#dark chris evans

[chxrryhansen]

౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐑𝐘

Pairing; Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader

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

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

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

₊♡₊˚ 🎀・₊✧

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

Until Fury resigned that was.

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

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

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

Not that you had a choice anyway.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Get on your knees."

"Wh-What?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“F-Fuck yes! H-Harder daddy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[whereireid]

𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐍 | masterlist

pairing: senator!steve rogers x fem!reader

⍟ — nsfw content ahead. soft!dom steve. married life. housewife kink. oral [f receiving]. degradation of reader.

Summary: Your husband, Senator Steve Rogers, has been acting strange recently. He makes it up to you after he catches you snooping.

You don’t want to snoop on your husband.

Honest, you don’t.

Sometimes, though, duty calls. It feels like a crime to be in Steve’s office, perched at his desk, attempting to hack into his computer.

You’ve tried three different passwords, now. The first, the name of your daughter, and her date of birth — BeauRogers2012. The second, your anniversary — 19October2007. And, finally, the name of the family dog — CooperRogers.

Nothing. There’s nothing. All to no avail, the screen lighting a shade of red with each incorrect guess, your lips tugging down into a frown as you try to pinpoint exactly what his password could be.

If it’s not Beau, and it’s not you, and it’s not the family dog… then what is it?

Your eyes scan his office, desperate for a moment of realisation. You want something to click, your eyes dragging from a photograph of him and Bucky, to the miniature American flag which sits on his desk.

That’s it.

107thInfantryRegiment.

The computer lets you in. Steve’s desktop background is a photograph of you, him and Beau — baby Beau, curled in her daddy’s arms, asleep, in a pumpkin patch.

You pause. You feel bad, snooping, hesitating as you stare at the pixelated desktop background.

You feel awful, but you have to know what he’s getting up to.

Your lips press together as you swallow away the tightness in your throat, dragging the mouse towards his emails. Before you press down, you hesitate — Steve has never given you a reason not to trust him.

Yet, you’re in, now. You might as well look whilst you’re there, and you’re glad that you do, because a particular name piques your interest as you snoop through his emails.

Sharon Carter.

Steve’s ex-assistant, although you’d always assumed she was more than that. She helped your husband climb to the position of Senator — she was his number one fan, more obsessed with him than you.

Your brows knit together. Steve had told you that him and Sharon no longer speak, as a result of her switching to the Republican to spite him. This — these emails, which go back for months — is unfathomable evidence that he’s been lying to you. Your throat feels cotton dry as you frantically scroll, unable to comprehend that they’ve been communicating for months without you knowing.

“What are you doing?”

Fear cracks through your body like a whip. You feel like a thin sheet of ice, cold flooding through your body as your eyes dart up from the computer screen, focused on your husband, who appears unamused by what he’s found.

“So, what are you doing?” Steve repeats when you don’t answer, his lips pursed as he stares at you. The suit he’s wearing is somewhat tight on his arms, and you can see his muscles flex beneath his clothes. “Be a big girl and use your words, honey.”

“You’re — you’re messaging Sharon Carter.”

His eyebrows quirk upwards in amusement. “You went through my emails,” he comments, “without my permission.”

“You’re messaging Sharon Carter,” you repeat, your voice coming out a whisper.

The look that he gives you is degrading. It’s a look of pity — his jaw ticks slightly as he cocks his head, his tongue darting over his plump, pink lips, leaving a glistening sheen in its wake. “And you’re going through my emails,” he reiterates, pushing himself off of the doorframe. “Without my permission.”

“Are you cheating on me?”

An amused expression flitters over Steve’s face as he approaches you. You feel timid in his chair, his large frame overbearing as he looms over you, the blue irises of his eyes impossibly sheathed by his black and blown pupils.

“Cheating?” He asks, beginning to lower himself to your height. You brows furrow in confusion as he kneels in front of you, his hands placing themselves on your knees. “No. Why? Did you think that I was?”

“Yes.”

“Liar,” Steve whispers from beneath you, your skin prickling with goosebumps as his fingers run over the pleated fabric of your skirt. “You just wanted to know what I’ve been doing.”

You push at Steve’s head, forcing him to look up at you. You frown, a twisted warmth pooling inside of your stomach as his hand caresses the plump flesh of your thighs. “Yeah. You’ve been doing her.”

He snorts. “If I wanted Barbie, I would’ve had Barbie.” His hand beckons your thighs apart, and you flush as his hums in content. “No underwear. Whore.”

Your face flushes with warmth. "That’s what you like, isn’t it?”

Steve grins, his fingers parting your folds softly, his knuckle pressing against your swollen clit. You try to kill the moan which climbs up your throat before it can slip past your lips, but it refuses to die. “Like music to my ears,” he comments, his stubble grazing your skin as he peppers deliberate kisses to your thighs, his tongue a cool stimulant to your hot skin, “you’re a naughty girl, you know? Going through my things and then getting all worked up over what you find.”

You can’t bare to look down at his smug face. His blue eyes twinkle as he gazes up at you, and you force your eyes shut, the delicious, dirty feeling of desire brooding inside of you. It pulls at your heart and burns wildly inside of you, only to be smothered by the feeling of his fingers gliding through your folds.

“Aren’t you going to tell me what you found?”

You shake your head, your eyes scrunching shut as his tongue finally makes contact with your heat. “Oh, God,” you whimper as he glides the muscle through your folds, his fingers pushing inside of your cunt.

“Not God. Just Steve.”

His lips twitch, tugging upwards with a smile. Pleasure rides through you in a gentle wave as his tongue makes contact with your clit, his motions gentle as he suckles on the sensitive bundle of nerves.

It feels so deliciously wrong. You’re in his office, sat in his chair, with him between your legs. He wasn’t even meant to find you here — you were supposed to be in the kitchen when he got home, but you’d lost track of time.

“Since you won’t tell me, I’ll make an assumption, and I want you to tell me if I’m right.” His voice is gravely, rumbling against your cunt, and you shiver as his fingers curl inside of you. “You went through my emails. You saw Sharon Carter’s name and you had to click, and you read them in detail and you found information.”

“Yes,” you say shakily, groaning as his nose nuzzles into your pelvic bone, his tongue rolling small circles into your sensitive bud. “Yes, I read them. She’s — she’s a bitch and I don’t want you talking to her.”

His brows quirk upwards, his fingers carefully scissoring your tight cunt open. You clench down around him, the pointed look he’s shouting you making you tense. “She’s my spy. Why else would she have switched to Republican last minute?”

“Because you married me and she wishes it was her.”

A wave of pleasure ripples through you as he suckles on your clit, his fingers heavenly as they roll inside of you. “Is she the one getting her cunt eaten in my office, honey?” When you don’t answer, he hums, his voice muffled as he continues to roll his tongue up and down your sticky, wet folds, “no, she’s not, so stop being a brat and let me finish speaking.”

As if to make a point, his fingers still inside of you, and your chest burns with disappointment. “Okay. I’ll stop being a brat,” you submit to him, your voice shaking slightly as you buck your pelvis towards his hand.

“Good girl." His praise makes you shiver, a delicious pleasure crackling through you as his fingers contain their steady motions, his lips peppering soft kisses against your heat intermittently

“The information that you found is very important people, only meant to be seen by people in government.” A delicious pleasure cracks through you like a whip as his fingers glide through your glistening folds, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he rolls his thumb over your sensitive clit. “And, honey, you're not in government. You've got too much of a dumb baby brain for that."

You whine, your legs trembling involuntary as Steve licks up a deliberate stripe up your cunt, his tongue flattening against your clit. "I'm not dumb," you protest weakly, your thighs tensing as his fingers curl inside of you, the lewd squelching of your cunt echoing around his office walls.

Your body becomes electric with sparks, exploding with ecstasy as his tongue licks stripes up and down your slick. It's so intimate, so gentle — his movements are precise, your legs jolting at every movement, every lick.

"Really? You're not?" Steve pulls away, tutting from below you. "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought that only dumb wives went through their husband's stuff without permission."

"I'm sorry," you say.

"You're not," he replies, his tongue flat as he swirls his muscle around your swollen bud, "but that's okay, honey. I don't expect my wife and her dumb, baby brain to feel sorry for me. I'm the man of this house. I don't need feeling sorry for."

His kisses grow sloppy, his nose pressing heavily into your pelvis. You let out a shaky breath, your stomach flipping as Steve's fingers glide in and out of your cunt. A moan catches in your throat, and you're unsure of whether or not it actually escapes your lips or dies before it gets to do so.

Steve's movements are skilled, deliberate. You melt into the office chair, the leather fabric growing slick beneath you as you softly behind to grind against his face. He's slow and teasing, his tongue swirling around you bud, nipping at it softly. The pinching pain makes you gasp, your breath hitching in your throat as he groans against your cunt.

"Come on, honey. I know you want to let go," he purrs against your cunt, the sensation sending shivers up your spine. "I know you're not holding that much of a grudge against me that you're denying yourself of an orgasm."

You pout. He's right — of course he's right, he's your husband and he knows what's best for you. You finally allow yourself to relax, fully, a soft whimper slipping past your lips as Steve's movements makes your stomach tighten.

And then, it happens. You grow tired of holding back, needy and desperate, and Steve's fingers curl inside of you again, and you let go. Your slick paints his face, your legs trembling as he laps at your heat, his groans sending sparks to your core.

By the time he pulls away, you feel weak. The sight of him only makes you grow weaker, his chin glistening with your slick, his eyes black and blown, a sultry grin tugging at the corner of his lips. His hand runs over his lips and he hums, satisfied with the orgasm that he drew from you.

"I'm sorry, honey. You should have never seen those emails, or the documents attached to them. They're not for you to be concerned about." His hand runs over your thighs, his motions gentle and soft as he caresses your skin. Steve's lips purse, his voice dropping dangerously low as he speaks. "But if you ever go through my emails again, you'll be in serious trouble. You got that, honey?"

Your body grows stiff as he reaches past you to turn the computer off, his lips nestling against your head in the process. The kiss he plants to your forehead is soft and gentle, and you smile up at him.

“Yes, Steve.”

You nod your head like an obedient little wife, and he smiles down at you as he does so.

Domesticated bliss keeps him sane.

[lilacevans]

𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐝𝐞: 𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞'𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞. ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

✧.*ೃ⁀➷ pete's place | the intro | opening night | the playlist ༊*·˚

✧.* : ̗̀➛ curtis everett x female!reader (non-descriptive) ✧.* : ̗̀➛ word count: 177 ✧.* : ̗̀➛ warnings: choking, spit, curtis being curtis ✧.* : ̗̀➛ requested by: @dreadfulxives18 ✧.* : ̗̀➛ notes: enjoy my filthy babiessssss. 𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑡𝑖𝑠' 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ༊*·˚

*this is an 18+ space. minors are not welcome here. *this is a dark au. there are no happy endings here.

Curtis’ fingers flexed around your throat, each digit pushing into the column of your neck. Your fingers wrapped around his wrist as your lungs constricted and begged for air, but the ache between your legs cried for him to squeeze harder.

Your lips parted, letting a needy whimper escape. Curtis chuckled darkly as he bent to press a wet kiss to your open mouth before he pulled back slightly and you watched with wide eyes as his jaw slightly moved, hearing the saliva gather against his tongue as you were forced down onto your knees.

You knew better than to close your mouth, so with the aid of the hand still tight around your throat you tipped your head back. His spit landed with a sick muted slap against your tongue as you were about to swallow, two thick fingers toyed with your parted lips before sliding to the back of your throat.

You squeezed your eyes shut which earned you a harsher tension around your neck, making you gag around the digits as Curtis eye’s darkened.

[munstysmind]

WARNING/S: non-con, rape, loss of virginity, rough sex, rough vaginal sex, rough oral sex, rough anal sex, unprotected sex, multiple men, blood, assault, abuse, slavery, trauma, threats of forced prostitution, mentions of kidnapping/abduction, mentions of death, mentions or murder, mentions of injuries, mentions of suicide. If I’ve missed anything, please let me know.

DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT

THIS IS A DARK FIC, DO NOT READ IF THIS TYPE OF CONTENT TRIGGERS OR OFFENDS YOU.

You and you alone are responsible for what you choose to consume online.

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORK TO BE USED IN ANY CAPACITY

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Thank you to @dragonsneversharetheirtreasure for being my ideas gremlin, and @themaradwrites for beta-ing. This wouldn’t have been written without your help.

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CH. 1 - THEIR REWARD

{54 BC}

Her heart pounds in her chest as she slowly walks down the hall towards the man she despises more than anything in this world.

Dominus Julius Fabius. Her owner. Her master.

She wishes she could stick him in the neck with a dagger and watch him bleed to death, just like all the men he condemns when he forces them into the arena.

He’s pure evil.

The kind of evil Orcus uses to make an example of. The God of punishment and the Underworld is going to have fun with her master when he passes into the afterlife.

She’s lost count of how long it’s been. Five years? Probably more, if she’s being honest with herself. She doesn’t even know who she is anymore.

Except her name.

Amina.

To everyone around her, she’s a thing. An object meant to do as she’s told. No exceptions.

She runs her finger along the cold iron bolted around her neck, her slave collar.

Thirty coins. That’s what he paid for her. She didn’t know you could put a price on someone’s life but that’s what hers was worth, thirty whole coins.

“There you are girl” he growls as he grabs her wrist tightly and drags her towards a door at the end of the hall “I’m in a right mind to give you a lashing for making me wait”

“I’m sorry, they… they wanted to make sure everything was perfect” she mumbles, keeping her eyes on the floor to help hide her tears as she recalls the looks of pity on the faces of the women who got her ready.

She knows they know what her Master’s plans are, and she suspects the reason they took so long was to keep her from her fate for as long as they possibly could.

“I don’t care. Those fighters in there won me a lot of denarii today. You’re going to let them do whatever they want to you. All. Night” her master tells her, getting so close to her she can feel his warm, vile breath across her face.

“I… I’ve never…” she stammers, her eyes going wide as she realises what he’s saying.

“I know. I know you’ve never laid with a man before, they checked you when I brought you. That’s why I chose you” he says, a smirk spreading across his face. “Maybe I should put you in the Lupanar and whore you out after they’ve broken you in. Gods know you’d make me a fortune”

It takes everything in her not to turn and run as fast as she can as she swallows down the bile rising in her throat.

It would be pointless though, there’s guards everywhere. She wouldn’t make it to the end of the hall before they caught her. She’d be guaranteed a lashing too, a public one at that. Just like Vesta.

“I mean it girl. You’re theirs tonight. I don’t care if it hurts… in fact, I want it to. A lot” he whispers, pulling out a small dagger and cutting one of the shoulders of her dress, exposing her breast.

He runs the dagger tip over her nipple, pressing it into the sensitive bud until it breaks the skin, making her let out a small whimper of pain.

“If you resist, or put up a fight, you’ll be punished, and it’ll be much worse than what they’re going to do” he growls before pushing her into the room.

She can’t help but flinch as the large wooden door is slammed in her face, the echo of the metal latch being closed ringing in her ears.

She just stands there, staring at it as she takes shuddery breaths.

She knows what’s about to happen. What she’s about to go through. And there’s nothing she can do about it.

She’s trapped.

Locked in a room with three blood covered fighters.

Their reward for winning their master 5000 coin.

She’s their prize.

“Turn around” a deep voice commands, making her jump.

She closes her eyes, praying to the Gods that she wakes up from this nightmare as she slowly turns around.

She sees the man the voice belongs to and her breath catches in her throat as she fights back tears.

He’s the one who killed her brother.

Champion gladiator August.

“Name” he growls, slowly approaching her with a look similar to the lions in the arena before they attack.

“Am… Amina” she stammers, stumbling back against the door as he towers over her.

She can smell death on him. The twang of iron, of blood. Was it her brothers?

Her stomach churns at the thought and she wants to be sick.

“Amina” he repeats “honest, faithful. Beautiful name for a beautiful woman”

Under any other circumstance she might have smiled and thanked him for his compliment, just like she was taught, but not this time. She just can’t.

“I like to know their names before I take what I want” he tells her with a smirk.

He remembers them, every name. All the women he’s taken this way. Amina’s the latest entry on his ever growing list.

He grabs her dress and tears it off her body, letting the fabric crumple to the floor.

She instinctively tries to cover herself, but he stops her, prying her hands away from her body before grasping her breasts and squeezing.

A grin spreads across his face as he continues to grope her, pinching and rolling her nipples tightly between his fingers, making her whimper in pain.

The noise makes him let out a low growl from deep in his chest and his eyes go dark, almost black.

Before she can fully register what’s happening, he grabs her by the back of her neck and yanks her towards the small table on the other side of the room, forcing her onto her back.

He takes her legs behind the knees and pushes them open, exposing her to not only him, but the other two men in the room who are now standing behind him and looking over his shoulder.

Her stomach churns as she stares at the ceiling, her face burning with embarrassment as she tries to think of anything to distract her from the way he’s inspecting her.

She bites back a whimper as he touches her, his fingers playing with her most intimate area before spreading it open.

He lets out a satisfied hum, a smirk spreading across his face when he sees she’s intact, just like their Master promised.

“I’ve never had a pure one before” he says, to no one in particular as he pinches the small bundle of nerves above her opening, making her gasp loudly.

“They’re my favourite. Oh, the noises they make” one of the other men says excitedly, much to August’s annoyance.

“She’s mine, Lloyd” he growls, glaring at the man before turning his attention back to her, really looking at her for the first time since she entered the room.

And as much as she tries to look away, to look anywhere but the face of the man that’s about to brutalise her, she can't. Her green, terror filled eyes just stare at him, transfixed.

He’s seen her eyes, and that look, before. He knows he has. There’s something so familiar about them and it takes him a minute to place it. The man he killed in the arena a mere hours before. Her brother.

“You’ve got his eyes” he tells her before turning his gaze back between her legs.

She’s so caught up in the flood of emotions at what he just said that she doesn’t notice his finger pushing into her until it’s too late.

She lets out a loud yelp at the sudden pain between her legs, her body instinctively trying to close her legs and move away from the beast of a man in front of her.

He lets out an angry growl and yanks her up by her arm, turning her around and bending her over the table with so much force all the air leaves her lungs when her chest makes contact with the wooden surface.

“Don’t move” he growls, kicking her legs apart with his feet.

She grips the edge of the table, so tightly her fingers hurt, as tears well in her eyes. She prays the talk of his stamina is wrong, that it will be over quickly.

But it won’t.

When he’s done with her, there’s two more waiting.

And they have her all night…

The sound of his armour dropping onto the ground behind her makes her heart pound.

It’s happening.

Right now.

She squeezes her eyes shut, trying her best to relax when she feels him prod at her again, but it doesn’t matter.

He snaps his hips forward and tears into her with force, pulling a scream of pain from her that makes him grin.

In all the beatings she’s gotten over the years, she’s never felt pain like this.

It’s like a searing hot poker being forced into her over and over as she’s split in two.

The tears in her eyes escape and spill onto the table as he thrusts into her, over and over and over again. It feels like the more she cries, the harder his thrusts become.

“Best one I’ve had yet” he grunts as he lays over her, pressing her against the table with his full body weight, and starts grinding into her, moaning loudly in her ear.

He’s enjoying this, getting pleasure out of hurting her. How can he not? He’s a sadistic bastard!

Little does she know she’s not the first woman he’s forced himself into. It’s the whole reason he’s stuck fighting in that gods forsaken arena in the first place. And unless he dies there, she won’t be the last.

“You’re mine now, gonna take you like this whenever I want” he pants, making her let out a loud sob at the thought of him doing this to her over and over.

It all becomes too much and her stomach churns as bile rises in her throat, burning it as she chokes and coughs it up.

His moans start becoming louder as he ruts into her hard, his hips slamming her body into the table over and over and over.

“Oh Gods!” he roars, moaning loudly as his hips stutter then still before he thrusts into her as hard as he can, filling her with a strange warmth.

He says something to her, but she doesn’t hear a word of it, unable to hear anything except the loud ringing in her ears.

She lets out a loud whimper as he pulls out of her before kneeling and pushing her legs wider, smirking at the blood mixed with his spend dripping out of her.

He catches some with his fingers and pushes them inside her, forcing it back into her as she lies on the table, her entire body shaking and twitching from shock as she takes shallow, gasping breaths.

“My turn” the second of the men says, all but pushing August out of the way before grasping her by her hair and pulling her to her feet, making her cry out.

He pushes her to her knees, making quick work of removing his armour as she glances behind him at August drinking wine from a goblet and sees the size of him for the first time, enough to make Priapus himself blush.

She looks back at the second man, terror spreading through her yet again as she comes face to face with his member.

She can’t tell if he’s bigger, but it doesn’t matter. He’s going to defile her the same way August did without a care for her.

He hooks his finger into her mouth and forces it open before pushing himself in until she starts to gag.

He holds onto the sides of her head and starts thrusting, hitting the back of her throat with each snap of his hips.

A smirk spreads across his face as he moves one of his hands to the back of her head and forces her down onto him, deep throating her.

He holds her there, moaning at the feeling of the muscles in her throat squeezing him as she chokes.

“We can’t kill her, Lloyd” August warns as she starts scratching at his legs, trying desperately to get air.

He lets out a growl as he pulls himself out of her mouth and slaps her hard across the face before grabbing it and pulling her to her feet.

“You’re going to pay for that” he hisses, manhandling her onto the small bed in the corner of the room.

He climbs on after her, roughly pulling her hips up and slamming into her from behind.

“Gods, I’ve not taken a woman this good in years” he moans, throwing his head back and gripping her hips tightly as he thrusts hard, spurred on by her cries.

“I wonder if her other hole’s just as good?” August says with a smirk, leaning against the table he just had her bent over.

“Let’s find out” Lloyd replies, spitting on her ass. He pulls out and lines himself up with her tiny puckered hole before pushing himself into her, moaning loudly at the muscles squeezing him tightly in an attempt to force him out.

She lets out a shriek of pain, her body going rigid as she tries, and fails, to get away from the man violating her in a way she didn’t think was possible.

He lets out an evil laugh and pushes her face into the bed as he starts thrusting, going out of his way to hurt her as much as he can.

The noises leaving him as he uses her body for his pleasure are burned into her mind as she prays to the Gods to take her and put an end to the indescribable pain coursing through her body.

He looks down at where he’s thrusting in and out of her and smirks proudly at the sight of blood.

“It’s even better” he grunts to August, gripping her hips so tightly his nails break her skin.

“I’ll have to try it next” August says, slowly stroking himself as he watches Lloyd pound into the woman at their mercy over and over again, moaning to himself at the sound of her cries.

Lloyd lifts her hips higher, thrusting as hard as he can into her at the new angle, turning her cries into screams with every snap of his hip.

He lets out a long moan, throwing his head back as he cums hard, filling her with the same strange warmth August did.

“Gods, I’m doing that again” he pants as he slowly pulls himself out of her bloody back passage before slapping her ass, making her yelp as she collapses into the bed.

“You’ll get your chance. It’s your turn, Nick” August says, getting the attention of the third man standing on the other side of the room.

Until now, he’s not paid much attention to the events happening in the small room, trying to drown out her cries and think of anything other than what he wants to do to her.

It’s wrong, he knows it’s wrong, but he doesn’t care. He wants her. And it’s his turn to take her.

He slowly walks towards her, removing his armour as he does before gently turning her over and climbing into the bed.

“No more… please” she begs quietly as he spreads her legs with his knees and settles between them.

Asking for mercy is useless, she knows that. All she is to them is an object to seek pleasure from, to defile.

The only thing she can do is close her eyes and brace herself for the pain as he slowly pushes in, a long moan leaving him as he fills her.

But when he starts to move, the pain doesn't come.

She opens her eyes and stares at him, confused, and scared, by what she's feeling.

Why doesn’t it hurt?

Why is it so different?

Why does it feel… nice?

“Gods” she gasps, her eyes fluttering shut as he starts to speed up, letting out a moan that drowns out the one that slips past her lips.

She has no idea what he’s doing differently to August and Lloyd but she prays he keeps doing it because it feels good, amazing even.

Her mind races as she tries to understand what’s happening. Why does she feel bad, so embarrassed and ashamed, when what’s happening right now feels so good?

He moves his hips faster, harder. The sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room as he gropes one of her breasts before pinching her nipple hard, pulling another moan from her.

He slowly glides his hand up her chest to around her neck, squeezing the sides. The sudden restriction of air makes her panic and start clawing at his hands, making him squeeze even more.

Her eyes roll back as a weird pressure builds between her legs, making whatever he’s doing to her feel even better.

It suddenly breaks, making her moan loudly as a pleasant burning sensation washes over her, before everything goes black…

VENERIS FILIA TAG LIST: @dragonsneversharetheirtreasure @themaradwrites @secretaryunpaid @pixie88 @aussieez @identity2212 @fanfics-r-us-official @km-ffluv @ktficworld @sillyrabbit81 @juliaorplI78 @kingliam2019 @thebejeweledwatercat @red-write-hand @queenzee27 @therockandaroll

[megalony]

Soft Spot- Part 2

This is the next art of my new dark! Mob! Chris Evans series, I hope you will all like it, feedback would be lovely.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez-blog @jonesyaddiction @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me  @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ceres27 @avyannadawn  @noonenuts​ @sleepylunarwolf @coverupps​

Masterlist

Summary: Chris has his hands full with his club, his boys and his wife who he dotes on. Things get harder when (Y/n)’s pregnant but she’s barely gotten over losing their little girl.

Enjoy.

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(Y/n) felt like stomping her foot on the ground to make the automatic doors register her presence and open to her like the gates of Hell opening up. It wasn't as if she was too light for the sensor to register her and she was stood as close as possible but the doors to the gym were on their last legs. Chris was havnig them replaced next week, finally.

When the doors finally opened, (Y/n) was hit like a wave of that smell which lingered with her wherever she went. It smelt of bleach and metal and if she took a big deep breath, sometimes Chris's smell wafted in through the air too.

She dragged her feet through to reception and tried to keep a straight, tall composure but it was getting hard. Her body felt like it needed to collapse, her legs were hard as stone and her arms were barely able to move at her sides. She had felt too unwell to drive today and was thankful the gym was only a fifteen minute walk from their home.

Scanning her fingers through her pockets, (Y/n) tried to find her keycard. Only Chris, (Y/n) and Sebastian had the master keycards that opened every and any door in the gym, even the 'dark room' where people got put back in line and sometimes fights happened under the radar.

Her hands moved to her bag hanging on her shoulder to scan through for her keycard but nothing was going her way. Her purse rattled around in her bag, her pack of paracetamol clinked against the few mints and sweets she had in there for the boys and her keys jumped like they were wild frogs. She would have to rampage through her bag to find her key and she just didn't have the energy for that.

She wanted to scream. (Y/n) wanted to scream and shout and collapse down on her knees until Chris came and found her. But all she could do was stand and stare at the desk in front of her. There were three people in reception hanging around like they were having a casual chat which wasn’t the most normal sight in the club but their conversations died out immediately when their eyes landed on (Y/n).

"Jack, buzz me through please." (Y/n) leaned her arm on the reception desk and tried to smile at the older man sitting behind the desk before she glanced at the two men stood near the door.

They were trying to smile at her but they couldn't seem to be able to. Usually everyone was cool and calm around her, they flocked to talk to her and make sure she was alright because having a conversation with Chris was hard. He was the boss, anything they said or did was noted and remembered and it made people anxious. The only person who could joke with Chris and not fear the consequences, was Sebastian.

"Yeah, um... (Y/n)..."

Jack lifted his hand and slowly pointed to his nose as his smile faded and a look of concern washed over him.

(Y/n) felt a flash of worry in her stomach and she swiped her hand beneath her nose to find she was having a nosebleed.

Great. That was just what she needed today.

"Here," Dean, who had been standing by the door, swiftly held out a hankerchief which (Y/n) took gratefully.

The sound of the door buzzing made relief bubble in her chest and (Y/n) nodded at the men before she tried to hurry through the doors but she didn't feel well. She hadn't eaten anything for about two days which was making her feel limp and lifeless. All she did was throw up when she ate anything, no matter what time of day it was so she had decided abstenance was going to be her friend for the next day or two. Even water was coming back up with vengence. And now with blood gushing through the handkerchief and onto her fingers, her head was feeling woozy.

She could barely see to walk past the equipment room and trudge down to the corridor at the back. (Y/n) let most of her weight lean on the wall and she shuffled down until she reached Chris's office.

There was no energy left in (Y/n) to try and look through her bag for the key to the office. She let herself slide down until she was sat on the floor and her forehead rested against the office door with the hankerchief glued to her nose and mouth.

(Y/n) didn't know how long she sat there for. It may have been a few seconds, it could have been half an hour, she wasn't sure. All she knew was she must have blacked out because when she opened her eyes, the blood on her hand was dried and crusted and she had started to sweat. The door was as cold as ice and it felt soothing against her burning skin so she leaned her head on it a little more before her eyes fell closed again.

"Shit!"

A tremor of fear trickled down Sebastian's spine when he turned the corner and glanced down the corridor. He could feel a hand clenching round his lungs when he realised it was (Y/n) slumped on the floor with blood on her hands.

Oh God, what had happened to her? Why hadn't anyone seen her or come to get him or Chris?

Chris was going to hit the roof when he came here.

Sebastian jogged down the corridor and crouched in front of (Y/n). He was careful when he reached over and gently cupped (Y/n)'s face in his hands so he could turn her head to face him. The relief he felt almost knocked him off balance when he realised she had had a nose bleed. As long as no one had tried to punch or attack her and nothing was wrong with the baby, then this wouldn't be too bad. He could call Chris without fearing that his boss would hit the roof or explode.

One time Sebastian had seen someone smack (Y/n)'s bum when she passed and safe to say, Chris broke the man's wrist. He didn't know what Chris would do if someone dared to punch or frisk or attack (Y/n). He would likely murder someone for doing that to his wife.

"Hey, (Y/n), you with me?"

Moving his hand, Sebastian pressed the back of his hand against her temple before he sighed and pursed his lips. She had a fever.

It took a lot of effort for (Y/n) to try and move and in the end she gave up, settling for resting her hand on Sebastian's wrist to acknowledge him. It was hard enough keeping her eyes on him, let alone trying to move from where she was uncomfortably tucked into the corner of the doorway.

Fumbling around on his trousers, he grabbed the small radio clipped onto his belt. It was easier to contact everyone around the gym on a radio than trying to search for them or ring them. Every worker had one.

"Chris, can you come to the office, (Y/n)'s here." Sebastian was the only one who was allowed to call Chris by his name. Everyone else who worked for him was demoted to calling him 'boss' or 'sir'. And he couldn't go telling everyone on the radio what state (Y/n) was in, he didn't want everyone flocking down to see what was going on. It wouldn't be fair on her.

"What have you been doing?" He muttered quietly to himself before he took the hankerchief from her hand and tried to wipe beneath her nose and mouth. The less blood Chris saw, the calmer he would be when he got here.

"Seb... what're you doing?"

Chris's head tipped at an odd angle and his shoulders hunched up and tensed as he walked slowly down the corridor. He didn't like the look of his right-hand man crouched down on the floor, hiding (Y/n) from sight. He brushed his hands over his trousers to try and smudge some of the blood from his hands but he could feel the dried blood caked beneath his fingernails and he couldn't scrub his knuckles well, lest he wanted to scrub off the scabs starting to form. Chris knew his wife hated to see blood on his hands so he always washed up before he saw her.

If he knew she was coming to the club this early he would have washed up way before now.

When he got up close to the pair of them, he could feel his blood running cold and tingling down to his fingertips. (Y/n), his precious girl, was curled up on the floor like she was cowering away from them. Her eyes were barely open, streaks of blood were smeared across her nose and down her lips and chin and he could see the blood on her hands. And the bloody hankerchief Sebastian was gripping like it was his lifeline.

Why was his wife barely conscious on the floor, smeared in blood? How had she got this far and no one had noticed or told him?

"What the fuck happened to her?"

"I don't know, she was here when I came down."

When Sebastian shuffled back, Chris went down on his knees and cupped (Y/n)'s face so she was looking at him. He saw the moment she realised he was there because her eyes seemed to brighten and a lopsided smile graced her red lips and the look made his heart jump.

"Baby, baby look at me. What happened?" Chris's voice was oddly gentle and soft around the edges like he was slowly melting on the inside from loving her. But he couldn't quite hide the concern from reaching his hardened features, he wanted to know what happened and he wanted to make sure if someone hurt her, they would pay for it.

"I had a nosebleed," (Y/n) could feel her senses slowly coming back to her now and with Chris's fingers splayed across her neck and his thumbs slowly rubbing over her cheeks, she felt like she was waking up from anaesthetic.

"No one's hurt you, then?"

"No, baby. I- I think I blacked out though,"

She couldn't help but smile. The concern was evident in his eyes and the wary tone of his voice and it made (Y/n)'s heart skip a beat. She hadn't meant to scare him or any of the workers but she didn't want to stay home alone when she felt unwell. The best place to be was with Chris but she also didn't want to interrupt when he was working and if he thought she hadn't noticed the blood on his hands, he was mistaken.

"You've got a fever babygirl. Come on, let's get you sat in the office."

Moving his hands, Chris wrapped his arms around (Y/n)'s waist and quietly counted to three before he stood up and pulled her to her feet. The way (Y/n) lazily smiled up at him and rubbed her hands over his shoulders made him playfully roll his eyes and sigh.

"Hi," She whispered quietly into his neck, muttering a quiet 'oh' when her legs wobbled and her weight fell onto his chest. It was a good job he had been expecting it, he took all her weight in his arms without faltering or stumbling back. And he kept her leaned against his chest with one arm so his other hand could cradle the back of her head while Sebastian unlocked the office door.

"Come on," He muttered quietly against her hair as he guided her into the office but after a few steps, Chris gave up.

He moved his arms once again and effortlessly scooped (Y/n) up like she was one of the boys he was carrying to bed. He felt her squeak of surprise against his neck but she made no protest. She looped her arms around his neck and let him carry her through to the sofa, surprised when Chris sat down and perched her on his lap.

"It's a good job we're going to the hospital today," He whispered the words quietly in her ear as he sat back and slouched against the sofa, letting (Y/n) lean back into his chest.

They were going to the hospital for a scan today and Chris couldn't be more relieved. He needed to tell the midwife (Y/n) wasn't eating and was barely drinking anything because she kept being sick. She couldn't keep carrying on like this without any help, they needed a doctor's advice and someone to look her over and make sure she was okay. As much as Chris loved having (Y/n) at the office, he couldn't have her turning up and blacking out when she got here, it was too dangerous.

What if the next time she felt ill she didn't make it to the gym and she collapsed in the street?

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

A fond look washed over Chris's face and he couldn't help the smile that broke out on his lips when he glanced across at his girl. For the past few minutes, he had felt (Y/n) brushing her fingers across his bruised knuckles but now she had his hand held up to her face so she could kiss his knuckles.

With how many fights he got into, his hands scarcely managed to heal before the old wounds were cut open again and his hands were usually always large and swollen. His knuckles and the back of his hands were discoloured with red and white streaks across them from scars that were continuously re-opened.

"How do you feel?" He asked quietly before he scuffed his chair a bit closer to the bed she was lying on.

"Better," Both of them knew it was a lie and (Y/n) knew better than to lie to Chris when he could always tell, but he dropped the matter and stayed quiet with a small smile gracing his lips.

He knew she wasn't feeling better. Her temperature had gone down a bit but she was still pale and looked sickly. Deep down, Chris had an unsettling feeling that (Y/n) was going to be admitted to the hospital and if that happened, he would need all the strength and help he could get.

He knew (Y/n) wouldn't stay here without him.

After losing Evelyn, (Y/n) hadn't been eating or drinking and got admitted to hospital. Chris had left her on the ward for all of two hours before the hospital nurse had rang him, begging for him to come back because (Y/n) had ripped out her IV, almost hit a nurse and tried to leave without being discharged. He had to fight with her to get her back in bed and wait for someone to sedate her so she could rest.

"Good afternoon Mrs Evans, how are you today?" (Y/n) sat up a bit straighter and forced a smile when the midwife walked in.

"I'm okay-"

"Baby," There was a warning tone to Chris's deep voice that made (Y/n) wince and when she dared to look over at him, the smile had fallen from his lips and his brows were raised. She could be on death's door sick to her stomach and she would still try and convince everyone she was fine. It was something that always upset Chris, no matter how ill (Y/n) was she never wanted to make a fuss or have people worry about her. But she couldn't always act like she was fine when she really wasn't.

"I haven't been feeling so good today,"

A groan left his lips and he hung his head in his hands, scraping his fingers over his beard before he dared to look up at the midwife standing across the bed from him.

"She's not been eating properly for over a week and she blacked out this morning after a nosebleed. You're not fine."

"Okay, when was the last time you ate and managed to keep it down?"

(Y/n) slowly spun the ring round on Chris's finger that seemed to have stollen her attention for the meantime. When she dared to look at Chris who was looking the other way, she felt a shiver creeping up her neck. He wasn't going to be happy when he found out she had lied to him.

"I- I haven't kept anything down so I haven't really eaten for nearly three days, I guess."

She could feel the way Chris tightened his hand around hers until she could barely feel her fingers anymore. His head snapped to look at her and a gleam crossed his eyes.

"What about fluids?"

"Water won't even stay down,"

"I'll need to take some blood for testing but if you can't keep any fluids down, I'd like to admit you to hospital. You'll need an IV of nutrients and some anti-sickness medication. Let's take a look at little one first though."

(Y/n)'s hands started to shake but she tried her best to steady them as she rolled up her shirt to expose her stomach. She was only just over three months along so her stomach wasn't shaped or round yet but she couldn't wait for it to be.

When her eyes darted over to Chris, for a dreaded moment (Y/n) thought he was going to walk out when he rose to his feet. Her mind raced, panicking that she had riled him up by not telling him how bad she had been feeling, but she felt her heart jump when he moved closer instead of away. He stood by the side of the bed, one arm sneaking around her shoulders while his other hand held hers again.

The look in his eyes told her they would be talking about this later, but for now he was still excited. It didn't matter that this was their fourth pregnancy, it always felt like the first and Chris had gathered a collection of scan photos in his top bedside drawer.

"Alrighty, if you look at the screen here," the midwife turned the monitor towards the couple before she began to point. "Oh, congratulations are in order. There's baby A, and there's baby B."

(Y/n) could feel the shudder that rattled through Chris before tremoring through her too.

Twins.

Two babies to feed during the night and watch over and change and settle when they cried bloody murder. Two children to try and decifer and get confused. What if they got muddled which was which?

Two chances of losing a baby. Two babies at the same time was harder than looking after one. (Y/n) could miss any telltale signs that one of them wasn't okay and she could lose another child. nothing had been wrong with Evelyn until she stopped breathing. The last time (Y/n) held her, she had been cold and heavy, an awful weight in (Y/n)'s arms when she didn't wriggle or whimper or blow raspberries.

She couldn't lose another baby- she couldn't lose two more babies.

(Y/n) didn't realise she'd been holding her breath until she felt Chris kissing her temple whispering 'breathe' against her flushed skin. His arm moved to rest across her chest and she clung tightly to his arm, digging her nails into his skin to try and ground herself to him as she sat forward.

"The boys will be happy," Chris kissed the top of (Y/n)'s head, smiling to himself when she nuzzled up against his bicep. He could practically hear her worries floating around in his head and despite his own worries and concerns, his excitement was overriding everything else.

Two more babies.

He couldn't think of anything better and he couldn't dare to think of the few worries in his head. He couldn't think of how (Y/n) might panic or lose her senses when she had two babies to worry about losing because what happened to Evelyn was a one in a million chance. If they tried to think and feel the same emotions they had with the boys, if they focused on their babies and didn't think too much of Evelyn, it would be alright.

Chris couldn't dare think what would happen if they had a girl or two girls. He didn't want to imagine replacing Evelyn or having two girls and either worry about losing them or feel cheated if they didn't and wonder why only Evelyn had to die. He couldn't even dare to think about another baby girl in his arms or the fact that he'd always wanted a little princess to spoil.

They would cross that bridge in two months when they found out what they were having.

"(Y/n), I'd like to take some blood now, then I'll made a few calls so you can be admitted to the ward."

(Y/n) didn't have the will or the energy to fight it. She might not have to stay overnight or more than one night and they were already in the maternity unit of the hospital so she wouldn't have far to go. Right now, her head was spinning and her skin was prickling with heat and all she wanted to do was sleep.

She waited for the midwife to go retrieve a vile and needle before she held her arm out. Her eyes closed and she buried her face deeper into Chris's bicep. She didn't like needles.

Chris on the other hand, was fascinated with them. Blood and gore was his speciality, he could skillfully slice someone open and knew where would inflict the most pain. He could cut someone from their elbow vertically down to their wrist and know it was the quickest way for them to bleed out and die. His eyes watched in curiosity as a band was strapped tight around (Y/n)'s upper arm before the needle was punctured into the crease of her elbow.

The midwife took to viles of blood which she labelled and set in a basket on her desk before she turned back to face them.

"If you could wait back in the waiting room, someone will come and direct you when I've let the doctor know."

"Thank you,"

(Y/n) could feel her hands shaking when she cleaned her stomach. Taking blood always made her woozy and with how uneasy she felt already, now she felt horrid. Her head was swimming, she couldn't feel her fingers or even her hands anymore and she realised that she was trembling.

"Baby, are you alright?"

Chris held his hands out to steady (Y/n) when she stood on wobbling legs and seemed to stop. Her eyes had a faraway look like she was looking into a whole other world but he didn't like the way she was shaking and the colour seemed to drain from her completely. He had been with her the first time she had her bloods done and she threw up and passed out at the same time. Every time after that she either went lightheaded or she had to lie down because it made her feel sick.

Everything started to spin.

"Help," Just as the word spluttered past her chapped lips, (Y/n) felt the room turn on its axis and she suddenly became weightless.

Chris groaned when (Y/n)'s head bashed into his shoulder and momentairely jarred his arm before he tried to gain back composure. He locked his arms around her hips and pulled her into his lower abdomen before she had chance to hit the ground. He couldn't have her hurting herself, not when she was weakened and rather ill already.

Spinning (Y/n) around, Chris hoisted her up bridal style, making sure her head was on his shoulder and not hanging back so she didn't hurt her neck.

"Lay her back on the bed,"

He did as he was told and slowly eased (Y/n) back down on the bed before he held her hand and gently carded his fingers through her hair. His eyes watched the midwife intently as she checked (Y/n)'s pulse and placed a thermometer between her lips.

"She's got a high temperature, I'll go get her admitted on a ward."

"Oh baby, what am I gonna do with you?"

[prettyinpink350]

❄️Candy cane lane❄️

(iPhones don’t have the candy cane emoji I swear they used too but whatever)

☃️⛄️Holiday fic!!!! Happy holidays everyone!🩵

Alpha Steve!rogers x omega!reader, CEO!Steve rogers x secretary!reader, Boss!steve rogers x employee!reader.

Some warnings will not be listed because the fic is not finished yet and I don’t know if there are any specific ones that I will need to add so be aware! (This list will be most of the warnings but just in case I’m letting you know because there might be one or two warnings that might pop up in the fic or in the real fics warnings but it might not be in this list)

Warnings: (minor spoilers, lighter topics/warnings are listed at the top and the father down the more graphic or sexual) readers body type or any physical characteristics/ features (like race) are not included or mentioned! This fic is for everyone except minors!!!!!!!!!! Fluff, Cuss words, boss employee relationship, hugging, holding hands, yelling, reader and Steve celebrate Christmas but no talks of religion!Steve gets angry at one point, other male attention that is not from Steve! Possessive behavior, slight obsession towards reader, Smut!: male masturbation, slight daddy kink, alpha x omega, biting (claiming), breeding, talk of having children! spanking, reader takes on a more submissive role, rough sex, p in v sex, condom is not used, reader is not on birth control, pussy slapping, breast play, oral sex (female receiving) ball play (reader plays with Steve balls) , more to be added I believe 🫣😬

The sings that got me in the holiday mood to write this 🤲💁‍♀️

[littlemelaninfics]

Christopher Jamal is Off Punishment

I think it's been long enough and I want to start writing for Chris again. I still think he is a cash grabbing moron, but as I said in my post about why I won't be writing for him, the creative community can shape and mold him into anything we want.

ALL OF MY WRITING IS FICTION AS I KNOW NONE OF THESE PEOPLE I WRITE ABOUT (except Owen Gray and I'm still not even going to pretend to claim to know him like that) !

Soooo, my requests for Chris + Characters are officially back open.

Aw shit. Let’s see how this goes

[macverse]

What I found in the greenhouse was unlike anything I'd seen before. I froze as soon as I entered the clearing between all of the plants and the work area of the greenhouse as the sight of the man I'd been searching for all morning came into view. Mr. Evans was still in most of his suit from last night working on a flower arrangement at the large, well-loved wooden work table in the greenhouse. I knew with certainty that it was the same suit because I'd complimented him on his attire the previous evening when I went to make sure he had everything he needed before I turned in. He still looked as presentable as he did when I last saw him except he'd lost his suit jacket and tie somewhere and the crisp white shirt underneath was marred by blood. His dress shirt was slightly unbuttoned at the neck and I could have sworn I spotted a tattoo. At least now I knew where the blood had come from. Or did I?

“That isn't…Is that your blood? Are you okay Christopher…Mr. Evans?” I asked, trying to sound calm and confident. Mr. Evans didn't look up from the flowers he was trimming with what looked like a bloody carving knife. I felt bile rise in my throat and nearly swayed as I suddenly became light-headed seeing the knife in his hand.

“Good morning Y/N,” his voice was calm, deep, and even as he trimmed and tested the height of each flower in the vase in front of him. He paused without provocation holding the knife mid-chop above a group of flowers, seeming to consider something, “Or is it already afternoon?”

“It's still morning,” my voice was shaky. I was trying to stay calm even though what I was seeing was the stuff of slasher films. This whole morning felt like that scene right before the smart girl that everyone begrudgingly thought was pretty figured out that the rich guy was the person who killed all the young college students that had to spend the night at his creepy mansion. I'm the smart girl and I'm so about to be murdered by the creepy rich guy. 

Read more on my AO3

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Exactly what it says on the tin. It's perfection. Damnit, I love Ari now.

𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲'𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Stepdad!Ari Levinson x bratty!reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut, stepcest, noncon, dubcon, daddy kink, forced babying, use of petnames, oral - female receiving, face riding, fingering, anal fingering, spanking, coercion, blackmail, dd/lg, dirty talk, dumbification.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Your stepdad Ari has a strange obsession with you, but will he listen when you try to confront him about it?

𝐀/𝐍: Wow, it’s me with another surprise Ari fic! I wrote this quickly in the past few hours, and I hope you enjoy. But please read the warnings, Ari is super depraved and twisted in this! Based on this ask and drabble!

“That’s such a pretty dress, honey.” Your stepdad, Ari, compliments you, dabbing the corner of his mouth with the lacy white napkin before folding it up and placing it back on the side of his plate. “It’s nice to see you making such an effort for dinnertime, in a pretty dress instead of those jeans and sweatpants you’re always wearing.”

Keep reading

[whereireid]

˚ · . 𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐒

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dark!steve rogers x fem!reader | masterlist

SUMMARY: Is it hard being married to the most influential man in America? You most certainly think it is. — Steve Rogers: Captain America, the heart of his nation, the soul of his country. After returning home from a particularly bad day at work, Steve finally snaps, deciding you need re-educating on how to be the perfect housewife.

warnings: dubious consent ! (reader does consent but it can be interpreted otherwise) fingering, oral [m recieving] manhandling, — arguments, swearing, verbal insults, toxic ideas of marriage [nuclear family, gender roles] mentions of post-partum depression.

Some may say a clean home creates a clean mind. Others say, happy wife, happy life. Steve Rogers strives for both of these things.

Because in Steve Rogers' line of work, it's tiresome to return home to a messy house, a dissatisfied wife, and a crying baby. Exhausting is actually probably a better term. Constantly picking up dirty laundry which should've been thrown in the washing machine days beforehand, not managing to eat dinner because there is no dinner prepared for him, having to listen to a screeching baby which pierces his ears and makes his head throb.

It is hard. Steve Rogers has enough to deal with at work, what with saving the world and actually representing the entire nation of America as a whole. And you? His cute little suburban housewife, who he slaves around for at his job just so he can shroud you in bliss and heaven? You just don't seem to get that. You cry and wail over your position as a mother, saying that it’s too much to handle and that the workload is too much.

The fucking workload. By which, you mean doing the dishes and the laundry and occasionally cooking dinner. Meanwhile, Steve will come home from work, after fighting off actual terrorists and criminals, sometimes even aliens, to a home that is so messy it looks like it’s just been broken into. And he’ll try to be rational - argue that it is hard for you because you’re dealing with your son, and that you’re a first-time mom, and that James has inherited his dad’s serum which has made the four-month-old a stupidly advanced little shit. And Steve does admit this - your son is very good at pushing buttons and misbehaving and throwing tantrums, but that’s what kids do. You knew this. But still, he'll try to be rational - because you're perfect in every other way and it must be so hard to manage this, but then also...

...It shouldn’t be that hard to stay on top of things. And then, when Steve will come home and try to rest - when he drops on the sofa tiredly, unable to hold back the temptation to succumb to hours of missed sleep, you’ll call over to him: “Stevie, can you put food in the oven? I forgot," with no apology! - Hell, no genuine sincerity either! Yet, like the good husband he is, he'll do it - no questions asked, and then you'll follow up with, "oh, and stick the washing machine on, please! And maybe the dishwasher too, whilst you’re at it?”

...It shouldn’t be that hard to stay on top of things. And then, when Steve will come home and try to rest - when he drops on the sofa tiredly, unable to hold back the temptation to succumb to hours of missed sleep, you’ll call over to him: “Stevie, can you put food in the oven? I forgot," with no apology! - Hell, no genuine sincerity either! Yet, like the good husband he is, he'll do it - no questions asked, and then you'll follow up with, "oh, and stick the washing machine on, please! And maybe the dishwasher too, whilst you’re at it?”

He'll do all of it. He won't even say a word. Won't mutter a complaint. Then you'll both sit in silence as you eat, not even a "oh, how was your day, Steve?" or a kiss on the cheek. Two seperate showers, two separate bedtime routines - the only time the two of you really talk is when you both put James to bed, but then, what? You'll drag yourself to your bedroom, and Steve will put his hands on your bare thighs needily, his cock so hard in his pants it actually hurts, only for to waft him away and say you're tired and need sleep? Only for him to wait until you're breathing softly next to him to go on his phone and look at the photos of you he has saved when you're bare and naked, sultry and ready for him?

God, what has happened to him? Is this what fatherhood is?

Steve can deal with all of this. He thinks you're depressed - he's pretty sure of it, actually. Post-partum depression is what they call it. He's asked you to see a doctor - no, has begged you to, but to no avail. So he sits and watches as you cry and stress, soothing you at every possible opportunity, only to have his head bit off for doing so.

Today has been rough. So rough that Steve’s actually pondered whether coming home would be more beneficial to him than drinking his sorrows away at a bar, despite the unbelievable curse that he can’t get drunk. He decides the former – you might need him, and he's hoping that you're going to put a pip in his step. There's no-one he needs more when he's down than you. And he's sure it will be fine, because a happy wife allows for a happy life!

Right?

Wrong. Steve pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out an exasperated sigh as he gazes over his living room. It is a state, and he's wondering how it looks exactly like an actual bomb has gone off. No. It looks worse - there’s shit everywhere. Toys and baby clothes and an open pack of clean diapers lay scattered around the living room floor, and he’s almost certain there’s apple sauce on the white rug that he spent $5,000 fucking dollars on.

“Sweetheart, what is this?” It genuinely feels like Steve’s heart is about to be pulled out of his chest. Like someone’s actually ripping their hands into him and scratching away at his heart like a deranged psychopath. Is disappointed even the word? Is angry better? “What the hell is on this rug?”

When you appear from the kitchen, running out wildly, hand movements frantic in concern, Steve genuinely winces. You look a mess - exhausted, worrisome, and on the brink of collapse. When Steve always pictured coming home to you as his housewife, he’ll be honest, he never imagined this. “On the rug?” You wheeze, cursing softly as you graze a wet rag over the applesauce stain. “I have no idea. It isn’t - shit - it isn’t coming off.”

“It looks like applesauce. It - it doesn't matter,” Steve reassures, wrapping his hands around your shoulders. When you ignore him, rubbing harder at the stain, he repeats, “doll. It doesn’t matter. I’ll just - I’ll go and buy a new one.”

“No, Steve. We can’t afford a new one right now. I have to get this out.”

“What do you mean, we can’t afford one right now? Of course we can - just - Jesus, doll, stop it!”

The sudden reminder that Steve is much, much stronger than you suffocates you in a wave when he lifts you up by the underneath of your arms. You wail pathetically, defeatedly, dropping the damp rag on the rug, admitting that attempting to salvage it is a lost cause.

Silence prods at the air. When Steve finally lets go of you, he puts his hands on his hips and sniffs slightly. How the hell has he let this happen?

“Is dinner almost ready?” his voice sounds hoarse as he speaks, and he genuinely feels like he could cry when you answer,

“No.”

“Right. Okay.” A shaky breath slips past Steve’s lips, and his shaking hands find their way into your hair. He rubs your scalp softly, caringly, as one does to their partner if they’ve had a bad day - though he’s almost certain that his had been worse. “Is dinner even prepped, doll?”

When you shake your head in response, Steve shuts his eyes. He shuts them so hard he sees stars and he tries to wash away the frustration that threatens to bubble over like a tsunami wave. It’s impossible to hold back the annoyed sigh that slips past his lips, though - it’s so dramatically loud that your head snaps up, the corner of your eyes pricking with fresh tears.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He shrugs your concern away, peppering a gentle kiss on your head, hoping that you won't press on.

Of course, though, you do.

“What, Steve?”

“I haven’t said anything, doll.” He shakes shoulders slightly, trying to brush away the anger which flickers throughout his body.

Steve hates this. Despises how you gaze up at him with such ferocity - such anger, like he’s actually done something wrong. Your brows furrow together sharply, and you mutter, “you didn’t have to. Something is clearly bothering you.”

“Okay." Steve nods carefully, not wanting to overstep, not wanting to make you more frustrated than you are. "You’re right. Something... Something is bothering me.”

You huff from beneath him. Your cheeks flush a shade darker in frustration, and he can hear how your little heartbeat begins to quicken in your chest. You have the audacity to be frustrated right now? After this is what he comes home to?

Of course, you do. Because you've had a hard day. But his has definitely been fucking worse.

And his patience is running indefinitely thin.

“Yeah, and what is bothering you, Steve? Because I can’t do anything about it if you’re always going to go fucking radio-silent on me.”

Steve’s jaw twitches. He hates it when dames swear. Especially when that dame is you. “I’ve had a bad day at work, sweetheart. I really think it’s best we don’t do this today,” he warns sweetly, his hands coming to grip your shoulders reassuringly. You shrug off his touch, and Steve glares at you intensely. “Give it a rest, doll, please.”

“Me, give it a rest? You’re the one huffing and puffing like you’re the big bad wolf all of a sudden. Like you’ve had such a terrible day sitting around filling out paperwork whilst I’ve had to deal with your son-“

“Our son,” he corrects quickly, jaw clenched as he reaches out to grip your cheeks. “I really hope you’re not going to keep rambling on. It’s not going to go well for you if you do.”

Steve thinks his warning is enough for you to back down. You’ve defied him in the past. You’ve had a fiery attitude that has almost burnt ablaze before, and Steve blew it out as though it were a candlelight. You know what he’s capable of when he’s angry - know when you’re pushing his buttons too much.

"There's no point. If I do, you won't listen to me anyway."

"I do listen."

"You don't." Your voice strains slightly as you cross your arms over your chest, looking up at your husband, blissfully unaware of just how quickly he's tiring of this conversation. "If you listened you'd be here a little bit more rather than at work all of the time."

"I can't exactly take a vacation from saving the world, doll. Just - let's just drop this, okay? I don't want to get into this anymore. You're not going to like where this goes."

"Of course, you don't want to get into it! You never do."

Your little hands waft at Steve's chest, flapping at him softly. And he tries to keep his cool as you rant - he really does, but he is so tired and he's had just such an awful day that he can't help it. When did you both discuss the boundaries of your relationship, again? Four years ago now, Steve's sure of it. And he hasn't had to be harsh with you in years - hasn't really had the heart to be mean to you at all, in fact...

... but when you're acting like this, he thinks he needs to blow out that annoying, fiery spark you're blazing.

"Jesus fucking Christ, doll, you really don't know how to shut the hell up, do you? You think Bucky or Sam would let you run your mouth like this?" Steve seethes suddenly, his body pressing against yours. It happens in one quick motion - first of all you're standing below him, pressing your finger into his chest and complaining about his working hours, and the next you're thrown over his lap, thrashing around like a bird, trying to slip out of his touch.

It just so happens that Steve is so, so much stronger than you. And he hasn't been this hard in weeks - God, he hasn't touched you this much in weeks, you've both been so... busy. Perhaps that's why you're acting up - perhaps he just needs to show you your place again as his subordinate and your flame will dull, smothered by his love.

"Get off of me, Steve! Get off!" You wail awkwardly as Steve pushes the band of your sweatpants past your ass. It makes your body flood with warmth as his fingers skim against your panties gently, the touch sending shockwaves throughout your body.

"You've been so wrapped up in this make-shift hell of yours that you've forgotten about the most important thing in your life," Steve says, pinching the inside of your thighs, making you squeak. "Me. Remind me, again, doll - what is a wife's duty?"

You flinch as he brings a hand up to smooth down your hair. It feels like you're a newlywed again and you've just burnt the lasagna after Steve's had an excruciating day training rookies at the Avengers Tower. When was the last time you had been punished?

Gosh, you couldn't even remember. You'd been so good. So obedient - the perfect little housewife, which Steve had molded you into carefully. When was the last time you greeted him with a kiss on the cheek? When was the last time you'd sunk to your knees after he'd had a bad day and served him like a good wife should? You'd grown too comfortable in defying him - grown too oblivious to who he actually is.

He's Captain America. He's your husband. He's the most important man in your life - right next to James.

And you'd been neglecting him.

"What is a wife's duty?" He repeats cooly, his tone like ice. It makes you feel frostbit - warm but numb at the same time.

"To take care of the home."

"And?"

"... to serve her husband?"

Steve sighs, exasperated. He pinches your thigh again, to which you grumble in discontent. "So you do know. You just choose to forget, day in and day out."

Steven Grant Rogers is a nice man. The best man you could've ever asked for. Charming, doting - forever showering you with compliments and extravagant gifts. He has never expected anything of you, except your complete and utter submission to him. Stege has only ever wanted you to be a loving, doting partner to him, to which he vowed to be the same.

"I haven’t… chosen to forget," you try to justify, a broken mewl slipping past your lips as Steve's fingers run up and down your clothed pussy. "It's just - it's been hard, with James, and everything."

“And you think it’s been easy for me? Easy coming home to a messy home and an upset wife?” Steve asks, pushing the band of your panties aside. A soft gasp passes your lips as he pushes one digit into you, and warmth succumbs your body in response. “I’ve only expected one thing from you, sweetheart. I think you need to learn how to please me again.”

You should learn. You need to - need to be re-educated on how to be his perfect wife. Again. Steve’s eyes rake over the living room once again, and he tuts, sliding another finger inside of you. It’s heavenly how your body arches - how your skin pricks with goosebumps as he slowly moves his fingers in a ‘come forth’ motion, as you mewl beneath him - every bit of fight pooling out of you, the light from your fire beginning to flicker out.

“A good wife never neglects her husband." Steve’s voice is cool, and your eyes flutter shut in response. He hasn’t made you feel like this in so long - you’ve practically been celibate, and the feeling of his fingers pressing lovingly on that little spongy spot inside of your pussy makes your knees feel weak. Your stomach grows warm with lust and your pussy slick with arousal when Steve’s other hand grips your ass harshly. “Or have you forgotten that?”

“Never. I’d - ah - I’d never forget that."

"Then why haven't you been taking care of me, doll?" He coos, so sickly-sweet it makes your stomach churn.

God, he takes care of you so good, and here you are neglecting him. Warmth pools at the bottom of your stomach and you begin to feel hot flashes throughout your bodies as he keeps curling his fingers inside of you - the sound of your slick bouncing off of the living room walls.

"I've been trying," you whine pitifully, shuffling as he speeds his fingers up, caressing you just perfectly. Just how you like it.

"Trying, huh?" And just as you're about to cum, he stops. "Trying isn't good enough."

"Steve!"

The blond stares down at you with a painfully unreadable expression. His face is so blank it actually sends shivers throughout you, and he taps the side of your cheek softly. "You know what to do when you've been bad, don't you?"

Steve's voice is an octave lower. Subtle fear pricks at the back of your head as you nuzzle your head in his crotch - embarrassed at the feeling of his bulge pressing against you. He's just as desperate as you for this - maybe more, but he's not going to let you go down without apologising to him first.

In his eyes, you've put him through hell. Unhappy wife, unhappy life.

You remove his cock from his boxers swiftly. You pout at the sight of it - thick angry and red - before licking a soft stripe up his tip. Steve's length is so pretty - complimentary to the man himself. Slick with his own precum, you hum, wondering how you ever went so long without it. But before you could even think, even comprehend how you went without such luxury for so long, Steve's big hand wraps around the back of your head and forces you down onto his cock.

To begin with, you thrash and gag. Steve is huge and he's always taken some time to get well-adjusted to, and your throat is nowhere near wet enough to take him all in... yet, but he doesn't care. Steve's tired of waiting - he's practically huffing as he pushes your head up and down using one of his hands, grunting as your throat tightens around his cock. He wishes you were kneeling in front of him so he could see your teary eyes, and he knows they're teary because you sob like a baby when he uses you like this.

It's hsi right to do that, though. He's your husband, your saviour - quite literally your Prince Charming. He's been so good to you, so patient, and so accepting of your need for time and adjustment, because James is quite literally a whirlwind. But he's also tired - he's Captain America, America's Saviour, and a father to one.

He just needs some relief. He just needs his cock sucked.

So, yeah, no more teasing - no more thrashing, either, Steve decides as he holds your body in place and opts to thrust up into your mouth. And it's a much better choice, gives him easier access, and you gasp against him as he thrusts his hips up into you, a drawly groan climbing from his throat as he does so. Your mouth is so, so, so fucking wet and your lips wrap perfectly around his cock. The only thing that can make this better is if - "oh Jesus Christ," Steve grumbles, - is if you move your tongue in time with his thrusts which you do!

It's like clockwork with Steve. After being with him for almost half a decade you know him so well that you know what he likes. Knows exactly what gets his cock to twitch. Your tongue runs over his veins and his cock begins to throb inside your mouth, his fingers curling in your hair.

"This is how a good wife treats her husband," Steve tells you, his teeth grinding together as he comes undone in your mouth. His cum paints your tongue beautifully, and you swallow the salty mixture eagerly.

As he pulls out of your mouth - making sure to smack his cock against your tongue a few times, he looks around the living room again. All feelings of anger has washed away, his cock is still hard and leaking against your mouth as he goes to reach for his phone, but as he does, you stop him.

"Hey! What about me?"

It's funny. Hilarious, actually, how you think your pretty little pout and teary eyes and high-pitched, whiny voice will entice him to give you a reward. But good girls get rewards, not bad ones - and you haven't really been good, have you?

"What do you mean, 'what about me'? You've had what you deserve."

"What?" His words feel like a smack in the face, and you cling to his plain white shirt pathetically. "You haven't let me cum yet, Steve, that's not fair."

It makes you feel embarrassed when he laughs at you. You shrink into yourself slightly, looking up at him with big doe-eyes. When you don't get it, Steve coos slightly, brushing a curl from your face. "Oh, my pretty little girl, you don't get it, do you?" And when you shake your head, Steve mumbles, "what is your duty as a wife?"

"To - to serve you, which I've done!"

"Yes, you have, doll. Incredibly well. What else?" He places a soft kiss on your head, lovingly, and you lull at the contact.

"To... to clean the home, and make sure it's cared for."

"And is it?" He says plainly. "No, it's - it's a shit-hole, honey, I can't sugar-coat it anymore. Your job as a housewife is to clean it up. Do you really think it's fair for me to get home from work and be forced to do this as well when this is your job? I've done my part."

When you think it over - well, no, it isn't really fair, because Steve works like a dog - slaves away for America and for you to have the life you've always dreamed of, and you've been... excepting him to clean up after your mess.

You feel slightly... shameful.

Steve reaches over to pinch your thigh again. "I promise though, doll, as soon as you're done cleaning this all up, I'll take you however you want to be taken."

You can't help the rush of excitement pool in your lower-belly. Steve swears he's never seen you get up so quick - you don't even bother putting your sweatpants back on, abandoning them completely and rushing around like a complete fool.

He watches you, content.

This is what life is supposed to be like.

[witchywithwhiskey]

first christmas with trucker ari levinson

pairing: dark trucker!ari levinson x female reader

summary: you ask ari if you can hang up some christmas decorations in his truck cab, and after his initial refusal, he starts to come around to the idea—and has some fun making you beg for it.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, slightly dry/painful sex, creampie, cock warming, bondage, choking, breathplay, dirty talk, degradation, some praise, daddy/dad kink, begging, pet names (sweetheart, baby, kiddo), some aftercare, a mean hot man

word count: 2.0k

a/n: based on this ask from @veltana: Are trucker Ari's and trucker Jake's readers gonna decorate the rigs for the holidays? since Ari's canonically jewish, i wanted to work that in while still showing what he's willing to do for his girl. (also apologies if there's any tense switching in this one, i'm not used to writing in present tense 😬)

trucker king masterlist & dirty filthy truckers universe masterlist

Trucker Ari Levinson isn’t the type of man to decorate for the holidays. By the time Thanksgiving rolls around, you’re well aware of this fact about your trucker, but you think it would be nice to put up some decorations in the rig, just to make it feel a little bit festive.

When you broach the subject, the two of you have just set off on a six-week stint of driving, which means you’ll be on the road through the new year. Already, the vast, snow-covered plains of the midwest have you feeling melancholy, so you’re really hoping Ari says yes to some Christmas cheer.

However, your trucker shuts you down with a curt, grunted, “I’m Jewish.”

You try not to show your disappointment, but you haven’t quite gotten used to the way you can never hide anything from your deceptively observant trucker. So while you think you do a good job of playing it off like you don’t care that Ari doesn’t seem willing to let you decorate, he knows he’s struck a chord—and it doesn’t sit well with him.

At the next rest stop, Ari’s grabbing snacks while you’re in the bathroom and he catches sight of a small display of Christmas decorations. They’re all cheap and plastic and poor quality, but before he can stop himself, he’s swiping one of the bright red Santa hats and adding it to his haul.

Ari shakes his head to himself, wondering what his mother would think of him if she could see him buying a Santa hat when he hasn’t worn a yarmulke or stepped foot in a synagogue in over a decade. But then he pushes the thoughts aside, reminding himself that his mother was gone, she’d left him, and she had no fucking right to judge what he was doing.

You’re settled in the rig by the time he gets back, an e-reader in your lap, and already engrossed in some smutty Christmas romance when Ari hauls himself into the driver’s seat. You don’t look up until a bag of Christmas candy lands in your lap, and you’re so taken aback, you glance at your trucker in surprise.

It’s then that you see the Santa hat pulled down over Ari’s slightly greasy brown hair. In his dirty red flannel, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, Ari looked like the hottest, filthiest Santa you’ve ever seen, and your core quivers with eagerness as you suck in an excited breath.

Ari’s staring at your mouth, his eyes dipping lower to the way your tits are trembling as your breathing speeds up. You’re wearing nothing but one of his flannel shirts, the buttons undone an almost indecent amount, and nothing underneath. (You’d worn leggings into the rest stop bathroom, but taken them off as soon as you got back in the truck—Ari doesn’t like you wearing too many clothes and, truthfully, you don’t either.)

“Why don’t you come sit on Santa’s lap, kiddo,” Ari rumbles, his voice low and smooth—the charming tone of the man who’d coaxed you into his truck that first day. His hand pats his thigh enticingly as he spreads his legs, the fingers of his other hand deftly undoing the button and fly of his jeans. “Tell daddy what you want for Christmas this year.”

Your pussy is already wet with desire, so you toss your e-reader onto the bunk in the back and quickly navigate the space between your seats so you can throw a leg over Ari’s thighs and slide into his lap. Your ass lands on his legs, your pussy already slick enough that you whimper with the need to be filled.

“Beg for this cock, sweetheart,” Ari rumbles, stroking his thick length, his knuckles brushing against your damp slit and making your hips buck forward, seeking more friction. “Beg me to use your cunny like my own personal cock sleeve.”

“Please, use my pussy, daddy,” you beg breathlessly, fingers twining around the hair at the nape of Ari’s neck, careful not to knock the Santa hat off his head. “Use me to keep your cock warm, please—I want nothing more than to be your perfect little cock slave.”

“Good cock whore,” Ari purrs, one of his big hands grabbing your ass and urging you to lift up. Then he was notching the head of his dick at your tight little hole and helping you sink down on him.

A lewd moan slips from your lips as you take Ari’s cock. Your pussy isn’t quite wet enough to take his thick girth, but you don’t care. You’d take Ari dry if that’s what he wanted, and you both know it. 

There’s a delicious sting as your pussy protests the thick intrusion but you push past it, forcing your hips down until your ass meets Ari’s strong thighs. You sigh with contentment, swaying a little in Ari’s lap, your eyes half-lidded as you stare into your trucker’s ungodly handsome face. 

For some reason, the Santa hat is really doing it for you, making Ari even hotter than normal and you think, dazedly, you might have a Santa kink—so long as Santa is your dirty, filthy trucker.

“Feels s’good, daddy,” you slur, pleasure making your tongue feel thick and clumsy in your mouth. 

Ari chuckles and gives your hip an affectionate pat before he removes his hands from your body and starts up the truck, the engine growling to life. 

He’s pulled his rig back onto the snowy midwestern roads before he reminds you about why you’re on his lap in the first place.

“I wanna decorate the cab for Christmas,” you murmur, laying your head against Ari’s shoulder and enjoying the feeling of the truck rumbling beneath you, the warmth of the rig surrounding you.

Your eyes slide closed and you relax against Ari’s chest, letting the soothing vibrations and the perfect feeling of being filled by his cock lull you. Your whispered plea is spoken into the hollow of Ari’s throat, right above where the star of David he always wears is nestled beneath his t-shirt. 

“Please, dad.”

You feel your trucker’s cock twitch inside you, and a second later he lets out a tortured groan. It joins the soft moan you bury in the shoulder of his flannel shirt, your hips rocking lazily on Ari’s lap. Your juices are soaking his cock already, dripping down to his balls, and his cock is throbbing inside you, both of you equally turned on by what you’d called him. 

“Fine,” he grits out through clenched teeth, though you know he’s not angry, just trying to hold back from coming inside you so soon. He always reacts that way when you call him ‘dad’ instead of ‘daddy’. “You can have one string of lights, baby, but I’m going to test ‘em out before we hang ‘em up.”

Sucking in a sharp breath of surprise, you lean back and look up at Ari to make sure he’s serious. You find his jaw clenched tight and ticking, but when his eyes meet yours, there’s a sparkle of something like affection in them. Before you can be sure, though, he looks back to the dark road. 

“Thank you, Ari, thank you,” you cry, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pressing kisses to his scruffy cheeks and burying your face in his thick beard to nuzzle his jaw. Happily, you lick and kiss down his neck, sucking on the spot at the base of his throat that makes his cock throb inside you. 

“Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome,” he grumbles, one of his hands falling to the small of your back and urging you to settle. “Now be a good cock whore and sit still while you keep me warm, we’ve got another couple hours of driving before you can properly thank me.” 

“Yes, sir, daddy,” you purr sweetly in Ari’s ear as you settle down on his lap. You lay your head on his shoulder and press your mouth to his neck, licking and sucking on his skin idly while you do your best to stay still and let him drive in peace. 

When Ari finally pulls off for the night, you’re practically vibrating with a need to show him how happy he’s made you and as soon as he puts the rig in park, you’re riding his cock hard and fast. 

Your hands are planted on his bare chest—since you made him strip out of his flannel shirt and t-shirt—and you lift your ass up before slamming it down hard, the tip of his cock pushing against your cervix with every thrust and making your cunt squeeze the life from his hard length.

Once he’s let you take control for long enough, Ari’s hand wraps around the front of your throat and he pins you back against the steering wheel, not caring that the horn blares while he fucks up into you ruthlessly. 

All you can do is watch your trucker king, wearing a cheap rest stop Santa hat, fuck the hell out of you while your tits bounce and your mouth falls open in a moan.

Ari comes with a rough shout, yanking you down hard on his cock and making you grind your pussy on him, rubbing your clit against the coarse hair at the base. His hand squeezes your throat, choking you just hard enough to make your pussy spasm, and then you’re coming too, your scream of pleasure stifled by his grip on your neck.

After, Ari helps you into the bunk and tucks you into his big body beneath the blanket. He falls asleep wearing that Santa hat and some boxer briefs, while you’re naked in his arms. With your back to his chest, you can’t see the faint smile that curves his mouth as he drifts off.

When Ari finally buys you that string of lights he promised, you learn that the ‘test’ he wanted to do before you strung them up was to tie you up in them. He winds the cord around your calves, then your thighs, binding your legs together before he plugs them in to make sure they’re all working. 

Ari takes a long moment to look at you like that, naked on the bunk in the back of his rig, save for the thick socks keeping your feet toasty, and the warm, golden lights of the Christmas decoration he bought for you. 

It makes him want to buy you more, to see how you’d look laid out beneath a fully decked out Christmas tree while he fucked your pussy, or how you’d feel curled up in a blanket covered in reindeer while he held you on his lap, his cock buried in your ass. He wants to see you wearing a Santa hat that matched his own, sucking his cock on Christmas morning while he made you coffee.

Ari reminds himself that the two of you are spending Christmas in his rig that year, driving around the country until well into January. But he saves those ideas for another time, tucking them into a box in a corner deep in his mind reserved for all the softer, more domestic plans he has for you—the ones you’ve started to inspire in him despite the fact that he’s never thought of himself as a man with soft or domestic side. 

To distract himself, Ari digs out the Santa hat he bought at that rest stop and puts it on your head, pulling it down over your ears and giving you a satisfied little grin. Then he folds your body in half, pushing your bound legs up to your chest and off to the side so he can watch your face contort in pleasure while he sinks his cock into you.

The string of lights are digging into your skin a little painfully and you’re bent in an almost uncomfortable position, but you can’t help but enjoy it when Ari plunges into your cunt and sets a fast, merciless pace. 

You’d never expected a conversation about Christmas decorations to end up with you tied up in a string of lights, but then, nothing about your trucker was ever what you expected—and that was part of why you loved him so much. You couldn’t wait to spend that Christmas and many more with your trucker king, Ari Levinson.

trucker king masterlist & dirty filthy truckers universe masterlist

[krirebr]

Luck Be a Lady

Pairing: soft!dark Curtis Everett x female reader

Word Count: ~10.1k

Summary: Desperate for money, you accept a job as a cocktail waitress at an underground casino. You think you know what you're doing, but when you meet Curtis, will you realize you're in over your head?

Warnings: Mob AU, violence, allusions to murder, explicit language, dubcon touching, noncon touching (not Curtis), willfully oblivious reader, SMUT - facefucking, dirty talk, light d/s dynamics, praise kink, other explicit sexual content. This is definitely on the darker end of the soft!dark spectrum, so proceed with caution! All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @thecutestgrotto

Masterlist

A/N: And here it finally is! This is my first real attempt at soft!dark. I hope I did it right! 😂

This was inspired by two things: 1) me going to a rep screening of Goodfellas and spending the entire time wondering why I hadn't done a mob au yet and 2) @bigtreefest saying "enforcer!Curtis Everett and mob boss!Andy Barber" in my general direction. Thanks for the inspo, friend!!

And big thanks as always to @paperweight91 who not only came up with Curtis's name for reader but also offered heaps of encouragement and was a great sounding board. And thanks to @stargazingfangirl18 for helping me figure out how exactly we'd get to the smut. Thanks Siri!

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Please come scream at me about this! 😄 As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

You fruitlessly tug down your very short skirt as Holly talks at you. You’re both standing in the corner of the bar’s basement waiting for the night to start in earnest—your first night.

“Lloyd’s not so bad,” she says of your boss, the man who runs this little underground gambling ring. “You’ll have to split your tips with him at the end of the night, but he doesn’t take that much, and you’ll make enough that you won’t really notice. As long as you do that, he’ll mostly keep his hands to himself.”

You nod along, glancing at the mustachioed man conferring with the bouncer at the door. The interview process for this job had boiled down to a thorough once-over that’d made you feel naked in your jeans and t-shirt and a “You’re not too stupid to take a drink order, are you?” and then you had the job.

Holly had vouched for you. Neighbors for almost half a year, she’d come home early one morning last week and witnessed you trying to convince the landlord that you were good for your past-due rent. She’d taken you for coffee and told you she might be able to help if you were good at keeping your head down and mouth shut. And now you were here.

“The customers, on the other hand,” she continues, smacking her gum, “you’ll have to let them touch, at least a little bit. Within reason, you know? But if anything gets out of hand, you can just tell Jake at the door and he’ll take care of it.”

“Within reason?” you ask, voice shaking, just the littlest bit, as the pit that started forming in your stomach when you agreed to this grows a little more.

The look she gives you verges on exasperated. “Well, you want to make money, don’t you?”

Yes, you do. Very much so. It’s a need, not a want. So you nod and try to listen as she keeps giving you the rundown. 

Before you’re ready, the first patrons start trickling in and then you’re off to the races. It’s not too bad. No one’s orders are too complicated, mostly just bottles of beer and glasses of straight whiskey. The bartender, Colin, is friendly enough, although you learn that he’s another person you’ll need to split your tips with. 

As for the touching, there are hands on your hips, pats to your ass. But you’re rewarded with folded-up bills held up between fingers or tucked into the strap of your top. Or, twice, slid behind the waistband of your skirt. Once you realize that the majority of these bills aren’t ones or fives, but twenties, you care about the touching that comes with them much less. Plus, you’re too busy to really think about it that hard. 

You can’t believe how busy it is for a random Tuesday night, multiple games of poker, craps, and who knows what else all going at once. But when you mention that to Holly, she just laughs and shakes her head. “This is nothing,” she says. “On the weekends there’ll be three more of us and another one of Jake. Things get wild.” 

You don’t have time to decide whether that makes you nervous or excited before someone is signaling for your attention again. You manage to suppress your grimace when he slides his arm around your waist to tell you what he needs from the bar. You’re rewarded for your troubles by a wad of twenties. You aren’t sure who these men are to tip so freely, but you know better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.

It’s an hour or two later that Lloyd calls you over to where he’s speaking to a large, impossibly broad man, dressed in a soft-looking henley under a leather jacket with dark jeans. There’s dark ink all over his hands that disappears up his sleeves and reappears on his neck in intricate lines. He’s got close-cropped hair and a full beard that’s neatly trimmed. His deep blue eyes drill into you right away and you do your best not to shiver.

“Got a new girl tonight, Everett. Still learning the ropes, but she’ll take good care of you, won’t you, Cupcake?” 

“Yes, of course,” you say, before Lloyd wanders off to check on one of the poker games.

The man, Everett, lets his eyes rove over you. “Cupcake, huh?” His voice is deep, gritty, but there's something there that's much gentler than you expected.

You give him what you hope is a coy smile. “Sure. If you want.” Lloyd was treating him like he's important. You hope important means deep pockets.

He hits you with a penetrative stare, so strong you almost have to take a step back. “No,” he finally says. “I don't think so. I'll find something more fitting.” Then he turns and starts to walk away, before calling over his shoulder. “I'm gonna get dealt in. Bring me a whiskey once I'm settled.”

You watch him go for just a moment, and then head to the bar, asking for a whiskey. 

“This for Everett?” the bartender, Colin, asks. When you nod, he grabs a fancy bottle off the top shelf. “This is all he drinks. And he doesn't pay for it, alright? Don't ever think about giving him a bill.” 

You look back at the man in question, seriously looking at the cards he’s just been dealt. Who is he???

You collect his whiskey and move back to him. As you set it down, he turns to you. “How about this?” he asks as he holds up a crisply folded hundred-dollar bill between two fingers. Your eyes widen at the money. All you’ve done is bring him one straight pour. “There’s another one of these in it for you if you make sure I never see the bottom of this glass tonight. Sound good?” And then he folds the bill one more time in his thick fingers, before sliding it under the low-cut neckline of your blouse. Your skin tingles where he brushes against it.

“Yeah, you got it,” you just breathe out, a little shocked you’re able to form words. He gives you a smug smile that you can only describe as shark-like before turning back to his cards, and you understand it as the dismissal that it is. 

You move around the room, collecting empties, getting refills, trying to goodnaturedly accept unsolicited touches. The whole time you feel eyes on you, but whenever you glance Everett’s way, he’s focused on his poker game.

Eventually, a down moment finds you catching your breath against the wall. The moment Holly sees you standing still, she’s quickly making her way to you. “You need to be more careful around Curtis,” she hisses, lowly.

You look at her, confused. “Curtis?” Jake’s at the door. Colin’s behind the bar. You don’t know a Curtis.

“Curtis Everett!” You glance at the man at the poker table. He’s running a poker chip across his knuckles mindlessly. Then he looks up and you briefly make eye contact before you quickly look away. Holly is staring at you and she looks worried. But the name still doesn’t mean anything to you, so you shake your head and shrug. She groans as quietly as she can. “He’s Barber’s top enforcer!”

This whole conversation feels so out of the blue that it takes you a minute to catch up. Barber. Andrew Barber. The most feared mob boss in the city. Probably the state. Maybe even more. Ruthless and exacting was how the papers described him. He’d been the subject of multiple stings and taskforces and whathaveyou but nothing ever stuck. “He works for Andrew Barber?” you ask, shocked and a little appalled.

Holly stares at you in a way that you can only describe as dumbfounded. It takes her a few moments to find her words, then, “Bitch, you work for Andrew Barber!”

Everything stops. “What?” you gasp.

“Oh my god,” Holly groans. “This was such a mistake. It’s an underground card game in his city! Who did you think was running things?”

“I– I don’t know,” you stutter, stupidly. The god’s honest truth is that you’d never really stopped to think about it. You’d been staring down an eviction, struggling to afford groceries. Unable to make ends meet no matter what you did. When Holly told you about this job, all you saw were dollar signs. You didn't think about anything further. Of course, you’d known these games were illegal, but it seemed so minor in the grand scheme of things. You hadn’t connected it to anything bigger because you just hadn’t wanted to.

But now– Now that you know the truth, what are you going to do? You know what you should do. You should walk out the door right now. You should find some other legitimate way to pay your bills. It’ll be safer. It’ll be better. It’ll be so much harder.

As you bite your lip, trying to process all of this information, Holly continues. “Listen,” she says, “still get him drinks, be friendly, whatever you need to do. But keep your distance however you can. Don't encourage him. He's just– He's really dangerous. They don't call him Barber’s attack dog for nothing, ok?”

“Yeah,” you say. You start to look back in Curtis’s direction but stop yourself. You think about the hundred you already have and the one promised to you at the end of the night. You think of how empty your pantry is. But then you see the genuine fear in Holly's eyes. You let out a shaky breath. “Yeah. I got it. Thanks.”

“He doesn't even come in here that often. I'm surprised to see him tonight, so I'm sure it’ll be fine,” she says, but you can tell she’s nervous.

You nod, absently, finally letting yourself glance over at him. His drink is getting close to the bottom. “Shit,” you mumble. “I gotta get him his refill.”

“Do you want me to do it?” Holly asks. 

You should let her do it. You absolutely should. But you just can’t give up on that tip. You shake your head. “No, I’ll be fine. But thanks.”

You head back to the bar and grab Curtis’s top-shelf whiskey of choice from Colin, then make your way to his table. You set it down next to him, hoping to move away without him even noticing, he’s so engrossed in the game. But as you take a step back, his hand shoots out to grab your wrist. He holds it tightly until you meet his eyes. “Good girl,” he murmurs, and you can’t help the sharp intake of breath or the way you feel his words in your knees. He strokes his thumb down the inside of your wrist, then abruptly lets go, pushing his chips to the middle of the table. You step away, gathering yourself as subtly as you can, and get back to work.

The rest of the night goes quickly. The crowd gets a little rowdier as they drink more, but you find that it’s nothing you can’t handle. The reality of who these people are, what they’re connected to, never leaves your mind. But really, they’re not so bad. None of this feels so bad at all. And soon, people start heading out. You’re beginning to clean up, when a recognizable voice rings out, “Bambi!” You turn and lock eyes with Curtis. He crooks two fingers at you and you quickly make your way over to him.

“Bambi?” you ask.

He grins at you and it feels more than a little predatory. You’ll never admit how much you like it. You try to keep Holly’s warning at the forefront of your mind. “Wide eyes and just getting your legs under you,” he says. You instinctively duck your head at that, which earns a dark chuckle. “Here,” he continues, as he pulls a genuine, fat money clip out of his back pocket. You’ve never seen something like it in real life before. He peels off two bills and holds them out to you. “This is what good girls get,” he says, a low rumble in his voice.

You swallow as you take them from him. Two hundred dollars. Twice what you were expecting. “Thank you,” you say quietly. 

He shakes his head. “You earned it.” Then, after one last long look at you, he turns around and leaves.

You stand and stare after him. You don’t doubt anything Holly said, but three hundred dollars, just for bringing him drinks. He doesn’t seem that bad, not really. A little intense maybe, but there’s some sort of interest there, and it can’t be that bad to encourage it, just a little if it earns you these sorts of tips, can it??

Any hesitance you have about this entire endeavor completely disappears as you count your money at the end of the night.

Your first week flies by. You're starting to get the hang of the job. You get along with your coworkers. You get to know the regulars. You like it. Even Lloyd isn’t so bad as long as you give him his cut at the end of every night.

And you’re making so much money.

In your downtime, you pay your landlord what you owe him. You go grocery shopping without scouring for coupons first or calculating exactly what you can afford beforehand. You make a Pinterest board of what you want your apartment to look like now that you might actually be able to buy things to fill it. For the very first time, you’re thinking about things you actually want, not just desperately trying to figure out how you’ll pay your bills. You’ve never felt this calm, this relaxed, this free before. It’s an incredible feeling.

And Curtis. Despite Holly’s reassurances that you wouldn’t see him much, he seems to be there whenever you are, trying to capitalize on his winning streak at the poker tables, you assume. His tips are still insanely generous. You don’t think he carries anything less than hundred dollar bills. 

And there’s just something about him. The way he looks at you. The way he touches you. It’s not like the other men here. His touch is like fire, warming from the inside. There’ve been times when his hand on your hip has almost made your knees buckle. That doesn’t happen with anyone else here.

But you’re being smart and you’re being safe. You are. You’re going to set a savings goal, you think. And once you hit that number, you’ll be out of here, onto something more legitimate. And until then, you’ll just keep your head down and mouth shut, like Holly said. You haven’t even really seen anything. It’s a good plan. It’ll be fine.

She’s right that the weekends are wilder. Even with three additional girls working the room, you’re kept running. You do your best to keep an eye on Curtis’s drinks, but it’s much harder than on weeknights. And you aren’t really able to pause when you drop them off. It’s one of these times, as you’re pulling away from the table as soon as you’ve set his glass down, that you’re stopped short by his hand on you. He pulls you back in by the wrist and says, “They’re just running you ragged tonight, huh, Bambi?”

You smile and shrug. “It’s busy.”

He holds out a bill and you try not to smile even wider as he slips it into the waistband of your skirt. “For all your hard work.”

You bat your lashes a little. “You spoil me.”

“I like spoiling you,” he says, lowly. 

“You’re too sweet,” you say softly. Then, pulling your arm away with a wink, you add, “Gotta run,” and you’re onto the next table.

You’re getting good at this, figuring out what level of harmless flirting is just enough to keep the money flowing. And you’re having fun. You’d never expected that.

Holly and two of the other girls, Jane and Kristi, are congregated at the end of the bar, waiting for drinks, when you join them. They’re all watching you warily. “So, uh,” Jane starts quietly, “you seem to be getting pretty cozy with Curtis.” 

Before you can respond, Holly scoffs behind her. “I’ve tried to warn her but she won’t fucking listen.”

You roll your eyes. You’re tired of hearing this. “I seriously don’t get what the big deal is. He’s nice and he tips well. It’s harmless!”

Kristi just gapes at you. “He’s nice?!”

Holly slams the drinks she was waiting for onto her tray. “Whatever,” she grumbles. “It’s her fucking funeral.”

You shake your head as you watch her go. It’s fine. You can take care of yourself.

The rest of the night goes by in a blur. You don’t get much of a chance to talk to Curtis, but you feel his eyes on you before he disappears a little before closing.

At the end of the night, once you’ve helped clean up, you cash out with Colin and Jake and then go to find Lloyd in his office. You think it’s kind of ridiculous that you’re basically paying him to work there, but it is what it is. And Holly was right, you’re making so much that you barely even notice. 

Lloyd is sitting at his desk, looking a little more disheveled than you’re used to. He startles at your approach, which is also new. 

“Oh, hey,” he says, with slightly rounded eyes. “What can I do for you?”

You look at him, a little confused. “Just here with your cut,” you say as you hold out his money.

His hands immediately fly up to his chest, palms out. “No, no,” he says. “You made that fair and square. You just– you keep what you make from now on, Cupcake. Sound good?”

You swallow and nod, preparing yourself for whatever other price you’ll have to pay for keeping your job, mentally calculating what you’re willing to do. But Lloyd doesn’t do anything, doesn’t make any move to get closer to you. Just stays there at his desk, turning back to his work. “You have a good night,” he says, clearly dismissing you. 

You leave confused, but richer, telling yourself not to question it too hard.

Things go so smoothly for a few weeks that you’re a little shocked when the bubble bursts. 

It’s a relatively quiet weeknight. There are a few games going, but nothing compared to the weekend. The pace of the night feels leisurely. It’s nice.

It’s maybe the first night you haven’t seen Curtis there. It feels weird. He’s become such a part of this place for you. A fixture, like the bar or the carpet. Just one of the elements that make it what it is. But it’s fine. Of course, he doesn’t come every night. He probably has a whole life outside of this. He must’ve gotten bored of playing cards. Oh well. It was nice while it lasted.

You’re passing the time talking to one of the regulars at the bar, Vinny. He’s in his fifties, you think, with gray hair and laugh lines. He’d gone bust at the poker table (or maybe it was craps tonight) earlier and then had moved to the bar to drink away his sorrows and bad luck. That was how his nights tended to go.

He’s sitting on a barstool, his arm around your waist where you stand next to him. He’s a little close for comfort, but he’s always just been a friendly guy, so you’re alright. Which is why you’re so surprised when, in the middle of a story about the good old days of the Copa Cabana, his other hand suddenly finds its way between your thighs. You freeze. For just a second. Then you force out a laugh and try to push his hand away. “Bad boy,” you try to tease, your voice shaking. His hand will not move. What is happening? “Come on, let’s keep our hands to ourselves.”

Instead of doing what you’ve asked, his thumb briefly brushes the inside of your leg and then his whole hand begins moving higher. You stop breathing. You push again but he won’t budge.

“You’re such a pretty doll, aren’tcha?” he says. 

Tears start to gather in your eyes. You look around wildly to see if anyone’s noticing what’s happening. Colin’s busy making drinks. Jake and Lloyd are talking by the door. Everyone else is engrossed in their own business. “Vinnie, stop, please,” you whisper. You don’t know why you can’t get your voice to work, can’t get your body to move.

“Come on,” he cajoles, “I’m being nice, aren’t I?” 

Then his thumb brushes against your panties and your entire body jolts into action. You wrench your leg out of his grasp and take several steps away from him. Your whole body is shaking now. “I gotta–” you start, trying to keep your tone casual and failing miserably. “I gotta get back to work, Vinny.” Then you grab your tray off the bartop and walk away as fast as you can.

You don’t really have a destination in mind. You pick up a few empties as you wander between tables. You can feel his eyes on you, following you. You try to take a deep breath, calm yourself down. It isn’t very helpful. You look up to see Jake by himself now. You make your way over to him, Holly’s words on your first night in your ears. That was out of hand, wasn’t it?

He looks up as you approach. His big golden retriever smile on his face. “Hey, what’s up?” Then he actually takes you in and his smile drops. “What happened?”

“Um, Vinny, he, uh–” You feel a few tears fall down your cheeks and you just shake your head.

Jake’s face darkens. “Did he hurt you?” 

“No, uh, he– he just–” You shake your head again. “No, he didn’t hurt me.”

Jake doesn’t say anything for a moment, just looks at you. There’s something about the way he does it that makes you think he understands everything you just can’t say. He nods once. “Alright. I’ll take care of it. You go take your time in the back. Do what you need to do. He’ll be gone by the time you’re done.”

You let out a shaky breath. “Okay, thank you,” you say so quietly. Then you get yourself to the back room as quickly as you can.

It’s really more of a hallway than a room, small and narrow. All of the storage space for the building is in the legitimate bar upstairs. But there’s enough room for you to crouch down, your knees pulled up tight to your chin. You bury your face in your thighs and let the tears you’ve been holding in finally fall. You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re safe. You’re fine. 

You don’t know how long you’ve spent trying to calm yourself down when a large shadow suddenly looms over you. It takes you a moment to gather your strength to find out who it is. You hope it’s Jake telling you Vinny’s gone. You’re afraid it might be Lloyd, here to tell you to get back to work. There’s a slowly building terror that it might be Vinny himself.

After a deep breath, you look up to find Curtis staring down at you, concern on his face and fiery anger in his eyes. “What happened?” he growls.

You shake your head and turn away. He crouches down in front of you. “Are you alright?”

A humorless, uncontrolled laugh escapes you. Once you finally stop, you ignore his question and ask your own, “Why are you here?”

It takes him a very long time to answer. He just looks at you seriously for several moments. Then, finally, “Jake called me.” While you try to figure out why on earth Jake would do that, he continues, “I'm sorry I wasn’t already here.”

“Why?” you blurt out without thinking. 

He looks away without saying anything. You both just sit in the silence for a few moments. Then, you try to change tactics. “Where were you?” you ask out of morbid curiosity. You can't imagine what his life is like outside of here.

“Working,” he says curtly. He plays with a ring on his middle finger and the movement draws your eyes to his hands, specifically his knuckles. They're scraped and caked with dried blood. 

You swallow and you catch how his eyes track the movement. His eyes are always on you. He catches everything. 

“Someone touched you?”

“Lots of people touch me,” you say, flatly. “It's part of the job. You touch me.”

His eyes narrow at that. “But this was different.” It isn’t a question.

You look down at your hands in your lap and don't say anything. 

“Tell me who it was.”

“No,” you say instinctively, something about the moment feeling incredibly dangerous. 

He huffs in frustration. “Are you trying to protect him?”

“No!” you say, sharply. “I’m protecting myself.”

“You don’t have to do that. Not from me. Not ever.”

You don’t know how to tell him that every atom in you knows that that isn’t true. You can’t explain it, and it wasn’t until the moment he joined you in this little closet, but you’d swear that he’s a danger to you. You just can't articulate how, but you feel it in your bones. And still, here you stay.

At your silence, he grits out, “If you don’t tell me who it was, Jake will.”

Jake probably already has, that’s what you’ve figured. “Great,” you say. “Then you don’t need me to say it.”

“Bambi,” he lets out in an exasperated growl. “I'm trying to help you.” 

You just look at him and then figure you may as well ask the main question that's on your mind. “Why did Jake call you?” 

He ignores you and stands up. “Come on,” he says and extends his hand, “I'm taking you home.”

You just blink up at him. “My shift isn't over.” 

He shakes his hand at you impatiently. “It is now. Come on.”

You shake your head. “Curtis, this is my job. I can't just– Lloyd will–”

“I'll take care of Lloyd. Let’s go.”

You think about going home. About sitting alone in your small apartment. At least here you'll have something to do, things to focus on, to keep you busy. At home, there'll be nothing to think about other than that hand between your legs and– “No,” you say as firmly as you can manage. “I'm staying here. I'm finishing the night.”

His jaw ticks but he doesn’t say anything, just tries to stare you down. You stare right back. You will not concede this. 

Finally, he exhales through his nostrils, then growls out an unhappy “Fine. But I'll–” He's interrupted by his phone ringing in his pocket. He takes it out and glances at the caller ID and sighs. “I have to take this.” He steps away as much as he can in the tiny area and answers with a curt “Everett.” There's a slight pause. “Yeah, I took care of it.” Another pause that has him glancing at you. “No, something else came up.”

You don't wait to hear the rest of the conversation. You take the opportunity to go back to the main room and get back to work. 

You don't see Curtis again that night. You don't spare much thought to where he might've gone. You're too focused on getting through the remainder of your shift. When it's done, Jake insists on seeing you home. You don't ask why. You already know who's behind it.

The next few days are fine. You try to put what happened behind you, doing your best to ignore it. But that becomes impossible when three days after the incident you watch Vinny walk in. You can’t help the little burst of panic you feel as you warily watch him sit down at his usual table and get dealt in. 

As subtly as you can, you make your way over to Jake. You don’t even say anything before he’s looking at you, chagrined. “I know,” he says. “I’m sorry, but I had to let him in. I promise it’s all going to be taken care of. It’s just– You can ignore him tonight, ok? Just trust me. You don’t need to worry about him. I promise.”

“Ok,” you say reluctantly, trying to resist looking back at Vinny. “I just– I didn’t think I’d have to see him again.”

“I really think that after tonight you won’t,” he says sincerely.

You don’t really understand what that means, but you nod anyway. “Ok,” you say. “I, uh, I should get back to work then.” 

He just nods after you, looking a little concerned and a little sad. But the room is filling up, so you don’t have time to delve into it.

Sometime later, as you’re taking a brief moment to idle by the bar, a strange hush descends over the room. You’re facing away from the door, away from the rest of the room, but you see Colin take in whatever it is that’s caused this. His face pales and he lets out a quiet, urgent, “Shit.” 

You turn around to see what on earth could be going on and you immediately freeze. Curtis is here. But that’s not what’s garnering all of this attention. Well, not all. Because he’s not alone, there’s a man with him. A little shorter, not quite as broad. But you’d be able to feel the power radiating off of him, even if you didn’t recognize him. Soft dark hair, thick beard, an immaculately tailored suit. You’ve seen him in the papers, on the news, but in real life, he’s even more intimidating. Andrew Barber.

Barber leans in close to say something to Curtis, who nods, eyes scanning the room until they land on you. Your breath catches, but luckily Colin calls your name behind you and you have an excuse to turn around. He places two glasses of dark liquor on the bar. “Everett,” he says, gesturing to one, then “Barber,” while waving his hand over the other. “Got it?” You nod and place them on your tray. They’re identical to your eyes except for the fact that Barber's has a muddled black cherry at the bottom of the glass.

You carefully bring them over, trying to force yourself to breathe. Curtis intercepts you and grabs the drinks when you're a few steps away. “Thank you, Bambi,” he says, lowly. 

Barber perks up. “This is Bambi? Really?” He extends a hand and you have no choice but to take it. “Andy Barber,” he says with a disarming smile. “It's a pleasure to meet you finally.”

His handshake is firm, demanding. He is terrifying in his friendliness. And he knows who you are. Has known, for who knows how long. You glance at Curtis, but he's just calmly drinking his whiskey. You don't know what to say, what are you supposed to say?? So after too long a pause, you practically whisper, “Thank you, Mr. Barber.”

He chuckles lightly as he takes back his hand. To Curtis, he says, “You're right, Bambi does suit her.” Then he turns back to you and adds, “Andy, please.”

“O– Okay, Andy,” you say, with what you desperately hope is a benign smile. You look over at Curtis, you’re not entirely sure why, but out of these two dangerous options, he, at least, is familiar. “I should get back to work.”

Curtis is staring at you, but it’s Andy who answers. “Mmm, and we have a game to join, don’t we?” Curtis nods but still doesn’t break his gaze. Andy smirks, “No rest for the wicked.”

You have no idea what to do with that sentiment, so you take the opportunity and get out of there. You walk through the tables, checking to see if anyone needs anything, but the mob boss’s physical presence seems to have ground all action to a halt. The room is collectively holding its breath. 

You go back to the bar for want of anything else to do. Colin is standing ramrod straight, coiled in case he needs to spring into action. Lloyd is sitting down at the end of the bar, drumming his fingers, eyes moving all around the room. You settle next to Holly, who looks just as scared as she did that first night when she was trying to warn you off of Curtis. “Is this,” you start to ask, your voice shaking. “Is this normal? Does he come here a lot?”

“No, never” she shakes her head. “Why would he come here? He has real clubs and restaurants. He doesn’t need to hang out in a shit hole like this.” She shakes her head again. “He’d only come here for a reason.”

You turn your head back to the room and find that Andy and Curtis have settled at Vinny’s table, joining his game across from him. Your heart lands in your throat. That can’t– No. You’re just some cocktail waitress. Even with Curtis’s obvious interest in you, you aren’t important enough to bring the most powerful man in the city here. You’re nothing. He must have other reasons.

The room is quiet enough to hear a pin drop as everyone waits for something to happen, which is why when Andy does start speaking, you don’t have to strain your ears to pick up every word.

He looks at his cards carefully, then over at Vinny. “You know, Vinny, you’re a hard man to track down.” His voice is so calm, it sends a chill up your spine. “You don’t go home, we can’t find you at work. I was starting to get worried.” He runs a few chips through his fingers before tossing them into the center of the felt. “That’s why, when I heard you were showing up here, I sent my best man to investigate,” he nods towards Curtis, “just to make sure you were ok.” 

You don’t have a great view of Vinny from where you’re standing, but you can see how stiff he is, how silent. But he still calls when it’s his turn.

“You can imagine my relief when I found out you were alright. Except,” he raises again, a few more chips into the pot, “you’re losing a lot of money, aren’t you? Now, this upsets me. Not because you’re losing your own money. But because it’s mine, isn’t it?”

Vinny finally tries to pipe up. “Andy, hold on. I can ex–”

“You owe me $150,000, Vinny. With interest, that total’s climbing every day. And yet, you sit here and you just keep losing, don’t you? At my own game. What would you do if you won, huh? Would you really try paying me back with my own money? I thought maybe you’d at least have the smarts to cross the border and try this at one of Roger’s casinos. Huh? Paying me back with my enemy’s money, at least that I could respect. But no, it’s only me you think is stupid enough to fall for your bullshit. So now I’m here to give you the chance to fucking do it to my face.” With that, he violently pushes all of his chips into the center of the table. 

Everyone else has folded. It’s just Barber and Vinny now. You’re not sure Curtis even actually played. He’s just staring Vinny down, although occasionally his eyes will flick up and meet yours. You hate feeling like you’re a part of this, but you don’t know what else to do besides watch it play out.

Vinny is just spluttering, while Andy calmly looks on. It’s all the expected, cliche stuff you’ve seen in gangster movies. He’s got the money, he swears. He just needs a little more time. Andy has to know he’s good for it! You want to roll your eyes right along with Andy.

“Call, Vinny,” Andy cuts him off, sternly. “That’s $150,000 I just put in the pot. Call. And if you win, we’re even. Your debt’s erased. But if you lose, well then that’s $300,000 you’ll owe me. And you know I won’t be able to tolerate that. So call. And let’s find out where we stand.”

You can’t see what Vinny’s doing, but you can imagine the way his fingers must be hovering over his chips, his eyes moving down to his cards to check, one more time, if they’re as good or bad as he remembers. You know there’s no way out for him either way. He’ll have to call. He’s just delaying the inevitable.

You feel like you can't breathe as you wait for him to just finally do it, but Andy cuts in again. “The thing I can't understand, Vinny, is why you kept coming here after Curtis showed up. Either you're very stupid or really fucking greedy.” He looks at Vinny carefully. “Maybe a little of both. I hear you've been touching something that doesn't belong to you.”

You gasp. No one notices, but you do. He can't be talking about you. He can't. He can't. 

Vinny seems even more confused than you. “What are you talking about? I haven't touched anything!”

Andy continues to ignore him. “So you're stupid and greedy. That's why you aren't afraid of him like you should be. They call him my attack dog, did you know? Have you heard that? Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe you think he’s some puppy that follows me around. You’d be stupid to underestimate him, underestimate me. But maybe you only do that because you've never seen my dog off his leash.”

Curtis springs into action, lunging across the table to grab Vinny by the collar, and then slams his head into the felt. Before there’s even time to react, he’s stood and he's picking Vinny back up and hurling him onto the floor. Curtis comes around the table to stalk after him and the look on his face has you gasping for breath. You've never seen Curtis like this. There's a glint in his eye that might be the scariest thing you've ever seen. Who is this man? What is he capable of?

Vinny is dazedly trying to crawl away, but Curtis catches him easily. He grabs Vinny’s collar and hauls him back up, delivering two punches to his face in quick succession. The sound it makes. There's no other sound in the whole room. No one's saying anything, no one's doing anything. Everyone's just watching, hypnotized. You turn away, your stomach churning. Your eyes catch on Andy, sitting back in his chair, placidly drinking the whiskey you brought him, completely relaxed, like he's watching anything else. You can't look at him either. 

The room is completely silent except for the crunching of bones, Vinny’s whimpers, and Curtis’s grunts. You look up again to be startled by eye contact with Curtis. His eyes are wild, unhinged. Feral. But there's something else in it, like all of this is for you. That all of you are there, everything is happening, because Vinny dared to touch you. It takes your breath away. It’s mesmerizing.

Andy finally stands and strides over to where Curtis is holding Vinny up in the middle of the room. He looks down at Vinny, then spits in his face. “I'm tired of trying to draw blood from a stone,” he says. Then he turns to Curtis and finishes, “Get rid of him.”

Curtis gives you one last long look, his face unreadable. You feel it in your knees. Then he drags Vinny out, leaving a bloody trail behind him.

The moment they're gone, it's like the entire room can breathe again. “Lloyd,” Andy calls out. “How ‘bout a round for everyone? On me.”

Lloyd nods to Colin who hurriedly starts pouring drinks. And you, so grateful for something to do, instead of just standing there, shaking, start loading the glasses on your tray.

As you begin to pass them out, Andy of all people, pulls you aside. “Bambi,” he says quietly, “I hope you know now, we take care of our own.”

You gaze at him, shocked. It feels like a comfort and a threat. But why? It's not so much the implication that this all had something to do with you, but you can't for the life of you imagine what you've done to get yourself to a place where Andy Barber might consider you his, however distantly. It can't just be that you work here. You can't picture him doing something similar for Holly or Colin. Once again, this all feels so incredibly dangerous. 

While you're struggling to come up with anything to say to that, he grabs a drink off your tray and downs it quickly. Then, with a wink, he turns and leaves. You’re left staring after him until someone calls after you and you're scrambling to pass out drinks again. 

The night ends quickly. No one seems eager to stay and drink and play after everything that's happened. Not when there's still blood on the floor.

You do what you can to help clean up, but when you stare at the stain helplessly, Lloyd tells you not to worry about it. He's got a guy.

Colin walks out with you so you aren’t in the parking lot alone. You're grateful. You're still so shaken. As you approach your car, your beater that you still don’t quite have the money to replace, you see someone leaning against it. You stop short, looking to Colin for help, but he just keeps walking to his own car, his head down. That’s when you know it’s Curtis. 

You take a deep breath and then force yourself to keep walking towards him. You can't begin to parse how you feel to see him now. Your keys are ready in your hand like you might just get in and drive off without speaking to him. You know you won’t.

When you reach him, his voice is rough as he asks, “Are you ok?” He’s cleaned up. There’s no more blood on his hands, his clothes have been straightened.

You open your mouth to answer, even though you have no idea, so instead what comes out is “Did you kill him?”

“Did you want me to?” is his immediate reply.

It stops you in your tracks as all sorts of feelings come bubbling up, ones you can not, will not examine. This is about his propensity for violence, how terrifying he became, not– No. “Did you?” you insist. 

He looks at you carefully then shakes his head. “I don't think you actually want me to answer that.”

“But you've killed before?” You can't stop yourself from pressing, from pushing. You don’t know why. 

He just sort of smiles, gently almost, in a way that is deeply unsettling. “You need to stop asking questions you aren’t ready for me to answer, Bambi.” And it’s the way he says the nickname, like you really are that babe in the woods, just born with no knowledge of the world around you, that has your hackles rising.

“Andy called you his dog,” you say, like he should be offended.

To your surprise, he laughs, his head thrown back. Then he takes a step closer to you, and you take the opportunity to sneak in behind him, get to your car. You realize your mistake immediately when he turns back around and cages you in, your back pressed against the driver’s side door. “Everyone calls me his dog. Because he’s the civilized man in the designer suit, and I’m the animal just begging for a reason to slip my leash.”

Your heart pounds wildly in your chest. You should get into your car. You should drive away as fast as you can. You should never come back. But you don’t. “You did it for him,” you say, mustering all the strength into your voice that you can. “You didn’t do it for me.”

He leans over you, the space between you shrinking rapidly. “Yeah, he asked me to do it,” he nods. “But if he hadn’t, I still would have done it. For you.”

 You try to shake your head, to tell him that that can’t be true, even as a wild, loud part of you starts to rise up and claw out of your chest. You try to tamp it down, deny it, but before you can, Curtis is leaning in further, his whole body pressing against you, and then he covers your lips with his.  

There’s a heat that comes up out of him that fills you, the instant his skin touches yours. His hands are on you, your neck, your hip. You can’t keep track, can only say that his hands are there, everywhere, that his body touches all of yours, that his lips and his tongue are demanding, unrelenting. You are burning up from the inside.

Too soon, but ages later, he pulls away. His eyes are on fire as he looks at you. Then he tears his gaze away, and hits the roof of your decrepit car twice, looking at it disdainfully. “You get home safe,” he says, then steps back to allow you the space you need to get into your car.

You do what he wants you to do. You get in your car, sit in the driver’s seat, and then stare blankly out the windshield. You’ve never felt so out of control in your life. How did this happen? You were flirting for tips, that was all! You encouraged it for money, that was it, and now– You press your thighs together, trying not to pant. You will not be unmoored. 

A slight movement in your periphery makes you notice that Curtis is still standing just to the side of your car, watching you. You turn your keys in the ignition and shift into drive.

It doesn’t mean anything it doesn’t mean anything it doesn’t mean anything, you chant to yourself all the way home.

It’s your next shift back, and everything seems to have changed. You don’t understand it. You keep doing laps of the room, keep sidling up to regulars you were so friendly with just a few nights ago, but now, they won’t even look at you, let alone touch you. No one’s ordering anything.

Or at least, they aren’t ordering from you.

Holly has been running around nonstop all night, basically having to take care of the entire room by herself. You watch man after man after man slip her little bundles of money. 

You want to scream. What the fuck happened? What did you do? What are you going to do?

You go to stand by the bar to wait for something you can do. Colin gives you a brief nod of acknowledgment but that’s it. He’s been cold, too. No. Not cold, distant. You don’t understand what’s changed.

You take a deep breath. It’s one weird night. Things will be better tomorrow.

Things don’t get better. The next night is the same. You’re starting to panic. This job was supposed to be your lifeline. Without it, without the money you were making, you’re not sure how you’ll survive.

Curtis comes in after a couple of hours of nothing. You could cry you’re so happy to see him. But terrified too. If he gives you the cold shoulder, this job really is over. But you have no idea how he’s going to act, not after what happened last time. You’re not sure how you’re going to act either. You can still feel his lips on yours.

You bring him his whiskey immediately and he greets you with an arm around your waist, pulling you in. “Hey Bambi,” he says quietly. Then he gets a good look at you. “What’s wrong?” 

You look at him carefully, not sure what to confide. You aren’t even sure what the problem is. You shake your head. “Not my best night,” you say with a tired smile. “But I’m fine.”

He stares at you for a moment, then stands up. “Come on,” he says, grabbing your hand and leading you to the little back room. You feel eyes on the two of you the whole way there.

Once he’s closed the door behind you both, he asks again, “What’s wrong?”

You sigh. “The last two nights have been weird here. I don’t– I don’t know. I’m just worried. I don’t know what happened but I’m not making any tips. No one’s treating me like they used to.”

“Mmm,” Curtis hums thoughtfully. “I think,” he says as he takes two steps closer to you, which in this small space is significant, “everyone else here has figured it out.”

It’s suddenly a little hard to breathe with him standing over you like this. His presence, his attention is always so much. “Figured what out?” you ask, confused.

“That I have lost my patience for watching other men touch you.” 

It hits you like a freight train. “What?” It comes out in a whisper.

“I’ve let this go on for too long,” he says, his voice is calm, casual. “I don’t want you working here anymore. This is done.”

“I– What? Curtis. What?! I have to work! I have to pay my bills! I don’t understand. I don’t–”

He takes one last step forward. You feel the heat coming off of him. “Shh,” he soothes, cradling your cheek in his hand. “It’ll be alright. I’ll take care of you. I take care of what’s mine.”

You pull your face away, even as the urge to nuzzle into him is so strong. You feel like you’ve missed something, a thousand things. You feel too many steps behind. “Curtis, I’m not– I’m not yours.”

Something comes into his eyes and you’re reminded of him standing over Vinny, covered in blood. His hand travels down from your cheek. He strokes your throat once, and then his hand closes around it. “Look me in the eye,” he growls, “and say that again.”

His hand is firm, snug, but it doesn’t tighten. But you can imagine so easily how it might. You look him in the eye. You open your mouth, ready to say it again. But then– then you see it. In the way he looks at you, the way he’s always looked at you. You feel it in his grip on you, now. You can’t deny it anymore. 

Curtis shoves you into his bedroom. You’re panting already. You need his hands on you, right now. You don’t have to ask for it. He gets you to the center of the room and yanks down your skirt, tearing it in the process. You step out of it and take your blouse off, throwing it on top of your skirt. Curtis’s eyes are cataloging your body, the swell of your breasts spilling out of your bra, your soft tummy, thick thighs. His gaze, as always, takes your breath away.

You reach out for Curtis’s shirt, but he grabs your hands. “I want you on your knees,” he growls and you immediately kneel for him. He throws off his shirt, revealing the expanse of his chest, the muted blacks and grays of his tattoos. You’re desperate to run your hands over them, trace the art, but instead, they just twitch at your side. He'll tell you what you're allowed to do.

He begins unbuttoning his jeans and your mouth drops open. He chuckles darkly. “Perfect little slut.” He takes his phone out of his back pocket and aims it at you, taking a picture as you gaze up at him under your lashes, your mouth wide open. “I've been dreaming of getting you on your knees for me.” He puts his phone on his dresser, then continues taking off his pants. “You ready to choke on my cock, baby?”

“Please,” you whine. You're practically salivating now. His bare thighs are as thick as tree trunks, the muscles corded. His abs ripple as he moves. His shoulders, his back. You want.

He frees his cock and rolls his black boxer briefs down his legs, stepping out of them. It's long and thick, just like the rest of him. Your breath catches. You don't think you've ever taken something that big before.

He takes a few steps so he's completely in your space, his cock bobbing right in front of your face. He takes it in one hand, the other firmly on the back of your head and slowly feeds the tip into your mouth. You taste his musk on your tongue. As he rocks into your mouth, going a little further each time, your hands come up to grasp his thighs. On his next thrust in, you run your tongue along the underside of his dick. His movements stutter just a little and then he looks down at you, a smirk overtaking his face. It's just a touch mean, in a way that has you soaking your panties. “You ready?” he asks, his voice rough. And then without waiting for the answer, he thrusts in all the way, making you take him deep in your throat.

You flail, slapping his thigh as you try to swallow around him, breathing frantically through your nose. After holding you there for a moment, he sets a brutal but steady pace. It takes you a moment, but you find your rhythm, your panic subsiding. Once you feel steady, you lift one hand from his thighs and bring it up to cradle his balls. “Fuck, Bambi,” he grinds out. “You're gonna– I– fuck!” His hand moves from the back of your head down to the back of your neck, which he grips firmly, pulling you off his cock. As you cough and splutter on the floor, he growls, “The first time you make me come is gonna be inside that perfect cunt.”

He helps you stand on wobbly legs, then shoves his hand between your legs, cupping your pussy over your panties. “Shit, fucking soaked just from deepthroating me?”

You let out a needy little whine, trying to push further into his hand, but he withdraws it, instead settling on your hip. “Well,” he grins, “if they’re ruined anyway…” then uses that hand to rip the black lace down the side, letting them fall to the floor. He makes quick work of your bra as well, then takes a step back and sighs, “Shit, Bambi, look at you.” It’s the reverence in his voice and on his face that has you launching yourself at him, unable to keep from kissing him any longer. He lets you, quickly taking control, letting you feel all his hunger, the want he’s kept barely bottled up since he first laid eyes on you. You understand it all now. His erection brushes against you, and now it’s his turn to whine, just a little. 

He pulls away, brushing a hand down your cheek, then says “Get on the bed, on your stomach.” You quickly comply, laying in the center of the bed with your knees pulled up and spread beneath you. He brings his hand down on one asscheek harshly and you can’t help the lewd moan that escapes you. He chuckles, “Oh, I will definitely remember that for later.” He grabs your hips and cants them up, then whistles at your exposed cunt. “I knew it. Absolutely beautiful.” Then he unceremoniously shoves two fingers into your hole and you choke on nothing. “Shh,” he coos. “You can take it. My cock’s gonna be a lot thicker.” 

As he starts scissoring his fingers inside you, you can’t hold it in any longer and start babbling. Mostly a combination of “please,” and “Curtis,” and “I need,” over and over.

“I know, baby,” he says as he pulls his fingers out of you. “I’ve got what you need right here.” You have a brief moment to feel the tip of his cock on your pussy lips before he’s thrusting it into you, as far as he can go without making it hurt. 

“Oh my god,” you cry, pressing your forehead into the mattress and balling his dark blue sheets in your hands. You feel so full. It’s so good. He’s working himself into you as quickly as he can, desperate now. You both are. Once he bottoms out, fully seated in you, he pauses. Then with one hand on your stomach and the other around your neck, he pulls you up onto your knees, your back flush to his chest. You cry out at the new angle; he’s somehow even deeper now. He starts thrusting up into you at a punishing pace. You’re bouncing up and down in his firm grasp. The hand on your neck turns your head to face him, his lips brushing against yours. He holds eye contact with you as the hand on your stomach snakes down your pelvis so his thick fingers can begin circling your clit. “Fuck! Curtis, please!” you shout. 

“Yeah, come on,” he breathes, “you can let go. You can do it. Come for me like a good girl.” It’s those words that send you careening over the edge, your cunt pulsing around his cock, squeezing him until he’s coming too with a grunt, filling you up until both your cum is leaking out around him. 

He holds you there, on your knees, as you both come down, your twin pants all you can hear.

You wake up slowly, the sun shining on you through the soft drapes. You start to shift then groan at how stiff you are. The night before comes back to you. Curtis took you two more times before you both collapsed in satisfied exhaustion. He’s still out like a light beneath you. 

You take a moment to look at him. It’s odd to see him so peaceful, so still. There’s nothing of the feral predator he projects to the world. It makes you feel oddly close to him, seeing him like this.

You carefully get up without disturbing him and begin collecting your clothes. You put on your bra, but there’s no saving your panties. Same for your skirt; it’s ripped along the seam. So instead you pick up Curtis’s t-shirt from last night and put it on. It smells like him. You breathe it in shamelessly knowing there’s no one to witness it.

You savor the soreness as you move out of the bedroom. It’s like you can still feel him inside you, how much he wanted you, needed you. It makes you feel a little powerful, having that effect on a man like him.

You make your way into his living room. You didn’t really have a chance to look at his house last night, as determined as he was to get you into the bedroom. If you’d ever thought to picture it, this wouldn’t be far off. It’s all rich blues and greens and grays, leather and dark wood. Masculine. It suits him. 

As you’re admiring the room, you hear footsteps behind you and then two big arms are encircling your waist, pulling you into him. “Good morning,” he rasps. 

You turn your head to him. “Good morning,” you say with a smile.

“Fuck, Bambi, you’re even hotter in my shirt than you were last night.”

You smirk at him even as your face heats. “Mmm,” you hum. “It’s comfy. You might not get it back.” He nuzzles into your neck as you continue. “I was hoping you might have something I could wear for bottoms, too. You destroyed my skirt.”

His beard roughly drags against your skin as he asks, “Why the hell would I let you wear bottoms?”

You laugh. “Because I have to leave the house, Curtis.”

“No, you don’t,” he says as his hand begins to move between your thighs.

You playfully swat him away, even as you feel yourself getting wet again from his attention. “I have to go home.”

“Why? You’re staying here.” It’s how certain he sounds that has you turning around in his arms.

“What?”

“I don’t like your building. It isn’t safe enough. Now that I finally have you, of course, I’m going to keep you here with me.”

Once again, you feel too many steps behind. You just blink at him, confused. How does he even know where you live??

He takes your chin in his hand, his fingers gentle. “I told you, Bambi, I take care of what’s mine.”

Tag list

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[thyme-in-a-bubble]

Hi! Hope this is ok and got a nsfw idea

What if werewolf steve x vampire reader x vampire bucky

Y/n was all alone ending up entering their turf. They dont wanna end her noo . They wanna keep her as their mate

a/n: you sent this yumminess to me last night literally minutes before i fell asleep, then i couldn't stop thinking about it so i wrote it while eating breakfast lol

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist

“Oh, honey…” you heard Bucky purr as he teasingly let his fangs graze across your neck, “I’m older and thereby stronger than you,” his cock throbbed against your bottom as he kept his hold tight, holding your wiggling frame up far above the ground, your back against his chest and keeping you in place for the lycanthrope before you, “so you might as well just stop struggling.”

Slick symphonies accompanied Steve’s movements as he attempted to stuff the big knot at the base of his already intimidating length inside your cunt. Each thrust of his hips gradually grew harsher as he tried needlessly to plug it inside, though still without success, your pussy only drooling from his ruthless efforts though still not able to let that part of him into your warmth. 

“Or not,” Steve then smirked as he lowered his fingers to smear more of your messy cream against his bulbous base he so fiercely desired to feel inside of you, “I think it’s kinda fun watching you try.”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[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.

[littlemelaninfics]

@mikeyss1ut @yourmommygay

HAVE YOUR AGE SOMEWHERE OR GET BLOCKED

For those of you wondering where I am, I have no motivation to write as my wishes are not being respected. @littlemelaninfics IS FOR ADULTS 18+. I will increase it to 21+ if I have to.

I just got the full on ICK that a 14 year old CHILD IS READING MY SMUT ABOUT SEXUAL ABUSE. Not only reading it, but having the AUDACITY to interact with it. Are you fucking kidding me?

And the 17 year old is no better. GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME! I do NOT want to imagine Chris looking at a 17 year old’s pierced clitoris. This is where fiction gets separated from reality.

I am ALL for free expression when it comes to art and writing is a true art. So when a creator makes a character underage, it’s because it’s FICTION. You would NOT find those types of books in a high school library (unless in the curriculum) so why the fuck are you interacting with them like it’s okay?

I AM A 24 YEAR OLD (next week) GROWN ASS WOMAN. I DO NOT HAVE CHILDREN OF MY OWN SO WHY WOULD I WANT TO INTERACT WITH YOU OR HAVE YOU INTERACT WITH ME. WE HAVE NOTHING IN COMMON.

It’s shit like this (and low interactions such as reblogs 😅) that is tanking tumblr writing. No one 18+ wants to write about smut or heavy angst in case a child reads it and then lets you know they read it. I can’t control what you consume, but the second you interact with me is when I get involved.

I don’t know who needs to hear it, but minors reading smut and violent smut at that, about grown ass men is just as creepy and disgusting as a grown man doing it to a minor. (Click the link)

STAY THE FUCK IN YOUR LANE

[babyjakes]

you all over me.

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | kinkmas 2023

prompt | double penetration

pairing | soft!dark!daddies!steve rogers and ari levinson x little!reader

warnings | dark ddlg dynamic (soft!dark!daddies of captive!little!reader.) dub/non-con. size kink. reader is held down and fucked. stretching. loss of anal virginity. unprotected double penetration (vaginal and anal.) mentions of anal training/stretching/fingering. clit rubbing. crying kink. praise and encouragement. mocking/humiliation. forced orgasm (with implied previous forced orgasms.) overstimulation. they come in her. little bit of aftercare.

word count | 1,386

an | this is written in the same au as clear blue water, with captive!reader and her soft!dark!daddies.

Tears poured down your damp cheeks as your face was tucked into the warm crook of Steve's neck. Arms reaching up weakly, you almost wanted to cling to the safety of his broad form as he lay beneath you, heavy breaths harmonizing with your own.

But that wouldn't do for your daddies- not for either of them. "Come on, babydoll. Where's that pretty face," the blonde crooned as his hips thrust upward over and over, rocking your own. His hands were on your waist, Ari's just above them as both the men worked to keep you upright and in place, their massive lengths pounding into you with steady rhythm.

They had been fucking you like this for what felt like hours, but the sensations of fullness and overstimulation you were experiencing were still just as overwhelming and horrible as when they had first pushed into you. Steve had gone first, both of the men knowing you would tolerate his part better. They were a bit concerned when you were in tears from the vaginal penetration alone, but as usual, they wouldn't be discouraged. As difficult as it was, and as pitiful as you were to watch as you were held down and split open, Ari was eventually able to work himself into you as well.

As they kept their four strong hands on you, working you up and down over their throbbing cocks like nothing more than a fleshlight with a pulse, you honestly couldn't tell which forceful insertion felt worse. It was all blurring together, the world nothing more than a streaky haze through your steady tears. The men shared a sympathetic glance with each other before Steve refocused his attention back on you. "Poor girl," he murmured lowly, bringing a hand up to brush away your tears with his thumb. "Know it's so hard, little one. So hard to take both your daddies' cocks at the same time, isn't it?"

"So full, aren't you, baby?" Ari nodded in agreement, his oversized member stretching your poor little bottom to its absolute limit. Despite the generous amount of lube they'd used and the time they'd spent patiently coaxing your tiny hole open with their greedy fingers, nothing could ease the horrible burning feeling that bloomed through your lower half as you were taken in the ass for the very first time.

"Look so pretty like this, all stretched out stuffed full of us," Steve groaned, his cock twitching so hard within your aching walls that you could feel it, your poor tummy spasming in response. To the man lying comfortably on his back, there had never been a sight quite as beautiful as this: watching from the front as your tiny holes were so helplessly violated, large hands holding you in place and giving you no choice but to sit there and take it, your perky tits bobbing perfectly as your figure was worked at a steady, punishing pace.

And though he couldn't see your chest as well, or the pretty little faces you were making as your body was used and abused so sinfully, Ari's view from behind you wasn't anything to turn his nose up at, either. He loved the way your back arched up as their dicks kept you angled forward towards Steve, your adorable ass bouncing in rhythm as his cock tore into your throbbing, achy hole. He could easily keep you going with just his hands alone; with both him and Steve being so much larger and stronger than you, it wasn't difficult for either one of them to overpower you and allow the other to make better use of a second pair of hands.

Which is just what Steve did as his partner held you up and in place, giving him the signal of a nod. "Go ahead, Stevie. Let's give some attention to that pretty little clit of hers," Ari suggested. Steve spit on his thumb, bringing the other hand down to pull back its protective hood as he smeared the clear wetness all over your poor little bundle of nerves. Your body jerked harshly at the stimulation, but you couldn't do anything to stop them or squirm away; you were completely helpless, having no choice but to let the blonde rub your exposed little nub in quick, harsh circles.

"Please, p-please... n-no!" you choked through your tears as your whole body began to shake with sobs.

"C'mon doll, doesn't that feel good? Know you like it when we pull back the hood and rub you right there, right on your cute little button," Steve frowned and faked worry at your cries, though he and Ari both knew perfectly well the way their actions and words were tormenting you.

"That's right," Ari mused from behind you as he kept your trembling body moving across their stiff lengths, "our pretty girl loves having her sweet little clit rubbed. Makes her come so hard, doesn't it Stevie? Poor baby can't help it when her daddies play with her clit, but it sure is cute to watch her try and fight it."

"So cute," Steve hummed in agreement, watching intently as your breaths began staggering, your little feet kicking weakly as your knees shook and struggled on either side of him. "Oh? Looks like she's getting close here," the blonde sang as he continued his skillful work over your slick, sticky nub. "Can feel her little pussy fluttering- what do you think, babydoll? You gonna be a good girl and come for your daddies?"

Watching as your buildup continued, Ari and Steve shared a knowing nod, both increasing the speed of their respective roles as their cocks pumped more vigorously inside you. This is the moment they had been waiting for; of course they were hoping to come as you did. A few orgasms had been forced from your trembling form earlier as you were held down by one and stretched out on the other's fingers, but this was meant to be the grand finale, the climax you would all share, whether you were willing or not.

"Can feel her squeezing us- she's getting close," Ari grunted as their dicks clapped lewdly into your dripping holes. "That's it, sweetheart. Come on, almost there..."

Your resistance was a losing game. As much as you fought and defied them each time, a sense of helplessness was never absent from within you; you knew you'd be forced to come. And with both of them thrusting into you at an almost immeasurable speed, and Steve's torturous hands working your clit the way he knew best, there was nothing for you to do but let them have their way with you. Eyes squeezing shut as your tummy tightened, your little toes curled as your orgasm was ripped from your faltering grasp. You came long and hard, Steve and Ari's triumphant words of praise merely echoes as heat and shocks of ecstasy overcame your exhausted body.

Warmth burst in your core as you were pumped full of both the men's come, Ari's fingers digging in almost painfully around your waist as their cocks swelled and sputtered within you. When you were finally coming down from your impressively long high, you let out a soft, broken cry as Steve finally eased your body down to rest limply against his front. "Shhh," you could hear him humming soothingly, someone's hand rubbing your back as you sniffled and sobbed into your captor's chest. "Easy pulling out of her," he was murmuring to Ari as the world seemed to slow around you.

"You're okay, baby. You were so good for us," the brunette was praising you softly from behind as he shifted a bit inside you, trying to measure how careful he needed to be as he and his partner now shifted their focus towards damage control.

"Don't cry, little one. Daddy's here, Daddy's got you," Steve kissed the top of your head as he cooed at you, his broad arms cradling you lovingly as you clung to him. You were desperate for any comfort and tenderness you could get at this point, even if it was straight from the hands of your abusers. This is usually how you wound up at the end of the day, a weeping mess in your daddies' arms, and they wouldn't have it any other way.