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kissitbttr · 4 months

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a very tiny fic of frat!miguel pining on cheerleader!y/n in college. might expand, we’ll see ;)

fucking. frat parties, man,

you hate it. despise it even. what’s so good about them anyway other than the fact watching dumb boys in snapbacks making a fool of themselves with drinking games?

definitely not your scene, but unluckily for you—it has always been your friends favorite thing to look forward to,

“you need to cut yourself some slack babe. this party will do you good! i promise!”

rolling your eyes, you slip on one of your favorite heels before glaring at her. “doubt it but thanks for the positivity”

“maybe todd will be there and you guys will catch up?”

“like hell we will” you scoff, walking towards the dressing table to pamper yourself,

“that shit is history, he’s a fucking dead man”

a certified douche bag, that’s what todd is. dated him in freshman year and the relationship went for about six months before calling it quits because he had his tongue down some other girl’s throat and he had the nerve to blame it on you,

you were pretty much done with men at that point,

“she’s right” one of your friends, gloria points out. “you guys forgot what that asshole did to her, hm?”

“but” one girl steps in. “people change, right?”

you and gloria exchange looks, biting back a mocking smile at how innocent and naive the girl sounds. however, you shake your head at gloria, telling her to hold it in.

“yeah, sure” you shrug at her question, busying yourself with makeups as the other girls from behind you continue with their chatting,

“what about miguel? that tall sexy one”

your hand freezes at the name, as a collective of ooh’s and dreamy sighs fall upon your ears. yet you dismiss it anyway,

“and what about him?”

lyla, the pixie haired cut girl chimes in. “wasn’t he the one who blew you a kiss during the football game? you know, when you were cheering”

it was the championship game, one after finals had ended. you and your cheerleading team were on the sidelines doing the stunts. one of the duties of being one was to cheer for your home team. being extra perky and all smiley,

he scored another touchdown within the last ten seconds, in which the crowd had erupted into loud cheers. this man sure got some speed on his feet,

you clapped your poms poms together, jumping in excitement while yelling out his jersey number. the rest of the girls are doing the same thing, some even louder than others. leading the crowd to loudly chant his last name,

miguel took his helmet off, smiling proudly at the full audience while bumping his chest with his fist. then his eyes landed on you, smile going wider as he watched you cheer for his team,

then he did it. blew you a kiss as he waved. mouthing a ‘that one’s for you’ before winking, in which you only rolled your eyes at the respond. you truly had no time entertaining another heartbreaker on campus.

that man maybe devilishly handsome and charming, but he also shared some highly disturbing amounts of girls in his dorm,

or so you have heard.

his friend jogged towards him, clasping his hand around miguel’s shoulder,

“new girlfriend, o’hara? or looking for a quick fuck?”

if it was any other circumstances, he’d punch him for saying that about you. but he was far too entranced by your beauty to actually give a shit. instead he smiled, eyes refused sto leave yours as he watched your body move.

“girlfriend. working on it, compá”

his voice is confident. almost like he’s sure that you’ll be his. and you will

miguel finds you to be far more intriguing than the rest. beautiful, top of the class, fucking funny too. ever since he had exchanged a couple words with you during one the class you both shared, you pretty much occupy his mind from there.

and he had watched you punch one of the guys at his party one time so safe to say you’re the reason why his dick is hard for the rest of the night

“not only that. he touched down and said it was for you, didn’t he?! ugh! i am so freaking jealous!”

it’s almost funny how hopeless romantic most of your friends are. i mean sure, you are too, who isn’t? but you would argue that if it wasn’t coming from miguel, those girls probably won’t be swooning like right now,

“you both are overreacting. he was just in the heat of the moment.”

“nuh uh” gloria shakes her head in disagreement, scoffing with a small smirk. “she’s right, that boy wants you. he wants you bad. like ‘24/7 deep dick inside your pussy and won’t let you walk straight after fucking’ wants you”

“a very… vivid detail, gloria…” you widen your eyes with a laugh while the other girls agree. “but okay”

“how do you even know that?”

“beck said so” she shrugs, making you look at her with a deadpan expression. “what? me and him went back to fucking, don’t judge me!”

a snort escapes your lips, tugging the lipgloss back out of your makeup pouch before unscrewing the tube,

“he’s like a total player, no? i don’t think i could get together with a man who sticks his dick into any hole”

“that’s not true. they’re just rumors”

“yeah, wasn’t dana the only girl he had ever dated?”

“no that was xina. dana fucked his brother”

“what?!”

“isn’t it the other way around?”

“i’ve never seen him with girls that often. your opinion could be wrong y/n”

you brush it off and let the girls gossip in the back. whether it’s true or not, staying away would probably better. after todd, you don’t think you can afford another heartbreak.

fucking. men

the party had started a few hours ago, and it’s packed. a lot of students come and start filling up the house, the sound of asap rocky’s ‘frat rules’ booming through the speakers.

it’s not even close to midnight but miguel already spot a few kids getting drunk and throwing up in the backyard making him winces in disgust. he has told a few of his friends to keep an eye for broken furnitures but he doubts any of them listen,

they’re far too busy exchanging saliva with some of the girls from the sorority,

“yo o’hara! beer pong later! you’re on my team!”

peter, one of his frat brothers yells. miguel looks over his shoulder to see him standing by the pong table with the others, he has his arm around a red haired girl’s shoulder.

miguel flashes a smile, head shaking as he fixes himself a beer from the keg. “count me out, parker. go find other team player”

“oh boo! you’re no fun these days, o’hara! don’t tell me you’re standing by to see if she’s coming?”

“wait, miguel’s crushing on someone?” the red haired asks

“i told you babe, it’s the girl from cheerleading team”

miguel doesn’t respond, because peter is right. he has been scanning over the room, pacing back to back to see if you’re here yet. a disappointment sigh leaves his mouth each time he fails to find you,

his frat brothers think he’s gone crazy. because why would he get himself so worked up over one girl when there’s dozens of others lining up to get dicked down by him? pretty ones even,

but that’s the thing, miguel doesn’t find hooking up to be something that needs to be praised for. why would he pat himself on the back for screwing half of the sorority sisters? or bet on who gets to be the lucky bastard to get into the quiet girl’s panties?

gross. that’s for sure. but it seems that his brothers think otherwise. he has no say in that, obviously. to each their own.

“she’s coming, dude. chill. you’ve been eyeing the goddamn door non-stop” beck chuckles, sipping on his beer can

he ignores him, clicking the tongue against his teeth. “you told gloria, right? to bring her here?”

“i did. so stop worrying. enjoy for a bit”

beck leaves him with that, not before bumping miguel’s shoulder lightly with his fist, leaving miguel with his brows furrowed and lip in a small pout,

‘where are you?’ he thinks,

“hey miguel”

a feminine voice pulls him out of the trance, in which he quirks an eyebrow and notices a short haired girl appears by his side, dragging her long manicured nails down his bicep,

“not interested” he shoots her a quick glare before averting his gaze back towards the door,

the girl pouts, taking the bold move by resting her temple against his shoulder in which he shakes her off causing her to gasp,

“the fuck o’hara?!”

“i told you. not interested. beat it” he downs his red solo cup before scrunching it, licking his lips. “go find another guy to bang”

she huffs at that, stomping her feet like a child like her parents refuses to give her candy,

“i mean it. move, i am not—“

“y/n! gloria! you two made it!”

that does it for him. soon as he hears your name falls from beck’s mouth, his gaze never moves quicker. seeing his frat brother by the entrance, greeting gloria with a kiss and you’re standing by gloria’s side with a small smile,

oh god, you.

who looks absolutely breathtaking tonight. adorned in a pretty pink dress that hugs your curves in the right way, your makeup is light and he’s thankful for that. long thick hair fall against your back, leaving your shoulders exposed,

simple yet look so expensive,

miguel pays no mind to the girl besides him, simply just walking away. he doesn’t even bother to acknowledge the people who congratulates him on the win as he strides closer to you,

“y/n y/l/n… what a sight for sore eyes it is to see you, muñeca”

a familiar voice saying your name makes your head turn, seeing who it is. the head of fraternity. miguel o’hara,

he has his arms crossed, causing his biceps to bulge a bit, making him look bigger than he already is. you eye the outfit he has on. a black muscle tank and grey sweatpants. chocolate hair tucked into a bright red snapback that he props on backwards,

he shoots you a flirty smirk, walking a little bit closer just enough to create a small gap between the two of you,

“miguel o’hara” you speak his name, faking a smile. “surprised to see you still sticking around here. i thought you’d be by your room already, pleasuring another girl”

he winces playfully, hand over his heart pretending to be hurt. “ouch, muñeca” a small chuckles leaves his mouth as he watches you roll your eyes, “always with the horrible assumptions. care to play nice this time?”

you glance at him with a scoff. “we both know that’s a fact. you always leave with a girl, don’t you?” you question, eyebrows furrowing as you tilt your head to the side,

he hums, scanning the room before looking back at you. “false. but i’ll let you believe what you want to believe, muñeca.”

you try to guess if he’s being sarcastic with it or actually telling the truth, and you swear it’s the latter. however, you refuse to fall for it,

“what do you want, o’hara?” you sigh, sipping on the beer gloria had offered earlier,

with a chuckle, he leans against the nearest wall, hands shoved into the pockets of his pants. “is it a crime for me to talk to a pretty girl i have a crush on? is there any written policies about that?”

your heart flutters when he calls you pretty. not to mention, a crush?

yeah okay, you do find him extremely attractive and sexy. like, really really sexy. guilty as charged. but who doesn’t think so? his dashing smile and seemingly soft hair do make you a little bit crazy. he’s a total heartthrob on campus.

not only is he the vice captain of the football team but he’s one smart student. passes every class, rarely get a score below B’s. no wonder why teachers are chasing his ass for him to tutor some of the students.

and if that’s not enough, you know how much he loves to spend his time volunteering at local organizations, doing food kits for donations even providing a cost-free child care around the community,

he’s almost—too good to be true.

“i’m flattered, truly. but flirting won’t get you anywhere, mr.” you wag your finger side to side,

“seriously?”

“seriously”

“wow” he breathes out a sigh, faking a disappointment. “i got to try harder than that then”

a giggle leaves your mouth, head shaking. “my advice? stop trying, o’hara”

“i can’t do that, muñeca”

you tilt your head to the side,. “and why’s that?”

“i just told you”

“hm. surely there are other girls out there, o’hara”

“i don’t want them”

“persistent aren’t you?”

“kind of” he casually shrugs. “why, you don’t like it?”

“quite the opposite”

“and why is that entertaining to you?” he asks with a smirk,

“i like seeing men desperate. i like seeing them beg for something they know they can’t have” you bite down onto your lower lip. your respond is not meant to be flirty, but more of like a playful statement.

yet somehow, it triggers something in him. something good.

his eyes flicker down to your mouth, puffing out a deep breath. “shit, you’re making it harder for me now” he mumbles, tongue sticking out to wet down his lip,

“harder to what exactly?”

“to not want you” he replies bluntly, tone changes into a serious one. but it doesn’t come off as a lust or desperation,

your smile falters a little when you realize how serious he becomes. swallowing a lump on your throat, fingers digging into the skin of your arms. eyes are now onto his, and you don’t quite get why it feels so difficult to just look away,

“miguel i—“

“shit, i ruined it, didn’t i? eres un idiota” he curses himself with a grunt shaking his head. hands on his hips “sorry, i’m just— fuck you look so good right now muñeca and there’s like a million things going through my mind when i look at you—“

“miguel—“

“obviously i’m not going to tell you because it’s pg-13 all up in here” he points at his head. “and i don’t want to scare you—“

“miguel—“

“but i went past puberty so i’m not some kind of horny teenager that—“

“miguel! jesus, shut up!” you finally exclaim, and that does it for him. his movements stop when he hears you yell out his name,

clearing your throat, you regain your posture before setting the beer down on the nearest table,

“listen i—i just don’t know what to say after that” you begin with a nervous laugh, tucking a loose hair behind your ear. “you have a crush on me?”

his bushy brows dip into a frown. “didn’t i make it clear these past few weeks?”

“huh?”

“i brought you lunch, let you borrowed my favorite pen during class, i even asked your number through gloria but she didn’t want to give it to me” his shoulders slouch in disappointment. “i’ve had a crush on you since— I don’t know, too long. you’re a tough woman to please, muñeca. i give you that”

“that’s only one time! how am i supposed to know that you weren’t just looking to hook up?”

“ay dios mio! if i wanted to just have sex with you, i would try to get closer with you during a party! which is… technically what i’m doing right now but— that’s not the point!” he groans, rubbing his hands all over his face in frustrations,

“you seriously didn’t notice the signs?!”

“those weren’t fucking signs, dumbass. try to do more than being subtle, why don’t you?!”

“well it’s hard when you keep dodging me and rolling your eyes everytime i talk to you!”

“how can i?! when you slept with like half of the sorority girls on campus?!”

“how many times do i have to tell you that what you hear is not true? i don’t know where you got that from but i can assure you that i haven’t fucked anyone in months! and the idea of hooking up with random girls doesn’t sound appealing to me! want some prove? ask my brothers about that, go on! or ask beck, he’ll tell you the truth. that man is prone to never lying”

you go quiet. face softening a little,

“wait… then what about the girls i saw you walking with after a party?”

“to walk them safely to their cars or their dorm room. that’s it” he explains, watching the surprised look on your face.

“now.. how do you see me?”

you feel terrible for believing all those rumors first before actually knowing it’s confirmed or not. you are taught to never ever judge a book by its cover and you just did,

fuck you’re a terrible person,

“oh..” you mutter softly. “shit—i’m so sorry miguel, I didn’t know”

“it’s fine, don’t worry about it”

“what? no! i was acting like a complete bitch! ugh fuuuuck” you whine, stomping your heel on the ground as miguel watches in amusement,

‘you’re adorable’ he wanted to say,

“i feel terrible—no, i am actually” you grumble, “how can i make it up to you?”

a bright smile spreads across his face. “allow me to get to know you throughout the night? no funny business i promise”

his eyes are glinting with hope when he looks at you, feeling nervous that you might reject him but he’s not letting you see that,

you mirror his expression, feeling your cheeks warm by his question. “miguel—i’d love to but… no offense, i kinda didn’t want to go to your party in the first place, i only went because gloria asked me to and uhm.. i don’t know if i wanted to stay, actually—it’s not because of you but mainly because my social battery had died even before i got here”

“we don’t have to stay—we can go out. we’ll pick a place and go or you can pick, i’m down with whatever”

with wide eyes, you reply “what?”

“yeah. there’s a good diner i always go to when i’m craving for a good burger or a shawarma truck down the street. they don’t have tables and everything but we can order and eat in my car.”

“unless you have better options, it’s cool” he adds

you try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach but it’s hard not to when he’s being extremely… attentive?

my god, is this actually miguel o’hara? the man who’s painted to be heartless and a player?

“mig- this is your party. you can’t just leave” you softly laugh. “we can catch up another time, i hate to be—“

“it’s fine, muñeca. this party is good as it can be without me. besides” he reaches into his pocket to grab his keys,

“i’d like to spend time with you.. is that… okay?”

he’s being careful with his words, because he doesn’t want to scare you off or come off desperate. the last thing he needed was to have you feel repulsed by him,

you give him with a soft smile, looking up at his ruby eyes with your pretty doe ones and from then on, miguel is absolutely sure that he’s in. so fucking in that he knows there is no way out,

it’s not like he wants it any other way

“that’s okay”

i was going to make her super mean and bitchy but i figured i’d use that for some other time,

also please tell me this doesn’t sucked. i hate for this one to flop because i might start to fall in love with these pairings

feel free to send your ideas and thoughts about these two

(i might actually write one where they both meet the first time)

#there’s going to be more i promise!!#miguel o’hara blurbs #miguel o’hara drabbles #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o'hara #frat!miguel

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evansbby · 7 months

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𝐖𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐☆.｡.:*

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐈 - 𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: mean jock!Ari Levinson x naive!reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: extreme voyeurism, daddy!kink, drugs (ecstasy), smutt, dd/lg vibes, dubcon, choking, dark Ari, liar Ari, cheater Ari, mean Ari, size difference, innocence kink, naive reader, 18+ only, minors dni!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Finally sick of Ari's lies, you're determined not to fall victim to his charms again.

𝐀/𝐍: This is part 2 of my fic, Wicked Games. Oh, I'm nervous about posting this! Please forgive any mistakes! Major warning for drug use and dubcon smut! Also, we finally find out who the second love interest it! Word count: 14.7k.

Coming to this party was a huge mistake, and you realise that the moment you enter the frat house. The music’s so loud, you can barely hear yourself think. You definitely can’t hear your friend Wanda, who’s excitedly mouthing stuff at you as she hands you a shot. You quickly down it with her before taking in your surroundings: the whole room is dark and packed, with red and black strobe lights thumping along with the music. Bodies writhing at every turn, people laughing, screaming, kissing and more.

And then you see him. Amongst the sea of what feels like a bazillion people, Ari stands heads above them all. The 6’6’’ captain of the basketball team, so handsome in a white shirt that clings snugly to his muscular biceps. Even with a snapback resting backwards on his head, you can still see tufts of his long brown hair curling at the base of his neck. God, did he have to be so goddamn hot?

Of course, he’s staring straight back at you, and you know you should look away. But you stand there, gormless and entranced like a schoolgirl. Watching him take in your body, letting his eyes trail leisurely down your form and drink everything in. He’s a fair distance away from you and half obstructed by dancing bodies, but you somehow still see his pink tongue peak out and run over his lips hungrily as he gazes at you.

Your dress is fire-engine red, daringly short and so form fitting that it barely covers your butt. The material is stretchy, hugging your body as the neckline dips lower than what you’re normally used to. You know Ari recognises the dress by the way his Adam’s apple bobs up and down. His eyes are locked in place, taking over your accentuated curves and pushed up cleavage.

He’d seen it in your closet a few weeks ago, and you remember how he’d picked it up and whistled. “What a slutty dress, baby.” He’d said, “Why don’t you put it on for daddy?” And of course, you had. You did anything he asked you to, and you’d never forget how dark his eyes had gotten, and how sombre he’d looked as he’d beckoned you over to his lap, his hands running up and down your body covered in the thin red fabric. “I don’t want you wearing this dress in public, okay baby? Slutty dresses like this are for my eyes only. Promise me you’ll never wear this for anyone else.”

And promise you had, but yet here you were. And you can practically see the smoke billowing out of Ari’s ears, and you can see his jaw clenching as he’s unable to rip his eyes off of you. And you feel almost bad for disobeying him, until you see a pink manicured hand grab Ari’s face and pull him down for a kiss. Sharon. He was here with her. But of course, he was here with her! She was his girlfriend, after all. And you were the gullible fool who he’d strung along the whole time he was with her.

It had only taken you a few days after your last hook-up with Ari in the locker-room to realise that he had not broken up with Sharon like he’d told you he had. You’d seen them together on the campus courtyard, hand-in-hand, Sharon looking happier than ever. She definitely didn’t look like someone whose uncle had just died. Ari had seen you too, and all he could muster up was a sheepish look before his girlfriend had dragged him away.

That had been last week, and since then, he’d been texting you nonstop.

Ari: Baby, it’s not what it looks like. Me and Sharon are just friends now!

Ari: Okay, fine. We got back together. But, baby, it’s only temporary ;) You know you’re my number one girl.

Ari: Send daddy a pic, baby girl ;)

Ari: Okay, I get that you’re mad but you know I don’t like it when you ignore my messages.

Ari: I miss you, baby. Let’s FaceTime soon, okay? Wear something sexy ;)

Ari: Fuck you. I’ve got plenty of other options.

You prided yourself on not answering even one of his texts, despite the fact that you could feel your resolve weakening all week. But you were determined to never speak to him again, and definitely never be his play-thing or side-chick again. And now here you were, at a frat party that you’d let your friend Wanda drag you to. Which you definitely didn’t come just so you could show Ari exactly what he was missing out on. Definitely not…

Tearing your gaze away from the beefy basketball captain, you pour yourself and Wanda another shot each, cringing as the colourless liquid sloshes down your throat. But the burn is a welcome change from the heartache you feel, knowing you’re in the same room as Ari and her. You dare to peak back at them one more time and hate yourself for doing it because now they’re dancing together, although you can see Ari still looking straight at you while his girlfriend’s back is turned.

“C’mon, let’s dance.” You drag Wanda to the dance floor determinedly.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Little Miss Side Chick.” You hear a deep voice in your ear as two heavy hands land on your hips. Wanda has already busied herself with dancing with a guy you vaguely remember from freshman orientation, so you turn around and come face to face with another basketball player. Tall and rugged, hair buzzed off and tattoos smattered all over his chest and arms. Curtis.

“What do you want?” You sneer, because Curtis is Ari’s best friend. And anyone associated with Ari is an enemy to you.

“Whoa, retract your claws, kitten. I’m not looking for a fight.” Curtis smirks, his hands firmly planted on your hips, swaying you along with him to the upbeat music. His body is practically glued to yours, and you can’t help but inhale his manly scent. It’s some type of aftershave that you don’t recognise, but boy does it smell good.

“Well, I don’t care what you’re looking for!” You raise your chin up at him defiantly, despite the fact that he’s more than a head taller than you. “And you can report that back to Ari, okay? And then you and him can both go to hell–Whoops!” You stumble forward in your high heels and cling to the beefy buzzcut-haired man in front of you to regain your balance. Curtis’ hand travels up to the small of your back as he pulls you closer, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Careful, kitty kat.”

“Don’t call me that!”

“But you let Ari call you whatever he wants.” His lips brush against your ear as he whispers, and you can’t help but cling to him. You feel like a small fish in this gigantic pond of a party, and Curtis feels solid as you teeter in your heels. You see the glint in his eye as he flashes you a smile. “I’ve heard you getting fucked, you know.”

You pout, “That’s really pervy, Curtis.”

“Yeah? I feel like you and Levinson both love an audience. You want a drink, kitten?”

“No!”

“C’mon, you look like you need a drink. I mean, just look at you. Standing in the middle of the dancefloor looking all cute and pouty like a little baby.”

“ ‘m not a baby!”

As if on cue, you pout again. But you let Curtis drag you back to the drinks table, watching in awe as he mixes different things together in a crystal glass he seems to have conjured out of nowhere. Something compels you to look over your shoulder, and you spy Ari from across the room. Sharon’s arms are around his neck but his eyes are still boring holes into you. He’s got a can of beer that he’s currently crushing in his fist, and even in the darkness, you can see his face going red as his lips pull into a sneer.

Oh, he was jealous!

You giggle and give him a wave before pointedly turning back to Curtis and accepting whatever drink he’s just mixed for you.

“A baby drink for a baby like you.” Curtis pulls your cheek condescendingly and you scowl before eyeing the concoction in the glass. It’s a pretty pale pink colour and smells kind of fruity. You look up questioningly at Curtis, who crosses his arms over his chest as he grins like a Cheshire cat. “Go ahead, kitten, it won’t bite. I told you, it’s a baby drink – you wouldn’t even know there’s alcohol in it. Tastes like strawberries and cream.”

“Well… that does sound yummy.” You dip your pinkie finger in the drink and swirl it around, pretending to consider it. Your eyes dart sideways in Ari’s direction once more. And he’s still staring at you, despite the fact that his girlfriend’s all up against him, whispering something in his ear. God, that makes you mad, and you down the drink without a second thought. It goes down your throat easy, with a pleasantly fruity aftertaste. You look up at Curtis and beam.

“You were right! Tasted much better than shots! Could I have another, maybe?” You bat your lashes at him and he smirks. But he makes you another one, and you down it quickly, trying to flush away any thoughts of Ari and Sharon out of your mind. Screw both of them!

“Easy there, kitty kat. It’s a drink, you don’t have to down it like a shot.” Curtis grins, and it’s only when you feel his arm around your waist that you realise you’ve fallen into him again. Whatever he’d put in your drinks seems to already be hitting you, but you don’t care, don’t care, don’t care! And Curtis’ thumb rubbing circles on your hip feel kind of nice, and so you let him hold you as you sway, blinking rapidly as the alcohol mingles into your bloodstream.

“You know, kitten, there’s a bunch of empty rooms upstairs. Maybe we could find one ‘em so you can lie down for a while?” Curtis whispers beguilingly in your ear, his lips brushing against your skin and making you shiver in your tiny dress. He casually plays with the flimsy straps, pushing one down and exposing your shoulder. A second later you feel his lips press against your exposed skin, making your heart jump with thrill. There’s something hard poking against your stomach, and you giggle and bite your lip.

“Don’t think I can get up the stairs, Curtis. Can’t even… Can’t even stand up straight!” He’s supporting most of your body weight as you lean heavily into him, loving the feel of strong, beefy arms around you. It’s dark enough that you can almost imagine they belong to someone else…

“Don’t worry, kitten, I’ll carry you up there. Babies like you are meant to be carried, right? And I want to hear you scream like you did for Levinson in the locker room.”

You barely have a chance to consider his proposition before you feel a heavy hand grab your arm and pull you backwards. You stumble in your high heels before your back collides with a very solid, very sturdy chest.

“She’s off limits, Curtis. You know that.” Ari’s voice is low but firm, and you turn to see the captain of the basketball team glaring daggers at his teammate and best friend, his brows furrowed and lips set in a thin line. His fingers are curled around your upper arm, not showing any signs of letting go as he looms formidably like a giant by your side. Sharon’s nowhere to be found.

“Oh yeah? You finally ready to jump ship from one girl to the next, Ari?” Curtis grins, wholly unperturbed as he pops open a can of beer and takes a long swig.

“Very funny, asshole. Go find someone else to take advantage of.” Ari says wryly, still holding you with an iron grip while you gape at both of them. And a part of you – an admittedly pathetic part of you – is thrilled that Ari’s come over to you now. Clearly, he was affected by you talking to his best friend, and that makes you feel special.

Surprisingly, Curtis backs off easily, slinking off into the party like a panther. The crowd swallows him up, and you watch him go for a moment before the crushing grip gets even tighter. You hear a rumble from Ari’s chest as he mauls you to a dim corner of the room. It’s still packed with people, but he manages to prop you up in a dark spot, his palms slamming against the wall on either side of you, trapping you against it.

“Well, well, well. Look who showed up to the party.” Ari sneers, pressing his considerably larger frame against yours. “And you’re drunk already. Hasn’t anyone told you not to accept drinks from strangers?”

You blink up at him, feeling slower and more sluggish than usual thanks to Curtis’ magic drink in your system. But then his words hit you and you scowl, craning your neck to look up at him despite the fact that you’re in heels.

“Curtis isn’t a stranger, he’s my friend!” (You’ve conveniently forgotten the fact that you’d sworn that any friend of Ari’s was an enemy of yours).

Ari scoffs, “He’s not your friend. You’re not allowed to be friends with boys.”

You stick your chin up at him, “Oh yeah? Says who?”

The huge basketball player drives his pelvis into you with force, his clothed erection rutting against your stomach and making your eyes pop wide open and a gasp dies somewhere in your throat.

He smirks, “Says your daddy.”

Beyond Ari’s broad shoulder, you can see the party commencing in full force. The DJ’s switched to a more R&B centric playlist, and the whole room reverberates with the sounds of heavy bass and sexy crooning lyrics. Couples find each other on the dancefloor, strangers join together like magnets. Swaying and grinding and groping each other in the dark.

You blink several times before refocusing your gaze on Ari, trying not to get lost in his eyes or his smell or just how big and manly he is compared to you. No. You had to stay strong and you had to stay away from him. He was trouble with a capital T, and there was no way you were going to let him get away with cornering you at this party – not after all the lies he’d fed you about breaking up with his girlfriend. Not after he’d strung you along for weeks…

“Fuck off, Ari! You have no right to tell me who I can or can’t be friends with! Now just… Just fuck off and go back to your girlfriend an’ leave me alone!” Your palms land on his chest and you push with all your might. Unsurprisingly, he doesn’t budge an inch. In fact, he yawns pointedly, infuriating you further as you continue to push his huge, muscular body off of you.

“Please. You thrive on my attention, baby. That’s why you’re wearing this slutty dress and flirting with my best friend.” He says matter-of-factly, making your blood boil and your jaw drop open indignantly.

“Don’t want your attention!”

“Babies like you need attention.” Ari tells you, saying each word slowly as if you truly are a dumb baby who doesn’t understand anything. One of his hands meanders upwards, casually twining a piece of your hair around his finger, “Or else you’ll cry and throw a tantrum. And we don’t want the little baby to throw a tantrum, do we?”

You can’t believe his cockiness! Before you know what you’re doing, you punch him straight in the chest. Hard. But Ari just looks down at you bemusedly. In fact, he looks bored, and that infuriates you even more. And on top of everything else, now your hand hurts and you feel your eyes well with tears.

“Aww, did the little baby hurt herself?” Ari teases, patting your cheek condescendingly. You sniffle and try to swat him away but he’s too quick, too strong. You’re helpless, stuck against his big, hard body and the wall behind your back and he knows it as he smirks. “Poor little baby, don’t cry or throw a tantrum. You’ve got my attention now, haven’t you? And that’s what you wanted.”

“No, I didn’t–!”

He cuts you off with a rough kiss, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. Even in your heels, he still has to lift you up so he can kiss you properly without you having to crane your neck too much because of his height. And so he grabs your hips and hoists you up against the wall, your bare legs dangling on either side of him as he consumes you with a kiss that seems riddled in possessiveness. Until you bang your fists on his shoulders enough times for him to pull away.

“How…How dare you kiss me! When your girlfriend’s at the same party!” You accuse, despite the fact that your heart is racing and lips are tingling and you really want him to kiss you again.

Ari shrugs, still looking bored. “She went to the bathroom with a bunch of her girlfriends to fix her makeup or something. And you know how girls are with the bathroom, they’ll stay in there for ages.” He pulls you snug against him, “Gives us a bit of time to have fun, baby.”

“You’re a man-whore, Ari.”

He snorts, “And you’re lucky you still have my attention, baby girl.”

Your jaw drops open, “You’re the one who’s been texting me nonstop since last week!”

“Just so you wouldn’t feel bad.”

You can’t believe him. Huffing, you try to push past him and storm off. Which proves to be impossible considering he’s still got you lifted up against the wall, his leg snug between your thighs. And even if you were in a position to exit the situation, he was way too big and strong and could easily stop you. Ugh. (But not really because that pathetic part of you really is enjoying the attention he’s giving you right now).

“You look so hot tonight, baby girl.” Ari mutters as he starts kissing at you again. First, he tries your lips. But you’re still stubborn, still mad at him and so you turn your head. That’s not a problem for him, his lips pressing down against your cheek, down to your jaw, then your neck. His hands come up to brazenly squeeze your breasts, making you gasp. “This is some dress. Luckily, attention-seeking baby suits you well.”

“Stop callin’ me a baby!”

He gives your ass a hard smack, smirking when you yelp. You thank your lucky stars that it’s too dark and crowded and noisy for anyone around you to notice how indecent he’s being.

“Oh, so you’re a big girl now, huh?”

“Let go of me so I can go have fun with Wanda–” You once more try to elbow him out of the way but of course, he holds you at bay easily.

“Stay put.” He growls, giving your ass another smack. “And answer my question. I asked you if you’re a big girl now.”

You stick your chin up, “Yes, I am.”

The brunet grins wolfishly. And you’re too tipsy to even notice how, but he suddenly conjures up a tiny translucent plastic baggie, waving it in front of your face. Your eyes take a few seconds to focus on the light blue pills sitting inside, shimmering enticingly as the strobe lights land on them. They’ve got designs printed on them, but you’re way too tipsy to decipher what they are.

“If you’re such a big girl, then you’ll have no problem having some of this big girl candy that daddy got specially for you.”

Your heart lurches. Sure, you’re tipsy as hell right now. But you’re certain you know what those pills are… don’t you? And maybe it isn’t the best idea for you to take your first ecstasy pill with only Ari of all people there with you. But what does it matter? When he’s slowly grinding his thigh up between your legs, one of his hands groping all over your body and pressing up your dress?

“I… uh… I dunno, Ari…”

He takes one tablet out before shoving the baggie into his pocket.

“C’mon. Prove you’re a big girl and take one.”

Every sane cell in your body is screaming at you not to, but it seems like you’re not only drunk off alcohol, but also off of his touch and attention.

Ari’s thumb trails across your lower lip, stroking it gently before tipping it open. You watch him, slack-jawed and in awe, as he slowly brings the blue tablet up to his own lips. He holds it between his teeth before he dips his head and catches your lips in a deep kiss, transferring the pill into your mouth. It rests on your tongue for a second before you gather your saliva and swallow it quickly, wanting to prove to him that you were indeed a big girl.

I’ll just let him kiss me for a while and then I’ll leave, you tell yourself, sighing as he peppers butterfly-light kisses all over your neck and shoulder. He pushes the strap of your dress down, much like how Curtis had done earlier. And all you can think about is how good it feels when Ari does it, when he touches you like how no one else could. Not that you’d ever had anyone else – since Ari was your first. And you fear that no one else would ever compare…

Suddenly, the strobe lights seem so bright, so close. The music feels like it’s coming out from inside you, like The Weeknd is literally belting out his sexy lyrics from inside you. The lights hit Ari’s face, making him look so big and bright, shiny like a diamond. And so close, so sexy. God, he’s so sexy… And you feel sexy too, like the sexiest person in this room, in your sexy red dress with this giant of a man in front of you.

“Wanna kiss you, daddy.”

He smirks against the nape of your neck before straightening up, “Kiss me, then.”

You try, but he’s too tall. Fuck, you really want to kiss him all of a sudden.

“Can’t. I’m too small.” But you don’t feel small. Just the opposite, actually. You feel like you’re on top of the world, like you’re the most beautiful, most incredible person in this universe. You wind your arms around his neck, “Lift me up. Wanna kiss you.”

He’s already got you propped up with his knee jammed between your legs, but for once he makes no smart comment. He wraps his huge hands around your waist and lifting you up. And it feels like you’re as high as the empire state building. No, the moon! Your heart’s soaring and so is your head, your body’s buzzing, the music’s switched up to something even more sexy, and that’s when you kiss him.

“Good girl,” he praises against your lips, but all you can focus on is how good it feels to have his lips on yours, how good it feels that his hands are back on your body, touching you everywhere. “You’re such a good little girl, you know that?”

“Better than Sharon?”

“Of course, baby girl. I don’t care about Sharon. Only you.”

Firmly holding you against the wall, he pushes your dress up till the tight material is practically around your waist. And who cares, who cares, who cares?! Not you, not when his hands glide up your bare thighs, spreading them before cupping your pussy through the lace of your panties.

“These are pretty, baby. Did daddy buy you these?”

“No,” you lie. Of course, he’d bought them for you. Ari loved buying you lingerie. Often, he’d have it delivered to your dorm room with a special note telling you to take pictures and send them to him. Sometimes, he’d send other things along with the lingerie. Like once, he’d sent this sex toy – a dildo which was almost as big as his dick. And there was a note too, ordering you to put on the lingerie and facetime him immediately. He’d made you fuck yourself on the dildo repeatedly that night, all while you thanked daddy over and over again for your new toy and lingerie set. All while he sat in the comfort of his own dorm room, smoking a cigarette with a smirk on his face, casually pumping his dick and getting off on your humiliation and total submission. Well, you got off on it too.

Now, it only takes a tug of his wrist and your panties are slipping down your legs. They get caught in your heels and you impatiently shake them off, watching the lace as it lays on the ground. That’s when you feel a rush of air against your bare pussy, now only concealed by the flimsy material of your dress.

“God, Levinson, she looks wasted as fuck!”

You vaguely hear someone say that, but you feel like you are lightyears away from everyone else. As if you and Ari are on your very own planet where only the two of you matter.

As if on cue, Ari presses his clothed crotch against your bare pussy, grinding the denim up and down while you pant in his arms. God, you want him so bad.

“Bad little baby, you got my jeans all wet in the middle of a party.” Ari scolds. But you pay him no heed, instead busying yourself with kissing up his collarbone and smelling his manly cologne, feeling his muscles that ripple through his shirt.

“You’re so big and strong,” you murmur, saying exactly what you’re thinking like you have no filter.

Ari puffs his chest out, “I am, aren’t I? Especially compared to a little baby girl like you.” He drives his crotch against your bare pussy once more, lewdly grinding against you till the denim is soaking wet. And oh, the rough material feels so good against your clit, so good that you don’t even care that he’s dry humping you in the middle of a party with so many people around you.

His hand slips up to grab your hair, and he yanks you up roughly so he can put his lips to your ear, “You’re my little baby princess, aren’t you?”

A shiver runs down your spine. You like the sound of that.

“Y-Yeah, I am!”

“You like how much bigger I am than you?” He licks the shell of your ear.

“Ah – yes!”

“And you’ll do anything I tell you, won’t you? Because you’re just a baby and you need daddy to guide you. Right?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” You rut against him desperately, hoping he’ll carry you up to a bedroom and fuck you hard. It’s not like you’d be able to walk by yourself. Hell, you can’t even stand by yourself right now, which was why he was holding you up like you were a ragdoll. In the midst of a sea of people, but all you can focus on is Ari. And how high you feel, like you’re as light as a feather, as free as a bird who welcomes the cage of his grip.

You watch as he undoes his fly, pulling his hard cock out of his jeans. Your eyes nearly bug out of your head at how brazenly he does it – in a room full of people, no less! But you lick your lips, feeling your pussy clench at how fat and thick his cock looks under the pulsating lights. God, he was so big everywhere!

“So if I tell you that daddy wants to fuck his little girl in front of everyone right now, you’d say yes, wouldn’t you?”

You lick your lips, lust pulsing through every vein in your body. You’re already humping against him like a wanton whore, loving the feel of his bare cock gliding against your slippery slit in a room full of people.

“M-Maybe we can we go upstairs, daddy?”

“No. Here. C’mon, baby, you know you want to.” He nibbles on your ear, “I’ll make you my girlfriend if you do this for me.”

Your heart lifts, your mind feeling euphoric at the idea of that. And you believe him, of course you believe him! How could you not, when you’re feeling so on top of the world right now? Heart beating so fast, blood pumping even faster… And he said he’d make you his girlfriend! Oh, you wanted that so badly! You’d do anything to be his girlfriend, anything at all…

“O-Okay, daddy, I guess you can– AH, FUCK!”

He pistons his dick inside you in one quick movement, holding your hips firmly in place so you don’t fall over from the sheer force of him forcing his fat dick into your tiny, leaking hole. God, he was so big. You’d never get used to it.

“Good baby,” he smirks. There are waves of people around you – an entire crowd of sweaty, writhing bodies. But all you can feel is Ari, his cock so big and imposing yet your pussy swallows him readily as he bottoms out inside you. Grabbing your face, he kisses you possessively, and you can feel his cocky smirk through the kiss, “fuck yeah, just as tight as always. God, I missed my little pussy.”

Being fucked by Ari in the middle of the dancefloor of a frat party, drunk and high off your mind while his girlfriend was somewhere in this house. It wasn’t how you’d planned your night to go at all, but you cling to Ari like a koala, allowing him to control your body and take pleasure from you. You can hear him groaning as he fucks you slowly, trying to cover your body completely with his. You can hear him grimace, mutter how fucking tight you are as he tries to hold back from tearing your pussy apart like how he usually does when the two of you are alone.

“Not such a big girl now, are you?” he mocks, biting at your bottom lip and sucking on it as his dick drives slowly in and out of you. “Getting fucked in the middle of a party because you can’t ever say no to me, huh?”

“Nngh, Ari please. F-Feel so full,” you moan, never wanting him to stop. Maybe you’d regret this later, but right now it’s like you’re in a bubble of pleasure that has you ignoring the real world around you.

“And the fact that you thought you could make me jealous by talking to Curtis,” Ari huffs, giving you a particularly hard thrust that sends you reeling, and you bite down on his shoulder to keep from screaming at the top of your lungs. “What a pathetic little game you played, baby. But I’ll never get jealous, because I already know I own you. And you know it too. I own your fucking pussy.”

“Yes, yes, yes!” You gasp, feeling him so deep inside you, it’s like he’s practically in your womb. You wrap your legs tighter around him, grinding your clit against his hairy abdomen. The sensation feels heavenly, and you’re so, so close…

“Promise me you’ll never fucking speak to Curtis again,” he demands.

“Fuck me harder, daddy–OW!”

He slaps your ass hard, and you reel into him, shocked at the blow. You’d have fallen over if he wasn’t holding you up in his muscular arms.

“Fucking say you’ll never speak to Curtis again,” Ari says through gritted teeth, and his fingers wrap around your throat. Your breath hitches, eyes widening. But your pussy squeezes around his dick at the same time his hand squeezes your throat, “Say it or I’ll choke you the fuck out.”

Fear splices through the euphoria you’re feeling, but his hand constricting around your throat, him controlling your breathing – it turns you on so fucking much at the same time. But his eyes look so dark, darker than you’ve ever seen them. Is it because he’s high too? Or is it something else entirely?

“W-Won’t talk to him,” you promise, barely getting the words out.

Ari smiles and releases your throat, and you desperately gasp for breath. But when he kisses you again, you can’t help but hungrily kiss him back.

“I own you,” he repeats, slipping his hand down to play with your clit, pushing your dress up in the process. You’re high out of your mind and yet you still try to push the hem of your dress back down, only for him to slap your hands away. “Don’t hide this baby pussy from me, sweetheart.”

“E-Everyone can see,” you moan, breath hitching when he pinches your clit harshly before rubbing circles on it.

“Let them watch, baby.”

As if on cue, you hear someone whistle:

“You’re a fucking dog, Levinson! Can’t even wait to find a room to get your dick wet, huh?”

“She looks high off her ass, bro. Classic Levinson.”

Ari only laughs, continuing to fuck you and make out with you in the middle of the party as if it’s the most normal thing in the world to be doing. And if he’s okay with it, then it must be okay, right?

“This is what happens when you come to a party trying to be an attention-seeker,” he tells you, his fingers leaving your clit as he brings them up to his mouth, sucking noisily, “fuck, you taste so good, sweetheart. Your little baby pussy’s been wet for me all night, huh?”

“Yes, daddy,” you say dutifully, meeting his thrusts now as you feel yourself getting close. You continue grinding your clit on his hairy abs as he fucks you, the sensation so heavenly as you teeter on the edge of your orgasm, blabbering out your inner thoughts: “I…I think about you all the time, want you all the time. Wish you were with me all the time….”

“Mm, it gets you all wet, doesn’t it? Fucking a man who’s got a girlfriend?”

You gasp, but your walls clench around him all the same.

“Mm, I felt that, you slutty little baby,” Ari smacks your ass again, rocking his hips hard against you as you cry from the pleasure, “It turns you on that I have a girlfriend and yet I’m here with you, fucking you in front of all these people like you’re my personal fucking whore.”

“Ari, I’m so close, I–”

“Bet you wish she was watching us, huh?” He says suddenly, “I bet that would get you off, wouldn’t it, you dirty little slut?”

“Nooo,” you moan, but you can feel thrills rippling through your body, your pleasure mounting higher and higher as the music drones on all around you.

Ari licks his lips like he’s the devil himself, “Don’t fucking lie to me, sweetheart. I bet you wish Sharon was here, watching me fuck you.” His eyes glint wickedly, “Bet you wish she was getting herself off to us, don’t you? Fingering herself while she watches her boyfriend cheat on her with a slutty little girl like you.”

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Mm, and what would you do? Cry your little baby tears and beg for her forgiveness?” Ari chuckles lowly, and you can’t believe you’re on the brink of orgasm and about to lose it and he’s just there, calm as ever as he fucks you in this room full of people. Forcing his big, fat cock inside you with a smirk on his face as if he owns the whole room. “You’d beg for my girlfriend’s forgiveness while you take my fat fucking cock inside your sexy little pussy. And she’d watch us, watch me call you a bad fucking girl while I fuck you so hard that I’d probably knock you up. And I’ve never fucked her like that, baby. I would never fuck her like that. Only you.”

“Daddy, please,” you sob and sob, clutching at his shirt because you feel so overwhelmed.

He grabs your face roughly, making you look at him.

“And you’d watch her rub her pussy as she watches us fuck, wouldn’t you? And she’d cum all over her fingers, watching her boyfriend fuck the living daylights out of you, watching you be a helpless little slut for your daddy. And you’d love every second of it, baby. Because you’re fucking sick, just like me…”

Your orgasm is earth-shattering, breaking your body apart as you squirt all over his huge fucking dick. And he fucks you through it, coaxing your cream out of you as you cry and cry, any sound you make getting drowned out by the blaring music, any thrashing movement blurred by the dancing bodies around you. Some of them know what’s going on, you know they do. But others don’t, lost in their own world as they dance around the two of you. And waves of searing pleasure overtake your body, over and over again as you grind up against him.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” Ari grunts, “cum on my daddy dick like the good little baby you are. God, fuck, you’re squeezin’ me so good, baby, feels so tight and sexy. Gimme another one.”

You cum again, as if your body is programmed to listen to him, as if just his words can make you orgasm. And that’s when he blows his load, muttering a string of curses as he empties himself inside you. He always came inside you, no matter what. And you guessed that he wasn’t going to stop that streak now, even in the midst of a crowded party. One or two guys are ogling at the two of you, but you’re too fucked out to care, your spent body sagging against Ari’s huge frame as he fills you up with his hot cum.

Everything is blurry for a while after that. You’re on the brink of passing out – not even from the copious amounts of drugs and alcohol in your system, but from how fucked out you feel. But you jolt out of it when Ari pulls out of you, whining needily but he ignores you. Instead, he pulls your dress back down over your ass, and you can feel his hot cum trickling down your thigh.

“How was she, Levinson?” Some guy pipes up from within the crowd.

“Move along, smartass.” Ari glares daggers at the random guy, flipping him off as he shields your body with his bigger one. But there are more guys surrounding you, more people beginning to notice what exactly is going on. Ari seems to catch on to this too, shooting dirty looks all around him as he tries to tug your short dress down even further to cover you more, as if he was fuelled by horniness before but now that he’s come down from that high, he’s hyperaware of everyone around you.

“Can’t feel my legs, daddy,” you lean heavily against him.

He picks you back up, carrying you through the crowd. You can vaguely hear the voices of other boys over the loud, pounding music. Thumping Ari on the back, congratulating him. You hide your face in his chest, trying not to think about what’s just happened. He takes you up the stairs, through random corridors, into an empty bedroom, and finally, a bathroom.

“Fuck, baby, you okay?” He asks after setting you down on the sink.

“I’m good,” you grab at him, trying to wrap your legs around him and pull him into you. You can still feel the effects of the little blue pill, and you try to kiss him but he pulls away, chuckling.

“We need to clean you up.”

Funny. He never cleaned you up before. In the past, he’d always fuck you hard and good and then leave you to get yourself together while he typed away on his phone or went outside to smoke. Then, he’d either come back inside to fuck you again, or he’d give you a quick kiss and leave, telling you he was late for practice or something along those lines. But right now, it looks like he was sticking around, and that makes your heart skip a beat.

“I can’t believe I just let you fuck me in front of everyone. It almost doesn’t feel real!” You muse out loud, wondering maybe it was all just a dream, because you feel so hazy and warm. You swing your heel clad feet, accidentally catching him in the stomach. He shoots you a warning look, grabbing your calves to still you before his expression relaxes.

“It’s what you deserved for ignoring my texts.” He smirks before grabbing a wad of toilet paper. He wets some of it under the tap and swipes at your thighs, cleaning his cum off you. You bite your lip, watching his tanned biceps ripple as he gets dangerously close to your pussy. You grab his wrist, pushing it between your legs.

“I think you missed a spot, daddy,” you say in what you hope is a demure and sexy manner.

Ari groans, “Don’t tempt me, baby girl.”

He feels around your folds, licking his lips as he plays with the mess he’s left in your pussy. But you whine after a while, clearly too sensitive for round two so you push his hand away.

“Lemme feel you,” he persists.

“Nuh uh, too sensitive.”

He rolls his eyes and you giggle, reaching out to smooth his long hair, twining a few strands around your finger. You stay like that for a while, liking how he looks at you in the privacy of this bathroom, where the music from outside is still thumping softly and yet it feels like the two of you are in your own bubble. Where the dull orange light makes him look double handsome, and it’s just the two of you and you can pretend he’s your boyfriend and you’re a happy couple and it’s the best feeling in the world.

Until Ari’s hand slips down between your legs again.

“Hey!” You squeal, batting him off, but he doesn’t relent.

“Let daddy feel you one more time, baby girl,” he tries to sweet talk you, but you shake your head, pushing him away again. That’s when he gets a glint in his eye, digging his fingers into your ribs instead. You squeal as he tickles you, and you try to do it back but clearly, he isn’t as ticklish as you because he just shoots you an amused look. You laugh and laugh, till you can’t breathe and even he chuckles, his face pink.

“Ari, will I be your girlfriend now?” You ask in a small voice once you’ve stopped laughing.

A pause. And then he sighs.

“Baby, we already have a good thing going–”

“So then why can’t we go out on dates and do all the romantic things that boyfriends and girlfriends do?” Your lower lip wobbles but you will yourself to remain calm and collected.

“You know why.” Ari avoids your gaze, backing up and gathering all the toilet paper he’s just used. He stuffs it into the bin before washing his hands, and the whole time you look at him, waiting for him to elaborate except he says nothing more.

“B-But I let you fuck me in front of everyone,” you scrunch your eyes shut to keep your tears at bay, “I let you do anything to me, Ari. And you keep telling me that you’ll make me your girlfriend but it never happens. An’ I trust you more than anything even though you keep lying to me, and–”

He clears his throat, running his hands through his hair before he reaches out as if to cup your face. But at the last second he holds back, fists curled to his sides. “Don’t do this right now. Look, I’ll get you some water to sober you up, then you can call your friend Carla–”

“Her name is Wanda.”

“Call your friend Wanda, and maybe she can take you home. You’re completely wasted.” He can’t help but reach out, fixing the strap of your dress which you hadn’t even noticed had slipped down your shoulder. God, you were a mess. A complete and utter mess and he’d used you again and now he wanted nothing to do with you. His fingers linger, brushing against your bare shoulder before he snatches his hand back and clears his throat once more.

“Is it because I’m not good enough?” A lone tear drips down your cheek. And it’s crazy because not even a minute ago you were laughing your ass off.

“No–”

“Then why does it feel like you’re using me?”

No one speaks for several seconds. All you can hear is your own breathing, how you hiccup every now and then. How your head is beginning to pound and how all your emotion seem amplified. You know it’s because you’re drunk, and yet you’re hoping you may get something sincere from him in this bathroom right now…

But Ari only shakes his head, keeping his eyes trained somewhere beyond your shoulder, as if he can’t seem to look you in the eye…

“Now’s not the time to talk about this–”

“You lie to me all the time, Ari, and you always take me for granted. An’ I fall for it every time because I wanna be your girlfriend so bad…” Your voice falters, lip curling and tears welling in your eyes, “I really, really like you, Ari. Don’t you like me too? Enough to make me your girlfriend?”

“I already have a girlfriend…” He blurts out.

His words hit you like shards of glass, piercing you from the inside out. You feel like you’re falling, and even Ari looks guilty, as if he can’t believe he’s just said that so abruptly. He’s always come up with a story when it comes to his relationship; “we broke up,” or “we’re having problems,” or “she’s a bitch, I don’t care about her.” But it seems like now, he’s really just laying it all out on the table. She’s his girlfriend. And she always would be.

You bow your head, feeling like a veil’s lifted somewhere between the two of you. “I guess that just makes me the girl you keep around for easy sex.”

“You know it’s more than that, baby–”

His phone rings at that exact moment, cutting him off. But he looks relieved to be interrupted, and hastily fishes it out of his pocket. You sigh, staring down dejectedly into your lap. He keeps his voice low as he talks on the phone, but you catch a few words here and there, like “Sharon,” and “she’s looking for you.”

“Baby, I gotta go. But I want you to stay in here until you’re sober enough to go find your friend.” Ari says, shoving his phone back into his pocket.

“Y-You’re leaving?”

A pause.

“Yes.”

Another tear trickles down your cheek.

“Please stay with me. I don’t wanna be alone right now.” He’s left you after sex many times before, but this time feels different. You feel vulnerable, small, afraid. Little you in this big party where you’d only feel safe if you were with him. God, it felt so special whenever it was just you and him alone together. Like right now, in the bathroom, where he’d carried you up in his arms, cleaned you himself and laughed while he tickled you. Oh, it felt so special to you! Could he not feel that too? Why did he want to leave?

Ari inhales deeply, “Don’t, okay? You know I can’t stay. Sharon… She’s making a scene. She’s really drunk, people are starting to notice I’m not there with her–”

“I’m really drunk too.” And high.

He pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, “That’s why you’re getting so emotional, okay? Just… Just call Wanda. Or one of your other friends.”

His words sting, and you know you should just back off. Let him do whatever the fuck he wants to do since clearly all he wanted was to get away from you. But neediness and sorrow clouds your brain and covers your heart, and in a last ditch effort, you reach out to grab his hand.

“Please stay,” you beg, and you feel like you’ve swallowed your pride but you don’t even care anymore, “Please, Ari. Y-You don’t have to make me your girlfriend, okay? I’m sorry I brought it up. Please, just stay with me. Don’t leave me alone, please, please, please–”

“Stop,” he says gently, peeling your hand off of his, “don’t make this bigger than it is. We hooked up like we always do, but I need to go now, okay? I’ll text you later.”

He backs away, pausing at the door. Hope fills your heart, and you wait with bated breath. But then he leaves, walking out casually like all he’s done is use the bathroom. And you sit there, his rejection like poison in your veins. Frozen, drunk, sad, dejected. Oh God, had you really expected him to stay? To be different this time? How many more times were you going to let him lie to you, disrespect you, embarrass you, play you?

How many more times till he broke you completely?

***

“C’mon, Wanda, pick the fuck up.” You mutter, jabbing at your phone in annoyance. The screen freezes for several seconds, before your call goes to her voice message. For the fourth time in a row. You bite your lip, daring to check your battery. Five percent. Great. Just Great.

After Ari had left you in the bathroom, all you’d wanted to do was curl up in the bathtub and cry the whole night away. And that’s what you’d been doing for at least an hour, until some horny couple barged in and started having sex against the sink. You’drun out of there in a hurry, and now here you were at the front of the frat house, wanting nothing more than to go home.

“Where the hell are you, Wanda?” You murmur, calling her again and praying to God your phone battery lasts until you find her. You were still drunk and not exactly capable of combing through the crowd of people in search of your friend. When she doesn’t pick up again, you feel a helplessness take over your body, like it had back in the bathroom. All you want to do is collapse down on the grass and cry like a baby, but you will yourself to persevere before you try calling her again.

“Excuse me, sweetheart. Are you okay?”

The voice is deep and rumbling, with an undertone of amusement. You don’t even bother looking up from your phone, your eyes too busy staring down your battery percentage as it lowers down to three percent.

“I’m fine,” you say distractedly, trying to walk further away from the frat house in hopes of getting better signal. “I’m just trying to call my friend so we can go ho–”

Your heel catches against a rock on the grass, sending you flying. You brace yourself for the fall but it never comes. Instead, you feel two strong arms wrap around your waist, catching you and pulling you back till you collide against a hard chest.

“Careful, baby,” the amused voice murmurs in your ear.

“Oh, um, thank you, uh–” You straighten up and turn around to face the stranger who’d saved you, finding yourself face to face with a built looking chest wearing an off-white t-shirt and varsity jacket. You crane your neck upwards, breath catching in your throat at what you see.

The stranger is tall and blonde, his pale skin shimmering in the moonlight (probably because you’re drunk because that’s what it looked like). His muscles ripple under his shirt, and he runs his hand through his hair in a way that’s all too familiar. His blue eyes sparkle as he smiles down at you, his arms still around your waist as if to hold you steady.

“Wow,” you say dumbly. He was handsome!

He smirks down at you, “Sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t quite catch that?” He had an effortless way of speaking, like a relaxed drawl as if he was far removed from all the craziness of the party going on around him.

“I – uh – I said thanks,” you babble, “thanks for saving me.”

“You’re welcome. What’s your name?”

You tell him, trying to keep your words from slurring because of the damned alcohol still pumping in your system. You’re acutely aware of his arms still around you, and the fact that your heart is beating fast and hard as you look up at him almost in awe. In your inebriated state, his pale colouring made it look like there was a halo around him (either that or a streetlight was shining directly at him), but it made him look almost angelically handsome.

“I’m Steve.” He says, confidently reaching out to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, “What’s a cute little thing like you doing out by yourself so late at night?”

You stick your chin up indignantly, “Not by myself! I’m looking for Wanda!”

“Who’s that, sweetheart?”

“My best friend.”

“Well, she isn’t much of a best friend if she left you all alone at this party, is she?”

Steve cocks his head to the side, a crooked smile on his face that’s so attractive it makes you swoon inwardly, despite what he was implying.

“She didn’t leave me, Steve! She’s just…” you helplessly scan through the groups of people that have spilled out into the front yard of the frat house, “she’s around here somewhere…” Your eyes suddenly snap back over to the blonde, suspicion overtaking you. Who exactly was this guy, and where had he just appeared from, looking all handsome and angelic?

“Do you…uh…do you go to St. Andrews’ too?” You hardly know everyone on campus, seeing as your college is massive and there’s way too many people that go there. But you’re sure you’d remember seeing someone as handsome as him.

“Nope, I go to St. Jude’s.”

Oh. The enemy college. At least according to Ari (who was the main source of most of your information since he knew everything). Ari hated St Jude’s’ basketball team, as they were the main rivals of his own basketball team. You weren’t much into sports or any of that (you only attended Ari’s basketball games to look cute and get his attention), but you suddenly recognise St. Jude’s distinctive blue and white coloured varsity jacket that Steve has on. It resembles Ari’s varsity jacket – which is red and gold for St. Andrew’s.

“What’re you doing here, then?” You ask.

Steve shrugs, “Me and my buddies come to your parties every now and then…” he nods at two other guys in similar varsity jackets. They stand across the lawn from the two of you, talking to a bunch of girls. You look at them for a few seconds before Steve clears his throat, as if he wants you to look at him and him only.

“I think the real question is, sweetheart, what are you doing here?”

You frown, “What do you mean?”

“What’s a baby like you doing all alone at a frat house this late?” His thumb strokes your bare arm, his other hand still firm on your waist. “You’re too cute and innocent for a party like this, the frat boys will eat you alive.”

His eyes glint as he says it, but you presume that’s just you imagining things because you’re drunk.

“Well actually, I’m not a baby and I wasn’t alone,” you try not to hyper-focus on his thumb circling against your skin, “I was with Wanda, and then I was with Ari, and then–”

Steve’s grip tightens, “Ari?”

“Yeah, Ari. He’s my boyfr– Well no, actually he’s my nothing. He’s no one…” you sigh sadly, “I’m no one to him and he’s no one to me…He made that pretty clear tonight.”

The blonde whistles lowly, his hand still rubbing soothingly up and down your arm. And you kind of don’t want him to stop, because he feels so warm and he’s making you feel warm and it’s making you hurt a teensy bit less.

“A pretty little girl like you doesn’t deserve to get her heart broken like that,” Steve comments, “and you don’t deserve to be left alone to cry by yourself either.”

“W-Wasn’t crying!” you lie. God, he was making you sound so pathetic.

He weaves you through the crowd, his grip on you tight as he walks you over to a more secluded area of the front yard. With less people around, his arms catch around your waist and he yanks you closer to him, till you’re flush against his chest, your eyes wide as you look up at him and swallow hard.

“My point still stands,” he says, his voice so confident and velvety smooth. “Now, if you were my girl, you wouldn’t even be allowed to step foot inside a party like this, let alone be left unattended.”

A thrill ripples down your spine, but you barely have time to acknowledge it before you feel a rough grip on your wrist, yanking you away from Steve with heavy force.

“What the hell is this?!” Ari growls, pushing you behind his own body before he squares up to Steve. You gape over at both men, looking from one to the other. Ari was the biggest guy you knew, but Steve matched him in both height and stature. Head-to-head, the two men stare the other down, almost as if they already know each other. Side by side, you notice they look kind of similar. Both of them were tall and bulky, with vivid blue eyes. But Steve was angelically blonde and pale, and Ari was tanner, rougher, darker. Steve looked calm, unperturbed by the interruption – but Ari looked pissed off beyond belief.

“What are you doing here, Rogers?” He seethes.

Steve smirks, “I wasn’t aware that you owned this frat house, Ari.”

“Cut the bullshit. You know you’re not welcome here. Just because your own college parties are filled with ugly sluts doesn’t mean you have to come to mine.”

“Yours? And who exactly put you in charge?”

Steve steps closer as if to challenge Ari, but Ari just glowers at him before shaking his head.

“Do whatever the fuck you want, Steve. But she’s off limits. Everyone here knows she’s mine.” Ari’s still got your wrist in a death-grip, and you wince in pain when he squeezes even tighter.

“Lemme go, Ari!” You try to fight against his hold but to no avail.

The blonde snorts, “Oh yeah, it really looks like she’s yours, Levinson.”

“Fuck off.”

“I know what your girlfriend looks like, asshole. I know it’s not her.” Steve’s still got that smirk on his face, and you can see Ari’s face going redder and redder. God, he was really getting to him! And they did in fact know each other!

Ari pointedly turns his back to Steve as if to shut him out of the conversation. Instead, he looks at you. “Baby, why are you still here? It’s getting really late, let me call you an Uber.”

Baby? Was he serious? After he’d left you alone in the bathroom even after you’d begged and pleaded with him to stay with you?!

You feel a surge of anger, “No! Don’t want you to call me anything, Ari! Just leave me alone, I can get home by myself.”

He frowns, “You’re still drunk. I’m gonna call you a–”

“Where’s Sharon, Levinson?” Steve pipes up from behind in an amused tone, as if this is all an evening’s worth of entertainment to him. “That’s her name, right? Your actual girlfriend?”

Ari whips around with lightning speed. Your heart jumps to your throat as the brunet lunges forward, grabbing Steve by the collar and getting all up in his face, “If you don’t shut the fuck up–”

“Or what, huh, Levinson?”

The brunet lowers his voice, “You know damn well I can beat your ass off court just as much as I can in court.”

Steve scoffs, “You beat my team, not me.”

Oh, so Steve was a basketball player too. He and Ari had played against each other.

Ari barks out a laugh, “Oh yeah, I forgot you got benched in the last game. Can’t seem to keep that temper in check, can you?”

The blonde shrugs, “I don’t know, Levinson. Seems like you’re the one who’s getting all worked up right now.”

“Go to hell, asshole–”

“BABY, THERE YOU ARE!”

Sharon stumbles up to where the three of you are standing, her dress riding high, heels in her hand and hair a mess. She’s even drunker than you are, and yet she still looks beautiful – in a dishevelled sort of way. Like Serena Van Der Woodsen, with her blonde hair so perfectly tangled. She looks tall and somehow still graceful despite how she all but falls on top of Ari, who lets go of Steve’s collar as he holds her up.

“Thought I lost you again,” she giggles, planting her lips on his. You blanch and look away, feeling like someone’s put your heart in a shredder. You almost don’t notice Steve grabbing you around the waist and pulling you back into him. Sharon continues to kiss Ari, making out with him except he keeps turning his head – but she’s too drunk to notice. “Babe, could you please take me home? I’m tired.”

Ari grimaces, “Sure. Why don’t you go wait by the car and I’ll be over when I’m ready?”

Sharon blinks, “What car?”

“My car.”

“What does it look like?”

Ari groans. Steve laughs. Sharon looks confused. And you hope the ground would swallow you whole so you wouldn’t have to witness the happy couple together right in front of your face.

“Sharon, just go wait somewhere else while I–”

“Are you guys a couple?” Sharon cuts him off, finally acknowledging you and Steve. “You look totally cute together if you are.”

“They’re not a couple.” Ari seethes, his blue eyes narrowing at Steve’s hands on your waist. “Let go of her, asshole.” he says quietly (not that Sharon would have even noticed). Steve ignores his, pretending he didn’t hear him.

“I, uh, I have to go,” you mumble, unable to stand being in their presence even a second longer. Sharon’s gone back to sloppily kissing up Ari’s jaw, and you just can’t take it. His words from earlier keep ringing through your ears: “I already have a girlfriend,” “I already have a girlfriend,” “I already have a girlfriend.”

You take your phone out, ready to call an Uber and be done with this night. You’d go home and charge your phone and try to reach Wanda from there. But just as you’re about to type in your address on the app, your screen goes black. Dead. Great. Fucking great.

“Oh no,” you whisper softly in dismay.

Ari’s already got his own phone out, typing away and presumably calling you an Uber whilst simultaneously trying to keep Sharon upright and at bay.

“I’ll take you home.” Steve volunteers.

“The hell you will,” Ari sneers, “Back the fuck off, Rogers, I’m calling her an Uber.” He looks like he wants to say more, his gaze still locked on the way Steve is holding you. But he can’t, of course he can’t… not with her here.

“Babe, I don’t feel well,” Sharon moans suddenly. Her face looks slightly green, and she’s stopped kissing Ari now.

“Just give me a second,” He tells her distractedly.

“Maybe you should worry about getting your own girlfriend home first, Levinson.” Steve says smugly before turning to you, “C’mon, let’s go.”

Ari’s eyes fix on yours, “Don’t go with him.”

You almost do obey. Because you always obey Ari. He’s told you in the past, warned you that you always have to do what he says because he’s your daddy and he’s in charge. But… But what about how you’d begged him to stay earlier, and he hadn’t? Now was your chance to do the same thing to him, give him a taste of his own medicine. That, and you also can’t stand to be in close vicinity of him and Sharon right now, or else you’d burst into tears again.

Pointedly avoiding Ari’s gaze, you look up at Steve instead, “O-Okay. Let’s go.”

The blonde tugs you along with him, and you purposely drown Ari out as Steve leads you away. And part of you wants Ari to follow, to push Sharon away and come after you, rip you out of Steve’s grip and take you home himself. But he doesn’t, of course he doesn’t. You don’t dare look back, knowing the happy couple is probably making out again, and you’ve already been forgotten.

“He’s such an asshole!” You burst out, “I hate him, I hate him, I hate him!”

Steve chuckles, “He’s an asshole, alright.”

“He really is! Hate how he treats me, an’ how I keep giving him chances. He just hurts me again and again and again and–”

“Let’s get you home, baby,” the blonde interrupts, getting his phone out.

You wait a handful of seconds, swaying in your heels but liking how he’s got his hand firmly on your lower back to keep you steady. You look up at him expectantly, “Well, aren’t you gonna ask for my address?”

“What?”

“My address, silly! How else am I gonna get home?”

He blinks, before slowly handing you his phone. You miss the glint in his eye, however, and how his lip curls up subtly in… disappointment? “Oh yeah. How stupid of me to forget.”

You type your address in on his Uber app and click accept before beaming up at him, “Thank you so much, Steve. It really means a lot to me, I honestly don’t know how else I would’ve got home! But don’t worry, I’ll pay you back! We’ll split the cost in half, and–”

He presses his finger to your lips, effectively shushing you before he shoots you that charming lop-sided smile of his, making your insides melt. “You don’t need to pay me back, sweetheart. What kind of a guy would I be if I took money from a little baby like you?”

You blink, feeling an extreme sense of dejavu. He sounded exactly like… Ari. Ari never let you pay for anything ever. Well, Ari never really took you out anywhere in public, but the two of you would always order takeout whenever he came over to your dorm room. And he’d never skimp out either, ordering from fancy places like Nobu because he said you were his baby and he wanted the best for you. And whenever you tried to pay your share, he’d just snort and push your hand away, “What kind of a guy would I be if I took money from a helpless little baby like you?”

The reminder of Ari has a ton of different emotions washing over you all over again. Sadness, jealousy, anger…. You shake your poor drunken, muddled head, “Oh, I hate Ari so much, Steve! He’s heartless, and he–”

You’re still going on and on by the time the Uber arrives. And you’re so into your tirade, that you don’t even notice Steve’s arms going around you again, holding you tight against him as if he owns you. You don’t notice how his hands wander, how he rubs the bare skin of your arms, the small of your back, going lower and lower. His fingers playing with the short hem of your dress…

You do notice him slip cash into the driver’s hand… Probably the tip, you presume, too drunk to care.

Your mind wanders to Ari again during the ride home. You sit in the backseat with Steve, staring out the window gloomily as you think about how he broke your heart. Oh, how could you have been so stupid? So gullible? So innocent? You’d never let anyone take advantage of you like that again…

“You okay?” Steve asks, pressing his hand on your thigh.

You nod, “Yeah, I’m just thinkin’ about how much I hate Ari, and–”

“Sweetheart?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been listening to you complain about Ari for the past ten minutes straight. Don’t mention him again.”

He says it softly, calmly, and yet you shut your mouth and straighten up. Despite being drunk, you can detect the seriousness of his tone, and a hint of a threat too. Which you’re probably imagining because why would Steve threaten you? He was so sweet! Wasn’t he?

“I’m sorry, Steve,” you say softly, relaxing once he shoots you a smile.

The drive continues, and Steve’s hand remains on your bare thigh, squeezing every now and again. You don’t mind, his touch helping you feel grounded. You’re still so drunk and probably high too, from that damned stupid pill Ari had given you. No, no, no! You scrunch your eyes shut, willing yourself not to think about him.

“Baby, why don’t you come sit on my lap?” Steve says suddenly.

You whip your head in his direction, “Wh-What?”

“The Uber driver just told me the backseat is really dirty, and you’re in a dress, so I think you’d better sit on me.”

You glance at the driver, who looks straight ahead at the road, not batting an eye or saying a single word. You’re too drunk to argue, and so you just nod. Steve grabs you by the waist, easily lifting you up and placing you on his lap. You can’t help but welcome his warmth, shivering in your skimpy little dress as you wiggle around, trying to get comfortable. He notices, immediately shrugging off his varsity jacket and draping it over your shoulders.

“There. Nice and warm now?”

You smile up at him gratefully, “Yeah! Thanks so much, Steve!” You try not to ogle at his biceps.

“You look cute in my jacket,” Steve chucks you under the chin, “It’s huge on you.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re huge,” you blurt out, before your eyes widen.

“And you’re just tiny.” He quips, pulling you closer.

This was weird, right? You’d only just met him a mere twenty minutes ago, and now you were already in a car with him? In his lap, no less? But you could trust Steve, right? He was nice enough to give you a lift home when he didn’t even know you, and he didn’t want you to touch the dirty backseat either. And he’d given you his jacket so you’d stay warm. All of those looked like green flags to you. Unlike dumb stupid Ari, who was one red flag after another!

The car hits a snag on the road, causing you to bounce inadvertently in his lap. Steve groans as if he’s in pain, and you shoot him an apologetic look.

“Sorry, Stevie. That was an accident.”

He smirks, “Stevie?”

Heat spreads across your cheeks, unaware that you’ve said it out loud… But it’s a cute nickname nonetheless, and so you just shrug awkwardly, a sheepish smile on your face.

Steve’s hand rubs up and down your back soothingly, “It’s a long way till your house, baby. Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

You nod, “Well, I’m a freshman at St. Andrews’ College, and…and…” your voice drifts off as you notice how close you are to him, how you can see the freckles and beauty marks on his face, how deep his blue eyes are up close. So much like Ari’s…

Steve licks his lips, “How does a little freshman like you get mixed up with an asshole like Ari Levinson?”

Oh God, where do you even begin? Instead, you shake your head, “I-I thought I wasn’t allowed to mention Ari again?”

“You’re right,” Steve’s eyes twinkle, and he brushes a piece of your hair behind your ear, “You take instructions well, sweetheart, that makes you a good girl.”

You glow at the praise, before the car hits another snag on the road – this time a much bigger one. You bounce on Steve’s lap again, biting your lip when you feel the rough material of his jeans graze against you down there. And that’s when you come to a horrific realisation.

You’re not wearing any panties.

Your mind flashes back to earlier in the night. Ari fucking you in the middle of the dancefloor. Lifting your dress up. Your panties slipping down your legs. You stepping out of them, the lacy thong lying on the floor. That was the last you’d seen it…

You gulp, looking down at Steve’s lap slowly. No, no, no. Oh no… There it is, plain as day… A wet stain on his jeans, directly beneath you. You hear a low groan, and you know he’s seen it too.

“Oh my gosh, Steve, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I–”

“It’s okay,” he breathes, his voice throaty as he grips your hips to hold you in place, “Maybe you should move…”

“Yes, of course, sorry, I’ll just…” You hastily try to get off his lap, but he holds on tight, not allowing you to budge.

“No, baby girl. I mean move like this.” With fluid confidence, he guides your hips over thick, jean-clad thigh. You gasp breathily, hands shaking as they automatically grip his shoulders. Your bare cunt grazes against the rough denim, pleasurable sensations thrumming through your body. Oh God, what were you doing? You glance fearfully at the driver, but he seems to be in his own world, carefully ignoring the two of you from the driver’s seat.

“Stevie, we shouldn’t–”

“Shhh, move again,” he orders, his thumb circling your hip through the thin material of your dress.

“B-But we just met, this isn’t right, we–” But he shushes you again by moving your hips for you. And his hands are so big, gripping you so tight as he moves you over his muscular leg, your cunt catching against the jean material again and making your whole body convulse. You automatically grab at his broad shoulders, feeling overwhelmed and confused yet horny and needy all at once.

Ari wouldn’t like this, your inner voice warns.

“I thought you took instructions well, baby doll.” Steve whispers enticingly in your ear, hands rubbing soothingly up and down your back as if to cajole you into doing what he wanted. “C’mon, move again like how I told you to.”

Your body obeys as if you’ve been wired to, and maybe it’s because you like listening to people or maybe it’s because you’re just plain horny. Either because of Ari’s damned ecstasy pill or because Steve is so handsome and hot and his body is so big and muscular and warm. Oh, you don’t know! But you do roll your hips down against his lap, eyes widening at how good it feels as you both gasp in unison.

“That’s a good girl,” Steve praises, giving you a sweet smile. And you’re so close to him, and he’s so handsome, and his lashes are so long and thick, his jaw so defined, his freckles so pretty…

“You’re so pretty!” You blurt out.

Steve snorts, “And you’re still so fucking drunk.”

“Wha–?”

“Nothing. Move again.” But this time he picks you up, repositioning you so that you’re face to face with him and straddling his crotch, and oh my! He was so hard, so, so hard! You could feel his dick poking through the denim, rubbing against your wet folds! What was even happening right now?! “Baby, this feels good huh? Moving against me like this?”

“Uh… y-yeah, I guess it does.” You answer shyly.

“Good. Then I won’t have to repeat myself after this one last time. Move. Again.” Quick as a wink, his hand leaves your hip, thick fingers curling around your throat instead. He speaks softly yet with authority and a hint of menace, blue eyes almost magically unblinking as he stares you down, “Rub your little baby cunt all over my jeans. You might as well, since you’ve already made a mess.”

SMACK.

You squeak before your jaw drops open. Had he just spanked you? Once more, you look to the driver in the front, but he seems to be determinedly ignoring whatever was going on in the backseat.

Almost as if he’d been paid to do so…

You start to move your hips, letting Steve guide you as you grind down on his clothed crotch. And fuck, it feels heavenly. Your poor clit is throbbing, so needy and desperate as you seek your pleasure, holding on to Steve’s sturdy shoulders.

“Fuck yeah, you’re such a cute little slut aren’t you?” Steve hums into your neck, his teeth grazing against your bare skin, “can’t believe a sweet little angel with a snatch as tight and sexy as yours landed right in my lap. Well, I stole you right from under Levinson’s nose, but that’s not important right now, is it?” He slaps your ass again, his other hand still wrapped around your neck. Not squeezing, just holding it, “Move harder, baby. I’m already letting you use me for your pleasure, so you better do as I say.”

“O-Okay, Stevie,” you pant, not really hearing what he’s saying because the delicious friction is too much for you to handle.

He nips at the nape of your neck, that now familiar glint in his eye, “Call me daddy, sweetheart.”

You gape at him. But you only ever called Ari daddy!

His fingers squeeze around your neck, making it exponentially harder for you to breathe. “Did you hear what I said?” He asks smoothly.

“Y-Yeah,” you barely get the word out.

“Then say it. Say it or I’ll choke you the fuck out.”

“Daddy!” You squeak as he loosens his grip, gulping for air, “D-Daddy, please!”

He smirks, leaning back against the seat as he watches you ride his crotch. You can’t stop now, it feels too good, too sexy. An yet it also almost feels like you’re doing something wrong, like you’re betraying Ari… Except you’re not, you’re not, you’re not! Because Ari already had a girlfriend and it wasn’t you!

“You’re enjoying yourself, aren’t you? Dry humping your little baby pussy on a guy you’ve just met?” Steve grabs the back of your neck and yanks you forward, till his plump pink lips ghost against yours, “You this slutty for all the frat boys, sweetie?”

You shake your head desperately, “N-No, promise I’m not! I’ve only ever been with one guy, ah!” Your poor pussy feels like it’s been rubbed raw, and yet you can’t stop. Your hips are both moving off their own accord, and Steve’s still moving your body lazily on top of his, the fat outline of his dick protruding through his jeans, a wet spot of your juices on top of his crotch. “W-Well, actually, now I’ve been with two, but–oh fuck!”

You whimper pathetically as Steve suddenly bites down on your neck, sucking against the sensitive skin till it breaks. He peppers the broken skin with kisses, and it hurts yet it feels so good. You find your hand slipping up to grab at his short hair, and instinctively you’d been expecting Ari’s long tufts because that was all you were used to. But all you can think about is Steve right now, and how good his huge body feels underneath you as you grind against it.

“And does it feel good, baby? Humping up against a stranger like you’re in heat?” He licks the shell of your ear lewdly, shivers running down your spine before he suddenly thrusts upwards, catching you off-guard. Your pussy clenches, lust pumping through your veins at his words. “Innocent little baby, only ever been with two guys and yet you’re dry humping me like you’re being paid to do it.”

He laughs wickedly, and how could he still look so angelic? The moonlight shines on his face through the window of the car, and one second he’s looking down at you mockingly, before his face morphs into one of lust and want, and he lets out a soft gasp as he grinds up against you. “Fuck, you’re doing so good, baby. Making daddy feel so fuckin’ good, aren’t you?”

“Y-Yeah, daddy, oh fuck, you feel so big,” you whimper with abandon.

Steve snorts, “I’m bigger than you could handle, sweet girl. Your cute little baby pussy would probably start crying if I tried to put my dick inside you right now.”

His dirty talk makes you moan, and you can feel yourself growing more excited. That’s when he starts to fondle you, his hands everywhere on your body, squeezing and rubbing your tits through the thin material of your dress. “God, you’re just a baby, aren’t you?”

“N-No,” you pant, only to earn another smack to your ass.

“Don’t fucking disagree with me,” he hisses, blue eyes blazing before his smirk returns, “You’re a little fuckin’ baby who’s known me all of two seconds and yet you’re horny for my daddy dick, aren’t you? I said, aren’t you?”

“Yes, okay?! Yes!” You cry out, your folds so insanely sensitive from rubbing and rubbing against him, and yet you’re so close. But was it just you, or had Steve’s demeanour changed. Back at the party, he was charming, funny, helpful. And now? Oh, he was still charming, and so devastatingly handsome. But there was a darkness to his angelic quality… Either that or you were imagining things.

“What if I pushed you down and made you ride my fuckin’ shoe instead?” He asks, that devilish glint ever-present in his blue eyes which were dark with lust, “You’d do it, wouldn’t you? You’d do anything to cum.”

“Daddy, ‘m so close!” you whine like a baby, clutching his shirt hard in case he did push you to the floor. You didn’t want that at all, and you blink up at him with wide eyes, “D-Don’t push me down, daddy, please! Promise I’ll be good an’ I’ll listen to you! Wanna stay in your lap, please!”

He blinks down at you, chiselled face softening some as he cups your face, his other hand still guiding you as you ride his thigh, “Fuck, you’re cute, aren’t you?”

But then his expression darkens once more, and he reaches down, grabbing the flimsy fabric of your dress. There’s a loud tearing sound and you gasp, jaw dropping as he rips the lower part of your dress clean in half. He smiles, “Keep going, baby. Daddy just wanted to see you better. And look at your baby pussy, look how cute and puffy she is. Bet you’re sore down there, huh?”

“Y-Yeah, but don’t wanna stop! So close!”

He runs his tongue over his plump lips, “I bet you are.”

Reaching down, he makes you gasp out loud when his fingers spread your sopping folds, and fuck, his jeans feel so fucking good now, so much better, so much rougher, oh god, oh god, oh god… And that’s when he takes complete control, grabbing your hips harder and moving you on top of him like you’re a doll. Like you’re his personal fucktoy, and he’s using you for his pleasure as he moves you back and forth on his dick, dragging you up and down on his clothed crotch while he whispers dirtily in your ear.

But it’s when he squeezes your throat again, that you feel your pussy clench doubly hard.

“You like that, huh? Like when daddy gets rough?” Steve chuckles darkly, before squeezing harder. Till he’s well and truly choking you, and you can feel your airway close up, and you well and truly can’t breathe, and it’s agony but it’s so delicious, and he’s dragging you all over his crotch, rutting up against you as you scramble on top of him, and you can’t breathe and you’re about to black out and, and, and…

You come hard, squirting all over his crotch which was already wet from your juices. And your cream keeps on pouring out, your orgasm hitting you so hard. And that’s when he releases your throat, like he’s given you the ability to breathe as a reward for cumming, and he rubs your back soothingly as you sob and squeak in pleasure, his voice all sweet once more, all dripping with honey as he caressed you, “you’re such a good girl, such a good fucking girl, you did so good, baby.”

The rest of the drive home is silent, you feeling fucked out in Steve’s lap, Steve looking smug, and the Uber driver staring straight ahead as if the debauchery that just took place in the backseat of his car had never even happened. Your legs are shaking, and you can’t believe what’s just happened but you’re too exhausted to truly care. All you want is your bed. And sleep.

“Sweetheart, I think we’re here. Is this your building?”

“It is,” you say hoarsely, suddenly feeling too shy to even meet his gaze. And there’s a part of you that feels guilty now that it’s all over, a part of you that keeps thinking about Ari and what he would think about all this. Fuck. You shake your head to clear out all those thoughts until tomorrow, “Thanks for giving me a lift home, Stevie.”

His lop-sided smile returns, almost as if the whole ordeal in the Uber had never even happened, “No worries, baby.”

He helps you out of the car, and your legs feel like complete jelly, but you’re thankful that you can stand upright. You feel a weight on your shoulders, suddenly noticing his varsity jacket is still on you. Blue and white, with his initials “S.G.R.” “Oh, your jacket, Stevie. Here–”

“You keep it.” He cuts you off, his eyes glittering with the reflection of the moon and stars as his lip curls upwards, “Keep it somewhere in your dorm room, somewhere where everyone can see, alright?”

“Okay.” You really don’t have it in you to question his weird request.

He walks you all the way to your dorm room like a perfect gentleman, waits while you rummage through your purse for your keys. Chuckles as he finds them for you and unlocks your door. Pats your ass as he pushes you inside.

But not before pressing a kiss on your cheek and murmuring a quiet, “I’ll see you soon enough, baby.”

And then he’s gone, and you’re alone. You put your phone on charge before immediately flopping down on your bed. Your aching muscles hum in satisfaction, and you feel instant relief as you kick your heels off and close your eyes. Your heart is racing – how had you gone from being a virgin at the beginning of the year to hooking up with two guys in the same night?!

Speaking of one of the guys, your phone begins vibrating the moment it gains its battery back, and you see a flood of texts and missed calls from Ari. And you think back to how you’d feel a small sense of satisfaction and a burst of happiness every time he texted you or called you in the past.

Now, you don’t even have the energy to open his messages. It could wait till tomorrow.

You close your eyes to sleep. And you dreamt of Ari, of course you did. You dreamt of Ari a lot. But there was someone else alongside the brunet in your dreams tonight. A blonde with a charming smile and glittering eyes, the moonlight bathing him like a halo.

But you weren’t so sure if he was an angel.

AFHJSAFA OKAY! SO. What do we think??? AND YES omfg of course the second love interest was Steve! Y'all know i'm a whore for Steve and for me, he's the only one who can believably compete against THE Ari Levinson!!! I can't wait to delve into this story!!! I hope you guys enjoyed! Feedback would mean the world to me!

(also i'm paranoid that there are mistakes and continuity errors even tho i sorta did reread it kind of but aksdfnldaskgal idk!!! i'm sure it's all fine tho)

I actually prepared some questions for yall just in case:

Is it too soon to ask if you're team Ari or team Steve?!?! BC I WANNA KNOWWW.

Do Ari and Steve know each other?!?! DO YOU THINK THEY HAVE HISTORY?!?!

Does Ari have feelings for reader?! What is Steve's deal?!!? IDK YALL JUST PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT, ANY GENERAL THOUGHTS AND FEEDBACK SDFKLSAFN OKAY BYE

donate to my ko-fi!

#ari levinson #ari levinson x reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #curtis everett #curtis everett x reader #andy barber x reader

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withahappyrefrain · 10 months

Note

I wish you would write a fic where... College!Tasm!Peter gets reaallyyy jealous at Reader talking to her ex bf and fucks her on his bed until she’s a bumbling mess 🫣

I think it's time for blonde!Peter to come back

It was stupid. Absolutely ridiculous.

You were barely engaged in the conversation, more focused on the condensation forming on your red solo cup than what your ex had to say.

The interaction shouldn't have bothered him. You were his. Hell, you were even wearing his snapback.

And yet, his blood still boiled at the sight. His hands still balled up into fists. Wade joked that he could steam coming out of Peter's ears.

The dickbag was trying to flirt. Key word was try.

It was awkward as hell, clearly trying to evoke the 'oh remember how much fun we had, minus the part where I ghosted you and refused to eat you out because I'm a little bitch?' card. Every step he took towards you, you'd take a step away. With your arms crossed and the way your eyes focused on anything other than him, it should have been obvious you weren't interested.

And yet, the fucker still had the audacity to put his hand on your shoulder and squeeze it.

Peter didn't have to wait for you to send him the look. He was over there immediately, arm wrapped around your waist.

"She's busy," was all Peter curtly said, before picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder.

Despite your shrieks, you didn't mind it.

Nor did you mind when he brought you to his bedroom.

You especially didn't mind when he had you on your back, knees pressed to your chest as he thrust into you.

"You look so good underneath me babe," He grunted, eyebrows knitted in concentration as he watched your body wither from his touch.

"Y-yeah," his touch was overwhelming, your body reeling from your previous orgasms.

Peter simply smirked, his fingers trailing down to right above where your bodies connected.

Jolts of pleasure sparked throughout your body as his long fingers drew circles on your clit. The band in your stomach kept getting tighter and tighter with each thrust. His teeth sink into your exposed collarbone, eliciting a gasp from your lips.

Only he got to see you like this, back arched with your head thrown back in pleasure. Only he got to make you feel like this, causing your cunt to clench and spasm in pleasure around his cock.

No one else.

"You gonna come again baby? Let me hear it. Let them all hear how much you love my cock."

Normally his dirty words would fluster you. Your cheeks still burn, but this time they're intensifying the ache between your legs, fueling your need to be consumed by him and only him.

What could best be described as a broken wail fell from your lips. In reality, it was doubtful that those in the hallway could hear you over the blaring music. But the idea that maybe they could hear you, could hear the bed frame slam against the wall, could hear the grunts Peter was letting out as you fell apart around his cock, fueled a deeper desire in you two.

Your hands weakly grabbed his bleached hair, making a feeble attempt to tug on the thick locks.

"Don't worry baby, not done with ya. Fuck no," Peter's chuckle was dry, his body trying to hold on, trying to stall off his own release, "You're gonna come again. Whatcha think about that? Ya wanna fall apart on my cock again?"

A whine fell from your lips. Sensitivity surged through your body, mixing with the euphoric pleasure.

"I......I, Peter I-" what were you even asking for?

"Aw, is my baby already fucked dumb from my cock? You're so smart, until my cock is inside ya. Can't focus on anything else can ya?"

"Peter....want...." Normally you were so good at multitasking. But with the way his cock was thrusting in and out of your soaked entrance, the idea of being able to focus on anything other than the sensation between your legs seemed next to impossible.

"C'mon baby," His breath is hot against your ear, "Use ya words."

A feeble moan fell from your lips as you shook your head. It was too much, but somehow also not enough.

What did you want? The words were on the tip of your tongue, tricking you into thinking you could express them, only to run away as soon as Peter's cock brushed against that one spot that made you see stars behind your eyelids.

"C'mon, use your words," His speed increases, his hands now grabbing the flesh of your hips as he drives into you, "What. Do. You. Want?"

Each word is emphasized with a pointed thrust. His honeyed eyes are overtaken with lust, irises overblown by a pure black. The scent of cinnamon is overwhelming your nostrils as his stubbled jawline brushes against yours.

It's only when you feel his cock twitch inside of you that you find the words, now driven by a red hot burning need.

"Want your cum! Want your cum inside me, please, want it so bad, wanna be filled with you, want you to fill me up, please Peter!"

His thrusts slow down, which you think is done to tease. In reality, Peter knows if he doesn't, he'll come immediately. And he wants to draw this out as long as possible. Wants people to notice that you and him have been gone for quite some time.

Peter's imagining your stupid ex still lingering around. Dumbass was probably wondering how you two weren't done yet, given the man's notorious record for the quickest, saddest sex ever.

"Peter-"

"I got ya baby," he leaned down, hovering over your body as he pulled your thighs to his hips. He was now (somehow) deeper inside of you, hips rutting into yours.

"Gonna fill you up real good. Make you mine." You can only whine at his words, your body overstimulated from the immense pleasure.

His lips swallowed your moans. You didn't even need to look, you could feel that smirk radiating off of him. A deep groan fell from his lips when he felt your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him even closer.

Between the bass from the outside music vibrating the floor to the smell of cinnamon that always engulfed Peter, you felt completely at bliss, content for him to continue to use you until his own release.

With one final tug on his hair, Peter's hips stuttered before coming inside of you. What were once moans and wood slamming filling the room were now heavy pants as you both tried to catch your breath.

"That was...wow."

Peter lifted his head up, a boyish grin overtaking gus face, "Was? Who said we were done?"

"Peter....you already..." You froze upon realizing he was still hard. Still inside of you.

"Perks of a radioactive spider bite. I'm far from done with you babygirl."

You were in for a long night.

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snapback-gravity-falls · 2 years

Text

Sail Away With Me

Summary: In this dimension, Stanford tries to sail away with Stanley.

This fic is inspired by and based on this comic. Thank you @daidz-art for making this beautiful comic! (Cross-posted on AO3)

It was supposed to be fine. Everything was supposed to work out.

But it didn’t.

West Cost Tech had rejected him.

If it had been because his project truly wasn’t up to snuff, he would have been fine with that. He would have been able to move on.

But his twin did this.

He had taken away the only opportunity either of them had to get away from New Jersey. Of course he’d have been by himself in the school, but he’d have scraped up enough money after college to bring his brother to him. That had been the plan.

It wasn’t the plan anymore.

He yelled without regard to how his twin—the only other one that mattered other than himself—flinched, without really paying attention. He saw his future—their future—shattered before his eyes. It hadn’t involved treasure hunting because that wouldn’t have been viable, but it would have been something. It would have been better.

It wasn’t so much the words that had snapped him out of his angry stupor, but it had been the seething voice that slithered down his spine. It wasn’t a roar, but it didn’t have to be.

Filbrick Pines could make himself heard without even raising his voice.

Stanley stared up at their father with fear written all over his face. “Wait, no, I can explain! It was a mistake!”

“A mistake?” He shoved his son down onto the couch and stared at him for not even a heartbeat before he stormed out of the room.

“Stanley, what happened?” Caryn demanded as she bounced the crying baby.

He didn’t even look at his twin, he was busy looking down the hallway where they could hear Filbrick riffling through things. “I-I broke—Ford’s project. It was an accident though, I swear. It was still moving when I left so I thought it was fine.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “You should’ve told me! I could’ve fixed it last night.”

Stanley looked over at him, eyes wide and pitiful in a way that they had never been before. “I—”

Footsteps started down the hall and everyone went quiet as the storm rolled in. There wasn’t time to ask any questions because before they knew it, he had grabbed Stanley and started hauling him down the stairs.

Caryn started after him. “Fil—”

“No, you’re not gonna get him outta trouble this time!”

Stanford knew what would happen—it was inevitable with their father’s temper. He went to their room, determined to give Stanley the silent treatment when he was returned with red marks on his back and legs. Stanley always squirmed.

Upon opening the door, he saw the window was open and clothes were strewn about in a way they hadn’t been when he left earlier that evening. It was clear to him that their father had rifled through their room, but why would he open the—

He heard the front door open downstairs and rushed to the window to look outside just in time to see his twin sitting on the sidewalk with their father standing over him. His eyes weren’t drawn to the two men, but rather to the duffel bag that sat beside Filbrick’s feet.

He threw the duffel bag down before he walked back out.

He had been packing Stanley’s things.

He was kicking Stanley out.

The bag was thrown into his twin’s chest, and he barely managed to catch it for all of his shock. “Stanford, tell him he’s bein’ crazy!”

He gaped down at the scene, unable to quite process what was happening.

He couldn’t kick out Stanley. He was just supposed to give him licks and send him back upstairs. He was supposed to give him a lecture and take away privileges. Stanley wasn’t supposed to be thrown out of their lives.

“Filbrick, what are you doing?”

“Quiet, Caryn!”

That snapped him back to reality. “Pa, this is crazy! You can’t kick Stan out!”

Because for all his faults, Stanley was the one that had been there for him most. When their mother was distracted and father was ignoring them, they had each other to rely on. They were brothers—twins—and that meant something.

“You stay outta this unless you wanna tag along with him!”

There it was. Exactly what Stanford had expected.

He was one mistake away from being kicked out, too. It hurt. It made him angry.

As much as he wanted to go to WCT, as angry as he was with Stanley, he couldn’t… he couldn’t live with the thought of his brother on the streets.

Because that’s where he’d end up and that’s where he would stay. Stanley was more stubborn than anyone else in their family. They wouldn’t see him again until he made millions… if he made millions. How could a kid without a high school diploma make that kind of money?

He couldn’t.

The worst part was… he could see Stanley dead in a ditch without any of them knowing.

And that made up his mind.

“Fine!” He yelled back, turning on his heel and hurriedly packing his own things. He turned to shout out the window, “We can make it on our own!”

After he was sure he’d gotten everything they would need—including the money they had stashed away—he ran downstairs and pushed past their father.

“Can’t we just talk about this?” Caryn pleaded. “Boys, come back inside.”

“No, Ma, he made his choice!” Stanford pointed to their father. “Shermie wouldn’t even come around if it weren’t for us—” He gestured between their ma, himself and his twin. He didn’t break eye-contact with the towering man. “—and when we’re all gone, no one’s even gonna visit your grave.”

“You’re not thinking clearly,” Filbrick stated, voice low and warning.

“Well, neither are you.” He turned and pushed his twin towards the car. “C’mon Stanley. We’re leaving.”

He got into the passenger’s seat and threw his bag between his feet, refusing to look back at their parents. If he looked at their Ma, he would break and go back, but he couldn’t—wouldn’t—leave Stanley.

“Ford, are you s—”

“Just drive!”

With a sigh, the car was started, and they were driving away.

They would need a plan.

Moses, what would they do?

“If the college board isn’t impressed with my experiment tomorrow, then okay. I’ll do the treasure-hunting thing.”

“Take us to the beach,” he said suddenly, staring at the road ahead with his mind filling with broken dreams and childhood fantasies in place of the weight of reality.

“Go home, Stanford.” Stanley had never sounded so tired before, so resigned.

He couldn’t think of that: of his brother’s sudden change in mood or reality. He could only follow through on his promise.

Their promise.

“The beach, Stanley! Drive us to the damn beach!”

There was a long silence before he wordlessly turned the car to take them on the familiar route.

His hands shook in his lap, but he ignored that.

They would set sail tonight and reach the next port by morning. He’d use the money they’d scraped up the past year and a half to get supplies. They’d been fishing enough to know how to survive. They would take work on the docks, rent out their ship for tours. They could do it.

He would make it happen.

The car parked and there was the beach.

Dark water kissed the pale sand under the pale moonlight. In the distance, the silhouette of the Stan O’War stood proud like a beacon calling to him.

He grabbed their bags when Stanley didn’t move and got out of the car, determined. They would come back for the car tomorrow, for now they needed to set sail and let the ocean wash everything away.

He threw the bags up onto the deck and pushed against the boat. After a moment of it not budging more than an inch, he realized his twin was still off to the side looking at him.

“H-help me push the boat,” he panted.

He couldn’t do it alone. Neither of them could ever do anything alone. He should have known better.

They could go, they could run.

They could disappear into the night.

“Ford…” Quiet—Stanley was never quiet—and resigned—Stanley never gave up.

Why was he like this? Didn’t he say this was the silver-lining? They could sail around the world and hunt treasure—he said that was the plan wasn’t it? Stanford had promised him this would be their fall back. They had to sail away.

He turned and started pushing against it with his back, looking at his brother with desperation. “We’ll go sailing together! Just help me!”

Stanley lowered his eyes, dejected. “Stanford, stop… just go home.”

Go home? That place wasn’t home without laughter and Stanley was the only one that made them laugh. He was still upset, but he couldn’t let his brother go without him. He couldn’t lose him forever.

The thought alone made his chest tight and vision blurry. “Stop saying that!”

Stanley glanced at him but couldn’t hold his gaze. He looked so broken and tired. It wasn’t the Stanley he knew.

“I… I don’t wanna go home without you.”

A weak, sad chuckle. “You must be pretty stupid if you wanna run away with me.”

There was so much inside him—anger, sorrow, anxiety, and emotions he wasn’t sure had names—and somehow, despite knowing so many words, he couldn’t find any to express everything he felt he needed to. What came out was immediate and desperate; it made his raw voice crack and hands shake.

“I said we’d go sailing if WCT failed! It failed!” His hand fisted his own shirt. “I promised!”

Stanley grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck. “I know… but sometimes promises break.” He looked up with quiet, dejected earnestness. “You can make something of yourself if you go back. You don’t have to be a fuck up like me.”

“Stop that! I’m not leaving you—never!”

“You think I’m gonna die out there on my own… don’t you?”

His breath hitched.

He wanted to deny it. He wanted to shake his brother and tell him that he was amazing even if everyone else thought differently. He wanted to be angry at him for ruining his chances at getting into the college of his dreams, to demand to know what he was thinking, to get that goddamn look off of his face so he could be mad at him properly!

Most of all, he wanted to go back in time to fix everything so Stanley wouldn’t have to look at him like that.

His knees gave out from under him, and he sat heavily in the sand, back pressed against the boat as a sob escaped his lips. His hands moved as they always did when he cried: pushing his glasses up so he could hide his face without smudging them and tangle his fingers in his hair.

“I don’t wanna lose you,” he confessed through the tears.

It felt as if there was an eternity before he noticed a warm body sitting next to his. When he looked over, Stanley was staring at the stars above them, head leaned back against their boat. He’d known Stanley every day of their lives and he had never seen him look so old and tired. Would he always look like this if he was alone?

“I always thought it was you and me against the world,” Stanley said quietly, chest heaving. “Now I know better.”

“Stanley—”

“We both know that you shouldn’t be here.” He turned to look at him with tears streaming down his cheeks and a sternness that hadn’t been there before. “Go home. I’ll be okay.”

Without thought, he grabbed Stanley and pulled him close, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “No, not without you. It’s you and me against the world—always.”

Fingers dug into his shoulder, but he was neither pushed away nor pulled closer.

“Go home.”

“No.”

“Plea—… please, just go home.”

“No.”

#Snapback Fic #daiidz-art comic #Ambiguous Ending #Corporal Punishment (Mentioned)#Stanford Pines #Stanley Pines #Filbrick Pines #Ma Pines #Caryn Pines #Shermie Pines (Mentioned)#Who is the baby? No one knows #Ask To Tag #Cross-posted on AO3

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back2bluesidex · 8 months

Text

Where Do Broken Hearts Go - Chapter 1 (18+)

Pairing: Model, ex-boyfriend!Jungkook X Child psychologist, Fem!Reader X Lawyer, Single Dad!Hoseok.

Summary: Jungkook stripped your emotions naked, left you bare in the chilly wind of despair and self-doubt with an unending heartache. You tried your hardest to move on from him, to live for yourself but failed miserably. Each night you had to come back to your empty home where memories and broken dreams were scattered all around the floor, until one day a little angel and her unbelievably beautiful father came into your life. Finally, when you find yourself healing, maybe falling too, Jungkook had to show up! Again!

Theme: Angst, pining, heartbreak, break-up, SMUT (MDNI)

Warnings: lots of crying, reader is broken, she is suffering so bad, a flashback explicit sex scene, big-dick Jungkook, kind of size kink, he hits it from behind, shower sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up), creampie, Jung Hoseok enters the scene, he is so attractive that you might faint, subtle and flirty Hoseok, an adorable little girl, Namjoon makes an appearance.

It's not really mentioned but just so you know, Hoseok and reader has a slight age gap like 5 years. (which is not at all an age gap to me because my first boyfriend was 8 years older than me. haha. you didn't just read that.)

Word count: 4.2k

Taglist requests are closed.

Minors and karens are not allowed in this blog

A/N: First chapter is here. I wrote 4k+ words for a single fic and that's unbelievable. Anyway, I hope you guys like it, and I hope it's worth the wait.

Main Masterlist

Chapters:-

Prologue/Masterpost || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 - Finale

“Reaching in 10 minutes”

That’s what Jungkook texted you half an hour ago.

It’s nothing new. He has always been late to your every date, every plan, every meetup. What is new is the lack of explanations and excuses following his delayed arrivals. He only apologizes and you hardly hear any sincerity in his atonements.

You sigh, staring out of the huge window of the private cabin.

Jungkook can’t meet you at your (supposed to be shared) home due to his “privacy” issues. So, you had to reserve this private cabin of an over-expensive continental restaurant. It’s funny how all of these feel so formal. It feels as if you are meeting one of your wealthy clients and not your boyfriend. This is how far Jungkook has drifted from you.

Your feet bounce on the floor, reminding you that you are indeed very nervous.

It’s a “leap of faith” situation for you today. If it works out then everything will start afresh, if it doesn’t… you will have to fall and break without having any idea on how to mend yourself.

“Sorry. I’m late.” Jungkook’s muffled voice rings behind your ear.

You were so lost in your thoughts, or fear, that you didn’t even hear him entering the cabin.

He heads towards the seat opposite of yours, without any further greetings, any kiss or even a hug… not even a single glance.

“As if it’s the first time.” you scoff. Jungkook chuckles nervously, removing his mask and snapback.

“Let’s order something. Heard their soy sauce chicken is a hit-”

“Y/N, I can’t stay for long. Can you make it quick?” Jungkook cuts off your words. His tone is so curt, so foreign that you doubt if it’s actually him underneath his skin or not.

“Jungkook… What's wrong? Why are you making things so formal? For fuck’s sake it’s me. Your so-called girlfriend.” Your voice quivers but you scream nonetheless.

“Y/N! Quit being dramatic and lower your voice. We are not at home.” Jungkook hisses, teeth gritting, eyes narrowing.

“Home? You mean the apartment you left because your agency said it’s risky to share a space with your girlfriend of three years? The same place you refused to meet at because paparazzi are keeping tabs on you as you are rumored to be dating someone else?” you reply with the same ferocity.

Jungkook closes his eyes and rubs his face with both of his palms. Taking a sharp inhale, he says, “Can you please tell me why we are here? I don’t think you called me all the way here just so we can fight?”

You roll your eyes, less in sarcasm, more in an attempt to make your tears disappear.

You sit straight as if being prepared for the sword that is going to pierce through your heart, “Jungkook, do you.. do you love me?”

Jungkook visibly stiffens. His eyes go wide as if someone has asked him to jump off of the building. You see him collecting himself and clearing his throat only to lie, “O-Of course I do. But suddenly why?”

Even though you want to believe his words, you know those are as hollow as his eyes and maybe his heart as well.

“Then..” you pause, reaching for your purse. Pulling out the pitch black velvet box, you look at him. Jungkook’s eyes are wide again, filled with horror and confusion. He probably knows what you are doing and he does not seem to be the least bit happy.

You stand up from your seat and round the table to reach Jungkook, “don’t you think it’s the high time we get engaged? It’s been three years since we started dating, our families approve of each other and” you pause, being unsure of whether you should say it, “and we have always wanted a future together.” You open the box for him to see, a tight-lipped smile lingers on your face only to punctuate your proposal.

Jungkook looks up at you with his big, doe, mystical eyes and then looks down on the ring you have spent a fortune on. Your heart hammers in your chest, but it is not the flattering kind. Your heart races in a fear that you are not ready to face yet.

Jungkook’s face falls and he looks away from you. He plays with his fingers and avoids any kind of eye contact with you. You stand there like a doll made of steel, staring at him holding the ring.

“Y/N. This is not- I can’t. I mean, this is so sudden. I am at the peak of my career and I can’t think of getting engaged or married at this point of life.” he runs a hand though his dark hair out of frustration, “Why are you rushing everything like this?” Jungkook’s eyes are still trained on the table, not on you.

“Because I am afraid, Jungkook. I am afraid you might leave me behind if I don’t try to hold onto you now.” you finally let your tears fall. Uncontrollable sobs leave your mouth.

Jungkook whips his head towards you and then stands up slowly. He holds you by your arms and opens his mouth to say something, “Y/N. I-”

“But I guess it’s too late now. You were long gone. You were gone far before the day you were seen with her. I should have understood Jungkook. I should have…” you run out of breath but still continue, “now please answer me honestly, you love her. Don’t you?”

Jungkook starts avoiding your eyes again. His grip on your arms loosens and you somehow know the answer already.

“I never cheated on you, Y/N. I never lied to you.” He offers with eyes shut tightly.

“But you never told me the full truth either.” your voice comes out weak.

Jungkook remains silent for a while and then he continues with a frail voice, “That night. I mean, the photo that went viral, I was sending her back to her hotel. She flew all the way to the States to confess to me.” This is a new revelation to you, since you never really demanded any explanation from him. Honestly, you didn’t have the guts to face the truth. Rather you decided to try one last time. And that is what brings you here, defeated and rejected with a truck load of pain burdening you down.

“And? What did you say?” you press on, being determined to end your suffering today even if it means you will have to return home with a broken relationship and a broken heart.

“Nothing.” Jungkook gulps.

“You could not say no because you feel the same and you could not say yes because you still had me, is that right?” You know you awfully sound like you are in a session with one of your patients but you don’t care. You need to get to the root of this unbearable pain and cut it off for once and for all.

Jungkook nods. Even though his eyes are hidden from yours, you know, those are full of guilt and shame but not a single speck of love and affection for you.

You close your eyes, let the tears fall unbound, shut the box tight and take two steps back from your soon-to-be ex-boyfriend.

“I know this is a stupid question but I- I’m just confirming” another sob leaves your mouth unintentionally, “do you want to break up? With me?”

Jungkook pinches the bridge of his nose. He is probably finding a way to say yes without having to hurt you more than you can bear.

“Y/N..” he murmurs. This is most likely the last time you are hearing him call you by your name.

“Jungkook, please, just yes or no.” You take another step away from him.

“Yes.” Jungkook breathes out. His eyes are still shut tight.

Even though you knew what his answer would be, it still hurts much more than it did in your imagination.

You feel as if your head is underwater, you can’t breathe, can’t fight, can’t scream. You need to be saved but the person you want to reach out to is the same person who pushed you into this unfathomable water.

Your vision gets blurry with tears again, you can’t see Jungkook anymore. And you guess it’s better that way.

“Okay. That's all I think. That’s all for our three years of history. I hope you lead a happier life from now on. Goodbye….. Jungkook.” and with that you left without waiting for him to say anything. You left him and a part of yourself with him.

You are again sitting at your dining table, holding your phone tightly in your hand. You are again re-reading a headline just like you did a month and two days ago. You are again trying not to cry but you are failing miserably.

“Calvin Kline fame Jeon Jungkook confirms the rumors by kissing rumored girlfriend actress Han Jiwon at a club downtown - The agency is yet to provide a statement.”

It's cruel, how you have to wake up exactly at 7 in the morning despite crying for the better part of the night.

It's even more cruel, how your vacation application (which you have been pursuing for more than a week now) was declined harshly because there's a "priority client" and you, arguably the most competent child psychologist of the clinic, have to take over the case.

You reach for your phone and turn off the alarm.

Opening your eyes, you stare at the ceiling blankly. It's been two weeks since you last saw Jungkook at the restaurant. It's been two weeks since your relationship came to an end. And it's been four months since you are sleeping on your own but you still crave for his warmth beside you.

Love can be a funny thing. At one moment it's fulfilling you, injecting your heart with a sickening sweetness and at another one it's ripping off your urge to continue living, it's stuffing you with insecurity and self doubts that you hardly knew the existence of.

You wonder what Jungkook is doing now. Is he sleeping by himself or is he waking up beside Jiwon? Is he kissing her shoulders softly like he used to do to you or is he hovering above her, spreading her legs and inserting his large shaft inside.

Your thoughts are shaken off with the vibrating sound of your phone.

It's Miseon. The receptionist of The Mindscope ( the clinic you work for) and probably the only person you can call a friend in this entire world.

"Morning." You greet.

"Hey. Heard that your application was declined?" Miseon chrips from the other side of the line.

"Yeah. For some priority clients. Kim asshole Namjoon will be deep-fried in burning oil in a giant ass frying pan in hell." You grumble.

"So you are coming back to work today I guess."

"Yes I have to."

"Will you be okay tho?" You can hear concern in your friend's voice. She's the only person apart from your family to know about your and Jungkook's relationship. So, she called you immediately after seeing the tabloids twelve days ago. You cried on her shoulder when she visited you.

"Yeah. I guess. I have to start doing the actual work anyway. My eyes are in pain for the prolonged hours I spent staring at Microsoft Word for these two weeks. Ugh. Now I hate documentation even more."

Miseon chuckles, “Okay, see you at the clinic then.”

“Yeah. see you.”

You drag yourself out of the bed and head towards the washroom. If this is a new start, then you better accept it.

As soon as the warm soothing water touches your body, memories come rushing back, flooding your mind with despair in the process.

“Jungkook… I’m gonna get late” you whine, head tilting back with pleasure.

Jungkook’s hand snakes around your waist, fingers reach for your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Five minutes won’t hurt, baby.” he whispers in your ear as his index and middle finger draw slow circles on your wet clit.

His other hand teases one of your wet nipples, twisting and tugging it as harshly as he wants.

A pool of slick gushes out of your hole making jungkook groan at the feeling. He dips his middle finger in your hole and collects some of your wetness, he then uses that to rub more smooth circles on your clit.

You choke on thin air, moaning his name again and again you start to roll your hip on his naked cock.

His giant cock fits perfectly along your ass crack, as if it was made to fit inside you.

You roll your hips harder to elicit a reaction from your boyfriend.

“Such a dirty girl, huh? All for me.” Jungkook’s husky voice pierce through your sober mind and you find yourself dazed with love and pleasure.

Jungkook increases the pace of his fingers and you get more and more wet each passing second.

“Kook.. I- I need you.” you manage to breathe out.

“Don’t be vague, Y/N. Tell me what you exactly need.” Jungkook replies smugly.

“I need your giant cock to ruin my pussy, daddy.” you reply, squeezing the tit that has been deprived of your boyfriend’s attention.

“Whatever my baby says.” and with that jungkook slips inside you in one go. You barely get any chance to adjust because he starts moving right away.

He fucks you slow. His fingers never stop teasing your clit and soon you two reach your climax. He fills you with his cum and you coat his cock with yours.

“Let’s get cleaned now, hm?” Jungkook places a kiss on your shoulder as he turns on the shower.

Your back slides down the shower wall. You shake violently as loud sobs leave your throat one after another.

“You are so cruel, Jungkook. You are so fucking cruel.” you scream. Your throat hurts but your heart hurts even more.

You should have read the signs. When he kept on talking about Jiwon, aka his new friend from the agency, you should have perceived that shine in his eyes.

You should have confronted him more when he said he would have a drink with her after his shoot.

You should have asked his whereabouts when he ignored your calls and texts because he visited her in one of her drama sets.

You should have done a lot of things but most importantly, you should have loved him a little less and loved yourself a little more.

Counselee Information: - Name: Jung Sua Age: 7 (seven) Gender: Female (F) Guardian: Jung Hoseok Relationship with the guardian: Father of the counselee Reasons behind seeking help: 1. Changes in behavior 2. Quieter and more reserved than before 3. Frequent nightmares 4. Mild panic attacks

“So, what do you think?” Namjoon questions, leaning on the plush chair, placed at the end of your table.

“Nothing complicated. You could have handled it yourself. There was absolutely no need of rejecting my vacation applications again and again.” you spat, being very unimpressed with the dimpled smirk on your boss’ face.

“Oh my god. What’s wrong?” he dramatically leans forward. Placing a hand on his chest, Namjoon continues, “I thought you will be in a better mood after two weeks of work from home. But you seem even more annoyed than before.”

“For your information, I asked for a damn holiday not work from home aka prolonged hours of documentation. I really need some time off, Namjoon. I am not kidding.” Your voice sounds so defeated that Namjoon has to sit straight.

A serious expression takes over his features as he replies, “I know, Y/N. You are definitely not the type to take leaves for fun. But I am helpless here. The client has asked for you personally. He has done his own research and concluded that you can help his daughter better than everyone else in this clinic. I could not do anything.”

You nod understanding his point of view.

You are always more than ready to help these little, innocent souls out. It pains you to see these babies experiencing something as horrific as panic attacks.

But this time you need therapy more than anyone else under your radar. Even though your exterior doesn’t show the unbearable pain your interior is going through, you still need some solace. You are really unwilling to work at this moment and you doubt if you can help anyone else when you are not mentally fit yourself.

But you hardly have a choice. And maybe, just maybe, you will get a chance of distracting yourself from Jungkook's thoughts. Maybe you will be able to take a breather. Maybe you will heal in the process. Maybe?

“The appointment is at 11 am, right?” You ask the man sitting right in front of you.

“Yes,” he answers.

“It’s 10:49 already. Get out and let me prepare myself.” you mutter, closing your eyes and leaning back on your chair.

“Okay okay. Don’t be so aggressive.” Namjoon chuckles before leaving you alone in the cabin.

You go through Jung Sua's records once more to verify if there's a health condition you should be aware of. But there isn't anything.

Just when you close the file, a knock rings on the cabin door.

You sit straight. Ready to welcome a new friend.

Yuna, your assistant, knocks once more before pushing the door slowly. She walks in first and then holds the door open for the guests.

And the cutest seven years old, you have ever seen, walks inside. She's so small that she can be easily mistaken for a five year old. Her chubby cheeks and immaculately done pigtails makes her look like a doll.

You almost coo at the sight.

Even though you mostly work with kids, for the past year you were working with only teenagers. It's been long since you had the pleasure to serve yourself for a kid less than ten years old, let alone a seven year one.

"Hello there, Miss Sua. How are you doing?" You say in a jovial voice, trudging towards the baby.

Sua tenses a bit and looks behind her, looking for shelter from her father. He stands right behind Sua, offering her to hold one of his hands. Sua takes that readily.

You come forward and sit on your knees to maintain an eye level with your new friend.

"Don't worry. I'm your new friend. My name is Y/N." You offer her your hand. She hesitates a bit and then looks at her father for confirmation.

You follow her cue and tilt your head up to take a look at the father of your counselee.

Only if you weren't the embodiment of damsel of distress these days, you could very well have a love at first sight.

The man flaunts a pair of incredibly beautiful yet intimidating eyes, a chiseled jaw that can cut you into pieces, perfectly styled dark hair that falls on his face, and a pair of heart shaped lips which enhances the overall beauty of his face. The fitted dress pants and the black dress shirt give hints of the lithe, well-structured body that lies inside.

He smiles at you, you do the same. And then you feel a softer, smaller hand wrapping up your fingertips lightly.

Her cuteness makes you giggle.

You stand up, taking her hand on yours, you start walking towards a cozier corner of your cabin, where you usually counsel kids. Her father follows you closely behind.

There's a small and round glass table along with three chairs. One is meant for you and two others are meant for the counselees and their guardians.

You turn towards Sua’s father. Smiling a little and you say “You need to take the seat first, so that she can be assured it is safe here.”

“Sure” he replies. His voice is smooth and light, a contrast to his dark and manly features.

He sits down on the bigger chair and pats on the smaller one, “come on Sua, com ‘ere.”

Sua leaves your hand and wiggles towards her dad. She easily plops down on her seat.

“Yuna, can you prepare the game room please?” You ask your assistant.

“Sure, Y/N” She says before closing the door as you get comfortable in your own chair.

Sua regards you with her big, round doe eyes. She looks at you so intensely as if you have grown two horns in your head.

You chuckle a bit, “Sua, don’t you like your new friend? Don’t you like me?”

Sua stays silent.

“Sua is very friendly. I am sure she will like Y/N very soon. Isn’t it, baby?” Sua’s father chimes in, squeezing one of her little hands with his bigger, rougher ones.

You are so accustomed to your patients and their guardians to address you as “doctor”, that you had to take a moment after your name rolled out of Mr. Jung’s mouth.

The change is welcomed anyway.

You divert your eyes from Sua to him, only to find him smiling at you warmly. You mirror his smile. His smile is so damn gorgeous that you can’t help but feel contaminated with it.

“Sua, what do you like to play the most?” you focus on Sua again.

“Mario kart” she replies briefly, staring down at her feet.

“Okay. That's a great game. But what would you like to play outside? For example with your classmates during lunchtime?” You place your next question.

“My classmates don’t play with me.” She was quick with her answer.

Your smile drops instantly and you already start mapping out all the possible sources of the issues she is facing.

Nodding to yourself in understanding, you proceed, “Okay, let’s not talk about games anymore. You tell me what you like more, oranges or mangoes?”

“Mangoes.” she replies.

“Okay” standing up from your seat, you walk towards your table and call Yuna. She comes within a few seconds.

You instruct her to take Sua to the game room and treat her to some delicious mango juice. Even though Sua hesitates for a bit, her father’s encouragement works really well.

As soon as Sua leaves the room, you find yourself quite nervous under the intimidating gaze of Mr. Jung.

This setting is nothing new. You have been into one-on-one conversations with your counselees’ parents for more times than you can count. But none of them were as young and attractive as Mr. Jung.

You inhale a long breath before continuing, “so, Mr. Jung, since when did you start noticing these changes in Sua?”

“Almost a month ago. I can’t pinpoint an exact date but she has gradually become very quiet over this last month. She used to be very chatty. She used to tell me every little thing in detail about her day, her friends, what she had for lunch, what colors she used in drawings and so on. Now-a-days her answers have become vague and insignificant.” Mr. Jung sighs.

“Hmm. and the nightmares?” you ask, scribbling on the ipad.

“Around the same time. She woke up at 2 in the morning, ran to my room crying and breathing heavily. She didn’t tell me what it was about but kept on saying she was afraid. The same thing happened two more times.” He completes.

“Umm. The next question might be a little personal but the information is required for future counsellings. I ask for your understanding.” you sit straight. He nods.

“You said she came running to you when she had nightmares. Hence, I assume you were alone in the room. What about Sua’s mother?”

“I am a single dad, Doctor. Sua’s mother and I were in a casual relationship when she conceived with Sua unexpectedly. Both of us were just starting our careers so it was tough for us to think of getting married. On the top of that we didn’t like each other enough to proceed with that option. So, we decided to co-parent. But…” he pauses, takes in a long breath and then continues, “she disappeared after giving birth. She left a note behind as an apology, saying that she is not ready to be a mother, asking me not to contact her anymore. My mother and sister helped me in raising Sua so beautifully. They are the only ones to become something close to a mother figure for her. That’s all.”

You feel something warm flooding in your chest. You don’t know what it is, it can be respect, can be sympathy, can be even admiration for this man who you don’t even know properly.

A genuine smile takes over your face as you mutter, “You have done a great job Mr. Jung. You have raised a beautiful daughter all by yourself. You have worked hard.”

Mr, Jung’s dark eyes flood with some emotions you can’t quite name. He stares at you intensely, so much so that you feel he is reading you inside out. You can’t help but stare back at him.

“Call me Hoseok. So that I can call you by your name too. Is that okay, Y/N?” his voice is deeper than earlier, his smile is lopsided, more like a smirk.

You find yourself easily smiling along with him, something that has been quite tough for you to do for the past few months.

“Sure. Hoseok.” Your reply comes out without any further thought.

Taglist:-

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @soraviie @sukunabitch @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @xjoonchildx @justmewondering-recs @cuteipat @miakey98 @purpleanchorcrown @chimmisbae @ane102 @junniesoleilkth @terjeonbebas @kookssecret @appleh4ad @kayleeshinee @whoa-jo

#bts angst #bts smut #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #hoseok angst #hoseok smut #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #hoseok x reader #bts fanfiction #jungkook fanfic #hoseok scenarios #jhope angst #jhope smut

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hazelvrr · 2 months

Text

Chapter 1: The fair

S/n: As promised here's chapter 1, let me know if I should continue with this fic as I've never written a full fic before so I might be rubbish, also it's not proofread but any mistakes should only be minor. No use of y/n. I tried to capture their personalities to the best of my ability but they are so funny that they're also extremely difficult to write. I tried to not repeat any scenes from the movie, they still happen unless I mention them differently but I didn't want to sound like a broken record.

Summary: you get ready with pj and josie for the fair and they question your friendship with hazel and then you see her at the fair.

Warnings: none

Word count: 2.1k

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The fair was the one thing you looked forward to at the end of summer. Pretty much everything else about summer ending absolutely sucked but at least there was the fair.

Every year as soon as August rolled around, you were counting down the days until you could ride the ferris wheel, get cotton candy and most importantly, see hazel for the first time in 3 months.

Your 'best friend' hazel, if you could even call her that, volunteered at some charity or association of some sort all summer every single year without fail, so you couldn't see her for 3 months straight, which always drove you crazy.

You weren't quite sure why, after all, it was the same with pj and josie because they were away at some abstinence camp for the youth or as pj called it 'an anti sex cult run by a bunch of jealous old nuns who dont get any and are trying to ruin her life because shes hot as fuck' (her words, not yours) so you didn't see them either but you couldn't care less, so why were you so bothered about not seeing hazel?

Either way, you were super exited about this year's fair and had decided to get a ride from josie (only because you were embarrassed to tell anyone cool that you had failed your drivers test 5 times over the summer and had acctually managed to get yourself banned from the local dmv from 'assaulting your driving instructor' which you only did because he totally had it in for you) so naturally you thought it was a good idea to get ready at her house with her and pj.

BIG MISTAKE.

You should have known that pj and Josie, being the horny pervs that they are, spent the whole evening scheming about getting the cheerleaders attention, and how they were planning on getting possibly the straightest teenage girls you had ever seen in your whole life to fall head over heels for them.

Absolute losers.

You were so used to their antics that your brain had completely tuned them out as you applied your eyeliner, sitting beside pj, faces pushing eachother out of the way to fight to look in the tiniest mirror on josies desk.

You had stopped listening after josie had started ranting about the size of Jeff's penis, you were planning on stuffing your face with corndogs in less than an hour, and that was really putting you off the idea, that was until you heard josie say your name.

"Soo, have you spoken to hazel since school ended?"

Pj looks over at you with a shit eating grin on her face, "what she means to say is, have the two of you fucked yet?"

You roll your eyes at pj, not even dignifying her with an answer and turn your head to face josie, who was now stacking snapbacks on her head whilst looking in the mirror.

"To answer your question, yeah we've facetimed a few times and texted a lot."

"Oooo phone sex," pj giggles, "kinky."

You just flick pj in the head and begin applying your lipgloss.

Josie picks up one of the snapbacks from the floor and launches it at pjs head and instead misses and knocks over the mirror.

"Dude what the fuck." Pj hisses, standing up to go over to josies closet door to look at her outfit in the full length mirror, posing and checking herself out.

"Seriously though, when are you going to make a move?" Josie asks, backing away from pj and going to sit on the bed.

You look at her with a confused expression, "what do you mean, we're just friends."

Josie cocks her eyebrow and smirks, "please, you've been in love with her since 5th grade, you know it, I know it, pj knows it, pretty much everyone in a 10 mile radius can see it, except for hazel herself since she's an oblivious dork, but that's besides the point."

You go to answer but pj comes back over and sits back down next to you and you take the opportunity to escape and use the bathroom.

You take your time in there staring into the glass, turning your body around, checking that your hair is straight, your makeup looks good in natural lighting, oh and that your cleavage is poking through your tank top just enough, for no particular reason other than looking hot for yourself (well, that's what you told yourself anyways).

As you open the bathroom door to return to josies bedroom you hear pj and josie whispering, and being as nosy as you are, you press your ear up against the door to listen to what they're saying.

"Shhh she's gonna hear you" josie hushes.

"Shut up no she's not, that bitch couldn't hear a rocket land if it landed on the roof."

"How much did you say you wanna bet again?"

"50 bucks. If by the end of the school year they haven't fucked, I owe you 50 bucks, but if they have, you owe me 100."

"How the fuck does that work, why do I owe you double?"

"Because I'm fucking awesome... okay because I'm broke as hell and am gonna need the contribution for my homecoming dress so I can look sexy for brittany, duh."

"Yeah yeah whatever, its a deal, I think she's coming."

You once again roll your eyes at how pathetic they are. You swear to god that if you spent any more time with them than you already do, your eyes would permanently be fixed in the back of your head.

"Hey guys, you ready to go it's almost 8," you suggest as you open the door, "josie, what the hell do you think you're wearing?!"

"What do you mean?" She looks down confused at her spiritual playboy shirt, 5 carabiners hooked onto her pants' belt loops and her arm sling on her right arm.

"You look like dyke throw-up," pj cackles, standing up from the desk and following you both out of the bedroom door.

Josie looks back at pj as you're all walking down the stairs, "pj you can't say anything, look at you, you've got suspenders over your nipples like a goddamn freak."

Pj flips her off from behind her head and you can't help but giggle as you follow them out to the car and hop in the backseat.

"How'd you break your arm again josie?" You lean forward and ask as josie turns the keys and reverses out of her driveway.

"She flunked out of anti horny camp and fell out of her bunk rubbing one out," pj replies casually, looking down at her phone that displays brittanys Instagram posts from the summer, "fuck, she got even hotter over summer, how's that even possible?"

"Is isabel in any of the photos?" Josie questioned desperately, sneaking a peak down at pjs phone as she pulls up to a red light.

"God you're both pathetic."

You finally arrive to the fair, granted you're 20 minutes late because josie circled the parking lot at least 10 times as pj yelled at her to just fucking park, but josie wanted to make sure she could find a big enough spot.

You hand over your tickets and walk in, they're both muttering about something or other but you're not really listening, you're just scanning for hazel until you feel a tap on your shoulder and nearly jump out of your skin.

"Hey guys," hazel smiles, bringing you in for a hug, "long time no see, wait.. pj, josie, you never come to the fair?"

You point over at isabel and brittany standing a few feet away, where they had been gawking at them for the past 5 minutes.

"Ah, I see," She nods, I haven't seen you In ages I've missed you."

"Yeah.. me too," you blush, looking down at your shoes.

"Oh shit what happened to josies arm?"

"Masterbating."

"What, is her vagina made out of concrete or something?"

"No what? Hazel, she fell out of her bunk," pj scoffs.

"Can everyone please stop talking about my vagina?" Josie interjects.

"Soo hazel, what's this I hear about you volunteering at a slop farm?" Pj questions.

"The national meat association? Yeah it was good," hazel replies, "so did you guys get up to anything crazy over summer?"

"Yeah we killed this girl at camp for snitching on josie, got arrested, taken to Juvie and spent the rest of summer there, nearly died but they let us go when we told them that we're dykes and called them homophobic," pj explains sarcastically.

"What?! Are you guys okay?"

Josie facepalms.

You were about to explain that pj was being sarcastic when you hear cheering and you all look over to see Jeff appearing with the rest of the football team.

You all exchange disgusted looks and then pj notices that isabel and brittany are walking in your direction.

She snatches your corndog out of your hand and hands it to josie and then takes hazels cotton candy and hands her a wad full of tickets. Her and josie anxiously keep swapping the corndog and cotton candy mumbling to eachother until isabel and brittany are standing right infront of you all.

Josie drops her corndog, well actually YOUR corndog and kicks it away in hopes of isabel not noticing but both isabel and brittany look down and watch her do it, then look back up at her and raise their eyebrows.

"Hey can I uh, get my cotton candy back?" Hazel asks as she reaches forwards towards pj to grab it, but instead is hit in the head with it by pj who just ignores her and takes a bite out of it.

You look at hazel and shrug your shoulders, jerking your head to turn her attention back to the disaster of a conversation going on between the four of them.

"Oh hey, didn't see you there," brittany says to you poking her head round to look at you, "how's your summer been?"

"Yeah it's been good," you reply, "looking forward to cheering again though I've really missed it, what about you guys?"

"Yeah, I've been practicing all summer I'm really looking forward to getting back into it!" Isabel smiles, stepping forward.

The conversation goes on for a painful amount of time, every second making you want to gouge your eyeball out with a fork as you just make ridiculous faces at hazel, who just looks back at you the same way before giggling.

You went to follow pj and josie out to josies car when hazel quickly follows, "I can drive you home if you want, your on the way and I doubt you want to listen to another second of them babbling on about isabel and brittany."

"Yeah that would actually be great, thank you."

"No trouble at all," She says, "plus, it's an excuse to speak to you, we haven't had much of a chance to talk tonight."

She pulls out her car keys and unlocks her car, of course its a range rover. Her mom gave it to her as a pity gift when her dad left which obviously didn't fix the issue but hazel didn't complain and just accepted the car, even though she wasn't old enough to drive at the time, which her mom forgot because she barely pays any attention to her own daughter.

The drive is only 5 minutes long, since you live so close, so you don't get long to chat, but she tells you all about the meat association and the cool tshirt she got to wear, even showing you a photo when she pulls up on your driveway.

You lean over and give her a hug, "see you at school tomorrow?"

"Wouldn't miss it," She grins, "meet me outside to walk in together?"

"Wouldn't miss it."

Once you had kicked off your shoes and lazily removed your makeup, you got changed and plopped onto your bed.

Tonight was so chaotic yet for some reason you weren't thinking about pj and josies funny attempt at flirting or how they had made complete asses out of themselves, only about the drive home with hazel, how her hair blew in the wind, framing her face perfectly, how her hand gripped the steering wheel as she reversed out of the parking lot and how her eyes practically lit up when she was talking to you about her voluntary work over the summer.

You try to sleep but instead you lay awake for hours staring at your ceiling thinking about it. You simply cannot get her out of your head.

Huh. Maybe, just maybe, you did like hazel callahan? No. Surely not. Unless...

#hazel bottoms #hazel callahan #hazel callahan brainrot #bottoms 2023 #hazel callahan smut #hazel callahan x reader #bottoms movie #bottoms fanfic

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allwaswell16 · 7 months

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A fic rec of One Direction fics with a long distance relationship in an alternate universe as requested in this ask. If you enjoy the fics please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other fic recs here. Happy reading!

—Louis/Harry—

✈️ Darling, so it goes by @disgruntledkittenface

(E, 195k, Grace Kelly au) Harry Styles is a world-famous actor at the height of his career but a personal low point when he meets His Serene Highness Prince Louis of Monaco by chance.

✈️ Hold You Now by solvetheminourdreams / @cursethedaylight

(M, 131k, ex-fwb) When he accompanies his best friend to a family wedding across the Atlantic, he'll be forced to reopen old wounds and face his past—one that no one wants to hash out, but may just have to.

✈️ Heading for Limbo by @kingsofeverything

(E, 100k, friends to lovers) When Harry discovers some life-changing things about himself, Louis is there for him, however he needs. But it’s all temporary because Louis has plans that will move his life from New York all the way to L.A. and the distance isn’t the only thing between them.

✈️ Old Photographs & Times I'll Remember by @jaerie

(E, 54k, time travel) A camera, a suitcase, and a relationship forged through time.

✈️ Without you it's a season I ain't needing by @perfectdagger

(M, 38k, fashion designer Harry) A long distance relationship au in which Harry is away for a year and Louis is left to pick up the pieces.

✈️ Up On The Shore by wordsnnotes / @quelsentiment

(M, 33k, Eroda) Louis hides his feelings under sarcasm, Harry is too sweet for his own sake, everyone is a rebel, the mums are amazing, Harry's dad is a jerk

✈️ wait up, i'm coming home by @hattalove

(T, 28k, Italy) the one where louis finds harry, then loses him, then finds him again. a flawless performance from fate featuring some penguins, some celestial bodies, and a whole lot of tea.

✈️ some things fade (some never do) by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed

(T, 25k, magical tattoos) Three years after their break up, Harry calls.

✈️ Play (series) by @taggiecb

(E, 19k, famous/not famous) Right now he is working towards his before twenty five bucket list, and fate must have been smiling on him the day he won tickets for a show at Wembly, getting into one of the locker rooms is something he will have to think about later.

✈️ You're A Universe by Jiksa / @jiksax

(E, 15k, kid fic) Louis’s a stay-at-home dad in London and Harry’s a business expat in Qatar. Louis doesn’t know how much longer their marriage can survive the distance.

✈️ Paper Houses by @allwaswell16

(E, 11k, famous/famous au) When model Louis Tomlinson admits to having a celebrity crush on a very famous actor in an article in GQ magazine, he has no idea it will lead to anything.

✈️ Baby, I'm Right Here by @fallinglikethis

(E, 8k, drunken confessions) Harry and Louis are best friends who live on different continents and may or may not be in love with each other.

✈️ What Goes Up by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(NR, 5k, space) The six month program at the space station means a very long distance relationship and a very nervous Harry back on earth.

✈️ Talk the Night Through by @lululawrence

(NR, 4k, chat rooms) It's 1995 and a chat room is the last place Harry ever expects to find the love of his life.

✈️ With All My Surrendered Hearts by softandslow

(E, 4k, pwp) the one where they're long distance boyfriends, and Louis rides Harry while wearing his snapback.

✈️ Follow the sun by momentofclarity / @gaycousinlarry

(T, 3k, light angst) Louis feels like last night’s Skype call changed something though, even if the emotional distress is pretty common during their talks.

✈️ It's All Mixed Up! by orphan_account

(G, 2k, deck officer Louis) 4 times Louis' crew mates get sick of hearing about his "girl" and the one time when they finally meet the mystery lover.

✈️ until you’re home by @nouies

(E, 1k, pwp) Louis lives in London, Harry lives in Tokyo. They make it work.

✈️ Looking for Life Out There by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird

(T, 1k, girl direction) Doctoral candidate Harry Styles moves to Boston to complete her Ph.D. leaving her professor girlfriend behind in London.

—Rare Pairs—

✈️ The New Posh and Becks by mistresscurvy

(E, 28k, Liam/Louis) 2016 is a big year for solo artist Liam Payne. After his amazing experience on X Factor, releasing his own album and touring with Little Mix seems like the height of success. Then he meets Arsenal midfielder Louis Tomlinson at a charity event, and suddenly everything else fades into the background.

✈️ Oceans and waves and wires between us by becka

(E, 8k, Niall/Zayn) Niall wants to meet his online girlfriend, Veronica, and enlists the help of MTV's Catfish to do it.

#ficrec #1dficvillage #trackinghappily #trackinghome #tracksintheam #hltracks

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mixsethaddams · 2 months

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Reboosting for the day crowd!

I wrote three exchange fics for Valentines day and almost died when I lost two of them to a frozen computer on Monday 😸 BUT!!!! I’m so happy with them all and proud of the stories I told, and it makes my heart SAIL that the giftees enjoyed them too. So without further ado, my three Valentines exchange fics!

For the Omegaverse Valentines Day 2024 exchange:

Whose Worth’s Unknown

For the Steddie As She Goes Discord Exchange:

Steal the joy

And for the Twitter Steddie Valentines Day Exchange:

Snapback.

Five times Steve spends a Saturday night with Eddie while he's drunk, and one time he's completely sober.

#seth writes #steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #fic rec #eddie stranger things #steve stranger things #steve x eddie #steddie fic #my writing #valentines day exchanges #valentines day #omegaverse #modern au

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arrowofcarnations · 6 months

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Fic-O-Ween 2023 Day 1: First Frost

Happy fest, y’all! Here’s some Harvard-era FinnLo pining to ring in day one. Huge thank-yous to @lumosinlove for the Sweater Weather characters and universe and to @noots-fic-fests for organizing the fest!

Title: Love at First Fright Pairing: Finn O'Hara/Logan Tremblay Rating: G

“Trick or treat!”

Finn smiled at the ghost-witch-robot trio looking up at him and dropped three handfuls of candy into the plastic pumpkin pails they held up expectantly.

“Hey, nice costumes! Happy Halloween!”

The kids barely stood still long enough to say it back before they were taking off in the opposite direction of the frat house, eager to get back to their parents and hit up more treat stops around campus before dark. It was a good day for it; classic autumn in New England, from the crispness in the air to the red, brown and yellow leaves drifting down off the trees to cover the manicured grass in a vibrant seasonal blanket. Even the deep red of Harvard’s brick buildings seemed more beautiful in October, like they were meant to exist in a state of perpetual fall.

Throngs of local kids—and some of their parents—were all decked out in their Halloween best, while Finn and the rest of the OKN guys wore school-branded clothes while taking turns manning the candy-laden folding table outside the house between classes. (Finn wasn’t sure any of them owned a costume they could wear outside in broad daylight.)

He laughed as Percy walked over, refill bag in hand, wearing the exact same gray sweatshirt with a crimson HARVARD across the chest as he was, the same black joggers—almost the same sneakers. “Fashion.”

Percy grinned back at him. “You know it, baby.” He turned the bag upside down, dumping the candy into any bowls that weren’t full and spilling some across the table as he went.

“Yo, you’re getting jolly ranchers all over the ground.”

“You’re a fuckin’ jolly rancher.”

“You’re a fuckin’ kit-kat.”

“You’re a—”

“Shut up, there’s kids,” Will warned, then passed some treats to a tiny ballerina with a kind smile and a compliment for her costume.

“Oh shit, my bad,” Percy said, and Finn snorted as Will cuffed him on the side of the head.

Finn unwrapped a watermelon jolly rancher and popped it into his mouth as he watched students and families pass by. Percy nudged him with an elbow, getting his attention. “Where’s Tremz? Thought you were surgically fused at this point.”

“Fu—” he cut off as Will leveled the captain stare at him. “Heck off. He’s in his medieval history class, he’ll be back soon.”

“Speak of the French-Canadian devil,” Percy shouted as Logan walked up the path to the house, backpack on his shoulders and snapback on his head—backwards, per usual. He looked good in the crimson Harvard Hockey hoodie he was wearing; Finn’s eyes caught the fraying at the cuffs and his stomach swooped as he realized it was his, that Logan must’ve swiped it this morning before heading out.

“Bonjour,” Logan said, oblivious to the state of Finn’s internal organs.

“Bone-joor,” Percy replied before Finn could say it. “Very French of you. And shorts in October. Very Canadian of you.”

“We haven’t even had first frost yet.” Logan looked from Percy to Finn. “How much candy did you let him eat?”

“Too much,” Will answered for him. “Don’t you have class next, Marshy?”

After a complicated handshake with Finn that neared 15 seconds long, Percy grabbed his bag and took off at a slow jog. Finn wasn’t happy that he left, exactly, but he was happy that Logan walked around the table to take his spot right beside him.

“How’s that black plague treatin’ ya?” he asked as Logan slid his backpack off and under the table.

Logan’s eyes crinkled as he laughed. “Better than it’s treating medieval Europeans. But the reading is a little…”

He looked away—embarrassed, maybe, or frustrated. Finn knew he hated that English still tripped him up sometimes, though the amount he’d improved in just a few semesters was damn impressive. Finn kicked his shin lightly. “I got you. Would’ve flunked out last spring if it weren’t for you, so. Bring on the plagues.”

Logan kicked him back and sent him a grateful smile. And just because he couldn’t help it, Finn plucked at the sleeve of his hoodie. “Nice sweatshirt.”

“You left it on my chair,” Logan said, but Finn saw a little bit of color in his cheeks that he was pretty sure the afternoon chill didn’t put there.

It was a shoddy excuse, but so was Finn teasing him about it being “a little tight in the shoulders, Tremz, you gym beast” just so he could put a hand on one of those broad shoulders and squeeze. Logan was warm and so solid even through the layers; his hand lingered just a second too long before he let it fall away.

The next half hour passed quickly as trick-or-treaters came and went. The sun had just started to sink lower in the sky when a girl who couldn’t have been older than five or six walked up to the table, her guardian hanging back a ways. She had a hockey jersey on and was carrying her helmet, probably tired of wearing it around.

She was closing in on Logan, who’d ended up on the opposite end of the long folding table as Finn at some point, when the big animatronic ghoul in front of the porch lurched and let out its tinny scream. The girl jumped, looking terrified, and tears filled her wide brown eyes.

“Oh,” Finn heard Logan say softly; his brow was knitted with concern as he walked quickly out from behind the table and crouched down in front of her. “I’m sorry. We didn’t mean to scare you.”

The girl didn’t say anything, just turned to look at her adult and then back at Logan. It seemed like she was trying not to run away.

Logan nodded at her jersey. “You play hockey?”

She nodded.

“Me too. All these guys are on my team. What’s your favorite position to play?”

That drew her out of her shell. “Goalie,” she said with a quiet confidence as she tucked her hair behind her ear.

“I see. You know what I know about goalies?” The girl shook her head, but clearly looked interested at whatever Logan was about to say. He leaned in like he was telling a secret, then said, “They’re the bravest ones. Also the craziest.”

Finn’s chest warmed at the way she laughed, at how Logan had gotten her from near-tears to happy and chatting in no time at all. He never got to see Logan with little kids; all their siblings were older. It was nice. It was sweet. It was doing things to Finn’s heart that he’d rather not think about.

In the end, the little girl—Harper, she told Logan as he filled her candy pail until it was overflowing, then filled her helmet, too—skipped away in a great mood. Logan was still smiling a little after they’d gone as Finn walked over to him.

“She was cute.”

Logan nodded. “Ouais.”

“You, too.” It was out of his mouth before he could shove it back in. Logan raised an eyebrow at him. “You were cute with her,” he explained—not that that really made it better.

But Logan looked pleased that he’d said so, even as he shrugged. “It’s not hard when they’re adorable. She said she’s a goalie.”

“Oh, so the skeleton thing should’ve been afraid of her.”

Logan laughed. “That’s kind of what I told her.”

Finn wanted to say so much. You’re cute all the time. You should only wear my hoodies. You’ll make a great dad someday. I want to share that someday with you.

Instead, he took Logan’s hat off and ruffled his hair. “Dinner?” he asked. “Burgers? Hog’s Head?”

Logan took his hat back and put it back on, but he wasn’t even pretending to be annoyed. “Ouais, let’s go now before they make us clean up.”

As they snuck off behind the house toward the pub, Finn took a handful of cherry jolly ranchers out of his pocket and put them in Logan’s. Logan laughed, then did the same for Finn with the watermelon ones.

“Happy Halloween, Tremz.”

“Happy Halloween, Harzy.”

#sweater weather lumosinlove #vaincre lumosinlove #coast to coast lumosinlove #breakaway lumosinlove #finnlo #o'knutzy #my fic #ficoween 2023

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awmancreeper · 1 year

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ミ★Just Say You Love Me</3

Synopsis:

★ Kai’s friends roast him for not being in a relationship since he was 12. While Y/n tries to avoid getting into a relationship every week. One day Kai spots a familiar girl hiding in a tree finding out she was hiding from her 2nd confession that week. After hearing the university’s IT girl struggles Hyuka comes up with a plan.

But what happens when y/n isn't the girl everyone made her out to be?

PAIRING: Huening Kai X Fem.Reader

Fic Type: Social Media AU + Written Parts(kinda long)

Genre: University AU, Fluff, Some!Angst, “strangers” to lovers, FAKE!DATING, SLOW BURN!!, mutual!Pinning!, opposites attract? Unrequited Love?

⚠︎︎Warning: swearing,suggestive parts mention of sex but nothing explicit, Drinking alcohol(being drunk), mention of mental health/mental illnesses, mention of cheating, mention of food!. The following jokes will be used: kys, ur mom, deez nuts, abandonment , virgin

Featuring: the rest of TXT, yeji (itzy), Sunoo & Ni-Ki (Enhypen, the other member are briefly mentioned), Wonyoung (IVE), PopUs: Straykids, rest of IVE

Status: COMPLETE

Started: Feb 2023

Ended: May 2023

Profiles

Pretty Faces / Psych Ward Escapees

✪Chapters

1. Taking Ankles

☙1.5 like a Baka

2. Virgin 🫵🏻

3. Hunting Wabbits

4. Mint Choco Latte

5. Got The Whole GC Laughin’

6. ✨Pretend Boyfriend✨

7. Something New

8. Into the Trenches

9. Sorry Moms

10. Two of Us

11. Piss, Shit, Cum

12. McKidding Me

13. Hot Moms

14. Best Kicks

15. New Best friend

☙15.5 FELL for Him

16. Sugar Plum has entered the chat

17. For the Plot

18. Rich Rich

19. Get in Loser

20. T as in Troy

21. BIG Balls

22. His Sky

23. Charlie Charlie

❦ 23.5 Fight em’

24. New Friends

25. Delulu Era

26. Chronically Awkward

27. Somebody’s Someone

❦ 27.5 Hit List

28. Ridiculously BIG

29. Aw Shit Here We Go Again

❦ 29.5 PRETY

30. SnapBacks

31. Never Love You

32. M.I.A

33. Angel

34. I Quit

❦34.5 The Homies

35. End of the World

36. Gamer Sweat

37. Raid Shadow Legends

38: POV: you have no friends

39. peachy.rei

40. (An Empath)

41. Oopsie Poopsie

42. Snot Bubbles

❦42.5 But A Trim

43. I Know I Love You

EPILOGUE

#tomorrow x together #kpop #kpop smau #huening kai #hyuka x reader #university au #txt #fluff #fem reader #unrequited affection #fake dating #huening txt

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shu-box-puns · 10 months

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You wanna be one of them (Tsu’tey x Reader) Act 5

Previous chapter <- Act 5 -> Next Chapter

If you prefer to read on Ao3, you can find the fic here!

Word Count: 9071

Summary: Recovery

Reader uses they/them pronouns.

Tsu’tey was a terrible patient.

He was stubborn, and rude, and jittery, and most of the time, half delirious with pain. Then in the next heartbeat, he’d be back to his crabby, grumpy old self. Deflecting your attempts to feed him and dishing out insults to anyone who looked at him with sympathy. He’d shrug off all attempts at comfort, snapping some half assed excuse about him being a hunter and a grown ass man.

You made sure to baby him just to piss him off. Since it was hilarious and he would only sometimes snapback. The rest of the time - when he was particularly tired - he was fucking adorable. Literally melting into your touch when you tended to him. Making stupid pouting faces when you pulled away, to which you immediately felt compelled to pull him close again and spoil the shit out of him.

If he wasn’t so out of it, you would’ve suspected that he was taking advantage of your weak spot for him.

And the rest of the time, he was an infuriating little shit.

He’d developed a terrible habit of wandering off throughout the day. Just silently slipping away when your back was turned. And the funny thing was, you wouldn’t even notice until you found him roaming around the camp.

It was literally like babysitting a child.

He’d either be attempting to bribe the people into letting him help with chores, or you’d receive an exasperated comms call from Jake that he’d found his way back up to the compound.

Everytime, you’d groan and dutifully go find him to drag him back to his designated sleeping mat.

Mo’at on the other hand, did not stand for his bullshit.

She was firm in the face of Tsu’tey’s excuses. Lecturing him about the dangers of infection whilst dressing his wounds. Smacking him upside the head when she caught him trying to do physical work whilst recovering. And then she’d haul him back to his mat and order you to keep a better eye on him, with an expression that left no room for argument.

It was exhausting work.

But Mo’at also had her moments of softness.

She’d look pissed the entire time, but when she noticed Tsu’tey was genuinely growing restless, her more motherly instincts would abruptly take the wheel. You could do nothing but stare as she wordlessly stormed up to your shared campfire one night, and without a greeting, promptly dumped a bag of beads into Tsu’tey’s lap. The Olo’eyktan got no chance to thank her for the beads or the fresh twine because she’d already turned on her heels and hurried off.

Tsu’tey glanced at you in confusion, to which you could only shrug and go back to cooking dinner.

It was a simple solution but effective, you realised when Tsu’tey’s fidgeting abruptly decreased in frequency. He stopped trying to insist on helping you with the food, and instead lost himself in rummaging through the bead pouch.

Mo’at’s collection was extensive.

The hand carved beads came in such a variety of colours and shapes and weights that you couldn’t fathom where they came from. And Tsu’tey instantly got swept up in his own personal projects for a while, mindlessly creating jewellery that seemed to disappear every time they were finished.

<”Are you making a bracelet?”> You asked one evening, noticing that this particular piece was the matching version to a choker he wore before he became Olo’eyktan.

Tsu’tey shook his head. <”You’ll see.”> And offered no further information on the piece.

At least he kept you occupied with his antics.

Which led you to now, preparing the evening meal whilst Tsu'tey dutifully weaved another jewellery piece on the other side of the fire. The flames made the beads in his braided hair shine, distracting you from your task of properly grilling the meat. You were so caught up in watching him that you almost missed when the alarm sounded.

It was subtle. A sharp whistle from the forest, that had you instinctively rising to your feet; dinner momentarily forgotten. Out of your peripheral, you saw a couple other hunters do the same, grabbing their bows and rising from their crouches. Your tail thrashed impatiently, glancing to the others who each waited with bated breath.

The next whistle was a single note, easily mistaken for a bird call. A confirmation of a threat. The call for backup.

Abruptly, the clan went silent.

You yanked your knife from its sheath, ears pinning back as the other hunters quickly started moving for the treeline.

Across the fire, Tsu’tey was trying to get to his feet, but you were fast to put a stop to it. Eyes still on the trees, you pressed him back into his seat with a firm hand to his shoulder. <”Stay here.”> You ordered, to which he growled.

<”I am-”> <”Injured.”> You cut in sharply. <”Stay here or I’m gonna make Jake sit on you.”> The man in question had unlinked several hours ago to rest up, but you knew that if you radioed, he’d be back in minutes.

Tsu’tey made to argue, but you had already caught the gaze of a scowling na’vi woman. She jutted her chin towards the forest, you nodded. On silent feet, she crept towards the trees and melted into the shadows with only the smallest ruffle of leaves.

Knife held at chest height, you followed. Your hand slipped from Tsu’tey’s shoulder as you kept moving; your footfalls light. Keeping low, you slipped between the tree trunks, ears flicking to and fro as you listened to the hunters at your back.

The woman from before held her hand out to still your movements, motioning with her other hand to the enemy. It was an unsuspecting squad of marines. All wearing exo packs and armed to the teeth. They trampled the foliage around them, heads on a swivel, but the na'vi hunters remained undetected.

The hand blocking your path dropped as the woman readied her weapon, she motioned to the left. You nodded. You would go right and follow them as she and a couple others blocked off their escape.

This time, you had no one to protect. The Clan had enough warriors left to easily keep the wounded safe. You could give into that underlying instinct, the one that urged you to defend your home, your people.

This was exactly what you needed. An adrenaline boost. Something to kill. Something to focus on that wasn’t personal.

The marines tried to be stealthy. Tried to blend into the glowing plants only for their army attire to make them stand out more. For the lights to reflect off their guns and give them away.

You didn’t feel bad as you stalked the closest one to you.

He was oblivious to your slow movements. Three of his fast paced steps equated to one footfall of your own. You were on him in moments. There was a gap in the leaves. Enough to keep you concealed, whilst being wide enough for you to reach through.

You didn’t bother to stand.

Shifting your weight, you thrust your hand through the opening, grabbed him by the collar of his army jacket and yanked him screaming into the foliage, where he collided with the poised tip of your knife. Feeling the weapon slip into his body with an audible pop and a hiss, you yanked upwards. Grimacing as his screams cut off.

The other marines yelled. Several swivelled to your hiding spot, but you were moving before they could open fire. Hands to the ground, you expertly knuckle-walked out of range.

Your eyes fell to a second soldier. To his wide open back as he stood on the edge of the group, barking orders. Clearly the sergeant. You adjusted your knife into a more comfortable grip and went for the kill.

>_<

You washed off in a stream after dragging the bodies away from the camp with the rest of the hunters. Patting each other on the back for a job well done, you rinsed your knife before following them back to the Well of Souls.

The Omaticaya had established their camp around the Tree of Souls, whereas the other clans had pitched similar campsites in the surrounding area. How the Sky People had stumbled upon your camp first was odd.

The clan was preparing breakfast when your little group broke out of the treeline. The sun peering out from behind the moon to signal a new day.

You headed towards the fire you’d been sharing with Tsu’tey during eclipse, only to find him gone and his mat devoid of anyone. Groaning aloud to yourself, you diverted your attention to the other fires. Thankfully, a kind mother took pity on you and pointed you in the direction of a fire with four figures already tucked around it.

Nodding your gratitude, you picked your way across the camp towards the group. Jake had returned to his avatar, and was helping Mo’at roast fresh fish over the flames. Whilst Neytiri and Tsu’tey were engaged in a venomous staring contest. The latter was pouting as you approached, perched on a log with enough space for you to plop down next to him. Jake nodded in acknowledgement as Neytiri sharpened her arrows.

Mo’at fixed you with an unblinking stare as you got comfortable. <”It is done?”> <”Yes Tsahik. No, injuries to the people.”> She hummed.

<”You have done well.”>

Internally preening at the praise, you flickered your attention from the cooking fish to Tsu’tey’s face. <”What crawled up your ass?”>

The look of pure confusion and disgust that crossed his face, abruptly banished the look that he’d sucked on a particularly sharp lemon.

Meanwhile, Mo’at let out a soft chuckle. She lifted the tip of her stick from the flames and jabbed lightly at Tsu’tey’s knee with the end. <”He attempted to follow.”> Tsu’tey glared at her, swatting at the stick which she was quick to retract and tap him on the head with instead. His ears pinned back at the unspoken reprimand. <”He only made it four steps before Neytiri caught him and dragged him back.”>

You laughed. <”I told you to stay put.”> <”I am no coward.”> He insisted, to which you playfully rolled your eyes. Then he turned to Neytiri who pretended not to sense his withered glare. <”I want my bow back.”>

<”Where is your bow?”> Tsu’tey’s ear flickered in your direction, but he didn't respond, and instead kept chewing on his lip as his knees curled closer to his chest.

It was Neytiri’s turn to snort as she pointed to the hanging vines of the Tree of Souls at her back. Your gaze followed the motion, climbing up the branches to find Tsu’tey’s bow tied to one of the higher limbs. It was expertly placed. Well out of reach and a tough climb for someone recovering from being shot.

<”Why didn’t I think of that?”> You commented absently, to which Tsu’tey growled, shoved at your arm, forcing you off of your shared log. You laughed, watching the furious whip of his tail. <”Cranky bastard.”>

<”Idiot.”> He fired back reflexively.

<”Of course. Of course.”> You waved him off, dusting your ass off before going to sit next to Mo’at who moved over on her log to give you room. You turned your attention to Jake who had been watching the encounter with a small smile of amusement. “Any further developments with Selfridge?”

The mischievous grin was swiftly wiped from Jake’s expression, instead replaced with the cold, calculating gaze of Toruk Makto. The look reminded you of a simpler time. Of a man in a wheelchair with nothing to lose and a one way ticket out of hell.

Internally, you wondered if you’d changed as drastically as Jake. If Pandora had transformed you for the better by moulding you into one of her warriors, or healed some of the damage your past life had inflicted on you. Or maybe you were the same idiot from eleven months ago, who had signed a contract and your life away with a grin.

Jake’s summarised explanation of the plans drew you from your internal dilemma. It turned out that Max and Norm had taken over Hell’s Gate and were manning the mother compound until the na'vi tribes came to a collective agreement on what was to be done with the surviving humans. So far, the most popular solution was to make them pack up and send them back to where they came from.

The simple way in which he explained the procedure had your heart pounding. Jake spoke so matter-of-factly that you knew deep in your bones there would be no exceptions. The na’vi wanted their world back, and would stop at nothing to have it returned to Eywa for her to heal.

Your mind drifted to earth. To the rundown apartment you’d sold and the belongings you’d given to your family members so they could remember you, the rest quickly dropped off at charity shops or claimed by friends. You recalled the same boring routine, the longing for something more. The claustrophobic tightness of the cities and the bustle of life. The exhaustion it took to keep going.

Pandora had been a one way ticket to a second chance.

There was nothing left for you on earth, but it appeared you had thoroughly outstayed your welcome here.

Deep down, you knew that you didn’t belong on Pandora. For all your training and time spent amongst the People, you were still a visitor. A demon masquerading in a scientifically generated body. Your five fingered hands were proof enough of that.

With the Avatar Programme discontinued permanently, there was no reason for you to stick around. The na'vi could heal you and pretend you were one of them, but you all knew that the moment the leaders finalised a deal with Selfridge, you and the rest of the human race would be shipped back to Earth where you belonged.

Jake leaned into your line of vision, blocking your fuzzy stare at the fire. His eyes searched your face, and you worked to school your expression into something more neutral. “Maybe you should unlink soon. It’s been a lot of hours.” He commented.

Although his concern was touching, there was a lot to get done. “I wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway. Might as well stick around for a bit.”

He frowned but didn’t push. You kept your head down, even as the conversation drifted to more domestic matters. And soon after, you stopped listening altogether. Your mind wandering elsewhere to the hum of the People and the sounds of the forest.

>_<

Most of your time was spent in your avatar, absorbing the sights and sounds of Pandora with greedy interest, conscious that there was a time limit for how much longer you could stay.

You busied yourself helping the People recover from the war. Utilising your working body, you were appointed on patrols combing the forest for RDA survivors, and helped cook in the evenings. It was a simple way of life. A task that needed doing, that helped keep your mind and body occupied so you didn’t spiral.

Currently, you were bent by the fire, mending a broken weapons belt, with Jake clumsily sewing beside you. The leather in your hands had been warped from age, the strong stitches already removed so you could reinforce the material with new fibres before reconnecting it all.

Across from you, Jake was struggling to keep the stitches even and his bone needle threaded. He held the small object as one would hold something disgusting, with only his thumb and forefinger. You were finding his struggles and soft curses too amusing to correct his hand positioning. The garment he was mending could always be reused for scraps if he fucked it up too bad.

Redirecting your attention to the belt, you bit back a grin as Jake let fly another series of strongly worded curses and threw up his hands in a huff. The garment in his lap flopped to the floor, the uneven stitches coming loose. Jake threw the bone needle (now unthreaded) down onto the heap in defeat, looking close to tears.

“Not a fucking word.” He snarled, you ducked your head, pressing your chin to your chest to keep the obvious amusement from your expression.

“I didn’t say shit.”

“I could hear you sniggering.”

You had no argument to defend yourself there, and were quickly saved when a shadow fell over you and blocked your light. Squinting up at the na’vi looming over you, you grinning at Tsu’tey’s arched eyebrows.

“Brother, come and help me.” Jake begged, showing the Olo'eyktan his bone needle and the mess of stitching in his lap. Tsu’tey glanced judgmentally from the marine to his poor craftsmanship.

“Perhaps we should keep you on guard duty or with the hunting parties.” Tsu’tey suggested bluntly. Jake nodded his agreement, offence be damned when he could be doing something a lot more successfully. “But they have already been assigned today.” Tsu'tey continued quickly, watching with glee as Jake visibly deflated.

You grinned, returning to weaving the fibres into the belt. The shadow of Tsu’tey did not move, in fact, the Olo'eyktan decided he needed a closer inspection of your work to decide whether you were doing good enough as he dropped into a crouch at your side. You allowed his curiosity, but could feel yourself sweating as you fumbled in keeping the fibres straight and your stitches even.

Gradually, Tsu’tey drew too close to your hands, to the point where you could barely see what you were doing. Momentarily forgetting yourself, you shoved at his forehead with your hand, pushing his face away so you could see. Tsu'tey froze, taken aback by the forward gesture, and you abruptly remembered your place.

He was the Olo’eyktan now, not some headstrong warrior trying to annoy you.

Not one to show vulnerability or doubt however, you armoured your response with an insult. <“You’re so nosy.”> You found yourself muttering, before turning back to your work, ears flattened to your skull.

Tsu’tey remained motionless, struggling for a response. You wanted to curl up and die. <“Someone has to make sure you’re not making it worse.”> He eventually replied with, returning the jab with his own.

Forgetting yourself again, you grinned. <“Asshole.”>

He snapped his teeth playfully beside your ear instead of responding, to which you swatted at him again.

>_<

A choked off moan from across the fire had your ears flattening to your head and your thumb slipping on the tough shell of the nut you were attempting to deshell. Curling in on yourself, you tried in vain to keep your attention laser focused on the task at hand. You already had a serving leaf piled high with unshelled nuts to your left, and only a few remaining.

A cut off gasp had your gaze snapping up.

Jake and Neytiri were furiously making out across the fire. Their bioluminescent freckles vibrant as a hundred stars against the rising moon, tails flicking and eyes glowing in the weak firelight.

From experience over the last several months, but from this week in particular, you had discovered that the Omaticaya were very forward with their affections for one another. Many of the mated couples who had been reunited after the war had taken to getting reacquainted within full view of the rest of the clan, who simply continued on with their tasks for the day.

You tried not to care like everyone else, but old customs and standards were hard to shake.

Jake let out a startled groan, Neytiri’s hand travelling south, and that was definitely the last straw.

“For fuck sake you two.” You growled, reminding the pair of your presence. True to form, Jake leapt back, cheeks ablaze and his chest heaving, whilst Neytiri fixed you with a withered glare. You scowled back. “If you’re going to be horny teens, go into the forest where I can’t see you.” You ordered, pointing to the glowing plants a few feet away.

“Jealous?” Jake taunted, leaning in once more to press a soft kiss to Neytiri’s lips before pulling away - much to her annoyance - and settling into a crouch.

“Of Neytiri? Not a chance. You kiss weird.” You retorted without missing a beat, eyes returned to the task at hand.

“And you can do better?”

“It’s kind of unfair to insinuate a challenge when I am at a clear disadvantage.” You argued, before Jake’s mind could drift too far away from the topic at hand.

“I’d say the playing field is reasonably even.” Jake replied simply, making a point to look at Tsu’tey conversing with Mo’at across the way. Neytiri was grinning as you gave the pair the finger and went back to peeling the nuts for dinner.

At least they kept off each other this time, as your little campsite lapsed back into silence, content to cuddle instead of eat one another. You appreciated the gesture.

As you were finishing up, a hand landed on your shoulder, rubbing firmly as Tsu’tey sank into a crouch beside you. You greeted him with a grin, to which he pressed your thighs more closely together, his hand gliding down your arm to motion to the nut you were failing to peel. With your thumbs aching, you handed it over easily before taking up the stirring stick to check on the meat cooking over the flames. You pointedly ignored Jake’s grin.

>_<

The day arranged for the first major meeting with Max and Norm finally came with dawn dragging its heels. Thanks to Jake’s insistence, you managed to link quickly enough to see the party off.

If all went well, they would return within the day in time for dinner. If not, Jake would keep you updated later that night.

The trio were set to ride to the compound on pa’li to finalise the date for the evacuation, a meeting you were internally grateful to be missing out on. An easy excuse and a small mercy, since you weren’t leaping at the idea of going back to Hell’s Gate any time soon.

The question regarding what would happen to your avatar afterwards, still plagued your subconsciousness, but you pushed it down as you approached the party readying their pa’li. Your three friends among their numbers as they fastened weapons to their bodies and checked their supplies.

One of the warriors accompanying the group had Norm’s avatar strapped to his pa’li. The body had taken a while to heal from the injuries it had sustained, but under Mo’at’s methodical care, was more than ready to return to its driver.

Tsu’tey was the first to notice you, motioning you over despite already being deep in conversation with Mo’at. Approaching slowly to give them time to finish up, you watched Mo’at nod to herself before patting Tsu’tey on the shoulder, her tone reassuring despite you not being able to make out her words.

As you drew within earshot, Mo’at pulled away. She nodded politely to you before disappearing back towards the Tree of Souls, her beads clicking together as she passed.

Tsu’tey drew himself up to his full height, you straightened in kind, mirroring his uneasy expression as he inhaled a deep calming breath. Shit. Was all you could think, unused to such tension in his expression when usually he was calm and collected.

Tsu’tey turned to you. Your muscles tensed for a fight. Then he moved towards his pack, secured to the flank of his pa’li, and rummaged around for a moment. His ears perked as he found whatever he was looking for and turned back to you.

<“For you.”> He said simply, grabbing your hand and dropping a carved bead into your palm. You stilled, expression blank as you inspected the small, white object which symbolises so much within the culture of the na’vi. Tsu’tey remained silent as you brought the bead closer to your face to inspect it.

It was gorgeous. The texture was smooth and even from the skill of talented hands. Whereas it had been painstakingly carved to fit snugly within one of your braids, a detailed carving of a roaring ikran decorating the exterior. You wanted to cry.

<“To commemorating your fallen companion.”> Tsu’tey explained to fill the silence. It was such a small gesture, but it meant more than words could hope to express. The other warriors had adorned their hair with new beads weeks ago to celebrate their success from the war and to mourn those that they had lost. <“I assumed you would be too busy to make it yourself. And judging by your skill with mending, it wouldn’t have turned out as you would want it.”>

You nodded along to his rambling, touched by the thought behind such a precious gift. A token worthy of symbolising the memory of your beloved ikran.

<“Thank you.”> You breathed, he stopped talking.

<“Do you not like it? I can make another.”> Tsu’tey hurriedly said, alarmed by the glossy sheen to your eyes. You shook your head, the bead clutched tightly to your chest.

<“It is beautiful.”> You reassured him. The tension in his body melted away at the confirmation.

<“I am glad.”>

<“Will you help me put it in?”> You asked boldly, <“do you have time?”>

He grinned, gesturing for the bead which you handed over happily. <“Which braid?”> Tsu’tey asked, waiting patiently for you to blindly rake through your braids to find a shorter one near the front that wouldn’t let the bead get swallowed up by the rest of your hair.

You offered it to him and Tsu’tey nodded, stepping closer to carefully fasten to bead into place at eye level. It stood out like a star in the sky against the raven black of the rest of your hair, the carved ikran displayed proudly for all to see.

<“Tsu’tey we need to get moving.”> Jake prompted from the back of his pa’li as the rest of the warriors also mounted up. The chief gave them a dismissive wave to tell them he was coming but did not instantly pull away.

<“It suits you.”> He complimented, earning him a playful push.

<“Be safe.”> You replied, voice stern. <“I expect you to come back in one piece, or I’m going to kill you myself.”> You made a point to gland down to the fresh bandages covering his chest, lips pinched.

He laughed, his face lighting up with the force of it. <“Stay out of trouble.”> He ordered with no heat to it as he pulled you close, touching your foreheads together. You couldn’t find it in you to resist or care. It wasn’t a kiss or a tsaheylu, but it was perfect. And probably the most intimate you could allow.

Wrapping your arms loosely around his waist, you pulled him closer by his hips, eyes closing with the firm press of your foreheads. He responded in kind, hands finding purchase on the small of your back. Internally, you revelled in the strength beneath your fingertips.

<“Come on.”> Neytiri called impatiently. <“You can do this later once we get back.”>

And just like that the illusion was shattered. Tsu’tey pulled away, his tone clipped as he replied sharply in na’vi, making Neytiri stick her tongue out.

Mo’at drifted back over to reassure Tsu’tey that she had everything under control in his absence. Her eyes caught on the bead, and you were POSITIVE she smirked this time. Her gaze flickered to Tsu’tey, and something wordless passed between the Olo’eyktan and Tsahik before her attention returned to you.

<”Come. There is much to do.”>

>_<

You spent the day helping out around camp and your night packing. Most of your personal touches to the link room had already been neatly packed away in your old bag and shoved under the unit when you found yourself staring blankly at the bag rather than being productive. You still needed to check the hallway and kitchen for traces of yourself.

Jake rolled out of his link unit whilst you were making dinner.

“I feel like we haven’t talked in ages.” Jake joked as he wheeled into the kitchen. He was glowing with the internal delight of a job well done, indicating things were starting to head in the right direction. You made a non-committal sound, already reaching for another portion of rations to put in the microwave for him.

“I saw you this morning.” You argued without turning.

It was Jake’s turn to hum in agreement, before the two of you allowed the hum of the small machine to fill the silence as he approached the table. It was littered with various reports, boring notes and half-finished documents that would never be submitted to HR.

“How did it go?”

“They leave before the end of this moon cycle.” Jake replied easily. You nodded. Less than a month left then.

“He missed you today.”

Your head snapped up to level him with a searching look at the random declaration. Jake was already smiling, apparently finding your reaction amusing. You both knew who he was referring to.

“If Norm wanted to see me, he could literally call.” You deflected, motioning to the communicator mounted on the wall.

Jake rolled his eyes before fixing you with a look that said it all. “Alright then. Tsu’tey missed you today. He was acting super crabby.”

You scoffed, “definitely sounds like him.”

“He was pouting a lot.” Jake added gleefully, not bothering to suppress his grin.

“What are you? My spy?”

“I have eyes.” “I’d expect avatar eyes to work better than that.”

Jake kissed his teeth and lent back in his chair. He let the silence sit for a moment, but you knew he wasn’t going to drop the subject that easily. “So when are you planning on making a move? Because at this rate-”

Your back straightened with an audible crack of your spine.

Slowly, you turned to him in disbelief, lips drawn into a firm scowl. Such ideas - fantasies - had only been a figure of the mind, active when the nights were long and your mind wandered. You had never voiced your attraction to Tsu’tey out loud and had been careful to not give anything away in how you acted around him. Not only were the chances of your feelings being returned severely low, you knew it couldn’t work out. Between the whole avatar thing and your impending return to Earth, it wouldn’t be fair to pursue anything.

Unlike Jake who had charged into his relationship and later mated with Neytiri with no regard for her future, you would not allow yourself to put Tsu’tey in such a position.

“I’m not.”

Jake stilled. “You’re not?” The arrogance from before had entirely melted off of his face, replaced with confusion. “What, because he needs to ask you? Or it isn’t the right time?” You didn’t want to give him a response. Jake wheeled closer, eyes intense. “What’s stopping you?”

You almost laughed. “Because what’s the point? In a month, none of this will even matter.”

A beat of silence. “You’re planning on leave?” The utter betrayal in Jake’s tone made you do a double take.

No. You wanted to roar.

“Am I?” You asked, suddenly unsure.

Jake was already shaking his head.

“But you said ALL humans, dimwitt.”

“It was implied you weren’t gonna be one of the ones leaving.”

You frowned. “Could’ve started with that.”

He chuckled sheepishly. “But it was obvious.” He argued. You’re one of them. You literally fought side by side with the rest of us. You’ve proven yourself.”

“Hey, I didn’t want to go,” you interjected, “I just assumed-” “Yeah well, clearly that’s where you went wrong.” He cut in sharply. Then checked his tone. His gaze was serious when he established eye contact again, and you knew in your bones that he wasn’t lying. “You’re an idiot.” He stated simply.

“Your point?”

He shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. “Did you seriously think you were going to get away that easily? Neytiri would have my ass if I even put you back on compound grounds, compared to the hell Tsu’tey would raise if you left. He’d be insufferable. God, even Mo’at would have some choice words to share if that happened.”

The sound of the microwave aggressively beeping halted the flow of conversation. Rising from the table, you took the steaming meal from the machine and placed it down on the table in front of your friend. “Bon appetit.” Turning back to the counter, you pulled down a second microwave meal and shoved that in to cook for several minutes.

“What I’m saying is-”

“Please stop talking.”

“You’re staying.” Jake pressed on with an edge of amusement in his tone. “You might as well get your finger out and start wooing him before he takes matters into his own hands.”

“He won’t.”

“Bit late for that.” Jake laughed. “But fuck around and find out.”

You did not like the sound of that.

>_<

You relinked with no plan and one goal, to find yourself in your usual resting spot cradled between the roots of the Tree of Souls. As usual, your heightened senses in this world swept in like a wave, bringing with it the movements of the camp early in the morning and the sight of Tsu’tey bedded down not far from your side.

He looked peaceful in sleep, all the stress of his position swept away by dreams. Set aside like the ceremonial jewellery piled to the side of his mat.

Your earlier intentions fizzle out in the face of his sleeping expression. Clearly, yesterday had been a long and tiring day, despite the bountiful success it had brought with it.

Sitting up, your eyes caught on a lit fire not far from you with food already cooking, a small group of people chatting and poking the flames.

Knowing you wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep and remain present, you decided it was time to get up and rose soundlessly to your feet. You were sheathing your hunting knife to the strap across your chest, when rustling behind you alerted your senses to someone getting up.

<“You’re back.”> Tsu’tey greeted, turning over to face you properly, sprawled out across his mat.

<“Good morning to you too. Did the trip go alright?”>

He motioned with his hand as if to wave away the memories of the previous day. <“I’m sure Jake-Sully already told you everything?”>

You flushed, choosing to ignore the part of the evening that revolved heavily around your feelings for this man, instead of the political side of things. <“Bits and pieces.”>

Tsu’tey watched you from his spot on the ground, gaze hungrily drinking you in as you stretched the stiffness from your muscles. You were surprised to see the expression so obviously on his face. Perhaps it was because Jake had finally dragged you from the depths of denial to believe that you could have this. Could have him if you worked for it.

“Jake?” Neytiri’s voice called from across the clearing, you turned, finding your friend struggling to hold up the man in question, his head lulling dangerously. Your mind immediately shot to the worst case scenario; to intruders in the compound.

Tsu’tey sat up, ears flicking as he watched Neytiri struggle to keep Jake’s body upright. From what you could see, he was still in there, clutching at her as his legs gave in. Your heart pounded as you took an unconscious step closer. Jake’s eyes were rolling in his head, fingers weakening. Neytiri was still clutching him, fingers biting into his skin.

At your back, Tsu’tey had also scrambled to his feel.

<”What’s wrong?”> He called across the camp, taking off at a light jog towards the pair.

You followed at a slower pace. Eyes pinned to Jake’s face, waiting for him to recover. With your own link working fine, and him being in the least glitchy one, you didn’t have a clue what was going on. You had never been a technical person. Even the video logs at the beginning of your stay on Pandora had been a challenge.

All your musing was cut short at the sight of Jake going slack.

All the strength melting out of him.

Despite Neytiri’s best attempts, he slumped to the floor lifeless. If you hadn’t witnessed this particular phenomenon multiple times, you would’ve feared he was dead.

Neytiri let out a panicked shout as she followed her mate down, cradling his motionless face.

Tsu’tey froze in place. Then spun on his heel and sprinted back to you. Somehow he managed to clock onto what was happening before you did.

Your vision swam, but not from lack of air.

One breath you were in the clearing, your legs stiffening up and your hands flying out in front of you to slow your fall, the next you were in the link unit, shoving open the lid and throwing yourself into the room.

“We’re okay!” Jake yelled from across the room. “It’s a power cut!” You sagged, the adrenaline spike ebbing away with the simple, non-threatening explanation.

“Thank fuck.”

“Tell me about it.” Jake replied merrily, huffing as he hauled himself out of his unit and into his waiting wheelchair. You flopped back down into your own unit, willing your heart rate to slow as you stared at the ceiling.

“We definitely just looked like idiots.” You breathed, realising what a scene the pair of you had caused. Jake winced, but didn’t argue otherwise.

“Are you familiar with the fuse box at all?” You continued, eager to get back and reassure the others that you were fine and not in any danger.

“Trudy kept the manual under the sink.” Jake returned easily. You sighed, it would have to do.

>_<

The entire system was down, and you couldn’t for the life of you figure out what it was. And Jake was not helping. For someone who knew jackshit about technology, he sure had a lot of fucking opinions.

“I’m taking a break.” You finally yelled, throwing down the manual and scooting away from the box. You stormed into the kitchen, anything to get some distance from the idiot down the hall.

“You said that twenty minutes ago.”

“I need another.”

“Stop being a pussy and help me.”

“You haven’t done jack shit!”

“Because your stupid head keeps getting in the way!”

A loud knocking at the front of the compound, made your next retort die in your throat. Jake froze down the hall, still loitering beside the open fuse box. You slowly turned to the front door at your back, mind racing to the gun tucked under your unit.

“No one should know we’re here.” You breathed.

“Norm and Max just know we’re near the Tree of Souls.”

Shit.

“Jake, get my gun, it’s under my unit in a bag.” You ordered, not waiting for him to respond before moving for the exo pack mounted on the wall beside the kitchen. The sound of wheels grew fainter as Jake moved quickly.

Another knock. Louder this time. More frantic. A sound more akin to claps of thunder than the polite thud of a fist. Overhead, a shadow swept across one of the windows, blocking out the sun. You breathed a sigh of relief as you recognised Neytiri’s concerned expression.

“Jake, your wife’s here to see you.” You yelled down the hall, satisfied when you heard a thump and a curse. Within seconds, Jake was back in the room.

“She’s my mate!” He corrected sharply, you rolled your eyes as you handed him an exo pack.

“Same difference.” You assured him. “Now go talk to her. She’s probably worried sick.” You patted him on the shoulder as you passed, ducking back out into the hall, content to finish fixing the fuse now that he would be occupied for a while.

Settling down before the fuse box once again, you snatched up the instruction manual as the front door opened and closed. Your gaze flickered from the poor quality diagrams to the monstrosity of technology before you. It looked identical.

Oh, no wait, the one for the link room had blown. Figures.

The door opened again. “Y/n get your ass out here. Tsu’tey is threatening to break in.” Jake yelled from the kitchen, sounding unbothered.

“Tell him I’m busy.” You yelled back, reaching for the screwdriver. The door closed again, there were hushed voices, steadily picking up in volume, but you focused on the task at hand.

This time the door slammed into the wall with the force of it being opened. The alarms overhead blaring into life as Pandora air flooded into the compound. You jumped, struggling to get your feet under you.

<“TSU’TEY NO-!”> Neytiri bellowed from the kitchen, before she was swiftly cut off by the door being slammed shut on her.

Whipping round, you found the man in question crouched in your kitchen with his bow in hand - Neytiri must have deemed him healed then. Tsu’tey’s head was snapping to and fro as he stooped to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling lights. He was decked out in his ceremonial attire now, his bandages gone and the massive necklace in its place. He dwarfed the rest of the compound, even crouched as he was.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?” You shrieked as one would scold their cat climbing the curtains. Tsu’tey’s head whipped in your direction, eyes raking over you. You glared back, jaw set as he observed your face. Ears rising and falling in a look of indecisiveness.

You’d think, after the way he’d reacted to you the first time, you would be more cautious about outright yelling at him. Tsu’tey could kill you with half a thought. He knew it. You knew it. And yet, it was as if nothing had changed. You did not fear him.

Tsu’tey proved you right by letting loose a deep breath, ears flattening to his skull. <“You’re okay.”> He said it with such relief that you half expected tears.

With heavy footsteps that made the floorboards creak ominously under his weight, he approached. You were speechless. He bent low as he approached the hallway, ears flattening as he realised he would not be able to follow you in, his shoulders too broad for the doorway, he barely fit into the main room as it was, his tail dangerously close to sweeping everything off of the table to his right. <“I am glad.”> He continued, sounding like he genuinely meant it as he set his bow down aside and tried to reach down the hallway for you.

His hand only just reached you, fingers easily the size of your foot brushing at your calf. The contact snapped you back to the present.

Scrambling to your feet, you raced out of the hallway to check on him. Tsu’tey reared back at the sudden speed, going as far as to shuffle back as you erupted through the doorway.

<“ME? WHAT ABOUT YOU?”> You yelled back, making him jump and his ears flatten. He looked like a scolded child, eyes wide in the face of your frantic outburst. <“Are you in pain?”> You bulldozed on before he could respond, concern causing your voice to rise. You reached for his forehead with the back of your hand, leaning forward to listen to his chest. <“How’s your breathing? Any lightheadedness or dizzy spells?”>

<“I am fine-”>

<“You should not be able to breathe this air.”> You mumbled to yourself, taking his hand to check his pulse, which seemed to be normal.

<“I feel fine-”> He broke off as you lent up to check his pupils, hands on either side of his temple, your gaze stern. He blinked at you owlishly, golden eyes burning with something you could not place, but he let you examine him with no further fuss.

Deeming him okay, you relented. <“I swear to God Tsu’tey, if you pass out in here I’m not gonna be able to drag your ass out with the link unit down.”>

He visibly shook himself, and replied sincerely. <“I promise I’ll leave if it starts getting hard to breathe.”> He reassured you, helping to calm your pounding pulse.

You nodded reluctantly. <“You’re an idiot.”> Tsu’tey shrugged, which suggested he knew and didn’t care.

<“I was worried.”>

Your stomach dropped as you realised you hadn’t sent a message down to the clan to tell them what had happened. No wonder Neytiri had almost smashed the door in.

<“The fuse blew.”> You explained as you turned away to continue fiddling with the fuse box. It felt natural to turn your back to him. To know that he wouldn’t strike out at you whilst you showed such blatant trust.

Tsu’tey hummed at the simple explanation despite not having any idea what a fuse was. Choosing instead to stay quiet as you worked, eyes flickering around the room, checking the windows and craning his neck to peer down the corridor to the link room. Not that you were paying attention to what he was doing. Nope, not at all.

With a final tightening of the screwdriver, the blown fuse was replaced. You held your breath as you closed the metal casing, latching it shut. Rising to your feet, you dipped into the link room to switch on the main generators, letting out a triumphant whoop when the units roared to life, their electronic screens lighting up with the start up logo. You were definitely going to rub this in Jake’s face.

Crossing back into the kitchen with the intention of doing just that, you went straight for the exopacks. Tsu’tey watched you with an amused expression, the corner of his lips quirking up in a private smile.

<“What?”> You asked, pulling the mask over your face and latching it at the nape of your neck with a sharp snap.

He hummed, licking his lips. <“You’re so small like this.”> He teased lightly. You gave him the finger, and turned your back to continue securing the exopack. <“But still fierce. I thought you’d bite my head off for a minute there.”> Your hand stilled on the mask.

His words from the other night played in the back of your mind. Replaying the way he’d held your gaze and seemed to mean it when he told you that he saw you. That he accepted your sky person body as much as your avatar.

<”I’ve got to keep you on your toes somehow.”>

He hummed. <”An attractive quality indeed.”> Tsu’tey admitted, easily as if this wasn’t earth shattering news to you.

And how the fuck were you supposed to respond to that?

<“Is that a bad thing?”>

<“No.”> And you knew he meant it. He licked his lips and shuffled his stance, his knees dropping to the floor so he was no longer balanced on the balls of his feet. <“Can I touch you?”> Your hands fumbled in swinging the pack onto your back, wondering where exactly that question had come from.

<“I just need to gloat at Jake for a moment, then I can link up.”> You assured him, feeling your stomach clench as he shook his head.

<“I meant like this.”>

You glanced down at your ratty, RDA issued shirt and tracksuits, feeling conscious of the last time you’d had a shower. With your days packed to bursting whilst amongst the People, there was little time for you to give this body some much needed TLC.

<“Are you sure?”>

<“Should I not be?”> He asked, genuinely curious.

<“I think I recall you referring to me as a ‘demon’ the first time we met.”> You returned easily, hoping to steer the conversation towards safer territory.

Tsu’tey grinned at the memory but didn’t let it slide. <“That was before we got to know each other.”> He corrected, <“and I am certain you have called me much worse. Multiple times.”>

<“You would tell me though, if you don’t like it. Right?”> He nodded but you kept rambling. <“Like if you dislike how my skin feels, or think I’m too small to hold, feel free to just put me back-”>

<“Y/n.”> There was no room for argument in his tone, and you knew from his face that he’d already made up his mind. <”I see you.”> He promised. And you deeply prayed it wouldn’t be broken if he was truly being honest.

<“Okay.”> You breathed, collecting yourself.

Despite knowing Neytiri and Jake wouldn’t barge in unannounced, you glanced at the door before you managed to pull yourself back together. Slowly, you removed the mask and pack, setting them back down on the table, a slight shake in your hands.

<“Ugh, please be gentle.”> You rambled as you approached. <“This body isn’t as durable as my avatar. I will break-”>

<“You think too much.”> Tsu’tey chuckled, grinning as your hand wrapped around two of his fingers. Slowly, carefully, he used that contact to pull you closer to him so that his shadow fully eclipsed you. Dumbly, you stared up at him, mouth going dry at his sheer size.

Tsu’tey’s expression was open and thoughtful as he brought his other hand down to feel your hair. You smiled at the barely there graze of his large fingers, encouraging him with a nod when he glanced back to your face for confirmation. He gradually grew more confident, experimentally touching your hair, tracing the rounded tips of your ears with the cute prick of his own. His tail was swaying behind him, thumping against the back wall in the tight space, but he didn’t seem to care. Those burning, golden eyes traced your features, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as his hand slid to cup your cheek. You were completely dwarfed by him. His palm spanning from your chin to your forehead. You couldn’t quite stop yourself from pressing into his touch.

<”I prefer you without the mask.”> He mumbled quietly, his thumb roughly slid up the slope of your nose, probably taking into account the difference in structure from his own. You pulled away from the rough treatment, the calloused pad of the digit pulling at your skin. He laughed lightly, pulling away. <”You’re much easier to read without it.”>

He withdrew his hand, ears fanning wide as he looked you up and down, silently calculating some untold equation. <”Can I hold you?”> <”Hold me?”> He seemed to flounder for the right word, tail swaying in anxiety. Hesitantly, he moved his hands to your waist, fingers overlapping as he mimed what he wanted. He did not lift you from the floor, not without your permission.

<”You want to pick me up?”> <”Yes!”> He replied instantly, before adding more sheepishly, <”this position is hurting my back.”> You laughed despite yourself. <”You can lift me.”> You assured him, reaching down to grasp his arm guard as his grip tightened. He must have anticipated you’d weigh more than you did, because the initial lift almost threw you up into the roof. You shrieked, holding on tight as Tsu’tey swore softly and swiftly gathered you to him. <”I am sorry.”> He apologised frantically, fingers flexing as if he didn’t know whether to let go or keep a hold of you. <”You’re fine.”>

<”I am. But you are not!">

<"No. As in you didn't do anything wrong.">

<"You are certain?”>

<”Dude, you need to take a breath.”> His tail flicked menacingly, but he did as instructed.

Whilst he collected himself, you took it upon yourself to get more comfortable in his lap by straddling one of his thick thighs. He relaxed at the motion, leaning himself back against the wall of the compound and tilting his legs so that you were leaning more securely against his stomach. The hands around your waist loosened their hold, instead slipping down to gently cup your thighs, ensuring that you remained secure.

<“This is okay?”> He asked, drawing your attention back to his face. The way he was looking at you had you speechless. It was reassuring, to know that although you were significantly smaller and alien to him, he could still look at you like that.

You had to drop his gaze, as you nodded.

In truth, this was heaven. After months of little to no physical contact, in and outside of the link, the small touches were sending your mind into a tailspin. Your skin lit up everywhere he touched you, making your ears burning beneath your hair. If Tsu’tey noticed he didn’t comment.

His skin was cool compared to your own, you realised. Almost leather-like in texture, with a thickness you knew from experience acted like armour against some of Pandora’s weaker threats. Absently, you traced one of his stripes, marvelling at its size in comparison to your finger. Mindlessly, watching it stretch and contract with every breath.

You paused as the skin under your palms grew rougher than the rest of him. You peered closer, noting with a swallow that you had found the scar tissue of the bullet wounds from weeks ago. They had healed up nicely, with only a slight dusting of red to make them obvious compared to the rest of his complexion.

He said your name to capture your attention, a hand cupping the side of your face to divert your attention away from his chest. <“This is okay?"> He repeated, eyes searching your own with a hint of concern.

You nodded again before finally managing to unstick your tongue from the room of your mouth. <“Yes. Perfect. You’re perfect.”> You breathed, before tensing up as you realised your wording. <“Fuck. I mean.”>

<“I believe you to be perfect too.”> Tsu’tey promised, the honesty clear as the glowing freckles on his cheeks. Your heart skipped in your chest, taken off guard by such sweet words, especially from Tsu’tey of all people.

You laughed. <“When did you learn to be sweet?”> Carefully, you manoeuvred yourself so you were eyelevel with him, Tsu’tey’s grip on your waist helping to steady you as you leaned in. He happily accepted the press of your foreheads, his eyes slipping closed as he huffed at the sensation, one of his thumbs rubbing circles into your hip.

Thanks to the size difference, for you it was more of a full face squished against his forehead, but it was still perfect.

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#tsu'tey x reader #Tsu'tey #cannon divergent #gender neutral reader #size difference #no smut

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