yukinagato2012

[yukinagato2012]

Team Steve, until he lost his temper, but Ari is also a douche so none of them until Steve got his shit together

I think his mood changed all of a sudden when he saw his sister. I think Ari is the one who caused her to be bullied at school that she didn't want to go to school anymore either that or Ari broke her heart or both.

Wanda is bad friend for leaving MC in the frat party alone and ignoring her during the basketball practice just so she can be with her boyfriend Curtis

I think the rift between Ari and Steve started with Ari bullying and/or breaking his sister's heart and want to take revenge by getting on with MC that's why he is so desperate to get her and date her and then screwed up his plan when he saw his sister and wanted to go straight into his revenge. Maybe his revenge may also be due to the humiliation he experienced when he lost to Ari when he got a yellow card because of Ari goading him and Curtis continuously injuring his friends.

I'm so excited with what will happen to them. It's a great read, I love the drama surrounding Ari, MC, and Sharon, adding in Curtis and Wanda into that mix and conflict with Steve. I can't wait to read more

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

[yukinagato2012]

Yes, finally Sammy is what I have been waiting for to connect the pieces for Dean so he can finally get out of his head and know that Y/N needs him and that in fact she's only a victim of their father. Sammy is so smart

The King's Blessing | 18+ | Chapter Thirteen

Summary: Prince Dean and Y/N have been betrothed since birth. Desperately in love, neither can wait to make it official once Y/N finally becomes a woman. But for some reason, womanhood is taking its time finding her. The day eventually comes, but it’s not quite the fairytale Y/N had been sold.  

Chapter Tags: smut, handjob, blowjob, p in v, prosititution, angst, mentions of forced marriage, mentions of murder

Chapter WC: 2109

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SIX MONTHS LATER

Dean’s POV

“Is that okay?” 

Dean’s head tips back into the pillow further, his eyes fluttering closed as he begins balling the bedsheets in his fists beneath him.  

“So good, my love,” he hums, smiling softly. 

She giggles, her hand continuing to move up and down his hard shaft, her thumb dragging over the tip of his cock and making it throb in her hand. 

“Holy fuck,” he groans, his eyes shooting open and staring up at the ceiling. 

The nails on her free hand softly drag down his thigh, making Dean tense his muscles, looking down at the lump under the bedsheets where she’s hidden herself. He reaches beneath the sheets with one hand, seeking out her soft hair as he plays with it between his fingers, and she giggles again, her hot breath landing on his inner thigh. 

“Would you like me to use my mouth, your highness?” she purrs, pressing her wet lips to his skin to end her sentence. 

“You know I would,” he chuckles, squeezing the hair of hers in his grasp, guiding her head closer to his crotch. 

As soon as he feels her hot breath on his cock he stops, and lets her take it from there, feeling his cock throbbing in anticipation for what’s to come. But she’s a tease, giggling to herself because she knows what she’s doing as she lowers her head a little more and teases his balls with her tongue for a moment or two, before ever so slowly starting to lick from the root right up to the tip. Once she gets there she wraps her lips around him, beginning to suck gently on the spongy tip, her tongue swirling around expertly, like she’s done this a hundred times before. Dean hopes that she does it a hundred times more and only for him. 

“Fuck, my love, you feel so good,” he hums, his eyes fluttering closed once again. “I’m so glad we finally get to do this.” 

She hums around his length, taking him a little deeper, gagging slightly but not withdrawing. She’s always been eager to make him happy, and Dean had never considered how that might extend to the bedroom. He might be the luckiest man alive. 

“Do you want to fuck me, your highness?” she hums as she pulls back, her hand once again working up and down his shaft. 

“Yes,” he breathes out, his voice strained and somewhat distant. His mind is floating away now, into the bliss of being with his beloved like this, and he wonders why he ever wasted his time with whores when he should’ve just waited for this.

Once again, the prince tips his head back, his eyes closed tight as he feels Y/N climb up his body, straddling his waist as she hovers over him. Instinctively, Dean’s hands brush up her thighs, beginning to squeeze as he waits for her to lower herself down. It feels like time has stopped as he waits and waits and waits, but finally he feels himself pressing against her entrance, and then she slowly slides herself down, encasing him in warm, wet flesh that’s so tight it’s gripping him like a vice. Once she’s fully seated he feels her hands press down on his chest, and his hands travel further up her thighs to grab her hips and aid her movement, back and forth to begin with, feeling her loosen up enough to let him in comfortably. She moans and gasps as she adjusts to him, starting to slowly lift and drop herself up and down.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Dean lets slip, his hands squeezing her hips harder.

“Who’s Y/N?” 

Dean’s eyes shoot open and he feels like he’s only just opening them for the first time. The sunlight is shining through the windows when he could’ve sworn it was nighttime, and these aren’t his sleeping chambers. He glances around himself to remember where he is and lets out a breath. 

“Wait, isn’t she the queen of Lawrence?” the blonde pries, stopping her actions and just sitting there in his lap blinking at him. 

Dean’s hazy memory slowly returns to him as he remembers the blonde from the night before, and starts to put the puzzle pieces together. 

“What?” he questions, “no, not her,” he scoffs. “I thought that was your name?” he frowns, swallowing hard because he knows that’s a really shitty move.

But the whore still sitting on his cock doesn’t seem insulted – thank god – and chuckles softly. 

“No, your highness,” she replies, “I don’t think you ever asked for it.”

“Oh.” 

She chuckles softly once again, placing her hands on his chest once again and wiggling her hips slightly, causing Dean to moan involuntarily. 

“But you can call me Y/N if you want to,” she smirks down at him. “I’ll be anyone for the right price, your highness.” 

Dean forces a laugh and grabs the girl’s waist, intending on encouraging her off of him, but when she wiggles her hips again, he pauses, not sure he’s ready to end this quite so soon after all. The blonde might not be Y/N, but they’re never going to be Y/N, and Dean had to accept that fact six months ago when his betrothed married his father and became his new mother; queen. 

Dean tries to not let his mind wander too far down that path, or he won’t be able to keep this girl entertained for very long, but just as he’s about to get his head back in the game and get his gold’s worth out of her, his chamber doors burst open unannounced. 

Dean’s quick to shove the blonde out of his lap, sitting up to see who the hell has the guts to barge in on a prince in his own chambers; not even his grandparents, the lord and lady of this land, would think of doing such a thing. 

“There you are.” 

Dean frowns slightly, realising his eyes hadn’t quite finished adjusting to being awake until the intruder finally comes into focus. 

“Sammy?” 

“What the hell are you doing here, Sam?” Dean grunts as soon as the blonde has left with enough gold to keep her talented mouth shut about him calling her the wrong fucking name. 

“What am I doing here?” Sam repeats. “What the hell are you doing here, Dean?” 

Dean rolls his eyes at his brother’s dramatic flare and heads towards the wine, realising that his decanter is almost empty. He huffs, but pours what’s left into a glass.

“Do you have any idea what’s been going on at home since you left?” Sam presses.

“Our mother died, and our father married Y/N… think that about covers it,” Dean replies flatly, turning around to give his brother a sarcastic smile. “Why’d you think I’m here? I didn’t wanna stick around for that shit show.” 

Dean scoffs to hide just how much those words actually hurt, and drinks some more wine, hoping that dulls the pain like it used to. But over the months it’s dulled the pain less and less.

“It’s been six months, Dean,” Sam reminds him. 

“Yep, I settled quite nicely here. Enjoying the scenery, making the most of the culture,” he smirks, flashing his brother a wink.

“Dean, Lawrence needs you,” Sam pleads. “Now mother’s gone… father’s…” 

“Fucking my betrothed?” Dean fills in for him. “Newsflash, Sammy, he was doing that before they got married. Fucked her the night our own mother died, did you know that?” 

Sam frowns, licking his lips slightly. “Why didn’t you do something? She was your betrothed.” 

“Why? Because he’s the fucking king.” 

Sam purses his lips, seemingly unable to argue back about that, and Dean licks his lips, turning his back on his brother once again to look out of the window. 

“Did you know that father was going to marry Y/N? Is that why you left before the wedding?” 

Dean takes a deep breath, feeling his throat close up slightly at the very memory. 

“I was with Y/N in her chambers when she was summoned to meet with father,” Dean starts to explain. “After a while I let curiosity get the better of me and found myself outside his door. I didn’t hear much, but I heard Y/N offer herself to him, and he accepted. I didn’t stick around, went back to my room, and drank a lot of wine. Father turned up a couple of hours later maybe, he was upset and he told me about mother dying. Started talking about needing another queen, I wondered if that’s why Y/N went to his chambers, and father said…” Dean trails off, finishing the last of his wine before he can continue. “Told me she was eager to accept his proposal. I knew someone needed to inform mother’s parents about her death, so I came to Campbell. I didn’t want to stick around and see it, you know?” Dean asks. “Laugh all you want, Sammy, but I truly loved Y/N.” 

“Why would I laugh at that?” Sam asks sincerely, and then Dean senses him step up to stand alongside his brother. 

“Because it was foolish of me to ever think that Y/N could feel the same way. Clearly all she cared about was the crown.” Dean scoffs at his own words and looks down into his empty glass, wishing there was more inside.

“Dean…” Sam starts, sighing. “She did love you, she still does.” Dean laughs humourlessly at his brother’s words, but it doesn’t discourage his brother from continuing. “She’s miserable. She was miserable on her wedding day and she’s miserable now. When we’re alone she asks about you. Father hasn’t told her where you’ve gone. If anything, it seems like he’s told her you left because you didn’t want to marry her anymore.” 

Dean doesn’t say anything, unable to deny that it does sound like their father, and Dean wouldn’t put it past the king to lie like that if it gets him what he wants. 

“Do you think he lied about Y/N being eager to marry him?” Dean wonders, though now he’s saying it out loud, he realises how stupid he’s been for all these months. 

He may have felt like he didn’t know Y/N, but he knows her enough to know that being queen was never what was important to her. Obeying God, and being a good, honest wife and woman of the kingdom was what was important to her. But she was always naive and gullible, and his father would’ve taken full advantage of that, no doubt. 

Sam doesn’t reply, like he knows that the answer is completely obvious, and Dean mentally curses himself for wasting so much of his time here hating Y/N and punishing her for what she’s done, when she’s just another of his father’s victims. He left because he couldn’t bear the thought of seeing Y/N with his father, but he realises now how incredibly selfish that was, and how he left Y/N behind to deal with that without him. Sure, there wasn’t much he could do about it, but he could’ve at least shown her that she still had his support, even if it was from afar. John wanted him to leave, and he gave his father exactly what he wanted. 

“She’s not pregnant yet,” Sam speaks up again. “Father’s getting rather impatient.” 

“He’s trying to get her pregnant?” Dean asks, the thought having not even crossed his mind. He’d naively assumed that as he and Sam were adults now, that John would have considered his child bearing days to be over.

“Of course he is,” Sam scoffs. “You know why.” 

Dean frowns, shaking his head. 

“Dean, for as long as she doesn’t bear any children, she’ll be eligible to become someone else’s queen should something happen to him,” Sam points out. 

Dean frowns, and then he realises just what Sam’s telling him. “Someone like me. I could still make her my queen.” 

Sam nods softly. “If something were to happen to father,” Sam repeats more slowly. 

Dean finally realises what his brother is implying and swallows hard. “I don’t… I don’t think I can do that. He’s not a good man but he’s still our father, Sam.” 

“I know… but there’s something else I think you should know,” Sam tells him, his words a little more sombre now. Dean frowns, turning his body to fully face his brother as he waits. “I think he might’ve killed mother, and I’m worried Y/N will be next.”

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[yukinagato2012]

Oh so that's what happened why Dean's nowhere to be found during the wedding, now I get it, maybe someone could tell how Y/N really felt, how she was blindsided by the King

The King's Blessing | 18+ | Chapter Twelve

Summary: Prince Dean and Y/N have been betrothed since birth. Desperately in love, neither can wait to make it official once Y/N finally becomes a woman. But for some reason, womanhood is taking its time finding her. The day eventually comes, but it’s not quite the fairytale Y/N had been sold.  

Chapter Tags: drinking, mentions of prostitution, major angst, mentions of death, mentions of cheating

Chapter WC: 2471

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Dean’s POV

Dean’s head is foggy as he tries to blink his eyes open. But his head is pounding, and everything sounds so loud. Even the rustle of the bedsheets and the very distant bustle of people in the streets below are too loud for the prince. He groans as he tries to sit up, but immediately abandons that pursuit and lays back down, covering his eyes with his arm to block out the light. He should probably do something today that doesn't involve drinking his way through half of Campbell’s alcohol collection. But drinking is the only thing that numbs the pain and stops him thinking about that night a week ago, the eve of his wedding. 

“You should go,” Y/N sighs, biting her bottom lip, looking up at him through her lashes. 

“But I don’t want to,” Dean tells her, frowning slightly and making her giggle. 

“You shouldn’t be here, Dean, it’s the eve of our wedding,” she reminds him. 

Dean rolls his eyes and chuckles. “Alright, fine, I’ll go,” he relents. “But not before I get a kiss from the Princess of Elming.” 

Y/N rolls her eyes in mock annoyance, but Dean can tell she’s secretly happy with the condition of his leaving, and steps forward. 

“If God punishes us for this, I’m blaming you,” she tells him, glaring at him playfully. 

“Nah, me and the Lord are good, he likes me,” Dean teases, reaching out and pulling her close. 

He leans down and presses his lips to hers, and she kisses back, relaxing into the kiss immediately, lifting her arms and wrapping them around his neck. Dean’s arms wind around her body, keeping her as close as he can get her. 

As they pull apart, Y/N presses her forehead to his, and she takes a deep breath. Dean smiles softly to himself, hardly able to believe his luck that he gets to marry this girl tomorrow. Her kisses still send pulses through his veins and make his stomach twist and turn and flutter. He’ll never admit that, of course; men – especially princes – aren’t supposed to feel those sorts of things. And if they do, he’s never heard one speak of it out loud. 

“I cannot wait until you’re my wife,” he tells her quietly, blushing at his own admission. “And  definitely can’t wait for tomorrow night.” 

“Why?” Y/N asks, genuinely curious. 

Dean frowns for a second and then smirks a little. “When we finally get to… consummate the marriage,” he offers. 

“Oh,” Y/N replies as she steps back out of his embrace. “Of course.” 

“What’s wrong?” Dean asks, frowning. “You were excited for that before,” he reminds her, trying to step closer to her once more. “You don’t want to lay with me?” 

“You’ll be my husband, of course I’ll lay with you, it’ll be my duty as your wife,” she tells him. 

“But do you want to?” Dean prompts, getting more and more concerned. 

“I want to be the best wife to you, Dean,” she tells him, avoiding a direct reply. 

“Y/N, answer my question,” he insists. 

Y/N hugs herself, looking around her chambers, and then starts to worry her bottom lip, and Dean can see that she’s a little nervous about something. He watches her head over to the wine in the corner of her room, and Dean realises he’s never known Y/N to willingly choose to drink wine unless served it or invited to drink it by someone else. But she pours herself a glass and takes a sip. 

“What if it hurts?” she wonders, looking down at her glass and nowhere near him. “What if it was as awful as with the king?” 

“Hey, my love,” Dean rushes to her side, reaching out to hold her arm. “It’ll be nothing like that day, I promise,” he reassures her, “we’ll go slow, and I’ll be careful, and if it’s too painful, we can stop.” 

“What if I can never service you in the way a wife should?” she asks, looking up at him with tears in her eyes. “What if I can’t do it and you grow tired of me and you find someone else to love, what if I can’t bear your children because of it?” 

“We’ll work it out,” Dean insists. “And I could never grow tired of you, Y/N.” Y/N looks away, the tears now trickling down her cheeks. “I love you more and more each day, and sure… I’m excited to finally lay with you, but only because I want to share that connection with you, I want to finally experience it the way God intended it to be.” 

“Do you think I’ll be better with you?” she asks. “Do you think God was punishing me for lying with a man who was not my husband by making it hurt like that?” 

“Who knows what God does,” Dean scoffs, making her giggle slightly as well. “But he can’t be all that mad, because he is still intending us to be together, and there’s no better blessing than that.” 

Y/N grins widely, her tears now gone and she nods her head. “One more kiss before I’m your wife?” she suggests, “then you really should leave my chambers, Prince Dean, I need sleep to make sure I’m beautiful for tomorrow.” 

“You’re beautiful enough,” Dean insists, “but I can’t say no to one more kiss.” 

Before their lips can touch once more, there’s a knock at Y/N’s chamber doors, and she looks over at him with wide, fearful eyes, before frantically looking around the room for a place for Dean to hide. 

“What’s the matter?” Dean chuckles softly to himself at the pure panic on his beloved’s face. 

“You’re not supposed to be in here,” she reminds him, continuing to look around. 

Dean decides to put her out of her frenzy, and figures that hiding the other side of her bed will suffice. As soon as he settles into place, Y/N clears her throat and calls for whoever is on the other side to enter. 

“Your highness,” one of the chambermaids speaks up. “The king has requested your presence in his chambers.” 

“Tonight?” Y/N asks, a surprised tone in her voice. Dean frowns to himself, staring at a singular spot on the floor he’s laying on. 

“Right away, your highness.” 

“Okay, can you fetch me a dress to wear? I can’t see him in these clothes,” Y/N replies simply. 

“Of course, my lady, right away.” 

The door closes, and Dean peers over the bed to see the coast is clear.

“Why does father want to see you at this late hour?” Dean wonders out loud. 

“I don’t know, but I guess I’ll find out. You should leave,” she tells him, suddenly a lot more withdrawn than she had been. 

“Sure,” Dean replies dejectedly. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, at the altar.” 

“Okay,” she nods, turning away from him and heading towards the wine once more.

Dean watches her for a moment, and then sighs, turning and leaving her chambers before it’s too late. 

Dean’s too nervous to sleep. He paces his chambers with a glass of wine, thinking about why the king wishes to meet with his beloved at such a late hour, and in his own chambers. And every time he tries to not think about that, telling himself he trusts Y/N and that there’s not much he can do about it until tomorrow, anyway, he instead thinks about the coming day. He tries to imagine how Y/N will look, what her dress will be like and how they’ll style her hair. He can see her walking down the aisle towards him in his mind’s eye, and he smiles, but then it’s ripped away as soon as he remembers where she is right now. He has to go, he has to find out what his father wants from her.

Dean leaves his chambers, realising he’s a little more drunk than he thought he’d be, and walks the halls towards his father’s chambers, seeing the two guards standing on the outside. 

“The king has company, he doesn’t wish to be disturbed,” the one tells him. 

“I’m not going to disturb him, I’m just waiting for my betrothed,” Dean argues. The guard doesn’t argue back, so Dean remains quiet, realising he’s swaying ever so slightly on his feet. 

But when he concentrates hard enough he thinks he can hear them. His father’s voice is just a low drone through the thick wooden doors, until Dean focuses and closes his eyes, and then he hears Y/N’s voice, crystal clear.

“How do you wish me to service you, my king?” 

Dean swallows hard, frowning deeper. 

“With your mouth first,” his father replies, and the second Dean makes for the door, both guards extend their arms and stop him. 

Dean shrugs them off and glares at them, deciding it’s best he doesn’t go into the room and kill his traitorous bride to be, and father on the eve of his wedding, anyway. He turns away and heads back to his chamber, desperate for more wine, maybe wine will clear his head, stop him thinking about Y/N altogether. How is he supposed to marry her in the morning if she’s running to his father’s chambers to service him, when she’s only supposed to service Dean – her husband? Does she even want to lay with him? She made such a big fuss out of it earlier that night Dean can’t be sure. She didn’t seem to make any fuss for her king. Dean’s head is spinning as he locks himself in his chambers and hopes there’s enough wine to see him through to a plan.

Dean eventually gets himself upright, prompting the redhead at his side to grumble and roll onto her front, and he grimaces slightly as he gets flashes of the night before and how he’d managed to convince the whore beside him to waver any charges for their night together, spilling his guts with his sob story about his bride that wasn’t faithful and the terrible night he discovered so, followed by yet even more bad news. 

But he tries not to think about the bad news that followed, tries to drown that out with whatever dregs of alcohol lie at the bottom of the wine bottle still at his bedside. 

“Good morning, your majesty.” 

He feels lips press to the back of his shoulder and glances over it to see the redhead is now awake, pressing herself up behind him. 

“You know I’m not a king,” he reminds her, shaking the wine bottle to find it’s finally empty. 

“Yet,” she giggles. “Besides, you’re the most important person in Campbell right now,” she purrs, settling a little higher on her knees. “And I’m happy to serve you any way you please.” Her hands rub over the front of his chest and down his naked torso. “I think I proved that last night.” 

“You’re confident for someone in a prince’s presence,” Dean notes, feeling a little fragile from the night before, and now he’s not so drunk, the redhead’s presence isn’t so much comforting as it is irritating. 

Every time he thinks of the girl who should now be his wife he feels a little sick, and there’s a heavy sadness in his chest Dean’s never felt before; the guilt of what he’s doing now he’s away from the Kingdom of Lawrence doesn’t help, either. But he’s no longer betrothed to Y/N. So the guilt is redundant, he knows that. Instead he should feel jealousy; jealous that his father got what was meant to be his. 

At the thought of his father, Dean’s stomach clenches and the sadness only grows heavier in his chest, as he thinks back to the last time he spoke with him. 

“What do you want, father?” Dean grunts. “Finished with my whore of a betrothed?” 

But Dean’s anger disperses when he sees the tears in John’s eyes. Dean has never witnessed the king cry before, and he’s not sure how he’s supposed to react. 

“Can I come in, son?” John chokes out. 

Dean silently steps to one side and watches his father enter his chambers, looking around quietly for a moment, making Dean feel more and more nervous. 

“What’s the matter?” Dean asks hesitantly. 

The king finally turns to face his eldest son and swallows thickly. 

“Sit down, Dean,” he orders softly, making his own way to Dean’s couch to take a seat. “Bring some wine with you.” 

Dean does as he’s told, forgetting all about his anger towards his father and bride, and pouring two large glasses of wine to bring to his father as he sits beside him. 

“Not many people know this, but your mother was sick,” John begins. “A sickness no medicines or potions could cure,” he goes on. 

Dean frowns, wondering how he could be so naive and oblivious to something like that. His mother never looked or seemed sick. 

“She’s gone, Dean, I’m sorry.” 

“Gone?” Dean presses, sitting back slightly. “What do you mean gone?” 

“Dead,” John chokes out. 

“What?” Dean swallows, the word echoing around his brain. He feels sick, suddenly, like he might throw up at their feet. 

“I can’t… I don’t know what to do son,” John admits, “you’re to be married tomorrow, and your mother is to be buried, and someone needs to tell your grandparents the news of their daughter. And I need a new queen…” he trails off. 

“Is that why Y/N was in your quarters tonight?” Dean asks, frowning. 

“What?” John presses, and then he pauses and licks his lips, taking a deep breath. 

“Were you asking her to marry you, to replace my mother?” 

Dean’s not sure what he feels first about the idea, jealousy or disgust. He knows that the kingdom is vulnerable without a queen by the king’s side, but the thought of John already thinking about his mother’s replacement the night of her death seems too sudden. And the idea of Dean’s betrothed – the love of his life – being that replacement is almost too much to handle. 

“Son, I need a queen,” John sighs. “She’s the only one suitable at such short notice, and she was happy to accept the proposal.” 

Dean scoffs, shaking his head as he bolts to his feet. “This is fucking ridiculous.” 

“Son–” 

“You know what, father? Take her… she’s a fucking whore anyway. You need someone to go to Campbell? I’ll do it, I don’t want to stick around and see this nightmare anyway.” 

Dean’s jaw clenches hard and John sighs, and rises to stand too. “Son, I loved your mother, but I have duties as a king.” 

“Fuck you. Fuck you both. Don’t expect me to come back.”

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[yukinagato2012]

what the heck happened? where is Dean????!!!! Aaahhhhhh, Mary's dead but where is Dean. This is so gut wrenching just when I thought that Mary's death is the straw that will break the camel's back and wake Dean's senses into killing his father for his cruelty, it took a sad turn towards the worst and Sam's angry, I can't wait to see the next chapter

The King's Blessing | 18+ | Chapter Ten

Summary: Prince Dean and Y/N have been betrothed since birth. Desperately in love, neither can wait to make it official once Y/N finally becomes a woman. But for some reason, womanhood is taking its time finding her. The day eventually comes, but it’s not quite the fairytale Y/N had been sold.  

Chapter Tags: guilt, shame, nerves, anxiety, religious references, confusion, forced marriage

Chapter WC: 2047

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Your POV

You can’t slow your breathing no matter how many times you try. Everytime you take a deep breath, your body only seems to panic even more, and you think you might be sick. You keep your eyes fixed on the reflection of yourself before you, and try to take in the beautiful details of your dress. White lace trims and tiny jewels that glisten in the sunlight beaded throughout. You’ve had several members of the castle staff surrounding you all morning, helping you dress, twisting and braiding your hair, placing flowers into it. You feel a little claustrophobic, but you try to keep your focus on the day ahead and not on the night before.

You can still taste the wine on your tongue, and feel the cold flagstones beneath your knees. The very thought of that alone makes you feel sick, and it’s only made worse with nerves for your wedding. You can’t stop thinking about the king’s words. About how your duty is to him above your husband. Above the Lord himself. How are you to make vows to God today that you will remain faithful and honour your husband, knowing that there’s a very likely chance that your king will wish for you to service him? 

You can’t disobey your king, but you also don’t want to disobey your husband or worse, God. You feel so guilty even thinking about hurting Dean like that. Even just thinking about the night before makes you feel undeserving of someone as loyal and loving as the prince. Is God punishing you for lying with another man before you’re married? While the king calls it a blessing, it feels more like a curse. Only bad things have come of it so far, and now the king wants more from you. 

You hadn’t wanted to service him with your mouth the night before, but it felt like you didn’t have much choice. He is still your king, and he was right, you were yet to be wed then. You didn’t have anyone else to honour like you did him. And the wine was making your head fuzzy, and at the time you’d thought that maybe if you just did as he’d ask, then he’d take mercy on you and leave you alone once you become his son’s wife. But now that the wine has gone, and you’re thinking more clearly, you’re fairly sure that was a very naive thing for you to believe. 

You want to see the queen, too. You don’t want to marry her son without having spoken to her about the night before. You want her to know that you love and respect Dean, and that you’d never want to do anything that disrespects her or her marriage to the king, either. But she has to know that her husband is the king and he can tell anyone to do anything and they have to do it, right? Though the queen has always been less than welcoming towards you, even after all these years. Has she always known that her husband would want you to service him? 

“I’d like to see the queen,” you tell one of the chambermaids adorning your body with a diamond necklace. 

The maid glances over to another maid, and then forces a smile in your direction. 

“I’m afraid the queen is far too busy, your highness,” she tells her. “She’ll be with the prince.” 

You just nod, suddenly feeling a lot less confident about facing the queen after the last time you saw her, anyway. So you accept your fate and return to staring at yourself, watching as you become more and more of a princess. 

“What about the priest? I wish to speak with the priest,” you say next, feeling the pressure of your guilt start to build higher and higher. Maybe if you can get a blessing – a real blessing from God – then things will be easier. “I would like to confess before I am married.” 

One of the chambermaids leaves your side, and you take some deep breaths, hoping a confession and some prayers will ease your mind before the moment arrives for you to marry Dean. You don’t want the day to be tarnished by your guilt and shame. This should be the happiest day of your life. You’re about to become Dean’s wife. You’re finally going to become a Princess of Lawrence by his side. This has been your destiny since you were born; to one day become queen, and who better to serve beside than a man like Dean?

You don’t need to wait long for the priest to arrive at your chambers, and as he approaches you, the chambermaids make themselves scarce. 

“You wished to see me, my child?” he asks softly. 

“Father Shurley,” you breathe out, suddenly feeling even more nervous. “I wish to make a confession before I am wed.” 

Father Shurley’s eyebrows raise slightly, but he nods his head, looking around the two of you before leading you out to your balcony. 

“Go ahead, my child, speak freely, the Lord is listening.” 

“Forgive me father, for I have sinned,” you begin, unable to look the man of God in the eye. But the priest stays quiet, so you continue. “I feel I have betrayed the Lord, and I fear I’ll have no choice but to do it again.” 

“Why might that be, child?” he prompts. 

“The betrayal is never my choice, Father, and I cannot disobey my king. But surely I should be faithful to God above all else?” 

Father Shurley’s eyebrows raise slightly at the question and he clears his throat. 

“Your grace, you are a princess, residing in the kingdom of Lawrence, the king is not bound by the wrath of God. The Lord speaks to him in ways you may never understand.” 

“So if my king asks something of me, it’s the Lord’s doing?” you check. “Does the bible not say that a woman should only lay with her husband?

“We don’t question the king, your highness,” Father Shurley reminds you. “He is the man God chose to rule us.”

You swallow hard and nod your head, secretly disappointed that you didn’t hear what you’d wanted to. But you can’t change the way the world works, you suppose, or God’s will.

“Would you like to pray with me?” the priest offers.

“Please, Father,” you nod, smiling gratefully at him. 

You close your eyes and try to clear your mind, focusing only on what you want to say to the Lord.

Father, please forgive me for my wrongdoings, for any sins I have committed against your name. I will graciously accept any punishment you see fit. 

You’ve never seen so many people. You didn’t even realise Lawrence had so many, you can hear the excited chatter in the streets, and you try to take deep, calming breaths as you await your entrance, but you can hear whispers, and can see the way people are looking at you. Do they know? Do they know that you were in the king’s chambers only last night? Do they know your sins? Does Dean? What if he doesn’t understand? What if he doesn’t wish to marry you anymore, or only does it out of obligation? 

But all your worries are forced to one side when you’re informed it’s time for you to walk down the aisle, and music begins to play out around you. You take your place in front of the large double doors and wait, glad for the safety of your veil, masking you from the outside world. The doors creak open and the music grows louder, people turning in their places to get a good view of you. There are a lot of important faces surrounding you, but none of them you recognise. You finally notice Sam standing close to the front, but he’s not looking at you, in fact his face is red and it looks like he’s been crying. As you get closer, he even turns his face away. You frown slightly, confused by his reaction, but continue your descend, until you realise you cannot see your prince. Your eyes search for him, but he’s not there at the altar, and neither is Mary. 

John moves into view and smiles widely at you, holding out his hand to help you climb the stairs to the altar. You hesitate but take the offer, completely confused as to where your betrothed is, and what might be going on. 

“You look beautiful, little lady,” John compliments quietly, and you force him a smile, still looking around for Dean. 

“Where is my betrothed, your majesty?” you finally ask, once you reach the top, and John just smirks deeper, and as the music dies, he turns to face the congregation. 

“Thank you for joining us today, some people have travelled far,” John notes. “Today we are filled with sorrow and joy.” You look at John, wondering what’s happening, why there’s sorrow on a day where there is only meant to be happiness and celebration. 

“Sorrow that we have lost our queen and my beloved, Mary,” he explains, and you can’t stop your face from reacting to the shocking news, your eyes widening and your mouth falling open. Why had no one informed you of the tragedy? “But joy, because I shall be taking a new queen today,” John smiles, reaching for your hand. “Princess Y/N of Elming.” 

Whispers start to alight around the room, and in the hustle of confusion and gossip, you find the noise you need for your voice to get lost amongst. 

“Your majesty,” you try to whisper to him, completely confused by his words. You’re supposed to be marrying Dean, but he’s nowhere to be seen. And Queen Mary is dead? Is Dean dead too? Is that why he’s not here?

“Let us begin the ceremony,” John announces, ignoring your words and silencing the crowd.

The king forces you to turn to face Father Shurly, who doesn’t seem surprised by the news, and you wonder why he didn’t inform you of these matters when he was in your chambers barely an hour ago. 

This isn’t right, you’re not supposed to marry John. You’re not supposed to become a queen this way. 

Is this God’s will? Is this a fitting punishment for your sins? You suppose it must be. As Father Shurley reminded you, King John is the Lord’s chosen ruler, he talks to God in ways you never can. 

The entire ceremony is a blur, and you barely hear your own voice as you recite your vows. John’s voice is a low grumble of background noise, and you keep your eyes fixed on Father Shurley, hoping to find some kind of comfort in the bible held within his hands. This is God’s will, you keep reminding yourself, hoping to get through it. 

And you just about stomach it until the end, until the priest announces you are man and wife, and John pulls you close and kisses you on the mouth right there for everyone to see. The congregation applauds, but you don’t feel a single ounce of the same joy inside you, and you try to subtly pull away before the kiss is over. 

With the vows exchanged, the coronation begins, and with your hand on the bible you swear your oath to your new found kingdom. You lower yourself to your knees, tilting your head towards your king as you feel the weight of the crown placed upon it, and your mind is still spinning as you hear your now-husband’s voice sound out. 

“Please rise as the Queen of Lawrence.” 

You slowly stand back to full height, feeling John’s forceful grip spin you around to face the rest of the onlookers, but the first face your eyes land on is Sam’s, and he’s quick to move through the pew he’s sitting at, leaving the church around the outskirts of the building. Your eyes now cast over the other faces, instead, as you feel John take your hand and squeeze it. 

“Smile, little lady, you’re now their queen.”  

You force a smile and lift your hand, waving slowly at them, realising God’s wrath really is cruel.

There’s no tag list for this series. Please follow my library blog (@negans-lucille-library) and turn notifications on to be notified when a chapter is posted.

[yukinagato2012]

OMG!!! I missed you so much!!! I was wondering what happened to your account. I can't wait to get my Drake story cravings fix!!! Welcome back!!! Cheers 🥂🥂🥂

Heyyyyy! 🥰

So if you're down with re-friending my Drake-loving self, give me a follow, and I'll follow you back. 😘

Does anyone remember me? 😂

My URL was Debramcg1106 before I went MIA and eventually deleted my account. 😋 But I'm back, and I'd love to reconnect with my Tumblr family. ❤️

[yukinagato2012]

Keep me lock in

I can't wait for more Ava and Drake

Hey All!

So this is the current list that I’m working with.  I know half of the people on here probably aren't even on Tumblr anymore, and I know a few people have asked to be added…and I wrote those names down SOMEWHERE, but they MAY not have actually made it onto this list, because…well, I’m an organizational NIGHTMARE.

So,  I want to clean this thing up once and for all.  

I’m sure by now you all know the drill.  If you want to stay or be added, let me know.  Otherwise do nothing and I’ll you’ll disappear quicker than my mis-spent youth. 

Happy Friday!!!!

Permatag List: @sincerelyella @choiceslife @burnsoslow @choiceswreckedme @ao719 @walkerismychoice @darley1101 @blackcatkita  @mskaneko @kimmiedoo5 @zaffrenotes @emichelle @katedrakeohd @yukinagato2012 @texaskitten30 @glaimtruelovealways @hhiggs @virtuallytakenby @blackcoffee85 @moonlightgem7 @drakewalker04 @eileendannie @indiana-jr @emilymay100 @gnatbrain @xxrainbow-princessxx @rainbowsinthestorm @edgiestwinter��@thequeenofcronuts @axwalker @bobasheebaby @gardeningourmet @princessleac1 @silverofdreams @notoriouscs @kingliam2019 @lauzales @msjr0119 @dawn-1994 @saivilo @mfackenthal @dcbbw @drakewalkerisreal @knightthunderis @graceful-leah @enmchoices @nomadics-stuff @queenjilian @no-one-u-knoww @dawn-1994 @gkittylove99 @thegreentwin @alyssalauren @drakexwillow  @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @petiteboheme   @choices97 @lovingchoices14 @karahalloway @emkay512  @dakamababy @tessa-liam @tinkie1973 @kat-tia801​

[yukinagato2012]

Damn, that's interesting no scratch that very interesting, I would also like to know what drama would Damien bring into this. Oh poor Lexie, being doubted by Drake's family will be so hard. I am soft with the smores scene, I love it, them sharing stories about their childhood, oh Drake is going to be aa great dad. He assured Lexie of things to come by being honest with what he really feels in this situation where Lexie also gathered strength and confidence that can do this together. I love Lexie's conviction that Drake doesn't have to pay her up and support her, I love this strong independent woman vibe. I live for it💖💖💖. Although they are coming off from a good place, I just hope that Connie and the fam would give Lexie a chance to be part of their family. Lastly, why won't they just sleep together lol obviously they are both crazy about each other. I have heard from friends that they get really horny during their pregnancy, and I wonder how long can they keep this charade they are doing RN🤣🤣🤣

Bad Timing 8: Falling

Book: The Royal Romance (AU)

Pairing: Drake Walker x Alexis O’Brien (MC) 

Synopsis: Alexis O’Brien is escaping a terrible past. After months of running  she settles  in Cordonia where she meets Drake at the bar where she works and they spend a passionate night together. 

What happens when a one-night-stand turns into unexpected parenthood? 

This chapter: Alexis moves in with Drake and they spend a lot of time together. Drake’s family is having a hard time accepting the news. 

MASTERLIST 

WORDS: 6,040 –SORRY!! 

POV: Dual (and someone else’s at the end of the chapter)

TRIGGER WARNINGS: A tiny bit of smut. 

ALL MY FICS ARE +18 

A/N: I apologize for any grammatical errors. 

I switch between Drake’s and Alexis’ pop in this chapter. I hope it’ll be clear enough!

Please if you want to be added or removed from the tag-list, do not hesitate to ask.  Tag-list in the comments! 

Keep reading

[yukinagato2012]

I am so excited for this!!!

I love everything you write and my vote is on anything Drake x Ava. Here's DDT for inspiration 😆😆😆

I can't wait 😘😘😘

UPDATE: 6.22.21

Heyyyyyy. ❤❤❤

So, I wrote something! 😋 And it felt really good, both doing it...and getting to interact with you guys again.

That being said, I'm not quite ready to jump back in with both feet and pick up Looking for Trouble where I left off. (although that is my ultimate goal.) For a little bit, I think I need to stick to some shorter drabbles and one-shots. But I need some inspiration. 😋 You guys are one of the main reasons I've missed writing so much, so I really want to know what you'd like to see.

Soooooo...😋 You know what I write.

Drake x Ava

Drake x Ava (college years)

Driam

Logan x Aly

What would you guys like to read? And ideas, thoughts, requests, etc, would be greatly appreciated!

My inbox is officially open.

Oh, also...I know I've been away for a while and some of you may want off my tag list. I completely get it, so if you want off just send me a quick pm and just say OFF, no hard feelings at all. ❤❤

Master Tag List: @choiceslife @burnsoslow @ao719 @callmeellabella @darley1101 @blackcatkita @mskaneko @kimmiedoo5 @zaffrenotes @emichelle @katedrakeohd @yukinagato2012 @texaskitten30 @glaimtruelovealways @hhiggs @virtuallytakenby @blackcoffee85 @moonlightgem7 @drakewalker04 @eileendannie @indiana-jr @emilymay100 @gnatbrain @xxrainbow-princessxx @rainbowsinthestorm @edgiestwinter @thequeenofcronuts @axwalker @bobasheebaby @gardeningourmet @princessleac1 @silverofdreams @notoriouscs@kingliam2019 @lauzales @msjr0119 @dawn-1994 @saivilo @mfackenthal @dcbbw @drakewalkerisreal @knightthunderis @graceful-leah @enmchoices @nomadics-stuff @queenjilian @emkay512 @gkittylove99 @alyssalauren @drakexwillow @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @kat-tia801 @thegreentwin @petiteboheme @sophxwithers @twinkleallnight

Drake X Ava: @moonlightgem7 @indiana-jr @motorcitymademadame @marshmallowsandfire @moneyfordiamonds

Looking for Trouble Only: @coffeebeandragon @dakamababy @drake-colt-lover-99

[yukinagato2012]

So is reblog is also not permitted?

That’s the difference. Reblogs are good! You promote the artist and their work.

At least for me repost is ok only in one condition: you asked permission and the artist said “yes”.

[yukinagato2012]

That is such a damn proposition. In this chapter you can see how good of a man Drake is, he controlled himself to not show any fear or anxiety in front of Alexis who's freaking out about the situation. This is a big change for both of them, like they only met twice and they got pregnant that one time. Guys without balls would already run for the hills and back out and never to be seen again. But no, Drake is above all of them, taking a big leap of faith and responsibility for taking care of Lexie and their child. Asking her to move with him is a great idea at least his mind would be at ease knowing that they are safe and not thrown across the streets. And good decision for Lexie to accept as well. Looking forward for their shananigans with living with each other. Oh can I just say I love how Drake made Lexie breakfast with whatever there is in her pantry, I love his resourcefulness and yes almond butter is divine and healthier, sorry about that Drake😜😜😜

Bad Timing: Unexpected

Book: The Royal Romance (AU)

Pairing: Drake Walker x Alexis O’Brien (MC) 

Synopsis: Alexis O’Brien is escaping a terrible past. After months of running  she settles  in Cordonia where she meets Drake at the bar where she works and they spend a passionate night together. 

What happens when a one-night-stand turns into unexpected parenthood? 

This chapter: After the startling news it’s time to make plans for the future. 

MASTERLIST 

WORDS: 4,557 

POV: Dual 

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Mentions of domestic violence. 

ALL MY FICS ARE +18 

A/N: I apologize for any grammatical errors. 

Please if you want to be added or removed from the tag-list, do not hesitate to ask. 

Keep reading

[yukinagato2012]

This is blowing my mind, damn, I am speechless. I express my feelings this chapter thru a series of gifs.

Bad Timing: News

Book: The Royal Romance (AU)

Pairing: Drake Walker x Alexis O’Brien (MC) 

Synopsis: Alexis O’Brien is escaping a terrible past. After months of running  she settles  in Cordonia where she meets Drake at the bar where she works and they spend a passionate night together. 

What happens when a one-night-stand turns into unexpected parenthood? 

MASTERLIST 

WORDS: 3,740

POV: Dual

TRIGGER WARNINGS: None for this Mentions of domestic violence, and explicit sex scenes. 

ALL MY FICS ARE +18 

A/N: I apologize for any grammatical errors. 

Please if you want to be added or removed from the tag-list, do not hesitate to ask. 

Keep reading

[yukinagato2012]

Go get her Drake!!! I'm rooting for you two!!!

Bad Timing: Kismet

Book: The Royal Romance (AU)

Pairing: Drake Walker x Alexis O’Brien (MC) 

Synopsis: Alexis O’Brien is escaping a terrible past. After months of running  she settles  in Cordonia where she meets Drake at the bar where she works and they spend a passionate night together. 

What happens when a one-night-stand turns into unexpected parenthood? 

This chapter

MASTERLIST 

WORDS: 3,890 🙊

POV: Dual 

TRIGGER WARNINGS: None for this chapter. In the future, mentions of domestic violence, and explicit sex scenes. 

ALL MY FICS ARE +18 

A/N: I apologize for any grammatical errors. 

I switch between Drake’s and Alexis’ POV several time in this chapter. I hope it’ll be clear enough!

Keep reading

[yukinagato2012]

OMG really can you please tag me, I desperately want to know what will happen next, where did Lexie go, what the heck did Matt did to her in the past? I want to smack him in the head already even though don't know anything about their past yet; and please more, more, and more Drake scenes 😜😜😜I miss you too💖💖💖

Bad Timing: Only For Tonight

Book: The Royal Romance (AU)

Pairing: Drake Walker x Alexis O’Brien (MC)

Synopsis: Alexis O’Brien is escaping a terrible past. After months of running  she settles  in Cordonia where she meets Drake at the bar where she works and they spend a passionate night together.

What happens when a one-night-stand turns into unexpected parenthood?

This chapter: Drake and Alexis spend the night together. What happens after? 

MASTERLIST HERE

WORDS: 1998

POV: Dual

TRIGGER WARNINGS:  Explicit Sex 🍋🍋🍋. Mentions of domestic violence.

ALL MY FICS ARE +18

A/N: I apologize for any grammatical errors.

I’m participating in the Wacky Drables prompts  

This is Prompt #87: No offense, but I’m not interested (Bold)

@wackydrabbles​

Thank you to @burnsoslow​ for beta reading! I love you ❤️❤️

Please if you want to be added or removed from the tag-list, do not hesitate to ask.

@mskaneko​ @burnsoslow​ @texaskitten30​ @glaimtruelovealways​ @kingliam2019​ @kat-tia801​ @no-one-u-know​ @marshmallowsandfire​ @marshmallowsaremyfavorite​ @princessleac1​ @rubiwalker​ @lovingchoices14​ @randomstuffdorme​ @artisticgirl44 @bebepac​ @tinkie1973​ @gkittylove99​ @moneyfordiamonds​ @forallthatitsworth​ @mom2000aggie​ @twinkle-320​ @nomadics-stuff​ @thegreentwin​ @twinkleallnight​

Keep reading

[yukinagato2012]

Why did she left so soon? Not just in Drake's apartment but to Cordonia? Why? What is she running away from? That guy Matt I think is a douche!!! Drake is going after her.

Can I just say that this is so hot! I love Drake! He is so freaking hot, damn.

See what I mean 😜😜😜

Bad Timing: Only For Tonight

Book: The Royal Romance (AU)

Pairing: Drake Walker x Alexis O’Brien (MC)

Synopsis: Alexis O’Brien is escaping a terrible past. After months of running  she settles  in Cordonia where she meets Drake at the bar where she works and they spend a passionate night together.

What happens when a one-night-stand turns into unexpected parenthood?

This chapter: Drake and Alexis spend the night together. What happens after? 

MASTERLIST HERE

WORDS: 1998

POV: Dual

TRIGGER WARNINGS:  Explicit Sex 🍋🍋🍋. Mentions of domestic violence.

ALL MY FICS ARE +18

A/N: I apologize for any grammatical errors.

I’m participating in the Wacky Drables prompts  

This is Prompt #87: No offense, but I’m not interested (Bold)

@wackydrabbles​

Thank you to @burnsoslow​ for beta reading! I love you ❤️❤️

Please if you want to be added or removed from the tag-list, do not hesitate to ask.

@mskaneko​ @burnsoslow​ @texaskitten30​ @glaimtruelovealways​ @kingliam2019​ @kat-tia801​ @no-one-u-know​ @marshmallowsandfire​ @marshmallowsaremyfavorite​ @princessleac1​ @rubiwalker​ @lovingchoices14​ @randomstuffdorme​ @artisticgirl44 @bebepac​ @tinkie1973​ @gkittylove99​ @moneyfordiamonds​ @forallthatitsworth​ @mom2000aggie​ @twinkle-320​ @nomadics-stuff​ @thegreentwin​ @twinkleallnight​

Keep reading

[yukinagato2012]

Thank goodness, I've been so worried about what happened, that you disappeared out of the blue, but now I know the reason, I am so relieved that it's not covid-19, this means a lot to me to know that you're safe and just took a break for your health concern, you really are admirable, battling out this new normal is really difficult in itself but also telling other people this circumstance and powering through it, helps me a lot too, I am often discouraged with what is happening in the world right now and other stuff feeling like a failure everyday. Thank you for informing and being an inspiration, I miss your stories a lot and I can't wait to read them soon. I'll pray that everything will get better soon. Sending you some hugs from Baymax.

Hey Tumblr friends!

I know it’s been a while since I’ve been here and I just want you to know that I’ve missed you and haven’t forgotten you!  There has just been some stuff going on with me personally that’s been keeping me from really being comfortable on this platform, or any social media platform really.  But your notes and well wishes and personal messages have been SO appreciated (you know who you are! ❤❤). You have no idea how much they’ve meant to me.  REALLY. 

More under the cut…

Keep reading

[yukinagato2012]

It’s just like this wave washing over me again and again. It knocks me down and… when I try to stand up, it just comes for me again. And I can’t - 

[yukinagato2012]

Oh this is so sweet, too sweet for my heart to handle, Dani and Liam are so lovable like what 20 kids???!!! But yeah with a beautiful and handsome face like that nobody would even dare argue and it is in fact for the crown, securing the future of the crown for may generations to come. Drake and Riley are definitely the end game, good thing the restaurant got renovated, the one place where they build their passion and the reason for them to know each other, well of course, there is the plotting of Madeleine against the crown, but yeah, they really are meant to be, and having a son together just fill my heart with joy💖💖💖

Unexpected - Epilogue

Drake x MC // Liam x OC

A/N: Sorry it took me sooo long to upload it! I started writing it three/four months ago and only finished today *whoops*. The characters belong to Pixelberry (minus Danielle). I hope you’ll like it and THANK YOU SO MUCH for following this story! Thank you for all the nice comments, reblogs, likes, theories and thank you for loving my baby Dani. It means so much to me! 

Rating: PG

Word count: 1053

Tagging: @gardeningourmet​ @delightfullypinkglitter​ @hopefulmoonobject​ @desireepow-1986​ @dcbbw​ @kingliam2019​ @the-soot-sprite @thequeenofcronuts​ @badchoicesposts​ @burnsoslow​ @annekebbphotography​ @alesana45​ @ao719​ @axwalker​ @walkerduchess​ @texaskitten30​ @lodberg​ @cordonianroyalty​ @emichelle​ @siriusxxvideos​ @i-bloody-love-drake-walker​ @samihatuli​ @choices-lurker​ @i-miss-trr​ @nikkis1983​ @innerpostmentality​ @msjr0119​ @bascmve01​ @mind-reader1​ @edgiestwinter​ @drakesensworld​ @queenjilian​ @princessleac1​ @saivilo​ @yukinagato2012​ ❤

Keep reading