deepbatched - Tumblr blog

deepbatched · 1 year ago

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LONG & LOST

a/n: this is part of the haunted hoedown event that i've decided to take part in. i saw it on @inklore's blog and immediately fell in love. when i saw that dark academia was on the list i knew it had to go to steven. i'm a dark academia fiend and sticking him in that trope has always been a dream of mine. so here's a slightly darker take on a love story with him. enjoy!

summary: you were the poison in his veins, the pomegranate seeds on his tongue. yet he wanted more. he needed it...just as he needed you.

word count: 4.8k+

pairing: steven grant x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, angst, dark romance (kind of but honestly not really), desperation, addiction to a person, dark academia setting, spitplay if you squint, body worship, p in v sex, cumplay, cumeating.

Lamps casted a soft glow throughout the library, giving you enough light to work by yet not enough to actually see anything else clearly around you. It filled you with a sense of comfort, your body sinking further into the chair as you flipped page after page in your book. In the distance, you could hear rain pouring outside, thunder rumbling in the sky every once in a while. If you weren’t mistaken, you could hear the shuffle of the librarian walking the rows, placing the books in their rightful place.

His name was Steven, a man who had stuttered over his words slightly when you spoke. Not out of nerves, but sheer excitement—unable to get the words out fast enough as you two quickly got lost in conversation. However, that was the first and final time you spoke to one another. He seemed to evade you every time you came close enough to start up a conversation—his back, the only thing you saw most days as he walked the other direction.

Even now as you got lost in the words before you, Steven’s presence still remained. Looming in the depths of the library. You could never lose him entirely. Not when he still kept so close yet so far away—his need to be near you only grew the more time you spent in the darkened building.

Eventually a crack of lightning struck the sky, lighting up one side of the library for a brief moment, before the lamps that stood on various tables were extinguished. Leaving you in complete darkness—your phone screen, the only bright thing you could find. You cursed under your breath, setting the book on the table with a soft thump, before getting up. Going in search of someone.

But the longer you walked down the rows of bookcases, the more you came to realize…you were the only person left. Everyone either avoided the place today due to the weather, or chose to go home early. Even several of the other staff members had vanished, heading out for the night and leaving you alone with none other than Steven.

You found him wandering the rows with a flashlight, checking to see if anything was wrong. Simply the sight of him in a button down and soft jacket was enough to send your heart racing. Although you were certain he wouldn’t say the same. In all honesty you were convinced that Steven didn’t like you. That he avoided you because he didn’t want you to be a part of his life—which you accepted, giving him the space he so desired.

However, you couldn’t have been farther from the truth.

Steven stilled at the sight of you illuminated by your phone’s soft glow, the knit sweater you wore doing absolutely nothing to hide what you looked like beneath it. He felt his cheeks flush at the thought of you bare—an image he refused to let himself conjure up in his head. He knew it was wrong to think about you that way, given that he’d been avoiding you. Yet he couldn’t stop himself.

Not when you looked at him that way. Your eyes soft and welcoming, as if asking him to speak, to finally give you what you both wanted.

“I think everyone went home,” you said, causing his heart to stutter in his chest.

He searched desperately for something to say, words—anything. “I’m nearly done here,” he replied, shifting awkwardly on his feet. “You can go if you want.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach. “Oh…”

So much for actually talking to him. It seemed that Steven was more interested in getting you out of the library than keeping you in.

He caught the disappointment on your face, in your voice, and felt guilt begin to claw its way up his throat. The last thing he wanted was for you to leave. Fuck if he had his way you’d be here with him constantly. But Steven—ever the man who excelled at words—could no longer find them when he was around you. Which was simply ironic for a librarian. So, he stepped closer, drawing your eyes back up to this face, and watched as your entire body seemed to react to his presence alone.

For as much time as he spent avoiding you, he spent an equal amount of time studying you—your expression as you read, the way you lit up when something good happened in the story. He wanted you to do the same for him. To burn for him. Just as he did for you.

“Or you can stay,” he finally said, watching your sullen expression begin to lift, a light returning to your eyes.

“I can?” you murmured.

He nodded, his lips pulling up into a soft grin, and for a moment Steven swore he could see you melt. “I might need some help. Checking to see if people are still here.”

You had never heard a more brilliant idea. “Okay,” you said, a smile tugging on your mouth. Heat seared through your chest when Steven’s eyes flickered down to your glossy lips, his gaze darkening for a brief moment. Nearly causing you to combust on the spot.

“Where do we start?” you asked, breaking through the silence and dragging his attention back to your eyes. His cheeks were stained red, tips of his ears burning as he looked away quickly, realizing he’d in fact been staring.

You found it cute.

“Left side?” He pointed his flashlight down a dark and empty row. “I’ll find you after yeah?”

You set the flashlight on your phone to shine brighter. “You’re not coming with me?”

There was no reason Steven had to go with you. In fact, you knew the setup of the library like the back of your hand, so getting lost wasn’t a possibility. But this was the most you had ever talked with him, the conversation flowing with ease just as it did before. Only this time you were adamant to keep it going—refusing to return to the silence that seemed to plague the both of you.

Steven glanced at you once more and caught the sight of determination in your eyes. There was no avoiding you anymore. No more running to hide from his true feelings. And if Steven was being honest with himself…he didn’t want to. He’d never felt this infatuated with someone—the crush so strong at times it nearly felt painful. Yet in spite of all that, he knew the feelings were merely one sided; a love that would never be reciprocated.

But you were standing before him, telling him you wanted to spend time together, and Steven felt the cloud shrouding his heart lift—allowing sunlight to break through once more.

“No of course,” he said softly, latching onto the feeling of hope that filled his chest. “I’ll come with you love.”

The nickname sent a small thrill through your body, something warm trickling down into your stomach. Without another word you turned away, starting right where he said, hearing the echo of his footsteps behind you as he followed along. Thunder continued to rumble outside, proving that this storm wouldn’t be over for a while. So, you walked slowly—meandering through the different rows and picking up books that were left behind on tables and random shelves.

It felt nice. Simply being there in silence with him. As much as you yearned for more—a conversation that told you more about him, about why he’d avoided you—this was good enough. The scent of books filled your senses as it always did, but above that you could smell him.

Steven’s scent was warm, soft, like a slow tune you wanted to listen to on repeat, a book you never wanted to finish reading because once you did, you’d grieve it like an old friend. It clung to the air, filtering into your senses until all you could smell was him.

You longed to know what he tasted like. Would his kiss be flavored with the taste of his tea? Or would it be minty like the gum he sometimes chewed? You felt the breath catch in your throat at the mere idea of kissing him—finally divulging in that one dream you kept like a well guarded secret. But that’s all it would be.

A dream.

“People rushed out of here in a hurry,” you said, noting the open books scattered on several tables. They must have wanted to make it home before the storm got worse.

“I closed up the library. Told em’ to go home before the streets got bad.”

You turned to look at him, seeing how he gently organized the books on a cart he’d found in one of the rows. “You closed the library?”

“Mhm.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He froze, eyes focused intently on the book in front of him. Steven figured if he didn’t respond, you’d drop the topic altogether. Yet he didn’t know the level of stubbornness you actually possessed in your body—the need to know stronger than anything else. You waited patiently, watching as he stepped into an aisle to place the book in its proper spot. All the while the rain pattering against the window continued to fill the void of silence that hung between you.

“Steven?”

He let out a breath, his brown eyes meeting yours—a timid look reflected in them. “You looked busy.”

A blatant lie, but you wouldn’t press him on it right away. “Busy?” You quirked an eyebrow, feeling the ghost of a smile on your lips.

“Reading,” he clarified. “I didn’t want to interrupt you.”

That soft and familiar warmth was back, melting into you. “You let me stay to read?” He nodded with a relieved smile. “But that’s not the only reason is it?”

Steven looked like a deer caught in the headlights and he felt like it too. For a brief second he swore his heart stopped—his nerves jumping beneath his skin. He couldn’t back away from the truth now. Not when you were so close to uncovering it yourself. Except the more you pressed him, the more he could see that this is what you wanted. To be here with him surrounded by books, in the midst of a storm.

“I wanted you to stay.” His words were a soft utter, barely a breath of air, but you heard them as if he’d pressed them against your ear.

“But you always avoid me.” It was the truth. He did what he could to make sure your paths rarely crossed. While at first you believed it was due to the fact that he couldn’t stand you. Now you could see it was something entirely different.

He looked distraught, eyes shifting between you and the shelves behind you. “I didn’t mean to.”

“You didn’t…mean to?”

Letting out a long sigh he ran a hand through his already unruly curls, a few falling into his face. “I want to talk to you��believe me—you’re just…you’re—”

“I hope there’s a good ending to that sentence,” you joked, a nervous smile flitting across your lips in the hopes of dissolving some of the tension that remained.

“You’re everything,” he murmured, his eyes drinking you in freely, thoughts running through his mind that would have made him feel bad before. Yet now he could see the want in your eyes.

The same craving running through your veins.

“Oh…”

“I didn’t avoid you because I didn’t like you. I avoided you because…” he trailed off softly, uttering the truth for the first time and feeling the weight leave his shoulders. Steven was known as a shy reserved man, but beneath the surface he wanted so much. He just never felt strong enough to grasp for it.

“I’m everything?” you asked with a breath of awe, stepping closer and watching as his whole body stiffened. But he refused to move, not when you were finally giving into what you wanted.

He nodded quickly, his breath coming in and out as if he couldn’t get enough. Your soft perfume wafted through the air, filling his senses until he felt drunk off you and yet you were still a foot away. Still too far for him to touch, to reach out and give in to his desires. Steven had finally come to a conclusion of what you were to him, what your presence did to him. You were the poison in his veins, the pomegranate seeds on his tongue. Yet he wanted more.

He needed it…just as he needed you.

“Yes,” he breathed, his cheeks stained red and eyes wide. But you weren’t focused on that. No, your eyes were solely stuck on the sight of his lips, how they were parted slightly to take more air in lest he pass out from lack of oxygen.

“Steven…” you murmured, taking the final step, and his walls came crumbling down.

Gathering you gently, his lips met yours in a feverish kiss that made your whole body melt. A kiss that turned you drunk on his scent, the warmth of his mouth against yours. The kind of kiss they described in ancient literature. You dug your hands into his curls, a soft moan pressing into his mouth as his tongue slid along your bottom lip. It wasn’t perfectly put together, pristine in all its nature, because that wasn’t Steven.

He kissed you with a sloppy passion, teeth clacking together and tongue delving into the heat of your mouth. Tasting the coffee you drank, the desire on your tastebuds. He groaned when you cupped his cheeks, licking into him deeply, your body pressing against his with a debauched fervor. In all your time of being here, of being apart from him, you always indulged in the fantasies of knowing what he tasted like—what he kissed like. Now you knew.

Now you took and took until neither of you could breathe. He worked his lips down your jaw, his spit spreading along your chin when he pulled away. You moaned, head falling back and hands grasping onto the breadth of his shoulders. Steven was adamant on finding the places that would make you sing, the sounds he craved to hear. And you keened when he bit down on the juncture of your neck and shoulder, hips rolling against his in a need for friction of any kind.

“Oh—” You stumbled back, hand slapping against the table behind you. He still remained wrapped around you, reaching down and pulling your leg up around his hip.

“I want—” he gasped, burying his head into your shoulder, hips canting down to grind perfectly against yours, ripping a sharp gasp from your chest. “I need to—please love—”

“Yes.”

You shifted, ripping at the buttons of his shirt, his jacket somehow on the floor already. It flickered in the back of your mind that you had torn it off him the second he started kissing your neck. Everything was a haze in your mind, until you couldn’t discern anything but his touch, his taste.

“Yeah?”

You nodded, lips finding his again in a wet kiss, your moan swallowed by him as he fell into it. His hands stripped you of your sweater, warm palms finally touching the bare skin of your waist. It was euphoria in the best way possible. As if you were finally indulging in the one desire you always wanted. His eyes were stuck on your chest, watching as it rose and fell—the lace of your bra perfectly shaped around your breasts. You opened your mouth to ask him to touch you, but he was already ahead of you.

Leaning down, he spread his tongue along the top of your left breast, hand coming up to cup and knead the other one softly. His thumb brushing along your peaked nipple. He wanted to consume you, devour every part of you, and the knowledge that you’d let him is what did him in.

“Fuck,” you cried, your head falling back and back arched to press your chest further into his face. “Oh god!”

Groaning, he pulled down the cups of your bra—revealing you entirely—before taking your nipple into his mouth. Your hips shot up, pressing against the prominent bulge in his pants and watching as he squeezed his eyes shut, his teeth scraping against you. Something intense pulled at your stomach, heat flooding you until you could do nothing but fall back against the table. Steven followed you, unable to part his mouth from your body—worshiping any part of you he could reach.

He wanted to taste you until you were a mess beneath him. Only able to utter one word—his name. He’d never wanted something so bad, never gave into something as desperate as this.

A loud crack of lightning shot across the sky, sending light through the stained glass windows for a brief moment and you caught a clear glimpse of Steven’s eyes. His pupils were blown wide, swallowing the soft brown of his irises, lust overtaking his features. He looked like a man starved. Someone who would do anything—say anything—to have one simple taste of what they wanted most.

You just so happened to be that for him.

The mere thought that he was willing to do whatever he could to have you sent heat streaking down your spine, your body bending to his soft gentle caresses. He looked at you like the most important thing he’d ever seen. As if you were a priceless carving created out of the finest stone.

You were art and he longed to admire you for as long as humanly possible.

“Need you,” you murmured, dragging his lips back to yours and swallowing his soft needy whine. “Want you to fuck me.”

His broken moan was pressed into you, his hand scrambling for the button on your pants. He mumbled something nearly incoherent underneath his breath. Whispering how beautiful you were, how lucky he was to be with you like this, how he’d let you consume him entirely. It was enough to have your toes curling and body calling out to him.

“Perfect,” he mumbled, sliding his hands down your torso. “Bloody perfectly.”

Your lips curling into a grin, eyes dazed with a fucked out look nearly sent him to his knees. Steven’s mind reeled the further he pulled your pants down, until they were in a pile on the floor and you lay before him bare from the waist up. The lace of your panties were wet. He eyed the prominent dark spot, licking along his bottom lip he practically watched you drip. Because of him.

“I want to taste you love.” His thumb ran along the edge of the lace on your hip, sending a chill through your body—your eyes fluttering shut briefly.

“Later,” you gasped, hips pushing up to chase his touch. “I need you Steven.”

He sighed softly, falling over your body, kissing up your stomach with soft delicate touches that sent a flurry of butterflies through your body. For so long he’d kept himself away from you for fear of this never happening. Yet now here you lay. Begging him for his cock so sweetly it nearly made his heart give out. His hand slid underneath the waistband, fingers dipping into your slick and his eyes shot up to yours—shock quickly spreading across his face.

“This all for me?” he asked in disbelief, his fingers dipping even further until he circled your entrance lightly.

You moaned, teeth catching your bottom lip as you nodded. “All for you. Always for you.”

Steven hurriedly reached for the button on his pants, making quick work of getting them off. Leaving him to stand bare before you, his cock pressed up against his stomach. Your eyes trailed down the length of him, admiring how red and swollen he was, how he leaked for you, practically begging for your mouth. If you were coherent enough, you’d have gotten on your knees for him, but Steven was adamant on simply tasting you. As if he’d dreamed of it since you first met.

“All for me?” you whispered, licking your lips at the sight of his hand wrapping around his cock.

He nodded, a moan falling from his lips. “Always for you love.”

Sitting up, you wrapped your arms around his neck, dragging him closer until you felt him press against your stomach, smearing the precum along your skin. It drove you wild.

“I want you in me,” you begged, wrapping your legs around his hips and dragging him closer. “Please Steven. Want to feel your cock in me.”

A pained groan escaped him, his hand pushing your panties to the side and thumb pressing against your clit until your legs trembled slightly. He made a promise to himself that before tonight was over, he’d be between your legs, tongue delving inside of you. But for now he was just as wanton as you. Needing to feel your cunt wrapped tightly around his throbbing cock.

Notching the head at your entrance, he forced himself to pay attention as your face went slack, eyes rolling back slightly at the feeling of him stretching you open. Inch by inch he pressed into you, until your back was arched and a garbled moan of his name was pressed against his lips. He grunted, staving off that brilliant sensation of bliss to push the rest of the way in with one swift thrust. Until he was buried so deep he felt sanity begin to slip from his mind.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “So fucking tight love. S-So perfect for me.”

Your mind went blank, a fire roaring through your veins as he simply held himself there. His cock stretched you so well it nearly burned, but you were past the point of need. If he didn’t move you were sure you would lose your mind entirely.

With a soft whine he pulled out leaving an empty sensation in you, the need to have him close nearly overwhelming you. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your chest, teeth nipping softly as he pushed back in, and you lost the remainder of your soul to him. Crying out you dug your nails into his back as he repeated the motion, nearly tearing you in two with his thrusts.

“Feels so good,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your neck. “I knew you’d feel good.”

Your walls clamped down around his cock at his words. “Ah—Steven—”

“I’m here.” He reached for your hand, dragging it up and pressing it into the table. “‘M not going anywhere love. You’ll never get rid of me.”

A high keening whine tore from your throat, eyes meeting his as the sting of tears began to rise to the surface. “I don’t want to get rid of you. Never.”

“Yeah?” He sped up slightly, watching your mouth fall open, a tear slipping down into your hair. “You want me to stay forever?”

You nodded, legs tightening around his hips. “Uh-huh.” Your words came out so high pitched you should have been embarrassed, but you couldn’t. Not when Steven was fucking you so well that you could barely grasp onto a single thought in your head.

The rain pounded against the window, drowning out the sound of your skin slapping together, but above all the noise you heard it. The audible sound of his cock sliding through your slick. An echo so fucking depraved it nearly flung you off the cliff then and there. But you needed more. You needed Steven to fall with you and by the looks of him—his curls damp with sweat, face red and eyes focused on the way your breasts bounced—he wasn’t far behind.

“Oh fuck!” you cried, feeling the very crest of pleasure begin to build. “Steven—fuck please please—”

He grinned, his hand falling to your clit and driving you even higher. It happened quicker than you expected. You screamed his name and heard it echo in the empty library, the storm doing nothing to overshadow how lost you were. He watched in rapture as you fell, your cunt clamping down so tight he was sure he’d fall with you. Except he was too focused on trailing his eyes down every piece of your body, how it called to him.

Slamming his hips into yours, his thrusts became sloppy—needy as he chased his own release. And without realizing it, words began to spill free. The truth he’d kept to himself for so long. Yet now that he was buried in you so deep he’d never leave, about to spill into you, he found he could no longer hide it.

“Tell me—” He gasped, falling over your body and digging his fingers into your hip to keep you in place. “Tell me this is more.”

You nodded, unable to even speak as yet another orgasm began to build in your body.

“You’re like a sickness, a disease…” He grunted, his hazy eyes watching your face contort in pleasure. “And the only way for me to be cured of you…” Another broken sound tore from his throat, his balls drawing up painfully. “Is to let you completely consume me—”

“Steven!” you wailed, his words causing the pleasure to break within you, flooding your body with a mind numbing sensation.

He fell forward, his lips smothering yours in a spit filled kiss. “Until my body has no fight left,” he gasped, finally spurting into you. White flashed behind his eyes and for a moment he couldn’t discern whether it was his body or the lightning outside. Yet he found he loved it either way.

With a soft pained moan, he shallowly thrusted a few more times until the combined mixture of your cum began to spill out. Coating the tops of his thighs. The feeling of it only made the painful overstimulation worth it. But eventually he had to stop, your nails digging into his shoulder letting him know you were past the point of pleasure.

His hand slipped down, gathering the sticky substance on his fingers and drawing it up to your breast. Watching with a parted mouth as it shined in the night. He leaned down without thinking and gathered your nipple in his mouth, hearing your soft moan echo off the bookshelves. Steven couldn’t get enough of you, couldn’t find it in himself to ever let go, because you were an addiction in his veins. He’d had a taste and needed more.

Something told him you felt the same way.

“Love?” he asked softly, stirring you from your dazed state.

Your eyes fluttered open, the sight of him slightly hazy, but it was beyond perfect. He looked fucked out and happy—the soft grin on his face caused your heart to flutter. You wanted to curl around him, to keep him inside of you until the sun came up. But you could feel the hard wood of the table dig into your hips, your body sore from being put in this position.

“I’m here,” you smiled, cupping his face and bringing his lips to yours. “Mm. The table is uncomfortable.”

His eyes went wide for a brief moment. “Right, sorry. One sec. I’ve got you.”

Pulling out and shushing you softly with a kiss when you whined at the loss, he helped you off the table. Until you were both lying on top of your clothes on the floor in a heap. His warmth felt comforting in the cold air of the library and you caught sight of a candle flickering in the distance. He must have lit it when the power went out.

Steven sighed, running his fingers down your back lightly, tracing shapes you couldn’t make out and symbols you didn’t know. When you came to you’d have to ask him what they were. But the exhaustion was slowly pulling you under. He shifted, pressing a kiss to your temple and wrapping his leg around your hip.

“Darling?” You mumbled, tapping him lightly on the chest to let him know you were listening. “Do you actually want me to stay forever?”

He no longer sounded like the Steven that was determined to fuck you within an inch of your life. No, this was the man who avoided you to hide his crush for as long as possible. This was the man who wanted to know if you meant what you said. If forever had the same meaning to you as it did to him.

You grinned, pressing a soft kiss to his chest and snuggling in further. “Until all the stars die in the night sky,” you mumbled, knowing he was smiling as he kissed your head.

“Yeah. That sounds good to me.”

“Me too,” you breathed, feeling his arms wrap around you tighter, the rain now a soft echo in the background as your ears adjusted to a different sound altogether.

His heartbeat.

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deepbatched · 1 year ago

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i'm not cute || m.o.

pairing || miguel o'hara x fem!reader

summary || Miguel always loved when you played with his hair.

author's notes || this is my first miguel fic and im v excited!! there will be much more to come <3 also, my spanish is v v v limited and i tried following what ppl were saying in the miguel tag but please let me know if I need to fix anything!!

warnings || none, fluff, it's tooth-rotting

“Did you just braid my hair?”

You paused—froze even. Your hands stilled in between his luscious, soft hair, and it took every ounce inside of you to not continue to feel through each strand of his.

“Uh, no?” It was bashful.

You inwardly winced at the extremely unconvincing tone of your voice. You couldn’t see, but his lips curled into the smallest of smiles. His spidey-DNA, as you liked to call it, sensed the heat that radiated off of your body.

After an unsuccessful mission, Miguel came home in a state of ire. His eyebrows were furrowed, anger rolling off of his body in waves as his chest heaved up and down. But as soon as your hand placed itself across the plains of his chest and soothed the fabric of his suit, everything started to dissipate.

The anger, the grief, the guilt—everything.

You gently pulled his wrist, and he blindly followed you into the living room of your makeshift apartment he built in Nueva. You sat right above him on the couch, brush in your hand as you stroked through each strand of hair. His frame practically barrelled over you, despite him sitting on the ground with his back to the legs of the couch.

In return, he wanted to desperately turn around and press light kisses into your skin, but he refrained. He knew that all you wanted to do was comfort his tense muscles.

“That didn’t sound very convincing.”

You bite your lip, sheepishly, as you ignored his comment and started to braid another part of his hair. You very carefully twisted the fluffy soft hair between one another and grinned at the What he didn’t have to know wouldn’t hurt him, right? Well, apparently, you were wrong because once you tugged on his hair, yet again, and he practically jumps.

“¡Ay!” He yelps and turns his head to look at you, “¿Qué mierda haces?”

Your eyes widened, “Miggy! Oh—I’m so sorry!” You go to reach for his head again in an attempt to soothe the pain that you caused, but he caught your wrist.

If you weren’t too concerned about tugging on his hair, you would have noticed the slight change in his lips that turned into a sly smirk. “Cariño,” He warned. His voice was gravelly and rough—the sound sending shivers down your spine. “¿Qué voy a hacer contigo?”

In one motion, he’s hovering over you. “Hmm?”

Your mouth opens in surprise—the spark in your heartbeat not going unnoticed by the man before you. “I–I just, Miguel—” You were starting to get nervous under his gaze—just like you always do.

Pure adoration flashed between his ruby eyes, and his finger gently rubbed against the side of your cheek. It was so gentle and affectionate that it almost created tears against your waterline. He loved when you got nervous and playful—it always struck against his chest and seized him whole. He wanted to see the effect that he had on you in every waking moment, it seemed.

He smiled. “You’re cute.”

You gasped, attempting to turn the tables around and flip him over. “I am not cute!” Alas, you were unsuccessful.

He laughed. It was hearty and pretty against your ears. “You’re right. You’re the cutest.”

You grumbled under your breath, and it took every ounce of control not to kiss the puffing of your cheeks. “Whatever, you’re the cutest. Not me.”

Miguel smiled—teeth showing and entirely genuine as he took in your playful expression and fingers that twisted the short hair against the base of his neck.

“I’ll eventually make you admit it, mi alma. Don't you worry."

¿Qué mierda haces? - What the fuck are you doing?

Cariño - Honey

¿Qué voy a hacer contigo? - What am i going to do with you?

Mi alma - my soul

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deepbatched · 1 year ago

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Light It Up

Pairing: Firefighter!Curtis Everett x Female Reader Summary: Curtis doesn't expect to meet someone like you when he puts out a fire. Word Count: Over 2.7k Warnings: Building fire, most likely inaccurate info regarding firefighters (I tried), a bit of grumpy and sunshine, Curtis Everett (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I wasn't able to get all 4 birthday stories done, but I hope you lovelies enjoy the ones I plan to share. Here's 2 of 2! ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby (thank you for spitballing), but any and all mistakes are my own. Thanks to @targaryenvampireslayer and @ghotifishreads as well for letting me scream about this. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Curtis closed his eyes as he relaxed in his cot, blocking out the snores of some of the other squad members. His shift was almost over and it had been fairly quiet. Between testing and inspecting gear equipment and exercising, he managed to get a couple of short naps in to fight off any fatigue. Overall, it was a good day.

Didn't save a life today, but still a good one.

He loved his job. While he understood why some enjoyed the structure of an office or 9-to-5 job, it wasn't for him and never would be. He was a man of action. Being a firefighter was his way of giving back to the community and being part of something bigger than himself. He hoped to become a lieutenant in the near future.

Just when he thought he should get up to study, the alarm rang out.

Time to go to work.

He sprang to get into his gear, his body on autopilot as the other squad members got up and did the same. The small rush of adrenaline hit as he put his boots on before he reminded himself to think clearly. Someone out there was depending on him. Though he wasn't a lieutenant yet, he felt a responsibility for his squad, too. He couldn't let them down.

"No hot date tonight, Curtis?" Jake teased as he got in the truck, Sam and Joaquin hiding their smiles as they followed. All military veterans and good men.

"Fuck off, Jensen," he replied with no heat behind it. Jake was one of the goofier squad members, but the man was strong, dependable, and had a sense of duty. He was also great with kids. "No date talk. We have a job to do."

Truthfully, Curtis couldn't recall the last time he went on a date. He did remember his last girlfriend said his heart was as cold as the blue of his eyes and as black as his buzzed hair. All because he asked to reschedule a date night since he had to pick up an extra shift. He hadn't put in much effort after that to search for the one.

It was a bit lonely, if he was honest with himself. He didn't have a fancy home, but he did work hard to build his from the ground up and took pride in it. While he had a dangerous job and couldn't predict what tomorrow would look like, he could offer safety, loyalty, and trust for his partner. Was that enough by today's standards?

Focus.

Smoke filled the air above a small apartment building as they rounded the corner. There weren't any connecting buildings, but people already gathered on the street to see what was going on as they parked. They had to get anyone inside out safely and contain the fire.

We may not salvage the building since it's a small and older structure, but we can save the tenants.

"I'm guessing at least two apartments on the lowest level, Everett," he heard through his mic as he got out of the truck. "You check the first door. Jensen, you take the second door. Wilson and Torres, you check the second level."

As Curtis and the others made their way toward the main entrance, you stumbled out of the building with a slight cough. You had what looked like an animal in your arms as you tried to move out of their way. Before you could, you stumbled off the step, his arms shooting out to catch you before you hit the pavement.

"Easy. I've got you," he said through his helmet, steadying you as you blinked. Looking into your eyes was like a punch in the gut, but he didn't have time to stare and exchange pleasantries. "Was there anyone else in there with you?"

"Not in my apartment," you answered with a headshake.

One of the EMTs that arrived on the scene rushed over to get you. As reluctant as Curtis was to hand you over, and he wasn't sure why, he had a job to do and had no choice but to move forward. The smoke hit him hard as he made his way to the first door on the lower level, testing it before he busted it in and followed the room's edges to search the place. By the time Jensen searched the second apartment, the fire had torn through most of the first floor and it wouldn't take long for it to consume the rest of the structure.

You're lucky you got out when you did.

"First floor clear," he yelled into his headset.

Sam and Joaquin found a couple of teenagers who hadn't paid attention to the building fire alarm. "Second floor clear."

Once they searched the third floor and everyone was out safely, the crew worked to extinguish the flames. People of varying ages stared at the structure in a mixture of shock and sadness. Everyone was safe. But where were you?

Why am I concerned?

"Hey!" He called out as he went to the ambulance, taking his helmet and mask off. He didn't recognize the medic. Maybe he was new. "Where's the young woman who ran out when we arrived? She had a bright colored shirt on? Is she okay?"

"Over there," the EMT replied, nodding to where you sat alone on a small patch of grass. "Listen to this. She said she got out before the fire began to spread, but she ran back in before we arrived."

Hearing that set something off inside of Curtis. Maybe the adrenaline was still there and fueled his own inner fire. "She did what?!"

"She ran back into the building, but she's okay. Pupils reactive. No obvious indication of smoke inhalation. No burns. It's a miracle she doesn't have a single one on her. Must have some sort of luck on her side," the EMT said, carefully fitting an older gentleman with a mask. "Wouldn't let me put a mask on her though, even when I insisted. Kept pushing it away and told me to take care of everyone else. I'd like to check her out again, just to be on the safe side."

Yeah. Check her out.

Curtis wasn't sure where the small surge of jealousy came from. "I'll go talk to her," he offered, stripping off part of his gear and coat before he approached you.

You had a blanket wrapped around your shoulders, a surprisingly calm expression on your face as you lifted your head. There was a chance you were in shock. Or maybe you were contemplating your life choices for going back into a place that was on fire.

"Miss, can you hear me?" he asked, crouching down to meet your gaze. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," you said with a long, hard blink. You looked a little lost, but okay. "Did he send you over? You don't need to make a fuss over me. Really."

"I'm glad you're okay," he sighed in relief when your voice came through crystal clear, no obvious signs of smoke in your lungs like the medic said. "Now can you tell me what the hell you were thinking running back into a burning building?!"

You sat up a little straighter with wide eyes. "I had to go back in. You don’t understand!"

"Understand what?!" He asked, doing his best not to get agitated. "What is so important that you ran back into fire?"

"My neighbor ran out without grabbing her cat, Mr. Whiskers, and I couldn't leave him there. She loves him. He's all she has."

This beautiful woman did not just say "cat". And I did not just think she's beautiful.

"You risked your life for a cat?!" He asked louder than he intended. "What the hell were you thinking?! You're lucky you weren't killed."

You tilted your head, not at all phased by him raising his voice. "Don't you risk your life every time you go into a fire?"

"Yeah. Because I'm a FIREMAN. That's what I'm supposed to do," he argued, irritated that you asked such a question.

"Well, I’m a cat lover!" You huffed, holding your chin higher like you dared him to argue.

Oh, I have so many things I want to say.

Curtis was tempted to grab you by the shoulders and shake you hard enough to knock some sense into you. Didn't you know how quickly a fire could spread? The heat alone could've killed you. That was without you inhaling any of the thick, toxic smoke that filled the area as the flames raged out of control.

"Miss, I'm asking as nicely as possible: Are you insane?"

Your eyes crinkled before you giggled, the happy sound foreign in such a terrible situation. Then again, people responded to traumatizing events in different ways. "I might be a little. Have you ever done male modeling?" You questioned.

Heat rose to Curtis's cheeks that had nothing to do with the fire aftermath. Something was wrong with you. There had to be. People he saved didn't hit on him. Some of the other guys were on the receiving end of that, but not him. Apparently, he was too gruff and grumpy.

"You're really pretty," you mused when he didn't answer you.

Pretty. You called me pretty.

"…I think you should go to the hospital."

"Why? I feel fine."

"Smoke inhalation. A hit to the head. I really don't know how else to explain your behavior."

Besides the fact that you clearly have no sense of self preservation and need someone to look out for you.

"I feel fine. You're just really pretty," you smiled, reaching out toward his cheek. "Even with ash on your face, you're gorgeous. And you're huge."

He grabbed your wrist before you touched him, careful not to harm you. "No one calls me pretty," he said, thankful none of the others were close enough to hear you. That was the last thing he needed to deal with. Though he was a little flattered.

Just a little.

"What do people call you, Sir?" You asked, innocently batting your eyelashes.

Your neighbor, complete with the large, fluffy cat you rescued in her arms interrupted before Curtis could give you an answer or dwell on your doe eyed expression. "Thank you for saving Mr. Whiskers," she said, sniffling as she held the ball of fur closer. "I don't know what I would do without him."

You shrugged with a smile, like a blazing inferno hadn't destroyed part of, if not all of, your building. "It was nothing. I just did what anyone else would do."

No. Most people wouldn't risk their lives for a cat who doesn't belong to them.

He fixed you with the sternest gaze he could muster when the older lady walked away. "You put yourself in unnecessary danger, Miss. You're not trained for that and it isn't your job to be the hero," he said, hoping you'd never encounter a situation like this in the future.

Your lower lip wobbled and he worried you'd burst into tears. Maybe his demeanor wasn't the kindest in the moment, but he didn't want to make you cry. "I know it isn't my job, but I wanted to help."

Curtis deflated a little, but was still fired up. "Your job is to take care of yourself," he said, jabbing a finger in the direction of your neighbor. "How do you think she would've felt if you didn't make it out? Or your loved ones?"

"But I did make it out," you said in a small voice.

He almost ran a hand over his face. You made it out unscathed, but how much of that was luck? He wouldn't admit it, but it was impressive what you did. But what about your safety?

Who takes care of you?

"Miss, is there anyone I can call for you? Family? A partner?" He asked, done with lecturing you. "You won't be able to stay here."

"My family doesn't live close by and I don't have a partner," you answered, pulling the blanket tighter around you. He wasn't sure why he was relieved that you didn't have a partner and he didn't want to examine that further tonight. "I'll figure something out."

"I'd feel better knowing you have a place to stay," he said, his tone gentler than before.

Grief filled your eyes when you looked past him. "Is everything gone?" You asked.

Curtis was never one for getting attached to possessions as he never had a lot growing up. But the weight of losing cherished memories and homes was heavy for many. By helping your neighbor, you most likely didn't grab anything for yourself.

"Chances are everything in your apartment is probably gone," he answered, not wanting to lie to you. He placed a gloved hand on your arm, knowing it wouldn't do much to comfort you when a tear fell. Still, he had to try. "But like you said, you made it out. That's the most important thing."

"Yeah," you smiled sadly, shocking him by pushing yourself up off the ground and wiping your eyes. "Well, thank you for getting everyone out. You're a hero."

"Just doing my job," Curtis said, your gentle praise meaningful. Though he had a feeling you were deflecting and his instincts weren't usually wrong. "Do you have a place to stay?" He pressed as he stood to his full height.

You looked at the ground as you shook your head. "Not really. I moved here recently for work and don't really know anyone, besides my neighbor. It's okay though. I'll stay in a hotel until I figure something out."

His heart sank. He couldn't imagine moving to a new place just to lose it in a flash. "But relief service can help-"

"I'll have the EMT give me the all clear again, if it makes you feel better," you said, stunning him by throwing your arms around him. Even through the smoke, he caught the scent of your sweet perfume. "I appreciate you checking on me personally, Sir."

"Curtis," he said, your brows furrowed as you stepped back. "My name is Curtis."

You smiled and gave him your name before you headed to the ambulance, leaving him to stare after you.

"Jensen!" He yelled, his teammate still in full gear as he trotted over. "Punch me in the face."

"…Is this a test?" He asked, slowly removing his helmet. "I mean. I can punch you. That's not the problem. But why would I punch you? Did you do something wrong?"

"Because I'm worried about her. She ran back inside to save her neighbor's cat."

Jake looked in your direction before he smiled at Curtis, who glared in return. "Really? Why would I punch you for worrying about her?"

"Because it's stupid."

Curtis didn't understand. You were a stranger. He knew nothing about you. So why did he feel the need to look out for you?

Maybe I should have my own head examined.

"I think it's kind of sweet. Romantic. You must think she's cute at least if you're telling me to hit you."

That's why it's stupid.

"She said she's staying in a hotel," Curtis said. How long would you do that? When would you find a place to live?

"She should contact relief service," Jake said, bumping his shoulder. "Hey! Didn't you just fix up your guest room? Offer it to her."

Curtis looked at Jake like he had grown a second head. "Why would I do that?" he asked.

"Isn't that what heroes do? They meet the heroine and sweep her off her feet during her time of need?" Jake asked, rolling his eyes when Curtis grunted. "Maybe just give her your number. Let her know she has a friend if she needs one? You know grief may hit later and who better than to help?"

"Maybe I'll give her my number. Maybe."

"And offer her your room," Jake added, stepping back just in time to avoid Curtis shoving him away.

One step at a time.

Sneaking a look at you in the back of the ambulance, Curtis couldn't believe he was contemplating what Jake suggested. It was crazy. But seeing your tiny smile, something about it pushed at his inner wall. You intrigued him. And his last failed connection was wrong. He didn't have a cold heart.

He'd prove it.

This was actually going to be Ari when the idea first formed, but Curtis seemed like a better fit. Oh, these two. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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deepbatched · 1 year ago

Text

𝗣𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗪𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗙𝗶𝗿𝗲

pairing: bodyguard!ari levinson x mafia!princess reader

concept: You intrigue me, moving on top of me, touching my lips here and there, and I am enveloped by more desire.

word count: 3.5k

warnings: bratty reader, desire, lust, p— in-v, edging, dirty talk, degradation, rough sex, unprotected sex, praise, mature themes, small gun violence at the night club, teasing, nickname ──(Princess, Sweetheart)

a/n: Thank you @sunshinebuckybarnes and @lookiamtrying for always being the finest menaces, and I know this is a few months late, but here it is.

lovely beta: Thank you so much @writing-for-marvel for listening to all the ideas I had for this story and for always lifting my spirits. @lunarbuck Thanks for always telling me it wasn't a silly dream and for always encouraging me. lots of love for you both.

the cute gif and moodboard/line divider made by me

masterlist

The sky burns higher and higher, love, is fire too scary for you

Stepping into the house, the sound of your designer red heels striking the marble floor blasts through the foyer like a raging fire storm. Your unyielding determination and boiling-hot rage shines through every step you take.

His eyes are dominated by a blue hue that seems to numb your energy.

He glares at you as if you are nothing more than air; as if he didn't intend to acknowledge your presence.

You want to reach out and rip that icy gaze off his face. No one ever ignores you in such a manner in this state, or anywhere else for that matter.

“You’re destroying my life!" Your voice reverberates through the walls as you throw anything within reach to express your seething hatred for him.

Ari can’t help but take a deep breath, feeling your shouts stab at his head like spears.

"Why don't you just leave me alone?" You snarl through gritted teeth as you tear off your heels, aiming them at his face. “You know, I could hire someone to get rid of you."

For the one single night when all you want is freedom, he’s here trying to drag you out of the car. You tried escaping by hiding in the backseat of your friend's car, but you never got to the gate. You didn't have time to enjoy your freedom before Ari Levinson dragged you away.

Your humiliation reached its peak when he laughed, mocking your position as a mafia princess who has to beg her own bodyguard to stay away from her. The laughter sent ripples of anger and shame shooting through your veins.

"Do it, Princess." He smirks mockingly. “I would love to see them try."

Your nails dig deep into the flesh of your palms as you clench them tightly together. You scream at the top of your lungs as you ascend the stairs to your room.

Ari can still hear faint echoes of your cries drifting through the hallway until they slowly die away completely. His thoughts drift as he picks up your heels and walks up to your room, murmuring to himself, "This spoiled princess wants to be a brat."

Having no escape, no freedom, I will shake the world to get what I want.

There is something magical about dancing as rainbow-like colors illuminate the room around you, every move creating a small firework. As the music plays, the room fills with a sweet smell of sweat and perfume that only enhances the experience. Your arms move through the air and your feet bounce in step with the beat. Closing your eyes, you let go of everything else as you reach for the sky with wide eyes and a contagious smile in your heart.

The music plays, and you laugh to yourself, knowing he will probably kill you because of what you did.

“There she is!” You turn to see your best friend, Irnia. Her eyes twinkle with mischief as she hands you a glass filled to the brim with sparkling golden liquid. "How did you escape that beefy dreamy bodyguard of yours?"

A smirk appears on your lips as you sip the drink. “He’s wet and trapped in a bathroom with a broken door knob."

Through careful planning, you managed to lock Ari in the bathroom and break his doorknob. You collected your phone, along with other items he had hidden to keep track of you, and escaped. Your only desire was to hear him grunt in anger when he realized you had outsmarted him. But his blue eyes had lost their intensity long ago; they could never keep up with his work.

The music pulses through the club's veins, coursing through the air and pushing people to dance and laugh. With joy, drinks are thrown back and mouths are wide open.

There is a flicker before the lights go out, plunging everyone into darkness. Screams of surprise echo off the walls. As panic grips the crowd, hands grasp each other desperately in search of an escape.

You suddenly realize, as you feel yourself being pushed by the crowd, that your exit plan is stuck at home because you had locked him in.

Chaos in your mind leaves you speechless, and words cannot describe how fear engulfs you and flushes out the light.

Your finger trembles at the trigger of your gun, and your heart races in anticipation. A cold bead of sweat rolls down your forehead and mingles with the night's warmth, washing away what remains of your sense of security.

You take a deep breath and lunge forward, gripping your gun tightly as if it’s a lifeline.

A frantic noise outside causes a chill to grip your body, so you raise your weapon and cry as tears slowly trail down your cheeks. A burning white light weighs down on you, making breathing even more difficult.

The burning white lights mock you with what they can't provide.

Safety.

If you close your eyes, all you can see are a pair of familiar ocean blue eyes.

Ari had insisted you carry a handgun strapped to your leg and taught you how to use it, although he kept a distance from you. “It’s either your life or theirs. These men will not hesitate to shoot. Are you prepared?" You suddenly feel as if he was protecting you with his advice.

Your gun is aimed at the door, ready to face whatever danger may arrive. It feels heavy, but you know it is worth the effort for the sake of your life.

You feel an icy chill run down your spine as the door of the club's restroom slams against the wall. Across the concrete floor, heavy boots stumble, their footsteps echoing like thunder in the darkness. One by one, the stall doors open, closing in around you and filling the room with the smell of sweat and fear.

You hear Ari's voice and you know you are safe, but still too far away from him. Gun in hand, you hold it tightly. It's just a matter of holding on so he can find you. An agonizing scream follows Ari's grunt and the thud of his fist hitting flesh.

Your heart races as terror washes over you and your throat dried up. You muster every ounce of courage to cry out for help, “Ari, I am in here, please! I'm sorr-y.”

I only know where I am, and anger is outside.

Rage coursed through Ari's veins when he heard you had disappeared on his watch. In his quest to protect you, he called every contact to trace your movements. In the club, he saw your ex-boyfriend marching toward you and felt a flood of desperation wash over him.

As instinct kicked in, he punched anyone who stood in his way with animalistic skill and ferocity. A body flew across the room with each blow, leaving the walls trembling. He heard your voice calling for help at that moment.

Ari surges through the crowd and slams the door of the stall. You stand there, trembling in fear, your gun shaking.

He immediately runs towards you, ready to take on any foe if need be. The gun falls from your hand and into his arms.

When Ari touches you, your knees weaken, and you feel at peace just seeing his crystal blue eyes. You embrace one another and time seems to stop as relief washes over you both. Tears of guilt roll down your cheeks as you apologize profusely for everything that happened.

While the stormy sky pours, I search for your caring touch.

A slow pounding of your heart fills the air as you tiptoe into Ari's bedroom. A gentle thunderstorm rages outside the window; the room smells like rain; the steady rhythm of the drops is loud in the background, providing some comfort.

When your eyes adjust to the darkness, you can see Ari's figure in bed. His long, dark beard frames his lips, adding a relaxed aura to his facial features. Moonlight and lightning flashes create an ethereal effect on Ari's face and body; his sculpted muscles move beneath the blankets, with a few chest hairs peeking out.

The protective wrap around his arm from when he saved you at the club catches your eye. He never spoke a word about it or blamed you. The contours of his body ache beneath your fingertips, but you remember what happened the last time you tried to get so close to him.

A lump forms in your throat as you slowly lay the blanket across Ari's chest. It had been a long night for both of you, and this man in front of you saved you without a hesitation.

You reluctantly turn around, ready to leave, when suddenly Ari grabs your wrist and pulls you onto the bed on top of him. His muscular arms wrap around your waist and hold you against his solid chest.

Your body relaxes in his embrace as you breathe in Ari's breath.

The sound of his voice rumbles as he searches for your eyes. "Where do you think you're going, Princess?" he asks in a husky voice as his fingers caress your skin.

There is a throbbing sensation in the pit of your stomach, as well as warmth spreading throughout your body. You are feeling the effects of his presence. Your heart races with tension and nervousness as you try to pull away, but there is an undeniable magnetism between you that won't let go.

You don’t want to show it, but a part of you wants to stay with Ari forever.

Looking for an excuse, you murmur "Away from you. Let me go." But it is too late, he knows you’re concerned for his health and doesn’t let go.

A smirk appears on Ari's face and he responds calmly. "Oh no, now you want to tell me what to do in my room? You were here for a reason, so why do you want to leave now? When I opened my eyes I saw you on top of me. Princess, I can touch whatever is in my room - care to tell me what brought you here?"

You reply firmly, your voice low. "Ari, you're injured and out of it. I just wanted to see if you needed anything. Now let me go, you idiot."

His smirk slowly fades away and is replaced by sadness. "Princess, there's only one thing that can heal my wounds.” He pauses, letting his words sink in. “Kisses from that bratty mouth of yours."

In one swift movement, he flips you over and hoveres his body above yours, one hand pinning your wrists above your head and the other brushing and grabbing your throat.

A smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he replies, "Kisses, Princess." With your face inches from his, you open your mouth to protest, only to have him shush you with a stern look in his eyes.

A mischievous gleam adorned his eyes as he whispered in your ear, "Let me taste those lips and a few other things I've been thinking about for months." He places his lips on your neck.

A part of him has always intrigued you which was why you couldn't leave him. You whisper softly, "Ari, you're insane," inviting him to stop you, but that is the last thing you want and he knows it.

Ari looks at you with lustful eyes. Teasingly, he asks, "Are you sure?". He glances downward to where your fingers are digging into his shoulders and groans. "The way you're touching me makes me think that you're not."

You bite your lower lip and throw caution to the wind as you push his shoulders, securing yourself back on top of Ari again. Your legs straddle his waist; you don’t want him to let go.

In a frenzy, you whimper yes, and his hands begin to lace their way up your body, unbuttoning your night top. Soon, you feel the cold air on your breasts and his thumbs touch your nipples. "You feel this, sweetheart?” Ari’s voice is a low whisper. “I’m going to make you mine."

For months, you've wanted to see him like this, to feel him. Now, after tonight, you’ll never see him again. Because of what happened at the club your parents deemed Ari unsuitable to be your bodyguard. It is your fault, and they said they would talk to him in the morning, but you had to see him now.

"I'm going to scream and you–," you whisper, trying to tease him.

The two of you lock eyes, and your lips part slightly. As his hands reach out for your face, he pulls you in for a kiss. Taking a deep breath, he breathes you in. When you feel his breath on your skin, it makes you shiver with need.

You feel like an invisible fire has been burning your bodies since the moment you touched him, a fire which has been burning for months without a way to slake its thirst. Moans and sighs of desire fill each other's mouths as your mouths collide desperately. When he touches your breasts, your heart skips a beat; every spot craving to be touched more. Ari tears your clothes off your body and you feel the sensation of him bare against yours.

“The screams will be my name and you moaning for me to keep fucking you, sweetheart.” He adjusts himself between your legs.

Euphoria erupting in your body and a pounding heart.

“You’re already wet for me, aren’t you, sweetheart?"

He can also see how close you are to surrendering completely to his dominance. The teasing look in his eyes gets under your skin, so you lift your legs up and arch your back towards him.

You feel his cock against you again, teasing your needy pussy for him.

Your lips whisper, "Please, Ari." As he watches you squirm, Ari raises his hips as if he is considering whether or not to enter you. A coy smile spreads across his face as he teases you around the edges of your pussy. He seems to enjoy it too much.

The more he teases you, the more irritated you become. You bite your lip and moan, the excitement of danger heightening your lust. You watch as he looks into your eyes to see how much you crave him. “Fuck you, Ari," you beg, despite yourself.

You feel as if your bones have melted under pressure, and your legs shake with pleasure and anticipation.

"My princess really wants it." The words spin in your mind intoxicatingly and put a clenching pressure on your core.

Just outside of where you need him most, his cock strokes up against you. Is this teasing? It's driving you crazy, but with pleasure instead of anger. Your skin tingles just thinking about him, as if his touch has already molded itself over your soul.

You squint, begging him to stop teasing you without words. Before now, you have never asked anyone for anything.

His hard thick length felt foreign and hot as it slowly eases its way into your entrance. With an animalistic growl, Ari thrusts inside all the way in one motion, sending thrills through your body. His slow, precise movements inside you have you clutching desperately onto his neck, digging your fingertips into his skin.

You intrigue me, moving on top of me, touching my lips here and there, and I am enveloped by more desire.

Each time he rotates his hips, a different nerve ending is stimulated, causing you to moan uncontrollably. He pulls back slightly before pushing into you again. Dropping down on his forearms, he leans over you with his lips never leaving yours.

“You can’t control yourself,” he murmurs into your mouth. “I think I can already feel you coming.”

He smirks and pulls out almost completely before slamming back inside of you. Every muscle in your body tenses up in anticipation as he teases you with all the sensations he has been denying you for months. “Do you want more? Are you ready to come for me?”

Ari slams hard into you and pulls away, taunting you. In an effort to keep him inside, you grasp onto him desperately. The more you plead, the more he retreats, only to push harder the next time.

"My naughty princess," he whispers, "you love this so much." Take a deep breath! His rhythm is slow and shallow, fucking his cock in and out of you before speeding up. With each impact, he slides an arm under your waist and lifts you up slightly as he drives his body faster and deeper than ever before. "Look at you," Ari growls deeply as he pumps into you ferociously. The only thing stopping him is your legs holding him tightly around the hips while smacking your ass as the bed posts shake. The sight of you panting through gritted teeth thrills Ari.

"Let go," Ari whispers hoarsely as he seals a kiss of desperate longing on your lips, giving the command that calms all drives your body.

A fire of passion ignites beneath the moon's gaze, as he steals kisses from my body in a husk of passion.

The air in the room is hot and heavy, and Ari's sweat-slicked forehead glows in the low light. His lips find your forehead first in a gentle kiss that feels like a long-awaited release. As you lift his hair from his face, he grabs your hand and kisses it. His hand slips lightly through your hand before lingering on your face. “Did I still destroy your life, but now with my cock?” he asks with a hint of a smirk.

You couldn’t help but giggle, and you playfully slapped his shoulder in response. “Shut up,” you whisper back. “I still want to kill you.”

Ari chucks as he kisses your protest away and flips you so that you straddle him. He cups his hands around your waist, gently guiding you onto him until you both gasp at the sensation of being connected as one. “How about you ride me to death, Princess?” he murmurs.

It was black outside and thunder rumbled, but inside the room was hot, red, and heavy with lust.

When a thunderclap resounds this night, your hands grip his chest tightly. Whatever may happen now, he will always be by your side to protect your heart.

A hungry, filthy eye watches it as lustful desire ignites around every corner

645 notes · View notes

deepbatched · 1 year ago

Text

𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐥𝐲

𝐌𝐨𝐛 𝐁𝐨𝐬𝐬!𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐫𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐚𝐧, 𝐩𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐭 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐤. 𝐔𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝. 𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟔𝟔𝟐𝟖

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐎𝐡 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭? 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐩, 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐞𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩. 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐃𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐬. 𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐬𝐞𝐱. 𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐎𝐫𝐚𝐥 (𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠). 𝐏 𝐢𝐧 𝐕 𝐬𝐞𝐱. 𝐀𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐥𝐮𝐠, 𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐃𝐮𝐛 𝐂𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐧 𝐂𝐨𝐧. 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐬. 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭 😂 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔!

𝐀/𝐍: 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞'𝐬 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲! 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐈 𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝟓𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝, 𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐈 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐡 𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐭. 𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 (𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬), 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤!

𝐓𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 @suzs-fic-library 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬. 𝐍𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐈 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞. 𝐈'𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬. 𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭, 𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐬, 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭.

You hadn’t been able to sit down or sleep on your back in a week. Your phone and credit card had been cancelled, and, most importantly, you hadn’t seen Steve since that terrible night a week ago.

You hadn’t known, how could you have known? Steve Rogers didn’t come to you to tell you about his business, he didn’t pay for your lavish lifestyle in exchange for money advice. Your relationship was very simple, you were his pretty, young, live in mistress who he could fuck however and whenever he wanted. Sure he cared about you and you definitely cared about him, but it was what it was.

Steve had paid off your college loans, set you up in a beautiful apartment, gave you a massive allowance and all he ever asked for was that you be there when he needed you to look hot on his arm, and to be waiting for him with open arms, legs and mouth.

You’d fucked it up.

You’d made a friend, a hot older guy who you’d shamelessly flirted with in front of Steve’s VIP section - he’d been ignoring you all night and you’d been feeling more than a little petulant and bratty - you weren’t thinking properly about what you were saying, or who you were saying it to.

“That your boyfriend, sweetheart?”

You nodded absently, smirking at Steve who turned to glare at you before ignoring you again, “Yeah, he’s my man, and he’s an asshole.”

“Oh yeah? How come?”

“He’s busy again. Probably setting up some new distribution.” You roll your eyes, turning to look at the hot guy holding you loosely in his arms, “He does a lot of that. It’s annoying.”

“Distribution?”

“Yeah. He’s in car parts. Or something. I never really know.” You lower your voice, “That’s not what he wants me for, y’know.”

“Pretty thing like you? I bet I know exactly what he wants you for.”

You giggle, “Yeah my conversation isn’t that good. Not like those drug guys he meets on the pier.” You don’t know why you said that, especially to a stranger, but it was out, and you couldn’t take it back. Unease rippled through you and you’d abruptly left the arms of the hot stranger and gone home pouting.

You’d woken up to a furious Steve who’d spanked you mercilessly, making sure to cause you as much pain as possible, and who’d bitterly yelled at you before he’d left you alone all week,

“That was a fucking cop you’d thrown yourself at, you dumb whore. You’ve cost me a million in lost product and all the bribes I had to pay out for. You’re lucky I don’t throw you out on the streets where you belong.”

You hadn’t meant to do that to him. You hadn’t meant to make him so mad or to lose him money. Realistically you knew that a million to a man like Steve was almost negligible, he made that in a few days between his legal and not so legal businesses, but it was the principle of the thing. You were there for him to fuck and spoil.

You weren’t there to mess with his business.

A week goes by, no contact, no nothing, just his henchmen at your door telling you not to leave. It’s not until midnight the following week that you see him again. You’re sleeping restlessly, and wake almost instantly when you feel the bed dip and his warmth envelop you from behind,

“Steve?”

“Shhhhh, princess, I’m here.” His thick arms wrap around you, dragging you back against his chest, his stubble scratches at the soft skin of your neck, “I missed you.”

“Steve, I’m so sorry, please forgive me, please please please-”

“It’s okay, princess, I got you, shhhh…” you feel the t-shirt - his t-shirt - being pulled up past your waist, “I should never leave you again, who told you to wear this piece of shit clothing to bed? Where’s all that sexy shit I buy for you?” He puts his index and middle finger in your mouth, telling you to suck them before you can answer before pushing them under the hem of the sleep shorts you’re wearing, “Put your leg over my hip, good girl.”

His wet fingers meet your clit and you moan desperately. You hadn’t touched yourself all week, you hadn’t done anything you’d usually do. You’d been punishing yourself for being a bad girl, for disappointing your man, and now this simple touch almost drove you to completion instantly,

“Oh fuck- S-Stevie…”

“You like that, princess?”

“Y-yes…”

“Good.” He pulls his fingers away, chuckling at your whine, and then rolls you to face him, shoving his fingers back in your mouth so you can taste yourself before kissing you hungrily, “You all needy for me, princess?” You nod, an ache building between your legs almost painfully, “Get on your knees.”

Steve drags you out of bed, pulls the comfy clothing off of you, and then pushes you to your knees, “I’ve missed your mouth, I’ve missed how good you swallow me down like a good whore.”

He doesn’t usually talk to you like that. Steve usually treasures you, praises you, worships you even as he uses you as he sees fit. Tears leak from your eyes, not all of them because of how he’s choking you with his thick cock down your throat. Steve wipes them away, smiling with an edge you’d never seen before,

“Take it all, don’t spill a drop, then go and get showered. I’m taking you out.”

You do as you’re told, warmth still building through you like barely lit kindling. You want to ask what’s happening but something stops you. Steve might be back in the bed he’s paying for, but he’s still angry at you, and the bruises still on your ass and thighs make you think twice before questioning him.

You get out of the shower to see an outfit laid out on the bed, including underwear and shoes, and a note telling you to put it on and hurry up with your hair and make up. Your heart pounds as you rush through your usual routine, as much as you want to skip a few stages, you’re too nervous about what Steve is doing. He takes you out to show you off, if you look anything less than perfect he’ll notice and then he’ll be mad at you again.

You can’t afford to be put out on the streets.

“Do I look good, Stevie?” You enter the living room, doing a twirl so the skirt rises just enough you know he could peek at your ass if he wanted. The outfit and underwear made your heart pound and face warm. It’s the type of thing that was designed to show off as much skin as possible, and the lingerie was expensive, silk and lace and enticing. You smile demurely when Steve crooks a finger at you, walking over slowly on the heels he put out for you,

“You look like you want every man alive to fuck you senseless.” Steve ran his hands over your outfit, his thumbs over your already hardened nipples, under your skirt to your still weeping cunt, to your ass where he grabbed a cheek, smiling when you winced, “I like that you look like this. You’re fucking gorgeous.”

“Thank you, Stevie. It’s a pretty outfit.”

“Not as pretty as you.” He stands, kissing you gently before leading you towards the door.

He takes you to his car; a Bentley Continental GT in a deep navy colour, and holds the door open for you. The street is quiet when he pushes you against the car before you get in, his hand gently closing over the column of your throat,

“You love me, princess? The life I give you?”

“Yes.” You did, so much, your lip trembles at the look in his eyes, “Please, Stevie, I’m so sorry, I’ll never do that again. I’d do anything to make it up to you!”

“Anything? Are you sure about that?” You agree immediately, why wouldn’t you? Steve grins wolfishly at you, adding just a little pressure to your throat, “Turn around.” He glares when you hesitate, so you rush to do as he asked, spinning around and putting your hands on the roof,

“Steve, what- Steve!” Steve lifts your skirt past your hips, you hiss out the admonishment, before squeaking when he lands a slap against your ass.,

“You think I care if anyone sees this? They’ll think twice before doing anything. You’re mine, and right now I want to put something inside you.” Your nails scratch against the beautiful paint job but Steve’s too busy pulling down your thong. You squeeze your eyes shut when you feel something cold and wet against your ass, and then Steve pushes the plug in. It hurts, and you whine, but you nuzzle into his palm when he turns you to face him, letting him fix your outfit again,

“Good girl.” An ease seems to settle over him before he lets you go, “There’s a blindfold on the seat, put it on, and keep your legs open as I drive, I want to finger fuck your cunt some more before we get where we’re going.”

You do as you’re told, as he’s just proven, there’s no real choice in the matter. Partly because it’s a thrill to you, to pull the blindfold over your eyes, to not be able to see as he starts to drive, as his right hand reaches over the console and slaps the inside of your thigh so you spread your legs wider. It’s a thrill when he pulls the thong to one side and exposes you, as he circles your clit relentlessly and chides you for getting your slick all over his leather seat. It’s a thrill to feel the plug in your ass, a pressure that’s simultaneously uncomfortable and delicious.

He still wouldn’t let you come though. You’re begging and pleading but Steve won’t relent,

“Bad girls get their pussy played with, but it’s for my pleasure, not yours. That tight cunt just begging for release makes me hard, and whilst I’ve forgiven you, you still got a long way to go before I let you get an orgasm. You haven’t earned one yet.”

“What do I have to do, Stevie?” Tears dampen the fabric of your blindfold, you know your eye makeup will be smudged which makes yet more tears appear, “Please, baby, I’m sorry, I’m so-”

“We’re here.” The Bentley shuts off, and it’s eerily quiet. You hear Steve take his seatbelt off, and shift in his seat so he’s facing you. You feel warmth as he bends over the console, and you gasp when you feel him kiss your clit before he gently pulls the underwear back over you, “Don’t take the blindfold off yet, princess, I’ll come around to get you, stay there.”

“Okay.”

You think you hear voices and doors opening, but you’re not sure. The passenger door opens, the smell of Steve’s cologne reaches you and you let him help you out of the car,

“Where have you taken me, Steve?”

“A new club. It’s not opening night yet but there’s some business happening here I need to attend.”

“Business?” Your steps falter as he takes you to the doors, “I-I thought I wasn’t allowed-”

“You don’t want to disappoint me, do you, princess?” Steve’s hand closes over the back of your neck, you can’t see him but he looms over you, “I’m giving you a second chance here, Y/N. Be a good girl and come with me.”

He takes your hand and you trail after him, letting him help you up some stairs, saying nothing as he takes the coat off of your shoulders and hands it to someone you can’t see, and you’re quiet as he leads you down a hallway. There’s noise, people talking, the smell of cigars and alcohol…

“Steve, can I take this blindfold off now, please?”

“In a minute, princess, it’s a surprise.”

“I like surprises.” You like the sweet ones Steve has given you, like when he took you to Fiji a few months ago on a moment's notice, but this was different. This wasn’t a surprise you thought you would enjoy. You breathe a little easier when the noise doesn’t change when you walk through the door. Maybe it’s an event where all the girlfriends are there and they’re all blindfolded, so it’s not conspicuous?

You almost trip as you reach stairs, and Steve doesn’t even try to lead you up them, he just picks you up and carries you. It’s not a lot of stairs, you think it’s maybe a stage, it’s warm and you can make out a lot of light even behind the blindfold,

“Can I take it off now?”

“One second.” Steve kisses you, his hand over your throat again… and then they drop to your wrists, something firm encased in something soft wrapping around them and clicking in place. Steve pulls the blindfold off just as the handcuffs lock in place and you blink in the sudden light, meeting Steve’s blue gaze in shock,

“Steve?”

“You cost me a million, princess. Now usually I might just shrug it off, but it wasn’t just my profit you killed when you lost me those drugs.” Steve keeps a hold of your wrists, and then steps to one side so you could see all the men in the crowd, “You lost these guys their money too, and they’re pissed.”

Your heart pounds behind your rib cage as you look out at all the people in the crowd. There are a few you recognise from Steve's club, and more you’ve never seen before. You’re in some kind of hall, almost like a theatre but smaller, and you’re on the stage in front of everyone, Steve at your side, smirking at the men and then staring dispassionately at you,

“A lot of them wanted to kill you, Y/N but I saved your life. All they want is your body, or, at least three of them will get a chance at it. I made it very clear that this isn’t a gangbang. I’m not taking you back if you fuck all of them.” Steve tightened his hold on your wrists, you think you can almost hear desperation in his voice as he whispers to you,

“You do this for me and it’s all forgiven. I’ll take you back to Fiji for a whole month. If you fight me on this… it’s still going to happen, princess, but I’ll throw you out. I got to know if I can trust you, so can I?”

You feel like you’re going to throw up. All these men are staring at you like you’re meat, but it’s Steve’s eyes you keep on looking back to,

“What do you mean only three?” You blink away tears, “I don’t want anyone but you.”

“I know, princess, but you have to let this happen, or they’ll just do it anyway and probably kill you.”

You don’t get to say anything else, something is attached to your bound wrists and then they’re raised over your head, leaving you bound and strung up in front of a crowd of men. Steve clears his throat, and turns his back on you, addressing the crowd leering at you,

“Here she is, guys. Now as agreed, there are some rules to this! Only three of you get a chance, and only with one of her holes at a time! I can’t get you back that money, but three of you will get the chance to take some of that frustration out on her pretty body! All of you were given a ticket with a number on it, so we’re going to have an old fashioned raffle!”

The men whooped and cheered at that, and you hang your head, only lifting it again when Steve sauntered over to you and stood at your back,

“Shall we take a look at what she’s got? At least you can all get an eyeful, even if some of you won’t be lucky enough to fuck her.” There’s laughter in the crowd, and then Steve undoes the tie on your dress, letting it fall open. You bite your lip when he then promptly pulls your bra up so your tits pop out, his hands go right to them, cupping them from behind, rolling your nipples between his fingers,

“I’m not offering up her tits for you to fuck today, but I don’t see why you can’t get a look. They’re perfect, right? Imagine what her mouth feels like wrapped around your dick.” Steve kisses one side of your neck, then grabs your chin and squeezes so your mouth puckers up, “My princess sucks cock like a pro, trust me.” Tears fall, but your cunt starts to throb regardless. You think you see some shame in Steve’s gaze, but then he abruptly lets you go and leaves you there, heading to the edge of the stage where an old fashioned looking raffle box has been wheeled out. Steve starts turning the handle, the contents inside whoosh gently and the hall goes quiet…

Steve puts his hand inside, pulls out a bit of paper, rolls his eyes, and then calls out,

“Ransom? Guess it’s your lucky day, pal.”

“Fuck!”

Your breathing picks up, your heart pounds painfully, and a whimper escapes you as you see the furious looking man storm his way up the stairs, his blue eyes staring daggers at you and a sneer on his face,

“I wanted this bitch’s cunt for what she did, she better be as good as you say, Rogers, or I’ll-”

You shriek, making a few of the faceless men in the crowd chuckle, but you can’t help it. You’d never seen Steve hit someone like that before, with his full force, the crack of knuckles against Ransom’s jawline was almost deafening. Steve hauls Ransom up by the scruff of his neck, growls words into his ear that you can’t quite make out, and then throws him towards you. Steve glances at you, then Ransom who is circling you like a vulture circles a carcass, and then addresses the crowd,

“Just to be clear here. You are all here on my invitation. Y/N is here by my order. This is my event to attempt to rebuild some bonds, but let's not get anything confused. Until I say otherwise, she is still mine and I make the fucking rules here. If any of you lay a hand on her or force something not previously agreed, I will blow your brains out and throw you in the river. That clear?”

You hear a murmur of assent go through the crowd, and then a voice pipes up from somewhere in the shadows,

“Stop ruining this for the rest of us, Ransom, you entitled asshole! Let the bitch suck your cock so we can get to the real good stuff!”

There’s more laughter at that, your face heats to an almost unbearable level, and you flinch slightly when Steve appears in front of you and reaches for your hands and lifts them from the hook, his words directed behind him,

“Ari is right, we got a long way to go, so let’s get on with it.” He whispers the next words to you, “I’m right here, princess, I won’t let him hurt you.”

You’re an idiot, but you trust him, in this much at least,

“Okay, Stevie.”

“Don’t pull out all your best moves though, Y/N, they’re still for me, right?”

“Yeah.” You smile weakly, and then sink down to your knees at his command, looking up nervously at the man called Ransom. He’s handsome, you suppose. He looks like a preppy jock, but there’s an off edge to him. He’s clearly wearing designer everything, his hair styled to within an inch of its life, and he reeks of cologne clearly picked for its price tag and not the combination of scents, but the more you look the more you see it. There’s a coldness in his eyes that even Steve doesn’t have. Whoever Ransom is, he scares you.

“Can I shove it down her throat now, or do I have to wait for you to bruise the other side of my face?”

“Keep talking, Drysdale, I’ll break your jaw instead.”

Steve stands behind you, his hands on your shoulders, and waits whilst Ransom grabs a chair and throws himself down on it, his legs spread obnoxiously wide, “Crawl to me, bitch.”

You look behind you at Steve who nods his permission, so you begin to crawl as gracefully as you can with your dress open and hands bound in front of you. Ransom grabs you as soon as you get close enough, dragging your face to his lap and ordering you to open his fly and pull him out of his trousers. He’s hard already, but he doesn’t impress you in the same way Steve does. Ransom is slightly longer, but not as thick, not as pretty, but he is certainly rougher, grabbing your jaw so your mouth opens and pushing you onto him so he hits the back of your throat immediately.

“Careful, Drysdale.”

“Shut the fuck up, Rogers.” Ransom moves your head up and down his length, taking control of the act immediately, “Ooof, she likes it, Rogers, you’re right, this bitch has a great tongue on her.”

Truthfully you couldn’t say you were enjoying it exactly, there were too many eyes on you, Ransom was hurting you, he didn’t taste as nice as Steve, and you hated that your man was at your back and had organised this as a way to punish you. You hated that you felt like maybe it was the only thing he felt that he could do because you were stupid, and he had probably saved your life by doing this.

You hated that you could feel yourself growing damp again as Ransom fucked your mouth in front of all these strangers and your boyfriend.

You cough as Ransom drags your face away, slapping one side of your cheek with his wet cock, and your breath catches when Steve sinks down behind you and lifts your skirt again. You don’t have a chance to try and ask what he’s doing when you feel his fingers at your cunt,

“You are wet, princess, you like having this smug, inheritance wasting jerks cock in your mouth, huh?” His fingers drift upwards to the plug in your ass and he taps it, making you moan, “You going to be like this with everyone, you whore?” He taps it again, just a little harder and you choke around Ransom’s cock, his fingers tighten on the back of your head,

“Do that again, Rogers, fuck- her throat is like a vice!”

Steve growls, but he does what he’s asked, laughing lowly when he taps the plug over and over, pushing you back and forth on Ransom until he holds your head still and fucks into your mouth sloppily,

“Gonna come-”

“Land that shit across her chest, I don’t want you coming in down her throat.”

“That wasn’t part of the deal-”

“Fine.” Steve drags you away, pulling you to your feet and hooking your arms back up, “Jerk off into your hand, you’re done.”

You can hear Ransom groaning behind you, but you’re too preoccupied with Steve who stands in front of you, wiping up the spit and pre-cum that’s all over your face, “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. Try not to come though, Princess, that’s still my job.”

“Y-yes, Stevie.” You meet his eyes, but they’re unreadable. You don’t think he is mad at you in the same way that he was, but there is a look in his eye that you don’t like, “It’s not really up to me though, is it?” You don’t know where the defiance comes from, you’re usually compliant and demure with him, he’s the big, scary mob boss and you’re the arm candy. Simple and easy to define.

Steve is the one who’s changed it all. He could’ve done anything but this to you, instead he’s chosen to parcel you out and humiliate you, and a big part of you wants to get through it with as much enjoyment as possible.

“You’re feeling brave, Y/N.”

“I’m feeling horny, Steve, that’s your fault, not mine.” You smile sweetly at him, and then yelp when he pulls you flush against him and walks you in a circle so he’s facing the crowd and your back is to them,

“My princess here tells me she wants more dick, guys!” There’s a cheer, and your face burns, especially when Steve yanks up your skirt past your waist and slaps your ass in front of them, “Next on the menu is her sweet cunt, and trust me when I say that she has the tightest and softest little pussy in the state, maybe the country.” Steve slaps your ass again, and then kicks your feet apart, moving to one side so he can pull you forwards at the waist just a little so your ass sticks out, “Now give me a cheer if you want to see what you’re all hoping to sink into!”

The roar is deafening, and a sob of humiliation, of desire, of fury escapes when you feel your underwear being ripped away leaving you completely exposed. The cheers morph into groans and whistles and lewd comments, especially when Steve sinks two fingers into you, spreading your slick over your folds, and parting them so they can see inside you,

“Ain’t she just perfect?” A slap just this side of painful lands on your clit, “As you can see, my princess is wetter than a rainforest down there, and she just told me she’s horny, so shall we go and see who’s going to get the pleasure of fucking her senseless?” Steve pauses, his fingers gliding back in and out of you almost absentmindedly, “Remember, get your rocks off as quickly or as slowly as you like, but don’t make the whore come, and don’t come inside of her.”

There’s a litany of ‘boo’s’ to that order, but Steve ignores them, and leaves you bent over whilst he heads back to the raffle box. Another round of spinning, more sounds of paper being mixed, followed by silence as Steve pulls a scrap out, laughs, and then calls out a name;

“Barber! It’s your lucky day!”

Oddly there’s more boo’s at this, and one man yells out something about ‘Barber not being able to get it up after Laurie’ which is met with laughter and yet more jeers. You hear heavy footsteps climb the steps, and then there’s silence as a tall presence stands at your back,

“You can stand up now.” You do as you’re told, only to jump when you see it wasn’t Steve that gave the order. The man in front of you is as tall as Steve, though slightly less muscular, he has thick brown hair and a beard that looks soft to the touch, you almost reach out to do so, but your arms are still over your head. You can’t help the flinch when Barber reaches out and gently squeezes one of your tits, an odd look on his face, quickly replaced with anger when Steve marches over and knocks his hand away,

“Not part of the rules, Andy, and you fucking know it.” Steve yanks your arms free, and holds you in front of him, “Where do you want her?”

“Table.” Apparently Andy Barber is a man of few words, he watches dispassionately as Steve lays you back against a table and spreads your legs,

“He’s my lawyer, princess, so squeeze his dick like he squeezes my goddamn wallet and I’ll buy you a diamond necklace.” Your lips tremble as he bends over you and gives you a quick kiss, and whispers against your mouth, “His wife died recently, it should be over quickly, sweetheart… I’m proud of you.”

Confusion, lust, anger, pride, it all wars inside you as Steve turns away and stands back, letting Andy step in between your legs, his eyes firmly on your cunt and his erection clearly visible in his slacks. His hands reach for your clit, and then he stops himself, turning an unamused glare on Steve,

“Can I touch her, or will you break my hand?”

“Yeah, make it good for her. Just don’t charge me for it.” Steve claps him on the shoulder, laughter in his voice. You stare at him, biting your lip to hold back a moan as Andy starts touching you, taking a minute to warm you up, his thumb on your clit and his fingers screwing in and out inside you. You’re at the precipice when he pulls out, and you let out an almost furious whine, you had been so close!

“Sorry, but I follow my clients directions on this one, honey.” Andy pulls out his cock - thicker than Steve’s, and very veiny, your mouth waters - he slaps it against your clit briefly, and then pushes his way inside you, inch by thick inch. He’s panting by the time he’s bottomed out, and you’re writhing on the table, keening and moaning, your hips rolling against him until he grabs them and pins you in place, “This is about me, so stay still!”

“Fuck me, already!” You lift yourself up, grabbing the lawyer by the tie and dragging him over you, “Please fuck me, please…”

“That’s what I’m trying to do-”

Steve appears above you and pulls your arms up and over your head, keeping a grip on the handcuffs. Andy huffs and rightens himself, a dusting of red on his cheeks as he slowly starts to thrust in and out of you,

“Your girl is a firecracker.”

“Yeah she is.” Steve casually starts plucking at your nipple, and Andy rubs your clit with his thumb, “How’re you liking her, Barber?”

“She’s hot.” His thrusts start to pick up, his hips rolling into you in a way that Steve had never done and driving you slightly insane, especially when he lifted your legs so they were on his shoulders, “You weren’t wrong about her being tight, either.”

Andy starts picking up his pace, and whilst it feels good, the way your legs are held means whilst it probably was perfect for Andy, it wasn’t hitting deep enough for you, the pleasure you were feeling was too far from ecstasy, and you start to beg Steve,

“Please, Stevie, please let Andy let me come, please, babe, please…”

“No.” A twist of your nipple that had you writhing, “Bad girls don’t get to come until I say, remember?”

“But I’m sorry!”

“You’re not so fucking sorry that you’re asking to cream all over some stranger’s dick though, are you?” Steve’s face, usually so handsome and usually bordering on angelic, looked almost monstrous to you, backlit by the lights, his eyes shining eerily. You moan when he grabs your chin and forces your mouth open, a trail for spit coming from his mouth to land in yours which he then makes you swallow, “Don’t forget who you fucking belong to, princess.”

“Stevie, please-”

“Fuck!” Andy starts pounding into you, chasing a release that you are successfully too far from to achieve, and then he pulls out, grunting as he comes across your pussy, “Wow. Thanks for the distraction.” Andy pats your cunt fondly, “Sorry it didn’t last longer, but if Rogers lets you go, come find me, okay?”

Steve almost shoves him down the steps, before turning back to you, a scowl still on his face as he grabs up wipes to clean you up,

“Don’t think you’re ever going to Barber over me.”

“Why shouldn’t I? You’re just going to dump me anyway. You’re letting your friends fuck me and getting mad about it, you’re like a child.” You get up, closing your dress around you petulantly and sneer at Steve, “So go on then, let the last one use me and be mad about it. See if I care.”

Steve growls, grabbing you by the upper arm, and throwing you face first over the table, making sure your ass is pointing to the cheering crowd. You turn your face away when he leans over you, his lips at your ear, “Be a brat all you want, this is your fault.”

“It wasn’t my fault that a cop was looking into you!”

“This isn’t my fault, either!” Steve yanks your skirt off of you completely, “These guys wanted to kill you, you should be thanking me that this is all you have to go through!”

“Fuck you!” Tears leak from your eyes, you know what’s next and you’re dreading it, “Just get on with it.” You feel Steve hesitate at your back, and then he moves away,

“Last chance now, guys! Keep that ticket handy!” His hands land on your cheeks, spreading them wide so the plug in your ass comes into view, “Now my princess here hasn’t ever had her cute ass fucked, she’s been too shy about it. Sure, she’s into a little tongue and finger action, and I’ve got that tight hole trained enough to take a plug, but a dick? That’s going to be painful, so I’m going to ask that whoever is lucky enough to fuck her in a few minutes, be nice.”

There’s too much laughter at this request, you force your sobs down, especially when you feel Steve take a grip on the plug and start to pull it out, “Shhh, princess, relax.”

“I d-don’t want to do this, Steve, please…” His warm hand covers your cunt, and you feel his wet tongue at your back passage, a shock of pleasure goes through you and you gasp,

“Good girl… you were getting too dry.”

Steve leaves again before you can say anything, and you hear that rustle of paper once more, then silence… then a name is choked out through gritted teeth,

“Lloyd Hansen.”

“Fuck yes!”

Steve immediately comes around to meet your eyes, his hands cupping your face, “I really hoped you’d get anyone else for this part, princess, I’m sorry, please forgive me later.”

“What? Steve-”

A hand smacks your ass so hard the table moves forward a couple of inches, the breath is knocked from you, the pain almost too intense for you to breathe. Steve leaves your field of vision, and you hear angry shouting from behind you, before another slap is levelled at your ass,

“Fuck you, Rogers, this bitch cost me a lot of money, and I’m eager to ream that ass to make up for it, okay? Your rules don’t mean dick to me.”

“Does your dick mean dick to you? Because I’ll cut it off if you hit her again, Hansen.”

“Oh yeah? What the fuck are you gonna do if I do this then?” The man suddenly shoves what feels like two fingers inside you, and you yell out in pain,

“Please stop, please!”

“That’s right, little whore, beg daddy Lloyd.” He spins you around so you’re on your back, and you get your first look at him, trying not to recoil and make him angrier. Lloyd leered at you, he could be handsome if it weren’t for the moustache on his upper lip, “You want this over quickly?”

“Y-yes.”

“Then bend yourself back over, and let me start drilling, sweetheart. It’s gonna hurt, but that’s what happens when you fuck with a man’s money, and I’m not allowed to beat you, so this is where we’re at, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Okay what?” Lloyd grabs you by the neck, “Okay what, little whore?”

“O-okay- okay, daddy.”

“Good girl.” You just meet Steve’s eyes when Lloyd throws you back face down on the table, another slap is landed on your ass, though it’s much less aggressive this time, spit lands on your back passage and without any further preamble, Lloyd starts to push his way inside your ass.

You have to bite your lip at how painful it is, Lloyd is clearly built long and thick and it hurts to have him stuff himself inside you, especially as he really doesn’t seem to care how good you are or aren’t feeling. Sobs build up in your throat, tear leak from your eyes, and that’s when Steve appears back in front of you,

“You’re doing really well, princess.”

“It h-hurts- oh!” Lloyd pulls out, and then pushes back in, the pain morphs into something almost pleasurable, “I wish this had been you, Stevie.”

“I wish it had been too. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop this.”

Lloyd laughs at your back, “Oh god, this is making me soft, and I’m enjoying myself far too much to want to cut this short.” He drags more pain and pleasure from you, “Just so you know, dummy, this guys absolutely could’ve stopped this by paying us back, but he was too cheap for that, so instead he offered you on a platter. Like any of us really gave a shit about what you said, you’re just a mistress, you don’t know fuck all about anything.”

Lloyd’s thrusts pick up, and you feel the blood drain from your face, “Is that true?”

Steve can only stare blankly at you, confirming what Lloyd is saying, “Princess… you betrayed me, sweetheart.”

“I didn’t know!”

“You were flirting with that guy. Now you’ll never do it again.” Steve takes a hold of your hands, pulling them out in front of you, and his eyes go over your shoulder to Lloyd who is still idly fucking your ass, “Hurry the fuck up, I have an island to take my girl to. She won’t be flirting with any more cops there.” You can hear Lloyd laugh evilly,

“Why would I help you out with that? Maybe I want to keep the dumb bitch, this ass is the best one I’ve fucked in years.” Lloyd leans over you, “Say the word, baby, I’ll get you outta here, you can come stay in my bed, would you like that?”

Before you can say anything, Lloyd pulls out of you and drags you to your knees in front of him, coming loudly across your face and chest, ignoring Steve’s curses completely.

Lloyd laughs as Steve shoves him away, “Hey, this was your idea, asshole- oh wait, that’s probably a sore spot, isn’t it?” Lloyd grins at you as you wipe yourself off, “A very sore spot, amirite, dummy?”

“This is over now, you understand me?” Steve grabs your upper arm and pulls you towards the back, throwing his last words over his shoulder, “I hope you all enjoyed the show.”

You barely hear the scraping of chairs and murmurs of departing voices before Steve pushes you against a wall, his hand at your throat and the other in between your legs,

“You liked those men fucking you?”

“You don’t think it counts as betrayal?” You gasp as he slides two fingers inside you, “You basically sold me to them!”

“I got off on it, princess.” He hikes your leg up around his waist, “I’m gonna fuck you now, better than any of them, you’re mine, and you always will be.”

He pushes into you then on a groan, his lips at your ear, bruises form immediately at the strength of them along your back,

“Did you mean it when you said you’d take me to an island?”

“You’re too precious to me to let anyone near you again.”

You reach up and grab Steve’s throat in return, “You’re an asshole. I want a diamond ring.”

“Done.”

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