#dark!Steve Rogers imagines smut | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chxrryhansen · 2 months

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౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐑𝐘

Pairing; Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings; smut, dark themes, non con, breeding kink, oral- both receiving, degrading, size difference, unbalanced power dynamic, huge daddy kink, choking- to the point reader can’t breathe, dumbification, dacryphillia, spanking, steve is very dark in this, no aftercare!! i think thats it? Minors please DNI!!!!!

Summary; Steve Rogers, your boyfriend, the man everybody loved, his soul soft, standing against all evils. Until he got a taste of that sweet power. He became hungry. Now, you have no choice but to obey his rules. Can you bring him back to the light? Or is it too late? (it’s definitely too late)

here we have my first ever full fic! firstly i would like to give a huge thankyou to @dbnightingale24 for giving me the confidence and tips to write this! and another big thankyou to @evansbby and @hansensgirl for inspiring me in the first place for begin writing💘it’s around 3k words and i really put my all into this so please don’t forget to comment and reblog, i would love to hear all of your feedback!🫶🏻 much love, cherry.

₊♡₊˚ 🎀・₊✧

Steve Rogers, the man everyone respected, the man everyone believed in, looked up too. The man you used to cherish, his sweet boyish nature drawing you in from the moment you met. His pearly blues that used to soften as they fell on you, his gentle touch as he caressed your hair, the tender, loving kisses he used to leave all over your body.

Until Fury resigned that was.

Steve was officially the new director of shield, to which nobody opposed, i mean, who would right? He was Captain America, the man out of time. He was perfcet for the role. Strong willed, commanding yet understanding, he had respect for those beneath him and most of all he was compassionate, something that was hard to find in a good leader. This didn't last for long, of course.

Steve shortly became power hungry, his morals became more sick and twisted as his methods became more sadistic. He was violent, cruel…volatile. There was no bringing back Steve Rogers. The problem was he dragged everybody else down with him, nobody dared to stand up to Steve, too frightened of the consequences.

Tony couldn't talk Steve down, he tried for a while, attempted to reach out to him, guide him back to the light...but nothing worked. Tony couldn't do it, nor could you, not even his best friend of over a decade could sway his newfound mindset. You all figured it was best to keep your heads down from now on and follow Steves orders, no matter how out of line they seemed.

Not that you had a choice anyway.

Bucky was short to follow in his footsteps as his second in command. Both cruel and unforgiving. Your friendship with Bucky was practically non-exhistant, you no longer had movie nights together, giggling with big buckets of popcorn.

A simple nod of his head as he passed you down the hall was about as much as you would get. Steve wouldn't allow it now anyway.

Steve's display of affection changed alongside him, the love he made was no longer passionate, or gentle. In fact, he didn’t make love at all anymore… what he made was simply rough, hard, fucking.

The marks he left behind were no longer loving hickeys while he whispered in your ear, moaning sweet nothings as he gently thrusted his hips into your own. His eyes, gleaming with nothing but pure devotion.

They were bruises... bruises from how hard his hips slammed into your ass from behind, his grip tight on your hair, pulling and tugging as your skin became flustered at the impact of his thrusts. You missed the man he was. You often thought about that life while his cock was busy destroying your cunt. He didn’t care about your pleasure anymore, you were nothing but a hole for him to fuck.

From a distance you could hear Steves heavy boots storming down the coridoor. The sound was instantly unsettling. Your body recognising the noise as a trigger for an oncoming threat, sending you into alert mode.

You stood from your office chair on shaky legs, your posture rigid as he turned the corner to enter. His 6'4, stoic figure coming into view, casting a shadow that filled the room. His broad shoulders spread wide, his presence making your tummy tighten with unease.

He said nothing as he stared down at you, your fingers tugging at your short pink skirt- which he had chosen out for you this morning, the same way he customised your figure every morning. Claiming your dumb, baby brain was incapable of choosing an outfit that proved elegance and professionalism. In reality it was the complete opposite.

He liked to dress you in short skirts, ones that left little to the imagination, your asscheeks peeking out most days and revealing blouses, your tits practically spilling out of your shirts. You were highly sought after by the males at the compound before he came and scooped you up a few years ago.

They knew you were his, i mean he was your boyfriend for several years, you were what the female agents used to coo at, naming you as "couple goals". Where Steve went, you went, and vice versa. You were always seen smiling and giggling together, tag teaming on missons and holding hands as you explored the compound.

But, as steves power grew so did his insecurity. His possesive nature grew strong, wanting, no, needing to show other men you belonged to him, and only him. And you always would, whether you liked it or not.

"Get on your knees."

"Wh-What?"

"Get on your knees. You know i don't like to repeat myself." he growls while pushing your office door closed with one arm from behind, not daring to take his eyes of you.

You gulped as he stepped forward, caging you inbetween his thick biceps as you lean against your desk. One thing he was always good at was making you feel small. Even before all of this. Of course it wasn't anywhere near as threatening as it was now. He used to joke about how tiny you were compared to him, how he could pick you up with one hand, it was cute how big and protective he was of you.

Now, he used it to his advantage. He knew you feared him. He knew that you knew, you would never be able to run from him. He would overpower you every damn time with his brute strength.

There was no running from Steve Rogers. His thick beard scraped against your sensitive skin sending shivers down your spine as he groaned into your neck, your scent driving him wild.

He whispered darkly in your ear "Final chance. Get on your knees. Now, or you won't like what'll happen if you refuse me again."

You inhaled sharply, goosebumps spreading across your body in pure fear, or ecstacy. It was hard to tell these days. Steve had conditioned you so well to his own liking that even your body reacted to him in ways you would never fully understand. Or so he says.

Slowly you inched down towards the floor with your knees bent. The cold, rough flooring instantly proving to be uncomfortable as you figited. But Steve didn't care about that, why would he? His thick hand gripped your chin, forcing you to look up at him through hooded eyelids.

His thumb swipes across your bottom lip, he then pushes further, massaging your tongue as saliva begins to pool in your mouth. Removing his thumb slowly, he tugged on your bottom lip with pinched fingers. Before you even realised what was happening he shoves two fingers down your throat.

You sputter and gag around his thick digits, drool leaking out of the corners of your mouth, dripping onto the hard floor. Your eyes squeezed shut in pain as tears began rolling down your flustered cheeks.

His other hand is quick to grip your hair, tugging harshly. "You fuckin' look at me while daddy gags you with his fingers. Actin' like you don't get off on this shit. You love it. Say 'thankyou daddy'." he mocks with a high pitched tone.

Desperately trying to get the words out, you mumble around his fingers, seeming incoherent. He laughs darkly at your poor attempt, shoving his fingers deeper down your throat, gagging you one last time before pulling out.

"You gonna' be a good whore n' suck my dick? Huh? You fuckin' slut." His hand reaches down, pulling your shirt to the side, making your tits spill out. You hear him let out a loud groan, his pants tightening at the sight of your bare chest. He pinches your hard nipple roughly, rolling it roughly inbetween his index finger and thumb as you cry out, tears continuing to stream down your cheeks.

He shushes your cries gently as he begins to massage the same spot he previously assaulted making you keen with pleasure.

He had a thing for associating pain with pleasure, confusing your silly little brain into thinking the hurt he put you through was a good thing since pleasure soon followed. That he was rewarding you.

"Unzip me. Cmon' you dumb baby, take daddys fat cock out."

Listening to your own heartbeat in your ears, your head pounding with adrenaline, your fingers itch towards his pants. Which was apparently too slow for his liking as his grip on your hair tightens, making you sqeeze your eyes shut briefly before opening them, not wanting to anger him further.

You hurridly unzip his pants, reaching into his boxers and pulling out his cock. It's angry head pointing towards you as he grips the base with his other hand, slowing pumping his shaft over your face.

He pushes his bulbous tip into your closed lips, smearing his hot precum all over them. When you refuse to open your mouth he growls, pinching your nostrils closed. Feeling the air begin to leave your lungs, you gasp for breath and he's quick to shove his dick down your throat.

Gagging at the intrusion you cry harder, your lips stretching to fit around his thick length. his hips thrusting into your face as he fucks your throat harshly.

"That's it, you whore. Take daddys dick all the way down your throat. You fuckin' remember this the next time you try to refuse me."

His hand which was previously tugging at your hair moves towards your throat, holding you in a tight grip.

"Fuck... i can feel my fuckin' cock in that tiny throat of yours. Love it when you cry f' me, just makes me want to fuck you even harder, sweet girl." he grunts loudly over the sound of your gagging. Steve swiftly pulls his dick out as you keel over, coughing and sputtering, your throat sore from his brutal assault.

Before you even have a chance to gain your breath, his thick hands grip your shoulders, pulling you upright, bending you over your desk. Your legs shaking as he positions you so your ass is sticking out.

Lowering himself to the ground, he grips the flesh of your ass, squeezing roughly as he lifts up your skirt, briskly pulling your panties to the side. He shoves his nose into your pussy, groaning in delight at your sweet scent.

"Fuck i could live inbetween these slutty legs, your cunt's always ready for daddy, huh? Trained you so well." Your sticky juices smeared across your legs, dripping with desire, his facial hair bristling against your thighs making you squirm.

He mercilessly pushes his tongue as deep as it can go into your hole. You whimper as he laps up your wetness, his tongue prodding at your insides. Your arousal soaking his beard while your pussy clenched around his tongue. He pulls away for a moment, “God, how do you taste so fuckin’ good.” he groans.

Reaching back to grip his hair in your small fists, you go to push his face back into your cunt, completely overwhelmed with pleasure. His hand grips your wrist tightly, pining your arm to the desk, a sure reminder of who's in charge, seeming as you had forgotten your place. “Stay fuckin’ still or i’ll stop. Don’t you ever pull that shit again.”

You moan lewdly as he moves to latch onto your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around your sensitive bundle of nerves. Groaning into your pussy as he fists his cock.

Your eyes begin to roll back as your orgasm itches closer. Steve, realising this, pulls away once again. Your juices stringing from your clit to his lips as you cry out, your orgasm beginning to fade.

"Stop with the fuckin' whining. Daddy's gonna' fuck you now. Tell daddy how much you want his cock...Cmon. No need to act all innocent now." he pressures at your hesitation.

"P-Please daddy wan' you to fuck me."

"You can do better than that." Steve husks, giving your ass a harsh smack from behind, knowing your skin will blister from his force.

Your lips quiver as you cry, "Please! N-Need your cock inside me so badly, wan' you to destroy me for anybody else. Wanna' feel you in my cervix daddy, Jus' wanna make you feel good. Love how full you make me feel. Please...I-I'll die if you don't fuck me. Pretty pretty ple-."

and before you can finish your sentence your cut off by your own scream, his cock dissapearing inbetween your folds as he bottoms out with a singular thrust. Your legs become slack as your body spasms at the intrustion, his hands grip your hips, keeping you in place as you squirm, instinctively trying to escape his hold.

"F-Fuck, Y-Your so big daddy. It hurts so bad, p-pull out!"

"Shut up." he groans as his thick hand covers your mouth from behind. “Gonna fuckin’ dog fuck you til you can’t think of anything but this fat fuckin’ cock you dirty little slut, you hear me?” he practically growls as he begins to fuck you.

The sound of clapping skin begins to fill the room, agents around the compound sure to hear the way his dick bruitalises your cunt.

"Such a filthy girl i have, always so desperate for daddy to fuck you, even when you try and deny it, i know this sweet pussy would never lie to me." He coos in your ear as you sob, your face wet with tears and saliva.

"My messy whore, see what happens when you don't listen to me? You see what a mess you become? Fuck. You look so pretty like this, this is how you should always be, filled to the brim with my fat dick.”

Steve had always loved fucking you braindead, watching as your eyes glaze over and your tongue begins to hang out of your mouth, drooling all over yourself. It made him feel powerful, like you were dependent on him. Which you were in a sense, always so needy and desperate for him to fuck you.

The impact of his animalistic thrusts turn your skin raw as he speeds up. His arm wrapping around your waist, pressing you close to him as he spreads his legs further apart, hitting a new angle inside your pussy. You let out a loud wanton moan as his balls slap against your clit.

“F-Fuck yes! H-Harder daddy.”

“Yeah? You like that? I know you do, it’s okay. Is my little girls brain goin’ fuzzy? Huh? Poor girl.” Steve mocked, amusement clear in his tone. "M' gonna' cum. Daddy please can i cum?" you whine, the knot in your stomach tightening, a warning that your orgasm was near.

"Yeah baby? You gonna' cum for me you dirty whore? Go ahead, cum all over my dick. Can feel you clenching around me, grippin' me like a fuckin' vice."

Your cream coats his length as you let out a muffled cry, biting your lip harshly as you cum.

"T-Thankyou daddy. Feels s-so good..." you babble, your thick cream creating a ring around the base of his cock. Your weight giving out once again as Steve holds you, smirking as he watches you come undone, giving you no escape from his relentless thrusts.

His thick shaft pummeling your insides as you scream with ecstacy, your pussy throbbing as he fucks you through your high.

"F-Fuck look at that... love watching your cream leak around my cock, taking this dick so good for me. Gonna' cum inside you...yeah? You want daddy to fill you up?" he groans as his own orgasm nears, talking himself through it.

"God, this cunt treats me like a fuckin' king. It's coming baby, daddys gonna cum, Oh fuck fuckkk." his hips twitch and his balls throb as his load begins to fill you, shooting out thick ropes of hot cum into your pussy. Moaning at the sensation of his warmth inside you.

“Take my fuckin’ cum. That’s it, good girl. Love watchin’ your pussy swallow my hot fuckin load, bet you love it too, hm? You slut.” he pants, exhausted from the brutal fucking he just gave you.

He snaps out of it almost instantly, pulling out without warning and tucking his softening cock back into his pants.

Giving your ass a harsh smack, he steps back. You turn to look at him, your eyes glazed over. He stares at the ground with no emotion as he combs his locks with his fingers, making himself seem presentable.

Hope fills you, your heart races as you lick your lips in anticipation, wondering if he will stay to comfort you and hold you the way he used to many months ago.

But he doesn't. You get nothing but a short glance as he turns to exit your office, slamming the door shut on his way out. You slump down against the floor, a complete mess.

Your soft cries turn to sobs, breathing rapidly, your hands gripping your hair as you raise your knees to your chest. It was almost as if he had you in a trance when he was burried inside your cunt, as soon as he was done it was like the fog in your brain had cleared.

People told you there was no bringing the old Steve back, that your sweet, caring boyfriend was gone. Replaced by a monster.

You didn't want to believe them... but maybe you should've.

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babyjakes · 4 months

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you all over me.

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | kinkmas 2023

prompt | double penetration

pairing | soft!dark!daddies!steve rogers and ari levinson x little!reader

warnings | dark ddlg dynamic (soft!dark!daddies of captive!little!reader.) dub/non-con. size kink. reader is held down and fucked. stretching. loss of anal virginity. unprotected double penetration (vaginal and anal.) mentions of anal training/stretching/fingering. clit rubbing. crying kink. praise and encouragement. mocking/humiliation. forced orgasm (with implied previous forced orgasms.) overstimulation. they come in her. little bit of aftercare.

word count | 1,386

an | this is written in the same au as clear blue water, with captive!reader and her soft!dark!daddies.

Tears poured down your damp cheeks as your face was tucked into the warm crook of Steve's neck. Arms reaching up weakly, you almost wanted to cling to the safety of his broad form as he lay beneath you, heavy breaths harmonizing with your own.

But that wouldn't do for your daddies- not for either of them. "Come on, babydoll. Where's that pretty face," the blonde crooned as his hips thrust upward over and over, rocking your own. His hands were on your waist, Ari's just above them as both the men worked to keep you upright and in place, their massive lengths pounding into you with steady rhythm.

They had been fucking you like this for what felt like hours, but the sensations of fullness and overstimulation you were experiencing were still just as overwhelming and horrible as when they had first pushed into you. Steve had gone first, both of the men knowing you would tolerate his part better. They were a bit concerned when you were in tears from the vaginal penetration alone, but as usual, they wouldn't be discouraged. As difficult as it was, and as pitiful as you were to watch as you were held down and split open, Ari was eventually able to work himself into you as well.

As they kept their four strong hands on you, working you up and down over their throbbing cocks like nothing more than a fleshlight with a pulse, you honestly couldn't tell which forceful insertion felt worse. It was all blurring together, the world nothing more than a streaky haze through your steady tears. The men shared a sympathetic glance with each other before Steve refocused his attention back on you. "Poor girl," he murmured lowly, bringing a hand up to brush away your tears with his thumb. "Know it's so hard, little one. So hard to take both your daddies' cocks at the same time, isn't it?"

"So full, aren't you, baby?" Ari nodded in agreement, his oversized member stretching your poor little bottom to its absolute limit. Despite the generous amount of lube they'd used and the time they'd spent patiently coaxing your tiny hole open with their greedy fingers, nothing could ease the horrible burning feeling that bloomed through your lower half as you were taken in the ass for the very first time.

"Look so pretty like this, all stretched out stuffed full of us," Steve groaned, his cock twitching so hard within your aching walls that you could feel it, your poor tummy spasming in response. To the man lying comfortably on his back, there had never been a sight quite as beautiful as this: watching from the front as your tiny holes were so helplessly violated, large hands holding you in place and giving you no choice but to sit there and take it, your perky tits bobbing perfectly as your figure was worked at a steady, punishing pace.

And though he couldn't see your chest as well, or the pretty little faces you were making as your body was used and abused so sinfully, Ari's view from behind you wasn't anything to turn his nose up at, either. He loved the way your back arched up as their dicks kept you angled forward towards Steve, your adorable ass bouncing in rhythm as his cock tore into your throbbing, achy hole. He could easily keep you going with just his hands alone; with both him and Steve being so much larger and stronger than you, it wasn't difficult for either one of them to overpower you and allow the other to make better use of a second pair of hands.

Which is just what Steve did as his partner held you up and in place, giving him the signal of a nod. "Go ahead, Stevie. Let's give some attention to that pretty little clit of hers," Ari suggested. Steve spit on his thumb, bringing the other hand down to pull back its protective hood as he smeared the clear wetness all over your poor little bundle of nerves. Your body jerked harshly at the stimulation, but you couldn't do anything to stop them or squirm away; you were completely helpless, having no choice but to let the blonde rub your exposed little nub in quick, harsh circles.

"Please, p-please... n-no!" you choked through your tears as your whole body began to shake with sobs.

"C'mon doll, doesn't that feel good? Know you like it when we pull back the hood and rub you right there, right on your cute little button," Steve frowned and faked worry at your cries, though he and Ari both knew perfectly well the way their actions and words were tormenting you.

"That's right," Ari mused from behind you as he kept your trembling body moving across their stiff lengths, "our pretty girl loves having her sweet little clit rubbed. Makes her come so hard, doesn't it Stevie? Poor baby can't help it when her daddies play with her clit, but it sure is cute to watch her try and fight it."

"So cute," Steve hummed in agreement, watching intently as your breaths began staggering, your little feet kicking weakly as your knees shook and struggled on either side of him. "Oh? Looks like she's getting close here," the blonde sang as he continued his skillful work over your slick, sticky nub. "Can feel her little pussy fluttering- what do you think, babydoll? You gonna be a good girl and come for your daddies?"

Watching as your buildup continued, Ari and Steve shared a knowing nod, both increasing the speed of their respective roles as their cocks pumped more vigorously inside you. This is the moment they had been waiting for; of course they were hoping to come as you did. A few orgasms had been forced from your trembling form earlier as you were held down by one and stretched out on the other's fingers, but this was meant to be the grand finale, the climax you would all share, whether you were willing or not.

"Can feel her squeezing us- she's getting close," Ari grunted as their dicks clapped lewdly into your dripping holes. "That's it, sweetheart. Come on, almost there..."

Your resistance was a losing game. As much as you fought and defied them each time, a sense of helplessness was never absent from within you; you knew you'd be forced to come. And with both of them thrusting into you at an almost immeasurable speed, and Steve's torturous hands working your clit the way he knew best, there was nothing for you to do but let them have their way with you. Eyes squeezing shut as your tummy tightened, your little toes curled as your orgasm was ripped from your faltering grasp. You came long and hard, Steve and Ari's triumphant words of praise merely echoes as heat and shocks of ecstasy overcame your exhausted body.

Warmth burst in your core as you were pumped full of both the men's come, Ari's fingers digging in almost painfully around your waist as their cocks swelled and sputtered within you. When you were finally coming down from your impressively long high, you let out a soft, broken cry as Steve finally eased your body down to rest limply against his front. "Shhh," you could hear him humming soothingly, someone's hand rubbing your back as you sniffled and sobbed into your captor's chest. "Easy pulling out of her," he was murmuring to Ari as the world seemed to slow around you.

"You're okay, baby. You were so good for us," the brunette was praising you softly from behind as he shifted a bit inside you, trying to measure how careful he needed to be as he and his partner now shifted their focus towards damage control.

"Don't cry, little one. Daddy's here, Daddy's got you," Steve kissed the top of your head as he cooed at you, his broad arms cradling you lovingly as you clung to him. You were desperate for any comfort and tenderness you could get at this point, even if it was straight from the hands of your abusers. This is usually how you wound up at the end of the day, a weeping mess in your daddies' arms, and they wouldn't have it any other way.

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whereireid · 1 year

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𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐍 | masterlist

pairing: senator!steve rogers x fem!reader

⍟ — nsfw content ahead. soft!dom steve. married life. housewife kink. oral [f receiving]. degradation of reader.

Summary: Your husband, Senator Steve Rogers, has been acting strange recently. He makes it up to you after he catches you snooping.

You don’t want to snoop on your husband.

Honest, you don’t.

Sometimes, though, duty calls. It feels like a crime to be in Steve’s office, perched at his desk, attempting to hack into his computer.

You’ve tried three different passwords, now. The first, the name of your daughter, and her date of birth — BeauRogers2012. The second, your anniversary — 19October2007. And, finally, the name of the family dog — CooperRogers.

Nothing. There’s nothing. All to no avail, the screen lighting a shade of red with each incorrect guess, your lips tugging down into a frown as you try to pinpoint exactly what his password could be.

If it’s not Beau, and it’s not you, and it’s not the family dog… then what is it?

Your eyes scan his office, desperate for a moment of realisation. You want something to click, your eyes dragging from a photograph of him and Bucky, to the miniature American flag which sits on his desk.

That’s it.

107thInfantryRegiment.

The computer lets you in. Steve’s desktop background is a photograph of you, him and Beau — baby Beau, curled in her daddy’s arms, asleep, in a pumpkin patch.

You pause. You feel bad, snooping, hesitating as you stare at the pixelated desktop background.

You feel awful, but you have to know what he’s getting up to.

Your lips press together as you swallow away the tightness in your throat, dragging the mouse towards his emails. Before you press down, you hesitate — Steve has never given you a reason not to trust him.

Yet, you’re in, now. You might as well look whilst you’re there, and you’re glad that you do, because a particular name piques your interest as you snoop through his emails.

Sharon Carter.

Steve’s ex-assistant, although you’d always assumed she was more than that. She helped your husband climb to the position of Senator — she was his number one fan, more obsessed with him than you.

Your brows knit together. Steve had told you that him and Sharon no longer speak, as a result of her switching to the Republican to spite him. This — these emails, which go back for months — is unfathomable evidence that he’s been lying to you. Your throat feels cotton dry as you frantically scroll, unable to comprehend that they’ve been communicating for months without you knowing.

“What are you doing?”

Fear cracks through your body like a whip. You feel like a thin sheet of ice, cold flooding through your body as your eyes dart up from the computer screen, focused on your husband, who appears unamused by what he’s found.

“So, what are you doing?” Steve repeats when you don’t answer, his lips pursed as he stares at you. The suit he’s wearing is somewhat tight on his arms, and you can see his muscles flex beneath his clothes. “Be a big girl and use your words, honey.”

“You’re — you’re messaging Sharon Carter.”

His eyebrows quirk upwards in amusement. “You went through my emails,” he comments, “without my permission.”

“You’re messaging Sharon Carter,” you repeat, your voice coming out a whisper.

The look that he gives you is degrading. It’s a look of pity — his jaw ticks slightly as he cocks his head, his tongue darting over his plump, pink lips, leaving a glistening sheen in its wake. “And you’re going through my emails,” he reiterates, pushing himself off of the doorframe. “Without my permission.”

“Are you cheating on me?”

An amused expression flitters over Steve’s face as he approaches you. You feel timid in his chair, his large frame overbearing as he looms over you, the blue irises of his eyes impossibly sheathed by his black and blown pupils.

“Cheating?” He asks, beginning to lower himself to your height. You brows furrow in confusion as he kneels in front of you, his hands placing themselves on your knees. “No. Why? Did you think that I was?”

“Yes.”

“Liar,” Steve whispers from beneath you, your skin prickling with goosebumps as his fingers run over the pleated fabric of your skirt. “You just wanted to know what I’ve been doing.”

You push at Steve’s head, forcing him to look up at you. You frown, a twisted warmth pooling inside of your stomach as his hand caresses the plump flesh of your thighs. “Yeah. You’ve been doing her.”

He snorts. “If I wanted Barbie, I would’ve had Barbie.” His hand beckons your thighs apart, and you flush as his hums in content. “No underwear. Whore.”

Your face flushes with warmth. "That’s what you like, isn’t it?”

Steve grins, his fingers parting your folds softly, his knuckle pressing against your swollen clit. You try to kill the moan which climbs up your throat before it can slip past your lips, but it refuses to die. “Like music to my ears,” he comments, his stubble grazing your skin as he peppers deliberate kisses to your thighs, his tongue a cool stimulant to your hot skin, “you’re a naughty girl, you know? Going through my things and then getting all worked up over what you find.”

You can’t bare to look down at his smug face. His blue eyes twinkle as he gazes up at you, and you force your eyes shut, the delicious, dirty feeling of desire brooding inside of you. It pulls at your heart and burns wildly inside of you, only to be smothered by the feeling of his fingers gliding through your folds.

“Aren’t you going to tell me what you found?”

You shake your head, your eyes scrunching shut as his tongue finally makes contact with your heat. “Oh, God,” you whimper as he glides the muscle through your folds, his fingers pushing inside of your cunt.

“Not God. Just Steve.”

His lips twitch, tugging upwards with a smile. Pleasure rides through you in a gentle wave as his tongue makes contact with your clit, his motions gentle as he suckles on the sensitive bundle of nerves.

It feels so deliciously wrong. You’re in his office, sat in his chair, with him between your legs. He wasn’t even meant to find you here — you were supposed to be in the kitchen when he got home, but you’d lost track of time.

“Since you won’t tell me, I’ll make an assumption, and I want you to tell me if I’m right.” His voice is gravely, rumbling against your cunt, and you shiver as his fingers curl inside of you. “You went through my emails. You saw Sharon Carter’s name and you had to click, and you read them in detail and you found information.”

“Yes,” you say shakily, groaning as his nose nuzzles into your pelvic bone, his tongue rolling small circles into your sensitive bud. “Yes, I read them. She’s — she’s a bitch and I don’t want you talking to her.”

His brows quirk upwards, his fingers carefully scissoring your tight cunt open. You clench down around him, the pointed look he’s shouting you making you tense. “She’s my spy. Why else would she have switched to Republican last minute?”

“Because you married me and she wishes it was her.”

A wave of pleasure ripples through you as he suckles on your clit, his fingers heavenly as they roll inside of you. “Is she the one getting her cunt eaten in my office, honey?” When you don’t answer, he hums, his voice muffled as he continues to roll his tongue up and down your sticky, wet folds, “no, she’s not, so stop being a brat and let me finish speaking.”

As if to make a point, his fingers still inside of you, and your chest burns with disappointment. “Okay. I’ll stop being a brat,” you submit to him, your voice shaking slightly as you buck your pelvis towards his hand.

“Good girl." His praise makes you shiver, a delicious pleasure crackling through you as his fingers contain their steady motions, his lips peppering soft kisses against your heat intermittently

“The information that you found is very important people, only meant to be seen by people in government.” A delicious pleasure cracks through you like a whip as his fingers glide through your glistening folds, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he rolls his thumb over your sensitive clit. “And, honey, you're not in government. You've got too much of a dumb baby brain for that."

You whine, your legs trembling involuntary as Steve licks up a deliberate stripe up your cunt, his tongue flattening against your clit. "I'm not dumb," you protest weakly, your thighs tensing as his fingers curl inside of you, the lewd squelching of your cunt echoing around his office walls.

Your body becomes electric with sparks, exploding with ecstasy as his tongue licks stripes up and down your slick. It's so intimate, so gentle — his movements are precise, your legs jolting at every movement, every lick.

"Really? You're not?" Steve pulls away, tutting from below you. "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought that only dumb wives went through their husband's stuff without permission."

"I'm sorry," you say.

"You're not," he replies, his tongue flat as he swirls his muscle around your swollen bud, "but that's okay, honey. I don't expect my wife and her dumb, baby brain to feel sorry for me. I'm the man of this house. I don't need feeling sorry for."

His kisses grow sloppy, his nose pressing heavily into your pelvis. You let out a shaky breath, your stomach flipping as Steve's fingers glide in and out of your cunt. A moan catches in your throat, and you're unsure of whether or not it actually escapes your lips or dies before it gets to do so.

Steve's movements are skilled, deliberate. You melt into the office chair, the leather fabric growing slick beneath you as you softly behind to grind against his face. He's slow and teasing, his tongue swirling around you bud, nipping at it softly. The pinching pain makes you gasp, your breath hitching in your throat as he groans against your cunt.

"Come on, honey. I know you want to let go," he purrs against your cunt, the sensation sending shivers up your spine. "I know you're not holding that much of a grudge against me that you're denying yourself of an orgasm."

You pout. He's right — of course he's right, he's your husband and he knows what's best for you. You finally allow yourself to relax, fully, a soft whimper slipping past your lips as Steve's movements makes your stomach tighten.

And then, it happens. You grow tired of holding back, needy and desperate, and Steve's fingers curl inside of you again, and you let go. Your slick paints his face, your legs trembling as he laps at your heat, his groans sending sparks to your core.

By the time he pulls away, you feel weak. The sight of him only makes you grow weaker, his chin glistening with your slick, his eyes black and blown, a sultry grin tugging at the corner of his lips. His hand runs over his lips and he hums, satisfied with the orgasm that he drew from you.

"I'm sorry, honey. You should have never seen those emails, or the documents attached to them. They're not for you to be concerned about." His hand runs over your thighs, his motions gentle and soft as he caresses your skin. Steve's lips purse, his voice dropping dangerously low as he speaks. "But if you ever go through my emails again, you'll be in serious trouble. You got that, honey?"

Your body grows stiff as he reaches past you to turn the computer off, his lips nestling against your head in the process. The kiss he plants to your forehead is soft and gentle, and you smile up at him.

“Yes, Steve.”

You nod your head like an obedient little wife, and he smiles down at you as he does so.

Domesticated bliss keeps him sane.

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biteofcherry · 1 year

Note

Does mafia Steve from Nesting like his wife's pregnant belly?

Like? Steve loves it! He's obsessed with it. He puts his hand on her belly whenever he can 😊

Nesting

mafia!Steve Rogers x female reader

warnings for the part below: pregnancy; breeding kink; pregnant belly appreciation; fluff; a bit of smut; soft!dark Steve Rogers; mafia!Steve Rogers;

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

"Magnifica." Steve murmurs in awe, his warm breath brushing your cheek as he leans his chin on your shoulder to watch his hand roam over your pregnant belly.

You're sprawled in bed, Steve leaning against the headboard and you sitting between his legs, your back resting against his chest. You've been watching a baking show on the ridiculously huge tv screen while Steve fed you bites of fruit and some chocolates.

That's until his focus switched to your belly.

He traces both hands over the flimsy fabric of the pink babydoll you're wearing, resting his palms over the swell of you, chasing little flutters beneath your skin.

He doesn't do it only in bed, though it's mostly where he gets enough time to fully immerse in his fascination with your pregnant body. But Steve touches you whenever he can - keeping an arm around you and a hand spread possessively over your big belly when you're out; lifting your shirt up and peppering your belly with kisses when you're lounging at home. Any given opportunity, really.

Occasionally his focus would switch to your tits, which filled out more and become the core of your latest torment - they're ridiculously sensitive, getting you shaking in arousal with a mere touch.

"You should always look like that." Steve states, his big palm spread over the center of your belly.

"Like a huge whale?" You snort, trying to focus on the cakes that are being currently made on the tv and not on the way Steve's touch makes your sensitive skin tingle.

"Whales can't compare." Steve chuckles, sliding one of his hands a little upwards. "They're not as hot and glowing as you."

He cups your breast - your nipple instantly stiffening under his touch - and you let out a tiny gasp.

"It's only sweat and anti-stretch marks oil." You huff; lately you were becoming more self-conscious and self-depreciating.

"The oil maybe makes your skin softer," Steve pulls down the strap of your nightie and squeezes your exposed breast. Jolt of arousal zaps straight to your clit. "But it's the pregnancy that makes you so sensitive and extra responsive."

"It's my seed growing in your belly that causes it." His voice drops into that low, deep timbre which makes your pussy pulse in anticipation.

Steve starts pulling the fabric of your babydoll upwards, his hand quickly sneaks beneath it to relish in the skin-on-skin contact.

"You are amazing." Steve turns his head to kiss your cheek. "Your body is amazing. It's creating life."

He starts mouthing kisses along your jaw and down the column of your neck.

"And it takes me so well..." he growls, scraping his teeth over your shoulder.

Suddenly, in a swift yet gentle move, Steve pushes you forward.

He has you on your hands and knees before you manage to utter a single syllable of protest.

Steve nudges your thighs wider apart. You comply instantly, your body already buzzing with need. You kind of hate how quickly you rouse nowadays. Not like Steve had much trouble making you drip in rapid time without your pregnancy hormones raging.

"Already so wet for me." Steve hums, pleased, as his fingers slide between your folds.

"Or maybe, my little wife..." he guides the leaking tip of his cock to your entrance - "You're always ready for me?"

He doesn't wait for an answer. He clasps one hand on your shoulder to keep you in place and rests the other hand on your belly as he pushes into your cunt in one, firm stroke.

"Gonna keep you like this for a long time, little bird." He groans in delight as your walls flutter around him. "For as long as your body can take it."

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #mafia!steve rogers #mob boss!steve rogers #mafia!steve rogers x reader #soft!dark steve rogers #steve rogers x you #steve rogers smut #steve rogers imagine #nesting #my writing

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lilacevans · 4 months

Text

𝑜ℎ, 𝑡𝑜 𝑝𝑢𝑡 𝑖𝑡 𝑏𝑙𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑙𝑦, 𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑒… 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑓𝑢𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑑.

— pete’s place🤎

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dungeonpuppykai · 20 days

Text

| Too Sweet |

Description: You and Steve try to put 'it' in for the first time after his serum procedure.

Pairing: Soft-Dark 40's Post-Serum Steve Rogers | Lover!You.

Warning(s): Soft-Dark!Steve, 40's misogyny and courting bc let's be so fr, obsession, daddy kink, allusions to spanking, dumbification, power imbalance, corruption kink, fluffy smut, p-in-v penetration that y'all are STRUGGLING with, dash of breeding kink, they love each other, smut with plot.

Note: @chxrryhansen 's new Too Sweet Steve edit is responsible for this and she doesn't even know it, pfft!

"Steve!" Your protest is half giggle and half whine as you wince before landing a punishing smack to your lover's shoulders. "Ouch!" His body is also vibrating due to the humor that the two of you find in this strange situation.

"Come on, baby" he rasps out against your ear, his elbow that presses into your pillow besides your head causing it to dip towards itself. "I am trying my best here, bear with me a little" try he sure is doing. You can almost feel him fighting against his impulse to just fuck all and push inside your tiny entrance that has never faced a girth this big.

"I knowww~" you whine as you press your knees against his sides that have become wide and muscular since the procedure. "But it's still ouchie" Steve sighs as he freezes the little bit of pushing that he was doing.

You feel bad, you really do.

Because it is as hard for you to hold back as it is for him.

Pressed up against your lover that you haven't properly had like this in a week, your bare skins nearly leeched to each other's, one of his rough manly hands fondling your breasts as the one he's holding up his heavy body with strokes your hair to comfort you, the feeling of his stern muscles digging into the tender insides of your thighs and then his cock that you need to save your life at this point so close to your weeping walls yet so far away that you can lose your mind from the frustration.

But it just hurts so fucking much!

You had always thought your lover's size to be a decent one because it kept you satisfied and very happy.

But now…

This.

You did not want to be an ungrateful brat, as Steve would say, because you weren't a stranger to the valor that he held for his country and you had always done your best to cheer him on so you weren't to be misunderstood.

But good Lord above, they had swapped your cotton candy lover for a rough and tough beast who couldn't bear you being out of his sight for more than a few minutes.

It seemed that whatever voodoo they worked in that fancy machine had also amplified his obsession with you, like everything else.

Steve sighs as he kisses your cheek softly. You understand that he's a man and he has his needs that he has been compromising for a week because you recoil at the sight of his cock each time he tries to seduce you. "I've already stretched you out with three fingers, baby. At this point I might as well put my fist in there" you're on thin ice and you know it.

No man is as considerate as he has been all these days as it is.

Your cheeks burn and you flush hotly in embarrassment, letting out another whine as a result before landing a flustered punch on his arm. "I- It's not my fault if your fist would still be smaller than your dick!" Though your tone is one that has gotten you bent across his lap more times than you can count, the manner in which the indirect praise boosts his ego saves you this one time.

And his fingers weren't the easiest thing in the world either because they've grown three times their size!

"Aw, is Daddy's cock too big for your little baby pussy, honey?" You cannot help but let out a horrified guffaw as you cover your mouth, eyes wide.

"Oh, my GOD, Steve!" He is grinning at how appalled you look because of his obscene words. "Stop with that! I told you the other day that it's not right!" You have no idea how, but two months ago your lover had picked up this strange pet name for himself that he liked to use whenever you two were having an intimate moment.

"Oh, but baby" your back arches in an instant as you grunt and feel your claws fly to his shoulders that they dig into. He has started to push again. But your pussy is nearly as stubborn as he is, it seems. Because neither wants to back down. "Who put it in your pretty little head that you can decide what's right and wrong around here?"

Your thighs tremble at the authority in his tone and you whine, feeling your ass cheeks clench at the way the girth of his tip feels around your sore band of muscles. Fuck, this is like losing your virginity all over again but only worse.

You almost feel mad at yourself.

Because you're so wet and prepared.

Ready.

Just why can't it go where you need it most?!

"N- No…" The smell of his shampoo hits your nose when he dips his head into the crook of your neck to make a new love bite, both to try and distract you as well as mark you as his. "D- Didn't mean that, Shtevie, sowwy~" you mumble meekly and he deeply hums against your skin.

"Good girl" if it weren't for the way in which one of his hands lovingly caress your scalp, you would have teared up due to how small you suddenly feel. "Now shush up for Daddy and let him do this bratty little pussy in" an involuntary gasp leaves you again but you suppress it by kissing his moist temple so he can't hear it and think you are being disrespectful. Your baby pussy has irritated him enough this past whole week already.

"Owiee…" You grunt again as you feel it breach its way into the initial curve as it has been doing for hours now. "S- So big, Daddy" what? No! You're not like your naughty lover! Y- You're just trying to somehow calm him down so you don't get in trouble!

Like you did when you initially did not respond to his unrelenting advances in school and he ended up scoring really low in a test because of that so he dragged you out of drama class to bend you over and teach you a thing or two about manners and how to treat those who are nice to you. Then he made you apologize, kiss his cheek and cook him dinner at your house to make it up to him.

You are glad he did that though, because Steve is your once in a lifetime and there can never be another like him.

He just knows best.

But that doesn't mean you are okay with getting punished just because your pussy is too tiny!

"Good babygirl" your lover grunts against your nipple that his mouth is latched onto now, hips doing their best to not damage you but still weasel his cock past the hard round shaped barricade of your pubic bone. "I know it's scary but you can trust Daddy because he knows that if that pretty little pussy can push out his brats one day, it can surely take this cock too." Steve loves how you shudder under him at the thought but still answer him Yes, Daddy.

Because you are all his to do with whatever he pleases.

That is the reason why he shook hands with HYDRA and wiped out SHIELD the day he was transformed.

Because HYDRA had promised him a comfortable future with you where he would not have to part with you for too long but still provide you the life that you truly deserved as his sweet little girl who loved and accepted him in a state that everyone had treated as a laughing stock.

You were worthy of the world.

And he was determined to give it to you.

I didn't mention the hydra plot twist up there because well, surprise!

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boxofbonesfic · 9 months

Text

Title: Brave [1 of ?]

Pairing: Orc!Steve x Reader

Summary: You learn the hard way what it takes to survive this new life.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Genre typical violence, Warlord Nomad AU, Dark Fantasy AU, Enemies to lovers, More tags to be added

A/N: i had too much fun with this concept so i decided to stretch it out into more than one part! i really hope you guys enjoy.

“You understand what I’m telling you, Sweetmeat?” He says, tapping the underside of your chin with the flat of his blade. His bright blue eyes seem to dance with amusement. “I’m telling you to run.” You jump, gasping as he turns the sword with a flick of his wrist, bringing it down in one smooth motion to cut the thick length of rope between your outstretched hands. It falls to the dry grass between your feet, and he straightens back up in the saddle. The massive Clydesdale paws impatiently at the dirt as he laughs again.

“Run.”

You do, with the orc-pack’s laughter burning in your ears. The grass crunches beneath your feet as you sprint. You gather your dusty skirts up around your knees as you make for the tree line. The sound of a horn spurs you onward.

“The river, Sweetmeat!” His voice carries to you from across the hill. “You’ve only to make it to the river!”

Dry branches tear at your face and clothes as you force your way into the brush. The fear disorients you, but only for a moment. They will run you down if you take the path, sure as daylight. Instead, you make the choice to stick to the trees, moving between them as quietly as you can. You’d seen what the blue-eyed-orc had done to the others—one by one offering them the same choices—

Run and die. Run or die—

No one got to live.

It made a sick sort of sense, you supposed, if you used Orc-logic. They were weak—unworthy of the water it would take to sustain them, of the burden it would take for a rider to bear them. You had watched as first the baker’s boy, then the cobbler, and then the smithy each followed the blue-eyed-orc’s instruction, stumbling down the mountain path and disappearing into the trees—only to be brought back at dusk, their remains thrown to the wargs.

Your father had been good for little else but finding his next ale, but he’d paid his guild taxes same as everyone. And a fat lot of good it did him. The few soldiers stationed at the outpost nearest your village had been felled laughably easily, almost as easily as your father. And now he was gone, and you were here, a day’s ride south of the charred remains of your village.

The horn blows behind you a second time, and you swallow your terrified sob. No—you mustn’t panic. It is fear and panic that will get you caught. Your mother’s voice rings in your ears. Find green, she whispers as you crawl through the trees. Find green.

And you will find water.

The trees aren’t dead, not really, not at the roots. There’s thick brown moss growing at the roots, between the sparse patches of dry grass. You fall to your knees, ripping at it. The top layer is dry and brown, flaking away easily under your fingernails. But underneath—

Green.

The sound of hoofbeats approaching on the nearby path quickens your step. North—the river is north. You gather what is left of your torn skirts in your hands, trying to stay low and quiet. You have seen the thick-shafted arrows strapped to the backs of the broad-shouldered orc warriors, and you’ve no desire to feel them bury themselves in your back.

“Fan out!”

Half-blind you push forward, your own ragged breath deafening in your ears. You’re not going to make it—there is no river, there never was, there’s nothing for you to find out here, nothing—

And then you see it.

The river is drawn back from the bank, a shrunken skeleton of itself—but it is here. From the width of the bank and the depth of the riverbed, you can tell it was once a mighty thing, now tamed by the unending drought. The red clay is dry and crumbling beneath your bare feet as you stumble toward the water. It is cool on your feet as you splash into it, your feet sinking into the mud.

There is a sound like a whistle, like a switch splitting the air before it parts skin, and an arrow sinks into the wet clay by your feet.

“Don’t stop now, Sweetmeat. You’re so close.” The voice is taunting, and hatefully familiar. Slowly you turn, and the blue-eyed-orc is there on the bank. His bow drawn, another arrow already nocked. You stare at one another, your heart pounding in your chest. You wait for him to draw back the bow, to loose the arrow—he doesn’t. After a moment, he lowers it.

“Brave little thing, aren’t you?” He asks, cocking his head. “You’re not going to run?”

“No.” You don’t want to die like your father—cowering, with an axe between his shoulder blades that he never saw coming. “I would see my death.” The blue-eyed-orc grins, one sharp fang hanging over his lip.

“Oh?” To surprise, he stores the arrow back in its quiver, and takes a step closer. “You’ve no weapon to meet it.”

“It will come whether I’ve steel or none.” You match his step, taking one further back into the river. The muddy water laps at your calves, soaking into your dress. Over the sound of rushing water and the thunder of your own heartbeat, you hear the horses. The riders approach lazily, slowly, like they know you’re cornered.

You are.

The pack doesn’t interfere; don’t come any closer than twenty or thirty paces from the riverbank, content to watch as the blue-eyed one circles you like a wolf.

“Not going to beg, either, I imagine.” He says, and trembling, you shake your head. You’re up to your knees in water now, your skirts soaked and dragging in the current. You are expecting him to unsheathe the massive, hooked axe on his back, to bring your death down upon you swiftly—but he does not even reach for it. Instead, he reaches for your face, cupping your chin in his huge hand.

“What are you called?” When you answer, he rolls your name around in his mouth like mead. He turns your head this way and that, like someone inspecting an animal for sale. You know he must feel it, the race of your pulse under his fingertips. After a moment, he pulls back, directing his sharp gaze over his shoulder.

“Bring a horse for her, Buck.” He says, licking his lips. You watch as a ripple passes through the pack at the impact of his decision.

“What—what are you doing?” You ask hoarsely, your teeth still clenched tight with fear. He grins at you over his shoulder as he makes for the bank.

“A deal’s a deal, Sweetmeat,” he replies, beckoning you to follow. “You get to live.”

to be continued

#chris evans fandom #cevans fandom #chris evans fic #cevans fic #steve rogers #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers AU #Orc AU #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers imagine #dark fantasy AU #AU #boxofbonesfic

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saber-monet · 3 months

Text

🍶Pottery Date w/ Steve 🍶

Now Available as vinyl stickers on my Etsy ($2.30-$4, multiple sizes):

Sticker 1

Sticker 2

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allherfuckingtears · 1 year

Text

Got a secret, can you keep it?

Summary: Certain news leave you devastated as you walk into the hands of your not so gentle husband.

Characters: dark!Steve Rogers x wife!reader

Warnings: non/dubcon elements, allusion to sexual content, violence, (forced) pregnancy, power imbalance, dark elements

This story contains dark elements, be aware. 18+

Note: Just a little something for @cockslutpadalecki 15 sentence challenge. Haven't written anything in a long time, so bare with me.

__________________________________________

Soft snowflakes dance down the sky, landing on three inch blankets of snow covering once pristine green gras. The suns shines proudly, making the snow glisten like the 24-carat diamond resting heavy on your ring finger. But even the beautiful scenery doesn't reach you. A picture that once would have made you smile like a child on Christmas, now only suffocates you further. Fingers play with the tiny charm on your necklace, a nervous habit picked up when you were younger, as you stare out of the window of your prison, trying desperately to keep the tears and screams inside as the two blue lines mock you.

You refuse to accept your fate. It can't be true. Not again.

Tiny hands grab onto your forearm. "Mommy, Mommy", the voice startles you. "What is that?", curious fingers fish for the plastic stick sitting next to you.

"Nothing, Jay", you push the test out of his reach, as it disappears in your back pocket. "Don't worry about it, baby."

"Mommy, you've been crying! Why have you been crying?"

"What…" Your fingers meet wet cheeks. - You have been crying. "No, no", you stumble on your words, desperately wiping your face. "I'm okay"

"But you… you've been crying!" The blue eyes looking down at you start to glisten as James' voice turns shrill.

Panic rises as you desperately try to placate the little human in front of you. You sush him as you pull him down on the floor and into your lap, "Mommy's fine - see", you force a smile on your lips. "Everything's fine, baby. It's okay", you whisper into his hair as tiny arms wrap around your throat. "Have you seen the snow? It's crazy, look", you turn him towards the window.

"So pretty…" he mumbles, eyes gleaming. "Maybe we can go out and play?" Excitement rises and he's out of your arms and in front of the window before you can even blink. "Please, Mommy!"

"Sure, Jay. But you'll have to wear something warm, okay? It's very cold outside" Standing up you brace yourself on the wall as your head spins.

"Not Jay, Mommy. James. Daddy doesn't like it", he scolds you, voice serious.

A shudder crawls down your spine at the mention of his father. You swallow as you look at the blonde toddler, his spitting image. "Daddy, doesn't have to know".

"Daddy doesn't have to know what?", a deep voice echoes. You jump turning around, heart beating as Steve stands in the doorway.

"Daddy!", the little boy in front of you squeals, running into the arms of his father. Steve scoops him up off the floor as his cold eyes meet yours. You gulp.

"Steve…", the whisper escapes you before you can think of what you actually want to say. He's not supposed to be here. Not for the next four hours. Bile rises in the back of your throat as the plastic stick stabs you in your lower back. You're going to vomit, you're sure of it. He looks at you expectantly, gaze turning sterner when you don't move. When you don't greet him like he trained you to.

"Y/N", his voice snaps, jaw ticking. "Now."

But you can't. You can't. If you go to him now, if you give him the kiss he wants from you, he'll feel it. He'll feel the test. He'll know and there will be nothing you can do about it. No escaping your fate. Just like the last two times. You know you're done for when he lowers Jay on the ground, gaze still on you.

"Go, check on your brother, James." He dismisses the boy. Jay looks at you before turning and running through the door. Leaving you alone. To unknowingly suffer at the hand of his father.

"Kneel", the command comes as soon as his son is out of sight. "Before I fucking make you." You know you have no choice. If you don't do as he says, then he'll make you. This way, you might at least get a chance to hide the doom lingering in the back of your pocket once you inevitably have to ready yourself for your punishment.

"Steve, please…", you plead as your knees hit the floor. You resume the familiar position, eyes down, palms up. You know exactly what to do. At this point it's basic instinct, a second nature forced onto you for the last four years. A barely audible whisper leaves your lips, a final entreaty before you inescapably have to give into his perverse fantasies, "Please… I'm sorry".

Colds hands find your chin, making you look at him. His thumb catches on your lip, pushing into your mouth. You hollow your cheeks, tongue swirling around the digit. Eyes pleading with him. His thumb presses on your tongue before he releases it with a loud pop. "Go on, baby. You know it's more fun for me when you beg."

#dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x you #dark!steve rogers #fifteen sentence challenge #look ma I did it - fifteen sentences #dark steve x reader #dark steve rogers #captain america #mcu smut #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #dark!steve x reader #dark steve rogers x y/n #steve x y/n #marvel x reader #dark fics

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chrisevansredbelt · 2 years

Text

Lamb to the Slaughter

pairing: dark!steve rogers x naive!agent!reader

warnings: DUBCON! SMUT! reader is very naive, booksmart but sexually naive. oral (m receiving), fingering, p in v sex. kinda grooming i guess. very dubious consent.

read at your own discretion please. 18+ only.

summary: steve takes a liking to you and your naivety. he also takes advantage of it.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*･ﾟ☆

That was probably the best physical part about you. Your ass. Your tits were nice too, but the way your ass sat so nicely in your suit and in any pants really. Well, your tits also sat nicely. But your ass was just phenomenal.

Oh, how Steve wished he could just lay his head down on them like pillows after a long, hard day or bury his face between your legs and grip your ass so hard-

“Captain?” You yell a little louder now, and that’s when he kind of blinks himself out of whatever trance he was in. It was strange, he was looking down at you- but he wasn’t hearing a word you said.

“Sorry-“ He mumbles, “Sorry, uh-“He turns to the toolbox propped on the metal table, “What did you need?”

“The screw?” You point to the screw on the floor which had fallen out of his grip. You would’ve grabbed it yourself had you not been cramped inside of a small hole in the wall to fix the electrical circuit.

“Oh, right.” Steve bends to pick it up, practically at eye level with your ass now as you’re on all fours in the small space. You reach your hand behind you to retrieve the tool as he places it in your hand, “Sorry.”

He quickly regains his composure, standing upright and cursing himself for getting caught. The moment he saw the outline of your little g string through the fabric of your suit, he had dropped the tool. The loud clang of it against the metal floor not enough to pull him back out of that trance. Little innocent you, wearing a g-string. Maybe you weren’t as innocent as he thought. And then he thought of all the things you had probably let some fuck boy do to you… and all the things he could do better.

“It’s okay.” You forgive him, offering him a sympathetic look from the small glimpse of his tired face that you got through the small crowded space you were situated in, “Long day?” You ask, before going back to the board.

“You could say that.” You hear him say after a heavy sigh.

“I can imagine.” You reply, “Must be so hard being Captain.”

“Sometimes.” He shrugs, a smile playing at his lips as he tilts his head to get a better view of your panties through your suit, “But it’s rewarding.” He adds, eyes never leaving your ass that’s on full display for him right now.

“Not worth losing sleep over though.” You quirk, shining your torch on one of the chewed up wires. Rats? Tony Stark can afford all the gadgets in the world, yet he can’t control rats?

“Definitely not.” Steve sighs, “But it’s my job.”

Deciding that this electrical job needs much more than a simple repair, you start shuffling backwards out of the little tunnel, “Well, if you ever need help with any paperwork or anything-“ You say, bracing yourself as you’re greeted with much fresher air. When your feet reach the ground, you kind of sit back on your heels, on your knees in front of Steve as you catch your breath. Steve just about had a heart attack as you so innocently kneel before him. You smile up at him before tucking a few stray hairs behind your ear and continuing your sentence, “If it’s appropriate, I’m happy to help out?”

He gives you a tight lipped smile, looking down- almost blushing as he nods, “That’s very kind of you. I’ll let you know.”

You nod in response, before getting back to the task at hand, “Rats have chewed through the cables- I don’t think we should put any in until we get rid of them.”

Steve just nods, your words going in one ear and out the other however as he clasps his hands in front of him over his raging hard on.

“Uh, so if you just um- get on your knees,” You oblige so willingly, dropping to your knees in front of Steve and peaking under the dashboard of the quinjet, “You’ll be able to see it.”

You crane your neck a little to examine the fuse box and electrical circuit all hidden behind a dark plastic panel, “Oh yeah,” You hum, “So many buttons.”

“It’s big, huh?” Steve adds, smiling to himself.

“Yeah,” You scoff. Big was hardly the word for it. You look over it for a few more seconds, then at the sheet of your test paper. Fuses, alternator, corrosion. Those were the three tasks you were given to find and fix all on your own. Even through the plastic shield that showcased the electrical units of the jet, you were confident in completing all three, “Okay, I know what to do.” You nod up at Steve and get comfortable on your knees, “Ready to be my tool bearer?”

Steve snorts, “As I’ll ever be.” He jokes, handing you the screwdriver you almost always need at the beginning of these engineering exams. You get to work immediately, wasting no time so as to hit that criteria. Steve eyes the cockpit jet seat behind him, pulling the tool box of the dash board before asking, “Mind if I sit?”

You look up at him, then back to the chair before laughing a little, “Go for your life.” You tell him sarcastically. He smiles down at you and takes a seat and you look at him over your shoulder, “You have to treat yourself every once in a while, Captain.”

He just huffs softly, watching as you turn back around and work on the engine in front of you- yet again giving Steve the most perfect view of your ass, “Yeah, I do.”

It should be illegal for you to wear such an outfit to the gym. It’s no different from any other gym outfit that he’s seen worn by his female team and other female agents. But it’s the fact that you’re the one wearing it, so oblivious to its effect on your Captain.

Scheduled supervised gym times is probably Steve’s favourite place to be. Well, the rare evaluations every once in a while where he has one-on-one time definitely tops it in a heartbeat. But those are hardly often.

Besides, during those times you always opted for much more comfortable gym attire- which basically meant Steve had to use his imagination a little bit more than usual.

“Who’s got you wrapped around their finger?” Bucky breaks Steve out of his thoughts, sitting next to him on one of the benches in the gym as he joins Steve in supervising the training agents, “You’re all spacey.”

Steve just scoffs, shaking his head, “You’re too observant.”

Bucky smirks, “But I’m right?”

Steve just nods subtly, squinting his eyes at you a little- internally deciding if he really wants to tell Bucky. A small part of him just wants to keep you all to himself, because Steve knows damn well that if he tells Bucky- he’ll probably want in. Not that Steve isn’t down to share with his best friend- you were just different.

Steve wanted you all to himself.

But nonetheless, Bucky was his best friend. And Steve would do everything in his power to keep him away from you if Bucky were to show interest.

“See that agent?” Steve mumbles lowly, just enough so that if someone were to walk by, they wouldn’t hear.

Bucky follows Steve’s gaze over to a lone agent. She’s by her duffel, drinking from her water bottle. Some of it misses her mouth- or overflows- and spills down her chin and eventually down her cleavage. Huh, she’s cute.

Both Steve and Bucky catch the moment. And while Steve is more dumbstruck, Bucky just laughs a little, typical Steve’s type- naive.

“A recruit, hey?” He first teases- the age difference a literal slap in the face. Steve just sighs, subtly readjusting his pants so as not to display his hard on, “Okay, I see it.” Bucky nods understandingly as he watches you some more. Bucky knew you, of course, having trained you in a lot of your combat and weaponry courses. You really are a breath of fresh air- that’s the best way he could describe you. Sweet smile, sweeter laugh, best ass.

“She’s so naive.” Steve marvels, “Had her on her knees for about an hour while she worked on the engine, saying all kinds of things that went over her head.”

Bucky smiles at the thought. He decided to keep to himself how he was able to spar with you himself once, let you win and had you on top of him straddling his waist. Or how close he gets to you when handling your weapons. Hey, you’ve gotta learn one way or another.

Instead, Bucky tells him something else. Something not as incriminating for him, but rather… for everyone else.

“All the boys hit on her.”

Steve almost gets whiplash from how fast he turns around to look at Bucky, “Who?” He asks with deeply furrowed brows.

“All of them.” Bucky shrugs, nodding to where they all stand and where you have rejoined them. Steve takes particular note on how all the boys stare down at your chest as you talk and laugh with them, “During their combat training, they call her sweet cheeks. Said it’s because of her smile.”

Steve watches with daggers in his eyes as Bucky’s point is proven. As you walk off with two other female agents towards the treadmills, all the boys stare shamelessly at your ass- chatting amongst themselves after all giddy.

“Bullshit.” Steve mutters

“I’m saying.” Bucky scoffs. The pair are silent as they watch you on the treadmill, the way your hips sway effortlessly as you take each step, “She’s a virgin, you know?” Again, Steve’s head almost loses control and screws off as he whips his head around to look at Bucky, who just shrugs, “They all tease her for it.”

Steve swore he heard wedding bells at that. So you’re a virgin after all.

The two super soldiers remain on that bench for the rest of the session, every so often glancing at other members of the team of recruits, but mostly focusing their attention on you.

In doing so, Steve was silently conjuring up a plan.

As Bucky announced that their training session was over and that they were free to go, Steve got to his feet.

Everyone was on their way out, and as you throw your duffel over your shoulder, you were glad to have finally finished. You couldn’t wait to retreat back to your room and have a nice, long bath-

“Agent L/N,” You turn at the sound of your name, called by an all too familiar voice. You smile up at your Captain despite the uneasy look he gives you with authrotitative hands on his hips, “Could you stay back a minute?”

“Yeah, sure,” You gives your friends a small smile as they leave without you. You wait patiently in front of Steve as he seemingly waits for everyone to leave until it is just the two of you left in the gym, “Is everything okay?” You ask once the final person leaves- the silence wracking your nerves.

He sighs heavily, looking down and God, you’re nervous. You don’t know any better, and from the looks of it, you must be in trouble.

“You’re a great agent,” He starts off and you blink at him a little before softly smiling, “You’re flying through the course and passing every exam. You’re smart, you’re kind.”

“Thank you, Captain.” You feel your cheeks heat up a little at the myriad of compliments he had just given you.

He just gives you a tight lip smile however as he goes to continue, he looks down to the floor and purses his lips with a heavy sigh, “Those boys, not so much.” Your smile falters a little, shocked to hear your Captain speak softly openly and negatively about his recruits, “They seem to treat this course just as some kind of badge for their resume. They don’t take it as serious as you do.” You smile softly at the subtle compliment, but don’t know if it’s the right reaction, “From what I’ve seen, Y/N, I’m not too sure they’re good for you to hang around.” You look up at him now with slightly sad eyes and he’s quick to explain (and hold the moan), “You get all distracted and a lot of the time, they’re just flirting with you. And I’m not telling you who you can and can’t be friends with, but I’d just hate for this opportunity to get taken away from you just because you got wooed by one of them airheads.”

“Oh,” Is all you can say after a short moment of silence, “I-I never realised they were doing that.” You shake your head, cheeks heating up at the thought of all those boys flirting with you. You always thought they were nice, but you never thought they were flirting! To be perfectly honest though, you wouldn’t know flirting if it killed you. Your Captains words swirled all through your head- and you frowned slightly at the thought of disappointing him. You didn’t get in trouble- and certainly not at the expense of some boys, “Well, what do you think I should do?” You ask, “I want to follow your advice, but I don’t want to hurt their feelings by not talking to them anymore.”

Steve doesn’t know why he’s so surprised that his plan worked- I mean look at you. He smiles now, changing his whole demeanour now that he has you right where he wants you, “If you accept, I have a- kind of excuse for you to steer clear of them.” You nod eagerly up at him, prompting him continue, “Be my assistant.” He shrugs, “You can help me out with my paperwork up at my office and I don’t know- maybe you can even join Tony and Bruce in the labs if you like.” He offers and your eyes light up, “So, if they do ever approach you, you can just say you’re too busy to talk.” He adds.

“Okay.” You hardly hesitate to accept the offer, “I’ll do it.”

“Great.” He smiles, “I’ll send you an email with the forms you need to fill out and come Monday, you’ll probably join me in my office for the day.” You nod once more and Steve nods in return, “Have a nice night, Y/N.”

You turn to leave, but stop yourself and spin right back around, Steve unmoving and raising a curious brow, “When you did passing every exam, does that mean I passed the engine exam?” You ask with a slight smirk on your face.

Steve laughs softly, scanning the room quickly before nodding and giving you you’re unreleased result, “Of course you did.”

As you turn back around with the biggest smile on your face, Steve can’t help the smile that breaks out on his own.

He had you right where he wants you. And now it’s only a matter of time.

Being Steve’s assistant was probably the best decision you’ve made.

And yes… you got to call him Steve now. It felt so strange at first, felt too informal considering he was now both your boss and Captain. But you both agreed it was even weirder to constantly call him Captain and Mr. Rogers when you would spend practically every working hour together.

And that’s what being his assistant was. When you weren’t fulfilling your training duties, you were helping him out. Paperwork, grading, organising his schedule, picking up his lunch- at one point you even did his laundry.

And it really did work in keeping you away from the boys. You still talked to them every so often, but it was only ever very small talk.

Anyways, every day that you weren’t training, you would meet with Steve at his office at 8AM on the dot. From there you would deliberate on the new day- or if he’d given you a task to do overnight, you’d present it to him then.

Which is what happened last night. You were to input all of the data and Steve’s notes of each recruit and their progress, grades and comments into one big table-spreadsheet thing.

It sounded like a lot, but was actually very easy and you had it done in no time, printed out and alphabetically sorted in a neat pile in your arm as you approached Steve’s office.

Coming up his doors, you stopped dead in your tracks, however, when you heard a few pained grunts coming from within. You furrowed your brows softly and held your ear up against the door. The noise persisted and you worried a little for your Captain. He sounded hurt?

Glancing at the time, it was 8:00AM on the dot. Not wanting to end up even a minute late you knocked on the wooden door to Steve’s office four times before stepping back and waiting. The pained grunts seemingly stopped after your last knock and he cleared his throat. You then heard a soft thump and lot of shuffling before his feet were trudging towards the door.

The door swings open and there stands a puffed out Steve.

“Morning,” You say softly, and before he can greet you back, you ask, “Are you feeling okay, Steve? I heard noises-“

“Yeah, fine, Y/N. Thank you.” He chokes out. He’s totally unconvincing though as his hair is a little disheveled and he seems… exhausted? Nevertheless, he stands to the side and opens the door wider for you, “Come in,”

As you enter the office and brush past him, you quite literally feel his body heat radiate off of him and you persist in ensuring he’s feeling okay, “Are you sure you’re okay?” You place your hand upon his forehead and gasp softly at the heat of his skin, “You’re burning up.”

“No, I’m fine, Y/N.” He shakes his head. You still don’t believe him- and he knows it. He has to stop himself from smiling too hard at how naive you are. Instead he just smiles softly and holds out his pinky for you, “Promise.” You smile down at his pinky now. You still don’t believe him… not fully, but still, you entwine your pinkies together, “Got my papers?” He then asks and you nod, handing him the stack that rests in your arms.

You observed Steve closely for a good 10 minutes as he scanned over the documents. You pretended to work on something on your laptop, but you were mostly stealing long glances up at the man before you- who clearly seemed to have something wrong with him.

Whether he was sick, in pain, tired- you couldn’t tell- probably all three even. But Steve would never let anyone know that- not on purpose anyway. Which is why, as he shifts in his seat for about the 7th time in the last few minutes with a strained expression on his face, you shut your laptop and face him.

“Steve, are you sure you’re okay?” You ask, placing a hand on his arm- before he can respond you cut him off and say, “There’s something wrong and I know you’re too stubborn to take the day off, so is there nothing I can do? Anything at all?”

He sighs softly, “You know me too well.”

You shrug, “It’s kind of my job.” You got really close to Steve after taking up this job- that was never really the plan (not for you at least) but it was basically inevitable. And you’re actually really glad it turned out that way because Steve was just great.

As your rub his arm softly, Steve caves. How can he not? His plan has worked yet again. He was going to drag it out a bit more- maybe wait until the end of the day- that way his unfinished orgasm from when he had edged himself under his desk this morning before you and knocked would be so good.

But he has to give in. With the way you’re rubbing his arm and staring up at him, in your little office outfit that has been driving him crazy for the past few weeks. He has to.

Putting his act back up, he sighs again, “It’s just my-“ You lean closer, almost eager to hear him admit his illness. But Steve just shakes his head and cuts himself off, “You’re just gonna think it’s gross.”

“I won’t!” You shake your head, squeezing his arm, “I had to bunk with the boys on that one mission, I can’t imagine anything more gross.” You try and joke, but it does little to make Steve actually laugh. He fakes one, of course, but on the inside he’s furious.

He could only imagine the jokes and innuendos that flew over your head when you had bunked with those foul boys. And so help them if they had even laid a finger on you.

“Well,” Steve begins, before looking down at the concealed tent in his pants and then up at you, “My cock really hurts.”

You blink dumbly at him, accidentally casting your eyes down to his crotch before quickly looking back up at him, “Oh,” Is all you manage to let out. You weren’t expecting that.

“I’m not sure why. It’s been aching all morning.”

You take your hand of his arm and Steve panics a little. Holding both of your hands in your lap, your furrow your brows, “I-I’m not really sure how I can help…”

“I know how,” Steve says, a little too eagerly but you don’t notice. He takes note of the way your head shoots up, almost willing to hear what he has to say… okay, good… so you’re not completely grossed out- still just as naive as ever, “But only if you’re okay with it?”

You nod, “What is it?”

“Kiss it better.” Steve says. You search his face for any kind of sarcasm, but even though you come up empty handed, you still smile softly- a laugh beginning to break out. Steve mirrors your smile, “I’m serious, it really works. Female saliva is like a painkiller for it.” He quickly lies.

“Really?” You ask, amazed and too gullible for your own good, “So should I spit on it?” You ask innocently and Steve swears he could’ve cum in his pants right there.

He swallows a thick breath, “You’ll have to spread it around as well.” He nods, hands going to his belt and unbuckling it. As he pulls his fly down and pulls out his aching, hard cock that he had tugged into the waist band of his boxers to conceal his boner, he doesn’t miss the way your eyes light up at the sight of him, “See how it’s red and hard- it need to be soft.”

You nod understandingly, “Oh, I think I heard the boys talk about this happening to them on the mission.” You say absentmindedly as you go back to stroking his arm soothingly.

But it does little to help this time. Steve sees red.

“You didn’t touch any of their cocks, did you?” He asks you firmly and if you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought he was mad at you.

“No,” You shake your head, a little confused as to why that would be such a bad thing. After all, you’re about to touch Steve’s- and you would only be helping them, right?

“Good girl.” He nods, and you feel a few butterflies in your stomach at his praise- you could never tire of Steve’s praises- and he knew that, “So, get on your knees,” Steve instructs and you hop off your chair and slide to the ground, onto your knees. You naturally just slot yourself between his spread legs, propping yourself up on his thighs as he holds his cock closer to your mouth. You won’t lie- it looks very intimidating and you’re a little nervous, but you trust Steve with your life, “Kiss it better first.” He orders and you picked your lips and kiss the head of it. Steve throws his head back a little and you continue to kiss down the underside of it, nearly giving Steve a heart attack, “Fuck-“

You pull away as he curses, looking up at him with furrowed brows, “Did I do something wrong?” You ask nervously.

One of his hands comes down to tuck a stray hair out of your face and behind your ear as he shakes his head, “It was perfect.” With the same hand, he guides it behind your head, “Now, open your mouth,” You open your mouth slightly and Steve chuckles a little, “Wider than that.” You widen your mouth, “Good, now stick out your tongue.” You do so tentatively, sticking out your tongue fir their and further as Steve nods. Once he’s satisfied with the length of your tongue, he slaps his cock down onto it a few times. You’re a little confused, but let he do what he obviously knows is best. “Now spit on it.” He says, practically reading your body as you retreat your tongue and find a well of saliva already conjured up in your mouth. You spit it onto the tip of Steve’s dick, mouth nudging the tip slightly, “Good.” You both watch it leak over the head and once it reaches a vein, Steve nods, “Spread it around with your-“ You don’t know what came over you, but you just started licking it up and spreading it around with your warm, wet tongue. It just… felt right, “Oh God, keep going- Fuck.”

You swirl your tongue all around him, over his head and down his shaft- wanting to cover every inch of his cock so that he’d feel better.

Steve can’t take it anymore. He was going to ease you into it, but he can’t. The kitten licks are driving him insane and if he waits any longer, he’ll cum all over your face. He doesn’t want that- he wants to cum in your mouth.

So, with his hands cradling your head, he bucks himself into your mouth. You gasp around him, almost choking as he intrudes into your mouth but he shushes you softly and guided you through it, “Just relax.” He coos and nod softly, relaxing your mouth around him as he begins a gentle thrust inside your mouth, “That’s it.”

Steve takes pity on you and only goes as deep as you can fit him. He doesn’t want to gag you- not yet. He’s worried that would only scare you off and that’s the last thing he wants. No, he needs to train you- train your throat to take him as far down as he can.

Your nimble hands squeeze Steve’s thighs every so often when he shoves himself back in and he has to bite his lip so as to not smile. Instead, he just takes that as his sign to praise you even more- he knew how much you loved it.

As he sets a pace, fucking into your face, he already feels himself teetering on the edge of his orgasm- having already started it a few minutes prior so it was no surprise it had arrived so quick.

And as Steve looks down properly at your whimpering form, eyes doed up at him- just waiting for his praises- spit spilling from the corners of your open mouth and tears threatening to spill over your lash line, Steve is done for. A sight he could only dream of- makes him cum in seconds.

He groans as he feels it shoot out of his cock. With his hands still behind your head, he feels your resistance as you try and pull away at the newfound experience of his cum hitting the back of your throat, “It’s okay, take it.” He quickly encourages, “It’s just giving you back all the fluids you gave me.” You nod weakly and unsure, but stay nevertheless and take every last drop.

Once it stops and Steve pulls his cock out of your mouth, you swallow it all down.

Well, Steve certainly didn’t expect that. He had mostly expected you to spit some of it out- was getting ready to tell you a little white lie on how it was good for your body and that you shouldn’t have wasted it.

Which is why he had picked you up off the floor almost instantly, placing you on top of his disk and kissed you. He kissed you! You were frozen in place, but you still let him do it.

Only when he broke away did you finally say something, “Steve-“ You didn’t know much about sex- that mcuh was clear, but you definitely knew that kissing was inappropriate- kissing your captain nonetheless! “Captain, wh-“

“It’s okay- Do you trust me?” He asks you, seeming to totally brush past the fact that he just kissed you! Your hesitation is evident as you look around the room nervously. So you nod softly. “You said you wanted to make me feel better, right?” Steve continues and you nod again- this time more confidently because you were sure of that. You only ever wanted to please Steve… that was kind of like your goal in life… “So then relax.”

Steve kisses you once more and this time you return it. Your lack of experience is telling but it only eggs him on even more.

Distracted by the kiss, you don’t even register how his hands have found their way to your little skirt, pushing it up higher over your thighs.

Only when the cold air meets your revealed cunt do you pull away from the kiss and attempt to close your legs around Steve hands that has his hand buried in your skirt.

You look up at him nervously, and he’s quick to reassure you, “Sh, it’s okay.” And eases your thighs back open.

His fingers meet with your clit and you tense up. Why are you wet? Why now? You have gotten wet a bunch of times before, but why now? Of all the times.

You dip your head in embarrassment as Steve smiles. You’re wet! His fingers slide easily through your folds and you whimper at the sensation. Before you can ask Steve why you feel this way, he’s shoving two fingers into your right, wet hole.

“Steve!” You squeal, clenching tightly around his fingers- making his cock twitch in the air.

“You’re such a good girl. You’re doing so good.” He praises and it works for him like a charm as you become putty in his hold.

Once he deems he’s stretched you out enough, he pulls his fingers out and rubs your little clit with his thumb. You rest your head against his shoulder, eyes falling shut as it sends tingles all through your body.

Again, Steve takes your moment of distraction to take hold of his cock and bring it closer to your weeping cunt sitting at the edge of his desk.

When the head nudges your entrance, you furrow your brows and open your eyes- but before you can question anything, Steve is shoving his cock inside of you.

You cry out, nails digging into his arm, “Steve, that hurts,”

You weakly look up to meet Steve’s gaze as he stills inside you. You pulse around him uncontrollably and it makes Steve feral.

“That’s not how you address me.” He says firmly, and you whimper at his new attitude. He’s mad at you, you’ve done something wrong and you must fix it.

“I’m sorry, Captain, please,” You cry as he begins pulling out. You feel a bit of relief at the familiar empty feeling, breathing deeply and both watching as his cock head is visible again. “Please,” You hardly know what you’re begging for. You don’t want it to stop, but you don’t want it to continue.

Steve locks his eyes with yours as he pushes back in- this time it’s much slower and you can’t tell whether that helps or not. You control your breathing to see if that helps and it surprisingly does as when you open up your eyes once more, he’s fully sheathed inside of you again and you hardly remember it being as bad as that first time.

“God, you’re so tight,” He says, burying his face in your neck and inhaling your sweet maple scent, “Don’t think I’m gonna last long,” He laughs.

You don’t exactly know what to respond, or really what any of his words mean, so you kind of just smile weakly.

“Okay, I’m gonna go a little bit faster now,” He says, standing to his full height and firmly grasping your hips. You look at him terrified, but know better. You trust your Captain- and this is supposed to make him feel better… and you kind of feel nice too. At the hesitant look on your face, he brings himself down to kiss you once again- putting you in a momentary trance as he pulls out and begins a steady thrust.

You whine into his mouth, unable to continue the kiss and he smiles against your lips before pulling away and quickening his thrusts.

“Ah, Captain!” You gasp, “It burns.” You heave, clenching so tightly around him Steve genuinely worried for the safety of his cock.

“Tell me when,” He says, unrelenting in his thrusts as you cry beneath him.

“There.” You say, the moment his head shoved through your hole. Steve takes note and now, whenever his head pushes past, he makes sure to rub your clit extra hard. You moan at the feeling of his thumb rubbing you- cancelling out the burn of his cock with pleasure that courses through you, “Ah-“

“Feel better?” He asks, a small smile on his fucked our face as he continues his ruthless thrusts.

You nod meekly, unable to for any words right now as your body adjusts to his thick cock. Pain turns into pleasure and you’re quickly relaxing around him, wrapping your legs around his waist.

And true to his word, Steve isn’t lasting much longer. It only escalated when you relaxed around him, your body finally recognising how much you were made for Steve, wrapping around him in all the right places- like a key in a lock.

Steve’s hood stutter a little and you whine as his cock twitches inside you several times. He curses above you and you’re a little confused until you feel a warmth full you up. It’s a very strange feeling, it almost tickles a little as Steve paints your insides with his hot, white cum.

Steve’s thrusts have slowed a little as he kisses your neck, and you begin working your hips to meet his to regain that fast pace he once had. You feel something building inside of you- you’re not sure what it is, but you just know you want more of Steve.

“Please don’t stop Captain.” You beg, tightening your legs around his hips to cage him in.

Steve’s eyes light up at the way you’re now begging- when almost a few minutes ago you were almost crying. As he smiles down at you, he picks up the pace of his hips- uncaring to the overstimulation it gives him.

He rubs your clit much faster now as he thrusts into you and whispers a non-stop praises into your ear.

“Doing so good for me,” He says, “Make me so proud, my pretty girl,” Oh, you just about melt, “You’re gonna cum for me, huh?” He asks, “Can feel it in here, hmm?” He presses down on your stomach a little and you moan much louder, “Oh, you like that? You’re such a good girl,”

It’s too much. His words, his thumb, his cock. You snap- well, not really but you feel something snap inside of you. It feels so good and warm, and your cunt pulses around his cock tenfold.

You gasp a little, so unsure of what you’re feeling, but you’re not complaining. It feel so good.

As Steve guides you down your high, you find yourself kissing his neck softly, leaving a small hickey. Your eyes widen a little at the red mark, unsure if Steve would’ve permitted you to do that. But before you can apologise, he’s pulling out of you slowly and you’re frowning at the emptiness.

“This has to be our little secret.” Steve then says, tucking himself into his pants and zipping them up.

You look up at him curiously, letting him take a tissue and clean you up haphazardly before putting both your panties and skirt back in place.

“Why?” You ask, genuinely unsure, “What if the other boys-“

“No.” The grip on your jaw is threatening and you swallow thickly as you look up into his eyes… they look… darker? “Only. Me.” He says, “Maybe Sargent Barnes if you’re lucky, but until I tell you so, just me. Do you understand?” You nod immediately.

You didn’t know what that meant- also what Sargent Barnes had anything to do with this either. But… you had to trust your Captain. You did trust your Captain.

“Yes, sir.”

Smiling, he softens his grip on your jaw but his hand remains, “Good girl.” He nods, pressing a few small kisses to your lips, “You make me so proud, you know that?”

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*･ﾟ☆

OH.

BUCKYS TURN. PART TWO HERE.

idk if this was as dark as it could b buttttttttt go easy on me i’ve never written dark stuff before!

anyway happy birthday steve

#steve rogers #steve x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers smut #dark!steve rogers #dark!bucky barnes #captain america

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huffelpuff210 · 22 days

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Only mine Part 2 Dark Professor Steve Rogers x Innocent reader

Only Mine Dark Professor Steve Rogers x Innocent Reader

Steve looked everywhere at this party, but found you no where, He decided to give up his search coming home disappointed and empty handed, The next day was spring break everyone leaving for home, or going on some sort of vacation, Steve was walking toward the coffee shop you frequented when he seen your room mate leaving the dorm, listening to the conversation.

“You sure y/n? I feel bad leaving you when you are battling a terrible cold.” She says holding the phone to her ear as she opens her car door throwing some of her stuff in the back of the car,

“Fine but if you get any worse see a doctor I would hate for you to die on me while I’m on vacation.” She chuckles getting in the car and starting it,

Steve grew concerned He looks at the dorm, He knew which dorm room was yours following you home a few nights ago, He knew this was his chance, tonight was when everyone was gone, and you were alone, He decided he would come back then, He already had the key to your dorm, All he had to do was take it from the office, He smirked knowing tonight was when he was going to get his girl.

You sat on the couch covered in a blanket, a tissue box on the nearby end table, you were too tired to even make yourself any sort of food, You were pretty sure you had the flu, You barley had any energy to even go to the bathroom, Your cough hurt extremely bad, You thought you were dying too tired to even move off the couch, the show you were watching you were barely paying attention,

You take some of the medicine to help you can feel yourself getting tired as your heavy eyelids slowly flutter shut,

The sound of your door shutting echoed in your ears but you could not bring yourself to open your eyes you just assumed that it was just Jessica coming back for something, but soon you felt someone stroke your cheek.

Steve slowly made his way through your dorm room finding you fast asleep on the couch, he rampaged through your dresser grabbing some of your clothes putting them in a bag, He walked over to you stroking your cheek with his knuckles,

“Don’t worry doll, I’ll take care of you..” He whispered

Scooping you up in his arms. carrying you out of your dorm,

Your heavy eyelids slowly flutter open, and You notice you are no longer on the couch in your dorm, You slowly sit up and notice the room was massive, the bed was huge, the room looked modern with gray walls, the sheets and bedding were white, the bed frame was a thick wood with bed posts,

The door opens revealing Professor Rogers with a tray of soup and a glass of orange juice. you were extremely confused.

“Professor?” Your voice comes out raspy

“Please doll, call me Steve since we’re going to be spending some time together.” He says

He sets the tray on the top of a dresser, that looks like it was carved from a tree,

He sat on the edge of the bed, feeling your forehead, his hand cold to the touch,

“Still have a fever, I guess that’s what happens when you have no one to take care of you,” He says with a smile tucking some of your hair behind your ear.

You were confused,

“How did I get here?” You asked trying to get out of bed but he pushed you down

“I brought you here and you need to stay in bed.” He says

“Professor I need to get back home.” You say trying to get out of bed again But he quickly pushes you down again. But this time anger fills his eyes and he has you pinned down by your throat,

“You are going to listen to me doll or there are going to be consequences.” He says

You look up at him in horror, he is your professor, he was said to be a good guy retired hero, why was he doing this to you what had you done to be treated this way you didn’t understand it,

“Do you understand?’ He asked glaring down at you

You swallow the lump in your throat and nod slowly,

He smiled liking your answer

“That’s my good girl.” He says

You knew you couldn’t over power him, He was far stronger and bigger than you,

You were a petite thing, your dad and brothers always teased you for it, but you never really cared about it until now, he grabs the bowl of soup feeding you the soup, you ate most of it until you told him you were full, He handed you the Orange juice, you drank half a glass, until you started feeling drowsy your vision blurry,

“Get some rest doll, once you are better we will go over a few rules.” He says smiling down at you, you could barley lift your limbs, Steve lifted your legs putting them under the blankets, Kissing your forehead your heavy eyelids slowly fluttering shut,

Steve watched as you tried fighting sleep, but eventually gave in, He smiled at the thought of having you all to himself, all he had to do was rough you up a bit and you submitted to him, He knew you would be perfect for him,

He also knew you didn’t need to go to school anymore, He was going to take care of you, but being a few months shy of graduating he figured he would humor your family, knowing how a military family worked, he was going to have to humor them and let you at least graduate, that way he wouldn’t run into any problems, but after that, you were going to be his perfect wife weather you wanted that or not, and sure he was a bit older than you, but he didn’t care, you were perfect, it was hard to find a girl like you in this day and age and he sure as hell wasn’t about to let you go.

#dark avengers #mcu smut #dark alpha steve rogers x omega reader #avengers fic #dark professor steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #dark fic #dark steve x smut reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers #innocent reader #chris evans

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whereireid · 1 year

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𝐃𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐃

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨

pairing:dark!boss!steve rogers x virgin!fem reader

WORDCOUNT: 5.9k | warnings: dubious consent ! power imbalance (boss!steve, employee!reader) sexual naivety, height difference [6'6 steve, 5'3 reader], oral m receiving, rough p in v, misogyny, sexism, breeding kink, daddy kink, housewife kink, emotional manipulation, gaslighting, praise kink, spanking, captain kink, dumb baby reader (in steve's eyes), nonconsensual pregnancy, reader loves big mean stevie and loves when he taints her <3

PSA: YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. 18+ ! If any of these topics trigger you, please do not indulge in this content! This is a DARK!FIC, and is intended to come across as such. Minors, please dni - this content is 18+ and is under my #WOMNSFW tag.

summary: Steve Rogers is in deep need of a new personal assistant. You, an intern for Stark who often loiters around the Avengers Compound, put yourself forward for the position. You believe working under the Captain America will help you to get in good graces throughout your career. Little do you know, being America’s golden boy’s personal assistant means doing a little more than rummaging through files and writing letters.

—

So pretty, so perfect, so poised. Steve Rogers sits back comfortably in his chair, his eyes trained on you, never leaving, not even to acknowledge the poor waitress who puts his beer down in front of him. You speak proper, each word flowing from your mouth with purpose, your speech coherent, and your voice confident.

It makes Steve’s cock twitch in his trousers as he watches you. Your gaze on him doesn’t linger, but you do flinch when he reaches towards his beer too quickly. It makes his stomach flip, and he tries to hold back the hiss that threatens to slip past his lips. He knows he’s America’s Golden Boy, and that he’s supposed to be better than this; but he was raised in the 1930’s, and his ideals surrounding women never really fizzled out.

Your voice fades back in, and as you address him, it snaps Steve out of his train of thought. “So, I’m sure now that we’re well acquainted with each other, Captain Rogers—“

“Please. Just call me Steve. We’ve known one another long enough.”

He quirks a brow as your cheeks flood over in red, before beckoning you to continue your speech. “Well, then, Steve,” you swallow thickly, your voice dropping a few octaves, and Steve senses that he’s embarrassed you. “Now that we’re well - uh, better - acquainted, I hope that you can consider me for the position of your personal assistant.”

“What?” Steve’s blue eyes bore into yours, and they make you brood in anxiety. You feel childish, sitting in front of him in a flowery dress, at what could somewhat be considered an interview, asking to work for him. Perhaps you should’ve dressed nicer, more work appropriate? Yet, before you can blubber on, Steve continues; “doll, if you wanted to work for me, you could’ve just said. Did you do all of this to ask for the position?”

He blinks at you. Embarrassment washes over you like a tsunami wave as you blink back at him. Of course, you could’ve just said you wanted to work for him - you feel naive ever thinking otherwise. Steve’s not a stranger, you practically work with him every day, and he'd be more than enthusiastic to hear you out. He's not one of. the guys at work who ignore women and everything they have to say. He’s nice enough to always say hello to you and sometimes buy you coffee, and flowers if you were down. He's one of the good ones!“I thought it might’ve been inappropriate to ask you whilst you were training.” You shoot him a small smile, trying to ignore how the upwards tug of his lips makes your skin rise with goosebumps.

“Does Stark know you’re applying for this role?”

"He’s actually the one who suggested it.”

Steve takes a long sip of his drink. He stares at you over the rim of the glass, watching you squirm and ponder over his answer. He already knows the answer to your question, but watching you shuffle in your seat and act silly in front of him makes his cock throb, and he enjoys the feeling. You’re so innocent, pressing against the table, wide-eyed, acting as though your tits aren’t pressed together and basically on display for him. The dress is so low-cut. It makes him want to take you right here.

Did you wear that just to get him riled up? “Well, I can’t think of anybody more suitable to fit the position. You know the Compound, you know my office, and I’ve noticed you get on well with higher authorities. You seem like a doting employee.” He kisses his teeth slightly, looking down at the table, before looking up at you through his lashes. He tries to hold back the smirk on his face as he speaks, but it’s impossible not to: “of course, you will also be expected to work somewhat more flexible hours. Later start times, later finishes. We won't always be in the office at the compound - a lot of my additional work files are at my personal home office, but I can always make you up a key to give you easier access."

“Of course,” you chirp, nodding at him enthusiastically. “I’m okay with longer hours, and I can work around you and what you need.”

Steve grins. “Perfect.”

—

It has been about three weeks since you left your position as an intern at Stark Industries and began working for Steve Rogers. It was an exhausting process at first; the sudden change in routine, the heavy workload, the unsociable hours, and Steve often worried you would change your mind. If you couldn't bend for this position, you would break, and he was incredibly worried you'd do the latter. Perhaps because he hadn’t seen you frown so often before, but during the first fortnight of working as his assistant, your lips were always somewhat tugged downwards, and you were always so busy, unable to even joke with him.

You soldiered on, though. Managing to catch up to months worth of missed calls, avoided emails, old paperwork, and forgotten documents. Steve praised you every time you completed a task, and often he found you beaming up at him, prideful and flustered.

Yet, whilst peeking up from his desktop, he finds himself annoyed. You’re sitting quietly opposite him, noting down things and scheduling appointments, and he can’t help the twitch of his cock as he watches you do it. You're not incredibly busy anymore, and yet you're not engaging in any conversation with him. Steve knows you value professionalism, but he only really let you have this job because of his alternative motives when it comes to you.

His eyes flicker back to the computer screen, and then back to you. It's like before his brain can register what he's doing; he's doing it, but he doesn't mind. This is his office, after all, his space. You're his assistant, and if anything, you're supposed to assist him in doing it. His hands are wrapped around his thick, angry cock, and he pumps slowly, watching you intensely.

You're tapping away at your computer so innocently. Your eyes are wide and interested, and clearly whatever your scheduling for Steve has your entire attention because you don't even look up at him. He strokes his cock carefully, and slowly, and his breathing wavers as he runs a finger over his angry, red tip, using some of his precum for lube.

“You okay, Steve?” your voice fills the quiet room, and he looks over at you, his hands still wrapped around his cock. The naivety of your tone makes his cock twitch in his hands, and his pace slows. He makes eye contact with you, never breaking it as he slowly strokes his hand up and down his length. It makes him so much harder that you have no idea what he's doing, and he imagines what your lips would feel like wrapped around him.

“Fine, doll. Just a little sore.” Steve purses his lips as you nod. He meets your eyes, and you hold his gaze, concern plastering over your face.

You're so... modest. Completely unaware of what he's doing, and he loves it. Steve craves you; craves to taint the innocence which consumes you. You're too trusting for your own good, and one of these days, it's going to get you hurt.

Steve just needs to make sure it's him that hurts you, and nobody else.

“You do look awfully red, Steve.” You murmur across from him, concern painting your features. The heavy gaze your boss has on you makes you feel somewhat uncomfortable, but worry overrides any instinctive emotion. “Do you feel hot?”

Steve grunts in agreement with your question. He looks more disheveled than usual. His posture seems hunched, but he seems somewhat relaxed, and his gaze is hard and trained on you. You're unsure as to what's wrong - he's so red, it looks like he's burning up. Perhaps he has a fever, but you're sure the Super Soldier Serum ensures that he doesn't get ill. “Can I get you anything? Paracetamol? A glass of water?” you ask innocently, standing up from your desk chair, slowly walking towards him.

His computer monitor thankfully covers his crotch. Steve’s eyes don’t leave you, and it makes his cock leak when you softly begin to walk over to him. He’s almost certain you own nothing but inappropriate, seductive clothing; he’s seen more of your cleavage these past three weeks than he has anyone else’s, and it’s driving him crazy. The fact he’s managed to hold off from devouring you is insane, but he isn’t sure how much longer he can take.

Being the nice guy just doesn’t seem to be working. The hand which was stroking his cock stills, and he commands you to stop once you’re mere inches away, stood behind his monitor, so small he can hardly see you. “Do you own any appropriate clothing?”

His question is direct and his tone is reprimanding. Your knees wobble, and your head hangs slightly. Shame spreads throughout your body. “I didn’t realise this was inappropriate. My apologies.”

It’s unlike Steve to bark at you. Usually, he’s incredibly soft-spoken and considerate, yet it seems you’ve worn any patience he’s held for you thin. “Doll, every outfit you’ve worn this week has been low-cut and short.” He breathes, and your neck prickles with discomfort when you notice how dark and blown his pupils are. “I’ve been patient. I’ve been kind. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. But I don’t think these kinds of… outfits would be appropriate elsewhere. You didn’t wear these outfits when interning for Stark.”

“I’m sorry, sir.” Your subordinate manner only makes his cock twitch more, and he’s thankful his hand is sheathing his cock, because the precum that trickles out of its covers his skin and not his trousers. “I’ll try to be more considerate next time.”

It’s painful to let go of his length, but he has to, and he shoves it back inside of his trousers and innocently buttons them up. “Are you wearing these suggestive outfits to get a rise out of me?”

You gasp. “No. Never. I - Sir, I aim to be as appropriate and considerate as possible. I’m sorry I’ve been misleading you.” Steve rises from his seat, and you swallow thickly, feeling incredibly small compared to your boss. You’ve often been close to him - side by side, brushing shoulders, but he’s always been soft-spoken and gentle, apologetic and genuinely caring. Now, it seems like his patience is worn thin, and as opposed to seeing a civilian Steve, you feel as though you're standing in front of a soldier. “I can go and change now if you want?”

“No.” His tone is so low it matches that of a growl, and you cower weakly as he towers over you. Fear pulsates in your being as you stare up at him, suddenly feeling incredibly unsafe, and your heart races in your chest. Steve would never hurt me, you remind yourself, he’s one of the good ones.

You open your mouth to speak, but Steve shushes you. His finger splays over your lips, and you feel scolded and childlike. “I think you do it for attention.” His finger pushes against you, as does his body, as he stalks forward and you shuffle backward, trying to keep any space between the two of you. “You know, it’s been hard staying silent for this long. Watching you from afar, never knowing what to say or do.” His hot breath fans your ear, and Steve’s nostrils flare. “Trying to be a gentleman. Buying you coffee and flowers and cards when you were working at the Compound as a way to be friendly and nice. But I don’t think you want that.”

“I’m sorry, Steve.” You squeak out, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. Steve’s fingers gently press against your skin, wiping away any that spill, his skin icy against your own. “I-I’ve appreciated the gifts. I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” He asks, his eyes shooting down at you. You nod your head eagerly, staring up at him, trying to ignore how the dark look in his eyes makes your stomach flip. “I don’t think you’re truly sorry. I gave you this job to be my personal assistant. I expected more of you. You’re dressing as whore, and you can’t even apologize correctly.”

You swallow thickly, staring up at him. “‘M sorry. I haven’t meant to present myself that way,” your voice wavers. “What would y-you deem a suitable apology, Steve?”

“Captain.” Steve’s fingers find their way into your hair, and you squeak slightly as he tugs at it. “You only get to call me Steve when you’ve been good, which you haven’t.”

“How should I apologize, Captain?”

Your voice is an incredulous whisper. The subordination you show drives Steve crazy, and it takes everything in him not to force your mouth open and push you onto his cock. No, he needs to coax you into it - make you agree that this is the best way to apologize. Any other way wouldn’t suffice.

It’s as though you can’t believe this is happening - and in a way, Steve can’t, either. He’s always imagined this happening - having you begging him to tell you how to do something in a way that’s deemed fit in his eyes, having you be in pain whilst doing it. He curses slightly, before breathing out, “use that pretty little mouth of yours to worship me.”

“What?”

“I said, ‘use that pretty little mouth of yours to worship me’. Don’t expect me to repeat myself again.” He warns, blinking down at you, before muttering, “you’ve dressed like a whore, sweetheart. I think it’s only fair the Captain treats you as such.” His thumb drags down your lips, and you look up at him with such hesitation it makes his balls throb. He feels as though the look on your face could make him cum already.

Warmth floods over your cheeks. It feels wrong as Steve’s palms press heavily on your shoulders, the weight of him coaxing you down. A shudder leaves you as he forces you onto your knees in front of him, and you stare at his trousers, which are tight by the groin. “Captain, I don’t think -“ you swallow thickly, shaking as he comes down to unbutton his trousers, and flinching once his hands clasp yours, “-I don’t think this is appropriate.”

Your voice comes out in a hushed whisper, and he glares down at you, relishing in your embarrassment. Your eyelashes are wet and tears prickle your eyes still, “You’re on your knees now, doll.” He huffs, blowing out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding in. Your hands shake as he guides them to his trousers. “You might as well get on with it.”

“No I - I don’t want to.” Your voice wavers as he uses your hands to pry his cock out of his trousers, which is an angry red and seeping with cum, and you feel like scurrying away from it. “I-I haven’t ever done anything like this before.” Steve is stronger than you and the grip he’s got on your wrists makes you feel as though they will snap, so you decide not to, rather cowering away from his length in fear.

“Are you a virgin?” His question makes your head shoot up in embarrassment, your eyes wide and distraught, and he groans. “Oh my god, you’re a fucking virgin.”

“I never said I was,” you mutter, yelping when his hands strike you against the face. Fresh tears fall over old tear stains, and you flinch as his fingers splay over your chin.

He tuts. “Don’t lie to me. Are you a virgin?”

“Yes,” you murmur, shameful, eyes watery as you stare up at him. You sniffle, thankful for his gentle touch, which replaces the cruelty of his hands seconds ago. It makes your heart bloom with warmth as he brushes your face softly with his fingers, although he’s wiping away the pain he’s caused.

“My pretty little baby’s a virgin,” Steve coos, and the tone of his voice makes pressure form in your lower belly. “This mouth has never been around anyone’s cock before? Ever?”

There’s almost a deluded tone in his voice as he presses his tip against your lips. You quiver below him, your eyes trained on him as he pushes himself in your mouth. It feels wrong to do this with him - it feels exploitative, and whilst you opt to pull away from him, the wetness in your panties warns you otherwise. You’re enjoying this, and it’s making you feel terrible. You’re letting your boss take advantage of you and you love it.

You'd be lying if you denied the fact that you found Steve attractive. You had a thing for blonds, and the Golden Boy reputation he had made butterflies form in your belly. The fact he was so unlike what he seems makes your thighs clench and your pussy throb. A Golden Boy with an urge to taint; and somehow, you want to be tainted.

You hum against his cock, and it makes Steve’s stomach explode with heat. The wet of your tongue and the hot of your mouth is everything he’s ever wanted and more, and as your teeth scrape against him, he hisses, trying to hold back the smack he wants to deliver to you. You’re not ready for that yet; you’re a virgin, a sweet girl who needs taking care of. He needs to be gentle with you. “Nuh-uh-uh, doll. Cover those teeth of yours and hollow your cheeks - yes, like that, baby."

Steve breathes heavily as you take it in. It feels intrusive to your mouth as you suck on his cock, your tongue swirling up and down his tip. His hands make their way into your hair, and he gently begins to slide your head up and down, going at a quicker pace. It makes your belly ache with warmth as he does it, the feeling of his hands wrapped in your hair making you feel surprisingly... horny? It makes your face flush when you realize you're enjoying being used by Steve, and you eagerly begin to run your tongue up and down his length, tracing his veins and making sure to pay extra attention to his tip.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he grunts, his balls slapping against your chin uncomfortably, “make your daddy’s cock nice and wet.” Steve’s pace quickens, and more and more of his cock forces its way into your mouth until your eyes are pricking with tears and you’re almost certain his length is going to suffocate you. Gag after gag follows through with each desperate thrust of his hips, and you clasp your hands around his thigh, looking up at him, eager to breathe. He doesn’t let you.

“My perfect little girl. Let daddy cum in your mouth and he’ll forgive you for dressing like such a whore.”

It’s not like you’ve got much of a choice anyway. In Steve's eyes, he's waited long enough to paint you in his cum, and it doesn’t take long for him to finish. He pulls out slightly, spewing cum over your cheeks and lips, grunting with approval at the sight of you. His innocent little personal assistant, who has never felt a man’s cock before today, has just had her throat fucked as though she were a fleshlight. Steve groans, steadying himself by using your head for support, and your nose crinkles as you swallow his cum which had painted your tongue.

It doesn't taste that bad.

“Best you clean yourself up.” Steve murmurs as you clamber up, knees shaking, the heat between your legs throbbing. “I don’t want my personal assistant to look so... defiled whilst she’s working alongside me.”

“Yes, Captain.”

As you attempt to scurry off to the bathroom, Steve stops you. “I want to make a few things clear about your position as my personal assistant, doll.”

You nod your head, uncertain as to what he might say next. The sight of you covered in his cum makes his heart bloom with pride, and he realises that he has finally got you where he wants you to be. “Your role as my personal assistant is to assist me with anything I deem necessary. Whether that be sexual or otherwise. You got that?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Good girl.”

—

Your body has been aching and sore for days. Forcing yourself up from your desk chair, you jolt slightly at the sudden pain which shoots up through your spine. You look away from Steve’s hot gaze, which makes you feel flustered and funny, and you begin to flip through pages in your folder, desperate to keep yourself occupied and not draw too much attention from Steve.

“Come here, doll.” His voice is gentle, his arms wide and open, urging you in.

You nod your head, opting to agree. You've become conditioned to his sexual advances, and he accepts when you're not in the mood, saying that he doesn't want to pressure you. Steve is a good guy in that way; he wants you to move at your own pace. You only have to do this for a few more months or so, as that’s how long your contract is.

Steve taps his lap. You comply, carefully seating yourself atop of him, crinkling your nose when he gets too close. He notices, but he doesn’t care, leaning backward slightly and brushing a curl away from your face.

“What have I done for you to hate me?” his once confident voice is quiet, oozing with rejection.

You blink at him. “I - I don’t hate you.”

Steve hums, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. You shuffle uncomfortably in his lap, looking up at him with big, doe eyes, and it makes his cock twitch. You’re so innocent, so friendly, a big baby that needs protecting from the world. All Steve wants to do is protect you and keep you safe. “You don’t look at me the same anymore,” he notes quietly. “You used to look at me like I was a savior before you started working under me.”

You shuffle uncomfortably, looking up at him through your lashes. He moves slightly to get comfortable, and your breath hitches in your throat when his clothed crotch rubs against yours. “I still think of you as a savior, Stevie,” you murmur quietly, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek.

You’ve worked for Steve long enough now to know that the way around difficult conversations is to stroke his ego. His hand snakes around your back, and he traipses his fingers up and down your back slowly. “No bra, huh? What have I told you about dressing appropriately?”

“S-sorry, Steve.”

“Mmm, I forgive you, baby.” His hands fall to your skirt, and his fingers slowly ride up them. The material parts with the moving of his hands, and your body flushes with heat when his finger slides up and down your slits. He tuts. “No underwear, either? This'll be a little harder to forgive.”

You squeak slightly as Steve pushes a finger inside of you. “Y-you asked me not to wear underwear when I'm around you.”

“Nuh-uh-uh. I don’t remember that, doll. Don’t make things up to try and make yourself better off.” Except, he does remember it because he practically commanded you to strip your underwear off the last time you wore some when working alongside him. But you don’t need to remember that. Steve wants you to believe everything you do for him is because you want to do it, not because he’s told you to.

“Really?” you squeak as he curls his finger inside of you, ensuring he hits against your spongy spot. You try to ignore the heaviness of Steve’s gaze, and you swallow dryly, stuttering as Steve slips another digit in, beginning to fuck you faster with a ‘come-forth’ motion.

“Yeah, doll. Maybe you just wanted your daddy to have easier access to this pretty pussy of yours. I know how much you like getting that little pussy touched.”

His fingers slow down inside of you, and he gazes down at you with a raised brow. You protest, trying to roll against his fingers, but he grabs your thighs and shakes his head. “Bad girls don’t get to feel good.”

“I’m not bad," you whine, and Steve shakes his head in response.

“You lied to daddy. Said he wanted you to wear no underwear. You said it like I’ve been forcing you not to wear underwear when it was your decision.”

The sharpness in his tone makes you recoil, and you still your lower half. against him, not wanting to make him anymore angrier than he already is. “I-I’m sorry. It was my decision. I’m sorry for lying.”

Steve sucks in a breath through his teeth. “You know, I’ve been holding back these past weeks. I wanted to break you in.” He pulls his fingers out of you, and you whine in protest, but your sounds are muffled when he shoves them inside of your mouth. You suck instinctively, and he groans against you. “I’ve been wanting to use that pretty pussy of yours for so long, doll. Been wanting to defile you and make you mine.”

Before you can even react, the tip of his cock is pressing against your slits. “I’ve wanted to fuck you and fill you up with my cum for so long now.” His voice is a growl, and you feel frozen in place, beginning to slowly shake your head. “Fuck you full of my babies. And I know you want that, too.” He groans as he presses harsh kisses against your neck, his teeth grazing against your skin.

“No, Steve,” you breathe heavily as he holds you into place, your own body no match for the strength of his. “I- I don’t want that. I'm not ready for a baby."

“But you are. You just don’t know it yet.” His cock pushes into you, and you let out a whimper, struggling against him. Your walls sheathe him, and you let out a pained squeak. "Look at how well you take me, baby. You were made for me. You’re so wet for me. Look at you, trying to deny your rightful place as my subordinate. My pretty little girl.”

He forces his cock into you slowly. Your walls squeeze around him, sheathing his cock so well, and you whimper, squeezing your nails into his shoulders so hard you feel as though you're going to leave behind crescent moons. "No, Steve," you breathe, squeezing your eyes shut, desperately trying to get rid of the burn between your leg. "'t hurts. Stevie, I'm not ready."

"You're ready, baby," he seethes, throwing his head back slightly as he pushes his hips up further. "Your little virgin pussy is hugging my cock so fucking tight."

A mewl escapes you as his cock brushes up against the spongy spot inside of you. Tears prick the corner of your eyes, and mascara begins to brew below your lash line. Steve stares at you, his gaze passionate, wondering how he ever got so lucky. Not only has he got you exactly where he needs you, but he's also ruining you, tainting you for other men.

The only way he can truly ensure other men will leave you alone is to fill that belly of yours with his baby, so that's exactly what he intends to do. "Does that feel good?" he whispers, kissing your cheek softly. "You feel so full, baby?"

"So full, Steve," you whine, trying to adjust yourself to gather more comfort. Your walls rub against his cock as you adjust, and it feels kind of... good, so you do it again. Your hips slowly roll atop of him, and you whimper to yourself, pain mixing with pleasure.

Steve lets you bounce on him. It's a slow pace, and it doesn't hurt, though it feels unnatural to have something this big inside of you. It's not that you're entirely sexually naive - you've masturbated before, but this is completely different. Steve is huge, and with every roll of your hips, you can feel him. There's no room for escape, and your stomach flips as you throw your arms around his neck. "Steve," you breathe, eyes flittering shut as the coil inside of you threatens to break and snap, your toes curled in desperation. It feels as though you're just inches away from experiencing pure ecstasy, but you can't reach it, and it's making you so frustrated, you feel as though you could cry. "H-help me, Steve."

"You want Daddy's help when getting off?" he coos, brushing a curl away from your face. You stare down at him, biting your lip and nodding eagerly, and he groans slightly. So cute, so small, so ready for him. This is how you should be - begging for his help, needing him, relying on him. You're just a woman, after all; you need a big, strong man like Steve to take care of you.

His hips thrust up, and it's incredibly painful at first. Steve's pace is nothing compared to yours - you were being slow and gentle with your body, and he just wants to ruin it. His hips smash into you, his cock sliding in and out, and he peppers harsh kisses against your neck. You mewl against him, pressing up against his chest to feel him, your toes curling in your flats, your eyes dazed, mouth gaping. You look like a picture-perfect image, and Steve grunts as he fucks you, wanting to tip you over the edge.

It doesn't take long until the coil snaps. You murmur and shake against him, your thighs clenched as you cum, squirting all over his cock, drenching his balls and trousers. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god," you yell against him, his cock relentlessly fucking you throughout your orgasm.

"I'm gonna fill you with my babies," he growls, "drown your pussy with my fucking cum."

"No," you cry out, unable to move as he thrusts himself into you; again and again and again. You feel so helpless, so small and weak against him, and you stare up at him. His pupils are dark and blown, and his Adam's apple bobs desperately, his nostrils flaring as his cock twitches inside of you. "Please, pull out!"

"I don't think so, baby," he grunts, and with one final thrust of his hips, he finishes inside of you. Your walls squeeze him simultaneously, and he lets out a low, powerful groan, as he coaxes your walls with his cum. "Gotta make you a nice little housewife. Gonna have you popping out all of my babies."

Steve brushes away the tears which slip down your cheeks. He doesn't even realize how hard he's been holding you until he lets go, your arms riddled with handprint marks which he's sure will bruise. "Don't cry, doll," he murmurs, "you knew what came with the job."

"No, I didn't," you sniffle, pressing your head into his neck. It's wrong how his warmth and his smell act as a safety valve for you when he's the reason you're so upset. "I would've never - I would've never gotten into this if I knew what you expected from me."

A gentle sob racks your body, and Steve looks down at you, caressing your face gently. "Baby, stop crying. You're ruining that little face of yours." In honesty, Steve's patience is running thin. He's been good to you; caring, doting, paying you well for an easy job, and this is how you react? You cry into his arms after he tells you he's going to pump you full of his children? He's Captain America, for God's sake. You should be begging for it. "Just - Jesus fucking christ," he huffs as you continue to cry, grabbing your face harshly, and the sudden grip shocks you. "Stop crying. If you're going to speak, at least try and be fucking coherent."

Nodding your head, you wipe your eyes, which are tender and you assume, red. "I'm not ready for this," your voice shakes as you speak, and Steve almost feels a bit sorry at the sight of you. "I- I don't want this."

"Only good girls get what they want," Steve states plainly, staring at your disheveled face. He certainly got what he wanted - you look ruined, and you feel it, too. He imagines his cum is mixed with a bit of your blood; what, with him defiling you and all, he probably broke your hymen as well. The thought makes him grin to himself, and he utters, "I don't think you've been good, so you don't get what you want, baby."

"I'm sorry! I just - this doesn't seem like a fair punishment! I don't want this!" You cry out as Steve delivers a harsh smack to your ass, and you gaze up at him pathetically through your lashes as he tuts.

"I don't care if you think it's fair or not. You've been teasing me ever since you were an intern at Stark Industries, doll. I've been waiting to breed you for that long," his voice vibrates against you, and you shake your head, ashamed that you even thought you could get away with arguing against him. He's the Captain, and he has all of the control. "Anyway, you're just a dumb little baby. You have no idea what you want right now. But I do. I know what's good for you. Don't you trust me, baby?"

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cattordi · 1 year

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a/n i may start writing again whoooo knowwws???

summary chris is announced sexiest man alive and you show him much you appreciate his sexiness

pairings chris evans x notfamous!reader

warnings smut, tons of praise, oral sex, kinda un accurate bc i’m not familiar w/ how ppl are named certain titles/given awards, not proof read, fluff etc. 18+ MINORS DNI

literal sexiest man alive

“i just got named “sexiest man alive.” chris says as you walk back in the room. dodger is laying at the foot of the bed and chris is standing as he just walked into your bathroom into your room with sweat pants that lay low on his waist.

his body is covered in tattoo, which is one of your favorite physical features about him. “are you serious? congratulations baby!” you say as you give him a long kiss. his hand slides from your back down to your butt as you break the kiss.

“it should’ve been ‘hottest couple alive’ like cindy crawford and richard gere that one year.” chris says and you laugh. “um for 1. they split like a year after names that and 2. no one knows me or that you’re with me.”

at that moment dodger hops off the bed and heads out the room, his tail wagging behind him. “im proud of you though.” you say and plop another kiss on his full lips before attempting to break from his grasp. he holds onto your waist tightly with a faint smirk.

“chris, why do you have that look?” you ask and he hums. “what look?”

“the look you make when you want to say something, but you won’t.”

“i wanna celebrate.” he says and you gleam with approval. “glad you can get your words out hun.” you say teasingly and he grabs your ass hard.

you kiss him again, this time for longer so he picks you up. “i’m so proud of you.” you say between kisses as chris lays you onto the bed.

he leads a trail of kisses down your sheer tank top that your nipples are straining against. “thank you.” he hums as he pulls your shirt up exposing your breast. “you’re the sexiest woman alive.”

he takes your nipple into your mouth and slides his huge hand into your shorts rubbing your clit; starting slow but getting faster with every moan you let out.

“look at me baby, look at me.” chris pleads and you do. your eyes meet his as he slides your pants downs your legs and to your ankles.

when his warm breath hits your throbbing clit, shivers zoom up your spine. “you’re so gorgeous baby; so gorgeous.”

his praise gets you off just ask much as his mouth on you. he always says the right things and always hits the right spots.

“i’m coming.” you say and chris continues licking and rubbing at the same pace. when you come, your vision becomes white and you see stars.

“you taste so good baby.“ chris says as you come, “so fucking good”

when you come down from your high, chris’ pants are off, which you assume came off when he was eating you out. he takes himself into his hand and strokes slowly watching you.

“let me taste you chris.” you say but he shakes his head. “i need to be in you now.”

opening your legs, chris gets a full view of your throwing pussy which makes his harder than ever. “i’m about to fuck the shit out of your pretty pussy.”

you mean lightly as he positions himself between your legs and pushes in. though you’ve been with him for 2 years, you’re still not used to his size.

“you’re so fucking big chris,” you moan out as he starts moving at a slow pace.

his hips thrust and his movements starts to get faster. the sounds of both of your panting and praises fill the room. “you’re so tight hun, goddamn” chris says and a bit of his boston accent slips out.

“right there chris.” you say just as he hits the right spot. you’re vision fades again and you arch your back as you moan loudly.

at the sight of you coming on him, chris comes with you causing his thrust to slow down and him to fall onto you, leaving wet kisses on your forehead.

“you’re so fucking beautiful.” chris says.

“yeah but you’re the sexiest man alive.”

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lilacevans · 3 months

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𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝: 𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞’𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞. ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

✧.*ೃ⁀➷ pete's place | the intro | opening night | the playlist ༊*·˚

✧.* : ̗̀➛ paring: dark!steve rogers x female!reader. (non-descriptive) ✧.* : ̗̀➛ word count: 157. ✧.* : ̗̀➛ warnings: bondage, sweet steve losing his mind a little. ✧.* : ̗̀➛ requested by: @sgtnightwolfinthetardis ✧.* : ̗̀➛ notes: enjoy, my honeyssss. i hope u enjoy this little glimpse into stevie turning a little like the rest of his familyyyy. 𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑣𝑒'𝑠 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ༊*·˚

*this is an 18+ space. minors are not welcome here.

*this is a dark au. there are no happy endings here.

You whined around the double layer of rope between your teeth, the corners of your mouth tearing at the seams as Steve stroked a hand down the intricate patterns of the taut pink rope bound around your body.

Your skin jumped as he’d occasionally flicked the rope against your skin. Scratchy fibres pricked your skin with every attempt to move in a feeble attempt to find comfort in the wooden chair.

Your thighs flexed over the wooden arms digging painfully into your legs, the creaking of the wood filling the deafening silence between Steve’s long, deep breaths. Steve’s fingertips sent waves of shivers through your body as he painstakingly knelt down between your parted legs, his head dropping against your stomach as he let out a ragged sigh, seemingly battling with something deep within.

“Why did you have to run?” Steve questioned softly against the skin of your belly, before looking up with those deep-ocean eyes, glossy and haunted. “I didn’t wanna do this, angel…”

“Yes you did,” your minds spoke in unison.

#chris evans #cevans #dark!chris evans #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fic #steve rogers imagine #dark!steve x female reader #dark!steve rogers #dark verse #dark au #lila writes #lila's drabbles #pete's place #pete's place: the drabbles

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dungeonpuppykai · 22 days

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|| Fiddle ||

Description: Curtis is a soldier from lands far away. Curtis loves to tease you. Curtis is a jerk. Curtis is your husband. You do your best to deny Curtis' existence. Curtis doesn't mind. Because Curtis knows you are a fiddle to his touch, whether you like to admit it or not.

Pairing: Soft-Dark Army Chief!Curtis Everett | Spoiled Crown Princess!You.

Disclaimer: I do not own Curtis Everett (sadly). This story contains dark and mature content so browse at your own discretion, please. Minors do not interact.

Warning(s): Soft-Dark Curtis, he's kinda crusty dusty, forced/arranged marriage, power imbalance, fluffy smut with dark undertones that gets rough, groping, making out, dumbification, degradation, self degradation, ddlg undertones, he's intimidating, pet names, infantilization, play fighting, m!dom, f!sub, unprotected p-in-v intercourse, cock riding, overstimulation, doggy style fucking, spanking, choking, hair pulling, he's a man.

Note: Was gonna post a Sy thing tonight but it's not done yet and I am extremely tired so here's a little Curtis piece I did the other day.

Curtis' eyes are closed as he leans his head against the edge of the tub, his huge body relaxed in the warm water while a content smile tugs at his lips. There is nowhere in this whole wide world that he would rather be than in this moment right here; relaxed after a long day of hard work and in the proximity of his dear lady. The contemptuous voice of said lady, although hostile, is music to his ears as it rings in the distance between them while she begrudgingly rubs away at one of the many dirt spots on his body with the use of a soft sponge.

"Ugh, what do I, The Crown Princess, get?!" You are muttering to yourself like a typical naggy wife. "A fuckin–" your words lock in your throat automatically when your husband's eyebrows furrow in disapproval. "A frickin' no name foreign soldier!" You hate how he doesn't even have to open his eyes to get you to correct yourself. "While all my stupid friends– stay still!" You reprimand when one of his arms that you had extended in your direction to scrub the grime off of begins to get antsy in your lap for the sole purpose of annoying you.

Curtis chuckles and that irks you even more, as if your tiara placed on the opposite side of the tub on a little stool for whatever reason glinting at you isn't enough.

Your husband is a jerk and he's probably rubbing your nose in the fact that despite being all-powerful after your father The King, you still have to bathe his stupid dirty body like a common wife.

Ugh, you hate him.

"I am sorry, my love."

But you can't protest in the way that you want.

Because your stupid father had issued a decree upon your arranged union to him. That you would only be able to keep your crown if you stayed true to your husband and kept him happy. Otherwise, the Army Chief -a stupid title held by your idiot of a husband- could usurp your future throne and do with the kingdom -and you- as he pleased.

You hated it.

But you loved your position more.

However, your rascal of a husband made it even harder for you to stand him and keep up with the bargain when he asked of you cringy domestic services that made you want to punch him square in the jaw.

But alas!

How powerful is a damsel against her knight in shining armor?

You continue when you have made sure that he won't try and reach for your breasts now. "... While all my stupid friends got to have dukes and nobles and aristocrats, I get a crusty dusty baldy from who knows where!" You hate how your boobs hang from the neck of your dress.

Your depraved husband had them make a whole new wardrobe for you after your wedding.

And the fittings and cuts on your home gowns made you want to kick him.

He further irritates you when he lazily splashes some water on you in a playful fashion. You click your tongue at him and widen your eyes in warning even though he can't see you as you pinch his arm. "Stop it, baldy! Do you even know how long it takes to wash and style hair? Exactly!" You glanced at his buzzed head. "Stop splashing your stupid grimy water on–" you gasp, fully offended now as he remains unbothered with his eyes still comfortably shut. Water drips down your nose due to the hefty handful of the soapy water that he has just hurled right onto your face.

"You–!" You toss the sponge into the tub angrily as you reach for his face with your claws. "You are DONE! I will end you today– AHH!" You screech when he manhandles you quicker than you can process it. The only thing you see is him opening his intelligent blue eyes before he gathers your offending hands in one of his much bigger, rougher ones and the arm that you had been cleaning wraps around your waist before you are pulled into the water.

… You are in utter disbelief.

Your mouth falls open in shock as your eyes clench shut to suppress your rage. "How's this?" Your jaw ticks at his cocky tone. Warm water helps itself into your heavy gown and you're getting drenched by the second. You don't even struggle to try and get out because you are all too familiar with the unrelenting quality of the vice grip that he has placed on you.

You stay quiet for a bit and just let yourself simmer in your rage while you try to think of all the reasons why you shouldn't lose your shit.

But your husband is insufferable.

"Figured you could use some cleaning up too after a long, hard day of sulking around in luxury and jewels inside the castle" that seems to set you off in an autopilot and you begin to vehemently try and shake him off. But it's impossible to do so in the hold he has you in and that makes you even more passionate towards your resolve.

The bathwater goes splashing all around as you grunt and groan, wheezing a few seconds in by the struggle you have to put forth. Your eyebrows crease together indignantly and you kick your legs hard, pathetically weaseling against his chest with your hands locked above your head.

Curtis is no more than amused while you fume. He wordlessly holds you down with adoration in his pale blue eyes as a soft smile tugging at his bearded lips. He remains quiet and soundless until you open your mouth and then he's laughing at you.

"Unhand me, fiend!" What? You read that in your literature lessons recently and thought it sounded cool.

"Oh," your husband begins to shift forwards to press you against the edge of the opposite end of the tub, "but the big bad fiend fancies himself some little princess now" that's another thing you hate.

He always tells you you're too small for big girl things and that's why you need to be taken care of. That that was also one of the reasons behind your father getting you, his only child, married to a man like him.

That you needed a firm hand in your life that only he could provide.

Absolutely absurd, right?!

"I AM NOT LITT–" you suddenly freeze amid your struggle because your eyes have subconsciously flickered down to his pink chapped lips while his breath fans your mouth. You can't decide whether it's the way Curtis' chest firmly presses against yours or the way he has your arms suspended above your head in such a… big way that you inch your head upwards and mindlessly meet his lips, way too carried away by the memories of how good they feel to be rational.

As always.

The hungry way in which he kisses you back takes your breath away and both of you begin to claw and grope at each other everywhere you can like you are lovers who have met after being parted for years. The brawling couple is nowhere to be found, for a different kind of tussle has been initiated.

Your access to him is less complicated and more pleasant because he's completely bare. But the way Curtis growls when he's kissing the length of your neck and the lovebites that he likes to leave on your tender skin indicates that he does not appreciate the barrier of your skirts between himself and you.

"Up" he separates his lips from your jaw that he now nibbles at just enough to husk out his order. You quickly obey as you feel your arousal fill your already drenched undergarments, deciding that fighting could come later. You had the rest of your lives to do that, after all. Not that you liked to admit it when you weren't about to mount his cock.

Curtis sits back and pulls you on his toned thighs to have no hassle access to you. You whine and grind yourself against his erection as he peels all your clothes off hurriedly, occasionally grunting under his breath when you get too rough because of your need.

"Come here" he keeps your jewelry on but pulls and tears away everything else. Picking up your extravagant tiara from the stool, he places it on your head and you can't help but clench before rocking your hips harder against his.

It's a silent assertion.

An act of dominance.

A paradox.

You could wear the crown and have all the power in the Kingdom over every single person but your husband.

Curtis was your regulator; your owner.

The real master.

You were the silly little puppet that he controlled with his cock.

And while it never fails to offend you later, it always makes you even wetter when your bare body is pressed up against his.

You whimper to yourself as realization dawns upon you; was this why he had the tiara placed here in his reach when you started? Did he know this was coming? Was this supposed to happen? Had your husband tricked you into becoming the wanton little thing that he always made out of you?

You whine with a timid shake of your head as you place your hands on his broad shoulders to signal him to not move when he goes to place you under him. "W- Wanna ride…" You mumble like a baby and the tenderness of your tone has him roughly inhaling before he grabs your ass and squeezes it harshly, forcing your straddle to widen against him.

"Sure you can take it on your own, honey?" Even in your submissive state, you roll your eyes before puffing your flushed cheeks and that's how Curtis knows you are the one for him.

"I think I know how to ride my husband's dick, thank you very much" he snorts.

"Oh, so now I am your husband, huh?" You groan and clamp one of your hands around his teasing grin as you reach into the water to position his tip against yourself.

"I swear, you're so fuck– ow, Curty!" Your eyebrows rush to meet as you let out a high pitched throaty whine.

"Language" he warns dangerously as he glares up at where you're suddenly hugging his shoulders sensitively so his face is between your boobs.

The combination of the apex of his dick twitching against you along with a punishing smack resounding against your wet ass had been too much for you to handle.

You were just a fragile little baby, after all.

"S- Sorry…" Your knees shake as you remain propped up on the top of his cock, too stuck around his monstrous girth to sink down and too needy to let go. "P- Please help, Curty" he has to raise one of his thick, dark eyebrows at that.

"But I thought you were a big girl who knew how to ride her man's cock" shame nibbled at your blushing cheeks.

"N- No… n- not big, Curty. P- Please… n- need you so bad" you uncomfortably shifted on the top of his cock. "P- Please help…" He hummed as he let one of his hands roughly fondle your ass cheeks, his beard feeling the soft cushions of your boobs.

"Are you saying that you admit that you are my dumb little girl who can't do anything on her own and needs me for everything?" You nod so he moves you down but stops halfway to torture you just that bit more. "Say it" the slap he lands on your butt causes your cheeks to jiggle feverishly and you arch your back at the pain with a loud whine.

"I- I…" You clench needily around him and feel yourself getting wetter at how great that one thick vein of his cock feels around your walls. "I admit t- that I am a stupid little girl and I can't do a- anything on my own–" you have to pause to recollect your breaking voice, the tension in your band of muscles that his rock hard cock stretches forming knots in the base of your stomach. "A- And that I need m- my hubby for everything" Curtis hums and he finally rests his back against the tub again as his hands aid your movements up and down his cock to get you to adjust to him.

"Now thank me" you clench and feel your toes curl when he begins to pay attention to your erect boobs and his beard scratches the skin, chapped lips grazing your nubs in a way you can only describe as pleasurable.

"Thank you!" It is breathless and erotic in tone as your hands curl around his shoulders. "Thank you for h- helping me, hubby" your hips start to work on their own now, the water that is beginning to turn cold splashing down on the floor as you slide yourself up and down his hard cock.

"Wouldn't have been able to do it on your own, huh baby?" Curtis' teeth are sharp around one particular nipple that he had neglected the last time he was on you -which was a night before the last- and now he began his addictive mix of sucking and biting at the bud so you would be reminded of him every time anything brushed against it.

"N- No, hubby…" The fact that your nails are digging into his hard pale skin -that doesn't get tanned no matter what, much to your confusion- but it doesn't seem to bother him as he rams up into you each time you land on his balls makes you reach for your pussy only for your hand to be smacked away.

Uh oh.

It's a rule; your body belongs to Curtis and only he gets to touch it.

"And why is that?" Your vision gets dizzy as his tip begins to collide with your spongy bundle of sensitive nerves now, his girth having finally parted your walls enough.

You feel yourself in a daze as you gasp down at him, one of your hands mindlessly stroking his sharp features. Curtis' body is the most stunning contrast of light and dark. His skin is white as snow -almost as though he has been carved out of frost itself- and his thick hair is nearly black. He hasn't yet disclosed to you his origins or the backstories of the many scars that litter his body. But the menace with which he wields a weapon -though he prefers not to be a soldier around you, unappreciative of you ever showing up on the field or anywhere near it- and the way your father trusts him with all of your lives sends the faintest chill of realization down your spine.

Your husband is not as simple as the Kingdom Protector that he makes himself out to be.

Because the ruthless way in which he shot down the person who tried to abduct you when you tried to flee your wedding makes you wonder if you even want to find out just what you open your legs to everytime you can.

Or he wants.

"Hm?" Curtis pulls you out of your fear inducing reverie. "Answer the question and I'll give it to you, baby" you feel your tiara slip to one side and go crooked on your wet hair when he gives you a particularly hard thrust.

"Ugghhhheeee!" You gurgle as you throw your head back because of how he bites your nipple at the same time. You rake your mind to remember where you were, clenching hard around him when it does come back. "B- Because I am too d- dumb and my l- little pussy is too small to handle you all by myself, hubby" the profane words that would usually sting you tongue and appall you only further add to the pressure building between your hips.

You're so close.

Curtis growls and the way he begins to fuck up your pussy indicates that it's taking all of him not to change position and plunder you into the ground.

But he never refuses the wishes of his Princess.

His fingers finally creep to where you need him most. "That's fuckin' right" a loud moan escapes you when his thumb begins to swipe up and down your clit. "So remember that the next time you wanna argue with your man who works hard in the hot dirty field all day long so you can be a pretty little Princess in a protected Kingdom" your whole body is on fire despite the water that surrounds you. You're wet, dirty, desperate and on the very edge, the stimulation on your clit pulling at the knots in your stomach harder and harder. You're incoherent with your pleas and praises but Curtis isn't quite finished with you just yet. A firm tap thumps against the side of your head condescending as he readjusts your tiara. "Tell me you'll remember it" before he wraps his muscular arm around your waist to pull you closer again.

"I'll remember it, hubby!" You throw your head back as pleasure erupts up your womb and everywhere in your body. Your knees give out but you keep slamming yourself up and down his dick animalistically like a cock drunk nymph, placing your hands on the edges of the tub and using the grip to help move yourself. "Thank you so much!" Your ears are numb and hot, vision full of stars and neon shapes as you feel your breasts jiggle in a humiliating manner but you are too far gone to care.

Your heart is still erratic and your hips haven't completely stopped moving when he decides to take back all the reigns of control.

Being the simpleton that you are, you fail to realize that your husband didn't come. But that's okay. Curtis understands; little Princesses like you don't know anything but selfishness.

It's a good thing he's a taker.

"My turn" he breathily whispers in your ear when you have somewhat calmed down and now tiredly rest against his chest while lazily moving yourself on his cock.

"... H- Huh?"

A loud groan of protest escapes you when he suddenly rotates you on his cock like it's your axis, shifting onto his knees and moving you towards the opposite end of the tub. You open your eyes to see him placing your hands around the edge of the tub to hold on to, the realization of what he is about to do you causing your eyes to nearly fall out of their sockets as you sputter, too confused and fucked out to say anything substantial.

Not that your husband would listen anyways.

That is another rule; you are never to deprive him of anything, yourself being the top of the list of said things.

Curtis adjusts your tiara again as he moves back to wrap his hands around your thighs to both handle you better and keep your legs that are trying to clamp together wide open for him.

"Oh!" Your pussy clenches in defense when he begins to thrust into you.

And he isn't gentle about it either.

"Tsk, comparing me, a husband who serves his wife with his blood and sweat to those sissy elites who have never seen a day of hard work in their lives and only know their fancy words" one of his hands pull back to come rapping down on your ass, causing you to jump with a loud whine, the action causing him to groan as well as it sends vibrations up his cock. "Well you know what, my dear?" He pulls you back by your hair to whisper in your ear. "If it comes to it, do you think those dukes and nobles and aristocrats of yours will be able to protect the honor of their ward like I did?" Fuck, another orgasm is about to force itself out of you due to the sensitive condition of your pussy. "Huh?!" Another slap has you yelling out a response as you get rammed like nothing more than a common whore.

"N- No, hubby! I am sorry, hubby!"

"You better fuckin' be" Curtis sounds fatally dangerous as he holds you to him by a new grip he has placed on the curve of your pussy from behind. "No real man ever wants the name of another on his wife's tongue" his balls clap against your ass in the most erotic way you've ever known. "Don't take my affections for granted" he begins to toy with your folds just to torture you that much more. "You're too spoiled and stupid to handle me when I get pissed, honey."

He is breathless as he empties his load into you, cursing when the hot burst of thick liquid causes you to fall over again and you clench around him due to the sensitivity. "Look at this, baby" one of his rough hands clamp around your throat as he bends over you to fuck you harder, holding one of your thighs over his arm to allow himself deeper access. "You can't even breathe without my permission… how fucking cute" your lungs burn for air and your brain melts.

"Yes, hubby…" Is the only thing you can hear yourself muttering through the numbness as your body rocks back and forth. You can swear you knock out a couple times as your husband thoroughly fucks his orgasm out and into you.

Then he pulls you in his arms and against his chest when he is done.

"My hair…" His cock is hot inside your cavern as you cuddle into his chest, having been turned around again as the two of you snuggle now.

Curtis has always told you that it's very pretty, just like all your other features. "What about it?" Your husband's own breathing is heavy as he reaches to push it out of your face. Your tiara is long gone and forgotten after it went missing during the fuck.

"The soapy water ruined it…" You softly pout up at him.

"I mean…" The warm and blissed out expression in his eyes is evidence that he doesn't agree nor care. Your beauty is something he always compliments with no hesitation and complete honesty. You are the prettiest sight my eyes have ever had the pleasure of beholding. It makes you roll your eyes everytime. "We can be the baldies, the two of us, hm?" You huff and glance at the ceiling tiredly. "The… baldy couple…?" He imitates the way you say it in your exact accent and you can't help but push weakly at his chest to express your dislike. "I mean," Curtis is grinning now. Uh oh, that can't be good, it never is. "Bet the tiara would look even cuter on your shiny cueball head–"

"YOU'RE SO OBSCENE, UGH!" He doesn't mind the childish fist that you land on his shoulder only to whine because his skin is too hard for your pampered little hand.

Curtis snorts as he reaches for your hurting hand and kisses the top of it before slowly standing up with you safely tucked in his huge arms. "Only for you, honey" before he carefully removes you from his cock and hauls you over his shoulder, smacking your ass to make you squeak as he walks to the shower to get the now grimy bathwater off of the two of you.

Your head maid shakes her head from outside your chambers as she motions for the rest of your helpers to excuse you for the day. It wouldn't be until morning that anyone would be able to get you two off of each other.

"The Princess pretends like she doesn't know the Chief but he is the only one who has ever made her so… soft" one of the girls that basically grew up with you and was one of your good friends giggled shyly.

"That's because she's a fiddle for the Chief, whether she wants to admit it or not" the other one rolls her eyes as they walk away from the group.

"Perhaps that's what a comfortable marriage is" your friend muses aloud as the two girls turn the corner towards their quarters. "Being hopeless fiddles for each other in our own ways."

It was true, for it was not one sided by any means.

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boxofbonesfic · 8 months

Text

Title: Brave [5 of ?]

Pairing: Orc!Steve x Reader

Summary: The journey to Tarrath is not one to be undertaken lightly—there are more things to fear in the untamed places of the world than stags, a lesson you are soon to learn.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Genre typical violence, Warlord Nomad AU, Dark Fantasy/n AU, Enemies to lovers, Eventual smut, References to past abuse

A/N: 👀

You have been riding since before sunup, and your hips and back ache from long hours spent in the saddle. The pack sets a leisurely pace through the grass sea, meandering through the plain in a loose line. The vast mountains you knew are at your back now, shrinking into misty, faint points. They tell you how far you have come with their distance, and you wonder how many steps you have taken since last you were the person you had been before.

Since you left the woman you were supposed to be by the riverside—and how many more you will have to take to become someone else entirely. Though it has been only a fortnight sine you watched the village burn, it feels like a lifetime ago. Someone else’s memory, someone else’s eyes.

The pack keeps a steady pace until the sun is high in the sky and the mountains are meaningless pinpricks. The land changes too, the flat plains turning into rolling hills that remind you of the cresting waves you have seen painted in books and on tapestries. The only difference is, these don’t come crashing down to drown you, the grass whispering quietly in the breeze.

You ride somewhere in the middle of the line, the pack stretching both before and behind you, riding towards the sun as it begins to sink low in the sky. You can see Steve near the front, his sword strapped between his broad, bare shoulders. Like he can feel your gaze, he turns back, one thick fang hanging over his lip as he grins. You drop your head, your cheeks burning.

Let them see.

When you look up again, he’s gone.

—

Night on the grass sea is beautiful. A thousand thousand stars glow like fireflies caught in tar, stretching out further than you can see into the darkness. The pack does not stop, continuing at the same pace as all light fades, and the moon rises cold and clear. At first, the sheer drop in temperature is enough to keep you awake—without the thick furs and blankets neatly rolled and strapped to your horse, your ripped dress offers less protection against the biting wind. But after a few hours, despite the chill, your eyelids begin to droop heavily, your shoulders dropping as you slump in the saddle.

It is the feel of Steve’s warm hand on your back that wakes you, instantly jolting you into panicked awareness as you turn sharply to glare at him.

“Easy, Sweetmeat,” he replies. “I mean only to keep you from breaking your neck.” He raises an eyebrow. “Unless that is your wish this night.”

You scowl. “No, I—thank you.” The words come haltingly.

“The journey is a long one.” Steve shrugs. “You will learn to sleep in the saddle.”

“Or fall out of it,” you mutter, and he laughs, a loud boisterous sound that carries out into the night.

“You never cease to amuse, Sweetmeat,” he says after a moment, the words still colored with the sound of his mirth. “I wonder what the elders shall make of you.” There is fear at his words, but your curiosity burns just as brightly.

“What is it like?” You ask. “Your city?”

“In your tongue, Tarrath means ‘city at the end of the world’.” You feel your eyes widen in spite of your attempt to keep your features schooled into neutrality. “It was built into the cliffside by my people long ago, before we knew the arbitrary lines your kings drew on their maps.” You gape at him, floundering for words. The maps you know end somewhere out into the grass sea. At their edges, perhaps an orc settlement or two, but mostly… nothing. The impossibly vast mountains and the forests that border them are all you know.

But perhaps the truths you know are not truths at all.

“Have you seen the sea, little one?” You shake your head.

“What does it look like?”

Steve smiles. “Blue. The water is salt to the taste, but so blue. Like… two skies.” He motions with his hands, and you hold the reins tightly as you close your eyes and try to see it. More water than you could possibly imagine, as deep and endless as the sky.

“And the city?” You ask, stifling a yawn.

“There are great towers of red brick with fires at their hearts. And there are not so few men as you might think.”

“Humans?”

“And more.” He nods. “Elves, Dwarves. Children of the world before.”

You begin to slump again as he speaks, but this time Steve doesn’t wake you. He reaches across your lap to grasp the reins in one large hand. He loops them around the horn of his saddle. When you do finally begin to lean over, it is against his warm shoulder.

“You coddle her.” Bucky’s irritated voice doesn’t wake you—the firm hold exhaustion has on you is too heavy to drag your mind back to wakefulness, and you will not remember these words when you do wake again. Steve chuckles.

“I like her.”

—

“Storm’s too thick.” You, and the rest of the pack are crowded around Bucky as he speaks, the horses shifting anxiously in the stillness. You can see it, the band of dark, angry dust stretching across the horizon. You’ve never seen anything like it, like the Gods’ fury given terrible form. When Bucky had set out to scout, it was a pinprick–and now the cloud stretches almost as far as you can see. “We’ll be waiting days for it to pass.”

Steve grimaces, his tusks hanging over his lip as he showcases his displeasure.

“Aye,” he agrees, turning his eyes toward the horizon, eyeing the storm. “We’ll go around.”

“The pass?” There’s a murmur of something like discomfort that passes through the pack. Something like fear. “Gods damn it.” Bucky looks back toward the storm and curses again. “We don’t have the rations to wait it out.” He doesn’t ask—it isn’t a question. And Steve’s grim expression is all the answer you need.

“We’ll put it to a vote. The pass—or the storm.” He turns to the pack. “Those who want to brave the storm, step forward.” Lightning crashes in the distance, and you swallow thickly. By the sound of it, the pass is equally formidable. You recall the stag, it’s hungry jaws and fierce eyes, and wonder what else waits for you on this road—the one you’ve chosen.

After a moment, Steve nods stonily, his expression battle-fierce.

“The pass it is.”

The pack wastes no time reorienting itself, turning west to skirt around the tempest of stinging sand and thunder. Carol rides up beside you, her expression grim.

“Do not think we have chosen the easy road, little human.”

You don’t. “What is the pass?”

“It was a road, once. One that has returned to the sea and the things that live inside it.” Her voice is low, warning. “Men are wise to fear the zikaegina,” she gestures at the endless shifting grass. “It hides many things.”

“Why did you abandon the road?” Carol grimaces, her expression heavy with memories, knowledge you don’t share. Her eyes are dark when they meet yours again.

“Because other things used it too.”

to be continued

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