Disclaimer: Own nothing
Warnings for attempted rape with alcohol, reckless behavior, indirect murder by intoxication and getting someone to drive while under the influence, and predatory behavior: stalking, and potentially taking advantage of someone's vulnerability.
How it started-how it really started
It had been about two years since they had drawn up the arrangement. At some point? Clarke had confessed to wanting children. So, she'd stopped taking the pill for it. Which meant, her male lovers were fucking her hard more than usual.
In the office, Laura, Natasha, Wanda, and the others watched, smirking, as Steve and Bruce were having their way with Clarke.
They both were inside her, had pinned her to the sink of the kitchen, and Steve had jammed his cock into Clarke's cunt, and Bruce had squeezed in next to him, both of them sharing Clarke's hole, both of them pumping in and out of her, Clarke shaking and gasping against the sink, her eyes closed as she gasped and panted, hands gipping the sink, as she pumped her hips into their thrusts.
Her shirt was open and her nipples had been sucked for ages, in fact, as they pounded into her, Steve and Bruce leaned in and Bruce sucked on Clarke's left nipple and Steve sucked on Clarke's right nipple.
They no longer used condoms anymore, either.
The first of the men that had fucked Clarke without a condom, was Thor.
He had pounded her pussy from behind, putting her in doggy style position, over the couch and had fucked her till she had collapsed. Then Steve and Bruce had taken over.
Laura and Natasha observed Clarke lecherously, as Steve and Bruce railed Clarke hard.
Laura said, "She's done so much better over the years."
"Yes, she has," Natasha agreed, smiling. Clarke listened to their instructions. She'd been eating more healthily and actually had gotten to know Laura and Clint's children, would talk about her problems far more than before and she had even had told her family about her lovers.
Clarke's siblings; Finn, Wells, Sterling and Monroe, just like Clarke had feared, had looked like they might try to assault Clarke's bosses, and Callie, Clarke's adoptive mother, had demanded to know how they could take advantage of Clarke that way.
Clarke, luckily had smoothed things over with them.
She had explained that she had gotten involved with them willingly. And that they had even written up a document, so that she would legally be protected.
Clarke had of course, edited a lot out. She had by no means told her mother, sister and brothers about the extent of how much Clarke's lovers had used her and fucked her till she couldn't move.
But they now knew that she was involved in a polyamorous relationship.
And since Clarke had known she'd need to be honest with her family, she had told them that she eventually was going to have children with her lovers. So, when Clarke eventually became pregnant, it wouldn't be a surprise.
For now? Clarke's adoptive family was "cool" with Clarke's lovers.
But would they be as cool if they knew that her lovers had more or less planned for Clarke to fall into their grasp?
That they had hoped that she would be theirs, before gently asking her and for writing up the document?
That their actions, even if they'd been very careful not to make their relationship predatory in any way, it still often felt that way, considering how it had started?
Four years ago:
The sixteen CEOs of the business had watched one of their workers, Clarke Griffin, for a while now, and they were trying to find a good way of gently asking for her to enter into a relationship with all of them.
But to ask for someone to be sexually and romantically involved with not one, not two, not even five or six, but sixteen people?
That would be asking for a lot, wouldn't it?
Clarke Griffin had been working at their business now, for up to two years.
She had begun when she was twenty years old. She was twenty-two years old.
The sixteen CEOs of the company, Laura and Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, Steve Rogers, Bruce Banner, Wanda and Pietro Maximoff, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, James Rhodes, Jessica Jones, Maria Hill, Thor Odinson, Hela Odinsdotter, Carol Danvers and Brunnhilde, had realized they wanted to be with Clarke, for a long, long time.
She always seemed so fragile, so vulnerable, but so strong and so determined.
Besides, they had seen how she looked at them.
They were certain that she wanted them too.
But how to go about confronting her about potentially being in a relationship with all of them?
That night, when Clarke said goodbye to her coworkers, she left the main part of the office and went to the bathroom, she emerged almost a half hour later, but not in her usual work clothes, but in what could only be called club gear.
She had tied her hair back in a ponytail, her top a near navy blue tank top, black socks and combat boots and skintight black shorts, that probably worked well with the unbearable heat of Phoenix, Arizona, that naturally, accentuated her ass.
This had brought the CEOs attention and when Clarke left the office, it was with much hesitance, but even greater interest, that they followed her.
They had made sure to keep themselves at a distance from her, so that she wouldn't see that they were following her.
They followed her all the way to the nightclub that she was going to. A place called, "Silk Palace," and watched her enter the building.
After waiting for several minutes, they then entered the building, the bouncer smart enough not to even give them a look over.
The moment someone looked at them, they'd know that the sixteen of them demanded obedience.
The sixteen of them faked dancing, but would peer between the clusters of people and the flashing lights, not keeping them from seeing Clarke in the club. Unlike them? Clarke was actually wildly dancing, with the thrum of people all around her.
There were men and women alike, grinding against her and she grinded back. A young, pale looking woman with black hair in a bob cut, smacked Clarke's ass hard, causing Clarke to close her eyes and open her mouth.
None of Clarke's hopeful suitors heard the nose that Clarke made, on account of their distance from Clarke, and the very loud music, not to mention, the ruckus all the people dancing were making, but they were guessing that the sound that Clarke had just made, was a pleasured moan or gasp, at being spanked.
The young man in front of Clarke, who had a short mop of messy, sandy brown hair, was grinding his right thigh between Clarke's legs and Clarke seemed to gasp some more, riding his leg as the young man, smiled dirtily.
All sixteen of the CEOs fought their desires to voice their displeasure at the sight.
They wanted Clarke to be riding them. No one else.
They wanted Clarke to be riding their thighs, their fingers, their fists, their mouths, their cocks-both flesh cocks and strap-ons, and other toys.
These strangers that were groping Clarke, couldn't appreciate her. Couldn't give her what she needed.
The loud, harsh beat of the music, blasted through the air, as Clarke stiffened up, eyes closing, and all of the CEOs felt some small noises of pain leave them as they realized Clarke was coming against the young man's leg.
Grinning now, the sandy-haired man reached out, his right hand groping Clarke's left breast and squeezing it, his left hand cupping Clarke's chin and leaning in, whispering something in her ear.
Clarke nodded and grinned and as she came down from her high, slipping off of the young man's leg, she and the young man went to the bar. Clarke jumped up on one of the barstools, and the young man was more than happy to shell out some money to buy drinks for Clarke.
The CEOs watched with troubled expressions on their faces.
Clarke was not stupid. She would have to know what this young man was trying to do. Which meant, she was allowing it.
This was disturbing to know.
They watched as Clarke downed one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen and fourteen drinks as she almost fell off of the barstool.
The young man grinned, helping her off of the stool and escorting her to the back of the nightclub, out of the building and into the back alley.
He probably rationalized it in his sleazy, diseased brain, that since he had gotten Clarke off already by her riding his thigh, that he could "get his" now. Whether Clarke said "no," or not.
The entirety of the CEOs followed them.
They shared several looks.
They wanted to kill that young man. Whoever he was. They wanted to kill him.
They got outside of the nightclub and into the alleyway, just as Clarke was kneeling down, facing the wall of the alley, her back to the man and the man reached down, still smirking, unzipping his pants.
"Time for some cock action, bitch," he said, reaching down, grabbing Clarke's hips and raising her up, about to align her cunt with his cock, his right hand reaching to the hem of Clarke's shorts and began to pull the blonde's shorts down.
Suddenly, a glass item was smacked against the back of his head, making him cry out and collapse, blood leaking out of his head as he dropped to the street.
Clarke, far too drunk to process what was happening, didn't even register that the man that had been about to rape her, had been knocked out.
Stepping back, Clint's hand clenched onto the neck of a wine bottle he had grabbed from the bar. The bottom of the wine bottle, had a splatter of blood on it.
Clint and the rest of the CEOs looked at the young man. He was unconscious. Breathing, but unconscious.
As Clarke leaned against the wall, too intoxicated right now to be able to process all of them being here, they walked over to her and took Clarke into their arms.
Clarke was now in Steve and Natasha's arms. Steve had his arms around Clarke's upper torso, holding her to his chest, and Natasha was leaning against Clarke's back, her arms around Clarke's waist as she pressed into Clarke, kissing Clarke's right ear.
"It's alright, sweetie," Steve said, "We'll take care of you."
Laura, Wanda, Pietro, Carol, Maria, Thor, Hela, Brunnhilde, Tony, Pepper, Rhodey, Jessica and Bruce, all watched Clarke protectively and possessively.
In some ways, this was a blessing. By Clarke showing how irresponsible she was? How willing she was to put herself in a dangerous situation? She had in a way, pushed their hand.
They now made their decision. They always had wanted to be with Clarke, as soon as they had met her.
But now?
Now, they knew that they had to try to coax her into a relationship with all of them.
They could take care of her. They could look after her and give her what she needed.
Because Clarke clearly wasn't going to take care of herself.
"Let's get her back to her place," Natasha said, her and Steve carefully carrying Clarke away from the unconscious young man and down the alleyway.
The others nodded and began to follow them.
Laura then said, "I'll get the footage of this scumbag," she nodded to the unconscious young man, "getting Clarke drunk. We can't risk anything like that leaking out. And we can use it against him if he tries to come after Clarke."
Clint nodded and was about to follow, when Laura said to him sharply, "You take that wine bottle and you and Tony dispose of it. Pepper and I will take care of the footage."
Clint nodded then and followed after Tony and the others and Laura and Pepper went into the nightclub, to bully the owners into giving up the footage of the nightclub in which Clarke's would be rapist had gotten Clarke drunk. After that? They'd make a few copies of that footage and stow it away, in order to use it against that young man, should he reappear in Clarke's life.
As Laura and Pepper did this, and as Clint and Tony got rid of the bottle that Clint had used to beat the young man that had tried to rape Clarke, which had consisted of using a grinder, which Tony had, emptying the wine into the sink, then dropping the entire bottle into the grinder and grinding it into dust, Steve, Natasha and the others brought Clarke to her apartment.
They couldn't care less about what happened to the young man that had attempted to assault Clarke.
He could stay there and rot for all they cared.
They didn't normally have keys to Clarke's apartment, but they had Clarke's keys now, because they got the keys out of Clarke's pocket.
They carried Clarke inside her apartment and dropped her down onto her bed, and Carol had gone to get a glass of water for the young woman.
Yes, they knew where Clarke's place was. And no, it wasn't because they had stalked her before now.
It was because every resume, sent to an employer, was expected to have the possible employee's address. And Clarke's resume, that was sent in, was no different. So, they'd found her address easily enough. And when they'd confront the doorman of Clarke's building, to find out what her apartment was, he at first had tried to not tell them.
However, the deadly expressions that Natasha, Brunnhilde, Hela, Carol and Wanda had given him, had instantly made him tell them where exactly Clarke lived.
So, they carried her up to the blonde's apartment and had pulled her keys out of her pocket.
They poured water down the intoxicated Clarke's throat, made sure she laid down in the bed afterwards and pull off Clarke's boots and socks, then put on the air conditioner.
Because night or not? It was Phoenix, Arizona, and it was warm.
No one wanted to be in their apartment in this city, without air conditioner.
They pulled a blanket over Clarke, while the air conditioner flowed its air out and they looked down at Clarke.
They were going to do everything they could, to earn Clarke's affection.
They would take care of her.
Each of them leaned down and kissed Clarke's forehead, before leaving her apartment, Natasha kissed her forehead first, then Steve, then Wanda and Pietro, then Thor, then Hela, then Carol, then Maria, then Bruce, then Brunnhilde, then Jessica and then Maria.
They then made sure Clarke's keys were on top of the dresser, for Clarke to be able to see.
They then checked to make sure all of the windows in Clarke's apartment, were locked. They were.
Clarke's apartment was high up in the building, but it was best to make sure.
Thankfully, the windows were all locked.
After they left, they closed the door of Clarke's apartment, and after the door was closed, they checked the door handle, to see if the door automatically locked.
To their satisfaction, the door to her apartment locked automatically.
They then went downstairs and faced the doorman. They promised him that Clarke would be fine and he was to speak not a word of this to anyone.
Too intimidated, he nodded and assured them that he wouldn't tell anyone.
The CEOs left then.
They made a plan then, as they went to rejoin Laura, Clint, Pepper and Tony. That they would do everything they could, to romance Clarke, to seduce her into being with them if they could.
To be what she needed.
Present day:
Clarke had cum almost fifteen times and now was on her stomach on the carpeted floor of the office, with Tony pounding into her.
Clarke gasped, gripping the carpet as Tony, with his pants unzipped, but still on, had sheathed himself fully into her, and was right up against her, pumping his hips into her, gripping her bare hips, sweating and panting.
From where they were watching, Natasha, Laura and the others could feel their arousal becoming unbearable. After each man had their chance to impregnate Clarke, it would be their turn to get what they wanted, which was to fuck Clarke's brains out, as well.
Regardless of how they had planned to approach Clarke originally, they no longer needed to worry about the first person they had ever defended her against. That sandy-haired man had survived that blow to his head, only to get drunk a year later and die in a car crash.
Funny how that happened, considering the night it had happened, Clint and Steve both had just so happened to "innocently" approach him at the bar, had some drinks with him and after they were sure he was too intoxicated, sent him on his way with his car keys.
Yes, they had planned that.
And no, none of them regretted it.
That man had tried to rape Clarke, so they had gotten rid of him. End of story.
And there were no cameras that that bar, so no one had seen proof of Steve or Clint being present there.
Clarke gasped out and Tony moaned, the two of them coming together, both pumping their hips, then sagging as their climax and orgasm washed over them.
As soon as it did, all three Laura, Natasha and Pepper grinned, knowing it was their turns.
The men had their fun.
Now it was their turns. And only Clarke's safe word would help her. And well, since when had Clarke ever used that?
