diordrysdale

[diordrysdale]

𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ꗃ⋆࣪. rafe cameron + his mexican! gf 𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ꗃ⋆࣪.

— based on this ask right here ✧

— dedicate to @lustnluv (bc of this post here!)

[diordrysdale]

"Tease" - Rafe Cameron x Reader

a/n: for a request from @maidmerrymint for rafe with a reader who's just as bad as he is. i hope you enjoy this! 🩷

Summary: Rafe wants you, his best friend's girl.

Word Count: 2,500

Rating: 18+, MDNI

TW: infidelity, alcohol consumption, toxic reader, toxic rafe, afab reader, she/her pronouns, profanity, innuendo, semi public sex, unprotected sex, p in v sex, fingering, oral m receiving, size kink

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Outer Banks characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷

For Rafe, the absolute highlight of coming to the Island Club early on Saturday mornings is seeing you.

His best friend’s girlfriend.

After he finishes a round with Topper and Kelce, he stops by the club’s cafe, eager to see you, sure that you’ve probably just finished up your private tennis lesson. Your parents spare no expense when it comes to you, their little varsity star. He sees you, sitting there on one of the barstools, legs dangling over the edge as you scroll through your phone and sip on a piña colada. His eyes rake over your form in that little pink tennis skirt and matching polo shirt, knee socks, and pristine white tennis shoes. The sight of your thighs and the little sliver of your stomach that shows between the bottom of your shirt and top of your skirt brings a grin to his face as he walks over to you with all the confidence of the alpha male he knows he is.

“Oh, hi, Rafe,” you greet, barely even bothering to look up from your phone, irking him.

Rafe smirks, “How was the tennis lesson, princess?”

“It was good,” you hum, taking a sip of your drink, “Sectionals are coming up soon, so my coach is riding my ass.”

“I’d love to ride that little ass-”

“Sorry, did you say something?” You ask, glancing up from your phone, tossing your hair over your shoulder.

Rafe shakes his head, taking a seat beside you, “Nope, not a thing.”

“You and Top have a good game?”

“Oh yeah, totally annihilated him. He’s really starting to lose his touch,” he jokes, leaning in close to you, his thigh pressed up against yours.

“Let my boyfriend win once in a while,” you tease, “It puts him in a good mood.”

“Nah, princess, you know how competitive,” Rafe grins cheekily, “You should’ve seen him sulking back there, fuckin’ crybaby.”

You giggle, dropping your phone in your purse, crossing your legs, your foot now resting against Rafe’s calf, rubbing gently, the sensation making his cock twitch in his shorts, “Yeah, that’s Topper. He’s a sulker.”

“I would never sulk.”

Rafe feels quite pleased with himself as the way you giggle, your foot still moving along his calf, gaze meeting his as you tease, “Maybe I like the sulking. Some girls prefer sensitive boys, Rafe.”

“Do you like sensitive boys?”

He moves his eyes along your legs, letting them rest on your thighs for a moment too long to be appropriate. You’re so close that he can smell your natural scent mixed with the vanilla body wash he knows you shower with. Maybe it’s creepy that he knows that, but Rafe doesn’t give a fuck.

“That’s for me to know and you not to find out.”

Rafe elbows you playfully, “Oh, come on, don’t be such a little tease. You’re gonna get me all hot and bothered if you keep on talking to me like that.”

Your lips curl into a little smile as you chide playfully, “You can’t talk to your best friend’s girlfriend like that. People might get the wrong impression.”

“Or the right one… Nothing wrong with a little harmless flirting,” he ogles you shamelessly, and you don’t seem keen on stopping him, “Think Top would throw a fit if he saw me with you like this? Heard the way I’m talking to you?”

“Mmm, he trusts you. And he trusts me.”

“That’s boring,” he leans in closer, “Cuz from what I’ve heard, you’re one jealous little girl. You hate when other girls try to play with your toys. So I’m sure you’d want your man to get all possessive and protective over you.”

“You don’t think Topper’s possessive enough over me?” You ask, leaning forward, resting your chin on your palm as you smile at him.

“I personally think he should keep a wild little thing like you on a tighter leash,” Rafe replies, “And I think you’d enjoy it. Topper’s a nice guy. Too nice and too weak for someone like you.”

You pout, “A leash? So cruel, Rafe.”

“You should be disciplined too,” he continues, his nose nearly brushing against yours with how close you are, “I think you’re craving more than what Topper can give you. A stronger, more aggressive man who can tame you.”

You bite your lip, gazing up at him through your lashes, “How would you tame me, Rafe?”

“By knowing exactly which buttons to push. How to make you beg. And scream. And cry.”

“You wanna see me cry? You’re kinda mean, aren’t you?”

“Maybe I am,” he laughs darkly, “But you’re into that. The meaner I am to you, the better it gets for you. You like it.”

“Maybe I like nice boys.”

“Nice boys?” Rafe scoffs, “Nice boys are boring. I bet you’re so fuckin’ bored with Topper. He’s a boy and you need a man like myself to satisfy you.”

“Are you trying to poach your best friend’s girlfriend?”

“I might be trying to turn you into my girlfriend.”

“I thought Rafe Cameron doesn’t do relationships.”

He chuckles, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, fingers lingering against your cheek, “Maybe Rafe Cameron will make an exception for you.”

As if on cue, Topper walks over toward the two of you and you pull yourself away from Rafe, rushing into your boyfriend’s arms, pressing yourself up against him and kissing him passionately. Rafe watches with thinly veiled jealousy, knowing that the exaggerated moans are all for his benefit, the way you grind yourself against Topper. You open your eyes as you kiss Topper, keeping your gaze locked on Rafe’s, watching as his jaw ticks, his nostrils flare. He’s fucking pissed.

Topper takes you by the hand leading you to his car after saying goodbye to Rafe. You do the same, giving him a cute little wave, blowing him a kiss when Topper’s turned to leave. His gaze doesn’t leave you until well after you and Topper have driven away.

Rafe’s blood boils as he sees you dancing with Topper at the kegger that night, your back pressed to his front as you grind that pert little ass against him, his arms wrapped around your waist. And you know how you’re affecting Rafe. He can tell when you look over at him with that little smirk. You’re getting off on this. Knowing that he’s watching you. Knowing that he wants you but seemingly can’t have you. People think you’re such a fucking sweetheart, but he knows the truth. You’re just as manipulative and twisted as he is. He watches as you bring Topper’s hands up to squeeze at your tits, your lips finding his, the sight making him nearly growl with annoyance. He crushes the solo cup in his hand, tossing it to the ground, and stalks over to the keg to grab another.

He watches as you whisper something to Topper before sauntering toward the keg yourself. You look so fucking good in that little sundress, your tits nearly spilling out over the top of it, the hem barely reaching your mid thigh. He wonders if you even bothered wearing a bra or panties underneath. You meet his gaze, giving him a lazy little grin.

“Oh, hey, stranger.”

“Hey,” he replies, his voice low and gravelly as he leans over the keg, “What’re you drinking?”

“I’m driving tonight, just getting my boyfriend a beer.”

“What are you, his beer wench?”

“Just trying to be a good girlfriend, Rafe,” you giggle.

“You two were getting kinda freaky over there, weren’t you?”

He watches as you cover your mouth with a dainty little hand, feigning surprise, “Oh gosh, you saw that? I’m so embarrassed.”

Rafe grits his teeth, grabbing you by the jaw, squishing your cheeks together ever so slightly, staring down at you, eyes flickering between that pouty little mouth and those doe eyes, “You know I did. You made sure to grind up on him when I was looking. You wanted me to be jealous. You wanted to keep me hooked on you.”

“Are you? Hooked on me?”

He scowls, “You’re such a fuckin’ tease, you know that?”

You giggle, gazing up at him, “Don’t act like you don’t love it. You like that I’m just as bad as you are.”

Rafe can’t deny that. All he can do is stare down at you, at those plump lips that are just begging to be kissed. His tongue darts out to lick his lips before he finally speaks again.

“You know what would be really hot?”

“Hm?”

“If you kissed me. Right now.”

His eyes widen in surprise when you lean in toward him, pressing your lips to his jaw, letting them linger there for a moment. They’re so plush and soft, it drives him fucking crazy. You giggle, taking his hand and leading him toward the abandoned lifeguard tower, where the two of you can talk without being seen. Not that either of you really care at this point.

Rafe pushes you up against the tower, hands moving under the bottom of your dress, a low groan leaving his mouth when his palms caress the bare flesh of your ass. He was right. You didn’t bother putting anything on. You moan against his lips as he kisses you ravenously, as if he wishes to consume you entirely. He squeezes your soft flesh, needing it between his hands, cock straining against his jeans as he continues to kiss you. You moan at the feeling of his fingers tracing your slit, gathering the wetness there, before he pushes three inside you without any warning, making you whine pathetically at the stretch. Your phone goes off and you reach for it, seeing that it’s Topper. Before you can decline it, Rafe grabs the phone from you and hits accept call. Your jaw drops, eyes going wide as he begins pumping his fingers in and out of you, arching his brow, a silent demand for you to speak.

“H-Hey, babe,” you manage to eke out, your breath coming out heavier than normal, prompting your boyfriend to ask what’s going on, “Oh, I uh, I ended up going home. Wasn’t feeling too well. I just threw up, actually… No, no, you were having fun, didn’t wanna ruin your night. Have fun. Love you.”

You hang up, tossing the phone onto the sand beside you, kissing Rafe again, mewling as he rubs against that spongy spot deep inside you furiously, grinning against your lips as he feels you clenching around his fingers. You reach your peak, evidence of your arousal coating his fingers, which he brings to your lips. He pushes them into your mouth, chuckling at the sight of your lips wrapped around the digits, the feeling of you licking them clean like a little fucking kitten, gazing up at him, eyes dancing with mischief. You’re a fucking minx and Topper is insane if he thinks he’s man enough for you.

You palm at Rafe’s cock over the fabric of his jeans, murmuring, “Do you have a condom?”

He pauses for a moment, running a hand over his face in annoyance, “Fuck…”

“It’s fine,” you say, unbuttoning his jeans, freeing his cock, giving it two slow pumps with that soft little hand of yours, “Just pull out. I need your dick inside me right now.”

Rafe nods eagerly, grasping at the head of his cock, pushing inside you with a moan of your name. He’s so much thicker than Topper, and a bit longer too, that it stings a bit at first. For his part, Rafe’s never had a girl whose pussy takes him as fucking well as yours does, the feeling of your warmth around him driving him almost insane with lust. He’s like a feral beast as he pushes you against the lifeguard tower, pinning your arms above your head with one hand, using his other hand to tug at your dress, pulling it down enough to free those soft, round tits, his lips wrapping around one of your nipples, suckling at it greedily.

He hikes one of your legs around his waist, allowing him to fuck you deeper, listening to you moan his name like a bitch in heat. He’s listened in on you and Topper before, he has no qualms in admitting it. And he’s never heard you this fucking responsive. It’s all for him.

You’re so fucking tight as he pounds into you, the fat head of his cock rubbing against that spot that has your toes curling, your lips parted in a silent scream of his name. Rafe can feel himself getting close and moves to circle your clit with his fingers, rubbing at the swollen little nub furiously, feeling you tremble around him as you inch closer and closer to your climax, before finally? He feels you gushing around his cock, soaking him. 

He pulls out reluctantly, already missing your warmth, only to groan as he feels you take him into your mouth, far enough to hit the back of your throat, your eyes watering as you gag on his cock, though you seem content to do it. You hollow your cheeks, bobbing your head up and down on him, your hot wet mouth feeling almost as good as that tight little cunt did.

He’s going to have to convince you to let him cum inside you one of these days.

Rafe grabs his phone, making a video of your pretty lips wrapped around his cock, ruined mascara trailing down your cheeks as you continue sucking him off, one of your hands wrapped around the base of his cock while the other massages his balls. He pulls out of your mouth just before he reaches his peak, and you stick your tongue out, letting the thick, white ropes of cum spill onto it. You look so fucking pretty like this, your lips and tongue covered in his spend. He ends the video and takes a quick picture of it, setting it as his home screen. Almost as his lock screen, but even Rafe has limits.

You stand on your feet, adjusting your dress before giving him a cheeky smile, “Well, you finally gave in.”

“Huh?”

You tug on the Cartier chain Rafe wears, pulling him close to you as you whisper, “I only ever dated Topper to make you jealous. Looks like it worked.”

He scoffs, tugging at your hair, pulling it back to expose your neck to him, his teeth grazing against your soft flesh, “Little fucking tease. I really am going to have to discipline you. First thing you’re gonna do is break up with your stupid little boyfriend.”

You giggle, feeling his hands groping at your tits as he continues kissing your neck, “And then?”

“And then I’m going to fuck you so hard that you’re not going to be able to go to your little fucking tennis lessons for a week. You’re all mine now, princess. And I’m all yours.”

You smile, “Good.”

[diordrysdale]

How would rafe react the first time you call him papi? I feel like it’d be a surprise because he’s never been called that before!!

already elaborated on this for sweetheart!reader so here is americana!reader bc she’s a cutie patootie <3

rafe cameron absolutely loved calling you pet names, and he had a laundry list of names he’d found himself calling you by: pretty girl, mama, baby, princess, angel, kid — the lists goes on and on. he reserved calling you by your full name for when he had to command your attention, it let you know whether or not he was upset with you. however, you’d been used to calling him by his first name, but there was a part of you that hated how not-romantic it came off, you wanted a pet name for him, because he was yours and you felt as though he should have one. i mean, sure, sometimes the name rafey fell from your lips, but you felt it was a lazy nickname and a bit too boyish for the man you call your lover.

you didn’t even realize that the new pet name for rafe had subconsciously slipped off of your tongue as you bent down to greet rafe with a chaste kiss to his pink lips, “hi papi,” you smiled, completely missing the way rafe’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the sound of his new name. frankly, he didn’t know where the fuck that came from, but he wasn’t questioning it either, he thought it was hot. catching onto rafe’s silence, you slightly pouted, your head cocked to the side as you parted your sticky and glossed lips to speak, “did i- did i do something wrong?” you questioned, your doe eyes cutely widening with feverish panic as rafe ran his hand through his greasy curtain bangs with a breathy and flustered chuckle.

bringing his gaze to meet yours, rafe shifted his hips as he leaned back into the couch, “papi? that’s new,” he questioned, his flexed arms crossed over his chest as you blinked with realization.

“oh! yeah, do you like it? s’just that you’re older than me, so i feel kinda stupid calling you baby,” you reasoned aimlessly, walking towards rafe as you carefully straddled his lap, your denim skirt riding up the curve of your plush ass as rafe nodded with a smirk playing on his handsome face. with an exasperated sigh, you bite back a blushing smile as you catch rafe’s eyes staring at your mouth, “do you really like it?” you press, suddenly overwhelmed and feeling a bit too vulnerable due to the externally close proximity between you and rafe.

“i love it, princess — it sounds even better than daddy,” he teases, nudging your tummy with his ringed finger, before sliding his hand up to the base of your throat, wrapping his long fingers around your neck in a gentle hold, “s’that what you think i am? m’your daddy, huh pretty girl?” he coos in a mocking tone, his lips pulling into a subtle pout as you nod, licking over your swollen lips as rafe watches you with lowly hung eyes.

with a cheesy smile, you nodded, “rafey, come on,” you whined.

“tell me, mama — who takes care of you?” rafe cooed, his handing gripping your throat just a bit tighter.

with a shaky inhale, you watched as rafe unbuttoned his khakis with his free hand, your mouth watering as he reached his hand beneath the waistband of his boxer, “you,” you sighed, licking over your swollen lips.

“who keeps that pretty little smile on that pretty face?” rafe breathes out, pulling his hardened cock out, allowing it to slap against his tight stomach, his thick mushroom tip leaking with sticky pre-cum.

letting out a needy whine, you lift your hips, reaching your small hand down to pull your dainty crème colored lace thong to the side, “you do, papi,” you slowly sink down onto rafe’s length, a throaty moan leaving your parted and puffy lips as rafe filled you to the hilt, his heavy balls pressed right underneath the curve of your plush ass.

staring up at you through his stringy curtain bangs, rafe leans his head back against the couch, gently pushing his large hand against the hardened part of your tummy, smiling in pride as he felt the slight bulge of his tip, “fuck — y’know i’ll always be your papi, princess,” rafe slides his hand to wrap around your back, pulling you into his chest as he slowly fucks his hips up into yours, “m’always gonna take care of my baby,” rafe groans into you ear, relishing in the sound of your squelching pussy as he maintains his disgustingly slow and deep pace, soaking in every sound of your pretty little moans as your nails dig into the side of his neck.

[diordrysdale]

౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ Take My Breath

Pairing; Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings; smut, dark themes, non con, breeding kink, oral- both receiving, degrading, size difference, unbalanced power dynamic, huge daddy kink, choking- to the point reader can’t breathe, dumbification, dacryphillia, spanking, steve is very dark in this, no aftercare!! i think thats it? Minors please DNI!!!!!

Summary; Steve Rogers, your boyfriend, the man everybody loved, his soul soft, standing against all evils. Until he got a taste of that sweet power. He became hungry. Now, you have no choice but to obey his rules. Can you bring him back to the light? Or is it too late? (it’s definitely too late)

here we have my first ever full fic! firstly i would like to give a huge thankyou to @dbnightingale24 for giving me the confidence and tips to write this! and another big thankyou to @evansbby and @hansensgirl for inspiring me in the first place for begin writing💘it’s around 3k words and i really put my all into this so please don’t forget to comment and reblog, i would love to hear all of your feedback!🫶🏻 much love, cherry.

₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧

Steve Rogers, the man everyone respected, the man everyone believed in, looked up too. The man you used to cherish, his sweet boyish nature drawing you in from the moment you met. His pearly blues that used to soften as they fell on you, his gentle touch as he caressed your hair, the tender, loving kisses he used to leave all over your body.

Until Fury resigned that was.

Steve was officially the new director of shield, to which nobody opposed, i mean, who would right? He was Captain America, the man out of time. He was perfcet for the role. Strong willed, commanding yet understanding, he had respect for those beneath him and most of all he was compassionate, something that was hard to find in a good leader. This didn't last for long, of course.

Steve shortly became power hungry, his morals became more sick and twisted as his methods became more sadistic. He was violent, cruel…volatile. There was no bringing back Steve Rogers. The problem was he dragged everybody else down with him, nobody dared to stand up to Steve, too frightened of the consequences.

Tony couldn't talk Steve down, he tried for a while, attempted to reach out to him, guide him back to the light...but nothing worked. Tony couldn't do it, nor could you, not even his best friend of over a decade could sway his newfound mindset. You all figured it was best to keep your heads down from now on and follow Steves orders, no matter how out of line they seemed.

Not that you had a choice anyway.

Bucky was short to follow in his footsteps as his second in command. Both cruel and unforgiving. Your friendship with Bucky was practically non-exhistant, you no longer had movie nights together, giggling with big buckets of popcorn.

A simple nod of his head as he passed you down the hall was about as much as you would get. Steve wouldn't allow it now anyway.

Steve's display of affection changed alongside him, the love he made was no longer passionate, or gentle. In fact, he didn’t make love at all anymore… what he made was simply rough, hard, fucking.

The marks he left behind were no longer loving hickeys while he whispered in your ear, moaning sweet nothings as he gently thrusted his hips into your own. His eyes, gleaming with nothing but pure devotion.

They were bruises... bruises from how hard his hips slammed into your ass from behind, his grip tight on your hair, pulling and tugging as your skin became flustered at the impact of his thrusts. You missed the man he was. You often thought about that life while his cock was busy destroying your cunt. He didn’t care about your pleasure anymore, you were nothing but a hole for him to fuck.

From a distance you could hear Steves heavy boots storming down the coridoor. The sound was instantly unsettling. Your body recognising the noise as a trigger for an oncoming threat, sending you into alert mode.

You stood from your office chair on shaky legs, your posture rigid as he turned the corner to enter. His 6'4, stoic figure coming into view, casting a shadow that filled the room. His broad shoulders spread wide, his presence making your tummy tighten with unease.

He said nothing as he stared down at you, your fingers tugging at your short pink skirt- which he had chosen out for you this morning, the same way he customised your figure every morning. Claiming your dumb, baby brain was incapable of choosing an outfit that proved elegance and professionalism. In reality it was the complete opposite.

He liked to dress you in short skirts, ones that left little to the imagination, your asscheeks peeking out most days and revealing blouses, your tits practically spilling out of your shirts. You were highly sought after by the males at the compound before he came and scooped you up a few years ago.

They knew you were his, i mean he was your boyfriend for several years, you were what the female agents used to coo at, naming you as "couple goals". Where Steve went, you went, and vice versa. You were always seen smiling and giggling together, tag teaming on missons and holding hands as you explored the compound.

But, as steves power grew so did his insecurity. His possesive nature grew strong, wanting, no, needing to show other men you belonged to him, and only him. And you always would, whether you liked it or not.

"Get on your knees."

"Wh-What?"

"Get on your knees. You know i don't like to repeat myself." he growls while pushing your office door closed with one arm from behind, not daring to take his eyes of you.

You gulped as he stepped forward, caging you inbetween his thick biceps as you lean against your desk. One thing he was always good at was making you feel small. Even before all of this. Of course it wasn't anywhere near as threatening as it was now. He used to joke about how tiny you were compared to him, how he could pick you up with one hand, it was cute how big and protective he was of you.

Now, he used it to his advantage. He knew you feared him. He knew that you knew, you would never be able to run from him. He would overpower you every damn time with his brute strength.

There was no running from Steve Rogers. His thick beard scraped against your sensitive skin sending shivers down your spine as he groaned into your neck, your scent driving him wild.

He whispered darkly in your ear "Final chance. Get on your knees. Now, or you won't like what'll happen if you refuse me again."

You inhaled sharply, goosebumps spreading across your body in pure fear, or ecstacy. It was hard to tell these days. Steve had conditioned you so well to his own liking that even your body reacted to him in ways you would never fully understand. Or so he says.

Slowly you inched down towards the floor with your knees bent. The cold, rough flooring instantly proving to be uncomfortable as you figited. But Steve didn't care about that, why would he? His thick hand gripped your chin, forcing you to look up at him through hooded eyelids.

His thumb swipes across your bottom lip, he then pushes further, massaging your tongue as saliva begins to pool in your mouth. Removing his thumb slowly, he tugged on your bottom lip with pinched fingers. Before you even realised what was happening he shoves two fingers down your throat.

You sputter and gag around his thick digits, drool leaking out of the corners of your mouth, dripping onto the hard floor. Your eyes squeezed shut in pain as tears began rolling down your flustered cheeks.

His other hand is quick to grip your hair, tugging harshly. "You fuckin' look at me while daddy gags you with his fingers. Actin' like you don't get off on this shit. You love it. Say 'thankyou daddy'." he mocks with a high pitched tone.

Desperately trying to get the words out, you mumble around his fingers, seeming incoherent. He laughs darkly at your poor attempt, shoving his fingers deeper down your throat, gagging you one last time before pulling out.

"You gonna' be a good whore n' suck my dick? Huh? You fuckin' slut." His hand reaches down, pulling your shirt to the side, making your tits spill out. You hear him let out a loud groan, his pants tightening at the sight of your bare chest. He pinches your hard nipple roughly, rolling it roughly inbetween his index finger and thumb as you cry out, tears continuing to stream down your cheeks.

He shushes your cries gently as he begins to massage the same spot he previously assaulted making you keen with pleasure.

He had a thing for associating pain with pleasure, confusing your silly little brain into thinking the hurt he put you through was a good thing since pleasure soon followed. That he was rewarding you.

"Unzip me. Cmon' you dumb baby, take daddys fat cock out."

Listening to your own heartbeat in your ears, your head pounding with adrenaline, your fingers itch towards his pants. Which was apparently too slow for his liking as his grip on your hair tightens, making you sqeeze your eyes shut briefly before opening them, not wanting to anger him further.

You hurridly unzip his pants, reaching into his boxers and pulling out his cock. It's angry head pointing towards you as he grips the base with his other hand, slowing pumping his shaft over your face.

He pushes his bulbous tip into your closed lips, smearing his hot precum all over them. When you refuse to open your mouth he growls, pinching your nostrils closed. Feeling the air begin to leave your lungs, you gasp for breath and he's quick to shove his dick down your throat.

Gagging at the intrusion you cry harder, your lips stretching to fit around his thick length. his hips thrusting into your face as he fucks your throat harshly.

"That's it, you whore. Take daddys dick all the way down your throat. You fuckin' remember this the next time you try to refuse me."

His hand which was previously tugging at your hair moves towards your throat, holding you in a tight grip.

"Fuck... i can feel my fuckin' cock in that tiny throat of yours. Love it when you cry f' me, just makes me want to fuck you even harder, sweet girl." he grunts loudly over the sound of your gagging. Steve swiftly pulls his dick out as you keel over, coughing and sputtering, your throat sore from his brutal assault.

Before you even have a chance to gain your breath, his thick hands grip your shoulders, pulling you upright, bending you over your desk. Your legs shaking as he positions you so your ass is sticking out.

Lowering himself to the ground, he grips the flesh of your ass, squeezing roughly as he lifts up your skirt, briskly pulling your panties to the side. He shoves his nose into your pussy, groaning in delight at your sweet scent.

"Fuck i could live inbetween these slutty legs, your cunt's always ready for daddy, huh? Trained you so well." Your sticky juices smeared across your legs, dripping with desire, his facial hair bristling against your thighs making you squirm.

He mercilessly pushes his tongue as deep as it can go into your hole. You whimper as he laps up your wetness, his tongue prodding at your insides. Your arousal soaking his beard while your pussy clenched around his tongue. He pulls away for a moment, “God, how do you taste so fuckin’ good.” he groans.

Reaching back to grip his hair in your small fists, you go to push his face back into your cunt, completely overwhelmed with pleasure. His hand grips your wrist tightly, pining your arm to the desk, a sure reminder of who's in charge, seeming as you had forgotten your place. “Stay fuckin’ still or i’ll stop. Don’t you ever pull that shit again.”

You moan lewdly as he moves to latch onto your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around your sensitive bundle of nerves. Groaning into your pussy as he fists his cock.

Your eyes begin to roll back as your orgasm itches closer. Steve, realising this, pulls away once again. Your juices stringing from your clit to his lips as you cry out, your orgasm beginning to fade.

"Stop with the fuckin' whining. Daddy's gonna' fuck you now. Tell daddy how much you want his cock...Cmon. No need to act all innocent now." he pressures at your hesitation.

"P-Please daddy wan' you to fuck me."

"You can do better than that." Steve husks, giving your ass a harsh smack from behind, knowing your skin will blister from his force.

Your lips quiver as you cry, "Please! N-Need your cock inside me so badly, wan' you to destroy me for anybody else. Wanna' feel you in my cervix daddy, Jus' wanna make you feel good. Love how full you make me feel. Please...I-I'll die if you don't fuck me. Pretty pretty ple-."

and before you can finish your sentence your cut off by your own scream, his cock dissapearing inbetween your folds as he bottoms out with a singular thrust. Your legs become slack as your body spasms at the intrustion, his hands grip your hips, keeping you in place as you squirm, instinctively trying to escape his hold.

"F-Fuck, Y-Your so big daddy. It hurts so bad, p-pull out!"

"Shut up." he groans as his thick hand covers your mouth from behind. “Gonna fuckin’ dog fuck you til you can’t think of anything but this fat fuckin’ cock you dirty little slut, you hear me?” he practically growls as he begins to fuck you.

The sound of clapping skin begins to fill the room, agents around the compound sure to hear the way his dick bruitalises your cunt.

"Such a filthy girl i have, always so desperate for daddy to fuck you, even when you try and deny it, i know this sweet pussy would never lie to me." He coos in your ear as you sob, your face wet with tears and saliva.

"My messy whore, see what happens when you don't listen to me? You see what a mess you become? Fuck. You look so pretty like this, this is how you should always be, filled to the brim with my fat dick.”

Steve had always loved fucking you braindead, watching as your eyes glaze over and your tongue begins to hang out of your mouth, drooling all over yourself. It made him feel powerful, like you were dependent on him. Which you were in a sense, always so needy and desperate for him to fuck you.

The impact of his animalistic thrusts turn your skin raw as he speeds up. His arm wrapping around your waist, pressing you close to him as he spreads his legs further apart, hitting a new angle inside your pussy. You let out a loud wanton moan as his balls slap against your clit.

“F-Fuck yes! H-Harder daddy.”

“Yeah? You like that? I know you do, it’s okay. Is my little girls brain goin’ fuzzy? Huh? Poor girl.” Steve mocked, amusement clear in his tone. "M' gonna' cum. Daddy please can i cum?" you whine, the knot in your stomach tightening, a warning that your orgasm was near.

"Yeah baby? You gonna' cum for me you dirty whore? Go ahead, cum all over my dick. Can feel you clenching around me, grippin' me like a fuckin' vice."

Your cream coats his length as you let out a muffled cry, biting your lip harshly as you cum.

"T-Thankyou daddy. Feels s-so good..." you babble, your thick cream creating a ring around the base of his cock. Your weight giving out once again as Steve holds you, smirking as he watches you come undone, giving you no escape from his relentless thrusts.

His thick shaft pummeling your insides as you scream with ecstacy, your pussy throbbing as he fucks you through your high.

"F-Fuck look at that... love watching your cream leak around my cock, taking this dick so good for me. Gonna' cum inside you...yeah? You want daddy to fill you up?" he groans as his own orgasm nears, talking himself through it.

"God, this cunt treats me like a fuckin' king. It's coming baby, daddys gonna cum, Oh fuck fuckkk." his hips twitch and his balls throb as his load begins to fill you, shooting out thick ropes of hot cum into your pussy. Moaning at the sensation of his warmth inside you.

“Take my fuckin’ cum. That’s it, good girl. Love watchin’ your pussy swallow my hot fuckin load, bet you love it too, hm? You slut.” he pants, exhausted from the brutal fucking he just gave you.

He snaps out of it almost instantly, pulling out without warning and tucking his softening cock back into his pants.

Giving your ass a harsh smack, he steps back. You turn to look at him, your eyes glazed over. He stares at the ground with no emotion as he combs his locks with his fingers, making himself seem presentable.

Hope fills you, your heart races as you lick your lips in anticipation, wondering if he will stay to comfort you and hold you the way he used to many months ago.

But he doesn't. You get nothing but a short glance as he turns to exit your office, slamming the door shut on his way out. You slump down against the floor, a complete mess.

Your soft cries turn to sobs, breathing rapidly, your hands gripping your hair as you raise your knees to your chest. It was almost as if he had you in a trance when he was burried inside your cunt, as soon as he was done it was like the fog in your brain had cleared.

People told you there was no bringing the old Steve back, that your sweet, caring boyfriend was gone. Replaced by a monster.

You didn't want to believe them... but maybe you should've.

₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧

#chris evans x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers smut #yes yes to everything

[diordrysdale]

OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG

[diordrysdale]

STEVE WE WERE ROOTING FOR YOU WE WERE ALL ROOTING FOR YOU

𝐖𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑☆.｡.:*

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!

“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.

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

#I literally balled my eyes out #TRUST NO MAN #ari levinson #steve rogers

[diordrysdale]

》 EYES DON’T LIE — rafe cameron x reader

word count — 6.5k 😫 SORRY they keep getting longer and longer LMAO idk what to do

warnings — MDNI; dark!rafe, mentions of violence/guns/murder, blood, smut/oral sex (m receiving), swearing, degradation/humiliation (kinda), exhibitionism (again kinda), restraints (cuffs), choking, hair pulling, slight dubcon, too many run-on sentences lol, bad smut writing lmao, proofread only once bc its long af so pls bare with me, lmk if i’m missing anything!!

summary — you’ve never given your boss’s son the time of day, always admiring him from afar. he’s always had a thing for you too, and his fantasies about you become a reality when he finds you walking home drunk one night from a halloween party on the Cut…

a/n — shoutout to @drewstarkeysbae my LOVEEE for the idea! sorry for the delay ofc and ignore the name i didnt know what to call it ok but 900+ followers??? BYE thank u guys soo much for showing support for my writing 🥹 the fact that 1k is literally next??? going 2 cry lol anyway love u guys pls bare w me i’m working on the requests i swear!!!! REBLOGS & COMMENTS always mean the world <33

Rafe’s knuckles were white, his grip on the steering wheel bone-crushing as he soared down the dark road.

His lips were parted, allowing for gasping breaths to cycle in and out. Breathing through his nose was no longer sufficient after the blow Pope landed to his face. The pogue had followed him to the marsh, attacked him, catching him off guard after he’d just buried a literal body.

He’d exhausted his strength, hauling the result of a drug deal gone bad out into the alligator-infested swamp.

He shook his head, groaning in frustration as he recalled rounding the side of the box truck, gun in hand, ready to finish off the pogue that dared to challenge him. When he raised the weapon though, Pope was nowhere to be found. He’d ran off, retreated like a true coward.

He was lucky, Rafe thought, lucky he got away before he became just another problemthat he took care of.

Part of him was glad the boy ran away. He wouldn’t have to conceal and lug another body out to the marsh.

Even with the excess of muscle and strength the oldest Cameron boasted, it would still take a lot out of even the strongest person to drag a dead body across such rugged terrain.

He also felt relief, knowing he didn’t have to worry whether another alligator would swarm at the perfect time to feed, ridding the lake of any evidence.

But, man… most of him wished Pope would’ve still been sprawled out on the ground, helpless and weak when Rafe returned.

He would’ve delivered a non-lethal shot first, maybe to the shoulder or the leg. Something that wouldn’t take him out completely, but bring him enough agony to elicit a fit of crying and begging for his life to be spared.

He would’ve loved to loom over the boy, revelling in the way his eyes grew more frantic, more watery as he stared up at the barrel of Rafe’s gun, the realization that no one was going to save him slowly sinking in. 

He would’ve felt a new sense of fulfillment when he gifted another shot to the boy below him, this time fatal, watching as the life slowly drained from his eyes.

He couldn’t be mad at Pope for ruining his jacket. The blood of his first victim had stained the material long before the Heyward boy had subjected it to a sea of mud and his own blood.

Now, Rafe was left with a horrible pounding in his head, aches all across the board. The gash on his head burned, as did every other cut he’d collected from the altercation. Rafe cursed under his breath each time his wounds sent a surge of stinging pain throughout his body.

He was so engulfed in his own thoughts that he didn’t realize he’d flown past his turn to head home until it was too late.

“Fuck!” He cursed under his breath.

Rafe didn’t want to go any deeper into the Cut than he already was. Simply breathing the same air as so many trashy pogues was enough to repulse the Figure 8 native. He hated crossing the line between the two territories.

The mistake had him slamming a palm down harshly on the steering wheel, the horn sounding loudly as the truck slowed down.

A silhouette caught his attention out of the corner of his eye, shuffling away from the side of the road. Rafe was already jumpy and impatient, eager to get off of the roads and back home. He had plenty to tend to already without adding more problems to the list.

It was North Carolina, and deer were known to run rampant in rural areas, so Rafe dismissed the commotion on the other side of the guard rail to be an animal.

He’d probably startled it when the horn sounded, sent it scurrying away from the road, eminent death or injury.

Smart of it to trust it’s instincts.

Because those things usually were eminent when Rafe was involved.

His foot eased off of the gas, shifting instead to the brake. He didn’t want the deer to run out in front of the truck. He’d already garnered a chore of cleaning for himself in the back, he didn’t want to deal with cleaning the front too.

And honestly, he didn’t want to deal with anymore blood. He already had a headache, and figured a dead animal would smell even worse than a dead human.

But when he focused his eyes the same direction he flashed his brights, he realized it wasn’t an animal that he’d scared.

It was a girl.

Immediately, his interest was peaked. His pain was forgotten as he all but slammed on the brakes, the car screeching to a halt just a few feet ahead of the stranger.

His eyes darted to his side mirror, where he noticed she wasn’t getting any closer. His attention never left the mirror as he pulled the gear into reverse, backing up quickly until his window was even with where she stood.

He wasn’t in a good area. Anything outside of Figure 8 was considered a bad area for the kook, but this was a particularly sketchy part of the Cut. Rafe couldn’t help but wonder why a girl would be out wandering the dark streets by herself at this time of night. Let alone, a girl that looked as enticing as this one did.

Your eyes were wide, pupils blown when you whipped around towards the strange vehicle.

Rafe watched your throat bob as you swallowed hard, retreating slowly closer to the tree line and away from the road as his eyes flitted around wildly.

He felt his pants tightening as you took the cautious steps away from him. You’d almost tripped over your feet, and that’s when Rafe took note of the costume you were wearing.

You’d went to a Halloween party as a sexy cop, wearing only a skimpy bodysuit and accessories to complete the look. Tequila had a way of taking over your nights when you partied, and you couldn’t ignore the fact that you’d had too many shots to be considered sober.

You wished you’d gone with a more conservative look as the wind nipped at your skin, goosebumps raised across your body as you wrapped your arms around yourself. Then again, you hadn’t planned on walking home, though you didn’t see it as an issue.

On paper, it was a recipe for disaster. A drunk girl out alone on the Cut at night, but you’d spent your entire life here. You knew the roads like the back of your hand, and you knew the party you’d been at was really only a straight shot up the long, dark road. You figured things would be fine. You’d walked scarier paths in sketicher areas by yourself before.

But you didn’t account for your boss’ son to be out at the same time you were, traveling on your side of the island.

Rafe didn’t miss the way your arms folded together perfectly around your chest, offering him an enhanced view of your tits.

The fact that you were so intimidated by him, forced the boy to adjust in his seat.

“You alright?” He managed to drawl out.

You only nodded your head, clearly skiddish and nervous at the situation at hand.

“Need a ride?” He almost smiled as he posed the question, mind not registering how insane he had to seem asking a complete stranger to get in his car in the middle of the night.

His eyes trailed away from yours, raking down your body carefully.

He was still on a crazy adrenaline rush from the incident with Pope, not to mention everything before it. He was high, higher than usual since cocaine made it easier for him to do crazy things, like killing someone and disposing of their body.

Or trying to add a second body to the one you just got rid of.

And it could also make him bold enough to shamelessly flag down a random girl on the side of the road at night.

“N-no, no thanks.” The bitter chill in the air had your muscles tensed, forcing a stutter in your speech.

Rafe had to hold back the groan circling in the back of his throat. Your voice was so tiny, so shaky and riddled with nerves. And he hadn’t even done anything yet. Hadn’t even touched you.

Now, he wondered what you might sound like if he did.

He leaned down further towards the passenger seat, deciding to trail his eyes back up to your face.

He narrowed his gaze, and it only took him a few moments to realize who he’d managed to cross paths with.

He only wondered how he didn’t realize just from his view of your body.

After all, he’d studied it long enough to know.

“Hey! You-you’re my dad’s assistant,” he declared. Your eyes grew impossibly wider.

He watched you curse under your breath.

“Let me give you a ride,” You didn’t like the way he darted his tongue out to wet his lips at the end of the suggestion. “You shouldn’t be out here by yourself anyway.” He added, tone laced with warning.

You thought hard, though you didn’t have long to ponder the decision before Rafe was putting the truck in park, swinging his door open.

You stumbled back farther into the grass as he rounded the front of the van, eyes following the view of his legs underneath.

It was when he appeared on the other side of the guard rail that you noticed the red stains that littered his clothing, his face. Strands of his hair curtaining his face had even been coated with the crimson shade, which you could only assume to be one thing.

Your brain tried to come up with other logical explainations, but you knew what he was covered in as soon as you saw it.

Rafe could tell you’d honed your attention in on something, and he dropped his head to follow your gaze.

He actually chuckled lowly, almost forgetting he was covered in blood in the first place. He almost forgot he’d been bashed in the nose, too.

“Oh, shit,” he started, hands running over the material. “I-this isn’t,” he exhaled loudly. “This isn’t what it looks like. I-I got into it with a pogue up the street.” He motioned behind him with his thumb, but you could only focus on the way he addressed your kind.

He picked up on your offense. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I just…” he took a step forward. “Just let me give you a ride home.”

You matched his advance on you with clumsy steps backward, feet tangling together and almost sending you flying to the ground if it wasn’t for Rafe’s quick grip on your arms.

He stopped your descent, large hands wrapped around your arms as he pulled you up and into him. You braced your hands on his chest, forcing him to pull his hips back slightly as to not alert you to the growing stiffness in his pants at the feel.

The close proximity allowed him to smell the alcohol on your breath, confirming what he assumed when he found you.

You were drunk.

And alone.

And he’d been the one to find you.

After the day he’d had, he was thankful to see his luck had finally turned around.

Because what great luck he had to have in order to be in the same place, at the same time as you? To be in the perfect setting to make his move, to act on the things he’d been dreaming about doing to you for so long.

It took everything in him not to act on them right then and there.

He’d always had an eye for you, entrigued by the short skirts and busty tops you wore, obviously trying to get his attention.

He’d thought about it long enough, fantasized endlessly about his dad’s employee since you started working for the family company.

In fact, one of his fantasies went a little something like this, too. Rafe almost laughed at the thought.

The costume you wore was just an added plus. A reward he would get for waiting soterribly long to have you, he guessed.

Your silence gave Rafe the opportunity to continue pleading his case.

“You’re cold,” he softly and slowly trailed his hands up and down your arms now.

“Just let me give you a ride, hmm?”

You stared at him, your inebriated brain scrambling to come up with words, and push them out of your mouth.

“I-I don’t know if that’s appropriate…” you mumbled.

Rafe laughed at your slurred protest. “Are you serious?”

He took another look at your outfit, at the lack of skin you’d left to the imagination.

“Do you see what you’re wearing right now?” He pulled a hand away from her arm to pluck at the collar of her bodysuit instead. “I think we’re past the point of what’s approproate, don’t you think?” 

His lips remained parted even after he finished his lewd thought. He grazed his fingers over your collarbone now, amused by the way more goosebumps raised from your skin, this time from his touch, rather than the wind.

You shuddered as the same fingers reached your face, brushing over the skin of your cheek tenderly.

“Come on,” Your stillness motivated him to continue. “I see the way you look at me when my dad’s not looking…”

His observation had your eyes widening again, though you still didn’t speak.

You didn’t think the glances you’d stolen of Rafe when you were working were noticable to anybody, especially him.

Co-workers and others in the office had made jokes about Ward’s son eyeing you, asking about you, teasing that he was so into you.

But you never paid them any mind, only laughing them off each time the boy was brought up. 

You couldn’t say you weren’t into him, that would be a lie. Though, into his looks might be a better way of putting it.

Rafe was attractive. He was tall, muscular, perfect hair, perfect skin and perfect teeth to match.

He was handsome, charming, but you’d never given him the time of day.

After all, you were his father’s assistant. You thought it to be quite unprofessional to fool with your boss’ son, especially when he paid you the kind of money most people didn’t make in a small town like Kildare.

And you had to admit, it was flattering to be the subject of any rumor involving Rafe Cameron. It was an ego boost you didn’t even know you needed.

You secretly liked the idea of the well known kook pining after you.

You innocently feigned the ‘it would be innapropriate’ card very well to others, but you’d secretly had obscene thoughts about the boy before, too.

Yours were harmless, though. Fantasies of Rafe taking you in his dad’s office, shoving everything off of the desk to bend you over it.

Or maybe staying after hours at night to help you sort through paperwork, before ditching the work to help you sort through an orgasm.

But Rafe’s fixiation with you went beyond an innocent daydream, because Rafe’s mind always had to take him to the darkest depths.

His fantasies included things like this, finding you helpless and alone at night and having his way with you right there.

Or running into you at a party on the beach, maybe slipping something into your drink and taking advantage of you that way.

Both of those things had merged tonight, leading Rafe to wonder if any of the interaction was even real.

The entire day felt so euphoric. He’d dissasociated for the majority of it, something he had to do in order to take care of the kind of business he’d handled that day.

This was real though.

He could tell, because the wind blowing elicited a wave of goosebumps on his skin, too.

He tugged on your arm, garnering your attention, encouraging you to follow him.

Rafe helped you over the guard rail, eyes immediately falling to your ass as you climbed over, watching the ripple of the flesh as you struggled to plant your feet on the other side.

He almost felt a pang of sympathy, felt bad for disrupting your night. 

…Then again, if he left you there to continue on your dark journey, who’s to say someone worse wouldn’t come along? Someone who didn’t have an appreciation for you, for your body, even despite the way you’ve been harsh and dismissive towards them.

So, he hoisted you into the car, making sure to buckle you up and offering you a warm set of pats on your inner thigh before finally closing you in.

He could hardly sit still as he ascended down the road, the absense of street lights leaving only the CarPlay monitor to light the space the two of you shared.

It was enough light to allow him to rake his eyes over the figure in his passenger seat.

You looked so small in the big truck, legs crossed and turned towards the window, hands folded neatly in your lap. You twiddled your thumbs at a fast pace, the same pace he used to bounce his leg.

That’s how he could tell you were nervous.

And he was too.

But more than that, Rafe was excited.

“So you’re not gonna deny it?” His question broke up the silence in the truck, startling you from the dazed state you’d started to doze off to.

“What?” You managed to voice.

“You’re not gonna deny giving me those looks at work?”

You turned your head towards him. 

Your face was flushed red from the alcohol, eyes watery from the wind you’d been walking in.

“What look?” You asked innocently.

Rafe chuckled, gaze shifting to you rather than the road. It stayed on you long enough to make you feel a bit uneasy, worried about his lack of attention to driving the car he was behind the wheel of.

“The same look you’re giving me right now.” His words were accompanied by a large hand resting on your inner thigh.

He gave it a squeeze, prompting you to press your legs closer together.

Maybe sober you would’ve had a different reaction.

But the alcohol only added to your arousal, something about the entire situation was turning you on.

Still, you couldn’t find words to fill the air in the car.

“C’mon,” he insisted. “You got in the car for a reason.”

You still remained silent, deciding an action could speak louder than any words could in the moment.

Rafe felt a sudden shift in the position of his hand, and his eyes jumped to your legs just as you started to part them, silently pressing him to prod his touch further.

You couldn’t see the inquizzative brow he raised, but you did feel the warmth of his palm sliding up your leg, fingers brushing over your clothed heat ever so slightly.

The sensation had you instantly rolling your hips back, creating more of the friction you suddenly craved.

Rafe licked his lips as you spread your legs farther, and he took the chance to cup your core completely.

You pulled a low grown from his mouth when you bucked your hips against his hand, and he couldn’t help but let out a sarcastic chuckle.

But his amusement was soon riddled with anger, as he thought back to every encounter the two of you had shared in the office.

You’d always gave him the cold shoulder, acting like you didn’t want him, like you would never even offer him the time of day. Forced him to jerk off to pictures of you, emptying his loads into tissues and socks when he could’ve been emptying them inside of you, given the way you also shared an attraction for him.

It started to register how much of a game you’d truly been playing this entire time.

And suddenly, his patience meter was flashing red.

Rafe drew his arm back into him as the other one manuevered the steering wheel to veer off of the road.

He ignored your startled gasp as the car came to a screeching halt, your quick grip on the dash the only thing that kept your face from flying forward into it.

Rafe sported an entirely new demeanor now as he pushed the driver door open, and your eyes followed him all the way around the truck, stopping right outside of your window.

Instinctively, you sunk back into the seat when he threw the passenger door open, wasting no time in ripping your seatbelt off.

Rafe gained a tight grip on your wrist, and you winced as he all but dragged you from the car.

“Rafe, what are you-!”

He nonverbally shushed you by tighting his hold on your wrist.

Breathing was momentarily forgotten when the kook stopped at the back of the truck, using one hand unlatch the lock and throw both doors open.

The first thing you registered was the overwhelming smell of iron.

Once your eyes adjusted to the dark, you started to take note of the red puddles of liquid coating the floor, similar to the ones staining his jacket.

Before you could protest, Rafe used your bewilderment to his advantage, shoving you into the truck.

Literally. The box truck set so high off of the ground, his shove did nothing but send you crashing into the cold metal bumper.

This time, he placed two hands around your hips, hoisting you up that way instead.

You had no chance to land your footing, immediately slipping and sliding on the bloodthat pooled the cargo area.

Your face contorted into a look of digust as you lifted your arms, examining the way your skin and costume were now covered in the thick, red fluid.

You were so hyperfocused on the sickeningly dry, sweet metallic scent that your eyes didn’t fall back on Rafe until you felt the bed of the truck shifting under a newly added weight.

Rafe let out a loud grunt as he climbed into the truck, not bothering to shut the doors. It was already dark anyway, and he didn’t mind putting on a show on the off chance that someone was crazy enough to be out on the roads at this hour, like you.

He held his chin higher as he towered over you, blue orbs glaring down his nose at the girl laying before him.

Something about the doe-eyed look you fixed him with, the way your body trembled at the sight and smell of so much blood…only made him more enthralled with the situation.

“Sorry for the mess…” He drawled out, though he didn’t sound sorry at all. In fact, he sounded entertained, almost.

You swallowed hard, eyes raking over the man before you.

Rafe didn’t miss your stare of admiration.

“You been waiting for this, huh?”

All you could do was nod your head, too riddled with a mixture of nerves and excitement to speak.

The kook hovered above you, feet planted on either side of your body as he pouted down at you. “I knew it…I know ‘fuck me’ eyes when I see them.” The words had you clenching around nothing.

He brought a hand to your face, cupping your jaw, giving your head a slight shake. He released his grip to trail his fingers over your lips, pulling down on your bottom one slightly.

You took the chance to make your own statement by parting your lips, hoping Rafe would take the hint and slide the finger inside.

And he did.

It was the first thing he’d thought to do when his eyes caught on to the gap between your lips.

Truthfully, he would’ve tried it whether you’d opened your mouth or not, but you invited him in, making things easier.

You savoured the saltiness of his skin on your tongue, the same way Rafe was savoring the sight of your plump lips wrapped around his digit, the feel of your tongue swirling around it causing his lips to part, too.

“Hmm,” His lips formed into somewhat of a smirk as he scoffed. “I knew you were a slut,” he slowly pulled the finger from your mouth with a pop. “That innocent shit doesn’t work on me, baby.”

Sober you would’ve defended yourself, strung up some lie about how you have no idea what he’s getting at, and no desire to fuck your boss’s son.

But you weren’t sober.

You were, however, far past the point of caring if your facade crumbled or not. 

Especially as the bulge growing in Rafe’s pants became more unmistakeable.

He noticed your intense gaze. “Not so shy now, are you?”

Rafe’s arousal strained against the fabric of his boxers, hand darting down to adjust the uncomfortable situation.

You’d settled onto your knees on the hard floor of the box truck, ignoring the way the cold metal dug into your skin.

“Glad you brought these…” Rafe twirled the cuffs from your costume around a single finger.

“They’re gonna come in handy.”

With that, he grabbed your forearms with one hand and used the other to lock the metal braclets tightly around your wrists.

Yourr hands were bound behind your back, rendering you virtually helpless against your boss’s son, who was finally starting to free his erection.

“Y’ever think about me before?” He rasped as he unbuttoned his pants. His voice was low, as were his eyes as he spoke, and his words slurred together almost like he was the drunk one.

Rafe was only intoxicated on lust, though.

…And coke, of course.

You tried to keep your eyes on his, but couldn’t help letting them fall lower, down to where he started to pump his own length.

Even with notably large hands, his dick still looked huge in his palm, and you found yourself licking your lips at the sight of the precum that was already spilling out of the tip.

You’d had a feeling he was big - most cocky, egotistical asshole males were, but the size still surprised you, worried you almost…

You’d only been with 1 guy before, and it had been a long time since you’d even had sex…

Your thoughts almost had you spacing the question Rafe had asked you.

You took your lip inbetween your teeth, gaze glued to his groin as you breathed, “Yes…”

Rafe immediately groaned out, jaw falling slack. He tilted his head menacingly as he confirmed, “Yeah? What do you think about?” His lips hardly moved as he spoke.

You could feel your cheeks flush red with embarassment. Was he really asking you to disclose the details of the scenes he starred in, in your head?

Rafe could tell his pondering made you tense. He decided to add some more affinity with his tone before he pried again, though his actions didn’t match the empathy he tried to portray.

Rafe wound a hand tightly in the hair at the nape of your neck, giving it a harsh tug and forcing you to tilt your head back. Naturally, your jaw fell slack.

“I said…” he paused as your breath hitched in your throat. “Tell me what you think about me doing to you, baby…”

You cleared your throat softly, finding your voice where his words trailed off.

“I…” You winced at the feel of his nails scratching against your scalp.

“I think about you…fucking me in your dad’s office…” You voice was so quiet and fragile, and Rafe loved the slight tremble behind it.

“Mmm…” He took a moment to close his eyes, visiting the scene in his mind. “At the office?” He taunted “Bet you’d like that, hmm? What a little whore…”

You pressed your legs tighter together at the name he called you.

“Bet you wanna suck my cock too, yeah?” Your gaze met the subject in question, now at your eye level as Rafe stepped closer to you.

He lined himself up with your face, and you knew what he expected you to do next, though he gave the instuction anyway.

“Open up.”

Rafe could’ve came right there at the sight of your lips parted for him, just waiting to suck him in and get him off in the back of his truck, but he withstood the urge as he slapped his dick against your cheek a few times, before sliding into the wet opening.

He shuddered at the feel of your tongue skimming over his sensitive skin, lingering around the head of his cock before he slid the rest of the way in.

Rafe let his head roll back, eyes falling shut as and mouth agape as you immediately started to bob your head up and down his length, slowly, then gradually faster, more eager.

After giving your throat time to adjust, you managed to part your lips wider, allowing Rafe the space he needed to pull his hips back and thrust into your mouth in a quicker, harsher manner.

Your nose collided with his pelvis each time, and you would’ve lost your balance forever ago if it wasn’t for Rafe’s strong hands on your shoulder, and in your hair.

You could hardly breathe through the brutal pace Rafe was subjecting you to, but you didn’t care about that as much as you cared about continuing to draw out moans and groans from his lips.

The fact that you could make someone so much more affluent than you so weak and at your mercy, brought you a newfound sense of confidence.

And yeah, you felt good.

So good.

Way better than Rafe ever envisioned, and he’d done an extensive amount of imagining when it came to his dad’s assistant.

The oldest Cameron was in heaven at the feel of your warm mouth swallowing his cock so beautifully, without issue. He hated when he had to scold girls for trying to slow down or pull off for air. It was always much easier, more enjoyable for him when they just let him take the reigns, do as he pleased with them and their bodies.

Much like you were right now, letting him fuck your face relentlessly, no mind paid to the lack of oxygen your brain was receiving, or the mess of saliva pooling down your chin and on your thighs, mixing in with the blood you were knelt in.

The entire scene was sinister, but Rafe took delight in the menacing situation, as did you.

Rafe felt a familiar sensation coiling in his stomach, his sign to pull out and move on to the next task at hand.

The sudden emptiness had you frowning, even as you gasped for air to make up for the oxygen you’d been depraved of at the hands of Rafe.

There were crates lining the walls of the box truck, and he grabbed one through his own labored breaths.

You weren’t sure what the idea was when he planted it on the floor in front of you, until Rafe roughly grabbed you by your hair, yanking you to your shaky feet.

He held you in front of him by your hair, his other hand cupping the side of your face as he praised your work.

“You did so good,” His eyes darted wildly across your face as he spoke softly, almost drooling at the sight of your hair and makeup dishevelled, lipstick smeared and mascara running from your teary eyes.

“Good girl.” He reaffirmed, though the way he roughly turned your body away from him had you second guessing your performance.

Rafe urged your body lower, effectively bending you over the wooden crate he’d turned into a makeshift surface.

You wouldn’t get to look at him this time. This first time, because Rafe would indefinitely make sure it wasn’t the last, would be for him. He waited for months, dealing with your constant teasing and looks that he was sure were flirty, he figured he earned the right to have his way with you. He’d make sure you had to wait for things to go your way, the same way you made him wait.

You bit down on your bottom lip, waiting with bated breath for Rafe to tend to the wetness that you were positive soaked your thong by now.

The cool air sent chills up your body as Rafe yanked on your bodysuit, fully exposing you to the elements. You heard the rip of the material as he struggled to pull the sleeves down past your cuffs, but you didn’t care. Not just because you never wore the same costume two years in a row anyway, but because all your brain could conjure at the moment were lewd thoughts about your boss’s son, and wanting to see and feel more of him. You couldn’t care less about the $70 outfit.

Rafe’s eyes almost popped out of the sockets at the sight of your dripping cunt below him. Right in front of him, right there where he could finally touch it.

He used one hand to pull your thong to the side, the other forced two thick fingers into your folds.

“Fuck…” he drawled out, “You’re soaked, so fucking tight…”

You let out a high-pitched moan at the feel of his rough fingers sliding inside of you, the first time you’d felt anything besides a vibrator down there in over a year.

A smile tugged at the corner of the kook’s lips as your legs instantly started shaking at just the two fingers he’d offered you. He couldn’t even imagine what you’d do when he slid his cock inside of you, how hard it would be to stop your legs from shaking then.

He dipped another finger in, picking up the pace and watching the way your hands clutched into fists behind your back, the cuffs preventing you from reaching his body he was sure you were itching to touch.

“You like that?” He rasped, eyes and ears trained on you.

You mewled out in response, wrists straining against the metal around them as you longed to reach out and touch him, any part of him, something to ground you from the pain you felt as his fingers tore into the mess he’d made of your core.

You could feel Rafe’s weight pressing on you as he leaned further down, stopping so his lips just barely brushed your ear.

“Sorry baby…” He said lowly, “No touching this time. Let’s see how well you can take this dick first, hmm? This first round’s only for me.”

He felt the way your chest stopped moving, breath all but lost at the compromising position he had you in.

God, he loved the effect he was having on you.

You whimpered at the realization that Rafe was more concerned with his own pleasure than yours, but part of you took his words in stride, hoping they implied a chance at a second encounter that would be more catered to you.

Rafe thought about slipping in slowly at first, but the stirring in his groin prompted the boy to plunge into you completely, bottoming out on the very first thrust.

The abrupt fullness had your body jolting up, muscles tensed as you cried out his name.

“Shh, sh-shut up, gah, shut up.” He breathed, head falling back as he rutted into you. He was already struggling to form coherent words at the feel of your pussy squeezing so tightly around him, a feeling he’d only been able to dream of before.

“Just lay there and-and shut the fuck up, hmm?” He ordered sternly. His words kept a constant swarm of butterflies fluttering around in your stomach.

But truthfully, Rafe was mumbling to himself more than you. His own words helped him feel a sense of authority and power over you, which he thrived off of, in any situation…but especially in the bedroom.

The stinging of wood splintering into your skin, the cold liquid coating your legs, the stinging of the metal around your wrists, all long forgotten as the feeling of Rafe’s cock forcing itself past your walls triumphed any other sensation. Your breathing was erratic, strained from the way your body was caged between the crate and Rafe’s figure.

Tears were spilling down your face, only adding to the excitement for Rafe. He would carry a torch for the way you were falling apart underneath him, knowing that his cock had reduced you to nothing more than a crying, blabbering, pathetic mess.

“S-shit…so fucking tight,” He could’ve sworn your tight walls were flattening him, his length almost struggling to wedge itself so deep into your core, if it wasn’t for the added vigor behind his thrusts. 

It was everything he’d dreamed of. Being inside of you for the first time was everything he’d fantasized about, and it was enough to have his stomach tightening.

Rafe drew his hips back, pulling out most of the way, admiring the way his cock was completely coated with your sweet juices, before recklessly slamming back into you. You cried out, your own nails digging into the palms of your restrained hands as he adopted a quicker, more aggressive pace, eyes rolling back as he drank in the sounds of your mewling and whimpering beneath him, the feel of your pussy clenching around him. The hold on your hair was joined by a harsh grip on your hip, Rafe roughly squeezing the flesh in the curve of your leg. He could feel himself spiraling towards his release, and he finally peeled his eyes open, fixing them on the sight before him. He didn’t have to imagine this time, he reminded himself.

His fingers in your hair reclined your head back slightly, scratching at your scalp as he shot his load up into you.

Your walls squeezed impossibly tighter around him, milking him dry and only eliciting more groans and curses from the man behind you as he continued fucking his load into you, making sure not a drop was missed.

The feeling of Rafe’s seed spilling into you, the fact that the two of you together, the whole situation was bordering on innapropriate and unprofessional, was enough to send you over the edge, too.

Almost.

But Rafe just happened to unsheath himself at the perfect time, depraving you of the high you’d been chasing.

Rafe was left with a ringing in his ears and stars in his eyes as he emptied into you completely.

You were prepared to sit yourself up when Rafe tugged on your cuffs, until his other hand shot down to your clit, fingering the remnants of cum that dared to slip out of you, back into your folds.

His fingers were almost enough to push you over the edge, but again, he meticulously retracted the digits at the right time to rob you of your release.

“Rafe,” your cry came out as more of a broken whisper when you called out to him.

“Uh uh,” he started as he pulled the tiny lever on the cuffs, releasing your wrists one at a time. “You should be grateful I even fucked you in the first place.”

It was true. He did think you had no room to complain, given the way you’d baited and taunted him for months on end, parading around his dad’s office with your nose up like you were too good for him.

He used a hand on your lower back for leverage as he rose to his feet, at the expense of your ribs digging into the crate.

Finally, you were able to get situated on your feet as well. You used a grip on the crate to hoist yourself up, legs shaky and threatening to buckle beneath you at the task of supporting your weight upright once again.

When you turned around, Rafe’s pants were already fastened as you remained stripped before him.

You took your lip between your teeth at the sight of his muscles flexing as he wrestled his shirt back over his head.

He let out a sigh of relief and satisfaction as the cotton material settled back over his chest.

He wore a smug look as he eyed over your frail, blood-stained body from top to bottom.

“Still need that ride home?”

[diordrysdale]

GILMORE GIRLS 5.04, Tippecanoe and Taylor, Too

[diordrysdale]

back to provide some ✨debauchery ✨

#where’s the news and the media

[diordrysdale]

after dark ⋆ andy barber (part 3)

dark!neighbor!andy barber x camgirl!reader, ft. devin peters x camgirl!reader

word count ⋆ 2.1k

warnings ⋆ smut! minors dni, cheating (laurie is cheating on andy, andy is implied to be cheating/will cheat) reader sends a video where she’s giving devin head, fingering, degradation, squirting, daddy kink, implied murder oop— ft. devin peters: oral sex (m receiving), slight degradation.

authors note ⋆ I HAD TO SWITCH ANDY FROM SOFT!DARK TO JUST DARK!ANDY YALL IN FOR A RIDE I WAS JUST WRITING THIS AND I WENT DOWN A DARK PATH SO HERE IT IS FINALLY PART 3

+ reminder of who devin peters is, he’s chris evans’ character in the movie don’t look up!

don’t forget to give me some love, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.

previous part

shit, shit, shit!

as soon as andy scurried back into his home, he peeled through the curtain of the window near laurie’s favorite sofa— the one she was currently on.

“I need a ride to my yoga class, andy.” she spoke as she typed away on her phone, laughing at the texts she was receiving from a friend.

yoga class, sure.

he watched as you stood in place, dumbfounded before the movie star tugged you back towards the house, practically pawing at your breasts for attention.

you giggled as he kissed and sucked at your neck, shoving him away to play hard to get, took one last glance at mr. barber’s house, and sighed, convincing yourself it was most definitely a coincidence.

andy, on the other hand, was losing his mind.

-

so, you were living next door, what could he do about it? go up to the door and give a polite hello, make small talk and confess how he’s been touching himself to you for the past 4 months?

maybe how he’s dreamt constantly of pounding you into his mattress as you drool on his sheets, neither of you knowing whether you’re begging him to stop or keep ruining your hole.

“…andy! here’s fine!” andy hit the breaks, the wheel’s screech pulling him from his thoughts as laurie opens the door without a simple thank you or goodbye, running up to her friends.

he began to drive off, reaching for his phone, unlocking it and grinning for what he was challenging himself to do.

“hey, SIRI, uh, sex shops near me.”

-

NEXT DAY

tears had dried on your cheeks as you caught your breath, letting your boyfriend tease your lips with the tip of his cock.

“look at you, all hungry for this dick.” he hummed, his free hand holding up your phone, filming your every move.

you said you’d airdrop it to him later, but you had other plans for this home video.

“fuckin’ slut..” you shut your eyes to avoid rolling them, the degradation just didn’t come naturally with him, oh, but with mr. barber.

if your neighbor was indeed your favorite subscriber, he was in for a treat.

“why’s a mr. barber texting you on your site?I thought you didn’t entertain those freaks on your live chat?” devin pulled you from your thoughts when a notification pinged on the top of your screen.

wrapping your lips around his veiny cock, you sucked harshly, distracting him from the text message as he gasped out, hand forcing your head down as he began to fuck your throat in a sloppy manner.

the wet gagging noises sent him over the edge, overflowing your mouth with his sticky load— wasn’t the best taste. although, it still made your mind stray to how mr. barber—

“let me see it.” he groaned, cupping your cheek with a softness you hated.

you couldn’t make up your mind about this guy, no matter how many millions of dollars laid on his dollars

sure, he was an admired actor, celebrity crush to many, and you had him at your beck and call.

but you were insatiable.

you had daydreamed of becoming his girl, riding him in his luxurious cars, and being the pretty little thing on his arm at movie premieres, red carpets, you name it.

but hollywood was ruthless to girl with a job like yours.

maybe starring on the big screen and having paparazzi shadow you wasn’t your thing, but being loved after dark was, and you were okay with that.

opening your mouth, you revealed his load before you swallowed it, glancing up at him for some sort of praise but he just exhaled, sinking into the sofa as he put his softening penis away.

you snatched your forgotten phone from the couch and saved the video before reading the text message, feeling your heart drop to your stomach.

barber543

hello neighbor.

-

andy hid the newly purchased box of sex toy items under the bed, his chest swelled with pride when he imagined how ruined he’d leave you by the end of the night, have you begging for him to stay, to touch your sweet pussy again, and again, til you couldn’t bare another orgasm.

official-kitten

there’s no way it’s you

he chuckled, he could just picture your cute expression of brows furrowed together, biting at your inner cheek.

barber543

come over and find out.

andy was always the type to take charge of a situation, but he was positive you’d be his tonight. and every night after that.

-

swallowing hard at mr. barber’s recent message, you slid your back down against the bathroom wall, thumbs dancing across the screen.

official-kitten

I’m busy daddy

🎥 0:45

your heart pounded in your ears as you linked the video devin filmed of you, and sent it— it was a russian roulette, you had absolutely no clue what he’d say—

barber543

not even a minute?

did he return the favor? or are you just a cocksleeve.

bet he didn’t even touch you

his punctuation made you giggle, but your hand began to slither down beneath your panties, ghosting over your clit.

official-kitten

he didn’t even make me wet :(

barber543

I’m not surprised.

I’m guessing you’re all needy. and pathetic.

official-kitten

don’t be mean :(

your middle finger and ring finger began to rapid circle on your clit, the sight of your hand moving beneath your underwear made your heart race.

barber543

you don’t know half of it, princess.

come over, or I’ll fuck you stupid in front of your friend.

removing your fingers before you came, you breathed heavily, smiling at the texts as you stood up with a rush, exiting the bathroom as you called out for devin who had made himself busy in the kitchen.

“what’s up, babe?” he chewed on a simple ham sandwich, scrolling through his twitter feed, mostly raising his ego with all the complements and praise thrown his way.

“you need to leave, now.” you shoved his beanie into his chest as he frowned, scoffing.

“i need to do my skin-care routine, do my mani-pedi, you know,” you rambled nervously, but he came to be truly understanding, kissing your forehead.

“fine, fine! send me the video, dollface.” he walked out the door, inhaling the fresh boston air, looking around the calm neighborhood til he made eye contact with the man they’d encountered earlier.

andy waved at the celebrity with full intent of fucking you into his mattress, the bedroom floor, the kitchen counter, and laurie’s pitiful garden in the front yard.

“hey, y/n,” devin called over his shoulder, still narrowing his eyes at the floofy haired man, as you waltzed over to him, glancing up at him, “don’t go on stream tonight. got a feeling there’s gonna be some creeps on the live.”

“sure thing, devy,” you stepped on your tippy toes to lay a kiss on the corner of his mouth, “I’ve got other plans.”

-

you applied your gloss, extremely giddy to finally meet the man who had been paying for quite literally everything you could dream of.

you wondered what he did for a living, how he stumbled upon your live stream and if he thought about you daily.

what if he was a psychopath? you had lost count of how many people you had blocked due to their obsession with you, driving you to the point to being constantly paranoid, always glancing over your shoulder and double checking your door at night.

fuck it.

shutting your door on your way out, you fiddled with your fingers, cracking your knuckles which had been a nervous habit of yours.

til someone pulled up to the driveway.

it was a woman, brunette, with a disconsolate look on her face.

of course, he had a wife. why weren’t you surprised? most of the good ones were taken.

“oh! hello..” the woman wiped her drippy nose on her wrist, hugging herself as she stood in front of you, waiting for you to present yourself.

“i’m [y/n], lila’s friend. I’m house-sitting and i just- I can’t seem to, uh…“

“get the washing machine to start? cindy always has that problem, but luckily, my husband andy helps her out. it happens at least every week.” your jaw clenched at the information, feeling yourself turn green with envy, but your heart stopped when the man of the hour stepped out to the driveway, locking eyes with you.

“honey, lila’s friend here needs help with the washer, go.” she sniffled, causing andy to cup her cheek and angle her face up, allowing him to see her bloodshot eyes.

“what happened? where’s jacob, is he okay?” laurie nodded her head, clearing his anxiety a bit til he caught her left hand— ring finger, completely bare.

“we need to talk.” laurie muttered as andy wrinkled his nose at the scent of another man’s cologne on her.

“I’ll just-“

“no!” you and laurie whipped your heads at him, making him breath out a laugh as he reached for your hand— time froze, not just for you.

“I’ll help you first, I just need to get some tools. give her something to drink, laurie.” before you knew it, you began following him and his wife into his home, wondering what scheme he had planned.

he gently closed the door behind you, not missing the chance to place his hand on your lower back, leading you into the kitchen, pouring you a glass of deep red wine, ignoring how his wife had excused herself to the upstairs bathroom.

alas, the two of you were alone.

slowly with a hint of intimidating, he began to corner you against the counter as you look down at your feet with natural submission, making him chuckle and hold your chin between his pointer and thumb.

“wait for me upstairs, second room on the right.” you glanced up at him with a parted jaw, “I want you playing with your pussy, legs spread, only wearing this shirt. go.” his command made you raise an eyebrow.

“you can’t tell me what to do.” your bratty response made him scoff as his hand slipped beneath your pajama shorts, cupping your mound as his middle finger dragged against your clothed slit, making you shiver.

“no? you sure about that?” he smirks at the wet spot on your panties, watching you squirm, in person? fuck, you couldn’t let you go. ever.

“tell daddy what you’re gonna do for him,” he whispers, his pulse accelerating when your trembling hand rose to caress his beard.

“I’m gonna play with my pussy and wait for him. and then, I’m gonna let him do whatever he wants to me,” you whimpered when he pinched at your clit, “let daddy use me and my holes.”

you were a damn menace with your words.

“you’ll be daddy’s cumrag?” he suggested as his hard-on grew against his slacks, compelling him to grind desperately against your stomach.

“yes, please,” you dragged out as looked up at him with lust filled eyes, leaning against him, feeling a bit lightheaded.

“and let me shove my cock in this little pussy when I feel like it?“ pushing aside your panties, his fingers began pistoning past your velvet walls, adoring the immediate debauched look on your face before he kissed your soft lips for the first time.

“anything you want— fuck!”

“beg for your daddy, kitten, beg for daddy to taste your pussy,” the squelching noises, his alluring voice, it was too much.

“fuck! daddy- m’ gonna squirt, ah! pleaseplease-“ he was quick to keep you from falling to your knees, grunting when your legs violently shook, your cunt spurting your juices on his cupped hand.

“my kitten, all mine,” he growled, his pink lips attacking your bare neck, sucking and nipping at your skin as you attempted to even your breath, but you still felt unsatisfied.

you needed to be fucked.

“want your dick, please, please,” you babbled out, your hands moved with a mind of their own, desperately wanting to touch him but he laughed, continuing to rub your slit.

“you’re a little slut, my wife’s in the house! what if she heard you?” he asked with a grin, removing his wet hand and beginning to lead to you out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

“hurts! I need to feel you inside me,” you pawed at his belt, making him sigh in content before he clutches your cheeks in his hand, it smelled of your scent.

“then fucking wait for me upstairs. second room on the left.” he demanded through gritted teeth, watching you scamper what was left of the staircase.

he rushes to the kitchen, grabbing the first knife he could get his hands on and heads back upstairs with an emotionless façade.

he couldn’t have anymore distractions tonight.

his job was to fuck you as many times you begged him to, and claim you as him.

“laurie, I’m ready to talk!” he calls out to his wife for the last time, gripping at what was to become a murder weapon.

well, only if the police found out.

┗━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━┛

a/n; oh y/n, now he’ll never let you go.

#kali writes ! #andy barber #andy barber angst #andy barber smut #andy barber fluff #andy barber x reader smut #andy barber x reader #andy barber x female reader #chris evans #chris evans smut #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x reader #dark!andy barber #dark!andy barber x reader #dark!andy barber x female reader

[diordrysdale]

after dark ⋆ andy barber (part 2)

dark!neighbor!andy barber x camgirl!reader

word count ⋆ 1.1k+

warnings ⋆ smut! minors dni, virtual sex/livestream, cheating, sexual use of a popsicle, age gap (reader in their 20s, andy in his late 40s) daddy kink, masturbation (f), degradation kink, mention of spanking, VERY SLIGHT mention of cnc play (you’ll see).

authors note ⋆ you all will definitely see andy’s dark side next chapter <3

don’t forget to give me some love, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.

PART 1

3 days earlier

“you just need to feed sprinkles three times a day, and that’s pretty much it.”

your best friend, lila, handed you her family’s cat as she rushed to gather more of her belongings and tossed them into her luggage.

“the guest room is all yours, make yourself at home!” you followed behind her as she scrambled down the stairs at the sound of her mother calling out for her.

“if our house is still intact when we come back, you’ll get paid,” lila rolled her eyes at her mother as she hugged you goodbye.

“come on, tony! we’re gonna miss the flight!” the eighteen year old boy waved goodbye to his best friend and next door neighbor, jacob barber.

“keys are on the counter top, help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge. love you, bye!”

present day

andy huffed as he scrubbed at the dishes, listening to his wife chat loudly on the phone while the television was blaring whatever brain-rotting reality show was trending at the moment.

he tilted his wrist to reveal the time on the apple-watch, 7:03p.m.

it was torture having to wait.

“andrew! go water the plants next door, cindy and the kids aren’t home— carol, stop!” laurie continued laughed on the phone with her friends, forcing andy to count to ten before drying his hands, although the simple act gave him a flashback.

sucking on a popsicle in nothing but your light pink lingerie, you told 60.8k of your loyal subscribers how your day went, how you were terrible bored during a job interview and could only picture yourself spreading your legs for the employer, begging him for the job as he slaps your pussy with his rough belt.

“I’m not sure if I got the job, but at least I have all of you,” you lean back into your cloud-shaped, getting comfortable in the bed you got to call yours for two weeks.

barber543 donated $250.00!

barber543: stop pouting, you make me wanna fuck that slutty mouth of yours til you’re begging me not to

your [e/c] eyes lit up at the familiar user, giddiness running through your veins as you hook your panties to the side with one hand.

“barber543, I did promise a surprise, didn’t I?” You whisper as your other hand moved the blueberry-flavored popsicle towards your sex, moving through your folds before tapping your clit.

“you choose what I call you.” sliding the cold treat inside your cunt, you whimpered at the feeling, heart racing at the notifications of subscribers screen-recording.

barber543: greedy little girl, say mr. barber

“m-mr. barber,” andy shuddered at your breathy words, “don’t fuck me with the popsicle, please.”

barber543: you better fucking take it if you want my cock, you don’t deserve it

“ah- pleaseplease, ‘s too cold-“ your words contrast against how quick you began fucking your cunt with the popsicle, clenching it around it so delicately.

barber543: harder.

“mr. barber, m’ gonna cum, feels too good-“ you choked on your words as your free hand zeroed relentlessly on your numbing clit, back arching as your hand flew out to clutch your bedsheet, leaving half of the blueberry treat in your pulsing cunt.

barber543: wish I could bend you over and slap your ass raw for cumming without my permission.

“don’t punish me, daddy,” your fucked out glance was priceless, removing the popsicle from your center and licked the tip with a breathless giggle.

andy shook his head with a idiotic grin as if he actually was face to face with the angel that you were— or pretended to be.

andy wiped his cum-tainted hand on spare napkin, before something caught his eye.

kneelforhansen donated $3000.00!

kneelforhansen: I’d love to have you for myself. direct message me if you’re interested, kitten.

andy despised the glimmer in your eyes— a look he wanted to believe only belonged to him.

“oh my, thank you,” andy could tell your soft voice was entirely genuine, and he was about to raise the amount, but he remembered than any purchased higher than a thousand would send an alert to his and laurie’s joint email account.

“you’ve made my night, mister.”

andy scowled at the memory— even if a billion people watched your stream, he liked to think you two were simply having a skype-sex session or whatever the younger people used now for video chatting.

facetime?

“hold on- andrew! the plants!” laurie shrilled, waving her hands as she pressed her phone between her ear and her shoulder.

“fucking hell.” andy mumbled, slamming a drawer into place as he made his way out of the house, glancing towards his right and analyzed the garden.

suddenly, he saw purple lights go on in one of the rooms on the second floor.

if cindy’s daughter is still home, why is he doing their chores?

he shoved his hands into his jeans, opting not to water their stupid roses and stupid hortensias and stupid—

his childish thoughts were interrupted by a sweet maserati revving carelessly into the driveway.

he’d be humiliated to admit his jaw dropped at the sight of a celebrity walking about 10 feet away.

devin peters, movie star.

“I’m outside, baby.” he sang into his phone, most likely sending a voice chat as he leaned against the goddess of a car.

the front door swung open, revealing a girl with nothing but a oversized shirt and pink panties, [h/c] hair and beaming [e/c] andy couldn’t mix up.

there was no way.

“there she is.” devin reached out his arms, engulfing you in a needy hug, guiding your legs around his narrow waist.

no. no.

“my pretty girl. how’s my kitten been?” the movie star began walking blindly to the house, mind racing on how many ways he could utterly destroy you.

“oh, crap, that’s lila’s neighbor. hold on,” you wiggled yourself away, shyly making your way towards the older man who was three seconds away from passing out from shock.

“im sure Cindy must’ve told you to take care of these flowers, but I’m house-sitting for a couple weeks. I can manage, mister…”

“barber. mr. barber.”

your eyes widen as your head spun for a split second due to the unquestionable coincidence.

no way.

┗━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━┛

a/n; this is my multiverse: lloyd hansen, andy barber & devin peters

(devin peters is chris evans’ cameo character in the movie don’t look up, just a reminder :)

#after dark part 3 is coming

[diordrysdale]

after dark ⋆ andy barber

dark!neighbor!andy barber x camgirl!reader

word count ⋆ 980

warnings ⋆ smut! minors dni, masturbation (m&f), virtual sex/livestream, use of sex toys, cheating? (on Andy’s behalf and a bit from laurie’s), age gap (reader in their 20s, andy in his late 40s), degradation, sir kink, daddy kink.

authors note ⋆ I’m very very excited for this au, andy will be dark but not in this first part, and they aren’t neighbors yet but they will be in the next part !!

don’t forget to give me some love, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.

PART 2

11:00p.m. on the dot.

Andy’s phone buzzed on his nightstand, alerting him of your presence online.

kitten is going live now!

a smile inevitably spreading across his pink lips as he reached for his phone and sat up in his empty bed, wondering for a split second if laurie was actually with her friends at this hour.

Keep reading

#after dark part 3 is coming

[diordrysdale]

It’s done. After dark part 3 goes up tomorrow.

Soft!dark!andy is now dark!andy.

after dark part 3 is almost done it’ll be up either tonight or tomorrow

[diordrysdale]

after dark part 3 is almost done it’ll be up either tonight or tomorrow

#i still need to do the word count AND hopefully the gradient title because YES #why is sneaking around with an older man so fucking hot

[diordrysdale]

Me: constantly checks you page for part 3 of after dark.

No rush! But it was such a good story you have a home girl 👏🏻 WAITING 👏🏻 ON 👏🏻 IT 👏🏻 for the first time in my LIFE I’m waiting on a fanfic 💀

so good, you did an amazing job !!! Cant wait :’)

IM SO HAPPY YOU LIKED IT SO MUCH ILY THANKS FOR READING AND STAYING TUNED

part 3 is coming next week 😌 <333

#kali responds #time for dark!andy to take what’s his

[diordrysdale]

The course of nature (Negan x Fem!Reader)

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Negan x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of Negan’s brutality, cursing, implied coercion and kidnapping, smut, breeding kink, Negan’s filthy mouth, implied reader x daryl, forced breeding, unprotected sex, mentons of polygamy, (c’mon guys, everything related to Negan in the Sanctuary) might miss some warnings. 

+18 MINORS DNI

TWD Era: Alexandria, Negan Era, (season 7) 

Notes: Seeing Negan saying, “Oh my, look at this little Angel!” and grabbing Judith from her crib did something to me, and here it is 

He took a long sigh as he watched Alexandria disappear in the rearview mirror. He didn’t know why, he didn’t understand it,  but Negan felt something bitter inside of him… he had a tangy flavor in his mouth even though he still had the taste of the lemonade that Olivia woman made for him. He contemplated the reason behind his bitterness… jealousy? And he came to the conclusion that under all the mockery that subdued Carl to… about killing him and Rick and moving into the suburbs, having his “summer home” there… There was some truth about it, a dark, deep desire.

The pretty house in the suburbs, drinking lemonade on the porch rocking in a comfortable chair, children laughing and running around… and a baby, his baby. For a second he let his mind wander, thinking it was his baby he was cuddling against his chest, dark locks, big chestnut eyes just like his looking up at him from the comfort of his chest… Oh my, it was a nice dream… a dream he could make happen he only needed to take care of Rick, Carl, and… well…

He had 6 wives, he had to replace some of them along the way, the last one he lost had to be replaced by you. Oh how much he enjoyed the look of desperation on Rick's face when he made clear that he would take everything and everyone he liked, and his gloved finger pointed at you. 

Especially Daryl, that deranged maniac, his future soldier, the way he leaped and came at him like a beast ready to rip his yugular, only stopping when he made Arat point a gun to your pretty little head. Oh how he enjoyed that. 

He wondered if you were the one that warmed his bed every night and warmed his cock every mornin’. He also wondered if that is what made it so easy for you to comply with him. 

“Become my wife or I’ll go back to that little town of yours and bash little Daryl’s head in and I’ll rub your face in his brains” It went something like that. You did shed a few tears the first time he had you, but oh how you squeezed him inside your tight walls when he made you cum again and again in his big fat cock. He made it up to you, he made sure of it. He took his time breaking you in until you were looking back at him not with fear or hate but with a complacent look on your beautiful eyes and a shy smile on your delicious lips. He had even disregarded his other wifes, sharing his bed only with you. Because when he was fucking you he was fucking with Prick-Rick, and with Shit-head-Daryl and because fucking the enemy had always been a huge turn on for him. 

With his wives he constantly used protection, or made sure that they took contraceptive drugs, or he used the old method of pulling out, it was actually a miracle that he hadn't knocked someone up yet. 

But now he found himself in the want for it… the desire… he couldn’t quite pinpointed it, it was a need so primal inside of him…

Having Judith in his arms changed something inside of him. And in his mind everything became clearer when he revived a conversation he had had with his sweet Lucille, a conversation they held about having kids… He wanted a kid with her so badly… But she was gone

He stood in the doorframe of the lounge, looking at his wives. He came in so silently they didn’t notice him standing there, so he watched every single one of them. Who could be the one to carry his litter? he wondered

Amber? God no, she would drown that poor babe in booze inside of her. Tanya? poor thing, she wasn’t his favorite, far from it, he only married her to make someone fall in line. Who was that dark haired one? He couldn't quite remember. 

He regretted Sherry to be gone, gods she was a beauty, his favorite, not very smart, but enough smart to survive in this world 

Frankie? perhaps? She was a good candidate. She was the only one who found him staring and gave him a sweet little smile. She was smoking hot 

But he kept walking, to reach the room you cornered yourself in. To his surprise it was open, he found you crossed legged on the bed, reading a book. You weren’t wearing any of the nice black dresses he lent you, no, you were insistent on wearing those run down jeans and flannel, the ones you were wearing the day he grabbed you. He had them washed and all, but still… 

“Killed any of my family members today?” you ask bitterly. Of course you noticed him without even looking, you were beyond comprehension for him 

“Not yet… but there's plenty of day left” he mocked, well he did kill that traitor, but he didn’t count, he thought, he did however take only 25% of what he said he was going to take from your group. Everything inside of his head today was you. That’s when you looked up to him with a frown on your beautiful face.

It was you

You were hot as hell, smart as his best man, and he has seen you taking walkers one by one with that ax so beautifully, almost like you were dancing. You got the looks, the brains, and the strength, bonus points for being part of Prick-Rick’s little possie

“I’m so stressed…” he whined with a smirk, “I need something, someone to relieve it…”, he knew you knew what that meant, and he chuckled when you raised your face to look at him with a tired look on your face but smiling widely

“You are a horndog” you mocked, and he nodded slowly, with smirk on his face 

Even if the beginning of your “relationship” had a rocky start, you enjoyed fucking him as much as he enjoyed fucking you. leaving behind the coercion this became like a treat, something enjoyable for the two of you. You weren’t afraid to ask things of him, and he wasn’t against trying new things, so you begun to have a strange friends with benefits kind of arrangement, where the sex became so fucking hot for the both of you, and the pillow talk afterwards became something as enjoyable as the multiple orgasms he took from you each round. 

“I can’t marry you” you answered, but before he could threaten you again you explain, “but I can be your mistress” you offered, at first he seemed offended by what you implied, but when he saw you were serious, his frown turned into an amused grin

“My mistress?”

“See, it’s like being your friend…” you explain, “you come to me, pamper me, I screw you good, you talk to me about your problems and then you leave” 

“So what’s the difference between becoming my wife?” he asked then

“Just the title” being someone’s wife meant something to you, it was too important, too permanent, so you hoped he indulged you, “you have wives, you don’t have mistresses” you turn this into making him think it was about some childish jealousy. So you felt relieved when he smiled wickedly

“Oh I see, you are looking for exclusivity” he teased, and you congratulated yourself for the sheepishly smile and the lower of your eyesight that made him believe he had nailed his suspicion

He let you guide him towards his room, you already knew he preferred to fuck you in his huge bed and silky sheets

Even if at first this man scared the living shit out of you, and you know he was perfectly capable of making good on his threats and killing your family… despite all of that… he was an amazing lover. He fucked you so good it made you shake on his hold, and in your head you justified it, “if you fuck him good he is going to take off the heat on your loved ones” he was going to leave them alone if you pleased him.

His greedy hands were on you in a second, the gloved one leaving goosebumps in your skin, he got rid of your flannel and then admired your chest clad in lingerie. He got rid of your jeans and shoes, to leave you only in underwear. With those out of the way he let you push him back into the bed. His signature bat was forgotten on the floor, just like his leather jacket, he was only in his simple cotton white t-shirt and jeans.. 

You managed to straddle him, loving the way he would fight you just enough for you to realize he was the one in control, but relenting after a little while, everything with Negan was like that. you moaned when you felt the roughness of his denim against the soft skin of the inside of your thighs, bucking your hips just a little bit to enjoy the friction. He grunted under you, with that big smiles of him, looking at you with big shiny eyes

“Fuck you are beautiful” he grunted, and you felt your cheeks heated, you accomodated yourself down his legs, so you’d have the space to remove his jeans just enough so you’d release his lenght, you leaned in, wanting to taste him, wanting to choke on his thick cock, but he stopped you

“Fuck I need to bury myself in that pussy” he demanded, grabbing you by the neck and make you rose yourself up until you were face to face. You only moaned, “you ready baby?” he asked teasingly. His hand sneaking down your body until his fingers teased your entrance, making you moan when he found you embarrassingly wet, dripping almost. He chuckled darkly, giving you that look again

“Fuck” he grunted, “you are soaking wet” he only moved the g tring he made you wear aside, an easy acces, he seemed to be in a hurry, he wanted you now, fast. 

“For you” you admitted, leaning down to catch his mouth on yours, you kissed him roughly, with need, and he answered just the same, wanting to devour you. He accommodated you on top of him and you let him adjust you and him until the tip of his cock was placed in your entrance, and you did the rest, lowering your hips, impaling yourself on him. 

The stretch still burned, but you would be lying if you say you didn’t just loved the way it felt, his thick length opening you up for him, it was always a tight fit

“Jeesus FUCK” he almost yelled, making you sneak a giggle between your wanting moans. He was so deep inside you you could feel him on your belly. It wasn't long before he playfully slapped your ass, encouraging you to ride him, and you started a soft but decisive sway, it was slow but determined, feeling every ridge and vein on his cock inside your tight walls. 

“Mmmm Negan”, you moaned, snapping your hips back and forth. His hands grabbed your tits, squeezing them over the transparent fabric of your bra

“Fuck I love it when you moan my name” he graoned, his hands firmly on your hips, helping you set the unforgiving pace, “You are so hot” it was unusual for him to compliment you that much, so you just ignored it, he probably didn’t mean it. He had six wives, so you didn’t tend to take anything he told you seriously. So you just enjoyed riding him, building your own orgasm, it came slowly, like strong waves crushing on the shore, making your eyes roll to the back of your head as your hands grabbed the white t shirt he was wearing tightly, threatening to rip it off of him

“Damn girl” he grunted, “Are you using me to get off? that’s how it feels like” you only giggled, riding your climax slowly, feeling incredibly sensitive.

But that wasn’t in Negan's plans….

He grabbed you by the hips, leaning up so fast you didn’t know what was happening until your back touched the mattress, he had turned you over to regain his full control. You didn't have time to ponder, he started railing you rougher than before, the metal head of the bed banged against the concrete wall. Your hand traveled to his back,  your nails sinking into his skin, wanting to have something to hold on to. He slammed his hips into your roughly, hearing like he was applauding, his skin against yours.

“Negan,'' you called, slowing down on your climax, but he is still thrusting against you, grunting like a wounded animal. He didn’t pay attention to you, too focused on chasing his own release. You slapped his shoulder, like asking for a timeout, and just then he looked down at you, smirking

“What is it?” he asked

“You are not wearing a condom, you need to pull out” you whined. He only smirked, chuckling darkly in your ear making the little hairs at the back of your head stand up. He didn’t stop, in fact, he fucked you ever rougher, making you whine, your eyes rolling tot he back of your head at the hardness of his thrusts, and in a second, you forgot all about protection, you only cared to reach that second orgasm before he finished

“Oh fuck” you moaned, scratching his back with your nails, your legs chained around his hips, encouraging him. With one graze of the tip of his cock in your special spot did the trick, you cum, hard, your walls strangled his length, making him grunt, stilling deep inside of you, filling you up nicely with his cum. 

He dropped his weight on top of you, his heavy breathing on your neck, he hugged you tightly against him, still inside of you, you both regained your breaths slowly. You caressed his sweaty back and he seemed to purr in your ear

“Fuck you are so sweet baby” he murmured. One of the things you enjoyed most about him was that he was a cuddler, he loved the contact after sex. He dropped lazy kisses along your jaw and cheek,  nuzzling the skin with his nose

“Negan” you whispered, wanting to drift to sleep even though it was still a gray light outside

“You ok?” he asked against your ear, you just nodded, “That was intense” 

“It was amazing,” you whispered. He slowly took himself off of you. You winced when you felt his cock slip off of you, his cum trickling down your thighs. The sensation didn’t last long, he was there, grabbing you and encouraging you to sneak under the covers. He was still dressed, but that didn’t matter, he spooned you, making you feel safe and comfortable between his strong arms. He kissed the top of your head and led you to a dreamless sleep. 

“Negan…” he mumbled, oh how much he loved the fear he inspired in his… subjects

“Hey doc” he followed with his eyes the young woman that left the consult bowing her head in his direction. He waited until she completely left the medical room and closed the door behind her, “I’m glad you are finding yourself at home” he smiled at him

“I’m glad I’m here, you know I’m an obstetrician and this girls… need help”

“I’m happy to know saviors are reproducing” he said, genuinely pleased, “speaking of which” the doctor then eyed him suspiciously, “One of my wives, but she’ll tell you otherwise… is going to come here, asking you for a day-after pill” he said slowly and in a dangerous whisper, not losing for a second his intimidating eye contact

“Ok…” he muttered

“You are going to give her a fake” he said gravelly

“I don’t understand…she is going to ask for a contraceptive pill, and you want me to give her a placebo? a fake?”

“See, doc? you are smart” he chuckled, placing his hand on the man’s shoulder and squeezing dangerously

“You want her to get pregnant?” Negan gave him a serious look, the one that made the doc shiver

“Do you get my meaning?” he asked then, he nodded

“Yes Sir” he then smiled, pleased

“If you give her the real deal, I will know” he muttered, swinging Lucille until she perched on his shoulder 

“Ok Sir” he mumbled, nodding

“We need to repopulate the earth” he said matter-of-factly, “That is the course of nature after all”

#negan smut #the walking dead #FUCCCCCK #me when negan: 🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐

[diordrysdale]

are you planning an after dark part three? the second part was so good!

THANK YOU AND YESSS!!

I’m almost done writing part 3, and spoiler alert, andy has his way with y/n 😌

#kali responds #I just want the smut in this third part to be FILTHY