#dark steve rogers x female reader

[saiyanprincessswanie]

Mine - Part 5

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Word Count: 4235

Chapter Summary: Steve struggles with trust issues until a friendly face stops by. He knows he has to start somewhere so why not something that will mean everything to you? Steve and you discover that you will soon be having a child together. Will this news break you down or will it give you the future you always wanted?

Chapter Warnings: Some angst, fluff moments, learning to trust, smut, fingering, brief hand job, multiple orgasms, Stockholm Syndrome & pregnancy kink.

A/N: This chapter isn’t dark like the other ones. This is the final chapter but there will be an epilogue later on.

A/N 2: header by @fictional-affairs and thank you to my beta reader @lfnr-blog-blog-blog

To catch up on the series read here: Mine - Series Masterlist

Reblogs & Comments are welcomed and encouraged. Even if you leave an emoji you will make my day. 😊💜

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It’s been a week since you both decided to start over again. Building trust was important to both of you and being honest, whether one wanted to hear the truth or not, was just as important. You and Steve were able to start this unconventional relationship by talking about anything and everything.

Of course, Steve wanted to talk about your future and what you both wanted or saw in the next five years. His answer was simple: he wanted to be married and have kids. He wanted everything he had ever dreamt of and he saw that future with you.

Yours you hesitated on at first. Yes, you wanted to get married in a small intimate wedding and eventually wanted to start a family. You also desired a little freedom to be able to do all of this one day as you wanted to shed the rocky start you both had. It was important to also be able to get your super soldier strength back as you wanted to feel normal again and not this frail human being he reduced you to. Steve told you he would think about that one and that you needed to earn it.

The sex was also amazing between the two of you. It was as if you were a newly married couple on their honeymoon as many times as you did it throughout the day. The pleasure you would pull out of one another drove the cravings to new heights. This had to be the highlight of your days spent with him. However, you did worry about the lack of birth control not being used.

Though as amazing as that was, a part of you deep down inside still felt trapped and wanted to escape. The other part argued that you have one of the best setups in your life and you could finally be with the one man you always had feelings for. You had the house you wanted, the man you wanted, and this could be the life you always dreamt of. Maybe it didn’t start like you thought but you deserved to have this dream come true even if Steve was still controlling and watching you like a hawk at every moment.

Your days seem to become repetitive as well and that starts weighing you down. Something was missing in your life and you knew just what it was, friends. You missed hanging out with Natasha. You missed the gossip, the laughs, and especially the training with her. Is this something that Steve would allow you to have again? This was a conversation you will need to have with him.

For now, you stayed curled up on the couch reading your favorite book while Steve was on the phone with Tony just outside the door. He watched you with curious eyes, making sure you didn’t run like you had in the past. Though he told himself this was a new start and he had to learn to trust you to do the right thing. The call wasn’t long and it was mainly catching up. Steve also placed an order for food and supplies they would need for the month. Steve was sure to give a list of things you asked for that would make your stay comfortable. When he was done he hung up the phone and walked into the house.

You looked up from your book and met his deep blue eyes. You couldn’t help but smile at the man you loved. Patting the seat on the couch next to you, Steve took the hint and sat down. Your hand held his momentarily as he got comfy next to you. Taking a breath you worked up the courage to ask him a question.

“Steve, what would you say to me reaching out to Natasha? I mean she was my best friend after all and I miss her dearly. I miss the talks with her and the support she gave me. I need to have someone to talk with besides you.”

You bit your lower lip and worried maybe you stepped over the line. But Steve gave you a reassuring smile as his hand tightened around yours.

“I think we can work that out. I know Nat has been bugging me since you came here. She really misses you as well. Just know she won’t try to help you escape. She will just be your friend only.”

Steve stared at you as he watched his words sink in. You nodded your head in agreement knowing full well that Nat wouldn’t help you since Steve had hinted at that before. You had a feeling that all the Avengers were in on this which broke your heart initially. Little did you know that they each were out for a partner to call their own? For now, you continued to make the best of your situation despite all your mixed feelings.

Steve was a man of his word and Natasha came to visit you both a week later. He was outside talking to her while you waited patiently in the living room. You wondered what Steve was saying to her. Was he placing down rules for the visit or having a friendly chat? Your nerves were starting to get the best of you until you heard the door open and shut. Looking over your shoulder you saw Nat and Steve walking into the room smiling. Nat practically ran to you as you stood up from the couch. Her arms wrapped around you and you smiled hugging her back.

“I’ve missed you so much,” Nat whispered into your ear.

Tears formed in your eyes as you whispered the same thing to her. “I’ve missed you too.”

Steve watched as you both embraced and he could see the smiles on both of your faces. If this is what you needed to make you more comfortable and trusting around him, then that needed to be. Steve cleared his throat to get both of their attention.

“I hope you two have a wonderful time catching up. If you need me I will be outside.”

As he turned on his heel to leave you called out for him, “Steve?”

He turned to look at you.

“Thank you for this. I appreciate it.”

Steve nodded and headed outside to get some work done.

When you both were alone you sat on the couch facing each other. Nat smiled at you as she took in your appearance. She was good at always reading you.

“So how are you doing? This is me asking as your friend, not Steve’s spy.”

“I’m doing well. I mean what’s there really to say? I was forced here by Steve, the man I have loved for years, to become some housewife or sex object to him. Don’t get me wrong I enjoy the sex now but everything started so badly between us.”

“Well, I’m happy to hear you at least love him. I get how things started out was rocky for you but are you pleased with him now?” Nat inquired.

You sighed and nodded your head. “I’m as happy as I can be in my situation. I’m still mad he won’t let me have my super soldier powers back. He said I had to earn it. I don’t even know where to start Nat with that. He may never give me that back and I’m tired of feeling frail all the time. I mean even now as we speak I’m not well. I started throwing up a few mornings ago and I feel like death. I’m tired and I just can’t keep up with him.”

Nat looked at you up and down taking in your features. A soft smile played on her lips. “When was the last time you had your cycle?”

You started to think of the last time you had it. “I think the last time was before Steve brought me here. You don’t think I’m pregnant do you?”

“How often do you have unprotected sex?” She questioned.

It was at the moment your stomach felt ill again. “I-we have it daily. Like several times a day.”

Nat grinned at you. “I have to say you’re glowing. I just so happened to bring some tests with me as Steve asked me to. Here let me get you one.”

Nat walked over to the dining room table and opened a bag she had with her. Taking the test she handed it to you. “Go and take it. I will wait for you here.”

You grabbed the test from her and practically ran to the bathroom on the first floor. Quickly, you took the test and sat it on the counter. The test felt like it was taking forever to give you results. You were thinking how you just told Steve over a week ago that you wanted to wait. What would you do if this came back positive? Heck, you did want a child one day but not now while you’re trying to figure this relationship out.

A knock on the door had you panicking as you looked down to see the result was indeed positive. A gasp left your mouth as another knock and Nat’s voice filled the air. You opened the door with tears streaming down your face. Nat looked at you and hugged you instantly knowing what the result was.

“I’m not ready Nat. Not now while we are working through everything.”

Nat just held you running soft soothing circles on your back. “You’re ready my friend. This is what you have always wanted with the person you’re with. It may be a shock now but let it sink in over the next few weeks. I know Steve is going to be very excited to hear the news.”

As if the news wasn’t shocking enough the door closed behind Steve as he entered the room. “What news?” he asked as he took in your distressed look and tears.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?” Steve takes a few steps toward you and Nat. His voice is laced with concern.

You let go of Nat and take a few steps back, trying to put distance between the two of you. Honestly, you weren’t sure how to feel. Everything was starting to feel rushed instead of flowing naturally between you and Steve. The room started to get warm and your vision started to tunnel.

“Hun you don’t look okay. Why don’t you sit down.” Nat asked as you stumbled in the living room.

The room felt like it was spinning and you felt sick to your stomach. This is all a bad dream you were telling yourself. You started to hyperventilate which caused Steve to move quicker so he was now by your side holding your shoulders.

“Sweetheart, what do you need? You’re starting to scare me.” He stated, taking in your features.

“I’m gonna be sick.” You exclaimed, pushing him away and running to the bathroom. You emptied the contents of your stomach into the toilet as Steve stood outside the door.

“Nat, I’m worried. She’s been throwing up a lot lately. I’m thinking we need a doctor to see why she is so sick.”

Nat shook her head. “Steve, can't you see she’s not sick like a cold, she’s pregnant. All those mornings being sick to her stomach and she hasn’t had her cycle since before you brought her here. You both are gonna have a baby.”

Steve stood there shocked by what his friend was saying. He did it. He finally did what he set out to accomplish. This child was going to bind them together forever. Now he just needed to get married to her to make it official.

“I-I’m going to be a dad?” Tears filled his eyes as he watched you flush the toilet and sit up against the wall.

Steve knelt next to you and gently hugged you. You weren’t feeling all that great but let Steve do as he pleased. He held you close as he whispered how much he loved you.

“We’re gonna be a family sweetheart. Can’t you just picture how perfect our lives are gonna be?” Steve went to kiss your forehead but you pushed him back causing him to land on his butt.

“No Steve this is not perfect, nothing about this is perfect. What we needed was time together to work on us. I still needed time to adjust to this life you threw on me. Now I have to focus on a baby instead who is gonna grow up with a psychopath for a dad.”

Steve stood up, towering over you. “I’m not a psychopath. I’m not the bad guy here. Remember it takes two people to make a baby. You never complained once while we made love. I get that you’re scared but I would watch your tone with me.”

You stood up from the floor and stared angrily into his dark blue eyes. “I never asked this in my life. Remember I’m the victim here. Now bringing a baby into the equation they will be a victim as well. Where are they supposed to make friends in the middle of nowhere? Go to school? They will wonder why I can’t go anywhere.” Tears started to fall from your eyes. “I feel suffocated being in this house all the time and having no freedom. Right now you are ruining the one time I could see a friendly face. I just can’t handle this anymore.”

Nat walked in between the two of you and held you while you cried. Steve stared at the two women and was about to say something when Nat shook her head no. Angry with how this took a turn for the worse Steve headed for the door and left slamming the door behind him.

“Come on dear, let's go sit down. The stress isn’t good for a baby.” Walking to the couch you both sit down, not saying anything for several minutes.

“Nat, what am I supposed to do?” You whispered.

“Do you love Steve?” She asked.

You gave her a weird look. “Why does that matter?”

Nat chuckled, “Don’t be difficult 'cause you're mad it’s a simple answer. Do you love him?”

Taking a deep breath in and out you nodded. “Of course I do. I always have despite everything that has happened between us.”

Nat smiled at you. “That’s great. Now do you regret getting pregnant?”

“No, I don’t. I’m just shocked that it happened so fast. I just feel alone in this.” You looked down at your hands in your lap.

“Breathe hun. First off you aren’t alone. You have Steve and me to help you out. You will have the best doctor who will help you through all this. Plus Bucky and his wife are about due any day now with their baby. Bucky doesn’t live that far from here and you know the guys will want to raise the kids together. So you don’t have to worry about your child being alone. I promise you everything is going to work out.”

You think about everything Nat just said and determine she has a point. Maybe things won’t be as bad as you think. Steve was starting to trust you around the house more and now with a baby on the way maybe he would start giving you more freedom. It’s not like you could run anyway, especially while pregnant. Steve would hunt you down in a heartbeat and make your life hell again. You decide to make things work for the sake of the baby. There was love and hope between the two of you. Steve was old-fashioned and no doubt was planning to propose to you now. You decided no more whining, no more doubt, that today going forward you were going to embrace your new life.

You headed upstairs to relax as Nat was leaving the house. She ran into Steve and told him about the conversation you just had together. Nat reassured Steve that you weren’t gonna run away and that you just needed time to wrap your brain around the news. Nat explained how you came out and confessed your love toward him. That she thought this was good enough to keep you together.

This made Steve happy to hear. He wished you would have expressed this to him but was grateful that you had Nat to talk with. Steve had put up all the food and supplies that Nat brought with her and she was about to leave.

“One more thing Steve. You have to give her back her super soldier powers again. She will need it during her pregnancy but will give her even more reason to trust you. This will be the right decision for you both.”

“Nat, are you sure she just won’t take off with the baby? I would be devastated to lose them both.” Steve stared at Nat with his hands on his hips trying to assess her.

“I swear to you as your friend and future aunt to your baby that she won’t run. You need to give her room to breathe.”

Steve let out a sigh. “Okay, I will do this for her.”

Nat hugged Steve and headed for her quinjet. She took off and headed back to New York.

Steve headed inside to look for you. Climbing the stairs he found you on the bed relaxing and talking to your stomach.

“I love you so much, my peanut. I can’t wait to meet you and hold you close to me. You’re gonna be your mama and daddy’s perfect little angel when you arrive.” You rubbed your stomach a couple of times before Steve interrupted you with him clearing his throat. You rolled over to see him walk into the bedroom and sit down next to you.

“Hey sweetheart, I’m sorry for getting upset earlier at you. When you called me a psychopath that hurt me. I’ve never shown you anything but love.”

You sat up on the bed next to him and took a breath. “I’m sorry for calling you that. I was just stressed and a little angry at the time. I know you have always shown me love and attention. So please accept my apology.”

Steve leaned in and wrapped an arm around you to hug you. “I forgive you. Also, I wanted to show you that I trust you by doing this.”

His fingers gently grabbed your wrist where the bracelet was and he put his thumbprint on it. The bracelet blinked a couple of times and then opened. He took the bracelet off you. Within moments you could feel your body tingle and then it stopped.

“I don’t want to control you anymore so now you’re super soldier serum should be working once again. I want us to be equals in this relationship. I want you to be able to trust me and vice versa. We are going to become a family and I want this to work between us.” Steve rubbed the back of his head and just continued to gaze at you.

You couldn’t believe what he just did. This meant so much to you that you got teary-eyed. “Steve, I don't even know where to begin to thank you. To know you trust me enough to take that bracelet off means the world to me. I want you to know I’m with you until the end of the line.”

Steve hugged you tight, kissing you on the forehead.

“God, I love you so much. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to watch our kids grow and I want to grow old with you. You bring out the best of me sweetheart and I know I can do the same with you. What I’m trying to get at is will you be mine forever by marrying me?”

Steve got down on one knee and pulled a black velvet box out of his pants pocket. As he opened it your mouth dropped open in shock as you stared at a beautiful diamond ring that was shining back at you.

“Yes! Yes, I will.”

You threw yourself at Steve who caught you easily. Your lips planted on his as you both started to kiss. Steve’s tongue caressed yours as you moaned into the kiss. Your fingers ran through his hair causing a groan from him. Steve pulled back briefly and started to take the ring out of the box, slipping it onto your ring finger. Steve lifted you with ease and gently placed you onto the bed.

“I want you sweetheart. I need to be inside you. What do you say? Will you be mine?” He huskily asked.

You nodded your head and started to pull clothes off one another. Clothes were flying around the room until you were both naked. The both of you were knelt on the bed when Steve’s fingers moved swiftly to your pussy and felt that you were already aroused. Pushing his fingers into you, you let out a gasp as he started to thrust them into you. Every thrust inside you had you moaning over and over again. Your forehead rested against his shoulder as he continued to pull you apart piece by piece. Steve made a come hither motion with his fingers against that spongy spot inside you. Within seconds you were cumming on his fingers and groaning his name. As he pulled his fingers out of you, you shoved him onto his back and straddled him.

“Sorry Stevie but I need you.”

You wrap your hand around his hard cock and start to stroke him. Your hand starts slow and steady finding a nice rhythm that has him softly cussing at how good it feels. When you see precum spilling down his tip you speed up a little making him a panting mess as you continue to play with him. But you suddenly stop and rub his cock in between your folds as you adjust above him. His cock is right at your cunt and you start to sink down on him slowly causing him to whisper out “fuck”. Slowly you start to ride him. Up and down, up and down you ride him like your life depends on it. Steve grabs your hips as he thrusts up into you. Your hands are on his chest as you circle your hips to keep up your pace with him. You both are groaning and moaning at the sensation you both bring to the other.

Steve loves seeing you on top of him like this watching you ride his cock while purring out his name. Your breathy pants and the way you take him is the sexiest thing he has ever witnessed. His right hand slides to your stomach and he gently rubs his hand there. Knowing he was the one to get you pregnant makes him feel accomplished and proud. He would keep you pregnant as much as he could. Steve longed to see the changes your body would make from your wider hips to your breasts. He would worship you every day in bed for as long as he lived. His hand moves slowly down your stomach and finds his prize, your clit. Steve’s thumb lightly starts to rub circles around it making you moan more as you speed up riding him. He knows you’re close, and can feel your walls hugging his cock tight. He fucks up into you harder and has you cumming undone for him above him.

“Oh, Steve…” You shout above him as he continues to fuck you through your high. Your fingernails scratch down his chest causing him to hiss out in pleasure and pain.

Quickly Steve rolls you to your back and starts plunging into you over and over. All you can do is hold onto his shoulders as he takes you apart again. His hips are ruthless as they thrust into you at a punishing pace. Steve knows he's hit your spot when your eyes close and you choke out a moan. Your legs wrap tight around his slim waist as you let him take you higher and higher.

“You feel so good, sweetheart. I need you to cum for me again.” He whispers down at you.

Harder and faster Steve continues to fuck you until your walls are tightening around him. You scream his name to the heavens cumming once more as he chases his end and cums deep inside you with a shout. Steve is panting above you as he pulls himself out of you and falls next to you on the bed. You're trying to catch your breath when you look over at him smiling as he kisses your shoulder.

“That was perfect Steve. Now that I have my super soldier strength back I can go several more rounds with you like before.” You wink at him and Steve lets out a growl.

“I’m going to fuck you into this mattress and have you begging for me to stop. But trust me I’m gonna be so thorough you won’t be able to get out of bed for the next few days. I’m gonna fuck this pussy every way I can imagine and make you mine again and again.

“Steve, I love when you talk like that. Now take me again…”

“My pleasure,” Steve smirked at you and kept his promise to destroy you.

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[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 ∽

masterlist | join my taglist

“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 

[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.

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒔𝒘𝒂𝒏

🕊️a whore's fairytale masterlist🕊️

summary - you come to find out that the man you grew up alongside isn't the same after the royal ball.

warning - smut, dub-con, death, violence, creampie, kidnapping, slight stockholm syndrome, swearing, obsession.

18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

Y/n-Odette and Steve had known each other since she was a baby. Upon Steve meeting her when she was born, their parents had been planning Steve’s marriage to Y/n-Odette. Over the years as the two grew, they despised each other, causing their parents to worry which they would then be forced to be together every summer. 

You had been dreading today. You wished to stay home but your father would not allow it. You sat in the carriage, staring out at the scenery, hoping you could distract your mind from having to see Steve again. 

Steve squirmed impatiently, thinking of anything that wasn’t you. A stupid, silly girl. Steve groaned quietly as he went to meet you in the ballroom until he stopped, his heart began to thump. Your smile made him feel weak in the knees. You had the same face, hair and eyes as Y/n-Odette but seemed to be someone quite different. 

“Hello, Steve.” You speak, smiling softly.

Steve couldn’t speak, he wondered if you were the same girl he had grown up with. He returned your smile, holding out his arm for you to take. He felt his heart skip as you accepted, taking his arm and together you walked onto the dance floor as the music began to play. Steve felt so happy, like he was dancing on air.

After that night, you and Steve had spent the rest of the summer together. Steve dreamed of you, he awoke each morning eager to see you. When he was with you he felt overjoyed, but he was also tongue-tied and could not tell you how he felt. Steve couldn’t imagine living without you, it was almost like an obsession had begun to grow within him. 

The summer had come to an end and it was your time to leave. You and Steve decided to dance all night at the royal ball, love burned so bright that the whole ballroom could practically feel it. You smiled up at the handsome prince but inside you could feel a tug of sadness. You couldn’t bear to leave him, he had given you so much love over the summer but he had never declared it. You hoped he would finally tell you how he felt tonight.

As the music came to a stop, so did you and Steve. You both shared a long glance, waiting, searching, hoping. 

Steve suddenly turned to the guests with a giant grin. “Arrange the wedding!”

The noise around you suddenly stopped, everyone was speechless. 

“Wait!” You called out. 

“What is it?” Steve pleaded, “You’re all I ever wanted. You’re beautiful!” 

“Thank you,” You replied, “But… What else?” You knew deep down in your soul that Steve loved you as much as you loved him, so surely he wanted you more than your beauty? You just needed him to say it. 

Steve stared blankly, he really had no clue. “What else?”

Your heart dropped. “Is beauty all that matters to you?” You asked, your father and his mother stood dumbfounded, they were so close. 

Steve swallowed hard. “I… Er… What else is there?” He asked.

Your heart sank even further. You had been wrong, Steve did not love you at all. You turned and swiftly exited the ballroom, taking the hopes of two kingdoms with you. 

You and Steve barely said goodbye as you left. He watched as you departed with shock and bitter disappointment. 

Steve sits as Lord Rogers paces the royal sitting room. “What else is there?” He mockingly spoke. “She says, ‘Is beauty all that matters?’ and you say, “What else is there?!” 

“It was dumb, I know.” Steve replies, hanging his head as he tries to think.

The weather outside was not helping his mood. It seemed to match the sadness he felt deep within. 

“You should write a book.” Rogers continued. “How to Offend Women in Five Syllables or Less.” Rogers leans forward, flicking Steve’s forehead. “Think!” He urged. “You must see something other than Y/n-Odette’s beauty!” 

“Of course I do, Rogers!” Steve begins to stumble as he thinks. “She’s… Well, you know. And then, well… Er…” 

Lord Rogers rolled his eyes. 

“Oh, I just don’t know how to say it!” Steve finally blurted out, and then he added. “I know, I’ll prove it to her. I’ll prove my love!” He nods to himself before muttering. “I’ll make her mine. I’ll make her see how I see her.” Steve stands, swiftly exiting the room as he begins to form a plan. 

Meanwhile inside the carriage, your father shakes his head sadly. “I just don’t understand.” He looks at you, watching as you continue to look out and into the forest. “What else did you want him to say?” 

You bite your bottom lip softly before letting it go as you turn to look at your father. “I just need to know that he loves me.” 

Suddenly the horses whined and bucked, causing the carriage to stop. “What on Earth–?” King William, your father turned the door handle and stepped out. Beyond the horses, a large man was blocking their path. Although the man stood in the shadows, King William recognised him instantly. He had watched him grow from a small child but he could feel something was off and with one look at you, he orders. “Stay inside, Y/n-Odette.” He closes the door and takes a step forward, his guards moved to encircle him, spears drawn.

“Steve, what are you doing out here so late? How did you get here?” The King had never felt this kind of fear before, it was as though something had possessed the man before him. He looks around, brows furrowed as he sees no way for Steve to have gotten there without them noticing. “You must be cold, my boy. Why don’t you hop inside our carriage and we can take you back to your mother. I am sure she’s worried.” 

Steve chuckles and the sound causes The King to stumble, it sounded so dark, so chilling. “I can’t have you do that, sir.” 

The Kind and Steve’s mother had always wanted the two of you together but at this moment, he didn’t know this man. At this moment, King William would do anything to protect you. He could feel strong amounts of power radiating off of Steve, darkness he had never felt before. King William steps back towards the carriage, his guards moving forward slightly, protecting him and you. 

Steve’s eyes sweep over them all, causing a shiver to run through their bodies. “Why are you scared?” Steve takes a small step forward, his foot sinking into the soil beneath him. 

King William clears his throat, straightening his back. “We are not scared. Why don’t you come back with us? Then we can take you back in the morning.” His head whips around as he hears you scream, his eyes widen as he sees Steve’s best friend pulling you from the carriage. 

Thumps can be heard and The King whips back around only for his eyes to widen as Steve stands toe-to-toe with him and his guards lay dead around them. “I said, I can’t have you do that, sir. I want Y/n-Odette and as long as she has you, she will never fully devote herself to me.” Steve towers over the short King, making him seem as tiny as an ant. “I may have screwed up this evening but she will be mine.” 

“S–Ste–” King William is cut off by Steve’s hand gripping his throat, his eyes bulged and skin begins to turn purple. 

Everything had turned black after you were pulled from the carriage, unaware of what had happened with your father. You woke up surrounded by water but you felt weird causing you to look down, shock and fear shoot through you as you see white. You were no longer in your body, instead of a human body it had been replaced with that of a swans. 

“Y/n–Odette.” Hope ran through you as you heard Steve’s voice, your eyes darting around until they landed on his large figure. “You’re finally awake, my little swan.” That hope that had built inside of you had come crashing down once you realised that he wasn’t there to save you. Your body moves, gliding across the water, distancing yourself away from the man you thought you had known. “Don’t let the small spell make you sad, Y/n–Odette. It doesn’t last the whole day, as soon as the moon comes up…” 

Steve didn’t need to finish, creeping across the lake the moonlight touched your wing. Water began to swirl from below, your swan-like self rose upward in a shimmering golden-grey light, transforming you into your human form. 

Steve grins. “That’s how it will be until you are mine, Little Swan.” He said as you landed gently on the shore. “You have to be on the lake, of course and when the moonlight touches your wings, you’re human!” 

You turned away from him, betrayal blossoming within you. Your thoughts went to your father. “My father… Is he okay?” 

“Define okay…” 

You spun around, eyes wide and full of tears. “What did you do to him?!” 

Steve merely shrugs. “I may have killed him.” 

You gasp, reeling back as the tears begin to slowly fall. “Y–you…” 

Steve moves closer, his hand reaching out to touch your cheek but you move your head. His brows furrow as anger seeps in but he shakes it off, allowing you this. “Killed him, yes. I had to, otherwise I couldn’t have you, Y/n-Odette.”

“You can’t have me now, Steve! You killed my father! You kidnapped me and trapped me at this lake forever!” Your eyes meet his, so many emotions swirl around behind them. “I could’ve gotten over you only liking me for my looks but this… This is too much. You’re not the man I thought you were. The man I grew to love…” 

“Now, don’t speak like that, Y/n-Odette. Sooner or later you are going to cave into being mine. You’ll learn to love this version of me.” He grabs your chin, ignoring how you fight against his hold and places a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Don’t fight it, little swan. You’ll be mine soon.” And with those words, he leaves. Leaving you alone and broken, your body hits the ground as sobs break free, your pain filling the forest around you. 

Days, weeks, maybe even months go by without you giving into Steve and his advances. No matter what he did, you remained silent and distant. You began to enjoy your swan form, using it as an excuse to escape your human problems. 

On the other hand, Steve was slowly losing it. He began taking his anger out on everyone else, those who loved and admired him, now feared him. His mother thought that it had something to do with your disappearance and your father’s death. Only if she knew the truth would she hate the man her son became.

Steve grew impatient, he didn’t understand why you weren’t his already. Why did you have to be so stubborn? Did you not see how much he loved you? “What else do I have to do, Buck? She’s supposed to be mine.” He put his head in his hands. His best friend watched him from the doorway, arms crossed. 

“I don’t think you’re being rough enough. You’re being too sweet on her, Steve. A woman like her needs rough handling, someone to dominate her.” Bucky pushes off of the wall and moves closer to his friend. “You need to stop playing Mr. Nice guy.” 

Steve nods, standing and patting Buck’s shoulder with a smile. “You’re right, Buck.” His smile slowly turns into a smirk. “I guess it’s time to go get my girl.” And with that, he walks out of the castle and into the woods. 

Steve reached his destination the moment moonlight shone on the lake, watching golden-grey swirls appear as your form changes from swan to human. He grins, sauntering straight towards you. “Little swan. As beautiful as ever.” He shakes off the strange feeling that appears when you brush off his words, already ignoring and moving away from him. Too bad Steve had already reached you before you could distance yourself further. 

He pulls you closer to him, gripping your chin roughly as he forces you to look him in the eyes. “I don’t appreciate this attitude, Y/n-Odette. You’re mine and I am going to make you see that whether you like it or not.” You shiver under his hold as he growls. Steve pulls you over to a tree and pushes you up against it, your dress bunching up against your hips as he lifts you, wrapping your legs around his waist. 

Your pulse quickens and your eyes widen, you push against his shoulders with poor attempts. Deep down you wanted this, you just didn’t like the person he became. “N–no, no. Steve. You… You can’t do this. Please.” 

Steve caresses your cheek, smiling almost too sweetly at you. “You don’t have to pretend anymore, Y/n-Odette. You’re mine. We’re meant to be together.” His hand moves, gripping your chin with his thumb. His eyes fall to your lips as your mouth opens slightly. “I’m going to make you my wife, my Queen, little swan. Then you will bear my children.” 

You shake your head, ignoring how you throb at the thought. “I’m done waiting for you to give in, Y/n-Odette. You need to understand that you’re already mine.” Steve presses against you, feeling you throb against his clothed cock. “You feel that? That’s what you do to me, little swan.” A small whine slips through your lips. “Just give in. Let me make you feel good.” You gasp as he pulls you into a kiss, all thoughts leaving your mind as his lips begin to move, pulling you deeper into his hold. Steve nips your bottom lip, sliding his tongue inside as a moan escapes your mouth. 

You barely notice as he frees himself, sliding his hardened cock between your lips. Your grip tightens on his shoulders, pulling away slightly. “S–Steve…” 

His hand moves, caressing your cheek. “Shh, little swan. It’s okay.” Your mouth drops and eyes roll back as he slides into you, filling you to the brim with one thrust. “That’s my good girl, feel so good for me.” Steve grunts, pressing you into the tree harder while he holds back from roughly fucking into you. You go limp in his arms, never having felt this amount of pleasure before, not even the times when you had touched yourself. 

“O–oh… Steve…” 

Steve smirked to himself, “Is that all you needed, little swan? My cock? If I had known all I had to do was fuck you to get you like this, I would’ve done it along time ago.” You want to argue back, huff and disagree with him but he was right, you couldn’t think when he was inside of you. His grip on you tightens before he suddenly begins to fuck you, slowly pulling out only to roughly thrust back in. Your moans trapped in your throat and your back arches, pressing close to his. 

Steve grunts, his eyes locked on your face. He felt smug that the pleasure you were feeling was caused by him. He changes the angle of his hips, his cock sliding deeper inside of you, hitting spots you didn’t even know existed. Your hands grip Steve’s back, nails clawing into any skin you can find.

Steve’s hand moves up, his thumb swiping the necklace that lay around your neck. His hips not stopping as he stares deep into your eyes. “The moment I gave you this necklace, Y/n-Odette was the moment you became mine, there was no stopping this fate. You’re stuck with me, little swan.” 

Your walls clench around him as he claims you. His thrusts pick up as he begins to pound into you, chasing his release. He grips your hips and neck, pulling you into a deep kiss. The moment his lips meet yours, it feels like your mind has become cloudy, unable to think about anything other than the feeling of him inside you. You didn’t know how someone’s lips had the power to wipe your mind clean of any thoughts. 

Steve shoves a hand between your legs, his fingers finding your swollen clit and immediately pressing on it. Rolling it between his fingers before stroking it while his cock continues to hit deep inside. “Cum for me, little swan. Let me feel you milk my cock.” Steve groans, pressing closer to you as he whispers against your lips. 

Your head falls back against the tree, feeling your cunt pulse and throb as Steve continues to rub your swollen clit and thrust against the sweet spot deep inside you. “Go on, little swan. Cum for me.” Your eyes cross as Steve buries himself deep inside of you, your toes curl as you squeeze him. You feel your orgasm ripple through you, your moans echoing throughout the forest.

“My good little swan.” He growls out as he fucks into you before his cum shoots out, painting your walls a pretty white. As Steve softens inside of you, he pulls back to look at your face and grins almost evilly, the back of his hand stroking your cheek. “You’re going to make such a pretty Queen, little swan.”

You would learn that you may think you know someone but everyone has a little bit of darkness lurking within and you just happened to be the target.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[navybrat817]

https://www.tumblr.com/navybrat817/773964651350360064/gummydummy19-zanephillips-richard-armitage?source=share

Why would you do this? 😭

I just reblogged it, nonnie! But let's imagine, shall we?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Warnings: Masturbation, oral sex (referenced), unprotected sex (referenced), stalking, Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers (they're warnings, okay?)

Banner by the talented @cafekitsune

Bucky/Steve who is away on a mission and brought a piece of your clothing with them. You’ll never understand why he wants your ruined underwear so much, but you don't argue. Your lingering scent makes his mouth water while he strokes his thick cock and he wishes he was home to bury his tongue deep inside. It isn't always your underwear he brings. Sometimes it’s a shirt or cardigan. He can pretend he’s taking it off before latching onto a nipple. The little gasp you always let out when he does drives him crazy. And you aren't getting out of bed when he gets home.

Bucky/Steve who lives next door to you and one of your shirts somehow ends up in his basket. He knows it’s wrong to jerk off with the garment on his face, but he does it anyway. It smothers his grunts and moans as he imagines what it would feel like to split you open with his cock. You're such a sweetheart with your little waves and smiles, but he wants to see you cry from pleasure. Maybe the other neighbors will hear you scream his name so they know who you belong to.

Bucky/Steve who works for your dad and knows he isn't supposed to touch you, but wants to. You leave your sweater behind on accident one day after a gathering and he uses it before returning it. He moans your name and swipes his thumb over his tip, wondering if you would tease his length and balls with your tongue or if you would beg for him to fuck your throat. You’ll look so beautiful down on your knees, your cunt practically dripping with the need for him to fuck that hole, too. Your dad will have to accept that you belong to him.

Bucky/Steve who doesn't mean to start stalking you. It just happens. You need someone to look after you. So, it isn't his fault he’s currently laying on your bed, touching himself like he watched you do the night before. His fingers will stretch your pussy much better than your own, and he’ll make room for his cock. He may finish on the fabric and leave it in the middle of the bed for you as a teaser for what’s to come. Because the next time he does it'll be inside you. And you’ll thank him for it.

Nothing to see here, lovelies. Go about your business. ❤️ Love and thanks! ❤️

[biteofcherry]

Touch the Darkness

dark mafia!Steve Rogers x female reader

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

warnings for this chapter: dark!Steve Rogers; possessiveness; power imbalance; forced marriage; D/s undertones; jealous Reader (though she claims otherwise); non-lethal poisoning; sex; turned on by violence;

word count: 6.8k

Author’s Note: I know you've waited a bit for this next chapter. I didn't exactly have trouble writing it, my muse was simply interested in other projects. But I'm always a hoe for dark Steve, so returning to him was inevitable. As it was inevitable for Steve's dick darkness to start corrupting Reader in small doses. Or, maybe, he gives her boldness to act out on instincts she would otherwise suppress, because they're not proper 😏 For a brighter side - Princess gains a genuine new friend! 🥰

Touch the Darkness Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Chapter 8. Tempestuous as the sea

~ * ~

You could blame the slow process of writing on the tiredness, but it was honestly the fault of delicious macaroons you’ve been reaching for every single sentence. At least with the sweet bite the mundane typing of a bland report felt a little more exciting. Once you ate the final macaroon, only the boring part would remain. 

Of all the excitement and challenges that came with running a health center, the bureaucratic side of it was truly exhausting. 

A knock on the door of your home office startled you mid bite. 

Before you swallowed and managed to invite him in, Steve was already pushing the door open and strolling inside.

You glared at him, but didn’t comment on the intrusion. Knowing your husband, he’d say that he came in your pussy just this morning and you had no objections to it, so why fuss over a damn office. 

Pointing out that you didn’t exactly invite him into your pussy either, was a futile argument. Especially since you didn’t stop him, or even elbow him in those perfect, stupid abs of marble. 

Quite the contrary. You rocked back against him and begged, until he rolled you fully onto your front and savaged you. 

You were still disgusted with yourself for that. As well for the sex two nights before. And the one in the shower. Or the Sunday humiliation, when it became clear that the chef was in the kitchen preparing your fancy dinner while you were screaming the house down as Steve wrung three orgasms out of you, one after the other. 

So disgusted. And still giving in to the temptation that was the devil himself. 

Who walked around your desk and leaned against it, looking down at you curled in the chair and with your cheeks stuffed with sweets. 

A strange feeling knotted your stomach. 

You were barefoot, wearing a pair of leggins and a hoodie. Crumbs of gooey sweetness were sticking to the corners of your mouth. Steve was barefoot, too; which meant he came home for the rest of the day, with no plans of leaving. He had a plain, tight T-shirt paired with dark jeans, his leather jacket already taken off. He stared at your face, only briefly glancing at the almost empty plate of macaroons.

This scene was so… domestic.

Instead of unwrapping that terrifying thought, you diverted your attention to the royal red envelope in Steve’s hand. A beautiful calligraphy shimmered in gold. 

“What’s that?” You asked, swallowing the rest of your macaroon. 

Unexpectedly, Steve leaned forward. Tip of his tongue licked at the corner of your mouth, swiping the sticky sweetness. Then it plugged between your lips that opened on a soft gasp.

The kiss was short, but intense and depraved. As it always was with Steve. And your treacherous body chased it as he pulled back.

“Lemon would pair better.” He hummed, resuming his previous stance.

“What?” You blinked, confused. Your head was still swimming in dizzy fog from that unexpected kiss. As well from the fact nothing more followed.

You were married, but there was nothing marital about your relationship with Steve. There were no sweet kisses good morning or goodbye, or hugs and cuddles. If either of you initiated physical contact it was to fuck. 

But now no touching, or undressing followed. The unexpected kiss remained just that - a shard of affection a normal newlywed couple might show each other.

It messed with your mind. And pulled at a cord in your chest.

“With your taste.” Steve explained; corners of his mouth curling in a hungry smirk.

Which, really, should be followed by his mouth descending on other parts of you. 

Instead, your body filled with heat both from the kiss and his words while Steve returned to tapping the envelope against his thigh, unbothered. 

Swallowing, you pushed that spark of need down. Steve was already too aware of how eagerly your body responded to him. Especially, since you stopped fighting it too much when the desire sparked low in your core. You weren’t going to further your humiliation. 

“So what’s with that?” You asked, pointing at the red envelope. 

“An invitation.” Steve showed you the beautifully addressed front. “For Mr and Mrs Rogers.”

You ignored his pleased smirk when he said the last part. It still evoked annoyance. The realization other people were now calling you by his last name fueled that irritation. 

“To Stark’s annual post expo gala.” He said it with a roll of his eyes.

Clearly, he wasn’t thrilled. You doubted it was because he had no regard for technology and knowledge. As much as you hated to admit it, Steve Rogers was exceptionally smart and up to date with many areas of expertise. 

From what you learned about your husband over the weeks, he wasn’t a fan of boring, social chit-chat and fake politeness. Which is why he preferred his direct, brutal methods of communication. But even he couldn’t fully escape socializing with the people he had on payroll and leash. 

“I assume it’s expected of me to go with you,” you glared at him, even though a small spark of excitement flickered in your chest.

You’ve been to a few fancy parties and fundraisers, but to attend something of this caliber was a thrilling novelty. 

For one, you’d get to dress up. You liked it, once in a while, to feel like a modern sort of Cinderella, who gets to swirl around in a pretty dress and eat expensive snacks. Secondly, it was a tempting opportunity for you as a director of the health center to lure in new benefactors. The project you’ve been working on was one that would need a solid dose of funding. 

There was also the aspect of meeting people in similar fields. Stark’s expo focused on technology mostly, but that area leaked into medical fields, as well. There were a lot of neuroscience breakthroughs in the past years, which served psychiatric and psychological fields. It could prove beneficial, if you spoke to some experts.

“Princess,” Steve tilted his head, “fuck the expectations.”

You almost sagged in disappointment.

“But-” he continued- “I have a few things to settle with some people and they will be there. It saves me a lot of time to do it there. And since I’m going, you are going, too.” 

He dropped the envelope onto the desk then cupped your chin with his hand. You hated how you didn’t hate the jolt of pleasure his touch evoked. 

“First official outing as newlyweds, Princess. Gotta make an impression.” There was near cruel mirth in his blue eyes.

“Pffft!” You snorted, attempting to pull away from his grip. You still haven’t fully accepted that once Steve had his hand on you, he was unlikely to relent.

Well, your mind didn’t accept it. Your body has become a whore for it. 

“I doubt I’ll be making any sort of impression on the corrupted men who kneel for you,” unless they were disgusting pigs interested in ogling Steve’s sidepiece. “Though I guess I could use you, for a change. Your name could be impressive enough for some schmucks to donate to the center.” 

“Tell them you’re mine and they’ll fund you three centers.” Steve said it so casually, without any hint of cockiness. In his eyes, it was a simple truth. 

“I’m not yours,” you hissed, more annoyed at the heat you felt creeping over your skin.

At that Steve smirked. 

He released your chin and stood up. He didn’t even counter your claim, as if it was the most pitiful lie that didn’t require any argument because neither of you believed it. 

He stole one macaroon before leaving your office. 

You quickly stuffed your mouth with the only macaroon left, in case he would take that away from you, too. Then you returned your gaze to the project document. Suddenly, with the prospect of potential donors, you felt a new wave of energy and motivation to write it all out. 

You clung to the claim that it was the same motivation filling you with excited lightness as you donned on a beautiful evening dress three weeks later. Adamant on enjoying the fancy party and working for the center’s goals, you pushed away the nagging thoughts of going there as Steve’s wife. 

Not that you thought anyone would be interested in that, anyway. You weren’t a famous socialite, or a model, and you considered Steve to be terrifying enough that no one would imagine him getting married. Much less gossiping about it.

The smaller argument you weaved - about you not even matching your outfits, ergo no one would recognize you as a couple - died the moment you descended the stairs to where Steve was already waiting for you. 

The only time he wore a suit was at your wedding. His usual style was rougher, more practical and intimidating. A jagged chunk of volcanic rock, still pulsing with burning lava. So it was quite shocking to see him in a dark blue two piece that was cut so perfectly that his broad shoulders and tapered waist seemed more prominently outlined than when he wore jeans and tight shirts. 

The shade of his suit was dark enough to hold that dangerous, intimidating aura, but the shiny blue hue matched your choice of dress perfectly. 

He was the night sky to your moon glow. 

Steve didn’t mask the hunger in his eyes as he looked at you. Though you were thankful he didn’t utter anything about not making it to the gala, because he wanted to sate that hunger. 

He did, however, order you to turn around; with that rough, low voice that had your clit tingling. Despite the vow you made to yourself two months ago, to not so easily comply with his commands, you did as asked. You found yourself staring at your reflection in the large mirror in the entryway, your body heating up from the sudden lewd imagery of what could happen if Steve put his hands on you. Would he make you watch as he…

His ice blue eyes sparked a dark satisfaction, undoubtedly reading your body well enough to suspect where your thoughts have wandered.

But he didn’t mock you. Instead, his touch was a gentle brush that evoked goosebumps as he placed something shiny and heavy on your chest. 

He clasped the white gold necklace at the back of your neck as you stared at the incredible rock nestled in a cushion of diamonds that were so crystal white they appeared to be frosty snow. 

The rock in the middle was a hue of sundown orange, mostly transparent, but with a flame encapsulated within. Like the heart of a star. 

“Once upon a time,” Steve’s fingers trailed over your exposed collarbones and down along the delicate chain of the necklace. “There were six rarest jewels in the world. Called the infinity stones.”

Memory of Batroc asking about them flashed in your mind and you held your breath. 

The rumors were true, then. Steve was the ghost from the legend, who tore through the Greek magnate’s citadel and stole the rarest gems, without leaving a trace. If this was one of them, were the rest nestled in the rings on his fingers like you presumed once before? 

“This one is called the soul stone.” Steve traced the outline of the pendant with his fingertip, dipping it into the valley between your breasts. Your nipples hardened instantly.

“Fitting, since you’re the devil who stole mine,” your retort had no bite. Not with how breathless you sounded.

Steve chuckled, slipping his hand over your breast and lower. His fingers splayed across your belly as he pressed closer against you. His breath was a warm tickle on your skin as he brushed his lips along the column of your throat.

“I stole more than that, haven’t I, Princess?” He smirked at the flash of fear in your eyes, which dissolved into stubborn defiance. 

“Yes. My peace and chance at happiness.” You glared at him in the mirror. Which didn’t dent his amusement. 

With a chuckle, Steve kissed your neck then scraped his teeth over the spot. Thankfully, not hard enough to leave any evidence, but making your pussy clench. 

You scurried away towards the exit, before he decided to humiliate you by leaving a hickey that anyone could see. 

You tried not to show how Steve’s touch on your lower back affected you, neither on your way to the car, nor when you entered the lavish gala at the Stark Tower. You doused the warmth of comfort with a flute of champagne when Steve spent the first solid hour keeping you at his side and introducing you to various people. As his wife.

It was only after you two returned to the main hostess and Tony’s wife, Pepper, who greeted you at the entrance and then smoothly roped you into a social conversation, that Steve murmured something about attending to business.

He left you with a brief kiss to your cheek and a brush of his fingers sliding from the small of your back over your ass. Unapologetic about doing it publicly.

You narrowed your eyes, glaring at his retreating form. 

“Ah, newlyweds.” Next to you, Pepper let a dramatically dreamy sigh. 

Your gaze shifted to her, only to notice she was most amused. Unlike some of the women whom you were introduced to, she didn’t look at you with envy or disdain. Which had annoyed you, because really there was nothing to be jealous of. Well, mindblowing sex perhaps. But that was it. Nothing more. 

If they wanted Steve so much, you’d happily give him away. If he only let you. 

Pepper seemed genuine in her friendly approach, witty responses and warmth. The only flaw you found in her so far was the fact she was friendly with Steve, too.

Not overtly, in a way betraying carnal interest, or former relationship (which you sensed from a few other women at the banquet). But the platonic friendliness toward someone like Steve was alarming in itself. 

“Oh yeah,” you snorted, lifting your glass of champagne to your lips, “I’m sooo head over heels for him.”

Pepper’s laugh was soft and tinkling like velvet bells. Nothing fake, or annoying in the sound of it. Quite the opposite, you were surprised how it put you at ease after mingling with people who wore fake politeness like a family crest.

Crinkles appeared in the corners of her eyes as she looked at you and you couldn’t help but respond with your own grin.

“People often mistake my sunny disposition for naivety. They're very wrong.” Pepper said, taking a sip of her strawberry gin & tonic. 

“I know you didn't marry Steve out of love.” She stated bluntly, without judgment or conspiratory whispering. “But watching you two, some things are unmistakable.”

She lifted her left shoulder in a shrug, sparkling amusement in her eyes turning into a knowing look. Your heart halted before setting in a slightly panicked flutter. 

There were little moments when you felt certain cracks in your hard hateful shell, but you hoped that you managed to quickly hide them behind walls and under a mask. You didn’t want Steve finding more of your weaknesses. It was even worse, if someone else saw them.

Pepper barely met you and if she noticed how comfortable you felt at times beside Steve (when you forgot to remember you’re supposed to hate him and be disgusted by his touch), then the bastard must have been aware of them, too. Crap.

Still, you arched your brow as if you had no idea what she was implying. Pepper’s amusement deepened, she wasn’t buying your cluelessness. 

“There may not be romantic affection, but he sure gives you attention.” She said, angling her body so you stood shoulder to shoulder, facing the grand ballroom.

Before you snorted that you’d rather never have drawn Steve’s attention, she vaguely pointed at the room full of people. Expensive suits and dresses worth more than your half year salary, diamonds dripping, chests puffed. Women polished to perfection glued to the side of their men, sweet smiles offered on painted lips.

“That's something only very few women here experience. It’s rare.” There was a hint of disappointment in her tone, but you doubted it had to do with her own relationship. 

Tony Stark was like a hummingbird on energizer and coke - he fleeted from one conversation to the other, growing bored, acting pretentious asshole. He stopped for longer only with a few people. But every half an hour or so, he would search for Pepper and the way his attention zeroed in on her left no room to doubt his love for her.

She grounded him. Gave him a moment to recharge, even as she called him out on some of his antics. 

Many of the women at the gala, who accompanied their husbands, or partners, were there as an accessory. Beautiful, adding to the status, but few were even acknowledged by their company. 

“I’m not sure having Steve Rogers’ attention is exactly a good thing.” You pointed out. 

Everyone here may officially pretend he was a ruthless businessman, while they all knew the bloody truth. He was a mafia boss, a brutal king of the underworld, who wouldn’t blink an eye flaying someone open here in the light of the crystal chandeliers. 

No one wanted his attention on them, not really. 

“Not for most.” Pepper agreed. “Though some of the women might disagree.”

“Are you talking from experience?” You maintained a neutral, indifferent tone (mostly because you didn’t think there was ever anything between Pepper and Steve); yet there was a tiny flicker of something angry that ignited at the prospect.

It stirred with a growl and clawed out a few times that night, when a few of the women made it obvious they were wet and willing for Steve.

“God, no!” Pepper snorted, pretending to shudder. “I’m not that adventurous.”

“Yeah, bungee jumping without rope might be less of an adrenaline rush than being with him,” you rolled your eyes, but the corners of your mouth tilted in a grin. 

“Well, it seems only fair to give back in return. What would perturb the dark overlord?” Pepper pretended to seriously ponder, tapping her finger against her lips.

“I could try setting Bucky on fire.” 

Pepper’s laugh resounded with the same melodic chime as previously, but much louder. Not a single fake note, her burst of laughter was real. It enticed your own laugh to bubble out; both of you falling into a fit of giggles behind your drink glasses. 

You drew the attention of many people, who either watched you with suspicion, or glared offended. You didn’t care. And when your gaze connected with Steve’s, who looked your way from the other side of the room while some men were babbling next to him, you didn’t even pretend to be gloomy.

“Now that was the height of entertainment tonight.” Pepper looped her arm around yours, still smiling brilliantly ear to ear. “For me, at least. Now, how to repay you for that? I can tell you all the spicy gossip. We could get drunk and no one would dare to say anything to either me or you.” 

“Not gossip, but information.” You finished your champagne and reached for another flute as a waiter passed by. “I need to know more about this swamp my so-called husband treads through. And I need to milk some of them for money for the center.” 

“I know just the right people for that,” she nodded with determination and steered you toward the first potential benefactor. 

Pepper’s company was a wonderful balm and entertainment rolled into one. She was a graceful hostess, smart and perceptive professional, but also a bubbly imp who didn’t spare you the details about some sordid affairs. 

Though she could excuse herself with her duties, she stuck with you the entire time. She also managed not to smirk at your glower when she pointed at three women who have in the past fucked Steve. 

However, her smile turned mischievous as she spotted someone over your shoulder. She reminded you of the lunch date in three days that you happily agreed to, then smoothly glided away before you managed to properly say goodbye. 

Words stuck in your throat as you felt the familiar solid warmth at your back. Steve’s shadow cast over you first, then his heat and scent engulfed you. Like a mythological fate, always reaching its grasp for the heroine, no matter the hard fight towards the light, your personal devil softly pulled you back into his clutches. 

His hand touched your back and he spun you around. 

“Having fun, Princess?” He looked down at you. 

Icy blade of his gaze cut down men bigger than life, but, despite the first instinctive flash of fear, you felt it slicing through the layers of your clothes and defences. 

Plate by plate, you quickly reinforced your shell, to at least endure a few hours more before Steve got under your skin again. 

And into your cunt, because with his hot looks and your four glasses of champagne that was inevitable. 

“I don’t think parties of this kind are meant to have fun.” You scrunched up your nose. “But I managed to sway some rich snobs to potentially fund that educational project for the center. Leon Stavros seems keen to donate half the sum.”

You announced with a proud tilt of your chin and a smile. Tame enough to not share the actual happiness you felt with Steve. You wanted to boast about your little success, but you had to remember that he was the bane of your existence.  

Steve’s hand on your back settled heavier, while his other slid along your arm. He took your hand in his, outstretched your joined arms and in a single move swept you onto the dancefloor. 

“You’ll have to use his money for a different project.” He continued your conversation as he led you across the floor. “The psychoeducation and resources for caretakers project is already fully funded.” 

It took you a moment for his words to register, because you were still scrambling to catch up with the fact that a heartbeat ago you were standing off to the side and now you were dancing across the ballroom. 

It was truly mind boggling that your psychopath husband was a damn good dancer.

“What? Who?” You blinked, when it finally dawned on you what he said. You even cast a glance around, wondering who managed to deliver the funds so quickly.

Something sharp pierced through your chest as you realized there was only one person who knew before everyone else and could fund a project with a single transfer. Your gaze flicked back to Steve’s handsome face.

“Steve…” 

Heaviness of the situation turned worse by the second, because he wasn’t showing that smug, triumphant look, which would at least remind you to hate him. 

“You were determined to get that project running.” Steve replied easily. There was no affectionate passion in his next words, but still they chipped at the walls protecting you - “What you want, you get.”

“Thank you.” At the moment you didn’t know how else to respond. How to treat this gift. 

You could think of it as his manipulation to get you further into his sticky web, but he already had you at his mercy on all accounts. No, it flashed too much thoughtfulness.  

To preserve the comfortable setting of animosity, you asked cheekily - “What if I want a divorce?”

You were determined to keep asking for a divorce every chance you got. Officially, you believed it was because you wanted out of this fucked up marriage. Secretly, you were thrilled with the various ways Steve responded to that demand. 

“Then-” he pulled you even closer, his cheek brushing yours as he leaned down to whisper into your ear- “you get a fucking so hard, any silly ideas drip out of you permanently.” 

Steve delivered on the hard fucking, even though you haven’t mentioned divorce again that night. 

You blamed the champagne and happiness at having your project funded for making you sit so close to him in the car on your way back from the gala, rubbing your heated body against him with unrestrained need. Steve was merciful enough to not wait it out until you lost the battle with your own will and initiated sex yourself, but instead dragged you over his lap, rolled up your dress and fingered you into a dripping, screaming puddle before you made it home.

Then he took you hard, in front of that fucking mirror in the hall. With you completely naked, wearing only the necklace and watching yourself give in to the monster completely. 

You nearly passed out when he fucked you again in bed. Your almost unconscious state didn’t stop Steve from using you thoroughly and then spilling thick ropes of white cum all over your body, white drops landing around the jewel sparkling on your chest. 

Though your body was wonderfully blissed out each time you and Steve had sex - which was becoming an almost daily thing - you still refused to use the blissful adjective to describe your marriage. Or any positive adjective, for that matter. Even as the comfort of sitting next to him or sharing meals increased; or how he casually draped your legs over his lap, massaging your calves while he typed murderous decrees on his phone. 

The word domestic echoed in your head often, but you drowned it in screams of his victims, gunshots, Steve’s cold and sinister commands. 

You shouldn’t feel at ease and comfortable around the devil who kept you chained to him. You gave yourself a pass for enjoying mindmelting orgasms, it was a small reward for your suffering, but you wouldn’t let yourself get accustomed to being a wife. Not to Steve. 

So you pretended to be only mildly annoyed when he strolled into your office one day, bringing lunch as if he was a normal loving spouse, and announcing that you’ll be hosting a dinner at home. For the mayor and his wife. To his credit, Steve didn’t imply you had to be the one preparing said dinner. Having a chef was another benefit of your doom. But the expectation of playing the sweet wife and hostess to the corrupted pair of a politician and socialite made your blood boil.

Or maybe it was the fact that mayor’s wife was one of the few women Pepper confirmed to have been fucking Steve in the past.

No, you told yourself as you put on the soul stone necklace when preparing for said dinner. You didn’t care who he sank his cock into. You didn’t care, if he returned to that and left you in peace. 

But your conviction shattered to sharp, jagged pieces when mayor’s wife made obvious moves at your husband, with her own fucking husband sitting right there at the table! 

You were appalled. By her rudeness, of course. 

Mayor played a clueless idiot, probably too scared of Steve to fight for honor. Or maybe he was actually gaining something from having his wife almost drop to her knees and swallow Steve’s cock whole. You played indifference, because why should you care? 

So maybe your knife and fork scraped against the plate so loud that everyone at the table cringed in pain, when the mayor’s wife briefly touched Steve’s arm and mentioned missing their passionate art discussions. It was nothing. Just a spasm in your hand. And you gulping down half of your wine glass all unladylike was because you needed to soothe an itch in your throat, not because the floozy licked her lips and made a suggestion Steve should go with her to the new exhibition. 

Though Steve hadn’t replied to Miliana’s advances, focusing on the not so subtle business talk with her husband, he didn’t refuse her either. Which made you want to reach for the knife he had custom made for you and stab him with it, when later that night he had the audacity to touch you. 

Steve merely chuckled, absolutely amused. Mockingly asked if you were jealous. Which you were not! 

Tension slowly dropped after that, as days passed and you haven’t seen that skank’s face. Unexpectedly, however, the mayor requested an official visit to the center. It was a short one, a half an hour so the press could write about his interest in healthcare and supporting new community focused projects. You also suspected he wanted to kiss Steve’s ass.

You didn’t have a reason to deny him, especially since the press would also mention the center and new projects, which would be helpful. It was even better, because he came only with some of his office staff, no wife at his side. 

But then, just as you were breathing in relief that the circus was almost over, the mayor had the balls to invite himself over to your house for dinner the upcoming weekend. 

In true political bullshit manipulation, saying how his wife loved your chef’s scallops and couldn’t wait to taste them again and how your house provided comfort to talk business with your husband. 

At this point, you were wondering if the slimy asshole was a cuckold. 

He was bending backwards just to give his own wife an opportunity to touch your fucking husband. Maybe he really was into that. Maybe he wanted to watch. Maybe you should’ve vomited when you relayed the request to Steve and he shrugged that he’s free Saturday evening: if the greedy idiot wants to crawl begging for more scraps. 

Your appetite evaporated, as you spent days fuming at the prospect of another weird dinner when a shameless woman would be drooling after Steve while you were sitting there right opposite of her, in your own damn home. 

No, this time you wouldn’t stand for it. You would make Miliana associate your house with something most unpleasant. And a small vial stolen from one of the medicine cabinets at the center was going to help you with that.

It was surprisingly easy, really. It should shock you how calm you were as you prepared for the dinner; how a soft smile graced your lips as you set the table while the chef prepared delicious food. But now that determination guided your hand through the plan, earlier fiery aggravation melted away. 

Briefly, you wondered if the same calm took over Steve when he took lives. 

You shook that thought away, since you weren’t attempting to kill anyone. Though when a memory of her hand on Steve’s arm flashed in your mind, your fingers itched to grab a knife. 

Applying a little drop to the bottom of a crystal glass and another on the rim, smearing it along, you felt an odd kind of satisfaction unfurl in your chest. There was no hesitation, no worry about potential mix-up. No, you were certain Miliana would once again seat on Steve’s left. Just like the last time. It was cunning, since it appeared all innocent - her sitting on her husband’s right, just you were sitting on your husband’s right, the men facing each other. 

Your smile widened when the couple entered your dining room and sat exactly like you predicted. Politely fake conversation flew as the chef brought out first dish and his assistant poured wine into glasses. 

The scallops tasted even more delicious, in your opinion. Especially when after a few sips of wine the mayor’s wife had to quickly excuse herself to the bathroom. 

Few minutes later the mayor’s phone vibrated, which led to him frowning at the screen and excusing himself as well - undoubtedly to aid his wife. When he walked back into the dining room a while later, he looked nervous and embarrassed, paler too.

“My apologies. It appears my wife and I have to leave promptly, it was unplanned, but can’t be avoided.” 

You made a sound of worried pity, but continued to cut into your own food and eating it without an ounce of genuine distraught. Steve arched a brow in surprise, but nodded his head, which seemed to bring the mayor immense relief. The man was more scared of offending Steve than for his wife’s health. 

It was less than a minute when you heard their car take off from the driveway. The sound of it and the fact they were no longer polluting the space of your home pleased you greatly. 

“Mhm, these scallops are really delicious,” you hummed, licking your fork. 

“Princess,” Steve tuned the petname in a sing-song tone. “What did you do?”

Slowly, you looked his way. He didn’t seem angry, nor worried. He angled his body towards you, propping one elbow on the table and drumming his fingers in a steady rhythm. He wasn’t asking if it was your doing, he already knew. 

“Don’t worry, I didn’t permanently damage one of your mistresses. She’s just gonna spend a day or two glued to the toilet.” You snorted, clenching your fingers around the fork. “But maybe next time she’ll reconsider coming into the house where your wife lives.”

Dark gleam flickered over Steve’s ice blue eyes. 

He leaned forward, moving his hands to grip the edge of your chair and yanked it at an angle toward him. Your legs were between his, his hands gripping the sides of your chair, veins protruding in his forearms as his muscles tensed.

“Your possessiveness gets me hard.” He chuckled darkly.

“I’m not possessive!” You objected immediately, crossing your hands over your chest. 

“You demanded I marry you, the ruthless fucking king of the underworld. So now you have to deal with having a wife. And your reluctant queen won’t stand for any more humiliation.” You spat the last part, boldly leaning forward and glaring at him with all the accumulated hatred. 

“Princess,” Steve inched even closer, not the least bothered by your outburst. Quite the opposite, he appeared to love it. “My dick hasn’t even twitched for any other woman, since I tasted your lips. There’s no pleasure in standing their fake, exaggerated despair, when I have your sweet pussy so responsive to my darkness…”

Your retort died on your tongue when suddenly one of Steve’s hands gripped your chin.

“Now-” he tightened his pinch on your chin, his voice smoothly transforming into a cold warning. “Don’t ever do anything like that again.” 

“Miliana doesn’t have enough spunk and her husband is too much of a scaredy wimp to retaliate in any form.” He showed zero empathy toward them. “But there are eels and sharks swimming around us and some of them would dare to bite back.”

Holding your chin, Steve forced you to lean closer. His breath tickled your mouth as he inched forward, as well.

“And if anyone dared to put a finger on you, it would end in a bloodbath.”

Only Steve could make a psychopathic threat sound like a seductive, velvet vow of a lover.

Your brain screamed that it was wrong, that you should be disgusted by his words and scared of how easily it came to him to take lives. Yet your insides filled with heat, one spreading through your chest and a wave of it pooling low in your abdomen.

“Don’t go on a murder spree, because of some macho obligation.” You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You. Are. Mine, Princess.” Steve punctuated each word with a brush of his lips against yours. “To harm or disrespect you means to hurt or disrespect me. I have no mercy for those. I would cut off the limb, with which they hurt you, and carve out their intestines. Then fuck you while their blood pools at your feet.”

“That’s disgusting,” with how breathy you sounded, your claim felt like a lie.

One that Steve read right away.

“It turns you on.” He chuckled, grinning. 

“I know that you get so wet from the scary, unhinged things that I do.” His other hand slapped your knees apart.

“I’m not-” you frowned, ready to deny that as well. Even though your body was already primed for him.

Words went forgotten when Steve picked you in a swift move and deposited you in his lap. The hand on your chin moved to grip the front of your neck; the cool sensation of his rings digging into your soft skin made you gasp. The sound nearly stopped in your throat, because he tightened his grip. And it made your arousal burst stronger.

His right hand ventured between your spread thighs. His fingers easily slipped beneath the flimsy fabric of your underwear and teased your slick folds.

“Soaked.” Steve triumphed, running the ring-adorned knuckle of his index finger up and down between your folds. “Sweet, good-hearted Princess who lives to help people, cumming on her brutal husband’s weapons and cock.” 

The mere mention of his thick cock made your pussy pulse. The image of his gun and of the knife sliding along your skin and pressed so close to your most sensitive areas caused a shiver to rock your whole body.

Steve chuckled at your body’s reaction. He laced kisses and licks along your jaw, continuing to tease your cunt.

“As for you wanting to be a queen at my side…” he sucked your earlobe lewdly, making you moan. 

“Do you know what a queen’s role is?” He whispered right into your ear before pulling back slightly.

“To stand fierce and unbending beside her king.” He withdrew his hand, kissing your lips when you pouted at the loss of delicious stimulation. Fingers sticky with your slick, he ran his palm up your belly and over your breast. Then to your arm. 

“And to give him an heir.”

Steve’s eyes locked with yours as his wet fingers circled your arm, thumb pressing right over where your contraceptive implant was hidden beneath your skin. 

“Are you ready for that, Princess?” He asked, rubbing the spot in sinfully slow circles, as he would do your clit. “Are you ready to take out this little implant and let me breed you properly?” 

Your brain was too scrambled, even though Steve barely touched you, really. The adrenaline from poisoning a woman who dared to flirt with your husband mixed with desire that the fucker so easily ignited in you. 

The unexpected mention of impregnation? In that dark, raw way only your husband dared to speak to you? For a short moment your mind simply stopped working.

“No!” You clenched your eyes, letting the last remnants of reason fight against the threat. 

Steve didn’t seem perturbed by your refusal. Perhaps it wasn’t even something he was interested in, just another means to torment you with and make you yield to his command. 

“Until then, you remain my Princess.” He declared, cutting off your airflow for a few seconds and taking possession of your mouth. 

When he let you breathe again, you felt dizzy and pliant. Your own hands clenched on his shoulders as Steve stood up abruptly. He kicked the chair away and placed you on the dining table. 

Plates and wine glasses tumbled over, food and wine spilling across the tablecloth and dripping down on the floor. You felt the sticky wetness soaking into your back as Steve splayed you on the table, but you didn’t care. Not when he was holding you down by your throat with one hand and ripping your soaked underwear with the other. 

Then there was the sound of a zipper and Steve’s low, sexy groan as he gripped his hard cock and stroked it a few times. 

Steve held your gaze as he tapped his dick against your pulsing clit and then nudged it into your opening. A needy whine vibrated in your throat, tempting the fingers around your neck to squeeze just a tad tighter. 

He slammed into you in one stroke; dark victory flamed in his eyes as your body jerked and your pussy clamped around him. 

Buried to the hilt, with his hand around your throat and the other holding your leg bent and pressed against your chest, Steve looked down at you. Danger pulsed off of him like a dark aura, reminding you how defenceless you were.

“Don’t ever fucking endanger what’s mine.” He warned.

You glared at him, indignant at being referred to as his. But then he snapped his hips back and into you again, and your ire flowed into brain short-circuiting pleasure. 

“My good, depraved Princess.” Steve praised, fucking you hard. “Creaming around my cock so prettily.” 

You fisted the tablecloth, mewling as each of his thrust drove you closer to the peak. It was so rough, so raw and based on urges you never considered yourself to have. You hated it. Hated Steve. Hated what he made you into. And you screamed his name as you came.

[shybluebirdninja]

Primal Claim

Summary: Bucky Barnes finally succumbs to his desire, claiming you with rough, passionate dominance, leaving no doubt that you belong to him completely.

Pairings           : Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Note                 : explicit content, rough sex, domination

The room was buzzing with the usual banter of the Avengers. Laughter filled the air, a mix of inside jokes and teasing, but your eyes were fixed on only one person—Bucky Barnes. That sharp jawline, the piercing blue eyes, and that rough edge that never seemed to soften. You’d been pushing him for months now, dropping hints, teasing him when you had the chance. And tonight, after yet another playful jab from the team about your not-so-subtle crush on him, you could feel the tension in the air shift.

You were no stranger to the comments. Hell, even Tony had joined in on the teasing at one point, always with a smirk and a “C’mon, Barnes, you gonna do something or let her pine away forever?” The whole damn team knew. It was impossible not to notice how you'd bring Bucky his favorite coffee without being asked, or how your eyes lingered a little too long when he walked into a room.

But Bucky? He’d always played it cool, keeping you at arm's length, though you swore you caught the flicker of something darker in his gaze when he thought no one was watching.

Tonight, though, there was a different energy in the air. You knew he was at his breaking point—hell, you were pushing him there on purpose.

The night had dragged on, and you had finally caught him alone, sitting in the corner of the dimly lit common room. You sauntered over, your hips swaying just enough to catch his attention. You knew exactly what you were doing, and by the way his eyes darkened as they tracked your movements, you knew he was done holding back.

“Bucky,” you purred, leaning against the couch, one hand resting on the backrest while you let your fingers brush just close enough to his shoulder. “You’ve been awfully quiet tonight. Something on your mind?”

He looked up at you, his jaw tight, his eyes stormy, and for a second, you thought he might actually walk away, like he had so many times before. But then, something shifted in him. His gaze locked on you, hard and unrelenting, and before you could say another word, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you down onto his lap, his grip firm but not painful. The sudden move took you by surprise, but the heat between you two was undeniable.

“You think this is a game, huh?” His voice was low, gravelly, dripping with that rough edge that always made your knees weak. “You’ve been pushing me for months. Teasing me. Bringing me coffee, smiling at me like that, letting the whole damn team watch you do it.” His metal hand gripped your waist now, fingers digging into your skin, and it sent a shiver straight down your spine. “You think I haven’t noticed?”

Your heart raced, pounding in your chest as the intensity in his gaze burned through you. This wasn’t the soft, playful Bucky everyone saw. No, this was the soldier, the one who didn’t fuck around. And he was tired of pretending.

“I don’t think you mind it as much as you pretend to,” you shot back, though your voice was breathier than you intended. You wanted to keep up the teasing, but damn it, he had you on edge with just a look.

Bucky’s lips twitched, but there was no smile. “Mind it?” He scoffed, tightening his grip on your waist, pulling you closer so you could feel the hard length of him pressing up against you. “You have no fuckin’ idea what you’re doing to me, do you?” He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. “You think I’ve been ignoring you because I don’t want you?”

Your breath hitched at the raw, animalistic tone in his voice. You tried to steady yourself, but the way he was looking at you—like he was about to devour you—had you squirming in his lap.

“Bucky—” you started, but he cut you off.

“You’ve been driving me crazy for months, sweetheart.” His voice dropped even lower, and your heart skipped a beat as he stood up, lifting you effortlessly with him. He pressed you against the wall, his body flush with yours, pinning you there as he stared down at you with that unrelenting, possessive gaze. “And now you’re gonna see what happens when you push me too far.”

Before you could respond, his mouth was on yours, hot and demanding. It wasn’t a gentle kiss—it was hungry, desperate, the kind of kiss that stole your breath and left you gasping for more. His hands were everywhere, gripping your hips, sliding under your shirt, his fingers leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

“You think you can keep teasing me and get away with it?” he growled against your lips, his hands sliding down to the waistband of your jeans. He yanked them down in one rough motion, his fingers immediately finding your slick heat. “You’re already soaked, aren’t you? All that teasing, and now you’re the one who’s desperate.”

You moaned as his fingers worked you over, his touch rough, unrelenting, exactly what you had been craving for so long. “Bucky, please—”

“Please, what?” he taunted, his voice low and dangerous. “You wanted this, didn’t you? Wanted me to lose control, to fuck you like you’ve been begging for.” His fingers slipped inside you, and you gasped, arching against him. “You’re mine, baby. No more games.”

He didn’t wait for a response. In one swift move, he had you spun around, your chest pressed against the wall as he pushed inside you, filling you completely with one brutal thrust. You cried out, the sensation overwhelming as he started moving, rough and fast, his grip on your hips tight enough to leave bruises.

“Bucky—fuck!” Your voice was breathless, your body shaking with the intensity of it all. But he didn’t slow down—he only went harder, his grunts and groans mixing with your moans as the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room.

“You like that, huh?” he growled in your ear, his breath hot against your neck as he slammed into you again and again. “You like when I fuck you like this? When I make you mine?”

You could only moan in response, your legs trembling, barely able to hold yourself up as he pounded into you with a relentless rhythm.

“Bucky—oh my God—” You could feel yourself getting closer, the pressure building in your core, but Bucky wasn’t done with you yet.

He spun you around again, lifting you up so you had to wrap your legs around his waist as he thrust into you, his body pressed against yours, hot and sweaty. “You’re not going anywhere, baby,” he growled, his voice rough and breathless as he buried himself inside you one last time. “You’re mine.”

And when you finally came, it was like a fucking explosion, your body shaking in his arms as he held you close, his own release following moments later, filling you completely. He didn’t let go, even after the shaking stopped, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Told you. You’re mine.”

[societyfolklore]

We Had A Deal

Title: We Had A Deal

Pairing: Dark Nomad! Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Summary:  You were Steve Rogers connection to help him disappear after Germany.. but the last time he called, it didn't work out..After almost a year he reappears—bleeding, angry, and needs somewhere safe. But you’re not a hero. Just someone with a skillset. But you owe him and Steve never forgets a debt.

Word Count:  5.4k  

Warnings: /Explicit Content / 18+, Minors DNI, SMUT, Unprotected sex, Rough sex wall sex, fingering, creampie, Slight Dub Con..maybe.. little angst and emotional manipulation.. guilt, shame, Brief mentions of past physical injury (blood, wound care)...

A/N:  Set in that two year period of Civil War to Infinity War @buckybarnesfic this ones for you.. hope you like it.. (since we didn't clarify which Steve in the poll)

The lights were off when you got home. Not unusual. You were always the one switching them on, feeling your way through the dark like it was muscle memory. But the air felt wrong, too still. And the window was unlocked. That wasn’t routine. That was intentional.

Your steps slowed. Every sense sharpened. Your hand brushed the wall near the light switch, but you didn’t flip it, letting your fingers just hovered there, the quiet hum of instinct crawling up your spine. Without looking, your other hand slid beneath the hem of your jacket, hand closing around the grip of the compact pistol holstered against your ribs. Safety off. Just in case.

Then you saw him.

Sitting at your kitchen table, a shadow in worn black, broad shoulders hunched but not slouched. Blood dried across his knuckles, crusted at the base of his fingernails. His ruined tactical suit looked darker than black, stained with sweat, dirt, something you didn’t want to name. A backpack sat slumped at his feet, worn and scuffed like it had been dragged through hell.

His hair was longer than you’d ever seen it. Still blonde, but darkened with grime, curled slightly at the ends where it brushed the collar of his suit. A beard shadowed his jaw, lending something feral to his otherwise statuesque stillness. It had been months since you’d seen him. But one look at him now, and the sharp weight of recognition curled low in your chest like a bruise resurfacing. He didn’t look like the man people called Captain anymore. He looked like a man who had nothing left to lose, shoulders rigid beneath the frayed edge of his ruined suit, jaw tight like every word cost him something. His eyes didn’t shift, they just locked on you with a stare that looked straight through skin and memory, like he was cataloguing all the ways you’d changed and all the ways you hadn’t that made it hard to breathe. Like he'd seen too much, lost too much, and carried it all in the line of his spine, straight and unrelenting.

And that stare- flat, unreadable, but heavy. The kind of look that pinned you in place. Like you were the one trespassing. You could feel it in the gravity he carried. Like every step he’d taken since he walked out of your life had weighed more than the last.

And now he was here. Hurt. Waiting.

“I needed a place to stay.”

You dropped your keys on the bench with a sharp clatter. “And you chose mine?”

“You were the closest. You owe me. Remember?”

He shifted slightly, just enough for your eyes to catch it. His hand ghosted toward his ribs, fingers curling in just a little, like he was testing the edge of something raw. The fabric there clung damp to his side, and the tension in his jaw told you everything you needed. He was hurting. More than he wanted to admit.

You crossed your arms. “I gave you a clean house.”

“You gave me a trap,” he said quietly.

Your jaw flexed. “I ran every scan. Every sweep,” you snapped, louder than you meant to. “Don’t pin your ghosts on me, Rogers.”

You could feel your face heating, not from anger, at least not only from that. It was defensive, instinctive, a wall thrown up against the guilt gnawing just beneath. Because deep down, buried beneath the pride and professionalism, was something worse: the sharp sting of failure.

You didn’t mess up. You double-checked that house. Triple-checked. The data was clean. You knew it was. But that didn't change what happened, Steve had gotten wounded Sam too. And so had the only people on your roster who still tried to do good. Tried to be more than just ghosts and criminals.

Maybe it wasn’t your fault. But it sure as hell felt like it.

So no- you weren’t going to let him say it out loud. You beat him to it.

He looked down at his hand. Blood flaked off his knuckles. “You don’t get to call it a sweep when there’s blood on the walls.”

The room went still. Just the hum of your old fridge and the ache of everything unsaid. It felt like something suspended in the air, waiting to break.

“I’m here now,” he said, softer this time. “Because you’re the only one I trust to make it right.”

It was almost worse hearing that from him. Like it was a mercy he was offering you, calling it trust when it was really necessity. And worse still because a part of you wanted that trust. Needed it like a wound needed stitching.

“I didn’t ask you to trust me,” you said. “That was your mistake.”

“And you didn’t say no when I walked in tonight,” he countered, voice lower, more deliberate. “That’s yours.”

The words hit hard, slicing past your pride to land where your guilt still lingered you barely kept buried, where your pride tried to build walls against it. You hated the way it made you flinch inside, hated the way he saw too much with too little effort. Still, you kept your expression neutral, carefully smoothing over the twitch of reaction. If he sensed your hesitation, your guilt, your anger. It stayed unspoken. You locked it behind your eyes and gave him nothing. Just moving away to pull a med kit from under the sink. Tossed it onto the table with more force than necessary.

“Can’t have my most high-profile clients dying on my floor. It’s bad for business.”

His eyes stayed on you. Heavy. Accusing. Unforgiving.

“And you’re all about business, aren’t you?”

That stung more than it should have, because it wasn’t entirely wrong. But it wasn’t right either. The money had always been part of it, sure. But some jobs you took because they reminded you who you used to be. Who you wished you were still capable of being. Jobs that felt like a line between right and survival.

And Steve? He was one of the few that made you want to be better.

Which only made all of this worse.

You patched him up in silence. The gash along his ribs said more than he ever would. You didn’t ask. Just worked- methodical, steady, but not detached. Every time you pressed gauze to his skin or stitched through another layer, you were painfully aware of the rise and fall of his breath, the way his muscles tensed under your fingers, the way he didn’t wince even when he should have.

You told yourself this was just another job. Like any of the others. Keep your head down. Get it done. But the truth crept in at the edges. He wasn’t just another fugitive. He was Steve fucking Rogers. The one you used to believe in. The one who made you feel like maybe you weren’t just profiting off desperation.

Now, you were here, cleaning up his blood in your kitchen while guilt licked at the base of your spine. “Where is everyone else? Sam? Wanda? Hell, where’s Natasha?”

He didn’t answer at first. Just stared like he was weighing how much to give.

“We’ve had to split up for a bit,” he finally said. “Easier if everyone lays low on their own for a while. Can’t afford to make patterns. Too many people watching too many doors.”

You studied him a moment longer, the implication settling like a stone in your gut. They were scattered. Isolated. Probably hurting. Probably hunted. Where they all in places like yours? With people like you?

"Wonderful..." Your voice was quieter this time. Not a surrender. But something worn, something bruised.

He let you work. Silent. Watchful. You wondered if he could feel your shame in the way your hands hovered, just a second too long, at the edge of his skin.

He took the pullout couch. You weren’t noble enough to offer your bed. But later that night, you stood barefoot in your kitchen, watching him sleep. Drink in hand. Guilt rotting in your gut. You couldn't stop thinking. 

You hadn’t spoken to Natasha in years when she called you over a year ago. Said Steve needed help. Discreet help. She’d made it clear you weren’t the first call. Just the one she knew would say yes. That said enough on its own. You were reliable, cold-blooded, detached, at least that’s what your reputation had earned you. Just the ghost in the wires. Not someone who got involved.

You’d helped a lot of people disappear, stay hidden. Everyone was running from something- bad choices, bad people, or bad governments. You never asked what. Never cared. Names, locations, and needs. That’s all you needed to know to make someone vanish.

But Steve wasn’t just another fugitive. He was the kind of man people still called a hero, even now. Even after the world turned on him.

That complicated things.

You took your drink to bed. Lay awake staring at the ceiling, the warmth of the whiskey dulling nothing. You tried not to think about how his blood had soaked into your dish towels. About how he hadn't flinched when you stitched him up. About the weight of his stare while you moved around him like you didn’t care.

They were supposed to be the good ones. You were the girl people called when they were desperate enough to pay for salvation.

Desperate enough that you could turn it into currency. It wasn’t heroic, but it kept you fed, off the grid, untouchable. That should’ve been enough. But tonight, with Steve Rogers asleep in your apartment and the ghosts of better intentions clawing up your throat, it didn’t feel like power. It felt like penance.

You'd wanted to believe helping the runaway Avengers would make you feel cleaner. That maybe, just maybe, throwing a lifeline to people who were still trying to do the right thing would tip the scale, erase some of your sins. But all it had done was shine a brighter light on your own rot. You weren’t like them. You weren’t running because you believed in anything. You were running because it was profitable. Because you knew how to disappear, how to survive, how to sell freedom to the desperate.

Helping them hadn’t absolved you. It had only shown you the line you’d long since stepped over. And that- the knowledge of it- curled in your chest like shame with nowhere to go. 

~#~#~#~#~#~#~

The next 48 hours crawled.

Tension threaded through the air like exposed wire, taut, crackling, ready to snap, constant, impossible to ignore. It crept into everything: the sound of the faucet, the scrape of a chair, the clink of a spoon against ceramic. Your footsteps shifted from brisk to cautious whenever he was in the room, movements sharper, clipped. You moved through the space like it was still yours, but now it felt shared in a way you hadn’t agreed to. Like you’d rented out your shadow without realizing.

And Steve? He watched. Always watched. Like he was taking notes you didn’t have access to. Not just studying your habits, but measuring them. Measuring you.

You walked around in a towel. Changed shirts in the hallway after disappearing for hours and returning dirty. Stripped your gun on the coffee table wearing just a tank and shorts- your legs bare, your expression unreadable. It wasn’t for him. It wasn’t about him. It was survival. Routine. Muscle memory that made the space yours again, because you had lived in it, built a rhythm in it. He was the intruder.

You kept your distance. Made no move to soften the edges. Didn’t invite misinterpretation or give him anything he could read as permission. Just silence, space, and cold professionalism.

You took calls in your bedroom, low-toned, clipped, all business. The kind of calls that made Steve’s jaw twitch and his silence go heavy. Names slipped out sometimes, familiar ones. Sometimes dangerous ones. You caught the way he stiffened when you asked about biometric locks or listed off chemical agents like grocery items. You never looked at him while you spoke, but you knew he was listening. Judging.

But if he didn’t like your business, he could fucking leave. You weren’t the one who came crawling through a window. 

You sat down at the kitchen table, dropping the tablet beside your coffee with a flat thunk- its glow still active from the last call. Steve was already seated across from you, silently nursing his mug of tea, eyes sharp and unreadable. You didn’t look at him. Just tapped open your notepad and started writing out your latest supply list. Med kits, Weapons orders, new ID’s... Standard stuff.

Except nothing felt standard anymore.

You could feel his eyes tracking the screen. Judging. The quiet disapproval rolled off him in waves. It curled up your spine like heat off the burner, and finally, you snapped.

“If you’re going to hang around like some awful smell,” you muttered, not even glancing up, “stop side-eyeing me.”

Steve didn’t blink. “You’re a professional, right? So be professional.”

“You’ve benefited plenty from my ‘unprofessional’ connections.”

“And you’ve made a profit off people like me.”

That shut you up. Because it was true. But also, because you weren’t sure what cut deeper- his judgment, or the fact that some part of you thought maybe you deserved it.

You’d had enough.

You snatched the tablet off the table and stood, grabbing your jacket from the back of the chair. The air felt too tight around you, like his presence was taking up more space than it should. You didn’t need his attitude, not in your own home. Not in the place where you were the one doing the favor.

You didn’t say a word. Just moved with practiced calm, throwing the bolt on the door as you stepped out, letting it slam behind you with just enough force to echo.

~#~#~#~#~#~#~

It broke on the third day.

You were on your way back from a drop off, passing through city center on your way back, instinct coiling low in your gut. Something felt off. Not obvious. Not loud. Just wrong. Your eyes swept casually across the street, and there he was. Standing by a paper stand, pretending to read. Too still. Too focused. You never looked straight at him, but you noted everything; his relaxed stance was a little too rehearsed, the subtle lift of a radio at his belt, and the unmistakable outline of government-issue boots tucked under worn denim. He didn’t notice you clocking him. But you did.

You kept moving. Didn’t break stride. Didn’t let the tension touch your face. Just stormed back toward the apartment with fire in your chest and a bitter taste in your mouth.

The moment the door shut behind you, the air seemed to thicken, sound muffled, movement slower. You stood frozen for a breath, keys clutched tight in your hand, heart pounding loud in your ears. The echo of your own footsteps felt louder than they should’ve, like even the floor was warning you. Your pulse didn’t calm, didn’t fade. Tossing your keys down and tore through the nearest drawer, grabbing one of your burners. The screen lit up with a single blinking message.

'City getting hot. Stay home where it’s cool.'

Initials only. The source was solid.

“Fuck…” you muttered, tossing the phone back into the drawer and slamming it shut hard. 

“What?” Steve’s voice came from the living room.

You didn’t answer. Trying to reign in a temper you didn't have a habit of loosing in front of people.  You wanted to scream at him to leave, instead you stormed past him as he entered to hall. 

“You sticking around’s going to get me burned,” you said, too evenly. “I’ve got clients. People on the books. Some of them are wanted too. You’ve got the damn U.S. government charging you with treason. Ross would love to catch someone like me with my pants down.”

Steve stepped closer.

“You’re afraid of Ross… but not me?”

“I don’t make a habit of fearing men who sleep on my couch.”

You turned, marching up the hallway for your room, needing distance. Needing something solid between you and him before this got worse. Before the weight of him pressed in too close again. You needed walls. Doors. Space that he couldn’t occupy so easily. Because being close to Steve Rogers wasn’t just physical- it was gravitational. He pulled at your balance, at your composure, at every carefully drawn line between professionalism and something far more dangerous. He distorted your centre, made you forget which way was forward, which direction was safe.

You didn’t look back as you spoke. “I’ll get you another safehouse,” you said over your shoulder, tone clipped, brittle. “A better one. One with backup access and line-of-sight coverage. Somewhere that isn’t here.”

“I already had your best one,” he replied without missing a beat. His voice didn’t waver, didn’t shift- like the memory was a static weight in his gut. “And I nearly bled out on the floor.”

You stopped, hand curling slightly against the doorframe.

Behind you, his footsteps followed. Measured. Heavy. He wasn’t done. Not by a long shot.

“You think you can just push me out the same way I came in?” he asked, closer now. “You think distance makes this cleaner? It doesn’t. Not for either of us.”

You didn’t turn, but your shoulders stiffened. He was standing too close now. Just shy of touching as you turned around to glare at him.

“I didn't ask for you to come here." 

His jaw flexed, the smallest tic of frustration or restraint. It was hard to tell which.

You crossed your arms. Defensive. Measured. Like you could somehow fold all the vulnerability back into your skin if you just held still long enough. “This some kind of twisted loyalty test? See if I'll sell you out? That it?”

“No.” He took a step closer, boots quiet against the floor. “It’s a reminder.”

“Of what?” Your voice had lost some of its edge now. Less bite. More breath. The words came out quieter, like you weren’t sure you really wanted to know the answer.

“That I’m still here.” Another step. The air shifted between you, heavier. “Still breathing. Still owed.”

You held your ground. Refused to shrink. But your pulse spiked anyway. Your heart had already begun its steady climb toward your throat, hammering at the base of it like a warning. Your limbs had gone tight, tense- not with fear, but with anticipation. Something was coming. Something you weren’t sure you could stop, and maybe didn’t want to.

Before you could speak–he moved.

Not rough. Not sudden. Just close. Too close. He didn’t storm in like a soldier. He closed the space like a storm surge. Inevitable, all-encompassing, quiet until it swallowed everything in its path. It wasn’t violent. It wasn’t fast. But it was unstoppable. You could feel it in the way your breath shallowed, in the way your back hit the wall like it had always been waiting there. He didn’t touch you, not yet, but the promise of it wrapped around your spine and pulled. You felt the energy in the room shift, magnetic and unrelenting, pulling your breath with it.

He backed you into the wall like a shadow, hand braced beside your head. Not touching yet, not claiming–but claiming all the same. His breath was warm against your cheek. His chest nearly touched yours, heat bleeding through your clothes like contact without contact.

You stood your ground, unmoving, eyes fixed on the space just past his shoulder- refusing to meet his. You knew if you looked, if you let him in even a little, you’d unravel. Because if you did, it would be real. If you looked, if you blinked, if you breathed too hard–he’d have you.

“You don’t get to play wolf just because you’re cornered,” you said quietly, but your voice had lost some of its sting.

“I’m not playing,” he replied, his voice low and steady. “And I’m not leaving.”

That was it.

His mouth crushed yours. One hand slammed beside your head, the other sliding to your jaw, holding you there while he kissed you like he meant to end the argument with his teeth.

It was hunger in silence. Control wrapped in restraint. The kind of kiss that doesn’t ask for permission because it already knews the answer.

Your hands didn’t stop him. They pulled him closer.

His mouth was rough- more pressure than finesse. But it didn’t matter. You opened to him anyway, lips parting under the drag of his teeth. Your fingers curled into the cotton of his shirt, holding him there even as your mind screamed that this was a mistake.

But your body had already decided.

Steve groaned low into your mouth as his hand slid down gripping your waist, anchoring you to the wall. You felt the frustration in his touch, the way his fingers tightened like he was holding back too much, like something had been festering under his skin far longer than he could tolerate. The shift of his hips, the heat of his mouth, all of it screamed need, but it wasn’t just lust. There was anger there too. Frustration, guilt, betrayal- everything that had gone unsaid since he walked into your apartment.

The shift of his hips sent a jolt through your spine. He was already hard. Already thick and hot through the fabric of his pants, pressing against your hip with unspoken urgency.

“Steve-”

He didn’t let you finish.

The second you spoke his name, something in him snapped. His mouth found yours again- harder, more desperate this time. A kiss that stole the breath from your lungs, that swallowed the protest before it could form. Like the sound of his name on your tongue had unlocked something primal and possessive.

His hand dropped fast, gripped the crotch of your shorts and tore. The fabric gave with a sharp rip. No finesse. No hesitation. Just sheer frustration and heat ripping through cotton like it was nothing.

You didn’t argue. Couldn’t. Not when his hand was already pushing between your legs, Steve's thick fingers dragging through your slick folds with a possessive thoroughness, like he owned the right to feel how soaked you were.

You moaned, hands slapping the wall as your knees buckled. His fingers sank into you, two at once, pushing your wall out. You clenched around them instinctively, the wet, obscene squelch of your arousal echoing in the quiet hallway. He fucked you slow and deep, but there was no gentleness to it. His fingers curled with ruthless precision, dragging against your front wall until your thighs trembled.

“Hold still,” Rogers growled, those blue eyes blazing into you. “Don’t make me say it again.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“And you’re letting me fuck you against your own wall. So what does that make you?” His thumb pressed up against your clit- circling it with a slow, maddening care that the rest of him didn’t show. The pad of it moved in torturous little spirals, featherlight but exacting, coaxing sparks of sensation that made your knees tremble.

 The contrast was devastating. Where his thumb moved with calculated patience, his fingers drove into you with merciless rhythm, wet squelches echoing in the narrow hallway. Each curl of his fingers dragged over your most sensitive spot, and your core fluttered around him with slick, involuntary greed.  The soft grunt in his throat as he felt just how drenched you were. You whimpered, your hips grinding helplessly into his hand, overwhelmed by the brutal dichotomy of soft and hard, of care and carnality. He was claiming you in layers- one with his touch, and one with his unrelenting presence.

“What? No comeback?” he rasped, voice low and rough, threaded with need. 

You whimpered when he pulled his fingers free, already dizzy from how thoroughly he worked you open. Your hips bucked forward with a mind of their own, chasing the friction even as his touch disappeared.

Steve exhaled a shaky breath, muttering like he wasn’t talking to you- more like he was talking himself through restraint. “It’s been a long time,” he murmured. “You’re the one I call when I need something. Now I need this.”

Then you heard the sound of his zipper.

“Steve- fuck- wait-”

“You want me to stop?”

Your breath catching in your throat and the crackling hum of tension so thick it nearly choked you. "...No."

He pressed in with one brutal, punishing stroke.

You gasped, hissing and cursing at the sheer size of him. The stretch was unforgiving, a searing fullness that knocked the air from your lungs. Your walls fluttered violently around him, not ready, not even close, but he didn’t wait. He sank in like he had every right to be there, like your body had always been his to wreck.

Your muscles clenched, spasming as you tried to take him, adjust to the brutal girth. It was too much. Just the right kind of too much. Your cunt stretched tight around him, wet and tensing. 

He didn’t speak. Just groaned deep in his throat, and it vibrated through your chest like thunder. The veins in his arms flexed as he grabbed your thighs and hiked them higher, wrapping your legs around his waist. The new angle made your breath catch again as he bottomed out, your spine arching from the sheer pressure of it.

"Nnghuh! God.." 

“Christ” he whispered, voice strained but warm against your ear. “When was the last time you got fucked sweetheart? Feel tighter then a vice.”

He started slow- one, two strokes, deep and measured, like he was testing the fit, feeling how tightly your body clung to every inch of him. Like he needed to feel you tremble around him, to memorize the way you gasped and shuddered just from being filled. But then restraint gave way to desperated need.

His hips slapped against yours with each thrust, heavy and fast, until the drywall behind you trembled. The picture frame above your head rattled violently, the screws groaning in protest.

“You put my people on the line,” he muttered against your lips, voice cracking like he hated saying it. “We needed you. We trusted you. You were supposed to be our failsafe, not the reason we bled.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. A choked sound, barely audible over the rush in your ears as he pushed into you again. 

“Yeah?” he growled, grinding his hips into yours with a punishing press. “I can feel how sorry you are, sweetheart." You cried out, unable to stop the sounds ripping from your throat, a tangled mix of shock and release, like every barrier you’d built was breaking loose with each moan. It wasn’t just physical- it was every unspoken resentment, every buried guilt spilling out in raw, breathless surrender. You were a mess of broken gasps, choked pleas and moans you didn’t recognize as yours.

Your fingernails scraped across his shoulders, desperate for purchase, for something to ground you as your body struggled to keep up with what he demanded.

You reached for him blindly, nerves fraying, control slipping like sand through your fingers. He caught your hand mid-air. Laced his fingers with yours and pinned it above your head, pressing it into the wall like it was the only anchor either of you had.

“Steve...please-”

“Begging now?” he murmured, but there was no mockery in it. Just a kind of low, broken awe, like the sound of your voice was something he'd needed to hear for longer than he’d admit.

You trembled against him, your body clenching around the relentless force of him, every stroke driving deeper, harder, spearing up into the sensitive nerves that had already been teased past their limit. Each thrust was a collision of heat and pressure, his cock thick and unrelenting, dragging along your swollen walls, stretching you further than you thought possible. Your wetness coated him, made the glide devastatingly smooth, and the wet slap of skin echoed through the hall in time with your stuttering gasps. Every impact made your spine arch, your breath catch, your mind blur. It was raw. Carnal. The head of his cock kissed something inside you that made your vision white out for a moment, made you choke on his name like it was the only anchor you had. Your body didn’t know how to handle it. Both overstimulated and overwhelmed, nerves fried by the bruising rhythm and the fullness that never let up, never relented. He was everywhere; inside you, against you, all-consuming and there was no escape you wanted.

His breath turned ragged at your ear, voice thick and heavy. “That's right, squeeze me, good girl.” he gritted out, the strain obvious in his voice. “Gonna make you remember this.”

You didn’t respond. Couldn’t. Your throat was raw from crying out, your body alight from the firestorm building in your core. Your muscles fluttered wildly around him, unable to do anything but cling to every punishing thrust. He was burning you open from the inside out, and you welcomed the ruin.

Your orgasm slammed into you like a detonation; sharp and incandescent. A white-hot burst of sensation that tore through your core and stole the sound from your lungs. You bit down on your arm, the taste of skin grounding you as your body shook with it, walls convulsing around him like they were trying to pull him even deeper.

“Fuck- gonna come- inside- fuck-”

His words were broken now, punched out on the edge of climax. He surged forward, slamming into you one last time, hips locking as he spilled inside with a raw groan. You felt it, thick, hot, flooding you, filling every inch he’d ruined. Steve's whole body shuddered against yours, hands gripping your thighs so tight you knew he’d leave bruises.

Neither of you moved. The air around you almost crackled.

Then he pulled back, slow and unhurried. His chest lifted from yours, breath evening as if nothing had happened. Your legs slid down his hips, shaking from the effort of holding on, and you collapsed against the wall for support.

Your core throbbed in the aftermath, his cum already dripping down your inner thigh, sticky and unmistakable.

And without a word, turned and walked into your bedroom.

Like it was his.

And you let him.

You could bring yourself to follow him into the bedroom. Instead, you grab a blanket, soft, worn, one that still smelled faintly like him, though you weren’t sure if it was from the fabric or from the way your skin still remembered his touch. You wrapped yourself in it like armour and collapsed on the couch. Not because it was comfortable. You need the space. You need something that still feels like a boundary. A line he hadn’t crossed. Yet.

You expect him to leave in the morning.

He didn't 

Instead you woke up to Rogers in your kitchen. Shirtless. Calm. Like it’s his kitchen and you were guest.  The light from the window catches on the line of his shoulder, casting warm gold against skin, highlighting the tension still wound through muscle and bone. You couldn’t help but track the way it moved across him, softening the sharpness of his frame just enough to make him look human again. That flicker of warmth shouldn’t have affected you, but it did. It made something ache- deep and stupid- in your chest, like the sight of him untouched by shadow was a lie your body still wanted to believe.  Even the sight of his hair is still damp from a shower, curling slightly at the edges did something to you.

“I’ll be here a while,” he says simply, not even turning to look at you.

You open your mouth, close it again. Looking at the floor. There’s a new weight to the room. Steve then he sets a plate down in front of you on the coffee table. Toast and hot steaming mug of coffee beside it.  Looking up at him Steve looked different today. Softer. Probably because he’d worked off the chip on his shoulder when he was slamming into you. 

“Like you said... Ross is in the city,” he started taking a seat next to you.  “Not safe to go out." 

The words hit like punch, knocking the wind out of you. 

You felt boxed in, your own home suddenly smaller. Ross outside, danger circling. Steve inside, tension curling in your gut. Trapped with the thrum of last night’s tension still beating behind your ribs.

Steve didn't press, just nudging the plate closer with steady fingers

“Eat,” he said, voice low but firm. “Then you’re in the shower.”

And for some reason, you listened.

[ktficworld]

Jewel

Prologue

Pairing: Steve Rogers x f!reader, bucky barnes x f!reader (possibly dark)

Summary: World has collapsed and Hydra took over with Steve Rogers as the head. He gave people everything except freedom. But your normal life is thrusted into chaos as you are taken to the pleasure district where politics, power struggle and survival lied beneath the glamor. Would be able to survive the ruthlessness of this new world or lead a life in the shadows.

Warnings: Kidnapping, prostitution, dark themes including dark love interests, 18+

A/N: I just couldn't help. This idea won't leave my mind. I hope you will like it, my writing skills are a little rusty as I am posting a fic after almost a year.

You jostled as the bus hit a bump, making you clutch your bag harder in an effort to balance yourself. Glancing out of the window, you squinted your eyes at the harsh sunlight, the summer season was slowly becoming into full force.

You pressed your hands to your burning cheeks, at least you didn't have to deal with the scorching heat in the winters, whoever said that summer was their favourite, they were lying. Working would be more difficult now.

You snapped your eyes down as women in black tactical gear made their way through the city, eyes sharp and observant for their new 'jewel'.

The bus gradually came to a halt as your office came into view. You smoothed down your ivory dress, paid your fare and stepped out, your heels crunching on the freshly made pavement. Your eyes fell on the women in black unform again making you crumpled your dress into your fist and trudged towards your office with your head down.

The tall trees bellowed in the gust of wind that were planted as road dividers. There was much more greenery now. There was no place left without. No ruckus or fights happened it public spaces. Everyone was quiet now, everyone followed the rules to the tee because they were aware of the examples.

So much had changed in the last five years, the snapped that brought people back destroyed the world again as the population skyrocketed, leading to starvation, homelessness, poverty and other various problems. The governments collapsed, not just few, but entire world collapsed and hydra took over.

Not the fascist hydra but a hydra captured and made by Steve Rogers. Who would have thought that the man preaching for freedom would morph into a ruthless dictator? Who would have thought that the Natasha who suffered so much as a woman would deal other women with the same faith? Who would have thought that the once tormented and brainwashed Bucky would become winter solider again by his own volition? But it happened.

People had everything they ever wanted, except freedom.

There was nothing other then hydra and its rule all over the world, nothing really changed for you though. You still went to work, still paid your bills, still supported your parents whenever they needed you. You now just had to steer clear of the black widows.

It was scary at first but you have made your peace with it. You didn't wear makeup, didn't wear nice clothes, didn't leave the house till it was absolutely necessary and overall lived in the shadows. You didn't want to lose your life.

You pushed open the glass door and sighed in relief when the cool AC air of the office hit your warm body. Skirt fluttering with each step as you neared your desk, you deposited your bag on the desk and sat down, bracing yourself for the long day.

"You're late?" Martha, the lady who sat beside you chided, though the concern was thinly veiled. She was a woman in her late 50s, on the brink of retirement. She was the mother hen of the office and why wouldn't she? She radiated warmth like sun on a chilly day.

"Yeah, the bus was late, a flat tire." You said with a smile as she handed you her signature tea.

"You should carpool with colleagues. I know owning a car is not good for safety but carpooling can do. I was so worried when you didn’t arrive on time." She suggested, adjusting her glasses.

Of course she was worried, anyone with an ounce of care for women would. But you heaved a sigh and shook my head. "Carpool with who? Female colleagues? That would just make us an easy target and male colleagues also don't make me feel comfortable. At least in a bus, there are many different people, making it difficult to manipulate or threaten them."

Her eyed softened as she regarded you, her green eyes amplified by her glasses. "Honey, you should get married."

Not again.

"Martha, it won't really make a difference. I have seen them capture married women." You argued. Blowing the tea and taking a sip.

"But that is significantly less compared to single women like you. They don't want used goods for their harem."

You grimaced at the ruthless objectively but she was correct. "I have no prospects. I don’t leave my house unless absolutely necessary." You murmured.

"Then you should go out and have prospects. It's dangerous out there, honey, especially for pretty girls like you." She fussed and turned on her laptop, prompting me to fo the same.

You chuckled at the praise and shook your head. "Thanks for the compliment Martha but I have been pretty invisible throughout my life, even when I didn't dress like a granny to avoid black widows."

"All I'm saying is that you need to be safe and being alone, without a man is very unsafe." She advised.

You sighed and gave a reluctant nod. "I'll try, now let's get to work our deadline is close." You said and turned to your laptop. Martha let out a surprised hum as if she had forgotten that she was at work.

You did your work diligently, reviewed files, took notes and worked on the impending project. As much as you liked technology, staring at the laptop screen for eight hours straight made your head pound and eyes water from fatigue and glare, you just wanted to go home and sleep now.

Thankfully, 10 to 12 hours shift were gone now as overtime was increased by the government and companies didn't want to pay for some extra work, they just increased the work load for the working hour instead.

Rubbing your tired eyes, you turned off the laptop and slung your bag on your shoulder on 6. p.m sharp. Walking out of the office, you waited for your bus to arrive. You hovering by the office guard to not be alone.

After waiting for 15 minutes, the distinct horn of the bus caught attention as you waved the guard goodbye and stepped inside the red double-decker bus and took a seat in a secluded area so that no one would try to strike up a conversation.

You stifled a yawn and jerked your head violently to keep yourself from falling asleep. You didn't want to miss your stop or wake up in an unknown room.

Your wrapped your arms around you suddenly, your eyes flitted around the bus and outside. Nothing. Your stomach churned and you shrunk in your seat. Was someone watching you?

You shook your head. No, you were just being paranoid. But the feeing just wouldn't go away so you pulled out your phone and earphone, jazz filling your eyes as you hummed to the lyrics.

The music made the bus ride home fleeting as only a few specks of sunshine was left on the horizon. You clicked the pause button on the current song and moved in front of the bus as your apartment neared.

You paid the due fare and and left the bus. You shuddered, heart beat quickening and breath shortening into huffs as the same feeling of being watched permeated through your body.

You didn't get the chance to process it or check your surroundings as a SUV pulled up, someone gripped your waist from behind. A scream tore out of your lungs as the prickling pain of a needle hit your neck.

The world blurred, dark dots swimming in front of you as you desperately tried to claw at your awareness but you were loosing the battle. Your eyes were shutting down, your body was going lax, and your mind was saying just to give up and to the drift into keep you wanted for so long. So, you did.

You were shoved inside the black SUV, door slamming shut as a nonchalant voice chirped before everything went raven.

"Finally, found her..."

[thezombieprostitute]

Your Champion: Introductions

Summary: Former boxing champion Steve Rogers gets a new life as a collector for the mob.

A/N: Inspired by a tag I received from @alexakeyloveloki

A/N2: Part of the Yours AU.

Warnings: Implied abuse, Violence. Please let me know if I missed any! There will be non/dub con later in the series.

"It's not what you know, it's who you know" is one of the biggest truths in Steve's life. He was in and out of trouble pretty much every day of his life until he met up with Fury. Fury got him off the streets and into the ring. He became a champion. And he couldn't be bought.

That's how he met Bucky. Bucky was an up-and-comer in a new gang that was steadily building power. He'd made a lot of money betting on Steve. He regularly bet on him when he'd learned that Steve was approached by other gangs, trying to rig the match, but had thrown them all out on their ass. Bucky respected that.

Unfortunately the representatives of those other gangs didn't care for how they were treated. Steve was ambushed, taking a major beating, and a couple bullets, that left him unable to ever fight in the ring again.

When he was healed up, Bucky offered him a job as a collector. Easy money, easy work, and he'd be taken care of. Nick liked that Steve was a man of integrity and approved the hiring. Steve was the one that took some convincing. Only after he was shown how Fowler was investing money in actually taking care of the community, that protection money actually got people protection, did he agree to the job.

Soon he learned another benefit of the job: he could punch bullies and abusers without reproach.

Which is how he met you.

Your father was a gambling addict and a thief. If you'd ever had anything of value it'd been stolen and pawned off to fuel his bad habits. Every penny you made working at the grocery store had to be spent on food and bills before he remembered it was payday. If he even thought you were holding out on him he'd fly into a rage. You couldn't afford any more hospital visits so you had to give him what he wanted.

You were making your nightly meal of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with a small yogurt, your biggest meal of the day, when the door suddenly burst in. You screamed in surprise as your father shouted and started to get out of his recliner. He'd barely gotten out of his chair before he was pushed back down by a tall blond man. You curled up into a ball, too scared to do anything.

"You owe Fowler a lot of money," the blond tells your father.

"I can pay it, I promise! I've had a lucky streak---" Your father is cut off by a backhand to the face. You whimper as you see the blood from his split lip.

At the sound the blond turns to you. "Who are you?"

You manage to stutter out your name.

"You his girl?"

"His daughter."

"You want her? Take her!" your father is quick to add. "Take her to pay off my debts!"

You don't have time to register your father's words before the blond punches him so hard the recliner falls back. You start crying out of fear, covering your eyes, wishing you could just be invisible like you were to everyone else.

The blond crouches down so he's eye level with you. He's cooing, "it's okay. You're not in trouble. You're not gonna get hurt here. He'll never lay another hand on you, I promise." He takes your hands away from your face and gets a good look at you. "You work at Pete's grocery, don't you?"

Surprised, you can only nod.

"I've seen you working there," he confirms. "You work hard. Lotta hours from what I hear." Looking around the meager apartment he looks back to you, "I'm guessing he gambles it all away?"

Again, you can only nod.

He holds out his hand to you, "I'm Steve, by the way. I'm going to make sure you never have to worry about anyone like your father ever again."

Next Chapter

Tagging: @alicedopey; @darsynia; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly; @thiquefunlover63

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

in the sugar and spice universe, the boys know that she cams and i assume that she’s aware that her roommates watch, but does she know about ransom watching?

a/n: i. am. gnawing. at. my. cage.

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

sugar & spice au masterlist | 101, intro to the au

masterlist | join my taglist

we’ve already established that his discovery of your little hobby was what ended your relationship. i imagine that he fell over your stream while just browsing for something to jerk off to and then BOOM, there you were. 

in true asshole fashion, he of course confronted you about it in a big ol fight:

“choose. come on. me or that.”

“ransom,” you sighed as he kept on pushing.

“come on,” he roared, “just pick goddamn it!”

“that!” you blurted as he kept on yelling, “i wanna keep camming!” though that statement hadn’t been what he’d predicted, “it makes me happy and you–…”

“…i don’t?”

“not lately…”

“well how else would you think i’d react to finding out my girl has secretly been whoring herself out to anyone with an internet connection?”

the slap you then crack against his cheek echoed throughout the whole room, “fuck you,” you spat, “don’t ever talk to me, don’t even look at me, ever again.”

and then you tried to stay as far away from him as possible even though i think he would have kept trying to worm his way back into your good graces (because he obviously fucked up)

you also moved in with steve, bucky and curtis after the breakup and i imagine they began to act as your bodyguards when it came to your ex. keeping an eye out and helping you avoid him at all costs. 

but the thing is, from the moment that he first discovered your stream, and honestly also as a way to lick his wounds post-breakup, he kept going back to it, kept opening up the website till it was permanently open on his phone, always ready for when you went live or posted something (a pic or vid or just flirty message)

it was like an addiction and he couldn’t stop

he wasn’t even ashamed about it because to him it was a way to keep your faded relationship alive, keep you with him and for a generous tip (which he could more than afford as the trust fund kid he was) you’d still do as he wished, still follow his sinful commands.

turn around, let me see that ass

be a good girl and turn up the speed

send me those panties after you’ve soaked them with your cream, i’ll pay double your usual rate for the underwear you sell.

did you know that TittyCokeKingXXX, one of your most loyal followers and top tippers, was your ex? hell no.

how would you finally discover his true identity? maybe it would be at a party you’re both at, a celebration after the football team’s latest victory (of which both your roomies steve and bucky are on, but unfortunately so is ransom) 

he probably gets too drunk and then the truth starts slipping out

maybe he thinks he still has a shot, but just as you turn him down, he gets petty and accidentally blurts out, “well you didn’t seem to have a problem with me last night when you were calling me sir and making yourself squirt in the shower.” 

the image of you crumbled on the tile floor, shower head blasting in your hand as you ripped it away from your overstimulated clit was still seared into his brain. tits all soapy, yet he could still make out the faint letters of the possessive scrawling he'd paid you to scribble with marker the week before reading daddy’s girl

“…how do you know that?” you uttered and he suddenly realised that he’d actually said those words out loud and not just thought them as usual, “ransom, how the fuck do you know that?”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[darkdarkstucky]

Enchanted, S. Rogers and C. Kent.

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

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader x Clark kent.

Warnings: Cursing, Angst.

A/N: imy guys!!!!!

CHAPTER FOUR

“What are you going to do, dollface?” Natasha asks, a worried frown on her face. “You know i will fully support you in whatever decision you make, but i worry about you.”

This is the only life you know about; Were the words left unsaid. Safe in their arms and shielded from the horrors of the world, you were carefully treasured at the palm of their hands, never truly knowing what it meant to suffer any form of grievance.

How will you ever live otherwise? Well, spite was a powerful thing. Heartbreak too. What do they say about women who were scorned? Never to fuck with them.

And right about now, you were feeling extremely vengeful and inclined to doing something extremely stupid. Although, for the sake of being fair and the years you shared with your husbands, you were leaning towards a peaceful resolution. One that was being refuted by the small voice you tempered down with reason.

The tears have gone dry, and the omega inside of you was itching for revenge. Wanting to give your alpha's a new one. A reason for them to truly look the other way.

She surprised you. Normally, she takes their side no matter what happened. Never finding fault with Steve nor Clark, always whining for their attention and barely holding any sort of grudge. But now she's steaming with anger and egging you on to abandon their sorry asses.

You figured it was a betrayal that ran deeper than flesh. You were on the prepice of being replaced, of being abandoned. Your base instinct was rebelling against the idea of being tossed aside, and urging you to flee before you truly get replaced. A self preservation instinct, if you will.

“To be honest, i don't know either.” You whisper, biting your lower lip in thought. “They have told me absolutely nothing. Acting as if i was a merely a decoration in their lives. It's so frustrating because they treat me as if i don't matter, like i was a stranger in my own home.”

Natasha bites her lower lip, sitting herself close to you and holding your hands in earnest. "Tell me how to help you."

Your shoulders were tense and your expression quickly shifted from that of hurt and heartbreak, to a blank one. Determination was squarely set in your gaze as you come up with a resolution for you.

"I need to leave."

***

"I could kill you." Steve's booming baritone welcomes Clark as he pressed the phone to his ears. He expected the other Alpha to have a good nose when it came to such things; all matters concerning you were their top priority so it didn't come as a shock.

Clark maintains he'd never do anything to hurt you, and that oath holds him true to this day. Yet the circumstance had him on a short, tight leash in navigating that promise. He was duty bound, no matter how cruel it sounded.

An omega just for him. One that was his genetic match. In paper.

"Nice of you to check in." He waves the rest of his staff away, knowing the conversation to be personal with threats of every kind being thrown about in the mix.

"You better have a good reason as to why you're housing a bitch." Steve bit the word off like he was utterly disgusted, and a growl ripped through Clark's chest.

"Mind your words, brother." He warns, jaw clenching. No matter how mild-tempered he was, the other alpha's implication had him defensive. He rested his back on the swivel chair, sighing "I don't take kindly at your implication."

"I'm not implying anything, Kent." Steve hisses, "I can take my wife away. Make it so you'd never even see her—"

"I dare you, Rogers." Clark tenses, the menacing growl cutting through the silence in his office. "She is as much bound to me in matrimony."

Steve and Clark were both powerful in their own right— their wealth and affluence were second to none, and they were the unspoken kings of New York. While they exercise dominance in many aspects of their life, it would be unlikely they bring the same menacing attitude home.

No, at home, they were merely your husbands. Parallel in their desire to keep you satisfied and happy, like any alpha with their bonded mate. Their base instincts craved to see you comfortable, well loved and safe under their careful care.

It was as surprising to the rest of the world when such dominant alphas could share a sole omega; even so, because Steve and Clark barely intersected if not on a business setting. While sharing among packs were commonplace, neither Alpha's belonged in the same faction, with Clark being hailed from Smallville and Steve in Brooklyn.

They were as civilized as they come. Polite, educated, over-achieving faces of their prime designation. However, anybody would tell you that propriety and forgiveness does not hold any single ounce of sway in their lives once somebody as much steps on their toes.

Being possessive and selfish came with that territory, so while their arguements were few and far between— measured and handled with like responsible adults, there had indeed been times where they almost rip eachother's head off unbeknownst to you.

"You have to believe that i have her best interest in my heart." Clark grounds out, trying to temper down an outburst. He tries his best to rationalize; He wasn't trying to justify a so called affair to him, or get away with something unspeakable.

Clark knows he would react the same, if not with a tentative explosion aimed to snuff out Steve; he shared the same protectiveness when it came to you, afterall, yet he was designated to become the necessary evil in the grand scheme of things. He needed to be the executioner of the dirty work lest... lest it touches you.

"Trust me." Clark emphasizes, tone set with certainty and self-assurance; his was a confidence that had won him everything in life. "You know as much as i do what needs to be done."

There was a pause in the other line.

"Make it quick." Steve's agreement was strained, a hint of relent in his visage. Things had spiralled out of their control a few dozen things ago, and he was desperate to have a shred of control. "It does not touch her, Kent. Not ever."

"You don't need to tell me twice." Came his prompt response, "Safe skies, then. You wouldn't want me to have all the fun, do you?"

[biteofcherry]

I know ttd Steve is dark and not soft but I loved that short fic about Princess gaving period and him kind of taking care if her. So I'm begging for another scrap of some care for Princess 🥺 The smallest speck please. I swear him bringing her a cupcakes will be enough to have me melting.

Haha, yeah, TTD Steve is a dark bastard, but he's also a smooth fucker who has shown some almost-soft moves 😎 like the period thing, or him having lunch delivered to her to work. I also plan some special treats for the next chapters.

But okay, for now, let me floor you with this out of the blue scene:

You paced. Back and forth.

For the first time in your life, you couldn't stay still. Anxiety was ripping you apart, causing your heart to pound so hard you could barely breathe.

You weren't such a wreck even when facing the doom of marriage to the most ruthless mob boss. The man who was completely composed, while your world was crumbling at the edges.

Steve remained a fucking unmovable iceberg.

A part of you hated him for it, but there was a part of you that made ran to that coldness like moth to a flame.

You crossed the waiting room to where he was standing, typing on his phone with one hand and ignoring the sorrow that was clogging the space.

"He'll be okay, right?" You stood so close to him, toes of your shoes kissing the edge of Steve's black combat boots.

Steve didn't put his phone down, but his gaze flicked up to you. A glint of displeasure cut through his blue eyes at seeing your distress.

"You heard the doctors." He replied, his calm tone somehow anchoring you. "Your father is in critical state, but they are the best specialists-"

"I need you to tell me he'll be okay!" You blurted out in a nearly hysterical tone, suddenly gripping the fabric of his shirt.

Steve's eyebrows pulled into a frown. Without taking his eyes off of you, he locked the screen on his phone and slid it into his back pocket.

"You want me to placate you with bullshit reassurances?" His tone held no malice, rather surprise. You always shown yourself as holding to logic, science and that stubborn polished composure he loved to fuck out of you.

"I'd think you wanted more objective information from the medical staff."

"I-" you hesitated, looking at Steve with eyes shiny with tears.

Steve was right. But it seemed to be your modus operandi for other situations, not when your father was on the operating table. You didn't want logic now. You wanted something more powerful than death itself.

Your husband.

"I need you to tell me my dad will be okay. But not to placate me." You replied, softer, and leaned closer to Steve.

"I need you to say it, because you're Steve Rogers. What you say, becomes law. What you demand, happens."

He made no sound, but his chest expanded slightly as if he took a sharp intake of breath. A second later his hand slid to the back of your neck, squeezing it gently.

"Your father will make it." Steve said in that deep, firm voice of his. "He'll be okay. If needed, I'll have a talk with his heart myself."

A broken, quiet laugh bubbled on your lips at his ridiculous threat. But, God, it made you feel lighter. Before you knew what was happening, you were pressing yourself into his arms, hiding your face in Steve's chest.

His hand on your neck gave another tender squeeze, while his other wrapped around your waist.

[mercurial-chuckles]

Hi! For your smutty September fest I'd like to request 6) marathon session (they just fucking keep going, babyyyy), and the pairing Steve Rogers x reader, please 🥺

Thank you for sending in the ask 🩷Apologies for how long it took, love!

Pairing: Husband!Steve Rogers x F!Reader Summary: Steve has gone feral, and you are the only one who can calm him. Warnings: Minors DNI | Feral Steve | Slightly dark Steve | Possessive husband Steve | Smut galore | Semi public smut | Stuntish smut | A load of fluff in the end | Language | Lemme know if I'm missing anything. A/N: I've refurbished and rewritten this fic for SMUT-BER FEST | It was originally part of Steve Rogers Bingo Round 3 with the prompt: Multiple Orgasms. But this fit perfectly for your ASK. Hope you enjoy it! @nekoannie-chan 🥹🫂✨

Read Berserk Captain Rogers!

PS: I'm whimpering in shame at the filth I've spewed. 🤭

[shybluebirdninja]

Ownership

Summary: You agreed to one night, but Bucky has other plans, making it clear he’s going to keep you—and he wants you carrying his baby.

Pairings           : Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Note               : non-consensual behavior, forced pregnancy

The air in the room is heavy, thick with unspoken tension. Bucky stands in the doorway, his massive frame dominating the space, eyes dark and predatory. He’s watching you, that familiar smirk playing on his lips. It’s unsettling how calm he is, like he’s got all the time in the world. Like he knows exactly how this is going to play out.

“Why you standin’ over there like you got a choice, doll?” His voice is low, gravelly, and it hits you straight in the chest. “C’mere.”

You hesitate, trying to remember the rules you both set. One night. That’s it. But the look in his eyes says different. There’s no way you’re walking out of here without something much heavier hanging over you—without him making sure his mark on you is permanent.

“I said, come here,” Bucky’s tone darkens, a rough edge creeping in, and your body reacts before your brain does, your feet moving toward him. His metal arm reaches out, pulling you flush against his chest, and fuck, the heat coming off him makes your pulse race.

“I’m not letting you go, y’know that, right?” His breath is hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “This ain’t some casual thing. You’re mine. And I’m gonna make sure you know it.”

His hand slides down your back, rough fingertips brushing against the bare skin under your shirt, making you shiver. He smirks when he feels it, gripping your waist harder, like he owns every inch of you. In his mind, he does.

“Bucky,” you whisper, your voice trembling.

“Shh,” he growls, his lips brushing against your neck. “I’m gonna take my time with you. Make sure it sticks this time. You’re not walkin’ outta here without somethin’ of mine.”

You can feel the power in his body as he presses against you, the steel in his grip, and the raw desire pouring off him in waves. You try to push back, but his grip tightens, his metal hand circling around your throat—enough to hurt, enough to remind you who’s in charge.

“You agreed to one night,” he whispers, lips dragging over your skin, teasing. “But I’m not a man of half-measures, sweetheart. You’re not leaving here until I’ve put a baby in you. Until I know I’ve claimed you for good.”

Your heart pounds, his words sinking deep into your bones.

“You... you don’t have to—” you start, but he cuts you off with a dark chuckle.

“Don’t gotta do a damn thing. But I want to.” His lips curl into a smirk, and he lifts you off the ground like you weigh nothing, carrying you to the bed. The room spins for a second, and then you’re beneath him, pinned by his weight, his hands already working to pull your clothes off, rough and demanding.

His lips crash into yours, claiming, devouring, and you can’t help but moan into the kiss as his tongue pushes past your lips. His hands grip the waistband of your jeans, yanking them down without a care, shredding any barriers between you.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he growls, running his hands over your now-bare thighs, squeezing, as if memorizing the shape of you. “Gonna ruin you, doll. Gonna make sure you never forget who you belong to.”

You’re panting, barely able to think straight as his mouth trails down your body, his breath hot against your skin. His metal arm holds you in place, cold against the burning heat coursing through you, while his other hand grips your thighs, spreading them apart like it’s his goddamn right.

“You like this, don’t you?” he teases, voice dripping with that rough, dominant tone. “You like the way I fuckin’ own you.”

His fingers tease you for only a second before he thrusts them inside, rough and unrelenting, stretching you out in a way that makes you arch your back, a cry ripping from your throat.

“Bucky!”

“That’s right, baby,” he smirks, his fingers working faster, deeper, curling inside you just to hear you scream again. “You’re fuckin’ mine.”

He pulls his fingers out and replaces them with himself, pushing into you with a rough, demanding thrust that has you seeing stars. Every muscle in his body is taut, coiled with tension, and you can feel how fucking hungry he is for you. The pace is slow at first, teasing, but you know it’s only a matter of time before he loses control.

“You think I’m gonna let you go after this?” he growls, his hips snapping against yours, hard and rough. “Nah, baby. You’re stuck with me. Gonna fill you up until you’re pregnant. You’re gonna carry my kid, and I’m gonna make sure of it.”

His words send a fresh wave of heat crashing through you, and you can’t stop the moan that escapes your lips, the way your body responds to his every move. He’s relentless, his pace brutal, pounding into you like it’s the only thing that matters, and in this moment, it is.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groans, his voice raw with desire. “So tight. You’re gonna take every fuckin’ inch of me, and you’re gonna thank me when I’m done.”

You can barely breathe, barely think as he keeps thrusting into you, harder, deeper, making sure you feel every inch of him. He leans down, his lips ghosting over your ear.

“I’m gonna fill you up, baby. Gonna make you mine in every fuckin’ way. You’re gonna carry my kid, and you’re gonna love every second of it.”

You can feel yourself unraveling beneath him, your body tightening around him as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he groans, his thrusts becoming erratic, desperate. “Cum for me. Cum all over my cock. Let me feel you fall apart.”

You shatter beneath him, your body convulsing as pleasure crashes over you like a wave, and he doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow down. He just keeps fucking you, riding you through your orgasm, determined to make this last.

When he finally lets go, he slams into you one last time, burying himself deep inside you, and you can feel the hot rush of his release as he fills you.

“Good girl,” he whispers, his voice rough and breathless. “Now you’re mine. And you’re not going anywhere.”

[krirebr]

Welcome to Your Life

Pairing: dark vampire!Steve Rogers x f!reader

Word Count: ~3.75k

Summary: During a drunken night out on vacation, you're brought to a strange club and presented to a mysterious man. Part of Everybody Wants to Rule the World

Warnings: Horror elements, dark elements, mind control, some blood and gore, feeding on humans, captivity, dub/con, SMUT - All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Divider by @saradika

We're All Monsters

Masterlist

A/N: And here it is, the first part of Vampire Steve's solo story! If you missed his introduction, it was in I Can't Sleep Cause My Bed's On Fire. You don't need to read that before you read this, but some of the world-building (specifically how his club works) might be helpful. Plus, it's a vampire threesome, so 🥵🥵🥵

This is also the first part of the new, super-expanded supernatural universe that I'm doing with @paperweight91, playing off of what I started with my Psycho Killer AU. Big thanks to Chelsea for all her help on this and for just how much fun it's been to come up with ideas with her for this whole universe.

Now, where it might get slightly confusing, but I really hope it doesn't. This story introduces a new character, Cutter, who will eventually be a reader in one of Chelsea's stories in her werewolf half of this au. She is not physically described at all here, other than being a woman. I hope it gets you excited about what @paperweight91 has in store for her.

As always, any comments, reblogs, or asks are very appreciated. You know how much I love this Steve. Please come screech with me about him!!!

You were shaking. That was the only thing you knew. You didn’t know where you were or what you were doing there. Not even how you’d gotten there, just that you were standing in the back room of some club, surrounded by people—were they people? Of course, they were. What else could they be?!—unable to move, and you couldn’t stop shaking.

You’d been on vacation with some friends in Berlin. You’d all decided to have a wild night out together but were quickly separated. While tipsily searching for them at a club, you’d bumped into a man, an American, who told you his name was Cole. And suddenly, looking for your friends didn’t seem as important. He’d told you he knew a great bar just a few blocks away. You didn’t really remember agreeing to go with him, but now you were here, in a room full of strangers who wouldn’t stop leering at you. No one had done anything or even said anything, but you knew in your bones that you were not safe. And yet, you couldn’t move.

Cole, especially, wouldn’t take his eyes off you, your neck in particular. You desperately wished for something to cover up your club attire. A woman was leaning against the wall in the corner, sharpening her ridiculously long nails with a knife. She looked up occasionally, and this time her gaze landed on Cole, a scowl on her face. “You know he gets first taste,” she said, before looking back down in disinterest.

“I know,” he said, his fingers drumming impatiently on his thigh.

“Everything has to get his approval before it goes on the menu,” she continued, still not looking up as she filed her nails to a terrifying point. 

“Yes,” Cole gritted out, “I know that, Cutter. I’m not fucking new.”

“Then stop acting like you’re jonesing for your next fix. You’re that fucking hungry? Go get yourself something to eat that actually is on the menu.” Nothing they were saying made any sense. 

He scowled at her, but started to leave the room, and then, suddenly, stopped. Everyone stopped. Cutter looked up, listening for something, then pushed herself off the wall and made her way over to you. She brushed one of her exceedingly sharp nails over your bottom lip. Looking you in the eye, she breathed, “Kneel, sweetheart.” And you were on your knees before you had any idea what had happened. She smiled at you and added, “Be quiet,” and you knew, in every cell, that you wouldn’t have been able to make any noise if you’d tried. 

One of the doors opened and a tall, broad, beautiful man came into the room and you felt the energy of everything change. It was like it was all, yourself included, suddenly charged with electricity. You’d never felt anything like it. He zeroed in on you instantly and made his way over. You felt the instinct to cower, but it was far away, almost like it was behind a wall. And you still couldn’t move anyway. All you could do was shiver.

The man looked at you carefully. “Pretty,” he said, absently. He brushed his thumb over your lower lip just like Cutter had. Then he gripped your chin and angled it up so you were forced to make eye contact. “Give me your wrist,” he said and you couldn’t explain the feeling that moved through your body, only that you reached your wrist up to him, you had to, and waited for him to take it. He took it in his firm grip and placed his thumb right over your pulse point. He pressed down hard and smiled when you still didn’t move, didn’t react. It was like you didn’t know how. And then, something happened, so quickly you couldn’t process it. Fangs descended into his mouth and he lowered his head to your wrist and bit down hard. It was some of the worst pain you’d ever felt, but you didn’t pull away, didn’t make a sound. It wasn’t until you felt the wetness on your cheeks that you even realized you were crying. It was like all the different parts of you were separated. 

He pulled his teeth from your wrist and then licked the wound clean. He grinned at you and said, “You have excellent taste in cocktails, honey.” Then he looked over at Cutter and his smile dropped. “She’s still drunk. You should have known better.”

Her mouth fell open, and then she flung her hand out at Cole who stood sheepishly on the other side of the room. “Cole’s the one who brought her in!”

He was in front of her in a blink, the arm that was still in the air now in his firm grasp. She grimaced. “And you know exactly how good his judgment is,” he growled.

“Steve,” she whispered, just barely loud enough for you to hear her.

The man (could you even call him that? Deep down you knew what he was), Steve, brought his face as close to hers as possible. “When I put you in charge,” he said, so lowly, “I expect you to be in charge.”

She just stared at him for a moment meeting his gaze, then dropped her own and nodded. He smiled fondly, you were surprised to see, and kissed her on the cheek. “You know he needs supervision.”

He made his way back to where you were still kneeling, now cradling your arm. He bent down to you slightly and stroked a hand down your neck. “There’s something there, though,” he said, although you weren’t sure who he was talking to. Certainly not to you. “Underneath everything else. I’ll try her again tomorrow and see how she is when the blood’s pure.”

You gazed up at him, confused, and he gripped your chin in his hand. “You may speak,” he said.

“I don’t understand what’s happening,” was all you could manage.

“Oh honey, of course, you don’t,” he said with a grin that frightened you. “The good news is that you’ll never need to understand anything ever again.” He looked back up at the room at large. “Set her up in a room upstairs.” He released your chin and made his way to the exit, pausing as he was almost out the door to call “Cole!” over his shoulder. The other man quickly followed him out of the room.

Cutter came to stand in front of you. She looked you in the eye and said, “Up,” and without thinking, you were on your feet. “Such a good girl,” she cooed. “Follow me,” and suddenly that was all you wanted to do.

The room she took you to was better described as a cell. There was a cot, a toilet, and a sink. No windows. Painted grey. It was tiny. Cutter left as soon as you were inside and you heard the door lock behind her. 

You sat down on the bed and closed your eyes. You felt the urge to panic but it was like your body wouldn’t cooperate. Your heart rate stayed steady, your breaths even. You were calm, even if that was the last thing you wanted to be. 

These people must have done something to you. People, right. You knew what they were. Every single one of them had stared at your neck. Steve had fangs and he’d literally drank your blood. You knew, even if an hour ago you would’ve sworn that was just fantasy. Vampires. You were being held captive by vampires. What the hell?

There was nothing to occupy your time in here except for your thoughts, so you curled up on the cot and tried to convince yourself that it was all a bizarre dream. Eventually, your exhaustion overtook you and you fell asleep. 

You weren’t sure when exactly you woke up. You hadn’t seen a single window since Cole had brought you into the building last night. Because sunlight kills vampires, you thought to yourself, somewhat hysterically. Your memories of the night before were… weird. And not just because you swear someone drank your blood. They were patchy. And yes, you’d been drunk, but not that drunk. Not so drunk that you blacked out small portions of the night. And certainly not so drunk that you hallucinated vampires. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. There was no way out of the cell. Nothing in it that would help you. All you could do was wait for whatever it was that was coming for you.

Sometime later, hours probably, a slit in the door you hadn’t noticed before was opened, and a tray was slid through. Food. You gathered it quickly and sat on the bed. There was a carton of water and a plate with a large salad that was mostly made up of spinach and lentils. Iron-rich food, your mind supplied. The previous night seemed more and more real.

.You thought about refusing the salad, but you were so hungry, so you ate it. It was surprisingly good, but not what you would have chosen for what would probably be your last meal. You lay back down when you were finished, curled up on your side, and daydreamed of something more satisfying than a spinach salad. 

More time passed. You stared at the walls and tried not to freak out. You wondered if your friends had made it back to the hotel. How long it took for them to realize you were missing. Were the police searching for you? Did your family know? You couldn’t help it when the tears started. You were pretty sure you were going to die here.

You dozed in and out for who knows how long. And then the door opened. Steve walked in with Cole behind him, carrying a chair. You jolted up and pressed yourself into the wall. “Stop,” Steve said, and everything did. “Calm down,” and you felt everything in your body slow. Suddenly, you couldn’t access whatever it was that you’d been so scared of. So you sat still and watched him. 

Cole handed Steve the chair and he placed it in front of your cot. He sat down and looked at you. His gaze made you feel so small. He reached out his hand and brushed the backs of his fingers against your knee. A chill ran up your spine, not just fear, but an excitement too, that you couldn’t explain. “Give me your other wrist,” he said, lowly, and you immediately did. He took it in his hand and brought it up to his nose, forcing you to lean forward. He inhaled deeply. “Much better,” he said. “You’re all sobered up now, aren’t you?”

You didn’t respond. You knew, deep inside yourself, that he didn’t want you to. His fangs dropped and you braced yourself, something in the far recesses of your mind knowing that you should be scared. With a slight grin, he sank his teeth into your wrist. The pain was just as bad as the night before but soon, so much quicker than the last time, it was over and Steve was pulling away, his eyes still locked on you.

“Shit,” he breathed.

“What?” Cole asked, from his place by the door. “She’s that bad?”

“No,” Steve growled. “She tastes like sunshine.” He stood up and leaned over you, running the back of one finger across your cheek. “Precious thing.”

You looked up at him and blinked. “Please,” you said, “please, I want to go home.”

“No, honey,” he cooed, so gently, “you’ll never go home again.” As you tried to process that through the fog, he turned to Cole. “Put her in my private reserves. I’ll have her for dinner.” And then he was out of the room.

Cole looked at you, a pout on his face. “Goddamnit,” he grumbled, “I’ve been waiting for a taste.”

“You’re gonna bite me, too?” you asked, alarmed.

He sighed. “Not anymore. I’d rather not face the true death, thanks.” He looked you in the eye. “Come with me.” 

You felt something move through you at that. There was definitely a strong urge to obey that you wouldn’t resist, but it was nothing like what you felt with Steve, or even Cutter, where it was like your body was on strings. It wasn’t a huge weakness, but you were taking note of everything at this point. 

Cole took you through a long series of hallways that you couldn’t hope to keep track of. Cole talked the whole way, mostly inane bits about his frustrations with the pecking order in whatever vampire organization this was. You marveled for a moment at the fact that you were describing something to do with mythical monsters as inane. Finally, just as you arrived at a door not dissimilar to the one you’d just come out of, he concluded with “You’re a really good listener.”

You gaped at him. What did he think was happening here? He’d targeted you, done something to you to bring you here where you were trapped and probably going to die and he thought you cared that he didn’t feel respected enough by his fellow monsters???

But staying alive right now was your primary concern, so you just quietly said, “Thank you,” and let him show you into the room. 

It was much bigger than the cell, but still small, along the lines of a spacious walk-in closet. There was a plush rug under your feet, a deep rose color. A four-poster bed was to one side covered in a big, fluffy comforter that was in a lighter shade of dusty pink and piled with pillows to match. The far wall was entirely made of mahogany built-in bookcases that were completely full of books. There was a soft-looking armchair in the corner by the shelves. You turned back to Cole and asked, “What is this?”

“It’s your room,” he said with a smile. He looked you in the eye. “Now,” he said, and you felt his words travel through your body. He pointed at a door without breaking eye contact, “that’s your bathroom. You’re going to use it now to get very clean and smooth. There are lotions you’ll use after to make yourself soft. There are things in there,” he pointed to a beautiful armoire in the corner, “for you to change into when you’re done. Steve will be back in a few hours and you will be ready for him. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you said, your voice coming out of you without any conscious thought or effort, “I’ll be ready for Steve.”

“Good girl,” he said, and gently patted your cheek. He stood awkwardly, watching you, but now that the command was in you, you were focused on getting to the bathroom so you could get clean. He was in your way.

“I have to get ready for Steve,” you told him, your voice sounding oddly robotic to your own ears.

Cole blinked at you and then sighed. “Right,” he said, sounding almost forlorn. He stared at you again and then shook his head. “I’ll see you again soon,” he said, stroking one hand down your arm. And then he finally left.

It was the most luxurious shower of your life. 

When you came out of the bathroom, clean, smooth, and more moisturized than you’d ever been, you opened the armoire to find a small collection of slips in different sizes hanging in it. You found the one that would fit you best and put it on. It was black, a combination of silk and lace. It felt expensive against your skin. You searched the drawers, and next to a collection of silk briefs, you found a pair of black lace panties that would work for you. 

Once you were dressed (or as dressed as you were going to be with what was available), you moved to the bookshelves. They were chock full of every genre and category you could think of. Vaunted classics next to dime store romances. Shakespeare collections and airport schlock. You ran your fingers across the spines, when, suddenly, from behind you– 

“If there’s something you particularly enjoy, let me know and I’ll have someone get it for you.” 

You spun around to find Steve just inches from you. You hadn’t heard a noise when he’d come in. There was a coldness emanating from him that made goosebumps rise along your flesh. Your breath caught and he grinned. You inhaled and asked, “You aren’t going to kill me?”

He laughed. “Oh no, Sunshine. You’re too delicious. I’m going to be feeding from you for a long, long time.”

You tried to back up, but the wall of bookcases blocked you. You pressed yourself into it anyway. He opened his mouth and you hurried to say “Please don’t make me calm down!”

His eyes narrowed and he tilted his head to the side. “Explain,” he commanded and you were obeying before you even registered the word.

“I don’t know what you’re doing to me, but I feel it when you tell me to do things. And I– I don’t know. I don’t know.” You wanted to obey, every part of you was trying, but you had no vocabulary for any of what this was. So you were left chanting, “I don’t know,” over and over. 

“Stop,” he said, and of course, everything did. “You can feel it?” he asked. “The compulsion? You actually feel it move through your body?”

The word was new to you, but you knew what he meant. You nodded and he hummed. “Oh, you are very interesting, aren’t you, pet?” 

You didn’t say anything to that, just watched him warily. He gave you a sharklike grin that sent chills down your spine and said “Now, calm down.”

And just like before, you felt everything inside you slow. Your body sagged a bit against the shelves, no longer trying to push your way through them.

“There,” he said, cupping your face in his large hand. “Isn’t that better, little pet?”

He guided you to the armchair and sat down in it, pulling you onto his lap. You could feel the supernatural strength in his thighs as you settled on top of him, sidesaddle, as he took all of your weight without any reaction at all. He scratched his thumbnail down your jugular and you closed your eyes. “It hurts,” you said, your tone surprisingly flat for how afraid of all this you’d been just a moment before.

“Hmm?” he questioned, as he nuzzled his nose along your throat.

“When you bite me,” you said, still so calm, “it hurts so much.”

“Oh, is that all?” he asked and you could hear the smile in his voice. “Don’t worry, Sunshine, I’ll make it feel just as good for you as it will for me.”

With that, he moved one of his hands in between your legs, slowly sliding it up your thigh. His face was fully in the crook of your neck when he mumbled “Feel this,” and you felt the command vibrate through your whole body. The calmness that had flattened you faded away and you let out a little whine when his hand reached your mound. He pushed your panties to the side and slid his fingers between your folds. You gasped as he quickly found your clit, tracing slow lazy circles around it. You tried to grind down onto his hand and you felt him huff a laugh into your neck. His tongue darted out, licking a wide stripe all along your vein. You let out another whine, so desperate this time. 

He chuckled again. “I was going to make you get wet for me,” he said, as his fingers began to prod at your hole gently, his thumb still working at your clit, “but I don’t need to, do I? Or at least, not with my voice.” He was right, you were already soaking, and there was no resistance as he slipped one finger inside of you. You squirmed against his hand and he added another finger. 

His mouth was still on your neck, lapping and nipping at your jugular, but he hadn’t sunk his teeth in yet. He scissored his fingers for a moment, stretching you so good that you cried out before he added a third. They stroked inside your walls, looking for your spot. He found it and you threw your head back. 

“Come on,” he growled, “give me what I need.” He curled his fingers, scraping against that place inside you just right. You screamed as you were thrown over the edge of your orgasm and that’s the moment he finally sunk his fangs into your neck. You felt it, you did. The pain was just as intense as before but mingled with some of the strongest pleasure you’d ever felt, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Your body spasmed around his fingers as he loudly sucked from your neck. You swore that you could feel the blood rushing to both places. You babbled as you coasted along the waves of your orgasm, feeling like it would never end. Even as the aftershocks quieted and slowed down, his mouth was still latched to your neck, taking what he needed from you. Your body was fully collapsed into his now. Everything offered up for the taking. 

Finally, his teeth left you and he gently licked the blood from your skin. He slowly removed his fingers from you and you whined at the emptiness. He brought them up to your lips. “Clean up your mess,” he commanded and your mouth dropped open without thinking. He slid his fingers in and you swirled your tongue around them. You tasted yourself, sweet and musky, as you sucked him clean. He pulled them out with a soft pop and wiped them on the bodice of your slip. 

You looked at his face. He still had your blood on his lips. You felt the odd urge to kiss him but didn’t have the chance as he pushed you off his lap. Your knees buckled, too weak to stand. He laughed gently, like you might at a cute animal that was struggling, as he lifted you into his arms and carried you to the bed. He laid you down and tucked you in. “Rest up, Sunshine,” he cooed, and your body did as it was told, quickly sinking into sleep. “I’ll be back for more soon.”

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