I’m sold, would read an entire book of this
Pairing: Motocross!Curtis Everett x Female Reader Summary: Curtis can't stand you. At least, that's what he tells himself. Word Count: Over 820 Warnings: Very mild eventual enemies to lovers, quick judgement, light banter, Curtis doesn't want to admit he wants you. Motocross!Curtis Everett (he's a warning, okay?) A/N: Meet Rusty and Princess! My first time writing for Curtis. Excited to dive into their eventual romance. Thanks to @drabblewithfrannybarnes for looking this over, @buckyownsmylife for the Rusty nickname, and @nocturne-pisces for previous discussions. Any and all mistakes are my own. Header by yours truly, banner by the amazing @sgt-seabass and divider by the talented @saradika . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated! ❤️
Curtis Everett couldn’t stand you from the moment he laid eyes on you.
When he wasn’t racing or practicing, he worked at the salvage yard that your father owned. He didn’t mind the work and the pay was decent.
Between his job and the tracks, he was bound to be surrounded by dirt and grime.
While he enjoyed working for your dad, who showed time and again that he was a hard worker who respected his employees, you were a different story.
The first time he spotted you at the yard, you walked toward the office with a casual sort of haughtiness that made him sneer.
Your purse likely cost more than his entire paycheck, as did the rest of your outfit.
Glancing at your manicured nails as you stopped walking, he wondered if you ever worked a day in your life.
A princess amongst peasants. He knew the type all too well.
“Excuse me,” you said, sliding your sunglasses down to stare at him with a cool, assessing gaze when he didn’t say anything. “Excuse me.”
“What do you want?” Curtis asked, thankful that it wasn’t his customer service skills he was paid for.
“You’re kind of standing in front of the door and I’d like to go inside.”
“Please, tell me you’re not applying for a job here,” he said before he could stop himself, looking you up and down. “You’re a little overdressed.”
He did not sweep his gaze over you because he found you attractive.
You lifted your chin with a grin. “I have a job, thanks. I’m actually here to see my dad.”
Curtis glanced at the door over his shoulder before looking back at you. “Your dad?”
“Yeah, my dad,” you said, taking a cautious step forward, like you were afraid you’d scuff your shoe. “He owns this place.”
Looking you over again, he couldn’t imagine you as the boss's daughter.
Your blue collar father who tore it up on the track before he stopped racing years ago didn’t seem like the type to raise a spoiled brat.
To be fair, Curtis didn’t actually know if you were a brat. He knew better than to judge a book by its cover.
But he already placed you in the “first class” section of his mind.
Too good for someone like him.
“So, may I please go inside?” you asked, sliding your sunglasses back up. “You’re still standing in front of the door.”
“By all means, princess,” he said, taking a bow before he stepped to the side.
You scoffed as you brushed past him, the sweet scent of your perfume lingering in the air. “Aww, if I’m a princess, does that make you my brave knight?”
“Not a chance,” he muttered, torn between purposely bumping into you to get your clothes dirty or shoving you against the door and kissing you.
No, he was not going to think of how your lips would taste. He refused.
“That’s too bad,” you said over your shoulder. “So nice to meet you, Rusty.”
“My name is Curtis,” he said through his teeth, wondering why he bothered correcting you.
“Tell that to the name on your shirt and the dirt on your face. Bye, Rusty!” you said, shutting the door behind you.
"It's Curtis!" he shouted, snatching the hat off his head and almost throwing it in frustration.
He vented later that day to Daisy, one of his only female friends.
“Just because she dresses well doesn’t mean she’s stuck up. Maybe she just likes to look nice."
"No, she's a stuck up pretty princess," he argued.
"You just called her pretty."
"When are you gonna ask Steve out?" he asked, changing the subject because he refused to focus on the fact that you were pretty.
No, he already made his mind up about you.
It didn’t matter that you started stopping by the yard more to bring your dad and the crew food, which he grudgingly accepted after Edgar gave him a hard time.
"She's just sucking up," Curtis said, wiping his hands before he grabbed a sandwich.
"It's working," Edgar said with a mouthful of food.
It never once got under his skin that you still called him “Rusty” with a smirk whenever he called you "Princess".
"You know my name, Princess. Watch where you're stepping."
"Careful, Rusty," you teased. "I'll start to think you care if I get dirty."
And it didn't mean a thing when you stepped into the office late one night to help sort your dad's paperwork when he had to leave early.
Which was the first time he saw you look less than perfect when he caught you wiping a stray tear away as you headed back to your car.
He thought of calling after you to see if you were okay, but he didn't. He was probably seeing things.
Besides, it wasn't any of his business. You weren't his girl.
A princess like you never would be.
What do we think, lovelies? And, yes, Daisy is another reader who is totally crushing on Steve Rogers. Curtis approves. Love and thanks for reading. ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Dialed In Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
Healingfromptsd
I'm 21 but can I tag along?
Congrats hun! Captain America would be proud of y'all!
Also how about 'monster cock' with Steve? I know I have no class😶😶
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female!Reader
Summary: It was big, and you couldn’t stop staring.
Warning: Explicit language. Sexual themes. 18+
Teaser
“Jesus,” you squeaked, unable to look away from the monster cock before you.
Steve could feel his blush heating up his chest and face, even his ears were burning.
“I’m sorry,” he stuttered, not quite sure what to say. “I uh, well, you know how I am with these things.”
You blinked owlishly, finally pulling your gaze from the big screen TV that was playing some ridiculous monster cock porn. You glanced over at Steve, smiling as he held our three different remotes for you.
“I don’t understand why there’s so many for one device.”
You giggled, picking the main remote and quickly shutting off the porn.
Steve actually sagged in relief when you fiddled with the buttons and CNN lit up the screen.
“I wasn’t watching that, by the way,” he gestured faintly toward the TV. “It just started playing when I was making my smoothie.” He thumbed over his shoulder toward the communal kitchen.
You glanced between the kitchen and the TV, then to the little red light that indicated one of Tony’s many easy to miss surveillance slash Jarvis devices.
“I have an idea what happened,” you muttered. “I think Tony was messing with you.”
“When isn’t he?” Steve rolled his eyes before moving back toward the kitchen.
Feeling mischievous, you tagged along, leaning against the counter across from him. You watched as Steve grabbed a handful of kale from the big bag on the counter as he went about finishing his smoothie.
As nonchalantly as possible, you asked, “So was that your first time seeing a monster cock? Or do you see one every morning when you shower?”
You giggled as Steve completely missed the blender and dropped his handful of kale on the floor.
The "BECAUSE SEX WITH ANDY" defines me way too much
But omg
What... happened?! She was fierce, and then scared, and then horny, and then soft and horny and I was here like.... I'm also soft and horny I want a Andy for myself to?!
I've been a good girl where's my blackmail?
Pairing: Andy Barber x Fem!Reader Word Count: 7,651 (WHAT THE FUCK???) Summary: You were just doing it to protect your family, at least that’s what you kept telling yourself, especially once you started to like it. Warnings: Explicit sexual content. Explicit language. Dub con. Blackmail. Mention of minor character death. Hand job. Vaginal fingering. Unprotected sex. Soft!dark Andy Barber. AU. Dark fic. 18+
A/N: Hellooo, my pretties! So this fic is based on a dream I had a few of months ago. It was originally about mob!Steve, but the more I mulled over this idea and hoed with @angrythingstarlight the more I was like fuck, I need to write me some mob!Andy! Also also, we’re playing with soft!dark here, and I will always and forever credit @giorno-plays-piano for that concept living rent free in my brain 🥴🥴 Enjoy! I love you! Also I can’t believe I’m still writing Kinktober fics in January. Maybe I’ll just draw it out till Kinktober 2021 at this point 👀
P.S. Y/F/N = Your father’s name
It was only a few days after you buried your father when you woke to the sound of gunshots in your family manor.
You blinked into the darkness of your room, listening so hard–so intently–that the silence was deafening.
Then the sound of raised voices from downstairs rose up. Your mother’s anguished cry. Your younger brother’s frightened shouts. Gruff male voices that you didn’t recognize.
You were moving before your brain caught up with your body, the satin of your short sleep dress pulling against your thighs as you slid from bed.
You were careful as you slipped from your room, knowing the converted attic, and the back stairway that led down into the pantry hall behind the kitchen, could be noisy and draw attention, which was the last thing you wanted.
Especially since you didn’t know what you were walking into.
Continuar a ler
Dammit I was hoping I was wrong and Bunny would actually have someone that wouldn’t betray her
Pairing: Ari Levinson x Fem!Reader x Mike Weiss (the Mike stuff will be brief) Word Count: 13,510 Summary: Your whole life, all you wanted was to be part of the Devil’s Advocates inner circle, but you were relegated to a tagalong, often forgotten unless someone needed something from you. You were invisible, to everyone, well, everyone except him. Warnings: Biker AU. Explicit language. Explicit sexual content. Soft!dark Ari if you squint. Mike is a bad friend (all the DAs kind of are). Reader is on the periphery of the DAs and kind of just…forgotten 🥺 Reader is sweet, shy, & socially awkward; she’s also sensitive & struggles w/anxiety. Mentions of drug use, addiction, almost dying from an overdose, & Narcotics Anonymous. Caring for a parent with Alzheimer’s. Verbal abuse. Attempted assault. Mentions of a size difference. Panic attack. Gaslighting, manipulation, & attempted blackmail. Angst.
A/N: Oh hoe hoe, my dear friends. This is the Devil's Advocates storyline I've personally been waiting for. It's been living rent free in my mind for ages, and I am just so stoked to share it with you. I couldn’t resist submitting this first part for my Birthday Bonenanza 😊 I think this story will likely be a few parts at least, and SHOCKER: there’s only a hint of smut in this first part, so we are starting hard with plot and setup, for once LOL. I hope you enjoy this, and I can't wait to hear what you think. Enjoy! ❤️
Prompts: Biker AU + Shy!Reader + Surprise plot twist!
Your attention was pulled from the spreadsheets filling your computer screen when you heard the rumble of a truck engine outside, then the crunch of gravel beneath tires as a vehicle parked in the lot beside your small office building.
Perking up in your seat, you smoothed down the front of your new blouse. Well, new to you, since it was from the thrift shop, but you still liked it and took a second to make sure it was neatly tucked into your skirt as you straightened your spine and smiled as the front door opened and your boss, Mike Weiss, appeared.
Mike was so much more than your boss though.
He was your life-long friend. He was a Devil's Advocate. And he was your crush.
It was silly, you knew that, to still carry a torch for him after all of these years, but you just couldn't help it.
His father and yours had been close, an older generation of the DAs biker gang, so Mike had been a fixture in your life for as long as you could remember.
You may have grown apart over the years, but staying local to Newton helped, as did applying for the job as his administrative assistant at his small accounting firm.
Over the years, your role had grown to being an admin for all of the Advocates' legal business, not just the accounting firm but also Frank's Auto Repair and Everett Construction. You even helped with the backend for Jo's Pub, since both Andy and Curtis were partners with Jo on that establishment, too.
You couldn't ride a motorcycle, and you weren't an "old lady" to one of the crew (yet!), but you helped and were involved in your own small way.
Even if it was overlooked more often than not.
Shaking that ungrateful thought from your mind, you smiled bigger as you greeted Mike, watching as he juggled his briefcase, a to-go cup of coffee, and his cell phone that was buzzing with an incoming message.
"Morning, pip," he shot you a small smile.
You tried not to grimace at the nickname. Pip, short for pipsqueak, which Mike and some of the others used to call you when you were children because you were younger and smaller than all of them.
It wasn't the most flattering nickname, but it was yours, and from them, so you shrugged it off, quickly rising from your seat to take Mike's briefcase and coffee from his hands.
"Thanks," his smile grew bigger in gratitude as he followed you into his office.
Rounding his desk, you set down his things and lingered to see if he needed anything.
Mike took a moment to type out a quick reply on his phone before setting it aside, unbuttoning his suit blazer, and dropping into his seat with a sigh.
"So, what's on the agenda for today?" he asked, reaching for his coffee and taking a drink.
"I'm almost done with the data exports for the monthly P&Ls," you told him. "No meetings though, so it should be fairly quiet."
"My favorite kind of day," Mike grinned. "Maybe we'll both be able to clock out early, but shhh, don't tell the boss."
You giggled at his joke, your eyes soft as you watched him for a moment.
He was looking much better these days, his pallor healthier, the bags beneath his eyes not so dark. Even at his worst, addiction wise, Mike was always a very good looking guy.
You resisted the urge to sigh a little, stuffing down the anxiety that bubbled up in your gut as you looked him over, trying to spot even a hint that he was using again despite his promise that he was attending his daily Narcotics Anonymous meetings and clean for the first time in years.
You had been the one who found him when he overdosed six months ago, right here in this very office, and you didn't want to miss the signs again.
That awful moment would forever be ingrained in your brain, when you walked in and found Mike passed out on the floor, pale as a ghost and barely breathing as he laid in a pool of his own vomit.
You remember thinking he was dead and being more scared and devastated than you had ever been in your life.
"Anything else?" Mike's voice pulled you back to the present moment.
You wrung your hands, trying to shake out the sudden bout of anxious energy as you mustered a smile and shook your head. "No, but let me know if you need anything." You hesitated before asking. "You're…good?"
There was a flash of something in Mike's eyes at your trembling tone, something that let you know that he got your meaning, knew what you were really asking, and his smile faltered for a beat, even as his features softened.
"I'm all good. Really."
"Okay, good," you nodded, swallowing nervously and blinking back the sudden wave of tears burning at the back of your eyes.
You weren't sure why you were feeling so emotional all of the sudden. Maybe because you loved Mike and just truly wanted him to be okay, to be happy and healthy, to thrive.
That's what you wanted for everyone, but especially Mike.
"I mean, I'm always good when I have you by my side, pip. We both know I couldn't function, let alone run this business, without you," Mike teased.
You shot him a shy smile, murmuring a quiet, "I don't know about that," before turning on your heel. You got as far as Mike's open doorway before his voice made you pause.
"How's your dad doing?" he asked.
You slowly turned back to him, touched by his question. Then you tried not to be disappointed when you realized he was only half-paying attention to your answer as he scooped up his buzzing phone to reply to another text message.
But you knew Mike was a very busy man, and yet he still took a moment to ask about your father.
To ask a very loaded question.
Your dad's Alzheimer’s had progressively gotten worse, especially over the past year. You barely even recognized him anymore. His mood swings and the hurtful things he said to you…
It was a lot, and so very difficult. But you knew it wasn't really him saying those things. He was barely him most of the time anymore, and it was heart-breaking to watch–especially as a daddy's girl–the way someone you loved so much was diminishing more and more each day, right before your eyes.
"Uh," you hesitated, deflating when you realized Mike was all but ignoring you at this point anyway. "He's okay, thanks for asking."
"Huh?" Mike blinked up at you, then caught up to the conversation, smiling, "Yeah, of course! You know I'm here if you need anything, pip, anything at all."
You nodded before quickly darting from his office, your face warming as you imagined actually taking Mike up on his offer.
Expressing your need for him.
And maybe not the kind he was expecting, not at all.
Not from you.
Eyes going distant for a moment as you imagined him sweeping you up against him in his office, gently cupping your face with his big hands, staring into your eyes as he slowly inched closer, until his lips were hovering right over yours, until–
You startled as your office phone rang, feeling more warmth rush through you at your ridiculous fantasy.
Shaking your head at yourself, you pressed your cool hands to your hot cheeks before you answered the phone with much more pep in your voice than you actually felt.
"Oh, now I can run some errands before the post work rush," Amelia, your father's home caretaker, smiled at you, clapping in excitement as she rushed to gather her things.
Mike had made good on his promise to let you leave early after a pretty quiet work day, so you had stopped at the grocery store to grab a few things so you could make your father's favorite dinner before returning home.
You smiled as Amelia stopped before you, reaching out with her soft, weathered hand to cup your cheek. She was much older than you, almost as old as your father, but you would never know it because she had such youthful energy.
Over the past few years, she had become so much more than your father's caretaker, she had become a dear friend, and you appreciated her so much. You loved her like family.
"You sweet, beautiful girl," she cooed, tugging you close and pressing a kiss to your forehead. Her voice lowered as she glanced across the living room to where your father was sitting in his recliner, watching TV. "He had a pretty good day today, was more lucid than he's been in ages."
You brightened instantly, your smile growing hopeful as you glanced between Amelia and your dad. "Really?"
"Mmmhmm," she gave you a soft smile, patting your cheek before stepping away. "I'll see you tomorrow, love."
"Thanks, Amelia, have a nice evening."
You walked her to the door, giving her a final wave and smile before closing it behind you and turning toward your dad.
You moved closer, hovering beside his chair for a moment. Your father looked so frail these days. Sometimes it was hard to believe he used to be a big, strong biker, a Devil's Advocate.
Your hero.
Blinking back the moisture in your eyes, you smiled, "I'm gonna make your favorite for dinner, baked ziti, how's that sound?"
Your father blinked, slowly pulling his foggy gaze from the TV, his eyes lighting with warm recognition as he looked up at you. "Sounds good, honey. You take such good care of me."
He reached for you and you offered your hand, feeling a lump swell in your throat as he gently patted your hand between his with a sigh.
"You're such a good girl."
And then his eyes returned to the TV and glazed over once more.
Inhaling a shaky breath, you made your way into the kitchen and got started on dinner.
A few hours later, you were seated at the small dining table in the corner of the kitchen, picking at your dinner when your father suddenly slammed his glass down hard on the table.
"This isn't right!" he growled.
Startled, you glanced up from your plate and gaped at him, confused. "W-what–?"
"Can't even follow a simple recipe, huh? This isn't how your mother made it," your father sneered down at his plate before flipping it off the table and onto the floor.
"Daddy!" you gasped, leaning over in your chair to frown at the mess of pasta, cheese, and broken bits of ceramic now littering the kitchen tile.
"You can't do anything right!" your father gritted, heaving himself to his feet.
He planted his big hands on the table and leaned across it, until you were cowering in your seat and watching him with big, tear-filled eyes.
"I told you to carve your way into the inner fold, keep up my legacy with the club, but you're so damn worthless. You're invisible, to all of them."
It took you a moment to even follow his chaotic train of thought, from dinner to the Devil's Advocates. You processed his hurtful words, some of which were ones you had often thought to yourself, especially in those moments of suffocating loneliness when you had no one to talk to, no one to lean on as you struggled to buckle under the weight that had been thrust upon you.
"I-I'm not," you trembled at last. "They're my friends."
Your father's snort was derisive. "You don't have any friends, and we both know it. Pathetic."
You flinched at the insult–and the truth of it–watching as your father spared you one final sneer before shuffling from the kitchen. You heard the creak of his recliner as he took his preferred seat, and a moment later, the TV was blaring with some evening sports show.
Sniffling to yourself at the sudden, awful turn the night had taken, you slowly rose from your chair. You scraped your dinner into the trash bin before cleaning up the mess your father made.
Your hands trembled as you covered the baked ziti tray with some foil and stowed it in the fridge. You moved to the sink and did the dishes on autopilot for a few moments before you suddenly glanced up to the window over the sink.
You stared at your sad, teary reflection in the glass.
All alone.
Trapped in your childhood home with a warped, broken shadow of your father.
You wondered suddenly what Mike and the others were doing.
They were probably at Jo's, where they spent most nights together. Having dinner and drinks. Playing pool. Together. All of them. Like a family.
Without you.
Feeling your lower lip tremble, you sniffed back more tears, trying your best to focus on the dirty dishes that needed cleaning instead of feeling sorry for yourself.
No matter how much it was warranted.
You were just starting to wrap up your work day when the front door opened and Curtis filled the doorway of the office.
"Hey," he greeted you with a small smile, which grew bigger when his fiancée, Peaches, poked her head around his bicep and waved at you.
"Oh my god, I haven't seen you in a million years!" she grinned, stepping around Curtis to move toward you and sweep you up in a hug. "How are you?"
Overwhelmed by the sudden attention–and their unexpected arrival–you just smiled stupidly for a moment before you processed her question and gave a flustered response.
"Oh, I'm, I'm okay, thanks. Congrats on the engagement," your smile was more genuine now as Peaches flashed you her ring before giving a dreamy sigh.
"He did good, didn't he?"
"He did," you laughed, glancing over at Curtis who looked torn between embarrassed and soft as he watched Peaches with figurative hearts in his eyes.
And god, what you wouldn't give to have someone look at you like that.
A certain someone even…
Shaking yourself quickly, you glanced between the two of them with curiosity.
"So, what brings you by?" you asked, clicking into business mode despite the late hour.
"We just wanted to pass off some tax paperwork and receipts before I lose them," Curtis gave you a wry grin as he passed over a large, brown envelope.
"I'm whipping him and his business into shape," Peaches smiled proudly as she hugged Curtis' arm and shot him a wink.
Laughing, you stored the envelope in your desk drawer. "I'll go through and file everything tomorrow."
"Is Mike still around?" Curtis asked.
"Oh no," you shook his head. "He had an off site meeting and said he likely wouldn't be back before I closed up."
"He'll probably head straight to Jo's," Peaches hummed. Her eyes lit up as she glanced at you. "You should come, too!"
Your mouth actually dropped open at the invitation, even as your tummy swooped with excitement. "Me? Really?"
Peaches' smile softened. "Yeah, of course. You're always welcome, you know that."
Your wide gaze nervously shifted from her to Curtis, but his smile was just as soft as hers, his eyes just as warm.
"You should come," he confirmed. "Dinner will be my treat."
"Oh no, you don't have to," you immediately started to decline his kind offer, but Curtis waved away your words.
"It's a done deal."
"Yay!" Peaches was already bounding toward the door, but Curtis lingered, waiting for you to gather your things before he stepped closer.
Your brows furrowed as he pulled another envelope from his inner jacket pocket, this one smaller, white, and thick.
"Should I put that with your tax paperwork?" you asked.
"No, this is for you." Curtis handed over the envelope.
Confused, you peeked inside, eyes widening as you spied a stack of hundred dollar bills. "What…I–"
"I know things must be difficult with your father and the care he needs, so I…we," he corrected. "Just wanted to help."
"Curtis," your voice quavered with emotion as you kept your watery eyes on the envelope of cash, too embarrassed and overwhelmed to meet his gaze.
You didn't think any of them knew just how hard it was, how you had drained all of your savings for your father's care and to continue to pay his mortgage and living expenses on top of your own.
How the financial aspect of it wasn't even the worst part and how you would sell everything you had–even your soul–to make him better again if you could.
"I can't take this," you finally whispered, the idea of being a burden to anyone, to the DAs especially, making anxiety churn in your gut.
"You can and you will." Curtis' big hand came into your line of vision and he gently took the envelope from your shaking fingers before tucking it securely in your purse. "Hey."
You glanced up at him from beneath your lashes.
"You know you can ask for help when you need it, right?" he ducked his head, hands squeezing your shoulders as he gave you a serious–bordering on stern–look. "We take care of our own, you know that."
And the thought that Curtis, at least, thought of you as one of them–thought of you at all–made something warm and fond bloom in your chest, just for him.
You resisted the urge to hug him as you nodded instead, trembling out a quiet, "Yes, of course. Thank you." Sniffling, you laughed at yourself as you batted away a stray tear. "Thank you, Curtis, really."
He gave you a small smile, squeezing your shoulders one last time before the front door was swinging open again and Peaches gave you both the stink eye.
"Excuse me, but I am starving, and if you both don't get your asses into gear, I am leaving without you and eating both of your dinners in addition to mine."
Huffing a laugh, Curtis grinned at you. "She will, she's a bottomless pit when she's hangry."
"You love that about me," Peaches scoffed before shooting you a wink.
Laughing, you felt a stir of hope and comfort rise within you, especially when Curtis wrapped an arm around your shoulders, tugged you into his side in an almost hug, and led you from the office.
You took another sip of your cocktail, still on your first drink despite the way Peaches had been trying to get you drunk.
Your lips quirked at the corners as you set down your glass on the table and glanced across Jo's to where the rest of the group had gathered around the pool tables at the back.
Peaches and Andy's girl were playing their significant others in a game of pool as Mike and Jensen watched. The banter between them all flowed so effortlessly, even with Andy's girl, who was the newest to the group but seemed much further enmeshed in the inner circle of the Devil's Advocates than you.
You thought of how you had stuttered out responses during dinner as you caught up with the others, overthinking every reply before you gave it and so very flustered under the attention of the group.
But still, you were here, with them, included at last, just like you had always wished for, so you tried your best to focus on gratitude rather than overanalyzing every little thing.
Rather than being sad that they had all wandered away, as if they had forgotten your presence altogether.
The front door opened, and a towering figure stepped inside, breaking you from your train of thought as your eyes were instantly drawn to him from where you were hidden away by yourself in one of the larger booths against the far wall.
He was big, and thick, his shoulders broad and testing the seams of his worn denim button up. His jeans were dark and fit him like a glove, causing your gaze to dip to the prominent curve of his ass without your permission, before darting back up.
The stranger was painfully handsome, giving all of the DAs a run for their money in the looks department. His skin was golden, his hair brown and curling around the collar of his shirt, perfectly matching his thick, neatly kept beard. And his eyes–two deep pools of dark blue–were fixed right on you.
Your own gaze widened at being caught ogling, and just before your eyes dipped to the table top, your cheeks already on fire, you got a glimpse of the beautiful stranger shooting you a wink and a sinful grin before he was sauntering further into the bar.
You only dared to glance up again when you heard Mike whoop his delight, greeting the brunette with a big grin and one of those guy hugs that was more slapping each other on the back than an actual embrace.
"Guys, this is Ari, my buddy from NA that I mentioned…" was all you could decipher before Ari was welcomed into the fold and handed a cue stick as Mike ushered him over to the unoccupied pool table in the back.
You startled as your phone buzzed from within the dark confines of your purse, fishing it out to read Amelia's reply to your earlier text thanking her for staying later than usual with your father so that you could enjoy a night out.
Of course, honey, you enjoy yourself, for once. You deserve it.
Smiling, you tucked your phone away, head shooting up as you heard Mike call your name. Perking up, you quickly slid from the booth before hesitantly making your way over, trying not to appear too eager or pleased with his attention at last.
"Hi," you greeted him softly, your eyes flickering across the pool table to Ari.
He was grinning at you as he leaned over the pool table, lining up his shot. He took a moment to allow his eyes to dip from your face, over the rest of you, blatantly checking you out and chuckling quietly as you immediately began to fidget and your gaze darted away.
Part of you wished you had worn something better than your simple shirt dress and flats today, and you wrung your hands together before you, dazedly returning your attention to Mike as he moved closer to you. He smelled so good and was so warm, you had to resist leaning into his personal space as he began to talk.
"Hey, pip, do me a favor and go get us a fresh round of beers," he requested, fishing some money from his back pocket and shoving it into your hands, not bothering to wait for your response before he was circling the pool table to take his turn.
Your smile dimmed as you realized he had called you over to assist him, just like you did at work all day, instead of engaging you like the others, like you were a real friend.
"Sure," you murmured, swallowing down your disappointment as you turned on your heel and made your way to the bar.
"Hey, sweetie, are you having a good time?" Jo greeted you with a warm smile as she stopped before you on the other side of the perfectly polished wood counter.
You mustered a genuine smile for her, nodding your head before ordering beers for Mike, Ari, and Jensen. You climbed up into one of the empty stools to patiently wait for their drinks, unable to help it as you spun in your seat to glance over at the gang.
You froze as you watched Mike step away from the others for a moment, overly nonchalant as he dug his hand into his pants pocket as he approached his jacket. You saw him fiddle with something and then felt the acidic burn of bile at the back of your throat when you caught sight of the small baggie of white powder in Mike’s hand. He slipped it into his inner jacket pocket, and as he turned back to the others, you quickly looked away, not wanting to be caught staring.
Witnessing.
Sickness washed over you, roiling deep in your gut at the realization that Mike was using again. After everything.
After almost dying.
And just like before, you had no idea. You probably spent more time with him than anyone, shut away together in the office all day, and still, you hadn't realized.
How could you not have realized?
Again.
"You Mike's girl?"
You jerked at the unfamiliar husky voice, straightening in your stool as Ari pulled up beside you and leaned against the bar so close that you could feel his body heat rolling off of him in waves.
It took you a moment to register his words, so startled were you by his sudden appearance and proximity. Once you did, your eyes widened before your gaze dropped down to your lap and you twisted your fingers together.
"Me!? Oh gosh, no, I'm just…he's…we're just…friends," you muttered, peeking up at Ari because it was hard to keep your gaze away from him.
He was so beautiful, especially up close.
His eyes twinkled at you as he gave you another leisurely onceover, grinning as you squirmed in your seat in response. "Well, maybe we can become friends, too, sweetheart."
Your belly swooped at the pet name and the way it was spoken in that deep timbre of his, and you could feel a wave of heat warm your cheeks as you fumbled for something to say.
Because you had never been hit on by someone that looked like him before, and you spent half the night by yourself as the rest of the group had a good time–without you–and it was nice to have someone to talk to, even if you didn't quite know what to say to seem interesting.
"We uh work together, too," you managed at last, meeting Ari's attentive gaze for a quick beat before you were looking away again. "Grew up together, my dad was a DA like his and the others’ so…"
"So I bet you know a lot of insider information, huh?"
Despite the teasing lilt to Ari's voice, there was something that flashed in his gaze, something intense that you couldn't quite place, but it had you squirming in your seat again as you frowned and shrugged, unsure of how to respond.
Because the truth was, you really weren't an insider at all, despite how much you longed to be, but that wasn't exactly something you wanted to admit, let alone chat about to a complete stranger.
Especially one who was showing what seemed to be genuine interest in you.
You glanced down the bar to where Jo was still filling other drink orders, nervously fiddling with the hem of your shirt dress as you glanced back at Ari, then froze, your eyes going big because he was so close now.
You couldn't suppress your squeak of surprise, and Ari's face lit up in delight at the sound as he laughed quietly at how flustered you were.
"You're real sweet, huh?" he hummed, shifting even closer, until he was so close that you could feel the warm wash of his breath against your face as he continued, "I like sweet. I could just eat you all up."
The nervous giggle was falling past your lips before you could stop it, your insides clenching hard–especially once you caught sight of the way Ari's teeth were sinking into his bottom lip as he eye fucked you–and then you were startling again as Jo chimed your name, arriving with the three beers you had ordered.
You immediately slid from your seat and gathered the beer bottles, then you turned and nearly walked right into Ari's chest, chirping in surprise before pulling up short.
"You need some help, sweetheart?" he purred, looming over you and making your core throb with that warm, playful tone of his.
"N-no, I'm good, thank you."
"Well, since one of those are for me," Ari plucked a beer from your hold, giving you a panty-melting grin as you just stared, noticing how much bigger his hands were than yours as he took a deep drink. "Thank you," he winked at you.
"You're welcome." You shot him a nervous smile before carefully stepping around him, getting a whiff of his musky scent before you were scurrying back to the others to deliver their drinks.
It wasn't long before you were back at the group's booth, all by yourself, but not minding too much as you were growing sleepy and eager to get home.
It also gave you the opportunity to watch Mike, and it didn’t take long at all before he was turning away from the others, making like he was drinking his beer, but you saw it, the way he shook two white pills loose from his pocket and knocked them back along with the rest of his drink.
Your stomach flipped, sourness filling the back of your throat as you watched Mike glance back at the others, as if to confirm he hadn’t been caught taking God knows what, before he was smiling and sauntering back over to the pool table.
You just…couldn’t believe him.
After everything, after nearly dying, he was using drugs again.
Tears welled quickly as you recalled that day, finding him in the office, toeing the line of death from his overdose.
Shaking your head as your stomach roiled in protest at this new discovery, you grabbed your purse and shimmied from the booth. Scurrying across the bar, you made your way down the dark, back hallway toward the restrooms. You ducked into the tiny restroom that was the size of a closet, shutting and locking the door behind you before turning toward the sink and small mirror that hung above it.
You looked as devastated as you felt, your lower lip wobbling as a few tears spilled over. Sniffing hard, you wiped them away, turning on the cold water and splashing some on your face before patting your skin dry with some scratchy paper towels from the dispenser.
You would just confront Mike in private, at work next week when it was just the two of you in the office. Maybe you had just misinterpreted everything. Yeah, perhaps you were just jumping to conclusions and being hyper-vigilant based on his history.
Mind made up, and your stomach feeling a little more settled, you quickly used the restroom and washed your hands before ducking back out into the hallway, intent on calling it a night.
You gasped as you collided with another. “I’m so sorry,” your words faltered as you looked up and met the dark, glittering gaze of Bryce Langley.
Trying not to grimace, you eased away from him, noticing the way his hands lingered on your arms. You didn’t know Bryce well, as he was the youngest of the DAs, even younger than you, but from the few stray occasions you had interacted with him, he made you uncomfortable.
Bryce was not a nice person despite the way he could turn on that charm of his to try to get what he wanted, and his ever-present cheshire smile did little to stop all the internal alarm bells from ringing in your head whenever he was in the vicinity.
Especially now, when you were alone with him and out of sight and earshot of anyone else.
“Um, sorry, Bryce.” You gave him a tentative smile as you tried to skirt around him. “Excuse me.”
Instead of allowing you to pass, Bryce shifted to block your retreat, leaning his shoulder against the wall and cornering you between him and the bathroom door as that slow, lazy smile of his unfurled across his lips.
"Haven't seen you around in a long time, pip,” he drawled. He was shameless in the way he gave you a long onceover, his tongue sneaking out to wet his lips as he purred, “And my oh my, you've certainly grown up, huh?"
All of your hair stood on end as he shifted closer, making you back into the wall as you instinctively recoiled from him, which was a mistake as you suddenly found yourself pinned to the paneled wood behind you as Bryce loomed close enough for his body to brush against yours.
"Oh, uh, yeah, I guess…" you quavered. You tried to hedge sideways, away from him, but Bryce’s hand shot out and planted against the wall, keeping you in place.
That same hand touched your hip next, drifting low enough to pluck at the hem of your shirt dress as Bryce hummed, "You know, I'm not sure why the buttoned up little secretary look is doing it for me, but it really is."
You tried to laugh, like his observation–his come on–was a joke, but the sound was anything but amused, more like you were choking on air as you jerked at the feel of Bryce’s fingers on your bare thigh. “Bryce–”
"Come on,” he cut you off, giving you that megawatt grin that just oozed charisma and wreaked of manipulation. “Let's sneak out back and have a little fun."
The alarm bells in your head rang louder as Bryce gripped your wrist and yanked you against him. His free hand circled your waist, skimming along the curve of your ass as he started to walk backwards toward the back exit across the hall, taking you with him.
"I um…that's not really–" you started, but once again Bryce spoke over you.
"I'm just dying to know what kind of sounds you make when you're stuffed full of cock." There was a mean and hungry tilt to Bryce’s smile now, his eyes so dark they looked black–and evil–as he pulled you toward the exit.
“No, please, I was just about to leave.” Your voice was higher pitched than usual, tinged with alarm–with fear–as you tried to shove Bryce away from you.
“You can leave when I’m done having some fun,” Bryce cooed. “Besides, you should feel honored that you're even getting a scrap of attention in the first place.”
You winced at his barb, and the truth of it, feeling a new wave of tears building behind your eyes. “I said no,” you raised your voice as you renewed your struggles, yelping when Bryce flung you around and slammed you into the metal back door hard enough to hurt.
Your purse fell to the floor, the contents of it scattering around your and Bryce’s feet as he held you to the door with one hand on your throat and used the other to grope your chest hard enough to make you whine.
“Maybe you just need to be warmed up–” he started, but then his words turned into a surprised grunt as he was violently yanked away from you.
You watched with wide eyes as Ari slammed Bryce into the opposite wall, his big hand circling the younger man’s neck and squeezing hard enough to make Bryce’s eyes bulge and his face turn beet red as he clawed at Ari’s hand.
“I catch you touching her again, hell, I catch you so much as looking at her, and I will fucking end you, you piece of shit, do you understand?” Ari snarled close to Bryce’s face.
His hand squeezed harder, giving Bryce a rough shake to drive his point home. Looking almost purple now, Bryce nodded as best as he could, wheezing and coughing for breath when Ari’s hand finally fell away from his throat.
Shaking in your spot a few feet away, you watched as Bryce hunched over and coughed and gasped for breath, Ari standing over him with a look so dark, it had you cowering when he turned your way.
His features immediately softened, his brow furrowing with concern as he murmured, “You okay, sweetheart?”
You nodded, giving Bryce one last glance as he staggered down the hallway and out of sight. Your relief at his departure–and at Ari’s appearance–was a visceral thing, and you sagged against the door, touching a hand to your chest and feeling the way your heart was still hammering away as it processed the last dregs of your fear and the adrenaline that came along with it.
“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Ari asked, his gaze fretful as it glanced over you.
“No, I’m okay. Thank you.”
You watched as Ari crouched at your feet and began to gather your possessions, carefully putting them back in your purse. You sank to the floor to help, feeling embarrassed for some reason and avoiding looking at him as you reached for your compact and lip gloss.
When you went to return them to your purse, you froze as you caught sight of Ari’s big hand holding the envelope of money Curtis had given you earlier.
“This is a lot of cash to be carrying around,” Ari told you. His eyes were shining with curiosity, and a new wave of worry, as you met his gaze.
“Yeah, I don’t usually, it was…unexpected.” For some reason, you felt like you owed him an explanation, so you babbled, “It was…a gift? From Curtis, and the others I guess.” You gently took the envelope and safely tucked it into the inner pocket of your purse. “My dad, he’s sick, and I’ve been taking care of him, and things are just…a little hard, you know? And expensive, everything’s so expensive, so…”
More tears burned at the back of your eyes, everything finally catching up with you at once and warring with the deep-seated exhaustion you were always so good at ignoring for the sake of everyone who relied on you.
“So every little bit helps,” you tried to chirp, sniffling and mustering a small smile as Ari placed the last item back in your purse.
“I’m real sorry to hear about your father.” He truly looked it as he met your gaze. “It’s a good thing what you’re doing, taking care of him, but I’m sure it can’t be easy.”
“I make do,” you said as you rose to your feet.
Ari did the same, making you feel tiny in comparison as he stood before you. "I…I think it's time for me to go. I’m really tired.”
"Did you drive here?” Ari asked. When you nodded, he offered, “I'll walk you to your car.”
"Oh no, you don't have to,” you were quick to assure him, to avoid being an inconvenience.
"I want to,” he gave you a small smile, gesturing toward the other end of the hallway. “You wanna say goodnight to the others first?"
The others who were busy enjoying the company of each other while ignoring you for most of the night.
The familiar hurt of always being on the outside looking in, always being left out, of being so forgettable, gnawed at you now more than usual after what had just happened, but you tried to stuff it down, down, down.
You were here at least, and that was something.
You should be grateful.
You would be grateful.
"Uh, no,” you smiled, shrugging like it was no big deal. “I don't want to bother them. It's fine."
Ari watched you for a beat, quiet as he observed you, his eyes shining with knowing and making more humiliation rise up as you curled your shoulders and hugged yourself tightly.
Could he tell, just by looking at you, how pathetic you were?
“Alright, let’s get you home then,” he eventually murmured.
You nodded, grateful as Ari motioned you past him but stuck close as you made your way toward the front exit of Jo’s and outside into the cool evening air. Your old-but-miraculously-well-operating car was tucked away at the end of the small dirt parking lot, and you stood beside the driver’s door now as you glanced up at Ari.
Your smile was much more genuine as you told him, "Thank you, for handling Bryce. He can be kind of…"
"A dick?" Ari supplied.
You laughed, a real laugh, your belly fluttering as Ari grinned in delight at the sweet sound, his eyes looking warm as he watched you.
"I was going to say ‘a lot,’ but yes also that,” you said.
The two of you just stood there for a moment, and as shy as you were–as you felt–you couldn’t help but sneak peeks at Ari every couple of seconds because he really was beautiful.
Something about the pure size of him, how big and thick he was, especially compared to you, had butterflies rising in your stomach and invading your chest. Had something warm and wanting sparking to life deep inside of you for the first time in a long time.
Your cheeks burned when your eyes met Ari’s and found an amused kind of knowing there, like he not only knew exactly what you were thinking and feeling but enjoyed your admiration.
It struck you quite suddenly, that as much as you liked Mike, loved him and always would, you hadn’t actually felt it–this way–about him in quite some time.
But here you were now, painfully and instantly attracted to Ari despite having just met him, and you thought–and maybe hoped more than that–that he was attracted to you too, just a little.
At the very least, he seemed to notice you when no one else did–you weren’t invisible to him–and that was something at least, and enough to make excitement bloom within you, hope, too.
"Well, you have a good night, sweetheart,” he husked. His gaze flickered down to your mouth for a beat, making your belly do a wild kind of somersault, but then he was tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans and taking a step back.
"Yeah, you too,” you wisped, shooting him one final smile before unlocking your car door and slipping inside. Once you started the engine and rolled the window down, you whispered, “Goodnight, Ari,” your greedy gaze lingering on his handsome face before putting your car in reverse.
As you eased out of your parking spot, you heard Ari’s faint, "Goodnight, sweetheart,” and you couldn’t help but steal a few more glances of him in the rearview mirror as you started your drive home.
You were jittery with nerves as you sat at your desk, the work day almost over.
You had spent most of the weekend trying to reaffirm to yourself that it was the right thing to do - confront Mike about what you had seen, make sure he was okay.
He was your friend and you cared about him. You loved him.
And good friends took care of each other.
Nodding to yourself, you quickly closed out of the remaining apps and your work email on your computer. Your belly turned topsy-turvy with another bout of anxiety just as you rose to your feet.
At the same moment, the front door to the office swung open, and there stood Ari, looking just as strikingly handsome as the first time you had seen him a few nights ago.
Today, he wore another pair of faded jeans that fit him like a second skin, emphasizing the thick muscles of his thighs. His plain white t-shirt clung to his broad chest, doing little to hide the firm muscles that lay beneath, let alone his bulging biceps that were testing the white cotton for all it was worth.
“You okay, sweetheart?”
Ari’s concerned voice snapped you back to reality, and your face flamed in mortification as you realized that you had been full on ogling him and got caught doing so, again.
“Huh?” you replied dumbly.
Ari’s dark blue eyes sparkled at you as he sauntered closer, until he was looming on the other side of your desk.
“I asked how you were doing and you were like a sweet little space cadet, total blank stare and everything.”
“I’m sorry,” you breathed, trying to stomp down another wave of embarrassment as your gaze dropped and you started to ramble to try to come up with an excuse for your behavior. “I’m just tired, it was a rough night with my father last night, and I guess it’s caught up to me, so…yeah.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
The sadness in Ari’s voice made you feel even worse, so you tried your best to deliver a bright smile as you waved away your depressing overshare. “It’s okay! Um, are you a new accounting client of Mike’s or–”
“No, he’s here to meet me,” Mike answered your unfinished question as he emerged from his office, looking ready to leave for the day.
“We were gonna head over to Jo’s for some dinner and pool,” Ari explained. “You should come with us.”
“I should?” you replied at the same time Mike asked, “She should?”
Ari shot him a disappointed frown that had Mike clearing his throat and shooting you an abashed grin.
“Yeah, you totally should, pip. You’re always welcome to tag along.”
You flinched at “tag along,” your face warming once again as your eyes dropped to stare at the top of your desk.
“I’d really like you to come with us,” Ari told you.
You blinked in surprise to find him standing right beside you now, throwing off an intense body heat and a faint woodsy scent that had your nipples pebbling beneath your blouse and your thighs pressing together beneath your skirt.
You had never responded so viscerally to someone before, and it was throwing you for a loop so much, making it difficult to think straight, let alone string together an actual sentence, but you managed as much as you could.
“I don’t want to impose,” you whispered.
“You’re not, I invited you,” Ari’s smile was more of a pleading pout. “Come on, sweetheart, you deserve a little fun and to unwind after a long day, too.”
It was so funny, because Amelia, your father’s home caretaker, had told you something similar this morning before you left for work.
“I’m here to lighten your load so you can live life a little, too, honey,” she said. “Let me help you; you don’t need to do this all on your own.”
“Okay,” you answered hesitantly, your eyes flickering to Mike, who was busy texting on his phone and not paying attention to your and Ari’s conversation in the least. Your gaze shifted to Ari’s. “If you’re sure?”
“Very sure,” he winked at you. “Let’s go have some fun.”
Belly fluttering at the way he was watching you–with so much warmth and hope that you’d never had aimed your way before–you could only smile like a dope, quickly gathering your things and trying not to swoon too much when Ari ushered you outside and walked you to your car.
A little while later, your belly was full from a good meal, and maybe a drink or two, and you were bent over one of the pool table’s at the back of Jo’s, your tongue sticking out in concentration and one of your eyes closed to try to improve your aim as you clumsily lined up your shot.
You were never very good at pool, but it was still fun to play. Luckily, Ari seemed to have the patience of a saint and didn’t mind playing you once Mike had wandered off to hang out with Jensen and Andy instead.
Pulling your cue stick back, you let it surge forward, pouting as the tip of it glanced off the cue ball before sending it weakly spinning aside, and nowhere near one of your striped balls.
“I’m so bad at this,” you muttered, your cheeks burning as you took a step back and stumbled into Ari.
His hands caught your flailing self by the arms, steadying you on your feet and grinning down at you as you stared up at him with big eyes and parted lips.
Because you hadn’t realized that he had been standing so close, and right behind you.
“Can I give you a few pointers?” he asked, nodding at the pool table.
“That would be very nice. Probably pointless, because I’m hopeless at this, but still very much appreciated.”
“You’re funny,” Ari hummed, his voice a husky rumble as his eyes danced at you.
“Not often, I guess you just bring it out in me. Also maybe the alcohol helped.”
He laughed. “Well, I’ll be sure to keep that in mind for next time.”
“Next time?” you asked in surprise. “You’d want to hang out with me again?”
Ari’s smile dimmed, a furrow forming between his brows as he ducked lower and told you, “I would. You’re not just a tag along to me.”
It was instant, the way your belly fluttered and bloomed with joy. Your breath hitched as you hugged your pool cue to your chest and blinked back a surge of happy tears at the thought that someone wanted to spend time with you, by choice, and just because.
“Come on, let me show you how to take a shot that actually progresses the game,” Ari teased.
You giggled as he winked at you, all too happy to have him lead you back to the pool table and give you some tips to help improve your game.
And it actually helped! Within a few minutes, you could actually hit the other balls, and you even pocketed a few before accidentally doing the same to the eight ball and instantly losing.
Ari just shot you a grin and a, “Maybe next time,” instead of teasing you mercilessly like the others would have. Then he insisted on getting you another drink before he sauntered over to the bar and you stared after him and enjoyed the view.
You couldn’t stop smiling as you watched him, as he glanced back over at you as he waited for your drinks and shot you another flirtatious wink. Your belly swooped as you turned away, resisting the urge to cup your face between your hands and squee.
So caught up in your exchange with Ari–at happily being under his undivided attention–you nearly walked right into Mike.
“Whoa, watch it, pipsqueak,” he huffed.
“Oh, sorry!” you quickly apologized.
Mike just hmphed, looking irritable as he moved past you and toward his jacket, which was draped over the stool in the corner near the pool table. You watched him without trying to be obvious, your anxiety from earlier beginning to lap at you as Mike dug through his jacket pockets.
You caught a glimpse of a small plastic bag filled with white powder, and then he was pocketing it and hurrying toward the restroom and out of sight.
Stomach instantly sinking, you stared after him, dread and disappointment washing over you, because you knew. You just knew that he was going into the bathroom to snort whatever was in that baggie.
The confirmation of one of your worst fears coming to fruition–Mike using again, potentially overdosing again, maybe dying this time–and the devastation that came along with it–hit you like a freight train.
It was so sudden, the way you couldn’t quite catch your breath, your eyes blurring with tears as you touched your chest, and then clawed at it as your heart rate skyrocketed and felt like it would beat right through your chest.
You just needed a moment to calm down, you kept telling yourself as you dropped your pool cue on the table and staggered down the back hall, hastily pushing through the back door.
You teetered on your feet for a beat, stumbling a few yards away from the exit as the constriction in your chest grew more noticeable–more scary–slowly crawling its way higher like some creeping dangerous thing, until it felt like there was something lodged in your throat and you truly couldn’t breathe.
You whimpered as the tightness in your chest began to overwhelm you. It was like there was no air to breathe as you sagged against the wall, clawing at your chest as you sank down into a crouch, quiet, choked sounds of fear spilling from your lips.
Dizziness swept over you as the sound of your slamming heart thundered loudly–deafeningly–in your ears, drowning out everything else around you.
Just as blackness began to dance on the periphery of your vision and had you squeezing your eyes shut to avoid it, just as you thought that you really were going to pass out, warm hands gripped your shoulders and a deep voice called your name.
You blinked your tear-filled eyes open to find Ari crouched in front of you. His handsome face was twisted in concern as he reached for your hand and pressed it to his chest.
“Breathe with me, sweetheart,” he encouraged. “Deep breath in,” he inhaled deeply, slowly, before exhaling just as slowly.
You focused on the way his chest expanded and contracted beneath your palm. The way a silver chain peeked out from the collar of his shirt. Then, at last, you focused on the warm, hard mass of him, mesmerized as you unconsciously began to mirror Ari’s slow, calm breathing pattern.
After a couple of moments, the real world flooded back into focus, your heart beat returned to normal, and you could fill your lungs with ease once more.
You whimpered, collapsing onto the ground as a few tears slipped down your cheeks. You pulled your knees to your chest, pressing your forehead to them as you curled in on yourself, terrified by what had just happened and mortified that Ari, of all people, had been there to witness it.
“Hey, you’re okay, sweetheart.” Ari smoothed a hand over your head. “You’re okay now.”
“I’m sorry,” you wobbled, sniffling back more tears. “I don’t know what happened.”
“Looks like you had a panic attack.”
You were shaking your head before you even processed Ari’s observation. “But I don’t…have those.”
“Did something happen?” he asked, his eyes flickering between yours. “While I went to get our drinks?”
You thought of Mike pocketing the white powder then hurrying off to the bathroom, your stomach flipping unpleasantly as you swallowed against the burn in the back of your throat.
You should say something, right? You should tell someone, shouldn’t you?
But Mike had met Ari through Narcotics Anonymous, so that meant Ari was probably a recovering addict himself. What if this triggered Ari or upset him?
So maybe you should tell one of the others then? Curtis or Andy? But wouldn’t that be betraying Mike?
He would hate you forever if you ratted him out. Maybe even fire you.
Because when it came to the DAs, the only thing worse than being invisible was being a rat.
You were in a lose, lose situation, and you didn’t know what to do. You felt so sad and scared and overwhelmed, and it just consumed you entirely as your panicked mind spiraled deeper and deeper.
“Hey, don’t cry, you’re okay now,” Ari soothed as you choked on a sob. He reached for you, gently rubbing your arm and giving your shoulder a squeeze on every ascent.
“I’m sorry,” you whined, covering your face. “I’m sorry.”
“C’mere, honey,” Ari said, gently tugging you against his chest and into a very firm embrace that felt like safety incarnate.
His hands were slow and gentle as they smoothed up and down your back, and he shushed you softly as you wept against his chest, not easing up on his embrace until your crying had faded to sniffles and you finally straightened and pulled away.
“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, wiping a few stray tears from your face. “I’m so embarrassed.”
“Don’t be embarrassed. Hey,” Ari gently gripped your chin and tipped your shy gaze up to his. “You have a lot on your plate, you don’t need to apologize for being overwhelmed or upset. Unfortunately, feelings are a part of being human. That’s what you get for not being a robot.”
Your giggle was watery as it spilled past your lips, and the dread in your belly eased when Ari gave you a big, warm smile.
“Come on, why don’t we call it a night and get you home?
You nodded, not resisting when Ari pulled you to your feet before him. The exhaustion hit you once you were standing on solid ground, your shoulders hunching beneath the weight of it.
“I’ll drive you home.”
“But my car’s here,” you started to object.
“Mike and I can drop it off at your place later tonight so you have it for work tomorrow, okay? We drove here together, so it’s not a problem at all,” Ari told you.
“But–”
“Please,” Ari interrupted you, gripping both of your shoulders and ducking his head so your gazes aligned. “Let me do this for you. Let me take care of you in this small way.”
And that nearly set you off all over again.
Because people didn’t take care of you. You took care of them. It’s what made you useful, of value, worth their time and attention on the rare occasions they gave it to you.
“Why?” you couldn’t help but ask him, your voice breaking on that one, simple word.
Ari’s face softened, more of that sad knowing shadowing his gaze as he watched you. “Because I want to, and you deserve it.”
You glanced away from him as your eyes filled with a fresh wave of tears, biting on your bottom lip to quell its trembling as you tried to rein in all of the big feelings stirring within you.
“Come on,” Ari murmured.
You didn’t object as he curled his arm around you, pulling you into his side as he led you down the alley and across the parking lot. In fact, you sank against Ari more fully, greedily absorbing his warmth, and his comfort, too tired to do more than follow where he wanted you to go as he urged you past your car and to his own instead.
“Hey.”
You startled, your eyes wide and your heart racing as you pulled your gaze away from the spreadsheet you had been so diligently working on to find Ari towering over your workspace.
“Hi,” you managed, feeling an embarrassed kind of heat wash over you.
Because the last time you had seen Ari had been a few nights ago, after your unexpected panic attack.
“I’ve been thinking about you,” he murmured as he circled your desk and sat on the corner of it.
“You have?”
His lips tilted into an amused smile at your obvious surprise. “I have. How are you feeling?”
“Better,” you answered, your gaze falling away shyly as you squirmed in your seat.
What did you say to someone who had seen you in such a vulnerable state?
Someone that you liked so much even if a small part of you thought that you shouldn’t.
Things like drugs and crime had been on the periphery of your life as long as you could remember, but it came with the territory of your dad having been a Devil’s Advocate, and now working for Mike, Andy, and Curtis.
Still, you were pretty far removed from all of that, so the idea that Ari was likely a former addict made you nervous.
You didn’t think any less of him–or Mike, for that matter–but you were definitely outside of your depth when it came to that kind of stuff, and well, you just couldn’t help but wonder if maybe you shouldn’t like him so much?
If maybe he was even bad news, or potentially dangerous?
“You did it again, zoned out on me,” Ari huffed a quiet laugh. “I really gotta up my game if you find me so boring.”
“No!” You squeaked instantly, reaching for him and gently touching his hand without thinking. “You’re not boring at all! I’m so sorry–”
Ari’s big hand turned over beneath yours, his sudden, unexpected grip on you causing your words to taper off into a startled gasp.
“Stop. Apologizing,” he admonished, and there was a grit to his voice that made your insides clench hard, especially with the way his gaze was so focused on you, so intense.
“I’m sor–” you started, and then abruptly snapped your mouth shut.
Ari laughed again, gently playing with your hand, so gently, in fact, that it was kind of mesmerizing and making your body perk up and tremble with a kind of anticipation you had never experienced before.
“Um, were you looking for Mike?” you wisped. “He’s gone for the day, but if you want me to give him a message or something, I can.”
"Actually, I was looking for you."
"Me? Why?"
"Come out with me,” Ari said, his thumbs brushing along your knuckles. His gaze lifted from his touch to your wide eyes, and he smirked.
"Uh, what?"
“Why are you always so shocked that I want to spend time with you?” he asked.
The ever familiar heat of embarrassment was back as you squirmed in your seat, your shoulders hunching up to your ears as you shrugged. “I’m just not used to people seeking me out, recreationally, I guess.”
"Well, get used to it,” Ari replied, giving your hand a soft squeeze before releasing his hold on you and pouring himself to his feet. “Come on, I'll buy you dinner. I heard the diner’s good but I haven’t tried it yet. I'm new in town, and I don't really know anyone besides Mike, so, you’re kind of stuck with me and might as well get a meal out of it.”
You laughed, feeling shy once more under Ari’s attentive gaze.
And the fact that he genuinely wanted to spend time with you.
You.
“Okay,” you breathed, shutting down your computer and reaching for your purse. “Just let me text my father’s caretaker and let her know I’ll be a little later than usual.”
“Sounds good, and I’ll drive,” Ari offered. “So we can spend more time together on the way over. I can drop you back off here to get your car after dinner.”
“Sure,” you agreed easily, still smiling as you grabbed your things and tried not to combust from giddiness as Ari corralled you in front of him and ushered you outside.
“How’s your father doing?” Ari asked as you sat across from him in the diner booth enjoying your meal.
“Oh,” you covered your mouth as you finished chewing, waiting to swallow before continuing. “He’s doing okay, I guess. He has Alzheimer's, and it’s been getting progressively worse as it does. I think he may need to go into a care facility soon, but the thought just…guts me,” you whispered, “So I want to hold off on that as long as possible.”
“It sounds like a very sad situation. Are you and your father close?”
You took a sip of your drink before responding. “Yeah, I’m definitely a daddy’s girl,” you grinned, shrugging bashfully at Ari’s soft smile. “My mom passed away when I was twelve, and it was just us against the world, you know? He always tried so hard to give me a good life, so the least I can do is return the favor now that he’s the one who needs looking out for.”
“You’re such a pleasant surprise,” Ari said.
You blinked at him, unsure if his words were a compliment or not.
He must have been able to easily read your uncertainty, because he chuckled. “In a good way,” he promised. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, Mike and the other DAs seem great, but I’ve never met someone so…pure in this kind of inner circle.”
“I’m not really part of their inner circle,” you confessed.
“I’m sure that’s not true,” Ari countered. “They seem fond of you. You work for them, spend time with them, your dad was an Advocate, I mean, you’re in the fold, sweetheart.”
Feeling suddenly uncomfortable at the topic of conversation, and how far off from the truth Ari was, you stared down at your plate, fiddling with one of your fries before picking it up. “I guess,” you murmured before taking a bite.
Once you were done with dinner and dessert, because Ari had insisted you deserved it, you found yourself back in his car, enjoying his quiet company as you started the drive back to your own car.
You were enjoying the quiet alongside Ari so much that it took you a few moments to realize he was driving in the opposite direction of the office and where your car was parked.
“Oh, I think you got a little turned around,” you said as you perked up in your seat. “You’ll want to go back the other way to get back to the office.”
“I know exactly where we are,” he shot you an easy grin. “Just thought we could enjoy a drive for a bit, spend a little more time together before you head home.”
“Oh,” you sank back against your seat, your belly fluttering as you tried not to smile too big at the fact that Ari wanted to spend even more time with you. “Okay.”
A few minutes later, he pulled into the empty parking lot facing one of Newton’s public parks. It was desolate this time of day, and you couldn’t help it as your nerves kicked up as you sat in the dark car beside Ari, just the dim light from a nearby streetlamp softly illuminating the area.
“You spacing out on me again?” Ari teased.
“No,” your gaze shot over to him, your cheeks warming at the sinful smile he was aiming your way. “I’m just…nervous.”
“Nervous?” Ari tutted, shrugging off his seatbelt and turning his big body toward yours. “Don’t be nervous.”
Your breath caught as he reached over and undid your seatbelt, leaning more in your personal space than was probably necessary as he gently guided the recoiling belt away from you and over your shoulder.
When his hand touched your face, fingers tickling beneath your chin to turn your eyes his way, you swore your heart stopped. And then it was kicking into high gear again and hammering away in your chest as you struggled to meet Ari’s penetrating stare.
“Is this okay?” he asked, trailing his knuckles along your warm cheek.
You nodded, words failing you entirely as Ari’s thumb dragged along your bottom lip and a quiet grunt at the softness of you caught in the back of his throat.
When his hand moved to cradle your cheek and hold you still for his approach, you sucked in one shaky inhale as your wide eyes met his before Ari’s lips were touching yours and your eyes fluttered shut.
He was so gentle as he kissed you. His lips soft and plush and warm as they pressed against your own. He tilted his head, knocking his nose against yours, and when you gasped in response–made a soft mewl of surprise–you could actually feel his grin before he was kissing you with more intensity this time around.
By the time Ari deepened the kiss, and his tongue swept into your mouth, you were pressing as close to him as possible with the center console between you. Your fingers curled into the denim of his button up as you relented to the very enthusiastic onslaught of his mouth and tried your best to keep up with every eager press of his lips, every sinful stroke of his tongue.
When he finally pulled away and allowed you to catch your breath, his big hand descended from your cheek to cup the side of your throat, his thumb brushing over the wild pulse fluttering just beneath the surface of your skin.
Then his hand descended lower still, his touch grazing your breast and making your breath hitch as he stopped to test the weight and feel of you. He groaned when you keened in response, leaning into his touch and not objecting once his hand was back to gently cradling your throat as the other snuck between your thighs.
Your glazed eyes met Ari’s as his fingers teased along the front of your panties, his lips curling into a roguish grin when you squirmed and rocked against his touch, spreading your legs wider for him.
"Ohhh, sweetheart, you're trouble,” he murmured, watching with a sinfully dark gaze that harbored a hint of pleasant surprise as you dropped a hand to his wrist and encouraged the pressure of his touch against your cunt.
“I’m not,” you denied, your free hand clinging to Ari’s shoulder as you subconsciously stared at his kiss-swollen mouth and licked your lips. “Please.”
You wanted to kiss him again, and again, for a good, long while. You wanted to memorize his taste on your tongue, and feel more of his warm, firm body beneath your touch. You wanted his fingers filling your cunt and making you cum until you couldn’t think straight, and then you wanted to bask in the feeling of being wanted, of being desired by another.
By him.
Your foggy mind was spiraling out at the very idea–and your need for more–so it took you a moment to absorb Ari’s next words.
"Yeah, you're a good girl, aren't you?” he cooed, giving the front of your panties a final caress before his hand retreated, and his grip on your throat grew firmer. “Which is why you're gonna tell me everything you know about the Devil’s Advocates, about Andy Barber and Curtis Everett, all of them. You're gonna be good for me and do exactly what I tell you to do."
When his words finally sank in, you recoiled from him as if you’d been slapped.
It actually felt like you had been, you were so jarred by what he said. By the way he was looking at you now with steely determination in his eyes, no warmth and amusement to be found. You felt fear spark inside of you and shuddered as a chill raced up your spine.
"What?” you blinked, your lashes fluttering as you pressed yourself against the passenger side door and stared at Ari, trying to determine if maybe he was joking? Was he just trying to be funny and it fell flat?
You tensed when he leaned closer, but all he did was reach past you, popping open the glove box. You struggled to swallow against the dryness in your throat when you caught sight of the black gun and the shiny, silver police badge beside it.
"You're a cop?" Your voice wobbled, tears blurring your vision and something inside of you wilting at the realization that this was why Ari had been paying you so much attention.
He wasn’t really interested in you, he didn’t care about you, he didn’t want you.
He was just trying to get information out of you, he was just using you, like everyone else.
"A detective, actually,” he said, not sounding apologetic in the least as he closed the glove box, leaned in close, and murmured, “You're willingly involved with a gang of criminals. I can't even count the number of accessory charges we can tack on your pretty little head. So, you’re gonna tell me everything you know, and you’re gonna start with the murders of Neal Loguidice and Robert Pronge from the East Street Gang.”
You shook your head, your mind still reeling and your brain struggling to process the turn your night had taken, how stupid you had been.
“Focus,” Ari gritted, giving you a little shake and aiming your cloudy gaze his way. “Tell me about Loguidice and Pronge. Who killed them? Were all the DAs involved? Was it premeditated? Was it Barber? Everett?”
The names Loguidice and Pronge didn’t ring any bells for you. All you knew about the East Street Gang was they were a rival gang of the DAs and they had taken Andy’s girl months ago and tried to hurt her. And the only reason you knew that was because you had accidentally overheard Mike on a phone call the night it had happened before he rushed out of the office without an explanation. Then Andy’s girl had gone off the grid for a while before only emerging with Andy and the others again a month or two ago.
Ari huffed your name, impatience coming off of him in waves, and it was so unlike how he had treated you up until now that you couldn’t help it as your chest hitched with a muffled sob and a few tears finally broke free.
"I-I don't know anything. I don’t know those names. They don’t tell me that kind of stuff, I just work for them and–"
"Bullshit,” Ari snarled, his grip on your throat tightening as he collared your neck and aimed your gaze at his. “You grew up with them. You see all their books. You're a fly on the wall and invisible to all of them, so you know much more than you think you do and you're gonna be cooperative, my eager-to-help confidential informant, or I'll make sure you rot in prison beside all of them.” He leaned closer, his nose nearly touching yours as he whispered, “And you won’t be able to take care of your father from there, sweetheart, so you better start talking.”
It was painful this time as the sob caught in your chest, more tears streaking down your cheeks as you met Ari’s hard gaze and trembled beneath his harsh touch.
You couldn’t believe what was happening, that he was threatening such horrible things, to take you away from your father, who needed you so desperately.
“Please…why are you doing this?”
“Because Loguidice wasn’t just a rival gang leader. He was my cousin’s fiancé, and she was fucking gutted over his murder and has been a shell of herself ever since. I owe it to her to solve this case and put violent scum like the DAs away for good.”
Distantly, despite your own shock and terror, you felt a pang of sympathy for Ari’s cousin and the loss she was dealing with, but it was shaken away when Ari gave you another rough jostle.
“So, you’re gonna sing like a fucking bird for me, or else.”
He leaned over once more, opening the glove gox and rifling through it, and something about the sight of his phone and watching him click into the voice recorder app–knowing his expectation of you talking and being a rat against the only family you had ever known–finally had your fight or flight instincts kicking in.
Reaching behind you, you yanked on the door handle, falling out of the car and hitting your ass on the ground hard before you scrambled to your feet and took off across the park for the nearby woods.
“Goddamnit,” you heard Ari hiss behind you, then the sound of his car door opening before his heavy footfalls sounded on the pavement, in hot pursuit.
You cleared the last swing set, your flats sliding along the overgrown grass as you gasped for breath and tried to ignore the stitch in your side as you ran. All you could think about was getting past the line of trees and to the entrance of the woods that could possibly give you cover because you knew them better than Ari from growing up in Newton, from playing in this very park, and tagging along with the DAs in these very woods.
A small sense of elation filled you once you cleared the tree line, and leaves and twigs crunched beneath your feet, and then you were tackled from behind and choked on a scream as you went down hard.
You were so discombobulated from the fall, from the adrenaline surging through your system, that you didn’t even fight him as Ari rolled you over onto your back and pinned your hands above your head.
His big body was heavy as it sank against your own, settling between your sprawled legs and trapping you beneath him as you stared up at him with wide, terrified eyes. He didn’t seem furious at your attempt to flee like you expected; he seemed almost…excited.
His handsome face had a pink flush to it, his eyes so dark they looked black, and his broad chest heaving as he stared down at you with a smirk curling his lips.
“Gotta give you credit, I didn’t think you’d actually try to run away from me, just like a sweet, scared little bunny, huh?” There was a husk to his laugh that had your cunt clenching, and shame filled you at your body’s reaction given your current circumstances and what he wanted from you.
"Please, I don't know anything and…” you swallowed, your words more truthful than defiant as you told him, “I wouldn't tell you even if I did. They’re my family.”
"Mmm, you're braver than I gave you credit for, too, bunny,” Ari sighed. “And more stubborn. I dunno why you're so eager to protect them when they could care less about you.”
He watched as you flinched at the truth of his words, taking no joy in saying them or their effect on you as you looked away from him as a few more tears streaked down your cheeks and you quietly sniffled.
“Maybe I went about this the wrong way,” he hummed, watching you thoughtfully as you squirmed beneath him. “Maybe threats and scare tactics aren’t what you need. It’s okay though, I can be persuasive in other ways.”
You gasped when Ari suddenly rutted against you, your stunned gaze shooting to him and drinking in the wolfish glitter in his eyes, the sinful satisfaction. “D-don’t,” you trembled, trying to shove away from him.
“Don’t try to play hard to get now, sweetheart, I know you want me,” Ari purred as he ducked close and nosed along your jaw. “If I didn’t come clean about being a cop back in the car, I would have had you riding me within minutes of showing you some soft attention.”
You shook your head, words to refute his claim failing you because you both knew he was right.
The pit of shame–of devastated disappointment–widened within you, and you couldn’t help it as you started to cry.
“I-I’m not like that, I thought you liked me,” you quavered.
“I do like you,” Ari cooed. He pressed a kiss to your tear-stained cheek. “Everything I said to you so far has been the truth. You are a pleasant surprise, and not who I was expecting to encounter at all when I went undercover for this case, which is why I want what’s best for you, and the DAs aren’t it.” Sighing, he shoved away from you, rising to his feet before bending to grab a hold of you and pull you up as well.
His hands were shameless and lingered as he gently swept the dirt and leaves from your clothes. He framed your face between his hands, holding you and your gaze captive as he watched you for a long moment.
“I think I have an idea of how to make you cooperate–”
“I won’t,” you whispered, trying to recoil from his hold.
“We’ll see,” Ari countered. He tugged you close, pressing a kiss to your forehead, his gentleness belying the looming threat of who he was and what he wanted from you. His lips tilted into an almost smirk when you stilled and didn’t try to push him away. “But we’ll save that for another day. For now, let's get you home, bunny,” he hummed, smoothing a big hand over your head before corralling you close and leading you out of the woods.
“You’re gonna keep this between us,” Ari spoke sternly as you reached his car. Turning you to face him, he pressed you back against the passenger side of the vehicle. “If I find out you made a peep and blew my cover, I’ll have Weiss locked up so quickly, your head will spin, got it?”
All you could do was nod, hugging yourself tightly as you sniffed back more tears, your mind whirling out of control and your body exhausted from everything that had happened tonight.
How quickly, and thoroughly your life had unraveled.
That the DAs were in serious danger.
And the fact that Ari was behind it all.
He snapped your name, and you blinked back to reality, glancing up at him in question from beneath your lashes.
“Say it, that you understand, that you’ll keep your mouth shut.”
“I understand,” you whispered, more tears gathering as you promised, “I won’t tell anyone.”
A glimmer of that familiar soft warmth sparked to life in Ari’s gaze as he watched you surrender to him in this small way.
“Good girl,” he purred, eyes twinkling as you shivered at his words, at his praise.
Then he turned you toward the car, and gave your ass a gentle pat of encouragement, watching in satisfaction as you hopped to and slipped back into his vehicle without any resistance at all.
AHHHHHHHH, YOU GUYS. I AM SO LAIWJEFOIFJWOEIFJ OVER THIS. THIS STORY HAS BEEN LIVING RENT FREE IN MY MIND FOR YEARS AND I AM SO SO HAPPY IT IS FINALLY COMING TO LIFE AND SEEING THE LIGHT OF DAY.
PLEASE OH PLEASE TAKE A MOMENT TO DROP ME YOUR FEEDBACK, REACTIONS, ETC. I NEED TO SPIRAL ABOUT THIS LIKE YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW LOL. ❤️
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👀unhinged just like I like my fictional men
Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.
Series Masterlist | Part 2
Chapter Summary: You encounter an unexpected visitor in your home.
Chapter Word Count: Over 2.8k
Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, breaking and entering, stalking, coercion, threats (not against reader), creepy and unhinged behavior, flashback, possessiveness, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.
A/N: Welcome to the Turn It Up AU! Thanks to @starlightcrystalline for helping bringing this unhinged Bucky to life and @targaryenvampireslayer and @tavners for the support. Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
You yawned as you flipped on the light switch in your apartment and set the keys on the table. It was early, but you were ready to settle in for the night after a busy shift. Maybe you could make a cup of tea and curl up with a book to unwind after dinner. Or maybe even a nice, hot bath and a glass of wine.
If only Addison could hear your thoughts now. She’d tease you for not living it up and enjoying the single life. Nothing new.
Your mouth fell open as you walked into the living room, but no sound came out as you skidded to a stop. Your heart nearly burst out of your chest and plummeted to your stomach at the same time as your phone fell from your hand. It was like you couldn't breathe. Because a man was sitting on your sofa.
And you lived alone.
“What…” you exhaled, no louder than a whisper.
The man didn't speak as he stared at you. He didn't even blink. The staring contest gave you a moment to take in his appearance. Intimidating even though he was sitting, his dark suit looked tailored to perfection on his broad frame. Dark brown hair framed his face and matched the stubble on his face, with the exception of a few gray hairs. The dangerous glint in his hard blue eyes did little to put you at ease, but there was something soft there as well.
In any other circumstance, you would've said he was handsome.
You bent down to pick up your phone before he let out a tsk, a subtle warning for you not to try anything. “Who are you? Why are you in my home?” You asked as you straightened up, hoping your tone didn't betray how terrified you were.
Nothing looked out of place. If he was there to rob you, there wasn't much worth taking. While you weren't struggling, you were far from rich.
He smirked and leaned back further into the cushion, his eyes roving over your body. You hadn't noticed right away, but the hand draped on the back of the sofa appeared to be metal. Or was it a glove? He didn't have to stand for you to know he was larger than you. If things got physical, you wouldn't stand a chance.
“Okay…” If he wasn't going to give you any sort of answer or clue as to who he was or why he was there, you’d just leave. You could go to a neighbor’s place or Addison’s to call the cops. But he didn't seem to like it when you took a step back since he pinned you with a glare and crooked his finger, beckoning you to go to him.
Your legs wobbled with the first step, but you righted yourself as you continued to move forward. If he noticed your misstep, he didn't acknowledge it. You swallowed, worried that bile would rise to your throat from how sick you felt when you stopped in front of him. That feeling only grew when he leaned in to grip your waist and roughly pulled you toward him.
A scream escaped this time around, but his hand clamped over your mouth to smother the sound. The cold fear that trickled down your spine would stick with you for days to come as he pulled you onto his lap and shook his head with another tsk. There was no mistaking the evident lust in his gaze as his eyes bore into yours.
What was he going to do to you?
You put your hands on his shoulders to push yourself away, but the hand on your hip held you tighter. You squirmed in his lap before you brushed against the outline of his cock, your body stiffening when he let out a low groan. With wide eyes, you decided moving wasn't a wise decision.
“Keep moving your hips if you want, but don't scream again,” he warned, his deep voice rumbling from his chest as you breathed through your nose. “There’s time for that later.”
Blood rushed to your ears as your heart pounded faster. You wished you could've stopped the tears from filling your eyes, but you weren't that strong. Was he going to hurt you? Kill you? If so, why?
The brunette cooed as a tear slid down your cheek. “I’m not going to hurt you, okay? But I will gag you if I remove my hand and you scream again,” he promised, his tone lighter than a moment ago. “Blink once if you promise not to scream.”
You blinked, another tear falling from your eye.
A pleased look crossed his face when he removed his hand and you complied. “Good girl,” he whispered and you ignored the new kind of shiver that rolled down your spine. “I didn't mean to startle you, but I couldn't wait any longer to see you.”
You exhaled as he used his thumb to wipe the tears away, your body still stiff as you focused on trying to stay calm. Couldn't wait to see you? You had never seen this man before in your life. “Who are you and what do you want?”
“My name is Bucky Barnes. And don't worry. I already know your name.” He smirked as he rested his hand on your cheek. You managed not to flinch at his calloused touch. “Did you have fun at my club?”
Confusion flickered in your gaze. “What?”
“My club, The 107th. I own it. Did you have fun?” He asked again, looking at you expectantly.
The 107th was the most luxurious and expensive nightclub in the city. Chic and glamorous in design with a friendly staff who waited on people hand and foot, you felt like royalty as you hung out in the VIP section. The upscale venue wasn't one you frequented often. In fact, you had only been once.
For Addison’s bachelorette party.
“Y-Yeah,” you replied, still confused as to what he wanted. “It’s a nice club.”
He hummed, his thumb brushing across your trembling lip. “I’m glad to hear it, but you didn't seem to have as much ‘fun’ as your friends. Did you?”
You nursed your drink as you gazed out at the dancefloor from your seat. The place was packed, the strobe lights flashing over the crowd in various hues as they grinded to the beat. You adjusted the hem of your short black dress as you debated going out to dance. You decided against it since you weren't looking to hook up.
“Come on! Another shot!” Addison yelled, adjusting her tiara on her head. She was lucky the “bride to be” sash was still on straight. “Shot, shot, sh-sh-sh-shot!”
You giggled as she plopped down beside you. “I did a shot. I'm fine,” you hollered back.
Your best friend grumbled something you couldn't make out as she put her head on your shoulder. “But you aren't even driving.”
“I don't want to deal with a hangover tomorrow,” you argued, thanking the server as she brought another bottle.
“Ugh. If you won't drink, at least get laid,” Addison whined a little. “You're wearing a slutty black dress and everything.”
You looked around at the group. Addison was the only one in white since she was the bride. Everyone else wore black. They looked great, but you weren't dressed to get any sort of attention.
“Yeah! Get fucked!” Dana shouted.
“Is that encouragement or an insult?” You teased, glancing at the small blinking light in the corner of the VIP section. You didn't notice it before.
“Raise your hand if you think our girl should get laid!” Addison announced, raising her hand high and spilling some of her drink on the seat. “Whoops.”
The group raised their hands as you attempted to clean up the small mess. “I’m not hooking up with anyone tonight,” you said to their disappointment. “This night isn't about me and my love life.”
“Your love life? Babe, it doesn't exist!” Addison grabbed your left hand and held it up to stare at your bare ring finger. “I don't get it. You're the only one not engaged or married yet. And you're, like, the sweetest one in our group. And you're so pretty! It’s not fair that you don't have a man. You deserve one.”
“And sex!” Dana chimed in. “You deserve lots of sex!”
You gently pulled your hand away and pushed down the sadness that surfaced at the reminder that you were the only single one left of your friends. You didn't know why you hadn't met the right one yet. It wasn't like your standards were too high and you were a good, loyal partner. You wouldn't say you were supermodel gorgeous, but you were pretty. You knew how to have a good time.
Right?
Addison's lip wobbled when she saw the look on your face. “Hey, hey, hey. I’m sorry. I didn't mean anything by it,” she rambled, hugging you from the side. “I just want you to have what Brady and I have. I want someone to love you.”
Guilt crept in before you shook your head and flashed your best smile. You know she wasn't trying to make you feel bad and you didn't want to ruin her night. “And one day, I will. Someone will love me the way Brady loves you and I’ll love him, too,” you assured her, giving the other girls a shrug and wishing they'd stop with the pitying stares. “Shots?”
“Shots!”
Your eyes briefly went back to the blinking light before you put a small smile back on your face. Addison was having fun and that was what mattered. You could worry about yourself and your feelings tomorrow.
“I’m sorry, but did my friends and I do something wrong?” You asked, dodging his question. You booked and paid for the section well in advance. Your group danced around in the area, and behaved overall and kept to yourselves. The server got a nice tip at the end of the night.
So what was the matter?
“Not at all,” he said, tilting his head. “I’m just sorry I couldn't introduce myself to you that night.”
“I don't understand. You broke into my home just so you could introduce yourself to me?” You asked as he traced small circles on your hips, the motion making your head spin a little. “How do you even know where I live?”
He chuckled, the corners of his eyes crinkling, before he got serious again. “I have my ways. And I can be a little intense and forward at times, but you’ll get used to it,” he said, your eyes wide again. What was wrong with this man?
“Okay, Bucky,” you said slowly, seeing something wicked flash in his eyes when you said his name. “Being intense and forward doesn't excuse breaking into my home. And since my friends and I didn't do anything wrong at your club and you formally introduced yourself, I think it's time for you to leave.”
A second passed before he shook his head. “No, doll. It’s time for you to get the love life and man you deserve.”
Fingers brushed your throat as you struggled to take your next breath. “What did you say?”
“I'm going to take you out to dinner tomorrow so you can get to know me and you’re going to wear the dress I bought for you,” he explained as if he didn't hear you, nodding toward the hall. “It’s waiting for you in your bedroom and, yes, it’s your size.”
How did this man have the nerve and how long had he been in your place? “You went into my room? You-”
“And I bought you that perfume you recently ran out of. I know how much you love it. I know everything about you,” he continued, running his nose along your neck as your blood ran cold. “Oh, we’re going to have so much fun together.”
You moved back, desperate to get away as your stomach twisted. He didn't let you get far, easily yanking you close again. How did he know anything about you? How did you catch his eye?
The blinking light in the corner of the VIP section …
“And if I say no?”
Bucky pulled back, his eyes calculating as he studied you. “I’m not going to force you into going out with me. It’s your choice to say yes or no, but I want you to think carefully about that choice.”
Dread pooled in your gut. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I obviously know where you live and I can get in and out undetected,” he pointed out. You wondered now if this was the first time he had been in your place. “I also know where your friend Addison and her fiancé, Brady, live.”
A wounded sound escaped at the thought of anything happening to your friends. “Please, leave them alone.”
“And the shop you work at, I know where it’s located. Those floral arrangements you make are stunning. Your boss even gave you a raise recently. You should be proud,” he smiled.
Your eyes watered again. The man was certifiably insane. Maybe this was a sick joke or a bad dream. Soon you'd wake up in your bed.
But the iron grip on your body reminded you that this was very real.
He waved a hand dismissively. “But we both know you’ll make the right choice because you're a good girl… a smart girl,” he said like he hadn't just threatened your friends or livelihood. “Just take the night to think it over. Have a glass of wine and draw yourself a nice bath while you do.”
He surprised you by moving you from his lap to the sofa. His hands and eyes lingered on you momentarily before he released you and stood up. Towering over you, he gave you a tender smile as he buttoned his jacket.
“I’m going to lock the door behind me when I leave and I’ll be back tomorrow at 7pm so you can give me your answer. And if you try and tell anyone I was here tonight, I’ll know about it,” he said, grasping your chin when you tried to look away. “It’s taking all of my control not to drag you to bed, but I can wait a little longer.”
Fear prickled the back of your neck as you tensed up. “You couldn't just ask me out like a normal person?”
You almost regretted asking when he narrowed his eyes, but he huffed out a laugh. “Where's the fun in that?” He winked as you shrank back in your seat. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. I won't hurt you. And you know what? I just thought of something. You still need a plus one for the wedding. I’m free. I’ll get a suit to match your bridesmaids’ dress. We’ll look perfect together. And Addison will be so happy that you aren't going alone.”
His tone was light and happy like it was a suggestion and not an order, but the ferocity in his gaze had you trembling. “Why are you doing this?” You asked above a whisper.
“Because I want you and I get what I want,” he said as a matter of fact, releasing your chin. “Like I said, it's time for you to get the love you deserve. And I know you'll give it to me in return.”
It was like your spirit floated out of your body as he bent down to kiss your forehead. You couldn't move or speak. Was this what shock felt like? Or was it complete and utter fear?
You stared ahead as he picked up your phone and unlocked it with your passcode. He knew that, too? “Can’t leave without giving you my phone number,” he smiled, putting his information in before he set the device down. You didn't respond. Once he was gone you could scream and cry. But you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of breaking down in front of him. “I’ll be back tomorrow night, 7pm. Get some rest. You'll need it.”
Even as he left you alone and locked the door behind him as promised, you didn't move from your spot as tears streamed down your cheeks. You didn't dare go to your bedroom to see the gifts he left for you, your hand shaking as you wiped at your face. The scent of his cologne lingered, as did his touch. It was like his shadow covered you, leaving you cold and afraid. Your home was no longer safe.
You weren't safe.
With his subtle threat looming over your head, you’d have no choice but to go out with him. Maybe he’d get bored of you quickly and move on. Or maybe not. You had no way of knowing. All you knew was that your average life was upheaved by the owner of The 107th.
And you were going to be his girl whether you liked it or not.
Bucky isn't wasting time. Where is he taking you on your first date? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
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Awn, good for reader for standing up for herself
Would love to read a continuation with Clark 💜
Holacia Note: This started as an idea from the song Minifalda but spiraled out of control and this is what I got 🤷♀️
Summary: You and your friends head out for drinks and dancing when you run into your stupid ex-boyfriend.
Ransom Drysdale x reader
Word Count: ~860
Warnings: history of unhealthy relationship, drinking, lady sticking up for herself. Remember to never drink and drive! Surprise cameo
Tag List: @drabblewithfrannybarnes @stargazingfangirl18 @thiskindahotkindamusic
Continuar a ler
Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x Baker!Female Reader Summary: You make a sweet impression on one of the new tattoo artists in the neighborhood. Word Count: Over 2.3k Warnings: Flirting, fluff, innuendos, brief moment of insecurity (reader's mom kind of sucks, sorry!), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). Future smut, slight angst, and feels. A/N: Because I "need" another tattoo AU, let me introduce you to Hottie and Sugar. ❤️ Thank you to @rookthorne , @sweeterthanthis, @dreamlessinparis, @11thstreetvigilante for listening to me ramble about this man and some future upcoming shennanigans. Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby (thank you!), but any and all mistakes are my own. Moodboard by yours truly, divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics, and Bucky edit by the wonderful Nix. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
The first time Bucky Barnes walked into your bakery, your best friend and co-owner, Tess, assumed he was lost. Maybe because he didn't appear to be your average customer. A confident aura surrounded him, like he took what he wanted without question. You hadn't encountered a man who looked like sin incarnate before.
It took you a moment to greet him with how dry your mouth had gone.
The stranger didn't smile as he made it to the counter in a few strides. It surprised you that he got through the door with his massive frame. The dark t-shirt and jeans looked painted on and the skin you could see was littered with tattoos. A handsome package wrapped up with chestnut brown hair past his ears, short beard, and steel blue eyes.
Lust at first sight was an understatement.
It was as if he walked out of your wet dreams and into your life.
Sin. Incarnate.
You smiled from ear to ear when you saw him up close, even though he still didn't smile back. You didn't take it personally. Tess once said you were too sweet for your own good, but you replied you never knew what was going on with your customers. Maybe a bit of kindness would brighten their day.
You weren't sure if it was friendliness that he needed, but he wouldn't stop staring at you.
You admitted to yourself later that his gaze made your heart pound and it wasn't out of intimidation.
"Hi. What can I get for you?" you asked.
He blinked and looked toward the display case, giving you a chance to exhale.
When did you start holding your breath?
"Something sweet," he said, his voice huskier than you expected as he jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "Those were the exact words my punk friend said."
"That's extremely helpful in a bakery," you deadpanned.
His eyebrows shot up as you dropped the serious expression and started laughing. It surprised you when he laughed with you. Not only did you consider his reaction a personal victory, but it made him look even more handsome.
How was that possible?
"Exactly what I said."
"Well, not sure if he's allergic to anything or how many of you are eating, but we can do an assortment of cookies if you'd like," you suggested, walking to the end of the case to show him the different flavors.
"That sounds good. A dozen should work," he said, narrowing his eyes as he placed his large hands on the glass and looked it over again. Was it rude to stare at him? "And since the punk didn't tell me what he wanted, surprise me."
"I'll pick the best flavors," you smiled as you grabbed a box and tongs.
"What's your favorite?" he asked curiously, folding his hands and resting his chin on top of them as you selected the cookies.
Your cheeks flamed when you realized he was watching you. You hoped you didn't drop anything. "Can't go wrong with chocolate chip. It's a classic. If I had to pick a favorite treat overall, I'd pick the caramel chocolate brownie. Simple, but full of flavor."
"I'll take one of those, too, please."
"Sure. You'll have to let me know what you think," you said, placing the best brownie from the batch in a smaller box.
"So, you're saying you want me to come back," he said with a half smile as he pushed himself off the display to follow you back to the register. "Is that it?"
Is he flirting with me? No, he couldn't be.
Your mom chastised you for ending things with your recent boyfriend. According to her, you should've appreciated that a charming, good-looking man wanted you all of all people. It hurt to hear that, but he turned out to be a jerk and you refused to settle for less than what you deserved.
You also wouldn't let negative thoughts cloud your safe space.
"I wouldn't mind," you giggled before you cleared your throat. Even if by some miracle he was hitting on you, you weren't supposed to flirt while you worked. "We like having repeat customers," you added.
"I'm sure you have plenty. It's a cute shop."
You looked for a hint of sarcasm on his face and found none. "Thanks," you said, holding your head a bit higher. The shop was your baby and you took pride in it, always doing your best to make it as bright and welcoming as you could. "And I really would like to know what you think. Always looking to improve if we can."
"It's a good thing I'm just across the street," he said as he got his wallet out. "I can sample the entire menu."
You began to ring him up when you paused. "You don't happen to work in the new tattoo shop, do you?"
Some of the other business owners on the block weren't too happy about a tattoo parlor opening up, afraid that it would attract a rougher crowd. You knew better than to judge a book by its cover. You also felt bad that you hadn't had a chance to go over to introduce yourself.
"Co-owner. What gave it away?" he asked, reminiscent of your deadpan delivery moments ago.
"Oh, just this feeling," you teased, wondering how many tattoos he had hidden under his clothes. You cut that thought off and stopped him when he took some cash out to pay. "On the house as a small welcome to the neighborhood."
He moved his hand over to the tip jar and dropped the money in. "Thanks," he gave you a half smile again as he glanced at the nametag on your bright apron and said your name.
It sounded like honey on his tongue.
"I'm Bucky, by the way. Nice to meet you," he said, taking the boxes.
"Nice to meet you, too," you smiled back, a wave of heat rolling down your chest at the thought of him coming back to see you. "Enjoy the treats."
"I'm sure they'll be as sweet as you, Sugar," he smirked.
You stood there, stunned, as he walked out of the shop. Thankfully it was a slow time of day and you had a moment to fan yourself once you remembered to breathe. You had half a mind to get a tattoo as an excuse to see him again.
"Who the hell was that?" Tess asked from behind you.
You jumped and clutched your chest, forgetting that she was in the shop. "My new crush," you answered without thinking.
"Obviously. I thought he was lost until he ordered something," she snickered as she nudged your shoulder. "You were giggling."
"Yeah. Well, I doubt he'll be back," you mumbled, going to the case to wipe it down.
"Oh, he'll be back. I saw how he looked at you," she said, moving her eyebrows up and down. "You're the sugar he wants to taste."
"Did you see how hot he is? He has plenty of 'sugar' out there and I'm," you waved your hand as you tried to think of a good comparison. "I don't know. I'm Splenda."
"Okay. First, that sounds like your mother talking, which is not allowed in here. Second, you're not Splenda. You're the whole bakery. No putting yourself down in our sanctuary," Tess said sternly. She liked to give you a hard time as your best friend, but she was serious when it came to your love life and self-esteem. "For real. You're a catch."
"Maybe he'll fall in love after he eats the brownie I gave him," you joked.
"That's the spirit," Tess said, graciously not calling you out on your deflection. "He'll be back."
You didn't want to get your hopes up over a stranger, but you did want to see him again.
You just didn't expect him to visit your shop again the very next day.
"So," he said when he went to the counter and set his hands on it, blocking out everything behind him. "About that brownie."
"Yeah?" you asked breathlessly, praying you looked halfway decent. "What did you think?"
"Best fucking brownie I've ever had," he grinned and rubbed his stomach. The praise rendered you speechless. "What else is good here?"
Me. I'm good.
You wished you said what was on your mind, but you gave him one of the leftover sample cakes instead.
It went on like that for over a week. Bucky would stop in and select a new dessert. On the slower days, he tried the treat at the counter and chatted with you. Tess messaged you on your day off to tell you how disappointed he looked when you weren't there. He bought two items when you saw him the next day.
The brownie was still his favorite.
So you decided to surprise him when he showed up at his usual time. The blue Henley made his eyes stand out more and the smile he gave you sent heat through your core. Your hand managed not to shake as you held up a plate for him. You couldn't help but want to impress him.
"Is that my brownie?" he asked when he went to greet you.
"With a twist. Caramel chocolate brownie, but I added chocolate fudge frosting," you replied, handing it to him. His fingers touched yours and you wished at that moment that the counter didn't separate the two of you. "I hope you like it."
"I'm sure I will," he said, keeping his eyes on you as he brought the brownie to his mouth and took a bite. They slipped shut as he let out a deep moan. His head fell back briefly, too.
Your fingers twisted in your apron as you pressed your thighs together. Did he do that on purpose or was it that good? You didn't think your treats were worthy of pornographic sounds.
"Fucking delicious," he promised as he opened his eyes and took another bite. "It'll hurt my feelings if you don't add this to the menu."
"Thank you. I'm glad you like it," you said, wondering if the words sounded as breathless as you felt.
"I haven't tried a single thing here I didn't like, Sugar."
"Why do you keep calling me 'Sugar'?"
"'Cause you seem sweet, like these treats you make for everyone," Bucky stated as a matter of fact. "I can stop if you don't like it."
"Please, don't stop," you said. You liked hearing it from him.
He smirked as he licked a bit of frosting off his thumb, your mouth salivating at the sight. "Not how I expected to hear those words from you."
Blood rushed to your cheeks as your brain tried to process what he said. You could play it cool. Or play along. "Well, Hottie, if you're lucky, you might hear them in a different way."
Bucky's mouth shifted from a smirk to a full blown grin. "Hottie?"
You tried to summon the ground to swallow you up, but it didn't work.
"Well. Yeah. I mean, you call me Sugar, which makes you Spice. Spices can be hot and you're a hottie," you said with as much dignity as possible before you giggled. "Or I can just call you Bucky and we forget this entire conversation."
"I won't forget. My memory can be fuzzy at times, but I'll remember this conversation," he promised, tapping his temple. "And keep calling me that. I like it."
You leaned across the counter, trying to look as enticing as possible. At least, as much as you could in your work apron. He visited the shop multiple times now and he was definitely flirting with you now. You could make a move.
Don't be Splenda. Be the whole bakery.
"Bucky, would you want to-"
The door swung open before you could finish your question, your shoulders slumping in defeat. "There you are, Buck. Andy is actually smiling at someone. Hal's trying to get a picture. You gotta see this."
Bucky's nostrils flared as he closed his eyes. "Fucking punk."
He sounds as disappointed as I feel.
"Friend of yours?" you guessed.
"That's just Steve with his impeccable timing."
Bucky stepped aside so you could get a look at his friend. The man was just as large as your newfound crush, also covered in tattoos with long, blonde hair and a trimmed beard. And he was beaming at you.
"You must be Sugar. Buck mentioned you."
"Is that right?" you asked.
"Oh, yeah," Steve smiled. "Hasn't shut up about you."
Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you gazed at the brunette. He didn't look ashamed or embarrassed as he stared back. You must have made some sort of good impression on him if he spoke to a friend about you.
"Are you working tomorrow?" he asked, ignoring his friend for the time being as he handed you his empty plate.
"Yeah. I'm opening the shop," you answered.
"If I'm not arrested for murdering my best friend, I'll come back and we can finish our conversation," he said as Steve frowned. You couldn't stop yourself from smiling. "If that's okay with you."
Who in their right mind would say "no"?
"More than okay. I'll see you tomorrow," you said, giving Steve a wave as Bucky stomped toward him. "Nice meeting you, Steve."
"You, too. Keep making those cookies! They're so good!" he chuckled as his friend chased him out of the shop.
"Oh, who the hell was that?!" Tess shouted from the back of the office.
"A friend with bad timing," you called back with a shake of your head.
"You were finally going to ask him out, weren't you?" she asked, poking her head out. "About time. Sick of hiding in the office so I don't have to watch you two flirt."
You scoffed when you caught her smiling. "You love being in the office. And tomorrow is a new day. I'll ask him."
"You better wear something pretty for your hottie."
She's never going to let me live that nickname down.
You weren't sure what you were going to wear tomorrow, but you knew you couldn't wait to open the shop and see Bucky again.
Hope you liked this sweet introduction and can't wait to share more of this Bucky and the other boys. Love and thanks for reading! 💙
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Baby fox with a broken leg gets rescued and visits the vet for his cast.
(via)
sleepy sex when you're both too tired to keep your eyes open and every stroke feels like heaven mhmmmm