#soft!dark steve rogers x reader

[biteofcherry]

A little slice of something sweet&spicy for @alexakeyloveloki on her bithday! 🍰🎉💗

A follow-up to Cherry

soft!dark enforcer Steve Rogers x female reader

warnings: soft!dark Steve; hints of power imbalance; hint of innocence/corruption kink; hint of breeding kink; explicit se*ual situations;

You swallowed nervously as you walked up to the door of an expensive-looking house in the hills. The gate was wide open, two dark cars parked in the driveway. There was no sign of Steve's camaro, but maybe it was hidden in the huge garage in the separate building you passed.

The house looked like a renovated mid-century style and though you couldn't see it, you suspected there was a big swimming pool in the backyard.

The thought of which instantly created an image of Steve emerging from it - water dripping down his sculpted body, shimmering on the colorful ink of his tattoos.

You still haven't seen them, only the glimpse of those stretching up to his wrists and over his neck.

Jesus, you closed your eyes, once again feeling a wave of shame wash over you.

You met Steve two days ago. He was a complete stranger, with an aura of darkness that should make you run away.

Instead, you flew to him like a moth to a flame.

You allowed him to consume you the very first time you met him; hell, you were still trembling at the memory of the way he fucked you in his car, then right outside your apartment.

It could be just an adventure. A crazy one time thing you can brag about to your friends, for once having something really spicy to talk of.

But you kept the little piece of paper with Steve's address and dolled yourself up to meet him on the day he asked you.

Though the voice of reason yelled at you to at least have some doubts, you didn't hesitate for a single second as you put on a cute summer dress, a pair of bow sandals, and pink panties that already had a little wet spot, because you couldn't help thinking about what Steve was going to do to you on your date.

Nothing happened for a long moment after you rang the doorbell, your nervousness heightening in fear of being ignored. But then the door opened and you lifted up your gaze to look at a tall, bulky blonde man in what could be only described as surfer's style attire.

His long, wavy hair matched that vibe as well.

"Well, hello there." He grinned. "Whatever you're selling, I'm buying two of it."

A small laugh escaped your lips, which seemed to make the huge hunk's smile widen.

"I'm- um, I'm supposed to meet Steve," you explained, clenching your fingers tighter around your purse.

"Ah, the five o'clock meeting he wouldn't disclose the details of. Come on in." The guy moved aside to let you pass. "He's finishing a previous meeting, but I'm sure he'll be happy to know you're already waiting."

He led you through the sunny house to an ajar door, through which you could hear scraps of conversation.

Steve's voice you recognized right away.

He spoke firmer than when he was talking to you, giving clipped commands and harsh critique. You'd never want him to use that tone with you.

"Your next meeting is here." Surfer guy simply walked inside the office.

He moved to take a seat in one of the chairs, while you stood there in the open door like a deer caught in headlights.

You felt like that, too.

Because the moment you stepped in the doorway of the office, your eyes landed right on Steve.

He was sitting behind a desk, his dark green shirt unbuttoned halfway and the sleeves rolled up. More tattoos were on display, as well a tiny glint of a golden chain around his neck.

His blue eyes zeroed in on you; his gaze moved up your body slowly, taking every inch as if he was already imagining every single detail of what he was going to do to you and how will you look taking it all.

Then his attention shifted to a group of men sprawled on a couch on the side of the office.

"Your incompetence made me late for my date." He said to them and there wasn't even a slightest hint of playfulness to his tone.

He made it sound as if they did a severe offence to him and he was a step away from making them pay for it.

You had no idea what line of work Steve dabbed in, but it sounded like a serious business with dire consequences. Now you felt like you were an intruder who should leave, or else Steve's annoyance will shift to you.

However, when Steve's eyes returned to you, the steely glint in them morphed into softness.

"Come here, Cherry," he slid his chair back and motioned for you to walk over to him.

Your heartrate quickened as you felt eyes on you when you fully stepped inside. You tried not to glance at any of the other men in the room, instead allowing Steve to hold your gaze and lure you into his flame.

You let out a surprised gasp when Steve pulled you into his lap the moment you rounded the desk.

One of your hands touched his chest as you braced yourself at the sudden change in position. Steve's skin was warm beneath your fingers, dark blonde curls of his chest hair tickling your palm slightly.

You quickly moved your hand away, embarrassed that you touched him so openly while strangers were watching.

Steve didn't seem to mind it. He took your hand and lifted it to his lips to brush a soft kiss on your knuckles. Then he placed your hand back on his chest, while his own landed on your thigh.

Unabashedly high, almost slipping beneath your sundress.

"You're exactly on time, Cherry. You really are a good girl, aren't you?" He mused quietly, squeezing your flesh.

"Yes, Steve," your gaze dropped down and you tucked in your chin.

Steve studied you for a moment longer then turned his attention back to the others in the room.

"You have your orders and you better follow them exactly." Cold edge of his voice made you want to bury your face in the crook of his neck to avoid his wrath.

"Thor, make sure they make no mistakes this time. Now leave. All of you."

You didn't lift your head even after you heard the last footsteps fading away, your gaze lingering on the twirls of ink on Steve's chest as your own heart hammered in your ribcage.

You were acutely aware there was just the two of you now left. And as much as it was what you wanted, your nervousness bloomed.

Steve cupped your chin and made you look up at him.

"I'm sorry for running late on our date, Cherry. I promise that what I have planned should make it up to you."

"But-" suddenly his charming smile twisted into a hungry smirk as both of his hands slid to your hips- "those imbeciles have worked me up and I need to take the edge off before we leave."

In a swift single move he hoisted you up onto his desk.

"With how stiff and shy you are on me now, I think you need to get off, too."

He spread your legs apart - not that you put up much of a fight - and moved his chair closer.

Steve flipped the skirt of your dress up and traced his fingers across the pink cotton of your panties. He pressed his thumb against your clit, right above a small wet spot of your arousal.

"I see you're eager for our date," he chuckled, rubbing your clit harder and watching the wet stain spread.

Your hands clenched on the edge of the desk when Steve pulled the fabric of your panties aside and inched his mouth closer.

"I bet you're sweet all over, sweet Cherry."

He took a taste with a swipe of his tongue, licking between your slick folds and flicking the tip over your clit.

Your hips bucked and your head fell back when he repeated the motion, this time in three rapid strokes. Then his mouth descended on you, biting into your pussy as if it was a juicy fruit.

You weren't sure if you came when his tongue flicked between your opening and your anus, or when Steve's mouth closed around your clit and sucked. Or maybe it was two orgasms melting into one.

Your eyelids were clenched shut and your head swimming when his fingers curled around the front of your neck. With a hand around your throat, Steve pushed you back until you lied down on the desk fully, while he stood up.

A clink of a buckle being undone reached your mushy brain and your eyes fluttered open. Just to see Steve pushing his zipper down.

His cock sprang free; big and thick and veiny.

Your cunt clenched, hungry to feel the stretch of him leave you sore again.

Steve pumped himself a few times before inching forward between your splayed thighs.

"W-wait," your hand reached up as last, barely functioning brain cells reminded you of something important.

Steve paused, as you asked, squeezing his shaft tighter. The sight of it made you drool, your thoughts threatening to melt away. But you managed to stay focused for a second longer.

"Condom. Do you have- can you put one on?" You asked, looking up at Steve with uncertainty.

You wanted him to use one, but you weren't sure if you'd really be able to stop it all if he refused to. You wanted him inside of you too much.

"Condom?" Steve quirked a brow in surprise, studying you.

"Yes, please. I'm not on birth control," you admitted, gulping nervously.

Steve's blue eyes darkened as your words sank in. He stepped closer, bare cock inches from your dripping, unprotected pussy.

"Sweet Cherry, you let me take your pretty, tight pussy raw, even though you could've ended up pregnant?"

His voice was a sinful temptation and his dirty words made your walls clench around nothing.

"Yes," you admitted, ashamed.

"Why, hm?" He resumed slow strokes of his cock as he put his other hand right above your pussy, spreading his fingers wide on your abdomen and dipping his thumb between your folds.

Because I wanted you so bad.

Because I needed you inside me at any cost.

Because I liked that you branded me with your cum.

Because I didn't care what you do to me as long as you kept doing it.

"I don't know." You bit your bottom lip. "I wasn't thinking about the consequences. I wasn't thinking at all. I just- I want to be responsible now."

"What a good, smart girl you are," Steve praised, brushing his thumb along your clit.

He reached into his back pocket and withdrew a short strip of foil packets. He ripped one open and rolled a condom on.

His hand returned to your throat as he pressed the head of his cock against your slick opening.

"We'll be responsible, Cherry," he leaned over you and kissed you softly.

"For now," he added in a dark rasp while thrusting deep into you.

And then he took you, with the same unrelenting force that left you boneless and moaning. Steve praised that you sounded sweet and needy; you thought you sounded more of a whore. You didn't care anyway, because the way he was making you feel was maddening good.

You came around him once, the second climax Steve forced out of you with a hand choking the air out of you and a pinch to your clit.

He finished with a groan; lips parted and face flushed, possessive glint in his eyes as he watched you twitch beneath him.

If he wasn't planning on keeping to his promise and taking you out on a proper, nice date, he wouldn't empty into the condom, but instead withdraw from your sweet cunt and come all over your pretty sundress.

But Steve was a man of his word.

So he tossed the used rubber into the bin, helped you clean yourself up, then readjusted your dress and helped your wobbly legs walk outside.

He could ruin you more when he took you back home later.

#alexakeyloveloki #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #enforcer!steve rogers #enforcer!steve rogers x reader #soft!dark steve rogers #soft!dark steve rogers x reader #steve fic: cherry #my writing

[wildestdreamsblog]

Santa Tell Me

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: You needed protection. Steve was only too un(willing) to take you in his mountain.

Warnings: Swearing, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: One shot that has more that 5k words. One day, I’ll get over Chris Evans. But today isn’t the day. My Christmas gift to you hihi merry christmas lovely humans~

“No.”

A door slammed on Bucky’s face. He had not even said a word and yet, his best friend, Steve Rogers took one look at him and decided that it was best to slam the door in his face.

This punk, he thought.

Bucky took a deep breath before turning to look at the lady hiding behind his back. He offered you an assuring smile, pointing his thumb on the closed door before making a face as though saying that his friend was unnecessarily grumpy.

“Sorry ‘bout that. I think it’s menopause.”

Bucky cleared his throat before knocking once again.

The door opened with excessive force and once again, the brawny man appeared. Now that he didn’t slam the door, you were able to see what he really looked like.

What your supposedly temporary sanctuary looked like.

What he looked like.

When Bucky Barnes showed you what his best friend looked like, you thought that he seemed like an old-fashioned yet friendly man. From what Bucky told you, Steve used to be a captain in the military, until he quitted. The man just one day decided to retire because, and you quoted Bucky, ‘the man was simply fed up with people’s bullshit’.

You thought he looked handsome in his military uniform.

The hulking man in front of Bucky looked like the man in the photograph, yet at the same time so different. The Steve standing tall in front of you had beard on his face. In comparison to the photo, he now sported a longer hair that framed his manly face. You noted that his locks looked darker now. He was even bulkier now, too. The man on the photo looked like a hero. The one in front of you looked like an anti-hero.

“Heeeey,” Bucky grinned at Steve before slapping his arm in a friendly gesture. “I was just talking about you! So this is-“

“We’re the same age,” Steve cut Bucky off, glaring at him with his intense eyes before stepping closer to the equally huge man. You almost wondered how Bucky did not look intimidated at all when you remembered that underneath Bucky’s friendly persona was a man as deadly as him.

Steve never once looked at your direction as if you were inconsequential to him. Well, you thought, of course you were. To him, you were a nuisance. Bucky was not the one assigned to your case, yet you were immensely grateful that he stepped in once he noticed how the other man was bungling your case and almost caused your demise. That was to say it kindly when in truth, you walked out of their office one day after meeting with the other sergeant to go over your case. He assured you that the case was simple and that your life was not in grave danger. One moment you were crossing the road and was about to enter your car, and the next thing you knew a car was driving alarmingly fast to where you were standing. Your fight and flight instinct seemed to fail you as you did nothing but looked at the car with wide eyes and stuck limbs.

You should have been dead.

You would have been dead if it weren’t for Bucky’s quick reflexes and impeccable speed. And well, his metal arm. You felt a powerful arm tugged you behind a car, shielding you with his body and metal arm as the assailant pointed a gun at you and began shooting. The loud bangs from the weapons felt like it went on forever. Bucky had his other arm wrapped around you and he felt your uncontrollable trembles. He looked down and noticed how pale you were.

And he hated it.

He loathed seeing someone took advantage of helpless people.

Perhaps, that was what made him snapped. With practiced precision, Bucky pointed his gun and with a singular shot, he managed to hit one of the wheels. The car crashed to the post with deafening sound of collision. A moment passed before the forces were able to cautiously walked to the car, their guns pointed at the injured assaulters.

Bucky thought they were all useless.

After he made sure that you were indeed unharmed, Bucky gently dragged you back to the headquarters and berated the sergeant in charged of your case. He called the man, and you quoted: ‘a simpering buffoon’, ‘an intolerable fuck waffle’, ‘a spam email’, and lastly, he likened the sergeant to a wet sock. By the time he was done verbally kicking the man, the sergeant looked like he was one insult away from crying. Bucky thought that he deserved it. One mistake could cost someone’s life, and it almost costed yours.

Had the man simply looked deeper into the case, had he just noticed the familiar patterns of the crime, then he would know that the man you unknowingly outed was none other than the villain they had tried so hard to capture. He could not simply hand this case to another person. No, he knew what needed to be done, what level of protection you needed in order to get out of this disaster alive, and who could protect you as he resolved the case.

Which brought the two of you in front of his old friend’s cabin in the middle of nowhere. Okay, that might have been a tad bit exaggerated. Technically, Steve had neighbors in this mountains…just not near him…for miles..

Bucky cocked his head to the side, clearly confused as to what Steve said. “What?”

“We’re the same age. Therefore, If I am experiencing menopause, shouldn’t you be too?” Steve answered scathingly, clearly taking offense on Bucky’s senseless quip. He squinted his eyes at the equally tall man. Bucky’s jaw dropped dramatically, his hand covering his mouth.

“What?” He gasped theatrically. “Meaning to say you can still procreate?”

Steve clearly wasn’t amused. He stepped closer and to your astonishment, Bucky ran behind you. He humorously cowered on your back, using you as a human shield between him and the slighted former captain.

And that was the first time Steve Rogers laid his eyes on you.

To an untrained eye, no one could see him paused. But Bucky saw it. It was as though someone knocked the air out of his friend’s lungs. It was as though you were an occurrence that he never saw coming.

As the case may be, Steve led the two of you in his cozy cabin. The fire from the chimney made the place considerably warmer. Steve wordlessly placed a steaming cup of tea in front of you. Before you could even express your gratitude, he was already turning his back on you and sat on the chair in front of you and Bucky.

“Where’s my tea?” Bucky asked, looking longingly at the cup in your hands.

Steve merely spread his legs further, getting comfortable as he leveled his glare at his best friend. “She’s a guest.”

“I’m you guest, too!”

Steve shook his head slowly, “No, you’re not. You’re an unwanted nuisance, my acquaintance at best.”

Bucky could only blinked owlishly at his best friend. How could he categorized him as an acquaintance as if he didn’t grow up with him? The audacity. The nerve. But then he remembered, he must be kinder to Steve because he was the one needing a favor from him.

After Bucky went to the kitchen and served himself a tea all while mumbling under his breath how hospitable and recluse his friend had become, he went straight to business.

He laid out the facts, and Steve in turn listened intently. Bucky could see that he was just an inch closer to agreeing, and he needed just a push.

“She knows how to cook! She wouldn’t be a bother to you, right Y/N? You know how to cook?” Bucky exclaimed, his expression hopeful as he looked at you.

You shook your head slowly and you could see him visibly deflate.

“She knows how to do the laundry. You wouldn’t have to lift a finger while she’s here-“

You tapped his broad arm, before scooting closer to him. You whispered sheepishly to him, “I don’t know how to do that, too.”

“What?” he whispered back in astonishment and utter confusion.

Steve watched the two of you with a bored expression. His arms were crossed in front of him as he assessed the situation. This was not the first time Bucky used his space as a safe house. Usually, they only stay for a couple of weeks because that was how quick Bucky moved. When his best friend was intrigued with a case, he became so hyper focused that he only breathed for the case. In addition, the last time Bucky brought someone, he promised that it would be the last one.

And yet, here you were.

He could already feel the headache coming.

“Maybe you two want to talk it out first?” He asked when few minutes passed and you two were still conversing under your breaths.

Bucky offered him a sincere smile. “Come on, punk. For the spirit of Christmas, do it for me.”

He looked at him with deadpanned expression, “It’s October.”

He did not know how, but you and him watched as Bucky drove out of the property with a victorious smile on his face. How he was able to convince him was lost on Steve.

The first week went by quickly. You were somehow starting to be familiar with Steve’s routine. You noticed that early in the morning and before he locked the doors in the evening, he did parameter check. No matter how cold it was outside, he would do it without fail. You would admit that it made you feel safer. For the first time in months, you felt as though you were out of harm’s way. And in turn, you attempted to cook him meals. But that ended up a peril to the both of you…and his house.

You tried your very best to do his laundry, even his underwear. You were confused at first why you were having a hard time removing the stains form them. The look of horror in Steve’s face when he saw you hand washing his delicates was priceless. He was a man of great stature and nothing and no one managed to faze him. Until you.

He was so focused on your hands holding his underwear that he failed to notice how you were able to turn his white shirts into red.

He was still blushing and was unable to look in your eyes when that night, you gently place a steaming cup of coffee in front of him. He nodded his gratitude to you before engulfing the cup with his massive hand. He took on sip before he started coughing uncontrollably. In your panicked state, you went to him and touch him for the first time. You rubbed his muscular back, looking at his reddened face.

“What is this?” He asked between coughs. Only when he looked like he was near dying did he look at you.

“A coffee,” you answered.

“With salt?!”

A look of confusion passed your face before you realization dawned on you. Hurriedly, you went to him to take his sorry excuse for a coffee away from him. You were pouring it on the sink when you heard his concerned voice near you. In fact, you failed to notice him move and stand beside you because of your embarrassment.

“What happened?”

You contemplated whether you should tell him, but for his safety (and the safety of his food) you told him. With a deep breath, you turned to look at the tall man beside you.

“I lost my sense of taste.”

“Why?”

“Traumatic brain injury,” you admitted as though this was not a big deal, as though you didn’t almost die that night.

He didn’t need to know how- he had an inclination. Your enemy was powerful. Remarkably powerful that Bucky had asked for his help when he promised never to again. You were in danger.

You thought Steve would attempt to say something comforting like other people. Yet, all he did was to look at you intensely and nod his head as if in acknowledgement of your pain.

The next morning, you woke up to find all the ingredients in the kitchen with label, his beautiful handwriting on each of the container.

It was a cold night in November when Steve and your dynamic changed. You couldn’t sleep that night, your thoughts and anxiety about your future was getting ahead of you. It was as if you no longer had something to look forward to, as if it was solitary or death. You tried everything- from counting sheep, to reciting the alphabet backwards. And yet, you still couldn’t sleep. And so, you decided to warm a glass of milk when you heard it.

A sound of pain.

Fearing that something had happened to Steve, you ran to the side of the house you had never been in. You were thankful that the door was not locked when you barged in. The only weapon in your hand was a wooden spoon you would have used to stir your milk. Your eyes swept over the darkened place to fight the danger off and found none. The danger was in Steve’s mind. He was groaning in his sleep, his brows furrowed, showing his distressed. The sheet was entangled in his muscular limbs, sweat was rolling down his forehead.

He looked like he was in pain.

And you knew what it was, you had experienced what it was. It was something you wanted to run away from, and yet, you couldn’t. You were trapped in your own mind. And tonight, Steve was trapped in his own personal nightmare.

Softly, you brushed your hand on his hair, trying to soothe him. You called his name to wake him up, running your other hand up and down his arm in a pacifying manner.

“Steve, come on. Wake up,” you whispered when he started struggling, his muscles rippling from the intense emotions and anxiety rolling off of him.

“I’m here. No one’s gonna hurt you,” you buried your face on his chest. You had read somewhere that pressure was a good thing when someone was experiencing this to keep them grounded. You had desperately prayed that someone would be there for you when you felt like dying.

“I’m here for you..”

You repeated saying that until you felt him move. And only when his breathing turned normal did you look up at his confused and frightened eyes. Seeing as he was now awake, you attempted to move only for him to shackle you to his front with his muscular arms. He looked at you as if he couldn’t believe you were there with him, as if you were an angel that saved him the moment he thought he would perish.

“Stay,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. You were wary at that point. You felt as though you were crossing a line- something that you could never go back to. With his face so close to yours, you could feel something you never should have felt for this was only a temporary dwelling, your resting place.

This had a deadline.

You had gotten good at ignoring how handsome he was, how strong he was, how gentle he was to you… and how patient he was to all your shenanigans.

Most importantly, you were almost successful at ignoring how protective he was of you that he did not even let you cook. Or how he always had his hand on the small of your back when you two were walking outside. Or how he always checked on you each night and bid you good night. Or how he said without words how no harm would come upon you.

Or how feminine he made you feel.

It was so unlike how other men you had dated treated you. No, they didn’t treat you wrong… they just didn’t treat you the way he was treating you. Or look at you the way he was looking at you right now.

“Please,” he whispered.

And stay, you did.

It was before sunset when you opened your eyes. A heavy arm was thrown on your stomach, you back so close to his front that you could feel his warmth and a hardness you knew what it was. You felt a tinge of heat on your core. It had been too long… You could smell Steve this close. And by heavens, he smelled like home.

He smelled like yours.

But you knew you shouldn’t get attached. This would only bring chaos to his peaceful life. You weren’t ignorant to assume that his life in the military was peaceful. He wouldn’t be like how he was last night if not for the terrors he faced during his service.

And falling for him would only bring terror in his life. You could not bring yourself to ruin the peaceful and idle life he made for himself in this mountain.

With a firm decision, you left his bed.

Steve couldn’t remember sleeping as peacefully as he did…or waking up as late as he did that morning. Yet, all the calmness he felt vanished when he woke up without you. He knew he did not dreamed you. You were there. He felt you there. He held you in his arms. You soothed the demons living in his mind.

But where were you now?

His movements were abrupt as he scanned his room. He hastily moved out of his room, sweeping a look at every room he passed. He placated himself by thinking that you might have moved back to your room to sleep only to be disappointed. Your room looked cold. You weren’t there. He felt his heart beating, the sound drumming out of his ribcage that it hurt. He felt as though he could not breathe. With a poorly constrained terror, he started calling out your name loudly as he moved to every room of his house.

And still, you weren’t there.

You left, he was convinced.

And he felt betrayed.

How could you leave just like that when you brought color to his bleak life? When for the first time in years he felt that he wasn’t alone? How could you leave like that when you were able to silence the demons he tried so hard to kill?

He was hunched over the kitchen counter when he heard a door open. Unknowing that you left a bomb to explode by stepping outside, you flashed Steve a small smile. In your hand was a bunch of flowers you had plucked from around the area. Your smile froze when he walked to you like a bull ready to eviscerate his opponent. Barely stepping back, you were unprepared when you felt his powerful arms around you, his body trembling with anger and anxiety.

“S-Steve?”

If he heard you, he didn’t give an ounce of indication. His hold on you tightened, his face buried on your dainty shoulder. It went for so long that you started feeling uncomfortable. Your mind was set from your morning walk that you would go back to treating him like a friend. You were attempting to get out of his hold when he finally did speak.

“Do you even have an ounce of idea what I would do if you end up getting hurt?” His voice was cold when he spoke. He let you go to look at you. His anger was palpable. The calm and quiet Steve you knew was gone.

“I just went out to-“

“And you didn’t think of the danger?” He asked in indignation. The way he was looking at you made you feel like a petulant child, as though you did a terrible mistake. “You didn’t think that Bucky placed you in my care only for you to get hurt because what? You wanted to pick up flowers? Are you that thoughtless-“ He finally trailed off when he saw tears threatening to fall. Your lips were quivering from hurt. Steve suddenly felt at loss. He went too far, he was afraid to admit.

Without meeting his eyes, you stepped out of his hold, placed the flowers on the counter, and went up to your room.

It was hours later when a knock disrupted you from your hateful thoughts toward him and pitying thoughts for your situation. You were pouting when the door opened, revealing the person who vexed you today. You didn’t say anything, merely threw daggers his way. Steve didn’t know how to deal with someone like you, yet he knew he was in the wrong. He let his emotions get the best of him.

“I’m sorry, angel,” he said, watching your expressionless face. You hated how he talked to you. There was already someone bungling your life and making it miserable and making you feel like you were so small that he could step on you. You didn’t need another man to do that.

Coldly, you replied, “I only accept apologies in cash.”

And that was how you found yourself in town. Steve was on guard as he walked with you, his towering height made it possible to see everyone. He was serious while you were jumping up and down from excitement. It had been close to half a year since you were out in the public, and this felt like a treat to you. You were so used to living and providing for yourself that when shit happened, it was a big adjustment for you. Yet now, you had no qualm spending his money. It was reparation for damages that he did to you, you thought.

You smiled evilly as he paid for the camera that you bought.

It was not the fanciest, you were not that evil. But it was so long since you last held a camera. You were a photographer, one of the best actually. You were winning contests left and right. One day, you were innocently taking a photo of a landscape, admiring the nature and the vast land before you. Your focus was on the deers wandering aimlessly. You went home that day like any other work day. It was the next day when you were reviewing your photos that you noticed that just behind the deers, almost hidden behind the trees, were three men. One man looked like he was running, the other two was laughing with guns in their hands. It turned out you were a witness to a crime. Not long after, the body was found.

And that was how you got entangled in this whole fiasco.

It was almost December, and the market was already decorated with Christmas lights and in the middle of it all was the huge tree. You pulled Steve in front of it, lifted the camera, and took a picture of the two of you. You were looking at the camera, and he was looking down at you with a small smile in his face.

December came. It was the day before Christmas when Steve found you in the kitchen, attempting once again to cook properly. Regardless of the taste, Steve always ate your food without any reluctance. Yet, what you were cooking looked festive that it confused him.

“Is there an occasion?” He asked as he sipped his coffee, thankfully no longer salty.

“I’m one year closer to death.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s my birthday.”

You faced him with a smile. Steve walked to you, before embracing you in his arms. “I am so happy you’re alive, angel. Happy birthday,” he whispered in your ears. He wanted to say how happy he was you were here, too. Yet, he didn’t.

That night, he laid out the table so beautifully. Candles were lit in the middle. Steve cooked for the two of you, and he took out wine from his cellar. You and him were sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace with wine glass in your hand.

“You never asked me why I had a nightmare,” Steve stated, he was swirling the wine as he looked at you. You could feel his body warmth this close. The wine, the candle, and the way he looked at you felt like this was something intimate.

“I figured if you wanted me to know, you would.”

“You weren’t curious.”

“We all have demons to live with. That’s what I thought. And I hope you defeat your demons,” you admitted before sipping from your glass.

What you didn’t know was his demons were becoming less and less strong the longer you stayed with him, he thought. You could silence them.

“Did you enjoy your birthday, angel?”

“I did. Also, why are you calling me an angel?”

“Because I feel safe with you.”

“What?” You sputtered. If anything, he should be the angel with the way he took you in when he didn’t have to. “If that’s the case, you’re the angel, Steve. You make me feel safe,” you stated with sincerity in your voice.

“I know I’m an imposition to you. I’m thankful that you took me in. Bucky mentioned that he’s almost sure that this will end soon. Thank you for letting me stay here, Steve. Soon, you can have this haven all to yourself. I will never forget your kindness. You’re my angel.”

When you finally looked up, you noticed how serious he was looking at you. His eyes drifted to your lips. Unconsciously, you licked your lips. Suddenly you felt as though you were parched. Steve hated the thought of him living in this mountain without you. You had been here for only close to three months and yet, you changed him. His house no longer felt cold. His house no longer felt empty. He hated the thought of losing you.

He thought that you were meant to be here.

Steve lowered his face to you, inch by inch. Until you felt his lips on you. He kissed you slowly at first, so softly that your eyes fluttered close. It was only when you opened your lips did he kiss you with such intensity that it made your breathless. His hand was on the back of your head, pulling you closer to him. His tongue demanded entrance, and you were too willing to give in. The taste of mint and wine on his lips made you kissed him deeper. With his strength, he pulled you on top of him. You were straddling him, and his hands were discovering your curves. The hard evidence of his pleasure was pressed on your core.

You were humping him, all rational thoughts flew out of your brain the moment his lips touched yours. From this angle, you could feel how big he was. You were moaning when his lips skimmed to your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses. Your pulse was erratic, he noted. You were as affected as he was. With barely restrained impatience, Steve placed you on the carpeted floor, his body closely following as he topped you. He caressed your soft thigh, your dress falling to your waist which gave him access to your core. As if to tease you, Steve ran his hand from your neck to your chest, down to your stomach, and finally to your thong.

“Naughty girl,” he whispered in your ear. “I bet you’re dripping wet for me.” Without any warning, he tore your thong away from you. He was in the middle of your parted legs, his look dark as he focused on your core. His finger traced your slit, making you moan as he smirked at how wet you were for him. “Fuck, you’re so wet. Your cunt is so wet for me.”

He slid down. Steve opened your pussy wider with his fingers and with his tongue, he tasted you. You were shocked at how much pleasure he was giving you that when he dove in and ate you like a man starved, you felt yourself go. Yet, he didn’t stop. A finger eased in you as he sucked your clit, moaning with gusto. You were so tight that he wondered how he would fit in you. He was thinking you were his, only his after this.

You were on your second orgasm, your legs shivering when he finally lifted his face. His beard was drenched with your essence, his hair falling on his forehead as he looked at you with heat in his eyes. Your dress was the next to go.

You were too in hazed from your orgasms, and his mouth sucking ferociously on your breast that you didn’t know how he got you and him naked. Yet, the next thing you knew, he was pressing his hard cock against your pussy. He kept pressing the head against you.

“You want me,” he said darkly. It wasn’t lost on you that it was not a question. Yet, you nodded your head. Because at that moment, you did want him more than anything else.

Steve rub his cock on your swollen clit before sliding it down on your tight hole. And then he shoved it inside you, pushing you to the edge once again.

He was only too glad you were too into it that you didn’t notice he had no protection. Or that he came inside you.

He was only too glad to taste you when you were awake. He had craved hearing your moans.

He was only too glad that you were a heavy sleeper some nights that he was able to spread your legs and taste you. He even marked your pussy with his cum on some nights. Of course, you would never know that. It was his secret.

Your talk about how this would all end, how he was going to be alone soon made him crazy. You didn’t know, but you unknowingly traded a dangerous man to another devil. He’d have a talk with Bucky, of course. Bucky would understand that he had to keep you. You’d go nowhere. You were his. He had been good all his life. Didn’t he deserve a Christmas gift, too? You and a baby soon, perhaps?

He smiled at your sleeping form. He couldn’t stop himself from hugging you closer. The snow was falling beautifully outside, the fire had long simmered. The sun was starting to rise. This was what Christmas truly felt like, Steve thought.

When you finally stirred, he whispered, “Merry Christmas, my angel.”

#steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #nomad steve rogers #steve rogers smut #dark steve rogers #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #soft!dark steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers fanfic

[navybrat817]

Sweet as Cherry Pie

Pairing: Soft Dark!Steve Rogers x Female Reader Summary: Steve comes home with great news, but you're not as happy as you should be. Word Count: Over 1.4k Warnings: Implied smut, noncon/dubcon elements (you have been warned), gaps in memory, gaslighting, coercion, creepy vibes, Steve Rogers (yep, he's a warning and a little mean) A/N: Steve and Cherry's Intro for my Disturbia AU! ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You always enjoyed baking. It gave you something to do with your hands and the hobby was both simple and challenging. It required focus for measuring and following directions, but you also had fun with your creations. It seemed to be one of the only ways you could express yourself now, which clouded your feelings when you focused too much on it.

I will not feel sorry for myself. I have a good life. The best life.

Being the wife of Steve Rogers was a dream come true. The man was handsome, loving, a hero. The all American dream wrapped up in the perfect package. He worked hard to provide you both with a lovely home and didn't ask for much in return. Only that you follow his orders and be dutiful.

A good wife obeys her husband.

You idly wiped down the counter as you waited for the oven timer to go off, glancing at one of the photos Steve placed near the window. While he smiled from ear-to-ear, yours was a little more reserved. He loved drawing and taking photos of you, but there weren’t any photos of the two of you before you moved to The Haven. They were somehow lost in the move.

Not that I remember packing any of my stuff, but my old place doesn’t matter, does it?

The sound of Steve’s motorcycle pulling into the garage pulled you from your distracted thoughts. He normally called if he was going to come home early. The sound of the door would indicate if he was back for a good or bad reason. Either way, he’d take his mood out on your body. You had to look presentable.

A good wife lives to please her husband.

You threw your apron off and rushed to your room to put on the cherry scented perfume he liked. He enjoyed it because it was seductive and sensual, sweet and tart, good enough to eat. As if on autopilot, you applied it to the same four spots: behind your ear, at the base of your neck, your wrist, and behind your knee. You retouched your lips next, staring at the tube of lipstick once you finished. It wasn't a color you wore until you moved in with him.

Steve picked it because he knows best.

When you looked at your beautiful reflection in the mirror, the urge to smash it began to surface. A flickering flame grew within you, threatening to spread like wildfire as you dropped the lipstick into the sink. There was nothing wrong with looking pretty for your husband. You just wished the person staring back at you was one you recognized.

I’m Cherry. I’m Mrs. Steve Rogers. I’m happy.

“Sweetheart?” Steve called to you before he gently shut the door. He was in a good mood at least. “Mmm. Something smells delicious.”

You straightened your dress and brushed off any negativity that bubbled under your skin as you went to greet him. Not a single blonde hair of his was out of place as he took in the sight of you. The need to impress him took over your thoughts. “Hi. Cookies are almost done,” you said, pressing your red lips to his cheek. “I didn’t expect you to come home so soon.”

“Maybe I just wanted to see my beautiful wife,” he asked as he slipped off his shoes and guided you toward the kitchen. Any excuse to touch you, he did. “Why? Are you not happy to see me?”

“I’m always happy to see you,” you said as you grabbed an oven mitt. The timer went off a second later and his eyes didn’t leave you as you carefully took the sheet out. “I just wanted to make sure everything’s okay.”

“Everything’s great,” he said, inspecting the cookies as you set them on the stove. You knew it was a wonderful batch without tasting them. The perfect man, he expected perfection in every extension of him. Which is why you didn’t make mistakes with any of your baking or cooking. "I have the best news.”

"Oh? What is it?" you asked curiously.

"Bucky’s married!" he said, taking you by the waist to twirl you around. “Can you believe it?”

"Married?" you repeated, not as happy as your husband. The news should’ve excited you since Bucky was his best friend, but it confused you. "I didn't know he was seeing anyone."

"No? I swore I told you he had his eye on someone,” he said with a condescending chuckle. “Makes me think you don’t pay attention when I speak to you, but that can’t be it, right?”

You went rigid in his grasp when he smiled. It reminded you of a demon, the shades of red and darkness showing in his eyes and perfect row of teeth. “It must’ve slipped my mind. Silly me,” you tried to giggle.

Like so many other things.

You didn’t relax until he kissed the corner of your mouth. “Because you’re so busy taking care of me, which I appreciate,” he praised you, his smile softer. Kinder. “And it’s better most days when I do the thinking for you.”

You bit your tongue so hard you almost drew blood, wanting to say that you were more than just a pretty face. The words didn’t come though. “You know best, Steve” you said as you plastered a smile on your face, your voice somewhat hollow after his insult. “And I love taking care of you.”

If he noticed your lack of enthusiasm, he didn’t say so. “Back to the good news,” he said, swaying with you even though there was no music. “It was a quick engagement and they didn’t want to wait. I wish I could’ve been at the ceremony, but I had that mission and I don’t blame him one bit for not waiting.”

“I’m sure he would’ve loved for you to be his best man.”

“He would’ve, but I'm happy that he’s happy. When you know, you know,” he said, tapping the tip of your nose. “Like the moment I met you. I knew you were going to be my wife."

Your smile faltered a little. It was difficult some days to remember just how you two came to be Mr. and Mrs. Rogers. You knew you loved him, but the actual process of falling for him? The build up of the relationship? It was like there was a chapter missing.

The past is the past and I have everything I need in the present.

Steve looked at you expectantly as you blinked. You needed to focus. “Just like I knew you’d be my husband.”

He hummed, seemingly pleased with your response. "We're going to meet her soon. Will you do me a favor, please? Make her feel welcome?" He suggested, but it was more like a command. He sometimes liked to phrase things in ways that made it sound as if you had a say in the matter, but his word was law. “Bucky’s my best friend and I want you two to be best friends.”

"Of course. It’ll be nice to have a new friend.”

“And once she’s settled in, I know they’re going to start trying for a family,” he went on, placing his hand on your stomach. “Which means we can try, too. Our kids can grow up together, the way Bucky and I did. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?”

Steve would be the best father. He deserves a family. So does Bucky.

“So wonderful,” you whispered, afraid you’d cry if you raised your voice. You wish you knew why the thought of having children with the man you loved scared you.

“Maybe we can start practicing,” he said, his voice huskier as he gripped your hips. “A bit of dessert before dinner.”

You didn’t protest as he backed you against the counter. Your body would welcome him home the way it always did. He’d please you as you pleased him.

“And Cherry?”

“Yes, Steve?” you asked as he dipped his head to inhale your perfume.

“Make a cherry pie for me to send to Bucky’s house. I don’t think he plans on leaving anytime soon and he isn’t letting his wife leave the bed. We can’t let them go hungry now, can we?”

“No, we can’t,” you replied, closing your eyes as he pushed your dress up.

“That’s my good girl,” he whispered.

Happy husband. Happy wife. Happy life.

All good in the neighborhood, right? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x female!reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers #soft!dark steve rogers x reader #disturbia au #steve and cherry #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers au #chris evans x reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x female!reader #chris evans x you #chris evans

[darkdarkstucky]

Enchanted, S. Rogers and C. Kent.

SUMMARY: In a world where Omega's were scant and decent alpha's even more so, you think you're one in a million to be in a relationship with Alpha's who not only take care of your every whims and need, but also love and respect you unconditionally. However, your marital bliss of two years is interrupted by the concept of ‘true mates’.

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader x Clark kent.

Warnings: Cursing, Angst.

CHAPTER THREE

“Wake up, buttercup!” Natasha cheerily exclaims, clapping her hands together after successfully pulling back the curtains to let the sunshine in your desolate quarters. You groaned sleepily turning your head towards the other direction, until she peeled the covers back from you.

“Uh-uh, we are not letting you sleep in the bed for days on end again.” the red head tuts, pulling your limp arm and ushering you towards a seating position. “Today, we're going out and walking on sunshine vampy.”

“No. Let me wallow in doubt and sadness.” you whine, eyes shut. You were still in dreamland, nestled in the covers with the ac on full blast— and you could literally spend days in the bed it feels like. You were always so sleepy and tired.

Part of you blamed it on over-thinking. Your brain must have been fueling up for all of your racing thoughts. Or it was only during sleep that you weren't thinking anything.

“Can't. The sun is up and the day is to be conquered. Where's your fucking spirit?”

“Oh wait! I remember where i left it, let me check.” you wiggled, making her hold loosen before you dived back into the sheets.

Comfy. So so nice.. you rub your face in Clark's pillow, sighing out in bliss. Just as you were about to doze off again..

“Nat!” you bellow, feeling yourself get lifted off the bed and towards the en suite.

“We're going out and fucking things up dollface! No excuses!”

☁️

“I feel like richard gere and you're my bitch- well, technically not one, but you get my point.” Nat nonchalantly puts down the menu, staring at you from across the table.

There was an astounding array of shopping bags placed neatly along the floor, both of you going haywire on different shops and swiping daddy's plastics, and only when you calmed down did you realize how much clothes you bought.

You'd feel bad, yet both Steve and Clark had gaslighted you early on that it isn't real money princess. So you went on your merry way each time and thought as if you were only playing pretend.

“Why can't i be a bitch?” you mutter, inbetween bites of garlic bread, basically inhaling the small tray of decadent pastry. It was crunchy, and soft on the inside with hints of melted cheese. Ohmy, you wanted to gobble it up.

Nat looked at you as if you were stupid. “Because.. you're rainbows, and butterflies and shiny shimmering glitter.”

You made a face, “You're saying i'm made of nice things? Aww, naty.”

“Yes, and if i put you in my mouth, you'll melt like a cotton candy.” she flippantly voices, which made both of you stare at eachother— silent and intent gazes, before bursting into laughter. Giggling at the unknown double entrede.

“Hello, madamme.” Your head snaps towards a slightly familiar older man decked in a pristine suit, an easy yet flattering grin on his face. “How are you finding your lunch? Has anyone taken your order yet?”

“Oh, hey ben. It's pleasant, as it always is. We've actually just placed our orders,” You smile in response.

“Oh that's great! and you're here with Mrs. Barnes, i see.” He politely nods to the red head. “Will you be joining Mr. Kent at the second floor? He's got an entourage, but i doubt it's concerning business. It appears to be more casual.”

“Is that so? I mean, Clark did say something about a lunch. Who's he with?” Your mouth moves faster than you could think.

In reality, the only thing you've recieved from both of them were casual goodmornings and update as to where they were. Steve was in France, Clark said he was in Russia. Atleast, that was what they told you.

“The usual, madamme. A couple of security details, and a new secretary. She seems to be new, atleast from who Mr. Kent usually keeps in his payroll.” The host narrates, thinking nothing of it. Everyone was already well aware of how much you meant to your husbands— to the point where nobody would bat an eye if they were seen out with another woman. Nobody could possibly believe they would replace you.

And you hated to jump into conclusions, but why would he need to lie?

Your heart wanted to lurch out of your chest. Nat's clearing of her throat made you snap out of your spiral; and you schooled your features back into a cheery expression once again.

“Well, if Mr. Kent wouldn't mind our presence.”

☁️

“.. I was actually a scholar of Kent foundation. Can you believe it? Our fates, so intertwined. It was really as if we were meant to be.” Lois gushes, leaning over in her chair, looking at him as if she were about to jump his bones.

Frankly, it made him quite uncomfortable. Nothing about this - if you could even call it a date, it was more like a formal gathering or a meet of sorts that he was inclined to arrange- felt natural, nor right.

Clark wanted to rely on his base instincts for direction but he couldn't grope for a shred of connection. Not even a silver of fondness, which is strange, considering thag they were supposed to be compatible— the person oppsite of him bore the genetic compatibility, as per several tests.

Though, what she said piqued his interest. “Which part of town would you say?”

“Upper east side,” Lois responds. Clark shifted in his seat, a smile making it's way to his features which held a considerable sway in her judgement. He asks a few more questions in that honeyed voice of his, to which she absently replied at.

“Huh, would you look at that.” He leans back in his seat, gears in his head turning but he maintained an easy smile on his face, mirth dancing in the darkened blue of his eyes.

“How about i permanently move your residence in, say, one of my towers?” Lois' breath hitched at the proposal.

“I-i mean, sure if that's what you want.” she gathered herself for a while, before remembering to act bashful and blinking up at him rapidly, smiling coyly. “I'm yours afterall. Your mate.”

You can hear the jeers and the laughter, staying through the conversation, until you found yourself feeling literal pangs of hurt in your chest. Fuck. What does all of this mean?

“Let me kill this son of a whore,” Nat was about to angrily storm inside, but you managed to stop her, putting an arm out.

“Don't even bother.” you murmur, finding it hard to find your own voice. At that point, you felt almost numb— as if your brain was shutting down from what you've heard, finding it difficult to process at all.

You woke up with the hope of your marriage still intact. Thinking, rather stupidly, that this was just a rather difficult hurdle in your marriage. Thinking that perhaps, this was all just a big misunderstanding like what you were repeatedly assured of.

But this was beyond even your wildest dreams. Nothing made sense. It was as if your world was crashing down on you all at once. True mates? It mocks you repeatedly.

Steve and Clark told you that you were the one. You believed them, because why would they lie to you? They had no reason to!

To get in your pants, silly. The rational, or was it pessimistic part of you said.

You blinked away the tears, turning around, and indulging in the manical urge that clouded all your rationality— run.

So you fled.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x female reader #soft!dark steve rogers #soft!dark steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #steve x you #steve rogers fanfiction #alpha!steve rogers x reader #alpha!steve rogers x omega!reader #alpha!steve rogers #alpha!steve x reader #clark kent x reader #clark kent x female reader #clark kent x you #clark kent x y/n #clark kent fanfiction #soft!dark clark kent #soft!dark clark kent x reader #alpha!clark kent x reader #alpha!clark kent

[bunnybearmarvel]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ Bunny Instincts.

pairings. | steve rogers x hybrid!bunny reader

summary. | It’s an animal instinct to be wary when a predator is near; your little baby bunnies, are well aware when daddy is near.

warnings. | soft!dark steve rogers, hybrid!bunny reader, allusions to kidnapping, manipulation, daddy!kink, language.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

Letting out a soft giggle, you watch in amusement as the twins prattle about in the grass field, hopping here and there, attempting to race eachother but getting distracted by butterflies and flowers along their path.

You were lying down on a blanket, basking under the warmth of the morning sun, a book in hand and a basket full of treats for you and your little babies. You enjoyed the breeze, the serenity of these mornings, the quiet and the slow; for you, it was perfect.

Cooing, you reach out a hand to your baby who sneezed, it seemed as if she was allergic to pollen, her pink snout twitches involuntarily. She leans into your touch, and you lift her up to your chest.

“It’s okay, bubba.” You utter, softly stroking her soft fur. Her blue eyes were watery, the cirulean blue akin to her father’s; yet, hers merely blinked up at you with parts reliance and innocence, so different to the shrewd and calculative of his. “We can’t play with those kind of flowers, but there are others; i know, honey. It’s itchy?” You tut, brushing her nose when her whole face twitches.

The twin, who had been curiously hopping after a colorful butterfly suddenly stilled, gazing faraway, to barely registered footsteps, his discerning ears perking up in attention. The ominous presence of something.. strong, had caused him to clamber back to his mother, tail tucked in between his legs.

Your head darts up to the door of the house, and you gazed at your baby who was shivering in freight. Bunnies are easily frightened, and when they’re still small and unable to shift into their human form; their bones brittle, and their autonomy limited until the age of two, they’re extremely delicate and sensitive.

Especially to sound, and their environment; the instinct of an animal, much more, one who have been hunted since eons ago such as bunnies, was heavily engraved into his consciousness.

“It’s okay sweetheart,” you gently coo, bringing him closer to your chest also. Allowing him to hear the thrum of your heartbeat, in hopes it will calm his erratic beating heart. “Mama’s here, i’ll protect you.” You whisper, placing a dainty kiss on each of their forehead. The trembling toned down a little, much to your relief.

“Trying to act tough, bunny?" His baritone voice held a tone of amusement, large frame coming into view, still decked in his navy blue tactical suit. Your breath hitched in your throat once you lay sight on his almost, lazy smile, clearly patronizing you; and your feeble attempt at protection.

He looked rough, yet not in an entirely bad way. Just that Steve left with a thin stubble framing his jaw, and his hair cut cleanly, into his smart and put together fashion; he looked the golden boy, the personification of true and honest american values.

But the month long mission had certainly, changed his appearance— his true disposition, a little more evident by the longer hair and thick beard that framed his face. He looked mean. Yet the mere sight of him had inevitably brought a shiver of want through your body.

“Daddy,” you whisper, stunned, pillowy lips parting in surprise at his arrival. You were expecting him a couple of weeks later, but things must have changed which made him arrive home early.

“No welcome kisses for daddy?” He raises a barely amused brow, expression shifting to stern, and despite yourself; you slowly rose, not before placing your little bunnies in the blanket, and whispering gentle words of comfort into their ears, and crept towards him, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips.

He deepens it, the kiss quickly turning passionate and starved. He conveyed his yearning through the punishing brush of his lips to yours, hands finding purchase on the small of your waist in order to bring you closer. You whimper, and yelp once he squeezed the globes of your ass, yet he only took the opportunity to plunge his tongue into your mouth, sucking and tasting your mouth.

He only lets you go once you were breathless, eyes glossed over to his satisfaction. Steve rubs your lower lip, eyes roaming your face as he takes in your otherwordly beauty, noticing the lightness and glow of your visage. He has always thought you were breathtakingly gorgeous; and coupled with motherhood, your ever blossoming maternal instinct, that chipped at your defiance and made you his soft, pliable little bunny.

Steve knows knocking you up had been his best choice at keeping you; little bunnies like you, helpless and innocent, were made to bend over and take cock like a fucking pro— not wander around, nor integrate into society as something you, very clearly was not made for.

You were made for breeding, is what you were. A fertile little thing. An insatiable, needy little bunny that deserved to be stuffed full of his cum, until you’re swollen with his children. And again. And again, until you’re pathetic and begging with soft and musical cries that only every fueled his desire to fuck you until you’re passed out.

His cock strains painfully in his jeans, gaze flickering to your swollen breast; your pert nipples evident through the filmsy sundress, they were plump and round with milk, and heck, if he wasn’t already rock hard with just the sight of you. He places a lingering kiss on the swell of your breast, and your cheeks heated.

“Stevie,” you whine, placing a hand to his chest. “It tickles.” He chuckles.

“You’re too sensitive bunny,” Steve snorts, but relents. He has plenty of time to bother you later, now, however he glances behind you, and towards the huddled pair of his children. “What are you doing so far away?” His voice was gruff, and you saw the tremble wrack their little bodies.

They had always been afraid of Steve. Shaking whenever he touches them; whimpering whenever he’s near. It’s like your children knows to what extent, Steve’s nature and how truly sinister the huge man was.

“Daddy,” you utter with a silent reprimand, “Please don’t scare them.” You touch his chest.

His brow furrows, “They’re afraid of their own father?” Disappointment colors his tone, he had always been brash and domineering, indeed. But he’s tried several times to connect and bond with his children, but they were ultimately frightened of him for some unknown reason. He calls their names, “Come here.” He orders firmly.

You bite your lower lip, “Daddy.” You warn, eyes wide and pleading. You wish he was more tender, softer with them. They’re feeble, which your husband can’t seem to understand. “Gentler, please. Don’t call them as if you’re about to grab them by the skin of their neck and haul them.”

“Isn’t that what animals do, sweetheart?” He quips back, blue eyes narrowing. “Besides, i ought to teach them a little thing about what happens to children who disobey.”

“They’re still babies; they can’t understand alot.” You appease him softly, looking back at your children with encouraging eyes. “You have to comfort them, coax them. Be a little more patient, please, daddy.” You place a hand on his chest and blinked up at him with doe eyes. One you know he finds hard to resist.

Steve’s jaw clenches, the tough façade crumbling slowly. “They got that from you, little bunny. Always needing persuasion, promises; coaxing.” You hum and nuzzle your face into his chest, awarding the broad expanse of it with butterfly kisses and inhaling his scent. He smelled of rich cedarwood and pine, insanely addictive and for you, comforting.

“Come here,” He orders, a little softly now and you smile at him encouragingly. “Papa’s not mad, i promise. He just wants to kiss his babies.” Steve’s gruff voice utters, and he beckons the twins over with a wave of a hand. Once they were at arms reach, he bends down and lifts them up, pressing a kiss to their head.

“My bestest babies,” you whisper adoringly as you hug them inbetween the two of you. “So brave, and sweet.” You continue to whisper words of encouragement in their ears, the twins responding to you with wriggling movements, and rubbing up at you, while Steve watches with satisfaction and awe.

He truly made the right decision to making sure you’re well and truly his. Only his. Afterall, Steve Rogers does deserve a family of his own; he’s done so much for his country, fought and thrown himself on the line of his work just to make sure that the world remains at peace and he deserves his own piece of happiness.

Even if he had to steal you away. He will break you apart and build you up all over again if it meant he would have you. Steve will tear anyone, limb to limb if they dare to steal you away from him. So what if you had a life ahead of you? Did he not give you, your own piece the world; a nice beautiful house, a white picket fence, a large and expansive garden and every luxury you could ever think of. He satisfies your every need and whim; he fucks you good, he satiates you, he loves you. Steve loves you a fucking lot. Loves you that he will do anything for you— expcept let you go.

“I love you, daddy.” You murmur, reverently. It took alot to mold you into his perfect little wife, but everything was worth it when you look at him and tell him those perfect words.

“I love you, bunny.” He replies, equally reverent.

You’re his. But more evidently, he is yours.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #soft!dark steve rogers x reader #soft!dark steve x reader #soft!dark steve rogers #daddy!steve x little!reader #daddy!steve #steve rogers #captain america x female reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve x reader #steve x you #steve x y/n #captain america x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve x reader #dark!steve x you

[goodgirlofglory]

In the balance - Chapter 8: Ragged depths

Chapter 7

/Masterpost/

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers x reader

Word count: 5,2k

Warnings: non-con (series), dub-con (series), explicit sexual content, explicit descriptions of blood, graphic descriptions of violence and death, like gnarly stuff (at least as gnarly as I've ever written), smut, oral (f recieving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, pregnancy kink, breeding kink, daddy kink.

Summary: Lost in an endless, repetitive dream of luxury and pleasure in Steve's arms, finally accepting of your fate and the pregnancy you can no longer hope to terminate, you think all is safe and well - until strangers appear in the middle of the night. Though these strangers ignite fear in you, witnessing the way Steve deposes of them might be what ignites true fear in you...

Note: WOOOO CHILD, finally got around to finishing this chapter. Sorry for the wait and thank you for the patience from those of you still following this series and asking for updates. Love you🫶

A special thanks to this ask that inspired this chapter. Really, I just took dear anons idead and ran with it😘😘

This shit it DARK! Your media consumption is your own responsibility, but I advise you not to interact if the content of the warnings upset you!

Minors DO NOT INTERACT!!!!!!!!🚫

Reblogs, likes, replies and asks are amazing🦋

“That’s it, baby, squeeze my cock just like that,” Steve groaned as he pounded into you from behind. You could barely manage a gasping intake of breath as his cock hit that spot inside you dead-on and you arched your back on instinct, trying to get him deeper. Steve groaned approvingly, gripping your hips tighter as he speared you harder. 

It was the third time that day, this time bent over the kitchen table. It had only taken a look and the grazing of your fingers as Steve handed you your tea. Next thing you knew, your panties were down around your ankles, your dress hiked up over your head and you were being fucked within an inch of your life, completely naked, bent over the table. The cool air from the open patio door sent goosebumps over your exposed skin, and the obscene slick between your legs squelched in between Steve’s grunts and your gasping moans. Steve had his pants down around his ankles, and he was bent over you, mouthing aggressively at your neck. 

You whined as another pounding wave of pleasure rippled through you, threatening to take your knees out. Steve’s hands wound around to your rounded belly, stroking over the bump and groaning against the nape of your neck, pushing his face into your hair and taking in greedy gulps of your air, and you flushed at the aggressive way he was smelling you, your hormones no doubt driving his frenzy higher.

“You’re so gorgeous like this, all round and heavy with my baby” he growled, and the ownership in his voice made you keen. “Walking around like this, letting me see just how much you’ve grown from my seed inside you,” Steve said, nibbling on your ear and the skin below it in a proprietary way. You flushed hot from the top of your head down to your toes, trying to hide your rapidly heating face, the way his praise washed over you like silk, making you thrust your hips back to meet his pelvis. 

“Mmm, did you like the sound of that, baby?” Steve teased, smiling against the clammy skin of your neck, hands coming up to cup your bouncing breasts, teasing the puffy nipples and you wailed, completely beyond words. “Did you?” Steve asked again, slowing his hips down just a tad despite your sound of protest. “Answer me, sugar,” he said sternly, pinching your nipples between thumb and forefinger and your pussy throbbed, a sign you were spiraling towards the edge despite Steve slowing his thrusts. His words whirled around in your mind along with the hormonal arousal constantly begging for release and the way his warm skin felt on yours, the primal position of your fucking, the guttural sounds he made as his hands ran over your pregnant belly while his cock, hard as a rod, pounded into your yielding, wet flesh.His cock was so hard, and you knew you were dripping to the floor. 

Flushing even more profusely, you could only manage a nod, your mouth opening to desperately pull in air. Steve kissed your cheek with an open mouth, messily, moaning approvingly, but he didn’t speed up his thrusts again, and you were about to go insane, your body tense and shivering. 

“I need your words, honey, do you have a few words for daddy?” he asked, sickly sweet as one of his hands moved down to lightly graze your swollen and pulsing clit. You nearly lost your footing again, knees shaking as he teased your clit with his fingertips, hips moving steadily, jolting you forward before you moved back to meet his thrusts, mindlessly seeking more friction to bring you over the edge. Your head was completely empty of coherent thought and he knew it. 

He fucking loved when you got like this, it reminded him of those first times in your apartment, when you’d gone from a shy, terrified little bunny to a drooling, wet, empty-headed, cum-hungry whore just from his cock and words alone. 

He grazed your clit with his fingertips again and you shouted, head hanging low in your embarrassment. “Yes! I l-liked it,” you practically wailed to the floor. Steve cooed appreciatively, voice laced with the tiniest amount of degradation, but didn’t speed up his thrusts and you wanted to throw something.

“Yes what, baby?” he asked pointedly, the hand not teasing your clit to insanity coming up to turn your head up and back to catch his eyes. 

You moaned, feeling the weight of your belly shift with his thrusts, his fingers holding your pleasure so neatly just beyond your reach as they ghosted over your nub, his eyes demanding you lay your soul bare for him, give yourself completely over to his will. 

“Yes, daddy,” you whispered, tears springing to your eyes at the way rolling shivers of pleasure rippled through you at saying those words, at being made to say those words, to him, while he held your gaze with his stare. 

He growled, eyes holding yours in a tight grip as his hips finally picked up speed, rapidly increasing to the pounding he did before, slamming against that spot inside you you could never reach yourself. 

“Good girl,” he growled, his fingers pressing to your clit, rubbing fast circles and you whined in almost alarm at the pace of which your orgasm welled up inside you. Your whole body tensed up, pussy squeezing Steve’s cock to the point of pain and he gasped. Your orgasm exploded inside you, pulling Steve right over the edge with you. 

“Fuck, just like that. Here it comes, baby,” he gritted out and then you felt the hot flush of his cum shooting inside you, his cock pulsing unevenly as he fucked himself through it, never slowing down. You knew what he was aiming at. 

Completely unable to stop him or yourself, your belly and the weight of both yourself and him pushing down and the way his cock kept ramming you in your post-orgasm sensitivity had you wailing as another string snapped. You squirted, a huge gush that exploded from you and coated both your thighs and Steve’s before splattering to the floor. 

Your body convulsed, only held up by Steve’s strong arms as your mind short-circuited from the pleasure, eyes glued to the sight of your juices wetting the floor below you. 

Something had changed in Steve since that first time he fed from you and fucked you at the same time, a tether snapping. He no longer even tried to control his desire, his demand for your body, your mind, your entire being. He was, in a word, unhinged. His hands practically never left you, always stroking, groping, gripping, rubbing, smacking your ass lightly and pinching your seemingly perpetually peaked and sensitive nipples playfully, smirking like a cat at the way you shivered. The touches would range from light, reverend grazes, like he just needed to reassure himself you were there, and possessive, tight squeezes, like he couldn’t handle not being inside you a moment longer. He usually didn’t wait long before pushing your dress up, tugging your panties off or just to the side and sheathing himself inside you with a brutish grunt. You, in turn, were so swollen and aching and needy - you couldn’t stop him even if you wanted to. You needed him, needed his cock, needed him to push you against the nearest surface, keep you there while he took the edge off for the both of you - until your hormones sent the both of you into a frenzy again. 

Later in the evening, Steve had you riding him on the couch. It had started as a lower back massage, but they rarely stayed that way nowadays. Steve was as insatiable as you, and along those first times, your enthusiasm had loosened his tongue. Now he couldn’t seem to keep his praise in, making you flush hot or preen or go all shy from the filth that spewed from him. 

“Yes, that’s it baby, ride that cock, take what’s yours. You want my cum, baby? Want to milk my cock while I milk you?” he asked on a gasp as you bounced on him as good as you could with your belly rounded, still shiny from the oil he’d rubbbed into it earlier. He bent forward and took one of your leaking nipples into his mouth, his cock throbbing inside you as he fed from you while looking up into your eyes through his thick, long lashes. 

“Fuck,” you gasped as he groaned, the vibrations going through your tender flesh, and sweat covered your brow as you spasmed on his cock, pussy helplessly clamping down. Steve gasped away from your breast, your milk leaking out and soaking his beard as he bent up to kiss you with a mouthful of milk. He seemed to like feeding it back to you, making out while the sweet taste of it lingered between you, completely obliterating any line of decency, sending you head first into heady depravity in that same possessive way he’d always done.

“Here it comes, baby, make sure to keep it all in for daddy,” Steve murmured against your lips before he came, and you were helpless against the lewdness of the new nickname he’d given himself, and how much you secretly liked it. You came with a cry along with him, his thumbs slowly teasing your sensitive nipples, just lingering there, covered in white milk. 

You were floating on the heady cloud of pleasure Steve kept around you at all times. Really, you had nothing else to do all day but wait for your pregnancy to advance, and you both seemed content to just fuck all day, every day. You wondered if Steve missed his job, missed the outside world. You didn’t, had stopped longing for it once Steve had made you see that the only safe thing to do was to be with him. You had everything you needed with him, anything you could want for. Steve loved and took care of you, the mansion provided every piece of food, clothing and entertainment you could wish for. Honestly, if there was anything you were desperate for, it was not to go back to those early days where all you’d been was obsessive, desperate and miserable. Once you saw the only path away from that was with Steve, you’d accepted it, and then the fog of pleasure he’d thrust upon you had wiped out any resistance. 

Steve fucked you everywhere. Under the trees in the garden, mouthing his way down your chest, taking each nipple into his mouth and laving them in generous licks before kissing his way down your rounded belly, stroking it tenderly while kissing it over and over like he just couldn’t believe it was there. It was heady and intense, this obsession with your bump, and you almost felt overwhelmed by it, by the magnitude of his devotion, by how proud and primal it made him. Steve feasted on you. He groaned against your flesh, alternating between sucks and small, teasing licks until you came on his tongue before slipping his cock inside while you were still spasming, a possessive hand on your belly as he rutted deep inside you. 

He fucked you in the shower, joining you in the morning and teasing you to delirium, tweaking your nipples until they were tender and erect, rutting his cock against your lower back until you bucked back against him, slipped a finger down to tease your ass as he thrust into your weeping cunt, drawing orgasm after orgasm from you while whispering filthy nothings into your sensitive ear and made you call him daddy.

You’d catch him watching you with darkened eyes as you waddled along, a hand on your aching lower back, and you’d be all too aware of his keen eyes as you carefully lowered yourself into a chair or the sofa with a groan. Seeing your body changing to adapt to your growing belly seemed to ignite this primal hunger in him, and his hungry stare would in turn ignite shivers on your skin, your own arousal awakening to meet his. He’d ambush you in the hall and go down on you while you leaned against the wall, your moans echoing into the grand staircase. 

“So wet for me, doll. Are you this wet for me?” he’d ask, hot breath gusting over your clit, and all you could do was nod, tugging on his hair to bring his face back to your puffy pussy. 

You welcomed it all. Craved it all. Spent less and less time in clothing, spent more time initiating touches with him. A hand on his chest as you passed him in the kitchen, a brush of fingers over his as you passed him your empty teacup, a deliberate press of your toes against his bulge as he massaged your feet. Anything to incite the desire that welled inside him like a feral tidal wave. Giggling when he gave you that downright hungry gaze before pouncing on you, pressing you into the cushions as much as was comfortable for your bump before peppering your neck with kisses, groaning what a tempting little siren you were.

You didn’t know how much time passed like that - in this pleasure limbo with Steve, where all you did was fuck, eat, sleep and occasionally monitor your pregnancy symptoms. You had one more appointment with Dr. Banner in the clinical office set up in the basement, where he declared you healthy and stable like before. Steve preened and squeezed your hand, all proud and pleased, his other hand stroking lovingly on your bump. Your bloodwork came back with interesting results too, but you understood none of it. Steve reassured you all you needed to know was that everything looked fine - better than fine. You were in tip-top shape and the baby was strong and healthy. 

You’d grown to like stroking your bump yourself now, your hand going there of its own accord. It was hard not to get fond of it with the way Steve doted on it, the way he loved you for it, so sweet and reverent, nothing like the harsh and dominating way he’d sometimes been in the past. There hadn’t been any movement in your belly yet, but you trusted it would come soon, a part of you hoping Steve would be there when you first felt that kick. A part of you started to wonder just what life would be like once the child was born. 

Life in the mansion mellowed out to a hazy, pleasure-filled dream, the days melting together even as you passed your seven months milestone of the pregnancy. It hit you that even if you gave birth now, the child would probably survive. When you’d told Steve he’d kissed you soundly, grinning from ear to ear while telling you it’d probably survived a lot earlier than this, considering it was his baby. You found yourself swatting his arm reproachfully for his cockiness, but couldn’t contain your smile as he laughed and insinuated his face into the crook of your neck to kiss your skin, pulling you closer to him so your bump was firmly pressed against his chiseled torso, warm and snug. 

Though Steve was adamant you get enough sleep, you would sometimes find yourself awakening in the middle of the night to him kissing down your body, hungry and heady. You never complained, you were so fucking horny all the time it didn’t take long before you were keening needily for him, writhing on the sheets as he licked and sucked at your pussy. Tonight was one of those nights, and the moonlight cast a silvery blue light on the calm bedroom as Steve kissed over your bump, broad hands lifting it, helping you turn to lay on your back so he could get in between your thighs. You sighed, arousal welling up like a wave inside you, slow and sluggish and pulsing languidly as he pressed his face to your mound and started licking your clit teasingly. 

Breathy sounds escaped you as you lay there, half-asleep still, riding the pleasant sensations coursing along in your veins. Time slipped away from you in these dreamlike hours, and you were getting into it, moving your hips as much as you could to help create friction on your needy parts when Steve’s head unexpectedly and abruptly disappeared from your wet cunt. Thinking he was teasing you, you lifted your hips in search of his mouth when his hand on your hips stilled you, hard and urgent.

A ping of alarm set off in the back of your mind, and you opened your eyes to peer down. Steve was on his knees in the bed, head turned towards the open doors to the bedroom, so still it was almost like he was a statue. Something was off.

“Ste-” you started to ask, but was cut off by him turning his head and lifting a finger to press to his lips, eye stark and wide in the silence of the night. You could hear nothing but your own breathing. 

Steve crawled up the bed to speak close to your ear, and you were astonished by the fact that he made no sound whatsoever, his limbs in the sheets didn’t even seem to make any noise. Distant questions of Steve’s profession whispered in the far expanses of your mind, questions you hadn’t pondered in months. 

“Stay here, don’t make a sound, I’ll be right back,” he whispered in your ear. You nodded, a kernel of fear catching on fire in your chest. It wasn’t like you could run very well in this condition. You remembered that first night he’d appeared in your apartment, the wound on his shoulder, how he said he’d gotten it from some man with a sword. 

Steve got out of the bed, only clad in a pair of gray boxer shorts and padded on soundless, bare feet to the door, peered subtly out into the hallway and then disappeared. 

Your heart was a rapidly growing thump in your chest and you lay as frozen as you could, listening and listening, straining to hear even a single thing in the dead silent night. 

Then the sound of an explosion sounded from the far side of the mansion, and all at once, the sound of shouts, gunshots, wood breaking and glass shattering filled the air. The blood in your veins turned to ice as sudden, unexpected fear spread in your body. It was happening on the lower floor, but you still felt the sudden panic of danger like a clammy film on your skin, constricting the air around you til you couldn’t breathe properly. Steve told you to wait here, to keep quiet, but as more explosions and larger sounds of shouting sounded, you found yourself propelled out of the bed, movements slow and halting as you moved with your heavily pregnant body. You were completely naked, and as you padded over to grab your robe from the hook near the bathroom door and slung it on, a booming sound of helicopter blades whipping the air appeared quicker than should’ve been possible. 

Then the room was flooded with harsh light, and you whirled around to see several bright spots of light outside the window across the room, whipping to the bed before moving around the room. You knew instantly you needed to move, to not let those searching lights find you, and instinct had you bolting through the bathroom and into the hallway through the separate door. Just as you entered the hallway, the sound of splintering and exploding glass sounded from you and Steve’s bedroom and you had to cover your mouth with your hand to not scream in terror. 

You needed to hide, or find Steve, but from the sounds of commotion still coming from the first floor, it sounded like he was occupied fighting several people at once. You ran up the corridor and slipped into the closet at the end, right by the staircase, cramming inside with an array of coats and suit jackets. Your breathing was out of control, heaving, wet, raspy sounds as you fought back tears, your heartbeat in your ears. 

Who were these people? Why were they doing this? 

You heard footsteps pounding down the hall along with shouting voices. You couldn’t hear them clearly, but caught someone telling another that there was “someone here with the target”. You tried to remember if their searching lights had hit you before you ran into the bathroom, but no, they’d had to have seen your clothes or something. Had they come for Steve, then? Why?   

Footsteps descended the staircase and you took in a shaky breath, mind fighting the way you threatened to freeze up in terror. You were safe here, they hadn’t seen you. You just needed to wait it out until Steve took them out. There were so many of them, though, and your legs almost fell out from under you at the thought of Steve not making it. How could you possibly make it on your own then? Terrorizing thoughts filled your mind, of ending up alone after all you’ve been through, alone on the streets, or worse, kidnapped and used for experimentation for the child in your womb - your child. 

Suddenly the door to the closet was wrenched open, and you came face to face with a figure clad in stealth gear, face entirely masked but for his eyes, dark and glaring, massive gun in his hands. He made to grab at you before his eyes shifted down and widened. He staggered back a tiny step as he beheld your pregnant belly, and your hands came up instinctively to cradle it, as if you could protect it that way. 

“G forty eight,” the figure said, still staring down at your body, “found another subject. Woman. P-pregnant, sir,” he said, and there was a tiny tremor in his voice that you didn’t like, like he was pleading for something. 

You stood there frozen staring at him as he listened for whatever answer would come in what you assumed was an earpiece of some kind. But as he made to grab you, grip so tight it hurt around your plump, upper arm, your fight reflex kicked in and you shoved at his chest with everything you had, a small shout of “no” escaping your lips. 

To your utter astonishment, the figure flew back from the force of your shove, clean off his feet and then right down the grand staircase. Your eyes widened to the point of pain as you stood, stunned, and watched his limp form sprawled lifeless at the foot of the stairs. 

Had you done that?

You had no more time to ponder what had just happened. Movement in your peripheral vision had your head whipping to see another masked figure clad in stealth gear appear from your bedroom, running towards you. You had nowhere to run but down the stairs, and on slow, naked feet, you started the descent, for you knew whatever you did, you could not let them get their hands on you. Maybe if you got to the garden you could hide in the abundant shrubberies and hidden pathways. You knew them by heart, and could easily navigate even in the dark of night. 

But as you got to the foot of the stairs and started across the floor towards the living room, you were stopped dead in your tracks by the sight of Steve, still only clad in boxers, fighting two masked strangers at once. He landed a brutal punch to the jaw of one, and you could hear the crunch of bone from where you stood several meters away. Steve turned and kicked the other man in the knee, and your head spun as you saw the knee crack back at an unnatural angle, the man wailing in pain. Steve turned to the other one and grabbed his arm, twisting it clean around without even seeming to try and then threw the man into the nearest wall. The wall had a dent in it as the man slid lifeless to the ground. Steve’s face didn’t even flinch as he dealt all this carnage, his face a smooth mask of calm concentration, and you could feel your stomach churning to a knot as you watched, eyes glued to your man, your sweet, loving, doting man, completely obliterating these strangers, dealing injuries they would probably live with for the rest of their lives. Your blood started roaring in your ears, the room spinning slightly from the onslaught of what you witnessed. 

As Steve went to grab the man with the broken knee, a hand clasped around your arm, breaking you out of your frozen state of observation, and you were pushed down. You slid to your knees, the marble hard under your kneecaps as you cried out more in fear than pain. The man pulled a gun from the belt at his waist and pointed it at you and your life flashed before your eyes, your lungs completely deflating, unable to pull in even an ounce of breath in a sensation of petrified fright you’d never felt before. A sound somewhere between a wail and a whimper left you. 

“Stop or else she gets it,” the man shouted. 

You blinked your eyes, trying to get them to focus, and found Steve, splattered in blood, fists clenched at his sides, staring at the man above you with a sort of menace that had cold shivers running down your sides, sending your instincts into a frenzy. There was death in those eyes. Stone cold, calculated, immovable death. 

The man with the broken knee staggered behind Steve, pulling out a sharp knife that glinted in the dim moonlight pouring in from the windows above the main doors behind you. Your eyes followed the movement, but then struggled to keep up as Steve turned, grabbed the man’s hand and turned it upwards to jab the knife into his own throat. You jolted at the impact, the gurgled gasp the man gave through the mask. Then, Steve moved quicker than humanly possible, and when you next registered his position, he had the man above you by the throat. 

The gun pointed at your head skidded across the floor away from you, and when you looked up, you were first met with the gnarled angles of the fingers on the hand the man had held the gun with. Then, as you raised your eyes, heart in your throat, you saw Steve wrench the knife out of the throat of the man. 

Hot blood jetted out of him and you felt it rain across your face and body in warm, soft splatters. Petrified, mind glossing over in terror, you couldn’t move an inch as Steve, eyes wide with a sort of feral, inhuman fury you’d never seen before, punched his hand into the open gash in the man’s throat, and with a roar, tore his head clean his shoulders with his bare hands. A shrill shriek tore itself from your throat.

A wave of blood spouted from where the man’s head had been and drenched over you, covering your hair, your face and running down between the open flaps of your robe to cover your naked form. You barely managed to close your eyes in time, but your mouth and nose were filled with the unmistakable, overwhelming taste and aroma of warm iron. 

Your mind stopped working then, shutting down completely in order not to take in more of the slaughter around you. Time slowed to the sluggish beats of your heart, and Steve’s voice was a far away thing as he called your name. He picked you up and carried you somewhere, but your mind couldn’t decipher where, your body numb and far away from you. Darkness closed around you. Your hands were cold. 

You didn’t realize Steve had locked you in the cupboard under the stairs before he wrenched it open some indiscernible time later and carefully picked you up and carried you up the stairs. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I needed to check if there were any more of them,” he murmured into your head as he carried you into the bathroom and sat you down on the edge of the bathtub before starting the water. 

“You hid me in the cupboard?” you heard yourself asking, though you couldn’t remember telling your mouth to move. 

“Yes.” 

“I tried hiding in the coat closet earlier,” you said, and your voice was a hoarse, timid thing, barely perceptible to yourself. 

Steve appeared before you, eyes gentle as he cupped your face in a hand. 

“You did? Well done, that was a clever thing to do, even though I told you to stay put,” he said. 

“They came in through the window,” you said. 

“I saw. We’ll put you in your own room tonight. But first we need to clean you. Can you stand for me?” he asked, so gentle compared to the brutal, animalistic way he’d dealt with the strangers, how he’d pulled…pulled the head…

You couldn’t finish that thought, only nodded as Steve helped you onto unsteady feet, peeled your soiled robe off you and guided the both of you into the shower. The blood washed off you, coloring the water a faint rusty hue before it whirled down the drain. 

After, Steve lowered you into the bathtub, gently scrubbing your shoulders with a loofa. He didn’t get into it himself and you realized first later that he was probably on alert in case anyone else showed up. No one did, the night was eerily quiet again. 

When Steve had you dressed in a silky nightgown and put you to bed in your old bedroom, the sheets cool and soothing on your skin, you found your voice again. 

“The baby is okay,” you whispered, cradling your belly in your hands again. 

Steve stroked your hair and smiled gently at you. 

“I know. You told me earlier.”

“I did?” You couldn’t remember having said anything about the baby, though your belly felt completely normal, settled and calm, a sturdy weight on your front compared to the way the rest of your body seemed like frayed fringes of nerves and flesh flapping on an invisible wind. 

“Yes, right after. You probably don’t remember since you’re in shock right now,” he said, before sitting down on the floor next to the bed and grasping your hand in his. “I promise I will never let anybody come that close to hurting you again. I’m gonna hunt down anybody that even tries, and gut them. No one will hurt you. Ever. Not as long as I’m around,” he vowed, and the way his eyes shone with a feral intent, so intense you nearly broke away from the eye contact, told you he wasn’t kidding.

Dark unconsciousness took you without contemplation, sucking down your frail mind and numb body to sleep. When you awoke, Steve was sitting on the bed, fully clad. The bright light of the sun in the room told you it was day, and when your mind came to completely, you heard the milling of voices all throughout the house. You jolted instinctively, but Steve’s hand on your shoulder halted you from bolting from the bed. 

“No, sweets, it’s okay. They’re friends, colleagues, here to investigate,” Steve said calmly, and your hand came up to cling to him as you tried to steady your rapidly beating heart. “We’re moving. To a safer place,” Steve explained further, and then movement by the door caught your eye. 

A man, as tall as Steve and as bulky if not more so, with dark, shoulder-length hair and a faint stubble on his chin, stepped into the room. He smiled politely at you and inclined his head at Steve. His eyes were blue, soft and kind as they looked back at you. 

“Y/N, this is my friend Bucky,” Steve said gently, “he’s gonna be helping us out.”

#in the balance #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers smut #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x you #dark!steve rogers x y/n #dark!steve rogers fanfiction #dark!steve rogers fanfic #dark!steve rogers smut #soft!dark steve rogers x reader #soft!dark! stever rogers fanfiction #soft!dark! steve rogers fanfic #soft!dark!steve rogers smut

[nickfowlerrr]

trust me -

chapter one

series masterlist / chapter two

pairing: stucky x curvy!reader (dark!steve/soft!dark steve and bucky/soft!dark bucky)

warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. smut. non consensual voyeurism. mentions of paranoia and anxiety. light hair pulling. mention of overstimulation. m masturbation. unprotected sex. +18 ONLY. (if i’m missing something important pls let me know!)

words: 5.7k

notes: the smut is atrocious i apologize in advance 💀 i’m really excited for this series - i hope you guys are too! as always, feedback and comments are welcome and appreciated! thank you for reading 🖤

“Steve?” your voice fell into the quiet surrounding you as you called out into the dark, turning to look behind you, though you weren’t sure you wanted to know what may have been waiting. Worry and fear coursing through your veins as you could have sworn you heard footsteps coming up from behind. Panicking internally, you didn’t know if you should freeze or turn back around and run as fast as you could manage. After a second, you found yourself doing neither, instead taking a small step forward, in the direction of the noise you heard, in the opposite direction you had been heading.

Why? You didn’t know. Maybe deep down, you were hoping it was him. To finally put an end to all of this. Maybe you had some sort of death wish.

But no, you weren’t suicidal. A masochist, maybe.

Or maybe you just couldn’t really believe it was him. It couldn’t be. You were so careful.

You had been so careful.

Taking another step, you held your breath as you tried to squint into the darkness. You couldn’t see anything. There was nothing to see. You were alone. Of course you were alone.

You were paranoid as anxiety ate at you. You spun around and continued forward into the pitch black night, only trees surrounding you as you tried to orient yourself in the thick forest you found yourself in. You had made sure not to bring a lot with you. You were armed only with your backpack, the clothes on your back, shoes on your feet, and the biggest jug of water you could find at the house.

You’d removed all devices you had previously had on you, left your tactsuit behind, too. You didn’t know what had trackers and what didn’t. You didn’t know what to trust so you left nearly everything behind.

Did you have any clue where you were going? No. But you knew you had to go somewhere. You had to get out of there. You had to get away from him. From them, you forced yourself to correct the thought.

It had been two weeks since you had been sent on a solo recon mission. It was easy. Simple. Safe. Or it was supposed to be, at least.

It was also highly confidential. Steve had given you specific instructions as to what you could discuss, nearly nothing, and who you could tell about your assignment, essentially no one. It seemed like it was only him and Bucky who were in the loop at the time and though you were iffy on not keying Stark in, Steve assured you it was for the best. That everyone who needed to know would know when the time came.

And he wouldn’t even tell you the whole story. That should have been your sign to know that something was up. The second he called you in, you just knew something was off. He was acting so differently. Everything in you was telling you that something wasn’t right, but you ignored the feeling. You were known to be a bit..overly cautious. It was something you were working on. And of course the one time you decide to ignore your intuition, this would be the situation you find yourself in.

You had arrived at the safe house the night before you were set to head into the small, unsuspecting European town where the supposed “marks” were working. The more you thought on your assignment, the less sense it made. You tried to brush it off, tried convincing yourself it was the lack of information you were given that was making things seem as unclear as they were. And who were you to question the Captain America? You were still fairly new to being in the field, still recovering from your last mission..from the attack. You were in no place to question anything right now, and certainly not from the man who helped save your life mere weeks ago. He trusted you with this assignment and you should be thanking him for getting you back out there, even if this assignment was a little too easy, it was more than you had to do lately. You just had to locate their base, take some pictures, and report back to Steve. It wasn’t complicated, and there was nothing to worry about..

Still, there was a nagging voice in your head and an odd feeling in your gut trying to tell you that something was wrong.

You made yourself a quick dinner with what you had found in the cupboards and the surprisingly well stocked and kept fridge. The house was certainly one of Tony’s better ones. It seemed like more of a vacation home with how nice it was. And though it was certainly in a more desolate, hard to find or access area, it was still gorgeous. You stared out the window while you ate, looking into the trees that surrounded the place. It was dark out. Still, serene. The view was captivating. But out of nowhere, you were taken out of your peaceful state and almost dropped the plate you were holding when you thought you saw someone outside.

It was a blur, but you could have sworn you saw a glimmer of, well you weren’t sure, but you swore you saw something. You were instantly on edge and grabbed your pistol as your eyes scanned all around the outside. You slowly approached the back door and shoved it open before stepping outside and checking the perimeter of the house. The coast was clear and you didn’t see or hear anything other than the insects and birds that were nearby. Walking back inside, you locked the door behind you and proceeded to check every window and the front and side doors to ensure they were locked as well. When you were satisfied, you cleaned up your small mess and decided on a shower to calm your nerves. Shaking your head at yourself, you sent a quick message to Steve to let him know you were at the safe house and would be heading into town the next morning. You threw your phone on the bed and as you pulled your shirt over your head, thought you heard a door squeaking open. As you shifted your feet, you heard the floor squeaking beneath you and chided yourself for being so jumpy for no reason.

You walked to the bathroom and started the water, letting it warm up as you continued to undress. Once you were done stripping, you got in and tried willing yourself to relax.

You were just about finished showering when you heard your phone going off. You finished up quickly, rinsing off and jumped out of the shower to grab it. You weren’t paying much attention to your surroundings and you didn’t see him waiting for you. Even if you had, though, there was no way you would have been able to escape him. He was too fast. Too strong. And he knew your weaknesses better than anyone.

The shriek you let out when his arms wrapped around your vulnerable body from behind you was piercing and utterly useless. Your hands instantly found him as his head fell to your shoulder while he laughed. You heavily exhaled your breath, shakily as you tried to ground yourself. The feeling of warmth and flesh under one hand and hard vibranium plates under the other, paired with the laughter you could recognize anywhere was like a bucket of cold water being thrown on you, but a relief and comfort in the same breath. You elbowed him in the ribs, but it did little to phase him.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he laughed. “I had to,”

“Yeah, that’s really fuckin’ funny, Bucky,” you bit. “Let go of me, jackass,” you huffed as you tried to struggle out of his arms, still completely naked and your body wet from the shower. He clearly couldn’t have cared less as his hold on you only tightened while you hit at him and he continued to laugh. As angry as you wanted to be, you felt you couldn’t. You hadn’t told him everything about the attack that night. He couldn’t have known how affected you really were by his little scare, how fucked up and unfunny it was to you. You were sure if he had known, he’d never have done it. In fact, you were sure he’d never have let you come out here by yourself in the first place if he knew. That’s part of the reason you had decided not to tell him the whole story. There was no point in worrying him over it.. Steve had said much the same when you were on your way home after it went down.

“Aw, you get scared so easily, don’t you, princess,” he said teasingly, clearly amused with himself.

“Bucky, let me go, seriously! I’m dripping wet,” you complained as you struggled away from him..

“I’m counting on it,” he responded smoothly as he spun you around and shoved you back, causing you to fall onto the bed before he crawled on top of you.

“What the hell are you even doing here? How did you get here?” you asked, annoyed, as you tried to roll out from under him.

“Steve sent me. There’s been a change of plans,” he said nonchalantly as he kept you exactly where he wanted you, eyes hungry as he drank you in and his hands ran up and down your soft skin.

“What change?” you muttered out as you writhed beneath him, his fingers tickling you as he brushed over your sensitive areas knowingly.

“Don’t know. He said he’ll fill us in when he gets here,” he said into your neck in between kisses.

“Wait, he’s coming here, too? That doesn’t seem..like, strange at all to you?” you asked as you again tried to get him off of you.

“I’m not worried,” he said coolly. “All he said was to meet you here, let you know that your assignment and mine are both on hold and that he’ll be here as soon as he can. We just have to stay put and wait. And there are certainly worse orders to follow and worse places to be locked down at. Trust me,” he said as he pulled away from you, only to move back in to kiss you.

“He’s not gonna be here until tomorrow night at the earliest. I can think of a lot of things we can do to kill the time,” he said against your skin. “And I missed you so much, baby,” he murmured.

“Missed you, too, Buck,” you replied weakly. You were tired and honestly still a little upset, maybe shaken was the better word, but you didn’t want to talk about it. Or think about it for that matter. Instead you found yourself pulling him closer to you by his hair. You stared into his eyes, trying to reassure yourself of your safety. You had nothing to worry about, especially not with Bucky here. After a moment, you pulled him into another kiss.

Bucky was back on top of you, letting his hands wander wherever they pleased, taking full advantage of your lack of clothing.

“Buck,” you breathed.

“Hm?” he hummed against your skin. You moved to sit up and he backed off slightly, helping you. You were now propped up against the pillows, making yourself comfortable before you moved to spread your legs around him, putting your entire body on display for him. His eyes glided down your body before they dropped down to your glistening pussy and he groaned at the sight, letting his hands glide down your body until they reached the top of your thick thighs, squeezing the supple flesh of your hips.

“Take your clothes off,” you told him wantingly.

Bucky wasted no time in doing exactly that while you looked on, admiring the flex of his muscles as he removed his clothing. He was right back on you in the blink of an eye, wearing a smirk that could kill.

“Say no more,” he simpered as you laughed before he kissed you once again. Deep and loving and exactly what you needed. He pulled away from you, his blue eyes dark, breathing heavier as he slowly made his way down your body, taking time to lavish kisses and lovebites to every inch of skin he could.

You moaned when he took a nipple in his mouth, suckling on you while his hand played with your other breast, tugging and pulling at your nipple, causing you to wince at his touch. His hands slid down your tummy and returned to your hips, pulling you closer to him before he placed soft kisses all over your stomach, paying special attention to your marks and scars while you let your head fall back and your eyes shut in pleasure, your fingers winding themselves into his hair. He made his way lower until his lips were on your clit, instantly causing you to moan out as he sucked.

His tongue darted out past his lips, licking at you expertly before he moved further down, bringing his left hand to your entrance. Using his thick fingers to rub at you, he smeared your wetness around before he pumped two fingers inside of you.

“You’re so fucking wet, princess,” he admired. “You miss me?” he asked tauntingly.

“Mhm,” you nodded desperately, fingers tugging at his hair, urging him back to where you needed him to be. “So much.”

“Good,” he said before moving his fingers deeper inside of you until you cried out as he was curling against you perfectly. He let you have your way as his soft lips returned to your clit, sucking harsher than he had before, tongue teasing you as he fucked you on his vibranium fingers. You were a mess of moans and whimpers as he played you so easily. You were clenching down on his fingers the closer he brought you to your orgasm, and he had you begging for him to make you come. It wasn’t long after that he had you crying his name and tugging his hair to get him to stop the overstimulation. He pulled away from you, licking his lips as he looked at you like you were an angel sent from heaven above.

“I’ll never get enough of you, you know that?” he said, gently removing his fingers from you and bringing them to his lips, sucking them clean while you stared at him, mouth agape. He leaned back over you and crashed his lips into yours, the taste of yourself on his tongue had you keening as you pulled him closer.

“I love you,” you breathed against his lips.

“I love you more,” he rasped before finding your lips again, his arms wrapping under you, hugging you to him. You could feel his hard length against your thigh, throbbing when you gently nipped at his lip and let your hand wander down his torso softly before your fingers delicately teased his cock. His eyes squeezed shut, his pink lips parting as he let out a sharp exhale, letting you do as you please.

You stroked his cock as you peppered kisses down his throat. Taking your time and relishing the sounds of pleasure spilling from his lips, raining praises down on you and moaning your name. You were smearing his precum around the head of his cock, pumping him faster, when he cursed, sounding like your touch burned him. You couldn’t help your little smirk when he nearly whimpered as you let go of his length.

“Please, baby,” Bucky choked out, looking at you with pleading, ocean blue eyes.

You flipped around, forcing Bucky to do the same so he was against the pillows now and you were above him, eyes locked on his, blue swimming in lust and need, you were sure yours looked much the same. You held his face in your hands, pulling him to you, noses brushing when you kissed him with everything you had to give. Trying to get across how badly you needed him, too. Though his arrival was unexpected to say the least, you couldn’t have been more grateful to have him here.

You always felt safe with him, you knew you were safe with him. And that’s what you needed, after everything. You needed Bucky. You’d spent all of a few hours with him the past week and you didn’t realize how badly you’d been missing him. He finally pulled away from your kiss, his hands finding your face in return, eyes full of concern now as he searched your face.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he cooed, voice gentle, wanting to ease you, but commanding enough to get you to meet his gaze.

“Nothing,” you breathed, shaking your head. “Nothing’s wrong. I just- I’ve really missed you,” you deflected. You almost felt bad for not telling him everything, knowing he’d want to know, but you weren’t fully lying to him, either. You really had missed him. “I need you, Bucky.” you mewled, lowering yourself down onto him, grinding your ass against his cock, earning a pained moan from him that turned into a hiss.

“I know, baby. I know,” he told you. “I need you, too,” he panted, moving your hips back so that his cock was better positioned at your entrance. He slid his dick against your pussy, up and down, as his head nudged deliciously at your sensitive clit. You couldn’t help yourself and started moving against him, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through you. You sat higher up, kneeling over him now. You gripped his thick length and positioned him at your slick opening before slowly sliding down on him, moaning out at the instant stretch as Bucky gripped your wide hips, his rough hands moving to knead your ample ass, relishing the feeling of your tight cunt squeezing him.

You began riding his dick, slow and achingly for both of you. You couldn’t get enough of the feeling of him inside of you, the nudging of your clit against him with each grind of your hips. Bucky’s hands moved up to your chest, squeezing your heavy breasts in his hands before he leaned up and buried his face in them, licking and kissing your nipples, being encouraged by the way your walls squeezed him even tighter at the sensation. When he pulled away from your chest, he pulled your face down to his, pulling on your hair to do so. His lips crashed into yours heatedly. He gripped your hips once again, taking control of your motions now, and thrusting up into your tight heat. You cried out at his first few thrusts, the sound muffled by his tongue exploring your mouth. He didn’t let up and you soon found yourself grinding back onto him, meeting his every thrust. His hands slid up your back, holding you while he continued fucking up into you, the sound of your flesh slapping against his with every thrust and your moans and cries mingling with Bucky’s grunts and pants filling the room.

“You’re so fucking good, baby. Such a good girl,” he praised through heavy breaths. “You take my cock so well.”

You mewled again at his words and found yourself on your back in a heartbeat as Bucky flipped you both over again. Your legs instinctivelly wrapped around him as he fucked into you, hitting so deep. You felt near dazed, drunk of the high of him, you swore you could see stars. The glide of his thick cock inside you was overwhelming, bordering on too much to handle. You didn’t think you’d be able to hold your orgasm if you tried. “I’m so close,” you whispered. “Mm, ‘m gonna come, Bucky, I’m gonna come.” you crooned.

“Come for me, princess. Wanna feel you squeeze me, baby. Let go for me,” he coaxed as he rocked his hips against you, the motion stimulating your clit. That was the last little bit you needed to push you over the edge, to let go completely. You came with a shout, crying at the sheer euphoria, legs tightening around him as you did.

The grip you had on his cock had Bucky coming almost immediately after you, which let you know he had been close for a while and fought off his own orgasm to ensure you came first, like he always did. Your pleasure was always his number one priority. He made it well known to you from the very first time you slept together, and every time thereafter.

You felt like you were in heaven, Bucky’s heavy body atop you, your hands running soothingly up and down his back as you both came down from your highs, his head buried in your neck, both of you trying to calm your breathing. After a few minutes of lying there, Bucky tenderly pulled out of you, placing a kiss on your forehead as he got up from the bed and moved into the bathroom. You heard the sink run for a second and Bucky was back before you a moment later. He gently cleaned you up with a damp rag and then himself before he settled back down on the mattress. You smiled lazily at him as he pulled you into his arms. You laughed at nothing, just the feeling of happiness bubbling its way out past your lips as you nuzzled into his chest, his warmth surrounding you as he pulled the comforter around your intertwined bodies.

“That was really good,” you sighed.

“That was amazing,” he grinned in return.

“You’re always amazing,” you told him, looking up to meet his eyes, needing him to know how sincere you were.

“Such a sweet talker,” he laughed at you, causing you to smile in turn. You rested your head against his chest again as his hands now ran soothingly up and down your back.

“I’ve missed this. I feel like we haven’t had any time together lately. I’ve missed just being with you, ya know?” you murmured.

He hummed in response, placing a kiss a top your head.

“I know. I’ve missed it, too. But we’re gonna have time together now. No missions to get in the way, nothing to worry about.”

“Until Steve gets here,” you responded glumly.

“We’ll still have each other when he does,” he reminded you. “It’ll be nice, all of us getting to spend time with each other.” You furrowed your brow as you took in his words..

“Working isn’t really the same thing as spending time together,” you argued.

“No, I just meant, you know none of us have really seen each other much lately..” he tried to explain. You didn’t really get what he was saying, but didn’t want to start an argument over nothing.

“Okay,” you allowed. “I just meant that I miss you. Alone time with you. Just you.”

Bucky looked at you, eyes filled with something akin to guilt. “It’s okay, though. We’re both busy, it’s not like it’s your fault,” you wanted to assure him, ease any sense of guilt he might have had.

He smiled weakly, kissing your forehead again, holding you a little tighter.

“This’ll be good for us,” he whispered into your hair. It was only going to be a day you’d have alone with each other, but you figured he was right, it would be good for you both. Might as well make the most of what time you had together before Steve arrived and you were back to focusing on the mission. Whatever it really was…

The rest of your first night at the safe house was spent entirely wrapped around Bucky. Your cuddling turned into making out that turned into soft cockwarming that inevitably turned into sex, again and again. He showered you with his love and sweet words, drowning you in his affection. Making sure you knew how much he’d missed you. How much he cared for you. You weren’t sure what time it was that you eventually fell asleep, but it was well into the early hours of morning.

Your lack of sleep, however, had no effect on your alarm. It was nearing 8:30 when you begrudgingly forced yourself to get up, prying Bucky’s arms from around you in order to do so. You had showered last night but that clean feeling was long gone now. You knew you smelled like sex and sweat and you were sure the sheets and blankets did, too. You made a mental note to wash them as soon as Bucky got up, figuring he’d sleep for a little while longer. That wasn’t the case, you realized as his hand grabbed yours when you moved to walk away from the bed. You looked back at him and his eyes were still bleary with sleep as he tugged at you.

“Where you going?” he asked, voice thick with sleep.

“To shower,” you said quietly, running your free hand through his messy bed head.

He groaned before he let go of your hand and propped himself up. “I’ll join you.”

An hour later you were toweling off and putting your clothes for the day on as Bucky took the bedding to the washer. The very expensive washer. You made a comment about how upscale this safe house was compared to what you’d had to stay in before, how it seemed more like a vacation home instead. Bucky just let out a light, awkward laugh, “Seems that way.” Weirdly avoiding looking at you as he grabbed the comforter off the floor and went to the laundry room.

You watched him as he left, curious, but choosing to focus on finishing getting ready.

If you let yourself think too long about why you were here in the first place, you started to get a little ancy, bordering on paranoid - like you often did. But knowing that Bucky wasn’t concerned or worried helped quell those feelings. You trusted him and his instincts, so if he didn’t think much of it, you knew it was probably all in your head.

It didn’t take much longer to finish up in the bedroom, and you headed to the kitchen. You walked in on Bucky on the phone, when he saw you he seemed to cut the conversation short with a, “fine, we’ll see you when you get here.”

“Steve?” you asked as you moved further into the room.

“Yeah. He’s gonna be here around eight,” he responded, running a hand through his hair.

“Did he say anything?”

“About what?” he asked, looking at you.

“The mission? Like, what we’re doing out here in the middle of nowhere, not telling anyone what we’re doing or why,” you said, growing agitated at the feeling of being in the dark in regards to whatever was going on.

“Don’t stress, sweetheart. He’s gonna tell us all about it tonight. Let’s make breakfast,” he said, wanting to get your mind off of things.

“That’s another thing,” you started, not wanting to let this go so easily. “This place is fully stocked with perishables, don’t you think that’s odd?”

“Baby, your mission has been planned for two weeks. Steve probably had a contact bring stuff over before you got here so you’d have edible food.”

“But I was only supposed to stay here one night, two tops,” you returned. “There’s enough food to last at least four people for a good week or two.”

“Maybe someone was supposed to be coming in after you. You’re not the only agent in the world, ya know?” he tried to joke, but his brushing off of your thoughts rubbed you the wrong way. You decided to go outside, clear your head hopefully.

“I’m gonna go walk around for a bit,” you said.

Bucky was in front of you in a flash, blocking your way.

“You can’t,” was all he said.Your eyes narrowed as you looked up at him.

“I can’t?” you repeated, growing more annoyed.

“No. I’m sorry, I didn’t wanna worry you, but Steve said we need to lay low. No comings or goings until he’s here.”

“Bucky, what the fuck is going on?” you asked, exasperated.

“We’ll figure it out when Steve gets here, okay? I promise.” He reached out to rub your arm, but you shrugged back, avoiding his touch. Eyes hard as you examined his face intently, your eyes searching his.

“I know you know something, Bucky.” You stated, not an ounce of doubt in your voice.

“Baby, please. Just trust me.” He said, almost pleading, but with the subtle hint of authority his voice naturally held. You swallowed the lump in your throat at that. Willing yourself to calm down. You did trust him. With everything you had, you trusted him.

You stepped closer and took his face in your hands, making direct eye contact, gazing into the deep blues of his eyes, making sure he was fully seeing you and hearing you before you spoke.

“You know I trust you. Please don’t give me a reason not to.”

He was looking right back at you as he nodded his head and you slipped your hands from his face, taking a step back from him. “Okay, then,” you huffed. “Make me pancakes or something.”

His face brightened instantly as he smiled at you, looking relieved. “Your wish is my command,” he replied smoothly.

You tried to let the gnawing feeling that something wasn’t right go, but it was still there in the back of your mind. You cooked and ate with Bucky at your side before you set to wash the dishes as he went back to the laundry room to put the bedding in the dryer.

You met back up in the living room, deciding on a movie to pass the time as you cozied up with him under the throw blanket. The day passed a lot quicker than you had hoped it would, knowing your alone time would come to an end soon. It’s not like you didn’t enjoy being around Steve, you did, you’d just been away from Bucky for so long you wanted to stay in your own little bubble with him for as long as you could. This little glimpse into what domestic life with Bucky would be like made your heart soar and had you looking to the future with brighter eyes than you had before. You made lunch together then cleaned up and found yourselves getting lost in one another again as Bucky had you up against the counter, pushing his weight into you as you kissed each other greedily. He spun you around and bent you over the counter top, slipping his joggers down and your sweats down right after. Your toes were barely touching the floor with each thrust Bucky made into you. Your hips would be sore later from the harsh pounding against the wood, but the pleasure lighting through you had you not caring in the slightest. If you had been paying more attention to your surroundings, if your eyes hadn’t been squeezed shut in ecstasy as Bucky took you from behind, maybe you would have taken notice of the little surveillance camera that was hidden across the room, pointed right at you.

On a quinjet about five hours away, Steve watched as you came undone on Bucky’s cock. He couldn’t resist from pulling himself out of his pants as he looked on, slowly pumping his own stiff cock, desperately wanting to know how it’d feel if it was your hands stroking him, or your mouth sucking him dry, or your cunt wrapped around him as he fucked you. He was cursing and growling as he pumped himself faster and tighter, watching as Bucky carried you to the couch, positioning you perfectly, giving him the best view of you as you and Bucky started round two. He could hear your moans and cries along with Bucky’s panting and dirty talk while he got himself off. As he continued watching Bucky fuck you, he finally let himself go when you came for the third time, Bucky following shortly after. He cursed under his breath, regaining his breathing as he cleaned his mess and zipped his pants back up. Letting out a heavy sigh as he looked on at Bucky kissing you adoringly, you cuddling into him. He couldn’t wait until that was him, too. Until he was there with you, showering you with all the affection he’s had to keep to himself - and Bucky on the rare occasion they had any time alone. When he wasn’t on a mission or training, he was with you. He tried hard not to resent him, he knew it was all part of the plan, but he was having a harder and harder time seeing you two together when he couldn’t have either of you the way he wanted.

He had been waiting so long to finally get you out there. To finally get his share of your affections. The last mission you were on was too close of a call. He almost lost it completely and that would’ve ruined everything. He hadn’t even told Bucky what really went down, just that he couldn’t keep waiting forever. Despite Bucky’s protest, claiming you still needed more time to get introduced to the idea, Steve went ahead with his plan anyway. Bucky might be a little pissed at him for this whole scheme, but it’d work out for all three of you in the end. He was sure of it. He really couldn’t wait any longer. He needed to be there. To be with you. Five hours. Just five more hours.

#trust me series #dark!stucky #dark!steve rogers #dark!bucky barnes #dark!stucky x reader #dark!bucky x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #soft!dark steve x reader #soft!dark bucky barnes x reader #soft!dark bucky x reader #soft!dark steve rogers x reader #soft!dark steve rogers #dark!stucky smut #dark!bucky smut #soft!dark bucky barnes smut #soft!dark bucky x curvy!reader #dark!bucky x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x curvy!reader #steve rogers x curvy!reader #dark!steve rogers x curvy!reader #soft!dark steve rogers x curvy reader #bucky barnes x plus size!reader #steve rogers x plus size reader #dark!steve x plus size!reader #soft!dark bucky x plus size!reader #dark!stucky x curvy!reader #dark!stucky x plus size!reader #plus size!reader #curvy!reader

[americasass81]

No Good Deed

Warnings:- Dark Themes Mentioned or Implied Include Consensual Non-Consensual Sex, Fingering, M & F Smut, Implied Breeding, Political Violence and Betrayal, Mentions of Nightmares and Trauma. Do not read if any of these warnings are upsetting. Feedback is welcomed.

By proceeding you are acknowledging that you are over 18 and are consenting to the content below the cut.

Author’s Note:- This is for @saiyanprincessswanienie 3.5k Followers Writing Challenge (Damn but this was a hard one). Congratulations Missy, you continue to amaze me with the kindness and friendship you so easily extend to any of us lucky enough to interact with you.  Forever grateful for all you do for this community and fandom, here’s to your next big follower milestone.  No one deserves it more than you. lyl💞💞

Challenge Prompt 24:- I miss your warmth.

Author’s Note 2:- As always, all images have been found through google search.

Pairing:- soft/dark!Steve Rogers x Reader

Synopsis:- Crossing paths with a recovering super soldier, just how much is your life likely to change?

Word Count:- 4,871

Walking carefully through the corridors so as not to impede the doctors, nurses and orderlies milling around the place while performing their life-saving duties, you nodded politely to the two heroes sitting talking together outside the bustling hospital room as you passed by to begin your daily visits.

Like most people in this particular hospital, you too had witnessed the chaos and upheaval caused by recent events.  But you had tried to steer clear of it.  Nothing against the agents, heroes or government law enforcement officers that had spent the last few weeks disturbing the peace of these sterile halls, but patients who ended up here had usually been through enough and the S.T.R.I.K.E. agents especially didn't give off a feeling of peace and safety.  Quite the opposite really.  Still this was neither your problem to solve then or apparently anyone else's to solve now.

Back now to what passed for a busy, yet smoothly running hospital, Sam Wilson and Natasha Romanoff were now the only reminder of the extraordinary events that had taken place within these walls.  At least outside of that particular hospital room anyway.  Behind the closed door where doctors finished up making Steve Rogers as comfortable as possible, the anticipation for news of his condition and the fallout from his actions still lingered in the air while his friends waited to finally be granted access to him.  But that was two days ago. 

Taking up residence now in the chair on the right side of the bed as Marvin Gaye's Trouble Man emanated from what looked like an ipod, Sam had hated to leave him alone.  The thought of Steve Rogers waking up alone once again without a human face to greet him for the second time in his short life didn't sit well with him, but his choices were sadly limited.  Given what had happened at the Potomac and the idiots in Washington baying for blood, his attention was currently needed to back up Natasha, which is how you ended up here.

Being a volunteer who gave up her free time to just sit with patients who had no one in this world to visit with them or simply give a few hours relief to a family member that had an errand they had to run or just needed a decent shower and nap in their own bed, the food, drinks and magazines you brought Sam had been greatly appreciated.  But nowhere near as appreciated as your attitude.  Having read about and admired Captain America since you were a child, you unlike most other people, were able to set aside the fan girl persona and see the fragile human buried beneath the cuts, bruises, wires and hospital bedding.  Sitting haphazardly on the other chair some orderly had procured as the super soldier still slept next to you, your mind had trouble focusing now on the book in your hands as you wondered what he must be going through.

Having woken up in a time no longer his own to discover only fragments of the world he once knew, he had set aside his own pain and given this new world the hero it deserved.  Throwing himself back into service by working tirelessly to fulfill Erskine's legacy and honor Bucky's sacrifice, the last few months had shattered the illusion that this new time was any different than the one he had left behind.

Beginning with the revelation that the United States government still believed in ending wars before they had even begun, this time through advanced weaponry, the hits just kept on coming when an attempt to assassinate S.H.I.E.L.D. Director Nick Fury before his eyes had revealed that the World War II criminal group known as HYDRA still functioned and with the help of his newly discovered friend James Buchanan Barnes, now operating under the moniker of The Winter Soldier, had successfully infiltrated various levels of government and was finally ready to seize control of this new world.

Standing up to their tyranny once again as he always had and fighting his one time friend in a brutal battle which landed him here and left a massive wreck in the middle of the Potomac river, not to mention the Black Widow's dumping of every U.S. secret intelligence file, both S.H.I.E.L.D. and HYDRA alike, your heart couldn't help but go out to him and wonder what now lay ahead for the First Avenger.  Could he rally once more and continue being the hero he always was?  Would the government even let him?  Or would this be the final act of betrayal that broke him and revealed that in the end all he really was is human?

Closing your book as your eyes now lingered over the monitors recording every aspect of his condition, this train of thought was easily lost to you however when Sam Wilson returned and thanked you for watching over his friend as he sank into his usual spot beside Steve's bed.  Smiling tenderly at him as you tried to figure out how he too was not currently occupying one of the hospital rooms like his friend, you quickly shook the thought away as you stifled a yawn while handing Sam a piece of paper with your phone number and told him to call you anytime if he needed anything.  Thanking you once again before saying goodbye, you then left the heroes behind and headed off to the next patient who needed a friendly smile and a kind word.

And so that's how the first few days of this extraordinary adventure had begun.  Stopping by throughout the day between your regulars, as you liked to call them, you'd drop off a few welcome items for Sam or Natasha before asking after Steve and then moving on to those who were without friends or family.  But nights however were spent by his side when even earth's mightiest heroes couldn't circumvent the ban on visitors staying overnight.  It was only after all your years of carefully cultivating relationships within the hospital hierarchy that got you around that particular obstacle.  Which is why you were the one there when it happened.

Resting in your now usual chair as comfortably as possible, having been told by Sam that the patient had briefly awakened, your fitful sleep was interrupted by noises and shuffling from the room’s other occupant.  Waking suddenly as the noises grew louder, you opened your bleary eyes to find the blond avenger caught in the grip of a nightmare you couldn't even dare to imagine.  Rising from the chair and laying your hand carefully upon his massive chest, you bent closer to try and soothe his troubled mind.

"Mr. Rogers?  Steve.  If you can hear me, I need you to relax," you coaxed as your hand moved across his chest and trailed down his arm to grab a hold of his.  Lacing your fingers through his as a means of being his anchor, your breath caught in your throat momentarily as he opened his eyes before you found your voice again and continued, "you're going to be all right.  I'm here with you and you are not alone."

Turning his head now in acknowledgement of your presence, your eyes met briefly before he closed them again and fell back into the abyss from whence he had just emerged.  And that became the pattern for the next two nights.  Talking him down when he woke up calling for Bucky or just rambling some other incoherent mumbo jumbo while you waited until morning to relay the news to the doctors in the hopes that they would be able to help, your concern for him only grew with each new ray of morning sunshine as doctors confirmed that only time and perhaps therapy would alleviate these particular issues.  And for that he would have to remain conscious.

And so it was that this became a secret that seemed to exist solely between you and Steve as the hospital fell into relative slumber and the closed blinds hid your comforting actions from the world outside.  Which you suspected was part of the reason you now woke up during another visiting with him to find your head laying on his shoulder and your body flush against his.  Embarrassing and unwelcome as that had been however, it paled in comparison to the revelation of Steve's position.

Opening your eyes to find his left hand resting on your ass while his right held yours over his crotch, feeling the warmth of the muscle beneath your palm was enough for you to search back through your mind for the particular memory of how this highly intimate yet wholly inappropriate situation had come to be.  Remembering how once again his trauma had woken him to find you calming his inner storm, this time however he found his sane voice just long enough to beg you to lay beside him while he drifted back to sleep.

Hesitating long enough to see the pleading cloud his features, you quickly slipped off your boots and climbing carefully into the bed beside him, gingerly snuggled next to him as his breathing relaxed and both of you slowly returned to peaceful slumber.  Now however morning had arrived and if you didn't want to be found in this compromising position, action needed to be taken.  Carefully and successfully freeing yourself from his grasp, though his left hand proved a tad harder to release, you had just sat upright on the side of the bed when a strong palm settled on your back and alerted you to his ever improving condition.

"Hey there, is everything okay?" he asked, still somewhat hoarsely as his hand moved tenderly up and down the outline of your spine.

"Sure," you answered, turning your head slightly to look back at the rapidly healing super soldier.  "I guess we just fell asleep again.  Anyway, Sam will be here soon and I have a few other patients to visit with today," you replied as you moved from the bed to the chair on his other side and began lacing up your boots.  A task that kept you so preoccupied that you failed to notice the despondent look that settled on the super soldier's features at the mention of you leaving him.

Reaching out his hand to you however as you finished this task, you took it and should have wondered what precisely he was thinking at the next words to leave his lips.  "You were tired.  You work too hard sweetheart.  Promise me you won't stay here with other patients all day," he asked as he ran his fingers along the back of his hand.  "I miss your warmth when you're not here," and kissing the back of your hand softly, you just had enough time to pull it away and compose yourself once more before Sam entered the room with what you suspected was some food and more magazines.

"Hey Steve.  Pretty volunteer," he smiled as he moved past your now standing figure to sit himself in the chair you had only recently vacated.  "How's our super soldier today, nurse?" he asked with a wink before pulling out a styrofoam cup and handing it to you.

"Thank you for this," you answered, taking the offered cup and bringing it carefully to your lips in the hopes the hot beverage inside would settle your nerves before continuing, "and you know I'm no nurse, Sam Wilson.  Still," you said, turning your gaze now back to Steve, "he does appear to be improving every day.  Hopefully in a few days he'll be able to go home," you smiled while failing once again to notice the dark cloud that settled on his features.

Giving Sam a quick note on things you felt the incoming doctor's should be aware of, at least as much as you were comfortable with, you then said your goodbyes to the two heroes, reminded Sam he could reach you on your phone if he needed anything and with a tender smile at Steve promised to be there again when Sam had to leave for the evening.  Then heading down to your car, a quick trip home for a shower and breakfast had you back at the hospital in record time to try and distract yourself from the nightly events.  A task which didn't go as smoothly as you hoped however..

Joining some of your favorite patients in the activity room for some games and a chat upon your return, it seemed word of the new celebrity had traveled far within these walls but unlike most youngsters, age had given the elderly residents a different perspective on the man who now refused to leave your thoughts even as he rested a couple of floors beneath your feet.

"I heard his speech was inspiring," Matilda mentioned to Audrey as you concentrated on the Scrabble letters before you and tried to ignore their conversation and the tugging on your heart.

"Well now that's hardly surprising," Jake interrupted from his spot by the window, "a fellow of his character and experience is bound to know words matter every bit as much as deeds.  Mark my words, the man who takes up the shield after him will be made of the same grit and integrity."

"Wait Jake, what do you mean the man after him?  Who said Steve is giving up the shield?" you interrupted as his words stole your attention from the game before you.

"Steve?" Matilda and Audrey both asked in unison with inquisitive glances you knew all too well would have you answering some awkward questions later but for now your full focus was reserved solely for the army veteran preparing to pass on some secret insight.

"Oh young one," Jake laughed, looking at you now and the other interested ladies with eyes filled with years of knowledge one could only acquire from all the life he had observed around him, "no one can carry on forever, not even a super soldier.  And would we even want him to?  Surely he has given enough and the man deserves to rest."

Turning back around to his jigsaw puzzle as your gaze returned to Matilda and Audrey's nodding heads, a part of you wondered what a world without the super soldier would look like but as the memory of his bruised body resting beside yours called out to you, you realized the old man was right.  Steve had given more than one man ever should and deserved to find peace before he lost even more of himself.  And it was still with this thought occupying your mind that you opened the door to Steve's room later that evening to find him sleeping soundly as the cares of the world currently seemed to have left him in peace.

Standing in the doorway noticing now for the first time the changes these past few days had brought, the conversations with your regulars made you realize something had to change.  Looking more closely now to see the cuts and bruises all but gone you knew that unless Steve voluntarily walked away there was nothing much that could stop him.  And that thought frightened you now more than any other.

Thinking back on what he had looked like the first day you saw him lying here all stitched up and shuddering at the nightmares that held him prisoner most nights as his consciousness slowly returned, a part of you wondered could Steve even walk away.  What would it take for him to even contemplate passing on that burden to another person?  It was a question that would have to await an answer however as a hand closed on your shoulder and a gentle "hi" brought you back to the present and all but gave you a heart attack at the same time.

"Shit Sam warn a girl before you sneak up on her," you replied quietly as you turned to face his now familiar presence while your hand rested on your heaving chest in an effort to calm your racing heartbeat.

"Sorry," he smiled and he couldn't help but notice the way your eyes flicked back to Steve and your body relaxed slightly upon noticing that sleep still held him in its embrace.  Giving one last glance over at his friend, he then gently took you by the elbow and leading you outside, closed the door silently before sitting both of you on the empty seats he and Natasha had occupied the first time you saw them.

Handing you a drink as now seemed to be his other customary greeting, enough time had been spent in his and Natasha's presence now to know that something was bothering him.  Reaching out your hand to grip his and reassure him that he could confide anything in you, you had to admit to being taken aback when Sam told you S.H.I.E.L.D. had suggested moving Steve to one of their own facilities to oversee his continued recovery and for added safety.

Furiously rising from the chair and reminding Sam in a less than favorable voice of all the pain S.H.I.E.L.D. had caused him, the eerie silence now descending on this bustling corridor was enough to tell you that your particular outburst was no longer a private matter between those who cared most for Steve Rogers.

"Sorry Sam," you replied somewhat calmer now while looking around and raising your hand slightly to let the ward nurses know all was well before continuing, "I know I'm just an ordinary civilian and I know they're not all bad, but surely you don't want a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent anywhere near him?" you asked, looking back once more towards the door that hid his resting form.  Hearing his phone buzz once more and sighing as he looked at the caller ID, you knew from his resigned features that the conversation was over for now.  Sam was needed elsewhere and you were now more determined than ever to somehow do what you could to shield Steve from any more harm.  But what could someone like you possibly do?

Saying good night to Sam and closing the door between you, Steve and the outside world, your mind worried with what Sam had told you and the uneasy feeling taking root in your gut.  Starting by once again shutting all the blinds that now made up your nightly routine, you took one look at Steve's sleeping form before walking back towards the door.  Knowing in your heart it was not your place or within hospital protocol to lock the door and acknowledging that nothing you did would really be able to prevent determined S.H.I.E.L.D. agents from forcing their way inside, your instincts still told you that something was better than nothing.

Heading back to Steve's bedside and checking through his charts, machines and vitals, all the information practically confirmed the same thing ... he was now much closer to being recovered than he had been previously.  Nodding your head and straightening your shoulders, you determined your course of action and set about putting it in motion.  Picking up the spare chair that usually cradled your sleeping body when not soothing Steve through a nightmare, you walked back towards the door and turning the lock then placed the back of said chair under the handle for good measure.  Then removing your shoes, you gingerly climbed up into the bed beside Steve and watched the door until sleep finally claimed you.  But given recent events S.H.I.E.L.D. really should have been the least of your concerns.

Waking sometime later in the night to find yourself no longer clothed, Steve's fingers playing with your hardening nipples brought your current predicament into sharp focus.  Calling out his name and squirming against him, Steve stopped what he was doing and laid you on your back before speaking.

"Hey sweetheart, if you want me to stop just say so," he whispered as your eyes now locked on his wandering hand and his eyes so blue and full of life for the time since arriving here flicked up to gauge your reaction.

Unable to think clearly or form any tangible words in that moment, his hand moving further down your body was the catalyst you needed however to spring into action.  Bringing your hand up to his and thereby stopping it from reaching your now exposed pussy, you found your voice long enough to ask him what exactly he was doing and how you had ended up in your current state of undress.

"I'm sorry," he replied with a child-like smirk, twisting his hand up to face yours and locking your fingers together before continuing, "it's just that I woke up to find you lying next to me again and I guess in my addled state I yearned to feel your flesh against my palm.  I find it oddly soothing," he finished and the look in his eyes reminded you of that first night he had begged you to lay beside him until he fell asleep.  Focusing on this memory as his fingers flexed against yours, you now acknowledged that that may very well have been the beginning of your downfall.

Sighing deeply then as you thought of all the women the world over who would give anything to be in your current position, his lips beginning to explore your neck and shoulders appeared to be doing wonders at lowering your defenses as a moan you barely recognised as yours left your lips.  Grinning now as his wet tongue joined his skillful lips and your hand felt looser in his grasp, the resulting "oh fuck, god" that next bubbled forth from your throat told him that perhaps you were more responsive to him than you were willing to admit and it only spurred him on more.

Continuing to suck and nibble along your neck as his hand left yours and made its way between your thighs, he was actually shocked when his digits came in contact with the wetness waiting there.  But if you were honest with yourself it didn’t really throw you for a loop.  Thinking back now to all the concern that had slowly started to creep into your thoughts of him, his fingers making their home within your channel now had you thinking totally different thoughts and as they somehow found a particular spot that had you clamping hard around him, you knew you were done for.

Begging now for him to apply more pressure and make you come, Steve proved himself every bit the gentleman you suspected him to be as he moved between your legs and tilted his hand at just the right angle to have you seeing stars.  Writhing beneath him now as his fingers continued to caress your walls, his thumb moving up to press against your clit was the final stimulation you needed to lose yourself to the waves of pleasure assaulting your body as your release gushed out around him.  Bending down then to lap it up as your ragged breathing made you fearful of passing out, the now impressive tool between Steve's legs that caught your eye told your night was far from over.

Flipping you over and laying you on your stomach, your blissed out state still didn't make you confused enough to not realize what was about to happen however.  Feeling Steve's heavy weight pressing down upon you met the memory of exactly where you were and your senses snapped into sharp focus just as his warm breath ghosted by your ear.

"Now that I've shown you what my fingers can do are you ready to let my meat invade your pussy and drive you to heights you never dared imagine?"

Hiding your face in his pillow and trying not to laugh at this ridiculous question as the super soldier flexed his hips and ran his hard length against your still dripping folds, your squirming body gave him that extra confirmation he required.  You weren't rejecting him.  Bending forwards more now to rest his lips against your ear, your body froze momentarily as the words he murmured confirmed the situation you found yourself in.

"So glad you seem to be on board sweetheart, but if you really want us to continue you're gonna have to use your words," and taking the "yes please" that left your lips as his cue, the super soldier caught his head on your entrance and thrust home.

Crying out as he entered you, he kissed your hair and shushed your whimpers as he buried his massive length within you while still being kind enough to let you adjust to his intrusion.  Murmuring words of comfort and encouragement in your ear, he didn't have long to wait before your body responded and he felt your hips squirm beneath him.  Easing some of his considerable bulk off your smaller frame then while still reminding you of the power he held over you, the slapping of his hips against your ass as his powerful tool stretched you beyond your limits was enough to have your body coming around his cock for the first time while your constricting walls forced him to add his own release moments later.

Remaining painfully hard within you as his hips continued their punishing pace, you tried to reach back and slow his pace only to have Steve yank your hands behind your back and now pull you towards him in a way your body was most definitely not meant to bend.  Pleading with him to remember that you weren't enhanced like he was, sanity prevailed thankfully as he eased up on his thrusts while still bringing your back flat against his chest so his phallus now hit you at a sharper angle that had you hurtling towards another orgasm even as the aftershocks of the first one still assaulted your trembling frame.

Coaxing you through your ongoing high as you now felt more of his cum flood your core, you might have thought about the consequences of his actions had he not been so bold as to paint a picture of the future he envisioned with you.  Continuing to fuck you over and over and over again as one orgasm ended and another began, you thought you might pass out again but Steve telling you about finding Bucky and the three of you raising a massive family together coupled with him stopping just long enough to allow you regain some sense of self, proved enough to keep you fully aware of just how much thought he had put into your future together.

Finally feeling the change in his length that signaled him fucking you was just about over, Steve Rogers at last erased any doubts you had about his intentions as he laid both of you back on your sides while slipping a set of keys and a piece of paper into your hands.  Looking down at what appeared to be an address that wasn't your home, you thought now that perhaps the doctors had been right about his trauma and resulting need for therapy, but his hands coming to circle your waist and rest against your tummy told you that despite your fears, you had agreed to most of this.  Kissing you tenderly then as he drifted off to sleep, these same arms held firm which was exactly how morning's rays found you once again.

Opening your eyes to now find Steve wide awake, he kissed your hair and released you before sitting up in bed and telling you to get dressed.  Moving gingerly as every part of your body ached, Steve continued to remind you of the life he had planned and whom you could turn to for assistance in his absence as he carefully began to remove any remaining bits of hospital equipment from his body.

Righting the room then back to its usual state before opening the blinds and unlocking the door, you had just about composed yourself when Sam appeared and was surprised to find Steve up and about and apparently all ready to head back out into the world.  Informing his friend that he just needed a few minutes to say goodbye to you, pulling you gently into his arms as his forehead rested tenderly against yours, it was with a heart weighed down by the task ahead that Steve held your gaze and uttered the words you would carry with you until your paths would converge once more.

"Knowing you'll be here waiting guarantees I'm coming back to you.  Now please, be my good girl and head to that address to protect the package I'm hoping we've created.  I’ll be back as soon as Sam and I track down my friend," he finished before kissing you softly, turning to Sam and walking out the door leaving you to wonder just how good he was at keeping his word and whether or not your random act of kindness had landed you with more trouble than you possibly knew how to handle.

Tagging:- @saiyanprincessswanie

#missys3500challenge #soft!dark Steve Rogers x Reader

[georgiapeach30513]

Your Mark On Me Masterlist

When you need something to help you stay alert study, you found a whole lot more than you were looking for. Tatted and massive. He was what your dreams were made of, but is he a nightmare? He claimed you, and now he intends on keeping you. No matter what the cost.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16

A/N: this story is going to have themes of drug dealing and taking drugs, there will be manipulation, stalking, degradation, and so much more. This is a dark Steve that wants possession of reader. Read ALL warnings before each chapter. You are responsible for the content you consume. Minors DNI

#your mark on me #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x fem!reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #tatooed!steve rogers #tattoos!steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #soft!dark!steve rogers #steve rogers smut #druglord au

[timidpumpkin]

Can you do a stucky little reader? She wakes up sick ( flu symptoms) and they take care of her. Angst and fluff with cute nicknames. 🥺🥺❤️❤️

You had me at angst…and fluff…and cute nicknames…okay you had me at the whole thing🙈🙈💞💞heheh i hope you like it!! I set it in little light universe🫶🫶❤️💙❤️💙

(pictures are not my own)

More Than Anything (Stucky x reader)

Pairing: Dark!Stucky x f!reader

Warnings/tags: Dark!Stucky, Daddy!Stucky, Female reader, Implied forced age regression, Sick reader, Meanie bucky, Implied reader has small hands in comparison because Stucky is gigantic (fact), Angst, Fluff, Comfort. Reader baby-talks as well, Lots o' cute nicknames.

Word count: 4.2k

It hurts.

“Mornin’ Doll,” Bucky says after flipping your lights on. The illumination now burning your vision makes you pull the covers over your head as you flip over, hiding from the bright room. You hear him making his way to your bedside. The mattress beneath dips you sideways a bit as he sits beside your dormant form. 

“Come on now, time to get up.” he pulls lightly at the duvet covering you. He can tell you’re gripping it with all you can. Though he could easily unveil you, he decides against it, knowing that ripping the blanket from your delicately curled-up fingers might hurt them. Instead, he leans his body over yours, one hand placed on the other side of your hip as he hovers above you. He dips his head close to where yours is concealed by the warm blanket. “Don’t make me carry you down there,” he whispers teasingly, figuring it’s likely what you’re hoping for. 

Instead, you only groan in response, mumbling something about getting a little more sleep. It wasn’t an uncommon request from you, and Bucky knew how much babies needed their sleep. Usually, he would let it slide, loving how adorable you look in dreamland, but he can’t. Not this time. 

It was almost noon. He peers around your room. It’s not the cleanest, but it looks pristine compared to the current state of your playroom. He had asked you yesterday to clean it, noticing the myriad of toys and their respective accessories scattered across the carpeted floor.

You, preoccupied with dressing your doll so she could ‘go on vacation,’ promised him you’d do it after dinner. Bucky apprehensively agreed, and even let you fall through on your assigned chore after you quickly fell asleep on the couch, much before your usual bedtime. Figuring you played your little heart out, he carried you upstairs and told himself to remind you in the morning.

Having already slept almost twelve hours, he knows if he lets your slumber last any longer, you’ll never sleep tonight. He sighs.

“I know you want more babygirl, but Dada already made breakfast and lunch. You need to come eat,” he waits a few moments for you to respond, but you don’t let out a sound or groan. “I'm serious, Doll, time to get up,” he states, standing up, hoping it’ll prompt you to follow. You peel your sheets back to look at him.

“Daddy…” you whine, unsure of what you're asking for. All you knew is that it hurt. Everything. It wasn’t just that the lights were too bright. It wasn't just that you were sleepy. Your whole body felt…bad. Just bad. You couldn’t exactly explain it, but you did know that moving didn’t seem like it would help. 

Bucky only looks at you, unsatisfied. You try sitting up, which you find is more difficult than it should have been. Once you’re upright, you feel pressure in your head. Your cheeks and forehead feel as if there's unwanted gunk smooshed inside. It makes you want to lie back down immediately. 

“m’ tired daddy,” you say groggily. 

“That’s ‘cause you slept so much,” Bucky knew messing with your established sleep pattern too much would likely make you feel more cranky than it seemed you already were. So, as much as he knew you didn’t want to, he believed it would be for the best to make you get up.

As you start to get out of bed, it feels as though the air is made of thick jello with every movement you make.

“Daddyyy…ughhhh” you groan unhappily at him, and kick at your sheets frustrated that you’re being forced to move.

Bucky’s eyes narrow at your agitated action, never liking that kind of behavior from you.

“Don’t be that way, Doll. it’s too early for that,” he warns.

“Mmm,” you groan again. “noo, don’t wanna, wanna sleep!” you say crankily, flopping back down on the bed again with your arms crossed to prove your point. That point being: you. did. not. want. to. move.

Bucky rolls his eyes, and takes a deep breath, debating internally on how to approach your grouchiness. He decides, only since it’s so early—for you—that he’ll go easy on you, hoping this attitude will fade as you wake up. 

“No more sleep, but,” he leans down closer to you, “if you promise to be a good girl all day, Daddy will carry you down there.” he offers as a compromise.

Truthfully, you’d still rather lay in bed, but you knew you had to do what Daddy asked. More so, you didn’t want him to be upset with you, so you nod your head in agreement. 

“Okay, Daddy.”

“Okay daddy, what?” he questions.

“I-i’ll be good,” you say, having a hard time remembering what he asked. He slides his hands under you and begins to pick you up. Once you’re in his hold, you quickly let your head fall to his shoulder, wishing you could now sleep there instead.

“And you’ll eat your breakfast this morning?” he asks into your heavy head. You nod into his neck and mumble a ‘yes daddy’ assentingly.

Once he places you in your chair downstairs, Steve greets you with a bright smile, and a kiss to your forehead after setting down your food. When he does, he notices how hot your skin feels against his.

“You feel warm angel, you feel okay, babygirl?” he asks, gently checking the temperature of your cheeks with the back of his hand.  

“Oh, she just got up, she’s probably still warm from sleep,” Bucky answers before you get the chance to speak. “Somebody really didn’t want to get up this morning,” he pokes. 

“Ohh,” Steve coos, “you still sleepy, babygirl?” he asks. You shake your head weakly, eyes drifting closed. You think about telling him how bad you feel, but you don’t really have the energy to try to explain it.

Instead, you decide to focus on eating, hoping the sooner you finish, the quicker you can return to resting. However, the very first swallow of your otherwise pleasant meal scratches at your throat. You still try to get some down, thinking the pain will go away if you keep trying. When it becomes evident that won't be the case, you poke at your plate and begin to speak up.

“Daddy, m’done,” you push your plate away, “my thro-” 

“Uh-uh, a few more bites,” Bucky pushes the plate back in front of you, knowing you’ll never feel more awake with an empty stomach. “And after you finish, you can go clean your playroom,” You look at him puzzled.

“But-”

“No buts. I already asked you to do it yesterday,” he explains, not looking up from whatever he happened to be reading at the table with you. Your face twists in confusion for a few moments before you remember how tired you felt last night. Truthfully, the fatigue was all your body could focus on, making you completely forget about the room.

“But daddy-”

“What did I just say?” he looks up at you.

“I’m tired!” you snap at him, voice raised high and whiney as you bemoan at him. You cross your arms and huff grumpily back into the chair.

“I don’t care if you’re tired. Do what Daddy says, or you can say goodbye to your playroom for the next week” he threatens. Not wanting to get out of bed was one thing, but directly disobeying him with that attitude was another. 

Still, you only groan angrily in response, not feeling like you could do anything right now. 

“Ugh!” you flop your head down on the table dramatically, hiding between your arms. Bucky lets your stew there for a moment before speaking up.

“Are you gonna finish eating or not?” He asks eventually, eerily calm. You remain silent, unsure of what to say. “Fine, you can go clean your room now,” You look up to him at that, suddenly confused and disoriented. Surely your daddy should know how bad you feel. 

“But Daddy! I don't wanna now! I don't feel g-”

“Did I ask if you wanted to? I don’t care if you don't feel like it. Now. Or no playroom for a month.” your jaw drops, your muddled brain beyond baffled on why he’s being so harsh. Still, you know he means it. It wasn’t outside his usual punishment by any means. You almost think you should consider yourself lucky he hasn’t bent you over his knee already with how you’re fighting him.

Feeling defeated, you drag your body out of your chair. Before you can go, he grabs your arm with a warning.

“and quit with the attitude.” 

“Yes, Daddy” you squeak lamentably, noticing how your throat hurts as you speak.

You drag your feet upstairs, physically resisting your legs from stomping as you go. Anger and confusion mix together in you as you think about what he said. You didn’t want to be grounded from your playroom. So many of your favorite things were in there. And, again, more importantly, you didn't want to make daddy upset with you. You never liked it when he was. You always tried so hard to be a good girl for them. But right now, it was so hard. In actuality, what you wanted more than anything was for him to cuddle with you. You felt Daddy and Dada could always make you feel better. No matter what, you were convinced your Daddies loving embrace could cure you from any ailment. 

Maybe, you think, if you just cleaned your room like a good girl, you could ask to cuddle with him after. 

You try your hardest to ignore the pain that ignites at every move you make, but truthfully, you're already abnormally out of breath just from your quick walk up the stairs. The room feels uncomfortably chilly against your skin. 

After you get a small portion of the floor cleared, you decide to take a little break. You practically collapse beneath yourself, curling underneath the cozy play tent filled with askew fluffy pillows and dismayed blankets. You shut your eyes and tell yourself you’ll only rest for a few minutes…

“Angel?” Steve's voice echoes back at him from the loft balcony where you should easily be able to pick up his voice. He can’t hear you moving around. “Are you sure she’s in there?” he asks Bucky.

“She better. It’s where I told her to be.” he retorts disdainfully, hoping you're not again disobeying him by being somewhere else. 

Steve stills himself, and listens closely, he can tell you’re there, but your breathing doesn’t sound normal. 

Concerned, he makes his way upstairs. Bucky follows, recognizing Steve’s ‘something’s wrong’ face. 

Steve panics for a brief moment when he enters the empty but disarrayed room. Then he spots you. Your delicate form hidden amongst haphazardly arranged fabrics. He approaches you slowly, not wanting to startle you. 

He kneels down, overshadowing you as he gently caresses your cheek to wake you. 

“Babygirl?” he calls softly. Puffs of hot air escape your mouth. Labored breathing is all he can hear. All they can both hear. 

“Babygirl,” he calls again, shaking you slightly. To his relief, your eyes slowly open. They look sunken, tired, and devoid of their usual playful sparkle. 

“Dada…?” you question quietly. “m’cold” your murmur softly, eyes begging to be closed again. 

You’re not cold though. Not to Steve. You feel a million degrees too hot under his touch. 

“Babygirl…” he says for the third time, this time preparing to move you. “Dada’s gonna pick you up okay?” he explains, remaining calm so as to not worry you. “We're gonna go downstairs,” you feel limp in his arms, no different than if you were deep in sleep. But you are certainly awake, even if barely. He mumbles something to Bucky you don't make out, but his tone alone tells you he’s not happy.

Once you’re downstairs, he sets you on the kitchen counter. You don’t let go of him though, your body weight is leaned almost fully onto his.

“Can you sit up for me, babygirl?” he asks encouragingly, but gently. “Daddy and I are gonna check you out okay?” you groan a bit, still just feeling tired. 

“Here,” Bucky speaks up softly, snaking his arms around you, and taking Steve’s place in front of you. As you’re shifted from one body’s hold to another, it wakens you a bit. You almost go back to leaning fully onto his chest when you realize who’s holding you.

“Daddy?” you shift back a little to look up at him. One hand of his is resting at your hip, the other helping support the rest of your body.

“Hey, babydoll…” he says softly, voice drifting, and stomach sinking as he sees how sick you look.

He almost wishes he could somehow shut his hearing out. Your heartbeat is quicker than usual. He knew it better than his own. How it sounded while you slept, when you’d play, how it picks up when you laugh, giggling for breath and telling him ‘daddy, stop it tickles’ with the brightest grin lighting up your face. Now…now he can’t stand it. It’s thumping too fast. Faster than it should be for when his little girl hasn’t moved an inch herself. 

Why didn’t he notice it before? He thinks back to how heavily you held onto him when he carried you this morning. How quickly he was to interrupt you. He realizes you probably tried to tell him. And he didn’t listen. Even worse, he made you clean. Guilt seeps deep into his guts as he remembers how funny your voice sounded today. 

“Daddy,” you break him from his thoughts, he sees tears beginning to form in your doleful eyes. “Daddy m’sorry,” you breathe in sharply, beginning to cry “m’sorry didn't f-finish-i just-i gots so tireds daddy I’m-I'm sorry,” you sob pathetically, knowing you’ve disappointed him. 

Bucky’s face falls. 

All you had to do was one simple thing, and you couldn't even do that right. You weren’t being a good girl by disobeying him like that. Even if you felt bad, you feel you should have tried harder.

“Doll, no-” you cry sorries to him more, your own hands reaching to cover your shameful face. He catches them before you do, gently taking them into his and guiding them around his neck for you so you can be more level with his gaze. “Babydoll, look at daddy,” He pulls you, hands drawing you closer so he’s flush with you in between your legs. Needing to feel your skin, his right hand tenderly guides your face to look at him. “I’m not upset with you. Daddy’s not upset with you,” he reassures, silently pleading for you not to cry. 

“But-but-I didn’t cleans-I-I just-I-I not good girl,” you sob miserably at the admission, never wanting to be bad for him.

“My little girl, my sweet girl, no, please no” he assures, hating how skewed shut your eyes are. “That’s not true, Doll, it’s just not. Daddy…” he carefully wipes at the wet tears on your cheek, “Daddy should have known.” he admits shamefully. You finally blink your eyes open at him, a timidly unsure expression written on your face. “I should have known. You...you tried to tell daddy huh?” he takes one of your hands and gives it soft kisses. 

“N-n’your not mad at me?” you sniffle as your cries begin to slow down.

“No, Doll, never.” he couldn’t be, never for something like this. His mouth opens again, he wants to tell you how sorry he is. He’s the one who should be, but he only finds his own tongue twisted, unsure of how to fully express his remorse. Before he has time to puzzle the words together, Steve interrupts, thermometer in hand.

“Open wide, babygirl,” you do as he says. “tongue up,” he mimics the motion for you. The cold metal feels uncomfortable in your mouth. They must know this as Bucky squeezes your hand soothingly, and Steve tells you ‘just a little longer’ with a sympathetic gaze as he holds your jaw with the hand that’s not keeping the thermometer in place. 

When it beeps, Steve removes it and frowns when he reads the displayed numbers. 

“Can you tell us what hurts, princess?” Steve asks. You point your hand towards your neck. “Your throat?” he confirms, and you nod your head. “What else babygirl?” you then squeeze your eyes together, remembering how squished your brain feels.

“Head,” you mumble quietly, before crossing and rubbing your arms together in discomfort. “Everything.”

“Your body hurts? Feels sore?” He asks. You nod your head weakly at him, closing your eyes and wishing you could be laying down right now. Even just sitting somewhat upright felt hard at the moment. 

“Okay babygirl, why don’t you let Daddy take you to the bedroom,” Steve suggests. “I’ll be there in just a minute.” he smiles at you comfortingly, before placing a kiss on your forehead with his hand cradling the back of your head. 

“m’I sick?” you ask Bucky as he carries you to their room.

“Yeah, but it’s okay, Dada and I will help you feel better,” he carefully sets you on their large bed. 

It's soft. Yours is soft too, but Daddies always felt so much softer for some reason. Maybe it’s because you got to sleep next to your favorite people. He arranges the pillows and blankets around you to make you more comfortable, then slides next to you. You rest your head on his chest, almost instantly falling asleep again. 

Some time passes, particularly how much time is beyond you. All you knew in this moment, is how comfy Daddy felt.

After some time, Steve’s voice brings you back to reality. He instructs you to sit more upright so he can give you medicine. 

The odd color liquid he brings toward you makes you cringe. You can tell just from looks how bitter and unpleasant it will taste. You recoil into bucky, small hands gripping at the buttons of his shirt as you whine.

“Daddyyy…” you tug on Bucky's shirt more, trying to force your head into his flannel to hide from Steve and his icky medicine, practically begging Bucky to not make Steve give it to you.

“Doll,” Bucky chuckles a bit at your attempt to hide inside his outer shirt. He still holds you close, hands supporting you on your bottom as you have now completely crawled on top of him.

“Angel…you know I can still see you…right?” Steve teases.

“No you can’ts…m’not here” you proclaim, muffled into Bucky’s chest.

“The sooner you take it, the sooner it will be over, come on princess.” Steve encourages. You’re still not convinced and instead mumble out one word: ‘pill.’

For a second, Steve isn’t sure if he understood you correctly before his lips tighten with a displeased look on his face. 

You’ve had this conversation before. He thought surely by now you understood it, but he figured since you’re sick, it might be hard for your little head to remember. 

“Sweet girl, babies can’t take pills, you know that.” Steve explains patiently. You did know that. It was early on when Steve refused to let you take any medication you needed through a pill. It didn't matter what you needed, he was always able to find a way to get a liquid version of it from Uncle Bruce. Or, as you like to think, a much yuckier version of it. 

Still, you groan in disagreement, not wanting to taste something that bad, let alone when your throat hurt as much as it did. 

“Doll,” Bucky speaks up. “I know you don’t want to, but it’ll make you feel so much better.”

You shake your head against his chest, disagreeing with both of your daddies now. 

“it’s yucky dough daddy,” you whine.

“I know it’s yucky, babydoll,” Bucky pats at your back comfortingly while he thinks. He knows how hard this is for you, especially when you feel so bad. “Hey,” he peels you back from him a bit, unburying you from his shirt as he has an idea. “Look,”  he instructs, “Here,” he takes the small cap of medicine from Steve’s hands and–to your horror–throws it back in his mouth. You look at him in horror as the icky liquid disappears from the cap into Bucky's mouth. You stare at him wildly. 

Daddy’s crazy, you think.

“There. See? Daddy took it. It’s not so bad.” Bucky says nonchalantly in an attempt to convenience you. He hands the empty cap back to Steve so he can refill it. Steve shares your look of bewilderment, before you can't help but break out a smile at his action.  

“Daddy,” you giggle at him.

“What?” He fakes surprise. “Daddy took it, so you can too.” he assures happily, taking the now filled-again cap from Steve. Still, you recoil from it a bit. 

“Yeah…” you look between him and the medicine suspiciously. “but daddy also drinks other yucky stuffs,” you defend, referring to the strong-smelling caramel-colored stuff he likes to drink sometimes. Daddy never lets you have that. 

Bucky chuckles a bit when he realizes what you meant. 

“Okay, true…and little baby definitely can’t have that stuff…” he says pointedly. “but this,” he gestures the cap towards you. “you have to take.” You look between him and Steve warily. 

“Please angel, I know you can do it. Do it for Daddy and Dada princess,” Steve encourages. You agree this time, mentally pepping yourself up and telling yourself if daddy could do it, so could you. 

You scrunch your eyes closed as Bucky brings it closer to your lips. You feel Steve’s hands reach down to hold your face. One hand holding your jaw up firmly, with the other around the back of your head. This way, you aren't able to move should you change your mind. Steve knew you’d be a good girl and take it, but he always had to be sure just in case–not unlike what has happened before–you decide to spit it out.

When it hits your tongue, it’s just as yucky as you had imagined. Maybe even worse. Instinctively, your face contorts in displeasure as you squirm around from the gross sensation. 

Steve and Bucky hold you firmly in place the whole time and instruct you to swallow. 

Once you do, Steve asks you to open your mouth for him, just to make sure you really swallowed it all.

“Good girl, my brave little girl. I knew you could do it.” Steve praises you. “Dada’s so proud of you.” he beams at you, making you smile. 

“Daddy proud too?” you ask shyly to Bucky.

“Super proud doll. The proudest of them all.” he winks at you, making you giggle a little bit, but it tickles your throat, causing you to start having a coughing fit. 

Bucky brings a sippy on their nightstand to your lips and lets you drink some cold water. It helps calm your throat. 

Steve asks if there’s anything else you want right now. You ask for some juice in your favorite sippy, and he lets you know he’ll bring it after he’s done making some soup for you.

Bucky gets out of the bed, making you confused. You promptly grab at his hands. 

“Where going?” you look up to him, eyes big and sad. 

“I was just gonna go help Dada, why don’t you get some rest, Doll?” He says, knowing it’s what you need most right now. To his surprise though, you don’t let go.

“Nooo,” you say, tugging feebly at his hands. “Stay…wanna…can…cuddle daddy?” you ask bashfully, suddenly feeling shy. 

Bucky’s eyes turn soft. Soft. Just like his little girl. Soft. Like how your voice always sounded. Soft. Something, an emotion, a feeling, a sensation, that only you made him experience. 

Even after he made you clean your playroom, even after he snapped at you and didn’t listen, you still asked in your softest voice, doleful eyes, and small grabby hands if he would cuddle with you. Sometimes–he’s not sure what he did to deserve you. 

“Of course, princess,” he climbs back into the bed with you and you grin happily as you curl yourself around him just like before. He suggests again that you to get some rest, but that too comes with protest. 

“Wanna watch ‘toons wif Daddy…can we’s?” you ask. Bucky smiles to himself and kisses your head. Even though he knows you’ll likely fall fast asleep no more than five minutes into it, there’s nothing more he’d like more than watch shows with his little girl

He turns on your favorite show and makes sure you’re perfectly comfortable, tucked around him and under blankets. 

“Doll?” he whispers softly after a few minutes. To his surprise, you’re still awake. You mumble a questioning ‘hmm?’ he takes a few seconds to respond, trying to gather the words correctly for you. He breathes in. 

“I’m sorry Daddy didn’t listen earlier,” he admits, lips ghosting the top of your head, before placing a kiss there. “I should have listened.”

“It’s okies Daddy,” you hum sleepily into his chest. It wasn’t okay. He knew that. But you—you and your never-ending soft and kind heart—forgave him. And that’s all that mattered to him. He truly was more than lucky to have a little girl like you.

“I love you Daddy,” you squeeze him softly, voice quiet. And even though he can’t see you, he knows you're smiling when you say it. 

“I love you, Doll.” more than anything.

#thank you for this ask i loved writing this so much!!!! #a million apologies it took me forever to answer 😅😅🥺🥺 #daddy!stucky x little!reader #stucky x little!reader #stucky x reader #dark!stucky x reader #soft!dark!stucky #soft!dark!stucky x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #Bucky x reader #dark!steve x reader #dark!bucky x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky #stockholm syndrome #dark!stucky x little!reader #daddy!steve #daddy!steve rogers #daddy!bucky #daddy!bucky barnes #little!reader #stucky fic #Fluff #stucky fluff #stucky angst #daddy!stucky x reader

[biteofcherry]

No better gift

part of Nesting universe

soft dark mafia Steve Rogers x female reader

summary: Steve likes the gift you gave him for his birthday, but there's something else that he wishes go. And he will take it.

warnings: soft dark Steve Rogers; established relationship; intimacy; some things are implied and some of them are kinky 😏

Sweet raspberry scent of your lotion soothes you as you rub it into your skin after taking a shower. It wasn’t exactly a tiring day, but exciting enough to have you craving the peace and quiet of your home. 

Steve’s birthday was a rich celebration, though not like one might expect. 

There was no grandeur, or flamboyant displays of wealth. No business partners to pledge fake vows, nor celebrities to take hundreds of photos with. Quite the opposite, it was a rather small affair with family and friends only.

But Steve’s family and friends are a bunch of joyous, often loud people. So despite the celebration being somewhat nostalgic - held at Steve’s mom’s place - it was a lot. From the laughter and teasing stories, to the small display of fireworks that Steve’s people organized.

What you have learned over the past year is that while they are lethal criminals, they are fiercely loyal and surprisingly loving. 

And though it was Steve’s birthday, the true star of the party who stole all the attention was your baby boy. You could really catch a break and indulge (and Sarah’s cake was worthy of all the indulging), because others occupied him for hours. At one point you mentioned to Steve that he should find Bucky a girl, before Barnes really steals your kid.

All the fuss was exhausting enough for the baby that he fell asleep before you even got into the car. 

Back at home, Steve told you to take your time in the bathroom while he puts the baby to bed. One of the things which surprised you at first, was how present Steve is - both for you and your son. Not only dutiful, but openly loving and enjoying that time. And watching him with the baby melts your heart each time, as well other parts of your body.

When you exit the bathroom, Steve is already back in the master bedroom. Half undressed.

His shirt is on the back of the armchair, the button of his dark slacks popped open, but the zipper still up. Your gaze appreciatively roams over the wide planes of Steve’s chest, taking in the outline of corded muscles and the few, ornate tattoos on his body.

Left corner of Steve’s mouth curls in a smirk when he catches you staring. He crooks a finger at you and your feet move on their own accord, stepping between him and the bed. 

You lift on your tiptoes, pecking Steve’s lips sweetly. You’d like to maybe kiss him more, but your mouth also craves that huge slice of birthday cake which Sarah packed for you and at the moment the taste of it is kinda winning with the taste of Steve.

A little.

But you also want to cherish this quiet moment with him, soak up this warmth radiating off of him. You put a hand over his sternum, feeling the steady, strong beat of his heart. Then slide your hand down his muscular arm.

“I hope you like your gift.” You tap the wide band of the black wristwatch on Steve’s wrist, shiny with novelty and black sapphires. 

“It’s hard to find a present for a man who has everything. Or who can afford anything.” 

You still consider it cheating, since to buy it for him you used the black card Steve gave you over a year ago. 

“I do like it,” he assures you, stepping so close you have to tilt your head back to maintain eye contact with him. 

He places a hand on your hip and skims his fingers up over the delicate fabric of your hand-painted, silk robe (Steve’s Valentine gift to you). He pinches the end of the silky belt between his fingers and starts tugging slowly.

“I love your other gift much more, though,” Steve’s voice drops to that low tone, thick as molten chocolate - and just as delectable. 

“Other gift?” A small frown forms on your forehead, quickly smoothing out as a shiver of pleasure spreads through your body when Steve unties your robe.

Warm, calloused hand slips beneath the fabric, touching your naked skin. It’s a gentle, yet so characteristically possessive touch. 

Over the months, even as your body changed with pregnancy and then after giving birth, Steve’s demand for your body never shifted. Not only it didn’t lessen, but at times it felt as if it grew.

He could be tender, especially when your body was the most sensitive, but there was always that control and possession; which both scared you and aroused you. 

Your nipples harden into stiff pebbles as Steve’s fingers brush over your breasts, your breath hitching a note when he pushes the robe off your shoulders completely. His touch travels back down, more brazen. His blue eyes darken as he takes in your naked body, so vulnerable and all his to play with. 

Hands flying to Steve’s shoulders, to keep your balance when he cups your tits, you gasp and arch. Heat unfurls in your belly in a wild burst as he pinches your stiff peaks. 

With how Steve’s eyes are focused on the darkened nipples and his tormenting squeeze, you know he’s remembering how milk spilled between his fingers when he did that to you just a few months prior. 

“I track your calendar, little bird,” Steve’s lips ghost along your jaw, as he slides his hands down your sides and over your ass. 

At the brush of Steve’s lips over yours, your brain stops following the line of thought. You nearly whimper, chasing his mouth when he holds off the kiss. 

“You’re ovulating.” 

Your half-closed eyes snap open at his hungry tone. Shocked with the revelation and the obvious indication behind Steve’s words, you arch back. But you don’t have the slightest chance of putting any distance between the two of you. 

Steve’s hands grip your ass and he hoists you up easily. A squeak escapes your lips when he tosses you onto the bed. 

Heart fluttering in your chest, you watch him climb after you - a deadly predator, determined on devouring his prey whole. 

The mattress dips under Steve’s weight and you feel yourself melting into the soft sheets, your pussy already weeping from the sheer sexual power of his aura. Still, instinctively your legs close. Steve yanks them apart. 

He settles above you, heavy and warm, pinning one of your wrists down. His other hand slips between your thighs, nimble fingers teasing your folds and clit until your hips rock back against his hand, pleading for more.  

“This will be your gift to me, little wife,” Steve’s eyes lock with yours as he pushes a single finger inside you.

“Swelling with my seed again.” 

Steve’s triumphant chuckle seals your fate as your pussy clenches around his finger eagerly.

#Nesting #Steve Rogers birthday drabble #Steve Rogers x reader #Steve Rogers x female Reader #Steve Rogers x you #Steve Rogers imagine #soft!dark steve rogers #soft!dark steve rogers x reader #mafia!steve rogers

[wildestdreamsblog]

I know heaven’s a thing, I go there when you touch me

Pairing: 6’4 Steve Rogers x Reader

Warning: Soft!dark Steve Rogers, Yandere!Steve Roger, size kink? Bad words?  If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

Summary: You just wanted to try one night stand- for the sake of your sanity. But who knew you would be doing it with the Captain America himself?

A/N: I came back bearing gift for you! Thank you so much for always supporting me my loves! Also quick life update, I have 13 days left in my job before I’m finally free~ will probably rest for a month before I look for another job for my sanity uwu. I hope you enjoy this! Also!!! 4kish fic, first time I wrote a one-shot thing long

“You!”

Sam jumped from his seat upon hearing your loud shout. Steve, who wasn’t expecting the loud sound coming from you, only calmly looked behind him from his seated form on the bar. He was still nursing the whisky despite his inability to get drunk, only accompanying Sam in what he called “boys night”, sans Bucky who was busy guarding his little bird. Or rather, stalking his little bird. He watched you over his hooded eyes, the dimmed lights from the bar making him looked dangerous, but it was the way he looked at you that almost made you stopped walking to him. He waited patiently for you to reach him, his form completely relaxed, his posture leaning against the bar and even seated, he managed to tower over your small form.

“Me.” Steve stated with a smirked on his face, the blue shirt he was wearing brought out the beauty in his eyes. You felt Sam’s dark eyes on you as if in thought why you were screaming at the Captain America.

Only that you didn’t know he was a hero. You weren’t from around here, you weren’t even from around this state. Or this continent. You were here for an overseas job that you just couldn’t not accept- a job that would get you out of your comfort zone and one that would broaden your career. Who could say no to that?

You squinted your eyes at him, taking his confidence and masculinity in.

“Do you find me attractive?” You asked with false bravado. At this point, you were beyond frustrated with the way you just finish. You meant, you were doing your part, you were putting yourself out there. You just got out of a three-year relationship, in which you never came, not even once. You could not help but think that maybe there was something wrong with you.

Were you not doing it right? Were you not putting more effort? Were you not just enthusiastic? You meant, how hard could it be? Other people did it on a daily basis- then why could you not orgasm? And you felt sorry for your then partner. You could not help but think that maybe you were the problem? Maybe there were just women who couldn’t come. Yeah, right. So you tried again with someone else for months. And. You. Still. Couldn’t. Come.

And so you promised yourself that this would be your last great effort in trying to achieve it. You told yourself to find the most attractive man in this fancy bar, and go home with him. So here you were, trying to stand taller than you actually were, and asking the handsome man in front of you if he found you attractive.

Steve tilted his head in the endearing way of his, looked down and up at you slowly running his eyes over your gorgeous form and met your eyes. His blue ones twinkled as if he found this amusing, “Yes.” His velvet voice affirmed.

“Then do you want to have sex with me?” You sputtered, hoping that your voice came out sure and not shaky, as what you felt inside.

Steve tilted his head, his long lashes fluttering as he blinked, as he regarded you. He looked like he was considering what you asked seriously.

Sam chuckled, in his own way of easing the awkwardness he was feeling after a moment of dead air, “Good luck with that. This man is as decent as-“

Suddenly, Steve rose to his feet, his huge form towering over you little one before he collected his leather jacket.

“I would love to.”

You blinked owlishly, craning your head up just to look at his eyes as he neared your little form, the soft lights from the bar was making him looked ethereal, as if he was an angel, one that looked at you with a dark glint in his eyes. He bowed his head a little so he could see better. He could not help but likened you to a little kitten, one that was hissing and standing up more than its actual height. Your head was just leveled below his chest. You were so small that Steve didn’t know how you survived life so far. He knew what it was like to be little, he was no stranger to being small. But back then, he had Bucky. And despite how brave Steve was back then, he knew he would diminished without someone protecting him. You reminded him of Steve before the serum. You were brave, so brave despite the tremble in your lips when you approached him. You were scared…but you still did it. There was something about your gentle courage that made him want to go with you just to see this through. He wasn’t like that. To be honest, he had always thought of women as something that he could survive without. After all, he lived a long life without a companion. He had never understood why Bucky was so enamored and captivated by his little bird.

But strangely, all he wanted to do was get to know you…so he could protect you.

So…was there someone protecting you, little kitten?

He smiled at you, his nose picking up your sweet fragrance. He wanted nothing but to smell you more. He cocked his head to the side, his hand going in his pocket as he watched you involuntarily take a step back.

“You can back out,” his baritone voice teased you. He didn’t know why he said that, perhaps it was his way of giving you a chance to get out of this predicament. Perhaps, he was scared to find out how he would be like if his incessant need to protect you deepened beyond going back. He watched your brows furrowed as if you were seriously considering backing out. He hoped you wouldn’t. For both of your back, he hoped you would. He was torn, but he wasn’t going to make the decision for you. No, you have to decide for the both of you.

“Are you scared, little kitten?”

You snapped your eyes back at him, the strong resolve he saw mere minutes ago was now back, stronger than ever. You stepped closer to him, and without thinking, you reached for his hand and pulled him, leading him out of the bar and into the life you would inevitably have with him when you made the decision to touch him.

Steve opened his apartment door, sidestepping and gesturing for you to enter his lair. You eyed him but he just gave you an innocent smile before tilting his head as he waited for you to enter his apartment. You stepped foot inside his apartment, your eyes roaming over the place of the man you wanted to sleep with. Your eyes found the hanged black and white photograph of him and a dark-haired man wearing what looked like an old military uniform. The next photograph was of a group of huge men wearing..costumes? Was Steve a model? You frowned before walking deeper into his apartment. His apartment screamed masculinity, it smelled clean and with a hint of his distinct smell. You jumped when you heard the door closed, Steve locking it as he put his car keys on the table. He smiled innocently at you before perching himself on the edge of the table, his stance completely relaxed like nothing could falter him. His heart swelled of approval when he asked you where you wanted to go and you suggested his place. Smart girl, he thought. You should not let anyone in your place.

You cleared your throat, standing awkwardly in front of this massive and handsome man as he looked at you with a smile on his lips as if you were amusing to him, “I like your apartment.”

“I like your lips,” he smiled sweetly at you before reaching his large hand at you, urging you to take it, “can I kiss you?”

You chuckled as you walked near him, “Is this how it usually goes?”

“What?”

“One night stands,” you clarified before stepping in between his spread legs instead of taking his hand, “the movies were wrong, then.” This close and you could see how blue his eyes were, how he perfectly sculpted his jaw was, how long his lashes were as he stared at you. Despite his half-sitting position, your head only grazed his chest. Slowly, his large hand covered the expanse of the small of your back, pulling you closer to his form, wanting to feel your warmth.

“How does the movie usually go, hmm?” He whispered as he ran his nose to your jaw, down to your neck, taking you in, taking your scent in because he had never in his life wanted to know what someone smelt like, only now. This was more than what was in the movie, little kitten. No, this was more intense.

You sighed as he pulled you even closer, “Well, usually, they go inside the apartment drunk out of their heads, bodies locked together as if all they are driven to do is to well, fuck.” You heard him chuckled, before he returned his eyes on you. Slowly, he tucked your hair behind your ear, “There’s usually not much talking, I think,” you added.

Steve tipped your chin to him, “Well I guess, this is not a one night stand, then.”

You weren’t given a chance to think about what had said when he decided to finally do what he had been wanting to do the whole night. Steve’s lips touched yours so tenderly, as if the huge man himself was terrified to know how your lips tasted like, only to find himself instantly addicted to them. He growled before standing up, your face in between his strong hands as he deepened the kiss, never giving you the chance to escape from his hunger, and not that you wanted to. It had been so long since someone made you feel something akin to this, or really no one at all made you feel like this. You had read about this, you had watched movies when the characters kissed for the first time. You had always thought that it would really be like that with you. But time and time again, you were disappointed. You had always felt nothing, you thought kissing was a chore.

But this- this was what the movies and literatures and art were talking about. This was the explosive feeling, the anticipation, and the warmth you never knew was possible to feel all at once.

You breathed once Steve separated from your lips, his chest heaving as his eyes darkened. You didn’t know how you ended up in his bedroom without you feeling it, but Steve guided you. He would always guide you. Without breaking eye contact, Steve took off his shirt before you, his muscles rippling with his every move and he looked stronger without his clothes.

Steve looked like a warrior.

“Seriously,” you voiced out despite your breathy voice, “what do you do? Are you a model?”

Because how the fuck could he looked like that with a normal job? You meant- he wasn’t going to look like that if he was an accountant, right?

He chucked before stepping closer to you and you had no choice but to step back as he invaded your space, “Something like that.” His baritone voice answered you before gently pushing you on his bed, you bounced only once because before you knew it, he was on you again. His large body encaging you, his muscular thigh on each side of your hips preventing any movement from you.

“How are you so beautiful?” He quietly asked, his eyes soft as he breathed you in that you couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“I should be the one asking you that. I can’t believe you agreed-“

Steve cut you off with the touch of his lips, his kisses deep. He was just glad you chose him. He was the lucky one. His lips trailed to your neck, sucking lightly as he squeezed your breasts, heaving as you gasped when he bit a little too hard. Steve had never wanted to mark anyone as badly as he did you, he had always been gentle. But something about you made him feral, as if he had no better purpose than to possess you, to make you feel as wonderful as you made him feel. You froze when he reached your underwear. Steve paused and looked at you from between your legs.

“Okay?” He whispered, afraid that he had scared you with his intensity.

You nodded sheepishly, before telling him the truth. “I just- I don’t want you to be angry or disappointed,”

He was shaking his head before you could even finished. Steve crawled his huge body to yours, “What’s wrong?” He asked as he caressed your cheeks.

You bit your lip, your cheeks heating up, “Ihaveneverorgasmwithaman,”

“What?”

“I have never-“

“No, I understood. Why are you sorry?”

“Because..it’s not normal and I’m scared you’ll get mad. I just wanted to put it out there that if I don’t, then it’s not your fault.”

You looked up at him over your lashes, trying to gauge his reaction to your predicament. He was silent for a moment, his eyes never leaving yours before he frowned, “I still don’t understand why you’re sorry. If they can’t do their job properly, then why are you the one sorry?”

You blinked owlishly at him, before being aware of your nudity and proceeded to cover yourself on his blanket only for him to wrench it away from you. His face darkened, why were you hiding yourself from him?

You gulped from the look on his face, before he leaned down, his lips moving against yours ever so deeply as if he never wanted to separate from you. You were so focused on his warmth that you didn’t notice his hand on its way to your pussy that you gasped when you felt him cupped your wetness.

“Those boys don’t know what to do with a precious gem like you,” he whispered hotly in your ear, his finger slowly rubbing your clit, massaging it so slowly that you didn’t know what to do but moan. “They don’t know how to treat this perfect pussy right-“ you felt his long finger in you, slowly inserting and twisting as it went inside. His thumb played with your clit, rubbing it back and forth as he whispered dirty promises in your ear. You were gushing embarrassingly fast that when he inserted another finger, that after he hit it just too right, you unbelievingly came. You back arched as he didn’t stop fingering you, even as he looked at you with wonder, strands of his hair falling on his forehead. “If only you could see you,” he growled as he quickened his movements, never giving you reprieve as you felt the coil snapped, bringing you to another pleasure. “I’m glad they never saw you like this. They might have never let you go.”

And he won’t.

You rested your hand on his hard chest, trying to push him away. “Wait-“ you tried catching your breath as you felt him crawled down to your pussy, as he spread your legs farther apart, as he used his shoulders to stop you from closing it, even as you covered your still quivering pussy from his lips.

“Yes, my little kitten?” He answered, his eyes focused your disheveled form.

“I’m Y/N,” you couldn’t believe you were introducing yourself to a man who just made you come twice.

“I know.”

“How?”

“I saw you ID.”

What? When?

“Now can you please remove your hand so I can finally eat my pussy?”

His what now?

“I’m still sensitiv-“

“Kitten,” his authoritative voice called out to you, letting you know that he meant business, “we have years to make up for your disappointing sex with disappointing boys. I take my job seriously, so can you please remove your hand from my pussy?”

And he ate you with gusto. His appreciative growls and moans adding to your pleasure, lapping at your pussy as if he couldn’t get enough, as if he had been craving you for so long. And when he inserted his tongue in you, his dark eyes at you, and as your impending orgasm came, his hands on your thighs tightened, preventing your from moving, And all you could do was to take what he was giving you.

“You are so receptive to me, kitten. Do you know what it does to a man?” You heard him asked, and you heard the buckle of his belt resounding to the quietness of the night, the sound of his zipper was so loud, the rustle of his pants as he stripped from them made you opened your eyes. You sat up sheepishly, his hand pumping his hard cock once, twice- his eyes never leaving yours even as your crawled away from him. There was no way that you could come again, despite your ages long dry-spell, coming numerous times in a row was intimidating you. “Steve-“

He cut you off he started crawling to you, his hard cock pointing to you. It was so big, and it looked so angry that you acted before you could think. You made it to the door, but you should know you couldn’t outrun a super soldier. You felt his large body behind you, his hard cock trapped between his abs and your back. “You know what it does to a man, little kitten? It makes him want to keep you, to possess you.

And that night, he did possess all of you.

“I swear Bucky, you have to do something about your best friend. It’s been more than a month and he acts so irritable I swear to God the agents are terrified of him,” Sam ranted to Steve’s best friend, Bucky. Well, maybe Bucky’s also Sam’s best friend but no one should know. Sam would not live the end of it.

Bucky hmmed, his eyes focused on his phone as he texted his little bird that he would be home in a few hours.

“Hey, are you listening?”

“Yes, Samuel. Steve is like that because he lost his little kitten when she was already in the grasp of his hand. And now he couldn’t find her.”

“Right. So why not just move on?” Sam pondered, he couldn’t understand how these men lost their ever-so loving mind over a woman. He meant, Bucky lived for work back then, so focused on his task that he thought nothing could fazed this man. Then entered, his little kitten. And now he lived and breathed to protect her. On the other hand, Steve was the most gentle and kindest soul Sam had ever met. He couldn’t even hurt anyone except when it was absolutely needed, always had the longest patience and was the voice of reason when Bucky found his little kitten.

But now, looked at him- brooding with his long hair that he had no more time to cut from looking for her everyday, snapping at the mistakes of the agent, and training them with intensity that made even Sam wary.

“Why should he? He’ll find her,” Bucky shrugged, unbothered by what was happening to his best buddy. “He wanted to join the military even when he was sickly and under qualified, and he did. He wanted to save the world despite the imminent danger, and he did. You should know, Sam. It’s only a matter of time before he finds her.”

“Find who?” Steve grumbled, his long legs carrying him inside the training area, his hair swept back.

Bucky flashed his best friend a smile, “Well, who else? Your little kitten. In the first place, you should have guarded her better.”

“What was he supposed to do, Bucky? Tie her up so she wouldn’t be able to escape the next morning?” Sam asked jokingly at the two men training with him.

“Maybe I should have.”

What?

“Capsicle,” Tony called from the door, gesturing for Steve. “You made another agent cry. I am so exhausted from putting out fires. First, it was Bucky with his insubordinate ass. But thank fuck he found his little bird and now he’s at least 47% better to work with. Now you, making our agents cry with your strictness and your rigorous training. I need you to lead this team and really lead it. What’s with you? Is it because of that girl? What should I do to return you to normal? What should I do to make you sane again, huh, cap? Should I find her myself? Is that what you want? Because I am so exhausted from placating our agents and listening to their complaints. What should I do? You want me to find her? DONE!”

Steve frowned, he was only half-listening to Tony’s tirade when what he said caught his attention. “What?”

“You’re welcome,” he drawled before rolling his eyes and turning his back on Steve, “I should be the irresponsible one! Stop making me the responsible one I hate it!”

Your eyes trained on your laptop screen as you continued your report on the medicine that your group had been working on. You had been busy for the past month and seeing the success of the medicine was making all the hours you spent working worth it. You sipped your coffee, the small coffee shop’s interior was somehow making you more productive. You returned your attention on your report, the caffeine hitting you just right. You were so immersed with finishing your work that you almost didn’t notice the huge man planting himself on the seat in front of you.

“Long time no see, my runaway kitten,”

Your eyes widened at that familiar voice, one that whispered sweet nothings in your ear more than a month ago. His blue eyes were hidden by his dark shades. You couldn’t see his eyes, and thank God you couldn’t because if you saw how intense his eyes were, there would be no doubt that you would run again. And he couldn’t let it happen the second time, could he? He watched you as you looked surprised by him. He reached for your coffee and took a sip of it, never straying his eyes from yours. “Nothing to say to me?”

“I’m sorry.. I don’t know the right protocol for what we did. I thought one should leave after the deed?” You asked, clearly confused. You meant, wasn’t that how one nights stands were supposed to go?

“Is that why you left?”

You nodded slowly. You had enjoyed the night you spent with him. He was extremely masculine, but nevertheless, he took care of you. He was gentle as he cuddled you, even as he cleaned you his touches were soft as if he never wanted to hurt you. You felt so cared for, so feminine that night that there was no doubt in your mind that you chose the right man that night.

But like all things, it had to come to an end.

Steve frowned. This could all have been avoided if only he cleared things with you, or if he held you tighter that night so you wouldn’t be able to leave. Nevermind, that would be the last time you left.

“So how’s work? How’s your modeling career?”

“Excuse me?”

“You told me you were a model,” you clarified with a smile on your face.

Steve cleared his throat, dodging your question. You were already skittish enough, what more if you finally knew who he was? No. He had to cement himself in your life first. That way, you wouldn’t be able to escape him that quickly.

“Do you find me attractive?” He inquired, throwing back to you what you asked him that night.

You frowned, of course you did. You meant, looked at him. There was no way he was real.

“Then do you want to go out with me?”

You paused. You liked him, you really did. But you didn’t think you were ready for a romantic relationship just yet. You smiled at him softly, reaching for his massive hand. “Steve,” you started before looking up at him, “I am not ready for a relationship right now.”

He considered what you said, his jaw clenching with the thought of not having you. But like anything he had ever wanted, he would find ways to get it.

He offered you a small smile, “I understand.”

You found yourself that same night plastered on his door, Steve’s muscular arms on either side of you as he kissed you, something he would make up for missing you for over a month. If you weren’t ready yet, Steve knew he could do other things to speed things up. He knew you were going to end up his, it was only a matter of time. He wasn’t above seducing you, little kitten.

You only needed a nudge.

And if that didn’t work, well… he could always accidentally forget protection.

You wouldn’t be able to leave the next day if you had a baby, right? No. If the public found out about you, the whole world would expect that Captain America would do the right thing by you. Steve would never have to wake up without you again.

Set in the same universe as Your Protector, Forever

#steve rogers one shot #possessive steve rogers #soft!dark steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #captain america fic #captain america x you #captain america smut #yandere steve rogers

[navybrat817]

Disturbia AU

Welcome to The Haven! Home is where your story begins and what better place to live than paradise? Experience the epitome of luxury and make your dreams a reality. You're going to love it so much that you won't remember what life was like outside of your new neighborhood. 

We'll make sure of it. 

Pairings: Various men with female readers. ❤️

AU Summary: You have a beautiful home and a loving partner. So, why does it feel like something is wrong with your neighborhood?

AU Warnings: Dark themes, creepy vibes, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), oral sex (m. and f. receiving), dirty talk, angst, porn with feels (it's me, lovelies), more to be added.

A/N: Welcome to my dark AU with forced housewives. I hope you all enjoy this AU and the various pairings. Please heed the warnings before each post and I will update as time allows. Banner and moodboard by yours truly. Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky x Plum

A Plum a Day

Steve x Cherry

Sweet as Cherry Pie

Nick x Ginger

It's a Ginger Thing

Andy x Ruby

As Red as a Ruby

Scott x Rose

Fall Like a Rose Petal

#navybrat writes #disturbia au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #scott huffman x reader #scott huffman x female reader #andy barber x reader #andy barber x female reader #nick fowler x reader #nick fowler x female reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers #scott huffman #andy barber #nick fowler #soft!dark bucky barnes x reader #soft!dark steve rogers x reader #soft!dark scott huffman x reader #soft!dark andy barber x reader #soft!dark nick fowler x reader

[darkdarkstucky]

𝐄𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝, 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕.

SUMMARY: In a world where Omega's were scant and decent alpha's even more so, you think you're one in a million to be in a relationship with Alpha's who not only take care of your every whims and need, but also love and respect you unconditionally. However, your marital bliss of two years is interrupted by the concept of ‘true mates’.

WARNINGS: A/B/O Dynamics, Sexual Themes, Polyandry, M/F/M, Angst, Mentions of violence, Alpha x Omega, Ruts and Heats, Threesomes, Oral (F and M recieving), Eventual Soft!dark themes, Manipulation, Breeding Kink, Graphic depictions of violence, Dark Themes.

PAIRINGS: Steve Rogers x Reader x Clark Kent, Soft!Dark Clark x Reader, Soft!Dark Steve x Reader.

CHAPTERS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

#steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #steve x you #steve x y/n #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #soft!dark steve rogers x reader #soft!dark steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #alpha!steve rogers x reader #alpha!steve rogers x omega!reader #steve rogers x female reader #alpha!steve x reader #alpha!steve rogers #clark kent x reader #clark kent x y/n #clark kent x you #clark kent x female reader #soft!dark clark kent x reader #soft!dark clark kent #alpha!clark kent x reader #alpha!clark kent #alpha!clark kent x omega!reader #alpha!clark kent x omega reader

[highonmarvel]

Isolation

Steve Rogers: Steve comes back.

An entry for Day 5 of the exciting @sintember challenge!

Prompt: Isolation, ft Steve Rogers (Captain America) of the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

Warnings: NON-CON, signs of declining mental health, captivity, 18+!

When Steve first put you in his basement, you nearly scoffed at the cliché: prisoner in the basement, like he couldn’t be bothered to be even slightly more creative. That was a few days ago, you think. You really had no way of telling. You remember screaming and banging on the door—you can still see the faint lines your nails scrapped onto it—but you can’t remember when that was. At first you counted a day as the next time you woke up, but you gave up, not because it’s obviously wildly inaccurate, but because you lost count of that, too.

You were hungrier than comfortable, but by no means starving, so maybe in that way it couldn’t have been too long, right? Without change, there is no time, and there has been no change in the basement since… however long it’s been. You couldn’t even rule out it had been months, though evidently ridiculous as that was considering your relative physical health (or, at least, as far as you can tell, or as far as you’re willing to believe), your sense of trust is out of balance.

Steve had been your best friend, you trusted him most, you never for a split moment thought he would hurt you. Steve, who’d you known all your life, time, as well, you’d known all your life: if you couldn’t trust Steve, could you trust your sense of time? You didn’t realise how much people rely on time, even when they have nothing important to attend to; time is the one constant, hours pass whether you want them to or not: you have no constant now.

You sit on the mattress (stained with a little blood you assume must be your own) hugging your knees to your chest, staring straight ahead. You weren’t going mad, you hadn’t had any hallucinations, had you?

Down here, there had only been the sounds you made—your breathing, your screaming, your crying—but your ears prick at an unfamiliar noise. It’s not unfamiliar, really, just one you haven’t heard in a while. Metal, not a lot, shifting around…

A key in a lock!

You scramble to stand up just as Steve pushes open the door, and your eyes lock immediately. You can’t help but notice even now he still has that superhero stance, his posture, standing tall and strong; assuring to everyone else, intimidating to you. But you refuse to allow yourself to be intimidated.

Steve doesn’t say anything as he begins his decent down the stairs; he looks away, but you stay fixated on him. When he reaches the floor, he turns to you with a smile.

No thought, you just sprint.

You dart towards the steps, but he easily scoops you up, and you’re bent over his shoulder, screaming as you hit your fists against his toned back and kick your legs uselessly in the air.

Another sound you hear, it sounds familiar, sounds like words being formed by a noise different to the one you make when you speak. It’s so bizarre to hear Steve speaking, so bizarre to hear anyone speaking but yourself after all (?) this time of hearing the same melody. It’s so bizarre, in fact, that you don’t really even register it, what he’s saying, until you’re dropped onto the mattress on the floor, falling quite a way (relative to what you would be used to hopping into bed) with a shriek.

“I’ve been alone, too,” he says, towering over you, blocking the single light that illuminates the basement, the light that hasn’t once turned off since you were thrown down here, it hasn’t even flickered.

He suddenly drops to his knees, straddling you. This position feels familiar, too; his knees caging you as you writhe under him in distress; it feels like the second time, now. It is the second time. And the first time this happened it ended with you being literally thrown into his basement. What would he do when he was done this time?

“Look…” he gently raises your right hand to his eyes, examines it, and then tilts it to display your nails to you; they’re bitten down so bad you’re bleeding, or maybe you’re bleeding from clawing at the door, either way, they’re damaged, fairly badly, and you stare back at your own fingers in shock. How could you not have noticed this?

“When you’re alone,” he says, gently, softly laying your hand back down to your side, “You hurt yourself. That’s why you need to stay with me.”

Right! You were at his place, as usual, and as you were falling asleep when he started, started speaking about how you needed to stay with him, because you needed him. Though while he violated you, he spewed the opposite.

“I need you…” he grunted.

You shake your head to rid yourself of the thoughts, but that memory seems to be replaying in front of your very eyes, a huge wave of déjà vu crashing over you as Steve strokes the side of your face. You slap his hand away, and that loving gaze he’d been showering you in turns dark. You try to throw a punch to his jaw but he catches your wrists and gives you a disapproving look. It’s extremely frustrating this seems to be so easy for him.

With nothing else to do, you start kicking and screaming; you’re sure it won’t accomplish anything, but you refuse to just roll over and accept this, no. You twist and turn under him until, to your surprise, he raises himself just high enough for you to turn all the way over. Before you can comprehend your little freedom, he brings his knees back down to the back of your own, and though it’s evident he’s not using all his weight, it’s still enough to make you cry out.

He lets his knees fall to the sides and manages to restrict your movements enough to tug your shorts down.

You want to scream No! but after all this time, you’re not sure if your voice can work to form actual words; you’ve only been screaming and sobbing for days. Or hours? Since he left, you haven’t spoken since he left, and you’re not sure if you can now.

You hear him spit in his hand and his soft groans as he strokes himself, and you’re lucky you can’t see it. You try to claw at his legs as you feel him line up with your entrance but he manages to pull your wrists together and shove them into your back.

He enters you slowly and with a soft groan, tears springing to your eyes as you sob, incoherent; you’re sure you’d plead with him to stop if you could. He ignores you and thrusts deep, in and out; you’re sure his careful movements may have looked loving and respectful to someone on the outside, yet it was anything but, despite what he’d have you believe.

“I need you…”

⍟

#sintember 2023 #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x you #dark steve rogers #dark steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers x you #soft!dark!steve #soft!dark!steve rogers #yandere steve rogers

[goodgirlofglory]

Taking what he wants/One-shot

(Edit: This has grown to a multiple part series - /Masterpost/)

Pairing: Soft!Dark!Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings: non-con, dub-con, smut, explicit sexual content, explicit descriptions of violence, explicit descriptions of blood, vaginal sex, anal fingering, oral (female recieving), unprotected sex (wrap before use, guys), creampie, choking, praise kink, felching, Steve’s unrelenting (and hot as hell woof)

Word count: 5,6k

Summary: On a regular, unsuspecting night, a bloodied stranger falls into your apartment. As you help him clean his wounds, you find yourself at his mercy, struggling against his strength, his intentions, and your own, secret want. 

Note: Your media consumption is your own responsibility, but I advise you to not engage if the contents of the warnings trigger you. Not beta-read, we die like men. My work is not to be distributed outside my blog. 

I say this is soft!dark!Steve Rogers since it has heavy non-con and dub-con vibes in the beginning, but Steve isn’t as physically forceful as I’ve written him before. Head the warning, darlings. Take care<3

This is a sort-of prequel to To give you what you need, so go give that a read if you like this one<3

Edit: We have a third installment now, Keeping you. There might come more parts to this story later as well ;)

Reblogs, likes and comments are amazing<33 

It was late. Too late. Fuck.

Well it was only about one in the morning, and you had the day off tomorrow, so it wasn’t a problem, really. But you were planning on getting up early to catch the sunrise out on the hill, so you brushed your teeth and your hair rather rushed in order to get to bed as quickly as possible. 

You were just about to turn the lights off in the hallway before slipping into your bedroom, when a quiet sound came from your front door. A knock, you realized with a flash of nerves as you glanced at the clock again. Oh no, that could not be good. 

You wanted to ignore it, but a second later, it came again, louder this time, a fist hard against the wood. You jumped at the sudden force of it. You didn’t know anyone who’d come banging on your door this late. Not without messaging first. Maybe not even then would they bang loud enough on your door for your neighbor to hear it. 

A weird sense of embarrassment filled you as you wondered what your neighbor might think of the noise coming from your door. Your feet carried you over to stop the noise before you’d thought it through, and you unlocked and cracked the door slightly open. 

The door was pushed inwards immediately and you stumbled back as the force of it, completely unable to stop the intruder barging in. You made an alarmed noise of complaint before a hand clutched your shoulder, and your eyes met the stare of the most piercing, blue eyes you’d ever seen. He was inches away, his breath labored as the onslaught of smoke and earthly cedar filled your nose.  

“Please,” the stranger said, soft voice a stark contrast to his forceful actions, “I need help, and I need shelter. I’m a secret agent, and I need a place to hide for the night. To get this cleaned, if anything,” he said, jostling his shoulder slightly and wincing from it. 

You looked down at his shoulder, then further down his arm and finally at the hand clutching your shoulder. It was gushing red from blood, quickly staining your shirt and making you queasy. Looking back up, you noticed a red and dirty cut above his brow, the skin of his cheekbone scratched and bloodied, caked in mud as well. His short cut hair was messy and blond under a layer of dust and dirt.

“Please, miss, I wouldn’t come barging in like this if it wasn’t entirely necessary. Yours was the first home I came upon with lights still lit,” he continued after a beat and you felt unfathomably sorry for him in that moment. You nodded and he let go of your shoulder, sighing in relief. 

“Of course. Kitchen’s this way, I have a small medical kit there, it’s all I have,” you said, gesturing dumbly towards the kitchen as your mind still reeled with the adrenaline of this total stranger inside your home, no matter how polite he was and how extraordinary the situation seemed. Surely anybody would help a bloody stranger on their doorstep. It was your duty, right?

“I’m sure it’ll do fine. Thank you,” he said with a smile. 

He gestured for you to lead on, and followed behind you. As he straightened to follow, you took note of his attire. Black suit of some kind, seemed like a thick fabric with a heap of clasps and pockets all over. And across the chest, silver stripes and a bright, silver star in the middle. Seemed like something a cosplayer would wear, you thought quietly to yourself. Certainly not something you’d seen anyone wear before. 

“Sit there,” you told him, pointing to one of the chairs at the table in your humble kitchen. You fished out the small medical kit from under the sink, dusting it off and remembering this was the first time you’d needed it in the five years since you’d bought it. 

Making your way to the table, you noted how your hands shook slightly.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, why did he have to come to your house. You were never good with blood, or stressful situations - or people. 

It didn’t make it better that you could feel his eyes on you as you started to unpack the med kit, taking out the scissors, cotton balls, gauze and disinfectant. Looking up, you saw you were right. The stranger was regarding you silently, watching you with a carefully neutral gaze. He seemed calm like a windless sky, and the churning inside you worsened at that for some reason. 

“Ehm, maybe you should..um, take of your..top or whatever, and…” you stumbled awkwardly, pointing stupidly to his shoulder where you saw the rift in the fabric, the fabric glistening wet with blood in the low light. 

“Right,” he said, smiling a bit again as he started unfastening visible and invisible straps around his shoulder and chest, soon peeling the fabric back with a grunt. He pulled the top part of his suit off until his entire upper body was uncovered. You hadn’t expected to react to his naked skin at all, but you found yourself a little flushed at it. The downright massive muscles of his arms and the definition of his chest told you whatever he did, he needed to be fit. But this was not the moment to be distracted by a half naked man in your apartment. Not when the skin on the left side of his chest and arm was painted a light red hue in blood. What looked like a nasty gash tore diagonally from the top of his shoulder down half-way across his left pec. You heaved a breath as your stomach flipped. 

“That looks really bad,” you whispered, not able to tear your eyes away from the wound.

“Actually, it’s pretty clean. Shouldn’t take long to heal,” he said, and you had to look up to check if he was kidding or not. He was looking at the wound with what seemed like mild professional interest at best.  It didn’t look like he was kidding. He looked up to meet your eyes, and his glinted with something at catching your gaze. You couldn’t help your intuition telling you something about that was off. But what?  

“Oh,” you simply said, not having any experience with wounds to argue with. 

You awkwardly neared him and gave him a piece of cotton to do whatever he deemed appropriate with. He took it, smiled at you again and started wiping around the wound. 

“Do you have some water?” he asked after a moment. 

You nodded, practically sprinting to the sink to get some distance between yourself and the blood. Coming back with a bowl of water, you sat awkwardly across from him as he went about cleaning his wound, passing on more cotton and wet tissues as he asked for them, watching with that sort of masochism that made people enjoy horror stories. 

“I’m Steve, by the way. Steve Rogers,” he said. 

Names. You hadn’t given your names until then. 

“Y/n,” you said back, trying to smile politely and not being entirely convinced by yourself. 

“Who gave you that, anyway?” you followed up with, trying to gloss over not giving him your last name. Not that it would keep you anonymous in any way. He knew where you lived, for christ’s sake.

“Some lunatic with a sword,” he snorted, a small laughter lacking any humor leaving his mouth. 

You fell silent after that. His gaze met yours from time to time, and they seemed so calm, almost dreamy as they lingered on yours. It was like he wasn’t wounded at all, and you two had known each other for years. It made your skin prickle slightly, catching him looking at you almost like a lover would. 

“Could you help me wrap the gauze?” he asked, breaking you out of your thoughts. You immediately got up to comply, jittery with pent up energy. It made you mourn slightly how late the hour had gotten. You probably wouldn’t be able to sleep after this anyways. 

You moved closer to him to start wrapping the gauze around his shoulder, under his armpit and across his chest and back. The cedar scent from before enveloped you again, but it was much more heady this time, dominating in a way scents rarely were to you. It made you almost embarrassed to smell, it was so…close. 

Everything was close now, too close. You bent forward to reach around his obscenely broad chest to pass the bundle of gaze from one hand to the other, and your lips almost touched the skin of his neck, his own breath tickling the hair behind your ears. You could swear he turned his face slightly towards yours as you leaned back, and you were so close. So very close, too close for comfort, and you swallowed thickly, revealingly, before dropping your eyes. 

You fastened the gauze with a safety pin and leaned back, finally feeling like you could breathe again. He didn’t let you keep your reprieve for long, though. He gestured towards his face and gave you a sheepish smile. 

He hissed as you first dabbed the cotton ball to the cut above his brow. 

“Would you mind? It’s kinda tricky doing it right when I can’t, ya’know, see my face,” he said. Your first thought was to fetch a mirror. You could hold a mirror and then he could clean his own wounds. But that was stupid. Get it together, y/n, you can clean this poor, injured strangers cuts without having a panic attack. 

“Um, sure,” you hesitantly agreed. Unelegantly, you poured some disinfectant on a cotton ball. The cuts didn’t look like they needed much more than a cleaning, just getting the dirt out. You tried leaning over the table, but couldn’t quite reach. Getting on your feet, you made your way around the table. You deliberately stepped on the side of him rather than in between his legs, which he had widened slightly at your approach. You tried not to linger on that move, the invitation in it, the intimacy, failing as the warmth of his skin seemed to bleed across the small distance and into your body.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, sizzling with anxiety. 

“No, it’s fine, please continue,” he said. He closed his eyes as you kept going. 

You quickly swabbed at the cut, cleaning the dust and dirt away, trying not to let the skin of your fingertips come into contact with the skin on his face. It seemed imminently important to not make skin og skin contact with him, and you couldn’t quite understand why. 

But then you needed to reach the scratched up patch on the opposite cheekbone, and you swallowed thickly as you reached across, face moving even closer to his.

Too close. 

This scratch needed less cleaning, no deep breach of skin, and you hopefully looked forward to the moment you could retreat across the table. 

But then his eyes opened and your gaze drew to meet his. You looked into each others eyes for a long moment, and then your eyes flicked down to his mouth before you had a chance to control it. His lips were in a neutral line, but there was a tiny amount of saliva shining on the bottom lip, like he had been biting it. Looking back up, his eyes were steady as they reconnected with yours, watching. 

Shit. 

“Thank you. You did really well,” he said, his voice low, rumbling, and the words made you shiver despite yourself. Shit. You desperately hoped it hadn’t showed, cheeks heating up, and the silence droned on for another, painfully long moment.

You straightened, joints stiff, and fled across the table to sit again. 

“Well, that’s it,” you said pointlessly, trying to fill the air with something other than the thick tension that had built despite your best efforts. You were uneasy, wanting the stranger to leave without knowing how to ask him. He’d said he needed somewhere to crash the whole night. And you had said ‘of course’. Surely others wouldn’t throw him out at this point?

“I should get out of your hair now,” he said, and relief washed over you. You couldn’t help the following pang of guilt though, at being so relieved this injured stranger would leave you alone after doing nothing more than require your help. 

You got up from your seat and made to move out of the kitchen, hoping he would follow you to the front door without any more fuzz - so that you could go to bed and try and forget this whole thing. 

You stopped by the portal out to the living room. 

“Um, good, I mean, if you're sure, you -” 

Turning around, you found yourself suddenly crowded against the wall, Steve standing mere inches away. He was so tall, towering over you in a way that made you instantly shrink in on yourself, reaching back to clutch at the wall you couldn’t move around. 

“Um, I…”

“Would you like me to leave?” he asked, hands coming up to lean on the wall on either side of your head. His suit was still half-way off,  the naked skin so close it had your own skin crawling. 

Too close, too close, too close…

How could you answer that without looking like a heartless asshole? 

“I…you said you would,” you said. 

“I said ‘I should’. But I think you might want me to stay,” he said, and his smile was almost sly, nothing like those he’d given you earlier. 

“I don’t,” you heard yourself whisper, and you were surprised you’d even been able to get the words out. “I don’t,” you repeated, a little louder now. Surely he’d leave now, you’d said you didn’t want him there?

Steve regarded you for a moment, and then leaned in, slowly, until his lips brushed against the sensitive shell of your ear as he spoke. 

“We’ll see,” he murmured, the vibrations of his voice rumbling into your body, making electricity zap down your spine along with sudden, white hot panic. For a moment you saw the whole situation as if you stood across the room, and the premonition of danger startled your body into action. 

You ducked under his arm and bolted around the corner, efficiently dodging furniture, bounding for the front door. You made it, wrenching it open an inch when a hand behind you reached over your shoulder and easily pushed the door back shut. You wrenched at it, breath hitching as it didn’t move, your strength nothing compared to Steve’s. 

No, no, no, no. Why did you open it in the first place? What were you thinking?!

A frustrated whimper left you as you fruitlessly gave the door knob another jam. A moment later you felt warmth enveloping your back as Steve took another step closer, and then his whole body was slowly pressing against yours, trapping you against the door in a hot, tight lock. 

“Shh, none of that,” he said low, measured, his voice slow and comforting. His face pushed into the hair at the top of your head and he inhaled, deep and slow. You fought the tremor at him smelling you so unabashedly. 

“You’ll do well, won’t you? Be good,” he said. You couldn’t help trembling this time, leaving you mortified at the effect of his words. Those words. 

He chuckled lightly into your hair, his other hand coming up to brush it away from your nape. His fingertips grazed your skin and you couldn’t breathe with how much the tingles fuzzed on your skin, like champagne. 

No, please…

You bucked back against him, thrashing as you tried to get out of the tight press of his body and the front door. He budged slightly and you made to slip away when one of his hands came up, flipped you around with such force that your shoulder sang out in a jolt of pain as it hit the door, and then his hand, big and warm and calloused, wrapped around your neck. 

Your eyes grew wide as you reached up to claw at his hand as it applied pressure, the constriction of your throat making your mind scream in panic. He was killing you. Actually killing you. You would be dead within moments. This was it. 

Your eyes met Steve’s, still calm, but shining with intent now, with determination.  In the back of your panic stricken mind you noticed how wide his pupils were, how the black seemed to drown the blue of his irises. 

A strangled rasp came from your throat as you tried to draw breath, and he eased the pressure, heavenly air, thick and soothing, entering your body. 

“None of that,” he repeated. “This will be so much better if you just let it happen.”

“Let what happen?” you asked, and your voice was shaking now, dread slowly replacing panic. 

“Me taking what I want,” he answered rather easily. “Which is what I suspect you want too,” he continued, whispering it like a secret, a secret he told on your behalf. 

You jolted in his grip, his huge hand like a leash around your throat now, no longer constricting, but keeping you put nonetheless, leaving your body to squirm slightly in place, pressed to the door as you still were. 

This was completely insane. He was a stranger. In your home, uninvited in the middle of the night. And now he was either going to either kill you or take what he wanted, which you could imagine what was. 

There was something moving in your body now, something other than the panic and dread, some deep tingling awareness you didn’t want to name. Didn’t want to admit to. But it was there, growing under his watchful, knowing gaze, his promise that you would be good. That he would tell you how you could be. 

“Is that what you want? For me to take what I want? For you to be a good girl, letting me take it, give it to me like I know you can?” he continued, studying your reaction as he so skillfully pushed your buttons, buttons you couldn’t fathom how he knew about, how he’d discovered. Had you been so revealing? 

Your breath hitched and you pressed your thighs together in a subtle effort to relieve some of the tension in your lower body, the restlessness you felt there. His mouth drew up on one side, like a sly fox, letting you know he saw everything. 

“Oh, you’ve been neglected. No one’s taken care of you in a long time. Given you what you deserved. Letting you show how good you can be,” he continued, a serious yet comforting tilt to his voice, and it made anticipation grow hot inside you suddenly and violently. 

It was true. It had been so long. So long since anyone remotely worth it; anyone who really saw you. 

“I can do that. I want to do that. I want you to show me how good you can be, y/n. Show me how well you can take it,” he whispered, stepping nearer again so his breath fanned across your face as he spoke. 

The onslaught of his scent, the thick and heady nature of it, drawing you into an embrace, made the air thick with his musky smell. It made you draw a deep inhale, followed by a shaky exhale, something pulsing deep inside you. You were suddenly, painfully aware of your sparse attire, only wearing your long sleeping t-shirt that reached just below your bum, and a pair of panties, floral pattern if you recalled correctly. Your clothes made up practically no barrier at all. 

“Do you want that?” he asked, and in the moment he seemed genuine in his inquiry. Like it would actually matter what you answered. Like you had to make the choice. 

A flash of fear tore through you, but this time it was from the potential loss of what you now had suspected was inevitable. What if you said no and he went away? Could you risk that when what he’d just said before seemed like the much needed absolution you’d been secretly praying for?

You couldn’t risk it. No matter that you hadn’t wanted it in the first place, had never invited it. That there was still a large part of you howling for your escape, to get away from this dangerous, violent stranger, to not let him take anything. 

You gave a tiny nod. A nod so tiny you hoped he would miss it. So tiny that anyone else that might’ve been in the room would miss it. Your admission, your surrender. 

Steve noticed, though, of course. 

He huffed a small laugh, almost disbelievingly. 

“My god,” he whispered, before leaning in. 

His lips pressed on yours, and the contact had your whole face flushing suddenly. Whatever you’d expected, a rather soft kiss wasn’t it. Still you couldn’t bring yourself to reciprocate, making you awkwardly still as Steve worked his lips over yours again, vying for entrance. Both his hands came up to cradle your face, thumbs coming down to apply pressure at your chin and jaw. The moment your lips opened from the down push of his fingers, his tongue was in your mouth, hot, heavy and searching. It was too much, too slick. 

You reeled back, trying to get your bearings, your mind trying so hard to keep up with everything that was happening. What you had seemingly agreed to, and what you hadn’t. His hands tightened as he held your face more sturdy, and a whimper left you. 

“Hmm, maybe I need to train you before I can expect you to be good,” he said musingly to himself. He suddenly flipped you back over, pushing your face into the door with a huge hand at the back of your head. 

“You will not refuse me,” he said as his free hand reached down to pull your shirt up over your ass to pool at your waist, the cool night air suddenly biting on your newly exposed skin. 

“I will get what I want, whether you give it or not. Though I’d prefer if you gave it,” he said, taking your panties in his fist and janking hard. Your body jolted in pain as the material snapped, leaving you bare for the world. 

You heaved for breath, fear and shock and horror pulsing through your veins, along with something else. Something that horrified you even more…anticipation. For his discipline.

Your panties were disregarded somewhere on the floor, and you heard the rustling of fabric behind you. Your body squirmed again, and you were scrambling to keep up, but everything was moving too fast. You’re not ready, he should see that. 

“If you don’t give it willingly, this won’t be pleasant for you. And I want it to be. So, so pleasant for you,” he husked in your ear, voice growing hoarse as he stepped closer again, and then his hand was down between your cheeks, seeking out your cunt. 

Finding it, he groaned in your ear, a low and rumbling sound, and then there was another pressure there, so intently pushing forward, in.

“No, no, please, wait-” you rushed out on a shaky breath, but it was too late.

He breached, and then his cock was sliding in, slowly, steadily against your barely lubricated walls, making your flesh give way to his want. 

Pushing half-way in, he stopped, and the pressure was like nothing you’d felt before, his girth astonishing. You wondered what it looked like for a moment before you could help yourself. 

Steve grunted behind you, pulling slightly out, and the drag of his cock inside you had your knees threatening to turn shaky. 

The hand not keeping your face pushed against the door, wrapped around your hip and pushed you slightly to tilt your hips backward, and then he slid all the way in, burying to the hilt, making your breath lodge in your throat painfully. 

You let out an alarmed sound as you tried to squirm away from the invasion, only managing to massage yourself on his cock. He made an answering hum. 

“Oh my god…you feel incredible. Don’t worry, sweets, I’ll make it good for you. But first I need to teach you what happens when you don’t comply,” he rumbled in your ear, pulling back to thrust back in. And then again, and again, and again, and you were heaving for breath against the pain of his cock against your non-wet walls, and the screaming of your nerves at the movement. 

He started to pick up a steady rhythm, one hand on your hip to keep your ass canted back, able to receive his whole rod as it speared you, and one on your head, effectively pinning you to the front door as he worked away. 

He grew more forceful, pulling almost completely out before pistoning back in, quicker, harder, and your flesh gave more way to it now, pliant for him, surrendering in every way, the slap of his hips against your ass evidence. Small grunts and moans were freely spilling from his mouth, making a tingle inside you grow. You’d never been with someone so vocal, someone so inherently erotic in their responses, so honest and eager in their show of pleasure. The pain was slowly tinged by pleasure, and you wondered just how much of a masochist you secretly were. 

The air was growing stuffy with your exertion, with the smell of sweat and musk and sex, and along with the ever dominating smell of Steve’s cedar scent it was intoxicating, making your cheeks heat with how good it smelled, how much you liked it. 

You found yourself holding still for him, still for it, wanting the force of it, on the verge of pushing back against it to get more. 

“There we are,” he said, and you could hear he was pleased. 

Please say it, say the words. 

“Finally admitting that you, uhn, want it, huh?” he taunted, his pace growing erratic as he plowed you, the door starting to rattle in front of you by the force. 

“Finally letting yourself give in to it, give it to me,” he continued, voice strained. You wondered if he was nearing the edge, something inside you growing frantic at the thought, anticipating his pleasure at you being…being…

“Taking it so well, being so good for it. For me,” he forced out through gritted teeth, and then he thrusted all the way in, moving in a filthy grind, pushing impossibly deeper, crowding you against the door as a down right feral growl left his mouth. His forehead, hot and sweaty, pushed into the crook of your neck, his open mouth warm and wet on the skin there.  

Goosebumps rose on the flesh all down your spine, and you shook violently, his words churning inside you, releasing a wave of thick, overwhelming pleasure like white hot lava. 

You couldn’t help your moan as his cock pulsed inside you, and you knew he was coming. Coming inside you, deep inside you, giving you his pleasure, giving you his praise. 

Your hands braced on the door started to push back, and you squirmed your whole body trying to get more friction, to get more of him, more. You weren’t ready for it to end, and you were desperate for your own release. You could feel it deep in your loins, sparking like electricity through your lower abdomen. A half-moan, half-sob left you. 

He kissed the sweat covered nape of your neck, a soothing hum vibrating against the skin there. 

“There, there, baby, don’t fret,” he whispered, breath still labored. 

He pulled out, his hands leaving your body, and you almost cried out at the loss of it. You started to turn back, searching for it, for something that could get you over the edge. 

“No, no, stay like that,” he said warmly before both his hands wrapped around your hips. You turned your head and met his gaze, pupils blown, heavy-lidded, as he got down on his knees. The sigh of relief leaving you as you realized what he was going to do had him huffing a pleased laugh in return. 

“Yes, darlin’, that’s exactly right” he said encouragingly, and you couldn’t help the heat tingling your cheeks at it. 

A small part of you was embarrassed being so intimately exposed to him, his face right there, seeing everything, smelling everything. But another, larger part of you wanted him there, wanted him closer, wanted him to taste.

He did as you wanted a moment later, leaning forward and letting his tongue tentatively lap at your center as his hands moved down to spread your cheeks wide, exposing you further. Your head hit the door with a soft thunk at the pleasure of his warm, wet tongue on your skin. 

He diligently mapped out your cunt with his tongue, and you could feel his cum leaking out of you, onto his tongue and then smearing over your flesh, making you slippery with it, dripping with it. He moaned against your mound and you shivered, the vibrations good, but not enough. 

“M-more,” you whispered. 

He grunted before pulling away. 

“What was that?” he asked, voice rough, but smiling. He was no doubt smiling. 

“More, please,” you reiterated, flushing hot with humiliation. Humiliation at being so needy for it, for this stranger that had forced on you what you hadn’t asked for in the first place, and then making you desperate for it. 

“Yes,” he hissed.

His hands gave your asscheeks a healthy squeeze before he dove in again, this time lapping more intently on you, locating your clit and sucking it softly into his mouth, making you keen. 

One of his thumbs inched inwards and located the furly, tight hole of your ass. You bucked away at the first touch of it, so foreign, so wrong. 

He tightened his hold on you, giving a warning noise, muffled where he was burying his face between your legs. You slowly inched back into it, fighting the tremors wrecking your body as his thumb relocated your asshole, lightly stroking around the sensitive skin before prodding softly, tongue still working away at your clit. 

A wretched moan left you, and your knees threatened to give out. There was still a small trickle of cum leaking out of you, and all the sensations combined were overwhelming, too much and not enough at the same time, making you scared of how much you needed it. 

His mouth left your clit to lick up your crack. He spat on your asshole, and then laughed, intrigued and pleased when you squeaked in surprise. You felt his tongue again, and now it was hot and slippery on your back entrance, laving more spit on it, drenching it around his own thumb. 

“Turn around,” he said suddenly, already maneuvering your body around to lean your back against the front door. God, you were still in the fucking hall way.

“Take that off,” he said, and you immediately tore your shirt off, somehow craving the feeling of being exposed for him now. 

“Good,” he said as his eyes rowed over your naked body, making you tingle all over again, heat sizzling on your cheeks at the praise both in his voice and his eyes. 

He grabbed your leg and draped it over his shoulder, leaning in to lap at your swollen clit again, and you gasped at how it made your nerve endings sing. You wobbled slightly balanced on one leg, and he steadied you with one hand on your leg as your hands scrambled for purchase at his head. 

He grunted, and you weaved your fingers into his hair, eliciting another, slightly more fervent grunt. 

It was all so good, so mind-numbingly good, making your breath thick with pleasure humming along deep within every muscle in your body. He lapped intently at your clit, building a rhythm, having tingles of pleasure turn into pulses of a building pressure inside you. You were right there, cramming for it, wanting it so bad. 

A finger moved back and located your slicked up asshole, and you knew you were going to blow, could feel the edge crumbling. 

His finger stroked your entrance, petted it, as his mouth gave off momentarily. 

“Look at me. If you don’t want me to stop, keep looking at me,” he said, and he sounded almost as gone as you were. 

“Fuck,” you huffed, and he hummed mischieviously before the finger gently stroking your asshole pushed inside, all the way to the second knuckle in one, smooth push. Your huff turned into a whine as your body seized at the intrusion, the muscles of your ass clamping down on his digit in spasms, not knowing how to handle the sensation. Your eyes squeezed close and his finger stilled. 

“Ah, ah, ah, what did I just say?” he asked. 

You forced your eyes open to meet his again, and was rewarded by a smile, before his mouth returned to your clit. You clutched his hair, moving along with him as he quickly brought you back to the edge. 

Your mouth opened on a silent whine as his finger started to steadily move in and out of your ass, and you could feel your cunt leaking your own slick now. You realized every reaction, every sound, every twitch you made was open for him to see now. That he was eagerly drinking every reaction he drew from your body. 

He licked at your clit once, twice more and then you came, the edge exploding away. You drew a shuddering breath only for it to force itself out on an almost alarmed sound as your clit pulsed, your cunt clamped around nothing and your asshole spasmed rhythmically around his finger, wave after wave of toe-curling pleasure surging through your body. Your knees gave out, and Steve brought his free hand up to effectively pin you to the door, the leg draped over his shoulder shaking. He moaned as he kept his tongue on your clit, just letting it pulse against it, drawing out your orgasm as you jolted on it, jolted on his finger as it sent electricity up your spine from where it was languidly pushing in and out of you, milking your orgasm out of you. 

You collapsed against the door, Steve pulling his finger out to catch you as you slumped down to the floor, aftershocks of the orgasm making you light headed. You had never had an orgasm like that before. 

Steve caught you and draped you across his lap, cradling you close. You could feel his half-hard cock against your belly, and some part of you wondered what that might feel like in your ass. 

What the hell is wrong with me, you thought helplessly and you stayed pliant in Steve’s arms, still feeling tingly. 

“Do you see now, sweetheart, how good it can be when you give in?” he asked,  his head dipping to catch your eyes with his. You could do nothing more but nod. 

He smiled and kissed you, his tongue invading your mouth. You wondered if you could taste his cum, or if the salty tang was all your own. Steve broke the kiss to look at you again. 

“The things I’m gonna do with you,” he mused, almost to himself, and brought a hand up to stroke your cheekbone almost lovingly with his thumb. 

§

Steve was thrusting his cock up into you slowly, steadily, predictably. It was all you needed, overwhelmed, overstimulated and desperate for it, again and again. You were straddling his hips in your bed, arms lax on his chest as he held your face in his hands, studying you as he pumped his cock almost nonchalantly into your dripping, swollen pussy. You keened, not able to keep your eyes open, not able to keep your mouth close, drool dripping from your lip embarrassingly. 

“Look at you,” he whispered, reaching up to give your open mouth a sweet, short kiss, almost a peck. You moaned, leaning in to get more, but he drew back, keeping your head in a steady lock. “So drunk off my cock, huh? Feel good?” 

You nodded dumbly, feeling too good indeed to do anything but feel the tingle of pleasure in your cheeks, the hum of it on your chest and arms, the pulse of it in your entire lower body, every nerve tuning in to where Steve’s cock was slowly and impeccably pushing the sensations into you, feeling high on it, intoxicated, drunk. 

“Good girl.”

§

A/N: Woooof, I enjoyed this one. Hope you did too ;*

This has turned into a miniseries with part two To give you what you need and part three Keeping you. 

/Masterpost/

#steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fanfic #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve rogers smut #soft!dark steve rogers #soft!dark steve rogers x reader #in the balance