pairing; Mechanic!Andy Barber x Doctor!male reader
☬— nsfw. obsession/stalking. use of drugs. mentions of self-harm. praising. mental disorder (Sociopathy). murder. descriptions of violence. delusions. pet names (angel / sweetheart). mature // dark themes.
Summary; Andy Barber has an accident at his shop, which forces him to visit the hospital. There, he meets you. What begins as gratitude for your care slowly spirals into an unhealthy obsession. As his obsession deepens, Andy's behavior becomes increasingly erratic, all while becoming consumed by the fantasy of a relationship with the doctor who unknowingly holds his heart captive.
THE sound of metallic silver tools echoes throughout the—shaggy and dirty—garage that Andy Barber works in. It is a late night; the crickets outside are loud, and the wretched smell of grease and oil thickens the atmosphere. He loved that smell...
Andy lays under a car that was recently brought into the garage as he hums a rhythmic sound under his breath. The sound of the engine was comforting. He felt a sense of peace even.
His rough palm gripped the tool as he controlled it with ease. Tools were always something Andy could rely on. They came in handy in many ways—specifically in Andy's past. That's something he would like to bury deep inside.
Tools fixed things.
They tightened what was loose.
They silenced what was broken.
They ended the everlasting problems.
A rough exhale leaves Andy's pursed lips as he pushes himself further under the wrecked car he was currently working on. The cold metal gave him a sense of comfort—a safe place even. The wrench in his rough hand worked with him as he twisted screws left and right, allowing him to enter a trance. That trance came to an end when Andy felt a sharp pain shoot through his hand. The cold metal glided across his rough skin with ease and caused a pool of blood to form on his palm.
"Damn it." He mutters to himself as he pushes from under the car. He looks over at his grubby toolbox and grabs a mucky, stained washcloth to apply pressure to the wound. The cut was too deep. Too deep to shrug off. Andy knew that.
He mentally battled himself from the thought of having to go to that wretched place again. The hospital. hospitals made him shiver. His stomach turned due to the intense disinfectant smell, the chilling white walls, and the antiseptic fragrance. It had been years since his father's last hospital stay that he had set foot in one, and he had vowed never to return.
But that promise was cut short.
Reluctantly, Andy wrapped the wound with the dirty washcloth, grabbed his keys, and entered his—rugged red—pickup truck. "Fuck me," Andy spoke under his breath as he started the truck.
The engine roared, and smoke found its way to come out of its exhaust. He drove off, the only thought to haunt and fog his memory as he drove to the one place he promised never to return.
✰ -- --- --- -- ✰
THE waiting room smelled exactly how he remembered it—too tense, too quiet. The disgusting smell of disinfectant supplies filled the air, feeling toxic to Andy's heart. His stocky back sat against the—extremely uncomfortable—chair as his foot nervously tapped against the daunting tiled floor that haunted his memories.
He needed to get out.
Andy's tongue glides against his lips as he mentally debates with himself a second time. 'I can clean it myself. I don't need to be here. I fucking hate the hospital' were constant thoughts that lingered his brain.
As he's about to get up from the chair and exit the wretched environment, a nurse calls out, "Andy Barber."
"Fuck." He whispers roughly under his breath as he walks his way towards the nurse standing at the entence.
Hospitals were full of unworthy people who pretended to fix things.
Nurses especially.
As if it meant something, they grasped hands, offered condolences, and strolled around with soft voices and fake smiles. Acting as though compassion could heal. As though kind words could mend harm. They made too much of an effort to "be good." People still died, nevertheless.
But regardless, things broke.
They were worthless.
His jaw tightens as his dark blue eyes settles on another nurse who is laughing with their co-worker. Their scrubs too bright. Their tone too kind. They didn't understand how to fix things like Andy. They cleaned blood from wounds, and he knew how to cause them. They don't understand control. He forces his broad shoulders to relax and allows his face to become blank.
"Right this way, Mr. Barber." She smiles.
He hides the sheer look of disgust at the rehearsed smile and kind act. 'I wonder how many people she failed today.' Were his last thoughts before being instructed into a room.
✰ -- --- --- -- ✰
THE room becomes quiet when the nurse walks out.
Andy rolls his shoulder back against the patient bed, his jaw still tight from the vile interaction he had earlier with the "too perfect" nurse. His fingers tapped against the metal arm rest, trying to distract himself from the unappealing room.
His eyes scan the room slowly. Clean tan walls, perfect scenery paintings pinned against the wall, and silver instruments that laid flat on the tray for stitches—which is what he needed.
The handle clicks softly.
His eyes still painted towards the ground, he didn't bother looking up. He assumed it was another nurse to say once again a rehearsed act of kindness. But the air shifts. The footsteps are different. They're more heavier—measured. He looks up, his blue eyes connects to yours and everything inside of him stops.
Your white coat hangs loosely on your frame. A soft smile makes its way on your lips. "I hear you've had quite the accident, Mr. Barber," you said with a warm, but professional tone.
Andy feels something different.
It wasn't anger.
It wasn't hatred or anxiety.
It was alignment. Comfortability.
"I'm Doctor y/n. Let's take a look at your hand." You say calmly. Andy hesitated at first. Not from fear or disgust. It's because he questioned if he was ready... ready to let such an angel's delicate skin connect to his rough, corrupted one. He slowly extends his hand, and you gently wrap your fingers around his wrist—making his breath hitch.
Your thumb lightly caresses the would to access the depth of it, and you realize that he will need stitches. "You'll need stitches." You say calmly, not to want to scare your patient.
But Andy wasn't scared. He felt safe.
All he can feel is the pressure of the your soft grip on the wound. The weight of your palm, and the way your touch is controlled, but not careless.
Intentional.
Andy studies your face while you work with his wound. The slight furrow in your brow. The way your jaw tightens in thought.
'He’s beautiful when he’s focused.' Andy thinks to himself.
"You're handling this well." You say as you guide the needle and thread through his skin. Andy doesn't break eye contact with you. "I've had worse." You glance up and look into his eyes quickly before returning your focus back onto the wound.
"Oh? Have you now."
Your tone isn't teasing. It isn't that fake softness everyone tries to have that Andy absolutely despised. You didn't fake pity him like he was a child. You were observational. Andy swallows the lump growing in his throat before he talks. "It comes with the job.. being a mechanic." His rough voice deeper than before.
"Well, don't let it happen again." You say and nod slightly.
God, he loved that you were "worried" for him. He felt like a fuel was igniting this growing spark between the two of you. His heart thumped louder by the second, goosebumps grew all over his broad back.
You pay close attention. Together, your brows furrow. Jaw set. You had no idea how meticulously he examines every aspect of your face. You don't appear weak. You don't appear fragile.
You appear in control.
Andy has always respected control.
"Alright, done. You will heal just fine. The nurse will give you further instructions regarding check-up and the healing process." You slightly smiled at the man in front of you, and you removed your soft hands from his skin. Suddenly, all Andy felt was cold air. Your warmth was gone. 'No.. come back, please.' Andy's thoughts run as the absence of your touch feels like his heart is being stabbed.
"All set, Mr. Barber. You're free to go."
Free.
That word felt so wrong for him to hear. He didn't want you to leave. He wanted you to connect your skin to his once more. He wanted your e/c eyes to gaze upon him as you focused on his wound. He loved that he was something worth your focus.
You're writing something on the chart, having that focused look on. His eyes never left your presence. This was nothing but a routine appointment to you, but to Andy? This was everything. His heart stopped completely when his eyes fell on you. Your touch, your smile, your maturity. He loved everything about you.
"Take care of yourself, Andy." You dismiss him as you exit the room and close the door behind you. Distance and coldness were all Andy felt in his stoned heart. The room felt smaller—emptier.
You're gone.. for now.
He'll be back for you, and next time—you won't dismiss him so early. You're his angel, and he needed you like no other.
✰ -- --- --- -- ✰
ANDY looks at himself in the dingy bathroom mirror. A lost, broken man was all that he could see. Someone who lacked empathy. The fluorescent lights above flickered faintly, casting a pale glow against the white tiles that surrounded him.
His jaw tightens.
Slowly, his stitched hand emerges into view. Your work: tidy, exact, intentional. He studies the fine threading on his rough flesh as he slowly rotates his wrist. Even though you were only holding this hand a few hours ago, it seemed like an eternity.
'You'll heal just fine.' But he didn't want to heal. Evidently, healing meant he wouldn't be able to see you.
The thought settles heavily in his chest.
He presses the sewn-up wound against the cold edge of the sink. At first, he couldn't grasp the thought of what he was doing. He needed a reason to see your beautiful face again. You were like a drug that couldn't leave his system. He slowly tests the thread on his rough skin—pressing harder.
Slight pain lingers through his body as a small red pool of blood starts to seep out of the delicate work you did. 'I need to see you, angel.' Andy watches it carefully in the mirror, his expression not changing whatsoever.
He presses harder.
He bites his lip roughly as the pain he felt under the—carefully wrapped—bandage starts to leak more crimson blood. He unwraps it, exposing the stitched wound, and with careful movement, he flexes his hand. 'Pop.' The thread comes undone.
Blood starts to leak down his hand.
Now he has a reason to see you again. Some might say that what he's doing is crazy, but this was all strategic to him; it was love. He grabs a paper towel and applies pressure on the wound. Not enough to stop it, but enough to control it. His dark blue eyes meet his reflection again. He was calm... certain.
You'll have to touch him again.
Next time, Andy won't allow you to dismiss him so easily. He craved you, needed to feel your soft skin connect with his corrupted, rough skin. He exits the bathroom, already planning his next visit.
✰ -- --- --- -- ✰
ANDY returned the next day.
And the day after that.
At first, the injuries were quite small. Reopened stitches, split knuckles, a burn from an engine that “slipped.” Each one was believable. "Accidental." Each one just enough to earn your touch again. To hear your calm, concerned voice again.
You began to notice the unusual behavior.
Your brows would furrow deeper each visit. Worry began to linger in your mind every time Andy visited your office. Your questions lingered longer. “You need to be more careful.” “This isn’t normal.” “Are you distracted at work?" The more you questioned him, the more it meant you were paying attention.
He would nod, give you half answers, and blame long hours.
But inside, He was thriving.
Soon, the wounds grew worse.
A deeper cut along his forearm from a razor blade. A gash across his thigh that required more than simple stitching. You prescribed him painkillers to ease the pain. But, he didn’t take them to heal. No, Andy took them to endure. To continue his obsession with you.
Since each injury demanded a new appointment. One more private space. Another opportunity for him to be with you. Your eyes, your smile, and your inherent scent. He loved every aspect of you, and this was just the beginning of it. Routine became ritual somewhere along the line. He memorized your schedule.
The days you worked late.
The nights you left exhausted.
The way you rubbed your temples before getting into your car.
You didn’t know it.
But he did.
✰ -- --- --- -- ✰
ANDY has already been spiraling. He’s sleep-deprived, mixing painkillers and alcohol. His obsession is getting stronger by the day. He’s convinced that you're just “confused” about your feelings for him.
One evening, he parks outside the hospital near the end of your shift. He tells himself he’s just making sure you're safe. Making sure that his angel gets home without any trouble. He's doing it out of love, not control.
Then he sees you.
You're currently standing outside in the cloudless, serene weather with a male coworker—maybe another doctor or a nurse. This gets Andy's attention immediately, 'What the fuck?' Thoughts running through his sick and twisted mind as you guys were laughing. The coworker lightly touches your arm, and you don't pull away like you should have. How dare you let another man touch you? You were Andy's everything. No one is able to lay a pinky on you.
That small touch feels catastrophic to Andy.
As he stares from inside his truck, the dim glow of the parking lot lights reflecting against the windshield, his hands tighten around the steering wheel. Everything seems a little warped because of the amount of alcohol and drugs in his system, as if he were watching something unfold underwater. Slow, warped. Incomprehensible.
But the anger is real.
You’re standing beneath the soft yellow light near the entrance of the hospital, your white coat catching the breeze. You look relaxed. Comfortable. Laughing at something the man beside you said.
Laughing.
The coworker stands too close. His posture is too familiar. His hand brushes your arm again—something he'll regret. Fingers lingering there as if he belongs.
As if he has permission.
Andy’s jaw tightens until it aches. His breathing heavily from anger.
You don’t pull away.
You don’t look disgusted.
You don’t look confused.
You look warm... comfortable.
His mind scrambles to correct it.
You don’t understand what you’re doing. You’re tired. Overworked. Vulnerable. You don’t see what that man is trying to take from you.
He does.
He always sees.
The coworker walks you to your car like it’s natural, like it’s expected. He opens the door for you, leaning down to say something else that makes you smile again. Andy’s breathing becomes heavier, fogging the inside of his window.
When you finally slide into your car and pull away, your headlights disappear down the quiet road, leaving the coworker alone in the lot.
Alone with Andy.
The coworker checks his phone casually, unaware, careless. Andy opens his truck door slowly, the hinges creaking softly in the still night air. His heavy boots hit the rough pavement with steady weight as he makes his way across the lot. Each step is deliberate—Measured.
The coworker looks up when Andy stops in front of him.
“Can I help you?” he asks, already irritated.
Andy stares at the sorry-looking man for a moment before speaking. His jaw still tight from the anger that travels through his blood.
“You shouldn’t touch him,” Andy says casually.
The coworker frowns slightly. “What?”
“You were touching him,” Andy repeats, his voice even. Controlled. “You don’t get to do that.” A short laugh escapes the man, disbelieving. “Okay… I think you’ve got the wrong idea here.” Andy steps his broad body closer. Close enough to see the annoyance harden into mockery on the man’s face.
“He’s not yours to touch,” Andy says quietly.
The coworker shakes his head. “Man, you’re acting crazy.”
Crazy.
The word lands heavier than it should.
The worker dismisses him completely, turning as though to brush past him. The movement is reckless. Confident. As though Andy is merely an inconvenience. Andy doesn't have time to completely digest it before his hand lunges forward. He pushes the man backward with more force than he meant when his palm slams hard against his chest.
The coworker stumbles, heel catching against the uneven concrete. His arms flail for balance, but it’s too late. His body hits the pavement hard, and his head strikes the ground with a dull, unforgiving sound.
The parking lot goes silent.
Andy freezes for a second, staring down.
The coworker doesn’t move.
A dark crimson pool of blood begins to spread beneath his head, slow and steady against the pale concrete. His eyes are open but unfocused, staring past the night sky... dead.
Andy’s breathing steadies as he takes a step closer.
He hadn’t planned it like this.
But it needed to happen.
The man had crossed a line. Touched something that didn’t belong to him. Andy stands over the body for a long moment, studying the stillness the same way he studies broken machinery in his shop. Something snapped. Something ended, and there wasn't an ounce of guilt in his chest.
Only relief.
You will no longer be misled.
You won’t be confused by men who don’t understand you like he does. He wipes his hand slowly against his jeans before turning toward his truck. The night feels quieter now. Safer.
This was only the beginning of his love for you.
He pauses before opening the door, his dark blue eyes glancing back once more at the deceased body lying beneath the lights.
“You’re safe now, angel.”
A/N: Hey guys.. Decided to write this because I felt a spark come back with writing. I hope you guys enjoy this long story as much as I enjoyed writing it. SIDE NOTE: I did't proof read, so please excuse all the typos and errors. Reblogs and comments are much appreciated
✧.*ೃ⁀➷ pete's place | the intro | opening night | the playlist ༊*·˚
✧.* : ̗̀➛ dark!ari levinson x female!reader (non-descriptive)
✧.* : ̗̀➛ word count: 375.
✧.* : ̗̀➛ warnings: breeding, dirty talk, usual filthy ari
✧.* : ̗̀➛ requested by: anonymous
✧.* : ̗̀➛ notes: wakey wakey besties, new drabble just dropped!!!!! hiiiii!!!! how ya been!! i've missed u all sm so i return with a little ari drabble <33 all of this was written on my phone so pls mind the mistakes and lemme know what u think!!!<3
*this is an 18+ space. minors are not welcome here.
*this is a dark au. there are no happy endings here.
“You fuckin’ feel me, pup? Hmm? Feel me deep in this little cunt?” Ari rambled heatedly into your ear as his hips battered against the meat of your ass. Your frame bent underneath him, your breath moistened the sheet below you; pitiful moans and pleading whines were the only thing to fall past your spit slicked lips as your head swirled with everything Ari.
“S’matter? Can’t speak? Can’t think?” Ari teased before lifting a little to snake an arm around your neck, bicep hugging your throat while he continued to fervently fuck into you. You couldn’t help but meet his thrusts, arching your back to drive your hips together harder, deeper. “That’s it, ‘atta girl, fuck yourself back on my cock. Keep it goin’, baby. Gonna fill you to the brim, breed this tight pussy.”
A cock-drunk smile cracked across your lips hearing Ari’s lustful rants. One thing about Ari is that it was guaranteed that he’d lose all ability to keep his filthy thoughts to himself once inside you.
“Whining like a bitch in heat. You want it? You want me to breed you, hmm? Knock you up with a little pup, mmm? Send you to Curtis’ next for a fill, then your golden boy— your Stevie,” Ari spat his name like it was venom on his tongue as he drove his cock deeper into your aching cunt. “Then your Jakey… Although he prefers this little hole, doesn’t he?”
Ari’s thumb pressed against the tight ring, the pad of his thumb slick with his spit, or the leaking wetness spilling from around his cock.
“Finish you off with Pete and that awful, mean Lloyd, hmm? Make sure you have a whole litter. Nothin’ but a hole for us to fill— Fuck,” Ari cut off, strangled and twisted as you felt his hips stutter, your head dropping to the pillow below as he filled you and used his softening cock to fuck his cum deep inside you.
Summary: Your father had outdone his own selfishness when he had handed the train off to Curtis with no regard for you. But was it so bad, really?
Pairing: Dark!Curtis Everett | Cruel Brat!You.
Disclaimer: I (unfortunately) do not own Curtis Everett. This story contains dark and mature content so browse at your own discretion, please. Minors do not interact.
Warning(s): Non-con/Dub-con, dark-ish spoilt Princess reader becomes Curtis' bitch, gun play, spanking (with a belt), humiliation, degradation, pet names, fear kink, finger sucking, age gap (reader is 20's, Curtis is 40's), leash, objectification, sloppy blowjob turns rough, untrimmed lumberjack Curtis, hair pulling, boob play, mentions of complete submission, questionable shit that I am unapologetic for.
Note: This scenario has been living rent free in my head ever since I watched the movie. Fair warning, it is pretty dark. But then again, so is Curtis. Feedback is much appreciated 🩷
MASTERLIST
"I can smell you, dolly~" your heart hammered inside it's cage as you clasped your shaky lips to a halt, suppressing your laboured breathing as you peeked with one eye to see where the giant man was from your position behind one of the huge shelves in your father's cabin.
Curtis Everett took his sweet time investigating the space, searching for you calmly as he called out to you. His sweet coos caused the hair at the back of your nape to rise. He was covered in dust and blood, a gun carelessly hanging by his fingers. Your thighs quivered as you tried to breathe as quietly as you could, feeling a tinge between your legs.
The fear was messing with your body and the terror of what might happen to you once he did find you -which let's be honest, was inevitable since there was no where to run- caused all kinds of reactions within your body.
"Are you over… here?" A gasp threatened to slip past your trembling fingertips when he very effortlessly toppled over a chair dangerously close to you, chuckling to himself and tutting when your position continued to be a mystery. "You know I'll find you now or later, Princess…" Curtis was now passing right by you. "You're only making it worse for yourself by hiding, you know~" your shoulders relaxed a little when he lingered in front of you for a moment but when passed by. "If you come out now, I won't have to-" his terrifyingly convincing words had your body acting before it could stop itself.
The sound caused by you crawling out of your hiding space had the tall man spinning on his heels. A smile settled on his lips when he found you peeking up at him from your position on the ground.
"Already crawling for me?" His condescending words had you quickly scrambling to your feet as you whimpered in response to the proximity his quick walk towards you had caused between your bodies. "Aren't you just the most precious little doll?"
"Y- You said…" The desperation of your voice made you feel disgusted with yourself. You hated your father. A bile rose in your throat when you lowered your head in response to his sharp gaze fucking your body in the most humiliating way. He didn't even try to hide it. "You said you w- wouldn't hurt me if I didn't h- hide" these people were nothing. You had never cared what your father or the people of your section thought. To you, the lower sections were just filth to stomp on. They were nothing more than unfortunate degenerates that lived to serve you.
"I said I wouldn't have to do worse" the muscles in your thighs clenched when he caressed your cheek with the tip of the gun. And now because of your bastard father, you had no choice but to rely on the mercy of these lowlifes. "Hmm… so pampered and soft" Curtis sighed when he cupped your face with his other hand now, his coarse thumb tracing the shape of your lips before he pushed the digit inside.
You gagged in response to his dirty finger intruding you so intimately. He let out a heavy chuckle, taking it as an invitation to push it further in until he was knuckle deep, sighing to himself as he explored your warm and wet cavern. Your eyes filled with tears as the humiliation washed over you and overwhelmed your already overstimulated senses.
"Aw, you don't like this, Princess?" His taunt triggered a flashback where you had said the same exact thing while torturing someone from the tail section about a minor inconvenience while you made the others watch. "Too bad you don't have a choice, huh?" Your fists clenched as you suppressed the urge smack the smirk right off his disgusting face.
The thick hot tears finally trickled down your cheeks. His thumb made you gag again as it dipped down to your throat, the salty and metallic taste coating it making your mouth sting. Curtis refused to let you hide your face away so you could hide your tears and your arms were too lifeless for you to simply wipe them away.
"Hm, I wonder…" The gun now trailed down from your jaw to your neck, circling around the locket you always wore as your mother had left it to you before slowly trickling its way atop the valley of your breasts. "If Goddesses look the same as us lowlifes under their fancy little attires…" Your heart threatened to burst right out of your chest. More flashbacks followed as you winced now, having no choice but to unintentionally suck his thumb when you tried to breath. Your eyes shut themselves in embarrassment after a few more tears spilled.
You forced the tail section to hail and bow down to you every now and then merely for entertainment. You made them tell you you were their Goddess and the only one that should be worshipped. Those who tried to resist faced horrible consequences at the hands of your personal guards and servants. Your 'royalty' was the only thing your otherwise unavailable father had been good for. It was the only thing he had given you in your whole life. So you took to both using and misusing it in every way you could.
"Or are they really are different from the rest of us degenerates- tsk" he clicked his tongue before patting your cheek. "Come now, doll. Let me see those Godly eyes" a shiver trembled itself out of your body.
You had no choice.
Just how they hadn't.
Curtis felt a pang of excitement trickle down his spine when your now reddening eyes opened back up and you tried to look anywhere but at him.
"Hm… they seem pretty ordinary to me…" The comment was for your eyes as the gun intruded your neckline more and more with the passing second. "What about…" The man hooked the weapon under one of your breasts and pushed it up and out of the fabric covering them as he tilted his head, the humiliating concentration on his face making your cheeks burn as you whimpered against his thumb again, gagging when it started to massage your tongue.
The tingles in the spot between your legs in response to the whole experience increased all the while.
You dared not ponder over it, afraid of what horror laid in the reason behind it.
"Hm, you know what?" Curtis suddenly deprived you of all touch. Wait, are you wondering why you know his name? Have you forgotten already? You had asked him what it was before you made him kneel on all fours on the ground before using his back as a chair while you had the workers take the newborns under your father's orders. Why? You simply didn't care why. "I want it all off." He used the gun to gesture towards your clothes. "Because so far I haven't seen anything that makes you any more special than the people you loved to shit on" more tears spilled from your eyes.
Your usually loud mouth seemed to have forgotten all words today.
"Come on, Princess. I don't have all day…" His words were followed by his fingers undoing and freeing his belt before he held in a manner that looked threatening enough for you to let out a sob as you slowly shook your head before muttering out a plea. Curtis coldly chuckled. "Hm, adorable. Now, come on." You flinched when he tapped the side of your thigh with the belt he had doubled over in his hand.
"P- Please…"
"You wanna please me?" The only things he could remember was the hopelessness and humiliation she has wreaked upon the tail section all those years ever since she was a child. "Aw, doll. That is sweet of you." Another sob left her. The man was unfazed as he continued to caress the side of her leg with the belt, dark eyes running up and down her body.
"N- No, like… please… please…" He sighed as his eyes hardened.
"You really want to make this worse than it already is, huh?" The seriousness of his tone caused a tight little hot ball to form between her hips. "Little brats like you just can't help themselves, can they? No, they love to get in trouble. That's why they go out of their way to create it. So someone can come along and show them their real place, huh?" The knot of heat rolled further down your abdomen.
What was happening to you?
You went to speak but were cut off. "If these pretty little clothes don't come off by the count of three, I will take them off but in front of the entire tail section waiting to claw you to pretty little bits and pieces right outside this room…" Your breath hitched in your throat when the tip of the gun collected the sweat beads formed on one of your temples. "Would you like that, huh, doll?" Before he could even start the countdown, you hiccuped before a few sobs followed the quivering breaths and your numbing fingers reached for the zip and harnesses of your dress.
Without allowing yourself to ponder over it, you quickly rid yourself of the fancy fabrics, knowing that it was inevitable and the other way would be much more unpleasant than this. You had degraded these people in the worst ways possible for many years, if you still got to have some form of mercy, you were going to take it.
"The rest too, giddy up~" your wet cheeks burnt hotter as you averted your eyes to the floor, keeping them trained on the spot between his feet as you blinked the tears away and complied to his orders, depriving yourself of all dignity with your own hands. "Hmm…" Curtis seemed unbothered by your nudity. Like nothing was out of the ordinary and it was just a normal day.
As if this was the natural way of things.
"I don't anything special here" the pressure between your hips increased when he started to poke and prod at your hardened nipples with the tip of the gun before he circled you like a hungered animal does a piece of meat, continuing to press and caress random parts of your body. "Let's see…" Curtis sighed now. "Spread these pretty Princess legs, now. Maybe there's something special there that makes you feel obligated to act that high and mighty" you felt the belt penetrate the space between your legs.
You bit your lip as more and more flashbacks resurfaced, haunting and mocking. Your chest heaved for air the more you sobbed, bending forwards as your hands reached for your ass cheeks and you spread your legs before parting them for him to look at.
You were well familiar with the desperation in the eyes of the tail section lowlifes to know that if you didn't obey and maybe pleased him however he wanted, you would suffer the same fate as everyone from your side of the train.
And nothing was worse than dying.
… Right?
"Hmmm, nothing special here either" the male's tone was scalding as he spread your nether petals with the tip of the gun -that caused a new kind of rush and panic within your body every time it made contact with it- before he pulled the metal weapon away. "So you really are nothing special, after all…" Your eyes continued to watch his feet and how they appeared before disappearing for a few moments each time he completed a round around your naked and shaking body.
"If anything," a loud shriek ripped itself out of your throat when he suddenly landed the belt on your ass, the swat catching your hands holding them apart in the process. You quickly retreated them, causing him to scoff at your reaction as you held them to your chest, sobbing and blowing on them as you rubbed them to try and soothe the burn. Another lash was given to your sensitive and fragile skin that wasn't used to being handled roughly. But now a thick angry red line appeared across your lap. "You're worse." The next blow landed on your ass again, but this time your knees buckled up and you fell on your hands and knees.
"Because even though you could be ripped to shreds at any given moment upon my command, you're leaking like a desperate little breeding bitch all because I forced you to strip for me" you felt him place his dusty boot on your back before he pressed it down against you.
Fuck.
That was going to leave an imprint.
Your whipped thighs trembled and body jerked forwards when he landed his belt against your ass again. The only things you could register and process was your own crying, the humiliation his words were causing and the hot pain his merciless belt was inflicting upon your ass cheeks.
He just kept going, loving the welts and bruises that were forming on your formerly spotless skin.
"P- Please!" You forced yourself to plea out loud when he just wouldn't stop. "Please! I- It hurts! I am s- sorry! Please!" He just chuckled in response, pushing you against the ground harder and harder with each hit.
"Maybe your father knew this is exactly what you needed, huh? Someone to come along and beat some sense into that smooth brain of yours." Out of all the things he had said to you, this one stung the most. Perhaps more than the physical pain he was inflicting upon your ass. "He knew that you couldn't carry his legacy. Your little brain is too small for tasks like that, isn't it? Brats like you are only meant to be broken into submission and then made to serve" the hits finally halted. He removed his foot. Your seething ass cheeks were parted again but with his fingers this time.
Your body shook from how violent and loud your sobs had gotten. Curtis chuckled at something before you felt him get closer to your head. A thick and rough band snaked around your neck before you felt it getting tighter until it was wrapped and locked around your throat. You winced when you felt a tug at it. His belt.
"Look, doll." His thick beard scratched against your ear as he whispered right into it. "Your mess on the floor is confirmation" the bile in your throat felt tighter against the makeshift… leash. "Whether you want to admit it or not… you are loving this" you wanted to vomit. The taste of his thumb was still very strong on your tongue, the pungent scent of his body further aggravating your already distressed senses. "I knew it."
Curtis stood up to his full height and tugged at the belt, causing your neck to humiliatingly jerk in the direction of his pull. "Come on." He started to march you towards the chair your father always sat on. Your weak and sensitive knees burnt and screamed at you to stop. But the moment you'd falter, the leather wrapped around your throat would forcefully pull you forward, making you almost slide behind him.
"There we go~" the man took a seat on his throne -your father had treated the chair as no less- before he started to wrap the belt-leash around his big and rough hand until his blistered knuckles were touching the sweaty and cold skin of your neck. You almost retched when the tip of your nose grazed against his crotch since he had forced you right between his giant legs that he had spread open.
You tried to back up; break free. But there was no way to turn or move with how tightly he held the belt. You did your best to control your breathing and not lash at his face with your claws. He had a gun and an entire army of savages waiting outside.
For better or worse, he may be your only chance at surviving this in one piece.
"You look prettier than what I would imagine every night after the day you would visit the tail section" a shard of icy fear tore down the ligaments of your spine before spreading in all directions at the base. "Submission looks so good on you, doll." He leaned forward and you shuddered at the sensation of his breath hitting your mouth. So close. Your feet tickled. "You wanna be good for me, right?" The tears in your eyes refused to stop flowing. You hated them and yourself for being so weak. It was shameful to let others see you cry. But you were so helpless without your guards and servants.
Weak.
You had no choice but to take whatever he decided to give you.
The pressure between your hips worsened.
Whore.
"Nod and tell me yes" the heavy thumping of his fingers against your cheek brought you out of your head. A wince shook its way past your lips when your spanked ass touched the heels of your feet. The overwhelming pain caused you to jolt forwards, going nose first into Curtis' face and making him chuckle. "Aren't you the most eager and adorable little doll?" Your face burnt in humiliation as you tried to pull away again but in vain, he only further tightened his grip around your windpipe. You choked, his face hardened. "I told you to nod and tell me yes."
The realization of the power imbalance between you two drove shards of shame down your limbs as you lowered your head and whimpered. "Y- Yes…" Your words followed a humiliating nod.
"Yes what?"
"Uhmm… C- Curt-" a loud gasp elicited out of you when you felt a punishing smack deliver to the side of your head which lolled due to the impact. Your bottom lip trembled as you blinked the stars away before peeking up at him through your lashes.
"Sir. It's sir to you, dimwit" he smacked the back of your head again, but this time the pain was felt in the base of your stomach which soon morphed into a hot ball that flooded down your holes.
Curtis moved back and leaned his back against the chair lazily, lacing the fingers of his free hand through your hair before he trained his eyes on you from scanning the rest of your body before pulling at the strands roughly. You cried out and pouted, he silently cursed and pressed his legs against your arms.
"Come here and undo my pants" your eyes widened but the second tug at your scalp had you complying before you could think twice. "Hmmm…" As your shaky fingers fiddled with the fly, he continued to play with your hair. "Maybe I should cut all this pretty hair off. Mayhaps make you a cute little slutty cue ball…" Your heart leaped at his words. Oh God no. "Turn you into a clean little slate to paint and mould however I please… This is a fresh start, after all" his nails scratched against your scalp and you sobbed in the musky scent that wafted out from inside his pants. "Hmm… Now pull my cock out" you sighed in relief despite how horrifying his words were.
At least his attention wasn't on your poor hair anymore.
What kind of a twisted person can say something like that?
Sure, you playfully suggested for the tail section ladies to cut or buzz their hair sometimes but it was only because they didn't have the proper facilities to take care of it.
You gulped to yourself and felt your core throb when you went to pull his cock out and it just seemed to never end. Four pulls later, Curtis' brutally thick and monstrously large cock was standing angrily in front of your face, his pubic hair decorating the organ and his matching ballsack.
Fuck.
It was almost beautiful.
"Put those slut doll boobs around it" your breath hitched at his words but a firm tug at the hair on the top of your head had you obeying his order. Anything but your hair. Biting your lip, you lowered your eyes before gathering your breasts in your sweaty hands. But you stopped when he clicked his tongue and tutted. "Now, now. Why are you shying away, Princess? I thought you liked to look into people's eyes, hm?" You felt like kicking yourself.
He was tormenting you for the torture you had inflicted on him and his people for so many years.
"Look me in the eyes while you do it" this time the pull was at the leash. You gulped again before you slowly looked up at him, a whole new sense of shame wrapping itself around your body when you saw the smug expression on his face. "And tell me yes sir."
Your palms met with the base of your breasts again. "Y- Yes, sir." Before you slowly moved forward and tried to ignore the fear and disgust boiling in your loins.
"Smile and thank me for being so generous and merciful" your knees almost buckled up when he scratched right behind your ear with the hand that was laced through your hair.
Your body was just confused… right?
It was just scared and excited– panicked because of this sudden burst of stressful emotions.
Since you had never experienced any of this before and now were suddenly being subjected to so much all at the same time, it didn't know how to act.
Yes, that had to be it.
You slowly smiled, feeling his nether hairs tickle the skin of your breasts as you clamped them around his cock, shivering at the contact. His veins were so thick and hot against your skin. "T- Thank you so much for being so generous and merciful, s- sir." Curtis bit his lip.
"Fuck, doll. You're just a natural, aren't you?" His musky scent filled up your senses as you continued to smile, not knowing what else to do. The man suddenly spat on his cock, some of the splatter also falling on your breasts. You flinched and nearly broke away with a gasp but his grip on your throat and head both warned and restricted you against it. "Move. Up and down, come on. Move and take the tip in your mouth, like the little slutty Princess that you are."
You almost faltered. But the darkness in his eyes quickly reminded you of the situation and so you started to move, your bottom lip wobbling once more. Your belted thighs burnt from the movement and knees ached. But you knew better than to stop.
Your breathing became laboured the more you moved, the thick red tip of his cock brushing against your lips each time you went down. Curtis hissed and grunted, snarling out condescending praises while his hips rocked against your boobs. He demanded you to take him inside his mouth again. You complied, gagging at the strong salty taste of his warm cock once he was finally inside. Your jaw ached. Fuck, he was big.
"Such a perfect cum dumpster" his voice was turning hoarse and animalistic, fingers tightening around your hair and causing a dull ache in your scalp. The belt would restrict you of oxygen every now and then, his cock hitting the back of your throat and making you gag to probably reach the desired effect. Stars littered your vision each time the male decided to restrict you of air.
Some things ached, others burnt. But nothing hurt harder than your pussy. Your abdomen was in actual pain at this point, thighs clammy and bruising cheeks squelching due to the amount of the white matter seeping out of your hole.
"That's it… such a perfect cum rag. Made to serve her Master… right?" You nodded, trying to peek up at him as your hollowed cheeks made humiliating sounds. "Good fucking cum dumpster Princess" you had told them that the lower classes lived to serve their Masters. He was only throwing them back in your face.
Oh, how the tables had turned.
Eventually, the slow and sloppy blowjob turned into fast and rough face fucking. Curtis slapped your hands away before he parted your hair into two pigtails and wrapped them around both his hands at either side of your head for a firm grip. From that point on, your slowed brain could barely register anything. The only thing you could hear was your own moans and retching as your tits flew left and right, ass burning each time it would come in contact with your heels due to how violently he was bouncing your body up and down like a yoyo.
Your head bobbed up and down his fat cock, pre-cum and spit oozing out of your nose as you choked each time he would penetrate your throat a centimeter more. Your red face was coated in sweat and tears, fingers curled around his calves for support.
Curtis grunted as he thrusted in and out of your mouth, tipping his head back and nearly growling when he finally orgasmed, tightening his grip on your hair as he jerked his cock inside your throat fully and finally. While his length violated your hot cavern in the form of quick jabs, your throat stretched and jaw nearly dislocated from the girth of his ballsack penetrating -or trying to- your mouth.
The taste of his salty cum took over your sensory buds. Your eyelids became droopy and chest heaved due to the lack of oxygen, brain making you nearly pass out when Curtis finally released your hair and pulled out, cursing as he jacked the rest of his orgasm out and all over your face.
Your whole body shook as you collapsed against one of his thick thighs, landing on your cheek and letting your eyes flutter close against the bursts of his cum.
Ever since you could remember, you had been given all the power possible in the world you had opened your eyes in as compensation for an unavailable father and no mother. An only child with everyone bowing down to her with an authority she didn't understand, you had used it for everything you could. Necessities, entertainment, emotional needs and voids, it was all you had; all you knew.
You had never known balance nor restraint.
The concept has ironically existed all around you but never made itself acquainted with you.
So you rebelled. Assaulted. Violated. Misused. In the hopes that someone would step up. Teach you. Take the overwhelming amount of power away from you. Of course it wouldn't be easy. But it would put an end to this frustration, this loss of direction, nonexistence of purpose you had suffered your whole life.
As you slowly opened your eyes and peeked up at the man softly panting while watching you, softly scratching your aching scalp with his nails. You felt a strange kind of light dawn upon you. A new kind of hope and warmth washed over you. Your body curled against his.
Savior.
"... G- God…?" Curtis blinked before he registered what you had just said. A smile slowly pulled itself on his face.
A God is a savior, right? Someone who provides a direction and protects from follies like excessiveness and uselessness. A being who provides a sense of purpose. Helps exercise balance. Protects yet destroys. Batters but builds. Shatters and then mends. The mighty and all powerful; one who controls and regulates.
"Definitely yours." You softly sobbed and smiled, whispering out praises and thanks as you kissed everywhere you could reach him. Curtis slowly shook his head as he caressed your head, silently commending himself on how accurately he had read you.
You were exactly what he had thought.
Just a pathetic little brat with unbalanced power she didn't understand nor deserve.
It wasn't a bad date. You actually liked Cole. He's charming and sweet and unabashedly optimistic which is why you said yes.
But you're not ready to start seriously dating anyone. You gently told him that after he walked you home.
And he gently said you'll change your mind right before the world went dark.
That was three weeks ago.
It's been the best three weeks of his life. A few searches through your browser history and kindle told him everything he needs to know about all your fantasies—everything you didn't tell him that night.
Turns out he likes everything you like.
And he enjoys making all your deepest, darkest fantasies a reality. In his opinion, his dedication to your pleasure is why each date night has been better than the last.
He's even rigged the entire farmhouse so you can roam freely, ya know if you stop trying to escape.
He hopes you do because you're starting to hurt his feelings.
"If you stop trying to run, you can sit next to me. Get some fresh air. Feel the sunshine. I'll even loosen the ropes so you can stretch your legs."
pairings: professor!frank adler x sleazy!bus driver!ari levinson x naive!reader x pervy!lloyd hansen
warnings: dark content, non/dubcon, don’t read if that bothers u pls, general pervert stuff lol, masturbation, dirty thoughts, university stuff, depraved thinking, n i think thats it?
note: not a full fic!! just a lil concept of what me n sab always talks about hehe <3 s’like our lil baby n i wna share it to u all <3
attending a university where your professor is frank adler and all the girls on campus gush over the hot older brunette. how could they not when he walks around the campus with the sleeves of his buttoned up shirt rolled up to his forearms and deep voice booming thru the whole room whenever he speaks. he’s handsome and everyone knows it, he knows it.
so it’s not a suprise for him to use his charm when he set his eyes on you, pretty little you. his star student. walking around with your short skirts and adorable tiny dresses that almost leaves nothing to the imagination. it drives him insane, and sometimes he thinks that you’re doing it on purpose, especially since numerous people have tried shooting their shot on him.
but to his surprise, your naive self doesn’t realize all the longing looks you recieve from people, and the many heads that you turn just with your presence.
so don’t blame him if you walking up to his desk with that sparkle in your eye and the shy smile that grows on your face makes his cock hard as a rock. you’re asking for clarification about one of the questions in his assigned packet but frank can’t focus, no. his mind is full of thoughts about lifting up your skirt and bending you over his desk while he slides your panties to the side so he can ram his cock inside that tight little hole.
maybe he’ll make you ride him in his chair too. but he’ll leave the door unlocked just cause he knows girls like you loves a little risk. he’ll whisper in your ear about how much of a slut you are for letting your professor use your cunt as a stress reliever, and bully his way into your hole while he rubs your nub. oh his cock is twitching under his trousers just at the thought of it.
he snaps out of his thoughts once he hears you ask if you could set up an appointment for a bit of help on the topic, and he tells you that he’s free right this second. thinking that if he plays his cards right, he’ll have you on your knees in a snap. but the frown that replaces your smile makes him curse under his breath, listening to your explanation about your part time job in the library.
guess his desires will have to wait. but don’t worry, he’s a patient man. and what frank wants, frank gets. one way or the other.
your job on the other hand though, is just so lovely. everyday after your classes are over, you take the campus bus while you stare out the window with your headphones plugged in your ears and your curious eyes watching everything move around you.
but the sleazy bus driver, ari levinson, manages to always catch your attention. you learned his name from all the small conversations that he always makes with you, a hybrid of a smile and a smirk always on his face whenever he speaks. he always asks about yourself, your major, what you’re up to, your love life, and sometimes he even makes a comment or two about your sex life.
it makes you confused, but the smile never leaves your face while you answer his intrusive questions, it would be rude not to! and your mama always reminds you of your manners.
plus, mr. levinson is so nice! he always make sure you look your best before you head to work! you got a dirt on your chest? don’t worry, he’ll clean it for you while his fingers make contact with your nipples. the wind is blowing your skirt up? well he’s there to pull it down! he even gives your butt a firm tap and a little squeeze that makes you blush. his hands always linger a little too long, but you don’t mind. after all, a little touch is nothing compared to the service that he provides for the students!
though behind that reliable bus driver facade, lies his true intentions. his head littered with thoughts of just snatching you up and using you inside the bus that you use everyday. make you remember how his cock feels shoved inside you while he drives you to your destination.
he thinks he’ll go slow at first, his left hand covering your mouth while his right holds his base until the tip of his cock meets your drooling hole. maybe he’ll even tease you at first, slap your clit with his cock and rub it through your folds and spread your wetness until he finally push his cock inside you. he bets you’ll like that.
but ari knows you’re just a fragile little girl, and it will take some time til’ he gets to his goal. so he’ll stick to staring and groping you for now.
after you step out the vehicle and give ari a little goodbye wave, you’re off to your favorite place in the university! surrounded by books and quietness that you so need after a stressful day.
most of the work you do is only organizing the books and checking out the items that people get, most of the times the students can fend for themselves. but there’s a regular that’s always apart of your day.
you think he’s an outsider, not really thinking he’s a student since his looks are far from being one and you don’t necessarily think he’s a professor or a staff either. after looking at his library card many times before, you quickly learned that his name is lloyd hansen. the man with a mustache that’s always using one of the computers.
what you don’t know though is how he jerks off his cock under the desk while watching you walk around the room. his cock rock hard and tip an angry red while precum oozes out of his slit. he imagines you licking it up all the time.
he edges himself everytime he does it, he waits until you’re stacking the books and reaches the bottom section. he watches you take the books in your hand and bend over to put them in their rightful places. that way, lloyd can catch a glimpse of your pretty underwear (that he likes to think you wear for him) and it’s what always tips him over the edge.
every single time he makes sure to keep his cum in his hands, and after fixing himself up, he picks up a random book with his messy hand to have an excuse to go over and give it to you. he watches as you take the book in your hand and take notice of the white sticky substance that transferred on your palms. you only complain with a small “oops!” before wiping the wetness on your skirt and giving him a small thank you in return. the action is enough to make his cock hard again.
and everyday it’s the same, perving on the prettiest librarian that he’s ever laid his eyes on and making sure that she leaves with traces of him.
you on the other hand is none the wiser, heart full for the man who always helps you. even though his eyes always seem to be on you and everytime he hands you an object, it always seems to have this wet, sticky substance. but you don’t prod! just happy to have such a nice frequent visitor!
overall, you love attending this university and all the people in it! wether they be a secretly depraved professor, a sleazy bus driver, or a pervy regular! you don’t mind, they just make your day so much better.
Chapter Summary: You are greeted by the Spirit of Christmas and he decides to confront your past and punish your stubborn behaviour.
Pairing: Chris Evans x f!reader
Chapter Warnings: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Dubious Consent, Manipulation, Dead Parents Description, Verbal Abuse, P in V sex, Rough Sex, Choking, Fingering, Humiliation, Heart Break, Ghosts, Swearing, Alcoholic Use, Classism.
Word Count: 9k
A/N: Please to all readers, understand I don't have a beta editor and I can miss some mistakes because most my typing is on the bus to work when I get the time to write. ALSO this is my attempt at the naughty or nice challenge using: 18. “If you didn’t want this, you’d behave.” @the-slumberparty an event challenge created by @navybrat817 & @darkficsyouneveraskedfor
12:59am 25th December 2023, New York City.
Among the nothingness of sleep, you could hear in the distance the sound of little bells jingling. You groaned, cracking your eyes open slowly. The sound was becoming more persistent and volumed.
It was freezing! The management still hadn’t fixed the heating system. You shivered and dug deeper into the duvet layers of your bed. You reached for your phone to check the time.
“Merry fucking Christmas,” you grumbled before rolling over onto your back. All memory of Marlene’s visit had disappeared from your mind.
You stared up at the plain ceiling. Your eyes grew hazy while your mind dissociated into thought. A single tear rolled from your eye.
God, you hated Christmas so much. You tried ignoring all the years. You tried pushing back the pain. You tried thinking about your jobs and tasks still incomplete. You tried not to think about how lonely you were, how unfulfilled you felt deep down. A mean tug at your chest made you hiss.
The ceilings image morphed into spots and shapes of different kinds...and when you chose to focus your eyes you could see the flecks of shadow clashing with light, wrapping and drawing out the shape of a person walking towards you.
You leant back and felt the mattress still under you. What you were seeing had to be part of some strange dream. You concluded you’d fallen back to sleep.
Gravity didn’t apply in this scenery.
The ceiling opened up, glowing in a soft calming light. The figure kept walking it’s way towards you. The closer he got the more you could acknowledge his face and good looks. He was lean and clean shaven, a depiction of youth. His hair was the colour of dark roasted chestnuts. He wore a white sweater.
‘Woah, what a weird dream...but look at how handsome he is.’
As if he heard your thoughts loud and clear he smiled with sparkling white teeth. Still unsure of reality, you lifted your hand up high to the ceiling. He did the same. He reached out with his palm out.
Your finger tips touched and you gasped at how warm and inviting he felt. Your mind ran filthy. You bit your bottom lip before lurching off the bed to the ceilings opening window into the handsome man’s arms. You swore you knew him. Something about that smile. You couldn’t place it though. Butterflies filled your insides.
His eyes were a blue that matched mountains. His cheeks sharp and strong but that smile was ageless.
You shyly bit the tip of your finger and giggled, “Kiss me.”
He cupped your face and accepted your advance without hesitation. His lips leant forward and met your starved mouth.
He was slow, sweet like vanilla. He pulled away and nibbled at your lips, sucking and licking with you. He was perfect. You were the first to pull away, panting and mewling. Your body rubbed up against his again. One of his arms cupped your back while his other hand cupped your cheek and ran his thumb over your bottom lip.
You felt his muscles, his hot body. His arms tightly held you, protecting you from the world and claiming you as his.
In your head this all made sense. Deep down you had met before, but where...God where had you met him? It ached not knowing fully.
Pulling away you moaned, “Fuck me. Please.”
You took his ginormous hands and pressed them against your breasts. Only a thin piece of satin separated your skin to his skin. You knew he’d be able to feel your nipples pebbling under his palms.
You kissed and nibbled along his jaw, panting, “I’m not wearing anything underneath.” And that was true. You underwear had gone missing after you had played with your toy while imagining a rape play scene. You looked up at him with doe eyes fluttering. Your fingers pinched the hem of your night gown. He smirked, his fingers danced up your thighs, and by your surprise....he forced your hem down.
His eyes burned bright blue, almost glowing as the world around you both faded black. His head shook lightly at you, his wet lips parted, and he whispered into the open air, “Be not afraid Y/N as I shine the light on your past.”
Your head jerked back, your eyes squinted, ‘What the fuck?’
The question filled your mind and escaped through your lips, “Who are you?”
The handsome stranger rubbed his thumbs into your palms and said with heralding tones, “I am he who sees past, present and future tidings upon the grandeur of Christmas day. I am The Spirit of Christmas. But you…may call me Chris.”
“Chris?” You blinked and rebuffed in an fit of laughter. You shook your head, disbelieving and feeling that heat of anger rise.
“The Spirit of Christmas,” you cackled, “I really did have too much to drink to be having weird dreams like this. You kiss me and tell me that you’re some mystic being?”
His lips flicked up, bemused, “You asked for that kiss, I merely obliged such a sweet request.”
Humiliation bloomed in the pit of your belly. You felt hot in the face and grit your teeth.
His thumbs ran over the pulse of your wrists, his eyes were crowned in a false innocence.
Your eyes glowered in seconds, “Go fuck yourself, Chris,” you fumed.
You shoved his hands away and turned around trying to imagine something else, hoping the dream would change or you would wake up. You stumped short and jumped back as your path was blocked by a horrific sight. A naked woman in the darkness, chained and kneeling at your feet. Marlene.
The memories flood back into your mind. Her ethereal form floating your bed with her frozen heart and warning words. Except she was no ghost in this form. She was hauntingly thin like a skeleton, the loos skin of her belly and breasts hung down, her skin was discoloured and sickly, her cheeks hallowed and her hair thin, balding. Her teeth were black, gums rotten, her chest made this awful whistling noise as she struggled to breath. Her finger nails were red and cracked. She was chained to the floor. She looked up at you with sad bloodshot eyes, shaking her head at you.
“Go with him Y/N, he is your last chance…” she shivered as if a cold wind had prickled her flesh. Her head hung low.
His heavy hand laid down bearing weight onto your shoulder. You gasped and looked back at him with fear. His face appeared mournful as he acknowledged Marlenes decrypted state. Those blue eyes you were enchanted by moments ago sent an icy chill down your spine as his attention turned to you.
“Come,” he softly beckoned, “Let this soul pay it’s penance…”
You licked your dry lips and tried to keep your cool without revealing your fear. You nodded, not chancing your voice breaking in an exchange. His palm held back out to you. You glared at him. With defeat and the tiniest tremble in your fingers, you finally tucked your hand into his, feeling his warm fingers wrap around you, you had to admit, it felt nice. He squeezed it softly and walked, guiding you away from the living corpse of Marlene’s soul.
After some time of walking away until Marlenes image disappeared.
The shadows felt literally heavy, weigh you down in what felt like a fight against gravity. You recalled a time you trudged through the snow up to your waist. It felt like this, yet there was only silence.
His hand was still wrapped around yours, tugging you forward mercilessly.
You felt like you could have tripped in the black abyss.
“Sp-spirit?” you finally dared to ask, “Spirit…where are you taking me?”
And then he stopped. You could hear his sigh and felt the air around you grow colder. This sexy dream had quickly turned into a foreboding nightmare. A flame of light flickered in the palm of his other hand, it was like supernatural magic.
He pulled you in closer and his other hand came around and slapped your backside.
You shrieked and tried shoving him back, “Ow! What the hell! That hurt!”
He chortled, “Yes, the past can hurt, especially yours,” his finger scratched under your chin, “But it can also heal if you learn from it.”
The floor beneath your feet disappeared and you both plummeted into the darkness again. You screamed as your belly lifted up into your chest. You squeezed your eyes shut and felt the spirit hug you tighter, your fingers desperately squeezed the wool of his sweater.
And then the falling stopped, and your screaming died down into violent pants. He still held you and then placed you softly down onto the ground below your feet.
His smile was gentle, “Here we are.”
05:00pm Christmas Eve, 1999, Texas, Austin.
Finally, you dared to open your eyes. Your hands were still clawed into his thick sweater when you looked around at your surroundings. It was a living room inside a trailer home. Red tinsel had been taped to walls. A small Christmas tree stood in the corner between the space of a couch and a basinet. Poorly drawn pictures of baubles, stars, Santa and elves had been scattered over the floor.
‘Ugh.’ Christmas decorations…but no, hold on…you knew this place.
And a soft hum of Jingle Bells filled your ears. You gasped. You knew who it belonged to in an instant. You let go of the Spirit and looked behind you.
A woman in the kitchen was opening a packet of biscuits, placing each one on a plastic plate. She was younger than you while sharing a likeness in appearance. The home smelt like gingerbread while she began to pour a cup of milk. She placed the cup on the small coffee table, sighing as she ran her palm over the swell of her protruding belly under her dress.
“M-mom?” you said shakily, “Mom is that…oh god mom! I missed you so much.”
You raced forward with your arms spread wide, seeking to hug her. As you closed your arms around her, you stumbled and fell hard to the floor onto your knees.
“Fuck!” you hissed and heard the mocking snicker come from the Spirit.
You twisted your body and sat back on your hands. You looked up and back at your mother, confused and dazed. Her feet were not on top of you, standing on you, but rather, she was standing inside and walking through you. You jumped in fright and crawled backwards, watching how she walked through you transparently.
“M-mom?” you whimpered, scared and confused. When she didn’t answer your voice filled with panic, “Mom!”
The Spirit, holding his hands behind his back chuckled, looking between you both.
You shouted, “What the hell is wrong with her!?”
His laughter pulled back and he hummed with a smile, “There’s nothing wrong, she can’t see you or hear you. These are but shadows of things that have been. They have no consciousness of us.”
She totally ignored you as she lowered herself onto the couch.
The Spirit held his hand out to you to help you up from the floor. You slapped it away and used the wall for stability. He didn’t appear offended or surprised by your viperous habits. You shoved past him and fell to your knees in front of her.
“Mom?” you said a little more gently.
You reached out to touch her shoulder. Your fingers went straight through her. Your eyes watered. She looked up from her belly and her lips spread into her perfect smile. Her eyes glittered, “Honey, can you please grab the cookies for Santa?”
Your face lit up and you nodded desperately, scooting back off your knees to fetch the cookies from the small kitchenette, but before you could step forward, you heard the tiny squeak of a child, “Okay, mommy!”
And from the corner of your eye you saw her... next to the tree was a little girl in a plaid dress and pig tails with plaid scrunchies, laying on her belly, kicking her feet back in forth with a crayon in her little chubby hand scribbling a poor drawing of a reindeer. It looked more like a cow with antlers.
“Is that…”
The little girl crawled to her feet and skipped to the kitchen, she looked so small compared to the plate she carried back to the living room and placed it onto the coffee table proudly put the beside the milk.
You stood up and took a small step back. You bumped into the Spirits chest, “Is that me?”
He laid his hand on your lower back. He watched you watching your much younger self.
He hummed, “Yes, you were seven years old here I believe.”
‘Yes, just before Caroline was born.”
Your mom leant forward and grabbed the little girl by the waist, tugging her back and peppered kisses all over her small giggling face while her fingers tickled her sides until she begged her to stop.
“Love you my little troublemaker,” she whispered against the tiny cheek.
“I love you too mommy,” you and your younger self said in sync. This, the Spirit noted with a calm expression. He walked around the room. The smaller girl version of yourself ran through him as he perched himself on the arm of couch and cocked his head at the drawings scattered along the floor.
“You had talent, you know?” he mused.
A slam of the front door made you jump. Your father with a big welcoming grin came home shortly after. The little girl cheered excitedly, running off to show him the drawing she drew for him. He picked her up and threw her in the air before catching her again despite the disapproving look your mother gave him.
“Daddy! Daddy! Look!” the little girl said giving him the picture, “Merry Christmas!”
He laughed with pure mirth and delight, his eyes squinted at the image, and he nodded.
You smirked; he had no fucking clue what the kid version of you had drawn.
“It’s beautiful babygirl, it’s ah…ah…”
He glanced over at your mother who mouthed the word back, “Reindeer.”
His eyes widened and his voice lilted, “A reindeer! Just for me!? Thankyou sweetheart,” he kissed her cheek, “I can’t wait to show all my friends this at work.”
He placed her safely down on the floor and walked over to your mother before sitting on the couch beside her. He put the picture on the coffee table and leant in to kiss his wife. Child you turned away and stuck out her tongue, in total disgust because ‘boys kissing girls was gross!’
“And how’s mommy been?” your father purred, laying a hand on her belly, his thumb lazily rubbed back and forth.
“Tired,” she groaned, “Little peanut is coming any day now. I can feel her kicking my rib cage, I think she’s planning her escape and wants to rocket out,” she breathed hard, her hand softly laced into her, holding it over the spot where your baby sister was kicking her feet.
You chewed your bottom lip and glanced at the Christmas Spirit who was grinning at the little girl in her pig tails and plaid.
You felt strange. And the strangeness was uncomfortable. Nausea filled your tummy.
“If this is a memory of just the past, “ you started wobbly, “Does that mean...everything is the same as it once was?”
“Yes, that’s right,” acknowledged the Spirit.
You smirked, “Good.” You twisted around on your heel and marched down the hallway that connected to your tiny bedroom.
A small surprised noise escaped you at seeing how pink and purple everything was coloured. On the walls was a my little pony poster. On your floral bed covers was your favourite Bratz doll. You sat down on the tiny bed and sighed before burying your face into your hands.
You tried sneezing. You tried slapping your face. You even got up and started doing jumping jacks. You would do anything to try and wake yourself up! A tiny knock broke your concentration, and you gasped coming face to face with the Spirit of Christmas. He was leaning against the doorway, holding back his laughter.
You sneered at him and sat back on the bed, panting softly. You tried remembering his name; calling him Spirit felt tedious.
“Chris was it?” you spat mockingly, “Is that because your name's Christmas?”
He dug his hands into his pockets, his smile unfaltered, “Nah, I just liked the name, it fits. My real name you wouldn’t be able to say because it hasn’t been said by the tongue of man.”
You rolled your eyes.
“Yea okay whatever,” you dismissed sourly, “So, what the fuck is this? Huh? Is this some kind of sick game, are you trying to hurt me?”
Your throat grew tight. You couldn’t believe what was happening and why of all people this was happening to you. What did he even want? Was this just some insane plot to blackmail you?
“Well, guess what,” your chin jerked out at him, “I’m not scared, I’m not hurt. In fact I’m thrilled!” you showed off your laughter, forced from your lungs.
His smile softened, “Ah, but why is your lips trembling? And...what’s that I see?”
He took a large step forward and stood above you. You laid back, flinching at his hand reaching down to you face. Your heart thudded loudly.
His finger was hot on your cheek, it rolled up and brushed your skin. He pulled back the finger, rolling it into his knuckle and moved it between your eyes to show you something
On his finger was a drop of moisture.
“A tear?” he whispered, “What ever for?”
Your face felt hot and you blinked away the others that escaped your lashes, you sucked in a deep breath and rubbed your nose.
You let out a fake nervous laugh, “Please, you think I’m crying? Have you not seen how dusty this house his? I’m just having allergies.”
Little did you know, the Spirit could see beyond your lies.
He sat down beside you on your bed and placed his large hand on your knees.
You felt vulnerable. You didn’t want him here, you didn’t want to be here. And what was worse was his silence. He did not speak for a long while. The only noises were the sounds of the little girl and her parents in the living room.
You sighed and looked at the floor. You missed this point in your life. Things were simpler. You were so oblivious to the world and it’s harms.
“Your father sounds incredibly proud,” The Spirit said, his thumb ran over your skin.
Your eyes fluttered and you nodded.
“Did you know he told you the truth? About your picture?”
You eyed him cautiously.
He snapped his fingers and your bedroom faded into an office space. You were sitting on a dark oak desk. Seeing the boxy computer with twistable speakers struck you with nostalgia.
11:00am 26th December, 1999, Texas, Austin.
Your dad came through the office door, holding a piece of paper. Your picture.
He pinned it to a cork board and one of his colleagues that followed him in jokingly asked, “What’s with the Picasso cow?”
Your dad huffed back, “Hey man, it’s a reindeer and for your information, my daughter made it for me. And I’m lucky to have it. What did your kids get you?”
The coworker snorted and muttered under his breath, “A phone call asking about Child support, always check if the condom is ripped my friend.”
The two men left, bantering between each other.
You looked at the photo of your dad, your mom, seven year old you and a baby Caroline. It was a Polaroid taken in the hospital. Your mom had little Caroline just before the new year. You all looked so happy. You loved being a big sister, you couldn’t stop leaving baby Caroline alone, eager for her to grow up and become your best friend. Were there times she annoyed you? Yes, she was your sister after all. But Caroline had a heart of gold.
The Spirit touched the photo and asked with mirth, “Such a beautiful family...whatever happened?”
You didn’t answer. You slid off the desk and marched out of the office door only to somehow walk right back inside...you gasped and turned back around but when you opened the door to leave it was like staring into a mirroring space.
You poked your head out of the office only for it to be poking back inside through the same door.
It was the strangest paradox that you had come to find.
The Spirit sucked his teeth and shook his head, “Yea, funny that...so here’s the deal...you are going to follow my rules.”
‘Asshole doesn’t know what a deal is.’
He stood away from the cork board and sat down in your father’s rolling desk chair, stacking his feet up onto the wood loudly.
Your hands protectively wrapped around yourself. His pupils seemed to expand and shrink quickly like a cat. Your skin crawled.
“What rules?” You scoffed, “Are these a part of your test?”
He nodded once, “Yes. See for this whole thing to work, you have to comply and participate...meaning,” he shoved away from the desk and launched from the chair to walk fast towards you, causing you to walk backwards and hit the wall behind you, his hand grabbed and squeezed your jaw, from his teeth he seethed, “When I ask a question.. you answer it. Or I could just leave you here...forever.”
Your eyes watered, your chest heaved sporadically, “L-leave me here?”
His eyes fluttered, “Oh I’m sorry, you didn’t think this would have consequences?” His nose pressed to yours as he remarked, “Your little friend Marlene is stuck haunting your apartment for that reason. She’s stuck in a loop in which she can never escape. She gets to watch you everyday moving into her apartment and moving all her possessions around. I could leave you here and do the same. I could let you re-watch your father hang up your picture for eternity.”
His bright blue eyes darkened almost totally black. At that point you couldn’t tell if he was a good spirit or an unholy one.
You swallowed hard with a whimper and squeezed shut your eyes. His hot breath tickled your ear.
“I can be merciful...so...” his thumb rubbed over your bottom lip, peeking out from your eyes you thought he might kiss you, “Let’s try again...”
When he released you and turned back to the cork board he clicked his fingers. You collapsed from the wall to your knees, too weak and shaky to hold you up after his dominant spell. Piles of work paper flew around the room, around his head, his eyes raced over the pages, the words turned glowing gold as he read over them with his supernatural powers.
“Your family looked stable enough for their poor income. You lived a decent childhood...” He looked over his shoulder, his eyes hard and demanding, “What happened that changed it all?”
You bowed your head cowering as you whispered, “You already know.”
The papers that swirled in a storm around him floated softly down to the floor in front of you. The ink of the printed words began morphing into swirling shapes and colours.
The Spirit said, “I’d like it if you told me. That’s how this works. We analyse what really happened compared to what you think happened.”
Your eyes stared at the colours in the ink rise, painting the image of a snow covered alley way from nightmares years ago. You gasped. Your mother, you and your sister were all walking down from the entrance. You clenched the front of your nightgown and desperately blabbered into begging. Tears ran down your face. It didn’t take much effort knowing what was to come.
“Please don’t make me watch it.”
You tried to move the papers away but the pages fought back in nasty stinging paper cuts.
Your covered your face and eyes before hearing the mystic being bellow, “Put your hands down!”
Half screaming you sobbed, “No, please! I can’t do it! Please!”
You stood up on your feet and threw yourself into him. He did not hold you and let you fall at his feet. He did crouch down and rub both his thumbs over your snot covered lip.
“Please,” you choked, his finger pressed to you mouth. He shook his head and softly hushed you. He cupped the back of your neck and moved his mouth to ghost along your lips.
You hiccuped and opened your mouth, waiting for him to just conquer a kiss. He almost did with how his tongue tickled your lips and teeth when he icily repeated, “Dont forget I can leave your here. And you can watch it over and over and over. Be a good girl. Tell me what happened.”
He sat on the floor and tugged you into his arms and lap. You buried your face into his neck and hiccupped again.
“C-caroline was nine and I was sev-seventeen...Mom took us Christmas shopping. We were gonna buy something for Dad. A watch. A really fucking nice watch because dad had a big promotion in New York coming up...on our way back home, a drunken asshole with a broken bottle threatened to kill us if we didn’t give him our bags. We complied and mom made sure to step in front of us. He got angry because it wasn’t a Rolex...he then...”
You broke down again and clenched Chris’ white sweater tightly. His fingers raced up and down your spine slowly and tempered, hushing you until you managed to start talking again.
“What did this man do?”
The pages turned dark burgundy red.
Your but your bottom lip and sniffled, “He punched the broken bottle into Moms’ belly. It was so sharp it cut through her jacket, her skin and fat all the way into her liver. There was nothing Caroline and I could do. We tried to stop the bleeding with our coats. But When paramedics arrived ....she had bled to death. I watched her choke on it.”
You wiped your tears and snot across his shoulder, the soft wool soaked it up. His strong hands pulled you closer into him. You straddled his hips, curling your legs around his back. Your night gown hem rose up around your nude hips. His body was so warm. He was like a blanket around you.
“She died, protecting us,” you gulped, “She died over a fucking watch because some greedy homeless drunk wanted money for some booze.”
The Spirit clucked his tongue, “Your mother passed and your father?”
Your tears had calmed down significantly, you covered yourself to sit on his thigh instead of balancing on just his lap. You twisted your body and stared at the moving pictures on the papers.
Your dad came to image. The black beneath his eyes and the sunken cheeks were not the man you wished to remember. He lit a cigarette and pressed a bottle to his lips.
“Dad got his promotion and we moved to Manhattan but...Mom’s death really took a toll on him.”
You were making paper angels on the floor with your sister. You hung them up together in her room. There was no Christmas tree. It was the Christmas after your mom’s death and before you left for college. It was the last Christmas you shared with Caroline.
The sweet ten year old was wise and emotionally matured than others her age. It was how she processed your moms death. Caroline at only ten was able to keep you and your father from experiencing more heart ache and grief.
You watched the two girls climbed under a blanket and play with a flashlight. You pushed over her wrist a rubber band loomed bracelet with her favourite colours. She gave you three fruity scented rubbers and a pencil she had been rewarded by her teacher at school.
“I used that pencil until the tip was impossible to hold,” you whispered and felt Chris’ warm wet lips press against your temple, he rocked you like you were the most fragile thing in the room. Maybe you were.
“She still keeps your rubber band bracelet in her bedside table...she wore it to the birth of your nephew,” The spirit stated.
You choked and cupped your hand over your mouth. You hadn’t cried so hard and so much in years not since-
“And then you left for College.”
You sucked in a deep and painful breath. You nodded and clenched your hand into a fist.
“College wasn’t so bad. I had my fun like everyone else,” you lied.
“Did you?” Chris smirked, “Let’s have a look at that then? Shall we?”
8:00pm 23rd December, 2012, New York University.
Your father’s desk morphed into a pool table.
It was the party of the season. Sororities and fraternities came together. You weren’t a member of a sorority. You chose to believe stand offishly that sororities were of a hive cult mind. It wasn’t worth networking in such a unnecessary club and housing.
You didn’t have friends in college either. You didn’t make yourself approachable. Always sitting at the front of the class room and never smiling. You were the dedicated pupil and that made you into the coldest fish of the school.
Your professors approval and marks is all you cared about. The more successful, the more opportunities and the more chances of gaining success enough to maybe look after your little sister. That originally was the goal.
You watched with Chris as a gaggle of Kappa delta girls giggled passed by a young girl no older than nineteen holding a red cup close to her chest. She looked disdainful and tired. She was wearing a basic white thankyou with a cotton scarf and jeggings. Thick black glasses at on the edge of your nose. You laughed awkwardly looking at the past youth. Your recalled your hipster phase in college but didn’t remember you looking this horrendous and mismatched. Your hair...you shuddered. You never did that style again.
“Fun party!” Chris called over your shoulder. He wore a red Christmas hat and in the crook of his lip was a party blower. The lights and music were obnoxiously jolly and hip hop rap remixes found on YouTube. You know YouTube? When it’s common the iPhone one was still a little television and not the red play button we know today. So many people were growing nuts over these two Neanderthals on a channel called “Smosh” at the time, maybe they were trying to mimic that movie of dipshits called Jack Ass.
Yes...party...you had been invited and you almost said no...but your mother’s death anniversary was coming up and you felt it appropriate to seek the comfort of other people and illicit items to take the pain away for a night. The young woman continued to help herself to the eggnog, standing right beside the table, spooning the goop into her red cup
You tried forgetting about the drunk monster that stabbed your mother all those years ago.
“A naughty freshman?” Chris chuckled, breaking you away from your thoughts.
He floated to the eggnog bowl and grinned,.“Barely a woman and breaking the rules, I wouldn’t have pegged you as a rebel.”
You rolled your eyes, “Hardly,” before walking over to sit on the edge of the pool table. Some guys were playing with their cues and balls. They walked through you as they passed by. One of them you remembered very well and tried your best to not acknowledge.
“It’s how you met him though...isn’t it?” said Chris, looking between the young woman and a young man playing at the table.
The man was handsome. Tall and dark. His eyes a burnt burgundy that sent the younger you thrills down your spine.
The young woman leaning in her corner and sipping her sorrows away was eyeing the game keenly. It looked...fun.
The very ass she looked upon was found and shaped with strong thighs and calf’s under those denim jeans. The ass belonged to a man. And that man turned around once he caught her staring in the corner of his eye.
He smirked and finished the game before swaggering over your way. Even now you still admired how good looking he was.
Chris was looking him up and down, smiling and cockily mimicking the walk but this time back to you so you could both watch the events of your forlorn past.
“Hey, aren’t you in my maths class?” The man asked leaning over her with just his right arm.
She ignored him initially, shrugging as a reply.
He chuckled, “You’re that weird chick that sits at the front right?”
Her eyes flickered back and her lip curdled, “And you’re that obtuse moron that doesn’t know the difference between algebra and calculus equations?”
Chris chuckled, “There you are. I was wondering when you’d come out to play.”
You felt a twinge ashamed. Is that how others saw you all the time? An uptight, haughty bitch? You remained quiet.
“Well...I find I act my dumbest when I’m around beautiful ladies,” said the confident man, “I get all nervous and stuff.”
“Nervous and stuff?” She repeated slowly, flicking her tongue deliberately against her teeth to sound out each precious syllable.
God, it made you cringe to watch yourself.
He leant in closer and pressed his nose to hers, his eyes glanced up and he said heatedly, “You’re standing beneath a mistletoe.”
Before he could officially kiss her, Chris clapped his hands and world the room around. He grabbed your wrist and made sure to stand you on his shoes as the people and party disappeared into books on shelves.
4:00pm 23rd December, 2013, New York University.
The pool table melted down into the shape of a smaller desk and chair. That same girl was sitting at it with her head in a book and her pen against the page. The sky outside was dark. It was snowing lightly beyond the windows.
That man from the party now wore a dark blue jumper and sweatpants, he wandered up beside her, sipping a starbucks milkshake.
She moved the thick black rim glasses from her face. Her fingertips rubbed circles into her eyes before returning back to the important reading material. Dark shadows bagged beneath her eyes.
“You were a dedicated student,” said Chris, his hands lingered up your spine and wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You nodded. You were.
The loud sucking of the man’s Starbucks cup made her slap the book close.
With her tight voice she snootily scolded him, “You know you’re not allowed food and drink in the library.”
He smirked, “Whatcha gonna do miss goodie goodie? Gonna tell on me? Gonna take my drink away?” he shook it, the ice cubes rattled I side.
He chuckled and chewed the straw. His eyes glanced at you up and down.
“Youre kinda hot...in a weird nerdy way you know?” he chuckled.
Both younger you and the you if now rolled your eyes and scoffed. But you knew the younger version was naive and how so many of those one liner comments got you into the most destructive relationship of your life.
The young man stole her book from the desk and ran off with it. Her shriek became laughter as she quickly collected her bag and pencils to chase after him.
The Spirit held you when he stood behind you His hands cradled your arms and hip, rocking you slowly, side to side. He watched the interaction of two young people deep into their puppy love with a great fascination over his face.
“Who was the handsome beau?”
“Anthony Mackie...the schools best hockey player and class clown idiot,” you muttered.
Chris hummed with pleased curiosity, “Is that all?”
You grabbed at his wrists and squeezed them tightly. You pressed your head back into his chest and sighed.
“He was my boyfriend,” you said quietly to Chris.
The library seemed to fast forward. Outside the seasons changed from winter, spring, summer fall and back to winter again. She was sitting back in the same desk again. Her eyes were still tired and now she wore a little more makeup to conceal it. Her eyes were glued to the pages, racing to read and write notes. Her ipod shuffle earphones were half broken, crackling each time unless you held the cord in a specific way.
And a soft humming slipped from her lips, totally immersed in her study.
“Oh, oh, where do we begin? The rubble or our sins?”
Chris side glanced you and you side glanced him. Without the music, her crackly voice just sounded like a dying bird.
“And the walls kept tumbling down in the city that we love. Grey clouds roll over the hills bringing darkness from above.”
“An awful drawer and a terrible deaf tone singer,” he laughed, “I didn’t think I would learn so much about the things you’re bad at.”
You had to admit, he was right. You stomped hard onto his foot. His lips puckered and his eyes squeezed in his silent pain.
“Oops,” you feigned ignorance, “Guess I’m bad at watching my step too.”
“But if you close your eyes,” she sang a little louder and you felt that second hand humiliation wave through you hard, “Does it almost feel like nothing changed at all? And if you close your eyes..Does it almost feel like you’ve been here befor-”
Behind her, Anthony came whistling around a corner and stuck his head into the study nook, stealing her head phone from her ear and kissed her cheek hard.
She smiled and just as quickly frowned.
“C’mon babe,” said Anthony, “Sebastian’s throwing a killer basement bash for the holidays. Let’s go to the party.”
The college girl laughed mockingly at her boyfriend, “I’m sorry, did you forget that we have a test tomorrow? I don’t have time to go out wasting it away with your degenerate friends.”
Chris hands sneakily ran down over your thighs and slipped beneath the night gown to cup your belly. Your breath hitched. You couldn’t tell if you were aroused or disgusted anymore. Why of all times and places was he groping you now?!
“Baby,” the hockey player sighed, “You’re the smartest chick I know. I’m sure you’ll pass tomorrow. A little bit of dancing and drinking won’t change that.”
“No,” she firmly hissed and turned her head back to your book. Anthony’s chest deflated.
“Anthony just wanted to party all the time,” you scoffed to Chris, “He was so horny and stupid I can’t believe I actually dated him.”
He gave you a side ways glance, his thumb rubbed tiny circles into your skin.
“So you dumped him?” he asked looking between you and your younger studying self.
Sheepishly you looked away and shrugged, “...not exactly...it’s complicated.”
“Enlighten me,” he whispered into your ear, kissing your cheek after.
Your body grew warmer by the second especially in places you wouldn’t have guessed. Your insides felt alive and buzzing. It was so wrong.
“...I...” Anthony paused and took a few moments to break out his voice, “I can see your studies are more important than me, huh? We haven’t hung out in ages and...you’re never taking a break from study to enjoy life with me... Is this really more important? I mean, c’mon...” his eyes softened, “It’s almost Christmas break.”
And it was violent. You jumped watching her turn and announce cold cuttingly, “As a matter of fact, this is. I don’t have time to waste on dumb doornail guys when I need to succeed. I guess I can’t expect a hopeless hockey player to understand. Go skate on some ice and hit a put, it’s not like you’ll be able to feed your future family.”
His eyes widened.
Your eyes widened.
Her eyes darkened with scornful hate.
He kissed her head and shook his head, he whispered, “Merry Christmas Y/N. I wish you nothing but the world in your palm, I just won’t be in it.” He stood away shakily. Tears were pearled in his eyes as he walked away leaving her to her own devices. She grunted and went back to her studies... The next morning you had earned the top score of the class.
You knew the break up was quick, you didn’t remember saying such a mean thing to the guy you had fallen mad head over hill in love with.
You couldn’t believe you had been so cruel.
But you had. And there was nothing you could do to take it back. It happened. It was done. Finished.
And Anthony did nothing wrong except invite you to a party, a party you never went to, a party where he met his future wife.
“Spirit remove me from this place,” you choked as your chest began trembling.
Chris hushed you and kissed the side of your head, “It’s alright, I told you before, these are merely shadows of the past, things that have been.”
He wiped the unwilling tears coursing down your cheek.
You shook your head and wailed, “I don’t fucking care! Remove me! Take me somewhere else!”
A vile sobbing wail screamed from your lips. You didn’t know where it had come from. Your knees gave way and you fell, Chris’ arm caught your waist in time and laid you down across the carpet.
The vision of time phased away to the darkness. You felt your heart get louder, fearing the unknown pitch black. His hot hand cupped your cheek and you found yourself cowering into his chest.
1:40am 25th December, 2023, New York City.
There was a faint light in the area around you. Dim and blue. Your eyes struggled to open...you lifted your head from what you originally believed was Chris’ chest. Yet it revealed to you quickly that the warmth was only your soft pillows. You were back in your own bedroom again. The sheets has been wrapped around your waist and legs.
You didn’t know how to feel. You just cried. You buried your head and sobbed. You missed your mother and the father you once had. You missed Anthony and regretted how much you might’ve hurt him. And you missed being touched...you missed Chris’ warm hands holding you and the foolish grin he wore. You barely knew up but you mourned his existence that might’ve not been real at all.
Sitting up sniffling and sighing hard, you got out of your bed and walked to your kitchen. You reached for your coffee machine and paused. No, you need something stronger. You went to the fridge and grabbed the bottle of wine from earlier. You intended to finish the damn thing and forget everything for a while.
Turn back around you returned to your room to lay back in your three thousand dollars bedsheets...
Except you didn’t recall buying him too.
Chris, still here. Now laying across your very luxuriously soft duvet. He made it dramatically obvious, running his cheek into your pillow smelling the essence of your tears.
Your spine shot up and down hot. You tried not to smile. You were pleased he was here. You didn’t know where he came from or where he was hiding before but seeing him again welcomed something into your cold heart.
His eyebrows wiggled, “Oh, Merlot? For me? You shouldn’t have.”
You hummed feigning your displeasure, “Its Pinot Noir... I didn’t think you’d be so uncultured.”
He chuckled, looking down at the soft fabrics he was pinching, “Yea, well I’m probably more knowledgeable on hot chocolate and eggnog more than anything.”
He pat the spot beside him, inviting you to sit on your own bed. You felt it was ironic and ludicrous.
“Maybe...anyway...don’t you have somewhere else to be? Someone else to bother?” You snipped and cocked your hip.
“As a matter of fact...” he rolled onto his back and placed his hands behind his head, “I don’t, so be a good snowflake and join me, the covers are incredible!”
You snorted softly rolling your eyes, “I know,” you sat on the bed and unscrewed the bottle, you took a deep sip and cringed a croak, “I bought them.”
He took the bottle from his hands, not asking if he could. But really what was the point in fighting him. He stole your wine and took his own sip. You couldn’t help stare at his bobbing Adams apple.
He passed the bottle back. You were going to take another drink before Chris said, “It all makes sense now.”
You eyes him putting the bottle down....he was daring you to ask it, you knew it...and you complied.
“What?”
You crawled onto your knees on the mattress and waited with your curious eyes. The wine warmed your belly. You tossed your head to one side, staring up and down the Spirit. He had such an appealing form for something so inhuman and supposedly holy.
He smiled.
“What!?” you repeated needfully.
He sighed, “This,” he waved his hand towards you.
“You just gestured to all of me.”
“Exactly.”
Your eyes narrowed and a bold bolt drove through you, the twinge of annoyance mixed with frustrated anger, “If you’re going to talk in riddles, you can get the fuck off my bed and get the fuck out of my apartment. Merry fucking Christmas.”
His smile remained but his eyes sparkled with mischief. He lifted his chin.
“How you became a holiday hating, grievously malicious, uptight little cunt.”
Your eyes could have popped out from your head, “Excuse me?!” You gagged on nothingness. Your fists curled...‘What happens to people who punched Spirits in the nose?’
He shrugged and sighed, “You wanted to know. Don’t blame me for telling you the truth. I don’t do white lies, that’s not in my books.”
You grabbed the wine again and took a mean big gulp, glaring at him from the corner of your eye, “If that was the case,” your voice said with barbs, “Children wouldn’t believe in Santa and the north pole and his company of elves.”
He pursed his lips and nodded before he snatched the bottle from your hand and vanished it from existence.
“Hey!” you snapped, “I wasn’t finished with that! It cost me-”
“Nothing,” he interrupted and tapped his fingers on his chest, “It didn’t cost you a penny because you got a refund when you lied to the winery that it’s wax seal was broken upon delivery when it very well wasn’t...but upon tasting it you felt it wasn’t worth the price you paid therefore it shouldn’t cost you a dime...it didn’t cost you a damn thing.”
You sat back and gulped, ‘How the fuck-‘
“Christmas past remember? I see all...so don’t bother trying to convince me that you needed to finish that meaningless sip,” he curtly said, “You need to focus on bettering your mindset and yourself. It’s important.”
You crossed your arms over your chest and pouted down at the floor. You wanted to cry and scream with embarrassment, you wanted to kick or break something.
He smirked and picked up your chin with a long finger. You sniffled and jerked your head away. You crawled down to the very end of your bed. You pulled the covers back and kicked the sheets before sliding your feet under them and pulling them up to your chin.
You huffed softly, feeling the prickling heat of tears behind your eyes, why did he have to shame you so easily, “Or what, you gonna chain me up like Marlene? Go on then, call me a cunt again. Put me on your big ol’ scary naughty list.”
You shook your head and rolled your entire body away from him. A tear rolled from your eye and soaked down into your pillow, meeting the rest of its previous brethren tears.
Chris gazed down at you with sad hope. He really did want you to pass the test. He knew you had the potential, but did you have the drive? Maybe you just needed the push...
You were lonely in life more than ever before. You were miserable despite convincing yourself you were incredibly successful in all parts of life.
His arm circled forward and bodly rubbed down your middle and curled around your waist. You sniffled again, ignoring his touch all together.
He laid his cheek ontop of yours and whispered, “Do you want to know what happens to naughty girls like you? You want to really know what they get?”
You shut your eyes, you didn’t want to look at him. You were upset and too ashamed. You didn’t want to be teased again.
You mumbled grumpily, “Coal up their ass?”
“Oh it’s not coal that goes up there,” he hummed deeply
Your eyes fluttered awake.
His hand reached under the duvet and touched your bare thigh...his finger tips wriggled in between your thighs and attacked your clit...your breath hitched.
“I gather you need motivation if you are to improve your outlook on life,” he breathed huskily into your ear.
Your lips parted, your eyes squeezed tight. A gurgling moan crawled from your throat. You rocked your hips into his hand and savoured his controlling hand.
Tiny pants left your lips as he pushed two fingers inside of your salivating pussy. He twitched them back and forth at an average steady pace.
His hot wet tongue licked from your shoulder up to your ear. His loud sucking on your skin cause a small keen shudder to glide down your spine. He kissed your neck and sighed into your skin.
His knee curled up and pressed between your thighs, he fully intended to keep your entire pussy open and available to his instrumental fingers.
“Look at you,” he muttered, “So compliant when I have my fingers up this stubborn cunt. Are you going to promise you’ll behave and obey me from now on? Cease you insistent fight?”
“Pl-please Chris,” you gasped,
He smirked against you skin, “Please what?” he purred
“F-fuck!” you whined and pressed your ass back against him, trying to rub against his hidden cock.
He slapped your backside once making you jump. He chuckled wickedly, “I will if you promise to obey and listen.”
You panted and groaned, “Make- make me!” you wouldn’t submit so easily....not even for unworldly dick.
His noise was feral, rising from the back of his throat like a growl. He pressed his mouth to yours. You whined, his tongue choked you and pressed your tongue down, dominating you even in kiss.
He gasped pulling back, “Very well you stubborn slut.”
He snapped his fingers and poof- the blankets, your night gown and surprisingly all his clothing vanished from the bed all together.
You gasped at the feeling of his hot skin pressing up your back. Your hands clawed the pillows as he thrust his fingers fast and hard. Your eyes started to roll until the sensation was totally lost. He selfishly took his hand back, moments before you hit the high. You whimpered and trembled. You couldn’t breathed you were a mixture of frustration, anger and needy obsession. You would have done anything for him to finish.
He sat up and rolled you until your belly was laid over his legs. His cock you could not see but feel touching you made you excited and eager to know how it would feel to fuck you. His hands roughly kneaded your thighs and bottom.
‘No...he wouldn’t...’
His hand came flying down cracking across the skin of your ass. You squealed and felt your hips launch up in the air. The sting was like a cutting burn that lasted for around thirty seconds. He did it again and again. His flat palm struck you and would the pain absorb before rubbing the flesh. You didn’t fight him and that did not surprise him.
Your hips wriggled and twisted. His hand was harsh and fiery. You groaned and savoured it. And when it felt almost too much and you tried to wiggle free. He pinned you down hard by your neck and shoulders.
You bit your lips and cried, really cried. You grit your teeth and sobbed through each striking spank on your naked ass. Your hands clawed the bed and the skin of his thighs. He hailed into you harder. You screamed and choked on your sobs. It wasn’t fun anymore. It hurt and he wasn’t stopping even when you began squealing and kicking your legs on the bed trying to twist your hips away.
“Stop! Stop please! Please! It hurts! No more, no more.”
“If you didn’t want this, you’d behave.”
You swore he had to have been flaying your skin by his hand until you reached back and cupped or own hot cheeks, protecting yourself from his whiping palm.
You sobbed and trembled. You flinched and whimpered with shining tears when a surprisingly soft knuckle brushed your cheek and his husky voice hushed you softly.
He slowly turned you over off his lap and dragged you close to his chest.
He shoved his thumb into your mouth. You didn’t fight or pull back. You sucked on this digit, wrapping your lips around it. You felt his arm wrap around you and pull you closer. Your breasts pressed to his chest, he was warm
And his thumb gave you something to focus on instead of your burn sore bottom. You whined and laid your head back on the pillows. You rubbed to cheek on the warm skin of his shoulder while he soothed you from your tears using his soft cooing and thumb you greedily kept in your mouth. You moaned and mewled over it, licking the pad and scratching your tongue along his nail.
His fingers ran up and down your back. He pulled his thumb from your mouth with a gentle pop.
“Look at you,” he whispered, “Greedy, spoilt, but once you’re faced with real consequences you come to heel...”
You tried shaking your head, denying it. No. You were an independent woman with control.
A false mocking awe came from him as he said, “Oh yes, yes that’s exactly what you are. But you’re going to promise to be a good girl from now on or else you’ll never cum again.”
You were speechless...you wanted to be fresh with him and state that you still owned a vibrator...but what if he took it away like your wine.
He spread your thighs, he tugged your knees over his hip and rubbed your clit with his fingers until you were wet enough to his liking. He kissed you again, laughing as you pressed yourself up into him, stealing any physical touch you could possibly gain. He ran a soft hand across your cheek, tender and loving. His lips suckled their way down to your chest. Those red cherry lips plucked at your nipples and soft breasts.
Finally the tip of his pink cock touched your pussy. It was firm and from what you could see in the faint dark, it was lengthy. Your arms reached up and held onto his shoulders, you dug your nails sharply into his shoulders as he entered.
He grunted and sighed, struggling to stuff himself in and would pause when your noises were whines of pain. He made sure to avoid any tearing.
And when he managed to press himself taut into you, his balls touching your ass and thigh, you felt like you had been through a workout.
The walls of your cunt were filled to every crevice of his fat cock. You moaned when he moved tiny thrusts into you instead of brutally slamming.
You pressed your mouth to him again, his eyes looking back at you with adoration. He jerked his hips back a little meaner watching you gasp. He mocked your gasp before kissing your nose and then your mouth. He did it again to taste and feel your gasp.
He moved you back, dislodging quickly so that he could climb over you and enter swiftly inside. He picked your legs up with the backs of your knees and anchored himself down, harder and faster picking up the speed.
“You hear that?” he asked and moved himself in smaller jerks, “Dirty little slut, you’re drooling syrup all over my pole.”
And if you weren’t so close to cumming you would’ve laughed. His hand pressed down on your throat. He barrelled into you and slapped a breast.
The sensations of being prevented to breathe as straight and the slap intensifies all your senses. You groaned and choked.
He hissed, bending down to press his nose into yours.
Your legs wrapped tight around his waist trying to lift your hips up to meet him.
“You want to cum?” he snarled? You nodded trying to not cry again. God you needed it.
“Pl-pl-please,” you gasped through the violent thrusts.
He licked your cheek and growled, “You promise to be on your best behaviour from now on?”
You whimpered and nodded.
His thumb attacked your clit as he fucked you.
“Cum,” he whispered, “Cum for me on my cock little slut.”
Your body contorted, muscles strained as you released a soundless scream. You threw your head back let you body be consumed by the orgasm you let tear through your entire body. Your bones and chest rattled. When air finally came to your lungs you let out a powerful sob. But Chris gazing down at you bore joyful vision at your smile as you cried.
You felt incredible, hit by a bus made of all things delightful.
His cock was still inside you. You didn’t take a moment to think about him or whether he cummed. You selfishly enjoyed the gift he gave you and forgot about the promise you had vowed.
He pulled away slowly. You hissed at the departure. So sensitive.
You curled lazily up into a ball and fluttered your eyes shut.
You only recalled feeling his hot lips against your ear, “I will return to you when the bell chimes once more...” his pecked your cheek and left you to lay in your mess, exhausted and falling into your own sleep again.
A//N: Do I know how a gym works? No. Did I google it? Yes. Where my search results effective? Absolutely not.
Warnings: Stranger sex? (Kind of, reader and Ari only just met when they get groovy), little!reader, mention of age regression, daddy kink, manhandling, degradation, mean!Ari, READER BLUSHES SO MUCH AND IT IS FUCKING ANNOYING (but like its Ari Evans who wouldn’t blush), non-con/CNC and dub-con, dumbification, manipulation, pain kink, blood kink, VERY ROUGH SEX, size kink, somnophillia kink, Pervy!Ari, implication to stalking, misogyny
Word Count: 3.2k
Dark!content under Ari <3
‘Screw getting your life together. Screw drinking water every day. Screw getting off your ass and screw going to the fucking gym!’ You cursed to yourself as you pushed the doors to your local gym open, unintentionally scowling at woman who was leaving.
You walked to the front desk and plastered a fake smile at the clerk standing behind the counter, “Could I have locker, please?” You asked, she looked up and raised an eyebrow, “Do you have a membership?” She asked, you looked around the desk cluttered with flyers and business cards, “Nope.” You popped the ‘P’, “$10 per hour with additional to use the showers.” She told, you nodded, “Great. Can I pay at the end?” You questioned, “Yeah sure, just take a key. One sec.” She tapped an earpiece and her demeanour immediately changed into an overly enthusiastic one while she walked away.
Your eyes rolled in annoyance, not at the clerk but just at the whole ordeal, ‘what were you thinking?! You didn’t know how to work out!’ You internally stomped your feet like a child having a temper tantrum, you grabbed a key and begrudgingly made your way to the locker room.
You almost got lost by going past the locker room but was redirected by a sign that said ‘Office of Mr Levinson’.
After packing away your bags and only keeping your, headphones, phone and water bottle out, you ventured out to where you could hear music playing a people grunting.
The sight of a mat class met you first and you quickly rushed past. Next there was a pilates studio; that would be a no. Finally you came across a large room with several people working out on their own, ‘at least this one wasn’t a class’ you sighed and pushed the door open.
Choosing you first exercise carefully, you decided a treadmill would be easy, ‘It’s just running! That can’t possibly be too hard!’ Boy were you wrong. After only 10 minutes on the treadmill you felt like you were dying, pressing multiple wrong buttons just to get it to turn off.
You hopped off and grabbed your water quicker than ever, God, you’d never been so grateful for water in your life.
“Oh sweet saints. I will never say another bad thing about you again.” You panted, laying back on the carpeted floor, you knew you looked like a fucking weirdo but you were in agony.
Recollecting yourself, you made your way over to a weight lifting machine, you cocked your head to the sighed in confusion before leaning down to try and pick it up but before you could even get it off the ground you heard a loud thud a few feet away and looked up to see a burly man jogging towards you.
He placed his arm on your lower back and quickly took the weight away from you, “You’re gonna hurt yourself really bad if you do that.” He warned with a laugh, you looked up and were met with an incredibly handsome face, you blushed.
“Oh…I- um- I didn’t know.” You mumbled, he laughed again, “Clearly.” HIs joke made your lips quirk into a shy smile, the man gestured to the dumbbell, “you want me to show you?” He offered, “Could you? It’s my first time at a gym or anything and I don’t really know how all these fancy things work.” You sighed, taking a step back so he could alter the weight.
You looked down as he removed several weights from the ends, “You would’ve broken you back if you tried to lift these!” He teased, you giggled and rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly.
After fixing the settings, the man stood up again and you took a step forward, “So, instead of holding them from the top, try grip them from underneath. It might make it a bit easier for you.” He explained, you curled your hands around the metal bar, “Like this?”, he nodded and removed his cap before standing behind you.
You almost gasped when you felt his hands on you hips, “There you go…and just kick your legs apart a bit- hey! You got it!” He positioned you just right and grinned when you did what he asked, “Now you try lift it.” He told, you tried to pull put instead squeaked as the weight toppled you forward.
Closing your eyes for impact you were grabbed by the wrist and pulled back to standing.
“So 50kg might be too much for you.” The blue eyed man thought, your eyes widened, “that was 50kg?! I was so close! Wow I must be like Hercules or something!” You exclaimed, patting yourself on the back, your new found friend laughed and so did you.
Once he stood back up to his full height, you moved once again towards the weight, “So how much is this?” You asked skeptically as you positioned yourself in the way he did for you before.
“I changed it to 20kg so just try that.” He told, you bit your lip and lifted it, a gasp escaping your lips when you got it up to about thigh height, the man stood behind you and reached his muscular arms around to help you lift it further.
With his help you could hardly feel the weight but still, it was an accomplishment.
You both placed the weight down and you clapped your hands, “Thank you so much, Mr…” You fished and he smiled, “Ari. Call me Ari.” He finished, you grinned brightly, “Thank you, Mr Ari.” You teased, bowing your head slightly, causing him to return your grin as he put his hat back on, “Not a problem, doll.” He winked, beginning to walk away, “My names Y/n!” You called after him.
If only you could see his little fist pump in the air.
————————————♥︎————————————
You were so fucking done. You just wanted a cold beverage and a long fucking nap, you decided as you exited the washroom, bag slung lazily over your shoulder and hair in an absolute mess.
As you finished paying the clerk, a familiar blue eyed man walked past you.
“Ari! Hey! Wait up!” You called, jogging after him much to your bodies dismay, he turned around and smiled, “Y/n! Hey, peach. How was the rest of your workout?” He asked, you blushed at the pet name, “Honestly I don’t get how people can do that everyday.” You threw your head back with a whine, Ari laughed, “You just gotta get used to it and y’know it’s really not that bad. You just gotta have the right motivation.”
He leant down to your ear at the last word and pointed to an ice cream parlour directly across from the gym, “Now that is genius business.” You commented, practically drooling at the idea of cold ice cream on a hot day.
There seemed to be a silent agreement between you and Ari as you both made your way across the street. Ari pushed the door open for you and you both stepped into the cool air conditioned parlour.
“Really, Ari? Another girl? Gotta be kidding me, man. How do you always get the hot chicks?” The cashier complained, ‘he must be a regular’ you thought, “Ha ha. Very funny, Sam. Now do your job.” He rolled his eyes, Sam laughed, “Just the usual right?” He guessed only to get a nod in return.
You couldn’t seem to decide…
“You should get the strawberry and cream.” Ari whispered in your ear, making you jump at the close proximity, you nodded quickly, eyes scanning for the one he was talking about. On finding it you pointed at the cashier, “This one, please.” You gulped slightly, not liking social interactions.
After both getting your ice creams you went to reach for your wallet but Ari was going first, Sam threw his hands up, “So now you pay? Guess there’s a first time for everything!” He huffed, Ari nudged him, “Come on, man. Not in front of the girl.” He teased, looking down at you playfully.
The door was opened for you by Ari and you ducked your head again in thanks.
“Your nice.” You blurted, he looked down at you, licking his ice cream already, “Yeah? What makes you say that, sweets?” He hummed, you shrugged, “You help me out. You pay for my ice cream. That’s nice.” You told, ‘God he felt terrible for what he was gonna do to you….not.’
When you didn’t get a response and only a continuous stare, you looked up and smiled as you finally began to eat your ice cream.
—————————♡—————————
The two of you had been so caught up that you hadn’t even noticed how far you’d walked until the familiar street where your apartment lay.
“My apartments just in here if you’d like to come in. It might not be too clean but it’s a shield from the sun.” You suggested, “You know people usually don’t follow strange little girls into their apartments but what’s a sweet thing like you gonna do?” He mused, unbeknownst to him you were blushing madly.
—————————♡—————————
You fumbled with your keys before unlocking the door and stepping inside, “It’s not anything fancy but it’s the best I’ve got.” You mumbled, letting him inside.
His eyes wondered around the colourful apartment as he dropped his gym bag to the ground, “It’s cozy.” He told, plopping down on one of your plush sofas, “You think?” You blushed hopefully, pressing your hands together, Ari smiled and nodded, “S’cute. Jus’ like you, button.” He winked.
You covered your face with your hands and turned away from the tall man.
“Do you want anything to eat or drink?” You asked, trying to distract yourself with a domestic task, “I’ll have a coffee, thanks, peach.” He replied, now taking his shoes off and setting them by the door.
You had tried to stop drinking coffee a while ago since you’d decided you wanted to get your shit together, so you’d asked one of your taller friends to put it in a top cupboard…one you couldn’t reach.
Chewing your lip, you tried to stand on your tiptoes to reach it and managed to only skim the shelf with your fingers.
Suddenly, you felt a grip on your waist and looked up to see Ari, he reached the coffee down and placed it on the counter, “Oh- thank you.” You blushed again, turning to face him, ‘fuck he was tall’ you gulped, realising your weren’t even shoulder height with him.
He smirked, “Where’s the bathroom?” He asked, you cleared your throat and tried to step back, only to run into the bench, ‘god you were such a klutz’ you winced, “Through there.” You pointed to a small door just off the main hall, he smiled, “Thanks, doll.”
As you were banging your head on the kitchen counter, you heard Ari call out, “Hey peach? What’s with all the stuffed animals?”, your eyes widened and you quickly ran to your bedroom, “No! Um- Nothing! Here let’s go, your coffee should be done any second!” You tried to drag him but his large frame didn’t even budge.
He pushed past you and moved to the bed, seeing that everything was either pink, with animals or both.
You blushed, ‘I think I’ll just die now.’ You thought, wanting nothing more than to wake up from this horrible dream, a sexy godlike man had walked into your life and was now snooping in your most private space.
“Has it got a name?” Ari’s voice snapped you out of your daze and you saw him holding one of your penguin stuffies, “That’s um…his name is…” You couldn’t seem to get it out, too embarrassed with the truth.
Ari tugged your hips and only now you were almost level with him, ‘how fucking tall is this man?!’ “I asked you a question, angel. It’s polite to answer.” His voice was cool and commanding.
“That’s Mr Waddles but he’s not my favourite.” You finally said, he hummed and placed the penguin down again, “Which one is your favourite?” He asked and all embarrassment flew out the window, replaced my giddiness and excitement.
‘Ari wasn’t judging you! He was just interested!’ You thought happily as you skipped to the other side of the bed.
You picked up your favourite white bunny with a pink bow, “This is Mrs Snuggles. She’s my favourite because we can play dress up.” You explained, handing it to him, “be careful.” You added.
He examined the stuffed toy, “Mrs Snuggles is very lovely, button, but how bout’ you show me your dress up costume?” He asked, you blushed and shook your head, “Can’t show you that one.” You told, Ari raised an eyebrow,, “Why’s that, angel?”, “Cause that would be bad. Not meant for guys to see.” You muttered.
Ari picked up your rabbit toy and moved it animatedly, “So Mrs Snuggles gets to see but I don’t? That’s not very fair.” He faux pouted, “Well Mrs Snuggles is a girl!” You explained with a giggle.
He gave you puppy dog eyes and you sighed, “You gotta sign the pact of secrecy.” You crossed your arms defiantly, he sat up against your headboard as you went to reach for Mrs Snuggles, he shot forward and planted his lips to yours.
You tried to step away but he pushed you back on the bed, hovering over you, “Ari- no… What are you doing?” You breathed, trying to push him away, “You think any guy wants to hear a slut talk? Here’s a lesson for you, sweetheart. The only good thing about you is your holes. And if you ever forget that- well, you won’t, because I’ll be here to remind you.”
His harsh words made tears form in your eyes as he began to tear your gym clothes off, somehow ripping the lycra in half/
“Dumb baby. Didn’t your parents ever tell you not to let strangers into your home?” He mocked, finally reaching the layer only covered by a bra and panties, you squirmed and shook your head as you sobbed, Ari tutted, “Thought you were nice.” You sniffed as he brushed your hair back, “You thought wrong, button.”
After losing so much energy in fighting Ari while he stripped you of your clothes, ‘I should just give in… It would be much easier, letting him use me until he’s satisfied, then he’d let me go…right?’ You thought.
Ari noticed you stopped fighting and smirked proudly, “What a good little slut. Knowing her place.” He mused, “Just please…be gentle.” You begged softly, h kissed your forehead sweetly, “No.” his fingers entered you with such force that it hurt.
You’d had sex before, but not like this. The first time was awkward but your parents always told you that sex should feel good…this didn’t.
Screaming bloody murder, Ari sighed and grabbed your rabbit stuffie and shoved part of it in your mouth as a gag, “You know, baby, if you’re quiet then maybe I’ll make it feel good for you.” He nodded along slowly, pouting cruelly in the process,.
A sob bubbled out from behind the rabbit as you nodded slowly, “Gonna be quiet? Let me use you like my own dolly?” Ari asked, slowly easing up the rabbit and placing it to the side comfortably when you didn’t scream, “P-please…hurts, Ari. Hurts so bad…” you whimpered, “S’gonna hurt a lot more when I put my dick in you so you’re lucky I’m even giving you prep.” He hissed.
Your hands squeezed the soft pink sheets, “What do you say, baby?” He pressed, you closed your eyes tighter, “Thank you, Ari.” You whimpered, he entered another finger into you and continued to prod places you knew they shouldn’t.
His other hand comes down between you both as he moves to kneel before you, thinking you’d be able to escape you quickly shoot up but before you can even stand Ari has you back underneath him and you’re hitting his chest with your fists.
“Get off me! Please!” You cried hoarsely, tears now flowing freely, he scoffs and begins to undo his belt, “Was gonna be nice and treat you good but after that you’re lucky I don’t fuck your ass.” He spits, tying your wrists with leather.
Now having easier access to his own pants, Ari slips them down his big thighs along with his boxers.
He removes his shirt before climbing over you, he slaps his dick on your face in a degrading way, “You thought my fingers hurt, poppet? My dick is bigger than your whole head. You’re gonna be sore for weeks.” He threatened, you whined and tried to move your hips.
Ari moved back down your body and positioned himself at your entrance, ‘god he was gonna split you in half…’ was your last conscious thought before he rutted into you.
“S-s’too big…gotta…you-“ Words incoherently fell from your lips, “See, honey? This is how girls like you are meant to be. Dick drunk and babbling.” He smirked.
‘Ok so. Maybe it wasn’t that bad’
“Daddy- hhhgn- fuck.” You didn’t mean to let the words slip but the he was so fucking big and it hurt so fucking much, “Daddy, huh? Tell me who your daddy is, little girl. Scream for you daddy.” Ari taunted, now snapping his hips brutally against your own, his pubic hair chafing the skin around your thighs.
“H-hurts, daddy…” Your voice softened as your head felt light, Ari kisses your tears away, rubbing his beard hairs over your cheek in the process, “I know, baby. But you looks so pretty bleeding for me.” He moves a hand between you two and picks up some of you blood of your clit, making you shiver and convulse slightly, he scoops it up and begins to paint it on your tits, “so fuckin’ pretty…”
His voice trails off as the world goes dark.
—————————♡—————————
You wake to a warming sensation in your abdomen as well as an excruciating level of pain, you go to cry out but are muffled by blonde hair covering your senses.
Tuning back into the real world you hear panting near you ear, “Ari…” You mumbled, lids still heavy, he doesn’t even look at you as he sits up, pulling his cock from you along with what felt like half your organs.
As soon as his shaft left your body, you curled up and hugged yourself, feeling hurt and violated, “Taste that, honey.” His hand moves between your legs again and he swipes more of your blood mixed with yours and his come.
Gave me so many good orgasms while you were asleep. Such a good cunt.” He whispers, pushing his fingers past your lips as you taste the vile mixture, “Thank you, daddy.” You garble as the tears cloud your vision.
A proud smile overcomes Ari and he kisses your cheek, “I’ll see you again at the gym, ok, honey? My office is just behind the womens locker room.” He winks, gathering his clothes and leaving the room.
‘Did he own the fucking gym?’
*Mario theme* WELL FUCKERS THAT ESCALATED QUICKLY. I kinda wanna do a series out of this like @balenciagabucky did with midnight train because it’s like my favourite fic series ever.
