#series.whoweare

[sincerelythedarkside]

Who We Are || Part VII

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers x Dark!Reader

Please do not repost/translate anywhere. Comments/reblogs are welcomed ♥

Summary: You know what you want out of life. You want to be loved—to be safe. You want to be taken care of and to take care of someone who will appreciate it. But you’ve been shackled, trapped in a never-ending nightmare. And your only saving grace will be enticing the dark side of America’s golden hero to want you—a game of who’s manipulating who.

SERIES WARNINGS: 18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI. Dubcon sex, noncon/rape, somnophilia, manipulative behaviour, possessive behaviour, dark themes. Do NOT read if these are triggering for you.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: explicit smut. oral (female and male receiving), unprotected sex, praise kink, creampie. Unbeta'd.

[Set after Civil War & the Accords were abolished]

Note: *deep inhale* steve. That's all. Thank you so much for the support so far!

PART I || PART II || PART III || PART IV || PART V || PART VI

Count: ~5.4k (whoops)

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Steve slotted his lips over yours over and over, grinding his pelvis into you.

Your brow pinched as you slowly opened your eyes. Steve looked consumed in his desires as he held you tighter. He undid your robe, letting his fingertips trail from your ribs and dragging down further.

His touch left goosebumps in their wake. Your leg hiked up higher onto his hip as you caressed his jaw.

"Steve," you breathed, chest heaving as he opened his eyes and zeroed in on him. "I need you."

You didn't want any more foreplay. You weren't familiar with it, and it was giving you knots in your stomach you thought you'd long forgotten.

One goal, you reminded yourself. Your one goal was to fuck Steve and make him feel good. This wasn't about you, and you couldn't afford to fall.

Henry had never once made you feel good. The pleasure was his and his alone, and you hadn't minded. Your pain, your misery, your body belonged to Henry. But your pleasure? That still belonged to you, and you weren't about to give to Steve here. You had no plans to give it to him ever.

Steve peered down at you, taking in your swollen lips and disheveled hair. He could feel the heat of your skin, and he wanted to live in you.

"Don't rush me," he muttered as he palmed your breast again, shaping you in his hand. He tweaked at your nipple, licking his lip when you let out a low groan, hips bucking. "Wanna feel you, sweetheart. Been waitin' so long...don't rush me."

All you could do was bite down on your tongue when he drifted his fingers between your wet folds, sliding up and down a few times before he circled your clit firmly.

"Shit, Steve— " you gasped, thighs tensing.

"So wet for me," Steve brought his two fingers up, slipping them into his mouth as he gave a greedy suck and a groan. "Oh, shit, you taste so good. Wanna really taste you..."

You immediately sat up, latching your hands to Steve's pants as you undid them, pushing them down and off him with his help. Steve was too attentive.

In ways, he was similar to Henry.

You could see it in Steve's eyes as he stared at you. It wasn't about your pleasure for the sake of your pleasure. Just like Henry, he wanted to own your body—dominate it.

But unlike Henry, who just took and took without giving, Steve was nothing, if not a giver.

Steve wanted your pleasure, to make you cum for him. He wanted you to clench around his cock as he fucked you because he wanted you to truly fall for him. And to Steve? There was nothing truer than uncontrolled pleasure.

His dress shirt was gone after his pants and boxer as you began to pump him. You noticed immediately that he was larger than Henry, thicker too.

You had to get him to the point of desperation.

Steve watched, hot desire in his eyes as you licked his tip, as if almost unsure. But then you dragged your tongue down his length and back up along the vein on his cock, and he felt his heart thud into his chest.

"You taste good too, Stevie..." you looked up at him through your lashes as you swiped away at his pre-cum.

Shit, when you called him Stevie...he had to take a deep breath to calm himself down. It was short-lived as you pushed this tip through your mouth before swallowing more and more of him.

When he hit the back of your throat, he felt your mouth constrict slightly. You stroked what you couldn't put in your mouth before you worked your head up and down his length. Your hands and mouth working in tandem to wrack pleasure through him.

"Fuck," Steve groaned as he gripped your hair, hips unwillingly bucking into your mouth. "Doing so well, sweetheart. Taking me so well in that pretty little mouth of yours."

You tried to ignore how your own slick was dripping down your thigh as Steve praised you, stroking your cheek as you hollowed them.

"Shit, shit, shit...hold on, you're gonna make me blow," Steve gripped your hair to pull you back. You looked wrecked with tears in your eyes and saliva running down your chin.

Steve pushed you back onto the mattress as he kissed you, nose bumping into yours as he slotted himself messily.

"What's the rush?" Steve breathed as he grabbed his cock, stroking it up and down through your folds. "You're so fucking wet, sweetheart. Is that all for me?"

"Stevie..." you whimpered. "Need you now. Please, please, please."

You felt Steve grip the bedsheets beside your head as he listened to you beg him and let the words that you knew would push him right over the edge.

"Ruin me, Steve..."

It was all Steve could take before he sank into you with one hard thrust.

The sudden fullness in you made you gasp, a shiver zapping your body.

"Oh, shit," Steve groaned as he pressed hot, wet kisses on your neck. "So tight, honey. So good, so fucking good."

Steve only managed to stay still for a moment before he pulled out slowly and snapped his hips forward. You gripped his biceps tightly, moaning as you tried to match his rhythm.

Your entire body felt flush, heat building higher and higher every time Steve's thick cock pounded you. His hand slipped lower, thumb rubbing against your clit had you crying out loudly.

Steve was hellbent on making you cum first, it seemed. And your body wasn't used to pleasure being wrought out.

"You look so pretty takin' my cock, sweetheart," Steve moaned in your ear. "Such a good girl, takin' it so well. Wanna see you lose it. Want you to squeeze me tight."

"Fuck," you involuntarily swore, his praise making you light up. At this rate, you weren't going to last, and you were hellbent on having some semblance of control. "Steve..."

You could feel yourself losing it, and you immediately pushed on Steve's chest.

"What's—" Steve started to say, but you cut him off.

"I wanna cum on top," you told him, and he let you roll him over.

The momentary pause gave you enough to stave off your orgasm, and you mentally sighed in relief.

Fuck. Terrible sex with Henry didn't prepare you for this. You can't remember the last time someone made you cum. A part of you knew it could be good because at least Steve cared about those things for you. But you were determined on at least keeping your pleasure yours.

Being on top of Steve gave you more control over the movements as you began to ride him slowly.

"Oh, god," Steve screwed his eyes shut. "Baby, I need you to move faster."

"Feels so good, Steve..." you mumbled as your palms pressed against his chest.

You needed to make him cum first. Make him feel like you're falling over the edge together.

"You're hitting me so deep," you continue, watching the way his eyes fluttered. "So big. Want you to cum inside me and fill me all up."

"Sweetheart," he keened, his hips thrusting upwards as he grabbed your hips. "I'm gonna—"

"Me too," you leaned down to press a kiss to his lips. "Let go with me."

You let out a deep moan into his mouth as you clenched over and over on Steve's cock. He thrust his lips against yours, groaning in the back of his throat as he came. The mess of fluids made it hard to tell whose was whose.

Still, Steve seemed to buy it as you slumped against him.

You could feel his cock steadily pumping in you before he softened slowly. Rolling you back onto the bed, he pulled out, drawing a soft moan from both of you.

"Let me clean you up," Steve pressed a tender kiss to your temple before he got up and walked to the washroom.

You were still catching your breath. There was an odd tension from your body, probably because you hadn't cum despite being so close.

It was uncomfortable, but you still felt a mild victory from being able to stave off your own orgasm.

The control was still yours.

Steve came out with a damp, warm towel and cleaned you up diligently.

"Do you need me to pick up some, um," Steve stuttered. "Plan B?"

You shook your head. "No, I have the IUD."

Steve merely nodded before he climbed into bed next to you, wrapped his arms around you as he pulled you close. He pressed kisses along your shoulder and back, and you sighed pleasantly.

"I love you," Steve said against your skin. "You're my best girl. Gonna keep you forever."

You turned in his arms, bringing your hand up to caress his cheekbone, watching his eyes flutter closed.

"I love you, too," you said with a small smile before you kissed his lips chastely. "Sweet dreams."

Steve muttered, "Sweet dreams," and allowed you to turn over once more before he pulled you as close as he could.

Steve fell asleep quickly after he had helped clean the mess between your thighs. He slept soundly, pressed up against your back, arms wrapped around you tightly and face into your shoulder.

You lay there on your side, staring into the dark. Your body felt warm, but you felt wound up, and you hated it. You hated Steve for dredging up emotions that you weren't even sure what they were. All you know is you hate what he was capable of doing to your body.

Hot tears welled in your eyes suddenly, and you closed your eyes quickly to keep them in. You took a deep breath in to calm yourself. You needed to control yourself. So close, you were so close.

Sleep wouldn't come easily to you, so you spent the night planning your next move—specifically what you were going to do when Henry was out of the picture.

If you wanted to be free, then you would have to turn Steve in.

What news it would be.

Captain America becoming so obsessed with you, he killed a wealthy businessman who disproved of him. Whatever happened to him after was none of your concern. As long as you stayed in the public's eye, he could never come close to you again.

You heard Steve sleepily mumble as he pulled you closer, intertwining your legs together. He was like a furnace, his body heat abnormally high, but you didn't mind.

You shifted back closer to him, your hand drifting to his over your stomach. You laced your fingers through his.

Steve was the same as the rest of them, you reminded yourself. And if you wanted to be free, then Steve couldn't have you either.

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵

"I'll call you," Steve smiled gently as he stroked your cheek and brushed his lips against your cheek. "We'll figure this out, don't stress too much, okay? I'll take care of it."

You nodded with a small smile as you leaned in to catch his lips in a chaste kiss. You could hear Steve sigh faintly in a pleased manner.

"Will you stop by my work tonight?" You asked.

Steve pursed his lip regretfully. "Probably not tonight, sweetheart. I need to stop by the Compound myself and get home to talk to Sharon."

You put on a guilty face, and Steve immediately caresses your brow, smoothing out the wrinkle.

"Hey, none of that," he tells you softly. "It's not your fault, you hear me? I can't help how I feel and it would've been over at some point anyway. I haven't felt anything for Sharon in a while."

"I'm sorry," you still pitifully say to him, and he merely presses another kiss to your temple.

"It'll be alright, just let me take care of it. Go on, now. I'm sure your mom is expecting you." Steve got out of the car and jogged around to your side to let you out.

You give him a smile, refraining from PDA.

You go through the gates, waving to Steve one last time, and heard his car drive away. You idly think about the morning. Steve had luckily woken up later than usual. You had narrowly staved off Steve's attempt for morning sex, citing you needed to get home immediately before your mum worried too much.

Henry should be gone to work, and you felt lucky to have the morning to relax.

As you got into the house, you found your mother awake, nursing what you'd assume was a mimosa and lazily watching TV.

"This early?" You pursed your lips disapprovingly at her, and she waves you off.

"It's brunch time, dear," she said, and you sigh.

"Did you have fun last night?" Your mum asked you, and you smiled at her.

"I did. It was wonderful, thanks for letting me stay out," you told her as you kissed the crown of her head.

"You should try to find more friends to stay out late with, you're so young still," your mum said without looking at you. "Tell me the next time you want to stay out. I'll let Henry know."

You don't say anything because it would be unlikely for Henry to ever let you stay out the night regularly.

You hummed noncommittally. "I'm going to head upstairs and sleep a little more."

"Okay, love you," your mum absently said.

"Love you too."

As you went upstairs and settled in your room, your phone began to ring. Recognizing the number, you smiled.

"Hey, got an update?" You asked as you sat on your bed. "Yeah? Perfect! Thank you so, so much. I'll transfer you the money."

When you got off the phone, you let out a sigh. There was so much to do left before you went to work. You let yourself rest for a couple of minutes before getting up and opening your laptop.

With Steve's birthday coming up in just about a month, you wanted to make sure everything was perfect.

Because if you could give him everything he wanted in one day, you could also take it all away the next.

And that would push Steve over the edge.

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You arrived to work early, sitting in the breakroom as you did your makeup tediously. Your eyes were rimmed red because of Henry when he came home.

He fucked you mercilessly in the backseat of his car before he dropped you off at work. You had been barely wet enough to endure his painful thrusts and harsh grips on your waist, let alone get anywhere close to coming.

It was over in less than five minutes, and Henry apologized after as he collapsed over you, breath heaving. He said it had just been too long since he had you. Before letting you out of his car, he gave you a necklace, as if knowing all along he would be too rough with you.

You smiled tightly as you thanked him. Once inside, you dropped his necklace in your purse to be forgotten.

Before you could do your eyeliner and mascara, you sat still, taking deep breaths in and out until you felt calm. After finishing your makeup, no one could even tell your eyes had been red in the first place.

"Hey, we're on a few minutes, you ready?" Jeff popped in and asked.

"Yeah," you turned and smiled at him, fixing the last strays of your hair.

"You sure have good friends," Jeff said with a smirk. "I don't have anyone who comes as often to watch me."

You tilted your head with confusion. "What do you mean?" You asked.

"Well," Jeff sighed. "I guess it's usually Steve."

You furrowed your brows. "Is Steve here?" You asked, but you were sure that he wouldn't be. After all, he must be fighting with Sharon right now.

Jeff shook his head. "No, no. It's one of the other ones. Shit, what was her name?" Jeff held his chin in deep thought before his eyes lighted up. "Oh, right! Wanda!"

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵

Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

You were trying to keep yourself calm and your mind empty, but it was hard when you were freaking the fuck out. You still sang like nothing was wrong, but your fingers were trembling.

Right at one of the front tables sat Wanda Maximoff all alone. She wore a red jumpsuit with an opaque white shawl to cover her arms. You couldn't read her expression, mostly because she sat leaned back in her chair with her eyes closed as if she were enjoying your singing.

When the show ended, you made your usual rounds for tips, and as you stopped by hers, she slid $100 across the table at you.

"You sing beautifully," she complimented, and you smiled nervously.

"Thanks," you said. "It's good to see you again."

You were about to leave again, not even bothering to ask her why she was here alone because you really did not want to know.

"Come sit with me when you're done your shift," Wanda invited you, but you knew it was non-negotiable.

"It'll be a while," you told her, hoping to deter her.

Wanda quirked her eyebrow at you. "I'll be here."

You gave a stiff nod before you went on your way again. You went much slower, only prolonging the inevitable. True to Wanda's word, she did remain seated at the table the entire time, managing to keep herself occupied on her phone and sipping on a cocktail.

Briefly, just for a moment, you wondered if you could just sneak out, but as if Wanda heard your thoughts, she looked up at you.

Accepting defeat, though no less worried, you wiped your sweaty palm on your dress as you made your way and sat down across from her.

"Hi," you said nervously.

Wanda nodded.

Silence draped over the two of you, and it only served to make you more anxious. Wanda appraised you slowly, her eyes tracing your face and going down your entire body before the table covered it.

"You're nervous," she commented.

You don't say anything.

Wanda adjusted herself to lean back in her seat as she crossed her legs and arms over her chest. "I was quite curious when I met you yesterday. It's not often that outsiders make it into our group."

"Outsiders...?" You muttered feebly.

"Civilians," Wanda clarified. "As friends, is what Steve wants to call it."

You're not really sure what to make of what Wanda is saying. You have no idea what she wants from you. All you know is that she thinks you're an outsider. Therefore, you say nothing.

"You know," Wanda started. "At the party, Steve came to find me. He asked what I thought about you—if I could provide any insight on your worries. I'm sure you're aware of what my powers are, the Accords made them public, after all."

You bristled. Was she threatening you? You wondered immediately what she had told Steve. It couldn't have been anything bad because he had slept with you still last night.

Wanda watches you squirm, and her lips give a small upwards quirk.

"I told him I couldn't read anything from you. Silent as if you had a mental shield," Wanda confessed, and your body relaxed immediately, shoulders slumping. "I lied to him. I saw everything."

You almost wanted to scream. Wanda was yanking your chain, and she was getting a kick out of it.

"Why are you here?" You bit out at her. "What do you want from me?"

Wanda didn't reply to you immediately, she merely held your gaze, and now you know it was because she was probably reading your thoughts. She was probably looking at how you were using Steve, your thoughts as you slept with him.

You hated it, but you knew there was nothing you could do.

"Truthfully, I just want to understand you," Wanda finally spoke slowly.

"Understand me...?" You repeated back to her confusedly.

Wanda nodded. She finally uncrossed her body as she leaned forward. Her body language open made you relax.

"You know, within our group, I'm everyone's worst and favorite teammate," Wanda rested her head in her hand. "No one's secret is safe from me but their secrets are also safe with me."

You stared at Wanda, simply letting the other girl talk.

"Not many of us are as good as you think," Wanda revealed, and you couldn't help but focus on how soft her voice was with her accent. It was slight, obviously slowly going away, but still there. "Except for Vision, all of us have a darkness in us that will never go away."

You swallowed. Wanda had looked away when she said it but then looked back at you.

"I know why you approached Steve," she said. "I know what your stepfather is doing to you."

You're not sure what it was. Maybe it was the fact that what was happening to you was acknowledged aloud, but it immediately made your eyes sting and your breath hitch.

"You could've gone to the Avengers for help," she said softly, and the words made you irrationally angry.

"Don't pretend to know what I'm going through—"

"Don't assume," Wanda cut you off sharply. She swallowed, taking a deep breath as if to calm herself. "I understand more than you think."

Your heart sank at her words. By god, you hoped she hadn't meant Vision was...was...

No.

You saw them at the party. Wanda had never looked more enamored by someone when she looked at her boyfriend. She also just said Vision may be the only truly good person on their team.

But you couldn't imagine someone on the team hurting her like that.

You would never know, and Wanda didn't seem like she was going to tell you.

But it was enough. To know that Wanda understood was enough.

"I'm on your side but I don't think you've thought through your little plan," Wanda continued.

"Why?" You asked, your voice croaking. "Why are you on my side?"

"Because I understand," Wanda merely repeated. "And because I like Steve. I think you're what Steve needs to stay happy."

You couldn't help the snort that came out of your mouth. "If what you're saying is true, then we both know what darkness he's capable of. You think he's that much better than my stepfather?"

"I think at the very least, he could make you come," Wanda said dryly, and you grimaced.

"I'm not saying Steve is good," Wanda redirected. "I think if you were to admit it to yourself, you don't want good either."

"Why not?" You sneered. "If you understand me and you're with Vision, don't I deserve a love that is good too?"

"I didn't say anything about what you deserve," Wanda cocked her brow. "I'm saying that people like us aren't naive in understanding what we need from love. Vision may be good but I have my own ways of keeping him. He's what I need. Could you imagine yourself with someone like him? Someone who goes on and on about the greater good and puts everyone else's needs before your own?"

You knew the answer to that immediately, and so did Wanda.

"No, you don't," Wanda said aloud for you. "You don't want someone who would sacrifice everything for everyone else. You want someone who would sacrifice the world for you."

"Steve would never," you shook your head. "He's Captain America. Everything about him is for the world."

"I wouldn't underestimate Steve," Wanda tilted her head. "He has a talent for getting everything he wants."

You don't say anything because you don't want to be swayed from your plans—swayed into another cage that is Steve.

Wanda could see your stubbornness and sighed. "Alright, then I'll make you a deal. I can make Steve stay away and get back together with Sharon if you leave him now and before you make him cross any lines. In return, I'll handle your problem instead."

You were stunned.

"You would..." you didn't want to say it out loud in public. But she would kill Henry for you if you just left Steve alone?

"Sure," Wanda smiled lightly. "I can make it all go away easily if you want me to." As if to emphasize her point, her eyes glowed red briefly before returning to normal.

You...you didn't know. Your plan was your plan. Despite what Wanda said, you felt like you had meticulously thought it through. Could you risk believing in Wanda and giving up Steve?

"I'll give you time to think about it," Wanda told you and put up two fingers. "Two weeks and that's all."

That seemed like such little time to determine your future, you thought wryly.

"That's all the time you have before you make Steve cross a line for you. You think I don't know about your little fiancé he has locked up in a cell outside the city? You don't have much time before Steve either decides to let him go or get rid of him." Wanda slid her napkin across the table, and you looked down to see her number scrawled on her.

"Text me when you decide what you want," Wanda gave you a tiny smirk as if she knew something. Without another word, she slid out of the booth and left.

You stayed at the table, staring at the napkin.

Was this an out?

Or was it a trap?

Were you confident you could still escape Steve after, or should you risk trusting Wanda?

You bit your lip.

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵

Steve's jaw was clenched tightly.

"You can't be," Steve sneered while Sharon held her chin up in a miffed manner.

"I am," she confirmed as she held up the pregnancy test stick with two lines. "Last month when we slept together, don't you remember? I think the condom broke."

Steve tried to recall the last time they slept together, but he can't remember if the condom broke. It might've been possible. He usually threw the condom out in the trashcan next to his nightstand while Sharon would go to the washroom after.

"We're going to the Compound tomorrow. I'll ask Bruce to run tests."

"I'm going away for a month starting tomorrow for work," Sharon gritted out.

"Fine," Steve snapped. "But this doesn't change anything, Sharon. I still want to break up. I'll pay child support and we can work out an agreement for custody."

"Seriously, Steve?" Sharon's eyes widened in disbelief. "We're having a fucking child together and you still want to leave me for some stupid fling?"

"She's NOT a fling," Steve growled, heat spreading through his body. "I'm in love with her, Sharon. I haven't felt anything for you in a long time. I'd still break up with you eventually even if she wasn't involved."

"Oh, please," Sharon rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "I know exactly how you are, Steve. If she didn't come into our lives, you would've stayed with me forever. You're too cowardly to ever be alone."

"Watch it," Steve glared at her as he packed his things. "Let's try to be civil if you really are pregnant."

"If?" Sharon scoffed. "You want me to be civil towards a man who has cheated on me and is leaving me after knocking me up? We'll see if you really have the guts to leave when I file for full custody."

"Sharon—" Steve started to raise his voice but then took a deep calming breath. "We're not going to talk about this now. The apartment is yours. I'll come by to collect the rest of my things while you're away."

Steve didn't allow much room for Sharon to say anything else as he zipped up his duffle bag and walked out the door. Strapping the bag to the back of his motorcycle, he put on his helmet and quickly drove off.

Shit, he thought. He wondered if Sharon was telling the truth—if she was really pregnant. Steve had always wanted a family at some point in his life. It had been a mere distant, vague dream while with Sharon. But ever since meeting you, the idea of a child would make him throb all over. He knew you had the IUD, so there would be time before starting a family. But the fact he could picture it so clearly was just another sign for him that you were the one.

Steve would be staying at the Compound for a while. He supposed he should look for a new apartment as soon as possible. His heart raced at the thought of asking you to move in with him. He wondered how you'd take the news regarding Sharon's pregnancy. Steve wondered how you were with children in general.

Before going to the Compound, Steve realized he should probably go see Blake. He stopped by a nearby diner to get food to go.

When he stepped into the facility, he could hear Blake.

"Please...please let me go..." Blake bemoaned before he saw Steve and jumped up. "Where have you been?! YOU LEFT ME HERE WITHOUT FOOD OR WATER FOR A WHOLE DAY."

"Settle down, Blake," Steve said calmly as he dropped the food through the sliding hole at the bottom of the door. "It's only been a day, but that was my bad."

"Please tell me you've looked into Henry and I can go," Blake grabbed the food, tearing at the container. He stuffed his face and drank the water aggressively.

"I've met the man," Steve conceded. "I'm still gathering intel. There was something I wanted to ask you."

"What?" Blake said with his mouth full.

"I know that you were allowed your own...indiscretions while seeing her. But what was supposed to happen after you got married? Did Henry say you had to stop?"

Blake seemed to think for a moment before shaking his head. "Henry never said anything of the sort, but we never got that far in marital discussions since it didn't seem like we were going to get married for at least another year and a half. All I know is that he said he would arrange it and buy us a house close by."

Steve nodded. "Just hang on a little longer, Blake," Steve smiled. "I promise it'll be over soon."

Blake pursed his lips, looking like he wanted to beg some more to be let go but knew there was no point. He merely sat there and finished his food before returning to his bed. "Could you at least bring me some books or something I can watch movies on? I need something to do or I'm going to go crazy."

Steve nodded. "I'll be back tomorrow morning."

With that, Steve left, his mind whirring around.

From the sounds of it, it seemed your stepfather had no interest in making Blake stop sleeping around even after getting married. And buying a house for them close by? Seemed strange.

Steve recalled you saying something about how your father wanted to do business with Tony. Perhaps he can ask Tony for a favor.

Pulling out his phone, he sent a text.

Steve: Hey Tones, you up?

Tony: When am I not? What can I do for you, Capsicle?

Steve: Heading to the Compound right now. Sharon and I split. Wondering if we could have a chat.

Tony: I'll bring out the good shit, but please do not expect a heart-to-heart from me.

Steve rolled his eyes.

Steve: I think I'll manage without that as well. It's not about the breakup anyway.

Tony: Perfect then! I'm in my workroom.

After that, Steve checked his messages and felt his heart warm.

You: I hope things went okay for you. Text me when you can 💕

He smiled.

Steve: Nothing I can't handle. Missing you, though. You free tomorrow? I was thinking we can spend some time together at the Compound in the evening. I can come grab you.

The text back was instant.

You: Of course! I'm supposed to have dinner with my stepfather at Le Bernardin. Come grab me after?

Steve: Sure, just shoot me a text. Get some rest, sweetheart.

You: Sweet dreams, handsome 🥰

Steve let out a small, content sigh before he started up his bike. He should probably talk to Bucky too and tell him to back off and that you were his and his alone.

Part VIII

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[sincerelythedarkside]

Who We Are || Part VI

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers x Dark!Reader

Summary: You know what you want out of life. You want to be loved—to be safe. You want to be taken care of and to take care of someone who will appreciate it. But you’ve been shackled, trapped in a never-ending nightmare. And your only saving grace will be enticing the dark side of America’s golden hero to want you—a game of who’s manipulating who.

SERIES WARNINGS: 18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI. Dubcon sex, noncon/rape, somnophilia, manipulative behaviour, possessive behaviour, dark themes. Do NOT read if these are triggering for you.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: Non-con touching, dubcon between Steve and Reader if you squint.

[Set after Civil War & the Accords were abolished]

Note: Whoops, it's been a while. I'm sorry! But long chapter to make it up? I will not lie, the rest of the chapters will straight up be explicit smut and unhinged steve.

PART I || PART II || PART III || PART IV || PART V

Count: ~6k (sorry, had to make up for the very delayed update ><)

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵

"I'm so proud of you, baby girl."

You tried to not grimace, making sure to keep your face neutral as Henry grinned at you.

You had told him that you were invited to Tony Stark's birthday party—how the Avengers had shown up at your work and you befriended them. Henry had been enthused as he'd been trying for years to get Tony to sit down and have a meeting with him for a potential partnership.

The day arrived, and you were slowly getting ready before Henry appeared in your room. You both knew that he couldn't be in here too long before your mother would start calling him since it was close to dinner time.

Henry pulled you close, his hand flying to your ass as he groped it tightly. Groaning, Henry pressed his lips against yours, forcing his tongue through to taste you.

You stood there, limp in his arms and eyes open, resisting the urge to bite down on his tongue.

"Shit, it's been way too long since I've had you," Henry moaned as he pulled away slightly, his cock hard and hot against your thigh. "Between work and your mum, I haven't been taking care of you at all, have I?"

The words how you don't want him to fucking take care of you get caught in your throat, and all you could manage is a nod to appease Henry.

"I'll make time for you soon," Henry promised as if you're a neglected willing lover. "Make sure you talk to Stark about me tonight. I've been trying to secure a meeting with him for ages."

"I will," you said quietly, and Henry was satisfied enough. He gave you one last slap on your ass before he took a step back.

"How are you getting there?" Henry asked. "Do you need a ride?"

You shook your head. "Tony arranged Steve to give me a ride," you lied.

"Captain America?" Henry raised his brow, and you nodded.

"He'll be here in an hour," you said, turning away to signal Henry you still needed to get ready. Henry thankfully let you be, grunting he'll see you downstairs before you go and that Captain America better at least introduce himself.

When you were alone once more, you took a seat at your vanity mirror. Your lips were plump from Henry's assault, and the sight of them made you feel ill.

Still, you carefully began to put your makeup on, ending with the perfect shade of lipstick for you. You took one last look at how well you seem put together, almost laughing at how you just wanted to shatter your reflection.

You swallowed, standing up and making your way to your closet. You hadn't bothered going shopping as you had plenty of dresses, some even never worn.

You quickly went to find your phone to send a text.

You: what colour is your suit?

Steve: Navy blue. Why?

You smiled as you went back into your closet. You wonder if Sharon had been thoughtful enough to do what you were about to do. Pulling out a formal navy blue maxi dress with tiny embedded gems littered throughout you hadn't worn before—a gift from Henry. You put it on and walked to your floor-length mirror.

You posed strategically, your leg hanging out of the slit of the dress and your hand on your waist as you took a picture to send.

You: [image]

You: what do you think?

Steve: You look absolutely stunning, sweetheart. Hope this is your choice for tonight. I love it.

You: I was hoping you'd say so 😊 See you soon?

Steve: I'm on my way. ETA 30 mins.

You throw your phone back onto your bed as you head back to your vanity mirror to do your hair.

You silently went through your plans for tonight. This was a perfect opportunity since Henry was so eager for you to network with Tony Stark. You had lied and told him that you'd most likely be drinking as to not alienate yourself and would spend the night in one of Tony's guest rooms. Henry allowed it.

Your first goal was to get closer to the other Avengers, so they wouldn't find you so suspicious or look into you too much. If you had the chance, flirt with other people in front of Steve.

But the most important part of tonight was two things.

Drive a wedge between Steve and Sharon.

Get physical with Steve again.

Weeks had passed since the last time the two of you kissed. You had done your time being bashful around him. So, tonight, your goal was to get Steve's hands all over you again.

You exhaled heavily.

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵

"Hi, I'm Steve Rogers. It's nice to finally meet you."

Steve extended his hand, letting Henry grasp it in a firm hold before they shook twice and let go.

"Oh my gosh," your mother gushed. "I can't believe Captain America is in my kitchen!"

Steve smiled at your mother's evident enthusiasm as he let her shake his hand vigorously.

His eyes flittered over to yours as you had your head tilted with a teasing smile. Steve felt like a teen again when he first saw you. He felt like one of those boys who had a colony of butterflies in his stomach, and he was taking out his crush to dance.

You were so beautiful that Steve could've stared at you all night.

But he couldn't, at least not right now.

Blake's words still rang clear in his head. This was his opportunity to try to get to know Henry, your stepfather. This was his opportunity to show Henry that Captain America was a much better choice than a nobody like Blake.

Yet, as they stood there chatting idly, Henry hadn't seemed impressed with how Captain America was your friend and escorting you to the party.

Henry barely seemed to like him at all.

Steve barely could contain his clenched jaw as you loop your arm around his, leaning over just enough to kiss your mother on her cheek before waving them goodbye for the night.

When you finally got into the cab with Steve, you gave him a sheepish smile.

"Sorry, my mum can be...enthused."

Steve shook his head, placing his hand over yours so that you wouldn't pull away and remained close to him.

"It's fine," Steve smiled lightly. "Your stepdad didn't seem to like me too much."

Steve watched the way you licked your lips before gnawing on the corner of your bottom lip momentarily.

"Henry..." you paused as if mulling over the right words. "Henry isn't really fond of the Avengers. Tony Stark is different since he's a businessman and a billionaire."

Steve pursed his lips. He shouldn't be so surprised. There were plenty of people who weren't fans of the Avengers. Of course, those people had no concept of what the Avengers did to keep them alive either.

"Is there a particular reason he doesn't like the Avengers?" Steve asked.

Steve smiled as you settled into his side, pressing up against him as you leaned your head on his broad shoulder.

"My stepdad is someone who likes to have a lot of control over every aspect of his life. There's an order to everything he does and he doesn't like it when people try to uproot that," you explain quietly. "The Avengers, Captain America specifically, fight for freedom, right? It doesn't affect Henry personally, but on a fundamental level, it goes against what he believes."

Steve had to resist shivering when your hand trailed down to his, flipping his hand over as you traced the lines of his palm.

"Captain America fights for what he believes is right, isn't that so? You fight for that for every person because that's our right—to be free to live the way we think is right as long as it's not infringing on anyone else's freedom," you trace a circle in Steve's hand, and he closes his hand to catch your fingers.

Steve needed you to stop because the sensations were travelling from his hand all the way to his cock.

"Yes," Steve said as he cleared his throat a little. "The price of freedom is high, but me and many others are always willing to pay it." The words were familiar to Steve as he felt like he's said them so many times.

You hummed as you lifted your head to gaze up at Steve. His hand tightened around yours as you squeezed back.

Steve wished for so many things at that moment. He wished that he could kiss you. He wished that he didn't have to keep Blake holed up because he was in the way. He wished that Henry wouldn't become an issue because it was clear he was.

Steve wished that you understood how much he was willing to do to have you.

Because you were someone who understood him as a person, weren't you?

"Nobody understands the true price of freedom," you said softly. "Freedom isn't to be asked for nor bargained. And I think we should be done asking for permission or forgiveness for it, don't you?"

Steve felt like he was burning. He felt like his groins were on fire as his body heated up.

Everything you were saying rang in his head, seeping in for him to mull over later. It was important. You were saying something important.

Steve swallowed. "Yeah."

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵

Steve watched you from afar.

His eyes couldn't stop following you as you flittered across the floor, mingling with all sorts of people. You were good at those kinds of things, it seemed.

But what Steve really liked was that even as you talked to other people, you would look at him once in a while and send a playful wink before returning to your conversation.

"She seems like a nice girl."

Steve looked over and saw Sharon in an emerald dress, nursing a drink in her hand.

The way Sharon said it seemed a little miffed, but Steve pretended he didn't notice. She had been like that all night since the two of you arrived in matching outfits and all.

Steve didn't really understand the problem. Sharon had known in advance what Steve would be wearing. If she wanted to match, she had plenty of time to do so.

"Yeah," Steve said, not really elaborating on what Sharon commented on.

"It's good she's getting along with the others," Sharon said offhandedly.

That got Steve to smile.

He liked that you got along with his friends.

You won over Tony easily with a genuine comment about Tony's place while also matching his quick wits.

Steve had to admit he felt a little jealous of how fast you got along with Bucky and Sam, giggling when they both flirted with you. But when you winked at him, he didn't think anything of it.

Natasha had been welcoming, and you seemed thankful for it, seeming a little shy and starstruck at the sight of her. Natasha had commented to him later how cute she thought you were.

The only person you seemed nervous around was Wanda, not that anyone would know but Steve. It was subtle, but the way you blinked a little more when you were nervous gave you away.

It was curious, and Steve hoped to catch Wanda alone later to see if she caught what you were thinking.

"Maybe she can spend more time with the others. She said she's single, right? I think Barnes or Wilson would be interested in her," Sharon said, and it caught Steve off-guard.

He turned his head and looked at his girlfriend. "What do you mean?"

Sharon gave him a look and smiled. "She and Barnes had great chemistry when they were talking and Wilson hasn't stopped looking at her all night."

Steve's eyes immediately when to find Sam's and found what Sharon was saying was true. He was looking at you while you talked to Bucky.

Something dropped in Steve's stomach, watching the way Bucky leaned close to you and whispered something in your ear that made you giggle and shove him a little.

His jaw clenched.

What were you doing? Weren't you the one who made it obvious that you couldn't be with him because of Blake? And now you were standing there, letting Bucky flirt with you and giving him all your sweet smiles?

Steve had to be conscious of how hard he was holding his whiskey before he shattered the glass.

"Do you wanna leave early?" Sharon asked, her tone dropping into a seductive low.

"No, I can't. I'm her ride back," Steve muttered.

"Just let Barnes or Wilson take her home," Sharon suggested, but that only seemed to set Steve off even more.

Steve just knows that Wilson would flirt with you the whole ride home, maybe even try to convince you that you should head back to his place tonight.

Bucky would flirt, but he might be too stiff to actually do anything. He'd been like that since coming back. Light-hearted but too fearful to actually do anything serious.

But with the way you smiled at Bucky and joked around with him, it might give Bucky the courage to go for more.

"No, she's my friend and my responsibilty. Besides, it's Tony's birthday. You know we'll be the last to leave." Steve's tone firmly suggested that was the end of that, and it made Sharon huff.

Steve knew that Sharon wouldn't accuse him of anything more than that being a good friend. It was just how he was.

"I'm going to go catch up with others. You should mingle more too," Steve said as he downed the rest of his whiskey before leaving Sharon behind.

What Steve wanted to do was go over to where you were right away and disrupt whatever was happening between you and his friend. But he couldn't. Not without looking suspicious to Sharon.

So, as he walked, Steve made his way to Wanda, who was chatting with Vision.

When he approached, Wanda noticed him from the side of her eye and leaned in to ask Vision to get her a drink. The synthezoid seemed to catch on before he kissed his girlfriend on the cheek and drifted off.

"Hey, Wanda," Steve greeted with a smile as he leaned in to kiss her cheek himself.

"Steve," Wanda greeted back, tilted her face to let him catch her cheek more easily. "Are you having fun?"

His deep chuckle caused Wanda to smile. "Tony's parties are always somethin'. He's showing off his suit again."

"Showing off his big toys are the few joys he has in his life, we should be happy he's isn’t moping. Nothing good ever comes from Stark moping," Wanda smirked.

"That's very true," Steve said, his word lingering. He desperately wanted to bring you up and wasn't sure how.

Wanda seemed to pick up on it even if she pretended she didn't.

"So, your new friend seems sweet," Wanda hollowly commented.

"Yeah?" Steve tilted his head.

Wanda nodded.

"Did you..." Steve paused, unsure how to ask, but Wanda wouldn't answer his questions even when his words stretched this time unless he actually asked.

"She seemed nervous," Steve finally said. "Stressed lately. I was wondering if you picked up anything from her mind."

Wanda regarded Steve for a long moment, and it was unnerving. He was about to tell Wanda to forget it when she seemed to acquiesce to him.

"The truth is I can't hear anything from her," Wanda confessed.

"What?" Steve furrowed his brow together with concern. "Like her mind is blocked?"

Wanda nodded.

It made Steve concerned, but Wanda merely shrugged it off.

"There are some people I just can't seem to get a reading from at all. It's rare, but it does happen," Wanda admitted. "Some people are natural shields. And well, some people..."

Wanda tilted her head while Steve gave her an expectant look.

"Some people who experience enough trauma in their life—ongoing or even unprocessed—can create enough of mental shield as a coping mechanisim and as a result, keep me out." Wanda crossed her arms as she said it, looking mildly uncomfortable.

Steve blinked, surprise overcoming him at the information. Worry gnawing at him at the implication.

"What do you think hers is...?" Steve finally asked while Wanda quirked her brow at him.

"You tell me, Steve," Wanda said. "You're the one who's her friend."

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵

The night dragged on as you spent a lot of time between each Avenger.

Except for Wanda.

Wanda made you nervous. You had heard and read in the news what she was capable of. The details of the Accords had been leaked and in them contained information about each Avenger.

There were brief notes about Wanda's ability, but one stated that she could see your mind, which made you wary.

You did your best to not think of anything revealing when you were with Wanda. She didn't seem to act out of the ordinary, give you any strange looks, or seek you out alone. So, you were going to assume everything was fine. Still, it was best to not risk anything.

As long as you didn't give the Avengers a reason to think you were strange, everything would be fine.

"I'm surprised Stevie has left his little comfort zone and befriended someone outside our line of work."

The comment brought you back to reality, and you refocused your eyes to Bucky again.

"Is it that strange?" You asked with a smile.

Bucky chuckled a little. "Stevie's a little...resistance to change. I know it sounds odd with him being Captain America and all, but in his private life, he likes things to stay the same because it's comforting."

You thought part of that was true.

But in your opinion, Steve didn't like things to stay the same. No, what he liked were things that reminded him of things he thought were comforting.

Kindness.

Simplicity.

Someone who looked to him.

Someone he could love with everything in his control.

Someone that would accept him no matter what—whether he was skinny, strong, good, or...

Dark.

It wasn't that Steve was opposed to strong women; he liked those qualities in a woman. But Steve was also someone who needs to feel like he is reliable, that someone is relying on him.

"You should give Steve more credit," you said with a twinkle in your eye, catching from the corner of the said man walking your way, jaw clenched. "Steve's very adaptable if you give him time and guidance."

"Hope this guy isn't harassing you with his pick-up lines," Steve interjected.

You both turn over to see Steve holding three glasses of drinks. Whiskey for him and Bucky while he gave you a cocktail.

"Shut up, punk," Bucky rolled his eyes with a smile. "I'll have you know she'd charmed by my presence."

You giggled with a shake of your head before giving Steve a pleased hum.

"My favourite," you smiled at him, and he beamed back.

Of course, you'd been paying attention to Steve all night. He'd been watching you as subtly as he could.

You'd also been watching Sharon, who seemed torn between being suspicious of you or trying to like you.

The three of you chatted and drank together. You were careful of how much you were intaking while also letting a good buzz ride you through.

It wasn't long before Sharon decided to join the group and clung all over Steve.

You weren't sure if it was some of the alcohol you had, but you found it much more annoying than you should've. It was expected, after all. You had been staying rather close but not inappropriately with Steve.

You felt your nerve struck when Sharon decided to pull Steve onto the dance floor. He gave Sharon a half-smile while peering at you from the corner of his eye.

Pretending not to notice, you grabbed Bucky's metal hand, surprising him.

"Come on, old man," you said loudly and smirked at him. "Show me some of your moves and that you won't throw out your hip."

That caused Bucky to roll his eyes again with a slight smile, his hand curling around yours as he let himself be dragged onto the dance floor with you. "Ha ha," Bucky said dryly. "Very funny."

You and Steve danced with your respective partners but only a couple of feet away.

The music was modern with the bass pumping heavy, and Sharon managed to get a more respectable dance with Steve. Her arms were around his neck, pressing close to him while he had his hands on her hip.

They looked like an awkward couple dancing at prom.

Sharon's back was turned to you, meaning Steve faced you.

Your back should've been turned to Steve as well if you went for a more tame dance. But you didn't.

You turned around in Bucky's arms so that your back was pressed against his front, grabbing his hands and placing them on your hip. You pressed back flush against Bucky.

"Let's see if you adapt to the modern world better," you said to Bucky before you began to grind your hips against him to the rhythm of the music.

As if to spite you and prove the modern world was nothing, Bucky quickly ground his hips in the same circular motion as you.

You moved in his arms easily, turning around to wrap your arms around his neck as you dragged your leg up Bucky's through the slit of your dress.

The dancing went on, and it was fun. When you finally switched positions, and you finally looked Steve in the face, it was all worth it.

Steve stood there, holding Sharon's waist tightly. But he wasn't looking at the blond who had her face against his shoulder.

No.

Steve was looking at you, and he looked fucking pissed. His eyes narrowed and clenched jaw as he stared at the way you held Bucky.

His eyes said it all.

What the fuck did you think you were doing?

You only cocked your brow at him in response.

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵

The night was tense after dancing, but no one seemed to notice but you.

Steve was somewhat in a foul mood after but hid it well by refraining from talking too much.

You thought the bad mood Steve was in would cause him to distance himself, but it was the exact opposite. It was like he wouldn't let you out of his sight. Wherever you went, Steve brought the entire group with you.

At some point, the party had gotten so late, and people were dispersing or crashing. Sharon had tried to urge Steve to leave at that point because she was tired, but he refused, using the excuse his friends were still here.

Giving up, Sharon merely gave him a kiss and made him promise that he wouldn't stay out too late and return home.

All you could think about was how that wouldn't be happening.

You feigned a yawn half an hour after Sharon left and while Bucky was in an animated conversation with Natasha.

"Oh, doll, are you tired? You need me to take you home?" Bucky offered when he noticed.

"No, I got it," Steve said as he stood. "It's time for me to leave anyway. Mind if I borrow a car, Stark?"

Tony waved his hand as he was talking to Bruce. "You know where the keys are." Tony paused and then looked at you. "It was nice meeting you. Glad Capsicle is capable of making normal friends. Heard you've been teaching him about social media apps. You're doing the Lord's work, you know."

That got everyone snickering while Steve rolled his eyes.

Everyone bid you various goodnights before you walked off with Steve.

It was silent between the two of you as neither of you spoke to each other after dancing.

You could tell Steve was still annoyed with the way he gripped the steering wheel tightly.

You began to dig through your purse.

"Shit," you muttered, drawing Steve's attention. "I didn't bring my key," you sighed.

"You're locked out?" Steve asked—his first words to you since the dance.

You nodded as you checked the watch on your wrist.

"It's a little late. I don't wanna ring the doorbell and wake up my parents. My mom has sleeping problems and if she's asleep, she won't be able to get back to it if she's woken up," you frowned before turning to him. "There's a hotel after the next exit. Do you mind dropping me off?"

"You sure you don't wanna stay at my place or the Compound? There's extra room there." Steve asked, and you scrunched your nose.

"No, it's fine. It's a little strange to be at The Compound without you and...well, Sharon's at your place, isn't she?" You muttered, not elaborating more on it.

Steve merely nodded as he took the next exit.

The hotel you talked about was much fancier than Steve was expecting. He wasn't surprised, given how close it was to Stark's home.

Steve insisted on coming with you to ensure you checked in alright before leaving.

Steve dropped you at the front while he said he'd go find parking.

While he was doing that, you went to the counter and checked in for the reservation you put in for two people.

"You check-in okay?" Steve asked as he jogged in with a cap he managed to find in Stark's car. It was a poor disguise, but given how late it was, the lobby was practically empty, and it was enough.

You nodded as you held up the room key. "Let's go."

The ride up the elevator was silent, too, with you running your hand through your hair.

"You're pretty high up," Steve commented. "Checked out a pretty nice room for just the night."

You shrugged. "Henry pays my credit card bills and he doesn't really care what I spend it on, so might as well."

Steve's brows furrowed at the comment, but before he could say anything else about it, the elevator stopped, and you stepped out the moment the door was opened.

You reached your room quickly as you slid your room key into the door, opening it as stepping in while Steve followed after.

"Nice room," he idly commented, and you dropped your phone on the couch before you walked off the bathroom.

Despite Steve's words that he'd leave once you entered your room okay, he loosened his tie and took a seat.

He was curious what you'd do since you hadn't brought any change of clothes and the souvenir shop with the tacky shirts was closed. Still, he heard the shower turn on and licked his lips.

He took off his suit jacket, folded it neatly, and set it aside along with his tie and belt.

He patiently waited, unbutton a few of his dress shirt buttons and felt himself relax.

The shower turned off after 20 minutes, and you didn't come out for another 10.

When you did, you came out in a bathrobe and a towel around your neck as you half-hazard dried your hair.

"Did you want to shower before you go?" You asked with a tilt of your head.

Steve shook his head. "I'll shower tomorrow morning. Mind if I stay a bit? I feel like we haven't talked all night."

You nodded as you took a seat next to him at one of the ends. You leaned your back against the plush side and pulled your feet up, letting them rest near Steve's thigh.

Steve smiled as you let out a relaxed sigh before he grabbed your feet and pulled them into his lap, and gave you a feet massage.

You closed your eyes and let out a low moan that made Steve tingle.

"Oh, that's feel really good," you sighed as your eyes fluttered open.

"You seemed tired in your heels by the end," Steve commented, and you gave him a smile that he noticed.

"Thanks for inviting me tonight," you told Steve. "I had a really good time."

"Did you?" Steve asked, and you nodded as if confused by his words.

"Yeah, your friends are really nice," you said before moaningly lightly when Steve massaged over a particularly sore spot.

"Yeah," Steve muttered as he remembered to not massage you too hard. "You seemed to get along real well with Bucky."

The comment was bitter, and both of you could hear the tone of it in Steve's voice.

You don't say anything about it other than a hum.

Your voice vibrates next to Steve, but you make no move to check who it is.

The screen lights up, and Steve could see it was Bucky texting you.

Bucky: It was real nice meeting you, doll. Stevie should stop hoarding you to himself and let the rest of us get to know you better. Want to go for lunch later this week?

A part of Steve knows that Bucky was just being friendly. He knows that if he confessed to his friend that he liked you, Bucky would berate him, but he would back off.

But the message alone sets Steve off, and he looked over at you while you had your head lead back over the edge with your eyes closed.

"Do you like Bucky?" Steve asked suddenly.

You opened your eyes as you sat up with a frown.

"I hardly know Bucky," you answer vaguely. "Why would you ask that?"

Steve picked up your phone and showed the text to your face. "You spent all night talking to Bucky, flirting with him, dancing with him, and now he's asking you to lunch. What else am I supposed to ask?"

You read the text and rolled your eyes, snatching your phone from Steve as you turned it off and got up. Steve followed right after you.

"Don't just walk away—" Steve said, grabbing your arm before you yanked it away and turned around furiously.

"That's none of your business, Steve!" You said hotly.

Steve glared at you like the tips of his ear flush angrily. "You were the one who said it wouldn't work between us and now you're going to go after Bucky? I can promise you, sweetheart, he's not that much different from me."

"Who I'm with doesn't matter, Steve," you shook your head as you turned to walk away again, but Steve's quicker as he ran in front of you.

You were always vague, and it drove Steve insane. You were alluding to how it didn't matter because of Blake.

Why won't you just say it?

Steve could get rid of a guy like Blake with his hands tied around his back.

"Because Bucky is the guy who can fix your problems?" Steve curled his lip as he brought up your words.

"No, he can't," you ground your teeth as you stepped to the side to try to walk past Steve, but he mirrored you.

You let out a disgruntled sigh.

"You're just hurting my feelings, sweetheart. Why him?" Steve demanded.

"At the very least, he's not taken!" You finally hissed. "He doesn't have a girlfriend who's waiting for him at home. He doesn't have a girlfriend who came with him tonight and clung all over him right in front of my face!"

Steve's eyes were wide as he watched you have your outburst.

"You think this is easy for me, Steve?" You frowned. "That my feelings aren't hurt because I like you and I can't be with you?"

You rubbed your face slowly in a frustrated manner. "I get jealous too, Steve. I also want to be the one you go to all the parties with, the one who gets to cling to you, dance with you, kiss you goodnight and ask you not to stay too late and return home to me if I leave first."

"Then why can't we be together?" Steve pleaded as he stepped closer to you. "I've never felt the way about anyone the way I feel you. I'm with Sharon because you won't let me be with you, sweetheart."

The words make you turn your face away.

You swallow hard, eyes closed for a moment before they fluttered open.

"I'm engaged," you whisper quietly, and Steve felt his heart beating wildly in his chest because, yes, yes!

This was what he wanted. He wanted you to open up to him. He wanted to prove to you that he could fix all your problems if you just opened up.

"Unlike you, I can't break my engagement that easily," you looked back at him with a sad smile. "So, when I tell you it doesn't matter who I'm with, it's because it really doesn't matter."

You stepped closer to him and hesitantly pressed your palm against his cheek. He was so warm.

"But it matters when it's you because I like you, Steve. You're the only person that means something to me and I don't think I could handle having you only to lose you in the end. If there's one thing I know about myself, it's that I don't share well. So, I can't only have half of you either. And I'm not going to make you a cheater. Do you understand?" You asked softly.

Yes and no, Steve thought as he pressed his face further into your hand. How could you confess such things and expect Steve to be able to walk away?

Steve suddenly lifted his large hands and placed them on your waist, pulling you flush against him.

"Yes," he said. "I understand. But I don't care about any reasons you've come up with. You're not making me become anything. All I care about is that we have feelings for each other. The rest is for me to take care of. Do you understand?"

You shivered against his firm body, the way the hard lines of him pressed into your softness.

"Steve—" you whined, but Steve was beyond reason now.

He surged forward and slotted his lips against yours, kissing you soundly.

"I don't want to hear it," Steve muttered when he pulled just an inch away. "I don't want to hear anything from you unless it's that you want me and if it's not that, then I'm not interested."

"Steve—" you tried to say again, but he pressed his lips against your against, running his tongue against your bottom lip before he sucked it into his mouth and bit down punishingly.

You whined but pressed yourself closer to him.

Steve let his hand drop lower on you before he grabbed the back of your thighs and hoisted you up, forcing your legs to part along with half of your robe as you wrapped your legs around his waist to keep from falling.

Steve could tell you were bare underneath—completely bare and groaned as he walked you over to the bed and placed you down gently, crawling up your body.

"I'm not stoppin'," Steve told you as he kissed you hard. "You said it. You said you like me—want me. Don't tell me you think I can hold back after hearing that, sweetheart."

You trembled beneath him as he began to undo the knot of your robe. When it was undone, Steve used his deft fingers to part them just slightly before his hand slid underneath and cupped your breast.

His hand was so warm that it caused you to keen as he squeezed. Pressing kisses against your collarbone and neck, you could feel his erection straining in his pants.

"Let me just take care of you," Steve said between kisses. "I'll take such good care of you, sweetheart. Just be mine, I need you to be mine."

Men were so simple, you thought as you lifted your hands.

Steve tensed as if he were ready for you to try to push him away. But you slid your palms up his chest and shoulders before you wrapped your hands around his neck.

Steve stared down intently at you while you bit down on your swollen lip from his kisses. You lifted your head, catching him in another heated kiss as you adjusted your legs to let him fall in between more easily.

Henry taught you sex was nothing more than a weapon he used against you for his own satisfaction.

And now you were going to use it against Steve, using pleasure to make him fall before you.

"Make me yours, Steve."

PART VII

#dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers imagine #dark!reader #dark!fic #dark steve rogers #dark steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfiction #s.myfics #series.whoweare

[sincerelythedarkside]

Who We Are || Part I

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers x Dark!Reader 

Summary: You know what you want out of life. You want to be loved—to be safe. You want to be taken care of and to take care of someone who will appreciate it. But you've been shackled, trapped in a never-ending nightmare. And your only saving grace will be enticing the dark side of America's golden hero to want you—a game of who's manipulating who. 

SERIES WARNINGS: 18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI. Dubcon sex, noncon/rape, somnophilia, manipulative behaviour, possessive behaviour, dark themes. Do NOT read if this is triggering for you.

[Set after Civil War & the Accords were abolished]

Note: First dark series :)

Count: ~3.5K

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There was harsh breathing and grunts.

A low moan right next to your ear. "Fuck, you're so wet. You like this, don't you? Knew you did. Knew you wanted me with that tight shirt you were wearing today." 

You squeeze your eyes shut tightly as if that would somehow block out the words. 

A hand comes to grip your hair, nearly ripping it right out of your head. "Don't fucking close your eyes, you know I hate that. You look at me—LOOK AT ME!"

Your eyes snap open forcibly. It doesn't feel good, despite how your body is reacting. It never feels good. The hands gripping your waist is too harsh, too punishing when you haven't done anything wrong. 

"I'm cumming," another grunt in your ear. "Fuckin' cumming deep in you."

You stare at the ceiling when you feel the thrusts getting jagged and messy before something hot spills inside you. You haven't come once, but it's rare you ever get to. 

You're pulled into a messy kiss.

"You were a good girl," he husks against your lips. "You always are."

But being good never gets you anything. You sit up when he gets off of you, pulling the blanket to yourself as he re-dresses himself. 

"Do you have work today?"

You nod.

"Your mum wants to make burgers tomorrow. Go grocery shopping tomorrow, will you?" He grunts. "Also get me a pack of smokes."

"Okay," you nod as you get up yourself to head to the shower and clean yourself up for the day. You hate it when he comes before work. You're always tired.

A hand grabs your wrist.

"Make sure you're quiet as you leave," he warns you before giving you a smarmy smile. "You don't want your mum to wake up and find your step-dad here, do you?"

You try not to clench your jaw because he always notices, and it never leads to anywhere good if he does. 

"Yes, Henry."

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵

"You okay?"

You finish adjusting your dress before turning away from the mirror to see your coworker, Jeff, standing at the door.

"Yeah," you give him a small smile. "Just a little tired is all."

"You'll be okay to sing for a couple of hours? If you want, I can ask the boss to put you on table duty and have Gwen sub in?" Jeff frowns at you.

You shake your head. "No, it's fine. Besides, you're my pianist tonight and we're such a great duo, aren't we?"

Jeff laughs but agrees wholeheartedly. 

"Alright, if you're sure," Jeff tells you before standing straighter to leave. "We're on in five minutes."

"I'll be right there," you tell him as he leaves. Then, you turn back to the mirror and stare at yourself.

You're miserable; you can see it in your own eyes. You're a walking tragedy that no one notices. You push the thoughts away because it's time to work, and if there's one small joy in your life, it's getting to escape for a couple of hours and sing.

You fix your hair one last time, making sure your lipstick isn't smudged before you begin to make your way out, stepping onto the small stage. Jeff is already sitting at the grand piano, smiling at you. The lights are dimmed, with one focused on you. It's not too bright, thankfully, but it illuminates you nicely, catching light on your shimmery necklace. 

"Good evening, everyone," you smile softly. You see a bunch of regulars who are eagerly sitting and watching your show. "Welcome to Wisteria's Luck. Hopefully, you're sitting and enjoying yourself here out of your own will and not because you've gambled away everything tonight."

Your little joke gets the audience laughing. 

"Either way, grab yourself a drink and some delicious food. This is my lovely pianist, Jeff," you gesture behind you before you introduce your own name. "We're going to keep you company for just a little while and if you think we're good company, don't be afraid to share a little bit of your winnings with us today." That got you another round of laughter as well. 

Jeff starts playing the piano, the sound soft and comforting as you open your mouth and sing. Your voice is clear and alluring as you grasp the mic stand delicately with your fingers. 

Singing has always been a past-time for you. You had thought that when you finished university, you would finally leave New York and travel abroad, away from your mother and Henry. 

But when you finished, all your opportunities abroad disappeared, and you knew it was because of Henry. That man had entered you and your mum's life 5 years ago, just when you started university. It hadn't been so bad; Henry was charming and generous. He came from old money and owned a lot of corporations. In a way, he reminded you of Tony Stark. Henry had a wealth of connections and was kind enough to help pay for your schooling. You wouldn't have been able to afford it otherwise unless you wanted to be buried in debt for the next three generations. 

On top of that, you got to save money by living at home and Henry giving you a driver to take you to and from campus every day. Everything was perfect after he married your mother. She was so smitten and head over heels for Henry. You haven't seen her as happy as she is now. 

Everything was fine.

Until it wasn't.

It had started off small. A few inappropriate touches here and there— grazes that happened when he passed by you. You didn't think much of it then. It wasn't until one night on the fourth of July when you had gone to bed early that Henry came into your room in the middle of the night, wasted. 

Everything had been rough and quick. You had been scared out of your mind, but you thought it was a one-time thing. Maybe Henry was too wasted and thought your room was his bedroom, and you were your mum. 

But it was clear that wasn't the case, that it was just the alcohol and his limit being reached that he made his move. And then, you were his, and he didn't treat his things well. You wondered if this was how he treated your mum too.

At first, you wanted to expose him, but he had quickly shut that done, saying he'd leave your mum and all the nice things you and your mum had would disappear. The cars, the house, the tuition, everything. It would all go away, and you and your mum would be left destitute with debt. 

And your mum's happiness would disappear right along with it, and you couldn't do that to her. Besides, Henry had connections with the police and lawyers. Everything you could do would never turn out well.

So, Henry had successfully shackled you to him, and you felt the resignation when you finished university with nowhere to go. You're pretty sure something broke inside you when you felt resigned. You supposed you should count your blessings. After all, Henry did allow you this night job since you had nowhere else to go and didn't want to arouse your mum's suspicions if he kept you locked up at home.

You're taken out of your thoughts when you realize nearly half an hour has passed of you singing. Going on autopilot was easier these days. The crowd looks enamoured by you and your voice, the atmosphere relaxed with people drinking and idly eating. 

You turn to see Jeff, and he smiles at you, eyes asking if you need a break, but you shake your head. Then, after the song finishes, you stop to drink some water.

And then you saw something you didn't think you'd ever see entering the casino.

The Avengers. 

They were dressed casually, seemingly here for a night out. The group of heroes were a hot topic around New York. People usually either loved or hated them. If they hated them, it was always people who moaned and complained about property damage in New York. 

Personally, you were neutral, even after learning what you could about the Accords. You couldn't care less about property damage, even if it was your things. Or about country lines being crossed because none of it affected you and you were still alive. On the other hand, it's not like the Avengers have personally saved you either—not that it was their job.

Still, they were the most attractive group to walk into the casino. They stood out like a sore thumb. Your eyes wander from person to person, your thoughts idle. You stare a little longer at The Winter Soldier and Captain America, who you thought looked the best, but also they looked uncomfortable. 

You lock eyes with Captain America for a brief moment, and he tries to give you a polite small smile and nod, which you return professionally before you resume back to singing. 

"How's everyone doing so far?" You ask after putting your water down. "Hopefully this is preferable to losing money."

The crowd cheers and laughs while you smile with a tilt of your head. 

"I think we should change up the genre a little tonight. How about some real classic throwbacks?" You run your fingers through your hair, dragging your fingers down. 

You notice from the corner of your eye that the Avengers split up. Some decide to go to the card tables, some to the buffet, and Steve takes a seat at the bar with Bucky at the back where they can still see the stage.

You aren't going to be singing any songs from the 1930s-1940s, it was hardly your style, and you don't even know for sure if you have anything in your repertoire from that age. It wasn't like you were performing for the two soldiers lost in time anyway, but you thought it'd be nice for them to hear something closer to what they'd be familiar with. 

You sing classics like Can't Help Falling in Love, Put Your Head on My Shoulder, Wouldn't It Be Nice, and other songs from the 60s because the 60s was definitely a year of hit songs. 

Everyone seems to enjoy the change, most of your crowd being older gentlemen. You glance around the room and see that Captain America is still sitting there, but The Winter Soldier had left after a couple songs. 

You're surprised that Captain America stayed for the rest of the show, but he did look out of place. Perhaps he hadn't wanted to come tonight, and the bar was the least attention-drawing place he could be at. He didn't seem much like a gambler. 

Your show soon comes to an end, and the crowd claps for you. Giving your best shy smile, you tell the crowd to have a wonderful lucky night, and any tips would be welcome. Then, as usual, you make your way around the tables, chatting with people who often hand their tip to you. 

You stop by the back of the bar when you notice a regular sitting a couple of feet away from Captain America.

"Joey," you smile at him. "I didn't see you two nights ago."

Joey is nearly in his 50s but has aged quite gracefully with his salt and pepper hair. "Ah, my niece was in town, so I thought I should spend some time with her."

"Lucky girl," you tease, and Joey laughs before he slips you a Benjamin.

"You were wonderful tonight as always. I'll be at the tables later, but you should come and be my lucky girl," Joey grins.

You laugh and shake your head. He always offers, and you always turn him down. "I'm terribly unlucky as you know. Unless you want to claim bankruptcy tomorrow, it's best I stick to singing. I'll see you soon, yeah?"

Joey nods graciously before bidding you off. You walk further down the bar until you reach Captain America. You give him the same polite smile that he warily returns back. 

"I hope you're having a good evening," is all you say to him before you begin to walk off.

He grabs your wrist, and you turn back in surprise, pulling your hand back. He lets go immediately.

"Oh, sorry," he apologizes immediately before he fumbles for his wallet and pulls out a hundred dollar bill for you. "You—you were great. I really liked the songs you sang."

You smile a little wider as you accept the tip. "Thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed the show."

"I'm, um, Steve Rogers."

"I know," you tilt your head with a half-quirk of your lips, and Steve nearly blanches. 

"Oh, sorry," you apologize. "It's just hard to, well, not know who you are. I didn't mean anything by it. I'm sure most people don't like to be gawked at. I was just greeting you like I usually do to everyone at the end of my show. I should keep going, though. Thanks again for watching the show and the tip," you hold out his hundred he gave you with a little wiggle. "Have a good rest of your night," you tell him and walk off without looking back. 

You're mentally keeping a tally of the tips you're receiving tonight. You're almost done before you'll go to the back and split the tips with Jeff. There wasn't anything you could really do with the money. Henry always made sure he paid for everything he thought you needed, and it was clear that any attempts on your end to leave with the money you collected would result in an unhappy ending for everyone. 

But it gave you something to do at least.

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵

Steve stared at your retreating form. 

Something was stirring in him, specifically his cock. You were beautiful to look at, but that wasn't something Steve was unused to. He saw beautiful women all the time. Hell, he saw Natasha every day. 

But it was the way you were so sweet and serious with him. Steve had gotten used to the attention of being Captain America, had become used to gawking—as you put it. But he had blanched because there was a fleeting thought you knew him and the things about him on the news lately weren't good.

Steve didn't want you to think he was terrible. 

And then you were explaining like you didn't want to make him uncomfortable. 

The stirring in him persisted, nipping him on the inside. Steve took a deep breath to push it back down.

No, Steve told himself. He was good now. 

Steve had good things like Sharon in his life, and Sharon was similar to Peggy. Headstrong, no-nonsense, and funny. 

Things were good. He was proper.

Steve continued to stare at you from a distance, watching as you spoke with a younger man. You tilted your head back as you laughed behind your hand, shyly tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

Swallowing hard, Steve bit his tongue and gripped his drink a little tighter. 

He was good, but it didn't hurt to make friends, right? Everyone was always teasing him that he needed to make more friends.

Steve watched as you finished for the night, going into the back with the pianist. 

You could be a friend. Steve could control himself and just look.

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵

You noticed Steve. 

It was impossible to not notice someone like him. 

America's golden hero started showing up to your shows. Not every day, but more often since that first night. 

"Hi, Steve," you smiled at him, and he smiled at you back.

"That was a wonderful show," Steve says the way he does every time he shows up before he tips you a hundred dollar bill. 

"You're sweet," you tell him before shaking your head. "I've been starting to get a sore throat so I could tell I sounded a little scratchy tonight."

"Scratchy voices will be all the new rage, you'll see," Steve insists, and you chuckle lightly as you lick your bottom lip, catching how Steve's eyes move towards the movement. 

You take the money, staring at it a little longer before you try to give it back. "Steve, you can't tip me this much every time you come. It's insane."

But Steve shakes his head, pushing it back towards you. "Why can't I? I know your regulars do."

You shift from heel to heel, biting your lip as you do. "Yeah, but all my other regulars haven't saved New York from being decimated multiple times."

"I thought me being an Avenger wouldn't warrant special treatment," Steve frowned. 

"I'm not saying don't tip me," you give a teasing smile, and Steve blinks. "But also, all my other regulars stay here and gamble too and usually make back what they've tipped me. You just sit here at the bar."

Steve hummed in the back of his throat. "Well, I'm not much of a gambler and I do prefer to sit at the bar. How about you make me a drink if I tip you a Benjamin? We'll call it even."

You tilt your head with an unsure quirk of your eyebrow. You seem to mull it over, gnawing in your lip as you do so.

"Okay," you agree. "But I must warn you, I'm not a bartender and the drinks could be questionable at best," you waggle your finger at him, causing Steve to laugh.

"Just makes it real special," Steve shakes his head.

You walk around the bar to enter before you stand on the other side of him.

"Any preference?" You ask. 

"Not a fan of anything too sweet," Steve tells you.

"I suppose a sweet man doesn't need any more sweets," you smile lightly, not catching the way Steve's pupils blow wide and the way he grips the counter. 

You've seen Steve drink whiskey on the rocks, but that doesn't feel like something you should make since he drinks it all the time, and there's nothing special about it. 

You hum as you look around to see what you could make. 

Steve watches you pull out a cocktail shaker, a tangerine and a lemon. He watches you slice them before squeezing the juice out of them. His mouth feels dry as he watches the juice drip from your fingers. You fill the cocktail shaker with bourbon and triple sec, and then with ice before closing it. You shake it for about thirty seconds, giving him a smile as you do. 

Steve can't stop staring at you while you pull out a martini glass, grabbing a tangerine slice as you use to coat the rim before dropping it in the glass. Your hands are so delicate, Steve thinks. They look soft. 

Your fingers press down at the bottom of the stem as you push it towards him.

"Cheers," Steve says as he takes a sip. He likes the way you try to look unbothered, but he could tell you were a little nervous. 

Steve hums because it's the perfect amount of bitterness and sweetness. "This is delicious. So, you are quite the bartender."

You laugh, cheeks slightly heated with relief that makes Steve have to adjust how he's sitting.

"It's one of the three drinks I know how to make. You'll soon have to start drinking questionable things when I run out of things I know how to make," you tell Steve.

"I can't wait," he reassures you.

You stare at him a little longer, observing his bright blue eyes that seem unwavering.

"I—should go," you tell him finally, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "I should help out the other girls."

Steve seemed a little disappointed but smiled nonetheless.

"Have a wonderfully lucky night," you tell him like you tell the crowd, but you give him a shy smile that rarely makes an appearance.

You take note of the way Steve's eyes trail you as you walk away, the way his hand twitches but forces itself to stay in place. And you definitely take note of the way he sits to hide his boner. 

The cogwheels in your mind start to turn. You're no stranger to the looks Steve gives you—the way something dark just lurks underneath those bright blue eyes. 

Men stare at you like that all the time. But Steve Rogers is different from those men. 

Henry can scare away other rich men, CEOs, cops, and the occasional politician. 

But an Avenger is different. A man who's biologically enhanced and doesn't bend to the law or answer to anyone else but himself. 

Steve Rogers might be your key to unlocking your shackles. 

You just have to break out the darkness that lurks underneath—to make Captain America cross all lines to covet you.

You turn your head back to see Steve still watching you.

Yes, you need Steve Rogers. As long as Steve Rogers wanted you, you could get what you want. 

You send Steve a demure smile.

PART II

#dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #dark steve rogers imagine #dark steve rogers fanfiction #dark!reader #dark reader #s.myfics #series.whoweare

[sincerelythedarkside]

Who We Are || Part VIII

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers x Dark!Reader

Please do not repost/translate anywhere. Comments/reblogs are welcomed ♥

Summary: You know what you want out of life. You want to be loved—to be safe. You want to be taken care of and to take care of someone who will appreciate it. But you’ve been shackled, trapped in a never-ending nightmare. And your only saving grace will be enticing the dark side of America’s golden hero to want you—a game of who’s manipulating who. SERIES WARNINGS: 18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI. Dubcon sex, noncon/rape, somnophilia, manipulative behaviour, possessive behaviour, dark themes. Do NOT read if these are triggering for you. CHAPTER WARNINGS: explicit smut. handjob, oral (male receiving), use of good girl, petnames (sweetheart, honey, baby), hints of somnophilia. [Set after Civil War & the Accords were abolished]

Note: sorrrYYyyy. I will not lie, life has been busy and I had a writer's block for this for a hot minute. I think I have the timeline for this all fucked up LOL who knows how many chapters I can finish this in 😳

Comment reblog responses at @sincerelythedarksidereblogs.

TAGLIST: I can't keep up with the comments to be on the taglist, so just fill this series taglist form LOL If you want to be on my permanent/full taglist, here's the form <3

PART I || PART II || PART III || PART IV || PART V || PART VI || PART VII

Count: ~5k

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵

You: If you're a good person and on my side, why can't you just help me without giving me an ultimatum? Isn't that what Avengers do?

Wanda: Don't be greedy. I never said I was a good person. Unless you want to tell me that you're in love with Steve and can't bear to make him get his hands dirty, consider your options carefully.

You sighed as you dropped your phone beside your head and stared at the ceiling from your bed. A week had passed since Wanda had approached you.

Despite your deadline approaching quickly, you were nowhere closer to deciding what you wanted.

What was the best option? The surest one?

You tried to limit your time spent with Steve in the week, only seeing him two or three times. There was a fine line you were treading between getting close and getting fucked by him.

Ever since the first night he touched you, your body constantly felt like livewires. You burned when he was close, and the ache only got worse as you resisted.

But the idea of wanting Steve's touch revolted you as well. How could you want his touch? Just because he wasn't like Henry—because he thought about your needs, you wanted it?

You had to remind yourself that Steve was nothing more than a different kind of monster. That the Golden Boy Captain America image was nothing more than the facade. Steve Rogers was holding a man hostage, for fuck's sake.

But then you distantly realized that you had put Blake in that situation, knowing full well what Steve Rogers could do. And when you were confronted with the truth of his snap location, you helped Steve hide it.

You felt a burn in the back of your throat and a numbing in the tip of your fingers and legs.

The price of freedom has always been high, and you knew exactly what it would cost you to get it. You just didn't expect that you could still mourn the loss of the good person you could've been if Henry had never come into your life.

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵

There seemed to be an ache that settled inside of Steve. Just right under his rib, that would spread and beat on his chest relentlessly.

Steve could only identify it as a deep pang of missing you that never went away, even when he was with you.

You were the only thing that he thought about. The very essence of your being was taking over Steve.

You.

You, you, you, you.

You.

Even now, as Steve stood across the street, watching you sit in a cafe as you read and quietly drank your coffee, he missed you.

You were his. He could hold you, kiss you, touch you. He could have your time and your affections, but it wasn't enough.

Steve felt like there was still a distance between you and him, and he was eager to close it.

And Steve had an inkling about what was causing the distance between the two of you. He remembered the day he came to pick you up after dinner with your father.

Steve parked his motorcycle across the street a couple feet away from the restaurant. You were just coming out of the restaurant with Henry. Steve was about to raise his hand to yell for your attention.

But he was stopped in his tracks.

It looked like you were saying your farewells to him, getting ready to turn around and leave, when Henry gripped your wrist and yanked you back. It wasn't rough or anything, but Steve hadn't liked someone touching his girl like that at all, even if the man was her stepfather.

Steve couldn't hear what was being said, but suddenly, you pressed a kiss to the side of Henry's cheek, much too close for Steve's liking. It looked like you were giving a strained smile. Steve watched as Henry leaned in and whispered something in your ear before he let you go.

With that, you stood at the edge of the sidewalk, pulling out your phone. Steve didn't need to wait for the text to come in before driving his motorcycle right up to you.

"Hello, Henry," Steve greeted politely as he pulled off his helmet. His eyes were somewhat sharp as he gazed at the older man.

"Steve," Henry greeted evenly. He then turned to you. "Don't be out too late."

Henry left without another word, and you were left standing in front of your boyfriend.

"Hey," you smiled at him but only lightly, and it was unsettling for Steve.

"Hey," he greeted, leaning in for the kiss and frowned as you casually dodged it, turning your head to see that the valet boy hadn't returned with Henry's car yet.

"Should we go? We're holding up traffic," you said. Steve stared at you for a couple of seconds before he handed you his helmet to put on.

Even when Steve had asked you about it later, you shrugged it off.

"Henry is just an affectionate person," you said. "We're close."

"Close?" Steve's eyes squinted.

"Yeah," you answered, hesitating for a moment before you added, "He loves me even though I'm just his step-daughter."

Steve had left it at that, but the entire thing unsettled him. That night when Sharon left before he met up with Tony, he asked the genius billionaire to look into Henry and his business.

Unfortunately, nothing suspicious had come up. Henry was well-respected in his community and had many friends in high places. He ran his businesses with airtight legality.

But Steve still felt something was wrong.

You were keeping secrets, and Steve hated nothing more than secrets that were kept from him.

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵

Wanda's deadline was coming up in three days, and you were no closer to deciding what to choose.

Steve had been your Plan A from the beginning. You had planned on how to escape him afterward, too. Were you ready to abandon all of that? Abandon the difficulty and sureness of Steve for the potential easiness, yet unsureness of Wanda?

You didn't know. This was your fucking life, and you wanted to be sure of the choice you were making.

"I was thinking," Steve adjusted himself to lean up on one arm, turning fully on his side as he threw his arm over you. You turned over towards him as he pulled you close, throwing his leg over you. "That maybe it'd be nice if I found a new apartment? You know, for us?"

The day had been spent vigorously with a date at the aquarium and laughter. Talks of random things over food and flirting over drinks. It was ending in his room at The Compound, the two of you freshly showered and ready for bed.

It took a lot of effort on your end to lie to your mum and have her convince your dad that you were staying the night at your coworker, Gwen's, for a girls' night in.

"You want me to move in with you?" You asked, sounding surprised. You were a little bit, in truth. You hadn't been dating that long at all.

Steve was still waiting for Sharon to come back for a pregnancy test and calculations of when it could've happened if she was with child.

"Of course I do, sweetheart," Steve leaned in, his lips brushing over your brow. "I've never been more serious about anyone than I am about you. I hate being apart. Don't you?"

You were unsure. You didn't miss Steve when you were apart, but you did think about him a lot.

"Yes," you placed your arm around his waist, burying your nose into his chest. "It's hard waking up and not seeing your face." Because if you weren't seeing his face, then you were seeing Henry's.

Steve gave a deep chuckle where you could feel the vibrations in his chest.

"So, should we start apartment hunting?" Steve asked.

You sighed as you pulled back slightly. "I just don't know if now's a good time," you told him vaguely. "Henry's busy with work lately and it's not good for my mum to be alone often. Can we wait until things settle down a little?"

Steve peered down at you, trying to read your expression before lightly. "Of course, honey," he rubbed your back. "Maybe I could find the apartment first anyway and you can move in when things are settled."

You smiled at him, tilting your face as you kissed him chastely. Steve's eyes fluttered close, and he leaned in deeper to catch more of your lips. You giggled, "That sounds perfect."

Steve grinned, his hand drifting up your shirt—his shirt, really. His fingers grazed firmly up your spine, causing goosebumps to form.

"You know what would be perfect," Steve husked.

Your breath hitched as Steve's hand drifted to your front, his warm hand cupping your breast as he squeezed.

Shit, you bit your tongue. You had managed to stave off sex with various day activities and usually returning back home at night. You could often get away with lustful kisses and a quick handjob in a rush, but Steve was starting to catch on that he was receiving more than he was giving.

And Steve was an eager giver.

But the idea of sex again with Steve scared the shit out of you. His hands felt too good, and he was ambitious in his quest to learn how to pluck your body like a violin.

You knew from the first time that Steve could make you cum, and if you weren't careful, he could force an orgasm out of you despite your best efforts to pretend otherwise.

"Steve," you trembled as he rolled over you.

"Oh, I really like it when you whimper like that," Steve pressed kisses against your jawline and down your throat. He sucked, nibbled, and licked his way into marking your skin.

Your panties were growing wet as Steve ground into you. He moaned softly, and you gritted your teeth at how pretty he sounded.

Control.

You needed to control the situation.

You nudged Steve back up and captured his lips ardently, your hands grasping the edge of his shirt as you lifted it off of him, breaking the kiss. You lifted your head up, catching his lips once more before you pressed kisses against his neck.

Your hand drifted downward, dipping into his boxers as you took hold of his hardness.

Steve sighed sharply at the contact.

"So hard," you mumbled against his neck. "I like knowing I make you hard, baby."

You could feel Steve swallow against your lips.

"Do you think about me?" You whispered against his throat, pressing a soft kiss as you stroked him slowly. You reached the tip and spread his pre-cum down his shaft. You adjusted your pressure as you went up and down.

"Oh, fuck, I do. I think about you all the time, sweetheart," Steve was trembling above you, doing his best to hold himself up as his hips bucked with your hand. "Think about you in the mornin', afternoon, night—I'm never not thinkin' of you."

You smiled, knowing he could feel it.

It was easier like this to push your way over until Steve was on his back. You left wet kisses down his collarbone, chest, and his abs.

"Really?" You asked almost innocently. "What do you think of when you think of me?"

You slowly sat up, grabbing the ends of your shirt in a criss-cross motion as you dragged it over your head. Steve stared at your naked chest with lust.

You lifted yourself just enough to take off your panties, an obvious wet patch on it before you took off Steve's with his help.

Sitting on his thigh, you sighed as you dragged your sex down as he flexed, smearing your wetness over him.

Leaning over him, you began to descend your head near his throbbing, hard cock.

"Do you think of me like this?" You peered up at him through your lashes. "Ready and desperate for you in my mouth?"

Steve's cheeks were red as his hands caressed your arm, up your elbow to your shoulders. "Just one of the ways I think of you," he managed to answer.

You gave him a quick smile before you kissed his tip before pushing it just past your lips.

The warmth of your mouth had Steve moaning, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

He was salty but not in a way that made you gag.

You kept taking more of him in your mouth, relaxing your jaw until he hit the back of your throat.

"Fuck. Fuck," Steve cursed, his head falling back against the pillow. "Mouth feels so fucking good, sweetheart. Just made for me."

Steve slid just a little down your throat, and it was all you could take. He was too big to take completely in your mouth, but what you couldn't take, you took care of with your hand.

Your mouth worked in unison with your hands. You bobbed up and down, occasionally moaning in the back of your throat. The vibrations of your mouth made Steve groan. His hands threaded through your hair as he gripped it, doing his very best to make sure he didn't slam all the fucking way into your mouth.

"Shit, wait, wait, hold on," Steve groaned, his body tensing as you started to massage his balls with your other hand. "I really wanna come inside you."

You looked up at him as you slowly slid him out your mouth with a pop.

"Really?" You licked your lips. "'cause I want you to cream right inside my mouth."

Steve was panting as he screwed his eyes shut.

"Are you gonna let me taste you, Stevie?" You faux pouted, and Steve lifted his head, eyes dilating at how worked up you looked. Your lips were swollen from taking him.

"You want me to cum inside that sweet mouth of yours?" Steve husked.

You licked your lips in response, and Steve dragged his thumb over your bottom lip to the corner, smearing your saliva that leaked out.

"Then you're gonna have to take it like a good girl," Steve grunted before his hand went back to gripping your head, pushing his cock inside your mouth as he began thrusting.

It was a fine line that only Steve could manage between pushing you just past your limits and before making you gag violently.

"You better not let a single drop go to waste since you asked for this, sweetheart," Steve growled, his hips finding a rhythm as he shuddered.

"Touch yourself," Steve commanded, and you barely managed to catch his lust-driven eyes at how you were on your knees, bent over his cock, taking it in your mouth however he wanted it.

Your lifted an unsteady hand and drifted it between your legs, your fingers dipping between your dripping folds. You swiped at your clit, rubbing tight circles around it. Your thigh trembled as you moaned, the vibrations causing Steve to pull at your hair harder.

"Fuck, that's it," Steve couldn't take his eyes off at your hand stroking yourself. "I think about this all the time. Wonder if you lie in bed at night touchin' yourself when you think of me."

You whimpered.

"Better make yourself cum with me, sweetheart. I wanna see you make a mess of your hand," Steve's thrusting began to get quicker.

Your underlying fear was that if you didn't make yourself cum, Steve would take it upon himself. And with how close you were now, you weren't sure if you could hold out if Steve took his turn.

"I'm gonna cum," Steve warned before he blew his load seconds after. The suddenness and amount that flooded your mouth had you trying to pull away, but Steve's grip remained tight as he kept you in place. You gripped his thigh harshly as his cum worked its way down your throat.

The roughness of Steve and your fingers stroking yourself until you were at your limit had you cumming with a sharp whimper when you pressed against your clit.

Your orgasm was harsh and quick, washing over just the same as you came down. Steve's grip relaxed as you were able to pull your sore jaw off as he slowly softened.

As if to prove you came, you gathered the extra slick of your cum over your fingers. You dragged your body up to his before you leaned over face-to-face with him. Pressing your fingers against his lips, Steve took them into his mouth greedily as he sucked. His eyes fluttered at your taste.

"So good," he muttered. "So good and perfect for me."

Steve rolled you over, so you were on your back again. He pressed kisses everywhere he could over your face slowly. "My best girl," he whispered between kisses.

With the last bit of his energy, he dragged himself to the bathroom, grabbing a towel to clean your thighs and between your legs. He cuddled up against you, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

"Love you," Steve sighed. "Can't wait to always be like this."

"Yeah," you whispered into the darkness of the room, barely lit by the moonlight. "I hope we can always be like this too..."

You waited until you could hear Steve's breaths become steady and light.

Your body felt lighter after cumming, and you reasoned that your pleasure was still yours. After all, you used your own fingers.

This was what you liked about the sureness of Steve. Steve, you could control. You could use your affections, your feminity, and sex to push Steve into what you wanted.

Wanda was an unknown variable you couldn't control. You couldn't bat your eyelashes and use sex to get Wanda to do what you wanted. Well, you could try, but you hardly doubt it would result in anything.

What Wanda was asking for was to trust her to get you out of this, and you couldn't. You didn't trust anyone to save you. You didn't even trust Steve. The only person you could trust to keep you was you.

With that, you felt your decision begin to solidify as your own eyes drifted shut.

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵

Steve's eyes opened when he felt your body go limp, your breathing evening out with little movement even as he shifted.

Tonight, Steve confirmed his suspicions.

You were somewhat reluctant to have sex with him. And by sex, Steve meant having anything to do with Steve taking control and touching your body—particularly your pussy.

Steve liked paying close attention to his partner in bed. Of course, he would notice. He liked the aspect of making his partner come. Something was pleasing to Steve that he could control someone's pleasure because that's what an orgasm was. Uncontrolled pleasure.

Steve tried to reason what it could be.

It wasn't a lack of attraction. Steve could see and feel how your body reacted to him, and there were times when you pressed into his hands eagerly.

Trauma? You were present when you were in bed with him. So, you seemed to have no issues with sex itself.

It was something, though. Maybe it was trauma, a form that Steve wasn't familiar with. Whatever it was, it made you greedy about your pleasure.

Steve gently adjusted himself to pull you closed, his hands drifting over your bare skin.

This was his.

Everything you were was his.

Just like everything he was, was yours.

Steve groped at your chest, his thumb caressing your nipple back and forth until it was hard. Then, he moved his hand down, his fingertips lightly ghosting over your ribs and stomach before they dipped between your legs.

So greedy you were, Steve thought as his fingers slipped between your warm folds. You grumbled slightly, shifting back into his cock.

Steve moaned quietly as he slowly hardened, pushing his boner between your asscheeks, grinding.

You were slowly getting wet from his fingers, and all Steve could think about was burying his cock into you, forcing his way in until he was deep inside. The idea of fucking you just like this until his thrusts woke you up had him throbbing.

What could you do then but just take his cock until he made you cream over it?

It was only because you were so greedy with how you came.

But Steve buried his head into your hair as he took a deep breath, pulling his hand away as he used your scent to calm down.

Steve wanted to keep you and really keep you. And that took patience and the right steps.

He would make you come, and it would be because you were asking—begging for it.

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵

You: Thank you for offering to help me. But the truth is, I don't trust you. Or Steve. I can only trust myself.

Wanda: Trust yourself? You're trusting Steve that he'll save you from this, are you not? I think you're fooling yourself if you believe that you'll always be the one having Steve wrapped around your finger.

You: I trust in my ability to make Steve do what I want. I trust myself to plan accordingly after whatever happens. I don't need him wrapped around my finger all the time—if that's not where I want him. You said you understood me. If our positions were reversed, would you trust me?

Wanda: Probably not.

You: I can't trust anyone with my freedom. If I want it, then I have to be in control.

Wanda: Good girl.

Wanda: I quite like you, you know. I won't interfere with this matter anymore, but I'll be watching. Rooting for your success, whatever that may look like.

You: Thank you.

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵

The days and nights passed like nothing. Time passed by like nothing.

Blake had no idea anymore how many days had passed. He was tired.

The glass pane window started to change, and Blake's eyes lit up as he saw Captain America standing on the other side.

"Please..." Blake brokenly whispered. "Please just let me go."

"Well," Steve smiled. "Today is your lucky day."

The words didn't really register properly with Blake. It felt like he was never going to hear those words.

"Really?!" Blake exclaimed as he jumped up, coming up towards the glass. "You...you were able to check out what I said? About Henry?"

Steve nodded. "Well, sort of," Steve hummed. "It's rather all from my own investigation and observation, really. Any information I could find on Henry was just an upstanding citizen."

Blake stared at Steve, not daring to interrupt.

"Strange, though, isn't it?" Steve mulled as if it was only to himself. "Why would an upstanding citizen care so much about who his daughter is dating? His step-daughter at that."

Blake paled.

"I mean, it's not like she's not an attractive girl, you've gone on a date with her," Steve smiled. "She's perfect, isn't she? Beautiful, charming, witty, funny—she'd have no problem finding someone, that much I'm sure of."

"Why are you looking into her?" Blake felt his limbs becoming heavy, but he wasn't sure if it was because he was scared of the answer or if it had just been locked in here too long.

Steve ignored the question and continued on. "I thought—maybe Henry was just an old fashioned man. I get it, I'm from the 40s after all," he shrugged. "But the longer I watch him, well, Blake, let's just say I'm not liking what I see."

Blake closed his eyes, taking a slow breath to calm himself. "Whatever you're looking to get from Henry, I don't want to be involved. Please just let me go and I'll quit the company. I'll move far, far away. I don't have anything to offer you anymore, sir."

Steve puckered his lips together, nodding as if that was a possible solution.

"The only problem is," Steve sighed, "You being around prevents me from getting what I want."

It dawned on Blake in an instant.

"You want her." The words fell out of Blake's mouth like water.

Steve remained unfazed.

"I don't want her," Blake instantly insisted with as much passion in his voice as he could muster. "I don't want her. She doesn't want me. I'll stay away from her!"

But Steve merely sighed. "I'm just lookin' out for you as well, Blake. I let you go, and what? You tell Henry you don't wanna be involved with whatever plans he has for his step-daughter? You think he'll just smile, slap you on the shoulder, and let you go without a single repercussion?"

Blake knew the answer to that instantly. Henry was a viper lurking just underneath the surface. Ruin would be the only outcome for Blake no matter where he went unless he moved somewhere internationally and remote.

Steve put his hands to his hips, his index finger tapping against his slacks. "I mean, we have to think about this, Blake. Your role was to keep suitors away from her but not actually be with her. How does Henry benefit from having his step-daughter remain chaste? Was she to remain chaste when you married her?"

The insinuations were clear, but Blake couldn't comment on it. Sure, he had an inkling that maybe Henry was a little too possessive of his step-daughter. But that was none of his business. His instructions were clear.

It was an arranged set-up and to respectfully keep his hands to himself. He could take on other women for all Henry cared. Follow that, and Henry would groom Blake to be his heir for the company. Don't follow those rules, and Henry would make sure Blake couldn't even find a retail job.

But what did any of that matter if Captain America didn't let him go?

"Alright," Blake said slowly. "Let's make a deal and shake hands. Let me go and I'll be on your side. I'll pretend to keep the arrangement with Henry and I'll report every single detail you want me to and find out whatever you need."

Steve placed his hands behind his back and nodded his head. "Ah, like a double agent?"

Blake nodded eagerly. "Exactly. And whatever we need to do to put Henry away, we'll do it. Then we can go our separate ways. Fair?"

"And how can I trust that you won't divulge all that's happened to you?" Steve hummed.

"I'll sign whatever NDA form. This is an official investigation, right? Whatever the Avengers need to do isn't my business. Besides, it's not like I was tortured or anything. This place had what I needed and you provided food." Blake put his own hands behind his back, trying to hide the tremors.

Steve merely gave Blake a small smile.

"Well, it certainly would be a good option," Steve nodded.

Blake felt his heart thud in his chest excitedly. So close, so close to freedom.

"The only issue is I'm not looking to spy on Henry," Steve sighed. "What I want to know is if you were just a one off or will this be a pattern? Because if this is going to be a pattern, I'm going to have some bigger issues."

Steve lifted his index finger and pointed up, watching as Blake's eyes followed.

Right above Blake hung the fire sprinklers.

Then, something came out of it, and it wasn't water.

The back of Blake's throat burned and felt like it was closing up. He was getting dizzy, stumbling as his hands flew to grasp at his neck as he began coughing. Falling to his knees, his face began to turn a violent red, veins protruding at his temples.

"Unfortunately," Steve sighed, frowning as if he was devastated with himself. "I'll only find out if it's a pattern if they think you're dead. I really wanted to make it missing and just keep you here, but you see, I don't really have time nowadays for the upkeep on you when I have a girl of my own to take care of."

Steve watched as Blake struggled for air, gasping for nothing before falling onto his back, hand falling to the side. Life slowly faded away from his eyes until he was completely still.

"I'm also not really a fan of the whole double agent thing," Steve waved his hand around nonchalantly. "A double agent could also become a triple agent. It's human nature for people to side with whatever is the best when faced with options."

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵

"God, it's so terrible. I can't believe it."

You could barely hear your mother and Henry's stressed sighs as you read the newspaper.

Man found dead in his car of carbon monoxide. Suspected suicide.

Blake Henley was found dead last night in his car parked in his garage. Sources say he was a troubled young man, prone to drinking and gambling and accumulated debt. He had returned home to care for his mother, who passed away two days ago due to organ failure before Blake allegedly took his life. Sources also say that the death of his mother may have been the reason Blake tipped over the edge. Police are still investigating, but Detective Ramirez says all signs point to suicide. If you're thinking about suicide, are worried about a friend or loved one, please call 1-800-273-8255

You read the lines over and over again. A mix of emotions swirled inside you.

Guilt. Elation. Guilt. Justification. Guilt. Anticipation.

You looked up, catching eyes with Henry. He didn't suspect you one bit, but it was like he could see what you were thinking.

Henry narrowed his eyes at you, and it was like a silent battle.

You think this is over? You think you could ever escape me?

Never. I would never dare think I could make you let me go.

There was something self-satisfying in Henry's face as you turned your head down and away.

You looked down at the newspaper, a small smile on your lips.

But Steve Rogers could. He'll chop your hands off if you insist on holding on.

#dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!steve x reader #dark steve rogers imagine #dark steve rogers fanfiction #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #dark!steve rogers smut #chris evans fanfiction #steve rogers smut #s.myfics #series.whoweare

[sincerelythedarkside]

Who We Are || Part II

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers x Dark!Reader

Summary: You know what you want out of life. You want to be loved—to be safe. You want to be taken care of and to take care of someone who will appreciate it. But you've been shackled, trapped in a never-ending nightmare. And your only saving grace will be enticing the dark side of America's golden hero to want you—a game of who's manipulating who.

SERIES WARNINGS: 18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI. Dubcon sex, noncon/rape, somnophilia, manipulative behaviour, possessive behaviour, dark themes. Do NOT read if these are triggering for you.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: noncon/rape, somnophilia

[Set after Civil War & the Accords were abolished]

Note: I’m thinking this series will probably have 10 parts? Things will start to pick up!

PART I

Count: ~3.7K

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵

There's something to be said about heroes and prince charmings. 

If you are the damsel in distress, realize now that no one is coming to save you. The hero will sacrifice you to save everyone else, and prince charming is always the beast in disguise. 

This is a lesson you've learned early on after being captured. As the damsel in distress, you have two options: accept your fate with the beast or do what you must to save yourself.

It's hard to say which option you've chosen. There was a time where you had tried to save yourself. When telling your mother was no longer an option, you had tried many things. 

There had been various acts of running. Henry was graciously patient with you, and instead of coming through with his threat, he showed you that he could find you, that there was no place for you to run.

You've tried to find peace on the side by dating different men.

There were other socialites, cops, CEOs, and politicians. Henry got rid of them too easily. His influences reached too wide, and he was determined to keep you in it without anyone else.

So, seeing other men no longer interested you. There was no point. So, you think you turned to try to accept your fate with the beast. 

After all, it was easier in some ways. Your mother stayed happy, and you didn't feel like you had to fight all the time. You tried to be good, be what Henry wanted, but he just didn't know anything outside of keeping a leash on you and using your body. 

You were just a thing to him. A pretty thing that he owned. As long as you didn't try to escape him, things were always stagnant. 

You came home a little after 2AM, exhausted and ready to sleep. But, lying in bed, your mind replayed the night over and over. 

Steve Rogers had something dark lurking just beneath the surface. You wonder what kind of darkness it was. Was it like Henry? Or was it like yours?

You like the idea that Captain America stood for freedom. He could be yours. But what did Steve Rogers stand for? 

You're pretty sure that if you just confessed to Steve about Henry, the goodness in him would do something. But you didn't want Captain America to handle your shackles the just way. Henry would merely, but finally, go to jail. But even Captain America could only keep a civilian like Henry in prison for so long. 

It wasn't like Henry was a threat to the world—just yours. Henry would eventually make it out of jail, and he would come through good on his threat. Your mother's happiness would shatter like glass, and there would be no one to blame but yourself for the misery that would come after. 

So, you don't need Captain America—you need Steve Rogers.

You were done trying to accept your fate with the beast, and you were done trying to save yourself. 

You're going to create a third option: find another beast to save you.

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵

You wake to something painful. Sensation slowly returns to you as you realize your legs are spread with something heavy settled in between. 

"Oh, are you awake, pretty girl?" The voice is gruff before you feel sloppy kisses on your neck and collarbone. 

You grunt as you squirm against the harsh thrusts, your shirt pushed up just past your chest.

"Nice and quiet now," Henry whispers in your ear. "Didn't hear you come home, you naughty girl. You know I like fucking you when you come back. You need it, don't you? A nice, rough fucking to help you sleep."

You don't answer it, but Henry grips your hair brutally. 

"You need it, don't you?" He hisses in your ear.

"Yes," you gasp, but the grip doesn't loosen any.

"That's what I thought," he mumbles before he slams his lips against yours. 

You want to say stop, that the sensation doesn't feel right. There's not enough pleasure to go with the pain. But you know, saying such words have no effect—that Henry doesn't care about things like your pleasure unless he wants to humiliate you. 

You're just a tight hole to him.

"Keep your legs spread," Henry warns you when you squirm.

He begins to thrust faster and harder, wanting to reach his end. 

"God, you feel good. I'm going to keep you forever," Henry's hand slides down to grip your breast viciously. 

You feel your stomach drop. Your head shakes slightly in reflex.

"You think I can't?" Henry laughs cruelly. "Who else is going to want you? This pussy belongs to me. God, it's unbelievable you're still so tight after I've fucked you so many times. You think anyone else is going to want you after I've used you up?"

You want to screw your eyes shut, but you know that will only make Henry angry. 

"Don't worry, pretty girl, I'll keep you right by me always," Henry gives you a hard smile. "You'll marry who I tell you to, live where I buy you a house. I might even knock you up and everyone will think it belongs to your husband, but we'll all know who it really belongs to. Well, everyone except your mum. She'll be so happy, though."

You bite your tongue, but you're starting to see the horrible future he's describing. 

Henry's thrust starts getting erratic, quicker and harder.

"Fuck, gonna cum," he groans.

The same as always. There had been somewhat of a build, but Henry was quick to chase his own pleasure.

You feel the familiar hot, sticky ropes of his cum shoot inside you. All you can do is be thankful you're on birth control. 

Henry stills, riding out his orgasm until he finally settles and pulls out of you.

You turn your head to see it's barely 5AM. Your mum would still be dead asleep and would be for another six hours at least. 

Henry gets up, grabbing his pants from the floor as he puts them on. He turns and smirks at you. "I have to get ready for work. It's your day off, isn't it?"

You sit up, nodding as you feel his cum slide out of you. 

"Make sure you're home for dinner," Henry tells you. "I'll be bringing home a nice, new associate from work. I've taken him under my wing and he's just so grateful, you know? Would do anything I asked since it guarantees his future."

The way Henry is smirking at you has your stomach dropping.

His words as he fucked you weren't just a sick fantasy to help him reach his end. Henry was serious that he was going to control every aspect of your life to keep you close. 

This was the start. Introducing you to some man you'd have to date before marrying. This stranger would do it just to make sure his future was set. He would be allowed to take other women as long as he didn't touch you because you're only Henry's to touch. 

It's been a long time since you felt the urge to vomit. 

Henry kisses the side of your head, pleased by everything. "I'll see you later tonight, pretty girl." He leaves your room quietly without another word.

You feel sick—scared. Your thighs and hands tremble. You shakily get up to get into your shower. 

You had wanted to take things slowly, but there was a chance you couldn't afford slow. You couldn't just wait for days at work and hope Steve showed up.

You need to create your own opportunities. 

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵

Despite your determination, your day started off slowly. You made breakfast for your mum to heat up when she decided to wake. You skipped out yourself, in no mood to eat as you lounged around. 

After that, you decided to go to the local cafe before going on a walk through Central Park. You were in somewhat of a daze. 

How would you create more opportunities to see Steve? It wasn't like you knew where their secret base was—though you suspected it wouldn't be so close to the city. You could try to hang around the Stark Tower, but at most, you'd see Tony Stark. 

It wasn't until you heard your name being called that you stopped and turned around. Shock entered your face as you witnessed the man in question jogging up to you.

Steve was wearing a t-shirt, sweats, and runners. You realized he was out on a run, doing poorly to conceal himself with a baseball cap.

"Steve," you smiled lightly at him. "Hi."

"Hi," Steve grinned back at you. "Out for a walk?"

You nodded, tucking your hair behind your ear as you peered up at him. Steve's eyes dilated as he watched you.

"Yeah," you nod. "I see you're out on a run. Do you often go on a run here?"

The question was innocent enough.

"Yeah," Steve smiled at you. "It's close to my apartment and the view is nice."

You blinked, surprised that Steve had his own apartment. You would've assumed he lived with the other Avengers. 

"I go at the same time unless I have other things to do. I don't think I've seen you out here before," Steve tilts his head, and you feel a blush rise to your cheeks.

You shake your head. "I'm only here once in a while. I like the coffee shop near here," your voice trails. 

"Ah," Steve answers, having caught the coffee in your hand and the brand. "Surprisingly, I don't think I've ever had their coffee yet."

You looked affronted, and Steve had to press his lips together to prevent himself from laughing. 

"You're definitely missing out," you tell him as you lift your coffee to offer him some.

Steve's eyes widen a little at the gesture, and you feel a momentary wave of panic that maybe this was too much. But before you could apologize and see if he had time to go to the coffee shop again with you, Steve takes the cup. He lifts it to his lip, tipping the cup back and letting the iced beverage slide over his tongue and down his throat.

It's not as acidic or bitter as usual coffee is. It was also smoother and sweeter, but not too sweet because you hadn't put too much sugar flavouring.

Steve lets out a pleased hum, feeling his groins burn when you look excited.

"It's good," he concedes as he hands the cup back to you. 

Steve has to try to control himself from getting a boner when he watches you take a sip of your coffee, your lips exactly in the same place he put his. 

"It's cold brew and they make it the best," you smile. "They have really good bakery items too."

"You'll have to show me one of these days," Steve tells you.

You let another flush reach up to your cheeks because you see the way Steve can't stop looking at you when you do. 

"Okay," you agree, and Steve feels satisfied with it. 

A silence falls between the two of you, standing there and looking at each other. Strangers pass by the two of you.

Steve checks his watch before looking back at you. "I just finished my jog but I haven't eaten breakfast yet. Have you?"

You shake your head.

"Would you want to eat together?" Steve asks shyly. "I know a great diner nearby."

You pause for a moment, absently thinking about how such a great opportunity has fallen in your lap.

Steve frowns at the pause. "I mean, you don't have to," he backpedals. "I understand if you think it's weird to see me outside of work..."

You shake your head. "No, I don't mind," you tell him. "Usually I do try to refrain from seeing my regulars outside of work but seeing how we already have our own little special arrangement when I'm at work, I think we can manage breakfast without it being strange. You're definitely one of my less weird regulars."

Steve grins at that. "Just less weird?"

"That's as good as my compliment gets. Don't go fishing for more, Mr. Rogers," you waggle your finger at him.

A laugh erupts from Steve, and you let yourself smile at the sound. 

"Fine, I'll accept less weird," Steve concedes. "Do you mind if we stop by my place first? I'm pretty gross and sweaty. I think I'd be doing us both a favour if I showered before we went to eat."

You pause again before you nod. "Sure."

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵

Steve smiled as he walked with you back to his apartment.

You were so sweet, so trusting of him. 

Sure, there had been moments of hesitation, but you agreed in the end. 

His body felt flushed with how hard he was fighting off a boner from forming. Steve knew he was going to have to rub one out when he was in the shower. 

It was wrong, Steve knew. The lines and boundaries he set for himself were starting to blur a little. But he craved you. It had been a couple of months now since he started going to the casino as much as he could and when he knew you'd be performing. 

But it wasn't enough. Those few short hours weren't enough.

Steve would end up going home late at night, waking Sharon with heated kisses before fucking her. It was good; it always was. But then he'd start imagining what it'd be like if you were the one underneath him as he ploughs into you. 

Sharon was a good bed partner. She was passionate, but she was also domineering. It was fine for Steve; it made for good sex at times.

But Steve imagines you would be a little more bashful in bed. He imagines you'd try to muffle the sounds of your pleasure he inflicted upon you until it was too much and you couldn't hold back anymore. 

Steve imagined you so blind with the pleasure he gave you, words of plea leaving your mouth that you didn't even realize you were begging him to let you cum. You'd be so soft and pliant in his hands.

And then, you'd beg him to cum inside you.

Steve had to take a shuddering breath to calm himself, ripping himself out of those thoughts of you while he walked.

The two of you had been talking about plays and the upcoming ones that would be performing in New York. 

Steve liked the way your eyes sparkled when you talked and focused on him. You were attentive like that when talking to anyone. 

He wanted it for himself.

The line was blurring again. 

Steve blames Sharon. Sharon was supposed to be everything he needed to be good and proper. And for the most part, he was when she was around.

But Sharon had gone on a mission and wouldn't be back for a while, and she refused Steve's offer to join her, stating she didn't need him. 

Sharon didn't need him. 

Steve looked at you as you talked. Did you need him?

With Sharon gone and leaving Steve's days to have more empty time, Steve found himself straying—straying towards you.

It was been easy enough to find out your work schedule early on. Steve had tried to leave it at that. Then, just to satiate himself, he found out where you lived but just so he could tell himself that going near that area was off-limits. He had done so well. 

Until last night. 

It was after your shift ended, the two of you giggling over the terrible cocktail you made for him, having long run out of the things you did know how to make. 

When the night ended, he didn't want to go separate ways. 

And so, it was too easy to follow you home. 

Although Steve had known the area you lived in, he was still shocked to see the posh house you lived in. It made him wonder why you bothered to have a strange night job at the casino. The property was vast and gated, with security cameras everywhere and guard dogs outside that kept him from crossing even more lines. 

Steve watched you enter your house, the light turning on in one room that he now knew was yours. You had the curtains open, naive and unsuspecting that anyone would be watching you late at night. 

Steve watched you strip, his cock hardening at the bare top-half of your body. He palmed himself through his jeans. He was just looking, he reminded himself. It wasn't long after you turned off the lights, and he assumed you went to bed. 

Still, Steve stayed there the entire night, and it was early morning that he saw you leave your house. 

He hid behind a tree as you got into a car. Steve ran after the vehicle with a respectful distance to keep himself from being exposed. It wasn't long that Steve realized the car was taking you to Central Park. He hadn't been lying when his apartment was nearby. He quickly made it back to his apartment, changing into jogging attire before making it back out. 

Steve was a fast runner; it didn't take him long to find you. You were walking slowly and aimlessly with coffee in your hand, and he followed you for a little while before he called out your name. 

"This is me," Steve tells you, and you clutch your bag a little tighter as you look up at the tall building.

"Which floor?" You ask him.

"36th."

"Posh," you tell him with a teasing smile, and Steve laughs again. He refrains from saying that you're the real posh one with where you live. 

The ride up the elevator is simple, and you end up hovering a little closer to Steve when a group of pretentious frat boys get onto the elevator. Steve can tell the young boys make you uncomfortable, and it warmed his heart to see you inch closer to him. 

It was proof, wasn't it? That you needed him, you saw him as safe. 

The crowded elevator gives Steve the chance to put his broad arm around you and pull you a little closer to avoid being bumped. You look a little shocked but turn and look up at him with an appreciative smile.

You're so sweet, Steve thinks. And you smell good. You smell like a warm August day and cinnamon.  

Steve helps you get off the elevator, navigating you through the trust-fund frat boys who belong on the top floors. Noticing one of the boys gazing at your backside with a leer, Steve turns his head back with an absolute menacing glare that scares them all. 

No one wanted to be on the bad side of Captain America.

When the two of you enter his apartment, he watches you look around with curiosity.

"Just make yourself at home, I'll be out in about twenty-five minutes," Steve tells you. Usually, it would only take him twenty, but he's giving himself the extra five to jerk off in the shower to the thought of you finally in his apartment. 

"This is a nice place, Steve," you tell him genuinely. The place is homey and clean, with tiny plants everywhere. It's a little piece of freedom that you want. 

Steve smiles at you with a quick thanks before he runs off to the bathroom. He watches you for a moment longer before he shuts the door. The sight of you putting your bag down and taking off your sweater, and sitting on his couch gives him plenty of fantasies for his shower.

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵

You turn on the TV so Steve would think you're watching something. Then, when you hear the water turn on, you get up and start looking around the place a little more closely. 

You're careful to not touch anything because Steve would undoubtedly know. A part of you is in a bit of shock that you're actually in Captain America's apartment. 

It's a lovely two-bedroom and two-bathroom with a kitchen and living space area. You suppose that being an Avenger would have to yield some good money.

One of the bedrooms is a workspace, it seems with computers set up and utterly barren with anyone important being locked in cabinets. 

When you walk into the master bedroom, you take your time to look around. The room feels distinctly like Steve. Clean, simple, with a bit of art on the walls. But it also had a feminine touch to it. 

Then, you see a picture on the nightstand. It's of Steve and another blonde woman. She's beautiful, you think. She's got long, straight hair, a pearly-white smile, clear skin, and long lashes. 

Steve Rogers had a girlfriend. And from the gun just under the woman's jacket in the photo, they were in the same line of work. 

That puts a little kink in your plans. This was now more than just seducing Steve Rogers. Now, you had his girlfriend to worry about too. 

You check the other washroom and the closet. There are a few things in it: an extra toothbrush and other basic women's toiletries. The closet had her clothes in it as well, but not too much.

Alright, you nod. They were probably a little serious, but they weren't living together yet. Since she wasn't here and Steve asked to have breakfast with you, you took a guess that she was out of town right now.

Maybe on a mission. 

You had no idea when his girlfriend would be back, but you needed to take advantage of the times she wasn't here. It would be a little hard to juggle between work and Henry wanting you home in the evening when he was back, but you could manage. 

You hear the shower turning off, and you leave his bedroom precisely the way you found it as you go back to sit on the couch, hugging a cushion and settling in like you've been there the entire time. 

You need to make the most of breakfast this morning. 

And you need to find out more about his girlfriend—find out about what kind of woman Steve Rogers dates. 

But in the end, she needed to go. 

She seemed like a nice woman, but there's no one who needs Steve Rogers more than you. 

PART III

#dark!steve x reader #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #dark steve rogers imagine #dark steve rogers fanfiction #dark!steve rogers fanfiction #dark!reader #dark reader #s.myfics #series.whoweare

[sincerelythedarkside]

Who We Are || Part III

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers x Dark!Reader

Summary: You know what you want out of life. You want to be loved—to be safe. You want to be taken care of and to take care of someone who will appreciate it. But you've been shackled, trapped in a never-ending nightmare. And your only saving grace will be enticing the dark side of America's golden hero to want you—a game of who's manipulating who.

SERIES WARNINGS: 18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI. Dubcon sex, noncon/rape, somnophilia, manipulative behaviour, possessive behaviour, dark themes. Do NOT read if these are triggering for you.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: attempted rape.

[Set after Civil War & the Accords were abolished]

Note: Thanks for all the comments, reblogs, and likes so far! Who do you think will out manipulate who in the end?

PART I || PART II

Count: ~5K

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵

"Oh, I love golf. Unfortunately, I'm not so good myself."

You let out a forced laugh in response as you cut tersely into your steak. 

It's the third weekly dinner that Henry had forced upon you with his associate, Blake. Nothing has quite happened, but your mum had been asking more if you were interested in Blake. Henry openly encourages it. 

Your only saving grace is that your mum would find it strange if you were to get involved with Blake too quickly. Thus, the weekly dinners. 

Blake and Henry are absently talking about some work anecdote, and you take the time to let your mind wander about. You've settled in a routine. 

During the day, you meet up with Steve for breakfast or lunch. He's tried to ask you to dinner, but you politely declined to say that you had to be home for dinner. You told him that you had...strict parents in that sense. 

Steve was happy to eat breakfast or lunch with you, though. It seemed his girlfriend was gone for quite some time, and it was today that she'd be returning.

Talking with Steve was easy. He never pried for too much information, like what you had gone to school for or why you weren't in your chosen profession, or even why you worked at a casino at night. But the conversations were always easy.

You made sure to laugh at his jokes, give him special shy smiles, and focus all your attention on him. 

He told you about Sharon. He didn't offer much, only that they had been seeing each other for almost a year. Steve said simple things about her—that she was smart, funny, and a no-nonsense woman who took life by the head. He shared a few stories about her.

In your opinion, it seemed strange for Steve to date such a woman. Steve was a complicated man. It seemed he did like strong women, but he liked strong women who were weak for him. 

Steve had a caring nature. He liked to hold the door open for you, make sure you walked on the inside of the sidewalk, cover your breakfast or lunches. Steve was someone who liked to be needed, and from the stories he shared about Sharon, it didn't seem like she needed him. 

Honestly, you didn't care. It made it easier for you to trip over nothing and make Steve catch you. It was easier to crowd closer to him when you felt like the area was too congested.

You brush against his arms and give him sweet smiles. You share your coffee with him and chat with him much longer at work. You'd text him late at night for long hours and call him to tell him you made it safely home. 

You could tell Steve liked it, and he liked it because he wasn't getting that anywhere else. 

Your phone buzzed in your pocket. You were sure it was Steve, but he'd have to wait. 

You felt something brush against your thigh, and you tense. Looking up, you see Henry staring down at his plate but smirking. Biting your own tongue, you look back down, trying to ignore his persisting caresses. 

The dinner ends after what feels like an eternity. Henry tells you to walk Blake out, your mum giggling in the process. You resist the urge to roll your eyes. 

You do as you're told as you walk with Blake. You go down the porch and down the stone path to lead him to his car. It's rather late out with dinner having gone on too long. 

You reach his car outside the gates. 

"This was really fun," Blake smiles at you, and you give him a small one back.

Fake. Blake was a fraud. He liked to act as if Henry hadn't told him to play the part of a shy boy wanting to date you. He acts as if he doesn't know that he's on a life-long plan. 

"Yeah," you say because everything you say to him is reported to Henry. You stare at the other man for a moment.

Blake wasn't ugly. In fact, he looked like your typical ivy-league graduate—toned, strong jaw-line, brown hair with easy eyes, and a charming smile. You would've probably dated him back when you thought having a boyfriend was possible. 

"I was hoping maybe we could see each other outside the weekly dinners?" Blake smiled, and you resist the urge to frown.

So, it was beginning.

You nod, nonetheless. 

"Awesome!" Blake smiled victoriously as if he truly didn't know your only answer couldn't have been anything else other than a yes. "Henry tells me you have a night job at the casino. I work during the day, but I was thinking we could grab lunch together Friday?"

You nod again. 

Blake exchanges numbers with you before he leaves, saying he'd text you the details for Friday. 

You watch him get into his car and drive off. 

You pull out your phone and look at the text from Steve.

Steve: How's dinner going?

You text back.

You: It was terrible.

Steve: Terrible like you want to talk about it, or terrible like your steak was overdone?

You: Both.

Steve: I'm all ears (eyes).

You can't help but let a soft giggle out. 

You: As always, you're the sweetest, but I don't think talking will do anything. It's getting pretty late, so I'm going to head to bed. Did Sharon get in okay?

Steve: She did. She's jetlagged, so she's been sleeping mostly. I'll let you get some sleep. Sharon wants to get brunch(?) tomorrow, but I'll see you tomorrow night at work?

You: Sounds like a plan :) I have a brilliant cocktail for you tomorrow 😈

Steve: Starting to have a sneaking suspicion you're actually trying to kill me.

You: I'm innocent until proven guilty, Rogers. You'll have to catch me in the act 😉 Anyway, heading to bed! Goodnight x

Steve: You're trouble. Sweet dreams x

You put your phone to sleep as you turn to walk back inside. 

Fine, if Henry wanted to use Blake to secure your future, you would too. 

You're going to put Blake on the spot and use him to see if Steve Rogers could get jealous. And if he did, how he handled jealousy.

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵

Steve stared at his phone. He let out a slightly frustrated sigh. 

You were such a flirty little thing, but you were so innocent at it. You probably had no idea what your words did to him. It was teasing him, enticing him to trap you. 

Steve was trying to be good. Why couldn't you see that?

He looked over at Sharon, who was sound asleep. She had been exhausted when she arrived but insisted on carrying her bag when he had come to pick her up. 

Steve could tell that she really needed sleep and tried to tuck her in to take care of her, but Sharon had insisted on sex. It had been too long, Steve agreed, but he was surprised by the ferocity Sharon had despite being tired.

But after them both cumming once, Sharon succumbed to sleep quickly. Steve had been tempted to leave her and go to your house to watch again, but Sharon woke up intermittently.

See? Sharon kept him good.

But even so, Steve couldn't keep you off his mind. He missed you. He liked talking to you and seeing you during the day. Though Steve had refrained from talking about anything too deep and vulnerable, he felt warm talking to you.

You were funny in a mischievous kind of way. You made jokes like they were only for Steve. But he also liked the way you let him take care of you.

They were small gestures Steve did, careful to not overdo it, but you accepted it easily and with appreciation. You gave up the fight to split the bill or cover him and instead thanked him in other ways.

You shared your coffee with him, brought him baked goods you thought he'd like. You'd sit in the park with him, bringing bird feed you'd both toss around. 

Steve remembered the one time the two of you got ice cream together. He went for classic chocolate while you went for something fruity. You stared at his cone until Steve offered you some. 

He thought you'd take the cone and give a lick, that would've been enough to set his groins on fire, and he'd have to refrain from immediately licking the same area you did.

But you did something else. Your gentle hands gripped his wrist to still it before you leaned in, sticking your tongue out to swipe slowly at his iced dessert.

Steve couldn't even stop his dick from hardening even if he wanted it to. 

You licked your lips after, looking up at him through your lashes with an innocent smile. 

"Can't go wrong with chocolate," you give him a sweet smile before you let go and focus back on your own ice cream like you didn't just evoke the hardest boner Steve's ever gotten. 

You didn't know what you did to him at all. 

He had to let you walk ahead so he could adjust his pants.

"So, can I try yours?" Steve asked as he caught up to you.

You turned to him, giving him a smirk. "No way, Rogers. As much as I love chocolate, I can't have you falling in love with black cherry and stealing the rest of my cone."

Steve couldn't help but laugh as he spent the rest of the afternoon chasing after you in gentle attempts to get a taste of your ice cream.

It was perfect, but every time he got to spend time with you, it was perfect. 

You're so sweet, and Steve knew he needed to protect that sweetness. Steve could do it. He could protect your sweetness and keep Sharon around to make sure he didn't cross any lines. 

That's why when he stared at your texts, re-reading them, he felt his chest fill with worry.

Why had dinner been terrible? Why wouldn't talking about them make it better? How would you know until you told him? Steve needed you to tell him. How could he make it better if you didn't tell him?

"Mm, Steve?" Sharon mumbled as she woke again. 

Steve turned off his phone, setting it on his nightstand before he turned to his girlfriend.

"You awake?" He smiled as he kissed her forehead.

"I'm so hungry," Sharon moaned. 

"Let me make you something," Steve offered to get up, but Sharon started to get up too.

"No, no, it's fine," Sharon said as she yawned. "I need to get up and stretch, so I'll make myself something quick while I'm at it. Do you want anything?"

Steve mentally sighed. "No, it's fine."

Sharon hummed as she leaned over to press a kiss to Steve's lips. 

Steve watched as Sharon got up and walked through the dark in the kitchen before turning the light on. When she was gone, Steve pulled out his phone again. 

Steve: Text me when you're awake. Let's have coffee together tomorrow morning. Craving cold brew, and I don't know how to order it without you.

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵

The cold brew is good, but not as good when he's drinking from your cup—where he can faintly taste your chapstick.

Steve watched you through the top of his cup as he drinks languidly. While you were always somewhat sluggish early in the morning, this was more solemn than usual.

Steve didn't like it. 

You were walking dazedly through Central Park with him, one hand holding your drink and the other picking at the hem of your sweater. 

He can fix it; Steve knows he can. He can fix whatever is making you sad. You just need to tell him. 

"Are you sure everything is okay?" Steve says to catch your attention.

You stop walking, turning around to him fully. Steve watches you curl your lips upward, smiling as if you don't want him to see whatever you're hiding—like you don't want him to worry. 

It makes Steve's heart clench. 

"Of course," you tell him with a tilt of your head as if to say he's being silly. 

"You can always tell me if something's bothering you," Steve frowns, his brow crinkling as he does. "You're my friend and I want to make sure you're okay."

Friend, Steve chants in his head.

But then you lift your delicate hand, pressing the pad of your index finger against his brow to smooth out the worried crinkle he has. Your touch is cool, and Steve suddenly aware of how poor your blood circulation must be.

You need him. You need him to warm your hands. 

"You're so good to me," Steve hears you mumble quietly as if he wasn't meant to hear it. 

Something is throbbing in Steve. Do you have any idea what you're doing to him? 

Then as quick as the touch came, you pulled your hand away. 

"Just a lot going on," you tell him finally with a shrug. "It'll be okay."

And before Steve can push you to say more, you've turned to walk again.

"C'mon, I only woke up this early to get coffee with you and you gotta leave soon to have brunch with Sharon. Let's walk around for a little longer, okay?"

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵

You could tell you were starting to drive Steve a little crazy. A part of you felt guilty, but you quickly squashed it down. You couldn't afford to feel guilty. 

Steve was really sweet, and he really was good to you—for now. You didn't know what Steve could be like if he snapped, and you weren't eager to find out. 

You think things are going well. There were rules and tricks to manipulation, and after all—everything you're doing has been done to you. 

And there were few things to assume about people who had darkness in them. One of them was to assume they were always watching you. 

You were working at the casino tonight, but tonight you weren't singing. You were waitressing on the floors tonight, which mean that Steve wouldn't come. 

At least, those were the unspoken rules. Steve only showed himself when you were singing. He probably didn't want to seem strange by coming to the casino all the time, especially since he told you he doesn't like gambling. 

But you assumed as long as Sharon didn't have him occupied, he was at the casino, watching you from afar. And you knew when that was, depending on how quickly he would reply to your texts. 

And tonight was one of those nights.

"Could I get you a drink, sir?" You asked as you passed by an old gentleman.

"Oh, whatever beer you've got on tap would be good, dear, thanks." The old gentlemen tipped you $3, and you walked off to the bar.

While waiting for the beer, you checked your phone.

Steve: How's work going?

You: Not bad. I've made $226 in tips.

Steve: No way! That's way more than you usually make when you're on the floors.

You: I think some fresh graduate was really drunk and gave me a $100. I'm not complaining, though. A girl has gotta make a living 😋

Steve: haha, you do have a terrible expensive coffee addiction. It's going alright otherwise?

You: And I've hooked you right into that lifestyle too. I'm a bad influence on you, Rogers. Yeah, it's okay. It's a little boring when you're not here for me to attempt to poison—I mean, make you cocktails 😇

You smile as you look at your phone. Just in case Steve is watching from somewhere. 

Steve: Terrible, terrible influence. I'm doing my best to live an upstanding life, and you've got me sinning on coffee. I would say we need to call it quits now, but we're in too deep. And it's okay to admit you've been trying to poison me. I'm sure without the super serum in my body, I may have already perished—especially after that last cocktail.

You actually huff and let out a scoff before a chuckle. 

You: That's horribly mean! You can't agree with me that I'm a terrible influence and make lousy cocktails. You're on timeout now.

Steve: Noo, I'm sorry. I would take it back, but I don't think I know how to delete a text on this phone. 

You: 🙄👴🏻

You're still smiling as you put your phone away, taking your tray with the beer and back to the older gentleman. 

As you made your way around, you caught another regular. 

Jacob.

But this was a red flag regular. All the girls who work here talk amongst themselves that Jacob is strange and gives them the heebie-jeebies. You've heeded their warnings and talks because Jacob was weird. 

He was always alone and stayed long hours despite only occasionally playing the slot machines and limited himself to two drinks. He was tall and lanky with an awkward posture. He had a gloomy look but always overcompensated his social awkwardness by being arrogant if you talked to him.

You knew his type right away. The one that was an outcast at school—bullied and alone. Jacob had a look that he could snap at any moment behind his big glasses and overgrown hair. 

But that was until Steve. 

Then, Jacob was just perfect for what you needed.

"Hi, Jacob," you greet him at a slot machine with a bright smile. 

"Hi," he stutters initially as he greets you. 

"How's your night going? Did you manage to get that special drops from your game?" You ask.

"Oh, you remembered that?" Jacob said with a blush, rubbing his sweaty hands on his pants.

"Of course," you say with a tilt of your head. "You only told me about it a couple days ago."

"Oh, right," Jacob sputtered before he grew confident. "Of course I did! I'm the best online player in that game. Beating the boss and getting the spoils were so easy. In fact, having a team actually slowed me down, but I thought I'd be nice and help other players get experience."

The words really flew over your head. You ran your fingers through your hair, rolling your eyes on how such a simple gesture could affect someone. It wasn't like Jacob was good at hiding how it affected him either.

"That's really amazing. I'm happy for you," you smile. "Did you want another drink?"

Jacob bit his lip. "I've already had two..."

"I understand," you nod.

"But I can get one more," Jacob said quickly at you. "What's the harm?"

You smile. "You got that right. I'll get your usual?" 

"Yes!" Jacob exclaims, happy that you remembered. He gives you a $10 tip, which you thank him for before you walk off again to take more orders before going back to the bar. 

The idea came to you that night after Blake had asked you out to lunch Friday. The next day at work, you saw Jacob, and things clicked for you easily. 

You started off by greeting him and making small talk the rest of the week. Your bright smiles and easy disposition made it easy for Jacob to warm up to you immediately.

It helped that you were just coming off as friendly and doing your job when Steve saw you talk to Jacob. He was just one of the other men you spoke to after your show. You didn't treat Jacob like you treated Steve, but to Jacob...this was more than he's ever gotten.

You make your way back to everyone to give them their drinks, Jacob trying to lure you into a longer conversation, but you cut him off gently, saying you need to get back to work with an apologetic smile. 

By the end of the night, you're exhausted, but you made a pretty decent amount of cash tonight. You know Steve's birthday will be coming up in a couple of months, and you've been lamenting over what to get him.

It had to be something personal and intimate, but not overly so because you didn't want to arouse questions from the people in Steve's life. 

"I'm done for the night!"

"Okay, make sure you get home safely!" Gwen and Jeff bid you goodbye. You change into your regular clothes, ready to call a cab.

You check your phone.

Steve: Done work? Stop ignoring me now ):

You exit through the backdoor and start to walk when you're suddenly pushed against the wall.

"What the—" You start to scream, but a hand presses over your mouth.

"Shh, it's just me," the voice urges you, and you adjust your eyes to the dark and see that it's Jacob.

"Jacob, what the hell do you think you're—" You start to say when he lifts his hand away from your mouth. 

"You just left so fast! I couldn't get a moment alone with you," Jacob cuts you off with a frown. He's so tall and lanky that he towers over you, but you want to gag because he smells like stale potato chips and beer.

"Jacob, this isn't—"

"I just want to ask you out on a date," Jacob holds you closer. "You feel it to right? This connection we have. That's why you're so nice and sweet to me. You remember what I tell you and my usual drink."

You push against his chest, grimacing. "Jacob, I'm just being friendly. It's part of my job. There isn't anything else about it. I talk to plenty of people there!"

Suddenly, Jacob pulls you forward before slamming you back against the brick wall. 

You hiss in pain.

"No, no, no, don't say that," Jacob grumbled. "I'm special. You treat me special."

"I haven't done anything out of the ordinary!" You shook your head, trying to push against his chest again. "Let me go!"

But Jacob only gets more aggressive as you deny and reject him. He's pressing you into the wall so tightly that the bricks begin to dig into your back.

"Stop!" You yell at him, struggling more fiercely before Jacob puts his hands over your mouth again, shoving his leg between yours while his other hand starts to tear at your clothes on the shoulder.

"You fucking bitch," Jacob hissed. "You were leading me on then!?"

"Stop!" Your cry is muffled under his hand. 

Just as he starts sucking on your neck, Jacob is knocked off of you in the next second. It happened so quickly as you slump against the wall, hands up to your shoulders as you try to tug on your ripped shirt to cover up. 

You look over on the ground to see that it's Steve in his leather jacket and slacks on top of Jacob, beating the daylights out of him. 

"Steve!" You call shakily, but Steve didn't even hear you.

"Steve!" You call again, this time stumbling forward and bravely grab onto Steve's thick bicep and pull. 

Your touch seems to pull the Avenger out of his blood-lust state as he allows you to pull him off and up. 

"Are you okay?" Steve asks immediately, cradling your face so gently as he inspects you over. He notices a little blood on your back, your ripped shirt, and a bruise forming on your neck. Steve sucks in a harsh breath, whipping his head back to glare at Jacob, who's moaning painfully on the ground. 

You let tears well up, hot and burning in the back of your eyes.

Steve takes a menacing step towards Jacob, but you hold onto him. You take a moment to wrap your arms tightly around Steve's torso underneath his leather jacket. 

You press your face against Steve's broad chest. "Steve, stop. It's not worth it," you tell him because it's not like you want him to kill Jacob. 

Steve seems conflicted, but since you're holding onto him so tightly, it's not like there's much he can do. Eventually, Steve huffs but wraps his arms carefully around you and holds you closer to him.

"I don't ever want you see you around here again. If I do, I'm making it official Avengers business to go after you," Steve threatens. It was just then the back doors opened again, and it was Jeff who stepped out for his smoke break.

"What the fu—" Jeff starts when he looks at the ground, a cigarette hanging in his mouth. Then he looks up and sees you and Steve standing there. "Oh, shit! Are you okay?" 

Jeff asks as he walks forward to grab onto Jacob, who's still groaning.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you say, but it's muffled in Steve's chest because you refuse to turn your face.

"You should go home and take care of yourself," Jeff says sympathetically as he grips Jacob harshly. "I'll make sure the cops pick up this guy and we'll blacklist him from here. There's security cameras out here, so you should be fine but I'll give them your number if needed."

"Thanks," you say muffled again, still clinging to Steve. 

Steve rubs your shoulders as he gives Jeff a half-smile before he leads you off. 

You can't hang onto his torso when he walks, but you're tucked into his side, vulnerably looking away until you reach his motorcycle. 

When you finally get there, Steve stands in front of you.

"Hey," he says softly, broad hands on your shoulder. But you don't look at him. Steve then cups your face and turns you until your eyes meet his. "You're safe now. I'm so, so sorry that happened to you."

More tears well up in your eyes, and your lips tremble as you look up at Steve through your wet lashes. 

"What do you need? What can I do for you, sweetheart?" Steve's asking desperately. 

Then, you're wrapping your arms around Steve again tightly, and your face pressed intimately against his chest. 

"I'm—I'm sorry. I just," your breath shudders. "I just need you to hold me. I'm sorry," you apologize. "Please just—just let me hug you for a moment."

You feel Steve's arms wrap around you, and you refrain from wincing at the tender rips on your back. 

It was worth it because Steve was watching you, just like you thought. He came for you.

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵

Steve couldn't stop breathing in your scent, holding you tightly to him. 

You've shared hugs with him before, but they were always brief. He could feel your soft curves melting into him, your body taking his heat and warming up to him. 

God, you felt so soft. 

You were clinging to him so tightly, so needily. Trembling in his arms, Steve wanted to go back and finish the job with that creep. 

But he stayed. He stayed because you obviously needed him. See? It was such a good thing that he was looking out for you. Terrible things could happen to you if Steve didn't watch you all the time.  

Clearly, you had no one else to look after you, so Steve needed to do that.

You were so pretty today, like always. He watched you across the room at the casino as you took orders and made small talk with the customers. 

That Jacob guy had given Steve strange feelings before, but he never thought he'd attack you just for speaking to him! What an absolute fool! Of course, he wasn't special to you. The only person you truly treated special was Steve.  

Steve could feel himself hardening the longer you held onto him, your smell invading his senses. You fit him too perfectly. He nearly groaned when he thought about how he'd fit inside you.

"Sweetheart," Steve hoarsely called you. "I promise you you're safe now, and I can hold you longer later if you need, but we need to get you fixed up. I can see blood on the back of your shirt."

Steve watched as you reluctantly pulled back, your eyes rimmed red with tears and swollen bottom lip from biting on it too much. You looked so fucking lovely.

"I'm sorry," you apologize softly again, cheeks flushed as if you just realized how long you've been clinging to Steve.

"Don't be sorry for that. Ever." Steve cups your cheeks and wipes your tears. You don't say anything, just bashfully looking to the side.

"I...I should get home," you tell him as you distanced yourself. 

"Let me take care of you first," Steve insists. "I can take you to the hospital to take a look at your back. Or I can take you home and bandage you up."

"I don't want to go to the hospital," you shook your head. 

"Do you want me to take you home?" Steve asks as he strokes your shoulders.

You shook your head. "It's fine, Steve. I...my stepdad is pretty strict. He doesn't like when I bring people over unannounced."

Steve frowned but nodded. "Okay," Steve acquiesced. "But you still need someone to help you with your back because you can't reach it on your own."

"Steve, I—"

"I'm serious," Steve pushes. "You can come back to my place a for a little."

But then you look uncomfortable, and Steve doesn't like it. Why were you uncomfortable now? It wasn't like you hadn't been there before alone with him.

"Sharon is there, though, isn't she?" You nervously bite on your bottom lip. "I don't—want her to see me like this. I haven't even met her before yet."

Steve licks his lips, charmed by the way you can't seem to stop seeking his comfort. Like right now, you're gripping the end of his shirt between your fingers lightly while looking down. 

"I can take you somewhere else," Steve finally offers. "It's not completely empty but at least we'll have some privacy."

You look up at him curiously.

"I still have my room in the Avengers Compound," Steve smiles before he straightens and grabs his helmet. He places his over your head gently and makes sure it fits perfectly.

He doesn't give you much of a chance to answer if you want to go as he sits on his motorcycle, looking back at you expectantly. 

You climb on behind him, gently wrapping your arms around him again.

"Better hold on tight, sweetheart."

PART IV

#dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #dark steve rogers imagine #dark steve rogers fanfiction #dark!steve x reader #dark!steve rogers fanfiction #dark!reader #dark reader #dark fic #s.myfics #series.whoweare

[sincerelythedarkside]

Who We Are || Part IV

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers x Dark!Reader

Summary: You know what you want out of life. You want to be loved—to be safe. You want to be taken care of and to take care of someone who will appreciate it. But you’ve been shackled, trapped in a never-ending nightmare. And your only saving grace will be enticing the dark side of America’s golden hero to want you—a game of who’s manipulating who.

SERIES WARNINGS: 18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI. Dubcon sex, noncon/rape, somnophilia, manipulative behaviour, possessive behaviour, dark themes. Do NOT read if these are triggering for you.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: kidadultnapping.

[Set after Civil War & the Accords were abolished]

Note: I'm h word for these two. Things are ✨happening✨

PART I || PART II || PART III

Count: ~3.2k

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵

The night was breezy, chillier since you were zipping through the streets on the back of Steve's motorcycle. Before leaving, Steve took off his leather jacket to let you wear it.

Even without his jacket, he was warm, and you wonder if it was because of the serum.

So many thoughts were running through your head, but mostly what should you do now.

Steve would take you to the Avengers Compound, and then what? He would help clean your cuts. You needed to use the time wisely.

You wondered if you should stay the night. It was quite late after all. But you supposed it depended on many factors and all of them revolving around Steve.

What if you bumped into another Avenger?

Should you ask him why he was at your work at this hour?

You had so many questions for yourself and no answers. It wasn't long until Steve pulled into a long driveway and parked his bike. He gets off first before he helps you, taking off the helmet gently.

Patting down your hair, he looked into the Compound.

"I don't think there's too many people up right now," Steve said as he helped you off the bike.

When you walked into the facility, you noticed someone sitting at the front desk right away.

"Cap'n," the person greeted. "Surprised to see you here."

"Hey, Happy," Steve greeted. "Just here to help a friend 'cause she's all banged up. We probably won't be too long. Anyone still up?"

"Tony's always up. Bucky's up, too, I think," Happy shrugged. "Want me to buzz them?"

Steve shook his head. "Nah, I'm sure we'll bump into them," he smiled charmingly, and Happy waved the two of you off.

Despite Steve's words, he walked you briskly into the elevators.

"Take me to my room please, FRIDAY," Steve requested, and you tried not to jump when something responded.

Steve grabbed your hand, and you turned your head to look at him. He seemed to be taking in your appearance, like the way you looked in his leather jacket.

"How are you feeling?" He asked.

"I don't know," you answered honestly. "Nervous, I guess. In case we bump into someone."

"You don't want to meet the rest of the team?" He asks with a head tilt and a slight frown.

"Not like this," you shook your head.

"They wouldn't judge, you know," Steve gives you a light smile. "Bucky is my best friend."

You nod and squeeze his hand. "I'm more nervous they won't like me," you half-lie.

Them not liking you would make it that much harder for you.

"How could they not?" Steve shook his head. "You're the sweetest person ever."

You demurely turn your head away, cheeks blushing for Steve to see. The elevator stopped, and Steve pulled your hand to lead you out of it, walking down the dark hallway. It wasn't long before he stopped, reaching his room. His door is locked by a padlock that he enters a code into to open.

You're pretty relieved that you hadn't bumped into anyone tonight as you walked in. The room is cool, seemingly having the AC on at all times. You look around, noting the king-sized bed with simple blue and white bed sheets. The walls are notably decorated with meaningless art, most likely provided by Stark.

Walking around by yourself, you try to see if there's anything else. A few forgotten sketches are on his desk, but you're sure any personal things have been moved to his new apartment with Sharon.

Either way, this room still felt like Steve.

Simple and clean.

"I'm pretty sure I have a first aid kit somewhere in here," Steve grips his chin in thought. "Do you want to take a quick shower?"

You turn to him and nod with a tired smile.

"I'll get you some clothes you can borrow. Hold on," Steve tells you as he opens his closet, pleased with himself that he had left some things behind.

"Have you eaten anything?" Steve asked, and you shook your head.

"I'm not really hungry..." You purse your lips.

"I'll get you some water then," Steve sympathetically offers.

While he leaves, you walk into the washroom and shut the door. Taking off all your clothes, you hop into the shower, turning the water on to a decent temperature where it wouldn't hurt your cuts.

It's a quick shower with just rinsing since you can't stay in there too long with your cuts and can't get any soap into. You take the most time trying to detangle your wet hair because Steve's the kind of man who uses two-in-one shampoo, and you're not that desperate to use it.

When you get out of the shower, you wipe down the light fog from the mirror and stare at yourself. You're wet, and when you gnaw enough on your bottom lip to make it swell, you look innocent and tempting.

There had been a reason you chose tonight.

Henry was out of town on some business trip and wouldn't be back until late tomorrow. Steve didn't seem to know since when you made the comment of not bringing him over because your stepdad didn't like unannounced guests over, he didn't bat an eye.

You towel dry your hair the best you can before you brush it out, leaving it to air dry. Putting on the soft, silk dress shirt Steve gave you on backwards to leave your back exposed, you moved your hair to your front to avoid touching the cuts. It stung a lot more now that it was clean and out in the open for the air to brush against it.

You look at yourself once more in the mirror before you turn and open the door.

Steve was sitting on his bed, a glass of water on his night table and his first aid kit splayed out on his bedsheets. He turned to you, breath hitching when he saw you in his shirt, but realizing you didn't bother to put the shorts on since the shirt was big enough to hang low to your mid-thighs.

"Shower, okay?" Steve asked, his voice slightly husky.

You pull the shirt up slightly, but with the way you're wearing it, it droops down, exposing your bare shoulders.

Nodding, you tentatively take a step towards Steve and sit next to him on the edge of his bed before turning your naked back to him.

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵

Steve licks his lips.

You're so trusting of him, sitting there nearly naked. His shirt is the only thing that's covering your modesty at the front. Your underwear nearly makes Steve feral.

It's lacy and white, and he can see part of your asscheeks when you sit.

But all of it falls second when he sees the tiny cuts and scrapes on your back. He's glad they're not serious, and all of them were small.

"Does it hurt?" Steve asks as he gently touches it.

He feels you flinch.

"Sorry," Steve mumbles as he pulls his fingers back and starts ruffling through the contents he spilt out over his bed.

"S'okay," you mumble back.

Steve starts to apply a healing cream, his jaw clenching when you let out a soft whimper.

This was a bad idea, Steve thought. There was no Sharon to keep him good, no one to interrupt him. He was starting to think about what it would feel like to start kissing your neck, place his large hands on your sides, caressing the naked skin there before moving to your front and up.

What would it feel like to cup your breast and press you against him? You'd probably make those same soft whimpers you were making right now, wouldn't you?

But he remained still, taking care of you diligently as he bandaged you up.

"There," Steve says as he puts everything away and sets his first aid kit on the ground. He turns back to see you sitting in the same spot before you rearrange his shirt to wear it properly and button yourself up.

You turn around, and Steve gets a good view of the dip of your chest since you didn't button it all the way up. Your hair is still damp, and you look so soft.

"Thank you, Steve," you lick your lips as the tip of your tongue pulls your bottom lip into your mouth.

They hadn't bothered to turn on the light, letting the moon illuminate the room as you lean forward.

Steve thinks you're about to kiss him for a split second before your forehead drops against his broad shoulder. He blinks before he wraps his arms around you, pulling you against his chest.

"Are you still scared?" Steve asks as he strokes your arm gently.

"...No," you mumble as you turn your head and your forehead pressed against his neck.

You're so...warm. And pliant in his arms. You were in the space between his legs, and Steve wanted to keep you.

"I'd never let anyone hurt you, you know that, right, sweetheart?" Steve lifted his hand and stroked your head, feeling your content sigh.

"I know," you mumble. "But it's not like you can watch me all the time. I was really lucky you were there last night."

Then, you pull back and look up at him. "What were you doing there anyway? It was pretty late."

Steve momentarily is alarmed at the question, but the lie comes out easily. "I sometimes take late-night drives on my motorcycle if I can't sleep. I thought since I was out, I'd come to pick you up after your shift and surprise you. Maybe make up for calling your cocktails terrible," he teases.

He watches you tilt your head, dread filling him you'd found him out—that he was watching you when he could, that he was obsessed with you. You'd pull back and reject him.

But you merely tilted your head with a lopsided smile, lifting your hand to brush at his brow again.

"You're so silly," you quietly say. "Thanks for coming."

And something just breaks inside of Steve, and he's surging forward to capture your lips, swallowing your gasp.

You taste good, just like he always imagined. Steve's pushing forward until you fall on your back against the bed, and he can cover you with his own large body. Soft and warm. Delicate and perfect.

You feel just right underneath him, the way he wriggles and settles flawlessly between your legs. He's hard when he hears you moan between his kisses, gripping at his shoulders.

It was making sense now. It all made sense.

You were made for him. You're his doll, his perfect girl.

And he was made for you, has been waiting for you. Peggy, Sharon—they were just passing interests. They could never compare to what you were—could be to him.

Steve grinds his erection against the gusset of your panties—against you.

"Ohh," you groan low, trembling against him.

Steve grinds his hips into you over and over, starting to feel you soak your panties.

Gentle, Steve tells himself. He needs to be gentle because you've been hurt, and he needs to make you feel good. Steve needs to make you understand that he can make you feel good.

Steve wants you to belong to him.

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵

For a moment, you're swept up in all that is Steve Rogers.

You knew the kiss was coming. How could it not? His hand was slightly trembling when he touched you. You were looking up at him through your lashes and in his arms.

But still, you had been unprepared to taste the mintiness of Steve. To smell in detail of the fresh grass and laundry that he smelled like.

He was warm and heavy on top of you, and when he ground onto you—horror swept through as you felt something you haven't felt in a long time.

True and pure arousal.

You had actually wanted him.

But you hadn't—it had been so long since—you couldn't.

"Stop," you break the kiss and pull back, pushing against Steve's chest.

It takes a few more kisses until Steve lets you push him away.

"What?" Steve asks as he blinks back to reality. "What's wrong?"

You push him off of you until you can sit up, breathless and flushed.

"We can't," you shake your head, pulling up his shirt that was slipping from your shoulder.

"Why?" Steve frowned, grabbing your hand. "You...you liked it, didn't you?"

"That's not the point, Steve," you pull your hand back. "I—It's wrong. You're dating Sharon and I..." You trail.

"I can leave Sharon," Steve promises you. "Sweetheart, I like you so much. I've never felt this way about anyone."

You shake your head.

"No, Steve, you can't just leave her," you sighed. "It'll never work out between us anyway."

You start to get up, trying to find your pants, when Steve gets up and grabs your hand again.

"How can you say that?" Steve frowns. "We haven't even tried."

"I don't have to try," you throw back at Steve, turning to him with wet eyes.

Steve is shocked to see the tears well up in your eyes but never fall.

"Sweetheart," Steve said softly, pulling you closer, cupping your face and then the tears started to fall. "Tell me what's wrong. I can't fix it if you don't tell me what's wrong."

You try to turn away, but his hands hold your face, wiping the tears away.

"You can't fix it, Steve."

Steve's heart feels like it's breaking.

"I'm Captain America," he tells you. He used to always hate it, using his persona like that. But being Captain America fixed so many of his problems. "There's nothing Captain America can't fix."

You lift your hands to grasp his and pull them off of you.

"Captain America can't fix this problem, Steve," you vaguely say before you turn back to him. "Just take me home."

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵

Steve turns off his motorbike, and you get off without his help.

"Goodnight, Steve," you tell him softly as you start to walk off, but Steve grabs your hand again before you can walk away from him.

"This won't change us, will it?" Steve asked with a frown, hope in his chest.

You shake your head, squeezing his hand. "Of course not, Steve. You're my friend and you're important to me. Nothing can change that..."

"But...?" Steve senses the word at the end of what you said.

"But we won't work," you tell him with a sad smile. "Sharon is a really lucky girl."

With one last squeeze, you let go of his hand and make your way through the gates and into your house, greeting the dogs along the way.

Steve watches you leave, a hard tick in his jaw.

No, no, no. This isn't how it was supposed to be.

You want to be with him—Steve could tell. You liked him. You liked the kissing and the grinding and being in his clothes.

So how could you be saying that it wouldn't work? That Captain America couldn't solve your problems?

The only thing that could make sense was that you were hiding something. Something that was keeping you from him.

It wasn't about lack of chemistry.

It wasn't about Sharon.

It was something else.

And Steve was determined to find out whatever it was.

And get rid of it.

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵

Friday comes easily.

You're sitting at some high-end restaurant for lunch.

It's a date.

With some guy Steve's never seen before.

Oh, sweetheart, Steve thinks as he stares at you six tables away. 'Was this what you meant when you said it would never work? Because of this nobody?

You couldn't have liked him; there was no way. You were barely smiling as he spoke to you. You didn't react when he brushed his hand against yours on the table.

Steve adjusts his earpiece, the one that allowed him to listen clearly in on your conversation with a bug he planted at your table.

"How's the food?" Blake asks.

"It's good," you say quietly.

"Thank you so much for coming to meet me for lunch today. It's hard to meet up when our schedules are so different, huh?" Blake says, seemingly harmless, but Steve scoffs.

How backhanded.

"I suppose," was all you had to offer.

"Have you ever thought about quitting your nighttime job? It can't be all you've got planned, is it?" Blake asks, and Steve can hear your fork scrape across your plate harshly.

"I currently like what I do," you say calmly, and Steve can see you stare at Blake subtly challengingly. "Henry is supportive of it."

Steve frowns. Henry? Your stepdad?

"Right, right," Blake says placatingly. "It's not a problem. We can just have lunch dates. It doesn't really matter."

Sweetheart, Steve almost groans. This guy is a total chump. There's no way you could see anything in him. Why was this man keeping you away from him?

Steve doesn't like any of this. You look uncomfortable, just begging him to save you again. You give him smiles, but they're nothing like the ones you give Steve.

Wrong. It's all wrong, Steve thinks.

Steve wants you to be patient. He can fix this.

Picking up his phone. He dials before he presses it against his ear.

"Hey, Buck, listen. Could you do me a favour?"

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵

Just as quick as Friday came, it was starting to go.

The night breeze is cool, and the streets are emptying out.

Steve's almost surprised and impressed with how late Blake works.

Must be a hardworking fellow.

But when Steve sees Blake walking out the front door with some secretary, he's no longer impressed.

Oh, you really had no idea how horrible this man was, didn't you? You were so lucky to have Steve. This man clearly could never make you happy.

Blake seems to be trying to convince the secretary to go home with him but the woman giggles as she shakes her head, insisting she needs to go home since she has an early day tomorrow and all.

With that, Blake pouts but lets her go with a chuckle. He bids her goodnight with a kiss on her cheek before hopping into his waiting cab.

"To Greepoint," Blake directs as he puts on his seatbelt.

"Yes, sir."

The drive is quiet, and Blake stays on his cellphone, texting multiple people and his Facebook feed.

It isn't until the driver takes a turn that Blake looks up.

"Hey, you turned the wrong way. Greenpoint is the other way," he says with an annoyed voice.

"Oh, I know," the driver says from the front.

"Then why are you going this way?" Blake rolls his eyes. "Having that slow of a night you need to run your meter? Let me tell you now, pal, you ain't getting any tip."

The driver with a cap turns around with a tiny gun, smiling before he presses the trigger.

Blake feels a needle prick his neck, and his hand goes to it immediately.

"What the hell—" Blake starts to say before his words slur and everything begins to mesh together. Darkness hits almost instantly.

Steve sighs as he watches Blake slump in his seat, his seatbelt preventing him from falling over.

"It was a slow night, you're right about that, Blake. But I think you'll still be giving me a tip—at least about what I want to know."

PART V

#dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark!steve x reader #dark steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfiction #dark steve rogers fanfiction #dark steve rogers imagine #dark!reader #dark fic #s.myfics #series.whoweare

[sincerelythedarkside]

Who We Are || Part V

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers x Dark!Reader

Summary: You know what you want out of life. You want to be loved—to be safe. You want to be taken care of and to take care of someone who will appreciate it. But you’ve been shackled, trapped in a never-ending nightmare. And your only saving grace will be enticing the dark side of America’s golden hero to want you—a game of who’s manipulating who.

SERIES WARNINGS: 18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI. Dubcon sex, noncon/rape, somnophilia, manipulative behaviour, possessive behaviour, dark themes. Do NOT read if these are triggering for you.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: None

[Set after Civil War & the Accords were abolished]

Note: The modern world is lost on Steve Rogers LOL

PART I || PART II || PART III || PART IV

Count: ~3.6k

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵

The room felt damp and slightly cold.

"Oh, god," Blake groaned as he opened his eyes, hissing at his mild headache. He sat up, pressing his palm into his eye to relieve the pressure.

Looking around, his heart started to race. He was in a cell, kept in by glass rather than bars. There was a bed in the corner, a toilet, and a sink. Barren, otherwise. It was unnerving looking at the completely white walls.

He checks his pockets, but this phone and wallet are gone.

"Hello?" Blake called out wearily. "Is somebody there? I—I think there's been some kind of mistake."

"There's been no mistake, Blake Henley," the voice said, deep and calm. "You're meant to be here."

"Please," Blake pleaded, standing up and coming up to the glass, trying to peer out. It was dark, the only light coming from the fluorescent bulbs in his room. "I haven't done anything! Who are you? Let me out!" Blake bangs on the glass. It hardly even vibrates. It must be some kind of reinforced glass.

Blake sees something in the back, hiding in the shadows. He squints as the figure steps forward, recognizing the familiar boots and pants before—

Blake swallows hard as he comes face to face with his captor.

"Why are you doing this?" Blake asks because it's clear he's not going to be rescued. "Why has Captain America kidnapped me?"

Steve stares through the glass, eyes blank and lips pressed in a thin line.

"I don't think you're in a position to ask any questions, Blake. Let's behave and see where that gets you."

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵

Blake is missing.

But no one suspects anything but you. Your father had said something about Blake calling in for an emergency. His mother apparently had a bad fall down the stairs, and Blake needed to fly to Washington to take care of her for a couple of weeks.

It was a plausible emergency. Blake had spoken about his ill mother who lived in Washington at one of the weekly dinners.

But you knew he was missing. Anyone who used social media would know. Facebook was quiet since Blake was more a lurker than someone who actively posted.

Snapchat, however, was Blake's go-to social media app. And they had recently launched a new feature called Snap Map.

And when you checked Blake's location...he was outside the city limits.

Another thing that threw you off was Blake's latest text to you.

Blake: I'm sure Henry has told you I will be out of town for a while. I'll probably be MIA for a while. Sorry to cancel our plans next week, but I'll make it up to you.

It was thoughtful and straightforward. Something Blake would really say.

But only in front of others. Only if it's beneficial to his ruse.

Blake was the type to like her photos or leave comments on Instagram and Facebook. He was the type to show up to her house with flowers knowing other people were home. He'd talk to her friends or family about what he could do for a date with you.

He would never text you privately something caring—because there was no need to. Blake knows his role in Henry's grand scheme.

You weren't really sure what to make of his text, but you still texted back, trying to see what his reaction would be.

You: No worries. Sorry to hear about your mom. I hope she gets better.

The only thing you could think of was Steve. You couldn't say for sure, but it was just a feeling in your gut. And you were going to test that theory the next time you saw him.

You pulled out your phone, rechecking Blake's location. He hadn't moved in a week. You hum as you begin to dial.

There was an answer after the first ring.

"Hey," Steve sounded breathless.

"Hi," you answered shyly.

"What's up?" Steve asked, and you could picture him running his hand through his hair.

"I was wondering if you were free to have lunch with me today," you ask, sounding demure and unsure.

"Yeah, of course," Steve agreed. "I'm just finishing some work up now but why don't you text me what you're in the mood for and I'll meet you there?"

"Okay," you add a tint of happiness to your tone. "I'll text you."

"See you later, sweetheart."

You hang up, feeling perplexed by Steve's insistent use of the pet name for you. It seemed that once he started, he couldn't stop. You didn't mind, though. It was just another piece of evidence of how Steve wanted you.

It was still rather early, so you went into the kitchen and saw your mom sitting there with a glass of wine.

"Hey, mom," you greeted her with a kiss at the temple.

She was startled as she looked up at you. "Oh, hey, honey. I didn't realize you were still home."

"Just for a little bit. I'll be heading out for lunch soon. It's a bit early for wine, isn't it?" You cock your brow at her.

Your mom merely chuckled and shook her head. "It's not early if you didn't sleep."

"Sleeping problems again?" You asked, thinking about why that must've been why Henry didn't come to your room last night. "You should really see a doctor about that."

Your mum nods a little tiredly but gives you a smile. "I think it's just too much energy. Maybe I should walk around the block a couple of times."

You hum, still concerned but dropping it since your mother didn't seem to want to speak about it anymore. You make yourself some coffee before going back up to your room.

It was probably still too soon, but you began to plan what to get Steve for his birthday in the next month. Getting something expensive for someone like Steve would be meaningless. You knew he'd appreciate it and treasure it since it came from you, but it would hold no meaning. He was a man who probably didn't have any problems getting what he wanted material-wise (provided he wasn't a fugitive).

So, you needed to get him things that would be more sentimental, something memorable.

You smile as you start to write down a few ideas and people to call.

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵

Steve smiles down at his phone.

You've been so shy with him lately. Bashful but not pulling away and Steve couldn't help but indulge in it.

He's starting to find it harder to pay attention to Sharon or sleep with her when all he can think about is you. Steve hasn't broken up with Sharon yet. He's still thinking of how to do that. He doesn't want to hurt Sharon...

A movement from the corner of his eye catches his attention, and he looks up at the monitor in front of him. It was Blake, starting to pace back and forth again.

It had been a week since he captured Blake, but he wasn't anywhere closer to getting his answers. He just wanted to understand why you had chosen someone like Blake. He was so...bland, and whatever you shared with him was so empty.

Steve got that from rifling through Blake's phone. He's checked your texts and any social media app interactions. There wasn't anything privately spoken. Your texts with him really only spoke to arranging dates and when he was coming to your home for dinner with Henry.

Blake only seemed crazy for you publicly. Always liking and commenting on your photos or always posting to your wall. So superficial, Steve can't understand it.

So far, Steve hasn't gotten any useful information out of Blake. The young man didn't seem to know why Captain America had captured him and only kept spouting off that he could give Steve money if that's what he was looking for. The only other thing was Blake continuously saying that Steve must have the wrong person because the only thing Blake buys illegally is weed, and if Steve wanted his dealer's information, he'd be happy to give that as well.

But that wasn't what Steve wanted. He wanted to know why you had agreed to go out with someone like Blake. He wanted to know why you kept saying it wouldn't work with him.

"Please...please! Just let me out, I won't tell anyone..." Blake wails, and Steve sighs before checking the time.

He should probably leave now if he wanted to meet up with you on time.

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵

Steve sees you first before you see him, and he takes a moment to take you in. You look absolutely gorgeous in your sundress as you search around for him. His chest expands almost painfully when you spot him, smiling wide as you walk towards him.

Standing up, Steve greets you with a kiss on your cheek and a hug, his fingers stroking your shoulder blades. He lingers a moment too long when he feels you shiver in his arms from his touches.

"Hey, sweetheart," Steve pulls back with a smile as he opens a chair for you to sit down. "I got us a patio table, hope that's okay?"

"It's perfect, Steve," you sit down, thanking him with a smile as he sits back in his own chair. "Was work okay? I hope I wasn't interrupting anything."

Steve shook his head. "Nah, you weren't. But speaking of work, Tony's birthday is going to be in a week and I was wondering if you'd come?"

You looked surprised before shyly pinching at your earlobe. "You want me to come?"

Steve nodded. "Yeah," he smiled. "I think it'd be great for you to meet the team. It's been a while since the last of us have been really together since that night at the casino. Wanda and Vision will be visiting for Stark's birthday too."

"It sounds like it'll be a big event," you smile.

Steve nodded. "Knowing Stark? Yeah, it'll be. It'll be good for all of us. Things have been tense since the Accords even though they've been abolished."

You nod understandingly as you reach across the table and place your hand atop Steve's comfortingly. He smiles at you before he turns his hand over to hold yours.

You let the heat flood your cheeks as you give one last reassuring squeeze before letting go. Steve looks at you amusedly.

"Yeah, I mean, if you think it's okay that I come, I would love to," you clear your throat before saying.

"It's more than okay," Steve says as the waitress comes by to grab your orders. "Did you want me to come pick you up? Sharon said she had to be there early."

You tilt your head with a smirk. "That would be lovely...but I don't think riding on a motorcycle while in a dress will be good for me."

Steve lets out a laugh. "I'll be picking you up in a cab, there's no worry."

"In that case, I would be happy if you accompanied me," you teased.

Steve smiles as the rest of the lunch is smooth. He takes the time to sit there, listening to you chat and feels warm. You just talk so...easily. It makes Steve feel at ease because he's not scrambling to come up with topics to talk about.

Being in the modern world, Steve had always felt so displaced. It felt like he was constantly trying to keep up with topics. It was nice that you talked about many things, and if it was things Steve didn't know, he didn't feel weird about asking you more about it.

By the end of the lunch, you had moved your chair closer to his so you could show Steve the puppies one of your coworkers had gotten and chatted about whether dogs were something Steve or you had ever thought about getting.

It was then you had some notification come in from an icon Steve recognized. Yellow with a white ghost outline. He'd seen it on Blake's phone as he rifled through it. It didn't seem like anything but some kind of photo-taking application, but Blake did get plenty of notifications from it. Steve hadn't touched it since he was unsure of the purpose.

"What's that?" Steve asked.

"Hm?" You hummed as Steve pointed at the notification before it went away. "Oh, Snapchat? It's like a picture sending social media app. You can send people photos or videos back and forth but the other person can only view it once—or twice if they're quick enough to replay it. Once the photo or video runs out of time for viewing or you click out of it, that's it."

Steve frowned. "I don't understand. Why would you only want to be able to see a photo or video once?"

You smile at the innocence of Steve. It was amusing to see something dark lurking just beneath the surface but also have moments like these.

"Well," you giggle. "It does have many uses. Like maybe someone is sending another person a...risqué photo or video and doesn't want the other party to be able to keep it. Snapchat notifies the sender if the photo or video is screenshotted or recorded."

Steve blushed. "So...it's that kind of app?" He frowned at the thought of you using it. Were you sending Blake risqué photos and videos?

You laughed and shrugged. "It could be used like that. Generally, I think most people just use it to send photos of any kind. Their lunch, where they are, who they're with, really anything. It's popular because, in this day and age, everyone loves taking photos but not all photos need to be permanently documented."

Steve merely stared at you, and you chuckled some more.

"It's like...here, think about it like this," you say. "You like drawing, right?"

Steve nodded.

"So, do you think everything you draw should be hung up in an art gallery? Or do you have some photos that are just meant to be in your sketchbook? Maybe you show a couple of people, but there's also a chance you might throw it away after too?" You tilt your head.

The way you say it just dawns on Steve, and he nods understandingly, feeling warm as he smiles at you.

You grin back at him before you open the Snap in front of him. It was one of your friends sending you a photo of their lunch with a caption and stickers.

"Do you mind if we take a picture together?" You ask Steve with an unsure smile. "It won't circulate anywhere but it might be fun."

Steve nods quickly, and you beam at him as you lean in closer to him, holding your phone up. He's got a boyish grin while you have a peace sign up as your head is tilted towards him.

It's a great photo, showing the sunny day with a playful tone. Steve likes it because it's a memory captured of you so close to him.

"Is there a way to save the photos you take?" He asks, and you nod.

"Could you save it and send it to me?"

You turn your head to look at him, cheeks warm as you give him a nod with a tiny smile.

You send off the photo to your friend, immediately getting a chat message about what a lucky bitch you are.

"Oh!" You say as you slid your phone closer to Steve to see. "There's one more feature I forgot to tell you."

Steve watches as a map shows up on your screen with some kind of cartoonish people standing in New York and other places. Yours seemed overcrowded.

"Snapchat also has a map feature that shows other people you have added where they are if their location services are turned on. See? This is me and it shows where we are."

Steve felt his stomach drop as he stared at your phone.

Blake must've had this feature on for his phone.

The only saving grace was that the map automatically was zoomed into the general area you were in. But if you zoomed out, you'd undoubtedly notice that Blake was still actually in the state.

You and any one of Blake's friends.

That bastard.

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵

Blake woke up startled.

He sat up immediately, seeing a brown bag he assumed food was in. He looked up and saw Captain America standing right outside on the other side of the glass.

Blake dug into the brown bag and ate the burger and fries in there before looking at the hero.

"Please...please, just tell me why I'm here. What have I done? If I've done something, I still have rights to a lawyer!"

Steve ignored the repetitive cries of the stuck up man before him. He merely pulled out Blake's form, waving it with the Snapchat app open.

"This is about mutual trust, Blake. How can I talk to you if I don't trust you? You must've been relying on your friends to notice you were still in New York instead of helping your poor mother in Washington," Steve sighed. "I had to open your 'Snaps'—that's what they're called, right? I don't think I'll ever understand this age where people feel the need to send pictures of their food, drinks, or whatever catches their eye. It's easy enough to imitate, though."

Blake's face crumpled as he realized Steve had turned off his location services and had kept up pretences with his friends.

"No...please, I'm sorry. I—I didn't realize. Those kinds of things just slipped my mind."

Steve hummed on the other side.

"I'll take your word for it because trust is supposed to be mutual, isn't it?" Steve said with a smile, and Blake nodded.

"There is a reason why you're here," Steve admits. "We're currently investigating someone. I can't share the details with you, obviously. But it doesn't look too good. Our intel came up that you're a close contact—dating."

Blake swallowed, and Steve watched the man's eyes dart back and forth, obviously trying to think which girl he was seeing could've done something so bad that the Avengers were looking into her.

Steve pulled out your photo, blown up professionally on an 8.5 by 11 paper, as he pressed it against the glass for Blake to see.

"Familiar?"

Blake's mouth stuttered, opening and closing as he stared at your picture.

"I mean, yes, but I don't know her that well!" Blake automatically admitted.

"Don't know her that well?" Steve cocked his brow. "You have dinner at her house every week. You've gone on dates, haven't you?"

"I eat with her family and I went out on one date with her!" Blake emphasized. "I don't know anything about her and I'm not supposed to."

Steve's eyes narrowed in at Blake's words. "Supposed to?"

Blake's eyes widened as he realized what he said, looking momentarily scared before remembering the situation he was in. If he didn't spill the truth to Captain America, he was going to be stuck here. Blake didn't need to be smart to know what the Avengers were capable of.

"It's an arranged marriage," Blake quickly confesses. "Set up by her stepdad. I thought the entire thing was old-fashion but he's my boss and the man was guaranteeing my whole future if I just married his step-daughter."

"Why does he want to marry her off?" Steve cocked his brow. It wasn't like you had a shortage of options. Arranged marriages nowadays, especially in New York, seemed outdated. You weren't from a prestigious family, nor were you royalty. Why?

"I don't know," Blake answered, and Steve stared at him. "Seriously, I don't know!"

Blake sighed stressfully. "All Henry told me was that if I wanted to secure my future, then I needed to marry his daughter. Henry was very explicit that I treat his daughter's boundaries 'respectfully', but he understood that I'm a young male that has needs. The marriage is strictly business and it was clear I could see other people but I needed to be discreet and keep up pretences."

Steve scrunched his nose and curled his lip in disgust. "So, you just string her along while seeing other people because she won't have sex with you?"

Blake rolled his eyes. "I think you're getting the wrong idea, pal. It's not like she's unaware of the circumstances. She's got a strict stepdaddy and she does what he tells her to do. We're both playing nice with each other. I highly doubt she feels anything for me except tolerance and maybe acceptance."

Steve stands there, taking in the information. If that was the case, why wouldn't you see Steve just like Blake was seeing other women?

This was a problem Captain America could fix.

Was Blake the best option your stepdad could come up with? Surely, he would find America's golden hero a much better option. Steve would dote on you, love you, cherish you. Bedroom activities, frankly, was none of your stepdad's business, but Steve wasn't above lying and saying nothing was happening.

So, why?

"So, if you actually want someone who knows something, maybe you should check with Henry." Blake's voice drew Steve out of his thoughts. "Although I wouldn't recommend kidnapping him as he is a notable person," Blake said sarcastically.

Steve didn't react to the tone as he turned to leave.

"No, wait!" Blake yelled. "I told you everything I know! I'm not close with her! Aren't you going to let me out? I swear I won't tell anyone!"

Steve turned back, quirking his eyebrow at the man. "As I said, Blake. There has to be mutual trust. So, I need to verify your information...and I need reassurance about your silence. Behave and we can talk about it after I check out your story."

Steve turned back and kept walking, ignoring Blake's echoing bellows.

PART VI

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