#dark! steve rogers x reader

[chxrryhansen]

౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐑𝐘

Pairing; Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings; smut, dark themes, non con, breeding kink, oral- both receiving, degrading, size difference, unbalanced power dynamic, huge daddy kink, choking- to the point reader can’t breathe, dumbification, dacryphillia, spanking, steve is very dark in this, no aftercare!! i think thats it? Minors please DNI!!!!!

Summary; Steve Rogers, your boyfriend, the man everybody loved, his soul soft, standing against all evils. Until he got a taste of that sweet power. He became hungry. Now, you have no choice but to obey his rules. Can you bring him back to the light? Or is it too late? (it’s definitely too late)

here we have my first ever full fic! firstly i would like to give a huge thankyou to @dbnightingale24 for giving me the confidence and tips to write this! and another big thankyou to @evansbby and @hansensgirl for inspiring me in the first place for begin writing💘it’s around 3k words and i really put my all into this so please don’t forget to comment and reblog, i would love to hear all of your feedback!🫶🏻 much love, cherry.

₊♡₊˚ 🎀・₊✧

Steve Rogers, the man everyone respected, the man everyone believed in, looked up too. The man you used to cherish, his sweet boyish nature drawing you in from the moment you met. His pearly blues that used to soften as they fell on you, his gentle touch as he caressed your hair, the tender, loving kisses he used to leave all over your body.

Until Fury resigned that was.

Steve was officially the new director of shield, to which nobody opposed, i mean, who would right? He was Captain America, the man out of time. He was perfcet for the role. Strong willed, commanding yet understanding, he had respect for those beneath him and most of all he was compassionate, something that was hard to find in a good leader. This didn't last for long, of course.

Steve shortly became power hungry, his morals became more sick and twisted as his methods became more sadistic. He was violent, cruel…volatile. There was no bringing back Steve Rogers. The problem was he dragged everybody else down with him, nobody dared to stand up to Steve, too frightened of the consequences.

Tony couldn't talk Steve down, he tried for a while, attempted to reach out to him, guide him back to the light...but nothing worked. Tony couldn't do it, nor could you, not even his best friend of over a decade could sway his newfound mindset. You all figured it was best to keep your heads down from now on and follow Steves orders, no matter how out of line they seemed.

Not that you had a choice anyway.

Bucky was short to follow in his footsteps as his second in command. Both cruel and unforgiving. Your friendship with Bucky was practically non-exhistant, you no longer had movie nights together, giggling with big buckets of popcorn.

A simple nod of his head as he passed you down the hall was about as much as you would get. Steve wouldn't allow it now anyway.

Steve's display of affection changed alongside him, the love he made was no longer passionate, or gentle. In fact, he didn’t make love at all anymore… what he made was simply rough, hard, fucking.

The marks he left behind were no longer loving hickeys while he whispered in your ear, moaning sweet nothings as he gently thrusted his hips into your own. His eyes, gleaming with nothing but pure devotion.

They were bruises... bruises from how hard his hips slammed into your ass from behind, his grip tight on your hair, pulling and tugging as your skin became flustered at the impact of his thrusts. You missed the man he was. You often thought about that life while his cock was busy destroying your cunt. He didn’t care about your pleasure anymore, you were nothing but a hole for him to fuck.

From a distance you could hear Steves heavy boots storming down the coridoor. The sound was instantly unsettling. Your body recognising the noise as a trigger for an oncoming threat, sending you into alert mode.

You stood from your office chair on shaky legs, your posture rigid as he turned the corner to enter. His 6'4, stoic figure coming into view, casting a shadow that filled the room. His broad shoulders spread wide, his presence making your tummy tighten with unease.

He said nothing as he stared down at you, your fingers tugging at your short pink skirt- which he had chosen out for you this morning, the same way he customised your figure every morning. Claiming your dumb, baby brain was incapable of choosing an outfit that proved elegance and professionalism. In reality it was the complete opposite.

He liked to dress you in short skirts, ones that left little to the imagination, your asscheeks peeking out most days and revealing blouses, your tits practically spilling out of your shirts. You were highly sought after by the males at the compound before he came and scooped you up a few years ago.

They knew you were his, i mean he was your boyfriend for several years, you were what the female agents used to coo at, naming you as "couple goals". Where Steve went, you went, and vice versa. You were always seen smiling and giggling together, tag teaming on missons and holding hands as you explored the compound.

But, as steves power grew so did his insecurity. His possesive nature grew strong, wanting, no, needing to show other men you belonged to him, and only him. And you always would, whether you liked it or not.

"Get on your knees."

"Wh-What?"

"Get on your knees. You know i don't like to repeat myself." he growls while pushing your office door closed with one arm from behind, not daring to take his eyes of you.

You gulped as he stepped forward, caging you inbetween his thick biceps as you lean against your desk. One thing he was always good at was making you feel small. Even before all of this. Of course it wasn't anywhere near as threatening as it was now. He used to joke about how tiny you were compared to him, how he could pick you up with one hand, it was cute how big and protective he was of you.

Now, he used it to his advantage. He knew you feared him. He knew that you knew, you would never be able to run from him. He would overpower you every damn time with his brute strength.

There was no running from Steve Rogers. His thick beard scraped against your sensitive skin sending shivers down your spine as he groaned into your neck, your scent driving him wild.

He whispered darkly in your ear "Final chance. Get on your knees. Now, or you won't like what'll happen if you refuse me again."

You inhaled sharply, goosebumps spreading across your body in pure fear, or ecstacy. It was hard to tell these days. Steve had conditioned you so well to his own liking that even your body reacted to him in ways you would never fully understand. Or so he says.

Slowly you inched down towards the floor with your knees bent. The cold, rough flooring instantly proving to be uncomfortable as you figited. But Steve didn't care about that, why would he? His thick hand gripped your chin, forcing you to look up at him through hooded eyelids.

His thumb swipes across your bottom lip, he then pushes further, massaging your tongue as saliva begins to pool in your mouth. Removing his thumb slowly, he tugged on your bottom lip with pinched fingers. Before you even realised what was happening he shoves two fingers down your throat.

You sputter and gag around his thick digits, drool leaking out of the corners of your mouth, dripping onto the hard floor. Your eyes squeezed shut in pain as tears began rolling down your flustered cheeks.

His other hand is quick to grip your hair, tugging harshly. "You fuckin' look at me while daddy gags you with his fingers. Actin' like you don't get off on this shit. You love it. Say 'thankyou daddy'." he mocks with a high pitched tone.

Desperately trying to get the words out, you mumble around his fingers, seeming incoherent. He laughs darkly at your poor attempt, shoving his fingers deeper down your throat, gagging you one last time before pulling out.

"You gonna' be a good whore n' suck my dick? Huh? You fuckin' slut." His hand reaches down, pulling your shirt to the side, making your tits spill out. You hear him let out a loud groan, his pants tightening at the sight of your bare chest. He pinches your hard nipple roughly, rolling it roughly inbetween his index finger and thumb as you cry out, tears continuing to stream down your cheeks.

He shushes your cries gently as he begins to massage the same spot he previously assaulted making you keen with pleasure.

He had a thing for associating pain with pleasure, confusing your silly little brain into thinking the hurt he put you through was a good thing since pleasure soon followed. That he was rewarding you.

"Unzip me. Cmon' you dumb baby, take daddys fat cock out."

Listening to your own heartbeat in your ears, your head pounding with adrenaline, your fingers itch towards his pants. Which was apparently too slow for his liking as his grip on your hair tightens, making you sqeeze your eyes shut briefly before opening them, not wanting to anger him further.

You hurridly unzip his pants, reaching into his boxers and pulling out his cock. It's angry head pointing towards you as he grips the base with his other hand, slowing pumping his shaft over your face.

He pushes his bulbous tip into your closed lips, smearing his hot precum all over them. When you refuse to open your mouth he growls, pinching your nostrils closed. Feeling the air begin to leave your lungs, you gasp for breath and he's quick to shove his dick down your throat.

Gagging at the intrusion you cry harder, your lips stretching to fit around his thick length. his hips thrusting into your face as he fucks your throat harshly.

"That's it, you whore. Take daddys dick all the way down your throat. You fuckin' remember this the next time you try to refuse me."

His hand which was previously tugging at your hair moves towards your throat, holding you in a tight grip.

"Fuck... i can feel my fuckin' cock in that tiny throat of yours. Love it when you cry f' me, just makes me want to fuck you even harder, sweet girl." he grunts loudly over the sound of your gagging. Steve swiftly pulls his dick out as you keel over, coughing and sputtering, your throat sore from his brutal assault.

Before you even have a chance to gain your breath, his thick hands grip your shoulders, pulling you upright, bending you over your desk. Your legs shaking as he positions you so your ass is sticking out.

Lowering himself to the ground, he grips the flesh of your ass, squeezing roughly as he lifts up your skirt, briskly pulling your panties to the side. He shoves his nose into your pussy, groaning in delight at your sweet scent.

"Fuck i could live inbetween these slutty legs, your cunt's always ready for daddy, huh? Trained you so well." Your sticky juices smeared across your legs, dripping with desire, his facial hair bristling against your thighs making you squirm.

He mercilessly pushes his tongue as deep as it can go into your hole. You whimper as he laps up your wetness, his tongue prodding at your insides. Your arousal soaking his beard while your pussy clenched around his tongue. He pulls away for a moment, “God, how do you taste so fuckin’ good.” he groans.

Reaching back to grip his hair in your small fists, you go to push his face back into your cunt, completely overwhelmed with pleasure. His hand grips your wrist tightly, pining your arm to the desk, a sure reminder of who's in charge, seeming as you had forgotten your place. “Stay fuckin’ still or i’ll stop. Don’t you ever pull that shit again.”

You moan lewdly as he moves to latch onto your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around your sensitive bundle of nerves. Groaning into your pussy as he fists his cock.

Your eyes begin to roll back as your orgasm itches closer. Steve, realising this, pulls away once again. Your juices stringing from your clit to his lips as you cry out, your orgasm beginning to fade.

"Stop with the fuckin' whining. Daddy's gonna' fuck you now. Tell daddy how much you want his cock...Cmon. No need to act all innocent now." he pressures at your hesitation.

"P-Please daddy wan' you to fuck me."

"You can do better than that." Steve husks, giving your ass a harsh smack from behind, knowing your skin will blister from his force.

Your lips quiver as you cry, "Please! N-Need your cock inside me so badly, wan' you to destroy me for anybody else. Wanna' feel you in my cervix daddy, Jus' wanna make you feel good. Love how full you make me feel. Please...I-I'll die if you don't fuck me. Pretty pretty ple-."

and before you can finish your sentence your cut off by your own scream, his cock dissapearing inbetween your folds as he bottoms out with a singular thrust. Your legs become slack as your body spasms at the intrustion, his hands grip your hips, keeping you in place as you squirm, instinctively trying to escape his hold.

"F-Fuck, Y-Your so big daddy. It hurts so bad, p-pull out!"

"Shut up." he groans as his thick hand covers your mouth from behind. “Gonna fuckin’ dog fuck you til you can’t think of anything but this fat fuckin’ cock you dirty little slut, you hear me?” he practically growls as he begins to fuck you.

The sound of clapping skin begins to fill the room, agents around the compound sure to hear the way his dick bruitalises your cunt.

"Such a filthy girl i have, always so desperate for daddy to fuck you, even when you try and deny it, i know this sweet pussy would never lie to me." He coos in your ear as you sob, your face wet with tears and saliva.

"My messy whore, see what happens when you don't listen to me? You see what a mess you become? Fuck. You look so pretty like this, this is how you should always be, filled to the brim with my fat dick.”

Steve had always loved fucking you braindead, watching as your eyes glaze over and your tongue begins to hang out of your mouth, drooling all over yourself. It made him feel powerful, like you were dependent on him. Which you were in a sense, always so needy and desperate for him to fuck you.

The impact of his animalistic thrusts turn your skin raw as he speeds up. His arm wrapping around your waist, pressing you close to him as he spreads his legs further apart, hitting a new angle inside your pussy. You let out a loud wanton moan as his balls slap against your clit.

“F-Fuck yes! H-Harder daddy.”

“Yeah? You like that? I know you do, it’s okay. Is my little girls brain goin’ fuzzy? Huh? Poor girl.” Steve mocked, amusement clear in his tone. "M' gonna' cum. Daddy please can i cum?" you whine, the knot in your stomach tightening, a warning that your orgasm was near.

"Yeah baby? You gonna' cum for me you dirty whore? Go ahead, cum all over my dick. Can feel you clenching around me, grippin' me like a fuckin' vice."

Your cream coats his length as you let out a muffled cry, biting your lip harshly as you cum.

"T-Thankyou daddy. Feels s-so good..." you babble, your thick cream creating a ring around the base of his cock. Your weight giving out once again as Steve holds you, smirking as he watches you come undone, giving you no escape from his relentless thrusts.

His thick shaft pummeling your insides as you scream with ecstacy, your pussy throbbing as he fucks you through your high.

"F-Fuck look at that... love watching your cream leak around my cock, taking this dick so good for me. Gonna' cum inside you...yeah? You want daddy to fill you up?" he groans as his own orgasm nears, talking himself through it.

"God, this cunt treats me like a fuckin' king. It's coming baby, daddys gonna cum, Oh fuck fuckkk." his hips twitch and his balls throb as his load begins to fill you, shooting out thick ropes of hot cum into your pussy. Moaning at the sensation of his warmth inside you.

“Take my fuckin’ cum. That’s it, good girl. Love watchin’ your pussy swallow my hot fuckin load, bet you love it too, hm? You slut.” he pants, exhausted from the brutal fucking he just gave you.

He snaps out of it almost instantly, pulling out without warning and tucking his softening cock back into his pants.

Giving your ass a harsh smack, he steps back. You turn to look at him, your eyes glazed over. He stares at the ground with no emotion as he combs his locks with his fingers, making himself seem presentable.

Hope fills you, your heart races as you lick your lips in anticipation, wondering if he will stay to comfort you and hold you the way he used to many months ago.

But he doesn't. You get nothing but a short glance as he turns to exit your office, slamming the door shut on his way out. You slump down against the floor, a complete mess.

Your soft cries turn to sobs, breathing rapidly, your hands gripping your hair as you raise your knees to your chest. It was almost as if he had you in a trance when he was burried inside your cunt, as soon as he was done it was like the fog in your brain had cleared.

People told you there was no bringing the old Steve back, that your sweet, caring boyfriend was gone. Replaced by a monster.

You didn't want to believe them... but maybe you should've.

[p3sephone]

No escape (Dark! Natasha Romanoff x reader x dark! Steve Rogers)

Summary: Natasha and Steve found a common interest, and that is you. But then you say things like you want to break up, and then escape. So, of course they take you back, and then make sure you understand the hardest way you can't really leave them.

Warnings: past non-con, physical and psychological abuse, manipulation, Natasha is a warning herself, kidnapping, drugging, future non-con implied, dark thought on reader. This is a dark story with dark themes, so minors are NOT ALLOWED, only +18. I don't own these characters.

Note: okay so, I kinda have a little thought about turning this into a serie or at least make part 2. What do you think? Anyway, any comment, like or reblog is truly appreciated. <3 Requests are open!

She didn't know what was going through her mind. It was something crazy what she had just done, and yet Natasha continued to drive towards her desolate destination while your helpless and drugged body was in the back of the seats. She had to admit, she had always been determined and rigid in her decisions, but even she wavered sometimes. Especially when it came to you. But you were so stubborn, what was she supposed to do?

You had left her. You had left her and Steve. She still remembered the conversation from days ago.

"I want to break up."

They were extremely simple words, but coming out of your mouth they were truly surreal. Natasha focused directly on you with an expressionless look, while Steve was already getting more nervous as he started to walk towards you. Natasha had always been the one who talked less than Steve: she was the one more inclined to inflict punishments and make you cry, Steve agreed with her but only when necessary.

If it were up to Natasha, you would have been locked up in that New York apartment at all hours and without the possibility of leaving. She remembered how your relationship was at the beginning: you, Steve and her. It had been born spontaneously, or rather, well, Natasha had perhaps manipulated more than a few things to ensure that the three of you ended up together and that Steve would give her more support when it came to having a firm hand on you.

If only she had had her way, those stupid words would never have come out of your mouth. Steve immediately asked the reasons and Natasha made a face of contempt at you. No, she was not willing to get into that conversation, because there was nothing to discuss: you would not have moved from there, far from them. She had to remind you that, even before Steve, Natasha had seen you for the first time. You were hers. Then the blond noticed you and Natasha didn't mind sharing with him, also because she knew she needed help in the early days because she knew we would get to this point without the right discipline.

"I don't feel good in this relationship anymore, I want… I want the life I had before." Natasha understood how uncertain you were when talking and did what she knew how to do best: manipulate you. She had manipulated you in every way, listing every single thing they had done for you, how well they treated you not only during your daily routine, but also during the nights you spent alone before.

That day she remembered that made you cry a lot, from humiliation. You felt humiliated deep down and somehow you knew that Natasha and Steve were wrong, but your body didn't have the strength to pull back from the long session of suffocating cuddles they forced you to after that argument.

Natasha remembered all of that vividly. Yet, her manipulation, her ways, even her kindness and mercy towards you hadn’t been enough to keep you confined in that apartment. Somehow that adorable head of yours had managed to find a way to escape from them. Steve was the first to discover it, and he felt mostly concern, followed by sadness and anger. Natasha knew Steve: he was a good guy, but if you pressed the right spots he became exactly like her. And Natasha didn’t need the Steve who was kind and adorable to you, she needed the other Steve, the same one you had dealt with one night when you had decided to reject them both in bed and insulted them. You had suffered some bruises and a bad headache, but Natasha remembered how well you had behaved in the days that followed.

Natasha’s mind suddenly cleared. She had done the right thing, she had followed you to that bar and drugged your soft drink, she had finally dragged you away without your dumb friends noticing anything. Oh, she would fix them later, but first she needed to teach you a lesson. She sneered wickedly. She just had to press that button. So, she called Steve. The infamous captain didn't take long to answer, looking all worried.

"Steve, I got her back. I'm taking her to our plan b, that place you know about." Natasha didn't even give him time to speak and continued in a stiff, angry voice. "Do you know where she was? She wasn't in danger. She was with her friends, in a bar and dressed in a shabby way. She had a man on her and she was completely ready for his attentions, you have no idea how she was dancing. She dressed like we always forbade her to, she drank and accepted a bag of… I don't know, but I took her out of there. I did the right thing, didn't I, Steve?"

Natasha didn't need an answer. She had actually lied: you weren't doing any of that, you were just talking to your friends and when a man approached you you politely rejected him like the beautiful little girl you are.

But Natasha had to make you understand that there were consequences if you ran away from them, and Steve would never guarantee those consequences unless she said the things he hated the most.

Natasha thought you were cute in those short, skimpy dresses, it just made her want to rip them off, Steve preferred a more conservative part. Natasha hated it when anyone else paid attention to you, Steve did the same. Natasha liked you when you were drunk because you couldn't remember what she did to you during that time, Steve… well, he might be lying but he actually liked you too, even if with more guilt.

"I'm coming." Steve didn't give Natasha time to say anything else, he had already hung up. The red-haired woman looked at your poor, still helpless and unaware figure in the mirror. You had no idea what was waiting for you but Natasha did, and she was going to savor every second of it. You'll never leave her again, she'll make sure of it.

[inevitablysomber-dark]

Under The Radar 2

Dark! Steve Roger x Kiwi! Reader

Dividers by @Strangergraphics

Warnings:

This story contains themes of emotional manipulation, power imbalance, dubious consent, toxic relationships, and psychological control. It deals with difficult subjects such as forced dependency and mental/emotional abuse. Reader discretion is advised.

Description: Kiwi thought she had her life under control—until a chance invitation to the Maldives from her former friend pulls her into a web of manipulation and control. What starts as a luxurious vacation turns into a slow descent into captivity as Steve, the wealthy man funding her escape from reality, begins to tighten his grip on her life. Now trapped in a toxic relationship where affection becomes control, Kiwi must navigate a world where every decision is made for her, every boundary crossed, and escape seems impossible.

Is it too late to reclaim her freedom, or will she succumb to the life Steve has crafted for her?

Story Masterlist

The first week flew by faster than I expected. Every morning began with fancy breakfasts, the kind I only saw in magazines, avocado toast, fluffy omelets, and fresh fruit that looked like it was picked moments before being served. Sharon, of course, made sure everyone knew she was "so not into carbs anymore" while sipping on her detox tea. I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes every time she said it.

After breakfast, it was always beach yoga. At first, I was reluctant to join in. Honestly, the idea of stretching out in front of everyone made me feel vulnerable, like they’d all be watching, waiting for me to slip up. But Steve wouldn’t let me bow out so easily.

“Kiwi, you’re being unfair if you don’t participate,” he’d said that first morning, his intense gaze pushing me to comply. I didn’t want o argue, so I went along.

Turns out, I didn’t completely hate it. I found that Natasha was really good at it, and Peter surprised me by being much more flexible than I’d thought possible. Thor and Bruce were always messing around, making snarky comments about “zen” while Jane and Pepper giggled on their mats. Even Sharon managed to keep her mouth shut long enough to focus on her poses, and since Steve chose to claim the mat right beside me, I felt her gaze wandering toward our direction every so often.

We did something new every day, snorkeling, paddle boarding, hiking through the lush landscape that stretched around the villa. One afternoon, Jane tried convincing me to join her and Thor on a boat trip to explore some nearby coves, but I declined, claiming I needed some alone time. Truthfully, the constant reminders that I didn’t quite belong were grating on me. I’d still catch the occasional pointed look between Sharon and Steve, or notice how the girls would subtly nudge me toward Peter at every opportunity. Notably, Sharon, Jane and Pepper. Natasha backed off once she realized I wasn’t into the idea.

Despite the tension, though, I had to admit, I was having fun. Even if I was still on the outside looking in.

One night, after a particularly long day, I overheard Sharon and Steve whispering, their voices hushed but heated. I couldn't make out everything, but toward the end, I could hear Steve’s voice clear as day “Yeah, well some promises are meant to be broken”

I left before I could be caught snooping, but hearing Steve and Sharon argue gave me a strange sense of satisfaction. For all her perfect appearances, maybe Sharon didn’t have it all under control after all.

On the seventh day, group had decided that they wanted to do a bonfire, and I had been tasked with starting the fire, which, of course, wasn’t going well. Every time I thought I had it, the flames would sputter out, leaving me more and more frustrated. Natasha sat nearby, casually chatting with Bruce, both of them too invested in their conversation to notice my issues with starting the fire.

Amidst my struggle, I briefly wondered if Bruce and Natasha had a thing, but before I could delve further into those thoughts Steve appeared at my side. “Need some help?” he asked, crouching down beside me.

I glanced up, heat rushed to my cheeks in embarrassment, but I nodded. “Yeah, I guess I’m not much of a fire-starter.”

He chuckled softly, taking over without a word. Within minutes, the flames were roaring, casting a warm, dancing light across the sand.

“See? Not as bad as you thought it’d be,” Steve said, standing back to admire his work, and in that moment, you knew he didn’t mean the fire.

I sighed, leaning back a little. “Yeah, I guess not. Thanks… for, you know, letting me stay. Even though you kinda forced my hand,” I added with a half-smile.

Steve smiled back, but there was something unreadable in his eyes. “Does that mean you’re staying for the whole trip?”

I paused, weighing my options. Part of me still wanted to run, but I wasn’t ready to face my parent yet. Especially now that this vacation was starting to take a better turn. “Yeah, I’ll stay,” I said at last.

He gave a small nod, satisfaction flickering across his face before turning back toward the group. Eventually, everyone joined me by the fire, settling in comfortably. Sharon nestled against Steve’s side, Tony teased Pepper while Jane laughed at a joke Thor was telling, and Peter casually slipped into the seat next to mine.

Steve handed me an unopened beer with a bottle opener, raising his own drink to a toast. “Here’s to the first week of vacation,” he announced. “And to Kiwi staying with us.” He looked my way with a smirk and a wink before bringing his attention back to Sharon.

Sharon shot me a look, something close to annoyance flickering in her eyes before she rolled them and muttered a dull “Yay.” Everyone else raised their bottles in unison, but I noticed Steve watching me, waiting.

I glanced down at the unopened beer in my hand. “I don’t really drink,” I said quietly, feeling everyone’s eyes on me. “Alcoholism runs in my family.”

It was a lie, but it was the excuse I always used when I felt pressured to drink. Steve didn’t back off, though. He just gave me a slow, almost calculating smile. “It’s just one beer, Kiwi. I promise I’ll keep an eye on you if you want a second.”

I hesitated, feeling the weight of everyone gaze. Then, almost against my better judgment, I shrugged popping the cap and taking a swig.

As I drank, I caught Peter watching me from the corner of my eye, his expression unreadable. The fire crackled loudly in the silence that followed, and for a moment, I thought I saw Natasha exchange a knowing glance with Bruce. But I brushed it off.

What’s one beer?

I stumbled into the villa, the world swaying a little more than I was used to. Three beers. Not drunk, but definitely tipsy. Everyone else was still outside, laughing and carrying on, and I just couldn't handle the thought of joining them in their level of drunken chaos. So, I waved them off with a lazy, "Goodnight," and made my way inside.

Each step felt heavier, like gravity was trying to pull me into the floor. I rarely drank this much. Usually, it was just a flute of champagne at some family. But three beers was something, I really wasn’t into.

When I finally made it to my room, I knew exactly how to navigate the dark to get to my bed. But my clothes... I couldn’t stand sleeping in my normal clothes, not even after a night like this. Just change, Kiwi, it’ll take a second, I thought, knowing full well that moving any more might send me falling.

It took everything I had to peel off my clothes, my fingers fumbling with fabric like I’d forgotten how to undress. When my clothes were finally off, I opted to just sleep in the nude, unable to fathom putting on pajamas without falling apart at the seems

Finally, I let myself collapse into the bed, my body sinking deep into the mattress. My head was spinning a bit, but sleep was wrapping around me like a warm blanket, pulling me in. “This isn’t so bad,” I thought, my eyelids heavy. *I just need to sleep it off...*

But then something felt... off.

My eyes fluttered open, and that’s when I saw it. A dark figure standing at the edge of my bed.

Panic shot through me, but I couldn’t move. My body wouldn’t respond. I was frozen, trapped in place, my chest tightening as fear flooded every inch of me. I tried to scream, to sit up, to do *anything*, but it was like my body had shut down. I could hear weird, muffled grunts and gurgles coming from the shadowy figure, but they sounded distant, distorted, like they weren’t even real.

*Who is that? What’s happening? *

My mind raced, trying to make sense of it, but I couldn’t focus. The fear was overwhelming, suffocating. And just as quickly as it started, it ended. My body gave in, and I felt myself slipping back into unconsciousness, the image of that shadow still burned into my mind as sleep finally pulled me under again.

The next morning when I woke up, the memory of the shadowy figure still lingered in my mind. My heart raced for a second, but with the clarity of daylight, I convinced myself it was just a bad dream. Maybe it was the beers messing with my head or the exhaustion from the trip. Either way, I brushed it off as nothing more than a fleeting nightmare.

I threw on a robe and made my way to breakfast. When I stepped into the dining area, only one person was sitting at the table—Steve.

"Morning," Steve greeted me, his voice cheerful, a little too chipper for someone who had been drinking the night before. I scanned the table, noticing the elaborate breakfast spread, but it felt odd not seeing anyone else.

“Morning,” I replied, hesitating for a second before sitting down. "Where is everyone?"

"Hungover," he said with a chuckle. "They really went all out last night”

That made sense. They all drank a lot me than me last night. "And you? How come you're not suffering?"

Steve gave a small smirk, shrugging. "My system’s made of steel, so I rarely get hungover."

Of course, he didn't. Steve seemed invincible most of the time, and I wasn't surprised he could shrug off a night of heavy drinking. I glanced at the food in front of us. "Should we wait for them?"

"Nah," Steve waved it off. "With the way they were drinking, we might be here till dinner before anyone shows up. Go ahead and dig in."

I didn’t need much convincing. I slid into one of the side chairs, while Steve took his usual place at the head of the table. We ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Steve broke it.

"Got any plans for today?" he asked, a little too casually.

Surprised, I looked up from my plate. "I figured since we were staying in, since no one else is gonna be up for anything until later, right?"

Steve raised an eyebrow, his tone playful. "Just because they're out for the count doesn't mean we have to be. I was thinking we could head into town. Do some sightseeing, meet the locals."

"Meet the locals?" I echoed, genuinely surprised. Steve didn’t exactly strike me as the type to go out of his way to meet people outside his own circle. "You want to hang out with locals?"

He chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "We’ll stick to the tourist spots, don’t worry. And just because I’m from a different social class doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy stepping out of it now and then."

I caught the subtle dig and realized he’d picked up on my jab. I decided to brush it off, unsure of how else to respond. "Sounds fun, but I just downloaded a new book on my phone, and I thought I’d spend the day cracking into it."

Steve leaned forward, his eyes narrowing slightly. "There’ll be plenty of time for that later.” Pushing back into his chair “C’mon, it’ll be good to get out of the villa for a bit. When we get back, everyone should be ready for dinner, and you can get to your book."

I hesitated, weighing the options. Truthfully, it did sound nice to get out, but one thing nagged at me. "What about Sharon?” I knew she wouldn’t like the idea of me and Steve hanging out together all day. Even if she was sure nothing would happen. Back when we were all at University Sharon had always been very possessive over Steve, something I found that she hasn’t quite grown out of since.

Steve’s expression softened slightly, and he gave me a reassuring smile. "Don’t worry about Sharon. She’ll be fine."

It took less convincing than I thought, but eventually, I caved. After all, Steve wasn’t wrong—sitting in the villa all day wasn’t going to do me much good, and maybe getting out would help clear my mind from last night’s weird dream. Plus, the idea of staying cooped up with Sharon still hungover didn’t seem appealing.

"Alright," I finally agreed, sighing in defeat. "Let’s do it."

Steve grinned, pleased with himself. "Great. We’ll head out after morning yoga. Sound good?"

I nodded, the tightness in my chest easing up just a little. After breakfast, we made our way out to the beach for our routine yoga session, the sound of the waves calming my nerves. The fresh air helped clear my head, and by the time we finished and headed back to our rooms to get ready for the day, I was actually looking forward to seeing what the rest of the day had in store.

The market buzzed with life, a mix of scents and sounds that made my head spin. Everywhere I looked, there were bright colors, loud voices, and locals selling everything from spices to handmade crafts. Steve, surprisingly, fit right in, despite how out of place I felt. He was bartering with a vendor, his grin disarming, his confidence unshakable. I hung back, watching him work his magic.

After a few minutes, he walked over to me, holding something small in his hand. “Thought you might like this,” he said, handing me a delicate wooden carving of a flower.

I took it, feeling the smooth surface under my fingers. “What is it?”

“Frangipani,” Steve said, his eyes gleaming like he was proud to know something I didn’t. “It’s a flower native to the Maldives. Beautiful, isn’t it? Known for its lovely fragrance and unique beauty.” He paused, watching my reaction. “It’s associated with love and new life. Quite fitting, don’t you think?”

I blinked, what was he getting at? “Well, I’m sure Sharon would love it.” I said trying to hand him back the wooden carving.

Instead of taking it back, Steve holds his hands up in refusal. “It’s for you” he says. I stared down at the flower in my hand, feeling its weight even though it was light. The symbolism, the beauty, everything about it made me feel like there was more to this gift than just a thoughtful gesture.

Then I started wondering if Steve had been apart of the plan to set me up with Peter. It didn’t seem like it, and frankly, I didn’t want to jump to any conclusions just to be wrong. So, I kept the thought to myself, hoping that this was nothing more than a simple gift.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, slipping the trinket into my pocket, the discomfort in my chest lingered.

Steve just smiled, that same easy charm never faltering. We continued through the market, his casual jokes carefully pulling me out of my thoughts.

Next Steve convinced me to go on a boat ride. The gentle sway of the boat rocked me into a strange calm, the cool breeze brushing past as we cruised along the island, it all felt so peaceful, the endless ocean stretching out in every direction, making me feel like a small piece in a large system. Steve sat beside me, more relaxed than I’d ever seen him. His usual cocky air had softened, and for a moment, he almost seemed… normal.

"That’s where they used to fish for manta rays," Steve said, pointing out to a distant spot in the water. "They stopped the practice years ago and turned it into a conservation zone."

I nodded, pretending to care about manta rays or conservation or whatever, but my mind was elsewhere. The weight of everything I’d been holding onto lately, from my job to my future, felt like it was pushing down on me, threatening to break through the calm the boat ride offered.

Steve’s voice broke through my thoughts. “You, okay? You seem a little distant.”

I blinked, not expecting the question. “Yeah, just… thinking.”

“About what?” He turned his head to look at me, his eyes not demanding, just curious. For once, there was no smirk, no hint of arrogance. He seemed genuinely interested.

I hesitated, unsure if I wanted to share anything real with him. But something about the quiet sea and the way he looked at me, like he actually wanted to hear, disarmed me. Before I knew it, I was spilling the truth.

“It’s just… graduating and all. I thought by now I’d have my life figured out; you know? Like, I’d be working in my field, doing something meaningful. But here I am, back to square one, still jobless and feeling like a failure.”

I hadn’t meant to say that much, but the words just kept coming, like I’d been waiting for someone. Anyone. to ask.

Steve didn’t interrupt. He just listened, nodding along like he actually understood. And maybe he did, or at least wanted me to believe he did.

“It’s frustrating,” I continued, the knot in my chest loosening just a bit. “I spent all that time studying, working my ass off, and now it feels like none of it mattered. Like I’m not good enough to make it work.”

Steve leaned back, gazing out at the horizon. “You’re good enough. Sometimes it’s not about skill or effort, it’s about luck, timing.” He shrugged, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Or maybe you’re just looking in the wrong places.”

I scoffed, shaking my head. “I’ve looked everywhere, Steve. It’s not like I haven’t tried.”

He nodded thoughtfully, then gave me a sideways glance. “You don’t have to keep trying so hard. You’re allowed to breathe, you know. There’s more than one way to get where you want to go.”

I bit my lip, unsure what he was getting at. Was this his version of advice?

Steve shifted slightly; his tone still casual but with a hint of something deeper. “I’m sure your parents didn’t send you to school just to see you struggle like this, right?”

I stiffened slightly at the mention of my parents. He wasn’t wrong. My parents expected a lot from me, and failure wasn’t an option in their eyes. I sighed, feeling the familiar pressure creep back. “Yeah, they didn’t.”

Steve nodded again, his eyes lingering on me for a moment longer before he looked back at the sea. “Well, if you ever need help... I could always talk to my dad. Maybe set you up with something real. Something that actually matches your degree.”

I blinked, taken aback. “Your dad? Like, at his company? Rogers and Co?”

He grinned, “Yeah, why not? I’ve seen what you’re capable of. It’s not like it’d be a handout.”

I didn’t know what to say. Part of me was flattered, the other part suspicious. Steve wasn’t exactly known for his altruism, but in that moment, he made it sound like he was doing me a favor just because he could. Maybe it was the way he said it, like it was no big deal. Like I didn’t have to worry about my future anymore.

“I’ll… think about it,” I muttered, trying to process his offer.

“Take your time,” Steve said, flashing me that charming grin. "We've still got plenty of trip left."

As the boat ride continued, the gnawing feeling of failure in my gut didn’t go away entirely, but for the first time in a long time, I felt like maybe things wouldn’t stay this bad forever. At least, not with someone like Steve in my corner.

After the boat ride, Steve suggested we stop for lunch at a quiet seaside café. The breeze from the ocean mixed with the scent of seafood and spices, giving everything a laid-back, tropical feel. It should’ve been relaxing, but the moment we sat down, my stomach twisted in knots—not from hunger, but from the nerves that always seemed to grab a hold of me lately.

He flipped through the menu like it was second nature, while I stared at mine, feeling overwhelmed by the options. Why did everything sound so... rich? I wasn’t even sure what half of it was. Feeling a bit self-conscious, I decided to play it safe and order a salad. Something light. Something that wouldn’t make me feel as exposed.

When the waiter came, I told him my choice, but Steve barely looked at me before raising an eyebrow. "A salad?" His tone wasn’t harsh, but it was enough to make me feel like I’d been caught out. He looked at me in that way only he could, like he knew exactly what I was thinking. "Come on, Kiwi, we’ve been active all day, you need more than lettuce."

Heat rushed to my cheeks, and I stared down at the menu again. "I’m not that hungry," I muttered.

But Steve didn’t buy my lie, instead, he chuckled. “That’s nonsense,” he said before turning to the waiter. “Bring us a full spread. We’ll have the curry, the grilled fish, and the flatbreads," he ordered, listing the dishes like he’d been eating them his whole life.

When the food arrived, it smelled amazing, plates full of fragrant curry, fresh fish, and buttery flatbreads covered the table. I hesitated, glancing at Steve, but he just smiled, his confidence unwavering. "Trust me, it’s good."

Everything was delicious. As we ate, the conversation flowed more easily than I expected. Steve told a few funny stories about himself and his friends, and before I knew it, I was laughing along, my nerves slipping away and we shared stories from university, and somewhere along the line, I realized I’d started eating without overthinking every bite.

For once, I wasn’t worrying about how I looked while I ate. I was just... enjoying myself. It felt almost normal. I took a sip of my drink and casually asked, "Whatever happened to Bucky? I remember you guys being inseparable."

Steve raised an eyebrow "Bucky? Yeah, we were… we are, he’s just... busy with some family stuff."

"Oh," I nodded, "I figured you guys would be on this trip together."

"Yeah, well," Steve leaned back, smirking a little, "life happens, you know? He’s laying low, sorting things out.”

I smiled, "That’s good. I always liked Bucky."

Steve’s grin widened, “Everyone likes Bucky.” He took another sip of his drink, the conversation flowing smoothly. “But don’t worry, he’ll be around next time.”

On our way back to the villa, Steve suddenly suggested taking a detour for a short hike up a nearby trail. At first, I wasn’t exactly thrilled. After the boat ride and lunch, the idea of hiking, especially in this heat, seemed like a bad idea. But Steve was insistent, and he gave me that look like he wasn’t taking no for an answer.

"Come on, it’s not that long of a hike," he said, flashing that easy smile of his. "The view’s incredible. Trust me."

I sighed but agreed, figuring it couldn’t hurt to check it out. The trail was steep in some parts, and I found myself struggling to keep up at times. Steve, however, moved with ease. Every now and then, he’d offer me his hand to help me over a rock or up a tricky slope, and I accepted it, feeling the warmth of his palm against mine. It was strange how he could be so patient and encouraging when I was sure he’d rather have someone who could keep up.

When we finally reached the top, I was glad I didn’t bail. The view was absolutely stunning. The sun was just beginning to dip in the sky, casting a golden glow over the island below. The ocean sparkled like something out of a painting, and for a brief moment, I forgot about everything. It was just me, Steve, and that view.

We stood there in silence for a while, both of us soaking in the scenery. Steve looked content, like he didn’t have a care in the world, while I felt a mixture of emotions. I still couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to his generosity than he let on, but in that moment, it was easy to forget my suspicions. The beauty of the island, the calmness, it was all too perfect.

Without really thinking about it, I blurted out, "You really think you could talk to your dad for me? About a job, I mean?"

Steve turned to me, clearly surprised by my sudden outburst. For a second, I regretted saying anything. But then he burst into a hearty laugh, the sound echoing off the cliffs around us.

"Sure," he said, still chuckling. "As soon as the trip’s over, I’ll have that conversation with him."

I blinked, stunned by how easily he agreed.

"Really?" I asked, feeling a relief.

"Of course," Steve replied, giving me a wink. "But to make sure I keep my promise, we should probably exchange numbers."

He pulled out his phone, and I fumbled for mine, still feeling a little shocked by how smoothly the day had gone. Maybe things really were starting to turn around for me. We swapped numbers, and as the sun dipped lower into the horizon, I couldn’t help but feel a tiny flicker of hope.

By the time we got back to the villa, I was surprised at how quickly the day had passed. The sun was already gone disappearing behind the horizon, exposing the stars and moon in the sky. I hadn’t expected to enjoy myself, not like this, but somehow, Steve made it easy. He didn’t push, didn’t make me feel out of place, just letting the day unfold.

We stepped inside, and the villa was eerily quiet. Everyone else was still dealing with the aftermath of last night’s drinking marathon. Sharon was nowhere to be found, most likely still knocked out in her room. I could hear some noise from Thor and Jane’s room, loud enough to know they were up and active clearly preoccupied with each other. Tony and Pepper’s room was dead silent, and there was no sign of Natasha and Bruce.

As Steve and I walked into the living area, Peter was sprawled out on the couch, casually watching TV like nothing was out of the ordinary. He looked up when we entered, gave us both a quick nod, but didn’t say a word about us being out together all day.

"Good trip?" Peter asked, his eyes flicking between Steve and me.

"It was great," Steve answered smoothly, sliding onto the couch next to him like this was the most normal thing in the world. "We hit up the market, went for a boat ride, you know, the usual tourist stuff."

I hesitated for a moment before sitting down on one of the chairs, feeling a bit awkward about how... normal everything seemed. Peter didn’t seem fazed at all. No questions, no snide comments. Just a casual conversation like nothing was out of the ordinary.

"Sounds fun," Peter said, turning his attention back to the TV. His tone was so neutral that I couldn’t tell if he was actually interested or just filling the silence.

Steve leaned back, stretching his arms along the back of the couch. "It was. Kiwi kept up just fine."

I glanced at Steve, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. I wasn’t sure if he was being genuine or just throwing in a compliment for good measure. Either way, I couldn’t shake the weird feeling that lingered from the day. Maybe I was overthinking everything, but something about how effortlessly he’d made me feel comfortable bothered me.

"We’re all heading to dinner later, right?" I asked, breaking the silence.

Peter gave a lazy nod. "Yeah. Once everyone’s awake, I guess."

I nodded back, standing up from the chair. "I’ll, uh, go get ready then."

As I made my way to my room, I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d misjudged Steve. He seemed so genuine today like he actually cared. But there was still that small voice in the back of my mind, whispering to run.

[chixkencxrry]

some of y’all shit be reading like character ai…not suspicious at all…

[naturalthrone22]

😭😭😭 how dare you hurt me like this?My sweet little omega…my heart is broken jaggedly. Why is Steve so mean to her she’s such a tender hearted little baby? Don’t mind me as I cry like a softie over here.

Steve is so possessive and I usually find that so hot but he’s straight up mean to her (me). Like he’s so fine and daddy for sure but if he toned it down then my heart wouldn’t hurt so bad. He’s so cruel for no reason and the sad thing is she would be everything he needed if he’d chill out a bit. The pictures to his friends?! So heartless! He confuses me like one minute he’s so possessive and controlling then the next he laughs at her like she’s nothing and showing his friends pictures if her like that?! You’ve killed my dark heart and I don’t know what to do. If he wants to possess her so bad then why does he show her off like that? Is it the pride of snatching her up?

Peter is such a sweetheart but he stands no chance against Steve. Like none unless he went to the authorities but Steve has money right? He could fight it and especially if he forces her to agree with him.

He scares me, one minute he’s a psycho and the next he’s joking. I can’t keep up with his mood swings. Neither can omega.

Sorry for rambling, I’m just so invested in this dynamic! You got me hooked and I can’t stop reading. It’s brilliant🖤

preying on you tonight part 2

part ii - hunt you down

Pairing: dark alpha!Steve Rogers x naive omega!Reader

Warnings: smut, dark themes, a/b/o themes, daddy!kink, noncon, dubcon, extreme dumbification, physical violence, somno, noncon filming and sharing of pictures without consent, dark!Steve Rogers, bullying, Steve is really mean in this, jealousy, breeding kink, size difference, unbalanced power dynamic, humiliation, seriously Steve is super mean, and reader is really naive, minors do not interact!

Summary: After falling prey to the biggest, most menacing alpha on campus, you find that Steve Rogers is nowhere near done with you. (This is a direct sequel to Preying on You Tonight.)

It’s the most pleasant and sating sleep you’ve had in a long time. You wake up with sunlight pouring over your exposed body, your sheets and blankets pushed to the side and a light sheen of sweat on your skin. It’s a warm morning – you know that before you’ve even opened your eyes. And your body feels relaxed, well-rested, muscles sore but it’s a good kind of sore.

Your eyes flutter open as the memories of last night come flooding back to you. Steve, so domineering and direct, the way he’d had his way with you, how you’d liked it. And Peter. Fuck. Poor Peter. You push the thought of your boyfriend (ex-boyfriend?) out of your head – it pains you too much to think of how embarrassed and hurt he must have felt.

Instead, you remember Steve’s words, soft and cajoling as they had lulled you to sleep the night before, trapped cosily in his muscular embrace under the covers: “I wasn’t lying when I said you’re mine, omega. From now on, it’s all me. Got it?”

Keep reading

[arpicityandneed]

My Turn

18+ f!reader. best friends steve and bucky. dirty talk. bisexual steve. bisexual bucky.

~

"Tell me again where you want it baby." Your new husband had you in his lap thumbing your clit while you rode him. Your thighs were shaking but you were desperate, tears of frustration on your pretty lashes as you balanced yourself with both hands on his shoulders.

"Inside, Stevie, please?" His hands were roaming over your body possessively, gripping the fat of your ass and thrusting his soaked cock up into you with every down stroke of yours.

"Don't make the sweet thing cry Stevie." Bucky groans as he palms himself through his slacks, waiting his turn for once in honor of your wedding night. Usually he and Steve would've flipped a coin or fought for who got to bully their way inside your pussy first.

"I'm not gonna Buck, she's just so pretty when she begs. My wife." Steve's baby blues were dancing with mischief as Bucky cursed.

"You met her first by accident, Rogers. I'm older-" Bucky started growling the same damn argument they'd been having since they decided they wanted a baby and therefore a wedding. (They were too old fashioned for anything else.)

"Boys, can we argue later?" You cut in breathlessly, and Steves arm wrapped around your waist. Your only warning before he took over- fucking you up and down his shaft like a rag doll as he groaned,

"Alright baby. I gotta do right by my Mrs don't I?" With the smuggest grin you'd ever seen his balls twitched, and spurt after spurt of cum filled you fluttering walls.

"Goddamnit, Stevie." You would've comforted your other boyfriend if you could focus. But Steve's thumb was rubbing your clit as you seized up, coming hard and milking his cock for all he had to give.

You collapsed against his chest.

"You gonna be good for Bucky baby? You got one more in you?" Steve murmured gently as he rocked you on his softening shaft, his cum leaking out of you and drenching his balls in your combined juices.

"Mhm. Want him inside too." You smiled as you kissed him, soft and sweet like you had several hours earlier in front of all your friends and family.

"My turn." You hadn't heard him move but you weren't surprised when you were lifted and bent over the massive bed, Bucky was hardly a patient man once he had the green light.

"Fuck sweetheart, you're dripping." Bucky's voice was hoarse. But Steve, who was laying down close enough for you to tongue at his soft cock, just snorted.

"Don't complain like you don't love it, jerk." Steve guided his shaft into your mouth and murmured softly, "Clean me up baby."

"'M not complaining punk, it's a compliment." You moaned around Steve as Bucky took one good lick of your stuffed pussy before straightening and dragging his cock head through the mess. "Your cum tastes better inside her by the way."

"Shut up, you love my cum anyway you can get it, Barnes."

"Maybe." One smooth thrust and you were full once more, and Bucky goes from teasing his boyfriend to cursing how good you feel. "I gotta say doll. You're kind of a slut."

"B-Bucky!" Your scolding would be more effective if your pussy didn't clench around him from his words and the memories flooding you brain of watching Bucky swallow down Steves cock.

"Greedy fucking pussy-" His moans were loud, shameless. "Back me up here Stevie."

"He's not wrong sweetie. Youre an absolute slut for us. But just us, yeah?" Steve sounds proud. Proud that on his wedding night his wife is being tag teamed by him and his best friend.

Fuck.

You were going to cum, hard and Bucky- the smug bastard- wasn't going to let it happen quietly.

"Someone likes being reminded how needy her pussy is. Clenching down so hard on me doll." Bucky fucked different than Steve. Harder, filthier. His hands were dragging you back onto his fat cock until the audible slap of his hips against your ass echoed around the room. He was getting close you could tell. His heavy balls were slapping against your clit, aching to add to the cum already slicking him inside you. "Should've waited till after the honeymoon to let me fuck her Steve."

His hand snaked around to find your clit and with quick tight circles over your swollen nub you came apart with a cry.

"Yeah, Buck? And why's that.." Steves eyes were narrowed like he was annoyed at being told what to do, but you knew the truth. His cock was growing hard in your mouth again. Bucky thrusted hard inside you before he started to unload, grinding into you as if to make sure his seed took first.

"Cause now we're never gonna know who knocked her up first till the baby's born."

[planetallure]

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ dark!fic recs

CW: once again, these works contain dark and explicit themes that may be upsetting or triggering to some. please use your discretion and discernment.

@cherienymphe : when i first seriously got back on tumblr and got into dark!fanfic, cherie's was one of the first blogs i found. her writing was essentially my indoctrination. it was terrifying how much i loved it/her writing. truly phenomenal. i've read quite of few of her stories (mainly for rafe cameron, jj maybank, steve rogers, and peter parker) but i'll list my faves.

"when the party's over" - its something about this series...i think about it often. if you're into forced pregnancy or corruption tropes, tap in.

"wicked games" - i actually first read this one on ao3 before i discovered her tumblr and was absolutely gagged. another one i think of often.

"amnesiac" - the first series of hers that i ever read. absolutely traumatized me and i sobbed reading it. amazing storytelling.

"the hills" - another bangerrr. a one night stand ends in complete and total blackmail and entrapment. he just wanted to give her a better life *clown face emoji*.

"his father's son" - after ward death, rafe takes over the reins in more ways than one.

"teenage dirtbag" - this series single handedly made me a jj girl. the tension??? yup yup mhm.

"the less i know the better" - ironically my favorite part of this story is readers relationship with rafe but seeing jj slowly and then rapidly descend into madness? yeah.

"claimed" - a/b/o dynamics. brought me back to my wattpad days. still eat it up.

"daddy dearest" - steve meets a single mom and decides to be not the stepdad, but the dad who stepped up.

i'll be honest, i was a non believer in dark!peter but: "she's with me", "one last time." "suburbia" and "basic training" made a believer outta me. hands. down.

@lambtotheslaughterr : it absolutely amazes me the things that come from her mind. the level of creativity and originality needs to be studied. oona, you are criminally underrated.

“rise” - the first series of hers that i read. arguably the best series i’ve read on here thus far. this is the first part to her “the day the world ended” universe and it completely blew me away. i couldn’t believe that something like it had come from some silly little boat show. just brilliant.

“when the bough breaks” - the first work of hers i read. this one for me was a heartbreaking slow burn story, but the smut…makes up for it. yes yes.

“i burn” - sex!addict reader x rafe cameron. need i say more? actually, i will. the smut and tension in this one towards the end? it was shameful how turned on i was.

“one way or another” - buckle up, grab a snack, and prepare for the ride of a lifetime. that’s it.

“something wicked this way comes” - a single mom trying to escape her past, except her past is rafe cameron. this was one very spooky scary la la.

"summit" - the second part to the tdtwe universe. its still brand new but its already feeling like another banger, i mean it's oona. tap in.

@harryspet : rae was also apart of my indoctrination and boy did she do what needed to be done. her perfectly curated moodboards alone did it for me. very mindful, very demure.

"homestead" - what can i say...i'm a sucker for pregnancy stories :( and this series was no exception. absolutely delectable. enjoy.

"well kept" - classic millionaire ceo x reader, my younger wp reading self cheered gleefully. my love language is acts of service and boyy was this one speaking my language. had me at "scheduled braiding appointment."

"bambi eyes" - this one was one of those that made me want to take a good long look in the mirror and ask myself, "is this who we are...is this what we represent?"

@sherrybaby14 : this one is for the mcu girlies. more fics than you could ever ask for. everyone say "thank you, mother!"

"the distraction" - i'm starting to notice a kidnapping/stockholm syndrome pattern here...ANYWAY! work is realllyy stressful for steve and you just happen to be the perfect distraction.

@straywords : she's no longer active but her incredible writings remain so please, peruse. its like a beautiful museum over there.

"a break" - *gasp* another pregnancy story! stucky edition.

@darkficsyouneveraskedfor : an icon, a legend, she is the moment! another infinite library for my mcu girls. roo has all you could ever want or ask for.

@perlelune

"all too well" - yes, yes, another one, its who i am. rafe cameron proving once again that you can't escape him.

"lucky" - best friend!rafe x reader. he didn't know what he had until it was almost gone

"tag, you're it" - never read a scream fanfic before this one but boy did i have fun! chad is so pookie in this too :(

@honestsycrets : back when i was in my miguel era, sy single handedly kept me fed.

"starved | mio" - "mio", in which you babysit mayday and it gives miguel baby fever and "starved", in which he made you a mom...but its left less time for other activities.

"stung" - sex pollen/abo. reader gets bitten by an anomaly causing a reaction that only miguel can cure

"amor y respeto" - he just can't love you the way you need to be. so you and miguel break up...at the worst possible time.

"exclusive" - you and miguel are fuckbuddies. you want more, but miguel can't bring himself to give it to you. so you find company in hobie, who's there for you in all the ways that you need. miguel's not happy about that.

"canary" - you're a singer in the 1920s who's fallen in with the dangerous o'hara brothers.

"grande" - sex!worker miguel x assistant!reader. think...a pepper x tony kinda dynamic. except, miguel doesn't take kindly to certain slights. :)

@starfxkrinc : last but certainly not least! moony is a ridiculously talented writer and a mutal of mine. i found her early on during my resurgence on here. this is her new side blog (rip lovesickbrat and starfxkr!!) luckily she was able to salvage a lot of her past works and is back like she never left. i recommend her "western nights" series (really just the trailer park!jj tag in general) and her "ode to eaters" au. a queen of all things taboo. she does it for the girls who are drawn to the dark and scary. the gross and weird. <3

[jesevans]

Dark Steve and a creepy Bucky? Cool.

Blind Offer 2

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, manipulation, 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: After a leak causes you to evacuate your apartment, your landlord offers a vacant unit that’s too good to be true. (short!plus!reader)

Character: Steve Rogers, additional characters to come

Note:  This is one of my Corrupt-A-Wish requests but I won’t reveal which one right away because it’ll be part of the plot!

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 &lt;3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you like I love turning intended one shots into series. Take care. 💖

You come out of work exhausted. The back to school crowd is still in full effect and infringing on your stocking time. Rather than pop your earbud in and lose yourself in barcodes and inventory counts, you more often found yourself searching out a salesman or running to the back to grab a device yourself.

You yawn into the crook of your elbow, feet carrying you out of routine rather than any coherent thought. There’s a flash of headlights as you pass a car idling along the pick up area and you slow down as you squint at the tinted windshield. The interior bulb flicks on and Steve leans forward, giving you a look through the glass as if you should be expecting him.

You slow down and approach the driver’s side as he rolls down the window. You lean in and give a sheepish smile, “uh, I…”

“Didn’t text?” He finishes your sentence, “I figured you were busy.”

“Oh, well, you didn’t–”

“Have to come get you. Yeah, I figured you’d say that again. Really, it’s kind of selfish on my part. Thinking of you waiting in the dark alone, it’s kind of my fault you even have to so I can at least give you a lift.”

“That’s… nice of you but tomorrow, I can catch a bus.”

“If you insist,” he shrugs, “I won’t twist your arm with my kindness.”

You laugh softly, unsure of his humour. It’s more akin to passive aggression. As if even thinking of passing up his offer is an insult. Wouldn’t it be worse to use him for free rides? You’re already getting to stay in a property well above your lease value.

“You gonna get in?” He prompts.

“Yeah, sure, sorry, I–”

“Hey, thanks for the help on that Lenovo,” Remo calls as he walks out the front doors, shooting you a three finger wave, “not bad for a warehouse jockey.”

“No problem. Have a good night,” you wave back.

You skirt around the hood of the car and grab the door handle. It snaps back and you wait until the locks clack back loudly. You get in and gently shut the door. You unreel the seat belt as Steve adjusts his rearview.

“You got a lot of friends at work?” He asks as he shifts gear, resting his toe lightly on the gas.

“Eh, I guess,” you lean your arm on the door, “busy day. Did a lot of running around.”

“Huh, yeah, maybe I should stop in tomorrow. Need some stuff for a few units. Got a security cam I need to replace and– you got appliances, don’t you?” He rambles over the steering wheel.

“Yeah, uh, I think. Mostly to order,” you rest your cheek against your knuckles and watch how you pass in and out of the yellow cones cast by streetlights. “I guess you’re still looking for a new washer then?”

“Well, they don’t make the same model anymore. Space is pretty compact which means I need something with the same dimensions. I’m shopping around,” He taps his fingers on the wheel, “I’ll figure it out.” 

You nod and give a hum. No use worrying too much about it. You only rent the place, it’s really not your problem to think about the washer. He did say it already had issues before you.

“So, how do you like the place?” He asks abruptly.

“Huh, oh, yeah, it’s very nice. Big,” you answer nervously.

“Yeah, that one’ll go for a lot. A few showings but no bites yet. Probably won’t get anything until I can get you back to your place, heh,” he says the last part casually as if it isn’t directly aimed at you.

“Mmm, um, then I hope you find a washer soon,” you pull your arm away from the door and sit back in the seat. “I hate to be in the way.”

“In the way? I’m the landlord, I knew what I was getting into,” he assures you lightly, though it does little to assuage your doubts. “Oh, and since you didn’t really get a chance, I got a few groceries and left them at the place. Just to get you by.”

“You– Oh, gosh, how much do I owe you?”

“Consider us even. You’ve been pretty cooperative with all this back and forth, I’m the one who owes you.”

“Well, I don’t mind paying for my food–”

“Really, sweetheart, do you always react so adversely to kindness?”

“What? I’m not– no.”

“I’m being nice. I can tell you, there’s not a lot of landlords out there like me. I actually enjoy helping my tenants…” he turns onto a dark street and you shiver. You’ve never been down this way but you don’t live on this side of town. “I always said, whatever you need, just ask.”

“Sure, um, thanks,” you murmur.

He turns back onto a lit avenue as a glint of light flickers over him and draws your eyes. You catch him peeking at you, his blue eye reflecting the flash before he can look back at the road ahead. You shiver and cross your arms. It didn’t seem like he was looking at your face.

“Fresh sheets on the bed too. Hope you don’t mind, I did a once over when you were gone. Just to make sure I didn’t miss anything. Quick vacuum and all that.”

“It’s your place,” you say, “I’ll be sure to leave it how I found it.”

He inhales, deep enough for you to hear, “I know. You’re not a troublemaker, are you?”

You swallow and furrow your brow at the dashboard. Again, it’s not just his words but his vague tone. You don’t understand the question.

“Good girl like you always pays her rent on time,” he praises, “I can tell you, that’s not always the case.”

You let out a breath, “oh, aha, yeah, well, scheduled payments… technology, right?”

“Mhmm,” he sucks his teeth and lets his arm rest on the console between the seats, ”it’s so easy to be lazy these days.”

🖤

Steve walks you up to the front door. Just in case you can’t get the code right, he claims. You get it on the first try and thank him. Again. He lingers, as if reluctant to leave you, as if he’s expecting to come inside with you. Almost as if you should invite him in.

You say good night and lock the door behind you. You take your time untying your black sneakers and hang your hoodie on the coat rack. When you dare to peek out the window, he’s only just striding down the path back to his car.

It’s slightly creepy but then you feel guilty, thinking maybe you were being rude not asking him in for a tea or something. You don’t know. This whole situation is awkward as hell.

You wander into the kitchen, your stomach growling from the measly microwave dinner you ate on your break. Steve’s ‘small shop’ is much more generous than you expect. Overdoing it seems to be a trait of his.

You read the side of the organic milk in the curved bottle. You know that it costs three times as much as your usual carton of skim. And the greek yogurt, definitely expensive. All brand names, none of the generic discount bin goodies you thrive on.

You let the fridge close as you take out the boxed butternut squash soup. Fancy, you think as you peruse the label. Gourmet, so it claims. You put some in a small pot and heat it up on the gas burner. As you do, you thumb through your phone, pacing around between stirring the thick orange puree.

You eat rich soup with a brioche bun from the market bag. You’re thankful now Steve didn’t ask for compensation, you’re not sure you could foot that bill. And to think, after him praising your timely payments, you would default on a grocery receipt.

You shut off the lights downstairs and flip on the sconce above the staircase and follow it up to the second floor. You come down the hall with a yawn, the bedroom door open and waiting for you. Your duffel is on the dresser where you left it.

You sift around for a loose tee shirt to sleep in and pull out your toiletry bag. You go into the bathroom and change before unzipping the pouch. You take out your cleanser and wash your face over the sink. You pause as you drop the bottle through the open mouth of the blush coloured bag, a fuchsia shape poking out from under your mouthwash.

You reach in and retrieve your bullet vibrator. What the hell? You definitely don’t remember packing that in your hasty evacuation. Besides, why would you put it in there? You shake your head and drop it back to the bottom. 

You pat your face dry and take out your tweezers, cleaning up your brows and a few vagrant hairs along your chin. You put them away then ply on your night cream, making a face at yourself as you brush your teeth. You flip the switch off and use the light on your phone to find your way to bed. 

You lay awake for almost an hour. You’ve never been good at sleeping in strange places. The house feels so empty it’s eerie. Your ears are pricked for any noise but there isn’t much. The walls are so thick, you don’t even hear the rustling of the tree that casts a shadow through the window or the chirp of crickets. Despite its luxury, the house is desolate.

Your eyelids start to itch and you feel your muscles ease. You start to drift down, a slow swirling descent that tingles in your sockets. That shell starts to encase you, little by little, paralysing you as it drags you down.

BANG!

It isn’t loud but sudden. The dull noise jars you up, chasing away the advance of your fatigue. You look around, heart beating wildly, searching for the source. It sounded close but you can’t be sure. It could’ve been all in your mind as you tiptoed the threshold of your unconscious.

You bounce to the edge of the bed and stand, wobbling through the dark until you find the switch by the door. The light shines out around you as you stop in the doorway, glancing trepidatiously towards the stairs. You near the top and turn on the next light, a cautious progress through the spacious house.

You go down each step, one at a time, and when you get to the bottom, you illuminate the entryway too, the front room, and finally the kitchen. There’s nothing there. You didn’t really expect to find anything. The noise felt much closer to the bedroom.

You return to the second floor, shutting off the lights along the way, and you peer down the hallway. You didn’t check up here. You pad along the soft runner rug and peek into the bathroom before you approach the closed door of the study.

You touch the handle and a zing of fear courses through you. You should just go back to bed. You don’t need to know.

You turn it and inch inside, snaking your other hand in to flick on the lights. The same. Nothing there. You shut the door and proceed to the second bedroom, the door is slightly ajar so you kick it open with your foot and let the light in the hallway pour in. Empty.

You’re imagining things. It’s being in this strange house. Whenever you stayed the night at your grandmother’s it was the same thing. If you weren’t awake, waiting for the creaks of the house to prove something sinister, you were trapped in shallow night terrors that felt too real.

You return to the bedroom. You don’t turn off the light right away. You grab your charger and plug in your phone, opening up the white noise app you never used. You scroll through the choices with their dreamy names; serenity, fantasy, rejuvenation…

Your thumb hovers over the start button as you hear something else. Muffled and hollow. You frown, you can’t tell if it’s real or your mind playing tricks. There’s such a surreal distant effect to the scream that you can’t be sure it’s not some stray cat yowling in the street. The silence that ensues feeds your doubt. You’re looking for peculiarities, that’s all.

You press play on the soothing wishing noises and set your phone on the night table. You get up to shut off the lights and quickly nestle into bed, pulling a pillow over your head to block out the room. You just need to make it through the first night.

🖤

The next day, you leave earlier than usual. The change in your bus route and prospect of a narrow transfer from one bus to the next, has you anxious. Before you leave, you double check that you have your bus pass and some spare change just in case. You hook your bag around your shoulder, the security system announcing your exit; ‘front door open’.

You pull the door shut and hit the lock icon on the pad. You test the handle to make sure it’s closed and for a moment, you’re disoriented as you hear the door unlock but it doesn’t budge. You frown and look up as a shadow emerges from the unit next to yours. It wasn’t your door.

A man with long brown hair poking out from under a ball cap turns to punch in his code before locking it. The pad flashes red confirming the door is secured. He scowls at the handle as he drops his arm straight, his hand balling to a fist as he mutters.

“Morning,” you greet, the typical squeaky greeting you give to your neighbours.

He winces and turns as he looks up at you. You must’ve surprised him. You give an apologetic wave and tight-lipped smile. His blue eyes shock you, bold but bright in his chiseled face. He tilts his head slightly before he spins without response and stalks away. You watch his broad shoulders as he marches across the street without looking.

Not the friendliest of neighbours but the first one you’ve encountered. It’s a little less offputting knowing you’re not the only one around. You let out a long breath and make your way down the paved pathway to the sidewalk. You peek back at the unit next door. The curtains are drawn and the place looks dark even at the peak of day.

You shrug it off. You should only be there for a couple more days. That’s it. That’s all you have to get through.

[bandsofmarv]

Mine to keep

Bucky can no longer hold in his jealous and possessive side and finally claims you.

TW- Heavy smut, bucky angst , jealousy, possessive behaviour. Kinda long.

Side note // I’m also take requests of any character / theme.

Bucky’s blood had been boiling all night. Steve, the perfect All-American golden boy, basking in your attention, your laugh lighting up every damn corner of the bar. And Steve wasn’t even trying—he never had to. But that didn’t make it easier to watch.

Bucky’s drink sat untouched as he leaned against the bar, his jaw tight and his metal fingers twitching with restraint. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, couldn’t stop the jealousy crawling up his spine every time you smiled at Steve.

When Steve finally stepped away to grab another round, Bucky didn’t hesitate. He pushed off the bar and cut through the crowd, his determined strides carrying him straight to you.

“Hey,” you greeted, your voice light and playful.

Bucky didn’t return the smile. His eyes were dark, fixed on yours as he crowded into your space. “Having fun?” His voice was a low growl, sending a shiver down your spine.

You tilted your head, confused by the tension radiating off him. “Uh, yeah? It’s been nice to catch up with everyone. Steve’s been—”

“Yeah, Steve’s been the life of the party,” Bucky interrupted, his voice tight.

Your brow furrowed. “Are you jealous?”

Bucky’s jaw flexed. “Damn right I am.” His metal hand curled into a fist against his thigh. “Watching him make you laugh like that? Watching you light up for him? You’re mine.”

The intensity in his voice sent a bolt of heat straight through you, your stomach flipping at the raw emotion behind his words. You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, Bucky leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear.

“Let’s go,” he growled.

————————————————————————

The second your apartment door shut behind you, Bucky had you pinned against it. His lips crashed onto yours, hungry and demanding, his metal hand gripping your hip to hold you in place.

“You’ve been driving me insane,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and rough. “Sitting there looking so goddamn perfect, laughing at his jokes like you don’t know you belong to me.”

“I—” Your protest was cut off as he kissed you again, his tongue sweeping into your mouth to claim you. His flesh hand slid down to your thigh, hitching it around his hip to grind his hard length against you.

“You’re mine,” he rasped, pulling back just enough to look you in the eyes. “Say it.”

“Yours,” you gasped, your voice trembling with need.

His lips curled into a dark smirk as he lifted you off the ground, carrying you to the bedroom. He laid you down on the bed, his hands already tugging at your clothes with a mix of urgency and reverence.

“Bucky,” you murmured, your breath hitching as his hands—both flesh and metal—explored your body, pulling away your layers one by one.

“Shh,” he whispered, pressing kisses to your bare skin as he worked. “I’ve got you. Just let me show you.”

When he finally had you naked beneath him, he sat back for a moment, his eyes raking over you with undisguised hunger. “Look at you,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “So fucking beautiful. All mine.”

He didn’t wait for a response. His mouth found your neck, his teeth grazing your pulse point before he kissed his way down your body. His lips and tongue left a trail of fire in their wake, his hands gripping your thighs to hold you open for him.

“Bucky,” you whimpered, your fingers tangling in his hair as he kissed the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

“I want to hear you,” he said, his voice dark and commanding. “I want everyone to know who’s making you feel this good.” And then his mouth was on you, his tongue sliding against your heat with practiced precision. You cried out, your hips bucking against him as he licked and sucked, his metal hand pinning you to the bed while his flesh hand teased your sensitive bundle of nerves.

The pressure built quickly, your body arching as his tongue drove you higher and higher. Just when you thought you couldn’t take any more, he slipped two fingers inside you, curling them to hit that perfect spot.

“Bucky!” you gasped, your body shattering around him as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

He didn’t stop, working you through your orgasm until you were trembling beneath him. Only then did he pull back, his lips glistening as he smirked down at you.

“You’re not done yet,” he said, his voice rough with need.

He stripped off his clothes, his muscular frame glinting in the low light of the room. His cock stood hard and ready, and your mouth watered at the sight of him.

He climbed over you, his hands bracketing your face as he kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his lips. “Turn over,” he ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument.

You obeyed, rolling onto your stomach as he positioned himself behind you. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you up onto your knees before he slid into you with one smooth thrust.

The stretch was perfect, and you moaned loudly, your hands fisting in the sheets as he set a punishing pace.

“You feel so good,” he groaned, his metal hand sliding up your back to grip the nape of your neck. “So tight, so perfect. All mine.”

“Yours,” you gasped, the word spilling from your lips like a prayer.

He leaned down, his chest pressing against your back as he whispered in your ear. “I’ll never let you forget it.”

His thrusts grew faster, deeper, his cock hitting that perfect spot with every stroke. Your pleasure built quickly, and you felt yourself spiraling toward another release.

“Come for me,” he growled, his teeth grazing your shoulder. “Let me feel you.”

The command sent you over the edge, your body clenching around him as your second orgasm tore through you. Bucky groaned, his grip tightening on your hips as he buried himself deep inside you, his own release following moments later.

You collapsed onto the bed together, your bodies slick with sweat and your breaths coming in ragged gasps. Bucky pulled you into his arms, his lips pressing soft kisses to your temple.

“You’re mine,” he murmured, his voice softer now but no less certain.

“Always,” you whispered, your heart full as you melted into his embrace.

[p3sephone]

Can’t run, can’t hide (Dark! Steve Rogers)

Summary: you try to get away from Steve, but things don't go as you expected.

Warnings: past abuse, past kidnapping, hints of torture and cutting, toxic relationship, delusion, forced affections, hints of victim blaming, future abuse implied. Please if you do not feel comfortable with dark themes, do not read. This character does not belong to me. Minors do NOT read. 

Note: it was meant to be a drabble. I've been on a pause for a very long time, any feedback is welcome. <3

You tried to grab as much as possible. You didn't have time to organize everything that passed through your hands inside the backpack, you just knew that you had to take the essentials. Even if you wanted to, you couldn't have put aside what you needed days before: he was always attentive to everything. Your every movement, look and word. You had to coordinate every little thing, try not to attract attention. After all, he paid attention to the details, which was why he had already discovered you the other five times. When he had decided to lock you up, you were ready to flee, you still had that fire inside that commanded you to do everything possible to get away. And you had tried, you had really tried, even to kill him. That didn't help either. None of the five attempts were really useful. He not only always managed to find out about your plans, but also understood when and how. It was as if no detail had ever really escaped him and he was playing with you, not you manipulating him. Then came the worst part, the punishments. Because of him you wore indelible scars, you tended to cover them with loose and comforting shirts, but you still had them on your skin. You no longer looked in the mirror, they were a constant reminder of how miserably your belief and being had been crushed by him. Then came the even worse part. You thought that corporal punishment was more than enough to make you obey and keep you calm, silent, but no. He needed something more, something of his times. He hurt you and every look from him made you live in fear, in the constant thought that you had done something wrong that would cost you another bruise on your body. Shortly after the punishments, you remembered that he didn't even give you time to hate him, to cry about yourself and how you couldn't escape once again. You remembered how he forced you to lie down with you, still with your wounds fresh with blood and your dirty clothes. It didn't matter what time it was or how you were dressed, but he had to show you his sick love. He forced you into his suffocating embrace and looked at you as if his life depended only on you, as if he really could have feelings for you. And then, he always said the same thing to you: “You know, I don't want this, I just want us to be happy. Don't make me do it again darling, okay? Tell me you're sorry." It was your undoing to get those words out of your mouth, and after five times, you gave up trying. But your mind couldn't adjust to that hell, you still remembered too well who you were before he kidnapped you, and you were a person with your own life, with control. You wanted those times back, before his attentive eyes could rest on your figure. With a shaky breath, you prayed that this was the right time. The backpack was completely full, filled with objects and memories that you needed to keep going. You didn't have the faintest idea of what to do, if you could go any further. Were you able to see the password of the system, the one that allows him to lock you up in four walls. It was sudden, your escape wasn't planned at all, but then you saw it. And all that context was too spontaneous, he was too furious and devastated to make it his proof. Steve was not a calculating person, he never was, and you paid for that too at your expense. From forced demonstrations of love to the good manners he demanded in all respects: those that have allowed you to become a more attentive and precise person, just to guarantee you the freedom that you already deserved. "Make it the right time, I beg you." You didn't actually talk to anyone, but you had to vent. You felt like you were freaking out and your hands were shaking as you hurried to the door. You knew well that the cameras were framing you, you knew that maybe Steve was watching you, but it wasn't of interest to you. He'd been on a mission for two days now, far too far to return quickly, even for him. You would have disappeared in time, or at least you hoped so as you stared for a few seconds at the camera pointing to the entrance. You entered the code into the code display and only realized you weren't breathing at all until you heard the door unlocking sound. It was open, you had it. Or maybe it was too soon? Maybe you were dreaming. You headed outside and started running. All around you you had only greenery, trees and no city signs. You were hopeful that there was something else nearby, but even if it wasn't, you vowed to kill yourself before you could even let Steve get his hands on you again. You knew this sixth time would cost you your sanity, it was your last chance. You ran for several minutes, then took a long break due to the little strength you had. You still walked for a long time, always aimlessly. You were exhausted and by now the sun was setting, but you didn't want to give up. You were going to move forward and continue down whatever path you were taking so that there was more distance between you and him. In hindsight, you would have defined yourself with one word: naïve. You knew your ride was over when it came upon you. Like he was waiting for you, but at the same time he had that look that told you he wasn't expecting it. You, on the other hand, felt your world falling apart. You didn't understand what you did wrong, what? “I didn't expect you to see the code, I'll give you that. But what I expected, even after all this time, was that I was stupid enough to think I wouldn't take precautions. Five times is a lot, too many, you know?” Steve spoke in a livid tone, and his eyes took on an even more glacial color. His arms were folded and he was several feet away from you, as if he were still holding back. Like he wants to give you a chance to redeem yourself and ask for forgiveness, like the good wife you should be to him. Instead, you chose to ask for the one thing that mattered to you. "How did you do?" it was a single broken voice, but Steve heard it. He sighed with a mix of surrender and exasperation, then leaned closer to you and looked at you like he was sorry. “You were already mine before I spoke to you. Today's technology is quite interesting, you know? I could have put you in a collar or something more humiliating like I was advised to keep an eye on you, but instead I just had a minor surgery done. It's under your skin, safe and where I know you can never get to remove it." That moment almost made your heart stop pounding. A chip? Did he know where I was all along? Your breaths began to become more and more labored and your vision filled with tears. The backpack, already quite heavy, became decidedly too much on your shoulders and you slipped it off. You too wanted to slip away, away from him and his pitying gaze. But you saw the patina under those blue eyes, he couldn't wait to teach you again what your responsibilities were at his side. And for the first time, you've never been terrified. Your broken voice began to be heard against your consent as you started to roll up the sleeves of your shirt. You started looking for any scars, anything that didn't relate to Steve's punishments. You started trying to scrape the skin off feeling the desperation coursing through your veins. He had taken everything from you, even the last shred of humanity. You were his property, you had nothing left. Steve approached with a concerned air, gripping your wrists tightly and stopping you from scratching the skin on your arms. “Stop it, it's okay, it's okay now. Let's go home and I'll take care of you baby, just listen to me-" "No!" you screamed furiously, trying with all the strength you had left in your body to move it. But moving Steve Rogers was a feat you could never have faced. You fought with everything you had, teeth, kicks, nails. Nothing worked, only Steve's gaze full of compassion, severity and so much disappointing love allowed you to keep fighting. Until even the physical forces left you and Steve managed to lift you up. “You've come a long way, you'll be tired and hungry. Today I'll cook, after dinner I'll still try to make you understand how lucky we are to be together. I'm lucky and happy, and I'm not going to throw that away just because you want your life back. That's over, no one is looking for you anymore, and now I've definitely shown you that you can't run away from me." He held you as if you were a bride, with such delicacy and devotion, but his gaze was simply sick. Because he believed every single thing that came out of his mouth and you knew that, sooner or later, the sixth detention would come.

[inevitablysomber-dark]

Under The Radar 6

Dark! Steve Roger x Kiwi! Reader

Dividers by @Strangergraphics

Warnings:

This story contains themes of emotional manipulation, power imbalance, dubious consent, toxic relationships, and psychological control. It deals with difficult subjects such as forced dependency and mental/emotional abuse. Reader discretion is advised.

Description: Kiwi thought she had her life under control—until a chance invitation to the Maldives from her former friend pulls her into a web of manipulation and control. What starts as a luxurious vacation turns into a slow descent into captivity as Steve, the wealthy man funding her escape from reality, begins to tighten his grip on her life. Now trapped in a toxic relationship where affection becomes control, Kiwi must navigate a world where every decision is made for her, every boundary crossed, and escape seems impossible.

Is it too late to reclaim her freedom, or will she succumb to the life Steve has crafted for her?

Story Masterlist

The weight of it all felt crushing as I sat in my small, dimly lit apartment. The furniture I’d once been so proud of now mocked me a reminder of how quickly everything can fall apart. The life I’d fought so hard to build, the independence I’d clung to, was crumbling right in front of my eyes.

Sitting at my kitchen table, I stared at my laptop, scrolling through the same job listings I’d seen a thousand times. Every option felt like a dead end. My heart raced each time I filled out another application, hoping this one might be different. But deep down, I knew better.

No matter how many resumes I sent, how many interviews I nailed, Steve had his boot on my neck, and it felt like he was pressing down harder every day. This was a long, drawn-out game for him, and I was trapped on the board with no way off.

Out of sheer desperation, I grabbed my phone and started dialing a few of the connections I’d made back when I worked for Rogers and Co. Maybe one of them could offer some advice, a lead, anything to help me claw my way out of this nightmare. But each call was met with awkward hesitations and thinly veiled excuses.

“Sorry, Kiwi. I wish I could help, but…we’re not hiring right now.”

“We’ll keep your resume on file, but, you know…the market’s really tight.”

It was painfully clear: no one wanted anything to do with me. Not with Steve Rogers involved.

"Just say sorry," Natasha said. She’d called to check on me, and with everything piling up, I ended up venting it all. And this was her big advice.

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” I replied, feeling the frustration build.

“It doesn’t matter,” she sighed. “Steve feels wronged. So, unless you want to go back to barely scraping by or, worse, moving back in with your parents, you’re going to go to him and apologize."

The weight of everything was crushing me. My savings were dwindling fast, and rent was looming. With no steady income, my anxiety was through the roof. I needed answers. I needed him.

So, I called Steve. Blocked. His work number? Blocked. I even tried reaching out to human resources. No one picked up. It was like I didn’t exist anymore.

With no other options left, I did the only thing I could think of, I went to his house.

By the time I got there, I was a wreck. My mind was a mess of emotions—desperation, anger, shame. I had no idea what I was going to say or how this would go, but I needed to see him. I needed to fix this.

The guard, Curtis, stepped in front of me just as I reached the gated mansion. “I’m sorry, Kiwi, you can’t come in.” Sympathy softened his eyes.

Not that long ago, he’d greet me with a big smile and a cheerful "good morning." Amazing how quickly things could change.

“Please, Curtis, I just need to talk to him,” I pleaded, my voice shaky.

He shook his head, unmoved. “You know I can’t let you in. You’ll need to leave.” His voice soft and regretful

Panic was clawing at my chest. I knew Steve had to be home by now. As long as he didn’t have any impromptu meetings, he should be here. I just needed to stall a little longer.

I continued to beg, keeping Curtis distracted when I saw Steve’s sleek black SUV pulling up to the gate. My breath hitched as the window rolled down.

“Steve! Please!” I rushed to his car, desperation leaking from every word. But then I froze when I saw a girl in the passenger seat. Small, delicate, and almost terrified.

Steve rolled down his window, sunglasses on, face completely unreadable. "This is Lemon," he said smoothly, like introducing her was the most natural thing in the world. "She's my new PA."

The world tilted beneath me. My replacement. Lemon. She looked at me with wide, uncertain eyes, like she didn’t know whether to be worried or sorry.

I couldn’t speak. All I could do was stare at her, then back at Steve. She was everything I wasn’t-thin, polished, perfect. Her nails were immaculate, her hair shiny and neat. I glanced down at the soft pooch of my belly, the wideness of my hips. I could feel every flaw like it was magnified under a spotlight.

The car inched forward, and just as Curtis started to pull me back, I whispered, “Please... I’ll do anything.”

Steve’s car came to a sudden stop. He turned to me, then, after what felt like an eternity, he told Curtis to let me go.

It took me a second to process what he’d said. He was letting me in. I scrambled into the backseat, heart pounding, unsure of what to expect.

Steve was calm, collected, as he spoke to Lemon about tomorrow’s schedule. He told her which meetings to cancel, which to reschedule, even what kind of coffee he wanted in the morning. I listened in disbelief. He’d never done this with me. I always had to guess what he wanted, figure things out on my own. But with Lemon? Everything was smooth. Easy.

I couldn’t help the sinking feeling that washed over me. I felt like I was being crushed under the weight of my own inadequacy.

The car stopped at in front of Steve’s mansion as a servant came to collect the keys from him. Lemon stepped out, her heels clicking against the pavement, and Steve followed, giving her a few more instructions before dismissing her. I watched them, feeling completely out of place.

Steve knocked on the window, signaling for me to get out. I scrambled out of the car, still trying to make sense of everything as I followed him up the grand staircase. My breath was shaky, my legs heavy, and with each step, it felt like the walls were closing in around me.

By the time we reached his home office, I was suffocating under the realization that I had just walked right back into his world, willingly. And this time, I wasn’t sure how I was going to make it out.

Steve moved around the room, his back to me, busy with something I couldn’t focus on. My mind was spinning, trapped in the loop of my own panic and anger, trying to think of my next move. What the hell am I doing here?

It wasn’t until he stopped and stood directly in front of me that I snapped back into the moment. Without thinking, without giving myself time to reconsider, I slapped him…hard.

The sting on my palm wasn’t nearly enough to calm the storm inside me. Before he could even react, I hit him again, this time pounding my fists against his chest, pushing with everything I had. But he didn’t budge. It was like hitting a brick wall. He just stood there, solid, unaffected.

“How could you do this to me?” I screamed, tears burning my eyes. “How could you ruin me like this?”

My fists kept slamming into him. I couldn’t stop. “I worked so hard! I wasted so much time, so much effort on you!” My voice cracked, spilling out every bit of frustration that had been boiling beneath the surface for months.

Eventually, the fight drained out of me, my hands falling limp against his chest. But the words kept coming, tumbling out as tears streamed down my face. “You knew, Steve. You knew my situation. You knew I was struggling, and you still choose to play with my livelihood like it’s some kind of fucking game.”

I was sobbing now, choking on the unfairness of it all. “I did everything right,” I whispered “and I’m still fucked.”

I looked up at him, my vision blurry from the tears, and the truth spilled out before I could stop it. “You ruined my fucking life.”

Another wave of rage surged through me, and I raised my hand to slap him again. But this time, he caught me. His grip was firm as he grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward one of the chairs in his office, forcing me to sit down.

Steve didn’t react to my outburst. He didn’t even look angry. Instead, he stood in front of me, calm and collected, like I hadn’t just tried to claw at him.

“This is life,” he said, his voice maddeningly leveled. “No one’s going to cater to you for free.”

I screamed back, “I was your employee! You were supposed to treat me with some decency!”

He shook his head, as if I didn’t get it. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

His hands slid into his pockets; his gaze fixed on me. It was then that I noticed the way he positioned himself, never quite lowering to my level, leaving me at eye-level with his crotch. My stomach churned with the realization.

"I'm attracted to you," Steve admitted, his voice calm and unsettling. "I've had a thing for you since university." He paused, letting the words sink in. "I convinced Sharon to invite you to the Maldives so I could see you again, to... reconnect." He smirked, as if the memory amused him. "And during the trip, I fell for you all over again. It’s always been you."

"Did Sharon know?" I asked.

"Of course she did. Sharon always knew. She was just keeping your spot warm until you were ready for it. But her ego eventually got in the way."

I stared at him, utterly dumbfounded. What kind of twisted logic was this?

"She tried her best to keep you from going on the trip, but I was always a step ahead."

"And when she got sick? Was that your plan too?"

"Just luck," he replied, a hint of satisfaction in his tone. "But it made it a hell of a lot easier to get close to you."

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, looking away, not sure what else to say. “I didn’t realize.”

Steve’s expression hardened, a flicker of something darker crossing his face. “Bullshit,” he spat. “You didn’t want to realize.”

I opened my mouth to argue but stopped myself. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered now. I was ruined, jobless, broke, and desperate.

“Please,” I began, my voice trembling, “if you won’t hire me back as your assistant, could you at least help me get hired at another department? Or, if you’re still interested in... dating me…maybe you could find me something elsewhere, another company maybe?”

Steve chuckled, the sound low and dark, making my skin crawl. He began to circle me slowly, touching my hair in the process. But when he spoke again, his voice was firm and cold. “Dating?” He laughed again, this time with more venom. “We’ll be doing a lot more than just dating.” He stopped in front of me, leaning down just slightly, and I could feel the weight of his presence pressing down on me.

“What do I get in return?” he begins in a low voice, then raises it, “Ungratefulness? Boundaries?!”

 I froze.

Steve’s eyes locked onto mine, his voice dropping into a whisper that chilled me to the bone. “I want you. And I don’t mind giving you a comfortable life. A life where you’ll never have to worry about money again. But if you want that, you’ll live under my thumb. You’ll have to be mine, in every way.”

My breath caught in my throat. I knew what he was offering, it was everything I thought I wanted at the cost of my freedom, my dignity. “It’s up to you.” He straightens his body slightly widening his stance “What do you want me to do?” I whispered. Silently accepting the offer.

I swallowed, my pride sinking into my chest. I had always been so careful, so determined to keep Steve at a distance, to not let him pull me into this world entirely. But now…

The room felt too small, the air too thick. My hands trembled as I clenched them into fists on her lap.

Steve just smirked and his eyes trailed downwards, I followed his line of sight. A sizeable bulge formed, struggling against the zipper of his slacks. I wanted to cry again, Steve probably sensing this “It’s ok, you’ll be able to handle it, you were able to before”

His words take me aback. "What’s that supposed to mean?" I ask.

“You don’t remember all the fun we had that last week in the Maldives? Or when we got back to my mansion?”

I try to recall, but it’s all a blur. Every memory from that time feels hazy; all I remember is feeling constantly nauseous and exhausted.

“What did you do?” I asked

He grins, as if he’s holding on to a secret.

“Welp, it doesn’t matter now.” He moves to unzip his pants freeing his cock from its constraints, and there it was. Solid, looking angry and red with thick veins bulging all over. “We have other matters to attend to.”

I start shaking my head frantically, trying to pull away, but Steve grips my shoulder to hold me still.

"Ah, ah," he says, tone firm. "We're way past that. And remember, things can only get worse from here on out. Don’t just think about yourself, consider your parents and everything they worked so hard for. I can drag this out for as long as I want"

My attention broke once his cock twitched in my face.

This was thrilling for him. Whether it was the idea of me submitting or the prospect of a twisted game of cat and mouse, it hit me…I would never be free of Steve Rogers. I looked up at him, eyes pleading, silently begging him to let me keep my dignity. But he didn’t care.

"I'm waiting," he says in a mocking tone, lifting my chin with his finger before resting his hands on his hips, clearly patronizing me.

I look up to the ceiling a moment trying to hold my tears back, before being forced to face his cock again.

With shaky hands, I went to grab his shaft, it felt so hot, burning almost.

“Go ahead.” He coaxed.

I drew my head closer, sticking out my tongue, this was actually happening. Steve wasn’t going to stop me, and I will forever be known as the woman who whored herself out for a fucking job. God only knows what they’d say, if Steve decided to make this a habit. ‘Oh, look it’s the girl who trades pussy for benefits,’.

My tongue made contact with the head, it felt warm, and his musk quickly invaded my senses.

Fuck it.

I just needed to get to the other side of this, and the best way to do it was to dive in it. I did my best to pull him into my mouth, but he was so big, and girthy. When I heard his moans, I started a game plan, building a rhythm I could get used to, so I wouldn’t be too uncomfortable.

But as always, Steve had to fuck that up. He immediately grabbed the back of my head and began swiftly pushing his cock in and out of my mouth. At first, he was gentle, or as gentle as one could be in this situation. Then he was forcing more of himself deeper, and before I knew it, his pubic region was pushing right up against my nose, hairs and all.

I couldn’t take it; I could feel my body preparing to vomit as I began to wretch. I frantically slapped at Steve’s thighs, to make him stop, but he just went harder. My spit started foaming around the areas where my mouth met his cock, dripping down my chin and falling onto my chest.

Tears pouring through my eyes as I begged for this to be over. Steve eventually did meet his climax, forcefully pushing my head into his crotch as he came down my throat, shivering from his climax. making it extremely difficult to breathe. I tried to push against him, but he was so much stronger.

Just as it felt like I was about to faint, he let go. I coughed and gagged, doing my best to compose myself despite the circumstances.

“That was your punishment” he made a grab for my chin, forcing me to look up at him. “Next time I won’t be so nice.”

He paused, looking deeply into my eyes, as I struggled for air, a breathless chuckle escaping from his lips “You look so fucking beautiful right now” the smile on his face looking so genuine. Then he pulled me into a deep kiss, his tongue invading my mouth. After what feels like several minutes, he finally separates from me.

“Get up, let’s go.”

He stands straight, and begins fixing his clothes, tucking in his shirt and zipping up his pants.

I find a tissue box on his desk and reach for, before I could pull out a sheet, his hand slaps my own away.

“No, I want you to stay like that for the rest of the day”

I try to protest, but then there’s a knock on the door. I’m unable to gather my thoughts before Bucky walks in, he stops looking between the two of us before smirking and greeting Steve.

"Hey, Kiwi, long time no see." He strolls over to the couch near the entrance and sits down. "Heard you had a great time in the Maldives, too bad I couldn’t make it." He grins, throwing me a wink as he settles in.

Lemon comes in behind him, and I’m just about ready to start crying again, I expected a look of judgment from her, but she seemed more apologetic, and a bit off kilter. Her clothes ragged, and though still shiny, her hair wasn’t as neat as I saw it earlier that day. Steve sits on the chair next to mine. Lemon and Bucky on the couch off to the side.

They start talking business, as I do my best to shrink into myself trying not to burst into tears from embarrassment.

I peeked up at the trio once more and as Steve and Bucky were speaking Lemon was looking right at me. No judgment, and for once, oddly enough, I felt understood.

That couldn’t be a good thing.

After Steve's meeting with Bucky, he gave me a subtle gesture to follow him. My legs felt heavy, but I couldn’t resist. I glanced at Lemon, who looked shaken, her eyes wide with the same fear I felt inside. That’s when it hit me: both of us were trapped. Steve had me, and Bucky had her. We were just pieces in their game.

I followed Steve down the hall, the sound of my footsteps echoing off the polished floors, my mind flashing back to the last time I was in his bedroom, after the Maldives trip. The memories of that night started creeping in, tightening my chest. I swallowed the fear as Steve led me to the bedroom.

Without saying a word, he started undressing, peeling off his shirt, then unbuckling his pants. Every movement made the panic in my chest rise, and my body stiffened. I was bracing for... something. Something I wasn’t ready for.

But then, he stopped. His pants halfway down, he looked at me with a strange expression, irritation lacing his voice. "What are you doing? You know where the bathroom is. Go and get cleaned up."

His command stunned me. I hadn’t expected the reprieve, but I took it. I turned and made my way to the bathroom, feeling the tension in my shoulders ease slightly. When I entered, I noticed a silk nighty hanging from the shower curtain rod. It was dark red with black lace trim. My fingers instinctively reached out to touch it, the fabric smooth and delicate under my fingertips. Next to the sink was a packaged toothbrush and new toothpaste…the exact brand I used at home.

I stared at it for a moment, my mind swirling with questions. How did he know? How long had he been preparing for this?

I shook myself out of my daze and focused on getting clean. The warm water from the shower helped ease some of the tension, but my thoughts were everywhere, wondering what would happen next.

As I scrubbed myself clean I heard the bathroom door open I scrubbed myself clean, brushed my teeth, and finally slipped into the nighty. The material clung to my skin, unfamiliar and intimate. I still had my underwear from earlier, but I couldn’t help but feel exposed, and a little gross.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, the room was dark. Steve was already in bed, his back turned, but his presence filled the space. I hesitated in the doorway, unsure what to do next. The weight of the night felt suffocating.

Apparently, I stood there too long because his voice cut through the darkness, annoyed and sharp. "Turn off the bathroom light and come to bed."

I flicked the switch, plunging the room into complete darkness, and carefully made my way to the bed. Sliding onto the mattress, I tried to stay on my side, giving him space. But before I could settle in, Steve shifted. He moved closer, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me toward him.

I was his little spoon.

His chest pressed against my back, his warmth radiating through the thin fabric of the nighty. His breath was slow and steady against my neck, but my own breathing became shallow, panic clawing at my insides. I could feel the weight of his arm holding me in place, his grip firm but not aggressive.

Still, it felt like a cage.

I tried to calm myself, counting my breaths, telling myself that this was just sleep. But every inch he moved, every time his body shifted closer, I felt the walls closing in. Panic started to set in again, and I didn’t know how to stop it.

As Steve closed the space between us, his body pressed firmly against mine, something felt off, too much skin, too much warmth. A sudden realization hit me like ice water down my spine.

"You’re not wearing any underwear," I said quietly, my voice betraying the unease building in my chest.

I felt his hand travel down to my pelvis, fingers brushing against the fabric of my underwear. There was a pause, and in a low, disappointed tone, he muttered, "And you are."

The words sent a chill through me, sharper than the night air. His disappointment felt like a judgment, hanging between us in the dark. My mind raced, but my body remained frozen, trapped in the tension of the moment.

“Take it off” he demands

At first, my body tensed, ready to fight back, a surge of defiance pushing through me. But a quick glance at my surroundings. the darkness of the room, the heaviness of Steve’s presence, and the knowledge of how trapped I really was.

So, I relented.

I moved to slip off my underwear, trying to keep my breaths steady, hoping the tremor in my hands wasn’t too obvious. Steve shifted slightly, pulling away just enough to give me space to do what he wanted, his silence suffocating as I removed the last piece of fabric that gave me any kind of security.

When I was done, he wasted no time. His arm wrapped around me once more, tighter than before, pulling me in like I was something he owned. His hand settled back on my pelvis, the warmth of his skin against mine, and I felt his breath hot against my ear as he whispered, "That’s better."

The words crawled under my skin, leaving me cold despite the heat of his body pressed against mine. I swallowed hard, forcing myself to lie still, my mind racing even though my body was now as motionless as his grip allowed.

He started moving, his hands roaming over my body, rubbing, groping, pulling at my skin like I was clay in his hands. He couldn’t seem to stay still, his movements growing more aggressive with each passing second. His fingers kneaded my hips, his palms pinched the soft flesh of my thighs, and his body ground into mine, the weight of him pressing me deeper into the mattress.

I could feel his breath quicken, hear the faint growl rumbling in his chest as he kissed down my ear to my neck, his lips hot and greedy against my skin. Every kiss, every touch, sent a wave of nausea rolling through me, but I was too overwhelmed to push him off.

The scent of him, clean, sharp, and suffocating was all I could breathe in, clouding my senses, making it hard to think straight. My body felt heavy, pinned beneath him as his weight shifted, trapping me further against the bed.

His growling became louder, more animalistic, as his lips moved lower, his hands grasping me tighter. I closed my eyes, willing myself to detach, to float above the moment even as his presence consumed every inch of me.

With a careful thrust he pushed his cock between the crease of my thighs, pushing against my pussy.

A sigh released from his chest as he stills. The space naturally damp due to my just getting out of the shower, alongside my plumper physique.

A few moments pass before he starts moving again, causing friction against my lower lips, occasionally rubbing up against my clit. As his movements become more frantic, he grabs of my breasts, and begins pinching and pulling at my nipples.

My own excitement begins to flourish as his movements speed up, and before I know it he stills as his warm liquid spills between my legs.

He takes some time to gather himself, and when I think he’s done, a hand is pulled off one of my breasts, traveling down to my pubis, and pressing his fingers against my clit. Carefully, he begins rolling my button between his fingers, whispering in my ear. “You feel so good” I feel him shift, pulling back slightly before I realize what’s happening. He pushes inside me, and a sharp squeal escapes my lips. Steve growls, his grip tightening around me, holding me firmly in place with no room for escape. Every thrust is deliberate, his body pressing harder into mine as his fingers find their way to my most sensitive spot.

The sensations hit me all at once, my body betraying me as the overwhelming pressure builds. I can’t hold back, and before I know it, I’m trembling, the wave of pleasure crashing over me as I reach my climax.

I rarely experience this feeling, so I keep still, trying to pull myself back from the edge of euphoria. My body was betraying me, and I could hear the wet, unmistakable sound of his movements filling the room. Steve suddenly stops, letting out a breath before chuckling softly.

He hugs me tightly, his body pressing firmly against mine as if nothing had just happened.

"Goodnight," he says, his voice low and satisfied, as though everything was perfectly normal.

I lay there, frozen, the weight of him pinning me in place, unsure if I’d ever truly wake from this.

I close my eyes, trying to make sense of everything, but my thoughts tangle like a knot I can't untie. The weight of the situation pressed down on me, suffocating, yet exhaustion finally won. As the darkness pulled me under, I could only hope that when I woke up, this would all turn out to be a nightmare, one that I was desperate to escape from, waiting for it to end. 

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

young ladies shouldn’t waltz with vampires

a/n: happy halloween!!! here's the fic you guys voted on and shaped a few weeks ago

polls for this fic: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

summary: “so, here’s the thing,” his ocean eyes then flickered in the same manner Steve’s had, mystically bending your mind to his will, “you’re gonna come with us, be ours to play with for the night. You can go home when the sun comes up, but without remembering the time we shared…” 

warnings: vampire!bucky barnes x innocent!reader x vampire!steve rogers, smut, dark content, dubcon/noncon, historical au (1840s), mind control/vampire compulsion, blood, biting, age gap, ball, dancing, polyamory, threesome, first kiss, kissing, loss of virginity, somno, cockwarming, dirty talk, size kink, pain kink, pussyjob, overstimulation, penetrative sex, anal, double penetration, unprotected sex

word count: 3511

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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“I have to admit, out of every rose here, you’re the most breathtaking.” 

Glancing up from the table before you, cluttered with crystal glasses brimming with refreshments, your eyes flickered to the man now standing beside you, his own piercing blue stare firmly directed at you and no one else in the buzzing ballroom. 

Your stunned lips parted slightly before the gentleman boldly spoke up again, “how come I’ve never seen you before?” 

Feeling your breath hitch, you managed to babble, “oh, it’s probably because this is my first time at a proper ball. I haven’t really previously been allowed to come stay at my family’s London estate and–, I’m sorry…” you swiftly stopped yourself, sensing the heat that had ridden in your cheeks, “I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this…”

“Well, lucky us that you got let out of your cage and the rest of us finally get to gaze upon your beauty,” he flashed you a dazzling smile before his eyes flickered to someone behind you, “if you’ll excuse me, I see someone I recognise, but would you perhaps grant me the pleasure of a dance a little later?” 

Averting your gaze, a smile tugged at your lips as you uttered, “you’d have to ask my brother.” 

“But I’m asking you,” he dipped down to catch your vision, “would you care to dance with me?” 

Blinking back at him, you couldn’t help but let out the truth.

“Y-yes.” 

As a smile swiftly tilted his lips, the gentleman then bowed slightly before you as he plucked up your gloved hand and pressed his lips to the back of it before disappearing into the merry crowd. 

Feeling slightly dizzy, you finally snatched up the drink you’d originally wandered to this corner of the chamber to fetch. 

Though as you granted yourself a small sip, fingers suddenly grasped your arm and yanked you deeper into a corner. 

“Sister!” you blinked up into your brother’s eyes as he’d evidently spotted you from across the ballroom and, judging by his tone, not approved of what he’d seen, “what in the world do you think you’re doing?”

Ripping your arm free, you furrowed your brows, “what are you talking about? I was just getting some punch.”

“No,” he hissed at a hushed volume, “why were you talking to him?”

A confused scoff then bubbled out past your lips, “I’ve talked to plenty of men at this party, with and without you at my side, so why is he any different?”

“Because, sister,” he leaned down a bit further, “he’s not a man. He’s one of them,” his eyes scanned your own before he spelled it out, “a vampire.” 

Though you’d never previously encountered one yourself, you still weren’t so naive to not be aware of the known influential status such creatures of the night had in the society you lived in. Them being in attendance at a fine ball was nothing compared to the other privileges they had achieved over the centuries. 

“Really?” you couldn’t help but glance back over your shoulder, though didn’t spot the bloodsucker again. 

“God,” your brother groaned quietly, “I know mother and papa have kept you rather sheltered compared to myself, but trust me, you have to stay away from them. They’re monsters, killing is in their nature,” with a hand on your cheek, he guided your gaze back to his, “promise me you won’t speak to one ever again.”

Blinking back at him, you then uttered sincerely, “I promise.”

“Good,” a visible weight then faded from his shoulders as he let go of you and straightened back up to his full height. 

As you stayed on the outskirts of the party, one of your fingers curved to trace the lines of the fine glass still clutched in your grasp. 

Soon your eyes flickered up from the liquid remaining in the goblet and landed on the other guests. Elegant crinoline gowns swooshed and swayed to the music emanating from the small string quartet in the corner, acting as a heartbeat for the lords and ladies of London as they danced the night away. 

“Well, as I live and breathe,” a voice then found not only your brother’s ears, but yours as well. 

Twisting slightly, you watched as a wide grin swiftly stretched your brother’s lips, “Thomas!” he spread his arms out for the redheaded man nearly within his reach. 

As they pulled each other into a tight hug, your brother’s friend chimed in his ear, “how you doing, old chap?” before withdrawing from the embrace, though still kept one palm fast on your sibling’s shoulder. 

“Not bad, not bad–, oh, Tommy,” your brother then suddenly glanced back at you, “this is my little sister,” gesturing betwixt you both, “sister, this is Thomas, we went to boarding school together.”

Extending a hand, you smiled politely, “it’s nice to meet you.”

“You too,” he shook your palm before casting his gaze back upon your chaperone, “would you mind if I stole your brother for a moment?”

“Uhm,” you glanced to your sibling before uttering, “no, of course not. Go, have fun, catch up.”

And before the pair slipped away, your brother leaned down to whisper in your ear, “be good till I get back,” to which you offered him a nod in return right before they both vanished from your sight and left you alone at the edge of the dance floor. 

Though as you slowly began to wander along the perimeter, your gaze once again affixed upon the sea of swaying pairs in the centre of the ballroom, your gentle stride then abruptly halted as a bulky figure shifted to pass you, though as the stranger attempted to, the two of you collided and the remainder of the drink in your hand splashed across his jacket.

You both froze as you slowly peeled your wide eyes up from the stain of your drink, that lightly dripped from his clothing, and instead flickered up to find the stare of the aristocrat you’d accidentally bumped into. 

“Oh god…” your heartbeat swiftly hammered in your ears, deafening out the elegant music that filled the chamber, “sir, I am so sorry, I-I wasn’t looking at where I was going and–”

“It’s alright,” he hastily put an end to your blubbering as he eyed the soaked patch, “it’ll dry,” he uttered, running a broad palm down over the wetness. Though as his gaze flickered back up to find yours, a slight smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he then said, “well, spilling your drink on me, the least you can do is offer me your name so that I know who to warn about to the people who actually are precious about their attire.”

“Lady Y/n Y/l/n,” you averted your gaze as your knees bent in a gentle curtsy, “delighted to make your acquaintance, even under the circumstances–, again, I am so incredibly sorry…”

“You’re a lady but with such lack of grace? Well, now I understand why you aren’t on the floor dancing with someone,” he jested in a teasing tone. 

The heat that had already crept up in your cheeks fiercely worsened, “I am a great dancer, I’ll have you know!”

“Oh really?” a smile dazzled his features, “I think I’ll have to see that to believe it,” he spoke as the current song came to an end and he extended a hand out to you, “shall we?”

For a moment, you let your glance flicker about the chamber in search of your brother, though when you couldn’t spot him, you found your own palm thinking for itself and gliding into the man’s standing tall before you. 

Once he’d led you out onto the floor, the palm he slid across your waist, and used to guide you a smidge closer to his own frame, caused a shy gasp to slip past your lips long before your feet began to shift below your poofy plum coloured gown. 

“Well, I guess you weren’t lying after all,” you soon heard him note after you’d danced for a minute, your movements having been nothing short of perfection since the very first step. 

Blinking up at the blonde man holding onto you tight, you finally asked, “what is your name, sir?”

“Lord Steven Rogers,” the title rolled off his tongue as his own gaze kept yours captive, “at your service, my lady.”

“Are you from here? You don’t sound it,” you commented on his accent, “but are you?”

“That’s a good question,” a slight tilt found his head, “London is one of my favourite places and I have spent many of my years here, but it’s not where I’m from, no.”

“So, you’ve travelled a lot?” you asked as he spun you an arm’s length away from himself. 

“You could say that…” he smirked as he twirled you back into his hold, “are you?”

“Am I what?” you found yourself slightly dizzy, though not from the dancing. 

“From London?”

“Well, my family does have a place here, but I haven’t spent much of my time in the city. At least not yet, I’m hoping I can begin to now that I’m grown, though to be quite frank, I have no idea where to start.”

“I could be your guide,” his offer caught you off guard, “it might have been a few years since I last called this city my home, but I still know it like the back of my hand.”

Mouth shyly agape, you simply blinked back at him a second before uttering, “perhaps if my brother came along as a chaperone.”

“I thought you said you were grown,” the tone he used to deliver his teasing seeped directly into your bones and made you thankful of his firm grip on you as the pair of you continued to sway to the music, “a girl asks for permission and can’t be trusted on her own, but a woman however, takes exactly what she desires and doesn’t let anyone or anything stand in her way…” his smouldering stare then briefly dipped before you heard him murmur, “so, what are you? A little girl or a woman?”

“I–…” you blinked back at him, struggling to navigate the exhilaratingly foreign situation you found yourself in. However, before you could stammer any further, the song came to a close and the surrounding couples parted ways. 

Though before you could take even one step back, his hand kept you close a moment longer as he dipped down for his breath to tickle the shell of your ear. 

“Meet me in the garden,” he whispered, causing even more goosebumps to erupt across your skin, “then you can give me your answer...” 

The cool night air kissed your cheeks as your glance flickered away from the candlelit terrace you’d abandoned only moments prior in order to stand beside the bushy mouth of the dark hedge maze further down the expanse of the estate’s garden. Faint music still found your ears as it echoed out the open windows of the grand manor where the ball still boomed. 

Then suddenly, as you were lost in your thoughts of disbelief at what you were doing, just before you could talk yourself into returning to the party, you felt your hand be grabbed before your eyes fluttered up to find the lord you’d been awaiting, his arrival haven been so sudden that it nearly caused you to jump straight out of your skin. 

Without a single word, Steve began to drag you into the maze, far away from any prying eyes and where the darkness could swallow you both whole.

“Where are you taking me–,” you attempted to ask, though as the man then abruptly stopped, what he did next stunned you to your very core. 

Pulling you close, closer than you’d ever been to any man before, he then pressed his lips to your own, sufficiently shutting you up before you could elaborate your question any further. 

The kiss was abrupt, fevered and entirely your first, leaving you dazed and reeling to catch up to the reality, to the dream you were finally expecting.

When Steve finally felt you relax into him, his feet began to shuffle and shift you back till your spine was pressed up against the denseness of the hedge behind you. 

But just as a shy whimper from you vibrated against his tongue and your fingers drifted up to whisper around his silky necktie, the snapping of a twig suddenly found your ears and caused you to jump away from your dance partner. 

Casting your glance over Steve’s broad shoulder, you spotted as the dark-haired gentleman, that your brother had so fiercely warmed you about, slithered out from the embrace of the shadows. 

“Oh, don’t stop on my account,” the man smirked, folding his arms across his wide chest as he continued to stare. 

Eyes wide, you then began to stammer, “Steve,” lightly patting your partner’s arm as he hadn’t yet shifted to protect you with an air of understanding, “h-he’s a–” 

“A vampire?” the aristocratic creature raised an eyebrow, “how about you take another look at the lord that just had his tongue down your throat.” 

Your panicked glare then fluttered back to Steve in front of you, however, before you could manage to push him away, his hands flew up to either side of your face and he dipped down to stare into your eyes with an intense you’d never witnessed before, somehow locking you up in his gaze as he then compelled you, “don’t scream,” and under the moonlight, you swore you saw his pupils briefly dilate as his wish slithered into your soul, “stay calm.” 

Continuing to cup your cheeks, Steve then kissed you once again. Even though his previous words had turned you completely docile in his hold, the sensation of his lips as they soon pecked away from your own, on a determined journey down over your jaw, caused you to melt away that much further.

The neckline of your deep purple gown was so wide that it exposed not only your shoulders, but also crept down scandalously low on your chest. 

Your eyes fluttered shut once more as his kisses tickled in their path down your neck, the sensation shooting straight down between your thighs. However, as soon as Steve’s lips were devouring the tender spot where the base of your throat blossomed into your shoulder, a sharp pain suddenly caused your eyes to snap back open as the vampire had sunk his teeth into you. 

You winced slightly as blood began to trickle free, your gaze locked with the other man’s as he took a step forward and closed the gap. Standing directly behind Steve, his hand then raised up to stroke your hair.

“So, here’s the thing,” his ocean eyes then flickered in the same manner Steve’s had, mystically bending your mind to his will, “you’re gonna come with us, be ours to play with for the night. You can go home when the sun comes up, but without remembering the time we shared…” 

Though you’d barely gotten to sleep an hour, you began to stir as the vampire sprawled out in front of your slumbering form kissed down your neck and swiftly sank his fangs into your shoulder. 

Wincing awake and still weak from the blood the two lords had already drained you off, your hiss soon faded into a mumble, “Buck…”

Tilting his chin back a bit, Bucky lapped up the crimson that trickled down from the bite before he whispered, “shh, you can just stay asleep…” and you noticed his hardness straining against you below the covers, “it’s okay, I don’t mind…”

You couldn’t fathom how the vampire still wasn’t satiated after everything that had happened that night, things a lady such as yourself had never dared to even imagine possible. Even now, you were still slotted in between the two naked men under the canopy of a bed in the grand estate they’d taken you to, your virgin blood still staining the sheets, or the little of it that they hadn’t lapped up for themselves to savour. 

Though the restless one before you had stirred you for another taste, Steve was still sleeping like a rock. He was laying directly behind you, his burly chest still pressed up against your spine as earlier, when he’d impulsively tried to stretch out your ass, made the decision to do something about that impossible tightness and have that little hole warm his intimidating girth while he slumbered. It made it difficult, to say the least, for rest to come to you as the sensation of his fat cock plugging you up was nearly too much for you to bear. 

“Oh, what is it?” Bucky chuckled lowly at the wince you let out as he began to nudge his dick against your puffy pussy, “are you sore?” he asked in a mocking tone, grinning wider as you nodded hazily in response, “but you like it, don’t you?” he torturously tapped the weight of his length against the creamy mess between your thighs, the sensation causing both your holes to throb and clench, making Steve’s cock still embedded deep within you seem that much more enormous, “you like it when it hurts, when the sting of pain mixes with pleasure…” he then caught your eye and compelled you, “tell me that you like it.”

“I like it,” you hear the desperate word flow out your lungs, “please don’t stop, please keep hurting me, keep biting me, drink every drop of my blood, use me however you wish, it all feels so good–, ah!” the pleas he’d made you utter were then cut off by a rippling moan as his bulbous tip suddenly caught your entrance and greedily slid back into your warmth. 

The fierce rhythm Bucky swiftly found rocked you so roughly that the movements didn’t just split your poor pussy open as he bucked up into you, but it also caused your frame to shift back against Steve and sink you down that much further on his cock, letting his heavy sack nuzzle tightly against your slick skin. 

As your whimpers filled the room and mingled with Bucky’s own grunts of pleasure, you felt the girth in your ass twitch and rapidly grow painfully hard before the arm the slumbering bloodsucker had slumped around your waist tightened as he stirred with a low rumble directly in your ear. 

“Mmm… having a little midnight snack, are we?” Steve groggily hummed from behind you as he nuzzled his nose into your tousled hair, “you know she’ll pass out soon if we keep drinking like this.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Bucky then slid his palm down the length of your arm, plucking up your hand till his lips ghosted against it. However, just as you let yourself hope that he’d just plant a peck upon your palm, his teeth instead pierced the flesh, right below your thumb. Although, the vampire did show some restraint as he only offered you a little nip before ripping your hand away from his mouth and holding it out for his partner to grasp, “here, you look parched,” blood already began to pool like a little puddle in your palm from how it slowly oozes out of the wound. 

Accepting the delicacy, Steve first dragged his silky tongue over the bite, before he let his fangs sink into you with a deep groan, the taste of you only making him harder. As he began to drink from your palm, his hips greedily began to rock, making you tremble between the two lords of the night from the dizzying manner they both now fucked you. 

As your moans filled the night air, Bucky’s fingers found your face in a caress before he leaned in to snuff out your sounds and let you taste the tangy iron of yourself on his tongue. Soon, his kisses began to dance down over the column of your neck, till his face was buried in your heaving tits, leaving a blossoming trail of hickeys to mark his path as he moved down to capture your nipple between his lips.  

“I know we usually only keep our dinner till the morning comes,” Bucky muttered as he nipped at your boobs, only pausing to briefly glance over your shoulder at the man behind you, “but there’s something different about this one, don’t you agree, Steve?” 

“She’s fucking delicious…” you heard him purr in your ear, “maybe you could be more than just a quick bite to eat…” both of their cocks continued to rock in harmony, filling your holes up to more than the brim, “maybe you can be our girl…” 

Sucking in a shaky breath, you tilted your head to catch both of their eyes, “for how long?” 

Keeping his neck tilted, Bucky blinked up at you and uttered, “…forever,” before he buried his teeth into the soft peak of your tit.

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[buck-star]

Never say “no” to your husband | Steve Rogers

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 -> Dark!Mob!Husband!Steve Rogers x Wife!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 -> You say “no” when Steve wants you to warm his cock in front of his men.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 -> 557

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 -> 18+, Minors DNI Smut, dark!Steve, mention of fingering, unprotected p in v, rough sex

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 -> 🧚🏻‍♀️✨Bippity boppity bow chicka wow oww! You’ve been visited by the Shameless Hoe Fairy, and now you must share a hoe drabble about: Dark!Steve Rogers + covering your mouth @stargazingfangirl18

𝐀/𝐍 -> Thank you for sending that Drabble idea. It was funny.

Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist

“Come on. Don’t be like that, honey.”

Steve groans and grasps your hand, stopping you from leaving the room while he turns you around. Your front crashes almost painfully against the hard wall in front of you. You hiss softly, and Steve pushes himself against you, holding you tight between the wall and his body. You can feel his tensing muscles against your back and the way his fingers dig into your skin.

“Stevie, pl-,” you whimper, but you get interrupted by his forward thrusting hips.

Steve's hand snaps to your face, covering your mouth before you can complain or beg even more. He knows that you would try to convince him to let go of you, but he won’t. He is desperate, and he wants you, your tight pussy. He owns his reward; he is the most popular mob boss, so he deserves to be treated like that. He thrusts his hips another time forward, his growing bulge pressing against your ass, and you whine against his hand.

“Told you to be good. Wanted to bury my dick inside of you earlier, but you made a scene. There were just a few of my men. You're a bad girl. You little slut, now I’m gonna fuck you,” he mumbles into your ear before he kisses down your neck.

Steve’s hand, which isn’t covering your mouth, removes your pants, freeing his cock. He moans loudly when he runs his thumb over the tip of his hard cock, smearing the pre-cum all over his dick, and gives himself a few strokes. Your husband loves to have you like that, begging for him to stop, maybe for his cock - depends on his mood. But now he just wants to fuck the attitude out of you, the way you said “no” to him when he told you to warm his dick. You didn’t want to, since he had a meeting with his men. Steve didn’t like to hear a no when it came to things he asked for. Not to mention that he always gets what he wants, as does his sweet little wife, who has to give him whatever he wants.

Steve’s hand lets go of his dick, sliding around your body until he reaches your pussy, moving them through your already wet folds. Steve chuckles, knowing your body exactly and how to touch you to make you drip like that. He rubs your clit, adding more pressure while he listens to the soft, muffled moans that leave your lips.

“Like that, don’t you? Such a pretty little slut for me.”

Before you can protest in any way, he shoves his dick inside of you. Your walls are stretching painfully, but your arousal makes it easy for him to slide balls deep inside of your tight pussy. Steve can’t get enough of it. Can’t get enough of you and your pretty little pussy.

“Don’t try to wiggle out of my grip. We both know you love that, love being fucked like that by your husband,” he groans, starting to thurst in a brutal pace inside of you.

His hand covers your mouth, your screams and moans muffled by it, while his dick stretches you like no one else could. And as much as you hate to admit it, he is able to fuck you whenever and wherever you want.

Taglist: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @nicoline1998enilocin @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @felicitylemon @cjand10 @casa-boiardi @cevansbaby-dove @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @bookishtheaterlover7 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf

[chixkencxrry]

Hello,

Just thought I'd reshare this -- as, with the advent of new Tumblr rules I have relabelled most of my work as "Mature" as to prevent them from being removed. As such, I know some work may not be visible anymore. Here's me boosting by reblogging the MASTERLIST -- which has no label.

Please keep in mind any person without age in bio, below 18, or with a blank profile seen liking or reblogging will be blocked for safety sake.

Masterlist

Do not copy, rewrite, translate or post my work anywhere. No permission given to copy, translate, rewrite or post any parts of my stories. 

IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 DO NOT READ MY NSFW STORIES.

(NB: All Readers are Fem! Black unless stated otherwise.)

The Witcher Fanfiction

Untitled - Geralt & Ciri father and daughter bonding over nightmares.

Child Surprise - Geralt, a surly bounty hunter, spends sometime with his new daughter. (Modern AU)

lost - Yennefer reflects on everything she’s lost.

kind - Geralt reflects on the kindness of the reader’s love in a tender moment.

The Hunted - You are the monster he’s come to kill.

Jaskier Smut

lucid - Dreams are unsuitable mistresses to reality. This you learn the hard way. (18+)

Chrysanthemums - It’s your first time and Jaskier intends on being your last. (18+)

tease - You’ve been an unrelenting tease for the entire day - but will Jaskier let you rule him? (18+)

one more for the road - You’re tired of not being a priority in Jaskier’s life and of his panromantic ways. (18+)

defender - You accidentally admit your feelings to Jaskier whilst defending him. (18+)

Avengers

Steve Rogers

tulips and victoria lilies - dark! steve rogers and reader have a date, but will they make it? part two (18+)

pomegranate seeds - (two parter) y/n goes out for a night of drinking against the wishes of her significant other, Steve. part two (18+)

poison - dark!steve rogers. a/b/o dynamics. You’re an unmated omega out on town one night. (A perfect time for an unsavory hero to strike.) You are also a semi-famous activist for omega rights. It’s a modern world where omega are not subjected to their hormones and the whims of random alphas who were not their mates. However, some people have a bit more traditional view. (18+)

Bucky Barnes

a+ - dark!bucky barnes is the supervisor for reader’s research course! but are his intentions purely academic? (18+)

the art of coping - bucky takes a class. soft! romantic one shot.

bath. - bucky returns home worn from a mission.

Loki

Give In - You have been hiding from him for the past six months, determined to not be shackled by his dangerously possessive nature you went through extreme lengths to sever ties with him – including breaking a piece of your soul. But Loki has only ever been determined to get what was owed to him. Dark! Loki x Fem! Reader (18+)

Miguel O’Hara 🕷️

oh, baby: Miguel was a mystery you’d only just begun to unravel. (SMUT, 18+)

mi tigre: A quiet weekend for Miguel and his lady. (SMUT, 18+)

[arpicityandneed]

How about a cockholding stucky x black reader

a/n: How about hell the fuck yeah

18+ black f!reader. Husband!Steve. Dom!Bucky. Bi!Steve. Bi!Bucky. Dirty talk. Creampie. Cuckolding.

"Care to share with the class, Rogers?" Bucky drawled before taking a sip of his beer.

"What do you mean Buck?" Steve traced the rim of his beer with his finger, desperately avoiding his best friends eyes. There was no way in hell he was sharing the thoughts running wild in his head.

"You've been staring at your beer for thirty minutes. This is supposed to be our guys night out without y/n. Come on, punk. Talk to me." Bucky could have charmed the birds from the trees if he wanted, and Steve feel his defenses crumbling when Bucky turned his sincere gaze towards him.

"It's nothing." Steve mumbled, his dick already perking up from the embarrassment of the situation. God why was he like this?

"And the sky is green. Bullshit. Alright, you leave me no choice." Bucky took out his phone, showing Steve the screen with your contact on it. "I'll just call your wife and ask her, she'll know."

"No! Please, fuck, alright I'll tell you but you gotta swear you won't laugh." Steve panicked, the last thing he needed was for you to find out what a perv he was.

"That's what I thought." Bucky smirked and settled back into his seat expectantly. "Well?"

"Do you know.. what cuckolding is?" Steve glanced around the bar and kept his voice low, noticing the way Bucky's eyes immediately darkened.

"Now what would goody two shoes Steven Grant Rogers know about that?" Bucky's voice grew deeper. He leaned in close enough that Steve could smell his colonge, spicy and warm and all man. Steve had to readjust himself under the table as he tried to continue, his erection straining in his pants.

"I can't stop thinking about it. I saw a video by accident and..." Steve couldn't finish the sentence but by the way Bucky whistled, low and appreciative his best friend could guess.

"By accident huh. What your fingers slip or something?" Steve flushed a pretty pink at being caught.

"Something like that.” Steve avoided Bucky’s gaze for a long moment.

“So you want someone to fuck y/n?” Bucky asked bluntly, letting Steve choke on his beer for a second before patting his back gently. “Come on Rogers, use your words.”

“…Not someone.” Steve knew his face would be red as a tomato so he kept staring into his beer like it had the answers to the universe.

“Who?” Bucky asked, a slow wicked smile spreading across his lips when Steve refused to answer. “Oh now that’s interesting.”

“She always looks at you anyway.” Steve chewed on his lower lip as he spoke low and quiet. “Plus, I think you’d make her feel good.”

“Steve, if you let me—” Bucky’s pupils were blown wide when Steve finally looked up. “I’d make her cum till she begged for a break.”

~

Steve was having a hard time staying on his feet watching Bucky cup your face in his hands and kiss you for the first time. He sat like a stone on the chair they’d brought into the bedroom, grunting as all the blood rushed to his dick from the sight alone.

“I think he likes it.” Bucky drawled with amusement as he pulled back, noting the hazy look in your eyes as you gazed up at him. “I think you like it too doll.”

“You sure know how to kiss, Buck. Ain’t that right baby?” You called over to your husband as Bucky brushed your braids aside so he could start nibbling on your neck, his hands roaming over your luscious curves so possessively it made you shiver.

“How would I know?” Steve blushed furiously, not realizing how obvious his crush on his best friend was.

“You’ll get your turn Rogers, patience.” Bucky promised as he looked over his shoulder at Steve. “But first I think you wanted a show, right?”

“Fuck yes. Please.” Steve nodded so fast and hard Bucky laughed, some of the awkwardness of the situation disappearing.

“You know your safewords don’t you baby?” Bucky asked you as he started stripping off your clothes, your rich tawny skin exposed one inch at a time. You nodded and Bucky’s hands couldn’t stop pawing at your ass, your tiny waist, even your tits when they bounced free.

“Beautiful.” He breathed as Steve watched the love of his life get manhandled. Steve’s cock wouldn’t stop leaking in his pants, the wet spot growing with each passing moment until he couldn’t resist taking out his shaft and squeezing the base to try and stave off the orgasm that threatened to overwhelm him. He didn’t want to cum until Bucky was balls deep inside you—and god just the thought made his balls ache.

“Flattery will get you everywhere Mr. Barnes.” You ducked your head shyly from the praise but could resist tugging at his shirt with a pout. “Now you, I want to see you.”

“As you command Mrs. Rogers.” Bucky grinned and started tearing off his own clothes hastily, dying to get his hands on you. The second he was fully naked and Steve saw his cock the blond whimpered.

Bucky was fucking hung.

Thicker than Steve’s own cock and with heavy balls Steve knew would knock you up if given half the chance.

“C’mere big boy.” You murmured as you reached out to pull Bucky closer. This time when you kissed you felt his leaking tip pressing into your belly, making your cunt throb with need.

“I’m not gonna last if you keep teasing me.” Steve tried to sound stern but considering he whined the words, neither of you took him very seriously.

Bucky merely gave your ass a squeeze and ordered softly, “Bed. Now.”

Then he turned to Steve and walked over confidently, stopping just shy of shoving his dick in his best friends face.

“You’re going to watch, and you’re not going to cum without permission because that would make you a bad boy. You don’t want to be bad do you Stevie?” Bucky asked quietly, his control over the both of you ironclad without him ever needing to raise his voice.

“No, Buck. Sir. Fuck.” Steve wasn’t even looking at Bucky, not really. He was staring at his cock with shameless longing.

“If you’re a good boy I’ll let you eat my cum out of her. Deal?” Bucky smirked when Steve merely licked his lips. “I need an answer here, Rogers.”

“Yes, yes, I’ll be good. Promise.” Steve blinked like he was waking up from being hypnotized and just for that Bucky decided he’d have Steve on his knees for him after he was done with you.

“Good boy.”

~

Steve had made a deal with the devil.

How was he not supposed to cum when you were getting pounded into the mattress? Bucky had you on your stomach, prone boned until your eyes crossed from how deep he was inside your dripping pussy.

And he wouldn’t shut the fuck up.

“Best fucking pussy I ever fucked, goddamnit Stevie isn’t fucking you right—” Steve whimpered at that. “No way he’s giving you enough dick if you’re still this tight.”

“He,” you hiccuped, tears on your lashes from cumming so many times until the pleasure was almost painful, “He tries!” you cried and Steve’s tip leaked pre all over his fist as he squeezed as hard as he could.

“Not, fucking, good, enough.” Every balls deep thrust squelched its way through your creamy folds, and Bucky loved watching your ass jiggle every time his hips slapped against it.

“I’m gonna have to bend you over more often baby, gotta give you all the dick your hungry little pussy needs.” Bucky groaned as he got close after an hour of just reveling in how your pussy felt wrapped around him. His stamina and control put Steve to shame without even trying.

“Please…” Steve whined as he watched, his pretty baby blues glossed over and his whole face and chest covered in the pinkest blush.

“Need to cum, cuck?” Bucky got a little mean when he realized how much Steve liked being embarrassed.

“Yes, please, please—” Steve begged shamelessly as he tugged at his balls.

“Come here then, paint her face and tell her how much you like seeing her get fucked.” Bucky purred the words and growled when your pussy clenched around him. “You like that huh? Dirty girl.”

Steve scrambled to his feet and made it over to the bed in record time, jacking his cock furiously over you as you looked up at him so trustingly.

“You’re so -fuck- so fucking pretty baby. Taking his cock like you were born to.” Steve groaned as he came within seconds, unable to hold back any longer. But seeing your beautiful face and plush lips covered in his cum, the pearly liquid reflecting off your darker skin made him hard all over again.

“Good boys get rewarded, Stevie. And I gotta big reward for you.” Bucky fucked you harder as he started to cum, slamming his hips into yours so his cum was tucked safe and sound in the depths of your pussy. His load was thick and hot and overwhelming as it made its was into you. When he finally pulled out your pussy couldn’t hold it all in, leaking onto the sheets as your hole clenched on air.

Bucky leaned back on his heels for a second, enjoying the view, before he grinned at Steve.

“Come on cuck, come get your snack.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Down Home 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 non/dubcon, 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: The world's most famous heroes walk into a small town diner and change your life.

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

Note: Because of this.

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 to Jupiter and back. Take care. 💖

It’s a slow day. Every day is slow out in Tumble Down. The township’s name tells the whole story. Everything there is in decline. It’s hard to imagine there was ever a time when the people weren’t tiny and forgotten in the hubbub of the bigger world. Since the mines closed and the canning factory was outsourced, it feels even smaller. 

Smaller isn’t so bad. It’s simpler. You all know each other’s names and faces. You say hi and how are you and do what needs to be done. Simple is, simple as. 

You here there isn’t much to do in most small towns. Not for fun or for work. You’re one of the lucky ones. You got a job down at the diner in your sophomore year. It helped pay for your daddy’s new engine and since then, it keeps you all afloat in the rising waters of disparity as they close in on Tumble Down. 

You hum to the old radio that sits on the shelf you make sure to dust. The speakers crackle from time to time and the signal gets wonky in storm season, but the music’s never bad. It’s the classic stuff that always played in your mother’s kitchen. 

You wipe down another table. Not because it needs it, just because it’s something to do. The day has been long and listless. Even the breakfast rush was lower than usual. 

Darnell, the cook, whistles along from the back. Everyone knows he isn’t as mean as he looks. He just likes his space. 

As you go back to the counter and lean on it, staring at the ticking clock, a roar cuts through the distance. You blink and look up, narrowing your eyes at the dusty country road outside. Wind rustles through the tall wheat in the field opposite and the noise rumbles closer and closer. 

A man pulls in a motorbike. He’s going so fast that he has to circle the gravel lot before he can slow down. It’s not Lenny and his prized Harley but another man on a more modern-looking mount. Not far behind, another motorcycle zips through and the riders straddle their bikes as the survey the restaurant. 

You narrow your eyes. You probably need glasses but you make do. The last time you got your eyes checked, you didn’t have enough for the frames. 

The one man wears blue and red, an odd helmet on his head. Not a helmet at all but a sort of mask. The other man has dark hair to his chin and a beard to match. He’s all in black but his left arm shines with gold ripples. Not a sleeve, an arm, made of metal. 

“Oh my lord,” you murmur in shock, “Darnell!” You holler over your shoulder, “you’re not gonna believe this.” You turn to the window as he pokes his head around, “not sure I do myself. Tell me my eyes aren’t lyin’.” 

He looks above your head, an easy task for the mammoth cook. He hums and swirls around his spatula. “Thems those boys on the news. The one that was in the old war. Grandad’s battle.” 

“I’m not going crazy with boredom?” You bubble. 

He snorts. It’s as close to a laugh as you get from him. You spin back and hurry around the counter to grab a pair of menus. Still, you don’t want to seem too eager. You put down the menus and fiddle with a napkin holder instead. 

The bell over the door jingles and swipe up the menus and turn. You really can’t believe it’s them. Yet, as Captain America removes his cowl, you’re certain. They look just like they do on the TV. Even with your sight, you can tell. 

“Hello, fellas, how are you doin’ today?” 

The dark-haired one, the Winter Soldier, glances at the other, his cheek dimpling, “well... we’re... uh...” 

“We’re doing great,” Steve Rogers answers brightly. “Starving. You guys serve bacon? My buddy’s dying for some.” 

“Um, yes, sirs, yes. Can I sit ya down?” You ask, hugging the menus closer. 

“Please,” the Captain accepts as the other man stays silent and pensive, his eyes wandering down to the coffee stain on your apron. 

“Just here,” you sweep away and wave them on with you. You stop beside the nicest booth and lay down a menu on each side, “have a seat.” 

They do just as you bid. The blond puts his cowl on the table and unhooks the shield from his back to lay on the far end of the seat. He smooths back the sweaty strands of hair as his companion stretches his metal fingers. You sway nervously by the table, twitching as you remind yourself how to do your job. 

“Well, can I get ya started with coffee? You look beat from the road.” You beam with the smile Mr. Welk says could outshine the sun. 

“Not just the road,” the dark-haired one mutters as he rolls his shoulder. The one that connects to his real arm. “I’ll take one, please.” 

“Can I get an orange juice, please,” the Captain asks. 

“Course ya can. I’ll be right back. You have a look at the specials and give it a think,” you bounce and spin around. 

You go to pour the orange juice and a cup of black coffee. Darnell lingers by the window. He only ever really appears to put a plate up but he watches the new arrivals. 

You bring their drinks and step back, clasping your hands behind you. 

“Did ya need cream or sugar for your coffee, sir?” You ask. 

“Black’s fine,” he assures. 

“No need for the sirs. Steve, Bucky,” Captain America insists, “we’re off duty.” 

“Right, sorry about that, ssss...Steve,” you correct yourself. “You need some more time?” 

“Think I’m decided,” Bucky intones, “what about you?” 

“Set,” Steve confirms, “I’ll have the sunny side up with toast and sausage. Can I get some fruit on the side as well, please?” 

He hands over the menu and you take it as you hold your smile. Your cheeks ache. Not because you have to force it but because you can’t stop. This is the most exciting thing to happen in Tumble Down ever. If Darnell wasn’t there, no one would believe you. 

“Overeasy, bacon, extra bacon too, and some french toast, and uh... home fries.” Bucky offers up the second menu, “please and thank you.” 

“Alrighty,” you preen, “I’ll put your order in.” 

“Got it,” Darnell growls over the empty diner. 

“He’s got good hearing,” you giggle nervously as you look between the men. “Ummmm, sorry, I’ll leave ya be.” 

“You’re not bothering,” Steve assures. “I can see you’re dying to ask.” 

He gives a gentle smile. 

“Nah, oh, gosh. I’m sure ya get it all the time. I don’t wanna be one of those,” you put your hands up. “Really, you all look like you could use the peace and quiet.” 

“Well, actually, I’ve been stuck with this meathead for days,” Bucky scoffs, “so please, I’d love to hear someone else’s voice.” 

You laugh again. They’re funnier than you expect. They always look so serious on the TV. 

“What... what are y’all doing here in Tumble Down? It’s a bit far from... anywhere.” You ask sheepishly. 

“Tumble Down? Is that what it’s called?” Steve scratches his neck above his stained collar. “Well, we couldn’t get a signal so we’ve just been riding through. Saw the sign down the way and figured we’d get a bite.” 

“He’s lying. He was falling asleep on his bike,” Bucky teases. 

“Sure,” Steve shakes his head. “Only ‘cause I’m tired of you.” 

You giggle again, “I thought y’all were friends.” 

“Friends, partners, cursed with each other, have your pick,” Bucky snorts. 

“He’s playing,” Steve says. “Look, we’re boring. Despite what you think. We’re a couple of old men bickering with each other. What about you? What about Tumble Down?” 

“Ah, nothing really, sir. Steve,” you squeeze the menus tight at the edges. “Nothing going on since the coal law and that. Everyone’s all but run out. All but us.” 

“Just you? Your family?” Steve wonders. 

“Jesus, Steve, nosy much?” Bucky says over the brim of his mug. 

“Sorry. He’s right. Like I said. Crotchety old man. I talk to the pigeons.” 

You laugh again, “oh my, you are a hoot!” You slap your thigh emphatically, “I’m still my ma and pa. It’s just the three of us. They need help with the animals and that.” 

“Animals?” Steve wonders, his posture shifting towards you. 

“Chickens, cows. They got a farm. Was my grandpa’s. And his ma kept it going after he didn’t come home from... well, you’d know more about that time than me, I think.” You give a forlorn look to the floor. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry about your grandfather. Great grandfather,” he corrects himself. 

“Lotta good men gone,” Bucky mulls grimly. 

“Yeah, my great granny said as much. I wouldn’t know though, but I heard the stories,” you dare to look at them again. “Sorry to bring up the bad memories.” 

“Nah,” Bucky waves you off casually. “I got this nifty arm outta it.” 

“And I got a shield so, you know, not all losses,” Steve chuckles. 

“I s’pose,” you agree. “I’m gonna check on that food for ya. You good with your coffee?” 

Bucky raises the mug, “delicious.” 

You nod and turn with a swish of your skirt. You go up to the window and look over the ledge. “How’s it going, Darnell?” 

“Going. I’m happy it ain’t Raylene here. She’s got a mouth on her, don’t she? Them sort don’t deserve that trouble,” he tisks. 

“They’re nice. And Raylene is too. She’s just... Raylene,” you say, “can I help with anything?” 

“I don’t wanna be rude but I’m tired of tellin’ ya to stay outta my kitchen. You know the grill likes to spit,” he shakes his head. “You go, I’ll let ya know when it’s ready.” 

“Alright,” you back away and turn back. 

Steve and Bucky lean over the table, their voices low as they chat. As you move around behind the counter, they both sit up and the former clears his throat. You smile as you take the cloth from your apron pocket and wipe the already clean counter. 

As the radio buzzes, you hum without thinking. Stevie Ray Vaughan’s smoky voice mingles with the emotion plucked through electric strings. Your dad’s a big fan. He has old tapes with concerts on them and even went to one himself. 

The bell rings and you nearly jump out of your shoes. You turn and scoop up the plates as you thank Darnell. He grumbles that he’s going out to have a smoke; his code for having a Tootsie Pop by the backdoor. 

You bring the meals over to the table and set them down before the men. Their gazes make you sweat. It’s all a little more intense with no one else there. 

“Thank you,” Steve says and Bucky echoes him. 

“Not at all. Anything else? Water? Ketchup?” 

“It all looks great as is,” Steve says, “you got a nice voice.” 

“Oh, really? Ha, I was just humming out of tune. Sorry if I was too loud.” 

“Not at all,” Bucky picks up his fork as he leans forward. He tilts his head. “You know this one?” 

“Sure do. It’s Fleetwood Mac,” you answer. “One my all times.” 

He grins and nods as he looks at Steve. Steve watches you with a smile of his own. 

“Do you sing?” He asks. 

“Me? Only in my shower or to the chickens. They usually hide in the henhouse then.” You tinkle with laughter. 

“Ah,” Steve nods. 

“But if... if ya really wanna suffer, I could try it,” you smile, “but uh, you know, Stevie Nicks, she’s one of a kind.” 

“I’ve had worse,” Steve says. 

You look between him and Bucky. You chew your lip and think. You follow the song as you try to recognise which verse it is. You squint and perk up as you catch your place. 

“You just let me know when you’ve had enough,” you say before you start. Not only can you tell your pa that you met the super soldiers, you can tell him you sang for them. It’ll be a nice bit of excitement for the dinner table.