Shameless Hoe HQ

Shockingly, it wasn’t so much sadness you felt as you realized the inevitable had happened–that your village had finally been conquered by the royal army–it was… nothing. You felt nothing at this revelation, although in the deep recesses of your mind, a quiet voice admonished that you should be ashamed for being so heartless. 

You shrugged away those thoughts, however, because there was a reason you were out in the wilderness all on your own, and had been for weeks. There was a reason why you were near delirious from hunger and dehydration, and you were as close to Death’s doorstep as you had ever been before. 

And as far as you were concerned, none of it was your fault. 

The familiar burn of anger and betrayal rose within you, making your eyes fill with furious tears as you shoved away from the tree and staggered forward, continuing your trek, as stupid and reckless as it was. 

Because you were heading straight for the enemy’s camp. 

It was senseless, you knew, dangerous, but you were so very hungry, and lured closer by the warm, comforting aroma that wafted toward you, promising something hearty and delicious to chase away the pangs of hunger stabbing through your belly. 

You had heard that the king took great care of his people–his royal army even more so–and your frazzled, hazy mind could only imagine the kind of feast they would indulge in tonight to celebrate their victory over your former people. 

The soldiers would be so lost to their revelry that it would be easy for you to just slip in and out of the perimeter of their camp. Take a small ration for yourself, a spare waterskin, too, just to keep you going, to keep you alive until you were far enough away from your village to be safe at last. 

And it was much easier to focus on this one task–find food and water–than the whole complicated and messy situation you now found yourself in. 

Your steps did not falter as you approached the edge of the camp. It had been set up in the large field on the outskirts of town, was now situated with numerous tents and horse-drawn carriages filled to the brim with supplies. 

There was one such carriage a few yards before you–left unattended–just like the crates set outside it. You could see rounds of bread peeking over the edge of the top crate, and your mouth began to water, your eyes too, as hopeful tears finally made an appearance and spilled over, streaking your dirty cheeks. 

You were too focused on the glorious food before you to realize you were no longer alone, and just as your trembling fingers gripped the crusty round of bread and pulled it free, you were grabbed from behind. 

You whimpered as you felt the cool blade of a knife beneath your chin, tipping up your frightened face as you clutched the bread to your chest and stuttered out an apology. 

“Save your sniveling,” a gritty voice snapped as a big hand closed around your arm and began to roughly steer you away from the carriage and further into the enemy’s camp. “You picked the wrong man to steal from, our fierce commander,” your captor rumbled. “And now you shall meet him and face the consequences.”

You were led to the largest tent, many a soldier’s wandering eye following your forced march, hoots of laughter and lewd taunts trailing you as you passed by. 

But you did not wilt under the attention–you would not–you had been through far too much already, and if you were to meet your gruesome fate this night, you would so with your head held high and your spine as straight as steel. 

Despite your brave thoughts, your stomach roiled with fear as you were brought before two hulking men, the leaders of the army, you assumed. They sat on a log before the fire outside their tent, talking quietly as they enjoyed their meal.

The bigger of the two had short blond hair neatly swept back from his handsome face, his shoulders as broad as you had ever seen and stretching the dark blue material of his tunic. The other man was beefier and brunette, his hair shaggy and curling over the collar of his red tunic as his dark eyes danced with amusement at whatever they discussed. 

You only had but a moment to drink them in before the man behind you roughly threw you to the ground at their feet as an introduction. To your great shock, rather than laugh or jeer like the other men had at your predicament, these two both looked disproving of your captor’s behavior. 

“Have care, you brute,” the brunette admonished. “That is no way to treat one so fair.”

“I caught her stealing a round of bread.” Your captor explained, holding the loaf aloft like it was the most damning of evidence. 

And you supposed it was. 

“Give it to her,” the blond man said calmly. 

You gaped at him, still sprawled in the dirt at his feet as your captor spoke behind you, sounding as flabbergasted as you yourself felt. 

“Come again, commander?”

“She’s clearly starving.” The commander rose to his feet, the sheer size of him making you tremble. 

You had no doubt that this man was the leader of the rest. Everything about him screamed strength, power, and authority–from the confident way in which he held himself, to the impressive sword gleaming at his hip.  

He drew closer to you, and you tried to scramble away, but with your captor at your back, you had nowhere to go and instead whimpered in fear–loathing the weak sound the moment it fell from your lips. 

“Be calm, fair one,” the blond murmured softly as he reached for you. His grip on your arm was firm but not painful as he pulled you to your feet before ushering you to the seat he himself had just vacated. Once you were sat, he pressed his own steaming bowl of stew between your shaking hands. “Eat.” 

You heard the brute from earlier huff, then turn on his heel and begin to stomp away, but the brunette beside you stayed his retreat with a terse, “Leave the round of bread for our guest.” 

And just like that, you suddenly had more food being offered to you–by the enemy–than you had eaten in weeks. 

The realization, and the shock of it all, had you going silent and curling in on yourself. You were scared, as much as you hated to admit it, even more afraid than you had been the day you had fled your homeland. 

The day you had fled for your life. 

Because now, you had foolishly gone and run straight into enemy territory. And if you thought that trying to survive on your own, with no food or shelter or anyone to help you, had been a challenge, you could only imagine what was in store for you now. 

And how ironic a fate, that in fleeing to survive, you had run straight to your doom.  

You watched warily as the army commander stepped away. He turned to his attendant who stood just outside the tent entrance, and although he kept his voice low, you could hear him request a bath be drawn for you for after you supped. 

Your face burned, because for the first time since you had left your home, you found yourself worrying about your appearance. You could only imagine how dreadful and unbecoming you looked after weeks out in the wild. 

Eyes dipping past the bowl of stew in your grip, you realized for the first time just how filthy you were. Your dress, which had once been a light gray and cream combo was now stained dark, covered in dirt and grime, and your boots were nearly worn straight through from your travels. 

Although you weren’t a true maiden–those didn’t exist in your poor village–you had always tried to take care of yourself and present well, and now that was yet another thing from your former life that you had lost.

The commander easing into the spot beside you broke you from your thoughts. As his arm brushed yours, you realized that you were now pinned between the two largest, most competent looking warriors you had ever seen.

The flare of panic was instant, and strong, and yet… you couldn’t help the curiosity that rose up within you. Trying to be subtle about it, you peeked back and forth on either side of you, amazed by the way that these two men defied what you had always been told–and imagined–about conquerors. 

They did not appear violent nor foul. In fact, they both looked freshly bathed, their clothing much finer than any you had seen before. But you supposed if they were as accomplished and victorious as you had heard about the king’s royal army, then they must want for very little, even in the field.

You glanced around the camp, observing that the other soldiers looked well-fed, their tents in very decent shape. They looked less like a crew of brutal savages and more like a noble party. 

Which only made you feel even more out of place. But you tried your best to push that aside, along with your anxiety and lingering fear, because more than anything–and most importantly–you were famished. As the incredible aroma of the commander’s stew filled your nose, your stomach gurgled loudly, causing the brunette beside you to bark a laugh. 

Cheeks warming with humiliation, you curled in on yourself, cradling the bowl to your chest as you gripped the spoon and began to shovel the stew into your mouth, forgetting your manners entirely. 

“Pace yourself, or your dinner will return before it's even settled in your belly,” the commander chided, but his voice was colored with amusement, his blue eyes sparkling with mirth as he watched you peek over at him as you slowed the pace of your eating. 

“Does our guest have a name?” the brunette asked you. At your hesitation–your fear put on plain display–his gaze softened. “I am Ari, and this is Steve,” he gestured toward the blond. “He is our fearless commander, and I am his irresistibly handsome lieutenant."

The urge to laugh was strong, but you suppressed it, still untrusting of these strangers as you took a moment to chew your food. Swallowing your mouthful, you licked your dry lips before quietly murmuring your name. 

Ari echoed your name in his deep baritone, making your belly flutter for some reason, and you found yourself quickly looking away, as he asked, “What is a woman doing out in the wild all on her own?”

It was as if Ari’s acknowledgement of your circumstances–and he and Steve witnessing your desolate state–made everything more real, made it all come rushing back to you now, as fresh as when it had first happened. You felt the familiar anger and resentment flood you, but you felt a well of shame too as you admitted, “If I did not flee my home, I would have been executed.”

Steve straightened beside you, a tic popping in his jaw as he stared at you for a long, quiet moment before he shared a look with Ari. “Well, now we are quite intrigued, brave one,” he told you.

Ignoring the flutter in your chest at the endearing title, you explained yourself, feeling an unexpected sense of relief as you were allowed to tell your story–your truth–to those willing to listen. 

Even if they were the enemy.

“My betrothed,” you sneered at the mention of him, “defiled my younger sister, so I made sure he would never defile another again. His father, who had bribed my own into the forced union, called for my head for maiming his heir and ending his family line. When it was clear that none would come to my defense nor aid, not even my own kin, I ran.”

There was a long, tense moment of silence once you finished speaking. You could feel the gravity of the situation settle over you–your new burden to bear–as Steve and Ari took a moment to process your tale. 

“We are not so different then,” Ari murmured eventually, sounding impressed by you and what you had done. “Fighting to protect those we love.”

You couldn’t help but scoff. “We are nothing alike. You are conquerors.”

“Conquerors to your people, protectors to ours,” Steve rebutted as you glanced over at him. The corners of his lips curled slightly as he dipped his head to meet your fierce, fiery gaze head on. “I wonder, what shall we be to you, brave one?”

There was something in Steve’s words, something intimate with a touch of impropriety, that had you shivering. That made your breath stutter and catch in your chest as you stared at him, unsure of how to respond. 

It was starting to dawn on you at that moment, that perhaps you weren’t as in danger as you had originally presumed.

Nothing in the way Steve and Ari watched you spoke of violence or ill intent. Your eyes fell to your lap, to the empty dinner bowl cradled in your hands. They had willingly fed you, shared their very own rations with you–a stranger, an exile–and shown you the type of kindness and understanding that not even your own family had been able to muster. 

After everything you had done to protect and avenge your sister.

A well of sorrow at that realization opened deep within you, making your vision swim with the onslaught of tears that you furiously blinked away. Luckily, before you could try to cobble together a response, Steve’s attendant appeared, announcing that your bath was ready. 

“Go on,” Steve encouraged softly, his big hand warming the small of your back as he used the other to take your empty bowl. “You shall have your privacy for as long as you need it.”

Once again, you found yourself staring at him in disbelief. A hot meal in your belly, and now the promise of being clean. It perhaps seemed so small a thing, but to you, right now, after everything you had endured, it was the ultimate luxury. 

The ultimate kindness. 

At the unexpected luck–not doom–that had befallen you, you finally lost the battle with your tears, a few escaping that you quickly batted away as your insides curdled with embarrassment. 

“I’m sorry, I’m just… overwhelmed,” you quavered, slowly rising to your feet, your sore and exhausted body protesting the entire time. 

You took a step before pausing, swaying on your feet as you rung your fingers before you then peeked over your shoulder. Your shy gaze darted from Ari to Steve as you whispered, “Thank you.” 

Ari gave you a big, beaming smile, and Steve? His smile wasn’t as boyish, but it was there, and it was genuine. 

And as you turned to scurry into the tent, you could feel both of their gazes on you the entire time.

You could have spent hours in your bath, well, if the water hadn’t cooled and dirtied so quickly. But by the time you emerged, you felt like a new woman. 

Just as Steve’s attendant had promised, some clothing had been laid out for you at the foot of one of the large beds that filled the space. There were two of them within the tent, as well as the bathing area behind a folding partition, and a small writing desk tucked in the corner. The ground had been covered with an array of rugs, and you took just a moment to allow your bare toes to enjoy the soft warmth beneath your feet instead of the cold, harsh earth you had grown accustomed to over the past couple of weeks.

You dried yourself with a blessedly clean towel before moving toward the clothes awaiting you. You swallowed nervously as you realized it was no more than a long, linen shirt that left your legs bare once you quickly pulled it on. And it was instant, the way you were enveloped in a familiar scent that took your tired brain a moment to realize was Steve’s.

The commander of the king’s royal army himself had let you borrow his clothing. 

Something about the gesture had your insides warming exponentially, had something deep at the core of you fluttering and clenching all at once. 

You supposed after the way your former betrothed had treated you–like a possession to own, not a person–it was flattering to be cared for by another, especially one so fearsome and powerful. 

“Are you decent?”

You startled at the sound of Steve’s voice just outside the tent, flustered now as you glanced down at yourself and saw the way the commander’s shirt both shielded your modesty but draped along your body in a way that felt all too revealing. 

“Um, yes?” you trembled the response.

Not a second later, Ari ducked into the tent, his grin big and boyish as his eyes wandered the length of you without shame. “You sounded so unsure I was hoping you were indecent,” he winked.

You could only gape after him as he moved toward the bed opposite where you stood and started to unbuckle his sword belt. 

“I assure you Ari’s brashness does grow on you,” Steve’s voice was amused as he entered the tent, watching his lieutenant fondly. “Eventually.” Turning his full attention to you, he shifted close, his gaze slowly roving over you. “Feeling better?”

“Much, yes,” you mumbled, hugging yourself tightly as you cleared your throat and stepped away. 

The back of your knees hit the edge of the bed, and you squeaked, flailing for a beat before Steve’s  hands shot out, catching your arms and tugging you upright, flush against him. 

“Careful, brave one,” he hummed, his warm breath washing over your face and making you shiver. 

Steve’s body heat began to seep through the thin shirt you wore, and you couldn’t help it as you shuddered and sank against him further, for you hadn’t been this warm in far too long. It took a moment for your brain to catch up with your actions, and you stiffened.

“Forgive me,” you stuttered, face warm as you tried to pull away, but Steve’s grip held firm. 

“No need for that,” he husked, his hands urging you closer before dipping to frame your waist and making your breath hitch. “You’ve been through so much, it is very understandable that you would seek comfort in another, and I am willing to give it to you.” Steve glanced over your shoulder, at Ari, you assumed, as he confirmed, “We both are.”

Your brain was still processing his words when you felt an undeniable heat at your back. 

“It must be lonely out here all on your own,” Ari breathed, planting his hands on your shoulders and giving them a squeeze. “Especially now with winter soon approaching, with everyone you’ve ever known calling for your head.”

Steve gently backed you into Ari, until you were effectively sandwiched between both men. “We can keep you safe, warm, well fed,” he promised. 

“Well pleasured, too,” you could hear the smile to Ari’s words as you felt them rush past your ear. 

You gasped, your face pinching as you glared up at Steve and hissed, “I am not a whore.”

“We do not claim you to be one, but… you could be ours.”

You blinked at him, uncomprehending, and Steve’s face softened. His touch on your waist shifted, until he was gently rubbing along your sides, his gesture one to soothe. 

“You are not the only one who suffers loneliness,” Steve explained. “We yearn for hearth and home and a warm body to sink into after a fierce battle has been won.”

Ari hummed his agreement, the sound a gritty rumble that had your pussy clenching hard before fluttering. His thumbs dug more deeply into your shoulders, rubbing away the tense knots beneath your skin that had built up from weeks of living in stress and terror, of running on pure adrenaline and betrayal. 

You were overwhelmed, your body feeling more alive–and hyperaware–than it had ever felt before. Although you knew you should have been repulsed by their offer, by what they wanted from you, you weren’t. 

You were flattered, and more so than that, you found yourself wanting, truly and shamelessly, for the first time in your whole life. 

But this was something in which you were not versed–not at all–and you didn’t know truly what they wanted, or what to do. So you confessed as much. 

“I do not know about…  any of this.”

“Then allow us to teach you, sweet one,” Ari whispered, pressing a lingering kiss to the side of your throat. 

At the gentle scrape of his beard against your skin, you shuddered hard, a soft, wounded sound rising up the back of your throat–because you had never been touched like this, nor desired in such a genuine yet carnal way. 

You were wanted, by both of these lethal yet beautiful warriors.

You.

The realization made your head buzz and your body vibrate with anticipation. Yet still, you were afraid of the unknown, your voice an unsure quaver as you asked, “You would… be gentle with me?”

“We do not seek to harm you,” Steve promised, his gaze somehow both earnest and fierce as he met your own. “We seek to make you feel good.”

Ari’s voice was playful as he countered, “Although I have a sense that a fiery one like you may one day ask for a harsher touch.”

The idea alone had you squirming between them, a tickle and gush between your legs causing you to press your thighs together. 

Steve noticed your reaction, something sinful igniting in his gaze as he watched you, as he drank in your blatant yet shy desire. His hand lifted, his knuckles trailing down your cheek in the most gentle caress before his fingers caught your chin and forced your gaze to meet his. 

“May I taste these tempting lips?” 

Once again your breath hitched, and you were nodding before your brain fully processed his words. 

“Good girl,” Steve purred, making your pussy flutter wildly as he slowly leaned in. 

The first touch of his plump lips against your own had a rush of heat flooding through your body, making each and every one of your nerve endings sing as his mouth expertly moved against your own. 

Steve’s hands shifted to cradle your face, his touch as soft as the press of his lips against your own. He was being gentle with you–careful–like you were as precious and delicate as spun glass, and the fact that a revered warrior could treat you in such a way had your emotions welling up once again, as well as a new wave of tears. 

They spilled over before you could prevent them from doing so, and Steve slowly pulled away when he tasted the salt of your tears. 

“Do you want to stop?”

You shook your head so quickly that it made him smile and Ari laugh behind you and give your hips a fond squeeze. 

“No, I am sorry,” you took a breath. “I am just so overwhelmed by… all of this. But… not in a bad way.” 

“Mmm, glad to hear it, sweet one,” Ari rumbled against your shoulder, pressing a kiss there before leaning closer. “Because you have no idea what your scent does to me,” he groaned, tucking his face against the crook of your neck and breathing in deep. 

You gasped, a tiny bit scandalized but also thrilled to have such an effect on him. This was still so new for you–this kind of primal attention, being touched in this way, let alone by two devastatingly handsome strangers who seemed to want you so desperately. 

“Oh,” you mewled as Ari began to press a trail of slow, lingering, open-mouthed kisses along your throat. Your head tipped sideways to make more room for him, to encourage him, your eyes fluttering shut at his attention as your nipples pebbled into hard, achy peaks. 

As if he knew your body so well already, Steve’s hands cupped your hips, slowly gliding up your sides–learning the terrain of your body–before he was gently cupping one of your breasts in each of his hands. 

At his sinful touch, you moaned for the first time ever, arching your back on instinct to press more firmly into Steve’s grip. He rewarded you with a deep, satisfied rumble from the back of his throat, touching his lips to yours for good measure as his fingers plucked your nipples through your shirt until you were keening softly. 

“She makes the sweetest sounds,” Ari groaned, his teeth gently nipping your skin and making you whine. 

“I bet something else is just as sweet,” Steve gristled. 

That was all the warning you got before his hand was sliding beneath the tunic you wore and up your bare thigh. It shamelessly pressed its way between your legs, his knuckles caressing just as gently along your bare cunt as they had your face mere moments before. 

“S-Steve,” you trembled, unable to help it as your thighs pressed shut. 

“Shhh, let me get you ready for us, sweet one,” he whispered against your ear. “I’ll make you feel so good, I promise.” 

You shivered as he pressed a lingering kiss to your temple, making a pleased sound as you released a shaky breath and spread your legs to his questing touch. 

As his fingers teased gentle circles around your clit, you made a soft, breathy sound of surprise, biting your lip and tipping your head back against Ari’s shoulder as your legs opened even wider, encouraging Steve’s sinful touch. 

“There you go,” Steve hummed, drawing his fingers up your slit. “You’re so wet and eager for us already, just like I knew you’d be.” His touch dipped lower, growing more firm, and you gasped as he eased a finger into you slowly, spreading your tight walls for the first time ever as you keened and canted your hips against his lewd invasion. 

“Let him work you open, love,” Ari cooed, banding a thick, muscled arm around your waist to keep you firmly in place as Steve explored your pussy for the first time. “Our swords aren’t the only big weapons we wield." 

You couldn’t help but snort at that, making Steve laugh and grin at you, his eyes crinkling in mirth as you dazedly met his warm gaze. As you stared into each other’s eyes he slowly fucked you with his thick finger, nostrils flaring as you squirmed and rocked against his touch eagerly. 

“I know you can take another, our brave love,” he murmured, easing a second finger in beside the first and making you whine at the unfamiliar yet delicious stretch. “You’re so tight, I know it’ll be like heaven to have you on our cocks.” 

“If we ever get to that point,” Ari nearly whined.

“I thought you enjoyed the build up,” Steve teased, exchanging a heated look with Ari over your shoulder. 

This time, Ari’s huff was wordless, his face dipping to your neck once more. You could feel how shaky his breath was as he inhaled your scent, his free hand finding your ass and giving a squeeze. 

“Perhaps we should take pity on him,” Steve said, his eyes twinkling as they met yours. 

Your mouth dropped open as he moved his fingers inside of you faster–deeper–until you were so wet that an obscene squelching noise filled the tent as you cried out and rutted against his hand, desperately seeking something you couldn’t even name. 

When Steve’s fingers suddenly retreated from your sex, you made a sound of dismay, glaring at the commander as he shot you a wink before painting your pouting lips with your own slick.

“Go on, give him a taste,” he smirked at you. Then he was moving so quickly, that between one blink and the next, you were spun around in Ari’s arms, facing him now. 

You froze at the feral state of him, at the almost predatory way in which he was watching you. He was so much bigger than you–his presence all consuming–as his dark gaze flickered to your gleaming lips.  

Ari swooped in without warning, one of his big hands moving to cradle the back of your head and keep you in place as he kissed you with a kind of ferocity that quite literally stole your breath away. 

You sank against him–helpless against his onslaught–your fingers clutching onto his tunic as Ari deepened the kiss. His tongue invaded your mouth, and he groaned at the taste of you, at the way you whined and went pliant in his hold, surrendering to him completely as you desperately tried to keep up with his feral, frantic kisses. 

When he finally pulled away, you were both panting, and you knew if Ari himself wasn’t holding onto you so tightly, that you would have collapsed to the ground by now, because it felt as if all of your bones had melted. 

“Those pretty lips aren’t the only thing I want to taste,” Ari growled. 

Your eyes widened as he backed you closer to Steve’s bed. The commander himself was now leisurely undressing, his gaze smoldering as he watched Ari deposit you on the foot of the bed and tug you right to the edge as he sank to his knees. 

You didn’t resist as Ari tugged Steve’s tunic from your body, and you listened when he told you to lay back and spread your pretty legs. Despite the way it felt like your face was on fire, and you were as vulnerable as you had ever been in your life, you were excited too as Ari settled himself between your legs. 

His palms were warm and rough–heavy too–as they settled on your inner thighs. He pressed your legs as far apart as they would go, lewdly baring your pussy to his gaze. It was as exhilarating as it was mortifying that he–and Steve–could see just how wet and wanting you were. 

Ari groaned as his thumbs tugged your folds apart, and you keened as he leaned in and dragged his broad tongue up the cut of you. You thrashed against the bed as his tongue laved along your clit, giving another throaty, shocked cry of ecstasy when Ari tugged back the hood of your clit and sucked your sensitive bud between his lips.

You sobbed at the overwhelming pleasure that pulsed through you, hips writhing as Ari feasted on you without shame. He lapped at you eagerly, without relent, until your body was trembling with your first ever orgasm, and all the breath evaporated from your lungs as a result. Each and every muscle in your body seized at once as you crested the wave of ecstasy, and when Ari hummed his approval, everything inside of you fluttered and clenched as one. 

“God, look at how pretty you are when you let go,” Ari murmured, not taking pity on your boneless, dazed state as he shoved two thick fingers inside of you, and started working you all over again. 

“Ari!” you whined, trying to twist away–because it was so much–but then Steve was sitting above you on the bed, naked and giving you a soft smile and quiet tut as he gathered both of your hands in one of his before pinning your wrists above your head. 

“Let him have his fun, sweet one, he fought and won a very hard battle today after all.” 

You opened your mouth, but all that came out was a pitiful moan as Ari curled his fingers and started to rub a spot inside of you that you didn't even know existed until now. Your body arched violently as you came, so hard, in fact, that you gushed all over Ari’s hand and wrist, nearly sobbing at the overwhelming pleasure. 

“Mmm, I had a feeling,” his grin was wolfish as it flickered up the length of you before meeting Steve’s lustful gaze. “Look at how sensitive and responsive this pretty pussy is.” 

As if putting on a show, Ari’s fingers retreated from you, and he once against tugged up the hood of your clit with one hand while using the other to rub back and forth so quickly–and effectively–that you were once again orgasming hard, your body writhing and gushing as you were rocked by another wave of intense carnal delight. 

“I think I've effectively warmed her up for you, commander,” Ari grinned. He gave your puffy pussy a soft pat before finally pulling away and giving you a moment to try to catch your breath. 

“As always, your hard work and dedication are much appreciated,” Steve drawled, his voice much lower and huskier than before. 

It had your insides fluttering and standing to attention despite the way it felt as if you had lost all control over your body–your bones liquified from Ari’s feral and thorough attention.

Which is why you were somewhat relieved when Steve shifted over you, and instead of focusing all of his attention on the warm, wet place between your legs, he instead smoothed a hand over your head, lightly touching his lips to yours in a fleeting kiss. 

You blinked up at him, your gaze glossy and almost helpless in a way that had a warm smile curling his lips and something in his eyes going tender. 

Steve’s thumb traced along your cheek, his lips touching the other in another show of unexpected tenderness that had a soft sigh rising up your throat. He turned your face so he could trail his lips along the hinge of your jaw, then he was kissing his way down the side of your throat, purring his delight as you squirmed beneath him. 

Steve took his time as he touched and tasted you, almost methodical in the way he descended your body, on a different kind of quest now as he paid you gentle attention until he could see some of the tension and overwhelm ease from your frame. 

You didn’t realize you were fisting the furs at either side of you until Steve’s hands gently loosened your grip. He eased your arms up, thumbs rubbing circles into your palms until your arms went lax above your head and your eyes fluttered at yet another blessed release. 

You sank further into the bed as Steve pressed your legs apart and settled more heavily against you. It was a different kind of delight to feel his firm, naked body flush to your own. 

You realized it quite suddenly–how safe you felt despite being so out of your depth and doing something so tawdry and unknown to you, with not one but two near strangers. 

You hadn’t known Steve or Ari for long at all, but they had shown you more care and kindness in this one evening than you had received in your entire life. There was an earnestness to them, too, and even though it didn’t make sense, for some reason that you couldn’t explain–one that was more instinctual than anything–you trusted them both.

And you knew it in the deepest part of your being–that they were good men. 

So you weren’t surprised at all when Steve nuzzled his nose along your cheek, his lips seeking your ear to murmur, “Are you able to endure more tonight, sweet one? Or have you had your fill? This beautiful body of yours seems boneless and well-ravished already, and we would not take advantage of you in such a vulnerable state. Say the word, and we will leave you to rest.”

Even though you could feel how much Steve wanted you–could feel the hard, hot press of him searing into the skin of your belly–you knew that he would retreat now, and Ari too, if you requested it. 

Which only made you want them–and want to pleasure them–more. 

“I don’t want to rest now, I want more,” you replied, feeling shy but forcing yourself to meet Steve’s gaze so he could see the truth shining in your eyes. “I want you, and I want Ari, and I want you both to take what you want from me.”

“Such a greedy thing,” Ari teased as he sank onto the bed above your head, sprawling adjacent to you and Steve. 

“And if we want everything?” Steve playfully challenged, allowing his weight to sink against you completely so you could feel all of him. “Would you give it to us?”

“Yes.”

“You are a gift,” Steve husked as he slowly drew his thumb along your lower lip. “One I would covet more than anything else, even a hard-fought victory.”

You swore your heart skipped a beat at Steve’s declaration, your eyes fluttering shut as he dipped close and kissed you slowly, ardently, making sure you felt just how genuine his words were.

When he pulled away, his eyes were the darkest you had seen yet. You shuddered as anticipation raced through you as he moved a hand between your bodies, his fingers drawing along your slit, ensuring you were wet and ready for him. 

Your breath caught when he dragged his hard, heavy cock along your bare cunt, coating himself with your arousal. You squirmed as he lined himself up with your entrance, holding your breath as his hips shifted, and he slowly began to push into you. 

The whimper spilled from your lips before you could suppress it. And not so much from any true pain you felt, but from the sheer strangeness of your body being invaded in this way. 

“Relax, sweet one,” Ari murmured over you, gently petting your head. His touch shifted to your shoulder, giving a squeeze that had you sinking into the furs beneath you and going a bit more pliant. “There you are. It may hurt for a tick, but he’ll make it worth it, just wait and see.”

You knew he was right, so you tried to focus less on the temporary discomfort and more on Steve himself. How big and broad he was–how strong. How gorgeous. The way his nostrils flared when you involuntarily clenched around him, and the weight of his warm palm on your lower belly as he pressed his touch there before his thumb reached down and began to strum your clit. 

“Oh!” you gasped at the added stimulation, your thighs falling further open and your hips shifting in a way that had Steve sinking into you even more. 

He groaned loudly, and it made your pussy flutter wildly, which only made him grunt as he draped himself over you, until your head was framed between his muscled forearms as his hips finally met yours, and he settled within you to the hilt. 

“I was right,” Steve breathed as he dropped his forehead to yours. “Utter heaven.” His lips teased your own, his hips shifting slightly and making you moan at just how full you were, for the first time ever. “Alright?”

You nodded, swallowing hard. Tentatively, you reached for Steve, your hands touching his sides, feeling how soft his skin was, how warm. Your touch gently skimmed higher, and you felt a swell of pride as Steve shuddered in response, because you affected him so. 

Gently, Steve began to rock his hips, moving inside of you with shallow thrusts that had your body lighting up and desperate for me. 

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” Steve panted against the crook of your neck, burying his face there for a beat as he gave a particularly deep rut that made you gasp. “M’sorry–”

“No! Again, please,” you whined, your fingers digging into his bare flesh more firmly as you curled your legs around his hips and urged him closer. “Please, Steve, I need… I need more.”

“Go on, commander, our girl can take it,” Ari purred, sprawling backwards and tucking his hands behind his head, getting more comfortable so he could enjoy the show. “Give it to her good.”

Groaning, Steve lifted his head to meet your gaze, swallowing hard as you nodded in encouragement. He shifted over you, planting one of his hands beside your head to give him more leverage, and then he was sliding out of you almost entirely before fully sheathing himself inside of you again with a slow, deep thrust. 

You keened in response, pleasure ricochetting through your body as you threw your head back and begged for more. 

Steve gave it to you, losing that stoic composure of his little by little, with each new thrust inside your tight, wet heat, with every one of your sweet, wrecked sounds. When his thumb once against found your clit and began to rub, you sobbed his name as you went rigid, your body bowing and jostling as Steve began to fuck you with enthusiasm. 

His free hand slid to your side, then beneath you, lifting your body against his in a way that had his cock delving into you deeper, and at the perfect angle. With each rut of his hips, you cried out in delight, shoving against him desperately–shamelessly eager for more–until everything inside of you detonated at once, your body trembling and writhing as you found your release. 

Steve hissed as you clenched around him hard, setting you back down against the bed so he could frame your hips with his large hands and hold you steady as he pounded into you, chasing his own release now. He gave a wordless shout as he reached his climax, throwing his head back, lost to his own bliss as he buried himself as deep inside of you as possible and throbbed within you, until your cunt was flooded with his warm, creamy seed. 

Panting, Steve sank to his hands and knees, hovering over you for a long moment as you gasped for breath beneath him. You couldn't help it as you reached for him, trailing your fingers up the flexed muscles of his forearm, his bulging bicep, until your touch was cradling his smooth cheek and aiming his dark, satisfied gaze your way. 

He stared at you for a beat before nearly lunging at you, his lips almost frantic against your own as he cupped your cheek and kissed you in a way that was almost as filthy as what the two of you had just done together. 

“You’re incredible,” Steve breathed against your lips. Stealing a final parting kiss before slowly pulling away. His smile was soft as you struggled to meet his gaze, his fingers falling to briefly lace with your own and give a squeeze before he shifted away. 

You enjoyed the sight of Steve’s naked body flexing and moving as he crossed the tent to clean himself up, and before you could fully pout as he disappeared behind the privacy partition, Ari was reaching for you. 

You squealed at just how easily he manhandled you as he rolled you onto your belly and hovered over your back for a moment. 

“I have a very specific way I want you, sweet one,” he rumbled against your ear, giving it a nip and laughing at your squeak. 

He gave your ass a soft spank before tugging you up onto your knees, but when you tried to get your hands beneath you, too, he tutted, big hand collaring the back of your neck and giving a squeeze that made you go still. 

“No, like this,” he murmured, pressing your face back down into the furs beneath you, until your sweaty cheek was against the bed, and your pussy was fluttering at the lewd position you were now in–your ass up and on full display as Ari moved behind you. 

His hands smoothed over the bare curve of your ass, gripping both your cheeks and making you jiggle in a way that had your face flooding with heat, but your pussy gushing too. 

“You are the embodiment of temptation,” he husked, pressing your legs further apart to make room for his massive body. “I can’t wait to fill you with my cock.” 

“Then do it,” you blurted, making Ari bark a laugh. 

“Brat,” he chuckled, giving your ass another smack and earning a moan from you for his effort. “Oh, we will definitely explore that more another time.”

Your belly fluttered at the sinful promise–at the fact that he was thinking of you as part of his future–but then all thoughts in your mind seemed to evaporate as you felt the thick, spongy head of Ari’s cock press against your drippy hole. 

His groan as he slowly pushed into you was loud and shameless and made your cunt flutter up a storm. You moaned as he pressed into you even deeper, taking his time to fill you up, his breath coming out in a harsh pant once he bottomed out and made you keen in the process. 

“Fuck,” he gritted, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as he gave a rut that had him somehow sinking into you even deeper. 

“Divine, isn’t she?” Steve gristled as he sauntered back into sight and perched on the side of the bed closest to you. He was still naked, his cock no longer gleaming with a combination of both your cums, but half-hard again already. 

His fingers touched your cheek, and you mewled, your lips parting on a harsh gasp as Ari began to really fuck you. 

“She is,” he grunted as he drove into you hard, groaning as you keened softly and clenched around his cock like a fist. “A gift, just like you said, our gift, all ours,” he babbled as his head fell forward, chin touching his chest as he lost himself to his pleasure. 

“I’ve never seen him so undone,” Steve grinned at you, gaze soft as your lashes fluttered and you tried to fight against the urge to close your eyes and surrender to your bliss. 

But Steve painted such a tempting picture, his body gleaming in the afterglow, his cheeks still a bit ruddy, and his hair flopping over his forehead. But it was the warmth in his gaze as he watched you that had you whining in a different kind of desperation as you reached for him, needing to touch him, to feel him, even as Ari unraveled you entirely. 

“Look at how sweet and needy you are,” Steve teased, meeting your outstretched fingers with his own and twining them together. His face grew more serious as he ducked closer to you, eyes blazing with determination as he told you, “From here on out, you will want for nothing.”

“Do you mind?” Ari huffed, groaning as his pace slowed and he shoved into you hard, lingering in your delectable warmth. He half-heartedly glared at Steve, but you could hear the tinge of amusement to his words as he said, “Save your sweet promises for after I’ve fucked her. You’ve already had your turn. Now it’s mine.”

Laughing, Steve raised his hands in playful surrender, giving your head a final pet before leaning down to kiss your cheek. “And you want Ari to fuck you, too, don’t you, sweet one? You want him to fill you with his seed, just like I did, huh?”

“Yes!” you gasped, fluttering at the thought of feeling it again–being flooded with the warmth of another’s pleasure, from you. “Please! Please, Ari.”

“You heard her, lieutenant," Steve purred, shifting so he could recline on the bed above you. He gave Ari a cheeky smile over your head. “Fill her with your cream. She’ll look so pretty leaking both our cum out of that tight well-fucked hole of hers.”

“Christ,” Ari gritted. 

You moaned as you felt his cock throb inside of you at Steve’s words, your eyes slamming shut as Ari gripped your hips and started to rut into you wildly. 

He had enough presence of mind to dip his hand beneath your body and work your clit, moaning as you came with a shaky cry of ecstasy and pulsed around his cock as your own pleasure swept you away. 

“Take it,” Ari snarled, curling over your back and completely blanketing your body with his as he hammered into you. The obscene sound of your pussy squelching each and every time his cock drove into you filled the tent, but it was the gravelly, wrecked state of Ari’s voice as he chanted, “Take it, take it, take it, every last drop,” as he fucked you that had your body trembling with one last orgasm, and it finally tipped Ari over the edge, too. 

He moaned into your shoulder as he came, burying himself as deep inside your cunt as he could. You could feel his cock swell before he was flooding you with his spend, and you moaned brokenly as the squelching grew louder. Your cheeks warmed as you felt his cum–and your own, and probably Steve’s too–leaking out around Ari’s cock as he gave a few final thrusts before finally going still. 

He was breathing harshly, his body as slick with sweat as your own and plastered to you, but it was a strange sort of comfort, being with Ari in the aftermath, feeling him as undone as you were, and sharing this moment with him. 

You couldn’t help but smile, giving a tired giggle as Ari muttered, “You’re an angel and a devil all rolled into one.” You hummed in agreement as he pressed a kiss to your cheek, pouting as he carefully pulled away from you, then out of you, before sinking back on his haunches. 

He gave an appreciative whistle as he watched the sizeable gush trickle out of you, and when you gave a huff and tried to roll away, he grabbed you, easily holding you in place with one hand while he used the other to scoop up the evidence of your debauchery and shoved it back inside you, laughing as you squealed. 

“Who’s the brute now?” Steve admonished, swatting Ari away from you before gently easing you onto your side. “I hope you’re prepared to deal with his nonsense, it’s endless.”

Your smile was tired but amused as your gaze flickered from Steve to Ari, who flopped down on the bed beside you, looking very chuffed and shameless as his sticky cock softened against his thigh. 

Steve caught the direction of your gaze, and he smirked at you, chuckling as you whined softly before burying your face into the furs to hide. “I can’t tell if you’re eager for more or appalled at the messy state of him.”

“I’d wager both,” Ari snickered. 

You felt the bed shift, and after a moment, Steve’s touch was on your back, gentle and reassuring as he leaned over you. “Let me clean you up before you sleep.”

You didn’t resist as he did just that, your belly swooping at the extreme care with which Steve wiped the mess from between your legs. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, struggling to keep your eyes open, but glad you caught a glimpse of Steve folding the cloth over and tossing it at Ari. 

“Make yourself decent or you’ll be sleeping by yourself tonight,” he chided with exasperation. 

“Why don’t you come over here and clean me yourself, commander?” Ari grinned wickedly, waggling his eyebrows as he caught your sleepy gaze and winked, “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

He laughed as your eyes widened and you peeked between the two of them, pressing your thighs together as the thought of them being intimate–without you–made your insides swoop and spark with a new and different kind of heat. 

Steve just shook his head, seeming more amused than anything as he went around the tent and blew out the few lanterns keeping the space alight. Leaving just one nearby glowing softly, he carefully climbed into bed beside you, smoothing a hand over your head as you snuggled into his side. 

A beat later, you felt the bed shift as Ari moved closer, pressing himself flush to your back. His lips found your bare shoulder, planting a soft kiss against your skin before his hand drifted to rest at your hip, making you feel enveloped completely. 

And safer than you had felt in a very long time. 

You felt the kind of safety that, just a couple of weeks ago, you would have thought impossible, especially for you, especially after everything.

But you were experiencing it now, genuinely, despite all that had led you here this night, and the revelation had you softly murmuring, “Protectors.”

“What’s that, brave one?” Steve hummed, his fingers trailing along your cheek as you sleepily blinked over at him. 

“To me, you shall be protectors,” you elaborated, answering his question from earlier in the evening.  “Although I dare say you have both conquered my body and claimed it as your own.”

“Then for you, and you alone, we shall be both,” Steve smiled, tweaking your nose and making you smile. 

“And we shall watch over our new favorite territory as you rest now, sweet love,” Ari rumbled at your back, his voice thick with sleep as he gave your hip a gentle squeeze before burying his face against your neck and going still. 

Giving a sigh of content, you allowed your tired eyes to drift shut at last. It wasn’t long at all before you finally fell asleep–warm, wanted, and well protected–your heart aglow with hope and the deep knowing that a life on the run, or alone in the wild, was no longer something you needed to worry about. 

Not anymore.

And not ever again.

It was actually a bit of a challenge writing this after going almost a month without writing and having lost my spark, but overall I’m really pleased with how it turned out. I’d love to know your thoughts and reactions! Thanks so much for reading ❤️

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Shockingly, it wasn’t so much sadness you felt as you realized the inevitable had happened–that your village had finally been conquered by the royal army–it was… nothing. You felt nothing at this revelation, although in the deep recesses of your mind, a quiet voice admonished that you should be ashamed for being so heartless. 

You shrugged away those thoughts, however, because there was a reason you were out in the wilderness all on your own, and had been for weeks. There was a reason why you were near delirious from hunger and dehydration, and you were as close to Death’s doorstep as you had ever been before. 

And as far as you were concerned, none of it was your fault. 

The familiar burn of anger and betrayal rose within you, making your eyes fill with furious tears as you shoved away from the tree and staggered forward, continuing your trek, as stupid and reckless as it was. 

Because you were heading straight for the enemy’s camp. 

It was senseless, you knew, dangerous, but you were so very hungry, and lured closer by the warm, comforting aroma that wafted toward you, promising something hearty and delicious to chase away the pangs of hunger stabbing through your belly. 

You had heard that the king took great care of his people–his royal army even more so–and your frazzled, hazy mind could only imagine the kind of feast they would indulge in tonight to celebrate their victory over your former people. 

The soldiers would be so lost to their revelry that it would be easy for you to just slip in and out of the perimeter of their camp. Take a small ration for yourself, a spare waterskin, too, just to keep you going, to keep you alive until you were far enough away from your village to be safe at last. 

And it was much easier to focus on this one task–find food and water–than the whole complicated and messy situation you now found yourself in. 

Your steps did not falter as you approached the edge of the camp. It had been set up in the large field on the outskirts of town, was now situated with numerous tents and horse-drawn carriages filled to the brim with supplies. 

There was one such carriage a few yards before you–left unattended–just like the crates set outside it. You could see rounds of bread peeking over the edge of the top crate, and your mouth began to water, your eyes too, as hopeful tears finally made an appearance and spilled over, streaking your dirty cheeks. 

You were too focused on the glorious food before you to realize you were no longer alone, and just as your trembling fingers gripped the crusty round of bread and pulled it free, you were grabbed from behind. 

You whimpered as you felt the cool blade of a knife beneath your chin, tipping up your frightened face as you clutched the bread to your chest and stuttered out an apology. 

“Save your sniveling,” a gritty voice snapped as a big hand closed around your arm and began to roughly steer you away from the carriage and further into the enemy’s camp. “You picked the wrong man to steal from, our fierce commander,” your captor rumbled. “And now you shall meet him and face the consequences.”

You were led to the largest tent, many a soldier’s wandering eye following your forced march, hoots of laughter and lewd taunts trailing you as you passed by. 

But you did not wilt under the attention–you would not–you had been through far too much already, and if you were to meet your gruesome fate this night, you would so with your head held high and your spine as straight as steel. 

Despite your brave thoughts, your stomach roiled with fear as you were brought before two hulking men, the leaders of the army, you assumed. They sat on a log before the fire outside their tent, talking quietly as they enjoyed their meal.

The bigger of the two had short blond hair neatly swept back from his handsome face, his shoulders as broad as you had ever seen and stretching the dark blue material of his tunic. The other man was beefier and brunette, his hair shaggy and curling over the collar of his red tunic as his dark eyes danced with amusement at whatever they discussed. 

You only had but a moment to drink them in before the man behind you roughly threw you to the ground at their feet as an introduction. To your great shock, rather than laugh or jeer like the other men had at your predicament, these two both looked disproving of your captor’s behavior. 

“Have care, you brute,” the brunette admonished. “That is no way to treat one so fair.”

“I caught her stealing a round of bread.” Your captor explained, holding the loaf aloft like it was the most damning of evidence. 

And you supposed it was. 

“Give it to her,” the blond man said calmly. 

You gaped at him, still sprawled in the dirt at his feet as your captor spoke behind you, sounding as flabbergasted as you yourself felt. 

“Come again, commander?”

“She’s clearly starving.” The commander rose to his feet, the sheer size of him making you tremble. 

You had no doubt that this man was the leader of the rest. Everything about him screamed strength, power, and authority–from the confident way in which he held himself, to the impressive sword gleaming at his hip.  

He drew closer to you, and you tried to scramble away, but with your captor at your back, you had nowhere to go and instead whimpered in fear–loathing the weak sound the moment it fell from your lips. 

“Be calm, fair one,” the blond murmured softly as he reached for you. His grip on your arm was firm but not painful as he pulled you to your feet before ushering you to the seat he himself had just vacated. Once you were sat, he pressed his own steaming bowl of stew between your shaking hands. “Eat.” 

You heard the brute from earlier huff, then turn on his heel and begin to stomp away, but the brunette beside you stayed his retreat with a terse, “Leave the round of bread for our guest.” 

And just like that, you suddenly had more food being offered to you–by the enemy–than you had eaten in weeks. 

The realization, and the shock of it all, had you going silent and curling in on yourself. You were scared, as much as you hated to admit it, even more afraid than you had been the day you had fled your homeland. 

The day you had fled for your life. 

Because now, you had foolishly gone and run straight into enemy territory. And if you thought that trying to survive on your own, with no food or shelter or anyone to help you, had been a challenge, you could only imagine what was in store for you now. 

And how ironic a fate, that in fleeing to survive, you had run straight to your doom.  

You watched warily as the army commander stepped away. He turned to his attendant who stood just outside the tent entrance, and although he kept his voice low, you could hear him request a bath be drawn for you for after you supped. 

Your face burned, because for the first time since you had left your home, you found yourself worrying about your appearance. You could only imagine how dreadful and unbecoming you looked after weeks out in the wild. 

Eyes dipping past the bowl of stew in your grip, you realized for the first time just how filthy you were. Your dress, which had once been a light gray and cream combo was now stained dark, covered in dirt and grime, and your boots were nearly worn straight through from your travels. 

Although you weren’t a true maiden–those didn’t exist in your poor village–you had always tried to take care of yourself and present well, and now that was yet another thing from your former life that you had lost.

The commander easing into the spot beside you broke you from your thoughts. As his arm brushed yours, you realized that you were now pinned between the two largest, most competent looking warriors you had ever seen.

The flare of panic was instant, and strong, and yet… you couldn’t help the curiosity that rose up within you. Trying to be subtle about it, you peeked back and forth on either side of you, amazed by the way that these two men defied what you had always been told–and imagined–about conquerors. 

They did not appear violent nor foul. In fact, they both looked freshly bathed, their clothing much finer than any you had seen before. But you supposed if they were as accomplished and victorious as you had heard about the king’s royal army, then they must want for very little, even in the field.

You glanced around the camp, observing that the other soldiers looked well-fed, their tents in very decent shape. They looked less like a crew of brutal savages and more like a noble party. 

Which only made you feel even more out of place. But you tried your best to push that aside, along with your anxiety and lingering fear, because more than anything–and most importantly–you were famished. As the incredible aroma of the commander’s stew filled your nose, your stomach gurgled loudly, causing the brunette beside you to bark a laugh. 

Cheeks warming with humiliation, you curled in on yourself, cradling the bowl to your chest as you gripped the spoon and began to shovel the stew into your mouth, forgetting your manners entirely. 

“Pace yourself, or your dinner will return before it's even settled in your belly,” the commander chided, but his voice was colored with amusement, his blue eyes sparkling with mirth as he watched you peek over at him as you slowed the pace of your eating. 

“Does our guest have a name?” the brunette asked you. At your hesitation–your fear put on plain display–his gaze softened. “I am Ari, and this is Steve,” he gestured toward the blond. “He is our fearless commander, and I am his irresistibly handsome lieutenant."

The urge to laugh was strong, but you suppressed it, still untrusting of these strangers as you took a moment to chew your food. Swallowing your mouthful, you licked your dry lips before quietly murmuring your name. 

Ari echoed your name in his deep baritone, making your belly flutter for some reason, and you found yourself quickly looking away, as he asked, “What is a woman doing out in the wild all on her own?”

It was as if Ari’s acknowledgement of your circumstances–and he and Steve witnessing your desolate state–made everything more real, made it all come rushing back to you now, as fresh as when it had first happened. You felt the familiar anger and resentment flood you, but you felt a well of shame too as you admitted, “If I did not flee my home, I would have been executed.”

Steve straightened beside you, a tic popping in his jaw as he stared at you for a long, quiet moment before he shared a look with Ari. “Well, now we are quite intrigued, brave one,” he told you.

Ignoring the flutter in your chest at the endearing title, you explained yourself, feeling an unexpected sense of relief as you were allowed to tell your story–your truth–to those willing to listen. 

Even if they were the enemy.

“My betrothed,” you sneered at the mention of him, “defiled my younger sister, so I made sure he would never defile another again. His father, who had bribed my own into the forced union, called for my head for maiming his heir and ending his family line. When it was clear that none would come to my defense nor aid, not even my own kin, I ran.”

There was a long, tense moment of silence once you finished speaking. You could feel the gravity of the situation settle over you–your new burden to bear–as Steve and Ari took a moment to process your tale. 

“We are not so different then,” Ari murmured eventually, sounding impressed by you and what you had done. “Fighting to protect those we love.”

You couldn’t help but scoff. “We are nothing alike. You are conquerors.”

“Conquerors to your people, protectors to ours,” Steve rebutted as you glanced over at him. The corners of his lips curled slightly as he dipped his head to meet your fierce, fiery gaze head on. “I wonder, what shall we be to you, brave one?”

There was something in Steve’s words, something intimate with a touch of impropriety, that had you shivering. That made your breath stutter and catch in your chest as you stared at him, unsure of how to respond. 

It was starting to dawn on you at that moment, that perhaps you weren’t as in danger as you had originally presumed.

Nothing in the way Steve and Ari watched you spoke of violence or ill intent. Your eyes fell to your lap, to the empty dinner bowl cradled in your hands. They had willingly fed you, shared their very own rations with you–a stranger, an exile–and shown you the type of kindness and understanding that not even your own family had been able to muster. 

After everything you had done to protect and avenge your sister.

A well of sorrow at that realization opened deep within you, making your vision swim with the onslaught of tears that you furiously blinked away. Luckily, before you could try to cobble together a response, Steve’s attendant appeared, announcing that your bath was ready. 

“Go on,” Steve encouraged softly, his big hand warming the small of your back as he used the other to take your empty bowl. “You shall have your privacy for as long as you need it.”

Once again, you found yourself staring at him in disbelief. A hot meal in your belly, and now the promise of being clean. It perhaps seemed so small a thing, but to you, right now, after everything you had endured, it was the ultimate luxury. 

The ultimate kindness. 

At the unexpected luck–not doom–that had befallen you, you finally lost the battle with your tears, a few escaping that you quickly batted away as your insides curdled with embarrassment. 

“I’m sorry, I’m just… overwhelmed,” you quavered, slowly rising to your feet, your sore and exhausted body protesting the entire time. 

You took a step before pausing, swaying on your feet as you rung your fingers before you then peeked over your shoulder. Your shy gaze darted from Ari to Steve as you whispered, “Thank you.” 

Ari gave you a big, beaming smile, and Steve? His smile wasn’t as boyish, but it was there, and it was genuine. 

And as you turned to scurry into the tent, you could feel both of their gazes on you the entire time.

You could have spent hours in your bath, well, if the water hadn’t cooled and dirtied so quickly. But by the time you emerged, you felt like a new woman. 

Just as Steve’s attendant had promised, some clothing had been laid out for you at the foot of one of the large beds that filled the space. There were two of them within the tent, as well as the bathing area behind a folding partition, and a small writing desk tucked in the corner. The ground had been covered with an array of rugs, and you took just a moment to allow your bare toes to enjoy the soft warmth beneath your feet instead of the cold, harsh earth you had grown accustomed to over the past couple of weeks.

You dried yourself with a blessedly clean towel before moving toward the clothes awaiting you. You swallowed nervously as you realized it was no more than a long, linen shirt that left your legs bare once you quickly pulled it on. And it was instant, the way you were enveloped in a familiar scent that took your tired brain a moment to realize was Steve’s.

The commander of the king’s royal army himself had let you borrow his clothing. 

Something about the gesture had your insides warming exponentially, had something deep at the core of you fluttering and clenching all at once. 

You supposed after the way your former betrothed had treated you–like a possession to own, not a person–it was flattering to be cared for by another, especially one so fearsome and powerful. 

“Are you decent?”

You startled at the sound of Steve’s voice just outside the tent, flustered now as you glanced down at yourself and saw the way the commander’s shirt both shielded your modesty but draped along your body in a way that felt all too revealing. 

“Um, yes?” you trembled the response.

Not a second later, Ari ducked into the tent, his grin big and boyish as his eyes wandered the length of you without shame. “You sounded so unsure I was hoping you were indecent,” he winked.

You could only gape after him as he moved toward the bed opposite where you stood and started to unbuckle his sword belt. 

“I assure you Ari’s brashness does grow on you,” Steve’s voice was amused as he entered the tent, watching his lieutenant fondly. “Eventually.” Turning his full attention to you, he shifted close, his gaze slowly roving over you. “Feeling better?”

“Much, yes,” you mumbled, hugging yourself tightly as you cleared your throat and stepped away. 

The back of your knees hit the edge of the bed, and you squeaked, flailing for a beat before Steve’s  hands shot out, catching your arms and tugging you upright, flush against him. 

“Careful, brave one,” he hummed, his warm breath washing over your face and making you shiver. 

Steve’s body heat began to seep through the thin shirt you wore, and you couldn’t help it as you shuddered and sank against him further, for you hadn’t been this warm in far too long. It took a moment for your brain to catch up with your actions, and you stiffened.

“Forgive me,” you stuttered, face warm as you tried to pull away, but Steve’s grip held firm. 

“No need for that,” he husked, his hands urging you closer before dipping to frame your waist and making your breath hitch. “You’ve been through so much, it is very understandable that you would seek comfort in another, and I am willing to give it to you.” Steve glanced over your shoulder, at Ari, you assumed, as he confirmed, “We both are.”

Your brain was still processing his words when you felt an undeniable heat at your back. 

“It must be lonely out here all on your own,” Ari breathed, planting his hands on your shoulders and giving them a squeeze. “Especially now with winter soon approaching, with everyone you’ve ever known calling for your head.”

Steve gently backed you into Ari, until you were effectively sandwiched between both men. “We can keep you safe, warm, well fed,” he promised. 

“Well pleasured, too,” you could hear the smile to Ari’s words as you felt them rush past your ear. 

You gasped, your face pinching as you glared up at Steve and hissed, “I am not a whore.”

“We do not claim you to be one, but… you could be ours.”

You blinked at him, uncomprehending, and Steve’s face softened. His touch on your waist shifted, until he was gently rubbing along your sides, his gesture one to soothe. 

“You are not the only one who suffers loneliness,” Steve explained. “We yearn for hearth and home and a warm body to sink into after a fierce battle has been won.”

Ari hummed his agreement, the sound a gritty rumble that had your pussy clenching hard before fluttering. His thumbs dug more deeply into your shoulders, rubbing away the tense knots beneath your skin that had built up from weeks of living in stress and terror, of running on pure adrenaline and betrayal. 

You were overwhelmed, your body feeling more alive–and hyperaware–than it had ever felt before. Although you knew you should have been repulsed by their offer, by what they wanted from you, you weren’t. 

You were flattered, and more so than that, you found yourself wanting, truly and shamelessly, for the first time in your whole life. 

But this was something in which you were not versed–not at all–and you didn’t know truly what they wanted, or what to do. So you confessed as much. 

“I do not know about…  any of this.”

“Then allow us to teach you, sweet one,” Ari whispered, pressing a lingering kiss to the side of your throat. 

At the gentle scrape of his beard against your skin, you shuddered hard, a soft, wounded sound rising up the back of your throat–because you had never been touched like this, nor desired in such a genuine yet carnal way. 

You were wanted, by both of these lethal yet beautiful warriors.

You.

The realization made your head buzz and your body vibrate with anticipation. Yet still, you were afraid of the unknown, your voice an unsure quaver as you asked, “You would… be gentle with me?”

“We do not seek to harm you,” Steve promised, his gaze somehow both earnest and fierce as he met your own. “We seek to make you feel good.”

Ari’s voice was playful as he countered, “Although I have a sense that a fiery one like you may one day ask for a harsher touch.”

The idea alone had you squirming between them, a tickle and gush between your legs causing you to press your thighs together. 

Steve noticed your reaction, something sinful igniting in his gaze as he watched you, as he drank in your blatant yet shy desire. His hand lifted, his knuckles trailing down your cheek in the most gentle caress before his fingers caught your chin and forced your gaze to meet his. 

“May I taste these tempting lips?” 

Once again your breath hitched, and you were nodding before your brain fully processed his words. 

“Good girl,” Steve purred, making your pussy flutter wildly as he slowly leaned in. 

The first touch of his plump lips against your own had a rush of heat flooding through your body, making each and every one of your nerve endings sing as his mouth expertly moved against your own. 

Steve’s hands shifted to cradle your face, his touch as soft as the press of his lips against your own. He was being gentle with you–careful–like you were as precious and delicate as spun glass, and the fact that a revered warrior could treat you in such a way had your emotions welling up once again, as well as a new wave of tears. 

They spilled over before you could prevent them from doing so, and Steve slowly pulled away when he tasted the salt of your tears. 

“Do you want to stop?”

You shook your head so quickly that it made him smile and Ari laugh behind you and give your hips a fond squeeze. 

“No, I am sorry,” you took a breath. “I am just so overwhelmed by… all of this. But… not in a bad way.” 

“Mmm, glad to hear it, sweet one,” Ari rumbled against your shoulder, pressing a kiss there before leaning closer. “Because you have no idea what your scent does to me,” he groaned, tucking his face against the crook of your neck and breathing in deep. 

You gasped, a tiny bit scandalized but also thrilled to have such an effect on him. This was still so new for you–this kind of primal attention, being touched in this way, let alone by two devastatingly handsome strangers who seemed to want you so desperately. 

“Oh,” you mewled as Ari began to press a trail of slow, lingering, open-mouthed kisses along your throat. Your head tipped sideways to make more room for him, to encourage him, your eyes fluttering shut at his attention as your nipples pebbled into hard, achy peaks. 

As if he knew your body so well already, Steve’s hands cupped your hips, slowly gliding up your sides–learning the terrain of your body–before he was gently cupping one of your breasts in each of his hands. 

At his sinful touch, you moaned for the first time ever, arching your back on instinct to press more firmly into Steve’s grip. He rewarded you with a deep, satisfied rumble from the back of his throat, touching his lips to yours for good measure as his fingers plucked your nipples through your shirt until you were keening softly. 

“She makes the sweetest sounds,” Ari groaned, his teeth gently nipping your skin and making you whine. 

“I bet something else is just as sweet,” Steve gristled. 

That was all the warning you got before his hand was sliding beneath the tunic you wore and up your bare thigh. It shamelessly pressed its way between your legs, his knuckles caressing just as gently along your bare cunt as they had your face mere moments before. 

“S-Steve,” you trembled, unable to help it as your thighs pressed shut. 

“Shhh, let me get you ready for us, sweet one,” he whispered against your ear. “I’ll make you feel so good, I promise.” 

You shivered as he pressed a lingering kiss to your temple, making a pleased sound as you released a shaky breath and spread your legs to his questing touch. 

As his fingers teased gentle circles around your clit, you made a soft, breathy sound of surprise, biting your lip and tipping your head back against Ari’s shoulder as your legs opened even wider, encouraging Steve’s sinful touch. 

“There you go,” Steve hummed, drawing his fingers up your slit. “You’re so wet and eager for us already, just like I knew you’d be.” His touch dipped lower, growing more firm, and you gasped as he eased a finger into you slowly, spreading your tight walls for the first time ever as you keened and canted your hips against his lewd invasion. 

“Let him work you open, love,” Ari cooed, banding a thick, muscled arm around your waist to keep you firmly in place as Steve explored your pussy for the first time. “Our swords aren’t the only big weapons we wield." 

You couldn’t help but snort at that, making Steve laugh and grin at you, his eyes crinkling in mirth as you dazedly met his warm gaze. As you stared into each other’s eyes he slowly fucked you with his thick finger, nostrils flaring as you squirmed and rocked against his touch eagerly. 

“I know you can take another, our brave love,” he murmured, easing a second finger in beside the first and making you whine at the unfamiliar yet delicious stretch. “You’re so tight, I know it’ll be like heaven to have you on our cocks.” 

“If we ever get to that point,” Ari nearly whined.

“I thought you enjoyed the build up,” Steve teased, exchanging a heated look with Ari over your shoulder. 

This time, Ari’s huff was wordless, his face dipping to your neck once more. You could feel how shaky his breath was as he inhaled your scent, his free hand finding your ass and giving a squeeze. 

“Perhaps we should take pity on him,” Steve said, his eyes twinkling as they met yours. 

Your mouth dropped open as he moved his fingers inside of you faster–deeper–until you were so wet that an obscene squelching noise filled the tent as you cried out and rutted against his hand, desperately seeking something you couldn’t even name. 

When Steve’s fingers suddenly retreated from your sex, you made a sound of dismay, glaring at the commander as he shot you a wink before painting your pouting lips with your own slick.

“Go on, give him a taste,” he smirked at you. Then he was moving so quickly, that between one blink and the next, you were spun around in Ari’s arms, facing him now. 

You froze at the feral state of him, at the almost predatory way in which he was watching you. He was so much bigger than you–his presence all consuming–as his dark gaze flickered to your gleaming lips.  

Ari swooped in without warning, one of his big hands moving to cradle the back of your head and keep you in place as he kissed you with a kind of ferocity that quite literally stole your breath away. 

You sank against him–helpless against his onslaught–your fingers clutching onto his tunic as Ari deepened the kiss. His tongue invaded your mouth, and he groaned at the taste of you, at the way you whined and went pliant in his hold, surrendering to him completely as you desperately tried to keep up with his feral, frantic kisses. 

When he finally pulled away, you were both panting, and you knew if Ari himself wasn’t holding onto you so tightly, that you would have collapsed to the ground by now, because it felt as if all of your bones had melted. 

“Those pretty lips aren’t the only thing I want to taste,” Ari growled. 

Your eyes widened as he backed you closer to Steve’s bed. The commander himself was now leisurely undressing, his gaze smoldering as he watched Ari deposit you on the foot of the bed and tug you right to the edge as he sank to his knees. 

You didn’t resist as Ari tugged Steve’s tunic from your body, and you listened when he told you to lay back and spread your pretty legs. Despite the way it felt like your face was on fire, and you were as vulnerable as you had ever been in your life, you were excited too as Ari settled himself between your legs. 

His palms were warm and rough–heavy too–as they settled on your inner thighs. He pressed your legs as far apart as they would go, lewdly baring your pussy to his gaze. It was as exhilarating as it was mortifying that he–and Steve–could see just how wet and wanting you were. 

Ari groaned as his thumbs tugged your folds apart, and you keened as he leaned in and dragged his broad tongue up the cut of you. You thrashed against the bed as his tongue laved along your clit, giving another throaty, shocked cry of ecstasy when Ari tugged back the hood of your clit and sucked your sensitive bud between his lips.

You sobbed at the overwhelming pleasure that pulsed through you, hips writhing as Ari feasted on you without shame. He lapped at you eagerly, without relent, until your body was trembling with your first ever orgasm, and all the breath evaporated from your lungs as a result. Each and every muscle in your body seized at once as you crested the wave of ecstasy, and when Ari hummed his approval, everything inside of you fluttered and clenched as one. 

“God, look at how pretty you are when you let go,” Ari murmured, not taking pity on your boneless, dazed state as he shoved two thick fingers inside of you, and started working you all over again. 

“Ari!” you whined, trying to twist away–because it was so much–but then Steve was sitting above you on the bed, naked and giving you a soft smile and quiet tut as he gathered both of your hands in one of his before pinning your wrists above your head. 

“Let him have his fun, sweet one, he fought and won a very hard battle today after all.” 

You opened your mouth, but all that came out was a pitiful moan as Ari curled his fingers and started to rub a spot inside of you that you didn't even know existed until now. Your body arched violently as you came, so hard, in fact, that you gushed all over Ari’s hand and wrist, nearly sobbing at the overwhelming pleasure. 

“Mmm, I had a feeling,” his grin was wolfish as it flickered up the length of you before meeting Steve’s lustful gaze. “Look at how sensitive and responsive this pretty pussy is.” 

As if putting on a show, Ari’s fingers retreated from you, and he once against tugged up the hood of your clit with one hand while using the other to rub back and forth so quickly–and effectively–that you were once again orgasming hard, your body writhing and gushing as you were rocked by another wave of intense carnal delight. 

“I think I've effectively warmed her up for you, commander,” Ari grinned. He gave your puffy pussy a soft pat before finally pulling away and giving you a moment to try to catch your breath. 

“As always, your hard work and dedication are much appreciated,” Steve drawled, his voice much lower and huskier than before. 

It had your insides fluttering and standing to attention despite the way it felt as if you had lost all control over your body–your bones liquified from Ari’s feral and thorough attention.

Which is why you were somewhat relieved when Steve shifted over you, and instead of focusing all of his attention on the warm, wet place between your legs, he instead smoothed a hand over your head, lightly touching his lips to yours in a fleeting kiss. 

You blinked up at him, your gaze glossy and almost helpless in a way that had a warm smile curling his lips and something in his eyes going tender. 

Steve’s thumb traced along your cheek, his lips touching the other in another show of unexpected tenderness that had a soft sigh rising up your throat. He turned your face so he could trail his lips along the hinge of your jaw, then he was kissing his way down the side of your throat, purring his delight as you squirmed beneath him. 

Steve took his time as he touched and tasted you, almost methodical in the way he descended your body, on a different kind of quest now as he paid you gentle attention until he could see some of the tension and overwhelm ease from your frame. 

You didn’t realize you were fisting the furs at either side of you until Steve’s hands gently loosened your grip. He eased your arms up, thumbs rubbing circles into your palms until your arms went lax above your head and your eyes fluttered at yet another blessed release. 

You sank further into the bed as Steve pressed your legs apart and settled more heavily against you. It was a different kind of delight to feel his firm, naked body flush to your own. 

You realized it quite suddenly–how safe you felt despite being so out of your depth and doing something so tawdry and unknown to you, with not one but two near strangers. 

You hadn’t known Steve or Ari for long at all, but they had shown you more care and kindness in this one evening than you had received in your entire life. There was an earnestness to them, too, and even though it didn’t make sense, for some reason that you couldn’t explain–one that was more instinctual than anything–you trusted them both.

And you knew it in the deepest part of your being–that they were good men. 

So you weren’t surprised at all when Steve nuzzled his nose along your cheek, his lips seeking your ear to murmur, “Are you able to endure more tonight, sweet one? Or have you had your fill? This beautiful body of yours seems boneless and well-ravished already, and we would not take advantage of you in such a vulnerable state. Say the word, and we will leave you to rest.”

Even though you could feel how much Steve wanted you–could feel the hard, hot press of him searing into the skin of your belly–you knew that he would retreat now, and Ari too, if you requested it. 

Which only made you want them–and want to pleasure them–more. 

“I don’t want to rest now, I want more,” you replied, feeling shy but forcing yourself to meet Steve’s gaze so he could see the truth shining in your eyes. “I want you, and I want Ari, and I want you both to take what you want from me.”

“Such a greedy thing,” Ari teased as he sank onto the bed above your head, sprawling adjacent to you and Steve. 

“And if we want everything?” Steve playfully challenged, allowing his weight to sink against you completely so you could feel all of him. “Would you give it to us?”

“Yes.”

“You are a gift,” Steve husked as he slowly drew his thumb along your lower lip. “One I would covet more than anything else, even a hard-fought victory.”

You swore your heart skipped a beat at Steve’s declaration, your eyes fluttering shut as he dipped close and kissed you slowly, ardently, making sure you felt just how genuine his words were.

When he pulled away, his eyes were the darkest you had seen yet. You shuddered as anticipation raced through you as he moved a hand between your bodies, his fingers drawing along your slit, ensuring you were wet and ready for him. 

Your breath caught when he dragged his hard, heavy cock along your bare cunt, coating himself with your arousal. You squirmed as he lined himself up with your entrance, holding your breath as his hips shifted, and he slowly began to push into you. 

The whimper spilled from your lips before you could suppress it. And not so much from any true pain you felt, but from the sheer strangeness of your body being invaded in this way. 

“Relax, sweet one,” Ari murmured over you, gently petting your head. His touch shifted to your shoulder, giving a squeeze that had you sinking into the furs beneath you and going a bit more pliant. “There you are. It may hurt for a tick, but he’ll make it worth it, just wait and see.”

You knew he was right, so you tried to focus less on the temporary discomfort and more on Steve himself. How big and broad he was–how strong. How gorgeous. The way his nostrils flared when you involuntarily clenched around him, and the weight of his warm palm on your lower belly as he pressed his touch there before his thumb reached down and began to strum your clit. 

“Oh!” you gasped at the added stimulation, your thighs falling further open and your hips shifting in a way that had Steve sinking into you even more. 

He groaned loudly, and it made your pussy flutter wildly, which only made him grunt as he draped himself over you, until your head was framed between his muscled forearms as his hips finally met yours, and he settled within you to the hilt. 

“I was right,” Steve breathed as he dropped his forehead to yours. “Utter heaven.” His lips teased your own, his hips shifting slightly and making you moan at just how full you were, for the first time ever. “Alright?”

You nodded, swallowing hard. Tentatively, you reached for Steve, your hands touching his sides, feeling how soft his skin was, how warm. Your touch gently skimmed higher, and you felt a swell of pride as Steve shuddered in response, because you affected him so. 

Gently, Steve began to rock his hips, moving inside of you with shallow thrusts that had your body lighting up and desperate for me. 

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” Steve panted against the crook of your neck, burying his face there for a beat as he gave a particularly deep rut that made you gasp. “M’sorry–”

“No! Again, please,” you whined, your fingers digging into his bare flesh more firmly as you curled your legs around his hips and urged him closer. “Please, Steve, I need… I need more.”

“Go on, commander, our girl can take it,” Ari purred, sprawling backwards and tucking his hands behind his head, getting more comfortable so he could enjoy the show. “Give it to her good.”

Groaning, Steve lifted his head to meet your gaze, swallowing hard as you nodded in encouragement. He shifted over you, planting one of his hands beside your head to give him more leverage, and then he was sliding out of you almost entirely before fully sheathing himself inside of you again with a slow, deep thrust. 

You keened in response, pleasure ricochetting through your body as you threw your head back and begged for more. 

Steve gave it to you, losing that stoic composure of his little by little, with each new thrust inside your tight, wet heat, with every one of your sweet, wrecked sounds. When his thumb once against found your clit and began to rub, you sobbed his name as you went rigid, your body bowing and jostling as Steve began to fuck you with enthusiasm. 

His free hand slid to your side, then beneath you, lifting your body against his in a way that had his cock delving into you deeper, and at the perfect angle. With each rut of his hips, you cried out in delight, shoving against him desperately–shamelessly eager for more–until everything inside of you detonated at once, your body trembling and writhing as you found your release. 

Steve hissed as you clenched around him hard, setting you back down against the bed so he could frame your hips with his large hands and hold you steady as he pounded into you, chasing his own release now. He gave a wordless shout as he reached his climax, throwing his head back, lost to his own bliss as he buried himself as deep inside of you as possible and throbbed within you, until your cunt was flooded with his warm, creamy seed. 

Panting, Steve sank to his hands and knees, hovering over you for a long moment as you gasped for breath beneath him. You couldn't help it as you reached for him, trailing your fingers up the flexed muscles of his forearm, his bulging bicep, until your touch was cradling his smooth cheek and aiming his dark, satisfied gaze your way. 

He stared at you for a beat before nearly lunging at you, his lips almost frantic against your own as he cupped your cheek and kissed you in a way that was almost as filthy as what the two of you had just done together. 

“You’re incredible,” Steve breathed against your lips. Stealing a final parting kiss before slowly pulling away. His smile was soft as you struggled to meet his gaze, his fingers falling to briefly lace with your own and give a squeeze before he shifted away. 

You enjoyed the sight of Steve’s naked body flexing and moving as he crossed the tent to clean himself up, and before you could fully pout as he disappeared behind the privacy partition, Ari was reaching for you. 

You squealed at just how easily he manhandled you as he rolled you onto your belly and hovered over your back for a moment. 

“I have a very specific way I want you, sweet one,” he rumbled against your ear, giving it a nip and laughing at your squeak. 

He gave your ass a soft spank before tugging you up onto your knees, but when you tried to get your hands beneath you, too, he tutted, big hand collaring the back of your neck and giving a squeeze that made you go still. 

“No, like this,” he murmured, pressing your face back down into the furs beneath you, until your sweaty cheek was against the bed, and your pussy was fluttering at the lewd position you were now in–your ass up and on full display as Ari moved behind you. 

His hands smoothed over the bare curve of your ass, gripping both your cheeks and making you jiggle in a way that had your face flooding with heat, but your pussy gushing too. 

“You are the embodiment of temptation,” he husked, pressing your legs further apart to make room for his massive body. “I can’t wait to fill you with my cock.” 

“Then do it,” you blurted, making Ari bark a laugh. 

“Brat,” he chuckled, giving your ass another smack and earning a moan from you for his effort. “Oh, we will definitely explore that more another time.”

Your belly fluttered at the sinful promise–at the fact that he was thinking of you as part of his future–but then all thoughts in your mind seemed to evaporate as you felt the thick, spongy head of Ari’s cock press against your drippy hole. 

His groan as he slowly pushed into you was loud and shameless and made your cunt flutter up a storm. You moaned as he pressed into you even deeper, taking his time to fill you up, his breath coming out in a harsh pant once he bottomed out and made you keen in the process. 

“Fuck,” he gritted, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as he gave a rut that had him somehow sinking into you even deeper. 

“Divine, isn’t she?” Steve gristled as he sauntered back into sight and perched on the side of the bed closest to you. He was still naked, his cock no longer gleaming with a combination of both your cums, but half-hard again already. 

His fingers touched your cheek, and you mewled, your lips parting on a harsh gasp as Ari began to really fuck you. 

“She is,” he grunted as he drove into you hard, groaning as you keened softly and clenched around his cock like a fist. “A gift, just like you said, our gift, all ours,” he babbled as his head fell forward, chin touching his chest as he lost himself to his pleasure. 

“I’ve never seen him so undone,” Steve grinned at you, gaze soft as your lashes fluttered and you tried to fight against the urge to close your eyes and surrender to your bliss. 

But Steve painted such a tempting picture, his body gleaming in the afterglow, his cheeks still a bit ruddy, and his hair flopping over his forehead. But it was the warmth in his gaze as he watched you that had you whining in a different kind of desperation as you reached for him, needing to touch him, to feel him, even as Ari unraveled you entirely. 

“Look at how sweet and needy you are,” Steve teased, meeting your outstretched fingers with his own and twining them together. His face grew more serious as he ducked closer to you, eyes blazing with determination as he told you, “From here on out, you will want for nothing.”

“Do you mind?” Ari huffed, groaning as his pace slowed and he shoved into you hard, lingering in your delectable warmth. He half-heartedly glared at Steve, but you could hear the tinge of amusement to his words as he said, “Save your sweet promises for after I’ve fucked her. You’ve already had your turn. Now it’s mine.”

Laughing, Steve raised his hands in playful surrender, giving your head a final pet before leaning down to kiss your cheek. “And you want Ari to fuck you, too, don’t you, sweet one? You want him to fill you with his seed, just like I did, huh?”

“Yes!” you gasped, fluttering at the thought of feeling it again–being flooded with the warmth of another’s pleasure, from you. “Please! Please, Ari.”

“You heard her, lieutenant," Steve purred, shifting so he could recline on the bed above you. He gave Ari a cheeky smile over your head. “Fill her with your cream. She’ll look so pretty leaking both our cum out of that tight well-fucked hole of hers.”

“Christ,” Ari gritted. 

You moaned as you felt his cock throb inside of you at Steve’s words, your eyes slamming shut as Ari gripped your hips and started to rut into you wildly. 

He had enough presence of mind to dip his hand beneath your body and work your clit, moaning as you came with a shaky cry of ecstasy and pulsed around his cock as your own pleasure swept you away. 

“Take it,” Ari snarled, curling over your back and completely blanketing your body with his as he hammered into you. The obscene sound of your pussy squelching each and every time his cock drove into you filled the tent, but it was the gravelly, wrecked state of Ari’s voice as he chanted, “Take it, take it, take it, every last drop,” as he fucked you that had your body trembling with one last orgasm, and it finally tipped Ari over the edge, too. 

He moaned into your shoulder as he came, burying himself as deep inside your cunt as he could. You could feel his cock swell before he was flooding you with his spend, and you moaned brokenly as the squelching grew louder. Your cheeks warmed as you felt his cum–and your own, and probably Steve’s too–leaking out around Ari’s cock as he gave a few final thrusts before finally going still. 

He was breathing harshly, his body as slick with sweat as your own and plastered to you, but it was a strange sort of comfort, being with Ari in the aftermath, feeling him as undone as you were, and sharing this moment with him. 

You couldn’t help but smile, giving a tired giggle as Ari muttered, “You’re an angel and a devil all rolled into one.” You hummed in agreement as he pressed a kiss to your cheek, pouting as he carefully pulled away from you, then out of you, before sinking back on his haunches. 

He gave an appreciative whistle as he watched the sizeable gush trickle out of you, and when you gave a huff and tried to roll away, he grabbed you, easily holding you in place with one hand while he used the other to scoop up the evidence of your debauchery and shoved it back inside you, laughing as you squealed. 

“Who’s the brute now?” Steve admonished, swatting Ari away from you before gently easing you onto your side. “I hope you’re prepared to deal with his nonsense, it’s endless.”

Your smile was tired but amused as your gaze flickered from Steve to Ari, who flopped down on the bed beside you, looking very chuffed and shameless as his sticky cock softened against his thigh. 

Steve caught the direction of your gaze, and he smirked at you, chuckling as you whined softly before burying your face into the furs to hide. “I can’t tell if you’re eager for more or appalled at the messy state of him.”

“I’d wager both,” Ari snickered. 

You felt the bed shift, and after a moment, Steve’s touch was on your back, gentle and reassuring as he leaned over you. “Let me clean you up before you sleep.”

You didn’t resist as he did just that, your belly swooping at the extreme care with which Steve wiped the mess from between your legs. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, struggling to keep your eyes open, but glad you caught a glimpse of Steve folding the cloth over and tossing it at Ari. 

“Make yourself decent or you’ll be sleeping by yourself tonight,” he chided with exasperation. 

“Why don’t you come over here and clean me yourself, commander?” Ari grinned wickedly, waggling his eyebrows as he caught your sleepy gaze and winked, “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

He laughed as your eyes widened and you peeked between the two of them, pressing your thighs together as the thought of them being intimate–without you–made your insides swoop and spark with a new and different kind of heat. 

Steve just shook his head, seeming more amused than anything as he went around the tent and blew out the few lanterns keeping the space alight. Leaving just one nearby glowing softly, he carefully climbed into bed beside you, smoothing a hand over your head as you snuggled into his side. 

A beat later, you felt the bed shift as Ari moved closer, pressing himself flush to your back. His lips found your bare shoulder, planting a soft kiss against your skin before his hand drifted to rest at your hip, making you feel enveloped completely. 

And safer than you had felt in a very long time. 

You felt the kind of safety that, just a couple of weeks ago, you would have thought impossible, especially for you, especially after everything.

But you were experiencing it now, genuinely, despite all that had led you here this night, and the revelation had you softly murmuring, “Protectors.”

“What’s that, brave one?” Steve hummed, his fingers trailing along your cheek as you sleepily blinked over at him. 

“To me, you shall be protectors,” you elaborated, answering his question from earlier in the evening.  “Although I dare say you have both conquered my body and claimed it as your own.”

“Then for you, and you alone, we shall be both,” Steve smiled, tweaking your nose and making you smile. 

“And we shall watch over our new favorite territory as you rest now, sweet love,” Ari rumbled at your back, his voice thick with sleep as he gave your hip a gentle squeeze before burying his face against your neck and going still. 

Giving a sigh of content, you allowed your tired eyes to drift shut at last. It wasn’t long at all before you finally fell asleep–warm, wanted, and well protected–your heart aglow with hope and the deep knowing that a life on the run, or alone in the wild, was no longer something you needed to worry about. 

Not anymore.

And not ever again.

It was actually a bit of a challenge writing this after going almost a month without writing and having lost my spark, but overall I’m really pleased with how it turned out. I’d love to know your thoughts and reactions! Thanks so much for reading ❤️

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You had been collecting in the forest since you were old enough to walk, trailing after your mother and grandmother, learning the difference between the bluebells that gave you headaches and the white wood sorrel that soothed them, the shapes of roots that would clot blood, and the berries that would stop a heart. But as you gathered elements into the basket on your arm, the familiar paths felt different. The knife tucked in the fold of your skirt was less for harvesting and more for caution after the fear that had taken root since the maiden from your village went missing.

You yourself sensed a difference in the forest—a heaviness to the air, the moss a little gray, the birds silent in the middle of the day, a wariness that seemed to rise from the soil itself, urging you back. But you were determined. You and your mother and your mother’s mother before her supplied the village with many medicines and balms that were not commonplace, not trusted by everyone, but were integral to many.

The lake at the edge of the trees was swollen with rain and the melting snow, the water so high that it had eaten half the lower meadow. You would have to cross damp ground and pick your way over drowned logs. And you did, pressing on until you reached the stunted willow on the northernmost part of the shore, where you knew the wild violets would bloom first. You were the only moving thing in the marsh, a fact that landed with an unnerving weight. Your own breath seemed to fog the air, as if you had walked into a story from before time.

You were kneeling, fingers plucking and gathering the papery layer of new leaves from a cluster of green, when you heard a splash. Not a fish jumping, but something large breaking through the skin of the water. Your hands went still against the leaves and you stood, knife steady in your hand, and you forced yourself not to imagine the threat.

You scanned the underbrush and waited as your mother had taught you, letting your breath go thin and quiet. That was when you spotted the man, tall with broad shoulders, a deep chest, and limbs that were unquestionably strong and formidable.

As if sensing your gaze, his head turned your way, and he locked eyes with you. He didn’t move right away. You watched how his hands hung at his sides, open, the fingers stained with earth and perhaps something darker, though at this distance you could not be sure. His hair was a mix of golden chestnut and birch, and his face was clean-shaven. There was something unusual in the way he stood, something not-quite-human in the perfect symmetry of his features, the strong jawline, his shockingly blue eyes.

You did not call out. There was no one for miles and if this shape was a threat, it wasn’t the kind that would be cowed by a girl’s bluff. Instead you held your position and waited, the knife a cold certainty in your grip.

He moved toward you, nothing hesitant in his approach. The sodden earth gave under his feet, the water lapping at his calves. As he drew closer, he seemed to grow, revealing a height you hadn’t realized, solid muscle beneath the strange patchwork of clothes, brambles clinging to the rough fabric of his jacket. His eyes didn’t blink, glass-bright and inhumanly clear and blue, and they looked you over with curiosity as if measuring your resistance.

He spoke first, and the voice was all wrong: too deep, carrying a timbre like wind in a dead trunk, creaking and full of hollow space. “You’ve come further into the forest than others have in weeks,” he said. “You’re not afraid.”

There was no question in his words. You found your tongue regardless. “I have reason to be cautious, but I’m not afraid, no. I know this forest.”

The man—if he was a man—cocked his head, smiling in a way that made you think of a wolf in sunlight: beautiful, hungry, and so unbothered by your blade it might as well have been a thorn.

“What a curious thing to say,” he remarked. “You think you know the forest, but you cannot possibly know all its secrets, and the forest does not always agree with you.”

You had no answer to that, not one that would make him believe you. “I only mean that I know enough,” you said. “Enough to respect it.”

He stalked a slow circle, just beyond the reach of your knife yet always within lunging distance. An old, deep instinct in you recognized this dance, this patient assessment before a strike.

“You are the daughter of healers,” he said, “the one who finds bones and stones and wild remedies for the sick. You think you are unseen, but the forest always has eyes.” He stooped then, picking up a half-buried stone and turning it over in his palm. The hands, you noticed, were not quite right. The fingers were a shade too long, the skin thick and tight over the bones and veins. “Your presence is noticed. Even now, when you twist violets and dockweed in your clever hands.”

You recalled your grandmother’s lessons: never admit a name, never turn your back, never let a stranger dictate the space between you. “Then you know I am no threat to you or yours,” you said, and made yourself believe it, even as your heart raced. “The forest has given me its blessing,” you lied.

Something shifted in him then—not in his expression, exactly, but in the quality of his stillness, the way a predator goes motionless not from patience but from decision. “Your ancestors were blessed because of their bargains,” he said, weighted and deliberate. “They made their pacts and honored them. The land was shaped by their bargains, just as they were shaped by the land. But your generation—” he trailed off, gesturing at the bruised sky, the muddy water, the hush where birds used to cry. “No agreement has been struck. No tribute paid. The exchange must continue, or the balance will tip.”

“What exchange?” you demanded, pulse quickening.

“It has given many things to your kind,” he replied, pronouncing ‘your kind’ with a curious, almost academic detachment, “but there is always a toll, and it is different for each generation.”

“My mother still leaves honey in the hollows; it is a tradition I can continue.”

He shook his head, movement clipped, as if the neck itself was bored with the charade of human flesh. “Tokens are not tribute.” His tone was not cruel, only factual, and you realized, with a cold bloom in your belly, how many kinds of hunger there were in the world. “There is a price for the peace your village enjoys. Something must pass from you to the forest, same as it ever was.”

You tried to parse this—what your forebears had truly given, what they had perhaps hidden in their stories. “What price did the forest ask of them?”

“Your mother was clever enough to ask for nothing but safe passage between the trees. She left offerings. She did not take more than she needed. Your grandmother,” he paused, and here a ripple of amusement crossed his face, “your grandmother made a more interesting bargain.”

The wind pressed through the grasses, flattening the young reeds against the mud. A memory stirred—a story your mother told in the hush before sleep, stories half-forgotten. But his voice cut through the past, speaking the words you were beginning to recall.

“Your grandmother was greedy. She wanted safe passage and she wanted the voice of birds, the green touch, the sense for what flourished and what would die. She wished to heal but also to know when healing was hopeless, in her own marrow. Understand: the forest cannot birth a gift without first devouring the seed. When your grandmother asked, she gave up her dreams.”

You remembered the quiet unease of her sleep, the way she would doze sitting up, hands braided in her lap, or walk the lanes of her mind in silence for hours. She never dreamt or, if she did, she never remembered. You’d always assumed it was age—some feature of withered time. But even as a child you’d known there were no stories or nightmares waiting for you in her lap, only the faint comfort of her skin and the steady thrum of her heart.

You looked at the man—or the not-man—standing so tall his shadow cut the lake in two. His words hung between you, like frost in early spring, uncertain and unwilling to melt.

“What are you?” you asked.

He smiled, and it was as if a branch bent and split under its own weight. “I am not the forest, but I am of the forest. Some call me Waldgeist—the spirit of the green. I walk the trees as you walk your own paths. I am the mind that grows beneath the bark, the will curled in every root. You have seen me before, though not with these eyes.” He stated it not as a boast, but as a simple fact that had always been true.

You swallowed, tongue dry as birch. You remembered not just the old tales, but the feeling itself—a shadow in your childhood room that was too tall, a silence in the woods that felt like a held breath. You remembered the certainty, even then, that you were never truly alone among the trees.

“Why do you look like a man, then?” you asked, pulse quickening. “Why come to me at all?”

He shrugged, a gesture that sent a ripple through the nearby trees. “I take a form you can understand. “A bargain must be struck between equals; this shape makes us so. I am here to collect.”

The words buckled the hush between you. You clutched the basket closer to your chest and kept the knife steady, but you knew, in some deep, marrow-knowing way, that neither would help you if he truly intended harm.

“What will the forest take from me?”

His blue eyes shifted, and with the next blink you saw the gold in them, as though some animal watched from behind the skin of a man. “That is for you to decide. You may attempt to make a bargain, if you wish. Or you may leave now and accept what the forest will claim in time.”

“Has the forest not already laid its claim by taking one of our young women?”

He did not answer right away. Instead, his lips thinned, losing all softness, and the blue of his eyes darkened like a storm. For a moment, he became as implacable as the roots beneath the soil. When he did speak, his voice was careful, measured, as if you had stumbled onto a delicate membrane between two worlds.

“That was not my doing,” he said. “The lake has its own demands, its own bargains. It is not forest.”

The words struck you as both a warning and a promise, a declaration that the world was layered in negotiations far more ancient than the bargains of your ancestral line.

He glanced down at the bruised violets shivering at your feet. “The creatures that dwell in water are older and stranger and more varied than you can imagine.” His eyes found yours again. “Do not worry for the lost girl. Her fate is with the water. Your business is with me.”

You gathered the violets into your palm, feeling an ache in your fingers as if the mere act of picking a flower now implicated you in an ancient cycle of debt. The Waldgeist waited, patient and unobtrusive, but you felt the pressure of his presence, the sense that the moment for negotiation was finite and slipping away like dandelion seeds on the wind.

“If I try to bargain,” you finally said, forcing your voice to work, “will you truly honor it?”

“I have always honored my contracts,” he said plainly.

You squared yourself and let your breath settle. Out here, feeling small amongst a vast web of nature, you managed a plainness you hoped was strength. “If my grandmother gave up her dreams, and my mother only left honey, what do you want of me?”

“Each generation pays a new price,” he said. “The forest never takes the same thing twice. It adapts. It learns.” The Waldgeist, the not-man, walked nearer. “You come to this place for the plants that nurture your people. You heal, but healing is only one side of the balance—life and death, and the line between them. I want the possibility that both can flourish.” He let the words flower in the air between you. He continued, “The forest wants to plant its seed in your womb. It wants you to swell with its green life, to birth the next guardian from your own blood and breath.”

The air left your lungs all at once. Your body as tribute. Your womb as a clearing for the next green thing. You had imagined many prices—your sight, your voice, your years—but not this. This was so much more intimate, more invasive, than you’d ever imagined. But as you stood in the hush, with the Waldgeist’s gaze upon you, you sensed he was not mocking. Not even predatory, not in the way of men, though the need in him was elemental and absolute. It was the same law that pulled the river to the lake.

“The only thing you have to offer that’s of any interest to me,” he said, his voice lowering to the hum of sap rising in the spring, “is that sweet, warm place between your legs.”

It wasn’t even a vulgarity, the way he said it. If anything, it was a kind of reverence—a hunger for the continuity that pulsed under everything alive. But a hot flush crawled up your neck, and your hands clenched the fabric of your skirt so hard you felt stems of violets snap between your knuckles. The leaves in the trees did not shudder. The entire forest waited, patient and unashamed.

He lifted his chin, as if he had tasted the shape of your resistance, and made clear that there was no shame or cruelty in the offer—only the certainty of the seasons, the calm of a thing that had always been true. “You may refuse,” he said, “and if you do, the forest will find another way to balance what has been taken from it. But should you choose to accept, you may name your own terms. I will match them if I can. If you wish to leave this place with no bargain, as I said you could earlier, I will not hinder you. The path out is always open, though it may not lead you back the way you came.”

You swallowed, the reality of the choice settling like a stone in your gut. He would not touch you—he had offered that dignity. You could walk away, unchanged, and let the seasons turn. But a different kind of cold crept in at the thought: the forest, left to its own devices, drawing its tribute in some slow, unpredictable, and perhaps far crueler way.

You looked up at him—the way he stood entirely at ease, as if a body was just a garment to be worn when convenient. The blood-and-earth in his veins seemed almost visible, his presence an axis on which the wind and the water now turned.

“What is your name?” you asked.

He did not hesitate, but you sensed the concept of a single name was foreign to him. “I have no name your tongue could form,” he said. “But your people have need of them. There was one who called me Steve.” The word landed, dry and spare. “You may use it, if you wish.”

It was so ordinary, so unburdened with myth. You turned the name over in your mind—smooth, plain, almost laughably small. Children did this, you remembered: named the thing under the bed to make it small. But the trees did not shrink. The wind did not shrink. And neither did he.

“Steve.”

What a small name for such a vast thing.

Something moved in his face—not a smile, not quite. The corners of his mouth drew back the way bark splits open in heat. “If you ask for a name,” he said, “I gather you agree.”

Your heart twisted, then steadied, and you nodded.

Steve stepped through the reeds and the cold lake water, the space between you closing until you could smell the wildness on him, the sharp green tang of willow bark and moss. He stopped with his face a hair’s breadth from yours, searching you with those ice-blue, wild eyes. As Steve leaned in, his gaze flicked from your mouth to your eyes, measuring your anticipation and fear with the patience of a tree waiting for the wind.

He lowered his head, tendrils of his hair brushing your cheek, and the animal warmth of his skin woke every nerve, every inch of scalp and spine. He waited, poised, until your chin tipped upward, an invitation.

The tip of his nose nearly grazed yours, and you could see the sweep of gold and green in his irises.

“Your kind,” he said, the syllables vibrating just above your jaw, “often begin their coupling with a kiss. Would that please you?”

You did not know what you expected—a command, a taking, some gesture of force, but his hands hovered at your waist, not touching, not yet, as if some ancient etiquette held him back until you gave consent.

You met his gaze, the question hanging between you. This was the first step, the seal on a pact you barely understood. The instinct to flee warred with a curiosity that held you fast. “Yes,” you breathed, the word both a surrender and a choice. “I would like to be kissed.”

You felt the air shift, the certainty of the woods folding up around you. You had imagined your first kiss as a hush in the honeyed dark, a stolen moment behind a barn or beneath the hush of twilight. You had not imagined the sensation of a mouth as wild and strange as the lake wind, nor the certainty of a hand—large, warm, with fingers a shade too long—drawing you in. Steve cupped your jaw, his thumb spanning the distance from cheekbone to chin, and when he bent his head, there was no trembling or hesitation—only a gentleness so deliberate that you understood, even through your shock, how hard he worked to contain himself.

His lips were cooler than you’d expected, but they pressed to yours with a strange, melting pressure that drew the air from your lungs in one startled, high gasp. Your knees gave, not from weakness, but as if the ground itself had softened beneath you. His other hand closed around your upper arm, bracing, the grip light but immovable, like the gentle crook of a branch against a windstorm. The kiss was not the fluttery, weightless thing you’d read about in stories—it was a gravity, a falling through the earth. His touch radiated from your jaw to the soles of your boots, a hot, heady rush that left you breathless.

You let your basket fall, soft, to the mud and reeds. The knife fell from your loosening grip, but you did not care, not with his hands now cupping your face and the tangle of your hair wrapped around his knuckles.

Steve’s kiss was a demand and a question, and you felt yourself answering in the way your mouth parted for him, in the soft gasp that escaped you when his hand slid—firm, careful—down your neck to the slope of your shoulder. There was a steadiness to the way he touched you, as if he already knew you would break otherwise. When you shivered, he drew you nearer, until your body was bracketed by the length of him, the heat of him, the certainty.

Steve coaxed your mouth open further, the velvet of his tongue not so much probing as mapping. He kissed you with such unwavering patience that you began to ache, not from fear now, but from wanting the next gesture enough to hurt.

Your hand found his hair, feeling the strange, thrumming life under your palm—a rhythm denser and more vital than any human's. There was an ancient knowledge in the kiss, yet beneath it, a clumsy hunger, a desperate restraint. You felt his effort to keep from overwhelming you, and it sparked an unexpected tenderness.

His mouth relented, drawing back only enough that he could see how your face looked in the aftermath. You opened your eyes, though you found no words behind your teeth, only air and a low, helpless sound of longing. He smiled, a gentle recalibration of his features, as if observing minor marvels.

Steve’s gaze was so intent you had to look away, but his hand coaxed your jaw to center, thumb brushing over your lower lip as if to see how much of you he had changed already. “You are doing very well,” he said, his voice low and calm, the kind you’d use to soothe a frightened deer at the forest’s edge.

He cradled your wrist, and you saw the knots of lichen just under his skin, veins running wilder than any human’s. He gestured to the bare ground, and from the mud a fresh cluster of violets bloomed in an instant. He plucked one and tucked it behind your ear with a reverence that made you feel like the forest’s own altar.

Steve guided you backwards, his steps gentle and unhurried, until the soft earth gave beneath your boots and you realized the ground itself had changed. The waterlogged moss and churned mud had, in the span of a breath, thickened and risen into a plush, living mattress of green that welcomed the weight of your body as he guided you down. The rush of green scent was dizzying, a perfume of leaf-break, and violets, and deep, wet bark. You braced yourself on your elbows, startled by the way the bed molded around you.

Steve knelt in front of you, balanced and quiet, his hands braced on either side of your hips. The air around you felt altered, denser, each sound of the forest amplified, as if the world had shrunk to only the patch of earth the two of you occupied. He watched you for a long moment, letting you breathe, or maybe just savoring the fear that had turned itself, somewhere in the last dozen heartbeats, to anticipation. He leaned on his hands and bent toward you, the whole scaffold of his body arranged with an a predator’s poise that sent a shiver through your blood.

“Are you afraid?” he asked, his voice low enough that you felt it more than heard it, a vibration that moved from your jaw down through your sternum.

“Yes,” you said, and then, as if your hand had its own will, you reached up and touched the side of his face. “But not—not the way I was before.”

Steve’s answering smile was frightening in its understanding. “That is good,” he said. “Fear makes everything sharp and honest.”

His hands were impossibly strong at your hips, the pressure just shy of command. One moved up your ribcage, charting the landscape of your bones. You gasped at the intimacy, and at the strange paradox of feeling safe. You sensed he would not take what was not offered, even as you knew he could take anything he wished.

He bent his head again but this time his mouth pressed not to your lips but to the angle of your jaw, your ear, the frantic beat hidden shallow under the skin. The weight of him, looming, should have been terrifying, but instead you were frayed with a kind of anticipation that would not have been out of place on the cusp of a summer storm. You forced your hands not to tremble as you cupped the back of his neck and felt the heat of his skin. Steve’s breath was cool on your neck, the hint of it unsettlingly gentle. You tipped your head back, a motion of surrender you didn’t recognize as your own, and he followed the column of your throat to the hollow at its base, then lower, to the line of buttons fastening your blouse.

He made a sound, not quite human, almost a purr or a buzz, and pressed his face against your sternum as if he could inhale your very shape. His hands, so careful at your ribs, curved around your waist with a certainty that left you breathless. He did not tug at your clothes. Instead, he pressed his face to the thin linen and breathed you in, as if scent itself was the substance of desire.

Your mind reeled. The other girls’ whispers, your mother’s warnings—they all spoke of pain, of a force to be survived. You had braced for a claiming, but Steve’s hands seemed to know nothing of that script. The warmth that bloomed low in your belly was not fear, but a bewildering curiosity. He brought his fingers to the top button of your blouse, unfastening it with a patience that was its own kind of power, pressing a kiss to each new inch of skin. The sensation was like a lightning strike, and your spine arched involuntarily.

He paused then, waiting, gaze fixed on your face as if he required your permission at every increment. You nodded, or maybe whimpered—whatever escaped you was enough for him to continue, and the next button, and the next, his fingers working each button loose without ever scraping your skin or snagging a hair. Only when your sternum and the pale slope of your breasts were exposed to the soft, damp air did he let the backs of his knuckles brush you, not quite a caress, more a sampling. Steve’s lips and hands traveled the exposed skin, tracing the hollow of your clavicle, the soft undersides of your breasts, his mapping every new inch as if memorizing a terrain he might never traverse again.

When his mouth closed around your nipple, you jerked, startled as if pricked by a holly leaf, but the wet heat had you keening the next instant. Steve groaned low in his chest, and the sound was so animal you felt it thrumming through your bones. His mouth was soft and deliberate, his tongue flicking where the air itself had barely touched you before. His hand stayed broad and steady at your hip, anchoring you so you didn’t float away.

He took the time to explore, open-mouthed at the soft edge of your breast, then the other and the valley between, all the way up to your throat, where his teeth found your pulse. Marks: not of violence, but of tribute, the press of a thumbprint onto fruit to test its ripeness. You shivered beneath him, alive to every place his tongue mapped and every inch of you that burned in the aftermath.

As glorious as that was, you knew what surely would come next, the act described in so many whispers and warnings: the press and pain, the split-second of being claimed and broken open. That was how it always happened, in the barns and haylofts and cold, wet fields, the wedding nights, the way the boys made the girls bite down on a hand or a sleeve, their haste to have it over with. You readied yourself to be bruised, to be stretched and split and left sore.

You braced for the press of his body at the split of you, the forceful push. Instead, Steve drew your skirts up methodically, slowly, and the cool air shocked the skin beneath as he exposed it to the forest. He planted himself between your thighs, the solidness of his shoulders between your thighs coaxing your legs to fall fully open to accommodate the breadth of him. Air stalled in your throat as you felt the heat of his gaze, unflinching on your most intimate place. He made a low sound in his throat that resonated through you and the trees, something between approval and hunger. “You’re wet here,” he murmured, his voice thick with wanting that hollowed your stomach. “Like the forest gives sap in the spring—slow, and sweet, and ready.”

He bent closer, the brush of his breath raising the fine hairs of your thigh, and he let his mouth hover over your slick, exposed folds. He watched your trembling, then the way your hips bucked when his tongue finally, shockingly, flicked at the bud of you. His gaze was open and unhurried, as if he had all of time. He groaned with the first taste, a deep and honest sound that made your hands fist into the moss, tearing up strings of it beneath your nails. Each pass of his tongue was a deliberate, patient movement, spreading your wetness with reverence, savoring you, as if tasting the salt and iron of the earth itself.

You moaned, the sound ringing out over the water, and he answered it with a pulse of suction that wrung more from you. His hands anchored your shaking thighs apart. He did not stop, even when the sensation crested past bearing and you twisted against him—whether to escape or to pull him closer you could not have said—but he wouldn’t let you go. From the creases of his palms, where his lifelines ran deepest, thin green vines emerged from his skin the way shoots push through soil in early spring. They wound around your upper thighs in slow, tightening loops, textured like the underside of a leaf, faintly cool where your skin was heated. The vines didn’t pull you wider, but held you just as you were, their cool, living pressure a patient, unwavering claim on the surrender you already offered.

You keened yet again, and Steve soothed it away with a tongue so dexterous and insistent he taught you a new way to live inside your own body, a way of being you'd never conceived. Your hands found his hair, and a sudden audacity took you, pulling him closer, grinding his mouth against you, feral and greedy and no longer a healer of the village but something wild, as much earthen as blood. He laughed, low and delighted, and you felt it where his mouth was still pressed against you—a terrible, gorgeous thing. He did not slow. He did not falter. He moved as though the wanting of you was its own kind of knowing, as though desire itself had handed him a map. His tongue traced your sex with an accuracy that made you wonder, briefly and wildly, if this was what it meant to be known—not seen, not touched, but learned, the way a river learns the shape of its banks over centuries of insistence.

When the wet, velvet heat of your climax broke over you, it did not snap or spark, but rolled up from your core in a long, rising wave—a secretion of you into the moss, into the air, into his mouth, which did not lose rhythm but drank and drew you further, until the only thing left was the trembling of your thighs and the stunned, empty ache where your voice used to live. Your eyes filled with tears, not of pain—never of pain—but of astonishment, as if every nerve in your body had just flowered at once, a bloom of both petal and thorn.

You had never known this could happen. That a tongue, a mouth, a pair of hands could make you forget yourself, undo the careful braid of your dignity and leave you sobbing for a mercy that, when he finally gave it, cracked open every seam in your body.

Your thighs still trembled against his cheeks when he slowed, his tongue drawing smaller and quieter shapes, the way rain gentles after a storm has spent itself. He did not stop, but his movements gentled and slowed. Your belly clenched once without warning, a small, wet sound leaving your throat before you could catch it, your spine curling involuntarily around the spasm. He raised his head at that. Steve pressed his lips, closed and warm, to the inside of your thigh. Then he moved up the length of you until his eyes were level with yours, his hands releasing your thighs, though the vines remained, loose now, a garland rather than a grip. You found his gaze before you meant to—bright with something that was not quite pride and not quite laughter, but lived fluidly in between. He kissed your mouth, unhurried, and you tasted yourself on his tongue, dark and unfamiliar, the flavor of a thing that had always been yours but that you were only now being introduced to.

He pressed his brow to yours and let you breathe, your own chest heaving against the solid warmth of his. The moss beneath you was velvet; the sky above, the dizzying blue, the gold of late afternoon flickering through willow fronds.

Your hunger had changed, no longer a storm but a strange, quiet hum beneath your skin. In the throb between your legs was both a memory and a promise, an echo of what he’d done and a question of what he still meant to do.

For a moment, Steve said nothing, only nuzzled into the hollow of your throat, the line of your jaw, as if the hollowed-out shape of your pleasure was a thing to be tended, not merely consumed. You lay in the aftermath, skin flush against the living bed of moss, feeling the pulse of your heart reverberate through your every limb. The world seemed sharper than it had ever been, each smell and sound and taste layered and immediate: the greeny wet-earth smell of the moss, the close heat of your own body, the lake’s cold mineral current threading through the trees, and him—less a presence than a gravity, one that didn’t pull you toward him but simply held you to the earth.

You did not want to move, but you wanted more, and he read both truths in your body. His hand slid between your thighs, fingers slicked with what he had drawn out of you, and he pressed the pads of them into you—not to hurt, only to test, to see how easily you would yield.

“The forest gives,” he murmured against your collarbone, the words a vibration you felt more than heard. “But it also takes. It’s only right you should receive first. It bargains in full measure… and now it is my turn.”

He stretched you open, one finger first, then two—so patient, so careful, you only realized you were being claimed when the green heat crested in you again, this time burning languid and low, like embers tended under moss. His hands were indecently strong, but he used them as if comfort was the primary goal—pressing, stroking, coaxing your body to soften around him. The first bite of pain was a shimmer, quickly edged away by the wet insistence of his movements and the wildness in your own hips. You rocked into him, greedy and bright, and the hesitancy that might have undone you was snuffed by a need to see how far, how deep, the pleasure could run.

You did not see his cock at first. When you felt the nudge of it, hard and impossibly hot against the inside of your leg, you looked down and saw that he was already bare, as if the forest itself had shed his clothes for him. The sight of him made your breath catch—he was built the way old trees are built, with a density that seemed to belong to something older and less tame than any man you’d known or could imagine.

An absurd, animal instinct made you shrink back, but his hands caught your hips and held you with tenderness—firm, but tender. The head of it was wet, already slick, crowned by a bead of clear fluid that you watched, dazed, as he thumbed down and pressed to your folds. You’d seen men before—quick glimpses, awkward fumbles in haylofts or behind market stalls—but this was not a man’s cock. It was a thing grown for a single purpose, and each time he guided it up your seam, parting you further, it was as if a new, second pulse had been hidden in your body, one that beat only for this.

He pressed the blunt head of his cock to your entrance and held it there. His eyes had gone wolf-bright, fixed on yours, reading the tremors that ran through you. The stretch was immediate, shocking—a white-hot claim of space where there had been none. Your body arched, seeking more instinctually, and a low rumble started in his chest, the sound of stone shifting deep underground. When he pushed past the first ring of resistance you gasped, a sound somewhere between agony and relief.

A white-hot seam of pain stitched through your hips and along your spine, pure and electric, and then, impossibly quickly, it was overtaken by the burning, desperate pleasure of being filled and filled and filled until you could not imagine more, and still he pressed deeper. You made a strangled noise that was half groan, half sob, your arms thrown up to brace against his chest, nails biting into the patches of moss-and-bark that surfaced between stretches of smooth, human skin. There was no logic to the fit of him, no sense in the physics of it, but he did not force. He gave, and your body took, the slow press of him unfolding you like a new language written into your bones.

His breath came hard through parted lips, but his eyes—his eyes did not move from yours, and what was in them was not hunger, or not only hunger… it was something older and more careful, the look of a man who understood exactly what he was holding, taking. The tendons in his neck stood out like roots finding purchase in stone, and he breathed through his nose in one long, deliberate pull, as if holding himself back from splitting you entirely. Inch by inch, he worked himself deeper, and you wept out loud when your body finally yielded and he was all the way inside you—a thickness that was almost unbearable, a depth that felt impossible as every nerve lit up and you did not think, for a moment, that you could bear another inch, even as his root dragged and pressed into a place you had never known you had. Steve made a soft, shushing noise, a caress of wind in your ear, and stilled inside you with a gentleness that nearly undid your sanity.

Your pulse beat hard in your throat. You felt full—so full—and with every tiny shift of your hips, every tentative intake of air, he seemed to bloom larger inside you. You didn’t think you could breathe until he gave you leave, and then you shuddered, the air shoving out in ragged, surprised gasps. The pain faded as swiftly as it had bloomed, replaced by the eerie awareness of being shaped from within. You were aware of every inch, every subtle shift, and it was intolerable and perfect.

He tilted his hips, a fractional shift that sent the cock inside you pressing higher somehow, grinding a spot that burned and throbbed with every minute twitch. All you could do was shudder and hold on as his hands ran up your body—stroking your sides, reverently palming your breasts, the whole time never pulling back, never pulling out, as if the very idea of separation was foreign to him.

He bent his head again, kissing all the places he could reach: your throat, wet with your sweat and the lake air; your ear, where he whispered words you barely understood, half in another tongue, the syllables soft and full of promise. His hands mapped you, his body claimed you, but it was not a violence, not an invasion. Something older than memory was being pressed into you, the way a name, spoken enough times, becomes the only word a mouth knows how to form.

He moved, slow at first—less a thrust than a rolling flex of pelvis and hip, a careful rocking as if he were teaching your body how to say yes. The first withdrawal was exquisitely, almost cruelly, slow. You felt every millimeter of him slide back along the walls of your cunt, a velvet scrape that left you gaping and gasping for more. Before you could mourn the loss, he pressed forward again, filling you deeper, the new angle making you see stars. Your hands clung to his shoulders, to the strange lattice of moss and bark beneath the skin, the unreal heat of him burning into your palms.

He began to fuck you then, not with the frantic, selfish rhythm of a man, but with the slow, inexorable certainty of a season turning. His eyes never left yours, reading every flutter of your lashes, every catch in your breath, as if cataloging the ways your body learned to take him.

That rhythm was slow and considerate, but soon the tempo changed. Steve braced his hands in the moss at either side of your head and moved with deliberate, rolling thrusts that grew in force and speed. Your gasps, your shivers, the dull percussion of your bodies meeting each other—it all became the rhythm of the forest, mingling with the hush of wind, the wet shudder of leaves. You felt the moss bed beneath you shudder, the roots trembling, as Steve’s hips snapped forward with more force. The careful, reverent worship of your body became an urgency, a drive, and it overtook both of you—his hands pinning yours above your head, his mouth finding your throat and holding it there, as if he could root you to the earth by the pulse alone.

He did not ask if you were ready. He did not have to. Your body gave its own answer, arching up, knees drawing higher and wider to accommodate the relentless, beautiful force of him. With each thrust, the forest blurred into green-gold strokes, the sky itself seeming to fall away, leaving only the bright, unspeakable ache of being filled and fucked.

You came apart, succumbing to it like a riptide. You clung to the filaments of his shoulders, body locking in great, shuddering spasms around the cock that was still splitting you. The sound that tore from your throat was not yours, or not one you had made before, and he drove into you through the whole shaking length of it, unhurried, relentless, the way weather moves through a valley.

Your cunt rippled, clamping, until you felt the answering quiver in him—a hardening, a climbing tension, the way his entire body drew up. Steve bowed over you, his hair a whisper against your skin. A grimace of pure ecstasy pulled at his mouth, and a low growl built in his chest as he fought for the last vestiges of control, holding himself back from breaking you completely. Only when you sobbed his name—ridiculous, simple—did he splinter, driving into you with a force that shoved all the air from your lungs, holding you impaled as his cock pulsed inside you, hot and fevered, a flood that felt like it was remaking you from within.

You were pinned to the earth not merely by his body, but by a force that had nothing to do with choice or want, something closer to gravity than desire. Even after he stilled, the moss beneath you continued to tremble in sympathetic rhythm with the frantic ricochet of your heartbeat. Steve did not move at once—he seemed to savor the heat of you, the locked and wet hold of your cunt, the way your body shuddered around every last pulse. When he finally withdrew, you felt the loss, whimpering at the stinging ache, the slow, deliberate slide of him from your body.

Steve knelt between your legs, cock smeared with your blood and his own seed, and in a motion so gentle it nearly made you weep again, he bowed his head to you. His tongue drew shudders from your body, tracing reverent patterns over newly awakened nerves, and you basked in the deliberate, shocking care of it.

When he was satisfied with his work, Steve moved back up over you, and his lips brushed your temple. “Hush,” he murmured, the words a soft vibration against your skin. “Again and again, until there is no question. The forest wants its fruit… and I will make sure it takes root.”

You could only nod, your body still caught between tremor and euphoria, your chest rising and falling in time with the damp, living earth. The words he’d spoken echoed in your mind: the seed, the fruit, the next guardian. You had thought life a slow accrual, a distant, speculative thing. But there was no speculation now. As your blood quieted, a stillness gathered deep in your womb—a heavy, waiting calm that confirmed the change was not coming, but had already arrived.

Lake monster Curtis being a bolotnik meant that when I incorporated another creature, I wanted to draw on more European folklore and play with the elements, and that's how rooted around until I found mention of the Waldgeist. I definitely took liberties in my interpretation, but just like I did with bolotnik!Curtis, I wanted to play around with the lore the way we've so commonly played with vampire and werewolf lore.

This was its own vibe to write - it flowed from beginning to end, and felt very magical-realism, and created its own kind of creative track in my head that was very different from some of the ideas and projects I've been working on lately, and so I hope it was as immersive to read as it was to write!

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

…something not-quite-human in the perfect symmetry of his features, the strong jawline, his shockingly blue eyes.

Perfect man is perfect. Well, “man” I guess.

He spoke first, and the voice was all wrong: too deep, carrying a timbre like wind in a dead trunk, creaking and full of hollow space.

I loooove this description. It’s so otherworldly 😮‍💨🤌🏻

“The only thing you have to offer that’s of any interest to me,” he said, his voice lowering to the hum of sap rising in the spring, “is that sweet, warm place between your legs.”

THE GASP I GUSPED!! I fucking love this usage!!

when he bent his head, there was no trembling or hesitation—only a gentleness so deliberate that you understood, even through your shock, how hard he worked to contain himself.

HNNNNNNGH. This detail has me descending into feral shambles 😩

Steve soothed it away with a tongue so dexterous and insistent he taught you a new way to live inside your own body, a way of being you'd never conceived.

MA’AM, YOU NEED TO CALM DOWN 😤

Wow, wow, wow. This was just utter perfection. This story has a sort of hypnotic gravity. I truly was so immersed in it that all of my commentary fell away. I was just so completely swept up by the intensity of these two.

The way you were able to make Steve come across as this ancient, almost omniscient creature was so impressive. It was like we were being taken—and worshipped—by a forest god 😮‍💨

There was no exotic greenery around the lake, no rainbow of colors living in the depths, no white shores to strut along after abandoning a drained sailor. The lake was surrounded by a sickle of forest that changed colors every few months, and a wide spread of fields on the other side. Specks of colorful cottages dotting the horizon there. 

Warmth came in months, then receded until an icy sheet covered the water. The first time he saw it, he nearly panicked. However, Ransom learned in time that his body didn’t react to the temperature, as well that people came over to the lake no matter the season. 

With time, he realized, he gained what he hoped for - being away from his toxic kin, as well finding joys that the lagoon never brought.

Yes, it was colorful and luxurious for a water spirit, but provided the same kind of people every time - dirty, dreamy sailors and stuffy aristocrats. It all turned so boring so fast.

His lake - because Ransom was the only water spirit here - provided variety and entertainment. And it changed as the seasons here did. 

Spring brought men who fished in the gray hours of the morning, women who came to wash clothes, kids playing along the shores. Merchants and knights spent short breaks there on their routes from town to town. Winters meant fishing through holes in the ice and youth laughing as they slid across the thick sheet. 

Summer was Ransom’s favorite, with all the laughter and splashing as people cooled off in his lake. He especially liked women who came before the sunset, stripped themselves completely, then dove into the heart of the lake. 

It was also in the summer that humans held their festivities - something he never experienced before moving to the lake. Ransom watched the tall bonfires on the horizon, listened to the music and chime of bells. Then unmarried women came to the shore and threw flower wreaths onto it. 

Ransom made the water ripple and push them gently across the lake. Humans believed that whichever man on the other side of the lake picked the wreath, would then marry the girl it belonged to. 

Sometimes Ransom made the wreaths get stuck in the cattails, or picked them for himself. Just to mess with the humans and listen to the girls scaring each other how the water demon stole the wreath and it meant he’d steal their virginity, too.

From what Ransom witnessed happening not far from the shores, not many of those women were virgins.

And some of them, though they kept it a sweet secret, laid with him willingly. 

Ransom used to be offended by the term demon, but he learned to use it to his advantage. A charming appearance, a smirk, an insinuation that they lured him because they wanted to sin. 

A few ran away terrified. Some spread for him with a mischievous giggle. 

When you came to the shore and padded along the short, wooden deck the villagers built a few years ago, Ransom poked his head out of the water. He was still far away, and with the way the setting sun was shattering its light on the surface, he was partially hidden in all the sparkling reflections. 

For the past months you’ve been visiting the lake more often than others. A few times a day even. Always curious. 

You scavenged the shores, peeking between the blades of the sweet flag and laughing when you saw ducklings chirping and splashing. You sat on the deck, staring at the lake and mapping each ripple of the water. You dove into it, eyes open and watching the fish scampering between the waterweeds.

At first, Ransom took you for someone drawn to the lake for its calming and joyous properties. However, he quickly realised you weren’t only admiring the life here, but actively searching. 

For him.

While many people from the villages believed him to be a myth, the stories were still whispered. Especially by those who got a first hand (and other limbs) experience of interacting with him. 

Your determination crossed beyond spontaneous carnal need. You didn’t step into the water with a sweet calling song on your lips, as the other maidens have done to lure him. Instead, you displayed genuine interest with everything that was a part of Ransom’s home, and thus, a part of him. 

With his face half hidden in the water, Ransom studied you. 

Mischief seemed to be a constant sparkle in your eyes, much as the light reflected in the water. He felt himself smile in response whenever you giggled at something when visiting the lake - be it a sudden quack of the duck, or a fish nipping your toe when you dipped your feet in the water. 

A flash of your grin pulled him forward, curiosity of what you’d do next feeding his eagerness to pounce. 

Suddenly, you were standing up and taking your clothes off. 

Naked people in his lake weren’t a novelty, but for some reason your nudity stirred a potent reaction. Primal arousal, as well a flare of hunger and possessiveness. 

You dove into the water and started swimming - graceful, unrushed, but stubbornly forward. Deeper, away from the safety of the nearby shore. For the first time, Ransom didn’t just watch. He swam towards you.

Your face lit up with another smile. A broad grin that made him eager to find out what mischief was brewing in your pretty head. 

“Finally!” You huffed, floating in the water with a bit more strain. “I’ve been waiting so long for you to show yourself.”

Ransom swam even closer, eyes glinting with amusement at your bold words. 

“Pining after me, pretty mussel?” He slowly swam around you, a shark circling its prey. 

“Not pining. Wanting.” You corrected. 

The water demon you glimpsed a few months before, at the summer solstice celebrations, up close was even more beautiful and intriguing. More alluring than what the few women from the village whispered in secret, both blushing and proud of themselves for laying with a creature. 

“Wanting…” Ransom hummed, stopping in front of you. He had no trouble simply not drowning without moving his muscles much. 

“Yet I didn’t see you use any human seduction tricks on me. Aside from getting naked just now and jumping into my waters.”

“Why should I be like the others?” You sounded almost offended, which Ransom found surprisingly cute. “I don’t want just a single adventure to keep in secret and remember on boring, cold days.”

Ransom tilted his head slightly, studying you. He had an inkling that you were after something more than a one time fuck, but he didn’t expect you to be so bold and forward about it. 

“What do you want then, pretty mussel?” He dipped neared, the warmth of his body a soft beacon in the cool water. 

“To be yours,” you declared daringly. 

That streak of possessiveness yanked on Ransom’s heart stronger, rushing blood through his limbs with giddy hunger. It was the first time that someone wanted him, not to use him or gain something. Purely out of deep curiosity of him and desire for all that he brought. 

“Oh, Mussel. Are you aware of what it means to be mine? What would I do to you?” He spread his power through the lake, reaching for roots that bent to his will.

You gasped at the unexpected brush of soft vines along your calves. They wrapped around your ankles, then further up - holding you in place, spreading you wider. Your eyes widened as your heart rate accelerated. 

You were bound in place, unable to swim away or to shield yourself from the water demon. 

It was a shock, at first. But it quickly burst into a fizzy thrill and arousal. 

“Keep the waterweeds from my arms, please?” You surprised Ransom with your ask. “I want to touch you.”

He wrapped an arm around you, squeezing your front to his chest. His free hand dipped under the water, splaying just under the curve of your ass. His blue eyes reflected something fiery. It matched the hunger you felt. 

“Then touch me.” Ransom’s lips inched close to yours. “Reach for what you dreamed of. Because it is what you yearned for, isn’t it?”

The tip of his tongue flicked against your bottom lip. Your mouth opened eagerly, a puff of warm breath in the shape of a tiny moan. 

It was exactly what you dreamed of. Not only to taste his lips - find out if they were as tickling soft and fresh as the lake water, or perhaps carrying a hint of dark, forbidden fruit. Not only to be touched by a mischievous demon, experiencing something more than a few tumbles in the hay with village boys.

You yearned for the life that being a creature’s companion could mean. Something other than the predictable boredom of picking the least drinking man in the village as your husband, working fields and minding animals all day, and producing babies. 

You wanted to sate your curiosity; to learn about the world in angles different than through the lens of material possessions. Even if your life was bound to the lake, it would include new discoveries, new kinds of tasks, so many carefree joys and mischief. 

“Yes.” You whispered. Then made the move yourself.

You kissed him. 

Ransom’s hold on you tightened. Another set of waterweeds tickled between your thighs. Then the pressure of his thigh was there, firm muscle, so surprisingly warm. For some reason, you thought he’d be colder to the touch. Cool, like the lake water. 

In spite of being bound in place, you tried rolling your hips down against his thigh. Your hands moved over Ransom’s back, his shoulders, squeezing his biceps. 

When you combed your fingers through his hair, he growled against your mouth. Whatever surged through him at the sensation, seeped out and jolted through your body like a pleasant shockwave. 

Suddenly, you were tipping backwards. Instead of submerging in the lake, your back met the wet shore. Some waterweeds were still wrapped around your ankles, though no longer holding you bound in place. Your heels dug into the wet sand as you bent your knees and spread your legs wider. Ransom settled between them fully.

You broke away from kissing him - less to catch air, and more to take a look at him. Fair skin, perhaps slightly paler than that of a human. A few spots on his body bore delicate crescent marks that shimmered silver. Not scars. Their layering reminded you of scales, but when you brushed your fingertips over it they didn’t change texture from the smoothness of skin. 

“Ransom,” he framed your jaw with his hand, forcing you to look at him. “You call me Ransom, pretty Mussel.”

You touched his cheek gently, your lips curving in a smile. Slowly, you traced the chiseled line of his jaw, up over his plush, glistening lips, again over the cut of his cheek. 

“Ransom,” you murmured his name. 

He never gave his name to any other human. Sometimes, when they pushed for it, he told them to call him Hugh. But he needed you to know his real name. To use his real name. 

He didn’t plan for it at first, only to indulge in some of your cute curious chase. But when you leaned into him without fear, still wanting him despite his powers showing you his wicked side, a puzzle that was missing fell into place. 

Ransom had his happy freedom here in the lake, his peace and joy, as well connections with beings living in the woods around the lake. It never felt like anything was missing from his existence, but now that you were here it gained additional flavor. 

You resolutely gave him your own name in return, then grinned.

“Does it mean we own each other now?” You tilted your face slightly to capture his thumb with your teeth and nip it playfully, before sucking on the tip. 

Ransom chuckled, a pleased, low sound. 

“You’re a possessive creature,” he noticed, with unhidden delight. 

“I am.” You gave a sharp nod. “So if I’m to be yours, you don’t get to fuck anyone else. I’ll chase them away with a stick!” 

“I believe you’ll be an endless source of intrigue, I won’t be interested in anyone else.” And he meant it. 

The smile that lit up your face, combined with the sparks in your eyes, switched something inside him. A surge of protectiveness that viciously readied its claws and teeth to rip apart anyone who’d dim your light. And an immediate flare of consuming desire. 

He captured your mouth again. More demanding, greedier than before. He slid his hand down your side, mapping out your curves and squeezing the softness. 

Ransom rolled his hips against you, groaning at the pleasure of your heat right against his hard cock. Your plush thighs clenched around him, urging him on. You weren’t shy, or patient - kissing him back, touching wherever you could reach, gripping his hair with one hand and his ass with the other. 

You moaned so sweetly when his mouth descended down your neck and onto your breasts. Then made amusing, tiny whines when he didn’t slide right into you as you rocked your hips invitingly.

Your needy touch, both reverent and possessive, only heightened Ransom’s determination to prolong this exploration. It was the moment you fisted his hair tighter and called out his name, that made him snap. 

He pushed inside you in a smooth, firm stroke. You arched beneath him, your whole body tensing then melting in a shiver as it adjusted to the fullness.  

“Never getting enough of this,” Ransom grunted against your skin. 

His hand splayed on your hip, fingers pressing into your flesh so hard he might leave bruises. You wouldn’t mind it. You wanted all of it - the heaviness of his body, the silk of his hair between your fingers, the slide of his skin against yours, the stretch of his cock inside of you. 

“More!” You demanded breathlessly, wrapping your legs around him and crossing your ankles. 

Ransom slowed. Then stilled. His eyes darker and glinting wickedness. He waited for that fussy whine, for the prickle of your fingernails against his back, for the pout on your sweet lips. 

Only then he complied with your wish. Snapping his hips faster, filling you harder. 

He didn’t slow when you crested. Groaning at the sensation of your hot cunt clenching around him, he tried to hold off his own peak just to give you more. The little, soft sounds you made with each thrust were threatening to cut his control. 

When he came, you welcomed it with another moan of his name. Quieter, more intimate, but no less obscene. 

You stared at Ransom, all big eyes and mouth opened in awe as his cock throbbed inside of you, filling you with his seed. He didn’t withdraw right away. Just stayed locked deep, even when your legs dropped down bonelessly. 

“How long can you be outside of the water?” You asked quietly, gently running your fingers up and down Ransom’s shoulders. 

“Quite some time. Why?” Ransom frowned, surprised how comfortable you were remaining entangled with him on the wet sand, dirty and filled with him.

“I don’t know if anyone from the village will help me build a cottage so close to the lake,” you sighed in resignation. 

Something in Ransom’s chest tightened. You wanted to live with him. 

By the way you voiced your worry, it was something you gave a serious thought, not just a spontaneous idea. Which meant he was going to make it happen. Ransom had no building skills of his own, but there was someone he could ask for help with that. He’d have to promise the guy to not annoy him anymore when he was fishing, damnit. But it would get you a house by the lake. 

“Cottage by the lake? What else do you want, Mussel?” He smirked, leaning his forehead against yours. 

Summer was Ransom’s favorite, with all the laughter and splashing as people cooled off in his lake. He especially liked women who came before the sunset, stripped themselves completely, then dove into the heart of the lake. 

Hahaha I knew that would be why he loved summer.

Naked people in his lake weren’t a novelty, but for some reason your nudity stirred a potent reaction. Primal arousal, as well a flare of hunger and possessiveness. 

😏😏😏

It was the first time that someone wanted him, not to use him or gain something. Purely out of deep curiosity of him and desire for all that he brought. 

Let me love you!!!

Ransom had no building skills of his own, but there was someone he could ask for help with that. He’d have to promise the guy to not annoy him anymore when he was fishing, damnit. But it would get you a house by the lake. 

It’s Curtis, isn’t it? 🤭

Ahhhhhh! I can’t believe how sweet this is!!! I love it so much and I’m so 🥹 I’m also so happy Ransom finally has a peaceful home and now someone to share it with 😭

Tripping backwards and getting locked in a store cupboard would have been hilarious, had it not been for the fact you were overhearing a murder being committed just outside the door.

“You picked the wrong man to steal from.” A man's voice says, amused. Something smashes, and there's a grunt.

"No, please!"

Footsteps back-tracking. You cover your ears just in time as a gunshot sounds but you can't stop your yelp from escaping as a body thuds against the door with a digusting gurgle. You step back into the darkness, terror making you break out into a cold sweat. Unfortunately, your foot steps into a mop bucket and it startles you - making you jump and smack your head on a shelf. If your yelp hadn't alerted whoever was behind the door, the falling of cleaning supplies did.

"Oh? Another rat in hiding?" The voice chuckles, the heavy schlick of a body being moved sounding from the tiny gap under the door.

"No rat! I swear!" You call out, squeezing your eyes shut. "More like a lost field mouse."

The door opens and light pours in. Your eyelids adjust with stars and patterns, and when you peek one eye open a shadow looms in the doorway.

"A field mouse?..." The shadow takes a small step into the room.

The light moves and you can see him clearly; angled features, strong nose, blue eyes that glimmer like ice in the sun. You're unsettled by how clean he looks, dressed in slacks, shirt and dress shoes. That feeling doesn't disappear as he blinks at you, a slow smile stretching along his face and he tucks his gun into the back of his belt.

You swallow terror, looking up at him behind a layer or two of blue paper towel. Your foot throbs from inside the bucket - possibly twisted. The man kneels close to you, and moves the paper towel from your face gently. You stare at him. Now that he's up close you can see a speck of blood on his cheek. He seems to study you for a moment before chuckling and standing straight.

"Can you stand, my little field mouse?"

You go to push up but your ankle sears with pain, making you hiss. You look at him and shake your head. He bends down, wrapping one strong arm around your side and another under your knees. He lifts you slowly, easing you out of the confined space.

"Thanks." You tell him, still scared but grateful. He let's you shake away the excess paper with a grin but when you think he's about to put you down, he carries you out into the store.

There are three bodies - the one he steps over and another two being carried away by burly, scary looking mercenaries with guns and knives at their waists. You hold back a gasp, but go rigid in your saviour-not-saviour's arms.

"No rat, only a mouse." He announces cheerfully to the men. Some chuckle, others continue moving the bodies with dry smirks. He turns to one of the men whose holding what looks like a rifle, guarding the main doors. "Bring the car around. I'll take her home."

The car is not what you expected. You were expecting a beat up van or a boring non-descript car; but this thing is half limo. You've still not been released yet and, seemingly noticing your surprise at the car, the man explains that he likes to travel in luxury.

He places you gently onto the leather seat, careful not to knock your ankle and takes his place opposite you before telling the driver to start the car. You shift uncomfortably. You don't really want to give him your address, so you instead begin to thank him and ask for a ride to the nearest hospital. The man only raises an eyebrow at you.

"I promise I won't say anything." You assure him. "I didn't actually see anything."

The man barks a laugh and you shrink into your seat, dread settling in your bones. If he wanted to kill you he'd have done it already, which only meant something worse was in store for you.

"You're too cute, pumpkin." He says finally. "But I'm not going to let you out of my sight. I'm taking you home."

"Home?" At least that was a start. "Do you need my address?"

He looks at you like you've grown a second head, before sighing and leaning forward with a mocking smirk. "I should've been clearer, cupcake. I'm sorry. You're coming home with me."

Your jaw is on the plush carpeted floor of the car. "What? No, I-"

He leans back with a groan - but it's not an unhappy one. It sounds more delighted than anything and it makes your skin crawl. "Ohhh, you are just so fuckin' cute. You'll love it, I promise honeybear."

"I-I don't think I understand." You shakily admit. "There's been a misunderstanding. I can't-"

The look in his eyes silences you; cold and terrifying.

"No misunderstanding." He says simply. "Only fate, sugarplum." His demeanour shifts back to cheery again. "Now, tell me about you. We've got another twenty minutes to kill before we're back home. I'll get you an ice pack and show you just how well I can take care of you."

Something about frying pans and fires crosses your mind as you quietly accept your fate. If he was as half as scary as he seemed, he wouldn't hesitate to kill you too, right? Surely, it was in your best interest to play along until you could escape him?

But something told you that now that he had you, you wouldn't be letting you go anytime soon.

End

🎂🎂🎂🎂🎂🎂🎂🎂🎂🎂🎂🎂🎂🎂🎂

A/N: Short and sweet for me! Don't know why Lloyd keeps kidnapping my readers lmao oh well. Siri I hope you have THE BEST birthday weekend.

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Now here you sat in one of the nicest restaurants in the city, waiting for Hugh to show up. Taking another sip of your drink you wrinkled your nose.

"Next one order a double, they never put enough booze in." Your eyes widened as you took in Hugh. Your shock at his sudden appearance hid your perusal of him.

He wore a maroon sweater, he must have checked his coat, but still had a vibrant scarf around his neck. His pants were dress pants, but together the outfit seemed far too casual for the type of place you were in. Certainly compared to the cocktail dress you wore. 

"Hmm," you hummed softly as you swirled your drink in one hand and gestured for him to sit with the other, "I'll remember that for next time." 

With that, you shot back the rest of your drink, and gathered your purse. 

"What are you doing?" Hugh's look of confusion could be considered cute, if you didn't see the tick in his jaw.

"Our date," you brought your wrist up with your watch on it, "was supposed to be an hour ago. So, thanks for the drink I guess." 

Hugh's eyes narrowed for a moment, and you knew, you knew, you should try and mind your attitude. And yet, here you were mouthing off, like usual. Before you could scurry away, he was closing the distance between you both. Both of his arms, stronger than you had expected wrapped around you. To anyone else, it would look like an intimate embrace, being the one wrapped in it you knew the truth. You had been captured by a wolf.

"What the hell are you doing?" Your own voice was no louder than a whisper, not wanting to draw any unwanted attention your way.

"I think I owe you a dinner, but if you really want to get out of here, I can't say I mind." You could hear the smirk in Hugh's voice. The note of triumph ringing loudly in your ears. Despite the danger you now found yourself in, you couldn't help the thrill of want that electrified your spine. 

You bit your lip, part of you, the part that had gotten used to only your own toys for pleasure was screaming to take him up on his offer. The rational part of your brain, thankfully stepped in. "Fine. Dinner, and then I go home alone."

Hugh simply smirked at you before releasing you. "We'll see."

He pulled your chair out, with a practiced grace, waiting for you to be comfortably seated before resuming his own. As you perused the menu, you found your gaze tracking back to him. The furrow of his brow as the server approached. The stress stretching his shoulders. The constant tap, tap, tap of his foot beneath the table.

When the two of you were alone at the table again, you smirked over your menu to him. "You're nervous, Hugh." Your eyes twinkled with mirth you couldn't quite contain.

His eyes narrowed as he looked up at you. A rosy tinge working its way from his neck to his cheeks. "No one calls me that." 

At your arched eyebrow he continued, " 'Hugh' no one calls me that. Everyone calls me Ransom."

You snorted out a laugh at that, your mirth quickly dying at another tick in his jaw. "Wait - no as in 'pay me the ransom?' Where did that come from?" You couldn't help it, you were genuinely curious how this rising star Mobster had gained the nickname Ransom.

Ransom's eyes narrowed again briefly, before he shrugged a short laugh rumbling his chest. "It's my middle name, I'm not sure who's idea it was."

"Yeesh," you folded the menu closed and smiled at him, much more genuinely then you meant to, "How much do you hate the name Hugh?"

That earned you a twinkle in Ransom's eyes that had warmth settling in your chest. Something about that look, it struck you immediately. His lips twitching into a smile that seemed to glow.

"I guess it's for the best." You continued, taking a sip of the new drink Ransom had ordered you. His brows twisted in confusion and you smirked at him again. "I don't know if 'Mob Boss Hugh' has quite the ring you're going for." 

Ransom paused for a moment before a full belly laugh shook his frame. The pure joy, something you weren't sure you had ever seen in any of your encounters with the man across the table from you, had you laughing as well.

This seemed to be the moment that had snapped the tension from earlier. All of a sudden the conversation between you two flowed like two souls connecting. Ransom animatedly told you of childhood stories with Lloyd, while you eagerly shared your own antics. You weren't sure why exactly you were opening up, but there was something in the way he listened. Hell, something in the way he spoke that had you feeling more at ease then you could ever remember feeling.

When the server came for the fourth time to ask if you wanted anything else, you sadly looked down at the table. For something you had been dreading, you were surprised to find yourself sad at the prospect of your date being over. You missed the exchange between Ransom and the server, but far too soon he was standing, and you mirrored him.

Pulling your purse securely into your shoulder, a small sigh escaped your lips as Ransom tucked you into his side and walked you to coat check. 

"Shoot!" You began fumbling as the worker went in search of both your coats.

"What's wrong?" Ransom's brow was quirked as he watched you fight with your accessory.

You gave him a withering look before successfully pulling your phone out in triumph. "I forgot to call the car service, I hate having to wait." 

Ransom smirked, as you pouted up at him. "I'll bring you home, couldn't let a Treasure like you sit here all by herself." 

It was the wink he followed it with that had you rolling your eyes. Even if you didn't argue with him.

The drive to your place seemed to pass in no time at all. Before you knew it Ransom was pulling his beemer into your driveway. You hesitated for a moment then steeling all your courage asked, "Would you want to come in for coffee?"

Ransom looked across the car at you, his expression guarded. He must have seen whatever he was looking for in your eyes, because soon he was following you up the garden path to your front door. 

"You garden?" He murmured. He was closer than you expected, your fingers struggling to find your keys. His hands on your hips steadied you a moment, until you felt him step closer. The heat radiating off of his body, through his clothes and wrapping around you. 

You could only hum in response, your brain struggling to string words together at Ransom's proximity. There was a part of you, deep down, that knew sleeping with Ransom was a bad idea. But there was another part, the part that hadn't had sex in months, that was too damn horny to care.

Once you were finally through the door, Ransom pinned you to the wall, his mouth on yours. The small gasp that fell from your lips was all the permission he needed to let his tongue meet yours. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his neck. His hands felt like they were everywhere, on your hips, your ass, the back of your neck. 

It didn't take long before your mutual frustration had him growling out a breath. He hooked his hands behind your knees and you squealed as he lifted you, and hooked your heels around his waist. 

"Bedroom?" Ransom's grunted words shook you from your haze.

"Upstairs," You panted, hands coming up to frame his face, "On the right, end of the hall." You pulled him back to you, moaning into his mouth and grinding against him.

Ransom made short work of the trip to your bedroom, even with your best attempts to distract him. Trailing kisses down his neck, a well placed bite to his earlobe, and a lick across his jaw. 

Once in your room he dropped you on the bed, he looked around before sitting in the armchair you normally used to read in in the evening. "Strip."

You gulped, no man had ever asked you to do that before. You glanced up at him through your lashes, heat rising to your cheeks at the simple request. You tried to hide your shaking hands as you unzipped your dress, but you knew Ransom saw. A smirk playing across his lips as he watched your movements.

With a whoosh your cocktail dress slid to the floor, leaving you in your black strapless bra and matching panties. Ransom hummed in appreciation, and you saw him palm himself through his trousers. "Keep going, Treasure." The words were barely above a whisper, but they were certainly an order. 

Seeing the effect you had on him emboldened you, you took a few steps closer to where he was perched on your armchair and straddled his lap. You hands coming up behind you to undo your bra first. He groaned as your breasts spilled forward, close enough for him to touch. Just as his hand rose, you moved back off of his lap. Walking backwards towards your bed. You laid down, making sure to position yourself so he got a full view as you peeled down your panties. As slowly, and what you hoped was sexily, as you could you pulled your panties down. You lifted your hips and arched your back, so he would have a perfect view of your exposed cunt. 

You couldn't see him from this angle, but you were sure he sucked in a breath at your little show. Just as you propped yourself up on your elbows, you felt the bed dip by your hip. Ransom's hand trailed from your ankle, his fingers light as air on your skin, up to the bend of your knee, and back down to the vee where your thighs met. 

He dragged the feather light touch down the cut of you. One that had your hips thrusting up to meet his touch. He simply tutted, and pulled his hand back. He dipped his hand down again, but this time his touch was firmer. His thumb landing on your clit, while his fingers dragged between your lower lips. 

You found yourself rutting into his hand, one of your own had grabbed onto his wrist holding him where you wanted him. When you chanced a glance up at him a triumphant smirk met your gaze. You wanted to huff, to roll your eyes, but all you can manage is a whine of frustration. Because you want more.

"Alright Treasure, I'll give you what you want." Ransom's voice was low, lower than you had ever heard it before.

He moved off of the bed, stripping out of his sweater and trousers and boxer briefs. You only had a moment to take in the flex of his abs, and the trail of hair down his stomach before he was on you. You heard the familiar crinkle of a condom wrapper and grabbed his wrist. 

"I'm on the pill." You looked him straight in the eye, trying to convey all the want, need, desperation you felt. "I want to feel you." 

Ransom groaned, his head dropping down to your chest, "Keep talking like that Treasure, and I'll never let you go." 

You giggled and pulled his face up to yours. "I'd like to see you try Drysdale." 

He sealed your lips in a kiss while he lined himself up with your entrance. Even the blunt head of him felt large, and you found yourself both nervous and excited for the size of him. Ransom hitched one of your legs over his hip and then slid home. 

You threw your head back, tears gathering in your eyes at the stretch of him. His thumb returned to your clit, and began rubbing lazy circles into you. After a few moments of letting you adjust he began to move. 

"Ohhhh Hugh…" the words left your mouth without permission. You reached for him, arms wrapping around his broad shoulders. 

"That's it Treasure, let me take real good care of you." Ransom smirked before dipping his head down to pepper kisses along your collar bone. The pressure of his thumb on your clit increased until you were meeting his every thrust. Mouth descending to your breast to nip at your nipple. His tongue soon joined and he was trading off sucks and bites keeping pace with his thumb.

Your breathing became more frantic and soon you were chanting his name "Hugh, Hugh, Hugh." 

"Fuck," Ransom groaned into your chest, his words muffled by your breasts, "This pussy is too good. Sucking me right in and holding me tight. I think I'm gonna have to keep you Treasure."

You moaned, your thoughts blurring between the pleasure you felt and the words leaving Ransom's mouth. A drawn out "Yesssssss" the only thing your scattered brain could articulate. 

"Yeah?" He smirked down, slowing his thrusts only slightly, he ducked down his lips caressing your ear with his next words. "Bet you'd love it if I fucked a baby into you huh?"

You felt a buzz race down your spine and into your core at his words. Although, you both knew that's not what was happening, the thought of him fucking you over and over, filling you sent your pleasure into overdrive.

"Hmm," He hummed, your core clenching around him and your body writhing at his words were all the answer he needed. "That's right Treasure, just lay there and take it. Let me fill you up."

His pressure on your clit increased and returned to sucking on your nipple. The dual sensations and his words still ringing in your ears sent you flying high as your orgasm hit. Your head fell back as your mouth formed a silent scream. Ransom didn't stop his assault on your body though, if anything this just spurred him on. 

His thrusts increased, and he ripped his arm away from your cunt to push both your legs up until you were folded in half. When you blinked your eyes open you saw his own gaze was fixated on where you both connected, the lewd squelch echoing loudly in your bedroom. 

A sheen of sweat had broken out on Ransom's brow, and you could feel the stutter in his hips, you knew he was close. "That's it Treasure, take it." You brought your hand up and gripped his shoulders, your nails biting into the skin. He groaned, a dark look taking over his eyes, "You're mine now Treasure."

"Yes, Hugh, yours. All yours." You babbled along with him, another high cresting at the possessive streak in him. 

Ransom didn't miss the cues, his thumb dropping from your knee to thrum at your clit once more. Determined to see you come on his cock once more. "Fuck yes, that's it milk me dry." He slowed his pace minutely, wanting to feel your walls clench around him again. 

Your grip on his shoulders increased the closer you got until you were pulling him down, so his weight rested against your own. Just as your orgasm hit you bit down on his shoulder, causing Ransom to groan and you felt the flood of his come. 

He stayed still a few moments, his hips sealed to your own. Then when he pulled back, you both gasped as his cock left you feeling empty. Just as you were about to sit up to clean yourself, you felt Ransom's large fingers circling your entrance. He began to finger his come back into you, until he was satisfied none had leaked. 

When your eyes fluttered open, it was to Ransom's fingers in front of your mouth, and your greedily sucked your combined juices from his fingers. He simply smirked at you before laying beside you, cuddling you into his chest. 

Laying over Ransom's heart, listening to the thrum begin to slow, it began to ease you into sleep. You were just on the edge of sleep when you heard him murmur something.

"What was that?" Your head popped up to look at him.

"I meant it." The dark look that you had seen before was back. "You're mine now Treasure."

You hummed and let your head fall to his chest. Sure it was just the post fucking that was getting to him. There was no way that Ransom Drysdale would want more than a night or two with the daughter of a rival family. You pet his chest, his own hand drawing lazy circles on your back. Placing a kiss onto his chest, you murmured your own, "Sure Ransom, whatever you say." Before nipping at his pectoral. 

His hum of satisfaction was the last thing you heard before you drifted off into an easy slumber.

***

2nd A/N: I’m kind of in love with these two…their dynamic is just so different. Once again Siri, I hope you have the absolute best birthday, and enjoy all the fics that everyone is ready to send to you. You’re the absolute best, and this place wouldn’t be the same without you here ❤️

But also good on us for being feisty 😤 Making us wait an hour, the audacity!

Blushy Ransom! This is not a drill! 🗣️

What was the exchange with the server 🤨

Wowieeeeee. These two have some fire chemistry 😮‍💨🤌🏻 The smut and desperation for eachother is so hot! I love how possessive Ransom is with us from go 😌 Also “Treasure” 🥰

I still can’t believe this is the same Ransom and Treasure from their first installment. I was worried he was going to be an abusive asshole, but this glimpse into how they first met and got together has me all ☺️

When the world was ending all those years ago, one question you never thought you’d ask was “Will anyone care that I’m not bonded with this person I’m dating?” And you DEFINITELY didn’t think the answer was “Yes. Very much so.”

But, with little left on the Snowpiercer, genuineness was coveted. You may not be able to shower every day, or get decent rations, or even be able to sleep for longer than 3 hours at a time, but goddamn if you weren’t bonded!!

Like, never see them again, split up.

“It’s not like…” You couldn’t stop yourself from keeping your voice hushed, “It’s not like they can read our minds, right?”

Curtis was being very kind and let you voice your innermost anxious thoughts. He leaned heavily against the tiny, makeshift table, a serious look on his face as he nodded along. Curtis knew just as well as you did, it wasn’t just the “genuineness” that mattered. Partnerships were tested constantly, if you couldn’t prove over and over that you were somehow deeply biologically tied to your partner then they’d split you up.

“Right… we hardly have consistent heating, so it’d be shitty of them to keep a secret memory reader hidden away somewhere.”

His monotone joke was enough for you to crack a strained smile.

It wasn’t like you didn’t like Curtis. He was nice! He was very courageous and stood up for all of you in the Tail. But, y'know, love (or even being BONDED) was something much more than just safety.

Maybe, in another time, you’d have sought out a genuine connection with him. A connection that wasn’t overshadowed by limited time and basic necessities.

“Yes, right,” an unconvincing, breathy laugh followed, “So, to make sure I got it all right…”

You wet your lips and looked down at the imaginary timeline you’d both conjured on the table. Using the scratches in the metal as marking points you rehashed the plan.

It was simple in concept, but was laborious in reality. You’d already been setting up the ground work for weeks, maybe even months. Getting “caught” in private talking, sneaking away to the others loft late at night, sharing rations.

But that wasn’t enough to convince those who gave you supplies to give you more. Friendship was great, but partnerships were more serious. Partnerships implied stability. Partnerships implied connection. Partnerships implied power.

So, to convince even your closest friends that you and Curtis were more than that, tonight was the big moment. And the moment you were dreading.

“We get new rations in,” you glanced out, peering through the slim doorway at the sleeping cart. A cluttered mess of rags, sheets, and any form of light your community had managed to scrounge up, “three hours. We sit with the group, act all close, somehow imply something more serious is happening…”

Christ you were bad at this! And worst of all, vocalizing it was making you less confident. The table mocked you, each scratch you traced with your finger felt further from the next. Acting wasn’t your strong suit, and purposefully lying about the deep, “biologically driven” connection you had was beyond impossible.

Curtis could sense your distress. Hell, anyone with a working brain could sense it! He covered your hand with his, forcing your eyes to focus on him instead of the table, “Hey, you’re right, you’ve got the plan memorized.”

You peaked up at him through your lashes. Greeted with a tired smile, deep creases around his mouth, and crows feet that framed his blue eyes. Deep breath in, deep breath out… You nodded.

“We spend the night with company,” Curtis continued for you, “I - awkwardly - will try to get us alone, but we go to that nook that still can carry sound. I’ll make up a tangent about the before times, marriage, and regular proposing… all you have to do is say yes.”

“Right, yes.” 

He said it so confidently. He was so sure it was going to be easy that you feared you’d be the entire reason this failed. 

With three hours to kill, and unfortunately no work to keep you busy, you were left alone with your thoughts.

You didn’t have to lie about feeling nauseous, the knots in your stomach were very real. And with rations coming soon, no one else was in the rest lofts.

Your bed was in a different section than Curtis’ was. On the bottom of the stack, shoved to a back corner. With it just being you, you had ample privacy. Over the last few years you saved up excess fabric to make a curtain around your bunk just so you could savor every ounce of privacy.

What you really should’ve been doing was napping, but your racing mind refused. 

“C'mon,” you mumbled, tossing and turning. Closing your eyes didn’t help, you still felt like you were staring straight through your eyelids!

However, if there was anything this train had taught you, it was how to wade through messy thoughts.

I can’t sleep because I’m anxious.

Easy enough to confirm. A rolling stomach, hot and cold flashes, and clammy hands. Simple diagnosis of nerves.

I’m anxious because I feel like I’m lying.

Half true. Yes, lying to your friends puts up mental barriers between you and them. But was it lying?

Lying would only be true if Curtis and I weren’t bonded.

There’s one of the biggest hurdles. Are you bonded?

That was harder to deconstruct. When you were little, your parents told you that bonding was a telltale sign that you’d met your soulmate. Or whatever other equivalent of “perfect match” other adults talked about. 

Every partner you’d ever had made you think you were bonded. Your parents said it was because you cared too much, wore your heart on your sleeve, so you reasoned your devotion was something more.

When you asked what being bonded felt like, no one could explain it.

So, were you bonded with Curtis?

You cared for him very deeply, that much was clear. He helped everyone get their shit in order, stood up for others, and was fiercely protective.

And he’s cute. The little voice in the back of your mind chirped.

Yes, that was also something to consider.

With limited resources to shower or any kind of self care, it was impressive you still found anyone attractive.

Blue eyes that were the clearest window to his mind. There was a warmth there that made you dream of the beach and ocean again, not pure ice and snow.

It contrasted with the rest of him - and the train in general. Broody nature before you got to know him, grime and dirt from the lack of showers you got, and the dreary lighting on the train.

He also had a large presence. Tall, broad, big hands. Big… big hands.

Well, great. 

Because you’d worked yourself up over this your body started confusing the stress with horniness.

You rolled onto your stomach and muffled an annoyed groan into your pillow.

Three hours… you just needed to wait out three hours.

It took you some convincing, but you’d managed to get out of bed and dressed nice.

As nice as possible. Your pants and sweater with the least amount of holes.

How silly it was. When you were little you sometimes fantasized about getting engaged. Maybe you’d be out at a fancy restaurant, dressed to the nines, sipping wine and gazing out the window to the bustling city alive even at night.

Maybe you’d be on the beach. Collecting shells and smelling salt as warm sand was crushed between your toes.

Maybe.

You stood in your planned spot, lingering just out of sight from one of the group cars that had a makeshift living room.

Footsteps started towards you, heavy and purposeful, and you startled at the noise. It didn’t take more than a moment to rationally calm down, it clearly was Curtis.

“Hey,” he mumbled, blocking your view.

“Hey.” You whispered in reply.

He looked nervous. His hands tucked into his pockets and he was breathing more deeply than normal. Nothing incredibly out of the ordinary, but enough for you to notice. 

You decided not to point it out. Instead you peered around him, barely peaking over his shoulder. There was somewhat lively chatter, laughter faint enough to have your ears straining, but loud enough you couldn't suppress your own smile.

“Are we gonna…?” You looked at him and gestured back, “A nap helped, I’m much less nervous.” You whispered, your smile becoming a bit more sheepish in admission.

“No.” He awkwardly held his arm out to stop you, eyes growing wide. You were taken aback and stopped suddenly to avoid walking straight into his arm. Curtis softly cleared his throat and leaned down to speak softer, “I, uhm, I told them I was waking you up. Figured we’d give it enough time to let them start thinking. Yeah?”

You hummed and nodded in understanding, shuffling back enough to give you both more room.

“Guess we’re stuck here for a while then, huh?” You sucked in a breath through your teeth and tilted your head up at him.

Curtis returned a small smile, leaning against the wall next to you, “Only a little while,” he shrugged, “but you are typically a heavy sleeper.”

It was hard not to roll your eyes and grumble and pout at his teasing jab. You lightly slapped his chest and he made a dramatic, yet hushed, groan of pain.

“Ouch, beating me up? How rude.” He nudged your foot with his, you returned the motion.

“You’re being dramatic,” you grinned and peaked around the corner, faintly able to see Tanya and some of the others gathering around one of the tables.

He followed your gaze, “No, I’m serious, you probably broke a rib or two.” Curtis tried to look serious, but the corner of his mouth twitched into a smile, betraying him.

Curtis then stiffened. He shifted from calm to on edge in an instant, the clearest sign being how his pupils dilated.

He grabbed your elbow and stood stiffly straight.

“Kiss.” he mumbled, eyes flickering over to where Tanya could barely see you two from around the corner.

Without a pause, you immediately grabbed the front of his shirt and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. You’d both instigated the well timed PDA from time to time, though, Curtis was better at gauging when the more risque PDA was called for.

“One… two… three…” you softly counted, breath ghosting over his lips. The actual kiss was because you were terrible at faking one, the weird half inch gap between your faces was to keep up that illusion.

He softly laughed, you could feel his breath on your face. He didn’t move, his hand still cupping the back of your head, “Alright, we’re good, I think she saw.”

“Ok great!” You grinned and pulled back. Though your nerves were on high alert, there was no time left to worry about selling the story. Because, really, if you weren’t trapped on this train, if this was the before times, what would you have said you and Curtis were?

Sleeping in the same cot most nights. Sneaking away to have company with just each other. Sharing meals. Protecting each other. At the very least, you’d say you were dating.

He returned a thin lipped smile and slowly pulled his hands away, “Do you want me to do most of the talking?”

You opened your mouth, ready to immediately say yes. But there was an air of calmness that was settling in your bones. Maybe it was because Curtis seemed so… at ease.

“No,” you finally answered, though a little more uncertain than him, “It’s just us and some other friends… I can handle it.”

Very rarely did you all let yourselves talk about before the train. It just confused those who only ever knew of the Snowpiercer, made the oldest of you sad, and typically just made the rest of the day gloomy. Gloomier than it already was.

But Tanya must’ve been in a reminiscent mood.

“Where’d you grow up?” She cleared a spot for you to sit on a pad next to her. Edgar fidgeted with scraps of cloth, pulling apart the fibers. “Where in America?”

“Oh,” you blinked down at the floor, a little taken aback by the question. “My family moved around a bit. For a while I was in Montana, then Georgia for a few years… Right before the train I was in Connecticut.”

Curtis sat next to you, leaning back on his hands yet keeping one arm behind you. He seemed to realize it before you did, but the question rocketed you back into your own memories.

You were 16 when you got on the Snowpiercer. Living on the third floor of a historic apartment in South Central Connecticut. Just your parents and you, the youngest of your siblings and the last to go to college.

Project management… Architecture… Design… That’s what you’d wanted to do.

Cramming for the ACT, SAT, finals, and building a portfolio all before your senior year. You were gonna get a full ride and --

And there was something else. You were going to do something else. Was it with someone? You were still planning on staying in Connecticut, right? Fuck, what was it?

“Hey,” Curtis whispered and nudged you, pulling you out of the fog. You blinked, unshed tears managed to stay that way as you deeply inhaled crisp air.

You must’ve only been zoned out for a moment, Tanya was asking everyone the same questions.

Edgar didn’t know where his parents were from, Tanya herself was from Nevada, Gloria from Tennessee, others from Iowa, Kansas, North Dakota… It was crazy to think that in any other world you wouldn’t have known each other.

“Curtis?” Tanya asked, finishing up the circle.

“My parents were from Michigan, but I grew up in New York.” You mouthed the words as he said them, having memorized both states the moment he first told you.

How close did the two of you actually live? Had you ever crossed paths in those trips to New York you’d made? If your parents moved there instead, would you have been in the same high school? Studied for the same tests? Gone to the same college?

Talk of family was of course the next to follow. Living and dying on this train was one thing, but those older than you who had the chance to live in houses, rent apartments, live in a van, have kids, see grandparents, become grandparents… Their stories now seemed just as fictitious as dragons and fairies.

Gloria was engaged before the Snowpiercer, her fiance died soon into the shift. One man had just gone to his son's wedding, he never knew if they made it on or not.

You leaned into Curtis more, head against his shoulder. Luckily one woman had a lighter tale, she was one of the oldest people here, her husband and daughter made it safely and her husband died just a year or two ago. Her daughter sat next to her, sadly smiling. 

“Were you bonded?” Your voice was foreign to you and it took you a moment to realize you were even the one who spoke.

The woman looked up at you, her own sad smile brightened and she nodded, “If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t know any different. He was perfect. My family still is.”

Family. How sweet. Your stomach ached, you were getting hungry again. Curtis’ thumb lightly rubbed your hip bone, subtle enough to settle you. People murmured to each other, speaking a little softer now. This was always the precursor to that gloom.

Curtis cleared his throat loud enough for everyone to hear though his eyes stayed casted down at the floor. 

This was it. Game time.

“Can I talk to you for a second?”

The back area was nicer. Quiet and calm. But it didn’t do enough to soothe the racing in your heart.

This was the last scratch on the table, the last tick mark you’d planned out. Anything else was up to chance. 

He grabbed your hand with one of his, his other hand cupped your face.

“Hey.” He whispered with enough conviction to pull your focus, but soft enough that you could melt into his safety.

“Hey.” You echoed, feeling the waver in your voice.

“Just like we planned, yeah?” He half smiled, the faintest smile line on his cheek.

“Exactly like we planned.”

And even still, it was beyond real as Curtis knelt down. 

 “I wish we met at a different time,” He started to say, rolling back his shoulders and shifting on his knees, “When we didn’t have to worry about being warm or having another meal…”

For some reason you’d never fully envisioned this moment. A part of you assumed he’d just give the whole spiel, with a straight face, and slap the ring on your finger. But seeing him knelt down, holding out a makeshift wire ring, stuttering through his speech… Christ, your heart was hammering tenfold.

He cleared his throat and tried to settle his nerves with a deep breath. You could feel his anxiety radiating off of him and you wanted nothing more than to help him in some way. His thumb rubbed the wire of the ring, the glass catching stray light while he fidgeted.

You could feel tears in your eyes and you anxiously wrung your hands together, “Me too.” you mumbled.

“I have no idea what the future holds, but what I do know is that I want you by my side for every second of it.” Curtis looked down at the ring, the simple wire and glass shard he’d smoothed out. There was a conflict in his eyes, he looked back up at you with a profound sadness.

He said your name, pained and slow, “You deserve better than this…”

Your throat was dry and tight, your eyes were brimming with tears and all you could do was quickly shake your head.

“No I don’t!” You blubbered, stepping closer and grabbing his hands. At your touch, his face visibly softened and showed his age a little more. You winced, realizing how poorly that came out, “Curtis, there isn’t anything better here than you…”

You could’ve melted into a puddle right there as he smiled. A tired, but convinced smile. He stood and slipped the ring on your finger. You tipped your head up to hold his gaze.

You couldn’t explain why this closeness felt so different than any other time. The numerous kisses, hugs, and held hands was nothing compared to the way his hands delicately held you. Tight enough to keep you there, but light enough that he might’ve thought you were nothing more than a delicate flower.

Curtis’ brows pinched together for a moment. “Can I kiss you?” He whispered, fingers twitching to try and hold you tighter.

“Oh, yes, please.” You pleaded.

Air left your lungs as his lips met yours. It was tentative and slow yet you still felt that rush of electricity through your body. 

In your head, you counted. One… two… No, no! You willed the analytical bullshit from your mind and just focused on the ring on your finger and his hands on your body and his lips on yours and the way you both shakily gasped for breath while maintaining the kiss.

And then you felt it.

What it was was that click in your mind. The perfect and satisfying sensation of putting two yearning pieces together. 

A warmth bloomed in your chest and a buzz of electricity followed. All you really knew for certain was that it was all his doing.

Maybe, just maybe, it was a bond.

He also had a large presence. Tall, broad, big hands. Big… big hands.

😏😏😏

Ohhhhhh they have me in my feels so hard 😭 I really loved the ending in particular. It is a bond, because I say so 😌

Oh, also! I love Curtis being playful and telling his bad jokes. A total bub!

“Your grandmother didn’t leave that place to you to drive into the ground.” Your mother tuts.

No, she left it to you because she knew your mother would do worse. Still, you haven’t exactly lived up to her legacy. You suppress another salty exhale.

“I don’t know, mum. People just can’t afford vacations anymore.”

“Rich people are getting richer. Don’t bullshit me.” She chides.

You close your eyes and dig the tip of the pen into the paper. You drop it as she goes into another lecture. How would she know? She hasn’t bothered to drive down here since she stormed out of the lawyer’s office, accusing you of stealing her inheritance. Three years and you hope it’s longer before you have to face her again.

You close the guest book and push it aside.

“Mum, I got it. I’ll… I’ll see if I can update the listings–”

“You need renos! No one wants that old lady shit your grandma thought was so ‘proper’,” she contorts her voice in imitation. “Ugh, that’s why she hated me. Because I always knew bet–”

Her words fade into the background as your ears center on another sound. A steady tempo growing closer and closer until it’s walking across the front porch. You gulp as you see the shadow pass by the curtains. You stand up straight.

“Mum.”

“Don’t interrupt me–”

“There’s a guest.” You say as the door handle clicks.

“Oh, you’re actually going to work? Colour me surprised–”

The door opens and the air vacuums out of the room. You stare at the man as he walks in calmly, unbothered by the streaks of unidentifiable sludge from his head to toe. Not even as it cakes in the line of hair above his mustache.

“I have to go.”

You hang up without awaiting her appalled protest. You clear your throat and swallow, nearly choking. The man stops on the other side of the counter and reaches into his jacket pocket. He wipes the card with his thumb before he lays it down on the desk. It’s from the stack you had printed out to hand out to guests, just a little worse for wear.

“You got a room free?” He asks.

For the layers of brown, black, and red smeared over him, his blue eyes shine brighter, burning into you like the center of blow torch. Your voice locks up in your chest. It’s more than your usual anxiety.

 “Don’t go saying no. There’s not a damn car outside except one.” He insists. Not the best look, especially when the only vehicle is the beat up oldsmobile that came with the place.

“Sure.” You finally pluck up a sliver of strength. “I’ll get you booked in, sir.”

You move behind the computer. He once more reaches into his jacket. This time he takes out a thicker shape. A cylindrical wad of bills.

“No names. Put an out of order sign on the door.” He stamps down the money. “Got it.”

“Um, but–”

“That’s more than a deposit and night.” He says staunchly.

He doesn’t wait for a response. He struts along the counter and lifts the door. You’re frozen in confusion and fear as he goes to the wall and claims the key for suite 6 from the row.

“Thanks, honey bunches.” He spins on his heels and strides back through the lifted door, flipping it so it slams down loudly.

He doesn’t look back as he goes back outside and jaunts down the steps. You look down at the tread marks on the floor, then the money standing on the counter. Who are you to turn away a windfall? If it’s just one night, you can pretend the rooms are vacant as any other.

🗝️

An hour after the intruder, no, guest, arrived, the phone rings. You answer, expecting your mother to renew her ranting. Instead, you get a blunt greeting.

“Room Service. Laundry pick up. Suite 6.” The man demands and the line clicks.

You stare at the phone. Well, you can’t say it’s any ruder than the alternative. 

You don’t typically offer laundry as a service but you didn’t get the chance to go through the spiel. You put the busy sign on the counter, even knowing it’s not necessary, and out through the front door, careful on the freshly mopped and vacuumed floor and carpet.

The B and B is cute. The main house with the lobby, dining room, and den, fans out into a series of townhouse like suites; six in all. Number 6 is to the very left.

You climb the stonework steps and knock. You wait and wait. Unsure, you go to knock again. The door opens before you can. The singular guest holds out the garbage bag from the bathroom bin.

“Here, sugar cake,” he says.

You’re a bit too stunned to respond. The grimes all washed away to reveal a man with neatly shaved sides and long, slicked back strand on top; a bristle of mustache, the same bright blue eyes, and smooth peachy skin… all over. He stands shamelessly in a towel and nothing else; the little clamshells embroidered into the edge make him look ridiculous, even as the knot holding it up dips down his pelvis.

You try not to look as you take the bag.

“Second thought, throw em out. Third thought, burn them.” He says.

“Oh, uh.”

“Gonna need a new suit, sweet peach,” he says.

“We uh… I don’t think…”

“I’m sure a smart little thing like you can figure it out.” He crosses his arms and leans on the door frame, his bicep bulging even bigger. “I didn’t see a menu.”

“We serve dinner in the dining room–”

“Christ, even at one of those room stays, I can order Dominos.” He huffs.

“I… I’ll bring a menu.”

“You got steak? Make me two, lots of mushrooms. And alcohol. Lots and lots of alcohol.” He points at you with a finger gun. “Thanks, dolly.” He pulls the trigger and pushes off the wall. “Sure know how to treat a guy.”

He backs up and swings the door shut in your face. You cringe and look down at the bag. You have no idea where to get a suit but you agree; there’s really not saving the old one.

🗝️

You return to the room. It’s late. It took more than an hour to get to the first sign of life outside the B and B. The small village didn’t have much. You got two thick T-bones from the butcher, and some chicken just in case, and stopped at the grocer to pick out what was in season. As for clothes, the thrift shop had some flannel shirts and wool slacks you think could fit the stranger.

You cook up the steak as best you can. Typically, you cook things in batches; French onion soup, chicken stew and dumplings, lasagna. You take it to the room with the paper bag of clothes.

Again, you wait a while after knocking. The man answers, in the robe this time. It’s too short on him and the front shows off his furry chest as he holds up his cell phone.

“Signal’s shit, sugar cake.” He complains.

“Yeah, cell towers are pretty… far.” You say.

“Well, you just gonna admire my daily workouts or serve my dinner?” He scoffs.

You wince and he chuckles. You make sure to look anywhere but at him and enter. He looms close so you can’t avoid brushing against him.

You put the plate on the table with the bag of clothes. He stands close and slaps the phone onto the table. “Whiskey? Wine?” He prompts.

“Oh… I’ll check the cabinet–”

He grabs the bag and looks inside. He snorts. “Really?”

“It’s what I could find,” you shrug.

“Well, go get the drinks or stay for the show,” he snips as he tugs at the belt of the robe.

You don’t hesitate. You scurry to the door. He laughs again.

You head back to the front desk and go into the back room. Your grandmother kept a liquor cabinet. There’s some peach schnapps.

You return to Suite 6 and knock. 

“Get in.” The stranger growls from the other side.

You enter as he sits at the table, cutting into the steak. “Medium. I prefer rare.” He chirps through a mouthful. You near and put the bottle down. He scoffs. “It will do.”

He puts the cutlery down and leans back. The flannel shirt is buttoned below his chest but too tight to close higher than that. His arms look ready to burst through the seams. He swipes up the bottle and breaks the seal. He swigs.

“What? You wanna share?” He offers the bottle.

“No, uh. Right. I’ll… go. To the front desk.” You say awkwardly. He thinks that’s funny too.

You leave him and he gulps loudly from the bottle. You close the door and lean against the outside. What a strange man. Or maybe it’s just you who’s being strange.

🗝️

The phone rings and wakes you. Your sleep is shallow enough that you answer on the second ring. Your anxiety keeps you lucid as you struggle to keep your mind off the unknown guest.

“Room Service.” The voice on the other end drawls.

“Sir?” You sit up and sniff, scratching your nose.

“Need room service. Now.” He commands and slams the line clicks.

You sigh and rub your eyes. Everything will be fine. He’s going to leave and you’ll be able to divvy up his night’s stay to pay off some of the bills.

You pull on your patch work robe and step into your slippers. You tuck the masterkey into your pocket then hug yourself as you wade through the dark. You go outside into the orchestra of crickets and swirl of the night breeze. Your teeth chatter as you climb the four stairs to Suite 6.

You knock. Wait. And wait. Just like before but no answer comes before your patience dries up. You try again.

Nothing. You could go back to bed. No, you don’t want to make the trek a second time tonight.

You knock a third time. As you wait, your paranoia has you checking over your shoulder. You bounce on your feet and give into anxiety.

You pull out the master key and slide it into the slot. You twist and cautiously lean into the door. It’s dark inside. The curtains are drawn over the windows to add the obscurity.

“Um, hello?” You search around the front room. “Sir?”

The floor creaks and you spin around. The door is still open but only the night peers in. You hum and turn back.

“Sir… you called–”

The door slams and you yipe. You drop the keys with a deafening jingle as you jump. Before you can turn again, something wraps around you from behind.

“I did…” the man slurs as he squeezes your tight. “You know, this place isn’t half bad but it’s… boring.”

The last word is sharp, low. He nuzzles your hair as he snarls. You grab at his forearms and squirm.

“Sir? How much did you drink?” You whine.

“Shh, shh, shh. Babykins, you think I don’t see you feel it too? You’re pent up here… desperate.” He sniffs your hair and drones. “Then a big hunk like me walks in, straight out of a smut rag, huh?”

“Wha– uh, no. Please, let me go–”

“Tell me that pussy isn’t getting all hot and bothered,” he grits behind your ear. “Come on, sweet cheeks. You know I got the goods. You thought that stack I gave you was thick…”

“Stop!” You yelp and push your elbows back into him. “You’re drunk–”

“Oh, baby, you don’t know.” His hand moves to your neck as his other arm stays around your middle. “I fucking love it rough.”

He takes you off your feet and you kick out. He squeezes your throat and you wriggle madly as you try to slip free. He angles toward the old sofa and pushes you down on it, straddling you beneath him.

You grab at the upholstered arm and frilled trimmed pillows. He chortles and grinds against you as he pins your shoulders with his hands.

“No. Please. I… I didn’t–”

“Can’t go without leaving a good tip for the service, can I?” He taunts as he shifts and tugs at the back of your robe. You whine and reach back, trying to swat him away. He laughs. “Keep fighting, it’s only making me throb.”

He pushes your hand away easily and yanks free the last few inches of the robe, your night gown sticking to the inside. “Baby, you didn’t even offer me dessert and you got all this cake.”

“Please,” you whimper.

“I know, you're begging for it.” He backs up and grabs your hips. “Don’t worry. I got more to give than you can take.”

He raises your hips as your legs quake. You try to pull away and he wrenches you back. He slaps your ass with one hand, the impact and noise radiating.

“Don’t fucking move.” He digs his nails in.

You shudder and stop. You close your eyes. You don’t want to give up but what else can you do? He’s stronger, he’s scary, and there’s nowhere to go. You have one option; the only real choice is whether you make it worse.

He groans as he pushes himself off the sofa. He turns you and guides your hands to the back of the couch. He curls your fingers around the wooden trim and issues an order; stay.

He drags off your robe and tosses it. Your night gown slips but he catches it. He dips his fingers under the elastic of your underwear and rolls them down to your knees.

He hums again and lowers himself behind you. You twitch and lean away from him. He grabs your hips again and pulls your ass back. He slides his hands along the side of your cheeks and pushes them apart.

You feel his breath and pucker. He leans in as you squirm and he snickers. You let out a cry as his cool tongue swipes your hole. He laughs again.

“Tasty,” he teases as he smacks his lips.

Without pause, he dives in. He spreads his tongue wide and drags it up and down your ass. His saliva stains your skin as he laps you up, tilting his head as he gets further down to poke around your cunt. You groan and grip the couch harder.

He pulls back and sighs in delight. “It’s okay, peachy pie, you can make as much noise as you like…” He growls. “Who the fuck’s gonna hear you?”

He delves back in. You wriggle and reach to push on his head. He rips your hand away and puts in his hair, guiding you to urge him deeper. You whine as his tongue pokes at your ring then swirls around and around.

He wiggles his head with a snarl and once more pulls away. He lets go of your hand and squeezes your hip as he leans onto you. He stands and pulls your knees back.

“You’re really going to wanna hang on for this,” he taunts.

He steps closer and plants one knee inside yours; then does the same with his other. His knuckles graze your ass as he pumps himself. He presses to your back and snakes an arm down your body. 

He slides a finger between your lips and tuts. “Why you acting so goddamn sweet when you’re already soaked for me?” He snickers and flicks your clit. You spasm and slap his hand.

“You wanna slap, we can slap,” he warns.

You put your hand back on the couch and he bends his head next to yours. His lips tickle beside the strap of your night gown as he explores your cunt. He frames your entrance with his index and ring fingers. He dips his middle finger inside you as he nibbles your shoulder muscle.

He pulls in and out, in and out. He moves behind you again and guides his tip along your wet ass to your cunt. He exhales as he pushes his head into you, right next to his finger. Your voice breaks free and you screech.

“Ha, you better relax.” He warns as he sinks in another inch. “I don’t wanna tear up such a nice pussy… but I will.”

Your eyes prickle with tears and he bucks his hips. You whimper and he bites down on the crook of your neck and shoulder. You touch his head, clutching at the longer strands of his hair, as he pushes into his limit.

He slides back, keeping just his tip in you, and unclamps his teeth. He lifts his head up and puffs into your hair as he thrusts in again. He lurches you whole body as you cling to the couch and squall.

He drags his hand away from your cunt, leaving a wet line up your pelvis and torso. He grabs your chin as his other hand comes up behind your head. He grips you between splayed fingers and leans back as he pumps into you with deep long strokes. You whine and wail as gasp for air; your heart beat racing between the tempo of his cruel thrusts.

“Well, you just gonna admire my daily workouts or serve my dinner?” He scoffs.

Lollllll. Okay but also ✋🏻 Like he doesn’t enjoy the admiration lol.

“Then a big hunk like me walks in, straight out of a smut rag, huh?”

Hahahahaha I’m cackling. The smut rag being tumblr. Well, before the puritan invasion 🤡

“Baby, you didn’t even offer me dessert and you got all this cake.”

Lollll Roooooo! 🤣 I love how much fun you have with Lloyd ❤️

Shockingly, it wasn’t so much sadness you felt as you realized the inevitable had happened–that your village had finally been conquered by the royal army–it was… nothing. You felt nothing at this revelation, although in the deep recesses of your mind, a quiet voice admonished that you should be ashamed for being so heartless. 

You shrugged away those thoughts, however, because there was a reason you were out in the wilderness all on your own, and had been for weeks. There was a reason why you were near delirious from hunger and dehydration, and you were as close to Death’s doorstep as you had ever been before. 

And as far as you were concerned, none of it was your fault. 

The familiar burn of anger and betrayal rose within you, making your eyes fill with furious tears as you shoved away from the tree and staggered forward, continuing your trek, as stupid and reckless as it was. 

Because you were heading straight for the enemy’s camp. 

It was senseless, you knew, dangerous, but you were so very hungry, and lured closer by the warm, comforting aroma that wafted toward you, promising something hearty and delicious to chase away the pangs of hunger stabbing through your belly. 

You had heard that the king took great care of his people–his royal army even more so–and your frazzled, hazy mind could only imagine the kind of feast they would indulge in tonight to celebrate their victory over your former people. 

The soldiers would be so lost to their revelry that it would be easy for you to just slip in and out of the perimeter of their camp. Take a small ration for yourself, a spare waterskin, too, just to keep you going, to keep you alive until you were far enough away from your village to be safe at last. 

And it was much easier to focus on this one task–find food and water–than the whole complicated and messy situation you now found yourself in. 

Your steps did not falter as you approached the edge of the camp. It had been set up in the large field on the outskirts of town, was now situated with numerous tents and horse-drawn carriages filled to the brim with supplies. 

There was one such carriage a few yards before you–left unattended–just like the crates set outside it. You could see rounds of bread peeking over the edge of the top crate, and your mouth began to water, your eyes too, as hopeful tears finally made an appearance and spilled over, streaking your dirty cheeks. 

You were too focused on the glorious food before you to realize you were no longer alone, and just as your trembling fingers gripped the crusty round of bread and pulled it free, you were grabbed from behind. 

You whimpered as you felt the cool blade of a knife beneath your chin, tipping up your frightened face as you clutched the bread to your chest and stuttered out an apology. 

“Save your sniveling,” a gritty voice snapped as a big hand closed around your arm and began to roughly steer you away from the carriage and further into the enemy’s camp. “You picked the wrong man to steal from, our fierce commander,” your captor rumbled. “And now you shall meet him and face the consequences.”

You were led to the largest tent, many a soldier’s wandering eye following your forced march, hoots of laughter and lewd taunts trailing you as you passed by. 

But you did not wilt under the attention–you would not–you had been through far too much already, and if you were to meet your gruesome fate this night, you would so with your head held high and your spine as straight as steel. 

Despite your brave thoughts, your stomach roiled with fear as you were brought before two hulking men, the leaders of the army, you assumed. They sat on a log before the fire outside their tent, talking quietly as they enjoyed their meal.

The bigger of the two had short blond hair neatly swept back from his handsome face, his shoulders as broad as you had ever seen and stretching the dark blue material of his tunic. The other man was beefier and brunette, his hair shaggy and curling over the collar of his red tunic as his dark eyes danced with amusement at whatever they discussed. 

You only had but a moment to drink them in before the man behind you roughly threw you to the ground at their feet as an introduction. To your great shock, rather than laugh or jeer like the other men had at your predicament, these two both looked disproving of your captor’s behavior. 

“Have care, you brute,” the brunette admonished. “That is no way to treat one so fair.”

“I caught her stealing a round of bread.” Your captor explained, holding the loaf aloft like it was the most damning of evidence. 

And you supposed it was. 

“Give it to her,” the blond man said calmly. 

You gaped at him, still sprawled in the dirt at his feet as your captor spoke behind you, sounding as flabbergasted as you yourself felt. 

“Come again, commander?”

“She’s clearly starving.” The commander rose to his feet, the sheer size of him making you tremble. 

You had no doubt that this man was the leader of the rest. Everything about him screamed strength, power, and authority–from the confident way in which he held himself, to the impressive sword gleaming at his hip.  

He drew closer to you, and you tried to scramble away, but with your captor at your back, you had nowhere to go and instead whimpered in fear–loathing the weak sound the moment it fell from your lips. 

“Be calm, fair one,” the blond murmured softly as he reached for you. His grip on your arm was firm but not painful as he pulled you to your feet before ushering you to the seat he himself had just vacated. Once you were sat, he pressed his own steaming bowl of stew between your shaking hands. “Eat.” 

You heard the brute from earlier huff, then turn on his heel and begin to stomp away, but the brunette beside you stayed his retreat with a terse, “Leave the round of bread for our guest.” 

And just like that, you suddenly had more food being offered to you–by the enemy–than you had eaten in weeks. 

The realization, and the shock of it all, had you going silent and curling in on yourself. You were scared, as much as you hated to admit it, even more afraid than you had been the day you had fled your homeland. 

The day you had fled for your life. 

Because now, you had foolishly gone and run straight into enemy territory. And if you thought that trying to survive on your own, with no food or shelter or anyone to help you, had been a challenge, you could only imagine what was in store for you now. 

And how ironic a fate, that in fleeing to survive, you had run straight to your doom.  

You watched warily as the army commander stepped away. He turned to his attendant who stood just outside the tent entrance, and although he kept his voice low, you could hear him request a bath be drawn for you for after you supped. 

Your face burned, because for the first time since you had left your home, you found yourself worrying about your appearance. You could only imagine how dreadful and unbecoming you looked after weeks out in the wild. 

Eyes dipping past the bowl of stew in your grip, you realized for the first time just how filthy you were. Your dress, which had once been a light gray and cream combo was now stained dark, covered in dirt and grime, and your boots were nearly worn straight through from your travels. 

Although you weren’t a true maiden–those didn’t exist in your poor village–you had always tried to take care of yourself and present well, and now that was yet another thing from your former life that you had lost.

The commander easing into the spot beside you broke you from your thoughts. As his arm brushed yours, you realized that you were now pinned between the two largest, most competent looking warriors you had ever seen.

The flare of panic was instant, and strong, and yet… you couldn’t help the curiosity that rose up within you. Trying to be subtle about it, you peeked back and forth on either side of you, amazed by the way that these two men defied what you had always been told–and imagined–about conquerors. 

They did not appear violent nor foul. In fact, they both looked freshly bathed, their clothing much finer than any you had seen before. But you supposed if they were as accomplished and victorious as you had heard about the king’s royal army, then they must want for very little, even in the field.

You glanced around the camp, observing that the other soldiers looked well-fed, their tents in very decent shape. They looked less like a crew of brutal savages and more like a noble party. 

Which only made you feel even more out of place. But you tried your best to push that aside, along with your anxiety and lingering fear, because more than anything–and most importantly–you were famished. As the incredible aroma of the commander’s stew filled your nose, your stomach gurgled loudly, causing the brunette beside you to bark a laugh. 

Cheeks warming with humiliation, you curled in on yourself, cradling the bowl to your chest as you gripped the spoon and began to shovel the stew into your mouth, forgetting your manners entirely. 

“Pace yourself, or your dinner will return before it's even settled in your belly,” the commander chided, but his voice was colored with amusement, his blue eyes sparkling with mirth as he watched you peek over at him as you slowed the pace of your eating. 

“Does our guest have a name?” the brunette asked you. At your hesitation–your fear put on plain display–his gaze softened. “I am Ari, and this is Steve,” he gestured toward the blond. “He is our fearless commander, and I am his irresistibly handsome lieutenant."

The urge to laugh was strong, but you suppressed it, still untrusting of these strangers as you took a moment to chew your food. Swallowing your mouthful, you licked your dry lips before quietly murmuring your name. 

Ari echoed your name in his deep baritone, making your belly flutter for some reason, and you found yourself quickly looking away, as he asked, “What is a woman doing out in the wild all on her own?”

It was as if Ari’s acknowledgement of your circumstances–and he and Steve witnessing your desolate state–made everything more real, made it all come rushing back to you now, as fresh as when it had first happened. You felt the familiar anger and resentment flood you, but you felt a well of shame too as you admitted, “If I did not flee my home, I would have been executed.”

Steve straightened beside you, a tic popping in his jaw as he stared at you for a long, quiet moment before he shared a look with Ari. “Well, now we are quite intrigued, brave one,” he told you.

Ignoring the flutter in your chest at the endearing title, you explained yourself, feeling an unexpected sense of relief as you were allowed to tell your story–your truth–to those willing to listen. 

Even if they were the enemy.

“My betrothed,” you sneered at the mention of him, “defiled my younger sister, so I made sure he would never defile another again. His father, who had bribed my own into the forced union, called for my head for maiming his heir and ending his family line. When it was clear that none would come to my defense nor aid, not even my own kin, I ran.”

There was a long, tense moment of silence once you finished speaking. You could feel the gravity of the situation settle over you–your new burden to bear–as Steve and Ari took a moment to process your tale. 

“We are not so different then,” Ari murmured eventually, sounding impressed by you and what you had done. “Fighting to protect those we love.”

You couldn’t help but scoff. “We are nothing alike. You are conquerors.”

“Conquerors to your people, protectors to ours,” Steve rebutted as you glanced over at him. The corners of his lips curled slightly as he dipped his head to meet your fierce, fiery gaze head on. “I wonder, what shall we be to you, brave one?”

There was something in Steve’s words, something intimate with a touch of impropriety, that had you shivering. That made your breath stutter and catch in your chest as you stared at him, unsure of how to respond. 

It was starting to dawn on you at that moment, that perhaps you weren’t as in danger as you had originally presumed.

Nothing in the way Steve and Ari watched you spoke of violence or ill intent. Your eyes fell to your lap, to the empty dinner bowl cradled in your hands. They had willingly fed you, shared their very own rations with you–a stranger, an exile–and shown you the type of kindness and understanding that not even your own family had been able to muster. 

After everything you had done to protect and avenge your sister.

A well of sorrow at that realization opened deep within you, making your vision swim with the onslaught of tears that you furiously blinked away. Luckily, before you could try to cobble together a response, Steve’s attendant appeared, announcing that your bath was ready. 

“Go on,” Steve encouraged softly, his big hand warming the small of your back as he used the other to take your empty bowl. “You shall have your privacy for as long as you need it.”

Once again, you found yourself staring at him in disbelief. A hot meal in your belly, and now the promise of being clean. It perhaps seemed so small a thing, but to you, right now, after everything you had endured, it was the ultimate luxury. 

The ultimate kindness. 

At the unexpected luck–not doom–that had befallen you, you finally lost the battle with your tears, a few escaping that you quickly batted away as your insides curdled with embarrassment. 

“I’m sorry, I’m just… overwhelmed,” you quavered, slowly rising to your feet, your sore and exhausted body protesting the entire time. 

You took a step before pausing, swaying on your feet as you rung your fingers before you then peeked over your shoulder. Your shy gaze darted from Ari to Steve as you whispered, “Thank you.” 

Ari gave you a big, beaming smile, and Steve? His smile wasn’t as boyish, but it was there, and it was genuine. 

And as you turned to scurry into the tent, you could feel both of their gazes on you the entire time.

You could have spent hours in your bath, well, if the water hadn’t cooled and dirtied so quickly. But by the time you emerged, you felt like a new woman. 

Just as Steve’s attendant had promised, some clothing had been laid out for you at the foot of one of the large beds that filled the space. There were two of them within the tent, as well as the bathing area behind a folding partition, and a small writing desk tucked in the corner. The ground had been covered with an array of rugs, and you took just a moment to allow your bare toes to enjoy the soft warmth beneath your feet instead of the cold, harsh earth you had grown accustomed to over the past couple of weeks.

You dried yourself with a blessedly clean towel before moving toward the clothes awaiting you. You swallowed nervously as you realized it was no more than a long, linen shirt that left your legs bare once you quickly pulled it on. And it was instant, the way you were enveloped in a familiar scent that took your tired brain a moment to realize was Steve’s.

The commander of the king’s royal army himself had let you borrow his clothing. 

Something about the gesture had your insides warming exponentially, had something deep at the core of you fluttering and clenching all at once. 

You supposed after the way your former betrothed had treated you–like a possession to own, not a person–it was flattering to be cared for by another, especially one so fearsome and powerful. 

“Are you decent?”

You startled at the sound of Steve’s voice just outside the tent, flustered now as you glanced down at yourself and saw the way the commander’s shirt both shielded your modesty but draped along your body in a way that felt all too revealing. 

“Um, yes?” you trembled the response.

Not a second later, Ari ducked into the tent, his grin big and boyish as his eyes wandered the length of you without shame. “You sounded so unsure I was hoping you were indecent,” he winked.

You could only gape after him as he moved toward the bed opposite where you stood and started to unbuckle his sword belt. 

“I assure you Ari’s brashness does grow on you,” Steve’s voice was amused as he entered the tent, watching his lieutenant fondly. “Eventually.” Turning his full attention to you, he shifted close, his gaze slowly roving over you. “Feeling better?”

“Much, yes,” you mumbled, hugging yourself tightly as you cleared your throat and stepped away. 

The back of your knees hit the edge of the bed, and you squeaked, flailing for a beat before Steve’s  hands shot out, catching your arms and tugging you upright, flush against him. 

“Careful, brave one,” he hummed, his warm breath washing over your face and making you shiver. 

Steve’s body heat began to seep through the thin shirt you wore, and you couldn’t help it as you shuddered and sank against him further, for you hadn’t been this warm in far too long. It took a moment for your brain to catch up with your actions, and you stiffened.

“Forgive me,” you stuttered, face warm as you tried to pull away, but Steve’s grip held firm. 

“No need for that,” he husked, his hands urging you closer before dipping to frame your waist and making your breath hitch. “You’ve been through so much, it is very understandable that you would seek comfort in another, and I am willing to give it to you.” Steve glanced over your shoulder, at Ari, you assumed, as he confirmed, “We both are.”

Your brain was still processing his words when you felt an undeniable heat at your back. 

“It must be lonely out here all on your own,” Ari breathed, planting his hands on your shoulders and giving them a squeeze. “Especially now with winter soon approaching, with everyone you’ve ever known calling for your head.”

Steve gently backed you into Ari, until you were effectively sandwiched between both men. “We can keep you safe, warm, well fed,” he promised. 

“Well pleasured, too,” you could hear the smile to Ari’s words as you felt them rush past your ear. 

You gasped, your face pinching as you glared up at Steve and hissed, “I am not a whore.”

“We do not claim you to be one, but… you could be ours.”

You blinked at him, uncomprehending, and Steve’s face softened. His touch on your waist shifted, until he was gently rubbing along your sides, his gesture one to soothe. 

“You are not the only one who suffers loneliness,” Steve explained. “We yearn for hearth and home and a warm body to sink into after a fierce battle has been won.”

Ari hummed his agreement, the sound a gritty rumble that had your pussy clenching hard before fluttering. His thumbs dug more deeply into your shoulders, rubbing away the tense knots beneath your skin that had built up from weeks of living in stress and terror, of running on pure adrenaline and betrayal. 

You were overwhelmed, your body feeling more alive–and hyperaware–than it had ever felt before. Although you knew you should have been repulsed by their offer, by what they wanted from you, you weren’t. 

You were flattered, and more so than that, you found yourself wanting, truly and shamelessly, for the first time in your whole life. 

But this was something in which you were not versed–not at all–and you didn’t know truly what they wanted, or what to do. So you confessed as much. 

“I do not know about…  any of this.”

“Then allow us to teach you, sweet one,” Ari whispered, pressing a lingering kiss to the side of your throat. 

At the gentle scrape of his beard against your skin, you shuddered hard, a soft, wounded sound rising up the back of your throat–because you had never been touched like this, nor desired in such a genuine yet carnal way. 

You were wanted, by both of these lethal yet beautiful warriors.

You.

The realization made your head buzz and your body vibrate with anticipation. Yet still, you were afraid of the unknown, your voice an unsure quaver as you asked, “You would… be gentle with me?”

“We do not seek to harm you,” Steve promised, his gaze somehow both earnest and fierce as he met your own. “We seek to make you feel good.”

Ari’s voice was playful as he countered, “Although I have a sense that a fiery one like you may one day ask for a harsher touch.”

The idea alone had you squirming between them, a tickle and gush between your legs causing you to press your thighs together. 

Steve noticed your reaction, something sinful igniting in his gaze as he watched you, as he drank in your blatant yet shy desire. His hand lifted, his knuckles trailing down your cheek in the most gentle caress before his fingers caught your chin and forced your gaze to meet his. 

“May I taste these tempting lips?” 

Once again your breath hitched, and you were nodding before your brain fully processed his words. 

“Good girl,” Steve purred, making your pussy flutter wildly as he slowly leaned in. 

The first touch of his plump lips against your own had a rush of heat flooding through your body, making each and every one of your nerve endings sing as his mouth expertly moved against your own. 

Steve’s hands shifted to cradle your face, his touch as soft as the press of his lips against your own. He was being gentle with you–careful–like you were as precious and delicate as spun glass, and the fact that a revered warrior could treat you in such a way had your emotions welling up once again, as well as a new wave of tears. 

They spilled over before you could prevent them from doing so, and Steve slowly pulled away when he tasted the salt of your tears. 

“Do you want to stop?”

You shook your head so quickly that it made him smile and Ari laugh behind you and give your hips a fond squeeze. 

“No, I am sorry,” you took a breath. “I am just so overwhelmed by… all of this. But… not in a bad way.” 

“Mmm, glad to hear it, sweet one,” Ari rumbled against your shoulder, pressing a kiss there before leaning closer. “Because you have no idea what your scent does to me,” he groaned, tucking his face against the crook of your neck and breathing in deep. 

You gasped, a tiny bit scandalized but also thrilled to have such an effect on him. This was still so new for you–this kind of primal attention, being touched in this way, let alone by two devastatingly handsome strangers who seemed to want you so desperately. 

“Oh,” you mewled as Ari began to press a trail of slow, lingering, open-mouthed kisses along your throat. Your head tipped sideways to make more room for him, to encourage him, your eyes fluttering shut at his attention as your nipples pebbled into hard, achy peaks. 

As if he knew your body so well already, Steve’s hands cupped your hips, slowly gliding up your sides–learning the terrain of your body–before he was gently cupping one of your breasts in each of his hands. 

At his sinful touch, you moaned for the first time ever, arching your back on instinct to press more firmly into Steve’s grip. He rewarded you with a deep, satisfied rumble from the back of his throat, touching his lips to yours for good measure as his fingers plucked your nipples through your shirt until you were keening softly. 

“She makes the sweetest sounds,” Ari groaned, his teeth gently nipping your skin and making you whine. 

“I bet something else is just as sweet,” Steve gristled. 

That was all the warning you got before his hand was sliding beneath the tunic you wore and up your bare thigh. It shamelessly pressed its way between your legs, his knuckles caressing just as gently along your bare cunt as they had your face mere moments before. 

“S-Steve,” you trembled, unable to help it as your thighs pressed shut. 

“Shhh, let me get you ready for us, sweet one,” he whispered against your ear. “I’ll make you feel so good, I promise.” 

You shivered as he pressed a lingering kiss to your temple, making a pleased sound as you released a shaky breath and spread your legs to his questing touch. 

As his fingers teased gentle circles around your clit, you made a soft, breathy sound of surprise, biting your lip and tipping your head back against Ari’s shoulder as your legs opened even wider, encouraging Steve’s sinful touch. 

“There you go,” Steve hummed, drawing his fingers up your slit. “You’re so wet and eager for us already, just like I knew you’d be.” His touch dipped lower, growing more firm, and you gasped as he eased a finger into you slowly, spreading your tight walls for the first time ever as you keened and canted your hips against his lewd invasion. 

“Let him work you open, love,” Ari cooed, banding a thick, muscled arm around your waist to keep you firmly in place as Steve explored your pussy for the first time. “Our swords aren’t the only big weapons we wield." 

You couldn’t help but snort at that, making Steve laugh and grin at you, his eyes crinkling in mirth as you dazedly met his warm gaze. As you stared into each other’s eyes he slowly fucked you with his thick finger, nostrils flaring as you squirmed and rocked against his touch eagerly. 

“I know you can take another, our brave love,” he murmured, easing a second finger in beside the first and making you whine at the unfamiliar yet delicious stretch. “You’re so tight, I know it’ll be like heaven to have you on our cocks.” 

“If we ever get to that point,” Ari nearly whined.

“I thought you enjoyed the build up,” Steve teased, exchanging a heated look with Ari over your shoulder. 

This time, Ari’s huff was wordless, his face dipping to your neck once more. You could feel how shaky his breath was as he inhaled your scent, his free hand finding your ass and giving a squeeze. 

“Perhaps we should take pity on him,” Steve said, his eyes twinkling as they met yours. 

Your mouth dropped open as he moved his fingers inside of you faster–deeper–until you were so wet that an obscene squelching noise filled the tent as you cried out and rutted against his hand, desperately seeking something you couldn’t even name. 

When Steve’s fingers suddenly retreated from your sex, you made a sound of dismay, glaring at the commander as he shot you a wink before painting your pouting lips with your own slick.

“Go on, give him a taste,” he smirked at you. Then he was moving so quickly, that between one blink and the next, you were spun around in Ari’s arms, facing him now. 

You froze at the feral state of him, at the almost predatory way in which he was watching you. He was so much bigger than you–his presence all consuming–as his dark gaze flickered to your gleaming lips.  

Ari swooped in without warning, one of his big hands moving to cradle the back of your head and keep you in place as he kissed you with a kind of ferocity that quite literally stole your breath away. 

You sank against him–helpless against his onslaught–your fingers clutching onto his tunic as Ari deepened the kiss. His tongue invaded your mouth, and he groaned at the taste of you, at the way you whined and went pliant in his hold, surrendering to him completely as you desperately tried to keep up with his feral, frantic kisses. 

When he finally pulled away, you were both panting, and you knew if Ari himself wasn’t holding onto you so tightly, that you would have collapsed to the ground by now, because it felt as if all of your bones had melted. 

“Those pretty lips aren’t the only thing I want to taste,” Ari growled. 

Your eyes widened as he backed you closer to Steve’s bed. The commander himself was now leisurely undressing, his gaze smoldering as he watched Ari deposit you on the foot of the bed and tug you right to the edge as he sank to his knees. 

You didn’t resist as Ari tugged Steve’s tunic from your body, and you listened when he told you to lay back and spread your pretty legs. Despite the way it felt like your face was on fire, and you were as vulnerable as you had ever been in your life, you were excited too as Ari settled himself between your legs. 

His palms were warm and rough–heavy too–as they settled on your inner thighs. He pressed your legs as far apart as they would go, lewdly baring your pussy to his gaze. It was as exhilarating as it was mortifying that he–and Steve–could see just how wet and wanting you were. 

Ari groaned as his thumbs tugged your folds apart, and you keened as he leaned in and dragged his broad tongue up the cut of you. You thrashed against the bed as his tongue laved along your clit, giving another throaty, shocked cry of ecstasy when Ari tugged back the hood of your clit and sucked your sensitive bud between his lips.

You sobbed at the overwhelming pleasure that pulsed through you, hips writhing as Ari feasted on you without shame. He lapped at you eagerly, without relent, until your body was trembling with your first ever orgasm, and all the breath evaporated from your lungs as a result. Each and every muscle in your body seized at once as you crested the wave of ecstasy, and when Ari hummed his approval, everything inside of you fluttered and clenched as one. 

“God, look at how pretty you are when you let go,” Ari murmured, not taking pity on your boneless, dazed state as he shoved two thick fingers inside of you, and started working you all over again. 

“Ari!” you whined, trying to twist away–because it was so much–but then Steve was sitting above you on the bed, naked and giving you a soft smile and quiet tut as he gathered both of your hands in one of his before pinning your wrists above your head. 

“Let him have his fun, sweet one, he fought and won a very hard battle today after all.” 

You opened your mouth, but all that came out was a pitiful moan as Ari curled his fingers and started to rub a spot inside of you that you didn't even know existed until now. Your body arched violently as you came, so hard, in fact, that you gushed all over Ari’s hand and wrist, nearly sobbing at the overwhelming pleasure. 

“Mmm, I had a feeling,” his grin was wolfish as it flickered up the length of you before meeting Steve’s lustful gaze. “Look at how sensitive and responsive this pretty pussy is.” 

As if putting on a show, Ari’s fingers retreated from you, and he once against tugged up the hood of your clit with one hand while using the other to rub back and forth so quickly–and effectively–that you were once again orgasming hard, your body writhing and gushing as you were rocked by another wave of intense carnal delight. 

“I think I've effectively warmed her up for you, commander,” Ari grinned. He gave your puffy pussy a soft pat before finally pulling away and giving you a moment to try to catch your breath. 

“As always, your hard work and dedication are much appreciated,” Steve drawled, his voice much lower and huskier than before. 

It had your insides fluttering and standing to attention despite the way it felt as if you had lost all control over your body–your bones liquified from Ari’s feral and thorough attention.

Which is why you were somewhat relieved when Steve shifted over you, and instead of focusing all of his attention on the warm, wet place between your legs, he instead smoothed a hand over your head, lightly touching his lips to yours in a fleeting kiss. 

You blinked up at him, your gaze glossy and almost helpless in a way that had a warm smile curling his lips and something in his eyes going tender. 

Steve’s thumb traced along your cheek, his lips touching the other in another show of unexpected tenderness that had a soft sigh rising up your throat. He turned your face so he could trail his lips along the hinge of your jaw, then he was kissing his way down the side of your throat, purring his delight as you squirmed beneath him. 

Steve took his time as he touched and tasted you, almost methodical in the way he descended your body, on a different kind of quest now as he paid you gentle attention until he could see some of the tension and overwhelm ease from your frame. 

You didn’t realize you were fisting the furs at either side of you until Steve’s hands gently loosened your grip. He eased your arms up, thumbs rubbing circles into your palms until your arms went lax above your head and your eyes fluttered at yet another blessed release. 

You sank further into the bed as Steve pressed your legs apart and settled more heavily against you. It was a different kind of delight to feel his firm, naked body flush to your own. 

You realized it quite suddenly–how safe you felt despite being so out of your depth and doing something so tawdry and unknown to you, with not one but two near strangers. 

You hadn’t known Steve or Ari for long at all, but they had shown you more care and kindness in this one evening than you had received in your entire life. There was an earnestness to them, too, and even though it didn’t make sense, for some reason that you couldn’t explain–one that was more instinctual than anything–you trusted them both.

And you knew it in the deepest part of your being–that they were good men. 

So you weren’t surprised at all when Steve nuzzled his nose along your cheek, his lips seeking your ear to murmur, “Are you able to endure more tonight, sweet one? Or have you had your fill? This beautiful body of yours seems boneless and well-ravished already, and we would not take advantage of you in such a vulnerable state. Say the word, and we will leave you to rest.”

Even though you could feel how much Steve wanted you–could feel the hard, hot press of him searing into the skin of your belly–you knew that he would retreat now, and Ari too, if you requested it. 

Which only made you want them–and want to pleasure them–more. 

“I don’t want to rest now, I want more,” you replied, feeling shy but forcing yourself to meet Steve’s gaze so he could see the truth shining in your eyes. “I want you, and I want Ari, and I want you both to take what you want from me.”

“Such a greedy thing,” Ari teased as he sank onto the bed above your head, sprawling adjacent to you and Steve. 

“And if we want everything?” Steve playfully challenged, allowing his weight to sink against you completely so you could feel all of him. “Would you give it to us?”

“Yes.”

“You are a gift,” Steve husked as he slowly drew his thumb along your lower lip. “One I would covet more than anything else, even a hard-fought victory.”

You swore your heart skipped a beat at Steve’s declaration, your eyes fluttering shut as he dipped close and kissed you slowly, ardently, making sure you felt just how genuine his words were.

When he pulled away, his eyes were the darkest you had seen yet. You shuddered as anticipation raced through you as he moved a hand between your bodies, his fingers drawing along your slit, ensuring you were wet and ready for him. 

Your breath caught when he dragged his hard, heavy cock along your bare cunt, coating himself with your arousal. You squirmed as he lined himself up with your entrance, holding your breath as his hips shifted, and he slowly began to push into you. 

The whimper spilled from your lips before you could suppress it. And not so much from any true pain you felt, but from the sheer strangeness of your body being invaded in this way. 

“Relax, sweet one,” Ari murmured over you, gently petting your head. His touch shifted to your shoulder, giving a squeeze that had you sinking into the furs beneath you and going a bit more pliant. “There you are. It may hurt for a tick, but he’ll make it worth it, just wait and see.”

You knew he was right, so you tried to focus less on the temporary discomfort and more on Steve himself. How big and broad he was–how strong. How gorgeous. The way his nostrils flared when you involuntarily clenched around him, and the weight of his warm palm on your lower belly as he pressed his touch there before his thumb reached down and began to strum your clit. 

“Oh!” you gasped at the added stimulation, your thighs falling further open and your hips shifting in a way that had Steve sinking into you even more. 

He groaned loudly, and it made your pussy flutter wildly, which only made him grunt as he draped himself over you, until your head was framed between his muscled forearms as his hips finally met yours, and he settled within you to the hilt. 

“I was right,” Steve breathed as he dropped his forehead to yours. “Utter heaven.” His lips teased your own, his hips shifting slightly and making you moan at just how full you were, for the first time ever. “Alright?”

You nodded, swallowing hard. Tentatively, you reached for Steve, your hands touching his sides, feeling how soft his skin was, how warm. Your touch gently skimmed higher, and you felt a swell of pride as Steve shuddered in response, because you affected him so. 

Gently, Steve began to rock his hips, moving inside of you with shallow thrusts that had your body lighting up and desperate for me. 

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” Steve panted against the crook of your neck, burying his face there for a beat as he gave a particularly deep rut that made you gasp. “M’sorry–”

“No! Again, please,” you whined, your fingers digging into his bare flesh more firmly as you curled your legs around his hips and urged him closer. “Please, Steve, I need… I need more.”

“Go on, commander, our girl can take it,” Ari purred, sprawling backwards and tucking his hands behind his head, getting more comfortable so he could enjoy the show. “Give it to her good.”

Groaning, Steve lifted his head to meet your gaze, swallowing hard as you nodded in encouragement. He shifted over you, planting one of his hands beside your head to give him more leverage, and then he was sliding out of you almost entirely before fully sheathing himself inside of you again with a slow, deep thrust. 

You keened in response, pleasure ricochetting through your body as you threw your head back and begged for more. 

Steve gave it to you, losing that stoic composure of his little by little, with each new thrust inside your tight, wet heat, with every one of your sweet, wrecked sounds. When his thumb once against found your clit and began to rub, you sobbed his name as you went rigid, your body bowing and jostling as Steve began to fuck you with enthusiasm. 

His free hand slid to your side, then beneath you, lifting your body against his in a way that had his cock delving into you deeper, and at the perfect angle. With each rut of his hips, you cried out in delight, shoving against him desperately–shamelessly eager for more–until everything inside of you detonated at once, your body trembling and writhing as you found your release. 

Steve hissed as you clenched around him hard, setting you back down against the bed so he could frame your hips with his large hands and hold you steady as he pounded into you, chasing his own release now. He gave a wordless shout as he reached his climax, throwing his head back, lost to his own bliss as he buried himself as deep inside of you as possible and throbbed within you, until your cunt was flooded with his warm, creamy seed. 

Panting, Steve sank to his hands and knees, hovering over you for a long moment as you gasped for breath beneath him. You couldn't help it as you reached for him, trailing your fingers up the flexed muscles of his forearm, his bulging bicep, until your touch was cradling his smooth cheek and aiming his dark, satisfied gaze your way. 

He stared at you for a beat before nearly lunging at you, his lips almost frantic against your own as he cupped your cheek and kissed you in a way that was almost as filthy as what the two of you had just done together. 

“You’re incredible,” Steve breathed against your lips. Stealing a final parting kiss before slowly pulling away. His smile was soft as you struggled to meet his gaze, his fingers falling to briefly lace with your own and give a squeeze before he shifted away. 

You enjoyed the sight of Steve’s naked body flexing and moving as he crossed the tent to clean himself up, and before you could fully pout as he disappeared behind the privacy partition, Ari was reaching for you. 

You squealed at just how easily he manhandled you as he rolled you onto your belly and hovered over your back for a moment. 

“I have a very specific way I want you, sweet one,” he rumbled against your ear, giving it a nip and laughing at your squeak. 

He gave your ass a soft spank before tugging you up onto your knees, but when you tried to get your hands beneath you, too, he tutted, big hand collaring the back of your neck and giving a squeeze that made you go still. 

“No, like this,” he murmured, pressing your face back down into the furs beneath you, until your sweaty cheek was against the bed, and your pussy was fluttering at the lewd position you were now in–your ass up and on full display as Ari moved behind you. 

His hands smoothed over the bare curve of your ass, gripping both your cheeks and making you jiggle in a way that had your face flooding with heat, but your pussy gushing too. 

“You are the embodiment of temptation,” he husked, pressing your legs further apart to make room for his massive body. “I can’t wait to fill you with my cock.” 

“Then do it,” you blurted, making Ari bark a laugh. 

“Brat,” he chuckled, giving your ass another smack and earning a moan from you for his effort. “Oh, we will definitely explore that more another time.”

Your belly fluttered at the sinful promise–at the fact that he was thinking of you as part of his future–but then all thoughts in your mind seemed to evaporate as you felt the thick, spongy head of Ari’s cock press against your drippy hole. 

His groan as he slowly pushed into you was loud and shameless and made your cunt flutter up a storm. You moaned as he pressed into you even deeper, taking his time to fill you up, his breath coming out in a harsh pant once he bottomed out and made you keen in the process. 

“Fuck,” he gritted, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as he gave a rut that had him somehow sinking into you even deeper. 

“Divine, isn’t she?” Steve gristled as he sauntered back into sight and perched on the side of the bed closest to you. He was still naked, his cock no longer gleaming with a combination of both your cums, but half-hard again already. 

His fingers touched your cheek, and you mewled, your lips parting on a harsh gasp as Ari began to really fuck you. 

“She is,” he grunted as he drove into you hard, groaning as you keened softly and clenched around his cock like a fist. “A gift, just like you said, our gift, all ours,” he babbled as his head fell forward, chin touching his chest as he lost himself to his pleasure. 

“I’ve never seen him so undone,” Steve grinned at you, gaze soft as your lashes fluttered and you tried to fight against the urge to close your eyes and surrender to your bliss. 

But Steve painted such a tempting picture, his body gleaming in the afterglow, his cheeks still a bit ruddy, and his hair flopping over his forehead. But it was the warmth in his gaze as he watched you that had you whining in a different kind of desperation as you reached for him, needing to touch him, to feel him, even as Ari unraveled you entirely. 

“Look at how sweet and needy you are,” Steve teased, meeting your outstretched fingers with his own and twining them together. His face grew more serious as he ducked closer to you, eyes blazing with determination as he told you, “From here on out, you will want for nothing.”

“Do you mind?” Ari huffed, groaning as his pace slowed and he shoved into you hard, lingering in your delectable warmth. He half-heartedly glared at Steve, but you could hear the tinge of amusement to his words as he said, “Save your sweet promises for after I’ve fucked her. You’ve already had your turn. Now it’s mine.”

Laughing, Steve raised his hands in playful surrender, giving your head a final pet before leaning down to kiss your cheek. “And you want Ari to fuck you, too, don’t you, sweet one? You want him to fill you with his seed, just like I did, huh?”

“Yes!” you gasped, fluttering at the thought of feeling it again–being flooded with the warmth of another’s pleasure, from you. “Please! Please, Ari.”

“You heard her, lieutenant," Steve purred, shifting so he could recline on the bed above you. He gave Ari a cheeky smile over your head. “Fill her with your cream. She’ll look so pretty leaking both our cum out of that tight well-fucked hole of hers.”

“Christ,” Ari gritted. 

You moaned as you felt his cock throb inside of you at Steve’s words, your eyes slamming shut as Ari gripped your hips and started to rut into you wildly. 

He had enough presence of mind to dip his hand beneath your body and work your clit, moaning as you came with a shaky cry of ecstasy and pulsed around his cock as your own pleasure swept you away. 

“Take it,” Ari snarled, curling over your back and completely blanketing your body with his as he hammered into you. The obscene sound of your pussy squelching each and every time his cock drove into you filled the tent, but it was the gravelly, wrecked state of Ari’s voice as he chanted, “Take it, take it, take it, every last drop,” as he fucked you that had your body trembling with one last orgasm, and it finally tipped Ari over the edge, too. 

He moaned into your shoulder as he came, burying himself as deep inside your cunt as he could. You could feel his cock swell before he was flooding you with his spend, and you moaned brokenly as the squelching grew louder. Your cheeks warmed as you felt his cum–and your own, and probably Steve’s too–leaking out around Ari’s cock as he gave a few final thrusts before finally going still. 

He was breathing harshly, his body as slick with sweat as your own and plastered to you, but it was a strange sort of comfort, being with Ari in the aftermath, feeling him as undone as you were, and sharing this moment with him. 

You couldn’t help but smile, giving a tired giggle as Ari muttered, “You’re an angel and a devil all rolled into one.” You hummed in agreement as he pressed a kiss to your cheek, pouting as he carefully pulled away from you, then out of you, before sinking back on his haunches. 

He gave an appreciative whistle as he watched the sizeable gush trickle out of you, and when you gave a huff and tried to roll away, he grabbed you, easily holding you in place with one hand while he used the other to scoop up the evidence of your debauchery and shoved it back inside you, laughing as you squealed. 

“Who’s the brute now?” Steve admonished, swatting Ari away from you before gently easing you onto your side. “I hope you’re prepared to deal with his nonsense, it’s endless.”

Your smile was tired but amused as your gaze flickered from Steve to Ari, who flopped down on the bed beside you, looking very chuffed and shameless as his sticky cock softened against his thigh. 

Steve caught the direction of your gaze, and he smirked at you, chuckling as you whined softly before burying your face into the furs to hide. “I can’t tell if you’re eager for more or appalled at the messy state of him.”

“I’d wager both,” Ari snickered. 

You felt the bed shift, and after a moment, Steve’s touch was on your back, gentle and reassuring as he leaned over you. “Let me clean you up before you sleep.”

You didn’t resist as he did just that, your belly swooping at the extreme care with which Steve wiped the mess from between your legs. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, struggling to keep your eyes open, but glad you caught a glimpse of Steve folding the cloth over and tossing it at Ari. 

“Make yourself decent or you’ll be sleeping by yourself tonight,” he chided with exasperation. 

“Why don’t you come over here and clean me yourself, commander?” Ari grinned wickedly, waggling his eyebrows as he caught your sleepy gaze and winked, “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

He laughed as your eyes widened and you peeked between the two of them, pressing your thighs together as the thought of them being intimate–without you–made your insides swoop and spark with a new and different kind of heat. 

Steve just shook his head, seeming more amused than anything as he went around the tent and blew out the few lanterns keeping the space alight. Leaving just one nearby glowing softly, he carefully climbed into bed beside you, smoothing a hand over your head as you snuggled into his side. 

A beat later, you felt the bed shift as Ari moved closer, pressing himself flush to your back. His lips found your bare shoulder, planting a soft kiss against your skin before his hand drifted to rest at your hip, making you feel enveloped completely. 

And safer than you had felt in a very long time. 

You felt the kind of safety that, just a couple of weeks ago, you would have thought impossible, especially for you, especially after everything.

But you were experiencing it now, genuinely, despite all that had led you here this night, and the revelation had you softly murmuring, “Protectors.”

“What’s that, brave one?” Steve hummed, his fingers trailing along your cheek as you sleepily blinked over at him. 

“To me, you shall be protectors,” you elaborated, answering his question from earlier in the evening.  “Although I dare say you have both conquered my body and claimed it as your own.”

“Then for you, and you alone, we shall be both,” Steve smiled, tweaking your nose and making you smile. 

“And we shall watch over our new favorite territory as you rest now, sweet love,” Ari rumbled at your back, his voice thick with sleep as he gave your hip a gentle squeeze before burying his face against your neck and going still. 

Giving a sigh of content, you allowed your tired eyes to drift shut at last. It wasn’t long at all before you finally fell asleep–warm, wanted, and well protected–your heart aglow with hope and the deep knowing that a life on the run, or alone in the wild, was no longer something you needed to worry about. 

Not anymore.

And not ever again.

It was actually a bit of a challenge writing this after going almost a month without writing and having lost my spark, but overall I’m really pleased with how it turned out. I’d love to know your thoughts and reactions! Thanks so much for reading ❤️

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