The Alpha's Forbidden Song

***Melody's POV***  Trigger Warning: This chapter contains references to an abusive relationship and s****l assault. After Four Red Bulls, three episodes of my favorite D&D Podcast, a ten-piece nugget from McDonald's that didn’t fill me up but did give me crippling gas and intense hatred towards my Spotify suggestions for playing ANY love song it could think to generate during my 6-hour drive. I was sure that life could not get any more distasteful.    At least, that's how I was picturing things when I finally rolled into the gritty-looking parking lot that housed ‘Moonshine’, a sleazy dive bar that had acted as a second home to me in the past. The parking lot itself was one straight out of a late ’80s vaporwave pop-horror creation. Complete with a few desolate cars, swirling winds waving begotten newspapers across the littered pavement, a large looming brick building, and a dubious-looking police officer in the back more than likely jacking off to his favorite OF hottie.    As I swing into the space farthest from the cop and park my beaten-up little Toyota Camry (affectionately named ‘Brennan’--after my favorite step-brother from Stepbrothers) I’m overcome with a sense of nostalgia. At one point, these dirty streets were a magical place for me. Checking the time on my phone, I realized I was 15 minutes early to meet the fashionably late and let out an annoyed sigh. The thing is, I hadn’t really planned this trip thoroughly. It had been a last-minute decision that lacked much of anything in regards to organization. I had no place to crash, and used the gas money I was holding onto to get myself to work the next week to get here, which meant money for me for everything else was pretty scarce.      Who knew how long those chicken nuggies would be forced to hold me over? As if on cue, my stomach growls in protest, and my Tamagotchi chimes needily from the backseat where it's attached to my bookbag. Grumbling, I ignore both. Everybody always needs something, it seems, and I didn’t really have the time or funds to provide it.  Reaching up, I grab the flap for the mirror and took it down to peer at myself, letting out a sensual little wolf whistle. With such a taxing adventure behind me, it is no wonder I looked and felt like an absolute s**t show.   “Damn” I mumbled, taking my index finger and stretching the thin skin beneath my eyes to get a better look at the crippling depression–erm, dark circles, that had appeared. The rest of me I observe in silent contempt. Thick, kinky, deep-chestnut-colored curls arranged into a semi-messy afro held back by a black cloth headband that I had discovered on the floor of my car. Wide-set, almond-shaped hazel eyes framed by short, fluffy lashes. I was clad in a pair of baggy gray sweatpants and a very tight, perhaps even a size too small t-shirt. It was all black with a beastly-looking horned creature on the front that read “Daddy’s Little Monster” In Times New Romans font.  An embarrassing mix-up on behalf of my favorite online clothing store--- but I had never been one to be wasteful, and I very much identified with Monster. That and my other clothes were packed in the backseat. Considering I didn’t know exactly how long I’d be back in town again, I had haphazardly thrown a few shirts and jeans in a duffle and called it a day. After a few more moments of twiddling my thumbs and staring at my reflection, I finally throw open the car door, stepping out, to stretch my legs and arms before moving to sit down on the hood of my whip while I simultaneously remove a beat-up pack of American Spirits from my pocket.   As I light my cigarette, I realize that having been in the car, that I hadn’t heard the incessant moaning that came from the cop car; the soundtrack to a clearly sensual number complete with bed creaking, deep voices whispering words of encouragement,  and some amateur who doesn’t know how to sell her climax. I cough loudly, staring directly at the cop car as I take my first pull. In turn, he rolls up his window and the sound is muffled.   Yeah, man.    It’s great to be home.    Nearly an hour later, I tilt my head up from my perch laying on my car's trunk when I hear footsteps approaching. By now the parking lot had filled up and the same cop before was making regular patrols outside of the car; not once meeting eyes with me in the process which suited me just fine. The footsteps grew louder in approach, grunting,  I force myself upright, only to be greeted by a suffocating hug filled with nothing but breast and bone. I gasp, struggling to breathe as my assailant continues her lewd assault, bouncing up and down while still clutching my head as if unaware it's attached to the rest of me.  “Mel! GIRL! I missed you soooo much girl.” the attacker squeals. It was Reya who latched on to me so tightly. Out of our group, she was the one I considered my BEST friend. Whenever something happened or I needed to vent or cry about things, she was the one person I could turn to. She would soothe and comfort me, no questions asked, which is why it was so difficult when my family and I had been forced to move due to our apartment complex being bought out.  I am blinded by jiggly breasts and at death's door due to lack of oxygen, but she doesn't bother to allow me a chance to reply as she starts squeezing tighter.  “It’s been FOREVER,” She screamed practically in my face as the others ambled up behind her. Our band, ‘Reckless Abandon’ consisted of five members. Reya, Skylar, Odette, Atlas and Me. Odette gave a shy smile and a tiny wave, kicking absently at the pavement. Skylar offered me a huge grin, his eyes flashing with amusement at the sight of me. “It’s our little shredder! Back in town to tear it up with us!” He bellowed happily, clapping my shoulder despite Reya being attached to my hip. “ I missed you guys!” I agree with a smile. “ride was a killer up here too.” Even amongst all the commotion, I could feel him looking at me. The person I had spent all this time running from. The person who always broke me in ways I did not know possible. The person that I kept coming back to despite everything he had ever done to me. Atlas’s dark gaze met mine the second I detangle myself from Reya and push her aside gently. He does not say anything, and despite this, I gravitate towards him despite my own unwillingness. There is something unspoken between us. Energy, and it's something I have never really understood even now. “Hey,” I muttered, rubbing my hands nervously against my side trying to figure out what to say to my sorta/kinda long-distance boyfriend. “been awhile—“ He barely let me finish my sentence as his lips were suddenly crushing mine, a hand moving possessively to my waist, squeezing me with just enough aggression that it actually started to hurt. I whimper under his assault, distracted enough to not notice the annoyed grunt that escapes Reya’s lips as she watches us. “Get a room.” She gripes. “It’s only been like 6 months for goddess sake.” Yeah, six months of bliss. Of not having to worry about making Atlas angry. Six months of not having to spend hundreds of dollars on makeup to cover the scars and bruises. I laugh nervously against his lips, feeling sickened by the kiss but far too afraid of his reaction to my rejecting him after all this time to act on it. After all, we had never officially broken up. Even if I wanted to I wouldn’t have pulled the trigger myself.  Breaking up with Atlas would mean losing the band, my friends, losing my place to belong and there was something about that I could not stomach. Not when I already had so little.  Not that things here are perfect. I’ve always felt like an outsider with them, even when everybody works so hard to be inclusive. I cannot really put my finger on it but Odette, Reya, Atlas, and Skylar have always tended to move as one. Even when I first met them, I could tell they belonged together and that they were bonded on a level I could never hope to achieve. Still, they let me into their circle. They let me create with them, and for a kid who perpetually felt out of place their whole life; I was excited to be a part of something. Anything. No matter what the cost was. Greetings and pleasantries were just that as we made our way into the familiar venue. Smoke clouded the dimly lit space as a few patrons shared cigarettes and philosophies at the bar over cheap booze. Odette, the baby of the group, let her gaze drift warily between Atlas and me before she bit her lip and glanced off. I was about to ask her if she had something on her mind when Atlas quickly took my hand, pulling me towards the small stage. “ Going to go over the set-up with Melody.” He calls gruffly over his shoulder to the others. I felt my tummy drop with a sense of dread but instead offered my friends a reassuring smile as he dragged me off.  We climbed up the stage and brushed past the curtains together, walking side by side. Almost immediately, we were submerged in darkness, but Atlas seemed to know exactly where he was going. He did not hesitate as he moved through the darkness and I fell behind, tripping haphazardly over extension cords, amp wires, and the like. My hand now feels particularly sweaty. “Did you guys not finish setting up?” I mumble under my breath, trying not to show my fear as I followed him. I was silently cursing myself, happy to be here but regretting my decision in his presence.  We came to a sudden abrupt stop in a darkened and oddly moist hallway that led to a lone exit door at the end. Lost in thought, I must not have noticed where I was going and resurfaced, realizing with disdain that we were in the emergency exit hall located behind the stage.  Suddenly, my body was being forced against the brick that lined the walls, Atlas’s hands gripping my waist as he let out a low, animalistic growl. I do not understand it, but when he touches me, sparks fly and my body reacts against my will. “You haven’t been answering my texts or my calls lately.” he rumbles, leaning down so that I could feel his breath against my ear. I involuntarily shivered, closing my eyes as I try and rack my brain for an excuse for such travesties. It’s hard to think about pressed up against a wall of rock-hard abs. Worried he might notice and take my squirming as an invitation, I press my thighs together, ignoring the wetness pooling at my pit. “--It's been a lot since we had to move so abruptly. I had to get a second job, on top of school. Things have just been difficult–”  Atlas raises his hand, the flat of his palm colliding with the softness of my cheek. The sound echoed across the darkened halls. My face burned from the strike.  “Baby.” his voice is dark as he reaches up to grasp my chin with rough hands. “You know how I feel about waiting. You know better. Why do you keep doing things to upset me like this?” A tiny whimper escaped me as tears threatened to spill across my cheeks, not that it mattered, Atlas barely gave me a second glance as he quickly turned me around to face the wall.   “Especially when I know you’ve been aching for me too.” His voice sounds sweet, almost sensual, but I am unable to identify his romanticism past my own fear as I feel him forcing my sweatpants and panties down around my ankles before moving to fumble with his belt. “I’ve barely touched you, and you're already squirming like a cat in heat. Your lucky I didn’t break up with you and kick you out of the band for being such a no-show.”  Atlas reaches around my waist with deft hands and slides his index finger along my dripping wet slit despite me forcing my legs together to try and keep him out. He doesn’t seem to notice my resistance as he continues his conquest, pleased that my body is responding to him so promptly.   “Why are you acting like you don’t know who I am or what I’ve done for you? Who the hell do you think you are ignoring me, Melody? Huh? Do you think your hot s**t because you moved out of your slummy little apartment? You're lucky my family is in real estate. That you even had options. I could have left you on the streets. You're such an ungrateful brat. Your betrayal hurts me.”  Despite these harsh words, his hand is tracing circles against my c**t, the moistness from my body making his fingers work magic against me. By now the tears are falling and I shudder against the waves of pleasure that feel wrong and overwhelming.  “A-a-atlas.” my voice comes out soft and docile, drenched in fear. “ I–don’t.. please.. I haven’t showered. I-I..don’t want to–” He does not listen, instead, the hand that was tracing me finds itself now on my right breast, kneading the flesh and roughly pinching my n****e. My plea is cut short by a shaky cry that escapes my throat instead of tangible words.  I already knew what was coming, and I brace myself against the wall just as Atlas moved to lift my hips in his strong grasp, slamming into me. There was no condom, he never bothered, and after the first time I complained and he beat me until I was ‘begging’ him for it. I never complained again. I hear tiny grunts escape him as he continues to pound my ass, spreading my cheeks and angling himself for an even deeper thrust before he pauses long enough to reach around and grab me by my neck, squeezing my throat.  My chest grows heavy, twisting against his form in distress at the lack of oxygen and the euphoria I feel from it. I feel the weight of my arousal increase as I struggle to blink away my tears. Atlas chuckles, probably at my distress, and growls low into my ear.  “Who's afraid of the big bad wolf?”  I never understood this particular saying of his, but I knew how he wanted me to answer.     “I am Atlas! I am!” I gasp out loud, and he loosens his grip on my throat, satisfied with my reply as he grabs a fist full of my hair and continues to f**k me against dirty, damp walls. I think of all the grime that must be getting on me and feel myself getting sick at the thought. Thankfully, I hear Atlas getting close to his climax, his muscles tensing and flexing beneath his tight Disturbed band t-shirt.  I love that band.  “Yes you are baby.” he agrees with me, his own pleasure evident in his voice.”You're terrified—which means you're going to be a good little c*m-slut and take this load, for me.” He chuckles again, slapping my butt which finishes me completely. Drool spills over the corner of my lip and my legs buckle as I let out a sob of completion and disgust when I climax against my will. I feel disgusting, more disgusting than I have felt in ages, and have no words left. Atlas groans eagerly as I finish all over his c**k before pulling out. He spins me around, forcing me to my knees and hoisting me up by my curls as he proceeds to jack off until he has finished all over my face.  His breathing ragged as he releases my hair and allows me to fall limp to the ground. He stares down at me for a moment before he goes to tuck himself back in and adjust himself. I’m absolutely appalled and ashamed but say nothing, knowing better than to anger him when I’m in such a vulnerable state.  I struggle to my feet, knees bruised from the floor, and yank up my sweatpants and underwear. Thankful for the change of clothes buried in the back of my car. I wipe the warm c*m from my face with my dirty hands and then wipe them on the fabric of my shirt.  Daddy’s Little Monster ,alright.  Fighting back more tears, I clear my throat and try to speak about anything other than what had just transpired between us. “ …Uhm. So about that set list, which songs am I starting with tonight?”  By now, Atlas has reconstructed his look so not a single hair is out of place. He is so handsome it hurts. Bright green eyes stare back at me in confusion before his eyebrows shoot up as if he forgot something important. “Oh. Right. Reya is actually going to be on vocals tonight.”  I freeze, my blood running cold. Despite the band being Atlas’s idea, It was me that put in most of the work. Who wrote the songs and the lyrics, in the beginning, arranged shows, and managed our social media. Most importantly, I have always been the lead singer, with Reya on backup vocals and guitar. I felt like I had been sucker punched in the gut by his words. “Yeah, but these are my songs.” I hear myself say in a strangled voice. Atlas snorts. “ Yeah? Well, you’ve been gone, babe. We had to figure something out. You're still on guitar at least.” Heat floods my face. Had everyone already known this when they invited me? Imagine, the only place you belong is suddenly not yours anymore.  Feeling angry, humiliated, and furious, I hear myself continue hurriedly, nearly cutting him off in the process. “---Why didn’t you guys tell me? I deserve to know when big changes happen!”  “Like I said, princess.” Atlas answers with a shrug. He doesn't look amused by my sudden fierceness, but seems to have disassociated from our interaction altogether already. He glances at the smartwatch on his wrist and taps his foot anxiously as if he has someplace better to be. “You were gone. There was nothing we could do about it.”  He glances back up at me and frowns. “You should clean yourself up, we go on after the second band. , you can come crash at my apartment for the night. We should spend as much time as possible together while you’re here,” he says evenly. “Gotta figure out what to do with all that cat s**t anyway now.” I blink, confused as to why he’s bringing up my cat, Bagel. It would have been a given for me to stay with him, considering he was Bagel’s temporary caregiver. My new place wasn’t necessarily pet-friendly, so it was the only option I had until I had enough money for a better pad. Atlas leans down and absently kisses the top of my head. “Sound good Mel?”  He doesn’t wait for my response, instead, he turns and strolls back off into the darkness, leaving me alone and distraught.  Using the wall for the support, I inch towards the exit doors, pushing it open and letting the gust of wind hit my face, assaulting the tears that had been running down my face. I reach up and wipe away the snot from my nose using my forearm and cast a gaze up towards the moon that is illuminating the night sky. Forcing a smile on my face because I should be grateful to belong anywhere at all. When I glance back down, the cop from earlier is staring at me as if I am some sort of weird anomaly.  “You alright miss…?” I take a deep breath and nod, offering a misshapen grin. “ Just glad to be home.”