#Steven grant noncon

[melodygatesauthor]

Steven Grant - Yandere Edition - Random Horny Thots #1 - Claiming

NSFW - NON-CON WARNING - Virgin Reader

——

Steven's been watching you for a long time, so imagine his excitement when he finally has you tied up, wrists stuck to the headboard and your mouth wrapped in duct tape. You're crying so hard while he's pressing himself against your tight and never broken entrance. He's prodding gently, feeling the resistance of your hole. His eyes are crazed with excitement. A trickle of drool is spilling down his chin.

"Oh love, no one's been in here before have they?" His face turned into an affectionate smile, "you've been savin' y'self just f'me? Darling, that makes me feel so special."

You're crying, and internally begging him to let you go, but he doesn't seem to care...or maybe he likes it.

He has the fat, bulbous tip of his cock in here. He can feel it stretch a little, and your screams get a little louder. He bites his lip, trying to contain his excitement. He pushes forward, feeling the way your tight hole gives out and tears around him. You shriek again, sobs getting heavier as you struggle.

"Now, now love. You're alright, shhhh," he grabs your hips tightly and leans in, kissing your tearstained cheeks.

Steven's enjoying it so much, listening to your little cries, but even more than that he enjoys the way your blood is painting his cock when he looks down at where your bodies are joined. He’s surprised at how wide he’s split you open, seeing your little pussy lips gripping around his cock so tightly. It’s almost too tight, but it feels so fucking good. You cry again; fresh sobs falling down your cheeks and soaking the pillow under your head.

“S’alright love, I know…” He leans forward, reaching his arms around your back and pulling you close, kissing just below your earlobe softly. “I’m happy too, so happy that you’ve given this to me. What a gift you are.”

He shudders, feeling such a sense of pride for being the only man to have you, and the only man to make you sound like this. You were crying tears of joy, he knew it had to be true. The noises were too good to be anything else. Of course you were a little pained, but it would feel better soon. You were meant to take him, it had to feel good.

He leaned back, lifting the backs of your legs and pushing your knees up by your head. He could see you all spread out now. He could watch your cunt swallowing around him. He could see the blood all over his length. He could hear you screaming louder in this new position, this tighter position.

“That’s it love, feels good dunnit? Yeah, bet it does. You like a bit of pain don’t you?”

All he can hear other than your muffled cries is the wetness between both of your bodies. Your cunt and his cock are drenched in fluids; a cocktail made up of your arousal, blood, and his precum, which you were certain he had a steady stream of since he started his assault.

When Steven comes, it’s messy, and he’s squeezing you so hard you think you might suffocate. His body is shaking, breath huffing out in sharp, short gusts, and he’s telling you how lucky you are to have someone like him giving you his all. No one else will ever love you like he can, and no one else will ever care for you the way he does.

“There love…” he says, wiping away your tears, “now you’re all mine. Molded your little cunt to fit around me perfectly.”

And with that, you belong to him, forever and always…

——

Any of my blurbs can be used as inspo for a fic. Please tag me for credit. Thank you!

Random Blurbs Masterlist

[ohlovxr]

happy birthday!!!! babe nobody writes perv shit as good as you do so if u wanna share any stepbro Steven thoughts on what happens in the summer when ur ac is broke and ur sleeping in those booty shorts, shuffling around in bed and moaning at the heat and he just can't keep his eyes off the way your tits are rising up and down, the way ur cunt is outlined by the wedgie ur shorts are giving you

this makes me 🫣 definitely not thinking about how he may or may not take out his pretty cock n jerk off to sight of you, just thinking about what it would be like to slide his cock between your pussy lips till you’re all slick n needy around him

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

upon his grace 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power dynamics, cheating, bullying, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are called to court after the end of the civil war, but find yourself facing many challenges, expected and not. (fantasy medieval au)

Characters: king!Steve Rogers

Note: bro, Idk how I start at point A and get to fucking outer space. Also happy bday to Steverino.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The gardens of Astra Castle are unlike any you’ve seen before. Certainly, you’ve never been to a royal castle previously. Your father’s own hold is modest, still bearing the wooden foundation, whereas the rich lords have poured mortar and built in stone. 

So, it is a great honour to be among the noble women chosen to serve the queen. Most unexpected. As a daughter of a lower house, it is rather unusual, but it comes with the newly set writ tabled at the end of the uprising. That is how your father tells it anyhow. 

King Steven is as newly crowned as he is newlywed. After a lengthy revolt against the previous king, the land has settled, and upon his victory, the new ruler promises the expansion of prosperity to all. The very precedence of his war rested on the greed of the former court and its covetous lords. 

To those who took up his mantle, he has made good his word. To the commoners, he has sent bread and ale, livestock and alms; to the nobles, he has granted titles and lands. You were of the same doubt as your father, however, you expected to be forgotten in the disarray. 

Yet, you were not. You’re there with several other ladies. A set of blond twins borne of a duke and duchess, the sole heir of a widowed countess, and several earl’s daughters such as yourself. Unlike them, you do not wear satin or silk, not muslin either. You have only the dyed linen your mother attempted to enhance with some embroidery around the cuffs and collar. 

“Marcia and Marigold,” the twins introduce themselves as you cluster together in the gardens, grooms and servants bustling around carriages and chests. “Lady Calliope,” they call out the countess’ daughter, “we met prior, yes? Your mother is near Estrela.” 

“She is,” Calliope answers in her stern manner, herself seeming a widow in her black dress. The shimmery fabric makes up for its single tone. 

“Ameri, Dorida, and... Selene,” they point to the other girls, themselves clothed in scarlet, rose, and azure respectively. “We know the earls, your fathers. They gathered at our father’s hold for the battle near Caffre.” 

The twins take turns speak so that sometimes you cannot track whose lips are moving. It is even that they trade off in the middle of sentences. You find yourself almost as lost by their words as your new surroundings. 

“And you...” The twins turn their jade eyes upon you. It is there you have found the only difference in them; they have the same heights, the same hair, the same gowns even, but there is a sliver of grey through Marcia’s green iris. “We haven’t figured who you are.” 

“My father is an earl. In Woodsdam.” 

“Woodsdam,” they echo in unison and share a look. They are perplexed. 

“A minor house,” Calliope provides. “a farmer more than a noble, if I’m not mistaken.” 

“We have vast lands and we tend to them, yes,” you assure. You expect their condescension. Your father warned you for it but he bid that you keep your chin up. The king has given him a mission of his own and so you will represent the family for the time. “We keep our people well and we fed the king’s troops when they marched." 

“Mm, sounds very... common,” Marigold grins and her sister snorts into her hand. 

“We know many lords like us, yes. They work hard amidst their vassals. It keeps the lands strong so that we may better serve the crown,” you return evenly.  

Your mother helped you prepare. She coached you to keep your manners and your spine. The latter is much more difficult as you face these ladies and their bobbles with only a ribbon in your hair and a pair of patched gloves. 

“Woodsdam? I think I rode through it once on the way to my grandfather’s summer castle,” Ameri tuts, “it was little more than a swamp.” 

“It must’ve been the spring rains, perhaps, lady,” you offer. 

“Summer house,” she enunciates, “one travels there in the summer.” 

Your cheek twitches at her barbed retort. Very well. You are not used to their sharpness. Their chittering has thus far centered on gossip and the cost of their new caps. 

“A wonder the pauper’s daughter received an invite. Are you certain you can read, lady?” Dorida snipes and looks to the twins for approval. You notice how they all tend to do so. 

“It was sent to my father, Lord Eldon,” your voice quavers. You are not so strong as your mother bid you to be.  

They cackle at your meek response, “the precious maiden of Woodsdam.” 

You put your head down as the activity all around threatens to swallow you up. You wish the ground would rent and you would fall right through. All your excitement has dissipated to a sludge in your veins. You touch your cheek as you try not to show your embarrassment. 

“The Lord of Woodsdam,” a deep voice startles you as boots approach from behind, “is that what I heard?” 

You stiffen up as the ladies before you hush and blink, almost in tandem. They curtsey as their faces wash over in shock and you turn to face the newcomer. A man in a deep blue vest over black sleeves and grey breeches. He wears belt of gold and a circlet across his brow in a similar hue. It is that which betrays his statues. 

You lower your eyes and mimic the other women, mortified to be faced with new king so informally. You would not think him wandering out in the yard. Still, he has vowed to be unlike the former leige. That he would be of the people. 

“King Steven, your majesty,” the others titter in a messy chant and you murmur your own propriety as you back away. You find yourself still to the shoulder of the king as the other ladies give no room for you to join. 

The vision of him stains your mind. He is tall, with dark blond tresses that extend past his neck, and blue eyes which put his own attire to shame. He has a jaw which looks etched in stone and a bearing which matches his rank. He is tall and broad and a finely built knight. 

“It is an honour,” Marcia says most boldly. 

“You may rise,” he allows in a breezy timbre. “I did hear my wife would receive new ladies. Young ladies.” 

“Your majesty,” the murmur rolls across each lip. 

“It is much needed. We have so many established ladies at court and yet we need to think of the future. Of the next generation,” he declares as he emphasizes his words with his large hand. You watch his garnet ring to keep from so brazenly looking him in the face. 

“Certainly, your majesty,” Marcia and Marigold chime in unision. 

“And don’t worry for there are many young lords as well,” the king laughs galely at the quip which makes the ladies, yourself included, blush. “Ah, then, Woodsdam I believe we were speaking of...” 

You blink and glance at the other ladies. They are cowed, unsure if they were overheard in their derision. You hope as much as they that they were not. It is rather unflattering. 

“My father, Lord Eldon,” you explain, “your majesty.” 

“You? You are the young lady of Woodsdam I heard so much of.” 

“You did? Er, your majesty,” you curtsey apologetically; unnecessarily. 

“Certainly, I did. Your father was a great assistance in me holding counsel with the lower lords. He is very patient. “When not about his duty, he spoke of you oft. Though what matters are more important than family?” 

“Yes, your majesty,” you can’t help a smile, “my father is a very kind man.” 

“Kind and courageous. I’m certain you’ve inherited as much,” the king praises, “and these other ladies. The twins who belong to Mawsley, the Countess of Clovers daughter, and the three earls daughters from the White Plains.” 

The ladies each bow their heads as he proclaims them by their forebearers’ titles. You watch from aside, feeling even more out-of-place. The king recites them all proudly as he extends a finger for each. 

“Allow me myself to extend a welcome to Astra. When you are sorted, my wife shall receive you all and have you acquainted with the grounds. I hope you enjoy them, we’ve had the gardeners at work day and night,” he pronounces, “for now, I must be off, for a king has many obligations and not so much time.” 

He bows and turns on his heel, marching off with his shoulder straight and head high. He walks as a soldier does, not some lord. You’ve seen the difference before, more recently in the aftermath of battle. A soldier is more akin to a farmer, much as your father, whereas a Lord tends to keep his steps tight. 

“Wow, oh my,” Dorida fans herself, “he is rather handsome.” 

“Oh yes,” Marcia and Marigold say, the latter forging ahead, “we met him at our father’s castle. He is ever so charming.” 

“Hm, and the queen would love to hear it, I’m certain,” Calliope intones brusquely. 

“The queen is not here,” Ameri sneers, “so what does it matter? Besides, is it so wrong to state a truth?” 

“He is very elegant,” Selene agrees. 

“Much too kind, as well,” Marigold snips, “Woodsdam? He speaks as if it more than some paltry farmhouse.” 

“You’d never even heard of it,” Calliope remarks. 

“And how had you, hm? You seem the bookish type. Perhaps you should leave the maps to the men. What good will a river or road do for a widow’s welp?” 

“Needn’t be cruel,” Calliope rebuffs. 

“Pity if this is the lot they send,” Marcia shakes her head as the sisters share another cryptic look. 

You keep to yourself. That is all you can do. It is better to watch and learn than to leap and land wherever you might. Your mother always said so and she was your best teacher. 

“Right, there must be some maid who might show us to our rooms,” Marigold stands on her toes and waves at each passing servant. “I tire of the sunlight and boorish company.” 

👑

You have two trunks awaiting you in your chambers. Not as the other ladies who had at least a dozen each. Less humble than your lunger are the rooms themselves.

There is an antechamber hung with tapestries showing wildlife and flora, a table set for two and cushioned bench by the window. The bedroom is draped in similar hangings with a four-post bed and a grand hearth. A desk, another bench, a woven carpet, and fine accouterments on square tables. And a closet for the commode as well and a pot in the far corner of the bedchamber. 

If only your mother and father could see this. They would be just as amazed. You can’t help but admire all of it. To touch the curtains as you approach the window and stare off at the afternoon sky. The gardens are a medley of hues; petals and thorns; leaves and dirt. It’s all so wonderful, you can still hardly believe it. 

Seems those other ladies can’t either. You can’t help but think of their words anon. They said so outrightly what you doubted inwardly. You don’t belong here. It must be so clear to them. 

You lean on the ledge and peer down into the garden pathways. It is almost a labyrinth with how intricately they’ve laid out the hedges. You lower yourself down to your elbows and cross your arms as you sigh. 

Your eyes are drawn from the swaying roses to the dark speck that appears below. You squint at first. From the second floor, it is harder to discern. It is the glimmer of gold in his hair and the defined gait that gives away the king. For an instant, you believe you might be dreaming. 

He walks along one path and to the next. There is another with him. A man with darker hair and a stauncher figure. They speak and stop just as they enter a circled walkway centered by a large vase of flowers. The other man talks, though you can hear neither, and the king rubs his chin. 

You should turn away. They might think you an eavesdropper. Oh, too late! You don’t dare move as the king tilts his head. You wouldn’t want to pique his attention. You cannot tell if he has spotted you. Not until he raises a hand and waves. The other man stops and looks to follow the gesture. 

You stand up straight but before you can flee in horror, you recall yourself. It is improper to turn your back to the king. You lift your hand and return the wave. He dips his head and turns to clap his companion’s shoulder, pointing him onward. 

Oh, you hope he is not unhappy. If you pray, perhaps he will not have recognised you. You needn’t an enemy of the king as well. 

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Current Tag List - Updated 30/10/24

• ao3 • want to be tagged? • Requests Info • blog of fanfics I've written only • wips list • ko-fi • If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here •

All Oscar Isaac Characters

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @whatthefishh

@romanarose @strangerhands @saturn-rings-writes

@steven-grants-world  @eyelessfaces @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @lunar-ghoulie

@silvernight-m @autismsupermusicalassassin @reallyrallyauthor @basicalyrandom

@alwaysmicado @mangoslushcrush @marc-spectorr @spxctorsslxt @novarosewood 

@pygmi-cygni @hammerhead96 @emma23 @sub-aro @killerdollz

 @maplemind  @mwltwo @loonymagizoologist @dameronshandholder @queerly-anxious

@homuraak3mi @swiftiegirliepop @oscarssimp @milkypompon @eternallyvenus 

@lounilu @avengersinitiative2012 @pigeonmama @marcsb1tch 

@iolaussharpe-24 @chaithetics @DowBaStan @faretheeoscar@lonelyisamyw-0love 

@queerponc @twwcs @Spnwhore2430 @ominoose

@ierofrnkk @have-you-seen-my-sanity @to-be-a-sunshine @blushingrn @missdictatorme

@musicalnacho

Extra Information: @maplemind - no alpha/beta/omega • @ominoose - I did have you listed as 'no chaptered fics', but this has now been corrected • @pygmi-cygni - no miguel o'hara •

Individual Characters

(if you are on 'all' you are automatically in all of the characters listed below)

Steven Grant

@soft-girl-musings @hammerhead96 @emma23 @sub-aro @killerdollz

@mwltwo @loonymagizoologist @dameronshandholder @queerly-anxious

@homuraak3mi @swiftiegirliepop @oscarssimp @milkypompon @eternallyvenus 

@mandytrekkie @novarosewood @pygmi-cygni @purple-amaranthe @amasdaydream

@i-have-all-these-freakin-uwus @casa-boiardi @bookoffracturedescapes @pigeonmama

@theratscorner @krakenkitty @brunlocc @sergeant102105 @weekendgothgirl

@klillah @howellatme @mystic-writings @f0url3af @buckyssugarchick

@mari-thesimp

Marc Spector

@soft-girl-musings @hammerhead96 @emma23 @sub-aro @killerdollz

 @mwltwo @loonymagizoologist @dameronshandholder @queerly-anxious

@homuraak3mi @swiftiegirliepop @oscarssimp @milkypompon @eternallyvenus 

@mandytrekkie @theratscorner @krakenkitty @casa-boiardi @i-have-all-these-freakin-uwus

@amasdaydream  @purple-amaranthe @brunlocc @bookoffracturedescapes @marcsb1tch 

@pigeonmama @sergeant102105 @weekendgothgirl @mari-thesimp

@klillah @howellatme @mystic-writings @f0url3af @buckyssugarchick

@silvernight-m

Jake Lockley

@soft-girl-musings @casa-boiardi @theratscorner @krakenkitty @amasdaydream

@i-have-all-these-freakin-uwus  @purple-amaranthe @brunlocc @bookoffracturedescapes

@marcsb1tch @pigeonmama @sergeant102105 @weekendgothgirl @silvernight-m

@klillah @howellatme @mystic-writings @f0url3af @buckyssugarchick

@mari-thesimp

Poe Dameron

@soft-girl-musings @krakenkitty @marcsb1tch @pigeonmama @klillah

@howellatme @mystic-writings @f0url3af

Blue Jones

@soft-girl-musings @krakenkitty  @purple-amaranthe @marcsb1tch 

@howellatme @mystic-writings@f0url3af @sapphossongbird

Duke Leto Atreides

@theratscorner @pigeonmama @howellatme

Jonathan Levy

@howellatme @marcsb1tch @pigeonmama

Nathan Bateman

@krakenkitty @sapphossongbird @purple-amaranthe @marcsb1tch @pigeonmama@mystic-writings @sapphossongbird

Rydal Keener

@soft-girl-musings @marcsb1tch @Silver-night-m @howellatme

Miguel O'Hara

@theratscorner @soft-girl-musings @marcsb1tch @pigeonmama @bookoffracturedescapes 

@howellatme @aly29a2001

Santiago Pope Garcia

@klillah @mystic-writings

Anselm Vogelweide

@howellatme @sapphossongbird

Richard Mũnoz

@brunlocc

Extra Information: @soft-girl-musings - no smut • @purple-amaranthe - no horror/noncon • @brunlocc - all stuff that mentions the moon boys •

[autismode]

SEEKING MOON KNIGHT RP

Hello! I'm Mercury! I'm 22 years old, she/her pronouns, CDT, looking for partners aged 21 years and older ONLY to roleplay in a setting based on/canon to the show Moon Knight! I would be writing the Moon System-- AKA Marc Spector, Steven Grant, Jake Lockley, and Khonshu, all would be played by me.

I write up to 500+ words per reply, and like to think myself very literate.

I can write action OR slice of life, and smut is on the table for those interested. I'm willing to do Canon x Canon AND OC x Canon, just as long as I get to write my boys. I prefer MxM or NBxM above all else, but can be flexible.

I LOVE alternate universes. I am willing to do an AU of almost anything so long as it isn't problematic/uncomfortable/illegal.

I would like to become friends outside of our RP! :) Please tell me about your day and message me as often as you like about pinterest boards/aesthetics, playlists/music, art/fanart, writing/drabbles, etc!

I prefer DISCORD to anything else, but can also use designated RP websites where formatting is permitted and encouraged. :)

I WILL NOT ROLEPLAY THE FOLLOWING:

NONCON/DUBCON/RAPE

PEDOPHILIA/UNDERAGE NSFW

ZOOPHILIA/FERAL ANIMAL NSFW

NECROPHILIA/ANYTHING SIMILAR

FETISHISTIC HOMOPHOBIA/TRANSPHOBIA/RACISM

PROSHIP CONTENT/IDEALS

ETC. PLEASE DON'T BE CREEPY <3

FEEL FREE TO MESSAGE ME IF INTERESTED! :D

[kechiwrites]

| kinktober week two | ♱ final girl ♱ | slasher!steve rogers x reader |

synopsis: “for steve, you are a very special victim.”

wc: 1k

cw: dark content, fem reader, noncon, creampies, unprotected sex, biting, bruising, violence, minor character death, stalking, pet names (pretty girl, sweetheart), dacryphilia. I am not responsible for your consumption babes. NO MINORS.

author’s note: first dark fic i’ve ever shared, and for my day one fixation, captain america. there’s something wrong with him. i just know it.

♱ find the rest of my kinktober masterlist here ♱

Your head is spinning, the light from your neighbour’s halloween decorations cast your room in sickly orange and yellow light. Everything about it is making you ill, and you screw your eyes closed to keep your stomach from expelling its contents everywhere.

“Open your eyes, pretty girl. Please.” You can feel him shift over you, and when he pats your face, you open your eyes, glassy with tears, to stare at him. There’s sticky, drying blood covering the lower half of his face, and the dirty penny smell of it threatens to make you sick all over again. He smiles at you, perfect white teeth and pink lips, blonde hair and blue, blue eyes. 

“Go on, you can cry.” 

How magnanimous.

You’re covered in bite marks, some are shallow, some lightly bleed out of tender and broken skin. Where you aren’t bitten, there are hickeys, pockmarking his journey exploring your body, staking his claim on your throat and chest and hips and thighs. The bruises aren’t so bad, in the grand scheme of things, you can almost forget they exist when he isn’t pushing his thumb into them to watch you squirm.

Hell, they’re practically bug bites compared to the state of your boyfriend’s dead body downstairs.

He looms above you and he is so goddamn big, blocking out the hazy stream of your bedroom lights while he fucks you desperately. Hands roaming mindlessly, without purpose but with so much pleasure over the rise and curve of your stomach, your tits, your face.

You choke out, "Please don't hurt me." and his hips stutter, balls slapping against your ass and staying there, like he's trying not to come. You bear down on him, and a fresh wave of tears spills over your cheeks as you’re pushed over the edge, mind swimming in pain and sorrow and hot, hot heat. 

“Steve, please. I don’t want to d-”

"Shut up. Shut up. Please, shut the fuck up.” He groans, closing his hand around your tit and squeezing hard. He’s getting off on it, you realize. You want to live through this so badly, and that turns him on. “Can't -, I don't want to" he trails off when he starts pounding you again, the squelching, wet sounds of you taking him, letting him burrow deep within you filling the cramped, cluttered room, bouncing off your childhood toys and boy band posters. Your pink princess sheets are soaked with slick and sweat and two of his loads soaking your back that'd been displaced by the brutal thickness of his cock carving into you.

You grip at his arms as they hold you down, your nails digging into his skin, and he stops again, anchoring up and off you to peer at your face. 

"Be good, like I know you can be and it'll all be over soon. I promise."

Impossible.

You choke on your own sob, and bite down on your tongue to stop yourself from lashing out. He’s clearly sick in the head, and when this is all over, when he lets you go like he promised he would, you swear to god in heaven and the devil below that you’d wipe this all from your mind. You’d burn the sheets and maybe even your bed too. And a little voice in your head whispers over the sound of him messily, greedily fucking you open, that you’d need evidence, some way of proving that it was local hero, universally adored firefighter, Steven Grant Rogers that’d been killing people for the past year and a half. Steven Grant Rogers who had been stalking you for weeks in an unfamiliar brown sedan before he’d made his move. Steven Grant Rogers who’d taken his sweet time cutting your boyfriend to ribbons before he’d chased you up the stairs, two steps at a time and locked the bedroom door behind him, as if he was worried someone would interrupt. 

You didn’t need evidence. Because no one would believe you. If you even got the chance to tell them. 

Your body shudders, fear and pleasure tangling together and burrowing deep in the pit of your stomach, snagging on your insides like hooked burrs, only tearing free when he rips another orgasm from your overstimulated, woefully overworked body. 

“Good, so good sweetheart. There you are.” You can tell he loves it, the involuntary show of ecstasy, the way you’re too far gone to resist anymore, the way your legs wrap around his middle and push you ever closer without your permission.

But your permission doesn’t matter much, apparently.

His hands sink into your flesh so deeply you cry out, but what’s more bruises on top of the ones he’s already given you? What’s one more round of his seed fucked into you, soaking the walls of your cunt? What’s one more scream into the apathetic, inky black night?

Steve’s teeth dig into the flesh of your chest, then he laves the stinging spots with his tongue. A particularly rough thrust pushes you up the bed, and without missing a beat he follows your aching body, forcing your pussy to part around him, to welcome yet another rush of his cum within you. He tugs at your nipples with roughened fingers, calloused by the fireman’s axe he used to obliterate your front door. His lips cover your pulse, sucking hard at the skin, like he was trying to taste your heartbeat, erratic and sugar sweet. Your clit thrums, untouched and begging for attention, but Steve pulls out, rubbing the slick skin of his cock over the insides of your thighs. 

“You know, I was so sure I was going to have to slit your throat after this. And I didn’t want to, not when I knew you’d be tight, so sweet.” His voice is broken glass and black velvet, it cuts and soothes, wrings everything out of you before it forces you to swallow it all down, only restart the process all over again. 

“But now,” He sighs dreamily, whispering like he’s sharing a inside joke between two friends, “I have to keep you.”

when my husband proofread this he said i was sick. :)

[psychedelic-ink]

*the banner (& mastelist overall) is heavily influenced by my dearest @inklore 's kinktober masterlist and I urge everyone to go and check her deliciously smutty list out 💜

— 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 ‘𝟐𝟐

hi lovelies! my favorite time of the year has finally arrived-- under the cut you'll find all the things I've written for this years kinktober, the list will be updated as we go, enjoy 💜

(🖤) indicates dark content/check trigger warnings

i made a taglist for kinktober which you can join but if that's not your thing you can simply follow my library blog and turn on notifs!

before reading anything please thoroughly read the warnings since some of them include heavier kinky scenarios

i won't be listing the ones i plan on writing as to not limit myself to a list and so I can change characters/kinks as i please and without worry. the fics listed below have already been written and scheduled to post

main masterlist

1 | me & mine: pero tovar x reader x ezra | double penetration

after coming to a new city, you find yourself in your hotel room with two unbelievably attractive men.

2 | marked man: pero tovar x reader | dry humping, squirting

despite the fact that you shouldn't, you can't help but continue to visit the prisoner that you still didn't know the name of. An unexpected visitor shows up.

3| daddy issues: matt murdock x reader | blood kink, boxer au

you're tired of seeing him getting purposefully beat up every night. matt tries to reason with you.

4| poison & wine: duke leto x reader x din djarin | spit roasting

the razor crest is low on fuel and din knows the perfect pit spot.

5| dear friend,: ezra x reader | phone sex, dirty talking

you've been friends with ezra for a while now. after talking on the phone and making plans to meet up tomorrow, ezra thinks he hung up. you can't help but listen in as he gives a woman you don't know the time of her life. 

6| save tonight: frankie morales x reader x santiago garcia | cuckolding, degradation

frankie comes with you with a proposal that you're eager to accept.

7| river: din djarin x reader | dacryphilia

din likes it when you cry for him.

8| choke on flowers: dieter bravo x reader | cult, blackmail 🖤

dieter is a mess, but you enjoy being with him nonetheless. but things start to change when a friend of his comes for a visit.

9| careless: frankie morales x reader x jack daniels | lactation kink, titjob

you get hit with a drug that makes you lactate, frankie and jack are more than eager to help you out.

10| stupid for you: steven grant x reader | orgasm denial, brat taming, mirror sex

steven wants you to admit he's the best you ever had, as always you don't make it easy for him

11| one touch: javier peña x reader | somnophilia

you've been set on trying to convince javier to take what he wants, for him to let go and he finally does.

12| like that: modern!pero tovar x reader | knife play

there's a storm raging outside and you go down to the basement to look at a Pero's knife collection while he's gone.

13| loverboy: tom!peter parker x reader | choking, breathplay

you get trapped in your sweater, peter has a unique way of helping you out.

14| 3 AM: dbf!santiago garcia x reader | dry humping, quiet sex

santi comes to your room for a visit at 3 AM.

15| hit the road: jack daniels x reader | consensual noncon

It's late when you leave the office, you feel a pair of familiar eyes watching you.

16| heat waves: dieter bravo x reader | temperature play, food play

dieter wants to try something new.

17| is forever for you?: jake lockley x reader | corruption kink, sex toys

jake is always eager to teach.

18| no brakes: din djarin x reader | hate fucking

you have a bounty on your head, din takes the job.

19| tag, you're it: frankie morales x reader | pray/predator kink, gun kink

once a month you and frankie play a game.

20| after hours: javier peña x steve murphy x reader x horacio carillo

after another day of being unsuccessful in catching escobar, you offer the boys another way of relief.

21| pumpkin seeds: poe dameron x reader | sex pollen, outdoors

you and poe fin yourself on a pumpkin infested planet, however the flowers that surround them seem to be poisonous.

22| arise sun: william tell x reader | pussy slapping

William Tell is a dangerous man. You should’ve known better than to piss him off. 

23| one more hour: marcus pike x reader | monsterfucking

you and marcus are asked to investigate an old manor that might have stolen paintings. however, due to problems with your schedule, Marcus heads there before you, getting himself cursed while investigating. You find him, or at least something that you think is him, at the manor two days later.

24| home economics: javi g x reader | voyeurism

Javi sees you naked for the first time which should be a good thing, but you have idea that he can see you through the window.

[mossy-stars]

I saw you are taking requests for fics... and i just wanna suggest one. since im sucker for proffesor x student ship. can you write something about Steven/Marc Prof x reader. alsoo *cough smut pls *cough thank you bestie

Good girl - Professor Steven Grant/Marc Spector x Reader

Pairing: Professor Steven Grant/Marc Spector x fem!Reader

Summary: What plot? It's just horny reader attending class and being ducked by her teacher..

Content/Warnings: Dubcon, but a little bit noncon. Smut. Swearing words. Did I mention smut already?

Words: 1497

“And does anyone know the answer to question 6 B?” the professor says with his British accent. Some people raise their hands but you are too busy with your thoughts. How is your history professor so cute? Sometimes you just wanna be tied up with his tie and-

“Miss Y/N?” Everyone looks at you, including the handsome professor. His eyes always look tired like he hasn’t slept forever. They also look a bit scared, like he’s always anxious. His whole body language is hesitant, but sometimes though.. He’s radiating confidence. Those days are rare, but still there. On those days, it seems like only you notice that his vibe changed. He would still have a light accent, but it feels fake. Like somebody else is trying to impersonate professor Grant..

“Oh yes, Khonshu.. Is uh..” you quickly look at your notes. “The god of the moon!” You look up again and blush at the slight smile the professor gives. Gosh you wish he smiled at you like that when he is buried deep in your cunt. You gather yourself from your thoughts and realise that the professor has walked up to your seat.

“Good girl, only you should pay more attention to the lesson.” the brunette whispers. And you feel even more heat rising to your cheeks on the first two words. The professor walks back to his own seat. He frowns and his eyes are full of confusion and it looks like he doesn’t remember what just happened.

“A-anyways. That was the last question. Dismissed.” Professor Grant says to the whole class. Everyone begins grabbing their books and putting them in their backpacks. You start doing the same.

“Oh and Y/N, could you come to my office after your lessons?” the professor hesitantly says.

You look up at him and say, “Of course professor.” You immediately start worrying. Have you done anything wrong? Are you in trouble?

—

Those questions keep pestering you in your next class, English. Luckily the woman who gives you English notices you are a bit stressed and leaves you be for most of the lesson. You finish all your work and get dismissed, you quickly grab your stuff and leave. You head over to your history professor’s office. The walk isn’t long because the office part of your school is next to the classrooms.

You knock 3 times and wait for an answer of some kind. You look around you, you haven’t been here very often. Just once when you had to discuss your grades.

“Yeah come in!” the professor says with his cute British accent again. You open the door to see the professor on a red couch on the side of his room. The rest of the room is very messy. Only the middle of his desk is tidy, you assume it’s because his laptop should fit there.

“Oh right, miss Y/N.” he looks stressed. He mutters something you can’t quite hear. Abruptly he stands up and looks darkly at you. This is the confident version of Professor Grant you notice almost immediately. Scared you start walking backwards a bit.

He smirks and says, “I’ve been waiting so long for this moment, little one.” He walks over to you, you think. But just before he is in your space he walks over to the door and locks it. You look confused and scared at the brunette.

“Professor? Uh- What, I-” You ask him as he slowly corners you to the desk.

“Sush, and call me Marc.” his arms pin you down by grabbing your wrists and putting them against the empty spot on the desk.

“I made Steven clean his desk specially for this moment.” You look even more confused and start babbling.

“Steven? That’s Professor Grant right? But you said to call you Marc? What the fuck is going on please just-” That’s when Marc had enough of your mouth and put his large hand over it.

“Shut up, you dumb little girl wouldn’t understand.” He removes his hand again and before you can talk his lips are on yours. It is a very forceful kiss, he tries to go in with his tongue but your mouth protests by being sealed tight. Then Marc? Marc, puts one hand on your throat and the other caresses to your clothed pussy.

You moan a bit louder than you would have wanted, how has he affected you? But because of your moan your mouth opens slightly just enough for Marc to put his lips in between your lips into your mouth. You groan as he explores every bit of your mouth and leaves no place untouched. He keeps kissing you roughly as he chokes you a bit tighter and caresses your clothed cunt firmer.

Because of all the rough kissing and choking you almost run out of breath. Before that happens however, he lets go of your throat and leaves your lips. His lips don’t go entirely away though. You take deep breaths now it’s possible, while you do that, Marc’s lips and tongue go down your neck, he sucks and bites the skin while you moan at one particular bite.

Marc then completely leaves your body and tears off your shirt and skirt. You look at him shocked and say. “What do I have to wear when I leave now?” And he replies.

“Who said you could leave?” And he clips off your bra now you sit up a bit. Then he goes on with his sucking on your neck and slowly starts going to your breasts. Once arrived there he starts nipping your nipples. He gives a little bite and goes to your still clothed region. He leaves a trail of saliva on your body and because the window is ajar the wind comes by. Which makes you shiver.

“Excited are we?” Marc half asks half states. He slides off your panties all the way off. His hands caress your legs slowly up to your nether region.

He slides his fingers in your wet folds and starts rubbing your clit with two fingers. Not shortly after, those two fingers make their way into your drenching pussy. On that action you moan loudly.

“Such a good girl, taking my fingers so well.” Marc grins up at you from his position, he continues staring at how you take his fingers.

“You’re a good slut for us.” Marc mutters. Which you hear. You look confused at his words but let it go because the pleasure is getting overwhelming.

Marc starts fastening his fingers’ pace. And you feel getting closer and closer to an orgasm. You moan more and tighten on his fingers. Marc takes it as a sign you’re close. He starts rubbing your clit with his thumb.

“Ahh mmh. Please- Let me-” Before you can finish your sentence, he pulls away his fingers. You whine. A string of wetness follows his fingers. Then he puts them in his mouth. Sucking them off while looking at you intensely.

“Why did you-” His cock touches your folds. You whimper and thrust your hips forward trying to get some pleasure. But he quickly fills you to the brim.

He stays still for a moment letting you adjust to his length. You moan and whimper, your whole body asks for him to fuck you.

And fucking you he does.

He starts thrusting hard, deep and fast. Like there’s no tomorrow. He then pulls his cock almost entirely out. Only to go even deeper if that’s even possible.

You moan at every movement. Marc puts his hand on your throat again, choking you lightly. So you can breathe normally but still feel arousal brewing up more and more.

He starts grunting more and his thrusts become a bit sloppy. His orgasm comes closer. You realise now that you’re not on any form of birth control and he’s not wearing a condom.

“No stop!” You scream. He looks at you knowingly and goes faster chasing his orgasm.

“Gonna put something of mine in you..” He grunts and stops moving his hips. He leans forward over you on the desk and his cock goes deeper as he orgasms.

He fills you up and there seems to be no end of his hot cum filling you full. At the feeling you almost pass out. You orgasm so severely, you’ve never experienced something like this.

Marc thrusts a few times slowly in your limp body, with the intent to make his cum go deeper in your body. You see stars appearing in your vision and soon black out.

Marc pulls out thinking he’s done enough today. He puts 2 fingers in your throbbing pussy to make the dripping cum go in again and then easily lifts you over to the couch.

Steven gets control back of the body and nearly falls of shock of seeing you limp before him.

“Marc, what did you do?” he whispers stressfully. Looking up hoping for answers.

“Helping you properly fuck her, obviously.”

---

A/N;

This is my first ever smut story I've written feedback is welcome. Also, I researched on DID but I'm no professional, so again feedback is welcome. I hope you enjoyed. <3

(I'm really proud of this because I hit more that 1000 words!! Likes, comments and reblogs are much appreciated!!)

[inklore]

are you too missing moon knight wednesdays? hungover from seeing our favorite moon boys kick ass and look exceptionally good while doing so? are you sitting on the edge of your seat waiting for marvel to give us a season two or at least a movie appearance? well then welcome to the hang(over) the moon writing challenge!

HANG(OVER) THE MOON!

hello, darlings! if you couldn’t already tell from the above we, as many others, are quite hungover from the moon knight finale. so what does one do when they can’t get over a show and are impatiently waiting for more content? you come up with a writing challenge to ease the pain, to bring the moon knight hoes together to create the content marvel is withholding from us! 

so @burnthoneymint and i decided to come up with this challenge not only for the reasons above but also because we love the show, the characters, actors, to the point of feral addiction and we know so many others that feel the same way. 

below you will find all the rules, guidelines, start and end date, theme and basis of the challenge. we hope that our fellow moon knight lovers will join in and we’ll all be blessed with more amazing content, and hopefully ease the pain of this hangover! 

THE CHALLENGE!

the theme for this challenge is: mythology with a modern twist! it can be any mythology, any myth, whatever tale, story, dynamic, it can be your typical hades and persephone or it can be a myth no one knows too much about, it can be greek, egyptian, norse, it’s all welcome and encouraged! 

we do not have a set list of what myths you can and cannot use in hopes that it will help creativity blossom and give everyone more open options to all of the different myths and mythologies out there. but if you do need some guidance in the subject please feel free to message either one of us. 

the only thing that it must have/feature is a modern twist. you can choose to incorporate that in whatever way you see fit, i’m sure whatever your wonderful minds come up with it will be amazing. 

RULES AND GUIDLINES!

THIS IS A STRICTLY 18+ CHALLENGE, minors please dni.

genres that are welcome: smut, fluff, angst, dark, dubcon, noncon, etc. the only thing we ask is that you please add the proper content warnings.

content and genres that are not welcome: incest, underage, necrophilia, feet and scat kink, watersports, age play, and race play. pieces with any of the following will be ignored. 

you do not have to be following either of us to be able to join in / submit a piece, as well as there is no need to ‘sign up’ or send in an ask to join, anyone is welcome, encouraged and allowed.

there is no limit to how short or long the piece needs to be. just please add the ‘read more / keeping reading’ feature if it goes past 300-500 words, out of respect for everyone's thumbs when scrolling. 

feel free to add any tropes, settings, relationship dynamics, etc. let your creativity prosper, you do not have to just stay in the realm of the ‘typical myth’, especially with the added modernity. 

do not worry or stress your little minds with someone choosing the same myth as you, everyone writes different, has their own style and way of telling a story so there may be  similarities on the myth and ship, but that is as far as it will go. 

please tag @burnthoneymint​ and @inklore​ once you have posted your piece, as well as including the #hangoverthemoonchallenge or #moonknightwritingchallenge in the tags of the post.

CHARACTERS APLLICABLE!

marc spector, steven grant, jake lockley, layla el-faouly, khonshu

if there is another character from the show you would like to write (as the main love interest) then please feel free to message us and ask. but harrow will not be accepted, respectfully no. you may add any other character from the show as a side character, villain, etc, though. 

you can write about more than one of the boys, or characters, as the love interest. poly fics are more than welcome and highly encouraged!

START AND END DATE!

START DATE: NOW END DATE: AUGUST 6TH

[runa-falls]

THIS BITCH IS CRAZY 💀 HOLY SHOT

DELULU ASF FOR OUR STEVEN

AHHH 2K IM SO HAPPY FOR U 🥳🥳

for the celebration: maybe a blurb about steven x yandere!reader 👀

Oh bitch you fucking KNOW I do

NSFW below the cut - non-con - somnophilia - voyeurism- breeding kink if you squint - I'm probably gonna get some haters for what I do to Steven in this so just settle down and remember that it's ff y'all - f!Reader

You're Steven's new neighbor, and it all starts when you run into him on the elevator heading up to your flat. He holds the door for you and you lose your shit. He's so handsome, he smells like old books and cedar, and he's such a mess you just want to know what he looks like writhing underneath you. Your body is shaking with excitement after meeting him for the first time. Holy fucking SHIT you need him.

So you bide your time, following him to work, keeping your distance so he doesn't know you're following him. You watch him picking the spinach from his wrap out of his teeth when he's walking home after talking with his street performer friend. You watch him go into his apartment, breaking your line of sight.

You can hear him from the laundry room jerking himself off and moaning pathetically. What a waste of his delicious cum when you know it's getting spilt into a tissue, just getting tossed aside when it could be inside of you.

When just listening isn't enough, you're staring wide-eyed into his window on the fire escape, watching him slide his palm over his erection. You're drooling on yourself while you plunge two fingers deep into your soaking cunt. You can see him just a little through the gap in his curtains, huffing and panting while he gets closer.

You're so tired of seeing him fuck himself when he could be fucking you.

So you wait until you know he's asleep and you sneak in through his window. You take a moment to take in his apartment, enjoying his scent and being surrounded by his belongings. Steven's a heavy sleeper, you learned this ages ago. So tying him up was easy.

When he finally wakes up, you're straddling him, gliding your dripping folds along his half-hard cock. You make sure to duct tape his mouth closed so his sounds will be muffled. You know Steven though, he would still be noisy as all hell.

He looks terrified at first, so you shush him and touch his cheek gently.

"Steven it's okay, it's me, your girlfriend."

You lean forward, kissing his cheek and wasting no time filling yourself with his fat cock. You groan and grunt, bouncing on top of him. You look at him, seeing his eyes roll back while you fuck him harder.

"Mm, feels good doesn't it Steven? I know just what you like, been watching you for a long time."

You move your hips in the same way you'd seen him move his hand. Slowly at first, but then faster and faster, and then slow again. You kiss his throat, hearing him crying a little. You chuckle, licking away his tears.

"You're the most precious thing Steven, can't stand the thought of anyone else having you, so you're mind now."

"This cock was made for me, it was made to fill me up, not letting you waste another drop of cum in a fucking tissue."

"I want you to pump that hot cum in my tight little pussy Steven, I wanna be so full it's flooding out of me."

"I don't take birth control you know? Not since I started following you. Gonna give you a fucking hockey team, gonna make you a daddy honey."

When Steven comes, he's breathing deeply, just as you'd seen him do before. He's panting, bucking his hips upward and slamming into you. It feels so good you nearly pass out from your own climax. When you come down from you high, you rip the tape from Steven's mouth.

"Oh god-oh god-oh god!" He's shouting. "You...you tied m-me up and-and-y-you...!"

"Steven, my sweet darling, are you really going to act like this isn't exactly what you wanted?" You kiss down his chest, and he moans, arching his body upward toward you.

"You precious whiny thing..."

Your first time together might've been a shock to him, but it doesn't take long for Steven to start seeing things your way...

Melody's 2k Celebration Masterlist

[i-try-to-write-stuff]

Administrative Alliance - 1

Please do not read this fic if this is not your cup of tea. You have been warned, by clicking on Keep Reading means you have understood the warning. I am not responsible for your content consumption.

18 + DubCon/NonCon

Tony was delighted. He had finally found a perfect match for Steve Rogers, former Captain America. Steve Rogers, the man out of his time, was a really picky guy. Every avenger had given up hope after setting him up with many different women…

After the battle with Thanos, Tony Stark had taken it upon himself to find someone perfect for Steve Rogers because only he could find a way around the legalities of international law…

He outfitted F.R.I.D.A.Y. with everything Steve Rogers could want from a woman. It was not that hard to track his bodily functions around the Avengers Head office or even in the building. All he needed to do that was to find a woman from around the world that had those amalgamated attributes for him to track down and either try to convince her to join Avengers where Tony could put her where Steve Rogers could find himself or to offer up her location to SHIELD to grab her, those Steve Rogers fanatics would do anything to please their lord and saviour.

Name - Y/N Y/L/N

Age – Y/A

Nationality – N

Calculated Compatibility with Steven Grant Rogers- 99.9%

This flashed across Tony’s lab and all the data about you. Anything linked to you was being displayed on the hologram projections.

“FRIDAY, find me anything suspicious on Ms Y/L/N, do a deep dive. I don’t want that SHEILD/ HYDRA situation to happen again.”

“On it, boss, running all background checks.”, the AI replied.

“After you’re done, send an SOS to Steve. I have an inkling that he’ll love this”

“Sure thing, boss”

“Notifying Steve Rogers” F.R.I.D.A.Y.

“Thanks, F.R.I.D.A.Y.”

-----

Steve stomped inside Tony’s lab.

“What the hell, Tony? Why is my room blaring with a priority alert?”

Tony looks up from his latest invention.

“You’ll change your tune when I tell you what I have found for you.” Tony Stark retorted.

“What is it?” Steve observed Tony.

“I found you, someone.”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“Not this again, Tony.”

“Hear me out, Capsicle. I found you a perfect woman, well actually F.R.I.D.A.Y. did. Look through her file; if you don’t like it, we can move on.”

“You found me a dame by science?” Steve commented abrasively

“Just have a look, will you? F.R.I.D.A.Y. pull up the file.”

The hologram displayed all the information about you, along with several pictures of you. F.R.I.D.A.Y. also played videos of yours she captured through facial recognition.

Steve was thunderstruck. You looked perfect, everything he ever wanted in a dame and more. He kept staring at all the pictures that F.R.I.D.A.Y. projected on the hologram.

Tony cleared his throat, which brought Steve out of his reverie.

“So…?”

“Where is she?”

“You don’t need to worry about that. We can get her here in no time.”

“Y/N Y/L/N… it fits her perfectly.”

“What do you want the whole meet cute – dating -marriage package? Or just the marriage?” Tony asked, knowing Steve’s desperation.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I can get her a job here, you can bump into her, ask her out on a date, and if she says yes, you guys go out, and then you propose, but then again, you get married only if she says yes….” Tony elaborated.

“And if you don’t want that… We can get her here. You get married and have a honeymoon for as long as you can…given your stamina, it could be years, all the time you spend if you take choice number one.”

“Why would I do that?” Steve enquired.

“C’mon Capsicle. I have seen the dark look you hide from the world. I have seen you do much worse stuff.”

“How sure are you that she’s the one for me?”

“How about this, if you don’t trust my calculations, you can go there, snoop around, see if she is what you’re looking for….”

Steve thought for a moment. It wouldn’t hurt checking you out. If what Tony said is true, he could finally have a chance at happiness, a family, a bunch of kids, all the things he wanted when he went down in the ice all those years ago, a chance to reclaim what he lost.

Steve observed you for about a month before he decided that you were his soulmate, his better half, everything in the world he’d been looking for…

He called Tony to put a plan in motion when he saw you out and about kissing another man.

You didn’t belong to that excuse of a man. No, you belonged to Steven Grant Rogers, who had saved the world multiple times but was now going to save Y/N Y/L/N from herself…

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

In the Moonlight

Warnings: this fic will include dark content including rape/noncon, breeding kink, DID, and other potential triggering elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You wake up in a strange place with a strange man.

Characters: Steven Grant, Marc Spector

Note: I wrote this impromptu. My first Moon Knight Fic. (it’s a one shot :))

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like the gingerbead man loves gumdrop buttons. Take care. 💖

The first thing you see is a large sphinx. The jade eyes inlaid in sleek ebon, symbols in golden paint around the neck and paws, ears lined in a similar gilt. It takes a moment to process the shape as the edges of your vision remain bleary and indeterminate.

The paralysis slowly seeps away as you move your fingers, your neck stiff and spine sore from some forgotten strain. You blink, head lolling as you croak and roll onto your side, staring at the sphinx. The bed beneath you isn’t really that, just a wooden board on legs, a thin pillow under your head. 

Your arm shakes as you try to push yourself up. A single lamp shines in the corner, a glass shade above an oil pot. Out-of-date and dusty. The light flickers against the pale stone as you cover your eyes, trying to remember how you got there.

“Marc, listen,” an accented voice drifts in and you look over at the dark rectangle of the open door, “We can’t do this, alright? It’s absurd. Listen, listen, I know you’re a good person. We both are and so is that woman that we– you– oh, god.”

“Coward. Just say it,” a deeper, American voice snarls back, “this is what He wants.”

“He? Marc! Haven’t we done enough for Him?”

“You know the mythos as well as I do, Steven. The rituals, you know them better.”

“Sacrifices aren’t…”

“Sacrifice? You speak as if I mean to kill her. You know that’s not it. It’s… fate. Like Khonshu, he came to us, he saved us, and this is what it costs.”

“No, he came to you, I didn’t ask for none of this,” the other, Steven, whines.

“Didn’t stop you, did it?”

You plant your hand on the hard wood and force yourself up dizzily. You wobble and grasp your head, as if holding your skill together. You remember a man in a suit. He had that same accent, he was friendly, harmless, it seemed.

“I didn’t hurt her, that was you,” Steven accuses.

“I didn’t hurt her!” Marc insists, “alright? She… fell.”

“Because you put that stuff in her drink!”

“I… miscalculated.”

“We could’ve been nice. She was nice. If you were more patient–”

“We don’t have time for your bumbling.”

“She’s awake…” a low tone permeates the air, like the wind. You’re not even sure it’s real.

You hear footsteps before a single figure appears in the doorway, limned in the light of the oil lamp. The man sweeps back his curls and places a small oval mirror on the table in the corner, the glow glinting off the glass.

“Oh, hi,” he twiddles his fingers then forces them down, “you’re awake. Hi. Hi. Are you… okay?”

You stare at him, dumbfounded. You shake as you try to find an ounce of strength. You grip the edge of the wood and force yourself to your feet. You stumble forward and he rushes forward to catch you as your knees hit the floor.

“Careful,” he says sweetly, “don’t… he said you can’t do that. You have to wait.”

“What did you do? Who were you talking to?” you hiss as you push him away.

“Talking to?” He looks away evasively and shrugs, “no one.”

He reaches to touch your arm and you swat him away, “you drugged me.”

“Yes and no, it’s rather complicated.”

“Complicated?! Where the fuck am I?”

“Shortest answer, Egypt.”

“Egypt? And the long answer?”

“Well, it’s… a lot, I–” he cringes and thinks, lines on his forehead as he kneels across from you, “are you hungry? Thirsty? Can I get you something?”

“Yeah, out of here.”

He laughs nervously and tugs at his collar. His suit is disheveled and his tie crooked.

“Well, that’s the funny thing is I can’t do that, but anything else I have sworn to serve,” he smiles.

“Get away from me,” you push yourself back with your heels until your against the bed.

“You should have water,” he nods and stands, as if giving himself a pep talk, “he said the water would help.”

“Who? Who said that?”

“Uh, no one,” he lies again.

He leaves and returns with a clay urn and cup. He pours you some water and hands it over. You don’t move so he places it by your foot.

“Do you remember me?” he asks plaintively as he puts the urn next to the mirror and pulls the stool away from the wall to sit.

“Steven,” you say, “the museum. We were having tea.”

“That’s it, that’s me,” he says.

You cross your arms and rub your sleeves as a draught flows in from behind him. A silver light shifts from without, an eerie shadow flashing by.

“Who’s Marc?”

“Marc?” he raises his brows, “how– dunno.”

“I heard you talking,” you insist.

He opens his mouth and hesitates. He frowns then winces as if he’s been struck. He shakes his head and rocks as his lips move soundlessly.

“You can’t know,” he forces out, his throat constricting, “not yet–”

“Why–”

He stands suddenly and the stool falls over. He staggers and hits the corner table, bending over it as the water spills and the lamp shifts dangerously. He looks down at the mirror, trembling as his eyes roll back.

He rips himself away from the table and braces himself across the wall. He stills completely then stands on his own, his shoulder squares and head tilted in a predatory angle. It’s like he’s a different person.

He huffs and tugs at the tie, ripping it away and tossing it to the ground. He kicks the stool aside and stands across from you.

“What do you want?”

“I… Steven?”

“Marc,” he corrects in the same American voice as before, “you wanna know who I am? Here you go.”

“Uh,” you furrow your brow, “okay… well, Marc, can you tell me why I’m here?”

“Ha, yeah, Steven’s so good at, well, many things but he’s a bit shy about this stuff,” he says, “you’re here for Khonshu.”

“Khonshu?” you squint, “you mean like, the god?”

“Yes, like the god,” he answers dryly.

“Mhmm,” you nod as you uncross your arms and push yourself to your knees, “and what does that mean?”

“You are the vessel,” he says plainly then grunt as he stretches his fingers over his crown, “Marc, stop, you’re scaring her–” the British voice comes as he turns away. “Go!” The American hollers and shakes out his arms, spinning on his heel. 

Your heart hammers in horror. This man has some very real issues and you’re not equipped to handle those, let alone the situation. You don’t know where you are or why.

“What it means is that Khonshu has chosen you to bring his fruit into the mortal world,” Marc puts a hand on his hip.

“Er, fruit?” you echo uncertainly.

He scoffs and tuts. He puts his head back as he paces around. 

“As clueless as he is,” he mutters.

“Just a little,” you say, “if you’re saying what I think you are, which I really hope I'm wrong about, it’s um, no. No, I don’t want that. I’m not really good with… kids.”

He stops and looks over at you, gritting his teeth. He growls as he taps his toe. He stomps towards you and bends his legs as he rests his elbows on his knees to look you in the eye, “you get a choice.”

“I do?”

“Yeah, me or Steven.”

You shake your head and pull your foot up, pushing yourself to stand as he rises just as quickly. You get your balance but barely before his hand is firmly on your shoulder, thumb poking sharply into you.

“Get off!” you try to shove him away and he catches your wrist.

“Don’t do that. I’m not Steven.”

“I don’t care, I choose… neither.”

“That’s not an option, sweetheart.”

“Please, please,” you wiggle your arm helplessly in his grasp, “just… it’s fine, okay? Let’s just be calm and talk this out. You don’t have to do anything drastic. Maybe I should talk to Steven.”

“Is that your choice?”

You look him in the eye, dark and bottomless pools. You glance down at his tight grip. “Yes, I choose Steven.”

He gives a dry smirk, “too bad. You’re missing out.”

He closes his eyes and his jaw clenches tightly. You feel him vibrating as the vein in his forehead bulges and his lashes flick open. He looks down at his fingers around your wrist and sputters as he releases you.

“Oh, darling, sorry,” Steven says, “oh, did he hurt you?”

You rub your wrist as you pull it against your chest, “Steven?”

“Yes?” he smiles.

“Can I please go? I’m scared.”

His face falls and he heaves. He goes to play with the tie but finding it gone, lets his fingers dance in the air before stilling them.

“You see, I can’t do that,” he says.

“Steven, this doesn’t make sense. Khonshu? Vessel? You told me about the mythos yourself, it’s not–”

“He is a god of fertility and was robbed of his chance to bear fruit when he was locked away. He was promised by fate that he would issue a great heir upon the world but that was taken from him.”

“No, you didn’t say–”

“Khonshu is freed and he must appease his destiny. It is not something you find in history books, it is written in the stars.”

“Steven, please, you aren’t making sense.”

“Come,” he offers his hand, “I promise, I will not hurt you but the ritual must be done. The moon is nearly at the peak of its axis.”

You snarl at his hand, “what are you talking about?”

“The altar is readied, we must do it tonight as the moon is full.”

“Nowwwwww,” that otherworldly voice rumbles again as silver light fills the doorway.

“Darling, I’m afraid we cannot delay,” Steven grabs your hand and you’re too slow to evade him, “come.”

You try to dig your heels in but the soles of your flats scrape over the stone easily. He drags you through the doorway to a large chamber basked in moonlight. The cavernous ceiling opens to the night sky, symbols carved into every inch of the walls, lit from the celestial beacon above.

You look around Steven as he guides you onward, a large stone slab at the center of the space. You grab his sleeve as you try to dig in your heels.

“Steven, please,” you beg, “it can’t be me. It’s a mistake, please.”

“Khonshu knows,” he says, almost mechanically as he turns and grabs your arms, “he has bid it.”

“Steven,” you whimper as he wrestles with you, angling you around to the slab.

You cling to the front of his tattered jacket as he forces you down. You land on your back heavily and it knocks the air from your lungs. He pulls you straight across the stone as he climbs up on his knees.

“Please,” you squeak as he reaches for a rope and stretches it over your chest, securing it with a metal hoop on the other side of the slab. “Don’t do this–”

“It isn’t me, it’s Khonshu,” he says as he keeps his eyes down, eluding yours. He extends another rope over your middle and pulls it tightly.

You wriggle helplessly as he stands and reaches into his pocket. He unfolds a knife and hesitates as he nears.

“I don’t want to cut you, so stay still,” he says as he cuts into the seam of your blouse.

You sniffle as he slices away your clothing, one piece at a time. An eerie bluish gleam takes over his pupils as he strips away the fabric. You shiver as the cool night washes over you.

He turns and disappears into shadows. He returns and places a large necklace at the top of your chest, hooking it behind your neck. The blue beads rest heavy on you as he straightens the emblem below.

“Steven,” you beg as he steps back and shrugs his jacket off.

He hides his face as he drops it, twitching as he unbuttons his shirt. “Let me…” the American voice whispers.

“No,” Steven says louder as he struggles to get his cuffs off his wrist.

You push your head back against the stone as your eyes tingle. This can’t be happening. It has to be a nightmare. This can’t be real. It’s ridiculous.

He unbuckles his belt, his hands clumsier as he bares more skin. You look up at the moonlight as it singes your vision and listen to the rustle of clothing.

“Don’t keep your socks on,” the guttural American twang intones.

“Marc…” Steven whispers as his shadow nears the slab, leaning from one side than the other.

He gets up on the edge and puts a hand lightly on your thigh. You quiver as he pulls on your leg, grunting as you resist. He moves and forces your legs open as his fingertips jab painfully into the tender flesh of your thighs. You squeak as he kneels between your legs and his hands move to your hips, shyly exploring your exposed body.

He retracts his hands and looks down at himself. He grabs his length and strokes, groaning as he does. He bends over you, a hand beside your head. His arm keeps moving as he peers down at you.

“Should… Should I kiss you?” he whispers.

You turn your face away and bat away tears.

“Don’t!” you snap.

You hear him gulp as he presses his tip along your folds. You twitch from the sensation as he cluelessly traces up and down as if lost. He presses against your clit and your leg spasm, just his witless prodding makes you wet, a heat scouring your cheeks.

“I’m trying,” he says quietly as he finally finds your entrance. 

You tense as he pushes his tip into you. His passage is slow and strained as you resist. He grunts and slips down to his elbow as he holds himself over you.

“Marc, shut up,” he sneers as he hides his face from you, “oh!”

He glides deeper and you exhale sharply. He thrusts and groans.

“Oh, gods,” he utters weakly, “oh, darling–”

You press your hands flat to the stone and close your eyes. A tear trickles down your temple as he falls into a rhythm. You bend your legs as you try to ease the pressure.

“Please don’t cry,” Steven says as he pets your cheek, “please.”

His motion turns rigid and he stops suddenly. He hangs his head as his curls fall forward and suddenly whips his face up into the moonlight.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Marc’s blunt accent sinks into you as he sits up, trailing his hands down your body, “looks like Steven couldn’t get the job done right.”

He keeps a hand on your stomach as his other runs down your pelvis. He presses his thumb to your clit and rolls it cloyingly. You moan as he falls back into motion, rocking into you in time with the plucking of your nerves.

“Isn’t that better?” he teases as his thighs push beneath yours and he reaches to tweak your nipple.

You cry out and slap a hand on the stone as the other goes blindly to his stomach. You push your fingertips against his muscle as he speeds up, his thumb swirling around and around. Your feet arch and you push your chest out as the breath burns in your chest.

You whine as you cum in a whirlwind, the knotting in your core unfurling and scattering through your limbs. The rope chafes your skin as you writhe and whimper, Marc burying himself deeper and deeper.

“Yeah. that’s it–”

He swallows his voice and falls over you. He slows to long strokes and brings his hand under your head. He shudders and presses his lips to your forehead. 

“Darling, I–” Steven murmurs against your skin, “I–”

He quakes and rams into you deeply, several erratic thrusts as he cums with a long groan. He’s out of breath as he eases up and drapes himself over you limply. Your body’s alight as his sweaty skin sticks to yours and the night air tickles your sides.

You lay beneath him, trapped, terrified. The world blurs as a dream would, your body feels detached and your mind distant. A shadow lurks above you, a long beak and empty eyes etched in bone. The figure disappears as you blink and the moonlight dims. 

If this is a nightmare, why haven’t you woken up?

[justagirlinafandomworld]

I'm excited to share all the new fics I've read for the month of June, from my own exploration to taking part in the Champion Week challenge hosted by the fabulous @cockslutpadalecki and @maladaptivexxdaydreaming. Thank you, both of you for hosting this fantastic event that introduced me to the talents of new writers. And, of course, I want to say a great big THANK YOU to the writers on this list. You are incredible, thank you for sharing your works on this hellsite. ❤️

This list is alphabetical by fandom (mostly), then by character. Summaries and warnings are included as provided by the authors.

Read what you like and share what you love!

2022 reading list | fic rec masterlist

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

Marvel

Better Than Ever by @jobean12-blog Bucky Barnes x Reader You and Bucky run into your ex. Warnings: soft fluff, fun, teasing, Bucky being slightly dramatic and possessive but in a cute way, little spice :)

Peace of Mind by @firefly-in-darkness Bucky Barnes x Female Reader After Bucky’s return, losing him again is your worst nightmare. Warnings: angst.

Prized Possession by @navybrat817 Dark Librarian!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader You’re Bucky’s rare treasure, his most prized possession. Warnings: Explicit sexual content, Dubcon/Noncon elements (please do NOT read if that upsets you), drugging, kidnapping, cockwarming, mention of minor character death, dark elements, possessive behavior, displays of Stockholm Syndrome, librarian!Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?)

L.O.V.E by @carrotfantasimp Mob!Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!Female Reader Bucky wants to offer you more than love. Warnings: underage drinking (reader is 20), a little low self esteem, self image issues, smutty (foreplay, implied oral and smut), tiny amount of angst, shitty father (not the reader’s), mention of a gun.

Almost There... by @firefly-in-darkness Bucky Barnes x Female Reader A drive to remember... Warnings: smut, masturbation, a lil praise kink if you squint

Fire and the Flood by @starks-hero Loki x Female Reader A powerful enemy uses a spell that turns Loki into a brainwashed puppet and a danger to the team. However, you’re willing to do whatever it takes to save him from himself. Warnings: Angst with compensating fluff, canon typical-violence, injury

Steve/Bucky by @sweater-daddiesdumbdork Steve Rogers x Female Reader x Bucky Barnes You had a rough day, the soldiers take care of you. Warnings: Smut. Vaginal Fingering. Threesome.

Timid Daredevil by @carrotfantasimp skinny!1940's Steve Rogers x Reader You could barely get words out of your mouth when you were around him, but somehow you managed to ask out Steve Rogers. Warnings: fluff fluff fluuuff and a lil awkwardness

Steve and Bunny by @carrotfantasimp nomad!Steve Rogers x GN!Reader When all hope is lost, Steve looks up. Warnings: idk what this is but it's corny af, use of a pet name, talk of grief, maybe a little angsty?

His Queen by @donutloverxo soft dark king!Steve Rogers x Female Reader Married life with Steve was amazing (although with a few bumps in the way) until you discovered a heartbreaking secret. Warnings: explicit sexual content, painful sex, innocent naive insecure reader, dub con/noncon, soft dark Steve, jealous Steve, ooc villain Sharon, like a little breeding kink, some angst.

Moon Struck & Over the Moon by @softlybarnes Steven Grant x Female Reader, Marc Spector x Female Reader Steven asks you out, Marc falls in love. Warnings: mostly fluff, canon-typical violence, threats of violence, angst mostly from Marc because he's just like that

Supernatural

Run To You by @deanwinchesterswitch Dean Winchester x Kasey Belmont (OFC) Disillusioned by the world around her, Kasey has chosen to live a life of solitude. Accused of a crime he didn’t commit, Dean escapes custody. On the run from the law and out to prove his innocence, he stumbles headlong into Kasey’s life. The fateful encounter sets them on a winding path of desire, heartbreak, and perhaps the most incredible love they’ve ever known. However, time and the law are not on their side. Warnings: Angst, fluff, slow-burn, language, panic attack detailed (near end of story). Each chapter will have its own warnings.

"I don't mean to bother you." - "You're not." by @trexrambling Dean Winchester x Reader A comfort fic. Warnings: none.

ANGST by @leatherednlace Dean Winchester x Reader Prompt - Playlist #3/Skinny love - Bon Iver Warnings: ANGST

Stay by @fluffiest-dreams Dean Winchester x Female Reader After a night spent together, Dean tried to run. Warnings: none.

This Feeling by @fluffiest-dreams Jack Kline x Female Reader Jack has a question. Warnings: none.

Sinful Sunday: This Ain't Dating by @kittenofdoomage Boyking!Sam Winchester x Female Reader Prompt: Boyking!Sam, obsessed (crushed when he was human, is now an obsession) Warnings: dub-con, restraint with ropes, kidnapping (sort of), possessive!Sam, dark!Sam, dirty talk

Leave Unsaid Unspoken by @mrswhozeewhatsis Sam Winchester x Jo Harvelle, Dean Winchester x Jo Harvelle They don't talk about it. Warnings: I will put warnings in the tags because they will be spoilers. This is angsty as hell, though.

Outer Banks

The Hills by @cherienymphe Rafe Cameron x Reader Unable to watch JJ look at someone else the way you wish he’d look at you, you start to distance yourself from the Pogues. In an effort to numb the pain, you make a drunken mistake, but nothing is coincidental, and you learn better than anyone that Rafe Cameron always gets what he wants. Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, violence, physical/verbal abuse, public sex, toxic relationship, underage drinking, drug use, non canon ages, one-sided JJ x reader, pogue!reader

Top Gun: Maverick

Under the Radar by @princessmisery666 Lieutenant Jake “Hangman” Seresin, Lieutenant Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw, fem!reader (You. Call sign: Huntress), a few needed OC’s. Being a navy pilot you expected to have your world turned upside down from time to time. Taking to the skies was the easy part, the lessons you learn on solid ground are the hardest. Warnings: angst, fluff, soft Jake, jealousy, asshole Jake, break-ups, cheating (reader is the other woman but doesn’t know until after), preludes to smut, heartbreak, Rooster is a bit of an ass in parts, fluffy Rooster. Parts 3 & 4 include spoilers for Top Gun: Maverick.

Other Characters

A Canary to Bring My Message Home by @ghotifishreads 1910s Coal Miner!Curtis Everett x Farmer’s Daughter!Reader Curtis is the shift leader at the coal mine and helps on your family’s farm. A collapse at the mine reveals a new direction for both your intentions. Warnings: Breeding kink. (Seriously. It’s breeding kink all the way down, folks.) Vaginal fingering. P in v sex. Unprotected sex. Minor lactation kink alluded to in passing. Mention of parental death. Mention of mining accident and death, no details. Inaccuracies about coal mining and farming and history.

"I need it." - "Then you can ask nicely." by @sweater-daddiesdumbdork Ransom Drysdale x Female Reader You done pissed him off. Warnings: smut.

Promise Made, Promises Kept by @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior Soldier Boy knows she's coming for him one day. Warnings: The Boys level violence, descriptions of torture, brief mentions of drug use and sex, nothing explicit.

Happy Reading!

[chaosandsuns]

Prompt / request time!

Below there is a list of prompts you can request!

I figured id cobble it together from a few prompt lists, the majority of this is from @writinginstardust 's 150 random writing prompts.

Please include a pairing, the requested prompts (numbers or the prompt itself) and a basic idea for what you want!

I will write nsfw, romantic and platonic unless specified otherwise (yelena is platonic only). Please include what youd like the reader's gender to be! (Enby and nonconforming works! I just wanna know what nicknames/ pronouns youd like :D )

I will not write any minor x adult or noncon.

I will write xreader! (And any pairing between the given characters. You can add your own prompt if youd like!)

Possible characters:

Layla El-Faouly

Marc Spector

Steven Grant

Jake Lockley

Blue Jones

Jonathan Levy

Matt Murdock

Foggy Nelson

Karen Page

Kate Bishop

Yelena belova (no nsfw/ platonic only. We respect aroace peeps in this house)

Prompt list below the cut!

"Come over here and make me.”

“Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

“I almost lost you.”

“Wanna bet?”

“Don’t you ever do that again!”

“Kiss me.”

“It could be worse.”

“Looks like we’ll be trapped for a while…”

“You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.”

“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”

“I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.”

“If you keep looking at me like that we won’t make it to a bed.”

“Wanna dance?”

“You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

“You did all of this for me?”

“I swear it was an accident.”

“YOU DID WHAT?!”

“If you die, I’m gonna kill you.”

“I fucking hate you”

“The first time you smiled it felt like the universe aligned.”

“It hurts…” “what?” “Loving someone who doesn’t love you…”

“Let me do this, please.”

"you’re not as funny as you think you are"

"i’m just getting comfy"

"just because you can doesn’t mean you should"

"text me when you’re home"

"you are such a nerd"

"stop laughing at me!"

"you were put on this earth to give me a headache."

"you’re ticklish?!"

"you are a terrible influence"

"one of us is clearly smarter than the other"

"you need some sleep"

"how have you survived this long by yourself?"

"sleep is for the weak"

"that was you?"

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“What? I have never-”

“I do not have an answer for you.”

“In my defense, I really wanted to.”

“At least *I* didn’t break any laws.”

“What did you do this time?”

“I don’t hate you.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Just marry me already."

“Did I stutter?”

“Did I just say that out loud?”

“H-How long have you been standing there?”

“I’ve never felt this way before and I’m terrified, to be honest.”

“Is there anything you want to tell me?”

“Somebody’s in love!”

“Can I hold your hand?”

“There is no way this much stupid can fit inside one person.”

“I’m never leaving…I promise.”

“Uh, am I interrupting?”

“I like you, like like you like you."

“Can I kiss you?”

“God, I love you.”

“You’re so fucking cute.”

“Stop being a fucking prick.”

“Do you want me to stay?”

“You’re my everything.”

“I love seeing you smile.”

“I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

“I can’t get enough of you.”

“i like being close to you. you’re warm.”

“i’m not wearing any underwear. thought you’d like to know.”

“is this okay?”

“this is a one time thing.”

“you know where to find me.”

“you’re really good at that.”

“don’t be shy now, sit on my face.”

“Wanna join?”

“Stop doing that”

“YOU SENT ME PICTURES OF YOU NAKED WHILE I WAS IN A WORK MEETING!”

“If I ask you to kiss me in front of all these people, will you do it?”

“Don’t go on that date.” “Why?” “You know why.” “Say it.”

“ i think i might be in some kind of love with you.”

“say you want me, and i’m yours.”

“you need a place to stay for the night”

“i want to taste you”

“i love it when you talk dirty

“if you interrupt me one more time— so help me god”

“if we weren’t in public right now i’d have my head between your legs”

“i don’t know what to do” “then let me teach you”

“i forgot my towel”

“don’t cover your face, i want to see you”

“are you sure about this?”

“ive never wanted to fuck someone as badly as i want to fuck you rn”

“do you want help with that?”

“im going to fuck you until you forget that assholes name”

“bend over the desk love”

“is that my shirt?”

“my mother adores you.”

“is that a drawing of me?”

“i didn’t mean to say that but yeah, i love you.”

“i’ve never seen anyone look so cute and ridiculous at the same time.”

“stop looking at me like that!”

“i didn’t know you could sing.”

“you weren’t supposed to hear that!”

“you wrote me a song?”

“i’m not scared but if you are, you can hold my hand.”

“this isn’t adrenaline, i want to spend my life with you.”

“do you think of me when you touch yourself?”

“Take my jacket, it’s cold”

“My friends get annoyed by how much I talk about you sometimes”

“I’m not going anywhere”

“fuck you.” - “when?”

“no one’s ever made me feel like this.”

“here, let me help you.”

“we’re quite literally fugitives of the state.” - “so no pizza?”

"you’re insane.” - “people keep telling me that.”

“you’re pretty.” - “you’re drunk.”

“i told you i’d come home to you.”

“i’ll keep you safe.”

“i’ll spend a thousand lifetimes coming back to you.”

“i didn’t think it was possible to love someone this much.”

“please never stop smiling.”

“Touch yourself for me.”

“Shut up and take your pants off.”

“Wanna see what I’m wearing underneath all this?”

“Do you know how beautiful you are? It’s truly distracting.”

“How are you this perfect?”

“I’ve waited so long for this.”

“Would you just shut up and kiss me already?”

“Tell me what you want.”

“Could he make you feel as good as i do?”

“Are you trying to turn me on or are you really just that oblivious?”

“Just let me finish this/this level and I swear ill go down on you until you cum at least three times.”

“I haven’t even touched you and you’re already this wet.”

“Were you just masturbating?” “U-uh..no, I was just..” “Want some help?”

“Tell me again.”

“I really want to kiss you right now.” “Then do it.”

“I don’t care what you do just fuck me.”

“Stop distracting me.”

"theres only one bed."

"Ill bandage you up"

"Who did this to you?"

"I didnt know where else to go"

"can you be my date to the wedding?"

"you're my best friend. Ive always loved you."

"shut up." "Make me."

"I would NEVER fall for you"

"then why did you do it?" "BECAUSE I LOVE YOU"

[murdrdocs]

maybe im blind but who do you all write for and dont write for? :)

sorry that i don’t have it posted! but here’s my list (for now)

i will write for:

stranger things — steve harrington, robin buckley, chrissy cunningham, eddie munson, mike wheeler, eleven/jane hopper, max mayfield, karen wheeler, joyce byers, jim hopper, dmitri antonov, argyle, jonathan byers

marvel — wanda maximoff, natasha romanoff, steve rogers, steven grant, peter parker, thor, loki, valkyrie, matt murdock, elektra, karen page

misc — bruce wayne/battinson

i will not write for:

stranger things — billy hargrove, lucas sinclair (only bc he’s my brother in my DR), dustin henderson, anyone else not mentioned above

marvel — anyone not mentioned above

tropes — outright noncon/rape, abuse, aggressive angst, extreme kinks (but feel free to ask for clarification(

but if there’s a character not specified, or if you just have questions, feel free to send me an ask and i can clarify!

[hansensgirl]

hope is a dangerous thing.

summary | You’ve watched your once bright marriage burn down to a dull amber right before your eyes, and you’re fed up. But your husband isn’t.

warnings | Noncon/dubcon, dark themes, Dark!Steve, violence, blood, angst, broken marriage, injuries, reader is a cleaning freak, asphyxiation, breeding kink, Master kink, choking (belt, hand), manhandling, slapping, spanking (pussy), degrading, authority kink?, size kink, bondage, threats, dirty talk, oral (m receiving), hair pulling, nipple play, facials, Steve makes the reader rub herself on his foot, SMUT, DARK FIC, 18+

pairings | Dark!Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

a/n | this is a story about a broken marriage. i am in no way glorifying that or romanticizing broken marriages at all! if you don’t like it, don’t read it! if you wanna add yourself to my taglist, click this! xxx (my gif, please don’t repost!) note: steve and the reader got together in 2012, right after the loki stuff. they got married in 2014 after the helicarrier stuff. they’ve been married for nine years since this takes place in 2023. endgame happened but tony and nat didn’t die. steve is still cap (even tho sammie bb should be, i’m so sorry) and for out-of-canon’s sake, vision is still alive and so is loki.  and yes ik i drifted between writing styles lol my bad!

Steven Grant Rogers isn’t the perfect husband. But then again, who is?

He doesn’t have a normal nine-to-five job. The one where he brushes past you and pecks your cheek, a kiss that’s so forgettable. He can’t walk up to his boss and request for a paid vacation. He stays back until they pull their claws out of him, setting him free. When he shuts the door behind him with ease and tip-toes his way into the kitchen, searching for the leftover food you left for him.

When he sheds himself of his clothes. Not suits, or dress shirts, just a plain t-shirt and one of his many coarse leather jackets. When he lays behind you on the bed and wraps his large arm around you, pulling you into the broken shell of himself. Only then is he human, only then he can lay the virtuous hero to rest. His once lovesick spirit has now splintered at the edges, and you don’t dare to touch it.

You’ve struggled to put the broken pieces of your marriage back together. Therapy, a vacation, trying for a kid, even a few under-the-belt surprises that ended the night with a blunt phrase. “I’m too tired, darling.” So as he tried to leave spontaneously at one in the morning, you attempted to call him back to bed. So that he can fill the empty half of you just like he used to.

“Stevie… Just stay back today. Tell Fury you’re tired, make up an excuse… Just please, please stay back…” You pleaded. Steve’s heart broke at your tone. “Darling, you know I can’t. I’ll be back before you know it, okay? I love you, don’t forget that.” He said, kissing you softly. It gave you hope, hope that maybe your marriage wasn’t going to end. You watched him walk out the door, the thumping of his boots echoed through the house.

You laid back in bed and shut your eyes, hoping sleep would befall you. You twisted and turned, the expensive Mulberry silk sheets formed creases that maybe a little ironing could fix. You had begged him not to splurge on them, but he said “I just wanted my girl to be treated like a princess, that’s all.” Your head kept slipping from the pillow and you grew annoyed, frustrated.

You sat up and you groaned once you looked out the window. The sun had yet to rise above the horizon that had blurred for the both of you. It felt as if time was no longer a concept of reality — but was it ever? Did Steve ever pay any mind to this “time”? Oh right, he was “The Man Out of Time” afterall. Your silk chemise barely covered you up. It ended right below your ass and your chest fell out of it from time to time.

The cool air of the room made you shiver. Goosebumps covered your body and oh how you wished they were Steve’s kisses instead. Your bare feet sunk into the fluffy carpet that covered the entirety of your bedroom floor. The very carpet that you would spend hours cleaning. The same carpet that you used to kneel on in front of Steve.

One of the floorboards creaked loudly beneath your sore feet and the thick carpet, making you sigh. You’d have to bring that up with Steve. You rubbed the slight blurriness to your eyes away and you walked down the grand staircase. You held on tightly to the railing and descended downwards carefully. You were a clutz, a nervous-wreck and you were always on edge. Your mother had tried to get rid of the on-edgeness that was ingrained into your bones, but it didn’t budge at all. You always thought about the worst, and braced yourself for it too. But it always seemed to creep in when you weren’t looking.

You stood in the overly large kitchen and pondered as to what you should have for breakfast. You opened up the cupboards and frowned when you found only a bit of food. You shut them and wandered over to the fridge which was undoubtedly filled with food- nope. You only found some leftovers, jam, butter, cream cheese and other things that shouldn’t be eaten for breakfast. “Steve..” You whispered softly.

He must’ve been stress eating, or late-night-snacking. You grabbed the bread and the butter, along with the little bit of milk that was left in the jug. Steve loathed milk cartons, he’d buy milk and pour it into a jug, like how the milkman from the 1930’s would. You put some water to boil and put the last piece of toast in the toaster. You made your coffee with the little bit of milk and you spread the butter sparingly. You stood in the middle of the kitchen -- idly -- and silently ate your food as your mind fell into it’s thought spiral.

Steve’s promise came to life. He had arrived while you were cleaning for the second time that day. He didn’t think to text you or call once the quinjet landed. “I wanted to surprise you, doll!” He exclaimed brightly, cuts and bruises covering him head to toe. You winced on his behalf as he pulled you into a tight hug. It was refreshing. Like the feeling of stretching in the morning when you had just woken up. Or kicking your heels off after a long day of striding your way across the floor in them.

“Stevie, you’re hurt…” You muttered quietly as he pulled away to smile down at you. Your neck strained as you looked up at him, your hand reaching out to his face. Your thumbs treaded lightly across his wounds, scared to hurt the already injured hero. You looked into his eyes, and they’re empty, dark. They reminded you of the ocean, maybe even a hurricane if you looked deeper.

“I know, doll…  I just couldn’t stay away from my girl. Help me clean up?” He smiled, and you nodded feverishly. Anything for him. He grabbed your hand and led you up the stairs, pulling you along with him. He ushered you into your shared bedroom and he shut the door behind him. “Run the bath for us, darling? I’ll be there in a bit.” He smiled meekly, venturing towards the tall shelf filled with his records collection.

You sauntered your way into the large bathroom. You never failed to marvel at its size, a constant reminder of Steve’s hard work. Saving the world, rushing home and not even bothering to visit the MedBay for the sake of himself. Were you being selfish for wanting your marriage to not be so broken? The thought made you wince. You carefully plucked a bottle of essential oil off the shelf as the water flowed freely.

Just as free as your thoughts did.

You twisted the pipe off and opened up the small glass bottle in your hand. You tilted in carefully and tapped it. One. Two. Three. The slightly muted scent of lavender filled your nostrils lightly as it’s mixed with the water. Memories from a few months ago flooded your mind. Valentine’s day. You had outdid yourself, you redecorated the whole house, bought gifts, cooked Steve’s favourite meals and much more.

You even splurged on skimpy lingerie that you would’ve preferred to see on the bedroom floor, not stuffed in a drawer for “another time.” When would this “another time” he spoke of happen? You sighed as the low tune of Louis Armstrong’s “Dream A Little Dream Of Me” echoed throughout the bedroom. Steve shed himself of his dirtied uniform and he braced the shield against the wall gently.

“Lovey? Did you finish running the bath and everything?” He called out, walking into the bathroom in nothing but his boxers. You turned around and nodded rapidly, nearly giving yourself whiplash that he surely would’ve chided you for. You brushed past him and opened the drawer that was filled with amorous candles that you had collected over the past few months of sulking-about. You grabbed a matchbox and pulled out the single match that was left. You had always preferred lighters.

Steve watched you from not too far. It’s a kind of distance that one would awfully respect. Not too far, yet not too close. If you stretched your arms out then they might quite possibly meet at the fingertips. You struck the match, as Steve had struck himself against you, igniting your flame-like romance that had now died down to a dull-amber. You brought the candle to life and you set it down next to the bathtub.

You noticed how a few of Steve’s injuries had begun to heal on their own. You don’t say anything though. He didn’t step into the bathtub and splash water everywhere, no. He stood and watched you instead. He watched you like you were a ballerina that was dancing The Nutcracker, gracefully moving across the floor. “Doll, you’re worrying me… Please say something.” He pleaded, his gaze following you as you scoured about for the first aid kit you always had to keep.

You hummed in response, but it’s not enough for the super soldier. But then again, when is anything enough for him? “Words, doll, words.” He demanded. “Yeah, ‘m fine Stevie, just fine.” You spoke quietly. His large arms wrapped around you and he brought you to your feet.

He spun you around gently to face him, to look at him. But you couldn’t. You stared at the healing gash that made a temporary home on his chest. Like a fleeting guest that would only stay for two nights and leave on the third day. You brought your fingers up to it and traced it lightly, your finger accidentally touching the raw flesh every now and then.

“You should get in the tub before the water gets cold, Steven…” You trail off, your voice holding a sort of dominance that you rarely used. “Not until you tell me what’s wrong, doll.” He bargained for more than he can. “Nothing, we need to go grocery shopping.” You said, walking away from him. You grabbed a bunch of fluffy towels and set them down beside the tub. You silently walked out of the room and left him all alone.

About half an hour later, Steve emerged from the bathroom and he put on a set of pyjamas you laid out on the bed. You bounced your leg and looked out the window as you waited for the delivery man to arrive. That night you had no choice but to settle for pizza from a store that Tony and Steve would rave about. The poor twenty dollar bill in your hands had formed creases and folds of all kinds, and there was a small rip too.

“Hey, doll! We could go grocery shopping if you’d like, how about tomorrow? I got the entire week off!” He exclaimed, jogging down the steps. He landed on his toes each time, absorbing all sound. You recalled him telling you that it’s a practice in parkour. He can’t injure himself. You failed to hark back to the reasoning, though.

Something about absorbing energy, as if he himself didn’t absorb all of yours.

The doorbell rang with a sharp shrill that pierced through the building tension in the room. You swung the door open and quickly handed the young boy the bill and took the two boxes of pizza from him. Steve came up behind you and gently rested his hand on the small of your back. The hand wasn’t as foreign as the gesture. You nearly jerked away from his touch. Your bright smile faltered slightly, turning into an awkward one. How distant had you both grown from each other?

You gripped the box tightly and Steve slowly shut the door for you. “Here, go rest up.” He ushered you to the couches and pressed a sloppy kiss to your cheek, one that seemed as if he didn’t want to put any effort into showing affection. The feeling of his soft, yet chapped lips lingered as did his touch. You touched the spot on your cheek where his lips were for a split second, and you thought to yourself.

When did everything go wrong? Was anything wrong?

Were you falling out of love with Steven?

No, no, no. Impossible. “Hey doll! How many slices do you want?” He called out, his loud voice booming around in your large home. His question knocked you out of your small reverie. Your tongue stumbled a bit, you didn’t really know what you wanted. You wanted your loving Steve to come back, but the option wasn’t offered.

You darted your wet muscle out and ran it across your lips, your stomach answering the question for you. The loud grumble startled you, just like how thunder would startle a poor child. You sat on the couch before getting up again. Steve watched you from afar, almost amusing himself as he took you in.

You spun around, wondering as to where you left your phone. The kitchen? Bedroom? The cleaning closet? Basement? Where, where, where, where, where? “Doll, I put it to charge upstairs, calm down please.” He smiled, handing you your plate. You knew that was a lie, he just wanted to put your hyper mind at ease. “T- Thank you.” You nodded at him as you expressed the slightest bit of gratitude towards your husband.

You sat on the couch and waited for him to press his body against yours, to warm you up with his body heat. You craved his love. You turned and watched as he danced around from the living room to the kitchen, as if he always forgot something from the other room.

Your pizza rests on the ceramic plate, untouched, and beginning to cool. You decided to eat without him, you always had been doing that anyways. You didn’t realize how hungry you were until you noticed how you scarfed down on your pizza. Clearly, a thin slice of bread was no meal to keep you full. You softly dusted the crumbs off your plate. They found a home in your fluffy carpet not too long after, though.

You felt the couch dip gravely, carrying the weight of a 220 pound man of pure muscle, carnage and righteousness was no simple task, of course. He didn’t sit close to you, he didn’t wrap his arm around you cheesily and he didn’t do that gesture where he would kiss your shoulder lovingly.

And it fucking hurt.

Instead, he sat on the other end of the expensive cushioned sofa. You felt your heart break and your eyes sting with salty teardrops that would soon run down your face. You looked at him with betrayal on your face. Did he scorn you? You inched yourself closer to him, laying your head on his shoulder. The angle made a crink slowly begin to form in your neck, but that didn’t matter. You just wanted to be close to Steve. It was all you could ask for.

“Doll, ugh- move.” he grumbled, pulling himself away from you. You felt your delicate heart shattering, broken pieces piercing through your soul like skin versus glass. You bit your tongue as if you were holding back a hurricane of words. Because you were. Almost five years of pain thrusting itself upon you at once.

You stood up so fast you saw the galaxies right before your eyes. Through your tear-filled eyes you rushed out of the living room and into the kitchen, gently placing the plate down in the sink before bolting towards the large staircase. You didn’t bother holding onto the railing until the wood splinter and you didn’t bother watching your each and every step.

You ran towards your shared bedroom and shut it behind you, the slam reverberating throughout the opulent halls of your house. Your shoulders caved in with each sob and tremors shook your body completely. You cowered in like a wounded soldier on the bloodied battlefield. His words replayed over and over, your mind mimicking a broken record-player.

‘Doll… I’m so, so sorry. Please open the door up, please?” Steve pleaded from the otherside. If your marriage was a movie, it would be the epitome of cliches. The main character would open the door, slam themselves in their lover’s arms and they would’ve made “love” on the floor as a balm for their wounds. You shook your head as if he could see you, before uttering out a firm “no.”

You got up and didn’t bother wiping the tears from your face. You stomped over to the closet and you swung the wooden door open, letting it bang against the wall. It winced as you looked at the damage it left behind; a dent in the crème walls. You mustered up all the strength in your poor, wilted body and dragged two suitcases out.

“Doll, I’m beggin’ ya, open the door please… If you love, you’ll open it. Don’t you love me, doll? Don’t ya?” The Brooklyn drawl makes a guest appearance in his words and you stopped in the middle of the room. Do you even love him? You were his other half for 11 whole years, as he has been yours. From strangers, to foes, to friends, to lovers.

A splendid tale that soon had to come to an end eventually. You sniffled loudly and finished piling all your clothes into your two suitcases. You closed them and wiped your face, brushing the tears away as if they were nothing. You hesitated, each step nearly being drawn back. You grasped the door knob and twisted it, pulling it open. You didn’t see anything, you only felt.

You only felt the harsh thud of Steve’s body against yours.

He peppered your tear-stricken face with kisses. A few were sloppy, and a few were passionate. You began to draw away, but his strong hold refused to let you go. He apologized profusely, begging for your forgiveness. “...I don’t know what possessed me to say that, doll. I- I’m just so sorry, please don’t leave me, you’re all I have!” He cried out, almost as if he was in terrible pain. Or grief.

He pulled away and looked down at you, eyes as red as crimson. His face was as wet as the Arctic sea that was once his home for seventy years. Seventy lost years. You slowly wiped the tears away, letting your own fall freely. “Steven, I love you, I really do… But I just can’t, Steven… I have my limits, and I’ve run out of hope.” You admitted, sighed deeply.

He looked at you as if you had just committed a horrendous crime.

“W- What do you mean, doll? Whatever it is, you can talk to me about it. You know I’m always here for you, right?” His hands shook as he pleaded for you to open up to him. “The thing is, you aren’t. You’re not always here, hell, you’re barely here. And when you are, it’s like you aren’t. Coming home early in the morning and leaving too, it’s like you’re a ghost, Steven! I’ve tried, I’ve tried so fucking hard to bring us back toghether but it’s like you’re fine with us becoming strangers in our own home, huh? It’s always ‘I’m too tired’ or ‘next time’ but when is this next time Steve?! I can’t fucking do this Steve, I’m tired of it. Let’s just take a break… From each other until you learn to become dedicated to being a husband, my husband.” You spat, years of frustration, anger, loneliness, everything washing up to the shore.

He looked bewildered, an animal whose prey had just escaped from their claws.

Your chest heaved, your anger simmering down to frustration, and then to fear. No matter how hard you braced yourself, nothing could ever save you from the wrath of America’s Golden Boy. “Doll… That’s not true, you don’t mean that…” His tone is soft, sad and you almost felt sorry for him.

“But I do, Steve. We need a break until you sort yourself and your priorities out. You'll do it if you love me, and you love me, don’t you?” You calmed down, speaking gently.  Your words were torn from his, firing shots back at him that pierced through his thick skin. He didn’t say anything, his haze longing yet blank at the same time. Not one nod.

“If you love me, then say a fucking word, Steven. Because, for the past two years it’s like you’re not my husband! You have a better relationship with that shield than you have with me for fucksake, and shit, sometimes I wonder if you left me for some whore-” You rambled, awakening something inside of him. You felt that feeling again. The feeling of danger creeping around the corner, ready to jump out a startle you.

His hands moved from your face to your shaking shoulders, gripping them tightly until it felt like the blades in the would slip. “Are you fucking kidding me? Do you know how fucking ungrateful you sound? So many women would kill to have my last name, yet here you are, being an ungrateful whore.” He growled, roughly swaying our body. “I’m not being ungrateful Steve! I’m tired of us, just let go, we can yell it out once you realize what you’ve been doing.” You countered, slapping his hands away.

You turned around, whipping your head fiercely.  You reached down to zip your suitcase, yearning to hear the brief sharp hissing sound of it. But the same suitcase is suddenly thrown across the bedroom, hitting one of the many clandestine walls and meeting the floor with a devastatingly loud thud. You flinched at the sound, and at the horrendous action as well.

“Steve, what the fuck?!” You cried out, stalking away from him. He lunged forward, halting your not-so-epic escape. His bruising fingers dug into your poor arms, squeezing them with all his might. Open palms and empty fists clashed against the super-soldier that was your husband. You kicked and scratched, shouted and yelled, but nothing relented his grip.

You no longer shook with anger. It was fear. “You’re not going anywhere. I work my ass off to make money, to save this world and to rid it of all the fucking scum in it. And you want to leave me? Outrageous, you’re just a whore aren’t you? A greedy whore, who’s so desperate for attention. You only sit your ass at home all day, you don’t even make your own money. You won’t survive without me, and you’re never leaving me.” He shouted, his tone making tears sting in your eyes. His grip grew stronger, almost cutting your circulation off. He let his grip go and pushed you on to the bed. You brought yourself up to your knees and attempted to crawl away from him, but two hands on your ankles stop you.

He pulled you back to him, before crawling on top of you. “Steve! Get off!” You shrieked, writhing beneath him. His hand slithered up from your ankles to your neck, wrapping itself around your throat. He squeezed tightly, not allowing any air to enter your lungs. You twisted yourself onto your back and scratched his face like a cat.

You barely broke the first layer of Steve’s skin, only leaving behind raging red marks. His hand left your throat and he caught your flailing claws. “Fuckin’ bitch.” He grumbled, twisting your arms until you thought he’d break them. “Fuck!” you screamed, deeply wishing that you had intrusive neighbours.

But Steve loved his privacy.

You kicked your legs up at him attempting to knock the large man that was mauling you. He laughed wryly, a sinister snicker that made you want to rewind time and avoid the man that was out of time. He put your wrists in the restraint that was his left hand, and he backhanded your face with the other.

Your poor cheek stung, prickled and pained you like no tomorrow and you wouldn’t have been surprised if he bruised your cheekbone. “Stop being such a bitch.” He growled, “Fuck you, Steve! Just let me go, we can get back together, okay?” You bargained, your throat hurting from him choking you.

“How can we get back together if we’re not even split apart?” He smirked. You couldn’t control the nth wave of tears that streamed on their own. You didn’t even hear the distinct clicking of Steve’s belt as he took it off. You coughed and choked as soon as the belt tightened around your neck, taking you by surprise.

“Can’t even handle me now.” He groused, wetting his dry lips at the sight of you teetering on the line of mercy. Your screams had died down to pitiful pleads for forgiveness. Your throat was raw and scratchy but that didn't stop you from begging.

“‘M not going to let you off the hook, doll, not until you learn your lesson.” He sneers, pulling you up by the leather belt. He reached behind himself and pulled open the drawer you never seemed to look into. He pulled out numerous pieces of black rope. And it wasn’t the BDSM kind, no. It was the type that he would tie villains and criminals with. He expertly wrapped it around your arms, putting them behind your back.

You watched him with absolute hatred as he tied your up, your eyes burning holes deep into his soul. “Oh please, don’t look at me like that. You put yourself in this problem.” He scoffed, his hand travelling up your chest to the top of your shirt. A loud rip fleeted in the air, and the shirt turned into two pieces of shredded cloth.

You winced with shame as coolness licked at your skin. You tried to wiggle away from him but you struggled to even move an inch. You wished that the sheets under you would magically turn to silk so you could slip away from him easier. His wandering hands pinched and rubbed whatever skin they found, before setting their arrival to the waist of your sweatpants.

He tugged it down until the cloth tangled itself at your feet. He pulled the sweatpants off your feet and threw them behind himself. You immediately tried to clamp your legs shut, but he quickly spread them apart to make room for himself. Your panties had a slight dampness that luckily didn’t soak through.

The slick was a result of seeing him shirtless after a while, not from Steve’s diabolical actions. You praised yourself for wearing black cotton panties, not a skimpy thong that would give you discomfort. You hissed and shut your eyes when you felt Steve’s thick fingers press against your most private area.

You knew he felt the slight wetness, and you knew you’d never hear the end of it. He tsk’d at you and began to chuckle, before pulling his fingers away. “You like this don’t ya?” He teases, turning you around to make you watch him strip his clothes off.

First went the shirt, then the pants, and then the boxers. Your mouth salivated as you watched his cock bounce up and hit his lower abdomen. The raging tip leaked with thick pre-cum and you would’ve begged to lick it all up if it weren’t for your pitiful situation.

He gripped the wide, thick base of his cock and gave it a few shallow strokes, making more pre-cum leak down. “Don’t lie to yourself, you want it bad, don't ya?” He smirks, reaching his hand down to cradle his balls. He swayed his head back and groaned, wishing that it was your mouth on his balls instead of his hands.

The Adam's apple in his throat bobbed and he swallowed thickly before pulling his hand away. Steve’s hands reached forward and he grabbed the belt again, bringing you forward to your knees. He abruptly let go of it and you nearly fell on your face like a baby that was learning how to walk for the first time. He caught you before you could face plant into the bed, and he laughed. The same laugh that once made you swoon had made you want to throw up.

“Oh how I love seeing you so helpless.” He smiled, before tugging on the makeshift leash again. You fell onto the floor with a deep, muted thud. The carpet had cushioned your fall but it didn’t fail to make your knees ache as well. You groaned and Steve pulled you up to face him.

Too bad his cock was distracting you.

Your tongue darted out to wet the dry skin of your lips. “Eyes up here.” He tugged the belt again, using two fingers to point at his eyes as if you were an idiot. “Such a dumb little baby.” He berated. The nickname never failed to make the white hot flame in your core begin to burn.

You rubbed your thighs slightly, hoping he didn’t notice. Oh but he did. “You like that, don’t ya? Such a dumb, stupid little baby.” He smiled as you whimpered at the nickname, your lips turning into a frown of disgust and humility. “I bet you’re fucking soaked, I bet you love this whole thing.” He kneeled down to your level as if he was talking down to a child.

“Since, you love this so fucking much, you’re going to love this.” You furrowed your eyebrows with confusion and panic. He stood back up and fisted his hard cock. You let out a squeak of refusal, shaking your head as his other hand gripped the belt and pulled you closer to his cock. “If you bite me, I’ll fuckin’ murder you.” His threat is blunt and it leaves you trembling. You nodded shakily and swallowed your fierce pride.

He forced his cock into your wet cavern and you struggled to breath. The belt, the shame, his cock and your fear all summed up to it. The taste of his pre-cum filled your mouth. You slowly began to relax your throat, adjusting yourself to his almost inhuman length and girth. Your gags filled the air and you clenched your hands into fists. Your nails pierced into your skin yet the pain was numb.

He gripped your hair and pulled his hips back until. His cock fell out of your mouth. “If you want me to go easy on you, put some effort into it.” He spat, making you nod your head feverishly. He thrusted his cock back into your mouth and your tongue laved at it. You hollowed your cheeks and traced the vein on the underside of his cock with your tongue.

He groaned and cursed under his breath. He pushed your head further down his cock,  forcing you to take all of him. Your noise met the small patch of pubic hair and saliva began to drip out of your mouth. You tried to bob your head, but his vice grip wouldn’t let you move.

“Fuck, you’re so much better when your mouth is stuffed full of cock.” He spoke. You swallowed around his and your life flashed before your eyes. Steve thrusted his cock back and forth, fucking your mouth. You struggled to keep up with his pace and his size. “Fuck yes…” He moaned, trailing off into a whine of pleasure.

You looked up at him and you swore you had never seen him so vulnerable. “You fucking love this, don’t you? Humping the air like a stupid little bunny.” His words caught you off guard. You realized you were bucking your hips against nothing, desperate for some sort of pleasure and you were disgusted.

You felt him kick your legs further apart and he pushed his foot in between them. You let out a sound of discomfort but the vibrations of your voice brought you no luck. Steve let out a strangled moan and then pulled your head off once again. His cock glistened with saliva and had a few streaks of his pre-cum.

You watched in awe and shame as it throbbed uncontrollably. “You wanna cum, don’t you? I know you do, baby.” He cooed. He was right, he knew you and your body so well. He knew every spot that had you writhing in his arms. “Do it, rub yourself on my foot.” He orders, wearing his stern voice.

He pushed his cock in your mouth and began to fuck it once again, his saliva-coated balls slapping against your chin. You felt your hips beginning to move back and forth on their own accord. Your arousal drooled out of your pussy and it smeared all over your core. The friction on your clit ignited a white hot flame in your belly and it burned. Steve’s thrusts frew sloppy yet they still held power.

Your hips sped up and you chased your orgasm. Were you that sensitive? You rolled your hips and your slick coated your inner thighs, drenching you. “You’re gonna cum already, huh? So sensitive, poor little slut.” He derided. Your throat ached immensely, raw from the rough face-fucking you were receiving.

You moaned around his cock continuously and saliva dripped down to your breasts. You were truly a debauched, scandalous sight. The vibrations from your moans, whines and groans only pushed Steve closer and closer to his release. You let out a garbled moan as Steve pulled his large cock out of your mouth. He had returned to wrap around his cock and he pumped it furiously.

The slick sounds from his cock, your stupid, pornographic moans and the obscene slick sounds from your pussy filled the room. “Fuck, look at me slut. Look at your Master.” He ordered, his voice was hoarse and raspy. To your dismay, it only made you chase your orgasm even faster.

You looked up at him and your face was etched with chagrin. Steve moaned loudly and thick, white ropes shot out of his raging tip. His cum coated your face, landed in your mouth and dripped down to your chest. “Oh fuck!” You cried out, cumming all over his foot. Your hole clenched around nothing and your clit throbbed as your heart clamoured wildly. You nearly fell forward into his legs, but he held you up. Cum dripped off your face slowly, some of it still was in your mouth. “Swallow it, now.” He lightly hit your cheek and waited for you to listen to him.

You took a deep breath and swallowed the slightly salty, yet sweet substance. The taste of it lingered for a bit, always reminding you of your shameful actions. The realization hit you and you wanted to throw up. He hurt you, insulted you, tied you up, forced you to suck his dick and you got pleasure out of it? You complied to his every order like a menial lackey, or maid. Y

ou looked up at him and waited patiently for him to untie you and set you free. He raised an eyebrow at you and crossed his arms. His large biceps flexed and you noticed that he too, was waiting for something. “Such a dumb fucking whore, huh. Now you gotta take me, gotta thank your Master for letting you suck his cock and letting you rub yourself on his foot.” He rolled his eyes as he spoke.

The name made your stomach churn with disgust. You stared at him and didn’t utter a word. You were determined to hold your ground and to not lose your morsel of dignity you had left. Seconds had passed, maybe even minutes too and the only thing you could hear was heavy breaths. Hell, your ears almost started to ring. “Such a shame,” He sighed.

“I bet your throat would look lovely with the imprints of my hands, or maybe even with the scar of a knife.” Steve hears your heart beats sped up and he notices the rises and falls of your chest have quickened. Only he knew that the threat was empty and you remained oblivious. You were truly terrified of the man before you.

“No! T- Thank you so- so much! Thank you so much, Master!” You quickly exclaimed, making him smile. The words burn on the tip of your tongue and they taste like ash. “Good girl.” He slightly slurred. The effects of his orgasm and power had finally washed over him for a brief, fleeting moment. The praise had you preening, almost giddy like an obedient little sub.

“You see, doll, if you keep being a good girl, you’ll get good things from your Master. And, I assume you know what would happen if you’re a bad girl, hmm?” He elucidated, slowly walking around you. “Mhm!” You were eager, far too eager. The contrast from your previous behaviour to your current behaviour riddled Steve.

You couldn’t lie, not even to yourself. You deeply valued your life, no matter what.

Steve pulled you up and looked into your eyes deeply. Wobbly legs struggled to hold you up and a deep, rousing ache settled in your bones and muscles. Your knees were raw from the carpet. Marks littered the skin and you were slightly chaffed, much to your dismay. His arms reached around your back and his hands gripped the bruising rope.

He pondered for a few seconds, freezing and furrowing his eyebrows together. You watched him with intent, watched him put the puzzle pieces together. He let go of the rope and the realization only then dawned upon you, he was going to untie you.

“Please Master? I’ve been such a good girl for you!” You cajoled, your eyes beaming at him like how the sun beamed down on the day of your marriage. “Here’s the thing, just because you’ve been a bit of a good girl, that doesn’t mean you can fool me.” He snidely remarked, talking you down. You pouted immaturely and wrinkled your nose with frustration.

Curse him and his smartness, he knew your tactics all too well. He’s not just a super-soldier-American-hero-hunk-of-hotness, he’s a smart man. He pushed you onto the bed and climbed onto your smaller body. His broad frame swallowed your much more petite one.

His large hands were rough and calloused, a stark disparity to your soft, supple breasts. He gripped and fiddled about, fingers pinching your pebbled nipples without a care in the world. Your arms grew numb and dumb, once upon a time useful limbs turned into futile things that no longer served purpose.

You watched with narrowed eyes as he brought his face closer to your chest, his movements on your right tit ceases. His tongue swirled around your nipple and his fingers tugged on the other. The feeling in all is bittersweet, pleasurable yet painful but in the end it still makes your arousal drench the sheets.

“O- Oh…” You gasped at the foreign feeling of roughness from Steve. He always would take his sweet, sweet time to worship your body. To kiss every curve and crevice. Yet there he was, inflicting pain like it was a bad addiction he just couldn’t get rid of. He let go of your sore nipple and began to suck hickies on the outer part. Like an abstract artist, he left marks of all sizes anywhere he wanted.

You watched him suck the other nipple in his mouth and he pinched the former one. “Oh, god!” You exclaimed in pain. The soreness made your pussy throb with want and need. You felt his soft lips upturn into a coy, cocky smirk against your tit, making you huff and roll your eyes.

His free hand -- the one that laid by his side -- began to move upwards and he grabbed the forgotten leather belt with it. A harsh tug had you wheezing and scurrying to apologize. “S- Sorry, Master!” You whimpered out. A small pop echoed around the room and Steve doesn’t waste time to tug on your poor nipple. “P- Please…” You whispered lowly, the sound of your voice barely reaching Steve.

“What do you want, hmm?” He needled as that same cocky smirk still played on his lips. You didn’t know what you wanted. Did you want him to let you go? Or to fuck you into oblivion? You bit your tongue as you struggled to put words together. “Stupid little whore doesn’t even know what she wants, huh?” Steve seethed. You let out a small wail at his tone, your legs spreading even wider -- just like a whore.

Steve tutted with a type of cockiness that made you want to slap his beautiful face silly. You felt his cock drag against your stomach as he slowly moved from being perched on your body. It was still impossibly hard and slightly sticky too. You whimpered at the feeling and moaned when you felt it lightly graze your sopping honey pot. He stood up in front of you and pushed your legs farther and farther apart, trying to build a home in between them.

You lifted your head up and watched as he stalked closer and closer to your pussy. Your wetness coated your thighs and dripped down to the bed. A small puddle pooled on top of those ludicrous Mulberry sheets. The bitter scent of your wetness filled Steve’s nostrils and it was divine.

It was a shame that he wasn’t going to eat you up like his last meal.

“If you lose count, I’ll start over. Oh, and don’t forget to thank your Master.” He bellowed. His words settled in the air for a few seconds and they had your brain in a fuss. What?- His hand came down onto your pussy and you writhed away when the loud sound of the spank reverberated.

He clearly was no merciful hero, no. Steve Rogers was a vile, vile man. “Are you that much of a dumb whore? You can’t even listen to simple instructions?” He spat, punctuating each word with a light spank to your cunt. He truly did love to see you in pain, to hear you whimper and to watch you struggle.

“N- No!” You shook your head wildly, objecting to his words. “Then listen to me!” He shouted, veins popping out and all. Fury and frustration seethed from him and fear left you like no tomorrow. He started over again and you thanked him for each one. The slight friction each spank came with was delicious and left you wanting more. Though they were painful, you couldn’t lie to yourself.

You fucking loved it, even with all the disgrace and ache it came with. “T- Twenty! Thank you, Master…” You cried out as your voice died down to a pathetic croak that made Steve chuckle. Your cunt throbbed uncontrollably, almost as if you were going to explode into a million broken pieces of want and need. “Poor baby…” He cooed, rubbing his sticky, broad fingers against your battered clandestine jewel. 

It glimmered brightly yet it was so dull. Used and abused to the point of no return on it’s own. His touch burned badly, so badly, yet you craved more of it. “Please, Master… Please use me, I need you so badly…” You begged. Your voice was no more than a whisper and Steve would’ve missed your words if it weren’t for his enhanced hearing.

“You want your Master to use this pussy, huh? ‘Cause you’re just a little fuck toy, right? My fuck toy.” He sneered maliciously, venom dripping from his words to the tip of his tongue and out his mouth. He stroked his raging cock again, rubbing the tip against your sore, throbbing clit. You mewled and bucked your hips up, almost as if you were chasing after his cock.

He ran the tip up and down your pussy, soaking it with your need. “Please!” You cried out, salty tears stinging your eyes. Your eyes rolled back and your back arched off the bed as Steve slammed his cock into your pussy. After 12 whole years, you still weren’t adjusted to the sheer size of his cock. Pain dwindled it’s way up your spine — slowly taking its time until it turned into blissful pleasure.

“Oh- Oh my god!” You squealed, pleasure abruptly ripping through your small body. A sticky, slick coated, lustrous hand wandered it’s way to the leather belt. He pulled on it and your eyes fell directly to where you both were being connected. Pain spiked in your neck and your muscles ached from the horride angle.

“See, pet? We’re not just connected at the soul and heart.” He breathed gently. The small flame that was in your belly spread throughout your body, turning into a blaze that wasn’t going to tame itself. His balls met your ass as he finally bottomed out. “God… You’re so fucking tight!” He howled, throwing his head back and swallowing thickly.

Your cunt was stuffed to the brim, barely containing his cock. You still felt a dull ache in your walls and pussy, thrumming with pain that you couldn’t heal. He pulled all the way out and pushed back in, before fucking you relentlessly. The feeling of him inside you was thick and hot like lava that would burn at the slightest touch.

He didn’t thrust into you slowly, nor did he kiss you gently with each groan and moan you let out. Instead, he tugged harshly at the makeshift leash and he plunged his cock in and out of your wet core. “Fuck!” You squealed, trying to back up from him. It was like you were his prey that was running away from the claws of the predator. One harsh pull from him brought you closer to him.

“Can’t handle my cock, just running away from it.” He trailed out, chuckling at your measly escape. His cock hit each and every spot that made you writhe. “Yes, yes, yes…” You felt your orgasm beginning to build up, taking over your senses. “You want me to fill you up, don’t you? Fill you up with my cum, stuff you full with it, right?” He panted.

“Fuck! Please, Master!” You wailed, a powerful orgasm surging through you. You wailed with a loud battle cry of defeat. He truly had conquered you. The hand on your waist moved down to your pussy, rubbing harsh, painful circles on your clit. “Ngh” You let out a sound of protest, your pussy contracting around him as you milked his cock. He fucked into you even harder than before, almost as if he wanted to break you.

“Gonna fill you up with my cum, make you carry my kid…” He grunted, swearing under his breath. His thrusts became sloppy and fitful whilst he verged his orgasm. His words finally sunk into you, bones and all. “No!” You protested, moving away from him. He pulled you even closer, keeping you impaled on his cock. “Nuh uh.” He tutted, deepening his thrusts.

“Please don’t!” You begged, even though you knew it was absolutely fruitless to do so. You felt his thrusts still, before he flipped you over. You wheezed from the abrupt action. He pulled your ass up into the air and spanked you. One, two, three. He pushed into you until his pelvis met your ass and his balls slapped your clit.

The feeling made you whine like a brat, a dumb needy brat. “You wanna cum again, baby?” He asked, his treacly, husky voice making you clench around his cock. You didn’t know what succubus in you awoken. “Please Master!” You begged.

He started to thrust into you again, his cock head nudging against that one spot that made you see heaven. Only Steve was able to find it, like some kind of hidden prize. The feeling in your arms slowly returned, making you smile. Your smile, though, quickly turned into a frown of pleasure as the knot in your stomach tightened. Your pussy clamped down onto Steve’s cock, squeezing him with all your might.

“Oh fuck!” He growled, barely containing himself. You couldn’t hold back either. Your eyes rolled back and your hips rocked against him. Your nails dug into your hands and you came with a scream, coating his cock with your cum. You continued to clench around him and he too decided to let go. Steve pushes deep inside you and shouted whilst he came. Thick ropes of his cum spurted inside of your womb, the warmth making you sigh. Steve slowly pulled his limp cock out, watching as some of his cum trailed out along with it. He scooped it up with two fingers and shoved it all back into your gaping hole, making you whimper.

“Hush now, we’re far from done.”