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evansbby · 7 months

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𝐖𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐☆.｡.:*

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐈 - 𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: mean jock!Ari Levinson x naive!reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ari: Send daddy a pic, baby girl ;)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Careful, kitty kat.”

“Don’t call me that!”

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

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

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

“No!”

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

“ ‘m not a baby!”

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

Oh, he was jealous!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He smirks, “Says your daddy.”

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

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

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

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

“Don’t want your attention!”

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

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

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

“No, I didn’t–!”

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

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

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

“You’re a man-whore, Ari.”

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

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

“Just so you wouldn’t feel bad.”

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

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

“Stop callin’ me a baby!”

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

“Oh, so you’re a big girl now, huh?”

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

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

You stick your chin up, “Yes, I am.”

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

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

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

“I… uh… I dunno, Ari…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wanna kiss you, daddy.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Better than Sharon?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y-Yeah, I am!”

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

“Ah – yes!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck me harder, daddy–OW!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let them watch, baby.”

As if on cue, you hear someone whistle:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ari, I’m so close, I–”

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

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

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

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We need to clean you up.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lemme feel you,” he persists.

“Nuh uh, too sensitive.”

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

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

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

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

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

A pause. And then he sighs.

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

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

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

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

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

“Her name is Wanda.”

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

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

“No–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You know it’s more than that, baby–”

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

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

“Y-You’re leaving?”

A pause.

“Yes.”

Another tear trickles down your cheek.

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

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

“I’m really drunk too.” And high.

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

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

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

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

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

How many more times till he broke you completely?

***

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

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

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

“Excuse me, sweetheart. Are you okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re welcome. What’s your name?”

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

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

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

“Who’s that, sweetheart?”

“My best friend.”

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

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

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

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

“Nope, I go to St. Jude’s.”

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

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

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

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

You frown, “What do you mean?”

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

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

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

Steve’s grip tightens, “Ari?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck off.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Or what, huh, Levinson?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Go to hell, asshole–”

“BABY, THERE YOU ARE!”

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

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

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

Sharon blinks, “What car?”

“My car.”

“What does it look like?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh no,” you whisper softly in dismay.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He really is! Hate how he treats me, an’ how I keep giving him chances. He just hurts me again and again and again and–”

“Let’s get you home, baby,” the blonde interrupts, getting his phone out.

You wait a handful of seconds, swaying in your heels but liking how he’s got his hand firmly on your lower back to keep you steady. You look up at him expectantly, “Well, aren’t you gonna ask for my address?”

“What?”

“My address, silly! How else am I gonna get home?”

He blinks, before slowly handing you his phone. You miss the glint in his eye, however, and how his lip curls up subtly in… disappointment? “Oh yeah. How stupid of me to forget.”

You type your address in on his Uber app and click accept before beaming up at him, “Thank you so much, Steve. It really means a lot to me, I honestly don’t know how else I would’ve got home! But don’t worry, I’ll pay you back! We’ll split the cost in half, and–”

He presses his finger to your lips, effectively shushing you before he shoots you that charming lop-sided smile of his, making your insides melt. “You don’t need to pay me back, sweetheart. What kind of a guy would I be if I took money from a little baby like you?”

You blink, feeling an extreme sense of dejavu. He sounded exactly like… Ari. Ari never let you pay for anything ever. Well, Ari never really took you out anywhere in public, but the two of you would always order takeout whenever he came over to your dorm room. And he’d never skimp out either, ordering from fancy places like Nobu because he said you were his baby and he wanted the best for you. And whenever you tried to pay your share, he’d just snort and push your hand away, “What kind of a guy would I be if I took money from a helpless little baby like you?”

The reminder of Ari has a ton of different emotions washing over you all over again. Sadness, jealousy, anger…. You shake your poor drunken, muddled head, “Oh, I hate Ari so much, Steve! He’s heartless, and he–”

You’re still going on and on by the time the Uber arrives. And you’re so into your tirade, that you don’t even notice Steve’s arms going around you again, holding you tight against him as if he owns you. You don’t notice how his hands wander, how he rubs the bare skin of your arms, the small of your back, going lower and lower. His fingers playing with the short hem of your dress…

You do notice him slip cash into the driver’s hand… Probably the tip, you presume, too drunk to care.

Your mind wanders to Ari again during the ride home. You sit in the backseat with Steve, staring out the window gloomily as you think about how he broke your heart. Oh, how could you have been so stupid? So gullible? So innocent? You’d never let anyone take advantage of you like that again…

“You okay?” Steve asks, pressing his hand on your thigh.

You nod, “Yeah, I’m just thinkin’ about how much I hate Ari, and–”

“Sweetheart?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been listening to you complain about Ari for the past ten minutes straight. Don’t mention him again.”

He says it softly, calmly, and yet you shut your mouth and straighten up. Despite being drunk, you can detect the seriousness of his tone, and a hint of a threat too. Which you’re probably imagining because why would Steve threaten you? He was so sweet! Wasn’t he?

“I’m sorry, Steve,” you say softly, relaxing once he shoots you a smile.

The drive continues, and Steve’s hand remains on your bare thigh, squeezing every now and again. You don’t mind, his touch helping you feel grounded. You’re still so drunk and probably high too, from that damned stupid pill Ari had given you. No, no, no! You scrunch your eyes shut, willing yourself not to think about him.

“Baby, why don’t you come sit on my lap?” Steve says suddenly.

You whip your head in his direction, “Wh-What?”

“The Uber driver just told me the backseat is really dirty, and you’re in a dress, so I think you’d better sit on me.”

You glance at the driver, who looks straight ahead at the road, not batting an eye or saying a single word. You’re too drunk to argue, and so you just nod. Steve grabs you by the waist, easily lifting you up and placing you on his lap. You can’t help but welcome his warmth, shivering in your skimpy little dress as you wiggle around, trying to get comfortable. He notices, immediately shrugging off his varsity jacket and draping it over your shoulders.

“There. Nice and warm now?”

You smile up at him gratefully, “Yeah! Thanks so much, Steve!” You try not to ogle at his biceps.

“You look cute in my jacket,” Steve chucks you under the chin, “It’s huge on you.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re huge,” you blurt out, before your eyes widen.

“And you’re just tiny.” He quips, pulling you closer.

This was weird, right? You’d only just met him a mere twenty minutes ago, and now you were already in a car with him? In his lap, no less? But you could trust Steve, right? He was nice enough to give you a lift home when he didn’t even know you, and he didn’t want you to touch the dirty backseat either. And he’d given you his jacket so you’d stay warm. All of those looked like green flags to you. Unlike dumb stupid Ari, who was one red flag after another!

The car hits a snag on the road, causing you to bounce inadvertently in his lap. Steve groans as if he’s in pain, and you shoot him an apologetic look.

“Sorry, Stevie. That was an accident.”

He smirks, “Stevie?”

Heat spreads across your cheeks, unaware that you’ve said it out loud… But it’s a cute nickname nonetheless, and so you just shrug awkwardly, a sheepish smile on your face.

Steve’s hand rubs up and down your back soothingly, “It’s a long way till your house, baby. Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

You nod, “Well, I’m a freshman at St. Andrews’ College, and…and…” your voice drifts off as you notice how close you are to him, how you can see the freckles and beauty marks on his face, how deep his blue eyes are up close. So much like Ari’s…

Steve licks his lips, “How does a little freshman like you get mixed up with an asshole like Ari Levinson?”

Oh God, where do you even begin? Instead, you shake your head, “I-I thought I wasn’t allowed to mention Ari again?”

“You’re right,” Steve’s eyes twinkle, and he brushes a piece of your hair behind your ear, “You take instructions well, sweetheart, that makes you a good girl.”

You glow at the praise, before the car hits another snag on the road – this time a much bigger one. You bounce on Steve’s lap again, biting your lip when you feel the rough material of his jeans graze against you down there. And that’s when you come to a horrific realisation.

You’re not wearing any panties.

Your mind flashes back to earlier in the night. Ari fucking you in the middle of the dancefloor. Lifting your dress up. Your panties slipping down your legs. You stepping out of them, the lacy thong lying on the floor. That was the last you’d seen it…

You gulp, looking down at Steve’s lap slowly. No, no, no. Oh no… There it is, plain as day… A wet stain on his jeans, directly beneath you. You hear a low groan, and you know he’s seen it too.

“Oh my gosh, Steve, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I–”

“It’s okay,” he breathes, his voice throaty as he grips your hips to hold you in place, “Maybe you should move…”

“Yes, of course, sorry, I’ll just…” You hastily try to get off his lap, but he holds on tight, not allowing you to budge.

“No, baby girl. I mean move like this.” With fluid confidence, he guides your hips over thick, jean-clad thigh. You gasp breathily, hands shaking as they automatically grip his shoulders. Your bare cunt grazes against the rough denim, pleasurable sensations thrumming through your body. Oh God, what were you doing? You glance fearfully at the driver, but he seems to be in his own world, carefully ignoring the two of you from the driver’s seat.

“Stevie, we shouldn’t–”

“Shhh, move again,” he orders, his thumb circling your hip through the thin material of your dress.

“B-But we just met, this isn’t right, we–” But he shushes you again by moving your hips for you. And his hands are so big, gripping you so tight as he moves you over his muscular leg, your cunt catching against the jean material again and making your whole body convulse. You automatically grab at his broad shoulders, feeling overwhelmed and confused yet horny and needy all at once.

Ari wouldn’t like this, your inner voice warns.

“I thought you took instructions well, baby doll.” Steve whispers enticingly in your ear, hands rubbing soothingly up and down your back as if to cajole you into doing what he wanted. “C’mon, move again like how I told you to.”

Your body obeys as if you’ve been wired to, and maybe it’s because you like listening to people or maybe it’s because you’re just plain horny. Either because of Ari’s damned ecstasy pill or because Steve is so handsome and hot and his body is so big and muscular and warm. Oh, you don’t know! But you do roll your hips down against his lap, eyes widening at how good it feels as you both gasp in unison.

“That’s a good girl,” Steve praises, giving you a sweet smile. And you’re so close to him, and he’s so handsome, and his lashes are so long and thick, his jaw so defined, his freckles so pretty…

“You’re so pretty!” You blurt out.

Steve snorts, “And you’re still so fucking drunk.”

“Wha–?”

“Nothing. Move again.” But this time he picks you up, repositioning you so that you’re face to face with him and straddling his crotch, and oh my! He was so hard, so, so hard! You could feel his dick poking through the denim, rubbing against your wet folds! What was even happening right now?! “Baby, this feels good huh? Moving against me like this?”

“Uh… y-yeah, I guess it does.” You answer shyly.

“Good. Then I won’t have to repeat myself after this one last time. Move. Again.” Quick as a wink, his hand leaves your hip, thick fingers curling around your throat instead. He speaks softly yet with authority and a hint of menace, blue eyes almost magically unblinking as he stares you down, “Rub your little baby cunt all over my jeans. You might as well, since you’ve already made a mess.”

SMACK.

You squeak before your jaw drops open. Had he just spanked you? Once more, you look to the driver in the front, but he seems to be determinedly ignoring whatever was going on in the backseat.

Almost as if he’d been paid to do so…

You start to move your hips, letting Steve guide you as you grind down on his clothed crotch. And fuck, it feels heavenly. Your poor clit is throbbing, so needy and desperate as you seek your pleasure, holding on to Steve’s sturdy shoulders.

“Fuck yeah, you’re such a cute little slut aren’t you?” Steve hums into your neck, his teeth grazing against your bare skin, “can’t believe a sweet little angel with a snatch as tight and sexy as yours landed right in my lap. Well, I stole you right from under Levinson’s nose, but that’s not important right now, is it?” He slaps your ass again, his other hand still wrapped around your neck. Not squeezing, just holding it, “Move harder, baby. I’m already letting you use me for your pleasure, so you better do as I say.”

“O-Okay, Stevie,” you pant, not really hearing what he’s saying because the delicious friction is too much for you to handle.

He nips at the nape of your neck, that now familiar glint in his eye, “Call me daddy, sweetheart.”

You gape at him. But you only ever called Ari daddy!

His fingers squeeze around your neck, making it exponentially harder for you to breathe. “Did you hear what I said?” He asks smoothly.

“Y-Yeah,” you barely get the word out.

“Then say it. Say it or I’ll choke you the fuck out.”

“Daddy!” You squeak as he loosens his grip, gulping for air, “D-Daddy, please!”

He smirks, leaning back against the seat as he watches you ride his crotch. You can’t stop now, it feels too good, too sexy. An yet it also almost feels like you’re doing something wrong, like you’re betraying Ari… Except you’re not, you’re not, you’re not! Because Ari already had a girlfriend and it wasn’t you!

“You’re enjoying yourself, aren’t you? Dry humping your little baby pussy on a guy you’ve just met?” Steve grabs the back of your neck and yanks you forward, till his plump pink lips ghost against yours, “You this slutty for all the frat boys, sweetie?”

You shake your head desperately, “N-No, promise I’m not! I’ve only ever been with one guy, ah!” Your poor pussy feels like it’s been rubbed raw, and yet you can’t stop. Your hips are both moving off their own accord, and Steve’s still moving your body lazily on top of his, the fat outline of his dick protruding through his jeans, a wet spot of your juices on top of his crotch. “W-Well, actually, now I’ve been with two, but–oh fuck!”

You whimper pathetically as Steve suddenly bites down on your neck, sucking against the sensitive skin till it breaks. He peppers the broken skin with kisses, and it hurts yet it feels so good. You find your hand slipping up to grab at his short hair, and instinctively you’d been expecting Ari’s long tufts because that was all you were used to. But all you can think about is Steve right now, and how good his huge body feels underneath you as you grind against it.

“And does it feel good, baby? Humping up against a stranger like you’re in heat?” He licks the shell of your ear lewdly, shivers running down your spine before he suddenly thrusts upwards, catching you off-guard. Your pussy clenches, lust pumping through your veins at his words. “Innocent little baby, only ever been with two guys and yet you’re dry humping me like you’re being paid to do it.”

He laughs wickedly, and how could he still look so angelic? The moonlight shines on his face through the window of the car, and one second he’s looking down at you mockingly, before his face morphs into one of lust and want, and he lets out a soft gasp as he grinds up against you. “Fuck, you’re doing so good, baby. Making daddy feel so fuckin’ good, aren’t you?”

“Y-Yeah, daddy, oh fuck, you feel so big,” you whimper with abandon.

Steve snorts, “I’m bigger than you could handle, sweet girl. Your cute little baby pussy would probably start crying if I tried to put my dick inside you right now.”

His dirty talk makes you moan, and you can feel yourself growing more excited. That’s when he starts to fondle you, his hands everywhere on your body, squeezing and rubbing your tits through the thin material of your dress. “God, you’re just a baby, aren’t you?”

“N-No,” you pant, only to earn another smack to your ass.

“Don’t fucking disagree with me,” he hisses, blue eyes blazing before his smirk returns, “You’re a little fuckin’ baby who’s known me all of two seconds and yet you’re horny for my daddy dick, aren’t you? I said, aren’t you?”

“Yes, okay?! Yes!” You cry out, your folds so insanely sensitive from rubbing and rubbing against him, and yet you’re so close. But was it just you, or had Steve’s demeanour changed. Back at the party, he was charming, funny, helpful. And now? Oh, he was still charming, and so devastatingly handsome. But there was a darkness to his angelic quality… Either that or you were imagining things.

“What if I pushed you down and made you ride my fuckin’ shoe instead?” He asks, that devilish glint ever-present in his blue eyes which were dark with lust, “You’d do it, wouldn’t you? You’d do anything to cum.”

“Daddy, ‘m so close!” you whine like a baby, clutching his shirt hard in case he did push you to the floor. You didn’t want that at all, and you blink up at him with wide eyes, “D-Don’t push me down, daddy, please! Promise I’ll be good an’ I’ll listen to you! Wanna stay in your lap, please!”

He blinks down at you, chiselled face softening some as he cups your face, his other hand still guiding you as you ride his thigh, “Fuck, you’re cute, aren’t you?”

But then his expression darkens once more, and he reaches down, grabbing the flimsy fabric of your dress. There’s a loud tearing sound and you gasp, jaw dropping as he rips the lower part of your dress clean in half. He smiles, “Keep going, baby. Daddy just wanted to see you better. And look at your baby pussy, look how cute and puffy she is. Bet you’re sore down there, huh?”

“Y-Yeah, but don’t wanna stop! So close!”

He runs his tongue over his plump lips, “I bet you are.”

Reaching down, he makes you gasp out loud when his fingers spread your sopping folds, and fuck, his jeans feel so fucking good now, so much better, so much rougher, oh god, oh god, oh god… And that’s when he takes complete control, grabbing your hips harder and moving you on top of him like you’re a doll. Like you’re his personal fucktoy, and he’s using you for his pleasure as he moves you back and forth on his dick, dragging you up and down on his clothed crotch while he whispers dirtily in your ear.

But it’s when he squeezes your throat again, that you feel your pussy clench doubly hard.

“You like that, huh? Like when daddy gets rough?” Steve chuckles darkly, before squeezing harder. Till he’s well and truly choking you, and you can feel your airway close up, and you well and truly can’t breathe, and it’s agony but it’s so delicious, and he’s dragging you all over his crotch, rutting up against you as you scramble on top of him, and you can’t breathe and you’re about to black out and, and, and…

You come hard, squirting all over his crotch which was already wet from your juices. And your cream keeps on pouring out, your orgasm hitting you so hard. And that’s when he releases your throat, like he’s given you the ability to breathe as a reward for cumming, and he rubs your back soothingly as you sob and squeak in pleasure, his voice all sweet once more, all dripping with honey as he caressed you, “you’re such a good girl, such a good fucking girl, you did so good, baby.”

The rest of the drive home is silent, you feeling fucked out in Steve’s lap, Steve looking smug, and the Uber driver staring straight ahead as if the debauchery that just took place in the backseat of his car had never even happened. Your legs are shaking, and you can’t believe what’s just happened but you’re too exhausted to truly care. All you want is your bed. And sleep.

“Sweetheart, I think we’re here. Is this your building?”

“It is,” you say hoarsely, suddenly feeling too shy to even meet his gaze. And there’s a part of you that feels guilty now that it’s all over, a part of you that keeps thinking about Ari and what he would think about all this. Fuck. You shake your head to clear out all those thoughts until tomorrow, “Thanks for giving me a lift home, Stevie.”

His lop-sided smile returns, almost as if the whole ordeal in the Uber had never even happened, “No worries, baby.”

He helps you out of the car, and your legs feel like complete jelly, but you’re thankful that you can stand upright. You feel a weight on your shoulders, suddenly noticing his varsity jacket is still on you. Blue and white, with his initials “S.G.R.” “Oh, your jacket, Stevie. Here–”

“You keep it.” He cuts you off, his eyes glittering with the reflection of the moon and stars as his lip curls upwards, “Keep it somewhere in your dorm room, somewhere where everyone can see, alright?”

“Okay.” You really don’t have it in you to question his weird request.

He walks you all the way to your dorm room like a perfect gentleman, waits while you rummage through your purse for your keys. Chuckles as he finds them for you and unlocks your door. Pats your ass as he pushes you inside.

But not before pressing a kiss on your cheek and murmuring a quiet, “I’ll see you soon enough, baby.”

And then he’s gone, and you’re alone. You put your phone on charge before immediately flopping down on your bed. Your aching muscles hum in satisfaction, and you feel instant relief as you kick your heels off and close your eyes. Your heart is racing – how had you gone from being a virgin at the beginning of the year to hooking up with two guys in the same night?!

Speaking of one of the guys, your phone begins vibrating the moment it gains its battery back, and you see a flood of texts and missed calls from Ari. And you think back to how you’d feel a small sense of satisfaction and a burst of happiness every time he texted you or called you in the past.

Now, you don’t even have the energy to open his messages. It could wait till tomorrow.

You close your eyes to sleep. And you dreamt of Ari, of course you did. You dreamt of Ari a lot. But there was someone else alongside the brunet in your dreams tonight. A blonde with a charming smile and glittering eyes, the moonlight bathing him like a halo.

But you weren’t so sure if he was an angel.

AFHJSAFA OKAY! SO. What do we think??? AND YES omfg of course the second love interest was Steve! Y'all know i'm a whore for Steve and for me, he's the only one who can believably compete against THE Ari Levinson!!! I can't wait to delve into this story!!! I hope you guys enjoyed! Feedback would mean the world to me!

(also i'm paranoid that there are mistakes and continuity errors even tho i sorta did reread it kind of but aksdfnldaskgal idk!!! i'm sure it's all fine tho)

I actually prepared some questions for yall just in case:

Is it too soon to ask if you're team Ari or team Steve?!?! BC I WANNA KNOWWW.

Do Ari and Steve know each other?!?! DO YOU THINK THEY HAVE HISTORY?!?!

Does Ari have feelings for reader?! What is Steve's deal?!!? IDK YALL JUST PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT, ANY GENERAL THOUGHTS AND FEEDBACK SDFKLSAFN OKAY BYE

donate to my ko-fi!

#ari levinson #ari levinson x reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #curtis everett #curtis everett x reader #andy barber x reader

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biteofcherry · 9 months

Note

🧚🏻‍♀️✨Bippity boppity bow chicka wow oww! You’ve been visited by the Shameless Hoe Fairy, and now you must pick one CE fictional babe and share a hoe thought including the prompts: forest + “I can hear you breathing.” 😏 Go on and spread those shameless hoe vibes and your legs 😘❤️

The Sacred Hunt

Curtis Everett x reader

summary: Traditions were sacred. You were always vehement in seeing to that. But you never considered that at some point you may become a core part of one of your people's traditions.

warnings: sliiight dub-con (not really, but just to be sure); chase kink of sorts; arranged relationship (kinda); exp**cit se*ual content; loss of vir-g-i-n-ity;

Author's Note: This is a story of firsts - my first fic written on new laptop and my first time writing something for Curtis! @stargazingfangirl18 you kinda deflowered my Curtis virginity here with your prompt 🤣 I hope the wild mess of it will be a sufficient sacrifice to sate you.

Main Masterlist

Smoky scent of bonfires has dispersed into warmed aroma of pine and ferns the further you got into the forest. The wild beat of music and pounding of feet stomping to the rhythm, as people danced in celebration, completely died out. There was only the spooky hoot of owls hidden in the tree nooks.

And the echo of your heart, thundering rapidly in your chest.

You crossed the point of expected escape quite a while ago; stopping only for a second to look at the prepared bedding on the forest floor, before you bolted further.

You shouldn't have done that, you knew. But you couldn't make yourself to simply wait there for the champion to appear in his scary glory and seal your fate.

The Hunt was sacred.

While other seasonal celebrations were approached with variously eager engagement, all the villages in the area went beyond reason to organize this night. To show deepest kind of gratitude to the best hunter of past seasons.

The Hunt happened only once a decade, taking into consideration all of young and older hunters who provided for all the villages throughout the seasons. Elders chose the one most worthy of the title and bountiful benefits.

Each household provided a gift for the Hunter, from a barrel of mead, to a roll of silk.

The greatest prize, however, was a bride.

Each village appointed a female of age, ripe for the taking. It was considered an honor and, to be quite honest, was a position desired by many women.

Any of them could say no; they could decline the offer and wouldn't be forced to participate. They simply never wanted to say no.

You admitted you were one of those women, as well. To be wed to a husband who is strong, hard working and respected; to have your pantry and chests filled with gifts at the start of your married life.

Truly, you gasped in disbelief, then almost jumped in joy, when the elders picked you as one of the betrothed to choose from. Perhaps the honor of being chosen was enough, as it also put additional value to you as a wife for any other men who would be looking for a bride once The Hunter rejected you.

But then, as you stood in a semi circle with few other young women and The Hunter stepped into the light cast by the biggest bonfire, your elation skittered into fear.

The elders chose Curtis.

It shouldn't come as a surprise. He was the one who brought the biggest prey, who showed inhuman endurance during long, freezing winter hunts. He protected your villages from Wilford's raids and got rid of the tyrant permanently.

Yes, Curtis definitely deserved the title and the gratitude.

And a dutiful bride to share a life with him and ease his burdens.

But staring at him as he walked out of the shadows, you felt yourself cowering away. Curtis was big and intimidating. His naked chest bore scars, his corded muscles flexed as he clenched and unclenched his fists. Wolf pelt was thrown over his shoulders, the hollowed head of the animal resting atop Curtis' head, shiny animal teeth glinting right above Curtis' astonishingly blue eyes.

He was a quiet and brooding type, rarely smiling for anyone. You couldn't imagine sharing a warm, soft moment with him.

Though you certainly could imagine a rough and heated communication of bodies...

When Curtis stopped in front of you and offered you his hand, you felt like fleeing that very moment. Yet your trembling fingers slipped into his large hand; your world narrowing to the brutal shades dancing on Curtis' face, as everyone else disappeared from your peripheral vision.

A cup of mead was given to Curtis and he took a sip before lifting it to your lips. Without taking your eyes off of him, you swallowed the thick, sweet drink; felt it's heat fill your veins.

Then you were led to the edge of the clearing where a line of torches and flower garlands were forming an entrance into the woods.

For The Hunt to be complete, The Hunter had to chase his prey and claim victory.

It was mostly a formality nowadays: a joyful chase through the forest, until the couple reaches the prepared spot where they were supposed to consummate their bonding.

You followed the expected motions, running into the woods toward suggested direction. Lush greenery soothed you, for a moment you even felt a spark of excitement.

Then your feet stopped at the edge of the narrow clearing, where linens and pelts and adorning trinkets were splayed. You could imagine yourself there, naked and spread for your future husband. When your mind inserted the image of Curtis - a dark, rough shard in that fair, soft setting - you nearly squeaked.

"Will you lay down, or do you want me to help you?"

You jumped in place at his deep, low timbre resounding unexpectedly right behind you.

You didn't even sense him approach!

Not a snap of a twig, not a rustle of leaves. Not even your own instinct, which you considered to be quite good, warned you of the hunter's approach.

You turned around, nearly bumping your nose right into Curtis' naked chest. He smelled of sandalwood oil and earth.

You forced your eyes upward, meeting his gaze. He wasn't looking at you with anger; rather with curiosity. And a hungry gleam that caused your thighs to clench.

There wasn't a single logical though behind your action, but you simply bolted.

You ran through the woods blindly. Ferns licked the skin of your thighs, as your simple, short white shift lifted up. Moss made your feet slippery, the ground wasn't easing your moves either.

You slowed only for a split of a second, just to catch a breath and decide on direction. You forgot a single heartbeat was enough for a skilled hunter to strike. It was definitely enough for the best of hunters.

"I can hear you breathing."

Curtis' tone held a hint of amusement as he leaned against a tree trunk, opposite of the one you were braced against.

Before you made a single step to ran again, Curtis moved. He was so damn fast! Breath stuttered in your chest as he pinned you against the tree with his heavy mass.

"Was the chase for my benefit, doe?" He asked, tracing a single finger along your cheek.

"I-" you tried to regain steady breathing.

"I enjoyed it," though he didn't smile, somehow you sensed he was genuine, not mocking you. "Though to the mystic depths of the night forest, I'd rather enjoy sweet, moist caverns of my bride."

His other hand squeezed your thigh. Your pupils blew wide as Curtis slid it up, pushing it beneath your shift.

You clenched your legs, your hands landing on Curtis' bared chest. You didn't push him away; the heat seeping from him and the firm structure of his muscles made you pause.

The finger on your cheek disappeared. Curtis brushed the petals on the flower crown adorning your head.

"The other women," he spoke, "they looked excited and in bliss. But you-" he picked a single petal, then traced the delicate pad along your lips and down the column of your neck-

"You looked determined. So sure and ready for your future."

Curtis cocked his head, eyes holding yours as he dipped the petal into the valley of your breasts.

"What changed it?" He asked.

"I-" it was really hard to think of anything when Curtis' hands were touching you.

And he made the contrast between teasing tickle of a petal on your breasts and a massive hand pushing between your thighs maddening.

"I don't know," you sighed, spreading your legs a bit in defeat.

"I think I got a little scared." Your hands moved to Curtis' shoulders, your hold tightening.

"I can be scary." Curtis nodded. "But you have nothing to fear, doe. I will never hurt you."

He paused; his gaze dropping to the petal swaying on the swell of your breast as it rose and fell in quickened breath. Curtis bowed his head slightly, then blew the petal away.

"As long as you don't run from me," he lifted his head, stark blue irises sparking with mischief and lips curling into a wolfish grin.

Then his hand was tearing the top of your shift, exposing your breasts, while his other hand cupped your mound.

Calloused fingers squeezed your breast as Curtis' mouth claimed your lips in a hungry kiss. Oxygen seemed to stop flowing to your brain for a moment, your heart stopping in shock, when you felt the pressure of his power.

Was it how prey felt when a predator sank its teeth into their neck? A freezing shock that melted into surrender for the inevitable.

You tensed like a string, but your body quickly gave in. Lips parting obediently, you allowed Curtis' tongue to tease yours. Your hands pushed at the pelt on his shoulders, yanking the whole cover off of him, so your fingers were finally able to move to the back of his head.

A keen spilled from your throat into Curtis' mouth when a single, thick digit pushed into your core.

Curtis cooed softly, trailing wet kisses along your jaw. His teeth scraped your earlobe, drawing your attention to the sting of it as he rubbed a thumb against your clit.

"We have to sate the hunt, doe," Curtis rasped, pushing another finger in and thrusting them into you quicker.

You scraped at the back of his head, crying out at the intrusion. It was more, so much more, than your small fingers. He reached deeper, too; stretching you and touching spots that seemed to both hurt and be deliriously pleasant.

"A good hunt demands blood." His breathy growl made you shiver.

Curtis pulled his fingers out of you, suddenly; your wetness smeared on your skin when he gripped the back of your thigh.

The world twirled as he laid you down on the forest ground, quickly cutting off splashes of green of the tree crowns with the frame of his huge body hovering above you.

"Please!" You whined, hands clawing at Curtis' sides.

You weren't sure if you were pleading for mercy, or if your own need was so bloodthirsty.

He spread your legs wide, settling himself between them. Your shift was rolled up on your belly, your slick glistening on the thatch of curls around your folds.

Curtis' gaze was focused between your bodies and your own eyes shifted downwards too. You let out a strangled gasp at what you saw.

Curtis was palming his cock - big, like the rest of him. When he rested it over your mount, the tip of it reached almost your bellybutton.

He would be so deep...

Your fingernails pierced his skin as Curtis guided himself into your opening. He was barely in and it already stretched you impossibly.

Then he pushed more of his weight onto you, bracing himself on his forearms on both sides of your head. He looked down at you; drinking in the metamorphosis of grimaces on your beautiful face as he thrust into your virgin cunt.

Your cry echoed through the forest as the merciless slide split you in two. Every second felt like torment that dragged overwhelming pleasure along with the sting.

And he kept on driving in, even when you felt there's not an inch left inside you to fill.

"There you go, doe," Curtis moaned, rocking his hips and pushing his cock deeper and deeper. "That's a good girl. That's it."

When he finally stilled, buried so deep inside it felt nearly uncomfortable, your forehead was dewy with sweat and your thighs were shaking.

You felt so full. Wetter, too. Your arousal mixing with a dab of virginal blood.

"You're mine, doe," Curtis mouthed against your lips, nipping your bottom lip with his teeth.

"Yours," you mewled, feeling your walls fluttering.

Though Curtis didn't seem to mind you scratching his sides, as you tried to tame the tension and need bubbling inside of you, he yanked your hands off of him. He put your hands above your head, gripping your wrists with one of his hands.

And then he started moving.

The pace wasn't fast, but each thrust was rough and forceful, causing your body to jolt. Your untried pussy welcomed each stroke like the first one - resilient to the stretch and loving how Curtis made you take it anyway.

Curtis bent his head, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth. Was it the sucking, or the way his hips shifted and the head of his cock bumped into a special spot, but your knees drew up and your back arched.

You screamed into the night as your first orgasm shook every bone in your body.

Trickle of your juices, pinked with your blood, dripped into the ground beneath you.

A long while later (when your voice grew hoarse and your brain stopped registering anything beyond the feeling of Curtis owning every part of your body), Curtis' cum soiled the forest floor too.

He spilled deep inside, groaning against your lips as his dick twitched. He kept rocking erratically, pushing excess of his cum out of you.

You were a boneless mess when Curtis picked you up a few heartbeats later.

Your arms wrapped around his neck as he nestled you against his chest. His scent became headier, earth and musk overpowering the subtle sandalwood.

Curtis carried you back to the abandoned bedding. He laid you down on soft linens and you welcomed the clean, fresh fabrics.

"No rest yet, doe," Curtis rolled you onto your side and settled behind you.

He gripped beneath your knee and pulled your leg outward. He guided his cock between your folds, rubbing the head back and forth over your oversensitive clit.

He caught your hand when you tried patting him away in protest.

"Tradition of The Hunt is sacred," he said. "Evidence of the coupling is necessary for our betrothal to be officially binding."

In the back of your mind, you knew that. There were foggy memories of a hunt ten years earlier; a couple returning in the early morning from the depths of the woods and matrons of the elders going in to check upon the consummation evidence.

But you were sore and exhausted, your brain wasn't working in logical ways. You never imagined how draining sex would be.

And you happened to be chosen by the hunter known for limitless endurance.

"Besides," Curtis pushed into you, "I want you again."

"I will never stop wanting you, doe."

#stargazingfangirl18 #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett x female reader #curtis everett x you #curtis everett imagine #chris evans imagine #the sacred hunt #my writing

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onsunnyside · 2 years

Text

²⁴.⍭ 𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝?

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | Stepbrother!Curtis Everett x innocent!reader

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | STEPCEST, college au, virgin!reader, size difference, SMUT - minors DNI, daddy kink, somnophilia, oral (f), p*ssy spanking, dirty talk, elements of p*ssy worship, innocence/corruption kink, beard burn, overstimulation, degradation, dumbification, dacryphilia, squirting, the puffier the better.

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | Curtis has always protected you, and after a horror movie marathon, it’s no surprise you seek comfort in his bed.

𝗪/𝗖 | 6.14K

𝗔/𝗡 | as we reach the end of our smutty october, here is dirty train daddy Curtis. No gifs/photos belong to me, check the Pinterest board on my kinktober masterlist, all credits go to the original creators. All mistakes are my own. [concept asks | fic asks]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

˗ˏˋ𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Curtis hears you before he sees you. The hallway light switches on before your shadow appears at the bottom of his door. It opens silently, revealing you bundled in a sweater and a pair of fuzzy socks, dragging a blanket and your favourite stuffed animal.

“C-Curtis?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Can I stay with you?”

Curtis glances at the clock on his nightstand, it’s almost midnight, and those red glowing numbers tell him just how long he’s been glued to his computer and how long your parents have been at that Halloween party. “It’s too late, you should go to bed.”

“I can’t!” You squeaked, “You can keep playing your game and I’ll be super quiet, it’ll be like I’m not even there.” You beg, shivering as the downstairs darkness stares back at you.

Your mind goes wild, forming shapes in the black abyss. Monsters with sharp claws and red eyes, or abnormally long limbs and jagged teeth, or a murderer who broke into the house hours ago and has been watching you all night, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. You don’t know if there’s something there—or if you watched too many scary movies tonight.

Knowing your cowardly nature, it was probably the latter, but you couldn’t shake off that what if… what if there was something down there?

“Please, please, please!” A shiver crawls up your spine and the darkness wraps around you, almost bringing tears to your eyes, “Curtis, please!”

“Dude—what’s the wait up?”

Curtis fixes his headset, his wrist cramping from being in this position for so long. “My sister wants to stay in my room.”

A series of sounds echo through his headphones, varying from disappointment, interest, and sympathy. He could name what noise came from which friend, simply because he knows how each of them feels about you.

You weren’t a spoiled brat or a bitchy devil who turned his life upside down, you were far from that. You were sweet, too gentle and kind to survive by yourself. Clinging to his hands and clothes with your gentle touch and irresistible warmth, like sticky honey. Honey that rotted his teeth and only made him hungrier.

Your naivety has led you to his bedroom many times, from asking him about things you’ve heard on campus—“what is teabagging?” When those words left your innocent mouth, Curtis choked on his saliva. Thankfully he didn’t have to answer you because it was dinner time. Don’t ask, don’t ask, Curtis repeated in his head while everyone was sitting at the dining table, he just knows your parents would find some way to blame him for corrupting you.

If they only knew how much he was holding back from doing that.

You were easily scared, so he expected you to be frightened this dark and dreary, rainy Halloween night. It wasn’t the family’s typical celebration, you were grounded after failing a test and Curtis was stuck babysitting you as punishment for a mishap involving a hockey puck and a broken window.

At least his friends were in the same shit—he wasn’t playing hockey alone—that’s why they’re spending Halloween night playing videos and eating their weight in candy.

Before your parents left for a party, the decorations were taken down because of the upcoming storm, and your jack lanterns were brought inside. Only a handful of trick-or-treaters came by, so the candy bowl by the front door was still full. Or it was until you started nervously snacking halfway through your scary movie marathon. Your tongue is sore from all of the sour treats.

Curtis would be surprised that you didn’t sneak out, but he knows you’re too obedient and fearful to be that bold. Him, on the other hand, you had to cover for him whenever he left in the middle of the night for a party. There was surely an advantage to having a sweet stepsister, he had someone to back him up, or save him from difficult situations. You even let him hide his weed in your bedroom since your parents routinely checked his room after a neighbour caught him smoking in the park and practically dragged him home by his ear.

And the neighbourhood still doesn’t know who egged her house last week—Curtis had the greatest friends in the fucking world.

“—she can’t be that bad.”

“Huh?”

“Your sister, you should let her join our game.”

Steve groans. “Ugh, Buck, you just have a crush on her.”

“No, I don’t!”

“Is that why you sent her those love letters a few weeks ago?”

His gaze locks on Bucky’s character as if that was really him and he could feel Curtis’ glare through the screen. “That was you?”

Bucky makes an offended noise. “Thanks a lot, Steve!” He hisses, “Okay, maybe I do like her, but I wouldn’t try anything, she’s your sister.”

“And he’d probably kick your ass.”

“That too.”

“Nah, but he’s right. She’s probably dying of boredom being trapped in that house.”

Curtis gnaws on his lip, staring at the glowing monitor displaying their stats from the last game. It’s steadily gotten better and he isn’t sure if he wants you to ruin that streak. Plus, you didn’t even like his games, you much preferred using his PC (that he built himself) for the Sims. He thought it was cute that you made a virtual version of him and put the two of you in a big purple and blue house with a dog and a cat.

“We could pick an easier map so she isn’t completely lost.”

Curtis exhales, “Let me think about it.”

“Uhm… okay.” You lean on his doorway, blinking down at the hardwood floor. “Can I still come in though?”

“What?” He turns to you, suddenly remembering you standing there. “Oh, not you, honey. You can stay in here—for a bit.” He tags on, he didn’t want you to linger too much. Especially since he was still playing with his friends, at least you wouldn’t hear their endless profanities and arguing.

You beam and scurry towards the bed, almost tripping over yourself before plopping on the unmade sheets. The mattress jostles and an empty pop can tips over and falls to the ground, joining the mess of the day, from candy wrappers and dirty dishes from when he ordered pizza for dinner.

You giddily settle into his wrinkled sheets, snuggling under the duvet with your blanket and stuffed Care Bear, Grumpy bear. From here, you see his computer monitors and that war game glowing bright, you’ve watched him play a few times, and were always amazed by his quick reflexes and tactics.

“Tell your friends I say hi!” You wiggle your toes, Curtis’ bed was so comfy and warm. “But that’s it because I’ll be quiet now.”

“Honey—now don’t get jealous, Bucky, green isn’t your colour.”

“Shut up!”

“She says hi.” Curtis runs a hand over his buzzed head, tuning out his idiotic friends.

Steve whoops, “Tell her Bucky says he loves her.”

“I live across the street, don’t make me come over and punch your teeth in.”

“Now, now, we all know honey doesn’t like violence. You’ll never marry her with that attitude.”

“Alright, calm down, fellas.” Andy laughs, “Curtis, are we still playing?”

He hums, “let’s fuckin’ go.”

Curtis doesn’t know how long he’s been standing here, but he knows he’s a damn pervert. It’s been an hour since you came in, and Curtis had bid goodbye to his friends before he turned around and saw you sprawled across his bed, your sweater rolled up and exposing your cotton panties and an undeniable wet spot. Spot was an understatement. You were moaning softly and rubbing your thighs together, making the small spot into a full patch that clung to your folds.

He gulps, clenching and releasing his fists until the heat in his belly dissipates. He busies himself with gathering the dishes, food wrappers and empty cans that litter his bedroom, avoiding your wet, clothed cunt at all costs because if he gets another glance, he’ll fall victim to his desires.

After doing the dishes, he cleans up after you in the living room, picking up small candy wrappers and fixing the throw pillows and blankets to his mother’s liking. He checks all the doors and windows, peeking out the window at the pouring rain and strong winds. Thunder rumbles loudly as he creeps up the stairs slowly, preparing himself for spending the night next to you—and restraining himself from touching you.

He places a glass of water on the nightstand closest to you and picks up your stuffed Grumpy Bear. A yelp erupts from his chest when you grab his arm, latching on with a death grip.

His wide eyes land on you, shockingly awake and breathing heavily, “Honey, what—”

“T-The thunder. I—” You jump as another boom echoes through the sky, you try to tug him into bed, “Curtis! C’mon!”

He slides under the sheets and immediately, you curl up against him, clutching Grumpy to your chest. Your eyes are squeezed shut as he rubs up and down your back, soothing each tremor rocking through your body.

This isn’t the first time this happened, you hated storms with passion. From the dark looming clouds, harsh winds and gallons of rain, the cherry on top was the loud thunder and flickering lightning. Back in your hometown, there were terrifying storms that would tear roofs off houses, sweep away anything outside and knock down trees.

Curtis knew how to deal with you when you got like this, so he distracted you.

You’re okay, honey. Everything is fine. He repeats over and over again until you stop shaking, he plants a chaste kiss on the top of your head, “Why did you want to come in here?”

It’s quiet for a few moments before you speak, timidly meeting his eyes. “I had a horror movie marathon.” You shyly admit, “and just couldn’t be alone. I was too scared!”

He didn't have to ask since he heard your screams and squeals from here, even with his headphones on, but hearing it from your lips boosts his ego. You have always run to him when you were scared, confused or both. He was your saviour in more ways than one, and he’s your first choice for comfort and safety.

“What were you going to wear to the party tonight?”

You slump, remembering your plans with your new friends from college. “We were all gonna be the plastics from Mean Girls! But their Halloween costumes. I was gonna be a mouse.” You pout, “Don’t tell my dad, but I got a little nightie like what she wears in the movie. It’s really short and sheer… you could see almost everything underneath.”

His eyes fall to your puckered lips, “Oh.”

“Yeah, I know. I thought those dresses were only for home, not public, but Nat said all the girls dress that way for Halloween.”

He sometimes forgets you weren’t from the city. Sweet, naive you grew up in a small town before your father married his mother a year ago. He recalls teaching you how to transit everywhere, telling you which trains and buses went where. You were so confused with all the names and routes, you called him every day to ask for directions.

“Sounds like you’d get cold.”

“I could show you!” You go to stand but another rumble of thunder has you clambering back into bed, to your safe soft bundle with your stepbrother. “Maybe later actually.”

Curtis laughs, “You a w’ittle sca’wed?”

You shove him and he’s quick to return it, this time almost knocking you off of the bed. It isn’t long until it turns into a tickle fight, he pins you down and digs his fingers into your sides, straddling your kicking legs as you loudly cackle. You’re no match for his strength and are forced to lie there, laughing till tears are streaming down your face and your throat goes sore. One cough is all it takes for Curtis to release you and hand over the water.

You gulp heartedly, droplets escape the corners of your lips and trail down your chin to your neck.

He still feels the warmth of your body against his, so much smaller than him, and crying the prettiest tears and thrashing between helpless pleas for mercy—if he had it his way, you’d be acting the same way with far fewer clothes on.

Thunder booms and you jump, the water spilling down your chest and legs, soaking straight through your sweater and the sheets below.

“Ugh! Sorry, Curtis, your bed is a little wet now.”

He watches the realization hit your face.

You quickly close your legs, “I didn’t—oh god, I didn’t—I’d never pee in your bed.” Your hand falls between your thighs and your eyes widen, you don’t remember your dream but it must’ve been a dirty one, the kind you’ve only had a handful of times. “I-I have to go change!” You surge up, squeezing your legs together while pulling down the hem of your sweater.

Embarrassment floods you until it pours out your mouth in stuttering excuses, dutifully ignoring Curtis’ offer to walk you to your bedroom if you’re scared.

You don’t even grab your stuffie before shuffling out of his room, yanking the sweater over your ass to savour any bit of pride you have left.

Curtis was seconds away from grabbing you and taking care of your little wet problem. He’d dive headfirst into those sinful delusions and indulge in the pleasure you’re so cluelessly withholding. He rubs over his pants and the wet spot that was more than just water, imagining just how slick you were. He’d bet your arousal was sticking to your panties.

And now it’s all going to fucking waste.

When you come back, he’s comfortable under the sheets with a pillow strategically placed over his crotch, but of course, you don’t notice a thing.

You take shy little steps, your legs never spreading too far until you’re standing at the foot of his bed in a fresh new sweater.

“This is it.”

It is a sheer babydoll dress, thin and delicate with a bow at the collar and a frilly hemline. You hold it against your body, swaying cheekily. “Isn’t it cute? Now imagine me with mouse ears, nose and whiskers.”

Curtis gulps, daydreaming about your glowy skin draped in that airy fabric. “Very cute, honey. But I don’t think that’s appropriate at home either.”

You deflate, “No?”

“Not when our parents are home anyway…” he trails off, “but you can wear it when it’s just us. It’ll be our little secret.”

You nod eagerly, “I’m good at keeping secrets. I haven’t said a word about you sneaking out—or the weed, and I never will!”

That’s why he loved you. So positive and enthusiastic, a breath of fresh air in his normal, boring life. He’s so glad he convinced his mother to go on a second date with your father. And to think he just wanted her out of the house so he could throw a party, and now he has unlimited access to the sweetest, prettiest girl he’s ever seen.

Your gullibility was just a plus, and it’s thanks to that innocence that he’s able to convince you to wear your new nightie to bed.

“It’s Halloween, you should still wear it even if you aren’t going to a party. That way when you do wear it out, you’ll already have broken it in.”

Curtis finds out why you were walking so strangely after you fall asleep again. That demonic little voice wins and convinces him to dip in his twisted curiosity.

The lamp is on the dimmest setting, barely illuminating, but it’s sufficient in this pitch-black darkness. It’s enough, he repeats in his head, he doesn’t need brighter light or a fucking camera, although he wants to immortalize you from this angle.

Curtis is lying on his stomach between your legs. The blanket is slightly pushed to the side and your sweater is rolled up. His hands stroke up and down your inner thighs and his eyes are locked on your too-small panties. The cotton cups your core firmly, outlining your slit and deliciously falling victim to your slick just like the last pair.

You beguiled him, pushing him over the edge and into the dark forbidden depths—from the sheer lingerie to the tiny panties, to fucking grinding against his thigh when he was dead set on not corrupting you tonight.

Now, look what you did.

You were so needy and wet, he’d be a monster to abandon you in agony. Curtis refused to let this gleaming opportunity fade away, he’s saved you countless times, and another wouldn’t be so bad. He’ll put you out of your misery just like any big stepbrother should.

He carefully removes the rest of the sheets from your body. From the drift of cool air, you squirm then settle on your back again, legs splayed wide open. The moonlight fuses with the yellow lamplight, bathing you in an exquisite, irresistible flare. It calls to him like a beacon, pulling him by the throat to your most precious spot.

He mouths against the cotton, soddening the fabric with his saliva. At first, he’s discreet, cautiously licking, as if he isn’t starving for you. Once he’s certain you weren’t waking up, he seeks your clit, the delectable button that has been on his mind all night, and licks it through your panties.

The minimal light might be enough, but this wasn’t. He tugs the gusset to the side, nosing along your inner thigh as your smell drills into his head.

“So fuckin’ pretty.” The words are spoken in a whisper, his dark gaze glued on your folds that glimmer with your arousal. You’re so fucking sticky. He can’t resist breaking the string of your slick between your panties and your slit with his tongue, the minuscule taste instantly makes him addicted. “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.”

He rubs your clit slowly, just enough to make your breath deepen as you sleep soundly, beautifully unaware. Your nub swells under his touch and your arousal leaks down your cunt to your rosebud. Curtis refuses to let a drop go to waste.

He groans as your taste floods his mouth, your warmth satisfying every craving he’s ever had, fulfilling every ache while leaving more in its place. The demand for more and more fuels him on, just like your soft snores as wet sucking noises float into the air. With his eyes shut in bliss and he grabs your hips, tugging you closer.

He’s only fantasized about this. Never daring to commit to corruption. The guilt should be eating him alive right now, remorse should be wrapping around his neck and yanking him away from you—his sweet, innocent, sleeping stepsister. But it doesn’t, if anything, it excites him. The illicit nature and stark boundaries he’s leaping over.

Your soft whines edge him further, kissing your clit on his way down to your weepy hole. His tongue swirls around before breaching, piercing deep until his nose rubs against your button. He licks into your virgin hole, nuzzling your folds with his prickly beard.

This is far better than shamefully jerking his throbbing cock with your panties to his nose.

Your high hits suddenly, catching him off guard when your hips rise and your panties snap back into place, ridding him of the opportunity of watching you come. He can’t say he hates what he’s gifted anyway, your cream gushes out and soaks the cotton. He rushes forward, enveloping your clothed pussy in his mouth and sucking your orgasm through your panties, hearty groans rumbling in his chest.

He’s so rough and loud that you stir, but that only plunges him into a fervid hunger. Your cunt pulses under his mouth as he cleans you up, greedily taking any drop of your essence like he’ll never have you again. But he will, he knows he will.

Lewd noises draw you from dreamland into a confusing reality, following the trail of the strange fluttering heat between your thighs. “C-Curtis?”

He should pull away, he should apologize and beg for forgiveness but Curtis has played nice long enough.

“These are so thin, I could just—” he rubs his nose along your clothed folds, nudging your swollen clit. “So fuckin’ tight too.”

You squeak, attempting to shut your legs but he forces them open, mouthing against your core like he’s been wandering the desert for days and you’re a stream of water.

Shaky breaths tremble your frame, the sheets wrinkled in your fists as his tongue glides down your slit to your untouched hole, “What—what are you doing!”

“You were rubbing against me, honey.” He’s intoxicated on you yet hyperaware of every tiny movement of your face, reading your reactions effortlessly. “I’m just helping you out, that’s what big brothers do.”

“Is this okay?” You ask, “A-Are we, can we do this?”

“Yeah, baby. You think I’d lie to you?” He licks his hand and reaches under your sweater, tracing up your warm skin. He pinches your nipple, his saliva making you squirm from the sudden cold. He fondles your tit, switching between both until your rigidness fades away and you quietly moan.

His attention falls back on your pussy, inches from his face and begging for him. He’s quick to yank off your panties and fully expose your centre to him once more.

“Are you sure, Curtis?”

He huffs, “I’m sure. It wouldn’t be very kind of me to leave you here to suffer, now will it?” He traces down your folds, taking pride in the hitch in your breath, “And this feels good, right? So it can’t be bad.”

You sleepily process his words, “that feels—oh!” You watch as he lightly licks your clit, his tongue is hot and soft, just grazing over your bundle like it was a saccharine treat.

He hums, closing his lips around it just to make you feel his heat and wanting you to know how good he can make you feel. He pops off tenderly, “It’s sensitive, huh?” He circles the erect nub with his thumb, “Don’t worry, honey, I’ll be gentle. You trust me, right?”

You shakily exhale, struggling to hold his dark gaze with the unfamiliar tingles darting through your body. “S-So much, Curtis.”

“Don’t call me that.” He kisses your mound, his breath puffing against your warm skin as his eyes lock on your face. The moonlight shines over your features, bathing you in the glow. You look pure, untouched and vulnerable, and Curtis wouldn’t have it any other way. “Say daddy.”

You stiffen, fisting the sheets with wide eyes. You shake your head but your body has a mind of its own and jerks up, desperate for his touch.

“Say it, baby.”

“I can’t—”

He pulls back and swats your cunt, making you gasp sharply. He repeats it again and again, aiming for your most sensitive spot and getting rougher each time. Curtis leans up, spitting on your puffy clit, he should feel bad for torturing your button, but you weren’t obeying him. “Say it, or I’ll get a lot meaner.”

His saliva smears down your wetness and you squirm, before his hand lands on your belly, pressing you down to the mattress. Uneven breaths shake your frame, and the ceiling fan spins slowly, almost putting you in a trance. “Dad—daddy.”

“That wasn’t so hard.” He murmurs, peppering kisses along your trembling thighs. His lips ghost your folds before his tongue flattens and licks a firm strip up your slit. “That’s my girl.”

Now that you’re awake, he could have some real fun.

He makes out with your pussy, rubbing your petals raw with his facial hair and sending vibrations up your spine with his deep groans. “So wet for me. Grinding on my leg, moaning in my damn ear.” Curtis exhales, “You didn’t even let me sleep, you know that?”

“I’m sorry!”

“Pardon?”

You mewl as his flat tongue licks up your slit, fucking into your hole. “Da-Daddy! I’m sorry, daddy!”

You were learning so well. “And calling me daddy, I wonder what your real daddy would think of that.” He lets a heavy dollop of saliva drip from his bottom lip to your swollen clit, “He wouldn’t like that I’m eating his daughter’s virgin cunt, huh?”

You feebly attempt to pull him closer, but with his buzzed hair, the best you can do is push him down. Pitifully whimpering as he teases you, licking everywhere but that one spot. As a last resort, you just force him down and squeeze your thighs around his head.

Sparks dance on the inside of your eyelids when he takes that spot—that bundle between his lips with open-mouthed kisses, fueling the shocks coursing through your body. You liked this better than when he slapped it. He alternates between locking the throbbing nub in a suffocating kiss—suckle? And dipping down to noisily slurp at your juices.

This tsunami of impressions and senses brings you to a state of unfamiliar euphoria, a wave crashing within you and releasing an array of passions you’ve never felt before. You mutter nonsense, confused about your body’s response as Curtis works you through it, soothing your pulsating bundle with his skilled tongue and warm mouth.

Curtis is more robust than you and easily escapes your hold, hooking one arm around your thigh. “You liked that, honey?” A smirk plays on his slick lips, “This is your clit, it’s your special sensitive button,” he blows over it and chuckles mockingly when you whimper, “And I fuckin’ love it.”

His thumb pulls back the hood, exposing the delicate bud, erect and swollen, begging for his touch. He can’t resist swirling his tongue over it, your moans music to his ears.

He leans back with the bundle between his lips, pulling lightly before releasing it. A string of spit connects his lips to your core, his saliva coats you and combined with the cream leaking out of your fuckhole, you look like a feast. “So pretty and tasty. So fuckin’ messy.” He groans, “You’ve been keeping this from me, baby?”

You can only blink at him and squeak when he tongues over the exposed nerves. You feel every bump of his wet muscle and his hot breath on your skin, the sensations have your back arching high with unsteady moans.

“What a bad girl, you know how unfair that is? I give you so much, I keep you safe, I’m so nice to you, and you keep this pretty pussy from me.” He presses on your stomach, pinning you down.

“I’m sorry, daddy…” You barely manage and entwine your fingers with his, “didn’t mean t-to!”

“You didn’t?” He repeats, lazily mouthing at the crease between your thigh and warm cunt, his blue eyes locked on your face covered in a sheen of sweat, “but you still hurt me, baby, you made me so upset.”

“I’m sorry!” You yelp when his palm collides with your inner thigh in quick succession, getting awfully close to your centre. “I’m sorry, Curtis!” You apologize again, “Please don’t hit m-my button—”

“—You know what would make me feel better?”

You shake your head, dread sinking deep as he traces down your core, from your puffy clit to your rosebud. He circles the rim, smearing your leaky excitement.

“If you let me play with you.” He lightly spanks your cunt, wet noises flooding the room alongside your choked squeals, “are you gonna let your big brother play with your pussy to feel better?” He doesn’t relent, nor give you the chance to respond, he only slips his fingers down your slit to collect your stickiness and smear it back over your stimulated cunt, paying extra attention to his favourite part. “And you’re making a mess on my bed, dummy. You have a lot to make up for.”

Shuddering from wild nerves and unfamiliar sensations, you give in. He was right, he does so much for you without being asked, he’s your hero in every sense. “You can, uhm… play with me, daddy.”

A bright smile appears on his wet lips, and you’re too blinded by his radiance to notice the rotten roots of his happiness, the utter wrongness of it all. You’d follow recklessly on whatever path he makes, trailing after him like a lost puppy without any thought.

“That’s my good girl—my best girl, actually.” He rewards you with several sweet kisses, pushing up your sweater to give your tummy some love, he trails up higher until your sweater is above your breasts.

You rise towards his comforting touch, biting your bottom lip as he lightly tugs and twists your nipple. He massages your tit, squeezing it gently in his fist while swirling his tongue over your hard nipple. “Have you ever been kissed?”

Your heart thumps loudly, almost muting his low voice. “N-No.”

Curtis cocks his head, blue eyes gleaming fondly, “I’ll make it special for you, honey, but no one can know. I’ll take you out, treat you real nice, and make it like one of those cheesy movies you love so much.”

“Will you?”

“I’ll do anything for you.” He speaks with so much conviction you don’t care about keeping it a secret, a part of you knew how wrong this was, but you’d give up everything before giving up Curtis.

Your hands fall to the back of his neck as you go slack onto the pillows, his chain is cold against your palm, a stark contrast to his heated skin.

“I love you so much, baby.” He kisses down your body until he’s snug between your legs, and his thumb circles your clit, “and Daddy loves you too, pretty button.”

Your face heats up hotter than the sun as burning desire prickles at your skin, he’s gazing lovingly at your most private spot, and talking to it. That only makes you want him more.

“You like when I play with your button, baby?” Curtis asks, speeding up and adding pressure, “You’ve never felt this way before, huh?”

Your eyes water out of pure want and overwhelming pleasure. Your previous highs give you tunnel vision, putting your senses in overdrive. Everything feels unbearably stronger, even his breath on your throbbing centre. “N-No.”

“Never even touched yourself?”

“I’ve had dreams—and woke up sticky, but no.” Even though you can’t remember any of those dreams, you know they’re nothing like this. The heat, desire and pure debauchery are new territories for you, those dirty dreams were just messy blurs but now Curtis is the one to make you feel all those things.

He growls, growing harder at the fact of being the first to taste you and to touch you like this. “You want my mouth on your clit again?” He asks lowly. “You want daddy to suck and lick your pretty, puffy clit, honey?”

“Y-Yes, but please be gentle… it’s really tingly.”

His tongue swipes over his lips, “But I think she wants me to be rough.” He pulls back the hood, spitting down, “she wants me to be mean. That’s why she’s all tingly.”

“Re—” You’re cut off by a whine when he licks the exposed nerves, “Really?”

“Really.” He echos, “your body wants to be ruined, used and stretched around me. This ass and soaked cunt want to be pumped full of my cum, and this fuckin’ clit—she wants me to make you cry ‘cause it feels too good.” His mouth waters as you swell up before his eyes, the smallest stimulation makes your sore button fill with blood, “But that’s a good kind of cryin’ for a good kind of hurt.”

He laps over your petals before latching onto your clit, suckling harshly while his thumb circles your virgin hole. He digs deeper until his facial hair rubs into you, coarse and prickly against your delicate folds. You whimper, caught between grinding against his face and crawling away, bouncing between pain and pleasure.

He pulls back with a deep breath, he could suffocate himself with you and it’d be a joyous end. “Doesn’t it feel good when I’m mean? When I just bully your cunt like I hate it?” When you don’t respond, he glances up to see that lost glazed over your eyes and the stupidest look on your face.

Peaceful is what he’d call it, peacefully divine—but he doesn’t want you peaceful, he wants you ruined and crying, weeping his name like a prayer, he wants you to plead for salvation, a fucking break, just so he can say no.

“Don’t you like it when I do this?” A harsh slap lands on your clit, making your legs flail before he hooks them over his broad shoulders. Prying you open for his ruthless touch, he spits on his thumb then harshly rubs your bundle. “Or when I do this?” He pinches your button meanly and rolls it between his fingers. “Dumb little sister, you like when your big brother is a damn bully, huh?”

“Yes, I do!” You mewl, unable to lie still as the elastic in your belly tightens painfully, stretching you so thin you could shatter with a breeze. “I-I do, I love it so much, da–ddy!”

You’re so pretty when you cry.

“That’s right, you just gotta remember that daddy always knows best.” He dives forward and messily tongues at your creamy hole, eagerly swiping up any juices you have to offer. “Wanna know a secret?” He suckles, pressing deep between your folds and shaking his head, burning your sore skin with his beard. “The puffier it is, the better it tastes.”

He thrusts his tongue in your hole while rubbing your clit, the bottom half of his face is a mess. Your previous orgasms and his spit coating his beard and down his chin, your cream collecting around his swollen lips. You aren’t any better, hot tears streaming down your face and drool seeping out of the corner of your lips dumbly.

You can barely think—your mind is flooded with him, his smell, his soft bed under you, and his touch.

“Have you ever squirted before?” He asks, but all you can utter are incoherent words, he takes the benefit of the doubt and settles on a squeaky pathetic no. “Fuck, are you gonna make a stupid mess on daddy’s bed, dumb baby? Gonna get me all dirty, fuckin’ soak me with juices from this virgin cunt?”

You make confused noises, stuttering out his name between heaving breaths as the wave builds and builds, threatening to crash over and flood you from the inside out.

Curtis grins madly, eating up every one of your helpless mewls, bullying your sensitive nerves with his thumb as if you’re his damn controller. “It’s okay, honey, your body is gonna thank me for being so mean.”

You squeal so loudly that your voice cracks, breaking off into mindless babbles as you squirt, your orgasm shooting out into Curtis’ awaiting mouth. His torturous touch on your swollen bundle never yields and only gets more intense.

You’re caught between horrified and amazed as Curtis ferociously sucks your burning clit, prolonging your orgasm until you try to get away. He pulls you back and secures your quivering thighs around his head. He’s merciless and dives forward, roughly tonguing your pulsating bundle until much weaker, final spurts escape your body.

He doesn’t stop until you’re a quivering mess, covered in your arousal, sweat and his saliva. Even then, he spits down on your thoroughly ruined pussy with your juices that still filled his mouth. He meets your watery gaze, flashing you a wide smile. “You okay, honey?”

“That—Is that it?”

“It doesn’t have to be.” He raises to his knees, your juices shining in his beard and around his lips. “But I don’t want you to get overwhelmed, I know that was a lot.” And he didn’t even kiss you yet.

“But you… doesn’t that hurt?” You blink down at his hard bulge, your legs still spread wide with your wetness seeping into his bedsheets. “I don’t want you to hurt.”

“So fuckin’ sweet.” He exhales, cupping your cheek. “You can watch me, okay?” He tugs down his sweatpants and boxers with one swoop, and his cock smacks into his lower abs, flushed an angry red and leaking pre cum from the mushroom tip and down the prominent veins. “Just spread your legs and keep looking at me.”

You subconsciously lick your lips, spreading your legs wide as he crawls forward on his knees, squeezing his thick base.

“Good girl, why don’t you spread your pretty pussy for me too?” His jaw tightens under his beard, eyes bouncing between your dazed face and your ruined clit, “show daddy your puffy button so I can come on it.”

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: ehem... a very special eun @comfortcap made me this way with button play. I'm also very tempted to make a part two. But i already have a full series with stepbro!ari coming [fraternal instincts] BUT CURTISSS😖🫶

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! check my kinktober masterlist for the rest of my fics

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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