#ari x reader x curtis

[buckets-and-trees]

Taking You Home

Characters/Pairings: soft!dark Ari Levinson x Female!Reader, soft!dark Curtis Everett x Female!Reader, Ari x Reader x Curtis Word Count: 6.2k Summary: After waking up in Curtis's booth at Obsidian Stain Studio, you decide to explore more with the two men who've just ruined you.

Content/Warnings: explicit smut, mfm threesome, kissing, oral (female and male receiving), spit roasting, vaginal intercourse, unprotected sex, marking, overstimulation, after care, insatiable sexual appetites, praise kink, innocence kink, corruption kink, manhandling, allusions to voyeurism/exhibitionism

Author Notes: While not strictly a series, this is the second of probably four stories I plan to write for these three...

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You groan as you blink back into consciousness, the light too bright, and the the sound and feel of everything not as familiar as it should be.

And then there’s a warm hand on your cheek, and you lean into it, but that doesn’t seem quite right either.

“Welcome back,” Ari says with a soft chuckle.

You gasp and jolt up, memories flooding back to you now all at once. You're still in the tattoo chair, but it's been adjusted to a more upright position. A large, soft flannel shirt drapes over you, its sleeves hanging past your fingertips. The scent of pine and musk clings to the fabric, oddly comforting in its unfamiliarity.

Ari places a hand on your shoulder, easing you back into the chair. Your eyes scan around the room, taking in your surroundings with remembered clarity. The harsh fluorescent lights that had seemed so bright moments ago now reveal the familiar setting of the tattoo parlor booth. The buzz of machines has been replaced by a gentle hum of activity and soft rock music playing from a distant speaker.

"Easy there," Ari murmurs, his voice low and soothing. "You're alright. Here, have a drink."

He reaches behind him, retrieving a bottle of water and handing it to you.

You reach for the water bottle with shaky hands, your fingers brushing against Ari's as you take it from him. The cool plastic feels grounding against your skin. You unscrew the cap, the faint crackle of the seal breaking seeming unnaturally loud in the quiet booth. The first sip of water is a relief, soothing your parched throat. You hadn't realized how thirsty you were until the cool liquid touched your lips.

As you drink, you become acutely aware of the aches in your body - a dull throb from your freshly tattooed ribs, a deeper, more intimate soreness that makes you shift uncomfortably in the chair. The flannel shirt - Curtis’s, you realize - rustles softly with your movement, the fabric soft against your bare skin.

As if thinking of the man has summoned him back, Curtis returns to the booth, his hands full of cleaning supplies.

Curtis's eyes meet yours, a mix of concern and something darker flickering in their icy depths. "How are you feeling, sugar?" he asks, his voice low and gravelly.

You take another sip of water, buying yourself a moment to gather your thoughts. How do you feel? Sore, certainly. Overwhelmed, definitely. But there's also a strange sense of contentment, a warmth that has nothing to do with the flannel shirt draped over you.

"I'm okay," you manage to say, your voice a bit hoarse. "A little sore."

Curtis nods, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "That's to be expected. You took us both so well."

The memory of what transpired earlier floods back, causing heat to rise in your cheeks. You look down, suddenly unable to meet either man's gaze, and you take another swig of water.

Curtis gets to cleaning his tools and his station. Ari seems to give you a moment, but you can feel his eyes on you, and then he lays his hand on your knee and squeezes gently. You look up and give him a tight smile.

As you take another drink, your eyes roam over Ari's face, taking in the soft concern still etched in his features. His blue eyes, which had been dark with desire earlier, now shine with a gentler light. You notice a faint sheen of sweat on his brow, a few strands of his hair sticking to his forehead. It's a strangely intimate detail that makes your heart flutter.

“Do you have plans after this?” he asks.

“Um…”

“Because we’d like to take you to our place, do this more properly, see where things go.”

Your eyes widen at Ari's suggestion, a mix of excitement and apprehension coursing through you. The idea of going home with them, of continuing this unexpected adventure, is both thrilling and terrifying.

"I..." you start, then pause, unsure how to respond. Part of you wants to say yes immediately, to dive headfirst into whatever this is. But another part, the more cautious side, hesitates.

Curtis looks up from his cleaning, his ice-blue eyes locking onto yours. "No pressure, sugar," he says, his voice surprisingly gentle. "But we'd like to take care of you properly."

Ari nods in agreement. "We got a bit... carried away earlier," he admits, a hint of regret in his tone. "We just want to make sure you're okay, and, honestly, we'd like to explore this further if you're interested."

You bite your lip, considering their offer. You look from Ari to Curtis. His ice blue eyes are intense, but there's a warmth there that wasn't present before. "We don't usually do this, sugar," he says, his voice low.

“And by ‘don’t usually,’” Ari interjects, “he means we’ve never done this.”

Your eyes widen at this revelation, a mixture of surprise and intrigue coursing through you. The knowledge that this is as new for them as it is for you adds an unexpected layer of vulnerability to the situation.

"Never?" you whisper, your voice barely audible.

Curtis shakes his head, a rare hint of uncertainty in his usually confident demeanor. "Never like this," he confirms. "We've had our fun, sure, but…"

"But nothing like what happened here," Ari finishes for him. "Never in the studio, and certainly never shared anyone before.”

“Until you,” Curtis confirms.

The weight of their words settles over you, and you find yourself at a crossroads. The rational part of your brain screams caution, reminding you of the risks, the unknowns. It tells you to politely decline, to go home and process everything that’s happened. But there's another part, a part that's been awakened by these two men, that yearns to explore this connection further.

"Okay," you hear yourself say, surprising even yourself with the decisiveness in your voice. "I'd like that."

But maybe you shouldn’t be surprised. Getting your first tattoo had been significant, a mark of a new chapter in your life where you made more bold choices about your life. Coming back for the second one had been wanting more beautiful ink on your skin, yes, but this time around it had also been to see what you had left unexplored with Ari, only to end up with Curtis, and then to have such strong connections with them both.

If you were trying to let go of rigidity in your life and make more decisions based on being happy, not on the expectations of others, to allow yourself to explore, this certainly hit that mark.

And that’s what you remind yourself of when you’re in the shower in their home just over half an hour later. You’d ridden over with them in Curtis’s old truck - old but beautifully well-kept - taking the middle of the full-length leather bench seat. Ari spoke more than the quieter Curtis, but the conversation had been easy between you three together.

They’d shown you quickly around the modestly-sized bungalow house, then Curtis suggested you shower while they waited for the dinner Ari had already ordered ahead to be delivered on the drive over. You’d agreed, feeling sweaty and sticky from the earlier sex, and also wanting a moment to yourself. The hot water running over your skin felt nice, but after the first few minutes, you found yourself more anxious being alone and eager to be back with them. It seemed strange to be away from the men while you were in their house, and you also wanted to uncover more of what this might be.

You only showered from shoulders down, keeping your face and hair dry, while also being careful around your freshly tattooed ribs. Stepping out of the shower, you quickly towel off, and hang the towel on the rack. When you look to the bathroom counter, your clothes are gone, but have been replaced with a pair of grey sweat pants and a soft looking, forest green t-shirt. They’ll both be big on you, but there’s a drawstring in the waistband of the sweats.

You slip into the borrowed clothes, the soft fabric a comfort against your clean skin. The t-shirt hangs loosely on your frame, the neckline dipping low enough to reveal your collarbone. You roll up the hem of the sweatpants and cinch the drawstring tight around your waist.

Taking a deep breath, you open the bathroom door and pad barefoot down the hallway. The smell of food wafts through the air, making your stomach rumble. You realize you haven't eaten since before your tattoo appointment, and suddenly you're ravenous.

You hear the low murmur of voices as you approach, which die away as you enter the living room. Ari and Curtis were setting out takeout containers on the coffee table. They both look up at you, their eyes roaming appreciatively over your form in their clothes.

"Feel better?" Ari asks, a soft smile playing on his lips.

You nod, returning his smile. "Much better, thank you," you reply, your voice soft. The smell of food draws you closer, your stomach growling audibly.

Ari chuckles. "Sounds like someone's hungry.”

“Come on, sugar,” Curtis reaches for your arm and tugs you closer, “let's get some food in you."

You move to join them, settling on the plush couch between the two men. The coffee table is laden with an array of Chinese takeout containers, the aroma making your mouth water.

Ari hands you a plate and a pair of chopsticks. "Help yourself to whatever you like," he says, his hand lingering on yours for a moment longer than necessary.

As you start to collect an array of the delicious spread on your plate, Curtis reaches for another of the containers, watching you. "So," he says, his voice casual but his eyes intense, "tell us more about yourself. What do you do when you're not getting tattoos and driving tattoo artists wild?"

You laugh and bite your lip a little. Driving them wild? The notion that they’d really been thinking about you makes your heart race.

You play off the latter part of the question, but do begin to share some of the standard stuff.

Plate filled with a good array of food to start off with, you sit back and settle in, acutely aware of their warmth on either side of you. The domesticity of the moment - sharing a meal, dressed in comfortable clothes - contrasts sharply with the intensity of your earlier encounter, creating an intriguing dynamic. That had been surreal, overwhelming. This is tangible, even cozy. Yet, there's still an undercurrent of electricity, a tension humming just beneath the surface.

The three of you eat and talk. Bouncing between the three of you, it’s across the board from where you’re from, where you work, hobbies and interests, friends and family, nothing too deep, but all of the good beginning pieces.

As the conversation flows, you find yourself relaxing more and more. The initial awkwardness fades, replaced by a comfortable camaraderie. You're surprised by how easy it is to talk to them, how naturally the conversation flows.

Curtis, you discover, has a dry wit that catches you off guard, making you laugh unexpectedly. Ari is more openly charming, his stories animated and engaging. You find yourself drawn into their world, fascinated by the glimpses they offer into their lives.

Their dynamic fascinates you. At times they seem like oil and water. You learn that they met working at the tattoo parlor - both of them had ties to Steve, the owner of Obsidian Stain and Sin. They admit they would never have ended up roommates except Curtis had been closing on this house about the time Ari and his wife separated (then divorced), and timing just seemed to make it convenient. From what you see, though, three years of cohabitation has forged a strong, almost fraternal bond between them.

Curtis reaches for your empty plate, his fingers brushing against yours. "All done, sugar?" he asks, his voice low and warm.

You nod, suddenly aware of how close he is. "Thank you, it was delicious."

Ari stretches, his arm coming to rest on the back of the couch behind you. "So, now that we've fed you," he says, a hint of mischief in his eyes, "what would you like to do next?"

As the question hangs in the air, you feel a rush of heat flood your cheeks. The earlier encounter at the tattoo parlor flashes through your mind - intense, frenzied, almost dreamlike in its surreal passion. But now, in the cozy comfort of their home, you find yourself craving something different.

"I…" you start, then pause, gathering your courage. "I'd like to take things slower this time. To really savor it."

Curtis's eyes darken with approval, while Ari's lips curve into a slow, sensual smile.

"Slow can be good," Ari murmurs, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your shoulder through the borrowed t-shirt. "Very good."

Curtis leans in, his breath warm against your ear. "We can do slow, sugar. We can take all night if that's what you want."

A shiver runs down your spine at Curtis's words, his low voice sending tingles across your skin. You turn your head slightly, meeting his intense gaze. The icy blue of his eyes has darkened with desire, and you find yourself drawn in, unable to look away.

Ari's hand slides from your shoulder down your arm, brushing the backs of his fingers along your skin, drawing goosebumps in their wake. "Why don't we start by getting more comfortable?" he suggests, his voice a low purr that makes your breath catch.

You nod, not trusting your voice to remain steady. Curtis stands first, offering you his hand. You take it, allowing him to pull you to your feet. Ari follows, his hand never leaving your body as he rises.

They lead you down the hallway to a spacious bedroom. The king-sized bed dominates the room, its dark sheets inviting and intimidating all at once. Ari gently turns your face towards him, his blue eyes dark with desire. "May I kiss you?" he asks, his voice low and husky.

You nod, your breath catching in your throat as he leans in. His lips meet yours in a kiss that's both tender and passionate, a stark contrast to the frenzied encounters earlier. You melt into it, your hand coming up to rest on his chest.

As Ari kisses you, you feel Curtis shift behind you. His strong hands find your waist, slipping under the hem of the borrowed t-shirt to caress the soft skin of your lower back. His touch is deliberate, exploratory, but mindful of your freshly tattooed ribs, and it sends shivers of pleasure through your body.

Ari breaks the kiss, his forehead resting against yours as you both catch your breath. You feel Curtis's lips brush against the nape of your neck, placing soft, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your shoulder. The dual sensations make you dizzy with desire.

"Is this okay?" Ari murmurs, his hands cupping your face.

You nod, unable to find words as Curtis's hands slide around to your stomach, his fingers splaying wide across your skin, seeming to have no cares for your soft belly, touching in a way that dispells your own typical self-consciousness over your figure.

“Words,” Ari is insistent to prompt.

"Yes," you manage to whisper, your voice breathy and low.

Ari smiles, then leans in to kiss you again, this time with more intensity. His tongue traces the seam of your lips, seeking entrance. You part your lips, granting Ari access as his tongue slides against yours. The kiss deepens, becoming more passionate but still maintaining a languid, exploratory pace. Curtis continues his ministrations on your neck, alternating between soft kisses and gentle nips that make you gasp into Ari's mouth.

Ari's hands slide down your sides, avoiding your freshly tattooed ribs, and come to rest on your hips. His thumbs trace small circles on your hipbones, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure through your body. Curtis's hands, still splayed across your stomach, begin to inch higher, his touch feather-light and teasing, brushing up against the underswell of your breasts.

Ari breaks the kiss again, his eyes dark with desire. "Let's get you out of these clothes," he murmurs, his fingers playing with the hem of your borrowed shirt.

Since they took your bra and panties to the laundry along with your other clothes, you’re acutely aware of how little - only the shirt and sweatpants - stand between you and nakedness. But you nod, lifting your arms, and Ari slowly peels the shirt off. As your top half is laid bare, you feel momentarily exposed, but the way both men look at you - with hunger and appreciation - quells any insecurity.

Then Curtis turns you in his arms and traces a finger under your jaw. “You need to know we will always take care of you, but we also want to thoroughly ruin you.”

A ripple of fear and intrigue surges through you, and you shiver, pressed between them.

"Is that what you want, sugar?" Curtis asks, his voice low and gravelly. "To be thoroughly ruined by us?"

You swallow hard, looking up into his intense blue eyes. "I think I'd like that," you whisper, surprised by your own boldness.

Ari's hands slide around your waist from behind, his chest pressing against your back. "We'll take it slow," he murmurs in your ear, his breath warm against your skin. "But we won’t hold back unless you tell us if something is too much."

You nod, unable to find your voice for a moment. Then, remembering Ari's earlier insistence, you whisper, "Yes. Please."

A slow, predatory smile spreads across Curtis's face. He leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that leaves you breathless. His tongue explores your mouth, dominating and possessive. You moan into the kiss, your hands coming up to clutch at his shirt.

Meanwhile, Ari's hands roam your hips, fingers tracing the waistband of the borrowed sweatpants. He hooks his thumbs under the elastic, slowly sliding them down your legs. You step out of them, now completely naked between the two fully clothed men.

Curtis breaks the kiss, his eyes raking over your exposed form. "Gorgeous," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire.

Ari's hands glide up your sides to cup your breasts. His thumbs brush over your nipples, causing them to harden into tight peaks. You gasp at the sensation, arching into his touch.

"Sensitive," Ari observes, a smile in his voice. He continues his gentle ministrations, rolling your nipples between his fingers and Curtis watches, his eyes dark with lust.

Then Curtis drops to his knees in front of you, his hands running up the backs of your thighs. He looks up at you, his ice-blue eyes dark with lust. "Spread your legs.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you comply, widening your stance. Curtis's hands slide up to cup your ass, kneading the soft flesh appreciatively. His hot breath ghosts over your inner thighs, making you shiver with anticipation.

Ari's lips find the curve of your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses along your pulse point. His fingers continue to work your breasts, alternating between gentle caresses and firmer kneading. The dual sensations of Ari's ministrations and Curtis's teasing touch have you trembling with need.

Curtis leans in and presses a kiss first to your mound. You whimper, wanting those lips lower. He chuckles, but a moment later he satisfies your craving, dipping lower, his tongue darting out to taste you. You gasp at the contact, your hips jerking involuntarily. He chuckles against you again, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure through you.

"Steady, sugar," he murmurs, his hands gripping your hips to hold you in place.

Ari's lips brush against your ear as Curtis's tongue delves deeper, exploring every fold and crevice of your most intimate area. "Look at you," Ari murmurs, his voice low and husky. "So beautiful, so responsive. Wet and eager for us, aren’t you?”

You whimper, unable to form words as Curtis's skilled tongue finds your clit, circling it with exquisite pressure. Your legs tremble, and you're grateful for Ari's strong arms supporting you from behind. “Can you feel how good Curtis is making you feel?"

You can only moan in response, your hips rolling against Curtis's face as his tongue tortures your clit, undeterred, a desperate edge of hunger to it. Ari's hands continue their ministrations on your breasts, pinching and rolling your nipples between his fingers.

"I bet you taste divine," Ari continues, his breath hot against your neck. "Curtis is savoring every drop of you, isn't he? Look at how eagerly he's devouring your sweet pussy."

Blinking open your eyes, you peer down to witness Curtis's ice-blue gaze unwaveringly locked on yours as he diligently presses his lips and tongue against your sensitive flesh in a delightfully intoxicating rhythm.

Ari's voice continues to weave a sensual spell, his words sending shivers down your spine. "Watch him explore every fold, every crease. Can you feel how he's drinking you in?"

Curtis's eyes remain locked on yours as his tongue delves deeper, alternating between broad strokes and focused flicks against your clit. A sudden involuntary shift of your hips is met by his strong hands gripping your waist, maintaining control.

"I bet you taste like honey and sin," Ari purrs, his lips brushing against your ear. "Sweet and intoxicating. Curtis can't get enough of you, can he? Look at how he's losing himself in your pussy."

A soft moan escapes you as the dual sensations of Ari's provocative words and Curtis's expert exploration create an all-consuming sensory experience. The gentle scrape of Curtis's stubble against the tender skin of your inner thighs leaves a pleasant tingling sensation in its wake while he sucks on your clit, holding you firmly in place.

“We started to talk about you, about all the things we wanted to try,” Ari continues. “And anytime you came up, it escalated, until we started scheming over what we could do to you together,” Ari's voice drops even lower, his words a sensual caress against your ear. "We imagined tasting every inch of your skin, exploring every curve and valley of your body. Curtis would fantasize about burying his face between your thighs, just like he's doing now. Can you feel how hungry he is for you?"

Your breath hitches as Curtis's tongue flicks rapidly against your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. Ari's hands continue their assault on your breasts, pinching and rolling your nipples until they're almost painfully sensitive.

"I'd picture how your eyes would flutter shut in ecstasy, how your lips would part in a silent scream of pleasure," Ari continues, his voice thick with desire. "But silent screams won’t be good enough for what we’re going to do."

Your breath catches in your throat as Curtis's tongue flickers with increasing speed and precision over your clit, sending electrifying waves of pleasure coursing through your core. Ari's hands persist in their exploration of your breasts, teasing and tormenting your nipples with an urgency that leaves them tingling and hypersensitive.

“You have no idea the things we’ve talked about,” Ari presses on. The pressure in your core builds, aching for release as Ari's seductive words fuel your desire. "Dirty things. Depraved things. Things you’ll only ever experience with us. We want to make you lose control, push you past your limits, see how much pleasure you can truly handle."

You moan louder now, unable to keep quiet any longer as the two men continue their assault on your senses. Their combined efforts push you closer and closer to the edge until finally, with a shudder and a cry of pure ecstasy, you reach orgasm.

Curtis eagerly laps up the remnants of your pleasure, a satisfied moan escaping him. Though you are momentarily lost in the haze of bliss, Ari brings you back to the present with a sudden slap to your breast. You gasp and flinch in his embrace, but before you can react further, he scoops you up and tosses you onto the bed. Following closely behind, he hoists you upwards by your hips until you find yourself on all fours, vulnerable and eager for the next stage of this illicit exploration.

You feel Ari shifting to remove his shirt behind you, hear him toss it to the floor, all the while your body still tingling from the sensations that just overwhelmed it. You look around for Curtis, pleased to find him coming around to the other side of the bed. You watch, mesmerized as Curtis shrugs out of his shirt and laying it aside, revealing a toned chest covered in coarse hair and intricate patterns of ink. His stomach muscles ripple under your gaze as he steps closer.

Curtis approaches you, his eyes dark with desire. He reaches out, caressing your cheek before gripping gently at the nape of your neck. "Open," he commands softly.

You comply without hesitation, parting your lips as Curtis guides your head towards his crotch. With his free hand, he unbuttons his jeans and pulls down the zipper. You watch, breath quickening, as he frees his hardened length from the confines of his underwear.

Ari leans down and presses himself against your back. You feel the heat of his body and inhale the scent of his cologne. His large hands knead your hips, stoking the needy ache in your core back up. “You're so fucking beautiful," he says, his voice dripping with desire. “You ready for both of us?”

Curtis guides the tip of his cock to your lips. "Take me in, sugar," he says, his voice low and gravelly. "Show me what that pretty mouth can do."

You part your lips wider, welcoming Curtis's thick length into your mouth. As you take him in, you feel Ari's hands spreading your legs further apart. The anticipation of what's to come makes you tremble with desire.

Curtis groans as you swirl your tongue around the head of his cock. "That's it," he murmurs, his fingers tangling in your hair. "Take me deeper."

You comply, relaxing your throat to take more of him in. The taste of him, musky and masculine, fills your senses. Behind you, you feel Ari's hands caressing your ass, kneading the flesh appreciatively.

"Look at you," Ari says, his voice thick with lust. "So eager for us. Your pussy is dripping, begging to be filled."

You moan around Curtis's cock at Ari's words, the vibrations eliciting a deep groan from him. His fingers tighten in your hair, guiding your movements as you bob your head up and down his length.

Behind you, you feel the blunt head of Ari's cock pressing against your entrance. He teases you, sliding it up and down your slick folds, coating himself in your arousal. "You want this?" he asks, his voice husky with desire.

Unable to speak with Curtis in your mouth, you push your hips back, silently begging for Ari to fill you. He chuckles, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "So impatient," he murmurs, then slowly, torturously, he begins to push inside you.

You gasp around Curtis's cock as Ari stretches you, filling you inch by inch. Ari's thick length stretches you deliciously as he pushes deeper, his grip on your hips tightening. "God, you're tight," he groans, his voice strained with pleasure. "So wet and hot for us."

Curtis's hand in your hair tightens, guiding you to take him deeper into your mouth. You relax your throat, allowing him to slide further in until you feel the coarse hair at the base of his cock tickling your nose. He holds you there for a moment, your nose pressed against his pelvis, before slowly pulling back.

"Go on," Curtis growls, his ice-blue eyes dark with lust. "Take it all."

Ari begins a steady rhythm, his thrusts deep and purposeful. Each time he pushes in, it forces you further onto Curtis's cock, creating a delicious cycle of penetration. The dual sensations of being filled from both ends overwhelm you, pleasure coursing through every nerve in your body.

"That's it, baby," Ari purrs, his voice dripping with lust. "Take us both. You're doing so well, stretching around my cock while you swallow Curtis down." His hands grip your hips tighter, fingers digging into your flesh as he pulls you back onto him with each thrust.

Curtis's grip on your hair tightens, his other hand coming to cup your jaw. "Look at me," he growls. You raise your eyes to meet his intense gaze, ice blue eyes dark with desire. "Good girl," he murmurs, his thumb tracing the apple of your cheek as your eyes well with tears.

The intensity of their ministrations overwhelms you, pleasure and sensation flooding every nerve. Ari's thrusts grow more forceful, each one driving you further onto Curtis's length.

"So fucking tight," Ari groans, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips. "Taking us both so well. You were made for this, weren't you?"

You moan around Curtis's cock, the vibrations eliciting a deep growl from him. His hand tightens in your hair, guiding your movements, holding you far down on him, and he goes for a shallow rut, pulling back only a fraction with each rock of his hips, dominating your mouth.

Your eyes water as he pushes deeper, testing the limits of your throat.

Ari's hands grip your hips tighter, his fingers surely leaving marks on your skin. "You're ours now," he pants, his thrusts becoming erratic. "Gonna fill you up, mark you from the inside out."

Their bodies continue to move in unison, sweat dripping down their flushed skin as they moan and curse.

"Fuck," Curtis hisses, his hips jerking. "I'm close."

His cock twitches in your mouth, and you know he’s close to the edge. His hips buck more wildly, but he keeps his eyes locked on yours, until finally, with a loud cry, he spills his seed down your throat. You stare into each others eyes, and the possessive intimacy of that moment rocks your to your core, as you do your best to swallow every bit of him.

Seemingly as affected as you, the second he withdraws his cock from your mouth, he’s stooping to claim it in a kiss, even while you’re gasping for air. He doesn’t care, desperate to devour you. His release is on your tongue, and that seems to make him feral, but you also taste yours in his mouth, and both of you moan into each other, tongues stroking and tangling. You don’t need to breathe, you need him consuming you like this, his lips as eager against your lips as they were against your cunt.

Ari's thrusts become more frenzied, the sound of skin slapping against skin mixing with your moans.

“Fuuuuck,” Ari’s voice is primal from behind you. “You were right, watching someone else wreck her while inside her is unreal.”

Your brain glitches at his claim - that they talked about you like this, that he’s saying it right now? Your cunt clenches around Ari’s cock, and he groans. You feel him twitch inside you, and you whimper.

“Mmm, you like that, baby,” he says, no question at all. His hand snakes beneath you, and he begins tapping your puffy clit.

You cry out, bucking at the assault, and Curtis pulls away to watch you fall apart even more.

"Come for us, sugar," he growls, still holding your face in his hands. "Let go."

And the combination of his words with Ari’s thrusts and the torment of your oversensitive clit have you shaking and shouting out incoherently.

“Flip her,” Ari instructs Curtis, and Curtis deftly and swiftly grips your shoulders and has you on your back the next second. You grip his arms, needing to hold on to something as your head is spinning in pleasure and with the swift repositioning. As you look up, it’s to the intimidating but glorious sight of these men looming over you. Curtis is still watching your face, and it’s with difficulty that you tear your gaze away from him, but Ari’s grunts and heavy breathing beg for your attention, and you watch, transfixed, as he furiously fists his cock, bringing himself to finish. He cocks his head up in triumph as he groans and shoots his load over your stomach and chest, hot ropes of cum sinfully marking you.

You lay there panting, your body trembling with aftershocks as you try to process the intensity of what just happened. Curtis and Ari hover over you, their eyes roaming your body appreciatively, taking in the sight of you marked and thoroughly debauched, face flushed, chest heaving.

"Incredible," Ari murmurs, his hand tracing patterns through his release on your stomach.

Curtis leans down, capturing your lips in a deep, possessive kiss. When he pulls away, his ice-blue eyes are dark with satisfaction. "You did well, sugar," he praises, his voice low and gravelly.

He cups one of your cheeks in his hand, and you lean into the touch. Then he licks the trail of salty tears from your other cheek, and the gesture deals a bolt of heat through you again, though you feel exhausted and boneless.

“Think I could become addicted to you,” he murmurs quietly, and Ari grunts in agreement.

Ari disappears for a moment before returning with a warm, damp cloth. He gently cleans you up, his touch tender in contrast to the roughness of moments before. The care in his actions makes your heart flutter.

Curtis takes the chance to step away briefly, as well. He’s back once you’re clean, and helps you sit up, supporting your back and handing you a glass of water.

You accept the glass gratefully, your throat parched from exertion. As you sip the cool water, you feel the bed dip on either side of you as Curtis and Ari settle in next to you. Their warm, solid presence is comforting, grounding you after the intense experience.

Curtis keeps a steadying hand on your back as you finish the water, then takes the empty glass from you.

"How are you feeling?" Ari asks softly, his hand resting on your thigh.

You take a moment to assess yourself. Your body feels pleasantly sore, used in the most delicious way. There's a lingering tingle of satisfaction coursing through you, mixed with a sense of vulnerability that's both thrilling and slightly overwhelming.

"I'm... good," you manage to say, your voice a bit hoarse. "Really good, actually."

He chuckles, the sound low and warm. "Glad to hear it."

Curtis takes the now-empty glass from your hands. His eyes rarely seem to leave you, always intense on you. It’s as intimidating as it is captivating. It truly takes someone with Ari’s charisma and assertive manner to compete with the way Curtis’s intense stoicism draws you in. They’re a dangerous force to be reckoned with.

They both lean in to you, beginning to slowly kiss and touch you again, and you hold onto each of them, one hand tangling into Ari’s luscious hair, the other snaking around Curtis’s strong back.

As Curtis and Ari press closer, hands and lips exploring your body with renewed curiosity, you can't help but marvel at their seemingly endless stamina. Their touches are gentle yet purposeful, igniting sparks of pleasure across your skin.

Curtis's lips trail along your neck, his stubble scratching deliciously against your sensitive skin. His hand cups your breast, thumb brushing over your nipple, coaxing it to a hard peak. You gasp at the sensation, your body still hypersensitive from your recent orgasms.

Ari's hand slides up your inner thigh, his fingers dancing teasingly close to your core. His lips find yours in a deep, languid kiss that leaves you breathless. When he pulls away, his blue eyes are dark with renewed desire.

"Think you can go again, beautiful?" Ari murmurs, his voice low and husky.

You swallow hard, your breath catching in your throat. "I... I think so," you whisper, your voice trembling slightly.

Curtis smirks, his ice-blue eyes glinting with approval. “Think we may have you passing out again?”

Ari laughs, and your face flushes as you bite your lip. You let out a shaky breath, both intimidated and thrilled by the prospect of more. "Maybe," you admit softly, "but I'm willing to find out."

Curtis's smirk widens into a predatory grin. "Oh, sugar," he growls, his hand sliding down your stomach, "we're going to have so much fun with you."

Ari's lips find your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses along your pulse point. "We're going to take you apart," he murmurs against your skin, "piece by piece, until you're nothing but a quivering mess of pleasure."

Their words send a shiver down your spine, arousal pooling in your core despite your recent orgasms. You feel almost drunk on their attention, their touches, their promises of more pleasure to come. You surrender yourself to their touch. The night is still young, and you find yourself eager to discover just how much pleasure these two men can wring from your willing body.

read the next part: Worship in the Bedroom

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I got to the end and realized I did not feature their gorgeous tattoed bodies nearly enough, but I GUESS THAT MEANS I'LL JUST HAVE TO WRITE MORE OF THEM ASAP!

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[eccentricallygothic]

|| Wrong Turn ||

Pairing: Mountain Man Silver Fox Nomad!Steve Rogers | You. 

Trope: Neat and clean ‘civilized’ Princess-like young trophy wife X Filthy beast of a wild and scary man who only got her because he has the power. 

Description: In a desperate attempt to save your life from the wrath of the mountain people that your friends and you stumbled upon and accidentally killed on a hike gone wrong, you had to offer yourself up to their Leader to use as a ‘resource’. But little did your ‘husband’ know, you had been actively getting rid of his seed to avoid actually getting pregnant. Naturally, when he does find out, he is very unhappy… And also very determined to make sure you don't make it out of your punishment without a child, or two.

Warning(s): Dubcon, barbaric!Steve, breeding kink (gone wild), unprotected p-in-v, reverse cowgirl, doggy style, missionary, he has a wife bod kink (but it is inclusive), misogyny, smut with perhaps too much plot, fear kink, size kink, exhibitionism, possessiveness, jealousy, age gap, hair pulling, spanking, biting, allusions to painal and Steve being a teasing sicko about it but he doesn't actually penetrate, overstimulation, dirty talk, humiliation, degradation, boob play, squirting, Lloyd makes an appearance with his own young bride, dacryphilia (it's me), self degradation, Stevie is a perverted old meanie, infantilization, mind break.

Disclaimer: Very loosely based off of the movie that I do not own. You don't need to know it to read this piece but do note that it takes place in a fictional setting. Minors do not interact. 

Inspo-ish: This post.

Note: For someone who was on their period, I should not have been this horny. But I need this marriage, now. Ps, though this rotted in my drafts for a long time… in honor of Chris growing out his beard again, ig.

MASTERLIST

. . .

You have no idea how long it has been since that fateful twilight when everything changed in your life, leaving you to a lifestyle you could never have even imagined for yourself.  

“Eat up, woman” but as your barbarian of a husband commands you in his rough and animalistically deep voice, you cannot help but break out of your reverie and shudder at the sight of the barely cooked meat piled high on the platter in front of the two of you. “So you can bear me healthy children” although you're the one who was made to prepare his beastly dinner -that never fails to leave you aghast when it's gorged down- as you're his wife, you cannot help but gag under your breath and feel disgust for the loaves that sit before you in the company of a tall stone carved jug that brims full of the foul smelling mead that your husband is ardently fond of. 

You muster up your best coy smile. Keeping up the appearance of a happily mated pair is important. Or people stare. And then the old man becomes unpleasant. “I had quite a lot while I was cooking, dear” your lies sting your tongue out of the fear you feel of getting caught, but the mere hope of not doing so is better than eating this. “Y- You go ahead” you slowly turn in his muscle hardened lap, that you are always to sit on, to give him a small smile but your expression almost transforms into one of horror because of how wildly your heart jumps at the sight of his stern, predator-like face. You are quick to recover though, as it is a usual occurrence. 

“You need it. You work so hard—” there is just something about his rough looks that never fails to send a chill down your spine. You have never seen anything, let alone an actual human man like him before. 

A beard as thick as the very forest his people populate and as dark as the nights can get here in the absence of lanterns due to the heavy trees, age that streaks some of his gold locks with its silver has not marred the sternness of his jaw that remains firmly set under the heavy mane of his facial hair. His shoulders seem akin to the mountains that surround his village and his piercing dark eyes the mysterious waterfall that flows some way down south from the entrance of the settlement. The frightening mass of his shoulders is so toned that if the barely noticeable wrinkles that sometimes appear under the dark of his eyebrows and next to the crow-feather like lashes that frame his eyes, he can easily be mistaken for a man in his primeful late twenties and no older. His unrelenting strength and wolfish stamina would only further serve to bear testament to the misconception. 

Your strict husband bluntly catches your shaky hand that you extend in his direction to feed him some of the meat, the force that he uses coupled with the coarseness of his skin making you jump. You bite back a yelp and whimper when you look up at his dark blue eyes from where you were watching his bearded mouth to carefully place the food in.

“I don't care” Steve does not care much for being polite -unless it is you who disregards it in your behavior-, especially when it comes to you denying or diverting his ‘care’ for you. “You eat more” you bite back the scowl that threatens to break onto your face from how he turns your hand around in your direction instead. “Wives always need to eat more. They do so much at home for husband and children” he probably feels proud of these ‘values’ that have been transmitted to him by his elders. But all they make you want to do is to crack him across the jaw for being a misogynistic and backward shithead. Especially with you. 

Your ‘husband’ believes that everyone has a role to play; a contribution to make to their people and home. That is how this archaic village of theirs has survived in these mountains hidden away from the rest of the world for so long. 

The greasy piece of a disturbing excuse of a rare steak touches your lips and you've been here long enough to know better than to argue or worse yet, fight. So you smile and lean into his arm that cases your form against his through the embrace he holds you in from behind, his fingers playing with one of the many flowered braids your attending ladies had put in your hair a bit before his arrival at ‘home’. 

“O- Of course” you reluctantly open your open and grip your flowy dressing gown for a semblance of support for your sanity, taking the smallest bite you can -which is still a lot as the man pushes nearly the whole piece into your mouth the moment you open up- as you keep your eyes trained on his to avoid looking down. Your mind always becomes more aware of the taste when you look. “Thank you, dear” you focus on swallowing it without gagging and feel your smile split in places because of how uncomfortable you are.

He probably notices it because he slightly raises one eyebrow and snorts before hugging your smaller form -that is tiny compared to his- closer and puts the rest of the piece in his own mouth. If there is one thing you have learnt in your time with him, it's that you can never fool him. Not really. No matter how well you may think you have lied or pretended, he always sees through it. 

Sometimes you suspect he even enjoys it.

Steve finally begins to eat himself, silently offering you another piece that you politely reject by shaking your head and then quickly pressing an apologetic kiss to his scruffy cheek to lighten the blow. Apparently, a wife can never be polite enough to her husband. And though the change in his expression begins with an unhappy frown, your show of ‘affection’ seems to suffice him and he relaxes in satisfaction, now looking down the long table and at his clansmen and maidens that sit enjoying their dinner, their chatter and laughter a dull roar in the large eating hall of the Leader's dwelling. You pick up the heavy jug of mead with both your hands and obediently hold it to his lips to sip from. Steve looks away from what one of his main men are saying and gulps down a mouthful, rubbing your back as a gesture for thanks before moving his hand quickly down to squeeze your ass to heighten the effect of his expression of gratitude. 

His form shakes in mirth when you yelp and blush. He knows how embarrassing you find being openly ‘affectionate’ in front of people and that is one of the reasons why he enjoys it so much besides showing off that a thing of such beauty and youth like you is all his. You rest the jug between your boobs that he has fucked and squeezed into increasing in size and use your other hand to gently finger and stroke his golden locks that he keeps pushed away from his face outside the bedroom. Though he says nothing, you feel his usually vigilant and always firm stature slowly soften and you cannot help but smile, though what he says next quickly deflates it.

“Do you feel any change in you, wife?” You know what it means and now it's you who becomes tense. He only uses that name for you when he speaks to you as a husband inquiring about your marital matters. “Has my seed attached to your womb yet? Does it grow there?” You gulp and feign shyness, moving closer to his hair and nuzzling yourself in him. “Hm?” He closes his hugging arm around you and reaches for your stomach, fingers groping your covered skin as gently as he can -which isn't much- to feel it. “Answer me” he demands when you refuse to speak. 

“I… I don't know, husband” you always promise yourself that you'll demand more rights for yourself; ask him to treat you like the other husbands treat their wives, only to fail the minute he enters your vicinity. 

“What does that mean?” His tone turns blunt and you whimper at the tightness that snaps back in place between his shoulders. 

You get it.

That was the deal, after all. 

Healthy children in exchange for your life that was required by their judicial laws for bearing false witness to your friend accidentally killing one of their people in mistaken defense. Steve had promised you before accepting you as a citizen that if you failed to fulfill your task you'd walk the darkness in the dungeons. He had shown you how it would be before declaring you a member of their tribe and the sight you had seen was something that had given you nightmares for days. 

But that did not mean you actually wanted to have your old captor's children.

You doubted it would ever be something you'd look forward to.

“I- I mean” regret shoots up your spine in the form of fear and you lose your speech to it momentarily. But then two of your main attending ladies -by that you mean Steve's top agents when it comes to you- enter the horizon of your sight and you hurriedly blubber out the first thing that comes to your mind. “I've n- never been pregnant before, s-o I d- don't know how to…” Your husband turns to look at you, his handsome features twisting into a rogue scowl but before he can scold you, one of the two ladies, Kaira, speaks in their language to Steve. 

Not everyone here can speak English and those who do speak it do so a rather odd version of it. Naturally, you don't speak their language and so they give you the full experience of an outsider when they need to discuss the business they want to keep private from you. The thought makes you want to laugh, like you'd be able to do something with whatever informations they withhold.

But it doesn't really bother you, because you don't care.

You've also learnt that ignorance is bliss here. 

Especially for someone like you.

Better to be the doe eyed trophy wife of an angel who can't tell her head from her ass.

“Is that so?” Your heart jumps when Steve chooses to speak English. That means that this definitely concerns you. You place the mead down and wrap one arm around his broad shoulders before nervously combing his thick beard with your other hand. Since you have no interest in or desire to learn their language, the only word you manage to pick up on when you focus really hard is ‘baby’ and that is solely because of the annoying amount of times it comes up for you. 

“Is not this strange?” He speaks once the women step back after finally ending the nerve wracking conversation that seems to go on forever. “Do you hear what they say about you, little one?” Fuck, you're definitely in trouble. 

He is reminding you of your place. 

You put on your best charming smile but you're painfully aware that your nervousness gives it away. You can feel it. “W- What do they say, dear?” They were such bitches. They knew how to speak English, that's why they were your attendants, but yet they chose not to. And now they were glaring at you like you weren't above them— oh no, not these thoughts again. You will never become like them! No, no! 

Steve pushes his plate away now. Your head spins from the realization. It's only half finished. Your husband never wastes his food. It is a near sin for them to do so. “They tell me the most odd things” oh just fucking tell me! You mentally scream but outwardly tilt your head to the side in confusion, your chest vibrating with the rising beats of your heart. “And now that I think about it myself…” His fingers wrap around the mead before he raises it to his lips. “I see the—”

“What did they say, Steve?” Your mouth works faster than your better sense and he pauses mid sip, dark blue eyes flickering up from the stone jug to look at you. Your face flushes a noticeable hot and your ears get sweaty from the awareness. 

Fuck. 

“They say you've been getting rid of my seed” he feels played and thus angry at the both of you. Perhaps more so towards himself than you; his silly little child-wife. How could he let a thing as tender and small as you fool him so? “... Do you?” It is obvious you are guilty. Besides, he is confident that his people would never lie to him unlike one young and beautiful girl that he had found kneeling in front of him in his court while bawling her eyes out one fateful night, fear stricken as his people surrounded him like a doe trapped. 

And of course, your expressions and reactions don't help your case, as always. “W- What? No…” Your mind becomes erratic.

“No?” He himself knows not what kind of a chance he offers you with that. But typical to your nature, you make it easy for him by refusing it.

“N- No! Of course not! W- Why would I ever do such a thing to m- my husb- hubby and my b- babies?!” Steve has to clench down his scoff. 

“You wouldn't, would you?” Your naivete never fails to amuse him.

“No! I- I don't know why they accuse me so—” you mend your speech from the archaic form that tries to leech to it everyday. “I don't know why they would accuse me of that but they must be mistaken! This is a misunderstanding!” 

He hums. “I see…” His scarred fingers begin to toy with your braids again. “So you remain devoted to me and faithful to our family, don't you?”

“Of course!” You nuzzle closer to him, your heart thundering into his chest. “I don't know why they still treat me like an outsider” you purr as you nervously stroke his hair, playing a card of your own and making an absolute fool of yourself by doing so. “I try my best… like I promised.” 

“Yes, your promise” his distant eyes -they get like that when you disappoint him and you hate the sight because it never fares well for you- travel down to your empty stomach. His gaze makes it wrench. Your fear skyrockets at the same rate as your anger. If only there was a way for you to get back at those bitches without having to give birth!

“I- It takes time sometimes, dear…” You hug his shoulders with one arm. “But it will happen. I know it…” Your other hand reaches for his fingers that rest on your abdomen now. 

“Oh?” Steve raises one dark eyebrow at you. His hair is the most fascinating combination of blonde and dark brown. “Is that what your modern day sciences say?” His people were not always like this, he had told you. They did not originate from here. Rather, some families had abandoned ‘civilization’ when it was going to hell -in his words- by killing each other for meaningless constructs such as caste, creed and color differences and migrated up here to establish a system of their own; one free from such nonsense. 

Apparently.

You take a deep breath. “Stevie—” you only call him that when you find yourself dangerously close to the dungeons.

“If that is what you believe in, wife,” he never cuts you off. Usually, that is. His age that streaks his blonde strands with its silver ones has granted him enough patience. Normally, he waits for the other person -who is most often you- to mess up themselves. But whatever the ladies have told him seems to agitate him into rebelling against his own nature today. “I'll do it your way. After all, happy wife happy life, is that not what you tell me often?” Okay, you might have said that during a particularly cocky moment in bed once. 

But the intention behind that had not been nearly whatever he is moving towards now. 

“Y- You don't have to, l- love…” You nervously giggle. “You're perfect the way you are” you run your nails that he insists you keep trimmed for hygienic -as if- and practical purposes through his silver-blonde hair.

“Oh no…” Now he pushes his food farther away. “I will indulge you, little one” he moves your other leg over his laps so now you face the people down the table with both of your legs on either sides of his, ass to his… fuck. “Time conspires against us, and so we must make haste.”

Your eyes widen and your heart leaps up in your throat. “M- My love?!” 

Steve moves your flowy gown out of his way, keeping a firm hold on one of your thighs even though he doesn't really have to. Your fear of him would never let you attempt an escape. “Yes, my stars” the name is so full of sarcasm it nearly pierces you open. “Let us leave time to its devices, and us ours” your husband is usually a very possessive and private man when it comes to you, but his ire seems to get the better of him today. You hear the buckle of his own clothes come undone. The table goes silent and heads turn in your direction once they realize what's going on. Oh no… Your stomach drops. Not in front of everyone. Not when Steve makes you so vulnerable in that condition. Not in front of these lowlifes!

“Husb—” blood bubbles hot under your cheeks as you feel him align himself against you. 

Holy shit.

You feel one of his coarse hands wrap around your throat and he pulls you closer to his mouth so he can whisper in your ear. “You will contribute, my stubborn little wife,” you whimper from the menace his words hold, your well trained cunt obediently squelching open against his thick hard tip as he lowers you on his cock with the hold he has on your thigh. “Whether you like it, or not” sometimes, deep down, you fear that the dungeons are not an option anymore. 

He keeps you in the horizons of his sight too much for them to be. 

It appears as though the sentence has changed. 

It is now Steve, or Steve.

You cry out from the strain his log-like girth puts on the narrow band of your entrance. God. You will never get used to his size regardless of how many times and ways he tames your pussy in. Yes, it does not refuse him or rip around him now as it used to in the beginning -and it did that for a long time- but the size to which his cock makes it expand is like a mini-birth. Feels like it, looks like it. Only, it feels way too good. And that's why you don't mind it—

No. You don't know what that was or meant. But you don't take responsibility for that thought!

“Oh!” The balmy velvet of your cavern grazes down the bulging veins and hard skin of the brute's cock until your petals squish against his heavy and very eager balls. Your head spins when you feel his tip tickle your cervix. It never takes his dick long to find it.  

His hands are pushing you back up almost instantly so he can slide you back down. You look anywhere but at the tens of faces in front of you, instead choosing to look at the wall on the opposite side of the table. You never thought these people were capable of being this quiet until now when your pussy makes an embarrassingly loud squelching noise as Steve tugs you back to his leaking tip and then allows gravity to suck you back down. You desperately bite your lips and try to focus on ignoring the way your insides are beginning to thrum with the excitement and stimulation; to show these brutes that you're better than them and aren't some animal of nature. But to no avail. His slimy precum mixes too well with yours, the rough skin of his hands digs into your thighs too well and the manner in which your petals rub against his cock when he lifts you yet again -now forming a momentum- before letting you slide in again is too much for you mask with nonchalance. 

Indifference has never been among your strong suits.

“Tell me, my pretty” Steve begins again, his dark eyes now finding the young and hormonal pack of unsuspecting boys who clearly do not know better. “Have you ever had a cock like mine?” He says it in their own language so the foolish miscreants see, understand and learn the fact that you’re only his. You belong to him and he will go to war for you, not that a pack of rug rats will ever be a cause of worry for him. “Has anyone ever fucked you as good as I do?” He switches back to the language you understand, roughly fumbling for your jaw before he grabs it and bounces his hips into yours at the same time. 

Your traitorous legs have begun to do what they always do; fuck yourself against him -if he hasn’t bound you, which he hasn’t- in whatever position he has you. You only realize that your breathing has become heavier when you open your mouth to answer. “Only you, my husband! Only you!” Your brain is running too fast for reason or reflection to catch up so you leave wondering why you answer him with the only words he has been able to teach you in his language to later. Your words are muffled as his fingers that grip the lower half of your face nearly slip in your mouth from the disordered urgency of the both of your actions. 

“That's right” your mouth falls open and you begin to softly pant in that animalistic way that you detest when he makes you watch yourself in a mirror while fucking you sometimes. In your defense, it is always unintentional on your part; you barely even notice it while taking his fucking. And yet, it is inevitable due to the force he does it with. “Look at you; dutifully fucking yourself up and down your husband's cock like a bitch in heat” a twinge forms in your knuckles from how your fingers hold the edges of the table to aid the gliding of your fuck hole that now slams up and down his cock in a rhythm you're all too familiar with, the smacks of your bare ass slapping against his naked abdomen making appalling noises that you're too worked up to dread over right now. “And you're a bitch in heat for me, aren't you?” His fingers move down from your jaw to your throat. “Wanting to be bred over and over again until you're so full of my children that your little belly is round and heavy to the brim, hm?” In these moments, you tell him anything and everything that he wants to hear.

Steve knows it all too well.

And he loves it.

“Yes!” Your voice disappears midway from how he squeezes your windpipe. His hips meet yours midway now, the wetness of your cunt and the force of his thrusts causing for his balls to try and push past the tight boundary of your sexual cavern. “Yes! Yes! I am! Please!” Your eyes roll to the back of your head when his free hand finds your petals to play with. “Ohhh!”

“You want to be bred, don't you?” He rubs your drenched pussy lips while his hard cock pistons in and out of your sopping cunt. “Want to contribute…?” He chokes you once more and this time his fingers pinch one of your pussy lips punishingly at the same time and you cry out. “Provide your husband with a house full of heirs?” The oxygen in your mind depletes and your eyes flutter as a result, cheeks turning red and nerves becoming prominent on your glistening temples. Your horny yet defensive pussy finally relaxes around him a bit so it doesn't hurt his dick and he savours the moment by holding you by the curve between your legs and fucking into your form that gets limp by the moment to push you towards your first orgasm. 

It always gets better after that. 

For him, at least. 

You don't choke him out so much then.

“Y- Yes!” When Steve finally lets go of your throat to let you breathe, you blubber out an an answer obediently once the light returns to your eyes. Your walls stiffen around him once more. But by then he has already worked himself closer to your womb. “Yes! Yes!” It is all your mind can muster.

“Good” he makes a point of taking both of your boobs in his hands and thoroughly massaging them to show off his ownership over you. “Now ask me to breed you” the fence of heat that has formed around your loins becomes tighter when his hands that previously fondled your clothed breasts slip under your gown -for Steve is too possessive to actually expose you to the eyes of others- and he softly rubs your tense sides a couple times before his fingers form pinches around your hard nubs. 

“Please breed me!” Your voice is so loud and strained that its quality is nearly blood curdling. “Please breed me and s- stuff me full your children!” Your hands fly to grip his from over the dress as you throw your head back and slip from the edge of your anticipation, parrotting all the words he has taught you over the course of your marriage. “Oh GOD! Please!” Your back arches from the coming undone of the hot belt of expectation and scorching gratification spills from it, seeping down your legs in the form of a nearly unbearable electric feeling that transforms into a subzero energy when it reaches your toes that curl, causing them to feel as though they are freezing. “I need your b- babies so bad, hubby!” 

Steve's own ears blush from the heat that courses through them in the form of adrenaline as he snorts, some of his blonde strands coming loose from the push and tug that he plays with your cunt. “Tell them” his balls ache from the strength it takes him not to fill you up right then. “Tell everyone that you want me to fill you up with my babies” since your sensitive body tries to curl and move away from the overstimulation, the older man wraps both of his hands around your thighs to keep you going. “Say it!” And he makes you say the words that he desires in the language of your spectators that look embarrassed for the first time since you got here. 

Save for your husband's best men who look equal parts aroused and proud. 

You want to cringe and be disgusted but your sensitive pussy is being pounded too hard for you to attempt a conjuring up of any dignity. 

“Need hubby babies bad!” You cry out again from memory when Steve's thick seed begins to fill you up at last. “Oh, my God!” The feeling of his hot cum filling you up and painting every inch of your sensitive walls penetrates your already hazy mind and the warmth that steams out of the pearly liquid steams its way up to your womb, making you shudder at the feeling. Your opening tightens around him in protest of the overstimulation and it instead causes for a barrage of bitter-sweet electric sparks to explode through your abdomen in the form of a half post-climax orgasm. Your body grows tired.

But your insatiable is far from done.

“Flattering, but no” Steve pushes you against the table before standing up when he is done fucking his orgasm as deep as he can reach into you. “The father of your children will suffice” your eyebrows furrow at his words but the older man does not give you a chance to ponder over them because now he is hooking his hands under your thighs that your rapid and messy fucking has covered in both of your juices. 

“W- What?!” Your vision is hazy and your mind dazed as you incoherently tap about. “What's— oh!” You wince from how much easier it is for him to move inside your worked open and much lubricated but torturously overstimulated walls now. “Oh! Oh…” Your hands blindly feel behind you to try and get him to stop. “Oh, no! No, please!” You cry out weakly, your upper body hanging low in the opposite direction from the exhaustion. 

“No?” The older man darkly chuckles, paying no mind to your flailing. “You think you can say that to me?” One of his hands desert their post on your thighs to roughly grab at your hair. He hasn't forgotten what started all this. “You think you have the same rights as everyone else around here, wife?”

But you're scowling from the burning pain in your walls, mind hazy and unwise. “Stop! Stop!” Your puffy folds ache from how his stiff skin rubs against them as he moves in and out of you at a normal pace… for now. “It hurts, stop!” 

“That is the part and parcel of having children” your body curves outwards as he pulls you further back and closer to himself by your hair. “And is that not why you're here?” His cocky tone along with the hungry and wondering eyes of the wildlings make you angry. “What you were spared for in the first place?” A twinkle in the eye of a man pisses you off and…

“It hurts, you old bastard!” Your young blood gets the better of you and your mouth runs before sense can catch up. “Stop, stop, stop it!” Since your hair holds you closer to him you manage to land a few smacks to his rock hard arms before you try to snake your fingers under his to pry off the hand that he coils around your thigh in a weak attempt to move away. 

Steve only chuckles, clearly unfazed by your fighting as he bounces your smaller form up in the air with each thrust. “Did your mother not teach you anything, wife?” He lets go of your hair only to restrain both your arms on the small of your back. “Good girls never tell their husbands no” your body flops forward again and you've no choice but to face the long table full of people. “They lay down pretty with their legs spread and let their husbands fill them with their children and then they express their gratitude for being granted a family.” Though your mind is confused and rather disoriented from the influx of sensation, you can make out new additions to the crowd of your humiliation from the corners of your vision. 

“Ugh!” You grunt from the rapid jabs he gives to your sore pussy, his firm hold nearly searing into your wrists. “I don't wanna have your stupid blonde babies!” Steve breathlessly lets out a real laugh at that. “Let go!” 

“There” he can swear he will never tired of you breaking the little character of the obedient wife that you so naively think you have mastered only to break it when he has you all riled up like this. “Right there, easy now” his other hand leaves your lap and he pushes your head down and against the table in the most condescending manner imaginable. Steve has got you to expose yourself for the brat you are, no need for play anymore. “Now I make a bunny out of you” his dark eyes now meet with those of the boys sitting at the other end of the table and his use of their language is a silent message. The Leader knows how his wife is desired. And he doesn't appreciate it in the least. The young males all panic and look away, gulping to themselves and praying for their lives. 

You try to struggle again, your lip curling in disdain and protest as you feel him fuck his cum right up your cervix. The bitter pleasure you get from it makes your head spin and your fingers and toes flex defensively. “Ooof!” Your cheek rubs against the table and you puff out your face to express how tense you feel down there. 

“Brat” Steve shakes in silent mirth as he reaches for your ass with the hand that he was holding your face down with. “Don't you move a muscle.” You're too busy rocking over the table and being held down to try. 

“Hubby, please!” You whine when one of his veins twitch deep up your walls and your knees shiver from the sensation. “Please!” Maybe if his cock wasn't so comically huge, it would have been easier to move past the rough friction of your raw, orgasm worn skins. But it is and so you are ready to abandon the dam that begins to form in your abdomen again if it means to avoid this pain. “Owwwiee!”

“Aw” Steve cooes as he now moves to a pace that falters your vision and causes for the great table to shake with each thrust that he gives you. “So small and sore, aren't we?” The spank he lands on your unsuspecting ass right after is the stark opposite of his tone. “Maybe we shouldn't act out so much when we are so weak and pathetic, huh, wife?”

“Oooof!” One of the shyer ladies get up before she carries her young son who stood next to the group of the young ones away and the realization of the fact that your spectators are all real people who see you everyday and will continue to do after this drips down your limbs like ice cold water. Your hips cannot help but clench from the embarrassment that you dully feel in some part of your mind way far at the back. “Hubby, please!” The spanks increase with each snap of his hips and though the turmoil between your legs takes up most of your sensory powers, your cheeks now begin to noticeably sting from the pain that builds from how the swings of his hand against your poor ass increase with each thrust. 

“Please?” Steve muses like he isn't balls deep into you and fucking the literal daylights out of you like a crazed heathen. “Oh, but I thought I was a mean old bastard” of course, your pleas always only mean that you want more, according to the brute you are married to. They cannot mean anything else, apparently. “And you didn't want my stupid blonde babies” you grunt from the frustration and land a helpless fist on the table. You are in an uncomfortable tug of war between the mutilation of your sensory glands and the tall barrage of tight hot anticipation that cannot help but form in the base of your stomach again because of how hard and rough he fucks you. 

Your husband's main man, Lloyd, laughs in a comically daft voice to tease you and be the insufferable asshole that he is. “You've got yourself a feisty little pup there, Steve” he is the only one who can refer to the blonde haired man by his name. Or maybe, he doesn't care to use the honorific and his usefulness backs him up. You wouldn't be surprised if the latter really is the case. “Don't you agree, my sweet?” He side hugs his own young bride who ironically is one of the sweetest and perhaps the only nice person in this entire village and Lloyd grins down at the girl whom you now notice is blushing furiously. 

Before you can let the humiliation swallow you whole, Steve spreads your burning cheeks and chuckles at the sight he finds glistening and blinking up at him, the madenned hammering of his cock unceasing. “Look at this adorable little button of yours, darling” you are not personally familiar with any of the faces that witness you trying to pathetically crawl away when your devil of a husband begins to tickle your pucker so you realize it was actually not quite hitting you as bad as it does now when you become hyperaware of Rainie's gaze. If it weren't for how your eyes roll because of Steve's hot seed shooting deep up your cavern again and nearly searing into your very flesh this time around from the brutality of it all, you reckon you would have tried to hide. But now all you do is let out choked blubbers as your wide eyes sting from tears due to the sensory overload. “I think it's time we deflowered it, what do you think?”  

Oh, no. 

His cock is not something that you can handle in your ass without splitting all over the place!

“No answer? No?” It feels as though you are the one who is cumming and not Steve because of how good he is at wearing the mask of nonchalance. “Hm,” he roughly pulls you backwards by your hair before hooking an arm around your waist to keep you from trying to get away from how he toys with your trembling pucker. “Maybe we should let sweet Rainie decide for you, hm—?”

“OH, GOD!” You cannot help but scream over him. 

He is too much.

Steve ignores your exclamation, thrusts delayed -more jab like- but so strong that his tip spears into your cervix with each thrust, thus causing for your head to spin from how he chooses to fuck out his orgasm. “She's your friend, isn't she?” Steve's beard gently stings the sweaty and teary skin of your jaw from how his mouth presses into your ear. “Aren't you, Rainie dear?” 

Yep, you are never looking her in the eye ever again. 

“Answer him, sunshine” Lloyd eggs his wife on and you notice through your cloudy vision that he is making her palm his own bulge. You nearly cringe back into Steve's chest from the obscenity of it all. 

The girl, a new bride herself, is shy and small next to her own flesh boulder of a husband as she meekly peeks up at you through her lashes. “Y- Yes, sir. We are friends” her voice is barely audible and both your husbands chuckle. 

If it weren't from how a dull orgasm rips itself apart somewhere deep between your loins, you would have felt angry.

It is like the assholes know that you're friends, and they're having their fun with it.

No wonder they are best mates.

“Good, good” you can feel Steve's cum splattering your thighs with each brutal jab, the sound and sprays of his shaft making a mess of your juices underneath your dress ample in its audibility. “So, do you think it's time your girlfriend's dirty little button was opened up, hm?” He keeps one hand on your pucker and reaches for your boob to grope with the other.

Rainie blushes again and furiously lowers her head the moment her eyes connect with yours. Though you don't know it, her own has been deflowered not too long ago and she isn't sure what response would be favourable by you, so that and the embarrassment of the Leader questioning her for something like that about his wife when she is on amiable terms with the girl makes her choose silence for as long as allowed. And her own husband cockily leaning into her and mansplaining into her ear how it would work for you by comparing it with what he did to her pretty ass only makes her curl further. 

“Shy little thing, isn't she, my precious?” So your husband turns his unwelcome attention back to you, bending the both of your bodies forwards so he can smack your asshole with the back of his hand easier, the impact making you rock violently forward. “Maybe you should learn some manners from her, huh?” The howls you let out from getting your pucker pinched and hit is something you would rather not narrate. All you choose to disclose of that ordeal is that sobs echo in the hall, another orgasm rips out of you and you are sure your body releases more liquid than normal for an average orgasm. “Look at how polite and nice she is, hm? While all you want to do is to curse your husband and be an ungrateful little sloth” it sounds as though a newfound annoyance causes him to grit his teeth towards the end and the tip of his fingers finds recourse in seeking for itself a passage past the tight barrier of your unwilling button as a result. 

And so your mouth begins to run in the desperate way he loves. “N- No, no, no hubby! No!” You vehemently shake your head as you feel your knees start to buckle from the exhaustion. “I- I didn't mean it!” The bearded corners of his mouth pull into a deep smirk. He knows its coming, and he loves it. 

“You didn't?” How can he not when he is the one who trained you to it and taught you the words to say during. 

“No! No!” Your voice comes out child-like from your mind's succumbing to its defeat. For the day, at least. “I d- didn't!” 

Steve is a jackhammer in how he fucks his children into you and works towards giving you more. “Oh, I see” now he speaks to you like an elder speaking to a young one, like you are no older than five winters. “Then, will you tell me why you said such naughty words to your husband who does so much for you?” He knows you're small now and so he chooses his words accordingly.

After all, it is Steve's meticulous tailoring of your mind and body which brings you to act out this specific sequence. 

Nothing less, nothing more.

Just this. 

A shrew tamed into a compliant wife equipped with the mind of a babe. 

He may never admit it outright simply because it goes against his very code of life but Steve knows in his heart of hearts that it is this very push and pull you put up in your own passive little way that keeps him alert and your marriage interesting. 

Addictive.

“Is ’cause— hnnng, cause—!” He pulls both of your bodies back up with the intention of turning you to face him but he chooses not to do it just yet. He wants you, those silly boys and everyone else who suspects that his judgement grows soft because of his fancy for your youthful beauty and adorable personality, to hear it. Steve can always pull you right back down if wants. Your reins will always be in a hand's reach to him. Just because he lets you sneak in your foolish ways sometimes doesn't mean you've conquered his nature-gifted better sense.

“Because, what?” Everything in life calls for balance and so each time your misbehavior that you think you hide so well from him begins to rise above a level he deems no longer amusing, he is there to hammer it down. 

Quite literally. 

“Because I am j- just an i- impudent,” Steve grunts and moans, feeling his cock twitch from how you always mispronounce imprudent when you are in this state. He taught you that word and true to your little baby self and mind, you can never get yourself to say it right. “Little wife and I am a d- dumby—”

“Fuck…” Steve feels a drop of cold sweat trickle down his back from your little vocabulary. He feels himself pant from how hard he fucks you, his windpipe alight from the friction caused by the air he heaves in with each desperate inhale.

You are a proper trouble; something he has never had before, and he loves it.

“— D- Dumby sloth who dunno any real worries besides e- eating and b- being spoilt b- by my lovu hubbsy—” your tongue is kinetic jelly between your teeth and Steve has begun to moan from how fucked stupid you sound. “So I get shtoopid and u- ungateful” Steve cannot contain it anymore. In a fevered and desperate confusion of how to express the thunderstorm you cause in his head, he slaps your hair away, causing for some of the flowers to go flying about, and sinks his teeth into your flesh, growling so deep into your skin that you feel the vibrations cause ripples in your blood. Perhaps that is what Steve yearns to taste. “B- But husby always fixes” your head goes limp against his as he sucks your skin like a crazed animal for you lose a track of how long. Your vision and hearing bolts away from your comprehensive faculties like a bullet train and your body gets sucked into the vacuum of your husband's beastly grip. You are just a lifeless doll rocking in whichever direction and manner he pleases.

Next time your brain catches on with your reality, your body has been placed under his with your back against the table. You faintly notice when your dress begins to get wet that splashes of mead cover it due to your brutish husband's depraved madness. 

“Look at me, hey” he pats your incoherent face until your wandering gaze settles on him, teary eyes distant. “This is the face that you will see in those of your children, and children you shall have until this residence cannot contain any more” his promise echoes in your buzzing ears like the bestowing of an ultimate truth upon you by some powerful deity. “This is the face you will look up at as you spread your legs,” his tip is so swollen, raw and hot against your worn skin that you can feel it even in this state. Your features scrunch from the discomfort. “This is the face you will kiss and cherish” his fingers find your throat again and your eyes roll to the back of your head when he puts pressure on your windpipe. “And this is the face that you will look at until you breathe your last” he holds you until you are on the verge of losing consciousness, though letting go only to stifle the gasp you let out to resume your breathing with a hot sealing kiss.

Your muscles twitch and your body spasms in the position he has you in. Laxness washes over your limbs and you begin to violently shake from the dull and yet stinging quakes of sensation that bloom through your whole form. 

For some dark, twisted and depraved reason, you cum from the helplessness of your situation and it is present in Steve's amused and proud smirk that the knowledge is not lost on him. Swiping an arm around you from behind with an air of satisfaction, he collects your limp body closer to his and walks off to your chambers with your drenched sexes still connected, leaving a crowd of embarrassed, curious, satisfied as well as tamed spectators in his wake. 

You surrender yourself to him and close your eyes as your body collapses on top of his. Your mind barely works but you know one thing— fact as clear as day; you are not making it out of this without at least one child on the way. 

And there isn't a single thing you can do about it.

. . .

[shotgunbunny]

𝐆𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐓𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐭 𝐆𝐨𝐝

pinboard¦ playlist¦ dividers¦ wc:14k ¦ paring: Dark!Frat!Alpha!Ari x Alpha!Omega?Reader

warnings: Misogyny, sexism, Rape! Non con! Breeding kink! blood, fighting, violence, forced impregnation, power imbalance, size difference, Ari being very mean, Manipulation, depression, yandere, obsession, Bucky and Curtis being assholes too, forced oral (m), being recorded without consent.

This is a very dark fic so please be aware of that before reading! This is my first commission too! <3 This is the alpha version! :)

Everyone knew Ari. How could they not? With a striking 6’6 figure, well toned with muscles that would make any woman shiver at the sight of the hunky man. All embodied with the face that would seem like it’s from a Greek god with a body to match. Gorgeous chocolate brown hair that was always swept back from his face yet still long enough to frame his angular face. A beard to match, making him look older than he was, an aura of maturity and grace in everything he did, no matter how simple. All matched with the most beautiful brown eyes that would glow like honey in the sunlight or darken like a black void when he laid his eyes on something he desired, which would only ever be you. The feisty Alpha that he was determined to bring to her knees, turn you into what you were meant to be, an omega. That’s what a woman was designed to be, and yet you defied his logic, and he just couldn’t stand it. You made his nose wrinkle in disgust at the fact you didn’t submit; how you carried yourself would make him curl his hand up into a fist. You were simply wrong to him.

It wasn’t just his looks that made him so well known, everything about him drew people in. He was the head Hockey Player, he had never lost a game and he prided himself on that. And in return so did everyone else, their champion who would always win a match. Then afterwards throw a raging party that left everyone filled with regret or empty memories. Especially the omega’s, they would enter these parties and leave defiled by whatever alpha had gotten them. There were rumours that Ari had participated in this but it was never backed up as he would often brag about how he would never accept such a tainted slut that got drunk and spread their legs so easily, he believed in true mates and that he would find his woman and put her in her rightful place. On her knees sucking his cock while the dinner was cooking and the baby was sleeping upstairs safely in the nursery all while living in a beautiful house he bought with a pretty white picket fence. He was traditional to an extreme amount. Despite that though, it didn’t stop him from sexting every girl on campus, only getting nudes to stroke his cock to while he imagined breaking in your tight, disobedient cunt and making you cry from the stretch of his knot breaking your will.

And you despised him, He was nothing but an asshole who needed to be put in his place, All he did was play with girls online coaxing sweet, innocent omegas to open their hearts to him online before he exploited them and left wanting more and forever empty. He had broken your dorm mates heart, a sweet girl called Vera, she was studying art and she fell hard for Ari. He had so many promises to her but they were left in the dust like she was as well as the other omegas. All he wanted was to look at these willing women and picture how willing you would be if he broke your place and he was going to. You were a strong alpha woman, you were proud of that too. You rose above the rest and set an example of how women should be. You were paving the way for independence and respect step by step.

You were studying business and you were doing amazing at it, to the point that you were over achieving. Or well you would be if it wasn’t for the bear of a man that took the class with you. He gave you a run for your money, he would always one up you in class. He was smug in everything he did. Crowding your space, stealing pens so you had nothing to write with, critiquing your notes whenever he could. And the worst part was that the teacher did nothing. He has disregarded it as it being Alpha playfulness when it was Ari’s systematic way to oppress you and it was working. Every little thing he did kept you busy studying while he breezed through lessons without a care.

That’s how life was for you, always battling Ari. From his darkened gaze when he watched you do anything, his eyes would devour your form no matter what you wore and every time you saw him readjust his half hard cock in his pants with a lazy grin tugging at his lips. He wanted to break you, to have you submit from being an Alpha to an Omega. You wanted him to bow like that pathetic sexist mongrel that he was to you. It was a rivalry to you, a battle of will. To Ari it was a contest, a game that he would win without even breaking a sweat.

Of course there was another reason you despised the Adonis that graced the hallways and that was because he was filthy rich. Spoiled to a degree that he had never worked for anything, he expected it all to just fall into his hands if he just flashed a wad of cash. A luxury you had never experienced as you had grown up from roots that encouraged you to work hard for everything, to earn it so then you would understand the hardships of life. That was the life of a female omega, forced to strive harder than any other kind. You had to battle for everything and you were not giving up now. Which is why when you signed up for this prestige college you knew you had to work until your back ached and your bones were sore. You needed the money.

So you had ended up with a small job at a cafe across the campus, it was simple at first being a waitress, taking any extra shift you could to meet the expenses you faced on the daily and it was smooth sailing. You looked out for the omegas that worked there before it transpired into a friendship between you all. They relied on you to keep them safe during the shifts and you did. Which led to you climbing the ladder to becoming a manager at the cafe. The pay was okay, enough to scrape by while also save some money. Every penny counted, you told yourself and in a way it did, it had gotten you this far after all. Yet your smooth sailing and peace was soon disrupted when the frat alphas heard about it and deemed it a place to harass the omegas. And the leader that led the great conquest was none other than Ari. You assumed that he would be there to use the Omegas yet he never did. He didn’t treat them with respect, but he never laid his hands on them or said anything vile, he would just wear a neutral expression on his face while he watched them work.

Soon his eyes landed in you, just like they did whenever he saw you, drawn like a moth to the light. His deep brown eyes would swallow your form, analysing your every move like it was a chess game. And as time grew, when you moved he did, in the most subtlest of ways. If you went to sort a customer out, in the corner of your eye you would see Ari making his form look bigger, squaring his shoulders and spreading his legs. You noticed every time which was just what he wanted, you couldn’t help but hate him for that for somehow always having your attention.

It was a Tuesday, the sun was just starting to fall and the street lights were flickering on as the darkness stretched down the streets making it known that it was evening. Autumn leaves were piled up on the streets, littering the concrete carpets of the outside world with hints of green, brown, orange and red from the leaves that had fallen from the trees leaving them barren. Inside the cafe, you were cleaning up. Mopping the floors while the 2 omega servers were behind the counter, wiping and cleaning the any spills or excess that had dribbled onto the counter while they handed out coffees or teas throughout the day. You were in your blue mom jeans and a long sleeve black top, you wanted to be warm at this time of year, you couldn’t help but worry for the girls you worked with who all wore skirts, how cold they would be or if an Alpha tried anything.

“Hey, ladies. Why don't you start getting ready to leave. I can hold this place over for the last 30 minutes.” You coo to the girls and their eyes light up. You watch as they quickly scramble up and begin to head to the back to clock out. You huff and put your hand on your hip, it’d be easier to send them home now before it got too dark. You put the mop back into the bucket and wheel it into the back. You see the girls putting their coats on and you smile softly. They beam brightly at you as they walk past nattering away with each other and soon, they leave bidding a sweet good bye.

As you were finally settling the cafe down, preparing it to be closed for the night as the customers were long gone on an autumn night and were probably at home snug in their warm homes watching creepy movies to get in the spirit for Halloween. You knew when you got back to your dorm you would be studying as always, making notes and expanding your ideas by searching things up. While you were in your drifted state of thinking, getting ready for all the notes you would have to take and trying to map out the specific points you would have to make you heard the cafe bell chime. The sweet bell ringing in your head and sweeping you back into the moment, someone was in the cafe and it was time to close. You feel your brain itching with irritation at someone coming in at the last minute just as you were leaving.

You push you hair back from your face before pinning it into a bun with a claw clip and wiping your face with your hands, hoping to wipe the sour look that had graced your face. As you walk out the back to the counter though, the sourness on your face soon reappeared. A look of disgust and disdain shinning in your eyes.

Stood there with his gorgeous brown locks swooped back was Ari. A baby blue button up shirt wrapped around his big muscular form, the sleeves rolled up and clinging to his biceps like a second skin, while he wore a pair of brown pants that hugged his big, meaty thighs. He was slouched onto the counter, his elbow resting on it and his hand balled up as his head rests on it. A smug grin pull at his lips as he sizes you up with his eyes lazily. You see the momentary look of disgust on his face appearing, no doubt from the fact you were a woman and you were working.

“You gonna give me my coffee, mutt?” Ari mutters his dark voice dominating the quietness of the cafe and disturbing your peace fully. You grind your teeth together and before you can utter anything out he beats you to it, further trying to reinstate his dominance over you trying to prove he was the alpha out of you two. “Or you gonna spit in it again? I don’t mind, at least I’ll get to taste you but of course you’re practically begging for it, aren’t you? You want me to taste you, to consume you.” You can’t hold yourself back from practically spitting at him, but you knew it would be no good. Not when a foul creature such as him, thrived off it. You take a deep breathe and he decides to stir the pot more, wanting to see you explode, to see you melt with submission. “Do it. Make my coffee, bitch. Follow my commands, you know you want to. You might seem tough but you just want to be ordered around. My little bitch, listening to her alpha like a good girl.”

Each word that leaked out of his mouth without filter spurred you on, you hold your chin up and finally spit back at him a taste of his own poison. “I’m the mutt?” You snort at him as you glare at him from behind the counter, your eyes clashing with his dark brown ones, a silent reprimand that if he didn’t stop that he would face consequences harsher than your words. “Then I guess that makes you the mangy mongrel that follows the status quo because you’re just that desperate for attention that you’ll follow the crowd. You think you’re in charge but you’re not. You’re just a little lost puppy that follows everyone around because you want their approval, you don’t wanna let them down.” You murmur softly but every word was fuelled with spite. You were calm but you wanted to tear him to shreds with soft words.

Ari straightens up, his hulking body stood at his full height and his hands have been rolled into fists. You watch as he flexes his long fingers before they rest down at his sides. A smirk graces his lips again but his eyes are darker, gleaming with menace and his aura is very strong and upset. You had wormed your way under his skin and you were thriving on it. He cracks his jaw and leans his shoulders forward with a terrifying look on his face. It unnerved you, the sick grin on his face and the malice in his eyes.

“Smart words coming from an alpha that would spread her legs for me just as fast as an Omega in heat. You’re gonna be mine, and when you do let me take that tight little cunt you’ll see your place as my slutty little Omega.” He coos to you and you shiver. He said it like it would happen, like it was fate, like it was set in stone. The way he cooed it to you like a lullaby, the calmness that ebbed from his body was horrifying. Your alpha was cowering at him at the pure dominance and certainty in his tone. You gulp and avert your eyes to the till, you don’t look down refusing to submit so much to him. You knew he would see you averting your gaze as a form of submission and looking down would only add fire to his ego.

You tap the price into the till and push the card reader to him and he pulls his card out scanning it. You quickly rush around the cafe and make him a coffee, refusing to spit in it. Especially when his eyes were glued to you. Everything about him gave you goosebumps and you wanted this over, now. So after rushing and making his coffee you hand it to him. Your inner alpha lets out a whimper when Ari wraps his large hand around yours that was clasping the drink. He hums as he scans you, like he could smell your panic. “Good girl.” He says, his deep voice rattling every bone in your body. He takes the drink, his fingers slowly rubbing yours as he pulls away. As he slinks his large form away he turns his head to look at you, a grin on his face and he winks at you before leaving.

The second the door closes you take a deep breath and gaze down at your shaking hand, Ari was bad news and he was planning something. After gathering your thoughts and reaffirming your control before it slips away, you head back to work closing the cafe and trying to focus on the notes you had to write up when you got back to your dorm, but Ari’s lingering scent was etching itself into your brain and the seed had been sewn. The game was officially on.

After that strange little show down between you and Ari, you had studied harder than ever. You just wanted to prove him wrong, that you were stronger than he ever was. That you worked hard and you would never back down. You were a determined girl with her whole life ahead of her and you weren’t going to let female alphas be a laughing stock any more. They were better than the male alphas that seemed to rule the world, you were concise you planned everything out and you had plans. So many ideas and steps to act out on, you’d be damned if you were going to let Ari stand in the way of that.

It had only been a week but you were heading to class. A business major, it was a scarce class with only about 10 students. You had been cursed with Ari being in that class but you refused to let that disrupt your education. As you shuffle down the hall way, your boots hitting the floor in a rhythmic way, you were stopped. There they stood. The alpha’s that you detested with every bone in your body, that made your blood swell and fizzle with hatred. Ari, the head hockey player, stood as tall as ever with a smug grin on his face as he wore his usual flannel that hugged his muscular body.

Followed by Bucky, a well known frat boy who had used nearly any and all omegas that he could get his tight grip on. His dark hair was groomed back and he stood in dark jeans and a leather coat that only just managed to fit his biceps in. He was 5’11 but he was still tall, he fit into the class jester world as he treated everything like it was a huge joke. You would have respected him as he worked hard to get into this college too, but his blatant disrespect for women left a sour taste in your mouth and made it nearly impossible to tolerate the alpha.

Finally, stood at the other side of Ari, was Curtis. Another hockey player that took the sport way too seriously. It was no secret that he had anger issues that he either took out on the other alphas when he was playing or a helpless omega that he would fuck so hard that they wouldn’t walk. His sharp blue eyes could cut through diamonds and his large figure could easily crush you. He towered over you at 6’4, and made you feel small as he was clad in his simple black joggers that hugged his beefy legs and a coat that added more to his size.

You raise an eyebrow at the trio of men before they snicker down at you, “See, I told you. She has bite.” Ari murmurs proudly to his friends, and the second those words left his mouth you could feel their eyes scanning you. You bristled at them all. “Get your fucking eyes on the floor you scumbags.” You say firmly with your chin raised and hell fire brimming in your eyes. Bucky snorted before he laughed hard at you. The sound bouncing off the walls and making your brain ache with frustration. This is why you had to make a difference, so no one would laugh at you the way Buck was now.

Bucky’s brown eyes sweep your form again as a lazy grin settles on his face, “Oh she is feisty.” Bucky practically sings to Ari. Curtis hums as he gazes at you still. You turn your gaze to meet him, a warning glint in your eyes. “She’s cute. I’d tear her apart on my coc-” Curtis mutters before Ari elbows him in the ribs a growl leaving his throat. “I said she’s mine.” Your eye twitches at them. “I’m not yours, mongrel. Watch your tone.” You hiss before you briskly push past the alpha’s and get into your lesson.

After ten minutes and settling into class, you were busy noting everything down. As the professor turns back to his computer to leave everyone to write their notes up, you feel your phone buzz and pull it put. A text linger on the screen from a sweet omega that you worked with. Her name was Valeria and she was short, chubby and an overall sweetheart, The most gorgeous brown eyes to ever grace a face and freckles surrounding her face like she was the night sky and they were stars. She was a very good friend and often asked you to chaperone her places, purely so she didn't get taken advantage of. She was smart and you liked that.

[Will you join me to go to a Hockey match tonight? My brothers playing and I want to cheer him on!]

You gaze at the notification and way up the pros and cons in your head. If you went then you’d have to see that awful alpha trio. But if you didn’t go, anything could happen to Valeria. You sigh, you weren’t going to be stopped seeing a sport because of three egotistical men who thought they run the school. You were above their childish games, this would be a small way to revel and you would revel in the power. With a smile on your lips at the idea of this subtle power play, you respond to her.

[Absolutely V! I’ll meet you outside your dorm at 5!]

And with that your first step had been made, and you were excited. But that feeling soon dispensed when Ari trailed in through the door before he strolled over and sat down next to you. He was so casual with everything he did, never having to worry because he knew his parents could just pay for him. Anything he wanted. From expelling someone he didn’t like to getting top grades. The world was his oyster.

He fakes a cough before dragging his head to gaze at you. He chuckles and smiles down at you like you were an ant and he was the boot about to stomp you down. “Sorry about the guys earlier. They won’t touch you. Not when I’ve had my eye on you. I mean, there’s a special collar and everything for you, mutt. Can’t wait to wrap it around your neck and claim you as my bitch.” He whispers into your ear and you have to hold back a snarl because unlike him, you couldn’t get away with everything and you couldn’t pay your way out of it. Instead you had to grin and bear it and he knew that. In fact he used that to his advantage whenever he got the option,

As the lesson drained on you could feel your mind twisting in agony at holding back retorts of disgust back at the vile creature that had decided to situate himself next to you. In the grand scheme of things, it would be worth it. Every come back you had to gulp down would have made a difference and Ari’s precious money would run out while you ruled the world. But you had to take it one step at a time. With a sigh, you clear all your things up after taking your notes and turn to Ari, a look of nothing in your eyes as you regarded the man because you saw him as nothing. He scoffs, “Watch yourself. You may be an alpha but you’re still a woman. You’ll be bred, mutt. I’d suggest quitting while you’re ahead.” He mutters before he gets up and slinks out of class leaving the threat to hang in the air. You gulp and shake your head, you’d come too far to quit and you were certainly not going to listen to a spoilt mongrel. Never.

It was busy at the hockey stadium, the seats were crowded and the variety of people that blended in with the scene made it look like a sea of people. The scents that lingered were so mixed, sweet smells that rose from all the omegas that came to see the Gods that cruised on the ice with a brutal force. To the betas that were simply there with friends or wanted to watch the sport, all over shadowed by the smell of the alphas. From the hockey players that stunk of aggression and sweat to the alphas that were hopped up on adrenaline from the bets. Overall, it was a very stuffy place to be and you slightly regretted coming, But you had made your mind up and you were not leaving Valeria alone, that and you had a point to make.

You and Valeria sit in the cold, plastic chairs that left you with an uncomfortable back but you couldn’t complain. It was probably the overwhelming amount of people and the increasing anticipation that was swelling in your chest. You were anxious and tense to see Ari’s gorgeous face drop into a murderous look when he clocked eyes on you, you weren’t scared you were just uncertain. But every subtle move in a large chess game made the players tense and nervous, this was just one step in the grand scheme of things.

As the sounds of blades cutting through the ice screeched through the stadium everyone’s attention soon turned to the game. You could see the three alpha’s you despised. All a hulking mass on the ice and in their uniform and you couldn’t help but gulp at how imposing they appeared. They could wipe you out with a simple swipe and no one would care. But you had to swallow that fear and squeeze it in your stomach to stop the bile from crawling up your throat. You were just as strong. Maybe not physically but you could easily outsmart the ape-ish men.

Throughout the game you wrung at your hands, twisting them as every scene you saw filled your heart with more terror and regret. You had watched how Ari had practically destroyed the other player. Not just in points but physically too. You couldn’t help but flinch at every bash against the stadium walls as you watch the trio of men bully a poor alpha into it. The blood that painted the ice was far too much for a simple hockey match, it was practically a death sentence to be on the ice against the team. They would wipe you out and skin you without a care, or at least that’s how it seemed. The brutality they shared against the other players seemed so personal all while they somehow looked elegant. It was sickening and Valeria shared the same sentiment as she watched her brother get slammed into the stadium walls, his head bouncing against it with a thud while Ari stay trained on the puck after mercilessly beating the younger alpha up.

Valeria let out a cry of fear as the medics swoop in and drag her brother off the ice, she gazes at you desperately and you give her a look of concern, throwing your arm over her shoulders to help calm her for a moment as she cries softly. “P-please can you go check on him. They don’t let Omegas back there.” She pleads and you find yourself agreeing to please her. You give her one last cuddle before working your way through the crowd and slipping into the locker room. Just as you walk down the hall way to them though, you hear the sound of the Hockey match ending.

Cheers and screams echoing all around you before you hear the stomping of boots coming down the corridor behind you. Within seconds you scan the are and jump into a janitor closet and hold your breath, your heart racing so loud in your chest. You felt like a spy, no, more of a peeping tom. You cover your mouth with your hand as you hear the boots pounding against the ground and the deep voices of men cheering, But, you hear one pair of boots pause directly outside your room and a deep rumble of a laugh bouncing off the walls, Ari’s laugh. Without warning you watch as light from the key hole disappears and a click sounding out before the light returns. Ari had locked you in. Your chest grows tight at the realisation of it all. You remind yourself to stay calm, Valeria knows where you are or roughly and when you don't return soon she’ll come looking for you.

That’s what you told yourself, oh how wrong you were. As the darkness crept into the hall ways and the sounds of everyone leaving drove itself into your head you felt like a doll, You were a sitting duck and now that the door was unlocking, you realised the metaphorical farmer was here to shoot you. As the door is dragged open at such a slow pace is makes your stomach turn to knots, you gulp rather taking the gun from a farmer than this. Stood bright and tall at the other side of the door was Ari, Curtis and Bucky.

They all chuckle down at you and tilt their heads. “What’s wrong, mutt? Scared of the dark or were you just sad you missed out on peeping?” Ari’s deep voice rumbles out and you feel the fire inside you burn immediately at that. Your fight filling your veins and you pathetically kicked at Ari’s ankle. Bucky’s face crumbles at the sign of your disrespect and Ari takes a step back chuckling menacingly. Just as you were about to hiss out a warning, Curtis’s big hand fists your hair and he begins dragging you back to the locker room with the men all following. “Stupid fucking girl!” Curtis barks out before he pushes you against the lockers and you let out a whimper as your ribs collide against the cold metal and knock the wind out of you.

Before you can recover, Bucky’s hand is gripping your hair and pushing you to your knocks. You gasp and gaze up at the men, regretting it now. All three towered over you as you sat on your knees. Each one of them was unzipping their flies and pulling out their hards cocks. Ari grins down at you smugly as he jerks the tip off and swipes some precum off the tip. He pushes his finger towards your lips and when you move to turn your face, he utters something so softly that you would have been fooled if it not for the promise of the end of your life. “Open your mouth mutt, or I’ll get you expelled. Say that you cheated on a test.” Although he had cooed it down to you, he made it known that he could wipe your education out in the blink of an eye without any remorse. So, you close your eyes and fight back the bile clawing at your throat again and part your lips.

His thick finger intrudes in your mouth as he swipes his precum on your tongue and you gulp. You know his rules and you know what he wanted from you, at least you thought you did. As you lean forward to wrap your lips around his thick, pink tip, he tuts at you and taps your nose like as if he were reprimanding a dog. You gaze up at him with bleary eyes, the tears already leaking down your face. “I have my friends here mutt. Don’t forget that. They deserve some attention too. After all, we just had a very tiring game, we need to get our stress out.” Ari continues to use that same soft tone and it irks you. You weren’t a pet, you were a woman, one in a terrible situation and if this was a small step to one day making a big difference, then you would suffer through it.

They form an almost triangle formation, all their cocks firm and dripping in excitement. You close your eyes and loll your tongue out and within seconds you can feel the tip of a cock sliding along it, soon followed by another and another. They were practically spilling their precum all over your tongue. You gulp before leaning forward and beginning to suck eagerly at Ari’s cock. The groan he let out was beautiful something from the sweetest melody that has ever left someone's vocal chords. You gulp that thought down though just as soon as you begin to gulp Ari's cock down your throat. You bob your head in a steady rhythm before he grips your hair and pulls you backs and guides you open, wet mouth onto Bucky’s desperate dick.

You trail your tongue all the way down Bucky's shaft before he directs you to his balls. You suck one into your mouth, ignoring your dignity that was slowly slipping out of your fingers, out of your soul. You could hear Bucky’s whimpers of delight before his hand begins to steadily pump at his cock as you slurped on his balls.

Yet again you get dragged away, but this time by Curtis. Before you can even flash him a hateful glare his cock is speared down your throat making you gag. He didn’t care though, Curtis was far too aggressive and it was shown in sex as he face fucked you. Tears streaming down your face and you could hardly breathe from your nose because of the snot. But none of the men cared. That was until Ari dragged your mouth off Curtis’s cock. You didn’t see the malicious look that Ari flashed Curtis, you were too busy being hunched over coughing and catching your breath.

That didn’t last fro long though as Ari’s large palm cupped your chin and directed it upwards, you kept your eyes closed as you heard the men shuffled. Ari opened your mouth wide again, and your jaw ached so much by now, they weren’t small men and they definitely weren’t packing small. Each cock was big or thick in it’s own way and each one made your jaw ache more and more. Now you were dreading which dick was going to be buried down your throat.

However you soon heard all the men groaning and saw a bright flash of light behind your closed eyes. You peeked an eye open and horror is painted on your face as you see Ari recording this on his phone, all three men gathered around you jerking off as they pointed their release at your face. This was terrible. Before you could even get up to run or stop this, Curtis let out a groan and his cum shot out and landed on the left side of your face. You immediately close your right eye which you had peeked open as a chain reaction occurs and Bucky paints the right side of your face.

But Ari went above and beyond and pulled your open mouth around his cock and pushed all the way down until your nose was nuzzled into the thick bed of pubic hair he had. “Fuck, that’s so good. See this mouth is better used to suck your master’s cock rather than talk.” You gagged and the tightening of your throat around his cock was all it took before he came down your throat. After a few minutes, he dislodged himself from your throat and turned his phone off from recording. You cough in the ground, tired and humiliated. You barely noticed them moving around. Bucky and Curtis dressed and cleaned. They give you a pat on the head while a satisfied smile clings to their face and they wave Ari goodbye.

You didn’t even realise Ari cleaning your face up of the cum that had been painted on it like you were a whorsh masterpiece. How he gave you water and even somehow got you an Uber home. You just felt helpless this was a bad situation to be in, even if you were wet from it that meant nothing. As you lay in bed, still in your daze you question how many female alpha’s in the world were subjected to this. Was it worth it in the end?

It had to be worth it. You got above and beyond it meant you could stop this from ever happening again, and that was all the motivation you needed. You rewired your mind and took some deep breaths reminding yourself to be strong. But first you would sleep before retrying, you needed to rest so that when you were awake you’d be ready to fight one small change a day.

The coming days after passed in a blur. A strange state that you were left in after your humiliation, after your assault- you stopped that thought immediately. You didn’t even want to remember it, you wanted to live in the emotionless blur that the days had seeped into. Your phone was crowded by texts and you just didn’t have the heart to answer any of them, you couldn’t bring yourself to ask for help and loose your role as the woman who others would come to. That’s what you told yourself, but there were numerous reasons, each one more depressing and degrading than the last. It had only been a week since the incident and yet you had holed yourself up in your dorm room, it was becoming a mess and it reflected your mind. Th blankets that were piled up on the floor were the big thoughts that you were ignoring.

You had dragged yourself to work but you had stayed in the back the whole time, not having the will to go round front and serve people. During that time you had smelt all three alphas come into the cafe. Bucky was the first to enter, you could hear him talking and flirting with the omegas and your stomach was filled with dread. It was like you could feel his eyes seeking you out even though you were hidden. When he left, you would have breathed a sigh of relief but the bile that filled your stomach travelled and you could only vomit in the toilets.

That happened with them all, but the worst was Ari, who came in on Friday. His scent was a lot stronger and it was slightly sour, almost like you could taste it. The curdling in your stomach kicked up like rotten milk would. Ari was angry. You hadn’t seen him all week, choosing to neglect class and instead doing it online instead, and your professor was so kind and sweet. He understood that although Ari had been secretly bribing him, you had finally broken and you needed space. Yet every day you had class, Ari sat in his usual seat next to yours excited to see you. To brag to you and show you the video he had against you. But you didn’t show, and the more he didn’t see you the more frustration would leak into his veins making him tense his muscles and clench his jaw. He hated that you were avoiding him.

You were shaking in the back when you heard his deep voice rumble through the cafe, it was so dark and threatening even if he was ordering a coffee. Everyone could sense it, they could see how tense he was, his eyes darting around the cafe, hunting for your form. He could smell you and it was driving him crazy. Where were you? Ari grinds his teeth as the little omega serving him shakily makes his coffee. His eyes shoot to her form and a dark look overtakes his face. He clears his throat, “Faster. I have things to do.” He grunts out and glares at the girl. She gulps and hurriedly gives him it.

He leans forwards and smirks, “Tell your little manager that if she keeps avoiding me, she’s in for a world of trouble.” His murmurs softly almost cooing down at her, but his eyes were flaring with hatred and warning. And soon turns on his heel putting the fresh coffee in the bin and marches out. All you could do was stare blankly, you heard every word and you felt yourself falling deeper into the hole that had caved itself into your mind. You wanted to sink until no one could find you again. Despite it all, you stayed strong, as strong as you could. You worked hard in your studies still and kept your work in line. You threw yourself into anything and everything to keep distracted. Including an omega group on campus that wanted to be stronger than their hormones and they were very happy to accept a female alpha that was going to help them stay strong.

You had been to one group meeting and it was so inspiring to see that they were trying to overcome the sexism that ran rampant all over the campus and society. You were happy to help build upon their ideas and even helped introduce new ones. So far they had come up with an app, a special dating app for omegas to use. It was simple but if you put in an alphas name it would come up with any recorded offences they had and just general info so then omegas would know in the future who they might spend their heat with or might mate with. You had added in the idea of logging on any crimes they had done, just so they knew what kind of person they would be partnered with. It was simple but it would make a big change in the omega dating world and you were proud to help.

Another week had passed and you found yourself at a classic frat party, people were drunkenly slobbering all over each other either through kissing or speaking. You couldn’t help but cringe at it all where had everyone's self respect gone? You were sat in the corner drinking out of one of the crappy red plastic cups that seemed to be almost dreamlike in your hand. You didn’t want to be here, so whey were you here? You pause and gaze down at the liquid in your cup before you glance back up and meets the eyes of one of the omegas from the group you had recently joined. She was shy and hidden in on herself and a deep look of sadness gleamed in your eyes and you understood why.

During you weekly meeting, the omegas had all suggested they go to a party with all types of people, and they would all have a red button. The premise was simple, if the omega was overwhelmed they would press the red button and everyone would gather round and would evacuate the party. It seemed like a good idea, a way to stand up and finally go to a party without being seen as sex object. So you all agreed happily, wanting to test this red button theory and see how well it worked.

Yet it had crumbled so quickly, after a few drinks some of the girls hit the dance floor which was just a large living room with all the furniture pushed to the side, but mixed with forty people it turned into a crowded dance floor. The red buttons that were favoured so much were now forgotten as they grinded against sleazy alphas. They were lost causes and the odd few that were left had fled the scene disappointed and scared at the outcome of their idea. Yet you were still sat there, across from Kari. She was a sweet girl, she was dressed in a cute white dress and cosy brown cardigan but despite her looking cosy and warm she was shaking. She was just so scared about the outcome, at how easily her friends gave into their hormones.

You sat patiently, keeping an eye on her. You agreed to stay with her until her Uber came and she was very thankful for it. This way, if she were to give into her hormones, you could step in and direct her away. That’s why you were stuck in this hell pit of sadness. Next morning all these omegas would be left, hanged to dry like a forgotten pair of socks on a washing line. They deserved better but in the end there was nothing you really could do. They consented and you were jealous that they had the chance to consent. Why not you? You shoved that selfish thought down and gulped down the rest of your drink, it was nobodies fault but Ari’s, Bucky’s and Curtis’s.

You push your hair back from your face and gaze at Kari, “Let’s wait outside, okay angel?” You coo to her and she nods eagerly, she hides her soft hands in the sleeves of her cardigan and fists it anxiously before she stands up and gazes at you desperately. You stand up and leave your cup on the table, before reaching your hand out and intertwining it with Kari’s hand. You navigate out of the crowded frat house, your head already easing up the second you stand outside as the cold air wraps you up in its embrace and grinds you back down to reality.

You squeeze Kari’s hand and turn your head to flash her a reassuring smile while squeezing her hand softly again. She smiles shyly back at you as you walk down the large porch and head towards the road. You could hear the loud, blaring music that was echoing out of the house and your face twists into one of disgust. You hated it all, you understood people having fun but whatever went on in that house would turn into sadness in the end. Besides you had better things to do, you had ideas in place. How you were going to create a great business one day and instead of only focusing on profits you would take care of the workers. You would let women’s voices be heard and let them climb the tower to success just like you would.

A genuine smile graces your face after the first time in weeks over the idea of creating such a powerful environment and as you walk with Kari you can’t help but begin to tell her about it. You watch her eyes light up as you go into more detail, a feeling of hope blooming from you both as you unravelled more of this idea. You felt that boost that you had been missing, that push to ignore what had happened and actually do something for once. In the future you could get justice, but for now you would have to grit your teeth and bare it, even if it hurt. It would be worth it for omegas like Kari, for strong alpha women like you and the beta women that were often left behind.

You both sit on the curb of the road, happily talking. Dreams and ambitions flowing through you both and a sense of pride leaps out your heart at how proud this omega was, how strong she was. After all the excited chatter, the Uber finally pulls up and you help her to her feet before hugging her tightly. She kisses your cheek and your heart flutters. She was a good woman and she deserved the world and you hoped you could help give her some of it. You stand back onto the pathway and give her a sweet wave as you watch her drive away. You would have gone with her but she was on the other side of campus and half way through your conversation you had noticed your phone missing. No doubt you had left it inside at the crappy party, so with a deep breathe in to encourage yourself you marched back to the party.

As you shoved your way through the mingling bodies that littered the house, you sauntered into the living room and your eyes glazed the scene before you headed towards the corner where you and Kari were sitting before. But just as you were about to approach it, you could feel every hair on your body stand up and a lump in your throat forming. You could smell them, all three of them. But before the bile could coat your stomach, you remembered the hopeful look in Kari’s eyes as you spoke about the future. And this was a step towards it, making your presence known and stepping down on the dirt that proclaimed themselves as the kings of the school.

You square your shoulders and straighten your back, your chin raised high and you turn on your heel a look of hatred flaming in your eyes. It as Bucky, holding your phone as he regarded you with a look of lust. His body language was relaxed but you could see how excited he was just at seeing you. You raise an eyebrow at him and responds with a smug smirk. “What’s wrong, Doll? Not excited to see me? I was looking all over for you. Curtis was too, he was just so sad that our freshly bloomed daisy wasn’t there for him to get his stress out. And don’t even get me started on Ari, all he’s done was rage at everyone. He’s so pissy and all because of you.” You seethe at him, looking at his dark brown locks and you square your jaw. “Give me back my phone.” You command and all you get in return is a laugh.

However, before Bucky could chortle out a response the party fell silent and Bucky stiffened before he relaxed a smug smile pulling at the corner of his lips again. You were confused for half a second before you smelt it. The searing anger that could only be produced by Ari. Bucky grins as he gazes over his shoulder watching the angry God approach you both. You could feel your heart hammer and you were close to having a panic attack but you just couldn’t afford to lose this battle, for Kari and for yourself. You gaze up at Ari’s hulking form, he stood behind Bucky with a dark look on his face that would destroy every ounce of strength of hope that clung to your bones.

“You found our little mutt. Curtis will be glad to know I’m about to put her in her place after avoiding us.” Ari grumbles out and Bucky chuckles at him. The look you receive from Bucky rattles your bones, you both know something big is about to go down. You’re about to be punished by the frat God and no one will help you.

You gazed at the other alpha that had so happily assaulted you, you watch with a sense of fear ready to fun or fight but you were cornered. Cold feelings of dread immediately gripped your form as Ari turned back to you and sized you up. He smirked as he always did, it seemed so easy to him to pull his lips into that evil look where you knew something awful was going to happen again. You couldn’t afford it again, you couldn’t lose that little spark but with every breathe that left your lips in his presence you could feel that little light being snuffed out. Bucky let out a chuckle and pat Ari firmly on the back, “Teach her her god damn place. Put your bitch in her place.” He mutters with a grin on his lips before he saunters away looking around for an Omega to pass the time.

“So, my little mutt can make it to a party but not to see me.” He mumbles before he lets out a bark of laughter, malice was dripping off every musical note that left his lips. He let his head roll down to gaze down at you through his strong nose. His gaze was so very cold it was like ice seeping into your veins and it left you gasping for air. “I have a very pretty video of you choking on my cock like a good little bitch. Now..” You couldn’t breathe at his words, your fate was sealed and you felt so hopeless. The little spark was downed out now. “You can stop avoiding me, be my good little girl and bow down, or I can send this to professors and around the school and get you kicked out of here without so much as blinking.” He cooed it to you like it was a lullaby and without thinking, the last part of you that was screaming in your head had won.

You raised you hand and it was almost in slow motion, such a delightful moment that your entire body sang praises about, as you punched him. The sound of the punch reverberated in the room and everyone fell silent. You felt giddy, excited, so much so that you felt yourself getting wet at giving him some pay back rather than laying down and dying. Ari’s head snapped to the side and he rolled his jaw cracking it almost like he, too, was savouring such a momentous moment. The moment died quickly though. Within seconds of you feeling like a hero, you fell like a villain as his large hands slid into your hair and gripped it tightly. You whimpered in pain as he fisted your hair but you soon let out a cry as he dragged you outside. No one stepped in, no one watched. It was too late for you and your destiny was sealed.

As you round a corner outside he pushed you and lets go of your hair sending you barrelling into the side of a wall, just as you recovered and looked around noting that he had dragged you into an alleyway, you heard Ari let out a sick little chuckle before you looked up and got a firm knee into your ribs. You hunch over and gasp for air before you get a knee swiftly to your face. You don’t know how your nose didn’t break, all you knew was that you were giving up. You crumpled on the floor sobbing and you gazed up at him. Blood dribbled out your nose and your face was red. You felt bruised and battered, even if it was only two hit, they were hard. He was a strong man and he was a hockey player, you didn’t stand a chance. “You’re such a fucking pest in my side. You would be perfect as my bitch. But you just have to open your fucking mouth like the desperate little mutt you are. You have to speak for the attention you’re so god damn desperate for. And then you had the nerve to punch me, with your soft little fucking hands. You should be ashamed to call yourself an alpha. You have done nothing but be a pain in my ass. At least if you were an omega, all I’d have to do is mark you. But no, you have to have it all. You want it, then you fucking got it.”

You couldn’t even hear him, all you could hear was a monotonous tone that rang in your head and you focused on that as a feeling of numbness consumed you. Yet just as you were about to fully give into it, Ari’s large hand grasped you jaw and he tutted at you before he gave a harsh slap to your face. A whimper leaves your lips and you let out a noise of anguish. This was overkill, you both knew it but he just wasn’t satisfied. “A full fucking year! That’s how long I’ve been pining for you, you dumb bitch! I learnt you schedule, everything about you! I listened to your shitty bands to understand you, to get you to bow down. Hell. I even started learning about business class when I didn’t even need it. But no! Wasn’t good enough for Miss. I’m so up my own ass! I’ve had enough. You’re mine. I have done everything for you and it’s time you repaid me.” He hisses out to you, his steely gaze burning holes into you crumpled form that was so tired and numb.

As you lift your head to gaze up at him, you watch his eyes dilate. He lets out a moan that he swallows, “I can smell you. You’re so fucking wet for me.” You can’t even bring yourself to stop him and his lies. You were wet earlier from teaching him his place but it back fired so badly. Humiliation engulfs you as you feel him wedge his shoe between your thighs. “Hump.” He hisses and you swallow a gag and finally manage to shake your head. He quickly leans down and garbs your hair again, “Fucking hump it like the desperate mutt you are or I swear to god that video goes around and I’ll pay for your life to be a living hell.” Ari promises you and you swallow the last sense of your pride and dignity.

You lift your hips before rubbing your clothing covered cunt against his shoe. You feel your eyelids flutter closed in shame but also pleasure. Through your jeans and your panties you can feel your clit rubbing deliciously against Ari’s shoe. As you hump him, your hand drag from the floor and crawl up his leg, clinging onto his calf like it was a carousel and the ride you were currently experiencing was one so unique you would never forget it. Your lips part and a small gasp leaves your lips as Ari tilts his foot upwards putting just the right amount of pressure against your clit. He adds a bit more and his hands card through your hair before he gently pulls it back and tilts your head up to face him.

You gaze up at him with half lidded eyes, One half closed from pleasure and the other from pain. The tears that gleamed in your eyes added a sparkle to them that made Ari adore you even more as his pet, how could he not? You were his toy, you just needed a firm hand even if it did break you. He would pick up the pieces and put you back together because he owns you and no other woman could compare in his mind. So as he analyses your face with adoration dripping from his soul as he takes in how beautiful your sparkling eyes were in the dim street-light. He could see the bruise that was forming a ring around your right eye, the blood that dripped out your nose and blended in with the blood from your busted lips. Such a beautiful mess that only he could ever appreciate and understand, proof of him puttying you in your place.

It was like Ari had plucked the wings off of an angel and watched it crumble and fall down to the ground in a heap in shame and sadness, and the groan that left his lips fell in sync with yours as you kept humping his foot. You let your eyelids flutter again before you hear Ari groan again, and for a moment you feel yourself snapping out of this sadistic nightmare. Your skin crawls and you stop moving your lips. Adrenaline pumps through you like cold ice enveloping your blood, without thinking your fight or flight instincts kick in and your teeth sink into Ari’s thigh. Your teeth coat with regret and blood and you scrunch your eyes tight as the world comes crashing around you. Ari’s knee met your cheek again in a much harsher blow and you were left wiped out on the floor, you let out a pitiful cough and blow splatters out.

Every part of you was aching and you felt your mind slipping. The zip of Ari’s flyer being the symphony to the loss of your mind, like a crow cawing on the day of a death or the wedding song echoing down a church while the forgotten bride sits there numb because her groom ran away. You couldn’t even stomach up the emotion to be jealous of the groom running, you now knew Ari would never let you go. Your fate was sealed and you fist the cold rocky ground and rest your forehead against it as the last tear you can muster leaves your eyes and caresses your cheek before leaning onto the cement.

Ari’s large paws grip your hips as his knees sink to the floor, the crunch of the cement being heard sliding under his shoes and he gets into his position. He flips you and you blank eyes gaze up at his, all you could see was the hatred that lingered as well as his sickening gaze of love. His eyes flick down as he tears your top of without a second thought, the sound was deafening and you couldn’t help the shiver that ran up your spine when the cold air caresses your skin. But not before the disgusting sensation of Ari’s hands soon travelled upon your skin, It was like being burnt. His hands were so warm against your ice cold skin.

You could feel his breathe against your neck, it was shaky with excitement. He tore your bra off without hesitation and for some reason you were thankful he didn’t look yet that part of you died as soon as you through it as you felt Ari begin to map out a destination on your skin with his lips. His hands were tearing at your trousers, it was like it was nothing to him. His brute strength was beyond your comprehension. A moan leaves your lips though before you even have chance to continue thinking about this giant’s strength as he wraps his lips around your nipple and begins to gently suck.

His other hand massages your breast before he moves his thumb to gently run over your nipple and the sensation that tingles down your spine at the subtle touch results in another moan leaving your lips. It was like he knew your body, and of course he did. You were the apple of his eyes and he had seen every part of you even if you didn’t know. He has memorised every vein, every inch of skin for his hands to feel, his lips to worship and his tongue to taste. Ari could feel his heart swelling with pride as he hears your moans surrounding his ears like a hug of delight. His thumb and forefinger pinch your nipple before he begins to roll it, all whilst he’s suckling on your other nipple his tongue flicking against it. You keep your eyes closed and pretend that your body is separated from this scene. Even if it felt good and the ice that ran through your body was instead turning to heat, you didn’t want this and your mouth no longer worked, either because you had been moaning so much or because of how swollen your lips were.

When he switched to lavish your other nipple with his tongue, you couldn’t stop moaning any more, but your mind was disconnected. You were floating in a void of darkness while your body tingled with delight at Ari’s touches. You could feel his spit coating your nipple and when he pulled away and blew on it, you gasped at the cold. You peaks were well presented and Ari wished that he could keep this as a picture. He was all over you and he was filled with absolute arrogance at how easily you had submitted to him. Your moans were forever engrained into his head like it was a holy prayer and he would always worship you to get to hear you sing your angelic verses. “My good girl, see you sound so much better when you whimper than when you’re barking. My pretty bitch, not a little mutt any more. You have an owner and I’m gonna spoil you.”

You could hear Ari’s words echoing in your head but they were soon silenced by the deafening tone that screeched in you head as his hands skated down your stomach and under the band of your panties. He groans, and his breathe gets heavier. He tears through the final piece of fabric and his long, thick fingers trail down before tracing your wet folds. He dips them in for a moment and brings them to his face, he sniffs them and his pupils dilate even more making his eyes seem like pure black. His tongue peeks out his lips before he licks at your juices that coat his fingers. A deep rumble leaves his chest, and the alleyway seems to shake at it. “Fuckin’ beautiful. The sweetest nectar. That’s why you’re so mouthy, isn’t it? Because you knew you tasted God damn divine.” You couldn’t even muster a reply to him, your head was turned and you were counting the small stoned that littered the ground. This was the end and you knew that Ari had won. “Present for me.” He commands but you couldn’t even move you body. Your limbs were heavy and bruised and Ari’s patience was so thin it snapped a mere second after his command left his lips.

You felt his large paws grip your hips as he turns you, he drags the scraps of clothing from your body leaving you bare to the cold, night air. You knees scraped against the cement and grazed them, your chin rested on the gravel as he twisted and turned you into you were in the right position. He drapes his body over yours, the heat from his skin blistering yours with disgust. His lips gently kissed your ears as he whispered sweet words of devotion but you focused on the tone that continued to screech in your head. You gulped as your felt him nudge you legs wider from behind, you closed your eyes tightly within seconds as you felt the tip of his cock rubbing between your folds and his groan vibrates against your back and you finally manage a tear that falls down your face and onto the cement as he slides his cock into your tight little cunt.

Ari’s eyes roll back into his head and his mouth falls agape as some drool leaves his mouth, he had torn down heavens gate and was finally in the place he had craved for years. He was in heaven, he was buried so deep in your snug little cunt. You could feel him stretching you, you could feel every vein of his cock as your pussy was wrapped around him. Your stomach felt full and empty all at once, you were either going to throw up or pass out. Ari’s large hand grabbed your chin as he pressed his bearded cheek against yours. “Mine. This is mine. You are mine. How could I ever have called you a mutt when you’re literally just a pup. My little pup who needed training. Sweet little cunt on my sweet little bitch. The places I’ll take you, the things I’ll spoil you with, you’ll never want for anything again.” He coos through groans and panting breaths.

He moves his hips and the thrust rocks your entire body, your knees grazing against the cement again this time tearing through the graze and pulling blood out. You let out a soft breath as he pulls out but soon your eyes roll back as he pushes back into the hilt. Ari let out such delicate moans and groans at every thrust he delivered to your fragile body, You were just so tight and wet, and the heat from your pussy was absolutely delicious. His hand falls from your face and falls to the pavement, practically clawing at the floor with every movement he anchors to your body. The wet squelches echo down the alley from your wet pussy and Ari’s balls finally slap against your clit making you let out a pathetic mewl that only stirred him on. It only made Ari want more of that precious little noise, he needed to have that noise injected into his heart so that every time it beat he would remember you giving in to him.

You could feel every hit of his balls just momentarily adding pressure to your clit that would make you moan and drool. Ari had enough of this, ho he had to wait for every thrust to make you moan. He moves his hand to between your legs and instantly begins to rub your clit, polishing it like a prized jewel. You cried out and Ari’s heart rate sky rocketed. Nothing could ever compare to this, to you. As he continues to rock his hips like a desperate mad man, he soon begins changing from his soft caresses on your clit to now circling it aggressively. He was abusing your clit and the sounds that you felt leaving your lips, they didn’t sound real. They sounded fake, and how you wished they were because you knew that the whispers of pleasure that were leaving your lips would only boost his ego, only encourage him.

Ari could feel the sweat that lined his body, how it was falling onto your skin, making both your scents combine. Two alpha’s now mating. A forced submission that Ari wished he could regret or feel guilty about but he simply couldn’t, not when you were finally his. He could feel you clenching around him before you let out a gasp and came around him, every time his cock speared into you a ring of your cum was around the base marking him as yours. He could feel every hair on his body prick up as he began to reach his climax. He moved his head and pressed a small delicate kiss to your neck, your scent gland. He was about to do something rare. He was about to mate another alpha, a very hard thing to do, but he had already put himself as being the most dominant out of you two. He knew you were his fate and he would never want another.

As he licked your neck with a slow pace, his hips were moving faster and he gritted his teeth together mid lick as he growled. This was it. His hands gripped your hips and he pulled you up before sinking his cock deep into your cunt, the tip pressing against your cervix and his balls rested against your clit. His seed pumped into you, filling you up. You could feel it leaking into you, but before you could even begin to comprehend his cum leaking into you, his teeth sank into you neck. Your eyes flashed white as you passed out in a heap on the floor, Ari’s cock still speared inside of you as it began to expand and knot, tying you together. His teeth coated in your blood as the bond between you snaps into place. It struggles at first rejecting the idea of to alphas being together, but Ari’s will as stronger, he knew what he wanted and he was having it. He exhaled all the breath from his lungs before taking another breath of pure contentment. He had you in the palm of his hand and he knew the clean up after this was going to be huge. He had to take care of you now. He was your mate even if you hated it. “Good pup, gonna take care of you. Promise.” He coos to your unconscious form and squeeze his body tighter against yours to keep you warm and safe in his arms.

When you finally came back to reality through the haze, you gazed down at your hands and counted your fingers before you saw the bedsheets under them. A deep red bedding was wrapped around your form, something you had never seen or owned. You slowly tilted your head up and your eyes scanned the surroundings. This place was luxurious, deep wood furniture and floors surrounded the room. It seemed almost regal. You mind spiked with memories from that night the second you smelled Ari. His scent was every where. In the room and on you and you felt your stomach turn immediately. You rushed to the bathroom on wobbly legs that barely seemed to hold you. You reached the toilet and instantly began hurling. As you emptied your stomach a hand wrapped gently around your hair and kept it away from being covered in your vomit. It was like your blood curled in seconds as you sensed who it was, you hadn’t even heard the sounds of the shower when you woke up. Ari gently rubs your back and whispers words of support and when you’re finished you rest your head on the toilet. You sob quietly. “I know, pup, I know. I’m sorry and I know you hate me. But this was for your own good.” He murmurs.

Within seconds your turn around and begin throwing punches at him, or you tried to. He wraps around your wrists and he pulled you onto his lap as he wears only a towel around his waist. You claw at him, desperately wanting to cause just one second of pain to him like he had done to you. After a few minutes the fight is torn out of you again and he picks you up, cradling you in his arms like you were his most prized love. The only thing he had ever needed. And he did, he needed you, you were his everything. So he would accept every bite, every mean comment, every slap you threw at him just so you would be okay again. He leaves you on the bed as he rushes around the room and gets dressed into a pair of boxers and a tank top. He sits on the end of the bed and gazes you. Your knees were pulled to your chest and you were vacant and his heart ached. He had caused this and even though it hurt, he knew this was needed.

He gulped and gazes down at his hands. “You were out for a week, But the bond formed and I know your mind isn’t handling it well-” You cut him off as your voice echoed out into the room in a hollow voice, “You raping me didn’t help.” The hopelessness in your voice left his stomach aching. “Yeah…” He whispers and gazes down at his hands. “I’m sorry, But I patched you up and I went to your dorm, got everything you needed.” He murmurs, he turns his head daring to glance at you, but you're still in the same position and for a brief moment he feels bad before he remembers this was necessary to make you his. To break you. And the guilt washes away from him. The silence was killing him, he gulps and speaks again, “I’ve moved you in with me, and I called in at your work. You don’t have to work again, but- um- I knew you wanted to earn your business degree, so I left that alone. I just brought the notes from the classes you missed today. Everything else is um non negotiable. You’re mine-” He winces at his word, “You have to stay close, I don’t want you working. I’ll provide and I know you want to as well but I can’t let you. That’s a command.” He whispers it, but the command was still firm. It was set in place and your life had ended. He paused and gazed at you, but all you did was breath from your nose in response. He was frustrated but he swallowed it down, he had to build you up again before he broke you.

He stands up and begins to pull on some trousers and a flannel top, he pushes his hair from his face and analyses you. “I have to go out, I have practise, As your alpha I command you not to harm yourself. That is an order.” He says firmly. He knew you wouldn’t run, you couldn’t. He clenches his hand as he fights back the urge to kiss your forehead and reassure you, and instead spreads his fingers out and grabs his hockey gear and leaves you.

It hadn’t been long, at least to Ari it hadn’t, but as his practise went on he had a looming feeling of dread swiftly travelling down his spine making him shiver. And as more time went on he got more and more distracted by the game until he felt a sharp pain in his heart, like a rubber band had been snapped. You had disobeyed one of his commands so without a second thought, Ari had ran to the locker rooms and gotten changed ignoring everyone else’s shouts of confusion of disappointment. He could feel his heart in his throat, hammering away and making him feels sick to the stomach. How could you disobey him already? He needed to retrain you or punish you. He drove past speeding limits before he pulled up to his apartment that was nearby the school. He barges his way through it and he doesn’t see you frozen in your spot on the bed but he instantly picks up on the sounds of the shower running.

The scene that greeted him had him rolling his eyes, you were such a pathetic alpha huddled into the corner of the shower as the water poured down on you. He clenched his fists and rolled his neck before his long legs dragged him to the shower, He squatted and the water poured down on him, soaking his clothes making them tighten around his strong form. He tuts and tilts his head as he gazes at your blank face. “Disobeying me already? We don’t want to be punished again, do we?” He coos and a smile splits across his face is sadistic anticipation in hopes you do want to be punished again. His eyes scan you ad watches as you shrink in on yourself and he sighs in frustration before he drags you onto his lap and pushes some wet hair from your face.

His large hands cradle your face, firm but gentle. He scan your face and a glare settles in his eyes, “You’re not even trying. Stupid fucking pup. I’m working my ass for you here. I tried to be nice, to make you feel at home despite you only being a pet. But no. It’s still not good enough for you.” He hisses into your ear but you barely acknowledge him until you hear his breathe directly against your ear. “If you don’t start acting like the strong alpha you claim to be, then I’ll fucking leave you on the side of the road with nothing. Understood?” It isn’t a threat, It's a promise you can hear the sincerity dripping off his tone and it makes you shiver. You gulp and nod your head in compliance because you had no other choice. You were trapped.

So, you gazed up at the shower head that poured the water down onto you both and closed your eyes and for a brief second you saw your future and it was glorious. Even though you were in a dark spot right now, you would claw yourself out of it and claim yourself as the true alpha you are no matter how hard it was. You had to escape Ari. You just needed to bide your time, have a plan and prepare.

Months had passed and every time that you built yourself back up to being strong and establishing yourself as a good alpha, Ari would make it known that you were nothing. Either by making you submit to him and making you spread your legs or being subjected to humiliation as you were shared between him, Bucky and Curtis. Every time you tried to help the omega group, Ari would have Curtis and Bucky ruin it and every time they would drink and party afterwards while Ari fucked you hard and left you a hollow shell.

You were stuck in a hell pit. Ari, Curtis and Bucky saw you as a special toy, one they would never grow bored of. After all they all grew up together in high school, they shared everything together and you were no different from the trophies they won at hockey games. They had a deep brother hood, Ari had always taken care of both the men. Bucky and Curtis grew up rough and their homes even rougher, and Ari grew up rich and sheltered and would often offer for them to stay with him when they were younger. This kindness Ari had shown had ended up in the men swearing a loyalty to each other. A bond and a brotherhood none of them would ever break as they were far too loyal and thrived off of each other’s dominance and they all strived to push each other. You stood no chance when Ari set his eye on you and wanted to break you. When Ari wanted you, so did the other two, but they wanted to help push you to Ari. They wanted their brother happy so if that meant having you suck their cocks while they filmed, they would happily accept. They wanted to break you but they wanted to support their brother too, they would never complain.

But after months of this abuse you grew tired and soon began becoming desperate and started searching for a plan and when you found one you began mapping everything out: See, your running plan was smart and cunning, after a lot of healing and still a lot more to come, you realised that being Ari’s mate wasn't the end of the world. Rather it was the start of it. Because you no longer had a job it meant you could take another class and you did, you took a computer class. You had researched Ari’s dad’s company when he would go to hockey practise and you had your eyes on the prize. When you got your degrees and finally married Ari, you would take over the business at the first female Alpha. Ari didn’t stand a chance. You were ready, and his father was getting close to death. You knew Ari would agree because of the rocky start to your relationship and how he would do anything to amend it. This was your high road, your way to victory and glory where you would prove everyone wrong. Of course it meant playing along a bit, but you were doing it with easy now days. You and Ari had sex often and you found yourself liking some of the presents that he had spoiled you with.

But whilst you were being cunning, Ari had his plan in motion too. It was simple and an easy one, one that could wait with time. He would knock you up. He knew you were ambitious and you would no doubt try and rub the company and it would be fun to watch you do it. But all it took was one baby and you were out of the game. And the second you were put, Ari would be back on top. As the leader of the company, as the true alpha between you both. And you wouldn’t ever complain because you would be too busy doting on your child, inspiring it to make a change one day. That’s all it would take and he was well on the way to winning.

So as you stand so proudly in the crowd and throw your graduation cap in the air bursting at the seams with excitement over the changes you were about to make, you had no clue that it would be so short lived. As days later you would find out that Ari had won again and you were pregnant with his child, forever sealing you as his.

[witchywithwhiskey]

a gift for the bar owner

pairings: dark trucker!ari levinson x female reader, soft!dark bar owner!curtis everett x female reader

summary: for curtis's birthday, ari gives you to him for the night.

warnings: 18+ content (minors do not interact!!!), smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, drunk sex, intoxication, rough sex, oral object insertion (f receiving), masturbation (m), cumshot, exhibitionism, sadism/masochism, painplay, rough body play, biting, free use, heavy objectification, heavy degradation, humiliation kink, salirophilia (kink for ruining someone's appearance/dirtying them up), somnophilia, cock warming, dirty talk, praise kink, daddy kink (only with ari), pet names (bambi, baby, kiddo), possessive behavior, aftercare, a couple mean hot men—let me know if i missed anything!!!

word count: 7.9k

a/n: ok so i have no excuse for this except i saw a gif of a girl getting wine poured over her face/chest and i wondered who of my characters would do that. and apparently the answer is dive bar owner curtis. so here we are. also please note that this little fic takes place after the chapter of trucker king where curtis and lloyd will be properly introduced so no, you're not supposed to know what exactly reader's tattoo is and yes, i will be revealing that in due time.

trucker king masterlist ● trucker au masterlist

Since Curtis Everett was one of Ari Levinson’s oldest friends—and one of the few people he trusted—your trucker decided that the perfect gift to give his friend for his birthday was you. A whole night where you were nothing more than Curtis’s free use fuck toy. 

The only condition was that Curtis had to follow the same rules Ari had set the last time he’d let his friend use you—no kissing, no permanent marks, and no coming inside you. Curtis had quickly agreed, and the plans were set.

Ari hadn’t asked you whether you wanted to be gifted to Curtis for his birthday, but you still thought it was a great idea. 

After all, Curtis worked so hard running Everett’s Roadhouse, the dive bar just off the highway that was frequented by Ari and plenty of other truckers, and he deserved a night of having his own personal fuck toy to use however he wanted. It was his birthday, and he didn’t have a girl of his own, so you didn’t mind stepping in for the night.

In fact, after the evening you’d spent with Curtis and Ari’s other oldest friend, Lloyd Hansen—when your trucker had given them permission to use you however they wanted in exchange for some favors—you were excited to be Curtis’s birthday gift. You’d liked the big, grumbling bar owner, and you wanted to make his birthday special. 

As part of his gift, Ari had let Curtis pick out what you’d wear. So you strolled into Everett’s Roadhouse on the night of Curtis’s birthday wearing the sweetest little sundress you owned—and nothing else besides the shoes on your feet. 

The dress was a bright white cotton with little flowers dotted all over it, and short enough to swirl around your upper thighs. The sweet little garment was at odds with your surroundings in the dive bar, which were grimy and dirty, lit by dim lightbulbs and flickering neon beer signs. It made you stand out immediately.

As soon as you entered the bar, every man in the establishment turned to look at you, their gazes ranging from drunken interest to greedy hunger. Even with Ari at your side, his posessive hand on your lower back, they couldn’t seem to drag their covetous eyes away from you, like you were an oasis in the desert.  

It took you a moment to understand the attention, but when you did, a delicious tremor of excitement raced down your spine—you were the only woman in the whole building. The bar was closed for Curtis’s private party, and the only people in attendance were his friends, who were all rough-looking men that you presumed were mostly truckers or old friends like Ari. 

You wondered, not for the first time since Ari had told you his plans for his friend’s birthday, what exactly Curtis would do with you. You knew Ari’s rules would save you from anything too unpleasant, but there was so much they didn’t cover. The possibilities of how Curtis might use you made your pussy tingle with anticipation.

Ari’s hand was firm on your lower back as he guided you further into the bar, your wedge sandals sticking slightly to the filthy wooden floors of the roadhouse. The gazes of all the men you walked past slid over your bare skin like oil, the sensation settling heavily between your thighs, where a sensual warmth bloomed. 

That warmth only grew the closer you got to Curtis, who stood half a head taller than any man in the bar. The imposing bear of a man was leaning against the bartop, talking with someone about something, his broad shoulders and thick biceps stretching the limits of his black t-shirt. Curtis’s blue eyes were bright in the dingy lights of the bar, contrasting against his pale skin, dark beard and shorn hair. 

When you finally arrived at the circle of men gathered around Curtis, Ari gave you a shove through the crowd and you stumbled toward the bar owner. It was only when Curtis fumbled to catch you in his arms—the stench of beer thick on his breath—that you realized he was already so drunk, he could barely stand, and that was why he’d been leaning against the bar. 

“Hey there, bambi,” he slurred, his arms loosely circling your waist. His hands slid down to grope your ass, but Curtis must’ve forgotten he was still holding a beer, because you felt it tip. A second later, cold liquid spilled over the plush curves of your ass.

Instinctively, you squealed his name, “Curtis!” The cold beer was running down the valley between your cheeks, making you squirm in his arms. You tried to get away from the spilling liquid, but you ended up pressing closer to Curtis’s massive, burly chest, practically climbing the tall man with your fingers fisting in his t-shirt and your body plastering to his.

Thankfully, Curtis didn’t mind in the least. He managed to right his beer and chuckled, looking down at you fondly, his mouth curled in a devastating smirk even as his eyes were hazy with drink. The alcohol seemed to have softened Curtis’s rough edges, and he appeared almost warm—nothing like the grumbling man you’d met previously.

“Damn, bambi, ya just got here,” he said, loud enough for the men closest to him to hear. “And yer already trying to jump on my dick like some kind of slut, huh?” He chuckled darkly and his friends joined in, making heat creep up your neck and fill your cheeks. 

But you didn’t deny it.

Instead, you recovered yourself quickly, forgetting the beer still plastering your dress to your ass and pressed closer to Curtis. Wrapping your arms around his neck and pushing your tits against his broad chest, you enjoyed the way his eyes dipped lazily down to your low-cut neckline. 

“I’m yours for the night, big man,” you purred, your body warming and responding to being pressed so tight against Curtis’s muscled chest. It wasn’t difficult to let a seductive smile curl your lips. “You can do anything you want with me.” 

A grin spread slowly across Curtis’s face, the expression lecherous on his handsome features as he leered down at you. 

Before he responded, though, his gaze shifted over your shoulder, and he gave a quick nod. You knew without looking the gesture was meant for Ari—an acknowledgement that Curtis remembered your trucker’s rules and understood he couldn’t do anything. But close enough. 

Curtis’s free hand groped your ass hard as he turned to the crowd, taking a swig of his beer before calling out to his friends.

“Didja hear that fellas?” he crowed, his excited energy riling up the throng of men, all of whom seemed to be as drunk or drunker than Curtis. “Ari’s little cock slut said I get to do anything I want with her tonight!” 

A cheer rose up from the crowd, men all around you raising their glasses in the air while they yelled so loud it felt like a physical cloud of excitement. The energy was infectious, an eager grin curving your lips as you looked around at all the truckers and degenerates who were celebrating your objectification as a free use fuck toy.

Out of curiosity, you turned to look for Ari among them. You found your trucker standing still and quiet, watching you, a glass of amber liquid in one hand. His arms were crossed over his broad chest and he wore a devious little smirk on his face that had your body warming with arousal. Even though he wasn’t joining in on the deafening cheer, you knew he was just as excited by the prospect of seeing you used by Curtis as everyone else.

Before Ari could direct you to look back at Curtis, the big man you were plastered against got your attention with his next words, shouted to the crowd.

Curtis had waited until the cheering died down a little to ask, “So what should I do with her first?”  

Obscene suggestions were hurled at you and Curtis, men’s voices blending into a cacophony of depravity. The things the crowd wanted Curtis to do to you ranged so wildly from nearly tame to absolutely vile that it made your head spin. Ari’s rules would prevent the worst of the suggestions, but not everything that Curtis’s friends were calling out, and you wondered with a twisted shiver of excitement what your trucker’s friend would pick to do to you.

“POUR YOUR BEER ON HER!”

Curtis’s whole body turned to the voice that had called out that last suggestion, dragging you along with him since your arms were still looped around his neck, his hand still holding your ass. Curtis pointed at his friend with his beer, some of it sloshing onto the floor with the fervor of the gesture.

“Now that’s an idea,” he shouted to the man in the crowd you couldn’t see. Curtis tipped his beer in his friend’s direction then took a swig. He looked down at where you were still pressed against his chest, your body hanging from where your arms were holding onto him. “Get on your knees, bambi.” His voice was rolling thunder, so deep and dark, it sent tiny, pleasurable zaps of lightning through your nervous system. 

The speed with which you detached yourself from Curtis and dropped to your knees had the men all around you whistling in appreciation. You heard more than a few of them mutter things like, “What a good, well-trained slut,” and “Gotta get me a girl like that.”

You preened and beamed with pride at the praise, finding Ari in the crowd again and hoping your behavior reflected well on him. He’d been the one to train you to follow orders so well, after all.

Your trucker gave you a small nod of recognition that made happiness burst in your chest, and you turned back to Curtis with a happy bounce of your hips. You couldn’t help but notice the low groans that came as a result of the little movement and you smiled wider.

The wooden floor was sticky beneath your bare knees, but you paid it no mind. You suspected—and you’d turn out to be right—that you’d be dirtier and filthier than even the floor of Everett’s Roadhouse before the night was through. The excitement you felt made you bounce again, making your sweet little sundress flutter around your thighs.

Curtis’s eyes watched the hem of your dress hungrily, seemingly distracted by the movement until he shook himself and remembered what he was doing. Raising his beer, Curtis let the crowd cheer for a moment while you waited with anticipation. From your spot on the floor, Curtis looked even bigger and more intimidating, which made something low in your belly quiver with excitement, heat gathering between your thighs as your thoughts skated away.

A growled question from your trucker’s friend brought you back to the moment.

“Ya ready, bambi?” 

Your hands were laying lightly on your thighs, your knees spread on the floor. You were more than ready, and at Curtis’s question, you tossed your head back and pushed your tits out, giving him a challenging smirk as you purred, “Gimme what ya got, big man.”

A half feral grin spread across Curtis’s face, and then he was tipping his bottle toward you, cold beer splashing over your face mere seconds after you shut your eyes. The pungent liquid rolled down your cheeks and slid down your neck, soaking the front of your white dress. 

You could feel the fabric clinging to your skin, the white cotton no doubt becoming see-through as it was soaked in beer. Your nipples puckered and hardened against the flimsy material, putting on a show for Curtis and the crowd of men around you.

The bar owner emptied the bottle over your face and the front of your body, the beer getting in your mouth and nose, rivulets streaming down over your tits and between your spread thighs. It dripped to the floor beneath you, creating a small puddle on the sticky wooden boards. 

All around you, men cheered loudly and lewdly, urging Curtis to degrade you as the filthy slut you were. You grinned at the attention, loving every second of it and knowing that the men were only allowed to witness what Curtis was doing because Ari allowed it. Because Ari had given you to his friend for his birthday, and this was what Curtis had decided to do with you.

When the beer stopped flowing, you fluttered your eyes open, blinking the alcohol from your vision as you stared up into Curtis’s darkened blue eyes. You knew you must look a mess. You’d worn makeup that wouldn’t hold up to such an onslaught, and you had no doubt that your black mascara was streaming down your cheeks and adding to the wreckage of your face. But the way Curtis looked at you made you think he liked it—a lot.

“Edgar, gimme another beer!” Curtis called, keeping his gaze locked on you, his blue eyes dipping down to take in the sight of your beer-stained dress. 

The slip of fabric was sticking to your skin and it had become see-through where it had gotten wet. But it wasn’t drenched yet, and you could tell from the glint in Curtis’s eye that he wouldn’t stop until it bared you entirely. Excitement fizzed through you, and you bounced your hips while you waited impatiently for Curtis’s command to be met.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw one of the bartenders open a new bottle of beer and pass it into Curtis’s big, waiting hand. Neither you nor the bar owner took your eyes off each other, and it made the moment all the more intense. For all that you had an audience to your degradation, in that moment, you were there for Curtis, and only Curtis. You were his, if only temporarily, and he seemed to relish that knowledge just as much as you did.

“Ya thirsty, bambi?” he asked, some of the drunken slurring leeching out of his tone as he grinned lecherously down at you. His gaze broke away from you and he looked around at the men gathered close but not touching you, his eyes sparkling with depravity when he met yours again. “Ya want some more?’

Your heart was racing with excitement, the awareness of having so many men watching you thrumming deliciously beneath your skin; you couldn’t help the way your hips bounced with eagerness as you nodded quickly. “Yes, please,” you said sweetly, biting your lip to stop from grinning too wide up at your trucker’s friend.

Curtis’s eyes darkened with sinful intent and you felt yourself growing wet. But the dampness between your thighs had nothing to do with the beer Curtis had poured on you, and everything to do with the fact that you were so turned on by the way he was treating you. And all the while, you could feel your trucker’s eyes on you, a reminder that you were Ari’s and he’d given you to Curtis as a gift. 

“Stick your tongue out,” Curtis rumbled, a thread of steel in his voice that made you shiver. In that moment, he reminded you of the grumbling man you’d met when Ari first introduced you to his friends, and you realized you’d missed that side of him. “Show all my friends what a good little slut you are.”

If you could’ve followed the order and smiled at the same time, you would’ve. Instead, you had to settle for submitting to Curtis’s command, sticking your tongue out as far as possible and tipping your head back, letting him see down your throat.

It was an invitation for him to give you more, to give you all he had, and the entire bar knew it. The men surrounding you roared their approval while Curtis offered you a pleased little smirk. It was the nicest he’d ever looked and it nearly made you smile, but you held your position.

“That’s it, open wide, slut,” Curtis encouraged in a low, roughened voice, depraved delight sparking in his blue gaze as he degraded you on the floor of his bar.

The look in his eye and the tenor of his tone made you quiver. Your pussy throbbed more insistently with need the longer you stayed on your knees and submitted to the degradation the bar owner offered. But you channeled that desire into opening your mouth wider, sticking your tongue out a little bit further, catching the approving smirk that flickered at the corners of Curtis’s mouth.

The bar owner nodded at you, took a sip of his new beer, and then, with no other preamble, he tipped the brown bottle over your face, showering you in the bitter liquid. 

With your lips open and tongue out, plenty of the beer splashed into your mouth and you swallowed it down as best you could. Despite your best efforts, you choked and gagged a little, tears slipping from your eyes to join the rest of the mess on your face as you endured Curtis’s treatment.

The men in the crowd jeered as you struggled beneath the degrading pour of Curtis’s beer, but he shifted his hand, the cold liquid moving to pour down the front of your body. The stream seemed endless and you could feel the beer soaking into your dress until the entire front of the garment was drenched.

By the time the bottle was empty, you felt half drowned, gulping down air as the beer you’d swallowed sloshed around in your belly. Your head was a little dizzy, and you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or the lack of air, but you swayed a little on your knees, glancing down to find that the entire front of your dress was see-through, your tits and puckered nipples on full display for everyone to see.

At the sight of yourself, your pussy throbbed, your inner walls clenching pathetically around nothing as desire blazed through your body. When you looked up at Curtis, you were certain he could see your arousal in every line of your expression, and he smirked, the expression sharp on his handsome face.

“Y’know, bambi, your dress is a little dirty,” Curtis rumbled, as if he hadn’t been the one to sully it in the first place. But you didn’t care about that, you only cared about the anticipation building in your body. You knew Curtis was leading somewhere and you couldn’t wait for him to get there. “I can’t let you walk around my bar like that, dripping beer everywhere.” 

It escaped no one that Curtis’s dive bar was plenty dirty already and a few drops of beer wouldn’t make it much worse, but a cheer rose from the crowd as they caught on to the fact that Curtis was planning something. You bounced slightly on your knees, pouting up at the bar owner and trying to look abashed, biting your lip against a grin. 

“What’re you gonna do about it, big man?” you asked sweetly. 

Curtis gave you a half-feral grin, the expression more snarl than anything else, and it was your only warning. 

Faster than you would’ve thought possible for the big, drunk man, Curtis stooped down and slipped his hands into the neck of your dress, his rough fingers grazing your soft flesh. You let out a quiet little moan that you were certain only Curtis could hear, making him pause for a brief second, his eyes fluttering closed. But then his hands were moving again, yanking on your dress.

In a split second, Curtis ripped your dress right down the center. You gasped loudly as your tits were bared to the crowd of men in the bar, the sound loud in the moment of stunned silence. Your breasts bounced free of their confines, your nipples hardening and revealing to the whole room how much you were enjoying Curtis’s rough treatment.

The cheer that broke out at your nakedness was so loud, it made your ears ring. It also drowned out the sound of rending fabric as Curtis tore the shredded garment from your body, flinging it into the crowd. His eyes were heavy as they trailed down your body, your skin prickling everywhere he looked—your nipples tightening into desperate peaks and your pussy weeping from where it was nestled between your parted thighs.

Curtis’s eyes flared at the sight of the tattoo just above your slit, a reminder of who you belonged to. But you hoped it also reminded Curtis of the first night you’d met him—the night Ari had given you to both Curtis and Lloyd to use how they wanted. Your pussy dripped at the memory, and it seemed Curtis was just as affected, the big man pausing for a moment before he shook himself. 

“That’s better,” Curtis muttered, his gaze lingering on your weeping pussy like he wanted to bury his bearded face against your soft cunt. Instead, he dragged his eyes back up your body, the blue of his irises darkened to the color of the midnight sky as he murmured for your ears only, “Look so fucking pretty, bambi.”

You smiled and ducked your head at the compliment, which meant more to you than the obscene catcalls and lewd cries from the crowd around you. It was a reminder of the friendship that you and Curtis shared. You may have met because he was one of your trucker’s oldest friends, but you hoped Curtis knew you thought of him as your friend too.

“Thank you,” you whispered, looking up at the bar owner from under your lashes. “Are you enjoying your birthday?”

Something resembling a grin curved the edges of Curtis’s mouth, the expression nearly hidden in his beard. His eyes slid away and looked up, and you knew without having to check that he was looking at Ari again. Before you could discern what the glance meant, though, Curtis was chucking you under the chin and saying, “I am, thanks to you, bambi.” 

Your heart gave a happy little flutter, but before you could respond, Curtis was standing up and waving his arms to get the crowd to quiet down. “What d’ya think fellas, is Ari’s little cock slut dirty enough yet?” 

The beer that had already been poured on you was starting to dry into a sticky, tacky layer on your skin, but your pussy dripped at the thought of Curtis wanting to make you even filthier. And it seemed his friends liked the idea as well, because they cheered so loud, it felt like the floor was shaking beneath your knees. 

Edgar the bartender already had a beer open and waiting for Curtis when the big man turned to grab one. That time, the bar owner didn’t even need to command you to open your mouth and stick out your tongue—you did that all on your own. Curtis’s smirk was pleased and his blue eyes glimmered with fondness as he tipped the beer over your face, pouring the liquid down your throat and over your body to the cheers of all his friends.

For the better part of the next hour, Curtis took his time defiling you while you sat, naked and on your knees, in the center of his bar, enduring it willingly as the free use toy he’d been given for his birthday. A good amount of the alcohol that didn’t run down over your tits and splash over your pussy went down your throat, and it wasn’t long before your head began to swim. 

Still, your body felt heavy with desire, your nipples tight and desperate to be played with, your cunt pulsing and aching to be filled. It was only because Curtis seemed to be having so much fun, his friends urging him on to make you dirtier and filthier, that you didn’t break down and beg him to fuck you. 

But you couldn’t help the way your body was responding, your mouth falling slack at the teasing slide of liquid over your puckered nipples. If you arched your body just right, and spread your thighs wide enough, you could feel the trickle of beer over you clit, and it made a low moan slip from your mouth as your eyes fluttered closed in pleasure.

Curtis’s dark chuckle from above was your only warning. At that moment, he shoved the neck of his beer bottle into your mouth, pushing your lips wide and making you gag as your eyes flew open in surprise. 

“That needy little mouth is begging to be fucked, bambi,” the bar owner growled, quickly unzipping his fly and wedging the bottom of the beer between the zipper’s teeth so he could hold your head in both hands and fuck you with the glass bottle. “Take it, cock slut, fucking take it,” he grunted obscenely. 

All you could do was choke and struggle, the remainder of the beer sloshing down your throat and joining the rest in your belly. Your fingers fisted in the denim jeans encasing Curtis’s thick thighs, but you didn’t push him away. It felt good to finally have one of your holes used, even if you were being fucked by Curtis’s beer bottle instead of his cock like you’d wanted. 

Your jaw hurt by the time he pulled away, your lips swollen from being wrapped around the wide glass. Your body swayed unsteadily on your knees, arousal dripping down between your thighs and joining the mess of beer on the floor. The cheers of the crowd had faded into a constant rumble, and you smile dazedly when they urged Curtis on. 

Suddenly, a big bear paw of a hand was wrapping around your upper arm and you were being hauled to your feet. Blood rushed to your legs, your head swimming and lolling to the side as you tried to find your footing. But standing seemed impossible—and unimportant as arousal burned through you, making you whimper and whine desperately. You hoped someone would fuck you soon.

Curtis chuckled at your pathetic noises, the husky sound sending shivers down your spine as his lips grazed your ear. “You’re not too drunk to fuck, are ya, bambi?” he asked in a low, growly voice as he pressed his hips against you, his hard bulge digging into your belly. 

When you’d first walked into Everett’s Roadhouse that night and saw the state of the bar owner, you’d thought there was no way he’d be able to fuck you with how drunk he was. But the hour spent pouring so many bottles of beer over your body instead of drinking them had sobered Curtis up enough to get hard. He was stiff and twitching and pressing into you through his jeans and you wanted him to bury his cock in you.

Your dazed smile widened into a giddy grin and you tipped your head back, blinking your eyes a few times to get your vision to focus enough to see Curtis’s face. “It’s your birfday, big man,” you said, your voice more slurring than sultry, a hiccup interrupting you and making you pause. “I’m use to yours.” Your expression scrunched into a confused pout, knowing your words weren’t right, and tried again. “I’m yours to fuck.”

Curtis was laughing as he hauled you over to one of the pool tables off to the side of the bar, and tossed you down on the green felt. You lay limply on your back, staring up at your trucker’s tall friend while he glared at the guys who’d been playing a game on the table. Their grumbling quickly cut off and Curtis returned his attention to you. 

The crowd shifted to gather around the pool table while Curtis pulled out his cock, which was just as massive as the rest of him. The thick length lay against your mound, the girth covering much of the tattoo there, the tip nearly reaching your belly button. Your inner walls clenched in anticipation of taking Curtis inside you—you couldn’t wait.

“Gimme, gimme,” you mumbled, spreading your thighs wide and pushing your pussy up against the stiff, velvet-wrapped steel of Curtis’s cock. It twitched against your mound, precum dripping onto your belly and joining the mess on your skin. 

Curtis chuckled at your antics, rumbling, “Alright, bambi.” The bar owner grabbed your thighs, pushing you wide as he pulled his hips back, lining up the tip of his big cock with your entrance. Without any warning or preparation, Curtis barreled into your cunt, burying his big cock to the hilt with one thrust. 

Instantly, stinging pain and scorching pleasure cut white-hot through the core of you, overwhelming your mind and leaving your body to react however it wanted. Your head was thrown back, and your lips parted to let out a piercing scream that shattered through the noise of the dive bar.

“Fuck yeah, bambi, scream for me,” Curtis groaned, his big hands kneading your thighs, fingers digging into your plush softness hard enough to hurt. He pulled your body into his, managing to grind his cock even deeper into your pussy, wrenching another, surprised shriek from your lips.

You felt like you were being split in half, pain and pleasure ricocheting through your body fast enough to make you dizzy, your drunken mind unable to tell the difference between the two. All you knew was that it was so much, so overwhelming, and your hands reached out above your head, searching for something to cling to as your mind splintered and your body trembled from the sensation of being split open on Curtis’s cock.

Two warm hands wrapped firmly around your wrists, pinning them to the rough felt of the pool table, leaving you powerless to Curtis’s massive cock. He was rocking his hips in tiny little thrusts, the tip of his length battering against your cervix and wringing helpless little whimpers from your lips as your hazy eyes searched above you for the man pinning you down—somehow knowing before your gaze collided with the familiar blue of your trucker’s eyes that it was Ari.

His face was hovering above you, upside down as he leaned over the table to catch your gaze. The edges of Ari’s features were blurred, but you would’ve recognized your trucker even if you were blackout drunk—even if you were so intoxicated you were more unconscious than not. 

Ari’s face was like a star, familiar and steady, and you smiled happily up at him, your heart warming when you noticed the pride in his gaze. 

“You’re doing well, baby,” Ari rumbled, his features sharp and his expression hard. But deep in the blue depths of his eyes, you could see the affection you knew he felt for you. “You’re being such a good fuck toy for daddy’s friend on his birthday.”

You giggled, squirming happily on the pool table, your face upturned to your trucker, your attention completely diverted from Curtis and his cock, even as he still fucked you. You were having fun with the bar owner, but nothing and no one would ever be able to come between you and Ari. You were his, always, and he knew it.

Ari leaned down, and you thought for a moment he was going to kiss you, but you should’ve known better. Ari’s teeth nipped the soft lobe of your ear, making you moan, before he spoke words meant only for you.

“When Curtis is done, I’m gonna fuck your filthy little cunt, kiddo, so don’t pass out,” he rumbled, the twisted promise making your cunt clench around his friend’s cock. “Or do, it doesn’t matter to me.” Ari sank his teeth into the bone at the corner of your jaw, biting you hard enough to make you cry out. “I’m gonna use your holes whether you’re awake or not.”

A helpless moan slipped from your lips, your legs spreading wider instinctively at the thought of your trucker using your cunt to get off while you lay unconscious in his bed. You smiled adoringly up at Ari, blinking your eyes slowly. It took you a moment before your swimming vision could focus on Ari’s face, and when he saw he had your attention, he jerked his chin sharply at his friend, commanding you wordlessly to look back at Curtis.

You did, following your trucker’s order immediately, finding the massive bar owner watching you and Ari with a look on his face you couldn’t quite identify. The only way you could describe it was…openly gluttonous. Curtis looked like he wasn’t merely jealous of what you and Ari had, he looked like he would’ve stolen you away from his friend if there was any chance in the universe you’d look at him the same way.

But there wasn’t, and Curtis’s expression shifted as he resigned himself for having the piece of you that Ari had given him for his birthday. It would have to be enough, because even though his cock was inside you, you were still Ari’s and Ari’s alone. 

Curtis grabbed a beer off the edge of the pool table and chugged half of it. As he set it back down, he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and leaned over you, his big hands grabbing your thighs again, his fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. 

The pain only made your arousal flare hotter and you smiled up at your trucker’s friend, murmuring, “Happy birthday, big man.”

“Thank you, bambi,” he muttered, low enough that you knew it was just for you. Then a smirk spread across Curtis’s face, his eyes lighting with filthy desire. “Now, scream if my dick’s too big for your tight little cunt, ya filthy slut.”

With that, Curtis pulled out until only the tip of his cock remained in your grasping channel, then he slammed inside you. Even with your body having adjusted to the sheer size of him, his hard, brutal thrust pulled a scream from your throat, your back arching up off the table and your wrists pulling against Ari’s hold. 

Curtis laughed loudly as the crowd cheered, the big bar owner setting a ferocious pace as he fucked you hard enough that you knew you were going to be sore for days. But you loved it. You loved the pain and the pleasure and the roaring of the crowd as Curtis fucked you in front of all his friends. 

You loved the way Ari’s hands held your arms pinned above your head, how it bared your tits to Curtis, who bent over your body to finally suck on your aching nipples. You loved the way Curtis’s beard rasped against your skin, making you shiver as your pussy clenched hard around his thick cock.

Your mind floated deliriously through the waves of pleasure and pain crashing over your body. You felt drunk on cock and alcohol, not knowing how much time passed as Curtis fucked you, but it seemed to go on forever. Your body was wound so tight for so long, you reached a point where you didn’t know if you were even going to come, or if you were simply going to hover on the edge for the rest of eternity.

“Look at me, bambi,” Curtis growled, dragging your attention back to his handsome face. 

It was only then that you realized you’d been staring up unseeingly at the ceiling of the bar, the golden and neon lights swimming through your vision as you lay limply beneath your trucker’s friend. 

Curtis’s blue eyes were dark and his mouth was twisted into a desirous snarl, his beard making him look like a feral beast as he pounded into you. 

“You’re gonna come on my cock, d’you hear me?” 

Words escaped you, your tongue simply lolling out over your bottom lip when you opened your mouth to respond. All you could manage was a frantic whine as you bobbed your head in a nod. 

“Good slut,” Curtis grunted, one of his hands falling to your lower belly, his thumb finding your clit between your slippery folds. “Come on my cock, bambi, c’mon, come on my big dick like a good little cock slut.” The rough pad of his thumb rubbed your slick, puffy clit unrelentingly, and suddenly, you were tipping over the edge.

Your mouth fell open wider and your spine arched up off the pool table as you screamed, your release crashing over you, wave after wave of pleasure hurtling you closer and closer to a darkness that wanted to claim you. But you clung to consciousness, your scream turning into a high, keening whine that could’ve been a sign of pain or pleasure. 

Your release seemed to spur on Curtis and he rutted into you, fucking your clenching pussy as he watched pleasure contort your face and body. Then, with a final grunt, Curtis pulled himself free from your body. He jerked his cock in a big fist until he spilled all over your belly, making sure none of his come fell anywhere near your pussy or the tattoo there.

Curtis’s chest heaved, his eyes distant and dazed with pleasure as he wrung every last drop of come from his cock, and you watched him with the satisfied smile of a job well done. 

When the last rope of his come had splattered, warm and sticky, against your belly, Curtis finally sucked in a deep breath and grabbed the beer handed to him from the crowd. He took a deep swig while he tucked his cock away with the other hand. 

“Thanks, Levinson,” Curtis rasped, tipping his bottle to your trucker, who just nodded. Ari’s hands were idly massaging your wrists and you melted onto the rough felt of the pool table, knowing your trucker would take care of you. Curtis turned his blue eyes on you, and he tipped his bottle to you as well. “Always a pleasure, bambi,” he said, a genuine look of appreciation on his face. 

You were about to respond, but then Curtis turned his beer over and he used the alcohol to wash his come from your skin. You squealed loudly when the cold liquid rushed over your heated skin, instinctively bringing up your legs to curl into yourself, making the crowd laugh and jeer. 

When the beer was empty and his spend was cleaned from your skin, Curtis stumbled away into the crowd, the big man being swallowed up by the well-wishers and revelers congratulating him on fucking you good. Since you knew Curtis was done with you, you looked up at Ari, twisting your hands to wrap your fingers around his arms.

“Can we go now, daddy?” you asked softly.

Ari nodded and gathered you up from the pool table, setting you down on the edge while he pulled off the flannel shirt he’d worn over a white t-shirt. He tugged it over your head and helped you get your trembling arms in the sleeves, then ducked down to brush a kiss to your lips. The events of the night were catching up to you, and you were drunk and exhausted, but you sighed into your trucker’s mouth.

“You did good tonight, baby,” Ari murmured against your lips, and your heart felt like it was suffused in the warmest sunlight. Ari’s praise made you feel lighter than air, even as he pulled away.

You smiled up at your trucker as he straightened, staring at Ari like he was your whole world, which he was. His eyes were the softest you’d ever seen them as he stared right back at you, the tiniest smile curling the corners of his mouth. 

Just then, Lloyd materialized out of the crowd and Ari finally looked away from you to exchange a loaded glance with his other oldest friend. Lloyd seemed to be much more sober than Curtis, and he helped your trucker lead you to the bathroom, where Ari cleaned you up a little and let you relieve yourself after all that you’d had to drink that night. 

Then, Lloyd cleared a path through the drunken crowd while you and Ari followed. Between the two men, no one dared to try to touch you, and you sank into Ari’s side, feeling safe with your trucker as you looped your arms loosely around his waist. He smelled familiar and wonderful and you didn’t even try to hold yourself back from burying your face in his chest even as you kept on walking.

Lloyd pushed open the door of Everett’s Roadhouse and you sighed happily when the cool night air brushed against your heated, still slightly sticky cheeks. Gravel crunched beneath the soles of your sandals, and you blinked your eyes in the darkness until they focused enough to see Ari’s big, black truck looming in packed parking lot surrounded by other long-haul rigs.

“Drysdale’s gonna have a lot of business tonight after that show your girl put on,” Lloyd commented, casting his gaze across the expanse between Everett’s Roadhouse and Diesel Dolls, the strip club on the other side of the parking lot. Lloyd snorted and adjusted the front of his pants, and it was only then that you noticed the sizable bulge there. “Including me,” he muttered.

Your hazy thoughts strayed to the strip club, and you couldn’t help but imagine Lloyd getting a lap dance from a beautiful stripper. The tattoo artist sitting back on a plush couch while a gorgeous woman gyrated on his lap, his fingers twitching to grab her and touch her and defile her the way you knew Lloyd liked.

You didn’t even think to picture yourself as the stripper. Instead, in this little fantasy, you were sitting on Ari’s lap, your trucker’s cock buried in your cunt. Maybe he’d even let you get your own lap dance from Lloyd’s stripper, your body pressed between Ari’s and the other woman…

Your body lurched forward and if it wasn’t for Ari’s firm grip on your waist, you would’ve gone sprawling across the parking lot. For the rest of the walk to Ari’s rig, you tried to focus on putting one foot in front of the other and not let your mind wander so you wouldn’t end up feeling more sore than you already were. 

When the three of you came to a stop beside the driver’s side door of Ari’s truck, Lloyd let his eyes slide to you before moving quickly to your trucker. 

“I hope you had a similar gift in mind for my birthday, Levinson,” Lloyd said with his usual oily charm, his mouth curling into a smirk beneath his well-groomed mustache. 

“We’ll see,” Ari rumbled, but his tone was good-natured. You couldn’t help the way your body clenched at the salacious, and somewhat victorious smile Lloyd shot your way.

But the events of the night were weighing heavily on your shoulders, exhaustion creeping into your bones, and you didn’t have the brainpower to wonder what Lloyd might do with you if you were gifted to him on his birthday. Even if you knew you’d have just as much fun with Ari’s other friend as you’d had with Curtis.

“Daddy,” you whined softly, burying your face against Ari’s beefy chest. His hand squeezed your hip possessively and he said his goodbyes to Lloyd, then helped you into the truck, making sure he was the only one who could see the way your pussy flashed as you climbed into the cab.

Ari followed you up and locked the door behind him while you crawled into the cot in the back, laying down on top of his soft blankets despite the sticky residue still clinging to most of your body. Ari pulled off his t-shirt and kicked off his pants, then joined you in the narrow bed. 

Your body melted at the familiar comfort of his weight behind you, and you began to relax as sleep tugged at the edges of your awareness. But when Ari’s cock pressed hot and hard against your bare ass, you remembered his promise from inside the bar, how he said he was going to fuck you whether you were awake or not. You moaned softly while he bunched up the flannel shirt you still wore around your waist. 

Your face was already pressing into the soft pillow on Ari’s bed, your eyes closed, but you arched your back and pushed your ass against Ari’s hard length, inviting him to slide inside your slick cunt. You were sore from Curtis’s fucking, but wet again for your trucker. You were always wet for him, your body craving the feeling of his cock filling you up in the perfect way that only he could. 

“Ya gonna stay awake for me while I use your messy cunt, cock whore?” Ari rumbled into the back of your neck. The flat of his tongue swiped up the column of your throat, wringing a soft whine from you as he licked the beer from your skin. It felt so good, sending shivers down your spine and raising goosebumps all over your body. “Or did my friend wear you out?”

All you could manage was an unintelligible mumble, the sound muffled by the pillow crushed beneath your face, as sleep pushed more insistently into the border of your wakefulness. Ari’s deep chuckle rumbled against your spine, making you even wetter for your filthy, perfect trucker.

“Go to sleep, kiddo,” Ari murmured in your ear, his hand sliding over your hip to press against your lower belly, his fingertips grazing the tattoo that was branded into the skin of your mound, just above your pussy. His touch moved your body slightly, arching you enough for the head of his cock to find the slit of your cunt. “Let daddy use your tight little hole while you get some rest.” 

Ari slid inside your pussy slowly, pressing the air from your lungs as he took his time impaling you on his cock. Your aching inner walls clenched around him desperately, pain and pleasure flaring to life and zinging through your exhausted limbs. A rough, greedy grunt rumbled in Ari’s chest, the sound softening into a warm, satisfied groan once he was fully seated inside you.

It hurt a little to be stretched out around Ari’s cock so soon after taking Curtis’s pounding, but when your trucker wrapped his arms around you, holding you cocooned in the cage of his broad chest while he rocked his hips almost gently against your ass, you felt yourself melting into him. Ari’s lips and tongue worked against your neck, licking sticky beer from your skin, his beard deliciously familiar while he set an almost soothing pace as he fucked you.

Despite the soreness between your thighs, and the tiny zings of pleasure thrumming through your body from Ari’s cock rocking into you, your exhaustion was too great and it wasn’t long before you were slipping into the warm comfort of sleep. That night in Ari’s truck, you fell asleep with a blissed out, cock drunk smile on your face, happy as could be to be in your trucker’s arms.

You may have spent much of the night as a gift for the bar owner your trucker called a friend, and you were glad you could be part of making Curtis’s birthday special, but you would always belong to Ari. And you would always end your nights in his arms, because that was where you wanted to be and where you belonged—with your trucker, Ari Levinson.

trucker king masterlist ● trucker au masterlist

[evansbby]

𝐖𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐☆.｡.:*

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐈 - 𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: mean jock!Ari Levinson x naive!reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ari: Send daddy a pic, baby girl ;)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Careful, kitty kat.”

“Don’t call me that!”

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

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

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

 “No!”

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

“ ‘m not a baby!”

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

Oh, he was jealous!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He smirks, “Says your daddy.”

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

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

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

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

“Don’t want your attention!”

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

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

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

“No, I didn’t–!”

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

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

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

“You’re a man-whore, Ari.”

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

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

“Just so you wouldn’t feel bad.”

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

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

“Stop callin’ me a baby!”

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

“Oh, so you’re a big girl now, huh?”

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

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

You stick your chin up, “Yes, I am.”

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

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

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

“I… uh… I dunno, Ari…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wanna kiss you, daddy.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Better than Sharon?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y-Yeah, I am!”

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

“Ah – yes!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck me harder, daddy–OW!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let them watch, baby.”

As if on cue, you hear someone whistle:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ari, I’m so close, I–”

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

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

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

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We need to clean you up.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lemme feel you,” he persists.

“Nuh uh, too sensitive.”

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

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

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

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

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

A pause. And then he sighs.

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

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

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

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

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

“Her name is Wanda.”

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

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

“No–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You know it’s more than that, baby–”

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

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

“Y-You’re leaving?”

A pause.

“Yes.”

Another tear trickles down your cheek.

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

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

“I’m really drunk too.” And high.

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

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

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

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

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

How many more times till he broke you completely?

***

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

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

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

“Excuse me, sweetheart. Are you okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re welcome. What’s your name?”

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

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

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

“Who’s that, sweetheart?”

“My best friend.”

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

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

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

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

“Nope, I go to St. Jude’s.”

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

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

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

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

You frown, “What do you mean?”

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

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

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

Steve’s grip tightens, “Ari?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck off.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Or what, huh, Levinson?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Go to hell, asshole–”

“BABY, THERE YOU ARE!”

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

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

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

Sharon blinks, “What car?”

“My car.”

“What does it look like?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh no,” you whisper softly in dismay.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sweetheart?”

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There. Nice and warm now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sorry, Stevie. That was an accident.”

He smirks, “Stevie?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re not wearing any panties.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stevie, we shouldn’t–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re so pretty!” You blurt out.

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

“Wha–?”

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

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

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

SMACK.

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

Almost as if he’d been paid to do so…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I actually prepared some questions for yall just in case:

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

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

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

donate to my ko-fi!

[kqutie]

THE PRINCESS' SEVEN MERCENARIES —MINI SERIES [✿ ❄︎ ☁︎]

sum. : you're the missing princess living in a cottage with a group of undercover mercenaries

relationships : poly cevans characters/snow white reader ; mercenary steve rogers/snow white reader ; mercenary curtis everett/snow white reader ; mercenary jake jensen/snow white reader ; mercenary ransom drysdale/snow white reader ; mercenary ari levinson/snow white reader ; mercenary andy barber/snow white reader ; mercenary lloyd hansen/snow white reader

tags. : reader is a disney princess au ; mercenary cevans characters ; magic/fantasy au ; a/b/o dynamics (but not too significant) ; fluff ; disney au ; snow white and the seven dwarves inspired ; all of them go soft for reader ; a/b/o 'customs' (i made them my own hehe~) ; evil queen is evil ; eventual poly relationship

inspiration : there were several, the main being 'what was wrong with poisoning her seven men' by @imyourbratzdoll -- a beautiful, smutty snow white adaptation with a slew of delicious hunky men! i highly recommend giving it and the rest of her 'a whore's fairy tale' series a read ;) i'm not much of a smut writer but i am a hoe for cevans various characters x reader and fairy tale adaptations hehe~ so here's my little fluffy twist on the classic snow white fairy tale, i hope you darlings enjoy the read!

chapters :

i. a swift escape ii. a fateful meeting iii. a different morning iv. the liberal guard v. the smitten charmer vi. the foolish genius ⌊new⌉ vii. the lumbering repairman viii. the soft negotiator ix. the gentle executioner x. the lenient captain xi. a peaceful routine xii. the evil queen xiii. epilogue

taglist : @imyourbratzdoll @lovinglimerence @saturdayrj @baw1066 @whereismymindnow @urmomw4ntsme @oneandonlybbygrl

(i still can't believe i have a taglist for this passion project of a series with the first being my inspirational writer for the series (இ﹏இ`。) )

property of kqutie ; all written content is mine and no one else's unless stated otherwise ; do not steal, plagiarise, modify or translate to other sites

art/visual media does not belong to me

[ronearoundblindly]

For the every Cevans character, what is each one’s favorite position in bed? 😏😆

Fac-i-na-ting. I have categorized them into similar positions and then broken down the specifics or variations. No, I do not know the actual names of a lot of positions. I use the terms 'top' and 'bottom' but NOT in a BDSM way.

Sincerely, MINORS DNI. Warnings for very smutty descriptions of each of these characters 'in the act' and just...do I need to warn you about how much I was sweating during this???

'Top' Positions

Curtis Everett - Jimmy Dobyne - Steve Rogers - Ransom Drysdale - [Bucky Barnes]

Curtis is a cramped-quarters kind of lover, like you have been fucked up the bed until you and he are pressed against that headboard like a pretzel on a baking sheet. Gahdamn, he is intense. He threads an arm beneath you to make sure you're as close as possible. He grinds his pelvis into you, loving how his balls slap your ass. He likes it real sweaty, but he'll help you clean up in the shower, too. Dirty boi. 😮‍💨 We need him.

Jimmy and Ransom like you bent over but in different ways. Ransom just enjoys doggie-style. He feels awkward with too much eye contact and doesn't have to worry about that from behind. Jimmy is exceptionally good at spontaneously pressing you back or down onto a counter or the couch or perhaps a fence outside. 😳 He's oddly into fucking with at least some clothes on, but not because he doesn't like your body. He has a thing for choosing sex over chores or other obligations, so he and you are dressed for doing whatever else. It's just a little naughtier that way.

Steve is--I'm sure we can all agree--a missionary man. He looooves that eye contact Ran is so afraid of, but BUT! Steve's also a most considerate gentleman. He worries about putting too much of his weight on you, so his actual favorite position in pinning you against a wall (or mirror or window, etc) because he can lean into you without fear. He also enjoys that you get very, very excited for him to hold you up like that. You wrap around his neck and kiss him like it's your purpose in life. You get handsy, and that's about his favorite part...

[I know you said CE characters, nonnie, but Bucky just sneaks in, sorry!]

Ngl, Bucky took me the longest to figure out, and I'm not entirely sure he has a true 'favorite,' something he likes a good deal more than other positions. I have, however, landed on Bucky going braindead and gooey inside when he gets you in a mating press. There's, uh, a symbolism to wanting him and his cum inside you for as long as possible that hits all the right buttons to shut him down to the rest of the world for a while. He likes to sit back afterward and grip your knees to keep you right there until some drips out as you clench around nothing. You aren't empty though.

[Why. the fuck. does Bucky always get so 🥵 in these?]

'Bottom' Positions

Johnny Storm - Jake Jensen - Lloyd Hansen

Lloyd lets himself be lazy. He legitimately tucks his hands behind his head like he's at the beach and taunts you to work harder. He's so used to ordering people around and being quite active. Unless he has some aggression/frustration to work through, Lloyd needs to not be bothered with effort. It's your turn. Put your back into it.

Jake lets you control everything. Let's be fair: Jake is just happy to be here, ya know? He gets to be naked, he gets to see you naked, and he is going to come no matter what. Use him to your heart's content. Don't try telling him not to touch you (like an order or a deprivation game) because he can't stop himself. Every other order or request, he's game for, but on his back offers the best view of you--and technically, his glasses fog less 😬.

Johnny straight up loves when you ride him. He controls everything from below, though, because it's not actually about you taking over. He loves guiding your hips. He loves fucking up into you. He loves already being prone to fall asleep faster. [Go on, try to tell me I'm wrong. ::listens:: ::crickets:: Yeah, that's what I thought.] It's a win-win-win situation. All around cannot fail to please him. Johnny is definitely the type to assume that what feels good to him feels as good for his partner.

'Side' Positions

James Mace - Ari Levinson

Mace technically changes positions so much it maybe doesn't count as 'side,' but he's so playful, I'll allow it. His favorite sex, in general, is filled with natural ebbs and flows, quicker frantic times as well as soft doting and sweet, blissful enjoyment. A position that puts either him and you a hair's breath away from taking over is ideal. He wants to enjoy your company as much as your body. Mace can do both of those things in many, many different positions.

[Mace is quickly becoming a sleeper-fave of mine, my gawd. He's 😘🤌]

Finally, if Ari doesn't scream "wants to wake up fucking you," I don't know who does. He's spooning you, or coiled together with you someway, and just...ready when he sees you first thing in the morning--or in the middle of the night. Why bother moving much? He'll lift that leg up for you. He'll wrap around you to cup your breasts, play with your nipples, and rub your clit. Don't you worry 'bout a thing. Doesn't have to do with the position you're in, per se, but Ari also gruffly whispers other shit he'd like to do to you in your ear. It's vaguely easier to do that when your heads are on the same pillow, just saying.

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; 'Who Would..." Asks; Ko-Fi]

A/N: I successfully scheduled a post! Look at me, learning and shit...

[chxrryhansen]

𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐌𝐁 𝐀𝐔

Pairing; Multiple character club AU, each fic portrays different readers.

Summary; A series of tales staring your favourite Cevans babes, Location: Cherry Bomb.

𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐍

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐀𝐑𝐈 & 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘

From the day you stepped foot into Ari’s club you were his. Not only did he own half the city, but your body and soul alongside it. Will his dangerous aura drive you away… or pull you in closer than you could have ever imagined.

𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐘𝐃 & 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑

𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 & 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘

𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒 & 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐒

𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐘 & 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇

𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊 & 𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐒

𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐌 & 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋

dividers by~ @cafekitsune

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the murder at evergreen university

a/n: asdfghjkl I have been writing this since january...... wow. it's never taken me that long to write a story before... also I made a quick student bio about the majority of the people in this story, so if you wanna start off by looking at that, then here is the link ♡

summary:  just a slutty murder mystery

warnings: reader x various CEvans characters (Ransom Drysdale, Curtis Everett, Ari Levinson, Steve Rogers, Frank Adler, Jake Jensen, Lloyd Hansen), DARK content, noncon, smut, violence, university AU, murder mystery, detective!Ari, family friend!Ari, mma!Curtis (I just couldn't resist), surely extremely inaccurate on all levels (the college stuff, the investigation, everything, but this is just for fun so it's okay. lol I got the frat name from fantasynamegenerators.com hehe), polyamory, kissing, alcohol consumption, crying, drugging, murder, somno, daddy kink, dirty talk, choking, penetrative sex, size kink, vomiting, flashback sequences are written in all cursive

word count: 11.100

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | evergreen university masterlist

Walking up the steps of the Kappa Zeta Nu building, you pulled your humming ear pods out of your ears and popped them in the jacket pocket where your phone rested. If it hadn’t been for the big Greek letters above and its proximity to the college, the fraternity house could almost fool someone into thinking it was just any other regular suburban home. 

Giving the front door a rhythmic knock, it quickly swung open to reveal a scruffy-looking mathematics major, still groggy from sleep. 

“Morning Frank,” you couldn’t help but notice the spark in his eye that your presence generated. 

“Angel,” your nickname sounded so good on his sleepy lips, making you smile as he gave you a quick glance up and down, “how do you look like that this early in the morning?” 

Walking past him, further into the house, you chuckled, “8:30 is not that early.”

“Um, on a Saturday it is.” 

Thanks to the open floor plan, you quickly caught sight of Jake sitting by the kitchen island, scarfing down a bowl of cereal. 

“Hey!” the blonde smiled, mouth still full of his breakfast, “I’m guessing by the gorgeous look on your face that you made it through last night?”

“Yep,” you exhaled, thinking back on the major cram session you had to power through in order to meet the paper’s deadline. The lengthy assignment for your cognitive psychology class had been so extensive that it probably hadn’t been that smart of you to keep procrastinating it the way that you had, but somehow you got it done, “turned it in just in time.” 

“Atta girl,” the computer whiz reached over the counter to give you a high five, “I knew you could do it!”

“Speaking of yesterday,” yours and Jake’s fingers lingered a moment before parting ways, “how’s our boy doing? Did he make it through last night?”

Appearing behind you, still sweaty and panting from his morning run, Steve answered your question, evidently catching the tail end of the conversation just as he came in through the door, “Curtis is doing just fine,” he leaned against one of the counters, catching his breath, “better than fine actually, he won.” 

“He did?” a bright smile bloomed on your face, “man, I wish I could have been there…” you were usually so strict about being there for important things, such as Curtis’ occasional MMA fights, but because of your procrastinated schoolwork, you hadn’t been able to tag along. “It’s all Lloyd’s fault, you know. He did the whole oh yeah, we can have a little study date, get that paper done, no sweat, and then distracted me, leaving me with all of the work to get through yesterday.”  

“You wanna turn the faucets on down here, give his shower an icy turn as revenge?” Jake suggested, fiddling with his spoon playfully. 

“Nah, I’ll just give him the cold shoulder for a bit,” you settled your forearms against the countertop, unintentionally giving the guys a better view down your top, “he hates it when I ignore him.”

“He sure does,” Jakes drawled, nearly dropping his utensil into the milky bowl as he unabashedly stared down your cleavage. 

Biting your bottom lip a second, you returned to the matter at hand, “is he up yet?”

“Curtis?” Steve clarified, opening the fridge and plucking out a cold bottle of water. 

“Yeah.”

“Nope,” Frank shook his head behind you, “he’s still sleeping.”

Only pushing yourself halfway up, you asked “can I go see him?” slightly taking the others by surprise. 

“When have you even needed permission to go barge into his room?” Frank questioned.

“I don’t know…” you muttered, glancing down at the speckled pattern of the counter's surface, “maybe he’s got company or something…”

“Angel,” Steve leaned over the opposite side of the table, craning his neck so that he could catch your timid eyes, “he is not gonna go pick up some random girl just because you miss one of his fights.”

Bowing your head, you opted not to answer, instead just attempted to shake the doubt off you entirely. 

In a bouncy rocking motion, you straitened back up and moved towards the stairs, two of the guys tagging along as they too needed to head upstairs. 

“So,” you glanced over your shoulder at Frank and Steve, “how’s Ransom settling in?”

“The new guy?” Steve spoke, “fine, I think. I don’t know, I don’t speak trust fund kid, so how would I know.”

“I don’t think he’s that bad… Shouldn’t we at least try to include him in our little group? It just seems kinda mean not to since we’re so tight and you all live with him,” reaching the top of the stairs, you heard, from the bathroom directly in front of you, the trickling clues of Lloyd’s luxurious shower, and briefly glanced down at the far end of the hall where the new guy’s closed door was, his vast room mirroring Steve’s at the opposite side, though his was much more secluded from the rest, being closed in by the injection of both the broad staircase and the bathroom before the cluster of rooms came. “Like you said, you don’t know him yet, he might be super sweet and just takes a bit of time to warm up to people.”

“Maybe,” was all Frank cagily, not giving it any more thought. 

Coming to a stop in front of Curtis’ door, you slowly creaked it open, revealing the sleeping display of a bruised buzzcut, still lightly snoring on his back.

“Jesus christ,” you breathed and leaned your shoulder against the doorframe, taking in the beaten form of your friend, “you sure he won?” you asked the men still lingering a second longer, peeking over your shoulder into the room.

“Yeah, you don’t wanna see the other guy,” Frank gave your behind a quick tap before ducking into his own room. 

Turning your head to look at Steve, himself leisurely making his way down towards the room at the end of the hall, “you sure he’s fine?” 

Stopping in his step, he offered you an earnest glance, “he’s fine, Y/n. Go wake him up.”

After shutting the door behind you, you peeled off your jacket and let it drop down onto the desk chair you passed on your way towards the small mattress. Kicking off your shoes, you climbed the twin bed, kneeling beside your resting friend.

“Wake up,” you sang, dipping your smile down low to rouse Curtis. Receiving a less than lively reaction, only getting a soft inhale of breath as an indication that he’d woken, you tried again, swinging one of your legs over his form to straddle his hips, “hey, tough guy,” you felt his palms slide up the curve of your ass and come to rest around your waist, “you alive?”

Just barely fluttering his bruised eyelids open, a bright smile bloomed on his lips, “hi angel,” he sighed contently at your presence, blinking up at your softly illuminated form as the gentle morning light streamed in through his open window, the family of birds living in the tree just outside aiding in the gentle ambience. 

“A little birdy told me that you won last night,” you let your upper body sink down against his, resting your chin on top of your folded palms, right underneath his chin.

“I did,” you saw as the sting of his various injuries woke him up even further, “although I still would have preferred if my good luck charm had been there instead of doing boring homework.” 

“Oh, please don’t make me feel any worse,” you hid your face in his chest, “I already feel like I have too much making up to do.”

“Oh yeah?” he picked your head up for you to see the sly smirk now adorning his face, “what did you have in mind?”

“I don’t know,” you spoke shyly, feeling your cheeks flush as the position the two of you had found yourself in dawned on you, “I just really wanted to have been there,” and you sat back up, wary of where you placed your hands for support on his beaten frame. 

“Ah,” he waved a reassuring hand, “you’ll be at the next one.”

“Oh, I will,” you grinned promisingly, scooting down to the foot of the bed as you watched him sit up, the duvet falling off his body to relieve the rest of the colourful aftermath, “a simple assignment won’t be able to stop me,” your enthusiasm made him smile through the wince he let out as he got up off the mattress.

Tailing after Curtis as he moved out into the hall and made his way down towards the lavatory, you suggested as you followed him into the bathroom, “we should totally do something to celebrate your win! It’s the weekend, we should do something fun!”

Standing by one of the sinks, Lloyd, fresh out of the shower, didn’t take his eyes off his hair in the reflection as you sauntered in. As Curtis grabbed his toothbrush, he leaned down and whispered cheekily in your ear, “I know a way we can celebrate, just the two of us,” flashing you a glance that caused your breath to get caught in your throat. 

Cutting off your flustered giggle, Lloyd spoke, “there’s supposed to be a party tonight down on the other side of campus. Me and a few of the others were talking about going.” 

“Oh, the one Delta Phi is throwing? Nat’s going to that! Said something this morning about meeting the guy she’s been seeing there.”

“What-, guy?” Lloyd finally ripped his eyes away from the mirror, “what happened to that yoga chick?”

“I don’t know, I think she was moving a little bit too fast for Natasha’s speed,” you spoke of your commitment-phobe of a roommate. Saddling up beside the fighter now brushing his teeth, you said, “so, what do you say?” bumping your hip gently against his as you saw him look back at you in the mirror, “it could be fun.”

Pretending to ponder the proposal, Curtis answered, “if you put on a pretty little dress, then I might be convinced to go,” the foaming toothpaste lightly murmuring his flirting.

“…It’s always the innocent-looking ones you’ve gotta look out for,” Ransom spoke over the loud, bassy music to the moustachioed man next to him on the couch, “and this little charade you’ve all got going on must be a hell of a good time,” he elbowed him suggestively, though didn’t conjure the desired reaction from him, “oh, come on, you can tell me, dude. Just help a brother out with a few details.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Lloyd shrugged with a smirk and took a sip of his beer. 

“What do you mean?”

Huffing out a soft sigh, he answered, “she’s an amazing girl, don’t get me wrong, but she just has a few rules.”

“What, like some bdsm kinda rules?” Ransom’s eyebrows wiggled excitedly. 

“No, man,” he tried not to chuckle at the yearned-for images his inappropriate guess provoked, “back when we met her she-… her heart was fucking broken and there wasn’t a lot of stuff that she wanted to do anymore, that she felt comfortable with, but over time, I guess when she started getting over whomever that fucker was, she began to relax and let us in.”

“So, you’re really saying you haven’t hit that yet?” the prying man furrowed his brows, unmoved by the sob story. 

“None of us have.”

“Then are those stories about you banging her last week just rumours?”

“No, no, well not exactly, we did have fun, trust me,” he chuckled, poking his cheek playfully with his tongue, “but I didn’t exactly bang her.”

“So, let me get this right, you’re all mad for her and she hasn’t given out? To any of you? What, is she still a virgin or something? Waiting for marriage?”

“I don’t think so,” Llyod thought for a moment, “but it kinda wouldn’t surprise me either if she was… I don’t know… it’s kinda complicated, but damn if she isn’t worth it.”

Letting out a low exhale, he shook his head, “I don’t know how you stand it, dude. If she was mine, she wouldn’t be able to walk. Hell, how do you even share someone like her?” 

“Well, I don’t know if she’s mine per se, we all just have fun, you know? Why not share?”

“Hey,” your chipper voice interrupted their lewd convocation as you finally caught sight of them on the dark leather couch in the corner of the party, “there you are,” and immediately grabbed each of their hands in yours, “come on,” you leaned your weight back, ushering them to get up, “we’re doing shots in the kitchen!”

“Seriously, Barnes? Watch where you’re going!” Ransom exclaimed as the host of the party had rowdily bumped into the rich boy on his way through the narrow kitchen, causing the bright pink shot in his hand to spill all down the front of his white sweater, “this is cashmere, dude!” he yelled after Bucky’s quickly disappearing form, clearly not haven noticed the interaction himself over the deafening music and his drunken haze.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, noticing the huge stain now blooming on the man beside you, “are you okay?” the sharp alcohol still stung in your throat causing your words to come out ragged. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he stared down at himself, then over his shoulder in contemplation of whether or not he should run after the guy in pursuit of revenge, “this sweater however is not.”

As your eyes washed over the ivory knit, watching it soak up the colourful cocktail, you thought out loud as an idea struck you, “well, maybe…” and acted quickly, grabbing the man’s hand, “come with me,” you yanked him past the rest of your jovial friends and down the hallway towards the small bathroom.

Catching on to where your head was at, Ransom spoke after crossing the threshold, “Y/n, this is very sweet, but I don’t know if it will work.”

“Just shut up and take it off,” you held out your hand, too blind by your inebriated problem-solving instincts to consider any other outcome.

Gazing back at you a moment, he then chuckled and tugged the sweater over his head with one hand, your eyes widening as he placed the item in your waiting palm, it haven apparently been the only layer he had on.

“Thank you,” you breathed, dumbfounded for a second as you stared at his bare chest, briefly admiring his toned form before shaking it off and spinning around to turn on the sink. Holding the stained material against the slowly trickling cold water, you pressed and pinched the spot gently in an effort to not agitate the delicate fibres. “I swear, I’m always the worst at spilling stuff on myself, I’m like a child, plus the fact that I’m a knitter, so not to promise anything, but I’d say you’re in pretty good hands.”

He didn’t say anything, simply settled in beside you, leaning against the edge of the sink as he watched your face contort in adorable concentration. 

“Oh, dammit…” you gave up after a few minutes of gentle scrubbing. Turning the faucet off, you held the sweater up and looked at the, although lighter, still very much visible pink stain, “well at least it’s a little bit better than before,” you tried, flashing the half-naked man an apologetic look, “maybe if I soak it a bit it’ll get better, but-”

“Hey,” Ransom placed his fingers atop yours still clutching the wool, “it’s fine,” he lowered your hands as he leaned in and closed the gap between you two, his alcoholic breath fanning across your flush cheeks as he uttered a quiet, “thank you,” before unexpectedly pressing a greedy kiss against your lips. 

Feeling his grip tug the sweater out of your hands, you instinctively pressed your palms against his chest for support as the whole move had made your intoxicated body lose its balance. His lips were soft, but his kisses were hungry, determinedly letting it build far faster than you were ready for.

You let out a soft giggle of surprise as he suddenly scooped you up and planted you on the edge of the sink, nestling himself in between your parted thighs, your short dress haven ridden up from the movement.

“So, is this why they all call you angel?” he asked as his heated pecks fluttered down your neck, “because you swoop in and save the day?”

“I don’t know if I do that…” you breathed timidly, the reality of what he was doing just catching up to you now. 

“Oh, but you do. You saved mine,” he smirked, “you’re my hero,” you felt the tickle of his fingers as they snuck further up under your dress, “however can I repay you?” 

“I, um,” you giggled nervously, catching his wrists before they could get any further, pressing your lips against his in an effort to soften the blow as you thought of a gentle way to let him down, “I think that kiss by itself was a pretty good thank you,” you hopped down from the sink even though he made no effort in providing you room to do so.

Enclosing his arms around you as you giggly stumbled further towards the still-ajar door, he uttered, pressing the obvious tent in his pants up against your softness, “but why stop there? I can do a lot better than that if you just give me five more minutes,” but the door conveniently swung open a bit more just as two familiar figures passed it.

“Angel!” Jake, completely blind to the man still clawing at you to stay inside the bathroom, hooked an arm around your waist and yanked you along as he and Frank jovially strolled past, “there you are! It’s almost 11 o'clock, please don’t tell me that you’re bailing on Curtis and truly dooming him to lose to us.”

“I think Curtis would lose to you two in beer pong whether I am on his team or not,” you smiled, thankful of their timing, “you guys are the reigning champions after all.”

“Damn right,” Frank roared, excitedly lifting his fist, “J and F! F and J! Ain’t nothing this duo can’t accomplish.”

“Well, not everything,” you giggled, hooking your arms around their forms as they strolled on either side of you, their arms draped over you in return, “for instance, you’re both terrible cooks.”

“Shut up, angel,” Jake said playfully, “we’re unstoppable and you know it,” he stopped you in your tracks and trapped you against the wall, “say it,” he smirked down at you as Frank, not missing a beat, slipped in as well, enclosing you completely, “say that we’re unstoppable.”

Sucking in a sharp breath, you uttered, “you’re unstoppable,” the sudden proximity awakening memories that made your heart flutter. 

“Good girl,” he purred purposely, and a shiver ran down your spine as you recalled just how hot they both sounded cumming for you, a while back, when they had managed to talk you into playing with them both. 

“You guys are so mean,” you said light-heartedly. 

“Yeah,” Frank scrunched his nose through his warm smile, “but you like it.”

Twirling you around the dancefloor, Lloyd had been the only one in the mood to satisfy your surge of energy when you came pouting, begging the boys to dance with you. Holding you close, his hands roamed as you rocked to the music, causing you to close your eyes and drift away.

“Hey,” a different hand suddenly tapped you on the shoulder and tore you out of your dream, “I need to talk to you a sec.” 

Eyes fluttering open to look back at your redheaded roommate, you gave her a quick, “okay,” before raising yourself up onto your toes to speak into your dance partner’s ear, “hey, I’ll be right back!”

“Okay,” he shouted back over the loud music, “I’ll just go grab a drink, you want any?”

“Please,” you reluctantly let go of his hand and yelled after him as you followed your friend through the swarm of partying people, “a beer, thanks!” 

Rounding the corner to settle into a comparatively quieter nook, you tugged your wild hair behind your ears as you looked back at Natasha, “what’s up?”

Biting her lip, she spoke, “you love me, right?”

“Well, obviously, I’m about to get down on one knee and everything,” you joked, “what is it?”

“Can I have the room tonight?” she asked with a small winch, knowing damn well how frequent this request was. 

“Seriously?” your eyebrows shot up, “again?”

“Please?” she folded her hands dramatically in front of her and begged. 

Letting out a soft sigh, you said slowly, “if you buy me that super good chocolate with the blue wrapper that they sell down on the corner, then-”

“Oh my god,” she cut you off and threw her arms around you, “thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“You’re the worst roommate ever, you know that?” you smiled, patting her back. 

“And you are the best, a true saint! Me and my sex life pray at your altar.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you chuckled, playfully pushing her away, “go on then, get laid.”

Returning to find that Lloyd had settled in with the rest of the guys, taking up all of the clustered couches, you put on your best miserable expression as he handed you your beer, “guys,” you dramatically caught their attention, “I have some really devastating news to tell you…” faking the need to suck in a self-soothing breath before uttering, “tonight, on this very night, I am homeless!”

“Oh no!” they played along, giggling as you pressed the back of your hand up against your forehead. 

“I know! Whatever am I to do? If only some big, strong, handsome boys would let me crash at their frat…”

Clutching onto Curtis’ broad shoulders as he gave you a piggyback ride back to the frat, you all laughed at Jake and Frank’s terrible, lewd rendition of the school’s fight song. If Lloyd had been here, if his stamina hadn’t forced him to stay out and enjoy the night a little longer, he would have probably not only joined in, but led the tune, waking up everyone in the dorms you passed. 

“So,” Ransom smirked as you all tumbled in through the destinated front door, “who will have the pleasure of bunking with you tonight?”

“I, uh,” you giggled as Curtis sat you down, your shoes clutched in your hand, “I don’t know…”

“You can sleep in my room if you want,” Steve offered generously, “I’ll just sleep down here on the couch.”

“Really? Are you sure? Because I can just sleep down here on the couch, it’s fine.”

“No, no,” he waved a hand reassuringly, “you’ve had way more to drink tonight than I have, so you should really take the room closest to the bathroom, just in case.”

Smiling widely, you stumbled over and wrapped your arms around his bulky form, “thank you, Steve,” breathing in his scent as you smooshed your face into his t-shirt, “you’re the best.”

“You wanna borrow a shirt to sleep in?” Curtis asked, reaching out a quick arm to steady you as you lost your balance on your way towards the wide staircase.  

“Oh, yeah,” you offered him a fuzzy smile, both the alcohol and the hour causing your eyelids to feel like they weighed a ton, “that would be great.” 

Getting settled into the comparatively more private bedroom located next to the stairs, the bathroom too separating it from the rest of the doors clustered down the narrow hallway, you lazily changed into the t-shirt Curtis soon handed off to you, tugging it over your dress before sliding your party outfit off underneath the grey cotton, keeping yourself somewhat covered purely because you didn’t wanna end the conversation you and the rest of the boys were trying to wrap up.

“Alright, we should probably let the lady sleep,” Steve spoke, watching closely as every time you blinked, your eyes gradually stayed closed just a little longer, nearly falling asleep against Curtis’ broad shoulder.

“No, no,” you protested, inhaling sharply in an effort to wake up more, “I’m just resting my eyes…”

“Right,” Frank chuckled as they all got up from their comfy seat on the mattress, being too tired to fight it, Curtis gently helped you lay down, tugging the duvet over your curled-up form.

“Hey,” Ransom poked his head into the room as the rest began to filter out, “I thought you might like this,” you were surprised to see him have a small glass of water in his hand for you. Not simply placing it on the bedside table by your head, he kneeled down next to you and held it out, “here,” expecting for you to take it, “I swear, chugging a glass of water helps with the hangover,” sliding his free palm under your head to raise it up.

“Thank you,” you smiled wearily as you slowly accepted it and raised it up towards your lips. 

Noticing that you were only taking a small sip, his fingers found the bottom of the glass and pressed it up further, “all of it,” he tilted it for you to down it all, “or else it doesn’t work.” 

Coughing lightly as you lowed the now empty glass, it left an odd taste in your mouth, though you just summed it up to be the handiwork of some of the strong beverages you had consumed during the night working its way up again. 

“Thanks, Ransom,” you groggily patted his cheek, “you’re so sweet.” 

His eyes flickering over your tired face, smooshed against the pillow, he smirked, “goodnight,” got back up and strolled out past Curtis still lingering in the doorway, arms crossed and watching over you like a guard dog. 

“Night,” you quietly called out after him as you saw his frame disappear towards the furthest room down the hallway. Redirecting your attention back to your friend, you hummed, “go to bed, Curt. You gotta still be super sore from last night.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“Oh, so you’re just gonna stand there all night, fall asleep on your feet and act as my sleep paralysis demon for the night?” you joked with half-closed eyes. 

A small laugh bubbled out of him as he finally moved, “sleep well, angel,” he uncrossed his arms and reached out for the doorknob to tug it closed. 

“Goodnight, Curtis,” you snuggled further into the pillow as you felt sleep overtake you like a wave crashing the shore, adding absentmindedly under your breath, “love you.”

“Hmm…” you hazily blinked your heavy lids open, roused by the pinching pressure between your thighs. Looking up at the dimly lit figure, you mumbled fuzzily, “w-what?” unsure if this was real life or a dream as the whole bed spun beneath you and you felt like you were floating. 

“Shh, go back to sleep, angel,” Ransom’s grunt pierced your ears as his palm pressed over the bottom half of your face, silencing any words you might speak, “It’s alright, daddy’s got you,” a shy cry vibrated against his hand as you felt him rock against you, finally noticing fully the unexpected sensation of his thick girth stretching you out, “just be a good girl and lay right there, let me have a little slice of heaven.”

Keeping your exhausted legs spread wide apart, his determined hips acting as a door stop, he moaned quietly, “fuck, it really did do the trick,” he looked down at your dazed form, awake enough to be present for him, but unknowingly sedated enough for you not to fight back, “almost a shame you won’t be able to remember any of this in the morning,” he slid his hand down to squeeze your throat, pinching your rapid pulse and making the world even more blurry, “look at you, fucking out like a perfect little doll. You wanna be doll, huh? My own personal little fucktoy?”

Fighting to keep your eyes open, your whole body rocked at his movements as he frantically picked up his pace, selfishly pounding into you, melting on top of you and pressing your sedated body further into the bed. 

“You know, I barely needed to touch you a second before you soaked my fingers, you clearly want this as much as I do,” he tightened his grip on your throat, “you need this, you need me,” stifled moans flowed from his lips as he unmercifully pounded into you, scratching his own vile itch, “poor you, none of your boyfriends ever touch you properly. That’s just what you need, isn’t it?” he mocked as your fluttering cunt tried to squeeze him out, expelling him from your body, “you just need your tight little pussy to be stretched out? Just need some good dick? Don’t worry, angel,” you vaguely felt his tongue flicker against your slightly numbed skin, “as long as I am here to help, I’ll keep your pussy sore, keep it filled up,” you just managed to catch him growl before you lost the forlorn battle and your body dozed off again. 

Waking up with a low groan, you quickly sprung up, feeling the contents of your stomach fighting their way out. With no time to entertain the surprising presents of Curtis already curled up at the foot of the mattress, you bolted out of bed and ran out the door, thankful for the close proximity to the bathroom as you soon found yourself kneeling in front of the toilet, regretting every sip you had indulged in as they burned your entire chest on their way out again. 

Feeling as your loose hair suddenly got picked up and gently held back, you heard the warm rumble of Curtis’ voice as he said, “wow, okay, alright,” his large palm found your spine, soothingly caressing it as you hurled your guts out, “it’s alright, angel. Just get it all out.”

“Urgh,” you groaned, clutching the cold porcelain as you spat out the fowl tang, “I am never drinking again,” keeping your head over the bowl till you were sure you had gotten it all out. With a heavy sigh, you slumped back, colliding softly with the mass of your friend. 

“You okay?” he asked, lightly running his hands over your goosebump-ridden form. 

“I think so,” you blinked up into his steely eyes, the reddened look to them flying over your exhausted head, “at least I made it to the bathroom this time,” you tried to joke with a half-hearted smile. 

Letting your body weakly droop down, sighing in relief as you felt the cold tile hug your form, you heard Curtis notice, “no, no, you can’t fall asleep out here,” feeling his fingers already slide beneath your body. 

“But it’s so comfortable,” you let out a small winch as he scooped you up into his arms, your frame draping over his strong limbs, and a dull pain stung your core. “Hey, what date is it?” you suddenly asked, trying to make sense of the uncomfortable tingle.

“I-, uh, why?” he thought, carrying you back into Steve’s room, your eyes noticing the other doors down the dark hallway were all open wide, even though it was the middle of the night. 

“No reason, I just think I might be getting my period or something…”

“Miss Y/l/n?” a voice called, though you were a million miles away, “Miss Y/l/n?” 

“Huh?” you blinked, shaking your head slightly as you unsteadily glanced up at the figure, “sorry, yes,” you reluctantly let go of your friend’s hand and rose from the seat you had been waiting in. 

“You’re gonna be fine,” Curtis gave your hand one last squeeze, “I’ll wait right here for when you’re done, okay?” 

He and the other guys hadn’t let you out of their sight since the terrifying news had spread like wildfire yesterday morning and rocked the entire campus to its core. 

“Okay,” you nodded weakly, not truly present as you followed the stranger inside. 

Pulling out a chair at the cold table, you sat down and averted your gaze from the walls of the bare conference room provided by the school for the law enforcements to use for their investigation. 

“The detective will be right in, you just sit tight,” the figure spoke before they closed the door behind them, leaving you alone in the makeshift interrogation room. 

You didn’t know how long you were in there, maybe a minute, maybe ten, but soon you heard the door creak open once more and a voice, long forgotten, found your ears, “hello, I’m detective Levinson, I will be conducting this-”

“Ari?” you blinked up at your elder childhood friend in amazement, the nauseating feeling of grief momentarily washing away at his unexpected presence as he sat down opposite to you, “what are you doing here?” your eyes drifted over his informal suit, the jacket missing and the sleeves sloppily rolled up passed his burly forearms, “and when did you stop being a beat cop?” 

“Uh,” he blinked, a solemn expression washing over his stern face, softening it significantly, “around a year ago,” he then sighed deeply and said, “I really hoped there had just been another Y/n Y/l/n here at this school…”

Effectively bringing you back down to earth, “oh, yeah… will this be a problem? Can you not do this if you already know me?”

“No, no, it’s not that. I just-,” his head tilted gently to the side, “this isn’t something I ever wanted you to go through.” 

Sucking in a sharp breath, you nodded shyly, “yeah, well, I am.”

Looking over you a moment, taking in the small changes you had adapted in the years since you had last seen each other, he offered a genuine, “I’m sorry,” and attempted to catch your weary gaze. 

“It’s not your fault,” you glanced down at your hands as your fingers once again began to dig nervously into your skin, leaving angry little half-crescent marks in its wake, “you’re not the one running around murdering students,” you awkwardly attempted to joke.  

Exhaling lowly, he then opened the file in front of him and laid out a small tape recorder in the middle of the table, “are you ready to begin?” 

“Yeah.”

Pressing on one of the side buttons on the recorder, Ari then announced methodically, “can you please state your name for the record?” 

“Y/n Y/l/n.” 

“And for the record, are you speaking to me voluntarily?”

“I am.”

Glancing over the open folder sprawled out in front of him, he asked, “what was your relationship with the victim?” 

“Ransom, he-, um… he was a friend. I honestly didn’t really know him for too long, but he lived with some of my best friends, so it just seemed pretty natural for him to also become a part of our little group, if you’d call it that.” 

“And you last saw Mr Drysdale when?” 

“At the party Saturday night. I crashed at their flat after that, so it was probably early Sunday morning that I saw him last, when he was on his way to bed, I think.” 

“Did anything happen to him that night? Anything unusual? His behaviour? Someone he interacted with? Anything you can think of that stands out?” 

“Uhm,” you thought back, remembering the heated kiss you had shared in the bathroom, though looking back into Ari’s studying eyes, you couldn’t help but lie and say, “no, I don’t think so. It was just a party, you know,” the thought of telling your childhood crush that you drunkenly made out with a guy sent your stomach turning, crushing the truth before it could crawl out. 

“Alright,” he nodded, “well, if you do remember anything, please reach out, we’re running the bulk of the investigation from here, so you know where I’ll be.”

“Still have your number,” you forced an awkward laugh.

“Right,” he sucked in a breath and averted his piercing gaze, “so, uhm, I don’t think I have anything else to ask you right now. Thank you for your cooperation with the investigation.”

“Of course,” you watched as his fingers wrap around the tape recorder, clicking the protruding button and making it stop, “it-, um,” you felt a shiver run down your spine as his eyes fell upon you once more, making the polite words seem that much harder to muster, “it really is good to see you again. Nice to see that you’re doing good,” then added jokingly, “that your mom still hasn’t talked you into cutting your hair,” a sincere smile tickled your lips at the mention of the warm woman living next door to your own parents. 

Even though it was clearly forced, your words still conjured a genuine reaction from the guy who used to babysit you, “yeah, no, you know she’s never winning that battle,” he chuckled, shaking his head lightly, “it’s, uh, it’s great to see you as well. You-, um… yeah…” he dropped whatever compliment was on the tip of his tongue and averted his gaze, “I don’t wanna keep you any longer, you can go, you probably have classes to get to.”  

“I actually don’t,” you informed him, though still slowly got up from your seat, “our professors have given us all some time off to-, uh, you know…”

“Yeah…” he nodded understandingly, his vision following your form as you made your way towards the door. 

Pausing just before your fingertips grazed the doorknob, you looked back, timidly chewing on your bottom lip, “hey, Ari?” 

“Yes?” he responded quickly, clearly still completely captivated. 

Finding it difficult to even breathe properly in his presence, especially when those soulful eyes were locked upon yours, you found that your words crumbled before they even got to see the light of day, “I-, um…” then hastily scrambled your brain for a makeshift, “good luck.”

Breathing out a soft smile as he watched you nervously fiddle with the door handle, he said, “thanks, Y/n.” 

It had been Monday morning that a garbage man had found Ransom’s body in a dumpster on the far side of campus. Even though they had tried to contain the news, it still spread like a wildfire, and come lunch that day, it was the only thing any student could talk about. 

The frat quickly got sealed off as an active crime scene as it had been the last place witnesses had seen him alive, forcing the rest of the guys to temporarily bunk up with friends in their dorms. You felt a bit ashamed about the immense relief you felt at that small detail, the comfort of having each one of them fight over who got to stay with you being something you welcomed with open arms. In the end, it was both Curtis and Steve who stayed with you, Natasha giving you the room and staying with her newfound beau in the meantime, giving you the entire space for a while.  

The guys had always been protective of you, but it almost seemed to have grown over the past few gloomy days. Not a second passed by where at least one of them wasn’t at your side, holding you as you cried, walking with you through the crowded campus or just keeping you company, making sure you weren’t alone. You just added it up to be their version of freaking out and buying into the whole conspiracy that it hadn’t been a drug deal gone wrong as so many had assumed of the recently deceased playboy with a penchant for illicit substances, but actually someone on campus, a stone-cold killer masking as just the person next to you in your lit class. 

“Why don’t you go ask him?” 

“Me?” your brows furrowed in Lloyd’s direction, “why me? If you wanna know so bad, why don’t you just go ask him yourself?”

Chiming in, Jake tilted his head, “well, you did say you know the guy.” 

Exhaling lowly, you averted your gaze, your crossed arms tightening over your chest, “yeah, you could certainly say that…”

“So just go, bat your eyelashes at him for a bit and figure out how much he knows,” Lloyd tried to persuade you, though even his ever-present cocky charm couldn’t sway you this time.

Previously assuming that the whole conversation had just gone over Curtis’ head, as he had just quickly sat beside you and stared out the window, he suddenly perked up, “we just-…” he struggled to vocalise, “if it really is someone here on campus… just the thought you sitting in class with them or-, fuck, anything, it just-…” like a magnet, your fingers naturally found his own in a comforting squeeze, “angel, we just wanna keep you safe and the thought of someone like that running around terrorising the school-… just please go figure out if he has a suspect yet. See if he has got any leads.”

From the moment you had said goodbye to the familiar detective, shame about not telling him the whole truth had nearly eaten you alive. You had lied to not only a person you had known your whole life, but also a law enforcer. It was insufferable, like a snowball rolling down a hill and growing bigger and bigger with each accumulated snowflake. 

“Fine,” you cracked, the shameful storm inside your body becoming too much to bear, “I’ll do it.”

“Knock, knock,” you said with a small smile as you pushed the ajar door open completely. 

“Y/n,” Ari’s spine straightened in surprise, his eyes no longer glued to the computer screen before him, “what are you doing here?”

“Thought you might be hungry,” you held up your alibi for coming in the form of a takeout bag, “it’s from this little Indian place downtown,” you shut the door behind you before plopping the crinkly bag down on the table, the warm light from the desk lamp illuminating the brimming containers of curry stacked inside, “you like Indian, right?”

“I-, I do,” he said, still taken aback by the kind gesture, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Thought it was the least I could do as a thanks for what you’re doing,” you waved a hand in the direction of the cluttered corkboard on the wall. 

“It’s just my job, you don’t need to thank me,” he said modestly, leaning back in his chair and lending you to spot the silver pen his fingers fiddled with. 

Lowering your gaze to stare at your shoes, you exhaled, “right…”

“So, um,” he filled out the awkward silence, “was there anything else you needed?”

“Oh, sorry,” you mumbled, keeping your eyes averted, “you’re obviously super busy and here I am just barging in,” your vision finally flickered up to lock with his, already steadfast on you, “I just, uh…” your breaths became more jagged as his sky-like eyes captivated your own, “there was actually something else I wanted to talk to you about, something I wanted to tell you.”

“Alright…” he nodded, listening intently. 

Blowing out a shaky breath, you revealed, “I lied, something did happen that night.”

“Okay,” his brows furrowed, though not as much as you had feared, “what was it?” your anxious brain haven already thought of a million different dramatic punishments he could penalise you with.

“I, uh…” you squeezed your eyes shut nervously, “I kissed him,” your pained voice rushed to force out, “at that party. It was in the bathroom and almost became something else, but, um yeah… we kissed… me and Ransom…” you peaked just one of your eyes open, your tense shoulders nearly pressing against your ears at this point, “I’m really sorry, I just felt like couldn’t tell you something like that, not you. I won’t be arrested for hiding this information, will I?”

“No, no,” Ari quickly rose from his seat, “Y/n, you’re okay,” he stepped closer to you as he attempted to calm your uncalled-for panic, “you won’t be arrested.”

“Oh,” you breathed, “good,” feeling your shoulders begin to drop back down again, “you know how my mind tends to freak out.”

“Yeah,” he nodded softly, “I do…” his words genuine as memories conjured the whisper of a smile to appear upon his lips, “thank you for telling me.”

Awkwardly, you flashed him a tight-lipped smile, grateful that uncomfortable moment had passed, you recalled the other reason for why you had come, “so…”

“So…” he echoed.

“Do you have any leads, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“That’s classified information, you know I can’t tell you that.”

“I know…” you averted your gaze and scrabbled your brain for what you could do or say to get him to tell you, “it’s just, I’m so scared all the time. The school was always a place that made me feel safe, till now…” although your intentions behind those words weren’t completely truthful, the statement wasn’t that far off, ���it was just worth a try asking you.”

Holding your gaze, you could almost see his heartstrings get tugged as his brows quivered in compassion, “I-… I do have something. If you didn’t know, we just finished sweeping the victim’s living quarters, so if they haven’t already been notified, your friends should be able to move back in by tomorrow, but we also found something, not there, but in proximity to the dump site, there was a knife with traces of the victim’s blood on it. It’s in the lab right now as we speak, trying to decipher if there are any identifiable prints on it.” 

“Oh my god…” you felt goosebumps sting at every inch of your skin. 

“You haven’t heard any details about what state his body was found in, have you?” 

“No…” both from avoiding the papers and keeping to your dorm, you might be the only student on campus not aware of how your late friend had died, “he was stabbed?”

“That was decisively what killed him, yeah, but he was brutally beaten before that.”

“Holy shit, that’s-…” you shuttered, your eyes just now noticing the nauseating photos pinned on the board beside you, “fuck… I don’t know how you do this all day, deal with these kinds of things.” 

“It gets easier over time,” he shared, his worried eyes scanning your face a moment before apprehensively uttering, “this might be a really stupid question, but how are you holding up?”

“I-…” you toyed with the thought of lying to him yet again, but then opted to share the truth, “I am not doing so good, to be honest. I could probably count the number of hours I’ve slept in the last few days on one hand, or so I’ve been told. I don’t think it feels like I’ve slept at all, but apparently I have, just a little bit.”

Sucking in a pained breath, he murmured, “I’m sorry. I can help find someone you can talk to, if you want.”

“No, it’s alright,” his kind offer made it easier for you to look away from the horror plastered all over the office walls, “I mean, I’m not alone, that fact has become crystal clear throughout all of this.”

“Yeah, I kinda pieced that together,” he spoke in a much different manner than before, causing your brows to crinkle, “I conducted all the other interviews. It’s nice that you’ve made friends, making the most out of your college experience,” he said in a tone, almost reminiscent of jealousy.  

Averting your eyes, memories you so desperately tried to keep at bay pried their way in and snuffed out the fuming flicker his resentment had ignited, “hey Ari?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you know?” you asked wearily. 

“Know what?”

“Did you know all of those years, growing up together?” you lifted your vision once more as he offered you a questioning hum, “did you know that I was in love with you?”

Taken aback, it took a bit before he managed to answer, “no, I didn’t.”

“Why didn’t you ever call me? You just left.” 

“I was getting married, Y/n. What was I supposed to do?” 

“Not fuck the girl you used to babysit,” you shot back coldly, “what even was I to you?”

“I-… I don’t know,” his frustrated words came out breathy, “do you think I planned for any of that to have happened? To sleep with you of all people? I didn’t. But when I came home that summer and saw you again, saw who you had become, I don’t know, everything just changed, you changed. I fully thought that you’d to still be that same little annoying brat you used to be, but you really weren’t. I didn’t expect it to happen, I didn’t expect you to suddenly do something like that to me, have that kind of power over me!”

“So, you just decided to break my heart instead? I was mad for you, for as long as I could remember. That summer was the happiest I’d ever been and then you just up and left in the middle of the night without a word. Did you even think to imagine what it was like for me to run around that morning looking for you and instead finding an invitation for your wedding? I had to hear from your fucking parents that you had just come home to prepare things before the big day. You hadn’t even mentioned to me once that you were engaged, or even as much as just in a relationship. Was any of it even real to you or was I just your last bit of fun before you got tied down?”

“It was, Y/n,” he insisted sincerely, “it was the realest thing I’ve ever felt.”

“Then why did you go without as much as a goodbye? You know how much that broke me?”

“Yeah, well you seem to be doing just fine now,” he said pettily. 

“Excuse me? You don’t get to say something like that to me. You were the one who broke my heart, you don’t get to judge how I glued it back together. Just go back home to your wife, why don’t you.”

Suddenly looking back at you in confusion, Ari then illuminated carefully, “Y/n, I’m not married.”

“What?” you blinked. 

“I mean, I know you weren’t there that day, but I thought my mom at least had told you,” the gears turning inside of him were nearly visible to the naked eye, “I couldn’t go through with it.”

“What? Why?”

Biting his tongue as he held your eye, he then exhaled, “because I didn’t think I should get married if I was in love with someone else.”

Sucking in a stunned breath, you saw tears cloud your vision, “b-but… you never even called…”

“I know I didn’t,” he concurred heavily, his eyes unable to look away from your glossy ones. Feeling as if you might faint, you saw his woeful vision flicker down towards your lips, “I’m sorry, Y/n.” 

But just as you saw him slowly inch his face closer and closer to yours, a sharp intake of air stung your lungs as you raised a hand up as a barricade, “I can’t…” too scared of history repeating itself, “we can’t…”

Sighing deeply, his eyes traced the tear that rolled down your cheek, “I know…”

You had just been helping the guys move back into the frat. That was all you had been doing. One moment you were all laughing, actually having a normal and pleasant moment for once, and the next, two officers were barging down the door and reading Lloyd his rights. 

You’d nearly lost it completely and Curtis had to hold you back so that you didn’t go scratch one of the officer’s eyes out. The man in the cuffs however took it with style, only trying to break through your hazy to let you know that he would be fine and for the others to take care of you, after all, this wasn’t his first rodeo down to the station, although those times it had only been for petty crimes like bar room brawls and such. 

“But I mean, how did it even happen?” you thought out loud a while later, the miranda rights still ringing in your ears like a triggering song you just couldn’t get out of your head, “that’s what my mind keeps going back to,” you had finally calmed down after what felt like forever of the guys talking out of marching down to the station to do something, anything to get Lloyd out. Completely powerless, you sat curled up at the end of the couch as words flowed from your exhausted lips, “how could someone like him be killed? He was such a nice guy.” 

Not being able to stand it any longer, Curtis pipped up from the armchair on the other side of the living room, “no, he really wasn’t,” your bolstering words about the deceased being too much for him to take without cracking, “he was a rich creep and everyone knew it,” frustratingly, he gesticulated, “with everything that he did to you, how can you just sit there and say that he was a nice person? The guy drugged you and violated you in your sleep for fuck sake!” 

The room went dead quiet as soon as those words left his lips. 

“…what are you talking about?” your voice no higher than a whisper as you watched your burly friend shrink in regret. “Curtis,” you repeated more sternly this time as he didn’t offer an explanation, “what do you mean? What did you do?” your voice broke as thoughts about if Lloyd’s arrest hadn’t been a misunderstanding after all entered your mind. 

“You can’t tell her,” Frank shot a glare at the fighter, “we had a deal.” 

“Yeah, well that was before Lloyd got fucking arrested!” Jake chimed in, panic shining clear through in his tone, “she’s a part of this, has been since the very beginning. She has a right to know.” 

Finding your wide eyes in the crowd, Curtis asked you wearily, “you really wanna know what happened that night?” hugging your knees tighter to your chest, you gave him a small nod in confirmation, “fine, I’ll tell you.”

…

“Is she okay?” Curtis pushed the ajar door open further to ask, haven, on his way to the bathroom,  caught sight of an out of breath Ransom tugging the covers back over your passed out form. 

The head of the cashmere-clad man snapped up at the sign of company, the sudden alarm that began to bloom on his features was quickly drowned out by his usual arrogant air, “yeah, man,” he shot back defensively, rushing to get out of the room, “she’s fine,” sounding like it had been a completely crazy question to ask. 

Furrowed brow staying put, Curtis uttered slowly, “alright, but I think I’m just gonna check myself, if you don’t mind.”

“I said she’s fine!” Ransom slammed the door shut behind him, prohibiting the man now only inches from him from entering, “just go back to your own room!”

Worry and suspicion only growing at the obvious fibs, Curtis demanded, “what were you doing in there? What did you do?”

“What are you talking about?” he scoffed back. 

“What did you do to her?” Curtis took a looming step closer just as their raised voices began to stir some of the other slumbering residents.

“I didn’t do a thing,” he cockily dared a chuckle, “calm down.”

“I will not fucking calm down,” Curtis barked back before attempting to call to you through the closed door, “angel, you okay?”

Leaning against the wall beside his own room, Jake rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he groaned, “guys, can you not yell in the middle of the night? Some of us are kinda trying to sleep here.”

Frank, as well haven appeared, seemed a little more alert at the sudden commotion in the hallway, “hey, what’s going on?”

“Nothing’s going on,” their suspicious friend waved a hand, “Curtis is just being a little bitch and freaking out for no reason,” the ostentatious gesture granted the opposing man an opportunity to slip past and enter the room.

Nearly kicking the door down, Curtis rushed to your side, examining your unconscious form with worried eyes, “angel?” the dim lights streaming in from the hallway just barely letting him notice how wrinkled and haphazard the t-shirt he’d lent you just a few hours before was on you. 

“Jesus, just let her sleep, dude.”

Ignoring Ransom’s words of warning, Curtis tried once more, “Y/n?” touching your skin lightly before giving you a gentle shake, “come on, wake up for me, baby,” his heart nearly beat out of his chest as he unsuccessfully tried to stir you, the shallow rise and fall of your abdomen not granting him as much comfort as it should have. 

Nearing the end of the hall, Frank asked once more, “what’s going on?” side-eyeing Ransom warily, “is she okay?”

“Of course she’s okay,” the trust fund kid scoffed.

“The fuck she is,” Curtis’ head whipped back in the direction of Ransom’s silhouette in the doorway. Getting back up on his feet, his sharp intakes of air causing his shoulders to rise, he stormed back out and demanded, “what did you do? Why were you in here and why the fuck is she not waking up?”

“Did you not see how much she had to drink tonight?” Ransom defensively gestured to your passed-out form on the narrow bed, “I was just checking up on her,” and with a heavy sigh abandoned the argument entirely and descended the stairs. 

Catching Curtis’ arm just in time to stop him from storming down after the man at the centre of the quarrel, Frank tried to catch the darting eyes of his friend as he asked firmly, “Curtis, what’s going on?”

“I saw him in there, hovering above her like a creep.”

Already worried eyes suddenly growing in alarm, “he was in there?” Frank quickly shared a panicked look with Jake, both now sharing the same inkling of what horrible thing had occurred, “alone with her?”

“Yes.”

“Wait,” Frank gasped, “did you say she’s not waking up? She is still breathing though, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, she’s just out cold. Why?”

“Oh my god…” Jake shuttered, his interrupted slumber now long forgotten.

“What? What is it? What aren’t you guys telling me?”

Exhaling lowly, Frank carefully began to explain, “Curtis, you know that my sister goes to Bayshore, right?”

“Um, sure, yeah?” unsure as to why that fact was significant.

“Well, she told me about this student who overdosed after being drugged and raped. The guy was apparently caught and everything but just came from a wealthy enough family to not only never be convicted, but also keep the news out of the papers. Curtis, that’s where Ransom transferred from.”

Seeing nothing but red, Curtis stormed down the stairs. On his determined path to the kitchen where the object for his bubbling rage now stood, leisurely sipping from a glass of water. Curtis narrowly caught sight of Lloyd as he finally stumbled through the entrance from his drawn-out merriment, uttering a hushed apology to the bulky frame of Steve on the couch for the way he had carelessly slammed the front door shut behind him.

Only rolling his eyes at the sight of Curtis, Ransom didn’t even lower his glass as the fuming figure neared, “dude, I already told you, I didn’t do a thing-” though the rest of his provoking words got squashed as Curtis’ fist suddenly collided with his jaw, swiftly grabbing onto his soft sweater before he could crumble like the shattered glass now scattered across the cool tile, “what the fuck!”  water splashing onto both of their feet. 

“What did you give her?” Curtis barked, his fingers digging into the intricate, stained knit so hard that they threatened to poke through to the other side. 

“Give who what?” appalled glare piercing as he fought against the hold. 

“Y/n!” he shook him heatedly, “what did you give her?”

“I didn’t give her shit, man,” Ransom just managed to spit out before white knuckles collided with his face once more. 

“Did you touch her? Because I swear to fuck, if you laid even as much as one finger on her, I’m gonna-”

“Oh, I see,” he actually dared to chuckle, a bit of crimson already staining the pearly whites he flashed, “you’re jealous that you didn’t get with her tonight.”

Landing another raging blow, Curtis yanked him in close and growled, “you shut up and answer my question! Did you touch her?”

Scoffing through his laboured groans of agony, Ransom finally disclosed smugly, “of course, I did, man. She’s been all over me all night long, begging for me to give it to her good.”

The rest of the frat haven now clustered in the kitchen as well, staying in the periphery, Frank accused, “what did you give her? Was it the same as the girl you killed back at Bayshore?”

The deep-pocketed man’s eyes flickered over Curtis’ shoulder, bruises blooming and swelling up his vision, “excuse me?” 

“The rape victim that overdosed at your old school?” the bridge of Frank’s nose twitched in fury, “it was you that killed her, wasn’t it?”

“I didn’t do anything of the sort, all I did was show those girls a good time, it’s not my fault some can’t keep up.”

“Is that what you think happened tonight?” Curtis hauled him against the fridge, gaining the man’s attention once more, “you call assaulting Y/n a good fucking time?”

Keeping his head held high, Ransom slurred, “what are you ashamed you’re not man enough to rough your girl up a bit and give her what she really likes?”

Huffing like a bull, he uttered, “she does not like it like that.”

“Oh yeah? Then tell me why I had her moaning the way I did, dripping down on ol’ Steve’s bed like a cheap whore. Kind of a shame that she won’t remember any of it in the morning, just hope I fucked her good enough that at least some part of her won’t forget…”

…

“Oh my god…” you shuttered, unable to look any of them in the eye, “oh my god,” your palm shot up to clasp over your lips to choke the shaky cry that forced its way out, “I thought-…” vision darting everywhere and nowhere at the same time, “I thought it had been a dream,” tears streamed down your ghostly face as the hazy nightmare suddenly came into focus, “oh my god! I-… I knew him,” you jaggedly tried to piece it all together as vile stung in the back of your throat, “he was-, he was my friend. I hadn’t known him that long, but he was my friend. I-… he wasn’t just some dangerous stranger in the back of an ally threatening to kill me, he was my friend.”

…

The incoherent screams of Curtis slowly subsisted as his rampant blows finally slowed down. Slowly backing up, chest heaving, horror took over his eyes as he saw how far he had been pushed, watching as blood bubbled out of Ransom’s mouth, guggling his words.

“Just you fucking wait till my family finds out,” he weakly continued his threats from his wrecked position on the tiled floor, “do you have any idea how much power money gives you? I can squash you all like little bugs, ruin any chance you might have of a pathetic future and keep angel all to myself.”

Unable to look away, Steve suddenly uttered as Curtis shakily retreated into the shadows, “…guys, we have to call an ambulance.”

Whipping his head around, Jake protested, “no, don’t!” ready to swat away any phone that might be raised, “he’s right. He has the upper hand no matter if we get him to a hospital or not.”

“So, what do we do? Look at him,” Steve woefully gestured to the beaten playboy crumbled on the floor, “he’s dying. We can’t just leave him here!”

“No…” Lloyd sighed, his demeanour seeming surprisingly calm and level-headed under the circumstance, “but we can use what little time we have left before the sun comes up to our advantage…” 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Frank’s brows furrowed frightfully. 

In a wide arc around Ransom’s broken form, Lloyd made his way over to one of the kitchen counters and pulled open a drawer, “he said it himself,” he exhaled lowly as he accepted his fate, “he is more than capable of making not only angel’s life hell, but also all of ours,” his tone cold, he riffled through the utensils, “from where I’m standing, there’s only one way for us to get out of this with minimal casualties,” and fished out a knife, the steel reflecting in the low light seeping in through the other room. 

“You can’t be fucking serious,” Steve gasped, “we’re not murdering him!” 

“So you’d rather try and explain his corpse just lying here in our kitchen? This way we get the upper hand, we speed up the process and use the remainder of the night to our advantage till the rest of campus wakes up, hide him somewhere else, somewhere he won’t be found,” Lloyd stressed, “we have to kill him, it’s the only way.” 

“Shit dude…” Frank breathed, he and the rest realizing that he was right, “where would we even hide him?”

After only pondering it a second, Jake pipped up, “it’s trash day tomorrow,” tensely sharing glances with the rest, “if we get him to one of the big dumpsters on the other side of campus, drop him in there, no one will know! And even if they do eventually discover parts of him out on some dump, they won’t be able to get anything off of him anyways at that point.” 

“I-…” Curtis’ shaky voice finally filled the room, guilt seeping through in his brassy timbre as he asked what no one else would, “…who’s gonna do it?” 

Not letting the others even consider that weight, Lloyd swiftly declared, “I’ll do it.”

“What?” the trembling fighter’s eyes finally lifted.

“If they actually do somehow manage to nail us for this, it should be me that goes down for it,” he stated deliberately, “always knew I’d go to prison at some point just like my old man, this way it wouldn’t be for anything stupid.” 

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[holylulusworld]

The assistant (10) - Apologies

Summary: You are invisible most of the time.

Pairing: Former!Boss!Steve Rogers x Former!Assistant(plussized)!Reader

Possible pairing: Jake Jensen x Reader, Lloyd Hansen x Reader, Curtis Everett x Reader, Ari Levinson x Reader, Andy Barber x Reader, Mike Weiss x Reader, Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Warnings: angst, flirty CEvans characters, language, plus-sized/chubby reader, protective brothers, Lloyd being Lloyd, arguments, fighting, violence, brothers being brothers, choking (non-sexual), injuries

A/N: We are back to business and bam, did I just add another brother? Yes. No. Maybe.

The assistant masterlist

The assistant (9) - Revenge for champions

Lloyd reluctantly opens the gate for Steve. He eyes the captain warily, and huffs. “Captain Asshole.” He grunts.

“Kidnapper,” Steve bites back. Like promised, he came in civilian clothes, and without his shield. He’s carrying a duffle bag while surveilling the property on his way toward the mansion.

“I see Captain Asshat came,” Ari sneers at Steve. He looks the captain up and down, wondering what everything sees in the blonde.

“Play nice, Ari,” Andy warns. He doesn’t like having Steve on their property either, but this way, the brothers have control over the situation. And he made a few calls. Things will go according to his plan, not Steve’s. “No killing Captain America.”

Lloyd snorts. “Speak for yourself, not me. If he only breathes wrong, he’ll bite a bullet.”

“Ah, we already reached the status of threatening,” Curtis steps out of the mansion, his muscular arms crossed over his chest. “Jake checks on the cameras, and Mike is doing Pilates or crap with Y/N.”

“If he touched her,” Steve wants to jump at Curtis. “I’ll break his neck.”

“Whoa…whoa,” Lloyd points his index finger at Steve. “If anyone breaks our little chaos’s neck, it’s me. He’s my brother, not yours.”

Andy coughs and looks away. He doesn’t know how to tell his brothers whom he called to join forces with them. If they must fight Captain America and the Avengers, they’ll need every help they can get.

“So, uh—” he loosens his tie. “We should talk about something before we let him inside. I made a few calls and asked for a favor.”

“You asked for a favor?” Curtis turns his head to look at his brother. “Andy, what did you do? I hope you don’t try to bullshit us with your lawyer crap again.”

“I wish it was only about lawyer crap…” Andy looks at the still-open gate. He huffs and removes his tie. “I called someone to join us today.”

“Another guest?” Lloyd rolls his eyes. “Andy, we’ve got our hands full with Captain Turd over there. I don’t have the nerves to handle our little chaos, Cappy and another guest.”

“Here we go…” Ari sighs when a car drives through the open gate. He shakes his head before punching Andy’s arm. “He’s an outcast, brother. How dare you call him?”

“He’s still our brother,” Andy argues. “I mean…yeah…he chose another family over us, and his love for money is making me sick but…”

“Andrew Barber, there is no but!” Lloyd lunges at his brother. He has his hand around Andy’s throat to slam him into the wall.

“Whoa, stop it!” Ari struggles to drag Lloyd off his brother. “We don’t kill each other, Lloyd. Save your energy for our real enemies.”

“He invited Ransom fucking Drysdale, Ari! How could he? That bastard said we are not brothers,” Curtis yells as said man gets out of his brand-new car. “You! Get off our property!”

Curtis storms toward Ransom to punch his face. “You fucker!” Ransom dodges the next punch. He likes the finer things in life but didn’t forget how to fight. “Andy called me!”

“What is this all about—” Jake and Mike stop in their tracks. While Ari tries to keep Lloyd from strangling Andy, Curtis and Ransom throw punches at each other. “Guys! What’s going on here?”

“So, this is how you keep Y/N safe?” Steve huffs. He drops his duffle bag to the ground to storm past Jake and Mike. “I’ll get her out of this madhouse!”

“Buddy, you better stay out,” Jake puts his hand on Steve’s chest to stop him and make things worse. He doesn’t stand a chance against Captain America, but right now, he gives a shit.

“GUYS!” you stomp your foot. “What is going on here?” You storm toward Lloyd to slap his shoulder. “Lloyd, let go of Andy. Ari same goes for you. Stop hitting your brother’s back.”

“But—” Lloyd pouts. “He…and then…and he invited the gold-digger!”

“I don’t care, Lloyd Hansen,” you poke his arm. “We do not hurt the people we love. I want you to apologize to your brother.” You harrumph and tap your foot. “Lloyd, apologize to your brother or there will be no dessert for you.”

Lloyd’s eyes darken. He looks at your crotch and hums. “I love me some dessert, Cupcake. What do you have to offer?”

“Not that, you little pervert,” you slap the back of his head. “Now play nice, Lloyd.”

“Fine,” he pouts. “I’m sorry for choking you.” He looks at Andy, not sorry at all.

“Ari, your turn,” you point at Ari. “I’m waiting. There will be no head massage and hair pulling for you if you do not apologize for slapping your brother.”

“Is it just me, or is this kind of hot?” Lloyd grins. He’s happy that he isn't the only one who got in trouble this time.

“Lloyd, I’m sorry for slapping your back. Even though you deserved it and I only tried to keep you from choking Andy to death.”

“Very well,” you clap your hands and turn your attention toward Mike. “Are you okay? Did one of them hurt you too?”

“No, I’m good but—” He points at Curtis and Ransom. They are tangled in each other, fighting for control. “Uh-we should stop them too…”

“Christ on a cracker!” You throw your hands up. “You…” you point at Steve. “Hands off Jake.” You look at Jake. “Jakie, no violence. How about you and Mike talk some sense into your brothers.”

“Sure, Sweetie,” Jake relaxes when you press a soft kiss on his cheek. “But if he blinks, I’ll smash him with my laptop.”

“Fair,” you nod and walk toward Curtis and Ransom. Curtis tries to wrestle Ransom to the ground while Ransom tries to kick Curtis’s shin. “Guys, what’s your problem?”

“Hey,  Sunshine,” Curtis pants. He pushes Ransom to the ground, grabs his arm, and twists it. “We are good, Y/N. Just give me a minute to convince my brother to leave our property.”

“Another brother,” you crouch down to get a better look at the man on the ground. “You really are the seven dwarfs.” You smirk at the man staring up at you. He grins and licks his lips.

“Oh, that’s a nice new addition,” Ransom purrs. “Tell me, Sugar. Whom do you belong to?”

“She’s our friend, stop hitting on her,” Curtis puts his foot onto Ransom’s chest. “You are not welcome here.”

Ransom sucks his lower lip in. “She belongs to all of you.” He whistles. “You’re a sweet thing. Hmm…I can think of a thing or two to make you happy.”

“Ransom!” Jake grunts. “Don’t talk like that to Y/N!”

“Curtis, let his arm go,” you place your hand on Curtis’s shoulder to calm him. “People are watching.” You whisper. “We don’t want to draw too much attention toward us. Remember?”

“You’re lucky she stopped me,” Curtis drops Ransom’s arm and steps away. “If not I’d rip your arm out to slap you to death with it.”

“Curtis!” You tut. “Why are you so angry at him?”

“He left us when we needed him the most,” Lloyd wraps his arm protectively around your shoulders. “We were barely fifteen, and that bastard talked some rich people into adopting him. They wanted an heir, and he wanted to get away from us.”

“Can you blame me for not wanting to end up being a mobster and get shot dead? I wanted more from life than that. Just like Andy. But he’s here, parading around the mansion!” Ransom growls. “You forgave him for leaving, but not me. I was a kid looking for hope.”

“You’re a gold-digging whore wanting shiny things, nothing else,” Lloyd spits on the ground next to Ransom. “I suggest you stay far away from me, and Y/N.”

“Lloyd…” Andy sighs. “Please stop this shit. You can’t expect all of us to want the same things you want from life. We tried a different life, okay. The moment you called I was there. Just like Ransom came here after I asked him for help.”

“He won’t get one of the good bedrooms,” Lloyd pecks your cheek before he turns to walk inside the mansion to calm down. “We should head inside and…” he looks at the still-open gate. “Can someone close the fucking gate?”

“So…” you press a cool pack to Curtis’s cheek, “Ransom is the last brother or are there more of you?”

“You can’t get enough of us, huh?” Ari smirks. He bandages his hand while glaring at Lloyd sitting across from him. “You didn’t have to choke Andy.”

“You didn’t have to…” Lloyd mimics Ari. “I do whatever the fuck I want to do.”

Jake and Mike keep out of their fight. They busy themselves watching Steve. The captain sulks in a corner while you play nurse for the brothers.

After offering a cool pack to Ransom and taping his split eyebrow, you took care of Curtis. “Press the cool pack to your cheek. It will help.”

“Thank you, Sunshine,” Curtis sighs when you run your hand over his head. “You’re the best.”

“Andy, no. We need to put something on that too,” you sniffle looking at Andy’s bruised neck. You carefully touch his skin. “Lloyd, you should be ashamed of hurting your brother like that. This is not okay.”

“I said I’m sorry,” Lloyd grumbles under his breath. “He had it coming. What’s a good choking among brothers, right?” He flashes you a smile. “Come on, that one was funny.”

“Not if anyone gets hurt, Lloyd,” you tut. “I thought we wanted to prove to Captain Rogers that I’m safe with all of you. The moment he set foot onto your ground you started fighting each other.”

Steve crosses his arms over his chest. He watches you and listens closely. This is his chance. If he can convince you that the brothers are dangerous, you’ll follow him.

Part 11

Tags in reblog.

[buckets-and-trees]

Obsidian Stain and Sin

Characters/Pairings: soft!dark Ari Levinson x Female!Reader, soft!dark Curtis Everett x Female!Reader, Ari x Reader x Curtis Word Count: 8.1k Summary: You've thought of getting your first tattoo for a long time. When you walk into Obsidian Stain Studio, you experience services beyond what you bargained for.

Content/Warnings: tattooing/needles, DUBIOUS CONSENT, explicit smut, semi-public sex, vaginal fingering, kissing, anal play/rimming (female receiving), eating it from behind, vaginal intercourse, unprotected sex, praise kink, innocence kink, corruption kink, size kink, manhandling, fade to black/abrupt ending

Author Notes: I've had this idea all summer. I've been eager to write it, but literally the muse only kept teasing me with it until literally about six hours ago when she said, WE'RE DOING THIS, AND WE'RE DOING THIS NOW, so it's almost late/maybe it's still you're birthday week for a hot minute in some time zone, but I'm slipping this to you @stargazingfangirl18 for your Birthday Bonenanza! Literally, when I tell you that when you originally tagged me in the announcement, and I read over the myriad of prompts, I thought, "Oh, wow, this is so tattoo Curtis and Ari coded, it HAS TO happen for Siri's birthday..." that's really how my brain thought it was finally going to get the jump on working on this. But then no. Then that other Steve story happened, and I was stoked about that. Then the new chapter for Nomad Steve, and I thought, ah well, still fun stuff, maybe someday this, and then AT THE LAST MOMENT, Muse pulled a plot twist. So here's some ruinous hoe shit. Multiple dialogue prompts from the challenge are used here, and you'll find them in bold.

A/N 2: Shout out to @vonalyn for a few convos hashing out some of this concept!

You are surprised by the tinkling of a classic bell hanging over the door that rings pleasantly as you enter the tattoo parlor.

A man behind the reception desk immediately looks up to greet you. He doesn’t shoot you a phony, business-y smile, but his demeanor is still warm and approachable. “Welcome,” he greets you. “Walk-in or appointment?” he asks.

“Um, walk-in,” you manage. In a black t-shirt with shoulders that are nearly bursting through the fabric, lush hair and beard, and striking blue eyes, he’s more than an impressive specimen. “If you’ve got an opening?” you quickly add.

“Sure, we can take you,” he says. His gaze flicks to a scheduling book in front of him on the counter. “A couple of the boys are on break or about to finish up with other clients. Your first time here, yes?”

You nod. “First tattoo ever.”

“Oh,” he says, and his eyes brighten. “Even better. Let’s get you booked in.”

He takes your name, email, and phone number to set up a profile for you in their system. There are some electronic consent forms that he takes you through and has you agree to and sign on an iPad, and then he takes asks a few questions about what you’re interested in.

“Based off what you have in mind, Curtis might be the best artist, but he won’t be finished for maybe an hour.”

“Ah,” you look at your watch. It was a bit of an impromptu idea for you to drop in to get the tattoo this afternoon, and you had time, but you had probably been foolish thinking a walk-in was any sort of good idea.

“But,” he interjects, “I’ve got two other guys who are excellent, and either one of them should be ready to take you pretty soon. Take a seat just over there, and I’ll go check in with them and get a call on time for you. I’ll also grab you a drink. Pick your poison - we’ve got water or Coke products.”

You give him your preference, and he nods and smiles.

“Right then, sit tight, and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

He disappears around the corner, and you do as you’ve been told and take a seat on one of the black leather couches in the lobby.

Now you have time to really take in your surroundings. The walls are black with white moldings at the floor and ceiling, and the hardwood floors are a warm walnut. Everything is dark but clean. Classic but clearly in line with current trends. On the wall behind the desk, there’s a gorgeous, white-lettered feature with shop name - Obsidian Stain Studio - that’s sleek and impressive. On the wall next to you, there are ten framed pieces of art on the wall in a mix of sizes, some of them hand-drawn artwork, and the rest photos of finished tattoos on skin.

You’re nervous but determined not to be, so you cross your legs and try to keep your anxious energy limited to just running your fingers back and forth over the edge of your phone. Looking at the different designs on the wall does serve to capture your attention, though, and quell your nerves slightly.

The man working reception returns and hands you the drink. “We should have you back there in a chair in ten or fifteen minutes.”

“Great,” you respond, and the nerves kick up a notch, but it’s with a surge of excitement.

This is happening.

You take a sip of your drink, grateful for something to occupy your hands. The cool liquid helps soothe your nerves a bit. As you wait, you observe a few other clients entering and leaving the shop checking in or paying as they leave. Some sport fresh bandages, while others are clearly here for consultations, clutching sketches or reference photos.

The buzzing of tattoo machines creates a constant backdrop of sound, occasionally punctuated by muffled laughter or conversation from the back rooms. The atmosphere is more relaxed than you expected, nineties music underscoring it all.

As you wait, a couple emerges from behind the partition separating the lobby from the work area. They're both grinning, the woman cradling her forearm gently. Her companion is animatedly discussing something with her, gesturing excitedly. You catch a glimpse of fresh ink on her skin as they pass – a vibrant butterfly with intricate, colorful wings.

The sight makes your heart race a little faster. Soon, that'll be you walking out with fresh art on your body. The thought is both thrilling and slightly terrifying.

But you won’t be walking out with a friend or partner.

Your gaze wanders back to the artwork on the walls. One piece in particular catches your eye – an intricate mandala design with flowing lines and delicate detail. You find yourself drawn to its symmetry and complexity.

"Which one’s got your attention?" a voice asks, startling you from your reverie. You look up to see someone you can only describe as a lion of a man standing before you. All of his attention is focused on you like you’re his next prey. He towers over you with a mane of golden brown hair that’s grown out to tuck nicely behind his ears and curls out at his neck. He’s got a broad chest and shoulders covered in a denim shirt with a few buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up past his elbows. You can see peeks of ink mingled with some chest hair as well as intricate designs over his forearms. His dark blue eyes are zeroed in on you in a way that both unsettles and steadies you at the same time.

You point at the mandala, and the man smiles. “That’s one of Steve’s. He says you’re here for your first tattoo.”

“He… wait, is that Steve?” You nod and glance over at the man at the front desk who’s now consulting with an older man and showing him a few designs.

“Yep, he owns the place and loves to work the front almost as much as the back with the rest of us. I’m Ari, by the way.” He puts his hand out, inviting you to shake hands.

You push up from the couch, stand, and offer your hand for the shake. It’s engulfed easily by his big, warm, calloused hand.

“I’m the one who’s going to make your first time special.”

Your heart stutters and your face flushes. He didn’t just… your mind races. Did he?

He chuckles and drops your hand quickly. “Follow me,” he says and turns and begins striding into the back.

You fall into step behind Ari, your eyes inevitably drawn to his broad shoulders and the confident swagger in his step. The back area is an open space divided into several stations with partial walls, each with its own tattoo chair and equipment, creating semi-private booths. Ari leads you to one in the back corner.

"Have a seat," he says, gesturing to the chair.

You perch on the edge, your nerves returning full force. The air is thick with the scent of antiseptic and ink.

He pulls up a rolling stool and sits, leaning in close. "So, tell me about this tattoo you want."

You explain your idea - a simple constellation of stars for your zodiac sign - watching as his blue eyes light up with interest. He nods along, occasionally asking questions or offering suggestions. His enthusiasm is infectious, and you find yourself relaxing despite the butterflies in your stomach.

"Alright, I think I know what you're after," Ari says, reaching for a sketchpad. "Let me rough out a design for you."

You watch, mesmerized, as Ari's hand moves swiftly across the paper. His brow furrows in concentration, and you find yourself studying the angles of his face, the way his beard accentuates his strong jaw. Within minutes, he presents you with a design that takes your breath away.

"What do you think?" he asks, a hint of pride in his voice.

The constellation is there, just as you imagined, but Ari has added subtle details that elevate it beyond your expectations. Delicate lines connect the stars, and a hint of shadowing gives the piece depth and movement.

"It's perfect," you breathe, unable to take your eyes off the sketch.

Ari grins, clearly pleased with your reaction. "Great. Now, let's talk placement."

You indicate the spot you've chosen - your inner wrist. Ari nods approvingly. "Good choice. Nice and visible, but easy to cover if needed. Mind if I take a look?"

You extend your arm, and Ari gently takes your wrist in his large hands. His touch is surprisingly soft as he examines the area, his fingers tracing the spot where your tattoo will soon be. You can't help but notice the contrast between his rough, inked skin and your own unmarked flesh.

"Nice canvas," he murmurs, more to himself than to you. "Skin's good here. This'll work well." He looks up, catching your eye. "Ready to get started?"

You nod, a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling in your chest.

“You’re a sweet, innocent thing, aren’t you?”

You open your mouth but shut it again, unsure how to respond, and he brushes his thumb over the pulse on your inner wrist, and you think you see his eyes darken.

He releases your wrist and turns to prepare his equipment. You’re frozen in place, but luckily that’s fine as it’s not necessary for you to move. You watch as he efficiently sets up his station, laying out ink caps, adjusting his machine, and pulling on a fresh pair of black latex gloves. The buzz of the tattoo machine as he tests it sends a jolt of excitement and nervousness through you.

"Alright, I'm going to clean the area now," he says, swabbing your wrist.

His touch is clinical now, professional, as he prepares your skin. The cool antiseptic makes you shiver slightly.

"Cold?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"A little," you admit.

"Don't worry, I’ll have you warm soon enough," he says with a wink that makes your cheeks flush.

Ari places the stencil on your wrist, pressing it gently to transfer the design. When he peels it away, you see the outline of your constellation on your skin for the first time. It sends a thrill through you - this is really happening.

"Make sure you’re happy with the placement before we start," he instructs. "This is your last chance to change your mind."

You focus to examine the design on your skin more closely, heart racing. It looks even better than you imagined.

"It's perfect," you say, unable to keep the excitement from your voice.

Ari grins. "Alright then, let's make it permanent. You ready?"

You nod, settling back into the chair and extending your arm.

Ari takes your arm gently, positioning it just so on the armrest. "Now, I need you to stay as still as possible," he says, his voice low and soothing. "It's going to hurt a bit, especially at first. But I promise, I'll be as gentle as I can."

The buzz of the machine fills your ears as Ari brings the needle to your skin. You hold your breath, bracing for the pain.

The first touch of the needle is a sharp, burning sensation that makes you wince. Ari pauses, his eyes flicking to your face. "You okay?"

You nod, determined. "I'm fine. Keep going."

“Move an inch, and you’ll be sorry.”

You open your mouth wordlessly again, and he laughs.

“Only joking. I know you’re going to be a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

You bite your lip and nod, something fluttering in your stomach, mixing wickedly with your nerves and the uncertainty around this man who skirts between being casual, soothing your nerves, concentration on his craft, and making these comments that insinuate and evoke wholly inappropriate thoughts.

He smiles, then concentrates back on your wrist and resumes his work. Gradually, the initial shock of pain fades into a more manageable discomfort. You find yourself relaxing, mesmerized by the steady movement of Ari's hand and the way the muscles in his biceps move and flex.

As Ari continues, your eyes shift to his face. His brow is furrowed in concentration, his blue eyes focused intently on your skin. There's something mesmerizing about watching him work, seeing the care and precision he puts into every line. The buzz of the machine becomes almost soothing, a constant backdrop to the occasional murmur of voices from other stations.

"So," Ari says after a while, breaking the silence without looking up from his work, "what made you decide to get your first tattoo today?"

You hesitate, unsure how much to share. "It's… kind of a long story."

Ari glances up, a small smile playing on his lips. "We've got time. I'm not going anywhere, and neither are you."

You take a deep breath, wincing slightly as the needle hits a sensitive spot. "I've been thinking about it for a while. But today… today felt like it was finally the day to take the leap."

"Spontaneous decision, huh? Those can be the best kind."

You nod, feeling the heat creep up your neck. "I guess I just wanted to do something for myself. Something permanent.”

Ari nods thoughtfully, his eyes still focused on your wrist. "Sometimes we need a physical reminder of the changes we're making inside," he says softly. "Something to look at and think, 'Yeah, I did that. I made that choice.'"

His words resonate with you, and you find yourself relaxing further. The pain has faded to a dull, almost pleasant sensation.

"So, what's your story?" you ask, curiosity getting the better of you. "How did you get into tattooing?"

Ari chuckles, pausing to wipe away excess ink. "Now that's definitely a long story. But the short version? I was a troubled kid, got into some bad stuff. Tattooing saved me, gave me a purpose."

He glances up, meeting your eyes. "There's something powerful about creating permanent art on someone's body.”

The words send another thrill through your body and you nod, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickens at his intense gaze. "I can see that," you manage to say.

Ari returns his attention to your wrist, a small smile playing on his lips. "It's intimate, you know? Creating something that becomes a part of someone forever."

The word 'intimate' hangs in the air between you, charged with unspoken tension. You're acutely aware of the warmth of his hand on your skin, the gentle pressure as he works.

“You’re the one Steve says I nearly got to mark for the first time,” a new voice startles you, and you jump slightly in your chair.

Ari tsks, but his left hand had been holding your arm down firmly.

The other man chuckles. “Sorry, sugar.”

He steps closer, coming into Ari’s booth. He looks to be slightly taller than Ari, and a shade leaner, but he’s still built with more muscles than the common man. His hair is dark, shorn close to his head, and a dark beard covers his angular jaw. Ice blue eyes pierce into you, and you fight hard to suppress an actual shiver running down your spine.

"Curtis," Ari says without looking up, his tone a mix of amusement and mild irritation. "Didn't anyone teach you it's rude to interrupt?"

Curtis leans against the partition, crossing his arms over his chest. The movement draws your attention to the intricate tattoos covering his forearms. He’s got more ink than Ari.

"Just wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Steve said we had a noteworthy first-timer."

You feel your face flush, unsure whether to be flattered or embarrassed. Curtis's gaze is intense, almost predatory, as he looks you over.

"Well, now you've seen," Ari says, his voice tight. "Don't you have your own client to attend to?"

Curtis huffs. "Just finished up. Thought I'd come say hello." He turns his attention back to you. "How're you holding up, sweetheart? Ari treating you right?"

You nod, finding your voice. "He's been great," you manage to say, your voice a bit shaky. "It doesn't hurt as much as I expected."

Curtis grins, a glint in his eye. "Oh, Ari knows how to make it feel good, doesn't he?"

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks at the innuendo. Ari's hand tightens slightly on your wrist, and you see his jaw clench.

"Curtis," Ari says, his tone a clear warning.

Curtis holds up his hands. "Alright, alright. I can take a hint." He fixes his gaze once again on your face. "Maybe next time you'll let me be the one to mark you up. Lot more skin still to explore."

With that, he stalks away, leaving a charged atmosphere in his wake. You can feel the tension radiating off Ari as he resumes his work on your tattoo, his jaw clenched.

“Sorry about that,” Ari says after a moment, his voice low. "Curtis can be… intense."

You nod, still feeling flustered from the encounter. "It's okay," you manage to say, trying to calm your racing heart.

Ari looks up at you, his blue eyes searching your face. "You alright? Need a break?"

You shake your head. "No, I'm fine. Let's keep going."

He nods, returning his attention to your wrist. The buzz of the machine fills the silence between you once more. You try to focus on the sensation, the slight sting as the needle moves across your skin, rather than the lingering tension in the air.

After a few minutes, Ari speaks again. "You know, you don't have to let anyone pressure you into anything you're not comfortable with. Not here, not anywhere."

His words surprise you, and you meet his gaze. There's a protective glint in his eye, but he quickly returns his attention to your wrist. Ari's movements become more deliberate, almost possessive, as he continues working on your tattoo. The tension in the air is palpable, and you find yourself hyper-aware of every point of contact between your skin and his.

"Almost done," he murmurs after what feels like both an eternity and no time at all. "Just a few more touches."

You watch as he adds the final details, marveling at how the constellation seems to come to life on your skin. When he finally sits back, setting down the machine, you can't help but gasp.

"It's beautiful," you breathe.

Ari's eyes meet yours, a mixture of pride and something deeper in his gaze. “It suits you perfectly."

You feel a warmth spread through your chest at his words. Ari gently wipes away the last traces of excess ink, revealing the full beauty of your new tattoo. The stars seem to shimmer on your skin, the delicate lines connecting them creating a sense of movement and depth.

"Now, let's get this wrapped up and I'll go over the aftercare instructions with you," Ari says, reaching for a roll of clear film.

As he carefully covers your new tattoo, his fingers brush against your skin, sending little sparks of electricity through you. You can't help but notice how his large hands handle your wrist with such care and precision.

"There," he says, smoothing down the edges of the wrap. "All protected."

Ari walks you to the front, and your heart races when you see Steve and Curtis speaking quietly with their heads together. Ari clears his throat, and at the sight of you, Curtis nods, rakes his gaze over you once more. “Come back soon, sugar.”

You feel a shiver run down your spine at Curtis's words, but Ari's steady presence beside you helps ground you. Steve steps forward, a warm smile on his face.

"How did it go?" he asks, his eyes flickering to your wrapped wrist.

"It was amazing," you reply, unable to keep the excitement from your voice. "Ari did an incredible job." You extend your wrist, showing off your new tattoo.

Steve nods approvingly. "Beautiful work. Ari’s one of our best. Let's get you checked out."

As Steve begins to ring up your work, Ari leans against the counter beside you. His arm brushes against yours, and you're acutely aware of his proximity.

"Remember," he says softly, his voice low enough that only you can hear, "take care of it. It's a part of you now."

You nod, shyly meeting his intense gaze, looking up at him through your lashes. "I will," you promise, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ari's eyes soften, and he reaches out, his fingers ghosting over the edge of the wrap on your wrist. "Good girl," he murmurs, the words sending a shiver down your spine.

Steve clears his throat, breaking the moment. "All set," he says, handing you a receipt. "We hope to see you again soon."

You nod, suddenly feeling flustered. "Thank you," you manage to say, gathering your things.

As you turn to leave, Ari's hand catches your elbow gently. "Wait," he says, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a small business card and presses it into your hand. "In case you have any questions about the aftercare. Or anything else."

Your fingers brush as you take the card, and you feel a jolt of electricity at the contact. You look down at the card, noting the personal cell phone number scrawled on it. "Thank you."

Ari's blue eyes lock with yours, intense and filled with unspoken promise.

You barely seem to turn away, but somehow manage to break off from the eye contact, and quickly rush out of Obsidian Stain Studio.

You keep Ari’s business card, but as the weeks go by, you don’t use it.

After a couple of months, you move the card from the spot next to where you keep your keys where you see it every day, into the top drawer of your desk. Out of frequent sight, but not out of mind completely.

It’s a solid six months before you return to Obsidian Stain again, but ultimately you do. The bell jingles above your head as you step inside.

The tattoo on your wrist had healed beautifully, and you loved seeing it on your skin. You had decided fairly soon afterwards that you wanted another tattoo, but even after saving up for your next one, it had taken you longer to decide whether to return Obsidian or not, the experience with Ari and encounters with Curtis leaving you torn between terrified and desperately curious to go back.

Ultimately the allure was too strong to deny.

But, more logically, although finally going in to get your first tattoo had been on a whim, you had been very thorough in narrowing down and exploring your options for months before. You knew they were one of the best in your area, especially for the style you wanted, and the price point you knew you could afford while still ensuring quality.

Unwilling to make an appointment, though, you were going to gamble on a walk-in again.

No one was immediately at the front desk, but at the sound of the bell, Steve quickly appears. “Welcome back,” he said, a broad grin on his face.

“Walk-in?” you ask, and remind him of your name.

“Oh, I remember you.” Steve beckons you forward. “Let me see that wrist,” he says.

You offer your arm with pride, and he smiles warmly.

“Looks good. You hit us on a slow day, perfect for a walk in. I’ll get you booked in, and then I’ll take you right back.”

You feel a mix of excitement and nervousness as Steve leads you to the back. The familiar scent of antiseptic and ink fills your nostrils, bringing back memories of your last visit. Your eyes scan the room, half hoping and half dreading to see a certain tattooist.

"Curtis is free right now," Steve says, guiding you to a station. "He'll take good care of you."

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of Curtis's name. You remember his intense gaze, his bold words from your last visit. Part of you is disappointed it's not Ari, but another part is intrigued.

Curtis looks up as you approach, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Well, well. Look who's back," he says, his ice blue eyes locking onto yours.

You swallow hard, suddenly feeling very exposed under his gaze. "Hi," you manage evenly.

Curtis's eyes rake over you. "I was hoping you'd come back to us," he says, his voice low and smooth. "What can I do for you today, sugar?"

You begin to explain the design you have in mind - a delicate, line art floral piece. As you talk, Curtis listens intently, occasionally nodding or asking questions. His focus is entirely on you, making you feel both nervous and oddly thrilled.

“And where do you want it?” he finally asks.

You trace an area of your other arm - opposite of the one with your inked-up wrist — moving your fingers over the delicate skin between your wrist and up toward the crook of your elbow.

“Hmm,” he hums. “You sure?”

Your eyes shoot to his. “Yes?” an edge of hesitation now in your voice at his query.

He narrows his eyes slightly, then shakes his head. “No.”

“No?”

“No. A piece like this could work well there, but that’s not where you want me to put this.”

“It… isn’t?”

“No, it should go here,” he says, and he reaches out and brushes his fingers lightly over your ribs instead, causing you to shiver.

He gestures for you to take a seat in the chair. As you settle in, Curtis rolls his stool closer, leaning in. "Now, this is going to be a bit more intense than your other wrist. You sure you're ready for it?"

You nod, trying to project confidence despite the nervous flutter in your stomach. "I'm ready."

Curtis grins, a predatory glint in his eye. "That's what I want to hear from that pretty mouth. Now just sit tight and wait for me while I draw something up.”

Your heart races as you lean back in the chair, Curtis's words echoing in your mind, causing heat to pool in your core. You watch, mesmerized by the intensity of his focus. After a few minutes, he turns back to you, holding up the sketch.

"What do you think?" he asks.

Your breath catches in your throat. The design is beautiful - delicate flowers and vines intertwining in a way that would perfectly follow the curve of your ribs.

"It's perfect," you breathe, unable to take your eyes off the design.

Curtis smirks, clearly pleased with your reaction. "Alright then, let's get started. I'm going to need you to lift your shirt for me."

Your cheeks flush as you slowly raise the hem of your shirt, exposing your ribs. Curtis's eyes darken as they roam over your skin.

"Beautiful canvas," he murmurs, his voice low and husky.

You feel exposed, knowing your own soft belly and imperfections, but he looks at you in a way that has your head spinning, it’s a hunger that’s almost reverent.

“Better if you take your shirt off for me, sugar,” he says, his tone firm.

Head swirling, you don’t think to refuse, just do as you’re told. With trembling hands, you pull your shirt over your head, feeling incredibly vulnerable as you sit there in just your bra. Curtis's eyes roam over your exposed skin, a look of satisfaction on his face.

"That's better," he says, his voice low and approving. "Now, let's get you positioned just right."

His hands, surprisingly gentle, guide you to lie back and slightly to the side. You shiver as his fingers trail along your ribs, mapping out where the tattoo will go.

"Nervous?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his tone.

He already knows the answer, but you nod, not trusting your voice.

Curtis leans in close, his breath warm against your ear. "Don't worry, sugar. I'll take good care of you."

Your breath catches in your throat at his words. He chuckles softly, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you.

Curtis begins to clean and prepare your skin, his touch clinical yet somehow still intimate. You try to steady your breathing, hyperaware of every point of contact between his hands and your body.

"Now, this is going to hurt more than your wrist did," Curtis warns, his voice low. "But I know you can take it. You're tougher than you look, aren't you, sugar?"

You nod, steeling yourself for the pain. The buzz of the tattoo machine fills the air, and then you feel the first bite of the needle against your skin. You gasp, your body tensing.

"Breathe," Curtis instructs, his free hand coming to rest on your hip, grounding you. "That's it, nice and steady."

As he works, Curtis surprisingly stokes and then keeps up a steady stream of conversation. Mostly it’s inquiry after inquiry, forcing you to focus on finding words, but his deep voice also helps to distract you from the pain. He asks about your life, your interests. You find yourself opening up, sharing more than you intended about your life, your dreams, your fears. His voice continues to provide the counterpoint to the buzz of the tattoo machine.

"You're doing so well," Curtis murmurs, his eyes flicking up to meet yours before returning to his work. "Such a good girl for me."

The praise sends a shiver through you, and you bite your lip to stifle a small moan. Curtis notices, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

"Sensitive, aren't you?" he says, his voice low. "I like that."

Your cheeks flush, but you can't deny the thrill his words send through you. The pain of the tattoo blends into the sensations he’s evoking as his hands move with practiced precision across your skin.

"So, sugar, what made you come back for more ink?" he asks, his eyes flicking up to meet yours before returning to his work.

You take a shaky breath before answering. "I loved how the first one turned out. And… I guess I wanted to experience it again."

Curtis chuckles, darkly. "Addictive, isn't it? The pain, the permanence... the intimacy of it all."

His words make your heart race, and you're acutely aware of how close he is, how vulnerable you are beneath his hands.

"Speaking of your first time," Curtis continues, the steadying hand that had been at your waist ghosting just a little lower, "Ari seemed quite taken with you. Did you ever give him a call?"

The question catches you off guard, and you feel a flush creep up your neck. "No, I… I didn't," you admit softly.

Curtis's hand stills for a moment, and he looks up at you, his ice blue eyes intense. "No? Now that's interesting. Why not, sugar?"

You swallow hard, unsure how to answer, yet unable to stop the words from flowing. "I... I guess I was nervous," you finally say.

A slow smile spreads across Curtis's face. "Nervous? Of Ari? Or of what you felt?”

Your cheeks flush at his perceptiveness. "Both, maybe," you whisper.

“Or maybe you were waiting for something else?" His hand resumes its work, but the touch his anchor hand seems more deliberate now, each movement charged with unspoken intent.

"I don't know what you mean.”

Curtis chuckles, a low, dark sound that sends shivers down your spine. "I think you do, sugar. I think you knew exactly what you were doing when you came back here today."

His words hang in the air between you, charged with tension. You can't bring yourself to deny it, can't even find your voice to respond. Curtis seems to take your silence as confirmation.

"That's what I thought," he murmurs, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. "You're full of surprises, aren't you?"

The buzz of the tattoo machine fills the silence as Curtis returns his focus to your ribs. You try to steady your breathing, acutely aware of every point of contact between his skin and yours. The pain of the tattoo blends with the heat pooling in your core, creating a heady mix of sensations.

"Tattoo nearly done," Curtis says after what feels like hours.

You let out a shaky breath, a mix of relief and disappointment washing over you. The intense experience is coming to an end, but part you that scares you doesn't want it to.

"Just a few more touches," Curtis murmurs, his eyes focused intently on your skin, and the buzz of the machine continues for a few more minutes.

"There we go," Curtis murmurs. He wipes away the excess ink, then sits back to admire his work. His eyes roam over your exposed skin, a mixture of professional pride and something darker in his gaze. "Want to take a look?"

You nod, not trusting your voice. Curtis helps you sit up, steadying you with a hand on your lower back as you move to face the mirror. Your breath catches in your throat as you see the intricate design now adorning your ribs. The delicate flowers and vines seem to bloom across your skin, following the curves of your body perfectly.

"It's perfect," you whisper, unable to take your eyes off the mirror.

Curtis's smile widens, and his eyes darken. "Of course it is. I knew exactly what you needed."

His words send another shiver through you, but then suddenly you feel the heat of him too close, and he’s pressed right up against your back, planting his large hands on your hips and caging you in.

"You're trembling," Curtis murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. His hands tighten on your hips, holding you steady against him. "Are you scared, sugar?"

You can't find your voice to answer, your heart pounding in your chest. You're acutely aware of every point of contact between your bodies - his broad chest against your back, his strong hands on your hips, the heat of him seeping through your skin.

"Or maybe," he continues, his voice low and dark, "you're excited."

One of his hands slides up your side, carefully avoiding the fresh tattoo, until it comes to rest just below your breast. Your breath hitches, and you see your pupils dilate in the mirror's reflection.

"That's what I thought," Curtis says, satisfaction clear in his tone. "You've been thinking about this, haven't you? Since the moment you walked in.”

You can feel the heat radiating from his body, smell the faint scent of ink and something uniquely him. Your heart races, a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through you.

"Tell me, sugar," Curtis murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. "Did you come back here hoping to see Ari? Or were you hoping it would be me?"

You swallow hard, your mind spinning. "I… I don't know," you manage to whisper.

Curtis chuckles, the sound low and dark. "I think you do know. I think you've been thinking about this for months." His hands slide up and down your sides, careful to avoid the fresh tattoo. "Thinking about what it would be like if you came back. If you let yourself give in."

Your breath hitches. “No.”

“No?” he challenges. His right hand, still gloved, audaciously slips past your waistband and down the front of your panties to cup your pussy. He laughs softly, discovering a growing wetness there. “Yes.”

You gasp as Curtis's hand begins to stroke your most intimate area, your body betraying you with its response. Your mind races, torn between the thrill of his touch and the shock at how quickly things have escalated.

"Wait," you manage to breathe out, your voice shaky. "We shouldn't…"

Curtis pauses, his hand stilling but not withdrawing. "Why not?" he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "Your body is telling me a different story, sugar."

You're acutely aware of how exposed you are, standing there in just your bra with Curtis pressed against your back, his hand between your legs. The mirror reflects your flushed face and wide eyes, Curtis's intense gaze locked on you.

"Someone could walk in," you whisper, a weak protest even to your own ears.

Curtis chuckles darkly. "They could.”

Your mind is spinning, caught between the intense sensations and the voice in your head screaming that this is wrong, that you shouldn't be doing this here, now, with him. But your body betrays you, responding eagerly to his touch.

"Curtis," you manage to whisper, your voice shaky, and tears springing up in your eyes. "We can’t—"

"Shh," he soothes, his free hand coming up to gently grip your throat. Not choking, just holding. "Don't overthink it, sugar. Just feel."

His fingers continue their exploration, finding your clit and circling it slowly. You bite back a moan, plant your hands on the mirror, and your hips rock back against him.

“Fuck, knew you wanted this,” he speaks directly into your ear.

You whimper and shake your head, but then his hand moves up to cover your mouth. “Gotta keep more quiet than that unless you want someone else to join us, sugar.”

Your eyes desperately seek his in the mirror, fear flashing in them, and the tears begin to spill over. There’s a predatory glint in his icy blue gaze.

His fingers continue their skilled ministrations, drawing forth sensations you've never experienced before. Your body betrays you, responding eagerly to his touch despite your mind's protests. You're caught in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions - fear, excitement, shame, and an overwhelming, undeniable pleasure.

"Look at yourself," Curtis commands softly, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror. "See how beautiful you are like this."

You force yourself to look, to really see yourself - flushed cheeks, wide eyes, chest heaving with each ragged breath. Curtis behind you, his large frame dwarfing yours, his hand between your legs, the other still gently but firmly covering your mouth.

Curtis's eyes meet yours in the mirror, his gaze intense and predatory. The fear in your eyes seems to excite him further, his grip on you tightening slightly.

"Don't worry, sugar," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “I knew all those pretty tears were just for show, you want this just as badly as I do, and I've got you."

His words send a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and arousal coursing through you. You're acutely aware of how vulnerable you are, how easily he could overpower you if he wanted to. And yet, there's a part of you that thrills at the danger, at the forbidden nature of what's happening.

Curtis's fingers continue their skilled exploration, drawing involuntary gasps and moans from you that are muffled by his hand. Each deliberate movement sends waves of sensation coursing through your body, igniting a fire that you never expected to feel. Your body continues to betray you, responding to his touch despite your mind's protests, creating a tumultuous conflict within you. The thrill of the moment is undeniable, yet a flicker of apprehension lingers in the background, whispering the dangers of being caught in such an intimate entanglement, making it impossible to pull away.

"Damn, that’s a pretty sight,” a familiar voice jolts you nearly out of your skin, and you whip your head around to see Ari looming in the entry.

Curtis stops only for a moment and looks over his shoulder at the other man. "Didn't anyone teach you it's rude to interrupt?"

Ari shrugs, all nonchalance, and palms the large bulge pressing at the front of his jeans.

Your heart races, caught between exhilaration and apprehension. The sight of Ari standing there, a blend of curiosity, mischief, and lust in his eyes, adds an element of unpredictability that excites and terrifies you.

Curtis grunts, then says, “I’m not stopping, but I’ll share.”

Your jaw would have dropped to the floor in that moment had Curtis’s hand not been holding it in place, securing your response and anchoring you to the present. The idea of a threesome, tantalizing yet fraught with risk, swirls in your mind. How did this escalate so quickly? The thought of being discovered sends a shiver down your spine, but the allure of the forbidden is intoxicating, pulling you deeper into the moment.

You sob, overwhelmed and afraid, but it’s muffled as Curtis turns your body around with him, his grip firm yet reassuring His fingers are still moving, relentless and sure, and you can hardly focus on anything else. Your mind races through the possibilities, the dangerous thrill of being discovered adding an exhilarating layer to the encounter. Would Ari join in, or would he simply stand by and watch, adding to the intensity of the moment? The idea of indulging in such a forbidden experience fills you with a mix of dread and excitement, as if you’re teetering on the edge of a cliff, about to leap into the unknown.

Ari pulls a privacy curtain you had failed to notice across the opening to the booth before taking the few short steps to close the distance between you. This sudden shield from prying eyes heightens the anticipation, transforming the atmosphere into one charged with desire and unspoken possibilities. Ari traces the back of his forefinger down the column of your throat, down your sternum, between your breasts, and then circles around the expanse of your new tattoo, eyes roaming over the beautiful design.

Not to be forgotten, Curtis tweaks your clit, cracking the pleasure that had been mounting like a whip, demanding an orgasm from your body, and you tremble in his arms as you cling to him. Each flick of his fingers sends shivers through you, igniting a fiery response that leaves you gasping for more.

“Knew you were such a good girl,” Ari praises, and your chest surges from his praise, his low, sultry voice invading your mind. Then, he unzips his jeans, the sound echoing in the booth like a promise yet to be fulfilled. He goes to sit on the black leather chair, pushing his pants and boxer briefs down around his ankles, revealing the enticing sight of his big, throbbing cock.

Curtis lifts you with ease and places you in Ari's lap. The transition is seamless, and you find yourself enveloped in the warmth of Ari's embrace. His hands instinctively find their way to your hips, grounding you as you settle in. With Curtis standing close, the dynamic continues to shift and evolve. You can feel the heat radiating from both men, each one eager to exact pleasure, and you hope the fire doesn’t consume you completely.

“Take off your bra,” Ari directs you.

Your eyes widen over his immediate demands, but, nervous as you still are, you don’t hesitate to do as he says. His hands on your hips hold you steady while you reach around to unclasp, and then you let it drop and fall away, biting your lip. Ari groans appreciatively, and grinds your core against his cock. You let out a shuddering breath at the friction, but it’s a singular sensation for only a moment, because then Ari dips his head and takes one of your breasts into his hot, wet mouth, and you gasp. Your fingers tangle immediately into his hair, looking for some kind of anchor.

Vaguely you hear the rustle of fabric from Curtis close behind you, and then you feel the heat of his now naked chest press against your back. He nips lightly at your neck, but then pulls back slightly. He rucks your loose skirt up over your hips, but then he rips the fabric of your panties right off, and you yelp in surprise.

Ari’s quick to muffle your sound by shifting his lips from your breast to your mouth, but his lips and tongue are no less eager, and the kiss is delicious and demanding, and you’re easily almost completely lost in him again. But Curtis has also discarded his gloves, and now his warm, calloused hands move slowly up your thighs before squeezing your hips, then start to knead the flesh of your round ass.

Curtis places a hand between your shoulders and pushes you forward, coaxing you against Ari’s chest. Ari takes the hint and leans back in the reclined chair, pulling you with him. This exposes your most intimate parts to Curtis, and he spreads you open, then presses his tongue flat against your cunt, eliciting a moan that, luckily, is swallowed up by Ari, who’s still eagerly kissing you, and now kneading your breasts in his large hands. Curtis continues to lick and lap at your cunt, but then his tongue begins to move up, and then suddenly he’s tonguing the tight rosebud of your ass, and you whimper and freeze.

Ari stops when you stop, pulling away to look at your face and assess the situation.

Curtis teases you with his tongue for another moment before pausing to pull away as well.

“Not a virgin,” he guesses, “but never had anyone play with your ass, have you, sugar?”

You close your eyes and try to take a steadying breath, your, “no,” soft and barely audible.

“Do you want him to stop?” Ari asks, and you can feel him studying your face.

Your mind is racing, but you remain frozen, unsure of what to say.

Ari brings one hand up to stroke your cheek. You lean into his touch and open your eyes again, but still don’t speak.

“Keep going,” he says to Curtis, and Curtis does.

While Curtis works your tightest hole with his tongue, still splaying your cheeks open, Ari reaches down to slip two fingers into your dripping cunt, and you eagerly rock your hips for more. Ari smiles, then brings you down with his other hand to kiss you again.

When you’re positively humping his hand, Ari pulls back from kissing you again with a darker laugh than you expected, but you’re so far gone between them, you think of stopping or slowing at all now.

“Open your eyes,” he commands.

But it doesn’t register.

He withdraws your fingers and slaps your pussy, making you gasp and groan, and your eyes whip open.

His dark blue irises are barely visible, pupils blown wide with lust, and it just cause another surge of electricity to run through you to your core.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?”

And then it’s his cock nudging at your entrance.

“Ari,” you groan.

“Since that first fucking minute I saw you in the lobby,” he says. He taps his cock aggressively against your swollen clit, and you keen for him. “Knew you were an innocent little thing, and I wanted to absolutely ruin you.”

You bite your lip, unable to look away from him, and think of that day, too.

“We both wanted to ruin you,” Curtis adds. And his finger takes over where his tongue had been, working gently but insistently into your ass.

You moan softly, but the two men hear it and exchange a glance over your shoulder. Ari looks pleased.

“I didn’t touch you that day, only teased you, enticed you. I knew you’d be back,” he growls. “Shame I didn’t have you on my chair again, but that wasn’t going to stop me.”

He pushes your lips back to his for another devouring kiss, but it’s brief.

“You’re desperate to be filled up, aren’t you?” he asks.

Closing your eyes again, you whimper and drop your forehead to his, but your answer is undeniable. “Yes.”

“You didn’t have to wait this long, but we won’t punish you for that. We’re patient men.”

“It only gave us more time to think of all the ways we’ll take you apart, sugar,” Curtis murmurs against your shoulder, then presses open-mouthed kisses against your hot skin there.

And then Ari is slipping his cock inside of your cunt, slow, insistent, and doesn’t stop until he’s into the hilt, pushing all the air out of your lungs. He’s so big it feels like he’s everywhere, and it takes you concentrating on making your lungs work again to suck in deep breaths, impossibly full of him.

But as full as you feel, it wasn’t everything. Because while Ari was slipping his cock inside you, Curtis had removed his fingers, and now his thick cock was splitting you open and finding room in a hole that had never been filled before, and it was unfamiliar pain, but already pressing into impossible pleasure, and really, you had to press your palms to the leather on either side of Ari’s head and focus on breathing and only breathing if you were going to survive this.

And then they both began to move.

In and out and in and out and inandout.

And you were sure you were going to black out or bliss out from how full you were and all the sensations surging through your body and –

read the next part: TAKING YOU HOME

I make no apologies for this. Send me your medical bills as needed.

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[eccentricallygothic]

Psycho Husband!Steve Rogers who is a crazed coercive bastard.

Warning(s): Noncon, misogyny/sexism, depraved housewife kink, head shaving/hair cutting, he's a mental mf who thinks he is only doing what's best for you; cruel punishments are care and better sense according to him, age gap, fear kink, infantilization, humiliation, size kink. MDNI. 

. . .

You meekly sit atop your husband, Steve Rogers' lap as he feeds himself and you the dinner you meticulously prepared for him as he cares greatly for detail and perfection. 

The older man hums with each bite, one large paw caressing your back from over the thin -nearly sheer- material of one of the many dresses that make up the entirety of your wardrobe. 

“Absolutely delicious, baby, good job” he has been praising you with each bite and so you cannot help but smile at the compliments, your smaller body resting against his as you gently comb his hair with your fingers.

This is good.

Him being pleased is good.

“Thank you, my heart” you kiss his cheek that he had shaved just this morning when you were on your knees getting rid of his morning wood. He usually does that at night but you chose to wear a certain dress yesterday that caused for you to remain trapped in bed from the moment he got home till the both of you woke up tangled and sticky.

“See?” Now his fingers silkily glide up the length of your spine, past its dents that appear on your nape and towards your scalp that holds no barriers between your skins. “Wasn't I right?” Steve's fingertips flex all over your shiny head that he keeps empty from any hurdle between yourself and him. “Didn't it make things all better for us, hm?” Your tongue grows heavy and you feel it beginning to swell.

But you must not speak your mind.

For you are not allowed to have one.

“Yes, hubby, you were” you feel him stroke the bald crown of your head and the feeling of his coarse skin rubbing your soft and moisturized one sends shivers down your spine. 

His dark but relaxed blue eyes watch you, outwardly friendly but secretly inspecting you closely for the tiniest slip up. “Just too stupid to see it back then, weren't you?”

You nod nervously, offering him a smile as you avert your gaze from his, choosing to awkwardly play with his dress shirt instead. “Yes, hubby, I was.” Before you look up momentarily. He hates it when you don't look at him while speaking. “Thank you for teaching me better.” 

“And what did I teach you?” You bite your tongue, his words scalding your ears. 

Of course, he wants you to say it.

It is a routine that he likes to do every night. 

“That you are always right because you know better.” You resist the urge to cringe from how he suddenly gives you a burst of praise head rubs. 

It is a trap, meant to set you off.

He knows you don't like his hand rubbing your bald head like you're some kind of an animal and he still does it.

You've made the mistake of fighting back one too many times in the past.

But now you know it never fares well for you.

So better to just obey.

“Yeah?” His eyes begin to dance all over your form in that lewd fashion of theirs. “And how did I teach you that?” This is nothing new, and yet your heart drops.

“You taught me by…” Your face becomes hot from the embarrassment and humiliation. “B- By…” Fuck.

Even after all this time, it's no easier to do it. 

“By?” You can feel his sick arousal poke into the back of your thigh. He shifts to readjust himself. “Know what, honey?” He actually has the gall to sound friendly like he's doing you a favor out of the goodness of his heart. “I'll help your little mind out by giving you a hint.” You cannot hold his gaze anymore. So you drop your eyes and train them on his collars as you whimper into his cheek from how he hugs you closer with the arm he has draped around you. He loves proximity. “It had something to do with a machine and a cute head” his long fingers caress your scalp in circular motions.

Your heart is erratic against his chest. “H–” the whimper you let out is shaky and pathetic. Your expression falters into one of pain but you recover just as fast. At least on the outside. “T- Taught me by shaving my head.”

Steve's smirk is one of pride. “Oh? And what setting did I shave it on? Did I leave anything behind or did you become a complete cueball?” 

Tears sting your eyes from the sensitivity and helplessness as you feel your throat tighten even more. “N- No, hubby. Nothing was left. You shaved it all off…” Closing your eyes momentarily is the only way you can let out your next words. “Until I was a cueball.”

“And why was that, huh, baby?” Now he speaks to you like you're a child. 

He does that when he is horny. 

The realization makes your stomach twist.

“B- Because you warned me many times but—” your voice breaks and you softly sob into his cheek all of a sudden because the memories overwhelm you. “I didn't l- listen and my hair kept getting in the food I would prepare for you.” He somberly cooes and lowers your head forwards in a submissive position to caress the links of your spine.

“Oh, honey. Is that what happened?” Though Steve rests his cheek atop your bald head that he keeps shiny with scented oils and feigns sadness his bulge is too stiff against your tender skin for his little act to hold any weight. 

“Yes, hubby.” Your tears fall on your lap. 

“And how did it happen, huh, darling?” He loves the helplessness of your situation. That has got to be it. “Can you tell me?”

You nod and swallow the bile in your throat. Denial is not an option. “The scary razor went all over my head, hubby” you make yourself sound like a baby because that's what he likes. “Like buzz buzz buzz~” you try to mimic the sound and gesture as you run a pretend trimmer over your naked scalp. 

“Aw, it was scary for your little baby self, was it?” You timidly nod, pouting a little. “That's because you're so small and easily scared, aren't you?” He presses kisses all over your head and pinches your cheek. 

“Yes, hubby.” 

“Aw, my poor girl” he cups your face and lets his thumb trace the shape of your mouth. “I get it, you’re just a baby” he cannot but kiss you deeply before speaking again. 

“But it was necessary, wasn't it? And it worked” it is typical of him to seek validation for his unhinged actions from you, probably helps him sleep easier and pumps his pompousness further. “No more hair in the food.” He smiles and forces you to look at him by tipping your head back.

“No more hair in the food.” You echo him like the hollow doll he has made of you.

“Awww” he chuckles at the dejection in your voice. “Cheer up, silly. You look just as perfect as the first moment I laid my eyes on you” his lips repeatedly peck yours for a few moments. Then he continues. “I am the only one whose opinion matters for you and I think you're the most gorgeous thing alive” he scoops you up in his arms before standing up and you give him a smile like you're supposed to. He leans in to capture it in his own. “The cueball only makes you sexier and more nude for me. So it's a win all around” you whimper into the words he utters against your mouth. “C'mon, hubby will make you feel all better.” He whispers before carrying you to the bedroom. It is impossible not to be aware of your devastation and that is why he offers compensation the way he does. “Yeah?”

All you can do is nod defeatedly.

. . .

If you made it down here, hi you're cool. 

[bigtreefest]

Pour Clueless Babes

Pairing: Bartender! Curtis Everett x Reader

Summary: unbeknownst to you both, you and the broody bartender can’t help your want to be around each other

Word count: 1,751

Content/warnings: swears?, slight objectification and misogyny, attempts at hiding feelings, alcohol consumption, teasing from friends, a hint of idiots in love?, a small mention of Curtis’s rooftop herb garden, it’s mostly fluff and mutual pining

A/N: written for Siri’s Birthday Bonenanza!! Love you, babes, and happy birthday. @stargazingfangirl18

Comments, likes, reblogs, and asks are so appreciated. Thank you for reading!!

Prompts: Babe is in love and cranky about it + Character A is frustrated at how fucking oblivious Character B is to their advances + “I’m sure you could talk me into saying ‘yes’ to whatever you want.”

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Main Masterlist

“You just need to buck up and ask her out.”

Curtis rolled his eyes at his friend sitting in a lawn chair across from him in the rooftop garden, pairing it with a scoff before he took another sip of his beer.

“It’s not that easy, dude.”

Ari, Curtis’s longtime friend, co-owner and often co-bartender of the main dive in town shifted in his seat with a raised brow and tilt of the head. “Sure it is! You’re hot, and from the way you talk about her, so is she. I don’t see what could go wrong.”

Curtis grumbled and finished off his bottle, grabbing another from the bucket of ice and uncapping it. “A lot. A lot could go wrong, Ari. I don’t want a quick fuck and I sure as hell don’t have girls throwing themselves at me like you do on Friday nights.”

Ari scoffed, but had no rebuttal, it was true. Women flocked to Ari’s side of the bar, always creating a crowd where the regulars couldn’t get served. So Curtis took them, while Ari could be caught slinging dozens of fruity drinks for all the flirts who constantly mentioned how strong and attentive he was. The only reason Curtis didn’t complain was because they split tips, Ari getting several banknotes marked with phone numbers and salacious messages, and Curtis getting the peace of the calmer drinkers.

Sure, a woman here and there would come to Curtis for a drink, figuring Ari wasn’t worth the wait and the shoulder bumping, but that was few and far between. Until you.

From the moment he watched you walk through the door, he kept an eye on your searching gaze, smiling when you saw your friends, but making a beeline for him before you went and sat.

The next time you came up to him, though, Curtis made sure your drink was on the house. Anything for the pretty girl who smiled at him. Chose him. And was much more enjoyable than his grumbling regulars.

Curtis was pulled out of this thoughts by Ari’s groan.

“Listen, I don’t think women throw themselves at me…”

Curtis looked at his friend with disbelief at the blatant lie.

“…that much. Not that much, I was gonna finish, jeez. Plus, what’s it matter, it’s not like I take them home…usually. Sloppy drunk isn’t cute and too many of them just keep coming back until I cut them off. No one has chatted me up like they want a date instead of in my pants because all I get are googly eyes, but this sounds different for you. She sounds good.”

Curtis sighed and wiped a hand over his beard. Ari was right. You were good. Probably too good for him. Plus, it’s not like you even noticed any move he tried to put on you. You were probably just being nice, not flirty. You probably didn’t even notice the free drinks using special ingredients made from the garden, the rare smile he’s never given another customer. It was kind of infuriating that he was so ready to give himself over to you and you had no idea just how deep it ran. How it affected him and stayed on his mind even in the off hours. Guys had to be throwing themselves at you, and he was just another one to add on to the bottom of the list.

“Yeah, yeah, I just…I don’t wanna mess it up, ya know? Am I even ready for this? Why now? Why do I have to feel something now? And I don’t even know if she feels the same way!”

Ari only offered a shrug.

“I don’t know, man. When it’s time, it’s time.”

That’s all he gave. Curtis groaned and wiped a hand down his face, rubbing back and forth over his beard once again. “Yeah….it’s just…ugh. I can’t think of anything else. I’ve got all these plans for bar improvement. The herb garden is finally coming in nicely and I was gonna meet with those brunch people from the city to talk about expanding our offerings beyond the few ideas I’ve come up with, but I can’t focus on a goddamn thing other than her.”

Curtis was almost mad it was affecting him so much—that he looked forward to seeing you. Yearned to make you another drink, hold conversation just a second longer. Nothing had ever stuck to his mind this much.

Ari only laughed as he looked over the edge of the roof at the town where the two had grown up. Over all that time, he had never seen his buddy this torn up.

Pulling two more drinks out of the bucket, he uncapped them and handed one to his friend.

“Well, here’s hoping you get this all sorted out. And by that, I mean, get your big boy pants on, fully admit your feelings, and ask her out.”

Curtis groaned and threw a hand over his eyes while his best friend simply smirked, knowing he was right.

It was Friday night and you were hanging out with some of your friends at the bar you had been frequenting lately. Everyone around you was in deep conversation, but you were lost, zoned out, with your mind on only one thing: that gruff bartender.

You had already been up to see him three times this evening, insisting to be the one to get the next rounds for the table in hopes of garnering his attention.

You felt successful. Maybe? Every time you went up to him, his full attention was on you. And it looked like he was smiling, right? Well, no, he probably did that with everyone. Except…in the several times you had caught yourself staring at him, he never once made that same face at another customer. So it had to mean something, didn’t it?

You felt your shoulder shaking, pulling you out of your thoughts and blinked back into consciousness.

“What? What?” You shook your head and looked back at your group of friends.

Alana sitting next to you rolled her eyes with a laugh. “Your drink has been sitting empty for a minute, girl. We’re just surprised you haven’t gone back to the broody bartender, yet! Jenna said she dropped by and all she got was a scowl when she asked for green tea shots, but we see the way he looks at you. Think you could score us some good shots?”

You scoffed and leaned back in your seat, trying to deny what you felt, but didn’t necessarily see. “Oh please, I’m sure he doesn’t even notice me!”

The three girls across from you exchanged a glance before Jenna shook her head. “Um, wrong. One hundred percent wrong. I’m pretty sure you’re all he notices and he’s the same for you. Can’t believe you two are so blind to each other. You keep going up to him and you’re up to a total of what? Half a dozen free drinks over a few visits at this point?”

Everyone around you shared the same knowing glance and you were ready to concede. You couldn’t help the way your heart started beating faster with anticipation of going up to him again, but the alcohol flowing through your body, finally settling in, was enough to override any last ounce insecurity you had. You just wanted to be close to him that badly again, despite his apparent disdain for fancy shots. It was worth a try, though, so you sighed and nodded and stood up, saving your brain power so you could say something coherent to the beautifully beastly bartender.

As you steadied yourself in your shoes, the alcohol hit a little harder, but you weren’t going to stop now. As you began your steps across the wooden floor, your eyes locked with the man with the dark beard and buzz cut and watched as his deft hands slid another beer across the counter at a regular.

You waltzed up to the varnished bar and drummed your fingers on the edge as you looked up at the head between a towering pair of broad shoulders. If you’d have known better, you’d have said he was almost beaming at you.

“Hey sweet thing, what can I get you?”

A tingle went down your spine at that. You would’ve claimed it was the alcohol, if you hadn’t known that it usually numbed you instead of set your body alight. The bartender, who you’d come to know as Curtis, usually wasn’t that outright with the pet names. From what you had seen so far, he was pretty reserved. Something had changed tonight, though, and you couldn’t complain about that, so you threw it back.

“Well, handsome, I’m really sorry to ask this, but would you be willing to make me four green tea shots? I’m sorry if it’s a lot to ask…”

From your side, you heard a snicker, and your eyes found an older gentleman, likely one of the bar regulars. Curtis’s gaze had darted to him, too, except his eyes were stern. The gentleman knew that Curtis wasn’t usually one to make drinks with more than a couple steps, and especially not on more than one occasion in a night unless it was for someone pretty exceptional. And you seemed like both of those things. Curtis simply cleared his throat to regain your attention and pulled out the glasses before finding what he needed.

“Well lucky for you, I’m sure you could talk me into saying ‘yes’ to whatever you want.” He winked as he expertly tipped the bottles.

A blush crept up your cheeks along with the one the liquor had put there. You were gone enough on his behavior and your last few drinks that there wasn’t much to hold you back anymore before you blurted, “Does that include dinner with me next Thursday?”

Curtis stopped in his tracks, slamming the bottles down on the counter with a loud thud that startled you. His face was almost unreadable. Sure, before tonight, you felt like he may not have seemed interested, but in your small chats over drink orders throughout this evening, that changed. You didn’t read this wrong, did you?

You watched intently as his gaze which was fixed on the worn wooden table shifted upward to look at you through his eyelashes. Those gorgeous, long eyelashes. A true, genuine smile was on his lips. He had no idea you felt the same way as him. “Yeah. I think it does.”

Bonus A/N: bartender!Curtis will return in the second part of this, and we’ll see much more about his herb garden and secret treats for his girl. This is the first thing I’ve written in months, so cut me some slack, okay, but I’d love your feedback in all forms.

Taglist: @hawkeyes-queen @ronearoundblindly

[saiyanprincessswanie]

SaiyanPrincessSwanie Reading List Week 231 & 232

A/N: Happy New Year! Here is the first reading list of 2025.

Thank you again to those who recommended fanfics or tagged me. 💜 This week had me reading 25 fics. Absolutely amazing fanfics here. This has been so much fun for me and I hope you enjoy my reading lists.

As always these will be listed in no particular order. None of these stories are mine. I’m just signal-boosting them. The author is listed next to the title. My goal is to signal boost writers and spread positivity in the community. 💜💜

Click HERE to see what I will or won’t read. This is very important.

Click HERE for past reading lists.

For my Masterlist click HERE.

Please make sure you’re reading the warnings on every story. They range from dark to fluff. Do Not Read if you are under 18 years old. These stories are meant for adults only. You’re responsible for your own media consumption.

Header by @fictional-affairs

Page-break by @whimsicalrogers

If you can, please reblog these lists so they can reach more people on Tumblr.

I love you 3000 💜 Missy

Where do we go from here - (Ari x Reader) - @saiyanprincessswanie

We're Gonna Burn (Part 3) - (Bucky x Reader) - @tuiccim

Lumberjack Tales - The Hairy Bear (3) - (Ari x Reader) - @holylulusworld

A Little Comfort - (Bucky x Reader) - @tuiccim

The Imperfect Couple - 10 - (Bucky x Reader) - @deliciousangelfestival

The Imperfect Couple - 11 - (Bucky x Reader) - @deliciousangelfestival

Take a Chance of Me - (Skinny!Steve Rogers) - @caplanbuckybarnes

Mortifying Monday Thought! - (Steve x Reader) - @mercurial-chuckles

Wibbly-Wobbly Wednesday Thought - (Bucky x Reader x Steve) - @mercurial-chuckles

Found - (Brock x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan

The first time he saw her - (Brock x OFC) - @nekoannie-chan

Lost In You - (Bucky x Reader) - @jobean12-blog

Acting Out - (Ari x Reader) - @labella420

Hold You Tight: Part 12 - (Bucky x Reader) - @navybrat817

Hold You Tight: Part 13 - (Bucky x Reader) - @navybrat817

let's not - (Mickey Henry x Reader) - @nickfowlerrr

Smutty Shorts-Thanksgiving Edition - (Ransom x Kitten) - @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

Smutty Shorts-Thanksgiving Edition - (Curtis x Honey) - @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

It's Cold Outside - (Bucky x Reader) - @navybrat817

Mercy 4 - (Multiple Characters x Reader) - @stargazingfangirl18

Home Sweet Home - Chp 9 - (Brock/ OFC) - @talia-rumlow

Morning Wood - (Steve x Reader) - @angrythingstarlight

Perfect Christmas Tree - (Bucky x Reader) - @buck-star

When Lloyd Gets Sick - @thezombieprostitute

HIS FIORE - PART I - (Steve x Reader) - @mercurial-chuckles

[navybrat817]

Any stripper AU info? 🥺

Well...

Steve will eat you out for hours. He'll feast if you let him. Soak his face. He loves that. You're still a quivering mess when he finally fucks you and draws more orgasms from you.

Bucky is all about that praise. Tells you how well you take him, what a good girl you are, how perfect your wet pussy feels. Loves to grip your chin and make you look at him when he showers you with that praise. Doesn't want you to hide from him, especially when you tip over the edge.

Ari has a size kink. He's one of the tallest, if not the tallest, strippers. Taller than you, stronger than you, and he's going to overpower you. And, yes, your eyes widen when you see the size of his cock. And, oh, does he know how to use it.

Hal loves fucking you in front of mirrors or anything that shows a reflection. Not to watch himself, but watch you. Any position he can get you in and still see your face when he gets you off makes him happy.

Curtis is going to bite you. Not hard enough for break your skin, but enough that you feel it. Your neck, your shoulder, you'll feel those teeth when you clench around him.

Clark seems reserved when he isn't performing, so it's a slight surprise that he's into bondage. He can't help himself. Something about you being restrained while he takes you apart drives him wild.

Jax is a bit of a wildcard as it depends on his mood, but you're guaranteed to be in for a good night no matter what. Rough, gentle, on your back or front, he's getting you off. And you love every second of it.

...I genuinely don't know if this is the info you wanted, but... Love and thanks! ❤️

And I need to give this AU a name.

[kqutie]

THE PRINCESS' SEVEN MERCENARIES

CHAPTER TWO : A FATEFUL MEETING

relations. : cevans various/reader -- steve rogers/reader ; curtis everett/reader ; ari levinson/reader ; lloyd hansen/reader ; andy barber/reader ; jake jensen/reader ; ransom drysdale/reader

chpt. sum. : your stepmother wants you dead but you're able to make a swift escape with the help of the huntsman who was meant to kill you. into the woods you go in search of a new and better life!

tags. : these men don't know what they're in for; lloyd and ransom don't trust you ; andy needs a hug ; disney princess reader ; snow white and the seven dwarves au ; fairy tale au ; fluff ; domestic fluff ; a/b/o universe but it's not the central point ; disney princess reader and her seven sexy mercenaries hehe~

length. : 4.4k

← one. a swift escape | navi. | series masterlist

“Even more peculiar,” Andy whispers as the group of four step into the front door of their quaint cottage, only to immediately smell the scent of a delicious meal saturating the air. The mercenaries were unaccustomed to their home having any form of ‘lived-in’ smell, owing to their packed schedules and demanding occupations. For the majority of their days, they were so preoccupied with their current assignment that they couldn’t even bask in the feeling of having an actual home for once. Hence, the fragrant aroma in the air was a pleasant surprise. 

“Smells good,” Curtis comments as Lloyd swiftly moves to the bottom of the stairs, ready to eliminate whoever intruded on his—their home!

“Let’s get this fucker already,” Lloyd snaps under his breath and takes the lead in the search upstairs. Behind him, Curtis nods back at Steve and Andy before splitting off silently by the staircase. 

There have been many ambushes on their group, in part, due to their line of work but Steve has never been so flummoxed by an ambush attempt before. Was it even an ambush? It was difficult to keep such an alert mindset when nothing seemed overly suspicious. There wasn’t any dubious tension in the air nor was there a haunting stillness about the environment, in fact—

“What’s that smell?” Steve questions, teetering on the boundary between alert and heedless. 

“The food?” Andy provides only to be met with a negative. 

“There’s something else in the air…”

Another curious silence is shared between the two mercenaries as they traverse their living space. From memory, due to the lack of lighting, they gather that they’ve made it halfway through the living room already yet nothing has happened. Disregarding their muted steps across the wooden floors, their subdued breaths and the rustling of their clothes, there’s simply nothing but stillness and peace in the air. 

“Nothin’ up here,” Lloyd’s voice suddenly buzzes through everyone’s earpiece and breaks the, somewhat, taut atmosphere. Both good news and bad news depending on who it was directed to, and whatever the hell was actually happening, “Curt and I are heading down now,”

“Conservatory’s clear, we’re moving to the kitchen,” Ari chimes in just as Steve and Andy pick up on mute footfalls making their way to the entrance of their cooking and dining area. The trio coming in from the garden entrance refrain from drawing attention to the peculiar sight of their clean laundry hanging from the washing lines. Even though it was bizarre, it remained a largely innocuous sight. 

“I’ve never heard of an intruder who does our laundry…” Ransom had commented as Ari and Jake hummed in agreement beside him. 

“Turned off the fire,” Jake helpfully inputs, indicating that his group have now entered the kitchen space. 

“So helpful, Jake,” Ransom sarcastically comments, the roll of his eyes obvious in his tone. 

“It could have been a bomb,” their technician argues back and barely resists the urge to raise his voice. 

“A bomb that smells like stew? That’s a first,”

Before Jake and Ransom begin a petty fight, Ari silences them both with a well-placed, cold stare. Usually a gentle giant, along with Curtis, it wasn’t common for Ari’s temper to make even a slight appearance, so whenever there was a small sign of it, everyone shut their mouths and righted themselves. It was difficult considering the majority collectively shared the same second gender (alpha) with Jake and Ransom being the only Betas, but that’s why they were in such high demand. The majority’s innate dominance and survival instincts worked in their favour. And, with Jake and Ransom to balance out the group as betas who dominated in their own separate skill sets, the group’s services only proved more favourable. Combined, they were a formidable force and in high demand. It was unfortunate that their main clients were very unsavoury characters. This more recent one was their only decent client so far.  

“So that’s what that peculiar smell is,” Steve comments, his shoulders lowering in disbelief and respite as he finally spots your bundled figure curled up on their living room sofa. Everyone’s attention is drawn to their captain, his comment and loosened tone steadily releasing the tension in his group mates’ taught figures. 

“An omega?” Andy affirms with slightly widened eyes, “What’s she doing here?” an omega with a high affinity for magic… Andy resumes the thought in his head, remembering Jake’s earlier analysis, and looks over at Steve, who shares his thoughts telepathically. 

Light from the kitchen drapes a warm glow over your bundled-up form as a nearby window shines moonlight across your delicate features – the only thing they’re able to see of you. Slowly, the group from the kitchen moved to stand in the archway through to the living room before splitting off to guard all exit points. No stranger was to be underestimated. With sharp eyes, they observe whatever little features they’re able to discern from their separate vantage points. Their curiosity slowly rises but with their trust in Steve, their captain, and the religious practice of their routine operations, they find it best to stay back and let those closest to you handle the upcoming confrontation.  

“What the fuck is this bitch doing in our house?” Lloyd materialises out of the darkness, his eyes and pinched expression indicating his rough intentions. The alpha doesn’t discriminate between male, female, non-binary, second gender presentation, age, social status, occupation or anything remotely indicative of an individual’s identity because he merely doesn’t care. If you’ve done anything to offend him, he’s not going to stand for it – he’ll beat you down until you’re eating dirt. 

“She’s small,” Curtis comments from behind his enraged mercenary partner. 

“I don’t care, she needs to go!” Lloyd reaches forward but his rough hands are pushed away by Andy, who effectively manipulates Lloyd back so that Steve can kneel by your head and shake you awake.  

A large hand shakes your shoulder and forces you into gradual consciousness. For a moment, you rub your eyes and grumble tiredly before your current situation finally dawns on you and a gasp escapes your lips. Suddenly alert, you sit up and lock gazes with a beautiful blue set. However, you quickly realise that this handsome, clean-shaven blonde with the ocean in his eyes wasn’t the only one present in the room. Your eyes connect with six other figures scattered about the space, who are openly observing your figure as well. 

All the attention makes a heat rise in your neck as your heart begins to race. All of them were handsome in their own way and stood a great deal taller than you, with broad shoulders, muscular arms, slim waists and thick thighs. You can’t believe men like this actually existed. Not even the knights patrolling the perimeter of the castle stacked up to the select few before you.

You finally look back at the blonde man in front of you, who has no space to say anything when you hurriedly blurt out your well-rehearsed, opening speech, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude,” the blonde waits for you to continue, no longer appearing to want to say anything and allowing you to finish speaking, “I just really needed a place to stay and, perhaps, some directions to the nearest village tomorrow?” behind him, his friends look towards one another, silently conversing about the situation, “I-I promise I won’t stay long…a-and as an apology, I made you dinner?” your words rang with uncertainty. Biting down on your bottom lip was evidence enough of your anxiety. No intruder with the intent to kill would look so anxious over such a demure request. 

But it could all be an act…

“Well, I suppose we can accommodate you for the night,” Steve concludes with a soft smile as Lloyd’s complaints get muffled by Curtis’ large hand. He didn’t want to alert you of their operations, so it’s best to appear like a normal group of men living together peacefully in the forest, “but I’m afraid we don’t have an extra room upstairs so you’ll have to make do with the sofa…” Steve isn’t usually one to lose focus but finds his thoughts slowly straying the longer he looks into your eyes and observes the sparkling delight shining in them. His mention of allowing you to stay only seemed to make them dazzle more. 

“Oh! It’s no trouble! Your sofa is very comfortable,” you chirp so innocently and happily that every man in the room gapes in awe of you. Lloyd is about to scoff at your aggregability but is cut off when you quickly hop onto your feet and rush into the kitchen, effectively interrupting his big, petulant display of displeasure. “It seems like you’ve all had a long day so you must be hungry, let me serve you dinner,” they watch as you pull a sheepish expression when approaching the stove, “I hope you don’t mind that I used your kitchen and your food to cook,”

If you’re telling the truth it should bode well for them. Steve nods singularly at Curtis who immediately looks into their food storage to see if there’s anything missing. When Curtis can confirm that there was produce missing, he returns Steve’s silent nod. This was a good sign, although it doesn’t fully absolve you from a poisoning attempt — it would be even more suspicious if you used your own ingredients and feigned goodwill with the excuse of not wanting to ‘steal’ from their food storage.   

“As long as we finally get to have a warm meal at home, you can cook up everything in our pantry,” Jake grins boyishly, which Steve mentally thanks him for. Trust Jake to break the ice and avoid any awkwardness with his saccharine charisma. The paramour of the group on missions is usually Ransom but that’s for missions only — for instances like this that are off-duty and could likely lead to awkward interplay, Jake has just the right charm to keep things going in a good direction. Their magi-tech genius sometimes goes so far as to take the awkwardness on for himself and draw attention away from the rest of the group – it’s come in handy multiple times but Steve doesn’t believe Jake sees this quality for what is. Ransom certainly does and takes full advantage of occasionally recruiting Jake for some of his machiavellian assignments. 

As you potter about the kitchen space, the men take up their assigned seats at the long dining table. There was enough space for everyone, even you. As the captain, Steve naturally takes up the head of the table, leaving the only remaining chair at the other end of the table. Across each other, the mercenaries meet eyes, silently conversing and trying to convey their opinions of you. They’ve been a group for so long that it’s not hard to observe everyone’s standing. Jake doesn’t seem to mind, in fact, he’s pleasantly surprised and happily accepts the circumstance. Steve, Andy, Curtis and Ari remain nonchalant about the situation, their feelings never really tipping to one side. Lloyd remains visibly irate whilst Ransom appears to have calmed down a bit, however, a disgruntled arch remains on his lips. 

Steve can tell that everyone’s exhausted. Even Lloyd. Their days are often very taxing so it’s hard to cook a warm meal when they get home. Ari and Andy are the only decent cooks among them but, by the time they make it back to the cottage, sometimes separately, they don’t have the energy to do anything else other than converse about tomorrow’s steps forward. Every night ends with getting to sleep on unsatisfied stomachs and lingering displeasures, only to wake up the following day and do it again. This is all they know and it’s hard to break the routine. Everyone’s accustomed to finally letting their guard down as soon as they get back home atop the exhaustion; they can’t find it in themselves to openly protest or question their pretty, graceful little intruder like they know they should. 

“Let me heat up the bread rolls for a bit,” you pipe up softly, turning to the group with a warm smile, “but that gives you all just enough time to wash up,” they blink in surprise before most nod and oblige. Lloyd stubbornly stays in place and when Andy arches a brow at him, a silent question, Lloyd gives a short, snappy answer. 

“She can’t be trusted. I’m staying right here. I’ll go when someone else comes back and can keep an eye on her too,” 

Andy gives an understanding nod but doesn’t move to follow everyone else to their upstairs washrooms. When you look upon the two with curious eyes and an adorable (though Lloyd would never admit it) tilt to your head, Andy offers a reassuring smile.         

“There isn’t enough space in the washroom upstairs for all of us to go at once so Lloyd and I will stay here and wait our turn,”

Accepting the explanation you return your attention to the bread rolls. Placing a damp but clean towel over the array, you open the oven and bend down to put the tray inside. Andy has the decency to avert his eyes but not Lloyd. He eyes your bent-over form with a snarl, determined not to fall for your innocent endearingness, clothed in a plain but complementary dress, covered by a cosy, cable-knit cardigan. You’re not cute or pretty or worth his attention — he isn’t a dunce and he won’t make a fool of himself over some woman.  He’s seen this show and dance before, the innocent, damsel-in-distress omega that needs help from an alpha. It’s such a cliche display, Lloyd can’t believe he hasn’t openly disparaged your antics yet. 

Andy, on the other hand, finds himself wishing for something like this to become more commonplace. It’s a blissful dream he cherishes – to be able to have a love that he can come home to after a hard day’s work and be spoiled by domestic bliss. Someone to bring flowers to, someone to work hard for, someone to look forward to seeing at the end of each and every day. Seeing you glide through the kitchen with the skirt of your dress billowing behind you makes him want to sigh in contentedness and dismay all at the same time. He knows he isn’t the only one out of their group who wishes for stability and an easy life like this. It’s impossible for them to even dream of this simple joy. But getting a small glimpse of this domestic life brings about an urge in Andy. It makes him want to push and fight to attain such candid happiness – something that feels easy and euphoric, his own paradise on earth, shared with someone special. 

“That’s your name?” you ask innocently, placing a large underplate beside the vase of flowers at the dining table before moving to retrieve a cloth for transferring the stew.

“Yeah, Lloyd Hansen,” the grump confirms. 

“Hansen?” Lloyd tenses at your piqued interest. He remains taut when you turn around with your ever-present, warm smile, carefully lifting the crockpot of stew over to the table. 

“What about it?” Lloyd snaps defensively, ignoring the warning clench of Andy’s fingers over the slope of his shoulder. 

“I just knew a very kind man named Hansen,” you sheepishly admit, hurrying to gloss over the topic at the sight of Lloyd’s inquisitive brow raise. Introducing yourself simply, you then turn your attention to Andy, who also introduces himself in return. 

“My name is Andrew, Andrew Barber, but everyone just calls me Andy,” 

Lloyd snarls when you lie about it being a pleasure to meet them but is swept away when Andy roughly pulls out of his chair. The others had begun to filter back into the dining room. It was the pair’s turn to wash up and head upstairs as they distantly heard you introduce yourself to the rest of the group behind them. 

“Let me help you with that,” Ari helpfully sets the table with you as the others take their seats once more and introduce themselves one by one. The bearded, giant of a man smiles faintly when you thank him for his assistance, finding that he rather enjoys seeing your smile and prettily beaming eyes directed at him — even if it’s just for a second or two. “I’m Ari, by the way,” You smile at how lovely his name sounds and freely tell him so. He seemed shocked at your vivacious demeanour but doesn’t comment on it, happy to indulge in your refreshing mannerisms. 

Steve was the clean-shaven blonde that sat at the head of the table; you assume he’s the big man in charge despite his much gentler appearance compared to some of the other characters sitting about the table. Curtis is the gruff-looking one who politely takes off a woollen cap to reveal his buzzed hair; you gauge that he’s the silent, observant type. Ransom is unlike the others in his fashion, dressed in a comfy, cable knit sweater; he looked approachable but there was something about him that made you second guess yourself. You don’t quite know how to feel about that. Lastly, there was Jake who grins freely and seems a little more energetic than the others around him. His good mood is contagious and helps you feel at ease.   

Everyone watches as you take out the bread rolls and go about the table, carefully placing a roll on their side plates, your smile never dropping. The rest were placed in a basket at the table within everyone’s reach. Plenty were left so you reassured them that they could grab another if they were feeling extra peckish. 

“Thank you,” Steve voices sincerely as everyone eyes the delicious meal laid out before them. One by one, they had begun serving themselves a portion of the beef stew you had thoughtfully prepared. It was all from the same pot so they plan on waiting for you to take the first bite, avoiding a sly poisoning attempt. “It’s been far too long since we’ve had a warm meal to come home to,”

“It’s really no trouble,” you smile down at your lap, taking a seat at the other end of the table, “it’s the least I can do for your kindness in letting me stay the night despite being a complete stranger,” 

Everyone observes your words and actions with great care. They have an eye for deceit; Ransom has taught them all about the common tricks he plays to earn the trust of those they need to fool on missions, however, nothing about your actions so far appear fraudulent to them. It was strange. Perhaps it’s because they’re trained to think this way that they have such lingering doubts about your innocence. 

It isn’t long until Andy and Lloyd return to the table and fill their bowls too. “Apologises for the delay,” Andy is the only one with the decency to express his regret, Lloyd simply grumbles under his breath. 

You don’t seem to catch on to their plot of watching you take the first bite and wait for any adverse side effects to occur before they can deem the food safe enough to consume themselves. Thankfully, you taste the bread roll and stew all at once, dipping a piece of the roll in the stew to taste together. That’s all they needed and finally allowed themselves to savour the bliss of having a homecooked meal after a long, hard day of work. 

Lloyd hates to admit it but he appreciates the hearty dinner. It’s an indulgence he happily dismisses his earlier wariness for, wanting to enjoy the meal to the fullest. He can get back to being bitter about the situation and you, later. Curtis manages to smile modestly at the warmth the stew fills him from within. It’s been so long since they’ve indulged in such an innocent, domestic pleasure. Perhaps you were a blessing in disguise, put there to quench their deprived existence. Andy, again is given a soothing balm to soothe one of his deepest desires – a happy home. He finds he’s unable to look up and face you, knowing that his expression will leave him and his yearning vulnerable to everyone’s criticisms. Jake and Ransom meet eyes across the table and grin at each other. As the only two betas, they have a more intimate kinship between them and both can tell that the other is incredibly satisfied with the situation. Yes, they have petty fights but they agree on a lot of things too, this tasty meal being one of those things. It didn’t start off ideal but this was a repose everyone had been craving. And they were more than eager to indulge in the moment too. 

Steve observes everyone at the table with Ari. They understand that the type of occupation they have aligns with a lifestyle that typically doesn’t have this type of scenario playing at the end of every day. This is surely something they would cherish for a long time. As time passes, they slowly realise how misplaced their judgement and wariness were. Finally, they can relieve themselves of that burden and fully enjoy the rare evening.     

Slowly regaining their strength throughout the meal, everyone settles down and begins to ease up for the night. The chatter fluctuates, sometimes it’s loud, sometimes it’s quiet but everyone goes for seconds and thirds before you can even get through half of your plate. 

“So how did you get here?” Trust Jake to ruin the mood in such a way. It’s the obvious question on everyone’s minds and was asked it in the most innocuous tone possible, only to be met by the most awkward silence to ever fall over the group as everyone turns their focus on you.  

You contemplated telling them the truth or not. These men deserved your honesty but you don’t know if it would result in further danger, your stepmother had a lot of magical artefacts nobody knew about; you can’t make careless decisions. And you weren’t about to risk yourself or these kind men’s safety so you go for something in between — a half-truth, “...I ran away”

“From what?” Ransom demands in an almost threatening tone. He’s back on the defensive, along with Lloyd, the two of them eyeing your shrinking form disparagingly. Jake, seeing the reaction of his teammates, feels immense guilt for having put you in a difficult situation and looks to the only person he trusts to placate the tension, Steve.  

“Calm down, Ran,” Steve sends him a warning glare despite his level voice. 

“No, I think he has a point and if she’s going to stay the night then I think we’re owed an explanation,” Lloyd’s eyes don’t leave you, his gaze fixed, cold and untrusting. 

“I uhh…” you begin to get nervous. You don’t want to reveal that you’re the princess but you’re feeling the pressure from all the attention atop Lloyd and Ransom’s demands. Everyone can see that you’re fighting with yourself and expect you to finally confess to something. However, rather than reveal the truth or lie further, you go for the third option, “…I-I think I should just go…” with a weak smile, you get up from the table — free to do so without protest as the mercenaries are either shocked or vehemently glaring at Lloyd and Ransom. 

Your bowl of beef stew is only half eaten and your bread roll has a few bites left in it. Nobody can meet your eyes as you hurriedly cross the dining room to the living space with your head down and take back your basket from behind the sofa you fell asleep on. You don’t bother with collecting the perishable foods you had stashed in their cool storage, thinking it a lost cause. For the final time, you look at them through the large archway connecting the living space and dining area, “I’m so sorry for the intrusion but thank you for letting me stay this long. Please enjoy the rest of the food. I umm… I baked some banana bread and made whipped cream to have with for dessert,” you’re about to turn and leave, bidding them farewell when you’re stopped by a mountain — Curtis stands in your path, blocking your escape 

“They’re being pricks so their opinions don’t matter,” his voice is much more gentle than you imagined, “you can stay,” the bearish man takes advantage of your hesitation and leads you back to your seat with a large hand on your lower back. He pulls the chair out for you and tucks it back in as you sit down again. You can’t meet anyone’s eyes, the tension in the air, still too high.

“You can stay regardless of whether you tell us your reasoning or not,” Steve voices, meeting your gaze kindly when you snap your head up in surprise. It’s obvious to all parties (except for Lloyd and Ransom) know that you don’t mean them any harm so they’re happy to let the incident pass and offer up their home. It isn’t even their permanent residence, only the one given to them by their employer on the conditions of their year contract. 

“Ransom and Lloyd are a little possessive but their rough edges aren’t very dangerous,” Ari offers, the insight on the two characters no longer seems necessary after the interactions you’ve had with them. However, it was reassuring for it to be said aloud by someone, “Just ignore them, we all do” his kind smile beneath his thick beard urges you to offer a hesitant one in return.    

Ransom eyes Andy who doesn’t acknowledge his obvious glare. As the negotiator of the group, Andy was well-equipped with the skills to weasel some admittance from you but he clearly has no interest in getting any sort of information. Andy remains a silent observer. He’s aware of Ransom’s dismay but doesn’t acknowledge him, making the man’s stare turn icy. Too righteous Ransom scoffs in his head. Everyone knows about each other’s past. Clearly, Andy was still especially soft around women, those who were gentle and kind, the homey type, omegas especially. You were the perfect image of that so there’s no hope of Ransom ever getting Andy to do anything. 

Great, just great, the pathetic, sappy asshole. Lloyd grumbles internally, he was a witness to the silent interaction between Ransom and Andy, and had arrived to the same conclusion. Their negotiator isn’t budging. The only person able to influence Andy would be Steve but you have their captain wrapped around your little finger too. Hopeless! The lot of them!  

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a/n : how did you like the chapter? what did you think of our boys? this is my side account so i don't know how updates are going to be like but i hope you enjoy the series so far! more fluff to come soon!

taglist : @imyourbratzdoll

p.s : i have a queen in my taglist…the literal writer who inspired this series the most is on my taglist!!!!! MAMA IM FAMOUS!