle breeze flows in through your window. The weather had been great lately, as if the atmosphere knew you’d finished the final chapter of the Ari and Steve saga and closed the book on both of them. As if nature itself was willing you to go outside and begin your new chapter, one where you were sexy and single and thriving.
So then why could you still not find it in you to step outside of your room on most days?
“I’ve been on the planning and decorating committee for the Athletic Society’s Annual Gala for the past two years,” Sharon continues, “it’s like, one of the biggest events of the year. All these important sports execs and school alumni show up, not to mention half the college. Wanda, I’m guessing you’re going with Curtis, right?”
“Huh?” Wanda glances up from her phone for a split second, looking as if she has not the slightest clue what Sharon is on about. Burying her nose back into her screen, her acrylics start tapping ferociously. And it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to guess who she’s texting. In fact, you were surprised when she’d showed up alongside Sharon outside your dorm room this morning. It was very hard to pin down Wanda lately, since all her time was devoted to her boyfriend.
Sharon raises an eyebrow before shifting her attention back to you, “Well anyways, I think this would be a great opportunity for you to get out of your funk, Y/N. We could go together! As friends, obviously.” She adds hastily.
You manage to muster up a smile, “I don’t know…”
“Oh, come on! It’s been weeks since you ended things with Steve!” Sharon says, and you no longer shiver when his name is mentioned. It’s like the last confrontation you had with him cleared up the fog in your head a little bit. It still depressed you to the core, to know that you’d been used, but at least you didn’t flinch at his name anymore. That was something.
He’d also stopped texting you at all anymore. Which you should be happy about, and yet you still found yourself looking at your chat with him. God, what was wrong with you!? He’d finally left you alone just like how you’d wanted him to, and yet a part of you still felt like it was yearning for him.
“And I know how much you love dressing up and doing your makeup. Hey, we could even go shopping together for dresses!” The blonde claps her hands, clearly unaware of your current inner turmoil as she works herself up into a frenzy.
“We could make it into a proper girl’s night,” She sits on the other end of your bed with a bounce, “Hey, Wanda, why don’t you get ready with us too? You could always just meet Curtis there.”
Wanda scoffs, “Uh, no. I think I’ll go with my boyfriend, thank you very much.”
Sharon rolls her eyes, “Ugh. Fuck boyfriends. I was gonna go with Ari, but that’s obviously not happening anymore. Plus, a girl’s night sounds a lot more fun.”
Your poor, gullible, traitorous heart jolts. “Ari’s gonna be there?”
Unlike Steve, Ari was still texting you and trying to somehow see you in person. You’d successfully avoided him since the supply closet meeting. And yet, you couldn’t stop thinking about him either. God, were you just incapable of not thinking about the two fuckboys who had fucked your entire life up!?
“Yep, but it won’t bother me, I promise.” Sharon says determinedly, “The banquet hall is huge, so I’ll easily just avoid him. He’s probably gonna be super busy, anyways. Word has it that they’re giving him the Basketball MVP award this year.”
“Oh,” you breathe, before quickly clearing your throat, “I don’t know, Sharon. It sounds like fun, but–”
“Curtis says that he’s going to the gala with the basketball team, and that no one else is bringing dates,” Wanda interrupts you as she reads the latest text from her boyfriend. Finally, she looks up, “I guess I’ll go with you girls, then.”
“Great!” Sharon cheers, “You’re in too, right, Y/N?”
You smile, not really knowing what to say. Being in the same banquet hall as Ari and Sharon? At the same time? That was just trouble waiting to happen.
But is this how you were going to spend the rest of the college year? Letting your feelings towards Ari dictate where you went and didn’t go? You think about the old you, the one before Ari or Steve or anyone. The one who loved to dress up and go out to have fun. Before Wanda had got a boyfriend, the two of you used to go out all the time. Another girls’ night wouldn’t harm anyone, would it?
Sharon senses your hesitation, “Come on,” she urges, “It’s not like Steve’s even gonna be there. It’s strictly a St. Andrews’ event.”
You bite your lip. You doubted you’d ever see Steve again. Clearly, since he no longer texted you either. And a part of you is bittersweet as you think about what could have been. Absentmindedly, your eyes divert to your desk chair, where his blue and white varsity jacket still lies. You hadn’t even thought to throw it away. You bet it still smells like him…
Oh God, you had to get over him. Get over both of them and get the fuck out of this funk you were in. So what if Ari would be there too? This was your chance to prove to yourself that his presence didn’t make a difference in how you lived your life.
You take a deep breath, “Okay. I’ll go.”
***
PART II
“Open up, sleepyhead. I’m not leaving and I’ll camp outside your door if you don’t open it.”
You’d woken up the next day to a loud knocking on your door. And you’d tried to ignore him. You really had. It was so much easier to just remain in bed, rotting and feeling sorry for yourself despite the promise you’d made yourself to get over the two men who’d betrayed your trust, and get out of the funk you were in. But the knocking was incessant, going from soft-knuckled raps to full on banging. You were sure he’d wake up your entire building, and then you’d have to pay a noise fine.
That’s why I’m opening the door, you think to yourself. Not because I actually want to see him.
And there’s Ari, standing outside your door with a picnic basket under his arm. And he looks kind of funny, his big athletic self holding such a dainty little thing. He also looks extremely pleased with himself, and you don’t even have the energy within you to argue with him or tell him to leave. You and him had gone non-contact ever since the confrontation inside the supply closet. Or rather, you’d gone non-contact whilst Ari tried to find ways to talk to you. He couldn’t corner you on campus anymore because you were usually with Sharon, and you’d changed your locks so he couldn’t exactly barge into your dorm room like how he used to.
“Go away, Ari.”
“Hey, nice to see you too. I come bearing food, because I know you haven’t eaten. And don’t ask me how I know, I just know.” Ari says breezily, and you frown at how chipper he’s acting. As if the last time you’d seen him you hadn’t stormed away and told him the two of you could never see each other again.
He follows you inside, and you quickly swipe Steve’s varsity jacket under your desk so he doesn’t see it. You don’t know why you still haven’t thrown it out but you really can’t be bothered to get into another fight with Ari over it.
Earlier in the day, Sharon had texted you asking if you’d wanted to hang out. You’d declined, finding the comfortability of your bed and the prospect of watching old reruns of trashy reality television much more interesting. What you hadn’t expected was Ari Levinson of all people showing up at your door, however. Although, you’re not too surprised. He was still texting you nonstop, wanting to show you how he’d “changed.”
Ari plops the picnic basket on top of your desk, and you sigh, sitting down on your desk chair while he grabs a stool. You already know how this is going to go. He’d tell you to open it, you’d say no, he’d say yes, you’d say no again. Then he’d open it and make you see the contents anyways. You decide to stop wasting either of your time and look inside the basket yourself.
“Cheese sandwiches?”
“Uh huh. And don’t knock it till you try one, sweetheart. My mom makes these for me.” Ari winks before flashing you a smile. And doesn’t contain even a hint of his usual cockiness or smugness – it’s just a regular little smile that makes his eyes light up all pretty too. And you’re not used to it at all, it looks almost displaced on his face. Was he being genuine? You can’t even tell anymore. But probably not.
You pick one up and eye it carefully, and your heart can’t help but throb at the thought of him standing in his kitchen making it for you. Big, bad basketball captain fuckboy Ari Levinson carefully cutting the sandwich into little triangles and packing it up for you in this little picnic basket. How had Ari even gotten hold of a picnic basket to begin with?
“So, it’s a family recipe?” You take a cautious bite.
“Yep. Passed down from generation to generation. Don’t ask me how you make it because it’s a Levinson family secret,” he grabs a sandwich of his own and wolfs it down in two bites, “I mean, you could always become a Levinson yourself and have my kid, then I’d tell you.”
Your cheeks heat up. Oh, a few weeks ago he didn’t even want a relationship with you and now he was joking about marriage and kids?! Would you ever understand him?
“It must be some recipe,” you remark, trying your best to keep your tone even and unamused. Instead of looking at him, you observe the sandwich. It tastes good – he’s used some type of expensive artisan bread and fancy cheese. A step above your average grilled cheese, and it tastes even better on an empty stomach since he was right, you hadn’t eaten anything since last night.
“It is. Have another one,” he thrusts another sandwich in your hand.
Your frown, “Ari, stop, I don’t want–”
“You haven’t eaten all day, (Y/N).” His tone drops, growing more serious.
“Well, stop acting like you care!” You shoot back.
But Ari looks unperturbed as he helps himself to a third sandwich (he was going through them remarkably fast), “I do care.”
“You don’t.”
“I do.”
“You don’t.”
“Yes, I fucking do,” he says, the slight sharpness in his voice taking you aback. “What other girl have I cooked for and lugged a fucking picnic basket halfway across campus for?”
You settle back begrudgingly, taking another bite out of the sandwich, “I’d hardly call this cooking.”
You know you sound mean and bitter, but it’s like you can’t help it. Like there’s a deep black hole filled with anger still swirling within you. Anger at both Ari and Steve and you don’t know how to sort through it or make it go away.
“Oh yeah? Well, you’ve never cooked for me so I’d say you’re hardly an expert on the subject.” Ari shoots back, grabbing another sandwich from the picnic basket as well as a can of soda. “You want a coke?”
“No.”
You start tearing your sandwich into tiny pieces just so you have something else to focus on and you don’t have to look at his face. Because you’re afraid this newfound earnesty of his, afraid it would reel you back in hook, line and sinker. Afraid he was just putting on an act to convince you he’d “changed.” That’s also why you’re being cold – you can’t let your walls down with him again. Not this time. Not when Sharon was literally your friend now.
“So, I was thinking we could catch a movie after we eat,” Ari continues talking all casually as if the majority of the conversation so far hasn’t been extremely one-sided. “Have you seen the new Godzilla vs Kong? Probably not, you’re not into stuff like that.” He pauses only to consume his sandwich in two huge bites, before grabbing another one. His voracious appetite almost makes you smile. Almost. The only other times you’d seen him look this starved was when he was going down on you…
No, stop! Don’t think about that!
“Sure, we could watch some girly movie instead, but you’d have to pick it because I have no idea about shit like that, obviously–”
“I told you; we can’t go anywhere that Sharon or someone might see us. Besides, the last thing I want to do is go out with you. In fact, you can show yourself out now because I’m gonna go back to bed–”
Ari slams his coke can down on your desk with a loud clunk. You jump, before narrowing your eyes at him. First, he practically broke into your room, then forced you to eat his dumb sandwiches. Now he was making obnoxious noises? Oh, you were just about done with him–
“That’s it.” he grunts, standing up to his full height. You gape up at him, suddenly nervous. You barely have the chance to yelp before he grabs your arm, yanking you up with him.
“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?!”
He lifts you up off the ground with ease, throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. You start pounding on his back immediately, but you only hear him snort in return.
“Put me down right now, Ari! I’m not in the mood for this! Put me down!”
“I gave you a pass to be a little sassy, but you need to remember who’s in charge.” He starts walking across the room. And you may as well have been an insect on his back with how unbothered he was by you wiggling and trying to fight out of his grip. Oh god, what was he going to do?!
Panic bubbles up in your chest, your heartrate increasing tenfold in about five seconds flat. You struggle harder against him, before realising there’s no use. He was way too strong. You shut your eyes and brace yourself; any moment now he’d throw you on the bed and have his way with you just like he always did, just like how Steve had tried to do, and you’d be powerless to stop him because you couldn’t stop anyone, and they all just wanted one thing, and–
“Please don’t,” you whisper, on the verge of tears, “Please, I can’t have sex. I don’t want to have sex, please don’t make me. Please, please don’t make me.”
Ari freezes, and you wish you could see his expression but in your current predicament, dangling over his shoulder, you cannot. But then he starts walking again, and he goes straight past your bed. That’s when you notice the picnic basket in his other hand.
“I’m not trying to sleep with you.” He mutters.
Oh. But then what was he doing?
You get your answer less than a moment later, when he swings your door open and carries you outside. That’s when you start punching his back again.
“Ari, take me back inside! I’m serious, okay? Someone’s gonna see–”
“Then I suggest you stop making so much noise that’s gonna attract attention towards us.” He shoots back, giving you a reprimanding pat on your thigh. Not your ass, you note, but your thigh. Immediately, you shut up. But you fix a scowl on your face, vowing you’d keep it there permanently until he could see it.
A minute later, he dumps you unceremoniously into the passenger seat of his car. By the time you scramble into sitting position, he’s already in the driver’s seat. The doors, predictably, are locked.
“So, it wasn’t enough that you barged into my dorm room uninvited. You felt the need to kidnap me, too?” You snap, irritated yet at the same time slightly amused. But you can’t let him know that. No, you had to maintain your ice queen persona.
“Please,” Ari snorts, starting up the car. “You were talking about going back to bed. If anything, I’m doing you a favour. It’s a nice day, sweetheart, let the sun shine on your face for a few hours.”
You deepen your scowl, crossing your arms over your chest, “I’m not going outside.”
“Yes, you are.”
“No, I’m literally not, Ari. Because you didn’t even think to let me put my shoes on.” You wiggle your bare toes, suddenly feeling the strong urge to smile at the ridiculousness of your whole predicament. But you pout to cover it up, suppressing whatever amusement you’re feeling because you don’t want him to see.
“Don’t fucking pout, it makes me want to kiss you.” Ari murmurs, keeping his eyes on the road but you can see him licking his lips.
“Don’t.”
“Did I say I was going to? I said I want to. There’s a difference.”
Again, you want to smile. You quickly turn your head away, looking out the window instead, watching the trees and buildings roll by as he drives you out of campus. “Whatever, just stay away from me.”
“Don’t be a brat.” There’s a warning edge to his tone, one that you’ve come to know very well. But surprisingly, you don’t feel unsafe. For once, you feel like maybe he won’t just stop the car in the middle of nowhere and try to fuck you.
You’ve been in Ari’s car before, and you’re no stranger to how it always goes when you’re in here. Back in the early days of you two hooking up, he’d pick you up in the dead of the night. And you were so innocent, you’d think of these midnight drives as romantic, magical even. He’d have a cigarette in his mouth, his long hair either slicked back or flowing in the cool night air. A wild look in his eyes as he’d pull you inside and kiss you headily while still trying to focus on the road. And he’d have one hand on your thigh, squeezing it before pushing his fingers between your legs.
In his hazy, smoke-filled car, you’d always find yourself underneath him. Splayed out in his backseat while he licked his lips and loomed above you. His dark silhouette so handsome, and you remember thinking how he was such a bad boy, and you were such a good girl, and how hot it was. He’d tell you how much he loved the tight little skirts you always wore, and yet he’d always rip them in half and then laugh and kiss you when you pouted. Tell you how he’d been waiting all day to fuck you, how he just couldn’t wait now that he had you, that he’d been thinking about you and him, that he just had to have you now.
You remember feeling like such a little girl compared to him. Ari was a senior after all, and you only a freshman. Once, you’d tried to impress him by wearing red lipstick. That night, he’d pulled you over the console and made you suck his dick. Till your red lip prints were all over his fat cock, and he’d told you how you were such a good girl, and he loved how cute you were, and that he knew you were trying to impress him.
All those nights in his car, and you remember each time you’d ask him if he’d broken up with Sharon, and each time he’d tell you that he was “working on it.” That he didn’t see a future with her, that you were so much more special. “I can’t stop thinking about you and I,” he’d say, blue eyes dreamy and you thought he sounded so earnest. And eagerly you’d say the same, excited that someone like him could ever be that interested in someone like you.
And then he’d push you into the backseat, or he’d stay in the driver’s seat and pull you into his lap. Or sometimes, if the place you were parked at was secluded enough, he would take you on the hood of his car. Fuck you in every way imaginable, use your body for his pleasure whilst also giving you the most intense pleasure you’d ever felt. And sometimes, the moonlight would reflect off his eyes and make him look like something so special, and you’d feel so special, and you’d feel like you were in a movie. You still remember it now.
You doubt Ari does, though. You doubt those nights were ever special to him.
“Where are we?” You ask fifteen minutes later when he pulls up somewhere. You peer out the window and see trees – a bunch of them. He’s parked in a clearing, only a single dirt road leading up to it and the rest of the area covered in a thick forest of trees. The sun sparkles through the leaves, and you can hear birds chirping louder than you ever do back in the city. “Are we in the woods?”
“Yep.” He’s out of the car in an instant, grabbing the picnic backet which he’d thrown haphazardly into the backseat before making his way to your door. “C’mon, let’s go.”
“If you think I’m going to hike out into the woods barefoot–”
Ari scoffs, “Don’t worry your pedicured little feet off, princess,” he turns around, “Hop on.”
You eye him carefully, as if you’re assessing a threat. Going into the woods with Ari of all people may not be the best of gameplans for someone who was actively trying to avoid men in general. When Steve had forced himself on you, it had been in his room and luckily Kira had been nearby. The secluded woods, however, were a completely different story.
And yet, it’s like you know deep down that Ari won’t do anything. Not this time. Then again, you’ve been wrong about him before. Were you being naïve all over again?
Maybe you were, but you hop on to his back anyways. His muscular arms catch you easily as you wind your legs around his waist. Your arms lock around his neck and you nestle close to him instinctively. So close that you can smell his grape shampoo, and you admire how pretty his hair is, how it curls up slightly at the base of his neck like he’s a movie star or something.
You hate how you’re still so attracted to him.
He gives you a piggyback ride all the way into the woods, and it’s kind of neat being up so high. Ari was so tall, and with you on his back you felt like you were six foot six inches too. So this is what he sees, you think to yourself, finally indulging in the nature that surrounds the two of you. The way the oak trees soar up as high as skyscrapers, how the smaller trees sway with the breeze. The rustling of the leaves, and you think you hear a distant trickling of water, too.
“It’s nice here, isn’t it?” Ari breaks the comfortable silence, continuing to trek forward into the woods.
You’re about to heartily agree, before you remember the cold persona you’re meant to be adopting with him. So, in the dullest, most bored and nonchalant voice you can muster up, you say: “It’s whatever, I guess.”
He snorts.
You frown, “Are you laughing at me?”
“Nope.” He sounds amused.
“Yes, you are!”
“Well, it’s cute how you’re trying so hard to be something you’re clearly not.”
You’re thankful that he can’t see the way your jaw drops open, “And what exactly do you think I’m trying to be?”
He shrugs, inadvertently bouncing you up and down on his back.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I like this sassy side of you. Especially since I know you’re still the same naïve little baby on the inside.” He looks back at you, and you catch a glimpse of his glittering eyes, framed by those impossibly long eyelashes.
“I am not!”
Ari chuckles, “You can act as tough as you want, it amuses me how cute you look when you do it.”
You scowl, despite the fact that his constant flirting was starting to thaw you from the inside out, making your cheeks burn and your mind feel more muddled than ever. What was the truth and what was a manipulation? This was him just trying to win you over so he could fuck you, right?? Or maybe, maybe he genuinely liked you… Maybe–
You forcibly make yourself scowl again, “Fuck you.”
“Say that again and I’ll drop you,” He threatens.
“Don’t you dare!” You squeal, winding your arms tighter around his neck, almost choking him.
He snickers as if he’s cracked the funniest joke in the world, before continuing to walk. The two of you settle into another spell of comfortable silence. You take in all the bushes full of wild berries, the pretty flowers that are luckily in full bloom, scenting the air with a sweet fragrance that tickles your nostrils pleasantly. Another gentle breeze has you relaxing more against Ari, and you’re almost about to nuzzle your face against his strong shoulder before you catch yourself and freeze.
“I discovered this place last year,” Ari announces five minutes later, gently setting you down on a patch of vibrant grass. To your delight, only a few feet away from you is a stream! The water flows and sparkles in the afternoon sunlight, rushing over rocks and plants and making a pleasant trickling sound that has an oddly calming effect on you. And the grass feels nice against your toes, so much so that you don’t even mind your bare feet on the ground.
You don’t say anything, just watching as Ari settles down beside you with the picnic basket. You stretch your limbs out, secretly happy that he brought you out here, that you didn’t spend another day rotting in bed.
“I found this place last year,” Ari repeats, “A few of us were camping nearby and I hiked out further away to see if I could get cell reception. That’s when I found this place.” He leans back, lying down completely with his arms crossed behind his head, “It’s nice and private here, huh?”
A thought enters your head, jolting you down to the core, “Private? So, this where you brought Sharon? Or your other hookups?”
“No. You’re the first person I’ve ever brought here.”
The straightforwardness of his answer jars you, and you find you have no quip or jab to respond with. Instead, hesitantly, you lie down too. A few inches away from him, but he makes no move to grab you or pull you closer. A large part of you is relieved, but you want to strangle the tiny part of you that’s disappointed that he’s not touched you.
“It’s nice.” You say finally.
“Yeah, I come here sometimes. To admire the nature or whatever.”
That makes you pause, and you look at him incredulously. He’s lying there with his eyes closed, yet he’s got a completely straight face.
“You? Admiring nature?”
Ari scoffs, “Is that so hard to believe?”
“Yes, actually.” You can’t imagine Ari of all people, who only cared about basketball, partying and sex, to be one with nature. Unless it was weed. “What aspect fascinated you the most?”
There’s a long beat of silence.
“I don’t know, the plants and shit?”
You can’t help but burst out laughing. And it feels good, to just let go and laugh for a bit. To just forget about how shitty you feel and just laugh. Even if it’s just for a moment, to just forget about how awful Ari’s been to you in the past, how awful Steve turned out to be too, just forget it all and allow yourself to laugh. And you can’t even remember the last time you laughed.
“Haha, very funny,” Ari rolls his eyes, but you can see the slight smile playing on his lips before he clears his throat. “Alright fine, I couldn’t give a fuck about nature. But I do like this place, it’s good for when I need to think.” He hesitates, “When I was dating Sharon, I felt like I never had the space to really think, and so I’d come here.”
You cease your laughter immediately at the mention of her name. Now that you were friends with Sharon, it made it a lot harder to talk about her with Ari. Because now, she was actually a person to you rather than some distant illusion that you tried not to think about. And it wasn’t her fault that Ari felt he couldn’t think with her around. She wasn’t the villain here, Ari was.
You clear your throat, heart suddenly beating very fast. “C-Could I ask you a question? And please don’t lie, okay? Just be honest with me, Ari. For once.”
He nods, not saying anything else.
“Were there others?” You ask hushedly, your tone wavering slightly as you voice the thought you’ve never wanted to speak into existence, never even dared to wonder about. “Was I just one of many girls that you were cheating on her with?”
Ari sits up, rubbing his temple. You watch him carefully, watch how his eyes scrunch shut before opening. He blinks several times, his lips pressed into a thin line before they part and he exhales slowly. Then, he turns your way, looking you dead in the eye.
“No. There were other girls before you, but once I slept with you, it was only you from then on out.”
“Yeah, me and Sharon.” You say bitterly, although the guilt is eating you up inside. You feel guilty for even feeling hurt or bitter, because he was never yours to begin with. Sharon was the girlfriend – she had every right to feel hurt and bitter. You? You were just the other woman. All you should be feeling was guilt and shame. Especially since here you were, out alone with him again when you’d vowed yourself you wouldn’t do this.
You sit back up too, and he makes a move to grab your hand but you shuffle away quickly. You hug your knees, resting your chin against them as you huddle into yourself. You can feel his gaze penetrating holes into you, but you only focus on the steady flow of water in the stream.
“Even with Sharon, it didn’t feel right sleeping with her. Not after I’d been with you.”
“Then why didn’t you break up with her?” Your voice breaks at the last second, and you turn away from him so he can’t see the lone tear that trails down one side of your face. Just a second ago you’d been laughing and now here you were, crying over the same question that had plagued your mind for months. The question that had been beaten to death, and yet you knew you’d never get a straight up, honest response.
Ari sighs, and you hear him moving closer to you. A second later, he takes hold of your chin, gently turning your face back to him.
“Hey, listen to me. I was an asshole, okay?” He sucks in a breath, closing his eye again for a handful of seconds. You want to look away but you can’t help but watch him, watch as he breathes, watch as he finally opens his mouth again. “Before you came along, I was this guy… This hotshot guy who could do whatever and everyone would just worship the ground I walked on. And, well, I guess I thrived on that. I liked how easily I could use women. I knew I had a girlfriend but I liked how I could get any girl to sleep with me–”
“I don’t want to hear this,” you mumble, pushing away from him.
“No, wait, I’m just trying to explain myself.” He runs a hand through his mane impatiently, “Look, I’ll admit it. All those times I strung you along, it was to feed my own ego. For a while, it felt like I was on top of the world, like I had two girls and neither of them knew any better, and–”
“Stop telling me this,” your voice hitches, more tears rolling down your cheeks.
“I was being a fucking asshole, that’s what I’m trying to say!” Ari grabs your hand as if to stop you from running away, a note of frustration in his tone. Or was it desperation? “I’ve never been good with voicing my feelings and all of that shit, but that’s what I’m trying to do right now. When I saw you with Steve, it’s like he was taking my girl, taking away everything I’ve always wanted. The night of the party, and then again at the game, when I saw you with him… It got me so fucking heated, and I’d never felt like that before. It felt like I was wasting my time in a relationship I clearly didn’t want to be in, and he was moving in on the girl I did want to be with.”
You look up at him, breathing heavily yet not daring to say a word.
“I’m sorry for lying to you, I’m sorry for using you. I’m sorry that it took you being with someone else for me to finally wake up and realise you’re the only one I’ve wanted this whole time.” His hand slips up to cup your cheek, and it’s like you’re frozen. You don’t know if you want to stop him or if you want to lean into his touch. You don’t know if this moment is even real. If this stream is real or if the woods are real or if Ari is real or if he really is saying everything you’ve ever wanted him to say.
“Why couldn’t you have said all this before?” You say shakily, afraid to look him in the eyes in case you see anything other than sincerity, in case you see even an inkling, even the tiniest spark of a hint that he was manipulating you.
“I was immature.” He continues to wipe your tears, before making you look up at him. “I was just so wrapped up in being the guy who could have any girl I wanted, but I promise you I’ve grown out of that now.”
“Really?” Your voice comes out so small, filled with hope mixed with a bit of hesitance.
Ari nods, “You said before that people don’t change overnight. But if you let me show you, I’ll prove to you that I have. And that I’m serious about us.”
Ice queen persona be damned. You feel more tears well up in your eyes. “Y-You are?”
“Yes. I wasn’t going to mention this but…” He runs a hand through his hair, brushing back a wayward lock that flops over his forehead, before taking hold of your hand, “There was an NBA scout at the last game. He said they want to sign me, that a lot of teams are eyeing me as a draft pick.”
Oh. The NBA. That put everything into perspective for you. He wasn’t like you, with three and a half years of college ahead of you. No, he was almost done… And then he’d be gone. You’re happy for him – the NBA was a huge deal after all. But you also feel a little sick, like time’s going by too quickly, like maybe you’re not ready to let go yet after all.
Your mind also briefly flits to Steve. Had he been approached by an NBA scout too? You think back to when you’d last seen him, outside your dorm room with the dark circles under his eyes, the withdrawn look on his face. He didn’t look like someone who’d just been scouted by the NBA. Oh God, were you feeling bad for him now?!
“Congratulations.” You say slowly, not really knowing how to feel. Suddenly, you’re hyper aware of Ari holding your hand, and now it’s like you don’t want him to let go.
“The reason I’m telling you this is because I have it all planned out. Our future.” Ari continues, looking more serious than you’ve ever seen him look. “I know you’ll still be in school, but I really think we could make it work. And by the time you graduate, I’ll have made it. We could settle down together, and I’d make it all up to you. That’s how serious I am about us.”
You simply just stare at him in complete awe. Who was this man? It was like an alien from outer space had taken over Ari’s body. Because the Ari Levinson you knew was a manipulator and a cheater. A man who stayed away from commitment with a ten-foot pole, a man who had just now professed to you that he enjoyed two-timing his girlfriend because it made him feel like he was on top of the world.
And yet… And yet you’re only just a girl, and you can’t help but picture the story his words are painting for you. Just indulge yourself a little bit, just a tiny little bit… You know you’re teetering on thin ice, and you know how dangerous it is to allow yourself hope when it comes to Ari. Hadn’t he squandered your hope time and time again for all those months he never made you his girlfriend?
But you can’t help but imagine, can’t help but think maybe this time he means what he says…
“We could buy a house in the countryside?” You whisper.
Ari cracks a smile, “Sure. And you could pop out a few Levinson babies too, make cheese sandwiches for all of them.”
“I’d have to establish myself as a model or a fashion designer before that.” You say, feeling the corners of your lips twitch upwards as you dare yourself to dream.
He looks amused, “Fashion designer, yes. Model, no. Too many pervy photographers.”
“I’ll be a model if I want to be one!”
“No.”
“Yes!”
“No way.”
“Yes way!”
“Fine. I’ll be in the NBA and you can be a model. Maybe. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” He chucks you under the chin playfully, like how he used to do all the time. And you giggle, feeling like you’re floating. Like the two of you are encased in a bubble and you’re floating and time’s standing still and just for this one moment you could pretend everything was alright and your future with him was as secure as he was making it out to be.
“And you’d never lie to me again?”
He nods, “I wouldn’t. Never again.” And then he takes a deep breath, “There’s this fundraising gala thing coming up, and I’m supposed to win an award. I’d love it if you could come with me as my date.” He says with a note of seriousness in his tone, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear.
But rather than let you answer, he instead cups your face with both hands, pressing his forehead against yours. Immediately, the smile on your face freezes, and now you can feel every pore, every muscle, every cell in your body screaming. Screaming for what? For him to kiss you? Oh God…
“Let me kiss you,” he breathes out of nowhere, sounding like he’s parched. “Please, baby. I know I’ve fucked up but I want to kiss you so bad right now.”
“Oh, Ari…”
“Please.”
You never thought you’d live to see the day where Ari Levinson was begging you for anything. It was such a stark contrast from how your relationship had begun, almost as if the tables had turned now. Were tables capable of turning that quickly? Or was this all part of an act? Oh, you’re sick of asking yourself that question! What’s real and true is that earnesty in his eyes, and you want to kiss him so bad too. So fucking bad.
He moves closer, and so do you. Inch by inch, almost like first-time lovers. His lips purse slightly, looking so warm and soft and inviting. Closer, so close that they brush against yours for a second, and you can hear him breathing and you know he can hear you too. You wonder if he can hear your heart too, hear how it beats louder for him than it does for anyone else.
“We shouldn’t…” you murmur, but your words are laced with doubt. Just one kiss, your mind cajoles you, just one kiss won’t hurt.
There’s a gentle breeze around the two of you, swirling softly. Rustling through his hair, feeling cool against your face. Encasing the two of you in a private whirlpool where it’s just you two, and the sound of the stream, and the beat of your hearts.
“I know, but I want to so bad,” Ari’s hands are cupping your face so tenderly, his thumbs stroking your cheekbones as he slowly angles your face upwards. “Please, let me kiss you. Just once.”
It’s like the breeze jostles you forward, as if the universe wants you to kiss him. Your willpower’s hanging on by just a thread, your mind swarming with memories of every time you and him had kissed in the past. How magical it had felt for you, how it felt like you could never find someone who’d kiss you like that again. Oh, fuck your willpower!
He surges forward one last time, but his lips have barely touched yours before you pull away, turning your head to the side. Breathing hard, the anticipation still burning through your body in waves. Heart beating like crazy, and yet you swallow and shake your head.
“Ari, we can’t,” you force yourself to say firmly.
Ari sits back, looking slightly dazed and yet running a hand through his hair in frustration. For a second, you wonder if he’ll be mad, call you a tease for leading him on. Call you a slut, tell you how the least you could do was kiss him in return for all he’d done for you today. But he just sighs thoughtfully.
“Not until I come clean to Sharon about everything,” You explain, “And I know about the gala, Sharon told me. I-I’m actually going with her and Wanda, like a girls’ night.”
He raises an eyebrow before nodding slowly, “Well, as long as I get to see you there when I go up on stage to accept the award.”
“Yeah, but we can’t talk or interact or anything. Sharon’s my friend now, and I owe her the truth before anything more can happen between us.”
Ari gazes at you carefully, but there’s a hopeful glint in his eye. “So, it’s just the Sharon issue then. You forgive me for everything else?”
You hesitate. Well, did you? Did you forgive him for leading you on? Lying to you multiple times? Manipulating you? Leaving you drunk and high and alone in a party bathroom? God, why did he have to remind you of the asshole he’d been all this time, up until very recently? It pops the bubble your mind has created right now, the one that you and him were encased in, in this little clearing in the woods.
“I don’t know if I forgive you.” You say honestly, hoping he doesn’t question you further.
To your surprise, he doesn’t. Instead, he lies back down on the grass, stretching his long limbs out to make himself comfortable. You watch him as he lazily grabs another cheese sandwich from the picnic basket, wolfing it down before offering you one. Stifling a smile, you shake your head.
Ari shrugs, “Well fine, more for me.”
And it’s later, after the two of you sit there by the stream in comfortable silence for a little while longer. After he’s piggy-backed you back to his car, and after he’s driven you back home. It’s when he’s pulling up to your building, that he puts his hand on your knee to make you look at him.
“I know you said before that nobody changes overnight, but that doesn’t mean I won’t stop trying until you see that I have.” He says firmly, his hand feeling so warm on your leg, causing heatwaves to radiate up and down your whole being. “And I know you, baby. I know you like me too. I know you want this to work out between us too. And it will. Once you tell Sharon, and we’re free to be together, everything’s gonna work out. You’ll see.”
Oh, he was so cocky! And yet, it’s a different type of cockiness than what you’ve usually come to associate with him. It’s more of an honest sincerity, this confidence that one day you’ll be his. And oh, you want to believe him! You really do! You want to believe in a perfect world where Ari proves himself to be more than just a manipulative fuckboy, a world where Sharon understands and forgives you for everything.
A world where you forget all about Steve Rogers, and never find yourself thinking about him… Thinking about what could have been.
You say nothing, not until he’s carried you back into your dorm room. Not until he’s about to leave. That’s when you speak.
“Ari?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
He looks surprised, as if he hadn’t really been expecting you to say anything at all after his whole speech. The truth was, you’d been silent for a while now, ever since the two of you had almost kissed in the woods. But there’s a newfound serenity inside you, a feeling that wasn’t there before.
“For what?” He asks, a shy little smile on his face. One you’ve never seen on him before.
For bringing me outside. For taking me to your special place. For not making a big deal out of it when I didn’t want to kiss you. For carrying me. For not losing your patience with me. For making me laugh. For making me smile again.
“For the cheese sandwiches.”
***
The night of the gala is cold for springtime, the blustering winds revving up and roaring to life. Looking outside your window, you can see the smaller trees swaying roughly against the unforgiving nature of what looks to be the beginnings of a windstorm. It gives you a peculiar foreboding feeling, listening to the ominous whistling of the winds, so loud as if they’re warning you. You back away from your window, and yet something inside you doesn’t close it and lock it as you know you should.
You float back over to your vanity table, feeling pretty in your new dress that you and Sharon had gone shopping for, just how she’d promised. You haven’t felt this pretty in a long time, and as you gaze at your reflection, you feel another pang of foreboding. Quickly, you busy yourself with powdering your nose and fixing your hair, wondering if maybe you should have agreed to get ready with Wanda and Sharon after all. You’d told them you wanted some alone time before the busyness of the gala. Some time to yourself where you could draw a bubble bath, and then shave and pluck and preen and pamper yourself till you felt somewhat ready for the big night out.
And it had made you feel better, your solo pamper session. Sure, your thoughts had spun into overdrive as they always did. Replaying all your recent interactions with Ari, with Steve, even with Sharon. The reflection made you chuckle at one point, because when had your life become so like a tumultuous soap opera? With secrets and lies and betrayal and deceit coming from all corners?
A loud gust of wind knocks you out of your reverie, and again you feel it. The feeling that something big is swirling up in the atmosphere, like the howling wind itself is trying to warn you that soon, it would all come to head.
“Fuck you! Try an’ scratch me again and see what happens!”
Your head snaps up at the sound of the familiar male voice. And it’s the proximity that makes your heart skip a beat. The voice sounded close, like it was coming from mere feet away from you. Fearfully, you look back at your window, only to see that same angelic face you know so well seemingly levitating outside.
“Steve?” You whisper, blinking several times. He doesn’t seem to hear you, and you wonder whether you’re imagining things. Slowly, you venture forward, back to your window which lies open. And that’s where you find him, standing on the ledge outside of your bedroom window which was two storeys high.
Steve whacks a wayward branch that looks to be tangled in his jacket. And his movements are oddly sluggish as he flips the bird at the tree adjacent to your building which the brand is attached to. “Damn stupid fuckin’ tree, tryna pick a fight with me,” he mutters before his eyes fall on you, and they brighten up instantly, “Hey, baby girl, fancy seeing you here!”
And then he bursts into a fit of giggles, while you just stare at him in awe, your mind still not having come to terms with the fact that Steve had somehow climbed all the way up to your window. In the dark. With the wind blustering insanely around him. Warily, you peek downwards, heart jumping all the way up to your throat when you see how he’s just casually balancing on the extremely thin ledge, the street below looking very minuscule with how high up your floor was.
“How did you get up here?” You breathe, still half in shock that he’s here that you forget how explosively your last encounter with him had gone down.
“Who, me?”
“Yes, of course you. Who else!?”
He shrugs, “Scaled that tree over there, then it decided to scratch me so I fought it off an’ jumped onto the ledge. Now here I am!” He ends his explanation with a flourish that causes him to stumble backwards. It almost happens in slow motion; you don’t even have a chance to react to what you’re seeing. But he catches his balance again just in time, grinning up at you mischievously.
“Whoops!” He laughs heartily, a type of laugh you’ve never really heard from him before. He shuffles along the ledge till he finds a spot he’s more comfortable with, leaning in through your window and shooting you a smile, “almost fell to my death there, didn’t I?”
“Steve, you need to get back down. You’ll hurt yourself.” You bite your lip, wondering whether you should let him in through your window just so he’d be safe. But the thought of being alone with him within the four walls of a bedroom again gives you the creeps, and so you refrain.
“Maybe I want to hurt myself,” he answers, staring at you almost quizzically. His lips are full, his cheeks flushed. His hair looks longer and even more unkempt than last time, that stubble still on his face, his eyes dark and unfocused. It was weird, because you’d always known Steve to be meticulously well-groomed and almost preppy with his clean-cut good looks. He was still handsome as ever now, but he looks darker, almost tortured, with dark bags under his eyes and even his cheeks looked kind of hollow.
“I’m serious, climb back down.”
“I just wanted to see you again,” he breathes softly, and his entire expression morphs to tender as he reaches out to touch your face. “And I knew you wouldn’t let me in the normal way.”
You can’t help but flinch away, and he sighs, bringing his hand back down to grip at your windowsill, “You’re so pretty.”
That’s when you smell it. Vodka. Suddenly, his erratic behaviour makes a lot more sense. His pupils are dark and blown out, and he’s swaying dangerously on the spot.
“You’re drunk, Steve.”
“Nah,” he bats his hand dismissively, but with such force that he stumbles forward. And again, your heart lurches in your throat, thinking he’s going to fall. But lithely, he grabs on to something or the other, regains his balance, and flashes you another smile, “okay, maybe a little bit. But being drunk helps.”
You frown, not knowing whether to feel scared or concerned, “What do you mean?”
He shrugs, “Helps to forget all the shitty stuff.”
A wave of anger passes through you, “Shitty stuff? You mean like all the awful things you said to me when you tried to force yourself on me?” Hell, maybe you should be the one drinking if it meant you could forget how he’d called you an easy slut.
Steve bows his head, still swaying slightly, “I’m so sorry, baby.”
“Don’t call me baby.”
“Okay. I’m sorry, sweetie.”
“Stop it, Steve. I’m serious.”
He sighs again, “So am I. I hate how I lose control like that. It’s like I zone out, and something takes over me and I’m there on fucking standby. Watching this one version of myself lash out and say all these shitty things an’ I can’t do anything to stop it. And when I zone back in, it’s too late an’ I can’t take anything back.”
He explains with surprising eloquence, despite being so drunk. And God, why did he have to look all rugged and heartbroken right now? Dismissing him would be so much easier if he was ugly.
There’s an emotion swelling up inside you as you look at him now, but you try to suppress it. Instead, remembering your ice queen persona, you cross your arms over your chest and force yourself to narrow your eyes. “Is that your explanation? That you zoned out? Because honestly, the lack of accountability–”
“I don’t think you’re a slut,” Steve interrupts you, “you’re sweet, and beautiful, and innocent. That’s what I thought the night I first saw you. And sure, I guess I used you because I was trying to get back at him–”
You flinch. There it was again. The reminder that Steve had indeed used you. And you’d fallen for it… Hook, line and sinker.
“–but at least I’m honest enough to admit it. Doesn’t that count for something?”
He finishes, blinking up at you with large eyes framed with those impossibly thick lashes, as if waiting for you to respond. When you don’t, he sighs, swaying again as another strong gust of wind attacks from the outside.
“I like you a lot, okay? I know I haven’t known you as long as he has, but it doesn’t matter. I think what we have is special.” He swallows, his eyes squinting as he searches across the plains of your face, either trying to gauge your thoughts or trying to come up with the right words to say next. “And I know I fucked it up because that’s what I always do. So fuck it, I don’t care anymore.”
He shoves his hand inside his jacket, conjuring up a glass bottle of Gray Goose vodka out of what seems to be thin air. Your jaw drops open as you watch him take a hearty swig from it – and it was already half empty!
“Okay, that was a lie. I do still care.” He wipes his mouth roughly, stumbling about and still very much on the window ledge. “There’s just so much going on inside my head,” he says, and he demonstrates by smacking the side of his head with his open palm, “School, basketball, taking care of Kira – all of it just keeps building up. And I try my best, okay?” He loses his footing and sways some more, “but it’s never enough, and all my thoughts get louder and louder, like voices fucking screaming inside my head, and then I just explode. And I get so fucking angry, and it’s always directed towards the wrong people – whoops!”
He slips. You cry out in terror and impulsively grab hold of his arm. But he regains his balance and barks out a laugh, as if he’s tripped whilst taking a simple stroll in the park and not currently balancing on top of a very high and very dangerous ledge.
“It wouldn’t matter if I fell, you know?” He muses, taking another long swig of the vodka. And he doesn’t even flinch as the bitter liquid goes down his throat, as if the taste no longer has any effect on him. “I mean, my life’s a fucking mess already. Basketball’s completely fucked, anyways…”
“What do you mean?” You ask, your heart pitter-pattering in fear. His overtly reckless behaviour is scaring you, and you realise you’re holding your breath as you watch him callously standing there.
Steve shrugs, “Got kicked off the team today.”
Oh. You feel a surge of pity. And you know you shouldn’t. Not after how he treated you. And yet you can’t help it. Tonight, Ari was going to win an award for being the best basketball player of the season, and in the summer, he was going to the NBA. You can’t help but feel for Steve’s starkly different fortune.
He takes another gulp of vodka, “Coach said I couldn’t control my emotions and I’d keep costing the team if I continued playing.” He gazes off into the distance, and you try to gauge his expression but it’s quite unreadable. He laughs bitterly and smiles again, but it looks more like a grimace, “Fuck him. He’s right, but fuck him anyways.”
“Steve, this is dangerous. You could fall–”
“Fuck basketball,” he continues swaying around like he hasn’t even heard you, “it’s not like I was ever gonna make it to the NBA, anger issues or not. No, I have to become a surgeon. Like my parents.” His words slur and ring with sarcasm, and he barks out another laugh, “If I don’t fuck that up too…”
“I’m sorry that happened, but–”
He scoffs, “Can’t even fucking imagine being a doctor. My patients would probably be scared of me, just like how you are.”
“Please, just get down–”
“And Kira…” His expression morphs from bitter to sad in less than a second, and he clutches your hand suddenly. The one that you hadn’t realised was still holding on to his arm. And you don’t pull away, almost like you don’t want to. Either that, or you want to keep hold of him so he doesn’t fall.
Steve coughs, “God, I wish I took care of her better. I feel so fucking guilty, living on campus while she lives by herself in our house. Our parents are never home, they don’t even know what she went through… How she doesn’t even speak to anyone but me, how she doesn’t go out anymore...”
Another long swig. It’s a wonder the bottle isn’t empty yet. You want to interject, beg him once more to climb back down to safety, or at least hand you the vodka so he doesn’t drink anymore. But he’s not done speaking, and cuts you off when you try to get a word in edgewise.
“My parents, the award-winning heart surgeons!” He raises the vodka bottle up in the air in a mock toast, “They’re here, there, everywhere around the fucking world!” Another swig, more swaying. “Everywhere except for at fucking home. So then I have to handle everything, don’t I?”
“Steve–”
“They don’t even know how bad she’s gotten, how their own daughter’s shut herself off from everyone.” Steve shakes his head in both resignation and frustration, “and I try so fucking hard, okay? Try to help her with her anxiety, help her make new friends. God, all I do is worry about her. And school. And basketball. While they jet across the world doing their fancy surgeries and not giving a damn about her or me. Fuck them!”
Whoa. Wow. Okay. Now, you look at Steve with new eyes – you had no idea there was so much going on in his life, in his head. It still didn’t excuse the way he’d spoken to you, the way he’d forced himself on you – and yet… Yet you can’t help but feel another pang of sorrow and pity for him.
His eyes are dark and stormy as he looks out into the early evening sky, before looking back to you. His gaze falls down to your hand holding on to his arm, and he smiles softly.
“You were the only thing in my life that was good.”
You shake your head, your barriers going back up, and you try to pull your hand away, “No. Stop lying, Steve, just don’t even try it, don’t even–”
“No, it’s true!” He insists, holding on tightly to your hand as if he’s on a sinking ship and you’re his only lifeline. “That one week before I fucked it all up, that one week when we were just texting. I’d be on my phone, smiling like a fucking fool. You can ask Kira! She knew about you because I couldn’t stop talking to her about you.”
You bite your lip, and despite everything, you find yourself wanting to believe him so bad. Suddenly, a strong gust of wind has Steve clutching your hand even harder as he teeters on the ledge, bringing his face closer to yours, his eyes hooded and lashes fanning over those impossibly sharp cheekbones.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says.
“Don’t, Steve…”
He sighs, breaking eye contact as he plays with the glass bottle in his hand. But his other hand seems to move off its own accord, his pointer finger trailing up your bare arm. And it’s so intimate, that simple touch, leaving a trail of fire and goosebumps in its wake. Your skin feels like it’s buzzing, burning almost, as he traces his finger up your shoulder blade, as if he’s testing to see how much you’d let him touch you.
“I miss you.”
You feel your resolve crumbling…
“No, you don’t. All we did was text for one week. We never even went on a date, so you can’t possibly miss what you never had.”
“And yet I still miss you.”
He leans in, his eyes fluttering shut. His lips look so pink, so warm, so hesitantly inviting. Slightly pursed, as if he doesn’t know if it’s going to happen but he’s going to try anyways. Another sharp gust of wind blows past, almost pushing him into you as if even the universe itself is cajoling you to just give in to him. You can smell the alcohol on his pores, and yet you can also feel his warmth, his musky cologne, the way his breath hitches as if he can’t believe this kiss is actually happening…
Except you turn your head at the last second, and he sighs.
“Should’ve seen that coming,” he says to the evening sky, “lost my place on the team, lost my girl, I wonder what I’ll lose next? You wanna take any guesses? Hey, maybe I’ll lose my balance! That would be funny, wouldn’t it?”
You watch as he looks down, all the way down to the ground with a peculiar gleam in his eye. The type of gleam that reflects that he’s a man with nothing to lose. And it’s a long way down. What the hell was he thinking?!
“He really fucked her up,” Steve murmurs softly to himself, a whisper that almost gets lost in the great gusts of wind that swirl around the two of you. “And I tried to do something about it, tried to get back at him, but I fucked it up. I always fuck up. Maybe it’s best if I just–”
“Steve, stop it! Stop being so reckless!”
You tug hard at his arm, and at the same time a heavy wind blows. Steve stumbles again, but mercifully, he falls forward instead of back. Through your window and right on top of you. You both land on the floor with a thud, and despite how drunk he is, he manages to bring his hands out in front of him, preventing you from getting crushed by his huge frame.
“Whoops. Sorry, baby.”
He flashes you a cocky smile, as if he hadn’t just been teetering on your window ledge in the middle of a sad, drunken rant. The bottle of vodka is still snugly clutched between his fingers, somehow having also survived the fall onto your hard bedroom floor.
You open your mouth to tell him to get off of you, but the words die inside your throat. Instead, you look up at him, at his face so close to yours. So close that his nose is an inch away from brushing against your own. And his eyes, navy and blown out and yet still so pretty, blink down at you imploringly. The last time, when you’d been in his bedroom, they’d looked so stormy and far away. And here, now, he was drunk and yet he looked present. And you realise that you don’t feel unsafe at all.
“I really, really want to kiss you right now,” Steve says, slurring and stumbling over his words.
“Don’t.” You warn him, although you notice your own lack of conviction. In that moment, had he actually done it you don’t think you’d have objected too much. But you don’t want to give in to him, not after how scary he’d been last time. Despite everything, you still haven’t forgotten.
He nods slowly, “I know, fuck, I know…”
Shakily, he gets off of you, swaying slightly as he gets on his feet, and then he yanks you up too. Before you can stop him, he takes another swig of vodka before his eyes once again settle on you.
You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows hard, biting his lip as his dark eyes drink you in. In your form-fitting emerald dress that wraps around your body like a second skin of smooth satin. The ruching which accentuates your curves even more, the delicate lace detailing, the smooth dip of your cleavage. The gleam of your bare legs that peak through the slit of the dress. The demure heels that makes them look longer than ever. And yet you can’t help but shift shyly under his intense gaze.
“You’re all dressed up,” Steve says softly, reaching out to touch you before thinking better of it, curling his outstretched hand into a fist and pushing it down to his side, “You look… incredible.”
“Th-Thank you.”
“You going somewhere?”
“Uh… yes.”
He nods before his brow furrows, “Is he taking you out?”
“What–?”
“Levinson. Is he taking you out? Are you two together now?” His tone hardens, and you feel your heart jump up to your throat. Oh, please let him not get all angry again like how he did last time!
“No.” You say firmly, “There’s this gala, this fundraiser thing at the Hilton Hotel. That’s where I’m going. Me and Sharon and Wanda.”
“No Levinson?”
You shake your head, “N-No, Steve.” It was only white lie, because you weren’t going with Ari and you probably wouldn’t speak to him tonight. It was a girl’s night out, if anything. Plus, you’re scared that Steve might flip out if he knew that Ari would be there too.
“You promise?” He looks at you meaningfully, and he’s got that same intense look again. The look you’ve grown to associate with him, that eery, almost glassy stare. “Promise me, Y/N. Promise me that you aren’t going out with Ari.”
You don’t owe him anything, certainly not any promises. And yet, yet you can’t help but nod, “I promise, Steve. In fact, Sharon and Wanda are on their way to pick me up.”
Steve nods approvingly, looking somewhere beyond you. His eyes look sad once again, and he takes another long, lingering sip of vodka. “Good girl. You stay away from him, okay? All he does is hurt people.” He shakes his head, his mouth pulling downwards in a grimace, “He hurt her so bad.”
You frown, “Hurt who? Sharon?”
The blond doesn’t answer, but he continues talking to himself. “What did she ever do to him? He didn’t give a damn about her, and now look at her…”
You feel an uneasy wave of guilt, “You mean Sharon, don’t you? I know…”
Steve frowns, opening his mouth to answer you before he grows distracted by something beyond your shoulder. A slow smile spreads across his face, and he stumbles over to your desk in the corner of the room.
“My jacket!” He grabs the blue and white varsity jacket he’d given you the night of the party, “You still have it. You kept it.”
“You can take it back!” You say quickly, a bit too quickly judging by how his face falls. Quickly, he drops the jacket as if it’s made of hot coals, a bitter look enveloping his features.
“You should throw it away. Or burn it.” He says simply, throwing his head back and taking a hearty sip of his vodka, “thought you would’ve looked cute wearing it to one of my games but I since I won’t be playing anymore, there’s no point anymore, is there?”
What follows is an uncomfortable silence. And oh, why was he making you feel bad for him now?! After everything he’d said and done? But then he’d apologised too… Were you being too hard on him? Now you feel more confused than ever!
You sigh, “Steve… Look, I just don’t know how to act around you. One second, you’re so intense, and you’re calling me a slut, and you’re being all scary. And then the next it’s like your entire personality changes. And I just… I don’t know what to believe, okay?”
“Why can’t you just believe that I’m sorry for what happened? I’m sorry for all of it.”
You shift uncomfortably, looking down at your heel-clad feet. You wrack your brain, trying to choose your next words carefully, “I… do believe that you’re sorry.”
He stands there expectantly, as if waiting for you to say something more, to say that you forgive him, perhaps? But you don’t think you do. Do you? A few more empty seconds pass before he clears his throat.
“They put me on some kind of medication. Added it to the ones I already take.” He volunteers, breaking the silence. He avoids your gaze now, instead focusing on his bottle of vodka, tossing it from one hand to the other and tapping at the glass. “For my anger and mood swings, or whatever.”
You nod, “That’s good, right? You saw a doctor?”
He snorts, “No. My parents just heard about me flipping out and contacted the family physician Got him to prescribe me all these different pills. But this,” he raises the vodka up in the air and waves it around, “This helps more than any medication ever could. It stops all the screaming in my head. And luckily, Mom and Dad left the house full of booze, so I’m all good to go.”
You nod slowly, furrowing your brow, “Steve, maybe you shouldn’t be drinking while you’re on medication–”
Your phone vibrates loudly from its place on your bed, the sound shaking you from the inside out. Even Steve blinks several times, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding as you make your way over to your phone. It’s like the bubble of intensity the two of you have been encased in has popped, and now you’re back in the real world. It was crazy, because being inside the bubble felt intoxicating, like everything was moving in slow motion, like you were in some sort of fairytale and the troubled prince had just climbed in through your window.
Your screen glows with a new text.
Sharon: We’re on our way! Wanda’s already so drunk lol we’ll be there in ten minutes!
Oh no. You’d rather your friends didn’t run into a drunken Steve Rogers when they came to pick you up. Especially not when you were supposed to have sworn off men anyways.
“Steve, you–”
“–I need to go,” he completes sombrely, picking at a piece of loose thread on the sleeve of his expensive-looking sweater, “I know, I know.” His eyes narrow, “That wasn’t Ari, was it? Who texted you just now?”
“No.”
He relaxes, “Good. Okay, I guess I’ll leave then.”
You chew your bottom lip anxiously, “H-How will you get back? You didn’t drive here yourself, did you?”
He waves your question off as if it isn’t important, backing away towards your door, “You don’t worry about me, sweetheart.”
“Steve Rogers, don’t you dare drive back home in the state you’re in!”
He just stares at you, that same bittersweet look on his face. Finally, he nods, “I’ll be fine. I came here with Bucky.”
You nod, “Okay, then. As long as you don’t drive…”
Steve shoots you a sad smile, one that doesn’t really reach his eyes. His eyes that are still glued on just you, only you. He crosses his hand over his chest, “I promise I won’t. Scout’s honour… Although I was never a scout, so who knows if you can take my word. Ha ha.”
He finally makes it to your door, almost as if he’d been walking in slow motion, wading through quicksand. Why? Because he didn’t want to leave? And you feel a lump in your throat, one that won’t go no matter how many times you swallow. There’s an odd yearning inside you, like an itch on your hand. No, an itch in your heart. Your fingers twitch as if wanting to reach out to touch him. Did you not want him to leave, either?
You press your lips together, rooting yourself in place as you watch him go. At the last second, he turns back around again.
“I am sorry, okay? Sorry about everything.”
Once more, all you do is nod. The expectancy in his eyes fades away and he sighs, his hand resting on the doorknob as he goes to shut the door.
A second passes. But it feels like the longest second you’ve ever lived. Like your heart seems to beat about a thousand times in that one second, like a drum reaching crescendo. Feeling like you’ve reached that part in the movie, that page in the book where the climax happens and then everyone can breathe again. Outside, the winds seem to be charging up again, readying themselves for an almighty, blustering blow. And you can feel the booming whistle of the winds ringing all around you, when you suddenly drop your phone on your bed and rush over to the door before you can think better of it.
“Steve, wait!”
You press your lips to his in a searing kiss, catching him completely off-guard. He stumbles back slightly, either by how strongly you’ve jumped on him or because of his own inebriation. Either way, he recovers quickly, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you against him as he reciprocates your kiss.
And you don’t know why you’re kissing him, but it’s like your body’s gone past the point of rationale. Like your lips and your limbs have a mind of their own and your brain is no longer part of the conversation. And Steve’s lips feel so soft, and this time you feel like it’s you in control. He’s too drunk to take charge, you suspect, as his lips move languidly against yours.
Your hands cup his face, his bristly skin pricking the pads of your fingers, and yet it doesn’t bother you. Not when he’s kissing so softly, so cautiously like he’s afraid he could hurt you again. It’s you who presses your tongue against his, stroking it, biting and nipping at his lips. He smirks at your overexcitement, finally injecting more passion into the kiss by tipping your head back slightly and pressing his lips harder against yours.
He tastes like vodka, but you don’t mind. He also tastes kind of sweet, kind of irresistible. And oh, you know this makes no sense! And you know you shouldn’t be kissing him! What about Ari? What about your own dignity? What about swearing off all men? What about–?
You pull away as abruptly as you’d kissed him, and both of you stand there breathless for a handful of seconds. Your lips still tingle pleasantly, and before he can say anything, you gently pry the bottle of vodka from his hand.
“I’ll keep this, okay?” You say softly, holding it behind your back. There’s still quite a bit left in it, and Steve looks like he’s one sip away from disaster. Or at least a very bad headache tomorrow morning. You pray it’s only the latter.
But he’s got a sparkle in his eye now, and he doesn’t spare the vodka a second glance, “It all went away for a second.”
“What went away?”
“All the fucking screaming in my head. All that pressure I was telling you about. Kissing you made it all go away. Your lips are magic, baby girl. Better than the vodka.”
“Oh.” You don’t know what else to say, but you feel a lurching pull in your heart nonetheless.
“Yeah, like I’m numb to it all now. Comfortably numb. And it’s such a fucking relief.” He closes his eyes for a second, as if he’s savouring the feeling. You’re so intently looking at him that you don’t even notice when he grabs your hand, and his eyes flutter open, “So you forgive me?”
You hesitate, “Steve, I…I don’t know.”
His serene smile freezes on his face, and he drops your hand like it’s a hot poker. You feel it again in your heart, that lurching fee ling that you can’t place. You watch as his face falls, almost in slow motion. And it feels like you’re sitting front row in the cinema, watching his expression turn sad, his eyes clouding over once more like he was depending everything on your forgiveness.
“Okay. Goodbye.”
He stumbles out of your room, out into the stairwell where he trips before grabbing on to the banister.
“Steve, please be careful,” you say again, your tone laced with worry.
He glances back at you, that ever-charming smile back on his face. Back from when you’d seen it that first night when you’d met him. Almost like he’s put on a mask. He gives you a sluggish thumbs-up, “I’ll be fine. I’m comfortably numb, remember? I just hope it lasts…”
What the hell did that mean? Should you go after him? You hear your phone vibrate loudly, and you glance back at your bed to see it glowing with several new texts. But then you look back at the stairwell to find it empty. He was gone. Gone like a gust of wind. Gone like he was never there.
But he was. You can still feel him on your lips.
As if in a dream, you float back into your room and pick up your phone. Two new texts.
Sharon: We’re five minutes away! Traffic’s crazy lol.
Ari: Hey. I just want to say that I’m happy you’re coming tonight. Even if we don’t get to speak, just know you’ll be on my mind all night. Fuck. That was cheesy. Anyways. See you there :).
You sink down on your bed, already feeling exhausted and mentally drained. Despite the fact that the night was nowhere near over yet. In fact, it hadn’t even begun.
***
“Where’s Curtis?” Wanda wonders aloud, scanning the sprawling banquet hall and immediately grabbing a flute of champagne from an elegantly dressed waiter holding a tray full of them.
The banquet hall where the gala is being held at the Hilton is reasonably full, and you recognise a bunch of familiar faces from campus – both students and professors. Everyone’s dressed smartly – the men in tuxedos and the women in evening gowns and dresses. Sharon and the decorating committee have done a great job; each table swathed in ivory cloth, with red rose centrepieces and golden gilded chairs. Matching golden lights against an otherwise dark room gives an almost ethereal ambiance.
“He’s probably over on table 2 with the rest of the basketball team,” Sharon nods to a table at the front of the room near the stage. “I did the seating arrangements and the place-cards.”
Predictably, table 2 is the rowdiest table in the entire banquet hall. Clearly, the basketball team didn’t give two fucks about what was considered proper black-tie etiquette. You can see Ransom Drysdale and Andy Barber having some kind of a drinking competition, chugging down wine glass after wine glass as if they were cans of beer. Lloyd is acting like their referee, half on top of the table as he tries eggs them on. Colin is laughing his head off as he looks to be live-streaming this whole performance on his phone. And then there’s Ari.
And oh, he looks so breathtaking! Your heart physically skips a beat when you see him. His brown hair slicked back sexily, but the ends curling around his stiff white collar. His tuxedo looks well-tailored and expensive – Armani probably – and a white bow tie that makes him look more handsome than ever. He’s sat in the middle of his table, looking very much like the leader of his group. A smirk on his face as he watches his teammates horse around, but then his eyes meet yours, and the cocky smirk turns into the most adorably lovesick smile that does not look like it belongs on his face – only because you’ve never really seen him smile like that ever before.
“Oh gosh, there’s Ari,” Sharon says, coming up closer to your side and making you snap your eyes away from her ex-boyfriend immediately. The blonde takes a few deeps breaths to calm herself, “And he’s looking straight at me! Well, who cares? I’m not gonna let him affect my night. In fact, I’m gonna go over to him to prove how unbothered I am–”
Before you know what’s happening, she starts making a beeline straight over to table 2 – with you in tow! Wanda follows, her eyes still searching the room for Curtis as she downs her champagne quickly.
“Hello, Ari,” Sharon says stiffly, hanging on to your arm for dear life. You hope you don’t look as mortified as you feel, watching as Ari looks up at the two of you, his charming little smile still on his face.
“Hi.” He answers her, giving her a quick nod before his eyes shift to you, and you see them sparkle as he looks you up and down, taking in your emerald dress, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards again in another sweet little smile. Oh God, damn him for being so obvious!
“Well, I just came here to congratulate you on your award,” Sharon says, a determinedly happy-yet-nonchalant look plastered on her face. “So, well, congratulations.”
Ari nods again, physically tearing his eyes away from you, “Thanks.”
“Where’s Curtis, you guys?” Wanda interrupts the awkward exchange, looking expectantly at the basketball team. You watch as she grabs another champagne from another cocktail waiter who happens to pass by, downing it as quickly as she had the first.
Ransom snickers, “He’s somewhere around here, sweetheart. But I wouldn’t bother him if I was you, he’s kinda busy.”
Wanda doesn’t even wait for him to finish his sentence before she’s off, weaving across the banquet hall at lightning speed. You watch her, mildly concerned as she grabs yet another glass of champagne, her previous one still in her other hand. She’d been antsy the whole ride over, because apparently Curtis wasn’t texting her back, and hadn’t since last night.
“She’s already a mess,” Sharon murmurs to you under her breath before smiling brightly at Ari, “Well, see you around, Ari.”
He nods at her for the third time, before his eyes rest on you once more. There’s a hint of yearning within them, and his lips twitch as if he wants to say something. Oh, when did it get so easy to read his expressions? Did you know him that well now? He gives you a soft, private smile – one you know is meant just for you. One that seems to convey a thousand words in just a single twitch of a muscle. You almost return it, before remembering who you’re with.
“Thank God, he didn’t bring her,” Sharon mutters to you as the two of you walk away from jock table.
“Huh?”
“The little skank he cheated on me with. I would’ve died if he brought her along as his date.”
You gulp, eyeing one of the champagne flutes yourself. After tonight, you absolutely had to come clean to Sharon. There was no other choice, you’d kept this secret long enough. And if it meant she’d no longer be your friend, then so be it. You deserved that. But no more excuses, you had to tell her tonight after this event was over.
And the event itself is fine. You hang out with Sharon while she makes small talk with a bunch of different people. You don’t talk much, simply staying quiet and observing. People’s outfits, their makeup, their shoes, everything. It’s nice to be out and about again, after spending what felt like an eternity rotting in your dorm room and feeling sorry for yourself. You even find yourself catching Ari’s eye every now and again, and each and every time he’d give you his sweet little private smile that made you want to die. You’d look away, of course, or busy yourself with talking to Sharon or someone else, just so you wouldn’t smile back. Even though you wanted to. You really, really wanted to.
You do get a handful of texts from him though.
Ari: You look beautiful.
Ari: I can’t take my eyes off you.
Ari: Seriously, I don’t think you realise how beautiful you look right now.
You don’t reply, but you know he can see you looking down at your phone and smiling like crazy.
About a half hour into the gala, the hosts beckon everyone to sit at their assigned tables because the award ceremony is about to begin. That’s when you notice that Wanda’s been missing for a while now. You scan the room while a retired basketball coach hobbles his way onto the stage, beginning a very long-winded speech on how he’d single-handedly led the St. Andrews’ team to victory back in 1993. Where the hell was Wanda? You realise you’ve been so wrapped up in the event and playing secret smiling games with Ari from across the room to notice that you hadn’t seen her since the three of you had arrived here.
Luckily, you spot her stumbling towards the bathrooms that are in a corridor off the main banquet hall. Stumbling being the key word, and you quietly curse yourself for allowing her to drink so much. God, Ari was just so distracting! Even when you weren’t even speaking to him, just his presence alone was making you forget about everyone else!
You tell Sharon you’re going to get Wanda before quietly sneaking away, hoping to discreetly bring her back before she wanders off somewhere else. You just hope
“Wanda, hey! Wait up!” You catch up to her, “Let’s go back to the banquet hall.”
Wanda rolls her eyes, “Leave me alone, Y/N. I’m looking for my boyfriend.”
Oh. She still hadn’t found him yet?
“C’mon, our table’s this way,” you try again, grabbing her hand, about to lead her away. Then you notice her eyes light up as she looks beyond your shoulder.
“Baby, there you are!” Wanda slurs brightly, snatching her hand out of your grip and making a beeline down the hall. You whip around to see Curtis closing the bathroom door behind him, his other hand wiping his mouth. His tie loose around his neck and top collar button undone. And you also see a tiny brunette in a silver dress slip out of the bathroom behind him, the dim lights of the hallway swallowing her up as she slinks away into the darkness, Wanda not even noticing her.
“Wanda.” Curtis blinks, looking entirely unperturbed. “You’re here.”
She hits him playfully on the shoulder, “Of course, I’m here. I came with the girls, remember? And I wanted to support you!”
He scratches the back of his head, “Yeah. Cool. Look, I’m gonna go back to the boys–”
“Great, let’s go!” Wanda links her arm with his, making his jaw tense and eyebrow raise. And you watch this whole ordeal with a sinking feeling in your stomach.
“Babe, remember how I told you this event was a no date kind of thing?” Curtis carefully peels himself away from her, making her pout. You cringe when she doesn’t get the message, grabbing his bicep again, her manicured nails like talons holding on with all her might.
“But I missed you, baby,” Wanda smiles up at him drunkenly. “I’ve been looking for you all night!”
Curtis visibly cringes, “Come on, babe, don’t be like this.” Again, he dislodges his arm from her grip, pushing her off of him not-so-gently. “I’m here with the team tonight, but I promise I’ll come by your room later. Maybe. Like way after midnight probably.”
You can’t hide your disgust, openly frowning and shaking your head at him. God, why did all men suck so much?
“Come on, Wanda,” You grab her hand once more, “You don’t need him to enjoy your night. Let’s go.”
“Um, fuck off, Y/N, I’m talking to my boyfriend right now.” Wanda pushes you off her before sidling up to Curtis again.
You gape at her, feeling a pang of hurt. She’s just drunk, she didn’t mean to say that…
Curtis sighs, rolling his eyes, “Listen to your friend, Wanda. I gotta go.”
“I’ll come with you!”
For a third time, she grabs on to his arm tightly. That’s when Curtis huffs, clearly annoyed.
“Look, I don’t know what you think is going on between us, but stop acting like we’re in some serious relationship or whatever.” He says, a frown bordering on disgust on his face as he shakes her hand off of him.
Wanda gapes, and even your mouth drops open. How dare he? How fucking rude!
“Baby, you don’t mean that–”
“I mean sure, we have fun together but please don’t get the wrong idea, Wanda. You can’t just chase me down at these public events like you own me or something. That’s not how this works. In fact, all it does is make you look kind of desperate.” He continues, getting his phone out and nonchalantly scrolling through it as if this whole painful conversation isn’t even worth his time.
How the hell was he speaking to his own girlfriend like that?
“I-I’m sorry for being desperate, Curtis,” Wanda says earnestly, her eyes wild and pupils dilated, “Please, don’t do this! Don’t break up with me like this!”
He rolls his eyes, “Do what? I’m not doing anything! I can’t break up with someone who was never my girlfriend to begin with. Sure, we had fun for a few weeks but it’s not like we were ever exclusive, let alone dating. You were too clingy for my liking anyways.”
“Curtis, that’s enough!” You admonish, your heart breaking for poor Wanda. Curtis was a joke. You can’t believe he’s standing here denying he was ever in a relationship with her. Hell, you’d been a third wheel to them enough times in the past month to know the two of them had definitely been a thing. How the hell was he just so casually gaslighting her now, as if none of that ever happened? God, you would never understand men!
Curtis glances at you, a devilish twinkle in his eye before he turns to Wanda again, “Hell, I’m pretty sure I tried to sleep with your friend Y/N before I settled for you that night at the party.”
“Oh, you’re such an asshole!” You explode, pulling Wanda away, “Stay away from her, you piece of shit! C’mon, Wanda.”
What you haven’t noticed is Wanda standing deathly still. She snatches her hand away from you, a look of absolute loathing, shock and betrayal on her face. And a part of you wants to see her give an asshole like Curtis a piece of her mind. But then she turns to face you, her eyes drunk and accusatory.
“Y-You…” she points at you, swaying in her heels from all the alcohol in her system, “You slept with my boyfriend?”
“What? No, he tried to sleep with me, but I wasn’t interested. It really wasn’t a big deal–” You try to hold her hand to calm her down, hoping she doesn’t make a big scene.
“Later, ladies.” Curtis grins, squeezing past the two of you and strutting over to table 2 with the rest of his team. You watch him for a moment, slack-jawed at his nonchalance and how badly he’d just hurt your friend.
“I can’t believe you!” Wanda hisses, pulling away from you yet again. “I can’t believe you slept with him!”
You shake your head desperately, “No, no, no! I didn’t sleep with him! That’s not what he said!” You take a deep breath, stopping yourself from raising your own voice out of desperation to get her to understand. Instead, you speak slowly: “Wanda, I did not sleep with Curtis. Yes, he did try it on with me ages ago but nothing happened.”
“You’re the biggest bitch in the world, Y/N! I can’t believe you slept with him!” Wanda sputters, tears welling in her drunken eyes. It’s like her brain has only selectively heard what he’d said and is running with it, and she’s unable to compute what you’re saying to her now. “I knew you weren’t above sleeping with other people’s boyfriends but I never thought you’d do it to me!”
“No, please, just listen! You’re not understanding–”
“Let go of me!” She bats your hands off her when you try to grab her again, backing away and stumbling out into the main banquet hall. “Don’t even speak to me again, Y/N! How dare you sleep with Curtis?! When you knew how much me and him meant to each other!”
Helplessly, you watch her as she marches across the banquet hall, and you trail behind her with a lump in your throat. You’d have to wait until she was sober to explain things to her properly, which was another conversation you weren’t looking forward to. But for now, you just watch her, hoping she doesn’t injure herself with how determinedly she’s walking. You expect her to head towards Curtis’ table, which is why you freeze when she walks straight past him and up towards the stage.
The retired basketball coach is just about done with his speech, and you nervously rejoin Sharon who is also looking at Wanda climbing up the stairs of the stage with a confused look on her face.
“We need to go get her,” you murmur.
“Why, hello young lady,” the retired basketball coach greets Wanda warmly, “Are you here to present the first award?”
Both you and Sharon spot Wanda eyeing the microphone with a gleam in her eye, and the two of you stand up in unison, exchanging alarmed looks.
But Wanda is quick, bumping the retired coach out of the way with her hip. She grabs the mic, tapping it quickly many times in succession. A high-pitched feedback echoes across the room, and more eyes turn towards her from all the other tables in the hall. The retired coach gives her a confused smile before shrugging and slowly hobbling away. A number of stagehands look on in confusion, checking their clipboards to see if this was part of the show.
And that’s when Wanda starts talking.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I have an award of my own!” She grips on to the mic like a vice, teetering on the middle of the stage. Her hair’s messy, her face stained with dried up tears. The straps of her dress slipping down her shoulders, and the half empty wine glass still in her hand, the remaining contents of it sloshing out onto the polished wooden floor.
“What the hell is she doing?” Sharon whispers from beside you. All around you, everyone in the banquet hall is whispering amongst themselves, and now all eyes are glued to your drunken best friend on stage. The tables full of professors, coaches and alumni all look around in bewilderment, frowning as if Wanda being on stage is all part of some kind of skit before the award ceremony.
You glance over at the jocks on table 2. Ari shoots you a perplexed look, Ransom’s got his phone camera out, Andy’s grinning from ear to ear. Colin has the decency to look away, an embarrassed look on his face. And Curtis? Curtis leans back on his chair, an amused look on his face as if he’s ready to kick back and enjoy the show.
That means it’s all up to you.
“Wanda!” You hiss, glad that your table is close enough to the stage that she can hear you, “Wanda, you’re drunk. C’mon, let’s go to the bathroom so I can fix you up.”
She looks down at you and smirks evilly, before looking away as if she hasn’t even heard you. Instead, she once more taps the mic once, twice, three times. She giggles drunkenly, “Testing, testing, is this thing on?”
“Wanda, babe, come down please!” Sharon joins in, but she also gets promptly ignored. She bites her lip before turning to you, “God, how did we not realise how drunk she’d gotten? She’s gonna make a fool of herself.”
“Wanda!” You try again, raising your voice slightly, “Come down, Wanda, please! The awards ceremony is about to begin!”
“It’s already begun! And like I said, I have an award of my own,” Wanda says, looking beyond you but never fully at you. You can see her lip curled slightly, and either it’s a smile or a sneer – you can’t really tell. But it makes your blood run cold, and a strong sense of foreboding washes over you again, like how it had earlier in your bedroom.
Quickly, you make your way over to the stage, hoping to pull her off before she said anything to embarrass herself too much. And it’s when you’re climbing up the stairs at the side of the stage that she resumes speaking:
“I know you’re all here for some… some random basketball award,” Wanda slurs, “But I wanna get my award out of the way first. And it’s the award for St. Andrews’ college’s biggest fucking slut.”
You’re halfway up the stage by now, and it’s when you step up on to the polished wooden floor that you pause, her words sinking in and a horrific feeling dawning on you. Oh no…
“And look! Here she is, the slut herself!” Wanda cheers, pointing straight at you with an unsteady hand. She throws her head back and laughs, her other hand gripping on to the mic for dear life. “Everybody, please give it up for Y/N! She already knows she’s the winner, nobody else could ever compare! Y/N is undoubtedly the biggest fucking slut on campus, and she wholeheartedly deserves this fucking award!”
Pin drop silence. For the first second, that’s all you hear. Silence that’s so loud, it’s almost deafening. Ringing in your ears, closing in on you like a siren. Then, you feel the waves of heat. Red hot fire radiating all over your body. Your face, your arms, your neck. Everywhere. You can’t quite believe what’s happening, but you know there’s a banquet hall filled with strangers staring straight at you as if you’re swathed in a spotlight.
“Curtis, get your girl the fuck off the stage!” You hear Ari say somewhere in the distance, and you can see him getting to his feet.
“No fucking way, that bitch isn’t my problem anymore.” Curtis whispers back, a note of glee in his tone.
You remain frozen on stage, your heart thrumming up to your throat. Wanda cackles, drunkenly beckoning you closer. Someone – either a professor or a coach – tries to coax her off the stage but she bats him away as if he’s an insignificant fly.
“C’mon, Y/N! Don’t be shy, come accept your award!” Wanda holds up her now empty wine glass as if it’s a trophy, “Ladies and gentlemen, don’t be mistaken! Y/N isn’t normally this shy! I mean, she certainly wasn’t when she fucked my boyfriend!”
A hushed gasp fills the hall, followed by a host of whispers. There’s a tiny voice inside you, telling you to run. Just run, run, run away from it all. But your feet don’t move, firmly planted in place as your whole body buzzes with heat and the lump in your throat gets bigger and bigger. Why was Wanda doing this? Oh God, what was happening!?
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Ari scrape his chair back and stride over to the stage, a venomous look on his face. At the same time, you feel a warm hand on your shoulder as Sharon comes up the steps to stand beside you.
“Wanda, honey, that’s enough.” Sharon says softly, holding her other hand out to your drunken friend. “Come on. Let’s go home.”
“Don’t you honey me,” Wanda spits out, “And don’t look at me as if I’m some sort of fool. If anyone’s a fool, it’s you, Sharon!”
Oh no. You feel yourself going light-headed.
That’s when Ari jumps up on stage, looking huge and menacing as he strides over to Wanda. He grabs her by the upper arm roughly, “Carla, shut the fuck up right now if you know what’s good for you,” He hisses.
“Well look who it is! Mister Knight in Shining Armour, here to save the fucking day!” Wanda laughs, and at least she’s not speaking into the mic anymore, but did it even matter? “Y/N doesn’t need your help, Ari! She’s a fucking slut who enjoys sleeping with other people’s boyfriends, and she’s proud of it! You’re proud of it, aren’t you, Y/N!?”
You’re in no condition to answer her question. Now, your body seems to be experiencing rapid hot and cold flushes. Icicles, then fire, then icicles, then fire again. And your face feels like it’s been stabbed by a thousand pins and needles. It’s a sensation you’ve never felt before, almost like an out of body experience. Like you’re floating except it feels terrible instead of liberating, and there’s absolutely no way for you to escape the impending doom.
Someone’s directed the live band to start playing again, and the room fills with music to combat the earth-shattering silence. But you know everyone’s eyes are still on the spectacle that’s taking place on stage. Everyone’s looking at you. And it’s like all your insecurities from the past month had come back in full force. Except so much worse, because now everyone thinks you’re a slut.
To your horror, Wanda goes to speak into the mic again. But Ari quickly snatches it out of her hands, throwing it aside and shooting her a glare, “Don’t even fucking think about it.”
“Okay, Wanda, you’ve made your point,” Sharon interjects gently. “I don’t know why you’d spread all these lies about your own best friend who’s been nothing but good to you, but it’s done now. Let’s just go.” Again, she reaches for Wanda’s hand, only for the latter to shoot her a sneer.
“Stop acting so holier-than-thou, Sharon. You’re not worth shit anymore, not since you got dumped,” Wanda laughs, suddenly aware of who exactly is on stage with her. She glances from you to Ari to Sharon, a look of evil glee spreading across her drunken features. “Why don’t you ask Ari again why he dumped you? Or better yet, why don’t you ask your new best friend Y/N?”
The band’s now playing an upbeat song, the lead singer urging everyone to get up on the dance floor in a bid to distract them. A few people do, but most stay planted in their seats, their focus still on the stage. Not that any of that even matters, not when Wanda’s words hit you like a ton of bricks. Out of your peripheral, you sense Sharon inhale sharply from next to you, and a deep feeling of dread starts spreading across your chest.
“Curtis, get the fuck up here and deal with her,” Ari seethes through gritted teeth. Curtis rolls his eyes, slowly making his way up to the stage like a panther going on a leisurely stroll.
“She sleeps with everyone’s boyfriend!” Wanda explodes, pointing another accusatory finger at you. “She doesn’t care about ruining relationships, all Y/N cares about is herself, Sharon! That’s why she’s been sleeping with Ari for months behind your back! And I kept her secret because I was being a good friend to her! Little did I know she fucked my boyfriend too!”
“That’s it, you’re fucking done,” Ari yanks Wanda off the stage, roughly pushing her down the steps all while keeping an iron grip on her forearm.
Thankfully, and yet a little too late, a stage hand drops the curtains. Dramatically, they fall down, shielding you from the stare and gossip of the audience. But you don’t feel any better. No, all you feel is pure, frozen shock. And the chaotic pantomime continues, even with the stage curtains now drawn.
“She’s been fucking Ari this whole time! She even fucked him out in the open at that frat party. In front of everyone, because that’s the type of slut she is!” Wanda cries out, stumbling over her words that act like bullets directed straight for Sharon. And, of course, you. “And she fucked Curtis too that night! Like the biggest fucking whore in the whole world! It’s true ‘cause he just told me! And God knows what she did with Steve, she probably let him smash too! As if slutting around on one campus wasn’t enough, she had to target a guy from a different college, and–”
She’s cut off by Ari plastering his huge hand over her mouth, all while she struggles and fights against him. He continues dragging her down the steps before throwing her into Curtis’ arms. Immediately, Wanda pacifies, grabbing on to Curtis for dear life while the buzzcut-haired man holds her gingerly.
“Get her out of here. I don’t care where the fuck you take her, I just want her gone.” Ari orders, narrowing his eyes when Curtis opens his mouth, “Don’t fucking argue with me, Everett. Go.”
Curtis rolls his eyes again, cautiously taking hold of Wanda who shuts up momentarily when she notices who’s holding her. She looks up at him with shining drunken eyes. “Curtis! You came back for me! Oh, I forgive you for fucking Y/N! I know she’s a huge slut and she probably seduced you! It wasn’t your fault at all, baby, I know that! Please let me be your girlfriend again, Curtis, please, I’ll do anything–”
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Curtis grunts as he drags Wanda towards the exit. Thankfully, she’s docile enough in his arms, and easily goes with him.
Leaving carnage in her wake.
They all think I’m a slut, you think it again, still frozen in place. And I am! I am, I am, I am! I’m a backstabbing slut and this is what I deserve. Total public humiliation.
You pull yourself out of whatever catatonic state your body wants to shut you down into. The stage curtains are drawn and you’re protected from all the stares of the guests, and yet you feel like you can still hear the buzz of their whispers. The gossip formulating, your name on the tips of all their tongues. Spoken with disdain and disgust. Oh, you want nothing more than to just shut down and disappear. But you can’t. You can’t shut down yet, not yet. Instead, you force yourself to face Sharon head on, and come clean about what you should’ve come clean about ages ago.
“Sharon, please, just let me expl–”
“It’s not true, is it?” Sharon says slowly. Her cheeks look red, her eyes stricken, as if Wanda’s drunken bombshell has reached out and slapped her across the face. Her mouth downturned as if she’s about to cry, and yet she’s using every fibre of her being to hold herself together.
Ari chooses that moment to come up next to you, instinctively putting his hand on your shoulder. And Sharon looks from him to you back to him again. And then her face falls, and it’s like it’s all happening in slow motion and you’ve got a front row seat to someone’s heart being broken in real-time. Her face crumples as realisation dawns on her, and a whimpering sound leaves her mouth.
“It is true…” She breathes.
“I am so, so sorry,” You begin, not even knowing how to start. You feel numb and disorientated, like Wanda’s screaming expose has hit you like a freight train you may never recover from. And yet you know not to be selfish enough to make it all about you in this moment, not when Sharon looks so betrayed right in front of you. And yet a tear rolls down your cheek as you look at her, “Sharon, please understand how sorry I am. I know I should’ve told you before, there’s literally no excuse–”
“You’re right, there isn’t.” She cuts you off coldly, but the iciness doesn’t reach her eyes which shine with a mix of tears and betrayal. “How could you? You were supposed to be my friend. Th-This whole time I thought you were my friend…”
“Hey, leave her alone,” Ari interjects, positioning himself in front of you protectively. “If you want to be angry at someone, be angry at me. She’s already been through enough tonight.”
“DON’T YOU DARE DEFEND HER, YOU LYING PIECE OF SHIT!” Sharon bursts out in a blaze of fury, “For once in your life, show me a little bit of respect and don’t fucking defend the girl you cheated on me with right to my face! I was your girlfriend once upon a time, Ari. And you act like it meant nothing.”
Her voice breaks at the end, and she fiercely wipes away her tears. It smears up her makeup too, but she looks like she’s past the point of caring.
“All I’m saying is to leave Y/N out of this, Sharon. Whatever happened between me and her wasn’t her fault at all. You and I can discuss this privately.” Ari says, his tone hard and serious. He’s standing tall, as if being exposed for your joint betrayal has him completely unfazed. You, on the other hand, feel like you’re about two feet tall.
Sharon looks at Ari incredulously, before her eyes shift back to you as if she can’t help it. “I trusted you, Y/N.” She says brokenly, “I..I liked you. I liked you so much. You have no idea how much I…” Her voice trails off for a second before it hardens: “…and this whole time you were going behind my back.”
You swallow harshly, “I’m so sorry. Please, I know what I’ve done is unforgivable. But just believe me when I tell you that I’m so, so genuinely sorry. Wh-When me and Ari started… I didn’t even know you back then and I know that doesn’t excuse it–”
“IT DOESN’T EXCUSE IT!” Sharon screams, and beyond her shoulder you can see a few people peeping through the curtains as if to continue watching the show. “It doesn’t excuse it at all, Y/N! You had so many chances where you could’ve come clean to me, but you chose to lie to my fucking face.” She laughs bitterly, as if she can’t believe all this is actually happening. “Oh God, how stupid could I have been? All those times when I was crying to you about my breakup, or when I was trying to help you get through your boy troubles… All that time you were sleeping with Ari and I never suspected a damn thing?! Oh, you must’ve been laughing your ass off behind my back!”
You scramble to explain yourself, you want to say more, but it’s like your throat’s closing up now. Like you’re experiencing some type of allergic reaction. Your skin feels like it’s crawling, like your self-disgust has just boiled over the edge and you’re covered in the shame and guilt that’s been festering inside you. Except it’s now also mixed with the sheer humiliation from everything you’ve just experienced. What could you possibly say to explain yourself? She was right. She was one thousand percent right.
They were all right about you, the voice in your head cackles. Steve and Wanda and probably everyone else who’s thinking it right now. You’re a slut.
“Leave her the fuck alone, Sharon.” Ari threatens lowly, dropping his hand from your shoulder and taking a menacing step towards the blonde. “I mean it. Not another word.”
Sharon tilts her head, and you find her looking at you. Really looking at you. As if she’s searching the plains of your face to detect the level of your honesty. And you want to look away, want to look down because of how humiliated you are. But you look back at her meekly, feeling like a fucking backstabbing rat. Oh God, why had you not just come clean to her weeks ago when the two of you had first started becoming friends? Were you truly that spineless? Were you really that much of a coward?
“Get out.” Sharon says coldly, the hurt on her face now replaced with an impenetrable mask of stone-cold indifference. “Get out of here, Y/N. I don’t want to look at you. I thought we were friends but it’s like I don’t even know you. And I never knew you. So just get out of here. GET OUT!”
Her venomous words make you jump. Your lower lip quivers, and you feel like the dirt at the bottom of everyone’s shoe. Ari turns around, tries to grab your hand but you back away quickly. Your heel catches on something and you stumble. Regaining your balance, you see Ari coming towards you, and Sharon staring you down from behind him. The pity and concern in his eyes, the pure betrayal in hers. Oh, you don’t want any of it! You just wish you’d disappear!
You take off into a run, your heels clacking on the wooden floor noisily but you don’t care. You do exactly what Sharon’s told you to do – you run. Gathering up your dress so it doesn’t get caught in your shoes. Oh, and who cares if it did? Who cares at all? Certainly not you.
You run out into the full banquet hall, trying not to meet anyone’s gaze. Trying to block out what they’re whispering. You know they’re talking about you; you know they’re looking at you as if you’re the biggest backstabbing whore in the whole world. Which you are. Oh, how spectacularly everything had fallen apart!
Somewhere behind you, you can hear Ari calling out your name. But you don’t stop, don’t look back. Not this time. You weave through the crowd, your tears blurring your vision but you don’t dare stop. Out into the hotel lobby, down the marble steps adorned in grand red carpeting with gold tassels. Feeling like a warped Cinderella who wasn’t the helpless princess after all, but instead the backstabbing villain. Out the front entrance, and the doorman stares at you but you don’t care, and the outside cold hits you like a ton of bricks.
As if on cue, the wind roars loudly, slapping you in the face with all its might and fury. And you remember earlier tonight, when you’d wondered whether the winds had been trying to warn you about something. Oh, your intuition had been right! Why hadn’t you just stayed at home?! Now, the wind swirls around you threateningly, and you just stand there in the bitter cold, as if daring it to attack you. All around you, the grass rustles, the trees cower, the very ground seems to shake as gust after gust hits at you, and your hair comes loose, and you’re about to start crying in earnest, and–
“Y/N, wait! Stop!” Ari grabs your hand, his familiar warmth shooting through your entire body. He pulls you into his arms, embracing you fiercely. Your burst into ferocious tears that you hadn’t realised you’d been holding in. Loud, wracking sobs muffled by his strong chest as he holds you close. “I’m so sorry that happened, baby. I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”
“I did!” You cry, another gust of wind hitting you like a wake-up call, and you push off of him with tears streaming down your face. “I did deserve it, Ari! I deserved all of it!”
There’s an invisible whirlpool around the two of you. Maybe you’re imagining it in your delirium, but it’s like a swirling of energy, entrapping the two of you together on this stormy night. The wind howls around you both, ringing in your ears as if to warn you again, telling you this is all wrong, wrong, wrong!
And Ari looks at you like his whole heart’s in his eyes, and they glisten with emotion that you’ve never seen in him before. And he holds you close, and cups your face. He wipes your tears as if to soothe you, but how could you soothe someone who was so beyond repair that perhaps repair wasn’t even an option anymore? How!?
“Let me take you home,” he whispers, “I don’t want you to be alone tonight. Please, let’s just go. And I swear I’ll deal with everything; I’ll deal with all of them. I’ll make them pay for hurting you. Just please, stop crying and come with me.”
“No!” You snatch your hand out of his and step back, shaking your head fiercely. “Don’t you get it, Ari? We’re not right together and we never will be!”
“That’s not true–”
“Yes, it is!” You sob freely, “How many people do we have to hurt for it to sink in that we just don’t work?” Ferociously, you wipe at your tears, not that it matters when new one’s flow down your cheeks freely, “All we ever do is fight, Ari! We just run around in circles and fight and hurt each other and hurt everyone around us! And now I know it’s ‘cause we just don’t work, and we never will!”
“No.” Ari says firmly, “I’m the one who hurt people, okay? Not us. Just me. And you got caught in the crossfire and I’m fucking sorry.”
You shake your head, “It doesn’t matter anymore. None of it matters, Ari. They all think I’m a slut and they’re all right! And I’ll never live this down and I don’t deserve to live it down! So just leave me alone, okay? JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!”
“NO!” Ari roars, louder than the wind itself, and louder than you too. “No, I’m not fucking leaving you alone! I told you that I care about you, and I’m never gonna leave you alone. So just… just come on. Let me take you home, baby. I’ll make it better, I promise.”
The blustering winds form an impenetrable current around the two of you, whistling and swirling with rogue leaves like a tornado that you seem to be trapped in with him. And in an ironic way, it perfectly encapsulates your relationship with him: a whirlwind. A tornado. A constant uphill battle filled with fights and arguments, always one step forward and then two steps back. Maybe it was time to just give up, to come to terms with how it just didn’t work between you and him.
You sniffle weakly, “Nothing can make this better. Whatever there was between us, it was never going to work. Not when it started out as a lie.”
Tenderly, yet charged with an electric emotion you can’t quite pinpoint, he cups your face again. Your freezing wet cheeks welcome the warmth they bring, despite everything.
“I’ll make it better,” Ari repeats, softer this time. He presses his forehead against yours. “You mean more to me than Sharon or anyone else ever did. And I know our relationship started out wrong because I lied to you. Constantly. I know that. But I promise you I’ll make it all better and you’ll never hurt again how you’re hurting now.”
You feel like you’re at a crossroads. You’ve gone through more emotional turmoil in these past few weeks than you have in any other point of your life. And each time, you’ve fallen back into Ari’s arms in a heap of tears. So, what about this time? Would you do the same thing again? Another circle? Another fight? Another heartbreak?
“I’m in love with you.” Ari breathes. And in that moment, even the winds stand still. And his eyes look like twin oceans with stars scattered inside them. And those stars in his eyes, those stars get bigger and bigger till they’re all you can see. And you can’t hear anything anymore, except for his breathing and yours. And you can feel only one thing, and that’s his hands cupping your cheeks as he gazes at you with a look of desperation mixed with something else. Something passionate. And honest. “I’m in love with you, okay? I’ve never been in love before but I’m pretty positive that I love you, and I promise I’ll protect you from ever being hurt again.”
In the distance, beyond his shoulder, a branch from a tree falls to the ground. As if unable to stand the wrath of the wind on this night. It crashes down, all the way down till it’s no longer a part of what it had once always known. You focus on it for a split second, before some kind of magnetic pull makes you look back to Ari.
“Why does it always take some sort of traumatic event for you to say these things?” You whisper, letting his words bounce off you. Not letting them permeate into your heart and set camp, not allowing them to let you hope. Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted to hear from him!?
“I’ve felt this way for a while,” he says earnestly, “I just didn’t want to admit it to myself. But I told you, I’m ready now. For everything. I love you, and I want everyone to know it.” He draws you closer, cradling your face in his warm hands. How are they so warm on such a cold night? How was he so warm when you felt so cold, cold, cold?! So freezing cold from the inside out?
I love you. I’m in love with you. I promise I’ll protect you. I love you. I love you. I love you.
Oh, his words were finding their way into your heart! You take a timid step closer, allow yourself to look into his eyes. Everything was crashing and burning around you. Your life was ruined, and so was your reputation. Everyone thought you were a slut and you had no friends left at all. But Ari was here. Solid. Real. Right in front of you. Saying all the right things on a night that had gone so horrifically wrong. Should you allow yourself this? Did you deserve it? Did he?
His lips have barely brushed against yours when you hear a loud shatter right next to you.
“You told me you weren’t going to be with him tonight.”
Steve. Standing less than a foot away from you. A glass bottle lying broken by his feet, the smell of vodka strongly emanating from him. His hair falls over his forehead, swaying gently in the roaring wind. His eyes black, blown out, barely there. Hooded, like he’s sad. Betrayed. Oh, how did he even get here!?
Your jaw drops open, “Steve, I–”
“How fucking dare you show your face in front of her after everything you put her through?” Ari growls, pushing you behind him before squaring up to Steve. “Get the fuck out of here, Rogers. Before I break your neck.”
You swallow harshly, “Ari, don’t…”
Steve sidesteps Ari, and those sad eyes look straight at you. Penetrating down straight to your soul.
“You kissed me earlier tonight, but now you’re choosing him.”
He says it matter-of-factly, his words slurring slightly but still clear as day. You feel a pang in your heart. From your peripheral, you see Ari bristle at Steve’s words, clearly taken aback by what he’s just revealed.
You open your mouth, but it feels all dried up. Like you’re back in the middle of the stage with an audience of people watching you get exposed for your betrayal.
“You don’t have to answer him.” Ari says to you, quickly recovering and grabbing your hand protectively before turning back to sneer at Steve. “Get the hell out of here. Tonight isn’t the night for your bullshit.”
“He’ll only hurt you,” Steve says, ignoring Ari and looking directly at you. “I told you; all Ari ever does is hurt people.”
“Shut your fucking mouth, Steve, or else I’ll–”
“Or else you’ll what, Ari? I don’t give a fuck what you do.” Steve finally looks at the brunet, squaring up to him till they’re both face to face. Each as big as the other, each as menacing as the other. But that’s where the similarities end. Ari looks wary, on edge. And Steve? Steve looks like he has nothing left to lose.
“Oh yeah? Is that why you’ve been dodging me all these weeks?” Ari barks out a laugh, but it sounds hollow, almost forced. And his eyes keep darting between Steve and back to you. “I’m telling you for the last time, Rogers. Walk away so she doesn’t have to see me kill you.”
“Stop acting like some kind of fucking hero, Ari. You of all people should know that’s not what you are.” Steve fires back, “You’ll hurt her, just like you hurt–”
“My car’s parked around the corner. You know what it looks like. Go, I don’t want you to see this.” Ari says to you, his hand dropping yours as he keeps his eyes on the blonde in front of him. You watch as his fists clench by his sides.
There’s a pause before Steve laughs. And just like Ari’s from earlier, Steve’s laugh sounds hollow too. Like neither of them are enjoying this confrontation. And neither are you, and yet your feet remain planted to the ground. The winds are still howling around you, encasing the three of you in a whirlpool. And within it, you sense the strongest feeling of foreboding you’ve felt yet.
“You still haven’t told her, have you?” Steve accuses.
A dark, anxious feeling pools inside your chest, twisting your veins, reaching straight for your heart. More secrets? “Tell me what, Ari?”
“Go to my car, I’m serious.”
“I heard your little speech from just now. I heard all your promises. How you’ll never hurt her again,” Steve shoves Ari. And it’s a drunken shove, but a hard one. “How you’ll protect her,” another shove, “How you’re in love with her.”
“Shut the fuck up, Steve. You have no idea what you’re–”
“Tell me, is that what you told my sister too?”
Everything stops. Even the wind, with how fierce and mighty it had been all night, comes to a screeching halt. It’s like the grass stops rustling, the trees stop swaying. You think your heart has stopped too. Steve’s sister? Kira? Ari knew her? The dark, anxious feeling doubles up, multiplies in a millisecond. You feel like your insides have turned to tar, and your blood freezes in the worst way possible.
“Wh-What’s he talking about, Ari?” Your question comes out soft, timid. As if you’re afraid of the answer.
Ari’s head whips around, and his cheeks are flushed. His jaw tensed, his eyes wild. Quickly, he shakes his head, “He doesn’t know what he’s saying, okay? Clearly, he’s drunk, and high off of something, and he doesn’t know what he’s saying–”
“WHAT THE FUCK DID KIRA EVER DO TO YOU, ARI?!” Steve erupts, making you jump. Ari flinches too, but Steve closes in on him, his dark eyes blazing. “What did she ever do to you? Except trust you?” He laughs bitterly, “Maybe that was her mistake. Trusting someone like you.” And then he looks straight at you, “Don’t make the same mistake, Y/N. He’ll run you out of this place just like he did my sister.”
Your lower lip quivers, “What do you mean?”
Ari grabs your hand and pulls you back, “Let’s just go. He doesn’t know what he means. He has no fucking clue what he’s talking about.”
Like it’s a hot poker, you pull your hand out of his grip, staring up at him incredulously.
“I have no fucking clue, huh? As if I haven’t been in the same house as her, watching her lock herself up in her room and cry for the past fucking year!” Steve says, and this time he squares up to Ari again, grabbing the brunet’s collar to make him look at him. “As if I haven’t watched her become a fucking shell of her former self, as if I haven’t watched her lose her smile, lose her personality, lose her fucking will to interact with anyone. All because of you!”
Now it’s Ari’s turn to shove Steve, and he does it with full force. Steve stumbles backwards, and Ari looks at him in fury. And yet he doesn’t say anything, nothing at all. And the sticky black tar coats your heart and starts seeping into your lungs, making it hard for you to breathe. Making it hard for you to make sense of what’s going on. Oh god, what exactly was Steve saying?! And why wasn’t Ari denying anything?!
“You can’t even deny it anymore, can you?” Steve spits out, “And now you’re out here actin’ like a fuckin’ superhero, promising Y/N the entire world. Well, why don’t you answer my question, Levinson? Is that what you promised Kira too? Is that what you fucking promised her before you spread those pictures of her to every fucking person you know?”
That’s when you feel like the wind’s been knocked out of you. You feel faint, dizzy. Like you’re no longer real. Ari turns to look at you, and you can’t even begin to decipher his expression but it’s like you no longer want to look at him. Pictures? Like nudes? Ari? Spreading private pictures of Kira around campus??? You shake your head, willing him to say something, to deny it all vehemently.
“She’s my sister,” Steve’s voice breaks, an outpouring of emotion that you’ve never ever seen from him. His face red, his fists clenched but not in anger, more so in desperate sadness. “She’s my sister and you were my friend and you fucking broke her, Ari. She couldn’t handle it, everyone talking about her, laughing at her. You ran her out of school, and you broke her. And now you’re gonna do the same thing to Y/N too.”
Ari swallows, looking stricken how you’ve never seen him look before. He sucks in his breath, and when he speaks, it sounds like it’s a stranger talking: “Don’t even act like you have Y/N’s best interests at heart, after what you did to her. And you have no idea what you’re sayi–”
“This is who he is!” Steve erupts again, this time looking straight at you, “My sister was so fucking trusting, she did whatever he asked her to. She sent him pictures that were supposed to be private, all ‘cause he told her to. She never should’ve trusted an asshole like him but she did, she trusted him with everything she had, and now look at her.” He shakes his head, his entire body shaking from either anger or grief or both. “And Kira, she was so broken over it, she told me never to mention it again to anyone, she made me promise not to. But you need to know who he really is. He’s a fucking asshole who’ll hurt anyone! He hurt Kira, he hurt Sharon, and he’ll hurt you too.”
“Let’s go,” Ari says to you, gathering himself and grabbing your hand, “Let’s just go and I’ll explain everything.”
For the second time, you snatch your hand away from his and shake your head, your mind racing and you think you’re going to be sick. Oh God, how many more times would Ari lie to you? “Don’t touch me.”
“Baby, I said I’d explain–”
“You knew Steve’s sister this whole time?”
“Yes, but–”
“Wh-Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you mention it even once?” Your voice sounds high, like you’re about to start crying from shock. And betrayal. You suck in your breath. He’d been hiding this from you, so what else was he hiding?
He tries to grab your hand again, but you take a step back in disbelief.
“Don’t you dare touch me. Y-You’re a liar! You lied again. You told me you wouldn’t lie to me but you lied again!” Oh, you feel like you don’t even know him anymore! Did you ever truly know him to begin with? You think back to Kira, so anxious that she couldn’t even look you in the eye. Had Ari really hurt her so badly? Spread around nude pictures of her and ruined her life and then continued on with his own as if none of it had even happened? “H-How could you do that to her? How could you–”
Ari opens his mouth to speak, but that’s when Steve tackles him. You scream, caught off-guard as the two behemoths fall to the ground. The wind resumes its wicked gusts, and this time it’s like it’s taunting you. Taunting you for forcing yourself time and time again to live in this fairytale utopia where Ari and you could ever possibly work. Each slap of cold air on your face reminding you that nothing, nothing in the whole world, could ever make the two of you work.
And maybe it was written in the stars, maybe this fight was bound to happen between the two of them. And yet you can’t make sense of it, watching with stricken horror as Steve grabs Ari’s collar again.
“You sick, twisted bastard! Fuck you for ruining my sister!” Steve punches him, but Ari quickly dodges it. And Steve’s movements are slower, sluggish. You feel sick thinking of how much he’s had to drink tonight. He was already drunk hours ago when he’d showed up at your dorm room, but now? Now he looks doubly wasted, teetering on the verge of no return and completely past the point of even caring about it.
Steve’s fuelled by alcohol and a tragic rage. No, rage was the wrong word, because the anger he was exhibiting now was nothing like when he’d punched the wall or when he’d lost his cool at basketball practice. Now, it felt different. Like he was charged by his own sadness, and an underlying sense of resignation. Like a part of him didn’t care what would happen to him by the end of tonight. Like he was getting all his punches in before he… before he…
“Stop!” You finally find your voice and yell out, but it doesn’t carry, your words getting lost in the wind. Ari shoves Steve off of him, dragging both of them to their feet. Steve throws another punch, and Ari dodges it just in time so instead of his fist connecting with his jaw, it slams painfully against his shoulder. But Ari doesn’t flinch.
“You have no fucking clue what you’re talking about!” Ari snarls, drawing his fist back to punch back. That’s when you throw all caution to the wind and run forward, coming between them.
“Don’t, Ari! He’s drunk, and he took all this medication, and…” your voice trails off, but the worry is evident in your tone as the realisation hits you. His medication for his mood swings. How much of it had he taken? Ari pauses, still glaring daggers at Steve, who looks back at him just as venomously.
“HIT ME, LEVINSON! DO IT, JUST HIT ME!” Steve shouts, louder than the wind itself. “It’s not like I’ve got shit to lose, so go right ahead! I’ve said what I had to say and now I’m fucking done.” His face twists, veins popping in his forehead, his blonde locks brushing over his wild eyes as they rest on you. His gaze softens somewhat, like a drunken, tragic hero. “I’m done, Y/N. It’s okay, I’m done. And I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for scaring you. I hope one day you’ll be able to forgive me.”
Why was he talking like that? You have no time to contemplate his words, however. Because Ari steps forward in front of you, his fist clenched to his side. And you’ve never seen him look this angry, and once more he draws his fist back, and you try to find your voice to stop him but nothing comes out. And the wind hits its crescendo, and there’s a clap of thunder serving as an exclamation point to this disastrous evening. Your entire body jerks, as if expecting something terrible to happen, and you close your eyes and you brace yourself…
A loud thud. You open your eyes, a scream getting caught in your throat when you see Steve on the ground. Motionless.
“Ari, what did you do!?” You cry.
Ari turns to you, breathing hard and yet he’s got a confused look on his face. His fist is still clenched but he shakes his head in shock.
“Nothing. I swear I didn’t do anything, he just… He just collapsed.”
You run over, crouch down next to Steve, trying to survey any damage. Sure enough, his face looks pristine, apart from a bluish-purple hue to his pale skin that you hadn’t noticed before. No signs of having been punched, however. But it’s his eyes that catch your attention, stricken and looking straight up. Almost like he’s unresponsive, when just a second ago he’d been on his feet and just fine.
“Oh god, oh my god. Steve!?” Your voice goes high with panic. With trembling hands, and quick, flurrying movements, you shake his shoulders. But all that does is make his head loll back, and he’s still staring up at the sky with a glassy look on his face, not reacting to you at all. Almost like he’s on another planet. Trying to keep your panic at bay, you quickly try and feel for his pulse, and that’s when you really start to lose it.
“Oh my god, Ari, he-he doesn’t have a pulse! I can’t find his pulse, I c-can’t– ARI, DO SOMETHING!”
Ari, who up until this moment seemed to be frozen in shock, staring at his still clenched fist as he stood over the two of you, seems to finally snap out of it. He springs into action, pushing you aside and crouching down next to the blond. He grabs his wrist while you look on, horrified beyond belief over what exactly was happening in front of your eyes.
He knew that mixing alcohol with his medication was dangerous, you think to yourself, another bout of sick realisation dawning on you. He’s pre-med, he’s studying to be a doctor. Of course, he knew! Had he… had he meant to do this? Oh God…
“He’s got a pulse,” Ari mutters, “He’s got one but it’s weak.”
Tears gather in your eyes as your head starts to spin, “H-He was on this medication, he told me earlier F-For his mood swings or something. And he was drinking too, and he probably took his pills and he drank and, oh God, I should’ve done something! I didn’t think it was that bad, I didn’t–”
“We need to call 911.” Ari says firmly, and you’re relieved that at least one of you is keeping their wits about them. You don’t know whether Ari’s just good under pressure or whether he’s in genuine shock too, judging by the frozen look on his face. Nevertheless, you watch him as he stands up, getting his phone out of his pocket and dialling the number.
And, almost like in cruel irony, the howling winds that had been swirling around you have now gone silent. Deathly silent. It’s like the three of you are in a vacuum, and yet you can barely even hear Ari talking on the phone. All you can hear is your fucking heart in your chest, and the racing of your own thoughts: this is my fault, this is my fault, this is my fault…
“Come on, Steve!” You urge, grabbing his hand and almost recoiling because of how limp and cold it feels. He’d been so warm when you’d kissed him hours earlier, so warm and soft. And it seems like lightyears ago, that kiss followed by the breathless silence. How you’d noted how he looked like he was one sip away from disaster. Oh, why hadn’t you done more? You could have sobered him up, but you’d been so wrapped up in your own problems. And now?
“P-Please, don’t do this. Just wake up. Or say something, just please!” And you don’t know why you’re having such a reaction – wasn’t it you who’d told Steve hours ago how you and him barely even knew each other? How there was nothing between the two of you? How he’d ruined all of that? Then why, why, why was your heart burning up right now? Like a ball of fire deep in your chest, waiting to explode. You tap his cheek desperately, noting the blueish tone of his lips, wondering why you hadn’t noticed that earlier. Beating yourself up over it.
“They’re coming,” you hear Ari say behind you, “An ambulance is on its way. It’s gonna be okay.”
But you don’t even hear him, too busy thinking back to when Steve had been in your dorm room earlier tonight. The sad look in his eyes as he’d turned to leave after your kiss. You can feel your tears soaking up your freezing cold cheeks now as you squeeze his hand.
“I forgive you, okay? I forgive you! Just wake up, please! Steve, just wake up! Didn’t you hear me? I forgive you!”
Your tears blur your vision, and his face becomes a pale blur. Fiercely, you wipe your eyes with your one free hand. And vaguely, you can feel Ari’s hand on your shoulder. And his is so warm. And Steve’s is so cold. Hot and cold. Cold and hot. You don’t even notice when you feel your own hand being squeezing lightly.
“That’s good,” Steve says faintly, his lips barely moving. You gasp and move closer, hoping you haven’t imagined it. His eyes flutter gently, like he doesn’t want to keep them open anymore. But his face looks relaxed, so relaxed that it’s scary, and it feels like you’re looking at a ghost. Those blue lips part once more. “Don’t worry about me. I’m comfortably numb, remember? I think I finally made it last…”
“No, no, no, no…” you scramble, watching as his eyes slip shut. You squeeze his hand again, shake at his shoulders, tap his cheek. Oh no, no, no, no. And all around you, the trees start swaying once more. The great gusts of wind continue, almost like they never even stopped, and another branch falls to the ground. The grass rustles beneath where Steve lies, and the moonlight shines on his face, making his pallor look a deathly kind of beautiful. Like an angel.
And it reminds you of the first night you’d met him. The night you’d dreamed of him. He’d looked like an angel in your dreams too.
The wind whistles with great might, and it sounds like a cackle. As if it’s mocking you. And Steve is still, and Ari’s still holding firmly on to you, and you can barely hear the blare of the siren as the ambulance slowly approaches.
A/N: .....did Steve just.... OH MY GODDD. Well, if you made it this far then congratulations!!! I really hope y'all liked it. I'm so scared it didn't live up to expectations. I KNOW there was no smut but you guys I tried my best to see where I could fit it in... I just couldn't justify putting it in anywhere in the story and it actually making sense, pls understand! UGHHH I'm just so insecure about this chapter, but if you liked it PLESE PLEASE let me know what you think! Any thoughts, comments, feedback would genuinely be appreciated SO much like SO SO much omfg. Like any favourite parts etc? I really wanted to focus on romantic scenes between reader and the two guys and i hope i showed that! BUT YEAH PLS LMK WHAT YOU THINK ILY ILY.
Okay and as usual, here are some questions!! (y'all don't have to answer them, but just in case anyone does!!!)
Which romantic scene did you prefer? Steve coming up reader's window or Ari taking reader on a picnic? OR NEITHER???
What are your thoughts on Carla Wanda after this chapter??? LMFAOO.
Why was Sharon more upset with reader than with Ari? Hmm.....
Did Ari really spread Kira's nudes around :( ?? Or do you think there's more to the story?
TEAM ARI OR TEAM STEVE? ( if he's okay that is damn )
AND THAT'S IT! Hope y'all enjoyed it! I'm gonna stop yapping now bahahaha byeee ily ily ily
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Reckless (2)
Pairing: Lee Know x Reader
Genre: Brothers Bestfriend
Warning: Hurt.. smutty smut [18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT READ]
Word Count: 2.6k
Part One |
Taglist: @hyunjinhoexxx @ovulatingrn @jisunglyricist @guiltycoco @fawnpeaks @purple-bell @seungminsapuppy @chanbahng29
“Dumb enough to do what, exactly?” You ask Jisung, eyes darting between him and Minho.
“Fuck around, get to together.. you know, anything like that.” Jisung chuckles.
“Would that really be so bad?” Minho asks, locking eyes with you as Jisung looks down at his food, that was your food, and laughs.
“It would be hell on earth.” He yells. “My little sister and my best friend? Ew, never happening.”
“Don't worry man, I would never go for Y/N. She's not even my type.” Minho laughs.
You glance at Minho, who is now avoiding eye contact.
“But you can go after my best friend?” You scoff, pushing his shoulder a little.
“What?” He asks. “When did I go after Hyunjin?”
You roll your eyes at him. “Not Hyunjin, Jisoo you moron!”
“She's hot.” Jisung laughs, looking at Minho. “And judging by his face, he thinks so too.”
“Ah, um, no, I don't.” Minho says. “I really don't.”
“It's okay, her and I are just a casual hookup thing, I can set you up with her.” Jisung offer.
“Since when are you a casual hook up thing with her?” You ask.
“Since last night.” Jisung explains, with a giant smile on his face. “So, you wanna get set up?” He asks Minho, wiggling his eyebrows.
“I don't need your help with women. I'm perfectly capable of getting them on my own.” Minho laughs.
“I'm gonna set you up anyway!” Jisuung yells, excitedly. “Minho and Jisoo!”
You look at Minho, you're not even sure with what kind of expression.
“As fun as this has been, I have to go get ready for class. Both of you, goodluck with the whole Jisoo thing.” You say, forcing a smile as you walk past both of them.
“What's up her ass?” Jisung laughs as you walk out of the room.
You hated him so much sometimes. As you're gathering your bag and books there's a knock at your door.
“Go away.” You yell, grabbing your phone off your bed.
“Open the door.” You hear. You rolled your eyes, you had no choice, you had to leave anyway. You pull the door open, seeing Minho standing there, looking guilty. “What?”
“Listen.” Minho starts.
“Don't.” You say, putting up your hand. “Whatever happened was a drunk thing, I'm not even your type so don't worry about it.” You finish, moving past him, heading downstairs and out the front door.
“Guys fucking suck.” You scoff, sliding into the seat next to Hyunjin.
“Good afternoon to you too.” He chuckles, running his hands through his hair.
“I'm sorry, not you. Just a select few.” You sigh.
“Your brother?” He asks, glancing at you.
“He's one, yes. He hooked up with Jisoo.” You shiver, the thought makes you nauseous.
“Yeah, unfortunately I saw that.” Hyunjin sighs. “I had nightmares last night from it. Also, where did you disappear too? You said you were getting a drink and never came back.” He pouts.
“Ah, I got pulled into the hallway by one of Jisung's friends apparently. Changbin.” You explain, opening your text book.
“That creepy fuck?” He almost yells. “Stay away from him.”
“That's the plan.” You smile as your professor walks into the room. Hyunjin leans over, his lips brushing your ear. “Do you wanna get a drink after this?” He asks.
You smile at him and nod your head. Hopefully you'll be able to make it through this class. At the end of the lecture, your head was pounding. You were exhausted and confused by the entire lesson plan. You swore you had no fucking clue what your teacher was talking about in almost any of the class.
“Drink?” Hyunjin asks. You desperately nod your head as he links arms with you, heading to your favorite pub. You know those people who say they're going to only have one drink, and end up having multiple? Yeah that was you and Hyunjin. One turned to two, which turned to three, and four and so on. By your 6th drink you were hiccuping and slurring your words.
“Let's get you out of here.” Hyunjin laughs, pulling your arm.
“I don't wanna go hooooomeeee.” You whine. “Stupid Minho is there.”
“What'd he do?” Hyunjin asks, holding your shoulder as he guides you out of the pub.
“I'm not his tyyyypee.” You exaggerate.
“But you're everyone's type.” Hyunjin scoffs. “Especially mine.”
“No..” you hiccup. “No No don't do that.”
“Do what?” He asks. He leans his face close to yours, and you're uncomfortable. You can feel in your pocket, your phone vibrating. You grab it, fumbling to answer the call, not even reading who was calling.
“Hellooooo?” You answer, moving away from Hyunjin's close face.
“Where are you?”
“Minho?” You ask.
“Yes, Y/N, Where are you?” He asks again.
“Why do you even care?” You wonder.
“Y/N. Please, just tell me.” He sighs.
“I got a drink with Hyunjinnie.” you giggle. “That turned into 6.. I think he's trying to kiss me.” You whisper.
“At the pub by school?” He asks.
“Yeah, we left. He's walking me home.”
“Stay there.” He deadpans. “I'm on my way.”
You wanted to tell him no but the line went dead. You slipped your phone back in your pocket as Hyunjin walked over to you. “Who was that?”
“Minho.” You slur. “He told me to wait here.” You sigh, rolling your eyes.
“I'm more than capable of taking you home, you know.” He whines. You look at him, he looks annoyed.
“Yeah, I know.” You smile. “I didn't ask him to come.” You chuckle.
“Doesn't matter. Why does he have to come? Why can't I just have some time with you. And why are you okay with him coming!? I thought you didn't like him.” He huffs.
“It's complicated Hyunjin..” you sigh. This sudden serious talk was beginning to sober you up and you didn't like it.
“Complicated how?” He asks. You grab the sleeve of his arm, dragging him back towards the bar.
“More drinks.” You huff, Hyunjin in tow. Hyunjin chuckles from behind you, as the two of you enter the bar. You wanted to see how many shots you were able to do before Minho busted through the door.
It ended up only being two. The front door of the pub swings open, a huffing Minho walks in, looking around the bar for you. You tried to duck behind Hyunjin, but drunk you weren't the best at hiding.
“Minho.” Hyunjin says, placing his hand on Minho's chest to stop him. “She's fine with me. You can go.” He finishes.
Minho looks down at Hyunjins hand, swatting it off of him. “She's fine with you, huh?” He laughs. “After you tried to kiss her?” Hyunjin doesn't say anything. “Yeah, that's what I thought. Y/N, let's go. I told Jisung I'd bring you home.”
“So you're not here because you want to be.” You sigh, standing up. “Jisung sent you?”
“Yeah.” Minho responds, avoiding your eyes. You scoff, pushing past him and Hyunjin, towards the front door.
Minho follows closely behind you as you walk out the door. “I'm parked right there.” He says, pointing to his car.
You huff as you walk towards it, climbing in the back seat. Minho climbs into The driver's seat, turning around to look at you. “Why are you back there?” He asks.
“It's much safer back here.” You say, crossing your arms.
“Safer from what?” He asks, starting the car.
“Safer from you. You can't kiss me back here and then tell people I'm not your type.” You yell.
“Y/N.. that's not..” he starts.
“Don't wanna hear it.” You yell, cutting him off. He sighs as he starts to drive towards your house. The rest of the ride goes by in silence. You walk in the door first, Jisung tries to greet you but instead you walk straight up the stairs and head towards your room, changing into some shorts and a tank top before crawling into bed. You glance at the clock, it was only 10pm, and Jisung had already forced you to go home. It wasn't even that late, you were an adult, so why were you listening to them? You pulled out your phone to send a text to Jisoo, seeing what she was doing.
[To: Jisooooo] 10:02pm: What are you doing rn?
[From: Jisooooo] 10:05pm: Party at the EXO house. Come!!
You smile at your phone as you crawl out of bed and head to your closet. You slip on a dress, quickly doing some makeup and your hair. You grab a pair of shoes. You open your bedroom door, peeking out into the hallway, not seeing anyone you quietly head down the stairs, trying to be as quiet as you possibly can. You peek around the corner, seeing Minho and Jisung watching something on the couch. You tiptoe by, opening the front door, and of course it squeaks.
“Y/N?” Jisung yells. You pull the door open as fast as you can, not bothering to shut it and you bolt from the house. You look behind you, seeing Jisung's shadow in the door frame as you take off.
Once you feel like you're far enough, you slow down, put on your shoes and call an Uber, which comes quickly, taking you to the lively house.
Jisoo came outside as soon as you texted that you had shown up. She pulls you into the house, heading straight for the drinks, which were surrounded by so many attractive men.
“Y/N, this is Kai, Sehun, Chanyeol, Baekhyun and Kyungsoo.” She says, introducing you. You smile and wave at them all, but one in particular cannot take his eyes off of you.
The seven of you stand around taking shots, talking and laughing for a few minutes, until Kai holds his hand out to you. ‘Wanna dance?” He asks, with a gorgeous smile. You take his hand, smiling back at him before he drags you to the living room.
You're hot as you dance in the crowd of people, Kai’s hands roaming your body as the two of you danced close to each other. His eyes remain on you and yours on his, you are completely oblivious to anything else going on, until Kai is ripped away from you. You look over in shock to see Minho standing there. He walks closer to you, you back up until you can't anymore. His chest pressed against yours as he stared at you.
“What are you doing?” he asks, cocking his head to the side.
“Dancing. What does it look like?” You ask.
Minho is pulled away from you. You see Kai standing there, the collar of Minho's shirt crumpled up in Kai's fists.
“What the fuck, man?” Kai yells, shoving Minho back. “Y/N, Do you know this dude?” He asks.
You sigh, running your hand over your face. “He's my brother's friend.” You say. Kai nods his head, walking away, but keeping a close eye on Minho. You grab Minho's wrist, pulling him outside the house.
“What are you doing here!?” You ask.
He chuckles a humorless laugh. “Why are you trying to make me jealous?” He asks, walking closer to you, moving his face closer to yours.
“Why are you jealous? I'm not your..” you say before he cuts you off.
“Cut the shit.” He breathes, crashing his lips onto yours. His hand presses against the back of your head, pushing into the kiss harder. His lips move against yours as his tongue slides into your mouth, swirling around your own. You wrap your arms around him, bringing your bodies closer together. The sound of someone yelling causes the two of you to break the kiss. Minho pulls you to his car, opening the passenger door for you before moving around to the driver's side. He speeds off, turning down random streets until you hit one that's fully dark. His hand held onto your thigh the entire time, slowly sliding up with each turn.
He puts the car in park, sliding his seat back. You reach over, unbuttoning his pants as he kisses you again, this time with more desperation and neediness. His hands roam your body as he pulls you closer to him and onto him, straddling him. He pulls his cock out before moving your panties to the side. Just as you begin to lower yourself onto him, his phone rings. He grabs it from the cup holder, groaning as Jisung's name flashes across the screen.
“Don't answer.” You breathe, desperate to feel his cock inside you.
He swipes to answer. “Yeah?”
“Did you find her?” Jisung asks. You smirk as you lower yourself onto him, his cock stretching you out. You watch Minho's face as he squeezes his eyes shut, biting his lip to keep from moaning out.
“Yeah, I've got eyes on her - She's fine. I'll get her home soon.” He says, hanging up the phone and tossing it to the seat next to him .
“You lied to him.” You moan as you rock your hips against him, his cock so deep inside you.
“It's not a lie.” He smirks. “I do have eyes on you.” He says, his hands on your hips as he guides you while you ride him. Minho moves his hands all over your body, up to your breasts, pulling them from your dress. He grips them, pulling you closer to him as he slips your nipple into your mouth, sucking on it. You cry out as you bounce on his dick, the feeling of his tongue swirling around your nipple sending you over the edge.
“God damn.” He groans. “You feel so fucking good.”
You smile as you throw your head back, he bucks his hips, pushing himself deeper into you. You run your hands through his hair as you continue grinding on him, your orgasm building so quickly.
“Fuck.” You breathe, squeezing your cunt around him, trying to delay your orgasm but it doesn't work, your eyes roll back as you cry out, your orgasm pulsates through your body.
“Oh fuck.” He groans. “I'm gonna cum.”
“Cum in my pussy.” You breathe, bouncing harder. “I'm on birth control.”
Minho moans loudly as he cums, thrusting himself deeper inside you. The two of you breathe heavily, your chests heaving as you slide off his cock and back into the passenger seat.
The rest of the ride is quiet as he drives back to your house. You walk in the front door, Jisung is in the living room.
“Don't take off again, please.” He sighs, his eyes never leaving the tv.
“Night.” You say, heading up the stairs to take a shower. That night you fall asleep, dreaming of Minho and what this night meant for the two of you.
The next morning you wake up happy as fuck. Happier than you had been in a very long time. It was Saturday and you were excited for the day and what might come of it. You look at the clock, you'd slept in late, it was already 1pm. You went downstairs, seeing Jisung and Minho in the kitchen talking and laughing.
“What's your plan tonight, Y/N?” Jisung asks, popping a candy in his mouth.
“I'm not sure yet.” You smile, glancing at Minho. “What about you?” You ask your brother.
“Gonna have people over later, but first Minho and I are going on a double date.” He laughs.
“Oh?” You partially choke. “A date?”
“Yeah.” Jisung chuckles. “Minho has been talking to Maya for a few weeks. And Jisoo and I are going to join them.” He explains. You look over at Minho, who won't look at you.
“Sounds fun.” You whisper.
“Yeah.” Minho pipes up. “It should be.”
#straykidsland#lee know smut#minho smut#skz smut#stray kids smut#skz fanfic#stray kids fanfic#skz#stray kids#skz minho#stray kids imagines#skz imagines#stray kids scenarios#skz scenarios#kpop fanfic#kpop writing#kpop scenarios#kpop imagines#kpop smut#exo#kai#kim jongin
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school kinda sucks, not even gonna lie
#its been one day#how am i gonna do this for 10 more months??#nothing bad even happened! and it still sucked!#and new uniform rules like oohoohoo that'll make the kids happier#no more sweatpants under my skirt?? have they forgotten we like in canada?? where its fucking freezing??#and we got a lecture in each class about “academic integrity”#and also my hair looked like shit even though it looked good when i woke up#and i have 2 classes with my arch nemesis (some kid i hate for literally no reason other than we compete for top student every year)#very frances and daniel of me#UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH#and my friend who i have a crush on moved schools without telling me (we're not that close)#and moved to my ex's school (they're friends)#but she's twins with my good friend who didn't switch schools so i'll see her again#but i wish she didn't leave#and she told some of my friends i think but i only found out cuz my ex told me (we're still friends)#and also my parents didn't let me go to a concerty thing tonight that i really wanted to go to because i have dance#but now i'm not even going to dance because i'm so fucking tired (i need my full 9 hours)(i got about 5 hours last night)#sorry about how many tags i put but i'm too worried to make an actual long post
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I'm actually kind of mad after wearing a knee brace (with patella support!) for 2 days because I just went down for breakfast not wearing it and my kneecap was wobbling loosely in its socket like it's done for years and I could FEEL how wrong it was and just had the biggest "you LIVE like this??!" moment and now i GUESS I am wearing a knee brace every time I go near stairs forever because it turns out it's not ideal if parts of your body have their own plans for every joint movement.
Mobility aids <3
#mad at myself for not even noticing it was weird even though I've known I have the stretchy joints for years now#honestly I need a full like. Scientific observation from behind glass hooked up to machines and doing silly little tasks for science week#please find out what is happening in here#I also got 1 ankle support and out of curiosity slept in it last night#and omg one foot resting upright made me realise how much the other was flat on the bed#when I lay on my back#the same thing that got me diagnosed in the first place#the rheumatologist who'd just told me I don't have cancer because of the bloodwork had me lie down to examine#he took one look at my flat fuck friday feet and like actually yelled in alarm and recoiled#which took some explaining#anyway he poked and prodded me but he already had said 'oh you have hypermobility and it's given you fibro'#this is why specialists also have to keep up with all the other medicines too :P#(i spent a weekend with my medic friend recently and she has Stories oh my god)#(was too busy talking to look at my feet even as I told her I'd dislocated my ankle and knee as we talked XD)#POINT IS I'm very slow to notice things about my condition#I quit chocolate for a year because I worried it was giving me migraines#and was too busy having migraines to notice the chocolate wasn't what gave me migraines
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look i think the thing people forget is that My Hero Academia is not a typical shounen. Its purposeful. Its well written. Horikoshi does not DO throw away plot-lines. He doesn't ignore plot holes. Over the past 10 years he has proven, time and time and TIME again that this is an incredibly thought out, narrative-driven brilliant story that has taken popular tropes and preconceptions and turned them on their head.
Have a little faith.
#imagine you're in a horikoshi dick-riding competition and you're up against me#but seriously. with the most recent few chapters i'm continuing to be in AWE of what he's revealing and how he's executing it#so many shounens are like: i'm gonna put my guy in a situation!#haha now i'll put him in another situation! forget about what happened in the last arc that don't matter#the ONLY other shounen i can think of that stands anywhere near this in terms of writing is FMA#look ok drag me over the coals i DO NOT CARE#its truly the king series of 'not original idea but fucking stellar execution'#look and i'm not even gonna TALK about the art (jesus fucking christ. horikoshi.)#or the character creation (how did you make us give a shit about a 30+-character ensemble cast? people here are starting WARS over them)#or the WORLD BUILDING THAT IS SO SUBTLE BUT SO POWERFUL#rewatching season 6 (again) in preparation for season 7#and obviously. i am biased. but. dude.#i trust horikoshi with my life#whatever choice he makes on how to end this is right#because LOOK at what he's built over the past 10 years#...dont worry about the posts i just worked 3 night shifts in a row on an amount of sleep some might call#uhhhh. bad#so. don't worry about it. its the delirium#i love you my hero academia
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evening has come again huh
#🌙.vent#i'm really sorry for the vents lately but i need a way to let it out. & this. this is as far as i can go with that#i need to do better again i know i can i have to :') people waiting for me. others n me....#last night i downloaded a game for my friend. for her. & then another friend i told her i'll reply before the day ends :< 'take your time'#she said but sob she opened up abt smth n i wna help i really do & fuck it just hurts too bcs i know the ppl around me are. struggling too#i try not to put others b4 myself if i'm struggling like rn but :< i hate the helplessness. wish i cld do smth more for you#i wish i could at least be enough to help them. for you for you whoever you are i would always be willing to make these sacrifices#i'm gna cry it's been so overwhelming lately bcs i'm filled with so much hope and despair simultaneously#what do i do? which do i choose? how do i decide? how am i supposed to do. enough. find a balance#n then other friends i haven't gotten to replying yet today bcs oh i'm too worn down right now n i hate it so much i'm sorry#& other than all the stuff i want to do for myself and for others there's also things like school n#it hurts you know? i'm very much aware i've been worrying my family lately. i can't. sleep properly. i can't bring myself to finish eating#:< n then it also gets overwhelming when i. look to better things. bcs it gen makes me v happy when. idk i feel inspired or creative or wtv#but it hurts when it's also simultaneously so overwhelming bcs it's so hard to do something with it#& thinking of good memories. how fleeting those moments were. how times have changed. but also of. of how more may come#but maybe. maybe only if i'm better. if i'm not this hollow husk of my usual self? fuck i know i'm too harsh on myself. unnecessary pressur#i'm more than it i know. but at times it's just so hard to feel better when i'm. 🥹 i really really don't want to be a disappointment.#for others n. for myself.... bcs i know as always in the future. wtf the fuck happens then. i do know that parts of me will never change.#wnvr i look into my past i'll always know that i deserved being more kind to myself. bcs i'm human too.#this empty feeling of being stuck somewhere being hope n my despair hurts v much bcs it's so contradicting & overwhelming#n i wish in these moments i cld be enough for my future self. n for those around me#i wish i was better at communicating! tell everyone i know how much i appreciate them! how much i wish they'd stay in my life#i wish i cld really just say but i'm afraid that my honesty might scare you away. so instead i hide. you probably don't feel the same nyway#crying it hurts i think past experiences have made me too used to people leaving. but i can't be vulnerable enough to be#soft enough to the extent of being so honest. i've been hurt before when i was kind n younger n naive sure but oh so innocent#struggling sad n it was so bad then that i. oh i remember how it hurt.... i refuse to let myself go through that extent of loneliness again#i wish though that. i could. revive my mind. my motivation my inspo my creativity hasn't exactly dulled but it's become more passive#am i afraid that if i really be myself then i'll be alone again? if i'm weird if i'm too honest n soft n. i don't know.#it hurts feeling like i'm stuck with being too little n too much at the same time. how do i. just be. enough. for you. for me.#it hurts i'm crying i'm sorry i'm so sorry fuck i'm so overwhelmed n lost i don't want to think right now it feels so empty n i'm tired
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Santa baby are you really there?!
*hears a voice in my backyard*
FUCK SKIN WALKER
- you make Yan skinwalker i’ll do anything to get a skin walker to love me … yes I am 100% mentally stable
I'm not sure if you had something horror-esque in mind, because my immediate idea was Reader accidentally getting cursed and continuing her life completely unaware with a ""dog"" everyone is freaked out by, but she finds it cute. So more like dark comedy vibes. You be the judge. :D
Disclaimer: I have changed the name to Shapeshifter as to not delve into potentially offensive takes on native folklore. Thank you for informing my European ass.
Yandere!Monster x Reader [Shapeshifter]
On your last hiking trip, you've stumbled upon a helpless, lost dog. Or rather, it stalked you down to your cabin and spent the night in front of your window. You didn't have the heart to abandon the poor soul and so you brought it home with you. Strange things have been happening ever since and no one knows how to tell you that the monstrous coyote-like creature might be to blame. You're oblivious to everything.
Content: female reader, dark comedy, monster romance, reader is cursed and proud
It wasn't your intention to return home with a new pet. Some might say it was written in the stars, this fateful encounter of yours. You had finished packing your supplies for a day-long hike, vehemently refusing to join your group of friends that would be guided around by a native. They’d warned you many areas of the mountainous forest were supposedly cursed or haunted, so you just scribbled the limits on your makeshift map and promised to stay on the main trails. After all, this was your chance to commune with nature. As the sun begun to set, you wondered if going by yourself was indeed a smart idea, given your lack of spatial awareness and difficulty to navigate maps. You flipped the piece of paper several times, deep in contemplation. Could it be that you’ve reached the forbidden lands? You quickly surveyed the area: based on the stuffed rag dolls hanging from old branches, and the animal skulls arranged in patterns among patches of burnt grass, it was very much a possibility. Perhaps the improvised slab that said “Stay away” in dripping crimson letters should’ve been enough of a warning, but you assumed they’d just been creative with trail markers.
You didn’t have the time to panic. Just as you were furrowing your eyebrows in a final attempt to decipher the map (at the time upside-down), your ears picked up a faint shuffle of leaves. Further away stood a dog, its glossy eyes fixated on your form. A lost puppy? It seemed to be on the larger side, but then again some breeds grow rather fast. You lowered yourself and patted your knees, whispering diminutives in an effort to call the animal over. It remained in place, staring quietly. Alright, then. You focused on finding your way back instead. Every now and then you'd turn back and see the dog, motionlessly eyeing you at a constant distance. Oh, dear. Was it lost? Frightening affair.
Back at the cabin you told the others about your discovery, with a hint of worry in your voice. You hoped the little pup had found proper shelter. You'd expected a similar reaction coming from your friends, but one of them suggested: "What if it was some shapeshifting monster? There's many legends and stories from the area." Everyone laughed and you joined hesitantly, mildly annoyed by the lack of empathy. That night you barely slept, twisting and turning under the heavy feeling of being watched. You woke up tired and nervous, dragging your feet towards the window for some fresh air. That's when you saw the same forest creature, fully awake and tall in its glory, positioned before your room. This was no coincidence. You had been plagued by the guilt of abandoning a vulnerable quadruped and you weren't about to continue as a passive observer. You strode out without a word and lifted the large dog with a huff, carrying it back in to figure out the transport logistics.
Thus started the unexpected companionship. To you, it's a lovely tale of two lost souls finding one another. Most people seem to disagree. Can you blame them? The rescued puppy you often speak of is, in the eyes of everyone else, a monstrous beast by all definitions. It resembles a coyote more than a dog, but even this description is too gentle. The fur is always raised threateningly and the protruding clusters of fangs remind one of the anatomical anomalies displayed in museums. The eyes, oh, the worst of all perhaps, bottomless depths that pull you in until you run out of air. The creature stares with the all-knowing gaze of a human. "Don't be rude", you snap at whoever dares to point these details out. "It must be a mixed breed or something."
Their persistence is truly ridiculous. You've even had guests run out in panic, claiming the dog stood on its back legs and whispered in a language unknown. Or that its shadow would morph into a grotesque man with claws and crooked antlers. Or that they've found it hunched over your sleeping form, its spine twisted outwards with jagged peaks breaking through the wild fur. Rubbish, all of it.
Strange things have been happening, no doubt, but your adopted fur-child has no blame to carry. You've been trying to distract yourself, going on dates and occasionally bringing potential suitors over. They all vanish overnight, nonchalantly leaving an empty, ruffled bed for you to wake up to. "Am I just unlucky?" You sigh, running your fingers through the coarse fur of your dog. It lowers itself under your touch, visibly enjoying the affection. For a split second, it glances out the window. By the time you come out of your depressed slump, the birds should've finished feeding on the remains. He made sure to tear and grind everything fine enough to not leave any marks behind.
That's how curses work, after all. He didn't expect, however, that you'd be utterly unaware of it. He has to give you the credit, not many people become stalked by an ancient curse and continue their life in blissful ignorance. Even more, for them to just casually pick up the haunting entity and bring it inside their home willingly...You're, uh, certainly a special one. Hence the change of plans. He was supposed to torment you into an early grave, but he's grown rather attached to your bizarre antics. And you do provide some damn good chin scratches. He's therefore satisfied with causing anguish and destruction to anything and anyone in your immediate vicinity instead. Since you've been complaining about the resulting isolation...
You wake up with a gasp, wiping your drenched forehead and checking the sheets. The dog is curled next to you, although its head is now tilted in your direction. "O-oh. It might be the loneliness talking...but I had the strangest dream." How troubling and embarrassing. Your beloved pet had turned into a deformed, monstrous man instead, pinning you down and hungrily grazing your skin with his sharp teeth. Your fearful protests eventually turned into shameless moans, your frail body at the mercy of the mysterious beast. It unfolded so vividly that your core feels sore. You stretch a sheepish hand towards your pet and abruptly stop halfway, noticing the marks diffused into your wrist, like violet smudges of watercolor. What the hell did you do last night?
The dog buries its head under the sheets and nuzzles its snout into your soft flesh. Heh. How many more disappearing guests will be needed for you to figure out your situation? He does find your obliviousness terribly amusing, as well as your willingness to clutch onto him despite his unsightly appearance. He was feeling particularly cheeky and thought of giving you a little scare, only to be once again taken aback by your neediness. He has to wonder who exactly is trapped in this situation, because your reactions to everything he does are frighteningly tempting. Maybe tonight he'll finally let you know, just as you're about to come undone beneath his heaving body. Something like, hmmm. "By the way, love, this isn't a dream." He could even add a little "woof" to tease you more.
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere x darling#yandere headcanons#yandere imagines#yandere scenarios#yandere monster#yandere monster x reader#horror#monster x reader#monster romance#yandere oc#monster smut#monster boyfriend#terato#teratophillia#monster fucker
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Light On - single mom/neighbors fic
Simon Riley/female reader
Prompt: Your apartment floods. Inspired by and for @liliumbosniacum
"I need to take leave."
Simon's phone is pressed against his face, one hand holding the device, the other with a canvas bag in his hand, it's contents overflowing: blankets, baby clothes, your pillow.
"Everything alright?" Price sounds suspicious, but more curious than anything, and Simon sighs.
"Neighbor's flat flooded. She's got nowhere else to go so I'm letting 'em stay with me for a while." Price, thank fucking god, doesn't push it any further, disconnecting with a rumble about checking in with him next week, wishing him a happy holiday, and a parting good luck.
When he hangs up, you're standing hesitantly in his doorway, pile of clothes in your arms.
"That the last of it?" He asks, and you nod.
"Are y-you sure this is okay?" You're still upset, shaken, and he doesn't blame you. You were terrified when you woke up to bone chilling, ankle deep water, frantically shouting about a burst pipe into the phone over Emmaline's shrieks.
"It's okay, sweetheart. I've got plenty of room." He does. His flat is larger than yours, and though they're both two bedroom floor plans, his bedrooms are bigger, and he has two bathrooms, compared to your one. "I got the crib reassembled in the guest room." He motions to the door that's half opened, a few bags of Emmaline's stuff collected on the floor.
"Thank you." you murmur, and then step forward, burying your face in his chest. He holds you there, rubbing your back, working his thumb into the knot that sits at the base of your neck. “At least we saved the tree,” you laugh, wet and sad, and he hums, bowing to press his lips to your forehead.
“I’m sorry love.”
“It’s alright.” You shrug. “Nothing I could control.” You’ve got a point there, and he appreciates the approach, marvels at your ability to not be angry or frustrated with your neighbor, even though it wasn’t really their fault as well. He’s irritated for both of you, anxious over visualizing what would have happened if the chunk of the ceiling that fell was misplaced and landed on you, or Emma.
You pull away, face twisted up into something that looks painful, tears on your lash line, and he frowns. “Hey, hey. It’s okay, sweetheart, c’mon. It’s alright.”
“I know.” You cry, clamping your hand over the bridge of your nose and trying to turn away. “It’s just all her gifts we-were in my room and now they’re ruined, and-“
“Okay, so we’ll get more. We still have plenty of time.” He reassures, rubbing his palms up and down your arms until you come back to him, letting him fold you back into his embrace. “We’ll fix it. Don’t worry.”
“We will?” You sniffle, and he nods.
“I’m on leave, until after the holiday, so I’ll be around, we can go shopping and replace everything. It’s going to be alright. I promise.” That word slips out of him again, promise. I promise, just like he told you this morning when you were frantic and he said it was okay that you stayed with him, I promise, just like he assured last night when you apologized for Emmaline crying for most the evening. “Okay?” His chin rests on the top of your head, and he turns to kiss you, the touch as soft as he can manage. You hum, and then sigh into him.
“Okay Simon.”
“I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“No.” His refusal is immediate, and you look at him in near exasperation.
“Simon I can’t kick you out of your bed! You’re too big for the couch, anyway, and I don’t mind, I’ve slept on a couch plenty. Plus I’ll be able to hear better, when Emmaline wakes-“
“Sweetheart.” You’re in the living room, bouncing Emmaline in your arms, walking back and forth in front of the fireplace. She’s wearing a red and white striped onesie, like a candy cane, and Simon chuckles when she makes grabby hands at him as he approaches. You sigh, and he tucks his hands under her, lifting her away and into his arms, pleased at how you instantly relax and stretch your back and shoulders in response. “Think you’re getting too big for mama, baby girl.” You roll your eyes, playfully knocking your elbow into his side, and he grunts. “You’re not kicking me out of my own bed.”
“No?” You turn with a hand on your hip, other one holding a half full bottle.
“No, well. I mean-“ he falters, suddenly losing his confidence. “I’m happy to let you have it, or…” He can’t get the words right, can’t communicate what it is he wants to tell you, too worried about scaring you off or being too forward, pushing you too far.
“Or?” You look so pretty, standing in his flat, your belongings, Emma’s, strewn about, just your presence alone making this place feel more like a home than it ever has before. He feels dizzy, overflowing with emotion when Emma lays her head down on his chest, and you smile at her, looking back up at him, delicate, sweet smile on your lips. He bends, tilting your face upwards to meet his, lips ghosting against one another as Emma coos from his arms.
“Or… we can share it.”
#me slowly pressing my dolls together like#peaches writes#simon riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#light on
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"K', new situation"
The remote was out of your reach because you kept pausing the shows, and Katsuki had enough of watching every episode like there was a connection problem.
"Hit me," he said, resting his head on the wall of your dorm.
It became a habit that you and him watched shows together at your dorm, every Thursday night, no excuse. Last week, you started watching "Queen Charlotte," and even though Katsuki didn't want to watch the show, you convinced him to give it a chance, and now, he was the one who didn't want you to pause it.
"What if...-no, no, ok, let me start over." You tripped on your questions, and Katsuki found it adorable. "Imagine this, you are royalty and someone with more power than you, force you to marry someone you don't know...are you following me?" You paused at his quizzed face.
"Yeah, I am," he simply answered.
"So they force you to marry someone you don't know and you have no interest in. What would you do?"
"Mm, I would probably cheat on her multiple times, make her so unhappy, and be a dick of a husband," he side eyed you while answering because he couldn't get his eyes off of the screen and because he wanted to watch you freaking out at his answer. He could do both.
"Are you serious?" You couldn't believe what was coming out of his mouth. "Jesus, Katsuki, what an asshole"
You stomped to his body and reached the remote to put the show on pause.
"Not again. Why do you do this to me?" He whined. He was getting upset, but you were more upset because he wasn't taking serious the situation game.
"Why are you like that? Don't you think that maybe an arrangement marriage is the perfect occasion to find true love? You obviously skipped a step, but now you have all the time in the world to know a person, the details, the way they like their tea in the morning, the things that make them upset. I think it's lovely and romantic. " You day dreamed, and Katsuki couldn't bear the fact that you and him were so different. He liked it, finding a way to make opposites attract situations happened in his life.
"I think it's opposite ends. There's only two ways to go. It's extremely good or extremely bad"
"Yeah, you're right," you gave in. He was the one who didn't believe in love after all. You've had multiple boyfriends in the span of two years, always falling for the jerks, like Katsuki always said, but you never denied the opportunity of starting over. You put the show again and sank on your spot.
Your quietness made Katsuki uncomfortable. You spent the rest of the episode without pusing the show, not for situation game or going to pee and that was very weird of you.
Before the next episode started, Katsuki himself paused it.
"You didn't like what I said," he stated looking at you.
You were dissociating, actually, you weren't mad at him, you were just thinking about him, about how you were feeling towards his feelings, you were upset because you knew that If you had feelings for him (that you already had) he wouldn't give himself a chance with you and you would be head over heels for him, making the situation unfair to you and your feelings. What you were thinking wasn't any close to the situation that you gave him. It wasn't something settled between you and him. It was more about his vision of love, the opposite ends example.
"No, it's not that it's just -" you sighed. You didn't want to make things awkward between Katsuki and you. You found a steady ground where you could enjoy each other's company without making it any weird. "I don't know, Bakugo."
He seemed astonished.
"Mm, last name basis now, huh? Must be something serious. " he moved from his seat to put his figure in front of you. "Use your words, I know you can fucking talk"
Sometimes, he called yourself for eating his ear off because you couldn't shut up. He was trying to make you feel comfortable with him again.
"See, it's just... I'm feeling kinda worried about you because I've never seen you with someone else. I want you to find love, to be happy, to face love, and dare to take a chance on someone, you know? And maybe I'm misunderstanding things here, and you don't want any of that. " You stumble through your words, taking his face in. He looked like he was thinking, but his eyes were analyzing your face like it was the first time he ever saw you. "I don't want you to think that I'm pitying you -"
"I do want to experience love," he said, glancing briefly to your lips and then your eyes. "And maybe I'm just waiting for the right one," he muttered, getting closer to you.
You were stoic in your place. Thoughts running in your head, the gears in your brain trying to figure what was happening and if it was just a dream. Maybe you were just imagining things, and now you feared to take the wrong step.
"You do?" You asked, feeling his presence in your space asking whatever came to your mind so you could have more time to think about this situation.
"Yeah, but she keeps dating assholes"
He grinned a little, trying to give away the slightest clue about his feeling but the exact amount of it so you could realize what he was saying.
For his own luck, you were pretty clever sometimes.
"Well, maybe, no one ever showed her better." You squeezed yourself between his legs while he was still sitting with his legs crossed. He parted his legs at your movement and grabbed your waist to keep you close. "I dated assholes because you were too busy demonstrating you didn't care when I dated them"
"Is that so?" He asked humming.
"Yeap," you nodded like a child, playing with your hands in your lap, concentrating in them.
"I'm sorry for not interrupting sooner," he moved his head to his side, trying to catch your eyes.
"You better be," you told him, giggling. It was an unexplored field. You were distracting yourself for the upcoming event.
"We haven't even kissed yet, and you already have an attitude with me? Get a fucking grip" he joked while taking your hands apart.
"Jeez, you should check yourself and look for the stick that's up in your asshole. You are so dense sometimes. "
You pushed him slightly, and he tugged your hands against his chest, caging you without any escape routes.
"Just shut the fuck up"
Without any warning, he crashed his lips against yours with feverish force. His grip in your hands fell so he could touch every part of your body thoroughly. Your arms clinged behind his back, closing the gap between the two of you. Your fingers touched the nape of his neck, tugging his hair every time he bit your lips.
You two were out of air, so you were forced to step back a little. His nose touched yours, and he gave you soft pecks in your lips before opening his mouth.
"No more dating assholes" he warned.
"Mmhm," you nodded, biting your lip. "You better stop acting like one then"
#bnha bakugou#bakugou smut#bakugo smut#bakugo x reader#bakugo headcanons#mha bakugo katsuki#mha x reader#my hero academy fanfiction#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugo katsuki#mha bakugo x reader#mha bakugou#mha#bnha bakugo katsuki#bnha x reader#bnha#katsuki bakugou#bakugou x reader#bakugou katsuki#katsuki bakugo mha
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Sincerely, Yours:
bestfriend!steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: a movie night, a confession, an offer, your Calvin's bunched up on the floor of your best friend's BMW...and other places | 18+ Only, NSFW | main menu
the song: Don't You (Forget About Me) by Simple Minds - all of steve's music
6.6k words
warnings: "inexperienced" reader - in the form of never really making out/receiving none/not great foreplay - masturbating for comfort/ease before sex, SMUT (public - in the back of Steve's car - "caught" by Hopper when you're done, oral, fingering, steve cums in his levi's cause I'm a sucker for doing this to him, what can I say?)
A/N: Once upon a time, I asked for requests, and I failed to fulfill many of them (you may have heard this story before), but this one sat in the drafts for many many months, and then I really chickened out posting it for a long time. Everyone say thanks to @palmtreesx3 - I owe her and the request for the prompt "we're not really just best friends, are we?"(which isn't even used in this, but you get the picture) and The Breakfast Club for this fic 💛
He didn’t hear it at first, over the last remaining popping kernels.
“What?” He called around a mouthful of the snack he was already dipping into before it was finished.
In the other room, your attention was strictly on Judd Nelson, but you tried again, with no real power or meaning behind the words.
“Want me to pause it?”
“No,” he shook his head and rolled his eyes to no one but himself in the kitchen, “Don’t think you need to pause the movie I’ve seen three times…this week.”
“I’d love one, thanks!”
Steve snorted at your response that made no sense, it becoming apparent you weren’t listening to him at all.
He should have known this was his fate after the way you acted when it was showing at The Hawk. You saw it with him, then Robin, then Nancy, and Steve put his foot down when you tried to drag him down there for a fourth time.
Now here he was, dumping the popcorn into a large bowl and watching it again. He didn’t even know what number of views he was on with you, which had him worried about your sanity, ‘cause you had to be watching it without him too.
Steve snagged two cans of Coke out of the fridge, assuming that’s what you’d love one of, and kicked the door closed with his heel.
He cradled the popcorn bowl against his side and held each of the cans with one hand and spread fingers, socked feet slipping on the hardwoods when he rounded the corner and saw you again.
Despite becoming incredibly bored by the movie, he did love watching you watch it, because somehow, it’s as if you’re watching it for the first time every time.
Your white tube socks were stark against the dark wood of the coffee table, bunching around your ankles that led him to the exposed skin of your calves. Which led to the way your blue skirt fanned over your thighs all nice, then the Queen shirt he got you for your birthday tucked into it, your thumb between your teeth with your eyebrows bunched together.
His best friend was really fucking pretty.
He almost said it out loud, which had him flopping onto the couch a little quickly, a little too heavy with his fall. Careless in his aim of the cushion and causing popcorn to spill from the bowl into your lap as his shoulder jostled yours.
Before he could even say sorry, you were grabbing the popcorn from your lap like it was the bowl, blissfully unaware it wasn’t, all the while making heart eyes at dreamy Bender.
“Thanks,” your appreciation came out heavy around the buttery and salty handful of the snack, the Coke you’d love sitting on the coffee table, already forgotten.
Steve hummed, his amused lips twitched in a losing fight against a smile at your captivated stare fixated on the screen. He suppressed an eye roll at the scene about to happen, as he swiped condensation off the cool metal of the can with his thumb.
He popped the drink open with a loud hiss, slurping his first sip - a habit you’d normally swat at his chest for - but you were too busy focusing on the words about to leave Judd’s mouth.
“Have you ever kissed a boy on the mouth?”
They sort of just tumbled out of Steve too, while his eyes glanced over the popcorn bowl, searching for a perfectly buttery piece. Which is why he didn’t see that he, your best friend, quoting the scene that has dialogue that got you all hot and bothered more than others, had your entire body freezing.
Steve tossed the acquired piece into the air, catching it in his mouth before he turned to face your profile. He found you with widened eyes, chest rising and falling a little too quickly, and he grinned.
“Have you ever been felt up…over the bra…under the blouse…your shoes off, hoping to god your parents don’t walk in?”
He’s simply delighted when he quotes the scene again and your body shifts, toes curling as you arched your neck away from. You kept your eyes on the screen, not giving him the satisfaction of eye contact because of what he was slowly, finally, realizing.
You were totally turned on and he couldn’t wait to tease you about it forever.
Steve leaned in closer, whispering along with the movie, “Over the panties…no bra…blouse unbuttoned…Calvin’s in a ball on the front seat past eleven on a school night?”
He’s gearing up, about to tease you, make some dumb boy comment about being hot for the school freak, when your quiet, barely a breath response had him pausing.
“No.”
Did you just say that out loud?!
Your head turned to find Steve blinking at you, creases in his forehead deepening beneath the stray locks of hair that fell forward.
Looks like you did.
“Ste-”
“What? What do you mean no?”
Your eyes closed when you both spoke at the same time, avoiding his curious stare. Hands roamed to your cheeks to hide your face as your head fell towards your knees.
As you shook your head no, your response gets muffled into your skirt. “I meant no.”
Steve’s hand nudged at your shoulder, prodding for clarity and for you to sit up. He failed to sound casual when his question came out incredulously.
“No, you’ve never kissed a guy?”
Your hands still covered your face as you fell back against the couch with a groan, “No, I..I have. I just…”
Steve pulled at your hands, his heart racing like it was overtime. All these years, he thought you’d been with all these other guys, his quiet jealousy seething under the surface of his tinged green from envy skin.
A breath, well, more of a huff really, slipped past your lips as your gaze dropped to the hands holding yours in your lap. “I’ve never really made out with anyone? Just like…a quick kiss or two. I don’t even know, can you even count it as kissing? Over before it starts kind of thing…”
The ramble trailed off, the room silent save for the movie still playing and the giant, loud, big, fat, zero response from Steve. You counted the threads in the carpet, the pieces of popcorn in the bowl as your skin grew hotter and hotter from the reveal he’s left just hanging there until he finally sputtered out a sorry excuse for one.
“Are you shitting me? We’re like…old.”
It doesn’t come out how he meant it to at all, he’s just shocked. He’s wincing almost immediately as the words reach his ears and brain, he knows how it sounded. He wishes he could take it back when your head whips up, hurt eyes meeting his as you ripped your hands away from him.
“Yeah, Steve,” you scoffed, jaw pulsing as your voice dripped with sarcasm that tried to cover the embarrassment, “I’m shitting you. Thought it’d be real funny to trick you into thinking your best friend is a loser who’s barely been kissed even though she’s so old.”
Pieces of popcorn fell from your lap as you stood, not letting yourself wonder where they came from as you stomped around the coffee table and towards his entryway.
“No, honey, wait-” he stumbled after you, spilling Coke down the front of his shirt as he did, “Shit.”
He patted at his chest like it’d do anything, shirt damp and sticking to his skin as he rounded the corner and found you lacing up your converse and shaking your head.
“It’s fine, Steve. I’m fine. I just don’t feel like talking about it. I’m gonna go home. Don’t worry about it. Girl stuff.”
“No, please, I didn’t mean-”
His words stopped just as abruptly as your body, when the front door swung open to reveal an out of nowhere downpour.
Your head fell as you started to ask, and he was already one step ahead of you.
“Can you please-”
“I’ll grab my keys.”
He was tripping up his stairs by the time he finished saying it. When he returned, it was in a clean shirt, jumping from the second to last step as he swirled the keys around his pointer finger.
The light blue fabric of his new shirt pulled at his shoulders that hunched when your glare remained unwavering despite the apologetic puppy dog eyes he had going for him.
You understood Steve didn’t mean for the comment to start the hole he was digging, and you knew you weren’t being fair for being so upset. It’s not like it was his fault, it was just your own insecurities manifesting in an anger towards him.
The nagging feeling of being some sort of freak who’d never made out while even the little twerps who clung to Steve were, while your best friend was Steve Harrington, former king of Hawkins High only grew stronger. The thought of Steve thinking you were some sort of weirdo for being old and never making out had something in your gut churning, had a familiar sting behind your eyes forming that you tried your best to ignore.
When Steve opened his mouth, about to try to make it all better again, you simply turned on your heel and stalked out into the rain. He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at the way you stomped through it, pretending to not be drowned.
He quickly rushed behind you and got to the door first and swung it open, to which you rolled your eyes at, but slid in and got comfortable while he closed it for you nonetheless.
Unsure why he went and changed as he raced around the hood and shot into the driver’s seat, totally soaked through to his skin now. He cranked the heat before swiping fingers over his eyes, a large hand ran through his hair and pushed it back only for it to fall into his eyes again. Steve reached over with wet and shaking fingers at the same time you held yours up, both of you pausing and glancing at the other’s hands.
Steve was about to cup your fingers between his and blow warm breath onto them, just like he always did, but you ripped your hands down to your lap, and curled your body against the door, like you needed to be as far from him as you could be.
Your damp forehead touched the cool glass of the window as he sighed, “Please don’t-”
“Just take me home, please?”
The tone in which the words were said has something in his chest breaking. Like you were really fucking sad, embarassed, it was a real plea to just take you home and leave you alone.
So he wasn’t gonna do that, ‘cause he never was a great listener, so why start now?
He pretends though, he backs out of the driveway and heads in the direction of your apartment. He lets the radio fill the space and he turns the heat down when the air inside the car is heavier and warm despite your cold shoulder. The orange glow of the street lights slanted inside the car in a soothing rhythm as his wheels spun over the pavement until he was coming to the last four way stop before your apartment.
It unfolds just as he had planned, when he’s still stopped at the deserted intersection, as your breath fogged up the glass when you asked, “Harrington, you planning on leaving the intersection anytime soon?”
His bottom lip wobbled as his teeth continued to press into it, thick fingers rubbing at a scruff dotted jaw as he thought out loud in an attempt to sway you.
“Well, you see, I could go straight and take you home-” he started.
“Right. Let’s do that.” You waved your hand towards the direction of the apartment that held the ice cream you were desperate to eat and wallow with while watching Pretty In Pink.
“Or,” Steve interrupted right back, tapping on the steering wheel with his finger as he did, “I could go to the right. Pull into the diner. Buy you a milkshake and say sorry?”
The thing was, he was gonna go to the right regardless of your answer. He knew once you pulled into the parking lot there was no way you’d not at least go in and get fries and a shake, if not a whole burger. You’d done this dance before, him putting his foot in his mouth was not a new occurrence.
Your lips twitched, but your arms stayed crossed as he hummed and whispered, “Tough choice…tough choice…”
Shoulders fell in defeat, but your mouth stayed downturned in a forced frown as you grumbled, “And fries.”
Steve smiled, turned on his blinker and nodded. He cleared his throat.
“And fries. Definitely.”
“And none of that you order yourself a vanilla shake and I order strawberry and you drink half of mine because it’s better and eat all the fries shit.”
“Of course,” Steve scoffed, “I would never do that.”
Steve slipped his straw into your shake, pulling the glass across the sticky tabletop as you did the same with his. He tried not to smirk around the straw when you did, dipping a fry in his vanilla he ordered for a reason despite the strawberry being better.
“Do you think Claire is a prude for never doing anything?”
He shook his head no almost immediately, swiping at stray ice cream from the corner of his mouth with his tongue.
You fiddled with the straw wrapped between your fingers and narrowed your eyes at him.
“Would your answer be the same if, say, Eddie was sitting here asking you? Not me, your best friend, who you have sudden pity for?”
He blinked at you and sighed, “I don’t have pity for you.”
“Your mouth and your eyes are telling two different stories Harrington,” you waved a fry at him as you spoke, gesturing to his face with it.
Your gaze stayed on the fry you were ripping in half, focused on watching it sink into the sweet vanilla as he dared to say, “I just don’t get it.”
“What, that I haven’t done that and I’m so old,” you tried to tease, to move past it.
But the way you were licking salt off your finger had him wondering if he swiped his own through the salt on the tray and pushed the pad against your lips if they would part like they were now, if he could taste it on your lips if he just leaned forward and-
“No, ‘cause you’re so fucking pretty.”
He definitely said it out loud that time.
You blinked at him, cheeks suddenly too warm for the cold and damp Spring that had been surrounding you all day.
“Ste-”
“And so smart,” he licked his lips, leaning forward, unable to stop now that it was out, “And funny. And…and sweet, you’ve got the biggest heart of anyone I know, I just don’t understand how guys aren’t falling over themselves, unable to do anything but make out with you, or more or-”
“I never said I didn’t do more,” you whispered, ignoring all of his compliments that made your chest feel all tight and sticky and choosing to argue with him instead because that was easier.
“But you said…if you haven’t made out with anyone…”
Your body slipped lower against the squeaky seat, embarrassed as you shrugged and Steve felt too hot in the tiny little booth, thinking about all those guys’ hands on you again, and then what you said, what it meant, really clicked.
“Hold on…how…how’d…you didn’t, build up to it?” He asked softly, eyes bouncing over your face with worry.
“Steve,” you grabbed for the other shake, and sat up straighter, “We don’t need to talk about this. It’s not import-”
“It’s so important,” he grabbed your hand and squeezed your fingers lightly, “Half the fun is all the build up to it. And,” he swallowed, forehead creasing with deeper worry, “And then it, it doesn’t hurt. ‘Cause tell me if I’m wrong, but if they weren’t making out with you, were they doing anything to make sure you felt good?”
You squirmed in your seat, fingers pushing up against his mindlessly, aimlessly, as you shrugged again. “It’s only hurt a few times. I learned that if I…um, If I got myself ready beforehand, that I was, uh, more comfortable.”
Steve’s fingers let go of yours with the excuse of grabbing a fry, because he was trying not to be a gross guy, but all he could think about was you in your bedroom, with your fingers between your thighs now. Did you play music? What song? Did you have underwear on? What color? With a shirt that your nipples were visibly hard through as you touched yourself and maybe it was his shirt or maybe you said his name or-
“Right,” Steve nodded, “Um, right. And that’s great, lots of people do that for a date, so like if you need or want to beforehand that’s not…that’s great. It just shouldn’t be the only thing, you know? They should be putting in the work, they should be wanting to. And dates! They should watch a movie with you, and dinner and drive around and then kiss so much you feel dizzy and then if you want, more.”
He finished his rambling speech and you smiled softly, unsure of what to say, because you knew he wasn’t wrong, it’s just that they had.
“They did,” you sighed, “Well, not Paul.”
Steve scowled at the table, “Yeah, well, I’m sure you weren’t missing much. Who wants to yell out Paul?”
“Oh,” you laughed, “And Steve is so much better?”
He looked up at you, your smile sweet and kind and your eyes a little sad, but trying not to be and he wanted to say yes. He wanted to tell you that if it was those lips and that voice saying it, it was better, because how could it not be? Like his name only had the best letters, like it belonged to the best guy in the world, one that belonged to you and no one else.
But you were swiping at ice cream on your lips and sighing, saying something that made his chest ache instead.
“They were nice dates. And it’s not like the sex was bad. But,” you looked out the window, eyes tracking the droplets of rain twinged neon from the light hanging above you both, “The kissing till I’m dizzy sounds nice. Is it…is it fun?”
“Yeah,” Steve whispered, admiring the way the red and blue lit up your profile before you turned to face him.
And then he was saying something before he really thought it through, because god you weren’t just fucking pretty, you were the most beautiful person he’d ever met and no way in hell was he letting anyone treat you the way you’d been ever again. So this was his chance, and he was taking the leap.
“I could…” he blew out a breath and smiled. He sat up straighter, and he searched for some sort of lingering king steve confidence he could latch onto without all the douche as he asked, “I could show you?”
To both of your surprise, you’d said yes, and he paid and you were in the car, driving, and parked somewhere in what felt like seconds. Now your best friend sat across from you, both of you facing the center console, but not daring to do more.
The rain beat against the roof of the maroon car, each drop a punctuated tick of a nonexistent clock - a meter for how much time was passing without movement, without words. Just both of your breathing filled the space. First exhaling, then desperately inhaling for more air as your chests rose and fell ragged. And then, like in some unspoken agreement only best friends can have, you both started to lean forward cause you just knew.
Your heart’s thrum threatened to drown out the rain, building and building, screaming to break out of your chest, pounding in your ears while your cheeks grew warm and your stomach dipped as Steve’s tongue slipped out quickly and wetted his lips.
But then he leaned and his eyes started to close and you giggled, fingers slipping over your lips as his eyelids shot open.
“Sorry,” you gasped and shook your head and your hands out as you tried to be serious, “Your ‘I’m about to kiss you’ face is real cute, Harrington.”
Tried being the definitive word.
“Cute?” He groaned, smiling, “Not sexy?”
You leaned in, faster this time, a smile matching his as you shrugged, “It’s nice. Never thought I’d be on the opposite side of it, is all.”
It’s easy to tilt your head and welcome the hand that reached up to cradle your jaw as he softly promised, “Your ‘I’m about to be kissed face’ is really cute too.”
The pad of his thumb brushed over the apple of your cheek in the tenderest touch you’d ever felt, before his fingers curled under your jaw and tilted you gently, slowly, up so his lips were right over yours.
It felt like he was handling you like the most precious and fragile thing, like a prized possession that he’d only ever hold with care and never let another soul touch.
His breath fanned over yours, warm and sweet smelling, vanilla and cherry just out of reach for you to taste as you dared to quip back again. “Alright, I’m gonna have to cross reference these lines with other girls you’ve promised to make dizzy, Harrington, cause if that’s the first time you’ve used that, I’m afraid it’s far too smooth…”
Steve’s heart felt like it was trying to claw out of his chest as you laughed, smiling at him when he responded, “And, I think that’s enough out of you.”
Which you couldn’t help but reply back to with, “Yeah? Have some fancy trick to get me to stop talking?”
He laughed, low, muffled and deep in his chest. “A few.”
A sharp inhale slipped past your lips when his nose bumps yours, not realizing how close he’d gotten while you joked back and forth nervously. There wasn’t a protocol on how to let your best show you a proper make out, on how to just dive in and start, you just knew you wanted to.
Steve’s swallow bobbed his adams apple as the leather beneath you creaked from shifting weight, needing to get closer. And as you did, his eyes found yours, mossy and dark in the low light, the browns and golds washed away in the rain. Their gaze flitted down to your lips, back up to fluttering eyelashes, and then his own eyelids were closing.
All it took was another breath in, an exhale out, and his lips were on yours. A simple, slow press, holding your top lip between the both of his. Strawberry and vanilla teasing you, and soon he was moving, now bottom lip between his and you got it. Your mouths parted together, lips slotting in a rhythm that came naturally, that clicked.
Something in your stomach fizzled and crackled like the sparklers you lit every year in his driveway on the fourth as the sigh from his nose hit your cheek. Body warm and sticky in a way that was usually reserved for Summer when his fingers skated over your jaw, up and around your ear, until they were cradling the back of your neck and pulling you closer. His mouth moved with yours in a way that could only be described as frantically graceful - needing more, hurried, hungry, but with the promise and precision of someone who knew what he was doing. It had your stomach dipping, like a freefall, like the greatest and scariest thing you’d ever felt.
If he’d have opened his eyes, he’d have found you with your hands suspended between your bodies though. Fingers not quite brave enough to reach up and get lost in his hair, but not content to just sit in your lap and do nothing either.
And if you'd opened your eyes, you’d have found his other hand gripping the center console like he was hanging on for dear life. ‘Cause holy shit was he trying to go slow, but kissing you was like chasing the last few minutes of sunlight in July - sweet and fleeting and magic - something you needed to make last, to soak up every last drop of until you couldn’t any more, not by choice, but because the sun has to set and he has to breathe.
In a shared gasp for air, you parted, but his lips were back on yours immediately, making your stomach swoop even more, like an entire family of butterflies had decided - hey, we live here now and we’re gonna make a ruckus so get used to it.
You didn’t mind.
Steve’s fingers found yours and without breaking his rhythm, he tugged, guiding them to his shoulders that were practically on your side of the console now, which wasn’t doing something great to his already somersaulting stomach.
He slowed down as your fingers brushed over and back on the collar of his shirt and his hands cradled both of your cheeks, pulling you off of his lips regretfully. You were both breathing like you’d run a marathon, his forehead pressed to yours as he gasped out, “Dizzy yet?”
“No,” you lied.
He grinned, tip of his nose tracing the bridge of yours as he admitted, “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to kiss you like that.”
You couldn’t even respond, couldn’t tell him you wanted that too, couldn’t tell him that it was something you only dared let a daydream or two convince you it could happen before you were shutting it down, cause he was still talking.
“And now that I have,” he swallowed, his thumbs glided down opposite sides of your neck as he shook his head, “I’m never stopping.”
Then he was kissing you again, and if you thought he was frantic before…
You had this feeling that even if those other guys had made out with you, kissing them wasn’t and never would be the same as kissing Steve Harrington.
Soon one of your feet was on the seat, the other bracing yourself in the footwell. He had a hand on your hip and the other on the back of your neck and yours were finally starting to dare to journey past their spot on his shoulders and then your skirt was caught on the gearshift and he was stopping you again.
“Honey, what are you doing?”
“So was that ‘never stopping’ just a nice sentiment or are you planning to back it up with action?” You huffed, distracted by pink lips that twisted into a crooked smile as he looked at your pretzeled body.
Your shoulders fell as you nodded your head towards his side of the car and admitted, “I just want to be closer.”
“Oh, right.” Steve swallowed, and you wondered if it’d be weird if you kissed every freckle and mole you could find on his throat. Something told you he wouldn’t mind when he asked, a little more eager than you’d heard tonight, “Backseat?”
And you clambered out of the car, the slowing rain soothing to heated and flushed skin under the mussed clothes, and then you were both meeting in the backseat, but the nerves returned. The way you both glanced at the space between you and were immediately and acutely aware of the lack of anything between you except doubt and fear. Was this a mistake? What about your friendship?
Steve looked at the space, at you, and then held up his finger in the symbol for one sec as he said, “Hold on,” and half climbed back into the front seat. His torso draped over the console as he loudly opened the glovebox and rummaged around inside, before he was fiddling with the radio, and falling back into the seat.
His cheeks pink, but his smile wide as he looked at you again. “Hey! I’m so glad we could do this tonight. You look beautiful. Ready to watch your favorite movie?”
“Wh-what?” You laughed, totally and utterly confused.
He tugged on your fingers, and pulled you to the middle, until you were slouched next to each other, shoulders touching as he shushed and said, “The Breakfast Club is starting.”
And the music playing over the radio,Simple Minds, a cassette he must have put in, had your chest swelling with something that was sure to burst and explode and kill you, because the boy was actually pretending you were on a couch, on a date, in a living room, watching a movie - it was perfectly Steve and you, and the best first date you’d ever been on.
His left hand picked up yours, resting it on your thigh and played with your fingers. The pads of his traced up and down and over your hand as he stared at the windshield, his temple resting against yours. The music played, and his fingertips swooped between the curves of each finger aimlessly, the sides of his fingers running down yours and back up making it really hard to concentrate on the non-existent flick.
When you finally relaxed into his side, when you flipped your hand over so he could draw little loop de loops on your palm, he quietly asked, “Who’s your favorite?”
“Brian,” said without hesitation.
Steve groaned, in pain, “Ugh, you would like him the best.”
You laughed, turning to look up at him a bit from where your head had fallen to his shoulder, “Don’t knock him Steve,” you spoke softly, fondly, “You’re a lot more of a dork like him than you think.”
Steve made a pft noise, fingers now interlaced with yours as he turned his head, the tip of his nose touching yours as he looked down at you with the sort of look the guys give the girls in the movies, one that should be illegal from the way it had that family of butterflies shouting about their presence again and fluttering around.
“Hey Steve?”
“Hmm?” He hummed, eyelashes fluttering as he sighed when your thumb brushed over his knuckles.
“This is a really great…first date?” You asked, hopeful that it wasn’t just an offer, that you weren’t some game, that the guy next to you was just as crazy about you as you were him.
“Yeah?” He smiled, proud, and then bragged, “Wait till the second one.”
It was your turn to hum, to look into his eyes and get a little lost as his mouth parted and you both scooted closer, waiting, as he squeezed your fingers wrapped around his.
“You’re making the ‘I’m about to kiss you face’ again, Steve,” you whispered, lips brushing his as you did.
“Right,” he whispered back, bottom lip catching yours as he suggested, “Which means you should probably stop talking again.”
This kiss wasn’t as easy and smooth, made difficult by grins of fools who were totally in love but wouldn’t admit it just yet, but how could you both not be after years together?
But you smoothed it out quickly, and soon he was swiping his tongue over your bottom lip as his hand gripped at your waist a little tightly. He traced over your top lip as your entire body turned towards his, like a plant in search of sunlight, his body on yours fundamental to your survival.
He gasped as you straddled him, your mouth swallowing the sound as his hands roamed up your sides, taking the hem of your shirt with it so his fingers could scrape at the skin just under your ribs before they dared to drift along the band of your bra.
You let out a sound that he’d never forget as long as he lived when you finally lowered yourself, skirt fanning over your laps so the sinful way he pressed up against your pristine soaked Calvin’s was slightly hidden. The unclip of your bra and the removal and toss over the seat was fluid, and you couldn’t think about it because the way his hand on your chest felt, the thumb over a pebbled nipple was something you’d only let yourself think about in moments of need before a date that wasn’t him.
Steve was wrong, the build up was more than half the fun.
The way his hands buzzed against your spine like the air after fireworks, the way his tongue brushed yours, the way he couldn’t help but guide your hips to rock against him. Denim hitting cotton in the exact right spot so the nerves underneath it got the friction they were aching for, while your mind ran away from you, thoughts about how this was just getting started. How there was more.
His lips left yours and his smile pressed to your jaw when the action got a soft whimper to fall from you. He tutted into your neck, lips grazing over an erratic pulse as he whispered, “Can I touch you?”
“Is that,” your breath hitched around the words as his tongue licked a thick stripe over your neck that extended, “Is that a part of making me dizzy or the more, when I’m sufficiently so?”
“You’re not yet?” His teeth scraped at where his tongue had just been. “I like when you say words like sufficiently, ‘s’hot.”
You laughed as his lips kissed the same spot, and then he was sucking, skin beneath his tongue warm and sending a message to your brain that you liked that a lot.
“Yeah,” you hiccuped, eyelids fluttering in their view of the car’s roof as you arched and his hands gripped your hips, “Yeah, touch me.”
He didn’t have to be told twice, arm around your waist holding you steady while the other traveled under the hem of your skirt. His mouth moved to below your ear and as his fingers glided up your thigh. He sucked and kissed, and sent that message to your brain again, having you say his name and god’s in the same desperate sentence.
Steve wasn’t gonna last much longer.
Especially when his fingers met the wet cotton and you moaned, so much filthier than he’d have thought possible. Especially when he circled over your clit through the fabric and you rolled your hips with the movement, far dirtier than he thought you were capable of.
“Fuck baby, you’re soaked.” He mouthed at the collar of your rucked up shirt, looking down at the way your hips rolled over his but he couldn’t quite see what was underneath.
You hid in the crook of his neck, hot, and you didn’t know if it was because the windows were fogged and Steve was so fucking good at this or because you were embarassed by how turned on you were from his next words.
“Please, I gotta,” he slipped a finger under the fabric and you shuddered as it ran down your slick and back up, “I gotta taste you. I need to put my mouth on you. Let me make you feel good, yeah?”
You were on your back, Calvin’s in a ball on the front seat, with Steve crouched between your thighs not even a minute later.
Thick fingers toyed with the hem of your skirt from his spot, blown out pupils taking over his stare up at you. One of your converse pushed to the other side of the car against the door as your fingers curled around the base of the sweating window above you.
Steve kissed your knee, and made his way higher between your legs slowly, until he was flipping your skirt up and swallowing as he stared at the space like it was a fucking artwork.
You giggled, nervously under the intense awestruck stare, squeezing your eyes shut as he strained to get out, “Fuck, honey, you’re trying to kill me.”
He was mesmerized, the way you clenched around nothing, his thumbs spreading you so he could see just how wet you were for him.
He was really not gonna last much longer. Straining in his jeans painfully like a teenager.
And that was before you whimpered, before you said:
“Steve, please.”
“Only,” he swallowed, leaning down so his breath hit your cunt in a way that had your hips wiggling, and him closing his eyes, “Only cause you asked so nicely.”
His thumbs held you open, massaging the sides as his tongue licked once, slow and broad, following the path of his nose up to your clit. He did it again, and again, and again. Until his fingers were slipping inside of you, pumping in and out of walls that held him tightly and his mouth sucked at your clit. Then you tugged, forcefully at the curls at the back of his head and practically screamed his name. Like it was full of only the best letters. Like it was yours.
Your stomach burned, the butterflies angry and in your chest now too, on fire, but happy about it. Steve’s fingers inside of you and mouth on your clit better than any orgasm you’d ever had, and you couldn’t help it when you came without warning, toes curling inside of your converse that kicked at the door and his thigh, while your fingers slipped on the window and your chest ached for a breath as it yelled his name in a way that the whole world would have to know how you felt when they heard it.
He didn’t pull away until you were gasping and your thighs were shaking and your fingers loosened in his hair. His cheek pressed to your thigh as he stared up at you and gasped out a proud, smug, “I’d like to see Bender of Brian do that.”
You laughed, tired, but happy, and he crawled up your body, kissing any part of it he could find while he ignored the uncomfortable wet patch in the front of his Levi’s.
Except you noticed and raised your eyebrows at it, a little smug yourself as you said, “Bet Claire couldn’t do that.”
Steve rolled his eyes, but then you were both flinching as a loud smack of something hit the back window. He glanced up and cursed under his breath, rolling down the window slightly as he called out from on top of you, “Hey, Hop.”
There was a loud, deep, sigh from outside as you both sat up with apologetic faces and Steve rolled down the window further.
Hopper’s cigarette smoke wafted in as he looked at the pair of you with a touch of surprise when he saw it was you next to Steve in the fogged up beemer. He shook his head, frown under the mustache forced. “It’s past eleven. On a weeknight. Have some decency and do this at home in front of a movie like normal people next time, yeah?”
You both nodded, your teeth pulling at your lip in a terrible attempt at not smiling.
He walked away, and you and Steve slapped hands over each other’s laughs and snorts, but you still managed to catch the quiet, “Bout damn time.”
And when Steve dropped you off at home, with a kiss to seal it all and a promise of a real date tomorrow that he’d pick you up for, you shoved the bunched up Calvin’s in his front pocket with your own promise, whispering in his ear the words “Sincerely, yours” before you left him with his mouth open on the front steps, watching you walk away.
#superbly subpars writing#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington smut#steve harrington oneshot#steve harrington fic#stranger things fanfic
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Hi can we please have fluff w Aventurine where reader and him reunite after 2. 1 and just fucking elope start a new life etc? Please I need it.
God yes. This is what we all need after 2.1.
I'm aware he is in a coma-like state technically now but for the sake of fluff and this headcanon he is awake from that coma and is now reuniting with you.
CW: Spoilers for 2.1 and Aventurines actual name, starts angsty but then turns fluffy, Gn reader, pre established relationship hurt/comfort
I am still accepting requests (especially for aven) btw so if you wanna see something send it in!
Back in your arms
You had lost track of how long it was since Aventurine left for his mission in Penacony. Has it been 2 months? No, probably more. It had been months since you last had been able to make contact with him. Your messages no longer went through, unable to be sent.
Looking at your textlog and scrolling up, you came across the last message he had sent you. It had come in while you were asleep, and it simply read “I love you”.
Waking up to that message would have been a sweet message for most people, but for you it had made you immensely worried.
Aventurine was never someone who professed his love openly, so such messages were quite rare. Receiving such a message, especially unprompted, made you send him a barricade of texts, none of which went through and even now months later none were able to be sent.
If you were honest you were starting to lose hope of ever seeing him again, who knows what happened in Penacony after all? He could be…dead for all you knew, you had no way to verify whether that was true or not after all.
You tried continuing your life on as you would normally, what else could you do? It was hard though, everyday you missed him more and more. Sometimes you imagined his face in a crowd somewhere but whenever you would take a closer look he would vanish.
Sighing you closed your phone and looked around your apartment, it felt so liveless ever since Aventurine was gone. Tears were falling down your eyes as you wondered how much longer you had to live with the uncertainty of where he was and if he was even alive.
Exhaustion was taking over as you began falling asleep. A common occurrence nowadays, since at night you were restless, unable to fall asleep as you worried. Just as you were beginning to fully doze off, you heard the door to your apartment open, immediately waking up.
No one but you and Aventurine had the key, and with him being absent panic coursed through you thinking someone was breaking and entering. You grabbed the nearest heavy thing to defend yourself with.
“For fucks sake…” You muttered as you made your way to where the noises were coming from. Cursing every entity out there for piling even more shit onto you as if your significant other being possibly dead wasn’t enough.
Readying your weapon (probably a heavy book) you stepped foot into the room where the noise was coming from ready to attack and hit the intruder. But once you saw who it was that was in your appartment, you dropped your makeshift weapon, a sob escaping your mouth.
Before you stood Aventurine, alive and breathing. You rubbed your eyes, making sure that this wasn’t your mind playing a cruel trick on you again. Aventurine watched you with a smirk on his, albeit very exhausted looking, face and his eyes held a new found softness you had never seen before.
You fell into his arms immediately, holding him tightly against your body, feeling his warmth. Desperately you grabbed at his clothes as you held on to him, scared this was all just a dream and you would wake up all alone once again. Tears were falling from your eyes, unable to hold them back, the relief washing over you making you let out all of your emotions.
“Wow you missed me that much?” He asked, in his usual teasing tone. Though there was something in his voice that usually wasn’t there. Desperation and a bit of fear. Was he afraid you wouldn’t have missed him? Or was there a deeper reason for it?
Moving away from the hug you grabbed his face in your hands, the tears still falling from your eyes as you took a good look at him. His face had fallen in, and he seemed exhausted. But there was also something in his eyes, his beautiful eyes you were so sure you would never see again, that you couldn’t recognize, having never seen it on him before.
Before you spoke your first words to him, you pulled his face closer and gently kissed him. The feeling of his lips on yours felt like you were floating in heaven. They may have been more chapped than usual, but fuck was it nice to feel him again. Breaking the kiss you finally were able to muster up your first words to him.
“Fuck…I was so worried about you…I…When my messages stopped being able to sent I was…so sure you…Please…never worry me like that again Aventurine…”
You leaned your forehead against his, your words jumbled together from the adrenaline coursing through you.
He took in a deep breath, and held it for a moment before letting it out. A gesture you saw in many people before they needed to say something important and heavy, but one you never saw in your lover.
“...Kakavasha…” His voice seemed unsure and meek as he spoke.
You, of course, had no idea what he was saying, so you looked into his eyes confused.
“Wha-”
“Kakavasha…it is…my given name. The one my mother gave me” He inhaled deeply before he continued.
“It is a long story but the short version is…I am no longer affiliated with the IPC, they probably think I died or something. So I no longer go by Aventurine, and…with how close we are and how much you mean to me. I felt like it was appropriate for you to know my true name...”
His eyes refused to look at you, flickering about unsurely as he spoke. Though he tried to sound confident, his voice wavered, scared that you would not accept him for who he truly was and reject his true self.
You looked at him gently and with all the love you had for him, gently pulling him close again and kissing his nose.
“Well then…It is nice to meet you Kakavasha…” You smiled brightly at him, showing him you accepted him as he was.
He felt relief course through his body and could not help himself but pull you into a passionate kiss. He kissed you like you were the oxygen he needed to stay alive. As if he would die without you.
Breaking the kiss he whispered “Marry me.” It wasn’t a question but a request. One that you were too stunned to answer to, looking at him with wide eyes.
“I mean it. Let’s get married, run away from everything and start a new life just you and me.”
His eyes were pleading with you to agree. He knew that he wanted to start over, but he knew he needed you with him.
“...yes!!” You once again fell into his arms and kissed him. The two of you holding each other so closely it was as if you were one.
Kakavasha knew that he would need to tell you everything that happened in Penacony at one point, even the part where he tried to end his life. But he knew that if he explained everything to you, you would still stay by his side and be with him.
You were his family after all.
#honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#hsr#hsr x reader#honkai star rail spoilers#hsr spoilers#aventurine#hsr aventurine#aventurine x reader#hsr aventurine x reader#honkai aventurine#kakavasha#aventurine fluff#honkai star rail imagines#hsr imagines#aventurine honkai star rail#aventurine x you#hsr x you#hsr 2.1
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I read your Lucifer headcanons and OH BOY I'M IN LOVE!! You write him excellently!!
Could I request some more Lulu pieces? :') Maybe a reader who's sad and melancholic by nature being drawn to Lucifer's absolute banger of a personality because he's so showy and fun (while also like. he Gets it, he gets sad too)?
Hi! Aahh thank you!! That's so nice of you to say!
I'm not sure if you meant you wanted this as a head cannon or a fic so I wrote it as a fic? Hope you enjoy! (if it's not what you want you can always request again and I'll be MORE than happy to do another one :) srsly)
Word Count: 6.5K
Lucifer x melancholic reader
You had been in hell for quite a few years, carving out a small life of your own through the decades that had passed, and after many years of working any job you could find, taking up any extra shifts that presented themselves, and spending and living cautiously, you had managed to rent a nice flat for yourself in a rather affluent sector of the Pride ring. That accomplishment, however, did not last long. Good things never did in Hell.
The last extermination had been particularly cruel, and your street had been targeted particularly hard. Thankfully you had been away at a friends place at the time (a little tradition the two of you had formed over the years) but when you returned the next morning the street you used to call home was no more. Barely any citizens of the accompanying streets had survived, and all of the buildings and businesses had been forced to collapse in on themselves as a final fuck you from Heaven.
Life in Hell was hard, and every year the weight across your shoulders and pressing down against your heart seemed to grow. It was endless, and by the time you had managed to scramble the remnants of your life back together the next extermination happened, or the next Overlord turf war, or god-knows what else happened down here. You were not a particularly optimistic person, and this recent upheaval of your life had placed you in a rather dire situation. It had been a steady declination over the years: you barely smiled, the gnawing worry of something about to go wrong always sitting heavy in the pit of your stomach, you couldn't really remember the last time you had felt truly, inexcusably, happy.
That had been three months ago now, and in that time you found yourself a steady job working at Hell's newest establishment: the Hazbin Hotel. The owner, Charlie, was a sweet girl and always bound over ecstatically to tell you about her ideas for the 'redemption of sinners' (you had a hard time believing in her dreams yourself, but you admired her unwavering optimism). She always tried her damnest to drag you into the 'group-activities' the residents of the hotel partook in, and you often found yourself being wilfully dragged along by the wrist, muttering lame excuses about needing to clean, before plopping next to someone and joining in on the fruitless fun.
Charlie's father was an illusive figure, and in the three months you had been here you hadn't seen him, but you often heard Charlie muttering about him to Vaggie. Despite his physical absence, the head honcho of hell himself seemed a rather doting father, constantly ringing Charlie and a gift-basket arriving at the front door whenever she lamented about a particularly bad week.
You had accepted this new style of life, dutifully completing your chores, keeping your head down to avoid trouble in the form of the Radio Demon, and spending your nights drinking at the bar with the other residents. You were secluded, quiet, but a pleasant presence that the others around you slowly grew to appreciate. Everything had finally settled, and after three months, you had mistakenly believed nothing would change until the next extermination came along.
How wrong you were.
You had been abruptly awoken one morning by Niffty of all creatures, picking your lock with the knife Alastor had gifted her and clambering onto your bed, bouncing on her heels excitedly and yanking the quilt from your shoulders.
"Niffty? It's 6- go back to bed." You motion away laconically, trying to burrow into your comfy sheets. You didn't have to be awake for another hour.
"He's coming! He's coming!" She chirps excitedly, brandishing her knife dangerously as she jumps about. "Up! Charlie wants the place spotless before he arrives!"
"We have another guest?" You stifle a yawn as you sit up, one hand rubbing at your eyes as Niffty attempts to drag you by your fingers to your dresser. You let her struggle, not budging and watching tiredly. "Arriving this early?"
"Yes! He'll be here in two hours and we need to clean!"
"Two hours?" You sigh heavily, making a show of laying back down as Niffty squeals at you to get up. The little woman is persistent, and you can feel her shadow looming over you even from behind closed eyelids. "Is he that important? He better be fucking royalty if Charlie expects us to clean for two hours."
"He is!" One eye cracks open, and you stare at Niffty incredulously. "Lucifer is coming! WE-" She grabs a firm hold of your top and yanks. "NEED-" tug "TO-" tug "CLEAN."
"Lucifer?!" You bolt upright, Niffty falling off the bed to the floor with a yelp. You peer over your side-table to look at her. "The Lucifer? Charlie's Dad Lucifer? The King of Hell Lucifer?"
"What other Lucifer would it be?" Niffty sasses, dusting herself down as she springs to her feet. "The baddest bad boy." She grins at you, and you suddenly feel incredibly uncomfortable. "We need to make a good impression! I need to make a good impression! You know he's single?" She bounce on her feet as you clamber from your bed, hurriedly sifting through your drawers. Two hours to sort this mess of a hotel out? You'd have more chance of suddenly coming back to life. "I love bad boys- Sir Pentious was such a let down but Lucifer? Oh My Go-"
"Yes, we all like a bad boy." You nod along, Niffty's eyes brightening as you agree. "Don't tell Sir Pentious that, he considers himself quite a bad boy, you'll hurt his feelings."
"Oh, he already knows." Niffty shrugs nonchalantly, hopping restlessly from foot to foot. "Now come! We have work to do!" and with that, the small woman goes speeding from your room, leaving you standing, disheveled, with a cluster of clothes in your arms. You blink slowly, rolling your shoulders, this was going to be a long day.
---
Two hours had gone by in a blink, and now you stood, slightly out of breath, lined up with the rest of the staff near the bar as Charlie paced in front of the entrance to the Hotel. You hadn't stopped moving all morning and your back and shoulders ached, having to hoist Niffty above your head to reach the hard-to-reach places you usually wouldn't bother cleaning. You were wedged between Angel Dust and Husk.
The door opens with a slam, ricocheting into the wall as a man bundles the princess of hell into a tight embrace with a gleeful yell. "Charlie!" The short-statured man lifts the blonde from the floor, swinging her around as he continues to chirp happily. "It's so good to see you! Have you grown? You feel taller!"
"It's good to see you too Dad!" Charlie tries to respond, and you stifle a chuckle into your hand as she gasps around the vice-like grip Lucifer has around her torso.
"Dad-!" Charlie finally tugs free, and you elbow Angel Dust as he snickers. "Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel. These are our residents, this is-" Charlie begins to introduce everyone, but Keekee takes that moment to appear between Lucifer's legs.
"Keekee!" He all but squeals, and your eyes widen in shock at the pitch his voice takes as he squats down to fuss the happy cat. You share a pointed look with Angel Dust. Lucifer is distracted, again, as Razzle and Dazzle fly into his vision, and he immediately reaches for them with a joyous laugh.
He fusses them even more so than the cat, laughing to himself and twirling his cane between his fingers as he beams at the creatures. Charlie looks embarrassed, you notice with a sly smirk, rubbing her arms and trying to guide her Dad's attention away from the animals fluttering about his head.
You can't help but find this version of Lucifer rather jarring. You had been expecting a rather serious, intimidating, and otherwise authoritative man to come stalking into the Hotel. This version? This white-suited, rosy-cheeked, tall-hatted man with an ear-splitting grin was anything but the image you had been conjuring in your head ever since you had stepped foot in Hell. The brim of his hat flops as his head finally snaps towards your direction, and he straightens it with unfaltering confidence as he swaggers over.
You can't help but notice how much warmer his grin is compared to Alastor's, whose grin seemed to hide a threat behind it in most situations.
"Oh!" He stops short as Niffty barrels through Angel Dust's legs brandishing a pan of freshly baked cookies, with copious dollops of red icing splattered across their surface. A welcoming gift no one had asked for, but she had taken it upon herself to provide them anyway.
"Ah! What kind staff!" Lucifer entertains the woman, bending at the waist and looking at the cookies with raised eyebrows. "Thank you! But I will have to decline my dear, as young and dashing as I look" he wiggles his brows mockingly. "I must be careful with what I eat! When you reach 10,000 you'll understand."
He skilfully breezes past the tray with a bow of his head and a wave of his staff, distracted once again on his journey to greet Sir Pentious.
"Oh my-" He taps his cane against the carpeted floor as he spins, soaking up the main foyer. You had to admit, it didn't look much better from the state it was in before you had woken up. You pick at your sleeve nervously.
"Oh well, would you look at-" He makes a series of sounds as he surveys the inside of the hotel, brows furrowed contemplatively as he nods to himself, gesturing at nothing in particular. "Well- it certainly has character Char-Char!" He turns to his daughter, still beaming, completely unaware of Charlie's growing regret at having invited him over in the first place.
"Now! Time to introduce me to your friends. Who are these fine ladies and gentlemen?"
Charlie is quick to pull Vaggie to her side, holding her hand as she nervously introduces her girlfriend.
Lucifer practically vibrates at the news. "You like girls! Oh- so do I! Look at that, we have so much in common!" He motions between them excitedly, immediately extending a hand out to Vaggie, and yanking her into an equally as crushing hug as he tells her to 'put it there'. You watch as Vaggie struggles to breath over the man's shoulder, the man finally releasing her with an airy laugh and a comment about how pretty she was and how lucky Charlie is.
You smile despite yourself. You rather liked this version of Lucifer.
He finally turns to Sir Pentious, who withers in his skin and salutes, half out of respect, half out of terror.
"Your Majesty." Pentious doesn't move as Lucifer watches him, grin faltering slightly at the snake's lack of movement. He swiftly moves on with a 'thank you' grin brightening as he extends a hand to Angel Dust.
"Look at you! What I wouldn't do for those legs-" Husk splutters from beside you and you have to bring a hand up to hide the way you bit your lip to refrain from laughing. Lucifer only reached halfway up Angel Dusts' torso, and didn't shy away from emphasising the height difference by craning his neck at a near 90 degree angle to look at the others face. "Oh not like that! Forgive me. Though, you do have very nice legs, I meant your height. You could make a man jealous."
Angel Dust takes the opportunity, Lucifer spluttering over his apology, to bend down in some semblance of a bow, sultry smirk permanently etched onto his cheeks. "Heya, short King." For good measure, he places a kiss on the back of Lucifer's hand.
"My, my-" You have to commend him for not yanking his hand out of the spiders grip immediately, and watch tensely as he takes a minimal step back, straightening the lapels of his jacket: you were next. "what charming guests! I see why you insist on staying here Char-Char."
He stops before you, both hands resting atop his cane as he grins widely, a soft energetic thing that you can't help but replicate. "And who might this lovely lady/gentleman be?"
"And this," Charlie rushes to your side, evidently aware of your nerves. "is an incredibly valued member of our staff. Y/N. They've been working here for around 3 months and the place would've fallen to disrepair without them and Niffty."
You smile softly, bowing your head in respect as Lucifer finally stands before you.
"No need for that my dear, a friend of Charlie's is a friend of mine." He extends a hand which you tentatively take, shaking your hand firmly and watching you from beneath the brim of his hat. He was nothing short of charismatic, a perfect image of gentlemanly friendliness and cocksure confidence. Despite this, you couldn't help but feel slightly intimidated, he was the King of Hell after-all. "To say this place is still standing after all these years is nothing short of a miracle! You must truly have a golden touch." He waggles his fingers at you to emphasise his point, tilting his head inquisitively as you lightly blush at the compliment, averting your gaze for a moment. The man before you was truly some sort of magician, a purveyor of witchcraft of some sort: his presence was so large, so demanding, so absolutely enchanting you didn't have the capacity to think about any of your normal worries, nor the way your shoulders and back ached. In that moment, it was just him, and his silly little antics, and that was all.
"Thank you, sir. I'd truly be lost without Niffty-"
"Yes, the baker." He nods, cane nestled in the crook of his arm. You both decide to ignore the way Niffty squeals at the fact he remembered her from not even 10 minutes ago. "And no, absolutely not. Do not call me 'sir' under any circumstances." His voice was light and airy, clearly poking fun, not conveying any of the threat of violence that would usually accompany someone of such stature. He tilts his head again, grinning at you, wafting his hands around aimlessly. "Makes me feel old. I certainly am old, but I like to play into this fantasy that I'm not. Help an old man accomplish his dream won't you?"
"Certainly, Lucifer."
"And how have you been finding working at the hotel? I hope my dear Charlie here hasn't been working you too hard - she does sometimes forget not everyone is as energetic as she can be."
"Dad, stop making fun of me in front of my friends." Charlie goes to loop her arm with his and drag him away, but he remains rooted on the spot. Battering her reaching hands back with a laugh and a spin and a tap of his cane.
"I'm not poking fun at all Char-Char!" The grin he adorns, and the upturn of his voice indicate he very much was, and was very much succeeding in embarrassing her. "and you, Y/N? The hotel?"
"Hard work, but I've loved every moment of it." You lie, thinking back on the many times you had been up to your shoulder in some sewage piping, and the stench that had followed you for days. "The people definitely more so than the actual work: the plumbing." Your pinched expression and open disgust has Lucifer laughing, leaning onto his cane as he listens intently. "I don't know how it's all still standing but it is so we must be doing something right."
"That's it!" He hops excitedly on the spot, cane falling into his hand and tapping against the floor. In a surprising turn of events, he grabs your hand and spins you along with him. "That's the spirit! I see why Char-Char hired you."
He releases you surprisingly delicately, leaving you in the same spot he found you, withdrawing his hand from your elbow and returning it atop his cane. With a nod of his head and another grin he moves on to Husk, before being whisked away by Alastor, the man gripping the tip of Lucifer's cane firmly and practically dragging him to another part of the hotel with Charlie and Vaggie in tow. No one dares move until the chattering of the group fades into the distance, and you release a breath you didn't even know you'd been holding. You go to turn to Husk, about to make fun of him for his reaction over Lucifer's comment about Angel's legs, but four arms gripping your shoulders and biceps has you spinning in the other direction. Angel Dust has a firm grip of you, and drags you close, face mere inches from yours. You stare back with wide eyes.
"What the fuck was that?" He asks, almost giddy, shaking you at the shoulders as Husk and Sir Pentious stand either side of him. "You sly little- our little friend has the King of Hell gagging for it!"
"What." You attempt to pull yourself away, but the spider is surprisingly strong. Your eyes flicker between each of the men: Angel Dust is practically gushing on the spot, shaking you excitedly, Sir Pentious looks rather teary-eyed, and Husk has an infuriating smirk that he was doing a poor job at hiding.
"He asked you to entertain his fantasy! That's foreplay!" Angel lifts you from the floor for a moment, dragging you close to stare deeply into your eyes. "And you played along! Ha! Didn't know you had it in you, toots."
"What? Angel- that is not foreplay!" You just accept the shaking, moving your arms with what little freedom they had to try and calm the ecstatic man. "It's small talk! This is a hotel, not a porn set, not everything leads to sex."
"You liked it!" He ignores you completely.
"You did have a rather besssotted look." Sir Pentious unhelpfully adds, clasping his hands in front of his chest and rocking himself side to side. "It was sssweet-"
"I've never seen you smile so much." Husk pipes up, arms crossed in front of his chest and a smug smirk aimed your way.
"He's very charismatic." You argue, and that was true. The man had come barrelling into the hotel with an entertainers flare and had somehow maintained the thousand-mile-a-minute charisma no matter what had been thrown his way. You could admire that. "And that's rich coming from you." You chirp back, finally untangling yourself from two of Angel's four arms. "You nearly choked when he mentioned Angel's legs."
"I was taken by surprised." Husk remains unflappable, but you don't fail to notice the bristling of his wings. "Stop deflecting. For once, I think Angel's right."
"I'm always right!" Angel Dust argues, finally releasing you and swinging an arm over Husk and Sir Pentious' shoulders. "And I say Lucifer's whipped, and you're gagging for it too."
None of you had noticed Niffty, who had been stood behind Angel Dust's legs for the entire conversation. You do notice her, however, when she starts sobbing on the spot, big fat tears streaming down her cheeks. The three men spring apart at the noise, and you all turn to look down at the distraught woman. This was not going to be easy.
---
Lucifer had stayed at the hotel for quite a while, being shown around by Charlie, Vaggie and Alastor whilst the rest of you returned to your normal duties, except on your best behaviour. Niffty had set to work exterminating the bugs around the hotel, throwing herself into work to avoid thinking too hard about how the 'baddest hottest boy' didn't seem all that interested in her or her biscuits, Husk remaining stationed behind the bar and dutifully serving drinks to Angel and Pentious, and you with a broom sweeping the foyer just to give yourself something to do.
One of Alastor's 'friends' had shown up whilst he and Charlie had been showing Lucifer the bar, and now Mimzy was left in Husk and Angel Dust's faithful hands as Alastor continued the tour. You didn't like her very much, and had been pretending to be incredibly busy to avoid having to talk to her.
Vaggie had joined the bar 10 minutes ago, and you had swept closer and closer to hear the discussion, despite the proximity to Mimzy which you'd rather avoid.
"Alastor's dragged him into some pissing contest." She groans, reaching for the drink Husk slid her way. "The Radio freak really doesn't like him, it's non-stop. I've never seen Alastor this close to going full freak-mode, it's worse than when Angel tried to sit on him."
"Maybe he's jealous." Angel grins, gaze turning towards you. You take this as your sign to leave, but he calls your name before you can. "Y/N here captured the Big Bosses attention earlier. You know Alastor, he doesn't like being upstaged."
"Oooh, you captured Lucifer's attention?" Mimzy swivels in your direction. You grip your broom harder, really wishing you had left the room when you had the chance. "You?" She doesn't hide the way she looks you up and down, and suddenly here voice becomes much more snide. "What did you do to impress him? Care to tell a girl a secret?"
"I didn't." You argue, tapping your broom against the floor. "He said hello to all of us, and that's that. He's just very friendly."
Mimzy opens her mouth, but the building suddenly rocks and the font doors bend under the weight of something. A man's voice yells from outside the hotel, and Mimzy suddenly has other worries on her mind. "Oh, shit."
A portal opens in the foyer, and Charlie and Lucifer hop through, Lucifer closing it with a snap of his fingers.
"What's going on?" Vaggie shouts over another loud slam. Mimzy hides behind the bar, much to Husk's dismay. After revealing the debt she was currently under, and the reason the loan sharks outside were particularly angry, you all stand in silence, every glare aimed in the short blonde's direction.
Suddenly, a flaming ball of something crashes through one of the ornate windows on the face of the hotel, and everyone shrieks as they dive for cover.
"My windows!" Niffty shrieks as Angel hauls her out of the way of falling debris. Sir Pentious off-handedly passes you a plate of biscuits as he slithers past, yelling about being under siege. You don't have time to acknowledge the plate in your hands, dropping it abruptly as you dive out of the way of another piece of ceiling. You were too far from the bar to seek shelter, so you begin sprinting in the other direction, aiming for the stairs. Suddenly, a figure crashes into you, strong hands grasping your arms and tugging you along with them. The staircase you were about to charge up explodes in a shower of wood and cement.
Your head snaps to the right and you make eye-contact with your saviour, Lucifer's bright red eyes staring back at you, and releasing your elbow with a smile and a pat of your shoulders. "This is exactly what I was telling Charlie!" He seems satisfied at his correct predictions, but he frowns at the damage as he pulls you further back from the creaking pile of wood. "You can't have nice things in Hell."
You breath deeply, rattled at how close you had come to being crushed, but Lucifer seems completely unaware of everyone's terror, standing back and commentating to himself, and now you.
"I'm afraid all your hard work, and golden fingers, and whatever else is going to waste." He laments, tugging you away from another falling piece of ceiling. "It's a miracle it stayed up this long- hey!" He pulls you towards him again, side-stepping a piece of rubble elegantly as it crashes into the floor where you just stood. One hand still on your waist, he twist his cane with his other hand, frowning at the big lump of brick and cement.
"We just finished fixing the ceiling." You comment, frowning at the chunk of beam along with him. Your arms cross in front of your chest: this would take weeks to clean up. You could feel how sore your body would be afterward.
"I'm sure I could lend a helping hand, my dear." He grins, swinging his cane in an effort to bat a piece of ceiling tile away from his foot. "In fact, I'd love to. There's nothing better for the soul than some good hard physical work!"
As if suddenly realising where his other hand was, he lurches back, eyes widening as he makes a show of fixing his hat, gloved hands sliding along the brim and collecting the dust that had fallen onto it. "Ah, sorry about that. You just, seem to have a knack for standing right under the debris about to crush you. HA ha." That laugh was the first one of the afternoon that lacked genuity, and you didn't fail to notice the way he corralled you close to him as he kept an eye on the ceiling. "Can't have my daughters favourite employee turned into mulch after only meeting you for an hour."
"I'm not her fav-"
"Oh yes, you are." This time, he uses his cane to playfully guide you towards him, hooking it around the crook of your arm and pulling you along, walking backwards as he chats and surprisingly avoiding all debris in his way. "She won't ever say, but I know. And I can see why, you're mine too." He makes an extravagant shushing movement with his free hand, and pushes the tip of his cane into your side to emphasise his point. "Don't tell the others, they'll be jealous and I'm afraid there's simply nothing they can do to take your pedestal from you."
"Well, I-" You nearly fall over your own feet: what the hell were you supposed to say to that?
"But that's our little secret!" The pair of you finally make it back behind the bar, where Angel Dust, Niffty and Husk squatted, covering their heads. Upon seeing you both, Angel Dust makes a grab for Husk's attention, grinning wickedly. "Now you're all safe, I'm needed elsewhere." Lucifer unhooks his cane from your arm, pushing you with the tip of it towards Angel Dust. "Don't let that one go." Lucifer points at Niffty, who was trapped in Angel's arms as she moaned about the state of the hotel. "Or this one." He points at you now. "Abysmal survival skills, I'm telling you." And then he was gone, disappearing through a portal to some other location in the hotel.
You shuffle in closer to Husk, the feline stretching one of his wings above your head in precaution, the other doing the same for Angel Dust and Niffty. You see Angel Dust lean forward, shit-eating grin on his face. You pretend you can't hear his teasing.
---
Lucifer had frequented the hotel much more often after that, and true to his word had assisted in some of the restructuring despite Alastor being able to fix the majority of the damage with his magic. You had found yourself, despite knowing better, growing closer to Lucifer, finding yourself actually looking forward to his visits. He was so energetic, so absolutely unhinged but in the best kind of way, that you couldn't help but look forward to his presence.
He almost always sought you out during his visits, always checking up and asking about how you had been finding the work. He often jabbed, asking if you felt as though you were being redeemed, and you actually entertained his jokes. They weren't at your expense, unlike Angel Dust and Husk, and they weren't targeted at some deep-rooted insecurity, like Alastor's often were. He was like a caricature come to life, and brought just the right amount to excitement to your life. You called your feelings towards him merely friendly, everyone else said otherwise.
Despite this newfound friendship, or 'this absolutely maddening foreplay' as Angel Dust called it, you still had bad days. Today was one of those bad days. The next extermination was closer than the previous one, and you had been feeling the typical stress around such an event. It didn't help that you had grown to care so deeply for the other inhabitants in the hotel - even Alastor to some degree, despite his aloofness - and your worries only seemed to grow the more you realised you didn't want things to change. You were happier here then when you had had your own flat the year prior, and the realisation that it could all be whisked away just as easily was terrifying.
You needed a day to yourself to sort your mind out, but you didn't want to pressure Charlie with your worries, so here you were, sweeping, hiding a frown and trying not to think about too hard about anything in particular. No one had seemed to pick up on your downtrodden mood in the last few days, but Lucifer always had a way of shaking things up.
Lucifer arrived around midday, greeting everyone with typical pleasantries and whisking Charlie away to discuss something about her meeting with Heaven. You were secretly glad he actually had something to do during this visit, you didn't want to ruin the relationship you had by raining on his parade.
You busied yourself, taking control of the tasks outside of the communal areas in the hopes you wouldn't bump into the blonde man. You would just catch up with him next time he visited. Lucifer however, had began searching for you as soon as he had finished discussing what he needed to with Charlie - he hadn't seen you in nearly a month, having been too busy to stay the last few times he had visited, and he was beginning to miss you.
He had had to school his behaviour massively after the first month of knowing you, finding himself thinking about you a little too often, modelling his ducks with features similar to yours, and just being a rather sappy mess. Charlie had mentioned this newfound behaviour to him, noticing the uplift to his mood around you, and the way he always just so happened to find himself in the same room as you in the hotel. He had denied the allegations at first, and had tried his hardest to remain nothing but friendly. But that had absolutely wrecked his mood, and the amount of space you took up in his mind only grew the more he tried to stay away. He had admitted to Charlie his growing feelings towards you, feeling his daughter had a right to know. Charlie had been ecstatic, and had been his biggest wing-woman.
He had even stopped wearing his wedding ring, and it now sat in the first drawer of his desk wrapped in silk. Charlie had cried when she noticed, hugging him tight and telling him how happy she was that he was finding someone for himself. He had cried too.
He still had yet to tell you, but baby steps.
He eventually found you on the hotel roof. He had searched everywhere, and was about to give up his efforts before he remembered helping you bring some furniture to the ceiling, smiling at your comments about enjoying the peace and quiet and the cool fresh air. He found you where he expected; sat on battered sofa he had helped you carry up here, a book in your lap and head turned towards the skyline.
"Y/N, there you are! I've been looking everywhere for you." He closes the door to the roof behind him, walking over with leisurely steps, tapping a soft rhythm with his cane as he approaches. "My what a beautiful sight! Lugging that god-awful sofa up all those steps was definitely worth it!"
You jolt in your seat, and he frowns as your furiously wipe at something on your face. You think better of turning towards him, bowing your head down as you curse internally. You had thought he had left, fuck.
"Lucifer!" You still don't turn towards him, head held low and trying your best to remain composed. His frown deepens at the shake and crack to your voice. "I- I didn't realise you were still here."
Lucifer hesitates in his steps, approaching much more slowly. "I wouldn't leave without at least saying hello, how rude of me that would be." He comments softly, coming to stand behind the sofa. "My dear, is everything all right?"
You breathe deeply, wishing you would disappear on the spot as he rounds the side of the sofa, hand sliding along the fabric as he does.
"Oh, sweetheart, what's wrong?" He questions, crouching next to you and trying to catch a glimpse of your face. His voice was so soft, so utterly and completely different to anything you had ever heard come from him. You almost sob when you glance at his big round eyes, filled with nothing but concern. You didn't want this, you didn't want him to see you like this.
"I'm sorry." You stutter out, pressing your palms into you eye sockets and leaning on your knees. "I just-" What? You were sad? For reasons completely out of anyone's control? What would be the point in telling him? "I don't know- it was a bad day."
Usually his cane tapped against you to gain your attention, but this time you felt two warm hands - he had taken off his gloves, when had he done that? - grasping delicately at your wrists. He tugs lightly, coaxing them down into your lap and holding them there, a thumb running over your knuckles as he waits, patiently.
Realising you weren't going to say anything else, he takes a deep breath.
"You know, everyone has bad days. But I don't think sitting all by your lonesome will help." He hesitates, and your bloodshot eyes lock with his. For the first time you've seen, a frown tugs at his lips, and his eyes look sad. "I would know."
He slowly sits next to you on the sofa, placing his hat on the floor with one hand still holding one of yours in your lap. "You know, I have a fair few bad days - more than I'd care to admit." He speaks slowly, gently, careful with his words but honest, genuine. "When I fell from Heaven, hell, even once Lilith left- well, I didn't know what to do with myself. I'm man enough to admit."
You huff out a laugh, and he smiles sadly at you. "And sometimes, sometimes people are sad for no particular reason because being here is hard. Life was hard, never mind death." You laugh again at the accuracy of what he was saying. A hand comes to gently rest against the underside of your chin and jaw, gently lifting your face to his. You follow his movements, and your lip quivers at the look of complete concern he sends your way.
"But you're- you're you." You stress, and he laughs at the absurdity of it. "You're amazing, and so good at cheering others up, and you make the people you're around so happy." You sigh deeply, completely unaware of the way his heart flutters a the compliment - he made you happy? A watery smile makes its way to his face. "And I- I don't. I'm just-"
"You make me so happy." He interrupts abruptly, not caring for his dearest secret that he was letting slip. "and the others in the hotel, even Alastor, who you know I despise, and it infuriates me that he gets to spend so much time with you, because he is so lucky." His hand falls from your chin, playing absentmindedly with a strand of your hair. "So lucky that they get to spend so much time with you. And they know, Alastor wouldn't stop bragging about you when we first me, it drove me nuts. And Angel Dust? He practically never stops talking about you."
Heat rises to your cheeks, and you feel your chest swell with something, not pride, not confidence, but something far more fond.
"But, that doesn't always fix our problems. You can be sad regardless of all that. Sometimes there is nothing you can do, but it always helps, and I mean always, when you talk to someone." He scoots minimally closer on the sofa, knee pressed against your own. "You don't even have to say what's wrong, but company is so much better than one's own thoughts."
He sends a pointed look towards the book you were attempting to read, and now lay against the floor. "And for one I think I'm much better company than some book."
You laugh properly this time, wiping at your puffy eyes. "Thank you."
Lucifer seems to gain some confidence back at hearing your laugh, and he puffs his chest in pride. "Having said all that, I hate seeing you cry. Can I please stay?"
You smile, agreeing.
"I have just the remedy for days like this." He grins, his usual cheerfully personality returning. "Now, come here." He extends his arms, beckoning joyfully. You stare, uncertain. "I may be the Big Boss but I don't bite, all the time." He winks, and he pulls you towards him without further question, dragging you in close to his chest as he rests back against the plush armrest. You freeze for a moment, unsure where to place your hands, where to rest your head, and he seems to pick up on your dilemma. A hand comes to cradle the back of your head, pulling you in close to rest your cheek against his chest, right above his heart, and he tucks you tightly under his chin, arms snaking their way tightly around your waist.
You sigh, relaxing into his warm embrace, and your heart rate picks up as you feel warm lips press against your temple, a soft murmur of "There, much better." breathed against your skin in a low voice.
He rests his chin back over the top of your hair, watching the skyline and trying his best not to combust on the spot. He hopes you can't feel his heartbeat through his jacket, but he would much rather you be pressed against him than not at all.
"Fuck that book, next time something happens, or there's a bad day, you come and find me. Yes?" A hand runs up your bicep absentmindedly, and you can feel the rumble of his chest beneath you.
Your worries were not gone completely, and that familiar sadness still clung to the pit of your stomach, but you could get used to this. This was definitely better than some book.
Perhaps Angel Dust was right, for once - perhaps you did feel a little more than friendship for Lucifer, if the thrumming of your heart and the fluttering of your stomach was anything to go by.
"Of course, Lucifer. And the same if you have 'one of those days'. Deal?"
He grins. "Deal."
Charlie screams when Lucifer tells her about what he did, and Angel Dust screams even louder when she lets him know.
#hazbin hotel#alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel charlie#hazbin hotel husk#angel dust#hazbin hotel angel dust#hazbinhotel niffty#niffty#husk#charlie morningstar#Lucifer morningstar#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin hotel Lucifer x reader#Lucifer x reader#hazbin hotel x reader
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Bully Part 3
A/n: Happy new year/ New year's eve everyone! As promised, here is part 3. Thank you all for following and supporting me these last few months. Here's to a great year of smut ahead <3 <3 <3 I hope you enjoy your favorite pervy menaces <3
Disclaimer: Gojo X Geto X Fem!Reader. DUB-CON WARNING. READER ENJOYS WHAT’S HAPPENING TO HER BUT IT’S MESSY!!! Blackmail!!! Humiliation. Degradation. Free-use dynamics. Spankings. Public sex. Filming. Gojo gives a stranger permission to touch reader!!!
"Who knew the three of them were...well...like that." Utahime said, immediately gossiping once the taxi started to move. "I can't say I'm surprised though." Shoko said, "They're practically attached at the hip."
The girls and Nanami were sharing a cab to get back to their dorms, gossiping about what had happened during dinner. It was a fun night of drinks and banter, ended with their friend being kissed by Gojo and Geto. When asked about the nature of their relationship, the two men responded by saying they were…fuck buddies.
"She could do better." Utahime said, "I don't get why she's settling for those assholes."
Nanami looked out the window as he allowed the chatter to wash over him, not really paying attention. His mind couldn't help but go back to a week ago when he and Gojo were in class together, the only ones there and he noticed his lock screen...
"Gojo, what the fuck?" Nanami snarled as he looked at Gojo's phone, his screen flashing up as he received a message. There was a naked woman's photo set up as his lock screen, her face out of frame to accommodate her breasts and her spread legs and Nanami didn't want to even think about what was dripping out of them.
"Oh, my bad." Gojo said casually as he picked up his phone, "But she's hot right? She's my new fuck buddy~"
"Not interested." Nanami said, clicking his tongue in annoyance, "Just keep that shit to yourself. Why do you have that as your phone background?"
Before he got an answer, Geto and you walked into the room, asking them what they were talking about and when Gojo showed them the screen, Nanami noted your reaction. He didn't too much of it at the time, assuming your flustered and angered expression was over how vulgar Gojo was but now he wondered...
No. There's no way that was you, right?
Right?
~~~~~
"What the fuck was that?!" you screeched once Gojo closed the door of the taxi, smacking them both across the shoulders, "Why would you say shit like that?! Telling everyone we're fuck buddies- what will they think of me!?"
"It's the truth, right? Stop your bitching." Geto snarled on your left.
"Exactly. I'd rather you use your mouth for something else." Gojo said on your right, his fingers moving to tug at his pants, starting to undo his belt.
"Wh-What the fuck are you-" you sputtered, your eyes flickering over to the taxi driver who seemed to be paying you no mind but-
"Oh, don't worry about him. He works for my family." Gojo said, pulling his hard cock out of his pants before he tapped on the driver’s seat, "Hey, you don't mind if this whore sucks my cock back here, do you?"
You yelped at Gojo's words, face a bright red as you heard the taxi driver chuckle. "Enjoy yourself, boss." he said, not even looking back as he put up the divider, giving the three of them some privacy.
"There we go. Happy?" Gojo asked as he leaned back against the leather seat, his arm reaching up to grab you by the back of your head. You gasped as he gripped onto a handful of your hair and tugged harshly, his hold on your unrelenting as he started to pull your head down to his lap.
"Get to sucking."
~~~~~
Oh God.
Oh God.
You ran your hands through your hair, eyes wide as you went over what happened last night. You had hoped it was a dream but...it wasn't. You got fingered in the restaurant, got kissed in front of everybody by your bullies before said bullies announced that you were all fuck buddies.
They got you back to one of Gojo's penthouses, (the bastard so rich he had multiple houses he could just use whenever he wanted) and once you reached it, having sucked them both off in the taxi, they cleaned you up the best they could before the three of you passed out on the bed. You fell asleep the second your head hit the pillow, too drunk and loopy to do anything else.
Which is how you found yourself in between them, the two men still sleeping as you contemplated moving country and changing your identity.
To your right, Gojo groaned, his eyes pressing tightly as he fought away the need to wake up, moving from his back to his side and throwing an arm around you. You froze as he pressed himself close to you, nuzzling his nose against your neck. "Fuuuuck..." he cursed, frowning, "My head is killing me..."
"Don't make it our problem." Geto groaned, woken up by his own hangover and Gojo's whining. He looked over at you, taking your appearance in, looking quite delectable in Gojo's oversized t-shirt.
"Mmph- gimme those tits..." Geto said as he fisted the hem of your t-shirt before he pulled it up harshly, bunching it all underneath your chin. You gasped as he immediately leaned forward and took a nipple into his mouth, his tongue lapping at it a few times before he sealed his lips around it. A groan on content left his throat as he started suckling on you gently, truly using your boobs as stress relief for his hangover, the pressure at which he sucked your nipple increasing and decreasing at a slow pace.
"I-I hate you two." you said even as a hand came up to thread through Geto's hair, watching as he closed his eyes and suckled on you. It was honestly a bit soothing, feeling him suckle on you gently and not maul on your nipple the way they usually did. Gojo grunted as he too moved down your body and took your other breast into his mouth, sloppier than Geto but still suckling on you hard enough to make your toes curl.
"Oh God...people are going to think I’m a whore..." you lamented, tossing your head back and accepting your fate, fingers threading through their hair as they used your body. "It's accurate." Geto teased, giving your nipple a few kitten licks before going back to sucking. "Exactly. And who cares what they think." Gojo said, running his tongue over the plush of your breast, making your whole boob wet with his saliva, "You're our whore and that's all you'll be."
"Whatever." you said, not even having the energy to argue. You simply lied down, almost going back to sleep from the sensation of them gently nursing on you. But within five minutes, Gojo was bored.
"Come on, let's go take a shower." Gojo said, pushing himself up with a groan as he got off the bed, but not before grabbing your wrist. Geto growled as Gojo pulled at you, not appreciating being interrupted as he wrapped his arms around you and glared at his friend even as he continued to suckle.
"Don't look at me like that." Gojo said, sticking out his tongue, "You can take her after I play with her."
'Play with her' meant him taking you to the shower and running his hands all over your body like a pervert, squeezing your flesh and washing every nook and cranny as he ordered you to stay still. Sometimes he'd fuck you- other time's he'd simply jerk off and cum on you- always something new with Gojo.
Geto growled, making you shiver at the sensation around your sensitive bud before he pulled away with a pop, a hickey already forming on the fat of your breast.
"Let's all shower together." he said, sitting up as well, "We have a mission today and the principal will kill us if we're late."
Oh right. You were assigned a mission with these two menaces. And if it wasn't tough enough dealing with them before they started fucking you, you can only imagine the shit you're going to have to put up with now. You sighed as the two men grabbed you and lifted you off of the bed, taking the t-shirt off of you and smacking your ass before pushing you towards the bathroom for a very...thorough bath.
~~~~~
"What's with the face?" Geto asked, tapping his finger on his arm as he waited for Gojo to finish getting dressed, "Doesn't it fit?"
"This- I can't wear this! It’s too short!" you protested, tugging at the skirt...if you could even call it that. You were wearing the school uniform but instead of your usual pants, the boys had demanded you wear something else. A mini skirt. The skirt only reached your thighs, even the slightest movements threatening to flash your whole ass.
"Might as well give the curses something to ogle at before they die." Geto teased, looking you up and down, nodding his head in satisfaction.
"Fuck you! I'm not wearing this!" you said, pressing your legs together as you reached for your discarded pants. But before you could even touch the fabric, you felt a sharp pain on your behind, a slap so loud and hard that it made you yelp, the force pushing you face first onto the bed. You whipped your head around, face hot as Geto stood above you, pushing up the skirt a bit to marvel at the red handprint he left behind.
"You don't have to wear it if you don't want to." he said as he pulled his phone out, pointing the camera at you and you couldn't stop him from taking a picture, "But it would be a shame if I accidentally sent this to the schools group chat~"
"...I'll wear it."
"Smart girl." Geto said with a laugh, the sound making your ears heat up in embarrassment. It made you shiver, thinking about all the material they had on you. Pictures, videos, text messages... they continued to torment you and it didn't seem like they'd get bored anytime soon.
And neither would you.
"Get on your knees and keep your face down." Geto ordered, still pointing his phone at you while he used the other hand to push the skirt up entirely, bunching it at your waist and exposing your panties, "Shake your hips. Grind that ass on me."
You gasped as you felt him move forward and press his crotch against your ass, his hardening cock obvious even through the fabric. He started to gently dry hump you, a somewhat bored expression on his face, like it was a chore to use your body to get off. He landed another sharp spank on your butt, reminding you that he was waiting for you to follow orders.
You bit your lower lip, fisting the bed-sheet tightly as you did as he asked, wiggling your hips and shaking your butt against Geto, gasping as you felt him grow harder against you. As you continued to shake, the door opened and Gojo walked in, dressed in his uniform as well.
He whistled as he watched the two of you, noting the redness of your ass cheeks. "Was she being naughty?" he asked, taking Geto's phone from him and continuing to film, giving his friend free reign to humiliate you easier.
"She tried to be." Geto said, reeling his hand back and spanking a cheek one more time before he grabbed your hips tightly, "But you know how she is. It's easy to put her in her place."
You yelped as Geto started to thrust against you, pushing his clothed erection against your clothed cunt as he dry humped you, the flesh of your butt rippling against him as he fake fucked you. Somehow, this felt more embarrassing than if he actually stuffed his cock inside you- it was like he couldn't be bothered to put in the effort but still wanted some pleasure.
He humped you a few times before he called it, pushing your hips away from him and making you collapse on the bed, your knees giving out as you panted against the bedsheet, face red hot with shame. You barely processed Gojo coming behind you, sliding his hand up your waist before he whisked your panties off, tugging them off of your legs before throwing them to the side. You were about to spread your legs, assuming the man was either going to eat you out or fuck you but he simply gave your butt a pat before saying:
"Get up. We gotta go."
"Wh-huh?" you babbled, watching as Gojo grabbed your skirt and pulled it down over your butt, the fabric barely covering you. You pushed yourself off of the bed and stood up, ears flushed as you once again were made aware of just how short the miniskirt was. All it took was for one small movement for anyone to see your privates. "Th-then why did you-"
"You thought being spanked was your punishment?" Gojo asked, a smirk on his face as he leaned in to kiss your cheek, "Nah. You don't get to wear panties."
"No- You can't!" you protested, pressing your hand between your legs, trying to pretend like your cunt wasn't gushing.
"Principal is asking if we've left yet." Geto said, interrupting the conversation, "I could send him a picture of you over Gojo's knee, getting your ass spanked and explain exactly why we're running late. Shall we do that?"
"...Let's go."
Gojo’s driver from last night was picking the three of you up and to your horror but not surprise, Gojo ordered you to sit in the passenger’s seat. You could feel the driver’s eyes on you as you tried to get into the car without flashing him, all decency thrown out the window as you practically covered your bare pussy with your hand as you sat down beside the stranger.
"Did you see her pussy?" Gojo asked once he settled down in the back, Geto beside him.
"I'm afraid not, Sir. She was covering herself." The driver confessed, quite expressionless.
"How rude. Hey," Gojo said, getting your attention as he tugged at your ear, "Spread your legs. Let him see your cunt."
You jumped, your ears ringing at his command, jaw dropping to the floor at the shameful demand. You pussy was already wet- "I- that's- I can't do that!"
"Either you spread your legs or I rip that skirt off and toss you out of the car. Your choice."
With a gulp, you took a deep, shaky breath, your heart hammering in your ears before you slowly started spreading your legs. You heard the driver’s breath hitch as your skirt bunched up, completely exposing your puffy pussy to him. He even leaned forward a bit to get a good look at you, making you close your eyes shut so you wouldn't have to see it.
You pressed your mouth close tightly so they wouldn't hear you moan.
"What do you think? Good pussy, right?" you heard Gojo ask, the other two men also leaning forward to look at you like they weren't more than familiar with your body.
"She's beautiful," the driver responded, "so puffy and cute~"
"Why don't you touch her a bit?"
You gasped, back arching off the seat as you immediately felt a hand on your pussy. Your eyes snapped open, watching as the driver had indeed slid his hand between your legs and was touching you. A total stranger was rubbing your cunt!
"She's so wet~" the man teased, a smile on his face as his fingers glided between your folds, the slick sound of your wetness echoing through the car, "Oh, she feels amazing."
"Doesn't she? She's a perfect little fuck toy~" Gojo said, biting his lower lip as he watched you get touched by the driver, a twinge of possessiveness popping up as he eventually ordered him to stop. The man immediately listened, pulling his hand away from your pussy before licking his fingers off your juices, the action making you moan in embarrassment.
"You know where to take us, right?"
"Yes Sir."
"Good. Get to it. And you," Gojo said, kicking your seat and getting your attention, "Keep your legs spread, got it? Give him something to look at while he drives."
After the long and awkward car ride where you kept your legs spread the whole time, the three of you were dropped off at your location (but not before the driver got to cop another feel). It was an abandoned location, decrepit and having a strong vibe of curses. The cursed energy was so strong it made your skin crawl and your teeth chatter. But you knew you had nothing to worry about. Not only were you strong, but you also had the two idiots with you who were labelled the strongest sorcerers.
It was strange that the curses were not the things that were making you nervous.
You tried not to think about how you were used as a toy. As a plaything. As something they can give other people permission to use as they pleased. You couldn’t believe that just seconds ago- a random stranger had their hands on your most private part.
You tried not to think about how much you loved it.
"Lead the way." Geto said, giving your butt a pat before you started walking. You didn't need to look behind you to know that they were taking pictures of you, Gojo one time practically putting the camera between your legs and taking an upward shot.
"Stop- I'm trying to focus!" you complained, pulling down the skirt as best as you could which you knew barely did anything.
"You'll only focus once you stop worrying about your outfit. It's just us here, after all." Geto said, "So flash that pussy and find the curse."
"I don't see you two doing any work." you said, cheeks red as you glared at them, "Find the curses, why don't you."
"Nah." Gojo said, idly scrolling through his phone, his glasses reflecting the photos he just took of you.
"The fuck you mean, nah?"
"It's your job to find and defeat the curses today." Geto explained, giving you a sly smile, "Do a good job and we might put in a good word with Yaga. Our recommendation means something, you know."
"...you guys are never that nice." you said, smelling a scheme, "what do you want?"
"We don't want anything." Gojo said, "And as long as you do as you're told, of course. Now push that skirt up and show me your ass."
You huffed, quickly realizing what this mission was going to be.
But hey, if you get a promotion through this...then perhaps you can stick it out.
You gripped your skirt and pulled it up, not having to do much as your peach butt got exposed. The two men laughed and whistled, getting enjoyment and more blackmail material: many pictures of you, in uniform, at a location of curses, flashing your butt. And this was only the beginning.
As you started tracking down the curse, your senses were on high alert and you gradually forgot about the skirt, the shiver you felt as you got in contact with the thick cursed energy making you decide that you needed to focus on the task as hand. You blocked out the two of them following behind you and you blocked out the sensation of your skirt riding up enough for your lower half to be almost bare. When you sprinted up the stairs, feeling a curse nearby, your skirt rode up completely and you only pulled it down once you reached the top.
In front of you was a curse, not a special grade but not weak either. It was a large, disgusting looking thing, oozing power but you knew it was not as strong as you.
"I'm guessing the two of you aren't going to help?" you asked, getting ready as the curse spotted you. "Nope." they responded, Gojo's phone out and pointing at you, taking a video, "all yours."
You didn't have time to respond as the curse suddenly lunged at you, dragging its disgusting body with surprising speed as it gained to attack. You sprinted around it, your body swift and deadly, understanding the way the curse worked in a matter of seconds. You countered every move with your own, slowly weakening it before you exorcised it, the curse dissipating in the wind.
"That was pretty decent, even for you." Geto said once Gojo stopped recording, "you didn't even let the fact that your whole pussy is out stop you from doing the job. Well done."
You looked down and sure enough, from all the running and the dodging and the fighting, your skirt had ridden up once more and your cunt was totally out in the open. You blushed and you quickly pulled the skirt back down, your ears turning red from the embarrassment.
"Fuck. I'm horny now." Gojo muttered as he pocketed his phone, "Hey, hands on the wall- I'm gonna fuck you."
"Wh-" you sputtered, blushing heavily, "But we're busy!"
"Geto can deal with it. My balls come first. Pun intended."
The black haired man rolled his eyes, a fond smile on his face as he said: "Fine. But I'm fucking her once I’m back so you better finish by then."
"No promises~"
Not caring about your response, Gojo walked upto you, gripping you by the back of your neck before he pushed you gently against the nearest wall, his other hand pulling your skirt up. Geto walked past the two of you, following the curse as he left you behind to get a pounding.
"Oh, you're so wet, you nasty bitch." Gojo snarked, grinning as he felt you up, his fingers sliding between your folds, "You loved walking around in this slutty little mini skirt, huh? Yeah, I know you loved it. Probably wanted us to fuck you this whole time."
"D-Don't flatter yourself!" you retorted, wincing as he pinched the plush of your butt before he changed your position a bit.
"Mhmm. You're real fucking convincing. Now spread your legs. I want to fuck this nasty pussy."
Grabbing you by the hips, he made you bend forward, your palms against the wall and your ass presented to him. He continued to play with your pussy, two fingers easily sliding inside of you while his other hand got to work on his pants. He simply slid them down enough for his cock to pop out, hard, throbbing and leaking pre-cum from the red tip. He tapped it against your ass, staining your skin with his fluid before he took his finger out and pressed the tip against your cunt.
He didn't care for foreplay and he didn't care if you felt good. He was here to fuck and that's what he was going to do. And you were going to take it.
"Oh yeah, that's a good pussy~" he groaned as he started pushing inside of you, his cockhead popping into you easily from how wet and dripping you were. You hated to admit it but running and around and flashing your privates had gotten you hot and bothered, even if you were just exposing yourself to the two men who were more than familiar with your body.
You gasped as he continued to bully his cock inside you, eventually bottoming out and spreading your cunt so deliciously wide. His groans were audible through the empty hallways, both his hands now grasping your hips greedily. With a lick of his lips and no warning, the man started to thrust, starting off a bit slow. Your moans jumped with each thrust, your ass rippling against his hips each time he fucked his cock deep, deep inside you.
Despite the many times you've gotten thoroughly pounded by Gojo, you simply can't seem to get used to his size. His cock was deliciously long and thick and each thrust in had his leaking cockhead pressed up against your womb. You slapped a hand over your mouth to muffle your noises on instinct, slick dripping down your legs and staining the floor.
"Fuuuuck- I'm addicted to this free use pussy!" Gojo growled as he not so gently smacked your ass, laughing at your squeal, "Bend you over and fuck you anytime- claim you as my personal whore. I fucking love it!"
“Shut the fuck u-u-upppp!” you squealed, his cock curving just right and bumping against your special spot, a rush of pleasure sparking through your spine. Gojo simply spanked you again before he used that hand to grab your hair, pulling at it roughly. You gasped as your head was pulled back, the pain of your hair being tugged at addicting.
“I felt your pussy tighten, bitch~” Gojo snarled with a smirk, “You love being bullied by us so much- it’s so pathetic and I love it.”
“You’re pathe- ohhh right there- right there!”
“Yeah? Here? Little bitch likes it when my cocks hits her right here?”
Gojo angled his hips so he hit your g-spot with every thrust forward, the clap of his hips against your butt practically echoing through the hallway. You couldn’t hold back your moans, little ‘uh-uh-uh’s leaving you as he pounded your cunt like a toy. You didn’t know how long the two of you were there for, fucking in the open, in the middle of the abandoned building. You were so focused on the pleasure that you didn’t notice the pressure of the curses suddenly disappear.
“Are you done yet? It’s my turn to cream her cunt.”
You groaned as Geto walked over to the two of you, wiping his mouth.
“I still got the taste of a curse on my tongue. I’d like to wash it down with her pussy.”
“Fuck- wait for a bit.” Gojo said, panting heavily, sweat marring his brow, “I’m almost done.”
“Nope. I’m not waiting.” Geto said, punching Gojo in the shoulder and ruining his rhythm, “Plus, there’s another curse that needs killing and I’m pretty sure it’s your turn.”
“You want- fuck-“ Gojo cursed, stilling inside you to give Geto a look, “You want me to fight a curse with a hardon?”
“Well, she fought one with her pussy out so I’m sure you can manage.”
Gojo sighed, rolling his eyes before he conceded, “Fine, fine. But you owe me one.”
“I do not. Now get going.”
Gojo pulled out of you, the slick sound of it making your body shiver as his erect cock stood tall, covered in your juices. He tucked himself back in his pants the best he could, his dick still straining against his pants as he quickly walked away, a determined look in his eyes. He wanted to finish off this final curse as soon as he could so he could get back to destroying your pussy.
Before you could even blink, a bit dazed from the lack of pleasure, Geto was on his knees behind you, his hands gripping your asscheeks before he pulled them apart and surged forward. Blood rushed upto your cheeks so fast you felt dizzy as Geto stuffed his face between your cheeks. He groaned as he rubbed his face on you for a bit, enjoying the feeling of your soft flesh against him like a pervert before he stuck his tongue out and got to licking. He took a long, greedy lick from your clit all the way upto your asshole, teasing your rim before slightly sticking his tongue inside.
Your body shivered, little gasps leaving your mouth at his shameless actions, the man starting to eat you out like a messy meal. He clearly didn't care if you felt good, his movements sloppier than usual, and obviously just wanted a taste. But that didn't stop your body from responding to him, your hips subconsciously pushing out in a silent plea for more, your pussy dripping. He lapped up your juices, drinking you down with a groan as his hands continued to squeeze and pinch at your cheeks.
“Fucking- perfect.” He moaned against you, his words vibrating your clit and making your knees shake, “Just what I needed.”
With a final, toe-curling suck to your clit, he stood up, ordering you to turn around and face him as he started undoing his pants. Your back was pressed against the wall, Geto standing close enough for your chests to almost touch.
“Take your top off. Get naked for me.” He groaned as he fished his dick out, giving it a few tugs as he eyed you down like you were a piece of meat. You gulped, heart beating fast in your chest as you hurriedly started to unbutton your blouse, trying to pretend like you weren’t eager.
If they knew just how needy you felt…
Geto suddenly grabbed you by the waist once your buttons were undone before he lifted you up like you weighed nothing. You yelped as he slammed you tightly against the wall, feeling his cock throb against your eager cunt as your legs wrapped around his waist. He grabbed onto the cup of your bra before pulling the right one down, exposing that nipple. He bent down and took it into his mouth, the man clearly having an obsession with your tits as he started suckling.
His eyelashes tickled your skin as he ran his tongue over your sensitive bud, giving it a few flicks with the tip before sealing his lips around it and giving it a toe-curling suck. As he suckled, his other hand slid down and grabbed his cock, tapping it a few times against your pussy before he slid in, the glide easy thanks to Gojo’s previous pounding.
“Ah- fuck-yes-“ you gasped out, unable to hold yourself back, briefly registering that all traces of curses had disappeared in an instant, Gojo having finished the job. It was only a matter of time before he rushes to the two of you, demanding to be back inside you.
This was what you were expected to do for them. Be a pair of spread legs for them to use whenever they want- to be fucked silly- to be bred- to be truly and utterly degraded. Maybe Gojo would make you suck his cock. Maybe the two of them would swap places. Or maybe they’d finally fuck your ass.
From the corner of your eye, your vision blurry thanks to the tears from how harshly Geto was pounding into you, you could see someone hurriedly walk towards you, unbuttoning his pants along the way and you couldn’t help but let out a laugh among your moans.
Today was going to be a long day.
~~~~~
#subby writes#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu gojo#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu geto#gojo x reader x geto#gojo satoru smut#gojo smut#gojo x reader#geto suguru smut#geto smut#geto x reader#geto suguru#gojo satoru
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dreamin' of him
• pairing: theodore nott x reader
• now playing: a little death by the neighbourhood / fuck it i love you by lana del rey
• word count: 5.7k
• genre: fluff
— a part of this is inspired by this scenario i saw on tiktok, can't exactly remember it which vid it was. anyways enjoy this little random scenario that i'm pretty sure is horrible because i didn't bother to proofread it again.
You shot right up from your sleep, limbs tangled in the sheets that had been strewn about haphazardly. The room is still as dark as it had been when you fell asleep with only the faint light of the full moon serving as your guiding light.
You drop your head onto your hands that sit on your folded knees, pressing the heels of your palm into your eyes until you can only see white. Ignoring the pain only so that you can be rid of the images that keep flashing in your mind.
It was excruciating, it played like a broken VHS record on your parents’ television back home. Every millisecond, a frame of you in such a vulnerable embrace with–
No. Y/N, stop it.
You were grappling with your sanity, feeling yourself incredulous at how such an idea came to fruition in your mind. Several nights’ on the end of this senseless, out-of-the-world dream that popped out of nowhere. The both of you hardly spoke with one another, for Merlin’s sake.
Throwing your head back, giving up on forcing the images out of your thoughts. Your head was spinning. Slamming your temple against the solid, wooden headboard behind you until you hear a ring resonating through your ears.
How did you let yourself get into this? What happened that you are being haunted— if that’s what you would even call it — by these dreams?
It’s been days of sleepless nights and you are plain tired. He must have cursed you. There was no other reason for this, right? He could be annoying when he wanted to be.
With your back resting on the headboard, you see that your dorm mates haven’t gotten back yet. Still, you remain seated as you wonder where they are, staring at the open window to your right.
“You’re the only one that can do this to me, Y/N…”
You gasp and sit straight, slapping your forehead with your open palm, trying to chase the image away. Throwing a glance at your watch that sits on the bedside table, you see that it’s only an hour and a half before you are supposed to wake up.
Exhaling loudly, you shove the blankets away from your body, feeling a warmth creep up on you. Maybe a good, cold, and long shower will distract you for good.
Grabbing a change of clothes, you head straight for the bathroom in your dorm. Now’s one of the few times you are glad that the dorms at Hogwarts have their own showers.
Looking at the small, worn mirror above the sink, you chuckle humorlessly at how disheveled your appearance is. Anyone who sees you right now might think that your dreams are last night’s reality.
Stepping under the painful cold water, your body unconsciously jolts at the shock.
Thinking about it makes your heart race. It gives you jitters, too. The feeling wasn't much to your liking. It was distracting. Not to mention it made you feel so... vulnerable. A shiver ran up your spine. You paused for a breath to calm your heightened nerves.
This has to end soon. You couldn’t stand another night spent thinking of him, of all people.
“I uh- I need to go.” You cough, clearing your throat, hands shaking slightly as you move to stand up. “I still have this essay for Potions.”
“What- Hey wait, Y/N!” Harry reaches out, nearly missing your arms.
“Why are you suddenly running off? It’s not due until next week?” Giving you a worried look. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, Harry. I feel extraordinarily perfect, I just- I wanna go back to my room right now.” You sigh, looking up at him. Your body remains tense under his tight grip. “So please let me go.”
Harry tries to not look disappointed, giving a quick glance back at your two other friends who watch you in silence. “Alright then, but if you need anything, you know where to find us.”
Giving him a small nod before pivoting in your heel, you walked straight to the Great Hall's large entryway. You ignored the way your skin burned with the intensity of the searing eyes that had locked onto you since its entry.
“Why did you leave in such a hurry?” A cool voice asks from behind you.
You freeze.
“Pardon?” You conjure up a reply, bluntly.
“Ok- what’s got your knickers in a twist?”
“Nothing!” You reply defensively. Wanting nothing more than to be back within the confines of your dorm room.
“Alright, alright. I got it.” The cool, calm voice waves off an erratic rhythm to your heart. You continue to stare forward along the corridor, paying no mind as he circles around until there is a face attached to the voice. “I was just wondering why you skittered out of the Hall faster than when you were caught by Filch with the Weasley twins.”
Tilting your chin towards your chest, “What do you want, Nott?”
“Nothing.” He shrugged, “I was just curious, that is all.”
You scoff at the mockery clear in his tone. “Seriously, what is it? Because if you’re only here to be an annoying twat, I have better places to be.”
You purposely bump into his shoulder as you make your way past him. Not in the mood to play along with him right now. Not when that stupid smirk of his is reeling images that you have been tirelessly trying to be rid of. Images that are the cause of your cranky attitude in the mornings.
From the corner of your eyes, you see him cock his head slightly to the right. Another thing you hate. He becomes more incessantly annoying when you are visibly annoyed by him.
“Nott.” You warn.
“What?“ He asks, amusement clear in his tone. “Am I not allowed to walk the same grounds that you do now?”
“Walk elsewhere. I am quite sure that you know of other paths from here to wherever you are to go. With your many endeavors, it’ll be stupid if you didn’t.” You murmur the latter under your breath.
“What was that?” He catches up to you, walking leisurely with his long legs. “Didn’t quite hear that last part properly.”
Before you could reply, a shout from the courtyard called both of your attention. A redhead girl from Ravenclaw was waving in your direction. You turn to look at Theodore who has now turned his sight back to you.
“I think she’s waiting for you.” You swiftly walk towards your house tower, making haste before he follows you again.
Unbeknownst to you, his stare remains fixated on you until your figure disappears around the corner. Only then does he wave back at the girl and make a quick return to the Hall where he left his friends mid-conversation.
It wasn’t the last that you see of Theodore after, nor was it the last morning when you woke up groggy and irritated at the lack of sleep. It seems that since then, the both of you find yourselves orbiting each other much more often than before.
Not that you found it all disappointing.
There were times that he was a good companion to have around— forget the hooded eyes that left you conscious every time. When he isn’t being an annoying twat, he knew how to hold a conversation with you; your lack of similarities is a good point as you were able to share things that the other didn’t know of.
But in truth, Theodore searched for you. In the boisterous chatters of students in the corridors, between the towering bookshelves of the library, through the window of the dimly lit Potions classroom where he has a clear view of Hagrid’s hut where you and your friends frequent.
He looks for you in all places, unable to help himself from an attempt to have a glimpse of you.
He did give his best efforts to tuck away his inexplainable attraction to you recently, and he wouldn’t dare admit that there is even a chance that he does. His denial was a fortress but cracks appeared within its walls with each time he talks to you.
“She’s at the Hospital Wing.” Blaise hesitatingly brings up.
He almost jerks up from his comfortable position on the couch where he and Blaise are observers of their other friend’s drunken endeavors. But he manages to grab a hold of himself before the other notices.
“Why bother telling me?” His forced indifference is not as apathetic as he wished it to be. “I don’t care.”
“Oh shut up, Theo. I have never seen you so utterly fond of another girl like you do with her.” Blaise retracts back to what he was gonna say, “Anyways, I hear she will be a volunteer ahead of the Quidditch match this Sunday.”
He doesn’t reply, letting the words of his friend slip from one ear to another. You were interesting. He was unsure how, in the many years you’ve known one another, that you caught his eye now.
“She’s nice, not unlike some of her friends at Gryffindor.” Blaise continues with his taunting, eager to see a reaction from Theo. “Even managed to convince me to be her partner for Herbology.”
Theo makes a noise in a mix between a scoff and a chuckle. “From the sound of how you speak of her, it’s like you’re the one that has caught butterflies.”
Blaise simply hums, nodding to himself. “Maybe.”
Not another word slips from him again. The silence of his relinquishment makes Theo’s heart skip a nervous beat. Blaise never gives up that easily.
“Hello there.” A voice makes you look up from your book which you have been drowned in since hours ago. To your surprise, it was Blaise.
“What are you doing here?” You ask. Curious why he had so suddenly appeared beside you while you were studying. You scour your brain, trying to remember if you had a project with him that ultimately passed by you.
“Go to Hogsmeade with me later.” Blaise blurts out while you gather your books that are scattered along the table.
“Huh?” You look up at him with wide eyes. You give out a confused laugh. Maybe you didn’t understand him, right? “Did I hear you right? Hogsmeade? The two of us?”
“Well, don’t make it sound like it’s such an atrocious thing.” He makes a sound of mock offense; even making the choice to put a hand above his chest. To which you vehemently shake your head.
“Gosh no! It’s just-“ You trail off. “Why all of a sudden?”
“Nothing at all…” He shrugs, but that look on his face tells you entirely different. The mischievous expression that is ever so slightly slipping through. “Just wanted to hang out with a good friend of mine.”
You look at him with a confused frown, unsure of what he’s doing. “Since when were we good friends? Last I checked we only talked every now and then and it was really only just for projects.”
“Just come with me, will you?”
“No.” You shake your head to further make your point. “Tell me why first and maybe I’ll consider.”
Blaise sighs, giving up. He had expected that you would not be giving in so easily to his request, after all, you weren’t really that close. But he still thought that it was worth the try, he is tired of Theo acting like he’s better than his emotions. He decides to tell you.
Well… somewhat.
“Alright, lady. I want to make a friend of mine jealous.” You hummed, listening intently. Wondering why he chose you to do it. “Also, because you’re the only person that I genuinely enjoy hanging with from other houses.”
“Will you tell me who’s the friend?” You ask.
“No.” He quickly replies, “But Y/N…I’ll treat you with anything you want at the Three Broomsticks or wherever else. Just please.” He draws out the please, adding hints or really a dump load of sweetness to it to charm you.
You think for a second more before finally giving him a nod. “Ok, but you’ll have to come with me to Honeydukes. Payback for doing whatever it is you’re planning.”
“You can have whatever you want. I’ll wait for you by the Fat Lady.” Blaise tells you before walking off with a huge grin on his face.
“Y/N?”
And when you turned your head, a surprised Blaize looked at you with a smile, apparently he had just been in mid-conversation with a fellow Slytherin as he hung about the entrance.
He whistled as he wasted no time approaching you, waving a curt goodbye to his previous companion.
“Remind me why you never wear clothes other than your uniform?” He asks, his eyes unabashedly trailing over you. Though not in a predatory way that leaves you uncomfortable.
“Because it’s a hassle having to think of an outfit when I could just put a uniform on and call it a day.”
He hums, nodding as he thought about it.
“Well you look good in your non-school clothes, you should wear them more often.” He suggests, although he quickly amends it. “Not that I’m saying you don’t look great normally, it’s just nice to see how you would personally choose the clothes you wear. It kind of reflects a lot of your personality more.”
The two of you make no rush as you travel to Hogsmeade along with the other students, chuckling at the eager third-years who are freely roaming around. Engaging in small talk all the way.
“What’s got you in such a sour mood?” You rolled your eyes at Theo, who has done nothing but glare at Blaise who sits beside you with such harsh blinding venom. “If all you plan to do here is to murder Blaise in a million ways inside your mind, then please do it some other time.”
The man beside you couldn’t help the amused choke that escapes him as he sips his glass of Butterbeer.
Theo finally breaks his lone stare down and shifts his attention to you. “Since when did you two hang about by yourselves?”
“We always have-“ Blaise starts to explain but he is cut off by a kick to his shin that makes his knee jerk up and hit the table.
“I wasn’t talking to you.”
His eyes remained fixated on you still, a medley of emotions behind them that you couldn’t exactly pinpoint.
“Well, Y/N? I’m waiting for you here.” He impatiently asks. “Are you two on a date?”
“Theo, if you think that we are, then why did you even come here?” You roll your eyes at whatever antics that the both of them are trying. Not realising that you called him by his nickname, usually reserved for his close friends.
“Well-“ He stammered, unable to explain why exactly did he approach you all of a sudden. “Blaise doesn’t have that good of a reputation with girls and I wanted to make sure he’s not trying anything with you.”
Blaise clears his throat in an attempt to remind his friend that he is still sitting at the table, clearly within earshot of whatever slander he’s being put to.
“I can hardly think of a reason why you would if he does, but we were just having a conversation as friends, Theo.” You finally answer. “Is it that much of a surprise that I tolerate one of you?”
“He wants it to be him.” The man beside you mutters under his breath which you ignore, thinking it is only a jab.
Theo once again kicks Blaise under the table, making the latter swear under his breath.
While the two of them bicker like they are some man-child, you spot Hermione and the rest of your friends coming in through a tiny door and sitting at a table by the staircase. You scoot over until you are out of the seat, glad that you chose to sit at the open end of the table, without making a noise.
You make quick haste to transfer to your friends' table without garnering attention from the two Slytherin boys.
“Hide me.” You drop your heavy body on the seat beside Harry, trying your best to hunch over his relatively short upper body.
The three instead laugh at your obvious demise, Ron not even trying to hide his amusement with such a burst of boisterous laughter. Unlike you, the three had noticed how Theodore Nott had been seen beside you much more often than necessary. At first, it was nothing that they really paid attention to, but when you told them of your otherwise eventful dreams…they began to have other thoughts.
It was clear that both of you were attracted to one another except for yourselves. And it’s been a hilarious sight to be an audience to but they are beginning to tire of your constant zoning off when the other is in your peripheral.
“What even is with you and Blaise coming to Hogsmeade together?” Ron asks. “I thought you liked Nott.”
You exhaled in exasperation, “How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t like him.” Gritting your teeth and clenching your jaw at the blatant teasing. “I am seriously beginning to regret telling you about my dreams.”
You watch as Harry stands to grab drinks for the rest of you guys, trying to explain why you came here. Not forgetting to mention how Theo had suddenly the conversation you’ve been having with Blaise.
You were shocked to find that the both of you actually shared a lot of the same interests in various aspects; books, music, values, name it all. So despite your previous disinclination to agree with his idea that you would get along well, you thoroughly enjoyed the short time that you spent alone.
His genuine interest in the many muggle creations that you’ve mentioned has made you all giddy. Telling him of all and everything that he must try, making a mental note to give him some things that you have in your dorm.
On the other end, Blaise shared a few of his interests with you— though it was only very few, given that the wizarding world does not really pay much attention to those kinds of things, especially the purebloods.
“So just because he bribed you with anything you want from Honeydukes, you agreed? Y/N!” Hermione exclaims, to which you only answer her with wide eyes.
“What?” You ask, furrowing your eyebrows at the bewildered expression on her face.
“You’ve been to Hogwarts for how many years now and yet you have no idea what going to Hogsmeade with only one person insinuates?”
“Uh- What?”
“That you two are going on a date of course?” She practically scolds you. Maybe you shouldn’t laugh at Ron anymore when she becomes like this. It's no joke that it feels like you could be the stupidest person on the planet.
“We’re only friends, for Merlin’s sake! Well, we became friends today.” You roll your eyes. “It’s not my fault that is what might people think.”
Harry and Ron look at each other with more than amused grins on their faces.
“I think I finally know why Nott was practically making the snow melt under his feet earlier,” Ron remarks. To which you give him a confused look, unsure what he meant.
“What?”
“Well, before we came in here, we saw Nott almost stomp his way to here. I swear that I actually saw steam coming out of his ears.” Ron exaggeratingly shares, taking a sip out of his pint glass. “I thought he was about to burn this place down to ashes with how he looked so mad.”
That explains why he’s being more moody than usual.
“What’s that got to do with Blaise and I?” You finally ask the question that’s been brewing in you since he mentioned it.
But the only response you get is a look of disbelief from all three of them. Each one just about screaming “Are you being serious?” without saying anything.
“Are you truly that dense Y/N?” Harry asks, his hand reaching out to pat you on the shoulder.
You push him off, glaring at him. “No, but seriously what do you mean?”
“Even Harry and Ron, oblivious as they come, recognise that Nott has some kind of interest in you.” Hermione explains, “I don’t even know if he realised it himself but the two of you are oozing love hearts everywhere you go. It’s torture to see how you both ignore it.”
You're left dumbfounded, feeling her cheeks flush with embarrassment at the mere suggestion. Your thoughts racing as you consider Hermione's words. Theodore Nott, the mysterious and enigmatic Slytherin, having an interest in you? It was a revelation that sent your mind reeling, and you couldn't help but wonder if you had been completely oblivious to his feelings all along.
No. That’s just… wrong. This had to be another one of their pranks again. Ever since you confided in them of your dreams, they’ve been ceaselessly teasing you with Theo. Yeah, this must be it.
You chose to respond in a haughty tone, in an attempt to mask her flustered feelings. “Gosh, if this is what spurs in your minds when I tell you about my struggles at night, then I’d rather just keep them to myself from now on. Find something else to speculate about.”
Unbeknownst to you, while you were so flustered trying to deny anything and everything they say of you and Theo, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had mentally orchestrated a plan. Harry subtly made a signal to the other two to play along as he saw Theo stand up from his heated conversation with Blaise to approach you four.
With sly smiles quickly masked, they leaned in closer to you and feigned curiosity.
“Alright then,” Ron begins, “But I heard from Hermione that you had another dream last night. Is it as juicy as last time?”
Harry chimed in, his eyebrows raised suggestively. “Yes, please spill the details. We’re all ears.”
Caught off guard by their sudden and out-of-place interest. “I said that I’m never telling you of anything again. And it's not juicy! Please don't ever use that word ever again.” You never wanted to divulge anything related to your rather steamy dreams again to your friends.
“This is the last time, we promise! And we promise to not annoy you any more with Nott.” Hermione exclaims though you reach out to slap her on her arm at how loudly she said it. Looking around the bustling crowd to see if anyone heard it, confused when you see Blaise sitting with somebody else now, probably some friends from Slytherin, Theo nowhere in sight.
Little did she know that Theo had indeed overheard their conversation and as he was slowly nearing their table, curiosity piqued as he heard his name. He slowed in his steps, waiting to hear more.
Your face turned an even deeper shade of crimson as you think back to last night, a bit different— a whole lot different. The dream had left you truly confused because it was nothing like the otherwise steamy ones you had. It was unsettlingly normal, and it has left you with a sense of unease that left you unable to sleep properly, terrified at what this means.
You cleared your throat, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. "Well, it was just a, you know, like the ones I told you. Nothing too different. I still hate it."
Hermione's eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned in, feigning innocence. "From the look on your face, it seems to be different. Tell us about it, pretty please."
You hesitated but then began to describe the dream in the most vague and unassuming way possible, but you knew no matter what you said, they would use this to tease you endlessly. "Alright, alright. So, in the dream, I was in the Black Lake, and there was a gentle, warm breeze. I was walking with someone, and it was peaceful. It was like…everything is normal. No war, no problems, no animosity, just us walking like any normal person.”
Harry and Ron exchanged knowing glances, while Hermione continued to prod gently. "And who were you walking with, Y/N?"
Your gaze darted around the table, avoiding eye contact. Not seeing how their eyes slightly shifted behind you. "Well, it was just someone... you know, a dream version of someone I know. Like you don’t know already."
Hermione shook her head, “Yeah but this is different, so it must be somebody else right?”
“Hermione…It’s Theo, who else.”
"Y/N…" You hear a voice behind you call out in a low tone, with a thread of voice.
Your eyes widen, filled to the brim with alertness and humiliation. Your mother was right, one day this mouth will get you in trouble— not that it hasn’t been proven countless times before— but now nothing made you want to become more one with the ground than this moment.
You swallow hard and turn around, instantly the mortification in your features becomes tenfold. There it is— the stupid, bloody smirk that is always present on his stupid, pretty face when he has caught you red-handed.
“Don’t.” You warn.
He leans his entire weight back on the wooden post behind him, staring down at you with a look of satisfaction, unapologetically reveling in your obvious embarrassment.
“Oh, but I must.” He drawls, his eyes gleaming with mischief.
Your frustration surges as you fold your arms, attempting to salvage a shred of dignity in this awkward moment. You give him a glare before turning back front facing to the table.
“You are truly insufferable, you know that?”
Without even being able to see it, you already know that his grin widens at your reply. “Guilty, I’m afraid.”
Theo pushed himself off the wooden post and sauntered closer to where you were sitting, making your heart stutter. The playful glint in his eyes brings forth an image that you would rather not see right now.
"But what's the fun in letting you off the hook so easily? It’s not every day that I find out somebody has been kept awake all night because of me."
You could only continue to cast a withering look at him as you shook your head. "You just love tormenting me, don't you?"
He sits down on the seat next to you, ignoring the other occupants who have reserved to remain quiet. Truly enjoying the show that you, unfortunately, are the star of. He inches closer to you until you can almost feel your eyelashes flutter at his breath.
“Only because I quite enjoy how flustered you can be.” He admits softly, and in that moment the playful teasing in his voice gives way to something else.
A different kind of tension.
Not one that you would like to be a part of.
“Well, that would be the last of it.”
Theo and your friends are left bewildered when you suddenly stand and disappear among the group of rowdy students.
His eyebrows furrow and his gleaming expression turns into one of confusion and a hint of hurt and disappointment. “What just happened?”
When he finally turns to look at your friends, all they do is share uneasy glances with each other. They were unsure of how to respond to Theo’s question when they could hardly comprehend what had only occurred.
Hermione opens her mouth to say something but closes it once more when the words in her mind are a jumble.
“Astronomy Tower.” He hears someone say. His cerulean blue eyes that somehow turned grey shifted to the bespectacled boy sitting a chair away from him. “Go.”
“Why did you run off?” You ignore the voice that shatters the silence. The bristles of the wind brush against your clothes. Your head thrumming as the sound of your shoes clicking against the concrete permeates into the air.
He calls you by your name with a gentleness that sends tingles down your spine. But yet again, you ignore him. Choosing to stare intently at the rust that forms by the railing in front of you, the complex chemical reaction is seemingly more interesting to you now.
“Y/N please…I don't know what’s going on your mind right now but we need to talk.” He moves to stand next to you, placing his arms on the barrier. “I will say it, no matter if you want to listen or not. We clearly have feelings for each other.”
You want to say that you are surprised that he is being so straightforward right now, but it’s evident that someone had to stop whatever dance the both of you had been playing at for the past month already.
“And that’s confirmed by what I heard earlier.” He chuckles in an attempt to lighten up the mood. “Gods, I hate you so much.”
“Your dreams say otherwise.” He continues with his teasing.
“Stop it. As if you’re any better with how you acted with Blaise earlier.” You hit him back. “Blaise is an annoying ass who meddles in my business way more often than necessary. But I guess he did one thing right.”
“What?” You ask, turning your body to lean on the railing, facing him.
“He kept bothering me about you, and I guess he got tired and decided to make a move leading us to this moment.”
“He can be pretty persuasive when he wants to be." You agree. Silence befalling after.
“Gods, I don’t know what happened but it’s you.” He breathes heavily.
A laugh escapes your chest, “If somebody came to us two months ago and told us that we’d be acting like this, I would think they’re mental.”
Theo grins at you, making you giggle to see the little fang on the corner of his mouth. He places his hands on your cheeks and cradles your face, making a move to press his forehead to yours as he nears.
The vivid, flashing images of Theo from your dreams doesn’t hold a candle to the real thing. The skin under his touch tingled and it made you itch to reach out with your fingertips, feeling as if you would crumble beneath his hands.
You pull away to stare up at him. The cold that typically veils over his eyes are gone as they reciprocate your stare with an even warmer touch. Every nerve ends in you lighting up with a golden electricity.
Theo opened his mouth, closed it again, opened it once more, and then shut it, apparently struggling to remember how to talk.
So, he decided that actions seem to be your thing anyways, as the two of you are quite horrible at talking.
Carefully, almost as if he’s never done it before, Theo leans forward and presses his lips against yours so gently. All you can think about is him even as you respond to his kiss, melting against the touch.
He pressed himself into you, attempting to tangle your bodies together. He wants to feel every inch of you against his skin, willing the gods to let you be one. Hell, he wanted to climb into your ribcage and possibly live out the rest of his days inside your heart.
You gasp as his hands creep under your shirt and trail along your lower back, though he doesn’t wander. He takes this as an opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth, exploring eagerly.
You tilt forward, answering his devotion with an equal eagerness. In your distraction, your hands slide from their hold on his shirt and travel until your fingertips meet behind his nape.
This goes for a while before a sudden splash from the waters below you makes you jump apart, though still very much physically attached. His arms were still tightly wound around your waist.
“I think that’s a sign we should stop for now.”
“Yeah, definitely.”
Laughter met in the air between you—sweet, short, intertwined. Although you would like to have another one of your dreams to come true, you want to take it slow. The idea that he thought of you as you did to him has still not truly sunk into your mind.
Even now as he leans his face slightly towards yours again and begins to leave soft, tender kisses all over your cheek, making butterflies appear in your stomach.
“Gods, I just realised something.” You laugh all of a sudden, making him stand up straight to look at you curiously. “What is it?”
“I just made Ron win a bet for the first time since we all became friends.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, he was the first person to tease me about these stupid dreams–”
“Excuse me, I rather think it’s not.” He interrupts playfully raising an eyebrow. “Shush.”
“Anyways,” You continue, “Harry and Hermione initially thought it was nothing and that it probably would stop after a while— obviously not. So Ron set a bet that I’ll end up having feelings for you or we’ll end up together.”
He chuckles, his eyes glinting with amusement. “I’m still surprised they didn’t hate the idea. With us being in literal houses that hate each other.”
“They’re only annoyed at some of you, honestly. The ones that perpetuate the ‘Slytherin’ motto too much.”
"Plus," he continued, the joking tone in his voice fading a bit, "even if they did have complaints, I would have ignored every single one and still pursued you."
“As if! You stormed to Hogsmeade just to interrupt our ‘date’ and you wouldn’t even admit it. If it weren’t for what our friends did, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”
“Let me pretend, for goodness’ sake woman!”
His playful exasperation brought a genuine smile to your face, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fade as you got lost in the playful banter you're used to with him.
masterlist
#harry potter#theodore nott#theo nott#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott x y/n#theodore nott x you#theodore nott fluff#theodore nott angst#theodore nott imagine#theodore nott fanfic#theodore nott fanfiction#slytherin#theodore nott oneshot
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Hello!
🌟 here again! I'm here with another request for our lovely bodyguard yandere.
Have you ever seen videos of fans jumping up onto stages with kpop idols? Then get carried away by security behind stage?
I'd love to see how our lovely violent baby girl would react to not being able to react with immediate violence as a reaction given all the eyes and cameras on him. Would he be stone faced just carrying the stage crasher by the collar like a cat? Or would he be dragging him by the legs into hell?
The reactions of fans to the bodyguard would be interesting too, I could see Reader being jealous over people thirsting over bodyguard on Twitter or something lol. Or bodyguard confused on why people would say stuff like "he could snap my back like a twig and I'd say thank you" about him.
Hope you are taking care, and I have my fingers crossed to hear from you eventually
Sincerely
-🌟
Long overdue and I'm terribly sorry about that! I had the ideas for a while now, but I could never find the proper words to assemble everything. ;-;
Yandere! Bodyguard x Idol! Reader (III)
Your bodyguard has gained sudden Internet fame after dealing with a crazed fan on stage. Naturally, he couldn't care less about anyone else, but that doesn't stop you from trying to make him jealous in return. Someone will have to be the sacrificial lamb to his murderous possessiveness.
Content: female reader, obsessive behavior, violence, death, reader and yandere are both psycho
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]
The screen of your phone lights up again and you only need a quick glance to know what it is. Another post about last night’s event. About your bodyguard. You sink your nails into the leather chair and look ahead towards the mirror, exchanging a smile with the hairstylist.
“Oh, it looks lovely! You always do such a great job.” You compliment the woman as you tilt your head both ways, admiring the gentle curls. Now get the fuck out already.
“I’m so glad! Is there anything else you’d like me to-”
“No, that’s all. You can go”, you respond curtly.
The stylist collects her products and waves at you, exiting the room. The phone vibrates once more with a new notification, and you promptly throw it against the door. It scatters in large chunks of scrap across the plush carpet.
The whole ordeal happened within seconds. You were performing the final song of the evening when a fan hurled himself over the security barrier and onto the stage. The people standing at the very front began screaming and some took their phones out, scrambling for a good angle to record everything.
“Please, (Y/N), I’m your biggest fan!” the man pleaded, approaching you with shaking hands.
You froze in place, observing his actions with the same indifference of watching a TV ad that goes on for too long. Before the stranger could even reach your proximity, your bodyguard effortlessly and speedily threw him over the shoulder, giving you a reassuring nod and retreating backstage. He had that smile on his face that signaled he was pissed, and your mouth hung open in realization: You wouldn’t be able to witness the massacre.
You knew that expression all too well. That man would never see the light of day again, and under normal circumstances you would be right behind your bodyguard, cheering him on and suggesting ways to further torment of whoever dared to get too close to you.
And yet, your little ritual had been interrupted. You stood there on the stage, baffled, as the other idols gathered around you with worried looks. You poor thing. That must’ve been terrifying. The audience was shouting words of support, encouraging you to continue as if nothing happened. With pursed lips, you tightened your grip around the microphone and reassured everyone of your well-being. The show had to go on, regardless of your bloodlust.
This morning, you woke up to hundreds of posts online about the incident. Or rather, the way your bodyguard dealt with it. You scrolled through photos, videos, and confessions regarding the mysterious stranger who protected you from harm.
“I need a man like that in my life!”, “I know, right? So cool!”, “Imagine how easily he’d pick you up”, “The broad shoulders! I’m in love <3”
You don’t even have time to be properly upset about it. Your schedule for the day is packed with interviews and photoshoots. You glance in the mirror one final time and exit the room. The bodyguard has been waiting for you, resting against the wall with crossed arms.
“I need a new phone”, you tell him in a casual tone.
“What happened to the previous one?” He inquires, somewhat confused by your sudden request.
“Just do it!” You snap at the large man, rushing past him without providing any window for a reaction.
Ideally, you would very much like to tell him that the sudden influx of attention irritates you beyond comprehension. Then he’d reassure you that his indifference towards everyone else has not changed whatsoever, and thus your worries are entirely unfounded; but, if you need an outlet to release all that stress, he can easily find an empty changing room and service you like he always does.
Unfortunately, there is no time for that.
The bodyguard follows your movements with raised eyebrows, perplexed. What could’ve gotten you into such a sour mood? Has someone caused you to be upset? Are you still pouting after the missed playtime? He ponders the possibilities as he searches for an assistant.
The employee is visibly startled upon hearing his deep voice calling her. She turns obediently and nods, flashing her best customer-facing smile.
“Can you get (Y/N) a new phone?” he asks plainly.
“Huh? Sure…Did she specify any preferences? What was her previous model?”
He stares in confusion.
“…Can’t you guess?” she insists.
“I’m not good with these things.” The bodyguard rummages through his pocket and pulls out an old, cracked device to prove his point. “I don’t use phones much.”
Why would he? The only time he needs a phone is when he’s apart from you, which hasn’t happened since the Christmas incident. He previously considered a more modern option, so he could stalk your social media and make sure you don’t have any perverts sliding into your messages. That proved to be unnecessary, as you frequently leave your phone unattended or involve him in the process: most of your photos posted online nowadays are actually curated by his truly.
“Oh, so you don’t know about the recent craze?” The woman chuckles and takes out her own phone, speedily tapping on the screen before presenting it to the man. “See? You’re trending!”
He scans the multitude of messages. Ah, so that’s what it was. His lips curl into a grin. To think he’d witness his spoiled idol struggle with jealousy.
“That will be it for today!” the photographer announces, gesturing with his hands and guiding his helpers with the expensive equipment.
This was it, the last photoshoot. You unscrew the cap from your water bottle and take a healthy sip from it, wiping the sweat off your forehead with your other hand. The only good part about the continuous work was that you couldn’t check more of those annoying posts drooling over your bodyguard. Remembering it is enough to increase your heartbeat. The male model you were paired with for this campaign walks in your direction.
“Say, do you have anything planned after this?” He questions smugly. “You could come back to my place.”
What a ridiculous idea, you think with a grimace. Does this asshat think he’s worthy of your company? After a second of contemplation, you’re flooded with the same disappointment you felt back on the stage, watching your fan being carried away like a mere piece of cardboard over the much larger frame of your bodyguard. You might just consider the stupid offer. Why not? It’s not fair to be the only one plagued by jealousy.
“Sure. I know a better place, though.”
Your eyes narrow in a bright smile and you lead the young man towards your backstage room. As you pass by your bodyguard, you remember to mention in a low voice: “Make sure no one disturbs us.” He doesn’t answer, merely gazes at you with an empty expression.
“Man, that guy is scary as hell”, the model remarks as he throws himself in your vanity seat. “Are you not afraid to be alone with him?”
“Not really, no”, you respond idly. “You, on the other hand…”
“Excuse me?”
Now then. To set the scene, you gingerly climb into the man’s lap and adjust your arms around his neck. What a frail little human in comparison to your bodyguard. You blush in anticipation and begin counting in your head.
“H-hey, what did you mean-”
The young man is interrupted by someone’s abrupt intrusion. Your bodyguard throws you a quick glance before turning to close the door behind him. Alright, he can’t be too excited. He must pretend he’s furious, baffled, out for the hunt. You went all the way out for him. He even checked his watch to make sure you had enough time. He can’t let his enthusiasm betray him.
You jump out of the model’s hold with a gasp.
“It’s not what you think~!” you exclaim with feigned surprise. “He started flirting with me and I…” Your words trail off and you rub your arm nervously.
The bodyguard approaches the other man with monotonous movements and grabs him by the collar.
“Wait, you can’t possibly…he’s a well-known model!”, you protest with a fake cry.
Sweet little darling. Worry not, he won’t disappoint you. He’ll put on the best show for your sake. Anything to soothe your innocent heart.
“Could be the President himself”, your bodyguard confesses with a dash of theatrics, “and I’d still break his fucking neck for touching you.” He pulls out his pocketknife and looks at you. “I’ll deal with you in a moment, Miss.”
Your knees weaken and you have to rest against the vanity table. Among the screams and pleads for mercy coming from the poor butchered model, you can only focus on one thing: the violent fucking you’re about to receive.
Your bodyguard truly knows you best.
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x darling#yandere x you#yandere male x reader#yandere bodyguard#yandere imagine#yandere imagines#yandere scenarios#yandere oc#yandere oc x reader#yandere fic#yandere male#obsessive love#female reader
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the body is such a strange and vapid creature. i am eating soup with noodles that i cooked in a microwave. i don't know how microwaves work, only that most of my meals come from her yellow mouth. i put mine on the fridge; i have to stand on tip toes to take the bowl out, balancing it on fingertips.
i have to eat soup because i'm coughing up blood.
when you have been raised wrong, conditions of alarm are offset. which is to say that three weeks ago, i had a panic attack because i thought i saw him the liquor store. i collapsed into a heap, ready to sob into multicolored gin bottles. it was just someone who looked a lot like him, working a shitty 9-5. the poor man. what must it be like, to have someone go pale at your profile.
i spoke too loudly during a zoom meeting, and nobody answered immediately. the shame of that scoured my entire ribcage clean. i hated the experience so much i wrote it down in my notes: a reminder not to be so fucking annoying!
but the conditions of alarm are met at the moment. i am well-and-truly ill, the blood in my hand and on the pavement. at this moment in dr. house episodes i would be swaying, and then i'd collapse delicately and awaken in a crisp hospital bed. instead my dog bites my hand in excitement. now there is blood on his muzzle.
i am diabolically, almost robotically calm about it. i laugh about it, actually. i am feeling positively waifish. i am one nightgown away from holding an oil lamp up and saying milord? are thee turnin' in for the night? new blood is pinkish, almost feminine in her brightness, a tease into the tissue.
i haven't ever cried at a funeral. i didn't know you were actually allowed to. it felt like new blood - a way of making it about me, when my job is to flatter the shadows and stay tucked out of the way. i am always doing something for someone else. i am always earning my keep. i am always loveable, because i will do what it takes to make you able to love me.
here are the personal things i have been worried about in the last three weeks: if the spider i put outside was now able to restart her life. if an hour and a half every day is enough walking for a greyhound. if i drink too much coffee. if all my friends secretly hate me. if i'm a bad friend and i should be sad about it. what happens after this next goalpost? what if i'm deeply and inherently boring?
i cough up blood. my mouth tastes like iron gummies. i am not worried about this. my body is a seahorse. my body is an ocean wave. i can detach from it, be outside of it - just float away.
#this doesn't make sense#but i think it might be a#iykyk#but not in a fun way lol#writeblr#warm up#to the medical professionals in my ask box: ah. i will listen and if in 3 days the blood keeps Happening i will address it#i thought this is just something that can happen
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