#dark mafia!steve rogers

[biteofcherry]

To find the light, we must first touch the darkness

Please also check out @bluepinkangel​’s amazing hot moodboard for this universe 🖤

dark mafia!Steve Rogers x female reader

summary: When you unexpectedly are appointed to run a health center, you foresee many struggles along the way, but not one in the form of a merciless mob boss. Steve Rogers’ core aim is to own and he won’t take no for an answer. To any of his demands.

warnings for this chapter: dark!Steve Rogers; manipulation; power imbalance; forced marriage; D/s undertones; ex-pli-cit; knife kink; choking; choking kink; praise;

word count: 7k

Touch the Darkness Masterlist

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Chapter 6. Downpour

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Victims often described the events of their traumatic experience as a blur. Or a film montage of chopped scenes, often black and white, or with one color prevailing. Sometimes their minds protected themselves so strongly they dissociated, their consciousness floating away into a safe space.

Nothing of the sort happened to you on your dreaded wedding day. 

If anything, you felt more present in the moment than in the days leading to it. 

Colors were vibrant, sounds clear, your feelings vivid. 

You felt the constriction of the built-in corset of your wedding dress, the soft swish of the embroidered, shiny tulle in the chalice of the wide skirt; as well the warm amazement at how beautiful you looked. 

Even though your spite tempted you to pick a dress that would manifest how much you didn’t want to say your vows, you couldn’t help the flaming love you experienced at the sight of yourself in a stunning wedding dress. 

A fucking princess style, out of all. 

You wanted to hate it, to cross it out purely to not give Steve the extra satisfaction, but your parents teared up when they saw you in it. Maybe they had some qualms about the speedy wedding, but they sure got on board with it when they saw your face glowing. 

You didn’t have the heart to tell them it was because you felt beautiful, not because you loved your future husband. 

Whose handsome face you couldn’t look away from as your father walked you down the aisle. 

Dressed in a sharp suit, steel gray a tone warmer than his cold heart, Steve watched you every step of your way to him. Others perhaps saw in his face awe, getting all mushy over how much he had to be in love with you, but you knew it was a glint of triumph. 

You said your vows in the wide garden surrounding Steve’s property, under an arch of lush peonies and vines. You were sure it’s only thanks to the two glasses of Prosecco and Steve’s hand holding yours a tad too tightly, that you recited your promise to him without a hitch. 

With how smooth and soft Steve’s voice was, how he held your gaze captive, you’d think he was expressing true, deep feelings when he said his vows. 

True was his possessiveness. 

Steve displayed it first in the way he kissed you - draping you over his arm, like in old Hollywood movies, and branding your lips with a breathstealing, passionate kiss. Unable to resist, your arm sneaked around his neck, fingers splaying on the back of his head, while your other hand gripped onto the lapel of his suit jacket. 

Then by keeping you occupied each dance, allowing only your father to lead you through two songs. 

To your further annoyance, Steve turned out to be a really good dancer. Or maybe he was simply good at holding you and controlling your body as he guided you across the wooden planks built into a dance floor specially for this occasion. 

“You look beautiful, Princess.” 

There was no breathtaking awe in Steve’s voice, like you used to imagine your true love would say those words one day. But it was no coy game, either. Steve meant them, it was an honest compliment. 

It was also his pride in owning you. 

“I’m already your wife, all is signed. No need for bullshit,” you stared over Steve’s shoulder, stubbornly refusing to meet his gaze and see what desires may shine in the ice cold blue irises. 

He twirled you suddenly, then pulled you back to him. Kept you pressed against him tighter as he brushed his lips along your cheek. 

“I’d think by now you know I don’t really bullshit anyone,” he whispered in your ear. “I do find you stunning. And I’ll repeat those words later, when I have you naked in our bedroom.”

Heat filled you faster than after that shot you sneaked right before soup was served, to calm your nerves and numb yourself further as the reality of being now Mrs Rogers started settling in. No, that fast dose of booze didn’t scorch your insides the way Steve’s promise of the wedding night did. 

“Not gonna happen,” you tried sounding fierce, but your voice came much breathier than you’d like. 

“We’ll see, won’t we?” Steve chuckled, tip of his tongue flicking the shell of your ear, eliciting goosebumps to appear all over your skin. 

His hand on your back was placed low, but he dipped his fingers even further, toying with the ribbon of your corset right above the curve of your ass. 

“We have a deal, after all.” He reminded you. 

You wanted to argue with him, that technically you didn’t agree to it, but you knew it’s futile. You suffered some disturbing sexual deviancy and your pussy tingled at the mere thought of Steve touching it. So you planned on simply being sneaky and wiping yourself dry before entering the bedroom. And then staying resolved and unbothered, so that Steve’s dark touch didn’t force a single drop of slick out. 

You considered stuffing your nose with something too, because the scent of Steve alone now that he was pressed to you so close, was enough to warm up your body. 

To ignore your own responses - to his smell, to his touch, to the images of wicked acts he could do to you - you focused your gaze above Steve’s shoulder. Glancing at random guests, at the stunning flower arrangements, trying not to hurt from the fact your parents looked so joyous. 

You frowned, noticing Natalie smirking around the rim of a champagne flute as she talked to a man whom you recognized as Steve’s most trusted right hand, Bucky. While flirting at a wedding wasn’t something unusual, alarm bells rang in your head at the prospect of Natalie endangering herself. She was already at risk, being associated with you, but to dance with a wolf was like playing with fire that was surely going to consume her whole. 

You didn’t know much about Bucky, practically nothing, but if he was this close to Steve then there was no trace of innocence or clear conscience in him. 

No one could stay pure, if they followed in Rogers’ murky wake. A realization which made you wonder, if your own core may rot and dissolve at his feet. 

Your heart fluttered, as Steve twirled your body again. Chalice of your dress opened, shimmering in the sunlight as if encrusted in crushed diamonds. In reality it was a faint sparkle compared to the actual bling of the diamond ring on your finger. 

You glared at it with disdain when Steve first put it on your finger, seeing nothing but a leash. A brand of ownership and reminder of torment. But the more glances you stole, the more irresistible it was to admire. 

It was truly beautiful and you hated it for it. 

Steve pulled you back to his body, pressing you even closer than before. Tip of his nose grazed along yours, the icy blue of his irises warming into the shade of pure sky. His breath tickled your mouth, mingling with yours as your lips parted on a gasp. 

Then his lips were on you. Soft and coaxing, tempting you to respond in submission. 

You told yourself it’s the surprise of it that made you give in, the spectacle you had to continue for the guests, but you couldn’t completely deny the jolt of excitement that spurred heat into every crevice of your body, then melted it into a pliant surrender. 

You were vaguely aware of the camera flashes as pictures of you were taken. The sound of cheering and clapping barely registering through the haze of your heartbeat pounding in your head. 

There was no triumphant smirk on Steve’s lips when he reluctantly pulled away, which would undoubtedly shake you out of daze. Instead, there was a dark hunger that clenched your heart in fear and your cunt in anticipation. 

You found yourself surprisingly reluctant to step out of his embrace as the song ended and Steve took the opportunity to build the lie further by asking your mother to dance.

Trying to avoid dancing with Steve wasn’t as clever a solution as you first thought, because the bastard found other ways to instigate small gestures of intimacy that confused your brain and tickled your clit like a living tongue. 

Like him smoothly commenting how delicious that seasoned rib was and how you should try it, then promptly feeding you a piece of it.

With his fingers. 

Purposely slipping his fingertip between your lips along with the meat.

It was a split of a second, but enough to have a wave of heat wash over you and your thighs clench.

You thanked heaven that you picked a princess dress, because the layers of the skirt at least hid the movement that would otherwise betray you.

A gulp of wine couldn’t wash away the sensation, nor did it wipe the lewd image of Steve forcing his fingers into your mouth. Would they be salty? Would they feel heavy as he pressed them against your tongue? Would his rings feel cool? 

Then you didn’t even have alcohol to numb yourself. Steve made sure your glass was filled with water only as the celebrations proceeded. When you glared at him, trying to yank your hand out of his grip, he said he won’t have you sloshed on your wedding night.

“Don’t want you to worry it was only the booze that got you wet,” he sucked on your earlobe. 

But made it look so sweet, the way he pressed his cheek to yours and gently held your hand, that to the others it had to look as if he was whispering love admissions into your ear. 

The bastard played supportive and soothing as he caressed your back when you were saying goodbye to the guests leaving the reception late in the evening. Your mom took your teary eyes as an overwhelming, but positive emotion that made her all mushy as well. 

You couldn’t cling to her, or your dad, crying in despair that they were leaving you with a monster. Not when that monster was constantly by your side, being most respectful and charming towards them. Displaying a twisted care for you that eased your parents’ worries while irritating you. 

There were fireworks bursting in the sky in abundant splashes of color as Steve led you to the master bedroom. 

Everyone was gone, only the wedding planner’s team was rushing around like busy bees, cleaning up and packing leftovers. And they all pretended they didn’t see you. You thought some of Steve’s men were also circling around, but you didn’t know yet if it was to keep an eye on the workers, or if it was their routine to guard Steve’s mansion. 

Once inside the bedroom, you blurted out your need to use the bathroom and promptly locked yourself inside. Only for a few moments you entertained the thought of staying in and sleeping on the tiled floor, but you knew Steve wouldn’t allow that. He’d sooner take the damn door down than give you reprieve.

He wanted to wreck your body too much. 

And you feared how you may react to it. 

As you pulled up layers and layers of tulle, to use the toilet and clean yourself from the already obvious reaction to Steve’s touch; you accepted that your anxiety wasn’t for debauchery, but for the inappropriate eagerness of your body.

For fuck’s sake, you were dripping and coming on command when he defiled you with a gun!

How much stronger was your reaction going to be when he caressed you with his hands and mouth? 

After wiping yourself dry, you cleaned your hands and with your head held high stepped out into the bedroom. You still planned on fighting tooth and nail to not arouse from whatever he had planned. 

Having taken off his suit jacket and rolling up his sleeves, Steve waited for you in the middle of the room. His eyes glinted with satisfaction when you stepped out. He crooked a finger at you, beckoning you to him. 

“I knew you’d come out like a good girl, Princess,” he crooned, not at all bothered by your stomping and glaring daggers his way. 

“Didn’t feel like watching a door being splintered into pieces,” you snapped, clenching your hands on the skirt of your dress as you stood right in front of Steve.

“Of course. That’s the only splintering you were concerned about,” he teased, running a single digit down the column of your neck. “But I know, Princess. I know there’s this curiosity that draws you to me. You may hate it, but your body is eager to learn what I’ll do to you.”

“It’s not. I’m not!” You protested, yet you didn’t flinch when his finger drew a scorching line from one collar bone to the other, then dipped lower to trace your cleavage. 

“I want to believe your words, Princess,” Steve said in pretend seriousness, “but let’s check in with your body, too.”

As embarrassing the thought of him flipping your skirts up was, you inwardly prayed he’d do it quickly. If he touched your pussy now, he’d find you dry. But if he prolonged the whole thing, you had no certainty it would stay this way. 

“I’m aware how fond of my gun you are,” his words startled you, stopping your heart for a split of a second then sending it into a fluttery beat. The memory of the warm muzzle dragging along your thigh and slipping under your panties spurred heat to pool low in your core. 

Shit! No! 

No, no, no. You couldn’t get wet! 

“But I didn’t think it’s an accessory appropriate for the wedding,” Steve’s mouth curved into a lopsided smile that only added to his criminally hot look. 

“So I had something special to be custom made for this occasion-” he touched your cheek in a sweet caress- “and for any future occasions… with my wife.”

Your breath hitched in your lungs when he called you his wife. He made it sound reverent, but at the same time his tone dripped with that dark triumph that reminded you there was no way out from his clutches. 

You watched Steve dip his hand into his pocket and then a glint of steel flashed before your eyes. 

A switchblade so sharp and polished so smooth that it seemed to be honed out of pure light. The handle was a shimmery white, with undertones of rainbow. Mother of pearl, you realized. 

Steve had his fingers wrapped around it, but purposely flipped it out, pinching the hilt between two of his fingers so you could see the silver initials engraved on it. Your initials, but with your last name being Rogers. 

Eyes widening, you went still as Steve brought the blade to your skin. Just the tip of it, you barely felt its touch, but your mind was already running with images of cuts and drawn blood. It should scare you, cause tears to fall out. Instead, you felt your pulse thundering in places that shouldn’t react to fear with excitement. 

Steve drew a soft line over the curve of your breasts and dipped the steel into the valley between them. 

He wrapped the fingers of his other hand around the front of your neck. His eyes heated up as your pupils widened in reaction, once again proving how weak you were for this single gesture. Keeping his hold firm enough you felt the silver of his rings pressing into your skin, Steve traced the blade along the trim of your wedding dress and then down your ribcage.     

“Are you afraid I’m going to hurt you?” Steve’s voice was deceivingly soft, as if he really cared if you were scared. 

You doubted he’d stop, even if you claimed that you are. You’d sooner expect him to mock you and then proceed to torment your body, proving to you how much you craved his depravity. 

But it wasn’t the physical torture you wanted to avoid. For how bad Steve was, how he fucked up your life, somehow you knew he wouldn’t harm you physically. Well, perhaps if you betrayed him. He’d kill you then. But as long as you followed his plans, you were certain he wouldn’t raise his hand on you.

Steve’s thumb brushed along your jaw in a seemingly soothing caress. You turned your face to the side, but he forced you to look back at him when you admitted in a defeated whisper: 

“I’m afraid you will make me like it.”

Fingers still curled around the front of your neck, Steve inched closer. Blue of his irises seemed to glitter an impossible hue up this close, mesmerizing you. 

You were a prey fully ensnared. 

“I will, Princess.” Steve’s lips teased yours. “I will give you pleasure that hurts so good.”

A tiny whimper escaped your mouth. You wished it was a sound of trepidation, but it held an unmistakable undertone of need. It was too late now, you felt a wet spot forming on your white undergarments. 

Steve kissed you softly, reverently; like a husband in love might kiss his beloved wife on their wedding night. Combined with the pressure of a sharp blade at your side, it made your head spin. 

“Stay still, please,” Steve squeezed your throat lightly, before releasing you and taking a step back. 

He walked around you, slowly making a full circle as he admired you. Teasing you by making you wait for what he does next. When he stopped behind you and you felt the puff of his breath on your nape, your fingers trembled. 

Then the cool blade pressed where Steve’s warm breath tickled you a second ago. He drew a sharper line down the middle of your back. You didn’t feel the sting of a cut, but he put enough pressure for you to feel a tingling scratch that dispersed into pleasant burning. 

You gulped when you felt him hook the knife under the lacing of your dress.

“I can just take it off.” You grumbled, frowning. It was a stunning dress and even though you wouldn’t be wearing it ever again, you weren’t happy with the idea of it being cut to pieces.

“You could,” Steve chuckled, “but then I wouldn’t get to hear you-”

You gasped as he swiftly cut through the first string.

“-make that lovely sound.” 

Steve relished in each cut, though you weren’t sure if he was more entranced with your little noises (which you tried to suppress, but failed at times), the act of cutting itself, or with your naked skin being revealed as the bodice of your dress parted. 

When the corset opened fully, dropping and exposing your upper body, Steve smoothed his hand along your back. Which elicited another gasp from you. 

You expected the blade to return, to draw dangerous patterns on your fragile skin. Steve’s warm, gentle caress sent a different kind of jolt down your spine, causing your tense muscles to relax in foolish trust. He pressed himself to your back, moving his hand around your front and boldly cupping your breast. A wave of heat seemed to scorch your face from the inside, but it also pooled between your thighs. 

He peppered kisses along your neck as he played with your breast; sucked on your skin as he switched his attention to the other tit. 

There was no logical thought in your head when he pinched your nipple hard and you arched; one of your arms flying up to grip the back of Steve’s head. It was an instinctive reaction of your body’s deepest need. 

Suddenly, Steve’s touch left you. Only to pull impatiently at your dress, forcing the abundant skirt to fall down. Big hands - one still holding a knife - clenched around your hips. He picked you up so easily, as if you weighed close to nothing. 

Then he was dropping you onto the grand bed. Before you even managed to push yourself up, he flipped you over onto your back. A split of a panicked thought almost had you inching away, reheating the idea to fight him. But one of Steve’s hands clenched on your ankle, while the other splayed on your belly - the one holding the knife. 

“Lie back, Princess.” Steve’s tone wasn’t harsh, but it chimed with certain urgency. 

You stilled. Though you preferred to think it was because of the blade he left on your belly in a warning, not because he asked you to. 

Definitely not because you couldn’t look away from him as Steve undressed in a few quick, practiced moves. 

The sight was so enticing you didn’t think of grabbing the knife and possibly changing the flow of the night to your advantage. 

Without his shirt on, you saw the wide plains of Steve’s chest and chiseled abdomen; saw the tattoos entwining his arms and upper body. Dark patterns, with a few splashes of rich color, that only added to the dark, thrilling aura of Steve Rogers. 

You swore that while Steve was a scary motherfucker in his usual wear, he’d appear an even more lethal demon if he approached his victims half-naked. 

Your gaze shifted downward when he pushed his pants down, but you forced it back up to his face. Mostly because you feared the sound you may make, if you saw his cock. Partly because you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of you staring. 

When Steve knelt on the mattress and then crawled forward, you dropped your head to the pillows and focused on the ceiling. A part of you craved to watch him, to await in trepidation, but you still held onto that sane part of your brain that told you it’s wrong to want it. Wrong to give in to him so easily. 

“You’re beautiful, Princess.” He repeated the words, just like he promised.

Calloused fingers traced up your legs. The sensation this touch evoked made you want to clench your thighs, but Steve’s knee was wedged between your legs, preventing it. 

Eyes focused on your face, Steve seemed to study and memorize every spark of reaction to his touch. He picked up the knife again. The grin that he flashed you as he brought the blade to your skin was all satisfaction and condescending praise. He didn’t say it, but you almost heard the Good girl. For doing as he told you. For waiting. For being so obviously responsive. 

He knelt above you as he trailed the knife along your exposed body. His gaze shifted between the glint of the blade and your face. As his aim traveled south, Steve moved along with it. 

Corner of his mouth tugged upward in a dangerous smirk when he slipped the tip of the blade under the white lace of your panties. 

Your whole body went rigid. Your mouth opened, your breath becoming ragged. 

And yet, when he slashed the fabric apart, you felt a new gush of slick. 

Steve cut the other side of your panties as well, then pushed your thighs further apart. Exposing your shameful reaction. 

“Princess,” he licked his lips, “it appears that you’re wet.” 

He tapped the wide side of the blade against your clit, the jolt of it making you clench around nothing. Steve’s eyes darkened and a low, growling kind of sound rumbled in his chest as he used the knife to flick away the lace that was sticking to your drenched folds. 

“You’re not wet. You’re dripping.” He seemed to be in awe of the discovery. 

It was in a sense a comforting feeling, to see more than just a cocky triumph. To see Steve affected by the situation. Perhaps not as strongly as you were, but with enough force to make you think perhaps it was a novelty for him as well. 

“Say it, Princess.” Steve’s gaze flicked back to your face; his own eyes full of dark hunger. “Say how wet you are, for me.”

Your lips clenched shut, a stubborn frown drawing your eyebrows together. It was humiliating enough that you were so lewdly on display for this bastard, that your body betrayed you and was ready to take him. Admitting it aloud would only strip you of all defenses. 

When Steve slapped your inner thigh, the sting of it seemed to zing directly to your clit. 

“Ohh!” You couldn’t suppress the gasp, but then managed to spat angrily - “Fuck, fine! I’m wet for you, you bastard.”

As much as you hated it, your anger was less about him demanding your admission and more about him not touching you where you most needed it. 

“Your husband.” Steve reminded you, with sinister glee. 

With his knee, he pressed your other leg down. Then dragged the knife along the skin of your inner thigh. This time you felt the prick of pain as he cut the tissue. You hissed, head lifting up to stare at the tiny, thin wound. A single drop of blood pearled at the end of it. 

Then Steve’s mouth was on it. Warm and sucking, and drawing a surprised moan out of you. 

He sucked and licked it clean, making you forget about everything else. His mouth moved up, closer and closer to your core. When he finally licked into your folds as if he was biting into a ripe fruit, you dropped down with a cry. 

Fingers gripping the sheets tightly, you rode sensations unknown to you until then. Muscles strained in pain as you held yourself stiff, still sensing that blade pressed against your skin. Steve had his arms wrapped under and around your thighs, keeping you spread as he feasted on your pussy. One of his hands was holding the knife against your abdomen, the sharp tip right on your mound. 

“Oh God, please!” Your eyes clenched shut. “Please, please, Steve. I-”

As he lapped at your clit, lashing it with rapid flicks then sucking on it so sweetly, you felt your orgasm building painfully high. You were heartbeats away from climaxing.

“Stop, please!” You begged. “The knife- I can’t- I need-” 

Even if you were pleading for him to stop what he was doing all together, Steve wouldn’t listen. Not when he was so close to owning you completely. You needed something slightly different and you hoped Steve would recognize the urgency.

Mercifully, he paused. Though he held his lips close to your clit as he looked up at you from between your thighs - his eyes reminiscing of the stars frozen in dark waters of the northern lakes. 

“What do you need from your knife, Princess?” He asked, tilting the blade an inch lower. 

It almost touched your clit. 

“Place it away, please,” you started explaining, sensing that he wouldn’t comply without a satisfying reason. “I- I’m about to come. And I will, um, move. I can’t stay still. I just, I never could. I can’t.” 

“You’re afraid I’d cut you, if you get all squirmy and arching?” Twinkle of amusement lit up Steve’s eyes.

“Please, Steve.” You feared tearing up, if he refused you. You also feared he would make you cum and cut you, and that you weren’t ready for that combination of pain and pleasure. 

He hummed, holding your gaze as he licked your clit again. Your muscles tensed anew, he had to feel them straining in your thighs where he held you. Then, very slowly, he untangled himself from you. Steve let your thighs drop to the mattress freely. He lifted the hand holding the knife and you sagged in relief. 

Steve leaned over you, bracing his weight on one arm. His broad frame cast a shadow over you. He brought the blade up to your face, you could see a fragment of your reflection in it. 

“Kiss it.” Steve ordered. 

You stared at him, bewildered. He waited, surprisingly patiently, holding the blade inches from your mouth. He called this knife yours. Had it custom made for you. Used it on you in ways you never imagined in a sexual encounter. Teased what more he could do. What he probably would do to you in the future. And he wanted you to kiss it as if in gratitude for all the lewd things it would unleash on you. 

Swallowing nervously, you lifted your head enough to press your lips against the steel. 

“Good girl,” he praised. 

Your gaze followed Steve’s arm as he reached toward the nightstand to place the knife on it. Then his hand swiped along your arm, caressing muscles that strained from still gripping the sheets. 

He coaxed you back into the moment with a sensual kiss. The way his tongue dipped between your lips was soft and seductive. You’d never expect someone like Steve to be able to kiss like that. 

Heat quickly returned in pulsing beats to your clit as Steve kissed down your body. He settled back between your thighs, with a moan tasting your pussy once more. Relentlessly, he licked and sucked you back to that edge. Then pushed you over it as he pushed a finger into you. 

Steve kept that finger pumping steadily into your fluttering walls as he trailed wet bites up your body. He was hovering above you. Mouth, glistening with your arousal, was a lick away from you when he thrust a second digit inside. The stretch made you keen and Steve drank up every grimace you made. 

“Touch me, Princess,” he tempted you, curling his fingers just right. “Come on. Touch. I know you want to.” 

If your brain wasn’t a post-orgasmic mush, maybe you could muster some stubborn will to do the opposite. But he was right, you itched to touch him, to feel the ripple of his muscles beneath your fingertips, to see how hot he ran. 

Hesitantly at first, you placed both of your hands on his shoulders. Your gaze found one of the intricate vines that weaved along his shoulder and up his neck, a branch sprouting from it curved down and over his pectoral. You traced it with one hand, your other instinctively moving to Steve’s back. 

When you traced the contoured muscles of his abdomen, fingernails scratching lightly at the narrow path of coarse hair leading southwards, Steve increased the pace of his fingers. It stirred the fire in your core into a burst, evoking another moan. 

“Lower.” Steve gritted out, putting more of his weight and heat onto you. “Wrap that small hand of yours around my cock, Princess.” 

It was dirty - his words and the squelching sound of your pussy as he fingerfucked you. 

But it also made you drop your gaze between your bodies, searching for a glimpse of that dick. It swayed heavy, half-hard, right above your hip. Your walls clenched unexpectedly as you watched it. 

This wasn’t the first cock you saw in your life. You were far from a blushing virgin. There was something about Steve, however, that made you feel nervous and out of your depth. It appeared that sex with him was a whole new, scary discovery. 

Steve urged you with another command and your hand slipped down instantly. Hot, pulsing flesh in your palm, twitching and hardening as you curled your fingers around the quite impressive girth. 

It would stretch you so deliciously. Steve didn’t need to voice it for your imagination to ignite with the phantom sensation. 

You tightened your hold, swiping your thumb over the widened, red head. At Steve’s deep moan, your eyes flew up to his face, watching his pleasure in wonder. He didn’t hide it from you, didn’t try to pretend he wasn’t affected. Still, you felt yourself more at his mercy than he was at yours. Especially when you sensed that small kick of elation at giving him pleasure with your touch. 

You smeared the beads of precum down his shaft and started stroking. It was a mismatched rhythm, your focus faltering every time Steve drove his crooked fingers against that sensitive, spongy spot inside you. 

When Steve sat back on his haunches, you stopped your movement. A rush of heat filled you with sudden shyness as his gaze roamed over your splayed body. 

Skin dewy, breasts heaving with quickened breath, legs spread wide. Your hand was still around his cock, your ring and wedding band catching sparks of light. Steve’s own fingers were buried deep in your cunt, your slick glistened on his palm and wrist. 

Steve moved his other hand up your body, marveling at your curves and softness. He gave your breast a playful squeeze before trading his fingers further up. Fingers encircled the front of your neck in a familiar way. 

“You’re a fucking perfection, Princess.” 

Then he was withdrawing his fingers from your heat; milky slick sticking in a web between his digits. He knocked your hand away and spread your wetness all over his cock. 

He held your gaze as he dragged his dick between your puffed folds and into your hole. A pause for you to catch your breath, then he was thrusting in one fluid, firm stroke. 

A curse bubbled on your lips, stretching into a moan as he split you. Unable to reach him at the moment, your hands fisted the shits, gripping and twisting the fabric. Nipples stiffened into hard peaks, your chest arched upward at the same time as your head bowed back. 

There was no second to adjust, no mercy. Steve pounded into you roughly, setting a steady tempo. He watched your body move along the mattress, at least as much as his hold on your throat and your hip allowed. Your breasts swayed with each thrust, your thighs shook with each slap of his hips into you. 

He watched your eyes glaze over as an orgasmic haze crept over you anew. Your pretty mouth stayed open, letting out all the sweet noises. It took barely a few of his thrusts and you were cumming again. 

Everything was still spinning in your head when Steve yanked your hips more upwards. Your buttocks rested on his thighs, legs thrown over his hips as he fucked into you. Grip on your throat tightened more and more. Your eyes flew open, one of your hands grabbing onto Steve’s wrist. Unbothered, he kept choking you lightly. At the same time, his other hand sneaked across your abdomen. 

With your airflow limited, every sensation seemed to heighten impossibly. The stretch of his cock, the pressure of his hand on your lower belly. The coil tightened and tightened, and when Steve swiped his thumb over your engorged clit, you shattered with a soundless scream. 

Steve released your throat and the gulps of air you instinctively tok between raw cries seemed to prolong your orgasm. It twisted into a craze that felt agonizingly good. 

So good it caused you to cry, salty streaks dripping out of the corners of your eyes and down your temples. 

Through the thunderous buzz of blood pounding in your head, the muffled sound of Steve’s voice reached you. Your brain was unable to function enough to recognize it, but it sounded like your name. And something akin to ‘Atta girl. 

When Steve shifted, you welcomed his warm heaviness like a comforting blanket, mapping his sweaty back with your hands. He was still moving, speeding up, as he braced both of his forearms on the mattress. His breath was hot against your skin, his lips starved as he kissed and nipped. 

He rested his forehead against yours as he came with a loud moan. Warmth of his spend filled you and though you didn’t think of it now, later you would be thankful for the little contraceptive implant you had. As the fog of pleasure held you in its grip, you didn’t care for the consequences. Not when Steve was still rocking slightly into you, his cock twitching. 

You sighed, scrunching up your nose, when Steve pulled out a while later. Your pussy throbbed in protest, or maybe it was from the ache that was starting to make itself known. You leaked, too, which would make you really embarrassed if you weren’t too boneless to care. 

You managed to wipe at your temples and cheeks, where remnants of tears still wetted your skin, before Steve was touching you again. He flipped you onto your belly then licked a line up your spine with a broad stroke of his tongue. 

“Aren’t you done?” You huffed, fearing you may not be able to survive more. 

“Far from it,” Steve laughed and playfully slapped your ass. 

You were thankful that he spent quite some time just kissing and touching your back, your ass and your thighs. Whether he was giving himself enough time to get hard again, or if he was this dedicated to learning your body. 

When he sat on your thighs, his knees braced on the outside of your closed legs, and squeezed your asscheeks, you expected him to play there more. Instead, you felt him spread you enough to expose your pussy. He slid inside slowly, but it still took you by surprise.    

Steve laid on top of you, balancing his weight on his arms as he pulled back and thrust back in. The angle unraveled a completely new type of sensation.

“Oh my- fuuuck!” You couldn’t help the unladylike, high pitched squeal. 

Nails scratching at the sheets helplessly, you spluttered mewls as Steve purposely rocked his hips back and forth. 

“Awww,” he cooed, “is that the spot, Princess?” 

Then he pulled back and slammed back in. Each thrust grazed that ultrasensitive area; each time he sunk deeper and deeper, too. 

If you were moaning and crying when he fucked you the first time, these sounds were a symphony of pitiful and needy that surpassed others. At one point your mouth just hung open, saliva seeping out of the corner and staining the mattress. 

Your toes curled and you helplessly kicked your feet up and down, unable to shift in your position to ease the increasing, maddening pleasure. With your cheek pressed to the mattress, your gaze mindlessly focused on the ring on your finger where your hand rested beside your head. 

Steve’s fingers entered your vision, brushing along your hand and intertwining with your fingers. A mockery of softness in the ruthless way he was fucking you. 

Your cunt tightened around him, producing more slick the longer he railed that tormenting spot. The sound of him fucking you turned more and more squelching. 

“I want you to soak the sheets,” Steve grunted. When you made a noise of protest, he paused to force your legs wide apart with his feet. “Come on, Princess. Make a mess.”

And you did. 

Hiding your face in the bedding didn’t suppress the string of cries as you climaxed, squirting a small pool of release. 

Steve fucked you through it. Each of his hard thrusts ripping your whimpers into a choked single vowel as you went lax beneath him. 

“Fuck, Princess.”  He groaned, feeling your wetness drip down his balls. “I would wife you up for that alone. You really-” his hips snapped harder and faster- “are. Fucking. Perfect.” 

Your fingers remained intertwined, Steve’s face buried in the crook of your neck, as he came. Perhaps it was the angle at which he was buried inside of you, or maybe this time his orgasm was much stronger, but you felt every throb and every spurt more clearly than before. Felt yourself full with his cum and dripping excess of your combined spend. 

Long, long minutes later, when Steve pulled out and dropped next to you onto the mattress, you didn’t even blame him for not having enough power (or decency) to get you a wet cloth. 

Honestly, you didn’t have any strength to get up either. 

It was later, as you resigned yourself to falling asleep in the mess that you made, that you heard the sound of a drawer being open. Then a soft, wet wipe was pressed to your inner thigh. It was a surprise. Felt a little weird, too. But you rested quietly as Steve wiped you and himself clean, tossing used tissues into the bin hidden behind the nightstand.

When he laid back down on the unsoiled side of the bed and reached for you, you glared at him. 

Yes, he fucked your brains out. You seriously doubted there were any functioning brain cells left. Yes, you were officially married. Still, it didn’t mean you were going to play a docile wife in every aspect of this torment. 

“You want to sleep on the stained sheets?” Steve arched a single eyebrow. “Swallow your stubbornness and scoot here, Princess.” 

It was voiced as if he was giving you an option, but he didn’t wait for your decision. Astonishingly easily, he sneaked a hand under one of your thighs and simply lifted you enough to relocate you. 

Nestled to Steve’s side, with one leg hiked over his thigh, you willed yourself to stay awake long enough to sneak out when Steve dozed off. Unfortunately for you, your will was too fucked out. 

You fell asleep snuggled to the ruthless mafia monster.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fic #steve rogers imagine #dark mafia!steve rogers #dark mafia!steve rogers x you #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x you #dark mafia!steve rogers x reader #touch the darkness #my writing

[evansbby]

bestie pls feed us spanking blurb, the immediate urge and need to be over daddy mafia ari’s lap whilst he just ignores ur pleas and cries and pulls down ur panties and spanks u 🥺😌

I’m literally at an airport so this’ll have to be brief but here goes… 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

Pairing: mafia!Ari Levinson x naive!reader

Warnings: dark!Ari, dd/lg, smut, spanking, daddy kink, voyeurism, dry-humping

Summary: Your daddy punishes you after you accidentally say a bad word.

“Daddy, please!” You cry, desperately wiggling around in Ari’s strong arms. He’s got a death grip on you, however, and he’s barely using even a quarter of his strength. “Please, didn’t mean to say it! Please!”

You hate punishments — especially spankings because they hurt and make you cry like a baby — even when you try your hardest to be brave. Even right now, you look at Ari with the biggest puppy-dog expression, eyes welling with tears.

“Honey, you know daddy has to punish you. Else you’ll never learn.” Ari’s got his stern voice on, which lets you know that there’ll be no worming out of this one. He easily manoeuvres your flailing body across his lap, pinching the flesh of your ass in warning, “and stop moving or else I’ll use my belt.”

You still immediately. He’s never used his belt on you but you don’t want today to be the day he does.

Sniffling, you look over your shoulder at him dejectedly, “Said I was sorry, daddy. It’s just— the oven was so hot and I forgot I’m not allowed to use big girl words— it just came out, I swear.”

Ari sighs, methodically flipping your skirt up and pushing your panties down, and he can’t help but squeeze the bare flesh of your ass. “Well, that’s another strike, because you shouldn’t be using the oven without supervision anyways.”

You pout, “b-but I’m your wife— how else am I supposed to cook for you? Ow!”

Ari gives your ass a firm slap, admiring how it jiggles, “Don’t get sassy with me, honey. You’re my wife but you’re also my baby. And what have I told you about babies?”

You hang your head dejectedly and recite: “babies like me aren’t allowed to do big girl things without daddy’s permission.”

“Good girl.” Ari strokes your hair back, petting your head like you’re his puppy, and you can’t help but lean up into his touch. “Now, baby. I want you to count every spank, and thank daddy after each one. Got it?”

Your lower lip quivers but you try to be brave, “Y-Yes, daddy.”

SMACK.

“O-One. Thank you, daddy.”

You grimace, biting your lip to keep from crying out loud. And Ari’s really enjoying himself, squeezing and groping at your sizzling flesh after every few spanks, as if he can’t help himself. He even presses his lips down on the sensitive flesh of your ass cheek, kissing you softly before landing another harsh smack.

“Look at your little baby ass, practically begging for a good old-fashioned spanking.” Ari murmurs, jiggling your cheek lewdly and making you wince because it hurts so much. “Baby wives like you need their daddies to keep them in check like this every once in a while, don’t you agree, honey?”

SMACK.

“T-Ten, thank you, daddy! I agree!” You cry, silently begging for mercy yet at the same time wiggling downwards, unable to keep still because the rough denim of his jeans feels so good against your throbbing pussy.

“Now look at you, wet from a spanking and humping your baby pussy on daddy’s leg like a little bunny in heat.” Another spank, and another one, and now you’ve lost count. “And in front of all your little stuffed animals too? You must feel so ashamed.”

You tearfully glance at all your stuffies, longing to have your stuffed rabbit, Floppy, in your arms to comfort you. Instead, you receive another series of hard slaps, the lewd sound of the smacks echoing around the room.

“Apologise to them too.” Ari orders you, voice dripping with authority and sick lust. “C’mon, honey. Apologise to your little stuffies for being such a naughty baby with a potty mouth.” He slaps your upper thigh and you hiss in pain, “Tell your little friends what a bad girl you are.”

“I’m a bad girl!” You cry desperately, unable to lock eyes with the toys, feeling silly and ashamed and humiliated all at once. “I’m sorry, stuffies and I’m sorry, daddy! Won’t ever swear again, please!”

A final slap and then Ari’s pulling you upright, gathering you in his arms while you sob into his chest. “There, there, baby.” He coos, kissing the top of your head and stroking your hair back, “Daddy had to do it. How else will little babies like you ever learn the rules?”

More kisses, more fondling, and he even licks up the stray tears falling down your cheeks.

“I know you’re just a baby and it’s confusing for you to remember all our rules— but that’s why you need daddy. I don’t want to hear another swear word come out of your mouth, you got that, honey? And no going near the oven, either. It’s dangerous for babies.”

You sniffle and nod, feeling especially small — as if you truly are his baby — as Ari cuddles you. Readily, you accept his thumb when he pushes it against your lips, sucking on it noisily to calm yourself down from the whole ordeal you’ve just gone through. Your ass feels like it’s on fire but you know that your daddy knows best.

“That’s my good little baby,” Ari coos, pinching your cheek and holding you close. And it’s crazy how he’s made you so addicted to his babying, to the point where you physically need him to act like this with you — especially after harsh punishments like this.

“Curtis.” Your eyes widen at Ari’s suddenly gruff tone, and your blood runs cold when you see your husband’s right hand man step out of the shadows in the corner of the room.

Had he been there this whole time?

“Cancel my meetings for today. My wife is being particularly needy.” He gestures down at you lying mortified in his lap, trying to push your skirt back down as you desperately continue to suck on your daddy’s thumb.

“Got it, boss.” The buzzcut-haired man nods and leaves, and Ari turns his attention back to you.

“Next time you break one of daddy’s rules, I’ll spank you in front of all my men, you got that?” He shoved his thumb further into your mouth, choking you slightly as your eyes begin to water, but he’s got the same loving look on his face.

“My little baby… soon enough I’ll have you trained to know all of my rules, even if it’s too much for your little baby brain to handle.”

THE END

AHHHH PLEASE LEMME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!! I wrote majority of this at the airport then finished it just now!!

#chris evans x reader #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson #Chris evans #Steve rogers #Ari levinson smut #chris evans fanfiction #Ari drabble #mafia ex husband ari au #dark ari levinson

[marvelvillian23]

PLEASE!! I need fics rec for all of these! Especially the Convict. Please be multi Chapter fics.

It even can be Steve in these situations instead of Bucky I don’t mind.

*Photos From Pinterest

I’m currently reading Blood Moon Rising on AO3 by Sarahyellow.

It’s a A/B/O prison story where Bucky’s the convict and pre serum Steve is the prison counselor…I think. A riot breaks out and Bucky takes Steve hostage. 5/8 Chapters are up so far.

#marvel #bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #marvel cinematic universe #dark bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mafia bucky barnes #bucky barnes x original female character #bucky barnes x oc #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky x you #Bucky #dark steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #steve rogers x bucky barnes #stucky #steve x bucky #dark Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖Make it Stick: Pt. 3 The Knight

Rating: Explicit

Chapter Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Bucky x ofc x Steve

Word Count: 3195

Tags: dark!fic, mob/mafia au, mob!Bucky, mob!Steve, dubcon/noncon, sexual coercion, half-sibling incest, m/f/m, non-con drug use, mentions of torture (non graphic), double penetration, forced tattooing, forced orgasms, enemies to lovers

Summary: When his babygirl—his sweet pea, little one, puppy ... half-sister—is recaptured after her latest attempt at running away, Bucky makes a power play in front of the entire Bratva to remind her exactly who she belongs to.

Dark and smutty content below the break. Consume responsibly.

Wait! I haven't read part 1, part 2!

“Nnn, pl-please…”

Her gasp is hardly audible this time, she’s so out of breath.

Panting from the way the second orgasm’s just ripped through her. And she’s crying still, but only just. Not like before. Because now the pleasure’s overtaken most of the anger, all of the fear, and even some of the humiliation. Bucky pulls his hands from her and delicately eases her panties back into place, smooths her little slip of a dress out for her. He looks up from his spot on the floor.

Her chest heaves with her breathing, the underside of her breasts—beautiful and natural under the silk—on full display for Bucky from this angle. And, Christ, her nipples are pebbled up, just begging for attention. Bucky sees Steve refixing his hold on her waist to support her because she’s gone so slack. She’s shaking against him, his body practically the only thing keeping her vertical at this point.

Inside his pants, Bucky is … uncomfortable. He slowly pushes up from where he’s been kneeling in front of her, coming back to stand at his full height and crowd in close again. He cages her between his body and Steve’s, hands landing on her waist right alongside Steve’s own. “Shh sh sh,” he hushes, mockingly tender. “Don’t you want to say thank you for your orgasm?” He leans in so that the words are whispered against the side of her head. He’s staring at Steve as he says it, and when Lena’s mortified, overwhelmed little whimper comes in response, he doesn’t miss how Steve’s mouth twitches at the corner. Steve likes to play the white knight—and maybe he sort of is, compared to Bucky, but even still, he’s no sweetheart. And he’s enjoying the heck out of this. “Are you hard?” Bucky whispers, and he feels his sweet puppy’s body stiffen between them as she figures out who he’s talking to.

“You have to ask?” Steve answers, the rumble of his voice no doubt felt against Polina’s back. She makes another little outraged cry when Steve presses forward, driving his erection against her backside and pushing her more tightly up against Bucky.

Bucky, who helpfully slots his thigh back between her legs. She shivers as her sex is pressed up against him, going stock still to avoid any stimulation. Bucky coos down at her. He lets go of her waist and cups her face with one hand, tucking her hair behind her ear with the other. “Aw, princess,” he murmurs. “You sensitive now? Hm?”

She sniffles and nods her head. She’s been much more forthcoming ever since the suppository and the pill worked their way into her system. Behind the glossy sheen of her tears, her pupils are even wider and darker than Steve’s. It’s hardly taken any work at all to get her to come twice for him, she’s so keyed up.

Bucky tuts lovingly and brings the still buzzing vibrator up in front of her face. He twists the base, turning it off. Lena’s whole body slumps between them with relief, and Bucky chuckles. “Don’t get too excited. This might not be over for you.”

“W-what …” she swallows dryly. “What do you mean?”

“You still have a choice to make.” Bucky taps the little bullet vibrator against her lips. “Open.” She clamps her mouth shut stubbornly, so Bucky shrugs and rubs it over her instead, smearing her own release onto her lips. He leans in and slots his mouth over hers, licking the taste of her right back. “Mmm,” he hums. “Somebody’s been drinking their pineapple juice.”

She’s glowering at him when he pulls back. Bucky licks his lips like he’s savoring the last taste of a fatty meal. He can tell from the look on her face that he’s actually right: she has been drinking it. He feels a rush of fondness mixed with anger come at that—Fond, because it’s proof that she takes even his smallest teachings to heart.

“No, seriously. That’s why I have a glass each morning. It makes cum taste sweeter. … Pussy, too.”

Anger, because it’s not him she’s been drinking it for.

He forces the latter emotion away with a deep breath and a long exhale. He doesn’t have to be angry, because nobody but him is ever going to taste that pussy again. … Well, almost nobody but him. “Okay, little one,” he sighs. “Time to make a choice.” He reaches around her and tucks the vibe back into Steve’s pocket. Then he looks down and meets her gaze.

Her pretty blue eyes are wide but dazed, high from the drugs coursing through her system. Bucky smiles and cups her face with both hands. She’s so fucking beautiful, with her round little face and plush lips, her pretty blue eyes. They’re near arctic in color—closer to Steve’s cornflower blue than Bucky’s own muddled blue-grey. Sharp and clear, like ice underwater, and positively gorgeous when they’re crying.

Lena sniffles and Bucky’s heart twinges with affection. He leans in and kisses her cheeks, cleaning up her tears. “You need to listen to me now, Polina,” he murmurs, feeling her shudder underneath his touch. “Are you listening?”

She whines a little, not able to give up completely on her stubbornness, even now. Bucky loves her so goddamn much. She tries to squirm in their hold again, but as soon as her over sensitized clit bumps Bucky’s thigh, she’s calming back down. “What?” she asks quietly, sniffling and trying to put on a stiff upper lip. It’s cute.

“It’s up to you, how this goes,” Bucky tells her. He looks over to his right and catches the eye of one of the widows. It’s Belova. He jerks his head for her to go and get the supplies that are waiting in the wings. She disappears and reappears with a rolling tray table of tattoo supplies. “This,” he says to Lena, “is what’s happening.”

She squints in confusion at it for a second or two—the tray of gauze and ointment, inks and gloves and gun—before her eyes register the stencil and read it … and go wide in realization. She jerks in their hold, thrashing, tossing her head back against Steve’s chest in another vain attempt to hurt him. “No!” she huffs, the sound breaking into a pitiful whimper at the end, despite her bravery. “No, you can’t!”

Bucky waits her out, and sure enough, her little tantrum dies down. She cries, and he wipes those tears away, too. “Shh,” he soothes. “It’s not so bad.”

“It is!” she cries. “I hate you. I hate you!”

“You’re a smart girl, Lena. You can’t tell me you didn’t always know you’d wind up here.” He tilts her chin up when she refuses to look at him. Her tearful, angry eyes meet his, and he offers her a tender smile. He gives her another kiss, just a peck on the lips, this time. “I always get what I want, sora mica,” he murmurs, right against her lips.

Little sister.

She shudders underneath his touch but doesn’t shirk away, and Bucky preens because he knows the war that’s going on in her head right now, even if she’ll never admit to it. Revulsion, mixed with lust, and darkness, and something too close for comfort to love. It’s what he used to feel, back before he decided to give up on conventional morality altogether. Poor little Lena, though, he thinks sadly. She hasn’t gotten there yet. Oh well, she’s young, she’ll learn.

“Now,” he tells her, thumbing over the familial cleft in her chin. “You have two choices, sweet pea. You ready to listen to ‘em?”

She grits her teeth and purses her lips in an angry little moue, stubborn thing, though she capitulates when Bucky tightens his grip on her chin. “Yes,” she whispers tightly.

Bucky smiles. “Okay. Now, two things are happening, no matter what,” he says, raising a warning eyebrow at her. “You’re getting this tattooed on your body … and Gleb back there is going for a long swim in the Hudson.” He waits her out while she throws another hissy fit over that, tears leaking and eyes burning up at him. Bucky sighs and looks off to the side until it’s over. Then, when she’s slumped back against Steve again, all tuckered out, he continues, “If you hold still like a good girl, I won’t take your dress off in front of all these people, won’t force any more orgasms outta you down here where everyone can see. And Gleb’ll get wheeled off to his morphine and an easy death. No torture, just the widow’s bite—lickety-split, no fuss-no muss.”

He watches as her eyes flare and her face crumples with suppressed emotion. She composes herself faster this time, though, and he continues softly, drawing her lip down with his thumb. “But, if you make things difficult? I’ll have you squirting all over this floor before I knock you out and ink you while you’re unconscious. And Gleb will have …” he looks off to the side, as if trying to parse out his words, “... mmm, he’ll have a very stressful weekend.” He tilts his head and narrows his eyes, squeezing her chin sternly enough that it smooshes her cheeks the barest bit. “Are you gonna be good?”

She looks torn for a second or two, but then her eyes slip closed in defeat. In Bucky’s hand, she gives the tiniest of nods.

Bucky’s pleased, but he wants more from her. “Tell me,” he commands. “You’re gonna hold nice and still?”

She sniffles and nods again. “Yes,” she breathes. “I’ll hold s-still. I’ll … I’ll be good.”

Her meek response satisfies him. Feeling a sudden wash of tenderness towards her, he leans down and presses their foreheads together and whispers, “Thank you, little one. You know how I hate to see you struggle.”

She shivers against him but doesn’t throw out any bratty quip. She keeps her eyes down, avoidant. Sighing, Bucky pulls back and steps aside to have a word with Belova. He tells her his plans for Gleb, and she gives a sharp nod and heads off to handle it. Bucky knows then that he can put the idiot man from his mind for good. The widows will more than take care of him.

Bucky returns to Steve and Lena, ready to get to work. Really, he’d prefer Natasha to be the one doing this. Bucky’s no amateur with the gun, but he’s not as good as she is. Oh well. He has a steady hand, and the design is extremely simple. Just that one phrase, in cyrillic:

собственность дракона.

Translated roughly, it means: Property of the Dragon.

“Steve,” Bucky says. “Sit with her on the bench. It’ll help keep her calm.”

Along with the cart of tattoo supplies, a rolling stool, a bench, and a padded armrest have been brought over from the Red Room. Steve all but lifts Lena and brings her over there, straddling the bench first before pulling her to straddle it in front of him. Bucky goes about setting up, snapping on a pair of black vinyl gloves while Steve wraps his arms around Lena’s waist and murmurs quietly into her ear. Bucky smiles at the pair of them. Steve cares about Polina, too, has known her for almost a decade, and he’s always had a knack for calming her down. A good thing, since Bucky’s so naturally gifted at riling her up.

He sits on the stool and scoots over to them. Lena watches him warily. Steve’s used both his and Bucky’s discarded ties to bind her arm down at the wrist and at the bend of her elbow, in case she gets second thoughts about her promise of good behavior. Bucky’s mouth quirks at the ingenuity, and his dick twitches at the optics. He’ll have to take a picture, one he’s got the ink in. A shot of her arm; reddened and bleeding with his mark, and his and Steve’s neckties framing it. Fuck, he might jerk off to it sometime.

He spends a minute getting the ink prepared, and then he carefully cleans her inner forearm and applies the stencil. It’s small but long, stretching almost the full length between the ties. It’ll take a good hour or more in its entirety, but Bucky isn’t a sadist: His little one has been through a lot, and they’ve got a long night ahead of them once they take her upstairs. Bucky wants that time to be spent mostly in pleasure, not pain. They’ll just do the outline, for now.

Lena whimpers when the paper peels back from her skin, revealing the design left behind. “Bucky,” she pleads, though one look up at him and her begging stalls. Bucky gives her a grim, apologetic look, and she knows. She knows she’s not getting out of this. She whines lowly and turns her face into Steve’s shoulder.

“Shhh,” he soothes her, his big arms wrapped tightly around her waist, comforting and restraining all at once. “You’ll be fine, hon. This is how it has to be.”

Bucky settles himself and the gun, then turns it on. Soon, the buzzing fills the small space between the three of them. In the background there’s still the noise of the club: music, chatter, bodies moving around. But in their little corner in the back, it almost feels private now that they’re centered around what Bucky’s about to do to her. “Okay, malyshka,” he murmurs, waiting until he’s got her full attention. “Watch the gun. Don’t want you jerking around in surprise.”

He’s a little taken aback by the emotions that hit, as he brings the needle down and starts inking her for the first time. He’s marking her permanently, branding her as his in a way that will never wash off, and from which she can never escape. And despite her tears and the ties binding her arm down, she is sitting there for him, allowing it. That goes straight to Bucky’s cock as sure as anything else he’s ever done to her, and he spends the rest of the session focusing on each line and curve, putting the red ink underneath her skin and trying to work out what it is that’s twisting up in his gut so bad. There’s lust and possessiveness, that much he expected, but there’s also a certain amount of … melancholy? Maybe. Whatever it is, it’s there too. A feeling of resolution, of an era coming to an end. Arousing and yet oddly bittersweet.

Lena’s fist is already clenched when he starts, but he can see her body stiffening further as the burn of the needle really sets in. Her arm flexes and her fingers curl harder into her palm, the veins popping against the strained lock of her inner elbow. Steve keeps up a gentle litany of praise and reassurance in her ear, half of which Bucky hears and half of which he misses due to his own focus on the gun. He’d love to take Steve’s place, be the one to hold her and comfort her through this, but that’s just not possible because he simply doesn’t trust anyone else to do the work.

He’s even glad that Natasha refused to do it, at this point. Because this isn’t just any tattoo. It’s personal and intimate. A promise as good as any wedding ring. Probably better-than, in the fidelity it’ll enforce. Not on Lena’s part, poor thing, but on the part of any man who might dare to entertain the idea of an affair with her. One look at her arm, and that idea would go straight up in smoke. These red words are branding her for life, in more ways than one. It’s only right that Bucky be the one to do it.

“Almost done,” he murmurs when he’s finishing up at her wrist. It’s the most painful area, and he regrets saving it for last. But his girl does beautifully and keeps relatively still, sometimes hissing or whining in pain but never asking for a break, and never twitching enough to throw Bucky off course. He finishes the outline and sits back, setting the gun aide on the cart and reaching for the salve. He smiles at his little one, who by now has stopped crying. “Good job, sweet pea,” he praises softly.

Her defenses are down from having all of her focus on something other than him for so long. She only blushes a little when he uses the nickname, and says nothing snarky back. Bucky’s heart pulls with it. In Steve’s lap, she watches as Bucky uses a tongue depressor to apply the salve in long, smooth strokes over the raw areas. She blinks at her arm like she’s fully waking from a dream. “... That’s it?” she asks, sounding surprised, maybe even disappointed—though that’s probably just Bucky’s wishful thinking.

“For now,” he tells her, bringing out the non-stick pads and adhesive wrap. He’s giving her all the aftercare that he’s neglected on himself—already the back of his neck and shoulders feels tight and unpleasant, and he doesn’t want the same for her. Steve pulls the ties loose to release her arm, and Bucky explains, “You have delicate skin, sweetheart. We’ll let this heal, fill it in another time. Add some other design elements, if you want.” He catches her look of surprise and smiles, then looks away before her expression can shutter on him. He gently applies the pads along her skin, wrapping her up in an opera glove’s length worth of neon pink animal print bandaging, nice and tight. “There you go.”

“Cheetah print, really?”

“Just special for you, my little hellcat. Don’t worry, you can take it off tomorrow.” He rolls out on the stool and goes around to stand just in front of the bench. Briefly, he meets Steve’s eyes, and they have a short, non-verbal conversation, at the end of which Steve nods smally in agreement. “Okay,” Bucky says, reaching out to palm Lena’s face.

She automatically goes to shirk away from it, but Steve whispers something in her ear—Bucky doesn’t hear what—and it makes her settle. She bites her lip and peeks up at Bucky through her lashes and ruined makeup. “I was good,” she whispers, like she’s half-sure Bucky’s going to revoke his end of the deal.

He tries not to let it show on his face, how that hurts him. “Yeah, sweetheart. You were very good.” He bends over to kiss the top of her head, then turns and searches out Belova. She’s standing next to Maximoff now, over at the bar. Bucky goes over and holds out his hand. Pietro shakes first, Yelena second. “Thank you,” he tells them. “For bringing her back safely.”

“Again,” Yelena says with a smirk and a semi-suppressed eyeroll.

“You should get a leash,” Pietro jokes.

“Or a homing beacon.”

Bucky waves them off (though the homing beacon idea has occurred before), telling them to go back to their drinks and enjoy their evening. He doesn’t bother asking if the Gleb issue’s been dealt with—he knows from the look on Belova’s face that it has.

Part four

Masterlist

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#marvel #mcu #bucky barnes #stucky #steve rogers #steve rogers x bucky barnes #fanfiction #fanfic #mob bucky barnes #mob bucky x reader #mafia au #mafia bucky barnes #mafia bucky x you #dark steve rogers #smut fic #dark fic #dark bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x oc #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x oc #bucky x ofc x steve #m/f/m #tattoos

[abbatoirablaze]

Delivered, Steve Rogers

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings:  smut, unprotected sex, breeding kink, minor manipulation, minor domination, dubcon/noncon relationship.

Part 3 of 3.

Part 1, Signed

Part 2, Sealed

“If there is any reason that anyone here should find that these two should not be joined today in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace!”

You looked at the congregation through your thick veil, and it was like a room full of crickets.  No one so much as even moved an inch.  Your heart thudded heavily in your chest as your eyes searched, prayed for someone to stand.

Your eyes snapped to Steve’s and you could see him grinning ear to ear as the priest continued, “Steven and (Y/N), you are now joined in holy matrimony.  I present you as Mr. and Mrs. Rogers.  Steven, you may kiss your bride.”

Steve was quick to raise your veil and sweep you into his arms and an even more intense, searing kiss.  One that instinctively had your eyes closing and your toes curling.  The passion both turned you on and made you sick.

While you wanted to hate him for it, it was like your mind went blank and you allowed yourself to lean into it.  You had hated him as children, but ever since the other night, there was something in you that made you drawn to him. 

As your thoughts wandered to how he went from the sickly child who could have been knocked over by wind that was too strong, to how he was nothing but one hundred percent man, you felt his hand slip a little lower from your waist to your ass as he spun you and pulled you back to his chest.  His fingers kneaded you through the fabric and he gave you a devious grin as your hands went up to tangle in his hair, he pulled away from you. 

You gave him an owlish look while the congregation made up of your family and friends cheered for your union, all of them unaware of the fact that you knew what he was going to do in just a few hours time.

“I’ve got so many plans for us!” he promised as he turned the two of you towards the congregation.  Steve raised your hand in his before pulling you towards the aisles so that the two of you could go to the reception.

You moaned as your husband’s cock kissed your cervix again and again.  Your eyes rolled into the back of your skull as your mouth fell open in a silent moan and your back arched away from the wall, he had you pressed into.

His panting was heavy, the warmth of his breath fanning heavily over your neck as he pressed open mouth kisses along the column of your throat, “Casso, principessa.  Sei cosi stretto.  La tua figa mi sta soffocando il cazzo.” (Fuck, princess.  Your pussy is choking my cock.)

“S-steve!” you whimpered, your nails digging into the fabric that covered his shoulders, “St-Steve.  Steve!”

“Giusto.  Gemi il mio nome!” (That’s right.  Moan my name.)

“I-I don’t-oh god!” you moaned as you tried to stave off your orgasm, “Steve-we-FUCK!”

You sobbed against your orgasm as it came crashing over you all over again.  His thick length driving so deep into you that you could feel him in your stomach.

He pulled away just enough for his lips to messily catch yours.

It was a battle of tongues and teeth as you tugged on his bottom lip with yours, needing to be dominative over something. 

He growled, his hips bucking deep inside of you.  Your core shuddered violently around his cock, and you let go of his plump bottom lip, moaning so loud you knew that your sisters had to have heard the impromptu consummation of your marriage before you even hit the reception.

“God, it’s so funny to see how the tables have turned after all these years,” Steve moaned as he broke the kiss yet again.  His hips stopped thrusting and you quickly came back to reality as his thumb grazed over your own swollen lips, “been in love with you since we were kids, and you acted like you hated me the whole time…but right now…fuck, princess…I bet I could have you begging on your knees for my cock…you wanna be a dirty little slut for me…for your husband.  You’re pretty little pussy is strangling my cock like it’s the only thing you need!”

You went to open your mouth, but his finger went over it.

“You don’t need to speak, sweetheart,” he smirked, keeping you silent.  His hand slid away from your mouth and down your throat.  You felt your cunt clenching around his cock as he stopped at the base of your throat.  His brow lifted as his eyes met yours once more, “I can tell what you like just by the way that tight little pussy clings to me…you like this…don’t you?  Like the idea of the danger even though you know I’d kill myself before I’d ever harm a hair on your head…is that what you wanna feel, princess?  Danger?  Wanna feel my hand on your throat as I fuck our future into you?  God, you have no idea what you do to me…what you’ve always done to me…you made me everything I am, princess…made me fight to be the man I am today!”

“Steve-“

“And fuck…that body,” he groaned, as his hands slid down your chest, cradling your breasts which had been pulled out of the corseted top of your dress earlier so that Steve could play with them, “god, you have a body made for sin…puberty did us both well, didn’t it, (Y/N)?”

Your eyes flickered down to his kiss swollen lips, and even lower to his chest, the fabric of which was straining over it.  The top button had been all but ripped open earlier in a fever as you pulled him into the closet, not knowing what had originally come over you.

His hands guided you to sit on his lap as soon as the two of you got into the limo. 

You didn’t expect him to be rock hard. 

Matter of fact, you had planned a very well-thought-out argument of how it was sexist for him to just assume you would be sitting on his lap. 

But it had quickly gone out the window when you felt his hardened member even through the fabric of your dress. 

And the look that he gave you…

It made you want to take him in the limo.

What was coming over you?  And why were you becoming crazy over the man you hated as a child?

“We only have a few minutes,” he reminded you with a soft taunt as his hands ran up your chest.  He smiled even more, seeing the tops of your breasts over the top of the corseted dress.  He leaned forward, pressing gentle kisses on the tops of them.  You shivered as his scruff gently scratched at your delicate skin, “so beautiful.”

“Ste-“

“Don’t speak,” he begged as he pressed his lips to yours in a hurried kiss.  His hands slid up your body and he massaged your breasts before pulling one out, his mouth making quick work of kissing the exposed flesh until your nipple hardened under his touch, “I’m going to show you the world I built for us…and that starts with me making sure you never doubt how much of a man I am, again!  Right now…I want you to feel that manhood…do you feel it, princess?”

You moaned out a yes, nodding as he took your nipple in his mouth.  He held you firmly on his lap, grinding his hips upward and rocking against you through your separate clothing, while he tugged on your nipple ever so lightly as his hands wrapped around your waist so that he could bury his face against your chest. 

You were having sensory overload.

How did he know what to do to drive you crazy?

“I’ve got so much in store for us,” he moaned as he latched onto your breast once more.  Your eyes widened as he tugged your nipple between his teeth, teasing the sensitive nub.  Your hands went to his hair, tangling in the sandy tresses, “oh god…keep tugging on my hair like that…I’m already so close to filling you up…give me a reason to not stop until I know you’re pregnant.”

Your eyes went wide, and like being doused in cold water, you sobered up immediately, attempting to push him away from yourself, “Steve…wait.  I don’t-“

“No, no…” he pressed on as you squirmed against him, “we can’t stop now…not with how your pretty little pussy is milking me…that cunt wants to be full of me…and I’m going to give her everything she wants!  I promised to build us a future when we were younger…it starts here…now!”

“S-Steve…stop!”

“Gonna give you everything, my love,” he promised as he closed in on his own high, “and it all starts tonight…first thing I gave you was my last name…now I’m giving you a baby!  Maybe if we’re lucky it’ll be more than one…”

“St-“

He was quick to cover your mouth, and you bit back another whimper as you felt his cock twitch inside of you.

Your stomach turned as you heard how the announcements for your reception had started, and your brother Bucky was introduced with his wife.  Your heart broke as you knew that just a few feet away your family and friends were joyously awaiting your entrance as ‘Mrs. Rogers,’ while your new husband was having his way with you…doing whatever he wanted.

“FUCK!” he groaned, pressing his forehead against yours.  You whimpered even more as you felt the warmth of his spend making your stomach feel full.  His face flushed, and he looked at you through sweetly sinister eyes.  His other free hand stroked your cheek as a tear slipped down it, “oh baby…don’t cry…we’re married.  This-this was what we were meant to do, right?  Build up the five families…can’t build up the families if we aren’t making one ourselves…but don’t you worry, okay?  Tonight’s just the start…I know we don’t have much time. Shit…I think I heard them announce Buck…”

He removed his hand and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips as he pulled out of you. 

You felt hollow as he tucked his softening cock back into his pants and quickly moved towards the door.  You could see just over his shoulder as the door to the reception opened once more, and they announced your sister Becca and her husband, Thor. 

You pushed your dress back down over your lower half while you felt Steve’s cum starting to drip down your inner thigh. 

He closed the door and rushed back to you, pressing another kiss to your lips as he straightened out his tie and then helped lift the top half of the dress once more so your breasts were contained in it, “we’ll pick this back up on the way to our honeymoon…promise…have a good little flight all lined up…we’ll christen the whole thing!”

“H-honeymoon?”

Steve smirked as he fixed your veil, placing it back on your head, “of course…I mean, if tonight didn’t take, I know we’ll at least have another month at one of my family’s estates in Tuscany…god you’ll love it there…nothing like those dreary old brownstones your parents have in London.”

You felt a fear raising up in your stomach as you looked at him, “Wh-what do you mean?’

“Baby…one way or another, before Christmas, we’re announcing the fact that there will be a new little Rogers baby…I told you I’m going to give you everything,” Steve smiled, “I told your father that the day that he agreed to let me marry you.  I promised all of us a legacy.  And we’re only just getting started.  Now come on…we can’t miss our own entrance.”

You felt like a robot as he took your hand in his and ushered you out of the room.  Winnie and Clint had just been introduced as your elder sister Bethany looked at you over her shoulder.  She gave you a sympathetic look as her hand fell to her own stomach. 

It was like she knew what you were going through because she had gone through the same things. 

It was then that you noticed the way that Sam was holding her.  It wasn’t romantic, but possessive. 

Had all of your sisters gone through the same thing?

‘It’ll be okay,’ she mouthed to you as the door opened yet again and the MC announced her and Sam, ‘I love you.’

Steve wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you towards him in the same way that Sam had held your sister, and your stomach turned yet again as he gave you a smirk, “looks like we’re next, Mrs. Rogers.   You ready?”

#marvel au #marvel #the avengers #steve rogers #captain america #signed sealed delivered #mob au #mafia au #dark steve rogers #steve rogers smut

[jtargaryen18]

His Inheritance: Chapter 26

Part 26: Duplicity

Series Masterlist

Words: 4.3k

Pairing: Mobster Steve Rogers x Mobster daughter reader

Warnings: References to illegal prescription drug use, firearm use, and deception. This is a dark fic. Please read responsibly.

Disclaimer: The author of this work claims no ownership of characters aside from the reader, and original secondary characters mentioned. This work is not intended for those under the age of 18 due to explicit sexual content and darker themes. By reading this work or any works on my blog (jtargaryen18), you agree that you are at least 18 years of age. I do not consent to have my work hosted on any third party app or site. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but archiveofourown and tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission.

Summary: For @alexakeyloveloki. Your father is the head of one of the most powerful crime families in Boston but he’s protected you from that life. In your quiet home outside the city, you’ve been cared for and protected. When the desires of a more powerful man with the will to dominate bursts into your life, all your illusions are shattered as he comes to claim what is his.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 26

Dark dreams pulled Steve from sleep. It was 3:37 AM according to his phone.

With a sigh, he pulled himself out of bed, propping his pillow behind his wife’s back in his place. She was sound asleep and that had him smiling. The night before in the bath had been delicious. He had her again later in bed.

She’d need to sleep in after that.

So much raw emotion welled up in his chest as he watched her. His wife took up a lot of room when she slept, sprawling over the bed at night. Over him. He loved it, especially now that she mostly slept nude as he did. She was beautiful, her radiance and confidence growing by the day.

As he got dressed, he kept stealing glances at her. She’d brought a hell of a lot more than just status into his life. His wife challenged him. She challenged everyone. As delicate as she appeared now, asleep in his bed, she was formidable as a lioness, especially when defending those she cared about.

Steve couldn’t wait to have children with her. How fierce would their sons be? Hell, his daughters would be fierce too. He hoped they looked like her.

Making his way downstairs, thoughts of the family he wanted faded like dreams as he reached his study, returning to reality. Wincing in the light when he flicked it on, he saw the office was just as neat and sterile as it had ever been. Steve always had strict rules about who was allowed in his study, just like his father had.

Those rules didn’t apply to his wife, he realized, who came and went from his center of business as she damn well pleased.

Those memories he loved. Holding her in his chair, spanking her over the desk. Twice. That last one had to led to him just taking her like a beast on that refined wooden surface. It had him stirring just thinking about it. Steve wanted more memories like that. He wanted more.

What would it be like seeing toys littering the floor one day? Or to have little drawings left for him on his desk?

With a deep sigh, he sank heavily into his chair.

Ever since his wife had entered his life, she’d blurred the lines between his personal life and business. Steve walked a fine line between frustration and ecstasy the entire time with her, his need for her so often consuming his thoughts.

In the meantime, everything he thought he had control of was unraveling.

Barnes was coming for him, swiftly and methodically, and he needed to deal with that before he lost respect and credibility in that dark world. The fact that his rival was getting away with hitting his turf made Steve look weak, incompetent. Barnes striking his home, his family’s home, demanded a harsh answer. His leadership of the families would be defined by the decision he made here.

But Steve also needed to protect his family. And hadn’t he done a poor job of that lately? His sister had been severely beaten by her husband and before that Clint had been shot. Hansen’s attack on their home left Belova and Dyson both laid up.

His enemies seemed as obsessed with his wife as he was. If Hansen had gotten his hands on her…

Barnes had more than adequately demonstrated that no one was beyond his reach.

That had to change.

Steve had tried to be diplomatic in calling the meeting with the other family leaders. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. Why was he trying to win the other families over when at least one of them was gunning for his?

“Up early, boss?” Luca looked in, making Steve realize he didn’t remember to close the door.

Steve nodded.

The portly cook walked just inside the office door. It was the only time of the day he ever saw the man in a pristine white apron.

“Your father used to do the same thing. Couldn’t sleep the night before. He’d just get up and get started. Always admired that about him.”

Steve snorted. “Probably never found himself in a situation this fucked up.”

“Sure he did,” Luca told him. “Someone challenged him, he hit them hard, and he hit them fast. That’s all. No mercy. No regrets.”

Luca made it sound so easy.

“You got a new consigliere yet?” Luca asked.

Steve nodded. “I’m going with Murdock.”

Luca nodded his approval. “Good choice. We’ll see what he’s made of these next few weeks.”

That was an understatement.

“I’m calling a meeting this evening,” Steve told him. “If I remember right Dyson’s going to get medical tests this morning?”

“That’s right,” the cook said. “Him and Belova both. They should be back from the hospital by this afternoon. We sending Scott with them?”

Steve shook his head. “I’ll be here all day. Send Neal.”

Luca nodded, closing the door behind him on the way out of the office.

Steve would spend some time getting his thoughts together. Then, with his crew, they’d decide how best to deal with Barnes.

***

Dyson smiled when she made her way from the exam room back out to the waiting area.

“How did it go?” he asked.

Yelena smiled back. “The CT scan didn’t show any damage. They also did a Brain Trauma Indicator test, but it will be a couple of days before we get the results of that.”

Dyson rose from his chair, and she hoped that meant they were ready to head back to the house. While she took some comfort from the fact that Mrs. Rogers’ husband was there with her – and she had Scott, Luca, and Clint – things were just so tense right now. So dangerous.

She would feel much better once she got back.

Dyson shrugged as they walked out of the office area to head back into the reception area of the hospital. “I’m just old.”

He laughed with her as they found the lobby where there were gift shops, a cafeteria, and an information desk. Neal sat not far from that desk with the paper in his hand. So much for being there to keep her and Dyson safe. He looked like he could really care less.

Neal couldn’t have cared less when Bruce Banner had been about to knock the shit out of her boss. Scott pulled Mrs. Rogers back but that wouldn’t have stopped him. And she was still cursing herself for not hearing the commotion sooner than she did.

Neal noticed the two of them a beat before they reached him. Dyson cleared his throat loudly, telling Yelena he was as unhappy with the soldier as she was.

“Ready to go?” Neal sounded bored.

“Yeah,” Dyson grumbled. “Go get the car, will ya?”

Yelena was hard put not to laugh as Neal glared at him, folding up the paper. His knuckles were white as he gripped that paper and marched toward the exit to do as he was told.

Just as he was walking out the electric doors at the hospital’s entrance, a familiar figure in teal-colored scrubs was walking in. Agnes spotted Yelena in an instant, smiling brightly.

Her heart nearly stopped in her chest.

Of course Neal recognized her, slowing down and glancing over his shoulder to get a good look. He would remember she came to the Rogers’ home. He’d already mentioned thinking she looked familiar. It wouldn’t be hard for him to put the pieces together and figure out why she really came that day.

It was the worst timing imaginable.

Dyson didn’t know either, so she had to fake a smile when Agnes walked up. It wasn’t her fault, and Yelena talked to her for moment. Her ID badge announcing her position as an RN was right there in plain sight.

“Let me know when the lady of the house needs another manicure,” Agnes said, a big wink and then she headed off to work.

Beyond the glass entrance, she could see Neal pulled up to the door in the car. She felt Dyson’s attention on her. She took a step but his hand on his shoulder stayed her.

“That’s the lady you brought to the house to do Mrs. Rogers manicure?” he asked.

Yelena nodded. “She does it as a side hustle,” she tried.

“She’s an RN according to her badge,” Dyson pointed out.

She shrugged, turning to meet his gaze. “So? She does a good job. Mrs. Rogers was happy with how her nails turned out.”

Yelena tried to continue walking. This time Dyson jerked her to a halt.

“Please tell me you didn’t do what I think you did,” he said, dead serious.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Yelena played dumb. She wasn’t counting on it to work but she had to try.

“Yes, you do.” Dyson blew out an exhale.

Yelena shook her head. “Mrs. Rogers is perfectly healthy. What other reason would I have to bring Agnes to the house?”

“To make it so Mrs. Rogers don’t get pregnant,” Dyson said, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Oh, my God. Do you know how bad this is?”

Yelena didn’t deny it. But she didn’t drop her gaze. The deed was done now. What did he expect her to say?

“Did she put you up to this?” he asked.

Now her heart slammed on her chest. If she said yes and this went as badly as she suspected it was about to, Yelena would have betrayed Mrs. Rogers. And she couldn’t live with that.

But if she said it was her own idea, and it most definitely was, she jeopardized her own position. And Lloyd was still out there. And Dyson knew it.

“Fuck,” Dyson muttered a little too loudly. “You know Neal recognized your nurse friend, right?”

She wasn’t stupid.

“The trick here is to keep him from telling the boss what he thinks happened here,” Dyson explained. “And he’ll think exactly what I think.”

Now Yelena was seeing red. “I know he’d like nothing better than getting Mrs. Rogers in trouble with her husband.”

She could tell Dyson didn’t expect her to say that, but it was the truth.

“When Banner showed up at the house, the only one protecting her from him was Lang,” she insisted. “I was down there as soon as I heard the commotion. Neal? He would have let Banner have her.”

Now the older man looked appalled. “Why the fuck would he do that?”

“Because he doesn’t like Mrs. Rogers,” Yelena said. “And he doesn’t appear to have her best interests at heart. That puts her in danger because the boss trusts him implicitly.”

“Neal’s earned that,” Dyson replied.

“So much so that the boss should choose him over his own wife?”

Dyson shook his head. “Come on.” He motioned towards the car with Neal watching them from the driver’s seat. “I got to try and get to the boss before Neal does or there will be absolute hell to pay.”

She was all too afraid he was right.

“He’s going to ask if there was a problem,” Dyson instructed her. “When he does, you act pissy. I’ll tell him you didn’t get one of the tests I wanted you to. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

Sending up every prayer she knew, Yelena followed him out to the car.

***

You made it back to your room, still winded because you’d practiced for nearly two hours today. Sitting on the edge of your bed, you removed your pointe shoes, the band-aids and tape beneath. You winced at the fresh blister forming on the outside of the smallest toe on your left foot.

What you’d planned to wear the rest of the day was already laid out on your bed, you just needed undergarments and socks and you’d be ready to shower. You smiled when you opened the drawer where you kept your intimates to see the satin red thong there that went with the teddy you bought in New York for Valentine’s Day last week.

Well, Steve bought it for you after surprising you in the city when you thought you’d catch holy hell for being out of the house.

What a night that had been. Your heart still fluttered to think about it.

The hum of your phone on your bedside table got your attention. Maybe it was Yelena. You hoped her and Dyson’s medical tests went well.

The text was from Yelena, but it stopped you in your tracks.

I'm so sorry.

You stared at the text message from Yelena on your phone, wondering what the hell that meant. Your heart was sped up as you typed a reply asking if she and Dyson were okay.

You heard voices beyond your window. Peering out, you saw the black Jeep had pulled up, watched your husband climb out and march towards the front door. You hadn’t realized he left the house, but he sure seemed on a mission to return to it.

We are fine. I’m worried about you.

What?

Her next text came a beat later.

Neal figured out who Agnes is.

You froze in place. Holy shit. If Neal knew who Agnes really was, he had an idea of why she came to your house. And if he didn’t figure it out, Steve would.

Telling Steve would be the first thing Neal would do with that information.

Steve’s tread was loud on the stairs, pounding in time with your heart. Steve was coming and you had nowhere to go, no time to prepare.

The door of your shared bedroom flew open, and Steve slammed it behind him, his face flushed from the cold, from anger. His blue-eyed gaze found you fast, and there you stood in leotard, leggings, and bare feet. You were sweaty, tired, with your hair pulled back from your face.

As much of a sweaty mess as you were, your husband looked as well-groomed as always. He peeled off the leather jacket he wore and tossed it over the chair at your vanity. The deep wine of the sweater he wore with jeans emphasized the angry color seeping out of his collar.

Dropping your phone on the edge of your bed, you folded your arms across your chest, bracing yourself for the storm that was coming.

Steve took in your stance. A muscle at his jaw flexed.

“We need to talk,” he said with a tight voice.

You just nodded. What else could you do?

You calm demeanor only seemed to piss him off more.

“Tell me about your manicure a few weeks ago,” Steve demanded, moving closer to the bed.

You held your ground. You didn’t like the way he was trying to set you up.

“I already did,” you said. “You said you liked my nails. Remember?”

His scowl deepened. “What was the woman’s name?”

“Agnes.”

“And was this manicure your idea?” Bitterness crept into his tone.

It was hard to hold your tongue. That question put you on the spot. If you said no, and you were pretty sure you told him Yelena arranged it to lift your spirits, he would get rid of her. And you needed her. As your friend and as a protector.

That meant you had to take the blame. And you weren’t sure you were ready for the consequences of that…

“It was,” you said finally. It wasn’t entirely true, but it was the course you chose.

Steve paused, surprised at your admission. His throat worked as he swallowed hard, just staring at you.

“She did more than your nails.” Steve shook his head. “The injection is good for three months, right?”

Wait. Agnes said that there would be no medical record of the injection. Had she lied to you? Or did he…?

“How do you know it was an injection?” you had to ask.

“Neal paid Agnes a visit at the hospital today.”

Steve knew everything.

“What did Neal do?” You were seeing red now. “Agnes isn’t in this. If he hurt her...”

“Neal warned her,” Steve told you.

Neal was intimidating. The poor woman just came to do you a favor.

“Neal is good at subduing women,” you told him. “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning he wasn’t so quick to protect me when Banner stormed in this house,” you said. “Scott pulled me away. Yelena saved me.”

“Don’t try to shift the blame for this to Neal,” Steve said. “Neal has proven his loyalty to me.”

“I’m not one of your men,” you shot back. “I’m your wife.”

“And a wife’s duty is to give her husband a family. To take care of that family.” New emotion entered his voice. He wasn’t just angry. “Why? Why would you go behind my back and do this?”

You shook your head, frustration welling up in you fast. Was he serious?

When you didn’t say anything, he charged forward, grabbing your chin in his large hand. His grip hurt as he pulled you to him by your face.

“You know what I want,” he said angrily, his face inches from yours. “Every time I’ve made love to you, I was hoping that was it. That was the one. And it would only be a few weeks after that when you’d be waiting here for me for a different reason. To tell me I was going to be a father.”

When he shoved you away from him hard, you stumbled back. The bed was right behind you, and you tumbled onto the edge of it.

“But here we are,” he growled.

Your own temper flared at that. You were going to be punished for this. You knew that. You weren’t going meekly. You weren’t just handing him a victory like he’d been handed everything else in his goddamn life.

“Here we are,” you said. “And once again, it’s all about what you want. About what you expect.”

“Enough!” he yelled. “This is the part where you remind me that you had no choices. I know. Your father hid you away and then I forced you to marry me. And I’m sorry, I truly am, that he didn’t even try to be a father to you.”

The venom in his voice told you he wasn’t trying to make you feel better. Steve’s fury was palpable, you could feel it coming off him in waves.

“Want to know what I regret?” Steve asked. “I regret that he didn’t try to prepare you for the world. He should have taught you your place.”

You would have agreed with him if you hadn’t been so angry yourself.

“No, he did just what he was supposed to, according to you. He didn’t spend time with my mother, or my brother and I from what I hear. She tried to get us out of your world.”

“She found a lover.” Steve moved closer. “If she hadn’t done that, maybe she and your brother would still be alive.”

Jumping off the end of the bed, you marched forward and slapped him across the face with all your strength. It was satisfying to see his head turn with your blow, but he was quick to recover.

“I wasn’t prepared,” you told him angrily. “I haven’t been married before. I never had a lover before. You’ve had many. You’ve had time to enjoy life and learn what you like, what you want. You’re at a place in life where you want to start a family. I haven’t had that time or experience. What? I was just supposed to spread my legs and pop out babies because that’s what you wanted?”

“You didn’t have a lot of experiences in your life,” Steve pointed out. “I considered it an advantage.”

You snorted. “I’m sure you did.”

“Somehow all of this lack of experiences wasn’t a problem until you married me,” he said.

“Is that what you thought?” you asked. “I’d go from being his hidden little girl to your dutiful wife? That just makes you naïve.”

Scrubbing a hand over his beard, Steve stared you down. “You might have a point there. I was naïve in just letting you run free in this marriage. Letting you do what you wanted.”

“I’ve asked for so much,” you shot back, sarcasm bleeding into your tone.

“I gave you the bodyguard you wanted,” Steve snapped. “I had to find out she was training you with weapons when Hansen attacked my home. You hid that from me. I allowed it. Now I find out you hid your little contraceptive shot from me. I can’t trust you. What else have you hidden or lied to me about?”

Steve was right. You had hidden things from him.

“What is your problem with starting a family?” he wanted to know. His gaze swept over you. “What else are you going to do? You’re fit. You could probably have children and get right back in shape after.”

“So I’m vain?” you asked.

“Are you?” Steve asked. “You’ll have the best doctors, the best care. You can hire personal trainers if you're worried about your figure. We can hire people to help you with them once they're born. Nannies, tutors. Whatever you want.”

Now you were staring him down. “Don’t you know how that sounds? You want us to be parents and you’re already planning on how to let other people raise them.”

“Excuse me?” That pissed him off.

“I had all of that,” you said. “Nannies, tutors, governesses. What I didn’t have was a good relationship with my father. I didn’t have a mother or a sibling because of your world. I’m not saying I don’t want children one day. But I’d like to reach the point you have where I’ve lived a life and I’m ready for that.”

“Did you ever think of trying to tell me that? I thought we were finally on the same page. That we wanted the same things. You let me believe that,” he said bitterly.

“Would you have listened?” you asked. “And maybe I did let you believe that I could pregnant. But I was afraid. How could I enjoy sex when each time I was worried that would be the one? And I’d be pushed into something I wasn’t ready for. Responsible for a child.”

The hurt showing on his face surprised you. “You enjoyed sex with me because you knew you weren’t going to get pregnant?”

Your heart lurched. You felt like so much was riding on your answer, and you were angry.

But it was truth, damn it. Hiding things was how you got here.

“Yes,” you said slowly. “I would hope you’d understand why. I wasn’t even familiar with sex. I just wanted time.”

“You just wanted to take control away from me.” Steve’s glare made you pause.

“I thought you wanted me to trust you? You said you hoped one day this marriage would be something I needed too.”

“I thought you loved me,” he said with a finality that had fear spiking in you.

Faster than you could blink, Steve snatched your phone off the bed and shoved it into the pocket of his jeans. The speed of his movements had you flinching. He noticed.

“What are you doing?” you asked, sounding way less confident now.

“Taking control of my household,” he said coldly. “Just like I’m getting ready to take care of business with the families. What do you think I’m doing?”

You swallowed hard. Steve’s gaze on you was assessing. He could read you so easily.

“Thought I’d spank you?” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I think you’d enjoy that.”

Humiliation had your face heating up, remember the last one that you’d provoked.

“I should have done this from the beginning.”

“What do you mean?” you had to ask.

Steve moved back, putting a distance between you.

“Your injection is good for another four weeks,” he said. “We’ll resume our marriage then.”

What?

“Resume our marriage?” Your voice pitched higher than you would have like. But he caught you off guard. “What does that mean?”

“That means when that shot has reached the end of its efficacy, I’ll be back. Until then, you’ll stay in this room. My men will bring you meals and anything you need for toiletries and supplies. But that’s it.”

Oh, this wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all.

“Your men?” You had to be careful now. “What about Yelena?”

“She’s done,” Steve said curtly. “She’s worked her last day in this house. She just makes you worse.”

Tears stung the backs of your eyes. It was exactly what you feared.

“You can watch television but I have your phone,” Steve continued. “And your laptop is downstairs.”

And he was cutting you off from the rest of the world, from any support. Tears streamed from your eyes. Some from regret, most from anger. You blinked them back as you considered the weeks ahead.

And what you’d done to Yelena. What if losing this job put her in danger? What if Hansen got to her?

“When I come back, we will get to work on starting a family,” he informed you. “Just maybe you’ll be more grateful by then.”

“Or I’ll hate you.”

Steve shook his head, marching for the door of the bedroom you’d been sharing. “I’ll find another place to sleep in the meantime.”

“I’m sure you will,” you said through your tears. Visions of him with Kat flashed in your mind, threatening to break you.

And with that Steve marched out of the room. You heard the lock turn a beat later.

@valsworldofcreativity @21stcenturywitchcraft @coconutqueen21 @buckybarnesplumwhore @bval-1 @caffiend-queen @candy-and-writing @capsicle-shield @chaoticfiretaconerd @chrisevansgirl @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @coldmuffinbanditshoe @daughterofthenight117 @hv-chw3 @iheartsebastianstanstuff @imanuglywombat @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @justrae9903 @lok1sgrl @lokislastlove @mariaenchanted @marvelouspottering @maxwelllee2020 @nannies-dont-date @nekoannie-chan @nerdwholikesword @notyourtypicalrose @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho @peaceinourtime82 @rainbowkisses31 @rayofdawnworld @richonne4life @rissysthoughts-blog @saiyanprincessswanie @scarletsoldier21-blog @shygirl-000 @supernaturaldean677 @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @team-iron-wannabe-man @titty-teetee @tonib666 @villanellevi @vitamingummies @weebid @what-is-your-plan-today @what-is-your-wish @xoxabs88xox @rosalynshields @naturalthrone22 @marvelovernfan @gotnofucks @nekoannie-chan @capicheleo20 @eralen @helenasmirkedno @samwinter09 @kawairinrin @tinystudentfirepurse @bluemusickid @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @geminievans1 @daughterofthenight117 @sunmoonandbucky @dwights-new-plague @akkinda10 @aubageddon91 @sunflowerstony @jennisahoe @kalesrebellion @candy3002 @tardis-23 @wish-i-was-a-mermaid @cynic-spirit @angstsfordays @tamashigirl @akkinda10 @laurenreadsfics @buckysteveloki-me @justlifethingsx @dancer3205 @shtposting101 @iloveshawnieboi @denisemarieangelina @moonlacebeam @btitannaaaaa @pastathighs @pinkzsugar @lunamyangel @siriusjohnpotter @bababasti @priii @retrxbarnes @norababora @savinasavers @holl2712 @4charmed @janelongxox @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @sarcasmoverlordxo @iridescentwafflesauce @ajbunky @dontbescaredtosingalong @candy3002 @joossieisdabomb icrytomuch @buckybuckobucky @nonsensicalobsessions @Bebop282 @onceuponahuntersrealm @crashbarbie @valsworldofcreativity @sunflower-writings @siriusjohnpotter @naelovescandy @rootcrop @traceyaudette @dre6ming @ajdjshei @saraaras17 @broadwaybabe18 @pbeckn26 @ughdontbeboring @terry2227 @beyoutiful9413 @winesex @eclipsxntice @missaprilt23 @Tardisin221bst @Sunflowersoldat @sanfransolomitatm @angrykitsune01 @jesgisborne @lilac-monster @samxira @steverogersismycrush @prettywhenicry4 @lalaooopsie @kboogie98 @captainkimmy87 @lowkeysebby @liecastillo @saranghaey @traceyaudette@ ktrivia @@wintasssoldier @andydrysdalerogers @patzammit

#His Inheritance #Mafia AU #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #Lloyd Hansen #dark fic

[huffelpuff210]

His Obsession

His Obsession 

Chapter 1

:Jordan didn’t exactly know what she was getting into when she accidentally bumped into Bucky Barnes aka The king of New York the boss of the Mafia 

Warning:Stalking, kidnapping, Forced relationship, Forced Marriage, NonCon.

You were running down the street bumping into people every now and again. 

“Excuse me. Sorry.” You say as you continue to run

You were running late. You are a RN in the Emergency room. Working sometimes double even triple shifts. Not really having a personal life, Always working and if you weren’t working you were home sleeping. 

You turn the corner only to be knocked off you’re feet, about to fall on you’re ass. 

But you were quickly caught by the wrist and quickly pulled to you’re feet. 

“Sorry about that.” You hear 

You look up and see a man in a black suit. Rings on his left hand. Tattoo on the top of his left hand and it loos like it goes up his arm the way it disappears from the sleeves of his suit. 

He had dark hair that was almost shoulder length and icy blue eyes. 

“Oh no I’m sorry I wasn’t watching where I was going.” You say as you smile at him. 

You’re watch beeps. 

“Oh sugar plumbs I’m late! Sorry I have to go thank you for saving me from a nasty fall.” You say as you run down the street. 

Bucky watches as you disappear in the crowd of people A smirk on his face. He didn’t think there was anyone in this city that could smile at him like that. Most people take one look at him and shiver in fear. It did something to him, You’re long dark hair and Jade green eyes that reminded him of freshly cut grass, 

He didn’t fail to notice You’re name tag, Jordan Cross He smirked 

“I’ll be seeing you real soon doll.” He smirked 

He pulls out his phone hitting the contact number. 

“Natasha I need you to find an address for me.Jordan Cross She works at Mercy Hospital” He says 

“Okay, Text it to me when you find it.” He says hanging up the phone

He smirked knowing that he just found the one person that wasn’t aware of who he was or the profession he was in. 

It didn’t take long to locate you’re apartment, And it didn’t take much effort to get the key from the manager, All he had to do was give him a look. Which was very concerning. As he looked around you’re house he noticed there wasn’t much. No picture’s on the walls. The fridge and cabinets were empty. A TV and love seat in the main room, A a queen size bed in the bedroom. 

“Seems pretty basic.” Steve says as they look around

“But no personality to it.” Nat says 

“Start hiding the cameras.” Bucky says everyone nods 

You were dead tired after working a double shift. All you wanted to do was shower and sleep screw eating it was way too much work. 

You unlock you’re door shuffling to the bathroom stripping you’re scrubs off and jumping in the shower for a much needed shower. 

After you’re quick shower you dress into a pair of plaid black and white shorts and you’re old collage jersey. Flopping on the bed without covering up you just fall into a deep sleep. But unknown to you, Bucky stood over you, His knuckles brushing against you’re cheek. 

“Soon doll. Soon You’ll be mine.” He whispers with a small smile on his face.

The next day you were running late again, Rushing out the door, and running down the streets to the hospital, You always end up shutting you’re alarm off to get a little extra sleep, You’re boss doesn’t ever give you a day off or ever cut you any slack when you are late he retaliates by making you work a double shift, He’s a complete tool in you’re eyes anyway, Bucky watched as you ran past the many people on the side walk bumping into a few on the way. He smiled knowing he was going to bide his time to set his plan into motion, He had been waiting to find someone like you for a very long time and He knew that you were a hard working woman who barley had a social or private life because of you’re job. From what he dug up on you you’re mother died when you were only five years old leaving you to be raised by you’re step father. In and out of the hospital a lot with mysterious injuries broken arm, cracked ribs, broken tail bone, the list went on and on it’s no mystery what was going on, You left for collage at the age of eighteen, graduating not long after. went for you’re clinical at the same hospital you currently work at now. Never had a vacation or personal day. This was a bit concerning for Bucky you didn’t have a life, all you did was work and sleep, hell you barley had any food in you’re apartment. He knew tonight he was going to take you away from this life, that you were going to have a better life with him and his men. You wouldn’t have to work hard just to get by anymore he was going to make sure of that if it was the last thing he did. He smiled and walked towards you’re apartment. 

He made himself comfortable sitting in you’re love seat in the main room and waited 

You sighed grabbing you’re purse and walking out of the hospital Eric you’re boss made you work a triple shift you were exhausted, You have a bruise on you’re bicep from him grabbing you when he called you to his office when you were late today. He said one more time and you are fired. What does he expect you work double sometimes triple shifts then he expects you to come in the same day after only a few hours of sleep. 

You unlock you’re apartment door, closing it behind you setting you’re purse on the counter. When a hand covers you’re mouth. 

“You’re late doll.” You hear from behind you. 

You try to struggle but the intruder was too strong you feel a prick in you’re neck and you can feel yourself getting weak and tired 

“Don’t worry doll you’ll be home soon.” Was the last thing you hear before falling into a deep slumber.

#dark bucky x reader #dark bucky barnes #dark steve rogers #dark avengers #innocent reader #dark marvel #original character #mafia bucky barnes #mafia boss #cjand10

[soft-and-bitter]

Not for the first time, you realize just how badly you need to escape from Steve. You have to, before he decides to turn a passing comment into reality and you’ll be trapped with him forever.

The Cure & The Cause

Mafia!Steve x Captive!Reader

Word Count: ~2k

Notes/warning(s): some sexual content, coercion, Steve is sweet but a little psycho, no plot just vibes. Reader’s been kidnapped by Steve and is being held captive for a bit before story begins. Part of the same universe that Failed Bargaining belongs to.

If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging or leaving some feedback, thanks! ❤

When the car rolls up to the curb and a member of Steve’s unit opens the door, Sharon exits first before it’s your turn. You’ve barely stepped out of the black Range Rover before several bodyguards usher you towards the entrance of the multi-storied boutique, but the small stretch of sidewalk you cross is simply not enough for you to attempt an escape. Figures.

You’ve only ever gone shopping for a wedding dress once, when you had accompanied your best friend in search of hers. But with the costs of her traditional wedding adding up quickly, Lisa had been forced to make some concessions where her dress was concerned. Her final choice was still lovely, in the end, though admittedly it wasn’t perfect in every capacity that she’d envisioned.

As soon as you step foot into the bridal boutique, you realize right away that whatever financial concerns Lisa had during her own wedding planning, Sharon will not have. Money is, quite frankly, the least of her worries. For starters, Sharon is one of Steve’s highest-ranking, and she’s getting married to Sam, so it’s no surprise that all the stops have been pulled out. This upscale boutique is apparently one of many salons she has in mind to visit, but already it’s proving to be the most impressive. 

“We have the whole place to ourselves,” Sharon mentions with uncharacteristic giddiness, just as you and the rest of the group settle into plush white sofas. You thought that that in itself spoke to Steve’s influence and wealth, but when the senior manager in her stylish black dress and six-inch heels pops open a bottle of Dom Perignon circa 1996, you’re left wondering how much of Steve’s largesse these people are truly hoping for. 

Together with the champagne, the store’s personnel offer you and the others an assortment of French pastries while Sharon gets into her first dress. A collection of them has already been set aside for her based on previous consultations, but today is when she gets to try them on. You’re already reaching for your second flute when you think that for just a second, you want to imagine that this is all a normal picture, that these women you’re here with—Sharon, Nat, Wanda and Sarah—are in fact your girlfriends, rather than accomplices to your captivity. That without him present, you might just be able to subscribe to the illusion. Combined with the right amount of ridiculously expensive champagne, it’s more than possible. 

This scares you more than you want to admit. Mostly because you’re stuck realizing how lonely you’ve been up to this point, even before Steve decided to take you, but also how your perception of your captivity is beginning to morph into something less depraved, a jagged picture where the edges are becoming dulled. 

You swallow down another bit of champagne in response, and then a little bit more; the next thing you know, time is flying by and your reaction at every dress Sharon steps out in gets more expressive, louder. Somewhere along the way you even end up in Nat’s lap, arms flung over her shoulder, the both of you choking on laughter at a snide comment Sharon’s made about the gown that Wanda—yes, her—has chosen to try on. It’s the very portrait of idealized friendship, of closeness and devotion and support. Of course you want to believe all this, even if only for a minute.

“It looks like you ladies have gone through most of the champagne I sent,” says a low, timbrous voice that slices through the racket of laughter and loud talk.

You, together with everyone else, process Steve’s sudden presence in the salon at the same moment, only your reaction is nowhere near as positive. Amongst the wild cheers and drunken shrieks that the other women let out, you merely stare at him with your mouth agape, blinking at the sight of him in the doorway, Bucky lingering not so far behind. Rather than disappointment, your brain can only process how fucking handsome this man is, how the top of his head nearly grazes the lintel as he enters, every step full of confidence. You’re completely out of his league, your brain foggily reminds you, though you know that—just like you know what’s beneath the gray suit he’s wearing, the one tailored to perfection. 

More treacherous thoughts, you realize, just like most of them today.  

“It feels like I’ve stepped into a party,” Steve says, rounding a sofa to enter the fray. His blue eyes cut to you, take in your place on Nat’s lap and the way you’re holding on to her, but he says nothing. 

“That’s because it is a party,” Sharon insists, a little too loudly, the tendrils of her hair dancing along the sides of her face. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

“We were driving through the district and I thought I’d drop in,” he says, still hovering over them. Bucky’s leaning against the doorway with his arms folded across his body and a look of mild amusement on his face, but he doesn’t attempt to intrude any further.

With his hands poised on his hips, Steve looks over at Wanda standing before the wall-to-wall mirrors. “Last time I checked, you’re not getting married. What’s happening here?” 

“Nobody says you have to be a bride to try on a pretty dress,” Nat explains beneath you, one arm still loosely wrapped around your waist. “Sharon needed a breather, actually, so we’ve decided to take turns modeling now. Right, babe?” 

She knocks a shoulder against one of yours.

When Steve swivels his head to look down at the both of you, there’s a smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth. “In that case, it’s your turn,” he commands, eyes fixed squarely on you. “Now that I think about it, I'm curious to know how you’d look in a wedding dress. And you want to please me, don’t you?”

You blink at him, letting his words wash over you. You remain sitting on Nat’s lap, even though you’re still not sure how you ended up there in the first place, and you can’t quite believe that Steve’s here too, but reality is starting to sink back in, your little fantasy cracking at the edges. These women around you aren’t your friends, and this isn’t some typical shopping excursion at a designer bridal house.  

When you respond, you’re only vaguely aware how much the champagne you’ve been knocking back has emboldened you. His champagne, no less.

“Forget it,” you say, shaking your head. “I don’t want to.”

You think you may be imagining it, but the room suddenly feels quieter. Steve, though, is still looking down at you, his face still set in a calm expression.

“Find a dress, sweetheart, or I’ll choose one and get you into it myself.” He sinks into the plush sofa adjacent to yours, the sole occupant. “Knowing your tastes, you won’t like what I have in mind for you.”

You know that Steve’s not messing around, because he’s made good on a similar threat before. Worst of all, none of the women around you dissent on your behalf, not even Nat, sitting so close to you. You should feel betrayed by their silence, but it’s partly your fault you helped craft the illusion you so badly wanted to believe in. 

“Come on beautiful, let’s go find you something,” Nat says gently, nudging you to stand. Maybe it’s the hurt you’re feeling, but this time around you don’t object as you follow a sales consultant, Nat trailing close behind. You pass by Bucky as you leave the private room; he throws you a look akin to mild sympathy before he joins the rest.

“My god, look at you,” he breathes, slowly rising from the plush white sofa. “My sweet, sweet girl, all dressed up to get married.”

You’d chosen a dress that made you think of a suit of armor. But by the way Steve studies you, his gaze sharp enough to pierce through any material, you just feel vulnerable. Exposed. Ironic, because your first and final choice felt the most conservative compared to all the dresses that Sharon and the others had come out in. Nat had coaxed you into wearing a veil, too, completing the whole look. 

The champagne keeps your fiery spirit afloat, your tongue looser than normal. “I'm never getting married,” you say.

Steve lifts an eyebrow, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Never?"

"Never," you parrot.

“Well that's too bad, 'cause that won't be a decision you get to make. Now come here.”

You think about ignoring him for a second, just turn right back where you’d shuffled from as your own quiet brand of fuck you. But there’s a look of expectancy on his face, and at his full height, Steve isn’t one to spar with. 

His hands are already on your waist when you turn to the expanse of mirrors. You weren’t wrong when you deemed this dress less eye-catching than the others, but that doesn’t mean it’s any less lovely. 

“What do you think?” he asks. You can feel his fingers playing with the veil that waterfalls behind you, the way his knuckles ghost along your back.

“It's . . . fine, I guess,” you say, staring at yourself in the mirror.

“Oh, I think it’s more than fine,” he insists. “Stunning, in fact. Should I buy it?”

He doesn’t mean it, you convince yourself, but it’s not enough to clamp down on the panic rising within you. Didn’t he just hear what you’d said a second earlier?

Until now, Steve has never mentioned marriage or anything of the like. But since when did you know how his mind worked? You wouldn’t be here if you did. 

“Well?”

You shake your head. “Don’t. I can’t wear white to another bride’s wedding,”

Steve chuckles as he gently draws back the veil and your hair away, sweeping both over your left shoulder. “In that case, you can wear it at home, just for me. And you’ll make sure not to wear anything underneath, won’t you?”

Goosebumps dance along your skin. His hands on your waist have you trapped in place, body pressed against his. To your alarm, you feel him hardening against your back, a threat and a promise.

" I liked it more when it was on the rack," you say hastily, trying to ignore his growing desire, "now that I'm in it, I'm having second thoughts."

In the mirror, you can see Steve shaking his head. "No, you're absolutely radiant in this. It's perfect . . . and it's just so you."

He acts without warning. You inhale sharply as his tongue trails up your neck, slow and hot. Steve was licking you—licking you—in front of everyone, without an ounce of shame. It reminds you all too well of the other night, when he had spread you out across his desk and eaten you out while he'd taken a call on speaker. He'd taken his damned time too, keeping you on the very precipice while the caller spewed all this babel your mind couldn't comprehend, all thanks to the desperate state you were in. And when he finally let you come, it had been with his hand shoved against your mouth.

Not for the first time, you realize just how badly you need to escape from Steve. You have to, before he decides to turn a passing comment into reality and you’ll be trapped with him forever.

Yeah I have no idea what this is lol; it was such a basic and simple premise that really didn’t need to be 2k plus words long, but here we are I guess. Graphics by me.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #mafia!steve rogers x reader #mafia!steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #steve rogers au

[awhhhflush]

The Meeting

Mob!Bucky x Reader x Steve Rogers (Massive warning - this fic is dark.)

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

#mafia bucky barnes #mafia bucky x reader #mob bucky au #mob bucky x reader #mob bucky barnes #mafia au #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes #dark bucky x reader #dark bucky barnes #dark steve rogers #mob steve #mob steve rogers #mafia steve rogers

[biteofcherry]

Good moaning. 😇

Moaning indeed 🥵🫠

Touch The Darkness

dark mafia!Steve Rogers x female reader

just a piece that takes place in the future to the current plot of the story

warnings: dark Steve Rogers; possessiveness; Dom/sub undertones; brief mention of breathplay;

The smile on your face froze in place as you noticed the distinctive sleek car pull up onto the gravel driveway in front of the lodge.

As always, Bucky stepped out first. He moved like a shard of darkness in the brightly sunlit, serene surroundings of the lake shore. This time he didn't round the car to open the passenger's door. Steve got out of the car himself.

From the driver's seat.

Laughter and chatter still continued around you, but it all fell into a dull background noise as you stared at Steve.

What the hell was he doing here?

It was a weekend away organized as a reprieve for caregivers of patients with severe dementia. You worked for over eight months to set it up, including finding proper care options for said patients while their partners, parents and children (depending on who was the main caregiver) were away.

The main goal was to simply rest and relax, but you also made sure there were a few workshops, which is why some of the health center's staff members were with you.

Natalie, as well. She was the one who drove you two here.

"Good morning, Princess," Steve's charm was full on, contrasting with the dark aura flowing around his broad frame like a villain's cloak.

If Bucky was a shard of darkness, Steve was the heart of it, stepping through the sunny day like a fallen angel strolling straight from the pit of hell into the marble heavens.

The nature itself seemed to grew taut and wary of his presence.

Your coworkers and guests, even if they sensed the danger that accompanied Steve, seemed more fascinated and in awe.

"Steve?" You gulped, eyeing him suspiciously.

Yet your body turned his way; a thrill skimming through your limbs as he sneaked a hand around your middle and leaned down to kiss you.

"Hello everyone," without easing his hold on you, Steve greeted the others. His hearts-winning and panty-dropping smile fooling everyone.

He explained how he wanted to support you, especially the idea of a weekend away, since the two of you have been so busy lately.

You didn't believe a single word.

It was when he insisted on the two of you going for a short stroll, while everyone was preparing ingredients to grill for dinner (somehow Bucky took the lead in that, commanding others with barely any word spoken), that Steve's agenda became clear.

Seemingly casually, Steve asked brief questions about each of your staff members. Until he asked about Joaquin.

"Is he a good doctor?" Steve's hand cradled your chin as he tilted your head to look in the direction of the young neurologist.

"Yes." You frowned, not yet realizing where it was leading.

"It would be a shame then, if the center lost him." Steve turned your face back to him. His hand slid down, rings adorned fingers curling around the front of your neck in that possessive manner that weakened your knees.

"It would be a shame, if no hospital or clinic were ever to discover his brilliance, because he got himself killed for flirting with my fucking wife."

Steve's voice remained softly composed, but the last three words were punctuated with his blue eyes turning icy cold and his fingers clenching tighter around your throat.

"He wasn't-" you tried to protest, but at Steve's arched eyebrow you relented.

Okay, so maybe Joaquin was making it quite obvious that he liked spending time with you and always found a reason to be near. It was pleasant, but harmless.

Or so you thought.

Since you weren't tempted to go with it, you didn't think it was risky to reciprocate some smiles, or letting Joaquin swipe an eyelash threatening to fall into your eyes while your own hands were dirty.

You didn't expect Steve's spy to tattle on you about something insignificant like that.

"Don't hurt him, please." Your reached for Steve's free hand, squeezing it in both of yours as you looked up at him.

"Is that your good heart speaking, or do you have feelings for him?" Steve inched closer and despite being in an the open, you felt caged.

His warmth seeped through you, starting a wave of heat that flushed you. His proximity had the hair on the back of your neck standing to attention in fear, but your nipples hardening in arousal.

You wished that you were the person you claimed to be nearly a year ago, so that falling for someone so sweet like Joaquin would be expected and normal. Instead, you weren't even mildly interested in him, but in the devil who had your body responding to his power.

Steve's gaze slowly dropped to your parted lips, then down to your chest and the stiff peaks pointing through your shirt. He looked lower, to how your were clenching his free hand within yours and holding it against your belly.

A corner of his mouth dragged up in a pleased smirk. The bastard knew you were itching to have his fingers slide under the waistband of your jeans.

"Is everything okay?" Your eyes widened as Joaquin unexpectedly walked over, but you didn't dare look away from Steve's eyes.

"Quite perfect, actually," Steve chuckled.

Joaquin frowned, his gaze shifting between the two of you. It landed on your neck and the glint of sun in silver rings on Steve's fingers, which were tightly wrapped around your throat.

Joaquin called your name.

A muscle in Steve's jaw twitched, as if he could barely stand another man saying your name.

"He's worried, Princess." Steve cooed. "Why don't you tell him how wet your panties are just from my hand on your throat?"

You felt the scorching flame of embarrassment burning your from the inside, wishing the ground would simply swallow you whole.

But you knew that playing along was the only way of ensuring that Joaquin would live to see another day.

"They're soaked," you muttered, eyelashes fluttering as you cast your gaze downwards.

Steve smirked, triumphantly. He stroked his thumb along the side of your neck in a rewarding caress.

"See," Steve cocked his head, looking at Joaquin with lazy confidence of a man who couldn't be bothered by anyone's threats, "my wife likes it on the kinky side. But she is a tad shy, so we'd appreciate if you left us to our privacy."

Joaquin left, or rather bolted. Was he embarrassed on your behalf, or did he plan on calling someone else for help, you weren't sure.

"You humiliated me in front of a colleague and employee." You grumbled when Steve's gaze returned to you.

"Princess, he's more outraged with the fact he won't ever get to sample your dirty cravings, than with knowing you have them." Steve chuckled, moving his hand so that his thumb rubbed along your bottom lip.

"And it's better for him-" Steve's tone lowered as he pushed his thumb into your mouth- "if he understands that you belong to me and no force is going to change that."

You thought Steve meant that display alone as the supposed lesson for Joaquin.

But he proved you wrong later that night, when he took you hard on the creaking bed in your small room in the lodge.

Steve's big hand was pressed over your mouth, muffling your sounds and occasionally also cutting off your airflow, while he made you cum until you sobbed.

When he fucked you right into your fourth orgasms, you didn't expect him to lift his hand from your face.

Your cry of ecstasy echoed through the lodge.

#navybrat817 #dark mafia!steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x female reader #touch the darkness #steve rogers fic #dark mafia!steve rogers x reader #dark mafia!steve rogers x female reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x female reader

[adulting-sucks]

Outside the Storm

This is my entry for MIssy's 3.5K follower event: You were one of my first follows on here, I am happy to have the chance to participate. @saiyanprincessswanie

Summary: Steve Rogers is the most feared mobster in the Eastern US, and you had fallen for him. What happens when the love fades and you need to escape? In walks Andy Barber-is he your savior or another nightmare?

Word count: 12,938K (Still no chill 😬)

Characters: Soft Dark Steve Rogers x Reader; Andy Barber x Reader; Jake Jensen and Reader (Platonic)

Mafia AU; Defending Jacob doesn't exist

Prompt: "No one else would get to hurt you again, you were his"

Warnings: Your media consumption is your responsibility-This story contains dark subject matter, please stay away if you cannot handle; Smut, lots and lots of Smut; Forced Anal play; angst, lots and lots if angst; Fluff

Once again, a huge shout out and thank you to @peyton-warren who kept me sane and walked me through every word. I couldn't do any of this without your support

You looked at your reflection, hardly recognizing the woman you saw, really just a shell of the person you used to be. You picked up the business card, running your fingers over the embossing on the front, turning it over to see the handwritten phone number, a number you had dialed over and over, always hanging up after the first ring.

You continued staring at your face, noticing new lines, feeling as if your youth was gone, your soul having survived a thousand lives. You stared at the name on the card, again twirling it over and over, dialing and hanging up. Until you didn’t.

“I’ll meet you tomorrow, one o’clock, the place we first met,” you said after you heard the click connecting your call. You hung up, not allowing time for a response, your heart pounding, blood rushing, your ears roaring.

You hid the card in your purse, a secret pocket only you knew about, knowing if he ever found it, you were dead. Steve Rogers was not a man you betrayed, yet with one call, you had sealed your fate, no turning back now.

You stared at your reflection, seeing nothing of the girl you were when you fell in love with the head of the largest mafia syndicate in New York, hell over all of the East Coast. That girl was dead, replaced with an older woman, one who was tired. You stood and walked over to your bed knowing sleep would elude you again.

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You weren’t sure how you were able to do it, but you managed to leave the house unnoticed and alone, something that didn’t happen too often. Steve didn’t like you being alone with so many enemies who would do anything to get to him, even hurting you.

You sat at your regular table in the corner where you could see everything yet remain unseen, blending into the area around you. You sipped your soda, your eyes continuously scanning everything. He walked in just as your eyes made it to the door, your heart thundering in your chest, hands shaking.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me,” Andy Barber said as he sat across from you, a gentle smile on his face. “I know the risk you’re taking, I know what I am asking of you-” he continued, pausing at your scoff and eye roll.

“Do you really, Mr, Barber? What you’re asking of me will cost me my life, not that there’s much left of it anyhow,” you retorted, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. “Look, I will hear you out, I will take every word into consideration. But if I do this, I vanish, as if I never existed, and Rogers will never find me. Those are my terms.”

Andy shook his head in agreement, willing to give you everything you asked for for intel on Steve Rogers. He had built his career on doing the right thing, fighting the bad guys, and Andrew Barber was fucking good at his job. But getting to put Steve Rogers away for life, effectively crumbling the New York crime syndicate would be life changing. Steve Rogers was ruthless and cold, yet smart.

“I understand your hesitation but I will do everything in my power to get you out alive.” Andy placed his hand on top of yours, squeezing it to reassure you. You met Andy’s gaze, trusting him almost immediately, trying to ignore the warmth of his touch.

“Okay, when do we start?” you asked, your stomach somersaulting, a feeling you hadn’t had in a long while; you liked Andrew Barber. He was handsome, devastatingly so, his blue eyes so piercing they seemed to see your very soul. You liked how soft his skin was, the way his smile reached every feature on his face, so genuine. You wondered what his lips felt like, how his hands would feel exploring every inch of your bare skin as he kissed every part of you.

“Are you okay?” Andy asked, his voice cutting through your very sinful thoughts, thoughts that had you squeezing your thighs together. “Do you think you can start now, we can record everything for the record. I have an office no one knows about, one rented under a pseudonym by the district attorney's office just for cases like this.” Andy rubbed his thumb over your knuckle, soothing your anxiety, almost as if he had known you all your life.

“Yeah, okay. But we need to go now, and I will do it all at once. Steve thinks I’m at my mother’s house for the next week; I told him she was ill. It’s the only reason I was able to slip away unnoticed.” You looked out the window, wondering if this was truly the right thing to do. You had loved Steve Rogers once, did you still?

“I know how dangerous this is, and I wouldn’t ask it of you if I didn’t think you could handle it. Your strength is quiet, but strong. And if those marks are any indication of your life, then Rogers needs to go away for good.” Andy watched you shift in your seat, self consciously adjusting your jacket.

“Make no mistake, Mr. Barber. I am not a battered woman. These marks are for everyone else, so they know who I belong to. Steve has never hit me, never once laid a hand on me. These marks are the result of his love, of his fucking me into the ground.” You held his gaze, no shame in your words at all; Steve Rogers was a damn good fuck, the best you’d had.

“Be that as it may, it doesn’t change anything. Rogers needs to go away, and you need a new life. That is what I will give you, I promise. And please, call me Andy.” He smiled gently, your hand still in his grasp, his eyes never leaving yours, never showing one ounce of judgment.

You cleared your throat, unable to hold Andy’s gaze. No man had ever looked at you the way Andy was, not even Steve. “Well, Andy, let’s get this going. The sooner it’s done, the sooner I will disappear.” You grabbed your purse, leaving a hundred dollar bill on the table. Andy stood, leading you out to his car. There was no turning back now, even if you wanted to.

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Steve’s POV

Steve pulled into the driveway happy to finally be home. He had been away for almost two weeks, and he couldn’t wait to see you. And fuck you. He had tried to sate his need with other women, but none of them could ever amount to you. You were perfect. Your hair, your skin, your pussy. He had turned you into the perfect woman, and he made sure to mark you everytime he buried his cock in you.

Steve made sure he had everything, almost forgetting the jewelry he had gotten you. The soft velvet housed a gorgeous white gold necklace and ring set, beautiful alexandrite in the center, small diamonds surrounding both in a teardrop shape. Steve knew you loved colored and rare gems, just how he saw you. Stunning and rare.

Steve still remembered the first time he saw you, standing outside of the lecture hall, laughing with the president of the most popular fraternity on campus, your hand resting on his arm. In that moment, Steve wanted to kill any man who even looked at you, and from then on, you were his. Everyone knew who Steve Rogers was, and Steve Rogers always got what he wanted.

Steve opened the door, surprised at how dark the house was, wondering where you were. You weren’t normally gone this late. He pulled his phone out, shooting a text to his head of security to see where you were as he wasn’t used to not knowing your location at all times. Hell, he’d even hired your best friend as head of his technology section. Jake Jensen was such a goofy motherfucker, he never once worried about you being alone with him.

As he waited for a response to his text, he pulled up the tracking app he had installed on your phone without your knowledge, one of the many secrets he had paid Jensen handsomely to keep confidential. He saw your phone showing at the hospital near your mother’s home, his concern and wariness growing.

He shot a text off asking if everything was okay with your mom, setting your present down, losing his tie and shirt. He made his way to his office, poured himself a bourbon as he waited for your reply. You’d never given him a reason to not trust you, but there was something about this that didn’t sit right with him.

His head of security texted back to let Steve know you’d been called away earlier by an emergency, your mom had collapsed and was found unconscious by her home health nurse. The agency had you listed as her emergency contact, calling you about her hospital admission.

Steve was considering this story when his phone rang, you on the other end. He listened as you explained the days events, the steady beep of the heart monitor playing in the background of the conversation. You told him it would be about a week before you’d be home, even with the home health nurses on duty. Steve, of course, told you not to worry about anything but your mother, that he would be here waiting, and to call him if you needed anything at all. He asked if you’d like him to join you once he returned, not revealing that he had already arrived home from his business trip. You told him it was fine and that you’d see him at home, ending with telling him you loved and missed him.

Steve hung up, alarm bells ringing in his head. He immediately called Jensen, commanding round the clock monitoring of your location and communication, to be reported directly to him. Steve poured himself another glass, staring into the fire. He wasn’t sure what would happen or what he would find, but hopefully it was just a feeling.

He drained the rest of his drink, leaving your present on his desk as he headed to his bedroom. He hadn’t slept in about a day and exhaustion was catching up to him. Steve decided to go straight to sleep, changing into flannel bottoms with no shirt, sinking directly into bed, his dreams sending him into even more concern and chaos.

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Flashback

You remembered the first time you saw Steve Rogers, his large shoulders, striking blue eyes, classically handsome looks all focused on you as if you were the only person besides him to exist. You found yourself pulled into the orbit of his space and you honestly felt you were finally where you belonged.

Steve introduced himself, his gaze never wavering from yours as you told him your name, the other man all but forgotten. You knew about Steve Rogers, everyone did, but you never thought Steve Rogers would care about someone like you.

He walked along with you, stopping to offer a ride when you realized you’d missed the last bus back to your apartment. You were hesitant, stranger danger and all, but you found yourself unable to say no, almost as if the world would shatter if you did.

The drive was comfortable, as if you two had known each other all your lives. And maybe for you, you had. Steve Rogers was everything you’d dreamed of, the man of every dream you’d ever had. Tall, nice, focused solely on you and you alone, even if you two had just met. You’d never had that in your life, always feeling invisible or unseen compared to your friends.

Steve listened as you talked about your goals, veterinary school always your dream since you could talk. You had always had a better connection with animals, humans had always managed to let you down or disappoint somehow. You had just finished your second year of your post graduate degree, your clinicals starting in a few days. You’d only been at the school to pick up your rotation for the next semester.

Steve had never been one for love or relationships; he’d learned early in life that you couldn’t trust or depend on anyone but yourself, something his father had always made sure he remembered, especially once he had started learning the business. The Family Fucking Business as the movies liked to say. Every time he watched The Godfather or Goodfellas, he always had a good laugh-nothing about his life was glamorous or pretty. Well, nothing until he met you.

He could listen to you talk all day, every minute, his life finally finding purpose outside of fortune and power. He was lost in the mellifluous sound of your voice and realized he’d missed the last five minutes of your conversation. You laughed at his confusion, finding yourself also lost in him.

He walked you up, stopping outside your door as he tried to memorize every last detail he could, not knowing when or if you would want to see him again. As you stood watching him, trying to find any reason not to say goodbye, you threw all caution to the wind, suddenly finding the courage to do something you never would have.

You stood on the tips of your toes, snaking your arms around Steve’s neck, and before you could change your mind, placed your lips on his. You felt Steve still and wondered if you’d just humiliated yourself until you felt him relax, a hand on your lower back, the other on your cheek as he leaned into the kiss, taking over.

You don’t know how long the kiss actually was, all you knew was the burning in your lungs finally forced you apart. You rested your forehead against his, both of you gulping in breaths of fresh air. Steve pulled back, his cheeks flushed as he continued stroking your cheek softly with his thumb, the trail of heat still on your skin as you allowed yourself to look at him.

You stood in silence, both too lost in each other to say a word. Steve asked for your phone number after a few minutes of being silent and still, handing over his phone as you held your hand out. You typed your number then called yourself to save Steve’s, placing one more kiss on his lips before you ran into your apartment and locked the door.

You leaned against the closed door, your heart pounding, your stomach fluttering wildly, brushing your fingers over your lips where you still felt his. You squealed in delight, scaring the kitten you’d just brought home from class after you performed an amputation on his tail caused by a deep infection which would not heal.

You picked up Nubbins, happy in a way you’d never experienced before. You were always the quiet one who was only spoken to when men were trying to hit on your friends, you were never the main character in any story. Yet, this man you’d only known for two hours had changed all of that. You heard him chuckle and wish you a good evening with the promise you would hear from him soon.

You made dinner and started going over your schedule for the next semester, your favorite movie droning on in the background when you heard your phone vibrate. You jumped, the noise scaring you for a moment as you weren’t used to anyone really texting you. Nubbins grumbled and yawned, moving to sit on the other end of your bed after you had so rudely disturbed his sleep.

You saw Steve in your banner notifications, your heart skipping a beat. He couldn’t wait any longer to talk to you, and you couldn’t be happier about not playing it cool. You texted with Steve well into the night, falling asleep past one in the morning. You knew you’d be tired for your first shift at the local shelter, your meeest clinical site, but it was completely worth it.

You woke up at six, heading to the shower first thing as per your normal morning routine. You dressed quickly, almost forgetting your phone on the way out the door. You had just locked up and finally opened your phone to check the time so you didn’t miss your bus. You heard your name as you came down the front steps, looking up to see Steve standing there with a cup of coffee.

You flushed, not used to having someone take care of you like this. Steve opened up the car door for you, making sure you were buckled in before he made his way to the drivers side. He asked for the name of the shelter, putting it in his GPS as he pulled away from the curb,

From that moment on, you never took another bus again. Steve was always there to pick you up and take you home, sending one of his most trusted men if he was working or out of town. Steve took you to dinner, to musicals, the movies, anything you wanted to do, Steve made sure you did.

The next two years continued like this, Steve being the loudest one at your graduation, your biggest cheerleader through all of it. Nubbins adored him, and you had to admit your heart melted every time you saw your large and cold man enraptured by a tiny ball of floof, finding Nubbins napping on Steve many times.

The sex was always amazing, right from the start. Steve was used to women falling all over themselves for a chance at him, even if for only one night. You, however, you didn’t. You wouldn’t sleep with him until you were sure the connection between the two of you was genuine. You weren’t playing hard to get, nor were you frothing at the mouth for a taste of him. Steve had never met anyone like you, and once he had tasted you, he was never letting you go.

The first time with Steve was straight out of one of your favorite romantic movies: slow, sweet, and incredibly sensual. You’d made your way to his house after dinner, heading in for a nightcap. As you sat and talked, you realized you were ready, you wanted to take this leap now.

You put your glass on the table grabbing Steve’s and placing it next to yours, moving onto Steve’s lap, straddling him as you started to kiss. You felt his hands move down your back, one coming to settle on your hip, the other in your hair as he held you close.

He groaned as you rolled your hips over his lap, feeling his cock harden beneath you, causing you to moan and roll your hips again, trying to find any type of friction.

Steve pulled back, pushing your hair out of your face, his hand caressing your cheek as he stared deeply, asking if you were sure that you were ready, that this is what you wanted. You nodded silently, never breaking eye contact as you felt him lift you from the couch, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you to his bedroom.

He kissed you deeply, moving you softly and gently to the bed, propping your head on his pillows. He kneeled between your legs, kissing you again, moving from your mouth to the shell of your ears, down your neck to the swell of your breasts.

He kissed down your stomach, his hands landing under your shirt and pushing it up, his lips following the trail of his fingers. You arched your back up to allow him to remove your shirt, so completely lost in the sensation of his touch and tongue. He removed your bra as he made his way back down your neck, his eyes locked with yours as he took one nipple in his mouth, the other in his hand.

You had never remembered being this sensitive, every lave of his tongue, every nibble of teeth, every kiss sending electric shocks up and down your body, your mind filled with nothing but Steve Rogers. He switched breasts, paying just as much attention to your other nipple, the cool air sending goosebumps down your flesh.

He kissed down your stomach, his hands moving to your pants, unbuttoning them and pushing them slowly down, making sure he kissed every inch of skin down one leg and up the other as he dropped your pants to the floor. Your hands moved onto his head, twining in his hair as he nosed your clothed pussy, your scent already intoxicating to him.

He rubbed up and down over your lace thong, fascinated with the wet patch forming from his ministrations, your grip on his hair tightening the more he teased. He finally hooked his thumbs under the waistband, all patience lost as he ripped them off easily, his mouth finding your clit immediately.

You cried out, his mouth so warm and wet against your cunt, every nerve firing off with pleasure as he sucked and licked, inserting two fingers in. You cried out again and again, the sudden fullness mixed with his suckling hurtling you over the edge, your orgasm immediate and hard.

He worked you through it, his cock straining against his pants as he watched you fall apart. You came a second time, crying out, barely registering the loss of his mouth before you felt him slowly slide his dick in, your walls grabbing on tight. He swore he had never felt a pussy this good, and from this moment on, it was only for him.

As you came back to reality, you found your hips moving in time with his, slow and steady as he fucked you, his forehead resting on yours, his eyes locked onto your face as he kept taking you apart. You opened your eyes, completely lost in the sensations your body was experiencing.

Steve hooked an arm under your right leg, allowing him to fuck you deeper and deeper, his fingers gripping your hip so tightly you knew would leave marks of the best kind. You told him not to stop, begging Steve to fuck you harder, slower, deeper again, cumming for a third time when you felt his hand drop to your already sensitive clit. You felt his rhythm stutter, his thrusts growing more sharp until he came, filling you up so completely you weren’t sure where you began and Steve ended, your bodies and souls wrapped in one sweaty shell, both trying to catch your breath.

Steve had you over and over, his appetite for you never diminishing even as the night turned to morning. He finally let you rest, your body curled around his as you fell asleep so easily. He held you as he also allowed exhaustion to take him, waking a short while later. He wanted you again but made himself let you rest as he went to make some food for you both. He didn’t have any plans for the rest of the weekend, as far as he was concerned, his only job was to fuck you over and over until you had to work on Monday. And Steve took that job very seriously indeed.

You’d never felt so beautiful, so wanted as you did when Steve was buried inside you, your taste all over his face after spending hours with his mouth in your pussy. You had tried to reciprocate his selflessness only for Steve to push you back down and make you forget your previous attempts. You wanted his dick in your mouth, his cum pouring down your throat, but that wouldn’t happen yet. At that moment, it was all about you, learning to read every moan, every gasp, every touch that made you sing.

It would be another month or so before you were able to fulfill your need to suck his cock. You were relaxing in his office, studying for your boards, Steve outside on the phone for business, and in that moment, you couldn’t help yourself. Watching him pace, yelling and frustrated, his veins were popping out of his neck, You watched him slam his phone down, your eyes drawn to the power this man exuded by simply existing.

You waited until Steve had calmed down and made his way back inside, dropping into his chair behind the desk. You poured him a glass of bourbon, setting it down in front of him, running your fingers through his hair as he hugged you. You dropped a kiss on his head, feeling him relax into you.

You couldn’t stop the need blooming through you, just the touch of his fingers creating a heat you could no longer ignore, nor did you want to. You lifted his face, peppering kisses down his cheek, over his jaw to the other side, moving from his face to his neck, licking and biting as you went.

Steve moved his head back, allowing you easier access to him as he wound his hands in your hair, tightening his grip the lower you went. You dropped to your knees, spreading his thighs to make room as you ran your hands up his legs, stopping at his belt. You looked up at him, silently waiting for approval, and so happy you’d decided to leave your hair down, your scalp tingling with each tightening grip.

Steve looked down, lust blown features over his face, twisting in ecstasy as your fingers ran over the bulge in his pants. With one nod, barely perceptible, you unfastened his belt, slipped your hands beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs, and pulled both down as Steve lifted his hips.

Your mouth watered at the sight, his cock hard and leaking. It took everything in you not to immediately shove him down your throat, but you held back, placing long licks up his shaft, stopping to suck the tip in before licking your way back down.

Each lick caused a sigh, each time you sucked just the tip, it caused him to pull your hair tighter, his hips lifting off the chair to push down your throat more. You lifted his cock, moving to suck his balls into your mouth, causing you to smile when your heard a moaned and strangled fuck leave his mouth.

You couldn’t deny how beautiful and sexy you felt in this moment, bringing this powerful man to his knees, a feeling you hadn’t felt often. You finally stopped teasing, your lips wrapping around Steve as you slowly worked your way down, taking a deep breath, starting to exhale as you worked his dick down the back of your throat, humming to relax enough to let him in and remind you to breathe.

You felt his hands tighten the more you swallowed, until you stilled, your drool running down. You looked up at Steve, waiting for him to relax. Once he stilled and his breathing was a little slower, you started to move, allowing him to fuck your throat, his taste filling your senses.

You allowed Steve to take over, his hips thrusting more and more, harder and harder as he worked towards his own end, your drool dripping down his balls onto the floor, and as you looked up at him, he swore he had never seen a more beautiful sight in his life.

You felt him start to thrust faster as his breathing quickened, moans and fucks falling freely from his mouth. You continued to let him lead, finally sated as he spilled his cum down your throat, his taste permanently seared into your memory as you swallowed it all down, waiting for Steve to release your hair before you moved.

As Steve slowly relaxed his hold on you, you made your way up, releasing his already softening cock from your mouth, making sure you swallowed every last drop. Steve grabbed you, settling you on his lap as he kissed you deeply, completely possessive as he tasted himself on you.

You should have seen the warnings then, felt the shift in Steve, but you were so in love, you missed it all. He loved you, he adored you, he worshiped you and your body. It started slowly, little marks here and there, nothing you couldn’t cover.

Eventually, it all changed. Steve marked you every time he took you, making sure everyone around knew exactly who you belonged to. He moved you into his home while you were at work, something you’d only spoken about, but hadn’t made a final decision on, and before you had a chance to discuss it with him, he showered you with gifts including a ring you’d had your eye on for a while. He made sure to fuck you so completely and thoroughly; it worked. You never broached the subject again, accepting this as your home.

Life continued on, and with each passing day, Steve’s obsession grew more and more. He wanted to know where you were every hour. He would text and if there was no immediate response, he would call. You made the mistake of not answering once while you were working; when you got home, Steve immediately took you upstairs and threw you down on the bed, tying your hands above your head.

You’d discussed exploring certain kinks, but this wasn’t about that. This was about ownership, obedience-you didn’t answer the phone, you needed to be punished, something to remind you who was in charge. That’s exactly what he did, edging you for hours, tears pouring down your face as you begged for release, your tear-filled promises music to Steve’s ears.

Once he finally let you cum, you thought that was it, but Steve wasn’t done with you. He spent the next hour making you cum over and over again, until your body went limp. You’d passed out, the last four hours too much on your body. Steve removed your restraints, and left you to grab a warm washcloth from the bathroom, cleaning you gently before gathering you to his chest. You woke up hours later, your body sore, warm from Steve’s body covering yours.

You were thrown into the dark side of this relationship, punishment becoming more frequent and painful. Steve wanted to make sure you remembered who you belonged with, belonged to, who loved you. You didn’t want to make anything worse, but sometimes your mind asked if this was actually love. And in those moments of doubt, Steve would be kind, he would be caring, he wouldn’t mark you as he fucked you.

In those moments, Steve was more of the man you fell in love with, less of the man who made you question your life with him. In those moments, he would hold you, kiss you, tell you how you had made him the luckiest man in the world. He would make love to you, show you off to people at any functions he attended.

In those moments, you were his shining light. You made him feel, something he thought he had lost the ability to do. Then he would flip a switch, the mere thought of you with someone else causing his jealousy to rise. Those moments were the worst.

Not only were you marked all over, you were fucked too hard and before you were wet, your screams of pain fueling his thrusts. He would take you any way her wanted; your pussy, your ass, your mouth and all you could do was allow him.

The longer this happened, the harder it was for you to hide your bruises, to walk without pain, making you quit your job. The more questions people asked, the more ashamed you became. Yet, in his own twisted way, you just accepted that this was what love was for Steve, therefore this is what love was for you.

You cannot remember the exact moment you decided maybe this wasn’t love, that maybe you weren’t meant to be with someone who had to make sure you and everyone around him knew who you were and who you belonged to. You became a toy, an object for him to display, to bend and mold to his will.

The first time you really learned about his work was a day unlike any other; it was the day your view of Steven Grant Rogers shifted into something irreparable. You had handed in your resignation and made your way home early, upset at losing something you had worked so hard for.

You headed to the bedroom to undress, stepping into a hot shower where you finally allowed yourself time to mourn your career. You loved animals, you loved helping them, and you had to walk away from that because Steve finally broke something inside your soul.

You dressed quickly and made your way to the kitchen. Steve wasn’t usually home this time of day, so you were looking forward to having the house to yourself for a while. You had to get every negative emotion out now or you would pay later.

You made your way to the kitchen, grabbing your favorite bottle of wine on the counter, opening the fridge to make something to eat. As you were making your sandwich, you heard a thump from the basement. Putting down your wine, you grabbed the largest knife in the butcher block as you made your way down.

You heard the thumping continue followed by groans, the noise getting louder the deeper you went. Your heart was thudding loudly, your only thought being you hope Steve wouldn’t be mad when he found your dead body.

As you rounded the corner, you stopped dead. In front of you was Steve, flushed from exertion. You watched as he punched a man restrained by chains hanging from the ceiling. You weren’t allowed downstairs ever, and now you knew why.

You watched Steve beat this man over and over, your mouth twisted in horror. This wasn’t the man you loved. This was a psychotic monster dressed to look like Steve. You watched the stranger’s blood splash with each hit, spraying all over Steve’s dress shirt, his knuckles bruised and bloodied.

You shoved your fist in your mouth to stifle your heavy breathing, willing your feet to move, to leave before you were caught, but you were frozen. The stranger looked over at you, his face swollen, but you saw him ask for your help.

You turned and ran before Steve caught you, the last sound to follow you out was screaming which ended with a gunshot. You ran upstairs and hid in the walk in closet, tears streaming down your face.

You’d always heard the rumors and whispers about the business Steve was in, but you never fully believed what anyone said. Now you knew just how naive you had truly been. You heard the door to the basement open, Steve’s voice carrying through the house as he gave directions to his right hand on removing the body.

You jumped as you heard him make his way upstairs, running to the bathroom and turning the shower on to hide yourself from Steve, and maybe also to try and wash away what you’d just witnessed. You quickly undressed and showered again, staying in for as long as you could.

You wrapped yourself in your robe, took a deep breath and opened the door to the bathroom, faking a look of surprise at seeing Steve home. He looked up at you, his clothes changed and blood free. He asked what you were doing at home, you said you had quit your job today and came home early.

As you walked to the closet to get some clothes, your heart once again thudded in your chest. You were scared it was so loud, Steve would be able to hear. You jumped when you felt Steve behind you, his hands working your robe off. You leaned back into him, afraid he would know the truth if you didn’t accept his affection.

Steve kissed your shoulders, up your neck, stopping at your ear. He whispered he knew you were lying and asked why you had been downstairs, his hand gripping your arm in a bruising grip. He grabbed your hair, pulling you to the bed as he bent you over, working his pants and boxer briefs down his legs, freeing his already hard cock.

You cried as he spit on your asshole, his cock in hand as he stroked it slowly. You begged for lube, for anything to prepare you for this invasion, but it fell on deaf ears as he pushed into you. As you felt him stretch your already abused hole, you hated the betrayal of your body, your cunt growing wet with each thrust.

Steve was relentless, fucking you slow at first, trying to allow you time to adjust before he started to fuck you deeply. You felt his hand reach around and gather your slick as he worked your clit. Your tears stained the bed, whether from pleasure or pain, you weren’t sure. You hated that he could make you feel so good while taking what he wanted with no concern for you.

He rubbed your clit harder, your orgasm rushing over you as you came all over his hand. You felt his thrusts quicken, however you weren’t able to keep track as he made you cum again and again. You finally felt him stiffen, your hole filled with his cum as he continued to fuck you through both of your orgasms, his dick softening with each twitch, your skin raw and irritated as his cum leaked out.

You sobbed quietly, long after he’d pulled out and left you limp on the bed, heading to the bathroom to clean himself off. He came back in the room, stooping down to whisper in your ear that you knew the rules. Downstairs was off limits and lying about it was why the punishment was so rough, dropping a kiss on your cheek leaving to change his clothes and head back down.

You laid on the bed, your tears soaking the sheets, unable to move, disgusted as you felt Steve’s cum leaking out of you. After what felt like hours, you finally stopped sobbing and lifted yourself off the bed, crawling on your hands and knees to the bathroom. You filled the tub with hot water, gently lowering yourself into the bath, the water stinging your sore and abused hole.

You sat in the water with your knees pulled up to your chin until the bath had turned cold and you started shivering. Only then did you stand up and wrap yourself in your fluffy robe, heading towards the closet carefully as you were still in intense pain.

You turned to look at the bed, still covered with cum, yours and Steve’s, but you couldn’t bring yourself to lay down. You opened the door, cautiously looking around for Steve, and made your way down to the guest bedroom. You laid down, covering yourself with the blanket as you started quietly sobbing once more, finally falling asleep once you’d cried all you could, which became the new normal for you.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Present Day

As you finished up the history behind you and Steve, Andy sat quietly, his attention focused only on you. You couldn’t meet his gaze, afraid you would see pity there. Pity was the last thing you wanted, especially from a man you’d known for twelve hours.

You stood and made your way to the table where you’d set your purse down, reaching in to grab your insurance. You walked back to Andy and placed the drive in front of him.

“This is everything I have on Steve. Names, positions, wives, girlfriends, everything you need to put not only him away, but many of those around him also.”

“How were you able to compile this without him knowing?” Andy asked, impressed by your strength and courage.

“My best friend growing up is a tech genius, former special ops. He has been helping me for a while. He created a software program that feeds from all known and unknown government databases. Facial recognition, full background checks, anything that has ever been documented, dark web shit too. I would get a lot of information from the wives. Get a little wine in them and they talk a lot. I would feed this to Jake and he would gather all of the intel he had and match it with what I was told.”

Andy got up and disappeared into another room, returning with his laptop. He plugged the drive in and opened the encrypted files with the password you gave to him. As he watched everything open, he realized that this was it. This was everything he needed to take down not only Steve, but most of his payroll, some high ranking officials and politicians. What Andy was looking at was a nuclear weapon and he held the code.

You sat quietly as Andy worked, your mind wandering back to Steve. You knew this would seal your fate and you would never see him again. You weren’t sure how you felt, or how you were supposed to feel. You were relieved because you would no longer be his prisoner, yet you grieved the loss of him. There was a time you were so in love with Steve, you couldn’t wait to be his wife. Now, you couldn’t even stomach looking at him let alone him touching you.

“This is it. This is everything I need to make sure Steve never hurts you again, or anyone else for that matter. Once I do this, once I make the call and blow this up, you can never go back again. Do you understand what I’m saying? Do you still want to do this?” Andy turned and grabbed your hands, his thumb rubbing a soothing motion.

“I’m sure, but I do have some requests. I disappear immediately when you are done with me. I don’t need anything, I have a sizable amount of money stashed away. I want a new city, a new name, and I want to be able to practice again eventually, in some capacity. I can do shelter medicine, work somewhere small, I don’t care. I just want some part of my life back.”

“I can make you disappear, I will be the only person who knows where you are. My plan is to keep you hidden the entire trial, which should be quick with everything you’ve given me. After the trial is done and I’m sure Steve and everyone associated with him are gone, once I’ve done this, I will make sure to find a way for you to resume your veterinary career.”

You didn’t know why, and this was something you didn’t think you’d ever be able to do again after Steve, but you trusted Andy. You believed every word he said; you couldn’t be sure if it was because you truly did or if it was wishful thinking, but right now you couldn’t care less. Right now, he was here and he was keeping you alive.

“I have an idea for your friend. I will have to make some calls and see what can be done, but this database he’s built would be an amazing asset to our government. FBI, CIA, every branch of the military, this would change the face of national security for the better. Would he be open to something like that?”

“I would need to verify this with him the next time he checks in and updates me on Steve, but I don’t think he’d turn you down at all.” You smiled, grasping Andy’s hand tightly, your feelings bittersweet. You looked up to see Andy staring deeply at you, his face etched with worry and pride. You tried to ignore the flutter of your heart at his gaze, reminding yourself this was just another business proposition for Andy, nothing more.

“Well, I think I will try and get some sleep.” You stood, clearing your throat to cover the sudden rush of emotion in your voice. “Were your men able to get me everything I asked for?” you inquired as you moved to grab your purse. You wanted to shower, take your Ambien and sleep if possible. Insomnia had been your constant roommate the last year or so, why would tonight be any different?

“Um, yes, yeah. They put the bags in the master bedroom for you. I’ve made up the bed, there’s a bathroom in the room for you so you will have complete privacy. There’s a television and any streaming channel you could possibly want. I will make sure to have someone bring your cat to you once we’ve made the arrest.” Andy stood to guide you to the room you would call home for the next week or so.

“I don’t want to take your bedroom, please don’t let me be a bother at all. The guest room or any couch will be perfectly fine.” You followed Andy down the hall, finally agreeing to take the master suite. You walked over to the bed and started looking through all of the items and clothes that had been left. You couldn’t wait to step into a piping hot shower, letting the world fade away for just a bit.

“Well, I will leave you. If you need anything, please let me know. I will most likely be working out in the living room. There are snacks and food in the fridge, anything you want is yours.” Andy moved to stand in front of you, lifting your chin up so you would look at him. “It’s almost over, I promise. Now, try and rest, I will check in on you later.”

You thanked Andy, your skin still warm from his touch, and you could have sworn you saw something in his face, his eyes, something that made your stomach flutter and your heart pound. You shook your head telling yourself Andy could have his pick of any woman, the last thing he needed was one as broken as you.

You made your way to the bathroom stripping as you went, the bag of toiletries in your hand. The shower was hot and soothing, your back finding relief from the tension coiled there. As you stood under the hot stream, you cried. You cried for the loss of yourself, you cried for the loss of your love, you cried at the sheer relief of escape. You cried until you had nothing left.

You turned the shower off, and stepped out, so thankful Andy had the men pick up a fluffy robe. You wrapped yourself tightly and stood before the mirror, wiping the steam to look at your reflection. You applied your moisturizer, brushed your teeth, and made your way to the bed to change. You sat down and grabbed the sleep medication from your purse, taking two. It had been days since you had actually slept, and all you wanted for tonight was a chance to escape.

You laid down, your phone in hand as you scrolled through your updates from Jake. You texted from the burner phone Jake had set up for you, completely untraceable by anyone. Jake created this phone just for you and that thought had you in tears again. If it hadn’t been for Jake, you would never have been able to do this. You’d have been stuck in this endless cycle with Steve.

You responded to let Jake know what was going on, catching him up on your conversation with Andy, your requests, and how things were going to proceed. Jake begged you to be safe, letting you know he would check in with you tomorrow. You said goodnight and dropped the phone back in your purse.

You turned on the TV, and found one of your favorite movies streaming. As you leaned back against the pillows, you drifted off to sleep immediately, your meds and pure exhaustion kicking in. You hadn’t even changed your clothes, still dressed in only your robe on top of the bed, dreamless for a few hours, the only amount of rest your brain would allow.

You tossed and turned, your voice strangled as you tried to wake up, but you couldn’t out run him. Steve was all around and no matter where you turned, he was there. You tried to climb out of the darkness, but it enveloped you, blinding and suffocating you. You jumped up, gasping for air as you felt a pair of strong hands on your arms.

You screamed, thinking Steve had found you, completely forgetting where you were. Andy continued to hold you, trying to keep you from hurting yourself as you continued to blindly fight. Andy grabbed you, pulling you tightly into his embrace, holding you as you started to calm down, your tears wetting his shirt as you sobbed.

You finally calmed down enough to pull back and see the worried look on Andy’s face as he still held you, you finally relaxing into his embrace. You felt safe as Andy gently rocked you back and forth, his hand rubbing your back. Andy didn’t ask you about it and you didn’t offer any explanation, but you knew he understood where the panic had stemmed from.

You started to breathe evenly, your eyes slowly starting to close as you were lulled back to sleep by Andy. You startled awake when you felt him lay you down and cover you with the blanket. As he turned to leave the room, you grabbed his hand and pleaded with him not to leave you alone. Tonight, you needed him, not realizing that this was the exact moment your feelings started shifting towards this man and away from the one who hurt you while claiming it was love.

ANDY’S POV

Andy laid back down, staying above the covers, pulling you back to him, his arm around your waist as you quickly fell asleep again. What you didn’t know is that Andy was feeling the exact same shift in emotions, having been single for so long. Not to say Andy was a monk, but he had only accepted the physical from another person, always scared to make the emotional commitment too. All of that was different with you.

He thought you the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, everything from your hair to your smile instantly making him an addict. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to get you alone long enough to let you know who he was and what he wanted, but he was damn sure going to try.

He learned your patterns, watching you for about two weeks, non stop. He wouldn’t let anyone else do this, he needed you to trust him. He had seen the pictures, the marks, old ones fading while new ones littered your skin. He hadn’t given you enough credit though, which is how you surprised him when you turned around and asked him why he had been following you.

Andy was so impressed, you had rendered him speechless. As he stumbled to find the words, he almost felt like he was back in high school and talking to his crush for the first time. When he finally found his voice, he handed you his card, his personal cell phone written on the back. No one outside of his job had this number, Andy always trying to keep those around him safe. And now, you were the most important thing to him, the one thing he wanted to protect and cherish for the rest of your lives.

Andy felt crazy. He didn’t believe in love at first sight, but his first look at you had sealed his fate. You accepted the card, turning to head back to your car. Andy watched you pull away, looking away only when your car was out of his line of sight. Andy didn’t think you’d call. He thought it was going to take a few more encounters.

He waited every day, still making sure to keep you under his watch, even when you were at home. He knew what he was risking, but he couldn’t let you go. You called while he watched the light in your room turn on, making himself wait before he answered the call.

You agreed to meet him, and the moment he sat down across from you, he knew this was it. He was done. You had ruined him for any other woman. He couldn’t help but grab your hand to soothe you as you started to talk, Andy hanging on every word you said. When you agreed to leave with him, well, he couldn’t remember a time in his life that he had ever felt this happy.

He had never let anyone into his home before, always worried about privacy and protection, but with you, there was no other place he wanted you to be. He listened as you recounted you life with Steve, jealous at the way you spoke about Steve in the beginning, then wanting nothing more than to murder him with his bare hands by the end.

He didn’t pity you, he knew you didn’t need nor want that from him. He admired you, your strength, something he had never witnessed before. He was impressed at your ability to compile all of the necessary information before Andy even came into the mix. You were brave, you were fearless, and this only made Andy fall for you even more.

He not only learned about Steve, he also learned about you. He learned your passions, your likes, your dislikes, he learned what made you happy and what made you angry, he learned about you, the real you; the you who you thought was dead and buried. He learned it all, committing every last detail to memory. When all of this was done and Steve was locked away, he would give you all of this and more. He would give you anything you asked for.

He had wanted to kiss you when he walked you to the bedroom. Seeing you standing there in his space, his most sacred area in all of the world, it unlocked something inside of him. He wanted to grab you and kiss you stupid, but he knew you weren’t ready for that. He made himself leave, immediately making his way to the bar for another drink. It took all of his strength not to kiss you, throw you down on the bed and taste you until you couldn’t remember your own name, let alone Steve’s. He wanted to show you how you deserved to be treated, how you were the most important thing ever to exist.

He listened as the shower turned on, and all he could think about was the hot water running down your breasts, your hand running along your body, your cunt warm and inviting. He felt his pants tighten, his thoughts only on your naked body. He imagined himself between your thighs, one thrown over his shoulder as he ate you out, your wet pussy dripping your essence down his face. He imagined your scent trapped in his beard, his fingers coated in your slick as you came over and over.

He loosened his belt, opening his pants and pulling them down enough to free his thick and hard cock, the head coated in his precum. He gathered it on his hand, grabbed his dick and slowly started to stroke his shaft, making sure to wipe the tip every time he reached the top.

He imagined you turned around your face pressed against the wall as he entered from behind, your tight and warm pussy hugging him perfectly, as if it was made only for you. He started to stroke faster and faster as he pictured himself slowly fucking you, pulling you back to kiss your neck. He pictured your hips bouncing back to meet his thrusts, your moans the only thing he ever wanted to hear again.

As he felt himself about to cum, he wondered what you looked like when you came. He saw you in his mind, breathless and lost, your orgasm completely possessing your body and soul. As he pictured you cumming, he felt himself stutter, his thrusts into his hand uneven and rushed. He imagined your cunt squeezing his dick tightly as he came, his cum covering his hand and landing on his shirt. He panted as he tried to catch his breath, his ears filled with his heartbeat, his head filled with nothing but you.

After he cleaned himself off, he changed into sweats and a hoodie, needing a distraction to keep him from making his fantasy come true. He worked for hours, completely unaware of the time as the hours passed by. The drive you had given him was a dream for any lawyer; names, dates, every transaction on a credit card, any ticket, everything right at the tips of his fingers.

When he heard you cry out, he ran to the bedroom and threw open the door. You were still asleep, but you were crying and whimpering. He grabbed your arms and shook you, trying to wake you, but nothing worked. You screamed when you finally opened your eyes, trying to free yourself from Andy with your arms and legs.

When you had finally calmed and started to sleep, he tucked you in, dropping a kiss on your forehead before turning to walk away. Andy heard you stir and saw the look on your face, causing him to make his way back to the bed. He wanted to make sure you felt safe and comfortable, so he stayed on top of the covers.

He slipped his arm around you, pulling your body back against his, you fitting as if you were always meant his embrace. He felt you drift off again, following you into slumber not long after. Andy didn’t normally sleep, usually only three to four hours a night, but with you warm and safe in his embrace, he drifted off into the best sleep he could ever remember having. He would do everything in his power to make sure this is right where you stayed.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

You woke up warm and comfortable, having slept better than you could remember. You stretched and rolled over, snuggling into the chest, startling when you realized you weren’t alone. You looked up, Andy sleeping peacefully, his arm around you. You reached out, caressing his cheek, the soft motion happening before you even realized what you were doing.

Andy stirred, clearing his throat as he brought you in closer, resting his chin on the top of your head. You let the warmth pull you under again, and for the first time, you felt completely safe and protected. You didn’t know what it was about Andy that inspired such confidence in you, but he did, and you would enjoy every minute while you could.

You woke a little later to Andy rubbing his hand up and down your arm, slowly bringing you back to reality. You stirred, stretching out your body as you felt Andy chuckle, the rumble low and deep from his chest. You looked up at him questioningly, offended you were being laughed at.

“I’m not laughing at you, put the pout away,” he said, smiling down at you. “You stretch like a cat, full body and long.” You slapped him on his chest and sat up, only just now realizing you were still dressed in your robe, which was hanging precariously open . You asked what time it was, moving out of Andy’s embrace to go use the bathroom and start your day.

Andy informed you it was a little past ten in the morning, which shocked you. You never slept past six maybe seven at the latest. Andy said he’d go get some food started to let you have some time to get ready.

As you entered the living room, your mouth watered at the smell of whatever Andy had made. Your stomach gurgled loudly, causing Andy to chuckle as he sat a plate in front of you. You took a bite, closing your eyes in pure delight as the flavors hit your tongue. You and Andy ate in quiet yet comfortable silence, you grabbing the plates once you were both done eating. Andy fought you until you compromised and allowed him to help you clean up.

As Andy sat down to do some work, you reached out to Jake to check in, needing to hear his voice and know he was safe. Jake informed you Steve had returned home early and was anxious to find out what you had been up to. Jake managed to stave him off for a while saying you were with your mother for testing that would keep you occupied for a few hours. You thanked him, promising him you were safe and would reach out to Steve soon.

Andy continued working, asking you questions over everyone in the files, and what you knew about them. You stopped about an hour later and texted Jake you were going to call Steve. Jake set the heart monitor noise in the background as you used your personal cell phone which Jake kept located at the hospital.

You gave Steve an update, making sure to keep the noise consistent as Jake helped keep the call authentic. When you disconnected, you sighed and rolled your neck and shoulders, tension immediately setting in when you talked to Steve.

Andy closed his laptop and asked what you felt like for dinner, anything you wanted. You told him your favorite food, and of course Andy knew exactly where to order it from, shocking you when he chose your favorite restaurant. You quirked an eyebrow and looked over to see Andy shrug. You had told him your favorite place during your story, and Andy made sure to remember.

You felt yourself loosen up, your mood instantly boosted at the fact that you were heard, a feeling that hadn’t happened in a very long time. While you waited for the food to arrive, Andy poured you a glass of wine, your choice being a sweet moscato while he sipped on the same.

When the food arrived, you and Andy ate, him regaling you with tales of his most humorous and memorable cases. You couldn’t remember the last time you had laughed so hard, Andy pouring more wine for you both as the night continued. You both decided to throw on a show you’d been wanting to watch forever, but you didn’t even make it through the first thirty minutes before your breath evened out as you fell asleep on his lap.

Andy looked down and made sure to cover you with the blanket across your lap as he went back to work, quietly so as not to wake you up. Whenever you moved, he stilled until you settled, keeping you covered up. His hand eventually found its way into your hair, gently playing with the loose pieces as he continued working through more files.

Andy drifted to sleep a few hours later, his head resting on the back of the couch. You woke up, waking Andy up to head to bed. Andy followed you down the hall, and as you stood outside the door, you looked at him, asking him to stay again. Andy silently followed you in, getting under the covers this time before pulling you into him again.

This became the routine for you two, sleep, eat work, spending time together, then sleep. This was your comfort zone, where you wanted to be. You weren’t sure you would ever feel safe or comfortable after Steve, but you wouldn’t shut the door to this chance if it happened.

On the last day with Andy, the end of the week you had agreed to in the beginning, you found yourself sad, disappointed that this was coming to an end, the day moving way too quickly for your taste. Andy slammed the laptop shut, leaned back and took a deep breath. This was ending way too fast for him also. You looked up to see Andy glancing down at you, your head laid across his lap as he played with your hair, your breath catching at the look on his face, a look you hadn’t seen in a long time.

Andy reached out, running his thumb over the apple of your cheek, causing you to lean into the soft and sweet touch. You leaned forward, your lips ghosting over Andy’s, your breath soft and timid. Andy leaned in, deepening the kiss as you lost yourself in his touch. As you moved to straddle his lap, Andy stopped you, his breaths short as he looked at you.

You immediately pulled away, embarrassed and ashamed at his denial. As you stood to leave, tears falling freely, you felt Andy grab you. He pulled you into his embrace, whispering that as much as he wanted this, he didn’t want to go too fast. He didn’t want to lose you, now that he’d just finally found you.

He grasped your chin, making you meet his eyes, wanting you to believe his every word. Andy meant it, he wanted to take his time with you, explore you, he wanted to love you in a way you had never been loved, but he needed to make sure you felt the same while he also needed to keep you alive.

“It isn’t that I don’t want to,” he said softly, his thumbs wiping the tears away as they fell. “I need to be able to keep you safe, to keep you alive, and I cannot do that until Steve is gone. I also need to know this is real, that your feelings are for me and aren’t just grieving a loss or fill a need. This is real for me, so real. I have never felt this way about anyone in my life.” Andy searched your face, trying to find the answers to the questions he so desperately needed.

You reached out and ran your hand along his jawline as you stood up to kiss him, every answer left behind on his lips. He kissed you again, pulling himself away leaving both of you breathless. You entered the bedroom, immediately finding home in his embrace, trying to memorize every touch, every breath before you were pulled apart.

Andy held you, both of you kissing, afraid to drift to sleep. Eventually, you both fell off into a dreamless sleep, morning coming way too fast for either of you. You packed everything up, Andy giving him men orders. After the car was packed, you and Andy stood silent as you drank each other in one last time.

“I am the only one besides my men who will know where you are.” Andy pushed stray strands of hair behind your ear as he continued. “Jake has been secured complete immunity on the condition he becomes a top tech professional for the US government, all branches. He will be set for life and will be able to contact you whenever he pleases.”

You nodded, trying to prolong this moment, still not ready to say goodbye. Andy moved to the side, opening the door to the SUV you were to leave in. Jake stepped out, his large and goofy smile on his face as he grabbed you in a tight embrace, lifting you off the ground. You cried tears of relief knowing your best friend, well actually family, was still alive.

He handed you a phone, going over all of the features as this was the last piece of technology he would be able to make for you. This phone was encrypted with only himself and Andy able to call or text. You could make calls and text of course, however Jake had made this phone completely untraceable with a new phone number spoofed every time you used it. Jake was excited to begin this new chapter, but completely scared of what time would bring. You assured him this was not the end, that Andy had made sure you’d always be able to reach him, even see him anytime you wished. As Jake said goodbye, he quietly whispered about how much he liked Andy. He approved, and that meant more to you than anything else. You watched another vehicle pull in, and squeezed Jake one last time.

As Jake was swept off to begin his new life, you turned to Andy, almost immediately seeking out his comfort. Andy helped you into the back of the vehicle, making sure you were buckled in and secure before placing a kiss on your lips, urgent and filled with sadness at having to let you go. You promised this wasn’t forever, Andy promised he would come back for you as soon as Steve was gone. Andy watched you leave, turning to head inside and start the war.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

The cottage was so small and secure, Andy’s men splitting time between guarding you and also living next door. Andy made sure to call you every day, and every day, you received something from him. A book you’d wanted to read, your favorite fruit, anything that you mentioned, Andy made sure was yours.

It had been two months of non-stop contact, Andy reassuring you he was safe. He spared you the details of the raid, only letting you know that Steve was gone. The next day, you were awakened by gentle purrs and head bumps, opening your eyes to see your favorite cat.

It would be another few weeks before you were updated again, Andy unable to text and call daily the further the trial progressed. You’d kept tabs on the news, able to watch Steve’s empire fall. You felt a sense of relief pour through you once you’d read the headline detailing Steve Rogers fall from grace, his empire blown up from the inside out.

High ranking politicians, police, business men, other mafia contacts all brought down and eliminated by one Andrew Barber. You watched the trial end, Steve found guilty on all counts. Steve would never be free again, nor would he see the light of day, his sentence relocated to a very secure underground prison meant for the most dangerous men.

You waited for Andy, ready to finally be with this man who’d allowed you to live once again. With all of Steve’s people gone, it was safe for you to come back. You looked at your phone, waiting for a call, a text, anything to let you know Andy was coming back, but it never came. Another week passed with nothing from Andy. You called Jake to catch up with him, so proud of him. He was the most important and sought after commodity to national security, and you couldn’t be happier for him.

You were about to give up on Andy, resigning yourself to the fact you had once again trusted the wrong man. You snuggled with your cat, finally allowing your tears to fall. You fell asleep snuggled up, his purrs lulling your anxiety.

You were awakened a short while later, a hand on your cheek while gentle kisses were peppered down the side of your face. You opened your eyes, immediately seeing the one person you wanted more than anyone.

“Andy,” you breathed, immediately falling into his embrace. He kissed you, needy and rushed, wanting nothing more than to be here with you in this moment. He pulled away, his forehead resting on yours as he panted.

“Hi. I came as soon as I could,” he said, twining his fingers with yours. You leaned into him, kissing him again, holding him so close. You looked around, making sure the two of you were alone. He assured you the men were away in their place, that the two of you were finally and completely alone.

Andy gently laid you back, removing his shirt before climbing up to meet your lips. You sighed as he started to kiss your neck, softly nibbling, licking, kissing as he made his way down. He stopped at your collarbones, his hands sliding up your sides as you moved to remove your tank top, offering him access to the breasts he’d dreamed about since the first moment he saw you.

He nipped your nipple, taking it in his mouth as he bit and worked it over, removing his mouth to allow the cold air to hit as he worked over your other nipple, alternating between the two before moving his kisses down your stomach, his hands grabbing your shorts, pulling them down as he went.

You leaned back as he kissed up from your ankle to the knee, ending at the top of your thigh as he moved to the other leg, making his way down from your thigh to your ankle, chuckling when you huffed in frustration, so close yet still no relief. Andy made his way back up, your hands finding his hair as he finally reached where you wanted him most.

He inhaled your scent, losing all control as he dove in, his tongue licking up and down your wet slit, your moans sweeter than he ever imagined. He moved to your clit, sucking the small bundle between his teeth as he slid two fingers into you. Andy almost came right there, your pussy more sweet and soft than he had dreamed.

He worked his fingers in and out, sucking relentlessly as he felt your cunt tighten and squeeze, knowing you were close. He rubbed his clothed cock on the bed, seeking any type of relief while he made you scream, your cries overtaking every sense. He continued suckling, over and over, your juices running down his hand as he made you cum again and again, not letting up until you pushed his head away.

He kissed his way up, stopping at your breasts again, almost making you cum again from the sensitivity as he landed at your mouth. You kissed him deeply, your taste spurring you on more and more. You flipped him over, straddling his lap, his hard cock rubbing over your already oversensitive pussy.

Andy lifted his hips, allowing you to pull his pants down, grabbing his cock, dragging the tip up and down your wet slit, causing Andy to thrust up. You positioned him at your entrance, slowly sinking down inch by inch, his cock filling you to the brim.

You started to rotate your hips, keeping his dick nestled deeply inside, the motion making him still, allowing you to take what you needed from him. This was all about you, what made you happy, what made you feel good, marveling at how beautiful you looked in this light, fucked out yet still fucking.

You leaned down, your hair covering his face as he grabbed it and pulled you closer, kissing you slowly and deeply, following your rhythm. You rode him slow, barely lifting off his cock, taking him so deep you felt him in every part of your pussy, warm and slow.

As you continued fucking him, you sped up, your head thrown back in ecstasy as you balanced your hands on his chest. You bounced harder, your hips swiveling, feeling your orgasm building higher and higher. You continued your pace, chasing your end as you felt Andy thrust up, meeting you.

You let go, your cunt gripping him tightly as you cried out, his name the only word you seemed to know. You felt him still, his hot cum shooting into you, as he kept himself buried deep, not wanting to ever leave the shelter of your pussy.

You laid down across him, panting as your heart started to return to normal, your breaths short and shallow. Andy rubbed his hand up and down your back, his hot breath in your ear. He kissed you over and over, letting you know that this is what he had wanted for you. He wanted you to feel safe with him, knowing he would never do what Steve had.

You fell into a deep sleep, his now softening cock still sheathed fully as he continued to comfort you, making sure you were resting and comfortable. This moment was more than he had ever felt he deserved, and you would never be alone again.

His phone lit up, silenced to make sure you weren’t disturbed. He opened his texts, one message popping open from an unknown number. “It’s done, everyone is asleep.” Andy sent a message acknowledging he’d received it, closing his phone, placing it to the side nightstand. You moved, moaning from the action, Andy keeping completely still.

Andy was a man of few words, but many secrets; he would tell you one day, but for now, this Andy would be all you knew, the prosecutor so in love with you, he would end the world. Andy thought back to his conversation with his most trusted man, Curtis. Curtis had been with Andy from the beginning, helping him build an empire so secret, no one knew who the actual leaders were.

Andy sat silently as he processed the news Curtis had sent. Steve was gone, never to be seen nor heard from again, along with all of his men, leaving Andy in charge, Andy who now had a direct line to Jake.

Every last person in those files had been handled, allowing Andy to silently seize control. As he looked down at you again, he felt so warm and loved. Andy wasn’t sure of much, but he was very sure of one thing: No one else would get to hurt you again, you were his.

#missys3500challenge #Mafia Steve Rogers #Andy Barber #jake jensen #Soft dark Steve Rogers #andy barber x you #andy barber x reader #andy barber and you #steve rogers au #steve rogers smut #andy barber angst #andy x reader #andy barber smut #jake jensen the losers #chris evans characters #first time mafia au #andy barber fluff #soft andy

[myfanficlibraries]

Steve Rogers

Alpha!Steve

1) Grain of Truth by @biteofcherry       Soft Dark Series

2) Halloween With Your Werewolf Knight by @witchywithwhiskey       Princess Reader       Smut

3) Why Can’t We Be Friends by @cockslutpadalecki

Fluff

1) Air Conditioning by @bict

2) Hand Holding by @angrythingstarlight       Biker!Steve

3) Nice to be Kneaded by @rogersideup       Nomad!Steve       Ongoing Series

4) Society Says by @invisibleanonymousmonsters       Tall Reader

5) Threadbare by @ronearoundblindly       Completed Series       Some violence

6) Too Many Wingmen by @beccaanne814

Mafia AU

1) As Long as You’re Mine by @secretswiftymarvelfan

2) Cherry by @biteofcherry       Enforcer!Steve       Smut

3) Heart’s Munition by @crazyunsexycool       Ongoing Series       Single Mom Reader

4) Mafia!Dad Steve Rogers by @sweetsbfreex

5) Nesting by @biteofcherry       Soft Dark

6) Sink Into Me by @simmerandwrite       Ongoing Series

Smut

1) Cuffed by @sidepartskinnyjeans

2) Music to My Ears by @royalsweetteaa

3) Overstimulation by @myfictionaldreams       40′s Steve

4) Steve Rogers Alphabet Masterlist by @universitypenguin

Soft Dark

1) In the Balance by @goodgirlofglory       Ongoing Series

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #soft dark!steve rogers #alpha!steve rogers #mafia!steve rogers #mob!steve rogers #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers smut #steve rogers master list #steve rogers masterlist

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖Make it Stick: Pt. 1 The Dragon

Rating: Explicit

Chapter Rating: Mature

Pairing: Bucky x ofc x Steve

Word Count: 1103

Tags: dark!fic, mob/mafia au, mob!Bucky, mob!Steve, dubcon/noncon, sexual coercion, half-sibling incest, m/f/m, non-con drug use, mentions of torture (non graphic), double penetration, forced tattooing, forced orgasms, enemies to lovers

Summary: When his babygirl—his sweet pea, little one, puppy ... half-sister—is recaptured after her latest attempt at running away, Bucky makes a power play in front of the entire Bratva to remind her exactly who she belongs to.

Dark and smutty content below the break. Consume responsibly.

“Да. Good. Make sure she stays that way. Now, tell me everything.” Bucky listens to his henchman’s answer, pissed in general but only getting truly angry when he hears one specific detail. “She was with who?! Ублюдок!!” He takes the phone away from his face for a second as he curses in three different languages. Fucking Gleb. He fucking knew it. He’s going to cut his fucking dick off! When he brings the phone back up to his face, all he utters is a deathly quiet, “We’re in the Dragon’s Den. Get them here. Both of them.” He ends the call.

The gun at Bucky’s back has stopped buzzing. Funny, how it’s the sudden lack of pain that makes goosebumps rise to his skin. “Boss?” Natasha asks.

Bucky’s eyes flick over to Steve, who’s sitting next to the Karpovs on the couch. One moment of intense eye contact between the two of them, and Steve’s face goes wan in recognition. Tight-lipped, Bucky gives an almost imperceptible nod of confirmation. Steve squares his shoulders and pushes up to standing to go over to the bar. The guy has an almost preternatural ability to predict Bucky’s wants and needs, which is one reason why he’s risen through the ranks so fast (well, it's one, leastways). He artfully flips a lowball, knowing what this situation calls for without having to be told; ice and two fingers of the Russo-Baltique that’s so expensive, Bucky once stabbed a guy’s hand into a table for drinking it without permission.

Steve delivers the glass and retreats to stand sentinel along the wall. Bucky sips, sets it down, growls and grabs it up again. He rolls the liquor in his mouth as he fumes, a dark plan starting to form in his head. It comes together quickly, because it’s not like he hasn’t spent plenty of time fantasizing about it before now. What he’d do when he finally got her back.

His little one is tenacious and likes to make trouble. She has a penchant for running away, but she’s never lasted this long before. It’s been over ten months—long enough to put the fear of God in Bucky that he could actually lose her for good, if he isn’t more careful. So, he has to be careful, has to make a statement, send a message. He has to make it stick.

Luckily, when it comes to “sending messages,” Bucky Barnes can be very creative. Like tattooing, torture is an oft underappreciated artform. “Dimi,” he barks. “I’m expecting some special guests tonight. Go and sort things out downstairs. I want the place packed by ten—Make sure it’s with the right people.”

“Boss?” Lev pipes up, confused. He’s Karpov’s kid brother: new, inexperienced but eager, still “earning his scales,” as the boys like to say.

Dimitri jerks his head for his brother to follow him. “Boss wants a demonstration. C’mon.” He’s already got his phone out as they leave the room to get things arranged. Bucky’s “demonstrations” usually require plastic sheeting and a crowd of people who are either Hydra themselves, or else educated enough to know to keep their mouths shut about Bratva business.

“Where’d they find her?” Steve asks.

Bucky scoffs, still fuming. “Floating off the coast of Belize. On my own fucking yacht. Can you even believe that?”

“Sounds like her.”

“Lena?” Nat hums. “Who’d you send?”

“Maximoff and Belova have her.” Bucky grits his teeth at the sting as Natasha uses a wet cloth to wipe off the excess blood and ink. He can feel her scrutinizing her work. “You can keep going,” he tells her, but she ‘tsks’ in that way that only a Russian tongue can really do.

“We’ll come back to it. Skin behaves differently when you’re not relaxed.”

“I’m am relaxed!” He hears how ridiculous he sounds and heaves a long sigh, trying to let his shoulders untense to at least somewhere below the level of his ears. “I’m relaxed.”

“Keep saying it and it might come true.” Nat rolls away on her stool, peeling off her gloves with finality. “Your blood pressure and vodka’ll push the ink out faster than I can stick it. Just come over to the Red Room once it’s done scabbing and we’ll finish it then.”

She’s already packing up her stuff when Bucky gets the idea. “Wait.” He narrows his eyes at the rolling toolkit that Nat keeps in the club’s upstairs lounge just for him and his men. “Do me a favor,” he says slowly, the idea taking shape in his mind. “Run down to the shop and print out a transfer for me. Cyrillic. A small font. Something pretty but … bold. Easy to read.”

Natasha tenses. “What do you want it to say?”

“собственность дракона.”

“No,” she says, and when Bucky looks over, she’s standing ramrod straight.

“Clearly, you disapprove.”

“I’m not inking it.”

“I’m not asking you to,” he snaps, low on patience tonight, even for Natasha. “Print it out on a goddamn transfer sheet and bring it to me.”

She’s doing that dead faced thing she does—where she goes still like a doll to avoid making some expression she doesn’t want you to see. Right now, Bucky suspects it might be sheer disdain. “Size?” she asks. “Shaping?”

“One line straight up the forearm. Delicate lettering, but clear as a fucking bell to read.”

“That still doesn’t tell me what spacing—”

“You know how big she is, you figure out the fucking spacing!” he yells. “Or what the fuck am I even paying you for?!”

Natasha goes eerily still, then abruptly pivots to leave, the severe line of her hair whipping around with the motion. She’s unhappy with him.

“Red ink!” Bucky calls out, the door slamming shut after her a millisecond later. He grinds his teeth together and stands up from the chair he’s been perched in for the past three hours, carrying his drink over to the mirrors so that he can get a better look at his back.

Scales, teeth, claws. Crouched and curling across his shoulders, tendrils creeping up onto his neck, marking him as what he is: Дракон.

The Dragon.

“Will you help me?” he asks Steve, quiet now that it’s just the two of them.

“Depends on what you want me to do.”

“It depends”—No other man in the Bratva could give such an answer and expect to remain in one piece. But Steve’s gaze is steadfast when Bucky meets it and tells him, “She’s gotten away with too much for too long. It’s time to shorten the leash.”

In the mirror, Steve’s eyes darken. He nods.

Take me to part 2!

Masterlist

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Commissions: contact via Tumblr messenger or Kofi

#bucky barnes #steve rogers #steve rogers x bucky barnes #marvel #mcu #stucky #fanfiction #fanfic #mob bucky barnes #mob bucky x reader #mob bucky au #mafia au #mafia bucky barnes #mafia bucky x you #dark fanfic #dark bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x oc #steve rogers/reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #stucky x reader #stucky x you #stucky x y/n #mafia steve rogers #dark steve rogers

[binkszamsstuff]

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🤷🏻‍♀️❤️

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.

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.

#steve x you #steve rogers series #steve x reader #steven grant rogers #dark steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steven grant #steve rogers #dark captain america #dark!steve #dark steve x reader #dark steve x you #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers au #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers angst #mob steve rogers #mafia steve rogers #mob Steve rogers x reader #mafia Steve rogers x reader #Spotify

[huffelpuff210]

His Obsession Part 2

Chapter 2

Warning: Kidnapping, drugging, aggressive behavior, forced relationship, forced marriage. Mentions of past abuse

You’re heavy eyelids slowly flutter open, You don’t recognize the room, It’s was modern with a little bit of a barn look to it, gray walls, Barn looking furniture and A wooden bed frame, You slowly sit up You look down you are still in you’re scrubs, the bed was huge, with dusted red colored bed sheets and blankets, You’re head hurt as you were trying to make sense of what happened the door opens, You see then man you ran into a few weeks ago. He hand a glass of juice in his hand, 

“Morning sweetheart,” He says with a smile 

You were extremely confused he was smiling at you as if what had happened was completely normal. 

He chuckled I guess the look on you’re face told him everything. He set the glass on the end table. 

“I guess you have a few questions.” He chuckles 

“First off I am James Barnes but everyone calls me Bucky, I am the boss of the Mafia they call me the king of New York.” He says 

You’re eyes widen realizing why he looked so familiar, 

“Why did you bring me here?” You asked 

He smirked 

“Because I think it’s about time to settle down with someone.” He says smiling at me

You’re eyes widen 

“W-Why me?” You asked 

“Because you weren’t afraid of me.” He says his hand on you’re cheek

“You can’t do this,” You say 

He grips you’re chin, 

“I can an will.” He says smiling down at you 

“I’ll call the police.” You say glaring at him 

“Go ahead doll, this entire city is under my control, no matter who you call, I guarantee they are on my pay roll.” He says 

“No matter where you run I will find you.” He says smirking down at you

He forces you to you’re feet where you’re feet almost give out. he easily catches you. 

“Easy doll,” He says smirking down at you 

“You’re probably still under the effects of the sedative.” He says You just give him a really looking knowing he’s the one who forced you to you’re feet. 

“Now listen closely you are going to do as I say when I say it.” He says 

You glare at him. 

“And if I don’t?” You ask

“There will be consequences.” He says 

“Punishments to be exact.” He says 

His hands skimming over you’re sides 

His thumb pulling you’re lower lip down. 

“But if you’re good you get rewarded.” He says kissing the side of you’re neck. 

You try to push him away but he doesn’t budge. You don’t know what came over you but you Kneed him between the legs and right hooked him and sprang to you’re feet, sprinting out of the room and out of the house, there was nothing for miles as you took in you’re surroundings You shook you’re head and ran towards the woods it would be harder for him to find you. It would be you’re best chance to get away all you knew was you needed to get away from him, King of New York or not you were not giving in to a power hungry powerful man like him, He knew people and by the looks of it he got what he wanted and no one says no to him. You keep running twigs and leaves crunching under you’re bare feet. You look over you’re shoulder to see if anyone is following you. You only see one man, He’s big like James and tall, he’s got sandy blonde hair, You trip only to roll down an embankment rolling the world spinning as you roll grunting as you hit rocks, twigs and branches, once you stop rolling you realize you are on a road, you pick a direction and start sprinting, you see a car and flag it down asking frantically for a ride into town, the driver happily takes you. Only then you realize you are able to breath only then do you see the man that was chasing you talking on the phone glaring at you from behind the vehicle as he get smaller and smaller the further the car drives. You knew this wasn’t going to be easy but you knew you had to run. to do everything in you’re power to stay away from James who wanted a different fate than you wanted. You knew it was going to be a challenge, But if you learned anything from you’re stepfather is running was something you were very good at.  

#dark avengers #dark bucky x reader #original character #dark steve rogers #dark tony stark #dark marvel #mafia