#dark steve x reader

[sosa2imagines]

Yours, ours, mine.

Imagine you are Bucky's wife. Steve has retired. He came back, after returning the stones. He gave Sam the shield. Steve lives with you and Bucky.

The more Steve sees you and Bucky, the more he pictures such life for himself. He fucks around with random girls. But all he can imagine is your face. Moaning your name, everytime he comes.

You roam freely in the house, having no clue about Steve's fascination with you.

He has set a camera in your bedroom. He jerks himself to the sight, of you and Bucky having sex. He is obsessed with your curves and figure. He loves seeing you naked.

When Bucky is out for work, Steve gets all touchy with you. You try to maintain distance. So he comes with a solution. He adds sleeping pills in your tea. Once you are knocked out, he sleeps next to you. Gently undresses you. Paying extra attention to your pussy, sucking your breasts like his life depends on them. Hands exploring your body, like he is worshipping you.

But he wants more. He wants to be balls deep buried in you.

He starts to gaslight Bucky. Picking up on his insecurities. "What if she gets bored of being alone for months, when you are out on missions?", "what about her needs?", "what if she finds someone else?".

Bucky pleads to him to stop. Steve assures him, he'll take care of you. Steve makes Bucky say that "Bucky himself is okay with Steve taking care of your his needs."

Bucky leaves for the mission happily, relieved his best friend will take care of you.

Steve is happy, to finally make you his.

You have no clue about this.

Good news lovelies, I have finally wrote this fic. The longest I have ever written.

Yours, ours, mine.

[kechiwrites]

property lines

dark!steve rogers x neighbour!reader

kinktober countdown: day two (facefucking).

synopsis: your neighbour is inappropriate, and you aren’t quite sure how to broach the subject.

wc: 2.2k

cw: dark content, non con, oral (male receiving), femme language + afab!reader, pet names, internal victim blaming, pet names (sweetheart), a touch of misogyny

author’s note: day 2 brings us more dark!steve, i fear i may be incapable of writing him sincerely. he’s just a little too perfect. I like to take off a bit of the shine. thank you @katsukikitten u r my muse.

Your neighbour is inappropriate, and you aren’t quite sure how to broach the subject. Mostly because you can’t be sure if he’s doing it on purpose or if he’s just overly friendly. Maybe it’s the signals you give off, bringing a plate of thick, sweet, cheesecake brownies over to the recently sold house next door, hoping to make a new connection. Suburbia can be isolating, and with all of your friends shaking ass in the city, you need to branch out. It really isn’t the kind of home you figured a single man like Steven Grant Rogers would buy, but then again, you lived in your suburban palace alone, willed to you by your late grandmother and only in need of a few renovations.

He’d been so bright, when you first met him, with a perfect white smile and twinkling blue eyes. He’d been happy to accept the desserts, even happier to return the plate a day later, extolling the praise he and his poker buddies lauded on you over the taste. You’d shrugged it off, “The least I could do for a neighbour. I’m just glad you all liked them.” 

Secretly though, the compliments had thrilled you, especially once you’d gotten a glimpse at the aforementioned “poker buddies”, the whole lot of them, handsome, built, big. All too happy to fix leaky pipes and paint fences in exchange for chocolate cream pie or a dish of homemade lasagna. But Steven  - “Steve, please”  -  was your most loyal customer, always lending a hand, pausing during his early morning jog to check up on you while you watered your flower beds, asking how your book is going, what you do in that “big old house all by yourself” when you aren’t working on “the next great American novel”, of course (his words, not yours).

It’s fine at first, a little disarming to be at the centre of his white hot attention, burning your flesh like he had you under a magnifying glass on a perfect sunny day. But eventually it’s not fine, eventually Steve Rogers takes more and more steps over the property line of overly friendly and into the front yard of wildly overbearing. Eventually, Mr. Rogers insists on weekly visits, popping into your house by using the spare key under the mat he shouldn’t even know about. Slinging his muscled arm over you during the neighbourhood block party, and your neighbour’s son’s 5th birthday party, and the Fourth of July barbeque. He fixes your car without you asking, brings in your groceries when he sees you unloading them in your driveway, brings your mail to you during his daily jog. It’s helpful sometimes, yes, but it’s also suffocating. And you were going to set him straight. You were! But it’s hard, hard to stare into the face of a suburban god, the literal king of the neighbourhood and tell him no. It’s hard to tell him that he’s making you uncomfortable, that you’d like for him to stop being so goddamn friendly all the time. 

So maybe a little of it is your fault. Maybe you should’ve been clearer on your boundaries. Maybe, when handsome, strapping Mr. Rogers came to your front door to ask you to essentially cater one of his poker nights, you shouldn’t have stayed to serve the food, playing happy little housewife in front of Steve’s friends, bringing them cold beers from the fridge and sitting next to Steve, playfully making faces at his hand, then plating up dessert when he asked you to. But it felt good to have his attention. His favour. So when “the boys” start to head home, laying praise and amazement at your feet, you’re sufficiently buttered up for Steve to ask yet another favour of you. It’s not much, of course. Just a little help with cleanup. Then he’ll escort you home himself. After all, there are some real sickos out there.

So you agree. What’s the harm, right?

The harm, it just so happens, comes quickly after you finish drying the dishes Steve washes. You slide the last plate, towel dried as best you could, into his cabinets, sighing in contentment at a job well done. The harm is when Steve turns you around and presses you against the sink, water soaking into the back of your blouse, making the fabric cling to your skin. You stay there for a minute, not processing what’s happening, ready to laugh off another inappropriate joke from Steve. 

You don’t really get the chance.

Two heavy hands clap down on your shoulders, exerting pressure on you until you crumple to the floor, knees hitting the tile of Steve's kitchen painfully. You yelp, struggling against him, pressing, then beating your fist against his tree trunk legs. 

"Stev-" you choke on his name when your neighbour unzips his trousers before you, undoes the fly of the pair you helped him pick out, with him bent over your shoulder while you held his phone, his front pressed close to your back. Pulls his half hard dick out of pants starched and pressed with the iron he'd borrowed from you because his was "on the fritz" again. 

"Open up." He cajoles, and you pin him with an incredulous, confused stare. No. No. This is all wrong. He doesn’t act like that. Steve Rogers isn’t like that.

The hand he doesn't use to stroke himself grabs your jaw, squeezing until you open your mouth, squeezing til it hurts. A sharp, purposeful punch of his hips is all it takes for him to make use of the opening. All it takes to put every little joke, boundary crossing, and stray touch into startling, horrifying perspective.

“It was the baking.” He whispers above you. “Peggy never baked, which was fine.” He sighs above you like he isn’t pistoning his cock deep into your throat with reckless abandon. “But I missed it, y’know? And you, you bake how angels ought to, sweetheart.” 

Tears stream down your face while Steve uses you, dragging your dazed, crying face back and forth on his hard-on. On a particularly strong thrust, he broaches your throat. Your eyes roll up, until he can barely see the perimeter of your irises, and you warble out a miserable moan, begging, all while wrapped around his dick, for a reprieve. Your head is pinned to the counter behind you, and even though you shove against the muscle of his thighs, Steve brooks no quarter.

“Just take it,” he coos, like he wants you to swallow cough syrup, “it’ll be over soon.” his breath stutters when your lips brush against his balls. Steve moves one of his hands to cup the back of your head, keeping you as close as possible when he comes down your throat, groaning in pleasure while you struggle to swallow stream after bitter stream of his seed, lest you choke on it or fucking drown. 

He finally releases you, and you pull back so fast you bang the back of your head on his pristine white counters. The pain radiates through your scalp, grounding you in the moment, cementing you to the spotless linoleum floor of Steve Rogers’ kitchen. You’re both panting, eager to fill your lungs with gulps of air. 

“Whew.” He sighs, hands on his hips, like that took a lot out of him. “I didn’t mean to get so rough with you, just didn’t expect the struggle.” He chuckles, patting you on the head. “But you settled down quick, didn’t ya?” His tone takes on…contentment? Happiness? 

No. That’s not quite right. 

It’s pride. Steve is looking down at you, your spit and cum slick mouth, the weepy, watery state of your eyes, and the disarray of the hair he’d used as a handle, with pride.

Your stomach roils.

He bends low and you flinch away from him, smacking your head on the countertop again. He cocks his head at the involuntary movement, and smiles at you. A familiar, warm thing. One that made your heart flutter with pleasure, beat fast with your own surge of pride when he accepted a pie, or offered a compliment. Now it does the same, your heart speeds up, your palms itch curiously, and your brain doesn’t know if you’re happy or sad. Doesn’t know if it craves those smiles anymore. 

“Just wanna set you on your feet. C’mon.” He speaks quietly, like he’s soothing a frightened animal, and hooks his hand under your armpits, heaving you up with the same startling strength he'd used to face fuck the fight out of you.

“It’s okay.” You bleat, voice as wobbly and unstable as the pair of legs struggling to keep you upright. And it’s not, it’s far from okay, the taste of him lingers in the back of your throat and if you think about it for even a second more you’ll throw up all over his shiny floors, on those godforsaken pants.

“I admit,” he laughs, ducks his head with that small town charm he does so well, “I wanted to last longer. But you were too good.” He winks at you, like you share a secret. Like you’re in league with each other.

He staring, waiting for you to say something, arches a brow like it’s your line and you’re fucking up the show.

But there it is again, that smile, sunny and open, and so pristine.

“Let’s get you home.” He herds you towards his front door, hand glued to the small of your back, his pinky finger stroking the skin exposed by the riding up of your still wet shirt. The two of you walk into the balmy summer air, and the spaces in between the black night, punctuated with the occasional white streetlight, designate your path home. Some of your neighbours’ houses are still illuminated, their warm yellow windows denoting the presence of life. You wonder what goes on behind their doors, you wonder if someone is having a good night somewhere close to you.

You come across your door faster than you were prepared for, the cheery yellow paint job Steve and James had done for caramel apple pie, mocks you. The way he’d smiled in your face, touched you, laughed. Steve shifts next to you, holding onto your extensive tower of pyrex and tupperware, for an instant your blood runs cold at the prospect of Steve inviting himself in, like he’s done so many times before. Not to bring in groceries or put together a dresser, but to pin you prone to the carpet of your bedroom and smile at you.

“So!” He turns, “Same time next week?” You gawk at him, and when you don’t say or do anything, he stoops and slides your extra keys out from under your Garfield emblazoned doormat. The jingle of two, simple metal keys against the little bell shaped key-chain makes your head pound, your blood boil. He unlocks the door, and gestures for you to take a step indoors. You raise both hands, palms upturned so he can give the keys back, so you can hide them, or melt them, or flush them down the toilet. Instead, you get to watch him slip the key-ring into his pocket, before he places your dishes into your uplifted open palms. “I gotta say, the lemon bars were a hit.” He tweaks your nose between his thumb and forefinger, his compliment tempered by the greedy shine in his eyes. You nearly scratch your own eyes out when you get that pleased, soft tingle in your chest.

He smiles and you salivate. He compliments you and your heart responds. He’s proud and your brain tells you ‘I’m happy’.

Why hasn’t it gone away? Will it ever go away?

“Maybe those brownies again, the cream cheese ones?” His voice is hopeful, soft and pliant, like he’s worried you’ll say ‘no’.

Like there’s a world where he’d take no for an answer.

You nod, a jerky, quick gesture that rattles your brain around in your skull. “Sure. Yeah.” You answer, sweaty hands slipping against tempered glass and plastic lids. “Yes. Brownies.” Steve beams, clapping his hands together, once, loud, drawing your eyes to the brutish width of them.

“Fantastic. I can’t wait.” He jogs down your front steps, and the fist secured around your lungs loosens with every step he takes away from you. He pauses at the side walk, one foot still on your property, the other poised to leave it.

“We make a great team. Don’t we?” He turns to you, and this time, he isn’t smiling. This time, his eyes cut through the night and the streetlight and the foggy haze of misfortune clouding your brain.

And the fear finally comes.

You kick your door closed, and you lock your door, and you drop your pyrex and tupperwear and serving spoons in the sink and you lock your windows and you get into bed, still dressed for a poker night you had no business being at, and you pull the covers up and up and over your face.

But the fear doesn’t go away.

And neither will your neighbour.

god i want him so bad. tomorrow, captain soap.

find the rest of the masterlist here.

support city girls who bought $50 of baked cheesecake today, reblog what you like.

[darkserenity24]

𝑩𝒓𝒆𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑨𝒎𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒂

Soft Dark! Steve Rogers x Reader

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘦𝘯𝘷𝘺, 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘶𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬. 𝘠𝘦𝘵, 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭, 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴: 6.5𝘬

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝙣𝙤𝙣-𝙘𝙤𝙣, 𝙙𝙪𝙗-𝙘𝙤𝙣, 𝙨𝙢𝙪𝙩, 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙗𝙚𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙧, 𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙡 𝙘𝙤𝙚𝙧𝙘𝙞𝙤𝙣, 𝙙𝙚𝙘𝙚𝙞𝙩, 𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙚𝙬𝙞𝙛𝙚! 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧, 𝙚𝙭 𝘼𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧! 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

𝘈/𝘕: 𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘦𝘢 ;) 𝘋𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨!

Your smile grew wide as you felt a familiar pair of brawny arms wrap around your waist, enveloping you in a warm embrace. The hug was tight but not too tight, as your husband was highly aware of his strength and would never want to cause you harm.

Setting down the large wooden spoon you were using to stir the pot of vegetables, you turned away from the stove and settled into the embrace of your loving partner.

You tilted your head up for a kiss which he eagerly granted you, and when you pulled away you were met with radiant crystal blue eyes that held so much love for you. You reached up to run your fingers through his short dirty blonde locks as he rubbed a sizable hand down your back.

“Smells good in here, honey.” He complimented with a sweet smile. “How long do we have?”

You hummed, “I’d say about ten more minutes but realistically it could be more like five if you let me finish cooking this time without any distractions.”

His eyes darkened and a smirk appeared on his smooth pink lips. “Now how can I do that when you look just as delicious as the meal you’re making?” His hands slowly trailed down the back of your dress and toyed with the strings of your apron.

“Steve,” You sent him a playful yet cautionary look. “Give me just five more minutes. We’ll eat dinner and then I promise I’m yours for the rest of the night.”

He sighed dramatically before reluctantly letting you go and slowly backing away. “If you must.”

You gave him a teasing smile and waved him off with the wooden spoon before returning to your culinary task.

Your husband was always this way, loving you and wanting to be with you at any moment of the day. There have been way too many times in the past when you fell for his sweet charm and suggestive touches, letting him sweep you off your feet and take you away from your cooking. This resulted in many burnt dishes and ordering takeout for the night.

It’s not like you didn’t like it, in fact, you loved how much he wanted you. You just wished he had a bit more self-control so you could function more properly.

Steve was your world. He made you complete. He cared for you, doted on you, and protected you. He always made sure you were comfortable, well-fed, and hydrated. You never had a need for anything. Whenever you’d start having those rare moments of fear and anxiety, he would brew a cup of your favorite tea, give you a massage, and run a warm bath for you. It always did the trick in calming you down and allowing you to gain your more rational thoughts back.

Your relationship wasn’t out of the ordinary but it wasn’t very common nowadays. It was special. You were the one taking care of things in the house while Steve was the protector and breadwinner, and both of you were perfectly fine with that. 

You didn’t go out very much, preferring to stay at home with your various plants, books, and attentive husband, but when you did venture out into the world it was sort of strange. Most people seemed to look down on your traditional relationship, asking you very personal questions that confused you, and in turn, caused Steve to be upset. 

He never seemed to like when people spoke to you like they were familiar with you. He would quickly remove you from the situation and take you back home. You and Steve rarely ever argued, but when you did it was always about those situations. You’d tell him that he didn’t have to whisk you away from people at the first sign of discomfort. You could take care of yourself and you thought it was a bit much. He on the other hand thought it was perfectly reasonable.

Steve Rogers wasn't just your husband, but he was also Captain America. America’s golden boy and the first-ever Avenger. He’s experienced the world more than you ever have which was both a blessing and a curse. Steve was a hero but he also had been traumatized, and he didn’t want you to get caught up in anything that could potentially harm you. Even if it was just your feelings being hurt.

He treated you like you were the most precious thing on Earth. You were the most precious thing to him and so was he to you. Though, he was a bit more extreme when it came to protecting you. Anytime you left the house he would be right at your side. At the grocery store, the doctor’s office, picking up packages, wherever. He was basically your second shadow. Your guardian angel. 

Luckily for him, you were a homebody, so most of the time you stayed in your comfortable cute little house while he left for work every day. Though you liked to think of it like that, your house was anything but little. It was quite expansive and was at least three stories high including a basement and a four-car garage.

You had no idea why it was so large as it was only the two of you living there, but Steve loved the place and so you did too. You had more space for your various projects and paintings to lounge about, but you knew that would not be for very long. It was no secret that Steve wanted to have children, and the five extra rooms in the house told you that he wanted more than just one or two.

You both were trying to get pregnant for a while but it still hadn’t happened. This was something that haunted you. Steve gave you everything and you weren’t able to even produce one child for him. He pretended to be okay with it but you could see through his earnest facade, he was disappointed. Not in you of course, but that didn’t make it any less heartbreaking.

It wasn’t from lack of trying, that’s for sure. Almost every single night your husband made it his life’s mission to be deep inside of you, making sure you came around him several times before spilling his hot seed inside of you with intense determination. 

How you were not pregnant yet was a mystery to both of you. Your first thought was that your own body was rejecting him. Something was wrong with you and it was unfixable. Then you thought it was the super serum running through his veins that was the problem. It wasn’t heard of for a super soldier and a normal human to be able to produce offspring. However, Dr. Helen Cho had ruled out both possibilities, saying that there was no apparent reason for you and Steve not to be able to conceive.

Regardless, both of you continued to try, and no matter how sore you were or how many bruises and marks he left on your sensitive body, you were just as eager to lay underneath his strong, muscled frame and wrap your legs tightly around him.

And that’s exactly what you did after dinner.

You allowed your husband to push his length inside of you slowly, hearing him groan as your head fell back onto the pillow in complete bliss.

It was game night and Steve invited some of the team over.

You thought it was quite funny to see the world's most powerful heroes lounging around on your couch and eating nachos while animatedly yelling at the flat-screen TV. It was something you’d never get used to and something you also admired about them. How cool it must be to be an Avenger.

While Steve, Bucky, Sam, and Thor watched the New York Mets in the living room, you were preparing snacks in the kitchen with Natasha. She was leaning against the island watching as you fluttered around the kitchen in your pretty flowy dress and apron, heels clicking along the tiles as you went. You had pinned your hair up out of your face since you knew how hot you could get while trying to make several dishes at once.

“I would offer to help you, but we both know how that would end up. Everyone would go home with either an empty stomach or food poisoning.” She snickered.

You smiled at her, waving off her comment. “You know I don’t mind at all, Nat. It may not look very fun, but I actually enjoy cooking. Plus, I love the way it makes Steve’s eyes light up whenever I make something new for him.”

She crossed her arms with a slight frown. “I remember the days when you absolutely hated cooking.” She muttered under her breath, but you heard it, turning to her with a confused look.

“What?” 

You never remember a time when you didn’t enjoy cooking. Steve said it was always something you loved to do for him, even when you were just friends.  

She looked at you with wide eyes as if she herself was surprised at what she was saying. She quickly shook her head and cleared her throat. “Uh, nothing really.”

Her eyes flitted over to the countertop where jars of herbs sat. “Hey, are you still drinking that weird tea that Thor gave you?”

You nodded, continuing to move about the kitchen. “Yep, all the time. In fact, I’m drinking a cup now.” You pointed over to the lavender mug that held the hot beverage. “It was such a great gift and I’m obsessed with it. Steve makes sure to remind me to have a cup every day if I happen to forget. He knows it relaxes me and makes me happy. He’s sweet like that.” You shrugged with a smile.

“I bet he is,” was her reply. Something about her tone felt off but you didn’t mention it. “You do know where that tea was created, right?”

You shook your head lightly, focusing on the hot dish you were pulling out of the oven.  

She continued. “It’s some foreign concoction Thor brought back from Asgard. I’ve never heard of it before but one day, after Steve took you home from your… accident, Thor came back from his realm with a ton of it.”

Your mouth dropped as you glanced at her. “Wait, so you’re telling me I’m drinking tea from another realm? Asgardian tea? Space tea? That’s so exciting!”

You always wondered how you never seemed to run out of the floral and robust tea, the jar of herbs and leaves somehow magically replenishing itself anytime it was getting low. 

Natasha looked like she wanted to say more, but simply sighed, looking like she was contemplating something before digging into her pants pocket. She fished out a small bottle that looked to be filled with pills before walking towards you.

You raised an oven-mitted hand, stopping her in her tracks before swallowing hard. “Natasha…”

“Just hear me out, okay?” She whispered, quickly glancing near the kitchen doorway before bringing her attention back to you. “I know you don’t like when I give these to you but–.”

“No, I don’t.” You interrupted with a frown, sliding off your mitts. “They… they make me feel weird. Strange and not like myself. Plus, you’ve told me to hide them from Steve which is not okay. He’s my husband and I don’t like keeping secrets from him.”

“But they’re good for you, and you know that. That’s why you’re still taking them, right?” 

You said nothing, only avoiding her eyes. She was right. Anytime you took one of the mystery pills you felt... different. It was neither bad nor good, you just felt more aware of things and it frightened you. The first time she gave you the pills you started having nightmares and unusual dreams. 

She told you they weren’t dreams, that they were memories. 

Natasha was a cryptic woman, and she never flat-out told you why she was giving you these pills. She only said that they were to protect you, but protect you from what?

In a split second, you snatched the small bottle out of Nat’s hand and stuffed it into the pocket of your apron.

“You ladies doing alright?”

You nearly jumped when Steve’s familiar timbre cut through the kitchen. You turned your head to see his hefty body leaning against the doorframe as he eyed you both with a raised brow. 

His intense cerulean orbs were planted on Nat for a few seconds longer before sliding over to you.

Nat spoke first. “Yeah, I was just telling your wife here that she needs to get out more. She’s always with you or stuck in this house. She needs a break.”

Steve continued to stare at her, brows furrowed with something akin to annoyance before he straightened to his full height, making his way over to you.

“My baby loves being at home, don’t you?” 

He grabbed your waist and pulled you into a searing kiss, one a bit too inappropriate to do while Nat was observing.

Releasing you from the kiss, he slyly looked over at Nat who stared back at him unimpressed. 

“But you have nothing to worry about. I take care of her very well. She’s happy and safe, just like I said she’d be.” 

There was a slight edge to his voice which made you a bit uncomfortable. You had no clue what was going on between Steve and Natasha but they never really seemed to get along outside of work.

Nat hummed while backing away. “Like I said, she needs a break.” She looked over at you before heading out of the door. “I’m gonna go. Call me soon and we can figure out our next hang.”

You nodded, and once she was gone Steve released his tight hold on you. 

“Everything okay?” you question, rubbing his arm in a soothing manner. 

“Yeah, everything’s good. I just… don’t want to lose you.” He admitted. “You mean everything to me, you know that?”

“You won’t lose me, Steve. There’s no reason why that would ever happen.”

He nodded, embracing you in a hug as he rested his chin on top of your head. “I’ll do anything to protect you, anything to have you here with me.”

When the game was over, you found yourself back in the kitchen cleaning up your mess. You were making your way towards the living room to collect the leftover dirty dishes but slowed as you heard voices mentioning your name.

“Jeez, Cap, what did you do?” This voice sounded like Sam’s. “She’s like a complete one-eighty of the girl I used to know. She went from badass to housewife in a matter of days after that mission.”

You narrowed your eyes in confusion and slight offense.

“Yeah, what’s up with that? You brainwash her or something?” Bucky joked halfheartedly. “You took no time in marrying her after she was released.”

“Tea is the way to a woman’s heart.” Thor chimed in with a chuckle. “and Rogers here has lots of it.”

You didn’t hear Steve’s reply, only backing away and returning to the kitchen in complete mystification.

When you and Steve went to bed that night, you waited for hours to make sure he was in a deep sleep. Hearing his slow, heavy breathing, you carefully peeled his solid arms from around your body, leaving the bed and taking quiet steps to the bathroom down the hall.

Opening the small hidden compartment inside of the bathroom mirror, you shakily removed the bottle of pills before opening it and popping one into your mouth.

You chased it down with a tall glass of water and left the bathroom, returning to bed and falling into a deep sleep.

You woke up with a start, Steve’s worried blue gaze the first thing that greeted you.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” He asked and you frowned in confusion.

You looked down at your sweat-covered body, noticing how fast your heart was beating and how heavy your breaths were.

“I-I don’t know. Um, just another nightmare I guess.” You answered shakily.

Steve frowned in concern. “Alright… let’s get you cleaned up.”

He carried you to the bathroom, filling the tub with warm soapy water before settling you inside.

As Steve gently washed your hair while you sat in the water, he questioned you more about your dream. He wanted to know what had you waking up in a panic.

“It was strange.” You began softly, closing your eyes at the soothing feeling of his fingers on your scalp. “I was at some sort of base, trying to sneak around the place before I was caught. T-they attacked me viciously. There was blood everywhere, and I was blindfolded before I suddenly couldn’t breathe. They had submerged me in some sort of water tank and I was drowning…” you trailed off when you felt Steve’s hands pause in your hair.

You turned around to look at him and he was staring at you with a faraway look in his gaze. 

“Steve?” you called out to him.

His gaze focused back in on you as he looked at you with a serious expression, firmly grabbing your chin.

“Those are just dreams,” He said to you, voice heavy with conviction. “Nothing more, nothing less. Don’t think too hard about them, okay?”

You gave a slow, unsure nod, causing the softness to return to his eyes.

“Now, how about we get your mind off those silly dreams and onto something much more interesting…”

He stood up to strip off his clothes, and before you knew it, he was also in the water with you, lying on his back while his massive hands tightly gripped your hips as you rode him straight to heaven.

Steve’s behavior was getting odd.

He had been acting weird for the past week or so, stalking around the house in silence as if he were looking for something. Whenever you asked him about it, he’d say nothing and simply changed the subject. 

You had been having sex much more frequently, several times a day now and you were getting tired but Steve had unending stamina. You slept later than you used to, only waking up to the sound of him calling your name. You also started feeling more nauseous, and not liking the sound of any of these symptoms, you called Natasha, asking her to pick up a few items from the store and drop them off to you.

You were unable to go yourself because Steve was currently out on a long mission, meaning he couldn’t drive you to the store. You thought about leaving your house and walking but you knew that would just make him upset. Plus, you didn’t want to get his hopes up if you were wrong about what you were dealing with.

Once Nat arrived with the small bag you let her into the house. 

“You don’t think your…” She looked down at your stomach before meeting your eyes with an apprehensive look. 

You shrugged. “I have no idea, that’s why I asked you to buy these tests. If I am that would be great. Steve wants us to have a baby.” You said with a small smile.

She raised a dark red brow at you. “Do you even want kids? Because you sure don’t sound like you do.”

You pursed your lips. “I think so. I don’t know why I wouldn’t want them. It’ll make Steve happy, which in turn will make me happy.”

Nat said nothing at that, eyeing you as you left for the bathroom. 

Closing the door, you took a deep breath before opening the box. You did your business and sat the small stick down on the bathroom counter before washing your hands.

Taking a seat on the side of the tub, you stared at the floor for what seemed like forever. You waited five more minutes for the completed results.

Picking up the test, you took a closer look at it, breathing out a surprising amount of relief when you realized there was only one line that appeared on the pink and white stick.

You hurriedly wrapped the small stick in toilet paper before throwing it in the trash. You exited the bathroom, meeting Nat’s curious gaze. 

“I’m not pregnant.” You breathed. Pushing aside the small pang of guilt you felt, you allowed yourself to smile at the comforting news.

“Nat, I don’t think this is a good idea.”

You glanced around the club full of people as the bass of the music vibrated through your body. 

“Relax,” She said before winking at a passing guy who was eyeing her up and down. The club lights were shining off of her jet-black wig, and you were glad that she was in disguise. You weren’t in the mood to take a whole crowd of people gathering around you to get the Black Widow’s autograph.

“Not being pregnant means you have a ton of liberties you can take that you wouldn’t have been able to otherwise. You’re young and you need to have some fun around other people, not alone in your big empty house. Besides,” She shrugged lightly with a smirk. “your warden’s on a mission for another day or two so you don’t have to be so uptight.”

“Steve’s not my warden, he’s my husband who would probably lose his shit if he knew I was at a club right now.” You defended, giving her an unimpressed look.

“Look, I’m not trying to cause anything between you and Steve, I just want you to have fun. I don’t care if I have to threaten every guy that walks up to you for you to stay.”

As soon as she said that, a random guy walked passed while whistling. “Hey, that chick looks familiar, doesn’t she?” He said to his friend while pointing at you.

Natasha gave them a harsh glare. “Beat it dirt bag, before I rearrange your organs.” 

The guy and his friend swiftly did as they were told and you stared back at her for a moment before your shoulders dropped in defeat. She was right. You needed to learn how to be around other people and unwind. 

“Fine, but we have to get home before Steve finds out.”

“He’s never gonna know.” She granted you a devious smile before waving to the bartender.

“You know what else is great about not being pregnant, besides the having to grow a whole human part?”

You raised your brows at her and she smirked. “Being able to have a nice drink.”

You shook your head at her. “I think I’m gonna start with a couple of mocktails first.”

She rolled her eyes. “Your funeral.”

You both sat at the bar for what seemed like hours. The night was getting late and there were more drunk people dancing all over the club. Lights flashed and the music blared even louder. 

You were surprised that you were still able to hear Nat’s voice over all the commotion. 

“...so that’s when I jumped from the plane and landed on the tarmac. I took those hydra agents all by surprise and shot them down one by one.” She took a sip of what was her fourth drink since you’ve both been here. “But don’t worry, I didn’t kill them. Just injured them enough for them not to be in our way. We captured them right after.”

“Wow,” you said, truly mesmerized by her story. It was so vivid as if you could picture being there with her. “That’s insane! It must be so damn cool to be an Avenger. I mean, you get to travel the world while kicking bad guys' asses, and you get to work with people like Tony Stark and Bruce Banner. Name a cooler job than that.” You shook your head in awe. “Sometimes I find myself being jealous that Steve has such a cool job and I’m just stuck at home all the time. I love him, but I just find myself wanting more sometimes, you know?”

Nat’s expression turned sad as she stared at you before setting her drink down on the bar top. “You used to… you used to have that too.”

You blinked, not understanding her. “Have what?”

She looked into the crowd of bodies, expression sobering up before her eyes met yours again. 

“You used to be one of us. An Avenger.”

You stared back at her for a moment before laughter bubbled up in your chest. However, it died down once you realized she was being completely serious.

“You were one of the best. We all admired you. Steve admired you.”

“Nat…”

“He used to love going on missions with you. Back then, you two were the best of friends. But then one day, things changed. Every single time you came back from a mission injured, Steve was right there helping you. He was the one carrying you, the one that got more and more angry as time passed.” Her jaw clenched. “It’s part of the job, right? You go out to save the world knowing that you’ll probably get hurt. Knowing that there’s a small chance that you may not return the way you left. Knowing that you may not return at all. And Steve couldn’t handle that. Not when it came to you. You both had a big fight the day you left for Siberia. That’s when you’re accident happened.”

She searched your eyes with a frown. “He’s attempted to rewrite your whole life after that. I don’t know what he’s told you but you got really hurt that day. You tried to prove a point to him by leaving before the rest of us. By the time we caught up to you at the base, you almost drowned which resulted in a substantial amount of memory loss.” She let out a humorless laugh, picking up her drink again. “And that’s all it took for Steve to take advantage of the situation, whisking you away to brainwash you. Molding you into the perfect little wife you are now.”

Your hands shook as your hard gaze focused on the drink in her hand. “Nat… you’re drunk.”

“Yeah, maybe so, but I’m not a liar.” She retorted. 

You shook your head, facing contorting into a look of disgust. “If Steve is taking advantage of me like you say he is, why did you just allow that? Why did anyone allow that? The team is over our house all the time and no one’s said a word.”

Guilt appeared in her green eyes as she looked down at her lap. “Steve… convinced us. Most of us, at least. He said he would take care of you and we believed him. We almost lost you. We were scared for you and let him take you away, trusting that he wouldn’t cause you any harm. We all knew he cared for you, we all knew he loved you. Though, we didn’t think he’d go to this extreme.”

You swallowed hard. “And the pills?”

“They counteract the effects from that Asgardian tea Thor’s been sending you to keep you in a pliant state of amnesia. The pills have a formula that helps your brain form more memories, and they are also a form of birth control that doesn’t show up in your system. Medical professionals can’t see it.” She looked at you sadly. “You didn’t want children and from what I can tell, you still don’t.”

You felt like you were going to throw up as you tried to comprehend what she was saying. “Steve’s been giving me the tea to keep my memories away?”

She nodded. “Yes, Steve convinced Thor that it would be good for you. No one wanted to see the traumatic state you’d be in when you eventually remembered everything. We all cared for you and we still do.”

Your jaw clenched. “If you cared for me as you say you do, you wouldn’t have let him just… just take me!” You exclaimed. “If everything you’re saying is true, then you’re just as bad as Steve. Don’t try and pretend like you’re saving me just because you slipped me a bunch of pills.”

She slowly nodded her head. “I know, I’m not a good person, but I’m trying to fix that. I really am. I wanted you to gain your memories back yourself. If I had told you without showing you any proof, you wouldn’t have believed me. Steve has his claws stuck so deep within you that I had to do something drastic.”

You shut your eyes, turning your head away from her. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

She gazed at you long and hard before looking away. “You’re right. I shouldn’t be telling you this anyway.”

She pushed her drink towards you, gesturing down to it. “Here, you’ve had enough mocktails for the night. Have a real drink,” She patted your arm before hopping out of her seat. “I think you need it more than I do.”

She strolled off in the direction of the ladies' restrooms, leaving you alone at the bar with just your thoughts and a glass of alcohol. You warily glanced down at the drink before slowly picking it up. 

It was barely a centimeter away from your mouth before a strong hand harshly snatched it away from your grasp. You gasped as it was thrown onto the hard floor, shattering into a million pieces. The few people around who noticed were staring at you, but they quickly left to mind their own business.

You slowly looked up from the floor, meeting a familiar pair of furious blue eyes. 

“S-steve?”

He glared at you intensely, dark brows deeply furrowed and lips pressed in a tight thin line.

“I-I can explain-”

“How do you think I felt when I arrived home early to surprise my wife and to be met with an empty house,” His voice was deep, anger carrying in his words. “only to find her dressed like a slut at a fucking bar out of all places.”

You swallowed, never having witnessed Steve be this upset with you. He never cursed at you no matter how mad he was.

You shook your head. “It’s not what you think,”

“Oh, I know exactly what this is,” he said, slowly nodding his head. “You’re coming home with me. Now.” 

He reached out to grab you but you backed away. “No, I-I don’t want to.” Everything Nat had drunkenly confessed to you was finally setting in.

He said nothing at that, simply taking hold of your arm and dragging you out of the club so fast that you stumbled in your high heels. 

Annoyed by your slowness, he tossed you over his shoulder and carried you to his car. He quickly buckled you in before getting into the driver's seat and driving off.

The car ride was filled with a deafening silence but once you got home, you stomped into the house with Steve right on your heels. He grabbed you, spinning you around to face him.

“What the hell was that back there?” He asked gruffly. “Why are you throwing a tantrum? Is this your way of saying you want to get out more? All you had to do was say so.”

“Yeah, what would you say, Steve? Tell me that it’s too dangerous for me to be out in the world and that I’m safer at home? I’ve already heard that excuse a million times.”

He took a slow, deep breath, eyeing your tired face. “This is Natasha’s doing, isn’t it?”

You scoffed, throwing a hand in the air. “No, it’s your doing! You basically kidnapped me Steve!” you yelled at him and his eyes widened. He looked to be taken aback. 

“You lied to me about how we met and what I was doing before my accident, brainwashed me into thinking that we’re this perfect loving couple.” Hot angry tears built up in your eyes. “Y-you tried to get me pregnant even though you knew that I never wanted kids.”

He shook his head, inching closer to you. “I didn’t try to get you pregnant,” He stated before pulling out a small object from his pants pocket. You blinked away your tears, getting a better look at what was in his hand. 

The small object was a pregnancy test. Your pregnancy test that now showed two prominent lines instead of one. “I did.”

You were at a loss for words, gaping at Steve as he looked at you with so much hurt in his eyes. “And there you were at the bar, trying to poison yourself, trying to harm your body, trying to kill our child.”

More tears spilled down your face as you started backing away from him. This was it. He got what he wanted.

“You didn’t think I’d notice your little happy pills in the bathroom cabinet? I took the liberty of switching them to placebos weeks ago. You were consuming sugar pills, baby, ” He sneered.

“You’re mistaken if you think you can ever hide anything from me. I knew that Nat was snooping around, telling you things that she had no business telling you. I knew those nightmares you were having were memories of your last mission. Do you remember now? The one where you stupidly ran off without me and almost got yourself killed?”

“No..”

“And guess who saved you? Who got to you first? It was me! I’m the one who had to hold your cold, lifeless body as I tried to breathe air back into your lungs. I’m the one who wrapped your wounds and carried you back to the compound.”  He sniffled, tears building up in his beautiful crystal blue eyes as he pointed to his chest. “I’m the one who was there when you first opened your eyes and didn’t recognize who I was. You didn’t remember me, and that was the second worst day of my life.”

You shook your head at him. “I’m sorry, Steve. I really am, but I’m not the woman you’re trying your hardest to turn me into. If I didn’t want to be with you then, then I shouldn’t be with you now.”

His face sobered up at that and a strange glint appeared in his gaze. “I did all of this to protect you, to keep you safe. You almost died. Do you know how badly that affected me?” He shook his head, nostrils flaring. “You’re insane if you think you’re just going to walk away from me. You’re my wife. I have you and now our child to care for, and I’d happily die before I’d ever let you go.”

You let out a shaky breath, nearing the stairs. “You're crazy, Steve.”

He let out a humorless laugh and shrugged. “Maybe, but it’s all for you.”

You bolted up the stairs, Steve hot on your tail. You barely reached the bedroom before he caught you. 

You thrashed around in his firm hold. “Let me go!” 

He ignored your constant pleas, only pushing you further into the room before closing the door and locking it. With one arm around you and the other on the doorknob, he crushed it with just a squeeze of his hand, deforming the lock.

He was doing everything in his power to make sure you didn’t escape.

He placed you onto the bed and you were flat on your back as he sat atop you. Letting your arms go, he held your face in his hands, searching your eyes as if he were looking for something that wasn’t there. 

“Baby, you have to calm down. Let me show you how much I love you. Let me take care of you, everything will be okay.”

“No!” Your palm sharply met his cheek, the sound of flesh hitting flesh reverberating in the room.

Steve’s head was slightly tilted to the side as he blinked, his mouth forming into a thin line. He no longer looked like the happy, caring husband he was pretending to be before. He looked unfamiliar. Darker. 

You warily watched him as he turned his dark gaze towards you, pupils larger than you’ve ever seen them before. “That didn’t hurt me, and you know it, but it’s about the principle of it.”

You let out a shaky breath as he grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head. “I tried to go the easy route, tried to make things better for you, but you didn’t want that, did you?”

“Steve, no…”

“It’s too late, baby. You’re in our bed and pregnant with our child, and I couldn’t be happier.” His voice was husky, sounding anything but happy. He leaned down towards you, lips lightly brushing against your trembling ones. “Let me show you.” He whispered.

Before you knew it, your dress was being torn off of your body, Steve clawing at you like a wild animal. You whimpered as he stripped off his dark henley and jeans.

“Steve, stop! I don’t want this!” His hands were all over your body, groping and caressing you. You closed your eyes as calloused fingers grazed over your clit.

“It doesn’t matter what you want anymore, not if you were planning to leave me.”

Those were the last words you heard before he slid his cock into your embarrassingly wet core. You gasped as he slowly thrust into you, keeping a steady but mind-bending pace. You didn’t know if he was being gentle because of the baby inside of you, or if it was because he knew you liked it that way. The answer was probably both.

You wanted to claw at his back, but he held your wrists down above your head. You renewed your struggle and he gained his pace, hips slapping into yours while he buried his face in your neck, moaning your name.

“There’s no one better than me. No one can do what I do for you. No one else can take care of you like I do,” He whispered harshly. “Or fuck you like I do, and you know it.”

It was hard to deny his claim as he pounded into your g spot over and over again, causing you to mewl out his name.

He lifted his head, gazing down at you. “I’m going to continue to show you how much you need me. Every single night, until it's branded in your mind. You won’t ever try to leave me again, right?”

He pinched your nipple, causing you to let out a satisfying gasp, back arching as your body rocked with every slam of his hips against yours.

“Right?” He repeated more firmly, bass in his strong voice.

As you looked into his dark and determined gaze, you had no choice but to nod your head, walls squeezing around his cock like a vice.

“Y-yes, Steve.”

“Good girl.” He purred. “After I fuck some sense back into you, I’m gonna give you a nice hot mug of your favorite tea so you can calm down.”

He nodded as if he was trying to convince himself, “but for now you’re gonna take my cock like the good little obedient wife you are.”

DarkSerenity's Masterlist

✦ 𝘚𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘥𝘰. 𝘙𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 ;)

✦ 𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰, 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘒𝘰-𝘧𝘪 ✨: 𝘩𝘵𝘵𝘱𝘴://𝘬𝘰-𝘧𝘪.𝘤𝘰𝘮/𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺24

[p3sephone]

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I want to break up."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[mariaxxxxx]

Blackberry (Steve Rogersx fem!reader)

Summary: You shouldn't have had too much to drink at that party, honey. (+18)

Warnings: 18+ ONLY/ Minors DNI, Angust, Hurt comfort, Sex, Apologies, Crying, Creampie, Passionate sex, virgin!reader, size difference, smut, soft!dom!, HEA, good ending, somnophille, slight degradation, duvious consent, menstrual sex, pregnancy, arranged marriage, inexperienced reader, abortion commented, unprotected sex (don't do that wrap this thing), kidnapping, aftercare, curse words.

series masterlist

A/N: English is not my mother tongue. I apologize for any errors.

A/N: The following chapter has graphic descriptions of non-consensual sex. I ask that you carefully observe the warnings to avoid triggers.

The party at the Stark mansion was a success as always. The cream of society was made up of businesspeople and new candidates for a seat in the American Congress. Dresses and hats fluttered in the cool spring breeze. You devoured a bowl of sugared blackberries, leaning against the bar counter, while watching your parents talk with friends animatedly about some topic involving economics and money. For God! You were so bored not even one of your friends decided to join you in this den of ostentation and hypocrisy.

And nothing, no matter how exciting it was to be in a superhero's house, could appease the enormous boredom that consumed his insides. Not even alcohol could keep you company at this point, your father would die before allowing a drop of alcohol to wet his tongue, so you were left with sugary blackberries that proved to be a good aphrodisiac on a hot afternoon.

You swallowed the last blackberry and left the empty bowl on the counter. He walked to his mother and whispered ‘’I’m going for a walk’’ in her ear and left the room before his mother could retort. You easily dodged the hundreds of guests and headed to the farthest drinks tent where an efficient bartender was juggling. The tent was outside, near a clump of trees, away from the watchful eyes of his parents.

“A blackberry margarita, please.” You asked, leaning slightly over the ivory surface.

"Identity." He asked.

“I didn’t bring it, but I guarantee that I’m of legal age.” You smiled as convincingly as you could, but he didn't seem inclined to help you. You rolled your eyes. “I’ll give you 100 bucks for the drinks.”

The bartender looked at You in disbelief. You felt internally angry; The childish features still hadn't left his face like the cute cheeks and plump lips, and that always got him into trouble.

“Not happening, girl.”

"Please! This party is a big mess, if you know what I mean. I need to stuff my face or I’m going to go crazy.”

Again he looked at her in disbelief. He was probably one of those people who only saw parts published in gossip magazines about young heirs who got into trouble.

"It went badly."

You sighed. Your father didn't even let you bring your cell phone. It was not polite, in his opinion, for a rich girl to interrupt an important conversation because of a message.

“A straight whiskey, please.” The deep voice next to him. “And a blackberry margarita.”

Without having to present ID or leave a tip to guarantee efficient service, the man, the damn Captain America, got both orders at incredible speed. The only thing You could think about was how tall and handsome he was.

"Here." He handed her the drink. “I got the impression that you forgot your identity and are being massacred by the damn bureaucracy.”

You smiled; by the drink and the wording so changing coming from a man considered by many to be an American God.

“Thank you, Captain.” You said as you took a sip of your drink.

“Steve. Just Steve.” He said taking a generous sip of his own drink. “I hope he really is of age. I don’t want to get in trouble.”

"Right. Steve. Just Steve.” You repeated with a mischievous smile. “I promise I will show you my ID as soon as possible.”

“What’s your name, pretty girl?”

You found yourself smiling and blushing at such a flippant compliment coming from such a divine man. You told him your name.

“A beautiful and delicate name. It suits you." He took another generous sip of his Whiskey and you took advantage and drank some more of your drink. It was sweet and went down as light as water.

“How can I thank you for the drink?” You asked.

"Talk to me."

You drank more of your blackberry margarita.

"About what?"

"Anything. Just… entertain me at this boring party.”

“Anything…” You took another sip. “As long as we can help ourselves to one more of these.” You got ready for your now empty glass.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Steve said, finishing the whiskey with a hint of a smile on his lips.

At some point, between conversations and glasses of margarita, Steve convinced you to show him every corner of the mansion. You accepted, looking excited about taking a tour with such a handsome man by your side. You and Steve left the tent, avoiding curious glances and boring conversations. He showed you the room where the Avengers met, the works of art that Tony insisted on buying, the training room and finally a long corridor with similar doors. He opened one of them and you entered a large room without windows, with a large sofa in the center, a minibar, a large TV that took up the entire wall and a strange device that you thought was a stereo.

It was large, clean and richly decorated. It felt like a sanctuary for leisure time. Steve pointed to the sofa and you sat down, he went to the minibar and returned with a bottle of reddish liquid. He sat down next to her.

  “Do you want to drink more”? He reached out his hand, wrapping his long fingers around the bottleneck. He extended this to You as if it were not a trap that You were about to willingly fall into. “It’s a liqueur made with blackberries. I got it from a senator at a party at the White House. I noticed how much You like the fruit and I would like You to try it.”

You had already had too much to drink. There were glasses and more glasses of margaritas, and you already felt your body a little soft, but you couldn't refuse the proposal of a man as beautiful as that. The man who sacrificed a lot for this nation. It's just a drink, You thought. Getting drunk next to Captain America, who is a hero, is a much better idea than getting drunk alone in a mansion. And you loved blackberries.

"Yes please." You mumbled, and Steve looked so proud of your response. He poured you a generous dose of drink. You drank. It was strong and very concentrated, very different from your sweet and light margherita. You didn't care you just drank more while Steve looked at You with a big smile. Beautiful. It was a beautiful smile.

One drink turned into two, then three and four.

“You’re blushing.” He smiled, he said drinking some of the liquor. “Your first kiss wasn’t that bad.”

You didn't notice. But You started sharing very personal things with Steve; You told him how your first kiss, as a child, was a disaster with a classmate you liked. You said how it was drooling and clumsy.

"It was horrible". You made a cart.” I did it because my friends wanted it. I should have waited longer.”

You don't feel it, but your knees spread of their own accord as a warm hand, not yours, lifts your dress a little and exposes the inside of your thigh and begins to massage in gentle circles as you finish another glass, laughing hard. , the heat growing whenever he got closer.

“A girl as beautiful as you should have someone.” He says in a reprimanding tone. He was close, very close. You drank more.

“No” You laugh, louder than usual, You feel so good, so light. But you feel a wave of disappointment wash over your body when you remember that you had no one. She couldn't even remember the last time she was touched or praised by the opposite sex.

“With such a beautiful face like that, it’s hard to believe.” He smiled. “Such a beautiful body and...”

He pauses.

“And…” You encourage him to continue.

“With breasts as beautiful as yours, I’m sure everyone…” He stops, looking embarrassed, his hand on your thigh about a little more. "Forgive me. This is inappropriate.

"No." You say quickly, urgently, although more slurred than usual.” I don't mind. You can praise them.”

"No?" He asks, his voice perfectly steady, with fake surprise behind it. Had you and he already had so much to drink because he didn't seem any different? “Would you mind showing them? I would love to see."

You shake your head and mumble no. With one hand, the other held the glass of drink, You released the bows on your dress that held your breasts, You didn't wear a bra, you didn't need them to make your breasts look beautiful, something you were secretly proud of. Her breasts bounce out towards him.

Steve reaches out his hand and gives it a nice squeeze. You let out a small moan at the intimate touch.

“I want to suck your six.” He blurts out.

His smile disappears, mostly in shock at such a bold revelation. But a part, a big part, of you feels flattered that Captain America wants to play with your breasts and all you wanted at that moment was for him to touch you.

"All good." You mumble in a slurred, broken voice.

Steve pushes your body until his head is between your breasts. You feel him take a deep breath, smelling you, his right hand grabs one of your breasts. He tilts his head and wraps his lips around your closest nipple.

The sensation is strange, it tickles, cold, but it warms up quickly. You had never felt someone do it like this before, it was much more like a brief lick or a clumsy and seductive suck like many boys did. But with Steve it was different. He was grasping as if trying to extract fluid that will never come out. He moans lewdly. You drop the glass and place your hand under his blonde locks, pressing his head against your breasts.

“Steve.” You let out a moan as he takes a long nip before releasing your breasts in a wet pop.

  “Where is your glass?” He asks.

You don't respond, because you're too oblivious to pay attention to his words. His body was hot, his vision blurred and his nipples hard and sensitive. You were oblivious when you felt Steve put a full glass in your hands, he mumbled a drink and you obeyed, wanting to leave him satisfied.

You drank more. Maybe four or five or six more glasses. You do not remember. The last one ended up kind of spilled because you couldn't hold it while Steve helped you take off his dress. You feel his head being placed on a soft pillow or perhaps a cushion, You couldn't tell; his vision was blurred and his senses were weak. Warm hands slide down your legs to your panties and gently remove them. Your blurred vision is bathed in the sight of Steve shirtless on top of you. Beautiful. He was so beautiful.

You're moaning and shaking with nervousness, or at least you would be if his grip wasn't holding you in place. Her pussy burned with heat and desire, it was like rough sandpaper that moved in and out, swinging a seesaw from hell.

“It hurts.” You mutter. You were a mess and you know it, the words come out slow and slurred. Humiliation rises deeper than pleasure can reach, and disgust crawls over your skin with a sheen of sweat. He had touched her before. Stimulating your clit until you came on his long fingers, but it wasn't enough, it never would be. He was big and thick, with powerful hips that caused her great pain with each thrust.

You weren’t expecting it when he tilted his hips just to rub the fat head of his cock against your aching pussy. You moan at the small shock waves caused by the brief contact with your clit, but he smothers your moans with a wet, hot kiss, taking away your oxygen. He shoved his cock back inside her ripped hole.

He moaned against You, his mouth open panting, as if he was feeling something that You didn't. The intrusion not only stretches, but burns and hurts. Dry fiction mixes with rough movement. The tears flow, You feel the wet trail they leave on your cheeks. The disorientation left You dizzy and contained, a prisoner of your own body, but that didn't stop Him from exerting his strength against You. He was heavy. Upon noticing your whimpering, the hand that was on your hips goes up to cover your mouth, spreading tears and saliva everywhere.

“It’s okay, my love.” He said between moans. “You are so beautiful and as sweet as berries.”

The blackberries. The damn blackberries were the ones who brought her here. Steve gives another powerful thrust, preventing any further thought. You scream into his hand. He begins to fuck with desire, with strong thrusts, riding his own release. You moan, writhe, scream when a sensation begins to blossom at the tip of your toes that rises to your abdomen causing your muscles to contract slightly and then relax. Steve doesn't stay far behind, he pulls out of your pussy and with one last thrust spills all of his semen inside of you.

You are sleeping too deeply to understand, but not too deeply not to hear. You hear some loud footsteps, a door closes, before you feel someone approaching.

"Mommy." You speak as you sit up, try to open your eyes, your mind is still spinning. A great light hits your eyes and you close them quickly. Little by little you open your eyes slowly until you get used to it.

You wish your mother had killed the man who enchanted you with smiles and drinks so that you would give yourself to him, you may fear that strange conversation and the lectures, but you longed for your mother's safety and her lap. But it wasn't his mother who was sitting next to him. It was him.

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” He says as he brushes the strands of hair out of your face. “Your parents are a little upset now, but they will get over it little by little, you'll see. They will be happy for their little daughter who has won over the national hero and is about to walk down the aisle.”

"What are you talking about?" You say roughly, trying to get up, but the quick action made your body weaken. Steve picks you up and sits back down on the couch.

“I will take care and spoil you a lot, my love. You will see. I will fill you with gifts and love. We're gonna have a lot of fun." Steve says with a scary look on his face.

"You are crazy." You say in tears. “My parents will...”

"Do not worry about a thing." He pulls away and stands up, walking over to the minibar counter where a red bowl awaits him. He pities her and returns to You. “I'm already taking care of everything. All You need to do now is eat.”

Fear flooded your body You had already trusted that man and look what happened, but You had already seen too many documentaries and police series to know how much this type of person hated being contradicted. Maybe being his sweet, obedient girl would provide you with some benefit. With your body shaking, you stretched to see the contents of that bowl. A sound of disgust escaped his mouth when he realized they were blackberries.

[allherfuckingtears]

Got a secret, can you keep it?

Summary: Certain news leave you devastated as you walk into the hands of your not so gentle husband.

Characters: dark!Steve Rogers x wife!reader

Warnings: non/dubcon elements, allusion to sexual content, violence, (forced) pregnancy, power imbalance, dark elements

This story contains dark elements, be aware. 18+

Note: Just a little something for @cockslutpadalecki 15 sentence challenge. Haven't written anything in a long time, so bare with me.

__________________________________________

Soft snowflakes dance down the sky, landing on three inch blankets of snow covering once pristine green gras. The suns shines proudly, making the snow glisten like the 24-carat diamond resting heavy on your ring finger. But even the beautiful scenery doesn't reach you. A picture that once would have made you smile like a child on Christmas, now only suffocates you further. Fingers play with the tiny charm on your necklace, a nervous habit picked up when you were younger, as you stare out of the window of your prison, trying desperately to keep the tears and screams inside as the two blue lines mock you. 

You refuse to accept your fate. It can't be true. Not again. 

Tiny hands grab onto your forearm. "Mommy, Mommy", the voice startles you. "What is that?", curious fingers fish for the plastic stick sitting next to you. 

"Nothing, Jay", you push the test out of his reach, as it disappears in your back pocket. "Don't worry about it, baby." 

"Mommy, you've been crying! Why have you been crying?"

"What…" Your fingers meet wet cheeks. - You have been crying. "No, no", you stumble on your words, desperately wiping your face. "I'm okay"

"But you… you've been crying!" The blue eyes looking down at you start to glisten as James' voice turns shrill. 

Panic rises as you desperately try to placate the little human in front of you. You sush him as you pull him down on the floor and into your lap, "Mommy's fine - see", you force a smile on your lips. "Everything's fine, baby. It's okay", you whisper into his hair as tiny arms wrap around your throat. "Have you seen the snow? It's crazy, look", you turn him towards the window. 

"So pretty…" he mumbles, eyes gleaming. "Maybe we can go out and play?" Excitement rises and he's out of your arms and in front of the window before you can even blink. "Please, Mommy!"

"Sure, Jay. But you'll have to wear something warm, okay? It's very cold outside" Standing up you brace yourself on the wall as your head spins.

"Not Jay, Mommy. James. Daddy doesn't like it", he scolds you, voice serious.

A shudder crawls down your spine at the mention of his father. You swallow as you look at the blonde toddler, his spitting image. "Daddy, doesn't have to know".

"Daddy doesn't have to know what?", a deep voice echoes. You jump turning around, heart beating as Steve stands in the doorway. 

"Daddy!", the little boy in front of you squeals, running into the arms of his father. Steve scoops him up off the floor as his cold eyes meet yours. You gulp. 

"Steve…", the whisper escapes you before you can think of what you actually want to say. He's not supposed to be here. Not for the next four hours. Bile rises in the back of your throat as the plastic stick stabs you in your lower back. You're going to vomit, you're sure of it. He looks at you expectantly, gaze turning sterner when you don't move. When you don't greet him like he trained you to. 

"Y/N", his voice snaps, jaw ticking. "Now." 

But you can't. You can't. If you go to him now, if you give him the kiss he wants from you, he'll feel it. He'll feel the test. He'll know and there will be nothing you can do about it. No escaping your fate. Just like the last two times. You know you're done for when he lowers Jay on the ground, gaze still on you. 

"Go, check on your brother, James." He dismisses the boy. Jay looks at you before turning and running through the door. Leaving you alone. To unknowingly suffer at the hand of his father. 

"Kneel", the command comes as soon as his son is out of sight. "Before I fucking make you." You know you have no choice. If you don't do as he says, then he'll make you. This way, you might at least get a chance to hide the doom lingering in the back of your pocket once you inevitably have to ready yourself for your punishment. 

"Steve, please…", you plead as your knees hit the floor. You resume the familiar position, eyes down, palms up. You know exactly what to do. At this point it's basic instinct, a second nature forced onto you for the last four years. A barely audible whisper leaves your lips, a final entreaty before you inescapably have to give into his perverse fantasies, "Please… I'm sorry".

Colds hands find your chin, making you look at him. His thumb catches on your lip, pushing into your mouth. You hollow your cheeks, tongue swirling around the digit. Eyes pleading with him. His thumb presses on your tongue before he releases it with a loud pop. "Go on, baby. You know it's more fun for me when you beg."

[shybluebirdninja]

MASTERLIST

James 'Logan' Howlett (The Wolverine)

Bucky Barnes (The Winter Soldier)

[inevitablysomber-dark]

Under The Radar

Complete

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

[sosa2imagines]

Yours, ours, mine.

Warnings- Jealousy, manipulation, gaslighting, somnophilia, drunk makeout, degrading women (not reader), murder, drugging, non/dubcon, forcing. If you find any more warnings, please let me know. (7.7K words) --------------------------------------- Steve watches the shape of your hips, as you reach for the ingredients on the top shelf. The way your back bends to reach them. His eyes move, from the length of your legs and the curve of your butt, to the way your chest jiggles. He watches the way you walk, with every sway of your hips. He can’t help the feeling of blood, rushing to a very specific part of his body, as he watches you.

When Steve went in past, to return the stones, he thought about staying behind. He tried to like the past, but something was missing.

The past was just too bland, boring and dull for his taste.

As for Peggy? She is very... decent and hardworking, but no fun.

So, Steve came back.

Bucky, Sam and Bruce, who were impatiently waiting for him to return, were relieved to see him back.

“I thought you won’t come back? What changed your mind?” Bucky asked, “Past is boring without you, it’s not for me.” Steve replied.

Though, he did give his shield to Sam. Announcing his retirement, with a promise of, always being there for them and the world. Steve went on a lone journey across the world.

The modern world was meant for him. He was no longer, the skinny Steve or Captain America, with the responsibility of the world, on his shoulders. He was a free bird now. He loves the life, he was living now.

Just traveling, hooking with random girls, who would willingly bend for him, just the way he wants.

After a year of traveling, he came back home. But his apartment was no longer his, and he didn’t want to live in the compound, so he decided to go to Bucky’s place.

When he knocked on the door, he was expecting a surprised Bucky, but instead he sees you. Steve was stunned and speechless when he saw you standing in the doorway of Bucky’s house. You were beyond gorgeous and immediately captivated his mind, Steve immediately felt himself drawn to you. He saw you and now he wanted you.

You smiled as you saw him return home, and you greet him, your smile was not fake but genuine. “Steve...” You knew who he was, but not the dark truths within him. He has gone on many adventures and now he was back home; however, the memories of those adventures and of his past life had faded, as he saw you standing in the doorway.

His breath hitched as he heard your voice, your soft and sultry voice captured his attention. Maybe you know him as Captain America. But it does not matter, he would love to hear his name, again and again from your sweet lips.

He stood there, staring intently at you for a moment, before snapping himself out of it. Just as Steve was about to ask you, who you were, he heard another voice, Bucky's voice. “Doll, who is it?” Bucky's voice pulled him out of his dazed state of mind.

 Bucky came next to you, kissing your temple, wrapping his arm around your waist, before looking directly at Steve. Steve was jealous seeing you and Bucky so close and affectionate. He tried not to show the feelings of jealousy he had within, he tried his best to act normal and not show off any of the emotions he was currently going through.

“Steve, what a surprise”, Bucky let’s go of you, to give Steve a brotherly hug. “Yeah... yeah it's good to see you again Buck.” Steve tried to compose himself, he knew he had to play it cool and not let himself get overwhelmed with jealousy. Bucky was happy to see him and that was all that mattered... for now.

Bucky, chuckles and introduces you to Steve, “Steve, this is uh Y/n...my wife” Steve was shocked, you were Bucky's wife. “Yours”, Steve choked. He was surprised by it; he hadn't expected Bucky to be in a relationship... much less with someone as beautiful as you.

“A pleasure to meet you.” Steve said, forcing a smile. He was trying his best to act normal and friendly, but he was internally struggling with the feelings, he had now, knowing you were married to Bucky. “Nice to meet you too.”

Bucky puts his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he smiled at Steve. His smile, unlike Steve's, was genuine, he was happy to see Steve back again.

As you all settle into the house, Bucky begins to tell Steve, how he met you in his absence, how they fell in love and decided to get married. Steve tried his best to focus on the story, he needed to act like he wasn't losing his mind inside. He needed to act like he cared, but all he could really focus on, was you beside him.

Steve was having trouble concentrating. He kept glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, he was just so damn attracted to you.

As time went by, it was time for Steve to leave. Bucky and you knew, he didn't have any apartment, “Where are you going to stay though? You don't have your apartment anymore...” Bucky asked in concern.

“Guess... I'll head back to the compound.” Steve made a sad face, hoping you both will buy it. Steve's plan was to crash in with Bucky, however he didn't know you will be here, let alone be married to Bucky. So, he had to act a little.

“Don't be stupid, you are staying with us. We have a spare bedroom. Come on it will be just like old times. Please stay with us.”

“No, no it's fine... I can find somewhere else to stay. I don't want to impose on you guys.” He said, trying to hide the fact that he was desperate to stay with you both.

Bucky tried to convince Steve to stay with them, saying that he would be happy if Steve stayed with them, and that he could go on missions without worrying, because Steve could look after you. Steve can protect you. Steve's eyes widened a bit at hearing this, but he quickly composed himself, pretending like nothing was wrong.

Of course, he'll look after you, take care of you, protect you and...

“Please, stay with us. It would be wonderful to have you around and I know it'll make my wife happy too, won't it, doll?”

“Yes, yes it will.” You chime in, “I would love to have Steve around to keep me company, while you're off on missions.” Bucky chuckles and looks at Steve, hoping that he agrees to stay.

That was all Steve needed, he hugged you and made it look like it was just a friendly gesture.

He watches the way Bucky is with you. He sees the way he looks at you, the way he touches you, the way he kisses you. He longs for that. He fantasizes about having what the two of you have. He can’t help but let his mind wander and wish that he had, what the two of you have. It’s almost like he’s living vicariously through your relationship. He even starts wondering what it would be like to be with you instead.

He begins to think about, the possibility of being with you. He even begins to imagine the two of you together, having breakfast every morning, the intimate moments you would share, and the life you would have together. It’s almost as if he can feel the sensations of touch and emotion through his imagination, almost like his fantasies are becoming real.

Every time Bucky called you ‘doll’, Steve would cringe. You are not ‘doll’, you are ‘angel’, his angel… made with perfection.

He’s hooked up random girls, but it’s not the same. He can’t stop thinking about you. No one else can fill him the way, he is filled by just the thought of you. Every time he’s with another girl, he’s pretending, that they’re you. He’s closes his eyes and imagines that she’s you. It’s your name he’s moaning instead of hers.

Every time he comes, he moans your name.

No matter, how hard he pounds the girl from behind, it was your name falling from his mouth. Steve had a condition for the hook ups, don’t make any noise, don’t disturb him and don’t ask any questions.

You walk around the house freely, not knowing about Steve’s obsession. You’re completely unaware of the way he watches every move you make, the way he fantasizes about you. You’re completely unaware of the way his mind wanders when he sees you, of the way he can’t stop thinking about you. You’re completely unaware of the way he craves you.

No matter where you stood, he found some reason to go there and to just be in close proximity to you. To watch you move, to watch you laugh, to watch you breathe even. He loved to watch you do literally anything.

Steve was in awe of you, over the fact, that you were not aware of his love and lust for you. He was there beside you, doing everything he could, to act normal, when in reality, he wanted to grab you by your waist and pull you close to him.

Soon he starts collecting, your bra and panties, as souvenirs. He starts stealing pieces of your lingerie and taking them back to his room, as a way to feel closer to you. He can’t help but stare at the stolen items, when he’s alone, imagining how sexy they look, on your body. He can’t help but sniff and touch the pieces, feeling how soft and silky they are, imagining how they felt, to touch your body as you wore them.

As his normal routine, he was quietly going through your wardrobe, admiring your lingerie, when he heard the bathroom door open. He quickly hid behind the curtains, realizing that it must be you, coming out of the bathroom. Steve was turned on, seeing you naked.

He can’t help, but stare at your naked body, as you come out of the bathroom. The desire he’s been feeling for you, suddenly amplifies as he stares at your naked body. He imagines touching you, kissing your body, tasting your skin. He imagines what it would feel like, to explore every inch of your body, with his hands. He’s completely entranced by your beauty and can’t take his eyes off of you. He’s so turned on, by every inch of you, that he can barely breathe.

The way your wet hair dripped, on your breast, he wanted to suck them. Your body was a work of art to him and he couldn't help but feel the urge, to just grab you and take you then and there.

He had a need to be taken care of. He shamelessly opens the button of his jeans and unzipped his fly, pulling out his hard cock. Steve spit into his hand as he kept his eyes trained on you. His fingers wrapped around his hardness and he stroked roughly. He was so lost in the naked sight of you, he couldn’t help himself. He saw Bucky coming in, grabbing you from behind, one hand groping your breast, while the other playing with your clit.

You were whimpering and trembling, while he slipped his fingers inside you. The way your hips moved, the way you gasped, and the way your face flushed, when you came. Steve made a mess of himself, stuffing your panties in his mouth, to muffle any sound from him.

Few days later, the dimly lit room throbbed, with the monotonous rhythm of bodies. Steve, lost in the familiar cycle of seeking oblivion, barely registered, the woman beneath him. He was miles away, the image of you consuming his thoughts. As the climax approached, his voice rough with exertion, a single word escaped his lips, shattering the empty charade.

“Y/n” he groaned, the name echoing in the confines of the room.

The woman beneath him froze. Her movements ceased, replaced by a sudden stillness. Then, she ripped away from him, her eyes blazing with fury. She broke the rule, Steve had set, as she questions him. “What the hell was that?” she spat, her voice laced with ice. “Does not matter to you! Keep your filthy mouth shut and open it, for the only good use it has.”

The girl's grip tightened on Steve's hair, her voice a low growl. “Y/n? You mean wife of Bucky Barnes?” The girl recognized your name, as she had heard it in the news. Much to Bucky’s dismay, when you both got married, the media had leaked your name. Steve's eyes snapped open, his face flushing crimson. “Let go of me!” he snarled, shoving her back.

She stumbled, but recovered quickly, a cruel smile twisting her lips. “Oh, I think I will. Unless you want your little secret to get out, former Captain America.”

Steve stood, his jaw clenched. “Are you threatening me?”

“Oh, it's a blackmail, alright,” she sneered, “a mistake that could cost you, your reputation, maybe even land you in jail. Unless, you compensate me for my silence.”

Steve's eyes narrowed. “You're a disgusting slut.”

“Money talks, sweetheart. And right now, you're talking broke. How pathetic, falling for a married woman.” She laughs and that was enough to tick his jaw.

Steve grabbed her throat, lifting her up in the air. The girl struggled, kicking her feet, desperately trying to free herself. Steve’s hold was strong, within seconds, he snapped her neck. He threw her body on the floor, glaring hard, fuming with anger. He was pacing back and forth.

As he drops her dead body, in the ocean, Steve’s twisted mind makes him feel proud, that he can kill anyone for you, do anything for you.

Driven by this newfound obsession, Steve devised a plan. He surreptitiously installed a hidden camera, in your bedroom and bathroom, the burning desire to see you.

Later that night, the grainy footage flickered to life on his screen. His breath hitched as you and Bucky shed your clothes, the sight of your bare skin a revelation. He watched, heart hammering against his ribs, as you moved together, a silent symphony of passion.

He found himself fixated on your curves, the way the light played across your skin, a stark contrast to the shadows that danced on Bucky's form. The image of watching you and Bucky through the hidden camera, was a secret pleasure he revelled in.

He'd always admired your beauty, the way your curves moved, the way your skin seemed to glow, under the soft lamplight. But witnessing your intimacy with Bucky, had twisted that admiration into something monstrous. The sight of Bucky's hand trailing down your bare back, the way your moans filled the room, fuelled a fire within him.

He replayed the scene in his mind, the stolen glimpses of your naked form, a forbidden fruit he couldn't tear himself away from. He felt a thrill at the possessiveness, that surged through him, a twisted sense of ownership over something that wasn't his. As he came, making a mess on the bed. He had to have you.

When Bucky is out for work, Steve takes the opportunity to get touchy with you. He starts with friendly touches, but the touching soon becomes bolder. You didn't mind the friendly touches, but when he got bolder, you politely tried to maintain distance.

He kept pushing, to see how far he could go, and he didn't like, that you were keeping your distance, from him. He wanted more than friendly touches, and he kept trying to get you to let him get closer, to let him touch you in ways, that Bucky wouldn't like. He didn't care that you were trying to maintain distance; he just wanted more.

He comes up with a solution. You were making tea, when Steve came in. “Let me serve you the tea, it'll give me a chance to spend time with you,” says Steve. “Okay.” You smile.

He puts sleeping pills in your cup, making sure to mix it with the sugar in the tea. He waits for the pills to kick in.

Once you fall asleep, Steve picks you up and carries you to bed. He gently undresses you, taking his time with the process. He gently removes your clothes, letting his hands glide, over your body as he does so.

His hands explore your body, like he's worshipping you. His hands roam over your curves, tracing every inch of your skin. He can't help but worship you, can't help but touch you, can't help but feel the heat of your body against his own. He takes his time with every touch, with every exploration. He wants to savor this moment, to indulge in the feeling of your body, in ways he's only been able to fantasize about before.

He kisses you softly, tasting your lips, lightly nibbling your neck. Gently kneading your boobs, before dragging his fingers further down. He takes your breast in his mouth, sucking on it like his life depends on it. While his fingers, trace between your thighs, pushing your legs apart. “Gonna make you feel so good...” Steve whispers, as if you can hear him. Steve’s fingers graze your clit, drawing circles around your sensitive nub, with your slick. He teases your entrance.

One by one, his fingers are in you, gently stroking you, hitting that spot inside you, that has your breathing get heavier. Steve swirled his fingers in your slick, before he pulled away from your breast, bringing his fingers to his mouth, to taste you. Steve gently slipped his fingers back inside you. He moved slowly, circling the tip before shoving his fingers back in, watching your face. 

While he played with your pussy with one hand, Steve reached into his sweatpants and gripped his cock. He stroked himself slowly, wanting to draw out, as long as he could. Steve pushed gently against your tight little hole. You were wet enough, for his fingers to slide inside easily. He took it slow, as he continued to push inside until his fingers were buried deep inside. If you felt that good around his fingers, Steve couldn’t even imagine, how perfect you’d feel on his cock. His fist gripped the base of his shaft. Steve curled his fingers inside you and pumped gently in and out of your pussy. His thumb stroked over your little button. He fucked your pussy with his fingers, as he stroked his cock.

Your tight walls, were clenching around his fingers. Steve rubbed your button harder, drawing out your release, while your wetness coated his fingers and hand. 

Steve stuck his wet fingers in his mouth, and groaned when he tasted your sweet, release. While his other hand pumped, his cock faster. He chased his release, until he found it, his face buried in the crook of your neck. Steve came with a muffled moan, his cum spurting up all over your thigh. He did clean you, before dressing you up again and leaving you alone in the room.

When you got up, you felt weird and little tired, but you waved it off. The following days, you felt the same way, whenever you woke up from your nap. But you just blamed it on the chores, having no other reason.

A few nights later you, Bucky, and Steve went to the local bar. The night was going well, with all three of you enjoying yourselves. Steve purposely gets you, stronger alcohol, without your or Bucky's knowledge, wanting to make sure, that you get more intoxicated, than just being tipsy.

Bucky sits on a bar stool, occupying himself with his phone, as you and Steve dance together. You lean against Steve, thinking that he's Bucky. Steve instantly takes advantage of this, dancing sensually with you, touching you. He doesn't want to miss this opportunity, not when he's so close to you. He wants to feel your body pressed against his, to feel your breath against his neck, to hear how your breathing changes as you become more and more intoxicated. He wants you, and he wants you now.

It doesn't take long for you to become more intoxicated, and as you look up, Steve's eyes are locked on you. He's staring at you, watching your eyes begin to droop, and your movements become heavier. He's enjoying himself, watching you get more and more drunk, letting the alcohol do its magic. He's excited at the thought of what he might get to do once you're so intoxicated that you won't be able to push him away.

In a lucky coincidence, Bucky has to go to the compound for some work, telling Steve to take care of you. This is the perfect opportunity for Steve to take advantage of you, to make his move, to make you his. He tells Bucky that he'll take good care of you, that he'll get you back home safely. Bucky, trusting Steve, thinks nothing of this and leaves, leaving the two of you alone together.

With Bucky out of the way and out of the picture, Steve takes it as his chance, to act on his desires for you. His hands start wandering over your intoxicated body slowly, kneading your ass, exploring every inch of you. He can't help but feel a rush of excitement, as he touches you, as he feels the heat of your body against his own.

He cups between your legs, his free hand holding you in place, as his lips find your neck. He wants more than just touches, he wants to feel your breath against his neck, wants to hear you moan. He wants you, and he knows that he has the opportunity to make that happen.

Steve eagerly takes you home, taking you into his bedroom. He's been waiting for this moment for so long, wanting you in his bed, needing you to be with him. He's been waiting to have your body with him, to feel the heat of you against him. He wants this moment to last as long as possible, wanting to savor every second of it. He wants to spend the whole night with you, wants to explore your body, in ways that he's only ever been able to fantasize about.

Steve gently pressed his lips against yours in such an affectionate way, his teeth gently tugged on your lower lip, as he pushed his tongue past your lips, deepening the kiss. He undresses you slowly, wanting to take his time with the process. He doesn't want to rush this; he wants to relish in every moment.

He kisses your neck, nibbles it gently, as his hands roam over your body, touching every inch of you. You moan, but instead of moaning his name, you let out a soft moan of Bucky's name. This immediately fills him with anger, and he pulls back, not wanting you to ruin this moment by you calling out someone else's name.

Steve is determined to make you moan his name. He whispers into your ear, his breath hot and heavy against your skin as he whispers, “Say 'Steve',” he doesn't want to hear Bucky's name, he doesn't want anything, but the thrill of hearing your voice call his name, as he makes you moan with pleasure. He wants your attention completely, and he wants you to want him. He tells you again, but this time he doesn't whisper it, he makes it an order. “Say it. Say my name. Say 'Steve'.”

“Steve…” Your intoxicated brain starts to obey his command, and without even realizing it, you moan his name in your drunken haze. His lips still against your neck, he hears you moan his name and immediately his grip on you tightens, and he breathes a heavy sigh of relief and he can finally feel the satisfaction of you moaning his name instead of Bucky's.

He keeps kissing you, his hands roaming over your body, touching every inch of you. He can't get enough of your body, your touch. He leaned down, capturing one of your nipples between his lips and starting to suck on it, your voice sobbing his name. It's everything he's ever imagined and more, and every moment feels like paradise.

He moves slightly, tilting your hips to give him a better angle, in your drunken haze, you automatically wrap your legs around his waist. He wants to get the most out of this moment and your body, wanting you to feel every touch, every angle, everything he makes you do, to get you where he wants you. He knows you're intoxicated, and he knows he can get away with anything right now, and he intends to take advantage of that.

Due to his enhanced hearing, his ears perk up, and he can immediately recognize that it's Bucky's bike. He instantly stops what he's about to do and listens for any signs of Bucky's approach. He hears the bike approaching and getting closer, and he realizes that he's out of time. There's no way that he's going to be able to finish, what he had planned and get you back to your room before Bucky arrives. He's frustrated, and he lets out a small curse under his breath, having to stop due to Bucky's surprise arrival.

He puts you to bed, making sure you're comfortably covered with blankets and tucked in. He closes the bedroom door firmly behind him as he exits, only to find Bucky standing there in the hallway. He acts innocent, “Just checking on her.”

Bucky smiles, thinking that Steve is just being a considerate friend. He has no idea, that Steve was about to take things much farther, than just checking in on you.

Steve is filled with anger and desire. He's angry that Bucky interrupted, what he was about to do with you, but he's even more angry that he had to stop. After having you so close to him, his touch, his lips on your lips, neck and all over your body, he's filled with a need for more. His anger and desire both combine and amplify each other, driving him mad. He wants to be buried balls deep in you.

As Bucky was about to head in the bedroom, Steve stops him, “Hey can we talk?” “Sure what is it?” Bucky asks, motioning him to join him on the couch.

“What would you have done if I wasn't there to look after her in the bar, how would you have managed?” Steve asks, trying to guilt and pressure Bucky into trusting him, trying to drive a wedge between him and you. “I'm sure she would've been fine, she knows how to handle herself…” Bucky responds.

“Are you sure? She looked a bit tipsy, she probably would've ended up in some situations, that she wouldn't have been able to handle.” Steve retorts, testing the waters, to assess Bucky's reaction. “Ye...yes I’m sure…” Bucky replies, but the doubt in his voice, was not gone unnoticed by Steve.

Steve leaves for his room, walking away, with a smug smile on his face, “Whatever you say, Buck.” 

As Bucky lies awake next to you, unable to stop thinking about, what Steve said. He starts to doubt his previous conviction, that you would've been fine. He starts to think about what would've happened, had Steve not been there to watch over you. He imagines you getting into various uncomfortable and dangerous situations, with Steve's comments filling him with guilt.

He realizes that he might've underestimated your vulnerability. The thought of something happen to you, or you getting in trouble is worrying him. He regrets not being there to look after you, to keep you safe.

Over the next few days, Steve continues to undermine Bucky's confidence, using this new found uncertainty, to further instil fear and doubts in his mind.

“What if she gets bored of being alone for months, when you're off on missions?” he says, “What if she starts looking for company elsewhere?” It's a loaded question, one that strikes at Bucky's biggest insecurity, regarding his relationship with you. He's suddenly full of worries about you being alone, without him, for long periods of time.

He presses harder on Bucky's insecurities, driving his point home and instilling even more fear and doubt in his mind.

“What if she starts feeling neglected and unfulfilled?” Steve says. “What if she starts looking for someone to fulfil her needs while you're away?” These are the perfect statements, to erode Bucky's trust in you, make him wonder if you're truly content in your relationship with him.

“What if she finds someone else?” he continues. “What if she finds someone who can give her the satisfaction and fulfilment that she's missing because you're not there?” The thought alone would drive any committed partner frantic, and Bucky is no different; the thought of you being with someone else, enjoying their company and getting attention from someone, other than him, would kill him inside.

“She's so innocent,” he says, playing on Bucky's guilt. “You're constantly gone and she's all alone, waiting by her phone for your messages or calls, constantly anxious, about when you'll be back.” He's preying on Bucky's guilt of not always being there for you, of always leaving for long periods of time, leaving you alone to figure things out for yourself. He's using this to make him feel insecure and inadequate, to make him feel like he's failing as a husband to you.

Bucky tells him to stop, pleading with him to let the matter go.

“Stop,” he says firmly, “you're only making it worse. I could be doing so much more to make her happy, could be giving her what she needs, instead of leaving her alone and vulnerable for months on end.” The doubt and insecurities, that Steve has instilled in him, all comes out at once, his feelings of inadequacy and his fear of not being able to adequately take care of you.

Bucky’s pleading only spurs Steve even further. He doubles down on his efforts to get under Bucky’s skin.

“Stop what?” he asks. “Just stop telling the truths?” he continues, taking it a step further. “So you're fine with her feeling neglected and unfulfilled? You're fine with her waiting anxiously for you to return, even though you're not sure when that might be?” he says, pressing harder on that guilt button.

“If it was up to me Buck...I would have taken good care of her. After all she’s ours.” Bucky ignores this bizarre choice of wording, he doesn't pick up on the fact, that Steve is claiming you as his own, as something that they share, instead of something that's strictly Bucky's. The more he's forced to confront his own feelings of inadequacy, the less Bucky thinks about the finer details, and he easily looks past the odd slip up in wording.

Bucky falls right into Steve's trap without a second thought. He lets his guard down and makes the unfortunate mistake of saying the one thing, Steve's been gunning to hear him say all along.

“Steve, you can look after her,” Bucky says, giving Steve full permission to take over and spend time with you, making him responsible for fulfilling all your needs and desires.

This is exactly what Steve wanted. He wanted to undermine Bucky's confidence and plant the seeds of doubt in his mind. And it worked perfectly

Steve can't hold back his triumph when he sees that his manipulation plan is already working. His smirk grows a bit bigger, and he takes on a more innocent and nonchalant attitude when he replies to Bucky.

“I don't know... Are you sure about this?” his tone is soft, the words slightly hesitant, as if he's not quite sure he should do it, but is open to the possibility. But deep down, Steve knows exactly what he's doing, and he's more than confident in taking on this new role in your life. He's more than willing to be responsible for fulfilling his your needs and fulfilling his your desires, and he's more than ready to take the place of a husband, the place of Bucky. 

Bucky assures him, “Yes, I'm sure. I trust you. I know that you care deeply about her, and that you'll take good care of her.” Bucky trusts Steve and believes he'll treat you with the upmost respect.

But Steve knows that he's already got Bucky, right where he wants him, and that all he needs to do is play the innocent role for a little while longer, before he drops his facade and finally gets what he's been after this entire time, you.

Bucky receives a mission call, one that requires him to leave immediately for work, something about the power broker. He's relieved knowing that his best friend is going to take care of you while he's gone, and that takes some of the guilt off his shoulders. But little does he know; this is exactly the outcome Steve was looking for.

You're completely oblivious to what's just happened, to the entire situation playing out, between Steve and Bucky. The thought that Steve would try to seize his opportunity and that he's been planning this for a while never crosses your mind. You just think that this is another evening with them, not realizing that it'll be one of the most defining nights of your life.

After Bucky leaves, Steve starts to make his move on you.

Steve gets you a glass of milk, mixing in a small quantity of sleeping powder, to make its effects stronger. He brings the glass to you, passing it off as a friendly gesture, in the hopes that you'll drink it.

You decline politely, saying that you're missing Bucky. This angers Steve, and he tries to mask his anger through a friendly smile.

“Come on, don't tell me you can't have a glass of milk, without him being here.” he says.

“No, it's not that,” you say. “I'm just not really craving anything right now.”

“But it's just a glass of milk,” he counters back, his tone and facial expression becoming slightly more insistent. “It won't hurt you to have a small glass of milk...”

You refuse again. Steve can see that his attempts, to manipulate you into drinking the milk, are not working, and his anger is growing more and more. He's not used to not getting his way, and this whole situation, that he has carefully planned and carried out, is not going the way he wanted to. He refuses to give up, and his tone becomes slightly more aggressive.

“Just have some, just try it. Come on,” he says, his voice beginning to take on a more insistent tone.

You get a little angry at his persistence, feeling slightly more annoyed at his insistent demands. “No, you keep insisting, but I keep saying I don't want it,” you reply, raising the volume. “I said no, and I meant it. I don't want any milk right now, so just let it go”.

“Just drink the fucking milk!” Steve yells at you, making your flinch. His anger breaking the mask that he had been wearing up until now. He does not care about being the loving and caring friend anymore, and he shows his true colors. He does not care, all he cares about is getting what he wants. He notices that this has a profound effect on you, and he smirks, seeing that he's managed to scare you.

You take a few sips to pacify him, although the taste of the milk makes you feel a bit weird. “What's in the milk?” you ask as you try, to set the glass down, but the room spins before your eyes.

Steve smiles at you, and his tone becomes less aggressive. “Oh, just something special to help you relax…” he says, with a smug smile. He watches you set the glass down, having a little bit of trouble remaining upright, that the effects of the sleeping powder, is starting to take hold on you. Your speech is getting slightly slurred, and you seem to be stumbling a little bit. He keeps a close watch on you, making sure, that these changes are happening. the way he planned.

Steve sees that you're in a vulnerable position, and he wastes no time in making his move. He takes you by surprise, taking advantage of the sleeping powder. He moves closer to you, slowly moving his hands onto your body, taking you in, while you're still conscious, but too sleepy to fully protest, what's happening.

“Shh, just relax,” he says. “Don't worry, it's all right, everything's fine…” he continues, stroking your hair as he speaks, his hands slowly traveling over your body.

He wraps his arms around you, pressing his nose into your shoulder. “It’s okay, we are not doing anything wrong…just enjoy.” He sighed, his nose running over your neck, his lips connecting and leaving gentle kisses all along the skin.

“No...no…I'm married...Bucky…” You try to remind him, but everything comes out as slurred. 

“Bucky knows and approves.” he tells you, which only adds to your confusion and the disorientation you're feeling, from the sleeping powder in your system. He starts to undress himself and you, leading you to the bedroom, leaving you little chance to resist, as your body feels increasingly heavy and tired and your mind becomes less alert and aware.

Steve continues his advances, as he's been wanting this for a long time, and now he finally has his chance and is going to take it. He's going to take you.

“You have no idea, how much I have come seeing you naked, seeing you getting worked up by Bucky.” Your eyes widen with shock and Steve just chuckles, patting your cheek, “I'll tell you about it some other time.”

Once Steve has stripped you completely, he lets you go to remove his own bottom, leaving you feeling completely vulnerable, exposed and helpless in his presence.

He smiles at you as you try, to escape the room on wobbly legs, not able to resist anymore, because of the sleeping powder and the effect on you. He catches you easily with his hands, grabbing your shoulders and pulling you back into his grip. “You are not going anywhere, angel...” he says, smirking at you as he makes his intentions all the clear.

“Now, let's have some fun,” he whispers, putting his hands back on your body, ready to finally have, his way with you. You try to struggle, to resist for a few seconds, but your body grows so feeble that it's almost pointless. He picks you up with ease, carrying you to the bed, and lowers you down on the bed, hovering over you, ready to finally take you.

“There's no point in fighting anymore…” his voice grows slightly more aggressive, taking on a more demanding tone, as he makes his intentions all the clear. “Just lay quiet for me, ‘angel’,” he demands, the word coming across as more of an order, than a gentle pet name.

“You're all mine now!” he tells you, not quite whispering but keeping his voice soft and low, trying to disguise the sinister undertones of his words. His hands greedily cup your breasts. “Mine” he groaned.

His kisses and bites were getting a little rougher now. His hips grinding against yours, as he worked his way over your collarbone. With each kiss on your skin, he kept moaning “mine”, almost as if he's trying to reassure himself as much as you.

He lifted his head, a cocky smirk on his lips as he looked at the love bites, now dotting along your skin. He was proud of his work, that cocky smirk still on his face.

“Please,” you try to plead, your voice barely audible and your body so weak, that it's barely enough effort, to get the word out. But Steve is not swayed by your plea, and he's not about to stop what he has already started.

“Please?” he repeats your plea, a smirk spreading on his lip as he says it. He knows that you're not in a position to resist whatsoever, that it would be pointless for you to even try. “Please what?” he asks, his voice taking on a more aggressive tone, demanding.

He gave you a soft smile, rubbing circles against your hips.

“I will make you feel so good, just relax my angel... Let it happen.” 

He leans closer and captures your lips again, his teeth nibbled at your bottom lip, before tugging gently on it, letting his tongue inside your mouth. A moan escaped your throat when his fingers traced your pussy, his fingers glistening from your wetness.

Steve feels your body's reaction to his touches, the way it continues to grow warmer in his hands, as well as the pressure of his body on yours. He knows that it's working, that his plan is taking effect. He presses up against you even more, letting his hands roam even more, trying to get your body into a full response.

Between your moans, you take Bucky's name, which immediately catches Steve's attention. His grip begins to tighten on you a little bit, his movements becoming rougher, as he realizes that you are remembering Bucky. He doesn't like that you're thinking of Bucky, and he wants to make sure that your whole mind and your whole body is on him.

He bites your neck harshly, making you scream and cry, not caring about how much it hurts you, just focusing on getting control over you, and stopping you from thinking about Bucky.

“I'll take care of your needs, angel…just say my name, focus on me.” He slid his index and middle fingers inside you, slowly dipping down, deep into your core. He started to move in and out. He licked his lips, as his tongue met his fingers, making you whine. He started to thrust his fingers faster, his tongue circling your button. His tongue was driving you crazy, at how good it felt against your clit.

His tongue placing fast, licks to your clit, the pleasure wrapped you up once more in its tendrils. You panted for air, as your pussy clenched around him, and when he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked, you were done.

The sensation of his fingers and tongue, simultaneously begin to overwhelm you, your cries slowly turn into moans, and you start uttering his name “Steve” instead, making him happy.

“We are not done yet angel…” Steve cooed at you, seeing your flushed face. “You're going to take my cock like an angel you are. I’m going to fuck you so good angel.” Steve said, as he squeezes one of your breast, while sucking the other.

Steve pulled your legs apart; he took a good look at your pussy and licked his lips. You couldn’t do anything now.

Spreading your legs, he sniffed your cunt. He fisted his cock, ready to impale your pussy.

Rubbing the tip of his cock, Steve was gentle, to enter inside you. You let out a muffled groan. You were warm, your pussy accepted him easily. “So fucking tight and warm for me, my angel.” Steve began to move. His moans getting louder, with each thrust. His hands comfortably rested on your waist, as he moved in and out.

Steve kissed you deeply. He was determined to prove he was better for you. Better than Bucky. Throwing your leg on his shoulder, he found himself a new angle. Allowing him to go deeper.

“So good for me angel...”

You were trapped, but your pleasure was building, with each thrust.

You let out a moan, making him go faster.

You were clenching around him, your body begging him to let you cum. “St…Steve…please…”

Steve lowered himself on you, putting pressure on your stomach, he kissed you passionately. He could feel you clench around him and he wanted more. His hand smoothly reached between your bodies, he began to rub your clit.

You moaned into the kiss, as you came hard, Steve not far behind. “I'm... I'm gonna come angel...” he pants as he nears his climax.

“N...no...not...inside...” you manage to tell him with your slurred speech. But Steve just tuts you, thrusting harder. “I know you are on pills, angel.”

He spent himself inside you. Still thrusting, making sure not to waste a single drop. Filling you up to the brim. He collapsed on top of you, catching his breath. Your body was trembling and quivering beneath him.

He pecks your lips once again, as he lays you gently on his chest, your head resting peacefully on him. He caresses your hair, a small smirk on his lips, as this was only the beginning, that soon he will have you all to himself. He will separate you from Bucky, it's only a matter of time right now.

As you fall asleep on Steve, he takes his phone and calls someone, presumably someone that he's hoping to utilize in the future. He doesn't let you go, as he makes the call, and keeps his arm wrapped tightly around you, gently caressing your hair as he talks on the phone.

“I can help you, to get back into the states.” “Oh my god, Steve?” “I need you to do something for me.” “Of course, anything!!!” “Good, wait for my further instructions.”

He ends the call and rests, keeping you tightly against him. He starts to dream about his future with you, visualizing all the things he wants to do with you, all the things he wants to take control of. He is already beginning to fantasize about the life that he is going to create with you, how he is going to make this into everything he has ever dreamed of having.

He dreams about his future with you, visions of you as his wife, mother of his kids. He has replaced your pills with calcium tablets. You two will be, more and more prevalent, and living together and being totally devoted to each other, leaving Bucky behind in the past.

You are not doll; you are his angel.

Only his... “Mine”

TAGLIST- @imyourbratzdoll @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @ilovetaquitosmmmm

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@whore-for-chris-evans @caplanreblogsfics

[late-to-the-party-81]

Colourblind

AN: this was written for Roo’s Mini March Madness and my prompts were Shoelaces, plaid shirt and panties in the mouth. I hope this tickles your fancy @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

Beta’d by Tits McGee herself, @yarnforbrains 

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and moodboard/banner by me 

Master list

Relationship: Dark! Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

CW: THIS IS A DARK FIC! Non-Con, Steve is a ‘nice guy’, Manipulation, Invasion of privacy, Kidnap, Knocking out (through removal of air flow), Forced Orgasm, Somnophilia, Bondage, ‘Basement Wifing’, Delusion.

With your eyes closed and your arms outstretched, you took a deep breath and took in the fresh air, feeling the warm sun on your skin. This was the new start that you needed. 

When the way that you worked changed due to  the pandemic, you took the opportunity to make the most of remote working and gave up the parts of the corporate rat-race you hated. You sold your soul-less apartment in the city and moved up-state to the rolling hills and tall mountains, where you could reconnect with nature and heal your inner self.

Years of stress, compounded by bad relationship after bad relationship had left you hankering for solitude. You still had some parts of your job that had to be done in person, but travelling back to the city for two nights a month didn’t seem so bad when the rest of the time you would be here, in your simple woodland sanctuary.

This move hadn’t been done totally on a whim; you’d done research into where you could be that was out of the way enough, but wouldn’t leave you struggling with all the chores needed. In the end you’d managed to find a place that had an electricity supply for lights and an internet connection, so you wouldn’t have to worry about a generator, but still required a wood burner for heating and hot water. That you could manage. Your mail would go to a PO box at the general store in the local town, and you planned to go once a week to stock up on the basics.

You’d arrived yesterday and spent most of the time since your arrival unpacking and sorting. But this morning when you’d awoken, the sun coming in through the curtains had been so inviting there was no way you could immediately resume your inside tasks without doing a little exploring and getting that peace that you’d moved here for.

You did have a vague idea of what the local area was like - you’d researched that as well, but you hadn’t had the chance to explore on foot before your arrival. You knew that in addition to  the rough road that led to town, there was a small path, worn by pairs of feet over the years, to the neighbouring property that sat about 2 miles away. You supposed now was as good a time as any other to introduce yourself to your new neighbour - it would be a blessing if you could be on good terms with them.

You made your way along the narrow track, enjoying the way the trees formed a canopy, letting dappled light through. The area was teeming with life, and you saw more flowers in 100 yards than you ever saw from the window of your old apartment. In the distance, you saw a few deer, and you stilled and held your breath as they lifted their heads, scented you on the air, and then disappeared further into the trees. Then, on top of that were all the birds. You had no interest in ornithology, but even your untrained eyes and ears could pick out half a dozen different species. All in all, the walk was exactly what you’d hoped it would be - a soul soothing experience. Hopefully, if all went well with your neighbour and you made a new friend, it would be one you’d repeat regularly.

The path in front of you widened and the trees thinned, and between them you could see another cabin, similar to your own. As you approached, you could hear a rhythmic noise, and it took you a moment to realise it was the sound of wood being competently split with an axe. You blinked as you came out of the shade, using your hand to shield your eyes, and you followed the sound around the side of the cabin, ready to meet your neighbour.

You didn’t know exactly what you were expecting, but the apparent ‘Greek God come to life’, there in front of you, was not it. He was tall - well over 6 foot - with broad shoulders straining the seams of his plaid shirt, a narrow waist and a denim-clad ass that looked like you could easily bounce a dime off it. You stepped on a small branch that cracked under your foot and he spun round, as if anticipating trouble. You were mesmerised though. His hair, both on his head and in his beard, glowed golden in the sunlight. His blue eyes, as deep and dangerous as the ocean, held yours captive, even as they narrowed. Your body thrummed with desire, a feeling that was almost alien to you. And there was just something about him that struck you as… familiar?

“Who are you?” His voice was gruff, like he hadn’t used it in a while, although you supposed if he lived here alone and had no-one to talk to regularly, that was highly likely. You swallowed and plastered a smile onto your face, forcing your strange reaction down. You held out your hand.

“Umm, hi! I’m your new neighbour. Just moved into the cabin at the other end of the trail.” You managed to give him your name as you trailed off. You were worried for a second at his unwelcoming expression and the way he was still holding his axe, but then his lips twitched, and he swung the axe down into the chopping block. With one stride, he was suddenly closer, enclosing your hand in his much larger one.

“Nice to meet you, neighbour. I’m Steve. And welcome to the neighbourhood.” He chuckled at his little joke, and it put you at ease. “What brings you to this little slice of paradise?” He released your hand, and you found that you missed the warmth of his.

“Looking for a quieter life, really. I don’t need to be in an office all the time to do my job, so I thought I might as well pack up, move out, and lead a simpler life.” 

He looked at you, eyes searching as though trying to work out what to make of you.

“‘I’? Not ‘we’?”

You looked down at your feet, feeling small under his gaze, and started to pick at your nails.

“Definitely ‘I’. I’m hoping some time out here -  to myself - will make me better at identifying red flags.”

Steve snorted.

“Well, all the green out here should help.  What have you got planned for the rest of your day?”

His friendly attitude had you looking back up at him.

“A bit more unpacking, a bit of wood chopping for the stove, and then a run into town to sort out my PO Box and get some groceries. It’s probably going to be a bit of a rush after taking time out for a walk and coming to meet you, but I just needed to connect with nature, you know?”

“I understand perfectly, doll. ‘S why I’m out here too. Had to get away from it all and spend some time by myself. Still do a bit of consulting, every now and again, but I’m lucky enough that I don’t need to work regularly any more. Oh, and don’t worry about wood chopping - I’ve got more than enough here - I tend to go a little overboard, get lost in the repetitive action. How about I drive some round to you in a bit, and then I can give you a lift down into town? I gotta go anyway, and it seems silly for us to both use up fuel.”

You started a little at the suggestion. It felt wrong to accept the help from him, having only been acquainted for less than half an hour, as well as the ‘stranger danger’ aspect. But… it would make your life easier, and you weren’t getting any ‘weird’ vibes from him since his initial confrontational facade had worn off.

“If you’re sure you really don’t mind?” 

He smiled down at you and it lit up his face.

“Would I offer if I minded? And besides, it’s the neighbourly thing to do. Shall I come round about midday? We can head on down and then I can show you the best place to eat in town. Sound good?”

You nodded in agreement. “Sounds good, Steve.”

It was the beginning of your friendship. Steve kept you supplied with chopped wood and drove you both down to town once a week, and in return you walked over to his cabin every couple of days, bringing him pies and cookies and your conversation. When you were in town, you started shopping for groceries, and Steve would collect both your and his mail, and you’d meet up at the dinner. It was nice and uncomplicated, and you were happy to have a male friend that didn’t set your alarm bells ringing.

3 months later

“Steve?” 

It was Thursday morning, one of your regular days for coming over to see your neighbour. You’d felt a bit like ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ this morning as you’d placed the apple pie in your old style basket so you could carry it over to Steve’s cabin without damaging it. 

You were hoping that he was in a better mood today. It was clear to you that something had been bothering him the last couple of weeks. He seemed to be more worried about your safety, trying to get you to stay longer and offering to come over and check on you more often. You weren’t sure what had started his paranoia. Maybe you could drag it out of him today over a slice of pie?

However, when you arrived in the clearing and made your way around the side of his house, he wasn’t there chopping wood like he normally was. His truck was still out front though, so maybe he was inside. You trotted back around, climbing up the veranda steps to rap on the door.

“Hello! Steve?” The door was slightly ajar, and you called through the gap.

“I’m in here, honey!”

Honey? Why was Steve calling you that? Odd.

You pushed the door open and walked in. Steve was standing in the corner by his stove, a cast iron skillet resting on the top, with something sizzling within it. He wiped his hands on a dish towel and turned towards you, a wide smile on his face. You smiled in return, glad to see he was in a better mood today.

“What have you brought me, doll? You know your baking is the highlight of my week.”

You waved your hand at him in a shoo-ing gesture, feeling heat travel up your neck and to your cheeks.

“Steve! Don’t embarrass me. And if my cooking is the highlight of your week, then you need to get out more.”

He cocked his head to the side, eyes sparkling.

“But I don’t wanna get out more. Sorta the point of living all the way up here, just like you.”

He had a point

“Touche.”

You breezed past him, your cotton dress swishing around your knees, as you made your way to his kitchen counter, placing your basket upon it and lifting out the pie. Steve came up behind you and peered over your shoulder. Part of your brain was disturbed by how close he was to you, but the other part reassured you that it was just Steve. He was so big that he felt close, no matter where he was in the room in relation to you.

“Oooh, apple! How’d you know it was my favorite, doll?”

You turned your head over your shoulder to look up at him. He really was a handsome man, and if you weren’t set on your path of self improvement and being man-free, you could easily do something stupid, but you didn’t want to lose his friendship.

“Who doesn’t like apple pie?”

He chuckled.

“You won that point, sweetheart. Will you stay for lunch? I’m cooking steak.”

You were sorely tempted. It did smell delicious, and all you had planned for you back at your cabin was grilled cheese and some soup. As you contemplated you nibbled your lower lip.

“I really shouldn’t. I’ve got some work to do, and I don’t want to impose.”

“Don’t be silly, honey. You fit right in, in here. Makes it feel more homely when you’re around. But how come you’ve still got work?”

“You know, cos I work.”

His brow furrowed.

“No, you don’t.”

What?

“Umm, yes I do.”

“You are silly, doll. You did work, but you resigned, remember?”

You spun around to face him and found yourself trapped between his large frame and the counter, his arms barricading you in. A prickle of unease made its way up your spine.

“No I didn’t. I think I’d remember if I resigned from the job I love.”

“But you love me more than that silly job though, don’t you, honey? You resigned so you could be with me. Live here and keep me company and have our babies.”  He smiled at you. A smile you didn’t recognise on his face. Ducking under his arm you stomped across the room.

“I don’t know what type of joke you’re trying to make, Steve, but it’s not funny.

You started to make your way towards the door, but found yourself pulled to a stop by Steve’s arms wrapping around you. In other circumstances this would be wonderful, but with the way Steve was acting and things he was saying, you were entirely freaked out.

“Steve! Let me go! I’m not in the mood. I want to go home and I’ll speak to you later when you can be nice.”

You repressed a shiver as his face came down to your neck, his nose sliding up it, followed by his beard, that rasped and tickled over your sensitive skin.

“I am being nice, honey. And you don’t need to go anywhere. You are home.”

You tried to break out of his hold, but his arms were like steel bands around your frame.

“Steve! It’s not funny any more. I have work to do.”

He growled low in his throat, and you froze.

“I told you, you don’t have work any more. You might not have sent the letter, but I knew you wanted to be here with me. It was easy to get their address from your payslip when I picked up your mail. Told them you didn’t want to be contacted, and they just had to accept it.”

As his words settled in your brain, your struggles began anew, and with more vigour. Steve wasn’t just being strange, he was downright deluded! You kicked at his shins and tried to wriggle out of his grip, chanting “Let me go! Let me go!” But all Steve did was shush you, like you were a toddler having a tantrum.

“Shh, shh, honey. Don’t be like this. You accused me of not being nice, but what is this, huh?”

One of his large hands came up over your mouth, and he pinched your nose between his finger and thumb. Your eyes went wide with panic as your head started to swim.

“Calm down, doll. Take it easy. That’s it. That’s it. Sleep now.”

Your vision went spotty as your heels kicked ineffectually against him, your lungs burning as you started to run out of air. Then it all went dark.

Your body trembled, waves of pleasure running through you, despite the uncomfortable ache in your shoulders and arms. The ecstasy continued, and you whined, not knowing if you wanted it to stop or continue. It had been so long since you’d felt it and…

Your memory returned like a flood. Your eyes shot open to see Steve’s blue eyes looking up at you from between your legs, where he was feasting on your cunt, bringing you to your peak even as you lay unconscious. Those pools of ocean blue danced when he saw your awareness come back in, and he sucked harder, tipping your traitorous body back over the edge, moans leaving your mouth against your will.

As you came back down from your orgasm,and gained more control over yourself, you tried to shift, moving your legs up the bed and away from him, but a sudden twist caused pain to arch down your arm. That’s when you realised that both your upper limbs were bound above your head. You drew your gaze away from a grinning Steve -  a Steve whose beard was soaked from your release - to peer up at how you were tied.

Shoelaces. Tied around your wrist, loose enough that they wouldn’t cut off your blood supply, but tight enough that you couldn’t slide your hand out unless you managed to dislocate both your thumbs.

Steve crawled up the bed slowly, but you couldn’t get away. He cupped your face and kissed you, your own scent filling your nose as he forced your mouth open and invaded you with his tongue. The denim of his jeans scraped your thighs, thighs that were sensitive and raw from the burn of his beard as he’d violated you.

“Hey, welcome back, honey. Sorry I started without you, but you looked so sweet, I couldn’t help myself. Been waiting a long time, ever since Wilson and Barnes told me that a beautiful young thing was interested in the property.”

Wilson and Barnes? That was the name of the realtor company that had brokered the sale of your cabin to you. How did Steve know them?

“My old friends knew exactly what I needed in my retirement. I spent so long saving the world - it owed me. And look… it gave me you, honey. And we’re going to be so happy. I know it. You just gotta let yourself get used to it.”

He was mad. Saving the world? What on earth did he mean?

“And when you’re ready, you can be Mrs. Rogers. Would you like that, sweetheart? How many ladies get the opportunity to get married to one Captain America, while another and the Winter Soldier act as witnesses.”

Rogers? How had you gone these last months without finding out his last name? Everything slotted together like a frightening puzzle in your mind. Why you’d felt so at ease with Steve when you’d first met him, why he seemed familiar despite having never met him. It was the beard - it had been enough to stop you instantly recognising America’s Golden Boy, thought dead after the final battle against Thanos. And Sam Wilson, the new Captain America had sanctioned - had assisted! - in this kidnapping, as a favour to his old comrade.

You heard the metal sound of Steve’s jeans zipper and it triggered your fight instinct.

“No! No! Get off! I don’t want this. I don’t want this!” You bucked your hips but only succeeded in rubbing your bare mound over Steve’s bulge, encased solely by his briefs.

Steve looked down at you with condescension.

“Honey, you’re too shocked by all this to know what you want, and I think you need to stop talking before you say something you’ll regret. Let me help you with that.”

He reached to the side, to a scrap of fabric lying near your feet. He enclosed it in his large hand and brought it up to his face, eyes closing as he took a long, indrawn breath through his nose. Part of the cloth poked out from between his fingers and you recognised it as your panties.

“Fuck! Now that you’re here I can smell this delicious scent whenever I want…” He opened his eyes and looked back down at you. “...and taste it too. But right now, I need you to understand that we belong together.”

With his free hand he squeezed your cheeks, forcing your mouth open, and even as you glared at him he pushed your panties into your mouth, then stroked the side of your face with the back of his knuckles

“There. You look so pretty, honey. Hope you’re ready? You’re gonna enjoy this - I know I will.”

You knew you should still be struggling, but as he pushed his jeans off and followed it quickly with his plaid shirt, part of you knew there was no point. He was too big. Too strong. Too determined. Any resistance would probably end up with you being hurt even more.

As Steve pulled down his briefs you turned your head away, a tear rolling down your cheek. It appeared that despite your best intentions, you’d been colour blind - mistaking the red flags for green.

Tag list: @jobean12-blog @tuiccim @flordeamatista @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @seitmai @marvelstarker-mha98 @talia-rumlow @peaches1958 @pono-pura-vida @lunarbuck

[p3sephone]

Controlling (Dark! Steve Rogers)

Summary: Steve Rogers is your man and he doesn't like his girl's dress.

Warnings: toxic relationship, manipulation, coercion, misoginy, no dressing freedom. Please if you do not feel comfortable with dark themes, do not read. This character does not belong to me. Minors do NOT read. This character or any character at all doesn not belong to me, but to its own owner and creator.

"Where… where do you think you're going?" You looked at his confused and frowning look, and you on the other hand simply thought that he had forgotten about your outing with your friends. You hadn't seen them in too long. "Don't you remember? I told you that I'm going out to see my friends for a while, love, it's been a long time since I've been with them." a sweet smile and a few words like reminder were more than enough for you, but certainly not for the super soldier in front of you. His frown deepened. "I don't think it's appropriate for you to go out like this, I mean… the dress goes to mid-thigh and the neckline is too exaggerated too. I don't think it's a good idea." your bright smile started to fall slightly, but then you remembered who was in front of you. Steve was an angel compared to the men of your era, but sometimes he had certain ways… certain words to dedicate to you, which truly disgusted you.

But you didn't lose heart, you just believed that after all these years maybe it was normal to still have certain thoughts, in short, maybe he was simply trying to protect you. So you approached him, delaying your exit a little longer, only to stand on your tiptoes and plant a chaste kiss on his lips. "It's a normal dress and it's so hot, plus I'll be careful and if anything happens, which I doubt, you'll be the first to be notified." you were way too confident in believing it would work.

Her frown remained, except his tone became more stoic. His large hands wrapped around your shoulders and brought you back to your seat, inches away from your face. "No, it's not normal, it's too low-cut and revealing. I don't like this dress, nor the idea that someone could watch you for all those hours while you don't even realize how easily your skirt can be hiked up." Now your smile had completely decayed and you tried to walk away, intending to make him boil off in the same anger as him, and then you would return when he calmed down. However, his hands remained firm on your shoulders and his eyes never left yours. You were starting to feel an uneasy reaction and your heart rate increase, and from that little smile of his you thought he had noticed.

“You have two options: stay here and that dress will be taken off you anyway, or you change and you can go out with the safety rules we have established.” You wanted to open your mouth and finally give him a piece of your mind, but like every time you fell back on the second choice with a boulder on your chest. Better than having yet another torn dress to throw away.

[kechiwrites]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. (If you feel like it, no pressure.) Spread the self-love ❤️

-dragonnarrative-writes

HEEHEE don't mind if I do!

thank u @dragonnarrative-writes for the ask 💖

in no particular order;

Tepid (Nanami)

Property Lines (dark!Steve Rogers)

Totally Platonic (Soap)

The Baby Blue Verse (Ghost, specifically mirror image. I love that one.)

Don't Make Me Say It (Atsumu)

Honourable mention to my IT: Chapter 2 days, when I used to write reddie 😔

[buckymorelikefuckme]

freakness on the loose

dark steve rogers x dark fem reader

words: 2.1k

warnings: **18+ ONLY** smut, oral (f receiving), public sex, unprotected sex (don't do that), spitting, implied/referenced violence. if i missed anything pls let me know!

a/n: this is my first dark fic but i feel like it's more dark-lite djdjdnd anyway i hope you all like it! any and all mistakes are mine. feedback is encouraged & appreciated ♡

The booming bass of the club thrummed through you, practically making the blood in your veins vibrate. You sway your hips sensually from your perch on the balcony of the luxury VIP room, watching the people below, waving your fingers flirtatiously at anyone who meets your gaze.

And plenty of people are looking. You’re wearing a skin-tight dress with thin straps, sheer and covered in Swarovski crystals, the only thing underneath it being your tiny black thong, leaving your tits on full display. The chunky, platform heels on your feet made your legs look extra long and toned. You look hot and you know it. It's exactly the type of outfit you wore when you wanted to cause trouble.

As much as you loved teasing people, letting them drink in the image of your body and ache for more, it never took long for you to get bored.

With a dull sigh, you turn around, leaning back against the railing of the balcony and shifting your attention to the men in the room. Steve sits languidly on the velvet sofa, one leg crossed over the other, a glass of whiskey held loosely in his hand. His expression mirrors your boredom. The man sitting opposite him doesn't seem to care as he drones on and on, stroking his own ego as he talks himself up.

You already knew why Steve wanted to meet with him. A low-ranking dealer who's become a little too self important, thinks he's hot shit and that he runs more than he's been given. Steve hates when his generosity is taken advantage of.

You slowly make your way over to the two men, stopping next to Steve and taking the whiskey from his hand, downing it one go.

The man stops speaking abruptly, cutting off his gloating about getting a personal meeting with the boss. You nearly laugh. It's hilarious that these guys never stop to think how it could be a bad thing to be called in to speak with Steve.

“Goddamn,” the man whose name you didn't bother learning mutters, eyeing your body hungrily. “A woman like you who can handle her alcohol? That's sexy.”

If it wasn't for the music coming from the speakers, the room would be far too quiet in the moment that follows. You turn sharp eyes on the man, who merely smirks.

Hm… This will be fun.

“Yeah? You think I'm sexy?” Your voice is a purr. You step into his space and bury your fingers through his hair, light and unassuming, until you fist the strands harshly and yank his head back. His gasp is thrilling. “You wanna fuck me?”

His eyes are wide, shocked, and he must see the way your own eyes are blazing, because the taunting leer has fallen off his stupid face.

“C’mon, I’m just kidding,” he tries, swallowing roughly as his gaze flits from you to Steve.

You pout. “So you don't think I’m sexy? You’re sending me mixed signals here, baby. Do you want me or not?”

He looks at Steve, apprehension making his shoulders hunch. Steve stares back, face unreadable, which seems to only add to his discomfort.

“Stevie,” you begin, plopping down in the man’s lap, biting back a manic grin at the way he freezes beneath you, hands hovering as far away from your body as possible. “He's hurting my feelings.”

“No, hey, wait—”

“Answer her question.”

The deep, commanding tone of Steve’s voice makes you press your thighs together, eyelids becoming heavier with desire. You adore the way Steve is looking at you right now, at the man whose lap you're perched on. Like he'd rip him to shreds in a blink and fuck you next to his desecrated remains. It's delicious.

“Look, it was just a joke—” the man tries again, but it's nowhere near the right thing to say.

“Ah, so she's a joke to you, then?” Steve wonders, tilting his head.

The man sputters. “N-No! Of course not, I just—” He stops, choosing his words carefully, though he's pretty much dug his grave already. “You're very attractive. The boss is a lucky man.”

Your lips pull up into a grin, tracing the shell of his ear with your thumb. “Do you wanna be a lucky man?”

Sensing he's headed for shark infested waters, the man backtracks. “I think it's time for me to go, actually.”

“Mm, no, that's not happening,” you say with a sickly sweet smile. You boop his nose. “We’re not done with you yet.”

Steve rises from the sofa, tall and imposing. You bite your lip in anticipation.

“Why don't you and your friend come sit here, sweetheart?” Steve suggests, nodding to the sofa behind him.

“Really, sir, I—”

“Don't make me repeat myself.”

The man glances warily at you and Steve. You stand, tugging him to follow and shoving him to sit in Steve’s vacated spot, returning to his lap. He keeps his hands to himself still, but you know that's gonna change soon.

Steve leans over, capturing your lips in a slow kiss, licking into your mouth as he cups your jaw. He pulls away and drops to his knees. You shift impatiently on the man’s lap, seeing his hands clench into fists on the cushion out of your peripheral. Steve nudges you back, making you rest your weight along the man’s torso.

“Open up for me, darlin’,” he instructs.

You spread your legs, draping them on either side of the man’s knees.

“Wait, what are you doing?” his strained voice asks.

“Shut up,” Steve replies.

The man’s mouth shuts with an audible click.

Steve pulls your thong to the side and runs the fingers of his free hand along your slick center. You moan softly. He leans in, putting his mouth on your pussy and sinking two fingers inside you.

“Fuck, Stevie, that's good,” you breathe, reaching up to release your tits from the top of your dress so you can pinch your nipples.

Steve continues to fingerfuck you and suck on your clit, bringing you close to your peak within minutes, knowing your body like it's his own. You usually like to cum multiple times, but you're not sure how long he’ll last before he’ll want to take care of the man under you.

He pulls his fingers out, spitting on your cunt before sliding three fingers back inside you, curling them expertly as your whines get louder and louder. Your hips roll, chasing your high. The movement makes the man grow hard beneath you and you laugh. Steve’s noticed, too, of course, and he doubles his efforts, eyes locked on yours as the heat coiling in your belly finally snaps. You cry out as your orgasm washes over you and Steve drags it out until you're twitching. He rises to his full height, sucking his fingers clean as you come down from your high.

“Keep her legs open,” Steve orders as he unbuttons his slacks, lowering the zipper and pulling out his hard cock.

Shakily, and without having to be told a second time, the man cradles your spread thighs. His grip is loose, though, and Steve sneers.

“You wanted to fuck her but that's how you're gonna touch her? That's fucking insulting. Do it right.” The man’s hold tightens and Steve grins, voice low and condescending as he says, “There you go. Now lie back.”

“W-What?” he stutters.

“You heard me. On your back, now.”

The man adjusts your positions, shifting until he can lie sideways on the sofa. Steve’s stare is getting wilder and wilder by the second. He joins the two of you, and knowing what's coming, you wiggle excitedly.

When he finally slides into your dripping cunt, it's with you lying on top of the man while he still holds your legs spread open. Only, now Steve has the man’s legs spread as well, fitting himself between them so that when he fucks into you the man below you feels it too. Steve’s thrusts jostle both your bodies, and giddy giggles bubble out of you mixed with pleasured cries of Steve’s name.

You turn your head, moaning and whining directly into the man’s ear, wanton and needy. You can see the way his face burns in shame and it only adds to the desire building in your core.

“Aren’t you fucking lucky?” you gasp as your pussy welcomes the stretch of Steve’s cock. “You get to witness how good Stevie fucks me.”

He remains silent, his fingers digging into your flesh hard enough that you wonder if they'll leave marks. For his sake, you hope not. He's not coming out of tonight unscathed as it is. You'd hate for him to make it worse.

Oh, who are you kidding? You’ll probably watch Steve and his goons teach him a lesson later and it'll be another highlight of your night, second only to this current moment.

“You know, I should chop your fucking hands off at the wrists for touching my girl,” Steve muses, grunting as you clench around him.

“You–You told me to!” the man replies, panicked.

Steve laughs meanly and the sound goes straight to your cunt. “If I told you to walk into oncoming traffic, would you do that, too?” His thrusts get harder, sharper, making you mewl, your hands reaching to pluck at your nipples again. “Little bitches like you never learn,” Steve hisses. “You think you're some big hotshot, just because I give you a job to do. It's fucking pathetic.” He leans down, bracing himself with his hands on either side of the bodies under him as he picks up the pace. “And then when I bring my girl around you stupid pricks, you forget your manners and disrespect her, without fail. You think you can fuck her better than I can? Huh? Answer me!”

“No, sir!”

You're mindless now, mouthing wetly at Steve’s neck, biting and sucking kisses into the skin there, just wanting to feel whatever you can of him. You writhe, whining, begging for more, for release, for everything.

“Who's fucking you so good, sweetheart? Who's wrecking your pretty pussy?” Steve prods.

“Stevie is,” you whimper. “Please, Stevie, make me cum, wanna cum, please.”

Steve lifts himself up, spitting on your clit, smirking at the way it makes you moan, then starts rubbing fast circles into the swollen flesh. You're loud enough now that you're sure the club goers downstairs can hear you. The thought fans the flames in your core.

All too soon, you feel your high cresting. You babble nonsense, hands never staying in one spot, tugging your own hair, your nipples, digging your nails into Steve’s back through his crisp, white button down shirt. When your orgasm hits, you grin like a mad woman.

“I'm coming, I'm coming,” you chant, laughing, moaning.

You clench around Steve’s cock, over and over, the pleasure never ending. Steve groans above you, fucking into you roughly as he chases his own high.

“In me, Stevie, please, cum in me,” you beg, “mark me from the inside.”

“Fuck,” Steve gasps, thrusting one, two, three more times before stilling, moaning as he spills inside your cunt.

You hum, entirely pleased, pulling Steve down into a dirty kiss. It takes a few minutes for the rigid body beneath you to register in your cum-drunk brain. You pull away, grinning at Steve as he sits up, sliding out of you. He gathers the mixture of your slick and his cum, bringing it to your lips. With a coy look, you suck on his fingers, swallowing the taste of the two of you with a moan.

“Now,” Steve starts, putting his cock back in his slacks, “my girl’s gonna get up and fix her clothes, and then you and I are gonna head out back to have another chat.”

Resigned to his fate, the man simply nods.

Steve helps you stand and put your thong back in place, pressing kisses to the tops of your tits before you pull your dress back up. You can't resist kissing him one more time, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, loving the feel of his large hands on the small of your back. He smacks your ass and breaks the kiss.

“Can't I watch, Stevie?” you ask, jutting your bottom lip out.

“You might get your pretty dress dirty, darlin’.”

You pout. “Please?”

“Okay, okay, I suppose it's fair,” Steve sighs.

You clap your hands happily, giggling. You turn to the man sitting on the sofa who looks two seconds away from bursting into tears and send him a sunny smile.

“It's my turn to watch!”

Steve huffs a laugh, signaling to his men who've been lurking in the shadows to come collect the sorry piece of shit beside you. He doesn't put up too much of a fight, which is a little disappointing, but you're sure he’ll be begging for mercy soon enough.

[darkserenity24]

F&C Ch 6 will be posted either tonight or tomorrow. Brewing Amnesia will be next on the update list, then part 2 of Birthday Bash and so on. Very excited 😌

[inevitablysomber-dark]

Under The Radar 4

Dark! Steve Roger x Kiwi! Reader

Dividers by @Strangergraphics

Warnings:

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

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

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

The third week of the trip had started to blend into the rest, but the jet skiing adventure gave me a brief escape. The sun was high, the ocean stretched out like a never-ending canvas, and everyone else was way ahead, weaving through the waves like they were born on the water. I hung back, as usual, taking my time and keeping my speed steady.

But just as I started to feel a little more confident, the engine sputtered. My heart dropped as my jet ski slowed to a crawl, then died altogether, leaving me stranded in the middle of the ocean.

"Seriously?" I muttered, pressing a few buttons, trying to restart the engine. Nothing. Great.

I glanced around, hoping someone from the group would notice, but they were all too far ahead. I felt a wave of frustration rising through me. That’s when I spotted a familiar figure cutting through the water in my direction. Lloyd.

He pulled up next to me, his ever-present smirk in place. “Run out of juice already?” he teased, clearly amused by my predicament.

I rolled my eyes with a smile “Obviously.”

Lloyd chuckled and glanced around, his eyes scanning the empty stretch of water. “Well, lucky for you, I’m a gentleman,” he said, patting the back of his jet ski. “Hop on. I’ll give you a ride.”

 “Alright, thanks,” I quipped

Since that first night we met, I’d been texting Lloyd more than I thought I would. At first, I was convinced he was just like the rest of them, another one of those rich kids I claimed to be wary of, another piece of the puzzle that didn’t quite fit with my life. But something about Lloyd was different. Maybe it was the way he joked with that dark humor of his, or the fact that he never seemed to take anything too seriously. Whatever it was, I found myself enjoying our late-night conversations more than I expected to.

When I wasn’t too drunk from another round of drinks with the group, I’d call him. It wasn’t anything deep, just simple talks about random things, how he hated how out of place he felt here, how I felt like I was stuck in a life that didn’t quite belong to me. In a weird way, we got each other, even though we came from completely different worlds. There was something about him that made me feel grounded, like I wasn’t completely adrift.

The more we talked, the more I started to look forward to his texts. It was like a small escape from the chaos around me.

As soon as I settled in, his next question caught me off guard. “So… where’s Steve?” His voice was casual, but the question made me stiffen.

Before I could respond, Steve’s jet ski came roaring up to us, cutting through the water with a spray of mist. The second he spotted me on the back of Lloyd’s jet ski, his entire demeanor shifted. The easygoing smile he usually wore vanished, replaced by something tighter. Possessive.

"Lloyd! What are the chances?" Steve called out, his tone too friendly, his voice louder than necessary as he pulled up beside us. His eyes flicked between me and Lloyd, his jaw clenching as if he was trying to grit his teeth through a smile.

"Yeah, what are the chances?" Lloyd echoed, though the smirk on his face remained firmly in place.

Steve’s gaze lingered on where I was holding onto Lloyd's waist, his hand twitching on the handlebar of his jet ski. The tension in the air was unmistakable, and for a second, it felt like I was intruding on some unspoken battle between the two of them.

"Kiwi," Steve said, his tone softening as he turned to me. "Your jet ski ran out of fuel?"

I nodded, feeling a little awkward now that I was the center of attention. “Yeah, it just... died. Lloyd was helping me out.”

Steve’s smile didn’t reach his eyes as he responded. “Appreciate that, Lloyd.” He paused, his gaze hardening as it flicked back to Lloyd. “But I’ve got it from here.”

Without waiting for a reply, Steve reached over, his hand brushing my arm as if to help me off Lloyd’s jet ski. I stopped him.

"Hey, Steve, don’t worry about me," I said, forcing a smile, my heart beating a little faster than I’d like. "I think I’m gonna hang out with Lloyd a little bit."

Steve’s brow arched, and I saw his jaw clench ever so slightly. "You sure?"

I nodded, trying to play it off casually. "Yup. I’ll meet you guys back at the villa."

Steve’s eyes lingered on me for a beat too long, but before he could say anything, Lloyd piped up from behind me. "Cowabunga!" he shouted, revving the jet ski’s engine and speeding off, away from Steve.

The sudden burst of speed made me grip Lloyd’s waist tighter, laughing as we raced across the water. The wind whipped through my hair, the salty spray of the ocean splashing against my face. It was exhilarating. Everything with Lloyd felt easy, carefree, like I could just let go of all the tension and overthinking that usually bogged me down.

We zigzagged through the waves, occasionally catching small jumps that made me laugh even louder. Lloyd would glance back at me with that goofy, boyish grin of his, and I couldn’t help but smile every time.

At one point, he slowed the jet ski down, letting us coast along a more peaceful section of the coastline. The sun was starting to set, casting a golden glow over the water, turning everything soft and warm. We pulled up near a secluded beach, far enough from the main tourist areas that it felt like we were in our own little world.

Lloyd turned around, still grinning. "Not bad for a day out, huh?"

I chuckled, adjusting my grip on his waist. "Yeah, not bad at all. Way better than being stuck at the villa."

We sat there, just drifting along, talking about nothing and everything.

"You know, Kiwi," he said after a while, leaning back slightly so I could hear him over the gentle sound of the water, "I’m glad we’re doing this. I’ve been stuck in my own head since I got here, and you’re kinda making this whole thing... fun."

I smiled, feeling a warmth in my chest that had nothing to do with the sun. "Same here, Lloyd."

The rest of our little jet ski date felt like a blur of laughter, jokes, and moments where we just sat in comfortable silence, watching the ocean stretch out in front of us. For once, I wasn’t worried about Steve or what he thought. I wasn’t thinking about any of the baggage that usually weighed me down.

It was just me and Lloyd, two people who found a little bit of peace in each other’s company.

When I finally made it back to the villa, the air inside felt thick with tension the second I stepped through the door. Steve was lounging on the couch, but there was nothing relaxed about his posture,his jaw was tight, arms crossed, and his eyes locked on me the moment I entered. Natasha was pacing near the kitchen island, her lips pressed together in a thin line. The usual carefree atmosphere of the villa had been replaced by something... colder.

"Where the hell have you been?" Natasha snapped before I could even say anything, her voice a little too sharp.

I blinked, taken aback by the sudden hostility. "I was with Lloyd," I replied, trying to keep my tone even, though I could feel Steve’s gaze drilling into the side of my head. "We went jet skiing. I told Steve."

Natasha’s eyes narrowed, and she threw a quick glance in Steve’s direction before focusing back on me. "Lloyd? You barely know him, Kiwi! He’s a stranger. We don’t know anything about him, and you’re just running off with him like it’s nothing?"

I felt my pulse quicken, a defensive heat rising up my chest. "He’s not just some random guy. We’ve been talking since we met at the villa. He’s... he’s fine."

"Fine?" Natasha stepped closer, shaking her head. "Kiwi, you don’t know what people are capable of. You can’t just trust someone because they seem nice or make you laugh a few times." Her voice softened a little, but the frustration was still there. "You have no idea what his intentions are."

I clenched my fists, trying to keep my cool. "I’m not some naïve little girl, Natasha. I can take care of myself. I know when someone’s bad news, and Lloyd isn’t it." My voice wavered slightly as I spoke, but I held her gaze, unwilling to back down.

Natasha hesitated, glancing again at Steve. He hadn’t said a word, but his silence spoke volumes. He was pissed, that much was clear. The quiet anger radiating off him made me feel uneasy, like I had just walked into a trap I wasn’t even aware of. Natasha, noticing Steve’s lack of response, seemed unsure of how to proceed.

Steve finally stood up, and the movement sent a ripple of tension through the room. His eyes flicked to Natasha, silently dismissing her. She stepped back, arms folded, still watching me with that mix of concern and frustration.

Steve walked toward me, slow and deliberate, his gaze never leaving mine. When he finally stopped in front of me, his expression was hard to read. For a moment, I wasn’t sure if he was going to explode or just brush the whole thing off.

"You need to be careful, Kiwi," he said, his voice low, controlled. "I don’t want you getting hurt. People aren’t always what they seem."

It felt like a warning, like something unsaid was lingering beneath his words. I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my chest. "I know," I replied, my voice barely a whisper.

Steve studied me for a moment longer, his eyes scanning my face like he was looking for something, an answer, maybe, or some kind of reassurance. Then, without another word, he turned disappearing into his room.

The door clicked shut, and the silence in the villa felt suffocating. Natasha let out a long breath, rubbing her temples. "Look, just... be smart, okay?" she muttered, her earlier fire gone, replaced with a kind of resignation.

I didn’t say anything. I just nodded and headed to my own room, my mind swirling with thoughts I couldn’t quite sort out. Steve’s warning echoed in my head, but more than that, the way he looked at me, like I was fragile, like I needed protection, made my skin crawl.

It wasn’t until I was alone in my room, sitting on the edge of my bed, that I realized something felt off. The way Steve and Natasha had reacted to Lloyd.

As I lay down, pulling the covers over myself, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the carefree freedom I’d felt with Lloyd earlier that day was slipping through my fingers.

By the end of the third week, Tony got wind of a party happening at one of the nearby villas, and just like that, we were off.

The villa was buzzing with energy that night, music thumped through the walls, laughter spilled out from every corner, and the air was thick with the scent of tropical drinks and perfume. It was another party, another scene I never quite felt I belonged in, but I went along with it, trying to blend in with the group.

Steve, of course, had stuck to my side all night, possessively hovering like a shadow, making sure I didn’t stray too far. It was exhausting. I excused myself to grab another drink, slipping out from under his watchful eye and wandering into the crowd.

That’s when I saw him, Lloyd, standing near the back patio, his easy smile lighting up his face as he spoke to a group of strangers. He spotted me, and that smile only widened, sending a warmth through me that I hadn’t realized I needed.

"Well, if it isn’t my favorite jet ski partner," he teased as I approached, his voice dripping with the playful sarcasm I’d grown to enjoy.

I chuckled, the tension I’d been carrying with me all night melting away in his presence. “You better watch it,” I replied. “I might start to think you actually like me.”

Lloyd’s dark eyes sparkled with amusement, his crooked grin making my stomach flutter. “Maybe I do,” he said, his tone low but light. His teasing was always edged with something deeper, something that made my heart race in ways I hadn’t felt in a long time.

We wandered off to the quieter section of the party, near the beach where the sound of the waves mixed with the distant hum of the party.

“So, how’d you end up with Steve and the wealth squad?” Lloyd asked, half-smiling, his tone playful but curious. “I’ve been wondering that since we met,”

“University,” I answered, not really thinking about it. When he paused, waiting for more, I sighed and gave in to the full story. “I shared a class with Sharon. We sat next to each other, and she needed help with her assignments. So, I helped. Help eventually turned into me actually doing her assignments, and eventually Jane and Pepper’s.”

Lloyd raised an eyebrow, but didn’t interrupt.

“Natasha never needed help,” I added, almost like it mattered somehow. “Anyway, Sharon thought she could trade friendship for completed homework. And me, being as foolish as I was, allowed it.

Lloyd tilted his head, studying me for a moment. I could feel his gaze, but I kept talking, needing to get it all out.

“During my last year at University, I was overwhelmed, exams, projects, papers. You name it. And for some reason, Sharon couldn’t understand that I needed to prioritize myself. She felt betrayed, like I was supposed to keep sacrificing my sanity for her. So, she dropped me, just like that.”

Lloyd frowned, his brow furrowing as if trying to piece it all together. “That sucks, but… why are you here with them now?”

I shrugged, feeling the familiar weight of the answer pressing on me. “Sharon called me out of the blue, invited me on this trip. I declined at first, but things… weren’t going so great at home. I lost my job, had to move back in with my parents, and they were driving me insane. So, I caved. Figured one month in the Maldives was better than staying at home.”

Lloyd nodded slowly, leaning back against the railing, “Seems like you’ve been through it.”

“Yeah,” I sighed, glancing back at the crowd inside. “I guess you could say that.”

I didn’t know what I was expecting when I told Lloyd everything. Maybe I just needed someone to hear it without judgment. Without the baggage of knowing all the players involved. And somehow, Lloyd, with his laid-back charm and sharp sense of humor, made it easier to say out loud.

The silence between us lingered for a moment, comfortable yet loaded, before he spoke again. “Well, for what it’s worth, you don’t seem like the kind of person who needs to be hanging out with people like them.”

I smiled, but it didn’t reach my eyes. “Yeah, well, sometimes you just… end up where you are, I guess.”

At one point, he leaned in, brushing a lock of hair away from my face, his fingers grazing my skin. The touch sent a shiver down my spine, and for the first time in a while, I felt my breath catch in my throat.

Before we could go further, I felt it, the shift in the air, like a dark cloud had rolled in. I didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

Steve.

His presence was suffocating, a heavy weight that pressed down on me the moment he appeared. “Lloyd, what a coincidence,” Steve greeted him with that smile that didn’t reach his eyes. There was something colder, more calculated in his tone. He stepped closer, his gaze locked on me. “Mind if I borrow Kiwi for a second?”

"Does she want to be borrowed?" Lloyd’s voice was calm, yet irritated but the tension between them was almost palpable. I could feel his eyes on me, silently asking for confirmation.

The truth? I didn’t. I didn’t want to go anywhere with Steve. But deep down, I knew that Steve had no problem escalating a situation if it didn’t go his way. And I didn’t want to drag Lloyd into that mess. So, I laid my hand on Lloyd’s arm, a silent apology in my eyes as I told him, “I’ll be back.” I threw Steve a dirty look, hoping he'd understand this wasn't going to go the way he wanted.

Before I could move, Steve’s hand was already around my wrist, his grip firm, almost possessive. He pulled me aside, his expression unreadable, but the tightness in his jaw betrayed the calm exterior he was trying to maintain.

I yanked my arm back, glaring at him. Steve didn’t flinch, his grip tightening just enough to remind me who held the power.

“What are you doing with him?” Steve’s voice was low, controlled, but there was an edge that made my skin prickle. His grip on my wrist didn’t loosen.

I yanked my hand back, glaring at him. “I’m just talking to him, Steve. What’s your problem?”

“He’s not good for you, Kiwi-” His jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing slightly. As if he was holding back.

I stared at him, anger rising in my chest. “You don’t get to decide who’s good for me, Steve. This isn’t your call.”

Steve’s smile returned, but it was colder now, the kind that sent chills down my spine. “Okay,” he said lightly, stepping back. His voice was casual, too casual. “I won’t get in your way.” He gave me a short nod before turning and walking back toward the villa.

I watched him go, relief washing over me, thinking that the confrontation was over. But deep down, something felt off. Steve had let it go too easily.

I returned to Lloyd, “Seems, like he needs a good pegging.” He said his humor cutting through the tension like a breath of fresh air, and I managed to shake off the strange encounter with Steve. For the rest of the night, I focused on Lloyd, laughing and joking as we wandered along the beach. It felt good…natural. For once, I didn’t feel like I was being suffocated by Steve’s presence.

But a few days later, everything changed.

Lloyd stopped texting. No calls, no messages. I tried reaching out, but my calls went straight to voicemail. It was like he’d vanished.

Worried, I went back to his villa, hoping to get some explanation. But when I got there, it was empty. A neighbor mentioned he’d left abruptly, something about family issues overseas, but it didn’t sit right with me. I wanted to believe it was just bad timing, but the nagging feeling in my gut told me otherwise.

Steve didn’t miss a beat. He swooped back into my life, acting as though nothing had happened, as though Lloyd’s sudden disappearance was just a coincidence. He was all concerned and caring, making sure I was "okay." His concern seemed genuine, but deep down, I knew the truth.

That night, I drowned my guilt in bottles, one after another, trying to numb the sick feeling churning in my stomach. I couldn’t stop thinking about Lloyd. What happened to him? Questions swirled in my mind, but the alcohol silenced them for a while, turning everything into a hazy blur.

Eventually, the weight of the night pulled me under, and I passed out, letting the booze take over completely.

When I woke up, my head was pounding, the light creeping through the curtains like needles stabbing at my skull. I groaned, rolling over in bed, but the movement made me realize something was off. My body was stiff, every muscle sore like I’d been through a marathon I didn’t remember running, and my skin felt so sticky.

I tried to stretch, but even that felt like a challenge, my limbs heavy and resistant. My mind was still foggy, disoriented from the drinks and... something else.

Sitting up slowly, I pressed my hands to my temples, trying to will the pounding headache away. The room was spinning slightly, the events of last night scattered like broken puzzle pieces in my brain.

I was in my own bed, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.

I flopped back down on my bed, pulling the blanket up to my chin, trying to shake off the throbbing headache pounding through my skull. Staying in seemed like the best option today. I just hoped Steve wouldn’t give me a hard time about it, especially with how overbearing he’d been lately.

A knock came at the door, and before I could respond, Steve walked in holding a bowl of what looked like soup. I sat up slightly, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Peace offering,” he said with a small smile, placing the bowl on the nightstand for a moment. “I wanted to apologize... for, you know, how I’ve been acting on this trip.”

I blinked at him, unsure where this was going. My headache was making it hard to focus, but his tone seemed genuine.

Steve sighed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I just... I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you, Kiwi. You’re a good friend, and I guess I’ve gotten a little... overprotective. It wasn’t my intention to make you uncomfortable.”

He was full of so much shit. I wasn’t sure what to say, and in the haze of my headache, I couldn’t really be mad at him. I just needed to make it through this trip, since he refused to let me go back home, so I just played nice.

I gave him a tired smile, the best I could manage with my pounding head. “Thanks, Steve. I appreciate that.”

“Let me feed you,” he said suddenly, picking up the bowl of soup again.

“What?” I raised an eyebrow. “You don’t have to, just put it on the nightstand. I’ll drink it when I’m ready.”

Steve shook his head, already pulling up a desk chair beside me. “Nah, it’s best when it’s still warm. You need to get it in you now.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but honestly, I didn’t have the energy to argue. My head felt like it was splitting in two. I just sighed and let him lift the spoon to my lips. The soup was surprisingly good, and with each sip, I felt the warmth spread through my chest, easing the discomfort.

After a few spoonful’s, I glanced up at him. “Why don’t you take care of your other friends like this when they’re hungover?”

He chuckled. “Because hangovers aren’t a common thing for you, Kiwi. Figured you’re not used to this.”

I nodded. He wasn’t wrong. I rarely drank, and when I did, it was never enough to leave me like this. Reluctantly, I let him keep feeding me until the bowl was empty. My exhaustion was creeping in fast, making it hard to keep my eyes open.

“Get some rest,” Steve said softly, tucking the blankets around me and leaning down to kiss my forehead. “Things are about to get busy soon.”

I drowsily nodded, already half-asleep, as I felt the weight of the day pull me under. I drifted off, wondering what he meant by that, but too tired to care for now.

Our final week in the Maldives felt like a blur. I was constantly drifting in and out of consciousness, my body heavy, my words thick in my throat whenever I tried to speak. Everything felt... off. I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was wrong, but Bruce chalked it up to lethargy.

“You’re just not used to prolonged rest, Kiwi,” he explained one morning when I asked why I felt so sluggish. “This vacation has you in a constant state of rest. Once you get home and start working again, everything will balance out.”

I nodded weakly, hoping he was right. But something deep down told me this wasn’t just about too much rest. I felt trapped in my own body, like I was dragging myself through every day, unable to fully engage with anything or anyone.

Steve, ever the attentive one, waited on me hand and foot, giving me these green energy smoothies every morning. "It’ll help pick you up," he’d say with that confident smile of his. But after days of drinking them, I didn’t feel any better. In fact, I felt worse. I told him as much one day, mentioning what Bruce had said about lethargy and how this constant dragging feeling couldn’t be good for me.

“Don’t worry about it,” Steve replied smoothly, brushing off my concerns as he squeezed my hand. He kept that hand-holding thing going all week, dragging me around like I was some ragdoll. And I let him. I didn’t have the energy to resist. The thought of doing anything on my own felt impossible. I was just waiting for the vacation to be over, to escape the fog that had settled over me.

At night, I slept like a rock. But when morning came, my body still felt heavy, weighed down like someone had filled me with stones. The soreness lingered, making even the simplest movement feel like a chore.

Before I knew it, the vacation was over, and I was sitting next to Steve on his private jet, heading back home. I stared out of the window, my eyes glazed over, the hum of the plane’s engine doing nothing to soothe the anxiety bubbling inside me. I wasn’t sure how I was going to make it home. I wasn’t even sure I’d be able to stand once we landed, let alone call an Uber or deal with my parents.

The plane landed, but I didn’t move. I couldn’t. My body felt so heavy, and everything around me seemed to swim in and out of focus. I felt myself being shifted, my body moving without me fully realizing it. Someone was lifting me, but it was all so hazy, like I was watching it from somewhere far away.

“It’s okay, you’re fine,” a voice whispered near my ear. Steve’s voice.

I wanted to say something, to ask what was happening, but my mouth wouldn’t cooperate. Everything was slipping away from me, and I could only hope that whatever was happening... I’d wake up from it soon.

When the fog finally lifted, I found myself in a bed that wasn’t mine, in a room I didn’t recognize. The fancy digital clock on the nightstand glowed 10:53 a.m., and before I could fully comprehend what was happening, a pair of arms wrapped around me, pulling me into a warm body. My heart raced as I turned to see who it was, and there was Steve, eyes closed, snoring softly, his face inches from mine.

I blinked, trying to shake off the remaining haze. “Steve?” I called out, nudging him slightly. “Steve, wake up.”

He stirred, stretching with a loud yawn before cracking open one eye. "Morning," he mumbled, voice thick with sleep.

“Where... where am I? What’s going on?” I asked, my voice still groggy but clearer than it had been in days.

Steve stretched again, his arm lazily draping across me. “You knocked out on the plane,” he explained. “So, I brought you to my house. I didn’t know where you lived.”

I sat up a little, still disoriented. “Why didn’t you just look at my ID?”

There was a pause, then a look of realization flashed across his face. “You know, I didn’t think of that.

I blinked at him, feeling a strange mixture of exhaustion and clarity wash over me. Something didn’t feel right, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I glanced down, suddenly noticing that I was wearing one of the nighties I’d packed for the vacation, with no underwear, sticky skin and sore muscle. My eyes darted to Steve, and that’s when I realized he was only in his boxers.

“Steve...” I started slowly, “who changed my clothes?”

He gave me an incredulous look, raising an eyebrow as if the question was ridiculous. “You did,” he said matter-of-factly.

I froze. I didn’t remember that. Not even a little. But what reason did I have to doubt him? My mind still felt like it was piecing itself back together after the past week.

I swallowed hard, nodding slightly, though the knot in my stomach grew tighter. “Okay... then why are you in your boxers?”

Steve smirked, giving a nonchalant shrug. “I usually sleep naked when I’m in my own bed. But I put on the boxers, you know, as a courtesy.”

I nodded again, more out of reflex than understanding. “Right...” I muttered, pushing the covers off me and swinging my legs over the side of the bed. “Where’s your bathroom?”

Steve pointed lazily to a door in the corner of the room, where the window met the wall. I wasted no time getting up and heading toward it, my head buzzing with too many thoughts to process.

As soon as the bathroom door closed behind me, I leaned against the sink and stared at my reflection in the mirror. I felt a panic rising in my chest. I didn’t remember changing. I didn’t remember much of anything after that last week. And now I was in Steve’s house, in Steve’s bed... with Steve.

I pressed my palms against the sink, staring at my reflection in the mirror. My hair was a mess, and my eyes were still heavy with exhaustion.

I blinked a few times, trying to process everything. How did I end up here? And in my nighty, no less? It didn’t add up. The last clear memory I had was from the plane. Everything after that was a foggy blur.

"Okay, Kiwi, calm down," I whispered to myself. "You can figure this out."

I shook my head, trying to focus. I needed to get out of here. I needed to clear my head and figure out what was really going on. But as I stared at my reflection, my gut twisted with uncertainty.

I couldn’t just ignore the way Steve had been acting over at the Maldives, how close he had gotten, how possessive he seemed. And now this? Him brushing off that he didn’t know where I lived? When I was sure it would take nothing to figure out.

I splashed cold water on my face, hoping it would wake me up from this strange feeling  that seemed to linger. I had to get a grip on the situation.

When I walked back out, Steve was still lying in his bed, stretched out, looking way too comfortable. "You, okay?" he asked, his voice lazy, like none of this was out of the ordinary.

I forced a smile. "Yeah, just needed a minute."

"Good," he replied, sitting up and stretching. "We’ve got breakfast downstairs if you’re hungry."

I nodded, not trusting myself to say anything more.

Steve moved from the bed, stretching his arms with a casualness that made my skin crawl. He grabbed a robe from a nearby chair and slid it on before turning to me, his eyes lingering on me just a second too long. It wasn’t subtle, he looked me up and down before pulling out another robe and handing it to me.

“Here, put this on,” he said, his tone soft but something about it made me feel like I didn’t really have a choice.

I slipped it on, trying not to think too much about his gaze. The fabric was smooth, probably the most expensive thing I’d ever worn. But it didn’t feel comforting; it felt like a reminder of just how far out of my element I was.

Before I could say anything, Steve was by my side, grabbing my hand in a way that was far too intimate. His grip was firm, not forceful, but it left me no room to pull away. He led me out of the room, his massive mansion unfolding before me as we moved through the wide corridors.

The grand staircase was as intimidating as it was beautiful, spiraling down into what felt like the heart of the house. My mind was still spinning from everything, how I’d ended up here, the fog that had clouded my memory for what felt like weeks, and now, Steve’s hand holding mine felt like it was tethering me to this strange reality.

We descended into the dining room, which was, of course, massive. The table was already set, food arranged like we were about to attend a banquet. I could smell eggs, bacon, fresh fruit, and some other dishes I didn’t even recognize. It all looked like something straight out of a magazine.

Steve pulled out a chair for me, still holding that unreadable expression on his face. I sat down slowly, trying to process everything. He slid into the chair right next to me, far closer than necessary, and for a second, I felt the weight of his presence more than the meal in front of me.

“Go ahead,” Steve said, gesturing to the food. “You need to eat after the week you’ve had.”

I swallowed hard, my appetite completely gone despite the feast in front of me. But I picked up a fork anyway, feeling his eyes on me the whole time. I had no idea how I was going to make it through this breakfast, or what Steve expected from me next.

Steve picked up a small tart and brought it toward me. I reached out to grab it, but just as my fingers brushed it, he pulled it away, holding it in front of my mouth instead, his eyes expectant. The gesture was so casual, like this was normal, so I awkwardly leaned forward and allowed him to feed me. The tart was sweet, but I barely tasted it, my discomfort overpowering everything else.

He set the other piece down and resumed eating his own meal as if nothing strange had just happened. I, on the other hand, felt my shoulders tense up as I silently chewed, trying to make sense of what this morning was becoming.

After a few moments of silence, Steve spoke again, this time in a tone that made me wary. "So, I have news."

I glanced at him, unsure what to expect. "Okay..." I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

"I spoke to my father," Steve began, "and unfortunately, he's not interested in hiring for any entry-level positions in his finance department right now."

The news hit me like a brick. My stomach dropped, I had forgotten that I asked him to do that, and though I knew it was good that I didn’t have to stick around Steve, I really could have used that job. My shoulders slumped as that familiar wave of defeat washed over me.

But before I could sink any deeper into that feeling, Steve’s hand was on my cheek, gently caressing my skin. “Hey, don’t look so down. I’m not done yet,” he said, his voice soft but commanding. “I managed to get you an opportunity elsewhere. Proper salary, full benefits.”

I perked up, my heart lifting at the words. “Really?” I asked, excitement creeping in. I hadn’t expected a follow-up.

Steve smiled, the kind of smile that felt both comforting and unsettling at the same time. “Yeah, really. You know my father’s been mentoring me to take over his company, right? Well, next quarter, I’ll have a proper position. And with that position, I’m going to need a few resources.” He paused, his smile widening. “Congratulations, you’re going to be my new PA.”

I blinked, the words not quite sinking in at first. “Personal assistant?” I repeated, taken aback. It wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I thought of a job with a ‘proper salary.’ But then again, I was in no position to be picky.

“Personal assistant,” he confirmed, nodding.

I sat there, unsure of how to feel. The idea of working directly under Steve made me uneasy, especially after everything that had happened on this trip. But at the same time... I couldn’t afford to turn this down. Not now. Not with my parents breathing down my neck, and no other job prospects on the horizon. Maybe, just maybe, this could lead to something more. Soon, enough I’ll find myself in a position where I’ll no longer need Steve and I could just leave.

“So,” Steve said, interrupting my thoughts, “what do you think?”

I hesitated, taking a deep breath before nodding. “Okay,” I finally said, unsure of whether I was convincing him or myself.

Steve clapped his hands together, his excitement palpable. “Awesome. We’ll get you set up before the start of the new quarter, then.”

He picked up the rest of the tart he’d fed me earlier and brought it to my lips again. I leaned forward to take a bite, but a small drop of fruit glaze fell onto my chin. Before I could react, Steve wiped it away with his thumb and, without breaking eye contact, licked it off.

“Welcome to Rogers and Co.”

[lalau]

Guys I'm desperate...please I need your help. 🙏😭

Been looking like crazy for 2 specific fics, one is a Steve Rogers Dark Fic, the other is kind of various continuations interwined involving Mob Andy Barber, Ari Levinson & Ransom Drysdale...

1-Dark Steve Rogers (think Mob) kidnaps a hired bartender by thinking she helped somehow on an attack on his gang, he keeps her in a Kind of basement...it involves a glass with a symbol she had in her locker that proved she was involved..by the time they discover the glass was handed to her by a co worker it was too late..she and Steve had a Child and he loved her ...never letting her go

2-It started as one shots for each, i think the whole series now is called Necessary Arrangements or Unecessary dont remember

Mob Andy Barber claims power after the reader's dad died also mob and Andy gets in her house to kill everyone but makes a deal with her...they end up falling in love

Ari Levinson (mob maybe) hires through an agency an escort (reader) he infuriates her but with time she falls for his charm

Ransom Drysdale (mob) is the owner of some kind of building where reader has her Coffee Shop and apartment..he expects money each month like a protection fee...reader denies and they make an agreement if you know what i mean..stuborn sideways they start to fall for one another but dont want to show it

These 3 separate fics get interwined at some point by Andy, Ari & Ransom, making business together..

I swear I had them reebloged and/or liked...and they've dissapeared. HELP a bitch here pls! 🥲

Please if anybody knows if maybe got deleted or they are in AO3 or something...im going crazy here 💔

Lot's of love ❣♥️❣

Thank you anyone!