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#chris evans short story
callmissrogers · 17 days
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She Thinks I'm Handsome. Steve Rogers x Reader Short Story
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Summary: Y/n is terribly tipsy. Having only had one margarita, Nat texted Steve to come take her home. Y/n's tipsiness makes her admit something to Steve. Something she didn't mean to say out loud.
Warnings: mentions alcohol, reader being tipsy, and lots of fluff. Wrote on my phone with little editing.
Word count: 1,034
Inspired by: pin and a scene in the movie New In Town with Rene Zellweger, but I couldn't find it on YouTube.
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Y/n couldn't stop giggling at the dinner table. Everything was just hilarious.
"Y/n you only had one margarita.... Are you sure you're ok?" Nat asked, sitting back in her chair, eyes wide with concern.
"I'm mine. I mean time. I MEAN I'm fine." Y/n replied, giggling at her own inability to speak coherently.
"Yeah. Sure you are. I told you this was a terrible idea." Nat whispered to Wanda.
"She told me she wanted to come! Besides, how is it my fault that she's a lightweight?" Wanda argued as if Y/n wasn't sitting right there.
"I am not a lightweight! I'm good." Y/n protested like a child not getting the sweets it wanted.
"Of course you are. You definitely aren't talking like someone who's done 20 wisky shots." Nat answered sarcastically.
"What are we gonna do? My car only has two seats. Unless we tape you to the roof." Wanda asked in a whisper. "I've got an idea." Natasha said conspiratorially, taking her phone out. "Who are you texting?" Wanda asked, an eyebrow rasing. "You know who," Nat said in a sing-song way. "You can not text him!" "Why not? They need a push." "She's about to fall over. " "Good. Let him play knight in shiny armor." "You know this wasn't I meant when I said we should set them up." "Well, it's what we're doing. He already responded and said he's on his way. Way too much of a gentlemen to abandon a maid in distress." "You are having way too much fun with this." Wanda sighed, leaning on her hand.
A few minutes later, y/n was trying to explain something to the girls, grabbing random bits and pieces of information and giving it to them as of it should all make sense.
The door to the cozy little restaurant opened and he walked inside. Spotting them easily and coming over to collect Y/n. Her back was to him so she had no idea of his presence.
Nat and Wanda remained completely silent as he approached giving him knowing and teasing looks. Nat mouthed "get her out" to which he couldn't help but smile.
It wasn't till he placed a gentle hand on y/n's shoulder that she noticed him at all.
"Steve!" She gasped much too loudly and drawing the attention of some of the other guests. "I didn't think you'd be here!" She said wobbling to her feet and throwing her arms around his neck. She'd never done that before. They've never exchanged any sort of hug before. So he shot the other two a look of complet and utter shock as his face turned three shades of pink.
"How much did y'all let her drink?" He demanded. "Steve. She had one margarita." Wanda deadpanned. Steve looked at Y/N and back to them, his brows raised in amazement. "Just one?" He asked. "One. And it wasn't even that big." Nat replied, lips forming into a smirk. "Wanda only has two seats in her car, and I road with her. So I figured you'd be happy to get Y/n home safely." She continued.
Steve put an arm around Y/n's shoulder in an attempt to steady her, grabbing her coat off the back of the chair, he said "c'mon. Let's get you home." "But I don't wanna!" She complained. "Y/n, you should go with Steve. We're gonna head out too." Wanda assured her. "Fine." She whispered/mumbled letting him guide her out.
Once they were outside the resturant she looked around wildly. "Where's your car?" "It's down the block. I couldn't find a spot here." "Oh. Where's my coat?" "That's right here." He answered holding it up to help her get into it. "Watch your hands. Mr Handys Hands." She slurred. "I'm. I'm not doing anything." Steve said blushing again.
She took a few steps forward and then stumbled into the street some. "Wait, wait, wait. My car isn't over there, " He spoke, quickly pulling her back.
"I'm fine. I'm fine." She assured him, walking along again, taking wobbly but somewhat straight steps.
Steve rubbed the back of his neck nervously and followed after her.
"Ok," He said after they had walked just a little bit further. "My car is right there"
Then she dashed up to a car that somewhat resembled his and started rapidly pulling on the handle causing the car alarm to go off.
"That. That wasn't my car." Steve said sounding embarrassed.
He used his key for, unlocked his car, before softly grabbing her by the arm and getting her seated inside. Taking a deep breath before coming round to get himself. He was gonna get Natasha for this. She had been teasing him about his growing affection for Y/n for months. She was trying to push his hand.
The drive home wasn't as crazy as the walk to the car had been. Y/n sat starring out the window commenting on the pretty city lights, how she liked the outfits of some of the pedestrians they passed, and got very excited when they stopped next to a car which had a Scottish Terrier in it.
He couldn't help smiling he was actually enjoying the drive with her.
When they finally pulled up to her house, he got out and came around to help her out. Not trusting that she'd be able to get out of the car and onto the curb without tripping.
Arm around her shoulder, he helped her to the door. Where she struggled to get the key into the lock. "Here," He said trying to take the key from her. "I got it. I got it." She said trying again to get the key go in. "Let me help." He said gentily taking it from her.
She finally looked up at up him and whispered "Gosh. You're handsome," pausing, her lips forming an O shape. "I just said that out loud, didn't I?"
Steve smiled broadly, "Yes. Yes, you did."
So he helped her inside and made sure she was settled with a glass of water and aspirin for the morning and then went home himself.
Whispering to himself, "She thinks I'm handsome."
(I know I haven't posted the next part in That's My Girl. Got a bit of writers block as to how to finish the chapter. I'll try to have it done by Wednesday. )
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freedomfireflies · 2 years
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Insatiable | 2. Sparks Fly (Dylan & Kingsley & Chris)*
Summary: What do you get when you give Dylan, Chris, and Kingsley jumper cables as nipple clamps?
Well...a very dented Lamborghini.
Word Count: 9.2k (listen, can you blame me?)
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"Are you even pushing?"
"Of course I'm fucking pushing, are you pushing?"
"Yes, I'm pushing but it's not fucking moving."
Aggravated, Kingsley rolls her eyes as she and Dylan struggle to push her tired, old car towards Chris's mechanic's shop.
He's already waiting for them, leaning against the garage door, arms crossed and smirking as he watches his two friends bicker.
He could probably go help them but... truth be told, it's much more amusing this way.
They continue grumbling as they shove the hunk of junk towards the shop, slowly but surely, and once they got close enough, Chris steps up to investigate, laughing at their tired and aggravated faces. 
"What's the damage?" he calls as Kingsley huffs her way to a stop.
"Flat tire, engine won't start, and just overall a piece of shit," she tells him before glaring at the car. "And while you're at it, can you fix Dylan, too?"
Dylan scoffs and sends her a sour look while Chris just smirks. "I can help with the car, but as far as Dylan goes, I think you're better off just getting a new one."
"Fuck. You. Both," Dylan grunts before leaning on the hood of the car, while Kingsley sticks her tongue out at him.
Chris shakes his head at the two before crouching down to inspect the car, eyeing it carefully and with precision. "Dylan, can you go grab the air compressor? It's on the left. Next to Arthur's office."
Dylan lifts himself off the hood and drags himself into the garage, eyes raking over the different tools and parts until he finds the rather large item.
He picks it up off the floor and gets ready to turn around when he notices something that catches his eye.
There had already been a car parked inside the shop, which is why they couldn't roll Kingsley's car all the way inside, but Dylan hadn't really paid it much attention.
It was covered by a large tarp and didn't really attract much focus but as Dylan is getting ready to pass it, he notices that the front bumper is uncovered.
Stepping closer to investigate, he identifies a very familiar emblem that immediately has his heart racing.
Lamborghini.
His eyes widen as he sets the air compressor down, grabbing the edge of the tarp and flinging it over the rest of the car.
Holy fucking shit, he thinks as he takes in the magnificent vehicle.
A 1971 Lamborghini Miura. A rare 1971 Lamborghini Miura.
Dylan can hardly believe it, his eyes unable to focus on just one thing as he takes in the glorious ride. 
It's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen in his life and that's including the time he got to ride in an actual DeLorean from the Back To The Future movies.
What it's doing in Chris's shop, Dylan has no idea, but his wonder filled gaze slowly turns to his friends who are still waiting just outside the garage.
"What the fuck is this doing here?" he calls, voice loud so it carries.
Both Chris and Kingsley turn to look, Kingsley confused by Dylan's new excitement, while Chris just laughs knowingly. 
"That's Arthur's," he explains while Dylan looks back at the car. "Got it as a gift a couple weeks ago and we're working on restoring it."
Dylan's jaw practically drops as he finally bends down to grab the air compressor once again and bring it outside.
"So... does that mean there's a chance he'll let me drive it?" Dylan asks hopefully while Kingsley smirks.
"You?" she taunts as Chris motions for Dylan to bring the compressor over to the flat tire. "No way in hell."
Dylan passes off the machine to Chris before turning to her. "I don't know where I got this reputation for being a shitty driver but it's not true."
"You crashed into a light pole," she reminds him.
"Crashed into the McDonalds drive through," Chris adds.
"You even crashed into a parked car," Kingsley finishes. "I mean... how did you even get a license?"
The truth is, Dylan aced his driving test. The written and the physical. It wasn't that he didn't know how to drive... he just liked to go fast, and who could blame him?
"Fuck you," he retorts. "You're just jealous cause I get to drive a Lambo and you don't."
Chris just shakes his head as the two begin their bickering before kneeling down by the tire to begin filling it with air.
It's a hot summer day, the sun now beating down on the three friends as they work on the crappy car. Well... as Chris works on it, and Kingsley and Dylan lazily wait for him. There's not a lot to do in Boston in the summer, except find air conditioning, and that's the only thing on Kingsley's mind.
Tired from just standing there, she stoops down so she can sit on top of the air compressor and rest until Chris's finished with his work.
The machine has a slight vibration to it, but she hardly notices, instead more focused on the fact that she doesn't have to stand any longer.
Chris, however, is finding the tire to be difficult to work with and with a huff, turns up the power in hopes that more air will help.
The machine starts to vibrate at a much greater power and now Kingsley begins to notice the movement beneath her. 
Subconsciously, her eyes widen as the tingles spread up through her body, and she clears her throat as if that'll somehow calm her down.
But the vibrations aren't stopping and the more aggressive they get, the more distracted Kingsley becomes.
Slowly, she pulls her propped up legs together in hopes that it'll aid in the feeling beginning to form in the pit of her stomach.
Unfortunately for her, though, it only seems to make it worse, as the shorts she had decided to wear today seem to be working against her, the seams adding friction in the very place she doesn't want it.
She should stand up. That's the obvious solution to her problem. She can stand up, and the feeling will go away, and everything will be fine.
So why isn't she standing up?
Her brain is telling her to do just that but yet her legs don't move. They keep her right there, sitting on top of that air compressor as it continues to worsen the torture.
But that's just it.
She likes the torture.
And what's so wrong with that? After all, it's a harmless vibration and all she's doing is sitting... it's not like she's breaking any rules. So, what's the problem?
The problem is that it's beginning to feel too good, her eyes flickering shut and legs squeezing together so hard she's sure she'll pop a blood vessel.
As long as Chris hurries up and finishes with the tire and they move on to something else, she'll be just fine, and can pretend like this never happened.
But Dylan can't pretend.
Dylan can't pretend like he hasn't noticed her beginning to squirm or that he didn't see her snap her legs shut.
He hadn't been sure but the second he saw her take a shaky breath and close her eyes... he knew.
And he can't look away. Can't look at anything else except the way she's digging her nails into her arms and biting at her lip to keep any sounds from coming out.
It feels forbidden to watch her like this. Feels strange to enjoy it.
But he does. He enjoys every second of the struggle she's putting herself through. Every second of the way she's teasing herself and the way he gets to witness it.
Is Chris doing this on purpose? he wonders to himself, glancing over at their friend, whose focus remains on the tire.
He can't possibly know what she's doing. He hasn't looked over at either of them since he started and yet he continues to increase the level of power in the air compressor, forcing Kinglsey to work that much harder at containing herself.
It's incredibly intriguing to see her suffer like this, almost entertaining, and he wonders if she realizes he's watching.
Dylan bets if she did realize... she'd love it. He imagines she loves to be watched and admired. After all, why else would she be so willing to do this only two feet away from her friends?
Finally, Chris powers the machine down and begins to stand back up to his feet, indicating he's finished with the tire while Kingsley quickly scrambles to her feet as well, a very hazy expression on her face.
Dylan simply crosses his arms and leans against the car as he looks her over, amused that she doesn't even notice he's looking at her. But she can't seem to look at anything else except the dirt under her shoes.
Sly little slut, he smirks to himself. She could act as innocent as she wanted, but now Dylan knew better.
"Alright, that should do it," Chris declares as he reaches down to pick the air compressor up.
Kingsley backs away from it, cheeks heating up as she watches him grab the machine and begin carrying it back into the garage.
Now that the moment has passed, she begins to relax, exhaling a deep breath as she watches Chris collect a few things from his shop.
"Feeling better?" a voice suddenly murmurs behind her and she nearly jumps out of her skin as she whirls around and sees Dylan.
He's got that arrogant look on his face as he studies her and her hand rests over her rapidly beating heart.
"Uh... yeah, I guess?" she replies with a sigh, assuming he's referring to her newly fixed tire.
However, his head only tilts. "Are you alright? You seem a little... on edge."
Her face begins to flush as she averts his gaze, shrugging casually. "No, I'm fine."
"Are you sure?" he pushes, now stepping closer, and making her eyes widen. "Couldn't help but notice that you're looking a little flustered."
I'm gonna kill him, she thinks to herself before shrugging again. "No, it's just kind of hot out."
His smile grows at her horrible lie before he leans closer, his lips ghosting her ear as he whispers, "Do you really think I don't know what you were doing?"
Her jaw nearly drops once she realizes what he means but doesn't get the chance to scold him or ask any questions as Chris begins strolling back over, forcing the two to act casual.
Chris notices the odd expressions on his friends faces and raises a brow, looking between them. "Did I miss something?"
Kingsley is quick to shake her head, hoping that Dylan will do the same, but of course... he just grins.
"Actually, you did," he answers casually, grabbing at Kinsgley's waist the moment she tries to walk away.
He keeps her planted firm in front of him, his head leaning to the side so he can peer over her shoulder.
"Would you like to tell him? Or should I?" Dylan hums in her ear, eyes flicking up to Chris's face.
She begins to grit her teeth together, now incredibly annoyed with Dylan's condescending attitude, and need to always be in control.
And who is she to let him have control over her? 
"You missed me sitting on the air compressor and nearly coming in my fucking shorts," she says bluntly, eyes fixed on Chris's.
Both boys are surprised by this confession, Dylan rather shocked she admitted it herself while Chris is shocked to learn it had happened at all.
But Kingsley simply stands her ground, expression flat as looks over her shoulder at Dylan. "Happy?"
Dylan's amused smile only grows. "Delighted."
She rolls her eyes in response before they both look to Chris, who still hasn't said anything.
She begins to feel a little bad that her innocent friend is now caught in the middle of their game. After all, he doesn't seem to be a very sexual guy, at least not that she's ever seen. He's shy, quiet, and from what she can tell, gets embarrassed just from looking at a girl.
She offers him an apologetic smile in hopes that they'll be able to just change the subject and Chris steps closer.
"Wow," he finally muses, looking between the two, and she anxiously waits for him to scold them. "Well then guess it's a shame I didn't let you finish, hm?"
A silence falls over the group as Kingsley's eyes nearly pop out of her head.
That was the last thing she had expected him to say but Dylan isn't surprised. He'd always figured there was more to their shy friend then they knew.
And he's happy to discover he was right.
His fingers get a little tighter around Kingsley's waist as he dips his head down again. "It is a shame, isn't it?"
She can feel her heart rate picking up as Chris takes another step closer to them, his eyes beginning to darken in a way she's never seen before.
Dylan's grip is relentless, even when she begins to squirm from the tension forming between the three of them, and she begins to mentally curse him to hell.
"I don't think it's fair we leave you like this," Chris adds, now so close, she can see the specks of green in his eyes. "And we're not cruel... are we, Dylan?"
Dylan can't wipe the look of smug superiority off his face as runs his tongue over his bottom lip. "Not unless we have to be."
Both boys are watching Kingsley closely, her eyelids fluttering as the pressure begins to build.
She wants to say something, wants to speak up... but she can't seem to. Not with them looking at her like this, not with them taunting her, teasing her.
She might have been able to if it was just Dylan... but Chris's looming presence, his broad shoulders, and lustful expression are throwing her off.
She's never witnessed him like this before and she's more than intrigued, wanting to know how far he'll go, and hoping if she stays quiet, she'll find out.
Thankfully, this plan seems to work in her favor as Chris closes the distance between them and reaches up to run his thumb down her bottom lip, pulling at it as he watches.
"Should we leave you like this?" he asks, his tone silky but deep. "Leave you a squirming, pathetic mess?"
Dylan can barely contain his glee as Kingsley's eyes grow wider, filled with wonder as she breathlessly looks up at the man before her.
She can only shake her head, the words still stuck in her throat, but Chris doesn't mind. 
He smiles at the gesture, loving the way she's practically shaking under his simple touch.
He wonders how far he can push her, how well she'll behave.
How well they both will.
For a brief moment, he has to pause, reminding himself to go slow. He can't let himself go too dark because if he does... he might not be able to pull back.
But here they are in front of him, practically begging him to take control, and he can't find the willpower to say no.
"I think he asked you a fucking question," Dylan's low tone rings in Kingsley's ear, his lips brushing her neck. 
Chris smirks at this, gaze trained on Kingsley as she slowly swallows. 
"Please," is all she mumbles, practically in pain, and both boys seem to be satisfied with this.
Dylan and Chris lock eyes, eager to get started, and Chris finally offers her a smile.
His hand moves from her lip and down her arm where he grabs her palm between his fingers and begins pulling her forwards. "Let's go inside," is all he says before leading her into the garage.
Dylan is right behind, hands shoved in his pockets as he watches the two of them, the anticipation growing.
The three of them come to a stop just in front of the Lamborghini and Dylan's interest is peaked as Chris begins to smirk at him.
"Sit down," he instructs Dylan, who just raises his eyebrows.
But, nevertheless, Dylan does as he's told, moving to the hood of the rare car before leaning back against it.
Now, Chris looks down at the mesmerized girl in front of him, letting go of her hand as he nods his chin towards Dylan. "I want you to sit between his legs, okay?"
Nodding quickly, Kingsley gently takes a couple steps back, her eyes still on his as if waiting for his approval. 
Dylan scoots back on the hood and grabs her hips to help adjust her, pulling her back until she's pressed right up against his chest.
Satisfied, Chris looks at the sight in front of him, Dylan's hands resting on her thighs, while Kinglsey anxiously bites her lip.
Stepping closer and crouching down, Chris's palms begin to smooth up her legs, watching the way her eyelids flutter at the feeling.
He brings them up to her thighs, ever so slowly, and she has to hold back a satisfied sigh from his touch. 
His fingers move to the button of her jean shorts before he undoes them and begins pulling them down her legs, swiftly discarding of them.
Kingsley can't contain her wonder as she looks down at him from between her legs and he doesn't dare look away from her, either.
He likes that he has her attention, likes that she's desperate for him, and likes that there's power in their eye contact alone.
"Show me how soaked you are," he demands, his voice about two octaves deeper.
Dylan's head tilts as he looks over her shoulder, watching as she slowly brings her hand between her thighs, and grabs the lace of her underwear.
Pulling it to the side, her eyes flutter, the cool air adding another sensation to her already sensitive skin.
Chris's gaze moves down, taking in the magnificent sight in front of him, and he can feel his jaw clench.
She feels his fingers digging a little deeper into her thighs, maybe in an attempt to ground himself, and the pain makes her gasp.
His eyes flicker back up at this sound, now desperate to hear more before he looks towards Dylan. "Hold her open."
Gladly, Dylan wraps his hands around the top of her thighs, forcing her legs open. 
Breathlessly, she begins leaning against him a little harder, but he doesn't mind or even notice. He only watches Chris, eager to see what he has in mind.
"You wanted to get yourself off," Chris now says to Kinglsey, whose heart is pounding inside her chest. "Wanted to do it right in front of us, yeah? So do it."
Her pupils get a little wider at this request, feeling the way Dylan's grip tightens around her legs, and Chris continues to stay crouched below her.
She wants to beg him to touch her, not to make her do it herself, but the way those blue eyes drill through her... she can feel what it does to her willpower.
She does like to be watched and to be watched by him, the way he is now... she doesn't waste another moment. 
With one hand holding her panties to the side, she uses her other to feel her soaked little hole.
The slight contact is enough to have her whimpering, the buildup of tension almost unbearable. Just feeling how worked up she is, how wet, how fucking needy... well that's reward enough.
She drags her fingers through her soaked folds, teasing her clit for a moment as she squirms against the hood, trying to squeeze her legs shut.
But Dylan is much stronger, forcing them even further apart as he tsks in her ear disapprovingly.
At the same time, Chris's head tilts, his expression disappointed as he raises an eyebrow.
"You know better than that," he warns. "Are you gonna be good?"
Panting, she flicks her clit, causing her to gasp again instead of answer.
"You heard him," Dylan adds, his tone almost threatening.
She cusses under her breath as the pleasure begins to build, wondering how they expect her to think, let alone actually answer.
"You will," Chris finally decides for her. "You will because if you don't, we don't let you cum."
The worst possible punishment, especially with the way she's feeling right now, and all she can do is look at him through hazy eyes, practically begging him to go easy on her.
But that was never his plan, and he simply looks right back, unrelenting and she whines.
She continues touching her soaked cunt, her fingers teasing her dripping hole as her body begs her for that feeling. The feeling of being full, of being fucked, of being abused.
She lets one finger slide in but it's not nearly enough and when she finally slips in a second, she feels Dylan's hands dig deeper into her skin.
His lips graze her exposed shoulder, moving up to her neck as he kisses where he can reach, and she sighs at the feeling.
And Chris watches. Watches the two of them, the slight sting of jealousy beginning to nip at him, but he doesn't acknowledge it. 
No, instead, he wants to see how far they'll go. How well they'll obey him.
And there's something mesmerizing about watching Dylan hold her open, kiss her, bite at her skin.
He can tell he's getting hard just from the sight and it's painful but it's so fucking good. 
They watch as she adds a third finger, filling herself until she's squirming even harder, the sound of her soaked fingers practically music to their ears.
But she needs more, and Chris stands by the statement that he isn't cruel, so his eyes flick up to Dylan.
"Help her out," he instructs to which Dylan grins.
His large hand releases her thigh before coming up to her desperate clit, pinching it between his fingers as she drops her head back onto his shoulder.
"Don't fucking move," he hisses but she couldn't stop even if she tried. The sensation is much too powerful and she's much too sensitive to ever be able to stop.
And Dylan is determined to force her to take as much pleasure as he can, playing with her clit like it's nothing but a toy, pinching it, pressing it, and then telling her to suck his fingers before he does it again.
It's wonderful to watch but Chris isn't done, instead eyeing the two before adding, "Feel her. Fucking stretch her out for me."
Knowing just what he means, Dylan happily obliges, moving his fingers down besides hers as they both slide them inside her dripping cunt.
It's almost too much but the pain of being stretched is too good and she whimpers when she feels it.
Her back arches and she tries to close her legs again, but Chris is quick to make sure she can't, raising that same eyebrow as a warning.
She decides right then and there that they were wrong, they are cruel, and she doesn't know how much longer she can stand it. Not with Dylan pumping her so slowly. Not with Chris pressing a kiss to her inner thigh and teasing her with what might have been. And not with the way she's forced to keep going.
Chris almost feels bad for her until he notices the way her nipples are straining against her tiny tank top. He wonders if she wore that on purpose, just for him, just for him to see her.
And if that's what she wanted, then he might as well give it to her, reaching up to grab the neckline before ripping it down, exposing her aching tits.
She gasps at the aggression and then at the way the air hits her, the noise turning to a moan as she continues to squirm against Dylan, who still doesn't budge.
And Dylan lets himself admire her, looking down at the sweet flesh before him, a little upset he can't touch it, tease it, lick it. He'd love to get her nipple between his teeth, would love to see her whimper for him, or feel her pulling his hair.
But something else might have to do for now, and the second he sees it, that mischievous grin is back.
Chris notices his change in expression and gives him a quizzical look, but Kingsley doesn't notice either one of them as she continues abusing her tight hole and soaking both their fingers.
Dylan nods towards the object as Chris glances over his shoulder to see.
And when he sees it, his own grin appears. 
Standing up, he walks over to retrieve it, wondering if maybe this will be too much, but deciding he'll let Kingsley decide.
At the loss of his hand, Kingsley's eyes flicker open as she watches him walk back over, her gaze falling over the items in his hands.
Surprised, she looks back up at him, but he just gives her a reassuring smile. "Do you think you can take it?"
The rhythm of her hands begins to slow as she considers it, debating just how much she's comfortable with.
But she can't deny she's intrigued, and she knows if she should trust anyone with it, it's Dylan and Chris.
So, she nods ever so slightly. "Yes," she forces herself to reply verbally, although her voice is barely a whisper.
"That's our girl," Dylan smirks to himself and Chris has to agree.
Nervous, but incredibly turned on, Kingsley watches as Chris holds the jumper cables, one in each hand before sparking them together. Little flecks of light fly out from the contact, falling onto the ground, and disappearing. They make a very electric sound as they're struck together, and her eyes get even wider, but Chris just breathes out a laugh. 
"Don't worry, baby, the power is on the lowest setting," he assures before crouching down beneath her again, his expression hardening. "Are you sure you're okay?"
She nods quickly, the idea new but enthralling, and she knows he wouldn't put her in any danger.
Besides, she thinks. They're basically just... fancier nipple clamps.
That doesn't really make it any better, but she couldn't care less, instead focused on the way Chris holds them in his hands and gets closer.
"Attagirl, stay still," he commands before gently placing the clamps around her hardened nipples.
Instantly, she sucks in a sharp breath, her eyes nearly rolling back as he squeezes the handles to make sure they're on just right.
He was right, there doesn't seem to be any power in them, but that isn't her concern right now. The sensation is one she's not used to but it's making her ache like she never has before.
And Dylan can tell, continuing to finger fuck her the way he had been, but she doesn't join in, still breathless from the jumper cables, so he whispers, "Did he say you could fucking stop?"
She shakes her head briefly before resuming the pace, but she knows it's useless, she can't hold out much longer even though she wants to.
But she does her best, struggling to do that and hold her panties to the side, and she can feel her body growing weaker as the pleasure courses through it.
And she's doing such a good job, that Chris thinks it's only fair to turn up the heat, so to speak. 
So, reaching for the power source, he gently adjusts the dial and Kingsley's back arches as she moans with ecstasy. 
It's not a painful feeling, rather a sharp sting, but it feels so fucking good. She can't really understand it herself but it's exactly what she needs, her body unable to hold off on the pleasure any longer.
She writhes against Dylan's chest, whimpering pitifully as the feeling overpowers her, but he doesn't stop. He holds her open with one hand and fucks her with the other, mercilessly. 
And it's Chris's new favorite thing; watching her cum. He wants to watch it on a loop, over and over and over again.
Her sweaty body, her glistening skin, the way her chest heaves up and down. It's addicting and he decides he needs to see it again. Needs to hear it again. Needs it.
He stands back up to his feet and places his hand under her jaw, forcing her head up as she wearily looks at him. "So fucking good for us, aren't you?"
She nods, unable to do anything else, and Dylan laughs to himself.
"I know, baby. Gonna do exactly what I say, aren't you?" Chris adds next and her heart begins to thump before she nods again.
He lets go of her jaw and takes the jumper cables in his hand, taking them off and tossing them to the ground, while the other two slowly get down off the hood.
Her tits are now a deep red, her nipples still swollen and hard, but still so fucking beautiful and he can't help but admire them for a moment.
Then, he looks to Dylan. "You're gonna fuck her."
It's not a question or a suggestion and Dylan's eyebrows raise as he looks at him.
"You're gonna fuck her on the hood of this car and I'm gonna watch," Chris continues before looking to Kingsley. "I'm gonna watch him ruin this tight little pussy and I'm gonna watch you fucking take it."
His demand goes straight to her aching cunt, her mind hazy as she can finally squeeze her legs together now that Dylan has let go.
But Dylan doesn't release her for very long, now reaching over her shoulder to wrap his hand around her throat, adding some ever so slight pressure.
Then, with his nose pressed to her cheek, he inhales and whispers, "Say please."
She's breathless as Chris watches them, amused by Dylan's little show.
"Come on," Dylan urges. "Beg me to fuck you."
"Please," she whispers back quickly. "Please."
"Please what?"
"Please fuck me," she corrects. "Please, Dylan."
She never thought in a million years that she'd be moaning Dylan's name but there's a first time for everything. 
And Dylan is fucking thrilled to hear it. To hear his name on her lips and he grins at the sound.
Then, he spins them both around and pushes her down, her exposed tits pressed against the metal of the hood.
Her head spins at his animalistic behavior but can't help loving it, even if she shouldn't.
He doesn't waste any time in dropping his own jeans and pulling out his cock, fisting it a few times before ripping the delicate lace panties down her legs.
With her cheek against the car, she takes a deep breath as she feels him tease her, the feeling of his hard tip alone sending a shiver along her spine.
Bending her over the hood of a Lamborghini and fucking her senseless has to be Dylan's greatest accomplishment and he wonders how anything will ever compare.
But that's a problem for a later day, his focus now on the beautiful sight in front of him, grabbing at her hips as he lines himself up.
Her hands ball into fits as she feels him, her jaw dropping at the sensation, and the way even stretched, it's still overwhelming.
She whimpers when he stills, knowing it won't be for long, but wanting to scream at him to move so she can feel him.
Eventually, he does, pulling back so he can thrust into her again, a rather easy task to do with the way she's dripping down her thighs.
And she's so fucking tight, practically gripping his cock in a way that makes it hard for him to think straight and feeding his urge to completely ruin her.
He's holding her hips in his hands, gripping them. He knows he's leaving bruises but that just makes it better. He fucks into her relentlessly, the pressure building deep in his spine, his grunting practically echoing in her ear.
He loves watching her bent over in front of him. He loves reaching forward to keep her down, body against the hood, tits aching.
But he loves that he can grab a fistful of her hair and hold her still while he fucks her. That he can control her in more ways than one.
"Is this what you wanted?" he taunts after a moment, thrusting into her after he says it. "Sitting there, practically coming in your shorts? Did you want us to see you?"
Well, no, that hadn't been what she wanted but right now, she's so glad they did. She nods her head, cheek scraping the hood as she tries to answer him.
Dylan smirks at this. It's not often she's speechless but he's glad to fuck the words right out of her.
"Tell me, princess, do you like being fucked like a dirty whore?" he asks with a quick pull to her hair, forcing her head up. "Huh? Or do you just like being one?"
She struggles to breathe as she hears this question, the idea of hearing Dylan degrade her not one she had expected, but one she learns to need. "Fuck."
He's unrelenting, however. "Use your fucking words, dollface. Do you like Chris watching me fuck you? Watching me fucking split you in half?"
She nods, leaning on her forearms as the car windshield before her becomes fuzzy. "Yes, yes."
But Dylan isn't satisfied. He needs more. "Give me your fucking hands." 
Gingerly, she reaches only one arm behind her, but Dylan decides he'll make her if he has to.
Forcing her head back down to the hood, he grabs her other arm and secures her wrists between his fingers, holding tight.
Whimpering, she feels herself clench at the pain and aggression, and Dylan feels it, too.
He then moves his foot to help shift her legs further apart, forcing her open so he can go deeper.
He'll go as deep as he fucking has to and he doesn't plan on stopping.
With his other hand, he reaches around to tease at the very clit she can't reach, resuming his work from earlier.
It feels so good between his fingers and knowing how much power it has over her makes him grin.
A simple flick of his thumb has her reeling, the feeling of both him and his fingers just what she needed.
She's panting and squirming against the hood, her back arching every time he hits just the right spot, and wishing more than anything that she could touch him.
"Please, Dylan," she whines after a moment and his attention is caught. "Please just..."
She's not entirely sure what she's asking, after all, she couldn't really touch him even if he released her, but she needs him, needs something to help her.
Dylan only smirks as he keeps her arms taught. He releases her clit but only so he can grab her hair again, force her head to the side, and whisper, "Say my fucking name."
So she does. She moans his name immediately, so consumed with lust that she knows this orgasm will be the best of her life.
And Chris watches. He watches how Dylan grits his teeth in pleasure, how Kingsley's tits slide against the hood of the car with each thrust, and how her ass fits perfectly in the palm of Dylan's hand as he gropes her skin.
He watches as she soaks him, watches him disappear into her, watches her moan his name at the feel.
And he can't fucking stand it.
That jealousy he'd felt before is much more prominent now, making him see green, his jaw clenching every time Dylan pulls back and thrusts back in, his hips slamming against her ass.
He'd wanted it, he'd wanted to see it, wanted to hear her scream... but not because of Dylan. He can't bear to hear her whimper his name again or watch him cum inside of her.
Fuck, the idea of Dylan coming inside her is the last straw, and Chris angrily steps closer to him.
He reaches for the back of Dylan's neck, his fingers weaving through the roots of his hair before tugging his head back.
"Do not fucking cum," he grunts in Dylan's ear.
Dylan sucks in a sharp breath but doesn't say anything as Chris continues to keep a tight hold on him.
"Do you fucking hear me?" Chris repeats. "You do not cum inside her."
Dylan does his best to slow his movements and keep himself from coming, but the slower he goes, the worse it gets.
And Chris notices. He hears the way Kingsley begins to whimper a little more pathetically and hates the way she's enjoying it. The way Dylan is enjoying her.
With another tug to his roots, Chris growls, "Go, you're done."
"Fuck you," Dylan seethes, the idea of stopping out of the question, but Chris reaches around and grabs his jaw, forcing his head to the side so he can look at him.
"The fuck did you just say to me?" His eyes are dark, his expression angry, and his grip on Dylan's jaw almost too tight. "You're lucky if I let you cum at all."
Dylan just glares at him, digging his fingers into Kingsley's skin as if to prove a point, and trying to jerk his head out of Chris's grasp.
But Chris doesn't let go. "Is that what you want? Wanna watch me fuck her while you get to watch? Knowing you can't fucking do anything about it? It hurts, yeah? Well I'll fucking make it hurt."
Dylan doesn't want to stop, doesn't want to let Chris have this, have her but he knows right now, Chris is the one in control.
And while on a good day, he'd have no problem telling him to go to hell, there's something about looking at Chris that makes him feel submissive.
He knows he can keep him from getting what he wants, and he decides at least this time, it's not worth it.
When he doesn't respond, Chris takes this as a sign of obedience, and scoffs. "That's what I fucking thought. You're gonna stand right over there and you're gonna fuck your hand. And while you do, I want you to watch her."
Dylan's annoyance grows as he glares at the taller man who still hasn't let go of his jaw.
"You're gonna watch as I fuck her," Chris continues, a smirk beginning to form. "You're gonna watch as I cum inside her and then? You're gonna fucking clean it up."
The idea is both sinister and appealing to Dylan and finally, Chris releases his grip rather aggressively, shoving his head to the side as he does. 
"Go," Chris barks again and Dylan eventually slows his rhythm and pulls out.
Confused and so fucking on edge, Kingsley whines as she pushes herself off the hood to assess the situation. 
Her breathing is shallow, her skin hot, and cunt throbbing as she looks from a very annoyed Dylan with his dick in his hands to Chris, whose expression is hard and determined. 
He doesn't say anything as he reaches for her and spins her around until she's in front of him. Then, he leans back until he's resting on the edge of the hood, placing her between his legs.
Her eyes are wide as she waits for his next move, hands falling onto his shoulders to brace herself.
He almost wants to smile at her flushed cheeks and hopeful gaze but chooses instead to reach up to her throat and squeeze. 
"Take my belt off," he instructs as he applies a much harsher pressure than Dylan had, and she quickly obeys as her head begins to spin.
Her hands move from his shoulders to his waist where with shaky fingers, she begins to undo the buckle.
He smirks at her frazzled movements but doesn't release her delicate throat, instead using it as a way to make her move faster.
She does, pulling it from the loops as quickly as possible before tossing it to the ground.
"Good girl," he coos, now bringing her down closer to him. He ghosts his lips over hers while watching her eyes flutter shut, head tilting as he whispers, "Now take my cock out."
Her eyes open again as she looks at him, the familiar yet handsome face leaving no room for discussion.
She does as asked, pulling down the zipper of his jeans and reaching her tiny hand into his boxers.
The second her fingers graze him, Chris wants to take a deep breath, but he doesn't. He just watches her expression, her eyes growing at the feel of him and lips parting as she wraps her hand around his large cock.
She pulls it out and looks down, mesmerized by the sight in front of her and wondering how the fuck she's meant to survive this.
Chris would make it work, no matter what, she was gonna fucking take him. And he could hardly wait as he glanced down as well, seeing the way he looked in her palm, it was fucking perfect, made to fit.
His eyes move back up to hers and she looks at him as well, waiting with anticipation.
"You're gonna fuck me," he says simply, putting the power in her hands. "You are. You're gonna fuck me and cum around my cock, gonna fucking soak me. And I'm gonna let you. And then I'm gonna fucking fill you, gonna cum inside you so deep that you don't leave this garage without my fucking baby inside of you."
Her pupils practically double in size as she nearly whimpers from his words alone, but he doesn't notice, he only looks over to Dylan, still pouting by the wall.
Bringing Kingsley a little closer to him, Chris smirks at the pitiful excuse for a man beside them. "And Dylan's gonna watch, isn't that right? Gonna watch me fill you and then clean up whatever's left. Look at him, go ahead. Look how pathetic he looks with his tiny little cock in his hands, missing your cunt."
Kingsley slowly glances to the left as she watches Dylan scoff to himself, his head resting against the wall behind him as he fists himself.
"He's gonna watch you fuck me," Chris whispers into her ear with a wicked grin. "So give him a show, yeah?"
Overwhelmed with lust and need, Kingsley turns back to him and kisses him hard. He hadn't really told her she could, but she can't seem to care right now, all she wants is to taste him, to feel what it's like to kiss him.
And he considers punishing her for this, but deep down, he'd been wanting to kiss her, too. After all, Dylan hadn't, and he was glad he didn't, because if he had... well, Chris might never have forgiven him.
So, he lets Kingsley sigh into their kiss, lets her tongue explore his, and lets her bite at his lip as her fingers begin to thread through his hair.
He likes the feeling of her touch, maybe more than he'd like to admit, but he simply drags his hands up the back of her thighs until he can feel the way she's dripping.
His eyelids flicker shut at this feeling, an indulgence he hadn't given himself to before, and curses under his breath.
He grabs the back of one leg and hoists her leg up until her knee is resting on the hood beside his hips.
This brings their bodies even closer and his exposed cock is pushed up against her aching clit.
She nearly collapses at the sensitivity, her forehead dropping down to rest on his shoulder as she whines miserably.
How is she supposed to take charge when she can barely stand up? She decides for the second time that Chris is wickedly cruel for this but even still, finds pleasure at the idea that the power is all hers.
"What did I say?" Chris reminds her lowly although he doesn't discipline her quite yet. "Be our good girl, yeah?"
With a shaky breath, she nods and straightens up, Chris's large hands helping to steady her as she does so.
With determined focus, she trails her hand down his chest, mostly to feel his large muscles before taking him in her hands.
They both watch as she guides him to her soaked opening, straightening up before sinking down with a gasp.
He exhales deeply through his nose when he feels her, eyes flicking up to her face immediately so he can watch the way her eyes shut, and her head drops back. 
She thought she'd reached her limit with Dylan, but nothing can ever compare to this.
Sure, size doesn't matter and all that shit, but Chris is more than enough. 
There's no way she can fuck him, she can't possibly figure out how she'll find the strength, but Chris doesn't let her hesitate for even a moment.
His fingers dig into her sides as he looks up at her, rolling her hips against his cock as she makes noise after uncontrollable noise.
The whole garage is echoing with his name on her tongue, and he couldn't be happier about it.
And Dylan watches, fisting himself as he watches the way Chris disappears into her, the way her tits move when she moves, and the way his nails are scratching down her back.
He's not happy about it but it is nice to watch.
Kingsley doesn't notice anyone or anything but this feeling that she's been kept from for what feels like eternity.
She does her best to use her leverage to rock against him, to bounce on his cock, and fuck him the way he asked.
But her strength is fleeting, and her mind is fuzzy, and Chris is so pretty. So fucking pretty, his scratchy beard, his colorful eyes, and his strong jaw.
And the way he's touching her just makes him that much more beautiful in her mind.
He'd watch her forever if he could, but all he wants to do is stimulate her everywhere he can think of, including her soft tits that are currently in his face.
He brings one hand up to squeeze while his tongue attacks at the other, smoothing it over her swollen nipple.
His fingers leave a grease stain behind on her skin from when he was working earlier, and he's worried for a moment until he sees how fucking pretty her tainted body looks.
It's beautiful, like paint, and proof of his touch. A physical reminder that her body belongs to him.
And so, he does it again, smearing her skin with the black substance as he gropes another moan out of her, her movements staggering as she struggles to keep consistent.
He wraps his other arm around her lower back to help guide her, making sure she can't stop, because he needs to keep feeling her, needs to cum inside her, it's all he wants.
And he's so fucking deep, he's never loved anything as much, and with his other hand, grabs her wrist and places it on her stomach.
He presses her palm flat against her skin before growling, "You fucking feel that? That's how fucking deep I am."
And she can't believe it, but she can't keep herself from gasping at the feeling of his hand pressing down on hers, the pressure that she feels inside.
She's so close and he knows it, but he won't let her cum until he is, so he reaches behind her neck to grab her roots and tug her head back. "Not fucking yet," he hisses before thrusting up into her. "Do you hear me?"
She nearly screams at the feeling, the power he holds over her being possibly the best part, before whimpering her answer.
He's making it impossible, however, for her to hold off and she knows it, just adding it to her list of reasons why he's a fucking sadist.
He doesn't release her hair, instead wrapping it around his hand so he can force her to look over at Dylan. 
"Fine, you wanna cum?" he taunts. "Then you watch him. You watch him while you cum."
Another pathetic noise leaves her lips before she pants, "Please."
"Please what?" Chris sneers in response. "Don't wanna watch him fuck his hand, is that it?"
She shakes her head, and this makes him smirk. 
"Wanna watch me fuck you, don't you?" he corrects. "Yeah? Wanna see yourself drip down my cock? Is that it?"
Nodding eagerly, she gasps again, and he loosens his grip on her hair so she can look back at him.
He doesn't release her though but she doesn't mind, she likes the feeling.
"So fucking watch me then," Chris hisses. "Watch me fuck you so hard that you feel for me a week. That every time you move you fucking feel me inside you. That you remember how fucking pathetic you look on top of me."
She breathes out a string of curses as her hands scratch down his shoulders, trying to ground herself, although it doesn't help, and she feels just as powerless as before.
He continues thrusting his hips upwards, fucking into her mercilessly, and forcing her to take every ounce of pleasure as she rolls against him, trying to match his pace.
And they find a rhythm that works well, maybe too well, and he knows he won't last much longer. The visual stimulation is already enough. 
They both hear Dylan begin to grunt beside them and Chris uses his grip on Kingsley's hair to force her eyes back over. 
"Watch him," he instructs in her ear, and they both do.
Dylan cums all over his hand, eyes screwed shut, and body sliding down the wall as if he can't fucking take it anymore.
And Chris scoffs, a look of disgust on his face as watches. "See how fucking pathetic he looks? You think he can fuck you like I can?"
Kingsley shakes her head no but still can't find her voice, eyes growing weary as Chris's grip tightens.
"Huh?" he pushes, tugging a little harder to force her to keep watching Dylan. "You think he could fucking fill you like I can?"
"No," she breathes out, body growing weaker.
Pleased with her response, Chris releases her hair so he can finish the job, thumb flicking at her clit until she writhes against him. 
"If you wanna cum so fucking bad, then do it," he leers. "Do it, soak me. Right fucking now."
His words alone send her over the edge, and she finally, finally gets that sweet relief. 
And feeling her clench around him, feeling her cum around his cock is enough for Chris to decide he can't wait any longer.
With a final thrust inside her, the warm feeling spreads throughout her body, filling her exactly the way he said he would.
They both surrender to the sensation, the power, the control. Mind numbing and jaw dropping. 
Chris swears he's never fucking cum so much in his life, never felt so connected to a person, and never been so fucking hard.
In fact, he's tempted to go again, his cock still aching for more of her, maybe this time from behind.
But it'll have to wait till next time, when Dylan hasn't tired her out first. 
He grunts to himself at the thought but soon turns his focus to the girl on his lap and the way she's clutching onto him for dear life as she struggles to breathe again.
Feeling her arms around him and her face pressed into his neck makes him smile, his hand smoothing up and down her back in an attempt to comfort her.
"So fucking good," he whispers, kissing down her neck. "You're so good for me, yeah?"
She nods lazily. 
His grin grows. "We're almost done, baby, but Dylan has something to do first."
She tries to move, but whimpers pitifully at the way her body rejects the idea. She's sore in almost every muscle and her poor cunt is ready to call it quits, but Chris only laughs as he helps lift her off and set both feet back on the ground. 
Then, he turns her around and places her back between his legs, pulling her against his chest as he looks at Dylan.
Dylan, now a little less agitated, eagerly walks in front of them, eyeing Chris as he waits for his instruction.
Chris nods his chin. "On your fucking knees."
Shaking ever so slightly, Kingsley watches as Dylan slowly kneels down before her, hands gripping her legs as he gets closer.
Then, with his eyes locked on hers, he drags his tongue up the inside of her thigh.
Both she and Chris drip down her skin and Dylan takes every last drop on his tongue, lapping at her like she's a fresh glass of water on this hot day.
His grip is tight on her leg, bringing it closer to his mouth as he grazes his teeth up until she shivers, and finally taking his tongue up to her dripping hole.
From top to bottom, Dylan doesn't leave anything behind as he takes her in his mouth. He nips, sucks, and licks like it's his job and thanks to Chris, it is.
Kingsley's hand flies to his hair as she feels him, her other hand digging into Chris's thigh as she leans back.
It's quite entertaining to Chris, but his jealousy is yet to be tamed, and he finally decides Dylan has had enough.
He clears his throat and gives Dylan a stern look, and Dylan, who could have eaten pussy all day, begrudgingly stands to his feet.
Kingsley sighs contently as she's finally allowed to relax, head resting on Chris's chest as she works to steady her heart rate.
The boys exchange a knowing and satisfied look before Chris reaches around and pulls her tank top back up, covering his greased-up masterpiece.
"You did good, baby," he praises and Dylan rests his hands on the hood beside Chris's legs and leans forward.
"Our good girl," Dylan whispers with a smirk which only makes Kingsley laugh herself. Then, he kisses her.
A very gentle kiss, not deep, but just enough so she can taste herself on his tongue, resulting in a satisfied moan. 
Chris wants to be annoyed, but after everything he decides to allow it. After all, if anyone is gonna kiss her, he guess it should be Dylan.
Eventually, the kiss breaks, and Dylan adds, "Aren't you glad your car broke down?"
Chris laughs as Kingsley groans, now slapping at his chest. "Fuck you."
"Maybe next time," he retorts, and she hits him again. "Well, are you at least glad you sat on the air compressor?"
"Shut the fuck up."
"What? It's a serious question?"
"I'm never speaking to you again."
He shakes his head with amusement as the two push off the hood of the car and Chris retrieves her clothes.
He crouches down in front of her and helps her slip them back on, making her blush, before reaching up and brushing her sweaty and tangled hair off her shoulder. 
He cups her chin, brushing his thumb down her lip once again, before grinning. "I'm glad you did."
She grins at this and he gives her a quick wink before Dylan exclaims, "Who the fuck chipped the paint?!"
Their heads turn at the outburst as Dylan angrily points to the hood of the car. "This is a priceless car! Oh, I knew you two would fuck this up for me. You fucking chipped. The paint. And this is the original paint job. Oh, Arthur is gonna kill you."
Chris just rolls his eyes as he throws his arms over Kingsley's shoulder and leads her back outside.
Dylan just keeps ranting.
"Do you know how rare it is to find this specific black?" he yells to them. "Very rare. And Chris's fat ass might have left a dent! Oh this is not good. Do you see this?"
They continue to ignore him as they head out, but Dylan doesn't notice.
Once they finally reach the driver's seat of Kingsley's car, Chris instructs her to pop the hood so he can get a better look at the engine and see what's going on.
She opens the door and gets ready to do just that, when Chris's eyes travel to the backseat.
"Huh, got a lot of room back there," he muses, and Kingsley's eyes begin to sparkle at his tone.
"Yeah," she agrees with a coy smile. "Very comfy... you should check it out."
Laughing, Chris shakes his head and looks forward. "Nah, I need to check the engine, gotta make sure you can get home."
Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, Kingsley gives him an innocent look. "Well... maybe that's the thing. Maybe the engine is fine."
Confused, his head tilts.
"Maybe the engine was always fine... and I just wanted an excuse to come see you," she admits and a wicked smile bursts out across his face.
"Is that right?" he hums and she nods.
"It is."
Shaking his head with amusement, he glances around as he wonders how he got so lucky, before finally looking back down at her with a grin.
"Meet me in the backseat."
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Next:
~ Insatiable | 3. The Prism (Harry & Dylan & Kingsley)*
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onsunnyside · 1 year
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³.⍭ 𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐈 𝐌𝐚𝐲, 𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐈 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 (𝟐/𝟐)
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𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | ghostface!ex-boyfriend!Ari Levinson x airhead/dumb!reader
𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | soft DARK/DARK!Ari, obsessed/controlling!Ari, possessive/obsessive behaviour, manipulation, blood, murder (not in detail), side character(s) death (it had to be done). implied: stalking. dumb!reader, size difference: 6’10!Ari, condescending!Ari, DD/LG undertones, manhandling, alcohol, weed (edibles). SMUT - minors DNI, fingering (f), non-con/dub-con: aphrodisiacs & stealthing, unprotected sex (p in v), daddy kink, choking, p*ssy spanking, mating press, dirty talk, rough sex, spit kink, dacryphilia, degradation, heavy dumbification, size kink, breeding kink, squirting, creampie.
𝗪/𝗖 | 9.71K
𝗔/𝗡 | thank you everyone for being patient with me, we all know pacing is my enemy and I can’t write anything short ever. mean daddy!ari makes an appearance here, so do a few of his fellow frat bros. As always, all mistakes are my own and i hope you all enjoy !! 
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲
𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐈 𝐌𝐚𝐲, 𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐈 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | ˗ˏˋ𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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“Am I stupid?” 
“Huh?”
“My friends say I’m not the sharpest… that’s why Ari treated me that way.” 
Bryce opens his mouth to answer, but quickly rethinks his blunt: “yes, you are.” 
In a way, your friends were right. It was rare for you to be out of that dreamland of yours. You were a little stupid—okay, maybe a lot stupid, but that surely wasn’t a bad thing. Everyone knew about Ari’s domineering attitude, and how he babied you and treated you like his property. 
Bryce is only frustrated because he didn’t get to you first. Now that you’re single, free from your overbearing six-foot-ten ex-boyfriend, he can take his chance. 
“I think you have a particular way of figuring things out, but that isn’t bad. It’s just you.” He gently pinches your cheek, and you smile shyly, “There’s nothing wrong with that, sweetheart. Nothing at all.” 
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Through the eye mesh, Ari watches you giggle and sip from the new solo cup. You’re practically snuggled into Langley’s arms, giving him that dumb-spaced-out look as you listen to whatever shit he has to say. His fist tightens around the aluminum handle when Bryce’s fingers trace up your cheek, drifting to your shiny forehead.
“You’re burning up.” He can barely read his lips through the dim red lights. 
You blink slowly and nod before your head falls back. A hot feeling builds in his stomach, either rage or desire, as your thighs clench and you subtly rock against the couch. The hem of your dress rides up your flesh, exposing the delicate white nylon begging to be torn—sliced to shreds. 
It was a shame, you being so woefully ignorant to leave your drink unattended while you and Bryce danced and mingled. You were lucky Ari was there to watch it—and slip in some crushed pills. A part of him was disappointed that when you returned and drank it all, not thinking about the creeps who would take advantage of you. 
Better him than anyone else. 
That’s what he found sickeningly comforting until Bryce brought you some more brownies directly after and shoved them into your pretty mouth. Anyone could smell the desperation radiating off of your body, and judging by the way Bryce was licking his lips, he was seconds away from devouring you on the damn couch in front of everyone. 
If only Bryce knew that you wouldn’t need anything else after those pills. The brownie was overkill, but Ari did love it when you were just a needy, whiny, dumb whore. 
Despite being dumped over text, Ari couldn’t escape you. You were plastered on his bedroom walls, from framed pictures to love letters you’ve written him—with all your spelling and grammar errors. Your scent was ingrained in his pillows and sheets, regardless of how many times he’s washed them. Dashes of pastel and lace were in every drawer and cranny, from your flimsy panties to itty bitty skirts that always showed your ass. 
You haven’t asked for any of your belongings back, and he wouldn’t tell you what he’s done with your favourite lacy underwear. He wants you to wear them without a clue that they’ve been covered in his seed while he rewatched the tape of you in one of your tiny cotton shorts, the crotch pulled to the side as he fucked your ass for the first time. 
He bets Bryce had no clue you were an anal slut. 
Over the booming bass and loud chatter, Ari can almost hear Bryce’s revolting thoughts—your friend has waited too long for this golden opportunity and it’s fucking soaked and needy, only inches away from him. 
Moments drag on and Bryce stands to leave, telling you to wait while he gets you cold water. Ari watches him waltz into the kitchen and check the fridge but comes up empty. On the way out, he swipes a brownie and goes to the garage. 
Ari follows after him, being masked and unrecognizable, he’s able to blend in with the bustling mob. He lingers around corners and spots the strobe lights don’t hit, the pitch-black robe morphs him into just another tall impending shadow. With a casual pace, his eyes remain locked on the younger man drunkenly humming to himself as he stumbles through the halls that were getting less crowded. 
He was making this far too easy. 
A loud crash sounds through the empty hallway, bouncing off the panelled walls and expensive paintings. 
“Aw shit.” Bryce curses and crouches to assess the damage, the china is scattered across the carpet, bits and pieces of the priceless artifact owned by the spoiled brat and party host. “Fucking shit.”
He looks up at the hooded, looming figure by the door clad in a dark robe with tattered sleeves. A stark white mask contrasts with the black eyes, nose, and dramatically wide-opened mouth—as if it were screaming or crying. 
“Hey, uh, don’t tell Ransom about that. I still owe him for the other vase I broke.” He tries to laugh off the nerves. He makes quick work of covering his ass and kicks the shards under the couch. “God knows he’ll never let me over again if he knew it was me.” 
Ari locks the door after him, slowly slipping off his mask because he’d rather have his face be the last thing the shithead sees. 
“I don’t think he’ll care.” 
Bryce’s frame stiffens and he stares forward at the window, instantly making out the long hair and pale skin. Even a few feet behind, Ari is still strikingly bigger than him. 
“He’s a good friend of mine, we both see things like that as disposable.” Ari steps forward, crushing the ceramic fragments under his heavy boots, “albeit, it would be impossible to replace the original. Nothing could amount to the first, it could look the same, feel the same—but if given the choice, only a fool would choose the fake.”
“What a drawn-out way to say you’re jealous.” He quirks a brow, “I knew you’d be an obsessed freak, just let her go, man. She’s about to get something—someone who’s actually good for her.” 
“She doesn’t know a damn thing, much less what’s good for her.”
The other man glowers, “does she know you talk about her like that?”
“Does she know you’re a pervert who’s taken pictures up her skirt?” 
Bryce’s skin goes pale, all colour draining from his cheeks until the only noticeable hue is his blue eyes. He doesn’t move or even twitch, hoping the lack of movement would make him magically disappear. 
“You’ve got pictures of my girl’s cunt.” Ari could rip him to shreds and not break a sweat. “And you’re calling me the freak?” Another step closer and more delicate shards crack under his weight. “A sicko like you must get off to that, huh? I wonder what the dean would think of that, you’re already on thin ice after that changing room incident. Fucking pervert.” 
The younger man clenches his fists and grits his teeth but he doesn’t speak. 
“You aren’t going to ask how I found out?” Ari tilts his head, waiting for a response but he gets nothing but long, ragged breaths. “My friend is fucking the dean’s secretary and she’s got loose lips,” He smirks and chuckles lowly, “in more ways than one.” 
In terror, his gaze darts towards the back door between two towering bookshelves. The various lamposts surrounding the property call to him like a beacon, so close yet so far with the menacing shadow only mere feet away. 
Do it. Ari has always loved a chase. 
In a split second, Bryce takes off, bursting through the door with a leap and racing across the lawn.
Ari cracks his neck and slips on the mask again, his hood following suit. Under his robe, he grasps the cold handle of the knife and follows after him. His heavy footsteps halt when he grabs a sharp fragment of the shattered vase—options, options, which will he choose? 
With the taste of revenge on his tongue, he contemplates. One will do the dirty work for you and the other will for himself, his pride and sanity. He couldn’t care less about those other victims when you were so disgustingly violated multiple times, and tonight could have been the worst of all. The difference between Bryce and him is that he’d do all those sick things to you because he loves you so much, and this fucking coward just wants to get his dick wet. 
Ari picks up speed, easily following after the drunk, horrified man. They both disappear into the abyss of the night, deeper into the woods of the secluded property. One of them unknowingly races closer to inescapable doom. 
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A hand cradles your cheek, the touch was so comforting and familiar that you automatically lean into it. 
“There you are, bunny.” A drawl pulls you from the shadows, “There’s my girl, are you okay?”
If that voice had a taste, it’d be warm caramel on a vanilla sundae, with rainbow sprinkles and a candied cherry on top. 
When you come to, still heavy and disorientated, your blurry ex-boyfriend is knelt by your side. “Ari? Wh-What happened?” You’re sprawled on a bed like a ragdoll. Your legs are spread wide with one hanging off of the edge and the hem of your dress barely conceals your modesty.
The brunette hasn’t stopped caressing your cheek, his gentle motions a stark contrast to the darkness in his eyes, “Bryce slipped something into your drink.” He answers calmly as the aching in your head builds to a pounding. 
It takes a few seconds for you to process his words. “N-No… He wouldn’t—he’d never.” Your heart sinks. 
“He did. He told me himself before he got into his car and drove off.” Ari explains, “I guess he got scared when you passed out and decided to just leave you here. You’re lucky Steve found you and called me.” 
Distraught and sick to your stomach, you try to stand but collapse back onto the mattress, your legs too weak and unstable to support your weight. “Feeling—ugh.” 
Ari sweeps you into his arms, “Hey now, take it easy or you’ll hurt yourself. Deep breaths, you’re getting overwhelmed.” He cradles you like a princess, his little damsel in distress. 
“My basket…” 
Ari chuckles, even at a moment like this, your priorities haven’t changed. “I’ll find it later, baby. Just gotta calm you down right now.”
You almost cry at that. Whether it was the alcohol or the drugs, you feel as exposed and vulnerable as a wilting flower. Like a strong breeze could knock you over, you’re helpless to everything—the loud music, the bright lights and the many guests downstairs. 
You feel small. 
Tucking yourself into the crook of Ari’s shoulder, you inhale his cologne. The warm musk of cypress and cedarwood seeps into your senses, followed by the gentle undertones of patchouli. You dig your nose deeper, determined to soak up as much as you can before he goes away again—you missed him so much. 
Your unfocused eyes dart around the bedroom, from the cream walls and dark furniture. The soft, expensive duvet is wrinkled from your weight and your heels lie forgotten on the floor. Slowly but surely, the lights and pounding become bearable, and you can finally hear yourself think. 
Would Bryce do that to you?
If not, why would Ari say he did?
No, Ari never lied. Lying was deceitful and wrong, and Ari would never do that to you.
It seems too soon when Ari returns you to bed. You begrudgingly abandon your safe place and get a good look at him.
“You’re bleeding!” There were red splatters on his face to his neck, a bit even blending in with his dark beard. You quickly touch your own face and gasp when the same vermillion is on your fingers, “it’s still wet!” 
Ari quickly cleans your face, a soft chuckle flowing past his pink lips. “It’s fake, bunny. Just touched up my costume before I found you.” 
Your eyes fall to his attire, the black hooded cloth draped over his massive shoulders and mask atop his head, holding back his long hair. You tilt your head. 
Ari sighs fondly and pulls down the mask, revealing the eerily expressive big eyes and elongated mouth. As haunting as it was, you couldn’t ever figure out if the expression was upset or terrified. 
“Oh! I remember that mask.” You recall all the times he’s scared his friends with it. He messed with you a couple of times too. 
“Why are you scared, bunny?” He asked, his voice slightly muffled under the guise, as he pinned you against the wall, “it’s just daddy, I’m not gonna hurt you.” 
What followed was a night tangled in his bedsheets, the mask only coming off after you came all over his length twice. Ari wasn’t satisfied until he was soaked with your essence, he’d spend hours breaking you apart, only to put you back together with loving aftercare. 
You wonder if any of that has changed now—if he’s changed since then.
He goes towards the ensuite and switches on the tap. He wipes his face with his sleeve, cleaning away the red. 
“You don’t have to take it off.” You hesitate. It was awkward to see him again, he was so nonchalant about it too. “The fake blood is a part of your costume. And you’ll need it if you leave.” 
He snorts. “If I was leaving, I wouldn’t care. It makes you uneasy.” He meets your gaze through the reflection, “You never liked scary movies anyway.”
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"Bunny, nothing is happening."
"I don't care!" You squeal, shaking in his arms with your face buried in his neck. Your eyes are squeezed shut and if you could, you'd cover your ears too but you refuse to part with your big, protective boyfriend. He was your unofficial bodyguard! "P-Please, turn it off! It's too scary!"
"You said you wanted to do something fun." Ari rubs your back under your shirt, gently dragging his nails down your spine. "Isn't this fun?"
"Not fun at all." You huff in frustration and fear, trying to ignore the creepy music flowing from the speakers, it paints the entire living room eerie and deeply unsettling. "Ari, please!"
"Stop being such a baby." He scolds, spanking your ass. "It isn't even gory." 
You pull away with a pout, "not a baby..."
A slow, sinister smile crawls onto his lips. "No? Why are you crying like one then?"
"You're bein' mean..." You move to climb off his lap but he locks his built, firm arms around your waist. "I don't like it." 
He ignores you and swoops forward, kissing from your forehead to your wet cheeks, across your nose and finally your lips. He makes obnoxious puckering noises, nibbling on your warm skin until your teary-eyed sulk faded into a sweet, giggly glow. 
It never takes much to distract dumb little you. 
"How about we get your mind off it, huh?" 
"Are we gonna go upstairs?" You ask cluelessly as he lays you on the couch, bracing himself above you. "You said you'd help me with my math homework?"
"I know, baby, I know." Ari sighs softly, lowering his hips between your spread thighs. "You still don't understand? I just tutored you last week." 
"I-I tried, but it's still too hard!" You sputtered, "I promise I did all the steps you put on the checklist, but I just—I can't, daddy." 
He coos, "Don't worry, bunny. I'll dumb it down for you again."
Your eyes flutter shut when his hard length rubs against your core, and only then do you notice the sticky mess. You squirm, embarrassment flooding your body. 
"You're so wet, baby, how long have your panties been soaked?" He asks, kissing from your jaw to your neck, his thick beard tickles your skin. 
You moan quietly, "I d-don't know, daddy." 
"Pfft, what do you know, ya little dummy." His voice lowers as he rocks subtly into you, his muscles flexing under his weight, "Just let me feel you, yeah? You've been grinding on me all fuckin' day."
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You lazily blink up at the ceiling and don’t realize your hand is drifting between your thighs until his voice rings out, “how are you feeling?”
“Uhm—hot.” You immediately retreat and kick your legs in hopes of cooling down. “Like really hot, is that bad?”
He enters the bedroom again, clean and devilishly handsome, “Yeah, I think the drug is still active, it might get worse before it gets better. Did you have Jensen’s brownies too?” 
���Oh… only a few. Should I go,” an odd tingling sensation flutters through your body as you sit up, you feel lightheaded, “to the hospital?” 
“You could.” Ari considers, his blue eyes trailing from your crooked bunny ears to your pout, “But what if they ask what happened to you? You’ll have to tell them what he did.” 
A dreadful weight fills your chest, sinking you deeper into the plush mattress. “...but he’s my friend.”
Ari clenches his jaw, “but lying is bad. Do you want to lie to all those people who are trying to help you? Do you want him to do that to someone else? Because I can guarantee he will if you don’t tell the truth.” He chides with a deep voice, “You know he used to snap pictures up your skirt? The drunk bastard showed me everything on his phone, the entire photo album of your cunt, like you were some cheap slut.” 
Your heart shatters, cracking down the middle and bleeding on your trembling hands. The colour absorbs all light, abandoning you in nothingness and leaks onto your pretty dress, tainting you like a white dove in viscous oil. 
No, no, no. 
“Think about all of the people you’re putting in danger just because he’s your friend.” 
“He wouldn’t do that to me.” 
Ari cocks his head, “Are you calling me a liar?”
“No! I just—” you heave, blinking profusely, “he’s my friend. He’s nice to me… or was. I don’t know!” 
“You should know by now that you aren’t the best at choosing friends.” Look at what they did to us. 
You sniffle, wishing to be swallowed whole. Ari was right, your judgement was severely lacking and more often than not, it led you to a road of pain and loneliness. 
Could it be that you’ve never had good intuition?
But you picked him, didn’t you? No, Ari picked you. He chose you above everyone else, time and time again. 
And you let him go. 
“I-I’m sorry, but he’s gonna hate me…” Your vision blurs as your eyes water, “I don’t—I don’t want him to hate me. Don’t want a-anyone to hate me.”
You thought Bryce was kind to you, but that was before tonight. It turns out, he was nothing but a creepy pervert. He violated you and acted like your friend. And stupidly naive little you didn’t notice a thing. 
“You wanted him, didn’t you?” Ari crosses his arms. “You wore all those fuckin’ skirts for him? You wanna be photographed like a dumb whore?”
“Wha—No!” 
“You did or you still do.” His expression hardens, a deep wrinkle settling between his dark eyebrows. “And everyone’s going to say it’s your fault too.”
You quickly shake your head, wispy no’s tumble from your mouth. That seemed like the only word you knew. 
“Did you let him drug you because you wanted him to touch you? If you did, just admit it now.”
“I didn’t…” Your bottom lip wobbles, shiny tears prickling at your waterline, “Ari, please. I only…I didn’t think.” You choke out, “I only want you. It’s always been you.”
And just like that, the switch flips. 
In the blink of an eye, he’s knelt next to you on the bed and is cupping your cheeks in his warm palms, “Hey, hey, no need for the tears. We could stay here until you calm down and can make the decision yourself.”
“Can’t.” 
Ari’s chest vibrates with his deep growl. He fights every urge to taste those tears on your pretty cheeks. “Can’t what?” 
“Can’t think—don’t wanna.” You blubber helplessly, all too overwhelmed with his accusations. “Don’t make me, please.” 
“Oh, poor bunny.” He coos, thumbing your cheekbone dusted with glitter. The sparkles are washed away by your tears and make you look even more divine. “I know. I know you can’t think for yourself. That’s why you had me, right?”
You cry harder, beautifully needy and miserable, just how he liked you to be. 
“Had me make all the choices for you, do all the thinking and all the work.” He hungrily licks his lips, watching the droplets seep into the corners of your mouth. “Because daddy always knows best. Ain’t that right, bunny?” 
“Missed you, daddy.” You manage through hiccups and weakly clamber into his lap. You nuzzle his chest, holding one of his hands to your cheek to ground yourself. 
Every part of Ari was your haven. Whenever you sought comfort, you found yourself in his presence, grasping for any piece of him you could reach and holding on with all your might. There wasn’t an instance when he didn’t provide that sweet security, especially now when your head is so muddled and lost. 
If only you knew what those very hands did an hour ago. 
“Daddy missed you too, princess.” Ari murmurs, massaging the back of your neck and feeling the tense muscles under your skin, “But you broke up with me, remember?”
“Didn’t wanna! My friends—they made me feel dumb for letting you treat me that way.” 
“And, where are they now?” 
You shrug, “Dunno, they left me a while ago.” 
It’s terribly sad that you don’t know they’re already dealt with and their miserable lives were put to an end at the hands of three masked men. They were gone before he even touched Bryce. 
All of them are burnt to a crisp, their bruised and battered bodies utterly unidentifiable. You’ll ask about them soon and he’ll play the concerned boyfriend as always, then return the next day to get rid of the remains. 
Sometimes it feels like clockwork, except this time, he had the help of two close friends. 
He wonders if you remember that stranger who kept you company when he was late for your cafe date one day. Tired and sweaty from practice, Ari waltzed in to find you in a friendly conversation with the other man. Laughing and chatting like you’ve known each other for years. 
Lucky for him, the stranger was just another drifter. No family, no home, no friends—except for you, of course. Shortlived that friendship was. 
It takes you a while to calm down but Ari never leaves your side. He rubs your back and hums softly, letting you soak his clothes with your tears. He’s painfully missed holding you like this, feeling the little trembles of your body against his and hearing each stuttering word fall from your lips. 
You used to cry to him for everything. A late assignment or a failed test—tears, or the store ran out of your favourite comfort snacks—even more tears, perhaps the most you’ve ever cried was when you thought you lost Hazel, the stuffie he gave you. 
What’s even more upsetting is when he found it in your friend’s dorm, along with the rest of his gifts to you. 
Good riddance, your friends deserve everything that came to them. He hopes they burn in hell. 
Eventually, he leaves to get some water for you. He wears his mask while passing through the still ongoing party, dodging drunk students as they screamed to whatever song was blasting through the speakers. 
He retrieves a water bottle and some snacks before heading back to the bedroom. Upon reaching the second floor, he flips up the mask and spots a tall figure clad in brown, baggy clothes and leaning against the wall. 
“How is she?”
“She’s still a bit shaken. I’m taking her back to the house later so she can sleep it off.” 
Steve nods, fixing the worn, burlap mask atop his head. “Okay, do you want me to stay for some extra help? You walked here after all.” 
“No, I’ll just call a taxi.” Ari slaps his shoulder, taking out the single key to unlock the door. He couldn’t let you get away as soon as he got you back. “You should head back home before some cheerleader rats you out to coach again.” 
Aside from the obvious, their disguises are also because the coach had annoying rules that forbid partying before a big game. It wouldn’t be the first time they were scolded after someone reported them.
Mr. Nice Guy Steve had arrived at the party earlier and kept tabs on you like any good friend. He called Ari right away when you were getting close to Bryce. Unfortunately, sweet as he was, Steve was just like you. Dumb and dim, and painstakingly benign. He failed to notice Ari was already there, and so were Curtis and Bucky. All of them masked and with dark intentions. 
It wasn’t like them to leave him out of things, but tonight it was vital he remained unaware. 
“I hope she gets better soon. Bryce is a fucking asshole for doing that.” The solemn expression on Steve’s face transforms into determination, “You know I’ll always have your back.”
“I know.” Ari smiles, and a tinge of something more lurks in his eyes. “You’re my best guy, I don’t know what I’d do without you. I think you’ll be my best man too someday.”
The blond laughs and walks towards the stairs, his brown velvet suit complements the vintage-style decor. “Someday as in a few months?”
“Less than a few if I get lucky.” 
Steve pulls the burlap mask down, concealing his features but Ari knows he’s wearing a crooked grin. “I don’t think you need luck. She needs you, I know it.” 
Ari knows it too. 
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Beyond the door, you’re still sweating up a storm with your hand tucked between your legs, desperately rubbing yourself over your tights. The door opens and you hurriedly hide your wet fingers under the bed sheet, blinking up at the intruder with wide eyes. 
“You okay, bunny?”
“Y-Yes, uh, are you?” Your chest rises and falls unsteadily. 
He nods, his gaze drifting over your sweaty skin and hard nipples. “They left with some guys just now.” 
“...Without me?” 
Ari shuts and locks the door behind him. A deep frown plays on his lips, “I’m sorry, baby, I didn’t have a chance to tell them about you, I just saw them drive off.”
As expected, tears well up in your eyes for the umpteenth time that night. Poor little you, your delicate soul probably couldn’t take anymore. 
He sits next to you and wraps you in his arms, “I’m so sorry. It isn’t right of them to treat you this way. Like you’re garbage on the side of the road.” 
While that was true and they were hypocrites for saying how badly Ari was treating you only to treat you even worse, that wasn’t why you were crying.
“They don’t deserve you, bunny, much less your pretty tears.” 
“N-Not crying ‘cause of that.” You whine against his neck. 
“Why then?” He asks although he already knows the answer. 
You don’t speak and shamefully open your legs, refusing to meet his eyes. The fur of your dress rides up, revealing a soaked patch of your panties through the white nylon, and the wet spot on the bedsheet. “H-Help me, please?” 
Every inhale brings your scent deep into his senses, snipping the final threads of self-control. “I don’t know, bunny. It isn’t right.”
“But I want you! I never wanted to break up, never wanted to leave you…” You sniffle, bringing his hand to your core. His long, thick fingers barely brush your tights, but having him this close is enough to send shivers down your spine. “My friends pressured me—and I still want you. Need you, daddy.” 
He groans, letting you helplessly grind against his hand. “Yeah, baby? You want me to take care of you?” That glazed look in your eyes almost brings him to his knees. “I’ll help you, but on one condition.” 
It was remarkable how you got this far while being so dim.
“Knew you’d like this. My bunny hates scary movies but gets soaked even when I’m wearing this—” In a daze, you stare at the black eyes, getting lost in the endlessness. The hand around your throat tightens, “There’s my little dummy—you get your tits touched and lose your fuckin’ mind.”
You should be scared or at least on edge with him mounted above you, broad shoulders blocking any source of light. His skin is already covered in your nail marks, from his neck to his lower stomach, just above the band of his jeans. 
He massages your breast and pinches your nipple, “Are you gonna say something or just cry like a baby?” He tilts his head, dark shadows enhancing the ghostly expression of his mask. 
You cup his monstrous bulge, tears leaking down your face. “Want you in my mouth, daddy.” 
He grips your chin, digging his fingers into your cheeks until your lips pucker. “You want daddy’s cock or balls, bunny?”
“Ya kno’wha’….” 
He smirks, his hand releases your tit and his rough fingers trail down your clothed slit, “I want you to say it. I know this mouth is more than just one of my holes.” 
“Daw-dy,” You exhale shakily, “please, c-can I—ah!” You squeal when he rips a hole in the crotch of your tights, but he doesn’t go any further. His touch lingers on your inner thighs, inches away from your sticky, smeared arousal. “Will you—”
He shakes your head, making you squeak, “Spit it out, dummy.” 
You weep, your jaw is getting sore from his harsh hold but you’d be lying if you said you hated it. “Let me suck on your balls, please. Need to taste them. Need them in my mouth, on my face—everywhere, daddy.” 
He lifts the mask and hums thoughtfully as if he were pondering a philosophical question. With every slow blink, his eyes get a shade darker and darker, soon becoming a colour you’ve never seen before. A twinge of panic blooms in your stomach, and for a moment, you’re scared of him, of what he could do with you in this vulnerable position, in a full frat party where no one could hear you scream. 
But he grins, his pink lips stretched in the sweetest smile that blossoms uncertainty into mindless hope. 
Then, it’s all crushed. “No.” 
“But—”
“I said to ask. I never promised I’d let you.” The mask covers his face again, but you know he’s still beaming. “You did dump me, don’t you remember? Or is your dumb baby brain too stupid right now?”
“I remember…”
“Yeah, should make you read that fuckin’ text right now.” His fingers press against your slit, immediately seeking your little button. He doesn’t give you a moment to breathe before he’s rubbing the bundle with his thumb and pinning your hips down. “But judging by your face, I think my bunny is too dumb to read.” 
“I can.” You force your eyes open, toes curling in pleasure. “I can, daddy. I-I can do it.” 
“Do you think your little head can handle reading right now?” Ari quizzes slowly. If he weren’t immensely enjoying this, he’d pity you. “Poor baby, you just wanna me proud.” He ridicules, drawing out the last word as his voice goes high. “Stupid bunny just wants praise, how adorable.” 
Someone hurt you badly, and a sick part of him wants to thank them for making you into the perfect little airhead for him. 
He adds pressure as you weakly thrust upward. His other digits join too, fucking your tightness through your soaked panties as you moan quietly. A few slaps land on your cunt, and sopping noises fill the room over the bass. You’re a disgustingly creamy mess—and the weed brownies were such a glorious overkill.
You whimper, fruitlessly trying to remove the mask. “Off, daddy. Wanna kiss you, pretty please. Missed you so bad, need—” He slaps your pussy harder, “—need you.” 
Oh, how could he deny you when you asked so nicely?
He rips the mask off and dips down, capturing your bitten lips. His tongue slides against yours as he groans heavily, “If you keep begging like that, you’re gonna regret it.” 
“Pl—Please ruin me.” You ached for him. Every part of your mind, body and soul burned for any sliver of him but at the same time, you were overwhelmed by the slightest graze of his fingertips. 
You blame the drug Bryce slipped in your drink. 
“I’ll do a lot worse, and never let you leave me again.” He murmurs into your mouth, his facial hair rubbing against your tear-stained cheeks. Then, he stands to undress you entirely. Your dress and leg warmers fall to the floor, along with your torn tights and messy panties. He fixes your bunny ears before stripping off his pants, and soon enough, he’s standing fully nude. You don’t know if it was your time apart, but he looks bigger and stronger. 
His skin stretched around his rippling muscles and coarse, dark hair mapped out all of your favourite spots. From his beefy chest and his tummy to the fat base of his throbbing length, and finally, his thick powerful thighs. 
Wait, the tiniest voice in your head pleads as he slowly rolls down the condom. With the latex snug, he leers at you and jerks his cock slowly, his fingers meeting around the girth. You watch as the angry red head immediately fills the tip with pre-cum and your core throbs, awakening a hunger inside of you. 
He kneels on the bed, “What’s wrong?” 
“No–Nothin’...” You gulp and surge forward. “Need you, daddy. So bad.” You mutter against his lips, sucking his tongue messily. Saliva is exchanged and smears down your chin, following in the trails of drool and tears. Your makeup is beyond salvation but he thinks you’ve never looked more angelic. 
Ari lies on his back and pulls you on his lap, your creamy folds enveloping his length. He rubs up and down your sides. “You know what to do, bunny.” 
You obediently nod and rock against his cock, pouting at the latex barrier. You quickly shake that thought from your head, you’ve never had unprotected sex and you won’t start now. 
You focus on rolling your hips, rubbing your swollen button against him as he slides along your soppy folds. The mushroom head pokes out every time you thrust back and his sack brushes your opening, getting covered in your arousal. 
When your cream covers him from base to tip—and his firm lower stomach too which surprised you because you’ve never gotten that messy before—you lift onto your knees and gently grab him. He’s hot and heavy in your hand, still too thick for your fingers to wrap around his width. You angle yourself and his tip circles your hole, catching on it before popping back out. 
“Deep breath, bunny. Open up for me.” He coos softly, holding back from pulling you onto his cock and fucking you stupid.
You dumbly nod, biting your lip as you sink down again. The fat head breaches this time, feeding your needy hole. You slowly start bouncing, bracing yourself on his beefy chest and fucking yourself on his tip. Overstimulation prickles but you force yourself to ignore it. 
“Take more, baby, you can do it. Stretch your little pussy for me. All the way down.” His deep growl contrasts with your high-pitched gasp. “Don’t you wanna feel me in your tummy?” He’s missed that initial resistance of your tightness, the way your hole would struggle to take him as if he hadn’t fucked you with his dick and a few fingers before. 
Taking a deep breath, you sink further. A choked whimper escapes from behind your clenched teeth when he slides deeper. His protruding veins drag along your pulsating walls until his balls are flush against your ass. All air is shoved from your body, making room for his dick. 
Ari groans, losing himself in your heat, “There’s my good girl. Daddy’s so fuckin’ deep, yeah? That’s why you’re crying like a little baby?”
“T-Too big, da—ddy.” You gasp, thighs tensing at his sides. Little exhales shake your frame, that drug wasn’t holding back. 
You can’t ride him, not in this state of mind and he knows that. So, he helps you out. His fingers dig into your flesh, moving you back and forth on his cock. The bulbous tip hits your special spot insistently, and your clit grinds against his pubic bone, the dark tufts of hair sending tingles through your body. 
“Look at that fuckin’ mess. Leaking all over me, that little fuckhole must’ve missed me, huh?” His eyes bounce between your face and the stickiness covering his skin, all coming from your weepy core. “Missed me so badly you can’t even think right now. Cockdrunk little bunny.” 
You want to do more, but you don’t know what. 
It’s a good thing Ari knows, he knows you better than you know yourself. He knows that your head is all jumbled right now and nothing makes sense. He also knows that you want to feel his warmth skin-to-skin, the weight of his bare cock against your throbbing walls. 
You don’t know it, but you want it. You’ve always wanted it, and that’s why he’s broken or taken off the condom every other time you’ve had sex. This was no different, besides the hints blood still on his neck and arms, and the missing necklace from your throat. The same one that one of your stupid friends delivered to the frat house, along with a note scribbled in blue ink: ‘don’t contact her ever again.’ 
As if they ever knew what was good for you—as if they could protect you as he has. 
Seeing your collarbones rid of any sign of him, he yanks you down by the back of your head, locking you close with his hand around your throat. “Speak up, dumb bunny. You’ve got a mouth for a reason, tell daddy what you want.”
“But, uh! I-I don’t know!” You lift off of him, tears streaming down your cheeks as you grind against his cock. Your slick smears to his abs and down to his balls, making a whole damn mess of his lap and the sheets underneath. 
“Put me back in.” 
You shake your head, a burning sensation zips through your system, “C-Can’t—don’t know what’s happening—daddy.” If you weren’t so gone, you’d be embarrassed about the rush of slick pouring from your cunt. 
Ari huffs and easily lifts you off of him. Your body flops onto the mattress, the cool sheets soothing the heat momentarily, but the confusion is still high. 
Why was this happening?
Bryce. It was Bryce. And this could’ve been with Bryce instead. 
While you cry into the pillows, helplessly clenching your thighs, Ari slips off the condom. He crawls behind you, keeping you on your side while slipping his arm under your head and pressing his chest to your sweaty back. His nose nuzzles in the crook of your neck and he delicately lifts your leg, guiding himself to your hole and thrusting forward in one go. 
You moan loudly and convulse, “O-Oh, wait—”
“Hush, sweetie, let daddy take care of you.” 
You go slack when he presses balls deep, his heavy sack flush against your soppy hole as his length throbs within your walls. His skin tingles with desire and pride. It’s been too fucking long since he’s felt your bare skin against his.
“How does it feel? Is this better?”
“Mhm, so much better, daddy.” With a stupidly blissful smile, the heat inside you is finally bearable, you don’t know if it’s the position, or maybe you just missed him so much, but this is better than anything you could’ve dreamt of. “What did you do?”
“Nothing you need to know about, bunny.” He rocks slowly, wet noises filling the room over the muffled bass. 
He fucks you like that. Pounding you on your side, keeping you firmly against him as he tears your little cunt apart. His tip slams into your spot ruthlessly and he groans and grunts into your ear, whispering filthy things you can’t hear over the rush of blood in your head. 
You can hardly breathe with his bicep locked around your throat. Drool drips down your chin as you gasp for air that’s no longer there. Your mind goes blank and sparks dance along the inside of your eyelids, painting a photo of him—your saviour and captor. 
“Should’ve never left me, bunny. Could’ve been fucking you like this every day.” He digs his nails into your leg, messily kissing your jaw and you spasm in his hold. He growls when you tighten, milking him, “Fuck, just like that? I haven’t even touched your little button yet.” 
You missed him so much that having this intimacy again heightens all of your senses. You can feel him so closely, the dull thump of his heart, his skin brushing against yours and his breath fanning across your neck. 
You loved this man with every fiber of your being. 
The gentle ghost of his lips against your cheek shatters you. 
Your juices spurt out as your legs attempt to shut, but he forces you wide open. Fucking your cunt as you squirt, coating him in the most obscene way. You just lie there, helplessly taking whatever he has to offer, and all of your surroundings mash together, blending into one another. 
“I think that’s a new record, bunny.” His voice is muddled. He gives your sensitive pussy a slap, he should’ve done this a long time ago. 
Ari manhandles you like a doll, pulling you to the edge of the bed as his feet land on the floor. Your back collides with the bed and you’re immediately bent in half, with your legs on either side of your head and your arms sprawled over the pillows. His massive frame covers you almost completely and you want nothing more than to drag your hands all over his body, to feel him.
Your dazed eyes never leave him, but he knows you’re barely comprehending anything right now. He’d bet you’d let him fuck your ass without prep. 
He loves when you look at him like that. Like he made the sun, stars and moon, and he could never do anything to hurt you—like you’d never leave him, but you did anyway. 
Rage bubbles in his stomach and he roughly slaps your creamy cunt in quick succession, the sound echoing through the room as you weakly squirt again, this time it’s far less. Electricity burns through your veins, making you cry out and quiver, trying to escape his hard spanks. 
He gets tired of your relentless whining and wiggling and finally lowers himself, inserting his bare length into your ruined, weepy pussy. He watches your hole stretch to accommodate his girth, “Look at us.” 
You take a second too long to do what he wanted, so he forces your head up and that’s when you see it. He loves the look of surprise on your dumb face. 
“A-Ari, what are you—you can’t!” 
“Hush, bunny.” He bats away your hands, “I’m gonna come in you, and you’re gonna fuckin’ thank me for it.” He lowers himself, his beefy thighs flexing from the measured, steady motion. He wants to see your reaction when he presses deeper, “And you’re gonna tell me how much you love my cum, got it?”
He rises calmly, allowing you to see your eager cunt suck him in and coat every inch of his length in your cream. You don’t know how long he does that, the seconds feel like hours as he imprints every one of his protruding veins into your inner walls. Every time he drops down, the fat head rams into your sweet spot, shoving a choked gasp from your throat. 
You can’t bring yourself to look away, even when he removes his hand. Drool seeps out of the corner of your lips as your gaze locks on his monstrous cock spearing into you at a brutally gentle pace. You shudder when his thighs tense under his hairy skin, lewdly wishing to sink your teeth into the flesh. 
He’s so much bigger and stronger than you, in an almost scary way. Just a fucking mountain of meat and muscle, an impenetrable force that could crush you like nothing. You must look comically and pitifully small and lost under him, bent in half with your face covered in spit and tears. 
The fat tip slips out with an indecent pop, he’s throbbing and hot, covered in your shared arousal. He rubs the head on your clit, dribbling pre-cum all over your sore button. 
Your next words even shock yourself. 
“Back inside—please, daddy.” You can’t do much in this position. You can only watch him leisurely trace his bulbous tip along your drippy petals, circling your hole. “Daddy—stop teasin’...”
“You want me bare, sweetie?” He asks, lazily dragging his balls over your folds. “You have to say it, or else I’m just gonna rub my balls all over your cunt and you’re gonna come like that.” He lifts easily despite being in a squatting position and stays there above you. Taunting you, making you sweat and whine. 
You stare at the string of arousal between your puffy folds and his full sack. “Daddy, I—p-please, want—”
He spits on your cunt and pinches your clit meanly, “You can do better than that. I know you’re dumb, but you know how to speak.” 
“Please fuck me—bare,” You sound utterly broken, “W-Want to feel your big cock in my little pussy, want you to pump me full. Make me your cumslut, please! Get—Get me pregnant, daddy.” 
Ari spits on your core again and lowers, penetrating you in one thrust, and pinning you down with his weight. He forces your flailing hands to hold your legs in place, keeping you wide open for his carnal gaze. The number of times he’s dreamt of having you in a mating press, one would think he was fucking obsessed. And honestly, they wouldn’t be wrong.
Your eyes roll back and you get that exquisitely stupid look on your face. He smirks, “There, was that so fuckin’ hard? Such a dumb little whore begging me to fuck you bare, you remember how you didn’t even let me finish in you with a condom on?” 
Not really, all of the times you’ve had sex, you were too fucked out to notice anything. This time was no different. 
Ari builds speed, harshly pounding down into your hole and fisting the bed sheets. “Now look at you, cockdrunk—fuckin’ ballsdrunk too I bet.” Your mouth drops open in a silent moan and all he can think about is gagging you on his sack. 
Your response is a garbled yes daddy.  
“I fucking knew it.” He drops to one knee and leans over you. His thrusts are harder at this angle and this proximity, he can see every useless thought leave your pretty head. “Little slut, you wanna be daddy’s cumdump, sweetie? You want me to fill you up and toss you aside, treat you like a stupid cumrag?”
You nod helplessly, choking out pathetic uh’s with every thrust. He’s so ruthless too, spitting on your cunt or tits, and easily overpowering your squirming body. His length forces out your juices and it leaks down your ass. 
“Begging me to knock you up, and treat this little cunt like a cumdump. I thought you were supposed to be my good bunny?”
“A-Am, daddy…”
That earns you a glob of spit on your face. “I don’t like liars. Admit it, ya little crybaby. You just want daddy’s cum in your pussy.” He admires the fat tears pouring from your eyes, “If you could see yourself now, going fuckin’ stupid for cum.” 
He’s so deep, his balls slap against your wetness as he rocks into you—stuffing you to the brim. You’ve never felt this full before. Your body begins to ache from this position, but you don’t want him to stop.
Hot streams of euphoria almost knock you unconscious, but Ari’s fingers jamming down your throat make your eyes shoot open. His chest is flushed and the red bleeds onto his face, his dark hair sticks to his sweaty forehead.
“Keep looking at me, baby. Want you to see when I breed this little pussy.” 
Automatically, you suck on his digits and taste yourself. He drops forward, completely covering you and hooking your legs over his shoulders. If possible, his dick hits deeper, and for a moment you confuse his fingers in the back of your throat for the tip of his dick. 
“Are you ever gonna leave daddy again?” He prys your mouth open, messily spitting on your tongue as you gag. “Poor girl fucked stupid already. All dumb on daddy’s dick, and crying like a fuckin’ baby. Not a single thought in that pretty head.” He pulls out your tongue and chuckles when it just hangs out, saliva smearing on the bottom half of your face, joining your pretty tears. 
You’re just a useless little bunny, crying your little heart out on his dick as if you didn’t ask for it and he isn’t doing you a damn favour—without him, you’d be a wet, pitiful mess and probably getting pumped and dumped by some shithead.
Ari would demand you thank him, but he knows you’re too cockdrunk to speak. So, he rails your tight cunt, splitting you open on his girth, claiming his rightful property. He’s determined to fuck a baby into you. 
Your senses go in overdrive when your swollen button is bullied by those same rough fingers. You cry out, trying to shove him away but he only gets meaner and pinches your bundle. You mewl and tremble beneath him, creamy and nearly shattered as he thrusts harder and deeper, hitting that rough patch with cruel precision. 
“I fucking love you, bunny.” He grunts, eyes locked on your leaking juices that only make him more ravenous. His whole cock is covered in you, and he can feel your excessive arousal dripping down his balls. “Love you so much—you’re never gonna get away again. You hear me?” He grabs your face, still torturing your clit with his other hand. “I said do you fucking hear me?”
“Yes, daddy!” You sob brokenly, struggling to keep his devious glare, “I-I won’t, uh! Promise!” 
When you clench tightly, he shudders and falls on top of you, crushing you to the rocking bed. “Fuck, that’s a good bunny.” He groans deeply, licking up your salty tears. “Daddy’s good little bunny, I fuckin’ love how stupid you are.” He bites into your throat, then soothes the spot with his tongue. 
“Luh y-you too, daddy.”
With both of his feet firmly on the floor again, one of his hands grips your shoulder and the other lands above your head, his fingers securing your bunny ears to your head. He can’t look away from your glazed-over eyes, too beautifully ruined, and teary and twinkling. “You leave me again, and I’ll do much worst next time.” 
If you weren’t all over the place, you’d wonder what he did this time.
He pulls you down to meet his thrusts, and you can offer nothing but weepy moans as your walls tighten, choking his dick, and bringing him closer to a blissful end. Your legs flail, the band in your tummy so close to snapping with every brutal pound of his hips. 
“You wanna know something, dumb bunny?” He leans down, spitting on your cheek before smearing it into your skin. The single action has you spiralling. “This isn’t the first time I’ve filled you up.”
You can’t process his confession since your body loses control. Your juices squirt out forcefully and your walls contract, almost trying to push him out but he doesn’t falter and pumps harshly. Your sharp squeal wrecks your throat as you coat him in your orgasm, soaking his cock and balls, all the way down his thick thighs. 
Ari presses your legs into the mattress, lowering his weight onto your convulsing frame. “F-Fuck, that’s it. Milk me, ya little dummy, make a stupid mess all over me. Show me how much you love me.” He hisses, his muscles tensing under his flushed skin. His cock pulses as his balls tighten, then finally, he teeters over. “Oh shit, fucking take my cum. I’m gonna fuckin’ breed this little pussy—” His words break off into a guttural groan that bounces off of the walls. Hot streams of his seed flood your insides, stuffing you full until the white pours out from around his girth.
You fade in and out of consciousness, eventually landing in an in-between. The numbness swallows you up from your limbs, slowly but surely reaching your quaking chest. You don’t know if you’re just breathing unevenly or full-on sobbing, but the wet feeling on your face suggests the latter. 
Ari pants heavily, his warm breath fanning over your cheeks. He cradles your hot, sticky cheek and slips his thumb into your mouth. In this floaty headspace, you suckle on him lightly, feeling immediately grounded. “It’s okay, sweet bunny, go to sleep. I’m not going anywhere.” 
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A brightness pulls you from that special place of dreams, and your surroundings trickle into your air-filled head.
First, you smell him. That familiar musk floods your nose in the best way, calming you like a lullaby. You could’ve fallen asleep again, but a faint conversation sparks your curiosity, so you flip over, still hugging a pillow and slowly open your eyes. 
At the doorway, two men peer in with their arms crossed. 
You wave sleepily, “G’morning guys…”
“Morning, bunny. You have a good sleep last night?”
“Yeah, I—” you yawn, “—love Ari’s bed. It’s so big and warm… nothing like mine.” 
“That’s a good thing since you’ll be staying here a while.” Curtis gestures to the side of the room currently occupied by a few of your bags and some stuffies. “Ari had us pick up some stuff from your dorm.”
Your heart swells, you missed this so dearly. 
You missed hanging out at their frat house every day, listening to them joke around and say the most vulgar things. Most of all, you missed having zero worries. Ari made everything as easy as possible for you, and you wouldn’t have it any other way, regardless of what your controlling friends thought. A part of you only wishes you realized that sooner. 
“Thank you.” You smile softly, “Did you two go to the party last night?”
Curtis waves dismissively, “Nah, we stayed in. You know coach and his dumb rules.” 
You pout. “Yeah… Wish you could’ve came though, it was fun.” You try to recall the previous night, but only get glimpses of strobe lights, cute spooky goodies and getting fucked stupid. Your cheeks heat up, “Uhm… from what I remember anyway.” 
“It’s alright, we had our own fun. Right, Buck?”
The brunet nods, almost too enthusiastically. “Most definitely. I look forward to having that much fun again.” 
“I wanna have fun too!” You lazily blink at them, not even noticing your breast peeking out from under the covers. “Can I join next time?”
Bucky chuckles deeply, “I think you’d have to ask your daddy that question, bunny. We have big boy fun, nothing that your little head could handle.” 
You give them your best pout and even clasp your hands under your chin. 
“Nice try, sweetie, but we aren’t big softies like your boyfriend.” Curtis snorts playfully, “speaking of, he made you breakfast.”
On the surface of the bedside table is a full platter of pancakes, fruit and juice. You squirm all giddily, “Ah yay! He is a big softie, right? Just a jumble of all the nicest, sweetest, kindest things!” 
How ironic of you to say that as Ari walks up the stairs, freshly showered with his hair still dripping on his shoulders. “You two are still here?” He asks. 
“We’re just checking up on the little bunny. Making sure she’s not going anywhere.” 
Ari quirks a brow, “As if she could walk after last night.” 
The two of them know all too much about that. After all, Ari had them help clean the bedroom and bring you back home. You were knocked out cold the entire time and snoring. None the wiser to the men stripping the bedroom of all traces of anyone’s presence. 
When they arrived at the frat house, you were clad in Ari’s shirt, bunny ears, and covered in cum, spit and tears. 
They thought you’ve never looked better. 
Bucky tuts, “you know, went through a lot of trouble for that little dummy in your bed. Isn’t just perfect how she doesn’t remember a damn thing?” 
The two other men hum in agreement, studying your sleepy face as you blindly eat the pancakes, humming, swaying and never once opening your eyes. 
“I’d do it again. Wouldn’t you?” Curtis asks. 
Bucky is silent for a few moments, only staring at Ari with that sinister smirk on his lips. “In a heartbeat.” 
“You sound awfully eager…” 
“What can I say? I had fun—and your little bunny wants to join next time too.”
“Absolutely not— ” Ari is cut off by the front door downstairs slamming open. 
Steve’s voice rings out, “I hope everyone’s awake! I just ransacked the farmers market and am in a baking mood, so music will be blasting all day!” 
The three men sigh softly at the obnoxious pop song ratting the house. They glance between the stairs and you, who was still eating your breakfast—except now there were pieces of fruit and syrup on your face, and you’ve reclined on the bed, undoubtedly making a damn mess on Ari’s clean sheets. 
“We’re just surrounded by idiots, huh?”
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𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: once again, thank you very much for being patient with me !! i often find myself adding and moving parts while editing, so for me, editing can take a long while and sometimes a whole day. i don't write much of anything 'sneaky dark' if you get what i mean, so i hope you all enjoyed dark ghostface ex bf!ari !! he was fun to write !! I also wrote most of this fic while listening to brown noise, it helped me focus a lot.
𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! here are the rest of my upcoming kinktober fics: ˗ˏˋ𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗
As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! <3 — ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼
I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲
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Text
Look at you
Pairing: Captain Hydra x Reader
Warnings: Dark fic, 18+, Steve is not a good guy in this, stalking, obsession, kidnapping, mentions of fighting, murder in self-defense, mentions of blood, stabbing, cursing, threats, intimidation, smut (non-con, unprotected sex (STDs are no joke, make sure you're using protection), rough sex, praising, degradation, multiple creampies, excessive cum, fingering, multiple rounds, passing out during sex). 😬
A/N: This is a VERY DARK work of FICTION, please DO NOT READ if any of the warnings trigger you, you are a minor or you find any of them disturbing. 🙏
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Steve has been observing the scene from the shadows. He liked playing with his food first and you looked absolutely delicious. Prim and proper woman, with your perfectly pressed white shirt, now sporting crumpled sleeves from when his men grabbed you and brought you to him.
He loved seeing the fight-or-flight response live. There was something so satisfying seeing all thoughts running through his victims’ head as if they didn't know they were so transparent. In most cases everyone's first instinct was to flee from seven potential assailants, but then there was you.
It was almost liberating to see you scanning the room for something. Everyone's eyes stopped at the door, but yours skipped through it as if you knew escape wasn't an option.
Steve was surprised when your eyes stopped at the corner of the room where the pool sticks were neatly put away after yesterday's game of pool. Shoving one of the men away you made a beeline for the sticks, kicking back at another man as he grabbed at your hips to stop you and grabbing one of the sticks before breaking it over your knee.
After that it was like watching a play at the opera. His men fell one by one, some were stabbed, some were unconscious and the last one was pinned to the wall. You thought you had won. If you could call killing people a win...Your victory was short-lived as clapping pulled you out of your trans.
"Well well well, look at you." Steve's voice was low, tainted in amusement as he circled you. Specs of blood littered your face and your previously pristine white shirt. Your grip on the broken wooden pool stick tightened as something similar to panic started rising in your chest. You knew this man.
Steve Rogers.
Captain Hydra.
The man that everyone feared. And you knew at that moment that this was all for nothing. You were in the belly of the beast and even if you managed to run away, you wouldn't get far.
"Come on, Gorgeous, this isn't the time to give up. Show me that fire again. I loved the show you just put on for me." Steve gripped your chin, making you meet his cold blue eyes. He could see how you were trying to decipher his words, trying to understand if he was serious. Your hands pushed him away the next second and for the sake of being dramatic Steve stumbled a few steps back, as if you actually had the strength to match a super soldier.
"Why am I here?" You demanded, but your voice betrayed you. You both knew you were scared, but too proud to actually just stand there and surrender. And that's what Steve liked about you. He found another one that will put up a fight and it made his whole body tremble in anticipation of what's to come.
"I got bored of my previous toy and I needed a new one." He said nonchalantly. Your face contorted in disgust.
"Why me?"
"I liked the fire in you." He cocked his head to the side, observing you and you shifted your stance as his eyes wondered down your body. You have never felt more exposed while fully clothed as you did in this moment. "When you slapped your date when he went in to grab your ass." A shudder ran down your spine. He has been watching you.
"What? Did you think I picked you at random?" He let out a chuckle. "Oh, Sweetheart, I've been watching you for weeks. I saw all those little dances in your underwear when you thought no one was paying attention even though you never closed the curtains." Steve took a step towards you and your legs trembled, but still you took a step back. "And I heard all those phone calls to your friends and home visits. I heard all the songs you sang in the shower. And all those little moans you let out in your bedroom." He was standing in front of you, your back against the wall and his breath tickled your ear, making you shiver. There was nowhere to run or hide anymore. He consumed everything in your field of vision. "Oh, Doll, you have no idea what you did to me." He reveled in the paralyzing fear you exhumed.
"P-People will know I'm gone." You tried challenging.
"No they won't. You just took a sabbatical and are volunteering in Colombia." His hand caressed you face in a loving matter. "And depending on how long I'll find you interesting, that's how long your volunteering trip is going to last as well as your time alive on this Earth."
You turned away from him as tears stung your eyes. He kissed the top of your head, making you shut your eyes and tears fall down your cheeks. Clenching your teeth, you refused to sob for the man in front of you.
"It'll be alright, Doll. I can make it good for you, make you enjoy the last moments of your life." His hands wandered over your pulse point and gripping your hips, pulling you to him. "But only if you behave."
Panic started consuming you, more tears blurred your vision as the situation he described sunk into your soul.
What are you going to do to escape this monster? There has to be something - anything. The promises he made, made you nauseous.
Your vision focused on the knife that was poking out of one of the unconscious men. If you could just get your hands on the knife...maybe you could do some damage. Or at least piss him off so much that he kills you on the spot. Anything was better than the insinuation Captain Hydra made.
"What do you want from me?" You finally asked, still refusing to look at him.
"Giving up so soon?" Steve mocked. "I want you to keep me company, especially after missions." He smirked as he thought of all the scenarios of when and how he's going to play with you. Bile rose in your throat as you imagined it, but sensing that Steve relaxed for a second, you dove for the knife, grabbing it just in time as he grabbed your ankle to pull you back to him. You let yourself be dragged towards him, before slashing across his arm and scrambling to your feet, running around the pool table stationed in the middle of the room.
"Bitch." Steve smirked and licked at his wound. He could see how fast your chest was raising and falling. He knew you were scared and panicking, seeking an exit. Like a cornered animal faced with a predator. He liked games like this.
"What's the plan, Doll?" He asked as you rotated around the table.
"I'm improvising." You bit back.
"There's no escape. Even if you manage to kill me, by some miracle, we are so far underground that you will never come back to surface again. But if you play nice...I might even let you see the sun and breathe some fresh air again." Steve offered, but you shook your head. You weren't delusional, overpowering a super soldier was never going to happen but...he could at least put you out of your own misery and just kill you. As you walked around the pool table again, you quickly tried running at the bar, to grab some alcohol to throw at him, making the wound sting. Steve jumped over the pool table grabbing at the knife to pull it out of your hand, but you turned just in the right second and stabbed his calf, making him yell out in pain. Your victory was short-lived as he grabbed you by the neck, twisting you around and slamming you on the pool table, keeping you pinned by the neck. Your hands searched the pool table for something to grip or throw or hit him with, but all they encountered was the soft surface.
"I was going to play nice, Doll, but fuck this little stunt just cost you that privilege." He pulled the knife out of his wound and cut through your jeans, pulling them apart, exposing your ass to his eyes. He ran his fingers over your slit, making you squirm, wanting to get away from him, but he kept you in one place with his strength.
"Relax, I'm not going in without at least a bit of prep. I don't want to ruin you for the rest of our time together." Steve whispered into your ear as his fingers entered you and started exploring the dry hole. He went deep, deeper than you could ever reach alone and he found your spot that always made your eyes roll to the back of your head.
"Ah there it is." He smirked as he started massaging that spot and juices started collecting around your entrance. Your body started responding on its own and your hips started meeting his invading fingers.
"There we go, nice and wet." Steve pulled his fingers out of you and licked them clean, before you could hear his pants coming off. Warning bells sounded in your head and you tried lifting yourself up, gathering all your strength, but you were immediately slammed back down and a sharp slap landed over your pussy, making you whimper.
"Be a good little girl and take this cock." Was all he said before he slammed into you. Steve groaned as his tip kissed your cervix and he saw your hands balling into fists. He knew he just broke you. You weren't broken yet, but he'll get you there soon.
"You fit like a glove." He commented with a smile and pulled almost completely out before slamming in again. Your poor pussy took his assault as he unleashed his stress and punishment. And he unleashed it over and over again. He kept fucking you for the next few hours, making both of you cum too many times. Pain turned to pleasure and then back to pain as he pulled orgasm after orgasm out of you. You were completely spent, barely hanging on to consciousness, your abused overstuffed pussy leaked his cum and it oozed onto the pool table and the floor. But Steve was still hard.
"Come on, I'm ready for another round." He slapped your pussy again and your knees buckled, too sensitive from all the rough treatment you received from the super soldier. Steve was unbothered by your state, grabbing one of your legs, he put it on top of the pool table, exposing your messy pussy to him.
"Did my little hole had enough?" He chuckled as he gripped his cock and ran it through your pussy lips, making you whimper.
"Please. Too much." You begged, barely above a whisper. Clenching your pussy, you tried with the last ounce of strength to make him stop, be he just chuckled at your futile attempt.
"I'm not done with you. You only rest when I say so." The super soldier said before he slammed into you again. You yelled out in pain as your walls were met with another intrusion. Your vision blurred as his hand pressed your clit harshly, trying to make you cum again. You couldn't fight him anymore and your eyes closed, as you chased unconsciousness and the last thing that crossed your mind as Steve made you cum, was how much of this you'll be able to take if this was going to continue.
Thank you for reading! 🙏💙
The picture was taken off Pinterest (though I think it's actually from DeviantArt) so all credit for the picture goes to the artist! 😊🙏
I think this is the darkest thing I have ever written 😬 trifect of abuse - physical, mental and sexual abuse...sorry about that 😬😅
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hushroomloser · 1 month
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Chris Evans Short Story Part 8
Part 8 
Pairing: ReaderxChrisEvans 
Request: Meeeee 
Prompt: “I’m sorry I thought you were somebody else”
Warning(s): I’m a first-time writer
Word count: 586
A/N: Hey online strangers, I wrote the first part a while back and have the rest of the story in my drive but have never posted it. This story I wrote way back in 2019 :'(. I will be posting at random times if you stay and read it thank you so much. Enjoy xoxox - I have no idea how many parts this story and technically I haven’t an ending yet. 
The dreaded block has come and taken me. That and university seems to enjoy giving me some solid sucker-punches every few days. Alas like life I might have given up on this story and writing it altogether. I do not know who’s enjoying this mess of a story. Lol, anywho I will update once again in a blue moon and edit all of the parts to make them more coherent. Especially now that AI can write cry ... my unattainable dreams
Xoxo 
From a tired girly 
White, red and purple consumed the cafeteria, filled with residents, doctors and other health professionals. Rush hour had yet to peak, and yet it was slowly starting to fill up. 
Maybe we shouldn’t have coffee here, he thought. 
Chris roamed around the hospital to find the best spot to grab a quick drink. Unfamiliar with the place he had gotten lost a few times, asking strangers to the nearest exit every time. 
“Hey, you’re that guy right.” 
Dreading it, he hadn’t been recognized yet, mostly because everyone seemed busy. He did not mind taking a picture and talking with a fan but he did not want to be late for his date, especially since he hadn’t found a place to take her yet. He turned around, looking at the person who had called him. 
“Hi, I think so.” 
In his shyness, he managed to smile at the tall stranger wearing a lab coat. He took a quick glance at the name embroidered on his coat, the name was Doctor Gagnon. 
“Are you looking for Lizzy, uhm Dr. Kelley by any chance?” Frowning his brows, he wondered how he knew this specific doctor. A little sad that maybe hospital gossip had been playing a major role in his interaction. 
His anxiety had been slowly elevated when the stranger seemed to recognize the emotion on his face, feeling his uneasiness towards him he quickly said “I am her finance, if that helps, do not worry she hasn’t told anyone. I just know because she texted me about the girl that hit you at the coffee shop.” he giggled thinking about her hitting the Captain. 
Chris did not know why he would giggle or if it was an inside joke or anything he was just surprised at how this stranger, this doctor had been so nonchalant about who he was. He had been used to people being starstruck, especially after playing Captain America. 
He paused and looked at him, he was beautiful even for a straight man the guy he was staring at was a very beautiful man, the movies did not do him justice he thought. 
“Do not worry”, he laughed 
“I won’t tell anyone that I saw the Chris Evans''
“What are you looking for?” the gentle giant asked. He wondered if people got scared of him because of his demeanour and his height. He was a very imposing and confident man compared to him, 
Chris did not know what to think, the giant seemed so nice. “Uhmm thank you, I was just looking for a private coffee shop in this honestly big hospital. “ he started to ramble, ·” How is this soooo big but looks soo small I feel like I am in a maze”, he told the stranger, he felt at ease for some reason telling him of his struggles. The strangers giggled and said, “Yeah I am still confused about it and I have been here for like 5 years it is a very strange place.” 
“The coffee shop next to the parking lot at the end of the hallway should be private enough if you are bringing her there.” he smiled. 
Chris wondered how he knew but he guessed that they were all friends. Chris smiled back, shyly not knowing what to say. 
‘Thank you”, he said shyly, he was truly embarrassed that someone had figured out what he wanted to do. He did not know what to say or add he just stared at the stranger, a very handsome stranger to boot.
….. 
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steverogersfanfic · 1 month
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What if Marvel, Wattpad, and Tiktok had a baby...?
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bookishtheaterlover7 · 2 months
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Hi, everyone! Just wanna share this very short story fiction that i wrote. Just to have a little break on all of this stuff. I want to remain anonymous. I just copy paste this from my notes. Hope you enjoy the reading.😊😁
Short Story 2
  She was looking at the crowd filled with influential and powerful people. She was standing on the right side of her friend while listening intently to their conversations. A photographer passed by and take a few photos of them. She was wearing a dark blue slacks, a cream polo shirt paired with a white shoes. CE was behind her and keep staring at her ass. She can feel someone was staring at her because she gets a sudden sharp and warm feeling on her neck.
After that she feels a warm hands touching her butt. She was shocked and surprised. She wants to confront that person touching her but she don't want to get everyones' attention. 'WTF? IN A PUBLIC PLACE FULL OF PEOPLE? DAMN THIS PERVERT!'. Without him noticing, she quickly grab some of his fingers, squeeze it hard and bent it towards him.
CE: Ah, shit! Fuck! (He whispered silently so no one would notice)
She slowly turn back and look at the perpetrator and that anger her more.
CE  look at her with his eyes wide open.
She squeezed his fingers harder. CE bit his lips to control the pain.
You should keep your hands to yourself, she said.
And she pushed his fingers towards his stomach and shove him a little harder backward. He take a few steps backward to stop himself from stumbling. She then turns back towards and grumbled. CE just scratched his head on what happened.
N🫶nnie... This is such a cute short story!!!
And a pretty good distraction from what's going on...
You can send more if you'd like. I wouldn't mind reading and sharing more of your writings. 😁
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chasingmidnights · 8 months
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The T. Swift Project
Title: Long Story Short
Pairing: Jake Jensen x reader
Warnings: 18+ only, minors DNI! I really think that the only thing that you need to look out is some angst. I apologize if I miss anything but you are responsible for what you read!
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When you first met Jake, you were just coming out of a rough patch in your life.
You tried to pick your battles but eventually you fell off of your pedestal.
Misery followed you everywhere and you felt your walls crumbling.
You had clung to the nearest lips and well, long story short, it was the wrong guy.
But Jake was there to pull you from the rabbit hole you'd been fallin' down.
Now, you were all about him and you lived in peace.
You couldn't help but think about how well he treated you compared to the other guys.
The longer you were with Jake, the more you wanted to drop you swords and throw them in the bushes. You were tired of all of the battles.
Long story short, you were once in a bad place with the wrong guy.
You were fallin' down a rabbit hole when Jake pulled you out. Now you were all about him and living in peace.
You remembered how you thought that if someone came at the two of you, this time you'd be ready.
Long story short.
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r-f-m-writes · 5 months
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A Lark in a Hollow; early draft sneak peak.
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The airport was cold, crowded, and confusing to Lark as she shuffled beside Christopher, the fraying straps of her backpack clutched in a white knuckled grip like they were lifelines. There was a rustle and movement at her right side.
Christopher fleece lined jacket was heavy and warm when he laid it over her tremoring shoulders, his left hand gently nudging her side.
“Want me to carry that?”
Lark’s backpack held everything she owned. The straps were making her shoulders ache.
It was shrugged off and passed to Christopher in a moment.
“Thank you.”
At hearing her speak for the second time, she saw his eyebrows rise a fraction, eyes widening, but he made no comment and swung the bag over one shoulder.
Lark had remembered him.
She could have been six or ten, the memories were so blurry – endless waves of tossing onto her back and looking at the white net canopy hung above her, or rolling on her side, staring through bleary eyes at the blinking curtain of golden fairy lights strung between the bars of her bed’s frame.
She had recognized him the second she stepped into Miss Poppy’s office at the group home, his wide frame crowded into a green faux-leather chair in front of the wooden desk. The tan work boots he wore were nearly identical to the ones that had stepped into her view off the edge of her bed years before.
She recalled her mother coming to her constantly, feeding her thin soups, water, some sort of medicine that tasted sickly sweet. Perhaps she remembered him because he was a break in the routine, an abrupt presence that shook a bit of the fever out of her.
 “- you’re the only person who knows how this works. I can’t take her to a doctor, they have to report these cases. I’m scared they’ll take her, Chris.”
The airplane tilted to the right. Lark gripped both armrests tightly. Christopher chuckled.
“Don’t worry. ‘s supposed to do that.”
Miss Poppy’s smile was tired and kind as she gestured from Lark to the man and began to explain Lark’s options. Stay at Miss Poppy’s Home for Girls until she aged out of the system in another month and was forced to leave alone– or fly with a strange man she had only one memory of to a town in the mountains where she could stay for as long as she wanted with every expense paid, safety promised.
The floor creaked under unfamiliar footsteps.
The boots stepped into her view in the same moment that rough skin with a gentle touch met her forehead. His hand felt twice as big as her father’s.
“Did she show any symptoms before? Aggression? Tremors?”
Her mother crossed arms over her chest. Lark saw her hair, golden and soft even though it was unbrushed with its ends splitting.
“She had tremors two days before the fever started. Stopped talking, too.”
~~~
Lark was woken by bars of golden light spilling in pillars along the white painted ceiling of a room she was starting to feel comfortable in. Outside there was the far away sound of rushing water and birds singing, the flutter and rustle of their wings chased away the fog of sleep lingering over Lark, making her sit up in a flash, fists gripping soft white sheets as she remembered.
Rough forest floor flying under bear feet, freezing air rolling over naked skin, every sound and smell sharp and terrifying, animals running in disoriented droves as they were startled awake by the thing that crashed through their home.
She had never been in a forest before, moon bright silver in the black sky, trees expanding before and behind her, endless green in the leaves of trees and moss growing thick on their trunks. The sudden freedom had made her other half wild, manic, sent it racing towards something Lark didn’t understand.
When she was small, she thought the murky memories were bad dreams, nightmares stitched together using places from her waking life – but they were real, and as Lark slid on sock clad feet around the wooden banister at the top of the stairs, she prayed there would be nothing for her to find downstairs.
Panting, pacing, nails turned to claws dragging white lines over thin skin before hooking down into the slick smarmy red of flesh and bone that made her nostrils flare and mouth flush with saliva.
Blood didn’t taste like copper when she was that way. It was warm and full and sweet on her tongue unlike anything else she had ever eaten. The memory made her hungry and sick all at once as she reached the landing, looking for him, frantic, frightened.
The soft click and clatter of dishes being stacked in the kitchen made Lark heave, staggering around the corner to the doorway where she watched the tall figure of Christopher rinsing a bowl in the stainless-steel sink, hair mussed from sleep, onion and ham omelets cooking on the stove.
Lark was only able to observe him unnoticed for a handful of seconds before he turned around, draping a tea towel over his shoulder and smiling at her wide enough for the corners of his eyes to crinkle.
“Morning. Omelets ok for breakfast? Don’t have much in the house, gotta pick some things up at the markets.”
Lark nodded, padding through the kitchen, eyes flitting from place to place as Christopher spoke, searching for some outward evidence of what she must have done the night before.
She found nothing.
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evans-heaven · 2 years
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Its national pet day...so people are posting photos of their pets....Chris Evans has a pet....does anyone see where I'm going with this...
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callmissrogers · 1 month
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There You Are Sweetheart. | Steve Rogers x Reader One Short.
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Summary: Y/n just wanted to bring her sister a package. What she didn't expect was being picked on by two soldiers or being rescued by a handsome stranger.
Steve Rogers x Reader
Word count: 1,909
Warnings: fluff and some goofiness. Y/n does get harassed by some jerks, but nothing happens. Let me know if I missed anything.
Note: very minimal editing and gold stars to anyone who catches what this is a reference to.
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It's beginning to feel like spring. The cherry blossoms have sprung into bloom, and Y/n has a date to bring her sister, Felicity, a package that was delivered to her house whilst Felicity was away. On the way there, her horrible sense of direction has her taking a wrong turn and into the pathway of some soilders on their lunch break. Will Y/N end up in some sort of trouble, or will someone dashing come to her rescue? Read to find out.
Hey! I'll be at on a coffee shop today at 3... Could you bring me my package then? It's a little hole in the wall place by all the fancy vintage stores you like.
Of course, Felicity would want to meet at a coffee shop. Y/n was positive her sweet younger sister couldn't survive even a couple of hours without a caffeine kick.
She looked around her office (which was really her apartment) for an excuse to stay in, but couldn't find any. All of the outfits that needed tailoring had already been tailored.
Plus, really, she hadn't seen her sister for a while, and they needed to catch up. Y/n just hated going out in the late afternoon. It meant that she'd likely be heading back during rush hour and would end up eating dinner late. If there was anything that y/n didn't appreciate, was having her routine messed up. . . She was well aware that she lived like a little old lady sometimes.
Closer to time, she got dressed in an outfit that was fit to be seen in. Her baby pink lounge set was incredibly comfortable for working long hours at home, but it was hardly a fashion statement.
The coffee shop in question was about 15 blocks away from her place, so she decided to walk. Admittedly, this probably wasn't the best idea in the world. Y/n has a tendency to get lost in her local grocery store.
So, with an earphone in one ear, she listened to her favorite oldies playlist, as life was better when it had a soundtrack and was on her way.
A few blocks down, she took a left down an alley that was its own hole in the wall. It held a bar favored by military members and directly across from that there was a karaoke pizza joint. Y/n always thought that made an odd coupling.
Tho, a part of her wondered if the college girls who favored the pizza place went there just for the chance of getting with an army man without any understanding of what military life was really like.
She was musing on this when two soldiers stepped out directly in front of her and thereby blocked her pathway.
"Um. Excuse me." She gasped, trying to get around them.
"Looks like this little mouse lost her way," one of them joked, taking a swig from his beer bottle.
She shook her head, "Oh no, I'm not lost."
The second soldier peered down at her with a grin on his face and then said, "This little mouse looks thirsty. We should take her to get a drink."
Y/n was beginning to get nervous, and she had no idea how she was going to get out of this situation. She had never had any issues cutting through here before, but now she was wishing she had taken the route that passed the pet store instead.
All she could think to say was, "No thanks, my sister is waiting for me." Hopping that by knowing she had some place to be that they would just leave her be.
But they just shared a glance, laughing to themselves before the one of the right replied with a "We've heard that excuse before." Then the one on the left winked at her and said, "She's actually pretty cute for a mouse."
His pal chuckled and then reached out to place a hand on her shoulder, "How old are you anyway? Live close by?"
Now they were both getting uncomfortably close, and y/n had a terrible vision about being stuck having to sit in this bar with them until they had gone from just tipsy to black out drunk.
"Leave me alone!" She tried to yell, but it came out as more of a loud statement.
"You see, your personality scares all the girls."So I think she's cuter when she's scared."
She was done for, body stiffening up, hands trembling, trying not to drop the package.
"There you are, sweetheart," someone said behind her. Only when someone tucked their arm around hers and pulled her from the soldiers' grasp did she realize that the stranger was talking to her.
But she certainly didn't know anyone who would call her that. That much she was sure of.
"I'm sorry I'm late." He said, gazing down at her. She had to crane her neck just to look him in the eye. He was a tall, blond headed man with strong features. His bright blue eyes bore into hers with concern.
Did she know this man? No. No, she did not. But all she could manage to do in response to his saving her from these two was to open and close her mouth repeatedly.
"I've been looking for you everywhere." Her rescuer continued acting like they knew each other. Not only knew each other but were in some sort of relationship.
Oh boy, was y/n's head spinning now.
"Hey man, we were just talking to your girl here." One of the soilders tried to explain.
Her rescuer looked at the pair and then said, "Really? It looked to me like you were trying to force a lady into drinks after she said no. Time to learn some boundaries, gentlemen. We'll be going." And then he gently led her up and out of the alleyway, only stopping once they were completely out of sight of the bar.
"Are you ok?" He asked, his head tilting to get a better look at her face. This man had to at least be 6"2, and he made y/n feel positively tiny.
Taking a deep breath, she nodded. "I will. I will never take that street again. That's for sure."I'm sorry that it did. Letting off steam is no excuse to treat a lady that way."
"Thank you. . . I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't come along like that." She said, pulling the hem of her cardigan sleeve.
"I was just doing what anyone should do in a situation like that,"
"But. Can I ask-- No nevermind." She mumbled, feeling her cheeks heat up from embarrassment.
"No, no. Go on, please, " He encouraged, actually seeming eager to hear her out.
"Wh - why'd you pretend to be my boyfriend or something?" She asked, feeling really, really stupid.
Now he was blushing.
"To be honest, ma'am, it was the only thing I could think of on the spur of the moment." He said with a nervous laugh.
When her phone chimed, y/n pulled it out to see a text from Felicity.
where are you?
"Well, I thought it was smart. . . You're very much the gentlemen." She said with a smile, feeling much more relaxed than she had a moment ago.
He looked like he was about to say something when her phone chimed again
Beginning to freak out a bit, sis. Are you ok?
Y/n sighed, looking from the phone screen up to her rescuer. "I should... I should probably get going. My sister's getting worried about me."
"Where is it you're headed? If you don't mind me asking." He asked, shoving his hands in his pockets. How was it possible for someone to look so at ease and yet so uncomfortable at the same time?
"She wanted to meet at a coffee shop a few blocks away from here." Y/n replied, adjusting her bag and trying to look anywhere but at him.
They made quite the pair.
After shifting from foot to foot for a moment, he said, "I could walk you."
Y/n didn't know why, but that small gesture made her smile in the biggest way.
"Really? You don't have to."Ah. Well, now I'm invested after all. I've been looking for you all day." He said, matching her smile. If she could read his mind right now, she'd know that he just congratulated himself for coming up with something that was smooth as a response
So he offered her his arm again, and the pair made their way to the coffee shop.
Meandering past store fronts and other businesses as they went.
"This is it." Y/n fianlly said, stopping in her tracks.
It was a coffee shop that looked like it hadn't aged for about 60 years.
"I love this side of town," He said as a response.
"Things feel a little more normal here." "More normal?" Y/n asked, not understanding what he meant by that statement.
"That would be a very long story that we don't have time for at the present moment." He said again, smiling down at her.
"Oh. I see." Y/n giggled at her own confusion. This man saved her, escorted her to meet her sister, and now adds some mystery to the mix.
"I'll let you go. Don't want to worry that sister of yours anymore." He said with a tip of his head and he started to walk away.
"Wait!" Y/n blurted, forgetting herself. He turned to face her again, judging by the expression on his face, he was surprised by her sudden outburst. Then his brows shot up as if to say, "Go on."
"What's -whats your name?" She asked, willing herself to hold onto this bold feeling long enough to get this out.
He smiled and then said, "Steve Rogers."
Y/n's eyes widened, and her boldness melted into total embarrassment. Perhaps she was drugged or something to be out of her mind enough to not realize she had been with not just some kind stranger off the street, but rather CAPTAIN AMERICA. And he had called her "sweetheart", even if he hadn't really meant it, he had still said it.
She would dream about that for the next month while she hemmed dresses.
"Miss. Miss!" Steve said, having come closer again to get her attention. Y/n jumped when she realized he was right in front of her.
"Sorry. I'm y/n y/l/n. "
"Well, y/n y/l/n," He said, reaching into his pocket, pulling out a pocket notebook he scribbled something down and then gave it to her. "If you happen to be free this Friday night. There's a restaurant in this neighborhood. Very old timey, like me. . ." He said nervously, laughing again. "We could have a meal, I could tell you that story and I could learn more about you. I mean, aside from the fact that you have a sister and listen to 'Sh Boom' when you walk around the city."
He had noticed what she had been listening to?
All y/n could do was squeak a "yes." Before running back into the coffee shop and slamming the door in his face.
Felicity looked up in surprise, "What took you so long? Are you ok?"
Y/n sat down and, in one breath, said, "I think Captain America just asked me out on a date, and I said yes."
NOTE: I wrote this in one sitting, and at first, I thought it was sweet. Now, I think I might have actually made it corny. I'm going with it anyways but please let me know what you thought of it. Thanks!
Note 2: Part 3 of 'That's my Girl' will be coming out soonish keep an eye out!
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f10werfae · 1 year
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That ass though
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pairing: Husband!Dad!Chris x Short!Wife!Mom!Reader
Summary: Y/n is on another one of her missions of teasing Chris, everyone knows he’s an ass man, but who knew leggings had so much power?
Disclaimer: This story is fiction and should not be taken literally, the behaviour is simply imaginative and the content may be inappropriate
Warnings: Smut
Requests are open/Likes, Comments and Re-blogs are appreciated♥️
Chris Evans Masterlist, Full Masterlist, Taglist Form
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“Look Noah, it’s mama” Chris said holding up Noah's hand to wave it at his momma, Noah's face widening with a smile as his arms stretched out for Y/n to hold him.
“Woah hold on, when did ya get these?” Chris asked his wife smirking slightly, his fingers looping themselves inside her waistband to tug her closer to him. Noah who was in her arms had his head tucked into the crook of her neck, his arms barely wrapping around her due to how small he still was.
“Hmm what do you mean?” Y/n asked playing coy, her hands smoothing over the top of Noah’s head, his tiny coos filling the kitchen.
“I think you know what I mean baby, lookin' good enough to eat over here” He groaned suddenly groping her ass aggressively, even slapping it just to watch it jiggle in his palm, God was he mesmerised.
“Stop it Chris, your son’s here” Y/n laughed padding about the kitchen, trying to lull the clearly restless Noah into a soft sleep. Before Chris took Noah out of her arms and said he was off to put him down in his crib for a while, although we all know he had an ulterior motive.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
“I’m a lucky man” Chris groaned sipping on a cold beer, leaning on the edge of the counter just watching his wife move about the kitchen gracefully.
“Chris I didn’t actually think you’d like them this much? I mean Nancy said it worked wonders but- OW”
Y/n squealed jumping up a little, Chris’ hands coming behind her to give her one hell of a spank, I mean she always knew he was an ass man. We all knew. Turning around to face him, Y/n felt herself swoon at his charming smile and the animalistic growls coming from his mouth as he grabbed and kneaded her ass.
“What’d ya say we get that ass outta those leggings and we can have some fun before our baby wakes up? Man I just love your fuckin’ body” He whispered, his hands grabbing onto her love handles gently, his lips pressing an affection kiss onto her forehead.
“Well I guess it wouldn’t hurt to have a little fun, how fast do you think you can cum?”
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
(Chris' P.O.V)
“Come on Chrissy, give it back” my wife moaned as I gently slid my hardened cock out of her slippery fuck hole, the sounds of her sopping wet cunt filling the room. Her eyes half lidded with her hands intertwined with mine, her hips slowly started to roll against the air.
Slapping my cock on her swollen lips, I heard her wince and whimper, her beautiful tits sitting there perked up looking pretty.
“Come on baby, look at your pretty puffy pussy, knew I missed her” I taunted slowly pushing myself back in, her breath getting caught in her throat as her hands now held onto my forearms which were by my stomach.
“Look at me. Be a good girl, and cum on my fat cock”
(Y/n's P.O.V)
Chris slammed his hips repeatedly into mine, whispering things like “my beautiful perfect wife, all pretty for me to worship”
My arms now linked around his neck, my eyes starting to close due to the immense pleasure coursing through my body.
"Your body is fucking perfect. I'm obsessed with it. I'm not cumming until you do. So, cum for me."
“Nuh uh, you’re gonna cum first” I smirked finding the strength in me to roll him over so I was on top, his eyes widening before accompanying that famous smirk on his face
(Chris’ P.O.V)
“Oh fuck you’re gonna make me squirt hun, fuck” I watched as her body bounced up and down on my cock, watching as she leaned back a bit to start messing with her clit,
“You’re mine” She moaned now hunkering down on my cock, slamming herself down onto it with as much force as she could.
“Yeah? What else mama? Fuckin’ talk to me while you play yourself stupid on my cock. You take such good care of our baby, my own milf”
“I wan’ another baby, want to be so full of you and want everyone to see it. God maybe you can give me twins this time baby? I know how much you loved seein these tits fill up with milk, and seein me all round for you”
She moaned grabbing my hands and putting them onto her tits, her body moving crazily almost as if she was out of control.
“You gonna let me knock you up good? Maybe I should keep you that away”
I watched her body writhe as she bit her lip staring at me directly in the eyes before I felt her squirt her juices all over us both, her hips humping the air as my limp cock fell out of her pussy after filling her up at the same time.
“Baby, oh, you’re milking my cock”
“Fuck fuck, fuuuu”
Grabbing onto her arm I pulled her down for her lips to meet mine, the remnants of her cum filling both of our mouths, letting her taste her sweet self. My hands groping each and every single part of her body that it could reach, her small frame caged in my body, her tongue licking up the mess she made on my face like some animal.
“Was that fast enough for ya?” I teased watching her flop onto my chest, her head in the middle of my chest with her hands holding onto my shoulders. Lifting her head all dazed, she nodded placing a wet open mouthed kiss on me, the sounds of our tongues meeting filling the room.
“This is what painters are inspired by” I whispered cupping her face in my hands,
“The hell are you talkin about?”
“You’re so goddamn beautiful, are you really my wife?”
———
Taglist Tags (Form is up there^^): @meetmeatyourworst @cevansgurl @imboredat2am @adoreyouusugar @pandaxnienke @patzammit @seren-a-ity @thereisa8ella @evanstanwhore @chrisevansdaughter @chrisevansangel @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @royalwriteroftheuniverse @uwiuwi @jackslover12 @bxdbxtxh15 @madebylilly @marvelgurl @fdl305 @stormcloudss @caps-shield1918 @xoxokiaraaxoxo @mirikusashes @taramaria @mysticfalls01 @sairsei @dumb-fawkin-bitch @vrittivsanghavi @kimhtoo17 @itsaylayay1213 @mrspeacem1nusone
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Psycho
Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Reader
Warnings: Both Lloyd and Reader are a bit psychotic in this so be warned, mentions of fighting, implied torture, murder, one description of injury (the rest is implied), mentions of blood, knives and guns, mentions of brief alcohol consumption and a bunch of threats.
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"So, you're the female version of me?" Lloyd commented with a cock of his head as he observed you. You mimicked his posture and raised one of your perfectly plucked eyebrows.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Good fighter. Smart. Cunning. One of the best in your field. A little bit psychotic?"
"If that description fits you Lloyd then I'm nothing like you. I'm much better. More psychotic too." You smirked.
"What happened, sweetheart? Daddy didn't love you?" He mocked you.
"We can go with that." You pushed away from the wall and stalked towards him. "Or maybe I got my heart broken by my big bad ex-boyfriend." You faked a pout and walked around him.
"Or maybe I just like it when I make people hurt." You stopped in front of him with a smirk.
"I think I'll like working with you." Lloyd smiled, his perfect white teeth showing.
In the months that followed you and Lloyd worked on missions together and while he liked using guns and explosives, you preferred getting close and personal with your target. From hand to hand combat to knives to using ordinary objects for torture. Even Lloyd was surprised by your innovative ways of extracting information.
The latest target was a cocky businessman. He really pissed off your bosses by trading information for money, hiring the best of the best to protect him and his assets. Weeks of observation proved fruitful when Lloyd kicked in the giant entrance door of the appropriate giant house. The businessman ran from the storming duo and hid in his office. He was aware of the reputation Lloyd had and once he saw him at the door he was rightfully fearful for his life. Which is why he was surprised when the office doors opened and Lloyd went to the liquor trolley, pouring himself a drink and sitting down leisurely at the far end of the office.
"W-What's happening?" The man asked, his voice trembling.
"Don't mind me, David, I'm waiting for my associate to arrive. She was tempted by something in your kitchen." Lloyd replied, sipping on the expensive whiskey.
"Aren't you going to kill me?" The businessman gulped.
"I'm not sure what her plan is. Though I can certainly tell you that you're not going to enjoy it...whatever it is." Lloyd smirked.
"You're psychotic."
"Oh, I'm not the psycho today." Lloyd smirked, your heels echoed down the long hallway leading up to the office. "She is. I'm just here to watch." He pointed to the office door, where you just appeared, smiling sweetly at the two men.
"Did I miss anything?" You asked, your voice dripping in honey. While your appearance soothed David, his easiness quickly vanished when he saw the knife you were holding in one of your hand.
"Oh, don't mind this. I collect knives." You smiled at your target, putting the knife on the liquor trolley, walking to the desk and sitting in front of it. Crossing your legs, you motioned to the businessman to sit down. He cautiously sat down and observed you.
"Now, David, you know why we're here. We're not leaving without information and it's up to you how much you suffer while giving that information. So, I'm going to need you to tell me who exactly are the broker, the buyer and the rat."
"I can't tell you that. They're going to destroy me."
"And you think I'm here to drink tea with you?"
"I suppose not. But if I give you information, they're going to come here and kill me. Better you just get things over with and I don't have to be afraid for the rest of my waking days." David leaned towards you. "I'm sure whatever your gorgeous face has in stored for me pales in comparison to what the other would do." His hand slid across the table towards yours. He let out a shrill yell as the knife pierced his palm. Holding the handle and driving it further into the dense wood, you smirked.
"Believe me, everything they'd do to you pales in comparison to what I'm going to do to you." You whispered into his ear. Releasing the knife and standing up, you walked towards Lloyd and grabbed the offered glass of whiskey.
"What are you thinking, Pumpkin?" He asked as he lazily slid his hand over the small of your back. Tapping the glass, you racked your brain, thinking of what you wanted to try. Slapping Lloyd's hand away you turned around and smashed the glass box, where a signed baseball bat was displayed.
"No! You have no idea how much that's worth. Put it back down." David yelled from his position. He was trying hard not to move too much as his hand was still in searing pain.
"Really? Money is what you're still worried about? In this situation I'd be more worried about what a psycho would do to me with it." You mocked, tapping the bat in your other hand, walking toward him. Your heels clicked on the hardwood floor and David twitched with every step you took, brining you closer to him.
"The human body has 206 bones. I suggest you tell me what I want to know or you and I will start the countdown now."
The businessman laid crumpled on the floor, bruised, battered and bloodied. He was barely holding onto life, but he remained alive. You were wiping your hands and props as Lloyd observed your handiwork.
"You did a stellar job, Sunshine." He wrapped his hands around your shoulders, kissing your neck.
"We got what we came here from. You can put him out of his misery if you want to finish the job."
"Oh, come on, there's no fun in killing if I can't play with it first. You don't want to kill him?"
"I just cleaned that knife." You whined as you looked at the long blade.
"You can always shoot him." He whispered as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck.
"You know my stance on guns."
"Messy. Traceable. I know, I know." Lloyd rolled his eyes. You spun around, pushing him to the side and throwing your favourite knife at the businessman, ending his life as it lodged itself in his skull. Pulling Lloyd by his collar, you kissed him hard, before he lifted you up onto the small table and deepened the kiss.
Thank you for reading! 😊💙
The GIF doesn't belong to me - belongs to the amazing creator 🙏😊
I actually haven't written anything in over a month and have been active less...there's been a lot going on 😬 which is also the reason for a very not typical story 😅 I have written several drafts but only this one actually amounted to something 😑 but beggars can't be choosers or something 😑
I had to recheck what I do in the document after the story is over hence why I'm adding this part now 🙈
And of course I had to choose Lloyd, I can't imagine the sea of new stories that will come after the movie drops 🤭😁
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hushroomloser · 8 months
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Chris Evans short story part 7
Pairing: ReaderxChrisEvans 
Request: Meeeee 
Prompt: “I’m sorry I thought you were somebody else”
Warning(s): I’m a first-time writer
Word count: 1171
A/N: Hey online strangers, I wrote the first part a while back and have the rest of the story in my drive but have never posted it. This story I wrote way back in 2019 :'(. I will be posting at random times if you stay and read it thank you so much. Enjoy xoxox - I have no idea how many parts this story and technically I haven’t an ending yet. 
I honestly to god have no more inspiration so this story will just be here for another 3 more years. 
Here I am, whoever is reading this thank you. Because honestly I have reread the other parts and the amount of errors would make my high school english teacher blush. 
Anyways as always enjoy and please if you have any criticisms bad or good I am all ears. 
Kiss from someone who should be writing her thesis right now. 
Bye 
… I am back lol. I have no idea who even is enjoying this but yeah. I wrote this during finals so please excuse everything from it. From the grammar to the plot lol. I shall maybe edit it or something. Honestly didn’t this story needed more parts or anything and plus I am trying my hardest to make into a your name type without writing yourr name cause I never found it cute and plus whenever I read a yn i read out the yn has like yoon for some reason. So yeah 
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“For me?” 
Lowering his gaze, the whole ordeal made him realize that he was not as confident as he initially thought this morning, in front of his mirror, he had prepared such a speech that still made him blush now. And yet, he couldn’t say anything but mumble, “These are for you, to thank you. Yes, to thank you for bringing me here to see a doctor.” 
“Uhm, thanks but it was my fault in the first place.” She giggled and took the flowers. “They smell nice.” Not knowing what to say, they each stayed quiet. 
That silence between them did not feel awkward or anything, it felt good. They each look into each other's eyes knowing how they felt but unable to word it. How could they? They both felt like they were going after someone out of their league. A superstar and a doctor. Their attraction seemed eternal, their need for each seemed as if it could never be burned out. They wanted each other. How could they say; Hey this may be weird but I think I love you. I do not know you but you would fit in my life so perfectly. You would be so right, so perfect and so everything that words could not describe it. How do they tell each other that they mean everything? So, they didn’t say anything, they kept looking at each other. Hoping that the other could feel it.That they could feel their wants and needs for oneself. 
“Code Blue, in room 305, code blue in 305”. They both shook their heads and broke their gazes away. 
“I guess you have to go”, Chris said, a little bit sad that she had to leave. 
“I don’t deal with codes”, looking at him, she wondered if he could sense the need. He should ask her out. Seriously! Maybe she should woman up and ask him herself. She’s an independent woman, it is not that hard. Just say the words. Would you like to go for coffee? See it is easy. Easy in her head, but in rel life, no. It would take so much courage to ask him. But she has to, if she did not he might not come back? He might just leave her, and she did not want that. 
So she took all the courage she had, all the courage she had saved up all those years, even after entering her field. A field that was very much dominated by men. A field that made her rethink a lot of the way she acted, the way she would dress and even speak. 
And she asked him, a bit nervous,
“If you aren't busy, in like 15 min or so would you want of course and if you have the time to grab coffee that is if you are free and available but if you aren’t I would totally understand. You are a busy man. Asking you to coffee would properly mess up your schedule. And all plus you are filming a movie right. I guess you do not have the time. Yeah, it is fine you should not come.” She had managed to say all of that without losing her breath. 
Chris was smiling through it all, he though she’s cute when she’s shy. Acting like it didn’t matter. It surprised him at how well he could read her, especially the lack of knowing much about her. Seeing that she did want to see him agin he did wait much, honestly he was about to ask her out too but she beat him to it. 
“I would love to have coffee with you.”God that smile could cure all the sick she thought.
“I will wait for you at the entrance is that okay.”
She couldn’t say anything after that monologue, not only was she out of it but she had just realized what she did. She asked him out.
Him.
God please if you are here and listening do not make me awkward, which had been a horrible start. Please make this elegant independent woman. Please make me gorgeous in every way possible, make me eloquent. PLEASSEEE MAKE ME PERFECT, she pleaded.
She could just otter yeas sure awesome before he left to wait for her. It had taken her a solid 5 minutes to realize what had happened. Another 5 to manage to look presentable and the last five to be convinced by Lizzy, which managed to be at your office and force you to tell her about what happened. She was ecstatic, the understatement of the year. She was what we would say out of this world with joy. God, she was giggling and murmuring about whatever future she had imagined. You didn’t even register half of it and for the other half, you had been rolling your eyes stating that it was just coffee. 
You always had makeup in your work bag and an extra outfit in your locker in case you had to present something or if you had arrived in scrubs at the hospital. Always be prepared you remembered your mother telling you. Your mom has been the most influential part of your life, from the clothes you wore to what you studied at school. Men come and go but a degree is here to stay, she said. Not only did she make you study hard in school but always be dressed the way you wanted the way that made you feel extra amazing which happened to be wearing skirts or dressed and heels for everything and when I mean everything I mean even on a lazy day going out for groceries. If they had made running shoes that were also heels you would be the first and probably the only on to wear. 
Dressing up and doing makeup and all that extra girly stuff, as your dad would say, did not take away from your achievement nor what you strived in life. You liked to look good getting those diplomas and all. 
“I think I will wear this.” It was a long pink dress jacket you had been saving in your work closet inside your office in case of emergencies. And this was the upmost emergency of all. Chris had shown up on one of those days that looking cute was the last thing on your mind. Sleep was and always has been your true love and on that day, you needed an extra hour. 
“It is perfect.” Lizzy smiled at the way you had semi-transformed yourself. “Like a medical legally blond without the blond part.” she giggled at your joke that was not as funny as she may have thought. 
“How does my makeup look, and everything. What about my hair? Maybe I should cancel and say I had an emergency to attend to.” 
“Stop. Breath. You look perfect.”Lizzy shook you into a reality that had been hard to accept. Beauty. Was I pretty? The question that is worth a thousand no a million dollars, honestly even a billion dollars. 
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I did not know how to end it so lol this is part 7 please enjoy and also constructive criticism is as always very much appreciated. 
Thank you 
xoxox
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steverogersfanfic · 29 days
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Chapter 4(a) | Amidst a press briefing, Sarah confronts her past and navigates delicate relationships, while Steve contends with betrayal and unresolved feelings. Tony's unexpected apology sets a new tone, but tensions rise as secrets unravel and confrontations unfold. With unspoken truths laid bare, the path forward remains uncertain for these fractured souls.
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freedomfireflies · 2 years
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Masterlist!
Series:
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~ Teach Me* | BestFriend!Harry
Harry needs a little practice in the art of Eating Pussy, and who better to ask for help than his best friend? You.
~ Mine* | MafiaBoss!Harry
Your mafia boss boyfriend, Harry, has been a little neglectful of his most prized possession. But he's found the perfect way to make it right.
~ One for the Money* | CEO!Harry
Working as an assistant for the CEO of a large corporation doesn't always pay the bills. So, you've turned to OnlyFans in an attempt to rake in a little extra cash. Unbeknownst to you...your boss, Harry Styles, is an avid subscriber.
~ 404* | Nerd!Harry
The one where you and Harry are software engineers on a project for Juno Inc. And you can’t fucking stand each other.
~ Knockout* | Boxer!Harry
The one where Harry is a handsome stranger who always comes to your diner covered in bruises.
~ Infinite You* | Open Relationship!Harry
The one where Harry is in an open relationship with your best friend, and maybe you have more in common than you realized. 
~ iFall for Harry* | Famous!Harry
You text an unknown number, hoping it to be the guy you met at the bar. The man that answers instead seems to be quite the upgrade.
~ Mr. & Mrs. Hey Soul Sister* | Famous!Harry
You and Harry wake up after a wild, drunken night to find out you’re more than strangers. You’re married.
~ Rumours* | Harry Styles x Reader
One-Shots inspired by Harry Styles and Fleetwood Mac songs. A story about a couple finding their way through a devastating break-up.
One-Shots:
~ Jack Shit* (Pt. 2* | Pt. 3*)
In which Jack Chambers is not a selfish, egotistical man-child with raging control issues that apparently wants to climb into Alice's womb like she's his mommy, but instead just a regular guy with a different set of control issues.
~ The Angel and the Fae | (angel!harry)
The one where Harry is an angel that falls in love with a garden fairy. And even the heavens can't keep you apart.
~ Stuck with You* | (enemies!harry)
You and Harry have been assigned to a case halfway across the country. And getting stuck for over twelve hours in a car with him is nothing short of excruciating. But having to share a bed with him? A fate worse than death. (aka: enemies to lovers + one bed trope!)
~ Bite Me* | (vampire!harry)
The one where your boyfriend, Harry, is a vampire.  And you wish you could feel what he felt.
~ Overdrive* | (street racer!harry)
The one where it’s 1969 and Harry likes to drive really, really fast.
~ Teenage Dirtbag* | (frat!harry)
The one where Harry's popular, cool, and everything you aren't. And maybe you want to keep him your dirty, little secret.
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Blurbs:
~ Blurb Masterlist
Collection of blurbs and drabbles for Harry Styles, Dylan O'Brien, and Chris Evans
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Credit for the amazing dividers to @firefly-graphics
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