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EXILED NOMAD SERIES

a series of encounters that could have happened between Civil War and Infinity War

Steve doesn't regret going against the The Sokovia Accords. He never would have signed them, he had to be there for Bucky, and together they had to stop Zemo. He doesn't regret anything, but he's not happy that he and some of his closest friends are on the run from 117 116 of the governments of the world. It eats at him. That festering wound leaves a Nomad who's not the Steve he used to be.

And it's this exiled Nomad Steve Rogers you cross paths with.

Content Warnings: [check individual parts for their respective warnings] SOFT DARK STORY, explicit smut, rough sex, emotionally damaged Steve, lonely reader

SERIES: ↠ July 3, 2017: When He First Got Me (Steve POV) ↠ July 4, 2017: You Should've Seen Him ↠ March 10, 2018: It Fit Too Right ↠ March 21, 2018: Puzzle Pieces in the Dead of Night ↠ more coming soon

Dive under

part of Summer Garden project

Dom!Ari Levinson x sub!female reader

summary: Putting sunscreen on your man has never been so intense as it turns out to be with Ari. Especially his reward of your service steals your breath away...

warnings: bdsm; ssc/rack (safe sane consensual/risk aware consensual kink); Dom!Ari; submissive Reader; power exchange; cockwarming; asphyxiation; asphyxiation by submerging/drowning; sex; aftercare;

Heart of Ruby Masterlist

Ruby Garden Masterlist

Author's Note: This is a part of a series, but can be read as stand alone. And it's my entry for Essie's @bigtreefest Summer Lovin' 300 Followers Celebration! ☀️🎉I used: putting sunscreen on one another and pool. It's utterly filthy smut, but finished with a sweet dollop of care and connection, so I hope it soothes the burn that the smut part causes 😂

You thought the scorching flames of the current heatwave were going to be the reason for your ultimate death, but you were wrong.

The cause of immediate heart failure and dehydration (due to melting and dripping) was Ari.

A summer god, with his sunkissed skin and a beautiful peppering of freckles atop his shoulders, whose big hands should be registered as lethal.

The eagerness and giggle with which you responded to his soft demand to help rub sunscreen into your skin have quickly dissolved into a growing need. 

Ari’s touch was firm enough to turn the sweet gesture into a foreplay that had your breath quickening and your lips parting on more than one gasp. To your great dismay, he stopped once he was done and gave you that warning glare when you pouted and wiggled your butt. 

“You did me, so I get to do you,” you poked your tongue between your teeth and flashed him a cheeky smile. 

“Of course.” Ari nodded, but before you got a hold of the sunscreen bottle he snatched it away.

“No hands, Cherie.” He announced in that annoyingly calm, confident tone that meant no budging even if you poked at him with all your might. 

“No hands?” You frowned. “Then how am I supposed to oil you up?”

A twinkle lit Ari’s blue eyes, that evil spark foreshadowing some delicious suffering coming your way. And your Dom’s type of suffering was of the wicked kind. Intense. Which you both hated and loved. Okay, so you loved it more. But there was still that trepidation mixed in with excitement. 

He moved his hand to the back of your neck and pulled at the string tying the top of your bikini. Then he loosened the one around your ribcage, letting the scrap of fabric fall free to the ground. 

You stared up at him; your brain not yet catching up with what was obviously as scandalous as a ridiculous plan. 

The splash of sunscreen on your naked breasts shook you from the stupor. Your gaze dropped down, watching Ari pour more oil between and onto your boobs.

“Are you serious?” You huffed, yet you felt heat creeping up your face at the prospect of pressing yourself so close to Ari to smear that oil onto his skin. 

One look from Ari was enough for you to instantly start into action, no further command was needed. 

As he sat on the deckchair, you knelt behind him and pressed your chest to his back. You rolled your eyes, since he couldn’t see it facing away from you. This was the most ridiculous, downright comical thing to do! 

However, the longer you rubbed yourself against his broad back, like some cat in heat, the less unaffecting it was. Quite the opposite, your body started responding. 

By the time you rounded him and sat on his lap to press your boobs against Ari’s chest, your nipples were hard as diamonds and your bikini bottom was soaked. Ari’s palms touching you here and there didn’t help matters, nor the way he hummed in pleasure when you dropped to your knees. 

You were sure it was still hilariously insane, more than arousing - if viewed from the sidelines. But as you moved your chest over his thick thighs, feeling those muscles flex, you didn’t care about the aesthetic aspect. All you cared for was that beautiful dick on full display, so close to your mouth, and the increasing need pulsing in your clit. 

“You did so good, Cherie,” Ari caressed your cheek, then slowly slid his hand to the back of your head. 

“Now shade my cock,” he guided you forward.

Your lips parted immediately, tongue flat over your bottom lip to feel that velvety hardness slide against it. 

Ari leaned backwards, stretching on the deckchair with a contented sigh, while you remained kneeling between his legs. Mouth stretched wide over his girth, you took a few calming breaths through your nose to adjust. 

Ari draped his calves over your shoulders, turning you into his personal, live ottoman. Yet you could still feel his muscles tense, betraying that he was keeping most of his weight off your body. 

A new wave of heat flooded you to the very toes. Having Ari in your mouth was always a turn on, but this near slave-like play was adding a spice of a different kind. 

Your brain seemed to switch off. There was only the musky scent of Ari mixed with sunscreen, the soft ripple of pool water behind you and occasional bird chirping somewhere far away. Your breathing was regular, your body turning cotton soft despite being in a straining position. There was warmth from the sun caressing your exposed skin, as well heat wafting off of Ari’s body.

You felt safe. 

And aroused. A state which gained more and more attention as you felt your saliva pool around Ari’s cock in your mouth. 

Some of it dribbled out when you had to swallow around him and his dick twitched in response to the stimulation.

You didn’t have to slide your hand between your thighs to know you were dripping slick. 

Minutes, or maybe hours later, Ari’s hand settled on top of your head and with a gentle yank he pulled you off of him. You couldn’t help the little cough, or the swirl of dizziness. Ari’s gaze was intent on you the whole time, his touch comforting as he rubbed his thumb over your wet lips. 

“Would you like some compensation for your perfect service, little sub?” He asked. 

It was a game, since he would decide on whether to grant or deny you, as well the form of it. No matter how specific in your request you were. Which was a turn on itself, at least for you. To never fully know what your creative Dom would come up with, but trusting he’d keep it within the boundaries of your agreement. 

“Yes, please, Sir.” You leaned into his touch and nipped his thumb. 

Ari withdrew his hand. He snatched one of the folded towels and snapped it open. With one careless move, he threw it beside the pool. He pointed at it and commanded:

“On your hands and knees, Cherie. And turn around.” 

You followed eagerly, even though the towel was a rather thin cushion between your body and the heated concrete. It wouldn’t matter anyway, since in a moment you’d be focused only on sensations provided by your Dom. 

Waiting for Ari to settle behind you, you looked down at the dark reflection of yourself in the pool water. Sparks of sunlight glittered all around it. 

Your loud squeak at the sudden slap to your ass sent tiny ripples on the water surface right below you. 

Swiftly, Ari untied the strings of your bikini bottom and tossed it aside. You spread your legs wider, your back arching at the feeling of Ari’s fingers brushing up the inside of your thigh. He found you already sticky with your arousal, his finger slipping inside so easily. 

“All of that from servicing me,” Ari praised, slowly stretching your pussy in preparation. “I’m a lucky man to have such a sweet, eager sub.” 

“You’ll take everything I give.” 

“Yes, Sir,” your voice turned breathy as he pulled his finger out and a bigger pressure stretched your hole.

Ari slid into you in a slow stroke, letting you feel every impressive inch. When his hips pressed into your ass, a shudder rocked your whole body. 

His hands gripped your asscheeks then brushed up your back and onto your shoulders. He kneaded your muscles for a moment then moved his hands down your arms. When his fingers encircled your wrists, you knew to tighten your core muscles and stay in bent over position while he pulled your arms behind your back. 

Crossing your wrists at your back, Ari held them in one of his hands. He wrapped his other arm around your middle to help you stay up. Then he started moving. Slow, deep thrusts that were as lazy and burning as the summer heat. 

As maddening, too. 

You felt his grip tighten to a near painful hold.

“Take a deep breath.”

You frowned at his confusing command, but did as asked anyway. It was instinctive to follow Ari’s lead, even if part of your brain was fidgeting with suspicious nervousness. 

Suddenly your world was spiraling and the hot caress of the sun was replaced by the blue, cool abyss of the water. 

A bubble of air escaped your mouth as you almost shrieked at being submerged, but you quickly closed your mouth. Your eyes were wide, staring at the endless blue and reflections of sunlight. 

Your body tensed in that natural reaction to fight back against the potential death.

As it did, your cunt clenched so tightly around Ari’s cock that you nearly toppled yourself over the edge. 

Ari pulled you back onto the surface and your mouth opened wide to catch gulps of air and blurt choked “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.” 

Pulling you into a sitting position, Ari held you close, your back to his chest. He tilted your face, so he could take a good look at you. 

“Give me your color,” even as he asked, his eyes were studying every inch of you, searching for any sign of hurt, or extreme reaction.

Your brain needed a longer moment and a few more gulps of breath to connect with your actual state. As you settled back into the scene, you recognized your body’s thrumming need.

“Green,” you croaked. “It- I was shocked. Didn’t expect that. But I’m good. I’m still very much fucking turned on,” you laughed at the discovery. 

You licked the water off your lips as you held Ari’s gaze. 

“I trust you, Sir.” You assured him, letting him feel it by relaxing into his firm hold. And clenching your pussy. 

“Okay then,” Ari gave a slow nod and leaned to kiss you. 

Few heartbeats later you were hanging over the edge of the pool once again, while he fucked into you in a sensual rhythm. 

You were melting into that sensation when Ari ordered you to take another deep breath. Despite knowing what was coming, the rush of being submerged and cut off air held the same strong impact. 

Your pussy clenched and when Ari pulled you out of the pool, it kept pulsing in that rapid pace that announced impending orgasm. 

When it hit you full force, Ari submerged you one more time. 

Your body trashed in his hold, but not a single digit of his lost its secure grip on you. When you regained your breath, your gasps were mixing with raw screams; which only turned worse from the way Ari’s fingers tormented your clit to prolong the already maddening climax. 

Whether it was because of the physiological reaction, or maybe you were so out of it, but you almost didn’t feel Ari coming. Your cunt was kind of numb, still clenched like a vice, so you barely felt his cock throbbing. 

Through the buzz in your head you heard his groans of pleasure and some words, which your brain was unable to unscramble into the praise that it was. 

Both of Ari’s arms weaved around you tightly, holding your shaking body as you rode out aftershocks of your orgasm and the shock of what he did to you. 

Asphyxiation wasn’t your limit and you played with it before a bit, but it was always just Ari’s hand around your throat. He didn’t just up it a notch, he fucking leaped twenty stories up. 

You sat by the pool in the same position for nearly an hour, without you realizing how much time had passed. 

Ari’s softening cock slipped out of you at one point and his cum mixed with yours dripped out slowly. All the while, he held you in his arms. Your breathing and heartbeats settled into a steady rhythm. The sun has dried you off completely. 

“Come on, Cherie,” Ari finally moved, picking you up easily. “Let’s go inside, before one of us suffers a sun stroke.” 

“Mhmm,” you pressed your cheek against his shoulder, “No stroking for at least another hour.” 

Ari huffed a laugh at your exhausted, but still cheeky tone. 

“No kind of stroking at all. Not today.” He declared, carrying you into the rented, private beach house. “It was intense for both of us, but you most of all. We’re going to talk it all over, cuddle and then stuff ourselves with food.” 

“Yes, Sir,” you sighed, but it wasn’t petulant. It was a sound of contentment and vulnerability that didn’t fear to show when in Ari’s presence. 

You knew he would take care of you. 

Your Mark On Me Masterlist

When you need something to help you stay alert study, you found a whole lot more than you were looking for. Tatted and massive. He was what your dreams were made of, but is he a nightmare? He claimed you, and now he intends on keeping you. No matter what the cost.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16

A/N: this story is going to have themes of drug dealing and taking drugs, there will be manipulation, stalking, degradation, and so much more. This is a dark Steve that wants possession of reader. Read ALL warnings before each chapter. You are responsible for the content you consume. Minors DNI

Bloodbath Masterlist

Pairing: Ari Levinson x Fem!Reader

Summary: It was supposed to be a fun vacation with friends, but that's not how it turned out at all.

Warnings: Explicit sexual content. Explicit language. AU. Serial killer!Ari. Mentions of murder. Kidnapping. Dark!Ari. Non con. Unprotected sex. Mentions of skinning animals and animal blood. Primal play/chase kink. Rough sex. Breeding kink if you squint. Dark fic!!! 18+ only! 🥵😈

Status: In progress

🥵 Indicates explicit sexual content. 😈 Indicates dark content.

Bloodbath 🥵😈

Surrender 🥵😈

On the Edge 🥵😈

Drabbles, Headcanons, Imagines, Etc.

Punishment 😈

dirty filthy truckers universe masterlist

breaker, breaker 🎙️ and welcome to a universe of dirty filthy truckers

in this masterlist you'll find all my fics, series, drabbles, thoughts and headcannons about the dirty filthy men who inhabit this trucker universe, and links to individual series masterlists. everything in this universe is tagged #trucker au on my blog.

trucker Ari Levinson series: trucker king (series masterlist)

summary: after you're stranded on the side of the road, you're picked up by a truck driver who expects to be repaid for his kindness.

part 1

part 2 (epilogue)

part 3

truckers Jake Jensen, Andy Barber and Lee Bodecker are introduced in trucker friends

summary: you overhear Ari talking to his friends on the CB radio and he's determined to make sure they know who you belong to.

read here

trucker Jake Jensen series: trucker prince charming (series masterlist to come)

summary: your favorite trucker visits the glory holes at the strip club where you work, and he's determined to finally make you his.

part 1

part 2

trucker Andy Barber series: untitled

introduction thoughts

how Andy likes to be greeted when he gets home thoughts

trucker Walter Marshall series: untitled

introduction thoughts

club owner Ransom Drysdale series: untitled

introduction thoughts

other characters in this universe

trucker Bucky Barnes (these thoughts are going to become Lee's story)

trucker Lee Bodecker

other Henry Cavill characters

𝐖𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒☆.｡.:*

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐕 - 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐲 𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐛

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Steve: ?????

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

Your phone starts pinging again.

Ari: Are you okay?

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

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

Ari: Pick up your phone.

Ari: I’m coming over.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Huh. That was definitely not Steve or Ari…

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

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

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

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

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

She smiles weakly, “Thank you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your blood freezes, “I, I–”

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

“Sharon–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh no. Is everything gonna be okay?”

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wanda nods, “Okay, can I come too?”

He shrugs, “Sure. If you must.”

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

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

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

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

“You’re disgusting, Curtis.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shrug, “Sure.”

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

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

“Ari! What the fuck–”

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

“Let go of me.”

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

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

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

“I don’t want to hear this.”

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

That was exactly where he was. You knew that.

“Please tell me you didn’t go there.”

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

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

“I told you, I broke up with her.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s none of your business.”

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

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

“I told you I was sorry about that.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Did. He. Fuck. You?”

“No.”

“Did he hurt you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ari draws his breath but stays silent.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ari freezes, “His sister?”

“Yes.”

“Did she say anything to you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s not true–”

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

You turn to leave, but Ari grabs your hand.

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

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

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

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

***

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

Ari: Stop avoiding me.

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

Ari: ???????

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He bites his lip, looking every bit as handsome as he always did. Which sucked, because he deserved to have somehow become ugly after how horrible he’d been the last time you’d seen him. But no such luck, he still looked angelic. A bit dark and twisted and scruffy, but angelic nevertheless.

“But I need to explain to you why I acted the way I did.”

A bitter chuckle forces itself out your mouth, fear momentarily forgotten. “I know why you acted the way you did. You wanted sex, and you thought I was so naïve and easy, that I would easily provide it for you. And when I didn’t, you lost it.

“No, that’s not it at all!”

You jump at his tone, but try to keep your expression unfazed. “Well, I don’t care and I’m not interested.”

He clenches his fists, his jaw tensing too. But he relaxes when he notices the way your eyes widen in fear, and how you take a few steps back.

“Please, fuck, just don’t be scared of me.” He holds his hands up defensively again, and this time, you notice one of them is bandaged up. The one he punched the wall with. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“No, you already did that, Steve.” You turn back around and continue walking up to your dorm room, trying so hard to appear nonchalant.

“I’m not the best at controlling my emotions, okay?” He calls out behind you, and the steady patter of his footsteps reveals he’s still following you as you go up the stairs of your building. “My parents, they’ve made me see a bunch of doctors for it, and lately I’ve been able to cope but I’ll admit, something inside me snapped that day, and I took it out on you when I shouldn’t have, and–”

 “DIDN’T YOU HEAR ME? I SAID I’M NOT INTERESTED IN ANYTHING YOU HAVE TO SAY!” You reach your door before angrily whipping around, “Just leave me alone, alright? I don’t care if you’re sorry, it doesn’t take back the fact that you lied and made it seem like you wanted to date me when really all you wanted was sex! Not to mention, all the vile things you said and how scary you got. Now just leave me the fuck alone!”

Quickly, you slip inside your room and slam your door shut, locking it at lightning speed. Steve calls out your name, he knocks, he rattles your doorknob. And all you do is lean against the door, breathing fast and willing yourself not to cry. It was okay, he wouldn’t hurt you. There was a locked door between the two of you.

“(Y/N), please. Just give me another chance,” Steve knocks again, “I know I acted like a complete asshole, okay? I knew it the second I snapped out of it. And I really didn’t mean to say all those things.”

You feel that sudden flash of anger again. Bolting through you like lightning. After everything he’d said to you, after he’d forced himself on you… The best he could come up with was “I was an asshole and I didn’t mean it,”!? No, you couldn’t let him get off that easily. There were things that needed explaining and questions that needed to be answered.

Before you can think better of it, you throw the door back open. Of course, he’s still standing there, and you muster up the toughest, most ice queen-esque expression you can possibly make.

“Fine. We can talk.” You fold your arms over your chest, “But you need to answer me honestly. So don’t try to lie or manipulate me.”

Steve nods immediately, “Okay. Thank you.” He steps forward, as if he’s trying to get into your room. You quickly raise a hand up.

“No. Out here.” You don’t feel comfortable being in a bedroom alone with him. You take a deep breath, “You said that I spread your legs for you the night of the party. What did we do? And don’t lie.”

“We hooked up.” Steve meets your steely gaze evenly, before shaking his hoodie off his head and running a hand through his scruffy hair. It’s gotten long enough that the ends are starting to curl up, kind of like how Ari’s do – not that that was relevant at all right now. “In the cab when I was taking you home. We didn’t have sex, but we hooked up and I got you off.”

You wrack your brain, willing yourself to remember that night. But all you can muster up are fragmented pieces of memory. In the car with him, and you remembered how good he’d smelled. You remember his varsity jacket, and how it had somehow ended up around your shoulders. But… what else? Oh! You remember being in his lap, you remember the car hitting some bumps, and… Oh.

You nod slowly, “So then why did you lie? At the practice game, when you could’ve mentioned what happened?”

Steve exhales, “I did, but you were all confused. I thought you’d remember, but when I realised you didn’t, I just… Well, I don’t know why I didn’t say anything. I just… didn’t.”

For a guy who was so hell bent on explaining things to you, his explanations sure did suck.

You laugh bitterly, “No, you were too busy flaunting me in front of Ari’s face during that practice.” God, how could you have been so stupid!?

“Look, I said I’d answer everything and tell you the whole truth,” He shifts from one foot to the other, scratching his neck as if debating whether to say what he’s about to say, “And yes, I’ll admit that a part of me was using you to get to Ari.”

It feels like a punch to your gut. You’d suspected it, but the fact that he was so readily confirming it made it all the worse. With just a few words, Steve had confirmed all your insecurities. Not only did he not want to date you, not only was he just using you for sex… Oh no, as if that wasn’t enough, he’d also been using you as a pawn in whatever sick, longstanding rivalry he had with Ari.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry…

“Please don’t cry,” Steve steps forward, closing the gap between the two of you. And you’re so distraught by the bomb he’s dropped on you, that you don’t even try to run away from him. Instead, you lean against the door, breathing heavily, trying to keep your tears at bay.

He continues, “This is me being honest, alright? Something Ari never is with you. And yes, I wanted him to be jealous, I wanted to get a rise out of him, so I flaunted you in front of him. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t care about you. I still care about you.”

“How can you possibly say you care about me after everything you’ve just admitted?” You manage to get out as you try to get your breathing back into order.

“Because I do care! I think I’d know what I’m feeling better than you would!” He’s growing visibly frustrated. “Fuck, sorry. I’m so bad at explaining shit.” He smacks his forehead hard several times and yet you don’t even have it in you to flinch.

“Goddamit, look, I’ll start from the beginning.” He takes a few, gulping breaths. “When I first saw you at the party, it had nothing to do with Ari, I didn’t even know that you knew him. I approached you that night because you looked cute and lost, and I liked how feisty and sweet you were–”

“That’s a lie!” You wipe at your eyes roughly, “That’s a fucking lie, Steve. Aren’t you forgetting what you said last time you saw me? You knew what Ari and I did that night, you called me a slut for spreading my legs for him in the middle of a party! And you expected I’d do the same for you.”

“No, that’s not it at all!”

He gulps as if trying to get his breathing even once more, and you realise that’s his way of calming himself down. And you can tell that he’s trying, that he’s trying so hard not to have a meltdown like last time, and you just look at him apprehensively. You know you could back away at any moment, slam the door in his face again and lock it and be done with him. And yet, your feet remain planted in place, as if a part of you just has to hear him out.

“I’m sorry I called you a slut. It’s all a big fucking blank in my head, like I blacked out and said all those things. And I never saw you and Ari fucking at the party or anything like that. I only found that out days later through the grapevine. But I shouldn’t have used it against you, that was wrong of me. I’m sorry I fucked it all up by saying that. You didn’t deserve it.”

You shake your head but he hurriedly continues, “I was always going to ask you out, Ari or no Ari. It’s only when I saw how jealous he got when he saw you with me, that I realised how much he liked you. That he liked you more than he liked his own girlfriend. That’s when I realised I could be with you and get back at him at the same time.”

Get back at him!? For what? Did you even care, at this point?

Anger. Fear. Confusion. Pure fucking discombobulation. That’s what you feel. So much so, that you don’t even know what to say or how to act.

Steve takes your lack of response as his cue, moving forward and reach out to cup the side of your face slowly. And you fucking hate how soft and warm his hand feels, how it’s bigger than your whole head yet feels gentle at the same time. Gentle, when the last time he’d had his hands on you, he’d been holding you down on his bed while he tried to force himself on you.

“But I like you too,” Steve says quietly, almost like a whisper, “I like you more than he ever could. And whenever I like something, whenever I have something good in my life, I always fuck it up. But this time, for once in my life I want to make things right.”

“I kept telling you to stop,” you whisper, squeezing your eyes shut as the memories from that night barge their way back into your head. “Y-You ripped my dress.”

“I’m so sorry, baby girl.”

“You wouldn’t stop, Steve. It’s like you weren’t there, like something came over you and you weren’t there anymore.”

He nods fervently, his fingers stroking your cheek, “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I can’t help that I’m like this, I really fucking wish I could be normal and react normally to things like how other people do. I wish it more than anything in the fucking world.”

It’s like he’s a completely different man from the one you’d first met and thought you knew. The man who’d been so shrouded in mystery, oozing with confidence and charm. His intense aura, the smoothness with how he’d spoken to you in the past. But in this moment, it’s like all of that had melted away. And here he was, stripped back. Rough round the edges with bags under his eyes, an earnest look on his face. And this time when you look into his eyes, for a moment it’s like you really see him; you see someone fighting to be normal, desperate for another chance. Oh, should you…?

And then you blink. And there it is again: Steve, the very same man, saying all those vile things to you. All because you wouldn’t fuck him. Him ripping your dress, him holding you down. Him losing his temper. Him punching the wall. The way he’d held you so hard, not letting you leave. That dark, faraway look in his eyes. How scared you’d been… And here you were, letting him cup your face and speak all tenderly with you!?

What if he got like that again?

It’s like a lash of electricity jolts through you. You push Steve away hard.

“Listen to me carefully, Steve, because I’m not gonna say this again. You’re not who I thought you were. You lied about what happened on the night we met, and you lied about your intentions with me. It doesn’t matter if you say you wanted to date me, because your past actions speak louder than whatever words you’re saying now.” You take a deep breath, “That’s why I want you to leave me alone. Forever. Just walk out right now and never look back. Because I’m done with you. And I really, truly mean it.”

He freezes, an unreadable expression on his face. A myriad of emotions flitter through his eyes. Shock, sadness, anger. Disbelief. Resignation. And then…

“And what about Ari?” He says quietly, “You’re choosing him?”

“No, I–”

Steve spits out a bitter laugh, as if he wasn’t gently cupping your face and promising you everything just five seconds ago.

“You don’t know him, (Y/N). Okay fine, I wasn’t completely honest with you and I guess that means I’ve fucked things up between us forever. But you think Ari hasn’t lied to you?”

“I know he’s lied–”

“YOU DON’T KNOW THE HALF OF IT!” Out of nowhere, he raises his voice. And it cuts you like a sword, reverberating off the walls. You flinch at the booming loudness of his words, the aggressiveness back on his angelic face and now he’s scaring you again. “You don’t know what he’s done, okay!?”

“You’re scaring me.”

You try to say it calmly, but your voice breaks right at the end. Steve blinks rapidly, several times. Breathing hard, he looks down at his fingers which are enclosed tightly around your arm. Just like that day in his room. Like a hot poker, he drops it immediately. And again, it’s like he’s waking up from some sort of a momentary trance. Or rather, a momentary wave of anger.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats in a low tone, “but if you knew the things he’s done, you wouldn’t have picked him–”

“I HAVEN’T PICKED HIM!” It’s your turn to explode. “I didn’t pick him, Steve. This isn’t about picking anyone. I’m done with you, and I’m done with Ari too. I’m picking neither of you. Goodbye.”

You turn around and slam your door shut before he can get another word out.

***

“It’s like, a fundraising gala type thing held at the Hilton. The money raised gets split down the middle, half going towards the basketball team and half towards the cheerleaders,” Sharon explains, twirling a piece of her blonde hair around her finger. “Which, by the way, I think is totally lame, because the basketball team doesn’t even need any more funding. Unlike the cheerleaders.”

She swivels around in your desk chair, her sock clad feet waving around in the air. Outside, the sun sparkles and a gentle breeze flows in through your window. The weather had been great lately, as if the atmosphere knew you’d finished the final chapter of the Ari and Steve saga and closed the book on both of them. As if nature itself was willing you to go outside and begin your new chapter, one where you were sexy and single and thriving.

So then why could you still not find it in you to step outside of your room on most days?

“I’ve been on the planning and decorating committee for the Athletic Society’s Annual Gala for the past two years,” Sharon continues, “it’s like, one of the biggest events of the year. All these important sports execs and school alumni show up, not to mention half the college. Wanda, I’m guessing you’re going with Curtis, right?”

“Huh?” Wanda glances up from her phone for a split second, looking as if she has not the slightest clue what Sharon is on about. Burying her nose back into her screen, her acrylics start tapping ferociously. And it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to guess who she’s texting. In fact, you were surprised when she’d showed up alongside Sharon outside your dorm room this morning. It was very hard to pin down Wanda lately, since all her time was devoted to her boyfriend.

Sharon raises an eyebrow before shifting her attention back to you, “Well anyways, I think this would be a great opportunity for you to get out of your funk, Y/N. We could go together! As friends, obviously.” She adds hastily.

You manage to muster up a smile, “I don’t know…”

“Oh, come on! It’s been weeks since you ended things with Steve!” Sharon says, and you no longer shiver when his name is mentioned. It’s like the last confrontation you had with him cleared up the fog in your head a little bit. It still depressed you to the core, to know that you’d been used, but at least you didn’t flinch at his name anymore. That was something.

He’d also stopped texting you at all anymore. Which you should be happy about, and yet you still found yourself looking at your chat with him. God, what was wrong with you!? He’d finally left you alone just like how you’d wanted him to, and yet a part of you still felt like it was yearning for him.

“And I know how much you love dressing up and doing your makeup. Hey, we could even go shopping together for dresses!” The blonde claps her hands, clearly unaware of your current inner turmoil as she works herself up into a frenzy.

“We could make it into a proper girl’s night,” She sits on the other end of your bed with a bounce, “Hey, Wanda, why don’t you get ready with us too? You could always just meet Curtis there.”

Wanda scoffs, “Uh, no. I think I’ll go with my boyfriend, thank you very much.”

Sharon rolls her eyes, “Ugh. Fuck boyfriends. I was gonna go with Ari, but that’s obviously not happening anymore. Plus, a girl’s night sounds a lot more fun.”

Your poor, gullible, traitorous heart jolts. “Ari’s gonna be there?”

Unlike Steve, Ari was still texting you and trying to somehow see you in person. You’d successfully avoided him since the supply closet meeting. And yet, you couldn’t stop thinking about him either. God, were you just incapable of not thinking about the two fuckboys who had fucked your entire life up!?

“Yep, but it won’t bother me, I promise.” Sharon says determinedly, “The banquet hall is huge, so I’ll easily just avoid him. He’s probably gonna be super busy, anyways. Word has it that they’re giving him the Basketball MVP award this year.”

“Oh,” you breathe, before quickly clearing your throat, “I don’t know, Sharon. It sounds like fun, but–”

“Curtis says that he’s going to the gala with the basketball team, and that no one else is bringing dates,” Wanda interrupts you as she reads the latest text from her boyfriend. Finally, she looks up, “I guess I’ll go with you girls, then.”

“Great!” Sharon cheers, “You’re in too, right, Y/N?”

You smile, not really knowing what to say. Being in the same banquet hall as Ari and Sharon? At the same time? That was just trouble waiting to happen.

But is this how you were going to spend the rest of the college year? Letting your feelings towards Ari dictate where you went and didn’t go? You think about the old you, the one before Ari or Steve or anyone. The one who loved to dress up and go out to have fun. Before Wanda had got a boyfriend, the two of you used to go out all the time. Another girls’ night wouldn’t harm anyone, would it?

Sharon senses your hesitation, “Come on,” she urges, “It’s not like Steve’s even gonna be there. It’s strictly a St. Andrews’ event.”

You bite your lip. You doubted you’d ever see Steve again. Clearly, since he no longer texted you either. And a part of you is bittersweet as you think about what could have been. Absentmindedly, your eyes divert to your desk chair, where his blue and white varsity jacket still lies. You hadn’t even thought to throw it away. You bet it still smells like him…

Oh God, you had to get over him. Get over both of them and get the fuck out of this funk you were in. So what if Ari would be there too? This was your chance to prove to yourself that his presence didn’t make a difference in how you lived your life.

You take a deep breath, “Okay. I’ll go.”

***

 PART II

“Open up, sleepyhead. I’m not leaving and I’ll camp outside your door if you don’t open it.”

You’d woken up the next day to a loud knocking on your door. And you’d tried to ignore him. You really had. It was so much easier to just remain in bed, rotting and feeling sorry for yourself despite the promise you’d made yourself to get over the two men who’d betrayed your trust, and get out of the funk you were in. But the knocking was incessant, going from soft-knuckled raps to full on banging. You were sure he’d wake up your entire building, and then you’d have to pay a noise fine.

That’s why I’m opening the door, you think to yourself. Not because I actually want to see him.

And there’s Ari, standing outside your door with a picnic basket under his arm. And he looks kind of funny, his big athletic self holding such a dainty little thing. He also looks extremely pleased with himself, and you don’t even have the energy within you to argue with him or tell him to leave. You and him had gone non-contact ever since the confrontation inside the supply closet. Or rather, you’d gone non-contact whilst Ari tried to find ways to talk to you. He couldn’t corner you on campus anymore because you were usually with Sharon, and you’d changed your locks so he couldn’t exactly barge into your dorm room like how he used to.

“Go away, Ari.”

“Hey, nice to see you too. I come bearing food, because I know you haven’t eaten. And don’t ask me how I know, I just know.” Ari says breezily, and you frown at how chipper he’s acting. As if the last time you’d seen him you hadn’t stormed away and told him the two of you could never see each other again.

He follows you inside, and you quickly swipe Steve’s varsity jacket under your desk so he doesn’t see it. You don’t know why you still haven’t thrown it out but you really can’t be bothered to get into another fight with Ari over it.

Earlier in the day, Sharon had texted you asking if you’d wanted to hang out. You’d declined, finding the comfortability of your bed and the prospect of watching old reruns of trashy reality television much more interesting. What you hadn’t expected was Ari Levinson of all people showing up at your door, however. Although, you’re not too surprised. He was still texting you nonstop, wanting to show you how he’d “changed.”

Ari plops the picnic basket on top of your desk, and you sigh, sitting down on your desk chair while he grabs a stool. You already know how this is going to go. He’d tell you to open it, you’d say no, he’d say yes, you’d say no again. Then he’d open it and make you see the contents anyways. You decide to stop wasting either of your time and look inside the basket yourself.

“Cheese sandwiches?”

“Uh huh. And don’t knock it till you try one, sweetheart. My mom makes these for me.” Ari winks before flashing you a smile. And doesn’t contain even a hint of his usual cockiness or smugness – it’s just a regular little smile that makes his eyes light up all pretty too. And you’re not used to it at all, it looks almost displaced on his face. Was he being genuine? You can’t even tell anymore. But probably not.

You pick one up and eye it carefully, and your heart can’t help but throb at the thought of him standing in his kitchen making it for you. Big, bad basketball captain fuckboy Ari Levinson carefully cutting the sandwich into little triangles and packing it up for you in this little picnic basket. How had Ari even gotten hold of a picnic basket to begin with?

“So, it’s a family recipe?” You take a cautious bite.

“Yep. Passed down from generation to generation. Don’t ask me how you make it because it’s a Levinson family secret,” he grabs a sandwich of his own and wolfs it down in two bites, “I mean, you could always become a Levinson yourself and have my kid, then I’d tell you.”

Your cheeks heat up. Oh, a few weeks ago he didn’t even want a relationship with you and now he was joking about marriage and kids?! Would you ever understand him?

“It must be some recipe,” you remark, trying your best to keep your tone even and unamused. Instead of looking at him, you observe the sandwich. It tastes good – he’s used some type of expensive artisan bread and fancy cheese. A step above your average grilled cheese, and it tastes even better on an empty stomach since he was right, you hadn’t eaten anything since last night.

“It is. Have another one,” he thrusts another sandwich in your hand.

Your frown, “Ari, stop, I don’t want–”

“You haven’t eaten all day, (Y/N).” His tone drops, growing more serious.

“Well, stop acting like you care!” You shoot back.

But Ari looks unperturbed as he helps himself to a third sandwich (he was going through them remarkably fast), “I do care.”

“You don’t.”

“I do.”

“You don’t.”

“Yes, I fucking do,” he says, the slight sharpness in his voice taking you aback. “What other girl have I cooked for and lugged a fucking picnic basket halfway across campus for?”

You settle back begrudgingly, taking another bite out of the sandwich, “I’d hardly call this cooking.”

You know you sound mean and bitter, but it’s like you can’t help it. Like there’s a deep black hole filled with anger still swirling within you. Anger at both Ari and Steve and you don’t know how to sort through it or make it go away.

“Oh yeah? Well, you’ve never cooked for me so I’d say you’re hardly an expert on the subject.” Ari shoots back, grabbing another sandwich from the picnic basket as well as a can of soda. “You want a coke?”

“No.”

You start tearing your sandwich into tiny pieces just so you have something else to focus on and you don’t have to look at his face. Because you’re afraid this newfound earnesty of his, afraid it would reel you back in hook, line and sinker. Afraid he was just putting on an act to convince you he’d “changed.” That’s also why you’re being cold – you can’t let your walls down with him again. Not this time. Not when Sharon was literally your friend now.

“So, I was thinking we could catch a movie after we eat,” Ari continues talking all casually as if the majority of the conversation so far hasn’t been extremely one-sided. “Have you seen the new Godzilla vs Kong? Probably not, you’re not into stuff like that.” He pauses only to consume his sandwich in two huge bites, before grabbing another one. His voracious appetite almost makes you smile. Almost. The only other times you’d seen him look this starved was when he was going down on you…

No, stop! Don’t think about that!

“Sure, we could watch some girly movie instead, but you’d have to pick it because I have no idea about shit like that, obviously–”

“I told you; we can’t go anywhere that Sharon or someone might see us. Besides, the last thing I want to do is go out with you. In fact, you can show yourself out now because I’m gonna go back to bed–”

Ari slams his coke can down on your desk with a loud clunk. You jump, before narrowing your eyes at him. First, he practically broke into your room, then forced you to eat his dumb sandwiches. Now he was making obnoxious noises? Oh, you were just about done with him–

“That’s it.” he grunts, standing up to his full height. You gape up at him, suddenly nervous. You barely have the chance to yelp before he grabs your arm, yanking you up with him.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?!”

He lifts you up off the ground with ease, throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. You start pounding on his back immediately, but you only hear him snort in return.

“Put me down right now, Ari! I’m not in the mood for this! Put me down!”

“I gave you a pass to be a little sassy, but you need to remember who’s in charge.” He starts walking across the room. And you may as well have been an insect on his back with how unbothered he was by you wiggling and trying to fight out of his grip. Oh god, what was he going to do?!

Panic bubbles up in your chest, your heartrate increasing tenfold in about five seconds flat. You struggle harder against him, before realising there’s no use. He was way too strong. You shut your eyes and brace yourself; any moment now he’d throw you on the bed and have his way with you just like he always did, just like how Steve had tried to do, and you’d be powerless to stop him because you couldn’t stop anyone, and they all just wanted one thing, and–

“Please don’t,” you whisper, on the verge of tears, “Please, I can’t have sex. I don’t want to have sex, please don’t make me. Please, please don’t make me.”

Ari freezes, and you wish you could see his expression but in your current predicament, dangling over his shoulder, you cannot. But then he starts walking again, and he goes straight past your bed. That’s when you notice the picnic basket in his other hand.

“I’m not trying to sleep with you.” He mutters.

Oh. But then what was he doing?

You get your answer less than a moment later, when he swings your door open and carries you outside. That’s when you start punching his back again.

“Ari, take me back inside! I’m serious, okay? Someone’s gonna see–”

“Then I suggest you stop making so much noise that’s gonna attract attention towards us.” He shoots back, giving you a reprimanding pat on your thigh. Not your ass, you note, but your thigh. Immediately, you shut up. But you fix a scowl on your face, vowing you’d keep it there permanently until he could see it.

A minute later, he dumps you unceremoniously into the passenger seat of his car. By the time you scramble into sitting position, he’s already in the driver’s seat. The doors, predictably, are locked.

“So, it wasn’t enough that you barged into my dorm room uninvited. You felt the need to kidnap me, too?” You snap, irritated yet at the same time slightly amused. But you can’t let him know that. No, you had to maintain your ice queen persona.

“Please,” Ari snorts, starting up the car. “You were talking about going back to bed. If anything, I’m doing you a favour. It’s a nice day, sweetheart, let the sun shine on your face for a few hours.”

You deepen your scowl, crossing your arms over your chest, “I’m not going outside.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m literally not, Ari. Because you didn’t even think to let me put my shoes on.” You wiggle your bare toes, suddenly feeling the strong urge to smile at the ridiculousness of your whole predicament. But you pout to cover it up, suppressing whatever amusement you’re feeling because you don’t want him to see.

“Don’t fucking pout, it makes me want to kiss you.” Ari murmurs, keeping his eyes on the road but you can see him licking his lips.

“Don’t.”

“Did I say I was going to? I said I want to. There’s a difference.”

Again, you want to smile. You quickly turn your head away, looking out the window instead, watching the trees and buildings roll by as he drives you out of campus. “Whatever, just stay away from me.”

“Don’t be a brat.” There’s a warning edge to his tone, one that you’ve come to know very well. But surprisingly, you don’t feel unsafe. For once, you feel like maybe he won’t just stop the car in the middle of nowhere and try to fuck you.

You’ve been in Ari’s car before, and you’re no stranger to how it always goes when you’re in here. Back in the early days of you two hooking up, he’d pick you up in the dead of the night. And you were so innocent, you’d think of these midnight drives as romantic, magical even. He’d have a cigarette in his mouth, his long hair either slicked back or flowing in the cool night air. A wild look in his eyes as he’d pull you inside and kiss you headily while still trying to focus on the road. And he’d have one hand on your thigh, squeezing it before pushing his fingers between your legs.

In his hazy, smoke-filled car, you’d always find yourself underneath him. Splayed out in his backseat while he licked his lips and loomed above you. His dark silhouette so handsome, and you remember thinking how he was such a bad boy, and you were such a good girl, and how hot it was. He’d tell you how much he loved the tight little skirts you always wore, and yet he’d always rip them in half and then laugh and kiss you when you pouted. Tell you how he’d been waiting all day to fuck you, how he just couldn’t wait now that he had you, that he’d been thinking about you and him, that he just had to have you now.

You remember feeling like such a little girl compared to him. Ari was a senior after all, and you only a freshman. Once, you’d tried to impress him by wearing red lipstick. That night, he’d pulled you over the console and made you suck his dick. Till your red lip prints were all over his fat cock, and he’d told you how you were such a good girl, and he loved how cute you were, and that he knew you were trying to impress him.

 All those nights in his car, and you remember each time you’d ask him if he’d broken up with Sharon, and each time he’d tell you that he was “working on it.” That he didn’t see a future with her, that you were so much more special. “I can’t stop thinking about you and I,” he’d say, blue eyes dreamy and you thought he sounded so earnest. And eagerly you’d say the same, excited that someone like him could ever be that interested in someone like you.

And then he’d push you into the backseat, or he’d stay in the driver’s seat and pull you into his lap. Or sometimes, if the place you were parked at was secluded enough, he would take you on the hood of his car. Fuck you in every way imaginable, use your body for his pleasure whilst also giving you the most intense pleasure you’d ever felt. And sometimes, the moonlight would reflect off his eyes and make him look like something so special, and you’d feel so special, and you’d feel like you were in a movie. You still remember it now.

You doubt Ari does, though. You doubt those nights were ever special to him.

“Where are we?” You ask fifteen minutes later when he pulls up somewhere. You peer out the window and see trees – a bunch of them. He’s parked in a clearing, only a single dirt road leading up to it and the rest of the area covered in a thick forest of trees. The sun sparkles through the leaves, and you can hear birds chirping louder than you ever do back in the city. “Are we in the woods?”

“Yep.” He’s out of the car in an instant, grabbing the picnic backet which he’d thrown haphazardly into the backseat before making his way to your door. “C’mon, let’s go.”

“If you think I’m going to hike out into the woods barefoot–”

Ari scoffs, “Don’t worry your pedicured little feet off, princess,” he turns around, “Hop on.”

You eye him carefully, as if you’re assessing a threat. Going into the woods with Ari of all people may not be the best of gameplans for someone who was actively trying to avoid men in general. When Steve had forced himself on you, it had been in his room and luckily Kira had been nearby. The secluded woods, however, were a completely different story.

And yet, it’s like you know deep down that Ari won’t do anything. Not this time. Then again, you’ve been wrong about him before. Were you being naïve all over again?

Maybe you were, but you hop on to his back anyways. His muscular arms catch you easily as you wind your legs around his waist. Your arms lock around his neck and you nestle close to him instinctively. So close that you can smell his grape shampoo, and you admire how pretty his hair is, how it curls up slightly at the base of his neck like he’s a movie star or something.

You hate how you’re still so attracted to him.

He gives you a piggyback ride all the way into the woods, and it’s kind of neat being up so high. Ari was so tall, and with you on his back you felt like you were six foot six inches too. So this is what he sees, you think to yourself, finally indulging in the nature that surrounds the two of you. The way the oak trees soar up as high as skyscrapers, how the smaller trees sway with the breeze. The rustling of the leaves, and you think you hear a distant trickling of water, too.

“It’s nice here, isn’t it?” Ari breaks the comfortable silence, continuing to trek forward into the woods.

You’re about to heartily agree, before you remember the cold persona you’re meant to be adopting with him. So, in the dullest, most bored and nonchalant voice you can muster up, you say: “It’s whatever, I guess.”

He snorts.

You frown, “Are you laughing at me?”

“Nope.” He sounds amused.

“Yes, you are!”

“Well, it’s cute how you’re trying so hard to be something you’re clearly not.”

You’re thankful that he can’t see the way your jaw drops open, “And what exactly do you think I’m trying to be?”

He shrugs, inadvertently bouncing you up and down on his back.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I like this sassy side of you. Especially since I know you’re still the same naïve little baby on the inside.” He looks back at you, and you catch a glimpse of his glittering eyes, framed by those impossibly long eyelashes.

“I am not!”

Ari chuckles, “You can act as tough as you want, it amuses me how cute you look when you do it.”

You scowl, despite the fact that his constant flirting was starting to thaw you from the inside out, making your cheeks burn and your mind feel more muddled than ever. What was the truth and what was a manipulation? This was him just trying to win you over so he could fuck you, right?? Or maybe, maybe he genuinely liked you… Maybe–

You forcibly make yourself scowl again, “Fuck you.”

“Say that again and I’ll drop you,” He threatens.

“Don’t you dare!” You squeal, winding your arms tighter around his neck, almost choking him.

He snickers as if he’s cracked the funniest joke in the world, before continuing to walk. The two of you settle into another spell of comfortable silence. You take in all the bushes full of wild berries, the pretty flowers that are luckily in full bloom, scenting the air with a sweet fragrance that tickles your nostrils pleasantly. Another gentle breeze has you relaxing more against Ari, and you’re almost about to nuzzle your face against his strong shoulder before you catch yourself and freeze.

“I discovered this place last year,” Ari announces five minutes later, gently setting you down on a patch of vibrant grass. To your delight, only a few feet away from you is a stream! The water flows and sparkles in the afternoon sunlight, rushing over rocks and plants and making a pleasant trickling sound that has an oddly calming effect on you. And the grass feels nice against your toes, so much so that you don’t even mind your bare feet on the ground.

You don’t say anything, just watching as Ari settles down beside you with the picnic basket. You stretch your limbs out, secretly happy that he brought you out here, that you didn’t spend another day rotting in bed.

“I found this place last year,” Ari repeats, “A few of us were camping nearby and I hiked out further away to see if I could get cell reception. That’s when I found this place.” He leans back, lying down completely with his arms crossed behind his head, “It’s nice and private here, huh?”

A thought enters your head, jolting you down to the core, “Private? So, this where you brought Sharon? Or your other hookups?”

“No. You’re the first person I’ve ever brought here.”

The straightforwardness of his answer jars you, and you find you have no quip or jab to respond with. Instead, hesitantly, you lie down too. A few inches away from him, but he makes no move to grab you or pull you closer. A large part of you is relieved, but you want to strangle the tiny part of you that’s disappointed that he’s not touched you.

“It’s nice.” You say finally.

“Yeah, I come here sometimes. To admire the nature or whatever.”

That makes you pause, and you look at him incredulously. He’s lying there with his eyes closed, yet he’s got a completely straight face.

“You? Admiring nature?”

Ari scoffs, “Is that so hard to believe?”

“Yes, actually.” You can’t imagine Ari of all people, who only cared about basketball, partying and sex, to be one with nature. Unless it was weed. “What aspect fascinated you the most?”

There’s a long beat of silence.

“I don’t know, the plants and shit?”

You can’t help but burst out laughing. And it feels good, to just let go and laugh for a bit. To just forget about how shitty you feel and just laugh. Even if it’s just for a moment, to just forget about how awful Ari’s been to you in the past, how awful Steve turned out to be too, just forget it all and allow yourself to laugh. And you can’t even remember the last time you laughed.

“Haha, very funny,” Ari rolls his eyes, but you can see the slight smile playing on his lips before he clears his throat. “Alright fine, I couldn’t give a fuck about nature. But I do like this place, it’s good for when I need to think.” He hesitates, “When I was dating Sharon, I felt like I never had the space to really think, and so I’d come here.”

You cease your laughter immediately at the mention of her name. Now that you were friends with Sharon, it made it a lot harder to talk about her with Ari. Because now, she was actually a person to you rather than some distant illusion that you tried not to think about. And it wasn’t her fault that Ari felt he couldn’t think with her around. She wasn’t the villain here, Ari was.

You clear your throat, heart suddenly beating very fast. “C-Could I ask you a question? And please don’t lie, okay? Just be honest with me, Ari. For once.”

He nods, not saying anything else.

“Were there others?” You ask hushedly, your tone wavering slightly as you voice the thought you’ve never wanted to speak into existence, never even dared to wonder about. “Was I just one of many girls that you were cheating on her with?”

Ari sits up, rubbing his temple. You watch him carefully, watch how his eyes scrunch shut before opening. He blinks several times, his lips pressed into a thin line before they part and he exhales slowly. Then, he turns your way, looking you dead in the eye.

“No. There were other girls before you, but once I slept with you, it was only you from then on out.”

“Yeah, me and Sharon.” You say bitterly, although the guilt is eating you up inside. You feel guilty for even feeling hurt or bitter, because he was never yours to begin with. Sharon was the girlfriend – she had every right to feel hurt and bitter. You? You were just the other woman. All you should be feeling was guilt and shame. Especially since here you were, out alone with him again when you’d vowed yourself you wouldn’t do this.

You sit back up too, and he makes a move to grab your hand but you shuffle away quickly. You hug your knees, resting your chin against them as you huddle into yourself. You can feel his gaze penetrating holes into you, but you only focus on the steady flow of water in the stream.

“Even with Sharon, it didn’t feel right sleeping with her. Not after I’d been with you.”

 “Then why didn’t you break up with her?” Your voice breaks at the last second, and you turn away from him so he can’t see the lone tear that trails down one side of your face. Just a second ago you’d been laughing and now here you were, crying over the same question that had plagued your mind for months. The question that had been beaten to death, and yet you knew you’d never get a straight up, honest response.

Ari sighs, and you hear him moving closer to you. A second later, he takes hold of your chin, gently turning your face back to him.

“Hey, listen to me. I was an asshole, okay?” He sucks in a breath, closing his eye again for a handful of seconds. You want to look away but you can’t help but watch him, watch as he breathes, watch as he finally opens his mouth again. “Before you came along, I was this guy… This hotshot guy who could do whatever and everyone would just worship the ground I walked on. And, well, I guess I thrived on that. I liked how easily I could use women. I knew I had a girlfriend but I liked how I could get any girl to sleep with me–”

“I don’t want to hear this,” you mumble, pushing away from him.

“No, wait, I’m just trying to explain myself.” He runs a hand through his mane impatiently, “Look, I’ll admit it. All those times I strung you along, it was to feed my own ego. For a while, it felt like I was on top of the world, like I had two girls and neither of them knew any better, and–”

“Stop telling me this,” your voice hitches, more tears rolling down your cheeks.

“I was being a fucking asshole, that’s what I’m trying to say!” Ari grabs your hand as if to stop you from running away, a note of frustration in his tone. Or was it desperation? “I’ve never been good with voicing my feelings and all of that shit, but that’s what I’m trying to do right now. When I saw you with Steve, it’s like he was taking my girl, taking away everything I’ve always wanted. The night of the party, and then again at the game, when I saw you with him… It got me so fucking heated, and I’d never felt like that before. It felt like I was wasting my time in a relationship I clearly didn’t want to be in, and he was moving in on the girl I did want to be with.”

You look up at him, breathing heavily yet not daring to say a word.

“I’m sorry for lying to you, I’m sorry for using you. I’m sorry that it took you being with someone else for me to finally wake up and realise you’re the only one I’ve wanted this whole time.” His hand slips up to cup your cheek, and it’s like you’re frozen. You don’t know if you want to stop him or if you want to lean into his touch. You don’t know if this moment is even real. If this stream is real or if the woods are real or if Ari is real or if he really is saying everything you’ve ever wanted him to say.

“Why couldn’t you have said all this before?” You say shakily, afraid to look him in the eyes in case you see anything other than sincerity, in case you see even an inkling, even the tiniest spark of a hint that he was manipulating you.

“I was immature.” He continues to wipe your tears, before making you look up at him. “I was just so wrapped up in being the guy who could have any girl I wanted, but I promise you I’ve grown out of that now.”

“Really?” Your voice comes out so small, filled with hope mixed with a bit of hesitance.

Ari nods, “You said before that people don’t change overnight. But if you let me show you, I’ll prove to you that I have. And that I’m serious about us.”

Ice queen persona be damned. You feel more tears well up in your eyes. “Y-You are?”

“Yes. I wasn’t going to mention this but…” He runs a hand through his hair, brushing back a wayward lock that flops over his forehead, before taking hold of your hand, “There was an NBA scout at the last game. He said they want to sign me, that a lot of teams are eyeing me as a draft pick.”

Oh. The NBA. That put everything into perspective for you. He wasn’t like you, with three and a half years of college ahead of you. No, he was almost done… And then he’d be gone. You’re happy for him – the NBA was a huge deal after all. But you also feel a little sick, like time’s going by too quickly, like maybe you’re not ready to let go yet after all.

Your mind also briefly flits to Steve. Had he been approached by an NBA scout too? You think back to when you’d last seen him, outside your dorm room with the dark circles under his eyes, the withdrawn look on his face. He didn’t look like someone who’d just been scouted by the NBA. Oh God, were you feeling bad for him now?!

“Congratulations.” You say slowly, not really knowing how to feel. Suddenly, you’re hyper aware of Ari holding your hand, and now it’s like you don’t want him to let go.

“The reason I’m telling you this is because I have it all planned out. Our future.” Ari continues, looking more serious than you’ve ever seen him look. “I know you’ll still be in school, but I really think we could make it work. And by the time you graduate, I’ll have made it. We could settle down together, and I’d make it all up to you. That’s how serious I am about us.”

You simply just stare at him in complete awe. Who was this man? It was like an alien from outer space had taken over Ari’s body. Because the Ari Levinson you knew was a manipulator and a cheater. A man who stayed away from commitment with a ten-foot pole, a man who had just now professed to you that he enjoyed two-timing his girlfriend because it made him feel like he was on top of the world.

And yet… And yet you’re only just a girl, and you can’t help but picture the story his words are painting for you. Just indulge yourself a little bit, just a tiny little bit… You know you’re teetering on thin ice, and you know how dangerous it is to allow yourself hope when it comes to Ari. Hadn’t he squandered your hope time and time again for all those months he never made you his girlfriend?

But you can’t help but imagine, can’t help but think maybe this time he means what he says…

“We could buy a house in the countryside?” You whisper.

Ari cracks a smile, “Sure. And you could pop out a few Levinson babies too, make cheese sandwiches for all of them.”

“I’d have to establish myself as a model or a fashion designer before that.” You say, feeling the corners of your lips twitch upwards as you dare yourself to dream.

He looks amused, “Fashion designer, yes. Model, no. Too many pervy photographers.”

“I’ll be a model if I want to be one!”

“No.”

“Yes!”

“No way.”

“Yes way!”

“Fine. I’ll be in the NBA and you can be a model. Maybe. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” He chucks you under the chin playfully, like how he used to do all the time. And you giggle, feeling like you’re floating. Like the two of you are encased in a bubble and you’re floating and time’s standing still and just for this one moment you could pretend everything was alright and your future with him was as secure as he was making it out to be.

“And you’d never lie to me again?”

He nods, “I wouldn’t. Never again.” And then he takes a deep breath, “There’s this fundraising gala thing coming up, and I’m supposed to win an award. I’d love it if you could come with me as my date.” He says with a note of seriousness in his tone, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear.

But rather than let you answer, he instead cups your face with both hands, pressing his forehead against yours. Immediately, the smile on your face freezes, and now you can feel every pore, every muscle, every cell in your body screaming. Screaming for what? For him to kiss you? Oh God…

“Let me kiss you,” he breathes out of nowhere, sounding like he’s parched. “Please, baby. I know I’ve fucked up but I want to kiss you so bad right now.”

“Oh, Ari…”

“Please.”

You never thought you’d live to see the day where Ari Levinson was begging you for anything. It was such a stark contrast from how your relationship had begun, almost as if the tables had turned now. Were tables capable of turning that quickly? Or was this all part of an act? Oh, you’re sick of asking yourself that question! What’s real and true is that earnesty in his eyes, and you want to kiss him so bad too. So fucking bad.

He moves closer, and so do you. Inch by inch, almost like first-time lovers. His lips purse slightly, looking so warm and soft and inviting. Closer, so close that they brush against yours for a second, and you can hear him breathing and you know he can hear you too. You wonder if he can hear your heart too, hear how it beats louder for him than it does for anyone else.

“We shouldn’t…” you murmur, but your words are laced with doubt. Just one kiss, your mind cajoles you, just one kiss won’t hurt.

There’s a gentle breeze around the two of you, swirling softly. Rustling through his hair, feeling cool against your face. Encasing the two of you in a private whirlpool where it’s just you two, and the sound of the stream, and the beat of your hearts.

“I know, but I want to so bad,” Ari’s hands are cupping your face so tenderly, his thumbs stroking your cheekbones as he slowly angles your face upwards. “Please, let me kiss you. Just once.”

It’s like the breeze jostles you forward, as if the universe wants you to kiss him. Your willpower’s hanging on by just a thread, your mind swarming with memories of every time you and him had kissed in the past. How magical it had felt for you, how it felt like you could never find someone who’d kiss you like that again. Oh, fuck your willpower!

He surges forward one last time, but his lips have barely touched yours before you pull away, turning your head to the side. Breathing hard, the anticipation still burning through your body in waves. Heart beating like crazy, and yet you swallow and shake your head.

“Ari, we can’t,” you force yourself to say firmly.

Ari sits back, looking slightly dazed and yet running a hand through his hair in frustration. For a second, you wonder if he’ll be mad, call you a tease for leading him on. Call you a slut, tell you how the least you could do was kiss him in return for all he’d done for you today. But he just sighs thoughtfully.

“Not until I come clean to Sharon about everything,” You explain, “And I know about the gala, Sharon told me. I-I’m actually going with her and Wanda, like a girls’ night.”

He raises an eyebrow before nodding slowly, “Well, as long as I get to see you there when I go up on stage to accept the award.”

“Yeah, but we can’t talk or interact or anything. Sharon’s my friend now, and I owe her the truth before anything more can happen between us.”

Ari gazes at you carefully, but there’s a hopeful glint in his eye. “So, it’s just the Sharon issue then. You forgive me for everything else?”

You hesitate. Well, did you? Did you forgive him for leading you on? Lying to you multiple times? Manipulating you? Leaving you drunk and high and alone in a party bathroom? God, why did he have to remind you of the asshole he’d been all this time, up until very recently? It pops the bubble your mind has created right now, the one that you and him were encased in, in this little clearing in the woods.

“I don’t know if I forgive you.” You say honestly, hoping he doesn’t question you further.

To your surprise, he doesn’t. Instead, he lies back down on the grass, stretching his long limbs out to make himself comfortable. You watch him as he lazily grabs another cheese sandwich from the picnic basket, wolfing it down before offering you one. Stifling a smile, you shake your head.

Ari shrugs, “Well fine, more for me.”

And it’s later, after the two of you sit there by the stream in comfortable silence for a little while longer. After he’s piggy-backed you back to his car, and after he’s driven you back home. It’s when he’s pulling up to your building, that he puts his hand on your knee to make you look at him.

“I know you said before that nobody changes overnight, but that doesn’t mean I won’t stop trying until you see that I have.” He says firmly, his hand feeling so warm on your leg, causing heatwaves to radiate up and down your whole being. “And I know you, baby. I know you like me too. I know you want this to work out between us too. And it will. Once you tell Sharon, and we’re free to be together, everything’s gonna work out. You’ll see.”

Oh, he was so cocky! And yet, it’s a different type of cockiness than what you’ve usually come to associate with him. It’s more of an honest sincerity, this confidence that one day you’ll be his. And oh, you want to believe him! You really do! You want to believe in a perfect world where Ari proves himself to be more than just a manipulative fuckboy, a world where Sharon understands and forgives you for everything.

A world where you forget all about Steve Rogers, and never find yourself thinking about him… Thinking about what could have been.

You say nothing, not until he’s carried you back into your dorm room. Not until he’s about to leave. That’s when you speak.

“Ari?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

He looks surprised, as if he hadn’t really been expecting you to say anything at all after his whole speech. The truth was, you’d been silent for a while now, ever since the two of you had almost kissed in the woods. But there’s a newfound serenity inside you, a feeling that wasn’t there before.

“For what?” He asks, a shy little smile on his face. One you’ve never seen on him before.

For bringing me outside. For taking me to your special place. For not making a big deal out of it when I didn’t want to kiss you. For carrying me. For not losing your patience with me. For making me laugh. For making me smile again.

“For the cheese sandwiches.”

***

The night of the gala is cold for springtime, the blustering winds revving up and roaring to life. Looking outside your window, you can see the smaller trees swaying roughly against the unforgiving nature of what looks to be the beginnings of a windstorm. It gives you a peculiar foreboding feeling, listening to the ominous whistling of the winds, so loud as if they’re warning you. You back away from your window, and yet something inside you doesn’t close it and lock it as you know you should.

You float back over to your vanity table, feeling pretty in your new dress that you and Sharon had gone shopping for, just how she’d promised. You haven’t felt this pretty in a long time, and as you gaze at your reflection, you feel another pang of foreboding. Quickly, you busy yourself with powdering your nose and fixing your hair, wondering if maybe you should have agreed to get ready with Wanda and Sharon after all. You’d told them you wanted some alone time before the busyness of the gala. Some time to yourself where you could draw a bubble bath, and then shave and pluck and preen and pamper yourself till you felt somewhat ready for the big night out.

And it had made you feel better, your solo pamper session. Sure, your thoughts had spun into overdrive as they always did. Replaying all your recent interactions with Ari, with Steve, even with Sharon. The reflection made you chuckle at one point, because when had your life become so like a tumultuous soap opera? With secrets and lies and betrayal and deceit coming from all corners?

A loud gust of wind knocks you out of your reverie, and again you feel it. The feeling that something big is swirling up in the atmosphere, like the howling wind itself is trying to warn you that soon, it would all come to head.

“Fuck you! Try an’ scratch me again and see what happens!”

Your head snaps up at the sound of the familiar male voice. And it’s the proximity that makes your heart skip a beat. The voice sounded close, like it was coming from mere feet away from you. Fearfully, you look back at your window, only to see that same angelic face you know so well seemingly levitating outside.

“Steve?” You whisper, blinking several times. He doesn’t seem to hear you, and you wonder whether you’re imagining things. Slowly, you venture forward, back to your window which lies open. And that’s where you find him, standing on the ledge outside of your bedroom window which was two storeys high.

Steve whacks a wayward branch that looks to be tangled in his jacket. And his movements are oddly sluggish as he flips the bird at the tree adjacent to your building which the brand is attached to. “Damn stupid fuckin’ tree, tryna pick a fight with me,” he mutters before his eyes fall on you, and they brighten up instantly, “Hey, baby girl, fancy seeing you here!”

And then he bursts into a fit of giggles, while you just stare at him in awe, your mind still not having come to terms with the fact that Steve had somehow climbed all the way up to your window. In the dark. With the wind blustering insanely around him. Warily, you peek downwards, heart jumping all the way up to your throat when you see how he’s just casually balancing on the extremely thin ledge, the street below looking very minuscule with how high up your floor was.

“How did you get up here?” You breathe, still half in shock that he’s here that you forget how explosively your last encounter with him had gone down.

“Who, me?”

“Yes, of course you. Who else!?”

He shrugs, “Scaled that tree over there, then it decided to scratch me so I fought it off an’ jumped onto the ledge. Now here I am!” He ends his explanation with a flourish that causes him to stumble backwards. It almost happens in slow motion; you don’t even have a chance to react to what you’re seeing. But he catches his balance again just in time, grinning up at you mischievously.

“Whoops!” He laughs heartily, a type of laugh you’ve never really heard from him before. He shuffles along the ledge till he finds a spot he’s more comfortable with, leaning in through your window and shooting you a smile, “almost fell to my death there, didn’t I?”

“Steve, you need to get back down. You’ll hurt yourself.” You bite your lip, wondering whether you should let him in through your window just so he’d be safe. But the thought of being alone with him within the four walls of a bedroom again gives you the creeps, and so you refrain.

“Maybe I want to hurt myself,” he answers, staring at you almost quizzically. His lips are full, his cheeks flushed. His hair looks longer and even more unkempt than last time, that stubble still on his face, his eyes dark and unfocused. It was weird, because you’d always known Steve to be meticulously well-groomed and almost preppy with his clean-cut good looks. He was still handsome as ever now, but he looks darker, almost tortured, with dark bags under his eyes and even his cheeks looked kind of hollow.

“I’m serious, climb back down.”

“I just wanted to see you again,” he breathes softly, and his entire expression morphs to tender as he reaches out to touch your face. “And I knew you wouldn’t let me in the normal way.”

You can’t help but flinch away, and he sighs, bringing his hand back down to grip at your windowsill, “You’re so pretty.”

That’s when you smell it. Vodka. Suddenly, his erratic behaviour makes a lot more sense. His pupils are dark and blown out, and he’s swaying dangerously on the spot.

“You’re drunk, Steve.”

“Nah,” he bats his hand dismissively, but with such force that he stumbles forward. And again, your heart lurches in your throat, thinking he’s going to fall. But lithely, he grabs on to something or the other, regains his balance, and flashes you another smile, “okay, maybe a little bit. But being drunk helps.”

You frown, not knowing whether to feel scared or concerned, “What do you mean?”

He shrugs, “Helps to forget all the shitty stuff.”

A wave of anger passes through you, “Shitty stuff? You mean like all the awful things you said to me when you tried to force yourself on me?” Hell, maybe you should be the one drinking if it meant you could forget how he’d called you an easy slut.

Steve bows his head, still swaying slightly, “I’m so sorry, baby.”

“Don’t call me baby.”

“Okay. I’m sorry, sweetie.”

“Stop it, Steve. I’m serious.”

He sighs again, “So am I. I hate how I lose control like that. It’s like I zone out, and something takes over me and I’m there on fucking standby. Watching this one version of myself lash out and say all these shitty things an’ I can’t do anything to stop it.  And when I zone back in, it’s too late an’ I can’t take anything back.”

He explains with surprising eloquence, despite being so drunk.  And God, why did he have to look all rugged and heartbroken right now? Dismissing him would be so much easier if he was ugly.

There’s an emotion swelling up inside you as you look at him now, but you try to suppress it. Instead, remembering your ice queen persona, you cross your arms over your chest and force yourself to narrow your eyes. “Is that your explanation? That you zoned out? Because honestly, the lack of accountability–”

“I don’t think you’re a slut,” Steve interrupts you, “you’re sweet, and beautiful, and innocent. That’s what I thought the night I first saw you. And sure, I guess I used you because I was trying to get back at him–”

You flinch. There it was again. The reminder that Steve had indeed used you. And you’d fallen for it… Hook, line and sinker.

“–but at least I’m honest enough to admit it. Doesn’t that count for something?”

He finishes, blinking up at you with large eyes framed with those impossibly thick lashes, as if waiting for you to respond. When you don’t, he sighs, swaying again as another strong gust of wind attacks from the outside.

“I like you a lot, okay? I know I haven’t known you as long as he has, but it doesn’t matter. I think what we have is special.”  He swallows, his eyes squinting as he searches across the plains of your face, either trying to gauge your thoughts or trying to come up with the right words to say next. “And I know I fucked it up because that’s what I always do. So fuck it, I don’t care anymore.”

He shoves his hand inside his jacket, conjuring up a glass bottle of Gray Goose vodka out of what seems to be thin air. Your jaw drops open as you watch him take a hearty swig from it – and it was already half empty!

“Okay, that was a lie. I do still care.” He wipes his mouth roughly, stumbling about and still very much on the window ledge. “There’s just so much going on inside my head,” he says, and he demonstrates by smacking the side of his head with his open palm, “School, basketball, taking care of Kira – all of it just keeps building up. And I try my best, okay?” He loses his footing and sways some more, “but it’s never enough, and all my thoughts get louder and louder, like voices fucking screaming inside my head, and then I just explode. And I get so fucking angry, and it’s always directed towards the wrong people – whoops!”

He slips. You cry out in terror and impulsively grab hold of his arm. But he regains his balance and barks out a laugh, as if he’s tripped whilst taking a simple stroll in the park and not currently balancing on top of a very high and very dangerous ledge.

“It wouldn’t matter if I fell, you know?” He muses, taking another long swig of the vodka. And he doesn’t even flinch as the bitter liquid goes down his throat, as if the taste no longer has any effect on him. “I mean, my life’s a fucking mess already. Basketball’s completely fucked, anyways…”

“What do you mean?” You ask, your heart pitter-pattering in fear. His overtly reckless behaviour is scaring you, and you realise you’re holding your breath as you watch him callously standing there.

Steve shrugs, “Got kicked off the team today.”

Oh. You feel a surge of pity. And you know you shouldn’t. Not after how he treated you. And yet you can’t help it. Tonight, Ari was going to win an award for being the best basketball player of the season, and in the summer, he was going to the NBA. You can’t help but feel for Steve’s starkly different fortune.

He takes another gulp of vodka, “Coach said I couldn’t control my emotions and I’d keep costing the team if I continued playing.” He gazes off into the distance, and you try to gauge his expression but it’s quite unreadable. He laughs bitterly and smiles again, but it looks more like a grimace, “Fuck him. He’s right, but fuck him anyways.”

“Steve, this is dangerous. You could fall–”

“Fuck basketball,” he continues swaying around like he hasn’t even heard you, “it’s not like I was ever gonna make it to the NBA, anger issues or not. No, I have to become a surgeon. Like my parents.” His words slur and ring with sarcasm, and he barks out another laugh, “If I don’t fuck that up too…”

“I’m sorry that happened, but–”

He scoffs, “Can’t even fucking imagine being a doctor. My patients would probably be scared of me, just like how you are.”

“Please, just get down–”

“And Kira…” His expression morphs from bitter to sad in less than a second, and he clutches your hand suddenly. The one that you hadn’t realised was still holding on to his arm. And you don’t pull away, almost like you don’t want to. Either that, or you want to keep hold of him so he doesn’t fall.

Steve coughs, “God, I wish I took care of her better. I feel so fucking guilty, living on campus while she lives by herself in our house. Our parents are never home, they don’t even know what she went through… How she doesn’t even speak to anyone but me, how she doesn’t go out anymore...”

Another long swig. It’s a wonder the bottle isn’t empty yet. You want to interject, beg him once more to climb back down to safety, or at least hand you the vodka so he doesn’t drink anymore. But he’s not done speaking, and cuts you off when you try to get a word in edgewise.

“My parents, the award-winning heart surgeons!” He raises the vodka bottle up in the air in a mock toast, “They’re here, there, everywhere around the fucking world!” Another swig, more swaying. “Everywhere except for at fucking home. So then I have to handle everything, don’t I?”

“Steve–”

“They don’t even know how bad she’s gotten, how their own daughter’s shut herself off from everyone.” Steve shakes his head in both resignation and frustration, “and I try so fucking hard, okay? Try to help her with her anxiety, help her make new friends. God, all I do is worry about her. And school. And basketball. While they jet across the world doing their fancy surgeries and not giving a damn about her or me. Fuck them!”

Whoa. Wow. Okay. Now, you look at Steve with new eyes – you had no idea there was so much going on in his life, in his head. It still didn’t excuse the way he’d spoken to you, the way he’d forced himself on you – and yet… Yet you can’t help but feel another pang of sorrow and pity for him.

His eyes are dark and stormy as he looks out into the early evening sky, before looking back to you. His gaze falls down to your hand holding on to his arm, and he smiles softly.

“You were the only thing in my life that was good.”

You shake your head, your barriers going back up, and you try to pull your hand away, “No. Stop lying, Steve, just don’t even try it, don’t even–”

“No, it’s true!” He insists, holding on tightly to your hand as if he’s on a sinking ship and you’re his only lifeline. “That one week before I fucked it all up, that one week when we were just texting. I’d be on my phone, smiling like a fucking fool. You can ask Kira! She knew about you because I couldn’t stop talking to her about you.”

You bite your lip, and despite everything, you find yourself wanting to believe him so bad. Suddenly, a strong gust of wind has Steve clutching your hand even harder as he teeters on the ledge, bringing his face closer to yours, his eyes hooded and lashes fanning over those impossibly sharp cheekbones.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says.

“Don’t, Steve…”

He sighs, breaking eye contact as he plays with the glass bottle in his hand. But his other hand seems to move off its own accord, his pointer finger trailing up your bare arm. And it’s so intimate, that simple touch, leaving a trail of fire and goosebumps in its wake. Your skin feels like it’s buzzing, burning almost, as he traces his finger up your shoulder blade, as if he’s testing to see how much you’d let him touch you.

“I miss you.”

You feel your resolve crumbling…

“No, you don’t. All we did was text for one week. We never even went on a date, so you can’t possibly miss what you never had.”

“And yet I still miss you.”

He leans in, his eyes fluttering shut. His lips look so pink, so warm, so hesitantly inviting. Slightly pursed, as if he doesn’t know if it’s going to happen but he’s going to try anyways. Another sharp gust of wind blows past, almost pushing him into you as if even the universe itself is cajoling you to just give in to him. You can smell the alcohol on his pores, and yet you can also feel his warmth, his musky cologne, the way his breath hitches as if he can’t believe this kiss is actually happening…

Except you turn your head at the last second, and he sighs.

“Should’ve seen that coming,” he says to the evening sky, “lost my place on the team, lost my girl, I wonder what I’ll lose next? You wanna take any guesses? Hey, maybe I’ll lose my balance! That would be funny, wouldn’t it?”

You watch as he looks down, all the way down to the ground with a peculiar gleam in his eye. The type of gleam that reflects that he’s a man with nothing to lose. And it’s a long way down. What the hell was he thinking?!

“He really fucked her up,” Steve murmurs softly to himself, a whisper that almost gets lost in the great gusts of wind that swirl around the two of you. “And I tried to do something about it, tried to get back at him, but I fucked it up. I always fuck up. Maybe it’s best if I just–”

“Steve, stop it! Stop being so reckless!”

You tug hard at his arm, and at the same time a heavy wind blows. Steve stumbles again, but mercifully, he falls forward instead of back. Through your window and right on top of you. You both land on the floor with a thud, and despite how drunk he is, he manages to bring his hands out in front of him, preventing you from getting crushed by his huge frame.

“Whoops. Sorry, baby.”

He flashes you a cocky smile, as if he hadn’t just been teetering on your window ledge in the middle of a sad, drunken rant. The bottle of vodka is still snugly clutched between his fingers, somehow having also survived the fall onto your hard bedroom floor.

You open your mouth to tell him to get off of you, but the words die inside your throat. Instead, you look up at him, at his face so close to yours. So close that his nose is an inch away from brushing against your own. And his eyes, navy and blown out and yet still so pretty, blink down at you imploringly. The last time, when you’d been in his bedroom, they’d looked so stormy and far away. And here, now, he was drunk and yet he looked present. And you realise that you don’t feel unsafe at all.

“I really, really want to kiss you right now,” Steve says, slurring and stumbling over his words.

“Don’t.” You warn him, although you notice your own lack of conviction. In that moment, had he actually done it you don’t think you’d have objected too much. But you don’t want to give in to him, not after how scary he’d been last time. Despite everything, you still haven’t forgotten.

He nods slowly, “I know, fuck, I know…”

Shakily, he gets off of you, swaying slightly as he gets on his feet, and then he yanks you up too. Before you can stop him, he takes another swig of vodka before his eyes once again settle on you.

You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows hard, biting his lip as his dark eyes drink you in. In your form-fitting emerald dress that wraps around your body like a second skin of smooth satin. The ruching which accentuates your curves even more, the delicate lace detailing, the smooth dip of your cleavage. The gleam of your bare legs that peak through the slit of the dress. The demure heels that makes them look longer than ever. And yet you can’t help but shift shyly under his intense gaze.

“You’re all dressed up,” Steve says softly, reaching out to touch you before thinking better of it, curling his outstretched hand into a fist and pushing it down to his side, “You look… incredible.”

“Th-Thank you.”

“You going somewhere?”

“Uh… yes.”

He nods before his brow furrows, “Is he taking you out?”

“What–?”

“Levinson. Is he taking you out? Are you two together now?” His tone hardens, and you feel your heart jump up to your throat. Oh, please let him not get all angry again like how he did last time!

“No.” You say firmly, “There’s this gala, this fundraiser thing at the Hilton Hotel. That’s where I’m going. Me and Sharon and Wanda.”

“No Levinson?”

You shake your head, “N-No, Steve.” It was only white lie, because you weren’t going with Ari and you probably wouldn’t speak to him tonight. It was a girl’s night out, if anything. Plus, you’re scared that Steve might flip out if he knew that Ari would be there too.

“You promise?” He looks at you meaningfully, and he’s got that same intense look again. The look you’ve grown to associate with him, that eery, almost glassy stare. “Promise me, Y/N. Promise me that you aren’t going out with Ari.”

You don’t owe him anything, certainly not any promises. And yet, yet you can’t help but nod, “I promise, Steve. In fact, Sharon and Wanda are on their way to pick me up.”

Steve nods approvingly, looking somewhere beyond you. His eyes look sad once again, and he takes another long, lingering sip of vodka. “Good girl. You stay away from him, okay? All he does is hurt people.” He shakes his head, his mouth pulling downwards in a grimace, “He hurt her so bad.”

You frown, “Hurt who? Sharon?”

The blond doesn’t answer, but he continues talking to himself. “What did she ever do to him? He didn’t give a damn about her, and now look at her…”

You feel an uneasy wave of guilt, “You mean Sharon, don’t you? I know…”

Steve frowns, opening his mouth to answer you before he grows distracted by something beyond your shoulder. A slow smile spreads across his face, and he stumbles over to your desk in the corner of the room.

“My jacket!” He grabs the blue and white varsity jacket he’d given you the night of the party, “You still have it. You kept it.”

“You can take it back!” You say quickly, a bit too quickly judging by how his face falls. Quickly, he drops the jacket as if it’s made of hot coals, a bitter look enveloping his features.

“You should throw it away. Or burn it.” He says simply, throwing his head back and taking a hearty sip of his vodka, “thought you would’ve looked cute wearing it to one of my games but I since I won’t be playing anymore, there’s no point anymore, is there?”

What follows is an uncomfortable silence. And oh, why was he making you feel bad for him now?! After everything he’d said and done? But then he’d apologised too… Were you being too hard on him? Now you feel more confused than ever!

You sigh, “Steve… Look, I just don’t know how to act around you. One second, you’re so intense, and you’re calling me a slut, and you’re being all scary. And then the next it’s like your entire personality changes. And I just… I don’t know what to believe, okay?”

“Why can’t you just believe that I’m sorry for what happened? I’m sorry for all of it.”

You shift uncomfortably, looking down at your heel-clad feet. You wrack your brain, trying to choose your next words carefully, “I… do believe that you’re sorry.”

He stands there expectantly, as if waiting for you to say something more, to say that you forgive him, perhaps? But you don’t think you do. Do you? A few more empty seconds pass before he clears his throat.

“They put me on some kind of medication. Added it to the ones I already take.” He volunteers, breaking the silence. He avoids your gaze now, instead focusing on his bottle of vodka, tossing it from one hand to the other and tapping at the glass. “For my anger and mood swings, or whatever.”

You nod, “That’s good, right? You saw a doctor?”

He snorts, “No. My parents just heard about me flipping out and contacted the family physician Got him to prescribe me all these different pills. But this,” he raises the vodka up in the air and waves it around, “This helps more than any medication ever could. It stops all the screaming in my head. And luckily, Mom and Dad left the house full of booze, so I’m all good to go.”

You nod slowly, furrowing your brow, “Steve, maybe you shouldn’t be drinking while you’re on medication–”

Your phone vibrates loudly from its place on your bed, the sound shaking you from the inside out. Even Steve blinks several times, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding as you make your way over to your phone. It’s like the bubble of intensity the two of you have been encased in has popped, and now you’re back in the real world. It was crazy, because being inside the bubble felt intoxicating, like everything was moving in slow motion, like you were in some sort of fairytale and the troubled prince had just climbed in through your window.

Your screen glows with a new text.

Sharon: We’re on our way! Wanda’s already so drunk lol we’ll be there in ten minutes!

Oh no. You’d rather your friends didn’t run into a drunken Steve Rogers when they came to pick you up. Especially not when you were supposed to have sworn off men anyways.

“Steve, you–”

“–I need to go,” he completes sombrely, picking at a piece of loose thread on the sleeve of his expensive-looking sweater, “I know, I know.” His eyes narrow, “That wasn’t Ari, was it? Who texted you just now?”

“No.” 

He relaxes, “Good. Okay, I guess I’ll leave then.”

You chew your bottom lip anxiously, “H-How will you get back? You didn’t drive here yourself, did you?”

He waves your question off as if it isn’t important, backing away towards your door, “You don’t worry about me, sweetheart.”

“Steve Rogers, don’t you dare drive back home in the state you’re in!”

He just stares at you, that same bittersweet look on his face. Finally, he nods, “I’ll be fine. I came here with Bucky.”

You nod, “Okay, then. As long as you don’t drive…”

Steve shoots you a sad smile, one that doesn’t really reach his eyes. His eyes that are still glued on just you, only you. He crosses his hand over his chest, “I promise I won’t. Scout’s honour… Although I was never a scout, so who knows if you can take my word. Ha ha.”

He finally makes it to your door, almost as if he’d been walking in slow motion, wading through quicksand. Why? Because he didn’t want to leave? And you feel a lump in your throat, one that won’t go no matter how many times you swallow. There’s an odd yearning inside you, like an itch on your hand. No, an itch in your heart. Your fingers twitch as if wanting to reach out to touch him. Did you not want him to leave, either?

You press your lips together, rooting yourself in place as you watch him go. At the last second, he turns back around again.

“I am sorry, okay? Sorry about everything.”

Once more, all you do is nod. The expectancy in his eyes fades away and he sighs, his hand resting on the doorknob as he goes to shut the door. 

A second passes. But it feels like the longest second you’ve ever lived. Like your heart seems to beat about a thousand times in that one second, like a drum reaching crescendo. Feeling like you’ve reached that part in the movie, that page in the book where the climax happens and then everyone can breathe again. Outside, the winds seem to be charging up again, readying themselves for an almighty, blustering blow. And you can feel the booming whistle of the winds ringing all around you, when you suddenly drop your phone on your bed and rush over to the door before you can think better of it.

“Steve, wait!”

You press your lips to his in a searing kiss, catching him completely off-guard. He stumbles back slightly, either by how strongly you’ve jumped on him or because of his own inebriation. Either way, he recovers quickly, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you against him as he reciprocates your kiss.

And you don’t know why you’re kissing him, but it’s like your body’s gone past the point of rationale. Like your lips and your limbs have a mind of their own and your brain is no longer part of the conversation. And Steve’s lips feel so soft, and this time you feel like it’s you in control. He’s too drunk to take charge, you suspect, as his lips move languidly against yours.

Your hands cup his face, his bristly skin pricking the pads of your fingers, and yet it doesn’t bother you. Not when he’s kissing so softly, so cautiously like he’s afraid he could hurt you again. It’s you who presses your tongue against his, stroking it, biting and nipping at his lips. He smirks at your overexcitement, finally injecting more passion into the kiss by tipping your head back slightly and pressing his lips harder against yours.

He tastes like vodka, but you don’t mind. He also tastes kind of sweet, kind of irresistible. And oh, you know this makes no sense! And you know you shouldn’t be kissing him! What about Ari? What about your own dignity? What about swearing off all men? What about–?

You pull away as abruptly as you’d kissed him, and both of you stand there breathless for a handful of seconds. Your lips still tingle pleasantly, and before he can say anything, you gently pry the bottle of vodka from his hand.

“I’ll keep this, okay?” You say softly, holding it behind your back. There’s still quite a bit left in it, and Steve looks like he’s one sip away from disaster. Or at least a very bad headache tomorrow morning. You pray it’s only the latter.

But he’s got a sparkle in his eye now, and he doesn’t spare the vodka a second glance, “It all went away for a second.”

“What went away?”

“All the fucking screaming in my head. All that pressure I was telling you about. Kissing you made it all go away. Your lips are magic, baby girl. Better than the vodka.”

“Oh.” You don’t know what else to say, but you feel a lurching pull in your heart nonetheless.

“Yeah, like I’m numb to it all now. Comfortably numb. And it’s such a fucking relief.” He closes his eyes for a second, as if he’s savouring the feeling. You’re so intently looking at him that you don’t even notice when he grabs your hand, and his eyes flutter open, “So you forgive me?”

You hesitate, “Steve, I…I don’t know.”

His serene smile freezes on his face, and he drops your hand like it’s a hot poker. You feel it again in your heart, that lurching fee ling that you can’t place. You watch as his face falls, almost in slow motion. And it feels like you’re sitting front row in the cinema, watching his expression turn sad, his eyes clouding over once more like he was depending everything on your forgiveness.

“Okay. Goodbye.”

He stumbles out of your room, out into the stairwell where he trips before grabbing on to the banister.

“Steve, please be careful,” you say again, your tone laced with worry.

He glances back at you, that ever-charming smile back on his face. Back from when you’d seen it that first night when you’d met him. Almost like he’s put on a mask. He gives you a sluggish thumbs-up, “I’ll be fine. I’m comfortably numb, remember? I just hope it lasts…”

What the hell did that mean? Should you go after him? You hear your phone vibrate loudly, and you glance back at your bed to see it glowing with several new texts. But then you look back at the stairwell to find it empty. He was gone. Gone like a gust of wind. Gone like he was never there.

But he was. You can still feel him on your lips.

As if in a dream, you float back into your room and pick up your phone. Two new texts.

Sharon: We’re five minutes away! Traffic’s crazy lol.

Ari: Hey. I just want to say that I’m happy you’re coming tonight. Even if we don’t get to speak, just know you’ll be on my mind all night. Fuck. That was cheesy. Anyways. See you there :).

You sink down on your bed, already feeling exhausted and mentally drained. Despite the fact that the night was nowhere near over yet. In fact, it hadn’t even begun.

***

“Where’s Curtis?” Wanda wonders aloud, scanning the sprawling banquet hall and immediately grabbing a flute of champagne from an elegantly dressed waiter holding a tray full of them.

The banquet hall where the gala is being held at the Hilton is reasonably full, and you recognise a bunch of familiar faces from campus – both students and professors. Everyone’s dressed smartly – the men in tuxedos and the women in evening gowns and dresses. Sharon and the decorating committee have done a great job; each table swathed in ivory cloth, with red rose centrepieces and golden gilded chairs. Matching golden lights against an otherwise dark room gives an almost ethereal ambiance.

“He’s probably over on table 2 with the rest of the basketball team,” Sharon nods to a table at the front of the room near the stage. “I did the seating arrangements and the place-cards.”

Predictably, table 2 is the rowdiest table in the entire banquet hall. Clearly, the basketball team didn’t give two fucks about what was considered proper black-tie etiquette. You can see Ransom Drysdale and Andy Barber having some kind of a drinking competition, chugging down wine glass after wine glass as if they were cans of beer. Lloyd is acting like their referee, half on top of the table as he tries eggs them on. Colin is laughing his head off as he looks to be live-streaming this whole performance on his phone. And then there’s Ari.

And oh, he looks so breathtaking! Your heart physically skips a beat when you see him. His brown hair slicked back sexily, but the ends curling around his stiff white collar. His tuxedo looks well-tailored and expensive – Armani probably – and a white bow tie that makes him look more handsome than ever. He’s sat in the middle of his table, looking very much like the leader of his group. A smirk on his face as he watches his teammates horse around, but then his eyes meet yours, and the cocky smirk turns into the most adorably lovesick smile that does not look like it belongs on his face – only because you’ve never really seen him smile like that ever before.

“Oh gosh, there’s Ari,” Sharon says, coming up closer to your side and making you snap your eyes away from her ex-boyfriend immediately. The blonde takes a few deeps breaths to calm herself, “And he’s looking straight at me! Well, who cares? I’m not gonna let him affect my night. In fact, I’m gonna go over to him to prove how unbothered I am–”

Before you know what’s happening, she starts making a beeline straight over to table 2 – with you in tow! Wanda follows, her eyes still searching the room for Curtis as she downs her champagne quickly.

“Hello, Ari,” Sharon says stiffly, hanging on to your arm for dear life. You hope you don’t look as mortified as you feel, watching as Ari looks up at the two of you, his charming little smile still on his face.

“Hi.” He answers her, giving her a quick nod before his eyes shift to you, and you see them sparkle as he looks you up and down, taking in your emerald dress, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards again in another sweet little smile. Oh God, damn him for being so obvious!

“Well, I just came here to congratulate you on your award,” Sharon says, a determinedly happy-yet-nonchalant look plastered on her face. “So, well, congratulations.”

Ari nods again, physically tearing his eyes away from you, “Thanks.”

“Where’s Curtis, you guys?” Wanda interrupts the awkward exchange, looking expectantly at the basketball team. You watch as she grabs another champagne from another cocktail waiter who happens to pass by, downing it as quickly as she had the first.

Ransom snickers, “He’s somewhere around here, sweetheart. But I wouldn’t bother him if I was you, he’s kinda busy.”

Wanda doesn’t even wait for him to finish his sentence before she’s off, weaving across the banquet hall at lightning speed. You watch her, mildly concerned as she grabs yet another glass of champagne, her previous one still in her other hand. She’d been antsy the whole ride over, because apparently Curtis wasn’t texting her back, and hadn’t since last night.

“She’s already a mess,” Sharon murmurs to you under her breath before smiling brightly at Ari, “Well, see you around, Ari.”

He nods at her for the third time, before his eyes rest on you once more. There’s a hint of yearning within them, and his lips twitch as if he wants to say something. Oh, when did it get so easy to read his expressions? Did you know him that well now? He gives you a soft, private smile – one you know is meant just for you. One that seems to convey a thousand words in just a single twitch of a muscle. You almost return it, before remembering who you’re with.

“Thank God, he didn’t bring her,” Sharon mutters to you as the two of you walk away from jock table.

“Huh?”

“The little skank he cheated on me with. I would’ve died if he brought her along as his date.”

You gulp, eyeing one of the champagne flutes yourself. After tonight, you absolutely had to come clean to Sharon. There was no other choice, you’d kept this secret long enough. And if it meant she’d no longer be your friend, then so be it. You deserved that. But no more excuses, you had to tell her tonight after this event was over.

And the event itself is fine. You hang out with Sharon while she makes small talk with a bunch of different people. You don’t talk much, simply staying quiet and observing. People’s outfits, their makeup, their shoes, everything. It’s nice to be out and about again, after spending what felt like an eternity rotting in your dorm room and feeling sorry for yourself. You even find yourself catching Ari’s eye every now and again, and each and every time he’d give you his sweet little private smile that made you want to die. You’d look away, of course, or busy yourself with talking to Sharon or someone else, just so you wouldn’t smile back. Even though you wanted to. You really, really wanted to.

You do get a handful of texts from him though.

Ari: You look beautiful.

Ari: I can’t take my eyes off you.

Ari: Seriously, I don’t think you realise how beautiful you look right now.

You don’t reply, but you know he can see you looking down at your phone and smiling like crazy.

About a half hour into the gala, the hosts beckon everyone to sit at their assigned tables because the award ceremony is about to begin. That’s when you notice that Wanda’s been missing for a while now. You scan the room while a retired basketball coach hobbles his way onto the stage, beginning a very long-winded speech on how he’d single-handedly led the St. Andrews’ team to victory back in 1993. Where the hell was Wanda? You realise you’ve been so wrapped up in the event and playing secret smiling games with Ari from across the room to notice that you hadn’t seen her since the three of you had arrived here.

Luckily, you spot her stumbling towards the bathrooms that are in a corridor off the main banquet hall. Stumbling being the key word, and you quietly curse yourself for allowing her to drink so much. God, Ari was just so distracting! Even when you weren’t even speaking to him, just his presence alone was making you forget about everyone else!

You tell Sharon you’re going to get Wanda before quietly sneaking away, hoping to discreetly bring her back before she wanders off somewhere else. You just hope

“Wanda, hey! Wait up!” You catch up to her, “Let’s go back to the banquet hall.”

Wanda rolls her eyes, “Leave me alone, Y/N. I’m looking for my boyfriend.”

Oh. She still hadn’t found him yet?

“C’mon, our table’s this way,” you try again, grabbing her hand, about to lead her away. Then you notice her eyes light up as she looks beyond your shoulder.

“Baby, there you are!” Wanda slurs brightly, snatching her hand out of your grip and making a beeline down the hall. You whip around to see Curtis closing the bathroom door behind him, his other hand wiping his mouth. His tie loose around his neck and top collar button undone. And you also see a tiny brunette in a silver dress slip out of the bathroom behind him, the dim lights of the hallway swallowing her up as she slinks away into the darkness, Wanda not even noticing her.

“Wanda.” Curtis blinks, looking entirely unperturbed. “You’re here.”

She hits him playfully on the shoulder, “Of course, I’m here. I came with the girls, remember? And I wanted to support you!”

He scratches the back of his head, “Yeah. Cool. Look, I’m gonna go back to the boys–”

“Great, let’s go!” Wanda links her arm with his, making his jaw tense and eyebrow raise. And you watch this whole ordeal with a sinking feeling in your stomach.

“Babe, remember how I told you this event was a no date kind of thing?” Curtis carefully peels himself away from her, making her pout. You cringe when she doesn’t get the message, grabbing his bicep again, her manicured nails like talons holding on with all her might.

“But I missed you, baby,” Wanda smiles up at him drunkenly. “I’ve been looking for you all night!”

Curtis visibly cringes, “Come on, babe, don’t be like this.” Again, he dislodges his arm from her grip, pushing her off of him not-so-gently. “I’m here with the team tonight, but I promise I’ll come by your room later. Maybe. Like way after midnight probably.”

You can’t hide your disgust, openly frowning and shaking your head at him. God, why did all men suck so much?

“Come on, Wanda,” You grab her hand once more, “You don’t need him to enjoy your night. Let’s go.”

“Um, fuck off, Y/N, I’m talking to my boyfriend right now.” Wanda pushes you off her before sidling up to Curtis again.

You gape at her, feeling a pang of hurt. She’s just drunk, she didn’t mean to say that…

Curtis sighs, rolling his eyes, “Listen to your friend, Wanda. I gotta go.”

“I’ll come with you!”

For a third time, she grabs on to his arm tightly. That’s when Curtis huffs, clearly annoyed.

“Look, I don’t know what you think is going on between us, but stop acting like we’re in some serious relationship or whatever.” He says, a frown bordering on disgust on his face as he shakes her hand off of him.

Wanda gapes, and even your mouth drops open. How dare he? How fucking rude!

“Baby, you don’t mean that–”

“I mean sure, we have fun together but please don’t get the wrong idea, Wanda. You can’t just chase me down at these public events like you own me or something. That’s not how this works. In fact, all it does is make you look kind of desperate.” He continues, getting his phone out and nonchalantly scrolling through it as if this whole painful conversation isn’t even worth his time.

How the hell was he speaking to his own girlfriend like that?

“I-I’m sorry for being desperate, Curtis,” Wanda says earnestly, her eyes wild and pupils dilated, “Please, don’t do this! Don’t break up with me like this!”

He rolls his eyes, “Do what? I’m not doing anything! I can’t break up with someone who was never my girlfriend to begin with. Sure, we had fun for a few weeks but it’s not like we were ever exclusive, let alone dating. You were too clingy for my liking anyways.”

“Curtis, that’s enough!” You admonish, your heart breaking for poor Wanda. Curtis was a joke.  You can’t believe he’s standing here denying he was ever in a relationship with her. Hell, you’d been a third wheel to them enough times in the past month to know the two of them had definitely been a thing. How the hell was he just so casually gaslighting her now, as if none of that ever happened? God, you would never understand men!

Curtis glances at you, a devilish twinkle in his eye before he turns to Wanda again, “Hell, I’m pretty sure I tried to sleep with your friend Y/N before I settled for you that night at the party.”

“Oh, you’re such an asshole!” You explode, pulling Wanda away, “Stay away from her, you piece of shit! C’mon, Wanda.”

What you haven’t noticed is Wanda standing deathly still. She snatches her hand away from you, a look of absolute loathing, shock and betrayal on her face. And a part of you wants to see her give an asshole like Curtis a piece of her mind. But then she turns to face you, her eyes drunk and accusatory.

“Y-You…” she points at you, swaying in her heels from all the alcohol in her system, “You slept with my boyfriend?”

“What? No, he tried to sleep with me, but I wasn’t interested. It really wasn’t a big deal–” You try to hold her hand to calm her down, hoping she doesn’t make a big scene.

“Later, ladies.” Curtis grins, squeezing past the two of you and strutting over to table 2 with the rest of his team. You watch him for a moment, slack-jawed at his nonchalance and how badly he’d just hurt your friend.

“I can’t believe you!” Wanda hisses, pulling away from you yet again. “I can’t believe you slept with him!”

You shake your head desperately, “No, no, no! I didn’t sleep with him! That’s not what he said!” You take a deep breath, stopping yourself from raising your own voice out of desperation to get her to understand. Instead, you speak slowly: “Wanda, I did not sleep with Curtis. Yes, he did try it on with me ages ago but nothing happened.”

“You’re the biggest bitch in the world, Y/N! I can’t believe you slept with him!” Wanda sputters, tears welling in her drunken eyes. It’s like her brain has only selectively heard what he’d said and is running with it, and she’s unable to compute what you’re saying to her now. “I knew you weren’t above sleeping with other people’s boyfriends but I never thought you’d do it to me!”

“No, please, just listen! You’re not understanding–”

“Let go of me!” She bats your hands off her when you try to grab her again, backing away and stumbling out into the main banquet hall. “Don’t even speak to me again, Y/N! How dare you sleep with Curtis?! When you knew how much me and him meant to each other!”

Helplessly, you watch her as she marches across the banquet hall, and you trail behind her with a lump in your throat. You’d have to wait until she was sober to explain things to her properly, which was another conversation you weren’t looking forward to. But for now, you just watch her, hoping she doesn’t injure herself with how determinedly she’s walking. You expect her to head towards Curtis’ table, which is why you freeze when she walks straight past him and up towards the stage.

The retired basketball coach is just about done with his speech, and you nervously rejoin Sharon who is also looking at Wanda climbing up the stairs of the stage with a confused look on her face.

“We need to go get her,” you murmur.

“Why, hello young lady,” the retired basketball coach greets Wanda warmly, “Are you here to present the first award?”

Both you and Sharon spot Wanda eyeing the microphone with a gleam in her eye, and the two of you stand up in unison, exchanging alarmed looks.

But Wanda is quick, bumping the retired coach out of the way with her hip. She grabs the mic, tapping it quickly many times in succession. A high-pitched feedback echoes across the room, and more eyes turn towards her from all the other tables in the hall. The retired coach gives her a confused smile before shrugging and slowly hobbling away. A number of stagehands look on in confusion, checking their clipboards to see if this was part of the show.

And that’s when Wanda starts talking.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I have an award of my own!” She grips on to the mic like a vice, teetering on the middle of the stage. Her hair’s messy, her face stained with dried up tears. The straps of her dress slipping down her shoulders, and the half empty wine glass still in her hand, the remaining contents of it sloshing out onto the polished wooden floor.

“What the hell is she doing?” Sharon whispers from beside you. All around you, everyone in the banquet hall is whispering amongst themselves, and now all eyes are glued to your drunken best friend on stage. The tables full of professors, coaches and alumni all look around in bewilderment, frowning as if Wanda being on stage is all part of some kind of skit before the award ceremony.

You glance over at the jocks on table 2. Ari shoots you a perplexed look, Ransom’s got his phone camera out, Andy’s grinning from ear to ear. Colin has the decency to look away, an embarrassed look on his face. And Curtis? Curtis leans back on his chair, an amused look on his face as if he’s ready to kick back and enjoy the show.

That means it’s all up to you.

“Wanda!” You hiss, glad that your table is close enough to the stage that she can hear you, “Wanda, you’re drunk. C’mon, let’s go to the bathroom so I can fix you up.”

She looks down at you and smirks evilly, before looking away as if she hasn’t even heard you. Instead, she once more taps the mic once, twice, three times. She giggles drunkenly, “Testing, testing, is this thing on?”

“Wanda, babe, come down please!” Sharon joins in, but she also gets promptly ignored. She bites her lip before turning to you, “God, how did we not realise how drunk she’d gotten? She’s gonna make a fool of herself.”

“Wanda!” You try again, raising your voice slightly, “Come down, Wanda, please! The awards ceremony is about to begin!”

“It’s already begun! And like I said, I have an award of my own,” Wanda says, looking beyond you but never fully at you. You can see her lip curled slightly, and either it’s a smile or a sneer – you can’t really tell. But it makes your blood run cold, and a strong sense of foreboding washes over you again, like how it had earlier in your bedroom.

Quickly, you make your way over to the stage, hoping to pull her off before she said anything to embarrass herself too much. And it’s when you’re climbing up the stairs at the side of the stage that she resumes speaking:

“I know you’re all here for some… some random basketball award,” Wanda slurs, “But I wanna get my award out of the way first. And it’s the award for St. Andrews’ college’s biggest fucking slut.”

You’re halfway up the stage by now, and it’s when you step up on to the polished wooden floor that you pause, her words sinking in and a horrific feeling dawning on you. Oh no…

“And look! Here she is, the slut herself!” Wanda cheers, pointing straight at you with an unsteady hand. She throws her head back and laughs, her other hand gripping on to the mic for dear life. “Everybody, please give it up for Y/N! She already knows she’s the winner, nobody else could ever compare! Y/N is undoubtedly the biggest fucking slut on campus, and she wholeheartedly deserves this fucking award!”

Pin drop silence. For the first second, that’s all you hear. Silence that’s so loud, it’s almost deafening. Ringing in your ears, closing in on you like a siren. Then, you feel the waves of heat. Red hot fire radiating all over your body. Your face, your arms, your neck. Everywhere. You can’t quite believe what’s happening, but you know there’s a banquet hall filled with strangers staring straight at you as if you’re swathed in a spotlight.

“Curtis, get your girl the fuck off the stage!” You hear Ari say somewhere in the distance, and you can see him getting to his feet.

“No fucking way, that bitch isn’t my problem anymore.” Curtis whispers back, a note of glee in his tone.

You remain frozen on stage, your heart thrumming up to your throat. Wanda cackles, drunkenly beckoning you closer. Someone – either a professor or a coach – tries to coax her off the stage but she bats him away as if he’s an insignificant fly.

“C’mon, Y/N! Don’t be shy, come accept your award!” Wanda holds up her now empty wine glass as if it’s a trophy, “Ladies and gentlemen, don’t be mistaken! Y/N isn’t normally this shy! I mean, she certainly wasn’t when she fucked my boyfriend!”

A hushed gasp fills the hall, followed by a host of whispers. There’s a tiny voice inside you, telling you to run. Just run, run, run away from it all. But your feet don’t move, firmly planted in place as your whole body buzzes with heat and the lump in your throat gets bigger and bigger. Why was Wanda doing this? Oh God, what was happening!?

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Ari scrape his chair back and stride over to the stage, a venomous look on his face. At the same time, you feel a warm hand on your shoulder as Sharon comes up the steps to stand beside you.

“Wanda, honey, that’s enough.” Sharon says softly, holding her other hand out to your drunken friend. “Come on. Let’s go home.”

“Don’t you honey me,” Wanda spits out, “And don’t look at me as if I’m some sort of fool. If anyone’s a fool, it’s you, Sharon!”

Oh no. You feel yourself going light-headed.

That’s when Ari jumps up on stage, looking huge and menacing as he strides over to Wanda. He grabs her by the upper arm roughly, “Carla, shut the fuck up right now if you know what’s good for you,” He hisses.

“Well look who it is! Mister Knight in Shining Armour, here to save the fucking day!” Wanda laughs, and at least she’s not speaking into the mic anymore, but did it even matter? “Y/N doesn’t need your help, Ari! She’s a fucking slut who enjoys sleeping with other people’s boyfriends, and she’s proud of it! You’re proud of it, aren’t you, Y/N!?”

You’re in no condition to answer her question. Now, your body seems to be experiencing rapid hot and cold flushes. Icicles, then fire, then icicles, then fire again. And your face feels like it’s been stabbed by a thousand pins and needles. It’s a sensation you’ve never felt before, almost like an out of body experience. Like you’re floating except it feels terrible instead of liberating, and there’s absolutely no way for you to escape the impending doom.

Someone’s directed the live band to start playing again, and the room fills with music to combat the earth-shattering silence. But you know everyone’s eyes are still on the spectacle that’s taking place on stage. Everyone’s looking at you. And it’s like all your insecurities from the past month had come back in full force. Except so much worse, because now everyone thinks you’re a slut.

To your horror, Wanda goes to speak into the mic again. But Ari quickly snatches it out of her hands, throwing it aside and shooting her a glare, “Don’t even fucking think about it.”

“Okay, Wanda, you’ve made your point,” Sharon interjects gently. “I don’t know why you’d spread all these lies about your own best friend who’s been nothing but good to you, but it’s done now. Let’s just go.” Again, she reaches for Wanda’s hand, only for the latter to shoot her a sneer.

“Stop acting so holier-than-thou, Sharon. You’re not worth shit anymore, not since you got dumped,” Wanda laughs, suddenly aware of who exactly is on stage with her. She glances from you to Ari to Sharon, a look of evil glee spreading across her drunken features. “Why don’t you ask Ari again why he dumped you? Or better yet, why don’t you ask your new best friend Y/N?”

The band’s now playing an upbeat song, the lead singer urging everyone to get up on the dance floor in a bid to distract them. A few people do, but most stay planted in their seats, their focus still on the stage. Not that any of that even matters, not when Wanda’s words hit you like a ton of bricks. Out of your peripheral, you sense Sharon inhale sharply from next to you, and a deep feeling of dread starts spreading across your chest.

“Curtis, get the fuck up here and deal with her,” Ari seethes through gritted teeth. Curtis rolls his eyes, slowly making his way up to the stage like a panther going on a leisurely stroll.

“She sleeps with everyone’s boyfriend!” Wanda explodes, pointing another accusatory finger at you. “She doesn’t care about ruining relationships, all Y/N cares about is herself, Sharon! That’s why she’s been sleeping with Ari for months behind your back! And I kept her secret because I was being a good friend to her! Little did I know she fucked my boyfriend too!”

“That’s it, you’re fucking done,” Ari yanks Wanda off the stage, roughly pushing her down the steps all while keeping an iron grip on her forearm.

Thankfully, and yet a little too late, a stage hand drops the curtains. Dramatically, they fall down, shielding you from the stare and gossip of the audience. But you don’t feel any better. No, all you feel is pure, frozen shock. And the chaotic pantomime continues, even with the stage curtains now drawn.

“She’s been fucking Ari this whole time! She even fucked him out in the open at that frat party. In front of everyone, because that’s the type of slut she is!” Wanda cries out, stumbling over her words that act like bullets directed straight for Sharon. And, of course, you. “And she fucked Curtis too that night! Like the biggest fucking whore in the whole world! It’s true ‘cause he just told me! And God knows what she did with Steve, she probably let him smash too! As if slutting around on one campus wasn’t enough, she had to target a guy from a different college, and–”

She’s cut off by Ari plastering his huge hand over her mouth, all while she struggles and fights against him. He continues dragging her down the steps before throwing her into Curtis’ arms. Immediately, Wanda pacifies, grabbing on to Curtis for dear life while the buzzcut-haired man holds her gingerly.

“Get her out of here. I don’t care where the fuck you take her, I just want her gone.” Ari orders, narrowing his eyes when Curtis opens his mouth, “Don’t fucking argue with me, Everett. Go.”

Curtis rolls his eyes again, cautiously taking hold of Wanda who shuts up momentarily when she notices who’s holding her. She looks up at him with shining drunken eyes. “Curtis! You came back for me! Oh, I forgive you for fucking Y/N! I know she’s a huge slut and she probably seduced you! It wasn’t your fault at all, baby, I know that! Please let me be your girlfriend again, Curtis, please, I’ll do anything–”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Curtis grunts as he drags Wanda towards the exit. Thankfully, she’s docile enough in his arms, and easily goes with him.

Leaving carnage in her wake.

They all think I’m a slut, you think it again, still frozen in place. And I am! I am, I am, I am! I’m a backstabbing slut and this is what I deserve. Total public humiliation.

You pull yourself out of whatever catatonic state your body wants to shut you down into. The stage curtains are drawn and you’re protected from all the stares of the guests, and yet you feel like you can still hear the buzz of their whispers. The gossip formulating, your name on the tips of all their tongues. Spoken with disdain and disgust. Oh, you want nothing more than to just shut down and disappear. But you can’t. You can’t shut down yet, not yet. Instead, you force yourself to face Sharon head on, and come clean about what you should’ve come clean about ages ago.

“Sharon, please, just let me expl–”

“It’s not true, is it?” Sharon says slowly. Her cheeks look red, her eyes stricken, as if Wanda’s drunken bombshell has reached out and slapped her across the face. Her mouth downturned as if she’s about to cry, and yet she’s using every fibre of her being to hold herself together.

Ari chooses that moment to come up next to you, instinctively putting his hand on your shoulder. And Sharon looks from him to you back to him again. And then her face falls, and it’s like it’s all happening in slow motion and you’ve got a front row seat to someone’s heart being broken in real-time. Her face crumples as realisation dawns on her, and a whimpering sound leaves her mouth.

“It is true…” She breathes.

“I am so, so sorry,” You begin, not even knowing how to start. You feel numb and disorientated, like Wanda’s screaming expose has hit you like a freight train you may never recover from. And yet you know not to be selfish enough to make it all about you in this moment, not when Sharon looks so betrayed right in front of you. And yet a tear rolls down your cheek as you look at her, “Sharon, please understand how sorry I am. I know I should’ve told you before, there’s literally no excuse–”

“You’re right, there isn’t.” She cuts you off coldly, but the iciness doesn’t reach her eyes which shine with a mix of tears and betrayal. “How could you? You were supposed to be my friend. Th-This whole time I thought you were my friend…”

“Hey, leave her alone,” Ari interjects, positioning himself in front of you protectively. “If you want to be angry at someone, be angry at me. She’s already been through enough tonight.”

“DON’T YOU DARE DEFEND HER, YOU LYING PIECE OF SHIT!” Sharon bursts out in a blaze of fury, “For once in your life, show me a little bit of respect and don’t fucking defend the girl you cheated on me with right to my face! I was your girlfriend once upon a time, Ari. And you act like it meant nothing.”

Her voice breaks at the end, and she fiercely wipes away her tears. It smears up her makeup too, but she looks like she’s past the point of caring.

“All I’m saying is to leave Y/N out of this, Sharon. Whatever happened between me and her wasn’t her fault at all. You and I can discuss this privately.” Ari says, his tone hard and serious. He’s standing tall, as if being exposed for your joint betrayal has him completely unfazed. You, on the other hand, feel like you’re about two feet tall.

Sharon looks at Ari incredulously, before her eyes shift back to you as if she can’t help it. “I trusted you, Y/N.” She says brokenly, “I..I liked you. I liked you so much. You have no idea how much I…” Her voice trails off for a second before it hardens: “…and this whole time you were going behind my back.”

You swallow harshly, “I’m so sorry. Please, I know what I’ve done is unforgivable. But just believe me when I tell you that I’m so, so genuinely sorry. Wh-When me and Ari started… I didn’t even know you back then and I know that doesn’t excuse it–”

“IT DOESN’T EXCUSE IT!” Sharon screams, and beyond her shoulder you can see a few people peeping through the curtains as if to continue watching the show. “It doesn’t excuse it at all, Y/N! You had so many chances where you could’ve come clean to me, but you chose to lie to my fucking face.” She laughs bitterly, as if she can’t believe all this is actually happening. “Oh God, how stupid could I have been? All those times when I was crying to you about my breakup, or when I was trying to help you get through your boy troubles… All that time you were sleeping with Ari and I never suspected a damn thing?! Oh, you must’ve been laughing your ass off behind my back!”

You scramble to explain yourself, you want to say more, but it’s like your throat’s closing up now. Like you’re experiencing some type of allergic reaction. Your skin feels like it’s crawling, like your self-disgust has just boiled over the edge and you’re covered in the shame and guilt that’s been festering inside you. Except it’s now also mixed with the sheer humiliation from everything you’ve just experienced. What could you possibly say to explain yourself? She was right. She was one thousand percent right.

They were all right about you, the voice in your head cackles. Steve and Wanda and probably everyone else who’s thinking it right now. You’re a slut.

“Leave her the fuck alone, Sharon.” Ari threatens lowly, dropping his hand from your shoulder and taking a menacing step towards the blonde. “I mean it. Not another word.”

Sharon tilts her head, and you find her looking at you. Really looking at you. As if she’s searching the plains of your face to detect the level of your honesty. And you want to look away, want to look down because of how humiliated you are. But you look back at her meekly, feeling like a fucking backstabbing rat. Oh God, why had you not just come clean to her weeks ago when the two of you had first started becoming friends? Were you truly that spineless? Were you really that much of a coward?

“Get out.” Sharon says coldly, the hurt on her face now replaced with an impenetrable mask of stone-cold indifference. “Get out of here, Y/N. I don’t want to look at you. I thought we were friends but it’s like I don’t even know you. And I never knew you. So just get out of here. GET OUT!”

Her venomous words make you jump. Your lower lip quivers, and you feel like the dirt at the bottom of everyone’s shoe. Ari turns around, tries to grab your hand but you back away quickly. Your heel catches on something and you stumble. Regaining your balance, you see Ari coming towards you, and Sharon staring you down from behind him. The pity and concern in his eyes, the pure betrayal in hers. Oh, you don’t want any of it! You just wish you’d disappear!

You take off into a run, your heels clacking on the wooden floor noisily but you don’t care. You do exactly what Sharon’s told you to do – you run. Gathering up your dress so it doesn’t get caught in your shoes. Oh, and who cares if it did? Who cares at all? Certainly not you.

You run out into the full banquet hall, trying not to meet anyone’s gaze. Trying to block out what they’re whispering. You know they’re talking about you; you know they’re looking at you as if you’re the biggest backstabbing whore in the whole world. Which you are. Oh, how spectacularly everything had fallen apart!

Somewhere behind you, you can hear Ari calling out your name. But you don’t stop, don’t look back. Not this time. You weave through the crowd, your tears blurring your vision but you don’t dare stop. Out into the hotel lobby, down the marble steps adorned in grand red carpeting with gold tassels. Feeling like a warped Cinderella who wasn’t the helpless princess after all, but instead the backstabbing villain. Out the front entrance, and the doorman stares at you but you don’t care, and the outside cold hits you like a ton of bricks.

As if on cue, the wind roars loudly, slapping you in the face with all its might and fury. And you remember earlier tonight, when you’d wondered whether the winds had been trying to warn you about something. Oh, your intuition had been right! Why hadn’t you just stayed at home?! Now, the wind swirls around you threateningly, and you just stand there in the bitter cold, as if daring it to attack you. All around you, the grass rustles, the trees cower, the very ground seems to shake as gust after gust hits at you, and your hair comes loose, and you’re about to start crying in earnest, and–

“Y/N, wait! Stop!” Ari grabs your hand, his familiar warmth shooting through your entire body. He pulls you into his arms, embracing you fiercely. Your burst into ferocious tears that you hadn’t realised you’d been holding in. Loud, wracking sobs muffled by his strong chest as he holds you close. “I’m so sorry that happened, baby. I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”

“I did!” You cry, another gust of wind hitting you like a wake-up call, and you push off of him with tears streaming down your face. “I did deserve it, Ari! I deserved all of it!”

There’s an invisible whirlpool around the two of you. Maybe you’re imagining it in your delirium, but it’s like a swirling of energy, entrapping the two of you together on this stormy night. The wind howls around you both, ringing in your ears as if to warn you again, telling you this is all wrong, wrong, wrong!

And Ari looks at you like his whole heart’s in his eyes, and they glisten with emotion that you’ve never seen in him before. And he holds you close, and cups your face. He wipes your tears as if to soothe you, but how could you soothe someone who was so beyond repair that perhaps repair wasn’t even an option anymore? How!?

“Let me take you home,” he whispers, “I don’t want you to be alone tonight. Please, let’s just go. And I swear I’ll deal with everything; I’ll deal with all of them. I’ll make them pay for hurting you. Just please, stop crying and come with me.”

“No!” You snatch your hand out of his and step back, shaking your head fiercely. “Don’t you get it, Ari? We’re not right together and we never will be!”

“That’s not true–”

“Yes, it is!” You sob freely, “How many people do we have to hurt for it to sink in that we just don’t work?” Ferociously, you wipe at your tears, not that it matters when new one’s flow down your cheeks freely, “All we ever do is fight, Ari! We just run around in circles and fight and hurt each other and hurt everyone around us! And now I know it’s ‘cause we just don’t work, and we never will!”

“No.” Ari says firmly, “I’m the one who hurt people, okay? Not us. Just me. And you got caught in the crossfire and I’m fucking sorry.”

You shake your head, “It doesn’t matter anymore. None of it matters, Ari. They all think I’m a slut and they’re all right! And I’ll never live this down and I don’t deserve to live it down! So just leave me alone, okay? JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!”

“NO!” Ari roars, louder than the wind itself, and louder than you too. “No, I’m not fucking leaving you alone! I told you that I care about you, and I’m never gonna leave you alone. So just… just come on. Let me take you home, baby. I’ll make it better, I promise.”

The blustering winds form an impenetrable current around the two of you, whistling and swirling with rogue leaves like a tornado that you seem to be trapped in with him. And in an ironic way, it perfectly encapsulates your relationship with him: a whirlwind. A tornado. A constant uphill battle filled with fights and arguments, always one step forward and then two steps back. Maybe it was time to just give up, to come to terms with how it just didn’t work between you and him.

You sniffle weakly, “Nothing can make this better. Whatever there was between us, it was never going to work. Not when it started out as a lie.”

Tenderly, yet charged with an electric emotion you can’t quite pinpoint, he cups your face again. Your freezing wet cheeks welcome the warmth they bring, despite everything.

“I’ll make it better,” Ari repeats, softer this time. He presses his forehead against yours. “You mean more to me than Sharon or anyone else ever did. And I know our relationship started out wrong because I lied to you. Constantly. I know that. But I promise you I’ll make it all better and you’ll never hurt again how you’re hurting now.”

You feel like you’re at a crossroads. You’ve gone through more emotional turmoil in these past few weeks than you have in any other point of your life. And each time, you’ve fallen back into Ari’s arms in a heap of tears. So, what about this time? Would you do the same thing again? Another circle? Another fight? Another heartbreak?

“I’m in love with you.” Ari breathes. And in that moment, even the winds stand still. And his eyes look like twin oceans with stars scattered inside them. And those stars in his eyes, those stars get bigger and bigger till they’re all you can see. And you can’t hear anything anymore, except for his breathing and yours. And you can feel only one thing, and that’s his hands cupping your cheeks as he gazes at you with a look of desperation mixed with something else. Something passionate. And honest. “I’m in love with you, okay? I’ve never been in love before but I’m pretty positive that I love you, and I promise I’ll protect you from ever being hurt again.”

In the distance, beyond his shoulder, a branch from a tree falls to the ground. As if unable to stand the wrath of the wind on this night. It crashes down, all the way down till it’s no longer a part of what it had once always known. You focus on it for a split second, before some kind of magnetic pull makes you look back to Ari.

“Why does it always take some sort of traumatic event for you to say these things?” You whisper, letting his words bounce off you. Not letting them permeate into your heart and set camp, not allowing them to let you hope. Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted to hear from him!?

“I’ve felt this way for a while,” he says earnestly, “I just didn’t want to admit it to myself. But I told you, I’m ready now. For everything. I love you, and I want everyone to know it.” He draws you closer, cradling your face in his warm hands. How are they so warm on such a cold night? How was he so warm when you felt so cold, cold, cold?! So freezing cold from the inside out?

I love you. I’m in love with you. I promise I’ll protect you. I love you. I love you. I love you.

Oh, his words were finding their way into your heart! You take a timid step closer, allow yourself to look into his eyes. Everything was crashing and burning around you. Your life was ruined, and so was your reputation. Everyone thought you were a slut and you had no friends left at all. But Ari was here. Solid. Real. Right in front of you. Saying all the right things on a night that had gone so horrifically wrong. Should you allow yourself this? Did you deserve it? Did he?

His lips have barely brushed against yours when you hear a loud shatter right next to you.

“You told me you weren’t going to be with him tonight.”

Steve. Standing less than a foot away from you. A glass bottle lying broken by his feet, the smell of vodka strongly emanating from him. His hair falls over his forehead, swaying gently in the roaring wind. His eyes black, blown out, barely there. Hooded, like he’s sad. Betrayed. Oh, how did he even get here!?

Your jaw drops open, “Steve, I–”

“How fucking dare you show your face in front of her after everything you put her through?” Ari growls, pushing you behind him before squaring up to Steve. “Get the fuck out of here, Rogers. Before I break your neck.”

You swallow harshly, “Ari, don’t…”

Steve sidesteps Ari, and those sad eyes look straight at you. Penetrating down straight to your soul.

“You kissed me earlier tonight, but now you’re choosing him.”

He says it matter-of-factly, his words slurring slightly but still clear as day. You feel a pang in your heart. From your peripheral, you see Ari bristle at Steve’s words, clearly taken aback by what he’s just revealed.

You open your mouth, but it feels all dried up. Like you’re back in the middle of the stage with an audience of people watching you get exposed for your betrayal.

“You don’t have to answer him.” Ari says to you, quickly recovering and grabbing your hand protectively before turning back to sneer at Steve. “Get the hell out of here. Tonight isn’t the night for your bullshit.”

“He’ll only hurt you,” Steve says, ignoring Ari and looking directly at you. “I told you; all Ari ever does is hurt people.”

“Shut your fucking mouth, Steve, or else I’ll–”

“Or else you’ll what, Ari? I don’t give a fuck what you do.” Steve finally looks at the brunet, squaring up to him till they’re both face to face. Each as big as the other, each as menacing as the other. But that’s where the similarities end. Ari looks wary, on edge. And Steve? Steve looks like he has nothing left to lose.

“Oh yeah? Is that why you’ve been dodging me all these weeks?” Ari barks out a laugh, but it sounds hollow, almost forced. And his eyes keep darting between Steve and back to you. “I’m telling you for the last time, Rogers. Walk away so she doesn’t have to see me kill you.”

“Stop acting like some kind of fucking hero, Ari. You of all people should know that’s not what you are.” Steve fires back, “You’ll hurt her, just like you hurt–”

“My car’s parked around the corner. You know what it looks like. Go, I don’t want you to see this.” Ari says to you, his hand dropping yours as he keeps his eyes on the blonde in front of him. You watch as his fists clench by his sides.

There’s a pause before Steve laughs. And just like Ari’s from earlier, Steve’s laugh sounds hollow too. Like neither of them are enjoying this confrontation. And neither are you, and yet your feet remain planted to the ground. The winds are still howling around you, encasing the three of you in a whirlpool. And within it, you sense the strongest feeling of foreboding you’ve felt yet.

“You still haven’t told her, have you?” Steve accuses.

A dark, anxious feeling pools inside your chest, twisting your veins, reaching straight for your heart. More secrets? “Tell me what, Ari?”

“Go to my car, I’m serious.”

“I heard your little speech from just now. I heard all your promises. How you’ll never hurt her again,” Steve shoves Ari. And it’s a drunken shove, but a hard one. “How you’ll protect her,” another shove, “How you’re in love with her.”

“Shut the fuck up, Steve. You have no idea what you’re–”

“Tell me, is that what you told my sister too?”

Everything stops. Even the wind, with how fierce and mighty it had been all night, comes to a screeching halt. It’s like the grass stops rustling, the trees stop swaying. You think your heart has stopped too. Steve’s sister? Kira? Ari knew her? The dark, anxious feeling doubles up, multiplies in a millisecond. You feel like your insides have turned to tar, and your blood freezes in the worst way possible.

“Wh-What’s he talking about, Ari?” Your question comes out soft, timid. As if you’re afraid of the answer.

Ari’s head whips around, and his cheeks are flushed. His jaw tensed, his eyes wild. Quickly, he shakes his head, “He doesn’t know what he’s saying, okay? Clearly, he’s drunk, and high off of something, and he doesn’t know what he’s saying–”

“WHAT THE FUCK DID KIRA EVER DO TO YOU, ARI?!” Steve erupts, making you jump. Ari flinches too, but Steve closes in on him, his dark eyes blazing. “What did she ever do to you? Except trust you?” He laughs bitterly, “Maybe that was her mistake. Trusting someone like you.” And then he looks straight at you, “Don’t make the same mistake, Y/N. He’ll run you out of this place just like he did my sister.”

Your lower lip quivers, “What do you mean?”

Ari grabs your hand and pulls you back, “Let’s just go. He doesn’t know what he means. He has no fucking clue what he’s talking about.”

Like it’s a hot poker, you pull your hand out of his grip, staring up at him incredulously.

“I have no fucking clue, huh? As if I haven’t been in the same house as her, watching her lock herself up in her room and cry for the past fucking year!” Steve says, and this time he squares up to Ari again, grabbing the brunet’s collar to make him look at him. “As if I haven’t watched her become a fucking shell of her former self, as if I haven’t watched her lose her smile, lose her personality, lose her fucking will to interact with anyone. All because of you!”

Now it’s Ari’s turn to shove Steve, and he does it with full force. Steve stumbles backwards, and Ari looks at him in fury. And yet he doesn’t say anything, nothing at all. And the sticky black tar coats your heart and starts seeping into your lungs, making it hard for you to breathe. Making it hard for you to make sense of what’s going on. Oh god, what exactly was Steve saying?! And why wasn’t Ari denying anything?!

“You can’t even deny it anymore, can you?” Steve spits out, “And now you’re out here actin’ like a fuckin’ superhero, promising Y/N the entire world. Well, why don’t you answer my question, Levinson? Is that what you promised Kira too? Is that what you fucking promised her before you spread those pictures of her to every fucking person you know?”

That’s when you feel like the wind’s been knocked out of you. You feel faint, dizzy. Like you’re no longer real. Ari turns to look at you, and you can’t even begin to decipher his expression but it’s like you no longer want to look at him. Pictures? Like nudes? Ari? Spreading private pictures of Kira around campus??? You shake your head, willing him to say something, to deny it all vehemently.

“She’s my sister,” Steve’s voice breaks, an outpouring of emotion that you’ve never ever seen from him. His face red, his fists clenched but not in anger, more so in desperate sadness. “She’s my sister and you were my friend and you fucking broke her, Ari. She couldn’t handle it, everyone talking about her, laughing at her. You ran her out of school, and you broke her. And now you’re gonna do the same thing to Y/N too.”

Ari swallows, looking stricken how you’ve never seen him look before. He sucks in his breath, and when he speaks, it sounds like it’s a stranger talking: “Don’t even act like you have Y/N’s best interests at heart, after what you did to her. And you have no idea what you’re sayi–”

“This is who he is!” Steve erupts again, this time looking straight at you, “My sister was so fucking trusting, she did whatever he asked her to. She sent him pictures that were supposed to be private, all ‘cause he told her to. She never should’ve trusted an asshole like him but she did, she trusted him with everything she had, and now look at her.” He shakes his head, his entire body shaking from either anger or grief or both. “And Kira, she was so broken over it, she told me never to mention it again to anyone, she made me promise not to. But you need to know who he really is. He’s a fucking asshole who’ll hurt anyone! He hurt Kira, he hurt Sharon, and he’ll hurt you too.”

“Let’s go,” Ari says to you, gathering himself and grabbing your hand, “Let’s just go and I’ll explain everything.”

For the second time, you snatch your hand away from his and shake your head, your mind racing and you think you’re going to be sick. Oh God, how many more times would Ari lie to you? “Don’t touch me.”

“Baby, I said I’d explain–”

“You knew Steve’s sister this whole time?”

“Yes, but–”

“Wh-Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you mention it even once?” Your voice sounds high, like you’re about to start crying from shock. And betrayal. You suck in your breath. He’d been hiding this from you, so what else was he hiding?

He tries to grab your hand again, but you take a step back in disbelief.

“Don’t you dare touch me. Y-You’re a liar! You lied again. You told me you wouldn’t lie to me but you lied again!” Oh, you feel like you don’t even know him anymore! Did you ever truly know him to begin with? You think back to Kira, so anxious that she couldn’t even look you in the eye. Had Ari really hurt her so badly? Spread around nude pictures of her and ruined her life and then continued on with his own as if none of it had even happened? “H-How could you do that to her? How could you–”

Ari opens his mouth to speak, but that’s when Steve tackles him. You scream, caught off-guard as the two behemoths fall to the ground. The wind resumes its wicked gusts, and this time it’s like it’s taunting you. Taunting you for forcing yourself time and time again to live in this fairytale utopia where Ari and you could ever possibly work. Each slap of cold air on your face reminding you that nothing, nothing in the whole world, could ever make the two of you work.

And maybe it was written in the stars, maybe this fight was bound to happen between the two of them. And yet you can’t make sense of it, watching with stricken horror as Steve grabs Ari’s collar again.

“You sick, twisted bastard! Fuck you for ruining my sister!” Steve punches him, but Ari quickly dodges it. And Steve’s movements are slower, sluggish. You feel sick thinking of how much he’s had to drink tonight. He was already drunk hours ago when he’d showed up at your dorm room, but now? Now he looks doubly wasted, teetering on the verge of no return and completely past the point of even caring about it.

Steve’s fuelled by alcohol and a tragic rage. No, rage was the wrong word, because the anger he was exhibiting now was nothing like when he’d punched the wall or when he’d lost his cool at basketball practice. Now, it felt different. Like he was charged by his own sadness, and an underlying sense of resignation. Like a part of him didn’t care what would happen to him by the end of tonight. Like he was getting all his punches in before he… before he…

“Stop!” You finally find your voice and yell out, but it doesn’t carry, your words getting lost in the wind. Ari shoves Steve off of him, dragging both of them to their feet. Steve throws another punch, and Ari dodges it just in time so instead of his fist connecting with his jaw, it slams painfully against his shoulder. But Ari doesn’t flinch.

“You have no fucking clue what you’re talking about!” Ari snarls, drawing his fist back to punch back. That’s when you throw all caution to the wind and run forward, coming between them.

“Don’t, Ari! He’s drunk, and he took all this medication, and…” your voice trails off, but the worry is evident in your tone as the realisation hits you. His medication for his mood swings. How much of it had he taken? Ari pauses, still glaring daggers at Steve, who looks back at him just as venomously.

“HIT ME, LEVINSON! DO IT, JUST HIT ME!” Steve shouts, louder than the wind itself. “It’s not like I’ve got shit to lose, so go right ahead! I’ve said what I had to say and now I’m fucking done.” His face twists, veins popping in his forehead, his blonde locks brushing over his wild eyes as they rest on you. His gaze softens somewhat, like a drunken, tragic hero. “I’m done, Y/N. It’s okay, I’m done. And I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for scaring you. I hope one day you’ll be able to forgive me.”

Why was he talking like that? You have no time to contemplate his words, however. Because Ari steps forward in front of you, his fist clenched to his side. And you’ve never seen him look this angry, and once more he draws his fist back, and you try to find your voice to stop him but nothing comes out. And the wind hits its crescendo, and there’s a clap of thunder serving as an exclamation point to this disastrous evening. Your entire body jerks, as if expecting something terrible to happen, and you close your eyes and you brace yourself…

A loud thud. You open your eyes, a scream getting caught in your throat when you see Steve on the ground. Motionless.

“Ari, what did you do!?” You cry.

Ari turns to you, breathing hard and yet he’s got a confused look on his face. His fist is still clenched but he shakes his head in shock.

“Nothing. I swear I didn’t do anything, he just… He just collapsed.”

You run over, crouch down next to Steve, trying to survey any damage. Sure enough, his face looks pristine, apart from a bluish-purple hue to his pale skin that you hadn’t noticed before. No signs of having been punched, however. But it’s his eyes that catch your attention, stricken and looking straight up. Almost like he’s unresponsive, when just a second ago he’d been on his feet and just fine.

“Oh god, oh my god. Steve!?” Your voice goes high with panic. With trembling hands, and quick, flurrying movements, you shake his shoulders. But all that does is make his head loll back, and he’s still staring up at the sky with a glassy look on his face, not reacting to you at all. Almost like he’s on another planet. Trying to keep your panic at bay, you quickly try and feel for his pulse, and that’s when you really start to lose it.

“Oh my god, Ari, he-he doesn’t have a pulse! I can’t find his pulse, I c-can’t– ARI, DO SOMETHING!”

Ari, who up until this moment seemed to be frozen in shock, staring at his still clenched fist as he stood over the two of you, seems to finally snap out of it. He springs into action, pushing you aside and crouching down next to the blond. He grabs his wrist while you look on, horrified beyond belief over what exactly was happening in front of your eyes.

He knew that mixing alcohol with his medication was dangerous, you think to yourself, another bout of sick realisation dawning on you. He’s pre-med, he’s studying to be a doctor. Of course, he knew! Had he… had he meant to do this? Oh God…

“He’s got a pulse,” Ari mutters, “He’s got one but it’s weak.”

Tears gather in your eyes as your head starts to spin, “H-He was on this medication, he told me earlier F-For his mood swings or something. And he was drinking too, and he probably took his pills and he drank and, oh God, I should’ve done something! I didn’t think it was that bad, I didn’t–”

“We need to call 911.” Ari says firmly, and you’re relieved that at least one of you is keeping their wits about them. You don’t know whether Ari’s just good under pressure or whether he’s in genuine shock too, judging by the frozen look on his face. Nevertheless, you watch him as he stands up, getting his phone out of his pocket and dialling the number.

And, almost like in cruel irony, the howling winds that had been swirling around you have now gone silent. Deathly silent. It’s like the three of you are in a vacuum, and yet you can barely even hear Ari talking on the phone. All you can hear is your fucking heart in your chest, and the racing of your own thoughts: this is my fault, this is my fault, this is my fault…

“Come on, Steve!” You urge, grabbing his hand and almost recoiling because of how limp and cold it feels. He’d been so warm when you’d kissed him hours earlier, so warm and soft. And it seems like lightyears ago, that kiss followed by the breathless silence. How you’d noted how he looked like he was one sip away from disaster. Oh, why hadn’t you done more? You could have sobered him up, but you’d been so wrapped up in your own problems. And now?

“P-Please, don’t do this. Just wake up. Or say something, just please!” And you don’t know why you’re having such a reaction – wasn’t it you who’d told Steve hours ago how you and him barely even knew each other? How there was nothing between the two of you? How he’d ruined all of that? Then why, why, why was your heart burning up right now? Like a ball of fire deep in your chest, waiting to explode. You tap his cheek desperately, noting the blueish tone of his lips, wondering why you hadn’t noticed that earlier. Beating yourself up over it.

“They’re coming,” you hear Ari say behind you, “An ambulance is on its way. It’s gonna be okay.”

But you don’t even hear him, too busy thinking back to when Steve had been in your dorm room earlier tonight. The sad look in his eyes as he’d turned to leave after your kiss. You can feel your tears soaking up your freezing cold cheeks now as you squeeze his hand.

“I forgive you, okay? I forgive you! Just wake up, please! Steve, just wake up! Didn’t you hear me? I forgive you!”

Your tears blur your vision, and his face becomes a pale blur. Fiercely, you wipe your eyes with your one free hand. And vaguely, you can feel Ari’s hand on your shoulder. And his is so warm. And Steve’s is so cold. Hot and cold. Cold and hot. You don’t even notice when you feel your own hand being squeezing lightly.

“That’s good,” Steve says faintly, his lips barely moving. You gasp and move closer, hoping you haven’t imagined it. His eyes flutter gently, like he doesn’t want to keep them open anymore. But his face looks relaxed, so relaxed that it’s scary, and it feels like you’re looking at a ghost. Those blue lips part once more. “Don’t worry about me. I’m comfortably numb, remember? I think I finally made it last…”

“No, no, no, no…” you scramble, watching as his eyes slip shut. You squeeze his hand again, shake at his shoulders, tap his cheek. Oh no, no, no, no. And all around you, the trees start swaying once more. The great gusts of wind continue, almost like they never even stopped, and another branch falls to the ground. The grass rustles beneath where Steve lies, and the moonlight shines on his face, making his pallor look a deathly kind of beautiful. Like an angel.

And it reminds you of the first night you’d met him. The night you’d dreamed of him. He’d looked like an angel in your dreams too.

The wind whistles with great might, and it sounds like a cackle. As if it’s mocking you. And Steve is still, and Ari’s still holding firmly on to you, and you can barely hear the blare of the siren as the ambulance slowly approaches.

A/N: .....did Steve just.... OH MY GODDD. Well, if you made it this far then congratulations!!! I really hope y'all liked it. I'm so scared it didn't live up to expectations. I KNOW there was no smut but you guys I tried my best to see where I could fit it in... I just couldn't justify putting it in anywhere in the story and it actually making sense, pls understand! UGHHH I'm just so insecure about this chapter, but if you liked it PLESE PLEASE let me know what you think! Any thoughts, comments, feedback would genuinely be appreciated SO much like SO SO much omfg. Like any favourite parts etc? I really wanted to focus on romantic scenes between reader and the two guys and i hope i showed that! BUT YEAH PLS LMK WHAT YOU THINK ILY ILY.

Okay and as usual, here are some questions!! (y'all don't have to answer them, but just in case anyone does!!!)

Which romantic scene did you prefer? Steve coming up reader's window or Ari taking reader on a picnic? OR NEITHER???

What are your thoughts on Carla Wanda after this chapter??? LMFAOO.

Why was Sharon more upset with reader than with Ari? Hmm.....

Did Ari really spread Kira's nudes around :( ?? Or do you think there's more to the story?

TEAM ARI OR TEAM STEVE? ( if he's okay that is damn )

AND THAT'S IT! Hope y'all enjoyed it! I'm gonna stop yapping now bahahaha byeee ily ily ily

trucker king (part 3)

pairing: dark trucker!ari levinson x female reader

summary: ari levinson finally takes you home—to his home—and your relationship deepens.

warnings: 18+ content (minors do not interact!!!), smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, anal sex (f receiving), oral sex (m & f receiving), fingering, squirting, vaginal fisting, rough sex, sadism/masochism, choking, breathplay, dacryphilia, painplay, rough body play, rough breast/nipple play, orgasm delay, multiple orgasms, so much overstimulation, somnophilia, cock warming, hint of a breeding kink, dirty talk, daddy kink, heavy degradation, some praise, pet names (sweetheart, baby, kiddo), possessive sex, possessive behavior, aftercare, controlling behavior, referenced abduction, referenced sex as payment, stockholm syndrome, a mean hot man—please please please let me know if i forgot to tag something!!!

word count: 12.5k

a/n: this was originally supposed to be a short transitional chapter setting up the next part of the story but i love love love writing these two and i couldn't stop myself from writing about what their life would be like at home when they're not in ari's truck. i also wrote ari a little softer here than i was expecting, but he's still very much a mean, rough and filthy trucker so don't worry!!! ahhh i love him so much, i hope y'all do too!! (also sorry if the end feels kinda rushed 😅)

trucker king masterlist

After a few weeks on the road, Ari Levinson finally took you home—to his home. You were delighted to discover he lived in a cozy little bungalow in a beachside town somewhere on the East coast. As you climbed down from the rig with Ari’s help, the sun was rising over the sand dunes at the end of the street, casting the home in a warm, golden glow.

The dark cedar shake siding of Ari’s bungalow was shaded by greenery that was blooming from early spring rain and partially obscuring the house from the street. A low, weathered wooden fence ran around the property line, lined by shrubs and hedges, all of which looked well-maintained. There weren’t any flowers to be seen, giving the house a distinctly masculine appearance. But it was nice and neat, reminding you of the way Ari kept his truck.

Sand and gravel crunched beneath your feet as you started venturing away from the narrow, tree-shaded driveway where Ari had parked the truck cab, which he’d detached from the trailer when he’d finished his haul. You’d wanted to get a better look at the garden by the porch that ran across the entire front of the bungalow, but Ari’s hand shot out and circled your upper arm, pulling you back to him.

“Stay close, sweetheart,” he rumbled, giving you a sharp look that you knew was meant to drive his order home. There was still an undercurrent of distrust in Ari’s expression, his blue eyes guarded as he gathered his things from the truck and slung a bag of laundry over his shoulder. “Don’t want you getting any ideas about running off.”

Curling your fingers in the belt loop of Ari’s pants, you held onto him, tugging lightly so he always knew you were there while you admired his home and neighborhood some more. All the while, Ari watched you out of the corner of his eye. 

You knew a part of him still expected you to try to run, and you would’ve huffed a frustrated sigh if you weren’t so curious about what exactly had made him so certain you would leave him. Even after a few weeks sharing the small confines of his truck and the little cot in the back, there was so much you didn’t know about Ari Levinson—and you were aching to find out. 

For the moment, though, you let him gather up his things in peace. You had plenty of time to learn everything there was to know about your truck driver.

Humidity hung heavy in the air, warming it enough to make it pleasant, with a gentle breeze wafting down the street from the beach, carrying the salty tang of the ocean. The street was quiet, and you assumed Ari’s neighbors were still sleeping since it was just after sunrise. 

Taking a deep breath and inhaling the scent of sand and salt, feeling the first rays of the spring sun’s warmth, was all it took to fall in love with Ari’s home. 

You hadn’t even gone inside, but you already felt more at home than you ever had in your shitty little apartment in the city. You couldn’t help yourself from imagining growing old with Ari in his cozy little bungalow by the beach, the two of you safe and happy in your home together. You knew it was foolish, especially when Ari still believed you had one foot out the door, but you were all in—and determined to make a future with your trucker.

The sharp snap of the truck door closing brought you back to the moment. Your fingers were still curled around Ari’s belt loop, so when he started walking toward the front door, you were tugged along. 

“Y’know, your house would look nice with some flower boxes on the front porch,” you said as you quickened your pace to keep up with your trucker’s long legs. “Or by the fence.” You climbed the steps to the porch on Ari’s heels, noticing there wasn’t any outdoor furniture. “A porch swing might be nice, too,” you added offhandedly.

At the door, Ari was focused on his keys, but he shot you a wary look out of the corner of his eye. Otherwise, he gave no indication he’d heard your suggestions for home improvement. Instead, he pushed open the door and led you inside, your fingers still curled around his belt loop, like you were the one afraid of being left behind.

The interior of Ari’s home was similar to the exterior—warm, masculine, neat. The room was painted in a soft blue color, contrasting with dark wooden furniture. The house clearly had a pretty fresh coat of paint, and even though it hadn’t been remodeled in a couple decades, if ever, it was well-kept.

The front door opened up into a living room with a kitchen tucked off to the side. It was spartan, with the only furniture in the space being a small kitchen table with two chairs, a large overstuffed couch, coffee table, recliner chair and a huge TV mounted on the wall. There was nothing in the way of decoration, only the windows in the walls letting in plenty of light.

Ari dropped most of the things he brought in from the truck on the table, then led you through a doorway off the living room into the bedroom. Just like the other spaces, the bedroom was more economical than cozy, with simple furniture—a massive king-sized bed covered in black bedding, some side tables and a dark wooden dresser that acted as a TV stand for another huge flatscreen.

The back wall of the room was made up of mostly windows, all of which overlooked a neat and tidy back yard, with a shed in one corner opposite a detached garage at the end of the driveway. Disentangling yourself from Ari’s belt loop, you spun in a circle, giving Ari’s home another look now that you’d seen most of it.

It needed some work, you decided, to make it truly feel like a home, but you were just the person to do it. 

Ari opened one of the doors off the bedroom, revealing a small room that doubled as a walk-in closet and laundry room. You realized the last door, tucked into the back corner of the room, must’ve been a bathroom. 

You were distracted from exploring that last little bit of Ari’s house when he dumped the bag of laundry he’d brought in and began stripping out of his clothes.

It was the first time you truly got to look at Ari’s fully naked form—and he was glorious. Broad shoulders with a barrel chest covered in dark hair that you knew from experience was softer than his bristly beard. That hair trailed down over his soft tummy, which hid plenty of muscle that you’d felt beneath your fingertips. 

Ari shoved his jeans down, toeing out of his boots and yanking everything off. Heat flushed through your body at the sight of Ari’s cock. Even soft, it was impressive, especially with how it looked framed by two thick, hairy thighs. You wanted to climb your trucker like a tree and rub all over him like a cat in heat, but your feet were rooted to the spot, unable to do anything but look at your man with a mix of awe and desire.

“C’mere, baby,” Ari rumbled, a self-satisfied smirk on his lips as he crooked two fingers in your direction. His command spurred your feet into action; you scampered across the bedroom and into your trucker’s arms, his smirk deepening at your eagerness.

“I really like your house,” you murmured while he made quick work of divesting you of your clothes—his t-shirt and sweatpants. He seemed distracted by your body, with every inch and curve of you on display for him and his greedy hands.

“Yeah?” he asked faintly, his palms smoothing over your shoulders then down your sides, groping at your hips. His eyes flicked up to yours, that wary look back in his gaze. “Next thing you’re gonna tell me, you wanna stay here,” his throat worked as he swallowed. “With me.”

There was a vulnerability in Ari’s eyes you’d never seen before. Without questioning your instincts, you pushed yourself up on your tiptoes, wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pressed your soft body against his much sturdier one. You held his gaze as you spoke slowly, assuredly, making sure he heard you and what you were saying.

“I do want to stay here with you, Ari,” you said, allowing honest emotion to seep into your tone. “I want to go on the road with you, too—I want to be with you.” Your fingers curled in the soft hair at the nape of Ari’s neck while you stared deep into his beautiful eyes, willing him to believe you.

Despite your confession and your honesty, Ari’s gaze was still guarded, but his hands squeezed your hips so tightly, it felt like he was begging you to convince him. You knew he’d never beg with words, but you were certain you knew your trucker well enough to read his body. And he wanted you to continue, so you did.

“Look, Ari,” you said softly, holding his gaze and gently playing with his hair. “Before you, I didn’t have much—a drafty apartment, a job I hated and a boyfriend who hated me but was happy to use me.” 

At the mention of your ex, Ari’s gaze darkened. In spite of his obvious anger, your heart soared because you knew it meant something that Ari hated your ex so much. But you didn’t want to dwell on that asshole, so you quickly continued on.

“What I’m trying to say is, you saved me from a lonely existence,” you said, a sad smile playing at the edges of your lips. Ari’s hands held you tighter and you pressed closer, tilting your head back to hold his gaze. “So you’re stuck with me as long as you’ll have me.” You closed the distance between the two of you and pressed a soft kiss to Ari’s lips.

When you pulled away, emotion was roiling in Ari’s eyes so that they looked like a stormy ocean. His hold on you shifted, one arm banding around your lower back to hold you pinned to his body, his other hand coming up to circle the front of your throat, not squeezing but holding you firmly so he could keep staring into your eyes.

“You never should’ve gotten in my truck, sweetheart,” he rumbled, his voice more gravel than softness. “Because I’m never letting you go.” You could feel Ari’s cock hardening between your bodies, the stiff length trapped against your tummy. “And you’re never leaving me—not ever,” Ari growled, his fingers tightening around your throat like just the thought made him furious. “If you even try, I’ll break your fucking legs and chain you up so you can’t fucking leave.” 

You knew it shouldn’t turn you on to hear Ari threaten you like that, with violence and imprisonment, but your body heated nonetheless, wetness gathering between your thighs. A sinful smile curled the corners of your mouth and your eyes went heavy-lidded as you stared up at your trucker.

“Promise?” you asked in a teasing tone, barely suppressing a laugh.

Ari’s expression darkened, with desire rather than fury, and he squeezed his hand around your throat, choking you lightly as he started walking you backward into the bedroom. Your steps were light on the hardwood floor of his room, your heart buoyant in your chest. Ari’s voice was a deep growl as he spoke, his eyes alight with the promise of wicked sins.

“You’re just as unhinged and fuckin’ depraved as I am, aren’tcha, baby?”

You giggled as Ari threw you down on the bed, bouncing a little on the soft mattress, your hands reaching back to catch yourself and grabbing onto the fluffy comforter. Your tits bounced and caught your trucker’s eye. Ari stared at the movement of your body almost like he was entranced.

“Yes I am, daddy,” you said proudly throwing your shoulders back and sticking your chest out for Ari. If your trucker wanted to admire your body, you’d make it as easy for him as possible, without any ounce of shame in your heart.

Using his knees to spread your legs open, Ari climbed onto the bed, covering your body with his larger form, his hands sliding up your sides to your chest. His big palms and dextrous fingers groped and squeezed the soft flesh of your tits, making your breathing turn into desperate pants. 

“You’re a filthy fucking slut, baby,” he rumbled offhandedly as he lowered his mouth to your chest. Ari’s beard rasped against your soft skin, a rough contrast to the softness of his mouth latching onto your nipple. 

“You love it, daddy,” you said, your giggle dissolving into a gasp when Ari sucked hard on your tit. His tongue laved over the tight peak he’d created, and a low moan slipped from your lips, your fingers diving into Ari’s soft hair to hold him to your chest. 

Your trucker grunted—the closest thing you’d get to a response when he’d clearly moved on from the conversation—and suckled harder on your nipple, dragging his tongue over the sensitive point until you groaned like you were in pain. Your body squirmed beneath Ari’s broad frame, but he held you pinned to the bed with his weight and his hands. 

Ari seemed unconcerned with your responses, focused instead on taking long drags from your nipples with his mouth, holding you right where he wanted even when you were arching up off the bed at the pleasurable tugging sensation. You felt every pull of Ari’s mouth in your clit, the bundle of nerves buzzing between your thighs as your trucker lavished your tits with more attention than they’d seen the entire time you were on the road with him.

All you could do was wind your fingers in his hair, pulling and tugging on the soft strands while Ari sucked on your tits, his mouth and tongue working over your chest until you were gasping with pleasure. But, though he alternated between your tits, he kept up his rough treatment of your tight nipples and soft breasts, pinching your sensitive points and groping your aching flesh, until it bordered on pain. 

You were helpless beneath your trucker, an angry, pulsing throb of arousal growing between your thighs, even as the drag of Ari’s mouth began to hurt. He’d been nipping and biting and sucking on your tits long enough that pleasure gave way to overstimulated pain, but no matter how you begged, Ari didn’t stop his assault on your tits.

“Da-daddy, please,” you whimpered, your fingers tangled in Ari’s hair trying to pull him away from your chest. Pleasure and sharp pain tangled within your body, your hips squirming while your cunt ached to be filled. “Daddy, it hurts.” Even as you said the words, you knew they wouldn’t stop your trucker—they’d only spur him on, which made you flush hotter with arousal. 

Proving you right, your words seemed to encourage Ari. He took a long, hard drag of the nipple in his mouth, pinching the other between two unrelenting fingers, making you scream for him. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and spilled down your cheeks, your scream turning into soft little sobs as you cried through the pain and pleasure Ari was giving you.

“Good, cock whore,” he growled around a mouthful of your tit, his tongue rasping against your oversensitive peak until you were trembling beneath him. “Y’know daddy loves it when you cry for him.” When he finally let go of the nipple he’d pinched, you realized he only did it to slap your tit and make it bounce for him. The sight made Ari groan, and mumble a tortured, “Fuck,” before doing it again. 

You cried out when the stinging pain ricocheted in your body, tangling with the pleasure of his tongue lapping against your other nipple. Even through the pain, your clit throbbed and your hips bucked beneath Ari’s big body.

“Daddy!” you sobbed, your hips rising from the bed, seeking relief, but all you had to grind against was Ari’s soft tummy. Though it felt good at first, the hair covering his stomach quickly grew too drenched with your desire to offer much friction for your needy clit. 

Your trucker went back to sucking on your tits while you humped against him, your cunt slipping over Ari’s stomach as you both grew messier and messier from your arousal. It coated your thighs and his belly, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, not when he was still sucking your tits and nipping at your skin. It dragged you to the edge of a monumental release, but without enough stimulation to your clit or cunt, you never tipped over.

You didn’t know how long Ari spent torturing your tits, abusing your nipples until they ached with more pain than pleasure. You floated in a sea of overwhelming sensations, hovering on the edge of your release for an unfathomable amount of time. 

Until finally, Ari gave one last suckle to each of your nipples and raised up, his darkened blue eyes roving over your pleasure and pain drunk body. A self-satisfied smirk spread across his face.

“Had enough, sweetheart?” he asked in patronizing condescension. 

You were whimpering and sniffling against the tears that were still trickling down your cheeks when Ari leaned up to lick them from your face, his tongue rough against your sensitive skin. You mewled pitifully at the sensation and Ari groaned like the sound brought him physical pleasure. 

“I need to abuse your tits more often, baby,” Ari rumbled, his lips catching more tears as they spilled from your eyes. “Ya make the prettiest fucking sounds when I hurt you.” He nuzzled his nose against the side of your face, kissing your cheek lightly, a softness in the gesture that nearly took your breath away.

“Daddy,” you cried quietly, wrapping your arms around Ari’s shoulders and pulling him close. Your aching nipples brushed against the soft hair on his broad chest, but even that little bit of sensation had you sobbing, your swollen lips babbling, “Daddy, daddy.” 

“That’s it, kiddo, cry for daddy,” Ari rumbled, his mouth ghosting over your lips like he wanted to drink down the sound of your cries. He pressed his thick, stiff cock into your belly, making both of you groan with want. “Ya make me so fucking hard when you cry, cock slut.”

A whine tumbled past your lips and your body squirmed beneath Ari’s larger form, trying to line up his cock with your aching cunt. Unfortunately for you, your trucker wasn’t anywhere near done torturing you. He had too many other ideas to let you sink down on his cock just yet. 

Pressing one last kiss to the apple of your cheek and licking a salty tear from your skin, Ari rose above you and shifted down your body. He dragged his beard down the valley between your breasts, licking the undersides of your tits before sinking his teeth into the softness of your belly. It felt like he was devouring your body as he worked his way down to the place where you needed him most. 

Finally, he settled his big body between your spread thighs, throwing your legs over his shoulders before glancing up and giving you a wolfish grin.

“I’ve wanted to suck your tits and eat your cunt since the day I picked you up, sweetheart,” he said, his eyes dropping to your soaking pussy. Your heart raced in your chest and your thighs trembled under the weight of his gaze. “This cunt is mine, and I’m not coming up for air until I’ve had my fill—d’you hear me, cock whore?” His tone turned hard on those last few words as he flicked his eyes back up to yours, daring you to protest. “If you gotta cry, then cry, but I’m not stopping until I’m done, got it?”

For a moment, you were almost too stunned to respond, but then you managed to nod your head and murmur, “Yes, Ari.” Your voice was hoarse from how much you’d cried already and a little part of you worried for how much more you’d cry if he ate your cunt with the same selfish, greedy desire with which he’d sucked your tits. 

“That’s a good cock whore,” Ari rumbled, his eyes falling back to stare at your dripping slit. He spread your lower lips with his fingers, making your breath hitch as his breath ghosted over you sensitive skin. “All ya gotta do is lay there for me and take it.” 

His thumb teased your clit by flicking lightly against the tip and watching as your whole body twitched. His blue eyes caught yours again, his mouth twisting in a cruel smirk. 

“You can do that, can’t ya, sweetheart?” he asked in that deliciously condescending tone. “You’re so good at earning your keep on your back for me, aren’t ya, baby?”

Ari’s tone was mean and patronizing at the same time, and it only made your pussy flood with even more arousal, your cunt throbbing for attention. Your body squirmed and your lips parted to respond, but your words were swallowed by a moan when Ari dove forward, burying his face between your thighs and eating you out like a starved man.

“Daddy!” you cried, your fingers sliding into Ari’s hair and holding on tight. His mouth slipped against your swollen lower lips, his tongue thrusting deep into your hole while his nose bumped your clit and his beard rasped over your thighs. It was all too much after your trucker had deprived you for so long. 

Ari wrapped his lips around your aching, needy clit and sucked hard, dragging your release out of the depths of your soul. Your back arched up off the bed, your head thrown back, a scream tearing past your lips as you shattered apart. It was pleasure like you’d never experienced it, all the time Ari spent edging you compounding to overwhelm you with wave after wave of bliss. 

Aside from a pleasured groan from Ari as he drank down your arousal, though, your trucker didn’t acknowledge your release, just kept up his relentless assault on your cunt. There was no easing down for you, not when Ari seemed to redouble his efforts like he wanted you to scream for him until you had no voice left.

Like your tits, Ari ravished your cunt with his tongue and teeth, his mouth never ceasing to eat your pussy as he wrung orgasm after orgasm out of your body. Your mind frayed at the edges, your cries for him devolving from words into senseless sounds, your body growing slick with sweat at the effort it took to come so many times.

Pleasure gave way to overstimulated pain, which wobbled back incomprehensibly to pleasure again when Ari thrust two fingers deep into your cunt. Your grip in his hair weakened, your body growing more and more exhausted with each earth-shattering release your trucker insisted on pulling from you. Your chest heaved and you fought to keep your eyes open, black nothingness creeping in around the edges of your vision.

“Ari,” you whimpered, a shaky hand smacking at the arm he’d banded over your lower stomach to keep you pinned to the bed—not that he’d needed it for the last half hour he’d spent eating your pussy while you’d lay limply beneath him. “Ari, please.”

“Not done yet, baby,” he growled, glaring up your body at your pleading expression. “Daddy’s nowhere near done ruining this cunt, so don’t even think about begging me to stop.” He sucked hard on your puffy, swollen clit, making you tilt your head back, tears streaming down your cheeks as you cried out hoarsely.

Not long after, you succumbed to your body’s exhaustion and passed out, your mind drifting away into the darkness of relief. It was a much-needed break from all the sensations Ari forced upon your body, your mind blissfully blank.

You didn’t know how long you languished in the darkness, just like you had no idea how long Ari had spent torturing your tits or tormenting your cunt. 

Even in the darkness where you rested, you knew Ari was still using your body to his heart’s content. He’d been trapped in a truck with you for weeks without getting a chance to taste your cunt and he was ravenous. It didn’t matter that you weren’t conscious, he was going to keep on eating you out until he’d had his fill. 

Ari eventually dragged you ruthlessly from your respite and you woke to the feeling of something gushing out of you. You shrieked in surprise, your arms and legs flailing against the weight of your trucker’s body as humiliation flooded through your body. You thought you’d wet yourself. 

Looking down your body, you found Ari grinning and drinking down the juices squirting from your body. He had two fingers hooked deep in your cunt, rubbing against a spot inside you that lit up every nerve inside you. Belatedly, you realized what Ari had done—he’d made you squirt. For the first time ever.

The thought was fleeting, quickly consumed by the pleasure your trucker was coercing from your being with his hands and mouth. Your head fell back against the bed and you screamed your lungs out, Ari pounding away at your cunt with his fingers and wringing more essence from your body.

“Knew you’d be a squirter,” Ari crowed, lifting himself up on one hand so he could catch your eye. A smirk filled to the brim with arrogant male satisfaction curved his mouth as he stared down at you. “You were born for this, baby,” he went on, his eyes darkening with intensity. “Born to be my filthy little fucktoy—that’s why you were put on this earth, isn’t it, cock whore?”

Your heart was pounding in your chest, your breaths coming in fast little pants as you gasped for enough air to be able to form words. Ari’s fingers were slowly working in and out of your pussy, which was so overstimulated, you were nearly numb. Still, your inner walls were fluttering helplessly around him as he eked out the last dregs of pleasure from your release. 

“Y-yours,” was the only word to slip past your lips, your tongue tripping over the single syllable. It was an answer to his question, but it was also a vow of loyalty. The vulnerability in the whispered word was the first hint at the depth of your feelings for the man above you. 

Ari’s eyes flared, something dark and depraved that had been buried deep inside your trucker coming to the surface. His ring finger joined the two others already pumping deep into your pussy and he looked a little wild as a dirty grin spread across his face. 

“You’re mine and you’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you, sweetheart?” he asked, an undertone of ferocity in his tone. “You’d even let me see if I can fit my whole fist in this tight cunt of yours, huh, baby?” 

Your eyes flew wide as your heart raced faster, your mouth parting to voice your uncertainty, but your protest died on your lips when Ari added a fourth finger to your cunt. The feeling of him stretching your aching hole had intense, heated pleasure washing through your body. There was a slight sting of pain, but it only made the pleasure stand out in sharper relief and you gasped for air. 

It took a long moment for you to gather your thoughts from where they’d been scattered across Ari’s bedspread, your fingers digging into the soft cotton of the blanket to keep yourself grounded. You licked your lips and focused your gaze on your trucker. 

You were messy from your innumerable releases, your body aching and exhausted from everything Ari had done to you, but you still felt desperately empty. You wanted him inside you, you wanted him to live out his wicked fantasy with you—him wanting it made you want to give it to him. You never would’ve expected the idea would turn you on, but in that moment, the thought of Ari fucking you with his fist made you nearly feral with desire.

Licking your dry lips, you held Ari’s gaze as you finally nodded and answered his question. 

“Do it,” you whispered, your voice low and husky from all the crying and screaming you’d done. “See if it can fit—see if you can ruin my tight pussy with your fist, daddy.” 

It was Ari’s turn for his eyes to widen, though only for the briefest of seconds. Then they were darkening, his pupils blowing wide as you proved, yet again, that you were his perfect, perverted match. His chuckle was dark and sinful, the sound as much assurance as any words that he planned to defile you and keep you as his corrupted little fucktoy for a very long time. 

“That’s my good girl,” he rumbled, dropping his focus down to where his four fingers were still pumping lazily in and out of your hole. He started fucking you harder, not speeding up, but working your pussy more intentionally, spreading his fingers and forcing you to stretch around them. “Such a shameless little cock slut—so desperate to be filled you’ll even let me fill you with my fist.”

The sounds of your sopping pussy being fucked by his fingers were obscene, the loud squelching made possible by how soaking wet you’d gotten when Ari made you squirt for him. You were too far gone to feel any ounce of embarrassment—it was too fucking filthy, the noises of your cunt getting fucked filling your ears and making you flood even more around Ari’s fingers. 

“That’s it, baby, I can feel your cunt gushing for me,” Ari rumbled, his gaze focused on where his fingers were plunging inside you. He tucked his thumb into his hand and added it to the rest as he worked you pussy open. “Can’t wait to see your pretty little cunt stretched around my fist, fucktoy—christ.” He bit off his words in a curse as your hole stretched for him, practically sucking on his hand and begging him to plunge further inside.

Meanwhile, all you could do was thrash your head from side to side, your fingers gripping the blanket so tightly you were in danger of losing feeling in them. Your legs were splayed wide open around Ari’s broad body, your thighs trembling, your tits bouncing with every determined thrust of his fingers.

“Da-ddy,” you moaned brokenly, your hips bearing down on his hand, nearly taking all of it inside you. When he didn’t push inside, you let out a sob, tears trickling down your temples. You felt so empty, all you could think about was how good it’d feel to be full of Ari’s big, thick fist. “Need it, daddy, need your fist—please,” you whined in a hoarse, desperate whimper.

“Fuck yeah, cock whore, beg for my fucking fist,” Ari growled, shoving his hand harder against the opening of your cunt, pounding against the entrance with wicked determination. “Gonna train your hole to take it so I can bury my cock in your tight little ass and feel you fucking choke my dick with my fist in your cunt—how’s that sound, baby?” 

At that moment, Ari’s big fist finally pushed past the last of your pussy’s resistance, shoving his thick hand into your fluttering cunt and making you scream. It was a broken, raspy cry, your throat too overused to manage anything more. Your mind blanked as your body processed the feeling of overwhelming fullness, the stinging pain of the stretch and, as a pleasurable heat radiated through your limbs, you decided you liked it. You really liked it.

An indecent moan tumbled from your lips, and it took a moment to realize that the new pulses of pleasure coming from your cunt were the result of Ari rubbing your clit with his thumb in lazy little circles. With a great amount of effort, you wrenched your eyelids open, finding your trucker kneeling between your spread legs, his eyes alight with a depraved desire as he watched your face. 

When he saw you open your eyes, he smirked and rumbled, “There’s my filthy whore.” 

You opened your mouth to respond, but all that came out was a groan of pleasure as Ari began moving his hand inside you, fucking you slowly with his fist, making you feel every inch of him in your body. 

“You really are a gross, disgusting little thing, aren’t you baby?” Ari asked, his tone almost conversational, if not for the gruffness that belied his own arousal. Without pausing to let you even try to respond, he went on. “You begged a filthy trucker like me to fist your tight little cunt and now you’re getting off on it—you’re gonna come from letting me abuse your sweet little hole, huh?” 

“Yuh huh, uh huh,” was all you could manage in response, your mind too overwhelmed with pleasure to form real words. Other parts of your body still worked, though, your hips rocking against Ari’s fist, fucking yourself on his hand while he shoved in and out of your cunt.

Your mindlessness only seemed to amuse Ari, who laughed at your braindead sounds as he leaned down over you so you were staring up into his handsome face. He was the only thing you could see, your vision narrowed to the glint in his blue eyes, the curve of his smirking mouth, and you had the wild thought that your trucker wasn’t just your king, but your god.

Something shifted in Ari’s gaze, like he was flinching away from the devotion in your expression. But your trucker wasn’t one to show weakness, and when he did, it made him angry. Suddenly, his face twisted with rage and he started fucking you harder, the thrusting of his fist in your cunt nearly punishing. 

“You deserve this, baby,” he growled. “You got in my truck and you stayed in my truck, then you came home with me,” he seethed like he was outraged at you for what you’d done. His whole expression darkened with fury as he pounded into your cunt with his fist. “You asked for this, so you fucking deserve to be used like a gross little fucktoy by a dirty trucker like me.” 

Ari’s thumb rubbed your puffy, abused clit, fucking you with his fist buried in your cunt, and your entire world splintered apart. Your mouth opened wide in a silent scream as your entire body went taut, your pussy clenching down so hard on Ari’s hand that he couldn’t move it anymore—but his thumb never stopped rubbing your clit. The most intense orgasm of your life dragged on and on, waves of pleasure crashing through your body until your vision whited out entirely.

It was with a fierce determination that you clawed your way back to awareness, the sight of Ari’s face limned in golden light the first thing you saw. 

“Thank you, god,” you mumbled, barely knowing what you were saying or why. All you knew was that you enjoyed the deep rumble of Ari’s low laughter, his mood shifting as swiftly as the wind.

“You did well, baby,” Ari murmured, kissing your swollen and clumsy lips. It was like his fury had been swept away by the ocean of your pleasure, and you were left reeling a little. However, you were quickly distracted by the feeling of him carefully pulling his hand from your pussy.

You groaned into his mouth at the emptiness he left behind, and he swallowed the sound down, still laughing lightly at your mindlessness. But Ari’s sweetness didn’t last long, his own desire apparent in the way he deepened the kiss, plunging his tongue into your mouth and taking control.

“Now it’s my turn,” he muttered darkly when he pulled away. Your sluggish mind didn’t know what to make of his words until he was rolling you over onto your stomach. You flopped down on a stretch of clean, dry bedspread and sank into it, inhaling the barest hint of Ari’s musky scent, relaxing even more on instinct.

You felt Ari’s wet knuckles graze your ass and then he was spreading you open, the broad tip of his cock pushing against your tight rosebud. You could feel he was slick and imagined he’d used the fist that had been inside you to coat himself in your juices. Slowly, he sank into your body, getting no resistance from your tightest hole because you were too exhausted to clench up. 

“That’s it, filthy slut, take daddy’s cock like a perfect little fucktoy,” he grunted as he plunged inside. When he was buried to the root, he grunted his pleasure. Already you could feel his length twitching, the many hours of edging himself catching up to Ari. “Just lay there and let daddy use you—it’s the least ya can do for me, sweetheart, for how many times I made you come.”

You huffed a tired laugh at that, knowing Ari made you come so many times for his amusement more than your own. Still, you couldn’t help but notice that his voice didn’t sound as mean and ruthless as it normally did. You weren’t sure if it was your own exhaustion or if he was actually softening a little bit, but you were too tired to ruminate on it, instead focusing on how good it felt for Ari to fuck your ass. 

It wasn’t long before your trucker was groaning in your ear and pounding into your ass, the sound of his skin smacking against your own filling the room. 

You were wrung out, exhausted and had come more times than you could count, but Ari forced one last release from you, his fingers digging beneath your body and rubbing your abused clit until you were sobbing and shuddering through one final release, your clenching ass milking every last drop of come from your trucker’s balls as he spilled inside you.

Then, you let the darkness overtake you again, falling willingly into its restful embrace knowing you were safe at home with your trucker.

When you came to, you were surrounded by warmth, the familiar scent of Ari enveloping you. His bare chest was pressed to your back, his arms circling your body and holding you close. For once, you were sitting in his lap and his cock wasn’t inside you.

Drowsily, you blinked your eyes open, finding you and Ari were submerged in a large bathtub in the bathroom you hadn’t seen yet. The warm, golden light of sunset was filling the room and you took in your surroundings. Like the rest of the house, the bathroom wasn’t modern, though you couldn’t say how old it was. Still, it was neat and much cleaner than any of the bathrooms you’d used while on the road. 

Stretching your limbs languidly, you delighted in the slight soreness in your body, feeling like you’d been put through an intense workout, though nothing you couldn’t handle. Your skin felt lightly chafed, like Ari had scrubbed you down in the perfectly heated water—and based on the pruning of your fingers, you’d been in the bath long enough for him to have cleaned you both. 

Relaxing back into Ari’s arms, you hummed softly with contentment and craned your neck against his shoulder to press a kiss to the underside of his beard, just along the freshly trimmed edge. 

“Did you mean it?” your trucker asked in gruff, gravelly voice, like he was dredging the words up from the very depths of his dark heart.

You made a questioning sound, burying your face in his beard and nuzzling your mean and no-longer-filthy trucker. It surprised you how much you missed the muskiness of his scent when he’d been on the road and unable to bathe as much. You pushed that thought aside and refocused on Ari.

“When you said you wanted to stay,” he clarified, “Did you mean it?” 

“I did,” you answered simply, curling up and turning your body so you could lay your cheek against Ari’s chest. His heartbeat sounded a little unsteady in his ribcage, faster than usual. You placed your palm over his sternum, the gesture meant to be comforting, as you asked, “Do you think you’ll ever believe it?”

A frustrated sound rumbled deep in Ari’s chest and his arms tightened around you. “I’m trying,” he rasped, the sound desperate, almost pleading. He cleared his throat before repeating himself in a calmer tone, “I’m trying.”

Sitting up, you cupped Ari’s face in both your hands, your fingers scratching lightly through the beard along his jaw in the way you knew he liked. With a faint smile curling your lips, you stared into your trucker’s eyes, willing him to hear the words you were about to say. 

“You’re my king, Ari,” you said in a quiet, but determined tone. “I live to serve you—and I’m happy to do so.” 

Ari’s gaze roved over your expression for a long moment before his mouth curved into an arrogant smirk.

“Does that mean you’ll do anything I want, baby?” he asked, a familiar mocking seeping into his tone. “You gonna stay with me and let me do all the gross, disgusting things I want to your body?” His voice was almost warm, and you couldn’t help the happiness that bloomed in your heart.

An impish smile spread across your face and it was with great effort that you held back a giggle. 

“Yes, daddy,” you said in the most serious tone you could manage, which wasn’t very serious at all with your mouth widening into a happy grin.

Ari pulled you in close with his arms around your waist and he captured your mouth in a searing kiss. It was slow and heated, quickly burning brighter and faster. His tongue slipped past your lips, staking a claim on your body as well as your heart and soul. 

You knew it would take Ari time to truly believe you weren’t going anywhere, but you also knew you were going to enjoy every moment of proving to him that you wanted to stay with him. And while you were at his house, you planned to do everything in your power to show your trucker that you wanted to be a part of his life—that you were eager to build a life together with him. 

You were determined to make his home your home, and be a safe harbor for his heart, just like he was for yours.

In the week that followed your first day at home with Ari, you learned quite a lot about your trucker that you never would have on the road. 

For instance, you were shocked to discover that Ari cooked—and he cooked well. Which was good because you were hopeless in the kitchen, though that didn’t stop him from putting you to work.

While he chopped veggies and seared steaks, you kept Ari company. That meant you did whatever Ari wanted you to do to amuse him. Sometimes he sat you on the counter and fed you bites of what he was making, asking your opinion on it, which you gave honestly.

More often than not, though, Ari liked putting you on your knees on the unforgiving linoleum of his kitchen. He’d make you degrade yourself by humping against his leg, your mouth tasked with keeping his cock warm while he cooked. 

Ari would chuckle at the desperate little whines that would slip from your lips when he stepped away to grab something from the fridge. He’d move back to you slowly, taking his time before sliding his cock back inside your mouth, filling you up while his leg pressed against your messy cunt. 

“That’s a good cock whore,” he’d coo condescendingly, patting your head before going back to what he was doing. 

You always knew when dinner was almost ready because Ari would fuck your mouth, shoving his cock deep into your throat despite the way you choked and gagged on his hard length. Your head would bang against the cabinets at your back until Ari grabbed your head with both hands, holding you still while you skull-fucked you until he emptied his balls into your mouth.

When he was done, he’d wrap a hand around your throat and drag you up from the floor, a smug, self-satisfied smirk on his lips. You’d take care of his cock for him, gently putting it back in his pants and zipping him up while he stared deep into your eyes, which would be hazy with unslaked need. 

“Did you enjoy your appetizer, kiddo?” he’d ask meanly, pressing two fingers into your mouth and onto your tongue, making sure you swallowed every drop of his come. 

“Yes, daddy,” you’d mumble around his fingers, the corners of your mouth curling in a sweet smile. 

It’d always make Ari chuckle, his hands releasing you before swatting your ass lightly and sending you to sit at the table while he finished making dinner. 

Everything Ari cooked was delicious, and you ate it eagerly. The nights when you sat down to dinner with the taste of his come on your tongue were your favorite. Somehow, eating his food with his come in your belly made it all the more satisfying.

A few days after Ari brought you home, he took you shopping for new clothes to replace the wardrobe you’d left behind when he took you. It was a relief to get some clothes of your own, but since Ari had taken your phone and wallet that first night and never returned them, he was the one paying. And since he was paying, he insisted he should have final say over everything you bought. 

You weren’t all that surprised to learn that Ari wanted to put you in the sluttiest outfits he could find. He picked out short skirts that barely covered your ass, thin tops that left little about your tits to the imagination, and tight, tiny dresses that made you look like you worked at a strip club. 

The clothes Ari liked were a far cry from what you typically wore, but you found you didn’t mind them as much as you would’ve expected. It helped that Ari’s eyes flared with arousal whenever you tried on one of the slutty dresses he’d picked out. 

While you put on a fashion show in the changing room, he had to adjust himself every time you came out in a new outfit, and yet you could still see his thick bulge pressing against his zipper. It gave you a rush of pride and power, and it made you love everything he’d picked out for you. 

Still, you found your eyes drifting to some pretty floral dresses. They weren’t anything like the slutty clothes Ari had gravitated to, but you couldn’t stop yourself from wanting something soft and sweet to wear sometimes. 

If Ari saw you looking at the dresses, you didn’t know it. 

A few hours into your shopping trip, you noticed Ari hadn’t bought you any bras or underwear and when you asked your trucker about it, he told you he didn’t want you wearing them. They’d just get in his way. 

You were looking at some sexy lingerie, and you held it up, turning to your trucker and asking, “Wouldn’t you like to see me in a pretty, lacy little matching set, all dolled up just for you, daddy?” A teasing smile curved your lips, but your trucker didn’t seem swayed.

“I like seeing you in my shirts or nothing at all,” Ari said, nothing but genuine honesty in his voice as his eyes raked down your body. You knew from the heat of his gaze that he was picturing you dressed how he’d said—wearing one of his t-shirts or flannels, or wearing nothing at all. 

Your heart stuttered in your chest before it began galloping, his words, which were almost nice, sinking in and making you desperate to show him how much you appreciated them. Tossing the lingerie aside, you dragged Ari into the dressing room and pushed him down onto the bench in one of the stalls. 

While you bounced on his cock, he wrapped a hand around your throat, choking you hard and cutting off your air to keep you quiet enough not to get caught. He came with a quiet groan while you trembled through your own release, your cunt clenching his cock hard and eagerly taking all of his come. 

When you were both sated, you kissed Ari hard, relishing the way his beard scraped against your cheeks. He held you pinned to his chest, kissing you back just as hard. 

You stumbled out of the dressing room with beard burn on your cheeks and a dazed smile on your face, but you couldn’t care less if everyone in the store knew what you and your trucker had done. It had felt too good to defile the dressing room and thank him for his compliment.

It wasn’t until you got home and were putting away all the clothing Ari had purchased that you found some of the pretty floral dresses you’d eyed amid the haul. A smile stretched across your face and you quickly finished your task before you went looking for Ari to show him again how much you appreciated everything he did and said to take care of you and give you what you wanted.

You were only a little surprised to learn that Ari liked waking you up with his mouth on your pussy almost as much as he liked waking you up by pumping you full of come. He’d emptied himself into you most mornings while you were on the road, but he had nowhere to be while you were at home, and he enjoyed eating you out until you woke to the feeling of coming apart on his tongue.

Although Ari typically woke before you, there were a few rare occasions when you were up before him. You took full advantage, sneaking down his broad, hairy body before taking his soft cock into your mouth. You loved playing with him while he was sleeping, your mean trucker peaceful for a short time. 

You’d gently lick and kiss and suckle on Ari’s cock, coaxing him to harden in your warm, wet mouth. You loved the feeling of him growing inside you, turning you on and making you wet as you worked his cock. 

Those mornings were your only opportunity to really take your time worshipping your trucker’s cock the way you felt Ari deserved. When he was awake, he always needed to take control, setting the pace of how you sucked his cock, how he fucked you, all of it. 

But when Ari was sleeping, you had all the power. And you chose to use it to worship at the altar of Ari’s cock and balls, lavishing them with your tongue and lips, getting them nice and wet and messy, covered in your drool mixing with his precum. You spent a long, long time suckling his sac gently in your mouth, feeling the weight of his balls on your tongue, before tracing every vein of his shaft until you’d committed it to memory.

You’d do everything you could to make sure Ari didn’t wake up, so you could play with his cock as long as you wanted. You knew that once he woke, he’d take over, and while you loved the way he dominated every bit of your body, you enjoyed worshipping him, too.

What you didn’t know was that Ari almost always woke long before he made it known to you. He’d lay there, pretending he was still asleep, and let you do whatever you wanted to his cock. It surprised him each time, not just that you were still in his bed, but that you were willingly sucking his cock. And not just sucking it, but adoring it. 

For you, he could push down his need to dominate, at least for a little while. 

Almost a week into being at Ari’s, you were surprised at how difficult it was to ask him for something you’d been thinking about since those first few nights in his rig. It took you some time, a few days of settling into a routine at Ari’s house, but one night after your trucker had fucked you six ways from Sunday, you gathered your courage to ask. 

“Daddy, can I have a collar?” 

As soon as the question slipped past your lips, you wished you could gather the words back up and hide them under your tongue. Silence hung between you and your trucker for a moment, and you hoped he’d already fallen asleep so he wouldn’t hear the thread of aching want in your tone.

Sure, Ari had shown you on a few occasions that he was willing to give you what you wanted—the floral dresses and the fact that he kept your favorite candy stocked in his house were proof enough. But you’d never explicitly asked him for anything. And you weren’t sure how he’d respond to a direct request. 

“A collar?” Ari mumbled, stirring beneath you like he was dragging himself away from the edge of sleep. 

He was laying on his back, his arm banded around your waist to hold your body sprawled across his broad chest. Your face was half smushed into his beefy pecs, your fingertips stroking idly through the dark hair that was slightly damp with sweat from the vigorous ways he’d fucked you. 

Your fingertips stilled when you heard him speak, and you held your breath, waiting for his reaction.

“What d’ya want a collar for, kiddo?” he asked. His big arms dragged your body up his chest until your cheek was pressed to his mouth. He brushed a sleepy kiss to your skin, making you sigh happily. 

His mouth worked against your cheek and the rasp of his beard drew a breathy giggle from your lips. It was so rare for Ari to be so sweet and playful, but if you sank into it, you’d never be able to answer his question. So you turned your face, burying it in Ari’s neck as you considered how to respond. Finally, you settled on the truth.

“I liked when you used your belt as a collar on me,” you murmured, referencing that first night in his rig. Your voice was quieter than a whisper, but since your mouth was so close to his ear, you knew Ari could hear you. “I liked when you tied me to you or tied me up inside the truck, and I…” You paused collecting your thoughts. “I want that again.”

Ari’s hands skimmed down the sides of your body and back up while he hummed a sound of acknowledgment. His thumbs brushed the edges of your nipples and you sucked in a sharp breath, but he didn’t seem to notice or care about the way his hands were warming your body with renewed desire. 

“Let me get this straight,” he started, his voice roughened with almost-sleep and making him sound more menacing. That only served to stoke a new heat to life between your thighs. “You want to stay with me, but you want me to tie you up like I think you’re gonna run from me?” he rumbled, confusion clear in his voice. “I thought you wanted me to trust that you wanted to stay, baby?”

You turned your trucker’s words over in your mind trying to figure out where you’d gone wrong in your explanation. Lifting your head from where it had been buried in Ari’s neck, you let your gaze take in his expression, which was a little guarded and plenty confused. You shook your head slowly, your eyes holding his gaze.

“I want to wear something that marks me as yours, Ari,” you explained, choosing your words carefully, trying to express the desire buried deep in your heart. “I want to be bound to you forever, and I want something that reminds both of us of that bond.”

Ari tilted his head on the pillow where he lay, staring at you for a second before a grin tugged up the corners of his mouth, his blue eyes sparkling with playfulness. “Y’know, baby,” he drawled, his grin deepening into an almost mocking expression. “I think most girls would be askin’ for a ring and a wedding, not a collar.”

For a long moment, you were stunned by Ari’s words. You hadn’t even made the connection between your desire and the similarities to getting married. You hardly dared to imagine a day when your trucker would put a ring on your finger, so it was an immense surprise that he’d be the first to bring it up.

Overwhelmed with emotion, you dropped your head to his neck, burying your face in his beard. Before you could think better of it, you sank your teeth into Ari’s beard until they hit skin, biting down on your trucker until a growl rumbled in his chest. The vibrations and his chest hair teased your nipples into tight peaks, the heat between your thighs growing more insistent.

“You can give me a ring later, daddy,” you murmured in a husky voice when you finally pulled away from Ari’s beard. “Maybe in a couple years.” Your words were light and breathy as you laughed into the underside of his jaw. 

Ari flipped you over with a growl, his hips slotting perfectly between your thighs, his hard cock sliding between the swollen and drenched folds of your cunt. “What the fuck have you done to me, woman?” he seethed, lining the head of his cock up with your tight hole and sliding inside without needing to reach down to guide it in. 

His words were lost to the haze of your mind, pleasure overwhelming your body as he split you open on his big cock. All you could manage was to arch your spine and press down on his hard length, taking him deeper into the center of your being. 

“Never thought about marriage or rings before,” he fumed, sounding like he was talking to himself. He might as well have been since the way he fucked you, roughly driving your body into the mattress, made it impossible for you to respond. “But a few weeks with you and I wanna make you mine in every fucking way possible.”

Each of Ari’s words were punctuated by a short, brutal thrust, his hips snapping into yours to bury his cock as deep in your cunt as possible. He fucked you like he was furious with you, and you loved it. You clung to his biceps as he pounded into you, your nails digging into his skin in a way that only made him fuck you harder, until tears sprang to your eyes at the delicious combination of pain and pleasure.

“Fine, baby, I’ll get you a collar,” Ari rumbled, ducking down to lick up the tears that splashed onto your cheeks, a rumbling groan of pleasure reverberating in his beefy chest. “I’ll get you a tag with my name on it.” His lips replaced his tongue as your trucker brushed sweet kisses to the apples of your cheeks while you cried harder, his cock pummeling your cunt like he wanted to imprint himself in your body. “But one day I’m gonna put a ring on your fucking finger and you’re gonna take my last name—and you’ll be all fucking mine.”

Ari wrapped one of his big hands around your throat and you let out a helpless moan, staring up at your trucker while he hovered above you. There was a wild look in his eye that matched the feral way he fucked you like a beast. Your heart thumped in your chest, devotion and something you weren’t yet ready to name thrumming through your body. 

A smile curled the edges of your mouth and Ari’s eyes darkened.

“Ya gonna let me do all that, baby?” Ari hissed over the sound of his thighs slapping against yours. He tried to mask his emotions in fury, but you knew your trucker well enough to see the incredulity hidden beneath. The bed under you creaked, but neither of you paid it any mind. “Ya want daddy to claim you in every way he can think of, kiddo?”

“Yes, daddy,” you cried on a gasp, not needing to think your answer through before voicing it. In fact, you had some ideas of your own for how he could claim you and they slipped past your lips, coming out as a choked whine. “Tattoo your name over my heart—mark me, Ari, claim me forever.”

“Oh fuck,” Ari grunted, his cock twitching inside you. Your trucker clearly liked the idea and you couldn’t help the satisfied smirk that pulled on your lips. His eyes blazed when he saw the expression. “You’re a gross, filthy little fucktoy, ya know that, baby?” he growled seconds before capturing your lips in a fierce kiss. 

Ari rutted into you, squeezing your throat in his hand and licking away your tears in between claiming your mouth with his own. It wasn’t long before he came, groaning as he spilled his come deep in your cunt. 

Heat filled you as your own pleasure crested, and in the split second before you followed him over the edge, you had the wild thought that one day you wanted him to plant his seed in womb until it takes. You wanted him to knock you up until you were swelling with his child. You wanted him to claim you in the most primal and ancient way possible.

But that was a conversation for a long time in the future. Your IUD was still very much in place, and keeping you from getting pregnant. You knew that was for the best.

Still, in that moment, the thought of Ari knocking you up turned you on so much that it sent you careening into an ocean of pleasure, wave after wave of bliss washing over you. A choked cry fled your lips as you came, your body clenching tight and milking every drop of your trucker’s come into the depths of your cunt.

When your pleasure had ebbed, Ari collapsed on top of you, rolling onto his side and gathering you up against his chest. He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, the gesture sweet enough that you knew it was an answer to your initial question. Happily, you snuggled into his warm chest and the two of you fell asleep together. 

The next morning, you sat in Ari’s lap in the recliner chair in his living room and the two of you picked out a few collars together from some online stores. 

One was a thick black leather collar, with a metal loop that Ari could attach a leash to, which he also added to his cart. He’d be able to tie your collar to his belt loop, like he’d done those first few nights in his rig, or wrap a chain around his bed frame and tie you to it while you were at his house. 

Another collar was a slip chain that Ari could pull to choke you. That one excited both of you, especially since it looked like a normal necklace, which meant you could wear it out in public. The thought that Ari could choke you whenever and wherever he wanted turned both of you on.

The last collar was a delicate chain necklace with a heart pendant attached. The sweet heart-shaped tag would be engraved with ‘Baby’ on the front, while the back would have Ari’s full name and phone number. In case you got lost, he said with a chuckle. The best part of that one was it had a locking mechanism in the back, so only Ari would be able to put it on and take it off. 

Once the orders were placed for your new collars, you slid out of Ari’s lap and down to the floor. Kneeling at his feet between his thighs, you lowered your face to the bulge in his pants, intent on showing your trucker how much you appreciated him for giving you what you wanted. 

As time went on, the bungalow by the beach started to feel properly like home. It helped that your trucker had fucked you on every surface of his house, but it was the small things that really made you feel like you belonged—your clothes hanging in his closet, your favorite foods in his kitchen, the swing waiting to be hung up on the front porch. 

It had been about a month since Ari had first picked you up and your old life never felt further away. You were content with letting it slip away into your past, focusing instead on building your new life with your trucker. But fate was a fickle thing, and it seemed your old life wasn’t so willing to let you go.

One evening, a week or so after Ari first brought you home, you were sitting in his lap in his recliner, his cock buried in your ass while a baseball game played on the massive TV in the living room. Your back was to Ari’s chest, a blanket pulled over your front since it was a cold spring night. He played idly with your pussy, teasing your folds with light touches while you dozed. 

However, you jolted awake when your name came from the TV. Wrenching your eyes open, you were met with the sight of a news anchor reporting a story of a missing girl with your picture posted on the screen next to their head. 

Ari must’ve roused too, because his arms wrapped tightly around your front, holding you pinned to his lap. Together, you watched the news report in rapt silence.

“Police have arrested the missing girl’s boyfriend on suspicion of murder,” the anchor reported, the image of your face dissolving into footage of your ex being taken into custody. His face was twisted with rage and, though there was no sound, you could read his lips protesting his innocence.

“As a reminder, she was last seen along highway 78, though police reports indicate her boyfriend was the last to see her there when he forced her out of his vehicle.” The anchor paused for a moment before continuing, the picture on the screen shifting back to them at their desk. A phone number appeared along the bottom of the screen. “If anyone has any information, or has seen the missing girl, please call the number on screen.”

Your photo filled the screen, and you took a moment to look at yourself. The image had been pulled from one of your social media profiles, it was a selfie you’d taken and sent to your ex. When he hadn’t replied, you’d posted it online hoping for the attention you’d craved. Though you were smiling in the picture, there was a sadness in your eyes that you realized you hadn’t felt in a few weeks. 

Not since Ari picked you up and kept you. 

Gratefulness filled your chest, making your heart feel like it was floating. You sank back into Ari’s body, so consumed with how much happier you were in your new life that you hadn’t noticed he’d paused the live report on the shot of your face and the tip line number. You were brought back to the present by your trucker’s voice in your ear.

“Everyone thinks you’re dead,” he mumbled, like he was talking to himself. There was something in his voice that you didn’t recognize.

Shifting your head on his shoulder, you turned and craned your neck so you could see Ari’s expression. He looked like he was deep in thought, something like glee hidden beneath the contemplation etched into the lines of his face.

Your trucker’s words finally made the rest of the news report sink in. 

Not only did everyone think you were dead, but your ex had been arrested on suspicion of murder—your murder. The police thought he’d killed you. It seemed like everyone thought he’d killed you. 

Guilt roiled in your stomach at the thought of your ex sitting in jail while you were sitting on Ari’s lap. You were alive and well and doing better than you ever had while you’d been with your ex. And you tended to believe that the best revenge was living well, so you felt like you knew what you had to do.

“We should probably tell someone I’m not dead,” you said, threading your fingers through Ari’s beard and pulling his face to look at you. His eyes snapped into focus and he stared down into your face. You could tell the moment he realized you felt guilty, a devious smirk curving his lips.

“Now, why would we do that?” he asked in an arrogant drawl. 

Your heart stuttered in your chest, your mouth turning down at the corners into a frown as you stared at your trucker in confusion. “Because I’m not?” you said, though the inflection of your tone made the statement sound more like a question. You weren’t sure what Ari was getting at, but it made you nervous.

Ari’s hand cupped your cheek, his thumb stroking over your skin in a way that was clearly meant to soothe you, but that evil smile on his face only made you more uncertain. 

“Your little shit of an ex could have killed you,” Ari growled, the reality of his words wiping the smirk from his face. His expression twisted into one of fury as he continued to speak. “You could’ve frozen to death or been picked up by someone much, much worse than me.” His arm around your waist tightened, holding you so firmly it nearly hurt. “He deserves to fucking rot in prison for the danger he put you in.”

The vehemence of Ari’s tone made it clear he was serious. He truly believed your ex was getting what he deserved because even if he didn’t kill you, he could have with his actions. And that was a criminal offense in Ari’s eyes.

It was fucked up, but your heart surged with affection for your trucker. You pulled him down for a kiss using your grip on his beard, showing him with your mouth just how much you liked his way of showing he cared. It was a little awkward, with the way your neck was craned, but you didn’t care. 

When you pulled away, you were breathing harshly and desperate to go back to what you and Ari had been doing before the news report came on the TV. However, there was a niggling thought in your brain and you couldn’t help asking the question that seemed most obvious to you. 

“Won’t they just let him go when someone figures out I’m not dead?”

Another devious smirk slashed across Ari’s face, his hand wrapping around the front of your throat so he could ensure you stayed looking at him. Instead of answering your question, he asked one of his own. 

“You said you wanted to stay with me, you said you wanted to be mind forever—did you mean it, baby?” 

Unlike that first night when Ari had asked you something similar, he no longer sounded uncertain or insecure. Instead, Ari’s question sounded more like he was checking in with you, like he finally trusted you and was simply making sure nothing had changed. Hope spread warmly through your body and you smiled at your trucker. 

“Yes, Ari,” you said easily, genuine honesty plain in your voice. “I meant it.”

Ari’s smirk bloomed into a wide grin, greedy delight and something like authentic happiness sparkling in his eyes. He kissed you, quick and fierce, like he was rewarding your honesty and thanking you for it at the same time. 

When he pulled away, he kept your neck craned so he could watch your face, while his other hand drifted down to settle between your thighs. Beneath you, he rocked his hips, fucking into your ass hard enough to make you gasp.

“I have some friends that can help us, baby,” Ari said, his fingers diving into your cunt and teasing you open. They felt so thick inside you, your hole feeling smaller with his big cock buried in your ass. “They’ll help me give you what you want, but it’ll come at a price.”

Words escaped you, leaving you to moan mindlessly. You stared into Ari’s eyes, mesmerized by the beauty of your trucker while he fucked you like his own personal fucktoy. All you could do was sit on his lap and take his cock and his fingers, and you did so gladly. He was your king and you’d do anything he said.

“You willing to do anything I tell ya, baby?” he asked, his mouth curving into another depraved smirk. Your trucker began grinding the heel of his palm against your clit while he fucked you with his fingers and cock. “Even if it means I let my friends have free use of your holes for a whole night?” 

A shiver of desire raced down your spine and your whole body clenched tight at the delicious thought of Ari using your body to pay his friends. He grunted, fucking you harder and wringing a loud, filthy moan from your mouth. He cut off the sound by squeezing your throat, grinning at you as you spluttered and clenched around his fingers and cock.

When he eased up enough to finally let you answer his questions, you nodded, words falling from your lips so fast they almost stumbled over each other.

“I’ll do anything for you, daddy,” you said on a gasp as you pulled in some much-needed air. Your mind was swimming in a haze of pleasure, both from his words and from the way he perfectly worked your body. “I’ll do anything to stay with you, Ari, I promise.” 

Your eyes slid closed, your words dissolving into another moan as Ari’s hand slapped against your clit while he fucked your cunt with his fingers. Your ass was bouncing on his cock and it was too much, it felt too good. But his fingers squeezing the sides of your neck had you wrenching your eyes open, finding Ari’s blue eyes flaring with emotion.

You saw it in Ari’s gaze. Your trucker finally—finally—believed you. He believed you wanted to stay with him, and that you would do anything for him. From the look in his eye and the ruthless way he fucked you with intent, Ari was going to make you keep all your promises to him.

You couldn’t wait. Because it meant you were staying with your trucker. Forever.

trucker king masterlist

I need outdoor, maybe even hot tub sex with lumberjack!ari like 🫣🫣🫣🫣

༻𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠༺

I'm adding this onto my like real people oneshot bc dark lumberjack daddy needs more screen time 😌

(Warnings!! Dark!Ari!! Smut!! Like a tiny bit of angst but it's not bad at all!! Mentions thoughts of murder from Ari!! Dumbification!! Breeding!!)

It had been 6 months since Ari had saved you from the big bad world and now that it was summer, you craved to be around people. To go outside more and hang around the lake with your friends. Well you're not so sure they were your friends. Afterall Ari knew everything and he said that they were just using your stupidity to laugh at you.

You remember crying all night when Ari had told you this. He soon comforted you though by telling you that he would never do that, that he loved you and he adored teaching you everything he had to offer. You were absolutely smitten for him just as he was you.

Yet you didn't like his rule of not being able to go outside without his permission or him accompanying you. You felt trapped. So everytime Ari got home at the beggining of summer you pleaded with him to take you to the lake to go skinny dipping and everytime you were met with a harsh glare and a spanking.

After two weeks of asking you eventually gave up, his stubborn attitude and the spankings he gave you made you stop trying. This dulled your mood, and you eventually stopped greeting him with cheerful hellos and goodbyes. Instead when he got home, he was greeted with you serving him dinner and then a silent meal. No matter how he tried to converse you simply just gave him one word replies and he knew he had to make this right.

So everynight while you slept, he dedicated 2 hours to building you a hot tub. He put it around the back so that you had a beautiful view of the town from way up here. He was determined to get you to smile again, to get his little Persephone to stay happy and never wander back home.

After 2 weeks of working on it, he was finally finished, June had ended and July had sprang up. It was hot and perfect weather for you to lounge in and pretend you were at the lake. He was going to suprise you with it later today after he had finished work.

With a groan he pulled his arms off your body that was latched onto his, and sat at the end of the bed. He was nervous for today but he knew it would disappear the second he picked up his axe and imagined it being all the boys and men that said crude things about you. He stood up, and began dressing, looking down at you with a soft smile. He would do anything for you and you didn't even know. He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead and left you some breakfast to eat.

He headed to work and wore a smirk, thinking about the time he went into the town after rumours of you dating the grumpy giant were confirmed. How all the men looked disappointed that you were snatched up by the big bad man rather than them. He could have beaten them up for even imagining you as theirs yet he refrained and instead handed in your notice of quitting work. Ensuring you were completely devoted to him.

God when he got home that day he marked you like a feral caveman. And with those thoughts lingering in his mind he began chopping. All the while you had just awoken and headed downstairs finding breakfast already made. You couldn't help but smile as you felt butterflies errupt in your chest at the sweet gesture.

After cleaning you went for a nap and awoke an hour before Ari came home. You decided you would cook him something nice as a way to say thank you for the treat this morning.

You dressed in a dress that Ari had bought you, it was very short but so pretty. You floated around the house cleaning it wearing only your pretty dress because Ari made the rule that you didn't need to wear underwear in his house because you were his wife and wives didn't need to be so prudish around their husbands.

Ari parked his truck in the driveway and walked down the pathway leading to the house. He opened it and was hit with the smell of steak. He smiled and took his shoes off and headed towards the kitchen, practically floating on the fumes of food and his adoration for you.

He stood at the door was appreciating the view before him. There you were clad only in the dress Ari got you. It was so short he could see the underside of your ass sticking out of it. He watched you place the steak on his place with a happy hum. "This is a great surprise little baby, any reason why?"

You jumped and turned seeing Ari stood there with a lazy smirk on his face. You looked down and blushed as he began to walk to you. You looked up when you heard his heavy footsteps. He stood in front of you and placed his hands on your hips and pulled you closer somehow. Your feet were on top of his and your hips were pressed together. "What's the reason for this baby? Tell me." He feared you had found the hot tub before he could surprise you with it, yet his fears were quickly wiped clean with your sunshine voice.

You beamed at him, "It's for making me breakfast this morning, it was really sweet. I know you're always in a rush for work but it was lovely." He smiled and leaned down placing a gentle kiss on your lips. "Come on baby, let's eat this beautiful dinner you've cooked me."

You both sat down and began digging in, this time there was no silence as you began babbling to him about things you saw on the magazines which Ari got you. He smiled and you began pitching ideas about decorating the spare room into something and all Ari had on his mind in that moment was turning it into a nursery. And then he had his reward for the night. He was going to get you pregnant. He was going to build a family with you, so you couldn't escape.

After you had finished eating and washing the dishes, Ari spoke, "I have a surprise for you little wifey." You looked at him, excitement coursing through your veins. "What is it?" He smiled and took your small soft hand in his and led you outside to the back. You gasped seeing candles everywhere and a hot tub built in the middle with a beautiful view of the town and the woods.

You turned and tackled Ari into a hug. He smiled. "Come on baby, let's try it out." You giggled, "I need to get my swim suit." Ari grabbed your arm and pulled you to his side, whispering in a sultry tone. "You said you wanted to go skinny dipping, So you're gonna strip get in the tub with me." You blushed heavily and began slowly pulling the straps of your dress down before if all was pulled off.

You stood naked before Ari watching as his eyes hungrily devoured you. You flashed him a shy smile and got in the hot tub soon followed by a naked Ari. He turned the bubbles on and you smiled feeling relaxed. "Come here baby, sit on my lap like a good girl." You pushed through the water and straddled him. You immediately felt the tip of his hard cock brushing against your hole and just as you were about to slide against it. Ari pushed your hips down, impaling you on his fat cock.

You moaned and Ari hid his grunt in the crook of your neck, opting to bite into your neck leaving a huge mark. He pulled away and you arched your back as you began grinding. He lowered his face to your tits instantly taking a nipple into his mouth and slobbering all over your tits. He moved you up and down on his lap, pulling away from your tit as he watched your eyes roll into your head. You were already dumb over simply grinding on his cock, so he had to take charge and man handle you into riding his cock.

"Such a good girl. Gonna cum in you baby. I'm gonna stuff you with my kid so that we can turn that room into a nursery. Gonna carry the Levinson name." You whined and babbled at him, yet he ignored you. You laid your head against his broad shouder, drooling from how well his cock massaged you walls. He began fucking into you, and the angle that you were at allowed for you to grind you clit against his pubes. Each rub bringing you closer to heaven.

"Fuck yeah! My little wifey. You're gonna be stuffed forever. With my cock and my kids. I'll get you that fuckin' ring too. I'll get you whatever you want baby." He held you close as he felt you start to convulse, cumming around his cock. He groaned at how tight you are. "Dumb fuckin' whore. We're in public and you're cumming on my cock. Anyone could see you, and you know what I'd do princess? I'd fucking kill 'em. No one is allowed to see you cum but me. Cause you're fuckin' mine."

Your registered the kiss on your head and the gentle murmurs of Ari before you faded to sleep mumbling to him, "lub you awi." He chuckled and replied "I lub you too baby. So much" and with that you closed your eyes and rest consumed you.

You answered him with a babble and unconsciously began boucing your ass on his cock, and with that he came inside you with a grunt and a stuttered moan. Making sure his cock was all the way inside you and his balls were against your ass. You sighed and collapsed on his chest, drooling and dumb. He playing with you hair, holding you close and making sure that you stayed together so that you kept most of his cum in for as long as possible.

trucker king masterlist

a dark trucker Ari Levinson series

pairing: dark trucker!ari levinson x female reader

summary: after you're stranded on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere, you're left to hitchhike home. when you're picked up by a truck driver who expects to be repaid for his kindness, your life turns down an entirely new and different road.

status: ongoing

series warnings: 18+ content (minors do not interact!!!), smut, dubcon/noncon, abduction, coercion, sex as payment, rough sex, sadism/masochism, degradation, stockholm syndrome (these are not exhaustive, read the warnings on each part!)

main series

part 1

part 2

part 2 epilogue

miscellaneous bits

meeting Ari's trucker friends over the radio

Ari's pov while you're sucking his cock

the original trucker!Ari request and drabble

trucker!Ari headcanons

what toys Ari would use on reader

would Ari have a watersports kink?

what Ari would do if someone tried to take reader from him

what Ari would do if another woman hit on him

has Ari abducted girls before?

Ari is touch-starved

other characters in my trucker au

will any Henry Cavill characters join the trucker au?

how trucker!Andy likes to be greeted when he gets home

trucker!Andy introduction drabble

trucker!Lee and alternate trucker!Bucky ideas

current list of characters who are/will be in my trucker au

trucker!Bucky request and drabble

everything in this AU is tagged trucker au or trucker ari levinson

i need trucker ari BIBLICALLY like i would do anything for this man IDC. tysm for this series you're a genius i keep checking your account multiple times a day for trucker ari updates

trucker king (part 2)

pairing: dark trucker!ari levinson x female reader

summary: it's easier than you would've expected to fall into a routine in ari levinson’s truck, but he doesn't trust that you've accepted your new life—so you try to prove to him that you won't abandon your king.

warnings: 18+ content (minors do not interact!!!), smut, abuduction, coercion, sex as payment, piv sex, rough sex, creampie, oral sex (m receiving), first time anal sex (f receiving), sadism/masochism, choking, breathplay, dacryphilia, painplay, rough body play, rough breast/nipple play, pussy slapping, biting/marking, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, cock warming, exhibitionism, humiliation kink, objectification, possessive sex, possessive behavior, daddy kink, heavy degradation, some praise, pet names (sweetheart, baby, kiddo), a little more aftercare, stockholm syndrome, a mean hot man—i think that's everything but if i forgot to tag something, please please please let me know!!

word count: 9k

a/n: ok i'm supposed to be packing to move but i wanted to get this fic done and posted because i just love trucker ari so much!!!! i have nothing really to say about this fic except 🤤🤤🤤🤤 so please enjoy the second part of this series, which is a little softer but possibly filthier? lol i'm gonna do at least one more full part and possibly a little update before then (or, knowing me, it'll end up being pretty long). anyway, there's more trucker ari to come, don't worry!!!

trucker king part 1

It was easier than you would’ve expected to fall into a routine in Ari Levinson’s truck. He was as rough and mean as he was cruel and crude, but the filthy trucker did something to you, and you found yourself falling effortlessly into the role of his personal fucktoy. 

Your holes were his to use, and it seemed like your body took great pleasure in making sure you were always wet and ready for him. You were wet for him from the time he woke up, using your cunt to slake his morning wood while he held your rope leash and tugged mercilessly on your makeshift collar. And you were still wet for him when he took you like a beast at night, making you scream and cry before settling down for a couple hours of sleep.

You weren’t sure if it was simply your body’s way of bracing for the endless desire that seemed to possess Ari, or if you genuinely enjoyed being his cock whore, but it didn’t matter beyond making the days easier. 

When Ari held your mouth down on his cock for so long your jaw began to hurt, it didn’t bother you too much because your cunt was throbbing and your slit was leaking, making your head fuzzy. And when Ari took your cunt so hard it hurt, your pussy gushed around his thick cock while you cried through the pain and pleasure, knowing your tears and screams would only make him harder anyway. 

Within the first week with your trucker, you’d grown to crave the exquisite combination of pain and pleasure that only Ari seemed able to offer you. If you’d ever considered trying to escape him, those thoughts flitted further and further away the more you grew accustomed to life with the man who’d taken you and become your king.

It helped that those first few days after Ari picked you up off the side of the road weren’t all sex. When he wasn’t using one of your holes, he let you lounge on his bed, wearing one of his soft t-shirts or flannels. He had an e-reader and he let you download whatever you wanted. 

You spent many of the long hours on the road reading the smutty books your ex-boyfriend would’ve scoffed at. Ari, on the other hand, didn’t care what you were reading, as long as you were ready to suck his cock whenever he wanted.

Ari also made sure you were fed, picking up enough food for the both of you when he stopped at service stations along his route. 

The second night you’d been in his truck, Ari had gotten you a chocolate milkshake and you’d moaned so obscenely at the first sip of the delicious treat, Ari had growled and reached for you. He’d bent you in half in the passenger seat and pounded into your cunt until he spilled his seed deep inside you, groaning so loudly your ears rang.

You’d had to eat your dinner cold, but you couldn’t deny it’d tasted better with Ari’s come leaking down your thighs. 

Since then, Ari always picked up something sweet for you from the truck stops and service stations where he parked, whether it was a milkshake, a box of packaged cupcakes or a bag of candy. You suspected he liked the little sounds of delight you made when he gave you the treats, and it made you want to show your appreciation, though you held back, unsure how he’d react if you initiated anything.

After all, for all the trucker kept you relatively comfortable and happy, he clearly didn’t trust you. He’d always lock you in the cab of his truck, your rope leash tying you to something inside with knots so intricate even your smaller fingers didn’t have a hope of undoing them. 

Ari would leave you with a stern glare and a threatening warning—which, more often than not, would make you wet instead of scaring you like he intended. Still, you’d nod solemnly, showing you understood. You’d wait patiently for him to return, but no matter how many times you didn’t try to escape, Ari still didn’t trust you.

It was clear Ari thought you’d try to escape if given half a chance, but—though you were certain you’d never be able to—you never tried. You’d accepted your new life with Ari that first night, and as the days went on, you wondered what it would take to make him see you weren’t going anywhere.

You stumbled your way into an opportunity to do just that about a week after Ari had picked you up. The days had started to blur into one another, and you wondered how long Ari was typically on the road, but hadn’t worked up the courage to ask yet. If it was more than a week, you understood why he might’ve wanted a companion so badly he’d been willing to abduct you. 

Ari had pulled into a service station in the middle of the afternoon, walked you to the bathroom wearing one of his shirts and some sweatpants that were far too big on you. The clothes you’d worn that first night were too dirty to wear anymore and Ari had said he’d take you shopping once he finished his route. He’d tied you up again in the cab while he went to grab some snacks, and you were lounging in the passenger seat reading a book on his e-reader.

The driver’s side door opened, but you didn’t look up, too engrossed in the smutty scene you were reading. It was so hot, you were bound to be leaving a wet spot in your borrowed sweatpants. 

You jumped when a bag of candy landed in your lap. Too startled to hide your genuine reaction, you shrieked in delight when you saw what it was and dropped the e-reader in favor of the candy. 

“These are my favorite!” you cried, turning a megawatt smile on Ari as he settled into the driver’s seat, tossing some more snacks onto the dashboard. Unable to contain your delight, you launched yourself into Ari’s lap, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and squeezing him.

“What is this?” Ari asked after a long moment, his tone cold and gruff at the same time. One of his big hands patted your back awkwardly. 

You laughed at his silly question as you leaned back, your arms loosening a little so you could look into his face. Ari’s expression was suspicious, his brilliant blue eyes narrowed as he stared down at you, his mouth pressed into a firm line in the midst of his beard. You realized he was seriously asking you what you were doing and laughed some more. 

“It’s a hug, Ari,” you explained, unable to wipe the grin from your face. “It’s a thank you for getting me my favorite candy.”

Ari stared at you for a long moment, like he was deciding whether to believe you or not. You tried to hold firm and show him there was nothing disingenuous about your reaction or the hug, but the intensity of his gaze had you squirming. Your ass brushed against a bulge in Ari’s pants and you gasped softly, your lashes fluttering as heat and desire coursed through your body. 

Ari’s fingers working open the buckle of the belt he still used as your collar drew you back into the moment, and you found his blue gaze had darkened and turned stormy. He dropped the makeshift collar onto the floor of the rig with a small thunk and you shivered, the movement grinding your ass against his cock and making his expression twist with the feral desire you’d come to associate with Ari.

It seemed he’d decided to move on from the hug he didn’t understand because his next words were, “C’mon baby, time to earn your keep,” he rumbled, a smirk tugging up the corner of his mouth, “My dick’s not gonna suck itself, so get to it, cock whore.” 

He was already pushing you off his lap and you tumbled into the space between the driver and passenger seats. The slight pain of impact was dulled by arousal as your gaze fell to where Ari was pulling his cock out of his pants. Drool began pooling around your tongue at the anticipation of taking his cock into your mouth, your already damp slit growing wetter at the sight of his hardening cock. 

Ari used his free hand to turn the truck on, the engine rumbling to life beneath your ass, while his fist pumped his hard length lazily. Your fingers itched to dive beneath the hem of your sweatpants and tease your dripping hole, but instead you shifted onto your knees while Ari maneuvered the big rig out of the service station parking lot and back onto the interstate, your gaze distracted by the sight of him working the wheel and his cock at the same time. 

Pushing up onto your knees, your hands resting on Ari’s thick, muscular thigh, you dove forward, wrapping your lips around the head of his cock and groaning at the musky taste of him. He was almost as delicious as the candy he’d gotten you—and that thought suddenly reminded you of the sweet snack still in its unopened package.

You’d already started sucking Ari’s cock, your mouth making lewd slurping sounds as you bobbed on the crown of his dick, but you pulled off him, the suction from your lips making a soft popping sound. Tilting your head up at your filthy trucker, you gave him your best pleading eyes. 

“Can I use my pussy to cockwarm you instead, Ari?” you asked in a whining tone. Your hips were squirming with excitement where you knelt on the floor of the truck cab, and your cunt was already dripping down to coat your upper thighs beneath the hem of your sweatpants. “Please?” you begged shamelessly. 

Ari’s cock twitched before your eyes, but his gaze narrowed on you as he grew suspicious again. “Why?” he bit out the question, but didn’t wait for a response. “Because if it’s ‘cause your jaw hurts, I got bad news for you, cock slut—I don’t fucking care.” His hand grabbed the back of your head and began forcing your mouth to his cock, his roughness only making you wetter. 

“I just wanted to eat my candy,” you mumbled against his stiff length, your lips ghosting over the soft skin of his cock. He felt like steel wrapped in velvet, and smelled like Ari, and you felt your disappointment over not getting to eat your treat easing as you started to crave the taste of him more than the candy. 

You kissed your way up the length of Ari’s cock, but just as suddenly as he’d pushed your face into his lap, he wrenched it away. Ari’s hand slid to the front of your throat, holding you on your knees on the floor of the truck while he glanced between your eyes and the road. 

“That’s all you want?” Ari asked in a gruff, careful voice. “Ya wanna eat your candy while I use your holes?” 

You could hear the disbelief in Ari’s tone so you curved your lips in a sweet smile and nodded, your chin bumping against his hand. “Yes, please,” you said in your most innocent voice. 

For the next few moments, Ari kept looking between your face—the picture of genuineness—and the road, seeming to debate whether he could trust you or if it was some kind of desperate escape attempt. You waited for him to decide, knowing there was no more you could do. Ultimately, Ari would have to trust that you’d accepted you belonged to him, and there was nothing you could do besides show him again and again until he believed it. 

“Alright, fucktoy,” Ari growled, his fingers tightening around the sides of your neck in warning. “But you behave while you’re on my lap,” he rumbled, his blue eyes cold and cruel as he gave you a sharp look. “If you make me crash this rig so you can try to escape, I’ll drag you back and tie you to my bed.” His voice turned mean as he threatened you. “There’ll be no more candy, no more nice trucker—I’ll fuck you until you’re broken or dead, and if I kill you, your family will be lucky if they ever find your body.”

A shiver of fear slid down your spine but, inexplicably, a curl of desire warmed between your thighs, too. You didn’t want to dwell on how fucked up it was that you got off on Ari threatening to kill you and bury your body, so you focused instead on meeting his gaze with your own and nodding. 

“I understand,” you said, your voice soft but steady. “I’ll be good.”

Ari gave you one more long look, squeezing your throat so hard your eyes widened and your mouth fell open in a surprised squeak, then he released you. He shifted deeper in the driver’s seat, his hand on the wheel of his truck, the elbow of his arm resting on the windowsill of the door. His thick cock lay against his stomach, precum beading at the tip that you desperately wanted to lick off. But Ari had given you permission to sit in his lap and you weren’t going to waste it. 

Excitedly, you stood up as much as you could in the truck cab, pushing your sweatpants down your legs and not caring if you accidentally showed your ass to another driver on the interstate. Grabbing the bag of candy Ari had gotten you from the passenger seat, you held it while you clambered into his lap.

Carefully, you wedged your knees on either side of Ari’s hips, leaning against his arm braced on the window so he could see around you while you grabbed his cock, stroking it once, unable to stop yourself, before notching the tip at your entrance. Slowly, you sank down on Ari’s hardness, bracing yourself against his pecs through his soft flannel shirt. You took your time to make sure you didn’t distract him too much from the road. 

You wished you could shove yourself down on Ari’s length, burying his full cock inside you in seconds. You’d grown to crave the way he’d take you like that, so fast and fierce it punched the breath from your lungs and felt like he was splitting you in half. 

But you forced yourself to move slowly, pressing down on Ari’s cock inch by torturous inch, your breaths coming in sharp pants against his throat. Until, finally, you were fully impaled on your trucker’s cock. Your soft moan was nearly loud enough to drown out the sound of the leather steering wheel creaking beneath Ari’s tightening grip.

For a long moment, you savored the feeling of Ari’s big cock filling you up, his thick girth stretching your hole. You let your eyes flutter closed as you let out a contented sigh. Your mind went deliciously fuzzy, and it was your only excuse for the words that slipped past your lips. 

“Feels s’good, daddy,” you slurred, like you were drunk on your trucker’s cock.

That final word hung in the air and it wasn’t until Ari’s cruel laugh broke through the quiet that you realized what you’d said. Your eyes flew open to take in his reaction. An evil grin was spreading across Ari’s handsome face, his blue eyes sparkling in the afternoon sunlight, depraved hunger etched into every line of his face. 

“You really were put on this earth to be a fucktoy, weren’t you, baby?” he asked in that cruelly condescending tone of his. “You’ve got three holes made for worshipping cock,” he said, like he was ticking things off a list. “You get wet from choking on my dick and you’ve got a daddy kink?” 

Ari chuckled, tossing his head from side to side like he couldn’t believe his luck, which warmed your heart even as shame and embarrassment heated your cheeks. Instead, you turned your focus to the buttons of Ari’s flannel, your fingers working them open to reveal his golden skin and the thick dusting of dark chest hair. 

Ari waited until you pushed the sides of his shirt open, threading your fingers through his chest hair before he grabbed your hand to still it. His heartbeat was steady and strong beneath your palm.

“Ya wanna call me daddy, baby?” Ari asked, ducking down enough to catch your eye, his gaze shifting between yours and the road over your shoulder. A wolfish grin was still fixed on his face as he went on. “Ya wanna call me daddy while I fuck you harder and meaner than a daddy should ever fuck his little girl?” His eyes danced with evil excitement as he spoke. “Ya want me to call you kiddo while my cock’s buried in your cunt and I’m pumping you full of come?” 

Your body reacted instinctively to Ari’s words before you could think better of it—your cunt clenching down on his cock and a whine working its way up your throat, slipping out of your mouth. More shame and embarrassment followed your reaction and you squirmed, but that only had the effect of Ari’s cock rubbing against your inner walls, making you moan more brokenly. 

“Please, daddy,” you begged in a husky voice, fighting against the heaviness in your eyes to hold Ari’s gaze. 

His blue eyes darkened as he watched your reaction. “You’re as filthy as I am, aren’t you, baby?” he murmured, his tone low, almost reverent. 

“Yes, daddy,” you whispered, staring deep into Ari’s eyes. Your hips began rolling in tiny circles, fucking yourself on his cock. It felt so good, you couldn’t stop yourself. You’d all but forgotten the fact that Ari was driving. 

He hadn’t, though, and he tore his gaze away from yours to look back at the road. The truck jerked a little and you ducked your head to hide a smirk, stilling your hips as you opened the bag of candy Ari had gotten you. 

Your instincts told you something had shifted between you and Ari, if only infinitesimally, and you didn’t want to push him too much, so you focused on being a good cockwarmer for your king.

For a little while, you sat quietly on Ari’s lap, feeling his big cock filling you up. He twitched occasionally inside you, making your eyes flutter, but you didn’t roll your hips again. 

You ate your candy, making little sounds of delight at the delicious sugary sweetness. Your gaze was fixed on Ari’s chest, tracing the curves of his pecs, the pattern of his dark hair contrasting against his golden skin, and the shiny silver Star of David necklace that hung around his neck.

While you sat on his cock and ate your candy, Ari opened up a bag of chips, wedging them between your thighs so they were balanced between your tummies. His knuckles would graze against your belly through the packaging every time he reached inside. Each time, it made your breath hitch—the feeling of his fingers trailing down toward your throbbing clit only to pull away before touching you was a ruthless tease. 

To distract yourself, you said the first thing that came to mind. 

“I don’t have much family,” you said, shaking your bag of candy as you tried to pick what piece you’d eat next. 

Ari didn’t look away from the road, but he grunted in acknowledgement, his hand digging into the bag of chips between your thighs, his knuckles dragging against your lower belly, so close to your mound, your pussy clenched around his cock. He grunted again, smirking a little, before pulling his hand out of the bag and shoving the chips into his mouth. 

“You said my family would be lucky to find me,” you explained, referring to his latest threat. You popped a piece of candy into your mouth, chewing and swallowing before continuing. “But they probably wouldn’t look very hard.” You said the words lightly, like you didn’t care. 

And you didn’t, not really. It may have bothered you that the only person you’d had that you could rely on to care about whether you wound up dead was your boyfriend—your ex—but he’d left you on the side of the road. So apparently he didn’t care very much. 

At least Ari had been there to pick you up. You’d probably be dead without your trucker.

“There must be someone to miss you,” Ari grumbled, and, if you weren’t mistaken, you thought he might be uncomfortable. 

You shrugged, looking into your bag of candy to avoid his gaze. Maybe it was pathetic that the only person in the whole world who cared about you enough to make sure you were alive was the man who’d abducted you and made you earn your keep by keeping his cock warm, but it was better than having no one at all. 

“My boyfriend—my ex—maybe,” you said, your tone distracted as you tried to focus entirely on your candy. The bag was nearly empty and it saddened you more than the thought that there wasn’t anyone from your old life besides your ex to miss you. “But he was the one who left me on the side of the road, so I don’t think he’ll care much if you kill me.”

Suddenly, Ari’s big hand snatched the bag of candy from yours, grabbing both it and the chips and tossing them onto the passenger seat. Once done, his hand wrapped around the front of your throat and tilted your face up to look at him. His eyes were swirling with so many emotions that you didn’t have a hope of understanding what he might be thinking or feeling. 

You were so consumed by the intensity of Ari’s gaze, you barely noticed he was pulling the truck over to idle on the side of the interstate. You only realized he’d put the rig in park when his other arm abandoned the wheel to wrap around your lower back, holding you pinned to his lap. 

“You have a boyfriend,” Ari stated, his voice hard and rough as the gravel that crunched beneath the tires of his truck. His blue eyes were cold and sharp as he took in your face, like was waiting to read your reaction to his statement.

“Had,” you bit out, knowing your expression was turning angry. “He left me on the side of the road,” you repeated with more emphasis in your words. “He’s not my boyfriend anymore.”

“You would’ve fucking froze if I hadn’t come along,” Ari said, his voice still gruff, but sounding furious as he came to the same realization you’d already had. “He left you there to fucking die.” 

It almost made you laugh the way Ari sounded affronted by the idea, as if he hadn’t threatened to kill you less than an hour before. 

But you couldn’t laugh because something strange was happening in your body—emotion flowed through you, your heart feeling fuller than your cunt and tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You tried to squirm, but Ari only held you tighter, his arm holding your hips to his lap and his fingers squeezing your throat, not quite tight enough to choke you but almost. 

A small whine built up in your throat and you tried to bite it back, but it slipped out anyway. “Daddy,” you whimpered. 

Ari’s gaze, which had gone distant, snapped back to your face at your whimper. His mouth twisted in a feral snarl. 

“You’re never going back to that limp-dicked little asshole, do you hear me, baby?” he growled. His hand tightened around your throat and suddenly you were choking and crying. 

“Yes, daddy,” you sobbed, your fingers digging into Ari’s pecs, clinging to his firm muscles and using them to ground yourself. “Never going back,” you repeated, hiccuping through your tears. 

“You’re gonna stay right where you were meant to be—with me,” he growled, beginning to pound up into you from below, punching the air from your lungs. “I’m your king, your fucking daddy; I’m your whole goddamned world and I’m never letting you go.” Ari’s hands and his cock were merciless as he used your body, his hard length twitching inside you every time a fresh wave of tears spilled down your cheeks. “You were made to worship my cock, kiddo, and that’s what you’re gonna do—for the rest of your fucking life.”

It was all you could do to hold on while Ari bounced you on his cock, his hand choking you while you sobbed through the emotions his words had stirred inside you. When he ducked forward, licking the tears from your face, his beard rasping over your sensitive skin, you cried harder, your heart pounding and your cunt clenching around his cock as you teetered on the edge of your release. 

“Rub your clit, cock slut,” Ari growled against your jaw as he lapped up your salty tears, groaning at the taste of them. “Come on daddy’s cock while I pound your pussy like I own it—because I fucking do.” He fucked you furiously from beneath, his hips slapping against your thighs as you cried and moaned uncontrollably. “This cunt is mine—you are mine.”

Wasting no time following Ari’s order, one of your hands slipped between your thighs, rubbing your messy, throbbing clit until you shattered apart. Your whole body trembled and you choked out a hoarse scream before Ari squeezed your throat tighter and cut off the sound. Black crept into your vision as you were swept beneath the waves of pleasure, your whole body going loose and pliant. 

Distantly, you heard Ari growling, “Mine, mine, mine,” as he rutted up into you. Finally, he pulled you down hard on his cock, the tip of him battering against your cervix and making you cry fresh tears even through the aftershocks of your release. 

He groaned loudly, the obscene sound filling the cab of his truck as he came inside you, spilling his seed so deep in your cunt, you thanked your past self for getting an IUD while you’d been with your ex. 

Ari’s hand released your throat and you slumped against his chest, your cheek pillowed on one of his muscular pecs, his chest hair soft as you nuzzled into him. Ari’s chest was rising and falling as he caught his breath, his hands idly kneading your hips and ass. 

Neither of you said anything else, but you felt Ari’s possessiveness in every touch of his hands. Instead of making you feel trapped, though, you only felt safe and at peace. It was easy to let yourself melt into Ari’s arms, your mind drifting in a haze of sated pleasure and contentment.

You fell asleep with your head on Ari’s chest, your fingers stroking over the cool metal of his Star of David necklace and the warmth of his skin. You didn’t know how long you slept, but when you roused, the truck was rumbling along the road again and the sun hung low in the sky as dusk settled over the countryside. Between your thighs, you could feel Ari’s come and your own release leaking out from around his half-hard cock, and you pressed a smile into Ari’s chest before sitting up.

Looking outside the windows, you saw that Ari’s rig was stuck in slow moving traffic and when you glanced up into his face, you saw the look of frustration etched into his expression. 

Ari hated traffic, and he usually took his frustration out on your mouth, but you didn’t know what he would do with you sitting on his lap—not to mention that he could get pulled over if someone caught you sitting with him in the driver’s seat. 

“I’m fucking your ass as soon as we’re out of this shit,” Ari growled when he realized you were awake. His voice was hard and cruel, but your body warmed at his words anyway even as you sucked in a breath of surprise. 

“I’ve never done that,” you said on an exhale. It was, frankly, a wonder that Ari hadn’t taken your ass in all the days he’d had you, but you supposed your mouth and pussy were easier to take. Trepidation and a little bit of excitement swirled in your chest at the thought of Ari fucking your ass.

Ari’s cold blue eyes flicked to your face before returning to the road. “You’re gonna love it, cock slut,” he rumbled, some of the tension easing out of him as he talked to you in his condescending tone. “And if you don’t, it doesn’t matter—I’m gonna love fucking your tight virgin ass enough for the both of us.” 

You shivered, feeling more arousal seep between your thighs at his cruel words, making Ari chuckle. He patted your ass almost fondly, like you were a pet he was trying to reassure. Something about it only turned you on more. 

“Don’t worry, kiddo, you’re a born cock whore,” he said, his tone verging on warm. “You’ll enjoy getting fucked in the ass just as much as you enjoy getting fucked in your other holes.” 

His hand gripped your ass hard, and a low moan tumbled from your mouth. You tried to rock your hips to fuck yourself on Ari’s cock, but his hand smacked your ass hard enough to sting. 

“Not now,” he growled, his eyebrows lowered dangerously over his glittering blue eyes. “A good fucktoy should sit still while they’re warming my cock.”

“Yes, daddy,” you murmured, lowering your eyes in deference. That seemed to please Ari, his hand rubbing your ass to soothe away the sting he’d inflicted. 

“Good girl,” he purred, sitting back against his seat, staring out through the windshield as the cars and trucks inched along. 

While Ari navigated the traffic on the interstate, you kept yourself entertained by watching the scenery as it passed. However, slowly it was blotted out when another big rig pulled up alongside Ari’s truck. You peered inside the other truck curiously, finding a man with dark brown hair, blue eyes more crystal in color than Ari’s, and dark stubble decorating his sharp jaw. 

The stranger was handsome, wearing a soft blue crewneck that brought out the color of his eyes, but there was a violence clinging to him that you only recognized because you’d spent so much time with Ari. The other trucker had nothing but cold, cruel darkness—even more depthless than Ari’s—in his gaze when he turned and caught you looking. His sharp grin was wolfish as it spread across his face, making you suck in a sharp gasp before turning back to Ari. 

He was flicking his gaze between your face and the other trucker’s rig, a cruel smirk on his lips. “Already thinking about leaving me, baby?” he asked cruelly. “Ya wondering if that trucker will be your new daddy?”

“No, no, Ari, you’re the only man I’ll ever call daddy,” you rushed to say, somewhat surprised to find you meant what you were saying. “I was just looking.”

“Mm,” Ari hummed noncommittally, making a show of looking between you and the other trucker. An evil look shimmered in Ari’s eyes as he said casually, “He looks lonely to me, why don’t you show him your tits.”

It was on the tip of your tongue to laugh and ask if he was serious, but one glance at Ari’s expression told you he was very serious—and his words weren’t a suggestion so much as a command. The way his cock hardened inside you also told you that he was getting off on the perverted order. 

Just like you were. 

Arousal throbbed in your core as you glanced around to make sure none of the other drivers would be able to see. That was one of the perks of Ari’s truck cab being so high up, no one could see inside aside from the other trucker. 

So you sat up and turned your upper body toward the window. Quickly, so you couldn’t second guess yourself for following Ari’s order, you lifted the plain white t-shirt that was covering your chest. You weren’t wearing a bra, so your nipples were bared to the warm air of the truck cab and the eyes of anyone looking in. 

Humiliated heat flared in your cheeks and your sensitive nipples puckered at the indecency of what you were doing. It took a brief moment to gather your courage enough to look out the window to see the other truck driver’s reaction, but he wasn’t looking at you. Disappointment spiraled through your gut and you began lowering your shirt, even more mortified than when you’d lifted it.

Ari wouldn’t let that stand, though, and he lightly tapped twice on his horn, getting the other man’s attention. The stranger’s eyes slid to yours, then dropped. Even from across the space between the rigs, you could see the way his eyes darkened and his face twisted with hungry desire. 

It made you shiver, to have your body be so openly desired by another man while you were impaled on Ari’s cock. You felt powerful and shameful all at the same time—perfectly embodying the cock whore Ari always called you. But in that moment, you took pride in it. 

You pushed your shoulders back, your hands holding your shirt up and shimmying your body so your tits bounced for the other trucker’s gaze. A slutty grin spread across your face as you watched him stare hungrily at your chest.

A second later, a slapping sound rang out in the truck cab, followed by a stinging pain in your breast. Startled, you flinched and looked down in time to see Ari’s big hand smacking your other tit, pinching your nipple so hard it made your cunt clench around Ari’s cock. 

Your trucker smacked your tits brutally, even more shame spiraling through your body as you just sat there, holding your shirt up and letting Ari pinch your nipples and mistreat your tits while another man watched. It was degrading, humiliating.

Even still, warmth curled through your body, your pussy clenching around Ari’s cock with every stinging slap, more wetness dripping down from where you were joined to coat his balls in your depraved arousal. After a few more smacks to your chest, you couldn’t help yourself—your head fall back, an obscene moan spilling from your wide open mouth as Ari abused your tits. 

“Good cock whore,” he rasped, his voice low and delicious as he slapped your tits. He was fully hard inside you, his thick cock stretching out your pussy while you were impaled on his stiff length. “Ya like letting daddy rough up your slutty tits while he shows you off to a stranger?”

“Ye-yes, daddyyy,” you said, stumbling over your words. It was one thing to do it, it was another thing to admit to liking it, but Ari wrung the confession out of you far too easily. It was difficult to be anything but honest when you were overwhelmed by the pleasure and pain he offered.

Your trucker chuckled, the sound condescending, making your pussy flutter around his fat cock. Grabbing the back of your head, he held you tilted back, your face turned up toward him. “Tongue out,” he ordered in that cold, cruel voice that made you warm with desire.

Eagerly, you stuck your tongue out, and Ari made a show of gathering a big glob of spit on his lips, letting it drip onto your tongue. Without hesitation, you closed your mouth and swallowed Ari’s spit, murmuring, “Thank you, daddy,” before opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out again. 

Ari’s blue eyes flared with intensity, his cock twitching within your body. Your fucked up heart warmed at the sight and feel of your trucker looking at you like you were his own perfect porn star come to life.

The blare of a horn brought your attention back to the other man. He was grinning shamelessly, his hand holding up a phone as he took pictures of your tits. The delicious heat of shame spread through your body, even as you rationalized there was no way your face would be recognizable in the pictures. Still, the knowledge that some strange man had taken pictures of your tits—and Ari had let him—made you gush with arousal. 

The stranger’s gaze flicked to Ari’s for a moment and he saluted his thanks to your trucker. Ari tipped his head in return, and something about the interaction turned you on even more. Ari had fucked you possessively every time he’d taken you, but you’d never felt more like a fucktoy to be used and shared than when he’d made you put on a show for another man.

You lowered your shirt back down over your chest, the warmth of your desire and embarrassment curling through your body pleasantly. The more you thought about Ari sharing you with someone else, the more your cunt clenched around his cock, hard enough for him to grunt.

“Almost there, baby,” he muttered. 

To your relief, he was right. The traffic began to thin out when the rig passed the exit that was causing the slowdown and the truck picked up speed as it rolled on down the interstate. 

It was another half hour, the sun having dipped beneath the horizon, before Ari pulled into a service station. You were so turned on, your mind filled with a haze of desire, that it took you a moment to realize he’d parked the truck and shut off the engine. 

The feeling of Ari’s big palm slapping your ass finally brought you out of the daze you’d been drifting in. 

“In the back,” he gritted out, busying himself with locking the doors of the truck cab. 

You moved on shaky legs, your knees almost giving out when you tried to stand up, easing yourself off Ari’s cock and tumbling into the cot in the back. You shifted into the position he normally took you, on your hands and knees. But your arms were shaking too much to hold you up, so you sank down until your face was pressed to the soft flannel blanket covering the bed, breathing in the familiar smell of Ari. 

Your trucker settled behind you, his hands groping your ass and smacking the plush curves a few times while you groaned through the sting and the aching need pulsing between your thighs. 

Suddenly, Ari’s fingers dipped into your slick cunt, making your eyes fly open and a surprised cry to wrench free from your lips. He gathered your wetness then dragged his fingers up to your little rosebud, rubbing them around your tightest hole to get you wet enough to take him. 

The strange sensation of his probing fingers made you whine, your hips moving instinctively to pull away, but Ari’s other hand just grabbed your hip and pulled you back. 

“You’re not getting away from this, cock whore,” Ari growled, his fingers digging into your hips hard enough he was going to leave finger-shaped bruises. “Your king is gonna fuck your ass whether you like it or not, so you might as well relax and take it like a good fucktoy.” 

Ari pushed one finger into your tightest hold, sliding inside you a few times before he added a second, using it to stretch your ass and prepare you for his cock. All the while, you fisted your hands in the blankets and tried to relax, the pain of the stretch mixing with the pleasure of his fingers fucking your ass, the sensations made all the more intense because of their newness. 

“Daddy,” you pleaded on a hiccuping gasp, not knowing whether you were begging Ari to stop or to fuck you with his cock. It didn’t much matter, because you knew Ari was going to do whatever he wanted anyway. There was a freedom to that, and you let yourself relax further, allowing Ari to add a third finger to your tight hole.

“Good girl,” Ari purred, pumping deeper and harder inside you, working your ass open for his cock. “That’s it, kiddo, taking daddy’s fingers like a fucking champ.” He kept fucking you for a few more minutes, ignoring your sobbing moans, before he withdrew from your ass. 

You were already a needy, boneless mess when Ari notched the tip of his cock against your little rosebud, your thighs trembling and your breaths panting past your lips as you lay with your ass up and face down in the blanket on the bed. Ari chuckled, soothing his hands over your ass cheeks before gripping them tight and pulling them apart, pushing his cockhead against your tightest hole.

For a split second, you panicked that he was going to be too big to fit and it was on the tip of your tongue to protest, but then he pushed forward ruthlessly. The crown of his cock popped past the first ring of muscle and your words dissolved in a filthy groan as he stretched you open even more than his fingers.

“So fucking tight,” Ari gritted out through a clenched jaw, his words barely audible as he sucked in deep breaths. His fingertips dug into your hips, gripping you so tightly it hurt, but it was a different kind of ache to the discomfort of his cock sliding another inch inside your ass. “That’s it, cock slut, take daddy’s big fat dick in your ass, feel me claiming your tight virgin hole for the first time—fuck!” 

Words escaped you as your mind and body were overwhelmed with the feeling of Ari steadily and mercilessly impaling you on his cock. It hurt, even with his cock soaked in your arousal and the time he’d taken to prepare you, but it felt good too. The pain and pleasure churned in your core while your pussy dripped your desire onto your thighs. 

Ari shoved the last few inches of his cock into your virgin ass, wrenching a scream from your lungs as tears gathered in your lashes. With a feral groan, he curled over your back, his face hovering just above yours where it was pressed into the bed. 

“Ya gonna cry, fucktoy?” he taunted, his cock twitching with excitement where it was lodged in your ass. 

It was such a tight fit, your delirious mind thought you could feel the pulsing of the veins on his cock and you moaned brokenly, tears spilling onto your cheeks. Ari’s tongue licked them up greedily while he laughed in your face.

“Yeah, that’s it, kiddo,” he teased, his tone so warm you could hear the smile in his words. “Cry while daddy fucks your ass—you know how hard it makes me when you cry on my cock.” He pulled out and slammed back inside your ass, ploughing through whatever dam had been holding the majority of your tears at bay.

A sob tore from your chest and you couldn’t stop the flood of tears pouring down your cheeks. Ari fucked your ass hard and fast, his body curled over yours as he plunged his cock inside your hole over and over again. All the while, you cried endless tears at the pain and pleasure. You already knew you’d never get enough of Ari’s cock no matter how long you stayed with him—even if it was for the rest of your life.

“Good girl, good cock whore,” Ari growled in your face while he licked the tears from your skin, his beard tickling your nose and mouth. The hand he’d used to prepare your ass wrapped around your throat, close enough that you could smell your own arousal on his fingers. 

He gripped you tight, his fingers digging into the sides of your throat and turning your cries into choked little sobs. Meanwhile, his other hand slipped around your hip to press between your trembling thighs.

The first graze of Ari’s fingers against your clit were like a lightning bolt of pleasure, your body going tense as you hovered on the edge of your release. But Ari didn’t seem ready to make you come because he pushed past your clit, finding your pussy dripping wet and soaking your thighs.

Ari chuckled, the sound low and decadent, reverberating down your spine from where his chest was pressed against your back. “Jesus christ, you fucking love this, don’t you, baby?” he taunted in his condescending tone, laughing at how turned on you were by his cock pounding into your ass.

His fingers rubbed through your slick folds, making a mess of your pussy while he kept fucking your other hole. It was all you could manage to moan and nod your head, showing him how much you loved the way he was making you feel, which only spurred him on.

“Ya love feeling my dirty trucker cock splitting your ass open and taking your tight hole for the first time,” he rumbled in your ear just before shoving three fingers in your pussy without warning.

The sudden intrusion made you cry out and clench down hard around his fingers and cock. You felt so stuffed full, but it still wasn’t enough to make you come and you suddenly felt ravenous with desire. More tears spilled down your cheeks as you sobbed and whimpered and squirmed. You needed more. 

“Your slutty little cunt wouldn’t be so wet it can take my fingers if you weren’t loving every second of daddy fucking your ass,” Ari growled. He pulled his fingers free from your sopping cunt and slapped your pussy hard enough you could hear the wet sound over both your heaving breaths.

“Daddy!” you screamed.

Ari slapped your cunt again, harder, his fingers catching you clit and white-hot pleasure zapped through your body. It was enough to tip you over the edge of the most intense orgasm you’d ever had, the sharp strike against your clit sending you careening into pleasure and pain. Ari grunted against your cheek, your body clenching tight around his cock as you shuddered through your release.

“You’re such a fucking slut, kiddo,” he groaned, rutting into your ass. His hand kept slapping your clit, making you twitch beneath his big body until he rested his heavy weight on top of you, taking you down to the bed while his other hand held your throat, pinning your upper body to his chest. “Guess I was right about you, huh?” he taunted on a breathless laugh. “You do love my fat cock fucking your ass, don’t you, baby?”

“Uh huh,” you mumbled breathlessly, your mind overwhelmed with pleasure and pain and Ari, “Uh huh, uh huh.” 

“Fucking christ, you were made for this,” he rumbled, his voice going lower as he picked up his pace, fucking your limp body into the bed. “Made to take me in all your holes, made to worship my big daddy dick with your mouth and your cunt and your ass—fuck,” he grunted, cursing as he fucked your ass harder and faster.

Ari’s hand was trapped between your body and the bed, but that didn’t stop his fingers from rubbing your clit, working you up to another orgasm even though you weren’t sure you could come again so soon. Overstimulated, your arms scrabbled at the blanket beneath you, your legs kicking out as your body tried to escape the painful pleasure Ari forced upon you. 

“You’re gonna come again, cock whore,” he growled in your ear. “You’re gonna milk daddy’s cock with your ass and I’m gonna claim the last of your holes.” 

His fingers rubbed your puffy, sensitive clit faster, wrenching more sobs and tears from your desperate body. You could feel your arms and legs shaking and shuddering as you lost control of them. Ari was in control of your body, and he was forcing you toward another orgasm that you knew would be devastating.

“You belong to me now, baby, d’you hear me?” Ari asked, his tone gruff with his own effort, but he didn’t stop to let you answer. “I’ll take care of ya, but you’re mine—your holes are mine to fuck and use and ruin if I want to.” His hand tightened around your throat, cutting off your sobs and your air. “I’m your daddy now, do you understand me?” 

Your mouth opened in a silent scream as you drowned in pleasure, unable to stay conscious as Ari’s choking hand and brutal cock carried you through another release. Blistering, burning pleasure consumed your body as your mind went blank.

You came to only a second later, sucking in a deep breath when Ari’s hand loosened around your throat and his teeth sank into your shoulder. Stinging pain mixed with exquisite pleasure as he fucked you through his release, biting you hard enough you knew it was going to leave a mark. 

Finally, with a fierce groan, Ari buried his cock ballsdeep in your ass as he chanted, “Mine, mine—my fucking girl,” against the spot on your shoulder that throbbed from his bite. His beard rasped over your skin as he pumped your ass full of his come, sending little ripples of warmth through your body. 

“Yours,” you whispered into the blankets, unsure if Ari heard you. He pressed a firm kiss to the center of the mark he’d left, nuzzling it a little, and you could feel the smile on his mouth, matching the sated curve of your lips.

After a few long moments, Ari rolled off you, pulling his cock from your ass and making you whimper at the loss. You were so wrung out, you couldn’t move, not even to lift your head to see what he was doing. 

Ari smacked your ass lightly, chuckling under his breath at your broken groan while he grabbed a towel from a cabinet in the back of the truck cab and used it to clean the dripping come from your ass. He rolled you over and did the same with your cunt. 

Once you were clean enough, he tossed the towel into another compartment where he kept his dirty laundry, then settled back on the bed, caging your body in between his large form and the wall.

Ari opened his arms to you, just like he did every night, and you scrambled into them as quickly as your exhausted body could manage. Already, his breaths were evening out as he let his own tiredness begin to claim him. 

It wasn’t until he spoke that you realized he’d forgotten to do something he normally did before going to sleep. 

“Not gonna collar you,” Ari rumbled, his words a little slurred with sleep already. “But if you try to run, baby,” he went on, his tone firm, a dark warning in his voice. “There won’t be anywhere I can’t find you, and you won’t like it if I have to remind you who you belong to.”

A pleasant warmth curled through your core, making you shiver a little as you remembered all the depraved things you’d done for your trucker. You weren’t sure, but you suspected there wasn’t anything Ari could do to you that you wouldn’t enjoy. 

But your thoughts soured and you frowned as you realized that he still thought you were going to run. It occurred to you that maybe he just liked threatening you—and there was plenty of evidence between your thighs proving you certainly liked it—but it made you sad to think Ari was giving you a chance to show he could trust you and he still seemed worried you’d run.

Pressing closer, you hooked your thigh over Ari’s hip, pressing your cunt against his soft tummy, your messy clit brushing against the happy trail of hair leading down to his cock. Tilting your face up, you let your lips ghost over the sensitive skin on Ari’s throat, just below where his beard ended. 

“I don’t wanna run, daddy,” you confessed, your words barely more than a whisper. “I wanna stay with you.”

A chuckle rumbled in Ari’s chest, his arms wrapping more tightly around your body to squeeze you to his chest. “That’s cause you know exactly what you’re good for, don’t you, baby?” he rumbled sleepily, his hands groping lazily at your ass and thighs, kneading your tired muscles more than copping a feel. “You’re good for being the dirty, slutty little cock whore to a mean, filthy trucker—you were made to be mine.”

“I was, daddy,” you murmured, brushing butterfly kisses to Ari’s throat, slipping your tongue past your lip to trace the tip along the silver chain of his Star of David necklace. “I was made for keeping your cock warm and being a perfect little fucktoy for my king.” 

“Mm,” a pleased sound rumbled in Ari’s chest, his arms loosening as he relaxed, letting sleep claim him. You thought it was because he was so close to falling asleep that he let his next words slip out. “Picking you up was the best decision I ever made.” 

You buried your smile in his beard, whispering, “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, Ari.” And you meant it. Ari hadn’t abducted you, he’d saved you. And you decided you’d spend all your time showing him how thankful you were for him.

You fell asleep in your trucker’s arms smiling, excited to see what he did when he woke up to find that you hadn’t run away. Maybe then Ari would believe that you wanted to be his, that you’d accepted the life he offered. You wanted Ari to know that he was your king and you were prepared to be his willing, eager little cock whore for the rest of your life. 

trucker king part 1

HES SO MEAN SO NASTY SO ROUGH AND I NEED THIS MAN IDCC. THE SOFTNESS AT THE END DID IT FOR ME. I NEED MORE OF TRUCKER ARI. tysm for this masterpiece 🫡

trucker king

pairing: dark trucker!ari levinson x female reader

summary: after you're stranded on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere, you're left to hitchhike home. when you're picked up by a truck driver who expects to be repaid for his kindness, your only option is to give him what he wants—and he doesn't want money.

warnings: 18+ content (minors do not interact!!!), smut, dubcon/noncon (parts of this fic definitely lean more toward noncon), abduction, coercion, sex as payment, piv sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, rough oral sex (m receiving), sadism/masochism, choking, breathplay, face slapping, dacryphilia, painplay, rough body play, cock warming, come play, finger sucking, dirty talk, heavy degradation, some praise, possessive sex, possessive behavior, pet names (sweetheart, baby), tiny bit of aftercare, stockholm syndrome, a mean hot man—i think that's everything but if i forgot to tag something, please please please let me know!!

word count: 7.5k

a/n: as some of y'all may have seen, i originally wrote this fic as a short-ish (for me) drabble in response to an ask, but i really enjoyed writing trucker!ari so i wanted to expand it into a full fic. it's probably one of the darkest fics i've written but it's still kind of soft? idk! i can never go full dark i guess! anyway i hope this lives up to expectations 😅 please enjoy some filthy trucker!ari smut!!!

You were in trouble—more than you knew—from the moment the massive, pitch black truck pulled over on the side of the road where you’d been hitchhiking for more than an hour. You never could’ve known exactly how much your life would change when you got into the truck, but looking back, you didn’t know if you’d have done anything differently. And anyway, it wasn’t like you’d ever had much of a choice. 

The truck was intimidating from the moment you saw it, even though it must’ve been a quarter mile down the road. You’d heard it first, turning around at the sound and sticking your hand out, curled in a fist with your thumb pointed skyward, before you could let your fear stop you from being saved. Your other arm was curled around your body, your shoulders hunched against the frigid wind.

It was cold on the side of the road, the afternoon sun having dipped behind the tree line, leaving you in a too-short skirt, a tight top and a flimsy jacket. It wasn’t an outfit meant to be walking alongside the road in the middle of nowhere, but your day had taken a turn when you and your boyfriend had gotten into the fight to end all fights and he’d dumped you, figuratively, before literally dumping you out of his car. It was more than a 40-minute drive home from where he’d left you. 

Not that your apartment was much of a home. But at least it had four walls to keep the wind out, even if the cold seeped in far too easily and you didn’t have much money to spend on heating. Which was why you spent as much time as you could at your boyfriend’s place an hour away. But after your fight—and after he never came back to make sure you got home safely—you knew he was no longer your boyfriend. Good riddance.

Except that left you alone on the side of the road, in the middle of nowhere, your skimpy clothing the only protection against the cold afternoon, and no carshares in the area. You’d already waited an hour, but none of the apps would accept your trip request. So you’d started walking, holding your hand out to try hitchhiking when a car would pass, but no one stopped.

Not until the big black truck.

It was so high off the ground, you couldn’t see the driver at first, not until he leaned over and pushed the passenger side door open in an obvious invitation. A warm gust of heat hit you, and you shuddered in delight, taking a step closer before you could think better of it.

Then your eyes fell on the truck driver and your first thought was how attractive he was. The man appeared older than you—in his late-30s or early 40s at most. His brown hair was longish, curling at the nape of his neck and swept back from his face like he ran his hand through it often. He had a full brown beard, which only served to highlight the bright blue eyes that were raking over your body. 

“Where ya going, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice a low gravelly rumble like he didn’t use it much. You supposed that made sense, since he was a trucker who didn’t appear to have any companions sharing the cab of his rig. 

You silently debated how safe it was to get into this stranger’s truck. You naively mistook his handsomeness for kindness, and though you had no idea how long he’d been driving, his eyes were bright and alert. He didn’t look tired in the least, so it seemed likely he could get you home without incident. What should’ve raised a warning flag was the fact that the trucker looked very interested in you, his sparkling eyes and too-eager smile hiding a depraved hunger.

Making up your mind to trust the man, you took a tentative step closer, placing a hand on the door as you answered him, giving the trucker the address of a take-out place near your apartment. You might’ve been desperate for a ride, but you knew better than to give a strange man your home address. If he got you to the restaurant, you could get some dinner, giving the trucker long enough to drive away so you could make sure he didn’t follow you home. It seemed like a foolproof plan.

The man nodded, his eyes trailing down your body as he gave the impression of thinking it over. His gaze lingered on the edge of your skirt, fluttering around your bare thighs in the wind. You didn’t like the way he was looking at you, but he agreed to give you a ride, so you pushed your uncertainty aside and climbed into the cab of the big rig. You felt the man’s eyes on your legs the whole time, getting the impression he was trying to catch a flash of what was under your skirt, but you ignored the uneasiness you felt. Maybe he was just making sure you didn’t fall as you lifted yourself to settle in the bucket seat.

When you’d clicked your seatbelt into place, the trucker pulled his rig back onto the road, introducing himself as Ari Levinson. You gave him your name distractedly, holding your hands to the truck’s vents in front of you that were blasting heat. A small sigh of relief slipped out as warmth began to seep into your bones, overcoming the chill in your body. Unzipping your jacket, you let yourself melt into the pleasure of being warm again.

All the while, you felt Ari’s gaze on you like a physical thing and looked over to see his watching you out of the corner of his eye. His eyes were a brilliant shade of blue, almost as bright as the sky when the sun had been out. But with the sun quickly setting, shadows fell across Ari’s face. You weren’t certain what he was thinking, but when his gaze dropped to your tits, heat flushed through your body, pebbling your nipples beneath your thin top. You hadn’t worn a bra and you were certain he could see, so you crossed your arms over your chest, hoping to avoid giving him any ideas. 

“So, sweetheart,” Ari rumbled, turning his gaze back to the road. Your eyes followed his and your face twisted in a confused frown.

He was turning the truck onto the interstate, which didn’t seem right. There was no direct way to get you home from the interstate, it would be a much longer route. You weren’t scared—yet—but you were still puzzling over how he was planning to get you home when he continued talking.

“How’re you gonna repay me for my kindness,” Ari asked, cutting a cruel smile at you. “You’re not exactly on my way to where I’m goin’.”

With a start of surprise, you began pawing through your little purse. “I—I don’t have any cash,” you stammered, feeling embarrassment flood through your body. “But I can Venmo you—or CashApp, or whatever you want,” you offered quickly, pulling out your phone and brandishing it like a credit card. It was the only thing you could offer. Or so you thought. 

Ari snorted, reaching over and plucking the phone from your hand easily, tossing it onto the floor in the back. You turned and were a little surprised to find not really a back seat, but a little compartment holding a mini-fridge, a small counter and a cot. You supposed it made sense, a trucker would need somewhere to sleep properly so they could rest, but you didn’t expect it to look so…cozy. There was a thick, flannel-covered blanket on the bed, and the compartment looked pretty clean and tidy.

Ari’s chuckle dragged your attention back to him, the sound low and somehow dirty, making you squirm in your seat as a new kind of heat began simmering between your thighs. You eyed the trucker warily, taking in his big body—somehow knowing he’d tower over you if you were both standing. His broad shoulders were encased in a soft-looking red and brown flannel, his thick thighs spread on his seat, brown work pants disappearing down to where his booted feet worked the pedals.

“Whatever I want, huh, sweetheart?” Ari asked, repeating your words to him. There was an undercurrent of taunting condescension in the way he said the pet name and you wondered distractedly if he’d always said it like that—like he was smirking, knowing something you didn’t. 

You realized your mistake and tried to backpedal your offer, but one of Ari’s hands was already dropping to his lap, his fingers expertly working open the button and fly of his pants. “That’s not—I mean, I didn’t mean whatever you want.” Your stuttering protests cut off on a gasp when Ari reached inside his pants and pulled out his semihard cock. 

He was big, and so thick an involuntary whimper escaped your lips. Even half hard, he was intimidatingly large, and you couldn’t help thinking there was no way he’d fit—not in your mouth…or any of your other holes. The thought made your clit twitch and your pussy throb, and you couldn’t pull your eyes away when Ari took himself in hand and gave his cock a quick stroke, working himself to full hardness while you watched. Despite your shock, wetness began gathering in the slit between your thighs.

“C’mon, sweetheart, this dick’s not gonna suck itself,” Ari taunted crudely, using his fist to shake his cock at you. 

Still, you didn’t move, your brain struggling to catch up with the situation you’d gotten yourself into. It seemed surreal, like you’d somehow stumbled into an old porno. This kind of thing didn’t happen in real life. Right?

Ari’s eyes flashed with irritation and his mouth twisted in a cruel snarl. “Did you really think I picked you up out of the goodness of my heart?” he asked, his words dripping with patronizing condescension while you just stared at him in shock. “No,” he bit out, his expression morphing into a glare. “I picked you up because you look like a girl who belongs on her knees sucking cock—now get to it.”

Even Ari’s growled command wasn’t enough to snap you out of the frozen shock you seemed stuck in. You could still barely believe he was seriously demanding that you suck his cock in exchange for a ride. You weren’t exactly opposed to it—the thought of trying to fit Ari’s big cock in your mouth was turning you on—but it still seemed like something you shouldn’t eagerly jump to do.

Apparently, you were taking a little too long to wrap your head around the situation because Ari let go of his cock and reached his big hand out toward you, snagging you around the back of the neck. His fingers dug into the sides, holding you tightly by your scruff like one might handle a disobedient kitten. Before you could raise your hands to stop him, Ari shoved your face down into his lap until your nose bumped against his cock. 

His musky scent filled your senses, drool pooling around your tongue as you thought again about how difficult it’d be to work his thick cock inside your hot mouth. But then you remembered Ari was a strange man, and who knew where his cock had been. His scent was pungent, like he hadn’t bathed in at least a day, and though it made your head a little fuzzy, you finally realized the predicament you were in. 

Pushing your hands against the smooth leather of his seat, you tried to shove yourself up and away from Ari’s cock, but he was too strong. Instead of giving you even an inch, Ari’s big hand squeezed the back of your neck in a warning. Your arms flailed, your hands reaching blindly for something, anything to hit him with, but his truck cab was so tidy, you couldn’t find anything. The most you managed was to undo your seatbelt in a desperate bid to escape, but that only helped Ari push your face deeper into his lap, until your nose was brushing against his balls.

“You better worship my dick like I’m your goddamned king, cock slut,” Ari growled, tilting your head to the side so your lips pressed against the underside of his length. You held them closed, trying to breathe through your nose, but his scent was everywhere, making your body warm, your traitorous slit getting wetter. “Or I’ll toss you out of my rig in the worst neighborhood I can find,” he snarled cruelly. “You’ll be wishing you sucked my cock like a good little whore when your holes are being destroyed by a buncha dirty strangers.”

His words were so mean, you let out a little whimper. But the threat worked—the picture Ari painted with so few words scared you enough that you opened your mouth, pressing your lips to the base of his cock and licking. He tasted just as musky as he smelled, and you felt a gush of wetness flood your panties. You squeezed your thighs together and hoped he never found out just how wet his rough, cruel treatment was making you. 

“There ya go,” Ari purred, his tone turning on a dime. His grip on your neck loosened, but didn’t let up entirely. He just gave you the leeway to kiss your way up to the tip of his cock. When you finally wrapped your lips around the thick head of his dick, though, Ari’s patience grew thin and he shifted his hand to the back of your head, pushing you down on his cock until you gagged. “Fuck yeah,” he groaned, the sound obscene in the quiet of the truck cab. “This is what you were made for, cock whore, choking on my big dick.” 

Your hands rested on Ari’s thigh, your nails digging in, though his brown work pants were too thick for there to be much bite to your grip. There was nothing to stop him from pushing you down further on his cock, until the tip was battering against the back of your throat. It hurt—your lips were spread so wide around his thick length, the corners feeling like they might split, and your jaw already ached. Still, he pushed against your tightening throat until the head of his dick shoved past the clenching muscles. 

“Fuck, that’s it, let me in, cock slut,” Ari grunted in pleasure. He shifted his hips, lifting them up and repositioning himself so he was sprawled in his seat, his legs splayed as wide as they could go. “Don’t pretend it’s your first time chocking on a cock, sweetheart, we both know you were made for this.” 

You couldn’t see anything except the brown of his pants, but even that began to swim as tears pooled in your eyes. Instinctively, you tried to lift your head, fighting against Ari’s hold, and he let you rise a few inches, enough for his cock to slip from your throat to rest on your tongue. A tremor of relief worked through you, but then Ari pushed you back down, groaning when your throat closed over his cockhead, making you gag and squeeze around him. 

“Fuck, take it—take my filthy trucker cock in that tight little throat of yours,” he growled, forcing you into a rhythm of bobbing on his cock, shoving you down on his length until he pushed into your throat. Drool was spilling past your lips, coating your chin and soaking Ari’s cock down to his balls. You were thankful for it, because at least it made the slide of his cock into your throat a little easier. “Suck me, cock whore,” Ari bit out, his fingers flexing against your head, digging into you with a promise that he could be rougher if he wanted to.

You tried to do as he said, hollowing out your cheeks as you sucked hard on Ari’s cock, hoping the faster you got him off, the faster he’d let you go. You were gratified when he groaned loudly, but instead of going easier on you, it made Ari meaner, and even rougher. His fingers dug into your skull more harshly as he forced your head up and down on his cock, pushing you down until your nose was pressed to his thigh and you could barely breathe, his cockhead thrusting punishingly into your throat. You couldn’t help it, you started to cry, your sobs choked by Ari’s cock.

“Oh fuck yeah,” Ari groaned viciously. “Cry for me, baby, you look so much prettier crying on my cock.” His cock twitched in your throat and you prayed he was getting close even as the tears fell harder. His tone was almost warm as he grunted, “Makes me so fucking hard when you cry on my cock, baby.” 

A small blush of pride wormed through your heart at Ari’s praise. After the mean names he’d called you and the cruel words he’d used, it felt amazingly good to be praised. So you clung to his thigh, tamping down on the instinct to wipe your tears away, and let yourself cry harder while Ari fucked your throat. 

It wasn’t long before Ari’s cock was jerking in your mouth, his precum leaving a salty taste on the back of your tongue. Without warning, he shoved your head down hard, until your nose was pressed so tight to his thigh you couldn’t breathe. Then his cock began spurting in your throat, his come dripping down into your belly. 

“Drink it all, come slut,” Ari growled, his fingers digging into your skull hard enough to bruise as he held you down. “Drink all my filthy trucker come.” His words were loose and languid, almost like he was slurring on pleasure. 

You followed his order obediently, swallowing down every drop of Ari’s come even as your lungs protested. Ari seemed to like the way your throat tightened around his cock as you swallowed, grunting and groaning while you milked a few more spurts from his length. 

Finally, when black was beginning to creep into the edges of your vision, Ari let you up enough that you could breathe through your nose and through your mouth around his softening cock. You expected him to let you pull off his cock completely, but Ari’s hand was firm. Tilting your head, you caught Ari’s gaze out of the corner of your eye, giving him a pleading, confused look.

An arrogant, sated grin was stretched across Ari’s handsome face, and he pet you gently with the hand holding you down. “Don’t give me that look, baby,” he purred at you, his tone turning condescending once again as he tilted his head to the side and asked, “Did you really think I’d let you go?” His hand shifted to cup your cheek, his thumb wiping up some of the drool from your chin and pushing it into your mouth beside his softening cock. “Your pretty holes were made to worship a man’s cock like he’s your king,” he said, smirking. “And since no one else has stepped up, then I’ll be your king.”

Your mind flitted back to your boyfriend—your ex—and it occurred to you to protest. But he had been the one to abandon you on the side of the road, to leave you stranded to the whims of a man like Ari Levinson. If nothing else, there was an enticing simplicity to what Ari offered. All you had to do was worship him and he’d take care of you. Without thinking about it much, you let yourself give in, your eyes fluttering closed as you melted into his touch, giving Ari your submission. 

Ari chuckled, the sound low and decadent to your ears, reminding you of just how wet you were. You’d made a mess of your panties, and you wanted to reach a hand between your thighs to slake the throbbing need that burned in your pussy, but you didn’t dare. You weren’t sure what Ari would do to you if you did.

“That’s a good cock whore,” he cooed, his tone more than a little condescending, humor making his voice warm and almost sweet. He patted your cheek then lifted his hand from your face; he didn’t move it to the back of your neck or head. You had to assume he set it back on the wheel, but you didn’t try to lift off his soft length. “Cockwarm me while I drive, baby, and if you’re good, I’ll show you how I reward obedient little fucktoys,” Ari rumbled, his voice drifting down to you in the quiet truck cab.

Humming in acknowledgement, you laid your cheek on Ari’s thick thigh, enjoying the way his hard muscle shifted beneath your soft skin. You were a little uncomfortable in your position, laying across the empty center of the truck cab, and distractedly wondered if it might be more comfortable to sit on the floor between your seats, but you didn’t have the energy to move. Instead, you let your mind wander, drifting deeper into a warm fuzziness as you held Ari’s cock in your mouth. 

You didn’t know how long you stayed like that, but it must’ve been hours, because the sky was full dark and the moon had risen by the time Ari pulled his massive truck into a service station. His hand gripped you around the back of the neck and he pulled you none-too-gently off his cock, pushing you back into your seat. He didn’t say anything as he hopped out, so you stayed where you were, straightening your jacket over your shoulders.

Ari walked around the truck and opened your door, grabbing your arm and pulling you down to the ground. Your knees gave out when your feet hit the asphalt parking lot, but before you could fall, Ari wedged his hand under your bicep, holding you up until you could stand on your own. It took a moment, but you finally got your legs to work and your first distracted thought was that you were right—Ari did tower over you at his full height. Seeing just how much bigger he was than you made a pleasant shiver race down your spine, more wetness gathering between your thighs. 

Once Ari was confident you wouldn’t fall over, he started dragging you in the direction of the service station. He pushed you into the one-room bathroom, following you in and locking the door behind him. Ari crossed his arms over his broad chest, his mouth pressed into a firm line framed by his thick beard, as he nodded to the toilet. You flinched when you realized what he expected you to do. 

It occurred to you to protest, but the cruel glint in Ari’s eyes told you that you wouldn’t like what he’d do if you did. “Can you turn around?” you asked weakly, hunching your shoulders in defeat and curling your arms around yourself protectively. You dropped your eyes to the floor, embarrassment flooding your body at even having to ask. 

Ari huffed a pitiless laugh, but pivoted on his feet, giving you his broad back. Relief and no small amount of gratitude flooded through you as you scurried to the toilet, covering the seat in toilet paper—thanking the service station gods there was plenty enough. You hooked your fingers in your panties, sneaking glances at Ari to make sure he wasn’t peaking and quickly pushed them down your thighs, sitting down to pee. Thankfully, that was all you had to do, and the fear of him turning around before you were done made it easy to finish your business and flush as quickly as you could.

However, when you stood and began pulling up your panties, Ari grunted, getting your attention.

“Don’t put your panties back on,” he growled, turning around suddenly. You wrenched your hands away from what you’d been doing so your skirt could fall and cover you, but you were certain he’d caught a flash of your ass from the way his blue eyes darkened. “You won’t be needing them tonight, fucktoy, so why don’t ya give ‘em here?” His words sounded like a question, but you knew they were an order from the mocking tenor of his tone. 

Watching him warily, you pushed your panties down to your ankles, bending over with your ass angled away from him to pull them free from around your shoes. Keeping your head down, unable to stomach the hungry way he stared at you—especially since it prompted a ravenous twisting desire deep in your core—you crossed the bathroom, only getting close enough to place the scrap of fabric in the trucker’s massive palm.

You didn’t think it could get any worse, but Ari turned the panties over so he could see the gusset, the traitorous wetness glistening in the fluorescent light of the bathroom. Ari chuckled. “Oh, baby,” he rumbled, his tone mocking but pleased all the same. “You really are a natural cock whore aren’t you?” he asked tauntingly. 

Without any ounce of shame, Ari ran a finger through the wetness you’d left behind in your panties, spreading it around and making even more of a mess of the fabric. Your body heated, embarrassment weaving through with a thrumming need pulsing in your core that wanted him to be touching you, not your panties. A soft whine worked up in the back of your throat, but you bit your lip, holding it back.

“Christ, your panties are soaked,” he taunted you, shooting you a mocking grin before asking, “Ya like sucking a filthy trucker’s cock this much, huh, little slut?” When you kept your lips pressed closed, refusing to answer his dirty question, he chuckled again to himself, making even more shame flare through your body. “Mm yeah, I think I’m gonna have a lotta fun with you, fucktoy.”

Heat flamed in your cheeks as embarrassment, and no small amount of arousal, made you squirm. You tried to turn away, but Ari’s free hand shot out, wrapping around the front of your throat, his fingers digging lightly into the sides as he yanked you forward. Tilting your face up to look at him, you found Ari’s eyes glimmering in the bright fluorescent light, a cruel grin curving his mouth. 

“Don’t pretend you’re not enjoying this, baby,” Ari cooed the pet name condescendingly. His gaze dropped down to your thighs in time to catch you pressing them together against the desperate ache in your core. He laughed huskily at you. Before letting you go, Ari pushed his finger into your mouth, the one he’d smeared through the wetness on your panties. “Clean up your mess, cock whore, show your king what a good toy you can be.”

You held his gaze, glaring weakly at him as you licked your musky arousal from his skin. But there wasn’t much fight left in you, and it was so much easier to simply give in, cleaning his finger obediently and sucking on it when you were done. Ari let you continue for a moment longer, then pulled his finger free, reeling you in with his hand around your throat until you stood even closer to him—close enough to feel the warmth of his body heat, which made you want to curl even further into him.

Instead, you stared up into Ari’s handsome face, wondering what he was going to do next. To your surprise, Ari ducked down, capturing your lips in a kiss. Except, it wasn’t so much a kiss as a plundering, a pillaging of your mouth. He thrust his tongue into you with the arrogance you’d come to expect from him. The trucker took what was his—and your mouth, just like the rest of you, was his dominion. 

You didn’t fight him, you swayed into him. Your fingers fumbled in the soft flannel covering his firm chest, twisting in the fabric and clinging to the man who’d all but abducted you. You weren’t stupid, you knew he’d driven you much farther away from home than you’d been when he picked you up, but he kissed you like you were something special. He might call you a toy and a whore, but you were his toy, his whore. He’d wanted you enough to take you and there was something heady and flattering about that knowledge—no matter how fucked that train of thought might be. 

So you let yourself revel in Ari’s kiss, in the bite of his teeth and the rasp of his beard; you let yourself enjoy it. You gave yourself permission to crave more from the trucker that had picked you up and taken you into his life.

Just as suddenly as he’d kissed you, Ari pulled away, leaving you stumbling as he shoved your panties in the pocket of his pants while moved over to the toilet. You gave him your back as he pissed, taking the time to wash your hands at the sink. It was only once he was done, edging you out of the way so he could wash his own hands, that you realized you’d had the perfect opportunity to run and you simply…hadn’t. 

Ari’s hand wrapped tightly around the back of your neck before he led you back out into the night, the grip feeling more like a comfort than a leash. As you walked together across the crowded parking lot to Ari’s rig, you rationalized to yourself that you hadn’t tried to escape because your phone and wallet were still in his truck. You couldn’t have gotten far without them. Besides, he was being nice enough.

Instead of walking you around to the passenger side of the truck, Ari brought you to the driver’s side door, opening it and tilting his head to indicate you should climb inside. 

You’d already learned your lesson about hesitating when Ari issued an order, even if it was a nonverbal one, so you scrambled up, climbing onto your knees on the driver’s seat. You bent forward, reaching for the passenger seat with the intent of climbing into it, but you stilled when you felt a gust of cold air against your most sensitive place. Dread and desire warred in your body, the sound of Ari’s low groan pushing you toward the latter.

“Christ, baby, this is what you’ve been hiding from me under that slutty little skirt of yours?” he asked, his voice a low rumble that made you shiver. His hands slid up the backs of your thighs until his palms rested on your ass, pushing your skirt up around your waist. Instinctively, you arched your back, bending further to show yourself off to the filthy trucker. 

With his thumbs, Ari pulled your pussy lips apart, baring you wholly to his gaze, a low whistle of appreciation leaving him as he watched your little hole clench around nothing. A whimper escaped your lips even though you were biting them hard enough to draw blood. It was humiliating the way he was staring at your naked pussy, but you couldn’t stop the wetness from dripping through your folds. 

“Oh fuck, baby, that’s a pretty cunt ya got,” he rumbled, his tone going gravelly as his own desire ratcheted up. “Though it’d look even prettier taking my cock.” 

Ari traced the edge of your hole with his thumbs, and it was so good but not nearly good enough for your desire. You needed his thick cock barreling into your cunt, burying inside you until he rearranged your guts. God you needed him, his roughness and his cruelness and his meanness. But he seemed content to tease your pussy lightly with his fingers—until a desperate whine squeezed past your lips. That snapped him out of whatever daze he was in. 

“I think it’s time I show you how good fucktoys get rewarded,” Ari grunted, climbing up into the cab of his truck after you, wedging his knees on either side of your legs on the seat while he pulled his cock free from his pants. His big body curled over yours, his mouth right next to your ear as he growled, “Scream and cry all you want, cock slut, it’ll only make your king come harder in your tight cunt.”

With that, Ari slammed inside you, burying his massive cock balls-deep in your pussy with one brutal thrust. A scream tore free from your throat as he speared your tight hole, stretching you more than you’d ever been stretched before. The sensation was so intense, it felt like he was splitting you in half. Thankfully, you were wet enough that it eased some of the stinging pain, but you reacted instinctively, trying to crawl away from the big man surrounding you.

Except there was no way Ari was letting you go. The pain from that first thrust had made your pussy clench down around his thick length so hard, it had wrung a pleasured grunt from him. His fingers dug harshly into your hips, holding you tight against his body and preventing you from escaping his throbbing cock. A pathetic whimper slipped from your lips and your hands scrabbled at the passenger seat, trying to pull yourself away from him. 

Instead of giving you any chance to escape, Ari started fucking you properly, his thick cock stretching your tight hole so much it wrenched a sob from your mouth. Fat tears rolled down your cheeks as you screamed and cried while Ari fucked you like a beast. His hands were everywhere, roaming all over your body, ripping your jacket and top off so his calloused palms could grope every inch of your naked flesh. His fingers pinched your nipples, making you cry harder, a pleased groan slipping from his mouth and directly into your ear. 

It occurred to you that you were being very loud and though Ari’s truck was parked in the back corner of the service station lot, you weren’t that far away from other people. Anyone could walk by and see Ari fucking you like a bitch in heat, using your body like the cock whore he accused you of being while you screamed through the pain and pleasure. Shame burned through your body and you bit your lip, silencing the sounds that had been spilling from your mouth unabashedly. 

But Ari didn’t like that. “Don’t get quiet on me now, fucktoy,” Ari growled in your ear, wrapping one of his hands around the front of your neck, holding your face braced with his thumb and forefinger. Then, without warning, he slapped you across the cheek, making you cry out in shock. Your pussy clamped down around his cock and he chuckled. “Oh does my cock slut like a little pain?” he cooed, his tone a condescending taunt. He slapped you again, and that time you moaned, even as a wave of fresh tears splashed down your cheeks. 

The pleasured sound falling from your lips seemed to snap whatever restraint had been holding Ari back from showing you his true self, because he set upon your body like a feral beast. His hand wrapped around your throat and choked you tightly, fingers digging into the sides to restrict your airflow. His other hand reached beneath your body to slap and pinch and grope your tits, his fingers rough and heedless of whether he was going to leave bruises or other marks on your skin. All the while, the pain and pleasure surged through your body, pushing you to the brink of what you knew would be a devastating release. 

Ari laughed in your ear when he felt your pussy rippling around his cock. “You’re gonna come on my cock, aren’t ya baby?” he asked with mocking condescension. He fucked you harder when all you did was sob in response, his voice going rough and gravelly in your ear. “You’re such a pathetic little fucktoy, so desperate for my big, mean cock to destroy your needy cunt.” His beard rasped against your cheek, the bite of it making you want more. “Fuck, I bet you’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you?” he growled, something like laughter in his voice. “Bet you’d let me do the grossest, most disgusting things to your body and thank me for it, huh?” He slapped your tits as he drove his cock into you mercilessly, proving his point.

All you could manage in response were garbled sounds of pleasure, moans and breathy whines mixing with your whimpers and cries. In that moment, you couldn’t think of anything you wouldn’t let Ari do to you—though you didn’t have much imagination for that kind of thing as he did—so you simply nodded in answer to his question.

A chuckle rumbled in Ari’s chest, but when he spoke, his voice was a commanding growl. “Thank me,” he ordered, his hand around your throat squeezing you in rhythmic pulses that had black creeping into the edges of your vision. “Thank your king for fucking you, for hurting you, for making you cry.”

“Th-thank you, thank you, Ari,” you gasped, your voice husky from screaming, your throat aching from his hand choking you. You tried to swallow, but couldn’t mange it, spluttering for a moment until Ari’s hand relented the tiniest bit. You sucked in a breath and babbled the first words that came to mind. “Thank you for hurting my pathetic body, thank you for making me cry, thank you for fucking my needy cunt—thank you, my king!” Your final words were a broken sob, pleasure overwhelming you as you balanced on the edge of your release.

“There’s a good cock whore,” Ari purred in your ear, clearly enjoying the way the honorific sounded in your desperate voice. “Now come on your king’s cock,” he commanded, using the flat of his fingers to slap your clit. The stinging pain swirled with the immense pleasure winding through your body. You didn’t stand a chance against Ari’s cruel hand slapping your clit and his harsh command.  

A sound halfway between a scream and a sob wrenched free from your mouth as you came, your body shaking uncontrollably as your eyes rolled back in your skull, your awareness blacking out for just a moment. Waves and waves of unending pleasure coursed through your body, so overwhelming it felt like you were floating in a sea of ecstasy. When you finally surfaced, Ari was still fucking your cunt, his voice turning rougher with his own nearing release. It took a moment to realize the sounds he was growling in your ear were words.

“You’re mine now, baby,” Ari was saying. “I’m your fucking king, and you’re my toy to use whenever I want.” His thrusts turned erratic as he rutted into you, your still pulsing cunt milking his cock for all your body was worth. “You were made for this, for being fucked and taking my come and keeping my cock warm,” he grunted, his breaths coming harsher as his beard rasped against your cheek. “I’m going to keep you right where you belong—with me.”

With a deep, rumbling groan, Ari shoved his cock deep in your cunt and came. His hand squeezed your throat so tightly, you nearly blacked out again, his fingers no doubt leaving bruises in the shape of his fingertips on your delicate neck. His other arm was wrapped under your hips, holding you flush against him as he emptied his balls into your pussy, grunting and growling the whole time his cock was twitching deep inside you. 

More than anything else he’d done, Ari coming deep in your cunt felt like a claiming, like he was showing you that your body no longer belonged to you. It belonged to him. He would do whatever he wanted with you, and you would thank him for it. It seemed a simple existence, and you were so tired, so sated, and so warm in Ari’s arms. It seemed so easy to submit to him—so you did.

Relief swept over you body and you sank into Ari’s hold. If it hadn’t been for his arms holding you up, you would’ve slumped to the floor. Instead, you felt him taking your weight into his hands, his beard brushing against your shoulder as he nuzzled your sweat-slick skin for a moment. If you weren’t mistaken, you could feel Ari brushing sweet little kisses to your shoulder blades and across your spine. A smile curved your lips. 

You felt one of Ari’s hands fumbling around his thighs but didn’t think much of it until he looped his belt around your throat. Your muscles were so tired, your eyes so heavy-lidded that you didn’t try to protest as he tightened it around your neck. It wasn’t tight enough to hurt or cut off your airflow, just enough that you’d never forget it was there. 

When he was done securing the belt around your throat, Ari dropped one last kiss to your shoulder, then smacked your ass lightly. “Get into the back,” he growled, spurring you to move. 

Despite your exhaustion, it was becoming instinctual to follow your trucker’s orders so you crawled forward, whimpering when you pulled off Ari’s cock, pausing as shudders wracked your body. You collapsed into the space between the front seats, weakly crawling into the back seat compartment. Ari followed you inside the rig, pulling his door closed and locking up the cab. 

“On the bed,” he ordered, his tone gruff but not unkind. You scrambled up onto the cot, kicking your shoes off before pulling them onto the blanket. Ari grumbled, pulling your socks off, then tugging your skirt down over your thighs, depositing it on the floor along with his flannel. He left his pants on, which he’d pulled up and refastened, but his broad chest was clad in nothing but a thin, white undershirt. 

You could see a smattering of dark brown chest hair beneath Ari’s shirt and you wanted to rub your cheek against his pecs. You were so tired and he looked so warm, you just wanted to cuddle into him, take comfort in his massive body. Even if he’d used it to hurt you, he’d made you feel so good, too. It was easier to think about the good than the bad.

You didn’t know what expression your face was making, but when Ari got a look at it, he chuckled. It wasn’t a cruel sound for once, but warm and a little pleased. It made you smile softly. 

Before he joined you on the bed, Ari pulled some thin rope from a toolbox beneath the cot. He cut off a short length that couldn’t have been more than three feet. You watched him curiously as he tied one end to a belt loop on his pants. You understood a moment later when he tied the other around the metal belt buckle resting in the hollow of your throat. The rope was your leash, and Ari was ensuring you weren’t going to run away while he slept. 

Even though his intention was clear, Ari ducked down until his eyes were level with yours. “Don’t try to escape while I’m sleeping,” he warned, his voice low and mean as he went on, “Because I will track you down, and you won’t like how I punish disobedient fucktoys, d’you hear me?” He tugged on the rope to prove his point, but it wasn’t necessary, you were already nodding. 

You couldn’t find your tongue or the words to tell Ari that you weren’t going to run away from him. He was your king, you’d submitted to him, the rope wasn’t necessary to prevent your escape because you weren’t even going to try. But you still didn’t protest it because a part of you was comforted by the crude leash. It meant that Ari couldn’t leave you either. It meant he couldn’t leave you on the side of the road and drive off without you. It meant he was really keeping you. 

Ari seemed to read your thoughts easily on your face and he pressed a smacking kiss to your lips that felt like a reward. Then, without anymore discussion, he stood up. “Lay down,” he commanded.

You stretched out on your side against the back wall of the compartment, and Ari climbed into the bed with you. To your surprise, he opened his arms to you, and—even though it wasn’t explicitly an order—you eagerly fell into them, letting him wrap you up against his broad chest. He pulled a blanket over the two of you, and you sighed contentedly.

Perhaps you should’ve thought about planning a getaway, but in that moment, you couldn’t see a way out of Ari’s truck, let alone any way to escape him entirely. Besides, you didn’t want to. He might’ve been mean and rough, and a little cruel, but he had moments of softness. You didn’t have much of a choice, so you decided to choose him. 

After all, he’d taken you, he’d chosen you. All you had to do was submit to him and accept that he was your life now. 

So you did.

nomad steve is a big fat fuckin MUNCH. idc idc idc. nobody can change my mind. that man eats pussy for breakfast, lunch and dinner. he is STARVED.

you wake up? his head is in between your thighs. your working? he wants you to sit on his face while you do it. your doing the dishes? best believe that man is on his knees tongue deep inside your pussy desperate to have you cream all over his face. making comments like

“you just looked so good baby i couldn’t help it, had to get a taste of you”

“you like it when daddy sucks on your clit while you finish your chores? yeah? fuckin dirty girl”

“fuck honey, cum in daddy’s mouth, come on give it to me”

“pussy tastes like fuckin heaven”

one thing he does not stand for is hovering. when he tells you to sit on his face, he means sit on it. he’ll be grabbing your hips, pulling you down onto his face, his rough beard rubbing against your thighs while his tongue explores your dripping heat and you know damn well he eats it in the morning so he can smell your pussy on his facial hair during the day, his tongue darting out to lick over his moustache, savouring the taste of your juices.

your spread missionary as he suckles and nibbles on your clit, his fingers fucking into you at a desperate pace, missing the taste of your cream even though he’s already had you twice today, his mouth opening wide as you writhe and squirt on his tongue, watching him as he moans and grunts, his hips rocking into the mattress beneath him as he fills his boxers with hot n sticky ropes of cum

“jesus christ” he breathes, “got me cumming in my pants like a damn teenager sweet girl, thats how fuckin good your pussy tastes.”

If you see this on your dashboard, reblog this, NO MATTER WHAT and all your dreams and wishes will come true.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧'𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dark!Steve Rogers x naive!Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: VERY DARK ELEMENTS, noncon, extremely rough smut, daddy kink, captain kink, age gap (Steve is very into the age gap), MAJOR size kink, no seriously Steve is HUGE, misogyny, loss of virginity, mentions of blood (heavy mentions), mean Steve (seriously, he has no soul and is very mean, honestly unhinged), anal play, oral (f receiving), innocence kink, naive reader, 18+ ONLY, NO MINORS. MINORS DNI.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Even Captain America deserves a reward after an intense, grueling mission.

𝐀/𝐍: Here we go! 16.3k words. Written very quickly. Not edited so please be forgiving. Also I don't have much knowledge on Shield and all that, so yeah! Final warning to PLEASE read the warnings! Anyways, enjoy!

“The girl’s ready, Captain.”

Steve nods at the SHIELD agent tersely, “She’s in my room?”

“Yes, sir. And all your specifications have been followed.”

“Good. You’re dismissed.”

The agent bows his head before leaving the office, and Steve finds himself pacing. He often paced after gruelling missions, as if trying to get all the leftover adrenaline out. Tonight had been particularly challenging; a local university under threat from HYDRA. Thousands of screaming staff and students, the air painted with gunshots and screams of chaos. But Steve’s team had come to the rescue. Just like they always did.

His team all had different ways of dealing with it, the trauma and evil they saw every day. Clint had his family to go home to, and some middle-of-nowhere farmhouse that Steve would’ve found quaint if he’d given more of a fuck. Tony’s solution was alcohol – copious amounts of it. And maybe that would’ve been Steve’s fate too, stumbling out of a bar at three in the morning having no idea where he was, but of course, he had the serum to thank for avoiding him that. Natasha immersed herself in her friends, Sam partied a lot, Bruce locked himself up in his lab because God knew he was wrestling more demons than anyone else. Except maybe Bucky… But even Bucky had a girl to help him cope.

That left Steve. But Steve had this.

I deserve this. He thinks it to himself as he makes his way out of his office and down the hall toward the elevator. There are SHIELD agents scattered here and there, chattering mindlessly about the successful mission and how, thanks to the Avengers, there were no civilian deaths. But they all hush when they see him, parting like the Red Sea, their heads bowed in respect as he walks past them. The Captain. The hero. Their leader. He’s still in his suit, the shield still on his back and bloodied cuts decorating his face. Nevertheless, he’s the face of the Avengers. Everyone in this building looks up to him.

Everyone on the face of this Earth looks up to him.

And a few minutes later, when he gets off the elevator and to his private floor, walks over to his bedroom door and opens it, he finds a large pair of eyes looking up at him too.

You jump, the fear on your face so evident that Steve can almost smell it. Standing in the corner of his room as if you want to permeate through the wall or maybe disappear altogether. Your arms hug your body in a bid to hide it from whoever you thought was going to enter this room, but you seem to relax once you see that it’s him.

“C-Captain, it’s you! Oh, thank God!” Your shoulders sag in relief, although – much to Steve’s displeasure – you continue to cover your body with your arms, “I-I don’t know what happened, but there’s some bad people here, and they took me while I was being evacuated from the university, a-and they brought me here and they wouldn’t answer my questions and–”

Steve frowns as you drone on and on, talking about a mile a minute – a quality he doesn’t particularly care for in a woman. But his eyes drink you nevertheless. You look young – a college student, no doubt – but he finds he doesn’t mind that. In fact, it makes his cock harden, seeing how wide-eyed and naïve you look, a lot younger than him. A pretty face, and an attractive body too despite the fact that you seemed hell bent on hiding it from him.

“Put your arms down by your side.” He commands you, watching closely as you stop mid-sentence, your voice trailing off. He can tell you’re uncomfortable, confused, and probably tired out from fighting and arguing with his agents. But he knows already what’s going through your mind: that you’ll obey because it’s Captain America, and Captain America was a hero who always meant well. Hesitantly, slowly, your arms fall down to your sides.

Steve had very specific tastes, and his agents knew to follow his instructions to a tee. Which was why you stood before him, your body sheathed in the prettiest, most expensive vintage lingerie. All lacy and intricate, just how Steve liked it – white and silky, hugging your body like a second skin and accentuating your curves, making you look like half angel, half seductress. He’d long ago, in a different lifetime, pored over old pin-up magazines, just like any other boy his age would. He’d likened the white lingerie in the pictures to be what his innocent bride would wear the night he deflowered her. Back in the forties, back when he’d been a different man, a man who actually cared about trivial things like marriage and family. Years of war and fighting had beaten that out of him.

And yet, almost a century later, Steve still has a partiality for white, lacy lingerie.

After every mission (successful or not) SHIELD would bring him a girl in vintage lingerie. Always an unsuspecting girl who had no idea what she was being pulled into. They came in all sorts of varieties; crying, kicking, screaming, paralysed in fear when they realised the reason they were in his bedroom. But Steve deserved it, for every single sacrifice he’d made for his country, for the world – he deserved this one bit of pleasure. Bucky had his girl, Sam had his parties, Tony had his alcohol, Bruce had his lab… And Steve had this.

And it was the least you could do, the least all those girls before you could do, because hadn’t Steve saved you? Saved all of you? This was his payment. You were his reward.

“C-Captain?” He notices how you can’t help but stutter, and he finds it amusing despite the fact that he’s used to having this effect on women – especially immature college girls like you. You gesture down to your body, “Th-This isn’t how I was dressed – they put me in this, those bad guys! N-Now I don’t know where my clothes are, and, and…”

Once more, your voice trails off as Steve walks past you nonchalantly. He heads to the bathroom, making sure to leave the door open so he can keep an eye on you lest you try to escape. Not that you’d get very far – this whole floor was his and every lock required his facial recognition to open. In the past, other girls had tried to escape, and sometimes Steve enjoyed the chase. But tonight, he felt tense. He’d wanted to capture all the HYDRA agents but two of them had escaped. To Steve, that was failure, and failure made him tense. Angry. Frustrated. He needed someone submissive, obedient, quiet…

“C-Captain, I’m gonna be okay, aren’t I?” You ask, voice high-pitched and shaky, and Steve almost smirks. He stands in front of the sink, surveying the scratches on his face. They’d heal overnight, and once more he’d be the perfect face of the Avengers. The face of America. The face of hope, the face of good. If only they knew what went on behind his eyes, the thoughts he thought, the darkness behind the façade.

He washes his hands, observing the blood as it swirls down the drain of the sink.

“Sir… Captain… Is there a way I could call my family? They’ll be worried about me, and those people took my phone so I don’t–”

“Get on the bed.”

“H-Huh?”

“Get on the bed. I won’t repeat myself.”

Steve’s voice is soft, levelled, yet commanding. And he knows you’ll listen. He’s been over this with so many of the other girls brought in for him as a post-mission reward. You still trust him, he can see it in your eyes. You know him as the superhero you see on TV, where he’s all clean-cut and politically correct as he commands the hearts of millions through his motivational speeches and actions. And by the looks of it, you’re so naïve that he knows you haven’t yet figured out what “get on the bed” truly infers to.

And so you do, gingerly settling down on the edge of his king-sized bed, shaking like a little leaf but he can tell that you’re trying to keep a brave face as you look up at him, determined to trust the super-soldier that the whole country trusted. And breaking that trust, breaking that spirit that shone in your innocent eyes, that was the sweet release he needed tonight, or any other night after each mission made him grow more disillusioned. Breaking your trust, breaking your body so all of this was worth it.

Sometimes, Steve wonders when exactly he had changed. He remembers how plucky and optimistic he used to be. A little bit sardonic, a little bit sarcastic, but he really did have a heart of gold – at least that’s what people told him. Even after they’d dug him out from that iceberg, he’d still been that same guy. But that was years ago, and each day he grew more disillusioned with what he preached, what he stood for. He could never settle, never feel like he fully belonged in the world he kept risking his life to save over and over again. Even Bucky, who’d gone through so much, had managed to find fulfilment through finding love.

Steve, on the other hand, doesn’t think love exists.

What does exist is you… Sweet, quivering, innocent little you. The SHIELD agents know his tastes down to a tee, and physically, you’re everything he likes, everything he prefers. It’s nights like these when Steve really feels alive, when he snuffs out the innocence of some unsuspecting girl and reaps his reward for saving countless lives. He deserves this. God knows he deserves this.

“What’re you doing?” You whisper, eyes round as saucers as he reaches out to stroke your hair. He bristles slightly, annoyed by your persistant questions. You should know better – he was your superior after all. But you’d learn by the time the night was over, and so Steve resumes petting you, slipping his hand down to rub your cheek, feel your smooth skin under the rough callouses of his hand.

The same hand that had choked two or three HYDRA bastards to death earlier tonight.

“You will address me as Captain.” He says, dismantling his shield from his back and placing it on the floor against the bed. He follows your gaze, how your mouth drops open in awe despite how scared you are. His cock hardens, knowing you’re impressed by him. By his size, because he’s aware he looks even bigger in person than on the news – enough girls have told him that. And by the shield too, because it reflected his power, his status, everything that he supposedly stood for.

You clear your throat nervously, “S-Sorry, uh, Captain, I just, uh, I was wondering when you’d take me home,” you say the last few words quickly, as if you’re mouth’s dry and you’re rushing to get all your words out. “I n-need to get home, my parents will be worried about me, Captain, and I have homework–”

Steve almost snorts at that. Homework. You were even more innocent than he thought you were, if one of your biggest concerns was whether you’d get your homework done or not. And this naivete amuses him, enamours him, but most importantly, it gets him hard.

“You’ll be taken home tomorrow.” He informs you, his tone clipped and formal, clinical like a doctor informing his patient when they’d be discharged. He liked to keep it like that between him and his “rewards.” Steve didn’t believe in intimacy, and didn’t feel the need to waste kindness on you or any of the previous girls. He faked kindness and heroic optimism all day, it was only at night in the privacy of his quarters that he could shed all that away and allow his darkness to take over.

“T-Tomorrow? Why? Why not tonight? And why am I here, anyways? Everyone else was evacuated together!”

“Enough.” He says sternly, and you shrink back like a chastised child, or an injured puppy. He watches your lower lip as it juts out, and he wonders if you’ve done that on purpose as a way to appease him. He wouldn’t fall for it though, he was wise to women and all their cheap tricks they used to wrap weaker, lesser men around their fingers. Steve would never be one of those men. “You will not speak unless I give you permission.”

Your lower lip quivers, “I don’t understand…”

He sits down next to you, acutely aware of how much bigger he is than you. Leisurely, his eyes drink in your body now that he’s much closer to you. The bra pushes your breasts upwards so they spill out attractively over the creamy white lace of the lingerie, and he watches them rise up and down as you breathe heavily, probably trying to keep yourself from crying. He wishes you would cry – tears have always turned him on. But the night is young, and he knows he’ll see some tears soon, he always does.

“C-Captain, please, please help me! I’m so confused and I don’t know what’s going on, and I don’t know how I got into this outfit, I think they drugged me, and I’m scared, and I have homework, and I gotta go now, so pl– OW!”

Steve yanks you forward by your hair, till your face is inches from his, and he can practically smell your fear. Eyes as big as saucers look up at him, shining bright with unshed tears of both fear and pain. He loosens his grip slightly, despite the fact he isn’t holding you too tightly – but the serum gives him inhumane strength, and you’re just a weak little girl after all.

“Once again, I’m telling you not to speak without permission. Do not make me repeat myself one more time.”

You swallow harshly, bowing your head once he lets go of your hair. But your lips are now pressed tightly together, as if you’re hoping he’ll take you home if you shut up and listen. There’s still light in your eyes, you’re beginning to question him inwardly but you still trust him, Steve knows you do. And it’s not long now before he crushes that trust completely.

He sighs at your compliance, stroking your quivering bare arm, thrill shooting straight down to his cock because of how soft and smooth you are. He likes the juxtaposition between the two of you right now: you, so soft and small, so much younger than him, like a doll in your pretty lingerie that he’d picked out. And him, more than double your size, jaded with age that didn’t physically show, bloodied and scratched suit, rough hands, dark thoughts.

“C-Captain, I’m scared,” you whisper, and you really do look like you’re about to wet yourself, and it turns him on so much that he doesn’t even bristle at you speaking out of turn again.

“Good.” He murmurs, continuing to stroke you like you’re his little doll. There’s something about you, something so pure that he can’t really put his finger on. In the past, he’s been detached, unforgiving, often just throwing his “reward” on the bed, holding her head down against the mattress while he fucked the living daylights out of her. He would be detached and cold with you too, but this time he feels a peculiar need to savour you at the same time.

It's when he grabs your hand and places it on his hard crotch that you start crying in earnest, finally realising your fate.

“What’re you– No, please, not that! Please, I don’t know what’s going on, Captain, please–”

You try to snatch your hand back, but he holds it steadily in place. You’d never be a match for his strength, no matter how hard you tried – he had more brute power in his pinkie finger than you did in your whole body. And that turns him on even more.

“You’ll go home tomorrow,” he repeats, not even sure why he’s explaining anything to you, because he usually doesn’t speak to the girls brought for him at all, let alone reassure them. “Tomorrow, you’ll see your family but tonight, your body is mine and I’ll do with it what I please.”

You look like you’ve seen a ghost, but quickly you shake your head, blinking rapidly as if you’ve misheard him. “N-No, Captain, I don’t want to! Y-You can’t make me,” you look at him pleadingly, trying to tug your hand back but he holds it firmly against his covered cock, “You won’t make me, will you, Captain? Th-That’s wrong! An’ you’re a good man so you’d never do that!”

“Take it out.”

A different man would have perhaps consoled you, told you it would all be over soon, or maybe even made up an excuse to manipulate you into sleeping with him. A better man would’ve taken pity on you, given you your clothes back and taken you home. But Steve wasn’t like any of those men. All Steve was right now was impatient, and more than ready for his reward. I deserve it, he thinks once more to himself, before pressing your small hand down on his crotch meaningfully.

“Take my dick out.” He repeats sternly, and when you still don’t comply (probably because you’re frozen in shock and fear) Steve can’t help but quickly undo his fly before pushing your hand down his suit pants, letting out a hiss when he feels your dainty palm and fingers on his rock-hard flesh.

“No, no, no, please no,” you cry softly, rivulets of tears streaking your face, “This is wrong, Captain, please.”

He makes you wrap your hand around his cock, smirking to himself when your fingers don’t even come close to wrapping around all the way. The serum had made him a lot bigger than average, and a lot thicker too. So much so that every time he had sex, no matter how much he stretched the girls out, there would always be blood. He’d grown to become turned on by the sight of it.

“I’ve seen you on TV,” you whisper desperately, and he knows you’re in that state of mind where you’re just so scared that you’ll say anything and everything, “I’ve seen how you are, a-and you’re supposed to be the good guy, Captain. Please, let me go, y-you’re a good man so please–”

“Shut up.” He says simply, making you take his dick out. That quietens you up for a second, and you gape at his huge dick as it slaps up against his abs which are still covered by the suit. He hasn’t had sex or jacked off in about a week now (missions, press conferences, community work and other bullshit had kept him busy) and his dick is almost angry hard, the veins so prominent as he throbs in your hand.

“Stroke it.” He instructs you.

You shake your head, hand limp around his hard cock, “You c-can’t, this is wrong.”

“Drop the coy act,” he orders you, feeling a surge of impatience when he’s tried to be level with you for so long, “I know what you kids watch these days on the internet, and all the vulgar movies on television. Now do what I fucking say, or else.”

You look both taken aback and hurt by his sharper tone, and immediately you’re shaking your head.

“N-No, Sir, please. I don’t watch any of that stuff, I’m not allowed to, okay? A-And this is wrong on so many levels, you’re meant to be a good guy!”

Steve finds his cock hardening even more when he hears how you’re not allowed to watch the vulgarity that’s become so normalised in the media now as compared to back in the day. Were you, perhaps, a girl with morals? Someone who was raised well? He had yet to run in to such a girl in the twenty-first century.

“I’ve seen you on the news,” you try again when he doesn’t speak, “you and the Avengers, you’ve saved c-countless people. You’ve won wars for us. I w-went to see you when you gave a talk at my school last year, the one about good versus evil. You’re an inspiration, Captain, you wouldn’t do this!”

You’re talking a mile a minute, and Steve knows you’re doing it to prolong time till your inevitable fate. He’s tortured enough men to know that goners loved to run their mouths. As for what you’re saying, it has zero effect on him. He didn’t believe in what he said, what he stood for – you could never use that to persuade him to take a higher road.

He starts moving your hand up and down on his dick, hissing again because of how pleasurable your dainty hand feels on his rock-hard length, not to mention how much it turns him on that you’re still trying to pull your hand away, looking anywhere but at his cock, embarrassment mixing with the bone-chilling fear on your face.

“Y-You’re not a good man!” you finally sob out, shaking from head to toe as realisation finally seeps through your head.

Your words bristle Steve for whatever reason. In the past, his “rewards” have often back-talked him, insulted him as if they thought their words would have any impact on him – which they never did. But seeing you, with your bright, optimistic eyes that clearly looked up to him up until this moment, hearing you call him a bad guy… It makes him feel defensive.

“I saved you.” He spits out, “HYDRA attacked your university and I saved you and all your little friends. You’d be dead if it weren’t for me.”

You nod desperately, “I-I know, Captain, that’s why I don’t understand why you’re doing thi–”

“I deserve this.” He says simply, cutting you off. “I risk my life to save unthankful people like you, over and over again. Even a super soldier deserves payment, or at least an incentive to do what I do.”

Your jaw drops open, speechless and horrified. Steve couldn’t care less, and he feels another wave of impatience. Two weeks ago, he’d endured a similarly gruelling mission, and his reward had been waiting for him in his room. She’d been mouthy, of course, as most women of the twenty-first century were, but he’d fucked her and sent her packing within fifteen minutes. So why, on this particular occasion, was he sitting here making idle chit-chat with some dumb-witted college girl who was half his age?

He's always been quick, and you yelp in surprise when he grabs you by the waist, his rough fingers digging into your soft skin. He drags you into his lap, till you’re crying on top of him, your back to his chest. You struggle and flail against him, but it’s to no avail as he presses you down on top of his thigh, spreading your legs and locking them with his own.

“Stop struggling,” he orders you through gritted teeth, although he has to admit that having a weak girl like you fighting against him with all her might while he held you down with just his one arm was quite arousing, “It’ll be easier for you if you just stay still.”

“Please don’t, I-I’m not ready for this, I’ve never done this before, I–”

Steve snorts at that. He knows you’re young, but he also knows that girls in this century are promiscuous, and that’s putting it kindly. How many lies would you tell before you realised they’d all be in vain? He was goddamned Captain America, and he was going to have his way with you tonight no matter what came out of that pretty, pouty mouth of yours.

Grabbing your soft, bare thighs with his hands, he pushes them further apart, all while you cry and quiver in his arms like a wounded animal. Your white, lacy panties hide your pussy from his greedy, impatient gaze, and he wants nothing more than to rip your lingerie apart and ravage you to soothe the ache of his hard cock which is currently pressing against your back.

“Push your panties aside.” He commands, “and don’t even think about arguing with me. One more word of insubordination out of you, and you don’t even want to know what I’ll do.”

You’re sobbing and sobbing as you gingerly do what he says, and he licks his lips when he sees your bare pussy, trussed out for him as he holds your legs apart. He can’t help but press a finger on your bundle of nerves before swiping downwards over your slit. He frowns. You’re not wet. That simply won’t do.

Of course, he’s been in this situation before. Not often, because truthfully, women got wet the second they looked at him, turned on by his size, his power, his authority. But sometimes, like now, when one of his “rewards” was very scared and non-compliant, she wouldn’t be wet. Steve didn’t care, and he’d go in dry if he could except, with the sheer size of his dick, it just wasn’t physically possible. Often, he’d tell the SHIELD agents to prep his rewards before they were sent to his room – stretch their pussies out by whatever means (he didn’t care) so long as they were able to take his girth.

But you… Oh, he reckons he’ll have fun with stretching you out all by himself.

“Touch yourself.” He says into your ear, holding you in place tightly.

“I…I…I don’t know how, I don’t– I don’t do this, I’ve never done this, I–”

There’s something about your frightened demeanour that makes him realise that maybe you’re not lying after all. He raises a brow, “You’ve never touched yourself?”

“N-No, Sir – I mean Captain – I’m not allowed to. My parents are very conservative, Sir, I haven’t even had my first kiss. Please don’t make me do this!”

Steve didn’t think it was possible for his dick to get any harder, but it does. So big and painfully hard, it presses against your back almost indecently as he licks his lips, now infinitely more interested in you. So you were a girl raised right in these godforsaken “modern” times. His mind conjures up different ways in which he could teach you, mould you, ruin you… He doesn’t remember the last time he had a virgin – it was probably back in the forties, back when women were pure and of good heart and good intentions.

Maybe tonight’s reward would be sweeter than any other.

He grabs your hand, pressing it against your petal-soft folds. He takes your pointer finger and slowly, gently, circles it around your clit. You fight against him but it only takes you a few seconds to realise that your efforts are completely futile. Steve does not care for what you want, not in the least. You’re his reward, and he deserves this.

He leaves your finger on your clit, shooting you a deathly look that conveys that you better keep circling it or else. His own eager fingers explore your core, slipping down to probe you, finding that not even one of his fingers fits inside your little fuckhole. In fact, he tries pushing his pinkie finger up inside but to no avail at all. Fuck. You weren’t lying – you were definitely a virgin. Another telltale sign is how it only takes a handful of seconds before your wetness begins to spread, and you whimper softly – probably at all the foreign sensations you’re feeling as Steve continues to probe your hole.

“Feels good, huh?” Steve hears himself say softly, and he doesn’t know why he’s bothering wasting words on you. He never spoke to any of his other rewards – they were only there for his pleasure, and may as well have been inanimate objects to him. Dolls brought in for him to use and then promptly taken away when he was done with them. But you? Fuck, Steve doesn’t know what’s come over him.

“I-It won’t fit, Captain, please stop,” you cry softly when he tries to force his finger into you again. You’re adequately wet now, but your pussy continues to reject his finger, and he knows there’s no way you’ll be able to take his dick if he doesn’t stretch you out with his fingers first.

“I’ll make it fit,” he mutters, throwing you aside on the bed and standing up quickly. He sucks his finger into his mouth, tasting your sweetness and shutting his eyes for a second to savour your taste. And then he shoots you a warning look, “Stay there.”

He smirks when you don’t move an inch – probably paralysed with fear – as he walks over to the dresser next to his bed. Rummaging through his drawers, he sorts past all the sex toys that some agent had probably stocked up inside. Steve didn’t have much use for them, as he considered himself too traditional for toys. But he can’t help but be turned on by the idea of using a large dildo on you, or stuffing your virgin ass with a cute plug. But for right now, he grabs the bottle of lube – it’s half empty because of how often he’s had to use it on his past partners. Since the serum, his dick was way too big to go in naturally, especially when it came to a sweet virgin like you.

Roughly, he pushes you down till your back is pressed against his king-sized mattress. He climbs on top of you, rolling his eyes at the fight left in you, how you flail and fight against him despite his body being more than twice your size. He uses his arm to hold you down, but truthfully, he could’ve done it with just his pinkie finger.

“Stay still,” he commands, pinning your limbs down flat against the bed. You resort to sniffling and crying silently, your wary eyes watching him as he spreads your legs as wide as they’ll go. A sudden feral urge takes over him, and he rips your panties in half, the flimsy material landing gracefully on his sheets. Your bare pussy glistens up at him, now wet with your sweet cream despite how much you continue to cry. He can smell your sexy aroma; the scent of a virgin pussy and it goes straight to his dick.

With an animalistic snarl, he dips his head down between your legs. Using two fingers to spread your creamy petals, he lays his tongue flat against your quivering fuckhole. You scream in shock, body jerking underneath him but he doesn’t care. He grips your thighs, lifting your ass and lower back up off the bed, watching carnally as your wetness drips down to between your ass crack. He spreads your cheeks, smirking when you wail in surprise. He digs his eager tongue between your cheeks, probing your puckered, virgin ass before licking a straight line all the way back up to your pussy, ending with a harsh suck on your clit as he holds your hands at bay.

It’s come out of nowhere, this sudden need to taste you. Back in the forties; Steve had rather enjoyed going down on women. He knew he was skilled at giving head, he’d been told more than enough times. But he can’t remember the last time he’d done it. Never with any of his “rewards,” who were only ever good for fucking on their hands and knees like dogs. But you, you were different.

You wiggle, crying and begging him to let go of you but you may as well be a fly with how weak and inconsequential your pleas are to his ears. Instead, he laps at your baby cunt like he’s starved. Like a starved caveman, he spits down on your clit, wanting to make your pureness as messy as possible. He spreads his saliva all over your core with his fingers, marking you up with his DNA. He encases your now engorged bundle of nerves between his lips once more, giving it another hard suck but this time his teeth graze against it.

“C-Captain, oh-oh my God–Ah!”

It’s when Steve finally forces his one finger inside you that you squirt, drenching his digit as your walls clamp down around it. And God-fucking-dammit, he can’t believe how tight you’re squeezing his one singular finger, how tight and sexy and soft you feel around it. How your slippery walls pulsate around his digit like you’ve never cum before in your life – which would explain how quickly you’ve come undone. Some of your wetness lands on his face, some of it on the sheets beneath you, and that’s when Steve realises he’s given a virgin her first orgasm.

He can’t help but smirk, his finger still lodged inside you, but not even halfway because you’re still so fucking tight.

“Doesn’t seem like you want me to stop after all, sweetheart.” He says, not realising he’s used the pet-name on you until it’s already out of his mouth. He sets the lower half of your body back down on the bed, his finger still inside you.

You sniffle as your whole body shakes with the remnants of your orgasm, “P-Please,” you say faintly, and you can’t even raise your head to look down at him, “Please, can I go home now?”

Steve’s lip curls into a snarl, and he drives his finger inside you with renewed force, curving it upwards even when he feels resistance. You scream bloody murder, and he knows if your orgasm hadn’t sapped all your energy, you’d be flailing your legs again. But for now, he easily holds you down, feeling your soft walls encase his finger which is now up to the hilt inside you. That’s when he grabs the bottle of lube, squirting out a generous amount onto the rest of his fingers.

“N-No, Captain, please, I can’t take another one, I can’t, I can’t!” You plead, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. “Captain – Steve – please listen to me, please, look, I can’t take another finger, pl–”

His palm lands on your clit with a wet smacking sound, and you howl in pain, your pelvis lifting off the bed except he pins you back down with just one hand.

“Don’t fucking use my first name. You will address me as Captain. One more slip up and I won’t do you the favour of stretching you out.” His intense blue eyes meet your tear-filled ones, “And trust me, you want to be stretched out for when I fuck you.”

With gritted teeth and a cock that’s now painfully hard, he gets to work trying to stuff another finger into your pussy. His other hand grabs your hip in a bruising grip, and his fingers stroke your smooth, bouncy ass every so often like he can’t help it. You’re turning him on so fucking much; with your crying, how you’re begging him to stop, how weak and small you are, how fucking tight your pussy is. It makes Steve want to say something just so he can hear you speak in response, despite the fact that he’s never vocal during sex.

“Tell me, why is your pussy so fucking tight?”

“H-Huh?”

“You heard me.”

You sniffle again, shooting him a pleading look that he doesn’t even bother acknowledging. He just looks at you with waiting eyes as he nonchalantly continues to force his second finger inside you. He wants to hear you say naughty things with your innocent little mouth, and talking would get you to fucking relax so he could penetrate you with his digits properly in order to stretch you out in preparation for his dick.

“I-I’ve never done this before…” you scrunch your eyes shut, but a quick slap to your thigh has you opening them again.

“You’ve never fingered yourself?”

“No!”

“Tell me why not.”

You bow your head, “I don’t know… I just… I never did, okay? I’ve never done any of it.”

A wicked thought crosses Steve’s mind, “Oh yeah? You’ve never done anything naughty, huh? You’re a good girl?” His second finger curves up to join the first, and your hips jerk forward as you suck in your breath. It makes him smile, and he slowly begins to pump his two fingers in and out of you, “You’ve never, say, humped your baby cunt against your pillow at night? Or your stuffed animals?”

The way you freeze and how your eyes widen is all the confirmation Steve needs. He chuckles darkly.

“So that’s the type of girl you are. Riding your pillow at night when you think no one’s watching, and you probably touch your body all over, too, don’t you?” Lightning quick, his other hand leaves your hip, grabbing your wrist and bringing your hand up to your chest. Through the material of your bra, he makes you cup your breast like how he would, wanting to watch with dark eyes as you play with your tits, trying to imagine how hot you’d look doing just that all alone in the privacy of whatever girlish bedroom you had.

Steadily, he continues to finger you, pumping his digits in and out of your greedy, wet pussy, and it makes slurping sounds as it swallows his fingers in over and over again. And he observes you carefully, notices your wide eyes, the sweat on your brow, the way your lips are parted as your breathing shallows out. He even sees the slight buck of your hips, and he knows he has you where he wants you, hanging on to his every filthy word despite your mind screaming at you to continue resisting.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Steve mutters lowly, “I know that’s what all innocent little girls like you do when they think they’re alone. You play with your tits and you rub your cunt all over your pillow, till you’ve got it all wet and messy. All while you fantasise about a man like me fucking you, taking care of you, huh? I’m right, aren’t I?”

You’re full on panting now, as if his beguiling words have made you forget all about your resistance, and you rock your hips harder against his thick fingers, little pants and moans sneaking past your pouty lips as he watches you closely.

“And then you act like a good girl, and you lie to me and tell me you’ve never touched yourself. But you and I both know that’s not true. Not when you spend your nights alone in your bedroom riding your little pillow while mommy and daddy sleep in the next room, and then when you’re done, I bet you bring it up to your face, just so you can smell your own wetness, right?”

This time, he gives your ass a swift slap when you don’t reply, and you cry out in pain before squeezing your eyes shut.

“Y-Yes,” you breathe softly, so softly that he barely catches it. But it makes him grin wickedly all the same. He hasn’t had this much fun with a reward since God knows when. He never bothers speaking to the lowlife girls brought to him as post-mission rewards, let alone engaging in dirty talk with them as he was with you, hanging on to your every word because it makes his dick so fucking hard.

“Of course, I’m right,” he mutters, “Captain always knows. I know you’re a little slut in the making just like all the other college girls of this century. You bring your pillow up to your face and you smell your cunt on there, and you lick it too, don’t you? You taste yourself because you’re curious, and you don’t have a man like me to show you how it’s done.”

He slips his fingers out of your cunt, your walls automatically squeezing around them as if they want to keep him inside you. But his digits are dripping wet, and he brings them up to your face. He shoves them past your lips, and you protest but all it does is create vibrations around his fingers as he smears them inside your mouth.

“Taste yourself,” he orders you, “suck on daddy’s fingers, don’t be shy.”

It takes him a few seconds to register that he’s just referred to himself as daddy. He hasn’t done that in a while – not since the forties, at least. Back then, it was quite common for women to call their man daddy, and Steve remembers enjoying it when he used to fuck the show girls during tours. But now? He usually stuck to being called “sir” or “captain” or just nothing at all. Because “daddy” was way too intimate, it suggested that he was going to take care of you. And he wasn’t going to take care of you – he was going to ruin you before you’d be taken away tomorrow.

And yet you look so sweet and cute as you suck on his fingers, too scared to fight back any more although your eyes blaze with objection, and tears stream down your face. He doesn’t think you’ll stop crying at all tonight, but he doesn’t give a fuck about that. Not when your pouty lips look so hot sucking yourself off his fingers.

“That’s right, get ‘em nice and wet,” he murmurs lowly, before deciding he misses the feel of your tight cunt squeezing his fingers – and he still has to stretch you out, too. He removes his digits from your mouth, watching as you gasp to breathe. He trails them down your front, down your chest, down your torso, all the way down to your clit. He gives it another smack, loving how you jerk upwards like you’re so damn sensitive.

He grabs a pillow, putting it underneath your ass so he has your cunt propped up and he can examine it better. Your cream is pouring out of you almost, dripping down to the pillow below you while you cry and pretend you don’t like it. But the signs are all there, he can even see how your pelvis shakes and humps upwards, because you need a man to fill you up no matter how much you protest.

“Tight little baby cunt,” he says softly as he spreads your pussy lips once more. You look so wet and slippery and yet he knows he needs to pour some more lube into your fuckhole, which he does. And then, without giving you much time to react, he shoves three of his fingers inside you, pushing harder and with more force when he’s met with any barrier.

“STOP, NO, PLEASE! STOP, CAPTAIN – TOO MUCH!” You scream so loudly that the walls seem to vibrate around the two of you.

“Shut up and take it,” Steve says, narrowing his eyes up at you before he focuses back on your gorgeous cunt, watching as your leaking hole finally swallows his three digits, “Look at this greedy little virgin pussy, so ready for my big dick to split her in half.”

You shake your head violently, crying and protesting, but it’s when you bat at his head that he sees red. How fucking dare you hit him? Just now, when he was thinking you’d been raised well, but clearly not if you didn’t think it was a problem to hit your superiors.

“You raise your hand at me again, and I’ll hit you back twice as hard.”

His menacing words make you freeze, and you whimper quietly in absolute fear as he continues to play with your pussy. He fingers you in earnest now, three of his digits stretching you out as he scissors you open, amused by the squelching sounds your cunt makes as it swallows his fingers over and over again.

“Apologise to me,” Steve demands, “say you will not raise your hand at your superior ever again.”

You sniffle, “S-Sorry…”

“Sorry, who?” He pinches your ass unforgivingly.

“Sorry, Captain! I won’t raise my hand at my superiors, okay? I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” You squeal the last few words, your pitch going higher and higher as your hips begin to meet his thrusts. And bless your innocent fucking face, you look so confused by what’s happening. Your pussy’s jammed tight but he knows it must’ve started feeling good. All greedy little girls like you needed was a little push in the right direction.

Off their own accord, your thighs lock around his hand as you cum for a second time, your walls squeezing and pulsating against his fingers so fucking tightly as you mewl and cry above him. You’re absolutely gushing with wetness now, and the pillow below your ass is stained dark with your juices. For someone who kept claiming she didn’t want this, you sure were receptive to his touch.

Steve snatches his fingers out of you, smirking when you, despite everything, cry in protest at the loss of friction. He bets your pussy feels all gaping and empty now, because he knows how big and thick his fingers are. A normal-sized man would’ve had trouble stretching your virgin cunt out with his dick – Steve had had that same problem with just his fingers.

But he knows he’ll somehow manage to fit his cock inside you if he prepped you well enough. Or else he’d spend the whole night trying to. Often, with the women he’d slept with in the past, he’d be too impatient and couldn’t be bothered to prep them properly. Because of that, he’d only be able to fit half his dick inside them, and he’d grown used to fucking them like that, only because it was physically impossible to go any deeper. He won’t let that be the case tonight.

He climbs up your quivering body, and you look spent already after two orgasms, your eyes fluttering like you’re about to pass out. Steve can’t have that though, and he taps your cheek not so gently, hovering on top of you till you open your eyes and meet his gaze.

“Please, Captain,” you whisper faintly, “E-Enough, please. Can’t take any more.”

Steve ignores you. He’s grown distracted by your lips. How wet and warm and pouty they look, glistening with a mix of your salty tears, your cum and your saliva. Fuck. He never kissed any of his “rewards” before, it was too intimate and Steve didn’t do intimacy. But maybe…

He spits down on your face, his saliva landing on your cheek as you cringe. Fuck intimacy, Steve thinks, using his hand to smear his spit all over your face, till it’s shining with a mixture of both your bodily fluids. So messy yet so pretty…

“N-Never been kissed before!” you blurt out once more all of a sudden, as if you’ve read his mind. Your eyes plead up at him, a tiny bit of hope in your eyes as if you truly believe he’ll show you empathy and spare you, “P-Please, Sir. I’ve never been kissed, a-and I want it to be special…”

How cute. You were worried about him spoiling your first kiss as if he hadn’t just finger-fucked you to two orgasms in the span five minutes. Amused, he brings his thumb up to your mouth, stroking your pouty bottom lip gently.

“You don’t let the boys at your college kiss you?” He asks, again not fully understanding why he’s even bothering to talk to you, but he figures it’s simply because he finds it amusing.

“N-No, Captain.”

“Why not?”

“I’m t-too shy, and they’re not… they’re not interested in me,” you sound so shaky, peering up at him as if you expect him to just get off you now you’ve told him your sob story about wanting to save your first kiss to be something special.

Steve snorts. And just how fucking naïve could you be? You’re fucking delectable, he bets the lowlifes at your college creamed their pants thinking about you. Suddenly, he bristles at the thought of sending you back tomorrow, back to the dumb idiots you went to college with. But he shakes the thought out of his mind to focus solely on you.

“There’s nothing special about kissing,” he tells you, “Love, intimacy, saving yourself for that special someone – none of that’s real. The sooner you realise that, the better.”

He kisses you, cupping your cheeks with his hands so that you don’t move your face aside. At first, he’s rough, unforgiving, pressing his tongue into your mouth because you taste so sweet and he needs to get more. And then he slows down, registers your soft, quivering lips on his, how rigid they are as you don’t kiss him back. He snorts inwardly, not caring in the least. He’d kiss you all he wanted – he doesn’t care if you don’t respond.

Steve sighs into your mouth, so tuned in to your senses that he feels your breath hitch, and a tiny squeak sounds past your lips and straight into his. His thumbs, seemingly moving off their own accord, stroke your cheekbones, and he feels your body instinctively relax underneath his – probably because that’s the first and only gentle gesture you’ve felt from him this whole night.

Slowly, he sucks your bottom lip almost sweetly, as if lulling you into a false sense of security. You’re still too scared or shy to kiss him back, but that doesn’t make the kiss any less enjoyable for him. His tongue plays with yours coaxingly, because he can’t remember the last time he kissed a girl and liked it so much. And then he feels you give a tiny little kitten lick, as if you’re testing the waters as you move your tongue shyly against his. And the feeling goes straight to his dick.

He pulls away slightly to watch your face, amused when he sees your eyes scrunched shut and your lips slightly pursed, as if awaiting another kiss. And that’s what he does, giving you one, two, three quick pecks that have you inhaling deeply, and your eyes open cautiously. But they flutter shut almost immediately when they find him staring back at you.

Steve goes in for another kiss, as if one wasn’t enough because suddenly it’s like he’s parched, and his raging hard on would have to wait a second longer. His dick is as hard as a metal rod, resting against your bare stomach as he makes out with you. One of his hands reach down to cup your breast, and he can feel your nipple, hard as glass, poke against his palm even through the material of the bra. You squeak into his mouth again, as if him touching and playing with your breast is making your body invertedly respond to him.

He can definitely feel you kissing him back now, even though it’s shy and periodic… Your tongue moving slowly against his for a few seconds before you remember you’re not supposed to be enjoying this and you freeze. And then you start again, your tongue timidly stroking against his once more. Then you stop again. Repeat. It makes him smirk against your lips, feeling a rumbling in his chest like he wants to chuckle in amusement.

He pulls away, examining how breathless and cute you look. And you gaze up at him with glassy, wet eyes, those perfect, pouty lips still slightly puckered, as if you’re asking for more. But he continues to just drink in every detail of your face and how you look a mix of scared and curious, afraid and confused.

“W-Was I bad?” you breathe, and your innocent face is begging for reassurance. He knows because little girls like you always want reassurance, are always seeking out the approval of men like him. And a part of him wants to tell you no, no you weren’t bad at all. In fact, he rather enjoyed kissing you. But he keeps his mouth shut, because it wasn’t his job to reassure you. And maybe he wants you to be a bit insecure; you’d work harder in pleasing him if you thought he didn’t like your kiss.

He’s still cupping your breast with one hand, and he suddenly feels a wave of irritation at the lacy material of your bra. Quick as a wink, he tears your bra apart, the two ripped pieces now lying on either side of you. A hungry growl emanates from him, and he feels like an animal, he really just wants to suck on your tits but his dick is growing impatient, and you’d probably pass out from fear and dread if he stretched this out any longer.

He reaches to grab a condom from where he stashes them in his bedside drawer. Protection was a must for him – who knew what kinds of diseases all these modern, promiscuous girls were carrying? And yet, his hand falters before he draws back completely, his mind clouding with thoughts of how sexy your soft pussy would feel around his dick if he fucked you raw. Yes. He had to fuck you raw, feel your tight virgin pussy around him as he ruined it. He deserved as much.

Instead, Steve grabs the lube once more, acutely aware of you watching him with eyes round as saucers as he squirts a generous amount of it on his dick. He looks back at you, lying deathly still underneath him, looking like you’ve seen a ghost. He wonders if your pussy’s still tingling from the two orgasms he’s just given you, and he absentmindedly pumps his dick at the thought. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this turned on before in his life, his dick so hard he feels he’ll blow his load right there and then.

He lines his cock up against your entrance, his hands holding your silky soft thighs apart. A part of him wishes you’d fight back just one more time, just so he could exert his dominance over you once more, just so it would highlight how weak and small you are. But you lay there, quivering in fear, definitely too scared to fight back, or too distracted by his dick he glides it up and down your wet slit in anticipation.

Suddenly, you grab his arm as if to stop him, and Steve narrows his eyes.

“W-Will it hurt?” You ask softly.

“Yes.”

You whimper, your grip on his arm tightening as another tear trickles down your cheek, and you look up at him with desperate eyes.

“Please, Captain, p-please could you… could you make it hurt less? Please?” You beg him so prettily, and he can’t help but focus on how your tears get caught in your lashes, and how you sniffle like a baby. “Please, I’m sc-scared, I– maybe if you were slow–?”

“It’s going to hurt no matter what,” Steve says briskly, feeling impatient beyond belief, and yet a part of him wants to brush and collect your tears. “In fact, if I go in slowly, it’ll hurt more.” He wonders if he should say more, say anything at all to ease your discomfort. But he reasons that that’s not his job – he’s not a lovesick boyfriend who needs to worry about your feelings. This is for him. He deserves this.

You start crying softly once more, your whole body shaking. Steve tries to ignore it, focusing on your cunt instead. His dick is twitching with excitement, the tip an angry red as he brings it up against your fuckhole. He grits his teeth and pushes in, but he can’t. You’re too tight – and he’s way too big. He sighs in frustration.

“Stop being so tense.” He orders you, pouring another decent amount of lube all over his cock as well as your entrance. He’d scissored you open with three of his fingers, but it had been an extremely tight fit. And three of his fingers didn’t compare to the girth and thickness of his dick – not even the tip of it. He frowns down at you, “You need to relax. It’ll hurt less if you relax.”

A panicked look flits over your face as you look down at his dick, and he knows you’re intimidated by his size. But then you take a deep breath, close your eyes and he feels your body get less tense underneath him. He smirks.

He grabs his cock by the base and lines it up against your hole once more. You flinch away from him, your innocent, puppy dog eyes blinking up at him. He doesn’t give a fuck though, and with a lot more determination this time, he grits his teeth and forces his way inside you.

Your scream is earth-shattering. But it’s music to his ears.          

“NO, PLEASE, NO, TAKE IT OUT! TAKE IT OUT! TOO BIG!”

You thrash violently underneath him, limbs flailing before he pins them down. But for a handful of seconds, he can’t even really focus on you. Not when he’s finally basking in the glory of being inside your tight little snatch, and it feels almost euphoric. You feel so sexy around him, so hot and velvety, squeezing the life out of his fat cock. Well, he’s only got a bit more than his tip inside you, but it already feels fucking heavenly.

“Oh fuck,” Steve mutters under his breath, trying to get a grip and not get too lost in the feeling of your gorgeous fucking pussy. He hasn’t even fucked you yet, and yet he feels like his balls are about to blow with how fucking hot it feels being inside you like this.

“It hurts! T-Take it out, Captain! Please!” Your tiny hand grabs his forearm again, lips puckered so sweetly, even the grimace on your face looks beautiful. You’re beautiful when you’re in pain, and he’s addicted to the sight of it. For a split second, he imagines it’s his wedding night, and you’re his beautiful bride – sweet, innocent, beautiful bride and he’s just popped your cherry and now you’re his forever.

The thought makes him shudder, and he quickly pulls out (not that there’s much to pull out, since only his tip had entered you. You were crying and screaming just from being penetrated by only his tip, and this makes Steve smug, despite everything).

You’ve barely caught your breath when he drives his dick back inside you, and this time he really forces it in. Now that he’s got a taste of your warmth, he wants to be completely enveloped in it. His hands grab your hips tightly, forcing his fat cock inside you inch by inch. He doesn’t care if it takes all night, he was going to fully penetrate you if it was the last thing he did.

“Shhh, shut up and take it,” he orders you as you scream and protest. If any other one of his girls had screamed bloody murder the way you were doing right now, he would’ve smacked them unconscious. Not you though, and he doesn’t know why that is. “God fucking dammit, how is your pussy so fucking tight?”

“Y-You’re too big,” you answer, shaking your head over and over again, “th-this… this isn’t normal, Captain, y-you won’t fit! Please stop, something’s gonna break, I-I’m scared, I–”

He wants to break your pussy. He wants to break you.

“Shut up,” he snarls, before a thought occurs to him. Out of nowhere, he kisses you once more. Silencing your protests as his tongue works against yours, and he finds that he was already missing kissing you. God, you felt so good. Your warm, sexy lips against his and your warm, sexy pussy gripping his dick. God, fuck… So this is what great sex was, huh? Maybe he’d been fucking the wrong girls this whole time. Maybe he should’ve sought you out from the beginning – or someone like you. Someone young, innocent, unexperienced, delicate, fragile, a cry-baby. Just the complete opposite of him.

Despite everything, you kiss him back once more. Steve bets it’s because your girlish mind is trying to convince him (and yourself) that you’re a good kisser. He makes a mental note never to give you this reassurance – that way you’d just keep kissing him as if you had something to prove. Or at least that was the hope. Nevertheless, the kissing distracts you enough for him to still inside you (he’d only gotten less than a quarter of his huge dick in) and then he pulls out.

The third time he penetrates you, he does it with more force than ever before. And he bites your lip hard, grunting against you till he can taste your blood. That’s when he finally pushes more than halfway inside you, and he hears something rip from within. And you scream, you scream so fucking loudly and straight into his mouth, but he continues to kiss you, basking in the feeling of being inside you properly now. His dick feels so constricted inside your tight walls, but it’s the best feeling he’s ever felt.

He breaks the kiss to look down into your eyes, and savour your reaction to being impaled by him, to being filled up by only half his length. But your head lolls to the side, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

You’ve passed out.

“What a fucking baby,” Steve hisses, shallowly thrusting in and out of you. “Can’t even take daddy’s dick inside this tight little snatch of yours without passing out, can you?” Truthfully, he doesn’t even want to pull out, he’s so obsessed with how good your pulsating pussy feels around his dick. But he knows he needs to draw back so he can thrust back in even deeper. He’s only got half his dick inside you now, but he’s determined to get in balls deep before the night is over.

“Wake the fuck up!” he commands, wanting you alert as he defiles you. He slaps your cheek lightly several times, to no avail. He sighs, reaching for the glass of water on his side table. He dips his fingers into the liquid before sprinkling the water over your face. He slaps your cheek again, harder this time, and it turns him on when he hits you, taps into his darkest, most masochistic desires that he keeps under wraps from even himself.

It's only when he pulls out and slams back into you that you suddenly rouse, and it takes you a nanosecond to start screaming again, panicking and flailing underneath him once more. But he’s not having it this time, and quickly plasters his palm over your mouth to silence you.

“Tell me... how does daddy’s dick feel?” He asks you darkly, and he can sense the sadistic smile on his face fuelled by the sheer power he has over you right now. “And I’ll backhand the fuck out of you if you start screaming again, so don’t even try it.”

He removes his hand from your mouth and focuses on pushing more into you, and you pant underneath him, silently sobbing and cringing in pain. And yet you swallow and look up at him bravely.

“I-It hurts!”

“Address me properly.”

“C-Captain, it hurts!”

He narrows his eyes, “No. I asked you how does daddy’s dick feel?”

Your jaw drops open, and it looks like you’ve momentarily forgotten that he’s currently trying to impale you with his huge dick. Your face has the audacity to look mortified, and he wonders how innocent you truly are.

“I can’t… I can’t call you… That’s wrong!” you sputter, looking almost – dare Steve think it – cute. With your wide eyes and indignant gaze and delicious pouty lips in the shape of an o. You seem to blurt out your next words without even thinking: “Y-You’re not my dad!”

Steve barks out a laugh before he can stop himself, but he straightens his face almost immediately, reaching up to grip your chin harshly between his thumb and forefinger. Faced with your horror-struck reaction to calling him daddy, he now wants you to address him as that and nothing else.

“Listen, sweetheart. You may have noticed by now that you don’t get much of a say in what happens to you tonight,” he licks up your jawline before his lips brush against your mouth, and he speaks in a whisper, “Now answer my question. And address me properly. Or else.”

You look mortified, scrunching your eyes shut as you breath rapidly in and out. “It… It hurts…daddy.”

Steve feels like he’ll bust a nut right there and then. He doesn’t think he’s ever been more turned on. You’re so small and shy, so tiny and naïve and scared like a baby, and now you’re calling him daddy in that sexy, shaky voice of yours. Goddamn, what a sexy little slut you were. And he’d take care of you tonight, just like any daddy would. Oh… damn right he’d be your daddy tonight. God fucking dammit, you were such a little slut for calling him that!

With a renewed, carnal type of lust, Steve grabs your legs and hoists them over his shoulders. You yelp as he folds you in half like a goddamned pretzel. And the juxtaposition, the visual of your naked body underneath him still in his bloodied suit from the mission – God, it turns him on so much. He presses another kiss to your lips, guiding you into making out with him, wanting you to get obsessed with the idea of kissing him. And then he pulls away, and looks you right in the eye.

“Now you can scream.”

“Huh?”

He slams into you so fucking hard, he’s sure you see stars. And if you were screaming loudly before, it’s nothing compared to now. His entire floor is sound-proofed, but he’s sure the people above and below can hear you. He’s pushed himself far deeper into you, so deep that he senses something rip inside you again. And you’re crying, your little fists pounding against his chest, and yet Steve grits his teeth and mutters, “take it, just fucking take it,” pushing into you bit by bit, inch by inch, so determined to finally get his cock all the way inside you. Pulling out a bit, then pushing in some more while your tight walls try to push him out but he’s so much fucking stronger than you.

A deep rumble emanates past his lips when he finally – fucking finally – bottoms out inside you, and he leans down to press his forehead over yours so he can savour the moment. You were his, completely, irrevocably, undeniably his. You whimper and cry underneath him but it’s music to his ears, your sweet reaction to him popping your cherry, completely snatching away your virginity and possessing it as his forever. He looks down to where you two meet, sees your pussy stretched out completely around his girthy dick, and it makes him want to spontaneously combust.

“You’re mine.” Steve breathes against your lips, and for the second time tonight, the image of you as his little bride flits through his mind. Yes, you’d make a very fitting bride for him. Small and submissive and innocent. And he’d never taken marriage seriously before now but… well, how could he give you up? When he’d taken your virginity and made you his? How could he possibly send you back to wherever you’d come from? The mere thought fills him with vitriolic rage. No. You were to stay with Steve, and you’d be his bride. His wife. His. “Say it. Say you’re mine.”

You don’t argue this time, or even hesitate. He knows he’s broken you when you look up at him, dazed expression on your face. “I’m – I’m yours, daddy.”

Fuck. And you’d gone and called him daddy again without him even having to prompt you. Yes. That more than sealed your fate. You would be his now. His girl. His wife. He’d keep you locked up in his room forever, the same reward that he’d look forward to coming home to after every mission.

“How does it feel to have your baby pussy split open on my cock, sweetheart?” He presses kisses down the nape of your neck, excitement rippling through him at his impulsive decision to make you his wife. The thrill of finding a bride as cute as you makes him want to kiss you even more, and he nips at your neck before reaching your lips, pecking them once, twice, three times. All while you look up at him with glassy, wet eyes and a pitiful expression mixed with something else.

“Please,” you breathe quietly against his lips, and with sapped energy you manage to grab a fistful of his suit, pulling it to get his attention, “Please, make it hurt less. Please.”

Steve smirks, pulling out of you and preparing to slam back in. But he grows distracted by the sight of his cock, completely coated scarlet with your blood. Your virgin blood. The pillow under your ass is stained with drops of dark crimson too, and he’s never seen anything like it. Fuck. He’d really done a number on you, hadn’t he? And he hadn’t even begun fucking you yet.

I deserve this, he thinks to himself.

He slams into you again, the gasp dying in your mouth when he grabs you by the chin and forces you to look down at where you two meet. Your eyes grow wider, your mouth dropping open as you shake your head in disbelief at the sight of your pussy so stretched out to accommodate his girth.

“What’re those conservative parents of yours gonna think when they find out their good little girl just got her pussy ripped apart by a man twice her age?”

You swallow and shake your head, “I–I…”

“Answer me!”

“They’d be d-d-disappointed!” You cry out, ripping your gaze away from the sight of his dick penetrating your formerly virgin pussy, instead looking up at him instead, your mouth looking so deliciously pouty.

Steve smiles wickedly, “It’s a good thing you’re not their little girl anymore, huh? You’re mine now, so their opinion doesn’t matter.”

“Th-They like you! They’re fans of you… They wouldn’t like this at all! OH MY GOD!” You gasp, and he has to hold you down to keep you from sliding upwards from the power of his thrusts. You cry out once more, “W-Was supposed to – ah! – wait till I was married…”

The mention of marriage has Steve imagining you as his little bride once more. He already owned your body, mind and soul – but the marriage certificate would make sure he owned you under the eyes of the law too. His kept woman you’d be, fluttering around his apartment like a bird in a gilded cage. Or maybe he’d move you into one of the suburban properties he owned, where he could come home to you and relieve all his tension and worries. Yes. It would be perfect. He’d make all the arrangements tomorrow…

For now, he focuses back on fucking you silly. Pulling out all the way, he rams his dick straight back into your cunt, and you let out a sound that’s a mix between a squeak and a moan. He looks down at you curiously.

“You like that? You like daddy’s big dick?” He grabs your hands, squeezing them tightly.

“T-Too big!” Your eyes flutter shut as if you’re about to pass out again. “C-Captain, please slow down! H-Hurts so bad!”

Steve bristles. Hadn’t he explicitly told you to call him daddy? After all, he’d be your daddy now. You wouldn’t be your father’s property after tonight. No, you were Steve’s. He was your daddy, and he’d take care of you because you’d soon become his bride. But he wouldn’t have an insolent, insubordinate wife who couldn’t take instructions well. That wouldn’t do at all.

He grunts, letting go of your hands and wrapping his fingers around your throat instead. You squeal in protest but it lands on deaf ears. His other hand presses down over your mouth once more.

“Shut up!” He snaps, “Stop squealing like a little bitch. It hurts but you’re just going to have to take it. And you better start calling me daddy, or else I’ll drag you back downstairs and fuck you in front of everyone.” He only means it as a threat, but he knows by the way your breath hitches that you’re innocent enough to believe him.

He removes his hand from your lips and taps you roughly on your cheek, “Tell me you understand.”

You nod, receiving a harder tap on your cheek and a menacing look.

“I-I understand, daddy, I – oh – oh my!”

He thrusts into you with such force, he knows you’re seeing stars. And it’s subtle, but Steve catches it. He catches the shift in your expression, this unfamiliar spark in your eye as if you don’t know what’s happening with your body. But Steve knows. Your body is finally starting to respond to his cruel ministrations – just like he knew you would. You were an innocent little baby but you were also a horny little slut who was enjoying getting fucked by a man like him.

“It’s starting to feel good, huh?” Steve whispers against your lips, imagining the different ways he’d take you for the rest of the night. Of course, you’d probably pass out again once he was done with this first round. But after that? Maybe he’d put you on top of him, bounce you up and down on his cock and get in even deeper that way. Or he’d make you suck his cock, or maybe he’d manhandle you till you were on his face, rubbing that sweet, gorgeous little baby cunt on his –

“I-I don’t understand!” You cry, and he feels you wiggle your hips subtly as if you’re trying to do it without him noticing, “Feels…feels…oh, oh god!” With abandon, your head lolls back and you rut your hips up against his dick, meeting his thrusts. Steve chuckles, a satisfied feeling spreading across his chest.

“All that crying and screaming, just for you to enjoy getting fucked by me,” Steve murmurs, brushing your hair off your face so he can gauge your expression better. You look so pitiful, biting your lip and looking up at him with wet eyes, humping up against his dick and your eyes reflecting the confusion you felt. “But don’t worry, all little girls like you love getting fucked by their daddy. It’s only natural, sweetheart.”

“D-Daddy, please,” you pant, and now your hands come up to grip a fistful of his suit, and he knows that you don’t even understand the pleasure you’re slowly starting to feel. And you’re gripping his cock so tight as he rams in and out of you, building up a steady pace now. He knows he’s found your g-spot and he’s pounding against it, but you have no fucking clue and it’s the hottest fucking thing ever.

“Look at you, humping your baby pussy up against daddy’s dick,” Steve shakes his head as if he’s reprimanding you. He spits down on your face, wanting you even messier. His hand leaves your throat as he shoves two of his fingers past your lips, spreading them open and spitting again. His saliva lands on your tongue, “Swallow it, you nasty fucking slut. I knew I’d make you my little slut before the night was through. I said fucking swallow it. That’s right. Good girl.”

“Ah, ah, ah– tingles… I – daddy! P-Please, I don’t know what’s – AH!”

 Your breathless moans and nonsensical garbles are like music to his ears, but nothing compares to the way you clamp down on his cock when you suddenly squirt around it. The way you squeak and clutch him tightly, and he fucks you through your orgasm. Your very first orgasm while getting fucked, and it’s so fucking sexy the way your tight walls flutter around him. God, he could get used to this feeling – buried deep inside your wet, tight snatch every single night from here on out.

“Did daddy make you feel good?” He breathes, hips moving like a jackhammer, his balls slapping against your pussy as he continues to fuck you.

You nod timidly, wiped out from your orgasm to say anything else. He smirks, watching your breasts bounce up and down as he fucks the living daylights out of you and you just lie there beneath him and take it. As if a part of you had understood that this was to be your job from here on out – his little fuckdoll, his little prize after God knows how many listless years of saving the world, saving people who he didn’t give a flying fuck about.

He’d won countless medals of honour, rewarding him for his bravery in serving his country, in saving his people. But you were his true prize, with your tight cunt that was his and his only. And how jealous every other man would be! He knew they already envied his physique, his fame, his authority. Now all those assholes would have another reason to envy him – because his little bride was the most innocent, most vulnerable, most beautiful girl they’d ever lay their eyes on. And it would be his bed in which you’d be, night after night, waiting with spread legs for him to fuck you.

Of course, he’d fuck other women if he so wanted to. Steve didn’t believe in love or monogamy. He believed in ownership, though. And he owned you, every part of you from your cunt to your soul. You wouldn’t even look at another man ever again, or else Steve would have you killed. And the thought of you with another man is what incenses him even more.

With a low growl, he pulls out of you. Your eyes shoot open, your mouth pausing mid-moan to look up at him desperately. Your cunt shamelessly humps the air, and he can’t believe what a little harlot you’ve turned into after your first taste of sex. He looks down at his blood-covered dick, grabbing it by the base. He lays his fat cock on your stomach, painting your smooth skin scarlet with your own virginal blood. The sight turns him on even more, and with another growl, he puts your legs down and flips you over on your stomach.

He grabs your ankle, dragging you to the foot of the bed while you squeak in protest and confusion. He gets off the bed, standing up to his full height as you cower beneath him, looking back at him over your shoulder warily, a trail of blood on the sheets from where he’d dragged you.

“Hands and knees,” he orders, “and don’t fucking make me repeat myself.”

This time, you do obey pretty quickly. Mustering up whatever energy you have left, you shakily get on your hands and knees. He grabs your hips just in time, keeping you upright before your body has a chance to collapse. Your legs are shaking and he knows your body can’t take much more. He doesn’t care, because he owns your body and you’ll take what he gives you.

“Nice ass,” he smirks, squeezing and kneading your ass cheeks liberally before giving your ass a hard smack that has your knees buckling. He hoists you back up by your hips, “Thank me for the compliment, sweetheart.”

“Th-Thank you, daddy.” You answer almost at once, and Steve grins wolfishly. He’s broken you. He bets you’d do just about anything to please him now. He bets you’ve forgotten about your life back home, and all your tiny mind can think about now is your daddy and his big cock.

With a grunt, Steve pistons his fat cock inside you once more. And god, from this angle, with your gorgeous, perky ass right in his fucking face, he feels like he’s going to blow his load any second. You start moaning again, rocking your hips backwards, garbling “please” and “daddy” and other nonsense. Your ass bounces with each thrust, and Steve can’t help but slap it brutally hard, over and over again, wanting you even more bruised and bloody than you already are right now.

“You like it rough, don’t you?” he asks, slapping and pinching your ass while he watches his dick disappear inside your sexy cunt over and over again, “you tried to act all innocent and cute, telling me you had fucking homework to do tonight, fuck!” He lifts your hips up off the bed to get a better angle, till he’s holding your entire lower body up in the air.  It gives him better leverage, since he’s so tall, and he fucks you on his dick like you were nothing more than a fleshlight.

“I – ah, daddy! – I d-do have h-h-homework – OH MY GOD!”

It just gets Steve even harder, hearing you be so innocent despite being held up and fucked like a dog. You’ve got your elbows propped on the mattress to keep you up, your legs flailing helplessly as he holds your hips in the air, ramming you repeatedly with his fat cock till he knows you’re seeing stars.

“Forget about your fucking homework from now on,” he spits out, grabbing your ass lewdly and jiggling it, fascinated by how it bounces so cutely. “There’s no way I’m letting you go back to that college of yours.”

“Wh-What?”

He doesn’t answer, and the room is filled with sounds of skin slapping against skin, the carnal sound of Steve staking his claim on you. With all his other rewards, he’d be done in about fifteen minutes. You, he’d have you all night if he could. Well, he can – he’s built like a fucking tank with stamina for days. You, on the other hand, keep looking like you’re going to pass out and he’s pretty sure he’s done some type of damage to your pussy. He’d have SHIELD’s physician check you tomorrow.

He throws you back down on the bed, not giving you a chance to even catch your breath before he’s on top of you, flipping you on your back and urgently pressing his lips to yours. Much to his smugness, this time you respond as if it’s muscle memory, kissing him back as best as you can. And for a person who’s just learnt how to kiss, you sure were extremely desperate for it. You keep kissing him even when he enters back into you for the third time, fucking you on your back and this time you wrap your arms and legs around him like a goddamned koala bear, your kisses growing more fervent till Steve pulls away and chuckles against your lips.

“You like kissing me?” He finds himself asking you, holding you in place beneath him as he fucks you hard, but his one hand comes up to grip your chin so you don’t look away, “be honest, baby. You like kissing daddy?”

Your eyes widen in fear at the direct question, and he watches the panic on your face. But then your features contort in pleasure as he repeatedly hits that spot deep inside you, and you nod desperately, surging up to kiss him again but he pushes you back down.

“Use your words.”

“Ah, y-yes, I do, okay!? I like it! P-Please!”

You start doing that thing again, humping pathetically up into him as if to meet his thrusts. And he wonders if you realise how easy he’s truly going on you. He reckons he’s using about five percent of his power right now as he rams into you repeatedly. Any more than that and he’s sure he’d shatter your pelvis or cause permanent damage.

“Kiss me, then.” Steve says, not knowing why he sounds so gentle. He probably had something stuck in his throat, but he doesn’t dwell over it because, like a good little girl, you obey him. Your needy lips, your desperate tongue poking against his in a perfect kiss. He groans into your mouth, his thrusts going sloppy as your cunt squeezes around him because you’re so turned on by him kissing you.

“Am I… A-Am I doing this right, daddy?” You breathe, batting those fucking sexy, innocent eyes up at him.

Steve smirks, “You’re fine.”

You’re more than fine, of course – but he doesn’t need you knowing that. He needs you to be as insecure as possible. It made you even hotter, the look of self-doubt that you have on your face right now. He’s violated your body, he’s still violating your body, and yet all you seem to be focusing on is the fact that he thinks your kissing is “fine.” Not good, not great… but fine.

You kiss him once more, even more desperately this time, as if you’re trying to prove something. Steve relishes how easy it is to play with your mind, how naïve you are. How much he’ll enjoy playing with you when he makes you his wife. He continues pistoning his dick inside you as he lets his mind wander.

All the others would be so fucking jealous of him – even Bucky, who had a girl already but Bucky’s girl was nothing compared to you. He’d drag you around the whole building, the whole headquarters, the whole compound, showing you off like a shiny, new toy. That’s what you were – his very own toy.

He’d take you into meetings with him, make you sit on his lap and play with you in front of everyone. And he’d chop the dick off of anyone who looked at you in a way he didn’t like. He’d make you wear pretty dresses, make you look like a cute little housewife, train you to answer his every command. Fuck yeah, you’d be his reward. He deserved you, after all he had sacrificed for his country, for the world.

“D-Daddy, I’m feelin- tingly again!” you moan, your words shaky from how hard he’s fucking into you. Your legs wrap tighter around his waist and in return he clutches you harder, determined to make you squirt again before he had his own release.

“Oh yeah? What does it feel like?”

“D-Daddy – nngh…ah, I–I–”

He swats your clit harshly, making you howl in what he knows is pleasure. His dick hammers in and out of you unforgivingly, and you’re such a fucking slut, humping up against him, crying for your release. And it’s such a far cry from how much you were resisting him at first, he can’t believe what a little slut he’s reduced you to in such little time.

“Stupid girl, can’t even talk anymore, can you?” he mocks, pinching your clit meanly, bullying it as he rubs it fiercely. Till you’re thrashing underneath him, so desperate to cum that you don’t even care that your body is betraying you. “Tell me you’re a stupid little girl!”

“Oh fuck! I’m a – a – a stupid little girl!”

He can see the remnants of your tears stained to your cheeks, and he feels a carnal level of possession within him. With a growl, he lewdly licks the side of your face, claiming his territory, tasting your salty tears. Roughly, he tugs your hair, pulling your head to the side and biting down on your neck. So hard that he draws blood, and then he licks that up too. God, what a little slut you were – a slut disguised as an angel and you were making him act like a motherfucking animal.

And now the side of your neck sported his bite mark, your porcelain perfect skin marred by his branding of you. And this was just the beginning – Steve already knows that he plans to mark you in many different ways. Tomorrow, he’d get one of the agents to bring over a tattoo artist to tattoo his initials somewhere on your body. Maybe right above your baby cunt, just so you would always remember who you belonged to. He smirks, and wonders what your conservative parents would think of that.

“What would your parents think now, sweetheart?” He asks, grabbing one of your legs and hoisting it over his shoulder for a better angle. And you’re so pliable, so easily going along with whatever he’s doing to you like a perfect little doll. “What would they think of their perfect little girl getting fucked by Captain America like it’s her fucking job?”

You panic, as if the mention of your parents is a reminder of how wrong this all is for you – not that Steve gives a fuck. Biting your lip to keep from moaning at all the sensations you’re feeling, you shake your head. Only for him to slap you not so lightly on the cheek.

“Answer me, baby girl.”

“They’d – ah – they’d hate this, they’d be upset, they’d – OH FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!” You scream out all of a sudden, your pussy walls gripping him like a vice, “O-Oh, I’m feelin– I gotta–”

“Hold it.” Steve hisses warningly.

But you don’t. Of course, you don’t. Babies like you couldn’t hold orgasms for shit. And you cum, crying for him and gripping him tightly, and Steve feels like he’s going to lose it with how sexy it feels. It feels like your cunt is trying to swallow him up, crying for his seed as it pulsates around his fat cock that continues to move in and out.

“Bad girl,” Steve chastises, giving you another not-so-gentle slap on the cheek because you look like you’re about to faint again. He jostles you with the forces of his dick, still ramming in and out of you at lightning speed. “You do things without permission a lot at home?”

You have the audacity to, despite everything, look indignant: “N-No, never, I never–”

“Then what made you think you could cum without your daddy’s permission?”

Your lips purse as if you’re about to cry, and you blink up at him so goddamned innocent. Steve’s honestly surprised he’s still going, surprised he hasn’t busted a fucking nut with how goddamned cute and sexy you are.

“I’m…I’m sorry, I couldn’t – ah! – I had to, I–I–”

“Give me another one,” he orders you darkly.

“Wh-What–”

“You heard me. Cum for daddy again. Since you like doing it so much.”

Frantically, you shake your head, “C-Can’t! Too much, daddy, it’s too much– O-O-HHH GOD!”

He reaches down to strum your clit before a dark thought crosses his mind. His fingers slip lower, gathering the wetness of your pussy along the way. Lower, between the cleft of your ass cheeks. He can’t resist giving one of your perky cheeks a hard smack, before going straight for your puckered hole. He circles it with his thumb and your body stiffens in shock and horror.

“N-No, daddy, no please, that’s wrong, that’s–”

Steve shoves his finger in your tight, virgin asshole. He hadn’t been planning on defiling that third hole tonight, but oh well. And it’s even tighter than your pussy, and you clench against his digit like a fucking whore because he knows you like it. You like your daddy’s finger up there. His fucked up little wife-to-be… God, you were so perfect for him.

 With his fat cock, Steve fucks your pussy and at the same time, his huge finger fucks your tiny ass. Pumping in and out of your tiny hole while you cry and yet once more you slowly begin humping up against him. As if the depravity of it all turned you on even more – which he knew it did.

Your hand tugs at his bicep, making him shift his gaze back up to you.

“It’s happening again, daddy, it’s– d-don’t stop, I–”

Steve licks his lips, “Say you’ll marry me.”

Your eyes widen the most they have all night, “Wh-What?!”

“Say it!” He orders, “Say it or else I’ll fucking stop and leave you hanging. Say you’ll marry me, be my wife and do whatever the fuck I tell you to do.”

“N-No, I–”

He stills his hips, only for you to shake your head and grip his arm harder in desperation, humping up against him hopelessly.

“Say it. Say you’re daddy’s little bride. Fucking say it.”

“I-I’m daddy’s little bride, okay? I’ll do it, daddy, I’ll marry you, I – OH FUCK, PLEASE – I’ll do whatever you say, I, just please, I–” You’ve lost it, completely lost it as new tears swell from your eyes and you beg him as if you have no shame at all. And Steve feels all the pride and smugness in the world as he resumes fucking you, knowing he won’t last any longer after this carnal display of submission from you.

“Cum.” He orders you, “right now, sweetheart, do what I say and cum for daddy.”

You squirt so violently around his cock, that your whole body shakes and shudders, you’re so overwhelmed by pleasure. Toes curled and tears streaking your face, you hold him so tightly that he’s surprised by your strength, and you keep moaning his name, you keep moaning “daddy” over and over again as if he got his agents to reprogramme your brain and it’s all you know how to say now.

“That’s right, baby girl,” he mutters lowly, “squeeze that pretty little princess cunt around daddy’s dick. You’re such a good fucking girl.”

“Th-Thank you, daddy,” your meek response, barely audible by how quietly you say it, is not something he expected, and it goes straight to his dick. Not you, not his little bride, thanking him for deflowering you in the most brutal way possible? Fuck, he’d broken you. You’d be licking the palm of his hand by tomorrow; he just knew it.

The thought makes him shudder, his dick twitches and then he unloads inside you. Spurt after spurt unloaded straight into your pussy, and it’s such a satisfying feeling, pumping you full of his seed. Filling you the fuck up, and he’s glad he didn’t use the fucking condom. And there’s so much of his cum, because of the serum of course, so much that it doesn’t even fit inside you. It pours out of you and you watch with wide eyes before letting out a soft cry.

“I’m not… I’m not protected, I don’t take birth control, I–I…” Your voice trails off, too weak to voice any more protestations as Steve continues to empty himself inside you, your words having no effect on him whatsoever.

“Good. You’d be lucky to carry my child.” Steve informs you, his cock already thickening again at the thought of him knocking you up. He’d never had an interest in having children before now, but fucking a whole family into you seems like the hottest fucking thing he could do right now. Captain America: the family man. It made sense for his image.

Your protests fall on deaf ears, and he remains inside you, till he’s finally emptied out and your poor, raw pussy is overflowing with his cum. But he stays on top of you, propped up on his elbows as he watches you underneath him. Your chest rising and falling as you breathe, and you’re so pretty, and he can’t help but lean down to kiss you again. Once, twice, three times. He frowns when you don’t kiss him back, drawing back to take another look at you.

Your eyes have fluttered shut. Your body couldn’t take it. You’ve passed out once more.

Steve smirks, feeling himself hardening up again inside you. He had absolutely no qualms with fucking you back to consciousness again.

***

It’s gone past midnight when Steve hears a knock on his door. He calls for them to come in, and two SHIELD agents appear in his doorway. The same two who always come to take away his rewards after he’s done with them.

The female agent’s jaw twitches at the sight. Steve on the bed, having changed and washed up with a quick shower. And you’re next to him, passed out on the bloodied sheets. Steve reckons you look beautiful, like you’re sleeping.

“Would you like for us to take her away, Captain?” The male agent asks.

“No. She will stay with me. Contact her family and let them know, make them pack a bag for her and make sure it arrives here by tomorrow.”

The male agent nods, but the female – it’s always the damned females, Steve scorns – she hesitates.

“Captain, she looks like she’s in bad shape. Maybe–”

“That will be all.” Steve interrupts, “you can leave now.”

They do, and Steve turns his attentions back to you – his little girl, as you begin to stir.

“Shhh,” he orders, when you open your mouth to speak. Your eyes look bleary, you look confused, wondering whether all this was a dream or not. Steve’s in no mood to indulge you, and yet he presses his thumb past your lips. And fuck, it goes straight to his dick when you readily accept it, sucking his thumb like a baby as you blink up at him.

His beautiful, broken little bride.

“Go back to sleep.” Steve tells you, “Tomorrow’s going to be a busy day for us. You need all the rest you can get.”

Yes, tomorrow. When he’d parade you around his teammates as Captain America’s little bride. It would be perfect. His forever reward.

Tony had his alcohol, Sam had his parties, Bruce had his research and Bucky had some girl. But Steve? Steve had drawn the best cards out of all of them. Because he had you. Your submission, your devotion. You.

He deserved this.

AKFSLA THE END!! Steve's inner monologue was unhinged af. I know! Please, please let me know what you think!!! It would mean the world, please do reblog and leave feedback!!! I have been writing this for around two weeks and would love to know what you think!!! As usual, thanks so much for reading my work and supporting me!!! I love you guys!! SORRY IF IT SUCKED ASDAGNL.

ALSO please forgive me if i got anything wrong about shield or hydra or any of that. like i literally am not an expert asnglagl okaybye!!!

always keep my heart safe

pairing: ceo!ari levinson x female reader

summary: you're ari levinson's "maid" and you're harboring a crush on your employer, which leads you to act foolish when you're alone with him on a long flight on his private plane.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), established relationship, established consent/safe words, employer/employee relationship with feelings, pre-discussed arrangement, free use, size kink (very brief moment of pain from it), smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, cockwarming, daddy kink, praise kink, light degradation, tiny bit of overstimulation, check-ins, discussion of relationship & feelings, romantic confessions, possessiveness, dirty talk, pet names (sugar), aftercare

word count: 10.7k

a/n: here's my first (and hopefully not only!!) entry for @the-slumberparty's Bingo event. i included my card at the end of the fic, but i decided to go for a full bingo (i've never done a bingo event before 😅) so i'm using these tropes/au's: airplane sex, size kink, free use, crush, maid au. the idea i came up with felt so different to anything i've written and it was fun to explore—though it ended up being a lot more emotional than i expected!!! anyway, hope y'all enjoy!!

-

“Is this his first time writing a contract?” your employer Ari Levinson asked into the speaker of the phone he held to his ear, his tone filled with a mixture of humor and incredulity. Even when he was berating one of his employees, the ever-present charm wasn’t far from his deep voice and you could easily picture the bemused smile on his handsome face.

Even though your back was turned to him, it didn’t take much effort to conjure an image of Mr. Ari Levinson in your mind. The billionaire CEO had been your employer for six months, and in that time, you’d had plenty of opportunity to memorize every line of his face, every smooth hair in his well-kept beard. You knew every shade of his blue eyes and what the different curves of his mouth meant. You knew that even though Mr. Levinson’s voice had a hint of humor to it, there was a thread of steel underneath that meant he truly wasn’t happy with whatever contract had been drawn up.

You tried not to draw Mr. Levinson’s attention as you pressed your legs together, a thrum of desire unraveling in your center as heat bloomed between your thighs. You loved listening to Mr. Levinson’s voice, the authority in it never failed to have an effect on your body, making you feel warm and needy. But he was busy at the moment, on an important business call, so you focused on dusting the bottles on the bar cart in front of you, while behind you, Mr. Levinson sat in one of the plush, cushioned seats of his private plane. Even still, you listened in on his conversation—telling yourself it was only so that you could make him a drink if he needed it.

“There’s no fucking excuse, Barber,” Mr. Levinson was saying after a long pause. You could tell from the tenor of his voice that he was reaching the end of his patience and your only comfort was that you knew Andy Barber on the other end of the line likely heard it too. But you were distracted from your thoughts of Mr. Levinson’s associate by your boss’s next words. “C’mon, Barber, my girl could write a more airtight contract than Drysdale did.”

Tilting your head to the side, you ran through your knowledge of Mr. Levinson’s business associates but couldn’t think of who he might be referring to. He employed plenty of women, many of them holding high positions in his company, but he’d never call any of them his girl. 

Jealousy twisted in your gut as you considered the possibility Mr. Levinson had a girlfriend. But just as quickly as the thought occurred to you, you brushed it aside. It went against the arrangement you had with Mr. Levinson—it was expressly forbidden in the agreement you’d signed with him when you’d started working for him.

Besides, you couldn’t bear the thought of Mr. Levinson having a girlfriend. Not when you had a gigantic, heart-pounding, all-consuming crush on him. You knew it was just asking for trouble to have developed feelings for Mr. Levinson, especially since he wasn’t a normal employer and you weren’t a normal employee. The agreement you’d signed, the arrangement you’d made, it was all completely abnormal. In it, he’d specified that neither of you could have romantic partners outside of it, and feelings would be kept out of your arrangement entirely.

You’d held out for five months, managing to leave your heart at the door when you entered Mr. Levinson’s mansion or penthouse apartment, and remained detached. But then one day you’d walked into his office and the late afternoon light had been falling just so on his face, highlighting the golden tones of his brown hair, swept back perfectly from his face as it always was. When he’d looked up at you, the light had hit his blue eyes just right so they looked like they were sparkling when they met yours. Your stomach had dropped and your heart had raced and you’d known, in that moment, you’d fallen for your boss.

In the weeks since that afternoon, you’d done everything you possibly could to hide your feelings, worrying that if Mr. Levinson knew, he’d terminate your employment. While it was tough to prentend you didn’t like Mr. Levinson more than an employee should like their employer, you knew it would be devastating to be removed from his life entirely. So you put on your uniform and you hid your emotions and you dusted the same bourbon bottle five times to keep yourself busy while listening in on Mr. Levinson’s phone call on his private plane while you flew to god knew where with him.

“My girl—you know my girl,” Mr. Levinson was saying to Mr. Barber. Curiously, it sounded like he was stumbling over his words a little, trying to cover up a mistake, though you couldn’t think of what that mistake could’ve been, not until he further explained. “My maid,” he said gruffly, and you could feel the moment his eyes flicked to your back, his attention spreading warmth down your spine. “You’ve met her, Barber.” 

Pride warmed your cheeks when you realized you were the one Mr. Levinson had said could write a better contract than his new employee, Ransom Drysdale. You allowed yourself a secret smile at the compliment—and at the way Mr. Levinson had called you his girl. You knew he meant it in a she’s-my-employee kind of way, but it still felt ridiculously good to be claimed by the man you had a crush on. You bounced a little in your heels as you continued swiping your feather duster over the bottles of liquor, feeling buoyant and happy. 

“Look I don’t care if you have to redo it yourself or hold Drysdale’s hand while he fixes it, just get it done,” Mr. Levinson ordered in an exasperated tone. He had officially lost his patience with the call, rushing to finish it. “I want it done and in my inbox by the time we land,” he said brusquely. A moment later, you heard the thud of Mr. Levinson’s phone being tossed onto the table in front of his seat and a frustrated sigh sounded behind you.

Excitement and anticipation coursed through your body, lighting it up with desire for your employer. It had never been a chore to fulfill your side of the arrangement, you’d always known Mr. Levinson was extremely attractive, but you found you were much more eager to please him once you’d realized you had a crush on him. You didn’t want to just do you job, you wanted to do the best job you could for him, because you cared about him. 

Smoothing down the front of your skimpy little maid costume, you thought for the thousandth time about how grateful you were for answering the peculiar job posting. It had come through from the employment agency you’d signed up for after striking out with all the well-known websites. You were desperate for work, and you hadn’t thought it was very strange to meet your prospective employer at his penthouse apartment in the city, especially since the agency had said it was for a maid position.

However, when you’d met with Mr. Levinson, he’d explained the real parameters of the arrangement he wanted. He’d said it was a kind of personal assistant job, but would require you to do things personal assistants didn’t often do. He’d been charming—he was always charming—but blunt when he’d laid out what he wanted: A free use fuck toy for stress relief. 

To say you’d been shocked would be an understatement, but your surprise had worn off quickly and you’d squirmed in your seat, not out of discomfort, but because the thought of what he wanted turned you on. You’d ran your eyes over Mr. Levinson’s broad shoulders, the biceps straining the sleeves of his suit jacket, and his big hands that were placed casually on his desk. You hadn’t been able to help but get even more aroused at the thought of the charming CEO using you whenever he wanted, crossing your legs so you could press your thighs together against the ache of your desire.

Mr. Levinson must’ve read your reaction correctly, because he’d smiled and continued the meeting, going over the benefits he’d offer, a brief overview of the boundaries and limits of the arrangement he desired, and stopped often to ask if you had any questions. When he was done, he’d given you a week to think about his offer, but you’d made your decision in three days. You’d returned to his penthouse and hammered out the fine details of your arrangement. He’d been adamant that neither of you should develop feelings for the other and you’d assured him that you could keep things professional. By the end of that second meeting, you’d been hired as his “maid.” 

By the time you’d gotten home, there had been two maid outfits waiting for you in garment bags. One was a more traditional uniform, with a respectable neckline and hemline. The other was practically lingerie, and came with instructions that you were only to wear it when Mr. Levinson directed and, per the limits of your agreement, it would only be in his presence. 

It was that second outfit you wore on the plane—a tiny little black dress, the neckline plunging low on your chest and the hemline high on your thigh, barely covering your ass. There was white lace along the edges of the dress and the little decorative apron on the front of the getup. It was cute, and it made you feel downright sexy to strut around in so little clothing with your sky-high heels in front of Mr. Levinson in his tailored business suits.

You were so busy smoothing out the nonexistent wrinkles in your maid costume and thinking of your time working for Mr. Levinson—trying to ignore the fact that you’d gone against his no feelings rule—that you missed the telltale sounds behind you that he’d be needing your services. You didn’t hear his frustrated sigh or the agitated rustling of papers, nor did you catch the sound of his belt buckle and zipper being undone. 

You only felt it when a hand grabbed your uniform over your lower back and dragged you toward the seat where Mr. Levinson was sitting. Tripping over your own feet, you grinned widely and tossed your feather duster onto the bar cart, letting Mr. Levinson tow you backward until your legs bumped against the base of his seat. His spread thighs, clad in the black suit he was wearing, were on either side of you, caging you in.

“Need your help, sugar,” Mr. Levinson rumbled, his hands gripping your hips and guiding you down onto his lap. His palms were hot, burning through the thin satin of your dress, the heat spreading through your skin and going directly to your already leaking slit.

You weren’t wearing panties, of course, you never did when you were with Mr. Levinson, and your anticipation of him needing you already had you slick with arousal. It had been like that ever since the beginning, your body anticipating him, wanting him, needing him to relieve the ache of desire the seemed ever-present in his presence. And with your heart involved, it only heightened things, making you needier, wetter, for him. 

So you were already plenty ready to take Mr. Levinson when he dragged you down until your soaking sex brushed against the tip of his hot, hard cock. You braced your hands on the table in front of you, where Mr. Levinson’s work—including, you assumed, the contract he’d been discussing on the phone—was spread out. But you didn’t care to look closely because your entire being was focused down to the point where Mr. Levinson’s hardness slid between your folds, covering himself in your arousal.

He groaned, the sound low and sinful, and making your cunt clench with need. “Always so wet for me,” he murmured appreciatively, moving your hips in a circle so you were grinding down lightly on the tip of his cock. A breathy moan escaped your lips and you locked both your knees to stop yourself from trying to take Mr. Levinson’s cock in one motion. “How are you always so wet for me?” he muttered, almost as if to himself, a little bit of awe in his tone. His face was pressed against the back of your neck and he took in a deep breath, inhaling the scent of your perfume like he couldn’t get enough of it. 

Your heart thumped at the same time your pussy throbbed, your body enjoying the way he was touching you and speaking about you far too much. It occurred to you that you should say something light and flirty, brushing off his question, but when you opened your mouth, the truth spilled out instead. 

“I’m always thinking about you, Mr. Levinson,” you confessed on a gasp, pressing down against the thick head of his cock. “Always thinking about being filled up with your perfect cock, being split open by you, being used by you—just want to be your good little fuck toy.” Your voice had gone reedy with desperation by the end of your little speech, rubbing your wet slit shamelessly against the head of Mr. Levinson’s cock. 

You couldn’t see him from your position, but you could feel the thick hardness beneath you and you knew the size and girth of him intimately. Mr. Levinson was bigger than any man you’d ever been with before him, and, in your weakest moments, you were certain he’d ruined you for any other man. Even when you were alone, you could only think of Mr. Levinson’s perfect, thick cock, the stretch of being filled by him, the drag of him inside you. You’d come on his cock countless times and you’d come on your own fingers thinking of his cock even more. 

“Sugar,” Mr. Levinson bit out reproachfully, sitting up and pressing his chest to your back, his hands sliding from your hips to your chest, pulling down the front of your maid dress and groping your tits roughly. “You know what you’re meant to call me when you’re on my cock,” he reprimanded in a gruff voice, though his tone had no heat to it. 

Your inner walls clenched around nothing and a small whine slipped from your lips. “S-sorry,” you forced out between gasping breaths, your knees wobbling as you strained to hold yourself above his cock without impaling yourself on his thick length. “Sorry, daddy,” you said obediently. You didn’t know why but calling Mr. Levinson that suddenly felt too intimate, like you’d never be able to hide your feelings for him if you kept calling him that. But he was your employer and it was what he wanted, so you pushed your worries aside.

“S’alright, sugar,” he rumbled, pressing kisses to the back of your neck, his beard rasping pleasantly against your skin. “Now be a good girl and take daddy’s cock.” His fingers were plucking at your nipples, but your body really lit up at his command, excitement thrumming beneath your skin.

“Yes, daddy,” you said on gasp, lining yourself up with his cock. You started pushing yourself down on him, and even though you were sopping wet, it took some work before his thick head popped inside you. An urgent moan spilled from your mouth before you could stop yourself and your head hung down, your eyes catching on the sight of Mr. Levinson’s big hands groping your tits. 

“That’s it, sugar,” he rasped encouragingly. “You take me so well.” 

You kept moving, spurred on by Mr. Levinson’s praise as you rose up, letting his cock head slip free from you, before pressing down and taking him again, pushing yourself to take another inch. You gasped and panted, arms and legs straining to hold yourself up as you moved up and down his cock, taking him little by little, every inch stretching your hole to its limit.

“Such a good girl,” Mr. Levinson rumbled appreciatively. “Love watching you work yourself onto my fat cock like you’re greedy for it.” His voice was thick and warm, like honey dribbling down your spine, and it only made you more desperate, even more needy for him. 

“I am, daddy,” you huffed on a gasping breath. “I’m so greedy for your cock, I want it inside me,” you babbled desperately, working yourself faster and faster. Emotion rose up from your chest to your throat, making it feel difficult to breathe. Instinct clawed at you and you suddenly felt wild, out of control with your need to have Mr. Levinson’s cock buried fully inside you. “I want you so bad,” you half-sobbed, letting your wild desperation slip free. “I need you.” 

Then, with reckless determination, you forced yourself down, taking the rest of Mr. Levinson’s big cock inside you with one motion. The sudden, burning stretch made you shriek, your whole body going tense as an ache radiated from your center. Immediately, you knew you’d messed up and done something that would irrevocably change your relationship with Mr. Levinson.

Knowing that, tears began leaking from your eyes and once they started, you couldn’t stop, your crying worsening until you were sobbing. You buried your face in your hands, shoulders wracking while your employer’s cock was sheathed inside you to the hilt.

After a stunned moment, Mr. Levinson wrapped one arm firmly around your waist to hold you pinned to his lap while the other gripped your chin, his touch gentle but firm as he turned your face to look at him over your shoulder. When you kept your face covered by your hands, not wanting him to see the shameful display of emotion, he murmured soothing sounds and pressed soft kisses to your knuckles, his beard tickling your fingers. 

“Hey, hey, sugar, look at me,” he murmured in a low, comforting tone that made your heart thump pleasantly. “Are you hurt? Are you ok?” He sounded genuinely concerned, a little bit of panic in his tone. 

His questions tugged at your heart and even though you wanted to do what he said, you were so embarrassed by your moment of weakness. You felt like you’d shown your hand somehow, like you’d revealed to Mr. Levinson exactly how much you felt for him by acting so recklessly and taking his cock faster than you were ready. But even though you hid your emotions from Mr. Levinson, he could tell that something was wrong and that you were hurt.

“Please use your safe word if you need to—please,” Mr. Levinson said, and you were so surprised to hear him begging that you paused in your crying, peering at him between your fingers. “Please, look at me, sugar,” he implored, staring at you with his big, blue eyes, his eyebrows raised nearly into his hairline.  

The anguish in his voice plucked at your heartstrings and you slowly lowered your hands from your face, knowing your makeup was a mess. Timidly, you met Mr. Levinson’s gaze for a moment before quickly looking away. The concern roiling in his eyes was too intense as you tried to hide how much you wanted to believe he truly cared about you and wasn’t simply trying to take care of you as his employee.

“What was that, sugar?” Mr. Levinson asked, letting you get away with staring at the neat edge of his beard instead of meeting his eyes. You turned the question over in your head, trying to think of a reasonable excuse for your behavior that wasn’t admitting to your feelings, but came up with nothing. When you didn’t respond, Mr. Levinson tried a different tact. “Were you trying to hurt yourself?” he asked, a thread of exasperated concern in his tone.

Panic rose in your chest as you remembered a particular clause in the agreement you’d signed with your employer and you shook your head wildly. “No, no, no, I swear, Mr. Levinson,” you said so fast, your lips fumbled around the words. You forced yourself to meet his gaze, his blue eyes bright as he scrutinized your expression, trying to determine if you were telling the truth. “I wouldn’t do that—I know you don’t like seeing me in pain.”

Mr. Levinson seemed to relax a little, his gaze softening as his features shifted into a mask of concern. “Then why did you hurt yourself trying to take me so fast?” he asked. There were creases on either side of his eyes that gave him a sad look and you had to let your gaze drop because the expression on his face made you want to cry again. “You know I enjoy watching you work yourself on me,” he went on in a low, rumbling voice. “Were you trying to get it over with?” he asked softly, sadly. “Are you no longer happy with our arrangement?”

The panic you’d been feeling wrapped unpleasantly around your heart and throat, making you feel like you were being strangled and you blurted out the first words you could think to say. “No, no, no, no, no, oh god, no, it’s not that, Mr. Levinson, I promise it’s not that,” you cried, more tears leaking from your eyes as you desperately tried to protest that you were unhappy with him. If anything, you were too happy and that was the problem. Reaching for his wrist where his hand still held your face. You squeezed it hard, clinging to him as you continued to cry and shake your head, squirming on his lap. 

“Ok, ok, sugar,” Mr. Levinson said soothingly, nuzzling his nose and beard against your cheek. Then he loosened his arm around your waist, moving his hands to grip your hips firmly over your maid outfit. “Stand up for me,” he urged, in a soft, gentle voice. 

You didn’t really want to move, a little concerned about how it’d feel to lift yourself off of Mr. Levinson’s cock, but you knew he wouldn’t have told you to stand if he didn’t have a reason. So you planted your feet on the floor of the plane and stood shakily. Though you’d bitten your lip to prevent any noise from escaping, a pathetic whimper slipped out as his cock slid from your tight hole. It stung a little, but what was worse was how unbearably empty you felt. Fresh tears tracked down your cheeks as you wobbled on unsteady feet and pulled up the top of your maid outfit over you tits while you waited for Mr. Levinson’s next command. 

Instead of issuing one, he turned you around and pulled you back down onto his lap, your legs straddling his, your knees wedged into the seat on either side of his hips. With his gentle, but firm grip, he tilted your face up to look at him, which you did reluctantly, knowing you must’ve looked a mess. When you flicked your gaze up to Mr. Levinson’s, meeting his stare head on, you found he was staring at you with so much concern filling his eyes, it took your breath away.

It didn’t help that he looked so, so handsome, his expression open, his blue eyes intense as he stared at you. His brown hair was still swept back perfectly, looking like he’d run his hands through it, and his beard was neatly trimmed. The planes of his face were so familiar to you that just looking at him brought you more comfort than you ever could have imagined and you relaxed a little on his lap. 

Gently, so gently it nearly broke your heart, Mr. Levinson held your chin in one hand and started cleaning your face with his handkerchief. When you glanced down, you realized he’d taken it from the breast pocket of his suit jacket, which made something rattle inside of you. He was even compromising his own appearance to take care of you. You didn’t know if you were worth all the fuss, but when you tried to jerk your chin from Mr. Levinson’s grip and take the handkerchief to clean yourself up, he only tutted at you and shushed you until you settled once again.

Anxiety clawed your stomach to shreds the longer you sat on Mr. Levinson’s lap and let him take care of you. It was too intimate and you felt too vulnerable, like your lips might betray you at any moment and let slip how much you cared for him. It never even occurred to you that he might care for you, too. You assumed his actions were simply a kindness from employer to employee.

To avoid confessing something you weren’t sure you were ready for Mr. Levinson to know, you tried to extract yourself from the situation. “Please, Mr. Levinson,” you started, your voice so raspy from crying you took a moment to clear your throat. “If you’ll just excuse me, I can clean myself up and come back,” you said, meeting his eyes and giving him a pleading look. “I can still take care of your stress—please, let me take care of you.” Your voice tapered off into a whisper and you worried you’d revealed too much, especially when Mr. Levinson stopped for a moment, letting his hand fall away from your face while he examined your expression.

“Sugar,” he said, lightly chiding. Though he’d stopped cleaning you with his handkerchief, Mr. Levinson licked his thumb, swiping it beneath your eye before doing the same with the other. You were so stunned by the care he was taking with you that you didn’t protest again. He seemed to take that as you listening to him, so he went on. “First of all,” his eyes flicked to yours, the blue of his gaze swirling with affection and emotions you didn’t dare name. “No more calling me Mr. Levinson,” he said, sternness in his gaze and tone. 

“B-but your cock’s not in me,” you protested softly, your brows furrowing in a confused frown. 

His face softened, his mouth curving in a smirk. “I know, sugar,” he said dryly, flicking his gaze down to where his still half-hard cock was laying between your thighs. Despite the emotion and anxiety filling your body, you felt a pulse of need at the sight of him, but before you could reach for him, Mr. Levinson was dragging your attention back to him, tilting your face to look at him. “I want you to call me Ari,” he explained, his eyes searching your face, waiting for your reaction. “Mr. Levinson is too impersonal.”

You went very still, your heart racing in your chest, trying not to show any kind of reaction to his words, especially when he was watching you so closely. Your anxiety quickly turned to panic as you considered what his request would mean. Calling him daddy when he was fucking you made it difficult enough not to get more attached than you already were, but if you had to drop the pretense of employer and employee entirely and start calling him Ari… You didn’t know if your heart would survive it. There would be nothing reminding you that your relationship with him was nothing more than a business arrangement. 

It seemed like such a small thing, to call him Ari, but you knew if you did, you’d fall in love with him. “I can’t,” you rasped, shaking your head, more tears gathering in your eyes. You blinked them away, not wanting to cry any more in front of him. “I can’t.” 

Ari made a concerned sound, wrapping his arms around your back and pulling you in closer. “Why, sugar?” he asked in a calm tone. His palms skated up and down your spine as he tried to soothe you. “Why won’t you call me by my name?”

It was on the tip of your tongue to tell him, to lay it out and explain that if you called him by his name, you’d fall even more in love with him than you already were. But fear held your tongue. You dropped your gaze to his tie, running your hands down the length of it before twisting the silk between your fingers. 

“Can’t we just go back to twenty minutes ago when I wasn’t crying in your lap?” you asked in a small voice, unable to look at him in that moment.

“Sugar,” Ari said. The pet name he’d cooed and murmured and groaned so many times sounded so much more affectionate in that moment, even with his voice threaded through with steel. “Look at me.”

Letting out a small sigh, you let his tie fall from between your fingers and dragged your gaze up to his face. He looked even more concerned and unhappy, the corners of his mouth turned down in a frown. You wanted to smooth the frown lines from between his brows, but you didn’t know if he’d respond well to your touch. 

“Do I need to remind you that an arrangement like ours only works because of communication?” he asked in a stern voice he typically reserved for his business associates. You didn’t like the feeling it inspired in you, like you’d been a bad girl and Ari was disappointed in you. But he wasn’t done. “When we began, we talked at length about what would be required to make this arrangement work, did we not?” He raised his eyebrows, waiting until you nodded before he continued. “Do you remember what the very first line of our agreement says?”

Of course you knew what the first line said. You’d practically memorized the entire agreement before you’d signed it, having read it over so many times to make sure you hadn’t missed anything. So you met Ari’s gaze and recited, “‘Both parties agree to be open and honest with the other about all things, especially in matters affecting the relationship.’” 

Ari looked mournful as he scrutinized your face. “You’re violating our agreement, sugar,” he said softly, like he was breaking bad news to you. 

Hearing him say it drove his point home and you looked away from his too-handsome face, burying your own in your hands as you tried to block out the truth. Ari was going to fire you, you were sure of it. Either you kept your feelings to yourself and Ari fired you for breaking the first rule of your agreement by not communicating with him, or you told him how you felt and he’d fire you for getting too involved. Either way, you were going to lose him and the thought was too heartbreaking to bear. 

Your shoulders slumped in defeat and you started pulling away, trying to extract yourself from Ari’s hold so you could stand up and put as much distance between you and the man you had feelings for. Maybe if you did that, it wouldn’t hurt quite so much when he fired you. 

But Ari wasn’t letting you go. As much as you tried to disentangle yourself, he only held on more firmly, refusing to let you do more than squirm a little on his lap. “Please, sugar,” he begged, his voice thin in a way you’d never heard before. Desperate. “We can draw up a new agreement if you’re unhappy,” he said, his big hands holding you in his grasp while you tried to find a way to escape. “I’ll amend our agreement however you want—please just tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it.”

That made you go still and you looked at him stunned, realizing he had no idea what the problem was because if he did, he’d know there was nothing he could do. All of a sudden, frustration rose up in you, twining with the helplessness you felt and shifting into a roiling anger. “You can’t fix this, Ari—Mr. Levinson,” you burst out, correcting yourself, not even knowing when you’d started calling him Ari in your own head. “There’s no fixing this!” 

Hurt and devastation gathered in Ari’s expression and you had to look away, glancing down at your hands hanging limply against your thighs. Between your legs, Ari’s cock was still out, and you nearly burst into tears at the way your body responded at the sight of him, wet gathering between your thighs like you didn’t know it was already over. 

With a defeated sigh, you shook your head and let your deepest, darkest secret slip free. “I have a crush on you,” you whispered, barely loud enough to be heard over your pounding heart.

Ari seemed to freeze, his hands tightening where they gripped you, like he was reminding himself that you were solid and real. For a long moment, it seemed like he didn’t even breathe. “What?” he asked quietly, carefully. You couldn’t read the tone of his voice, but it didn’t matter. The words were out and you were going to be fired. 

“I have a crush on you,” you said more clearly, your voice filled with misery. “I like you, Ari, I’ve liked you for weeks.” You dared a glance at his face, but he still wore a stunned expression, like he didn’t believe what you were saying. You smiled sadly at him, letting your eyes sweep over the familiar planes of his face. “I’m already breaking the agreement, I let my feelings get involved.”

Your words seemed to snap Ari free of his shock because his eyes refocused on yours, and they were filled with fiery emotion. “Fuck that part of the agreement,” he growled. Then he was grabbing your face and holding you still while his mouth descended on yours, capturing your lips in a fierce kiss. He swallowed down the surprised sound you made, his tongue delving between your lips and claiming you in the most possessive kiss he’d ever given you.

A shiver of arousal slid down your spine as his hands smoothed over your back, not stopping until they slid beneath the skirt of your maid costume and he was grabbing big handfuls of your ass. You moaned into his mouth as he dragged you closer until your chests were pressed together. Your fingers slid into Ari’s beard, nails scratching lightly at his skin and making him groan before your hands dove into his hair, holding onto him just as tightly as he was holding onto you.

When Ari finally pulled away, you let out a loud gasp, only then realizing how oxygen-deprived you were, but you wouldn’t have given up the experience of that kiss for anything—not even a few extra breaths. Your heart was racing excitedly and your sex was throbbing between your thighs, but you still felt like you were standing on shaky ground and you needed Ari to make it stable. So you asked in a small, tentative voice, “You’re not angry?”

Ari’s expression melted into one of pure affection. “Oh, sugar, no,” he cooed, kissing the tip of your nose, then the apples of your cheeks. “I’m so far from angry,” he promised you, dropping a kiss to your lips like he couldn’t help himself. Then he pressed his forehead to yours, his eyes fluttering closed as he let out a small sigh. “I’m so fucking sorry, though,” he rumbled, his voice filled with regret. “I should’ve told you sooner that I have feelings for you.”

The world stopped spinning. Everything else in the galaxy ceased to exist except for you and Ari and the words he’d spoken. His private plane hung suspended 40,000 feet in the air above an earth that had halted its revolution around the sun. At least, that’s how it felt to hear Ari confess he had feelings for you, too. You didn’t breathe, but you managed to ask, “You have a crush on me?”

Ari chuckled. “That’s one way to put it,” he said ruefully, before stealing another kiss. Then he leaned back and looked you in the eye, like he wanted you to see the sincerity in his expression. “Another way of putting it is that I can’t stop thinking about you,” he confessed, his mouth curving in a smile as he stared at you. “I miss you when you’re not with me, and when you are with me, it’s the happiest I’ve felt in my entire life.”

“Ari,” you whispered, your throat clogged with emotion and happy tears pooling in your eyes. Your hands, which had settled on the lapels of his jacket, curled around the edges of the fabric and you dragged him in for another kiss. It was messy, all sliding lips and licking tongues, both of you desperate to get closer. When you finally pulled away, you murmured against his lips. “I feel the same way about you.”

“Mm, sugar,” he rumbled, pressing one of his big hands against your lower back until your slit brushed against the hard ridge of his cock. You both moaned, though yours was a little breathless while his was a deep rumble in his chest. “I think about your tight cunt wrapped around my cock so much, I can barely get any work done even when you’re not with me,” he spilled his filthy confession in your ear, his hands on your hips guiding you to press down further on his cock. “I have to stop myself from begging you to be with me all the time because I know if you were, I’d never get anything done.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad to me,” you whispered in a husky voice, nuzzling his beard while you rocked your slit against his hard length. “You have such a stressful job, daddy,” you murmured, trying your best at sounding sexy and seductive. “You deserve a permanent free use fuck toy, and I wanna be that for you—always there to help relieve your stress.” You nipped at his ear before licking the skin beneath it, tasing the saltiness of him and making him groan while he shuddered beneath you. 

“Fuck,” he rasped, hips bucking up against your dripping slit. “You’re as insatiable as I am,” he muttered, burying his face in your neck and kissing your skin. “My perfect little toy.”

“Mhm,” you hummed in agreement, grinning against his throat. Your lips fell open on a breathy moan when your clit rubbed against the head of Ari’s cock and you began rocking against him faster as your need built. “Can I take your cock now, daddy?” you purred in his ear, your voice turning into a whine as you begged, “Please.” 

Leaning back, Ari took your chin in his grip and he scanned your face. You weren’t sure what he saw—you knew you’d cried off most of your makeup, leaving your face bare and vulnerable. But you also felt like your expression was more open for him that it had been in weeks, your feelings for him plain on your face. His own face softened as he looked at you, his mouth hitching up in a crooked smile. 

“You won’t hurt yourself this time, right, sugar?” he asked, raising his eyebrows expectantly. There was a hint of warning in his tone that made you giggle and shake your head. 

Your chest felt light with happiness, the anxiety leeched from your body entirely, replaced with only arousal and affection. “No, daddy, I won’t hurt myself,” you said in your sweetest voice. You took a deep breath and then looked him in the eye. “I’m sorry I did that—I was scared of losing you.” 

Ari’s eyes went soft. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, leaning in and giving you a sweet kiss. When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead to yours. “You have me—you have my whole heart, sugar. Keep it safe, will you?”

“I will, as long as you keep my heart safe, too, Ari,” you murmured, your words hushed like prayer. 

“Always,” he rasped before he kissed you hard, showing you he meant what he said. 

But you weren’t content to only kiss Ari, you wanted him inside you. You wanted to feel your bodies locked together in the basest, most intimate way. So you pulled back from the kiss and rose up on your knees, hands braced on his shoulders. 

Staring down at Ari, his face upturned toward you, you were struck all over again by how handsome he was. The larger-than-life CEO in his expensive suits, with his perfect mouth, groomed beard and sparkling eyes, was staring at you like you were his entire world. His gaze was filled with desire, all of it for you.

You felt light-headed with delight and giddy glee, the kind that came from getting everything you wanted, and a wide smile spread across your face. You couldn’t wait any longer to have him inside you, so you gripped his cock and rubbed the tip against your dripping hole, letting yourself moan when it brushed against your clit. Trembling with shivers of need, you put an end to your own teasing and pushed down on the tip of Ari’s cock, taking it inside you. He let out a low groan as you exhaled shakily, reveling in the aching stretch of him inside you as you sank down another inch.

“Careful, sugar,” Ari warned, his voice as rough as gravel and making you shiver. His hands had slid beneath the skirt of your maid outfit and his fingers were digging into the soft flesh of your ass. 

You huffed a light laugh. “I know, daddy,” you told him in a breathless voice. To show you knew what you were doing, you rose up until only the very tip of him was inside you, then pushed down on him deliberately. Using your hands braced on his shoulders, you worked yourself up and down on him slowly, never taking more than you could handle. 

All the while, Ari praised you, a steady stream of adoring words flowing from his mouth. “Good girl,” he murmured, “Such a good girl for daddy.” His hands groped your ass roughly, spreading you wider so you could take him more easily. “Taking my cock so well, being such a good little toy.” Ari’s head fell back against the cushioned seat, his eyes raking up and down your body as you rose and fell on his cock. “That’s it, sugar, take it nice and slow.”

You moaned happily, a blissed-out smile on your face as you tipped your head back, enjoying the feeling of Ari’s cock stretching you out while his praise washed over you. You were so caught up that it surprised you when you pressed down and found you’d taken Ari all the way to the hilt. Your half-lidded eyes opened wide and you looked at Ari with your mouth in a surprised o shape. 

He wore a soft smile. “See how good it can be when you don’t rush and hurt yourself?” he teased, as if you hadn’t taken his cock hundreds of times before stepping onto his plane that day. But his crooked grin was so charming you couldn’t help but laugh, smacking his chest lightly. His eyes darkened with desire as he sat up, pressing flush against you and holding you down on his cock, making you moan unabashedly. “Now tell daddy how good it feels having his cock buried deep in your tight cunt, sugar.”

Rocking a little on his lap, feeling his hardness rub against your sensitive inner walls, it was easy to tell Ari the truth. “Feels sooo good, daddy,” you purred, panting a little from the work of taking him and the need overwhelming you. “I could sit on your cock all day,” you confessed, the words spilling from you before you could think them through. “Wanna feel you buried inside me for hours.” 

Ari hummed like he was considering your words. “Mm, you did say you were interested in cockwarming when we discussed our agreement, didn’t you, sugar?” he murmured, pressing little kisses along the line of your jaw. “Do you think you could stay nice and still for me while I worked?”

Your mind was fuzzy with pleasure and desire, the feel of his cock wedged deep inside your dripping pussy taking up so much room in your head. The sensation of his soft lips and coarse beard against your jaw wasn’t helping, but you took a moment to think about what he’d had asked. You pictured it—sitting on Ari’s lap with his cock inside you while he worked. He’d use you to keep his cock warm while you’d have nothing to do except feel him. Your pussy clamped down on his hardness at the thought and you knew you liked the idea. 

“Yeah,” you whispered in a husky voice, arching your body and pressing your tits against Ari’s chest while your lips grazed against the shell of his ear. “I could be your good girl—a perfect little toy for you, daddy, keeping your cock nice and warm and safe while you work.” 

Groaning at your words, you could feel his cock twitch inside you, his hands flexing against your ass before sliding up to grab your hips. “My perfect girl,” he rasped, using his grip on you to pick you up and slam you back down on his cock. “We can try cockwarming—after I’ve used you like my free use fuck toy.”

A delicious shiver raced through your body at his words and you lifted yourself up so he could thrust into you from below. “Use me, daddy,” you urged in a breathless, panting voice. “Use my pussy to take out all your frustration—I’m your stress relief, so use me,” you begged, your tone desperate and pleading.

“Fuck,” he growled, his fingers digging into your hips so harshly you were sure he’d leave bruises behind as he held you tightly and pounded up into you. His thrusts were so rough, your tits were jiggling in the top of your dress, threatening to free themselves from the silky confines. Instead, you pulled the fabric down yourself, pinching your nipples while Ari watched. “Fuck, yes, play with your tits while you bounce on daddy’s cock, sugar,” he rumbled, his darkened eyes fixed on the sight of you in front of him.

You plucked and twisted your nipples, making yourself clench down on Ari’s cock, which only drove him wilder. His thrusts were so hard and fast, you could feel your release rising up inside you quickly. You knew it would devastate you, but you still hurtled toward it, unable to stop yourself from holding back anything now that you’d confessed your feelings for Ari. 

“Fuck, you’re so fucking pretty and perfect, sugar,” Ari mumbled, staring at you through heavy-lidded eyes, like he couldn’t bear to stop watching you bounce on his cock. “And you’re all fucking mine, aren’t you sugar—all mine.” His voice was a possessive growl that sent throbbing pulses straight to your clit. You’d never heard him sound like that or be so possessive over you, but you found that you liked it a lot.

“Yes, daddy,” you said on a gasp, nodding as you bounced. “All yours, all yours, all yours.” You knew you were babbling, but it felt so good to admit the claiming words. You were his, your heart and your body belonged to Ari and it felt wonderful to finally say it out loud. 

Leaning forward and capturing your mouth with his, Ari silenced you with a kiss. It was a mess, sloppy kiss, but it felt so good, you moaned into Ari’s mouth. He tore away, not moving far and mumbling against your mouth as he spoke. “Rub your clit,” he growled, a hint of desperation in his order, like he was getting close. “Need you to come on my cock, sugar.”

You wasted no time reaching between your thighs and rubbing your clit, the tips of your fingers brushing against his thick length as he pounded up into you. You both moaned into each other’s mouths as your pleasure rose higher in tandem. And then, suddenly, the feeling of his cock spearing into you over and over again was too much and you shattered apart. You came with a piercing scream, rubbing your clit as Ari kept fucking you through your release, your other hand clinging to his hair like you needed to hold on to something to stop from floating away.

Ari groaned at the feel of your grasping cunt, still rutting into you as you were drowned in wave after wave of pleasure, barely able to do more than bounce on his cock and whimper out happy sounds. “Mine, mine, mine,” he growled against your lips as his thrusts turned erratic and he finally grabbed your hips and pulled you down roughly on his cock while he came with a vicious grunt. 

You rocked together, feeling his cock twitch inside you as he spilled his seed in your cunt. It felt too good to stop, so you kept grinding on him until you were both shaking and shivering from the overstimulation. “Daddy, daddy, daddy,” you babbled, wrapping your arms around him, both hands digging into his soft brown hair. 

Finally, when you were both worn out, you collapsed against Ari’s chest as he leaned back heavily in the cushioned plane seat. Both your chests were heaving as you each caught your breath, your nipples brushing pleasantly against the silk of his jacket. Beneath your clothes, you could feel your heart beating in the same rhythm as Ari’s. 

“Feeling good, sugar?” Ari asked after a moment, his hand stroking up and down your back soothingly while the other held onto your thigh in a possessive grip. You didn’t think you’d ever stop enjoying the new possessive streak in him.

With great effort, you pushed up enough to look at him. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” you teased, a smirk on your face. “It is my job to make sure you feel good.”

Ari grinned, moving his hand from your back to cup your cheek and pull you in for a sweet kiss. “I feel very good, sugar,” he rumbled, his words laced with a deeper meaning and you knew he was talking about how you’d both confessed your feelings for each other. “That reminds me—when we get home, I’m tearing up our agreement.”

Gasping, you pulled back, hurt stabbing through your heart. Your eyes darted across his face, a small insecure part of you telling you he didn’t want you anymore, despite everything he’d said to the contrary. “Why?” you asked in a shaky whisper. 

Ari chased after you, both his hands cradling your face as he held you still while he stared into your eyes. “Because I don’t want you to be my employee anymore—I want you to be so much more than that,” he explained patiently, smiling when you relaxed on his lap. “I want you to move in with me, be my partner, my girl—my wife, eventually.” 

You laughed the last bit of your anxiety away, the sound breathless with your happiness. “Oh,” you said simply, then a wide, beaming smile spread across your face. “That does sound a little better than our current arrangement.” 

“A little?” he repeated, his brows lowering over his darkened eyes, his expression turning predatory. Before you could tell him you were teasing, he pounced, peppering your face with kisses until you were giggling uncontrollably and squirming on his lap, his cock shifting and hardening again inside you. When you moaned and rocked your hips deliberately on him, he finally stopped, letting out a ragged breath. “Mm, I think I deserve some cockwarming after that little comment, sugar,” he rumbled, one hand pressing down firmly on your lower back until you stilled. 

“Yes, daddy,” you said on a happy sigh, letting yourself melt against his chest. “I’ll cockwarm you until you need to use me again.” You lay your head against Ari’s shoulder, settling in while he went back to his work. The sounds of rustling papers met your ears, but Ari’s hand never moved from your lower back, like he enjoyed holding you against him too much. 

After a few moments of contented silence, Ari made a humming sound that got your attention and you stirred a little to let him know you were listening. 

“We may be throwing out our old arrangement, but we’ll need to revisit our limits and boundaries, especially if you’re moving in with me,” he said, his voice warm and calm. You could hear the sated satisfaction in his tone, which only made you snuggle deeper into his chest. 

“Will I have to wear my maid outfits all the time if I move in with you?” you asked facetiously, your lips curling into a smirk that you hid against Ari’s throat. 

Ari’s hand on your back moved and a second later he swatted you lightly on the ass. “Just for that, I’m going to buy you ten more slutty little maid outfits so you can wear a different one every day of the week,” he rumbled, but there was no real heat to his threat. You muffled a giggle against his shoulder and he pressed a kiss to your temple, then you both fell silent for a moment. 

But there was a question rattling around in your head, one that had popped into it not long after Ari had mentioned tearing up your agreement. Taking a deep breath, you voiced your concern. “What am I going to do for work?” you asked in a soft voice. 

Ari hummed thoughtfully, his hand on your lower back rubbing you soothingly. “You wouldn’t need to work, sugar,” he said gently. “But if you want, I can find some work for you to do—maybe you could teach Drysdale how to write a proper contract.”

You huffed a laugh. “As if that pompous asshole would listen to a woman you used to fuck for money,” you said derisively, picturing the man with the sharp eyes and the slicked back hair. You had no shame about your arrangement with Ari, but what little you knew about Ransom Drysdale made you think he wouldn’t have much respect for you.

“He doesn’t know about our arrangement,” Ari said, surprising you. “No one at my company does.”

“Not even Mr. Barber?” you asked, sitting up so you could look Ari in the eye. “But I saw the way he looked at me.” You’d only met Andy Barber a handful of times in the six months you’d worked for Ari, but when he’d looked between you and your employer, there had been a knowing look in his eye. You’d chalked it up to Ari telling his right-hand man about your arrangement. After all, there was nothing in the agreement saying Ari couldn’t talk about the arrangement, only that you couldn’t.

Ari rolled his eyes. “Barber thinks I hired you for some eye candy around the penthouse, which he’s not entirely wrong about,” Ari said, shooting you a wink that made you laugh. You’d caught Ari staring at you plenty of times throughout the months of your employment with him. “But they only knew you as my maid. Even the agency that sent you thought the position was for a maid.” He looked you dead in the eye. “Our arrangement was between the two of us, and only us.”

“Oh,” you said, mulling that over. You liked the idea that Ari had kept the true nature of your relationship to himself. It didn’t feel like he was hiding you, since he’d been all too happy to introduce you to his associates whenever they’d stopped by his penthouse. Instead, it felt like Ari was treating your relationship with the respect it deserved because it was private, only between the two of you.

“Frankly, I doubt Barber or Drysdale will blink an eye when they learn we’ve gotten together,” Ari said offhandedly, drawing you out of your thoughts. When you gave him a confused look, he went on. “They told me thousands of times I was an idiot for not ‘locking you down’ sooner.” 

That made you snort. You could hardly believe either man would tell their CEO boss to lock down a lowly maid. But then, both Andy and Ransom had been complimentary of how pretty you were, how well you made their drinks and how sweet you were. Shaking those thoughts from your head, you pinned Ari with a stern look of your own. 

“Still, I don’t think Drysdale will be happy to listen to your former maid,” you pointed out, your lips flattening into an unhappy line.

Ari considered that for a moment, then said, “He will when he realizes you’re ten times smarter than him.” Ari grinned and gave you a kiss that somewhat reassured you. 

But you still had your doubts and you gave Ari an unconvinced look, but decided to drop it. There were plenty of other more important things you’d have to discuss with Ari before the possibility of you working with Ransom became a reality. So you lay back down against Ari’s chest.   

“I suppose I could just be your full-time cockwarmer, instead,” you murmured teasingly as you snuggled against Ari’s shoulder, getting comfortable for however long you’d be sitting in his lap. You knew Ari expected a nice, docile little cockwarmer, but you couldn’t help yourself from clenching down on his cock, making him grunt with surprise.

“Settle,” he murmured firmly, swatting your ass again. “If that’s the role you want, you’re going to need to be quiet and behave.” His voice was warm but stern and it made you want to follow his command. You sighed contentedly and settled down, letting yourself relax. It wasn’t long before you were drifting off to sleep, lulled by the soft sounds of Ari working and the steady beating of his heart. 

You didn’t know how long you slept, but when you roused, the first thing you noticed was how you could feel Ari’s cock still buried inside you. A happy sigh spilled from your lips and you snuggled deeper into Ari’s chest, enjoying the silkiness of his suit jacket beneath your cheek. If you felt a twinge of discomfort in your hips at the way your legs were still splayed on either side of Ari’s lap, you ignored it.

The quiet sounds of rustling papers and fingers typing on a laptop keyboard filtered to you beyond the steady beating of Ari’s heart. It nearly lulled you back to sleep, but another protesting twinge in your hips made you whimper softly, though you bit your lip against the sound, trying not to call attention to yourself.

“You awake?” Ari asked in his deep rumbling voice. The rustling and typing stopped, his hands smoothing down your back and over your hips. You let out a soft whine when his warm hands rubbed your aching hips, squirming to try to get more comfortable. “What’s wrong, sugar?”

“Mm, m’hips hurt,” you mumbled, still shifting on his lap. But no matter how you moved, there was still that annoying pain in your joints. 

“Oh, sugar,” Ari cooed, his big hands slipping beneath your maid outfit and massaging your hips, easing your aching muscles. He brushed a kiss to your cheek. “Do you want a break from cockwarming me?” he asked in a soft voice, sympathy in his tone. 

“Nooo,” you protested sleepily. Your inner walls clamped down on Air’s cock, holding him tight enough to drag a groan from him. You hid a smile against his chest as you pressed closer, burrowing beneath his suit jacket. 

Ari chuckled at your antics. “Alright, sugar, alright,” he dropped another kiss to your temple as he pulled his hands away from your hips to go back to work. “But tell me if you want to switch positions—you can be more comfortable and still cockwarm me,” he said, a smile in his tone. 

You hummed in acknowledgement and snuggled against Ari’s chest, your arms wrapping around his back beneath his jacket and your face pressed against his neck. But that pesky twinge in your hips returned and you sighed, trying to adjust yourself to get comfortable. But it was no use and another whimper escaped you. 

“Remember the rules, sugar,” Ari warned gently, his voice soft but threaded through with steel. “No hurting yourself.” 

Another, frustrated sigh fell from your lips. You didn’t want to move, but Ari was right, you were just hurting yourself by staying in that same position. So you sat up and looked at Ari, his eyes already on you, his focus diverted entirely from his work. “I still want to cockwarm you, but can I turn around?” you asked 

Ari’s face softened and he smiled warmly down at you. “Of course, sugar,” he said. Then his big hands were helping extract you from his lap, grunting when you lifted off his cock, his eyes zeroing in on your thighs as you felt some of his come leak out of your pussy. But with a shake of his head, he returned to the task of helping you stand. 

Before you sat back down on Ari’s lap, he insisted you shed the maid costume, his reasoning being that you still had a couple more hours of your flight and he wanted you to be comfortable. You liked the idea of sitting in his lap naked while he was still buttoned up in his suit, so you didn’t protest. 

Once the outfit was tossed onto the seat next to Ari and your heels were kicked away, he pressed soft, reverent kisses to your belly and breasts, before turning you around. With the help of his guiding hands, you sank back onto Ari’s cock, unable to stifle your moan as you slid down easily on his thick length. 

“Feel how perfectly I fit inside you,” Ari rasped in your ear as he pulled your back against his chest. One of his hands toyed with your tits, playing idly with your nipples while the other slid down and cupped your sex possessively. “It’s because this cunt is mine. You’re mine—aren’t you, sugar?” 

“Yours,” you agreed on a soft exhale, arching your body into his hands, reveling in his touch. 

He was slowly stoking your arousal again, but after a few moments, his hands left your body and he reached for a blanket. You let out a soft whine of protest, but Ari only shushed you. He wrapped the blanket around your bodies, tucking you in against him. 

“Thank you, daddy,” you murmured, your body settling despite the fire of desire in your core. You’d long since gotten used to being aroused in Ari’s presence, always turned on by his sheer proximity, so cockwarming him wasn’t much different, except the added, exquisite stretch of him inside you. And you loved it, you loved being connected to him in such a base, physical way even when you weren’t actively taking pleasure in one another. 

“Anything for you, sugar,” Ari said absently, and you could tell he was refocusing on his work. But then he squeezed you lightly in a hug, brushing a kiss to your cheek and making you giggle at the rasp of his beard. “You just be my perfect cockwarmer, my eager little toy, and I’ll take care of the rest. All I ask is that you be mine.” 

Ari’s words were a new arrangement of sorts, though you knew there was plenty more he’d insist on discussing once he’d torn up your old agreement. Still, you were more than happy to agree to his simple request, especially since it meant you no longer had to be wary of your crush on him. Because Ari had a crush on you, too, and once the plane landed, you’d start working toward building a life together, and all that that entailed.

“I’m yours,” you assured him, finding it easy to tell Ari how you felt after you’d both confessed your feelings for one another. “And I’m so glad I’m yours, Ari,” you murmured, warmth and contentedness in your voice. Your heart swelled with happiness, knowing your words to be true before you even spoke them. “I know you’ll always keep my heart safe.” 

Breach Of Contract

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Summary: “Its a simple set of of rules.” The stark white paper was categorically organized and as equally professionally condescending as you imagined. However, you wanted to do something good for the world and sitting back, firming the problems was causing you distress.

Truly, putting up with a few rules was the least of your problems.

The future FLOTUS is to be referred to as Miss Carter when you are assisting in her presence, not Mrs. Rogers or Peggy Rogers.

Do not overtake Miss Carter’s conversation, she will get irritated and it is her right to speak when she wants to.

Senator Rogers must have the work environment as stress free as possible for him while you’re on the job by doing the menial things.

Interns must report to the office every morning with their specific errand completion and must look presentable but not outshine senator Rogers and Miss Carter.

Do not sleep with anyone in your circles, you will reprimanded and fired.

Keep Senator Rogers happy and keep him focused — by any means necessary.

“6 rules,” you cursed as you stared at the positive pregnancy test in your hands, “and you had to break all 6.”

the best birthday gift

pairing: captain america steve rogers x fem!reader

summary: you attend a party at avengers tower celebrating the fourth of july and steve rogers' birthday and make a fool of yourself when introduced to captain america, the man you've crushed on for most of your life. but when you run into him while avoiding the fireworks show, he's more than happy to spend his birthday distracting you from the party.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation, oral sex (m receiving), semi-public sex, face-slapping, light bdsm, piv sex, some spanking, breeding kink, anxiety but also warm fuzzy feelings

word count: 12.9k

a/n: i've been debating for a little while whether i should post some fics from my ao3 that i published before making this tumblr and i decided to just do it. since it's practically steve's birthday, i figured i'd start with this one, which is a looong one-shot i wrote for his birthday last year. it was originally just going to be the first part in the hallway but it ended up longer because i just kept writing lol. anyway, if you've already read this before on my ao3, thank you!! and if it's new to you, hope you enjoy!!

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Somehow you’d managed to snag an empty elevator in Avengers Tower and, for a few minutes at least, you didn’t have to worry about hiding your nervousness as you ascended to the party being thrown on the upper floors by Tony Stark. The billionaire superhero was throwing the shindig to celebrate both the Fourth of July and the birthday of his fellow Avenger, Steve Rogers—better known as Captain America to the rest of the world. And you, since you’d never met the Star-Spangled Man, though you’d had a crush on him for most of your life.

You ran your damp palms nervously down the front of your cotton sundress, making sure not to wrinkle the pretty fabric. It was the color of the summer sky and covered with a pattern of bright red cherries. You’d paired it with wedge sandals and minimal makeup. When you’d gotten dressed, you’d felt good about your outfit choice. The sundress hugged your curves in all the right ways, making you feel more sure of yourself. You knew you’d need that boost of confidence to get through a party filled with the Avengers and New York City’s elite. And what was more perfect for a summer party than a sundress?

But as you stepped out of the lift and into the party, your stomach felt like it was dropping back down the elevator shaft as you realized you’d completely misjudged Stark’s Fourth of July party. As far as you could see through the crowed of people gathered in the massive, multilevel entertaining space, everyone had dressed more for a swanky New York City party than the casual shindig you’d been expecting. Your fingers twisted in the fabric of your dress as you berated yourself for expecting the Avengers to throw a backyard barbecue. You were just debating whether anyone would notice if you turned around and left the party you clearly didn’t belong at when you heard your name being called.

“Y/N!” Agent Phil Coulson was weaving through the crowd toward you and your shoulders, which had been hovering somewhere around your ears, lowered somewhat. You stood at the edge of the crowd and waited for your mentor to finish closing the distance. It gave you a chance to take in the brightly colored Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts Coulson wore. He stood out as much as you did among the Avengers Tower party crowd, which made you breathe a sigh of relief.

“Hi Coulson!” you greeted brightly, trying to hide your nerves. Even though your exuberance was mostly fake, you were genuinely happy to see the senior agent. He stopped in front of you and leaned in for a kiss on your cheek.

“Don’t be nervous,” he said lowly in your ear and you realized he’d seen right through you, making you blush. But his words gave you a little boost of confidence and you were grateful for his presence.

A moment later, Agent Melinda May came to a stop next to Coulson, having trailed him through the crowd. She blended in better with her black jeans, dark top and black leather jacket—inwardly, you balked at wearing leather in the summer heat—even if she was dressed more casually than most of the other women in attendance.

“Hi May!” you greeted her cheerily, some of the fake brightness in your voice replaced with actual happiness at being near people you knew and liked. She nodded her head in response, a slight curve at the corner of her mouth that was almost a smile. It had taken you a while of working with May to realize that look was the same as a full smile on anyone else.

“You look great, Y/N!” Coulson exclaimed, somehow knowing exactly the root of your anxiousness without even having to ask—and making you feel somewhat better about it. He turned to the stoic agent at his side, who also happened to be his wife. “Doesn’t she look great, May?”

“Sweet as pie,” May responded in that dry tone of hers, a sparkle of mischief in her eyes and a secretive smile on her lips. When you’d been new to SHIELD, you would’ve thought May’s dry tone meant she was making fun of you, but you’d known her long enough to know better. It was her own attempt at making you feel comfortable, and it worked. You beamed at her.

With Coulson and May, you felt brave enough to stay at Stark’s party. Plus, there was no way Coulson would let you bail so quickly, and you were thankful for it. He pushed you to be better, to be stronger than you thought you could be, which was what made him such an excellent mentor. It helped that you’d bonded early on in your SHIELD days over your shared love of Captain America. You’d both grown up idolizing Steve Rogers, and it was more than a little surreal to be attending the man’s birthday party—especially since your boss and fellow fan was the one to invite you.

“Let me introduce you to the man of the hour,” Coulson said eagerly, looking around the room.

A sinking feeling twisted in your stomach and you could feel your smile drop off your face. It didn’t take a genius to guess who Coulson was referring to and you felt yourself freeze up at the prospect of meeting your hero. He was Captain America and you were a level 3 SHIELD agent, you were kidding yourself if you thought he’d care about meeting you. He’d probably forget your name and face immediately after you walked away, that was how much you mattered to a superhero.

But before you could voice your doubts to Coulson—not that he would tolerate you saying you didn’t matter, even to someone like Steve Rogers—his hand was on your back and he was leading you through the crowd. With May walking behind you, there was no way to escape. So you just followed along with your mentor, grateful for his hand guiding you or else you were sure you’d have stumbled as much as a baby deer.

All too soon, you were approaching a group of people including the “man of the hour” himself—Steve Rogers. The Star-Spangled Man was wearing a light blue, almost white shirt with a subtle checked pattered. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows, showing off the golden skin of his forearms, and his hands were buried in the pockets of his dark navy slacks, which he’d paired with brown boots. Steve’s blue eyes were bright and sparkling with humor as he listened to his fellow Avenger, Thor Odinson, tell some story about the Asgardian’s great battles.

Your breath caught in your throat as you watched Captain America run his hand through his blond hair and smile at Thor. Instantly, your girlish teen crush came rushing back to you, making excitement and interest heat your blood. There were nerves, too. But for a moment, as you took in the handsome lines of his face, all you could feel was your heart aching for this man who was too perfect for words. As you neared the group, you worked to keep the hearts out of your eyes, but you feared it was a losing battle.

“Cap!” Coulson called, a little louder than he really needed to, and you could tell he was excited to be talking to his hero even as he tried to rein it in. “I wanted you to meet one of my agents—she’s a big fan.” Your mentor nudged you forward with his hand on your back and you dutifully stepped up to the circle of people.

With one glance around the group, you realized you recognized all of them. In addition to Steve and Thor, there was the party-thrower himself Tony Stark, his girlfriend Pepper Potts, another Avenger Bruce Banner and the high-level SHIELD agent Maria Hill. Swallowing around the sudden lump of nerves in your throat, you gave everyone a tremulous smile and a small wave before turning to Steve.

“Hi Captain—s-sir—I mean, Mr. Rogers…” you said, stumbling over your words. In the last second before speaking, you’d realized you didn’t know what to call the man you’d idolized and crushed on for most of your life. To make matters worse, you felt your face flush brightly with embarrassment.

“Oh god, they’re multiplying,” Tony muttered, rubbing a hand over his face like he was exhausted. Pepper shot him a stern look, which he deliberately ignored as he turned to your mentor. “Coulson,” Tony started in a snarky tone. “Did you try to recruit more Captain America fans to your team or was this just a happy coincidence?”

You felt your blush deepen even more at Tony’s words, and your hands twisted in the fabric of your dress at your sides. You buried your fingers the way you wanted to bury your face to hide from the embarrassment of the moment. You even found yourself wishing for another alien invasion of New York City—where were the Independence Day aliens when you needed them? Ducking your head, you couldn’t bear to look at those witnessing your humiliation, least of all Steve Rogers.

“Just a happy coincidence,” Coulson responded in a seemingly friendly tone, but there was an edge to it that was clearly meant as a warning to Tony. Coulson turned back to Steve. “She’s one of the brightest recruits I’ve seen,” he bragged and you felt your heart pang with gratefulness for your mentor. Even if he’d dragged you to your humiliation, you knew he always had your back. “And not just because she makes for the best teammate at Captain America trivia night,” Coulson joked.

You laughed faintly, still embarrassed over your stumbling first impression, but you appreciated how Coulson was trying to turn the situation around. He was unflappable, and it was a quality you found yourself envying, especially when you still felt so humiliated.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N,” Steve said in a relaxed, friendly tone. When you chanced a glance up at him, his blue eyes caught yours. “And don’t worry about Tony, sweetheart, he’d just prefer you were a fan of his instead,” he commented lightly, grinning at you like you were sharing an inside joke together. When he broke eye contact, he shot his fellow Avenger a reprimanding look.

“Well I did build the Iron Man suit myself literal fucking garbage,” Tony quipped, smoothing down the lapel of his suit jacket that was decidedly unwrinkled.

“Language,” Steve rumbled exasperatedly, though it sounded more like a joke than an actual admonishment.

Tony ignored him and continued talking louder. “While imprisoned by terrorists and slowly dying from a chest wound,” the Avenger said, going on and on about his heroic exploits, while the group listened dutifully.

You rolled your eyes at the man’s boasting, and accidentally caught Steve looking at you again. His blue eyes blazed with interest and something you didn’t recognize. A blush heated your cheeks as the look sent heat searing down your spine and straight to the juncture of your thighs. You squirmed under the weight of Steve’s gaze, pressing your thighs together against the ache that was building in your core. As if he knew the effect he was having on you, Steve’s mouth slowly spread into a wolfish grin.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw May lean in and whisper something in Coulson’s ear. He glanced at you and where your hands were still anxiously twisting in the sides of your skirt. Then he looked back at his wife and nodded.

“Y/N,” he said louder than necessary, cutting into Tony and Thor’s argument over who had more fans and whether Asgardians even counted. “You don’t have a drink!” your mentor exclaimed theatrically and his glance at your hands suddenly made sense. “We need to fixt that.” He turned to the rest of the group, nodding at them and saying, “If you’ll excuse us.”

Before Coulson could usher you away, you gave another small wave to the Avengers and their friends. “It was nice meeting you all,” you said politely, proud of yourself for managing to get the words out. You caught Steve’s eye briefly. “Happy birthday, Cap,” you murmured shyly with a smile before ducking your head and turning to follow Coulson. If Steve responded, you didn’t hear him.

At the bar, Coulson ordered you a drink while at the same time assuring you no one had noticed you stumble over what to call Steve, and even if they had, it wasn’t as embarrassing as you thought it was. Your mentor was putting in a noble effort to make you feel better about the awkward moment. You were still sure you’d completely humiliated yourself in front of Captain America, though you tried not to let on to Coulson that his efforts weren’t totally working.

You’d lost May somewhere in the crowd, but as you accepted your drink from the bartender and took a sip, she appeared at your side with the other members of your SHIELD team. You yelled excitedly at seeing each other and hugs were given all around as you greeted one another. Finally, you felt yourself relax as you fell into the familiar rhythm of being around people you knew and whose company you genuinely enjoyed.

The evening went on, the sun set on the Manhattan skyline and you started having fun. You stuck close to your SHIELD friends, nursing on your drink since you knew adding too much alcohol to your anxiousness would be a recipe for disaster. Occasionally, your eyes wandered the crowd, searching out a certain super soldier until your gaze found him. Once or twice, you caught Steve as he was turning, as if you’d almost caught him looking at you. But you told yourself that was silly. What would Captain America want with a level 3 SHIELD agent he’d literally just met?

A little before nine, speakers built into the walls of the multilevel party space crackled to life and Tony’s voice boomed around the room. He invited everyone down to the Avengers Tower deck for a special fireworks presentation in honor of “America’s independence from the British Empire and Steve’s mom’s independence from carrying him around.” The crowd giggled as they made their way through the open doors on the lower level of the party space to the deck. You’d been standing by the bar on the upper level with your friends, but told them to go ahead without you while you went to the bathroom.

After dawdling in the bathroom as long as you could, you returned to the party room. The upper level was entirely empty—even the bartenders had abandoned their posts to check out the show from just inside the doors to the deck. Instead of following the last stragglers downstairs, though, you walked slowly along one of the side walkways. It was a wide hallway, with little seating areas set up along the outer wall of glass that overlooked Manhattan. The inside glass wall was split up by wide crisscrossing beams of steal.

As you strolled along, you weren’t paying much attention to your surroundings, too busy preparing an excuse for your friends as to why you’d be avoiding the fireworks show. You didn’t want to tell your fellow SHIELD agents you were scared of fireworks, but you weren’t sure they’d buy any of your lies. You already knew you couldn’t hide anything from Coulson.

Suddenly, a man stood from one of the brown leather armchairs along the wall, startling you a little. You let out a quiet shriek, but broke off on a gasp when you recognized the blond hair and broad shoulders of Captain America.

“Cap!” you exclaimed, whirling to face him fast enough that your dress flared out. You caught his blue eyes dip to get a glimpse of your thighs, and you pressed them together nervously. But then his gaze was on your face and your breathing stuttered at being caught alone by the man you’d crushed on for years.

“Whoa there, sweetheart,” Steve said gently. He held his hands up with his palms facing you as if to assure you he wasn’t a threat. You were closer than you’d been earlier and you couldn’t help but notice just how handsome he was. Strong jawline, bright blue eyes and a mouth with lips so soft, the craving to feel them on yours was a physical thing. Even the way he called you sweetheart, with his deliciously deep voice, sent heat pooling in your core.

But despite your lust for him and the fact that he was trying to make you feel safe, you couldn’t help the nerves and anxiousness that flooded through you. It wasn’t that you were scared of Steve, just scared of humiliating yourself in front of him—again. You had the wild urge to run, to get out of the deserted hallway and as far away from your hero as possible. But running away would be just as humiliating.

Glancing around, you realized you and Steve were hidden from view of everyone on the deck and even those who’d stayed inside on the lower level. You’d only be seen if someone turned into the hallway. Letting out a little sigh of relief, you told yourself at least no one else would see if you humiliated yourself again.

“What’re you doing inside?” you asked, trying to be friendly as nerves and desire battled inside you—and you weren’t sure which was going to win. You tried to hide how your chest was rising and falling faster than normal, hoping he wouldn’t notice. At the same time, you crossed one ankle in front of the other to disguise how you were pressing your thighs together against the ache that was building from just being near Steve. “Don’t you like fireworks?” Internally, you cringed at your silly questions, but kept your face clear, a smile on your lips.

The side of Steve’s mouth hooked up in a charming grin. “I could ask you the same thing, Y/N,” he said lightly, stepping closer.

You backed up, trying to keep a respectable amount of space in between you and the Star-Spangled Man, but found your back pressing against one of the steel beams, the metal cool on your shoulders. When the mischievous sparkle in Steve’s eye dimmed at your movement, you cursed yourself for reacting like a scared little bunny. Your tongue darted out, wetting your lower lip as your chest rose and fell, your heart beating wildly. Steve’s gaze raked over you and he must’ve realized there was more desire in your body language than fear because the corner of his mouth curved up in a smile.

“You’ve been with your SHIELD team all night,” he continued lowly, edging into your personal space. “Why are you wandering around all alone now, sweetheart?” He reached up and brushed some of your hair over your shoulder, his fingertips trailing along your skin and making goosebumps rise in their wake. “Don’t you want to see the show?”

You tried—you really tried—to hold back a shiver, but your shoulders shook with a slight tremor at Steve’s touch and you closed your eyes against the onslaught of heat that blazed just beneath your skin. When you opened your eyes again, Steve’s ocean eyes were hooded. His gaze was fixated on your lips, which you realized you’d bitten to hold back a soft moan. Embarrassment heated your cheeks and the conflicting emotions must’ve acted as a truth serum. “Fireworks scare me,” you whispered, admitting your silly fear to the man you idolized, who you’d only met that night.

Steve’s expression morphed, something sweet like a mixture of affection and concern taking over his handsome features. He reached up and cupped your jaw in one of his large hands, swiping his thumb tenderly over your cheek as you leaned into his touch. But then Steve’s face turned devilish, a slow, wicked grin overtaking his mouth as his blue eyes darkened like the depths of the Atlantic Ocean.

“I have an idea of how to distract you, sweetheart,” Steve said, keeping his voice low and his eyes hooked on yours. You couldn’t look away even if you’d wanted to—and, despite the quickly fading fear of humiliating yourself in front of your hero, you did not want to look away. “But you have to be a good girl for me, can you do that?”

Your mind went fuzzy around the edges at Steve’s words and before you’d really considered the situation, particularly that you had no idea what you were agreeing to do with a man you’d literally just met, your head was bobbing in an eager nod. “Yes,” you answered, the word coming out like a gasp. “I can be good.” Even though your words were a statement, it felt like you were begging, pleading with Steve to believe you.

The thumb rubbing gently over your cheek paused and Steve tilted his head to the side, giving you a considering look. “It’s not just that you can be good, you want to be good, don’t you sweetheart?” Steve asked slowly as if he was choosing his words carefully.

Biting your lip, your brow creased as you gave the question some real thought. It didn’t take long for you to realize Steve was right. You’d been a people pleaser most of your life because you liked the feeling of making people happy. Apparently, that extended to situations like the one you’d found yourself in with Captain America. You really did want to be good for him, you wanted to please him—you were desperate to please him.

Meeting his gaze again, you nodded. “Yes,” you answered steadily, so there was no room for him to misunderstand. “I want to be good—for you.” You stared into his blue eyes, nervous about admitting something so intimate, but Steve made you want to be honest, both with him and yourself.

Steve hummed in acknowledgment and tilted his head to the other side, still giving you that considering look. “So if I told you to get down on your knees for me and open your mouth like a good girl, you’d do it?” he asked slowly, carefully.

Again, the edges of your thoughts went fuzzy at Steve’s words. Your brain was at least a little bit impaired by the drinks you’d had, but Steve Rogers—Captain America himself—talking dirty was having a much stronger effect on you. It was more akin to five tequila shots, which far outpaced the two drinks you’d had since arriving at the party.

And again, before you fully considered Steve’s words, your desire to do exactly what he suggested had you nodding. “Yes,” you said, your voice breathy as your chest rose and fell rapidly.

“You’d open those pretty lips wide so I can fuck your mouth right here in this hallway where anyone can find us?” Steve went on, his eyes raking over your face and watching how his words affected you. At his use of ‘fuck’, you pulled in a sharp gasp, making him grin. “You like it when I talk dirty, don’t you sweetheart? Makes your brain turn off and turns you into my own little fucktoy, doesn’t it?”

Dazedly, you nodded again and repeated in your breathless voice, “Yes.” It was distractingly sinful hearing Captain America swear so much, say such dirty things, and it was having the exact effect he said it was. Making you focus so much on what he was saying that you didn’t even care about the possibility of being caught. Besides, you wanted to do what he said. The idea of getting down on your knees for him made you wet your lips with anticipation. The movement caught Steve’s eye and he grinned devilishly.

Just then, a sharp boom sounded from outside, followed by the sparkling lights of fireworks. But it was so loud it sounded like it had gone off right next to the building and you flinched. Your face jerked against Steve’s palm where he still held you.

“Shhh,” he soothed you, swiping his thumb over your cheek one last time before sliding his hand to the back of your head. Gently but firmly, Steve guided you down to your knees, your bare skin connecting with the cool tile floor. With his other hand, he was already undoing the button and fly of his slacks. And then Captain America was pulling his cock out right in front of your face, so close the tip almost bumped your nose. “We gotta be quick, sweetheart, the show’s only 25 minutes.”

You barely heard him—or the steady booms of fireworks—as everything else fell away and your gaze fixed on Steve Rogers’ cock. He was long and thick and perfect, with pulsing veins running down the hardened length that you wanted to trace with your tongue. But then his words penetrated your mind and you remembered what he’d told you he wanted you to do. You opened your mouth as wide as you could, sticking your tongue out and tilting your head back so you could look up at the man standing over you.

Steve gripped his cock and stared down at you, his deep blue ocean eyes swirling with hunger and desire and a little bit of wonder. He grinned as his gaze raked over you, kneeling on the floor for him, ready for him to use you like his own personal toy. “Hands behind your back, sweetheart,” Steve murmured, his free hand skimming along your jaw reverently as he stared down at you like he couldn’t look away.

Quickly, you did as he asked, clasping your hands around the opposite wrists and holding them against your lower back. The movement forced your chest to stick out, putting your tits on display for Steve. From his vantage towering over you, he could see right down your dress. The realization made you blush and the pink tinting your cheeks caught Steve’s gaze. His blue eyes hooded as he looked at you appreciatively.

“Such a pretty picture,” he cooed, stroking your cheek with gentle fingertips. “Such a good girl.”

His praise shot straight to your heart, making it soar with happiness. Even with your mouth wide open, the corners turned up in a smile and you knew your eyes were sparkling with joy. He’d barely even touched you and Steve was making you feel like something precious—and he was looking at you like he owned you.

If you could’ve thought past the look of possessiveness in Steve’s eyes, you would’ve been worried about someone catching you. You would’ve been worried about the likelihood of the fireworks giving you a panic attack, as they’d done since you were a child. You’d maybe even have been worried about the harsh tile bruising your knees. But in the moment, you couldn’t think about any of those worries. You weren’t thinking at all, and it was liberating. All you could do was be good—do as Steve told you and let him use you like a fucktoy. Maybe it was contradictory, but giving yourself over to Steve and letting him tell you what to do made you feel amazing, it made you feel free.

As the next series of booming fireworks went off, you were able to ignore them and sit perfectly still while Steve pushed his cock into your mouth. He pressed the tip past your lips and groaned, closing his eyes for a moment as he slowly drove deeper inside.

“Your mouth is so fucking perfect, sweetheart,” he hissed, pressing inch after inch into your hole until he hit the back of your throat. “So warm around my cock,” he grunted when he hit the resistance of your throat and stopped. His fingers threaded through your hair, holding you tenderly. “That’s it, wrap your lips around my cock and suck.” His blue eyes blazed bright in the dim hallway as he pulled out and pressed back in, watching you take him.

You did as Steve said, running your tongue over the underside of his cock while he thrust in and out of your mouth shallowly, sucking along his length. He was hot and heavy on your tongue, tasking salty and musky and so good your eyes closed with pleasure.

“Such a good girl,” Steve ground out through clenched teeth as he fucked your mouth. “Relax your throat, sweetheart, let me fuck you deeper,” he commanded a moment before you felt the tip of his dick hit the back of your throat again, this time more insistently.

As best you could, you followed Steve’s order and relaxed your throat. Your mouth was filling with saliva and it made the slide easier when Steve pressed his cock into your throat. You fought your gag reflex and focused on keeping yourself relaxed for him. Before you knew it, your nose pressed to Steve’s body and you realized he was buried completely inside your mouth and throat. The thought filled you with pride and you were sure the feeling shined in your eyes as you stared up at Steve.

“Fuck,” he hissed, locking eyes with you while his hands cradled your head and held you down on his cock. “Fuck you’re perfect, a perfect little toy being so good while I use your hole,” Steve rumbled, his ocean eyes wild with swirling emotions, so many you couldn’t identify them all but you thought you saw pride and awe and a deep, possessive hunger.

Tears flooded your vision as your throat protested the intrusion of Steve’s cock, but before you could gag, he pulled you off his length. Drool dripped from your lips and down your chin to your heaving chest as you gasped for air. Suddenly, without Steve’s cock taking all your focus, you realized how aroused you were. You were so wet you’d soaked through your panties and were probably dripping a puddle onto the tile floor.

Before the thought could make you flush in embarrassment, Steve bent down and cupped your face in his hand. The other gripped your hair tight enough to sting a little, but the sensation went straight to your aching pussy, which pulsed in response to the pain. You squirmed in Steve’s hold and he watched the movement with sharp eyes. That wicked grin of his was back, spreading across his face. “You like it rough, don’t you sweetheart?” he asked in a sweet tone, patting your cheek gently.

It was on the tip of your tongue to protest, an automatic reaction to a question that felt more than a little degrading. But your dripping arousal was proof that you very much did like Steve’s rough treatment and the need to be honest with him forced you to answer truthfully. “Yes,” you whispered as you nodded slowly, as much as you could in his grip.

Steve gave you that considering look again and your core clenched as you realized he was likely about to suggest something else that would make you even wetter.

“What if I slapped you?” Steve voiced the question as if it were a totally normal thing to ask. But then, you were on your knees in the hallway of his birthday party at Avengers Tower where anyone—including your coworkers and his—could walk in and see just how you’d let him degrade you. “Will my sweet little fucktoy like it if I slap her pretty face?”

Your mind short-circuited, the fuzziness around the edges you’d felt at his continuous filthy language consumed your brain almost completely. A whimper escaped your mouth and Steve rubbed your cheek soothingly. You tried to force out an answer but only unintelligible sounds came out.

“Use your words, sweetheart,” Steve commanded gently, his blue gaze intent on you.

“Please!” you said on a gasp. Steve stilled and stared at you carefully, like he wasn’t sure how to interpret your plea. He raised is eyebrows in question. “Yes!” you exclaimed, nodding eagerly and tilting your face to present your cheek to him so there wasn’t any doubt.

Surprise and wonder flitted across Steve’s face before it was replaced by excitement and hunger. He grinned devilishly and rubbed your cheek fondly. “Such a perfect, willing little fucktoy,” he cooed before pulling his hand back and slapping you sharply across the cheek with his palm.

It stung, but not enough to bring tears to your eyes—just enough to send sparks shooting down to your core. A rough moan tumbled from your lips as you panted and met Steve’s gaze.

His grin widened and his blue eyes darkened with need. “Oh sweetheart,” Steve murmured, then pressed a kiss to the cheek he’d just slapped. “You’re better than any birthday gift I could’ve asked for,” he said right next to your ear, his breath teasing your skin and the fierceness of his tone making you shiver.

So distracted by his words, you barely felt your hero drag his mouth across the sensitive skin of your reddened cheek. When Steve slanted his lips to yours, you gasped in surprise and the super soldier swallowed the sound down. Steve wasted no time in pushing past your parted lips, sweeping his tongue into your mouth and taking possession. Your lips were messy with drool and you were sure you tasted of his precum, but he didn’t care. Steve kissed you deeply, furiously, stealing your breath away.

When he’d kissed you thoroughly, Steve pulled back and stood up. With one hand, he tilted your head back and used the other to drag the tip of his dick along your bottom lip, smearing the drool that had dripped down your chin. “Open up, sweetheart,” he commanded in a low voice, his blue eyes wild as he watched you follow his order. Quicker than before, he pressed his cock deep into your mouth; you wrapped your lips around him, sucking his length.

When he hit the back of your mouth, Steve stopped and held himself there while you breathed around him. He petted your cheeks with his hands and looked down at you affectionately. “If I get too rough, pat my thigh,” he ordered, tapping his leg and showing you what he meant. You let go of your wrists and patted his thigh to let him know you understood, then went back to holding your hands behind your back. “Good girl,” he praised and you smiled around his cock.

Without warning, Steve pulled out and slapped your cheek, the surprise and sting sending thrills through your bloodstream and making your pussy clench pathetically. You whimpered, but Steve shoved his cock back into your mouth, muffling the sound. Your tongue lapped desperately against his length, drawing a moan from him. He felt so good filling your mouth and it felt doubly good to make him feel good.

“That’s my good little toy,” Steve murmured fondly, threading his fingers in your hair on either said of your head. “Gonna use your perfect fuckhole and come down your throat.” He bent down, looking you in the eye as he ordered, “And you’re gonna swallow every drop.”

All you could do was moan in response to his filthy language, your eyes closing slightly as you reveled in the way he was using you. The vibrations from your moan made Steve grunt as he pulled his cock out and thrust back into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat.

Steve set a brutal rhythm, fucking deep into your mouth but never pressing hard enough to make you gag. His body curled over your head while he used his grip in your hair to pull you on and off his dick. Even though he didn’t push you to take him deeper, he was relentless as he fucked your mouth. You breathed through your nose and gave up trying not to make a mess. Drool overflowed your lips, dripping down your chin and into the valley between your breasts.

Over Steve’s grunting and groaning and the wet sounds of his cock drilling into your mouth, you could hear the fireworks starting to go off in quick succession and realized the show was coming to an end. You gripped your wrists tighter behind your back and slid your tongue desperately over the veins along Steve’s dick as he fucked your mouth.

“That’s it,” he grunted, picking up speed as he must’ve noticed the same thing about the fireworks show. “Suck my cock, sweetheart, make me come in that pretty little mouth of yours,” he ordered, his voice both gruff and tender at the same time.

You sucked as hard as you could, hollowing out your cheeks around his cock. On his next thrust, you pushed against Steve’s firm hold to take him deeper. With your throat already relaxed, he slid all the way in.

“Fuck!” Steve shouted as he buried his cock to the hilt in your mouth. You sucked on the base, your tongue pushing past your lips to lick at his balls. A second later, you felt Steve come apart in your mouth. His length pulsed inside you and then his come was pumping down your throat. Obediently, you swallowed it down, the muscles in your throat contracting around his hardness. You felt rather than saw Steve lean over you.

When you’d swallowed the last of his come, Steve’s hand in your hair helped ease you gently off his cock. You sat back on your heels and looked up to see Steve with his hand planted against the steel beam behind you. His chest was heaving and his mouth was slack, but his blue eyes were bright as he stared down at you with wonderment in his gaze.

Reverently, Steve swiped his thumb through the drool that was coating your chin, then he pushed his finger between your lips. You sucked on him sweetly, the edges of your mouth curling up in a wicked smile of your own. You swirled your tongue around the tip of his thumb and Steve’s ocean eyes darkened. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Steve’s cock start to harden—you guessed it was an effect of the super soldier soldier serum, a faster recovery time.

It took a moment for the utter silence that had fallen in the hallway to penetrate your lust-soaked mind. The fireworks show was over. Your eyes met Steve’s and you were sure the panic you felt was written all over your face. With quick movements, Steve tucked his cock away and righted himself before bending down and helping you to your feet. You wobbled on your heels and shaky knees, but Steve wrapped his arm around your waist and kept you steady. He started walking briskly down the hallway, holding you so securely against his side, your feet barely touched the ground.

Between the steel beams, you caught glimpses of partygoers filtering back into the downstairs level of the party area, but they were all chattering excitedly about the fireworks. Still, you turned away just in case and tried to wipe the drool from your chin. However, there wasn’t anything you could do about your makeup—or your cheek. It didn’t hurt but you weren’t sure if it was still red or not.

Steve didn’t pay the crowd any mind, keeping his gaze forward as he strode down the hallway and walked straight past the bar to the bank of elevators beyond it where he pressed the button. Thankfully, no one had made it to the upper level yet, even the bartenders, so you didn’t have to worry about being seen, but you turned your face into his shoulder anyway, hiding the evidence of what you’d done while everyone else had been outside enjoying the fireworks.

“Where are we going?” you asked quietly, your voice a little hoarse from Steve’s rough treatment of your throat. The slight pain of it made you feel giddy and you bit your lip against a smile.

“My room,” he answered shortly, glancing around the area near the elevators to make sure no one else was around before pulling you into an empty car. As soon as the doors closed, Steve swung you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style.

All your questions about why he was taking you to his room flew out of your head as it struck you that Captain America, the hero you’d looked up to all your life and crushed on for at least half of it, was holding you in his arms—just moments after brutally fucking your mouth. It was a surreal realization and you didn’t know what to do about it. So you just let yourself be carried by Captain America as he exited the elevator and brought you to his room, using a keycard he fished from his pocket to open the door.

Once inside, he set you down on the edge of the bed, kneeling on the plush carpet and looking up into your eyes. The reversal of your positions was not lost on you. When Steve’s fingers grazed the back of your ankle as he pulled your shoe off, you let out a quiet gasp. Steve’s eyes darkened again, but he shook his head as if to clear it of whatever dirty thoughts he’d been having.

“You have two options,” Steve started, pulling off your other shoe and placing it neatly next to the first one at the foot of his bed. “You can get cleaned up here and go back to the party,” he said, inclining his head toward an open doorway to his right.

When you looked at the darkened room, you could see enough to tell it was a bathroom. Like the bedroom he’d brought you to, there didn’t seem to be much in the way of personal effects, but you wondered if Steve kept them out of sight. Squashing your desire to poke around Steve Rogers’ living space, you looked back to him and waited expectantly for the second option.

Steve grinned, his big hands skimming up your calves soothingly and teasing over your knees. “Or you can wait here while I go tell Coulson you went home and make my excuses to Tony and the others,” he said, his hands sliding higher, fingers teasing the edge of your dress. “So I can come back here and reward you for being such a good girl for me.”

A shiver raced down your spine at the promise in his words. Without hesitation, you beamed and gave your answer. “Definitely the second option.”

Steve’s grin widened in response. With swift movements, he planted his hands on either side of your hips, rising up from his knees to drop a kiss on your lips. You cupped his face in your hands and held him to you as he kissed you sweetly, his joy over your answer in every sweep of his tongue and nip of his teeth. Pulling away, he pressed his forehead to yours as you caught your breath.

“Before I go, will my pretty girl give me a peak at my birthday gift?” he murmured, his hand sliding up your thigh and pushing up your dress along with it.

“No peaking,” you chided jokingly, but your voice was too breathy to be stern. Contradicting your words, your hips rose up off the bed, as if offering yourself up for him.

Laughing lightly, Steve pushed your thighs open slightly and trailed the hem of your dress up enough that he could see where your panties covered your dripping slit. Glancing down, you could see there was an embarrassingly large wet spot, and you could smell your arousal. While you flushed with shyness, Steve groaned loudly.

“You’re so wet, sweetheart,” he muttered, fingers trailing over the edge of your panties, teasingly close to where you wanted him to touch you. “Is this all for me?” he asked in a fake innocent voice, his blue eyes capturing your gaze. He looked hungry—and only you would satisfy his craving.

As your breath hitched in your throat at the look in his eyes, you nodded. “Yes, Steve,” you murmured, eyes wide as your fingers clung to his shoulders.

The corner of his mouth kicked up in a small smile. “What, not calling me Mr. Rogers anymore—or Cap?” he teased lightly, making you blush deeper at the joke. You shook your head, half in answer to his question and half in exasperation at yourself. “It was cute,” he assured you in a rumbly voice before pressing a quick kiss to your lips and standing up.

A whine sounded in your throat before you could hold it back as your hands fell from his shoulders to land in your lap. You pouted up at him exaggeratedly, making a joke of your ridiculous reaction, but Steve just looked down at you fondly.

“I’ll be back soon,” he promised, running his thumb along your jaw affectionately. He nodded to the bathroom and the bedroom. “Make yourself comfortable.” And then he was backing away and slipping out the door to go back to the party.

You looked around from your seat on the bed. The room was sparse, as you’d originally noticed, but did have some classic touches that fit a man from the early 20th century. He had some prints of the old Brooklyn Dodgers baseball team hanging on the wall and the furniture looked antique. But there were some updates as well, with a modern-looking navy blue bedspread covering his mattress and technology visible around the room—a TV mounted on the wall and a laptop on his desk.

You wanted to get up and look around more, but you didn’t trust yourself. You knew if you did, you’d end up doing some hardcore snooping and you wanted to respect the man’s space, especially since you already knew so much about him from being a fan. Even though you’d had Steve’s cock in your mouth, looking around his bedroom felt like crossing a line. Mainly because you were pretty sure you liked him a lot more than he liked you.

After all, he was Captain America and you were a level 3 SHIELD agent. Even though you ran in somewhat similar circles—you had been invited to his birthday party, even if it wasn’t by him—you were still basically a nobody compared to Steve Rogers. He may not have forgotten your name and face immediately after meeting you like you’d predicted, but that didn’t change the fact that he was an Avenger and you were a nobody who had a silly crush on him.

No matter how many times he’d called you perfect, you couldn’t convince yourself you were special enough to hold the interest of Captain America. It was too easy to write off what he’d said as dirty talk, something said in the heat of the moment that didn’t mean anything. There was no way Steve had any real interest in you beyond having some fun for the night of his birthday. It was too ludicrous for you to believe it could be anything more than that, that he could want anything more than that from you. And the worst part was that you could very easily see yourself falling in love with the man behind the shield.

As you waited in Steve’s room for him to return, you couldn’t stop thinking about the differences between you and him. You convinced yourself Steve could only want a one night stand and you’d happily take him up on the offer, even if you knew it would hurt when you had to leave his room. You told yourself you wouldn’t fall asleep, you’d leave before he could kick you out. It was the only way to keep your dignity in tact, you couldn’t let him see how much you liked him. That would be far more humiliating than any of your stumbling interactions with him.

Steve didn’t make you wait long—though it was long enough for you build up some walls around your heart and prepare yourself for what would come after the sex. Less than half an hour since he left, Steve strode back into the room, a grin on his face and purpose in his ocean eyes. But when he caught sight of your expression, he faltered, pausing just inside the door.

You’d tried to hide your thoughts. You’d tried to paste a happy, eager smile on your face. You’d tried to be excited for what Steve had planned for you, but all your doubts about what would happen after had soured your mood. You’d been hoping to hide it from him, but apparently he could read you even better than Coulson.

Steve wiped a hand over his face and sat beside you, keeping enough space between your bodies that you weren’t touching. “You changed your mind,” he said evenly, no judgement in his tone, but none of the earlier charm or friendliness either.

“No I didn’t,” you argued. He looked at you doubtfully. “I didn’t!”

Steve narrowed his eyes as he looked at you closely. “Something’s different,” he said, as if it was a fact not to be argued. “When I left, you were…” he trailed off for a moment, his blue eyes tracing every inch of your face like he could read your secrets in the lines. “More willing—no, that’s not it,” he said, shaking his head. He let out a frustrated sound. “You were more…open.” His blue eyes lit with triumph at figuring it out but then his face fell.

You kept your face blank, trying not to respond to the sadness and hurt in Steve’s expression. It was unnerving how he was able to detect the walls you’d built around your heart in the short time he was gone. You’d only just met him and he already knew you too well. “I’m fine,” you said firmly, trying to keep your walls up even though a large part of you begged to tear them down and let him in. Only the threat of how much Steve could crush your heart maintained your resolve.

Steve let out an exasperated sigh. “I know I did most of my dating in the 30s and 40s,” he started, shooting you a disappointed look. “But I know that if a woman says she’s fine, she’s not fine.”

Anger rose in your chest. You wanted to snap at him and tell him you knew how you were feeling better than he did, but it would just prove him right. Besides, you weren’t fine. Everything in the hallway had been fun, you’d let yourself get carried away with Steve. But now you were scared and worried about what happened after he was done with you—and if there was one thing you were sure of, it was that he’d be done with you before you were done with him.

Instead of admitting anything, though, you tried a different tact. “What happened to unwrapping me like a present?” you teased, trying to be coy, and slowly dragging the hem of your dress up your legs. Steve clamped his fingers around your wrist, stopping you before you could reveal much.

“What is this, Y/N?” Steve demanded, frustration in his voice. He used his firm grip on your wrist to pull your dress back down. “Did Tony put you up to this and you’re having second thoughts?”

Stunned silence fell in the room. “What?” you demanded, wrenching your wrist from Steve’s hand and scooting even further away from him, putting more space between you. Still, you turned toward Steve, gripping the edge of the bed tightly in your hands.

“You’re too perfect to be real—you’re everything I could want,” Steve accused. “What am I supposed to think?” Steve let out a harsh breath, raking his hands through his blond hair until it was in disarray. “Tony has a strange sense of humor,” he continued in a hollow voice. “I wouldn’t put it past him to send you to me as some screwed up birthday gift, telling you to give me everything I want.” He closed his eyes like he couldn’t bear to look at you, even out of his peripheral vision. “Whatever he told you, you don’t need to do anything you don’t want,” he said in a soft, sad voice.

“I have a crush on you, you idiot!” you cried, the words falling from your mouth before you could think better of them. “I’ve had a crush on you since I first learned what it was to even have a crush.”

Steve’s eyes had popped open and he was staring at you like he wasn’t sure if he believed you. “Oh,” he said. Then his gazed sharpened as he stared at your face, looking for the lie, but there wasn’t one to find. “Oh.”

Since you’d already admitted to your feelings, you decided you might as well tell him the rest. “If this is just going to be a one-night thing, tell me now,” you said on a defeated sigh, your shoulders slumping. It was your turn to look away, unable to hold his gaze as you said the next part. “I’d rather know what I’m getting into so I don’t get my hopes up that you might want more.”

Before you finished getting the words out, Steve closed the distance between you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and using his other hand to scoop your legs up and drape them across his legs. With a gentle touch under your chin, he tilted your face to look at him. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m a bit old-fashioned,” he said softly, a little  teasing grin on his lips that made you smile. “I’m not really a one-night-thing kind of guy.”

“Coulda fooled me,” you mumbled, even as your heart raced with the hope of what he meant. “What with all that dirty talk and shoving your cock down my throat.” You gave him a droll look.

“Internet,” he said blandly. “So helpful.”

That made you blush and it was your turn to say, “Oh.”

“Besides, I figured out you had a crush on me when Coulson introduced you as a big fan,” Steve went on, mimicking your mentor’s tone of voice on the last two words. “I was waiting for you in that hallway,” he admitted, ducking his head a little. “And the mouth fucking wasn’t actually what I’d originally envisioned to take your mind off the fireworks—I was gonna offer to show you around some of the restricted sections of the Tower.” He looked at you a little sheepishly.

You stared up at Steve with wide eyes as you replayed the start of your interaction in the hallway. “Oh.”

“Well, I may have been testing you with the good girl stuff,” he confessed with a little grin, cutting his eyes to you with an unrepentant look. “And the way you reacted…I got carried away.”

“I liked it,” you supplied quickly, not wanting him to have any doubt about that. “I would’ve liked a tour, but the mouth fucking was…” you trailed off, unsure what word could convey exactly how hot and sinfully fun it had been.

Steve’s fingers trailed up the inside of your thigh, caressing dangerously close to your still soaked panties. He was wearing that wicked grin of his. “Oh, I know,” he muttered in a deep tone. “I saw how wet you were for me, remember?”

You whined a little at his touch and his words, shifting your hips and letting your thighs fall open for Steve’s hand. He traced his fingers along the edge of your panties over your hip and you looked up at him with pleading eyes.

“There you are,” Steve murmured with reverence in his tone. He dragged his thumb up the center of your panties right over your slit, teasing your lower lips and collecting your wetness. Then he brought his thumb up to your mouth, sweeping it across your lower lip before pushing it inside. “There’s my willing little fucktoy.” He said the degrading pet name so fondly, your heart soared.

You swirled your tongue around his thumb, tasting yourself on his skin and hummed in pleasure. Gently, you sucked and bobbed a little on his thumb, recreating the moment in the hallway, your eyes never straying from his.

“If you’re giving yourself to me as a birthday gift, sweetheart,” Steve said lowly, his blue eyes darkening as he watched you bob on his thumb. “I want all of you, am I clear?” he demanded, his voice almost a growl with the fierceness of his words.

You nodded sweetly, the corners of your mouth turning up in a smile. Pulling off his thumb with one last drag of your tongue over the pad of his finger, making him groan quietly, you fully grinned at Steve. “Happy birthday, Cap,” you whispered in a honeyed tone, kissing him lightly before swinging your lips off his and standing in front of him. “Now, I think it’s time you unwrap your present,” you said cheekily, gripping the skirt of your dress and slowly teasing it up your thighs.

“Hey, that’s mine,” Steve grumbled playfully, batting your hands away from your dress and standing up, gathering you to his chest. He kissed you fiercely and you opened for him, the last of your doubts melting away.

You pressed closer, feeling Steve’s bulge through his slacks. You squeeze your thighs together against the ache that had been near-constant since he’d asked you to get down on your knees for him. A little whine escaped your lips and Steve drank the sound down, smiling against your mouth.

Slowly, he pushed the straps of your sundress off your shoulders, kissing down your neck and making you shiver as he bit and sucked at your skin, leaving little marks in his wake. He trailed kisses along your collarbones, then over the swells of your breasts. He hooked a finger in the center of your dress’s sweetheart neckline, still slightly damp from your drool, and tugged it down achingly slowly until the edge dragged roughly over your nipples.

Tossing your head back, you moaned wantonly. Your hands were braced against Steve’s shoulders, gripping the hard muscle through his soft button down shirt. You wanted to peel it off him and feel the warm skin teasing your fingertips through the fabric. But when your fingers tried to start undoing the buttons, they fumbled too much.

Completely oblivious to your attempts to get his shirt off, Steve groaned loudly as he pulled the bodice of your dress down to your waist, exposing your breasts to his gaze. He cupped them in his big hands, his mouth descending on the soft flesh. He was rough with you, biting and licking at your nipples hard enough to make you cry out.

You ran your hands through his blond hair and held his head to your chest. Every time he tugged on your nipples with his teeth, it sent a shot of sparks straight to your clit and you moaned unabashedly at his rough treatment. In no time, you’d soaked through your panties so much you could feel your arousal making a mess on your thighs. Squirming in Steve’s arms, you whined loudly.

Turning his face up to look at you, his chin resting against your sternum, Steve grinned at the look of frustration on your face. “Need my cock, sweetheart?” he asked in a teasing tone. Words escaped you, so you whined and nodded your head eagerly. Steve tutted. “Don’t forget to use your words, pretty girl,” he chided you lightly.

With one last rough bite to your nipple, he stood up, cupping your face in his hands and pressing his forehead to yours. “But you’re right,” he said, as if you’d said more than unintelligible sounds. “My sweet little toy has been patient enough.” He pushed your dress over your hips, letting it pool on the floor. “So good for me, she’s earned a hard fucking,” he cooed.

Then he was slipping his fingers under the waistband of your panties and peeling them down your hips and thighs. The wet fabric clung to your damp skin and you flushed in embarrassment, but Steve just stared at your pussy as it was slowly revealed to him like he couldn’t get enough of the sight.

“So wet for me,” he praised in a reverent tone. “Gonna feel so good dripping on my cock,” he said almost to himself. Steve pulled your panties away from your wet slit and let them fall to the floor next to your dress.

Then you were naked in front of him, Steve Rogers—Captain America. Nervousness crashed over you and it took all of your self-control not to try to cover yourself. Steve didn’t seem to notice your reaction, though, as he was too busy drinking in the sight of your body completely bare in front of him. He looked at you with such obvious desire and wonder, you started to feel beautiful. You felt like the pretty, precious gift he kept saying you were.

“So gorgeous, so perfect,” he mumbled, the praise falling easily from his lips as he looked at you. He dragged his gaze back up your body and locked eyes with you. “The prettiest present,” he said, a slightly stunned smile on his face. He drew you in for a kiss, his lips devouring you slowly. Your naked body pressed against his fully clothed one and you shivered, the contrast driving you wild.

When Steve broke the kiss, he grinned devilishly. “Ready, sweetheart?” he asked.

You nodded, managing a breathy little, “Yes,” before he kissed you once more, like he couldn’t stop himself. Then he was spinning you to the bed and pushing you down onto the mattress. He helped you slide up toward the pillows, then flipped you onto your stomach, pulling your hips up.

With calloused hands, Steve manipulated your body into the position he wanted—your face and shoulders pressed down against his navy blue blanket, your knees planted in the mattress and your ass in the air, presenting yourself for him. He moved your knees wider, opening you up even more and it made you impossibly wetter—so wet you could feel it dripping down your thighs. Steve had barely touched you and you were already panting for him.

When he was done, Steve ran his hands up your thighs, over your ass and down your back to your shoulders in long soothing strokes. “Doing so well for me, pretty girl,” he murmured in praise. “You look fucking perfect spread out for me like this.”

“Steve,” you said in between gasping breaths. “Please!”

“Good girl,” Steve rumbled in a low voice, and you heard the rustling of clothing, then the distinct sound of his fly being undone. “Using your words.” He knelt on the bed behind you and a second later you felt the hot, hard length of him settle into the curve of your ass.

You moaned at the feel of him so close to your dripping pussy and Steve rewarded you by dragging the head of his cock up and down your wet slit.

“You’re gonna let me fuck you bare, right sweetheart?” Steve asked, teasing your opening with his tip, bullying your clit and coating himself with your wetness. “My fucktoy wants it rough and raw, don’t you?”

Like earlier in the night, your mind went fuzzy at Steve’s filthy words and it was difficult to process what he’d asked. When it took you longer than a moment to reply, Steve paused his teasing to let you think. “Yes,” you said on a gasp, finally finding the word in your hazy mind. “Please, Steve!” you begged, squirming your hips and rubbing your pussy against his dick.

“That’s my girl,” Steve muttered. “Ready for my cock, sweetheart?” he asked, notching the tip at your entrance. When you just groaned and tried to press back onto his length, he slapped your ass. The sound was loud and sharp in the room, making you gasp more than the actual sting of the smack. “Words,” he commanded.

“Fuck, Steve, please,” you mumbled, your face turned to the side and still pressed into the blankets. “I need your cock, please!”

“That’s it,” Steve hissed, pressing the thick head of his cock into your slick channel and you both moaned at the feel of your tightness grasping at him. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him grinning wickedly, his blue eyes bright and focused on where his dick was slowly disappearing inside you.

“Love hearing you beg like the slutty little fucktoy you are,” he growled, pushing another inch of his cock into your pussy and forcing you to stretch around the intrusion. “Gonna fuck you stupid, sweetheart,” Steve promised, his voice rough as gravel with the strain of entering you slowly. “Fuck you so hard I turn you into a babbling mess, too drunk on cock to speak. Does that sound nice?” he asked, his tone teasingly condescending.

Already, you couldn’t think enough to form words to respond. Your entire being was focused down to where Steve was slowly pressing his thick, hard cock into your little pussy. All you could do was moan loudly.

Steve laughed at you, though the sound was a little choked as he bottomed out inside you, his hips pressed flush against your ass. You could feel the material of his slacks on the backs of your thighs and you realized he hadn’t stripped before joining you on the bed. “Already braindead and I’ve only just started fucking you, sweetheart,” he teased, leaning over your body so he could speak directly in your ear.

You tried to writhe beneath him, impatient for him to start moving and fucking you like he’d promised. A loud whine escaped as you begged without words for him to fuck you properly. Your fingers scrabbled against the blanket, trying to find purchase enough to fuck yourself back on his length.

“Oh my fucktoy is desperate for my cock, isn’t she?” he mocked ruthlessly, snagging your wrists and pulling your arms behind your back. Your shoulders protested a little, stiff from being in that position in the hallway, but you didn’t fight against his hold.

With one hand, Steve firmly held your wrists together against your lower back while he readjusted himself. He planted his foot on the bed next to your knee, the position forcing his cock deeper, hitting the end of you and making you cry out sharply at the sensation of being so fully filled. Steve’s other hand pressed your head down into the mattress, pinning you to the bed. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll make it worth the wait,” he growled as he pulled out slowly, teasingly.

Since your head was turned to the side, you could still see him and the sight took your breath away. Steve Rogers—Captain America—looked feral with need, and it was all for you. You’d had no doubt he could make you drunk on his cock, but you were just as drunk on his obvious desire for you. A long, needy moan fell from your lips, devolving into a whimpering whine as you tried to force Steve to move faster.

“So fucking desperate,” Steve muttered. He’d paused with just the tip of his dick still in your pussy. “I love it,” he grunted as he plunged ruthlessly back into your little hole, making you squeal and scream as he hit that spot deep inside you.

“You’re so wet, you’re dripping all over my cock,” he muttered, pulling out and driving back in rougher than before. “Such a perfect little fucktoy for me.” He set a fast pace, fucking you with long, brutal strokes. His hips snapped against your ass, his balls pounding against your clit on every thrust. “Your cunt’s so tight—fuck, you’re perfect.” He grunted, curling over your back so his lips were right next to your ear when he repeated himself. “Perfect.”

The vehemence in his tone washed over you and made you shiver. The walls you’d built up around you fully shattered and you felt your heart soar at the praise, as it started to really sink in. Steve groaned as your body trembled beneath his.

“That’s right,” Steve muttered, his lips grazing your cheek as he fucked into you roughly, your whole body shaking with every harsh thrust. “Fucking believe me when I tell you how perfect you are.”

A sob escaped your mouth as he fucked you harder, like he was trying to pound the belief into your bones. Your fingers twisted until you gripped his hand that still held your arms behind your back, clinging onto him the only way you could.

He kissed your cheek messily, snapping his hips harder against your ass. He was fucking you so hard, you suspected he was using some of his super soldier strength, but it felt so good you didn’t care. Steve fucked you hard and rough, making it hurt just enough to have your brain melting entirely.

Steve leaned up, pulling his hand away from your head, which was your first warning he was going to do something new. “God—fuck—you feel so good, sweetheart,” he muttered as he slapped your ass hard enough to leave a handprint, making you scream into the bed. Your inner walls clenched down on his cock and he grunted. “Squeezing my cock so tight.” He rubbed the spot he’d smacked, soothing the sting away. “Such a perfect little fucktoy,” he praised in a gravelly voice. “Getting off on how hard and rough I’m fucking you.”

It wasn’t a question, but you nodded and sobbed out your pleasure. Helplessly, you writhed beneath Steve, wanting to show him how much you loved the way he treated you. His hand caressed your ass as a reward.

“Gonna make me come deep in your pretty little pussy, d’you want that?” he asked, slapping your ass again and making you clench down on his cock. “Want Captain America to breed you, fucktoy?”

Too far gone in the physical sensations, you couldn’t think, could only let your body react. Your pussy clenched in response to his words, and you moaned shamelessly. Your head jerked in something like a desperate nod as you writhed in Steve’s hold, trying to take his cock deeper.

“Oh, my fucktoy likes that idea,” Steve teased mercilessly, slowing his pace but keeping up the long, deep strokes so you could feel every inch of his cock as he pulled it out and pressed back into your gripping pussy. “You’re on birth control, aren’t you?”

“IUD,” you wheezed out, trying to catch your breath. You were lost in the feel of Steve’s cock, as cockdrunk as he’d promised you’d be.

“Good,” Steve said on exhale. “That’s a conversation for a time when I’m not balls deep in your pretty pussy,” he muttered, leaning down to drop a sweet kiss on your cheek. Before you could respond, he was rising back up and speeding up the pace of his thrusts. “Gonna come deep in your cunt, sweetheart—fill you up till you’re overflowing with my seed,” he promised roughly, fucking into you with purpose.

You babbled incoherently, a dazed smile on your lips. It was the most you could offer, the sharp turn back to dirty talking Steve Rogers having shut your brain off again. He didn’t seem to mind in the least, bending forward to kiss the corner of your smile, chuckling hoarsely.

“That’s my good girl,” he murmured in your ear, fucking you hard and pushing you to the edge of your pleasure. “Gonna let me breed you for my birthday?” His tone was teasing, but there was an undercurrent of hunger that called out to you.

You were so close to your release, your mind drunk on pleasure, but you nodded for him. “Breed me, Cap,” you begged, your voice little more than gasps as you drowned in the feel of his cock fucking you roughly.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he said quietly, reverently. Then Steve was rising up, his hand pushing your head harshly into the mattress while his hips snapped against your ass.

He fucked you so fast and so hard you could barely breathe, but you didn’t care. You were spiraling deeper and deeper into pleasure, and you were so close. You just needed a little more to push you over the edge, but you were too far gone to ask or beg or do anything other than moan and mumble into the blankets.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Steve growled the praise as he felt you getting closer. “You’re gonna come on my cock and you’re gonna let me fill up your pussy like a good fucktoy, aren’t you?” he asked gruffly, though you knew he didn’t expect an answer.

Steve reached under your body and slapped your clit—hard. The sting of pain mixed with the feel of his cock pounding your pussy and you shattered apart. Your whole body clenched as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you, your vision whiting out for a moment. When you came back to your senses, you were screaming into the mattress to muffle the sound.

Steve rutted into you with hard, uneven strokes, drawing out your own release until, with a roaring shout, he pressed fully into your pussy and came. You felt him shoot his load deep inside your gripping cunt, the warmth spreading through you and making your inner walls ripple with aftershocks. Steve pumped lazily, fucking his come deeper inside and then he sagged against your back.

Rolling to the side and pulling you with him, Steve gathered you into his arms, your back to his front, his cock still buried inside you. You fit perfectly in the cradle of his arms, but wished he’d taken his clothes off before joining you in bed. For a few moments, you just lay there catching your breath.

When you’d mostly recovered, you stroked your fingertips lightly along his forearms, where he held you tightly around your waist. He hummed in sated pleasure, nuzzling the back of your neck before kissing you beneath your ear.

“Two options,” he started, and you hid a giggle in the pillow under your head. “I clean us up and you fall asleep in my arms,” he offered and paused to suck the skin of your neck between his teeth, leaving a little mark.

You moaned softly, tilting your head to give him as much access as you could. Even with the delightful distraction, a part of your mind waited for the anxiety to come. The thought rose up that the other option could be Steve asking you to leave, but you easily brushed that worry aside. He said he’d wanted more than one night and you trusted him.

“Orrr,” he continued, drawing out the word. “I go ask for Coulson’s permission to marry you and we find a late-night chapel to make it official,” Steve said, keeping his voice serious. “Thor’s probably ordained, right?”

Your eyes popped open and you spun around to face him, the movement dragging his cock from your sore pussy. You faltered and let out a low hiss, but shook it off and gave Steve a stern look. “You’re not that old-fashioned, Steven Grant Rogers,” you scolded him, using your Captain America trivia knowledge to pull the full name card on him.

Concern had flickered across his features in response to your hiss of pain, but at your rebuke, he burst out laughing. After a moment, you fell against his chest, giggling helplessly. When you both finally sobered, you looked at him expectantly.

“I was gonna say, option two is we go another round, but I think we need to give your pussy a break,” he said, reaching down to stroke your lower lips tenderly. He was right, you were sore, but you couldn’t help the way your eyes hooded at the feel of him touching you there. Gently, he pressed a kiss to your lips. “Tomorrow,” he promised and started gathering you into his arms, lifting you off the bed and carrying you to the bathroom.

It took you a moment to work up the courage as he set you down on the counter beside the sink and moved away to start the water. “You’re sure,” you asked, Steve’s back to you. It felt like you were asking about a lot more than just whether he wanted to fuck you again tomorrow.

Steve turned back to you, a calm, sure look on his face. It was the same steady self-assuredness that had always drawn you to him. Captain America always seemed like a rock, someone you could trust and rely on, no matter what. In the short moments it took Steve to cross the bathroom and stand between your thighs, it dawned on you that he wanted to be your rock—he was yours to trust. And you did.

“You’re my present, right?” he asked, his eyes locked on yours.

You nodded, a grin tugging at the corners of your lips. You felt settled having realized you really trusted him; you felt safe wanting him because you believed he wanted you too. As Steve’s sharp eyes took in your expression, you knew he saw it written all over your face.

“You’re the best birthday gift I’ve ever gotten,” he admitted, a happy grin spreading across his face as he leaned in for a kiss. “And I’m keeping you.”

new year, new steve

[steve rogers x f!reader]

summary: a stranger kisses steve at a new year's party and it ignites something in him that he never lets himself have.

words: 4.5k

notes/warnings: smut, no use of y/n.

a/n: i'm back, baby! please enjoy one of the most unhinged things i've ever written. written especially for @fandoms-writings for her neon party! <3

***

The door banged against the wall. Steve turned around fast enough to see a panicked woman rush into the room and leap at him–arms akimbo, lips persistent… she kissed him. 

Steve loved kissing. He just didn’t do it very often. Not since his notoriety became a burden, and being attached to Captain America meant more attention than most women were willing to put up with when it came with questions like how’s it feel to suck America’s dick? shouted at you coming out of his apartment building. Natasha Romanov had never once seen an inkling of Steve’s private quarters, but she had come up with a ready answer for nosy paparazzo anyhow–“Patriotic. Now fuck off.” 

Steve liked women, but by nature of his role in the world, he never got within ten feet of a woman who might really know what the country’s preeminent ass looked like outta spandex or khakis.

But this woman clung to his lapels like his tux was made of crepe paper, and kissed him within an inch of his life, and… despite all his assertions to Nat that he wasn’t interested in dating, he sure slipped his fingers into the velvet of this woman’s dress like it was gonna melt in his palms.

“Shit–sorry, Cap–” a surprised man said behind them.

“We didn’t know!” another man piped up.

The woman pulled away enough that Steve could see her aghast expression, but his body shielded her from the view of the men. He cleared his throat, and nodded at her faintly, as if to say… I’ll take it from here.

“Now you know,” Steve said evenly. Lowly. It was the only way his voice would come out after being kissed like he was a CPR dummy in a high school health class. He turned around. 

“We were just talkin’--”

“I’d say she made it pretty clear she wasn’t interested. Or do you make a habit of ignoring basic social cues, such as–say–actively trying to get away from you? Because where I stand… that kinda behavior is about as low as a guy can get. Wouldn’t you agree?” Steve crossed his arms over his chest to keep his hands from shaking. The fury rising in him seemed to come from another time, another era of his life… when soldiers choked out excuses for pursuing the dancers from his USO act, when the suit he wore was sewn from what fabric could be scrapped together in the middle of a world war and not finely woven wool.

He knew the two men before him, but not well enough to have an established rapport. They were both SHIELD recruits from the Air Force who hadn’t been around long enough for Tony to coach the bravado out of them. 

“You’re still standing here, for what?” Steve asked. Neither men had moved an inch; instead, they were both flushed and at a loss for an explanation. The taller of the two looked angry, but not enough to test Steve’s patience. Which was for the best: when it came to bullies, Steve’s patience had been worn to the bone approximately eighty years prior. 

Steved nodded to the door. “You fellas are going home. Aren’t you?” It wasn’t optional.

The angrier man pressed his lips in a thin line and yanked his buddy out of the room by the elbow.

“Cap’s old lady–Jesus, Benny…” one of the men muttered to the other as they beat a hasty retreat back down the hallway, towards the lively sounds of the SHIELD New Year’s bash. The mahogany door shut forcefully, leaving Steve and his new acquaintance alone.

He turned back to the stranger who had kissed the life out of him, and she stepped back. Her hands rose to cover her mouth, and all the anger and frustration fled from his body.

“Shit–I’m sorry–”

“It’s okay,” he said quickly.

“No, I just… they were bothering me and I couldn’t find my sister, and I didn’t realize this place dead-ended back here… you’re–oh my god. I’m so sorry.”

Steve couldn’t help but smile as she dissolved into embarrassment. “No, don’t be. Not every day a lady kisses me for no reason. Well, I suppose you had one–but it doesn’t happen much. These days. So. Happy New Year to me.” He rocked back on his heels and stuffed his hands in his pockets to pretend nonchalance. The woman wasn’t someone he recognized from the roster of agents he worked with, but… she was beautiful. And so very soft and good at kissing. Too good, maybe. Was he even any good at it anymore? Steve didn’t know. 

“Not every day Captain America comes to my rescue, so.”

“I got carried away,” he cringed.

“Agree to disagree. Should’ve heard the shit they were saying out there.”

Steve thumbed at the door. “I can drag ‘em back here for another round–”

“Don’t waste your time. I think the tall guy pissed himself. I’m satisfied.”

Steve covered a smile with a light cough into his fist. 

“You’re hiding in here,” she said softly, less a judgment than an observation. 

Steve toed the ground. “I’m not a party guy. If this wasn’t the penthouse, I probably would’ve crawled out the window.”

“No… but you’re The Guy–”

“Yeah, well,” he sighed. “Hate being looked at.”

“Hate it,” she echoed with a gentle nod. “Looking at you is torture.”

He chuckled. “Sorry to offend, ma’am. Won’t happen again.”

“Nice lips, though.” 

They smiled at one another as if neither was really sure if the other was serious, or if they ought to play it off as a silly mistake. Instead… Steve spied a sideboard with a carafe of some kind of liquor and a set of crystal tumblers. He nodded to it and raised an eyebrow in silent offering. 

“A double?” she asked.

“How about I pour and you tell me when to stop,” he said, pulling the cork from the bottle. 

“Pour it the length of the kiss.”

He peered at her over his shoulder in surprise and something like… amusement, at her candor. But she was sheepish, and just as uncomfortable with reveling in something done in haste. She twisted her hands. Rather than prolong her torture (or his), he handed her over a glass (with a matching amount of whiskey to his own), and clinked them together.

“Steve.”

“I know.” She sipped the whiskey and studied him over the rim of the glass.

“It is customary to provide your name in exchange, I believe.” He leaned against the large desk which occupied most of the center of the room.

“Everybody knows you.”

“Your sister works for SHIELD?” he pressed.

She sat in the chair at his knee, crossing her own, which allowed her hem to creep up her leg. Steve definitely didn’t choke on whiskey over a peek of ink on her thigh. 

“We’re not related. Just—my friend didn’t want to come alone so it was the only way to get me on the list. We don’t even look alike, but it worked.”

“These events are a minefield, especially solo. As our two friends demonstrated.”

“No date?”

Steve shook his head. “Not a lot of women lining up to do the song and dance.”

“Which is…?”

“Shaking hands. Kissing babies.”

“Being good enough for Captain America,” she murmured. Her brow furrowed as she studied him. 

“I’m just a guy,” he chuckled. “Put my pants on one leg at a time.”

“Huh. Who’d have thought? I can’t get a bite on any dating app because I don’t hike or take soul-searching trips for enlightenment, and Steve Rogers can’t get a date because he’s too famous.”

“Pathetic,” he said, but it made her throw her head back and laugh warmly. He felt his cheeks flush.

“I’m hungry,” she said, “want to brave the buffet line for some scraps?”

“There’s a new food truck set to arrive every hour on the hour, so. Probably still more than enough for two.”

“Can you bear being seen with me?” 

His head snapped up again at the thought of making her worry, but her face was sanguine. “Be my date?” He countered.

The pleased moue of her lips said it all. Except— “don’t usually kiss a guy until the third date.”

“All the more reason.”

“And… then what?”

Steve shrugged and cleared his throat. “I don’t know.”

“Hmm. Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“You might want to, um. Adjust yourself. First.”

“I was really hoping you wouldn’t notice,” Steve cringed. His dick was straining in his briefs like he was fresh outta cryosleep seeing a woman for the first time in eighty years.

“I mean. If you wanna walk out into that party like that—“

“No, that’s good, keep it up; the embarrassment will make it go down,” he said, turning his back to her in mortification.

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly, “I’m nervous.”

“You, sweetheart?” Steve huffed, downing the rest of his whiskey. “You got me on the verge of making a fool of myself. I don’t know your name, but my dignity just doesn’t seem to care.”

“You must think I’m desperate,” she said softly. 

Steve shook his head. “Such a thought from me at this moment might be hypocritical.”

Her mouth twisted like she was trying not to laugh, but she looked mortified.

“I’m gonna go. Out there. I’ll meet you. Um. You’re—I haven’t had enough booze to be saying this. You’re uh, a good kisser, Steve Rogers.”

“Love to do it again sometime,” he murmured, once he was alone in the room again. Still didn’t know her name, but he sure as hell was going to follow her to figure it out. Once his trigger-happy awareness cooled down. As long as he didn’t dwell on how good it felt to grasp her waist, to feel her surprised huff of a breath against his mouth when he returned her first kiss, or how good she smelled, or the curve of her calf when she crossed her legs, or… or… or anything. Think of this nameless succubus like an amorphous blob, and not like someone who seemed to map herself to his chest like she was as tailor-made to fit him as his suit.

Which… Steve didn’t remember the last time he let himself indulge in a woman. Maybe he was starved for touch, or some such thing. Regardless, he had to get out of that office, and she was a pretty enticing reason to do so. And everyone at that party had signed an NDA at the door, so he could let himself loose a little. Maybe undo the top button of his shirt. Go wild.

He downed the rest of his drink and hastened out of the haven of Tony’s office.

The hallway was blessedly deserted. Twenty strides to the mouth of the beast, and leaning against the wall on the verge of being swallowed by the throng… a familiar woman waited. He admired her figure, the way she was soft and soft and soft, and–Steve sighed. At that rate, he’d walk into a crowd with dick a-waving, and all for this woman whose name he didn’t know. He calmed his breathing and stepped up beside her. Without peering at her, he brushed his knuckles against the hand which hung at her side. She jumped, and then looped her fingertips with his. Loosely, so he’d have to be diligent about staying beside her if he wanted to keep holding on to her. 

Steve couldn’t think of many things he wanted more than that. 

Someone did catch his eye from across the room, and Steve couldn’t stop what followed. 

“Enjoying the party, Rogers?” Tony patted his shoulder harder than necessary and smiled too brightly at the woman on his arm.

“You know I love your parties.”

“He’s a terrible liar,” Tony mock-whispered to the woman.

“One of his better qualities, I think,” she replied with a tone that made Steve squeeze her fingers to… what, warn her? Stop saying nice things about me, it’s torture! She squeezed back. “I heard talk of a Cubano truck. I hope you aren’t going to let me down, Mr. Stark.”

“Cubanos await you in the front drive, along with just about any cuisine you can think of, other than the pierogis. Gone in ten minutes! I blame Banner. ‘M Tony, by the way,” he said, offering a hand. 

“I know,” she laughed, shaking his hand.

“And you are?”

“You gotta earn it. C’mon, Rogers.” She tugged Steve towards the elevator.

Once they were alone in the lift, Steve wiggled his fingers further into her grasp. She looked up at him. “I haven’t earned it, huh?” he murmured.

“Oh you have. I just like to see you squirm.” Her eyes glinted in amusement. 

Steve straightened so he loomed over her, but she lifted her chin defiantly. And then she leaned against the corner of the lift, and pulled his hand until he shadowed her from the ambient elevator lighting. But it was Steve who felt cornered. By the sweet smile on her lips, and the tug of the plush pink softness between her teeth as she watched the wheels turn in his head, and by his own desperate desire to hold a woman again, to be touched and teased–they were sharing air when he came to, a breath passing between them like it was the last air on earth, and he studied her irises… how her pupils dilated, and slyness dropped from her expression to reveal something like curiosity. She tilted her head as if to say ‘what’s wrong?’ Steve shook his head on floor fifteen, and leaned in on fourteen, and kissed her on thirteen. And twelve. And on down, but never once letting his hands do more than squeeze hers. She was peachy, and sweet like the whiskey they had shared.

She gasped when he ground himself against her, and raised their joined hands to her sides. She arched into the warmth of his fingers. Nipples pebbled. Steve couldn’t decide whether to map her body with his hands or his lips, so he chose both–nipping at the soft skin of her neck and teasing one strap of her dress over the curve of her shoulder until it slid of its own volition. God love a woman, he thought. This one, with her breast exposed to the chilled air and heat of his breath. He wouldn’t let goosebumps go unkissed, or nipples for that matter. The moan at the back of her throat when he fastened his lips around her nipple was his triumph. How much more could he find victory in her pleasure? Was there a limit to such things?

“Kiss me again?” she pleaded. Steve cupped her cheeks like an apology. The drag of her tongue against the seam of his mouth had him cursing inwardly, in language he’d never let himself utter out loud. He wanted to fuck her, but if all he could do for her was kiss her sweet mouth, that might be enough. He’d wrap a hand around his dick driving home, he could take care of himself and not put that pressure on her. She didn’t have to do a thing more than kiss him, but he wanted her to. If she wanted to. If she wanted him, too.

She smiled against his lips when the elevator dinged at their destination. Steve groaned. 

“I–there’s no excuse, I’m so sorry,” he began, but she stopped his words with gentle fingers over his lips.

“Please tell me you’re not drunk,” she whispered, straightening her dress to conceal her body, much to his chagrin.

He chuckled. “Only drink I've had tonight I shared with you, sweetheart.”

“Not one woman in your life?”

Steve shook his head. His answer seemed to satisfy her greatly, if her grin was any indication. She pulled him through the lobby, but on the front drive (despite the fact that the sidewalk was choc-full of agents and party-goers making food selections from a cadre of trucks and mingling), Steve looped her hand through his arm and made a choice. 

She kept stride with him. Away from the party, through the lot, to the over-fancy car Natasha had talked him into buying. She leaned against the passenger door, preventing him from opening it. 

“What do you want?” she whispered. “Hm?” Steve looked down at his shoes sheepishly, but she touched his cheek. “You don’t need to be embarrassed, I–I hope it’s obvious that I want you, Steve. We could go to mine. Nobody even has to know, honestly. I won’t tell. I mean, I’ll tell myself sometimes, but I won’t believe me.”

He chuckled, and then shook his head. “We’ll go to my place.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Yeah?”

“Yes. What about your friend?”

“I’ll text her.” She whipped a phone from god-knows-where and shot off a quick text. When she looked up at him again, she was flushed. “I don’t do this–”

“Me neither.”

“You don’t even know my name.”

“About that…” Steve levels his eyes with hers. “I gotta know what name I’m supposed to use.”

“Oh? You a talker?”

“A woman gives me the honor of touching her, I’ve got an obligation to a little veneration.”

“Fuck–”

“Only if you give me your name,” Steve murmured against her neck, making her shiver. 

“Then you’ll fuck me?”

“I’ll fuck you.” 

“Cap’s got a dirty mouth, huh?”

Steve cringed. “Please–if you wanna fuck Captain America, then I can’t do this–”

“No, no.” She grasped his lapels so he wouldn’t step away. “It’s not like that. You’re Steve to me. Okay? I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m–shit, sweetheart. People are going to give you so much guff.”

“Who’s ‘people’?”

“Anybody who knows. I don’t wanna hide you, but you gotta know that. There’s usually a paparazzo outside my apartment, and we’re just asking for a billion stories about ‘Cap’s New Girlfriend’, blah blah blah. You’ll have people dogging you about it–”

“Okay.” 

Steve blinked. She smiled at him softly.

“You done thinking of reasons why I shouldn’t want you? Because I’m feeling a little jerked around, here–”

“‘M done,” he said. “I just. Want you to know.” She sought the buttons of his coat and undid them so she could snake her hands inside. Steve stepped into the embrace. 

“I’ve seen what you do to bullies, Rogers. I’m not afraid.”

Steve opened the back passenger door and kept eye contact with her as he slid inside. It took her a split second to follow. The moment the door shut behind her, he hit the lock and tossed the keys somewhere and pulled her to straddle him. She nipped his ear lobe and then whispered her name in his ear. Steve rolled the letters around on his tongue and found it most satisfying to see the way her eyes fluttered as he repeated it back to her. And again when he pressed her hips to his.

“N-nice car.”

“I just bought it,” he muttered.

“Happy to help you christen it.”

“Panties off.”

He regretted that it was too dark to see the color of the panties that she shimmied to the floor, but he had every intention of offering her his laundry if they ever made it to his place, so he was confident he’d get to enjoy them on and off her body more than once, god willing. Steve forgot what it was like to slip his fingers between a woman’s thighs and find her wet, and warm–he cursed himself for depriving himself of such things as this beautiful woman shuddered at his touch. Her bundle of nerves swelled as he worried it with gentle circles, and he was in heaven.

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. So wet–I’d have no problem working my dick into you and I’ve barely touched you.”

“Kissing–god, kissing makes me so fucking wet,” she breathed. “And you did suck on my nipple in the elevator. You an exhibitionist, Rogers?”

“Maybe I am. Should I roll down the windows so everybody can see you come?”

“Fuck.”

“What?”

“I want your fingers. Finger me.”

“I don’t know, you didn’t answer my question.”

“Ugh–crack the windows.”

“You want them to see you.”

“I want you to make me come so hard that I might give us away.”

“Fucking hell, woman.” Steve unzipped his pants in haste. “Roll them down how much you want them, then I’ll make you come.”

As she leaned over to the passenger side window, Steve rucked her skirt up over her hips and moved behind her so her face was inches from the glass. “What’s wrong?” he asked, but his hands made quick work of touching her exactly how he had been dying to since she first kissed him. He sank one finger into her heat as she depressed the window a few inches. 

“Someone might see,” she moaned breathlessly, sitting back to fuck herself on his meaty finger. 

“I hope they do. You’re a goddess.” He stroked her until she was turned on enough to take a second finger, and then he poised her to take them–but only if she sat on them. She worked herself down slowly, head thrown back. Her mouth was open but all coherent words fled from her tongue. Steve yanked her straps off and exposed her breasts. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.”

“Fuck me, please, please–”

“Soak my hand, sweetheart.” He pushed her shoulders so she had to brace herself on the door. He thrust his fingers into her pussy, taking great care not to touch her clit to prolong her climax. She whined.

“Ruin my suit. Come on. You’re squeezing me like a vice, I know you wanna come.”

“Can’t, can’t.”

“Listen to me. You can.”

“Touch my clit.”

“What do you say?”

“Please?” she breathed.

Steve crowded behind her, pushing his hips against his hand to fuck her harder into his fingers, and then he found the swollen clit again, begging to be touched. Her orgasm hit like a wave; her head fell back against his shoulder, and she keened. Loud enough to be heard from outside, and like it came from guttural pleasure. Steve reveled in the rush of cum which flooded his hand and soaked his cuff. He pressed the window button down again, releasing the glass a few more inches. Their position was shielded by a cadre of SUV’s, but if someone came for the black car beside them, they’d see her tits flushed with a sheen of sweat while she heaved with breaths of relief. Steve flicked her nipple with his free hand and she jolted, but she grinned up at him. 

“Too tired to take my dick?” he growled in her ear. She shook her head.

“Wanna see you,” she said. 

Steve helped her turn to face him, not bothering to wipe his hand or bother with any such thing. How could he think of such things when her soft hands had crept inside his waistband to cup him through his briefs? He rolled his hips as she stroked him through the fabric.

“You’re beautiful.” She bit her lip. “I need you.” She pushed him until he sat back against the seat, and tapped his hip so he’d lift up enough to let her strip his pants down to his ankles. For just a moment, Steve floated out of his body to watch from above as the gorgeous woman who had just come all over his fingers released his dick from his underwear and rubbed his tip between her folds. How lucky–the thought dissipated. She sank down, taking him slowly to savor the stretch. 

Steve blanched. “Fuck–condom–”

“Don’t need it. Birth control.” She rolled her hips and Steve saw stars. It occurred to him how long it had been since he’d felt a woman’s warmth around his dick, but this one was velvet and he didn’t care if he never fucked another woman again. But maybe he could fuck this woman a few more times. Or a lot more. 

“Oh my god, don’t… I’ll come too fast–”

“My bad,” she giggled. She fully seated herself over him and clasped her hands behind his neck with an innocent smile. “Wouldn’t want you to come, would we?” Steve glared at her.

“You think you’re so cute,” he grumbled, nipping her bottom lip.

“Big talk, I can feel you twitching inside me like you wanna come right this second.”

“Keep it up and I might not let you outta my bed for a week.”

“Promise?” 

She contracted her inner muscles and Steve bit his lip. “You asked for it. Gonna have to fuck that sass right out of you.”

“You can try, big guy.” She rolled her hips and impaled herself on him, riding him hard. She didn’t seem to care if all the world heard them, or saw her, or if he came in three seconds–and for his part, Steve didn’t see a downside. He curled his fingers into her hips and gave her back as good as she gave him. It was fucking, most certainly, but it also felt like time had ceased to tick since he felt her lips touch his for the first time. Maybe the new year wouldn’t come until he did, he thought, but boy if he wasn’t on the verge.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, slowly canting her hips. “You’re allowed to give in.”

“Am I?” His eyes searched her soft gaze, and she nodded. “I don’t get these things, sweetheart.”

“Says who? Who’s been lying to you? You don’t get to be fucked silly in the back of a car like a teenager?” She smiled. “You of all people.”

“Is that what you’re doing?” Steve touched her cheek, almost like he didn’t mean to, but he felt suddenly bashful.

“I’m gonna fuck every doubt outta your head.”

She made good on that promise. When he came, he saw pure light behind his eyelids, like heat through his eyelids on a sunny morning. With every contraction of her inner muscles, he thrust up into her, even though he had nothing left to give. Her second orgasm was his final triumph. Her nails clasped his shoulders, and she moaned into his mouth, and Steve rubbed her clit until she couldn’t take any more. When her fingers found his wrist to pull his hand away, she linked their fingers. They breathed the same air again, foreheads pressed together, and both of them smiled.

“What am I going to tell the dry cleaner?” he murmured.

She laughed, head thrown back in delight. She rolled the window back up and kissed him sweetly. Nobody saw them, that they knew of, and nobody could hear them over the countdown to the New Year, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t the sexiest moment of his very long life.

Some days or weeks later, when time began to tick again, Steve emerged from his apartment one morning with a woman on his arm. They both wore sunglasses, and they didn’t shy away from smiling at one another like they shared a secret. As promised, there was a paparazzo waiting with indiscreet flashes and even raunchier questions for the woman, but she paused to pose with Steve so the man could get a good photo of them. Then, she dragged her glasses down her nose.

“America can fight me for his dick,” she said brightly to the reporter. Steve shook his head, but he laughed and followed his girlfriend to the car. Try as he might, he just couldn’t fuck the sass out of her.

Sure was fun trying, though.

***

thanks for reading!

my masterlist - my marvel masterlist

𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐥𝐲 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑

Pairing: dark!Ransom Drysdale/reader

Warnings: breeding kink! virginity kink! sort of naive!reader dubious!consent collegeAU! | 18+ MINORS DNI!

Summary: After a little too much liquid courage, you find yourself stuck in a whirlwind with Boston's very own Golden Boy; Ransom Drysdale.

please don’t repost my fics anywhere thank you ❤️

The sun bleeds through your white curtains, gently waking you up. You stretch out, rolling around in your sheets; trying to find sleep again. You rub at your cheek with a half sleeve-covered hand.

You look down at your arm, blinking at the white fabric and turn to the other side of your empty bed. His figure is still imprinted on your sheets. You brush a hand gently on your throat and feel his teeth indented on your skin.

Your throat tightens up as tears push at your waterline, threatening to pour. You sit up, drawing your knees to your chest, letting out a tiny whimper as pain radiates through your body. You drop your head to your knees, crying in the emptiness of your cold dorm room.

—

Ransom stares at the wall across from him, laying on his side, head propped on a pillow, wrapped in a light sheet. He sighs, closing his eyes and picturing the way you smiled at him yesterday; when he gave you the MacBook.

You giggled at him and he swore his heart stopped.

He groans and rolls out of bed. He goes to the bathroom, stripping down and starting up a shower. He steps under the steaming water and washes down, hissing softly at the sting of the faint scrapes you gave him last night.

He lets his mind wander; remembering the way you felt around him last night. The way you were warm and slick, hot and tight. The way you let out the softest little whimpers whenever he did something you liked. The way you looked up at him, doe-eyed, cheeks flushed. The way you arched against him, clutching him to you as your legs shook. The way you screamed his name. The way you tasted.

It gets him hard, fast. He gnaws his bottom lip before taking himself in hand, jerking himself the way you did. A little sloppy and he moans, holding himself up with a palm against the tile wall. He speeds up his hand, shaking and pants. He lets his eyes slip closed, picturing your face—your eyes as you looked down at him when you were perched on his lap.

He groans, spilling into his closed fist. He sighs, cleaning his hand and pinches the bridge of his nose.

—

He doesn’t see you again for another 3 weeks. He shakes the powdered snow off his coat and fixes his hair as he walks into the campus library.

He walks up the stairs to the 3rd floor, the most empty of the 5, and finds you leaning over a book. He rolls his eyes and sits beside you. You’re asleep, drooling over the textbook. He runs his thumb over the back of your palm and you blink up at him.

“What?” Your voice is groggy, as you rub your eyes.

“You fell asleep.” He whispers, gently cupping your cheek. You move your head away from his palm and frown.

You look down at your textbook, ink scribbled over the edge of the paper. You look down at your hand, as it faces the same fate.

You whine and stretch, vertebrae popping under your skin. You curl into yourself, tucking your arms under you. You lean back into your chair and he eyes you, you stare down at your textbook.

“What’s wrong?” He asks.

“You left, Ransom. You keep doing this, using me and leaving.”

He goes silent, looking down at his hand, and sighs, swirling his ring around his pinky finger. He brushes his hair back and shrugs. That damn weight shifts back into his chest. You sigh and shake your head. You rub at your eyes and start packing your things up, he watches you, rolling his eyes.

“Don’t go.” He whispers.

You turn to him and scoff, shrugging. “What do you want me to do, Ransom? Sit and wait for the next time it rains so you stay? How about you just save that for the bimbos of the school, huh?”

He grabs your arm and brings you to his chest. You end up with your hands on his chest, with his on your waist, in the empty library. You swallow as you blush and settle back on your feet. Ransom keeps you pressed to him.

The floor’s elevator beeps and Ransom drops you, taking a step back—rubbing his neck. You turn to the group of football players, who are laughing amongst themselves.

You sigh and go to walk away, as the group comes and crowds you, walking you back into Ransom’s chest. He brings an arm around you and pins you to him. Your breathing picks up and he shushes you.

“Drysdale, didn’t we tell you, you’ve gotta share your toys.”

“Nah, c’mon man, leave her alone.”

Marco, Ransom thinks his name is, chuckles turning back to the others, cockily smirking.

“We just wanna have some fun with precious here. Don’t we boys?” The team snickers behind Marco and Ransom shakes his head.

“Walk away, man, c’mon.”

Marco snides, reaching down to grab at your skirt. You jump back and Ransom moves you behind him. Your eyes dart from Ransom to the group and you back away a little. Ransom crowds Marco’s space and glares at him.

“C’mon, Drysdale, let me get some of that. I know there’s enough to share.” He chuckles, looking behind Ransom to you, winking. Your heart rises into your throat as Ransom shoves Marco back.

“Go.”

“Aw, lighten up, we just wanna play a little that’s all.”

“I said go.”

“Drysdale, let’s compromise, you get the first hit and I’ll just take her throat.”

Ransom’s blood boils and he glares at Marco who’s laughing along with the other players. Ransom swings a right hook to his face and an uppercut, before punching him straight in the nose.

The other players circle around Ransom shouting curses and laughs as students from the upper and lower levels come running to see the commotion. You push past the now growing crowd and tug at Ransom's shirt, anxiously whining. Ransom keeps throwing blows until Marco’s face is painted in blood, it covers Ransom’s fists.

“Ransom, stop. Please, we have to go. We have to go!” He turns to you and nods, huffing. He leaves Marco on the floor and grabs your bag, taking your hand and running down the fire escape to the back of the building. He drags you to his car and you hop in. He starts it up and speeds off.

“Fuck.”

“Ransom—”

“No! Ok?” He turns to you, eyes intent.

You swallow and nod, he sighs and punches the steering wheel. He grumbles to himself as you dig into your bag. You let out a little triumphant ‘hmpf’ and pull out a small container of Wet Wipes. He eyes you and you hold out a hand. He shakes his head.

“Not happening, that’s gonna sting like a bitch.”

“Well, you’re getting blood all over the steering wheel. It’s gross.”

He looks down at his hands and huffs, holding his palm out for you. You make quick work of cleaning him up, getting between his fingers and even under his ring. You clean his other hand, which is covered in more blood and tsk, having to use another wipe.

When you’re done, you lean over, and wipe off the steering wheel. He looks at you, then down to your chest, taking in your white turtleneck. You blush and sit back in your seat. He sighs, gripping the steering wheel till his knuckles turn white.

“Fuck!” He punches the steering wheel again. It makes you jump and he rolls his eyes. “Can you not fucking flinch all the time? It’s annoying.”

You pout, staring down at your shoes and he huffs, pushing his foot against the gas, flooring it as he runs a minimum of 5 red lights. You grip on the door and swallow thickly, eyes wide as he whips the car down a dirt road. You look around and see the car is entrapped with bushes and trees. He parks the car and gets out.

You watch with wide eyes as he goes to your side and opens the door. “Get out.”

“What?”

“Get. Out.”

You step out with your bag in hand. He takes it and throws it back inside the car. You blink up at him, chest heaving as he stares down at you, jaw hard. You look around and nervously look up at him.

He feels that weight begin to form like a boulder at the center of his chest. You skitter your eyes nervously, twiddling your thumbs.

“Ransom, what—”

He grabs your arm, dragging you to the trunk and spins you around; pushing you against the trunk’s door.

You try to move back and he pushes you back into the trunk with more force. You yelp and stiffen up. You whine and turn to look at him from over your shoulder. 

“Why are you—”

“Shut up.” He bites.

“R-Ransom…please I don’t—”

“I said shut up.”

Your throat tightens as he pushes your feet apart, pulling your skirt down, along with your panties, trapping you. You try to push against Ransom’s palms and he slaps your face. He wrings an arm around you to grab your face. “Don’t fucking move.”

You break down to tears, letting them stream freely as you shiver against the car’s trunk. You hear his belt’s buckle jingle against itself and you let out a soft cry to the empty road. You fight against him, flailing and kicking until he grabs your head, banging it against the trunk. You groan, vision going blurry and body going limp.

You hear his zipper lower and he shifts a little. After a second, he smacks himself against your cunt, chuckling darkly. “Just as wet as the first time. I think you like being used like this.”

In a single thrust, he sheathes himself in you, feeling the way your cunt spasms around him. You bite your lip to hide a cry as tears pour down your face. He groans, grabbing your hips, fucking you against his car. Your tears begin to puddle on the trunk and you hiccup.

“You want something to fucking cry about, you slut?”

You eye him from your peripheral and he pulls a pocket knife from his pocket, flipping it open before bringing it to your eyes. You squeeze them shut, whimpering. He lightly drags the back of the blade along your cheek.

“Do you know what you just cost me, cunt?” He growls, bringing it to your throat. “If I’m correct, which I always am, it’s the second time that I’ve saved you from being meat to strays.”

You whine and try to push against him. He drops the knife to your throat and when you move, it nicks you. You gasp out, eyes wide as you bring a hand to your throat.

“Ransom…”

“You did that shit. You moved, not me.” You try to rise up and he pushes your back down. “Oh, you brainless little slut, that didn’t go well the first time did it?”

You shake your head and he smiles. He drags the knife down your back and slits your coat’s sleeve.

“My—oh.” You whine. He smiles darkly and you frown, going limp against the car. He drops the knife to the floor and grabs your hips again, railing you against his beemer.

You whimper, swallowing thickly as he ravages you. You blink back tears and close your eyes, trying to breathe. Ransom lifts your leg, hooking it over his arm and you cry out. He shushes you, watching as you lay him beneath him, lifeless.

He grunts and huffs. You stare ahead at nothing in particular and he slows his hips. He lowers your leg and gently pulls out.

He cups your cheek and turns you to face him. Your legs give out and he catches you, rolling his eyes. He hefts you up and drags you to the backseat. He opens the door and slides you in. Following you.

You turn away, tears pouring down to your ears. He closes the door behind him, shoves your hair back, cupping your head. Your scalp tingles where his fingers touch.

“Look at me.”

You keep staring at the driver’s seat.

“Look at me.” He tries softer. You slowly turn to him and he fits himself within you. You swallow a whimper and sniffle. He fucks you ruthlessly into the leather seats and grunts. You close your eyes, panting a little and he grabs your throat. You let out a gurgled noise, pushing a hand to his chest and he tightens his grip. Your head starts to heat up and your ears sing. He lets go right as you’re on the verge of passing out.

“Such a stupid bitch. You’re such a stupid bitch. Don’t you know what you could cost me? Don’t you fucking care? Don’t you see what you’re doing to me?” He barks, hitting you once in the side. You cough out, twisting against him and he feels his chest harden.

You cry under him as he grabs your arm in his hand. His strength is bruising, you try to pry your arm away and he slaps you across the face. Your tears come back and he scoffs. He gives a few more thrusts before stopping atop you. He scowls and pulls out, fixing himself back in his pants and gets off you.

He crawls out and slams the door behind him, it shakes the car. You scramble and fix your skirt. He gets into the driver’s seat and starts the car again. He speeds out of the little covered area and starts back to the campus. He parks in front of the cafe across the street and turns to you.

“Get out.”

“Thank you.” You squeak, eyes down at your feet, cheeks wet. He sighs and turns back around. You grab your bag and open the door stepping out.

He watches you, as you stiffly walk into your dorm building and starts up the car, driving back home. You unlock your door and step in. You close it behind you and lock the door, waddling to your bed. You drop your bag and go to the bathroom. You draw a warm bath and pour some bubbles in.

You strip yourself of your clothes and step into the warm water. You hiss and settle down. You sigh and your back cracks and you slouch further into the water. You close your eyes, letting the water fill your ears.

The world goes silent.

You let the water drown you. When you open your eyes again, your fingers have long been pruned and your skin feels oddly clammy under the water. You blink and pull at the tab, letting the water flush out. You stand, grabbing a towel and drying yourself off, brushing your hair into braids. You walk to your closet, legs hurting a lot less and grab an oversized shirt and a pair of shorts.

You walk to the kitchen, grabbing your half-pint of milk and a glass. You grab your unfinished chem notes and go sit on your bed. You turn on your tv and watch half an episode of Blue’s Clues before starting your work.

Halfway through a lab your door raps with a knock. You pause the episode and shake it off—never getting visitors, you assume it’s your neighbors hook-ups.

You resume the episode, smiling as Steve ponder’s what color turtle to get Blue, when your room shakes with another hard pound.

You lower the volume of the show, tiptoeing over to your door. You put your ear to the door and it shakes with another hard pound.

“Ransom?” You whisper.

“Ransom ain’t here, sweetheart.” A voice drips.

You recognize it, deep and rough like sandpaper. The football player Ransom had punched earlier that morning. You never got his name. It chills your bones and you run back to your bed for your phone.

His name’s in lowercase letter, the only contact in your phone other than Daisy.

You send him a text.

You: Ransom, he's outside my room.

A speech bubble pops up on the screen. It dissipates and reappears at least 10 times. You sigh and turn off the screen. Your phone vibrates and you look down.

Ransom: who?

The speech bubble appears and leaves.

Your door shakes with another knock and you gnaw at your bottom lip. You look down at the phone and to the door. You open your texts again.

You: the guy from this morning.

A speech bubble appears and leaves, again.

The door shakes with a knock and you slowly walk to your bed, grabbing a heavy textbook. You grip it in your hand and inch closer to the door. You wait and for a second think the person’s gone before. The room rings with a louder knock, the fist on the other side of the wood banging.

You pick up your phone, calling Ransom.

“What?” He gravels over the line. You breath shakily and hide by the wall beside your bathroom.

“They’re still here.” You whimper, tears welling in your eyes.

“What?”

The room shakes with the door as it’s pounded on. You jump and whimper, sliding down to the floor, cowering down. Ransom’s breathing is heavy over the line, and you whine.

“Stay where you are, I’m coming.”

He ends the call, grabbing his keys and his coat before running out to his car. Snow has begun to fall and he walks to the car, sliding into the driver’s seat and starting the car.

He backs out and whips the car around, flooring the gas and swifts through the mid-day traffic. He pulls by the side of your building and runs up the steps to an elevator. He runs up to your door and his blood boils.

Marco bangs on your door and Ransom clears his throat. “You need something, dickhead? Or was my fist pounding your face not enough?”

Marco turns and scoffs, shaking his head with a smirk. “Damn you, Drysdale.”

“Me? You’re the one pounding my girl’s door.”

“Ain’t the only thing I’ll be pounding.” He smirks.

Ransom growls as you open the door, peeking out at him. Ransom turns to you and shakes his head. You scowl at him, eyes holding no heat and take a step outside. Marco wolf-whistles and you stand with your hands at your stomach, tears on your lashes.

Ransom steps closer to you and takes your hand. “If you have any brains, you’d leave.”

Marco scoffs and shakes his head. “Or what, Drysdale?”

“Or I’ll beat your ass again.” Ransom seethes.

Marco swallows and slowly backs away as Ransom takes a step forward. You gently tug at his arm and shake your head when he looks at you. He nods and you watch as Marco leaves the hall.

He turns to you and sighs. He nudges you into the rook and checks the door. There’s a crack leading from the left hinge to the doorknob. “You’re not staying here.” He says, walking into your room and grabbing your bag. He puts in your keys and your books in your bag and slings it over his shoulder.

“Clothes—”

“I’ll buy you some.” He shrugs. You blink up at him. He looks at the tattered coat you’re wearing and sighs. He takes it off you and gives you his own.

“Anything else you need from here?”

You slip under his arm, rushing to your bed and kneeling at the floor, reaching until you can pull out a crate, it’s caked in dust and cobwebs. It’s holding various items. The one that catches his eye, a Build-A-Bear.

“Just, um, this.” You sniffle, looking down at your hands. He rolls his eyes and ushers you out. You step into the hallway and he locks the door behind you. He takes the crate from you and you clasp your hands at your back.

“Car’s downstairs, make a right. Parked by the library’s side.”

You nod and go down the stairs, two at a time, to his car and wait for Ransom at the door. You rush out, opening the trunk for him and he slides the box and your bag in. You close the trunk and he turns to you.

“Get in.”

You nod and wipe at your cheek. He walks to the driver's side and starts the car. You slouch in your seat and bite back a sob. You lean towards the door, hiccuping. He sighs and shakes his head, driving to his house.

When you pull into the driveway, he gets out, going to the back and pulling out your bag. You walk up to his door and wait. He unlocks the door and ushers you in.

You stand in the foyer, arms at your stomach and he drops your crate and bag by the door. You wipe at your cheek when a stray tear rolls down. Ransom stands and wipes cobwebs off his hands. He turns to look at you, taking a step closer.

“Are you ok?” He whispers.

You sniffle and turn away, nodding. He sighs and wipes a hand down his face. You sit on the couch and he clears his throat.

“There’s a spare room upstairs.” He gestures to the second floor. “You’re staying here until I get your door fixed.” He looks down gritting his teeth, adding under his breath, “and I kick that shithead’s ass.”

You bring your knees up and hiccup. He sighs and stands beside you. You look up at him and he gives a quirk of his lips.

“Thank you.” You breathe out meekly.

He sighs, chest hardening and holds out a hand. You look at his palm and then back at him taking it.

“Let’s make some cocoa, yeah? Warm you up from the cold.”

You nod and he wipes your cheek. He looks at you and you drop your head, hair curtaining around you. You sniffle and hesitantly press yourself to his chest. He goes stiff before wrapping an arm around you. You wrap your arms around him, sniffling into his shirt.

“You’re ok. I promise, you’re ok.”

You clutch at his shirt and sob. He tightens his hold on you and he kisses the top of your head. He goes to pull back and you stay plastered to his chest. He pets a hand along your hair and you look up at him.

“It’s ok.” He whispers, softer than a mouse.

You nod and sniffle.

“Ok, how about that cocoa?”

You nod and he keeps you at his chest, walking to the kitchen. He leaves you by the stove and grabs a large pot, opening his fridge to get milk.

He pours it into the pot and starts the stove.

“You can use a microwave.” You whisper, looking up at him, “rich people do use microwaves, right?”

He chuckles with a smile, setting the flame’s level to a 4. He reaches around you and grabs a box of chocolate discs. “Not for this one, princess. You’ve gotta let the chocolate bars melt down into the milk.

You watch, curiously as he opens the box of Abuelita’s and turns it to you. You reach in and grab one. A yellow-foil wrapped chocolate disc. You turn it over in your palm and see the logo, a gray-haired grandmother tipping a steaming cup towards her. Ransom waves you a little closer and stands behind you.

“Alright, unwrap it and drop it in.” He rumbles into your ear, hands at your waist. His voice sends shivers down your spine. You unwrap the yellow paper like foil and slowly drop the disc in. Milk springs up and hits your chin. You whine and move your head back. Ransom laughs and wipes your cheek clean, sucking the droplet off his thumb.

You turn to him and he looks at you. His eyes fall down to your lips and yours do the same. He leans in and you rise up on your toes to kiss him. He brings an arm around your waist and holds you to him. You bring a hand into his hair, the other on his chest.

He slides a hand down your ass and slips it under your shorts. You whimper and involuntarily rock into his hips. Ransom groans and licks into your mouth. You whimper, knees coming together as your legs wobble. You twist against him as he slides a thick finger into you and you cry out.

You try to move away from his hand and he shushes you. You shake in his hold, swatting a hand against his arm and he drops his grip on you. You fall to the floor, on your ass and wince up at him.

He stands there, above you, rock hard in his pants, tenting them, with his hands on his hips.

“Well, what is it now?”

“It hurts. Or did you forget that you raped me a second time?”

“Oh like you weren’t creaming around my dick. Soaking the fucking seat.”

He tuts and shakes his head. You draw your legs together, hissing softly. He scoffs and leans down to be in your face.

“You called me. Not the other way around.”

“Because I was scared!” You spit out, brows furrowed. He shakes his head with a roll of his eyes. “I didn’t know what else to do. I, now, realize it was a mistake.”

He steps in front of you. “Oh yeah? What would’ve you done? Try to fight him off?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time I’d have to!” You yell, eyes glossy. You huff and stand. You wobble over to your bag and pull out your phone. He watches you, hands on his hips.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Leaving.”

“Really? And where are you going to go?” He bites, coming to stand in front of you. You take a step back and push at his chest when he tries to grab your phone. “You’ve got nothing. No family. No friends. No one.”

You order the car and sit on the couch. He rubs at his forehead and paces around the foyer. Your phone rings telling you, you’re drivers outside. You leave the phone on his coffee table, shrugging off his coat and handing it to him.

He looks at you and takes it. You press your lips into a line and grab your keys. You walk to the door and he calls you. “Your bag.”

“Keep it. I’d rather not have anything of yours.”

He sighs and grabs your phone. “Just take it, you’ll need to call your friend.”

“I’ll use a payphone.”

“Don’t be stubborn. Take it.”

You grab it from his hand and walk down the steps to the Uber.

“Wait.” He calls out, going to his car and fishing out your crate of memoirs. He walks over to the Uber and hands them to you.

You turn away from him, reluctantly taking the crate. He walks back up to his front door.

He watches you and his chest lurches, churning until he feels bile rise up in his throat. He curses, slamming the door shut the second you’re far enough.

He groans, pacing around the first floor. He goes to the kitchen and turns off the stove. Pouring out the cocoa into the sink. He drops the pot and lets it jitter through the metal sink and walks upstairs.

He goes to his bedroom, dropping the coat on the bed and starts up a warm shower. He strips down and steps under the showerhead.

He lets the water cascade over his body, loosening his muscles and takes a deep breath. He closes his eyes and tips his head up. If he thinks really hard, he can remember how you looked at him that first night. When he’d finished using you, you were perched on his chest.

You were tired, limp, hiccuping every so often as you quietly cried yourself to sleep. He remembers how warm you were on top of him. He remembers the way you flinched when he touched you. He remembers the way you looked up at him. He remembers the silent pain running around in your eyes.

He tips his head down, opening his eyes and sighs. He washes his hair and body. He turns off the shower, wrapping a towel low on his hips and stares at himself in the mirror.

He looks down at his knuckles. The once broken skin healing over. He balls his hands into fists and looks at them. He can still feel your touch on his hands, the way you carefully cleaned his wounds.

He realizes you’d be an amazing mother. He can picture it already, you kissing your son’s forehead as you clean his bleeding knees. Placing a cartoon Band-Aid on the boy’s knee.

He smiles at his hands and shakes his head.

After shaving, he puts on a pair of briefs with a pair of sweats and goes to bed. For the second day in a row, he stares at the stars through his skylight. He closes his eyes and hopes that wherever you are, you’re safe.

—

He doesn’t see you again for the rest of the term, after that. 7 weeks pass, when he meets you in a Trader Joe’s. You’re leaning forward, looking at tomatoes and he swears he could fuck you right there. You’re wearing a tiny little black pencil skirt and a button up shirt.

His shirt.

He steps around the store coming to your side and grabbing a tomato. You turn to him, eyes wide and take in a breath. Your eyes go a little lidded at the scent of his cologne and he smiles at himself, at the fact he’s got that much power over you.

He watches as your shoulders slump a little and he notices your coat, and the patchwork at it's left shoulder.

“Hi.” He says.

“Hi.” You whisper. You put the tomato into your basket and he huffs. He reaches over and grabs a produce bag. He hands it to you and you take it from him.

You open your mouth and shut it again, putting the tomato into the bag and tying it. He looks in your basket and raises an eyebrow.

“Making pasta?”

“Um, yeah. Celebrating—I guess.”

Ransom looks at you and nods, he takes a step closer and you’re now standing chest-to-chest.  Your breathing picks up and he tilts his head innocently. You open your mouth again, going to speak until a voice calls your name. You take a step back, turning to look over your shoulder.

A brunette man comes waltzing over, a bottle of wine in his hands. “I got it, Dom Perigon.” He stands behind you, slotting the bottle into your basket. He looks at Ransom, eyes going a little cold. “Who’s this?”

“Oh, Nick, this is Ransom.” You gesture to Ransom. “He was—”

“We used to be…friends.” Ransom says, looking at you. You nod and tuck your hair behind an ear, looking at Nick. He gives a nod and holds out a hand, “Good to meet you.”

Ransom nods and looks at Nick's hand, not shaking it before he looks at you. Nick drops his hand, jaw tight.

“Well, we’ve better get going.” You say, looping your arm with Nick’s and walking to the register. Ransom watches, breath caught in his throat as his stomach drops. Nick leans over and kisses you, hauling you to his chest, hand at your waist, it’s a soft, possessive movement.

Ransom leaves his basket where it is and walks out of the store. He pulls out his phone and makes a call. The picks up after the second ring.

“I need a favor.”

Nick Vaughn.

Boston University graduate, 4.8 GPA. Over 150 credits under his belt, having taken college classes since freshman year of highschool.

Father, a lawyer who graduated from Harvard. Mother, a nurse who graduated from Penn State.

He’s cookie cutter. Perfect. Someone your family would approve of. A respectful man, kind, warm hearted; gentle. A man of well earned money. Not billions from blood.

The worst part is he’s dating you.

Damn it.

Kinktober - Steve Rogers NSFW Alphabet

A letter a day… A to Z. This is my kinktober series where I plan to post a Drabble per day based on the NSFW alphabet. Some letters will run longer than others, as I have a liberal view of what counts as a Drabble. Buckle up and enjoy.

Warnings: The following series is smut, explicit content, NSFW, strictly 18+, minors do not interact

Day 1 - A is for aftercare

Day 2 - B is for body

Day 3 - C is for cum

Day 4 - D is for dirty secret

Day 5 - E is for experience

Day 6 - F is for favorite position

Day 7 - G is for goofy

Day 8 - H is for hair

Day 9 - I is for intimate

Day 10 - J is for jacking off

Day 11 - K is for kinks

Day 12 - L is for location

Day 13 - M is for motivation

Day 14 - N is for “No”

Day 15 - O is for oral

Day 16 - P is for pace

Day 17 - Q is for quickie

Day 18 - R is for risk

Day 19 - S is for stamina

Day 20 - T is for toys

Day 21 - U is for unfair

Day 22 - V is for volume

Day 23 - W is for wild card

Day 24 - X is for X-Ray

Day 25 - Y is for yearning

Day 26 - Z is for Zzz…

Desperate Measures - Steve Rogers Version

Summary: When an agent is affected by sex pollen and needs assistance, just how helpful will Steve be?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x f!reader

Words: 8.6k (longest fic I’ve ever written!)

Warnings: Smut (lots and lots, seriously), bad language, sort of dub-con due to sex pollen, bit of mutual pining, fluff and romance, definitely NSFW / 18+ only

A/N: This is the porn-with-plot companion fic to Desperate Times. Both can be read as stand-alone stories but can also be read together.

There are two versions of each story so the reader can choose their favourite - Steve or Thor (basic plot and opening text is the same but the rest is totally different). The Thor version can be found here.

All feedback and comments gratefully received. Masterlist is on my bio header.

*****

“Let me out of here. It hurts so much, I just wanna be touched.” You desperately banged a fist on the window of the med-bay quarantine room to get someone to take notice.

Not that that was a problem - the sight of your body, sweat-slicked and naked, pressed against the glass ensured that you had the undivided attention of most of the onlookers on the other side. No, the problem was getting them to give you what you needed. All they did was tell you to relax, that you weren’t in control to know what you were saying, that you would be better alone ‘for your own protection’. Idiots.

“Shouldn’t be watching this. Should not be watching this,” Sam muttered guiltily, trying and failing to find something else to focus on as your fingers slid between your legs in search of relief.

Tony’s eyes never wavered. “Speak for yourself, Birdman, I’m just catching up on what I missed during the flight back.”

Behind them, Steve was attempting to ignore the lewd distractions as he discussed options for treatment with Dr Cho. Easier said than done when the woman he’d been dreaming about for weeks was naked and being ogled by his friends. “OK, that’s the last of the blood samples that Bruce needs to work on the antidote. So what do we do with her in the meantime?” Seeing Thor about to speak, Steve pre-empted him. “Yes, you’ve made it perfectly clear what you’d do with her but that’s not gonna happen.”

Helen Cho’s cheeks warmed at the thought, but she managed to keep her composure. “We won’t have a treatment available for a good while yet and this will take hours to leave her system. I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do except make her as comfortable in her own room as possible and let her work through it in private.”

Steve nodded. “The sooner the better. Let’s move her the same way she got her here. She won’t walk so I’ll carry her.”

There was a cacophony of protests, forcing Sam to raise his voice to be heard above the objections of the others. “Oh sure, Cap, and get another good groping from the naked, sex-crazed hottie while you do. No way, you don’t get to have all the fun.”

“Fine. So none of us can carry her on our own from now on.” Steve held up his hands in defeat, hoping that his disappointment wasn’t too obvious. “What other options do we have? She’s not going to just sit quietly on a gurney to be wheeled down there, anyone who gets close is gonna become her new plaything.”

Thor was still bitter that he’d not been the one to carry you from the jet. “That has never been a problem as far as I’m concerned.”

“Pretending I didn’t hear that,” muttered Helen under her breath. “Could you put her in restraints?”

Hearing the mention of restraints through the glass, you shouted eagerly from your medically-imposed prison. “Yes! Tie me down and fuck me any way you like. Please, I want you to.”

“So that’s one vote in favour of bondage.” The gleeful look on Tony’s face indicated there might actually be two votes. “Any other suggestions?”

*****

In the end, the only solution had been to carry you between them, spreadeagled with the team supporting one limb each. Frustratingly, being man-handled into your bedroom by a team of superhunks sounded a hell of a lot more fun than it actually was. There had been strong hands gripping your body but none of them where you so desperately wanted to be touched, no matter how much you begged and struggled. All attempts to get you dressed, even in underwear, had failed so a sheet had been draped over you, more for their sanity than anything else since there was no point in trying to protect your modesty by now. Wriggling fruitlessly and still pleading for sex, you only caught snippets of the conversations going on around you.

“It isn’t right to leave her alone, she’s asking for help ...”

“... can’t take advantage while she’s under the effects of this Hydra drug.”

“Careful, don’t let her get hold of you. Hold her legs wider apart ...”

“For the love of God, would you stop saying things like that!”

When they’d finally reached your room, you’d tried to beg one last time for someone to stay - for him to stay - but the words had got muddled as another powerful wave of lust had hit. Still, the fact you’d tried to climb Steve like a tree repeatedly and kept having to be dragged off before they could leave should have given them a damn clue.

As they’d finally managed to lay you down on the bed, still making desperate grabby hands at anybody in reach, his eyes had met yours and you’d seen the aching desire you felt reflected, his pupils blown wide. For one glorious moment, it had seemed like he would ignore the advice and stay with you, but Dr Cho had firmly ushered them out. And then you were trapped - alone, in pain and hornier than you ever thought possible.

And now, many unsatisfying climaxes later, you were slumped on the floor of the shower, cool water raining down and mingling with the tears that streaked your face, hardly caring about the cool droplets as they landed on your burning hot body. It wasn’t worth trying to use your toys any more, and even if you had the energy just the thought of hearing the buzz of a vibrator made your head ache. Your skin felt itchy, too tight, like an exposed nerve and nothing you did was enough to give respite. Nothing existed at that moment except the agonising need for sexual relief.

“... wanna come ... ah it hurts ... need to fuck ... please ...”

You barely noticed the sound of Helen’s voice echoing over the comms. Unable to focus on what she was asking through the haze of pain and lust, you kept on mumbling the words like a mantra. You knew it wouldn’t matter anyway - they’d made it extremely clear that no one was going to help you.

Slowly though, the doctor’s voice started to register until a few sentences caught your attention. “You just need to choose - Steve or Thor? Do you want either of them to join you?”

Oh hell yes. Either would be a wet dream come true but you wanted Steve more than anything, had wanted to get close to him for so long. “Yes, ugh yes ... please ... want him so bad .... that ass … those muscles ... oh oh god ... huge arms ... wanna lick ‘em ...”

Helen’s comments faded into the background as thoughts of him filled your mind. Memories of a sparring session a few weeks earlier. Strong hands sliding round your waist, gripping your hips tightly as he manoeuvred your body into an attacking stance. His warm breath tickling your neck as he pressed you against the wall, overwhelming you with his sheer power. Oh, the things you wanted to do to that man. “... looks so fucking good in that blue suit ... wanted to rip it off him ...”

As the memory played out in your head, another bout of desire hit your already-aroused body and the need to be touched overwhelmed everything else. Your eyes closed, losing yourself in your fantasy as your fingers moved lower. “Want his face between my thighs ... those blue eyes looking up at me ... fingers buried, stroking so deep. Tangling my fingers in that beautiful blonde hair ... tongue flicking across my clit ... over and over ... oh fuck ... yes yes ... ” Your voice broke into a shuddering moan as you came, pain numbed by the temporary bliss of release.

A question over the comms pulled you out of your post-orgasmic daze and back to reality. “Who are you talking about?”

Concentrate. You tried one more time to explain what you needed, the extra flood of endorphins helping to clear your mind just enough for you to focus. “Want him pressing me into the bed ... inside me, filling me ... fucking me hard ... so hard ... Steve ...”

As you spoke his name, there was a commotion over comms and the sound abruptly clicked off, giving no indication whether your words had got through or not. Letting out a frustrated sob you stumbled to your feet, barely remembering to turn the shower off, and staggered from the bathroom in the direction of the door, leaving a trail of damp footprints in your wake. Enough was enough. If they hadn’t got the message by now, you’d find a way to escape this goddamn place.

When you reached the door though, there was the unmistakable thud of heavy footsteps in the corridor outside followed by a growl of “Open it or I’ll smash it down” that made your pulse quicken.

As the door slid open you were face to face with a half-naked super-soldier. The top half of his stealth suit was hanging off, the straps and buckles undone or abandoned along the way in his eagerness to reach you and the sight of such muscled perfection was almost more than you could bear. On instinct, your hands shot forward to grab his belt, dragging him into the room. The door hadn’t even swooshed shut again before your bodies moulded together.

Steve’s mind barely registered how he had ended up here, logic and sense momentarily lost to his overwhelming need to taste you, feel you, claim you. Mouths searching for each other hungrily, exploring every available inch of bare flesh in a frantic tangle of limbs as raw passion consumed you both in a fiery blaze. The heat radiating from your feverish body as his hands slid over your skin was a sharp reminder of his current mission though.

Sliding an arm around your waist he manoeuvred you towards the large wooden table at the side of the room, reluctantly breaking contact with your lips and drawing back as he seated you on the edge of it. “I’m here to help you, is that okay?”

You were grabbing at his arms, desperate for his touch. “Yes, god yes, it hurts so much. Want you so bad.”

“You’re sure?” Despite the careful tone of his words, there was no disguising the unbridled lust in his eyes, or the way his gaze travelled over your naked form. His self-control was just barely hanging by a thread.

“I need to come. Make me come.”

Your whimpered plea was all it took for him to comply and with a growl, he surged forwards, powerless to resist. His only thoughts devoted to you and the desire to taste every inch of your body. Eager hands pawed at your breasts, your thighs, your ass, kneading the tender flesh roughly while he travelled along your throat, tongue laving at the delicate skin. Each touch drawing breathless gasps and moans that drove him wild. Dropping his head lower, his lips slid across your collarbone and down the swell of your chest, leaving a glistening trail of open-mouthed kisses in their wake.

In your heightened state of arousal, every sensation was electric, sending a jolt of desire to your core. A single wet flick across your nipple had you trembling, fingers tangling in his hair in the search for the extra stimulation you craved. Two slow circles around your areola, warm breath fanning across the wet skin, and the anticipation was almost unbearable. Three pecked kisses to the pebbled bud and you could barely breathe. Then his mouth closed over the peak and all rational thought was lost, your mind and body succumbing to intense bliss.

Steve sucked hard, pressing a hand to your lower back to keep you close as you arched against him with a wail. Damn you were addictive, every cry you made had his cock straining against the confines of his uniform. He was already fully erect and desperate to be touched, at this rate he knew he wouldn’t last long. Forcing himself to slow down, he relaxed his lips to give softer, rhythmic tugs at your nipple before returning to lap at your flesh, circling with the flat of his tongue whilst his hand slid lower.

You barely noticed the motion of his fingers along your stomach, too focussed on the intense pulses of arousal at your breast. There was no ignoring it though when his hand edged nearer to your soaked core, fingertips brushing your inner thigh and moving upwards, so close to where you needed him most. Tantalising caresses over your labia, perfect and yet nowhere near enough. Desperate for more, you clung to him, hips jerking upwards into his touch as his fingers stroked through the slick arousal pooled between your thighs and finally found your swollen clitoris.

Releasing your nipple from his hot mouth, he pressed a last kiss to the overstimulated bud and turned his attention to your other breast, squeezing and licking the soft flesh. “It’s okay, sweetheart, I got you.”

His fingers rubbed gentle circles to spread your wetness, swiftly building the speed and intensity as your moans increased in volume until he knew you must be close. Moving his thumb to tap lightly on your pearl, he slid two fingers into your dripping core, loving how your silken heat pulsed greedily around them. Plunging deep, stroking and probing. His hot mouth continued its assault on your breast whilst his long fingers curled and searched for the precise spot that made your legs quiver and your eyes roll back in your head. As he stroked your inner walls, he took your nipple between his teeth, nipping firmly, and that was what pushed you over the edge into oblivion. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over you, collapsing against him with a shuddered cry.

You were in heaven and Steve was right there with you. Seeing your raptured expression, feeling the tremors wracking your body, hearing your whimpers had him achingly hard and leaking in his pants. Still, he wanted to give you more, wanted to make you fall apart again before he gave in to his own needs. While your core still pulsed around his fingers he laid you back on the table and knelt between your legs.

Too far gone, you didn’t even register the cold surface against your heated skin or the way that he ducked to support your thighs on his shoulders. It was impossible to ignore, though, when his thumb was replaced by the wet swirl of his wicked tongue around your clitoris. “St… Steve! Oh my god.”

Before you had a chance to react further, a large hand splayed across your pelvis to pin you down and stop you from squirming away. He looked up at you briefly from between your thighs, pupils blown so wide that the blue was barely visible. “Relax.” Then he dipped his head back down to devour you.

His tongue lapped hungrily, flicking across your sensitive nub over and over. Sucking at your tender flesh whilst his fingers pushed in once more to press and tap against your g-spot. He was insatiable, focussed on giving you another orgasm whilst your mind and body were still reeling from the first. Every lick earned him another desperate moan that drove him crazy. The urge to taste more of you was all-consuming and he withdrew his fingers from your dripping slit and plunged his tongue inside.

You were helpless as hands grasped your ass to keep his face firmly buried in your pussy. There was no respite from the sweet torment and you willingly surrendered yourself to him. Lost to everything but the pleasure he gave you, unable to form words beyond his name. The aching need for release surged through you again as pressure built in your core, the aphrodisiac chemicals in your body and Steve’s tongue quickly taking you to the razor-edge of another climax. Your back arched off the table, fingers scrabbling at the smooth surface for something, anything to hold onto as Steve ate you out like a man possessed.

He probed and thrust in your entrance, eagerly lapping up your juices before licking along your slit with the flat of his tongue, revelling in your helpless moans and whimpers. Alternating between featherlight flicks and strong powerful strokes as he learnt your body’s secrets. Finally, when your trembling thighs clenched tighter around his head to signal you were close, his lips enclosed your throbbing clit and one last hard suckle was all he needed to make you come undone. Groaning in satisfaction as your release gushed into his mouth and you writhed in pleasure against his face, he continued to press gentle kisses to your pulsing core, only stopping when your hand pushed desperately at his forehead.

You squirmed away from him, past the point of overstimulation. “No… stop… too sensitive…”

“Uh, sorry.” The lascivious swirl of his tongue across his lower lip as he moved back from your soaked pussy indicated that he was anything but sorry. The sight of you spread open before him had his cock throbbing, the uniform pants now painfully tight. He swiftly shed his remaining clothing, hissing at the feel of cool air on his engorged flesh.

With your senses rapidly returning, you sat up to observe him. There was so much to admire but your eyes were drawn inexorably to the long, thick cock that bobbed against his stomach, head swollen red and slick with precum.

Your hand reached of its own accord, unable to resist. Slowly, you trailed a delicate fingertip along the prominent throbbing vein along the underside, fascinated by each twitch under your touch. Then you wrapped your fingers around him, loving the feel of it molten-hot and heavy in your palm.

He could barely breathe. All those times he’d imagined this moment and yet his wildest dreams paled in comparison to the reality. So many nights he’d lain in bed imagining it was your soft little hand around his cock instead of his own fist, chasing his release with images of you filling his mind. Every stroke was paradise and his hips jerked forward to push further into your hand. A sudden swirl of your thumb, smearing glistening pre-spend around the swollen head, had him throbbing dangerously though and he reluctantly pulled out of your grip with a shuddered gasp.

He had to be inside you and feel your perfect slick warmth snug around his cock. Pulling your thighs apart with your ass perched on the edge of the table, he stepped closer until his weeping tip grazed your entrance, pausing despite the desperate need coursing through his veins. “I have to hear you say it.”

You almost sobbed with need as you lay back onto the table. “Yes, please yes.”

“I need more, baby. Tell me you want me to do this.”

And then you spoke the words he’d fantasised about for so many weeks.

“Fuck me, Steve.”

He’d always sworn he would take things gently at first, easing slowly into your tight cove, making love to you with languid rolls of his hips as he whispered words of devotion. But with your sweet taste still lingering on his tongue and your lush body in front of him, begging to be taken, raw desire took over. No thoughts in his mind other than one - to fuck your goddamn brains out.

With a growl, he hooked a forearm under your knee to spread you wider and thrust forward sharply to bury himself to the hilt in your eager pussy. Even though you were more than ready for him it was a stretch, your core fluttered wildly as he filled you completely. A brief sting of pain before the pleasure overwhelmed your senses, your cries echoed with his low groan of pure wanton relief. The clench of your velvet-soft heat around him had his cock throbbing and he was harder than he ever thought possible.

The needy grip of your slick walls as he pulled back was overwhelming and his hips jerked forward again to slide back into you, powerless to resist his base need for friction. With a grunt of satisfaction, he paused for a moment once he was sheathed fully, chest heaving with the effort of holding back. Then he let loose. He set a punishing rhythm, fucking you hard and fast. Fingers gripped your waist, deep enough to leave bruises, as he pulled and pushed you onto his cock like a man possessed, determined to have you screaming his name so the entire building would know who you belonged to.

The lewd slap of skin against skin filled the air, punctuated with breathy moans and cries as you both spiralled towards climax. He pounded into you relentlessly, his heavy sac slapping against your ass with every stroke, knocking the breath from your lungs and making your breasts bounce with each powerful press of his hips. Even with your legs wrapped tight around his waist, every hard thrust sent you sliding back and forth across the tabletop. Steve was an erotic fantasy, muscles flexing with the exertion, sweat running down his chest in rivulets. Watching him splitting you open on his massive cock was overwhelming, every nerve in your body burning white-hot with desire and you had to touch.

Seeing your desperate grabby hands, he leant forward to wrap an arm round you and pull you upright, burying his face in the crook of your neck as you clung to him. An inhale of your scent, heady and sweet, then his mouth attacked your skin, sucking and nipping to mark you as his.

Snaking a hand between your bodies, the pad of his thumb found your swollen bundle of nerves and pressed firmly. It was the last straw and you came with a shuddered wail, fingernails raking along his back as the tight coil of pleasure in your core unravelled.

His thrusts grew sloppier, more frantic as your inner walls pulsed around him, desperately chasing his own high until he came with a roar, flooding your sex. Pleasure crashed over him like a tidal wave, stealing the breath from his lungs. He stayed inside you, riding out his orgasm as you lay quivering against his chest, gasping and utterly spent. Clasping you tight in his arms to prolong the pleasure, wishing this moment could last forever. Only when the aftershocks had subsided did he reluctantly relax his hold.

With the pain from the chemicals subdued by the endorphins flooding your system, you were hardly aware of him grabbing cloths to clean you up and wipe away the sweat from your exertions. Loose-limbed and sated, you snuggled against his broad chest as he tenderly scooped you up and carried you into the bedroom. He aimed to set you down on the bed but that presented a problem. The sad reminders of your lonely struggle against the aphrodisiac controlling your body littered the tangled sheets. A bewildering array of vibes, dildos, and other things he didn’t recognise but was very interested to learn more about later if you’d allow it.

Cradling your limp frame against him with one arm, he swept the toys aside to make room, trying not to get distracted by the tantalising thought of watching you pleasuring yourself with each of them. Once there was space he laid you down carefully, placing his hand on your forehead for a few seconds to check your temperature before straightening up.

Already missing his touch, your eyes flickered open in alarm. “No, don’t leave me.”

“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart, just grabbing some water for you.” He bent to place a chaste kiss on your forehead. “Relax.”

Water wasn’t uppermost in your mind as you watched him stride across the room, but you were most definitely feeling thirstier by the minute. Up til now, you’d been too distracted, too lust-drunk to properly admire him in all his naked glory but now you were lucid enough to appreciate his breathtaking masculine beauty. Thick cock swinging between muscled thighs, broad shoulders tapering to those slim hips and oh that butt. You had a front-row seat to admire the pert rounded bounce of America’s Ass, and your fingers itched to squeeze and grab. Or maybe spank.

The sight of him returning to sit next to you on the bed only served to increase your lust. You didn’t know if it was a lingering effect of the sex pollen or your natural sexual attraction to him, but your libido wasn’t showing any sign of slowing. Taking a bottle from him, you hoped it would slake one thirst at least. “Thanks.” You took a long gulp of the cool liquid and closed your eyes, sighing gratefully at the refreshing chill.

This time it was his turn to stare, drink paused part way to his lips as he watched a few stray droplets of condensation drip from your bottle onto your breast. Leaving a shining trail on your skin that was just made for him to trace with his tongue if you were willing. And given the way you’d been ogling his ass, he was optimistic about his chances. Setting his drink aside, he scooted towards you, thumb drawing soft circles on your hip. “So, um, how are you feeling now?”

Even this gentle touch had heat pooling between your thighs and you wanted so much more. Sadly, the dull ache of chafed skin and sore muscles was a reminder that you were only human. “Honestly? I’m still horny as hell—” You’d hardly gotten the words out before he pounced, and in a heartbeat he was flat on his back with you straddling him, hands fondling your backside. “—but I’m gonna need a little time-out.”

He paused immediately, his face a perfect mixture of disappointment and concern. ”Shit, I didn’t think, are you in pain or …”

You silenced him with a kiss. “Hush, I’m fine. Just take it slow, I’m not used to being fucked senseless by a well-endowed super-soldier.”

The sudden flush of colour on his cheeks might have been the most adorable thing you’d ever seen. How could you not love a man who could take control of your body to give you three of the best orgasms of your life, a man who currently had you spread bare on top of him, and yet he blushed like a shy schoolboy at a compliment? He was utterly perfect and you were powerless to resist.

Your hand slid to the back of his neck, leaning closer and his mouth closed over yours, tentative at first but with increasing hunger. All aches and pains were forgotten, consumed by the desire that blazed hot once more. Right now, you didn’t know if it was the residual effects of the sex pollen or simply natural body chemistry that made you thirst for him, all you knew is that you wanted him.

He let out a soft appreciative moan as your lips left a wet line of kisses on his collarbone and across his chest. As you shuffled lower down his body though, he realised what your intentions were. The mere thought of having your mouth on his cock made his balls tighten, but still he protested weakly. “No, you’re tired. You don't have to do this, we can wait.”

“But I want to.” Your lips continued to press open-mouthed kisses on their slow journey down his torso. “Just relax, let me taste you.”

The gasped curse and the grind of his pelvis against you left no doubt that he wanted that too as he settled back on the pillows with a sigh. His cock was hardening rapidly, twitching between your bare breasts as you worked your way down unhurriedly. Your mouth moved slowly over his body, tracing the defined contours of his chest and the line of faint golden hairs leading down from his navel until you reached your target.

Big. Thick. Hot. All yours.

His cock was already leaking shimmering beads of pre-cum, and you used your thumb to smear it around his reddened tip and over the sensitive ridge under the head. Each glide of your thumb encouraged a groan from him, gaining in intensity with each circle you drew until you knew he couldn’t take much more teasing. Still, you had to have a taste. The tip of your tongue flicked across his frenulum, just grazing the skin. Greedily, you licked a long, slow stripe along the underside of his cock from root to tip with the flat of your tongue, tracing the thick vein that throbbed angrily, and the noise he made was barely human.

Having him surrender to you like this was turning you on more than you ever thought possible. Reaching between your legs, you pressed the heel of your hand to your clit to briefly relieve the ache while your fingers dipped into your slit, coating them in a slick mixture of your arousal and his cum.

Withdrawing your hand from your core, you wrapped it firmly around his base and gave a few experimental pumps that had him thrusting into your grip. Using your juices to slide along his shaft in easy strokes you worked him up and down, lapping eagerly at his swollen tip. Guided by his moans, you adjusted speed and intensity, setting a steady rhythm.

It didn’t take long before he was rock-hard, hot and heavy in your hand, pre-spend dripping copiously down his shaft and over your fingers. Still pumping his shaft, you dipped your head lower to tongue at his sac. Circling and teasing, sucking one into your mouth and tugging lightly until his hips were bucking up uncontrollably and he was openly begging for release. Finally, you took him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around him as you slowly worked your lips along his shaft. Sucking him greedily, deeper with each bob of your head, stretching your jaw wide, drool dripping from your chin.

The perfect wet suction of your lips around his cock drew helpless whines from him. His chest heaved, eyes squeezed shut, hands gripping the pillow tightly above his head, desperately trying to delay his rapidly approaching climax. Your mouth felt so damn good and he knew he couldn’t hold on much longer.

“Argh yes … no, wait … gonna come.”

Releasing his cock from your mouth briefly, you gave him a quizzical look. “I thought that was the idea?”

“Yeah … but I … don’t want to assume … do you want … “ He was struggling to form a coherent sentence as your hand continued to stroke him lazily. “Should I pull out?”

God, you loved the filthy innocence of this man. Rather than answering, you took the direct approach. Without breaking eye contact, you wrapped your lips around him and swallowed him almost to the hilt.

“Ohfuckohgod, you’re amazing.” The combination of you looking up at him through your lashes and the sight of his cock sliding into your beautiful mouth was pure pornography. His hands fisted in your hair, unconsciously jerking his hips up, forcing you to stretch your lips even wider.

He was so big, too big, but you were determined to take all of him. With a choked moan, you sucked him deeper until he hit the back of your throat and felt his entire body tense below you. He groaned brokenly, eyes rolling back in his head as hot ropes of cum spurted down your throat.

You held him deep in your mouth until his release ended, savouring the earthy tang of him, before slowly withdrawing, taking him to the edge of overstimulation with gentle suction as he pulsed weakly against your tongue. Once he was thoroughly spent, you crawled back up his body to cuddle with your head on his shoulder, your thumb tracing small circles on his chest while his heart rate slowly returned to normal.

Letting out a shaky breath, he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “That was incredible.”

“My pleasure,” you purred, with more than a hint of pride knowing you had the power to reduce this huge man to a whimpering wreck. “Happy to do it any time.”

“Maybe later.” In one fluid motion, he grabbed one of the vibrators from the edge of the bed and rolled you underneath him, pinning you to the bed. “But right now, it’s my turn again.”

*****

You’d lost count of orgasms long ago, and life could not have been any more perfect. Sitting between his legs with your head resting on his chest and his arms resting gently around your middle, you were snug and happy and thoroughly spent.

He pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Your skin feels cooler, sweetheart, I think that’s a good sign. Do you feel like you’re out of danger now?”

Oh yeah, the sex pollen. If you were being honest, you’d forgotten all about it at this point and you did a quick self-inventory. A little tired but the fog of confusion had lifted, and no more muscle cramps or fever. Definitely still horny as hell but you were inclined to think it had nothing to do with Hydra chemicals now and everything to do with the fact that a super-powered sex machine was in your bed.

“No actual pain any more. I mean, I’m quite sore in places but in a good way. Feels like the chemicals are finally out of my system.” As the words left your mouth you were suddenly acutely aware of the implications. If the effects of the pollen were gone, maybe this adventure had to end. Worse, there was the possibility that you were lying naked with someone who was only here out of a sense of duty with no real feelings for you. Someone that was way, way out of your league.

Self-consciously you shuffled out of Steve’s embrace, avoiding his attempts to pull you close again. “I’m gonna get a shower and clean myself up a bit.”

“Sounds like a plan, how about I join you?”

“No don’t bother, I can manage by myself,” you blurted out, grabbing a shirt to hide from view on your way to the bathroom. Glancing back from the doorway though, you saw his eager smile fade at the unexpected harshness of your tone and relented. “Sorry, didn’t mean to snap. It’s just been a really weird day.”

He nodded in agreement. “Can’t argue with that. Writing the post-mission update for Fury is gonna be really interesting.”

“The first X-rated Captain America mission report. It’ll be tough to take you seriously when you use the word ‘debriefing’ after this.” The feeble joke was enough to break the sudden tension and get a chuckle out of him, but insecurity was nagging at you. “Steve, can I ask you something?”

“Sure, what is it?”

“I just wondered why you—” Your voice trailed off, courage deserting you as his earnest gaze met yours. How could you ever hope that this beautiful man would see this as anything more than sex? You were just another mission, another problem to solve. Better to keep quiet and hang on to your deluded fantasies of mutual attraction a little longer than to hear how this was simply him helping out a colleague. “Never mind, it’s not important. Forget it, I’m still a little loopy from the chemicals.”

Before he could respond, the bathroom door had closed behind you and he was left alone. The silence was quickly replaced by the steady pitter-patter of the shower and Steve lay back, pondering over your unfinished question and the events of the day. A day that had been run-of-the-mill at first, a normal mission investigating an enemy base until there’d been the message that he feared the most - you’d been hurt. He’d raced to get to you, heart thudding painfully in his chest, recklessly taking out anyone that got in his way. Terrified he’d lost you before you were even his.

Now he was here, in the bed of the woman he’d yearned for, and yet you weren’t truly his. He’d fucked you hard and fast, made love to you slow and gentle, explored and tasted every inch of your body, seen you fall apart in bliss because of him. It was everything he’d dreamt about … but only because of the damn sex pollen. You’d chosen him when asked though, that at least gave him hope that you might actually return his feelings. He had to tell you how he felt and pray that you felt the same.

With a new plan of action decided, the wait seemed interminable and he needed a few deep, calming breaths when he heard the water finally shut off. Shifting to sit on the edge of the bed closest to the vanity mirror he checked his reflection and ran a nervous hand through his hair to smarten it up as best he could, glancing at the door in anticipation of your reappearance. Several minutes later though, the door was still locked and it was worryingly quiet.

Your health was temporarily his main concern again. “Is everything okay in there? Do you need me to call the medics?”

“No, I’m fine. Be out in a minute,” you responded quickly. The last thing you wanted was for other people to turn up and send him away. Then again, hiding in the bathroom wasn’t much of a plan either. All you were doing was delaying the inevitable moment when he’d realise his obligation to you was over and you’d be alone again. Taking a final critical glance at your unruly damp hair, you sighed resignedly and reached for the door handle.

Despite the hours spent exploring your body, the sight of you still took Steve’s breath away. The fluffy towel wrapped snugly around your frame was barely big enough to protect your modesty and only served to emphasise the sweet curves and lines that he adored. Even better, the evidence of his efforts was clear - reddish-purple patches blooming on your neck and inner thighs - and the recollection of you writhing under him in bliss, moaning so sweetly whilst he made each mark, made his dick twitch and stiffen once more. God, you were a hell of a woman.

Taking your hand to pull you closer, your apparent reluctance took him by surprise and he released his hold. “How are you feeling now?”

“Just about normal again, no sex pollen symptoms any more.” Perching next to him, you pulled the towel tighter in a futile attempt to cover more skin. “Seems like your work here is done, Captain. Mission accomplished.”

His heart lurched painfully. “Is that all you think this was to me, just part of my job?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, you and I wouldn’t have gotten together otherwise would we?” You gave him a weak smile, figuring you owed him some honesty at least. “Just because I’ve spent months fantasising about you doesn’t mean that you feel the same. You’re a literal flawless superhuman and I’m just—”

He didn’t give you a chance to finish, surging forward to capture your lips in a passionate kiss that he hoped would leave you in no doubt as to how he felt. When he reluctantly pulled back you had barely moved, staring at him wide-eyed and breathless. Cradling your face in one hand, his thumb caressed your cheek softly as he leaned closer once more. “Sweetheart, don’t you realise how perfect you are? Don’t you see how hard you make me, I can hardly keep my hands off you.”

Your hand, still tightly clutching the towel closed across your chest, was enveloped by his but he made no move to undress you. Only when you relaxed your grip and gave him a small nod of assent did he slowly tug at the unwanted fabric and let it fall to the bed, exposing your body to him once more. Still you sat motionless, watching his face intently as his gaze travelled over your nakedness, reeling from the possibility that all this could be real.

“So. Goddamn. Gorgeous.” His tone was hushed, in awe of the goddess in front of him. Yet he could still see the doubt in your eyes. Maybe it’d take more than words to convince you? Not a problem. Steve was more than happy to show his dream girl just how sexy she was.

Slowly, reverentially, his fingertips stroked along your leg from knee to thigh, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Caressing the curve of your hip and over your abdomen. Palming the soft swell of your breasts with a tenderness that made you tremble with anticipation. Mapping your body with his touch as if it were something precious to be worshipped. Just when you thought you might combust, he took your hand in his, guiding you onto his lap so you were facing away from him. Strong arms enveloped you, pulling you close with your back resting flush on his chest and your eyes fluttered shut, savouring his warmth against your skin.

His mouth traced a line of rough kisses along your throat, tangling his fingers in your hair and pulling your head to one side gently to give him better access. Nibbling and sucking at your delicate skin and relishing the way your breath hitched when his lips grazed your pulse point. With a satisfied hum, he concentrated his efforts, nuzzling at that sensitive spot until you were squirming against him, pressing your thighs together to try to relieve the ache in your core. Licking along the shell of your ear, he murmured “Open your eyes, baby. See how beautiful you are.”

Doing as he asked, it took a moment for you to focus on the reflection in the mirror. Kiss-swollen lips, hair messy, skin mottled with love bites, you looked just as you’d expected - lust-drunk and thoroughly fucked. Not exactly your idea of beautiful, and instinctively you tried to turn away from the sight but Steve’s grip on your hair forced you to meet his gaze. His eyes were full of sinful adoration and in that moment you knew you would let this man do anything to you.

“Love touching you so fuckin’ much.” With a smile, he began to explore your body again, making sure you were watching every move he made. His hand fondled your breast, kneading gently, tweaking and tugging the hardened nipple between thumb and forefinger. “Look how you fit in my hands, like you were made just for me.”

His other hand slid down between your thighs, first brushing across your clit with one rough fingertip, then tapping and rubbing gently in teasing strokes that made your pussy clench with the need to be filled. Every pitchy little gasp you made sending blood surging to his cock so fast it made his head spin and he couldn’t wait. Dipping between your lower lips, he groaned deeply. “Shit, you’re so wet already.”

With your knees placed either side of his, it was easy to part your legs, his strong thighs holding you open. In that position, he had the glorious view of your juicy cunt swallowing his fingers so prettily. It was a filthy fantasy, but right now he’d much rather see you stretched around his girth instead, watch you taking him inch by inch. Adjusting position so he was nestled snug along your entrance, he exhaled a shaky breath at the wet friction. “Wanna be inside you so bad.”

“Good evening.” Dr Cho’s disembodied voice over the comms made you both jump. “I’m checking how you are - your vital signs seem to have returned to more or less normal.”

You were barely able to form a coherent sentence, dizzy with desire watching his rigid cock glide between your labia, shining slick with your arousal. “Oh god yes. Um, I mean … yeah I’m feeling good now, Helen.”

Steve hummed his agreement, warm breath fanning your skin as his teeth nipped at your earlobe. “You do feel so, so good. My good, sweet girl.”

Grasping your plush ass firmly, he lifted you just enough to line himself up with your core, pausing to savour the exquisite moment when the tip pushed into you once more. Then his pelvis jerked upwards and his groan of pleasure mingled with yours as he bottomed out inside you.

Dr Cho chose to ignore the lewd sound effects. “Everything alright in there?”

Everything was VERY alright. Your head lolled back onto Steve’s shoulder as he took you apart. Each powerful thrust seemed to force him deeper, filling your tender pussy to its limit until you were sure he would break you in two. Was it possible to die of pleasure? At this point, you didn’t care, death by Steve’s cock was a worthy way to go.

“It’s … fine … I’m … uhhhhh fuuuuck … fine,” you panted, the breath punched out of you with each sharp snap of his hips as he impaled you on his cock. His fingers dug into your soft flesh, firmly dragging you up and down his length as he spread his legs wider, forcing your thighs further apart. With you spread open wide for him, the change in angle was perfect to brush against your g-spot with every stroke and you bit your lip to try to muffle your moans.

Unfortunately, Helen just wouldn’t take the hint and let you focus on getting absolutely railed. “Maybe I need to run some more tests. You don’t seem to be very lucid.”

“You can stop worrying, Doc. I’m staying here to take real good care of her.” Steve paused his thrusts to growl a response, grinding up into you while a hand slid across to stroke your swollen, tender clit. His gaze was fixed on the mirror, determined to see you cum for him one more time. Hungrily watching the slick gush of arousal and pre-cum seeping from your cunt and dripping down his sac with each roll of his hips.

Across the compound in the med bay, Dr Cho was still doing her best to stay focussed. “Look, I realise you’re enjoying yourselves but it’s my job as chief medical officer to ...”

You’d had enough of conversation. “FRIDAY, block all comms.”

“But I have to ...”

Two voices spoke in unison. “Fuck off, Helen.”

*****

You woke feeling more rested than you had in a long while. Lying on your side, still half-asleep, you tried to stretch and realised with a start there was a heavy arm resting on top of you. A huge, warm body touching yours. Soft lips kissing your cheek.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” Steve’s voice was rough, still thick with sleep, and your libido was suddenly wide awake.

“Um, hi.” You kept your eyes closed, needing a few more seconds to mentally ready yourself for the sight that awaited you. “What time is it?”

“Nearly noon. I tried not to wake you, since you obviously needed your rest. And it gave me a chance to see how cute you looked when you’re asleep.”

Surprised by the flattery, you opened your eyes to a sight you could never tire of. Tousled golden hair framing his chiselled features, pale blue eyes gazing at you intently and his lips … oh those perfectly plump lips that were impossible to resist. Reaching over, you cupped the back of his neck and pulled him into a lingering kiss, trying to memorise the feel of his mouth on yours. “Thank you for … for everything.”

“My pleasure. I’m very happy that you chose me instead of Thor.” Happy didn’t begin to describe how he felt at this moment. Hearing his name fall from your lips as he’d taken you again and again through the night had been better than he’d ever imagined. And when he’d woken with you in his arms, so soft and peaceful snuggled against his chest, it was as though he’d finally found the missing piece of his heart after all these years. Stroking your cheek tenderly, he dared to finally hope you might feel the same. “When we get out of here, would you …”

Before he could finish his question though, the toe-curling reality of yesterday’s events hit you in a wave of embarrassment. “OH MY GOD, everyone saw me naked. And playing with myself. And begging for sex. Ugh.” Burying your face in his chest, you cringed at the memory. “Never going to be able to look anyone in the face ever again. I’ll have to change my name and move to another country. SHIELD can do that, right?”

He hugged you closer, softly kissing your forehead. “Don’t worry about it, baby, you did nothing wrong. Everyone knows it was the chemicals that were responsible for the way you acted.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right, no need to over-react. I’m sure I’ll get used to being known as Nympho Girl or whatever godawful nickname Tony comes up with.” The ominous silence made you realise that it might be even worse than you’d thought. “Oh fuck, he’d already thought of one hadn’t he?”

He couldn’t look you in the eye. “Agent Rampant Rabbit.”

“Noooooooo! Why did this have to happen to me? Please tell me there’s a drug to wipe everyone’s memories.”

“It’ll be okay, I promise. If Tony or anyone else teases you about this they’ll have to answer to me. I’ll happily kick some ass if they get out of line.” His lips curled into a sly grin. “Unless it’s Natasha obviously.”

You snorted, giving him a gentle nudge in the ribs with your elbow. “My hero.”

“Hey, I’m not dumb enough to pick a fight with her, not even for you.” He slid two fingers under your chin and gently tilted your face towards his. “Seriously, don’t worry. No matter what happens outside this room, we can deal with it together.”

Together. A simple word that had your heart racing. “So you’re volunteering to be my knight in shining armour?”

“I’d like to be much more than that if you’ll let me.” It was now or never. Steve swallowed thickly, hoping you couldn’t tell how fast his heart was beating. “How would you like to be my girl?”

“Hell yes!” The words tumbled out of your mouth before your brain had the chance to fully process what he’d asked. There was only ever going to be one answer to that question, and the warmth of the smile that lit up his face told you he understood. Still, you felt you owed him a more considered reply. Cupping his face tenderly, you caressed his cheek with your thumb, losing yourself for a moment in his crystal-blue gaze. “I mean - yes, I’d love to be your girl.”

His mouth captured yours in a breathless kiss, his tongue sliding along the seam of your lips, begging for access that you happily granted. Hands wandered in an unhurried exploration of each other’s bodies, a slow dance of yearning and desire. Intertwined in a tangle of sheets, it didn’t take long for you to feel the evidence of his arousal nudging insistently against your hip. So many hours of debauched pleasure and he was still eager for more - you were a very lucky woman.

“You’re insatiable, Captain Rogers. Are you sure you didn’t get a dose of that sex pollen?” Reaching down between your bodies to palm his erection, you were rewarded with a deep groan of approval.

“Baby, I can do this all day.” Rolling you onto your back, he slotted himself between your parted thighs once more, grinding against you as you sighed into his mouth. “And now you’re officially mine I’m gonna prove it to you every chance I get.”

.·:*¨༺𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐲༻¨*:·.

Ex! Soldier! Ari x Prostitute! Reader

WC:4.6k+ GIF by steve-kemp

"Who saved you?"

"The soldier boy. He had fallen in love with his whore. He followed me everywhere. He rushed in the minute they left."

{Warnings: angst and fluff, like a heavy angst moment in this but then there's so much fluff, ignorance of safe word, olderman and younger woman, Ari being 6'7 and huge, Ari being a sweetheart, daddy kink, size kink, prostitute!reader, spit kink, Ari is literally the best part of this, REALLY NASTY SCENE WITH BJ AND VOMIT BUT NOT FULL DETAIL!!!!! ARI IS THE GOOD GUY IN THIS!!! RANDOM GUY THAT'S HARDCORE BDSM N READERS LIKE NAH!!!ARI IS READERS SAVIOUR.}

The war was finally over and the boys were sent home to their beloveds and families. It was hard when they didn't come home, or didn't find their beloveds waiting. But the worst was Ari Levinson.

He had worked tirelessly in the war, shooting, stabbing. He was drenched in blood and would have no way of ever wiping it clean from his skin. He only had a few scars, he deemed himself lucky for that. He deemed himself lucky for surviving. Yet when he returned there was no one waiting for him. No beloved and no family.

His mother had passed away while he was fighting, his sister had moved away into a house with her husband so she could start a family, and his father died years ago. So when he came home, there was no one there to ease his pain. He simply wandered hoping that maybe a childhood friend longed for him and would run into his arms.

When he looked down at his arms all he found was his suitcase and a letter saying he was relieved of duty. And because he didn't have his lover, he was empty. He fought so hard and lost so many, and he didn't even get some love for his hard work. He was just stood looking at the dullness of life that surrounded him.

He remembered how excited he was to step off the train and be brought to the arms of an endeared one who would smother him in kisses. And he remembers when he stepped off and how the flood of women and families all gathered around the other soldiers, crying and hugging them. And most importantly, he remembers watching everyone leave the train station, so that it was just him clutching his stuff and waiting for someone that would never arrive.

After a few hours he gave up. He went to his mothers house which she left him, and went to bed with an aching heart. He had never felt such loneliness like this, and all it did was make his stomach turn and his mind race.

Everyday after he stepped off the train and returned home, he would wake up in his old room and go downstairs and eat his breakfast alone, before dusting the house and staring longingly at the family photos. And then he would sit and read the news paper until hours had passed and he decided it was time to drink his pain away. Then when he was stone cold drunk he would get up and head to bed. And repeat that routine until he got a letter from his dearest friend Sammy, inviting him out for a drink at the bar which he hastily accepted.

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"Hey! There's my pal!" Sammy shouted proudly from his seat at the bar before he quickly got out and hugged Ari, making sure to pat his back and remind him that he was there for him. With a grin, he led Ari to the seat next to his at the bar. They both orded their drinks and began talking.

The aching that was in Ari's heart silenced for a second and allowed for him to focus on his friend and their companionship. Every word uttered between the pair, eased Ari's desperation second by second. Until the topic moved onto women and that dreaded ache came back full swing.

"Me and Rachel are getting married soon pal. I want you to be my best man. What do ya say?" Sammy said with a grin on his face, he saw Ari's quick grimace and watched as the taller man nodded his head slowly. Sammy knitted his brows together and stared before he began speaking again.

"Woah buddy, what's wrong with ya'? Ain't you got a girl?" Ari gulped and looked down at his callous hand before opening his mouth and letting a quite rumble of 'no' out. Sammy's eyes widened. He had no idea, he always thought Ari had a girl. Sammy then looked around making sure no one was listening into the conversation.

"Listen man, between us, I know a place where you can kill your loneliness for the cheap." Ari raised his head and looked at his friend with furrowed brows. "What do ya' mean?" Sammy sighed and began speaking in a hushed tone.

"Rachel told me that some of the guys that came home without a woman went to a private house where the women's lovin is cheap. You just go in and pay and then if ya ever need a woman again, ya pay them and they'll take care of ya." Sammy smiled and patted his friends back.

A beat of silence passed, and Ari downed the rest of his drink. He remained seated allowing for the information to sink in and then with a sigh he turned and spoke in a hushed voice. "Do ya know the address?" Sammy chuckled and wrote it down on a small piece of card before sliding it to Ari.

Ari took it hastily and harshly patted his friend on the back, forgetting his own strength. He muttered a thank you, and started heading to the address, hellbent on eradicating his desperation for human touch.

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He knocked on the door and a woman dressed in a beautiful robe opened it and looked him up and down before speaking, her voice soft yet deep. Authority dropped off every inch of her and he respected that. "What are ya after sir?"

Ari gulped and then spoke softly, hating the fact that he had to speak his deprivation for human touch aloud. "I'm looking for a woman to spend the night with? A friend told me I could kill my loneliness here ma'am. I'm just after some soft loving." After speaking he tilted his head down, a blush coated on his cheeks while the woman cooed at him.

He raised his head and watched her moved to the side to let him in. He walked in as gentle as possible as she closed the door behind him. "I got the perfect gal for you." He smiled, finally able to have woman even if it was temporary. She gave him the price and he paid in full. She smiled at him "Down the hall to your left, there should be a white door that has a dove on it. That's where you're going angel." He smiled and bowed his head.

His heart raced as he took the direction and stood outside the door with a small black dove painted on it. He saw that the other doors all had different things painted on them. The door next to yours had a dog painted on it and the other one had a heel painted on it.

Ari let out a breathe and gently knocked on the door. "Come in." He heard a soft voice say from inside. He opened the door and closed it. He turned and looked at where the voice came from. There you were. Dressed all pretty in a white slip nightgown. Ari was in heaven just looking at you. You were so utterly beautiful that it stopped the aching in his heart and made it swell.

You smiled at him and put your hand on your hip. You stared at the man. He was very nervous you could tell from the way he was tapping his foot and playing with his hands. He was a big fella, a guy you'd have dreamed about. He stood at about 6'7 and completely dwarfed you. He was muscular, you could tell as the shirt he was wearing was holding onto his bicep so tightly you wouldn't be surprised if it left an indent on his skin.

He had beautiful blue eyes, yet they were looking at the floor. His hair was long but nothing messy, it was just the right amount and it matched with his full beard perfectly. You then noted the blush on his cheeks and giggled drawing his attention back to you. You made eye contact with the beautiful man and your heart raced.

"What's wrong suga' this your first time?" He spluttered and shook his head. "No ma'am. It's just my first time paying for company, and it has been a while. They don't allow us to bring women to war." He said the last part trying to lighten the mood, try and tell a joke to hear your pretty laugh again but all he got was you slowly walking towards him and placing you soft hands in his calloused ones.

"You're a soldier?" You whispered it so gently that Ari felt safe. "Yes ma'am." You stared at this shy man. "You ain't cheatin' are ya?" Ari blushed again. "N-No ma'am. I was just looking for company. There was no one waiting for me so I'm just trying to fill that loneliness and heartache." You raised your soft hand to his cheek and gently stroked it.

"I'm sorry darling. You know, if I knew you before the war I'd have waited for ya." Ari closed his eyes before any tears could slip out. He let out a cough and opened his eyes again looking down at your heavenly face. "You can call me Ari. I think I'll be here alot." You smiled at him.

"Well if that's right, I'll make sure Miss. Haferton does half off Ari. A soldier like you shouldn't be paying half price for the pleasure you deserve. You can call me whatever you want." He smiled and took your hand from his cheek into his own admiring how small it was compared to his. His eyes glimmered as he stared down at you. "I'll call you my little dove." You beamed at him.

"Cmon Ari, it's time to loosen up." Before he could even question what you meant you got on your tip toes and pulled him down kissing him. He was shocked before gently kissing you back and leading you towards your soft red bed.

After the night was done, you were both sweating. You curled up on Ari's chest and spoke to him about your life, and he spoke about his. Letting you know every detail about him. In that moment when it was just you two cuddled up and wrapped in the bed sheets, you both felt peace for the first time since before the war.

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A month had passed and you were swept off your feet. Ari would sleep with you every other day and you were always so happy that he did, but his possessiveness could be such a nuisance. He knew you were a working girl but sometimes he got so locked up in a fantasy where you were his wife that he forgot that you had sex for money.

Which is why you had decided to change the schedule and only have Ari sleep with you twice a week. You needed to make sure that all your clients had a reason to come back whenever they could, and it was incredibly difficult when Ari took up half of those days. So as much as it hurt you to bring sorrow to the soldier, you decided it must be done.

With a sigh you sat on your bed, clad only in a red lacey night dress when you heard the familiar soft knock of the gentle giant. A smile graced your lips at his politeness. "Come in Ari." You watched the door open and close. You raised an eyebrow and he stood next to the door and dropped his hand from the handle. There was a furrow in his brow and he looked at you.

"I was speaking with the lady at the door and she said that my schedules changed and I now only get two nights." You sighed and stood up. "She's right Ari. I had to change the schedule. I need more clients so I can make more money." "I can give you more money. Please I adore our time so much, don't limit me." "I have to Ari. Business is business whether you like it or not. This is what it's like. Either deal with it or find a new gal."

He stared down at you, anger flashing through his eyes. "Alright I'll deal with it, but we're not being soft. I'm gonna be rough with ya." You rolled your eyes and headed towards the bed when suddenly Ari picked you up and threw you on the bed.

He quickly crawled on top of you and helped you pull your dress off leaving you naked for his eyes to feast on. "Fuck, look at this perfect body. So small compared to mine, don't know how I came even fit my cock in ya. But you don't care do ya? You just want daddy's cock in ya, you want daddy to fuck you stupid til you come all over his big cock."

He stared down at your body and licked his lips. He kissed your neck, allowing his tongue to graze your skin but never suckle it. He knew the rules, no marks and no cumming inside. He kissed all the way to the valley of your breast before he quickly took your left nipple into his hot mouth and began to suck on it and let his tongue circle the bud.

All the while his large hand was travelling up between your thighs right towards your pussy, he smirked when he felt how wet you were before he plunged a finger in and began thrusting. You whined at the feeling of his fat finger that was soon joined by another finger. He switched to your right tit and began suckling that one, making sure that both your nipples were covered in his spit before he blew cold air on them so that they perked up even more. He groaned at the sight of you covered in his spit.

He added a third finger and watched as your pussy opened up more for him. He made sure you were used to his finger holding you open before he unzipped his pants. His cock jumped out angry and big. You stared down and watched as he grazed your folds with his tip. He then got to your entrance before pushing all the way in, knocking the breathe out of you. He smirked looking down at your blissed out face.

"Fuckin' look on your face dove. Only I can give you that look, like there's no thoughts in your head except daddy's cock. Good girl, fuckin' made it fit didn't ya. Makin daddy so proud takin his cock like a big girl. But you're not a big girl are ya? No you're just a dumb little whore who will gladly have her tiny pussy stretched for daddy's cock."

He grabbed your face and turned it to the side before spitting on your cheek and then doing it to the other side. You whined and he began moving, making sure his thrusts were slow but firm so his cock dragged across your gspot perfectly. He then began to thrust faster before grabbed your face, "Open your pretty little mouth dove, open it for daddy." You did as he complied drunk off his cock and he spat in your mouth.

Your eyes rolled back and you felt him drag his hand down to your clit and began doing small and fast circles. You began to thrash under him and the pleasure he giving you. A loud moan left your lips before you came all over his cock, your thighs shaking and your toes curling. You held onto him and as he began to fuck you through your orgasm. He squeezed your hips tight making sure there would be a bruise meaning he would leave a mark. He groaned at that thought and pulled out, cumming all over your stomach. You cuddled into him and smiled kissing his cheek and he smiled down at you.

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Eventually Ari came to terms with the fact he couldn't take up all your time, but he settled for the time he could. In or out of work. He soon became like your shadow and nearly all the girls fawned over him. Over how soft he was for you and how he practically worshipped the ground you walked on.

All you could see was problems though, he was so lonely that he would accept any company and turn it into adoration. Including a whores. You had to swallow your pride everytime Ari asked you to be his and tell him that it won't work. You were a prostitute and you slept with him for money and every time you said that he would softly ask with you nestled up to him.

"Would you sleep with me if you weren't being paid?"

In a heartbeat you always longed to say but you remained silent every time. You didn't want him to know you had fallen in love with him. This shy soldier had become your world and you didn't know what to do other than try and get more clients in, hoping and praying that the more men that fucked you the further Ari would be from your mind but everytime you were wrong.

Thankfully today was you day off, so you decided to go to the towns market and look around. You smiled at all the folks you passed recognising some of them and ignoring the judgemental stares of others. You began walking around the market and looked at the fresh fruit and vegetables. Just as you were buying some to stock up the house, a large hand shot past yours and paid for you.

While the man packed your fruit and vegetables you turned and saw Ari. Stood with a smile of his sun kissed face and his eyes shining. You giggled at the giant who was disguising himself as a teddybear. "Good morning soldier." His smile widened and he leaned down to place a kiss on your cheek. "Good mornin' little dove." When the man went to give you your shopping, Ari took the bag in one hand and offered his arm to you.

You raised an eyebrow at him. "C'mon dove, let's do some shopping for the house." You glanced around shocked that Ari would be so open about his relationship with you. "Are you sure Ari?" He chuckled, "I am not ashamed of you dove, I am just ashamed that I can't snatch you away from where you work. But other than that, I am completely carefree especially with you beside me." You blushed at his affectionate words and giggled. You then linked your arms with his and began shopping.

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That was just the first of many helpful adventures. Everytime you went out shopping Ari would tag along and help you. With either getting something from the top shelf in a store or carrying your shopping after the market. Truly he was becoming domesticated for you.

He was trying to enchant you to join him and his house by making you go shopping with him and helping him choose ingredients, and it was working. You were so close to choosing him over any form of work.

But then today happened, you were already in a bad mood since you didn't get any sleep due to the new neighbors revving their motorbikes to show who's more dominant. And then your first client of the day decided to cum all over your brand new silk bed sheets (gifted by Ari.) And now you had to wash it and all the other girls laundry.

You were ready to tear your hair out when you saw the house was out of washing powder. With a groan you headed out the house and went to the closest store. And surprise who was waiting in your shadow, Ari.

You were so tired and frustrated with today that you couldn't handle him following you around like a lost puppy. So you turned on your heel to look at the tall man. He smiled down at you and looked at you as if you were the sun. You almost felt bad for you snarky tone when you spoke to him.

"What do you want from me Mr. Levinson?" You put your hand on your hip glaring up at him. Yet it doesn't deter him as he continues his loving smile down at you. "I thought it was obvious. I want you to have my last name and be full of my babies." Your sighed frustrated and glare up at him. "You need to stop with this delusion Ari! I'm a whore! A harlot! Which, incase you were simple, mean I'm not wife material! Just leave me alone."

You grab your washing powder and throw the money of the counter before leaving. Ari stared shocked at your words. His heart hurt a bit, but if there was something that the war taught him, it was when things are bad to persevere through it and the sun will come out. So Ari took a breath in and swept his hair from his eyes with his hand and soon followed you back to the house.

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The second you got in you were swamped with a new client. A particularly harsh one, you'd only had him once. And afterwards, Ari came in and rubbed some soothing oils onto the slap marks he had left on your ass. This man was hard, and everything he did was to inflict pain for his pleasure.

You took a breath and went to put the powder away, when you saw Harriet walk into the room. She jumped when she saw you and then began speaking with her feminine French accent. "You scared me little mouse. Don't worry about the washing, I'll do it." You smiled at her and kissed her cheek, she giggled. "Thank you so much my angel, I don't know what I'd do without you." She smiled and waved you away.

You headed to your room and when you opened it, there he sat. The man as tough as nails and as hard as ice. You saw that he held a flog with sharp, pointed stubs on it. Your heart raced as you also saw the rope next to him. You looked back up at him distressed and he let out a cold chuckle. "Do not worry little kitty, none of this is for you. This is for Doreen. You're just warming me up."

You gulped, you'd heard about his 'warm ups.' How it was meant to be a simple blowjob but he made it something so much worse. You didn't want to find out but you knew he payed excellent money. So with racing heart you got on your knees and he unzipped his pants and pulled his cock out.

As you were deep throating him, he grabbed your hair and pulled it towards his hips. Your scalp burned at how hard he was pulling and tears filled your eyes immediately as you couldn't breath. Your nose was against his skin and his cock was down your throat. He smirked and groaned as you gagged and threw up on his cock but he didn't pull away forcing you to swallow it. Soon he came in your mouth and pushed you away.

You were crying, your voice horse as you repeated the safe word as loud as possible. He cleaned up and took his toys to the other room. He opened the door and bumped into a body. He looked up and saw Ari. Ari stared down at you, he noted the distress in your eyes and the tears streaming down your face. Then he heard you whispering your safe word.

Ari took one look at the man before he pinched him hard in the face. He immediately broke his nose but it wasn't enough. Ari headbutted him and watched him fall to the floor before kicking the shit out of him. Ari stood with a menacing look plastered on his face as he watched the man cough up blood.

He brought his gaze to your and it immediately softened but his voice didn't. His voice was deep and firm. "Get your things. You're coming to live with me. No room for arguments. You are coming with me woman." You nodded and Ari stepped over the unconscious body and began helping you pack.

All the while security had come and seen the mess and Ari began speaking to them about hearing you repeating your safe word and your muffled cries. Soon Miss. Haferton came around the corner and Ari began explaining how you were quitting. Your stomach filled with butterflies over Ari's dominance. You couldn't help but like him being all demanding, and when you realised that you knew it was time to give up the job and finally choose your soldier.

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Ari smiled as he stepped off the train. He had been visiting his sister to see her new born, just like she did when he had his newborns. It had been 5 years since Ari had met you and he kept true to his words.

He wanted you to have his last name and be filled with his children and so far you'd been married for 4 years and had 2 children with number 3 on the way. God he was so excited for baby number 3, he hoped it was girl as so far he had 2 boys and as wonderful as they were, they were absolute mama's boys. And who could blame them, with a mother like you he could see why they were. But now he wanted a daddy girl, someone he could spoil and fight all the guys for.

Ari chuckled as he stepped off the train, he looked down at his hands and saw a suitcase and a bag full of stuffed toys he got for his children on his visit. When he looked up his heart raced. There at the train station stood a heavily pregnant you with your two toddlers in their prams.

Ari rushed over immediately, and kissed you. After all he did miss you immensely, but it was the fact that you remember him talking about how isolated he felt when he first stepped off that train and no one was there for him. And now he had a family waiting for him. He looked down and nuzzled your noses before he quickly took the heaviest pram and babbled at his children.

He chuckled at their "dada's." As you both began pushing your children back home, he turned to you. "How are you feeling Mama? You okay?" You giggled at him. "Everythings okay Ari. The baby will come out when it's ready." He let out a huff, "I know it's just I'm eager to meet our beautiful little girl." "How do you know it's a girl?" "Trust me dove it's a girl, if not I'll buy you that pearl necklace you want so bad." You smiled, "And if it is a girl? What will I owe you?"

Ari turned and stared at you, admiring how you glowed in the sunlight. He paused and you did too. He leaned down and whispered gently in your ear, "You owe me another baby, That was the plan afterall Mrs. Levinson." He then kissed your cheek as you blushed and laughed at him.

You were so glad that your soldier came and saved you, he truly was your saviour and the love of your life and you couldn't be more thankful for him and your beautiful family. And he was thankful that he finally had you, he finally had someone who would wait at the train station for him.

imagine ari picking u up(on a motorcycle) for a night out😉

⊱ʚ𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐧ɞ⊰

Biker!Ari is such a bad feral man, he deserves all the innocent soft lovin from the reader.

(Warnings!! Smut!! Breeding kink!! Violence? Just Ari fucking you!! Daddy kink!! He's kinda dark but he's super super super soft!! Like he's only dark with other people but we don't get into that in this drabble)

Ari was the most feared biker in your town. He was the leader of the red sea biker gang, and demanded respect everywhere he went. Your friend feared him after witnessing Ari smash a bar up for no apparent reason. You had later learned the reason was because the owner had tried to hit on an underage girl. Although it was extreme, it was justly deserved.

You met Ari in an arts and craft store on a hot summer day where the town was slow yet chaotic. You wandered around the store dressed in your short summer dress that flowed all the way to your mind thigh. If you bent you'd flash your panties which is why you instead couched down when you needed to. You had your cute lace socks on and Mary Janes. You were exploring the shop trying to find the rose coloured wool your mother required.

As you were perusing, the door opened and heavy boots were heard stepping in. You turned to see who had entered and there he was. Clad in a flannel and a blue shirt, matched with dark trousers. You dragged your eyes to his face, finding his own eyes taking your form in. You felt a bit timid and turned away, deciding to look for the wool instead of examine the terrifying man.

As you continued you gasped excitedly at seeing the wool, yet your heart soon fell into your stomach when your saw it was on the top shelf. With a sigh you got on your tiptoes and began reaching for the shelf. Unknowningly giving Ari a show, he watched in curiousty at your small body trying to reach something. He watched as your dress slid up with your stretching, stopping just under your plump ass. He could've came just looking at the visage that was you.

He walked til he was directly behind you, and coughed. You turned and looked at him with wide eyes and looked down with a blush, knowing the toughest man had seen you struggle. "What do you need getting suga'?" You turned and stared at him, curiousity burning in your eyes as to why he would help. You replied sweetly, "I need the rose pink wool if you wouldn't mind sir." He flashed you a warm smile before he reached up and grabbed it for you.

He put it in your hands gently and you beamed at his 6'5 figure. "Thank you so much sir!" He chuckled. His smile becoming devious. "Hey suga', can you get me the black wool at the bottom?" You smiled and bent over, so in awe at the fact the big bad man was being kind to you. You flashed him your panties and he felt himself grow hard. Your lacey cherry panties hugged your peachey ass so well. His moment of staring was ruined when you turned and gave him the wool.

"Thanks suga'. What's ya' name?" His gruff voice asked and you told him with a smile. You began walking to the counter when he gently grabbed your wrist. You turned to look at his blue eyes and he spoke your name, "if ya' ever need anythin' from the top shelf, call my name and I'll be there suga'." You giggled and nodded before paying and skipping out of the shop.

Ari was hooked after that first meeting. Infact he was so hooked he started finding out as much as possible about you, which led him to your second meeting when you were working away in the diner. He stepped in and saw you working at the til. He walked up and flashed you a smile and you beamed back at him, happy to see him again.

You flirted with him the entire time he was there, and he couldn't help but indulge in flirting back finding every bit of attention delicious. He ended up visiting often sometime with the rest of the gang, but they all treated you with respect due to Ari threating them.

One day Ari couldn't take it and decided to ask if you would be his girl and he was met with a squeal and a hug. He kissed you minutes after, sealing your fate, as the most feared bikers woman.

That was 5 months ago, and not many knew that you were dating, that was because you didn't want to ruin his reputation. The only people that knew were you and the rest of the Red Sea gang. Tonight you had a date with Ari, he said it was special and you were excited.

You said to your parents you were going to a friends house. Ari texted you saying he was waiting around the corner and you said goodbye to your parents and headed to his bike. He looked so mysterious dressed in all black with his helmet on. He walked to you and you hugged him, you heard his muffled chuckle. He placed a pink helmet on your head that he had specifically painted for you. He helped you on first and then got on. You wrapped your arms tight around his strong body and you set off.

You traveled far, to the towns outskirts where he pulled up near a beautiful house. He pulled into the drive and kicked the stands down. He climbed off and helped you off too. He unclipped your helmet and then his own and hung them on the handle bars of his big bike. "Hey there suga'. I missed ya'." You answered his greeting by jumping and kissing him. He immediately wrapped his strong, big arms around your waist and held your tight against him. He engulfed your lips in his own and pulled away with a smile. He rubbed your noses together and put you down.

You entered the house and saw rose petals everywhere. You turned to look at him with hearts in your eyes, he gave you a shy smile and pushed on your lower back more. You followed the petal trail up the stairs hearing Ari close the front door. You waited for Ari at the top of the stairs and he quickly headed up them. He held your soft hand in his large calloused one.

You continued on the romantic trail to the bedroom. You opened the door and there were lit candles around the room. You walked to the bed and sat on it staring at Ari. Your heart rate had increased tonight was the night you knew it. You were nervous but so excited. You watched as he took his shoes off and got on his knees and slipped your shoes off gently. "Suga' just tell me to stop and I will." You stared at him, "I mean it suga', I'd never hurt you. Simply whisper the words an' I'll stop."

"Ofcourse Ari. I understand." You leaned down and pressed your lips to his. He quickly stood up and straddled you. He took his jacket off and broke away to pull his shirt off. You were in awe, you'd seen him shirtless a few times but this was more intense. You ran a finger down his body taking in how hairy and muscled it was. He stood up and unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants and pulled them off. He was clad only in his Calvin Klein boxers. He grabbed your hand in his gently and turned you.

You felt his large fingers unzipping your dress and his pulling it off. You were clad only in your lace socks and panties. You decided against wearing a bra with the dress you were wearing at it ruined the look. You heard Ari bite a groan back, and his hands slide forward cupping your breasts, his thumbs flicking your nipples while he nuzzled your neck and smothered it in kisses and hickeys. You moaned your back arching.

He turned you and pushed you onto the middle of the bed. His face hovered over your panty covered cunt and he licked over them, you whine. "God suga' could get high from the sweetness of your pussy. You gonna let daddy see it, yea'?" You nodded your head, he tapped your clit over panties making you jump in excitement. "Words suga'." You were dripping at his dominance, "Yes daddy! you can see my pussy!" You babbled out desperately.

He wrapped his hands around your panties and pulled the down your legs slowly before he took the off and sniffed them with a grunt. He took his boxers off and climbed on the bed again, hovering his face over your pussy. He breathed and your hips bucked. He wrapped his arms around them and dragged your pussy to his mouth. He began to suckle on your clit. You tried to run away but his strong arms kept you pinned to the pleasure he was inflicting.

He removed one arm and stuffed two of his fingers into your cunt, making you squeal at the sudden intrusion. He began thrusting his fingers in, making sure his fingers were lathered with your juices all the way down to his knuckles. He pulled away with a wet pop and dragged himself above you.

He sucked his fingers clean and stared down at you with heated lust clouding his eyes. You felt the tip of his cock prodding your hole, just as he was about to push in. You placed your hands on his beard cheeks and pulled him down to kiss you. His tongue immediately took to the dance yours was asking for. All the while he was sinking into you, and you both swallowed each others grunts and whines.

He pulled away are stared at you lovingly, "Fuck suga', you're so good for daddy. I fuckin' love you." You moaned and he pulled out leaving only his tip in. "Luv you too daddy!" You babbled excitedly already dumb on his thick cock. He peppered kisses all over your face while slowly thrusting in and out of your pussy. "God your cunt is so tight suga'. Almost like it was made for my cock. Fuckin' knew you were made for me."

You gasped as his thrusting got faster, your head jostled at his pace and his hard thrusts. Your tits were boucing and Ari stared at them before he took a nipple into his mouth and you moaned. He pulled away with a wet pop and sucked the other, swirling his tongue around it. You whined as you felt his large hand slither between your bodies and lay on your clit and tapped it. You bucked your hips and Ari pulled his mouth away from your breast.

"Fuck suga'. If you're not careful I'll wear you as a cocksleeve everywhere." He whispered into your ear. You wrapped you arms around his shoulders, scratching his back at the pleasure you were feeling. He groaned at the feeling of your nails digging into his skin. He increased his thrusts, and you started feeling dizzy but amazing. "You gonna cum on daddy's cock. Yeah? You gonna let daddy cum in you too? Gonna let him make you fat with his child? Yeah good girl."

You let out a desperate gasp and he began circling your clit and you soon felt the string holding you from cummin snap. You coated his cock and clenched feeling a high you've never felt before. You didn't even recognize your own voice screaming Ari's name. "Fuck yes! So good suga'. Daddy's cumming too!" And then you felt his thrusts stutter. Until he stopped with his cock pushed all the way in your pussy. He coated your insides and then flopped on you, exhausted.

You stuck together due to the sweat. You raised your hands and placed them into Ari's hair. "I really do love you suga'. Want everyone to know. Want to hold your hand down the fuckin' street and kiss your cheek. Want you to be my girl, and I'll be your man." You giggled and placed a kiss on his forehead. "Well you can baby, I want everyone to know you're my man too." He squeezed your ass you and slapped his shoulder.

He chuckled and kissed your chin. "Goddamn right I'm your man. Might as well move on now though suga'. We're practically attached, and my cock don't ever wanna leave the heaven between your legs." You laughed at him and held him tight slipping, embracing your lover and all the softness he had to offer you.

and all was lost

pairing: DARK!steve rogers x reader

summary: you must make it through the forest without being caught, lest you be forced to give in to whatever dark desires reside in your captor's heart.

warnings: 18+ content (MINORS DNI!!!), dark themes and elements, smut, explicit non-con, primal play, breeding kink, degradation, nicknames (little one, whore, breeding whore), fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex, begging/crying, mind break, dark!!steve rogers

word count: 1.3k

a/n: here's my entry for @boxofbonesfic's Friday the 13th Challenge! i had so much fun writing spooky fics back in october for halloween—and i love spooky stuff allll year round—so i just had to submit something. i used the prompt "the forest is old and angry" because i liked the dark vibes of it and came up with this dark/fun idea.

i've never written non-con before (i've tried but i always end up revising it out before i post a fic or not posting it at all) so any feedback would be greatly appreciated!!

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The forest was old and angry, and it did not care what happened within its depths so long as it was fed.

Your bare feet pounded into the ancient soil as you fled desperately, not caring if you snapped a few thin branches in your determined bid for escape. The crashing sounds of your pursuer tearing through the underbrush you’d just slipped through were muted, dull beyond the panicked drumming of your heart in your ears.

So fixated on your escape, it came as a shock when you were tackled to the earthy ground, face landing in a lump of decaying leaves, the rest of you cushioned by damp soil. The body of your pursuer crushed you, forcing the air from your lungs and stalling your scream on your lips. His breath was hot and sticky against your cheek as he spoke in your ear.

“Too bad, little one,” he muttered in a fake pitying voice, so much condescension in his tone it made your eyes burn with tears. “Couldn’t make it through the forest without getting caught—now you’re mine.” With his big, broad chest easily pinning you to the ground, your arms trapped beneath you, his hands were free to wander, and wander they did. His rough palms slid over your bare shoulders and skimmed down the sides of your breasts, his calloused fingers digging greedily into your soft flesh through the thin white dress of a sacrifice. “Mine to use, mine to fuck, mine to breed,” he hissed out through gritted teeth, grabbing your hips and pulling them up against his lap.

You whimpered when you felt the thick bulge in his pants. He was too big, too monstrous, he’d split you apart—or worse. His seed could take, and then he’d well and truly own you. “No, no, no,” you forced out on gasping breaths, your captor’s crushing weight still not letting your lungs take a deep enough breath. But he just laughed, cold and unforgiving, as he shifted, rolling your body over beneath him before pinning you once again to the soft earth.

It was only then that you got a look at the one who had caught you. You sucked in a breath when you realized he was handsome, unfairly so, with disheveled blond hair falling in his attractive face and a beard covering a jaw that, at any other time, would’ve made you swoon. His blue eyes were bright in the darkness of the forest, but they glowed like they were lit from within—and you couldn’t be sure if it was simply the reflection of the full moon or something more. 

His handsomeness stunned you for a moment, and he used that time to wedge his hips between your thighs and shove your skirt up to your hips, baring your most intimate place to the night air. When he freed his hard length from his pants—the only clothing he wore, having discarded everything else to be faster for the hunt—you returned to the present moment with a jolt. “No, no, please don’t,” you begged. Your arms freed, you tried to push at his shoulders and chest, beating at him with your hands curled into fists, but none of it did any good. The blows glanced off him and he paid them no mind.

Instead, he was focused on the juncture of your thighs, running his hands through your folds until his fingers found the sensitive bundle of nerves hidden there. Your hips jerked and a cry left your lips when he rubbed you there. “Know my name, little one,” your captor ordered in a sharp tone. “I am Steve Rogers, and I am going to enjoy the spoils of my conquest.” With that pronouncement, he unceremoniously shoved two fingers inside you, his thumb still grinding on your delicate jewel as he ruthlessly prepared you for what was to come.

Against your will, your body responded to his rough treatment, wetness pooling in your core and making the slide of his fingers in and out of you easier by the second. Tears burned behind your eyes, leaking from the corners, and slipping into your hair. Your arms had grown tired with fighting and they lay limply on the forest floor as you bit your lip and cried at your body’s betrayal.

But Steve was pleased by your cunt’s reaction, humming appreciatively as he watched you stretch to take a third finger, relishing the sharp cry he wrenched from your mouth. “That’s a good little breeding whore,” he murmured. “You’ll fit nicely on my cock.”

He pumped his fingers into you, and you grew wetter and wetter. Finally, when you started to feel something building inside you, he pulled them from your hole with a loud, lewd squelching sound that had you whimpering in embarrassment.

Steve positioned himself above you, kissing the corners of your eyes and drinking down your tears. “Shh, little one,” he cooed in your ear. “You’ll grow to love my cock,” he promised, sliding his thick length between your soaked folds, coating himself with your slick. “You’ll grow to love being swollen with my child—one day you may even beg me for it, beg me to fuck you and fill you and breed you.”

“That’ll never—” you meant to snap at him, to infuse your response with as much venom as you could muster, but Steve shoved himself deep inside you and your angry rejoinder was cut off on a sharp gasp. Every inch of Steve’s monstrously large cock sank into your waiting heat, and you felt suddenly dizzy from the mixture of pain and pleasure.

“Shush, little one,” Steve murmured, pulling out and thrusting back inside. “Be a good whore.”

It really did feel like he was going to split you apart, he was so large and you felt so small in comparison. But, impossibly, he fit inside you, and you couldn’t help the thought that floated up from the deep recesses of your mind—maybe he fit because he was supposed to fit. Maybe this was all you were meant for, taking a man’s cock and being his breeding whore. As soon as the thought crystalized in your mind, though, your entire being protested and you cried harder. “No, no, please, stop,” you begged on a sob.

But Steve only laughed, the sound cold as the snapping wind, and fucked you harder. He rutted into you like a wild animal, and your body responded enthusiastically even as your mind rebelled against the thought of being owned so thoroughly.

As it went on, you could feel yourself wearing down, especially as something like pleasure twisted tighter and tighter in your core—in the very center of your being. You knew whatever it was would change you forever and you found yourself both afraid and greedy for it. Just before your undoing, Steve folded you in half, pounding into your leaking cunt.

He rubbed your jewel savagely, and growled, “Cum for me, whore.” 

And all was lost. You came on your new owner’s cock so hard a scream wrenched from your lips, splitting the night air of the forest in half and rearranging your entire existence. You were his. You accepted it as truth, and you submitted to your fate as you let pleasure consume you.

Your gripping cunt was too much for Steve and he roared as he let go, pumping his seed into your waiting and now willing womb. He groaned as he collapsed to the forest floor, pulling you into his chest to rest before taking you home. It was done. He had conquered and bred you. He owned you. Forever.

The forest was old and no longer angry. It was satiated, having gorged on the violence of the night. And so, it slept.