#go home and fuck Sharon

[evansbby]

what would POYT steve have done if he saw peter and his omega together before him and omega got together?

would he beat peter up?

would he have cornered omega?

Good question! I never thought about that before! I can imagine Steve would be caught off guard a bit, and he’d feel a lot of emotions at once. Mainly anger. Bc how dare this nerdy omega from his class be kissing and holding hands with some random skinny nobody boy??? Could she possibly have a boyfriend?

And it would really irk Steve but he wouldn’t understand why… he’d rationalise in his head that it’s bc an omega should be with an alpha… not whatever this random guy is. Yeah, that’s totally the reason why he’s so affected, it’s not like Steve’s jealous, pffft… definitely not jealous.

Then some juvenile behaviour would ensue. Steve would trip someone up and they’d go flying into omega, who would fall at the impact. Then Steve and co would laugh at her. Then Peter would try and stand up to Steve, and that would give Steve (and Sam and Bucky) a reason to beat Peter up😩

But it would end with omega cleaning up Peter’s wounds, and Steve feeling not nearly as fulfilled or happy.

[espinosaurusrexex]

Watchful Eyes

CEO!SteveRogers x Female!Maid!Reader AU

read Bucky's story here

summary: When your best friend gets you a new job, cleaning the apartment of the most successful man in New York City, you don't hesitate to accept. The pay is more than good, and the man himself is better than any eye candy you have ever seen. Unbeknownst to you, you've caught his attention just as much. Steve can't keep his mind off you, so much so, that he drives everyone around him insane with his grumpiness when you aren't around. It seems like he has to take matters into his own hands when he realizes, you're too shy to take things further yourself.

a/n: So that just happened... I don't know where it came from, but please enjoy. (Please don’t be discouraged by the word count - I promise you it’s worth it and I kindly ask you to at least try 💛)

word count: 10.8k

warnings: power differences, Steve is pining, watching someone over secret livestream (is this stalking?), women being referred to as objects (not by Steve), just so much fluff, and also angst (there is a happy ending!), smut (masturbation - m, praise kink, oral - f receiving, dirty talk, orgasm control, overstimulation, unprotected p in v, size kink, breeding kink) !MINORS DNI!

ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ✶ 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ✧*･ﾟ

“Can you start Monday?”

“I can start Monday.”

“Perfect.”

Holy fuckidy fuck fuck. 

You had a job. A job that would crinkle some noses but it would pay money. Good money actually. Well, better than other offers in the branch.  

It had been luck, really. Because during one drunken night, which had originally been dedicated to drowning yourself in self-pity over the last job that had let you go due to staff cuts, your friend Natasha had crashed your party with Chinese food and gossip from her workplace. She was an assistant for one of the CEO’s of Shield Protection Services. And during her lunch with Sharon, the other assistant, Sharon had complained about Steve Rogers and how he had fired the third maid this month because they, apparently, were taking pictures of his home or selling some of his things. 

There might have been some talk about how picky and stuck up he could be but the important info was that Sharon was desperate at this point and had asked Nat if she knew anyone with the decency not to breach privacy and willingness to clean the CEO’s home. 

The good thing - or bad thing, you weren’t sure - was, Nat knew you were desperate too. So she gave Sharon your number and before you knew it, you were an employed woman again. 

❁ ❁ ❁

It was too early for you to be roaming the streets of New York, but you had gotten instructions and so you had gotten up at 6 and headed out to the address. And when you arrived, it felt as though it was the first time you blinked since the subway - you were that tired. Definitely not a morning person.  

The building was huge, tall glass fronts stretching into the sky and the ride up to the penthouse took longer than your average elevator rides did. 

The doors opened and revealed a beautiful open floor plan. A whole wall of windows brought natural light into the place and offered a view so breathtaking, it took you a moment to collect yourself. The place was ginormous - a lot to clean up - but seemed tidy enough to at least get started right away. 

You placed your bag on the counter by the kitchen and took more of the place in when suddenly, a voice startled you. 

“Who are you?” You whipped around, big eyes searching for the source until they landed on a tall man standing in what seemed to be a dining area - well, one of them at least. He had broad shoulders, neatly styled hair and one of those toothpaste smiles you only ever saw in magazines. He was wearing office attire, blue dress pants that slightly stretched over his muscled thighs, and when your head wandered back up his body, piercing blue eyes seemed to stare right into your soul. 

Holy Shit. 

Before you stood Steve Rogers, three-time Forbes Magazine cover story, young entrepreneur turned filthy-rich hunk of a man, and CEO of the most successful security firm in this country. And he was talking to you - staring at you... waiting for an answer. 

Talking, you needed to start talking, you reminded yourself.

“I’m the new maid, sir. I’m so sorry I was told to come here at 7 as you leave for work before that.”

Mr. Rogers looked at you with an unintelligible stare. Meanwhile, you were nervously wringing your hands in the doorway, looking down. You hadn’t planned for anyone important to see you today. The worn-down Fleetwood Mac shirt you didn’t mind getting bleach on hanging over some pants you pulled from the back of your closet definitely wasn’t the kind of outfit you expected to greet Steve Rogers in. Great start. This was going awful.

“Well I’m here aren’t I?” His arms folded before his chest as his eyebrow raised, impressive biceps bulging beneath the white button-up, and - damn - it was hard not to stare. 

“Right. Yes. Sorry. I’ll come back later.” You turned to leave again but he stopped you.

“No need. I am on my way out.” The left corner of his mouth twitched into a cheeky grin when he grabbed his bag, left the newspaper discarded on the table, and placed his coffee mug in the sink. Interesting.

“Don’t snoop.” He whispered teasingly as he passed you, a whiff of expensive cologne paralyzing your senses and you weren’t sure if he was making a suggestion or actually warning you. That damn perfume seemed to hypnotize you. 

Your eyes followed his broad shoulders until they disappeared behind the corner and then the elevator doors shut. It seemed to take all the tension from your face. You exhaled long and then began to look around some more.

The place was huge, you’d already established that. But when you found the third bedroom amongst the private office and Pool table room, you knew you had to make a weekly plan to work off. You had to give Mr. Rogers credit, though. There was rarely any clutter lying around - it wasn’t dirty per se - just had the usual dust you’d expect in a place this size with only one person living in it. 

You huffed, resting your hand on your hips once you completed the tour. And then you got started. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve peered up from his computer screen when Bucky strolled through the doors of his office. A coffee in hand he had most likely tweaked from his assistant's desk on the way here, he shot a grin to his oldest friend and business partner. 

“What ya doing, punk?” The brunette asked teasingly when he circled the desk and settled on the window sill behind Steve. 

“Just making sure things stay in order.” He leaned back and turned around slightly, just in time to see his friend nod knowingly.

“Heard Nat got you a new maid.” Bucky dipped his chin towards the laptop still open on the desk. “That her?”

His eyes wandered to the screen where a live feed of his apartment streamed you changing his bedsheets. He hummed in agreement. 

“She’s pretty,” Bucky commented before sipping his coffee again and Steve felt an unfamiliar feeling bubble in his stomach. “But I bet you don’t care anyway. You’re all ‘don’t sell my stuff’ and ‘having things stolen from a security firm CEO is embarrassing’. Wouldn’t know a pretty thing like that if it climbed you.”

“Because it is embarrassing. And I highly recommend you monitor your staff to make sure they don’t do the same.” Of course, Steve knew you were ‘pretty’. Exactly his type, to be honest. He had noticed it the second you stepped into his apartment this morning. The way your hands wrung beneath you. And he had shot you a teasing remark in hopes of discovering a sassy fire in those timid doe eyes of yours. But you had stumbled over your words like a fawn.

Bucky clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Nonsense. Peggy is great - and too old to even carry anything valuable out of my place. I trust her with my life and house keys.” And then he pushed off the sill. “I think it’s time for you to get laid again. And that’s why I’m a great friend and organized dinner and drinks with Tony and Sam tonight.”

Steve fell back in his chair, hands over his eyes. “I don’t need your wing-maning me. I’m perfectly fine on my own.” 

“Sure.”

“I’m serious, Buck.”

“You can thank me later.” He stout towards the door. “You know... after you’ve been devoured by the pretty little waitress at the Ironbar.” Bucky winked before his face disappeared again. 

Steve just huffed as his eyes landed back on the weekly report on his desk and then swayed back to his computer screen. 

As unwilling as he was to admit it, it had been some time since his last late-night rendezvous. And as he saw you crawl up on his bed to place the bedsheets properly along his mattress, he felt his pants tighten slightly. 

❁ ❁ ❁

“We’ll get one more round of the good stuff.” 

“Of course Mr. Stark.” Tony winked and patted his waitress’s butt before she stalked away on her high heels and towards the locked glass cabinet behind the bar. 

Steve had designed it himself, a fiberglass shrine-like display for ridiculously expensive liquors, only to be opened by a passcode that got regenerated every week. He watched as Betty - the young and lanky waitress - retrieved a crystal bottle of whiskey and filled four glasses with the golden liquid. 

“God, I love that thing,” Tony sighed next to Steve and watched Betty with a satisfied smile.

“You better be talking about that cabinet, Stark.” Steve shook his head with a frown only to receive a wink from Tony, who was sitting closest to him at the round table. 

“So...” Bucky leaned over to Steve and spoke in a hushed voice. “You see anything you like?” He gestured at the bar where Tony’s carefully picked waitresses passed with filled and emptied glasses and bottles. They were all wearing tight black t-shirts and skirts or shorts that counted just as scandalous. One could foolishly mistake this place for a Hooters if Tony hadn’t made it one of the most pristine bars in all of New York City. 

It was popular amongst the clientele which mainly consisted of bored rich men that came here to get something to look at without being judged for it. But Steve wasn’t feeling the girls today. When Betty shoved her breasts in his field of view, all he could think about was how he had never gotten the idea to get his maids a uniform that catered to his... liking. And when Betty swayed her hips on her way to the bar, his thoughts became clouded by the image of you in a short little skirt, riding up just a little to tease I’m about what was hidden underneath when you kneeled on his bed to get the sheets sorted. 

Steve adjusted his pants at the little flashback, clearing his throat and sitting up straighter in his seat. 

“Oh, apparently you have...” Bucky grinned before his eyes hushed down to Steve’s crotch and back up just as fast. “Well then,” he leaned back with a satisfied grin. “Which one is it? Samatha? Tiffany? Though I think Megan is more your type.” 

“Just shut up, punk.”

“Okay you don’t have to tell me me... either way, my job here is done.” He brushed his hands off fake dust and smiled smugly. “You better be in a good mood tomorrow.” 

Steve just huffed and waited for Betty to come back with ‘the good stuff’ to hopefully drown out his annoying friends for the rest of the night. It wasn’t that he didn’t like them. No, he would do anything for the people he chose to have in his life. The group he found himself in right now had been through thick and thin with him, stayed through his fame and fortune, and was just as supportive before it had all happened to either of them. He was happy having the guys because they built each other up and aimed for greatness - together, they were fucking invincible. 

But sometimes, Steve felt a little out of place amongst Bucky and Tony. It was in situations regarding women most of all because he could never adapt the attitude to talk about them the way they did. And he never had the headspace to juggle as many as they did. He had tried the one-night stands. But he struggled to navigate the superficial pleasure maze New York City provided in masses. Because just as the ever-passing smiles on the streets, it wasn’t fulfilling enough for Steve. At least not in the way it was for his friends. 

He wanted what Sam had. A partner, a family, something constant and beautiful. And that was, why he found himself asking for pictures of Sam’s kids and nephews rather than listen to Tony’s latest bed bunny endeavor whenever the conversations took a turn in that direction. 

“Earth to Rogers,” Sam’s finger snapped in front of Steve’s face. “What this I’m hearing? You got a new maid? What happened to the old one?”

“She sold his stuff on Craigslist.” Bucky snorted and took a sip of the drink that had magically appeared in front of them. 

“You aren’t serious.” 

“I really liked that tie,” Steve grumbled into his cup. 

“Man, I’m glad I don’t have to deal with things like that. You rich people really are a different breed.” 

“You’re rich, too, Sam.” 

Sam just smiled above his crystal glass, having fun with the little joke he liked to pull for ages now. He wasn’t any less successful than any of the other men at their table. But other than them, he had settled in a beautiful neighborhood - despising the concrete jungle each of the other guys lived in. His house felt like home, like a cozy place that had seen love and time and nothing like the polished and sleek man caves the rest of them owned.

“Well, anyways, my amazing assistant organized him a new one, the prettiest thing - really. But he’s refusing to see it.” 

Tony chuckled. “Well, that's Rogers in a nutshell, isn’t it.” 

Sam just pursed his lips and glanced over at Steve with a soft smile, ignoring the comments of the other guys. They never explicitly talked about it, but Sam was a smart man, and it would have surprised Steve, had he not already figured out that he was more of a family man than their friends were as of right now. 

“To new maids that aren’t selling your clothes on the internet then.” He raised his drink and winked at Steve once their glasses clinked. 

And Steve? He visibly exhaled, silently thanking Sam for pulling the tension out of their conversation. 

❁ ❁ ❁

It had been a little over a week. And so far, things had been going great. 

By now, you had cleaned through the entire place once and set up a plan of what to do on which day. You weren’t surprised it actually took a full 6 days to cover every single room in Mr. Rogers’s apartment. You had already figured out which tasks were going to be your favorite and which weren’t. Like his bedroom. You liked doing that. Because even though the sheets were a bitch to get on the ginormous bed, you kind of liked the smell the room had. His pillows smelled of the cologne you couldn’t forget ever since the man had brushed past you on your very first day.

You were pretty sure you would never forget that since your knees literally felt like giving in at that moment.  

Today, it was bedroom day. That and the on-suite. 

With a smile on your face, you entered the apartment on the top floor, each day secretly hoping you’d catch a glimpse of the CEO before he took off to work. But even though you tried to arrive ten minutes earlier (you really couldn’t spare any more sleep for your own good), the first day remained an exception in Mr. Rogers’s daily schedule. 

You placed your bag on the stool at the open kitchen island, changed into some other shoes, and headed for the supply closet. Despite the size of the place, you actually got around pretty easily. Mr. Rogers was a very organized and neat man - you’d noticed that the first and only time you met him. So things were almost always where you’d think they would be. Which made your job just that much easier. But also prevented you from the advised ‘not snooping’ you desperately wanted to do. 

You knew better though. 

People like Steve Rogers probably had cameras installed in this place. And you would certainly not go and rummage through his underwear drawer after he had personally told you not to. Who knows what strings powerful people like him could pull. So, for the sake of not waking up on a cargo ship to Madagascar one day, you restrained yourself as much as possible. 

Of course, you didn’t stop your eyes from wandering whenever you swept the shelves in his walk-in closet or closed the drawers in his office space. A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. And this girl had a nosy best friend on her back that wanted to know every little detail of her new job... and was also way too invested in celebrity gossip.

Though, as always, there was nothing out of the ordinary today - there never was. Sure, it was still exciting to see how the filthy rich lived but other than that, no scandalous collection of women’s underwear, or drug lord papers lying around. You started to believe that Steven Grant Rogers was a very boring man. Not that you could properly judge in your position, seeing as you did not really know him, but the whole being in his home seemed a little too intimate not to do so. 

So that day you finished the tasks for the day, packed your stuff, and made your way back home, hoping to see him in the morning or to at least find something more interesting than dust in his home. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve greeted the concierge of his building when he entered the marbled entree hall. With a little frown and a look at his watch, the man greeted him back before he resumed his work. 

Yes, Steve was home earlier than usual. He regularly stayed even longer than his original work schedule intended. Today, however, he was home even earlier. But after another banter with Bucky about Steve’s non-existent sex life, he couldn’t imagine making it past five in the same building as his persistent best friend. So, he fled the office and decided to work through the rest of his papers at home. 

Of course, Steve knew that Bucky only wanted the best for him. But the ways he tried to approach the supposed bothersome loneliness Steve had in his bed just weren’t for Steve. Those might have worked on Tony - hell, Tony probably invented setting his friends up with one-night-stands - but not on Steve.

He huffed and swiped some loose hairs from his forehead as the elevator dinged at the top floor. The doors opened to the window front of his penthouse apartment and Steve stepped over the threshold, immediately stopping in his tracks when he took in the scene before him. 

The vacuum was running while you were kneeling on the floor, wiping up some water he only assumed came from the vase missing next to his sofa. He would have found it rather amusing if it weren’t for the way you carried yourself today. Something wasn’t right. 

Steve knew that you weren’t usually this messy - that much he could tell from the livestream that had become a constant in his office by now. Your head hung low, your motions hurried and sloppy. He watched as you swiped the floor, one of your sleeves constantly slipping down your arm again until you angrily pushed it up further than necessary. 

It was worrisome. 

He couldn’t place the feeling he felt in his chest when he sat his briefcase down and approached you from behind. His foot carefully turned off the vacuum and then he stood still, careful not to startle you when you finally looked up at him. 

He could see it in your eyes then. The panic, the uncertainty, and something else he hadn’t seen in them before.

You looked around you as if you were seeing the mess for the first time and when Steve was still watching you with an arched brow after a minute of silence, you suddenly sprung up to your feet. 

“I am so Sorry, Mr. Rogers. I didn’t realize it was this late already.” You turned a full 360 until your eyes landed on his again. “I’ll have this cleaned up in no time and I'll be out of your way. I promise.” 

Steve watched as you scrambled to gather the vacuum cord, struggling with it when it didn’t immediately snap back into the caster. “The subway was stuck in a tunnel for an hour because some guy decided to pull the emergency break for fun. And then this lady passed out next to me and when the fire department finally got us out and the paramedics packed her in the ambulance, I realized that I still had her purse.” You finally got the cord in turning so fast that the wet rag in your hands sprayed some water on Steve. “And do you know how difficult it is to find out which hospital they’re taking people? Because it’s so much more difficult than it looks in the movies. I didn’t know that! And then it was almost 10 a.m. when I got here. I am so sorry. This won’t happen again I promise-“

“Hey,” Steve finally stepped forward and caught your flailing hands with his and it shut you up. “It’s alright.” He spoke softly, guiding your hands down and proceeding to carefully stroke your arms down. “Are you okay? Do you need a day off?” 

Your doe eyes stared up at him, round and shiny as if you couldn’t believe he was actually standing in front of you. And Steve had to admit, besides the concern breezing through his body, your face was capturing up close. He traced your lashes with his gaze, the way your lips were parted slightly, your teeth showing past your upper lip, and the way your eyebrows were raised in shock. 

“No... no, I’m fine.” You finally stammered and it made Steve relax a little. 

“Then take a breath for me, please.” You nodded and Steve watched as your shoulders moved when you inhaled with your eyes closed. It shook Steve out of his trance. He cleared his throat and retreated his hands from your arms, awkwardly standing up a little straighter now that there was no excuse to touch you anymore. 

You were fine - that’s what you had said. But you didn’t quite seem that way. 

He watched as you opened your eyes and gifted him a small smile. Then your gaze dew to the floor and the mess you were standing in. Your smile turned awkward. 

“I’ll clean this up real quick and then I’ll be out of your hair.” 

Steve shook his head with a smile. Maybe this was a nice opportunity to do as Bucky had suggested. It was true, Steve hadn’t been interested enough before. Had he taken more time to know his former maids better, he could have probably prevented his things from being stolen and sold. Maybe it wasn’t exactly what Bucky had meant by ‘interested’, but Save decided it would do for now. “You can do what you need to and you can take as much time as you need to. I’ll be in my office for some time, so please don’t rush. I didn’t mean to freak you out by coming home earlier.” 

His arms reached up to scratch the back of his neck and your eyes landed on his bicep. Those damn doe eyes. “O- okay.”

He nodded, buried his hands in his pockets, gifted you a tight-lipped smile, and then proceeded to grab his briefcase and disappear into his office at the end of the hall. 

After some time, he heard the vacuum pick back up. Steve peaked through his open office door and caught a glimpse of you roaming his living room every now and then. It was relieving to know that you were functioning again. You had him worried for a second there - a feeling the successful CEO hadn’t welcomed in a hot minute. But it was kind of nice, made him feel a little more human than usual. So he didn’t mind having you work while he was home. On the contrary, actually, even though he had a huge stack of papers to go through, having to do them with a little bit of white noise was much more efficient than he had thought. He liked it when the occasional sound of items being set down snook its way to his office just to be interrupted by the vacuum again. And before he knew it, the workload he had taken home with him today, was worked through. 

Steve made his way to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. Though, as he waited for the machine, he found himself leaning against the counter and watching you work in front of him. You were currently bent over the sofa, arranging the cushions after shaking them out, your shirt riding up ever so slightly and exposing a strip of skin on your back. 

The fresh grounding of coffee beans covered the way Steve gulped loudly at the sight of you in front of him. This was definitely different than watching on his laptop screen. He felt his pants tighten ever so slightly as he imagined walking up to you and just taking you from behind. Your face would press into the pillows as he would easily push into you, hearing your drawn-out moans through the cushions. 

He couldn’t help himself, you were just so pretty. 

The smell of coffee drew Steve back to reality. It wasn’t that simple. Because Steve wanted you to want him as well. But you didn’t know him well enough yet. 

You pulled the vacuum around the corner and seconds later the sound of the storage room door closing echoed through the apartment. You walked back into the living room, adjusted the book on his coffee table, and then looked at your work with your hands on your hips. It was kind of cute to watch, Steve had to admit. 

“Well done,” Steve praised and your shoulders jerked in surprise. 

“Woah, didn’t see you there, Sir.” You relaxed again and then moved to change your shoes, before packing the other pair in your bag. You looked like you were about to leave, but Steve didn’t want that. 

“Would you like some coffee?” He offered and turned to grab the mug that was just filled with the steaming hot beverage. 

But you shook your head, raising your hands. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude. I’m sure you’ve got work to do...”

“I wouldn’t have asked if it were an inconvenience.” 

You looked down and nodded, which made Steve smile and hand you the cup. Your hands encased it like it was a cold winter's day, timid looks roaming the room and landing everywhere but him. 

“You seem uncomfortable,” he tried, cautious not to intrude. 

“I’m not. It’s just that... I’m not used to,” you gestured around the kitchen, “all this.” 

“I know it sounds stupid but sometimes I feel the same.” Steve took in the high ceilings and shiny surfaces, the expensive paintings and furniture he had no part in picking out.

You just stared at him again before nodding and averting your eyes once more. It seemed like you were holding back, but Steve didn’t feel like he was in the position to ask. So he just had to do with your fleeting glances and diffident presence. It was fine for now. Though he didn’t know if he could actually stand it for long. 

“You got this job through Bucky’s assistant, right?”

“Natasha, yes. She’s my best friend.” Your eyes lit up and Steve celebrated the little victory in silence. He had finally found something to talk about with you. 

“How long have you known each other?” He took a sip of his own coffee, acting indifferent, though his gaze hung on your lips. 

“We’ve been friends since high school. But then we went to different colleges and for a moment, we lost contact. But when I called her after graduation, we reconnected. We coincidentally both moved to New York. It’s nice to have her back.”

“That does sound nice. I know a thing or two about reconnecting with old friends.” Steve smiled reminiscent. 

“Right, your business partner. Mr. Barnes.” You set your mug down when Steve shot you a surprised look. “Sorry, but it’s hard not to know things about you when every tabloid in the country has covered your story.”

Steve nodded, being reminded once again how different his life was now. Not that he didn’t appreciate it... it just used to be simpler. 

“Yes, Bucky is my oldest friend... we’d lost contact in-between as well. Now we spend so much time together, I sometimes wish it was that way again.”

“You don’t mean that,” you laughed and Steve swore it was the prettiest he’d ever heard. 

“Of course not.” He set his cup down once he noticed that you had finished your coffee and had grabbed your bag from the stool. 

“I should go,” you smiled sadly and Steve just nodded with a similar expression on his face. Then he pushed off the counter and walked you to the elevator. He caught your small wave before the doors closed, leaving his stomach feeling warm and fuzzy. 

This was definitely new.

❁ ❁ ❁

The next week was pure torture. 

Steve couldn’t work from home like he had wanted to. He also couldn’t go to work later to at least catch a ‘good morning’ from you. 

It had only lasted a couple more days. He had managed to trap you for a conversation with coffee two times after the first one and then it all went downhill from there. 

Steve’s work seemed to pile up in unusual amounts of papers on his desk. His e-mails and meetings were longer than ever and his frustrations built with every new message Sharon redirected to his phone.

It wasn’t until Bucky pointed out how unusually grumpy he was, that Steve realized, he missed you. How could that have happened? He barely knew you and talked to you even less than that. But he knew he was missing you. Because as silly as it sounded, the time he spent with you, he was more relaxed than ever before. 

“I’m headed home, now. Do you need anything before I go?” Sharon popped her head through the door of Steve’s office after the knock she placed there. 

Steve just sighed as he closed one of a dozen tabs on his computer. Then he shook his head. “See you tomorrow.”

“Bright and early!” She beamed and Steve just waved her off. 

The door fell shut once again and Steve moved to close a second tab. The one open beneath was the video footage of his home. It was paused because Steve had categorized it as ‘not suited for work’ once he saw you climb on his bed to straighten out the sheets and his dick reminded him just how deprived he really was. 

Looking at the paused video now, his pants tightened again. There you were, on all fours on his bed, tugging the sheet under the headboard side of his mattress - ass up and struggling. Fucking hell. 

His hand instinctively moved to his crotch to relieve some tension and then his eyes fell to his office door. Sharon had gone home. He was likely the only one left. His gaze wandered back to his computer screen and before he knew it, he was rubbing his hard cock through his pants. 

He groaned lowly at the feeling spreading through his body, the image on his screen just intensifying the scenarios he usually imagined when he got himself off. Because now they had your face. And your perfect body. If he squinted at the screen, he could actually see a sliver of your underwear peaking out the top of your pants. 

“Jesus Christ,” He pushed through his teeth when his hands worked to open his belt and pulled his rock-hard length out. He was already leaking from the angry red tip. 

His thumb grazed over his sensitive flesh, spreading the beads of precum and his whole body shivered when he imagined you doing it instead. His knees spread further apart in his office chair as he squeezed the base of his cock, concentrating on his breathing to slow. And then, without thinking, his other hand moved to play the video. 

Steve’s eyes never left the screen as he watched you tug the sheets tight. Your ass bounced up and down with the motion and he began to pump his shaft, imagining pushing into you from behind. Then you crawled back slowly, careful not to pull the sheet off again, but one corner came loose anyway. As you leaned forward, your new position seemed even more obscene - with your arms stretched forward and your ass still slightly lifted off the mattress. 

Steve’s fist pumped harder up and down his cock, he was panting. He could already feel the orgasm building. His balls were on the edge of bursting - but he wanted to hold out a little longer. 

For a second, his gaze jumped to the little speaker icon at the bottom right corner of his screen. His right hand still pumping with a tight grip, the left moved to slightly turn up the volume on the stream. 

Just then, you released a frustrated groan, followed by a throatier, softer noise that could almost be mistaken for a moan and Steve lost it. His fist stroked his thick cock in hard fast motions, the tingle in his body building with every heavy breath you released. His thumb grazed over his tip when you fell forward like a fawn and it was enough to make him burst. 

He closed his eyes and threw his head back on the chair. With a last firm push, he tumbled over the edge, squeezing his flesh as he felt the hot ropes of cum cover his hand. His heart beat in his ears once the ecstasy subsided, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths.  

Steve stared at the ceiling, sighing in defeat. He was in deep now. 

❁ ❁ ❁

“So... how’s it going?” Nat’s voice rang through your speaker and you pressed your phone a little harder to your ear to hear her over the street noises. 

“It’s going really good. I don’t see him that often but he’s not messy at all, so it’s really not that bad.”

“Good, I’m glad!” Nat cheered on the other end of the line and you could hear her computer keys clicking beneath her fingernails. “Anything you wanna tell me?” Her tone was suggestive, and you kind of hated how well she knew you. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, come on, we’re stating the obvious here. He’s hot!”

“Nat!” You gasped appalled. “I’m not going around asking you if you think your boss is hot.”

“Why not? I'm not ashamed to admit it. My boss is hot,” she stated plainly and shorty after a distant ‘You got that right, doll!’ was heard through your speaker. 

“Oh my god,” you muttered, watching around you as if anyone could hear what Nat was saying. 

“So...?”

“Okay, yes he’s super hot and I wish he would just grab me with his big muscled arms and kiss the life out of me every time I see him. Are you happy now?”

“Yes, very.”

You waved at the concierge when you reached Mr. Roger’s apartment building and then stepped into the elevator. “Good. I can’t believe I just made me say that out loud.”

“We both know it’s true. No shame in a little crush.” You could practically hear her grin through the phone and it just annoyed you even more. How could she call you out when she was a mile away?

“Great, now I’m actually imagining kissing him and running my hands down his chest,” You huffed as the elevator door opened and turned the corner just to stop in your tracks. 

“I knew it!”

“Nat, I’ll call you later.”

“Okay, but-“ and then you ended the call as your eyes were glued to the kitchen counter. 

You stepped closer, your eyes never leaving where they had landed upon your arrival. There, on the polished black marble, stood a vase with a beautiful bouquet of pastel flowers. 

Your breath hitched in your throat as your fingers traced the colorful petals, and you leaned in to smell them. This was so sweet! A little giddiness shot through your body at the sight of the flowers. You’d never expected them from Mr. Rogers and it was nice to be appreciated. 

Feeling excitement all over, your fingers reached for the little white card lodged between a eucalyptus branch. But when you turned it over, all of it fell like someone had turned on gravity again. 

Happy one month!

Your mind repeated the words over and over again until they registered.

Happy one month.

You dropped the card and it made a dull clicking noise on the counter. How could you have been so naïve? Nat had put this stupid haze in your brain, getting you all giddy and excited. Of course, he had a fucking girlfriend. How could he not? He was Steve fucking Rogers.

You needed to take a step back and breathe. Those were a few too many emotions to feel in the early morning for you. Now you even felt guilty about wanting to run your fingers down his body. God, you’d even said it out loud - how embarrassing! 

“Okay, girl. Relax. Nobody heard,” you reminded yourself out loud. And then you took a deep breath with your eyes closed. 

“It’s not embarrassing if nobody saw. I’m the only one that can decide the level of awkwardness here.” Maybe stop talking to yourself then. You nodded and carefully placed the card back in the bouquet. 

“This never happened,” you whispered, more so to ensure yourself. “Just move on with your day.” 

Thank god it wasn’t kitchen day - you wouldn’t be able to stand the sight of those flowers any longer.

With your shoulders pulled back and your head held high, you made your way to the supply closet and got to work. 

It’s just another day. You reminded yourself when you pulled your cleaning supplies out and into the office. 

Just like any other day...

❁ ❁ ❁

Boy, had you never been any more wrong. 

Your phone rang at 7.30 that evening. You had already made yourself comfortable on your sofa, ready to binge a whole season of Gilmore Girls, after a successful day of pretending you hadn’t gotten the biggest turn-down of the century this morning. You had finished your cleaning plan, you had gone grocery shopping, bought yourself some own damn flowers, and even showered all before the sun had set. 

But now your phone rang and the caller ID could not mean anything good. 

“Hello?”

“Good evening!” Your name echoed through the speaker of your phone, a - for your taste - way too cheery woman on the other end. “I am very sorry I have to call so late. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“That’s alright, what do you need?” You bit your lip nervously, only dreading the next words of Mr. Rogers’s assistant.

“Well, actually it is not I that needs anything. Mr. Rogers requested for you to see him. Is that possible?”

“What? When?”

“Now would be amazing.” Your eyes widened at her words. Mr Rogers wanted to see you and it couldn’t wait until tomorrow? You must have done something horribly wrong. Oh, god, had he noticed you messed with the flowers? Had he seen you sniff his pillows? All possible scenarios of wrongdoing swarmed your head when you sprung up and bolted for your closet. 

“I can be there in thirty minutes,” you hurried through the speaker just to receive a satisfied hum from the other end. 

“Amazing! Thank you so much.”

She had hung you before you could even answer. It didn’t matter. You looked through your clothes, trying to decide what an appropriate ‘getting fired’ outfit would consist of - probably no sweatpants, so you could find the closest bar and drink your sorrows away in connection to the dreaded talk. 

You pulled out something, you could see yourself crying in and headed for the door.

❁ ❁ ❁

8.00 pm on the dot, the elevator doors opened to reveal a beautiful New York Skyline. Unfortunately, you neither had the headspace, nor the time to appreciate it properly. As soon as you turned the corner you saw Mr. Rogers casually leaning on the kitchen island. 

Instantly, you felt intimidated. He had never done anything to make you feel scared or in danger, but his mere presence was so powerful, you didn’t quite know how to act around him. Especially, because on top of it all, he was the most attractive man you’d ever laid your eyes on. 

“What did I do?” It just sprung out of you, your arms wanted to hug your body but you willed them still. He didn’t need to see how worried you really were. 

To your surprise, however, his face scrunched up in amusement instead. He pushed himself off the counter and gestured towards the flowers still standing proud on that polished marble top. 

“You forgot your flowers.”

“My... my flowers?” He nodded with a small frown, probably confused by your reaction. And to be honest, you were too. 

“Yes... I got you flowers. You’ve officially been working here for a month. That’s a record.” He shook his head with a chuckle and then rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m... very picky.”

His eyes met yours and a whole new wave of uncertainty washed over you. You didn’t miss the hesitation in his tone, the carefully chosen wording for something he didn’t exactly say. 

“So, I’m not fired.” God, why did it take so long for you to register. You just looked so stupid right now. 

“On the contrary.” Mr. Rogers took a step closer, though still keeping a respectable distance. “I think I can trust you. I’m very pleased with your work. You deserve them.”

“I do?” You looked up at him with big eyes when he took another step closer. He was so tall, you had to tilt your head up now that he was so near. 

“Can I trust you?”

His chest would almost touched you, if you were to breathe any heavier. Your breath hitched in your throat when the faint remains of his perfume reached your nose. It was as intoxicating - the way his eyes stared down at you - intense and looming. “Ye- Yes.”

“Good.” His voice was a raw timbre. His gaze drifted to the side, where his hand slowly reached up to lay on your shoulder. You felt warm and tingly from the touch. 

Not knowing what to do exactly, you just held your breath and stared up at his eyes. They were so blue - and up close, they were so much more captivating than any magazine photograph could ever display. 

You wanted to touch him, reach out, and pull him down towards you, but he had just told you he trusted you. Were you really going to risk this perfectly good job for a heated moment?

His other hand came up to graze your cheek with a careful touch and the worry of losing your job suddenly became very small. Mr. Roger’s hands were warm, his fingers almost hot even compared to your heated face. 

So you did it. Your hand reached forward and landed on the top of his chest, one of them traveled down the hard plane of his torso while the other clawed at his shirt collar. His thumb traveled to your lower lip, pulling it down and then stroking over the soft flesh, touching your teeth as well. 

Guided by the heat traveling through our body, your right hand tightened around his shirt and pulled him down and onto your lips. The blonde man jerked forward until his mouth crashed onto yours, immediately moving in perfect sync with yours. 

Your insides were tingling from the kiss when you felt his lips pull into a smile. His big hands roamed your body until they snook around your back, pulling you flush against his body and making you sigh contently. 

Mr. Rogers chuckled and then kissed you deeper. His touch was everywhere, yours too. Your mind was free of anything that wasn’t the tall, built, blonde man in your arms as soon as his tongue traced your bottom lip - asking for you to let him in. And you did just that. When he began to explore your mouth, you melted even further into his embrace. 

No man had ever kissed you like that. Which was why you dreaded the moment you had to pull away for air. 

Your hand landed on his cheek, thumb softly stroking his beard, eyes locked with his. 

“You’re very good at this.”

He just chuckled and pecked your lips once more. “Up.” He demanded, suddenly, he grabbed your thighs and lifted you as if you weighed nothing. 

“What are you doing?”

“I'm gonna show you how good I am at this.” 

Then he set you down on the bed and pushed you back until your head hit the comforter. His scent, the one you’d secretly been craving ever since you started working here, engulfed you like a big blanket. He stood above you, big and broad-shouldered, looming over you like a wild animal. But you weren’t scared.

“You know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” His lips attached to your collarbone, sucking and licking bruises to your skin until you moaned beneath him and your hands clung to his hair. “I’ve been watching you,” he murmured to your neck and a shiver traveled down your spine. 

“I knew it,” you gasped when he reached a spot behind your ears that sparked more pleasure. The thought of him spending his day watching you made you all excited and impatient. 

“The way you stumble about this place when you clean it... How do you navigate the world being this clumsy, Bambi?” A whimper escaped you at the nickname he chose for you. “You need somebody to take care of you, huh.” 

You arched your back to brush up against him. His hard cock was already straining his pants, pressing into your own deliciously. “Ah, yes.”

“Don’t worry, Bambi, I’m right here. I’ll take real good care of you.” His fingers traveled down your body until they reached the hem of your jeans and began to tug on them. 

You pulled him down to your lips once more, guiding his head back to that spot behind your ear that had you squirming on the sheets. “So needy.”

His voice was so low and husky now, you barely noticed he had already worked your pants open and halfway down your legs. You kicked them off the rest of the way and arched yourself back against him just to have him grind down on your core. 

“Feel so good, so big,” you mumbled through the haze you already found yourself in. God, what was it with this man - he was out of this world. 

“You can’t wait any longer, can you, Bambi?” His hands moved beneath your shirt and began to massage your breasts. “But I get it. I don’t wanna wait any longer, either.” 

In a swift motion, he had you flipped on your stomach, his hands traveling to your hips to pull you on all fours in front of him. Then the bed dipped and you felt his fingers press to your soaked underwear. He rubbed the drenched fabric over your entrance, only driving you wild with need when his fingers reached higher to your clit. “So pretty.” 

“I need you,” you whined, “need you so bad.” 

“Believe me, I need you too.” He pulled the black lace over the curve of your ass and you felt the cool bedroom air hit your wet core, only making you shiver once more. 

“You’re so fucking perfect, you know that.” You could only whimper in response when his hand pushed your head into the comforter and his face suddenly pressed into your pussy from behind. 

“Oh, god.” A yelp escaped you as his tongue teased at your entrance, only to be pulled back to lick a long strip from your clit back to it. His hand massaged your cheeks and the constant moaning to your core shook you from the inside out. 

“This isn’t enough, is it, Bambi?” He dragged a strong finger up your spine. “You need me to fill you all the way up, don’t you? Need me to mark you, show everyone you’re mine.”

“Yes, yes, fill me up, give it all to me. Fuck me and make me yours.” You were so desperate at this point. His mouth had you squirming and aching for the promising bulge beneath his pants and you couldn’t wait to feel him raw - you’d let him do anything. 

You turned your head and watched as he unbuckled his belt. Within seconds, his cock sprung free from its restraints and your breath hitched in your throat. He was thick and long, a prominent vein running along his side up to his tip, pink and already decorated by a bead of precum. Of course, Steve Rogers had a pretty cock. What wasn’t perfect about him?

“You’re so wet already, Bambi. So ready for my fat cock, aren’t you? You’ll suck me right in, I just know it.”

“Please! I wanna feel all of you.” Another whimper got swallowed by the mattress when you waited in anticipation for him to finally fuck you. 

His one hand grabbed your ass and the other aligned his cock with your entrance. You could feel his head already breaching, a delicious stretch sending shocks through your body in hot and cold waves of pleasure. 

He groaned lowly and it sent shivers down your spine. “Relax, baby girl. You’re so tight. You’ll be so stuffed with me.”

“I need you de-. I- ah just please!”

He worked himself forward with small rocking motions, each time reaching a little deeper into your core and when you thought he was finally all the way in, he pushed even further until your ass was pressed flush to his thighs. 

You screamed into the covers and reached for something to grasp when he groaned behind you. “Gripping me like a vice, Bambi. Are you gonna be able to take it?” He shivered behind you and you could tell he was struggling to hold still until you answered him. 

“I can take it. Your big cock feels so good inside me. Oh, god, please move.”

“Fuck.” Wet noises filled the room when he drew back almost all the way, just to slam back into you. In this position the curve of his cock stroked your walls perfectly, making it hard to hold back the building orgasm. 

“I’m so close already, sir. I’m-”

“Fucking call me Steve,” he roared and pushed your face further into the covers. “You gonna come? Gonna squeeze my cock with your pretty little pussy already, huh?”

You could only whimper in response, the steady stroke of his body clouded your mind until you felt like you were floating. 

“I-“Another scream ripped through your speech when the pleasure exploded within you. Steve slowed his motions, seemingly unable to move with the way your muscles contracted around him. And when the pulsing pleasure lessened after what felt like minutes, he picked his pace back up again. 

“That was so sexy. You gonna do that again for me? I’m so fucking close.”

His hand reached around you and began to massage your clit in tight little circles and your body lifted off the bed. Steve had pulled you up flush against his chest and watched his hand work on your clit over your shoulder. 

“’S too much! Ah!” You were still pulsing around his cock with every circle he traced on your bundle of nerves, making your legs quiver.

“You’re doing so good, Bambi. You can give me another. Milk my cock dry.” He kissed your neck and bit your skin. “So fucking beautiful, how’d I get so lucky?”

“Steve!” You felt another wave of pleasure approaching, just for his fingers to still on your clit, his hand now pressing into your stomach. 

“I’m almost there, baby. Hold it a little longer.” His face fell into your neck and you could feel his cock twitch inside you while his hot breath licked down your shoulder. “Don’t you fucking cum until I say so.”

“I don’t know if I-“

“Yes, you can!” Steve pushed you until you fell onto all fours again and then guided your hips to meet his hard strokes. His movements became frantic and fast, making you lose your mind. 

“I’m gonna fill you to the brim, Bambi. Make you drip with my cum for days. You’re mine.”

“Steve! Steve!” You couldn’t hold it any longer, it was too much. He was so big, and his movements so fast, there was no way you were lasting any longer. 

“Wait. Almost there.”

“I can’t. I can’t! I’m- Oh my god!”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuck.” With one last hard slam, Steve shot his hot seed in your pussy. Your walls clenched with every lewd sound he pushed through his heavy breaths. “Cumming so much for you, Bambi. All for you. Uhnggghh.” He rutted into you a couple more times and once the intense feeling faded into lazy pulses, he fell forward and pulled you into his chest. 

Still buried deep within you, Steve pulled the covers over your bodies. Every little movement made you squirm and your pussy clench down again, drawing small grunts from the man behind you. 

“You did so good.” His hand stroked over your hair and his face nuzzled into your shoulder. “Now, rest. You deserve it.”

And with that, you let your body fall into its well-needed sleep - warm, content, and without a care for the morning.

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve woke up to the sound of his alarm. He smiled before he opened his eyes, his mind still reminiscing the night before. He felt warm and content at the thought of it. Your kiss was like nothing else.

He felt around his bed blindly after turning off the alarm only to be met by a cold mattress. Opening his eyes, he called out your name and sat up in bed. But when no answer sounded from his apartment, he got up and looked for you. After a few minutes of searching, he was sure you weren’t there. And it worried him. He had planned to order you breakfast. He wanted to talk about last night. He wanted to tell you how much it had meant to him. 

A look at the clock on his wall made him frown. Maybe you’d gone home to change for work. He decided to wait and get to work a little later today. It would all resolve itself, Steve was sure. 

But when seven rolled around, there was no sign of you. And even after another 25 minutes, there was no indication you’d show up soon. Steve really couldn’t push his time anymore. There was a lot of work waiting for him at the office. So he got up and grabbed his briefcase, only to be interrupted by his phone. 

“Good morning, Sharon.” 

“Good morning, Mr. Rogers. I’m just calling to let you know your maid just called in sick.”

“What? Until when?”

“She didn’t say. But she’ll call when she is better.”

“Do you know what she has?”

“I believe that’s private. Mr. Rogers.”

Steve just hummed absentmindedly. His brain already playing all the possibilities in his head. 

“Would you be so kind so send me her number?” He asked almost hesitantly, but still demanding enough for Sharon to agree right away. 

“Of course, one second.” And then his phone pinged with a message from his assistant. 

“Thank you.” Sharon just hummed in response and then she hung up the phone, ever the busy assistant he knew her as. 

Steve didn’t hesitate to call you right away. With every peep. His heart hammered faster in his chest. And when he was about to give up, a familiar rustling rang through his speaker. 

“Hello?”

Steve took a second to breathe and then he said your name - steady but careful. 

“Mr Rogers,” you sounded surprised, and Steve tried to suppress the sting in his heart at the sound of his last name. You had called him Steve just last night. Why’d you stop?

“Yes... I heard you’re sick. Do you need anything?” He cringed the second he said it. You obviously didn’t want anything from him given that you had fled from his apartment before he even woke up this morning. 

“No, no. I’m good thank you.” There was an awkward tension in the static connecting the two of you. But Steve didn’t understand where it came from. Had you not enjoyed last night. Had he only imagined the affection you gifted him then?

“Well... I hope you are able to come back soon.”

You huffed into the phone. “Uh, yes. Okay.”

“Alright, then. I’ll see you.”

“I’ll see you.”

And then the line went dead. And Steve couldn’t shake the feeling that you had sounded a lot colder than before...

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve had taken the next day off. His mind was too occupied to work, anyway. He had caught himself glimpsing at his video feed several times that day, even though he knew you weren’t going to show. He guessed, somehow that you would appear anyway. It didn’t happen of course.

So today, Steve had to learn to do nothing. That included not thinking of you as well. Because as much as the thought of you distracted him from work, not working wasn’t exactly the best move to get rid of his thoughts. 

First, he had tried to stay in bed until 6. That was hard enough. Then, he worked out a bit, read an article, made a smoothie - okay he ordered one - and then he sat on his sofa watching as the clock above his fireplace ticked to 7 a.m. 

It was ridiculous. If every hour would pass this slowly, he’d go insane.

His fingers taped on his thigh as he watched the seconds hand tick. He had to do something, anything. 

The moment this thought passed his mind, he heard the elevator door ‘ding’ at his level. And before he could even turn around, your bag hit the ground with a loud thud. 

Steve stood up straighter, adjusting a tie he was not wearing, but the motion had become a habit. He was excited you’d shown up - visibly well and healthy that was. 

You stared at him for a solid minute and neither of you said a word. Your stare was unintelligible to Steve. He had to admit, that he didn’t know you well enough to read into your silent conversation yet, but he wanted to - he wanted to so badly. 

His hands moved to clasp in front of him and then he cleared his throat, but as he was about to say something, you moved past him, straight to the supply closet, and then disappeared into his guest bedroom. 

He followed you before he could tell his feet to stop, halting in the doorway of the room and watching as you dusted off the tall shelves above the sideboard. 

“What are you doing?” His voice was higher than he anticipated. 

“I’m working,” you answered bluntly, moving to the next object to dust off. 

“Why?” Steve had promised to provide for you just the other night. And, yes, while he might have been hazy from the incredible pleasure you had created, he had meant every word.

You suddenly turned to him with an angry stare. “I’m working because, unlike other people, I can’t just do whatever I want and not deal with the consequences,” you spat and then turned around again. The dusting motion turned a little more aggressive and Steve felt a cold shiver run down his back. Feisty.

Though, Steve couldn’t quite place your anger. Had he said something to offend you? How did the other night play into any consequences and why the hell were you working still? You’d said it yourself, you wanted to be his. And that was all he ever wanted. It just didn’t make sense.

Steve didn’t move. He just stood there like an idiot and watched you work your anger away on the poor dusty decorations of his home. You obviously didn't want to talk to him and he had no idea what to say to you. So he just watched... and watched until at least ten minutes had gone by. 

You were at a completely different corner of the room by now, trying to grab a book to dust off, but couldn’t quite reach. Steve had been standing in the doorway this whole time so he just assumed he was blocking your way to a ladder. But he took it as an opportunity instead. 

In three Long strides, he had walked up to you, reached for the item you stretched toward, and handed it to you. And for a second there, he could see those doe eyes return to your face, staring up at him.

Maybe he had misread the situation after all because your gaze drew him in again. He slowly closed his eyes before he could reach your lips, excitement rising in his veins when he thought back to the feeling of your lips on his–

*smack*

His eyes shot open when your hand collided with his cheek, a fire flickering in your eyes that made him take a step back, holding his heated skin. 

“You don’t have to mock me, okay?! I know it’s embarrassing and it’s stupid what we did, so please don’t make this more difficult.”

“What?” Steve was baffled, hurt. 

It was stupid what we did. Your words echoed in his mind until your voice penetrated the mantra. 

“Just leave me alone. Don’t you have work to do?”

He shook his head with an aching heart. You really had no idea. You thought he had used you, made you a bed bunny like Tony or Bucky would - he’d never do that. “I called in sick. I was so... forget it.”

You resumed cleaning and Steve just stood in your way watching. His chest stung with every second he spent with his eyes glued to you, knowing what you thought of him. He couldn’t stand it. He never wanted to make you uncomfortable, much less convey he’d only use you. 

“Can I ask you a question?” You ignored him, but he could see your movements stagger for a second. “Do you really regret what we did?”

Then you paused, your eyes trained to the surface in front of you. When you finally looked at him, Steve could see the tears shimmering in them. 

“No,” you whispered softly, Steve had almost missed it had his heart not skipped a beat. 

He instinctively stepped closer to you again, though cautious not to scare you away. He’d come this far and didn’t want to mess it all up again. “Then why are you ignoring me?”

“I'm not ignoring you.” It shot out of you like a bullet. You sighed, took another breath, and set the duster down. “We don’t know each other. We live in completely different worlds. There is not one scenario in which we could exist together as anything more than... this. I know that now.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re you and I’m just the maid.” You gestured to Steve and then yourself and Steve hated the way you degraded yourself just because he had a couple dollars more in his bank account. It wasn’t right. 

He shook his head, his hand reaching out to you but dropping just before he could actually touch you, curbing into a soft fist instead. “And what if I told you that you are much more to me than that?” Now he finally dared to lay his hand on your cheek, tilting your head so he could come closer to you and still stare into your eyes. “I like you. And the night– ever since you came into my life, my days seem just so much less dull.” 

He smiled with shiny eyes, afraid your silence would last forever. “Please say something, Bambi.”

“You like me?” There was awe and disbelief in your voice and Steve wanted to kiss it away until every last doubt was erased from your mind. Whoever had made you this insecure about affection would eat his fist. 

Steve bit his lip to hide the chuckle threatening to spill. “I do.”

He slowly got lost in your eyes again. Those beautiful innocent orbs looked at him like he was a different type of special. He loved it so much. 

His gaze dropped to your lips, slightly parted and full, and then back up. And before he could lose himself in them again, your hands latched onto his collar and pulled him down toward you. 

The kiss was all tongue and teeth, need and desperation melting into sighs and tingles - he could feed off of it forever. His hands roamed your body and pressed you deeper into his. Your arms reached around his neck as your noses bumped against each other in eager anticipation. 

Nothing ever felt this right. Steve couldn’t possibly believe you’d doubted the chemistry for a second. Not when it felt like that. But he wouldn’t need to think back on it anymore now... now that he finally had you.

I couldn't decide which GIF to use, so here are some extras!

If you’ve read this far, I would be so happy to receive a comment or reblog. It helps writers reach more people in the community and also improve themselves. So, if you have the time, please consider giving me some feedback :) until next time ~Meg 💞

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Time & Temptation - Roommates w/ Benefits Pt. 2

Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Please read part 1 first if you haven't!

Summary: Living with Bucky Barnes just keeps getting more difficult, and it's been less than 24 hours. Now, he's unexpectedly sent out as backup on what was supposed to be your solo mission. What happens when you insist on putting yourself in danger, as you always do?

Warnings: profanity, mention of wet dream from part 1, teasing, strip club, mention of weapons (firearms), use of firearms, drive-by shooting, gunshot wound, jealous!Bucky, protective!Bucky, some use of y/n, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires any other warnings.

Word Count: 4.9k

A/N: I'm sorry for the long pause since posting part 1 of this series! I got caught up with life and had a lack of inspiration for writing this, but I found some motivation/inspiration the last two days so here it is, finally. I'll be better about pushing out the next few parts of this in a more timely manner. If you'd like to be added to the taglist you can add yourself using this Google doc. Please use it responsibly.

        You really thought an early morning run was going to clear your mind. You thought you could drown the details of the wet dream in sweat and pain and never think about it again. So, you were especially pissed off when the make-believe sound of Bucky making you ask for what you want began replaying in your mind with every step that you took down the chilly trails. Tell me what you need. As you continue along the dirt path, you can almost feel his hands on your thighs. Fuck. You know it means nothing. It was just a stupid dream. It probably only came about because you ran into him in the kitchen last night. If you’d run into a big, purple, infinity stone-wielding cretin in the kitchen you would’ve been just as likely to have a wet dream about that, right? Well, maybe not. But you can tell yourself that in hopes that it’ll ease your internal rage over having a wet dream about your new roommate.

         An hour later, you’re catching your breath in the elevator on the way back up to your floor. You tug your hair out of its snug ponytail and run your hands through it, massaging your scalp with your fingertips. You’re planning to take a nice, long shower, lock yourself in your room and do a little prep for the solo mission you have later tonight, and then meet up with Sharon for lunch. You repeat the plan in your head over and over as the elevator slowly carries you upward. It seems like a solid enough plan to help you avoid Bucky for at least half the day. Or so you thought.

         You’re as quiet as possible when you unlock the front door, unsure if Bucky may still be asleep or if he’s even home at all. Of course, the first thing you see when you step inside is Bucky, shirtless and in the kitchen yet again. He seems to love that little space beside the kitchen sink. The sigh that leaves your lips is a little more audible than you’d intended it to be, and the way Bucky lifts his gaze to your direction and raises an eyebrow at you lets you know that he not only heard it, but he wants to know what it was about. You didn’t mean to blurt the words out, you really didn’t. But the way he stood there both last night and this morning, looking so fucking hot that it makes your head spin and your cheeks feel warm…you just had to speak up.

         “Do you ever wear a shirt?” You ask exasperatedly. You push the door shut behind you and lock the deadbolt with a resounding click. When you look back at Bucky once more, he’s fucking smirking. You’re simultaneously annoyed and turned on, and all you want is a cold shower.

         “About as often as you wear pants.” He retorts. You don’t miss the way his eyes roam over your figure, taking in your slightly disheveled post-run look. He takes a sip from the glass of water in his hand as he wonders how the hell you still look so put together after a run. Your hair is down and somehow looks perfectly windswept, your cheeks and nose have the slightest pink tint to them from both the cold weather outside and the heavy exercise, and your leggings are hugging your legs and ass so tightly that you may as well be wearing nothing at all. His gaze makes you feel like your skin is on fire and it sets off alarm bells in your head. You need to get out of here. You make a beeline for the fridge, pulling it open and retrieving a cold bottle of water before quickly exiting the kitchen again, refusing to give Bucky a second look. Once you’re in the bathroom, you waste no time stepping into a cold shower as fast as possible.

         Bucky remains in the kitchen for another minute, almost laughing at his current living situation. The man has had only the most minimal associations with women outside of a professional setting for years now, and he sure as hell doesn’t remember any pleasurable interactions with women during his time as the Winter Soldier. Now, he lives with one. And not even just that, but he’s fucking attracted to the one he lives with. He created his own personal hell by suggesting you and Vision switch rooms, and now he has to deal with it. He tries to tell himself that you’re just physically attractive. He’d never like you on all of the levels needed for a relationship. He can’t stand the way you work in the field, you’re too unpredictable and too willing to put yourself at risk. It’s beyond frustrating. He could never like someone who doesn’t seem to give a damn if they live or die. So, he’ll focus on that. He’ll focus on that one thing until he finds enough things to dislike about you to make his cock start listening to his brain again.

         You shut off your cold shower and quickly towel yourself dry before wrapping the towel snugly around your body. You didn’t last more than three minutes under the icy stream of water, but it definitely did its job. Your stupidly attractive roommate is the last thing on your mind now. Or at least he was until you realize you were so rushed to get away from him in the kitchen a few minutes ago that you forgot to grab a clean change of clothes to put on after your shower. Shit. You’re freezing your ass off so you sure as hell aren’t going to wait around until you hear his bedroom door shut. Without giving it a second thought, you glance in the mirror to make sure that the towel at least covers your ass before pulling the bathroom door open and stepping out into the hall.

         Fucking hell. As Bucky stands in the hallway staring at you, he can’t seem to remember the one thing that he was focusing on to help dissuade his attraction to you. All he can focus on now is the way the skin of your neck looks so smooth and soft, the way your neck transitions seamlessly down to your collarbones, and the way your collarbones draw his eyes further down to your chest. He doesn’t let himself look any further once his eyes land on the cleavage that’s just barely peeking out over the top of the towel. His eyes flit back up to your face and suddenly, you don’t feel like the powerless one here. You’d think you would be feeling like the powerless one, given that you’re standing here in a towel and he’s between you and your bedroom door, but you don’t. You noticed the way he froze when he saw you, the way he couldn’t stop his eyes from tracing the curve of your neck and shoulders, and the way his eyes lingered on your chest a little longer than you would’ve expected. You have the power here. You straighten up a little and take a few slow, small steps closer to Bucky. He’s frozen right in between your two bedroom doors, so he’ll have to move out of your way or you’ll have to squeeze past him to get into your room. You’re sure he’ll move. You can feel your towel riding up your thighs and nearly exposing the curve of your ass with every step you take, but you fight the urge to tug it down, worried that the action would make you look insecure. Bucky stands firm in front of you, the eye contact between you two so intense that you wonder if he can see straight through you. God, you see why Sam calls him the bionic staring machine sometimes.

         Just as you expected, Bucky turns and walks up to his own bedroom door once you’re just a foot in front of him. What you didn’t expect was for him to say something to you as you wrapped your hand around your own bedroom door handle.

         “That’s twice now that you’ve tried showing me your ass in the past twenty-four hours.” His tone is calm and even but his words are taunting. You turn on your heel to see him standing in his doorway, facing you, and his blue eyes meeting yours instantly. You’re acutely aware of how short your towel is as it barely covers the curve of your ass, leaving little to the imagination. Apparently, Bucky’s well aware of it too.

         “If you were nicer to me, you might’ve made it to three times, James.” You tease, pushing your bedroom door open and walking through it, refusing to look over your shoulder at him. It’s safe to assume he stole one last look at your towel-clad form before you shut your bedroom door and left him standing there with his cock as hard as it’s ever been.

---

         Ah, fuck. Bucky rests his flesh arm on the inner wall of the shower and his forehead on his forearm, watching the water run into the shower drain at his feet. Every time he closes his eyes, he sees you in that damn towel. Every time you took a breath, your chest would pull the towel up your thighs in the slightest bit. It was practically torture standing in front of you when you looked like that. He shakes his head and turns his chin up with closed eyes, letting the warm water splash into his face, trying but failing to wash the image of you away. He clenches his jaw and looks back down at his cock. Fully erect, and from what? Nothing. You barely did a damn thing. You just happened to be walking down the hallway in a towel, surely not even intentionally. You just forgot your clothes. But shit, the view from where Bucky stood is forever ingrained in his memory. The view and the way you said his first name like you liked the sound of it. He’d never heard you say his first name before. Hell, he liked the sound of it. But your fucking teasing? He didn’t like the sound of that. The way you insinuated, jokingly of course, that you would’ve continued finding ways to nearly show him your ass if he was nicer to you? Bullshit. This is all bullshit. Bucky desperately needs either a new place to live or a fan-fucking-tastic new method of letting off steam, before he says or does something stupid.

         He wills himself to ignore his cock in the shower, and once he gets out and towels dry, he pulls on a clean pair of boxers and sweats. He utilizes the ages-old trick of tucking his boner beneath the waistband of his boxers so it won’t be as obvious when he inevitably runs into you again in the tiny apartment that you share. This time, he’s also sure to put on a t-shirt. Maybe him being fully clothed will inspire you to start wearing some pants. As he pulls the bathroom door open and heads straight for his bedroom, he thinks that maybe he should head out for the day, get away from here before he runs into you again and you have the chance to call him by his first name or nearly show him your ass for a third time.

         You’re sitting on your bed, scanning dutifully over a few electronic files that Fury sent you regarding tonight’s solo op, when you hear Bucky finish up in the shower and quickly shut himself up in his room. Your mind starts to drift away from the task at hand as you replay his words from earlier in your head. That’s twice now that you’ve tried showing me your ass in the past twenty-four hours. Of course the little shit was keeping count. And the best response you could come up with was a tease. You scrunch your eyes shut and shake your head, attempting to clear your mind so you can focus on the mission details before you. This is not the time to be getting distracted. Tonight’s op is serious, and you’re going in with only two backup agents strategically placed in the club’s staff, so you need to be as prepared as possible and as on your game as you’ve ever been.

---

         A not-so-innocent little black lingerie set adorns your figure, hugging your body in all of the right ways and accentuating all of your best features. You give yourself one last look in the tall mirror in your bedroom, making sure everything looks perfect, before pulling on a pair of black jeans, a black sweater, and then a black leather jacket over the top. You pull on a pair of sneakers before double-checking that your bag for the night is packed and ready. It holds a pair of black ankle-strap heels, body glitter, your most complimented perfume, your makeup bag, and a couple of choice weapons tucked away from prying eyes. You have everything you need to gain the attention of one particularly nasty underground vibranium dealer, Elias Leveaux.

         In less than an hour, you’re downtown at the most high-end strip club in northern New York. It’s known for wealthy clientele, and it’s on SHIELD’s radar specifically because Elias is known to drop in at least once or twice a month. You’ve read enough about the guy to wonder why someone with so much money and such an illegal, secretive day job would choose to go to a strip club that’s more or less open to the public. You’d think he’d hire a few girls privately and enjoy his free time that way, but it’s like he gets off on the experience of being the richest, scariest guy in the place. So he goes, at least once a month, always sometime during the second week of the month, like clockwork.

         The last thing you expected to see when you walk in the back staff entrance of the club is a text from Fury, letting you know that the plan for tonight has changed. It’s nonspecific and gives you absolutely no clue as to what might’ve changed, but you don’t have time to text him back and ask for clarification before you’re being directed to the dressing room and told that you’re supposed to be on the floor in less than five minutes. What the hell is Fury thinking?

         Bucky initially thought that being called out for a last-minute op was a blessing. He thought it was exactly what he needed to get out of the apartment for a few hours and get his mind off of you. At least until he found out that the entire op centered around you. He breathes a heavy sigh as he stands outside the club, adjusting his black gloves and glancing at his watch impatiently. Sam is never late. Walker, however, doesn’t know how to be anything but late. Of course, Sam wasn’t going to be the one to wait around outside for Walker’s arrival, so he’s already in the club, seated somewhere at a table near the back wall to keep an eye on things. As Bucky continues to wait in the cold, he begins to wonder what kind of role you’re playing here tonight. Are you a cocktail waitress? A bartender? Fury didn’t give him much information when he called earlier, he simply said that the possibility of something going sideways tonight had escalated enough that he wanted extra hands on deck. Specifically, the undercover hands of the new Captain America, a super soldier, and America’s most hated: John Walker. 

         “I’ve got eyes on Leveaux, he came in through the private entrance on the west side of the building.” Sam’s voice reaches Bucky through his in-ear monitor, right as Walker is approaching.

         “Sorry I’m late. Fury really doesn’t like to give us a heads up, does he?” Walker asks, clapping Bucky on the shoulder in greeting. Bucky shoots him a death glare and Walker quickly drops his smile and hand, remembering who he’s talking to. This is going to be a long fucking night.

---

         When the lights go off and the crowd in the club gets quieter than it’s been for the last forty-five minutes, Bucky follows the turning of everyone’s heads to the stage. A few dancers have come and gone so far, a couple had the crowd going wild for sure, but whatever it is that’s coming next seems to have sucked the breath out of everyone’s chests as they sit on the edge of their seats with anticipation. Even Elias Leveaux has waved his henchmen away and he sits at his table close to the stage with all of his focus trained on the dark platform. When the lights on the stage turn on, they have a deep red hue to them. The low notes of a sultry song begin rumbling through the speakers in the club and as soon as the first bit of skin is visible on stage, Bucky’s mouth goes dry and his heart begins slamming against his ribcage.

         Holy fucking shit. It’s you. You’re the girl that has the attention of every single man and woman in the club right now. You’re the girl dressed in the skimpiest little outfit that Bucky has ever seen. Even the bartenders across the room have their eyes on you. Bucky can’t breathe, he can’t move, he can’t think. You make it to centerstage and begin your routine seamlessly, transitioning from a suggestive dance in your heels to an all-out Magic Mike-level move that involves you crawling across the stage, perfectly in time with the music. When your eyes land on Elias, you maintain eye contact with him as you crawl forward, arching your back and flipping your hair over one shoulder. You watch as he adjusts himself in his seat and rests his right hand high up on his thigh, a tell-tale sign that he’s hard as a rock and it’s all because of you. You flash him an innocent smile before continuing your routine and scanning the rest of the club for his henchmen. You count two near the bar, and one near the main entrance. You’re two minutes in and nearly finishing up your routine, dragging your hands down your chest, over the see-through black lace corset that wraps around your ribcage, when your eyes land on the last person you need to be thinking about. Bucky Barnes. He sits at a table in the far back corner. You can’t even drag your gaze away from him long enough to see who else is at his table. Your eyes are locked on his as your skin heats up and the music fades away. He’s too far away for you to notice the way his jaw is clenched or the way a tent is forming in the front of his tactical pants. As soon as you’ve disappeared from the stage, Bucky stealthily adjusts his pants and composes himself before turning to Sam and Walker.

         “What the hell? If this is what she does on all of those solo ops Fury sends her on, sign me up. I’ll be back-up for every single one.” Walker says, clearly not caring to hide his own arousal. Bucky imagines his fist colliding with the side of John’s face and it calms him a little before he speaks up.

         “Say something like that again and watch where it gets you.” Bucky’s tone is like ice, sending a nervous chill through John Walker’s bloodstream and effectively softening the hard-on in his pants. Unfortunately, Bucky’s own hard-on isn’t going away. Sam isn’t paying any attention to the two men on his team, he’s instead focused on Elias Leveaux, who’s waving over one of his henchmen and whispering something to him. Bucky follows Sam’s line of sight and sees the same thing. The henchman quickly disappears backstage, going through a door labeled “staff-only.” This is either going to be exactly what you and Fury planned for or something that’s going to end badly, there’s really no in between. Your goal was to have Leveaux ask for a private dance, or at least approach you and make contact in some way. You need an in with him.

         You’re just stepping into the dressing room backstage when a tall man dressed in all black, one that you recognize as an employee of Leveaux that was standing near the bar earlier, approaches you in a surprisingly professional manner. He keeps is eyes on your face, even though you’re still wearing an outfit that bares nearly your entire body for everyone to see.

         “Miss, my employer would like a moment with you in private.” The man’s voice is low, and he keeps his tone hushed so the other girls in the dressing room can’t fully make out his words.

         “Your employer?” You ask, easily playing dumb.

         “Mr. Leveaux. He’s in attendance tonight and would like a moment of your time, if you’re free to meet with him now.” You pretend like you’re mulling over his words as you examine your makeup in the mirror.

         “Should I change clothes?” You inquire, meeting the man’s gaze in the reflection of the mirror. He gives you a small smile and shakes his head.

         “I don’t think that will be necessary.” His answer gives you plenty of information. Elias Leveaux is interested.

         Ten minutes later, you’re in one of the private rooms upstairs with the most ruthless vibranium dealer sitting on a couch in front of you. You’ve just walked in and already, his gaze is ravaging your body. He’s basically removing every little piece of your lingerie ensemble with his eyes alone.

         “Mr. Leveaux…” His name leaving your lips brings his gaze up to your face. You study him for a moment. It’s the first time you’ve seen him outside of surveillance pictures in SHIELD files. He’s characteristically attractive, with a chiseled jawline and perfectly manicured stubble decorating it. His hair is black, so black that it matches the tattoos you can see peeking out from the collar of his button-up shirt. Your job is always easier when the bad guys are hot as fuck. “What can I do for you tonight?” You ask, an air of confidence surrounding you as you play with your hair and lean against the wall across from him.

         “Come closer.” He says, cocking his head and spreading his legs slightly on the couch. He oozes confidence and masculinity, in a way that nearly makes you blush. You obey his command, and as soon as you’re within his reach, he grasps your hand and pulls you down to sit on his knee. “Tell me your name.” You’re learning very quickly that he never ends anything with a question mark.

         “I don’t get your first name?” You ask, letting your left hand rest on his shoulder as his comes to rest on your bare thigh. He studies you in silence for a moment, ghosting his hand back and forth along your thigh as you stare back at him. The dim lights in the room and sultry music playing through the speakers only add to the tension.

         “Come home with me tonight and you get anything you want.”

         You made the decision on a whim. Knowing that Fury not only has an entire surveillance team watching everything that’s happening in the club right now, but that he also has Bucky and whoever is with him on site, you’re not very worried about what might happen. So, this wasn’t part of the original plan, so what? You were supposed to do whatever you needed to do to gain Elias’s attention because you needed an in with him. You needed to become someone he trusted so that you could eventually gain access to his phone. The original plan involved him noticing you tonight, maybe paying for a private dance the next time he sees you at the club, where you’d have the chance to drug him and access his phone to get the names and phone numbers of a few of his contacts. But as soon as he invited you back to his place, you knew that you could knock out the entire possibly months-long op in one night. So, you decided to take the chance. You stand on the curb now, with his long black coat wrapped tightly around your frame since Elias didn’t give you time to go back and put your clothes on over your lingerie. You didn’t want to risk bringing your bag anyway, not with your gun in it. Though you feel naked while not having a firearm within arm’s reach, you imagine this night would take a turn for the worse if he or one of his henchmen went through your bag and found a government-issued one.

         Bucky stands with Sam and Walker inside the club, near the exit, as Sam tries to decide what to do in this moment. Sam sure as hell doesn’t want to let you leave with this guy, but no one has come up with a good way to stop you yet, not without breaking your cover. Everyone knows how stubborn you are, but they also know how good you are at your job. If you’ve decided to go home with Elias Leveaux, it’s unlikely that anyone will be able to stop you, while simultaneously being likely that you’ll successfully finish the mission on your own tonight. However, by leaving with him, you’re going to be taking yourself far away from any backup, from any chance of rescue should anything go awry.

         After a few more seconds listening to Sam and Walker argue about a plan, Bucky sees the glint of a black car pulling up to the curb in the moonlight, and watches with silent rage as Leveaux’s hand dips down dangerously close to your ass before he reaches to open the back door for you. Fuck it.

         “Y/n!” Bucky’s voice reaches your ears so unexpectedly that you freeze. You hope that he knows that your cover name utilizes your real first name, otherwise he just attempted to blow your cover. What a fucking ass. You and Elias turn around at the same time, with Elias taking one look at Bucky and then immediately looking over at you, raising one eyebrow in question.

         “Ex-boyfriend.” You mutter to Elias, thinking on the fly. “Just give me a minute with him, then I’m all yours.” Elias glances back at Bucky one more time before nodding at you and sliding into the back seat of the car. You stalk over to Bucky, doing your best to mask some of your anger, stopping just a few inches in front of him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Barnes?”

         “Keeping you from getting yourself killed. You’re not leaving with him.”

         “You might be a sergeant, but this isn’t the army and I’m not under your umbrella of authority.” You pair the words with a contemptuous stare, crossing your arms over your chest in defiance. Bucky smirks at you and licks his bottom lip before shaking his head slightly.

         “So, what then? You’re going to sleep with him, drug him, steal the info you need, and somehow get out of his house unscathed? With no backup?” Bucky asks. When he puts it like that, you have to admit that your plan does sound a bit foolish. But still, you won’t back down.

         “Yeah, and you’re going to go back into the club and find someone else to take your orders, because it sure as hell isn’t going to be me taking them.” You spit back. You’re waiting for his next retort when his eyes flit away from your face, to the road behind you and a little to the left. He sees something. You’re about to turn your head to follow his gaze when suddenly his hands are on your hips and he’s spinning you around, slamming your back against the brick wall of the club. The long coat that Leveaux gave you earlier falls open just as Bucky presses his body firmly against yours, shielding you from the ricochet of bullets flying around the street.

         You’re holding your breath. Bucky hasn’t felt your chest rise or fall even once in the last three seconds since he slammed you against the wall. He glances down at you and sees your eyes scrunched shut and your cheeks flushed.

         “Breathe.” He whispers gently, his warm breath fanning over your face. You draw in a harsh breath at his reminder, and he feels your chest rise and push against his own. You both turn your head to the side as the dark car speeds off down the street, each of you quickly memorizing the make, model, and license plate number. Within a second after the first car has passed, Leveaux’s own car takes off after it. There goes your villainous one-night stand. “Are you hurt?” Bucky asks, still keeping you pinned against the wall. You shake your head, but feel something warm and wet against your right abdomen. When you look down, you realize it’s not your own blood turning your skin red, but Bucky’s, seeping through his shirt.

He’s been shot.

Next Part

TAGLIST (if there is a line through your user, Tumblr would not let me tag you)

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[sweetbuckybarnes]

Who is This? - How They Met

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: Y/N talks about how she met James Barnes and how she found herself in the modern world. Follow on from this fic.

"What the hell is going on?" Bucky nearly demanded, keeping his arms wrapped around his companion.

Sam raised his eyebrow. "I could ask you the same question, Barnes?" Sam looked at the young woman in Bucky's arms. "Who is this?"

Bucky looked down at her, Sam watched as a smile grew on his face. "This is Y/N. Y/N Barnes. My wife."

"I'm sorry, what was that? Wife? You two are married?" Sam asked, looking between Bucky and Y/N.

"Indeed we are, aren't we darling?"

Y/N looked at Bucky first with a smile then with dead eyes. "I'm still pissed with you," Sam couldn't place her accent. It was a strange combination of Brooklyn, southern and English.

"Babydoll," Bucky sighed, as his wife got up from the couch and walked to the kitchenette.

"No. Don't you babydoll, me. I had two officers with a telegram in their hand as they flat out told me you had fallen off a train in the Alps of all places, whilst you were on some stupid mission with Steve, they never went looking for you, they simply declared you were missing and you were most likely dead."

Bucky's face falls, realising how much she had missed him after he fell off the train. After he had escaped to Bucharest, his memories came back in flashes - her face had always been there front and centre. He never had the time to sit Steve down and ask him about the gorgeous girl in his memories. It had taken another trip to the Smithsonian Institution - and that's when he saw her further into the exhibition, her arms in both Bucky and Steve's as she looked up at him in awe. Bucky and Y/N were married on January 15, 1941 - four weeks after Bucky signed up.

He gets up also, leaving the blanket which once covered them in a ball on the couch. "Sweetheart," he said softly.

"They told me on our fucking anniversary as well!" The tears couldn't be held back as they started rolling down her cheeks.

"It may be late, but happy anniversary," Bucky says, which gets a watery sob out of Y/N - who returns the sentiment.

Sam walks around the couple and into the kitchenette. "How long have you two now been married then?"

They looked at each other. "If you don't count the time we were separated, three years."

"And if you do?" Sharon asks.

"Eighty-three."

"Seems like I owe you a lot of anniversary presents. And birthdays, and Christmas..." Bucky trails off. "Seeming like I'll always be in debt to you, doll."

She shakes her head, "I have you here now. That's the only present I need."

"So how did you two meet?" Sam asks.

August 3rd, 1922

It was the first day at Brooklyn Heights Elementary School. Winnifred Barnes held her eldest son's hand as she took him to school.

Little James Barnes was terrified, it would be his first full day away from his ma, he didn't know anyone and he had a strong feeling like he wanted to cry (his father George had firmly told him men don't cry).

The mother and son duo were stood in front of a little peg, which had his name stuck to it, he was in between someone called Steve and someone called Y/N (the little girl had already taken her coat off - which her mother was hanging up for her, as she dug through her backpack on the floor).

"Y/N what have I told you about sitting on the floor like that?" Y/N's mother said, cupping her hands underneath her armpits and sat her on her knees.

"I can't find my crayons, mama!" Y/N exclaimed, looking up at her mama.

James looked down into his backpack and saw the small pack of crayons his father had brought back home one night. "We can share mine," he tells the little girl on the floor, sitting down next to her.

She looked at him with a big smile. Even at four years old, he couldn't help but think she was the prettiest girl in the world.

"That's how you got your girl? Crayons when you were four?" Sam asks.

"No, I had always known she was beautiful, but it took me a long time to persuade her for a date."

Y/N looked at her husband with a singular raised eyebrow. "You went from girl to girl with no consideration of their feelings. I didn't want to be put on the same list."

"Not a chance, since we locked eyes on that cold floor in elementary school, I have always been yours."

January 15, 1940

"Please, doll," Bucky nearly begged, as Y/N made her way around the counter at the local diner where she currently works. "Just one date."

"No, James, you can't ask me just because you don't have a date for the night."

Bucky sighed, he loved how she was the only one (apart from his ma when he annoyed her) who still called him James. "But, doll."

"And what have I told you about calling me doll?"

"I could take you to Coney Island," which was shut down saying that was his and Steve's 'place to hang out without her'. Bucky denied it, saying that it wasn't right that he and Steve spent time together without her. "What about the movies?"

"The three of us have already seen everything at the movies right now."

Bucky looked at the ceiling, as he fiddled with his ice cream float. "You don't want to go to Coney Island, we've seen everything at the movies and you don't want to go to a diner..."

He heard someone make a passing comment that the river in that park upstate had frozen over and was perfect for. "Ice skating! That's it, I'll take you ice skating!"

Y/N looked over at him, "Will it shut you up?" He nodded. "Fine, you can take me ice skating."

Bucky let out a loud cheer. "I promise you, you won't regret it, babydoll."

Bucky leaned over pressed a kiss to her cheek and ran out of the diner - he missed Y/N rubbing her cheek with a growing smile on her face.

"You were smitten with me?"

"Since day one, babydoll."

They shared a kiss when the door was pushed open by someone who looked like he had a homemade costume Steve used to wear. "What the hell?"

"Alright, that's it. Your time is up. Tell me where Zemo is," someone came storming in, dressed like Steve, shield in one hand as he pointed at the other people in the room. Y/N looked from Bucky to Sam to Sharon and then back to Bucky.

"We know you're hiding him," his sidekick added, crossing his arms.

The Captain America wannabe ordered them to turn over Zemo, which Y/N countered with a comment about the Captain America wannabe running his mouth.

"How did I miss you?" He flirts.

Y/N raised her eyebrow at him, then looked up at Bucky (who whispered into her ear that they were trying to get the shield back). "Give me a second," She puts on a look on her face and makes her way over to the Captain America wannabe. "Oh my God, is that the shield?" She could see him preen at her words. "Can I have a look at it?"

Stupidly, he hands her the shield, Y/N looks it over, and then up at him. "Thanks," and makes her way back to Bucky.

"What are you doing with my shield?"

"I think you mean, my shield. Considering that it technically belongs to me."

Captain America wannabe looked at her confused, what the hell was she talking about? "Who even are you?"

"Who am I? He doesn't know, James!" Y/N looked up at Bucky.  "He doesn't know!" The couple laughed. "I'm Y/N, Steve's half-sister, and this muppet's wife."

"Wait, so how did you end up 80 years in the future?" Sam asks as the trio settles in for the night.

"Howard wanted to make another Super Soldier after the war after Steve had 'died'," she puts quotes around died, then turns her head to look at Bucky. "Yes, I know what happened to Howard and Maria," Bucky's face fell - she knew what he had done as the Winter Soldier(the war crimes he had committed had been plastered all over the news during his trial). 

Sam looked between Bucky and Y/N as he asked. "What happened? I presume you volunteered."

She nods her head. "I did. But, something went wrong. They gave me the serum, and I remember collapsing to the floor and the next thing I knew I was waking up in the year 2019, Steve's face over the top of mine, tears in his eyes, saying he was so happy to see me."

"Steve knew you were alive?" Bucky asked, looking at his wife in surprise. There were about two weeks between the Battle of Earth and Steve went back to the past. 

"I don't remember much from when I woke up, because I was falling in and out of sleep, for a long time." She says, looking up at the ceiling.

[totaly-obsessed]

can you write for Katie where her and reader have been dating for awhile and meeting eachothers parents and them getting on well :)

Meeting the Parents

Katie McCabe x reader request

-> Meeting your girlfriends parents goes better than you would have thought

-> @ anon I hope you like it! -> Another short one

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Anxiety wrecked through your body as you stood in front of Katie’s childhood home – Today was the day you would meet her parents. With ten siblings it's hard to get them alone, but tonight everything worked out. Your girlfriend of five months wanted to introduce you to her family gradually, and not throw you into cold water, meeting all of them at once.

“What are the chances that you’d let me not meet them, then tell them I died or something and we can run away together and—”

“Breathe, baby. Please!” The Irishwoman couldn’t help but laugh, finding your nervousness cute, but she obviously already knew her parents, and you didn’t. “They’re gonna love you, don’t even worry your pretty little head about it.”

Instead of knocking like you wanted to, your girlfriend just pushed the door open. “Mum! Dad! We’re here!” her loud voice drowned the soft background music out, as two figures made their way towards you from the kitchen.

“Oh it is so lovely to meet you – look how pretty Gary!” Katie’s mum immediately started to fuss about you, pulling you in a bone-crushing hug, before keeping you at arm's length, looking you up and down. “We need to get some meat onto ya!”

Wow. This was a lot.

But Katie couldn’t help but smile, watching her mum be so excited towards you and openly inviting you into her family home. Her dad gave her a firm pat on the back, obviously a lot calmer than her mum was – but he also pulled you in a quick hug, making you feel very welcome.

No ten minutes later after getting a tour of the entire home, the four of you were sat at the dining table – or rather Katie and Gary were sitting, while you insisted on helping Sharon carry the many side dishes and help cut the bread. It was delicious – a pasta mushroom ragout with incredible homemade bread, very hearty and filling.

Everything was going well and Katie admired the way you just fit in perfectly with both her parents. Sharon and you shared a passion for cooking and gardening while Gary admired your subtle and funny digs at his daughter.

“So what do you do for a living?” Gary had swatted at Katie to help her Mum clear the table, making you sit back down again, insisting that you had already helped enough and that your girlfriend was indeed able to do some work, even if she would try to convince you from other things.

“Oh, I’m a Bank Teller. I help our customers cash checks, withdraw money, move transactions to different accounts, create checking and savings accounts, and provide checks to customers – stuff like that.”

Both Gary and Sharon had wide eyes, that just screamed impressed – while Katie had that annoying, cocky smirk on her face as her hand rested on your thighs. “Told you she’s smarter than all of us!”

You could see where Katie had gotten her wit, humor, and compassion from. Her parents truly were incredible. Eleven children was no easy feat and all of them had grown to be lovely human beings. It made your eyes water a bit, hearing the parents brag about their youngest getting good grades and finding passion in drawing.

“Katie here was always a little special though.” You couldn’t help but laugh at your girlfriend’s wide eyes – she was fucked. The conversation had turned from her sibling's embarrassing stories to her own and she knew it. “We once went to church, and the priest raised his voice at the end of his sermon, to emphasize his point. And because Katie here, wasn’t allowed to shout in the house, she stood up on the pews and yelled at the top of her lungs ‘Inside voice only!’ – the whole church laughed!”

Gary could barely tell the story, or get through the impression of his daughter without nearly dying of laughter – and you joined him. Katie could only watch you, mesmerized that you fit in so well, that she didn’t even care that her parents were just completely embarrassing her with story after story until your belly hurt from laughing so much.

The way out took at least thirty minutes, someone always found something else to say. You were sure that you had hugged Sharon at least five times now. “Okay! We’ll be off now!”

Once again you hugged both of her parents, whispering a small ‘Thank you for having us’ in their ears while Katie watched. “Oh get some leftovers, would’ ya?” And with that you were gone again, leaving your girlfriend with her father by the door.

“Do you like her?”

“I think I like her more than you.”

Katie scoffed. She could definitely understand her father, and she was happy that the evening had gone over so well.

Meanwhile, Sharon and you were in the kitchen, making a huge box of leftovers to take home with you. “Thank you for loving my daughter. You were one of us from the moment you started taking care of her.”

“Thank you for giving birth to Katie – and for welcoming me!” Both of you laughed through the tears at your clumsy statement.

You left Katie with her parents, already getting in the car to give them a moment alone. The night was cold and Katie’s coat only did so much to keep you warm, but the box of food still emitted a warmth. Not only because it was still hot, but also because it felt like home.

“I’m gonna be honest my love. Watching you guys together made me glad because I know you have someone when your mum and I leave this earth.” Sharon still had tears in her eyes, and now Katie did too.

“Don’t say stuff like that Dad, make you look old!”

[imtryingbuck]

No Better Than My Husband

~ gif not mine credit goes to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Readers husband is having affairs, so reader does the same

Word count: 1,513

Warnings: Angst and Fluff, swearing? Cheating, Sharon being a bitch. Terrible writing as always.

Masterlist

Y/n’s husband really thought he was being smart about his indiscretions, not that his affairs shocked her, but he truly believed she was some dumb naive housewife due to believing this, he started getting sloppy. At first it pained knowing her husband was entertaining another woman whilst she was at home alone, being nothing but faithful and devoted to him. When his first mistress found out that she wasn’t the only side piece he had she had messaged Y/n all the pictures, videos and messages between the pair, it was meant to hurt her but she already knew her husband was seeing other women behind her back.

The thought had crossed her mind at first to confront him but she knew better, she knew no matter how many tears she showed him he wasn’t going to change. She watched her mum do the exact same thing with Y/n’s dad, he promised her he’d stop and it wasn’t until his untimely death that she had found out that not only was he still seeing the other woman but was engaged to her and the cherry on top was that he had borne a 8 year old son.

So no she wasn’t going to confront him, leaving him to truly believe that his beautiful naive wife didn’t know that when he said he was having a business meeting it was actually him fucking another woman.

However what he didn’t know was that whilst he was having these “business meetings” she was in the arms of another man.

The first time she slept with Bucky she ran to the bathroom to puke up, she felt disgusted, she felt like she was the worst of the worst. The second time she slept with Bucky the guilt was still there but not as strong as before. Now after every time of meeting up with him she didn’t care, she loved the attention he showered her with but most of all she craved just being touched and not necessarily in a sexual manner.

Bucky thought she was truly the most beautiful woman to ever exist, he found out she was married after he gained the confidence to talk to her. The shock and anger he felt was showed on his face when she spoke about her husband’s affairs. Trying to get his head around the idea of how man could have someone like Y/n as a wife just to cheat on her truly baffled him.

Now Bucky lays there trying to catch his breath after spending nearly two hours of happily pleasuring over and over again the goddess that he has the upmost respect for. He knew he was in deep with her, he knew that it wasn’t just sex for him and he hoped that it was the same for her.

Keeping a soft gaze at her ever so slightly trembling form he broke the silence “So I was thinking, don’t give me that look missy, I was thinking about introducing you to my friends? They’ve heard everything about you and they want to meet you but only if your comfortable with that”

“I don’t know Buck, you told me they know I’m married and they probably think the worst of me”

“No baby they don’t, I told them about him and how he’s cheating on you none of them judge you for doing the same”

Shakily sighing “okay but only if your really sure about this”

“Never been more sure beautiful”

They share a kiss which quickly grew more intense. Bucky was more than happy to continue showing her affection and love.

The day had arrived to meet her lovers friends and to say she was nervous was an understatement the thought of them judging her scared her, she knew she wasn’t a bad person she did anything for anyone. Never in a million years did she think that the man who took a vow to love and be faithful to her would break said vow, but here she was five years into marriage her husband betraying her with four women - that she knows of - she was tired of being mocked and treated like a fool so she decided to return the favour. However now she was in too deep, she had fallen in love with Bucky. So she truly hoped his friends didn’t judge her too much.

Bucky had agreed to meet her outside the cafe that was close by the tower, they shared a kiss and made their way to where his friends were. The whole time Bucky was reassuring Y/n that it was going to be okay.

Standing in front of the Avengers was intimidating but when they greeted her happily the nerves that was settled throughout her body melted away. Conversations flowed effortlessly laughs were shared, that was until Sharon spoke up from where she was sat. “So Y/n Bucky says you’re married? At first I was shocked that he could sleep with a married woman but now meeting you I understand”

Y/n felt uncomfortable under Sharons intense gaze, she definitely didn’t like her tone. After shifting to try and get comfortable she finally found her voice “My husband has been cheating on me for a long time, I never intended to do the same but I met Bucky one night and one thing led to another and well now I’m here” ending her sentence with a shy chuckle. Bucky took her hand in his and rubbed his thumb over her knuckles in a comforting gesture.

“Don’t you feel slightly ashamed of yourself? Because you should”

Not knowing how to reply she just looked down at her clasped hands, of course she felt ashamed of herself, of course she hates herself for being no better than her husband. It was one moment of weakness that if she had to do it all over again, she would. She would do it all over again without a second thought and that, that is what she hated about herself.

The room had fallen into an uncomfortable silence, everyone was pretty annoyed with Sharon for spoiling such a happy time. The looks that were shot at Sharon made Y/n feel like she had done something wrong. She never wanted to cause any problems with the group of friends. A few beats passed when Y/n glanced at her watch then bent down to get her bag and coat that was at her feet, her movements caused Bucky to jump up. “You don’t have to go” 

“I do, I need to get home” turning to the group “it was an absolute pleasure meeting you all, thank you for a great time, bye” Not listening to the protest coming from Bucky and his friends, she walked out the room to the elevators. Bucky had ran inside just before the doors had closed.

“Baby ignore Sharon, she’s just being rude for no reason. I’m sorry” 

“It’s fine Buck. Honestly. I need to let you know now that I’ve finally filed for divorce. I’ve already packed my stuff and moved into an apartment. He’s on a “Business” trip ah. I really feel hard for you Buck, I’m sorry” The shiny doors came open and she all but ran out before Bucky could reply.

Four months had pasted since Y/ns confession in the confined space of the elevator, four months without speak or seeing the super soldier. The messages and phone calls that came from Bucky and her now ex-husband had gone off none stop. The messages from her ex started off with him apologising and begging her to come back, he’ll change. Which turned to him taunting her, blaming her for his actions. When it came to their divorce to be finalised he had showed up with mistress number 4 hanging off his arm, he thought this move would hurt her but all it did was make the judge give her way more money than she originally asked for.

Bucky’s messages consisted of apologies too, along with pleading her to meet him. But was also filled with him telling her he loved her.

One Sunday the rain was pouring down heavily in the late afternoon when a knock on the door startled Y/n, trying to calm her racing heart she made her way to the sound. Opening her door her heart stopped.

“W-what are you doing here Buck? How did you find me?”

“Nat”

“Okay? Still didn’t answer the first question”

Instead of answering her Bucky walked straight up to her, touching her face with freezing and delicate hands he searched her eyes for any reason to pull away. Finding none he moved closer and closer till his cold plumb lips touched hers. Kissing one another always took their breaths away, no matter how many times they’ve done it. Reluctantly pulling away he rested his forehead on hers and smiled.

“Be mine and I’ll be yours” Bucky’s heart was hammering rather hard inside of his chest awaiting her response, and instead of verbally responding she pulled him into the apartment letting him kick the door behind them.

~ banners credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~

[aurumacadicus]

69 🫡🫡🫡

There were eight 69's in my inbox I just want you all to know.

--

"Hey, um, so, hello," someone said, voice cracking.

Steve blinked slowly, not quite understanding. He'd heard that tone of voice before, but never directed at him. Normally Thor, or Bucky, or even Natasha, when she was wearing a tank-top that showed off her arms. Someone seeking help, needing muscle. Steve was scrappy, but he also wasn't the first person anyone ever turned to for help. He turned, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

The man who had sidled up to him was wearing clothes way too nice for the bar Steve and his friends called home base. As he watched, the man shifted, and he saw a peek of a red sole on the bottom of his shoe. His watch looked expensive, too. He bet the guy's buttons were more expensive than some of the liquor behind the bar.

"Hello," Steve answered belatedly.

"I'm gonna be frank with you," the man said, glancing nervously over his shoulder. "My ex is following me. I have a restraining order and the police are on the way but. You know. New York. So. Just pretend to be my date? Please? So I don't look like I'm wandering around helplessly. I need to look like I came here on purpose."

"Okay," Steve answered, the novelty of the request sort of making everything else absorb slowly. Then the rest of what the man said hit him, and he straightened up from where he'd been slouching over his beer. "Restraining order?!"

"You said okay no take-backs," the man answered, eyes darting back and forth as if he was already choosing someone else to ask if Steve really said no. "I'm Tony. Can we hold hands? Or. Like. I can go. Is there a bathroom here? Is there a window in it?"

Tony was panicking, Steve realized. He was about to shake out of his skin. Whoever his ex was, he was really scared. And he should be, Steve figured belatedly. From what he'd been told, restraining orders could be hard to get.

He reached out, bypassing Tony's trembling hand to instead grab Tony's chin, gently forcing him to turn to face him. "I'm Steve," he offered kindly. "Hi, Tony."

Tony squeaked, cheeks taking on a pink tinge. "Hi," he managed, shuffling his feet awkwardly.

"Don't worry," Steve told him, trying to convey that no matter what, here, he'd be safe. If Steve couldn't protect him, his friends were here to take up for Tony instead. "I won't let anything happen to you."

Tony exhaled shakily. Steve took a moment to wonder if it was from relief or if it had anything to do with the shocked blush on his cheeks. Now probably wasn't the time to figure it out, he lamented, even as he stood from his stool to offer it to Tony and subtly waved over at Bucky and Clint by the dart board. They noticed, and Clint got Natasha's attention where she was talking with Maria and Sharon.

Good. Everyone was on alert.

Steve turned his attention back to Tony, giving him a kind smile. "So. Can't say I've ever been someone's first choice when it comes to choosing a fake boyfriend."

Tony swiveled his gaze away from the menu to blink at him, stunned. "Why? You're very cute."

It shocked a laugh out of Steve. "Yeah, but I don't look very strong," he offered.

"...I don't. Want him to go after you," Tony answered after a brief, uncomfortable pause. "He'll just feel sorry for you. That I'm your date. So."

Steve bit back the urge to grip his hands into fists. "...Hmm," he offered, instead of 'what the fuck' or 'lemme at him.' He patted the back of Tony's hand soothingly. "Well. If he says even one thing wrong, rest assured, my fists are up."

"Huh?" Tony asked, but Steve just patted his hand again.

[milkibabe]

♥ family camping trip w/ stan (headcanons) ♥

✢ summary: headcanons on going on a camping trip with Stan’s family

✢ warnings: nsfw

Stan HCs

𝒮𝐹𝒲

It was of course Randy’s idea to bring you along, Stan didn’t want to subject you to his family for a week.

He was glad you came anyways since he loved having you around.

“Bring your earbuds, you’ll need them in the car"

You and Stan of course shared a tent together.

Stan was a pro at putting the tent together since he had gone camping with his family since he was a toddler. 

Stan literally wakes up the latest out of everybody. 

You would always get up early to start making breakfast with Sharon.

Stan unzips the tent and comes out with his black hair all messy and rubs his sleepy eyes. 

“That smells amazing babe”

Stan sleepily holds your waist and rests his chin on your head while you prepare breakfast on the little propane stove. 

Randy says cheesy dad stuff like “ah, young love” and “to be a teenager again”.

Stan always rolls his eyes at his dad being cringe, but you find it endearing.

Sharon always tries to make sure you’re eating enough.

Shelley was forced to go with, but you and her get along well enough. 

Stan LOVES documenting everything you guys do with photos.

You’ll just be cozy in your pajamas, wrapped in a blanket, roasting marshmallows when he whips out his phone to take cute pics of you.

He’s totally posting a photo dump of you two on his insta when he gets back home (and has wifi).

Asks you to go on hikes with him away from his family when they become a little suffocating.

“Are your feet tired? I can carry you on my back.”

You two go on the most romantic midnight stroll by the lake and stare at the pretty stars.

He’ll let you sit on his lap while you two listen to music in the dark. 

While you two are sitting and taking in the view he wraps his arms tightly around you.

“Look at the sky tonight— all of the stars have a reason”

𝓝𝓢𝓕𝓦

Stan’s a fucking fiend for risky sex, so this camping trip is his time to shine.

Purposely told you to sit way in the back of the car during the road trip so he could finger you under his blanket when he got bored.

He was so eager to fuck you he told his parents “we’re heading to bed early, its been a long day” on the first night.

It was like 8pm...

As soon as you zipped the tent closed Stan’s hands were already roaming your body.

“Fuck, your ass looks so fucking good in those shorts”

Wanted to give your ass a loud slap but his parents were literally 40 feet away outside the tent.

Opted to biting and marking up your body instead. 

As soon as you got a little too vocal he’d grab your jaw with his hand and hush you. 

“Do you want my parents to know just how much of a slut you are for me?”

You’d of course shake your head no, which would make him give you a quiet chuckle.

“Then be a good girl and be quiet for me.”

He says that but would go right back to making it impossible to stay quiet.

It’s almost as if he likes making your life harder than it needs to be.

Slides his fingers inside of you and fingers you, just slow enough for you to always be on the edge.

You beg for him to let you cum in the quietest voice you can muster.

“Be patient princess, as soon as they all go to sleep I’ll give you what you want.”

His parents go to bed finally and after a while Stan finally withdraws his fingers from you.

You whimper desperately but become excited when you hear him shuffling out of his boxers. 

With no hesitation he thrusts into your needy, wet pussy.

He’s on top of you, clamping your mouth shut to keep you quiet.

Tears start to spill from your eyes as they roll into the back of your head. 

“Mmm, fuck, your so fucking tight for me. Squeezing me like a good little slut.”

That was enough to send you finally over the edge as you release the tension within your body into a heavenly orgasm.

Stan cums inside you soon after that, painting your walls with his seed. 

Stan rolls over, sweaty and out of breath.

You were tired and satisfied, drifting off to sleep when you hear him softly say something.

“Oh princess... we aren’t done yet”

Welp... you are not getting any sleep tonight.

[missvelvetsstuff]

No Benefits

Bucky Barnes x Reader, Bucky x Sharon

Summary: Reader and Bucky are best friends until a drunken hook up. Bucky wants a friends with benefits situation because he doesn't feel ready for a relationship but reader knows that will lead to a broken heart.

Then Sharon Carter comes to work with them.

Notes: Steve and Tony are around but retired, everything else is mostly canon

**Previous chapter**

Cookie looked at the cold face of her friend, the man she had loved for 2 years and rasped out "Bucky. Please." She looked into his emotionless eyes and she realized this was it, she closed her eyes and tried to say "I forgive you" as she lost consciousness.

Chapter 6

Note: sorry this chapter took so long, hope it's worth the wait.

Warnings: Swearing, angst

The Soldat was distracted by a door slamming open, the sunlight that shone through it and the shield that hit him in the chest, knocking him back. He dropped an unconscious Cookie and turned in the direction of the distractions before stalking over towards them. He approached the man who threw the shield and a man in a red and gold metal suit but before he could throw a punch the guy in the metal suit put his hand up and some red mist came out. The Soldat covered his mouth and tried not to inhale it but failed.

Bucky coughed and shook his head before looking up to see Steve and Tony in front of him, holding defensive positions as they waited to see if it worked.

Bucky rubbed his eyes "Steve? What the Hell is going on?"

Bucky looked around as his head cleared and saw Cookie, crumpled on the floor and rushed over to her, falling to his knees.

"Cookie! Nonononono. Fuck! What did I do? Please doll, you have to be ok"

He started to reach out to her but pulled back when he saw the bruises starting to form on her neck. He turned to look at Steve and begged "Help her, please."

As soon as he sprayed Bucky, Tony aimed the mist at Nat, Sharon, Yelena and Antonia. All but Antonia shook themselves out of the trance they were in while Antonia tried to escape up the stairs. Unfortunately for her, Nat and Yelena were faster and tackled her to the floor.

Steve carefully picked Cookie up and hurried towards the quinjet.

Bucky stood, looked around and saw Sharon. He glared and started towards her when Tony stopped him. "We'll take care of them, you go back to the jet with Rogers and Cookie.

Bucky flinched when he heard her name "I don't think-"

Tony cut him off "Don't think, just go, everything here is handled."

Bucky just nodded and turned in the direction Steve had gone. When he arrived at the jet he saw Steve standing next to the medical bed where he had laid Cookie.

He turned to face Bucky "Friday is monitoring her but there doesn't seem to be any serious damage just some bruising. She'll be alright, Buck."

Bucky scoffed "Yeah, no thanks to me. I'll just keep my distance." and sat as far away from her as he could.

Steve tried to comfort him "C'mon Buck, it's not your fault. They were controlling you."

Bucky just turned his back to him without a word and Steve knew he would need some time.

Tony and Sam walked up the ramp with Antonia, Nat, Sharon and Yelena all in front while Clint and Sam were last so they could keep an eye on everyone.

Antonia was restrained and belted into one of the seats with Sam and Clint on either side. Tony took the pilots seat and they raced home as quickly as possible.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cookie felt herself being pulled awake by an annoying beeping in her room. She tried to tell Friday to turn her alarm off but quickly realized that no sounds were coming out. She tried to clear her throat but it was painful like a sore throat when you're sick but much worse.

She tried to open her eyes but the room was too bright and as she sniffled detected a strong antiseptic smell.

Once she put it all together she realized she must be in the med bay.

Cookie opened her eyes again and was able to keep them open this time. She felt a hand holding hers and looked around the room to see dark hair. She squeezed the hand gently and tried to speak, which made her cough and woke him up.

"Hey sweetheart, how are you feeling?"

Cookie tried to speak but on squeaked and coughed. She shrugged and pointed at her throat.

"I know, I'm sorry Cookie. We tried to get there before it went that far but I'm glad we found you in time. Here, have some water." He sat her bed up and held the cup of water so she could drink from the straw. As she drank he explained that Bucky, Sharon, Nat and Yelena had all been controlled by Antonia with a serum that the Red Room had been using on the Widows, to keep them in line.

The cool water soothed Cookie's throat but when she tried to speak it still came out as a croak "Sammy" and made her cough again.

Sam set the water down "Dr Cho said your throat will be sore for awhile so no talking for a few days. If you can manage that, Imma be seriously impressed. Here, this will help." he handed her a tablet so she could type out what she wanted to say.

Cookie slapped his shoulder before taking the tablet and trying quickly into it. *How's Barnes?*

Sam shook his head "After everything that's happened, that's the first thing you wanna say?" he sighed "Bucky is fine. He's been in the waiting area all night but won't come in here. Blames himself, which he should, if you ask me."

Cookie scowled at him and started typing again

*I didn't ask. According to what you just told me, wasn't his fault. Tell his dumb ass to come in here!*

Sam looked at her, frustrated "I also just told you he won't come in here. Did he mess up your hearing too?"

Cookie sighed *Tell him I said so*

Sam shook his head as he left the room to talk to Bucky. It didn't go well.

Bucky refused "Goddammit Sam, I already told you I wasn't going in there. What if I see her and he decides to come back and finish the job? That was his last order and I don't know if it'll still be there when I see her. She deserves better than me. I'm stupidly damaged and can't promise she won't end up hurt, whether it's by someone I've hurt, Hydra wanting me back or just me and my unstable mind. I can't risk hurting her again. Just tell her I'm sorry."

Sam tried to reply but when he looked where the super soldier had just been standing, the entire waiting room was empty.

When Sam returned to Cookies room she frowned and he shrugged "I told you he wouldn't. He bailed before I could convince him. You're gonna have to wait till he's ready."

A few hours later Cookie was released by Dr Cho with the conditions that she take it easy and not try to talk for a few days. On the way back to her room she saw Nat and Yelena. Both women looked at the floor and mumbled apologies as she walked past.

Cookie was happy that she made it to her room without seeing Sharon. Even if she was being controlled, Cookie couldn't wipe the images of Sharon and Bucky all over each other or the nasty comments she had made. Maybe after some rest and time to put it all into perspective she would feel more rational about it.

Cookie wasn't sure what her next move should be since her being here seemed to be traumatic for everyone involved in her adventure. DC and Boston were always options. She could transfer to either one and still do her job without much trouble, thanks to Stark tech and wouldn't be too far away by plane or Dr Strange in a real emergency.

She knew that seeing Bucky every day, especially if he stays with Sharon or finds another "friend", would be challenging for her. Distance would help her heart heal, or so she thought.

She figured being out of his sight would help Bucky deal with his own trauma and guilt without her reminding him that the Soldat was still lurking.

After a couple of days Cookie was getting her voice back and had been released to go back to work. She noticed that Bucky always seemed to be lurking around but bolted everytime their eyes met. He wouldn't stay in the same room as Cookie unless there were briefings where he wasn't given much choice.

When Maria came to her office a week later, to see how she was feeling, Cookie told her what she was thinking and Maria tried to talk her out of it.

By the time Maria left her office, Cookie was sure of her next step and sent the papers to Nick Fury, already begrudgingly signed off on by Maria.

When her work day ended, Cookie headed to her room to start organizing and packing. She would miss her view of the lake and her friends here but she felt like she just couldn't stay with the way things were. Maybe in a few years she could get her head together and figure out how to convince her heart to let go of Bucky but it wasn't happening here.

Cookie told Sam that she was moving but made him promise not to tell anyone, especially not Bucky. She wasn't up to a teary goodbye with the whole team and didn't want Bucky to feel like it was his fault.

At her last team dinner two weeks later, everyone was there even Steve and Tony but only Sam knew it was her last day at the compound. Everyone else thought they were celebrating her clean bill of health the day before. As always, Bucky was nowhere to be seen while Sharon, Nat and Yelena were there but none of them had even tried to speak to her since they all returned to the compound.

Cookie figured they were dealing with their own guilt even if it wasn't really any of their fault but she knew Dr Raynor would help them work through it all. She convinced herself that her move was best for them as well, so they don't have to see her and feel bad about what happened.

The next morning she woke early, left her room packed for the movers to pick up and Sam flew her to her new home for the foreseeable future.

@erelierraceala @capswife @ozwriterchick @cjand10 @wintrsoldrluvr @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @browneyedgrli @greatenthusiasttidalwave @hhiggs @dontworryboutitsweetheart-blog @behindmygreyeyes @pattiemac1 @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @calwitch @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @ordelixx @blackhawkfanatic @casey1-2007 @scott-loki-barnes @selella

Chapter 7

[bluehourbucky]

Question...

pairing: bucky x reader

summary: bucky has been acting suspicious so you finally ask him where he's spending his nights/ more like with who

tw: cheating; gaslighting; angst;

a/n: not proof read/ English is not my first language so pls be nice /

suffice to say this was very vagely inspired by taylor swifts song question

MASTERLIST

part 2

"IT'S JUST A QUESTION!" you yelled at your soon to be ex, Bucky.

You were in the middle of an argument with your boyfriend, who you have been suspicious of for a while, and you have finally snapped and asked the question.

"I already told you. I had reports to write." another lie has come through Buckys mouth and it took everything in you not to leave without fighting.

Bucky has been coming home later and later every night for the last couple of months, you tried to trust him, and you did at the beginning, but whatever has been going on it has been going on a while.

"How dare you lie to me! Everyone knows! Our friends look at me like I'm the biggest idot on Earth! Do you understand how embarrassing that is!?" your voice cracking, tears ready to spill.

The party you had attended last night had been the breaking point, worst of all it was your own birthday party.

☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

It was almost midnight and your birthday was approaching, party had been going on for two hours by now, and you were enjoying yourself.

Greetings and hugs were exchanged, lots of dancing during your favourite songs. Everything was perfect, well almost, Bucky still hasn't arrived and you were starting to think he won't come at all. A message notification gets your attention. Speak of the devil.

bucky: sorry doll be there soon love you

"Hey, you okay?" Natasha had asked you seeing your face fall. You faked a smile and pulled her to the dance floor, not in the mood to talk about it, today was supposed to be a good day.

Bucky arrives 10 minutes later, unfortunately not alone, he arrived with Sharon. Sharon has been a good friend of everyone in the group, and you liked her she was very nice to you, but recently you've had this bad feeling.

Bucky runs up to you, picks you up, and kisses you. It was easy to forget that you're angry and disappointed when he kisses you like that.

The moment is ruined when you hear people laugh. Bucky looks at the time and pulls away. You stand there feeling embarrassed, with everyone's eyes on you, you disassociate. Your hands grow cold even though you're sweating, music making you overwhelmed, but you just can't move.

Only when you feel Buckys hands on you, you're pulled back to reality. He starts leading you to the table where your cake stands, everyone starts clapping and singning happy birthday, the candles on the cake burning, their light reflecting in your teary eyes.

No one notices that they're not tears of joy, because why would they? It's your birthday you can't be sad on your special day.

You blow out the candles, and as soon as the cake is cut, you run outside to take a breath of fresh air in hopes of it calming you down.

You're not outside for long before you hear two familiar voices talking.

"Do you have to go? It's still early." Buckys voice echoes though the empty alley way, where the exit from the place is. He doesn't notice you sitting away in the corner on some empty wooden boxes, despite his senses.

"I gotta go. Tomorrow same time?" Sharon replies and Bucky nods and waves goodbye, she sits down in the uber and drives away....

You sit there trying to process this, trying to convince yourself that it's all in your head, it doesn't mean anything, but you know that's not true and you're done.

The time flies and it's time to go home, and on the way to the apartment you barely say anything, which Bucky takes as you being tired.

But as soon as you step into the apartment you finally ask

"How long have you been fucking Sharon?"

☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

Bucky still doesn't look at you and tries to brush you off but you weren't having it, so you pull him by the shirt.

"Look at me,when you're talking to me!" you say through gritted teeth before noticing a row hickeys on Buckys neck making you drop the shirt instantly.

You're speechless, your hand covers your mouth trying to hold off the sob that was about to escape.

Bucky also stays unmoving not knowing how to get out of this, he didn't mean to,it wasn't supposed to happen.

The first time it happened it was after one of the work parties, he was drunk, Sharon was drunk and mistakes were made. He planned on telling you but he just couldn't. You're too kind too sweet and didn't deserve to have your heart broken.

It was eating him up, but he couldn't let you find out, so after finishing a report he goes to Sharon's office to tell her that what happened the night before was a mistake and wouldn't happen again, he asked her to keep the secret from everyone. However he had found himself once again in her bed, and it just never stopped.

It's not that Bucky didn't love you, he did or that's what he kept telling himself. He didn't mean for it to go this far but now it's too late.

"I'm sorry." Bucky finally says after deafening silence that's been going on for far too long.

You're still frozen in place not knowing what to do. Bucky is the man you thought you would marry, spend the rest of your life with. You were sure he was the one, all the smiles and laughs he gave you, the late night kisses, the pillow forts, the promises.... Everything crashing down on you all at once.

"How long? Please tell me the truth, you owe me that much." Your voice just above a whisper.

"Four months."

Buckys answer doesn't surprise you, but it does break you. You don't say anything just nod and start to pack your bags. Bucky doesn't do anything to stop you, he just stays out of your way. And you leave without another word.

☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

/month later/

It took a while for you to get used to living alone, since you've been living with Bucky for the last 3 years. You hadn't had the time to mourn the loss of you relationship as you were too busy adjusting.

There were unfortunately things you had yet to pick up from yours and Buckys place, and today was the day you're finally going back, for the first time since that day.

As much as it hurt you to go back you really needed your stuff. You text Bucky you're close and he replies with an okay. If you had kept your key the night you left you wouldn't have to see him but alas.

"Hey." Bucky openes the door and greets you, but you just walk past him towards the bedroom.

"I hadn't touched anything. I haven't even slept in our bed." you cringe at the words *our bed* but still say nothing.

Bucky hovers around the door watching you pack, which makes you nervous, not an emotion you ever thought would be caused by him.

"Are you still with her?" you shamefully ask while picking up a dress Bucky got you for your first anniversary, deciding it was better not to bring it.

"Yeah." Bucky says quietly opting not to lie, even though you wish he had lied.

"That's nice. I'm sure that's suitable." you reply swallowing hard.

It doesn't take more than half an hour to pack the rest of your stuff, you pick up the suit case and look around, your heart breaking more every passing second.

Bucky asks if you need help, you deny it quickly and head for the door.

As soon as door opens, you walk out without turning around or saying goodbye. He doesn't deserve it and you both know it.

|the end|

part 2

hope you enjoyed <3

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3

[evansbby]

𝐖𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒☆.｡.:*

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐕 - 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐲 𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐛

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: mean jock!Ari Levinson x naive!reader, mean jock!Steve Rogers x naive reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smutt, dubcon, daddy!kink, size difference, innocence kink, HEAVY MENTIONS OF ALCOHOL AND DRUG CONSUMPTION, mentions of depression, mentions of self-medication, seriously, if you're sensitive about that kind of stuff please do not read, 18+ only, minors dni!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You're done with both Ari and Steve. But they're not quite done with you...

𝐀/𝐍: Here it is. Again, I'm putting up a disclaimer: Please beware of the strong mentions of irresponsible alcohol and drug consumption in this chapter. Also be aware of the depictions of depression in this chapter. Stay safe & only read what you are comfortable with. This is a dark story. This is chapter 4 of Wicked Games. It is 33.6k words. Enjoy, besties!

Steve: Hey. Look, I’m really sorry about what happened yesterday. Things got out of control and I really did not mean to scare you. Could we talk in person?

Steve: I did plan a date for us. I know you don’t believe me, but I did. For whatever that’s worth. Look, just text me back, okay? Or answer my calls.

Steve: Sometimes I just get like that. Even if you don’t understand, just reply and say you’ll talk to me. I’ll explain everything. Please.

Steve: Can’t you see I’m trying? I want us to work.

Steve: It wasn’t just about sex to me. I know that’s what it looked like but it wasn’t.

Steve: ?????

Each time your phone pings with a new text, you feel a stronger urge to just throw it out the window. Oh, why couldn’t he just leave you alone? You feel awful and on edge, the night’s sleep had done you absolutely no good. You’d tossed and turned the whole time, crying and feeling sad about how terribly your “date” had gone down yesterday. How you’d been used. How it was all just about sex for him, no matter what he claimed.

Your phone starts pinging again.

Ari: Are you okay?

Ari: You need to tell me exactly what he did to you. I’ll set him straight, I promise. I just need to know what he did.

Ari: You were really worked up yesterday so I gave you your space but I’m worried. And pissed off. Just answer me.

Ari: Pick up your phone.

Ari: I’m coming over.

No, no, no. You don’t want him to come over. You don’t want to see either of them. To hell with their mood swings and cocky egos and fake concern for you. Now you know there was only one thing that men like Ari and Steve truly ever wanted from you – sex. Fuck them both. If Ari came over now, you’d scream your head off and not let him in again.

You were done. Completely and irrevocably done. Not just with Ari and Steve, but with men and relationships in general. You were going to make a solemn vow to yourself that from now on, that–

A sudden knocking on your door interrupts your thoughts. Pressing your lips into a thin line, you feel the anger surge through you. Who the fuck was that? Ari? He’d only just sent his last message a minute ago – how was he already here?

A wave of anxiety overtakes you suddenly… What if it was Steve?

Another knock. But it sounds a lot softer than Ari’s usual loud banging – which was what he did on days where he’d forget your dorm key at home.

“Y/N?” You hear a faint, familiar voice from the other side of the door. “Are you there?”

Huh. That was definitely not Steve or Ari…

It takes you about five seconds to haul yourself off your bed and across the room. You open the door cautiously, only to find Sharon standing there. Her face is swollen, red and blotchy, her shiny and usually pristinely styled hair scraped back in a low, sad ponytail. Not a trace of makeup on her face, and she’s wearing a loose, wrinkled St. Andrews sweatshirt instead of her usual cheerleading uniform.

“Ari broke up with me!” She bursts into tears, pulling you into a hug that you have no choice but to return. And the guilt is immediate, spreading throughout your body, thrumming through your bloodstream along with dread. Of course, you knew Ari had dumped her… for you.

“Oh, Sharon…” you mumble against her sweatshirt, a huge lump forming in your throat, “I’m so, so sorry.” Sorrier than you realise…

Sharon sniffles, “I know we’re not really close, but I just didn’t know who else to talk to about this. All my friends are also his friends, or girlfriends of his friends, and…and…and I just needed someone who was my friend, and not his, and–” She breaks out into a fresh wave of tears, hugging you tightly again, burying her face in your neck as she cries. You awkwardly pat her shoulder, feeling like the world’s worst person.

“Come in,” you say reluctantly. Sure, you had your own problems, but you weren’t just going to leave her crying out in the hallway, were you? Especially not since you were basically the reason for her tears.

She smiles weakly, “Thank you.”

You manage to quickly type out a message to Ari while she isn’t looking:

Sharon’s here. Don’t come over. And stop texting me.

“It just came so out of nowhere,” she says, following you into your room and sitting on the edge of your bed, “Well, we weren’t having sex like how we used to but I just assumed he was stressed about basketball or something.”

“Wait, the two of you weren’t having sex?” You blurt out a tad too eagerly, but she doesn’t seem to notice. You sink down beside her, “I mean… wow… so you guys weren’t being – uh – intimate?”

Sharon shakes her head, using the sleeve of her sweatshirt to wipe her eyes, “Not for, like, the past month. But I really didn’t think he was cheating on me… But he basically told me he was dumping me because there was someone else.”

Your heart jumps up to your throat, “H-He said that?”

“Yeah. Well, at first, he kept saying the whole ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ crap.” She snorts, aggressively twining a loose strand of her blonde hair round and round her pointer finger, “But I told him to be honest and just tell me straight up, and I was yelling and so upset and finally he said that there was someone else. Can you believe that?”

Your hands feel clammy, the guilt and anxiety churning around in your stomach like a witch’s cauldron. Should you tell her now? Tell her that you’re the reason her boyfriend dumped her? That you’d been sleeping with Ari behind her back for months? Oh God… You were an awful person, weren’t you? Well, you hadn’t known about Sharon at first… and back then you were innocent enough to believe Ari when he said he’d broken up with her. But you’d wisened up to that and still had sex with him at the party, hadn’t you?

You gulp, “Sharon, there’s something–”

“And can you believe that for a split second I thought it was you?” She says suddenly, her eyes wide and unblinking.

Your blood freezes, “I, I–”

“I know, I know… Totally ridiculous, right?” She laughs. And you’d expected her laugh to be all cute and twinkly and perfect how she is, but it’s low and hoarse and ironic. She squeezes your arm, “I hate that my mind even went there. I don’t know you that well but I just know you wouldn’t do that to me, Y/N.”

“Sharon–”

 “It’s just that one time, at that basketball practice when the ball hit your face. The way Ari carried you off… I just got this feeling in my gut, you know?” She laughs again, “But that was just Ari being Ari, stepping up and taking charge of a situation when no one else would. And it’s awful of me to even think you’d do something like that when you’d just got struck in the face and were probably in a lot of pain. Gosh, I’m so sorry for even thinking it!”

She hugs you again. You can smell her sweet perfume, and it goes straight to your head, making you feel sick. Or maybe it’s the guilt eating away at your insides that’s making you feel sick.

“There’s something I have to tell you–”

“–We were together for almost a whole year, you know?” Sharon cuts you off again. “I was gonna take him home for Thanksgiving and everything.” She’s still hugging you, and her cheek rests against the bare nape of your neck. You weren’t used to being this touchy with your girlfriends, but you continue to pat her back nonetheless, feeling like the world’s most awful person ever.

“He’s just the world’s most awful person ever!” She cries, “Like he threw our relationship away like it was nothing! And I was so good to him, Y/N!”

“I know, I know,” you say softly. You feel a wave of disgust for Ari overtake you, but the disgust you feel at yourself overshadows it completely.

“But maybe it’s for the best,” She sits up suddenly, her eyes wide and glistening, an almost daring look on her face, your hand still encased in hers. “Maybe me and Ari weren’t meant to be, and he was just a stupid phase in my life.”

“He’s just a fuckboy,” you agree truthfully, despite feeling rotten over your role in all of this. “You can do so much better than him, Sharon.”

She nods, “Yeah, I think so too. I mean, he’s super hot and all, but…” And then she pauses, looking at you with a curious expression. She bites her lip, still holding on to your hand. “Maybe this is too much information, but lately, even when I was, you know, taking care of myself… I wouldn’t think of him. I’d think of someone else.”

“That’s good!” You say enthusiastically. “Who were you thinking of? Like an actor or singer or something? Or a cute guy in one of your classes?”

She stares at you a bit longer, before suddenly dropping her gaze, “Yeah, something like that. Anyways, thank you so much for being there for me, Y/N. I know I just barged into your room unannounced.”

At that moment, your phone vibrates. Once, twice, three times. More texts. You’re thankful you left your phone facedown; in case they were from Ari and she saw.

“That’s probably Steve, isn’t it?” Sharon says.

You nod quickly, suddenly in a hurry to stop talking about Ari, “Yeah. They’re all from him. He’s been texting me nonstop since last night when me and him had a fight.”

“Oh no. Is everything gonna be okay?”

You shake your head tersely, not wanting to talk about the disastrous date. “No. Me and him are over. Forever.” And so are me and Ari.

Sharon nods, giving you another hug. “Men are trash. I’m so glad we have each other, Y/N. I’m so happy we’re friends now.”

You swallow harshly, hoping the guilt isn’t so evident on your face. Inside your head, there’s about a million different thoughts racing each other. Should you tell her about Ari now? Or wait till later when she was more distanced from the situation and less distraught? Oh God, it was like problems followed you wherever you went! First Steve, then Ari, and now Sharon was in the mix too. And the worst part was, how kind she was being. How genuinely good she was and how she didn’t deserve to be lied to in the least.

I’ll tell her, you promise yourself. I swear I’ll tell her soon…

***

“You need to stop moping around so much,” Wanda says as the two of you walk down the corridor after a lecture. Well, she walks. You just drag your feet. It’s been two days since the “date” with Steve and the subsequent scene with Sharon in your dorm room, and your emotions have been all over the place.

“Like okay, so the Steve thing didn’t work out. It’s not the end of the world, is it? Just get over it.” Wanda continues scanning the crowd of people in the hallway.

“I just feel like nobody wants a relationship with me, Wanda.” You say softly. “All they ever seem to want is sex.”

“Huh? Yeah, that really sucks,” she says distractedly, standing on her tip-toes to look over the sea of heads all milling around or heading to their next class. “Where’s Curtis? He agreed to meet me here.”

Your stomach drops. Curtis again? Oh, you hope Ari’s not with him! You’d successfully been able to avoid him since the night he’d left your dorm room, and you didn’t want to break that streak now.

Wanda spots her boyfriend a moment later and squeals, jumping up and down trying to get his attention. Thankfully, he isn’t with Ari. But he is standing in a cosy corner of the corridor, deep in conversation with a tiny brunette cheerleader. You watch as she laughs at something he said and puts her hand on his chest.

You glance warily at Wanda, but she still has that determined bright smile on her face as she charges over to him, pulling you along with her.

“Curtis! Hey!” She wraps her arms around his neck territorially, plastering her lips on his. The cheerleader smirks, and you see her wink at him before she leaves. Only then does Curtis finally give his girlfriend some attention. You stand there, awkwardly staring at your shoes for the next five minutes while they noisily kiss next to you.

“You still in a bad mood, sweetheart?” Curtis grins once the two of them finally break apart.

“She’s always in a bad mood,” Wanda interjects before you can respond, “Hey, Curtis, you wanna check out the new drive-in theatre downtown? I don’t have any more classes today and I know you don’t either.”

Curtis yawns, “I don’t know. I kinda just wanna chill today.”

“Oh. That’s fine too, I guess. You wanna just grab lunch on campus?”

“Nah. I think I’ll just head back home. I have stuff to do.”

Wanda nods, “Okay, can I come too?”

He shrugs, “Sure. If you must.”

They start towards the exit, and you have no choice but to follow them. But when Wanda stops to talk to one of the girls in her Philosophy class, Curtis shoots you a smirk.

“Sweetheart, why don’t you come back to my place too?”

You frown, “What would I do in your room with you and Wanda?”

The spark in his eye is nothing short of devilish, “I could think of a few things the three of us could get up to.”

“You’re disgusting, Curtis.”

“You sure about that? I have some more of those magic pills you’re such a huge fan of. The three of us could have some fun.” His eyes rake over your body brazenly, and you feel the urge to throw up. So, it was true. All men viewed you as an easy hook-up. A slut. Ari, Steve, now Curtis too.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Wanda is your girlfriend and you should have more respect for her.”

He rolls his eyes, “You’re one to talk about respecting girlfriends.”

The jab stings, especially since it has a ring of truth to it. But you glare up at him nonetheless, “Fuck you.”

“Are you and Ari both perpetually in a bad mood these days or what?”

“I’m not speaking to Ari, so I wouldn’t know what kind of mood he’s in.” You answer curtly.

“He’s in a shitty mood, I’ll tell you that much,” Curtis snorts. “You’d think he’d be over the fucking moon after finally dumping Sharon, but now all he does is glare at his phone because you won’t answer his texts.”

Sure, Ari had been continuously texting and calling you for the past two days, but you’d gotten better at ignoring him. The last text you’d sent him was when you’d told him not to come over because Sharon was there.

“Are we ready to go, babe?” Wanda asks, waving goodbye to the girl from her Philosophy class.

Curtis stretches and grunts, “Yeah, let’s go,” He looks over at you, “You need a lift to wherever you’re headed?”

“No, she doesn’t!” Wanda interjects quickly, grabbing his hand and tugging him towards the exit impatiently, “You wanted to be alone, didn’t you, Y/N?”

You shrug, “Sure.”

Watching them leave hand in hand, you stand there in a sea of people – and yet you feel more alone than ever. You know you need to snap out of this funk, but it’s so hard. Even now, as you look around, you can see about five different couples. All happily hanging out, talking, eating lunch together, kissing, holding hands. Would you ever experience anything normal like that?

You’re about to leave when someone grabs your wrist, yanking you sideways. You yelp, barely catching a glimpse of Ari’s brown waves before you’re pulled into an empty corridor.

“Ari! What the fuck–”

“Stop it with the ignoring my texts shit!” He spits out, eyes already blazing, “I’ve been worried sick about you.”

“Let go of me.”

Surprisingly, he does. But he blocks your path with his huge frame, stepping in front of you every time you try to push past him. This continues for a solid minute and a half before you finally huff and give up trying to escape.

“I went to see Steve that night.” Ari says finally.

Your stomach churns at the mention of the blonde’s name.

“I don’t want to hear this.”

“He wasn’t at home. And the other guys in his frat wouldn’t say where he was,” he runs a hand through his hair, “But I’m guessing he was probably hiding out at his parent’s house.”

That was exactly where he was. You knew that.

“Please tell me you didn’t go there.”

Ari regards you closely, as if you’re made out of glass and he’s trying to formulate his sentences as carefully as he can. “I didn’t,” he says finally, sighing, “I was about to, but–”

“Good,” you interrupt, “I don’t need you fighting him or whatever. Not on my behalf.” You narrow your eyes, “How do you even know where his parents’ house is?”

He hesitates, “I don’t know off the top of my head, but I would’ve found out.” He grabs your hands, his blue eyes looking earnest, which is a look you aren’t used to seeing on him at all. “He’s clearly avoiding me, but look, the sooner you tell me what exactly happened between you and him, the sooner I’ll deal with it.”

From over his shoulder, you see a group of cheerleaders walk by. In a panic, you snatch your hands away from him. Was Sharon with them? Had she seen you with him? No. She wasn’t there. And yet now you feel more paranoid than ever.

“We can’t do this, Ari,” you mutter, trying to sidestep him again, “We can’t be seen together now or ever again, so just move so I can leave–”

“No.”

“Yes!” you try not to explode or lose your patience, “This isn’t right, okay? You and me, we’re not right. Sharon doesn’t deserve us going behind her back, she doesn’t–”

“I told you, I broke up with her.”

“That doesn’t make any of this okay, so just move!”

He doesn’t. Instead, he grabs your arm again, tugging you somewhere deep into the corridor before you have a chance to stop him or finish your sentence. And he’s too strong to fight against, so you don’t even try it. The last thing you want is to put any more attention on you or him. Even if Sharon wasn’t around, one of her friends could see you with him and report back to her. And after everything that happened with you and Sharon, you wanted to come clean to her yourself, rather than have her hear about you sleeping with her boyfriend behind her back from somebody else.

“The supply closet? Really, Ari?” You plant your hands on your hips, watching as he shuts and locks the door of the dimly lit room.

He shrugs, “If it’ll get you to stop running away from me...”

“Well, why can’t you just get the message? I’m running for a reason.” You try to push past him, but the closet is way too small to allow that type of movement. He easily grabs your waist and lifts you back in front of him, making you scowl. “Look, I don’t know what you expected would happen between us when you dumped Sharon, I already told you we’re done. She doesn’t deserve this.”

Ari has the audacity to look confused, “Since when do you care about her?”

“Since I developed a brain and realised what we did behind her back for months was wrong!” You explode, hating the fact that you have to spell this out for him. “You know that she came to my dorm room the day after you dumped her? She was a mess, Ari! All because of us, and she doesn’t even know it!”

 He sighs, “If you want, I could come clean to her and tell her it was you who I was sleeping with. You shouldn’t have to deal with that, it’s my problem, anyways.”

“No, you don’t say anything, Ari! I’m going to tell her myself.” Soon.

“Okay, but trust me, don’t worry about her too much. She’s a strong girl, she’ll bounce back.”

You stare at him incredulously. Strong girl? Bounce back? Oh, he was infuriating!

“Whatever, Ari.” You mutter, once more trying to push past him but he places you back in front of him with such ease that it’s almost comical.

“What happened to you that day with Steve?” He asks again, his brow furrowed.

“It’s none of your business.”

He scoffs, folding his arms over his chest. “You came home in tears with your dress all torn up and you expect me to just go about my business as if all that was nothing?”

“Yes. It shouldn’t be too hard for you considering you’ve left me in tears yourself a couple of times.” You think back to the frat party, how he’d left you drunk, high and in tears in the bathroom. By the guilt that flashes in Ari’s eyes, he remembers too.

“I told you I was sorry about that.”

You shrug, “Whatever. It doesn’t matter anyways. You used me, and Steve used me too.” Your voice almost breaks but you clear your throat quickly, not wanting to cry in front of him.

“What do you mean Steve used you?” Ari grabs your shoulders with a note of urgency. “Did he do something you didn’t want to do? Did he fuck you? Goddamit, I told you not to speak to him!”

Shaking out of his grasp, you feel another flash of anger. The same flash you’d felt surge through you the night you’d kicked Ari out of your dorm room. A part of you wants to start yelling and screaming again, but you know you can’t do that here.

“What does it matter, anyways?” You snap, feeling the walls building up around you. Half of you wants to scream and the other half wants to curl up and cry. The two emotions swirl inside you like a whirlpool, making you feel lightheaded.

A handful of seconds go by and all Ari does is stare at you. You can hear him breathing hard, almost erratically, as if deciding his next move. Finally, he bends down so his face is level with yours, his hands leaving your shoulders to cup your cheeks instead. His eyes, so bright blue despite the dark mustiness of the supply closet, bore into yours so intensely.

“Did. He. Fuck. You?”

“No.”

“Did he hurt you?”

You don’t answer, instead staring at the dark nothingness beyond Ari’s shoulder. Maybe if you focused on it hard enough, you could dissociate and float away from this situation. Float away from anyone else who could hurt you or use you or manipulate you. Float away from the guilt, the shame, the sadness, all of it.

Instead, you feel the wind being knocked out of you as Ari roughly pushes you against what feels like a shelf. The wooden edges poke against your back, and your mouth curls in pain.

“Listen to me. I’m not fucking around anymore, okay? You need to tell me what happened right fucking now.” Ari growls, his face inches from yours. It seems like someone’s ignited a fire in his eyes, twin fires – one burning bright in each eye, and you can practically feel the heat of his anger radiating from his being.

“You’re hurting me!” You cry out pitifully.

Like a hot poker, Ari drops you immediately, regret seeping through his features before he takes a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just…” He pauses, and for a second his whole face screws up and contorts, like he’s inwardly examining every corner of his brain to conjure up the right thing to say. “Look, I care about you. A lot. And these past two days have been torture, knowing that he did something to you and I couldn’t protect you.”

He sounds sincere, but you know it’s all an act. He doesn’t mean it, he’s only trying to be nice so he can have sex with you later, the voice inside your head cackles.

“So just tell me what he did, and I’ll–”

 “WHAT PART OF IT DO YOU WANT TO KNOW, ARI?” You burst, “What part of the whole ugly thing would you like me to relive first? The part where he promised he’d take me out on a date but he took me to his bedroom instead?” You duck your head in shame, “I suppose I should be used to that by now, but I was stupid enough to let myself hope.”

Ari draws his breath but stays silent.

“Or would you rather I tell you everything he said? Down to the last fucking detail? How he basically implied that I was the world’s biggest slut?” This time, you can’t keep the tears at bay. “H-He said… He said I should stop acting like a nun because I had no problem with you fucking me at the party!”

You don’t mention the part where Steve had also said you’d had no problem spreading your legs for Steve too the night of the party. You have yet to come to terms with and address that little detail, and so you push it back to the depths of your mind for now. Ari couldn’t know about that, not when you didn’t know yourself.

Instead, your face crumples up, and before you realise it, you’re heaving with tears. Waterfalls pouring down your cheeks as you cry and cry. You don’t even notice Ari picking you up, you don’t notice him sitting down on a nearby stool and holding you in his lap. Carefully holding your head against his chest, rocking you back and forth as his other hand rubs up and down your back.

So much for all your bravado, so much for keeping up a strong front and resisting Ari at all costs. Here you were again, crying in his arms like you always ended up doing.

“H-He was so awful!” you sob, burying your head deep in Ari’s shirt, inhaling the manly scent of his aftershave, and it calms your hurting heart a little bit. But not enough. “He said all these mean things, and he…he wouldn’t stop, Ari! I k-kept saying no, but he wouldn’t listen at all! It was like something came over him!”

You fist the soft material of Ari’s jersey, taking comfort in the feel of his strong arms wrapped tightly around you. His familiar, manly scent and his soft hair tickling your face as he holds you carefully against him. And despite everything, you can’t help but note how strange this is. Of course, Ari had held you while you cried about a dozen times – but this seemed different. For one, he wasn’t cooing sweet manipulations into your ear. He was just… silent. You risk peaking up at him through teary eyes, to see him looking straight ahead with a grim look on his face, the beginnings of a sneer forming on his lips.

“It’s okay,” Ari says softly, his voice sounding thick as if there’s something stuck in his throat. Was this what true, earnest sympathy sounded like coming from him? Or was it all just an act? You’re too busy crying and seeking solace in his warm chest to really mull it over, and the beefy basketball player continues to stroke your back, “It’s okay, baby. He won’t hurt you anymore. I promise he won’t.”

“JUST SAY IT ALREADY! Just say ‘I told you so!’” You sob, “He didn’t care about me at all, Ari! Just like you said. He was just using me. He just wanted sex, or to get back at you, or both!”

He doesn’t say I told you so. Instead, his lips press down on top of your head, kissing you gently. And you know you should push him away, but you reason with yourself to hold on to him just for a little bit longer. Just till you felt a little bit better. Was that so wrong?

“He won’t hurt you again,” Ari repeats firmly, now cupping your face with both his hands so you look him dead in the eye.

“He scared me so bad, Ari!” you sniffle, “H-He punched a wall when I said I wanted to leave, and then…and then he wouldn’t let me go!”

Ari mutters something unintelligible under his breath, before using the corner of his sleeve to wipe your cheeks. “How did you get him to stop?”

“I couldn’t. But thankfully, his sister was there and she stopped him.”

Ari freezes, “His sister?”

“Yes.”

“Did she say anything to you?”

“Not really,” you look down at your hands. Recounting the whole horrific ordeal with Steve had caused them to start shaking, and you grip at your skirt to get them to stop. Before you know it, Ari’s larger hands cup your own, holding them in place on your lap, stilling them, calming you.

“Well, don’t worry,” Ari says firmly, “he won’t touch you ever again. I’ll make sure of it.”

His face looks earnest, sincere. A large part of you feels comforted by him, but there’s also a dwindling doubt in the back of your mind. A little speck of mistrust growing larger and larger, fuelled by all the times he’s hurt you. Fuelled by how Steve had hurt you. Despite the fact that you don’t want to, you snatch your hands out of his and shoot up off his lap as if he’s shot you. No. You weren’t going to do this again. You weren’t going to fall for his false promises. Not this time.

“Stop lying,” you say shakily, backing away from him slowly. “You don’t care about me so stop pretending like you do. You just want me for sex, and you’re angry that someone else got close to having me like that too. But you don’t actually care about me or how I feel, Ari, so just stop lying!”

He stands up too, frowning, “I’m not lying. I dumped Sharon. I’ve been texting and calling you this whole time. Hell, I’m standing inside a fucking supply closet just to get a minute alone with you. What part of that says I don’t care?”

“You don’t care,” you repeat softly, “It took me a while to realise it, but now I do. All I’m good for is sex.”

“That’s not true–”

“Yes it is!” You cry, “Remember all the times I begged to be your girlfriend and you came up with a bullshit excuse each time? It’s because you knew that I wasn’t worth anything more than a hook-up for you!” You shake your head bitterly, “God, you must’ve been laughing behind my back at how stupid and naïve I was for expecting more from you. Steve’s probably laughing too. You’re both the same and I’m not going to let you or him or anyone else hurt me ever again! So, for the love of God, just leave me alone!”

You turn to leave, but Ari grabs your hand.

“What’s it going to take to show you that I care about you? Because I’ll do it.”

You don’t turn back around, waiting two long seconds before you tug your hand out of his grip. But you do open your mouth to respond – except nothing comes out. Instead, you sigh. There was really nothing more left to say, was there? Except perhaps just one more thing…

“Nothing, Ari. People don’t just change overnight. Especially not people like you.”

You step out of the supply closet, carefully shutting the door behind you and finally walking away. And hopefully this time, it’s for good.

***

Ari: WTF. Why did you change your lock???

Ari: Stop avoiding me.

Ari: If you weren’t so hellbent on ignoring me, you’d know that I have changed. Just give me a chance to prove it to you.

Ari: ???????

Ari: Steve’s still dodging me, by the way. Me and Curtis went over to his frat house but he wasn’t there again. Clearly, he’s afraid of me, but don’t worry. I promise I’ll make him pay for what he did.

The days go by, and Ari continues to text you daily all while you lock yourself up in your room and pretty much avoid the outside world. And his last text makes you want to tear your hair out. Why couldn’t Ari just butt out of your life and stop trying to fight Steve on your behalf!? You’d never asked for that; you didn’t want that! You just wished the whole ordeal with Steve had never even happened, you wished you could will it out of existence.

And speaking of Steve, he still texted you too. Not as frequently as Ari, which made him better at taking a hint than he was at planning first dates. But you still received a message from him every now and again…

Steve: I get it. I fucked it all up.

Steve: I need to see you again. I’ll make it right. Please.

And sure, there was a tiny part of you that did want to hear Steve out. But you were afraid of him, afraid of what he’d do or say. Plus, he’d literally lied to you, pretended he was interested in having a relationship with you when really, he just wanted sex. So, who was to say he wouldn’t lie again? Oh God, everything felt so wrong, how could he possibly make anything right!?

And why couldn’t you just block them both and move on!? You wish you could, yet you can’t find it in you to block or delete either of their numbers. Not Ari’s, and not even Steve’s. Maybe it’s the naïve little girl inside you, the insecure little girl who wants to hold on to the only male attention she’s ever gotten – despite the fact that your relationships with both men had gone up in smoke. And so you settle with just muting and archiving their chats. Out of sight, out of mind – except not really. But it’s the best you can do for now.

And you feel more alone now than ever. With Wanda always preoccupied with Curtis, you had nobody to confide your heartbreak in. But ironically, you began to grow closer with Sharon. On the rare occasions you actually left your dorm room and made it into campus for your lectures, she always seemed to find you. You realised quickly that she no longer hung out with her usual cheerleader friends. Either she herself had opted to leave them, or they’d decided to leave her because she was no longer the basketball captain’s girlfriend. Either way, you didn’t ask.

“It’s probably one of them,” Sharon mutters darkly one day as the two of you walk past a gaggle of cheerleaders, “The bitch he was cheating on me with. It’s probably one of them.”

You gulp. You had yet to come clean to her – but you could never find the right moment. And as time went by and she started spending more and more time with you, it got even harder to just drop the bomb and be like, oh hey, by the way! That bitch who your boyfriend cheated on you with? That was me!

But apart from all that, Sharon was good company. Both of you were dealing with heartbreak (she seemed to be dealing with hers better than you were dealing with yours), and so there was a kind of understanding between the two of you. Not to mention, hanging out with her turned out to be useful in keeping Ari away from you. Any time he spotted you on campus, he’d start making a beeline for you before freezing when he realised you were with her.

“You know, I think I figured out why both Ari and Steve treated us the way they did.” Sharon pipes up one day whilst the two of you are leaving campus. “It’s because we’re too nice.”

“Hm?” You barely utter a word, just wanting to get home and wallow in bed. You hadn’t told Sharon the extent of what had happened between you and Steve on your “date.” All she knew was that it was over, and you never wanted to speak to him again.

“Yeah, it’s because we’re too nice. Bad bitches don’t get their hearts broken, but nice girls always do.” She says, unscrewing her lip gloss and touching up her lips. Unlike you, she’d gotten some of her pep back since her breakup. In a way, you were glad. You’d rather her be happy than you – she deserved it after getting cheated on. 

You manage to laugh cynically, which eggs the blonde on as she continues.

“I’m serious. From here on out, let’s promise not to take any shit from anyone. That way, no one can hurt us again.”

No one hurting you ever again? That sounded like a dream. You knew you could be naïve at times, especially months ago when Ari had first started hooking up with you. Back then, you really thought you’d hit the jackpot and found yourself the perfect boyfriend. Now, months later, it was like you’d mentally matured at rapid speed. Could you be tougher now? Stop being the stupid, naïve little girl that kept getting played by men?

“That’s easier said than done,” you remark softly.

Sharon shrugs, “It’s worth a shot. I think if you act like an ice queen well enough, people are gonna know not to fuck with you. So, like, next time Steve tries to approach you or sweet-talk you into taking him back, just act like you couldn’t care less. Keep a strong resolve, he’ll get the message.”

You think back to all the times in the past you’ve tried to keep a strong resolve. Not with Steve, but with Ari. And every single time, you’d ended up crumbling and crying in his arms. Giving him the perfect opportunity to manipulate you again. Would the same thing happen with Steve? Who could be extremely charming and angelic when he wanted to be? You hoped not…

Turns out you don’t have to wonder that for too long. Because as you walk up to your dorm building after parting ways with Sharon, you see Steve sitting on the stairs of the entrance. He stands up quickly when he spots you, and your heartbeat quickens. Oh no, why was he here!?

“I didn’t mean to ambush you,” Steve calls out when you stop dead in your tracks a few feet away from him. “But you wouldn’t return any of my calls.” He starts making his way over to you, and you remain frozen in place. Despite every cell in your body screaming for you to run.

“Please, stay away from me.” You mumble.

Steve stops short, holding his hands up defensively, “I’m not going to hurt you. I just wanted to apologise.” His face softens, and you notice how he’s got a bit of facial hair now, like he hasn’t shaved since you last saw him. His hair looks scruffier too. He’s also got dark circles under his eyes, like he hasn’t slept. In fact, in his black hoodie (the hood up) and black sweats, he looks about as depressed as you feel.

“Sorry, I’m not interested in your apology.” You stick your nose up and resume walking, trying your hardest to follow Sharon’s advice and be the stone-faced ice queen who didn’t let anything phase her.

Steve, of course, follows you up the steps and into your building.

“I wasn’t thinking straight that day in my bedroom. Sometimes I get like that.”

“I don’t care.” You try to sound nonchalant, but now you’re a bit scared. What if he followed you all the way up to your room? Forced his way inside? Locked the door and had his way with you like how he’d tried to last time? There was no Kira here to pacify him, either… Abruptly, you turn around, trying to keep your voice from shaking, “Steve, please don’t follow me inside.”

He bites his lip, looking every bit as handsome as he always did. Which sucked, because he deserved to have somehow become ugly after how horrible he’d been the last time you’d seen him. But no such luck, he still looked angelic. A bit dark and twisted and scruffy, but angelic nevertheless.

“But I need to explain to you why I acted the way I did.”

A bitter chuckle forces itself out your mouth, fear momentarily forgotten. “I know why you acted the way you did. You wanted sex, and you thought I was so naïve and easy, that I would easily provide it for you. And when I didn’t, you lost it.

“No, that’s not it at all!”

You jump at his tone, but try to keep your expression unfazed. “Well, I don’t care and I’m not interested.”

He clenches his fists, his jaw tensing too. But he relaxes when he notices the way your eyes widen in fear, and how you take a few steps back.

“Please, fuck, just don’t be scared of me.” He holds his hands up defensively again, and this time, you notice one of them is bandaged up. The one he punched the wall with. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“No, you already did that, Steve.” You turn back around and continue walking up to your dorm room, trying so hard to appear nonchalant.

“I’m not the best at controlling my emotions, okay?” He calls out behind you, and the steady patter of his footsteps reveals he’s still following you as you go up the stairs of your building. “My parents, they’ve made me see a bunch of doctors for it, and lately I’ve been able to cope but I’ll admit, something inside me snapped that day, and I took it out on you when I shouldn’t have, and–”

 “DIDN’T YOU HEAR ME? I SAID I’M NOT INTERESTED IN ANYTHING YOU HAVE TO SAY!” You reach your door before angrily whipping around, “Just leave me alone, alright? I don’t care if you’re sorry, it doesn’t take back the fact that you lied and made it seem like you wanted to date me when really all you wanted was sex! Not to mention, all the vile things you said and how scary you got. Now just leave me the fuck alone!”

Quickly, you slip inside your room and slam your door shut, locking it at lightning speed. Steve calls out your name, he knocks, he rattles your doorknob. And all you do is lean against the door, breathing fast and willing yourself not to cry. It was okay, he wouldn’t hurt you. There was a locked door between the two of you.

“(Y/N), please. Just give me another chance,” Steve knocks again, “I know I acted like a complete asshole, okay? I knew it the second I snapped out of it. And I really didn’t mean to say all those things.”

You feel that sudden flash of anger again. Bolting through you like lightning. After everything he’d said to you, after he’d forced himself on you… The best he could come up with was “I was an asshole and I didn’t mean it,”!? No, you couldn’t let him get off that easily. There were things that needed explaining and questions that needed to be answered.

Before you can think better of it, you throw the door back open. Of course, he’s still standing there, and you muster up the toughest, most ice queen-esque expression you can possibly make.

“Fine. We can talk.” You fold your arms over your chest, “But you need to answer me honestly. So don’t try to lie or manipulate me.”

Steve nods immediately, “Okay. Thank you.” He steps forward, as if he’s trying to get into your room. You quickly raise a hand up.

“No. Out here.” You don’t feel comfortable being in a bedroom alone with him. You take a deep breath, “You said that I spread your legs for you the night of the party. What did we do? And don’t lie.”

“We hooked up.” Steve meets your steely gaze evenly, before shaking his hoodie off his head and running a hand through his scruffy hair. It’s gotten long enough that the ends are starting to curl up, kind of like how Ari’s do – not that that was relevant at all right now. “In the cab when I was taking you home. We didn’t have sex, but we hooked up and I got you off.”

You wrack your brain, willing yourself to remember that night. But all you can muster up are fragmented pieces of memory. In the car with him, and you remembered how good he’d smelled. You remember his varsity jacket, and how it had somehow ended up around your shoulders. But… what else? Oh! You remember being in his lap, you remember the car hitting some bumps, and… Oh.

You nod slowly, “So then why did you lie? At the practice game, when you could’ve mentioned what happened?”

Steve exhales, “I did, but you were all confused. I thought you’d remember, but when I realised you didn’t, I just… Well, I don’t know why I didn’t say anything. I just… didn’t.”

For a guy who was so hell bent on explaining things to you, his explanations sure did suck.

You laugh bitterly, “No, you were too busy flaunting me in front of Ari’s face during that practice.” God, how could you have been so stupid!?

“Look, I said I’d answer everything and tell you the whole truth,” He shifts from one foot to the other, scratching his neck as if debating whether to say what he’s about to say, “And yes, I’ll admit that a part of me was using you to get to Ari.”

It feels like a punch to your gut. You’d suspected it, but the fact that he was so readily confirming it made it all the worse. With just a few words, Steve had confirmed all your insecurities. Not only did he not want to date you, not only was he just using you for sex… Oh no, as if that wasn’t enough, he’d also been using you as a pawn in whatever sick, longstanding rivalry he had with Ari.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry…

“Please don’t cry,” Steve steps forward, closing the gap between the two of you. And you’re so distraught by the bomb he’s dropped on you, that you don’t even try to run away from him. Instead, you lean against the door, breathing heavily, trying to keep your tears at bay.

He continues, “This is me being honest, alright? Something Ari never is with you. And yes, I wanted him to be jealous, I wanted to get a rise out of him, so I flaunted you in front of him. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t care about you. I still care about you.”

“How can you possibly say you care about me after everything you’ve just admitted?” You manage to get out as you try to get your breathing back into order.

“Because I do care! I think I’d know what I’m feeling better than you would!” He’s growing visibly frustrated. “Fuck, sorry. I’m so bad at explaining shit.” He smacks his forehead hard several times and yet you don’t even have it in you to flinch.

“Goddamit, look, I’ll start from the beginning.” He takes a few, gulping breaths. “When I first saw you at the party, it had nothing to do with Ari, I didn’t even know that you knew him. I approached you that night because you looked cute and lost, and I liked how feisty and sweet you were–”

“That’s a lie!” You wipe at your eyes roughly, “That’s a fucking lie, Steve. Aren’t you forgetting what you said last time you saw me? You knew what Ari and I did that night, you called me a slut for spreading my legs for him in the middle of a party! And you expected I’d do the same for you.”

“No, that’s not it at all!”

He gulps as if trying to get his breathing even once more, and you realise that’s his way of calming himself down. And you can tell that he’s trying, that he’s trying so hard not to have a meltdown like last time, and you just look at him apprehensively. You know you could back away at any moment, slam the door in his face again and lock it and be done with him. And yet, your feet remain planted in place, as if a part of you just has to hear him out.

“I’m sorry I called you a slut. It’s all a big fucking blank in my head, like I blacked out and said all those things. And I never saw you and Ari fucking at the party or anything like that. I only found that out days later through the grapevine. But I shouldn’t have used it against you, that was wrong of me. I’m sorry I fucked it all up by saying that. You didn’t deserve it.”

You shake your head but he hurriedly continues, “I was always going to ask you out, Ari or no Ari. It’s only when I saw how jealous he got when he saw you with me, that I realised how much he liked you. That he liked you more than he liked his own girlfriend. That’s when I realised I could be with you and get back at him at the same time.”

Get back at him!? For what? Did you even care, at this point?

Anger. Fear. Confusion. Pure fucking discombobulation. That’s what you feel. So much so, that you don’t even know what to say or how to act.

Steve takes your lack of response as his cue, moving forward and reach out to cup the side of your face slowly. And you fucking hate how soft and warm his hand feels, how it’s bigger than your whole head yet feels gentle at the same time. Gentle, when the last time he’d had his hands on you, he’d been holding you down on his bed while he tried to force himself on you.

“But I like you too,” Steve says quietly, almost like a whisper, “I like you more than he ever could. And whenever I like something, whenever I have something good in my life, I always fuck it up. But this time, for once in my life I want to make things right.”

“I kept telling you to stop,” you whisper, squeezing your eyes shut as the memories from that night barge their way back into your head. “Y-You ripped my dress.”

“I’m so sorry, baby girl.”

“You wouldn’t stop, Steve. It’s like you weren’t there, like something came over you and you weren’t there anymore.”

He nods fervently, his fingers stroking your cheek, “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I can’t help that I’m like this, I really fucking wish I could be normal and react normally to things like how other people do. I wish it more than anything in the fucking world.”

It’s like he’s a completely different man from the one you’d first met and thought you knew. The man who’d been so shrouded in mystery, oozing with confidence and charm. His intense aura, the smoothness with how he’d spoken to you in the past. But in this moment, it’s like all of that had melted away. And here he was, stripped back. Rough round the edges with bags under his eyes, an earnest look on his face. And this time when you look into his eyes, for a moment it’s like you really see him; you see someone fighting to be normal, desperate for another chance. Oh, should you…?

And then you blink. And there it is again: Steve, the very same man, saying all those vile things to you. All because you wouldn’t fuck him. Him ripping your dress, him holding you down. Him losing his temper. Him punching the wall. The way he’d held you so hard, not letting you leave. That dark, faraway look in his eyes. How scared you’d been… And here you were, letting him cup your face and speak all tenderly with you!?

What if he got like that again?

It’s like a lash of electricity jolts through you. You push Steve away hard.

“Listen to me carefully, Steve, because I’m not gonna say this again. You’re not who I thought you were. You lied about what happened on the night we met, and you lied about your intentions with me. It doesn’t matter if you say you wanted to date me, because your past actions speak louder than whatever words you’re saying now.” You take a deep breath, “That’s why I want you to leave me alone. Forever. Just walk out right now and never look back. Because I’m done with you. And I really, truly mean it.”

He freezes, an unreadable expression on his face. A myriad of emotions flitter through his eyes. Shock, sadness, anger. Disbelief. Resignation. And then…

“And what about Ari?” He says quietly, “You’re choosing him?”

“No, I–”

Steve spits out a bitter laugh, as if he wasn’t gently cupping your face and promising you everything just five seconds ago.

“You don’t know him, (Y/N). Okay fine, I wasn’t completely honest with you and I guess that means I’ve fucked things up between us forever. But you think Ari hasn’t lied to you?”

“I know he’s lied–”

“YOU DON’T KNOW THE HALF OF IT!” Out of nowhere, he raises his voice. And it cuts you like a sword, reverberating off the walls. You flinch at the booming loudness of his words, the aggressiveness back on his angelic face and now he’s scaring you again. “You don’t know what he’s done, okay!?”

“You’re scaring me.”

You try to say it calmly, but your voice breaks right at the end. Steve blinks rapidly, several times. Breathing hard, he looks down at his fingers which are enclosed tightly around your arm. Just like that day in his room. Like a hot poker, he drops it immediately. And again, it’s like he’s waking up from some sort of a momentary trance. Or rather, a momentary wave of anger.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats in a low tone, “but if you knew the things he’s done, you wouldn’t have picked him–”

“I HAVEN’T PICKED HIM!” It’s your turn to explode. “I didn’t pick him, Steve. This isn’t about picking anyone. I’m done with you, and I’m done with Ari too. I’m picking neither of you. Goodbye.”

You turn around and slam your door shut before he can get another word out.

***

“It’s like, a fundraising gala type thing held at the Hilton. The money raised gets split down the middle, half going towards the basketball team and half towards the cheerleaders,” Sharon explains, twirling a piece of her blonde hair around her finger. “Which, by the way, I think is totally lame, because the basketball team doesn’t even need any more funding. Unlike the cheerleaders.”

She swivels around in your desk chair, her sock clad feet waving around in the air. Outside, the sun sparkles and a gentle breeze flows in through your window. The weather had been great lately, as if the atmosphere knew you’d finished the final chapter of the Ari and Steve saga and closed the book on both of them. As if nature itself was willing you to go outside and begin your new chapter, one where you were sexy and single and thriving.

So then why could you still not find it in you to step outside of your room on most days?

“I’ve been on the planning and decorating committee for the Athletic Society’s Annual Gala for the past two years,” Sharon continues, “it’s like, one of the biggest events of the year. All these important sports execs and school alumni show up, not to mention half the college. Wanda, I’m guessing you’re going with Curtis, right?”

“Huh?” Wanda glances up from her phone for a split second, looking as if she has not the slightest clue what Sharon is on about. Burying her nose back into her screen, her acrylics start tapping ferociously. And it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to guess who she’s texting. In fact, you were surprised when she’d showed up alongside Sharon outside your dorm room this morning. It was very hard to pin down Wanda lately, since all her time was devoted to her boyfriend.

Sharon raises an eyebrow before shifting her attention back to you, “Well anyways, I think this would be a great opportunity for you to get out of your funk, Y/N. We could go together! As friends, obviously.” She adds hastily.

You manage to muster up a smile, “I don’t know…”

“Oh, come on! It’s been weeks since you ended things with Steve!” Sharon says, and you no longer shiver when his name is mentioned. It’s like the last confrontation you had with him cleared up the fog in your head a little bit. It still depressed you to the core, to know that you’d been used, but at least you didn’t flinch at his name anymore. That was something.

He’d also stopped texting you at all anymore. Which you should be happy about, and yet you still found yourself looking at your chat with him. God, what was wrong with you!? He’d finally left you alone just like how you’d wanted him to, and yet a part of you still felt like it was yearning for him.

“And I know how much you love dressing up and doing your makeup. Hey, we could even go shopping together for dresses!” The blonde claps her hands, clearly unaware of your current inner turmoil as she works herself up into a frenzy.

“We could make it into a proper girl’s night,” She sits on the other end of your bed with a bounce, “Hey, Wanda, why don’t you get ready with us too? You could always just meet Curtis there.”

Wanda scoffs, “Uh, no. I think I’ll go with my boyfriend, thank you very much.”

Sharon rolls her eyes, “Ugh. Fuck boyfriends. I was gonna go with Ari, but that’s obviously not happening anymore. Plus, a girl’s night sounds a lot more fun.”

Your poor, gullible, traitorous heart jolts. “Ari’s gonna be there?”

Unlike Steve, Ari was still texting you and trying to somehow see you in person. You’d successfully avoided him since the supply closet meeting. And yet, you couldn’t stop thinking about him either. God, were you just incapable of not thinking about the two fuckboys who had fucked your entire life up!?

“Yep, but it won’t bother me, I promise.” Sharon says determinedly, “The banquet hall is huge, so I’ll easily just avoid him. He’s probably gonna be super busy, anyways. Word has it that they’re giving him the Basketball MVP award this year.”

“Oh,” you breathe, before quickly clearing your throat, “I don’t know, Sharon. It sounds like fun, but–”

“Curtis says that he’s going to the gala with the basketball team, and that no one else is bringing dates,” Wanda interrupts you as she reads the latest text from her boyfriend. Finally, she looks up, “I guess I’ll go with you girls, then.”

“Great!” Sharon cheers, “You’re in too, right, Y/N?”

You smile, not really knowing what to say. Being in the same banquet hall as Ari and Sharon? At the same time? That was just trouble waiting to happen.

But is this how you were going to spend the rest of the college year? Letting your feelings towards Ari dictate where you went and didn’t go? You think about the old you, the one before Ari or Steve or anyone. The one who loved to dress up and go out to have fun. Before Wanda had got a boyfriend, the two of you used to go out all the time. Another girls’ night wouldn’t harm anyone, would it?

Sharon senses your hesitation, “Come on,” she urges, “It’s not like Steve’s even gonna be there. It’s strictly a St. Andrews’ event.”

You bite your lip. You doubted you’d ever see Steve again. Clearly, since he no longer texted you either. And a part of you is bittersweet as you think about what could have been. Absentmindedly, your eyes divert to your desk chair, where his blue and white varsity jacket still lies. You hadn’t even thought to throw it away. You bet it still smells like him…

Oh God, you had to get over him. Get over both of them and get the fuck out of this funk you were in. So what if Ari would be there too? This was your chance to prove to yourself that his presence didn’t make a difference in how you lived your life.

You take a deep breath, “Okay. I’ll go.”

***

 PART II

“Open up, sleepyhead. I’m not leaving and I’ll camp outside your door if you don’t open it.”

You’d woken up the next day to a loud knocking on your door. And you’d tried to ignore him. You really had. It was so much easier to just remain in bed, rotting and feeling sorry for yourself despite the promise you’d made yourself to get over the two men who’d betrayed your trust, and get out of the funk you were in. But the knocking was incessant, going from soft-knuckled raps to full on banging. You were sure he’d wake up your entire building, and then you’d have to pay a noise fine.

That’s why I’m opening the door, you think to yourself. Not because I actually want to see him.

And there’s Ari, standing outside your door with a picnic basket under his arm. And he looks kind of funny, his big athletic self holding such a dainty little thing. He also looks extremely pleased with himself, and you don’t even have the energy within you to argue with him or tell him to leave. You and him had gone non-contact ever since the confrontation inside the supply closet. Or rather, you’d gone non-contact whilst Ari tried to find ways to talk to you. He couldn’t corner you on campus anymore because you were usually with Sharon, and you’d changed your locks so he couldn’t exactly barge into your dorm room like how he used to.

“Go away, Ari.”

“Hey, nice to see you too. I come bearing food, because I know you haven’t eaten. And don’t ask me how I know, I just know.” Ari says breezily, and you frown at how chipper he’s acting. As if the last time you’d seen him you hadn’t stormed away and told him the two of you could never see each other again.

He follows you inside, and you quickly swipe Steve’s varsity jacket under your desk so he doesn’t see it. You don’t know why you still haven’t thrown it out but you really can’t be bothered to get into another fight with Ari over it.

Earlier in the day, Sharon had texted you asking if you’d wanted to hang out. You’d declined, finding the comfortability of your bed and the prospect of watching old reruns of trashy reality television much more interesting. What you hadn’t expected was Ari Levinson of all people showing up at your door, however. Although, you’re not too surprised. He was still texting you nonstop, wanting to show you how he’d “changed.”

Ari plops the picnic basket on top of your desk, and you sigh, sitting down on your desk chair while he grabs a stool. You already know how this is going to go. He’d tell you to open it, you’d say no, he’d say yes, you’d say no again. Then he’d open it and make you see the contents anyways. You decide to stop wasting either of your time and look inside the basket yourself.

“Cheese sandwiches?”

“Uh huh. And don’t knock it till you try one, sweetheart. My mom makes these for me.” Ari winks before flashing you a smile. And doesn’t contain even a hint of his usual cockiness or smugness – it’s just a regular little smile that makes his eyes light up all pretty too. And you’re not used to it at all, it looks almost displaced on his face. Was he being genuine? You can’t even tell anymore. But probably not.

You pick one up and eye it carefully, and your heart can’t help but throb at the thought of him standing in his kitchen making it for you. Big, bad basketball captain fuckboy Ari Levinson carefully cutting the sandwich into little triangles and packing it up for you in this little picnic basket. How had Ari even gotten hold of a picnic basket to begin with?

“So, it’s a family recipe?” You take a cautious bite.

“Yep. Passed down from generation to generation. Don’t ask me how you make it because it’s a Levinson family secret,” he grabs a sandwich of his own and wolfs it down in two bites, “I mean, you could always become a Levinson yourself and have my kid, then I’d tell you.”

Your cheeks heat up. Oh, a few weeks ago he didn’t even want a relationship with you and now he was joking about marriage and kids?! Would you ever understand him?

“It must be some recipe,” you remark, trying your best to keep your tone even and unamused. Instead of looking at him, you observe the sandwich. It tastes good – he’s used some type of expensive artisan bread and fancy cheese. A step above your average grilled cheese, and it tastes even better on an empty stomach since he was right, you hadn’t eaten anything since last night.

“It is. Have another one,” he thrusts another sandwich in your hand.

Your frown, “Ari, stop, I don’t want–”

“You haven’t eaten all day, (Y/N).” His tone drops, growing more serious.

“Well, stop acting like you care!” You shoot back.

But Ari looks unperturbed as he helps himself to a third sandwich (he was going through them remarkably fast), “I do care.”

“You don’t.”

“I do.”

“You don’t.”

“Yes, I fucking do,” he says, the slight sharpness in his voice taking you aback. “What other girl have I cooked for and lugged a fucking picnic basket halfway across campus for?”

You settle back begrudgingly, taking another bite out of the sandwich, “I’d hardly call this cooking.”

You know you sound mean and bitter, but it’s like you can’t help it. Like there’s a deep black hole filled with anger still swirling within you. Anger at both Ari and Steve and you don’t know how to sort through it or make it go away.

“Oh yeah? Well, you’ve never cooked for me so I’d say you’re hardly an expert on the subject.” Ari shoots back, grabbing another sandwich from the picnic basket as well as a can of soda. “You want a coke?”

“No.”

You start tearing your sandwich into tiny pieces just so you have something else to focus on and you don’t have to look at his face. Because you’re afraid this newfound earnesty of his, afraid it would reel you back in hook, line and sinker. Afraid he was just putting on an act to convince you he’d “changed.” That’s also why you’re being cold – you can’t let your walls down with him again. Not this time. Not when Sharon was literally your friend now.

“So, I was thinking we could catch a movie after we eat,” Ari continues talking all casually as if the majority of the conversation so far hasn’t been extremely one-sided. “Have you seen the new Godzilla vs Kong? Probably not, you’re not into stuff like that.” He pauses only to consume his sandwich in two huge bites, before grabbing another one. His voracious appetite almost makes you smile. Almost. The only other times you’d seen him look this starved was when he was going down on you…

No, stop! Don’t think about that!

“Sure, we could watch some girly movie instead, but you’d have to pick it because I have no idea about shit like that, obviously–”

“I told you; we can’t go anywhere that Sharon or someone might see us. Besides, the last thing I want to do is go out with you. In fact, you can show yourself out now because I’m gonna go back to bed–”

Ari slams his coke can down on your desk with a loud clunk. You jump, before narrowing your eyes at him. First, he practically broke into your room, then forced you to eat his dumb sandwiches. Now he was making obnoxious noises? Oh, you were just about done with him–

“That’s it.” he grunts, standing up to his full height. You gape up at him, suddenly nervous. You barely have the chance to yelp before he grabs your arm, yanking you up with him.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?!”

He lifts you up off the ground with ease, throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. You start pounding on his back immediately, but you only hear him snort in return.

“Put me down right now, Ari! I’m not in the mood for this! Put me down!”

“I gave you a pass to be a little sassy, but you need to remember who’s in charge.” He starts walking across the room. And you may as well have been an insect on his back with how unbothered he was by you wiggling and trying to fight out of his grip. Oh god, what was he going to do?!

Panic bubbles up in your chest, your heartrate increasing tenfold in about five seconds flat. You struggle harder against him, before realising there’s no use. He was way too strong. You shut your eyes and brace yourself; any moment now he’d throw you on the bed and have his way with you just like he always did, just like how Steve had tried to do, and you’d be powerless to stop him because you couldn’t stop anyone, and they all just wanted one thing, and–

“Please don’t,” you whisper, on the verge of tears, “Please, I can’t have sex. I don’t want to have sex, please don’t make me. Please, please don’t make me.”

Ari freezes, and you wish you could see his expression but in your current predicament, dangling over his shoulder, you cannot. But then he starts walking again, and he goes straight past your bed. That’s when you notice the picnic basket in his other hand.

“I’m not trying to sleep with you.” He mutters.

Oh. But then what was he doing?

You get your answer less than a moment later, when he swings your door open and carries you outside. That’s when you start punching his back again.

“Ari, take me back inside! I’m serious, okay? Someone’s gonna see–”

“Then I suggest you stop making so much noise that’s gonna attract attention towards us.” He shoots back, giving you a reprimanding pat on your thigh. Not your ass, you note, but your thigh. Immediately, you shut up. But you fix a scowl on your face, vowing you’d keep it there permanently until he could see it.

A minute later, he dumps you unceremoniously into the passenger seat of his car. By the time you scramble into sitting position, he’s already in the driver’s seat. The doors, predictably, are locked.

“So, it wasn’t enough that you barged into my dorm room uninvited. You felt the need to kidnap me, too?” You snap, irritated yet at the same time slightly amused. But you can’t let him know that. No, you had to maintain your ice queen persona.

“Please,” Ari snorts, starting up the car. “You were talking about going back to bed. If anything, I’m doing you a favour. It’s a nice day, sweetheart, let the sun shine on your face for a few hours.”

You deepen your scowl, crossing your arms over your chest, “I’m not going outside.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m literally not, Ari. Because you didn’t even think to let me put my shoes on.” You wiggle your bare toes, suddenly feeling the strong urge to smile at the ridiculousness of your whole predicament. But you pout to cover it up, suppressing whatever amusement you’re feeling because you don’t want him to see.

“Don’t fucking pout, it makes me want to kiss you.” Ari murmurs, keeping his eyes on the road but you can see him licking his lips.

“Don’t.”

“Did I say I was going to? I said I want to. There’s a difference.”

Again, you want to smile. You quickly turn your head away, looking out the window instead, watching the trees and buildings roll by as he drives you out of campus. “Whatever, just stay away from me.”

“Don’t be a brat.” There’s a warning edge to his tone, one that you’ve come to know very well. But surprisingly, you don’t feel unsafe. For once, you feel like maybe he won’t just stop the car in the middle of nowhere and try to fuck you.

You’ve been in Ari’s car before, and you’re no stranger to how it always goes when you’re in here. Back in the early days of you two hooking up, he’d pick you up in the dead of the night. And you were so innocent, you’d think of these midnight drives as romantic, magical even. He’d have a cigarette in his mouth, his long hair either slicked back or flowing in the cool night air. A wild look in his eyes as he’d pull you inside and kiss you headily while still trying to focus on the road. And he’d have one hand on your thigh, squeezing it before pushing his fingers between your legs.

In his hazy, smoke-filled car, you’d always find yourself underneath him. Splayed out in his backseat while he licked his lips and loomed above you. His dark silhouette so handsome, and you remember thinking how he was such a bad boy, and you were such a good girl, and how hot it was. He’d tell you how much he loved the tight little skirts you always wore, and yet he’d always rip them in half and then laugh and kiss you when you pouted. Tell you how he’d been waiting all day to fuck you, how he just couldn’t wait now that he had you, that he’d been thinking about you and him, that he just had to have you now.

You remember feeling like such a little girl compared to him. Ari was a senior after all, and you only a freshman. Once, you’d tried to impress him by wearing red lipstick. That night, he’d pulled you over the console and made you suck his dick. Till your red lip prints were all over his fat cock, and he’d told you how you were such a good girl, and he loved how cute you were, and that he knew you were trying to impress him.

 All those nights in his car, and you remember each time you’d ask him if he’d broken up with Sharon, and each time he’d tell you that he was “working on it.” That he didn’t see a future with her, that you were so much more special. “I can’t stop thinking about you and I,” he’d say, blue eyes dreamy and you thought he sounded so earnest. And eagerly you’d say the same, excited that someone like him could ever be that interested in someone like you.

And then he’d push you into the backseat, or he’d stay in the driver’s seat and pull you into his lap. Or sometimes, if the place you were parked at was secluded enough, he would take you on the hood of his car. Fuck you in every way imaginable, use your body for his pleasure whilst also giving you the most intense pleasure you’d ever felt. And sometimes, the moonlight would reflect off his eyes and make him look like something so special, and you’d feel so special, and you’d feel like you were in a movie. You still remember it now.

You doubt Ari does, though. You doubt those nights were ever special to him.

“Where are we?” You ask fifteen minutes later when he pulls up somewhere. You peer out the window and see trees – a bunch of them. He’s parked in a clearing, only a single dirt road leading up to it and the rest of the area covered in a thick forest of trees. The sun sparkles through the leaves, and you can hear birds chirping louder than you ever do back in the city. “Are we in the woods?”

“Yep.” He’s out of the car in an instant, grabbing the picnic backet which he’d thrown haphazardly into the backseat before making his way to your door. “C’mon, let’s go.”

“If you think I’m going to hike out into the woods barefoot–”

Ari scoffs, “Don’t worry your pedicured little feet off, princess,” he turns around, “Hop on.”

You eye him carefully, as if you’re assessing a threat. Going into the woods with Ari of all people may not be the best of gameplans for someone who was actively trying to avoid men in general. When Steve had forced himself on you, it had been in his room and luckily Kira had been nearby. The secluded woods, however, were a completely different story.

And yet, it’s like you know deep down that Ari won’t do anything. Not this time. Then again, you’ve been wrong about him before. Were you being naïve all over again?

Maybe you were, but you hop on to his back anyways. His muscular arms catch you easily as you wind your legs around his waist. Your arms lock around his neck and you nestle close to him instinctively. So close that you can smell his grape shampoo, and you admire how pretty his hair is, how it curls up slightly at the base of his neck like he’s a movie star or something.

You hate how you’re still so attracted to him.

He gives you a piggyback ride all the way into the woods, and it’s kind of neat being up so high. Ari was so tall, and with you on his back you felt like you were six foot six inches too. So this is what he sees, you think to yourself, finally indulging in the nature that surrounds the two of you. The way the oak trees soar up as high as skyscrapers, how the smaller trees sway with the breeze. The rustling of the leaves, and you think you hear a distant trickling of water, too.

“It’s nice here, isn’t it?” Ari breaks the comfortable silence, continuing to trek forward into the woods.

You’re about to heartily agree, before you remember the cold persona you’re meant to be adopting with him. So, in the dullest, most bored and nonchalant voice you can muster up, you say: “It’s whatever, I guess.”

He snorts.

You frown, “Are you laughing at me?”

“Nope.” He sounds amused.

“Yes, you are!”

“Well, it’s cute how you’re trying so hard to be something you’re clearly not.”

You’re thankful that he can’t see the way your jaw drops open, “And what exactly do you think I’m trying to be?”

He shrugs, inadvertently bouncing you up and down on his back.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I like this sassy side of you. Especially since I know you’re still the same naïve little baby on the inside.” He looks back at you, and you catch a glimpse of his glittering eyes, framed by those impossibly long eyelashes.

“I am not!”

Ari chuckles, “You can act as tough as you want, it amuses me how cute you look when you do it.”

You scowl, despite the fact that his constant flirting was starting to thaw you from the inside out, making your cheeks burn and your mind feel more muddled than ever. What was the truth and what was a manipulation? This was him just trying to win you over so he could fuck you, right?? Or maybe, maybe he genuinely liked you… Maybe–

You forcibly make yourself scowl again, “Fuck you.”

“Say that again and I’ll drop you,” He threatens.

“Don’t you dare!” You squeal, winding your arms tighter around his neck, almost choking him.

He snickers as if he’s cracked the funniest joke in the world, before continuing to walk. The two of you settle into another spell of comfortable silence. You take in all the bushes full of wild berries, the pretty flowers that are luckily in full bloom, scenting the air with a sweet fragrance that tickles your nostrils pleasantly. Another gentle breeze has you relaxing more against Ari, and you’re almost about to nuzzle your face against his strong shoulder before you catch yourself and freeze.

“I discovered this place last year,” Ari announces five minutes later, gently setting you down on a patch of vibrant grass. To your delight, only a few feet away from you is a stream! The water flows and sparkles in the afternoon sunlight, rushing over rocks and plants and making a pleasant trickling sound that has an oddly calming effect on you. And the grass feels nice against your toes, so much so that you don’t even mind your bare feet on the ground.

You don’t say anything, just watching as Ari settles down beside you with the picnic basket. You stretch your limbs out, secretly happy that he brought you out here, that you didn’t spend another day rotting in bed.

“I found this place last year,” Ari repeats, “A few of us were camping nearby and I hiked out further away to see if I could get cell reception. That’s when I found this place.” He leans back, lying down completely with his arms crossed behind his head, “It’s nice and private here, huh?”

A thought enters your head, jolting you down to the core, “Private? So, this where you brought Sharon? Or your other hookups?”

“No. You’re the first person I’ve ever brought here.”

The straightforwardness of his answer jars you, and you find you have no quip or jab to respond with. Instead, hesitantly, you lie down too. A few inches away from him, but he makes no move to grab you or pull you closer. A large part of you is relieved, but you want to strangle the tiny part of you that’s disappointed that he’s not touched you.

“It’s nice.” You say finally.

“Yeah, I come here sometimes. To admire the nature or whatever.”

That makes you pause, and you look at him incredulously. He’s lying there with his eyes closed, yet he’s got a completely straight face.

“You? Admiring nature?”

Ari scoffs, “Is that so hard to believe?”

“Yes, actually.” You can’t imagine Ari of all people, who only cared about basketball, partying and sex, to be one with nature. Unless it was weed. “What aspect fascinated you the most?”

There’s a long beat of silence.

“I don’t know, the plants and shit?”

You can’t help but burst out laughing. And it feels good, to just let go and laugh for a bit. To just forget about how shitty you feel and just laugh. Even if it’s just for a moment, to just forget about how awful Ari’s been to you in the past, how awful Steve turned out to be too, just forget it all and allow yourself to laugh. And you can’t even remember the last time you laughed.

“Haha, very funny,” Ari rolls his eyes, but you can see the slight smile playing on his lips before he clears his throat. “Alright fine, I couldn’t give a fuck about nature. But I do like this place, it’s good for when I need to think.” He hesitates, “When I was dating Sharon, I felt like I never had the space to really think, and so I’d come here.”

You cease your laughter immediately at the mention of her name. Now that you were friends with Sharon, it made it a lot harder to talk about her with Ari. Because now, she was actually a person to you rather than some distant illusion that you tried not to think about. And it wasn’t her fault that Ari felt he couldn’t think with her around. She wasn’t the villain here, Ari was.

You clear your throat, heart suddenly beating very fast. “C-Could I ask you a question? And please don’t lie, okay? Just be honest with me, Ari. For once.”

He nods, not saying anything else.

“Were there others?” You ask hushedly, your tone wavering slightly as you voice the thought you’ve never wanted to speak into existence, never even dared to wonder about. “Was I just one of many girls that you were cheating on her with?”

Ari sits up, rubbing his temple. You watch him carefully, watch how his eyes scrunch shut before opening. He blinks several times, his lips pressed into a thin line before they part and he exhales slowly. Then, he turns your way, looking you dead in the eye.

“No. There were other girls before you, but once I slept with you, it was only you from then on out.”

“Yeah, me and Sharon.” You say bitterly, although the guilt is eating you up inside. You feel guilty for even feeling hurt or bitter, because he was never yours to begin with. Sharon was the girlfriend – she had every right to feel hurt and bitter. You? You were just the other woman. All you should be feeling was guilt and shame. Especially since here you were, out alone with him again when you’d vowed yourself you wouldn’t do this.

You sit back up too, and he makes a move to grab your hand but you shuffle away quickly. You hug your knees, resting your chin against them as you huddle into yourself. You can feel his gaze penetrating holes into you, but you only focus on the steady flow of water in the stream.

“Even with Sharon, it didn’t feel right sleeping with her. Not after I’d been with you.”

 “Then why didn’t you break up with her?” Your voice breaks at the last second, and you turn away from him so he can’t see the lone tear that trails down one side of your face. Just a second ago you’d been laughing and now here you were, crying over the same question that had plagued your mind for months. The question that had been beaten to death, and yet you knew you’d never get a straight up, honest response.

Ari sighs, and you hear him moving closer to you. A second later, he takes hold of your chin, gently turning your face back to him.

“Hey, listen to me. I was an asshole, okay?” He sucks in a breath, closing his eye again for a handful of seconds. You want to look away but you can’t help but watch him, watch as he breathes, watch as he finally opens his mouth again. “Before you came along, I was this guy… This hotshot guy who could do whatever and everyone would just worship the ground I walked on. And, well, I guess I thrived on that. I liked how easily I could use women. I knew I had a girlfriend but I liked how I could get any girl to sleep with me–”

“I don’t want to hear this,” you mumble, pushing away from him.

“No, wait, I’m just trying to explain myself.” He runs a hand through his mane impatiently, “Look, I’ll admit it. All those times I strung you along, it was to feed my own ego. For a while, it felt like I was on top of the world, like I had two girls and neither of them knew any better, and–”

“Stop telling me this,” your voice hitches, more tears rolling down your cheeks.

“I was being a fucking asshole, that’s what I’m trying to say!” Ari grabs your hand as if to stop you from running away, a note of frustration in his tone. Or was it desperation? “I’ve never been good with voicing my feelings and all of that shit, but that’s what I’m trying to do right now. When I saw you with Steve, it’s like he was taking my girl, taking away everything I’ve always wanted. The night of the party, and then again at the game, when I saw you with him… It got me so fucking heated, and I’d never felt like that before. It felt like I was wasting my time in a relationship I clearly didn’t want to be in, and he was moving in on the girl I did want to be with.”

You look up at him, breathing heavily yet not daring to say a word.

“I’m sorry for lying to you, I’m sorry for using you. I’m sorry that it took you being with someone else for me to finally wake up and realise you’re the only one I’ve wanted this whole time.” His hand slips up to cup your cheek, and it’s like you’re frozen. You don’t know if you want to stop him or if you want to lean into his touch. You don’t know if this moment is even real. If this stream is real or if the woods are real or if Ari is real or if he really is saying everything you’ve ever wanted him to say.

“Why couldn’t you have said all this before?” You say shakily, afraid to look him in the eyes in case you see anything other than sincerity, in case you see even an inkling, even the tiniest spark of a hint that he was manipulating you.

“I was immature.” He continues to wipe your tears, before making you look up at him. “I was just so wrapped up in being the guy who could have any girl I wanted, but I promise you I’ve grown out of that now.”

“Really?” Your voice comes out so small, filled with hope mixed with a bit of hesitance.

Ari nods, “You said before that people don’t change overnight. But if you let me show you, I’ll prove to you that I have. And that I’m serious about us.”

Ice queen persona be damned. You feel more tears well up in your eyes. “Y-You are?”

“Yes. I wasn’t going to mention this but…” He runs a hand through his hair, brushing back a wayward lock that flops over his forehead, before taking hold of your hand, “There was an NBA scout at the last game. He said they want to sign me, that a lot of teams are eyeing me as a draft pick.”

Oh. The NBA. That put everything into perspective for you. He wasn’t like you, with three and a half years of college ahead of you. No, he was almost done… And then he’d be gone. You’re happy for him – the NBA was a huge deal after all. But you also feel a little sick, like time’s going by too quickly, like maybe you’re not ready to let go yet after all.

Your mind also briefly flits to Steve. Had he been approached by an NBA scout too? You think back to when you’d last seen him, outside your dorm room with the dark circles under his eyes, the withdrawn look on his face. He didn’t look like someone who’d just been scouted by the NBA. Oh God, were you feeling bad for him now?!

“Congratulations.” You say slowly, not really knowing how to feel. Suddenly, you’re hyper aware of Ari holding your hand, and now it’s like you don’t want him to let go.

“The reason I’m telling you this is because I have it all planned out. Our future.” Ari continues, looking more serious than you’ve ever seen him look. “I know you’ll still be in school, but I really think we could make it work. And by the time you graduate, I’ll have made it. We could settle down together, and I’d make it all up to you. That’s how serious I am about us.”

You simply just stare at him in complete awe. Who was this man? It was like an alien from outer space had taken over Ari’s body. Because the Ari Levinson you knew was a manipulator and a cheater. A man who stayed away from commitment with a ten-foot pole, a man who had just now professed to you that he enjoyed two-timing his girlfriend because it made him feel like he was on top of the world.

And yet… And yet you’re only just a girl, and you can’t help but picture the story his words are painting for you. Just indulge yourself a little bit, just a tiny little bit… You know you’re teetering on thin ice, and you know how dangerous it is to allow yourself hope when it comes to Ari. Hadn’t he squandered your hope time and time again for all those months he never made you his girlfriend?

But you can’t help but imagine, can’t help but think maybe this time he means what he says…

“We could buy a house in the countryside?” You whisper.

Ari cracks a smile, “Sure. And you could pop out a few Levinson babies too, make cheese sandwiches for all of them.”

“I’d have to establish myself as a model or a fashion designer before that.” You say, feeling the corners of your lips twitch upwards as you dare yourself to dream.

He looks amused, “Fashion designer, yes. Model, no. Too many pervy photographers.”

“I’ll be a model if I want to be one!”

“No.”

“Yes!”

“No way.”

“Yes way!”

“Fine. I’ll be in the NBA and you can be a model. Maybe. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” He chucks you under the chin playfully, like how he used to do all the time. And you giggle, feeling like you’re floating. Like the two of you are encased in a bubble and you’re floating and time’s standing still and just for this one moment you could pretend everything was alright and your future with him was as secure as he was making it out to be.

“And you’d never lie to me again?”

He nods, “I wouldn’t. Never again.” And then he takes a deep breath, “There’s this fundraising gala thing coming up, and I’m supposed to win an award. I’d love it if you could come with me as my date.” He says with a note of seriousness in his tone, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear.

But rather than let you answer, he instead cups your face with both hands, pressing his forehead against yours. Immediately, the smile on your face freezes, and now you can feel every pore, every muscle, every cell in your body screaming. Screaming for what? For him to kiss you? Oh God…

“Let me kiss you,” he breathes out of nowhere, sounding like he’s parched. “Please, baby. I know I’ve fucked up but I want to kiss you so bad right now.”

“Oh, Ari…”

“Please.”

You never thought you’d live to see the day where Ari Levinson was begging you for anything. It was such a stark contrast from how your relationship had begun, almost as if the tables had turned now. Were tables capable of turning that quickly? Or was this all part of an act? Oh, you’re sick of asking yourself that question! What’s real and true is that earnesty in his eyes, and you want to kiss him so bad too. So fucking bad.

He moves closer, and so do you. Inch by inch, almost like first-time lovers. His lips purse slightly, looking so warm and soft and inviting. Closer, so close that they brush against yours for a second, and you can hear him breathing and you know he can hear you too. You wonder if he can hear your heart too, hear how it beats louder for him than it does for anyone else.

“We shouldn’t…” you murmur, but your words are laced with doubt. Just one kiss, your mind cajoles you, just one kiss won’t hurt.

There’s a gentle breeze around the two of you, swirling softly. Rustling through his hair, feeling cool against your face. Encasing the two of you in a private whirlpool where it’s just you two, and the sound of the stream, and the beat of your hearts.

“I know, but I want to so bad,” Ari’s hands are cupping your face so tenderly, his thumbs stroking your cheekbones as he slowly angles your face upwards. “Please, let me kiss you. Just once.”

It’s like the breeze jostles you forward, as if the universe wants you to kiss him. Your willpower’s hanging on by just a thread, your mind swarming with memories of every time you and him had kissed in the past. How magical it had felt for you, how it felt like you could never find someone who’d kiss you like that again. Oh, fuck your willpower!

He surges forward one last time, but his lips have barely touched yours before you pull away, turning your head to the side. Breathing hard, the anticipation still burning through your body in waves. Heart beating like crazy, and yet you swallow and shake your head.

“Ari, we can’t,” you force yourself to say firmly.

Ari sits back, looking slightly dazed and yet running a hand through his hair in frustration. For a second, you wonder if he’ll be mad, call you a tease for leading him on. Call you a slut, tell you how the least you could do was kiss him in return for all he’d done for you today. But he just sighs thoughtfully.

“Not until I come clean to Sharon about everything,” You explain, “And I know about the gala, Sharon told me. I-I’m actually going with her and Wanda, like a girls’ night.”

He raises an eyebrow before nodding slowly, “Well, as long as I get to see you there when I go up on stage to accept the award.”

“Yeah, but we can’t talk or interact or anything. Sharon’s my friend now, and I owe her the truth before anything more can happen between us.”

Ari gazes at you carefully, but there’s a hopeful glint in his eye. “So, it’s just the Sharon issue then. You forgive me for everything else?”

You hesitate. Well, did you? Did you forgive him for leading you on? Lying to you multiple times? Manipulating you? Leaving you drunk and high and alone in a party bathroom? God, why did he have to remind you of the asshole he’d been all this time, up until very recently? It pops the bubble your mind has created right now, the one that you and him were encased in, in this little clearing in the woods.

“I don’t know if I forgive you.” You say honestly, hoping he doesn’t question you further.

To your surprise, he doesn’t. Instead, he lies back down on the grass, stretching his long limbs out to make himself comfortable. You watch him as he lazily grabs another cheese sandwich from the picnic basket, wolfing it down before offering you one. Stifling a smile, you shake your head.

Ari shrugs, “Well fine, more for me.”

And it’s later, after the two of you sit there by the stream in comfortable silence for a little while longer. After he’s piggy-backed you back to his car, and after he’s driven you back home. It’s when he’s pulling up to your building, that he puts his hand on your knee to make you look at him.

“I know you said before that nobody changes overnight, but that doesn’t mean I won’t stop trying until you see that I have.” He says firmly, his hand feeling so warm on your leg, causing heatwaves to radiate up and down your whole being. “And I know you, baby. I know you like me too. I know you want this to work out between us too. And it will. Once you tell Sharon, and we’re free to be together, everything’s gonna work out. You’ll see.”

Oh, he was so cocky! And yet, it’s a different type of cockiness than what you’ve usually come to associate with him. It’s more of an honest sincerity, this confidence that one day you’ll be his. And oh, you want to believe him! You really do! You want to believe in a perfect world where Ari proves himself to be more than just a manipulative fuckboy, a world where Sharon understands and forgives you for everything.

A world where you forget all about Steve Rogers, and never find yourself thinking about him… Thinking about what could have been.

You say nothing, not until he’s carried you back into your dorm room. Not until he’s about to leave. That’s when you speak.

“Ari?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

He looks surprised, as if he hadn’t really been expecting you to say anything at all after his whole speech. The truth was, you’d been silent for a while now, ever since the two of you had almost kissed in the woods. But there’s a newfound serenity inside you, a feeling that wasn’t there before.

“For what?” He asks, a shy little smile on his face. One you’ve never seen on him before.

For bringing me outside. For taking me to your special place. For not making a big deal out of it when I didn’t want to kiss you. For carrying me. For not losing your patience with me. For making me laugh. For making me smile again.

“For the cheese sandwiches.”

***

The night of the gala is cold for springtime, the blustering winds revving up and roaring to life. Looking outside your window, you can see the smaller trees swaying roughly against the unforgiving nature of what looks to be the beginnings of a windstorm. It gives you a peculiar foreboding feeling, listening to the ominous whistling of the winds, so loud as if they’re warning you. You back away from your window, and yet something inside you doesn’t close it and lock it as you know you should.

You float back over to your vanity table, feeling pretty in your new dress that you and Sharon had gone shopping for, just how she’d promised. You haven’t felt this pretty in a long time, and as you gaze at your reflection, you feel another pang of foreboding. Quickly, you busy yourself with powdering your nose and fixing your hair, wondering if maybe you should have agreed to get ready with Wanda and Sharon after all. You’d told them you wanted some alone time before the busyness of the gala. Some time to yourself where you could draw a bubble bath, and then shave and pluck and preen and pamper yourself till you felt somewhat ready for the big night out.

And it had made you feel better, your solo pamper session. Sure, your thoughts had spun into overdrive as they always did. Replaying all your recent interactions with Ari, with Steve, even with Sharon. The reflection made you chuckle at one point, because when had your life become so like a tumultuous soap opera? With secrets and lies and betrayal and deceit coming from all corners?

A loud gust of wind knocks you out of your reverie, and again you feel it. The feeling that something big is swirling up in the atmosphere, like the howling wind itself is trying to warn you that soon, it would all come to head.

“Fuck you! Try an’ scratch me again and see what happens!”

Your head snaps up at the sound of the familiar male voice. And it’s the proximity that makes your heart skip a beat. The voice sounded close, like it was coming from mere feet away from you. Fearfully, you look back at your window, only to see that same angelic face you know so well seemingly levitating outside.

“Steve?” You whisper, blinking several times. He doesn’t seem to hear you, and you wonder whether you’re imagining things. Slowly, you venture forward, back to your window which lies open. And that’s where you find him, standing on the ledge outside of your bedroom window which was two storeys high.

Steve whacks a wayward branch that looks to be tangled in his jacket. And his movements are oddly sluggish as he flips the bird at the tree adjacent to your building which the brand is attached to. “Damn stupid fuckin’ tree, tryna pick a fight with me,” he mutters before his eyes fall on you, and they brighten up instantly, “Hey, baby girl, fancy seeing you here!”

And then he bursts into a fit of giggles, while you just stare at him in awe, your mind still not having come to terms with the fact that Steve had somehow climbed all the way up to your window. In the dark. With the wind blustering insanely around him. Warily, you peek downwards, heart jumping all the way up to your throat when you see how he’s just casually balancing on the extremely thin ledge, the street below looking very minuscule with how high up your floor was.

“How did you get up here?” You breathe, still half in shock that he’s here that you forget how explosively your last encounter with him had gone down.

“Who, me?”

“Yes, of course you. Who else!?”

He shrugs, “Scaled that tree over there, then it decided to scratch me so I fought it off an’ jumped onto the ledge. Now here I am!” He ends his explanation with a flourish that causes him to stumble backwards. It almost happens in slow motion; you don’t even have a chance to react to what you’re seeing. But he catches his balance again just in time, grinning up at you mischievously.

“Whoops!” He laughs heartily, a type of laugh you’ve never really heard from him before. He shuffles along the ledge till he finds a spot he’s more comfortable with, leaning in through your window and shooting you a smile, “almost fell to my death there, didn’t I?”

“Steve, you need to get back down. You’ll hurt yourself.” You bite your lip, wondering whether you should let him in through your window just so he’d be safe. But the thought of being alone with him within the four walls of a bedroom again gives you the creeps, and so you refrain.

“Maybe I want to hurt myself,” he answers, staring at you almost quizzically. His lips are full, his cheeks flushed. His hair looks longer and even more unkempt than last time, that stubble still on his face, his eyes dark and unfocused. It was weird, because you’d always known Steve to be meticulously well-groomed and almost preppy with his clean-cut good looks. He was still handsome as ever now, but he looks darker, almost tortured, with dark bags under his eyes and even his cheeks looked kind of hollow.

“I’m serious, climb back down.”

“I just wanted to see you again,” he breathes softly, and his entire expression morphs to tender as he reaches out to touch your face. “And I knew you wouldn’t let me in the normal way.”

You can’t help but flinch away, and he sighs, bringing his hand back down to grip at your windowsill, “You’re so pretty.”

That’s when you smell it. Vodka. Suddenly, his erratic behaviour makes a lot more sense. His pupils are dark and blown out, and he’s swaying dangerously on the spot.

“You’re drunk, Steve.”

“Nah,” he bats his hand dismissively, but with such force that he stumbles forward. And again, your heart lurches in your throat, thinking he’s going to fall. But lithely, he grabs on to something or the other, regains his balance, and flashes you another smile, “okay, maybe a little bit. But being drunk helps.”

You frown, not knowing whether to feel scared or concerned, “What do you mean?”

He shrugs, “Helps to forget all the shitty stuff.”

A wave of anger passes through you, “Shitty stuff? You mean like all the awful things you said to me when you tried to force yourself on me?” Hell, maybe you should be the one drinking if it meant you could forget how he’d called you an easy slut.

Steve bows his head, still swaying slightly, “I’m so sorry, baby.”

“Don’t call me baby.”

“Okay. I’m sorry, sweetie.”

“Stop it, Steve. I’m serious.”

He sighs again, “So am I. I hate how I lose control like that. It’s like I zone out, and something takes over me and I’m there on fucking standby. Watching this one version of myself lash out and say all these shitty things an’ I can’t do anything to stop it.  And when I zone back in, it’s too late an’ I can’t take anything back.”

He explains with surprising eloquence, despite being so drunk.  And God, why did he have to look all rugged and heartbroken right now? Dismissing him would be so much easier if he was ugly.

There’s an emotion swelling up inside you as you look at him now, but you try to suppress it. Instead, remembering your ice queen persona, you cross your arms over your chest and force yourself to narrow your eyes. “Is that your explanation? That you zoned out? Because honestly, the lack of accountability–”

“I don’t think you’re a slut,” Steve interrupts you, “you’re sweet, and beautiful, and innocent. That’s what I thought the night I first saw you. And sure, I guess I used you because I was trying to get back at him–”

You flinch. There it was again. The reminder that Steve had indeed used you. And you’d fallen for it… Hook, line and sinker.

“–but at least I’m honest enough to admit it. Doesn’t that count for something?”

He finishes, blinking up at you with large eyes framed with those impossibly thick lashes, as if waiting for you to respond. When you don’t, he sighs, swaying again as another strong gust of wind attacks from the outside.

“I like you a lot, okay? I know I haven’t known you as long as he has, but it doesn’t matter. I think what we have is special.”  He swallows, his eyes squinting as he searches across the plains of your face, either trying to gauge your thoughts or trying to come up with the right words to say next. “And I know I fucked it up because that’s what I always do. So fuck it, I don’t care anymore.”

He shoves his hand inside his jacket, conjuring up a glass bottle of Gray Goose vodka out of what seems to be thin air. Your jaw drops open as you watch him take a hearty swig from it – and it was already half empty!

“Okay, that was a lie. I do still care.” He wipes his mouth roughly, stumbling about and still very much on the window ledge. “There’s just so much going on inside my head,” he says, and he demonstrates by smacking the side of his head with his open palm, “School, basketball, taking care of Kira – all of it just keeps building up. And I try my best, okay?” He loses his footing and sways some more, “but it’s never enough, and all my thoughts get louder and louder, like voices fucking screaming inside my head, and then I just explode. And I get so fucking angry, and it’s always directed towards the wrong people – whoops!”

He slips. You cry out in terror and impulsively grab hold of his arm. But he regains his balance and barks out a laugh, as if he’s tripped whilst taking a simple stroll in the park and not currently balancing on top of a very high and very dangerous ledge.

“It wouldn’t matter if I fell, you know?” He muses, taking another long swig of the vodka. And he doesn’t even flinch as the bitter liquid goes down his throat, as if the taste no longer has any effect on him. “I mean, my life’s a fucking mess already. Basketball’s completely fucked, anyways…”

“What do you mean?” You ask, your heart pitter-pattering in fear. His overtly reckless behaviour is scaring you, and you realise you’re holding your breath as you watch him callously standing there.

Steve shrugs, “Got kicked off the team today.”

Oh. You feel a surge of pity. And you know you shouldn’t. Not after how he treated you. And yet you can’t help it. Tonight, Ari was going to win an award for being the best basketball player of the season, and in the summer, he was going to the NBA. You can’t help but feel for Steve’s starkly different fortune.

He takes another gulp of vodka, “Coach said I couldn’t control my emotions and I’d keep costing the team if I continued playing.” He gazes off into the distance, and you try to gauge his expression but it’s quite unreadable. He laughs bitterly and smiles again, but it looks more like a grimace, “Fuck him. He’s right, but fuck him anyways.”

“Steve, this is dangerous. You could fall–”

“Fuck basketball,” he continues swaying around like he hasn’t even heard you, “it’s not like I was ever gonna make it to the NBA, anger issues or not. No, I have to become a surgeon. Like my parents.” His words slur and ring with sarcasm, and he barks out another laugh, “If I don’t fuck that up too…”

“I’m sorry that happened, but–”

He scoffs, “Can’t even fucking imagine being a doctor. My patients would probably be scared of me, just like how you are.”

“Please, just get down–”

“And Kira…” His expression morphs from bitter to sad in less than a second, and he clutches your hand suddenly. The one that you hadn’t realised was still holding on to his arm. And you don’t pull away, almost like you don’t want to. Either that, or you want to keep hold of him so he doesn’t fall.

Steve coughs, “God, I wish I took care of her better. I feel so fucking guilty, living on campus while she lives by herself in our house. Our parents are never home, they don’t even know what she went through… How she doesn’t even speak to anyone but me, how she doesn’t go out anymore...”

Another long swig. It’s a wonder the bottle isn’t empty yet. You want to interject, beg him once more to climb back down to safety, or at least hand you the vodka so he doesn’t drink anymore. But he’s not done speaking, and cuts you off when you try to get a word in edgewise.

“My parents, the award-winning heart surgeons!” He raises the vodka bottle up in the air in a mock toast, “They’re here, there, everywhere around the fucking world!” Another swig, more swaying. “Everywhere except for at fucking home. So then I have to handle everything, don’t I?”

“Steve–”

“They don’t even know how bad she’s gotten, how their own daughter’s shut herself off from everyone.” Steve shakes his head in both resignation and frustration, “and I try so fucking hard, okay? Try to help her with her anxiety, help her make new friends. God, all I do is worry about her. And school. And basketball. While they jet across the world doing their fancy surgeries and not giving a damn about her or me. Fuck them!”

Whoa. Wow. Okay. Now, you look at Steve with new eyes – you had no idea there was so much going on in his life, in his head. It still didn’t excuse the way he’d spoken to you, the way he’d forced himself on you – and yet… Yet you can’t help but feel another pang of sorrow and pity for him.

His eyes are dark and stormy as he looks out into the early evening sky, before looking back to you. His gaze falls down to your hand holding on to his arm, and he smiles softly.

“You were the only thing in my life that was good.”

You shake your head, your barriers going back up, and you try to pull your hand away, “No. Stop lying, Steve, just don’t even try it, don’t even–”

“No, it’s true!” He insists, holding on tightly to your hand as if he’s on a sinking ship and you’re his only lifeline. “That one week before I fucked it all up, that one week when we were just texting. I’d be on my phone, smiling like a fucking fool. You can ask Kira! She knew about you because I couldn’t stop talking to her about you.”

You bite your lip, and despite everything, you find yourself wanting to believe him so bad. Suddenly, a strong gust of wind has Steve clutching your hand even harder as he teeters on the ledge, bringing his face closer to yours, his eyes hooded and lashes fanning over those impossibly sharp cheekbones.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says.

“Don’t, Steve…”

He sighs, breaking eye contact as he plays with the glass bottle in his hand. But his other hand seems to move off its own accord, his pointer finger trailing up your bare arm. And it’s so intimate, that simple touch, leaving a trail of fire and goosebumps in its wake. Your skin feels like it’s buzzing, burning almost, as he traces his finger up your shoulder blade, as if he’s testing to see how much you’d let him touch you.

“I miss you.”

You feel your resolve crumbling…

“No, you don’t. All we did was text for one week. We never even went on a date, so you can’t possibly miss what you never had.”

“And yet I still miss you.”

He leans in, his eyes fluttering shut. His lips look so pink, so warm, so hesitantly inviting. Slightly pursed, as if he doesn’t know if it’s going to happen but he’s going to try anyways. Another sharp gust of wind blows past, almost pushing him into you as if even the universe itself is cajoling you to just give in to him. You can smell the alcohol on his pores, and yet you can also feel his warmth, his musky cologne, the way his breath hitches as if he can’t believe this kiss is actually happening…

Except you turn your head at the last second, and he sighs.

“Should’ve seen that coming,” he says to the evening sky, “lost my place on the team, lost my girl, I wonder what I’ll lose next? You wanna take any guesses? Hey, maybe I’ll lose my balance! That would be funny, wouldn’t it?”

You watch as he looks down, all the way down to the ground with a peculiar gleam in his eye. The type of gleam that reflects that he’s a man with nothing to lose. And it’s a long way down. What the hell was he thinking?!

“He really fucked her up,” Steve murmurs softly to himself, a whisper that almost gets lost in the great gusts of wind that swirl around the two of you. “And I tried to do something about it, tried to get back at him, but I fucked it up. I always fuck up. Maybe it’s best if I just–”

“Steve, stop it! Stop being so reckless!”

You tug hard at his arm, and at the same time a heavy wind blows. Steve stumbles again, but mercifully, he falls forward instead of back. Through your window and right on top of you. You both land on the floor with a thud, and despite how drunk he is, he manages to bring his hands out in front of him, preventing you from getting crushed by his huge frame.

“Whoops. Sorry, baby.”

He flashes you a cocky smile, as if he hadn’t just been teetering on your window ledge in the middle of a sad, drunken rant. The bottle of vodka is still snugly clutched between his fingers, somehow having also survived the fall onto your hard bedroom floor.

You open your mouth to tell him to get off of you, but the words die inside your throat. Instead, you look up at him, at his face so close to yours. So close that his nose is an inch away from brushing against your own. And his eyes, navy and blown out and yet still so pretty, blink down at you imploringly. The last time, when you’d been in his bedroom, they’d looked so stormy and far away. And here, now, he was drunk and yet he looked present. And you realise that you don’t feel unsafe at all.

“I really, really want to kiss you right now,” Steve says, slurring and stumbling over his words.

“Don’t.” You warn him, although you notice your own lack of conviction. In that moment, had he actually done it you don’t think you’d have objected too much. But you don’t want to give in to him, not after how scary he’d been last time. Despite everything, you still haven’t forgotten.

He nods slowly, “I know, fuck, I know…”

Shakily, he gets off of you, swaying slightly as he gets on his feet, and then he yanks you up too. Before you can stop him, he takes another swig of vodka before his eyes once again settle on you.

You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows hard, biting his lip as his dark eyes drink you in. In your form-fitting emerald dress that wraps around your body like a second skin of smooth satin. The ruching which accentuates your curves even more, the delicate lace detailing, the smooth dip of your cleavage. The gleam of your bare legs that peak through the slit of the dress. The demure heels that makes them look longer than ever. And yet you can’t help but shift shyly under his intense gaze.

“You’re all dressed up,” Steve says softly, reaching out to touch you before thinking better of it, curling his outstretched hand into a fist and pushing it down to his side, “You look… incredible.”

“Th-Thank you.”

“You going somewhere?”

“Uh… yes.”

He nods before his brow furrows, “Is he taking you out?”

“What–?”

“Levinson. Is he taking you out? Are you two together now?” His tone hardens, and you feel your heart jump up to your throat. Oh, please let him not get all angry again like how he did last time!

“No.” You say firmly, “There’s this gala, this fundraiser thing at the Hilton Hotel. That’s where I’m going. Me and Sharon and Wanda.”

“No Levinson?”

You shake your head, “N-No, Steve.” It was only white lie, because you weren’t going with Ari and you probably wouldn’t speak to him tonight. It was a girl’s night out, if anything. Plus, you’re scared that Steve might flip out if he knew that Ari would be there too.

“You promise?” He looks at you meaningfully, and he’s got that same intense look again. The look you’ve grown to associate with him, that eery, almost glassy stare. “Promise me, Y/N. Promise me that you aren’t going out with Ari.”

You don’t owe him anything, certainly not any promises. And yet, yet you can’t help but nod, “I promise, Steve. In fact, Sharon and Wanda are on their way to pick me up.”

Steve nods approvingly, looking somewhere beyond you. His eyes look sad once again, and he takes another long, lingering sip of vodka. “Good girl. You stay away from him, okay? All he does is hurt people.” He shakes his head, his mouth pulling downwards in a grimace, “He hurt her so bad.”

You frown, “Hurt who? Sharon?”

The blond doesn’t answer, but he continues talking to himself. “What did she ever do to him? He didn’t give a damn about her, and now look at her…”

You feel an uneasy wave of guilt, “You mean Sharon, don’t you? I know…”

Steve frowns, opening his mouth to answer you before he grows distracted by something beyond your shoulder. A slow smile spreads across his face, and he stumbles over to your desk in the corner of the room.

“My jacket!” He grabs the blue and white varsity jacket he’d given you the night of the party, “You still have it. You kept it.”

“You can take it back!” You say quickly, a bit too quickly judging by how his face falls. Quickly, he drops the jacket as if it’s made of hot coals, a bitter look enveloping his features.

“You should throw it away. Or burn it.” He says simply, throwing his head back and taking a hearty sip of his vodka, “thought you would’ve looked cute wearing it to one of my games but I since I won’t be playing anymore, there’s no point anymore, is there?”

What follows is an uncomfortable silence. And oh, why was he making you feel bad for him now?! After everything he’d said and done? But then he’d apologised too… Were you being too hard on him? Now you feel more confused than ever!

You sigh, “Steve… Look, I just don’t know how to act around you. One second, you’re so intense, and you’re calling me a slut, and you’re being all scary. And then the next it’s like your entire personality changes. And I just… I don’t know what to believe, okay?”

“Why can’t you just believe that I’m sorry for what happened? I’m sorry for all of it.”

You shift uncomfortably, looking down at your heel-clad feet. You wrack your brain, trying to choose your next words carefully, “I… do believe that you’re sorry.”

He stands there expectantly, as if waiting for you to say something more, to say that you forgive him, perhaps? But you don’t think you do. Do you? A few more empty seconds pass before he clears his throat.

“They put me on some kind of medication. Added it to the ones I already take.” He volunteers, breaking the silence. He avoids your gaze now, instead focusing on his bottle of vodka, tossing it from one hand to the other and tapping at the glass. “For my anger and mood swings, or whatever.”

You nod, “That’s good, right? You saw a doctor?”

He snorts, “No. My parents just heard about me flipping out and contacted the family physician Got him to prescribe me all these different pills. But this,” he raises the vodka up in the air and waves it around, “This helps more than any medication ever could. It stops all the screaming in my head. And luckily, Mom and Dad left the house full of booze, so I’m all good to go.”

You nod slowly, furrowing your brow, “Steve, maybe you shouldn’t be drinking while you’re on medication–”

Your phone vibrates loudly from its place on your bed, the sound shaking you from the inside out. Even Steve blinks several times, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding as you make your way over to your phone. It’s like the bubble of intensity the two of you have been encased in has popped, and now you’re back in the real world. It was crazy, because being inside the bubble felt intoxicating, like everything was moving in slow motion, like you were in some sort of fairytale and the troubled prince had just climbed in through your window.

Your screen glows with a new text.

Sharon: We’re on our way! Wanda’s already so drunk lol we’ll be there in ten minutes!

Oh no. You’d rather your friends didn’t run into a drunken Steve Rogers when they came to pick you up. Especially not when you were supposed to have sworn off men anyways.

“Steve, you–”

“–I need to go,” he completes sombrely, picking at a piece of loose thread on the sleeve of his expensive-looking sweater, “I know, I know.” His eyes narrow, “That wasn’t Ari, was it? Who texted you just now?”

“No.” 

He relaxes, “Good. Okay, I guess I’ll leave then.”

You chew your bottom lip anxiously, “H-How will you get back? You didn’t drive here yourself, did you?”

He waves your question off as if it isn’t important, backing away towards your door, “You don’t worry about me, sweetheart.”

“Steve Rogers, don’t you dare drive back home in the state you’re in!”

He just stares at you, that same bittersweet look on his face. Finally, he nods, “I’ll be fine. I came here with Bucky.”

You nod, “Okay, then. As long as you don’t drive…”

Steve shoots you a sad smile, one that doesn’t really reach his eyes. His eyes that are still glued on just you, only you. He crosses his hand over his chest, “I promise I won’t. Scout’s honour… Although I was never a scout, so who knows if you can take my word. Ha ha.”

He finally makes it to your door, almost as if he’d been walking in slow motion, wading through quicksand. Why? Because he didn’t want to leave? And you feel a lump in your throat, one that won’t go no matter how many times you swallow. There’s an odd yearning inside you, like an itch on your hand. No, an itch in your heart. Your fingers twitch as if wanting to reach out to touch him. Did you not want him to leave, either?

You press your lips together, rooting yourself in place as you watch him go. At the last second, he turns back around again.

“I am sorry, okay? Sorry about everything.”

Once more, all you do is nod. The expectancy in his eyes fades away and he sighs, his hand resting on the doorknob as he goes to shut the door. 

A second passes. But it feels like the longest second you’ve ever lived. Like your heart seems to beat about a thousand times in that one second, like a drum reaching crescendo. Feeling like you’ve reached that part in the movie, that page in the book where the climax happens and then everyone can breathe again. Outside, the winds seem to be charging up again, readying themselves for an almighty, blustering blow. And you can feel the booming whistle of the winds ringing all around you, when you suddenly drop your phone on your bed and rush over to the door before you can think better of it.

“Steve, wait!”

You press your lips to his in a searing kiss, catching him completely off-guard. He stumbles back slightly, either by how strongly you’ve jumped on him or because of his own inebriation. Either way, he recovers quickly, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you against him as he reciprocates your kiss.

And you don’t know why you’re kissing him, but it’s like your body’s gone past the point of rationale. Like your lips and your limbs have a mind of their own and your brain is no longer part of the conversation. And Steve’s lips feel so soft, and this time you feel like it’s you in control. He’s too drunk to take charge, you suspect, as his lips move languidly against yours.

Your hands cup his face, his bristly skin pricking the pads of your fingers, and yet it doesn’t bother you. Not when he’s kissing so softly, so cautiously like he’s afraid he could hurt you again. It’s you who presses your tongue against his, stroking it, biting and nipping at his lips. He smirks at your overexcitement, finally injecting more passion into the kiss by tipping your head back slightly and pressing his lips harder against yours.

He tastes like vodka, but you don’t mind. He also tastes kind of sweet, kind of irresistible. And oh, you know this makes no sense! And you know you shouldn’t be kissing him! What about Ari? What about your own dignity? What about swearing off all men? What about–?

You pull away as abruptly as you’d kissed him, and both of you stand there breathless for a handful of seconds. Your lips still tingle pleasantly, and before he can say anything, you gently pry the bottle of vodka from his hand.

“I’ll keep this, okay?” You say softly, holding it behind your back. There’s still quite a bit left in it, and Steve looks like he’s one sip away from disaster. Or at least a very bad headache tomorrow morning. You pray it’s only the latter.

But he’s got a sparkle in his eye now, and he doesn’t spare the vodka a second glance, “It all went away for a second.”

“What went away?”

“All the fucking screaming in my head. All that pressure I was telling you about. Kissing you made it all go away. Your lips are magic, baby girl. Better than the vodka.”

“Oh.” You don’t know what else to say, but you feel a lurching pull in your heart nonetheless.

“Yeah, like I’m numb to it all now. Comfortably numb. And it’s such a fucking relief.” He closes his eyes for a second, as if he’s savouring the feeling. You’re so intently looking at him that you don’t even notice when he grabs your hand, and his eyes flutter open, “So you forgive me?”

You hesitate, “Steve, I…I don’t know.”

His serene smile freezes on his face, and he drops your hand like it’s a hot poker. You feel it again in your heart, that lurching fee ling that you can’t place. You watch as his face falls, almost in slow motion. And it feels like you’re sitting front row in the cinema, watching his expression turn sad, his eyes clouding over once more like he was depending everything on your forgiveness.

“Okay. Goodbye.”

He stumbles out of your room, out into the stairwell where he trips before grabbing on to the banister.

“Steve, please be careful,” you say again, your tone laced with worry.

He glances back at you, that ever-charming smile back on his face. Back from when you’d seen it that first night when you’d met him. Almost like he’s put on a mask. He gives you a sluggish thumbs-up, “I’ll be fine. I’m comfortably numb, remember? I just hope it lasts…”

What the hell did that mean? Should you go after him? You hear your phone vibrate loudly, and you glance back at your bed to see it glowing with several new texts. But then you look back at the stairwell to find it empty. He was gone. Gone like a gust of wind. Gone like he was never there.

But he was. You can still feel him on your lips.

As if in a dream, you float back into your room and pick up your phone. Two new texts.

Sharon: We’re five minutes away! Traffic’s crazy lol.

Ari: Hey. I just want to say that I’m happy you’re coming tonight. Even if we don’t get to speak, just know you’ll be on my mind all night. Fuck. That was cheesy. Anyways. See you there :).

You sink down on your bed, already feeling exhausted and mentally drained. Despite the fact that the night was nowhere near over yet. In fact, it hadn’t even begun.

***

“Where’s Curtis?” Wanda wonders aloud, scanning the sprawling banquet hall and immediately grabbing a flute of champagne from an elegantly dressed waiter holding a tray full of them.

The banquet hall where the gala is being held at the Hilton is reasonably full, and you recognise a bunch of familiar faces from campus – both students and professors. Everyone’s dressed smartly – the men in tuxedos and the women in evening gowns and dresses. Sharon and the decorating committee have done a great job; each table swathed in ivory cloth, with red rose centrepieces and golden gilded chairs. Matching golden lights against an otherwise dark room gives an almost ethereal ambiance.

“He’s probably over on table 2 with the rest of the basketball team,” Sharon nods to a table at the front of the room near the stage. “I did the seating arrangements and the place-cards.”

Predictably, table 2 is the rowdiest table in the entire banquet hall. Clearly, the basketball team didn’t give two fucks about what was considered proper black-tie etiquette. You can see Ransom Drysdale and Andy Barber having some kind of a drinking competition, chugging down wine glass after wine glass as if they were cans of beer. Lloyd is acting like their referee, half on top of the table as he tries eggs them on. Colin is laughing his head off as he looks to be live-streaming this whole performance on his phone. And then there’s Ari.

And oh, he looks so breathtaking! Your heart physically skips a beat when you see him. His brown hair slicked back sexily, but the ends curling around his stiff white collar. His tuxedo looks well-tailored and expensive – Armani probably – and a white bow tie that makes him look more handsome than ever. He’s sat in the middle of his table, looking very much like the leader of his group. A smirk on his face as he watches his teammates horse around, but then his eyes meet yours, and the cocky smirk turns into the most adorably lovesick smile that does not look like it belongs on his face – only because you’ve never really seen him smile like that ever before.

“Oh gosh, there’s Ari,” Sharon says, coming up closer to your side and making you snap your eyes away from her ex-boyfriend immediately. The blonde takes a few deeps breaths to calm herself, “And he’s looking straight at me! Well, who cares? I’m not gonna let him affect my night. In fact, I’m gonna go over to him to prove how unbothered I am–”

Before you know what’s happening, she starts making a beeline straight over to table 2 – with you in tow! Wanda follows, her eyes still searching the room for Curtis as she downs her champagne quickly.

“Hello, Ari,” Sharon says stiffly, hanging on to your arm for dear life. You hope you don’t look as mortified as you feel, watching as Ari looks up at the two of you, his charming little smile still on his face.

“Hi.” He answers her, giving her a quick nod before his eyes shift to you, and you see them sparkle as he looks you up and down, taking in your emerald dress, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards again in another sweet little smile. Oh God, damn him for being so obvious!

“Well, I just came here to congratulate you on your award,” Sharon says, a determinedly happy-yet-nonchalant look plastered on her face. “So, well, congratulations.”

Ari nods again, physically tearing his eyes away from you, “Thanks.”

“Where’s Curtis, you guys?” Wanda interrupts the awkward exchange, looking expectantly at the basketball team. You watch as she grabs another champagne from another cocktail waiter who happens to pass by, downing it as quickly as she had the first.

Ransom snickers, “He’s somewhere around here, sweetheart. But I wouldn’t bother him if I was you, he’s kinda busy.”

Wanda doesn’t even wait for him to finish his sentence before she’s off, weaving across the banquet hall at lightning speed. You watch her, mildly concerned as she grabs yet another glass of champagne, her previous one still in her other hand. She’d been antsy the whole ride over, because apparently Curtis wasn’t texting her back, and hadn’t since last night.

“She’s already a mess,” Sharon murmurs to you under her breath before smiling brightly at Ari, “Well, see you around, Ari.”

He nods at her for the third time, before his eyes rest on you once more. There’s a hint of yearning within them, and his lips twitch as if he wants to say something. Oh, when did it get so easy to read his expressions? Did you know him that well now? He gives you a soft, private smile – one you know is meant just for you. One that seems to convey a thousand words in just a single twitch of a muscle. You almost return it, before remembering who you’re with.

“Thank God, he didn’t bring her,” Sharon mutters to you as the two of you walk away from jock table.

“Huh?”

“The little skank he cheated on me with. I would’ve died if he brought her along as his date.”

You gulp, eyeing one of the champagne flutes yourself. After tonight, you absolutely had to come clean to Sharon. There was no other choice, you’d kept this secret long enough. And if it meant she’d no longer be your friend, then so be it. You deserved that. But no more excuses, you had to tell her tonight after this event was over.

And the event itself is fine. You hang out with Sharon while she makes small talk with a bunch of different people. You don’t talk much, simply staying quiet and observing. People’s outfits, their makeup, their shoes, everything. It’s nice to be out and about again, after spending what felt like an eternity rotting in your dorm room and feeling sorry for yourself. You even find yourself catching Ari’s eye every now and again, and each and every time he’d give you his sweet little private smile that made you want to die. You’d look away, of course, or busy yourself with talking to Sharon or someone else, just so you wouldn’t smile back. Even though you wanted to. You really, really wanted to.

You do get a handful of texts from him though.

Ari: You look beautiful.

Ari: I can’t take my eyes off you.

Ari: Seriously, I don’t think you realise how beautiful you look right now.

You don’t reply, but you know he can see you looking down at your phone and smiling like crazy.

About a half hour into the gala, the hosts beckon everyone to sit at their assigned tables because the award ceremony is about to begin. That’s when you notice that Wanda’s been missing for a while now. You scan the room while a retired basketball coach hobbles his way onto the stage, beginning a very long-winded speech on how he’d single-handedly led the St. Andrews’ team to victory back in 1993. Where the hell was Wanda? You realise you’ve been so wrapped up in the event and playing secret smiling games with Ari from across the room to notice that you hadn’t seen her since the three of you had arrived here.

Luckily, you spot her stumbling towards the bathrooms that are in a corridor off the main banquet hall. Stumbling being the key word, and you quietly curse yourself for allowing her to drink so much. God, Ari was just so distracting! Even when you weren’t even speaking to him, just his presence alone was making you forget about everyone else!

You tell Sharon you’re going to get Wanda before quietly sneaking away, hoping to discreetly bring her back before she wanders off somewhere else. You just hope

“Wanda, hey! Wait up!” You catch up to her, “Let’s go back to the banquet hall.”

Wanda rolls her eyes, “Leave me alone, Y/N. I’m looking for my boyfriend.”

Oh. She still hadn’t found him yet?

“C’mon, our table’s this way,” you try again, grabbing her hand, about to lead her away. Then you notice her eyes light up as she looks beyond your shoulder.

“Baby, there you are!” Wanda slurs brightly, snatching her hand out of your grip and making a beeline down the hall. You whip around to see Curtis closing the bathroom door behind him, his other hand wiping his mouth. His tie loose around his neck and top collar button undone. And you also see a tiny brunette in a silver dress slip out of the bathroom behind him, the dim lights of the hallway swallowing her up as she slinks away into the darkness, Wanda not even noticing her.

“Wanda.” Curtis blinks, looking entirely unperturbed. “You’re here.”

She hits him playfully on the shoulder, “Of course, I’m here. I came with the girls, remember? And I wanted to support you!”

He scratches the back of his head, “Yeah. Cool. Look, I’m gonna go back to the boys–”

“Great, let’s go!” Wanda links her arm with his, making his jaw tense and eyebrow raise. And you watch this whole ordeal with a sinking feeling in your stomach.

“Babe, remember how I told you this event was a no date kind of thing?” Curtis carefully peels himself away from her, making her pout. You cringe when she doesn’t get the message, grabbing his bicep again, her manicured nails like talons holding on with all her might.

“But I missed you, baby,” Wanda smiles up at him drunkenly. “I’ve been looking for you all night!”

Curtis visibly cringes, “Come on, babe, don’t be like this.” Again, he dislodges his arm from her grip, pushing her off of him not-so-gently. “I’m here with the team tonight, but I promise I’ll come by your room later. Maybe. Like way after midnight probably.”

You can’t hide your disgust, openly frowning and shaking your head at him. God, why did all men suck so much?

“Come on, Wanda,” You grab her hand once more, “You don’t need him to enjoy your night. Let’s go.”

“Um, fuck off, Y/N, I’m talking to my boyfriend right now.” Wanda pushes you off her before sidling up to Curtis again.

You gape at her, feeling a pang of hurt. She’s just drunk, she didn’t mean to say that…

Curtis sighs, rolling his eyes, “Listen to your friend, Wanda. I gotta go.”

“I’ll come with you!”

For a third time, she grabs on to his arm tightly. That’s when Curtis huffs, clearly annoyed.

“Look, I don’t know what you think is going on between us, but stop acting like we’re in some serious relationship or whatever.” He says, a frown bordering on disgust on his face as he shakes her hand off of him.

Wanda gapes, and even your mouth drops open. How dare he? How fucking rude!

“Baby, you don’t mean that–”

“I mean sure, we have fun together but please don’t get the wrong idea, Wanda. You can’t just chase me down at these public events like you own me or something. That’s not how this works. In fact, all it does is make you look kind of desperate.” He continues, getting his phone out and nonchalantly scrolling through it as if this whole painful conversation isn’t even worth his time.

How the hell was he speaking to his own girlfriend like that?

“I-I’m sorry for being desperate, Curtis,” Wanda says earnestly, her eyes wild and pupils dilated, “Please, don’t do this! Don’t break up with me like this!”

He rolls his eyes, “Do what? I’m not doing anything! I can’t break up with someone who was never my girlfriend to begin with. Sure, we had fun for a few weeks but it’s not like we were ever exclusive, let alone dating. You were too clingy for my liking anyways.”

“Curtis, that’s enough!” You admonish, your heart breaking for poor Wanda. Curtis was a joke.  You can’t believe he’s standing here denying he was ever in a relationship with her. Hell, you’d been a third wheel to them enough times in the past month to know the two of them had definitely been a thing. How the hell was he just so casually gaslighting her now, as if none of that ever happened? God, you would never understand men!

Curtis glances at you, a devilish twinkle in his eye before he turns to Wanda again, “Hell, I’m pretty sure I tried to sleep with your friend Y/N before I settled for you that night at the party.”

“Oh, you’re such an asshole!” You explode, pulling Wanda away, “Stay away from her, you piece of shit! C’mon, Wanda.”

What you haven’t noticed is Wanda standing deathly still. She snatches her hand away from you, a look of absolute loathing, shock and betrayal on her face. And a part of you wants to see her give an asshole like Curtis a piece of her mind. But then she turns to face you, her eyes drunk and accusatory.

“Y-You…” she points at you, swaying in her heels from all the alcohol in her system, “You slept with my boyfriend?”

“What? No, he tried to sleep with me, but I wasn’t interested. It really wasn’t a big deal–” You try to hold her hand to calm her down, hoping she doesn’t make a big scene.

“Later, ladies.” Curtis grins, squeezing past the two of you and strutting over to table 2 with the rest of his team. You watch him for a moment, slack-jawed at his nonchalance and how badly he’d just hurt your friend.

“I can’t believe you!” Wanda hisses, pulling away from you yet again. “I can’t believe you slept with him!”

You shake your head desperately, “No, no, no! I didn’t sleep with him! That’s not what he said!” You take a deep breath, stopping yourself from raising your own voice out of desperation to get her to understand. Instead, you speak slowly: “Wanda, I did not sleep with Curtis. Yes, he did try it on with me ages ago but nothing happened.”

“You’re the biggest bitch in the world, Y/N! I can’t believe you slept with him!” Wanda sputters, tears welling in her drunken eyes. It’s like her brain has only selectively heard what he’d said and is running with it, and she’s unable to compute what you’re saying to her now. “I knew you weren’t above sleeping with other people’s boyfriends but I never thought you’d do it to me!”

“No, please, just listen! You’re not understanding–”

“Let go of me!” She bats your hands off her when you try to grab her again, backing away and stumbling out into the main banquet hall. “Don’t even speak to me again, Y/N! How dare you sleep with Curtis?! When you knew how much me and him meant to each other!”

Helplessly, you watch her as she marches across the banquet hall, and you trail behind her with a lump in your throat. You’d have to wait until she was sober to explain things to her properly, which was another conversation you weren’t looking forward to. But for now, you just watch her, hoping she doesn’t injure herself with how determinedly she’s walking. You expect her to head towards Curtis’ table, which is why you freeze when she walks straight past him and up towards the stage.

The retired basketball coach is just about done with his speech, and you nervously rejoin Sharon who is also looking at Wanda climbing up the stairs of the stage with a confused look on her face.

“We need to go get her,” you murmur.

“Why, hello young lady,” the retired basketball coach greets Wanda warmly, “Are you here to present the first award?”

Both you and Sharon spot Wanda eyeing the microphone with a gleam in her eye, and the two of you stand up in unison, exchanging alarmed looks.

But Wanda is quick, bumping the retired coach out of the way with her hip. She grabs the mic, tapping it quickly many times in succession. A high-pitched feedback echoes across the room, and more eyes turn towards her from all the other tables in the hall. The retired coach gives her a confused smile before shrugging and slowly hobbling away. A number of stagehands look on in confusion, checking their clipboards to see if this was part of the show.

And that’s when Wanda starts talking.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I have an award of my own!” She grips on to the mic like a vice, teetering on the middle of the stage. Her hair’s messy, her face stained with dried up tears. The straps of her dress slipping down her shoulders, and the half empty wine glass still in her hand, the remaining contents of it sloshing out onto the polished wooden floor.

“What the hell is she doing?” Sharon whispers from beside you. All around you, everyone in the banquet hall is whispering amongst themselves, and now all eyes are glued to your drunken best friend on stage. The tables full of professors, coaches and alumni all look around in bewilderment, frowning as if Wanda being on stage is all part of some kind of skit before the award ceremony.

You glance over at the jocks on table 2. Ari shoots you a perplexed look, Ransom’s got his phone camera out, Andy’s grinning from ear to ear. Colin has the decency to look away, an embarrassed look on his face. And Curtis? Curtis leans back on his chair, an amused look on his face as if he’s ready to kick back and enjoy the show.

That means it’s all up to you.

“Wanda!” You hiss, glad that your table is close enough to the stage that she can hear you, “Wanda, you’re drunk. C’mon, let’s go to the bathroom so I can fix you up.”

She looks down at you and smirks evilly, before looking away as if she hasn’t even heard you. Instead, she once more taps the mic once, twice, three times. She giggles drunkenly, “Testing, testing, is this thing on?”

“Wanda, babe, come down please!” Sharon joins in, but she also gets promptly ignored. She bites her lip before turning to you, “God, how did we not realise how drunk she’d gotten? She’s gonna make a fool of herself.”

“Wanda!” You try again, raising your voice slightly, “Come down, Wanda, please! The awards ceremony is about to begin!”

“It’s already begun! And like I said, I have an award of my own,” Wanda says, looking beyond you but never fully at you. You can see her lip curled slightly, and either it’s a smile or a sneer – you can’t really tell. But it makes your blood run cold, and a strong sense of foreboding washes over you again, like how it had earlier in your bedroom.

Quickly, you make your way over to the stage, hoping to pull her off before she said anything to embarrass herself too much. And it’s when you’re climbing up the stairs at the side of the stage that she resumes speaking:

“I know you’re all here for some… some random basketball award,” Wanda slurs, “But I wanna get my award out of the way first. And it’s the award for St. Andrews’ college’s biggest fucking slut.”

You’re halfway up the stage by now, and it’s when you step up on to the polished wooden floor that you pause, her words sinking in and a horrific feeling dawning on you. Oh no…

“And look! Here she is, the slut herself!” Wanda cheers, pointing straight at you with an unsteady hand. She throws her head back and laughs, her other hand gripping on to the mic for dear life. “Everybody, please give it up for Y/N! She already knows she’s the winner, nobody else could ever compare! Y/N is undoubtedly the biggest fucking slut on campus, and she wholeheartedly deserves this fucking award!”

Pin drop silence. For the first second, that’s all you hear. Silence that’s so loud, it’s almost deafening. Ringing in your ears, closing in on you like a siren. Then, you feel the waves of heat. Red hot fire radiating all over your body. Your face, your arms, your neck. Everywhere. You can’t quite believe what’s happening, but you know there’s a banquet hall filled with strangers staring straight at you as if you’re swathed in a spotlight.

“Curtis, get your girl the fuck off the stage!” You hear Ari say somewhere in the distance, and you can see him getting to his feet.

“No fucking way, that bitch isn’t my problem anymore.” Curtis whispers back, a note of glee in his tone.

You remain frozen on stage, your heart thrumming up to your throat. Wanda cackles, drunkenly beckoning you closer. Someone – either a professor or a coach – tries to coax her off the stage but she bats him away as if he’s an insignificant fly.

“C’mon, Y/N! Don’t be shy, come accept your award!” Wanda holds up her now empty wine glass as if it’s a trophy, “Ladies and gentlemen, don’t be mistaken! Y/N isn’t normally this shy! I mean, she certainly wasn’t when she fucked my boyfriend!”

A hushed gasp fills the hall, followed by a host of whispers. There’s a tiny voice inside you, telling you to run. Just run, run, run away from it all. But your feet don’t move, firmly planted in place as your whole body buzzes with heat and the lump in your throat gets bigger and bigger. Why was Wanda doing this? Oh God, what was happening!?

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Ari scrape his chair back and stride over to the stage, a venomous look on his face. At the same time, you feel a warm hand on your shoulder as Sharon comes up the steps to stand beside you.

“Wanda, honey, that’s enough.” Sharon says softly, holding her other hand out to your drunken friend. “Come on. Let’s go home.”

“Don’t you honey me,” Wanda spits out, “And don’t look at me as if I’m some sort of fool. If anyone’s a fool, it’s you, Sharon!”

Oh no. You feel yourself going light-headed.

That’s when Ari jumps up on stage, looking huge and menacing as he strides over to Wanda. He grabs her by the upper arm roughly, “Carla, shut the fuck up right now if you know what’s good for you,” He hisses.

“Well look who it is! Mister Knight in Shining Armour, here to save the fucking day!” Wanda laughs, and at least she’s not speaking into the mic anymore, but did it even matter? “Y/N doesn’t need your help, Ari! She’s a fucking slut who enjoys sleeping with other people’s boyfriends, and she’s proud of it! You’re proud of it, aren’t you, Y/N!?”

You’re in no condition to answer her question. Now, your body seems to be experiencing rapid hot and cold flushes. Icicles, then fire, then icicles, then fire again. And your face feels like it’s been stabbed by a thousand pins and needles. It’s a sensation you’ve never felt before, almost like an out of body experience. Like you’re floating except it feels terrible instead of liberating, and there’s absolutely no way for you to escape the impending doom.

Someone’s directed the live band to start playing again, and the room fills with music to combat the earth-shattering silence. But you know everyone’s eyes are still on the spectacle that’s taking place on stage. Everyone’s looking at you. And it’s like all your insecurities from the past month had come back in full force. Except so much worse, because now everyone thinks you’re a slut.

To your horror, Wanda goes to speak into the mic again. But Ari quickly snatches it out of her hands, throwing it aside and shooting her a glare, “Don’t even fucking think about it.”

“Okay, Wanda, you’ve made your point,” Sharon interjects gently. “I don’t know why you’d spread all these lies about your own best friend who’s been nothing but good to you, but it’s done now. Let’s just go.” Again, she reaches for Wanda’s hand, only for the latter to shoot her a sneer.

“Stop acting so holier-than-thou, Sharon. You’re not worth shit anymore, not since you got dumped,” Wanda laughs, suddenly aware of who exactly is on stage with her. She glances from you to Ari to Sharon, a look of evil glee spreading across her drunken features. “Why don’t you ask Ari again why he dumped you? Or better yet, why don’t you ask your new best friend Y/N?”

The band’s now playing an upbeat song, the lead singer urging everyone to get up on the dance floor in a bid to distract them. A few people do, but most stay planted in their seats, their focus still on the stage. Not that any of that even matters, not when Wanda’s words hit you like a ton of bricks. Out of your peripheral, you sense Sharon inhale sharply from next to you, and a deep feeling of dread starts spreading across your chest.

“Curtis, get the fuck up here and deal with her,” Ari seethes through gritted teeth. Curtis rolls his eyes, slowly making his way up to the stage like a panther going on a leisurely stroll.

“She sleeps with everyone’s boyfriend!” Wanda explodes, pointing another accusatory finger at you. “She doesn’t care about ruining relationships, all Y/N cares about is herself, Sharon! That’s why she’s been sleeping with Ari for months behind your back! And I kept her secret because I was being a good friend to her! Little did I know she fucked my boyfriend too!”

“That’s it, you’re fucking done,” Ari yanks Wanda off the stage, roughly pushing her down the steps all while keeping an iron grip on her forearm.

Thankfully, and yet a little too late, a stage hand drops the curtains. Dramatically, they fall down, shielding you from the stare and gossip of the audience. But you don’t feel any better. No, all you feel is pure, frozen shock. And the chaotic pantomime continues, even with the stage curtains now drawn.

“She’s been fucking Ari this whole time! She even fucked him out in the open at that frat party. In front of everyone, because that’s the type of slut she is!” Wanda cries out, stumbling over her words that act like bullets directed straight for Sharon. And, of course, you. “And she fucked Curtis too that night! Like the biggest fucking whore in the whole world! It’s true ‘cause he just told me! And God knows what she did with Steve, she probably let him smash too! As if slutting around on one campus wasn’t enough, she had to target a guy from a different college, and–”

She’s cut off by Ari plastering his huge hand over her mouth, all while she struggles and fights against him. He continues dragging her down the steps before throwing her into Curtis’ arms. Immediately, Wanda pacifies, grabbing on to Curtis for dear life while the buzzcut-haired man holds her gingerly.

“Get her out of here. I don’t care where the fuck you take her, I just want her gone.” Ari orders, narrowing his eyes when Curtis opens his mouth, “Don’t fucking argue with me, Everett. Go.”

Curtis rolls his eyes again, cautiously taking hold of Wanda who shuts up momentarily when she notices who’s holding her. She looks up at him with shining drunken eyes. “Curtis! You came back for me! Oh, I forgive you for fucking Y/N! I know she’s a huge slut and she probably seduced you! It wasn’t your fault at all, baby, I know that! Please let me be your girlfriend again, Curtis, please, I’ll do anything–”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Curtis grunts as he drags Wanda towards the exit. Thankfully, she’s docile enough in his arms, and easily goes with him.

Leaving carnage in her wake.

They all think I’m a slut, you think it again, still frozen in place. And I am! I am, I am, I am! I’m a backstabbing slut and this is what I deserve. Total public humiliation.

You pull yourself out of whatever catatonic state your body wants to shut you down into. The stage curtains are drawn and you’re protected from all the stares of the guests, and yet you feel like you can still hear the buzz of their whispers. The gossip formulating, your name on the tips of all their tongues. Spoken with disdain and disgust. Oh, you want nothing more than to just shut down and disappear. But you can’t. You can’t shut down yet, not yet. Instead, you force yourself to face Sharon head on, and come clean about what you should’ve come clean about ages ago.

“Sharon, please, just let me expl–”

“It’s not true, is it?” Sharon says slowly. Her cheeks look red, her eyes stricken, as if Wanda’s drunken bombshell has reached out and slapped her across the face. Her mouth downturned as if she’s about to cry, and yet she’s using every fibre of her being to hold herself together.

Ari chooses that moment to come up next to you, instinctively putting his hand on your shoulder. And Sharon looks from him to you back to him again. And then her face falls, and it’s like it’s all happening in slow motion and you’ve got a front row seat to someone’s heart being broken in real-time. Her face crumples as realisation dawns on her, and a whimpering sound leaves her mouth.

“It is true…” She breathes.

“I am so, so sorry,” You begin, not even knowing how to start. You feel numb and disorientated, like Wanda’s screaming expose has hit you like a freight train you may never recover from. And yet you know not to be selfish enough to make it all about you in this moment, not when Sharon looks so betrayed right in front of you. And yet a tear rolls down your cheek as you look at her, “Sharon, please understand how sorry I am. I know I should’ve told you before, there’s literally no excuse–”

“You’re right, there isn’t.” She cuts you off coldly, but the iciness doesn’t reach her eyes which shine with a mix of tears and betrayal. “How could you? You were supposed to be my friend. Th-This whole time I thought you were my friend…”

“Hey, leave her alone,” Ari interjects, positioning himself in front of you protectively. “If you want to be angry at someone, be angry at me. She’s already been through enough tonight.”

“DON’T YOU DARE DEFEND HER, YOU LYING PIECE OF SHIT!” Sharon bursts out in a blaze of fury, “For once in your life, show me a little bit of respect and don’t fucking defend the girl you cheated on me with right to my face! I was your girlfriend once upon a time, Ari. And you act like it meant nothing.”

Her voice breaks at the end, and she fiercely wipes away her tears. It smears up her makeup too, but she looks like she’s past the point of caring.

“All I’m saying is to leave Y/N out of this, Sharon. Whatever happened between me and her wasn’t her fault at all. You and I can discuss this privately.” Ari says, his tone hard and serious. He’s standing tall, as if being exposed for your joint betrayal has him completely unfazed. You, on the other hand, feel like you’re about two feet tall.

Sharon looks at Ari incredulously, before her eyes shift back to you as if she can’t help it. “I trusted you, Y/N.” She says brokenly, “I..I liked you. I liked you so much. You have no idea how much I…” Her voice trails off for a second before it hardens: “…and this whole time you were going behind my back.”

You swallow harshly, “I’m so sorry. Please, I know what I’ve done is unforgivable. But just believe me when I tell you that I’m so, so genuinely sorry. Wh-When me and Ari started… I didn’t even know you back then and I know that doesn’t excuse it–”

“IT DOESN’T EXCUSE IT!” Sharon screams, and beyond her shoulder you can see a few people peeping through the curtains as if to continue watching the show. “It doesn’t excuse it at all, Y/N! You had so many chances where you could’ve come clean to me, but you chose to lie to my fucking face.” She laughs bitterly, as if she can’t believe all this is actually happening. “Oh God, how stupid could I have been? All those times when I was crying to you about my breakup, or when I was trying to help you get through your boy troubles… All that time you were sleeping with Ari and I never suspected a damn thing?! Oh, you must’ve been laughing your ass off behind my back!”

You scramble to explain yourself, you want to say more, but it’s like your throat’s closing up now. Like you’re experiencing some type of allergic reaction. Your skin feels like it’s crawling, like your self-disgust has just boiled over the edge and you’re covered in the shame and guilt that’s been festering inside you. Except it’s now also mixed with the sheer humiliation from everything you’ve just experienced. What could you possibly say to explain yourself? She was right. She was one thousand percent right.

They were all right about you, the voice in your head cackles. Steve and Wanda and probably everyone else who’s thinking it right now. You’re a slut.

“Leave her the fuck alone, Sharon.” Ari threatens lowly, dropping his hand from your shoulder and taking a menacing step towards the blonde. “I mean it. Not another word.”

Sharon tilts her head, and you find her looking at you. Really looking at you. As if she’s searching the plains of your face to detect the level of your honesty. And you want to look away, want to look down because of how humiliated you are. But you look back at her meekly, feeling like a fucking backstabbing rat. Oh God, why had you not just come clean to her weeks ago when the two of you had first started becoming friends? Were you truly that spineless? Were you really that much of a coward?

“Get out.” Sharon says coldly, the hurt on her face now replaced with an impenetrable mask of stone-cold indifference. “Get out of here, Y/N. I don’t want to look at you. I thought we were friends but it’s like I don’t even know you. And I never knew you. So just get out of here. GET OUT!”

Her venomous words make you jump. Your lower lip quivers, and you feel like the dirt at the bottom of everyone’s shoe. Ari turns around, tries to grab your hand but you back away quickly. Your heel catches on something and you stumble. Regaining your balance, you see Ari coming towards you, and Sharon staring you down from behind him. The pity and concern in his eyes, the pure betrayal in hers. Oh, you don’t want any of it! You just wish you’d disappear!

You take off into a run, your heels clacking on the wooden floor noisily but you don’t care. You do exactly what Sharon’s told you to do – you run. Gathering up your dress so it doesn’t get caught in your shoes. Oh, and who cares if it did? Who cares at all? Certainly not you.

You run out into the full banquet hall, trying not to meet anyone’s gaze. Trying to block out what they’re whispering. You know they’re talking about you; you know they’re looking at you as if you’re the biggest backstabbing whore in the whole world. Which you are. Oh, how spectacularly everything had fallen apart!

Somewhere behind you, you can hear Ari calling out your name. But you don’t stop, don’t look back. Not this time. You weave through the crowd, your tears blurring your vision but you don’t dare stop. Out into the hotel lobby, down the marble steps adorned in grand red carpeting with gold tassels. Feeling like a warped Cinderella who wasn’t the helpless princess after all, but instead the backstabbing villain. Out the front entrance, and the doorman stares at you but you don’t care, and the outside cold hits you like a ton of bricks.

As if on cue, the wind roars loudly, slapping you in the face with all its might and fury. And you remember earlier tonight, when you’d wondered whether the winds had been trying to warn you about something. Oh, your intuition had been right! Why hadn’t you just stayed at home?! Now, the wind swirls around you threateningly, and you just stand there in the bitter cold, as if daring it to attack you. All around you, the grass rustles, the trees cower, the very ground seems to shake as gust after gust hits at you, and your hair comes loose, and you’re about to start crying in earnest, and–

“Y/N, wait! Stop!” Ari grabs your hand, his familiar warmth shooting through your entire body. He pulls you into his arms, embracing you fiercely. Your burst into ferocious tears that you hadn’t realised you’d been holding in. Loud, wracking sobs muffled by his strong chest as he holds you close. “I’m so sorry that happened, baby. I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”

“I did!” You cry, another gust of wind hitting you like a wake-up call, and you push off of him with tears streaming down your face. “I did deserve it, Ari! I deserved all of it!”

There’s an invisible whirlpool around the two of you. Maybe you’re imagining it in your delirium, but it’s like a swirling of energy, entrapping the two of you together on this stormy night. The wind howls around you both, ringing in your ears as if to warn you again, telling you this is all wrong, wrong, wrong!

And Ari looks at you like his whole heart’s in his eyes, and they glisten with emotion that you’ve never seen in him before. And he holds you close, and cups your face. He wipes your tears as if to soothe you, but how could you soothe someone who was so beyond repair that perhaps repair wasn’t even an option anymore? How!?

“Let me take you home,” he whispers, “I don’t want you to be alone tonight. Please, let’s just go. And I swear I’ll deal with everything; I’ll deal with all of them. I’ll make them pay for hurting you. Just please, stop crying and come with me.”

“No!” You snatch your hand out of his and step back, shaking your head fiercely. “Don’t you get it, Ari? We’re not right together and we never will be!”

“That’s not true–”

“Yes, it is!” You sob freely, “How many people do we have to hurt for it to sink in that we just don’t work?” Ferociously, you wipe at your tears, not that it matters when new one’s flow down your cheeks freely, “All we ever do is fight, Ari! We just run around in circles and fight and hurt each other and hurt everyone around us! And now I know it’s ‘cause we just don’t work, and we never will!”

“No.” Ari says firmly, “I’m the one who hurt people, okay? Not us. Just me. And you got caught in the crossfire and I’m fucking sorry.”

You shake your head, “It doesn’t matter anymore. None of it matters, Ari. They all think I’m a slut and they’re all right! And I’ll never live this down and I don’t deserve to live it down! So just leave me alone, okay? JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!”

“NO!” Ari roars, louder than the wind itself, and louder than you too. “No, I’m not fucking leaving you alone! I told you that I care about you, and I’m never gonna leave you alone. So just… just come on. Let me take you home, baby. I’ll make it better, I promise.”

The blustering winds form an impenetrable current around the two of you, whistling and swirling with rogue leaves like a tornado that you seem to be trapped in with him. And in an ironic way, it perfectly encapsulates your relationship with him: a whirlwind. A tornado. A constant uphill battle filled with fights and arguments, always one step forward and then two steps back. Maybe it was time to just give up, to come to terms with how it just didn’t work between you and him.

You sniffle weakly, “Nothing can make this better. Whatever there was between us, it was never going to work. Not when it started out as a lie.”

Tenderly, yet charged with an electric emotion you can’t quite pinpoint, he cups your face again. Your freezing wet cheeks welcome the warmth they bring, despite everything.

“I’ll make it better,” Ari repeats, softer this time. He presses his forehead against yours. “You mean more to me than Sharon or anyone else ever did. And I know our relationship started out wrong because I lied to you. Constantly. I know that. But I promise you I’ll make it all better and you’ll never hurt again how you’re hurting now.”

You feel like you’re at a crossroads. You’ve gone through more emotional turmoil in these past few weeks than you have in any other point of your life. And each time, you’ve fallen back into Ari’s arms in a heap of tears. So, what about this time? Would you do the same thing again? Another circle? Another fight? Another heartbreak?

“I’m in love with you.” Ari breathes. And in that moment, even the winds stand still. And his eyes look like twin oceans with stars scattered inside them. And those stars in his eyes, those stars get bigger and bigger till they’re all you can see. And you can’t hear anything anymore, except for his breathing and yours. And you can feel only one thing, and that’s his hands cupping your cheeks as he gazes at you with a look of desperation mixed with something else. Something passionate. And honest. “I’m in love with you, okay? I’ve never been in love before but I’m pretty positive that I love you, and I promise I’ll protect you from ever being hurt again.”

In the distance, beyond his shoulder, a branch from a tree falls to the ground. As if unable to stand the wrath of the wind on this night. It crashes down, all the way down till it’s no longer a part of what it had once always known. You focus on it for a split second, before some kind of magnetic pull makes you look back to Ari.

“Why does it always take some sort of traumatic event for you to say these things?” You whisper, letting his words bounce off you. Not letting them permeate into your heart and set camp, not allowing them to let you hope. Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted to hear from him!?

“I’ve felt this way for a while,” he says earnestly, “I just didn’t want to admit it to myself. But I told you, I’m ready now. For everything. I love you, and I want everyone to know it.” He draws you closer, cradling your face in his warm hands. How are they so warm on such a cold night? How was he so warm when you felt so cold, cold, cold?! So freezing cold from the inside out?

I love you. I’m in love with you. I promise I’ll protect you. I love you. I love you. I love you.

Oh, his words were finding their way into your heart! You take a timid step closer, allow yourself to look into his eyes. Everything was crashing and burning around you. Your life was ruined, and so was your reputation. Everyone thought you were a slut and you had no friends left at all. But Ari was here. Solid. Real. Right in front of you. Saying all the right things on a night that had gone so horrifically wrong. Should you allow yourself this? Did you deserve it? Did he?

His lips have barely brushed against yours when you hear a loud shatter right next to you.

“You told me you weren’t going to be with him tonight.”

Steve. Standing less than a foot away from you. A glass bottle lying broken by his feet, the smell of vodka strongly emanating from him. His hair falls over his forehead, swaying gently in the roaring wind. His eyes black, blown out, barely there. Hooded, like he’s sad. Betrayed. Oh, how did he even get here!?

Your jaw drops open, “Steve, I–”

“How fucking dare you show your face in front of her after everything you put her through?” Ari growls, pushing you behind him before squaring up to Steve. “Get the fuck out of here, Rogers. Before I break your neck.”

You swallow harshly, “Ari, don’t…”

Steve sidesteps Ari, and those sad eyes look straight at you. Penetrating down straight to your soul.

“You kissed me earlier tonight, but now you’re choosing him.”

He says it matter-of-factly, his words slurring slightly but still clear as day. You feel a pang in your heart. From your peripheral, you see Ari bristle at Steve’s words, clearly taken aback by what he’s just revealed.

You open your mouth, but it feels all dried up. Like you’re back in the middle of the stage with an audience of people watching you get exposed for your betrayal.

“You don’t have to answer him.” Ari says to you, quickly recovering and grabbing your hand protectively before turning back to sneer at Steve. “Get the hell out of here. Tonight isn’t the night for your bullshit.”

“He’ll only hurt you,” Steve says, ignoring Ari and looking directly at you. “I told you; all Ari ever does is hurt people.”

“Shut your fucking mouth, Steve, or else I’ll–”

“Or else you’ll what, Ari? I don’t give a fuck what you do.” Steve finally looks at the brunet, squaring up to him till they’re both face to face. Each as big as the other, each as menacing as the other. But that’s where the similarities end. Ari looks wary, on edge. And Steve? Steve looks like he has nothing left to lose.

“Oh yeah? Is that why you’ve been dodging me all these weeks?” Ari barks out a laugh, but it sounds hollow, almost forced. And his eyes keep darting between Steve and back to you. “I’m telling you for the last time, Rogers. Walk away so she doesn’t have to see me kill you.”

“Stop acting like some kind of fucking hero, Ari. You of all people should know that’s not what you are.” Steve fires back, “You’ll hurt her, just like you hurt–”

“My car’s parked around the corner. You know what it looks like. Go, I don’t want you to see this.” Ari says to you, his hand dropping yours as he keeps his eyes on the blonde in front of him. You watch as his fists clench by his sides.

There’s a pause before Steve laughs. And just like Ari’s from earlier, Steve’s laugh sounds hollow too. Like neither of them are enjoying this confrontation. And neither are you, and yet your feet remain planted to the ground. The winds are still howling around you, encasing the three of you in a whirlpool. And within it, you sense the strongest feeling of foreboding you’ve felt yet.

“You still haven’t told her, have you?” Steve accuses.

A dark, anxious feeling pools inside your chest, twisting your veins, reaching straight for your heart. More secrets? “Tell me what, Ari?”

“Go to my car, I’m serious.”

“I heard your little speech from just now. I heard all your promises. How you’ll never hurt her again,” Steve shoves Ari. And it’s a drunken shove, but a hard one. “How you’ll protect her,” another shove, “How you’re in love with her.”

“Shut the fuck up, Steve. You have no idea what you’re–”

“Tell me, is that what you told my sister too?”

Everything stops. Even the wind, with how fierce and mighty it had been all night, comes to a screeching halt. It’s like the grass stops rustling, the trees stop swaying. You think your heart has stopped too. Steve’s sister? Kira? Ari knew her? The dark, anxious feeling doubles up, multiplies in a millisecond. You feel like your insides have turned to tar, and your blood freezes in the worst way possible.

“Wh-What’s he talking about, Ari?” Your question comes out soft, timid. As if you’re afraid of the answer.

Ari’s head whips around, and his cheeks are flushed. His jaw tensed, his eyes wild. Quickly, he shakes his head, “He doesn’t know what he’s saying, okay? Clearly, he’s drunk, and high off of something, and he doesn’t know what he’s saying–”

“WHAT THE FUCK DID KIRA EVER DO TO YOU, ARI?!” Steve erupts, making you jump. Ari flinches too, but Steve closes in on him, his dark eyes blazing. “What did she ever do to you? Except trust you?” He laughs bitterly, “Maybe that was her mistake. Trusting someone like you.” And then he looks straight at you, “Don’t make the same mistake, Y/N. He’ll run you out of this place just like he did my sister.”

Your lower lip quivers, “What do you mean?”

Ari grabs your hand and pulls you back, “Let’s just go. He doesn’t know what he means. He has no fucking clue what he’s talking about.”

Like it’s a hot poker, you pull your hand out of his grip, staring up at him incredulously.

“I have no fucking clue, huh? As if I haven’t been in the same house as her, watching her lock herself up in her room and cry for the past fucking year!” Steve says, and this time he squares up to Ari again, grabbing the brunet’s collar to make him look at him. “As if I haven’t watched her become a fucking shell of her former self, as if I haven’t watched her lose her smile, lose her personality, lose her fucking will to interact with anyone. All because of you!”

Now it’s Ari’s turn to shove Steve, and he does it with full force. Steve stumbles backwards, and Ari looks at him in fury. And yet he doesn’t say anything, nothing at all. And the sticky black tar coats your heart and starts seeping into your lungs, making it hard for you to breathe. Making it hard for you to make sense of what’s going on. Oh god, what exactly was Steve saying?! And why wasn’t Ari denying anything?!

“You can’t even deny it anymore, can you?” Steve spits out, “And now you’re out here actin’ like a fuckin’ superhero, promising Y/N the entire world. Well, why don’t you answer my question, Levinson? Is that what you promised Kira too? Is that what you fucking promised her before you spread those pictures of her to every fucking person you know?”

That’s when you feel like the wind’s been knocked out of you. You feel faint, dizzy. Like you’re no longer real. Ari turns to look at you, and you can’t even begin to decipher his expression but it’s like you no longer want to look at him. Pictures? Like nudes? Ari? Spreading private pictures of Kira around campus??? You shake your head, willing him to say something, to deny it all vehemently.

“She’s my sister,” Steve’s voice breaks, an outpouring of emotion that you’ve never ever seen from him. His face red, his fists clenched but not in anger, more so in desperate sadness. “She’s my sister and you were my friend and you fucking broke her, Ari. She couldn’t handle it, everyone talking about her, laughing at her. You ran her out of school, and you broke her. And now you’re gonna do the same thing to Y/N too.”

Ari swallows, looking stricken how you’ve never seen him look before. He sucks in his breath, and when he speaks, it sounds like it’s a stranger talking: “Don’t even act like you have Y/N’s best interests at heart, after what you did to her. And you have no idea what you’re sayi–”

“This is who he is!” Steve erupts again, this time looking straight at you, “My sister was so fucking trusting, she did whatever he asked her to. She sent him pictures that were supposed to be private, all ‘cause he told her to. She never should’ve trusted an asshole like him but she did, she trusted him with everything she had, and now look at her.” He shakes his head, his entire body shaking from either anger or grief or both. “And Kira, she was so broken over it, she told me never to mention it again to anyone, she made me promise not to. But you need to know who he really is. He’s a fucking asshole who’ll hurt anyone! He hurt Kira, he hurt Sharon, and he’ll hurt you too.”

“Let’s go,” Ari says to you, gathering himself and grabbing your hand, “Let’s just go and I’ll explain everything.”

For the second time, you snatch your hand away from his and shake your head, your mind racing and you think you’re going to be sick. Oh God, how many more times would Ari lie to you? “Don’t touch me.”

“Baby, I said I’d explain–”

“You knew Steve’s sister this whole time?”

“Yes, but–”

“Wh-Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you mention it even once?” Your voice sounds high, like you’re about to start crying from shock. And betrayal. You suck in your breath. He’d been hiding this from you, so what else was he hiding?

He tries to grab your hand again, but you take a step back in disbelief.

“Don’t you dare touch me. Y-You’re a liar! You lied again. You told me you wouldn’t lie to me but you lied again!” Oh, you feel like you don’t even know him anymore! Did you ever truly know him to begin with? You think back to Kira, so anxious that she couldn’t even look you in the eye. Had Ari really hurt her so badly? Spread around nude pictures of her and ruined her life and then continued on with his own as if none of it had even happened? “H-How could you do that to her? How could you–”

Ari opens his mouth to speak, but that’s when Steve tackles him. You scream, caught off-guard as the two behemoths fall to the ground. The wind resumes its wicked gusts, and this time it’s like it’s taunting you. Taunting you for forcing yourself time and time again to live in this fairytale utopia where Ari and you could ever possibly work. Each slap of cold air on your face reminding you that nothing, nothing in the whole world, could ever make the two of you work.

And maybe it was written in the stars, maybe this fight was bound to happen between the two of them. And yet you can’t make sense of it, watching with stricken horror as Steve grabs Ari’s collar again.

“You sick, twisted bastard! Fuck you for ruining my sister!” Steve punches him, but Ari quickly dodges it. And Steve’s movements are slower, sluggish. You feel sick thinking of how much he’s had to drink tonight. He was already drunk hours ago when he’d showed up at your dorm room, but now? Now he looks doubly wasted, teetering on the verge of no return and completely past the point of even caring about it.

Steve’s fuelled by alcohol and a tragic rage. No, rage was the wrong word, because the anger he was exhibiting now was nothing like when he’d punched the wall or when he’d lost his cool at basketball practice. Now, it felt different. Like he was charged by his own sadness, and an underlying sense of resignation. Like a part of him didn’t care what would happen to him by the end of tonight. Like he was getting all his punches in before he… before he…

“Stop!” You finally find your voice and yell out, but it doesn’t carry, your words getting lost in the wind. Ari shoves Steve off of him, dragging both of them to their feet. Steve throws another punch, and Ari dodges it just in time so instead of his fist connecting with his jaw, it slams painfully against his shoulder. But Ari doesn’t flinch.

“You have no fucking clue what you’re talking about!” Ari snarls, drawing his fist back to punch back. That’s when you throw all caution to the wind and run forward, coming between them.

“Don’t, Ari! He’s drunk, and he took all this medication, and…” your voice trails off, but the worry is evident in your tone as the realisation hits you. His medication for his mood swings. How much of it had he taken? Ari pauses, still glaring daggers at Steve, who looks back at him just as venomously.

“HIT ME, LEVINSON! DO IT, JUST HIT ME!” Steve shouts, louder than the wind itself. “It’s not like I’ve got shit to lose, so go right ahead! I’ve said what I had to say and now I’m fucking done.” His face twists, veins popping in his forehead, his blonde locks brushing over his wild eyes as they rest on you. His gaze softens somewhat, like a drunken, tragic hero. “I’m done, Y/N. It’s okay, I’m done. And I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for scaring you. I hope one day you’ll be able to forgive me.”

Why was he talking like that? You have no time to contemplate his words, however. Because Ari steps forward in front of you, his fist clenched to his side. And you’ve never seen him look this angry, and once more he draws his fist back, and you try to find your voice to stop him but nothing comes out. And the wind hits its crescendo, and there’s a clap of thunder serving as an exclamation point to this disastrous evening. Your entire body jerks, as if expecting something terrible to happen, and you close your eyes and you brace yourself…

A loud thud. You open your eyes, a scream getting caught in your throat when you see Steve on the ground. Motionless.

“Ari, what did you do!?” You cry.

Ari turns to you, breathing hard and yet he’s got a confused look on his face. His fist is still clenched but he shakes his head in shock.

“Nothing. I swear I didn’t do anything, he just… He just collapsed.”

You run over, crouch down next to Steve, trying to survey any damage. Sure enough, his face looks pristine, apart from a bluish-purple hue to his pale skin that you hadn’t noticed before. No signs of having been punched, however. But it’s his eyes that catch your attention, stricken and looking straight up. Almost like he’s unresponsive, when just a second ago he’d been on his feet and just fine.

“Oh god, oh my god. Steve!?” Your voice goes high with panic. With trembling hands, and quick, flurrying movements, you shake his shoulders. But all that does is make his head loll back, and he’s still staring up at the sky with a glassy look on his face, not reacting to you at all. Almost like he’s on another planet. Trying to keep your panic at bay, you quickly try and feel for his pulse, and that’s when you really start to lose it.

“Oh my god, Ari, he-he doesn’t have a pulse! I can’t find his pulse, I c-can’t– ARI, DO SOMETHING!”

Ari, who up until this moment seemed to be frozen in shock, staring at his still clenched fist as he stood over the two of you, seems to finally snap out of it. He springs into action, pushing you aside and crouching down next to the blond. He grabs his wrist while you look on, horrified beyond belief over what exactly was happening in front of your eyes.

He knew that mixing alcohol with his medication was dangerous, you think to yourself, another bout of sick realisation dawning on you. He’s pre-med, he’s studying to be a doctor. Of course, he knew! Had he… had he meant to do this? Oh God…

“He’s got a pulse,” Ari mutters, “He’s got one but it’s weak.”

Tears gather in your eyes as your head starts to spin, “H-He was on this medication, he told me earlier F-For his mood swings or something. And he was drinking too, and he probably took his pills and he drank and, oh God, I should’ve done something! I didn’t think it was that bad, I didn’t–”

“We need to call 911.” Ari says firmly, and you’re relieved that at least one of you is keeping their wits about them. You don’t know whether Ari’s just good under pressure or whether he’s in genuine shock too, judging by the frozen look on his face. Nevertheless, you watch him as he stands up, getting his phone out of his pocket and dialling the number.

And, almost like in cruel irony, the howling winds that had been swirling around you have now gone silent. Deathly silent. It’s like the three of you are in a vacuum, and yet you can barely even hear Ari talking on the phone. All you can hear is your fucking heart in your chest, and the racing of your own thoughts: this is my fault, this is my fault, this is my fault…

“Come on, Steve!” You urge, grabbing his hand and almost recoiling because of how limp and cold it feels. He’d been so warm when you’d kissed him hours earlier, so warm and soft. And it seems like lightyears ago, that kiss followed by the breathless silence. How you’d noted how he looked like he was one sip away from disaster. Oh, why hadn’t you done more? You could have sobered him up, but you’d been so wrapped up in your own problems. And now?

“P-Please, don’t do this. Just wake up. Or say something, just please!” And you don’t know why you’re having such a reaction – wasn’t it you who’d told Steve hours ago how you and him barely even knew each other? How there was nothing between the two of you? How he’d ruined all of that? Then why, why, why was your heart burning up right now? Like a ball of fire deep in your chest, waiting to explode. You tap his cheek desperately, noting the blueish tone of his lips, wondering why you hadn’t noticed that earlier. Beating yourself up over it.

“They’re coming,” you hear Ari say behind you, “An ambulance is on its way. It’s gonna be okay.”

But you don’t even hear him, too busy thinking back to when Steve had been in your dorm room earlier tonight. The sad look in his eyes as he’d turned to leave after your kiss. You can feel your tears soaking up your freezing cold cheeks now as you squeeze his hand.

“I forgive you, okay? I forgive you! Just wake up, please! Steve, just wake up! Didn’t you hear me? I forgive you!”

Your tears blur your vision, and his face becomes a pale blur. Fiercely, you wipe your eyes with your one free hand. And vaguely, you can feel Ari’s hand on your shoulder. And his is so warm. And Steve’s is so cold. Hot and cold. Cold and hot. You don’t even notice when you feel your own hand being squeezing lightly.

“That’s good,” Steve says faintly, his lips barely moving. You gasp and move closer, hoping you haven’t imagined it. His eyes flutter gently, like he doesn’t want to keep them open anymore. But his face looks relaxed, so relaxed that it’s scary, and it feels like you’re looking at a ghost. Those blue lips part once more. “Don’t worry about me. I’m comfortably numb, remember? I think I finally made it last…”

“No, no, no, no…” you scramble, watching as his eyes slip shut. You squeeze his hand again, shake at his shoulders, tap his cheek. Oh no, no, no, no. And all around you, the trees start swaying once more. The great gusts of wind continue, almost like they never even stopped, and another branch falls to the ground. The grass rustles beneath where Steve lies, and the moonlight shines on his face, making his pallor look a deathly kind of beautiful. Like an angel.

And it reminds you of the first night you’d met him. The night you’d dreamed of him. He’d looked like an angel in your dreams too.

The wind whistles with great might, and it sounds like a cackle. As if it’s mocking you. And Steve is still, and Ari’s still holding firmly on to you, and you can barely hear the blare of the siren as the ambulance slowly approaches.

A/N: .....did Steve just.... OH MY GODDD. Well, if you made it this far then congratulations!!! I really hope y'all liked it. I'm so scared it didn't live up to expectations. I KNOW there was no smut but you guys I tried my best to see where I could fit it in... I just couldn't justify putting it in anywhere in the story and it actually making sense, pls understand! UGHHH I'm just so insecure about this chapter, but if you liked it PLESE PLEASE let me know what you think! Any thoughts, comments, feedback would genuinely be appreciated SO much like SO SO much omfg. Like any favourite parts etc? I really wanted to focus on romantic scenes between reader and the two guys and i hope i showed that! BUT YEAH PLS LMK WHAT YOU THINK ILY ILY.

Okay and as usual, here are some questions!! (y'all don't have to answer them, but just in case anyone does!!!)

Which romantic scene did you prefer? Steve coming up reader's window or Ari taking reader on a picnic? OR NEITHER???

What are your thoughts on Carla Wanda after this chapter??? LMFAOO.

Why was Sharon more upset with reader than with Ari? Hmm.....

Did Ari really spread Kira's nudes around :( ?? Or do you think there's more to the story?

TEAM ARI OR TEAM STEVE? ( if he's okay that is damn )

AND THAT'S IT! Hope y'all enjoyed it! I'm gonna stop yapping now bahahaha byeee ily ily ily

[romanoffsbish]

Wrong Choice …

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

This is my honest approach to the jealousy trope, because if it was IRL, I’d like to think a lot of us would just be insecure, and far less brazen. (Not that I don’t love a good jealous / smutty coupling)

Warnings: Jealousy, Fighting, Mean words muttered in anger, Injured reader, poor communication. Insecurities: •Natasha—Fear of abandonment | •Reader—Fear of being cheated on (again) / Used

18+ | Minors DNI |

Smut: Daddy(R), Good Girl (N), ‘Oral’(N-Sucking off a strap/getting throat fucked), Riding (N-Strap), Nipple stimulation (N), Teasing(N/R), lightweight Subby Natty. Kinks: Bulge, Degradation, Cock warming. (This wasn’t even supposed to happen, this was going to be smutless)

Natasha Romanoff is an absolute flirt, it's a well established notion around the compound, her smirk alone had the potential to inspire a room full of sexual tension. It’s not entirely her fault, it's been engrained in her psyche from all her forced training that it's now just apart of her daily banter. Her particular skillset was how she eventually won you over, and after making things official with her over a year ago you'd thought all the flirting would stop with you, but boy were you completely wrong.

Standing in a corner of the tower with your cosmo in hand you were silently seething. Across the way was a sight you'd never wanted to see, but no matter how hard you tried to look away you just couldn't bring yourself to. There stood Natasha, the love of your life, with her hands on the sizable bicep of none other than Bucky—her former booty call, and it all made you feel incredibly small, as if you weren't enough for her anymore, or maybe it was that you simply never were.

———————————

When she asked you out you thought you were the luckiest girl alive, but now you realize you were holding onto a childish hope with her. Natasha was beyond gorgeous, and could have anyone she wanted, but she'd settled for you. Maybe this was her finally realizing that, and breaking up with you just slipped her mind, or better yet, maybe this was her way of doing it. Insecurities plagued your mind, your previous 'this is what you deserve,' and the 'you'll never find someone willing to stay,' mantras ringing throughout your head on a continual loop.

A stream of tears falls down your cheeks before you could stop them, memories of your last two relationships coming back in flashes, hitting you like a freight train, and the idea that it could be happening all over again made your stomach twist into unbearable knots. It hurt twice as bad since she knew all about your most recent previous relationship with Sharon; just enough to know that the woman was an asshole who took advantage of your never ending well of kindness, and that she deserved to disappear off the face of the Earth for ever making you cry like she always managed to do.

Your phone buzzing pulled you from your short lived pity party when it was Fury's name flashing across your screen., "Agent Y/L/N, care to assist Commander Hill on a mission tonight? I'm aware there's a party, but I'd —." The poor guy couldn't even finish his thoughts, "I'm on my way.," your voice dangerous as your feet carry you out of the tower and to your car; Natasha can surely find her own ride home, or better yet she can stay with Bucky, ride him for all you care and leave your apartment empty.

—

Natasha was holding the pose perfectly, the subtle, but not really subtle touch of the arm, paired with the exaggerated laughter, and the inappropriate amount of side boob on display. If she played her cards right you'd be ripping her from the soldier, and out of the party in no time to remind her just where she belongs; Beneath you, as your tongue was relentless with its attacks on her, the thought alone had her soaking through her undergarments.

Bucky however takes notice of you, he began to shake her off, "Natasha, your girlfriend looks hurt.," his heart stuttering at the sight of your clearly distorted face. "The whole point is to make them jealous! Steve's glaring daggers into my back right now, and Y/N's—." Bucky interrupts her, "Leaving..."

Natasha turns around so fast the soldier's metal arm has to catch her so that she doesn't wind up eating shit. The glimpse of your wet cheeks telling her she royally fucked up here, "No, why is she crying? I, this wasn't supposed to happen.," she looks to the soldier for clarity, "Natasha, do you not know the hell she's been through? Honestly, I never should've indulged in your silly game because now she's hurting. Sharon cheated on her in her own apartment, and Maritza did that and then some to the poor girl, and now here we are playing an immature game of jealousy to have a steamy night."

Natasha's already running as Bucky airs his grievances, grabbing her coat from the hanger and charging out of the thick doors just in time to hear tires screech, and to see your brake lights as you tear out of the compound lot. Natasha's anxiety was through the roof, she wasn't even considering the prospect of a  negative reaction, but fuck did she feel stupid now after the full picture was before her.

——

Natasha has been unavailable to the world, every phone call ignored, and though most can figure out where she is, they know better than to just show up at your apartment and get her. It had been a week since she last saw you, even longer since she got to hold you or to feel your lips due to just returning from her own mission, and her already fragile heart was breaking more and more everyday. Nobody knew where you went, and if they did they surely weren't telling her, so she'd taken up a permanent residence on your couch. Marvin your calico appreciated the company, or at least he did up until she began to use him as a living tissue for her nonstop well of tears.

It was about 2pm on a Friday when she heard keys jangling in the door, her eyes widening at the state of herself, and the surrounding mess taking over the living room of the apartment. Food wrappers of all kinds covered the coffee table next to her gallon of water, she smiled goofily at the thought of you being proud of her for staying hydrated, but then reality sunk back in, and she remembered how hurt you looked when you left without a word that night.

When the door finally creaked open she stood up from her permanently molded spot on your couch, taking in a steadying breath as she was anticipating seeing your face as it rounded the corner., "Sestra, Jeez, you look like the shit!," The redhead's shoulders deflated at the sight of Yelena, and she wondered if this was your way of breaking the news to her that you weren't ever coming back, and though she tried to fight it off she began to hyperventilate to the thought of you never returning to her.

Dreams were not much of a factor for her previously, but something about the way you smiled at her inspired her to live life like it was hers for the taking, and with you she soon realized it genuinely was. Life with you was everything she had ever wanted, and more ; even without discussing the future in too much detail in fear of rushing you, or coming off too strong she knew she wanted you there for every possible milestone there was to come.

Every first that ever counted to her was with you, no one had ever taken such care with her before, and though you weren't her first, you were the first person to make love to her. You'd reassured her when she hesitated that there was no rush, and you stayed true to your words as you took your time cherishing her. Every other encounter she has ever had was rough, and rushed as they used her for their own selfish needs then left come morning. She'd burst into tears about halfway through, you were nothing if not gentle, and it was then that she knew she was safe with you.

Something as mundane as having her morning coffee became an adventure for her; the both of you dancing around the other in the kitchen, sharing soft touches, and stealing glances while preparing for your separate days full of work. The morning routine almost always ended the same, you would be sat on the counter with Natasha stood in between your legs, your face in her hands as she slowly made out with you until the very last possible second, sometimes she'd even rationalized being late for just a few more minutes with you.

Silence had always been something that really bothered her, countless nights chained to a bed in the red-room where all she could hear were the leaky pipes, squeaks of mice, and cries of her fellow widows enough to make her wary. Then she came to learn over time that it was something you needed after a long day of work; you'd be tending to your shrubbery while she lounged on your soft recliner with a good book. No words were spoken, but the silence wasn't terrifying with you, the atmosphere was warm, and beyond welcoming; Marvin's purrs, pages shifting, and water trickling would be the only thing heard throughout the hour, and it never ceased to calm her chronically frantic mind.

You were her calm in every storm.

Everyone who was supposed to protect her, and to love her had left her behind like it was the easiest thing to do, and it was always a sore spot for her; that's why it took her three years to let you in, and now she's faced with losing you in much the same way, and she can't do it. What hurts her the most though is knowing it would've been her fault this time; that her sunshine was actually gone all because she was trying to spice up an already amazing enough sex life by means of pointless jealousy.

Yelena watched her sister collapse to the floor, of course she knew why, and though it hurt to see her so visibly broken she also struggled to find any sympathy for the redhead. Still, she lowered herself to the floor and held her close while her body violently shook with sobs., "Lena, where is she?! I-I want to tell her I'm sorry, it was all so stupid, and now she's gone.," Yelena hummed in acknowledgment, one hand on her sister's back as she traced calming circles while her other was extending out to reach for your baby cactus., "Da sestra, you are indeed very stupid, she'll come back, but that doesn't mean you deserve her forgiveness."

Natasha sobbed even louder at the harsh truth her sister unleashed, and Yelena slowly moved the cactus beneath her sister's cheek in a sly attempt to do as you'd asked of her., "I know, but—.," Natasha paused as something harsh brushed against her face., "Lena, what the hell are you doing?," Yelena looked at her sister as if it was the most obvious thing., "Y/N asked me to come over to refill Marvin's automatic feeder, and to water the plants, so since you were crying so many of the rivers I thought I'd kill two pigs, with the one pebble."

Natasha blinks away the remaining tears, her sisters words turning her off from her own grief., "So she has access to her phone then?," the question slips out and Yelena simply nods, always having refused to lie to either one of you for the other, regardless of the circumstances.

Natasha laughs, the short and bitter rumbling in her chest a bit of a shock to the blonde., "So, instead of facing me she's hiding? Leaving me to cry myself to sleep every night without even a text to let me know she's alive?!" Yelena was quick to stand as her sisters anger festered, moving around your apartment rather quickly in an attempt to avoid her sister's wrath, but it wasn't working,, "I can't fucking believe her! She didn't even talk to me about it! She just ran off like a big fucking baby, that's it, I'm dating an actual child.. When did that happen?! Maybe this was a sign, yeah? That nothing good is ever meant to last, and I should just put an end to the misery now."

Yelena dropped the bag of kibbles onto the floor much to Marvin's delight, in three quick strides she was face to face with her sister, and though her face was neutral she was pissed., "No Natalia, you don't get to be mad here, you tried to make the already insecure woman jealous, and it's not like it was a random floozy, no, it was your ex fuck buddy Bucky Barnes.," Yelena's hands were gripping onto her sister's shoulders tightly, shaking her with every word.

"Running was her defense mechanism, it's called fight or flight, and you triggered it by bringing back up her falsehoods of never being enough.," Natasha shook out of the hold and fell back onto the couch in a shamed silence., "Do you know how many nights I had held her trembling body after Sharon and Maritza?," Yelena was crying herself as she recalled it all, "Then I put all my trust in you to take care of her heart, and somehow after a year of success you just fucked it all up, then have the nerve to act like the jilted party here because she's taking her time with forgiving you."

Natasha just looks up at her sister as if she were a wounded puppy, and the blonde sighs., "If anything you should be proud of her Nat, because the old Y/N would've come running back to you without a single doubt, and I would have resented you for it had you let her do it." The redhead nods, and settles her cheek atop of her bent knees, eyes returning to the TV once more and the blonde takes that as her sign to go, leaving with a kiss to her forehead, and a text message sent to you.

—

*Go home, and either fix this or set her free.*

It's not that you didn't want to go home, because you missed your own bed like crazy. It's that you felt like an idiot for just running out, and accepting a mission in a fit of anger. You'd been completely off your game, and Maria wound up having you replaced after the third day when you took a bullet to the left shoulder that left you incapable of helping.

Being in the shield medical wing in a foreign country left you with a lot of time to think, and to read all of Natasha's hundreds of messages where you were able to not only see, but feel the desperation as it jumped off of the screen and settled into your cracked open heart. Regardless of her thoughtless flirting, you felt inclined to forgive her as it didn't take you much reading to realize her true intentions. You'd refused to have the conversation over text though, because so much gets lost through digital communication, and you wouldn't want anything else to go wrong.

Fortunately for the sake of your relationship Maria promised she'd pick you up today, the mission proving rather successful even with your hiccup, and you were relieved for that. The relief was short lived as the next wave of anxiety rolled through you, and it was directly linked to having to face Natasha after a week of inexplicable silence, Yelena's text didn't help you to stay calm, nor did watching the angry footage from your home security cameras.

Nonetheless, you loaded into the jet with a nervous smile on your face, and spent the entire three hours in the air going over what you should say. Much to Maria's dismay too as she was forced to play the role of a soundboard. When she was shoving you out of the jet faster than you could unbuckle with the excuse of mission reports you were chuckling, then for the fun of it all, or to simply call her bluff you texted Fury 'You're welcome for the increased productivity, expect Hill's reports by 5pm.,' You knew how much the commander hated all the paperwork, her usual excuses were actually pretty funny but you felt she deserved this slight for being so pushy.

The uplifted mood was short lived when you climbed into your car, excruciating jolts of pain radiated all throughout your body as you were forced to use your shoulder to drive around, but once you got settled on the road the pain had faded. It just couldn't compete with your stuttering heart the closer you got to your apartment. You'd taken the long way to give yourself time to calm down, even stopping off for a quality bottle of vodka and loads of snacks in preparation for the hypothesized long night.

Entering your own place had never been a point of stress before—come to think of it, neither had talking to your beautiful redhead. This is the first official form of dissension to ever arise in your otherwise solid relationship. Sure, you've definitely had arguments over the little thing; like cleaning up after oneself, or Marvin's diet, but it always ended the same—with cuddles and laughter as Natasha would grumble that her bra does indeed belong on the coat rack, and you'd reluctantly concede that five pieces of salami as a treat for 'being adorable,' was a bit much for the lazy feline.

The both of you were insanely stubborn, opinionated women who took their time in falling but subsequently loved really hard. Which really only leaves room for two routes, this will either be resolved instantaneously or it will become a heated blowout, and you just hope that if it's the latter that it doesn't mean everything is coming to an end, because now that the anger had faded you couldn't seem to imagine your life without the woman.

She was the woman of your dreams after all.

After shaking out some nerves you steadily put the key into the knob, quietly opened the door, then nearly collapsed at the sight of your space. A week, in seven days time she'd managed to make it a filthy mess, it was rather impressive. Funny too, because nobody else knew that she was a slob, her record for being all put together would crumble if you just sent Tony a picture. Shaking your head of the deadly idea you move in to pet an impatient Marvin behind the ears, then peer into the living room to see Natasha.

She was sleeping, you'd say peacefully but the tear stained cheeks, and body tremors gave way to the truth that she was in total misery. Settling your items onto the counter you pulled down two shot glasses in preparation then left it all on the counter so you could approach the love of your life without needing booze first., "Tasha...," she shifted, even grumbled some, but she remained asleep., "Honey, I need you to wake up, I think it's about time we talked."

Natasha was deep in a nightmare, one where you had that exact talk, and it wasn't anywhere close to as sweet as you're trying to be. It was an all out screaming match, and your words were haunting: 'A natural heartbreaker, you don't deserve me, and more to the point you're unlovable.,' 'You're just the common man's whore Natalia, always eager to please, a total fucking slut.,' 'Hope whoring yourself out was worth it Nat, because you've lost me for good.'

Your last words being, 'Get out, and never come back, you're no longer welcome here!,' was what officially did her in.

The phrases were so unlike you, deep down she even knew it was a horrid dream, but she just couldn't bring herself out of it, nor could she stop herself from believing every single word. How could she when they were her own thoughts being projected at her by your form? In real time her body was violently shaking, tears dripped down her face as she whimpered vaguely audible pleas, 'No. Please...,' The sight of her so broken was beyond devastating, and guilt began to gnaw at you for ever thinking silence was the best remedy to the situation.

Sadly your soft approach wasn't working, no amount of light shaking or whispered comfort brought her out of it, so in a desperate attempt to awaken her you slapped her across the face. Her reddened cheek only deepened at the sheer force you used, and in a perfect display of karma you were laid out on the floor with how abruptly she sat up; wincing as your shoulder took the brunt of the impact, and groaning as it consequently throbbed. Natasha's bleary eyes downcast to your pained form on the floor, and without much thought she jumped on you, only furthering your pain, but this time you did your best to mask it in favor of comforting her.

No words were said while you laid on the hardwood floor, holding tightly to Natasha's sobbing form all while whispering reassurances to the clearly distressed Avenger., "It's okay...," "You're going to be alright honey, I got you...," "It wasn't real, this is real, can you feel that? Whatever you saw it was a lie, your brain was tricking you, please, come back to me love.," With each soft phrase her body began to relax, her sobs faded into sniffles, and she somehow nuzzled even further into your chest for the much needed comfort.

Once you felt she was calm enough you decided now was a great time as any to cut the silence., "I'm so sorry for leaving honey, it's no excuse but something broke in me when I saw you and Bucky so close together. It was like all those years where I silently pined after you, where you had always kept me at an arms length, but now that I finally had you the idea that you were bored already really twisted me up.," While you sighed you felt her body tense., "Your messages told me quickly that I had read too far into things, but it didn't change how it made me feel, just made me regret my actions. It was too late to come back though, I'd been in Italy, stuck in their medbay...,"

Natasha cut off your speech with how quickly she lifted her head to peer down at you, lip trembling when she saw the fading scratches on your face, and her hands began to roam before you quickly cut their search off with a gentle grabbing of her wrists., "Angel, I'm okay now, please just let me finish up my thoughts.," Natasha melted into you again as you kissed her wrists, her willingness to fight at an all time low., "I really didn't know how to respond, and texting just felt so cheap, and a call impersonal. Now though, I realize even a simple text of 'Talk soon love.,' would have brought you some peace of mind, and I'm sorry I deprived you of that. I know that you're sorry too, I forgive you Natty, and I hope that you can forgive me too."

A loud sob broke from her chest at your words, your readiness to forgive her was both a relief and a stab to the gut as she felt undeserving. Her eyes shone with the various emotions as she pulled back to gaze into your honest pair. Her gaze fell to your lips for a millisecond, and you caught the longing in her eyes, so without anymore words you raised your hands up to cup her cheeks, wiping away her tears as you warmly smiled up at her before settling them behind her neck, and pulling her in for the kiss you'd both desperately needed all week long.

Natasha whimpers at the feel of your soft lips on hers, eagerly parting them as soon as your tongue had swiped across her lower lip, and she moaned once your tongue slid across hers. Her hands reflexively curled around and pulled at the hem of your shirt, causing you to pull back with a breathless chuckle as she moves to chase your lips,. "Baby, either you want my lips or you want my shirt off, now make a choice.," she narrows her eyes at you and softly huffs, but she leans back to allow you room to sit up. 

Her hands return to the bottom of your shirt as soon as you're upright, then everything stops when she pulls it over your head and though you tried to hide it, it was of no use as she hears the shallow breath you take in, her eyes fall from your face to your stitched shoulder. Fresh hot tears immediately return to her eyes, and you see as the guilt washes right over her., "Natty, I'm fine, it's just an itty bitty scratch.," Her shaky fingers traced over the surface of the clear bandage, and her lip began to tremble.

"It's my fault...," her croaky voice gave way to just how little she'd actually used it, and just how much she'd been crying, your heart was back to aching as you gripped her chin to bring her eyes back to yours as you spoke., "No!" Natasha went to rebut but the stern look in your eyes told her it was pointless, and you were grateful to her easy submission.

"It's not your fault Tasha.," you reassured her as you moved to kiss her cheek., "I'm okay.," her tears falling into the bow of your lip, and you continue to whisper the words, oscillating between her cheeks until she ceases to cry., "This was a miscalculation, and it was mine.," you conclude, then with your hold on her back you pull her back in to pick the mood back up, and to cut her many contradicting thoughts off.

Natasha squeals as you suddenly use your arm to then hoist her over your good shoulder, she dangles freely as you get to your feet. Emerald eyes full of wonder are glued to your backside, and her hands almost move of their own accord as they joyously squeeze at your covered asset, "Hey!," your nervous hearts settles when she only giggles at your weak warning shake, and just simply continues to knead at your ass.

The atmosphere in the room shifts when you toss her onto your bed, her eyes shamelessly trail down your exposed torso, and they only widen when she notices the bonus appendage poking out against the fabric of your pants. Once her eyes finally trail back up they find your blown out ones staring back, but your expression is starkly different, almost stern., "Let's discuss the real problem shall we?"

She quirks her brow at you, but regardless of the overall confusion she nods desperately, hopeful that if she was compliant that you'd give it to her., "Well, my sweet girl needed my cock, I was too clueless to see it was all just a cry for my attention...," Natasha had to fight the scowl that tried to consume her face, even if you were telling the unfiltered truth, all this teasing about it still promptly annoyed her., "Funny too, because all you had to do was ask. I'd wanted to fuck you the moment you got back, but then you were ushering me off to Stark's fiftieth gala of the year with silly plans of your own, because sometimes my sweet girl only thinks with her needy pussy huh?"

As if on cue Natasha's thighs are rubbing in search of friction, your hands were quick to throw them back open, as you settled your leg in between to prevent further disobedience., "I'm not into the whole jealousy thing, I don't need it to handle you properly...," you mused, and Natasha gulps when your hands shove her down by her shoulders so that she's flat and beneath you as you are now hovering over her.

"Tell me though baby, who do you belong to? Seems you might've needed the refresher." Your name dies in her throat when you sink your teeth into her neck, you lick over the mark to soothe the irritated skin then lowly chuckle, "I'm sorry love, I didn't quite catch that, wanna repeat it for me?," Natasha glares up at your now smirking face, but your quirked brow in warning has her smoothing out her features just as fast., "I'm all yours daddy... Mind, body, heart, soul... Every piece of me belongs to you."

Your heart wholeheartedly warms at her honest words, but you keep your face teasing as the title she used fuels your lust ridden mind., "Daddy's girl can be so smart sometimes..." you tease, rolling the covered bulge against her for emphasis on your intentions, and it proves to work well when her hands fist at the sheets., "Tell daddy what you want baby, seems you're finally learning how to properly communicate."

Everything about the moment is overwhelming for the redhead; the way you're speaking to her has her mind and panties a wholly mess, all of your subtle touches prove to be too much, but in the same turn they're somehow not enough, and it's left her to squirm about as she tries her hardest to formulate words since you are willfully ignoring her bodies obvious answer., "I-I.," she swallows thickly when looking into your blackened eyes, all the color muffled by the lust coursing through you., "I need you to be inside me, please, just fuck me daddy..."

Natasha whines as you teasingly chuckle, her eyes tracking your every move, you lean into her, lips ghosting over hers while maintaining steady eye contact with the absolute beauty., “Suck daddy off baby, get my cock ready for your pretty pussy, then I’ll let you ride me.,” Natasha wastes absolutely no time, she surges forward to attach her lips to yours, and her hands wrap around you to flip your positions. Gentle as can be too, she makes sure that when your body slams into the mattress that your shoulder isn’t affected, and as she pulls you both into a sitting position she manages to prop an abundance of pillows behind you so that you’re not straining your muscles.

The care she shows you even in the heat of the moment has your heart swelling two sizes, but when watching her slip onto the floor with your sweats so smoothly you’re back in the moment. Natasha smirks up at you with her bottom lip caught between her teeth while her hand toys around with your strap, playing up the act of jerking you off, and you groan as she pushes down, causing the harness to rub you just right. Natasha’s eyes remain locked on yours as she runs her tongue over the tip teasingly, and you give her the silly moment, enjoying the little play for power, but you both know it’s all yours.

“Such a silly girl, you do know it’s only you who suffers right? Tease me all you want baby, but that just means it’ll be ages until I fuck you.,” You laugh out mockingly, settling even further into your pillows while watching her eyes widen with the realization, and you wink when she gives in, wrapping her lips around the tip and begins to bob up and down the faux shaft., “Such a good fucking girl, you look so hot when you’re on your knees for me.,” her loud gags every time that you jut your hips upwards aides you on your journey towards your release.

Natasha mewls when you take over for her, a hand tightly gripping her by her hair, and you relentlessly slam her head down while your hips ruthlessly fuck the strap down her throat. The sight of her at your complete mercy has you reaching your peak with a loud groan after only a few more harsh thrusts. Your hand slips from her matted hair, and Natasha slowly pulls herself off the dildo with a loud pop, a trail of spit keeping her connected to you until she’s leaning back all the way, her ass settling on her heels while she works on catching her breath.

She watches you through hooded eyes as you do much in the same, recovering from your glorious high, and just the sight of you in a blissed out state had her squirming excitedly for her promised reward. She can feel just how affected she is by your domineering actions, her slick actively dripping down her thighs and onto your carpet showing her as much.

You can feel her staring up at you, and you have to fight off a knowing smirk so as to not give yourself away. The goal is to have her so incredibly needy that she can’t take it anymore, and you don’t even have to wait long before her hands settle on your thighs with a harsh grip, a wordless whimper leaving her lips. “Mm…,” you hum to let her know you hear her, then you open your eyes to find a masterpiece; those doe eyes full of silent need, her disheveled red hair, and those plump, bruised lips that shine.

The both of you are having a curious stare off, Natasha was being so incredibly good as she humored you with feigned patience, but with one curl of your pointer finger she’s on you., “Sweet girl, go ahead, a promise is a promise.,” Natasha smiles at your granted permission, you return the gesture as you share a moment of gentleness, your lips sealing the pure feeling, and catching the hot moan of your lover as she slides down your cock with embarrassing ease.

Natasha bounces rhythmically atop of you with her hands on your shoulders, her head thrown back with her mouth agape in a state of bliss. With your right hand on her lower back you keep her steadied while she shamelessly uses you to work herself up, moving like a madman who’d been deprived of all forms of touch, and you feel that delicious pit in your stomach steadily tightening at the idea of being used by such a powerful woman such as herself.

Natasha arches into you even further when your tongue flicks over her nipple, while a set of fingers pinches at the other, her breathing becomes more erratic the longer you play with her breasts, and she rips your lips away to slam against her own when she just can’t take it anymore., “Daddy, I-I need to cum, please.,” Your hands move to her hips., “Let go then.,” you murmur before your tongue moves to explore her mouth, you then roughly lift her up, and slam her back down while also jutting upwards, your strap goes into her so deeply that you can actually feel when the soft skin of her hips beneath your thumbs tightens as her belly forcefully bulges out.

It intrigues you immensely, your entire body in relative awe when you pull away from the lips of your lover to catch sight of the bulge. Natasha’s entire body spasms when you don’t stop, unrelenting in your need to continue to see this phenomenon, and so for the final time you’d offer a resistance by pushing down on it. Resulting in an intense jolt of her body as she screamed into your neck, her rather sudden orgasm came flooding out, and in a show of absolute synchronization yours does too, but this wasn’t supposed to be about you anymore. You held onto her hips tightly, just taking a moment to revel at the sight of the deliriously beautiful, panting mess that perfectly resided in your stronghold.

Rolling off the pillows you push her into the mattress, continuing to slowly rock your hips, allowing her the chance to prolong the orgasm and for it to come to an end at a leisurely pace. You watch closely as her expressive face tells you exactly when to cease your movements., “Oh baby, you look so tired…,” you coo, and she whines when you move to pull out of her, but the fight is superficial as your words reign true.

“I’ll tell you what my sweet girl… I’m going to go get us a snack, and grab your half finished gallon of water, I’m so proud of you honey.,” Natasha smiles victoriously as you praise her before sweetly pecking her on the lips, then she cries when your warmth is gone from over., “Ah-ah, Don’t whine now baby…,” you warned, her face instinctually neutralizes, and you smile as you feel somewhat accomplished.

“After we take care of ourselves, and you show me my very best girl I’ll let you cock warm daddy so we can take our well deserved nap. When I eventually wake up, I’ll then reawaken you by relentlessly fucking you into the next morning, sound fair?” Natasha frantically nods, and so you rush off to work your magic.

Returning in record speed with a plate full of garlic hummus and various means of foods to use for dipping, you feed the tired woman until she’s pushing your hand away much like a baby, and you chuckle at the show of delirium., “All done? Use your big girl words.,” you tease, and though beyond tired she’d still managed to narrow her eyes at you, and you playfully stick your tongue out at her before settling your lips to hers in a play for distraction.

Natasha happily sighs against your chest when you reenter her with minimal effort, and you sigh once your body is perfectly molded to her., “Detka…,” you tiredly hum in a nod for her to go on., “I’m so sorry, and please let me say it. You didn’t deserve—.,” your finger settles over her lips, and she groans at the silencing., “Natty, apologize to me later if you must, I’m too spent to properly address you, and that isn’t really fair to either of us. Come morning time I promise I’ll accept it all the same, so sh.”

Natasha settled into the mattress, slinging a blanket over your conjoined, naked body, and her arms wrapped around you protectively., “Sweet dreams detka, I love you.,” you tiredly smiled and kissed her bare chest., “I love you most my sweet girl, rest up, because I promise my dreams will be anything but sweet.”

Truth be told there was still a lot to hash out, but that seems like a tomorrow problem for the more level headed versions of the both of you. You’re more than content in the lusty bubble, and don’t wish to ruin the highs with hurt feelings, and Natasha’s submission tells you she’s on the same page as you.

Of all the ways this could’ve played out you’re just happy it was your fantasy third option, and that most of the tears were pleasurable…

—————————————————————

6,457 Words

(I can’t imagine I missed any warnings but do always tell me if I did, so I can be able to better protect you in the long run-even in an anon message if you’re not comfortable with a comment 💋)

😳 — 💋

[april]

aaargh the way davies era doctor who treats the companions is soooo good they've got their own lives outside the doctor they've got their own families who are actually fleshed out and are characters in their own right. moffat didn't fucking GET IT it's not about just one alien dude it's about people it's about their lives it's about the mess the doctor causes and how it disrupts the lives of people who don't want their lives disrupted.

i did watch all of amy & rory's episodes as they came out (i even remember the absolutely stupid way they died) but the way they don't really have lives outside of the doctor (until it's time for that to cause narrative friction LOL) makes them feel so much less real. i know part of the plot is that amy's parents got erased but she didn't grow up alone in that house and i couldn't tell you a single thing about [looking up who the fuck raised her on tardis.wiki] "aunt sharon"

and it's hard not to see the contrast to jackie tyler, widowed mum who drinks hot tea in her kinda shitty flat, who flirts with younger(-looking) men, who only had nice things to say about her daughter's father despite them actually having a turbulent relationship, who is rightfully livid at the doctor for stealing her daughter away, who is obviously so lonely and vents her frustrations realistically and who shouts at people when she's upset with them. she feels like a real person, and the way rose loves her, worries about her, phones her, comes home to her, argues with her... it adds so much to both of their characters and the doctor is part of their lives but he's not the focal point of everything. rose is the main character a lot of the time and she gets to have an actual web of relationships like one.

meanwhile amy & rory didn't even go home to consummate their marriage, they fucked in the tardis and that's a real plot point and okay yeah it's kinda funny. it is objectively funny that conceiving a child in the tardis makes that child part time lord. but it's not supposed to be funny, or at least i didn't read it that way, because then the next whole fucking season (or was it two?) is dedicated to all the cosmic consequences that come with the existence of that child and then reveals oh we already met this character but grown-up. we've known them for a really long time actually but we've kept all the backstory secret to keep you guessing. isn't that clever? it's a time travel show so you get to see things out of order! it's a mystery with no clues so we can definitely 100% wow you with the answer when we pull it out of our asses! annoying.

sorry what huh "media analysis"? no i'm just bitching don't worry about it. you scroll past now 👋 byebye

[babytarttdoodoo]

The team somehow find out about what Jamie’s dad did in Amsterdam and are horrified/furious.

I’m skipping ahead to write this one because it won’t leave my brain alone. I apologise to all readers for the pain this is about to inflict.

If it makes you feel better, I am not okay after writing it.

It will also be in multiple parts since I really feel like the Reveal and the Reaction are things that need separate room to breathe.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (pending)

(Prompt Fill Masterpost)

—

It came down to the timing, really.

Every locker room Jamie had ever been in had worked its way around to this topic sooner or later. Especially in the Academy, where the typical teenaged obsession with ‘who had done it’ reigned supreme.

Jamie had never had a problem with it. He’d shrugged or laughed or lied and no one ever called him out. He was Jamie Fucking Tartt, after all.

He’d never had to breathe a word about Amsterdam.

Telling Roy had been a spur of the moment decision, and one that hadn’t really bothered him at the time. It hadn’t fundamentally altered their friendship or made Roy tiptoe around him (thank fuck).

But his reaction - Jesus. Must have been traumatising. - had played on Jamie’s mind. So much so that when his talks with Dr Sharon had broached the subject of ‘intimacy’, he thought it was probably worth bringing up.

Yeah. That conversation had gone a bit differently.

And now, here Jamie was, two days into processing his freshly unpacked trauma and his teammates were cheerfully regaling each other with stories about losing their virginity.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

“It was my last night before flying out here.” Sam was telling the group, a sweet, bashful smile on his face.

“Didn’t know you’d had a girlfriend back home.” Isaac chimed in.

“We had already decided to break up, instead of doing the whole long-distance thing,” Sam explained. “It was a nice way to say goodbye, though.”

There was a general sound of agreement and Richard took the opportunity to launch into a questionable story about charming a runway model at the ripe age of 17.

Jamie just continued getting changed in silence, letting the voices wash over him and trying not to let the sudden nausea show on his face. Removing his jersey felt like a Herculean task when all he wanted to do was get the fuck out of here.

Sam’s experience sounded like something out of one of Ted’s rom-coms. That was good. That’s what someone as nice as Sam deserved.

What had Jamie deserved, then?

He quickly cut off that line of thought. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to think about it. Not here. Not now.

It was like trying to cover up an open wound when everyone else had a morbid impulse to poke at it.

A ripple of laughter pulled him back to the room and set his teeth on edge. He pulled a fresh shirt over his head and tried to breathe through the swelling, pulsating anger and shame that threatened to surface.

It was utter bullshit. He hadn’t thought about what had happened with anything more than vague disgust and detachment for years. A whole decade, even. Fuck Dr Sharon and Roy and all these giggling idiots for changing that.

“Oi, you’ve gone quiet, Jamie.”

A few curious eyes turned in his direction and the only thing that stopped him from shrinking away was years of playing at being untouchable.

Instead, Jamie scoffed and plastered on a smile, hiding his fists in his clothes and digging his nails as deep into his palms as they would go. “Eh, a gentleman never tells, mate.”

But he had hesitated a second too long and he saw the potential for mischief light up in a few faces. They knew him too well, he realised, the knowledge churning in his gut.

He wasn’t Jamie Fucking Tartt here. He was just Jamie.

“You are not a gentleman.” Richard stated bluntly, eyebrows raised and a grin playing at the corners of his mouth.

“That is true.” Jan agreed, because of course he fucking did. “You have bragged many times about being with women.”

“What happened, amigo?” It wasn’t fucking fair that Dani sounded so genuinely interested.

“Maybe she didn’t like his pink pants.” Isaac threw in and it drew another round of laughter. The noise echoed in Jamie’s head.

He knew, he knew they were just teasing because they didn’t know better. They were being dickheads because they were always kind of dickheads to each other. It was banter. On any other day it would be fine.

His neon underwear had nearly caused a riot the week before and it had been hilarious.

Why couldn’t he just act like it was funny now?

“It’s none of your fucking business.” he finally managed, not quite keeping the harsh edge out of his tone. He turned away and pretended to be looking for something in his bag so he wouldn’t have to meet anyone’s eyes.

“C’mon, mate, can’t be more embarrassing than mine.” Colin added easily, utterly comfortable with the conversation, in spite of all the implications it had for him specifically. Jamie really fucking admired that.

He was ridiculously, fiercely envious of it.

“Guys, he doesn’t have to talk about it if he doesn’t want to.” Sam admonished lightly. He was offering him a liferaft and it rankled at Jamie in all the wrong ways.

He didn’t need fucking saving. He wasn’t some soft, delicate little thing that needed Sam Obisanya of all people rushing to his rescue.

Suddenly, he was speaking without having made any conscious decision to do so.

“14.” Jamie’s voice was too loud, too sharp in this safe space that on any other day felt like home. But his fingers were clenching and unclenching, and his shoulders were coiled tight, and there was a rushing in his ears.

The vitriol pooled like acid on his tongue and Jamie couldn’t help but spew it out before it began to eat him away.

“I were 14.” He smirked and it felt wrong. It felt cruel and bitter. He rounded on Colin and relished in the flicker of unease that crossed his face. “No fucking idea how old she were but I can tell you how much my dad paid for her to fuck me straight.”

The silence should have been oppressive, he thought distantly. The way the air stilled should have made it hard to breathe. The colour leaching from not just Colin’s face, but Jan’s and Richard’s on either side, should have been concerning.

It just felt freeing, in a twisted, emptying sort of way.

“Jamie-”

“No! No, it’s alright!” Jamie turned wild eyes and a manic grin on Sam, finding it abstractly funny that the younger player took a step back. “You wanted details, right?”

He shrugged, looking around at the slack faces of his teammates. He’d moved forward, he realised, making himself the centre of attention. Typical.

“Tell you what, yeah? Next time we’re in Amsterdam, I’ll take you all on a little tour. Don’t remember her name but I’m pretty sure I could find the place again, no problem.”

And he probably could. He remembered his dad talking to some bloke smoking in a doorway while Jamie stood in the rain, confused. He remembered loud people and neon lights all around. He remembered how the place had smelled when he’d been pulled inside…

Someone else was saying his name now. He didn’t care. He just got louder.

“You wanted a show, didn’t you Thierry? We could put on a repeat performance. Play-by-play reenactment, ‘cept you’ve got to think I can do better now, right? Better with age and all that.”

Arms closed around him from behind and whatever vile shit he was about to spray out into the atmosphere died in his throat. Jamie’s entire body bucked, trying to break away.

“Fuck off!”

It didn’t sound like his voice, a screeching snarl that cracked partway through.

“Jamie.” Roy’s voice in his ear. Roy’s arms around his chest. “Jamie. Stop. Don’t make it worse.”

And what response was there to that except to laugh? Fucking hilarious, that one. Too little too fucking late.

Jamie only registered that he was being half pulled, half carried out of the locker room when the laughter started to hitch in his chest. When the air wasn’t coming like it was supposed to. When Roy manhandled him into an office chair and the tears started in earnest.

All the fight went out of him like a marionette with its strings cut and he just cried.

(TBC)

[soft-and-bitter]

Failed Bargaining (Drabble)

Mob Boss!Steve x Introvert!Reader

Steve would go to any length in order to have you, and that worried you. A lot.

Warning(s): swearing

If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging or leaving some feedback, thanks! ❤

Steve made you nervous the very first time you set eyes on him. Because as soon as you did, you knew just how far apart your worlds were. Every fibre of his being exuded unbridled wealth and glamour, but there was more to it too, simmering beneath it all: shades of darkness you didn't think you wanted to delve into.

Apparently Steve shared none of your sentiments.

You stared at the necklace dangling before you, brows knitted. "Um, what's this?" you ask, even though you knew perfectly well what it was. While awaiting the next course, the others present at your surprise birthday dinner had, fortunately, fallen into their own worlds, deep in conversation about anything other than what was going on now between the two of you.

"A birthday present, of course," he responded, his smile never faltering. "Just one of many for my sweet girl."

It was a simple design—nothing ostentatious, thank god, but you were highly skeptical of its cost, not to mention its provenance. You may not have known Steve that long, but observation, coupled with Sharon's anecdotes, taught you that Steve never did anything in half-measures.

"You didn't have to," you tried to protest, but he was already sweeping your hair over one shoulder to gain access to your nape.

Steve chuckled softly, wrapping the delicate necklace around your neck. "But I wanted to, sweetheart. And that's what matters."

The pet names worried you just as much as the gift. Everything was moving way too fast, this . . . thing, whatever it was, between the two of you. Steve had materialized into your life out of the blue, and now suddenly it felt like he was everywhere, in every corner you inhabited, like he'd always been there. Never mind that you still had no idea what he did for a living.

His birthday gift, cold and heavy against your skin, only drove the message home. If you thought you were doing things casually, Steve wasn't having it.

Fuck.

Steve played with the gold chain of your necklace before dropping a kiss tenderly on your shoulder. "It's beautiful on you," he remarked, fingers ghosting along your collarbone. "You're never going to take this off. Promise?"

You blinked at him once, twice. His command took you aback, the gravity in his tone so different from anything you experienced. Steve watched you expectantly, his blue eyes bright.

"Steve, listen," you began, one hand covering his own as you tried to stop his fingers from exploring further. "This is all amazing, it is, but, um . . . don't you think we might be moving a bit too fast here?"

You feared he'd take offence to that, but his smile said otherwise.

"Sweetheart, we're not moving fast enough."

Just something quick and short to get me back in the swing of things. I do consider this part of a bigger story I've been cooking up, so let me know what you think! Do y'all want more?

[atlanticsea]

LMFAO. anyways i'm so sorry to sam for being a victim of a hate crime and this storyline not being given the gravity it deserved, i'm so sorry to shandy for being brought in just to be an edwin 2.0 because it's apparently hilaaaarious when characters of colour become unreasonable and make poop jokes i guess, i'm so sorry to edwin who went from being an african man aware of the ridiculousness of his wealth and of the way he could help african players get recognition in their home countries to a man only interested in making white men richer (and a sidenote sorry to sam richardson who is a fantastic actor and deserved a lead actor nomination for his role in the afterparty), i'm so sorry to simi who was seemingly just brought in to make rebecca briefly jealous, i'm so sorry to sharon who was barely present, i'm so sorry to shannon who fully disappeared with one last little cameo where you couldn't even see her face, i'm so sorry to nate's family and lloyd in particular for not being centered in nate's growth because it was apparently better to bring in a manic pixie dream girl to literally force him to go back to richmond, and i'm so, SO sorry to nate who had so much potential and was played by a fantastic actor but did not get to have some of his biggest moments on screen and was forced to go back to richmond not even as a kitman, but as an assistant to the kitman, with none of his concerns ever being addressed, because he doesn't matter here: he's only present to further ted's good guy reputation. i'm so so sorry to every character of colour in this fucking show that got treated so horrendously and i'm so glad they're free now