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#I did not mean to end up gushing
revenantghost · 1 year
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It is so wild to me that the Trigun manga was just on the fringe of the fandom before Tristamp, with ‘98 being the main focus.
I can see how it happened--when the anime was airing, anime was way more niche than it is now, and not everyone would have had easy access to buying it. And if you wanted to read it online... good luck, as someone who was in those forum/Livejournal/Yahoo Groups trenches. Someone on translating your favorite manga was so much work, and it was incredibly uncommon for people to scan officially released manga back then. And from what I hear, the first scanlation was awful, willfully mistranslating things and painting the story and characters in a terrible light. By the time the full manga was released, many of the original fans probably moved on. It’s very different from the first anime, and for the younger audience that likely saw it, maybe a bit too much!
But now that Tristamp has thrust us all into Trimax hell, I deeply understand why Trimax Vash is one of the most common Vashes I see popping up in fanart and such. I love and am feral for ‘98 and Tristamp, you’ll find no slander for those here, but the manga stripped me down on an molecular level and rewired my entire brain and all my emotions. That story and those characters haunt me. Sometimes I’ll see a panel from the manga, not even one of the most impactful ones, and I need to take a moment to recover. I think about it daily. Though I just think about Trigun all day at this point who am I kidding. It’s so good. It’s too good. WHO GAVE IT THE RIGHT TO BE THIS GOOD.
Anyway, if you haven’t read the Trigun manga yet, go check out @trigun-manga-overhaul​ because you’re missing out on one of the best stories ever written.
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ruporas · 10 months
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wolfwood redraws (ID in alt text)
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cagcd · 7 months
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Skills  &.   powers.
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don't reblog or steal or i will live in your walls <3
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Johnny's interest in martial arts hadn't been intended,   despite his fascination with the likes of Bruce Lee and other famous action stars while growing up,   it never occurred to him that he would ever go down the same path as them,   and reach so far beyond than the life of any Hollywood star would ever hope for.   He began with a simple course of Karate as a means of self defense,   his mother came to the decision after many instances of bullying that went unaddressed and unpunished in his school,   he needed to learn to toughen up and stand up for himself,   [  a task that should be appointed to a father that was constantly out of the picture.  ]   It was fun to the young boy he was at first,   but as he progressed from one belt to another,   his interest had grown exceptionally,   he practiced non stop and got recognised for his hard work,   eventually earning him a spot in various local tournaments then world championships,   which he had won four in his lifetime.   His achievements gained him audience with the best masters around the world and he was eager to be taught by them,   he advanced in other forms of Karate like Shorin Ryu,  Shinto Ryu,   [  that he later developed better from Darrius' teachings,   who he had gotten to meet during his training in Orderrealm later on.  ]   He mastered Jeet Kune Do and Muay Thai as well.
  It was all skill and physical abilities that had unknowingly qualified him to be a part of the mortal kombat tournaments,   which he at first agreed upon as a publicity stunt to save his failing career at the time.   It was at the end of the first tournament that something within him had sparked into a life,   a power beyond his imagination or knowledge to ever be in possession of.   Raiden himself didn't seem to be aware of it but after some research it's revealed to the star that he was a descendant from a mediterranean cult that bred warriors for combat.   That green glow is similar in essence to the likes of Shang Tsung,   Quan chi,   Nightwolf and even Shao khan,   which is presumably cultivated by souls.   The method with which this cult used to create a generation of warriors by using the souls of their fallen as enhancement for combat.   It was dormant during Johnny's life,   awakened at the defeat of Shao,   as his last remains were fading,   he had unknowingly absorbed a large amount of souls the Kahn had in possession from all the worlds he had conquered.
  It was a gradual shift from then on,   something was off but he could never put his finger on It,   only for it to emerge during the encounter with Shinnok,   the green glow that encased his body and acted like a shield,   fading as quickly as it had appeared.   He couldn't summon it by will again,   but rather it showed by itself,   more frequently the more he fought,   constantly feeding into that power until the near catastrophic end result as sudden bursts of energy from a huge quantity of souls his body was now struggling to contain.   He sought Raiden and Nightwolf's advice in order to control it,   or at least understand it,   [  for he was worried he might hurt those around him unintentionally  ],   the only solution they could come to was to send him to Orderrealm,   where he went through long and extensive training by both Hotaru and Darrius,  the conclusion was learning how to channel those powers through controlled blasts of energy,   as seen through what became his signature move afterwards the shadow kick.   He also learned to direct them through his kicks and punches,   conjuring energy blasts,   then later and with enough experience,   encasing his body with it to be used as shield upon command,   or his fists and kicks as an enhancement of strength during combat.
  Moreover,   due to this connection with souls,   his attentive nature is heightened as he can sense the others feelings to a relative degree by picking up on negative energy and thus better understand those around him.   It might be said he mastered his inner powers with age,   he's certainly more in control and attuned to its full capacity,   he can channel energy with ease and fluidity as though its second nature to him or an extension to his strength.   But he isn't exactly in full control at all times,   as explained,   he simply learned how to channel it   &.   keep those bursts of energy in check.   However,   when he's driven to an edge and is at the end of his limits,   his powers shift from green to crimson red,   which happens only when he uses his powers to its full extent,   but lack of concentration in that state can he destructive and it's highly draining to him that his body shuts down completely afterwards,   it's a last trump card he uses only at dire circumstances.
  Johnny possesses those powers in the new timeline as well,   had never been aware of them but just like the previous timeline it's a gradual process,   already triggered without his knowledge during the fight against Quan chi to stop the well of souls from creating Ermac.   Some of the souls that escaped when the stone was broken had gone through to Johnny who had been knocked unconscious at the time.   Some semblance of his powers show through speed for the most part,   when he dashes forward to evade an attack or when he puts enough force into a punch or kick,   the shadow left behind is quick for the eye to see but there's a faint green glow within it.   It's a slight shift he had noticed but took it as nothing more than a result of more extensive practice.   But its only bound to grow and emerge in full with time,   well after the first tournament and constant combat that he finds out and seeks Liu kang's aid this time around.
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pagesofkenna · 2 years
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ema skye (idk anything about asexual attorney but she seems like your kinda character just from aesthetic)
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did you randomly google ace attorney characters and just happen to stumble onto literally my favorite character based on the way she looks?? am i that much of an open book??
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genshin-obsessed · 5 months
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Helloooo~!! Could I request the men in honkai star rail with an s/o who makes various different plushies for themselves and the men?
Just imagine Dan Heng getting a chonky dragon plushie version of himself.
✩ ‒ You guys have the most creative ideas sometimes lmao I would’ve never thought of this and it is such a cute idea!!
✩ ‒ I wasn't going to do everyone but they came out really short so I made it up by adding more characters ^w^
✩ ‒ Characters: Caelus, Dan Heng, Welt, Gepard, Sampo, Luocha, Jing Yuan, Blade
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✩ ‒ Caelus
He’s not the biggest plushie guy out there, but come on. You made it so cute and all.
He keeps it safe in his room and does a pretty good job at keeping it clean. Like dust free and all.
Caelus isn’t ashamed of it by any means, everyone knows about it. He just doesn’t want to end up tearing it or something which is why it's always in his room.
Big fan. You made a couple of yourself and he keeps them together. They're together like the two of you are. He’s debating on getting a dedicated shelf.
✩ ‒ Dan Heng
He originally received two. One of his normal self and then his Vidyadhara half. It’s so accurate, too. He definitely spent a few hours analyzing them both.
He wasn’t sure at first but the longer he had it, the more he began to like it. He kinda sleeps with it now. I mean... they're just on his bed and that's where he sleeps...
You’re welcome to make more but he doesn’t have room to place them. Besides… how many could you possibly make?
He actually likes the little dragon one. It’s so cute, the details are well done, and you seem to really like it too.
✩ ‒ Welt
Aww, a plushie for him? It was so cute! It even had his lil cane and all. Honestly, Welt loves it.
He keeps it with him all the time. When you often go off on missions, he likes to hold it for comfort.
When you made one of yourself, he decided the plushies could never be separated- much like you two. So, basically now he carries two plushies with him at all times.
Pom Pom and Himeko gush over the cuteness of the plushie. You’re really talented, why not start a business at this point? You'll definitely get March or Stelle asking for one too.
✩ ‒ Gepard
He was confused at first. Why did you make a plushie of him? But he really liked it. You even got the shield right.
He prefers it to stay at home where his fellow guards can’t see it because it’s a little embarrassing. He’s a grown man and all.
Ok, but it’s so cute. The little hair, the outfit- the shield! Come on? How is he supposed to remain composed? He will stare at it sadly when he has to go to work.
He had to admit, when you made one of yourself it felt complete. The plushies are always sitting together on his bed. Sometimes, he'll even put a blanket over them to keep them warm.
✩ ‒ Sampo
Omg once he gets one, it's on his person permanently. He loves seeing you work on them, too. It gives him a perspective on how much work you put into them
He’ll give suggestions all the time and you do make most of them. You often make yourself as well and it leads to lots of matching plushies.
Sampo did try to make one himself but it looked horrendous. He tried to throw it away but you wouldn’t let him!
That thing haunts his dreams but you like it for whatever reason. Honestly, Sampo takes that thing everywhere and even learned how to wash it properly.
✩ ‒ Luocha
The accuracy. His hair, eyes, outfit, the coffin- it even opens! Like, the effort that went into that was phenomenal.
Luocha is a big fan and does keep the plushie with him during his travels but keeps it hidden. It's something that reminds him of you (ironic since it looks like him).
He’s rather protective of the plushie. Someone once tried to take it and well… he almost stuffed them in the coffin. Lmao jk.
… ok, he did it once and never again, you can’t judge him, that’s his plushie. You gave it to him, not that rando. And no, it wasn't a kid! Why do people keep asking him that?
✩ ‒ Jing Yuan
Mind blown. Seriously, the talent that took was incredible! You even made a Lightning Lord plushie which attaches to the Jing Yuan one.
He keeps them on his desk at work and no one is allowed to touch them. He's worried others might damage them, but he wants to show them off at the same time.
He keeps the one you made of yourself with him though. It’s his good luck charm. Much like you.
Secretly hates tearing apart the plushie version of you and him. Heartbreaking when they have to see each other go. Sniff.
✩ ‒ Blade
Ok, listen. This is Blade we’re talking about. He can’t just be seen carrying a plushie- and of himself, no less. It’s embarrassing.
Is what he thought until he saw how sad you got when you found out he left it in a drawer. On the pain in his heart…
Now he keeps it on his person all the time. He even learned how to wash it because it’ll get dirty sometimes. No blood gets on it though, don't worry. Just some minor dirt or something.
For tougher missions, he puts the plushie in a plastic bag to keep it safe. It’s like a good luck charm of his. He lost it once and he almost had a heart attack.
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sh1-n0bu · 13 days
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♡︎ 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙 ♡︎
characters: AFAB!sub!jing yuan, dan heng, blade x gn!dom!reader
warnings: AFAB characters, overstimulation, headcannon+small drabble format, praise, degrading, cock/strap traditions, dacryphilia, usage of bullet vibrator, slight brat taming, nipple stimulation, fingering, oral, cervix fucking, begging, squirting, clit pinching, cock/strap warming, size kink, belly bulge, breeding, creampie, mating press, full nelson, just a personal headcannon of how i think they would act when overstimulated
notes: someone wrote “nobody writes ahegao quite like nobu does” in one of their repost tags and im fucking shitting tears😭😭
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the giggler
jing yuan loves to be overstimulated. he loves the feeling of it, the adrenaline rush, the high, the feeling of finally cumming all over your fingers, tongue, strap whatever it may be and the feeling of you continuing to move, drawing out his orgasm while also driving him into an overstimulated mess
has the cutest giggles and laughs when he gets too much pleasure. he doesn’t even try to hide or won’t even try to hide it. why would he when you were making him feel so good over and over again? hell, he even wants other people to hear it, to remind them that you were his lover and only his. and how only he gets to feel the overwhelming amount of pleasure only you can bring to him and no one else
but, it comes with a catch. he needs a lot of foreplay and/or teasing and/or orgasm denial for him to finally cave in and shake his head before starting to blabber incoherent shit about how good your cock feels inside his gushing pussy, how he could feel your tip fucking his cervix, how he wanted you to fuck a baby inside him etc etc
and i mean a LOT of it
as a centuries old war hardened general, it’s safe to say that he had gotten used to some feelings and emotions. pleasure being one of them
so if you want to get him to break and to become absolutely dumb and drunk on lust and pleasure, you have to tease him a lots before getting into it. if not, he will somehow find a way to outsmart you and take the reigns. he’s a bit of a brat and a spoiled prince wrapped up into one after all
will tell you what to do and how to do it if you have failed in getting him needy in your foreplay. he will fist your hair and thrust his hips into your mouth, making you unable to breath for a moment or two with his clit right at your nose. will push you down and flip your positions so he could ride your face, all the while chuckling at your cute attempt to push him back down. a goddamn brat and he will show it to the fullest when you fail at your foreplay
did i mention he was a brat? well now i have. a fucking brat to the max and he isn’t ashamed of it. will definitely question your power in the bedroom, try to overpower you and he will. he literally swings a 7000kg glaive in one hand like its nothing and he will show it by throwing you around. gently and consensually of course, he wouldn’t want to hurt his beloved
but fully expect him to be cocky and devious. “can you say no to my pretty pussy?”, “so sleepy. oh sorry, i didn’t know your cock was inside me hehe”, “was that all?” you get the gist. will shamelessly yawn in the middle of fucking not because he is sleepy or tired, but simply because he is a brat. a goddamn brat
so, how can you get him to be needy and won’t make him go into his bratty side? simple. shove a long distance controlled vibrator inside his cunt and leave it there for the whole day for him to suffer at work. but if you’re going to do that, be sure to mute the ringtone for your phone for the day since he will call you, send you messages, pictures, videos every damn hour. the closer his hour for shift ending comes, the more frequent the buzzing of your phone will become because he will grow much more needier
when finally he’s back home and frantically pawing at your pants when barely through the doors, that’s when you know he had absolutely no intention of being a brat. how can he when his whole pants were slowly getting stained from his multiple orgasms?
when he’s gladly bending himself over, arching his back for you as he wiggles his hips, he will ask you to come inside. jing yuan is great with kids and such a huge family man, he will ask you over and over repeatedly to breed him. cum inside him, fill up his cute dripping cunt, put him in whatever position you want and make sure to breed his pretty cunt, you can finally raise your own family together!
remember the long distance controlled vibrator i mentioned? make sure to keep it on and buzzing inside his cunt at all times when he’s away at work, or else it won’t work. during meetings or report hearings, jing yuan had to leave to the bathroom a lot of times and it genuinely got his subordinates concerned for his health. the red face, the heavy breathing and sometimes, the jolts of his body or the bleeding bruised lips of his made the cloud knights worry and some even suggested for him to leave the seat of divine foresight early to look after his health. if only they knew just how their dearest general was pathetically biting on his hand to muffle his screams in the bathroom as he squirted all over himself
“[naaammeee], ‘m mmgh♡︎! aaaaangh haah mngck♡︎♡︎ i-i’m home!” jing yuan’s voice called out, weak mewls of pleasure slipping through as he collapsed onto the floor the moment the doors of your shared home was closed. desperately humping the floor, trying to push the vibrator deeper into his gushing pussy, your lover didn’t realize that you were leaning against the wall of the kitchen, watching him with a knowing smile. there was a wet patch growing in his usual red pants, growing more and more the further he humped the air in desperation. see? your tough brat was so easy to tame.
“you feeling okay, darling?” you call out, taking out the controlled from your pants pocket and messing with the switch. flipping it up, down, up to the highest level, before going to the lowest level. it was cute to see the ever so tough brat turn into a delirious mess from just a single small toy. all because he was being so stubborn about how you weren’t the boss of him. walking over to where he was kneeling on the floor, you reach your free hand out. tilting his head up, a thumb swiping away at the drool that was beginning to pool on his lower lip, you tilt your head to the side, asking the question again with a firm hold onto his chin.
“n-no…! no no no, not at aamgh♡︎♡︎ h-hhaaaggm not at all♡︎!” he shakes his head viciously, dragging out his words and tripping over them with moans and mewls falling in between. pathetically, he tugs on the hem of your pants, trying to get to his favorite treat, the one thing he’s been missing this whole day.
“n-need you… need you right now, need your—♡︎♡︎! need yo-our..! c-cock right now...♡︎!” jing yuan mutters between whimpers, finally, his shaky hands manage to pull down your pants and undergarments just enough to have your strap out. a needy whine falling as he places slobbering wet kisses on the tip, giving it a few licks as he flutters his lashes at you in an effort to manipulate you to give him what he was non-verbally asking.
knowing full well that he wouldn’t take no for an answer and that yanqing might come home soon, you drag him up to his feet — an action that was heavily protested against as jing yuan cries out after his favorite treat being taken away. once inside the comfort of your shared bedroom, by the time you have locked the door behind you, he was already naked. clothes messily strewn on the floor and on the bed, the many orgasm’s slick dripping down his puffy cunt to his ass and to the bedsheets eventually. you could see the light trembling of his pussy lips, an action caused by the vibrator fucking away inside him still.
turning the vibrator off, you take the toy out of his puffy cunt. jing yuan let out a drawn out mewl at the feeling, clenching around nothing as he tries to replace the empty feeling for something, anything. but seeing you starting to strip, he knew what he wanted. and he knew how he wanted it.
spreading his legs open further, his hand comes down, flicking at his enlarged clit with a jolt before spreading open his labia for you to take in how he was already so needily wet and dripping for you. a drunk giggle escaping him when the tip of your cock is right against his folds, wiggling his hips enticingly.
“[nnaameeee]~ you gotta fuck a baby in me this time, owhkayyy?♡︎♡︎ hehehe♥︎”
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the crybaby
the cutest out of all three of them, in my personal opinion
he just gets overstimmed so easily and quickly, it’s adorable in the way that he brokenly begs for a moment of respite. legs shaking, smaller body jolting violently at the smallest of touches like your hand ghosting over his hardened nipples. don’t even get me started on the way he cutely squeals out loud when you pinch his clit augh
maybe it’s due to his nature as a vidyadhara and not a full human but every little touch is received with so much sensitivity and sensuality, it gets so easy to turn him into a blabbering mess in record time. push his smaller body against the wall and finger his gushing pussy while rolling your thumb over his clit. in no time, his legs are shaking as he bites your hand, his orgasm washing over him quickly and violently. but don’t just stop there, keep flicking at his clit, pinch it, tug on it, push a hand on the small bulge on his belly and he’ll be left sobbing by the second or third round
he’s noticeably smaller than the other two and it carries out into his size kink so well. he just wants to be pushed around and put into impossible, near painful positions and man-handled until he’s left a blabbering idiot
make him cockwarm you while asking him to read you a story or a book under the guise that you had a nightmare and can’t fall asleep without his soothing voice and soft cunny wrapped around your cock. at first he’ll huff and puff, saying that you’re a liar and just wants to fuck him. four or five pages in and his voice is already strained, whines coming out as hiccups and sniffles follow soon after
but just because he’s a crybaby doesn’t mean he’s an idiot. he knows how much you love his pretty steel grey eyes unfocused and hazy, brimming with tears and he will use that to his advantage. will make sure to play with his nipples or push down on the bulge in his tummy when cockwarming you so he could get teary eyed quicker. the moment he sniffles and grinds himself down on you, he knows you’re a goner and would give him what he wants
he may be a crybaby, but he’s also a goddamn minx so beware of that
tugs on your sleeve so cutely, looking at you with a flushed face and stuttered words to ask you if you wanna spend time with him in his room. today’s trailblazing expedition was too long and tiring after all, “surely you would enjoy some cuddles…?” or “i just wanted to help you patch up your wounds. i was just worried”
yeah sure, dan heng. just say that you wanna get fucked until you’re squealing out like a slut with fat tears running down your cute red cheeks. thank the aeons the express’ walls are thick and soundproof. if not, who knows the amount of noise complaint you would have gotten from everyone
has slight oral fixation. slightly. but that’s only because he wants to see you crumble and give into his non-verbal demands and just ruin him. he’s a bit too shy to ask directly after all
long serpentine tongue wrapping around your strap, pulling it into his mouth. will gag and choke so loudly with the tip of the fat dildo pushed right down his throat, hitting his uvula and choking his throat. he can complain about sore throats and pained jaws all he wants but you both know that he loves to suckle on your strap with tears filling his eyes
the most messiest cock sucker and that’s saying something bc blade is the one who has the biggest oral fixation out of the three of them. he’ll place wet kisses to the weeping tip of your cock, running the slitted snake like tongue over the weeping slit of your cock teasingly before wrapping it around your dick. loves the scent and the taste of your pre, basically addicted to it as he opens his mouth wider, slipping your cock inside the warm cavern of his mouth inch by inch
but be aware that he will also try to take advantage of this position. he will try to bat his lashes at you so he can continue suckling on your strap like he would be sucking on a lolipop, all under the guise to ‘make you happy’. when in reality, he would try to make you cum over and over to try and get you overstimulated. when in such position, just fist his hair and fuck his throat. gets him crying in no time like the crybaby he is
“… bamboo whispers in the w-wind, a secret pa-aaangh! aah aaah hmgk♡︎ a s-secret pa-act... ♡︎!“ the soothing voice of your lover drawls out into a weak sniffle, hands gripping the book filled with love poetry from his home planet tightly. so tight, you feared that he might just tear the book apart with his claws. you had crawled into his bed yet again to torment him today, the dildo hitting all the sensitive spots in his gushing cunt, dan heng couldn’t help but weakly whine when your hands around his waist tightens to not let him move.
“go on. i’m listening” you coo out, forcing him to stay still on your lap while his voice continue to drawl out. sniffles and broken pleads replacing his ever so stoic mask, a voice that is usually so cold and distant, always scolding other turning into one of mindless blabber about how badly he wanted your strap to fuck his pussy. you couldn’t help but laugh.
“is that what it says on the pages? i may be still learning the strokes but the next line seems to be the stroke for two” you point at the kanji on the book he was holding in his shaking hands, the strokes of the language seeming familiar to you. it was an easy kanji to read after all. yet not to your boyfriend it seems.
“please! p-please please move! i beg you, [n-naamee]♡︎ you gotta fuck meeh♡︎ you gotta fuck me you gotta fuck me— you have to fuck meeegck—♡︎♡︎!!” dan heng squeals, shaking thighs bucking down onto your dick, trying to gain some friction. it was enough, he had read you hundreds of love poetries from his home planet. he had been taking your pronged torture for long enough, please just fuck his cunt already!
“so impatient” you huff, putting the book away with a book marker tucked between the pages before hooking your hands under his knees. pulling him up and over until dan heng was left wailing at the sudden change in position. hooking your arms under his knees, his legs are left dangling in the air with nothing to support himself but for his hands to cling to your biceps. even then, he couldn’t hold for long as he jolts about in your arms like a hopping bunny, painting your dildo in his cum when the tip kissed his cervix.
“guuchk♥︎!! d-deep! aah ah naahmg haah t-too deep♡︎♡︎ [n-name] you’re f-fucckk fuck fuck—♡︎♥︎ fucking my cerviinxx my ceerrvv—♡︎♡︎ mngh unngya♥︎!” punched out sobs comes from his pretty lips, drawling out into whiny cries when you move him up and down. you could see the bulge in his tummy appear and disappear every little moment. every jolt, every gasp, every little whiny cry making the bulge in his tummy to get more detailed. he was so adorably small.
“‘m sorry, darling. i’m sorry, didn’t mean it. didn’t mean to fuck you this deep” you coo out apologies, lifting him just a bit so your strap won’t sink so deep to the point it would kiss his cervix. as much as you loved your crybaby gasping and writhing, you didn’t want the reason for such reaction to be pain.
claws scratching at every inch of skin he could touch, jaw slack open in a silent scream, you could barely make out his shrill yell of what appears to be your name when dan heng squirts over your cock after just a few thrusts. you could see the overflowing amount of cum just dripping down your cock, trailing down to your legs and staining the mattress. with a click of your tongue, you pinched his clit, making the shorter man sniffle with a squeal.
“‘m soowryyy… sorry sorry—♡︎ d-didn’t mean to be bad... s-soowwh uunhg hyaagk ungc gugcck—♥︎♥︎!!”
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the hissy bitch
alright, so i know i’m going into territory that has been charted way too many times before by blade lovers standard but he def has piercings. on his nipples, tongue and on his clit. probably got the first three by losing a drunk bet or something or maybe he just wanted it but the last one, the clit one, is definitely his latest piercing. one that he got after his relationship with you began and he had made the sudden rash decision to get one so he could see your reaction and to feel you just messing with it while fucking him
there is a REASON why he always keeps his chest bandaged up. there is a goddamn reason and that reason is his nipple piercings and the fact that his chest is generally very sensitive im being delusional
so what does that bring and why have i specified it? simple. titty fucking. nipple stimulation. seeing his pretty big, round chest jiggle every time your cock sinks back into his dripping cunt. pinch it, roll it, tug on them, suckle on them, do anything to him with his nipple piercing and he’s scratching at your back, mauling it like an animal
the reason i see him as a hissy bitch is because he likes to throw small temper tantrums when he gets too overstimulated. he’s crying, begging, hitting your shoulders, back, scratching at them and leaving deep red scratch marks, perhaps even breaking the skin sometimes. how come blade get overstimulated quickly? because he is very touch deprived. he’s been alone and immortal for too damn long and his ass is fucking touch starved. i just know it in my bones
genuinely, he is indeed very touch starved. since his rebirth as an immortal, he had felt nothing but pain, anguish and suffering and therefore, has basically gotten immune to touches. especially the violent and bloody ones. but gentle, tender, affectionate ones? find him jumping away from your soft hands like a frightened cat, it’s goddamn heartbreaking. so when he finally gets his cunt fucked, blade would be overstimmed too fast due to receiving a sudden abundance of affection and touches
will shake his head ‘no’ when asked if you would wanna stop due to his tears. you were just concerned but blade didn’t wanted this onslaught of pleasure to stop. desperately rides your fingers, mouth, strap — anything. loves the feeling of being on top of you, gives him the slight feeling of being in control. until it all gets thrown out the window when you force him to stop bouncing, hands gripping his hips tightly as a warning. will whine and try to grind down, trying to chase that high again but will only end up with a pout and hissy tears falling down his cheeks
another one who loves the feeling of being stuffed full and overstimulated. it’s almost like he gets high from the feeling. loves having his pussy fucked in any way you please until he can’t stay on his hands or feet without shaking. it’s just so cute to see him shaking like a fawn when fucking him doggy style
prepare to have yourself used as a chew toy as well as a scratcher. blade’s almost like a cat, hissy and whiny but also so greedy and preferring certain things in certain manner. will bite at your shoulders, hands, fingers to muffle himself but also to try and get his shit together. will scratch at your back, thighs, wherever he could reach. such a spoiled brat
when eating him out, be sure to give an extra care and love to his clit piercing. constantly flicking it with your tongue would usually work though, gets his legs all shaky and jolty soon enough. maybe pair it with flicking his pierced nubs and bladie will be squirting into your mouth with an embarrassing high pitched shriek. make sure to clean up all of his mess before diving right back into his gushing cunny. he may not say it but he will expect you to go back to eating him out like he’s your last meal
has the BIGGEST oral fixation out of the three of them. like, down bad, delicious, scrumptious, sloppy oral fixation. and he is happy to give it 90% of the times due to his tongue piercing. knows how good it makes you feel and how you like to see his pretty face between your legs, sucking on the large dildo like his life depends on it. not a single thought or a single moment of choking from him, it’s almost like he doesn’t have a gag reflex
you just came back from mission, from being away from him even for a single day? unacceptable. let him bend over for you, you can get your stress out by fucking his already dripping wet pussy. too tired? that’s fine. take of your pants and get comfortable cuz’ he can stay between your legs for days
not a single minute of respite has greeted you ever since you came back from your latest mission, stepping foot into your shared home with your stoic lover. perhaps the single gentle kiss to your cheek before he started to leave slobbering wet kisses on your lips was the only warning and moment of rest you have gotten. not even shoes off yet and blade was already unbuckling your belt, giving you the puppy eyes and grumbling about how you’ve been away for too damn long. whining about how much he missed you and needed your strap to fuck him dumb. how his pretty pussy had missed you so much.
“n-nnghyaa♡︎♡︎ m-missed you... missed you s’ much, [name]! f-fuck me fuck me fuck me, fuck your favorite cunt gyyuck—♥︎♥︎ a-aaanh! haah ah ah mmngk—♡︎♥︎!!” unusually docile red eyes roll to the back of his skull, jaw going slack wide open as you push his legs up, feeling your strap hit him deeper than he thought was possible. he could feel your weight push him down, keeping it still on the bed and to stop him from wiggling his hips entirely. this new position caused his cat like pupils to widen, turning into heart shapes as you chuckle at the dazed look in his eyes.
“such a needy brat” you coo out in a condescending manner, pushing his legs up in the air with your hands hooked under his knees to keep him in place. pulling out until halfway out, you sink back into blade’s dripping cunt. a squeal tearing from his throat alongside the filthy wet squelch of his cunt tightening around your dildo. it was so easy to get him dumb.
“t-too nngh much! too muchtoomuchtoomuch♡︎! fucking m-my womb—♡︎ [n-name], y-youuwrr crush— crushing my wombgg aangh ah ah! gyyuck eengh aaangh nyaagh♥︎♥︎!!” the familiar feeling of his nails scratching at your arms takes place, tearing at the skin, clawing at any part of your body he can come in contact with. a desperate attempt to ground his already long gone mind, too deep into the throes of pleasure that he didn’t even realize his shaking hands were weakly pulling your hips to fuck deeper into his warm walls.
“don’t be so dramatic, bladie. i won’t be able to crush your womb in this position” you coo out mockingly, wiping away the fat globs of tears that continue to pour of his eyes. red and yellow eyes rolled to the back of his skull, wide open mouth letting out the most salacious squeals and shrieks of your name and how you were fucking his womb falling out. legs weakly dangling in the air, jolting and bristling at every deep thrust you fuck into his velvety walls. the lewd wet squelching noises were alongside your grunts and blade’s whiny sobs were the only noise in the room. you would probably get noise complaints the next morning due to blade’s loudmouthed blabbering self.
letting go of one of his legs, you shove your fingers into his mouth. almost as if it was an instinct, blade’s tongue wet your fingers. suckling on the two digits as it his life depended on it with the most cutest heart shaped pupils staring at you. once you deemed them wet enough, you take your fingers out of his mouth. an action that blade showed his hatred towards as his pierced tongue comes past his lips, trying to chase after your fingers.
“gghcck—♡︎♥︎♥︎♥︎!!” a sharp wail taking place as blade arches his back, his whole body shaking, soft big tits jiggling when you pinched at his pierced clit. rolling, tugging, flicking at the hardened nub as blade sobs about cumming before drenching your cock with his squirting. you had thought of him to be satisfied with it, but turns out you have underestimated your lover’s neediness when his strong scarred thighs comes to wrap around your waist, legs locked behind your back when you tried to pull out.
sigh… it’s times like this that makes you glad for your amount of stamina.
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joontroverted · 2 months
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of course other women want your boyfriend
pairing: nanami kento x reader
tags: nanami is 34. is that a warning? lol.
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"your dad's kinda hot."
the bar isn't too full, just the regular crowd, and then some. of course there were other college kids, none that you knew. well, except this one.
you've seen aiko around, always at the back of the class. not that that's worth shaming, you ended up back there too often due to sleepy mornings to be looking down on her.
no, it's the constant bitching and laughing during class that pissed you the fuck off. not an ounce of respect or decorum for the rest of you depressed losers just trying to make it out of class with notes that made sense, or the poor professor, who has long since given up on admonishing her. so maybe you did once tell her off in the middle of class a week before finals. just once. or twice.
and here she is, having tapped on your shoulder as you were sipping your drink, bitching and laughing with her friends hanging behind her, snickering along.
"that's not my dad," you reply, ticked off.
her eyes widen in faux shock. "even better then! I didn't wanna make it too messy for you. what's his instagram?"
you laugh, bunching up your shoulders, finally putting down your drink and getting up. you're usually not the jealous type, and you're not even feeling jealous right now, more like a bubbling irritation.
"he doesn't have an Instagram. he's thirty four, what instagram do you think you're gonna be hitting him up on, huh?"
"thirty four? he looks forty plus at least! I didn't know being with a stuck up bitch like you would age a man like that, but makes sense!" she scoffs, looking you up and down.
"so you can pick up on social cues! I was wondering how you couldn't figure out that he's my boyfriend from the kiss he gave me or, perhaps from the way he was holding me, but turns out you're just a rude bitch who wants to slather her fingers all over my boyfriend!" you snap at her.
that makes a few people around you look over, and as much as you wanted to smack her across her face, you needed to maintain your standards.
"then where is he now? where's your boyfriend? and which forty year old brings his little girlfriend on a night out to a bar like-"
"there you are, sweetheart."
kento slides his arm around your waist, slipping into the seat next to yours.
nanami kento. thirty four. food critic! 6' 1", honey blonde hair slicked back, but a few pieces spill out on to his face, deep brown eyes that are both soft and sharp. his white shirt's sleeves rolled up to his elbows showing his thick forearms, veiny with light, golden hair. the bar and the girl in front of you almost fade to the back of your mind when his cologne hits your nose, sending you into a daze.
almost.
"ken!" you breathe.
"did i keep you too long? you know satoru, refusing to get to the point," he frowns, dropping a kiss on your forehead. "what's got you all worked up?"
"hey!"
his eyes leave yours to look at aiko. "yes?"
"how come she doesn't bring you around more often? she's always all by herself, in her own little world! so shy, really! i'm aiko, we go to class together!" she smiles at him, all cute and bubbly like.
"what are you trying to do?" you ask, shouldering youself between kento and her. "you trying to swoop in and show him a better life or something? do you need attention that bad?"
"oh my god, you guys, look she's getting all bothered!" she gasps to her friends around her. "no babe i didn't mean it like that, i just meant it like i am personally, SO happy that someone like you's found love, you know? even if it's with someone who is SO different from you, you're finally out of your shell, and clearly, there is someone for everyone!" she gushes, and then looks over your shoulder at kento.
"why are you looking at him, look at me," you interject, something finally snapping in you. kento can sense the change in you, and places his hands on your waist.
"sweetheart, i think- "
you appreciate it, but you can handle this, you're FINE.
"no no," you repeat, "look at me! because do you think he's gonna treat you the way he treats me? do you think he's gonna keep up with your bullshit, and your little friend group and not see you for the pathetic attention seeking loser you are? you think he's gonna buy you the stuff you want and take you to all your raves and whatnot? this man goes to sleep every night by eleven thirty! you don't see him at parties because he's thirty four fucking years old, and his definition of a night out is wine and fine dining, with ME! he treats me like this, and buys me whatever the fuck i want, because i'm me, he's not gonna treat you like that babe!"
"don't get all worked up!" aiko spits "we can just be friends, you know!" she twirls her hair, her eyes still on kento.
"what are you twirling your hair for? he's not even looking at you, the only thing that that's gonna do is make you even balder. spending all your time trying to poach another bitch's man the whole time your bald spot's been making direct eye contact with me."
she gasps, and deep down you know you would never say that to a girl unless she absolutely deserved it, and aiko has been begging for it.
kento squeezes your waist, standing up, towering over you from behind.
"baby, she said she just wanted to be friends, didn't she?" he asks. "why don't you give her my instagram?"
aiko chuckles, seeming to have recovered. she pushes her phone into his hands, instagram open, and he hands it over to you diligently.
you scoff and type in his username, pressing the follow button and shoving it back to her.
"now that that's done," sighs kento, holding you. "it's getting a little hot in here, isn't it honey? let's get this scarf off of you."
his hands unfasten the scarf that you had tied around your neck, that you're sure aiko just attributed to poor fashion sense. despite the previous chaos, your eyes follow his thick fingers as the open the knot, and unloop the scarf from around your neck, causing the scarf to slip out and leave you neck bare in the deep v neck top you had put on this morning.
deep red and purple bruises litter your neck, all the way down to your breasts, disappearing off behind the lace borders of the neck of your top.
kento stares at you, smug and unclouded desire clear on his face. he slides his hands up and holds the sides of your neck firmly, squeezing slightly. he pulls you closer and your lips meet in a deep kiss, his thumbs rubbing slow circles on your cheek. the kiss leaves you breathless as he pulls away and leans back in to place on more kiss on your wet, parted lips, taking you by surprise.
"that's perfect," he thumbs on one of the hickies, eyes never leaving you. "my perfect girl."
warmth floods up your chest and face. a smile can't help but spread across your face as you lean into him.
"let's go, love. dinner, wine and that eleven thirty nap time awaits us," he chuckles, taking your hand, gathering your bag and turning away to leave, not a single glance given to aiko.
aiko!
you turn to her, a lazy, easy grin on your face, glancing to her phone open with kento's instagram, and then back up at her. "happy stalking!"
aiko and her friends are sure to spend the night pouring over kento's instagram, which is filled to the brim with pictures of you, you and him, food, you, travel and his girlfriend, you.
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DO NOT REPOST
yay first fic!!!
likes, reblogs, comments HIGHLY appreciated 🩷
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babyleostuff · 3 months
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jealousy, jealousy | choi seungcheol
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fluff (+ a bit of angst) 𐙚 established relationship 𐙚 idol!cheol x gn!reader 𐙚 wc: 1.1k
. . . seungcheol getting jealous of a fictional character
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“cheol, it’s just a fictional character,” you sighed, trying to explain for the tenth time since you got out of the movie theatre that, yes - the main lead was hot, but no - you wouldn’t ever leave seungcheol for him.
sometimes you wondered if he was turning thirty or ten next year. 
you didn’t mean to be all heart eyes at the movies, but it wasn’t your fault the main lead was good looking, not that it even mattered - seungcheol had his celebrity crushes too, but you didn’t go around and whine about it. “you know it doesn’t mean anything, baby,” reaching over, you ran your fingers through his hair, like you always did whenever he was stressed or anxious, turning him into a puddle in your arms in a second.
“mhm,” your boyfriend mumbled, and gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter, not sparing you a single glance. you sighed and dropped your hand. 
any other time you’d find this situation quite amusing - cheol jealous of a fictional character you happened to gush over, if not for the fact that you knew exactly how this would end.
with a silent treatment and an extremely pouty boyfriend.
normally you found that side of him very endearing, but dealing with a jealous coups was not an easy task, partially because your boyfriend happened to be one of the most stubborn people in the world.
now it was him and his pout against the world.  
“you know i love you,” you said, and turned your body away from him towards the window. 
if he was going to act like a child, then so be it.
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“i’m a fucking idiot” seungcheol grumbled to himself, pulling his shirt over his head with a bit too much force, hitting himself in the head in the process. “fuck.” 
he couldn’t get the image of your soft gaze and gentle voice out of his head, when you tried to cheer him up in the car after he acted like a complete asshole. he was the last person that deserved your sweet affection, and he was so mad at himself for acting like a fucking toddler instead of pulling the car over and throwing himself into your arms to beg for forgiveness. 
“are you okay?” suddenly your voice pulled him out of his thoughts. you peeked through the door, and rubbed your eyes, already wearing his t-shirt that you always wore to sleep. the genuine concern in your eyes, and your adorably sleepy expression made seungcheol want to bang his head against the wall. 
how could he be so stupid, and get jealous and angry at you for finding a fictional character attractive? 
"uh, i'm fine, i just hit my head," he said quietly, not really looking at you. usually you’d immediately coo at him, and kiss the spot where he hit himself - of course you knew how much seungcheol loved your attention when he injured himself, even if it was just a scratch, but now he could only watch as you nodded and left without a word. 
he sighed, picking up his toothbrush to finish up his bedtime routine. there was no way he’d sleep in your bed tonight, seungcheol wouldn’t be able to lay next to you knowing how much he hurt you.
besides, there was so way you’d allow him to cuddle you after how he acted, and that was something he would not be able to stand. 
looking at his reflection in the mirror for the last time, seungcheol turned all of the lights in the bathroom, and padded over to your shared bedroom to take his pillow, and a blanket from the closet. 
he’d take the couch, it’d be less painful than sleeping in the same bed without being able to hug you. 
“what are you doing?” you suddenly asked, your voice laced with sleep. you pushed yourself up to take a better look at your boyfriend, who was standing at his side of the bed with what looked like his pillow and a blanket, his expression reminiscing one of a kicked puppy. “you have to be kidding me, choi seungcheol.” 
you looked so disappointed, and… annoyed? that was his last straw, and fuck every part of his dignity he had left - he’d beg on his knees for you forgiveness if that’s what it took. 
“ ‘m sorry, okay?” he said, his voice breaking. you could bet that if you turned the lights you’d see your boyfriend all teary eyed, not that it would surprise you - seungcheol was usually quite emotional when it came to you and your fights.
“i know there was no reason for me to get jealous and act like the biggest asshole about it, you didn’t deserve any of it,” he gripped the pillow tighter as if it would help. “and then i got so embarrassed of myself, i didn’t have the guts to tell you how sorry i was. please forgive me baby, i’m so sorry.” 
“oh, cheol,” you sighed and opened your arms. without a second thought, the boy threw the pillow aside and ran into your embrace, his strong arms wrapping tightly around your waist as if he was afraid that you were about to run away.
“i'm not mad at you,” you pressed your cheek against the side of his head, tangling your fingers in his hair. “okay, maybe i was at first, but that's only because you seriously act like a child sometimes.” seungcheol groaned, as if he didn’t know that already. 
you sat like that for a moment - your arms wrapped around his strong shoulders, with his head buried in your neck where he placed gentle kisses, just like the fight never happened. 
"did you seriously want to go to sleep on the couch?" you asked, kissing his forehead.
cheol leaned back, revealing the pouty lips, and his big doe eyes you knew so well. you could swear some day he’d be the death of you. "yeah, i wanted to. that was the plan," he admitted shyly, his thumbs running over your exposed hip.  
"you're so dramatic, cheollie," you sighed and shook your head, pushing his bangs out of his eyes. "why didn't you want to sleep with me, though?" 
your boyfriend groaned again, hiding in your neck like it was his safe space, pushing you back onto the bed with the force that he tackled you in. "i wouldn't be able to cuddle you," he murmured after a short while, like he was scared to admit it.  
"again, i didn't hear you." the truth was you heard him perfectly fine, but what was better than making your usually confident boyfriend shy and blushy. 
"i wouldn’t be able to cuddle you!" he huffed, looking at you again. "happy?" 
"very much, darling," you smiled at him. “now stop being a drama queen, and come to bed.” 
seungcheol nodded like a child that was just promised an ice cream, and scrambled out of your embrace, quickly grabbing his pillow from the ground. you smiled to yourself, watching your big teddy bear of a boyfriend crawl back into bed. 
“no more fighting, okay?” you murmured, your cheek pressed against his chest. “we just wasted a perfectly fine afternoon on your whining, you big baby.” 
seungcheol knew you didn’t mean to make him feel bad about what happened, he was sure you were probably used to his antics by now, but it didn’t change the fact that if it was up to him he’d spend the night worshipping you in every way he could just to show you how much he loved you. 
“i’m really sorry.” 
“it’s okay baby. let’s just sleep, yeah?” you said, and snuck your hand under his t-shirt, dragging you nails over his tummy. “and you know i’m yours, right? and that won’t change. ever.”
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taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @soul-is-a-strange-kid @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @chillseo @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @aaasia111 @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity
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mikeystrawberry · 4 months
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Today is Dungeons & Daddies’s 5th Anniversary!
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I haven’t been listening for nearly that long but the podcast and all its characters means a lot to me. Happy Anniversary!!!
Throwing the cropped sections under the cut because there’s a lot of stuff going on and I know Tumblr likes to throw half the pixel quality out the window. And also so I can ramble a bit about this piece!!!
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This piece has been months in the making, possibly an entire year. And by that I mean I’ve had a sketch of the comp scribbled on my whiteboard for ages because I wanted to save this specifically for 5th anni art. Now onto design stuff!
(First off a random thought: I really love how the garlic knot came out, I kind of want it as an enamel pin.)
I knew I wanted to make this a stained glass piece since the beginning, but I was also going to add flowers at one point but quickly dropped the idea. It felt like too much and I also didn’t want to fuss over flower language assignments for everyone. I was also going to add Doodler tentacles, but also dropped that idea pretty early. Kind of on accident, right at the end, I figured out how to make it even more stained glass-like but taking a duplicated lineart underneath the regular layer and turning the brightness all the way down, then setting it to overlay and adding a guassian blur. It’s very subtle but it adds that tiny bit of depth that makes it look more real. As for shading on the lineart/gold, I tried adding more highlight on the characters who died but once I evened everything out it wasn’t as noticeable anymore so I’m throwing that thought here so the attempt at least known lol.
The order of characters only changed a little bit from my original comp, I flipped the Wilsons and the Oaks so the rainbow could work. As for the anchors, specifically in season 2, I lined them up to the teens since the season 1 anchors lined up with each dad:
Tony —> Scary: his death was the beginning of Scary’s betrayal arc and also Willy killed him.
Guitar Pick —> Taylor: it’s not really aligned with Taylor at all, but the anchor was with Glenn so I put it next to his blunt.
Scroll —> Normal: was only because it was the last left to give him, but there’s the whole scene of him and Hermie in the Green Room so it still works!
Garlic Knot —> Link: one of two that he broke, but the more significant of the two with him telling Grant he never wants to see him again.
Small notes on the season 1 anchors: I put the layer of mold in the overnight oats but you can’t really tell with the overlay. And to make the supper bowl more interesting I added the fantasy sodas mix they dumped into it. The lure of actually drawn before so I just traced my own art lol.
As for the other smaller triangles, it took me a bit to figure out what I wanted to put there. I didn’t even think of adding the vehicles until two days ago but I’m so glad I did. I don’t really have my own take on the mascot version of the Doodler (yet?) so I borrowed the design from one of the stickers in their merch shop. Teeny was terrifying as just a front facing head so I made him cute again.
In the outer circles, I put what I felt was the most significant quotes for each family. I really wanted to use “It’s okay to be angry, it’s not okay to be cruel” but it was just a little too long.
That’s all I can think of! If you read all the way through, thank you for indulging me in my excitement to gush over this piece.
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evansbby · 4 months
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𝐖𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑☆.。.:*
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𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐈𝐈 - 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐚
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: mean jock!Ari Levinson x naive!reader, mean jock!Steve Rogers x naive!reader
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smutt, noncon, dubcon, daddy!kink, dd/lg vibes, choking, spanking, anal play, fingering, size difference, innocence kink, naive reader, 18+ only, minors dni!
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You never thought you'd be stuck between two beefy basketball players who have it out for each other - but which one do you choose?
𝐀/𝐍: This is part 3 of my fic, Wicked Games. I'm literally so nervous about posting this. This is 21k words long. I hope you enjoy and forgive any mistakes!
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“I told you, Wanda. I barely remember anything from last night,” you say, balancing the phone between your ear and shoulder as you manoeuvre the vacuum cleaner around your room. You’d woken up feeling like shit – hungover and with a terrible headache to boot. But a warm shower and some skincare later, you’d decided to do some chores in order to clear your mind. “I do remember you ditching me though.”
“I didn’t ditch you!” Wanda screeches from the other end of the line, and you wrinkle your nose, holding the phone away from your ear before she speaks again. “Curtis told me you’d left, and then he took me back to his place! I left you a message and everything, but maybe it didn’t send because the service was so shitty.”
You hadn’t received her message until you got home last night, along with about a dozen more from Ari which you also still hadn’t looked at, let alone responded to.
“Wait, you went home with Curtis?”
Wanda giggles, “Yeah. I didn’t think someone as popular as him would ever be interested in me but he was! And he was so good, and gentle too, and–”
You stay quiet, letting her gush on and on about her magical night with the basketball player, ooh-ing and aah-ing and gasping at all the right places. The truth was, the moment she’d mentioned Curtis’ name, the memory of him cornering you on the dancefloor and giving you drink after drink had all come back to you. How he’d offered to take you upstairs before Ari had interrupted… Oh, but what did that matter? It’s not like you didn’t already have your hands full with a basketball player of your own…
“So, what about you?” Wanda finally asks, “Do you really not remember anything?”
You inhale deeply, “I remember talking to Ari.”
No. You remembered more than that. You remembered the thumping music, the flashing lights, the crowd surging around you. His hands on your hips, his lips on your neck. His words in your ear. How he’d fucked you right there in front of everyone… All of that had come back to you in the shower this morning, but you’d been trying not to think about it ever since. All you could really do was persuade yourself that it was too dark and crowded for anyone to have seen that.
“Ew. Not that two-timer. Please tell me you didn’t fold.”
Scrunching your eyes shut, you bite your lip, “We hooked up.” You weren’t going to delve into the details of where you’d hooked up with him, though.
“OH MY GOD, WHY DO YOU ALWAYS DO THIS?!” Wanda screeches again, and you press your lips together. It was a valid question, but you just weren’t in the mood for a lecture.
“You ditched me and went home with Curtis. Please spare me the lecture, Wanda.”
She’s silent for a handful of seconds, “Okay fine. But how did you get home? Did Ari give you a lift?”
You frown, “He must have. I don’t really remember–”
At that moment, your eyes land on a blue and white varsity jacket draped over your desk chair, and your heart jolts all the way up to the roof of your mouth. Wanda’s voice prattles on, but the phone falls slightly from your hand.
Steve. You’d met a guy called Steve last night. It was slowly coming back to you now. How Ari had broken your heart in that bathroom, how you’d felt so alone and heartbroken the rest of the night. Blurred bits and pieces slowly join together like a jigsaw puzzle in your mind… Steve had found you, and you’d talked to him. And then…? Ari and Steve had faced off, and you’d chosen to leave with Steve…
You couldn’t remember anything after that. But surely Steve had called a cab and dropped you home, right? You had no recollection of what happened in the cab, however. You just have a vague memory of feeling cold and Steve giving you his jacket while you were both in the backseat. But that was the gentlemanly thing to do, as was dropping you home after the terrible night you’d had thanks to Ari.
“Hello? You still there??”
You blink, pressing the phone back against your ear, “Uh, yeah, I’m here. I don’t know what happened after that, but I got home safely so I guess that’s a win, right?”
Wanda agrees, before launching into a detailed account of how Curtis had let her sleep over and he’d even gotten her coffee in the morning after allowing her to sleep in. You sit there, half listening and half staring at Steve’s varsity jacket on your chair. Inexplicably, your fingers itch to touch the soft material, to hold it against your nose and see if you can detect a scent to try and remember more of what had happened last night. You have a vague memory of how heavy and secure it felt around your shoulders, but you can’t recall anything else no matter how hard you try.
A distinct rattling against your doorknob distracts you momentarily, and before you know what’s happening, your door flies open, and Ari appears. The spare key you’d given him clenched tightly in his fist, and a scowl on his handsome face.
“Why the fuck have you been ignoring my messages?” He snarls.
Seeing him now, seeing his devastatingly handsome face, his hair which is slightly wet at the ends, as if he just showered. His grey tank that clung to his body and showed off those incredible, tanned biceps. Oh God, seeing him now just makes you feel all weird, hurt and angry and helpless and yet so attracted to him all in one. And you wonder if all these conflicting emotions show on your own face as you stare him down.
You sniff in what you hope is a dismissive way, “I’m on the phone with Wanda right now.”
It takes him two seconds to cross the room, snatching the phone from your hands before speaking into it gruffly: “Fuck off, Carla.” He hangs up while you gape at him in shock and annoyance, before throwing your phone to the other end of your bed. “Answer me. I won’t repeat myself.”
He’d been messaging you nonstop all night and even this morning, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at them. Not after how much he’d hurt you last night in the bathroom.
“Why would I reply to your messages when I have nothing left to say to you?” You say, priding yourself on keeping your voice level and calm.
He scoffs, running a hand through his hair like he usually does when he feels insulted or frustrated, “Watch your tone. That’s no way to talk to someone who’s been worried sick about you since you let that asshole abduct you last night.”
Your jaw drops open, “Worried sick? Are you for real, Ari? You weren’t worried sick when you left me in that bathroom even after I begged you to stay with me.”
Ari blinks, crossing his arms over his chest, “You remember that?”
You side-step your vacuum and square up to him (as well as you could possible square up to someone who is almost double your height). “I remember how heartbroken I felt, how hopeless and drunk I was. And you… you didn’t even care! Not even a little bit…” Your voice breaks, and you hate it and you wish you were stronger but you feel your shoulders crumple and your eyes well with tears.
“Aww, baby…” Ari’s strong arms wrap around you, and he pulls you into his solid chest. And he smells so good, like fresh soap and aftershave, and his embrace is so familiar, so safe, and you hate him for that. “Don’t cry, baby. You know I hate it when you cry. Look, I didn’t want to leave you, but I had to. Sharon was making a scene and multiple people were looking for me.”
At the mention of her name, you push him away immediately and take a few steps backwards to create some distance between the two of you. No, you wouldn’t let him sweet-talk you this time, you wouldn’t fall victim to his manipulations. You were going to stand your ground.
“Don’t, okay? You don’t need to make all these excuses because you basically laid it all out on the table last night, Ari. I remember everything.”
“Baby, listen–”
“No, you listen! You strung me along for weeks, telling me you’d make me your girlfriend one day. I told you I’d do anything for you. I let you fuck me wherever, however you wanted! I begged you to stay, but you told me you already had a girlfriend, and now I know that if it came down to it, you’d always pick her over me. So, I’m done.”
You swallow back your tears and stand with your head held high, heart pounding at everything you’ve just said. But you also feel exhilarated, liberated because you’ve never voiced your thoughts to him like this before. And he just stands there, eyes narrowed as he stares you down and yet he says nothing, and you wonder if you’ve finally rendered someone like him speechless.
With triumph, you turn on your heel, walking past him and into your bathroom. You have nothing to do in there but you busy yourself with rearranging your lotions and creams, determined to ignore him until he leaves.
“I could take you out tonight,” he calls from the bedroom, “Like a real date. We could go to one of those Italian restaurants downtown. And we could stay at a hotel after that, I can easily get us a penthouse suite at the Hilton, I know you’d like that.”
You would like that. In fact, your heart lurches in excitement. A romantic, public date with Ari? Oh, that would be incredible! But your happiness is short-lived when you realise that none of it meant anything if he was still with Sharon. That meant this date would probably take place in the shadows of the night, with him on edge over someone spotting the two of you together. And you refused to be his second-choice, his dirty little secret, any longer.
“I’m not interested, Ari,” you mutter, pretending to read the label of your shampoo bottle. A minute passes before you look up, disappointed when he doesn’t answer. Had he left? Oh, you were hoping he would’ve stayed longer and grovelled a bit more. Or even grovelled at all because he still hadn’t apologised. You resist the urge to call his name as you stare hard at your shampoo bottle, so hard that the label blurs. Still nothing. You sigh before leaving the bathroom, heart sinking that he left.
But Ari’s still there, standing in the middle of your room. Deathly still, and in his hands is Steve’s blue and white varsity jacket. Shit. You’d completely forgotten it was there.
“This is his.” Ari says softly.
You don’t say anything.
His blue eyes meet yours, narrowed and accusatory, his jaw tense with contained anger. He holds the jacket up as if it’s a piece of damning evidence in a murder case, and you’re the convict on trial. You see a glimmer of betrayal on his face, and his lips press into a thin line.
“Why is this here?”
Your mouth suddenly feels dry. It’s like his demeanour has completely changed in the past thirty seconds. You’d never seen him so calmly angry before. It’s almost eery.
“I asked you a question.”
You chew on your lower lip, “I-I was feeling cold, so he–”
Again, he closes the gap between you with just two long strides. But this time, he pushes you against the wall, his hand going around your throat and giving you the strangest sense of dejavu.
“Was he in here? Did you let him fuck you?”
He shakes you when you don’t answer, and his fingers squeeze your throat threateningly.
“No, okay!” You say, feeling your windpipes close. Of course, you and Steve hadn’t slept together – all he’d done was give you a ride home, right??
“Did you let him touch you? Did you!?” He shakes you again, “Did you hook up with him? Tell me the fucking truth.”
“NO! Get the fuck off me!” You cry, pushing at him feebly.
“Do you remember everything? Tell me right fucking now, because if you don’t remember then that means that asshole took advantage of you while you were drunk.”
“I REMEMBER EVERYTHING, OKAY?!” You lie, “Nothing happened. H-He gave me his jacket because I felt cold, then he dropped me home. Nothing else happened, just let me go!”
Ari does let your throat go, but his menacing eyes never leave yours. You’ve never seen him so… affected before. He was always so cool, collected, so nonchalant… but right now, he almost looks frenzied. The sneer never leaves his face as his hand slips up to grab your jaw instead.
“Are you sure?” His every word is enunciated slowly, in a frighteningly level manner as he stares you down. “You better be fucking sure, because I know guys like him. He’s a fucking slimeball who would’ve been happy to touch you even if you were unconscious.”
Your heart sinks at that, but you know Ari’s just speaking out of anger. Steve had been so sweet, and he’d never do that. You were sure of it…
“All he did was give me a lift home!” You try to wiggle out of Ari’s grip but he holds you firmly against the wall, his huge body pinning you flat against it similar to how he had last night when he’d fucked you. Out of nowhere, a wave of anger surges through you, the memory of him using you and disposing of you flashing through your mind once again. And now he had the audacity to get mad at you for going home with someone else? The next words out of your mouth are spiteful:
“But it wouldn’t be a problem if I did hook up with Steve, would it? I mean, it’s not like I have a boyfriend.”
Quick as a wink, Ari flips you around, till your cheek is rammed up against the cold wall, and you can practically hear the angry rumble from his throat. He roughly yanks your shorts down your legs, along with your panties too. You struggle against him, but your protests die as his palm cracks down on your bare ass hard.
“Don’t you fucking even think about that.” Ari hisses, smacking your ass four times in quick succession.
“Stop!” You squeal, pushing back against him but he’s too big and strong, “Stop, you jerk! It hurts!”
“Don’t you ever even entertain the idea of hooking up with someone else.” Ari growls in your ear, his unforgiving hand raining slaps down on your poor, ass which already feels raw, “You’re mine. I own your whole fucking body and nobody else can touch you. Say it.”
You sob in pain, fighting against him, “No! You don’t respect me, you don’t–”
“That doesn’t fucking matter,” he says through clenched teeth. Roughly, he pulls your pyjama shorts down, and your panties are quick to follow. His palm collides with your ass over and over again, alternating between your two bare cheeks with unforgiving slaps whilst ignoring your cries of protest. “I had you first. That means you’re mine, and he can’t have you. No one can have you unless I fucking say so.”
Your eyes widen, his words chilling you down to the bone. Never before has Ari ever sounded so serious, so scary. You swallow harshly, before gasping when he pinches your ass meanly. It hurts, you feel like your ass is on fire as he resumes slapping it over and over again. His other hand holds you tightly by the hip to keep you in place – otherwise, with the force of his smacks, you’d have gone flying across the room.
“Stop it, Ari! Fucking stop it!” You beg, trying to keep resilient despite the fact that your backside is stinging so bad. The last thing you want to do right now is start crying and fall into a submissive stupor that has you begging for his forgiveness and approval. And you know that very well could happen, because that’s what’s always happened in the past when he’s punished you.
“Say it. Say you’re mine.”
“No! Fuck you!” You weren’t gonna give in to him. Not this time.
You squeal when his hand presses against your lower back, bending you over slightly. He spreads your glowing ass cheeks, swiping his finger up your slit. You squeeze your eyes shut when you hear him smirk at your wetness. Your body can’t help but respond to his touch… but it’s your mind and willpower that you need to keep strong right now.
“You won’t say it, huh? What, you decided to develop a mind of your own overnight?” He gathers your wetness on his finger, steering clear of your clit completely as his finger moves upwards instead. You clench involuntarily when you feel his digit probe your asshole, “I make all your decisions, you got that, sweetheart? I own you. I decide what you do, who you talk to, all of that shit.”
Oh, how was he so possessive over you when he couldn’t even call you his girlfriend? You just couldn’t understand him…
He forces his pointer finger into your asshole, making you scream out loud at the intrusion. He’s fingered your ass before, but never as roughly as now. You bite down on your lower lip – you’ve already screamed once but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of doing it again. His other hand leaves your hip to grab your hair, pulling your head back.
“Say you’re mine, or I’ll add another finger.”
“How can I be yours when you’re the one who doesn’t want me to be your girlfriend!?”
Ari scowls, and yet he doesn’t respond. Instead, he continues to spank your ass. And his finger continues to pump in and out of you, and you find yourself biting your lip now to suppress your moans.
There was just something so carnal, so raw, about him finger-fucking your ass. He was stoic and angry right now, but in the past Ari would always tell you how obsessed he was with your butt. How cute and round it was, how it drove him crazy when you bent down in your cute little skirts. How you had the type of ass that was always just begging for a smack. And he’d always find reasons to “punish” you, insisting on spanking you for the smallest of offences. He’d told you that he loved how needy you got when he spanked you, and how he knew it got you horny when he fingered your butt.
But right now, it seemed like Ari was more fuelled by anger and jealousy than lust. And a part of you, despite everything, the neediest and most insecure part of you is happy that he’s so jealous. That he’s so affected by the prospect of you getting with Steve. And yet… Yet it clearly isn’t enough to get him to leave Sharon for you…
“I own you.” He grunts in your ear, “I don’t fucking care if you say it or not. But you’re not gonna speak to Steve Rogers again. Do I make myself clear?”
He doesn’t wait for you to answer, probably because he knows you won’t right now. There’s a shift in energy, you both can feel it. You know he can sense your mind fighting against him harder than ever before. It’s in the way you keep your mouth clamped shut, despite inwardly wanting to moan in pleasure.
Ari slips his hand down your front, cupping your mound as he continues to finger your butt with his other hand. You suppress another gasp, fighting the urge to press against his palm. You hear him smirk again from behind you, grinding the heel of his hand against your clit. You exhale loudly, thrill shooting straight down to your core.
“Don’t think I give a fuck about you giving me the silent treatment,” he says into your ear, “Daddy can still make you cum harder than anyone else ever could, and you’ll cry like a fucking baby while you do it.”
His words go straight to your pussy and you clench hard. Your hips move on their own accord, thrusting forward to hump straight into his hand before you still them. But it feels so sinfully good, your clit rubbing against the hard heel of his palm. And it doesn’t help that he knows exactly how to move his hand against your bundle of nerves, circling and pressing and rubbing at you.
“Fuck,” you breathe.
“There she is,” Ari murmurs cockily, “There’s my girl. I guess the little baby didn’t lose her voice after all…”
“I mean, fuck you.”
He snorts, rapidly pressing his finger in and out of your puckered hole with such force that he rocks you forward, making your pussy press deliciously against his hand.
“You’ll listen to me,” he says beguilingly, licking the shell of your ear, “you’ll do exactly what I say. I don’t care if you want to throw a tantrum right now and act out and pretend you don’t want me anymore. I own your pussy, and I decide when we’re done. Not you. Me.”
You drop your head in shame, the pleasure in your tummy making you almost dizzy. Your body sags, surrendering to him physically as he mauls you. The tight walls of your ass swallow his finger up each time he thrusts into you with it, the force jolting you forward, making you dry hump his hand. Your ass burns and yet it feels so sexy, and you know you’re losing yourself; you know you’re losing the battle…
“Say it. Say who’s making you feel this good,” Ari breathes, rubbing your clit sensually, coaxing you to rut against his hand, to chase your pleasure while he dangles it in front of you like a carrot. “Nobody else will ever make you feel like this, you got that? Just me. So, say it.”
“Ari,” his name falls past your lips in a choked whisper, and you scrunch your eyes shut as you cum violently. You spasm in his arms, pussy walls clenching and releasing over and over again as you squirt all over his hand.
“That’s a good baby,” Ari coos, holding you up because your legs feel like jelly, and you can’t bring yourself to open your eyes. “It’s okay, you can be mad at daddy all you want. But I know what’s best for you, and I lo–” He pauses, clearing his throat and pressing his lips down on your neck, kissing and licking at your skin, “I own you, you got that?”
You don’t answer, and he walks backwards with you in his arms. He lays you down on the bed before making a show of licking your cream off his fingers. You lie there, watching him and trying to catch your breath. Coming down from that orgasmic high, a dark feeling manifesting in the pit of your stomach. You’d let him get to you…again.
“We’ll go out tonight,” Ari announces, “I’ll pick you up around nine, and we’ll go wherever you want to go.”
“No.”
His eyes narrow, “What?”
It takes you a second to gather up your strength to sit up. Your orgasm has weakened you – or maybe it’s the emotional weight of what you’re about to say next.
“I said no, Ari. I don’t want to go out with you.”
He blinks, but doesn’t say anything. You take that as your cue to continue.
“I’m done, okay? I’m serious this time. I don’t wanna be with you if you’re still with her.” You suck in your breath, looking somewhere beyond his shoulder because it’s too intimidating to meet his gaze. “I don’t wanna go on a date that starts at nine in the evening when it’s pitch-black outside, just because you can’t risk being seen with me. I deserve better than that.”
Ari crosses his arms over his chest, regarding you carefully and yet he still doesn’t say anything.
“A-And I deserved better last night. I didn’t deserve to be left alone in that bathroom. I was high, and drunk, and I begged you to stay with me,” you bow your head, “I-I deserve someone who isn’t embarrassed of being with me in public, Ari.”
“I’m not embarrassed of you, I just can’t–”
“You can’t risk it, I know. You have a girlfriend. And I wish to God it was me, but it’s not. So, I’m done trying to persuade you.”
He scoffs, “You don’t mean that. You’re just in a mood, but you’ll come crawling back to me the moment you start feeling needy again.”
You shake your head sadly, “Think whatever you want to think, Ari. I’m done.”
Sighing lowly, you keep your head bowed as you pick at a loose thread on your quilt. You can’t bare to look at him, because a part of you knows that looking at him would make you melt and then he’d have you back eating out of the palm of his hand. But you were done this time, you were so exponentially done, and–
“Listen to me,” In a flash, Ari grips your chin harshly between his thumb and forefinger. Forcing you to look into his menacing eyes that flash with indignation and anger. “If you end this now, then that’s it. We’re done. I won’t ever speak to you again.”
Your heart jolts, stunned by his harsh words. But that was what you’d decided you’d wanted, right? For you and him to be done? Or had you wanted him to grovel, apologise, break up with Sharon and shack up with you? Nevertheless, you try to remain strong.
“Okay. That’s fine.”
“I’m serious. I know you think this is some kind of game and you’re playing hard to get, but I swear to God, I will leave this room and never even look at you again. Is that what you fucking want?”
His face is inches from yours, and you try to read his eyes. Try to understand him on any level, try to detect if there’s an inkling of care behind those eyes, even an iota of love or adoration for you. A desperation to stay with you, be with you. But you can’t. His face is unreadable, like a mask. And so a lone tear breaks free and meanders down your cheek, and you speak in a broken whisper:
“Maybe it’s for the best…”
He backs away as if you’ve stung him, or flung a vial of poison right in his face. His eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring, chest rising and falling with each breath as he glares daggers at you. And a large part of you just wants to take it all back, to jump into his arms and burst out crying like you always do, and he’d make you feel better for the night and then leave before you woke up tomorrow. No, you had to stay strong.
Easily, like he’s slipping on that damned mask once more, Ari’s features morph from anger to nonchalance, and he straightens up and shakes his head.
“Fine. Then we’re done.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
He opens his mouth as if to say something else before thinking better of it. Instead, he turns and leaves without a second glance back at you, his fists balled up at his sides.  
It’s only when he’s gone, and the door slams shut with a crushing finality, that you allow yourself to burst into tears. Loud, wracking, sobbing tears, and one word falls past your lips in a choked whisper:
“Bye.”
***
Heartbreak felt strange. For one thing, it was constant. You missed Ari all the time in the days that followed. You thought it would get easier after a few days, but two weeks later and you still felt like your heart had been sawed in half. And every time you’d see him on campus, your heart would jolt.
In the past, he’d always smile at you or give you a wink – even if he was with his girlfriend. Now? You may as well have been invisible for all he cared. He never looked at you, or whenever his eyes did glance in your direction, it was like he’d see right through you or over your head. You didn’t exist to him anymore. And it hurt.
But isn’t this what you had wanted?
Well, yes. And yet, you can’t fathom how it’s actually happened. A large part of you had expected him to come crawling back to you like how he had last time. You’d expected your phone to blow up with texts and calls from him, expected him to show up at your door at midnight for a booty call, even. But nope. Radio silence. You and Ari were well and truly done and he’d moved on.
And often, when you were getting ready in the morning, your gaze would fall on the blue and white varsity jacket still draped on your chair and wonder if it was time for you to move on to someone else too…
But Ari still plagued your mind, and you didn’t know how you were supposed to contact Steve or even if you wanted to. After all, all he’d done was give you a ride home when you were messy drunk and probably at your most unattractive. He probably wasn’t even interested in you like that…
“Oh my Gosh, Curtis is coming this way. Do I look okay? Do I need to powder my nose again?” Wanda hisses at you. The two of you are sat on one of the wooden tables in the campus courtyard. She quickly grabs your compact, not waiting for you to answer as she scrutinises her reflection in the tiny mirror.
Oh, right. Another important advancement in the past two weeks: Wanda and Curtis were now a thing. Which made it even harder to avoid Ari, who was Curtis’ best friend. Even now, as you look beyond Wanda’s shoulder, you can see Curtis walking towards her with Ari right next to him. To your relief, Ari hangs back, getting his phone out instead.
“Hey, babe.” Curtis pulls up behind Wanda, wrapping his arms around her while she throws your compact back at you so she can squeeze his bicep. It hits you in the face and you huff to yourself as you put it away, pointedly trying not to look at the two of them while they start to make out. Watching them be a happy couple especially stung seeing as your own “relationship” had ended in such a disaster.
Looking beyond them proves to be a mistake, however. Ari’s now been joined by Sharon, and the two of them are also wrapped up in a kiss. God, what was with everyone? You scowl and look down at your lap.
“What’s wrong with your friend, sweetie?” Curtis asks Wanda, his voice dripping with smug amusement. You almost scoff out loud at the use of “your friend,” as if this man hadn’t been flirting with you the night of the party two weeks ago. You still haven’t mentioned that to Wanda – not when she’s so happy with him now.
“Oh, nothing. She’s always moody nowadays.” Wanda says flippantly, pulling him down to sit on the bench next to her as the two of them continue to kiss obnoxiously. The buzzcut-haired man squarely grabs her breast and gives it a squeeze – right out in the open! But Wanda only giggles, letting him pull her into his lap and feel her up as their make-out session takes a quick, R-rated turn.
“That’s my cue to leave,” you mutter to yourself, gathering your books and standing up. The happy couple doesn’t even glance your way or even acknowledge you’ve said anything. You sigh, wondering whether this was what the rest of your college experience would be like. You’d had your fun at the start of the year and now you were doomed to be the third wheel to these two…
“Oh my gosh, you’re the girl from that party, aren’t you?”
A high-pitched voice knocks you out of your hole of self-pity, and you almost run smack into… Sharon. She’s standing by your wooden table now, hand in hand with Ari, who looks like he wants to be anywhere but here.
“H-Huh?” Your mouth suddenly feels dry. You’ve never spoken to Sharon before – and how could you? How could you even look her in the eye after you’d spent weeks and weeks sleeping with her boyfriend?
“You’re the girl from the party,” Sharon repeats, elegantly raising her voice over the obscene making out sounds coming from Curtis and Wanda. “I was pretty drunk but I remember you! You were in that gorgeous red dress, right?”
Your heart’s racing, and you wish you could disappear. Instead, you nod and force a smile.
“Yeah, that was me. Hi.”
“I thought so! You have to tell me where you got that dress, girl! I honestly couldn’t stop talking about it. I mean, just ask my boyfriend!” She nudges Ari, who is trying his best to appear nonchalant, ignoring her as he texts someone on his phone. Sharon rolls her eyes before continuing, “I was totally off my face drunk, but if I remember anything, it’s that dress.”
You nod, forcing a tight smile. “I was pretty drunk too. And the dress is from this website called White Fox Boutique. Look, I have to go–”
“Did you get home okay?” Sharon interrupts, her face morphing into a look of concern. And God, you hate how kind she’s being. It would have been easier to swallow the fact that you’d slept with her boyfriend had she been a bitch. Not a ray of literal sunshine who was so pretty to boot – with messy blonde hair cascading down her back in perfect waves, and the sparkliest blue eyes. No wonder Ari had chosen her – she was absolutely stunning, and even more so up close.
“Yes, I got a lift home–”
“Oh, that’s right! You were with Steve Rogers, that guy from St. Jude’s!” Sharon says excitedly, clasping her manicured hands together before grabbing Ari’s bicep, “I didn’t know he had a girlfriend now. Although it’s a good thing we both had our boyfriends there that night to get us home safely.”
Ari snorts, finally deciding to contribute to the conversation: “He’s not her boyfriend.”
“Um, okay. And how would you know that, babe?” Sharon smiles sweetly up at him.
The brunet freezes, glancing at you for a nanosecond before he clears his throat. “That guy couldn’t hold down a girl if his life depended on it. He’s too volatile.”
Sharon rolls her eyes, “You’ll have to excuse my boyfriend. He has this weird rivalry thing with Steve Rogers. They’re both basketball players, you see.”
You nod, trying to pretend like this is all new information to you. “Uh, right. Well, Steve isn’t my boyfriend, actually. I only met him that night and he was kind enough to give me a lift home. Speaking of home, I gotta g–”
“You and Steve would make a cute couple,” Sharon muses, “you guys looked good together that night.”
You smile awkwardly, shifting from one foot to the other and not knowing what to say. She clearly had an excellent memory of that night considering she was off her face drunk for the majority of it.
You hear Ari huff while you’re wracking your brain for an excuse to leave. Sneaking a glance at him, you find him frowning, his hands curled up into fists by his side. Oh, he was affected! Did that mean he still cared? A lightbulb goes off in your head…
“M-Maybe I will go out with Steve. We’ve been texting a lot since that night.” Your voice comes out shaky, the lie feeling foreign on your tongue.
Ari glares daggers at you, “That’s a bad idea.”
Sharon slaps his chest lightly, “Don’t be rude! I think that’s a fabulous idea!”
The brunet bristles and looks down at his girlfriend with an annoyed look on his face, “Don’t you have a class you need to be getting to?”
“I do but–”
“Go.”
Your eyes widen at his gruff tone, and you’re even more surprised when Sharon nods at his command. What was it about Ari that made every girl around him bow down to his authority so easily? You’d been guilty of it too in the past…
“Okay, grumpy-pants,” she says easily before turning to you, “it was nice meeting you! I’m Sharon, by the way.”
You tell her your name.
“Cool, I’ll find you on Instagram. You can text me the details of your dress there!” She says happily, and all you can do is nod while Ari continues staring at you with a steely expression on his face. Clearly, he was bothered by the idea of you and Steve texting! So what if it wasn’t even true?
You stare back at him defiantly, finally feeling like you’ve gained the upper hand in the two weeks since you two have been apart.
In response, Ari narrows his eyes, grabbing Sharon as she’s about to walk away. Your heart drops when he kisses her right in front of you, his gaze fixed on you as his lips move against hers. You feel your face grow hot, then cold, then hot again, heart feeling like someone’s shredding it into pieces. How could he? Your eyes well with tears, but you fight to keep them at bay because you can’t cry here, not in front of everyone.
He continues making out with her, being as obscene as possible as his eyes lock with yours, and you just stand there, frozen and gormless, not even able to look away. Finally, after what feels like ten years, they break apart. Sharon giggles, and Ari slaps her ass before sending her on her way. You wish you could gouge your eyes out.
“You’re unbelievable.” You mutter lowly once Sharon is out of earshot.
“And you’re a liar.”
“What?”
Ari steps closer to you, “I can always tell when you’re lying. You’re not texting Steve.”
You roll your eyes before pushing past him, “It’s none of your business anyways.”
Curtis – you’d forgotten he was even there – breaks a kiss with Wanda to grin up at you. “Don’t mind Ari, he’s just been extremely crabby lately. Not getting laid does that to people.” He goes in for another kiss, adding against Wanda’s lips, “Same can’t be said about you and me, huh, sweetheart?”
Ugh.
“Wanda, I’m leaving. Are you coming?” You ask, doing your best to ignore the two basketball players.
“What? Uh, no, I’m busy,” your friend answers distractedly before Curtis pulls her back in for another kiss.
“You’ll stay away from Steve if you know what’s best for you.” Ari says quietly.
Great. Was he seriously threatening you now?
“I’ll do whatever I want,” you raise your chin up at him defiantly once more.
Ari scowls, running a hand through his hair. You know him well enough to know that he does that when he’s frustrated. “Look, I’m being serious. It’s for your own good–”
“Why do you even care? I thought we were done, Ari.”
“We are done.”
“Then leave me the fuck alone, okay!? I’ll date whoever I want to date.”
“Not him.”
“Yes, him.”
“No.”
“Yes!”
“We’ll vacate this bench if you two need the space to fuck.” Curtis offers jokingly, but both of you ignore him as you stare each other down.
Finally, you huff, attempting to sidestep him but he’s way too big and easily blocks your path. A second attempt, and he blocks you again – and this time he has the audacity to smirk amusedly. That boils your blood, and you glare up at him. How dare he try and tell you who you could and couldn’t date? When he just made out with Sharon five inches away from your face not even two minutes ago!?
 “Just listen to me for once,” Ari grabs your wrist but you’re quick to tug it back. His scowl deepens, but he doesn’t grab you again, “Steve is bad news. He–”
“He can’t be any worse than the guys I already do know.” You cut him off pointedly before turning around and walking away without a second glance.
***
“I can’t believe I let you drag me here.”
You’re all too familiar with the university’s basketball court – you used to come here all the time to watch Ari play. That didn’t mean you wanted to be here now. In fact, it was the last place you wanted to be, and you’d told Wanda that several times but she wouldn’t hear any of it.
Wanda rolls her eyes, “Curtis is playing, and as his girlfriend, I need to be there for moral support.”
You wrinkle your nose; she’d only been going out with Curtis for a few weeks now and yet she was running around acting like Curtis was the president and she was the first lady or something. She didn’t really have any time to be your best friend anymore. You and Wanda had bonded at the start of the academic year – doing everything from attending society meetings together to having movie nights and sleep overs.
But now, it was all “Curtis wants me to go to this new club with him,” and “Curtis says that it’s okay to bunk lectures once in a while!” and “Oh sorry, I can’t hang out tonight – Curtis’ schedule just got cleared up so he needs me to go to his room.” It made you wonder whether you’d been this insufferable too when you were with Ari.
“Moral support? Wanda, this isn’t even a proper game. It’s just a practice,” you remind her, “and anyways, I don’t know what I’m doing here. It’s not like I’m dating Curtis.”
“Of course not, you’re not his type at all. I just couldn’t show up alone, that’s just sad,” says Wanda before she spies Curtis in the corner of the court with a few other teammates, all of them stretching and doing warm-ups. She waves at him like mad, blowing kisses in his direction. He shoots her a quick smile before turning around to talk to a nearby cheerleader.
You spot a familiar figure, tanned, tall and muscular with his long brown hair pushed back with one of those metal wire headbands that men wore, barking out a game plan to the rest of his team. Ari. You freeze.
“Wanda!” You hiss, tugging hard at her sleeve, “You said that Curtis told you that Ari was sick and wouldn’t be at practice today!”
Wanda blinks, “Oh. That was a lie.”
“What!?”
She shrugs, “Come on. I needed you here today and I knew there was no way you’d come if you knew Ari was here. Hey, does my lip gloss look okay, by the way? I’m gonna go say hi to Curtis.”
“Don’t leave me all by myself!”
Wanda rolls her eyes, tugging her arm out of your grasp, “You’ll be fine. I’ll be right back anyways. In the meantime, just find us a good spot to sit. Somewhere close to the front where Curtis will be able to see me.”
And she’s gone before you know it. Great. The last thing you needed right now was Ari thinking you’d come here specifically to see him play. And with his big head – that’s exactly what he’d think. You contemplate just leaving – you could tell Wanda that you’d had a medical emergency or something. Or maybe you could just sit somewhere in the back or hide in the bleachers, and Ari would never have to know you were here. He was too busy ordering his team around, he hadn’t noticed you yet anyways, and maybe you could–
“Sweetheart, I was hoping I’d see you here.”
A warm hand grasps your waist, and your first reaction is to jump back and smack whoever’s touching you in such a forward way. But then you turn, being met by a sturdy chest covered by a blue and white St. Jude’s basketball jersey. Golden hair. Sparkling blue eyes. Angelic face.
“Steve!” You exclaim, before realising that you sound way too happy to see someone who is essentially still a stranger to you. You clear your throat, trying to sound more casual. “Wh-What are you doing here?”
“Our court is being renovated, so we got permission to practice here with your team.” He flashes you a bright smile, his hand still on your waist, his thumb stroking you from over your blouse. His eyes rake over you unabashedly, and you find yourself growing hot under his gaze. “This is a really pretty outfit you got on, sweetheart. Is it for anyone in particular?”
You were wearing a pink blouse and cardigan set, with a matching pink tennis skirt which had unfortunately shrunk in the washing machine. You’d still worn it though, promising yourself you wouldn’t make the mistake of bending over and giving everyone within close vicinity a good eyeful of your panties.
“Oh, uh, no, not for anyone in particular,” you babble. You feel nervous around him, but not necessarily in a bad way. “Thanks for getting me home safely that night, by the way. I, uh, I meant to thank you the next morning but I didn’t have your number or anything.”
Steve nods, shooting you a wink, “That’s alright, princess. I think it’s me who should be thanking you for that night.” His hand slips down to your hip, giving it a warm, meaningful squeeze.
You frown, “Why would you be thanking me? I didn’t do anything.” Your Uber ride home with Steve was still a blur to you, but you doubt anything eventful had happened during it. “Oh, don’t tell me I kept you entertained with all my drunken chatter. I’m sorry, I do that sometimes, and I was so embarrassingly drunk that night.”
He blinks, before a slow smile spreads across his face, “Baby girl, don’t you remember?”
“I remember me being a total embarrassment, and you being a total gentleman. You even gave me your jacket and I still have it now!” You say brightly, picturing his varsity jacket still hung up on your desk chair back in your dorm room. “I wanted to return it to you but you never called, or texted, or…” your eyes widen when you realise what you’ve said, “I mean, not that I expected you to call me. I understand that all you did was give me a lift home. I’m not insinuating that you had to call me, or that you’re attracted to me–”
“Hey, hey, hey,” Steve easily grabs your chin before his thumb brushes upwards over your lips, effectively shutting you up. His eyes are intense, and so close, his lashes fanning his cheekbones as he looks down at you, “I am attracted to you.” He says squarely, before chuckling, “I thought that much was obvious. I should’ve gotten your number that night, baby girl, but you’d been drinking a lot.” His eyes glint as he licks his lips, “And I’d never take advantage of you when you were drunk.”
Oh, he was such a gentleman! Of course, he’d never take advantage of you while you were drunk! Unlike dumb, stupid Ari! As if on cue, you look beyond Steve’s shoulder, the tiniest part of you hoping that Ari’s watching this interaction between you and the blonde. But the brunet is busy warming up now, grunting as he does his push-ups in the corner of the gym, his tanned, muscular arms bulging. You almost bite your lip before focusing back on Steve.
“Give me your phone,” Steve says suddenly, and you’re obeying him before you’ve even registered what he’s asked. He smirks, taking it from you and typing his number in, saving it before handing it back to you. “You’ll text me tonight, won’t you?”
Was he asking you or was he telling you? Either way, you find yourself nodding.
His eyes bore into yours, “Say it, then. Say you’ll text me tonight.”
Oh, he was so intense! But you don’t seem to mind one bit. Again, you nod. “Y-Yes, Steve. I’ll text you tonight.”
He gives you a relaxed smile, “Good. We can discuss where I’ll take you on our first date.”
A thrill ripples through you. A date?! You’d never been on a date before! Oh wow, this was–
“Hey, you guys!”
Sharon’s bright voice echoes across the gym as she makes her way over towards the two of you. Sharon. Of course. Of course, she’d be here – she was a cheerleader. And she looked beautiful as she always did, with her blonde hair piled up in a messy bun, her cute cheerleading outfit accentuating all her curves perfectly. You’re hit with a sudden wave of insecurity – would Steve forget about you now that she was here? – but you try to keep it at bay.
The truth was, Sharon had requested you on Instagram a few days ago as she’d promised she would. And you’d had to follow her back, which was painful enough seeing as half of her pictures were her with Ari. But she was sweet when she texted you asking about where your red dress was from, and a few more mini-conversations and a bit of small talk later, clearly, she thought the two of you were friends.
“I’m so glad you’re here!” Sharon squeals, giving you a quick hug which you reciprocate whilst wondering why exactly she’s so happy to see you. She nods at Steve with a humorous twinkle in her eye, “And you’re Steve Rogers, aka Ari’s best friend in the whole world.”
Steve snorts, “Yep. That’s me.”
She giggles, looking from him to you and back to him again, “Let me guess. You guys are a couple now.”
You shake your head, “No, we–”
“–We are.” Steve cuts you off, winking at Sharon before wrapping his arm properly around your waist and pulling you into him. Your eyes widen, cheeks feeling hot. You weren’t at all used to public displays of affection like this, nor were you used to anyone being as forward as Steve was being right now. After all, this was only your second time meeting him- how was he already telling people you were together? And why weren’t you objecting to it?
Sharon clasps her hands together excitedly, “Yay! I told her you guys would make the cutest couple.”
Steve chuckles, and your eyes widen when his hand meanders downward. His palm settles on your ass, cupping it as he casually speaks to Sharon. She’s in front of you, so she can’t see it, but your eyes nearly bug out of your head as you feel his big, warm hand cup your ass through your tennis skirt, even giving it a squeeze.
“Careful, Sharon. You might get in trouble if your boyfriend sees you talking to me.” Steve jokes airily, as if he isn’t kneading your ass cheek at the same time. Your face is on fire, but you also feel your walls clench, turned on by the extra attention he’s giving you as he nonchalantly talks to someone else. It’s hot.
“Pfft, no way. Ari doesn’t care who I talk to, he’s not really the possessive type.”
“Interesting…” Steve murmurs softly, almost to himself.
“Look, there he is now,” Sharon waves across the court, “Hey, babe!”
You follow her gaze, watching Ari as he dribbles the basketball casually. Upon hearing her voice, he looks up. He’s got a disinterested look on his face as he nods in acknowledgement at Sharon, but then his eyes meet yours. And it’s like the whole world freezes over, and your body freezes and your blood freezes.
Ari’s face contorts from disinterest to shock as he drinks in you standing with Steve. You feel your chest tighten, as if your body can’t decide between feeling triumphant that you’re making Ari jealous, or upset that you’re making Ari jealous. Either way, you hear Steve smirk, and then he pulls you closer, giving your ass an even harder squeeze that has you yelping.
The shock on Ari’s face quickly morphs into hatred and disdain. He’s all the way across the court, and yet you can see his knuckles redden as he grips the ball so tightly you fear it may explode. A part of you wants to move away from Steve out of respect for Ari, but you couldn’t do that even if you wanted to. Steve’s grip is like iron around you, his palm glued to your ass as if he owns it.
Almost like he’s doing it on purpose…
You don’t know what to expect from Ari, but you brace yourself nevertheless as he makes his way over. But the dark look on his face has melted away, and by the time he reaches you, he looks cool as a cucumber, almost as if he’s slipped on a mask of nonchalance at the drop of a dime. You always wondered how he did that so easily…
“Why aren’t you out there cheering me on?” He asks Sharon, pulling her into his chest and pointedly kissing her. Your blood starts boiling once more and you subconsciously sidestep closer to Steve, lifting your chin up in defiance in Ari’s direction. The brunette side-eyes you and clutches Sharon closer in return.  
Sharon beams up at Ari, “I was talking to Y/N. I’ll go in a second, because the squad is starting a new routine today and I want us to get it down in time for the next big game, and–”
But Ari’s no longer listening to her; him and Steve have now locked gazes much like how they did weeks ago at the party.
“I’m not sure why you even decided to show up today, Steve.” Ari breaks the steely silence first, “No amount of practice could help your godawful team beat mine.”
Steve smirks, undeterred. Pointedly, his arm tightens around you. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that. Something tells me you’ll be distracted tonight.”
Ari – somehow – looks equally unbothered, never breaking eye contact with Steve. You think you see his lip curl into a snarl for a millisecond, but it’s gone before you can be sure. “Even distracted, I’d still beat your ass.”
The blond snorts, “Your overconfidence is going to cost you, Ari. It’s what made you lose her.”
“Lose who?” asks Sharon, but she quickly grows distracted by the cheerleaders that are in the corner of the court, “Ugh, I gotta go. They’re trying to practice the pyramid and we need six of us to make it work. I’ll catch you later, okay? Please don’t try to kill Steve while I’m gone.” She kisses Ari’s cheek before waving at you and Steve and skipping away.
That just leaves you, standing frozen by Steve’s side while the two men lock eyes in their silent battle. And why does it kind of hurt, the fact that Ari hasn’t looked at you even once throughout it? In a way, you’re relieved that all they seem to be disagreeing over is basketball and who would beat who (aka lame boy stuff). But then that in turn makes you wonder: Is Ari not even affected by Steve’s arm around you? But then why did you even care if he was or wasn’t affected? And how was Steve being so forward, and, and, and–
“I-I gotta go. Wanda’s calling for me.” You lie, slipping out of Steve’s grip and scurrying away. The energy bouncing off both of them made you feel nervous, on edge, almost unsafe. You look back over your shoulder now to see them still staring at each other. Cold, barren stares that seemed to have grown more intense now that you’d left. It makes you gulp, and you wonder if it’s just a basketball rivalry between them after all – or it it’s something more.
“Where the hell have you been? Didn’t I tell you to find us good seats?” Wanda rolls her eyes, grabbing your hand and yanking you over to the last remaining front row seats. You try to clear your head of any thoughts of Ari or Steve, instead marvelling over how many people had showed up to watch these two teams play together in what was just a practice match.
“I was, uh, I just saw Steve.”
“Who?”
“He’s the… he gave me a lift home the night of the party.”
Wanda wrinkles her nose, about to say something before she grows distracted, “Look! There’s Curtis! The game’s about to start!!”
You never held much of an interest in basketball, even when you used to watch Ari play. But now, you pay attention carefully as the teams hit the court. Ari’s team have maroon jerseys and Steve’s team are in blue. They huddle on opposite sides of the court before the coach blows a whistle and they start playing.
“Look how good Curtis looks in his jersey,” Wanda gushes.
Ari looks pretty good too, you almost say out loud. And Steve too.
Both Ari and Steve were very similar on the court. Both the respective captains of their own team, you observe them ordering their teammates around, calling out strategies and gameplans, hyping the players up. They moved around similarly too, both so big and beefy and yet so fluid and lithe when dribbling the ball across the court. They were both clearly the most talented players out of everyone, yet you couldn’t tell who was better between the two of them.
“C’mon Rogers, is that the best you can do!?” Ari taunts after shooting an easy three-pointer about a minute into the game.
Steve rolls his eyes before beckoning one of his teammates closer. He’s a brunette with “Barnes” printed on the back of his jersey. The two of them confer for a few seconds while Ari and Curtis laugh and gloat with their own teammates. Then the coach blows the whistle again.
You zone out for a while, the maroon and blue jerseys becoming a blur as they whiz across the court. A bunch more points scored, the roar of the crowd, Wanda shrieking happily every time Curtis scores or jogs close to your seats. You, however, are much more interested in the way Steve had brazenly felt you up just now before this practice match had begun. Or how Ari hadn’t even looked at you when he’d come over to confront Steve. Or how…
“You fucking tripped him.” Steve seethes, the frustration in his voice carrying across the court and making you refocus on the game which has suddenly halted. The blond looks pissed, a borderline lethal look on his face as he kneels down next to his teammate. The brunette, “Barnes” is on the shiny floor, clutching his knee in pain.
Ari shrugs, “No I didn’t.”
Curtis snickers behind him.
Steve gets to his feet and shakes his head, but he barely has time to react before Ari throws the ball at him. Hard. It hits Steve squarely on the chest before he catches it, his jaw twitching as he does.
“C’mon, Rogers. You got a sub for your friend or are we gonna have to call it like last time?” Ari grins.
The brunet called Barnes limps to his feet, “Nah, I can play.”
Ari frowns. But the coach blows the whistle and the game resumes. This time, you pay closer attention. You note how Curtis is playing dirty, shadowing Barnes till he’s nearly on top of him, even trampling on his feet a few times.
And it’s meant to just be a practice game, but Ari and Steve look like they’re playing in the basketball world championships – or whatever it was called, it’s not like you would know. Both look stone-faced and determined, stealing the ball from each other multiple times, blocking each other, not letting each other shoot. They seem to be within a game of their own, one which was mental almost as much as it was physical.
“Is that all you got, Steve?” Ari taunts as he steals the ball from the blonde.
“Shut the fuck up,” Steve mutters, stealing the ball straight back.
Back and forth it goes, neither of them letting the other shoot. Taunting and jeering each other every chance they get.
“What’s the deal with them?” You find yourself asking Wanda, your eyes glued to the court, “Why do they hate each other so much? Has Curtis ever told you?”
Wanda shrugs, “All I know is that the last time our team played against Steve’s, he lost it and got a yellow card, making his whole team lose. Curtis told me that. Basketball is a competitive game, Y/N. I thought you knew that.”
This seemed more than just a silly sports rivalry, though…
“I fucking saw that, you bald fuck!” Steve rages at Curtis, halting the game once more. “If you trip another one of my guys one more fucking time–”
“You’ll what? Blow your top off and get another yellow card?” Ari smoothly steps in front of Steve, squaring up to the blond with a smirk on his face, “Not a single person in here would be surprised, pretty boy.”
In a flash, Steve has hold of the front of Ari’s jersey, “Keep fucking talking–”
Ari doesn’t back down, and your heart begins to thud like crazy as you watch them. They’re quite close to where you and Wanda are sat, but you have to lean forward to hear what exactly they’re saying.
“Not so fucking smug now, are you?” The brunet sneers lowly. “Thought you could dangle her in front of my fucking face? But you can’t keep a girl, pretty boy. And you can’t keep your cool either.”
They’re like two Adonises, one as ripped as the other. One every bit as tall and built as the other. One every bit as handsome as the other. And both with an equal look of hatred on their faces, a kind of deep-seated hatred that made you uncomfortable, that chilled you down to your bones as you sit frozen in place, watching it all unfold.
“Shut the fuck up,” Steve murmurs threateningly, a blue vein in his forehead looking like it’s about to pop.
Ari smiles coolly, “Or what? Gonna let your team down again, Rogers? Maybe a yellow’s not enough for you, maybe you’re aiming for a red card this time, huh?”
“A red card’s worth splitting your fucking skull–”
“ROGERS, LEVINSON, BREAK IT UP!”
You jump when both the teams’ coaches blow their whistles, making their way over to the two captains. Curtis drags Ari away, and a guy with “Wilson” on his jersey, as well as Barnes both pull Steve in the other direction too. A five-minute recess is called, and you can’t believe what you’ve just seen.
In his team’s respective corner, you watch as Ari snatches up a bottle of water and takes a long swig before pouring the rest of it over his head, as if to cool himself down. Swivelling your eyes, you see Steve in his team’s corner of the court, his hands curled into fists by his side as Barnes and Wilson speak lowly to him. But his blue eyes seem far, far away. And his jaw remains tensed, a dark, almost unreadable look on his face.
The game resumes, but this time it feels different. The dynamic between the two men is completely juxtaposed from what it was the night of the party. Then, Steve seemed in control, laughing as Ari lost his cool. Now, it’s the complete opposite. Ari seems to have recovered from the scuffle, resuming his taunts and insults as he dribbles the ball up and down the court like a pro. But Steve is somewhat out of it, still playing well but almost as if he’s out-of-sync with himself, as if his mind is elsewhere.
And Ari seems to have picked up on it.
“What’s the matter, Rogers? About to lose it again?” Ari snickers after he’s dodged Steve and scored another three-pointer.
Steve says nothing.
St. Andrews (Ari’s team) is up by three points. There’s no scoreboard as it was just a practice and not an official match, but there’s a freshman in the front row – Jake Jensen – who’s acting like a play-by-play commentator.
“Will Steve Rogers lose his marbles and cost his team another match?” Jake speaks into his headset in a suspenseful tone, “Will this all-star athlete crack under the pressure? Will he succumb to the opposition’s tireless taunts? Will the golden boy lose his cool once more? Will he–”
Steve swiftly tosses the ball aside, and the ref barely has time to blow the whistle to call for a time out before the blond grabs Jake Jensen by the collar and hoists him up in the air as if the freshman weighs nothing more than a feather.
“You say one more fucking word, I’ll shove this headset up your fucking ass, got that?” Steve shoves Jensen back in his seat before throwing the poor freshman’s headset at his face, knocking his glasses off. Jake swallows and nods, his mouth clamped shut and a frightened look on his face.
You bite your lip and watch as Steve returns to the game. He’s still got that far-away look in his face, as if he isn’t quite one hundred percent there. He also looks agitated, rattled, unnerved. You feel wary of him, and yet at the same time you also feel a pang of pity, a part of you wanting to go up there and give him a hug despite the fact that you don’t know him like that.
The game starts up again, and quite frankly, you really just want this damned practice to end already. The atmosphere is so intense, so thick, you could practically cut through it with a knife. Steve scores a point, then Ari does, then Steve, then Ari – it’s almost like they’re playing a one-on-one match and everyone else on the court is a paid actor.
“You’re losing your edge, pretty boy,” Ari starts his taunting once more, “Do it. Lose it. Let everyone down, Rogers. Show everyone what a–
“GODDAMIT, JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP!”
 Steve explodes. What happens next happens very quickly. Steve, in a fleeting fit of rage, throws the ball straight at Ari’s face. Hard. Except Ari dodges it just in time. You hardly register what happens after that, and –
THWACK.
The ball hits you right in the face.
Commotion around you. Yelling. Whistles blowing. People talking. Whispers of your name. You think you even hear a snicker from right next to you. And yet you hardly take in any of it, trying your best to catch your breath. Your ears are ringing, your face burning with immediate pain.
Oh god, oh god, oh my god!
“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” Ari roars at Steve.
You try and find your voice, try to voice that you’re okay, try to grab for Wanda’s hand but it’s like you’re stunned into place. And truth be told, you’re not okay. The whole right side of your face where the basketball hit you hardest throbs in pain. You can even feel the tears brimming in your eyes. Oh, but you can’t cry here, you just can’t! But it hurts! Oh, it hurts so bad!
The next thing you know, you’re being scooped up into someone’s muscular arms.
“Are you okay?” It’s Ari. You blink several times to clear your fuzzy vision. Were you imagining him? No, his arms feel very solid and familiar around you as he lifts you up, carrying you out of the crowd and to the side of the court.
“It hurts!” You can’t help but whimper, feeling like a baby. A disoriented, helpless baby.
“Oh my gosh, is she okay?!” You hear Sharon run up to you two. Shit. Ari wouldn’t be caught dead holding you in his arms in front of his girlfriend, would he? Despite your disoriented state, despite all the pain, you brace yourself for him to drop you.
“Go get some ice,” Ari orders her. “There’s an ice box in the locker room. Go.”
You’re too preoccupied with your throbbing face to really notice Sharon’s reaction, but she dutifully does what he tells her.
“It’s okay, you’ll be okay,” He murmurs, brushing your hair out of your face.
“I’m sorry,” Now you hear Steve’s voice, a scuffle which was him probably pushing past people. You try to straighten up in Ari’s arms so you can look at the blond, but dizziness overtakes you. You can still hear him though, despite the ringing in your ear, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”
“You stay the fuck away from her,” Ari growls.
“Shut the fuck up, I wasn’t talking to you.”
“Yeah? Well, I’m talking to you, asshole. You’ve already done enough.”
Ari walks away with you in his arms. You’re finally able to look over his shoulder as he carries you, and catch one last glimpse of Steve just standing there. He’s staring at his hand, flexing it in front of him as if he can’t believe what he’s just done. But it wasn’t his fault, was it?! You can’t think straight, and your face throbs with pain if you try to touch it.
“I can’t fucking believe him,” Ari fumes, as he walks the two of you into a bathroom off the side of the court. You welcome the privacy, being away from the multiple pairs of eyes that had been ogling you when the basketball had hit your face. He gently sits you down on the sink before grabbing a first aid kit that’s conveniently in one of the drawers. “I told you he was trouble, didn’t I? Now he’s physically attacked you in front of everyone. He’s a fucking psychopath–”
“Ari, it hurts,” you interrupt, your voice all wobbly.
The brunet’s features soften. He’s got an ointment in one hand, but he uses his other one to brush your cheek, coming up to stand between your dangling legs.
“This’ll numb the pain.” He says, his voice soft like a cloud. And you’ve never felt this type of softness from him before. Especially not in the past few weeks whilst he’s been giving you the cold shoulder. He spreads the numbing ointment over and around your eye, and you sigh, feeling a little relief.
“That’s a good girl,” Ari murmurs, his hand coming to rest on your leg and giving it a squeeze, “He got you straight in the eye, that dumb fucking prick. It’s definitely gonna bruise, but you’re doing so good, baby. You’re being such a brave little girl.”
Oh god, the way he was speaking was giving you butterflies! Why was he doing it? Did he still care about you?!
“Why are you being so nice?” You blurt out, the pain on your face making you deliriously bold.
Ari snorts, squeezing your thigh, “Baby, I can be nice. You know that.”
Well, he’d been awful these past few weeks. He’d been awful to you the night of the party, too. And yet… You can feel yourself slipping, getting lost in his blue eyes that seem to be sparkling with earnesty, and– No! No, you weren’t going to let yourself go there. Not this time!
“Y-You weren’t being so nice to Steve tonight.” You accuse, trying to shake off the romantic tension that seems to be creeping up on both of you, trapping you in that bubble of desire that you always seem to find yourself in alone with him.
Ari scoffs. “Don’t defend that asshole, not after he gave you a black eye.”
“He didn’t mean to!”
“Didn’t I tell you to stay away from him? That he was bad news?” Ari’s hand doesn’t leave your bare thigh, and you’re acutely aware of his thumb stroking your skin softly. “Now he’s gone and hurt you just like I knew he would.”
“You were goading him the whole time, Ari!”
“That doesn’t give him the excuse to physically assault you.”
“That’s not what it was!” You try to frown, but it makes your eye throb with pain, and you wince instead.
“Well, either way, you’re never gonna see him again after tonight.” Ari declares.
Your jaw drops open, “Excuse me?”
He meets your gaze squarely, the hint of an amused smile touching his lips, “You heard me. He’s too volatile, and if you had listened to me, you’d know that.”
“He only blew up like that because you wouldn’t stop insulting him!”
It’s his turn to frown, “He blew up like that because that’s who he is.”
You regard Ari suspiciously, “How do you know him so well?”
Ari sighs, suddenly devoting all his attention to screwing the cap back on to the ointment bottle. He takes his time, carefully placing the bottle back in the first aid kit before he refocuses on you. You expect him to answer your question, but instead he cups your face (the side that hadn’t been hit by a basketball).
“Sweetheart, the bottom line is that he hurt you.” Ari’s voice drops a few octaves, his face suddenly so close to yours, so close that you can see his long lashes flutter as he blinks, “I didn’t like that.”
You bite your lip, goosebumps running up and down your arms. You feel a sudden sense of dejavu – being in a bathroom with Ari alone like you were all those weeks ago at that party. The bathroom where he’d left you. “Wh-Why didn’t you like it?”
“You know why.” He moves even closer, his lips looking so plump and pink…
“No. Tell me.”
“Because I care about you. And I’m sorry for leaving you alone that night.”
Tenderly, he kisses you. And you don’t even fight it, easily melting into it despite everything. Despite how much you’d coached yourself not to fall for him again. His lips just feel so good, so natural, so him. And he’s holding you so gently, almost like you’re made out of glass. It’s like it’s a different Ari that’s kissing you now, so different from the man you’d gotten to know, from the man who’d hurt you and lied to you countless times.
The two of you pull apart, before instinctively pulling back in for another kiss. And you don’t know if it’s you or him that initiates the second one, but it’s like there’s an invisible string between the two of you, keeping you connected no matter how hard you try to run away.
“Ari,” you whisper against his lips, “Ari, what does this mean?”
He says nothing, continuing to peck at your lips. His hand slips up your skirt, but you quickly grab it to halt him. No, you needed answers this time before you took it any further.
“Y-You said you care about me.”
“Yeah, I did. I do.”
“Are you going to break up with Sharon?”
Silence.
And just like that, the bubble pops. You crash back down to reality. Your black eye throbs, your heart throbs, and now your head’s throbbing too. Sighing sadly, you push Ari away.
“Hey, look, I’ll figure something out.”
You shake your head, “I don’t have time for you to figure something out, Ari. It’s either me or her. Because honestly, Sharon doesn’t deserve this and neither do I. And I’m not going to start sneaking around with you again if that’s what you’re thinking.”
Ari doesn’t say anything, but his eyes look torn. He opens his mouth as if to say something before clamping it shut again and sighing. Running a hand through his mane, he leans forward as if to kiss you again, but you turn your head, not wanting to give in to the temptation a second time.
His silence is all the answer you need. With a heavy heart, you sigh.
“We need to pull the plug on this – whatever this is.” You say firmly, “and maybe it’s time for me to see other people so I can properly move on from you.”
Immediately, Ari’s eyes narrow, “What, like Steve? I already told you he’s dangerous.”
“He likes me and he’s not afraid to be seen with me in public!”
“He’s not afraid to physically assault you in public, that’s for sure.”
Round and round the two of you went, in this never-ending circle of fighting then making up then fighting again. It needed to end. You had to end it.
“Steve asked me out earlier today, and I think I’m going to go.” You scoot off the sink, feeling a bit shaky on your feet but overall alright enough to walk away.
“No, you’re fucking not.” Ari blocks your path, looking frustrated beyond belief. “Look, the only reason he even asked you out is because he wants to get back at me.”
Your jaw drops open for the second time in the span of five minutes. Angrily, you push past him, “You’re a fucking dick, Ari.”
“I’m not saying it to hurt you, I–”
“No, just shut up!” You interrupt, “Another guy asks me out and you can’t help but make it about yourself, can you? Because God forbid a guy likes me for me, right? Fuck you.”
He opens his mouth to as if to say something, but the door to the bathroom pushes open at that exact second.
“There you guys are!” Sharon huffs, looking red and out of breath, with a bag of ice in her hands. “It took me ages to find the ice box, are you okay?!”
“Yeah. I’m fine.” You answer, but she insists on icing your eye for you. It makes you feel even worse, standing there and allowing her to gently press the ice against your injury. The physical relief is instantaneous, but you feel icky on the inside. Yet again, you’d kissed her boyfriend behind her back. And it was even worse since you and her were kind of friends now.
Ari slips out of the bathroom without another word, and you watch over Sharon’s shoulder as he leaves. As he disappears down the corridor until he’s just a shadow, and only then you allow yourself to let out a long sigh. There. It was done. You and Ari were over now.
Forever.
***
“Sorry again for the black eye,” Steve says, his hand pressing against the small of your back as he leads you up the cobblestone pathway to his front door. “I promise I don’t usually have to resort to violence to get a girl to go out with me.”
It’s been a week since the fateful basketball practice game. Steve had texted you that very night, apologising over and over again for throwing the ball at your face. You were forgiving, naturally. It wasn’t his fault, and it’s not like he was aiming for you anyways. After that, the conversation had quickly flowed over to other things, and you found Steve easy to talk to over text. It wasn’t as intimidating, and he led most of the conversation, telling you how he’d love to take you out that weekend. The two of you had texted all week – and it was a welcome distraction from Ari, anyways.
Now, you giggle, feeling all glowy and special because the day of your date is finally here. You’re outside, the sun is shining and Steve’s confidently taken your hand in his. In comparison, you can’t even remember the last time you’d held hands with Ari – or if you’d ever held hands with Ari for that matter.
“That’s alright, Stevie. Just as long as you promise not to do it again, I don’t think I’d fare well as a battered and abused wife.” You answer before your eyes widen once you’ve realised what you’ve said. Had you just referred to yourself as his… wife? On your very first date? God… What the fuck was wrong with you?
But Steve only smirks, pulling you up the stairs leading to the front door of his house before yanking you into him, taking you by surprise. Your face collides with his hard chest as he kisses the top of your head. Your cheeks immediately go hot – he was so forward sometimes! No. All the time. He was incredibly forward all the time. And you don’t think you mind it in the least.
“Trust me, sweetheart. If you were my wife, I wouldn’t have allowed you to run around in that slutty little outfit at practice in front of so many feral basketball players.” He says, grabbing his keys from his pocket and going to unlock the door.
You bite your lip, “Are you calling yourself feral?”
His gaze is intense as he looks back at you, but then he chuckles, “Baby girl, with you prancing around in that tiny excuse of a skirt, who wouldn’t be feral?”
Your eyes widen and you stare down at the floor again, cheeks forever hot at his way with words. Steve smirks, pulling you inside. You find yourself in a massive foyer. You’d never seen anything like it, because the front door to your family’s house back home simply led into a living room. But this place was all marble floors and crystal chandeliers and grand staircases – like a fairytale palace.
Everything leading up to this moment had felt surreal like a fairytale. Steve had picked you up promptly at 4pm, just like he said he would. And he’d checked every box on the imaginary first date checklist in your mind that you didn’t even know you had. His hair was all windswept and gorgeous, starting to grow longer down his neck. His face was clean-shaven, blue eyes sparkling as he’d kissed you on the cheek when you’d opened your dorm room door to greet him.
With your hand grasped tightly in his, he’d tugged you to his car. Held the door open for you, helped you inside and he’d even secured your seatbelt for you.
“I’m so excited!” you’d blurted out when he’d got into the driver’s seat. And Steve had smiled, leaned over the console and kissed your forehead, murmuring in agreement. And it had made you swoon, your eyes widening at how forward he was, how comfortable he was with you when this was only the first date.
And then he’d grabbed your chin and looked at you with those intense eyes, “Baby girl, you know what would make this date even better?”
Entranced, you’d asked him: “What?”
His features had hardened for a second, and his grip on your chin tightened all of a sudden too, “You don’t mention Levinson tonight. Or ever again. Not when you’re with me. You got that?”
Your jaw would’ve dropped open had he not been holding your chin so hard. But you’d shaken your head hastily, not wanting to do anything to upset him or ruin your first date, “O-Of course, not, Steve, I wouldn’t, I–”
“I’m serious,” Steve had said softly, and yet he sounded almost threatening, “I hear his name come out of your mouth even once, and I’ll be very angry. Got that?”
“Y-Yes, Steve.”
“And if I find out you’re dating me just to make him jealous, I won’t be happy. Understood?”
You had swallowed harshly. Was that what you were doing? Oh, you didn’t even know! But you decided to focus entirely on Steve after that.
“I understand.”
And then he’d changed, letting go of your chin and shooting you a winning smile. His demeanour relaxed once more as he’d started up the car, and all the tension in the air dissipated. He began complimenting your dress, your hair, telling you how beautiful you looked and how much fun the two of you would have tonight. His warm hand patted your bare leg, and then it stayed there for the duration of the car ride, making you relax, making it seem as if that moment had never happened.
And that’s how you’d ended up at Steve’s house. And sure, it was a bit strange that you were at Steve’s house for your first date with him. But he’d said something about checking on a few things at home before he took you out. It was a casual date anyways, so you didn’t mind. Plus, he looked so handsome and earnest in his pressed white shirt and navy jacket, how could you ever say no?
“This place is huge,” you can’t help but marvel.
Steve shrugs, “I guess. It’s pretty empty nowadays – my parents are both surgeons and they travel overseas a lot to perform big surgeries. And I live on campus at the frat house, so it’s just my little sister here now. I like to check in on her every now and then.”
Oh, he was so sweet! Nothing like Ari, who was looking worse and worse by comparison. Ari, who never took you out on dates. Who only ever wanted you for sex. Whose love language seemed to only consist of lying to you, and the only times he was ever sweet was when he was manipulating you…
And yet… despite everything, your mind flits back to the way he’d carried you off when Steve’s ball had hit your face. How tenderly he had stroked you and tended to you. How sweetly he’d kissed you, making the butterflies in your tummy grow alive with excitement and nerves.
Stop, stop, stop thinking about Ari!
“So, where are we going for our date?” You ask brightly, letting Steve grab your hand again as he pulls you through a large, carpeted corridor.
“Oh, you’ll see,” Steve says vaguely, “But I thought we could hang here for a while. Do you want anything to drink?”
He leads you into a modern yet grandiose looking front room, with luxurious leather couches and a fireplace and an ornate coffee table that looks more expensive than your whole house back home. There’s also an open plan kitchen, also modern and minimalistic, and Steve drags you over, pulling out a chair and pushing you down by the shoulders to sit at the marble island.
“Water is fine.” You answer politely, not wanting to ruin your appetite before the date itself had even begun. Again, you start to wonder what he has planned for you two… A cute café? A posh restaurant? An aesthetically pleasing diner, even? Your heart somersaults excitedly at all of the potential prospects. The closest you’d ever gotten to a date before this was Ari ordering Nobu to your dorm room and the two of you eating on your bed while you forced him to watch Gossip Girl with you on your laptop…
 “What’re you smiling about, gorgeous?” Steve interrupts your thoughts.
“Huh? Nothing.”
He shakes his head and gives you another one of his charming, lop-sided smiles, “You sure you want just water? We’ve got some good bottles of wine down in the cellar. Or I could mix you a drink, although I’ll warn you now, I’ve been told I’m a bit too generous when it comes to measuring out the alcohol.”
Your eyes widen – was it a thing to drink before a first date? You didn’t know, since you’d never been on a date in your whole entire life. Would you look dumb if you just stuck to water? Could he tell how much you were currently overthinking things? It’s not like you were against drinking – it’s just that you had done so much of it on the night of the party that you were looking to steer clear. Plus, you wanted to be completely sober for your first date, and–
Steve chuckles, “Okay then, water it is.” He tosses you a bottle of still water and you catch it gratefully. Unscrewing the cap and taking a swig, you watch him as he moves around the kitchen island, settling down on the seat next to you before grabbing your chair and pulling it over till you’re very close to him.
“I’m really happy you said yes to this date, baby girl,” he says in that intense way that he speaks, all up close and his blue eyes sparkling like a crystalline lake where the sun’s hitting it just right. It reminds you of Ari’s eyes, actually – and it was crazy how both Steve and Ari had the exact same shade of blue eyes.
“Oh, uh, I’m happy too,” you say shyly, gulping as he pulls you even closer, his hand coming to rest on your bare thigh. He strokes your skin, leaving goosebumps in his wake before he fingers the lacy hem of your sundress.
“And I love this little dress you’re wearing,” His voice lowers, and your lips part as you watch his Adam’s Apple bob as he swallows, his face so close to yours. “I love that you wore it for me today, sweetheart. You did wear it for me, didn’t you? Just me?” His grip on your leg hardens slightly, but you’re too busy focusing on his long lashes to even notice.
“Y-Yes, I thought it would look cute for our date,” you breathe, acutely aware of his fingers playing with the soft material of your dress, lifting it up slowly.
Steve smirks, “You do look cute, in your pretty pink dress that you wore just for me.” He grabs the back of your neck and pulls you forward, his eyes hooded and lips hovering over yours. Just an inch away, and your heartrate quickens, and you move closer–
“Steve! I thought I heard you come in!”
You and Steve spring apart when a girl appears in the doorway of the kitchen. But her wide smile is immediately replaced by a look of embarrassment and even fear the moment she sees that you’re there too.
“O-Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you had company…” she stutters, backing out of the room.
“Kira, wait, don’t go,” Steve jumps up and grabs the girl’s arm before she can escape, “Come meet my date. Babe, this is my little sister, Kira.”
For some reason, when Steve had mentioned his little sister living here earlier, you’d automatically just assumed there was a pre-teen running around somewhere in the house with a live-in nanny chasing after her. But Kira looks about the same age as you, and she also looks somewhat petrified. Standing there next to her brother, wringing her hands together and barely being able to make eye contact with you.
“Hey, Kira, it’s nice to meet you.” You say pleasantly, and she returns your smile awkwardly for a nanosecond immediately looking back down at her feet, as if she felt embarrassed in her own skin. She’s pretty, with pale skin and blonde hair just like her brother. But Steve was big, assured and confident, whilst Kira looks extremely shy, with a slight build – much smaller than him. Her hair is scraped back in a tight plait down her back, and her glasses were slightly crooked on her face.
“Hey,” she whispers softly, and she looks at you for a second or two, but seems to grow alarmed when you meet her gaze. Quickly, she looks to the floor again, her fingers fidgeting nervously.
“She’s the girl I’ve been telling you about,” Steve says to his sister.
Your heart swells, and you beam up at him, “You’ve been talking about me?”
He gives you a wink, “Of course. You’re practically a household name, sweetheart.”
Kira clears her throat, backing away slowly, “I-I should go, uh, it was nice meeting you–”
“Stay, Kira, please!” Steve says, “We’re leaving in a second anyways, then you’ll have the whole place to yourself.”
The poor girl looked extremely awkward, and a part of you feels sorry for her as she stands there quietly, with Steve beaming next to her.
“I like your sweatshirt.” You say after a few seconds of silence.
“Th-Thank you,” Kira answers, glancing down at her front before shooting you another quick, tight-lipped smile. “I – uh – I thrifted it a while back.”
“I love thrifting! I’m new to the city though, so I don’t know any of the good places.”
“Kira could show you around!” Steve suggests. You nod politely. Kira smiles too, but you can tell she still looks mortified. You try not to make it obvious, but you’ve noticed how her hands are shaking as she keeps them clasped in front of her. A part of you can relate – you still get shy and awkward around people you don’t know, too.
Kira starts backing out of the room again, “I – uh – I’m so sorry, I have a report, I–”
“No, please! You’re good!” you say, “It was really nice to meet you!”
“You too,” she answers, before leaving the room and closing the door gently behind her.
A few beats pass before you speak.
“She seems really nice,” you say, taking another sip of water.
Steve nods, looking distracted as he watches after his sister through the glass pane of the door. His smile from earlier is still plastered on his face, but it no longer seems to reach his eyes. The atmosphere, the air itself, suddenly feels heavier, different in a way, and you can’t quite pinpoint what it is.
When Steve finally looks at you, he’s got a dark look suddenly shrouding his face. But he smiles nonetheless, grabs your hand and pulls you up to your feet, “Yeah, she’s great. I know she didn’t talk much but that’s only because she tends to get really anxious around people she doesn’t know. But I promise you, she’s a good kid.”
“I totally understand.”
“No really, if you get to know her, she’s a lot of fun. She doesn’t really go out much…” His voice trails off, but you feel him squeeze your hand tighter as he leads you out of the kitchen and into a spacious corridor.
“I get that,” you answer honestly, wondering if you should say anymore or whether it would be overstepping. But Steve still looks distracted, and you want to show him that you’re present and attentive and interested in what he’s telling you – which you are. “Honestly, I get it. Does she have a good group of friends at her college? I know that friends can be–”
“She went to your college.” Steve interrupts you.
 Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, “She goes to St. Andrews’? No way, that’s so cool! I don’t think I’ve seen her around but that’s probably ‘cause the campus is so big, but wow, I–”
“No, she used to go there,” he says, stopping in front of what you assume is his bedroom door, and turning to look at you with a peculiar expression. Steve, always so forward with his emotions, but right now his blue eyes gaze at you with a look that’s almost unreadable, and his words come out blunt. “She doesn’t go there anymore. She dropped out.”
Oh.
You can feel his hand clutching yours very tightly, his grip almost crushing. And yet, despite the physical contact, he seems far away. Like he’s lost in his own world, like there’s something brewing inside his head but you can’t seem to read him and figure out what exactly it is. His full lips are pressed into a thin line, and his other hand grips the doorknob tightly for a handful of long seconds before twisting it and pulling you into his room.
“Steve, I…”
He shuts the door before turning to face you once more, and he’s still got that stormy, distant look on his face, a look you’ve never seen before now. It’s almost eery, how quickly his demeanour had changed. Just a minute ago, he was being charming as hell…
But then his face suddenly relaxes, lips twitching into that lop-sided smile of his. The familiarity of it relaxes you too, makes you not fully notice how it still doesn’t reach his eyes as he tugs you into him.
“Why did she drop out?” You breathe.
Steve’s face is so close to yours, his blue eyes blazing and his jaw tensing and untensing almost rhythmically. He sucks in a breath, his charming smile freezing on his face as he looks somewhere beyond your shoulder.
“She just didn’t have the best time there,” his eyes darken, the grip he has on your hand not relenting in the slightest, “There were some people – one person – who just…” He trails off once more, before his gaze suddenly snaps back to you, and he clears his throat, “It was just one of those things where she decided it was best for her to drop out. That was last year, and she’s taking some courses online now.”
“I’m sorry, Steve. That must’ve been so tough for her,” you exhale, unaware that you’d been holding your breath in.
He nods, and you watch him closely. His eyes twitch before he smiles once more, pulling you towards his bed, “Yeah, it was.”
He backs up till he’s sitting on the edge of his bed, pulling you on top of him till you’re straddling his lap. Automatically, your arms wind around his neck, and you don’t think you’ve seen a more intense-looking pair of eyes than his in that moment. Neither of you say anything, but his fingers dance up and down your bare legs. Slip up your hips and give them a squeeze, and you bite your lip.
He kisses up your neck, the first few being feather-light before they grow more frenzied. His hand cups your ass through the material of your dress, giving it a squeeze that has you breathing hard.
 Wait, what was happening? Just a second ago he was opening up to you about his sister, and now…?
“Steve, what’re you – ah – wh-what about our date–?”
He’s got a glint in his eye when he looks up from kissing your skin, “I didn’t forget about our date, sweetheart. I just thought we’d take a little detour first.”
Oh. Okay. It’s easy to grow distracted when his kisses on your skin are making the butterflies spiral and flutter in your tummy. You want to melt into his arms, let him kiss you all the rest of the day and all night too. Let him take you on this amazing first date that he’d painstakingly planned for you, and in doing so erase the thought and touch of Ari from your mind completely, till your body forgets about the man you’ve been nonstop thinking about for the past month. Maybe this was it, maybe it was time for something new. Someone new. All Ari ever wanted from you was sex, but Steve? Steve was different.
“I wasn’t – ah, Steve – I have to say, I wasn’t planning on kissing you until the end of the date, definitely not before it,” you giggle, pushing at his chest to try and get a word in as he tugs the strap of your dress aside and trails his lips down your shoulder blade.
You feel him smirk against your skin, “Don’t worry, baby girl. I’ll be a gentleman and save our first kiss for the end of the date, but that doesn’t mean we can’t do other things right now.”
You feel your core thrum with excitement at his words, and you look up to beam at him except he’s too busy pushing your dress down to meet your gaze. The sun shines through the open window, making his hair glisten golden, and you wonder if the sunlight makes his eyes glimmer like that too. But he’s not looking at you.
“Steve,” you push at his shoulder, “Steve, won’t we be late for our date?”
His fingers find the zipper at the back of your dress, and with ease he unfastens it before looking at you, and his eyes are so dark, “Who’s planning this date, sweetheart? Me or you?”
You giggle nervously, “You, of course. But–”
“Who’s in charge?”
“Y-You, but–”
“No, no buts. We’ll go when I say we’re ready to,” he runs his hand down your bare back through the gap created by the open zipper of your dress, his calloused fingers running over your sensitive skin and making your heart skip a beat. His tone is distracted, and yet there’s a finality and authority to it that makes you listen to him.
Before you can think of a response, he grabs you by the waist and pushes you down on the bed before climbing on top of you. You gulp, a huge part of you so turned on by how in control he is, and yet it’s such a contrast from the easy-going Steve’s you’ve gotten to know today. But at the same time, you get a strange sense of dejavu, as if you’ve been in this situation before with him… But that wasn’t possible at all, was it?
“Stevie, please, my hair and makeup’s gonna get ruined!” You laugh, trying to bat him away as he kisses down your chest, pulling your dress down with him, “I worked really hard on it, you know!”
You wait for him to quip back, say something funny or charming to reassure you and make you feel all warm inside. Like how he’s been doing today ever since he picked you up from your dorm room. But he doesn’t reply at all, too focused on tugging your dress off. It’s crazy, almost as if his personality had completely switched since he’d dragged you from the kitchen into his room. He seems distracted, frenzied, unresponsive almost as he licks and nips at your chest.
And a large part of you wants to give in. You know your panties are soaked through, and it would be so easy to just relinquish control completely, till you did that thing where you went all dumb and submissive. But then… what about the date? You’d been looking forward to finally going out with a guy, really going out instead of just hanging out in a bedroom…
Was that all you were worth?
“Steve! Stevie, c’mon. I don’t wanna wrinkle my dress before our date–”
“Then just take it off,” he yanks at the fabric hard, and you hear a rip.
“My dress!” You cry, but he pins your arms above your head with just one of his hands before you can survey the damage. His face is hovering over yours, so close that his nose brushes against yours, and yet despite the closeness, his eyes look so far away. So dark and far away, even the sunlight from the window doesn’t seem to reach into them.
“Steve, please slow down–”
“C’mon, baby girl. The innocent act is cute but everyone knows you’re not exactly a prude…”
“Huh?”
His kiss swallows you whole, and his lips are so soft, so warm. They mould perfectly against yours, and you momentarily forget everything, your arms winding around his neck as you kiss him back. For a few seconds, it’s magical. It’s different from kissing Ari – but not at all in a bad way. When Ari kissed you, it felt like the whole world stopped moving, like everything came to a halt except him and you. But with Steve, it felt like the world was spinning doubly fast, making you feel light and heady and excited, like you were in the midst of a whirlpool, like Steve was consuming you whole.
But only for those precious few seconds, before he bites down on your lower lip, and you feel a jolt of pain. He ruts against you, his movements rough and animalistic. You make a sound of protest, but it’s drowned out by another loud rip, and you feel your dress coming further undone.
“Hey, stop!” you manage to pull away, the metallic taste of blood invading your tastebuds. You wipe your mouth, heart beating faster than a drum. You look down at your dress – the front of which has been ripped down to your waist, and a horrified feeling spreads through your chest. “M-My dress…”
“It’s not a big deal,” he tries pressing his lips against yours again but you dodge him.
“It is! H-How am I gonna go on our date if my dress is all ripped?”
Steve blinks, “We’ll figure something out, sweetheart.”
“No, wait! Please… I was looking forward to–”
He cuts you off with another rough kiss, his hands spreading the tear of your dress to expose your bra. He palms your breasts through the lacy material, and you don’t know whether to give in to the pleasure or address the sinking feeling in your chest. You’d gotten all dressed up for him, for this date! And now?
“S-Steve, can we please just stop for a second – ah!”
He pulls the cups of your bra down, his mouth latching on to your nipple. And oh, it feels so good! And yet…
You push him off you, “Please, Steve. Slow it down!”
Steve blinks, his eyes looking so deeply stormy, so dark and far away despite the fact that he’s making direct eye contact with you, “That’s strange.”
“What’s strange?”
He grips your chin roughly with his thumb and forefinger, “Playing hard to get isn’t really your strong suit, so I don’t get why you’re doing it now. You didn’t do it the night we met.”
He’s back on you once more in a flash, when his words haven’t even properly sunk in. His lips brush past your collarbone, kissing back down to your bare breasts. He circles your nipple with his tongue, grabbing your hands and squeezing them before bringing them up to his abs. Your breath hitches, the feel of his mouth on you… and his body, so hard and masculine and big, it’s got your mind clouding over. You almost forget what he’s just said…
You force out another giggle, although you don’t much feel like laughing anymore. “What do you mean? Look – ah! – please just stop for a second –”
“That’s not what you were saying the night of the party,” Steve mutters against your neck, pushing your hand past his waistband, his grip too strong for you to pull away from. “You clearly didn’t have a problem spreading your legs for me then.”
Your blood runs cold. What did he mean by that?
He gets rougher, biting and sucking on your nipples, manhandling your body till he’s got your legs spread and he’s slotted himself between them. Lewdly, he thrusts his clothed dick against your panty-covered pussy, and you suppress the need to moan. Your entire body’s screaming for you to just lay still and let him do what he’s going, because it feels so fucking good. And yet, once more, your palms press hard against his chest to push him off.
“Steve, stop, I don’t think–”
“Shut up.” He bites down on your nipple harshly and you gasp, continuing to push at him. How had his whole demeanour changed in such a short amount of time? Where was the sweetness and the charm he’d shown you less than half an hour ago?
“Wh-What, Steve, I–”
“You heard me. Don’t act like a nun all of a sudden, not when you let Levinson fuck you in the middle of a party in front of the whole fucking world.”
Your heart drops all the way down to the pit of your stomach. Your blood freezes up, making you go deathly still. You feel like there’s poison in your veins all of a sudden, turning all your insides into black tar. Your hands stop pushing him, dropping to your sides like you’ve forgotten how to use them.
Steve stops too, blinking suddenly as if he’s just woken up, as if he’s just been doused by a bucket of ice water.
“Fuck. Sorry. I didn’t mean to say that–”
“Get off me.” Your voice sounds oddly thick, and you feel the sudden urge to cry.
Steve doesn’t budge, still on his knees on top of you. He frowns, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I said I’m sorry.”
“Get off me. Get off me. GET OFF ME!”
He does, regarding you carefully as he stands up beside the bed. Watching as you scramble to your feet, feeling disoriented, confused, hurt, used, upset – oh, and so much else! So he knew about what you’d done with Ari the night of the party… But for him to use it against you? After being so charming and perfect all day? You don’t know what to think anymore as your mind feels like it’s moving a hundred miles per second.
Steve sighs, reaching for your hand, “Baby, I didn’t mean–”
“I’m going home.” You say quietly, fixing your bra back into place before reaching behind you to zip your dress back up. Praying to God that you don’t struggle with the zipper just this once. And by some miracle, you get it zipped up in one go. Not that it does anything to rectify the fact that the front of your dress is torn down the top. Another wave of tears threatens to spill from within you.
Steve’s eyes narrow, “Home? Why?”
You stare at him incredulously before quietly making a beeline towards the doorway, holding the front of your dress together almost pitifully. You need to get out of here, get out before he sees you burst into tears.
Steve grabs your arm before you can get to the door.
“Look, let’s just go on our date. We can talk it out, I just said I didn’t mean to say that.”
You shake your head, “I just want to go home.”
His eyes flash dangerously, and you find your heart beating faster than normal as you shrink back, trying to tug out of his grip but to no avail.
“I fucking apologised.” He says sharply, “I’m taking you out now, so stop trying to leave.”
“You never wanted to go on a date with me.” You say shakily, tears welling in your eyes. And that’s when you realise it, like it’s just dawned on you that all of this… him asking you out, picking you up in his car, acting all sweet, introducing you to his sister… All of it was just so he could get you into his bed.
All men were the same. Ari, Steve, all of them…
“Don’t put words in my mouth. I do want to take you out, so let’s just go.”
Steve tugs hard on your arm, making you cry out in protest. His eye twitches, and he reaches down towards your face as if to tuck your hair behind your ear. But you can’t help but flinch, and then another realisation slowly dawns on you. You’re afraid of him.
You tug with all your might, freeing your arm from his and shaking your head profusely.
“I-I-I need to go home. Just, please. I need to–”
“GODDAMIT, I SAID I WANTED TO TAKE YOU ON THE GODDAMNED DATE.”
There’s a loud crack. You duck in fright, hands covering your face. When you peak through the gaps of your fingers, you see Steve breathing hard. His fist, driven straight through the wall, has created a massive hole and several cracks in the plaster.
Silence. Except for the sound of your heartbeat. You don’t even think you breathe; you’re so paralysed with fear. You watch Steve as he slowly removes his hand from the wall, as he examines his fist with an unreadable expression on his face. He flexes his fingers, and his whole hand looks red – as does his face. His jaw is tensed, almost to the point where it’s vibrating.
And then he looks at you.
“Look, I’m sorry. Sometimes I…” his voice trails off, and he shakes his head as if trying to clear his own thoughts. “Let’s just go on the date, okay? Just let me explain–”
“P-Please, just let me go home,” you beg, and it comes out as a broken, scared whisper. You can’t take your eyes off his fist, or the gaping hole in the wall. You’d seen men punch through walls in movies, but never in real life. Your heart still hadn’t calmed down, and now you’re even more sure you have to leave.
 “Goddamit, why can’t you just listen to me?” He takes a step towards you and you flinch, cowering back once more as if he’s going to hit you next. Instead, he freezes, taking in your expression. He swallows, blinking several times. “Look, let’s just calm down. This doesn’t have to ruin the date, you can borrow something from Kira and I’ll buy you a new dress, alright?”
“I c-can’t, I…” you don’t even know what to say to him. What could you say? That you felt unsafe? Afraid? Not to mention, betrayed and used too? How could he possibly expect you to forget all that and go out with him?
You take a deep breath, tightly holding the top of your torn dress together with one hand. You dart towards the door, hoping to slip out without him catching you. But he’s too quick, and once again takes hold of your elbow just as you exit his room and come out into the hallway. This time, you can’t help the tears as they spill down your face.
Steve’s blue eyes flash once more, “Where the fuck do you think you’re going? Didn’t you hear what I just said? Borrow something from–”
“Let me go, Steve,” you tug once, before growing more panicked and tugging again, harder. “Let me go, let me go, let me go–”
“I’m sorry you feel scared, I didn’t mean for that. Sometimes I get like that – just stop fucking struggling for one second, okay?”
“Steve, let her go.”
Both of you look up to see Kira standing in her doorway across the hall. Steve’s grip loosens momentarily, and you take his distraction as your opening. You break free, hastily making your way down the stairs. You don’t dare look back, focusing on the steps beneath you because the last thing you want to do right now is fall.
“Let her go, Steve. Just… Just sit down.” You can hear Kira say.
“No, she can’t just leave. I need to–”
“Please, Steve. You’re freaking out again. I’m gonna have to call mom and dad if you don’t sit down right now.”
And that’s all you hear, both Steve and Kira’s voices fading as you descend further down the stairs. Through the kitchen, your shoes pitter-pattering over the marble floors of the lobby. The ornate front door is heavy as you pull it open, escaping to the fresh air outside. You don’t dare look back, too scared to see if Steve has followed you or not.
You’re halfway down the porch steps when you hear the door open behind you. You’re about to break into a run lest Steve grab you again, when–
“H-Here.”
It’s Kira. You turn around and she throws you something soft. A pink hoodie. Despite your frazzled, haphazard, frightened state, you can’t help but feel gratitude. You quickly put it on, and it smells sweet – like candy perfume. It solves the problem of your ripped dress, and yet it does nothing to calm your frenzied heart, or stop the tears that drip past your cheeks. You back away from the town-house quickly.
“Thank you, Kira. I need to go, I need to–”
She nods as if she understands, “W-Will you be okay?”
You bite your lip to stop from bursting into full on tears. All you can think right now is that you need to get away. Far, far away. Somewhere quiet where you can think, where you can straighten your thoughts out, somewhere where you’re alone. Away from Steve, away from Ari, away from boys like them, away from everyone.
You leave, hoping she’ll understand. After all, she’d helped you – and it wasn’t her fault that her brother had been so… so…
Oh, you don’t even know what’s just happened! Your speed walk turns into a slow jog before you all but break into a run, only slowing down once you’re off his street. How had he just said all those things to you? How had he known about Ari fucking you at the party? And what did Steve mean by you spreading your legs for him the night you’d met him?
He thinks you’re a slut, you realise. All he ever wanted from you was sex, and you were stupid, stupid, stupid to think this first date was going to be something special. Or anything at all apart from sex.
You feel like crying, screaming, sobbing, pulling your hair out. But you can’t do that here, not while you’re on some random street so close to Steve’s house. Instead, you take a few deep breaths to gather yourself. Wait until you get home, wait until you’re alone in your room, you coach yourself, desperately holding on to the single thread that’s keeping you together right now. When inside you feel all torn – he’d torn up your heart just like he’d torn up your dress.
You call an Uber, luckily only having to wait a minute or two before it arrives. The ride home is silent, you just stare out the window and try your hardest to keep your tears at bay. Oh, why couldn’t you be like those other girls? The ones who could easily find a boyfriend who loved them for them? Boyfriends who liked to hang out, go on dates, cook together? Why did no boy ever want that with you? Were you only ever worth their time when you spread your legs for them?
You feel numb by the time you reach your dorm building. It feels like you’re wading through cement as you forlornly walk inside, not even noticing the familiar car parked outside. You fish your keys out of your purse only to find your door already unlocked. You swing it open, ready to just burst into tears and sob into your pillow and–
“I broke up with her.”
Ari is sitting on the edge of your bed – you’d forgotten he still had a key to your dorm – with a bouquet of pink roses his hand. Pale pink, delicate, tied together with a pink satin ribbon. But you didn’t care, not anymore.
He stands up as you walk in, slowly shutting the door behind you. You hardly register him, your mind still racing with thoughts of: Steve used you; he didn’t really want you. No man could ever really want you. They all just want one thing. They all just–
“I broke up with Sharon,” Ari repeats. “It’s over between me and her. I told her I wanted to be with someone else.”
You still don’t say anything. He may as well be speaking in gibberish.
“Go away,” you say, but it barely comes out as a whisper.
Ari grabs you by the shoulders, his blue eyes sparkling. And he looks so devastatingly handsome, his hair brushed back, wearing a crisp white button-up as if he’s gotten ready just to tell you all this. “You were right, I should’ve done it a long time ago. But who cares, we can be together now.”
“Go away.”
“I told you I’d make you my girlfriend, didn’t I?” He says cockily, thrusting the pink roses into your hands. And yet the bouquet feels like nothing, like you’re holding on to air. Ari doesn’t seem to notice your lack of enthusiasm as he continues, “And now we can do all that shit you always told me you wanted to do. I’ll take you out somewhere nice, in fact we can go right now, we can–”
“Go away.” You say it much louder this time.
He hears you, his brows etching upwards in a frown as he regards you almost suspiciously. As he looks at you, really looks at you, slowly drinking in your shrunken demeanour, your dishevelled hair, the numb look on your face, the dried tears on your cheeks, how your eyes don’t quite meet his.
He squeezes your shoulders before his hands freeze, and you look up to see him staring at the hoodie you’re wearing. You see a flicker in his eyes, but it’s so fleeting it’s almost like you imagined it. He inhales deeply.
“Where did you get this?” He asks, before he grows distracted when his gaze flits over to your dress. Your poor, torn dress. His frown deepens, slowly turning into a snarl, “Who the fuck did this to you?”
You shrug out of his hold, feeling like you’re a million miles away, “Just go away.”
Ari’s lips press into a thin line, his jaw tensed up as he surveys you carefully. His hold on your shoulders never loosens.
“He did this to you, didn’t he?”
“Go away.” You feel like a broken record.
“I’ll fucking kill him,” Ari’s features harden like stone, his fists curling at his sides as he surveys you. “I knew this would… Fuck, I can’t fucking believe–”
“DIDN’T YOU HEAR ME!? I SAID GO AWAY!”
You erupt like a fucking volcano, tears flowing freely down your cheeks as if you can’t hold them in anymore. But you feel more rage than sadness: rage at him, at Steve, at yourself. You throw the bouquet of pink roses at his chest. Hard. They bounce off him at fall to the ground in a dejected heap. The look of seething anger on Ari’s face is replaced with one of shock, and then concern. But was it even real? Was it ever real when it came to you?
“Just get out of here, Ari!”
“He’s a piece of shit, and I’ll fucking kill him, alright? I promise he’ll never hurt you again.” Ari says it slowly, trying to step closer to you but you immediately push him back. One shove turns into two before you lose it, your tiny fists landing on his chest over and over again.
“I DON’T CARE, OKAY!? I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU DO JUST GET OUT OF MY FUCKING ROOM!”
You scream it at the top of your lungs. You’re pretty sure everyone in the building heard you, but you don’t care. You don’t care about anything anymore. All you want to do is be left alone.
“Hey, hey, stop. Calm down.” Ari grabs your fists in his hands but all you feel is trapped. Like you did back in Steve’s bedroom. Like Ari’s about to administer his sweet manipulations once more so that you end up in bed with him. It was all you were good for after all, wasn’t it?  You jerk away from him, shaking your head fiercely.
“GET OUT, GET OUT, GET OUT!”
“What the fuck did he do to you?” Ari looks like he’s at a loss, and yet at the same time he looks livid, “Hey look, you’re okay now. He can’t hurt you anymore, you’re okay. Just calm down–”
“Get out!”
You scream it over and over again, till your throat feels hoarse and yet you still don’t stop. You just want him out, want him gone. You push at him again, and then again, and he’s so strong and solid that he doesn’t even budge, and this makes you even more upset. He’s looking at you like you’re crazy, but there’s also a softness in his eyes but you don’t know if it’s real or if you even want it to be real anymore.
“Baby, you’re okay. Just calm down, you’re safe now, I won’t let him hurt you again.”
He sounds so soft, so kind, so unlike himself. He’s acting, you think to yourself. Acting just like how Steve was acting. He doesn’t really care about you. Neither of them do. You’re the idiot. You’re the fool. You’re the slut.
“GET AWAY FROM ME OR I’LL FUCKING SCREAM!”
Ari is the most stubborn man you’ve ever met, and he never takes orders from you, that much you know. And yet, by some miracle, he backs off. Maybe he sees how broken you look, how there’s nothing he could really do in this moment that wouldn’t just make you angrier, and push him away even more. You also believe there’s a large part of him that wants to genuinely kill Steve – for whatever reason – probably pride – and yet, you don’t care.
And so he does leave, but not before promising once more that he was going to murder Steve Rogers. He says some other things too, but you’re too distraught to even take them in. He tries to touch you again, but you bat him off, screaming even louder. Finally, he just leaves, an unreadable look on his face and his hands still curled into fists, undoubtedly going to find Steve.
And that’s when you collapse to the floor, the tears uncontrollably rolling down your cheeks as you cry and cry and cry. You grab the pink roses, and in a fit of uncontrollable rage, you rip them apart. Rip flower from stem, petal from petal, throwing them on the floor with such vitriolic rage and sadness all rolled into one.
Ripped flowers. Ripped dress. Ripped heart.
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AHHHHH OMFG OKAY!
I want you guys to know that I literally don't even know if I like this. I do but I also don't... Basically I'm super insecure about it. Nevertheless, please do tell me what you think!!!! ANY SHOCKS?? ANY SURPRISES?!?! OMFGGGG.
I prepared a few questions, although you guys don't have to answer them!! These are just for fun hehehe.
So... whose team are you now on? Team Ari or Team Steve? Hehe.
Why did Steve's mood suddenly change during their date???
IS WANDA A GOOD FRIEND?!?!?!
Any ideas NOW on why Steve and Ari hate each other?? What could it have to do with... I wonder...
ANYWAYS thank you guys so so much for reading! I love you all so so much, please reblog and give me feedback as I live for that and sajdjag IDEK ENJOY ENJOY ENJOY
2K notes · View notes
a-hazbin-reader · 3 months
Note
I had an alastor ask you can ignore this but what about an alastor x wife!reader where one day one of the readers old friends from their living days manifest in hell it can be angsty or fluffy but I just really wanna see how you think alastor would react to suddenly remembering that the reader had a whole different life before hell and before him
You're an amazing write and I wanna see your take on this, if not thats ok too !! Have a lovely day 🩷
Ooh this is just juicy-
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: Alastor being sad, Alastor being jealous
Description: 👆⬆️
Look, Alastor is a smart man who knows you had a life before you met him, before you died
He knows this, he also had a life before you
A rather violent one towards the end there, but still...
But when one of your friends from when you were alive suddenly runs into you???? It suddenly feels like that previous life is coming to slap him in the face
"Y/N? Is that you?"
The way your face lights up with familiarity and you two rush to hug each other, obviously close
It makes him...feel something bad...
The conversation with your friend starts out simple and innocent enough, the two of you catching up with each other
You introduce your husband and Alastor can tell that your friend is surprised, probably not expecting you to be shacked up with the radio demon himself
He preens with your introduction, ready to hear your friend either gush about your amazing husband or shrink away in fear of him
Or at least that's what Alastor assumes the shocked look means
But then your friend mentions something about an old flame of yours and Alastor just kinda??? Gets a white hot flash of anxiety??
You get visibly upset at the mention of them, mumbling something to your friend that Alastor can't hear because he's not listening
You're scolding your friend for bringing up someone you hardly even thought about anymore, someone so unimportant in comparison to your husband
You had someone before him?? Someone you loved and cared about before you died and became stuck in hell?
Would you still go to them now if you had the choice? No, you wouldn't, he's one of the strongest demons in hell. Why would you leave him?
Because you loved people for more than that...
Then your friend is talking to him about your life when you were alive, telling him every stupid, funny, kind thing you did
Everything you enjoyed without him in your life
He's stuck in his own head and hurting his own feelings, the smile on his face painfully tight
"Alastor? Darling?"
Your concerned voice and gentle squeeze on his arm brings him back to reality, your friend having already left without his realizing
"Are you alright? You got quiet on me and that's not like you..."
And he's back to being his charming self, squashing down his ugly emotions
"My apologies my dear~! I just suddenly remembered I must meet Rosie today!"
He's gone before you can even question it, leaving you with a sinking feeling in your gut
The next few days after that Alastor is distant from you even though he's trying to play it off as being busy
Everyone at the hotel can see it and think that you two must be having a fight
You have to reassure them that no, mommy and daddy aren't fighting
He's been off ever since you ran into your friend and they brought up-
...your past...
Oh that stupid man of yours
It takes a lot of work to corner Alastor, he's stupidly clever and always has an excuse to avoid you
You however, did NOT become his wife by giving up easily
One time, he even straight up turned around and ran from you
And you almost fucking caught him if he hadn't cheated and melted away into the shadows
But you manage to catch him in his radio tower, using all your demonic power to sneak up on him
He jumps at the feeling of your arms draping around his neck from behind, feeling your lips on his temple
He's missed being so close to you, he really has
"We need to talk, darling one..."
This is exactly what he's been avoiding though, trying to get his uncomfortable feelings to go away so things can go back to normal between you two
"What is there to talk about, my dear~?"
He's pulling you into his lap, uncharacteristically enthusiastic about giving you affection all of a sudden, kissing up your neck and rubbing your thighs
You know he's trying to seduce you to get out of having to talk about his feelings so you stop him, placing a firm hand on his chest
"You've been avoiding me ever since we ran into my friend."
He visibly cringes at being so obviously caught, his smile strained, sharp teeth clenched tight
"I've simply been busy, I'm sorry if I've been neglecting my little wife..."
He's going in for another kiss, but you pull away with reluctance, you're attracted to your husband after all
You pull on his cheek and sigh, hugging his neck as you lean back to look at him
"Alastor, you know I hate it when you lie to me..."
Now he feels bad, he hates disappointing his wife like this...
"I suppose I have been a bit out of sorts..."
So he does his best to explain to you his uncertainty in your life, wondering if you've simply settled for him because you died
If you would choose your old life over him if ever given the chance, or leave him for a chance at heaven with people from your old life
He won't look at you the entire time he says this, leaning into you and hiding his face in your neck
Just run your fingers through his hair, maybe rub his ears a little, and listen to him vent
He doesn't like being open and vulnerable
"Oh darling, I didn't even know what love really was until I met you. Being here in hell with you has been more fulfilling than any life I had before..."
Not him making a little deer bleat before growling out of embarrassment, clutching you a little tighter
"You wouldn't-"
"Alastor, if anybody even tries to make me leave you, I'll kill them myself."
That makes him chuckle, leaning back to finally look at you
"Oh, you twisted wonderful wife~"
He's literally immediately back to himself after that, almost as though none of it ever happened
You're always surprised by how quickly your husband recovers
Maybe it's just because he trusts you so much, your words alone were enough to reassure him of his place in your world
You meant every word
When your friend comes back to visit you, Alastor actually engages with them this time
He wants to know more about who you used to be now that his confidence in his marriage has been restored
The dude is literally walking around like he got laid for the first time
Angel...shut up...
Holds you close to him the entire time, relaxed as he listens to you and your friend go on about old times
"Wait...you jumped out of a third story window? While being chased by a man with one leg?"
"And LIVED!"
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SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO GET TO I HOPE YOU LIKE IT
1K notes · View notes
saerins · 5 months
Text
[ ೀ pucker up, buttercup | itoshi sae ]
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ೀ content: female reader, fluff, sae and reader are adults, pet names (sae’s choice of words are stupid/idiot, calls reader ‘my girl’), alcohol, slightly suggestive at the end. | wc 1.5k | notes: okay did a very quick drabble for sae for christmas !! merry christmas to you guys <3
ೀ summary: being sae’s girlfriend is tough. there’s a lot of things he can’t make time for, and unfortunately this time, it’s you. but somehow, he always pulls through.
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it’s christmas eve and you’re at your company function, looking at the fruits of your hard labour.
the event hall is decked with christmas decorations; stockings lining the walls and corresponding to different names for everyone’s secret santa to gift accordingly, christmas lights surrounding every table, everyone getting their fair share of the catering you’d arranged.
“this is amazing,” your boss gushes as she excitedly throws her arms around you. she’s only a few years older than you, so it’s not all too surprising that she’s always super friendly with you.
“relax on the alcohol, okay?” you joke with her, smelling the liquor already.
she pouts at you, batting her eyelashes. “oh c’mon, are you still upset that your boyfriend couldn’t make it for christmas?”
you sigh, though you keep a strong front, smiling through it. being the private girlfriend of an international soccer superstar is tough; he has to miss holidays and special occasions and more often than not you can’t even get your calls through because he’s just that busy. you’d been excited for this year’s christmas though, because he had said he’d be able to fly back home this time.
but as it turns out, his manager—who so happens to love overworking him—has other plans. so all of that excitement just went down the drain. still, what else can you say to him other than good luck with it? you knew being his girlfriend was going to be tough, but it’s starting to take a toll after feeling like you barely exist in his world.
still, you stare at the message he last sent you.
i love you.
and you go soft. soft, because you know he means it. soft, because despite everything, you believe in the man you fell in love with. the one who gave you your first kiss back in high school, the one who’s so awkward that even initiating to hold hands last time had his entire face beet red. the one who never fails to assure you that in spite of the distance, he’s always still thinking of you.
you fiddle with your necklace, the promise ring sae gave you when you were back in high school sitting around your neck like it always has.
in between all the long distance arguments and the time differences and the i miss you, wish you were here with me, you still find yourself hopelessly in love with itoshi sae. even when your friends say they can’t imagine being in your shoes, even when numerous tabloids love to put models or athletes as your competition, you know there’s still no one else you’d rather be with than him.
“i’m fine, really,” you assure your boss, prying her off of you and then adjusting her so her arm is around your shoulder as you lead her to her stocking. “here, why don’t you busy yourself and see what your secret santa got you?”
you really just want to distract your boss so she wouldn’t accidentally end up throwing you a pity party. all you want to do today is to make it through it, spend the first hour of christmas day rounding up the party and then get home and sleep your day away. it’ll distract you from the absence of your boyfriend anyway.
as you watch your boss happily open up whatever’s in her stocking, you wonder if your secret santa got you anything. (of course, some secret santas are dicks and end up not getting their person anything.) so count yourself lucky when you open up your stocking to find both a gift and a card.
amused, you rip the card out of its envelope, your heart skipping a beat when you see that inside of it, there’s a picture of you and sae as high school kids, beside each other, his face deadpan while you’re grinning from ear to ear, resting your head against his shoulder. the message reads: i love you so much it’s stupid.
you’re still in shock but you open up the little gift box, maroon with a green bow on it. when you see what’s inside, you can’t help but chuckle.
holding it above you, under the light, you can see the words hey, stupid engraved on the side of the fake mistletoe before feeling a warm pair of arms wrapping around your waist from behind, cold lips catching you off guard as they press themselves against yours.
it fills you up inside, takes all the weight off your shoulders. you’ll recognise him anywhere, without having to look or hear, the way his lips feel against yours, how he holds you gently against him, laughing softly against your lips as you pull him closer to you by the collar.
never in your wildest dreams did you expect to see your boyfriend in japan, let alone at your work party of all places, and now here you both are, kissing under the mistletoe.
“woah relax there,” he teases you, pulling away but still holding you close.
he’s here, he’s actually here. his hair’s in a mess, and there are circles under his eyes, but he’s smiling. he’s smiling at you and he’s here with you and you don’t even feel the tears forming in your eyes because you’re too busy relishing in the moment.
“itoshi sae,” you call out to him, your hands patting on his body, his black coat and his scarf are real and he’s here—he’s really here. “i thought you were too busy to come back…”
how long has it been now since you’d last seen him? a year? perhaps longer? he’s been so busy nowadays that you wondered at one point if he would even come back to you at all.
sae sighs, holding your cheeks in his hands as he presses his forehead against yours. “i’m sorry,” he says tensely, shaking his head slightly. “i was away for so long, and i just…” his teal eyes stare into yours, both your eyelashes dancing against one another. “i missed you, and i just wanted to see you.”
you’re laughing in disbelief, still holding him close because you’re just that afraid that this’ll all be an illusion that might soon slip away. “and they just let you off like that? that simple?”
he presses his lips into a firm line, averting his gaze. “let’s just say that they weren’t happy about it but i’m the important one, so…” he smiles, genuinely, putting an arm around. “they don’t have a choice but to let me come home to see my girl.”
turns out, he’d called in a favour to your boss, asked her about christmas plans because he knew from your texts that you were in charge of putting it all together. and then he asked her to put the gifts in your stocking. and you laugh hearing about it, because you’re thinking of how your life could’ve gone a totally different way. you could’ve gotten into a relationship with someone else who wouldn’t do this much for you, wouldn’t make time for you, wouldn’t travel across the world and put their own things down all in the name of meeting you.
“what’re you thinking about, stupid?”
you look into his eyes, shaking your head. “nothing, it’s nothing, i just- i love you, itoshi sae.” you smile, and sae smiles too because he loves how your smile reaches your eyes. and he loves being the reason you smile so he’s going to keep being that—and he makes a promise to himself to make you happy for life. but maybe that’s a gesture for next time. right now, he just wants to spend the rest of the holidays with you.
the clock strikes twelve, and he steals the mistletoe from you, holding it up between the two of you again, wincing from how cheesy it is after he does it, earning a chuckle from you.
“merry christmas, idiot.” and he kisses you again, long and slow and completely oblivious to everyone else that’s there who are staring and clapping—half of them still in awe that the itoshi sae is here and half of them in shock after putting two and two together that he’s your special guy.
“so, you’re gonna be here till new years’?” you ask in between kisses.
sae nods, “at least, why?”
you grin, pulling him by the belt as you lead him out of the event hall. “think it’s time we get home and just spend it between the two of us, yeah?”
sae laughs, letting you drag him along, wondering whether by this time next year, will he be lucky enough to call you his wife?
but when he sees that promise ring he gifted you still nestling snug around your neck, he has no doubt. you’re each other’s for life. and you’re worth every single risk he has to take.
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asmosmainhoe · 5 months
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MC's eyes glow when they use magic
Hello ☆ I hope u're having a nice day :D I had one request for the Obey Me brothers kek, their reaction to an MC whose eyes glow when they use magic, and when they use the demons powers their eyes change color to the sin color (Ex. Red for Beel, Blue for Luci, etc) and it feels as if they connect with MC in a deeper level? Sorry if its too weird or specific! I've been enjoying reading your writings 🤗
-anon
Note: I'm so sorry that it's so short, love! I've been so busy preparing things for the holidays since I'm visiting my home country :'D
Gender: neutral
Warnings: heavy language
Lucifer
He loves the fact that your eyes glow in the color of his sin when you channel his magic
It fills him with pride to see how that makes the connection between you two so obvious for others
That's right. That's his power
"I must say that blue suits you wonderfully."
He's very casual about it, but he's definitely doing a small dancy dance of victory behind closed doors
Mammon
Of course he is head over heels for your glowing eyes when you channel his magic! They basically look like the shiniest coins he has ever seen!
Besides it makes it more than obvious that you guys have a pact together
"Fuck yea! That's my human over there!"
Please use his power so that people know you're fucking shit up with his help
Leviathan
Levi is absolutely geeking out over the fact that your fucking eyes glow when you use magic
I mean if that doesn't scream main character vibes then I don't know what does
He's so going to use that as inspiration for rpg's or headcanons/fanfictions in the future
And then they glow in his sin's color too when you channel his magic? It's so strangelt intimate that he can't help, but blush
Satan
Since he has read about it he's not really surprised by that, but it's still a huge difference to see it with his own eyes
Especially when he feels you channeling his powers and your eyes light up in his color
Seeing that makes Satan feel like someone punched him in the guts, but in a good way? If that makes sense?
Asmodeus
Your eyes are literally glowing in not only his magics colors, but it's also his absolute favorite one as well!
"MC, you look fantastic when you use my powers! Absolutely stunning!"
Asmo can't stop gushing about it and he always compliments you for an hour straight whenever it happens
This is what others must feel like when he's seducing them with his eyes
Beelzebub
Imagine you have this angry, skilled sorcerer person absolutely wreck your shit, because you wronged them, but their eyes also glow red?! How intimidating is that?
Unlike the person who is suffering under your magic, Beel is completely mesmerized
He can't find the right words to describe how wonderful you look with his color right now
It makes him forget about his hunger
Belphegor
Belphie is so smug about it and can and will rub it under everyone's nose
"Did MC use your magic? No, bitch. Their eyes were purple so sit down."
It's just a very nice and absolute confirmation for the fact that he is your favorite and that his magic was the most useful one to you in that moment
His brothers will never hear the end of it, because he keeps casually mentioning it at every given opportunity
---
Masterlist
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bachiras-toaster · 1 month
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bllk boys who love to share : ̗̀➛
BLUE LOCK BOYS x f!reader
contents. threesomes, dacryphilia, overstimulation, handjob, pussy-eating
ft. bachira, isagi, ness, kaiser, sae, shidou
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BACHIRA when isagi accidentally walks in
with bachira’s back towards the door, he wasn’t able to sense his best friend nearing the entrance. he was too focussed on pinning you down beneath him, interlocking your fingers with his as he pounded into your sloppy cunt to notice the door casually being opened. when you kept shooting flustered glances over bachira’s shoulder, that’s when he finally realised that your eyes were on someone else. and although he was extremely hurt at first, all of his worries washed away when he realised that it was just his friend, isagi— standing there, frozen, his face flushing as his pants got tighter. bachira trusted isagi with his whole life, so of course he would have been okay for isagi to join in on the fun.
bachira now had you sat upon his lap while he leaned against the fluffy pillows of the bed, gently shifting your hips up and down so he could still press his cock further into your pussy. knelt in front of you was isagi, trying to keep his composure while you gave him a hand job, one of his palms shielding his blushing face. his knees were shaking a little against the covers, but he remained high on his knees, even hitching his shirt up a little to reveal his tensed abs, also giving you more room to jerk him off.
“you can look at her if you want, isagi.” bachira smirks as he rests his cheek against the crook of your neck, his eyes gazing up at his best friend. he noticed how isagi seemed to either look over at the wall or down at your hands, but never your face. “she’s really helping you out! the least you can do is look her in the eye.”
NESS letting kaiser have fun with his gf
you were lying against the pillows of the bed, your legs spread wide with kaiser’s face between them as ness sat by your side and ran his fingers gently through your hair. kaiser had made constant advancements towards you behind ness’ back, thinking that if he knew, he’d be judged to shreds. however, he was pleased to hear that ness wasn’t only accepting of kaiser’s behaviour, but also more than willing to allow him to please you. he was practically begging kaiser to sleep with you, not wanting kaiser to dislike him in any way— and if sharing you prevented that, he was more than happy to oblige.
you let out whimpery moans as kaiser’s wet tongue licked another line up between the folds of your pussy before dipping back between them and working shamelessly at your clit. your heart was thumping faster as you squeezed your eyes shut, the only thing keeping you from letting out even louder moans was ness’s comforting hands, which moved to cup the side of your face as he looked at you lovingly.
“she’s so pretty when she moans.” ness smiled blissfully before turning his head to watch ness at work, his eyes sparkling with amazement. “there really is nothing you can’t do! you’re so talented, my girlfriend looks so satisfied!” he gushed before placing a kiss on the side of your neck beneath your jaw, grinning against your skin. “tell him how good you feel, darling. kaiser’s doing a great job, isn’t he?” ness whispered darkly into your ear.
SHIDOU showing sae how it’s done
you were sexually frustrated, shidou could see that. you never usually got a chance to have sex with your boyfriend, sae, and even when you did, it was always missionary. i mean, you always finished in the end, but there was no imagination. that’s why when shidou overheard you complaining to sae about not being experimental enough in the bedroom, he immediately butted in and insisted he show sae how to make you literally shake with pleasure.
that’s how you ended up with your arms tied to the post of sae’s bed, your legs being forced open by shidou as he pumped his cock into you while holding a vibrator up to your clit. your eyes were swelling with tears as you felt your entire body tense up, the only gentle feeling you could sense coming from your boyfriend’s warm touch as he held his palm against your cheek. “she’s actually crying, you’ve outdone yourself,” sae uttered coldly as his thumb drew over your skip to wipe the tears from the corner of your eyes.
“instead of just caressing her face, why don’t you be a dear ‘n hold her legs open instead? she’s tryin’ go close them, see?” shidou chuckled darkly, to which sae rolled his eyes before positioning himself to force your legs even further apart. shidou couldn’t help but be amused as he looked between you and your boyfriend. “don’t sass me, darling,” he grinned at sae, “you should take notes. your girlfriend’s clearly enjoyin’ it.”
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seattlesellie · 6 months
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Reader getting a little embarrassed bc Ellie's strap won't fit?
Sorry of that's too much
perfect fit. ♡
screaming crying losing my mind. what a perf excuse to use “ill make it fit”
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She’d be on top of you, forehead lightly pressed onto yours. You feel her pouty, somewhat chapped lips ghosting over your own, then lightly and delicately pecking the corner of your mouth. It’s one of your favorite types of kisses, makes you melt into the mattress, heavenly sigh, tremble within her touch. The warmth of her breath caresses your skin, a gentle zephyr of intimacy, of being so close. She looks at you so fucking intently, concentrated, fixated, scarred brows knit together and god, you love that little serious line that forms in between them.
The best way to describe her gaze, the most accurate one, would be to say that she looks at you as if she’s studying, genuinely attempting to take in every little gasp that you let out, eager to decipher every subtle nuance of your existencet, every single blink of your eyelids.
Ellie lowers her hand down from your cheek to the base of her strap on, caressing it upon your soaking, gushing slit. When you moan as a result of its bulbous tip hitting the hood of your clit, then your clit itself, Ellie smirks like an asshole. "I can just keep going like that if you want me to”, she whispers, meaning she knows she could make your pussy cum from just rubbing her cock all over its folds. You shake your head no, because as much as you know that it’s true, you yearn for her inside of you, for that intimacy of getting fucked deep with something she treats as if was her own. Ellie chuckles. “What do you want then, babe?” she coos lowly, continuously hitting that sweet spot above your clit that makes you whine, and her grunt.
You attempt to grab the back of her neck and bring her closer to you, to push her in somehow, but you’re too overwhelmed by everything, your hand ends up falling on the mattress and landing with a small thud. You whine, “Ellie…”, she smirks, moistening her bottom lip and slightly pushing the tip in, so it hangs juuuust a tiny bit away from being inside of your hole. “Inside?” she murmurs, never failing to add that teasing “yeah?” of a raspy coo.
You eagerly nod, she loves it when you do that — so fucking pliant, she stops you mid nod for a kiss that leaves the two of you breathless, tongues dancing a nasty, wet, sinful rhythm within the realm of your hot mouth. She leaves your lips with a loud smack. Your lips are swollen, a pout that kills, how could she ever concentrate on something else in her life?
She’d be absolutely lying if she said she didn’t have daydreams (and nightdreams) of your tight cunt stretched out by her cock, of seeing that pretty clit poking and peaking from the top of your pussy, of watching and taking in the sight of the stretch, the way it’ll slide up and down so easily because of how wet you get.
Unfortunately, Ellie did not take the tightness of yourself in consideration. She picked and packed a nine incher, deep blue and veiny, a bold choice, a goddamn cocky one.
You grab her sleek bicep and dent her skin with your nails, she hisses. You’re actually soaking, a pretty clear pool of heavenly nectar formed on the bedsheet, inside the seam of your ass. Your tiny whimpers are shaky and breathy and ever so desperate, egging Ellie on. “please…” you beg even under no command to do so. “Want it that bad?” teases Ellie, but with how desperate she has become, it sounds more like a plea, begging to please tell her how bad.
“need it inside, ellie, n-need you inside”
"Mhm", she hums softly, eyelids descending languidly, surrendering to the ecstasy of hearing your voice. “M’gonna fuck you” — god, you love it when she tells it like it is.
Pampering your cheeks with desperate, wet little kisses like raindrops, she pushes the tip in further, but… it won’t go inside. It’s blocked, your narrow hole begins to burn, redden, eyesight going out of focus, everything fading into a hazy abstraction. “Babe, it won’t…” she murmurs and attempts to fuck herself inside again. “Fuck, t'wont go in”
Your heart quickens its rhythm, a pulsating drumbeat beneath your chest, as you instinctively shut your eyes and, with a mix of embarrassment and restraint, gently bite down on your lip. You spread your thighs even further, attempting to somehow give her more space for movement, she pushes in again, you wince. “Owh, Ellie… owh”
You don't quite know if you're more embarrassed, or more pissed off. Your hole pulsates and yearns for a taste of her dick, but it hurts, and this feeling bubbles up inside your chest — This actual fear of disappointment, of not being good enough like her previous partners, of being or feeling too fragile, too inexperienced. You can't help but scan your eyes over her face, looking for a sign that will tell you that you're right, that you have disappointed her or worse, but before you manage to find it —
“Ffffuuuhck” she exasperates breathily. She strokes your cheeks with her thumb, a worried expression on her face. Her eyes dart over your form, muscles of her jaw tightly clenched. "Don't wanna hurt you", She murmurs and her voice is so sweet, "Can jus' use my fingers, yeah?"
“No, please" you sob, "I’m— fuck, i’m too tight!” your voice is a whine, an actual tear leaking from the corner of your eye, chin wobbling. Ellie’s so fucking torn because poor you, and she knows it hurts — she doesn’t want to hurt you, ever — but hearing those words fall from your lips… it’s hard not to buck her hips inwards and make you take it, miss “too tight”
“This is so… m'sorry” you actually sob, sniffling and avoiding her loving gaze, and maybe if you’d look — instead of letting your embarrassment wash over you and be a murky presence in your mind, your tears might have faltered. “S’not gonna fit”, your chest heaves. Ellie wipes a tear away — from your cheek, from the corners of your eyes, she considers comforting you, telling you to never apologize for anything, ever again, but she's sensible and rational and knows what do to next, to actually stop your tears from falling.
“babe?”, she huskily murmurs. You hum back, holding onto another choked sob.
“I’ll make it fit”
“Know I will”
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ddejavvu · 9 months
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pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!reader
summary: your starbucks order is a little too complicated for aaron to understand.
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Aaron, in many ways, acts like a father. He's stern when he notices one of his agents on their phones during a case, he scolds Reid for not getting enough sleep, and he's infinitely grumpy when traffic is poor. It means that when he swings the van into a starbucks drive-thru on your way back to the precinct, you feel like a kid on Christmas.
"Hotch!" You squeal, mouth already watering in anticipation of your favorite drink, "I knew you were my favorite."
He lets a small, amused smile grace his typically stoic features, hands relaxed at the wheel as he maneuvers the van beside the window.
"Hi, what can I get for you today?" The speakers emit a crackly voice, and you're sure the person on the other end can't be over 20.
"One tall dark roast, and-" Aaron recites, then turns to you, "What do you want?"
Aaron's never heard so many words jumbled together before. You spit the name of your drink like it's lyrics to a song, an unintelligible rhythm to them that Aaron is helplessly lost amidst. You must have told him twenty separate terms, stringing them together in a way he could never hope to reproduce. He blinks once, his jaw shifted so that his lips part slightly.
"What?"
You huff out a laugh, "A-"
"Will that be all for you today, sir?"
Tense, realizing you have no time to coach Aaron on your hyperspecific drink, you surge forwards, nimble hands undoing your seatbelt as you lean across Aaron to speak into the receiver.
Out of reflex, your hand falls to his thigh to brace yourself, and the muscles are strong beneath your fingers. You nearly jumble up your own drink order, especially at the way his breath hitches when you practically crawl over his lap in the seat to stick your head towards the window.
Aaron's never been this close to you before. Not like this, not with your hand on his thigh and your ass not far behind. If he were to glance down, which he won't, he could see straight down your top. He won't, though. He wouldn't have a clear enough head for driving if he did.
Aaron didn't catch your drink order before, and he's certainly not able to now, too overwhelmed by the scent of your perfume and the feeling of your palm braced steadily against his thigh. You dig your fingers into the fabric of his dress pants for stability and he hopes you can't feel the way his slacks tighten ever-so-slightly, cursing himself for chubbing up like a horny teen.
"Okay," The employee hums, furiously pressing buttons on the computer to complete your order, "Is that all for you folks?"
"That's it," You hum cheerily, "Thank you!"
"$11.87,", the voice comes back, not nearly as jovial as you.
You unstick yourself from Aaron's thigh, knee aching from where it had been balanced on the center console. You send him a sheepish smile when your faces are only inches away, lips plumping as they curl.
"Sorry," You breathe, settling back in your seat so that Aaron can pull up to the next window, "I know it's complicated. I didn't think to prep you. I panicked."
"It's alright," He manages to find his voice, using every ounce of strength in his body to fight against the speechlessness that threatens to overtake him. He hands his card to the woman at the window, and sees you already reaching for your wallet to pay him back. He won't let you.
He pulls up to the next window and clears the cupholder of someone's old plastic water bottle, "I don't even think Garcia has that long of an order. And she's notorious for trying pinterest brews."
"It's complicated, but it's good," You gush, happily taking the drink from him when he's handed it by the man in the window. Aaron's surprised they managed to concoct yours in under twenty minutes. Your lipstick leaves a prim stain on the white lid, and you hum in pleasure, "Ooh, they made it just right."
Aaron sips at his own bitter roast, using one hand to steer as he fumbles to fit his drink in the small cupholder. He's got his eyes on the road, and his hands occupied, so he's a little frazzled when the rim of your drink pops into sight beside his face.
"Wanna try some?"
"That's okay, my hands are full." He hums, seriously considering just crashing the car to have a hand to take your drink with. He can't believe he's missing the opportunity to fit his lips over residue of your own, press his mouth to that pretty pink kiss mark you'd left in your wake.
"It's alright, here." You hold the drink to his lips, "I got it."
Aaron steals a glance at the cup as he fits his mouth around the spout, spending as much time as he can staring at your lipstick on the rim before looking back up at the road. You tilt the cup towards him, and the drink floods his mouth, excessively sweet and creamy.
He nods and you lower the cup again, careful not to spill any on his neat, white dress shirt. He hums at the taste, hoping you share a similar one, "That's good. Very sweet."
"Mhm." You agree, raising the drink to your own lips again. Aaron feels a sheen of grainy residue on his lips, and he's hoping it's not the stain of your lipstick, just the feeling of it.
He's unlucky.
"Oh, Hotch," You laugh, "There's lipstick on your face. Hang on," You lean over, smearing your thumb against the very corner of his mouth, "There. Sorry," You're sheepish as you settle back into your seat, "The perks of sharing drinks, I guess."
Aaron thinks he'll remember the feeling of your hand pressed against his face for eternity, and he'd be willing to suck down a thousand cups of liquid sugar just to feel it again.
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