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#dark!steve rogers series
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The Lost 1
Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of loss, grieving, death, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
Characters: nomad!Steve Rogers
Summary: You move into a shared flat and encounter a mysterious man.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
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“And this is your room,” Muriel stops before a door along the short hallway. “You have a neighbour just across the hall, and two more on the other side of the kitchen.”
You nod. It isn’t an ideal situation. Not one you ever saw yourself in. But survival isn’t built for the fussy. There are many others like you. Those not so lucky, those who are dead. Many who never got the choice of a new home.
You keep your hand on your rolling bag, your other on your canvas knapsack. They’re full of items that aren’t your own. Second-hand clothes acquired from shelters and toiletries given out by the support workers. You’re on your own now.
“Anything else, dear?” Muriel asks to your silence.
“Thank you, Muriel,” you murmur.
She hands you the key and leaves. Before showing you your own space, she took you around those shared by the rest of her boarders. You suppose they’re your roommates now. A kitchen, two bathrooms, a front room with a tattered couch and old tube television. You’ll stick to your own four walls.
You slide the key in the slot, the metal grinding loudly. You hear a throat clear and peer towards the noise. The walls must be thin. You’re still alone. You let yourself into the room, pulling the door shut behind you. You flip the lock back into place before you shove your bags by the wall.
There’s a twin bed with a metal frame, a single night table, and a standing lamp. There’s also a shallow closet. It’s not much but you don’t need more than that. It’s good to have a roof over your head.
You sit on the lumpy mattress and the frame squeaks loudly. You stand up again and pace around. There isn’t too much room. It shouldn’t matter, you won’t need it. You’ll be out working and back to sleep again. You start tomorrow at the convenience shop.
You hear a thump and your head pops up. You can’t help but jump in your shoes. Ever since the city rained down around you, every bump, every sudden noise has you skittish. It’s nothing, only another boarder.
You go to your bag and unbuckle the flap. You pull out a can of beans and the pocket knife in the side pocket. You go back to the bed and sit, another shrill whine from the metal frame. You pull out the can open from the pocket knife and peel back the lid. On the same keychain is a small metal spork you use to scoop out the beans, eating them cold as your stomach growls hungrily.
You eat, bite by bite, staring at the wall, just beside the only window. It isn’t home. You don’t expect one of those. It’s just a place to live. To survive.
🚪
You take your toothbrush and your tube of toothpaste with you to the bathroom down the hall. It’s just across from the other bedroom on that side of the flat. The doorway is dark, beckoning you inside. You flip on the light and shut the door as you enter.
You turn on the tap and set to brushing your teeth. Such a basic and simple task but one you didn’t always have the chance to do. It’s almost soothing to feel the bristles in your mouth. It makes you feel almost normal.
You take your time as the mint flavour sticks to your tongue. You rinse your brush and flick off the excess water, sliding it back into the travel tube and capping the paste. You look at yourself in the mirror, not for long, just to make sure you still recognise you.
You clutch your things in one hand and flick the light off. You open the door and nearly shriek at the shadow waiting in the hall. You waver in the doorway as a tiny wisp escapes your throat. You blink as the dark silhouette stands with arms crossed in the dim hall.
“Didn’t mean to scare you,” the man says gruffly.
He's tall but mostly obscured. His hair wings out around his neck and his shoulders bulge broadly. You feel his eyes boring into you, as he can see through the darkness and you.
You dip your chin and sidle out, keeping your distance as you sidestep along the wall. You should apologise but your voice is buried deep down. You put your hand up in a show of deference.
“You done?” He asks.
You pause and look at the plaster across from you. You nod then turn your back to him completely. He must be the neighbour. You quickly shuffle to your room and hide behind the door. It’s much better than the shelter, you don’t have someone rolling into your sleeping bag, but still, you’re claustrophobic.
You mourn that most. The sense of privacy. Of personal space. Have a place that’s your own with people you know. People you love.
You toss your toothbrush and toothpaste onto the night table and huff as you sit on the bed. You frown and push your head back, trying to soothe the tightness between your shoulders. You blow out, breath rattling as your nose tingles.
You can never go back to Sokovia or how it was. You can only go forward and the road ahead is very lonely.
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whereireid · 1 year
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𝐃𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐃
𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 ��𝐰𝐨
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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All the Good Girls Go To Hell Masterlist
Summary: You come home for the summer but your break is not as relaxing as you expect. (Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers)
Status: In Progress
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
Part 10
Part 11
Part 12
Part 13
Part 14
Part 15
Part 16
Part 17
Part 18
Part 19
Part 20
Part 21
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biteofcherry · 1 year
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What story you would write for him - randomagnes0210.tumblr.com/701345413474729984/chris-you-inspired-me-and-i-didnt-know-i 👀
Holy fuuuck 😳🥵🥵
I'm sorry, my brain kinda short circuited. I need time to get it back to function. Damn. Wow. Okay.
that's a soft!dark Steve Rogers
An enforcer/mercenary Steve (maybe for mafia Bucky? idk), who can make things really bloody and still keep his slate clean of any evidence. From organizing a disposable group to do the dirty work, to a stealthy kill done by himself if needed.
He has a sleek beast of a bike, as well a bullet-fast camaro. There's always a weapon on him, even when he looks like he's there to chill only.
You don't see a gun? No glint of a knife? There's a garrote in the wristwatch, or in the beads he wears on his wrist. Not to mention the things he can do with his hands alone.
It's those hands that got you staring when you approached him with your little nephew at your side. The boy, being all moto crazy, couldn't stop tugging at your hand when he saw the Camaro. So you did what any good aunt would - you took his small hand in yours and approached a stranger, asking sweetly if he won't mind your nephew taking a closer look at the car.
Steve's eyes when they settled on you were cold and sharp like a blade. Almost made you take a step back. Then he glanced at the kid, who was staring at his car with pure awe, and back at you, his gaze softening.
"Sure thing, cherry."
His voice had a rich, raspy timbre, reminding you of how your own voice gets after a few good orgasms (which you gave yourself with the use of your toys, since your latest dates lacked in that area).
Steve's eyes shifted to your chest when he said that, a smirk curling the left corner of his mouth upwards. Your top had printed cherries on it. You found it cute when you bought it. Now you felt embarrassed wearing something so sweet it was almost childish.
You dropped your gaze, muttering a thank you.
You let out a breath of relief when Steve's eyes finally turned away from you. He bent over the hood again and your own gaze slid from his tight ass (you scolded yourself inwardly for even daring to look that way!) over the wide plain of his back to his hands.
Those damn hands that would be your undoing, you thought as you stared at them. Nimble and skilled fingers tinkering with something, a vine of dark ink starting atop his palm and curling upwards over the corded muscles of his forearms, to disappear in an array of color beneath the rolled up sleeves of his shirt.
You saw splashes of tattoos on his chest and reaching up to his neck. Your mind wandered through images of exploring hos the pattern looks over his back, his it moves over his ribs when he breathes.
If there are tattoos leading down his abdomen...
You were so lost in it, you didn't hear what Steve was saying, until you felt your nephew tug on your hand.
"Can we? Can we, please?!" The kid looked up at you with hopeful eyes.
"Um." You swallowed, uncertain of what exactly was asked of you. Feeling all the more embarrassed for it.
"Of course you can, buddy." Steve decided, not waiting for your brain to catch up with his proposition to take you both for a short ride in his car.
His smile was bright and charming, yet held a hint of predatory satisfaction. A cocky confidence you usually hated in men.
Steve's eyes held a mirthful glint as he caught your gaze, but also something dark that quickened your pulse.
"I'm sure your aunt craves a good ride, too."
You had to clench your thighs at the surge of heat that filled your belly and spread down, pooling in a small wet spot on your panties.
You should've said no. Your body may heat up for this tattooed, hot as sin stranger, but your instinct all but yelled at you to run away. There was something dangerous about him, in more than just sexy way.
But it's something you would find out much later.
Too late to run away from his possession, or to stop wanting him so badly.
If you only knew how lethal he was, you wouldn't say yes to getting a lift to your place after you dropped off your nephew at his parents.
You wouldn't follow Steve's raspy command and let him fuck you in the narrow space of his camaro - bruises from the steering wheel faint compared to the marks Steve's hands left on your thighs and around your neck.
If you suspected the dark web awaiting you, maybe you wouldn't like how he called you sweet cherry.
Maybe you wouldn't cream on his cock as he fucked you right outside of your apartment, in a dark corridor where any of your neighbors could walk, with his hand pressed over your mouth to muffle your screaming orgasm and hips snapping hard into you.
You wouldn't whisper a weak Yes, Steve when he told you where to meet him, scribbling down the address on a piece of paper and slipping it under the waistband of your ruined panties.
But you said yes to all of those things. You allowed Steve to do those dirty things to you. And you wanted more. Even if your instinct still alarmed of danger.
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boxofbonesfic · 8 months
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Title: Brave [6 of ?]
Pairing: Orc!Steve x Reader
Summary: The pass takes its toll on the pack.
Warnings: 18+ Only, Genre typical violence, Warlord Nomad AU, Dark Fantasy AU, Enemies to lovers, Eventual smut, References to past abuse, Fighting, Monsters, Animal Death, Violence, Mildly described gore
A/N: i’m having a ridiculous amount of fun with this story, can you tell? as usual, reblogs and feedback are appreciated and always welcome.
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The storm rages at your backs as the pack travels west. Wind rips at the furs you have wrapped around yourself, a makeshift shield for the freezing rain. The water stings your hands and face like little needles, and you hunch down over your horse. The rolling hills of the grass sea crest higher and higher until they are hills no longer, but great cliffs that begin to rise darkly in the distance. You swallow a nervous lungful of air, and taste ozone and horse-sweat on your  tongue. 
The Orcs ride close together now, forming a tight shape as they move through the grass sea. What did Carol call it? The zikaegina. Lightning cracks overhead, and for a moment, your eye is drawn to movement—but darkness crashes down too quickly for you to make sense of it. 
A bird? Above the storm? You grip the reins tight, remembering the stag. It’s wild yellow eyes, slavering jaws. 
“The sea is where chaos reigns free, where Halith’s light cannot reach.” That was what they had told you in the chapel. “The further you go, the more godless it becomes.” You shiver. You know only the falsehoods you have been taught by king and country—and the land has been savage, yes, but also beautiful. Halith’s light had never reached you in your father’s house, when you had prayed and begged for it, so why should you care if her indifference cannot reach you here? You look up at the sky, riven into pieces again with a burning bolt—
There are different Gods here, you can feel it. 
The cliffs jut up before you like jagged teeth, spearing the clouds above them. Fog rolls out of the mouth of the pass, so thick you fear you might choke on it. Carol rides up beside you, her back ramrod straight. With one hand she tightly grasps the reins, while the other rests on the pommel of the great-sword at her hip. At the front, Steve silently holds up his hand, forming a tight fist as he slows his horse. The tension is as thick as the fog. You know the horses feel it too as they shift, their ears flicking about nervously. 
I wonder if they hear something we do not. 
“Eyes up, little human. Eyes up.” Carol whispers, her voice barely audible. Though the rain stings your eyes, you do as she says, staring upward into the dark fog. The sounds of wind and rain echo off of the slick rocks, but the air feels eerily still as the storm rages far above you. 
We are not alone here. 
You are reminded of Carol’s warning—other things used it too—and you hunch lower. One of the horses whinnies, the sound echoing up the quiet cliffside. The rider silences it as Steve turns, his hand held up as a sign to stop, to wait. 
The screech echoes all around you, the horrible, piercing noise of it making you clap your hands against our ears to block it out. Trembling, you cast a terrified look at Carol. Slowly, she raises a finger to her lips. Quiet. Above you, somethingskims low through the fog, something dark.
Something big. 
No one moves. The horses stand stock still, and when you look down at your own, his eyes are bright with fear, rolling back and forth in his head. An answering cry pierces the storm, and this time when lightning illuminates the sky, you see it. It clings to an outcropping of rock, crawling silently down the slick stones. It is covered in, dark, wiry fur, with leathery wings that tremble excitedly as it reaches a horrible talon down toward Steve—
Quicker than you’d thought he could move, Steve grabs for his axe, swinging it upward in a clean, bright arc. There is an awful wet, tearing sound as he cleaves the screaming creature in two, black blood spraying his face. His horse whinnies, rearing up as Steve rips the axe clean of the thing’s body. Its carcass falls to the ground, steaming in the cool night air, and for a moment there is silence. 
“Zhut! Ride!” Steve’s bellow trembles in your bones. “Make for the city!”
Chaos erupts around you, but it is as though time has slowed to a crawl. You watch, horrified as more dark shapes drop from the sky above you, descending on the scrambling pack in a flurry of hungry claws and teeth. The rider in front of you loses his head in an instant, the bat-thing slamming into him as its jaws open unnaturally wide. You blink, feeling his warm blood on your own face as it bites down with a sickening crunch, its snout and chest covered in sticky red. It turns those big, hollow eyes to you, a long tongue darting out to lick at the blood staining its face. You have no time to reach for the bow at your back as it lunges for you, talons outstretched—
The beast’s black blood joins that of the Orc rider’s on your skin, stinking and acrid as Carol’s blade lands with a dull thunk. One of its claws lands in your lap, and you scream as it twitches. You sweep it to the ground, and Carol grabs you by the shoulder, shoving a short, curved blade into your shaking, bloody hands. 
“Ride!” She screams the word into your face, pointing forward into the mist. You snap the reins, holding on for dear life as the horse rears back, hooves fiercely pawing at the air. You and Carol take off, with her swinging the sword around your heads, trying to fend off the screaming, hungry swarm. The blade in your hands would be little more than a dagger for Carol, but for you, it is a short sword, light enough for you to wield with a single hand as you cling desperately to the reins. 
Claws clip your cheek, your shoulder, your horse screams—you don’t realize you’re airborne until you hit the ground, the breath knocked out of you. You scramble up to your feet as your head spins. There are three of them, attached to the writhing body of your horse not twenty feet away. Your ears ring with the sounds of battle around you, and the sour tang of blood burns in your nostrils. Others, your own.
“Run! You must run!” Carol beckons you forward, and your thighs burn as you run toward her horse. You can hear another of the creatures behind you, its wings beating against the wind as its claws narrowly miss the skin of your back—it crashes into you, sending you sprawling into the mud for the second time. It lands on top of you, it’s bloody jaws frothing as it snaps at your face. You grab for the sword, straining as its rotting breath rolls across your cheeks—
The creature squawks in pain and then goes still and limp on top of you. Its blood leaks down onto your hands from the hilt, your sword buried in its chest.  Numb and dizzy, you stare up at the seething sky above you. 
“Up, my brave warrior,” Steve replies, rolling the body off of you. He swings you up into his arms, seating you firmly on his horse in front of him. “Eyes forward.” He hands you the reins, brandishing his axe. “I will do the rest.” You do as he says, keeping your eyes focused straight ahead. You don’t stray, not when the axe whistles through the air above your head, or when the narrow pass widens out back out into the grass sea, the creatures screams echoing behind you. 
to be continued…
next
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nickfowlerrr · 7 months
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trust me - chapter two
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series masterlist
pairing: stucky x curvy!reader (dark!steve/soft!dark steve and bucky/soft!dark bucky)
warnings: not really any for this chapter but this series is dark so again, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. some mentions of paranoia, anxiety, and a previous attack reader experienced. +18 ONLY. (if i’m missing something important pls let me know!)
words: 1.5k
notes: a whole year later, here’s chapter two. i’m so unsure i’ll ever finish this series but i figured, might as well share what i have. this isn’t edited so sorry for any errors!
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You slept through dinner time, thoroughly worn out thanks to Bucky who was sleeping right alongside you on the couch, both of you naked as could be. You only woke up when you were suddenly jolted by something, someone.
Steve had arrived at the cabin, unsurprised to find you and Bucky still laying on the couch. He admired your form as you were pressed into Bucky, his arms wrapped around you, unintentionally protecting your decency. A lick of jealousy hit him once again. He scowled at his friend and kicked the back of the couch. Hard.
You startled against Bucky with a gasp as the force of Steve’s kick shoved the couch and would’ve had you rolling off of it if not for Bucky tightening his hold on you instinctively. Looking up, you were met with the dark, piercing blue eyes of Steve. You yelped in surprise, pulling Bucky’s body on top of yours completely to hide beneath him. He sleepily obliged, raising up on a forearm so as not to smoosh you. He turned to face Steve, looking annoyed himself. Steve was supposed to give him a heads up when he landed. He knew you were on even more of a hair trigger lately, not to mention how much you cared for your privacy, and how you were about anyone seeing you in any kind of state you considered vulnerable. It took months before you finally felt close enough with Bucky to show him any kind of vulnerability and he took that seriously. He knew Steve was getting impatient but the last thing he wanted to do was rush you. And he never would have let Steve just walk in on you naked like this. It was bad enough he went ahead with this rushed plan of his before even talking to Bucky about it, sending you out here on your own and only then telling him about it, and now he’s already made you uncomfortable within mere minutes of getting here.
“What happened to calling?” Bucky gruffed.
“I did. You didn’t answer,” he responded. “Either of you.” Steve’s eyes cut to you again as he spoke sharply.
“Alright, well, you wanna give us a minute to get dressed, pal?” Bucky said, just as harsh.
Steve rolled his eyes before he began to walk back out of the room. “Hurry up,” he barked as you watched his retreat.
“Okay, something is seriously up,” you spoke quietly as Bucky let you up off the couch to redress. “He’s obviously pissed off about something..”
“Don’t stress on it, doll,” he told you as he slipped his shirt back on. “Probably just had a rough flight or something.”
You roll your eyes as you finish putting your clothes back on and then wait.
Bucky leaves you for just a minute to go get Steve so you can all finally get on the same page.
You were fixing the couch when they came into the room.
You pick your head up and meet Steve’s eye instantly before looking over to Bucky and sitting down.
“So, you gonna tell us what the hell is going on now?” you say, sharper than you intended.
The tick of Steve’s jaw alone is telling as your stomach twists.
“The mission’s been compromised.”
You wait for him to continue, but he doesn’t.
“…That’s all you’re gonna say?” you question.
“That’s all I can say.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Bab-” Bucky tries to interject.
“No,” you say standing up in exasperated defiance, shooting your eyes to him before looking back to Steve. “What the fuck is going on here, Steve? Really.”
Bucky crosses his arms and looks to Steve for his answer.
“Look, there’s a lot I can’t tell you right now,” he says, suspiciously sending an annoyed look to Bucky as he does. “But believe me, you’ll know everything soon enough. The three of us are gonna be here for a while, though. There’s nothing we can or have to do right now, so let’s just enjoy the down time while we have it. I promise you I have everything under control, and when there’s something you need to know, you’ll know it.”
You didn’t realize how close he had gotten while he spoke until his hand came down reassuringly on your shoulder, sending an unexplained chill through you.
“Alright?” he follows up. Your eyes fall to his hand still on you before you look away, keeping your face down.
“Yeah,” you answer, though your tone makes it clear you aren’t satisfied with his explanation, or lack thereof.
His hand slowly drops from your shoulder before he squeezes your arm lightly and turns away.
“I’m gonna go get settled,” he announces before sending another sharp look to Bucky. “Buck,” he says with a nod of his head.
You watch the two of them go and then check the time. It’s a little past eight. You briefly consider starting something for dinner, but the uneasy feeling still gnaws at you and your focus just isn’t on cooking right now.
Instead, you go to the laundry room and grab the clean bedding, taking it back upstairs to your room to make the bed.
It doesn’t take you very long, and you decide to clean yourself up and start getting ready for bed, despite the fact that you’d just slept for five hours.
You wash off in the shower quickly and by the time Bucky comes into the room, you’re dried and in your pajamas.
“Hey,” he says as he approaches you, looking... off. You can’t quite put a finger on what it is or why.
“Hi,” you respond, instinctively wrapping your arms around him as he returns the gesture. “You okay?”
He picks you up with ease and you hold tighter to him. No matter how many times he does it, you’re always terrified one day he’s gonna drop you.
“Yeah,” he mumbles against your skin as he buries his face in your neck before taking you to the bed and easing you down to sit on the edge. He gets on his knees in front of you and rests his head in your lap as you play with his hair.
“You sure about that?” you prod gently.
“Yeah, I just. I get what you were saying last night. It’s not the same when Steve’s here. Not that I don’t want him here,” he quickly corrects himself, “it’s just different.”
“No, I know what you mean,” you assure him as you run your fingers through his hair, your nails lightly scratching his scalp before you urge him to look up at you. “But no matter what, we’re still here together,” you smile softly as you gaze into his dreamy blues, “and that’s all that matters.”
Bucky leans up to kiss you gently, taking your face delicately in his strong hands as he deepens it before he has to pull away to allow you both some air.
“I love you, doll, you know that?”
“I know, Buck. I love you more.”
Bucky grins, “I don’t think that’s even possible,” he argues playfully as he gets up and pushes you gently down on the bed, eliciting a delicate laugh from you as he crawls on top and begins attacking with kisses and teasing touches.
A knock on the bedroom door gets your attention as Bucky begrudgingly parts from you, allowing you to sit up as he goes to open the door for Steve.
“I’m gonna make something to eat, you guys hungry?” he asks, his earlier anger and irritation seemingly gone now.
“Yeah,” Bucky responds for both of you, “We’ll be right down.”
You hear Steve walk away and then listen to his heavy steps as he goes downstairs.
You look at Bucky petulantly.
“What?” he asks with a huffed laugh.
“I’m not hungry.”
“You haven’t eaten since lunch, you can’t just skip meals. ‘S not good for you,” he says, taking your hand and tugging you off the bed. You follow him reluctantly.
As you leave the room, you stop at the top of the stairs, tugging Bucky’s hand a bit.
He turns and looks down at you, waiting for you to speak.
“Seriously, nothing about this seems off to you?” you ask in earnest.
Bucky blinks, taking in your words before you watch him swallow a little thickly. He takes both your hands in his and gives you a half smile.
“Baby,” he starts, bringing one of your hands to his lips and kissing it gently, “you’re okay. We’re okay. Everything’s gonna be okay.”
His sincerity eases you just slightly as you sigh and nod, a rush of guilt coming over you for being so paranoid. You’re probably stressing him out for no real reason.
You want to explain yourself, the sudden urge to tell him everything about that night, the attack, the true reason you were so on edge lately - well, more so than normal.. - to tell him all of it, was strong.
But you couldn’t do it right now.
You’d tell him later, after you ate and you two were alone again.
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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year
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Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.
𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓:
 ♡ 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇 ➳ 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕 ❥ 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 ❦ 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌
೫˚🖤❀ *ૢ🥀೫˚🌑
𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐧𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 ♡❥
summary - the reader gets new neighbours, they seem to have their eyes on her.
𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 & 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧 ♡
summary - we see how steve is as your boyfriend and eventually husband
𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 ♡
summary - steve starts crushing on the reader after meeting her in the infirmary
𝐚𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ♡❥
summary - steve starts his rut and asks for help from the shield’s nurse omega
𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 ♡➳
summary - everyone seemed to have forgotten her birthday, except for one person
𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ❦ 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ❦
summary - king steve takes a liking to the witch in the woods
summary - king steve meets a woman, not knowing that she's a witch or that she planned everything beforehand.
𝐦𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ➳♡❥
summary - an argument occurs between husband and wife
𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐚𝐬𝐤  ♡➳
summary - steve leaves the reader for peggy, she meets andy, but the past always comes back.
𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ♡
summary - we’ve had a bad day, and steve is there to comfort us.
40𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ♡
summary - steve is back with his best girl, and they just soak up the moment.
𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ♡
summary - reader pretends to sleep to see what her boyfriend steve would do.
𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐭 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ♡ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 2 ♡
summary - steve and the reader are the most powerful couple there is, before the battle, he helps her with her abilities.
summary - after steve and the reader's training session, the battle began, which left the reader to watch the enemy take down her team and for steve to activate her darker powers.
𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐦 ➳♡
summary - colin realises how much he needed you when it was too late, several months later. he sees you again, but he wishes he didn't
𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ♡
summary - steve came home to his girl.
𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ❥ 𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧’𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 2 ♡❥
summary - steve pleasures himself to a poster of his favourite actress.
summary - steve had never thought he would meet you in person, but thanks to tony butting into things, he finally gets to feel you around him.
𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ➳ 𝐦𝐫𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 2 ♡➳
summary - the reader finds out everything was all a bet, leading her to confront steve and finally leave them behind.
summary - when the reader leaves steve after finding out she was just a bet, she finds a new home and a new family, followed by meeting the love of her life, logan.
𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ♡
summary - being the obsession of six men isn’t so bad.
𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 ➳
summary - sometimes, you just have to let go and put yourself first.
𝐈’𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐫… ♡
summary - you just wanted to look sexy for your man, but instead, he thinks you’re cute.
𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ♡
summary - you go out celebrating with your best friend, steve rogers, and end up waking up with some news about yourself.
𝐯𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ♡
summary - just a short drabble of vampire steve and bucky meeting succubus reader.
𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ♡❥
summary - daddy decides it's playtime during the game, and his best friend gets to watch.
𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ♡➳
summary - there's been a misunderstanding in your relationship, does it get sorted?
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐱 𝐟𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐢 𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ♡➳
summary - your ex-husband interrupts your time with your new man, causing a small fight to break out.
𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 ♡
summary - just something cute.
𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ♡
summary - you tease your loving boyfriend with photos of you, the only problem is... he's in a work meeting.
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧’𝐬 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ♡❥
summary - you surprise your boyfriend with a replica of his uniform, and the only difference is that it's more slutty.
𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ♡➳
summary - you confessed your feelings to dean and ended up getting hurt, only to find love in a much better man.
𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞… 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ➳
summary - steve compares you to someone he knows you are jealous/insecure about, causing you to become distant. he asks for your forgiveness, but do you forgive him?
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ➳❦
summary - steve was the one that got away... but did he really?
𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲’𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐞 𝐟𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 ❥
summary - your stepdad doesn't like how close his friend is getting to you, so the only way to solve the issue is to get inside you.
𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ♡➳
summary - after everything that happened with bucky, you found comfort in steve, slowly falling for him as he becomes your knight in shining armour. when you finally become his, it's the best day of your life.
𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫 ❥
summary - steve and you have something in common, he likes pulling your hair, and you love when he pulls on your hair.
𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 ❥
summary - you get steve hot and bothered…
𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈’𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ❥
summary - when you agreed to be steve's, you also agreed to be used whenever he saw fit.
𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ❥
summary - you get spanked by steve for what you're wearing.
𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ➳
summary - steve left you for peggy, only to realise five hours in that she was no longer the woman he loved. when he came back, five years had passed. will you ever forgive him for the sake of your son? or is your future with him no more?
𝐰𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ➳
summary - you wished you had more time with him.
𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ❥
summary - the moment steve saw you, he knew he needed to have you. so he thought the best way to get to know you… was to stalk you, what happens when he finally makes his move?
𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 ♡
summary - two idiots in love.
𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞 ➳
summary - you are sad and want steve to fuck the sad out of you.
𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐭𝐬 ➳ 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐧𝐨 𝐟𝐮𝐫𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 2 ➳♡ 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 3 ➳♡
summary - morgan gets hurt while at a family/friend gathering, causing all the women's instincts to kick in except yours. which doesn't end well for your relationship with a man from the 40s
summary - after your breakup with steve, you change, no longer wanting to deal with your emotions. after months of your team not hearing from or seeing you, they decide to track you down.
summary - you found your happiness
𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐮𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ➳♡
summary - harley's ex, the joker, kidnaps you. causing the two teams to come and save you.
𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ➳
summary - steve cancels another date, this one being for your anniversary, to 'help' sharon.
𝐬𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ➳♡
summary - steve is there for you when you don't feel okay emotionally.
𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ♡
summary - you've wanted your dad's best friend since you met him, but he seems to pay less attention to you than you would've liked. so, the only thing you could think of was to tease him at a pool party.
𝐛𝐮𝐭, 𝐢 𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐟 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮… ➳
summary - you love steve, but have to let him go.
𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐦𝐞 ➳
summary - the family you thought you had let you down, so you show up, showing them they didn’t break you.
𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ➳♡❥
summary - your husbands have been noticing something off with you, and they decide to punish you until you tell them what's wrong.
𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ♡
summary - you are in love with your stepbrother and vice versa.
𝐝𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ♡
summary - you go on a double date with your man, best friend and best friend's man.
𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ❥
summary - you are friends with benefits with steve, and your favourite position is being on top.
𝐟𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ♡❥
summary - you and steve have spent hours trying to find his best friend, and it ends with him taking his frustration out on you.
𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ♡❥
summary - you are scared of thunder and quickly find comfort in your stepfather and step-uncle's arms.
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐬𝐤 (𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧) ➳♡
summary - you haven’t been dating steve for long and you get into a fight, he finally finds out about your past relationship.
𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐚 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 ➳❦
summary - steve cheats on you, causing the team to turn against you to save the world from hating him. years later, you finally seek your revenge.
𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ♡❥
summary - you have some soft sex with the bearded super solider.
𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐳𝐲 𝐟𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 ❥
summary - breeding kink gone wild, your husbands take it to the next level by forever wanting you to carry their child.
೫˚🖤❀ *ૢ🥀೫˚🌑
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awhhhflush · 1 year
Text
The Meeting
Mob!Bucky x Reader x Steve Rogers (Massive warning - this fic is dark.)
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I'd recommend listening to this for this chapter!
Warnings (apply to the whole series): drugging, mafia/gang activity, criminal activity, age gap (reader is over the age of 18), arson, death, murder, coercion/peer pressure (non-sexual), manipulation/brainwashing, parental issues (a.k.a daddy issues), abuse of power, sort of stockholm syndrome?
Summary: Left to your own devices whilst your mother joins socialite groups with the other rich moms in town and whilst your father deals with those business troubles he's been having, you decide to explore your surroundings, and make a new friend on the way.
Fine. Maybe a miniskirt and Mary Janes weren't the best fashion choice for exploring the woods down the street, but you were yet to have unpacked the entire contents of your wardrobe. It was the best you could do. Besides, it would hopefully make a nice impression on anybody who saw you. The outfit painted a sweet, innocent, girl-next-door picture of you that you rather enjoyed. The plaid skirt went nicely with the cardigan you wore, which was perfect for the autumn chill. You promised your parents you'd be home by lunchtime, and surprisingly enough, your father let you leave without assistance. That was probably his first mistake, unbeknownst to you.
As you stepped out of the house, the October breeze hit you like an avalanche, a shiver running down your spine instantly. The shiver was also impacted by the eye contact you made once more with the man across the street, however. Your hands immediately flew to your skirt, tugging it down as much as you could to avoid judgement, earning a chuckle from the man. Although he was rather far away, you still heard his laugh and it sent an unfamiliar warmth to your core. You shuddered at your own avidity. You both paused for a moment, neither of you wanting to be the first to break the gaze, until he turned on his heel and gave you one more glance before entering his own home. Relief relaxed your shoulders, and you let the huff of air you must have been holding in slip from your lips. You clutched your bag as your stomach began to ache with hunger. Maybe it would be nice to have a picnic date with yourself in the forest.
The walk to the grocery shop, which perched on a corner flooded with crates of flowers and fruits, was thankfully rather short. You picked up a punnet of berries and some cookies, receiving both lustful and judgemental looks from most of the other customers. The cashier, who just so happened to be a suited, well kept man, whom was insanely buff and broad, that owned the shop itself, simply watched you in curiosity. You smiled warmly at him and thanked him as you left, the bell on the top of the door frame dinging sharply as you stepped out. Peckish, you bit into a perfectly crimson strawberry as you made your way to the woods your father had driven past on your way to the house. The juice of the berry stained your lips as you chewed and hummed contently. It was delicious.
The leaves under your feet crunched faintly, crisp and warm toned. The forest was riddled with overgrown greenery which had now grown limp and dry, but it was beautiful all the same. Ivy creeped up the trees, embracing them tightly. The grass was somehow short amidst the dying leaves and bushes. The trees cast a shadow over the entire forest. The place had a simple yet eerie beauty to it. Perhaps you could visit here more often. You found a tree, twisted and distorted, its trunk reaching out the the ground among the thorns and nettles. You settled upon the trunk, leaning against the upward twist of it. It was a perfect place to sit and relax. This place only got better.
You'd just dug into your berry mix as you heard a deep grunt sound before you. Your gaze snapped up, meeting the intense eyes of the man across the street. Your body immediately tensed under his watch. "We must stop meeting like this," he chuckled, the same sound from earlier reverberating through his chest, which was, much like the shop keeper's, exceptionally broad and muscular, his sweater fitted just enough to outline the muscles perfectly. You smiled softly, still nervous as his eyes burned into you. He held his hand out to you, offering it as a greeting. You shook it lightly, your small hand enclosing around his in a way that made his eyes darken. You didn't notice, though. You were too busy trying not to melt under his gaze. The man was incredibly attractive - it wasn't your fault that he flustered you so much. His dark hair was gelled lightly, stray and short curls framing his face. His eyes were a vibrant and deep blue, somehow radiating an alluring darkness despite their brightness in colour. He towered over you, and you were sure he would even if you weren't sat down. His shoulders were wide and his arms were large and rugged. His jaw was defined and sharp, brushed with faint stubble which was strangely attractive. Whilst it made him look older, it made him all the more handsome. His lips were plump and pink, in a constant state of soft smiling toward you. Between his brows was a crease, similar to the kind that frustration or anger would bring. But he wasn't angry or frustrated - at least you didn't think he was. Despite the time you felt you had spent scanning the man's features, seconds had not yet even passed. He seemed to freeze time. "I'm James," he breathed, "but my friends call me Bucky," and a smirk tugged at his lips.
"How does James turn into Bucky?" You giggled, playful confusion washing over your features. He hummed a laugh, leaning nearer to you. "When you become a friend." He purred. Your smile dropped, now replaced with a blank and flustered stare, heat rising in your cheeks. Bucky could've sworn his pants got tighter as he watched the blush erupt in the apples of your cheeks. You shook your head softly, the smile returning to your lips as you composed yourself and steadied your breathing, eyes bearing into his. "I mean where did the name come from." You simpered. "My last name's Buchanan," he explained, his eyes flickering between each of yours. The moment was oddly intense, sending warm shivers through you. Your stomach broke out in frenzied butterflies. "Oh," you breathed, and with that, a content silence settled upon the both of you. After a few seconds, Bucky broke the silence. "I was just about to go on a stroll," He said smoothly, his eyes shining with mischief. "Care to join me?" And his hand brushed against yours once more.
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Comfortable silence had lingered for long enough, and Bucky wanted to hear your voice again. The leaves crunched beneath your feet as you walked, but Bucky's deep voice broke through the haze that nature's ambience has lured you into. "So, where'd you move from?" He asked, turning to peer at you as you did the same. "Leesville," you muttered, nostalgia washing over you. You'd never had the most exciting social life, but Leesville had still been your childhood home. The look of gloom that clouded your expression made Bucky's hand move on it's own. He reached towards your face, hand cupping your jaw as his thumb swiped over your lips. "Strawberry juice," he mumbled softly in response to your look of surprise. Once again, the blush he had reacted so extremely to before sprung back to life, an almost inaudible groan sounding from his throat instinctively. You blinked at him, the same blank expression settling on your face, your lips parting as you exhaled shakily. You couldn't wrap your head around how easily this man was effecting you, this stranger, this new friend.
The two of you spoke and walked until the sky began to darken, when the realisation that lunchtime had long passed hit you. A small gasp left your lips, as you spun to face Bucky. His eyebrow quirked in confusion, to which you yelped, "I was supposed to be back home for lunch!" You absentmindedly grasped his hand and began to rush back the way you came, before his hand tightened around yours, the realisation of your action falling over you. You quickly dropped your hand and continued speed walking until you passed the tree you had sat at. Huffing, and clutching your chest in exhaustion, you heard Bucky catch up with you, his strides long and steady. "I'll walk you home. Besides, you're a big girl, I'm sure your parents won't mind." He insisted. You just stared at him as he began to walk ahead of you, glancing back at you just how he had that morning, until your senses came back to you and the panic clouding your mind subsided. He was right. You were old enough to get home a whatever time you wanted - except, it was more so to do with your safety than your age.
Rounding the corner and approaching the both of your houses, Bucky cleared his throat. You looked at him expectantly, and your mouth hung slack when you processed what he had to say. "Would you like to have coffee with me tomorrow?" He'd asked. This man, this god-carved hunk, the most attractive man you'd admittedly ever seen, was asking you, a girl he'd only just met, a girl at least 10 years younger than him, out to coffee. You'd assumed he only walked with you out of politeness, because he'd bumped into you and introduced himself. You'd assumed he was only being courteous because you had just moved in. But no, he had walked with you because he, James Buchanan, wanted to walk with you. He, burly Bucky, wanted to spend time with you. It was his eyes, exploring yours in expectance, that bought you back from the depths of your thoughts. You gulped, unable to verbally accept his offer, and nodded. You were eager, don't be mistaken, but you'd never had any friends. You knew you were attractive, but to be thrown from your typical lonely state into a state of possible romance shook you. Bucky, leaving you just as he had greeted you, chuckled in response and shook his head at your obvious nervousness. "How does 11 work for you?" He asked, not even expecting a verbal answer anymore. You only nodded again, before quickly heading up your porch steps and into your strangely quiet home, leaving Bucky behind you, smirking, eyes dark and hooded.
Author's Note: Okay, I'm quite nervous to publish this... this is my first time allowing my writing to include outward sexuality. I'm hoping it isn't too cringey? This is also my first series! So I'm hoping it turns our nicely. Enjoy!!
Taglist: (comment to be added.) @chemtrails-club
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the girl next door 1
Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.
Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.
Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.
This lewk but silverfox
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“Mom, we should get going,” you say as you check your bag.
Your mother sits at the table. It’s cluttered as always. You can see her inhaler amid the mess. Wait, there’s another one. You cross the kitchen, only two steps, and grab both inhalers. You feel the subtle difference between them.
You take both, putting the full one back in the medicine cabinet and the other in the disposal bin. The doctor said the inhalent would help with your mother’s dopamine levels, balances her out a little, but the new treatment only seems to be another symptom of her disease. She hates doing it, she hates all of it, but you can’t blame her for that.
“We can’t be late for the consultation. We’ll be waiting another six months,” you come back to the kitchen.
She looks at you as she wobbles slightly. The tremor is more prominent than before. Each day you notice it more. All the little things changing about her. She’s a bit slower, her words don’t come easy or always clearly, and her mood grows grimmer and grimmer. So does yours.
You grab your purse and the keys. You’ll clean up when you get home. It doesn’t take very long for living to pile up though. Especially when you’re the only one to keep it in order.
Your mother grips the table and stands up. Getting her dressed was a battle already won. Her posture is slightly crooked as she shuffles around the table, “I’m moving.”
You step back, waiting patiently for her to round the table. She grumbles. Your mother was never bright and bubbly but ever since her diagnosis, she’s lost any glimmer of warmth. It’s like she’s living in a fog, just slowly wading through.
You walk down the hall ahead of her and pick out your shoes from the rack. As you kneel to tie your sneakers, she leans on the wall and slides her feet into the orthotic flats. She’s not very old yet. Neither of you expected her to decline so quickly.
You stand and open the door. You back up though the screen door and hold it for her. Her steps get a bit smoother the more she moves around. The permanent scowl sinks into the lines of her face as she comes out onto the porch. You lock the door behind her as she grunts and leans on the railing, stamping down each step to the walkway.
You follow behind her. That’s another problem. The lawn. The old mower broke. You haven’t been able to replace it.
As you trail your mother to the car, she swats you away. Sometimes you try too much for her. You know she must feel helpless. You back up as she sits heavily in the passenger seat and your eyes skim around the neighbourhood. The white sign on the lawn next to yours catches your eye.
You remember the finely dressed woman, her very image on the sign, and how she grimaced at the weeds and grass. If she’s going to sell the property, the neighbours shouldn’t be living in a jungle. You heard her say as much over the phone as she paced back and forth on the porch.
You mother pulls the door shut but it doesn’t click. You give it an extra push to secure it and round the hood. You get in the car and turn the key, rolling down the windows as the early summer morning crowds the tight space. Your mother mutters and wipes her forehead with a shaky hand.
“Let’s just go,” she sneers, “waste of my time...” she bends her arm over the open window, her fingers quivering, “damn doctors said it enough. Nothing they can do. Charlatans.”
“Mom,” you chide gently, “the surgery could help. If you qualify--”
“I heard ya last night,” she snaps. “Just drive.”
You nod and snap your mouth shut. You shift into reverse and back out of the drive. You know better than to talk too much. Your mother never liked hearing anything she didn’t want to hear. Facts are just an attack on her.
You steer down the street slowly, following the curve of the suburban street. The green lawns and white picket fences are palatial at first glance. It’s a 1950s fever dream implanted in the twenty-first century.
Your house is the black stain on an otherwise pristine canvas. The HOA must curse your grandmother for her leaving a perfectly nice home to a pair of beatnicks. You don’t blame them. You’re the puzzle piece that doesn’t fit, leaving a gaping hole in the picture.
The radio crackles on and you wince. Your mother struggles to turn the knob and the volume pendulums up and down. You reach to help her and she smacks your hand, only softly as she has little strength behind it. You retract and grip the wheel, listening to buzzing struggle of her unsteady. You just hope the appointment goes well.
🏠
Your mother hasn’t said much since the appointment. That worries you. What should be good news is just another dark cloud over her.
She sits as she often does; half-reclined in the chair by the window, watching the neighbourhood just outside the pane. She’s just a resentful of the picture-perfect neighbours as she if of everything else. As she is of you.
You tidy the kitchen table as the unsaid dangles in the air. You know better than to bring it up. She barely acknowledged it when the doctor said it. She’s a good candidate for surgery but it isn’t a cure. It will help with the symptoms but not stop them altogether. It’s not good enough for her but it might just be her only hope of relief, even if temporary.
“Bring me a coke,” your mother calls through and you hear the hollow tin clatter of an empty can.
You bring the dirty dishes to the sink and set them beside it. You go to the fridge to grab a red branded can and let the door shut on its own. As you enter the living room, your mother sits forward, the recliner snapping forward with her weight. She leans on and elbow as she squints through the window and cranes over the armrest.
You pick up the old can and put the new one on the small table by the chair. She sits back and takes the Coke, trembling as she struggles to crack the tab. You know better than to help her. The curl in her lip warns you better.
“Someone’s looking at the place next door,” she says.
“Oh?” You move behind her chair and try to the next house. You can only really see the edge of the porch from here. You could open the side window but that would give more than a view of the siding and might be too obvious. “New neighbours.”
“Eh, if it sells. Could do better without these stuck-up prissy bitches running around measuring grass,” she growls of the Home Owners’ Association.
You nod. She’s right. You’ve had to deal with that nosy blonde too many times.
“We’ll see,” she mutters as she finally gets the can open and slurps. “Just hope it’s not another bitch.”
You cross your arms and step closer to the window. You sense movement just beyond your vision and the realtor in her pantsuit comes down the front steps of the neighbouring house. She turns back to face someone you can’t see and speaks to him. Their words are garbled by the barrier of window and wall.
The woman smiles and spins to strut down to the sidewalk. A man follows after, a slow stroll in his long legs. He turns to face the house again and puts his hands in his pockets as he looks up at the facade. His eyes narrow as he considers it.
His gray hair is streaked with remnants of its former blond. If it wasn’t for the colour of his locks, you might not have guessed his age. He’s tall and his shoulders are broad. He’s built finely for any era.
Your mother leans forward again, “heh, lookie there,” she slurs.
She leers through the window as you stare blankly out. A new neighbour just means another person to complain about the lawn; or another person for your mother to complain about. The man pivots on his sole and pauses, his gaze set in your direction. You don’t think he can see you, not with how the sun reflects off the square panes. He stalls for just a moment before he turns complete, striding up towards the realtor.
You back up and retreat toward the kitchen. You mother hums as she continues to snoop through the window. The recliner squeaks beneath her as she shifts in the seat.
“Bit old for a family man,” she tuts.
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whereireid · 1 year
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𝐃𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐃 - 2/2
𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨
pairing: dark!ex-boss!steve rogers x fem!reader
WORDCOUNT: 4.6k warnings: dubious consent ! - sexually naive reader, rough p in v, oral sex [m + f receiving] - height difference [6'6 steve, 5'3 reader] -, misogyny, sexism: breeding kinks -daddy kink, captain kink. choking, pregnant!reader: spanking, gaslighting- especially shein at the end LOL - emotional abuse, assimilation, kidnapping slight mention - steve gets his happy ending
PSA: YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. THIS CONTENT IS CONSIDERED MATURE. 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: Once Captain America's assistant, you're now the up-coming mother of his child. After Steve's jealousy finally becomes out of hand, you snap at him, only to realise that's the very last thing you should do to a Super Soldier. He decides that your defiance lights a match to spark the fire of you being a brilliant mother.
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It’s not like Steve to get this riled up. It’s just difficult watching you discuss initiative with a rookie rather than paying attention to him. He watches as your small hand falls down to brush over your stomach, wondering if your fingers splay over it as a means to reassure yourself that the baby growing inside of you is okay.
Jealousy isn’t a good look on Steve. He’s not a complete airhead - he knows dames usually don’t like it when a man gets stupidly possessive and starts trying to control them, but he just can’t help it. You’re his - literally. Not only are you literally his personal assistant, but you’re also his fiancé and the mother of his child.
“Sweetheart, don’t you think it’s time we get home now?” His voice booms across the training room, his thick hands coming up to massage your shoulders softly. “This much standing can’t be too good for the baby.”
You're terrible at analysis, Steve realizes. You hadn't even noticed he had approached you - evident by how his touch makes you flinch. He feels your nerves jolt beneath him, but to the regular human eye, nothing appears wrong. Steve admits that you’ve grown incredibly wary of his touch recently, only engaging in displays of affection when around other people. In the comfort of your shared home, though, it’s like when he touches you, your body slithers with disgust.
“I am growing slightly tired.” You throw an apologetic smile over at the rookie you were speaking to, all whilst leaning into Steve's touch willingly. He doesn’t miss the prickles of goosebumps that ripple up your skin, the fear which prickles at the back of your neck. He frowns - has his touch ever been unloving, unkind? “I think it’s best I go home and rest up."
Your mutter a few apologies, which forces an eye roll from Steve. Why are you apologizing to people who aren't even worth your time? Frustrated, he begins to steer you out of the compound quickly, irritated as you shuffle away from his touch as though his mere skin is poison.
The drive back to your shared home is silent. Steve is seething as he drives, his grip on the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles are beginning to turn white. He’s tried to be patient and understanding - he really has. But he’s blessed you and he doesn’t understand why you’re so hell-bent on rejecting him and then repenting as though he's a curse. You’re throwing tantrums similarly to what a toddler would, sitting next to him in silence and stewing in unspoken anger, and Steve can’t help but feel slightly hurt by your actions.
Is he not good enough for you? Is that it? Or have you grown tired of him? He has been more than kind, allowing you to still attend work despite the fact you’re growing his child. He has bent and adapted so you do not break, shrugging away every single urge to force tradition upon you.
Perhaps what you need is a sense of tradition. Maybe that will stop the fiery defiance you display, both in public and at home.
“We’re home.” Steve’s voice booms loudly in the car, and you stir from your position, your eyes fluttering open at him.
“Good. I’m tired,” you sigh heavily, forcing yourself out of the car quickly before Steve could come around and open your door for you. “Today’s been exhausting.”
“How so?” Steve almost sneers, grabbing your bag from the car and slamming the driver’s side door shut loudly. “All you do all day is make appointments for me and flirt with other men. It can’t be that difficult.”
You groan, waiting for Steve to unlock the front door before following him into your home. “I don’t flirt with other men, Steve. Stop being so delusional."
You drawl his name out with such annoyance it makes Steve’s jaw twitch. “Really? So you weren't all over that rookie earlier today?” He turns away in annoyance, flicking the light to the living area on. The house keys sway in his fingers, and he chuckles dryly, “give me a break, sweetheart. You were practically begging him to fuck you.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose, sighing exasperatedly. “So what if I was begging him to fuck me, Steve?" Your hands fall to your stomach, holding it protectively whilst staring at him with furrowed brows.
Holding something he made.
He stills. “Excuse me?”
The calmness in Steve’s tone makes your blood run cold. You try to ignore how he stops still in the archway of the living area; how his large frame tenses and his fists clench. You suddenly feel as though all the air has been sucked out of the room, and you stumble out (in one last act of pitiful defiance), “so what if I was begging him to fuck me, Steve?“
The drawl of his name is what finally makes him snap. It’s like he sees red - like he can’t believe how you’re actually treating him, despite everything that he’s done for you. Steve’s palm is quickly splayed across your throat, and he growls, sounding similar to that of a wild animal as he begins to try and force you to your knees.
It's not like you don't go down without a fight. You try to resist, somewhat, anyway, but you can’t, because he is so, so much stronger than you are and it’s fucking scary. His hands are so strong that they diminish any force of fight you had within you, as trying to resist him makes you actually feel like your shoulders are going to snap. You whimper pathetically as you kneel before him, staring up at his pupils, which are blown and blackened.
You know better than to irritate him by now, so why do you keep doing it?
“You’re mine,” Steve snaps, his blue eyes icy as he pulls his zipper down. The sharp noise makes you flinch beneath him, trying to shuffle away, but the grip he has on the nape of your neck is tight and holds you in place. “You must be fucking crazy if you think I’d ever let another man touch you. If you think I’ll ever let another man look at you again without consequence.”
His fingers grab at your jaw, forcing your mouth open and you cry out. Steve is visibly angry - furious is perhaps a better word, given the fact he’s practically shaking as grips your face whilst also aggressively pulling his thick, hard cock out of his boxers. “You’re going to have to learn how to put that mouth of yours to better use, doll. It's wasted on those shitty opinions of yours, anyway."
Hands roughly grabbing at your hair, pulling your face towards his cock, you have not much choice but to take him in your mouth. It’s intrusive - terribly so, and Steve manhandles you so roughly it makes your tears prick with tears, but it shamefully sends a throbbing to your pussy. You clench your legs together as you take him, choking as he slides in and out of your mouth until you’re a blubbering mess below him, spit and tears painting your cheeks as he fucks your throat relentlessly.
“Who do you belong to?” He grunts out, pulling so hard at your hair your head pulses. Steve’s hips stutter as you choke around him, your eyes doe-like and wide, covered in wet mascara. “Who the fuck do you belong to?”
“Y-you, Steve,” you choke out as he pulls out of your mouth with an uncomfortable POP!, relishing in the breaths he’s allowing you. “I belong to you.”
Steve's cock is so big it's actually painful. Your throat constricts around his cock as he forces your head down again, grumbling out, “I bet that rookie couldn’t treat you like this. I bet he couldn’t fuck you full of his babies like I have, doll.”
You whine beneath him as he continues to use your throat. Steve is driven entirely by his own pleasure, tiring quickly of your pathetic crying around his cock. With angry thrusts of his hips, Steve watched you gag around him, his cock twitching in your throat as you take all of him in; every inch, and his length is actually somewhat visible in your neck. And it’s driving him crazy- so crazy that he can’t hold back anymore, his rough hands grasping at your hair as he finishes, painting your tongue with his cum.
Steve watches as you choke and thrash against him in an attempt to get away, because his cock and his cum is stuffing your mouth in ways it’s never been stuffed before. It’s suffocating you, and blackness pricks at the corner of your vision - you’re just about to pass out before you Steve mercifully pulls his cock out of your mouth with a disgusting squelch and delivers you a hard slap.
The stinging from his hand sends a sheepish insatiable throbbing to your core that you know will never be satisfied. The tingle which tickles your core makes you clench your thighs, knowing no matter how hard you repent, tonight he will not forgive you.
“This throat is mine to use,” he seethes, his tip still leaking as he presses his cock against your cheek, satisfied with the discomfort that flutters throughout your features. “Say it.”
“This throat is yours to use,” your bottom lip quivers, your eyes spilling tears, some of which fall on Steve’s cock. And it’s shameful how wet you are - how the heat between your legs has grown uncomfortable and how you’re certain your pussy is slick with arousal because somehow it’s all you can focus on. You melt into a weeping puddle, your hands tiny compared to Steve’s cock, desperately trying to push his length away during your tantrum.
It doesn’t work. If anything, it makes him much so much harder - his cock throbs against the skin of your face, and you sniffle as he speaks. “Good girl,” Steve’s praises, his fingers curling in your hair, watching as your eyebrows contort in pain as he tugs gentler than you deserve. “Look at your pretty little face. Covered all over with cum and tears.” He coos, smoothing your hair down gently, a soft pang of love throbbing within his heart.
Your face flushes red, and you blink up, your wet, long lashes batting up at him ridiculously. “I’m sorry,” you murmur, your throat incredibly sore from his invasion, your hands desperately clasping at his thighs, and he watches you in amusement, unable to bite back the excitement as you brush your lips over his length meekly. “Please forgive me, Steve, I’m sorry.”
“I don’t know if I can, honey,” he tells you, his big hands making gentle, loving motions in your hair. It’s a sharp contrast to the aggressiveness of his touch moments beforehand, but you bask in it nonetheless. “You were flirting with that rookie, baby, you said you wanted to fuck him. How am I supposed to forgive you for that?”
“I didn’t say I wanted to fuck him!” you whine, and Steve shakes his head.
“That’s what I heard, baby.”
You sniffle, and Steve shakes his head. Why do you have to lie to him? He doesn’t like making you upset - he certainly doesn’t like hurting you. His pretty girl, sitting in front of him with raw, red knees and an even rawer throat, whose ass is yet to be spanked until the pain renders you unable to move. He hates it, and he wishes this pain on nobody, especially not his little girl. Steve is meant to protect you, not hurt you. He’s your saviour, the one man in your life you can rely on and trust with all of your secrets, and yet you lie to him, again and again and again.
Steve hates making you upset, but he loves watching you cry. Conflict tugs at him from the inside, his thumb making gentle strokes in your hair as you speak to him. “I’m sorry, I really am,” you finally say, sinking beneath him obediently. “I didn’t mean any of it. It’s - its probably just the hormones.”
Steve hums in agreement. “It probably is, doll, but just in case it isn’t…I’m going to have to teach you a lesson.” He sucks in a breath, muttering, “let’s see how sorry you really are, doll.”
It takes everything in Steve not to finish all over again when he pulls you atop of him and you gasp in shock, his big hands forcing your hips down, and before you’re even aware of it, your walls are sheathed around his cock. Tight - so tight, and wet, too: ridiculously so. Shameful squelching sounds flood the living room as Steve fucks up into you with long, even thrusts.
The mewls that escape your throat as your small fingers dig into Steve's frame makes him want to impregnate you al over again. If he could, he would - your pussy is addicting, gripping him just right. You’re like Goldilocks. Your walls are so tight that you're practically milking his cock for his cum -, and he bites your neck slightly as you shake and tremble against him, your first orgasm crashing over you like a wave. Hot flashes come over you as your core tightens, the coil inside of you snapping- your little legs shake and you hold onto Steve for support, who rides you through your orgasm.
“This pussy is mine,” he practically growls, his fingers clawing around your throat, palm splayed against it uncomfortably. You thrash wildly when he squeezes, but Steve doesn’t care: you don’t deserve him, not at all, not one bit - he is Captain America! He can do what he wants!
“This pussy is yours,” you rasp as his cock nestles against the spongy spot inside of your pussy, your hips desperately rolling to get any source of friction. “Please, Steve! It’s all yours! Wanna cum again! Wanna cum!”
As you cry desperately, your frame pressing up against his, Steve grins, thrusting up into you painfully slow. The motion is enough, though. It sends sparks of pleasure shooting up your spine, and your coil tightens - it grows tighter every single time he moves, the brush of his cock against the insanely sensitive spot inside of you making your legs quiver.
“You love it. I know you love it, sweetheart. Being filled with my baby. It makes you real wet, doesn’t it, doll?" His voice is gentle, and he peppers soft kisses against your neck, eradicating the pain he had left behind earlier.
"Mhm. I love it and I love you, Steve," you agree eagerly, your hands digging into his shoulders, your timid body taking every slow, dragged thrust of his. “I’m so close.”
Your whimpers make his cock twitch inside of you. You sound heavenly - angelic, the gentle moans that slip past your lips making him wish he could just give you his baby all over again. And he will, after you’ve had this one - god, he can’t wait to pump you full of his babies again and again and again. Steve's hands grip your hips gently, his eyes fluttering shut as your velvety walls squeeze him again, so soft and perfect, and he lets out a hearty moan which makes the knot inside of you tighten.
"I want it," you whimper, your nose brushing against his, and you gaze up at him through wet lashes. “Please.”
Your begging makes Steve bloom with pride, and at your words, he thrusts up into you harder. It's not long before you're bouncing quickly atop him, mewls and cries of pleasure slipping past your lips. Your curls fall messily in front of your eyes, and he sucks in a breath at the ecstatic state of you: you’re desperate - so close to your edge, again. Your cheeks are warm and messy, and the sounds of slick bouncing off of the living room walls makes you feel more cockdrunk than you already are.
And then you begin to come undone atop of him.
He does, too. Steve loves it. Your velvet walls squeeze him so tightly that you’re milking him - you take in every drop of his cum, and as his hips still inside of you, Steve places gentle kisses against your nose.
Your big, beautiful eyes stare back at him, your hips juddering against his. You pant, your nails digging into his chest as you steady yourself atop of him. For a second, you can’t believe it - you really let Steve use you again.
But he loves you. And then conflict tugs at you all over again, because he is a good guy, incredibly so! He’s Captain America, his job is literally to protect you - and hasn’t he done exactly that? You’re the most protected person in America right now, considering the fact you’re pumped full of his babies.
“Do you trust me, sweetheart?”
You nod. “I- I do, Steve.” Your voice trembles, leaning your body weight against his, unable to hold yourself up.
“Good girl.” He brushes his nose against yours, smiling as you tremble against him. “That’s all you’ll ever have to do.”
As Steve carries you to bed, tucking you in tightly, he smiles down at you. He’s glad he’s finally changed the locks, and he’s glad that you don’t have one of the new keys.
He can keep you here now until he thinks you’re ready to go. Until you’re ready to accept your place as Mrs. America.
What you used to call kidnapping, Steve called assimilation.
You’re not locked in his house, unable to go home, unable to contact any family or friends. No, you’re just in an educational program, learning how to be a perfect housewife. That’s what Steve says, anyway, snickering away to himself as he does.
It’s lonely, and it’s scary. Yet you have nothing to fear, especially when Steve comes home. He wraps you in his arms, engulfing you in his scent, pressing you against his brawny body as though you’re his world. You breathe him in, clutching at him desperately, thankful that he’s coming home safe and sound.
It’s been so long the thought of escaping no longer even brushes your thoughts, but still, Steve wonders if you have realised your place. He can’t risk letting you out if you haven’t - but then again, who would believe you? A pregnant woman whose husband represents all of the stars and stripes?
Still, he can’t help but worry about you. Have you assimilated? Have you learnt? It’s a question that Steve isn’t sure of the answer, but as you curl into his big frame, he believes that you have. Perhaps you’ve finally learnt it’s easier to comply with the Captain’s orders than to defy them.
“How has your day been, Steve?” you ask, nudging your head into the corner of his neck as he presses his palms against your stomach. He’s big and warm, comforting and strong, peppering gentle kisses against your face, praising you for being such a gorgeous girl.
You’re bulging now. Practically ready to give birth at any second. It sends a gentle ache to Steve’s length, his lips pressing lovingly against your stomach. He loves coming home to you. He always has, even when you defied him and cried and begged him to just treat you like a colleague again. It’s selfish - Steve knows it’s selfish - but he just couldn’t ever go back to not knowing you. Now that he has you, he can’t let you go. Ever.
“Work was fine. Buck and I had to do introduction training with some rookies. They didn’t even leave a scratch.” Steve laughs, hooking his fingers in your sweatpants, tugging them down slightly so your entire stomach is on display. “How was your day, mama? Productive?”
It is slightly distracting as Steve kisses your belly. You scrunch your eyebrows in concentration, your fingers resting in his blond locks. “I painted some of the nursery.” You say shyly, face flushing as he begins to murmur sweet nothings to your stomach. “Just did the trims. There was a few deliveries that came, too, but they were too heavy for me to move. Didn’t wanna hurt myself.”
“Good girl.” Steve’s breath fans against your stomach, his head nestling against you, his hands tugging your sweatpants down some more. “I’ll move them after dinner, get ‘em all sorted,” he tells you, eyes eagerly trained in on your panties as your sweatpants drop to the floor.
It takes everything in him not to let an audible groan crawl out of his mouth. The panties you’re wearing are lacy and baby pink - similar to the ones you wore the first time he fucked you, and it sends another terrible ache to his cock. You squeal as Steve presses a soft kiss to your clothed pussy, and he can hear how quickly your heart begins to race in your chest.
“Steve - Steve, stop, I have a question. Steve, it’s serious!” He stops, looking up at you with his big blue eyes which glisten with mischief. You almost don’t want to ask because he seems so giddy - but then you have caught him in a good mood, so you’ll risk it anyway. Your heart tightens in your chest, and your lips set into a frown when you ask, “I was wondering - uh, when I have our baby - could I - could I go back to work?”
Steve reacts like you’ve just slapped him across the face. His smile drops, and his eyebrows furrow. Just when he thinks you've learned, when he thinks he’s finally flushed you out of this ridiculous twenty-first-century feminist bullshit, it drags you back in.
A woman’s place is not at work. It’s in the home.
"Why do you need to work when you have me?" Steve's voice is eerily calm, and his stubble brushes against your inner thigh. You still against him, tense as your fingers stop in his hair, and he can hear your heart gently racing in your chest.
"It's - it's just something I'd like to do. To keep myself occupied."
Steve groans, rubbing his nose into your skin. "You will be occupied, doll. You'll have a baby to raise."
You gnaw at your lip. Steve’s eyes are intense, and he tries not to bark out an order for you to stop. gnawing on your lips. He despises it when you do that. “We could always get a babysitter so I could go back to work,” you suggest, voice faltering when you notice his eyes darken slightly.
"No. It is your job as a mother to look after our children, sweetheart.” He shakes his head. “Besides, I don’t trust anybody else to raise them.”
"Steve-"
"I don't want to talk about this anymore." Steve grunts from below you, his blue eyes darkening as he gazes up at you. "In fact, I don't want this mentioned again - ever - do I make myself clear?"
“Steve-“
“Do I make myself clear?”
You pout, nodding silently, and Steve lets out an exasperated sigh. His cool breath fans against your thigh, and his thumb doesn’t stop brushing your stomach. He wonders where he ever went wrong with you. You’ve been so good recently, and he ponders on why you have to ruin it. Steve thinks you do it on purpose, rile him up as a way to show one last act of fiery defiance.
He’ll be the bigger person today.
“I can work for us. I can provide for us. Your job as my personal assistant is irrelevant now that you’re carrying our baby.” Steve peppers another gentle kiss against your clothed pussy, and you shudder, your eyes fluttering shut slightly as his fingers hook around the waistband of your underwear, gently beginning pulling them down. “You’ll have everything you’ve ever wanted. Everything you’ve ever needed. Put your faith in me, doll, that’s all I ask.”
“Okay, Steve.” Your throat feels tight when you swallow, your knees buckling slightly as Steve’s tongue licks a stripe up your pussy. It sends you by surprise - a hot white flash shoots up through your spine as you tighten your grip in his hair.
“You're soaking, doll,” he murmurs as he parts your thighs with his hands, pressing gentle kisses against your heat. It does feel good - Steve's entire focus is you, and he gently rolls his tongue against your nub, circling his tongue from your clit to your hole and then back up to your clit. "Do you just love the thought of having my babies and taking care of them, baby? Does it get you as riled up as it does me?”
It's embarrassing that Steve's words make your pussy throb. It's even more embarrassing that he knows, a satisfied smirk painting his lips as he dips his tongue into your sweet nectar again. His tongue darts around your clit, and your knees wobble slightly at the action, your hands gripping onto him for support. "Roll against my face, baby, it's okay. I know you want to." His words of encouragement make you mewl, and you do just that - roll your hips against his face, your vision going starry as his tongue swirls against your clit perfectly, the stimulation making the knot in your stomach tighten.
"Steve," you whimper out, your eyes fluttering shut as your legs wobble, his large hands coming up to hold them in place. The feeling of his fingers darting across your thighs sends butterflies to your stomach, and you whine as his tongue keeps flicking against you, making sure to hit every angle of yours he knows that you like.
You hate how much he knows you. You hate how he knows that you're about to cum as your legs give way. Steve hums, the vibrations sending shocks to your pussy, your fingers curling in his hair, the grip tight. You see stars, and hot flashes shoot through you - the knot inside of you tightens and tightens until you feel it snap, to which you cry out, flooding Steve's face with your wetness. And he loves it - he fucking loves it, soothing praises escaping his lips as he quite literally licks your clean, his fingers rubbing soft circles on your thighs.
It's terrible how much you ache when he pulls away from you, how much you miss the feeling of his hot breath fanning against your pussy. Steve stands, his head nestling in your neck, his hands rubbing smooth circles against your stomach. You pant against him, still coming down from your high when you hear a timer ding in the distance of your kitchen.
"Dinner's ready," you murmur, looking up at Steve, flushing as his deep blue eyes stare down at you.
"Dessert before dinner. Not my usual go-to," he comments, to which you laugh.
When he enters the kitchen, the table is already set. You both eat with no mention of your old job - it’s like all defiance within you has melted away, opting to believe that Steve is right. Opting to believe that Steve will do right by you.
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bigtreefest · 6 days
Text
Kill For Me Masterlist
A Future Lloyd Hansen x Dark! Reader, Former Steve Rogers x Dark! Reader Series
Main Masterlist
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Series Summary: You and Steve are nothing alike. Do opposites really attract, or do birds of a feather flock together?
Coming Soon
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My Problematic Girl - Chapter 4
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Character: College!Steve Rogers x Rich!Female Reader
Prologue:  Steve has lived being nobody in this prestigious university. He just wants to graduate and get a job to get more money to pay the bills for his mother's surgery. 
But his life turned upside when a new student attended his class. His quiet and dull life became dangerous and full of surprises.
×××
She exhaled the cigarette smoke from her lips. She still doesn’t care even though he told her he has asthma. 
She looked at Steve and said, “Bark for me.”
Steve felt humiliated, and his pride was crushed. But she held his life and secrets. He had to bury his dignity to the ground, and he murmured, 
“Woof.”
******
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Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5 , Chapter 6, Chapter 7 ,Chapter 8 , Chapter 9,-
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His body felt weak, and he dropped himself to the floor. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, dreaming he could run away. 
He punched the floor and screamed, "No! I won't do it."
"Don't be that innocent, Steve. Art is always related to money laundry."
Y/N exhaled another smoke. "I knew a drug cartel who hung two Picasso's in his bathroom."
'Oh God, she knows a drug cartel now.' Steve's hand ran down his face. 
"You need the money, Steve. Drawing hentai comics and the salary of a part-time waitress and cashier is not enough to pay for your mother's surgery."
"And your father's debts."
How did she know that? That's the painful past he always pretends never happened. They have to move several times to avoid the debt collector.
He lifted his head to look up at her. "You do a background check on me?" 
Then it hit him. "You choose me because I'm poor!!!"
She didn't deny it, and it seems like she admits it. 
Y/N know Steve is a man with a strong sense of pride. 
That's why she wanted to break him. He became easy prey because he didn't have any money. 
"Steve, I'm offering you a shortcut to get quick money."
"Or do you want to build a startup that could give you more debt or join a Ponzi scheme like your father?"
Steve gritted his teeth. "You're evil."
Y/N let out laughter wounded like a warning from a beast. "Not just evil but also greedy. I learned this the hard way to survive."
'Survive? What does she mean by that?'
She offered her hand to him. "If you doubt me, I have written a contract for this. In that contract, you get all the benefits. If you have disadvantages, you can sue me."
He clenched his fist. What does she want from him? Please make her stop. It felt like he was stuck in a shipping ship. 
"You need this, Steve. Aren't you tired of being humiliated because you have no money?" 
Steve saw Y/N with two horns, bat wings, and a tail. She offered him a dangerous deal. 
But deep down, even though he knew this was wrong, he needed that money. 
He's tired of drawing that comic, different part-time jobs, and hiding from debt collectors; he wants to move out of that ugly apartment and needs money for his mother's surgery. 
He threw away his morals. 'Forgive me, Mother, this son of yours will be a partner in crime.'
He grabbed her hand, and she helped him to stand up. He doesn't speak, but it's a silent yes.
Y/N smiled, "That wasn't difficult right?"
She dragged his hand, but Steve's body wouldn't move. "Where are we going?"
"Just get into the car."
He let her drag his hand; when he finally got inside the car and put on his seat belt, he asked, "Now we're inside; where are we going?"
"Saint Barbara Hospital."
Steve almost jolted his eyes. "This is low Y/N !!! You're going to use my mom to blackmail me?"
This is also the first he screamed at her. That place is where his mother got admitted. 
Y/N gasped, "Wow, I will never use that method."
He scoffed, "Yeah, right."
She stirred the wheel and started to drive. "You are free to hate me. But I'm the only solution you got. Besides, I'm visiting someone too."
Steve remembered something, and it made him wonder. "Before you said, evil and greed are needed to survive. What do you mean by that?"
There's no answer. Steve saw Y/N's right hand tremble; she had to put her left hand to calm it down. Then she immediately turned on the car autopilot. 
She lowered her head while massaging her hand. 
"I learned it the hard way; being kind is useless. That's why I'm intrigued by you."
Steve pointed to himself. "Me?"
"You aren't offended when your classmates mock you; you weren't greedy when I gave you the deposit money for the drawing. And I liked how you looked at me for the first time."
She was silent for a second, then said "You despised me."
"..."
Steve rubbed his forehead; he is dealing with a crazy person. "You're crazy."
She laughed and said, "I know."
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When the car arrived, the hospital security opened the car, and she handed him the key. 
Steve always gets here by bus but never sees a valet service. 
"I didn't know this hospital offered a valet service."
"They don't."
Both of them walked together into the lift. Y/N pressed the 2nd floor. Steve always came to this hospital; he knew that floor was for physiotherapy. 
Without looking at him, she said, "I'm going this way without looking at him. See you tomorrow."
Steve finally could breathe when she left. When the lift door slide opened, he went straight to a patient room where his mother stayed. 
There he saw his mother already in the wheelchair. 
She smiled at him because she knew his son would come. "Let's go outside. The weather is nice." 
Steve couldn't say no to this fantastic woman. Sarah Rogers. She has sacrificed so much, and he is always grateful for having a strong mother like her. 
But her kidney got worse. Because his father failed at business, he ran away and left the debt to Steve and Sarah. One day his mother had to sell her kidney so they could survive. 
Steve still felt guilty until this day. But she never blames anyone, even her husband, and keeps smiling.
Steve brought her to the hospital park. On the way to the park, Sarah greeted everyone. She stayed in the hospital for so long that made her know everyone.
When he found a perfect spot to sit, Sarah pointed at someone.
"Oh, that's Lilly."
Steve looked in the direction she pointed. An older woman in a wheelchair and being pushed by…
Y/N??? 
"Mom, you know her?"
"Lilly, of course. She used to be our neighbour. She's a piano teacher."
"And the person who is behind her?"
"Ooh, you mean Y/N? She's a nice kid."
'Nice? She's far from that.' Steve wants to tell his mother the truth. 
"She used to live around our neighbourhood too. But she moved after her father remarried"
Steve raises his eyebrows. Y/N used to live near their apartment. She didn't grow up in an elite neighbourhood?
"Y/n is Lilly's only student who keeps coming to check on her. And she paid for her surgery."
"Student?"
"Lilly told me Y/N is a prodigy, but she stopped playing the piano after an accident."
Sarah sighed. "That poor girl, Lilly, always in tears when she mentioned it. Y/N's fingers got hurt because of the accident, and she can't play the piano anymore."
Steve remembered Y/N were shaking. 
Did something happen in her childhood? Trauma?
He doesn't know he starts to sympathise with Y/N. He shook his head. It's not just her who went through a hard life. 
Even if she has trauma, at least she has money. 
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After he visited his mother, Steve went home and started painting. If he could complete his work, he could end the deal with Y/N immediately. 
'Bzzt.'
Hmm? Another call from Bucky. Steve answered the phone. 
"Hello?"
"Uhm, the girl you mentioned yesterday reminded me of a famous kid from my university."
Steve sighed and said, "Y/N L/N." That name reminded him of tobacco since she smoked a lot. 
"Ahh, that's her name !! She is admitted into your faculty?"
"Yeah."
"That's unrelated to her law degree."
So she's graduated. "Then what is she doing in Stark?"
"Uhm, I heard a rumour from my team. It was hot gossip."
"What is it?"
"Y/N, after she graduated and joined her father's law firm, she exposed the Imperial University admission scandal."
Steve gasped when he heard that info. He heard about that scandal, but the news stopped talking about it.  
"You know what's crazy? Her step-grandfather is the biggest donor of this campus."
How did Bucky know that? 
"I think she went to Stark to make her stay out of trouble."
'That's why she said this is her punishment.'
"Did she make trouble there?" 
"Always. We called her Mad Dog. Some people don't agree with her method, but she defends weak students."
That's hard to believe. Wait, she defends him from Luke. He saw her as a good person before she turned into a crime lord. 
"I think she got kicked out from the family because she almost tarnished her father's law firm."
"And her sugar daddy Tonny helped her."
"What?!! No!!! That's disgusting. Tony is her godfather."
"How did you know?" 
"When she graduated, her father didn't come, and Tony replaced him. Tony was so proud of her perfect GPA and told everyone that he's Y/N godfather."
"What is her father's name?"
"Brian Solomon."
'Brian. That name sounds familiar.'
"Why does she have a different last name?"
"Her father took his wife's name after he got remarried. If you go here, you will know everything about her. Her family is basically like a royal family. "
'Crash'. 
"Steve, what's wrong?"
"My hand slipped. I break the glass. Sorry Bucky, I'll hang up."
Steve put down his phone and picks up the shattered glass. 
L/N.
Lawyer Brian L/N. Steve remembered that name. 
That person is the lawyer who defends the people who introduce the Ponzi Scheme to a bunch of people like Steve's father. 
The victim who invested their money lost everything. While the mastermind didn't get punished. 
"Uurgh." This info triggered his asthma. Steve took his inhaler to breathe.
What kind of crazy coincidence is this? 
Y/N is Brian L/N's daughter.
Like father and daughter, both of them are evil and greedy. 
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Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5 , Chapter 6, Chapter 7 , Chapter 8, Chapter 9,-
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Drawn Together Masterlist
Summary: You get a tattoo on an impulse to break your routine, but you walk away with something else as permanent as the ink.
Status: In Progress
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
Part 10
Part 11
Part 12
Part 13
Part 14
Part 15
Part 16
Part 17
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binkszamsstuff · 1 year
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Red
Very dark Steve! Mob Steve! Non con! Reader and Steve have a child. Angst!! Lots of grammar and spelling mistakes I’ll edit in the morning or never who knows🤷🏻‍♀️❤️
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Red. the pain, the hurt, the passion, the love, everything was red. He was toxic, he was the obsessive. And you were his feen, his drug, his obsession , his love. But the days blurred, the lines no longer were standing, they had fallen. The fights, the late nights, the guessing and questions that went unanswered by him. It was a house on fire, it was red.
There was no time in the day to plan, with his anger, and yours. It was spontaneous, the fight had started because of steves affairs. The lying, the cheating, he ruined you, tore down all walls, made you just as obsessed with him as he was with you. Just to leave you in the dust, to cheat. To add gasoline to the fire that was you, or what was left of you anyhow.
Peggy was a glossy, classy woman with the perfect bubble of power and wittiness. She was everything you weren’t. You were messy, hazed with trouble, a woman gone mad by a man who drove her there. You were his frankenstein, you were old pieces of yourself glued back together again. The young, innocent, naive, funny, charming, and free girl was now chained to the scars he left.
You ran out of the house in the early morning, he came home late yet again. You had stayed up waiting for him, going to confront him in his act. Thats exactly what you did, but the end was not what you pictured. You hopped that he would hold you, say you were wrong, make love to you like in the beginning.
“Are you cheating on me?’ you asked quietly, you sat on the bed. You couldnt took at him.
“I dont want to have this conversation with you, it’ll only hurt you” steve spoke. That was all the answers you needed. You started to yell, scream, through insult after insult.
“I knew it! You’re scerwing peggy! Huh you’re fucking your secretary!” you yelled in his face crying. He rolled his eyes at you and shoved you to the side going to the bathroom to get ready for bed.
“Im tried of this steve” you sobbed walking to the closet grabbing any bag in sight packing up everything.
Once steve heard you say that so defeated he knew that you were serious about leaving him. You and him had lots a fights because of his actions but everytime he kissed it better. He drew back in promising his love and that it will never happen again. But it always does. Steve now had his suite jacket off, his selves rolled up, strands of his hair in hs face,
“You’re not leaving me” he stated
“Watch me” you said back in anger, masking the sadness.
“y/n i own you, you’re mine! You cant leave me baby” he said getting angry.
“You cheated steve! Again. I-i cant do this i cant sit here and wait for you to love me again. We are not the people we were when we first started dating. I cant and wont be the drunk housewife waiting for her husband whose never gonna come back because his mistress.” you were out of breath from crying and talking so fast while packing.
Steve stepped closer “baby come on its me! Its us! We always get through stuff like this!” he tried to manipulate you with his soft words but this time it wouldn’t work. the naive girl you used died, not even a ghost left of her
“We wouldnt have to “get through this stuff” if you didnt cheat and fuck other women.” you held up air qoutes while talking.
“I love you” steve pulled you in near, kissing the top of your head. You sobbed in his chest, hurt, angry, betrayed. The three year relationship was now smoke, the fire was all burnt out. The engagement ring heavy on your finger, it was a line of whispered lies and i love yous.
Steve drew you to the bed, kissing his way up your neck. His hands sliding down your frame gripping your hips. His false hope whispered in your ear and apologies that didnt have any meaning stuck to you, like a cigarette burn. He took off your clothes and gently laid you on the bed. ‘When was the last time he was gentle with me?’ you thought to yourself as he kissed and licked at you lower lips.
“Say something baby, tell me you wont leave me, that you love me” he begged like he was the victim. You stayed silent, numb.
“prettybaby i love you. Say it back! I need you! I cant live with out you!” both of you now naked on the bed. he pushed himself into your entrance, all you could do was cry.
Steve begged and whined for you back but little did he know the car was running outside waiting to escape him and this burning house.
Steve fell asleep hugging you, his head resting on your tummy his arm wrapped around you. You ran your fingers through his hair, soaking up what was left of the man you used to know, he was burned alive, gone. You slowly pushed him off of you and got dressed, grabbing the bags on clothes and bathroom care you walked out. You looked around the house as you left, the nicknacs and photos of you and steve. The nursery that sat empty. Steve promised children but then came peggy. You kissed your engagement ring and then placed it on the entry table by steves keys.
Getting in the car and speeding off in to what was left of the mess steve made of you.
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One year later-
A wail of a new born was calling out to you in the dead of the night. You never got frustrated being a single mother, reminding yourself when you caught yourself being negative that you could still be with steve. Penny was three months old and her blonde curly hair was sticking in every which way. It made you giggle.
“Hi! Mommys here its okay penny girl” you picked her up rocked her in your arms.
She might be steve daughter but you never let her know what pain she was created from, you would never let her end up like steve nor you.
“Mama loves you” you said as she closed her big eyes again just needing comfort from her mom to make her feel better. Steve didnt know that the night that the two of you had sex before you left was the cause of a beautiful little girl. He had tried to call, and text you put after smaing you phone and leaving to state of New York for Washington you knew he wouldnt find you.
You lived in a little white house with a garden in a small town tucked away from the crazy and hurt.
You sat in the rocking chair in pennys room rocking her, your tiredness was catching up to you. Just as your eyes started to close he spoke from the depths of the darkness that was the closet.
“Oh prettybaby you are such a good little mommy, just like i knew you would be” he walked closer.
You screamed. Getting up with penny in your arms backing away from him trying stumble to the door backwards,
“Get out. Steve get out! I-i cant-” you sobbed your hold on penny grew tighter.
“Baby its okay, i wont hurt you. y/n im so proud of you, look at the life you built for our little girl, now i am mad you didnt tell me you were pregnant. But baby she is gorgeous. Now i need you to decide either you come home or we can live out here. Ya know i kinda love it here. Good thinking babe this is great place to rise kids”
You sobbed harder.
“How did you find us” you asked crying, so scared.
“Oh baby dont be naive, i will always find you”
“You cant be in our life, your toxic and i wont rase my daughter in the life we used to have. She wont end up like us! You cant be here! You ruined me!’ you sobbed and hyperventilated. He slowly walked closer like approaching an injured animal
“Baby i know i know, i was wrong and mean and cruel to you. I was blind i thought you would always be there for me. I took you for granted. Shes gone y/n, i got rid of peggy, shes taking a long nap and i aint ever gonna hurt you like that again. I need you baby…..and i need to be in my daughters life. I cant live without you nor am i gonna be able to leave her all alone now too” he explained
“I wanna have a good life, nothing like the one we used to have. You scare me steve and you’ve hurt me” you said looking at little penny who had a frown on hef face, she could read the distress from her mother.
“y/n look at me!” steve grabbed your face in his hands and made you look at him. “I will make it up to you i promise. I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you baby. I cant live without you” you shock your head no
“Its okay i get it y/n we need time, but im not going anywhere” steve spoke again.
“Come on lets put penny girl back in ger crib and go to bed” steve guided you to the crib and put penny down. She was right back to being cozy and sleepy. Steve pulled you in a hug while you sobbed into his chest, he was sliding his hand over your hair while shushing you.
“Come one lets go to sleep.” steve took your hand in his and leaded you back to your room. You laid down still crying, steve undressed himself down to his boxers and then joined you. He spooned you.
“I’ve missed you so much baby” was the last thing you heard before falling into slumber because you had cried yourself to sleep in his arms.
The house was burnt but in its ashes something new rose.
Authors note; i know some people will not understand why she didnt fight more, and the reason why was because she was in shock. It been and year and he shows up and shes like oh crap he found me and our now daughter. She is really scared of him and numb. Also steve is a mob boss by the way.
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imaginedreamwrite · 1 year
Text
Brat Taming: Part 13
A/N: Smut is prevalent in the chapter, with overstimulation, vibrators, teasing and edging, domination/submission and punishments. Please don’t read it if it makes you uncomfortable
Ari had certain expectations when it came to making his office run seamlessly, as he should have, and there was an incredible amount of tenacity to his patience. He was not a man who could easily be angered by desperate attempts to get him to react unless there was a direct threat to the people he loved and wanted to protect.
It was one of his traits as an alpha that separated him from what seemed like the other 50% of alphas who seemed to make up the designation.
It seemed as if at least half of their designation had the same distinctive abilities to be good alphas without having to rely on traits that could have been deemed toxic. Ari and Steve, even Ransom if he had tried to put in more effort to not be such an arrogant prick to other people, were all good alphas at the root of themselves.
Both of the older alphas had deeply embedded protective tendencies, an ability to understand and compassionately grasp the workings of an omega’s hindbrain without reducing them to their basest selves.
Ransom was cocky, he was an arrogant and rich alpha who could have had anything or anyone handed to him on a silver platter. He was born with a silver spoon shoved up his ass and that had damaged his ability to deny the toxic traits that made omegas want to settle down with the alpha.
However like Ari & Steve believed, Ransom only had to meet the right omegas who wouldn’t immediately cater and submit to his whims, but rather they would try to push him to his limits and make him back down. It was what made you and Jake everything those alphas needed.
It was your fire and your ability and nature to be bratty that drove every one of your alphas crazy with need. Your tendency as omegas to feel comfortable enough to push back against the alphas was both embraced and revelled in.
They enjoyed their omegas brattiness, the back and forth that aided the bonds that were being built was a necessity to have an unbreakable relationship.
However patient Ari was, and however indifferent he could have been, he had found your punishment just as invigorating and addictive as your attitude was.
He was just waiting for it, just waiting for the opportunity to punish you as a good alpha would have. The alphas knew, all of them had been aware, that you and Jake were dealing with the sensations of being marked and mated.
They had been well aware that you both were settling in your bratty moods and with a common agreement between you, albeit made through your natural bond as best friends and lovers and had kickstarted the punishments that were befitting for both of you.
With you at work in the office making comments under your breath about Ari and his first assistant degrading the choice to have someone who was so aggravating without trying, had incited his decision to punish you.
Normally this patient alpha would have let you mumble every comment under the sun about his first assistant who he knew could be difficult to deal with, however today Ari couldn’t let it slide.
Whether it was his unwillingness to go through a teleconference knowing you were outside of his office wearing a skirt that was far too easy to slide up your thighs and a piece of cloth obscuring your sweet little cunt from his view, or whether it was his vivacious lust and hunger, it had all ended at the same conclusion.
Ari had stepped out of his office, pausing to listen to you muttering your annoyance at both your boss and the woman you claimed was the wicked bitch of the West.
He had watched you while leaning against the frame of his door, his arms crossed over his chest and his chin tucked as his eyes had become engrossed with thick seams of desire. It was reflective of his need for you, his dire hunger that aided him to make a demand that caused hair at the nape of your neck to stand and your eyes to grow wide.
“Y/N, my office. Now.” The command was sent from his mouth, and you were immediately aware of how rooted he was in his alpha hindbrain.
He had seen your lips part with a potential argument, a rebuttal that he wished you would’ve let fall from your lips. He wished you would have fired back with some kind of aggravated response to Ari’s demand, earning another punishment that you didn’t know was coming.
It could’ve been a demand that could have been negated, or at least an attempt could have been made, however, Ari was pleased to see you standing immediately to follow him toward his office.
“Is there anything you need of me, Mr. Levinson?” His first assistant had already started to rise to her feet, overeager to please him in any manner despite already being in a steady and comfortable relationship with her alpha.
It was after Ari had settled a hand on your back to lead you into his office, to the punishment waiting for you, that he had looked over his shoulder with a controlled half-smirk on his face.
His first assistant was not guarded with her disdain for you and your role in the office, especially since you had been sleeping with the boss and getting away with it. However, Ari was just as displeased about her attitude toward you and had already been making plans to have another reasonable offer sent her way for a new job.
“Go home, you have the rest of the afternoon off.” Ari had closed the door without allowing another potential argument and just as quickly locked the door behind him.
He stood and faced you, silence between the two of you was not stale or stagnant, it was fuelled by desire and mild confusion, knowledge of what was to come and expectations of pleasure and pain.
“I have a meeting, Y/N.” Ari’s long stride had taken him past you and around the side of the desk, his leather chair angled to the left of his computer.
“If you needed me to take notes-“
“Did I ask you to take notes?” Ari spoke over you with a bite, the force behind his words making you shudder and whimper simultaneously. “You’re going to keep me occupied.”
Ari placed a hand upon the back of the chair, steadying it as he sat down upon the cushioned bottom and then he spread his legs. His cock was strained and throbbing beneath the seams of his slacks and with a single wave of his hand, you had started to walk toward him with your hands by your sides and your eyes still unnerved.
When you were within reach, Ari grabbed your wrist and pulled you toward him and his hard-on, your palm jutted toward the bulbous head. Ari’s voice was laced heavily with need, your name falling from his lips as he made you squeeze his erection.
The intent was known and the command had been all too easily absorbed as you recoiled and lifted your skirt, your hands holding the material in order for him to hook his fingers in the band of your panties to yank them down your thighs.
“This is a punishment,” Ari addressed you with a firm tone yet no less loving than before, “you wanna be a brat? You get punished.”
He enjoyed your verbal exhilaration when he smacked your ass, his palm cracking against your flesh before his fingers dug into you. He had pulled you back toward him, keeping a hand on your ass and the other busied with freeing his thick and throbbing cock.
“You’re going to keep my cock warm while I take this teleconference. If your try and get off my cock before the meeting is finished, you’ll be under the desk sucking me off. If you cum before I say you can, you won’t cum for a week.” Ari’s hands settled on your hips and he arranged you between his legs, giving you no room to protest as he lowered you to his cock, your puffy pussy lips already wet.
The head of his cock had started to part your labia, the seeping precum mixing with your desire, and his name all too easily fell from your lips when he made you take all of him into your tight cunt. When he had settled you in your place, Ari leaned forward and pressed a kiss against the nape of your neck, almost entirely too soft and contradictory to his demanding dominance.
“You have your warning, brat.” Ari’s lips parted and he nipped your flesh as a warning. “I would love any reasons to punish you further, let’s see if you earn the right to cum or if you’ll end up with a week of denial.”
It was hard to breathe without shuddering, hard to contend with the twitch of Ari’s thick bulbous head as it plunged into your cunt.
It was hard to function and focus on taking notes while Ari was on a teleconference since you were being stretched and filled to the brim, wholly and entirely stuffed. He was ruthless, smacking your puffy and hard clit when you faltered, all entirely fuelled by his irritation with your attitude.
“Maybe next time you’ll think about being such a brat. I’m your alpha sweetheart but I’m also your boss.”
“Are you focusing?” You shuddered and whimpered, his voice husky and hoarse in your ear while his fingers deftly plucked at your hard little nub. “I almost feel sorry for you…but I know you like it.”
“J-Jake-” your voice shook, indelibly able to detect his state of being like a dull fog at the back of your mind.
“Yes, Jake is learning a hard lesson too.” Ari purred huskily in your ear and then taunt you further, starting to tap his fingers against your hard clit with every illicit breath you’d taken.
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“We’re planning on taking full advantage of our private dining room, puppy. And you are going to take your punishment with pride.”
Wine, he thought as he swallowed what was given to him, wine should’ve made him feel better and yet it was another delectable sensation intent on ruining him. A good wine that Ransom assured would be palatable with the edging Jake deserved, and he was right.
He had been overstimulated already, entirely too full and stretched with a vibrator in his tight asshole and a ring pulsing at the base of his cock, Jake was being dragged through countless rounds of edging that had only been part of his punishment.
The argument that started it all had come from Jake and focused more on Steve than Ransom. It was a few remarks about Steve’s sexuality and the urge to just jump from the edge of the cliff. Jake had pressed Steve to be bolder with himself, given that there wasn’t anything to fear about being open with how and who he loved.
And though the comments had meant to encourage Steve, it had taken a turn when Steve had embraced Jake’s open brattiness and reassured him that being bold was nothing new to Jake.
“Full, puppy?” Jake’s shiver was inductive of his tension, his cock begging for release that wasn’t granted to him by Steve or Ransom. “I think you’re enjoying yourself.”
It was pleasured and painful torture that left no bruises or marks. It was the sensation of the dildo in his ass vibrating when Steve turned it on and the fallout after it was turned off to give him a chance to calm down. Between the remote in Steve’s control, the remote in Ransom’s control and what he could detect from you, Jake was truly going to lose his mind.
“He can handle it, he’s a big boy.” Steve was almost erotically sadistic when he leaned toward Jake to cup his cheek and turn his head. “You can handle it, right Jake?”
His lips met Steve’s and he tried to chase the feeling, only to fall short and whine in desperation when Steve pulled away.
The super soldier had let go of Jake’s chin and patted his cheek twice, and then he leaned back against his chair and raised a hand to signal the waiter. With striking confidence that made Jake believes he had been playing the entire time, Steve had brazenly raised the remote in his other hand and pressed the button twice.
The shock of the faux cock in his ass had earned another husky groan that fell too easily from Jake’s lips, and the sudden jerk of his hips to seek some kind of pleasurable release from the toys that he was being teased with.
“If you cum, you’re going to pay for it.” Ransom’s warning was whispered as a seductive command in his ear, the deterrent coming with another level of erotic intimacy as the alpha command had settled in his hindbrain.
Thick fingers slipped beneath the table, a hand sliding up a covered thigh while he was truly and well on his way to losing his mind. Trapped under electrifying gazes that burned through him, it wasn’t just one but two that had given him no reprieve from the building tension and cathartic need to reach his end. This was a punishment for his decision to push both of them to their limits, though it wasn’t conventional in any sense.
When Jake had been under the impression that he was going to be punished, he’d thought it would involve Shibari or some restraints to keep him still. He’d never anticipated his ass being stuffed full of a vibrating cock while his shaft and balls were being stimulated by the same torturous quivers.
It was clear that Jake and yourself were being manhandled by your alphas to be punished, he could feel your pleasured pain through the bonds that you and Jake had formed from childhood, and he knew that he wasn’t alone.
“You’ve barely touched your food.” Teasing words that rolled off a silver tongue paired with fingers that slipped further up his thigh before ultimately squeezing the thick throbbing hard-on trapped beneath Italian slacks. “You should eat something.”
“Something wrong, pup?” Steve crooned, raising his fork to his lips to enjoy the seared steak he had been craving. “Not hungry?”
“Ohhh fuck…” Jake’s head lolled back, his eyes screwing closed as vibrations coursed in his ass, the vibrator used to drive him toward a slow orgasm was maddening. “P-please-!”
“I think we need dessert,” Ransom leaned in close to Jake, his tongue lapping at sweat-laden flesh while his hand closed around Jake’s clothed cock. “You’re going to have to wait longer to cum, brat.”
“I’m going to lose my fucking mind.” Jake hissed, his eyes straining to open and his teeth gritting as he cursed with the tension that was rattling him. “Please, fuck-!”
He jerked his hips and dug his nails into the tablecloth with almost enough tension to tear the fabric clean. Jake had ground his teeth with every pulse that rocked his nervous system and drove his mind closer to temporary insanity.
There was no denying their domineering status as alphas, and Jake would later swear on his life that he loved being their little subby omega but at the moment he was fighting for his life.
“If you want to cum,” Ransom let go of his trapped erection and deftly unzipped Jake’s fly, his hand slipping in the opening to grasp his cock under the table, “you have to beg for it.”
The sound that fell from Jake’s lips was garbled and twisted, it wasn’t coherent in any manner but yet it still made his alphas starkly proud of the omega who had resisted until this moment.
He hadn’t been mentally aware of what he was saying, he was letting his tongue work on its own and had only recognized the permission that was given to him after Ransom had dug his teeth back into the mark on Jake’s neck.
The vibrations hadn’t ceased even as Jake had been granted the ability to chase his orgasm. His hips rocked as he threw himself back into the chair, his head lolling as their names rolled off his tongue as an erotic sonnet. It was blinding and white hot pleasure that shot through every nerve ending in his body, Jake’s mind contorted and twisted by desire and release while Ransom’s hand pumped Jake’s shaft.
And even as he started to come down from that high, pleasure was still falling upon him when he felt Ransom’s lips against Jake’s cock to clean his shaft and bulbous head.
“Thank you,” Jake’s chest was heaving with every strained breath, his body wracked with leftover trace amounts of electrifying pleasure, “that was incredible.”
His chin was grasped again, his face turned toward Steve and relief had soon been replaced by anticipation when the super soldier claimed Jake’s mouth as his.
“You’re not done yet.”
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marvelcriminalhoe · 1 year
Text
His Sinful Devotion
Older! Dark! Church guy! Steve Rogers x Innocent! Naive! Preachers daughter! Reader
Part 7 (The end)
Series masterlist
Warnings: Age gap (Reader is 20 - Steve is late 30s early 40s) , Dark, manipulation, dub con, Steve is hardcore manipulative (I’m serious), reader is hardcore innocent (I'm serious), Loss of virginity, talks of past dark acts, sexual acts on someone sleeping, P in V, Unprotected acts, Wrap it before you tap it, 18+ only.
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AN: I haven't posted in awhile. Life has been hitting hard over here in the Mav Household. I’m not going to bore you with everything thats happened, just know I appreciate your support and understanding.
Warning: This might be a bit tamer than the other parts, but that's because they’re married and it's time for the fairytale happy ending... duh ;)
AN2: This is the big sha-bang. The moment you’ve all been waiting for. But that doesn’t mean that’s the end of the story with church guy Steve— don’t want to give a lot away— but with the hidden message in the ending I have a few ideas to do some au one shots with this story using this steve and a different reader, if others want that. This story was actually only ever meant to be a one shot but I’m a whore for praise and ended up doing all this for the people. I’m a hero.
Word Count: 1,595
Everything has to be perfect. 
That’s what keeps going through Steve’s head. Everything needing to be perfect. For you. For him. 
The wedding planning didn’t take too horribly long, considering Steve had everything set up the moment he set his sights on you, but he still had to go about it in a way that seemed normal. Which wasn’t too hard to do, considering you looked to him to do everything for you anyway, just like he taught you. 
The time between getting engaged and the actual wedding day was only a month. Actually less than a month. 27 days in fact. But even then, it seemed like eternity to him. He was so close to his forbidden fruit, to stealing you away and living happily ever after with you. It just made the time seem to go by even slower. 
But now, after 27 excruciating days, Steve stares at himself in the mirror, his hair perfectly styled, tux fit to the nines, straightening out his bowtie, and he can’t help but relish in the now. He’s finally getting what he deserves. After years of thinking maybe this wasn’t meant for him, maybe he wouldn't get his story book, white picket fence, ending, he's finally here, it’s finally his turn. 
“You ready pal?” Bucky questions him from across the room, dressed similarly to Steve with the rest of his groomsmen, Sam, Tony, and Bruce.
Steve takes a breath, turns around, and smiles, “Absolutely.” 
His friends, who know how long he has waited, cheer, and Sam speaks up next, “Everything set up with the house?”
“The realtor closed today.” Steve nods, “We’ll be moved in, in New York, the second we get back from our honeymoon.” 
“That’s great man. We’ll be glad to finally have you back home.” Tony walks over and claps him on the shoulder. The rest of the men nod. All the men, outside of Bucky who is still in the beginning stages, has a woman of their own out in New York. All of them having the perfect life they deserve, and all of them happy another one of their friends is on that path as well. 
When the wedding planner comes and knocks on the door, all the waiting comes to a head. 
You're beautiful in your virgin white dress, the lace veil covering your face, as your father walks you down the aisle. Steve is even more sure you’re meant for him. Picture perfect, as if you came down from heaven just for him. The Lord molded you for him. His perfect girl. His entire devotion. 
The moment he lifts the veil and see’s your face, he’s actually certain you did come from heaven. His own personal angel. And he swears to himself then that he wont ever worship anything more than he worships you. Just like he knows you’ll only ever worship him. Just as you've been molded to do. 
The ceremony is traditional, per Steve’s request, but it’s also short and to the point. Steve’s waited long enough. 
It seems like everything after the moment you are pronounced husband and wife is a blur. You don't remember walking back down the aisle, or taking pictures. You don’t remember greeting your guests, or cutting the cake, or the first dance. Honestly you don’t remember much of the reception at all. You don’t even really remember leaving it, the send off, or the drive to the hotel. 
It’s like you don’t come back to your senses until the moment you are standing in front of the hotel suite door. Steve scoops you up in his arms, adamant on carrying you across the threshold. 
The suite is huge. Everything is marble white with gold accents. The walkway to the bedroom is covered in rose petals that lead all the way to the bed, where they make a heart. Champagne and crystal glasses lay on the table across the room, along with chocolate covered fruit. 
Steve gently sets you down in front of the bed, smiling down at you as he cups your cheeks, “My little wife.” He coos, leaning down to kiss your lips. The slow and gentleness only lasts a few seconds before Steve’s inhibitions come forward, the darkness within him that he’s only let slip in small amounts with you, seems to break through the cage completely. He’s been caged too long, held back too much, and the beast inside him finally comes forward. 
It’s as if his entire being engulfs yours, his lips feasting upon yours as his claws tear away at your dress, allowing the tattered white shreds to fall away to the floor. 
Your back hits the bed with more force than you were expecting and the small whimper that leaves you is swallowed by the monster above you. He relishes in the sounds of your trepidation, the wails of your hesitation, your pleads for him to slow, only further his desire. 
Despite your fears, he knows you are feeling the same desire as him, the wet justices coating his fingers tells him as much. His lips descend down your neck to your perked breasts as his fingers open you up for him. It doesn't matter how many times he's fingered you, you’re still so tight, squeezing his fingers with a firm grip. 
Even with the mad man inside him at the forefront, he still wants to be a good husband of you, wants to treat you right, shower you with so much love you don’t ever look for it outside of him. He want’s to give you so much pleasure. 
It’s why he curls his fingers just so, hitting the point that makes your eyes roll back and your toes curl. It’s why he keeps the pace steady, allowing you to rut against his digits as he praises you over and over, letting you get to your peak. 
“That’s it darling. Come for me. Come for your husband.” 
“Such a good girl for me.” 
“One more, give me one more.” 
He wears you out on his fingers to the point you can’t even see straight, and when you’re chest is heaving, sweat coating your body, mind fuzzy, he stands, towering over you as he discards his own clothes. 
He watches over you as he becomes just as bare as you. Watches the way your chest expands with each breath. The way you are practically glowing with the soft due on your skin. His cock is always hard for you, but right now, looking over you like this, knowing he gets to mark you as his forever, he's throbbing. 
He wastes no time climbing back on top of you, shushing you as your weak please for reprieve reaches his ears, he knows you don’t mean it, not really. The feeling of your slick coating his cock as he slowly drags himself through your lips has him growling, and he’s glad he tired you out enough on his fingers so much because he knows the last of his patience withers away.
Sinking into you is like arriving home. He’s positive he’s never felt such a euphoric rush in his life. And again, he’s glad he’s already made sure you’ve cum more than once before claiming you, because he knows he’s not going to last long.
His thrusts are animalistic, his grip on your hips tight as he makes you meet his each thrust. Skin slapping against skin. Hard, fast, and bruising. 
“My girl.” Steve moans from above you. All you can do is whimper and weakly moan, body too exhausted for anything else. “Only mine.” 
The only thing on Steve’s mind is marking you up. He’s got your entire being as his. Your mind, Your heart, and now, he want’s the one last thing he deserves. 
“Gonna cum inside you, honey.” Steve groans, hips continuing their assault on yours, “Over and over. Gonna fill you up with my seed. Mark your walls. Make you holy and completely mine.” 
The image of you dripping with his cum, the whiteness running down your leg, mixing with the sweat coating your body makes him more feral than before, and it’s enough to have his eyes roll back and his cock twitch inside you. He swears he’s never cum harder in his life. 
It’s exhilarating and blissful. Better than he imagined, and he imagined it a lot these past few months. He’s enamored by you. Completely and holy yours as you are his. His devotion is down right sinful, and he wouldn't have it any other way.
When he finally stops, he keeps himself inside you, knowing it’ll only be a few minutes before he’s ready to go again, and he peppers your face with kisses. Your body is so exhausted you’ve passed out, entirely spent, but that isn’t going to stop him from taking you again, and again, and again. Your his now and he can do as he pleases. 
Not like that’s ever really stopped him before. 
“My perfect little wife,” Steve caresses your cheeks, smiling down as he rubs his nose with yours. You’ve always been beautiful to him, but worn out on his cock, might be his favorite look yet, “We’ll be so happy together, I promise.” He vows, not for the first time today, that you both will have a happy life together. He knows you will. You’re perfect, better than the mistake he had before. You won’t do what she did. And he wont have to get rid of you like he did with her. No, this will be the happy ending he deserves. He knows it will. It has to be.
His devotions may be sinful, but what’s life without a little evil.
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