#mcudarklibrary

[late-to-the-party-81]

Steve, you rat bastard. I think I dislike you more than Brock…

Beg For Forgiveness

Beg - Part 1

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 3,583

Warnings: Dubcon, Smut, Fingering, Light Bondage, Sex Toy, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Orgasm denial, Cussing, Brief mention of anal but there isn’t any,

Summary: (Sequel to Beg) Steve comes to rescue the reader and finds out that Brock has touched what is his. A month has passed and the reader is very distant with him. When Steve gets an email with the video of Brock and the reader it enrages him. Steve is prepared to put you back in your place and remind  you that you belong to him.

A/N: Thank you to @music-culture-mythology​ for beta reading it as well and helping me bounce ideas around for this.

Divider by @whimsicalrogers​

All photos are from Pinterest. Any female pictures do not represent what my reader looks like. I use them to show what she is wearing or set a mood.

Reblogs & Comments on Tumblr are welcomed and encouraged. 😊💜

I do NOT give my consent to have my work translated or reposted on any social media platform, apps or third party sites. If you see my work anywhere else besides my personal Tumblr & AO3 accounts then it has been stolen. I will NEVER give written or verbal permission to repost or translate any of my fanfics as they’re MY intellectual property. 🚫🚫

Keep reading

[xsapphirescrollsx]

Hallows' Eve

Masterlist

Original Posting: 02 Oct 2020

MCU/DC Cross-over AU

Pairing: dark!Bucky Barnes, dark!Steve Rogers, dark!Clark Kent x Black Female Reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, creampie, spanking, dirty talk, daddy kink, assault, non-consensual sex. Proceed with caution!

@mcudarklibrary​ entry for Dark MCU Kinktober

A/N: Ahh shoutout to my bff @titty-teetee​ for indulging me with this idea lol. I love ya >:D

October 30th, middle of somewhere, Texas.

Well, there was a house-- rickety as it was, the home stood in a clump of mesquite trees, accented with tufts of Johnsongrass, springing up through the cracks of the stone walkway and leaning against the stairs to the front porch. It had never looked darker than this night had. But even so, the jagged wood roof  rose high to a second story, long windows looked like eyes with the small front door for a mouth. A steady breeze moved through the trees, shaking and whishing the long thin branches, slicing through the air. The whispering of nature speaks to you, like God to man, invoking what has been and what was to come. An unexpected thin place perhaps, the house, having not been filled for quite some time looked like it could have been haunted. Maybe a part of you wished it was. Like the walls and foundation had the ability to make up its own people within, or remembered who once lived there. 

Bucky’s fingers nudged your lower back as you walked alongside him. The duffle bags zipper clinked against the fabric and you were suddenly aware of how quiet it was out here. The crisp autumn air, slowly contorted to that spikey chill of early winter lingered on your skin. So you walked closer to him for some quick warmth. 

“They should be--” said Bucky, lights glowed up from the dirt road. The paleness glowed over both you and Bucky, the house, the dormant land. “There they are.” he said pausing for a moment and then continued once again.

“You had to pick the spookiest spot huh?” you said under your breath. 

He shrugged as he stomped up the stairs. “I was here yesterday, I got it ready. It’s a perfect spot for a quick get away.”

“But did you have to invite company? I was looking forward to it just being you and me.”

Bucky rummaged for the keys in his pocket as a couple of car doors slammed behind you. 

“‘Come on babe, Steve doesn’t have anywhere to go really.”

“I’ll start the fire!” shouted Steve. 

You didn’t turn around, your eyes stayed on the shadows of Bucky’s face where his eyes should have been. 

“Okay, I get that. But what about the other guy? What did you say his name was? How do you know him?”

Bucky jabbed the key with the lock, he chuckled a bit before answering. “Clark Kent, his name is Clark.”

“So you’re picking up strays now?” 

“Get to know him, you’ll like him. He's a great guy, hardly a stray...”

You followed Bucky into the house slowly, he flicked on the switch flooding the living room with light. Okay, you thought, doesn’t look so bad. At least the furnishing appeared to be from within the last ten years, the walls looked newish, with sharp borders, and reasonably decorated. 

“Besides, I picked you up, remember?”

You dropped your bag flat on the ground. “Hey, now. Are you trying not to get lucky while we stay here?”

Bucky continued into the house with the grocery bags. “I’ll get lucky regardless.” he cut his eyes over his shoulder back toward you. It sent another chill, this time up your inner thighs. He wasn’t lying.

“Oh god, not that stupid-”

Bucky ducked in close, the flimsy plastic mask buckled under the pressure of nuzzling your neck. You gazed into the bathroom mirror at Bucky who’s rubber Michael Myers mask was staring lifelessly back.

“I know you wanted to try something different….but….”

His hands kneaded your sides, higher he climbed over your sweater to your breasts.

“You look ridiculous…”

One hand left your nipple and began tugging at the top of your leggings.

“Shh…” he tried to stifle a laugh. “..just go with it..”

And you did, by leaning your head back against the blue denim jacket as his fingers wondered underneath your underwear.

“..let daddy have a feel.” his breathy question muffled through the mask. Slowly he began to circle your clit, mouth hanging open your hand held the top of his black gloved hand and pushed him to press harder.

“Look at yourself...how needy you get.” he whispered.

You try to peer beyond the mask, the slits for eyes but there was nothing. Only darkness met you there. Bucky brought up his hand, held it in front of the mirror and you. He split his fingers, thick wetness strung between them like webs.

“Bend over-- hold on to the sink.” he ordered, with his hands disappearing behind you. The sound of his clothes ruffling you stared back at the mirror.

Bucky stepped forward, knocking your ankles apart with his shiny black boots and yanked your pants, underwear down and gently, he tipped into you. His long length traveled against your folds sinking further inside.

Ghostly scenes are made from the smoke casting up from the flickering fire being fed from lava colored coals. The metal chair underneath you feels cool on your bottom, because even though you are sitting on a blanket the cold night air hangs around you. 

Steve was ending his story. Though hardly a spooky tale, it didn’t have to be, for his tales were based on true events. Speaking of blood and gore the morbid tone grew in his voice and brought a shadow of delight in his eyes. You carefully watched him, observed his hunched over shoulders, his eyes turned to yours sometimes while he spoke but mostly stayed on the fire. 

You chugged from the bottle of hard cider as Bucky ate, that stupid mask was pulled up over his brows. But Clark Kent, this stranger, sat nearly directly opposite. You moved your eyes to him ever so often while Steve told his story. One of the two thought about food on the way here, chicken, you guessed was their craving. Clark leaned back, his black jacket bunched at his waist as he rose a hand to his mouth. The crunch of the crust of fried meat did not break Steve’s momentum. 

When he finished, Bucky nodded to the accuracy of the amount of soldiers, to why the only man left was brave and courageous. Clark’s eyes met yours over the flames, his skin pale, the wavy dark curls framed his face. He smiled at you as he chewed. You noticed it then, unsure why you wouldn’t have before, he held the grey cooked bone between his fingers and stuck the end in his mouth. You blinked, maybe you were seeing things -- this was your sixth cider for the night.

“Are you eating the bones?” you asked.

Clark continued to gnaw on it till it broke off in his mouth. “Waste not want not,” he said through a mouthful.

He continued to stare back at you and at the same time a chill coursed its way down your spine. Shivering in the gentle breeze the urge to go to the bathroom shot through you. 

“I’ll be right back,” and excused yourself from the fire.

Had to be a bit past ten p.m., though this was supposed to be a pleasant fall break, it didn’t truly feel that way. Not with two extra guests. You tried to not feel so desperate to be alone with Bucky. You finished washing your hands and opened the bathroom door. In the dark, lit up by the light of the bathroom a figure stood. You jumped so hard, grasping at your sweater, bent over grabbing your waist, the boogeyman mask simply stared back at you without moving.

“Bucky I swear to -- why would you? -- take that stupid thing off-” and you reached for the mask but his hand grabbed your wrist. Slowly he walked over the threshold, leaned over and flicked off the light. 

“Oh no!” you feigned a plea. “Seriously..--help..help.” you giggled through another.

The door slammed behind him trapping the dark inside. He pulled you close at first, residing to his strength, you let him touch, grab, pluck at your body. Backing you back up against the sink the rubber mask pushed against your neck, smiling in the dark you could hear him attempting to kiss you there. 

His hands ran around the waist of your leggings, one big hand gripped and caressed your ass, slipped toward your split and rubbed your asshole. You jumped again, this time wrapping your arms around his neck. Different, he had never done such a thing before, but you went with it. 

His finger crawled passed it, his other hand pushed down the front of your legging and circled your clit. 

“..help...a big bad man...help..” you chuckled under a moan. 

He jerked you away suddenly, pulled down your leggings and underwear, with a hand on your shoulder he forced you to bend over. The room filled with the sound of a smack to your back side. 

“Bucky!” 

The stinging lingered but white hot pain replaced it with another hit from his gloved hand. 

“Okay!” you rushed out. Maybe he was just being kinky, perhaps your pretending might have put him out of the mood. 

He hit you again making you grip the lip of the sink harder. “I’m sorry daddy..” you hissed.

He was back behind you again, his whole body pressed against you, scratching at the skin of your ass he plunged two thick fingers into your entrance.  Heavy breathing billowed from under the mask, hot air pooled over your shoulder and around the back of your neck. The weight of him bent you forward. He pulled out his fingers from within you and began to prod with something warmer, and far thicker at your slit as his other hand tangled with your fingers on the sink. 

And he pushed in, “..damn!” you moaned.

Jerky, irregular thrusts stretched you more than what you remembered. “Bucky!” you gasped, hoping he would slow the pace. But the other hand grabbed for your throat, squeezed tight and pumped you harder. 

“Daddy, please..” you half begged, half needingly whimpered. 

That changed his stroke, and soon the ache descended into bliss. 

“Fuck...daddy…”

His hand on yours returned to your clit, pushing hard and swiping steadily, your knees nearly buckled. Thicker for sure, veiny too, you thought, god what the loss of one sensory can do on a drunk mind. Your body bucked back against him as you rode out the orgasm. He squeezed harder, hissing and groaning under the mask you could nearly imagine him as someone else. And when he stilled inside of you, even his hiccups of pleasure could be thought of another. You shook the fantasy away as he stepped back. 

Before you could even turn around, the door opened, your eyes shot to his brown boots and then up to his back. And he left you there.

You stuffed pieces of a premade popcorn ball into your mouth. Bucky sat there weaving a tale of spirits walking through walls, of ancient gods embedded into objects best left to rest where they laid. Still buzzing hard you stayed captivated by his tone. It was something about the secretive way his voice projected that kept you staring at him, wondering if it could be true, but knew it mustn’t. 

It was still cool out, the shabby blanket thrown over your sore legs did little to keep the wind out. But it made for a good catcher, which is what you were doing toward the end of his story. Picking up pieces of fallen popcorn, and pizza flavored chip crumbs somehow made it to your mouth despite the only source of light was a waning fire.

“So if you ever hear your name called..don’t ever answer back, unless you can see it’s a actually living person.” Bucky finished and glanced over at you proudly.

“I hate that story.” you slurred your words a bit and shook out the blanket on your lap. “I hope you’re happy, you have to walk me everywhere until we return home.”

You picked up the last bottle off the ground and drank the last bit. The clash of flavors swirled on your tongue leaving a bitter after taste.

“Babe do you have any gum?”

“There’s a pack in the middle console--” Steve spoke up. “Back there in the truck..” he said hooking his thumb over his shoulder.

You rolled your eyes over in Steve’s direction. A smug grin, and a wrinkle on the side of one eye simply gazed back at you. 

“You’re fine,” he said finally. “You’ve got us here...nothings gunna get you.” he reminded smoothly.

And the moment was quiet, poised on the end of the gentle breeze blowing through the heat of the fire. The rustle of sleeping honeysuckle vines, somewhere near the old rotted out shack Steve’s truck sat was the only identifiable sound for a few seconds. 

“Fine.” you huffed and stood up to get that gum.

You walked down the dirt path the short way from the front of the house where Bucky, Steve and Clark sat. The tin roofing of the old shed rocked, and slapped against itself the closer you got. And of course Steve parked on the other side, out of the sight of the house and fire. But you walked quickly, or rather, as fast as two aching legs could in the cool weather. 

The knocking sound only got heavier, louder as you squinted in the dark toward the blackest corner of the area. Steve’s truck was within a few footsteps and you batted away any imaginings of spooky phantoms. You slipped passed the door, your hand flipped up the middle console and snagged up the pack of gum before slamming the door back. And when you turned around, just off from where you had previously walked was a figure. The white, deathly pale mask was the only part you could really see.

“Fuck!” you shouted, dropping the pack of gum. “Bucky!” you hissed and reached back down to retrieve it. 

The yellow fire light was at his back when he moved forward toward you. 

“Okay...no more mask!”

You stuffed the gum under your arms and went to yank at the mask. But he caught your arm and squeezed down like a vice grip. “Hey--easy there..” you said quietly. 

He pulled you toward the shed, but just outside of it, along the rotten wall of it a few old deep freezers were lined up against it collecting weeds, and dust. 

“Oh no, Bucky..those look super dirty..” you tried to jerk your arm away but he only pulled you harder. “...Really? You’re this committed to fucking in that mask?”

This time your hand grabbed enough of the back of the mask to rip it fully up over his head. At that same moment you were jerked forward between the rusty freezer and him. Your eyes now bulging and fighting for light to correct what you were seeing in the dark stared up at him. You blinked several times once more before you realized the angular features did not belong to Bucky. Thick curly hair, messy all over haloed around his face, and of course, you weren’t sure why you hadn’t noticed before, he was taller. It was Clark.

You made to quickly move away from him but he snapped you back, “Get off me!” Your voice shook, and so did your body. 

“Bucky’s right over there...all I have to do is scr--”

The air whipped out of your lungs so fast as Clark slammed his palm over your mouth and rushed your back down on to the freezer. 

“I’ve been waiting all night for this..” he whispered.

No amount of squirming could equal the might Clark welding against your struggling. It was like a man made of iron held you down, even when his other hand disappeared between your legs, the tearing of your legging, your underwear did not loosen his hold. And then the unfolding of his clothes paired with the gentle brushing of the vines against wood near your head sent you into hysterical kicking. Your legs on either side of him squeezed, and jerked to no avail. 

“-don’t act so innocent. You’ve already fucked two different men tonight.”

You stopped kicking, eyes wide above his hand you glowered at him through the dark. “You won’t mind..will you?”

Shaking your head you held your breath. The thick end of his cock began to push past your folds. 

“Slut.” 

He lowered his forehead on to yours, what you imagined was him staring back down at you but could see only the tip of his nose. A shuddering breath pulled through your nose as he sank further to his balls. “You’re wet from it still…”

He started snapping into you, hard and fast, slapping his lust into your unwilling cunt. Clark’s hand slipped to your chin, his lips hovering above yours. 

“Are you going to call me daddy too?” he asked, with his breath steadily huffing into your mouth. “..Say it for me baby..” 

“Let me hear that little desperate voice..” He kissed you, slipping his tongue along the inside of your lower lip and then against your face as you turned your head. “Come on..” And then he started jabbing, a feral thumping into you. Sharp pains up your thighs shot further into your core. You denied him and he lowered his head to your neck. He sucked on your skin, flicked his tongue around and inside your ear. “Say it,” he whispered. 

You whimpered in response as his teeth began to snag on the wet skin of your neck. He sucked hard, drawing out needle points of pain. 

You pray to god Bucky could hear this, you’ve been gone too long certainly either Steve or him could. Clark kept nibbling, and groaning in between thrusts. When you refused once again he shoved his palm back over your mouth, the other brought your wrist up and twisted it into a bone breaking angle. 

He stopped moving inside of you as his deep voice raked over clenched teeth, “What was that?” he asked. The warm palm slid down to your chin. 

“..daddy.” you shivered out.

You could hear the satisfied smile in his voice. “Good..girl.” he whispered. 

“That wasn’t so hard to say was it babe?”

The sound of Bucky’s voice from the darkest, most grown up side of the shed sent your eyes reeling in the dark. Clark put his hand back over your mouth and kept going. 

Bucky stood at the edge of the freezer, in the dark the features of his face were smudged. A gentle hand caressed the top of your forehead. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Let Clark finish.”

At Bucky’s words, Clark released your mouth, he rose up and held your upper arms down as he continued to fuck you roughly. Your eyes stayed on Bucky’s silhouette, high pitch whimpering up at him did not go unheard. 

Bucky cupped your chin and head. “Shush,” he hushed down your sobbing face. 

Another pair of hands tore at the front of your sweater. To his right, another figure stepped to your side. The figures loomed over you while your breasts chilled, and peaked in the cool night air. A deft hot hand kneaded and groped at the nearest one. 

“You told us she was good….” Steve pinched your nipple hard. “She’s fucking outstanding.”

Bucky leaned over you, he grabbed for your thigh but you kicked away. Clark relinquished some leverage to pull your thigh up so Bucky could hold your ankle. “Yeah, get in there good.” Bucky’s voice rose above your strangled cries. Steve got your other leg, held it folded it in high and tight, that allowed Clark to pound you deeper. 

He grinded his hips into yours burning his stiff cock into your core. His grip tightened around your arms pinning you for good below him. “Where am I going to empty my balls?” Clark demanded on a puff of air. 

Tears slid down the corners of your eyes. They rolled from the darken outlines of Bucky above you to Steve at his side and then back to the man between your legs. 

“..in me.” you sniffled out. 

“And who are we--” Bucky asked softly. 

You didn’t bother to look in the direction of his voice, Clark’s head threw back, a deep moan started in his chest as his hips kept pumping. “Say it baby..” Clark whispered.

“..daddy.” you whimpered.

[thesummerpetrichor]

Hello everyone…. it’s been a while.

Almost 2 years ago I decided that I didn’t really want continue writing on tumblr, or anywhere at all. It was a mix of exhaustion– from putting out content regularly and hardly getting any interaction save for spam likes, a loss of interest in fandom, and life in general.

To keep it short and sweet, I think I might make a brief reappearance on this blog. I’ve been wanting to write recently, mainly because I have some time on my hands, and need a creative outlet! Bear with me, my uploads may be slow and sporadic, and probably won’t last very long, but for now I miss writing and I want to allow myself to do it once again.

I will now be writing for a few more characters, ie Javier Peña and Joel Miller. The old ones will remain. They won’t necessarily be cannon and I’m looking at them – anyone I write for, to be a stand in characters for a story I want to tell. If that’s not for you, that’s alright, I appreciate your understanding.

I’d love to interact with everyone once again, though I realise many people have abandoned tumblr since I last posted……

Feel free to drop a message in my inbox, blog rules remain as they always were. I’d love to know what you’d like to see on the blog content wise.

I hope we can have fun on here again together, even if it’s just for a moment!

Looking forward to seeing you again

- Summer 🐝

Ps: tagging some people who made my time on here wonderful, and who I hope I can interact with once again, much love.

@navybrat817 @honeystevie @jannqt @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @astrorogers @syntheticavenger @babyboibucky @celestianstars @strawbeariediary @smutsonian @thefallenbibliophilequote @astrorogers @mianorth

@stargirlfics @babyjakes @dreamlessinparis @mcudarklibrary

Apologies if I missed anyone!

[oneoftheprettynerds]

Lipstick and Crayons Masterlist (In Progress)

Summary: Steve can’t ever repay you for what you did. After meeting you, Steve believes his broken family is the missing piece in the puzzle of your own wrecked one. Indebting the crime lord to you has been the biggest mistake of your life, cause now you can’t get rid of him, no matter what. Loyalty and favours go a long way in the mob.

Warnings: Non Con, Death, Violence. Each chapter has warnings. 

1. Welcome To The Darkside (5 January 2021, 00:04 AM lol) {4K}

2. Just My Type (12 January 2021 5:18 AM lol) {6K}

3. Love So Soft (27 January 2021 7:26 PM) {8.5K}

4. Fixed (13 March 2021 10:15 PM I think lol) {5K}

5. In The Name Of Love (5:30 AM, 14 April 2021) {3K}

6. Don't Let Me Down (June 6th, 2021, 5: 53 AM)

7. Middle Of The Night (July 23rd 2021, 1:14 AM)

[navybrat817]

Can you please recommend some really good accounts that write DARK FICS for Chris Evans (& characters) and Sebastian Stan (& characters)

Hi, nonnie. @mcudarklibrary has a list of writers who write dark fics for Steve and Bucky, and many of those writers extend to other Evans and Seb characters.

Lovelies, please feel free to add. I know I'm missing quite a few.

Love and thanks. ❤️

[champagne-bucky]

Debt to Be Paid: V

Summary: Earth fears intergalactic war with another planet. The Avengers are called to work out negotiations on Zevitar, the planet of peace. What happens when they are reunited with their long lost team member?

Warnings: dark!Bucky x reader, mentions of non/dub-con, age gap (reader is of age)

Notes: So, ummmmm, here’s the next chapter. Sorry it took so long. If I gotta be honest I kinda lost my inspiration for writing for a while. Kinda hope I get it back soon thought, got exciting things planned. Anyways let me know how y’all like this chapter. Enjoy :)

*Back on Zevitar*

Steve felt as if he were about to pass out. He was torn between thinking that the sight in front of him was either a hallucination due to sleep deprivation or his daughter was really standing face to face with him. He had to check.

He raised his hand and brought it towards your face. Steve stroked your cheek as he gasped. It really was you.

You were at a loss for words yourself. Tears started to stream down your face as Steve stroked your cheek. For the first time in a long time, you felt comfort.

“It’s you,” Steve mumbled more to himself than you.

The moment was soon ruined by the sound of Asher’s crying. You broke out of Steve’s hold and excused yourself to attend the wailing newborn.

“Uh, um, you are free to come in,” you picked up your boy and began to soothe him.

Steve stepped into the lavish room, but his eyes remained on you. He could not think of what to say next. It was almost as if his vocal chords were ripped out. What could he possibly say to a person that he thought he’d never see again?

You were so busy trying to calm down Asher that the shock of seeing Steve hadn’t fully hit you yet. Of course you missed him, but you were scared. How did he get here and who else was with him?

The only other option was to kick him out of your room and tell that you would explain everything the next day. You needed the time to formulate something good, but more importantly you would need time to run away if there was mention of going home.

Asher seemed to calm down a bit right when another knock sounded at your door. You feared that another unwanted Avenger might be at your door, but you made sure to ask who it was before opening.

The royal doctor came in and began to look at your baby. While he began his examination, you looked over at Steve. His eyes never left your body and his mouth was still parted. You walked over to finally speak to him.

“Steve, maybe we should talk-”

“Why are you here Y/N?” Steve looked as if he were about to cry.

“Steve, we should-” Steve got up looking exasperated.

“Why are you here? Where did you go? Why did you leave me, us?” The doctor stopped his examination of your son in concern.

“Maybe we should talk somewhere in private,” you grabbed Steve’s arm and he reluctantly followed you.

You told the doctor you’d have to step out for the moment and he had no choice but to agree. The maids could always come fetch you when the doctor was done with Asher, but right now you had to take care of things with Steve.

The palace kitchen was always vacant at this hour of the night. When you were children, you and your brother would always sneak down to it for midnight snacks.

“Maybe you should take a seat, Steve,” Steve was silent, but obeyed.

__

It wasn’t easy telling the person you loved that you had to run away out of fear. You knew the responses Steve would give.

“We could’ve helped you. You shouldn't be scared, you’ll always have someone to protect you,” Steve reached out to you.

You almost tried at his words. If only he knew who he had to protect you from then maybe things would’ve been okay back home.

“I was afraid, Steve. There was already so much going on back home, a baby would’ve added too much to the stress.”

Of course you couldn’t tell him the truth. A gnawing part inside you held you back. Steve’s reality had been shattered and pieced back together all in a matter of five minutes when he found you. You figured he had everything he wanted: his daughter and his best friend were both safe.

And you know Steve, he would never let you or Bucky slip away from him again, which is why it was hard to tell him that this reunion would only be temporary.

“You what?”

“You have to understand, Steve, my home is here. My brother can help me, he can help Asher as well,” you could see his heartbreaking all over again.

“And the father?”

“What Zach doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” you would forever curse yourself for bringing that poor boy into this mess. You could only hope Steve wouldn’t try and harm him again.

“The others, Wanda, Natasha, Tony, they’ll want to know why I couldn’t take you back,” Steve was trying his hardest to bargain with you. You didn’t know it yet, but Steve needed you more than you needed him.

“If I go back, you know what they’ll try to do to me, I can’t leave Asher without a mother.”

“I’ll protect you.”

“Tony won’t let you,” his face fell.

“So is this goodbye, forever?” your face fell this time. Was it truly going to be goodbye for the last time?

You pushed your tears back, “I’m sure we can figure something out,” you grabbed Steve’s hand.

“Planets away?” his voice cracked.

“I know it’ll be tough at first, but you have to understand that it’ll be better this way.”

Steve tried to understand your reasoning, but the inner workings of his mind wouldn’t stop bargaining with solutions on how you two could stay together. He just found you after all this time, how on earth could he leave you again?

__

“I can’t tell anyone?” Steve asked you for the hundredth time.

“Steve, it’ll be for the best. I promise you, things will work out in the end,” the two of you stopped outside your door.

“Can we meet again… tomorrow night?” Steve was almost worried to ask, afraid that this would be his last time seeing you in the remaining days he’s stuck here.

“I’m sure I can arrange something,” you smiled as you opened the door to your room, eager to see your little one.

“Remember, tell no one,” you winked and bid him a final goodnight.

“I promise,” Steve replied, although he was unsure just how he could keep this monumental secret from anyone, let alone his trusted friend.

[johnkrrasinski]

ℑ𝔫𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔚𝔬𝔬𝔡𝔰

Chapter 1: The Archer & The Prey 

full masterlist // series masterlist

Pairings: dark!Steve Rogers x female!reader

Word count: 4,517

Warnings: sexual themes, kidnapping, stalking. (MUST BE 18+) 

Summary: after the death of your mother, you decided that you were going to do something new to honor her. You chose a perfect camping spot somewhere down South. You thought it was going to be the life-changing vacation that you never had in your life, until Steve Rogers, a man existed in roughness and control all his life, found you.

a/n: this is the dark!steve rogers series that i have promised. this one is going to be much darker than the last one shot fic i posted, so please leave, if you are under 18+. please leave a like and comment. enjoy! 

It had been a long time since you last went on a vacation. You had been taking care of your then sick mother, every day and barely got enough time for yourself between working your humdrum job as an accountant at Stark's Industries and rushing to the hospital every night to your mother to keep her company.

However, it's not your concern anymore now. You had just gone home from attending her funeral. It was bleak and wearisome. You had to deal with your family and friends who put on these fake, mournful faces and pretended that they were heartbroken when they never gave a shit when she was still alive and healthy. They barely took their time to visit her during her hospitalization.

Your mother was your best friend, the only person in your life who truly cared for you and took care of you during your childhood and teenager years, even after you were an adult, your mother still saw you as this little girl who needed some tending after she scrapped her knees.

You were a shy, delicate, and reticent person who kept to herself and didn't keep a lot of companion in your life. You had some classmates from high school and college that you still kept in touch with, you also had some colleagues that you would text with once in a while regarding professional matters.

However, you wouldn't consider them as friends, it wasn't about trust issues or anything severe, it was simply just who you are. You were an introvert who felt much more at ease when you are not surrounded by anyone. But your mother was the only exception, growing up as the only child of a single mother, it wasn't easy to simply let your guard down to anyone. You had learned that when you are alone, you felt less anxious and you'd like to keep it that way. Working at the Stark Industries rewarded you well but it was stressful enough as it is, you wouldn't want to add that pile of stress.

Now that your mother is gone, you've never felt more alone in your life. You walked into your apartment with hands buried in the pocket of your black coat, with your head down, you tried to hold yourself steady as you fumble for your key. You unlocked the door and you stepped into your home. You took a moment to take a deep breath and took a look at your surrounding. You felt helpless. So you took off your coat, went into a shower, and broke down into tears.

You dried yourself off later that night and put on your favorite oversized sweater, you call it your "pity sweater", you've had it in your closet since you were fifteen and every time you hit rock bottom, like the time when you first received the news that your mom was terribly ill and she only had a few more months to live, you decide that to drown yourself in your own self-pity party and of course you'd wear the right outfit to celebrate it.

You laid on your bed later that night, under the opacity of your room, trying to numb the pain by ingesting some sleeping pills, but it didn't help, your eyes are still wide open and you can still hear the resonance of your muffled sobs. Slowly but surely, the seconds turned into minutes, and before you knew it, you were fast asleep, drifting away into the land of dreams.

You are running in the middle of a dark forest, being chased by the wolves with their cuspidate teeth glistening in the murk threatening to devour you. They were running faster than the wind, you were having trouble of trying to outrun them, you felt your energy started to dwindle down, your feet got weaker and cold sweats started to break out of your skin. You were so fixated on running that you didn't realize one of the wolfpacks had caught onto your dress, it was torn away from you and you tripped and your back hit the ground. The last thing you saw was a blue-eyed wolf, gritting its fangs, staring deep into your eyes, with its face closer and closer to yours then everything went black.

The next day, you went back to your work, as usual, your boss, Tony Stark had been generous enough to offer you to take a day off, you refused it at first because if you were left alone one more second doing nothing productive, your mind would start to wander to your mother and you would end up having another breakdown on your kitchen floor. So you had to distract yourself, get your gloomy mind off the tragedy that had befallen on you. Your only escape was work.

It's not like you would hit the bar and order some drinks, it wasn't your thing. It would trigger your anxiety the minute you step foot on the door. To be at peace, all it needed was the companion of your romance novels and some hot chocolate. The concept of dressing up and going home shit faced is a foreign idea to you. It would absolutely be madness if you risked your own comfort zone just to end up in a stranger's car and not remembering a single event that happened last night. Your mother always warned you about being reckless and talking to strange men.

She would always say; "you have to be careful, y/n, there are men who are steadily seeking their next prey. They would lure you into their charm and capitalize on you in their bed. And the next thing you know, you are 4 weeks pregnant and you are going to have to carry that tiny life inside you and raise it on your own."

That's how you were born into this world, actually. You never knew who your father was, and nor did your mother. She was only 23 when she decided to live her life and savor her youth. She was a brilliant young woman who was supposed to have a long, bright future ahead of her. She had graduated from college with a psychology degree and one night, she decided to break out of her shell and accepted her roommate's invitation to go to a party. Little did she know, that party was going to turn her life upside down, forever.

She still walked away with a degree, but there wasn't an ounce of bright future left for her. She had this frail life in her belly depending on her to keep it alive. She had gone to her parents and asked for their help, but they abandoned her. They were filled with rage when your mother told them the jaw-dropping news. They were disappointed in her for being so stupid and negligent. They had high expectations for her. So when your mother begged for their forgiveness, they told her to leave their home and never show her face ever again instead.

Hence, you never knew your grandparents too well either, your mother had shown you some pictures of them, the ones that she still had despite never talking to them again, but she spoke wonderfully about how they raised her right despite their strictness and their unwavering push on her to do better. Your mother was anything but. She took care of you with gentleness and she decided that she didn't want you to live in fear of your own mother.

You loved her more than anything in life. Your mother was your whole world, the one who cured all the rainy days and gave you a secure home when the hurricane in your life was too mighty. Your world was crushed, burned, and taken away when she died. You had to be your own person now.

So you decided to take on Tony's offer of letting a week off. He told you that you need to take your time to mourn and that he didn't need you to be operating his finance when your head was clearly not in the right place. You went home early that day and make yourself some lunch.

You sat on your couch with a bowl filled with cereal in your hands, watching the rerun of Friends. It was the episode where they were going on a ski trip but Phoebe's car broke down. You loved this series and each episode always gave you a good laugh even when you don't feel like it.

It struck an idea in you, what if... You decided to go on a vacation instead of limping around in your apartment, wallowing in self-pity? Maybe it's time for you to get out of your comfort zone and do what might be best for you. It's going to be new and different and scary for sure, but you might never know if you never try. This might help you find yourself and your own inner peace. Your mom would want that for you. She used to always talk about wanting to go camping, especially when she was sick.

She said, "you know when all of this is over and I'm finally free out of this condition, I wanna go camping in the middle of the woods."

You looked up from the book you were reading, with a chuckle you amused her. "Camping, mom? Really? Never knew you were a nature person."

"Oh, I am sweetheart, I used to go hiking and climbing and skiing when I was young. I never really had that chance anymore now that I am older." She lied, she would never say it was because she had to have you that she couldn't go on all these adventures anymore. "The only problem now is that I have to endure this pain a little longer then we can explore the world as long as we want, dear." She chuckled, but her cough interrupted it.

You put down your book on your thighs and immediately reached out her hand.

"Mom, you are gonna get better, I promise. You have to."

You decided to google some camping spots that might intrigue you, you weren't looking for anything opulent or temerarious, just enough to clear your mind off the gloom and to invigorate the spirit in you to go back to work. Maybe, you'd try to meditate in the middle of the woods, yeah, you've always wondered about that, would it really be effective? This might be the time to discover the answer. You can picture it, the fresh air encompassing you, the sound of the birds chirping as if they were welcoming you, and there wouldn't be a single soul that could intrude your solitude.

After doing some research, you decided that you have found the perfect spot. A green-covered land somewhere down South, you did a little deeper digging into its whereabouts, and you took a screenshot of it and bookmarked the page.

That night, you started to feel like the match inside you was lit. After days of being engulfed in grief, you started to feel hope, just a sheer of it. But it was enough to make you feel like you weren't so lost and hopeless. You decided to have an early night after you finished watching Friends and get yourself some rest. You are going to wake up early to pack and prepare yourself to leave this godforsaken town for a few days. You were excited to see what tomorrow holds.

The next morning, you took a shower and got yourself ready. You had packed just enough to last a few days in the woods. You brought your camping tent with you, the one your mother had bought but never actually got to use it. You put your travel bag in the trunk of your car and you sat on the driver's seat to heat up the engine.

You put on some relaxing Jazz music to console your ears and to prevent your thoughts from drifting to your mother. You were going to focus on the roads and what was waiting ahead of you. The soft hum of the engine soothed you. You were savoring the crisp air of Autumn. Fall was your favorite season, the way everything seems chill and slow, it wasn't loud and harsh like summer, but it does feel like a faint new beginning in a way, like the transition of the 5 am sky, from dark hue midnight sky to a luminous royal blue.

You had the windows rolled down as the wind wafted your skin. You were dressed in your cotton knit cream sweater and a knee-length denim shorts. You had taken a quick stop at the nearest Starbucks outlet to get a cup of hot chocolate. You weren't exactly a coffee type of person. You didn't exactly get what makes people so addicted to it. You didn't like the still remaining taste despite pouring three packets of sugar on it. You loved the hot chocolate because sweetness always enlightened your mood. Your mother used to make you a glass of hot chocolate when you were groggy or when you were anxious. You guess it sticks with you no matter how old you are.

A few hours down the road, the temperature started to rise, you can feel the sticky sweat clinging on your skin cloaked under the thickness of your sweater. You stopped by the gas station to fill in your tank, you were back on the road after you bought some snacks. Not only your car that needed to be loaded, but your stomach also did.

You finally arrived at your destination. You had to drive down some uneven roads that bounced all your items inside and you were feeling a bit nauseated after hours of sitting on the driver's seat and the coarse path. But when you finally reached the spot that you found on the internet, it was worth it. You forgot all the hindrances that you had to endure to get yourself here. The pictures that you saved on your phone didn't do justice to the real scenery.

The land was surrounded by nothing but pine green circling around you. The trees were tall, venerable, and benignant. You could hear the sound of the waterfall coursing through the river and it was a picturesque sight. You took a deep breath to inhale the fresh air. For a second, you forgot what you were here in the first place, you relished the stunning mother nature before you.

But then a picture of your mother, smiling emerged into view. You remembered the look on her face when she talked about all the travel plans she had when she recovers. She never had that chance, and it tore you to pieces, again. The thing about losing someone you love the most is that no matter how many good things you have throwing themselves on your way, the pain doesn't just vanish into thin air. It leaves and comes back every once in a while. It gives you space to breathe and to collect yourself and then when it knows you've walked long enough in the light, it comes back to haunt you, reminding you that it never really left.

But you tried to focus on the present, you can't make your mother come back or travel back in time to keep her alive, so you were going to cherish this moment for her. You were going to feast on this fleeting tranquility that you have.

You stood there until you felt like you were jaded for being on your feet for too long. You went back to your car to take your tent and try to set it up. You had to look that up on the internet too, to get it standing perfectly. After what feels like your thousandth attempts, you were glad that it finally relented and let you use it as a makeshift home.

By the time you were done, it was already afternoon. You decided that you were going to take a look around the woods, you weren't going to just stay in one spot, you still had a few hours until it goes dark and of course you weren't going to be stupid enough to wander around the forest that you had never been to after dusk.

You decided you were going to just walk in nearby areas. You were terrified of getting too far, you might end up lost and couldn't find your way back. You only brought your cellphone that was practically useless because you couldn't find any signal there, but you still needed it to take pictures. You also decided to take a bottle of water with you. Quenching your thirst is essential in a journey through the woods.

You kept on walking while stopping once in a while to capture what you find stunning. You were so lost in looking for your next shot to snap, you didn't see the edged branch that was tapered pointedly until your skin grazed against it, causing a deep, painful cut on your left thigh. It was so piked that it left a horizontal shred on your knee-high shorts too.

You dropped your phone to the soil and yielded a high pitched squeal. It reminded you of the traumatic incident in kindergarten, where you were playing chase and run with a classmate, and you stumbled on a hard rock that left a permanent scar on your right knee.

You fell on the ground because you couldn't withhold the agony any longer. You try to stop the bleeding by ripping a piece of your torn jeans, even though it required some struggle. You did not want to let it get infected. You bandaged the crimson wound and you sat there for a few minutes to calm yourself down. You held yourself back on your hands pressed to the soil, you didn't care that it was going to get dirty, you just needed to find a comfortable position until you decide that you were strong enough to return to your tent.

Little did you know, your shriek had invited an unwanted presence. No, no, not the spooky kind. More like a starving wolf that you saw in your dreams a couple of nights ago, with spiked tusks ready to hunt its prey.

So much for thinking that this would be the best vacation of your life...

Steve Rogers had been living in this enormous cabin in the woods all his life. He was raised by his parents whom his grandparents trusted to take care of the cabin. When his grandfather died, he left it to his parents as his inheritance. His father used to teach him hunting and his mother used to teach him how to cook. They taught him a lot of things to survive living in the woods. It wasn't an easy life, they had to get things done all by themselves.

They had to work hard to get their basic needs. They had to habituate themselves in being isolated. It wasn't a difficult thing for Steve because he was always a lone wolf who was vigilant towards his privacy, but a part of he couldn't help but wish that he had someone to take care of. Someone he could keep to himself. Someone who he could call his and his only. Someone who he could... possess. He didn't feel lonely, no, he loved being alone. He loved his autonomy. But he was only a man after all and man has needs. When he was feeling needy and jerking himself off wasn't just doing it anymore for him, he would often go to the city, an hour drive was all it took to get to the nearest brothel house.

Whenever he walked into the door of that ranch, his steps were heard loud and clear and his presence was witnessed effortlessly. It wasn't difficult for a man like him to spend hours in the bordello, his stamina was ceaseless and, let's just say that he was an... ingenious man. He understood a woman's body and what it desires. He wasn't afraid to use his skill and his expertise to fulfill his appetite and his subject. Oh, and how he could take his time to satisfy each one of these ladies.

But whenever he was finished, he would return home with this feeling of void, yes his physical thirst was quenched and his cock wasn't painfully hard anymore that it hurt, at least he got to release the tension that would've left him high and dry if he hadn't fucked some pussy, but there was still something missing. He still hadn't found that one thing he could domineer within the privacy of the woods. The brothel provided private rooms for their customers for sure, but nothing was more pleasant to him than being in his own private quarters, and the thought that these women he had a good time with weren't exactly his, bored him.

He was fatigued by the fact that they have slept with other people too. It's not like he had some sort of attachment to any of them, but that just reminded him of something he still couldn't find. He needed to make a quick move. He was a determined man, once he set his mind on something, he will do whatever it takes to obtain it. And once he found that one girl that he knew would be his favorite possession, he would take her without a second thought and he would make her his.

He drove his beatdown truck back into the woods, the deserted road had become too familiar to him to turn on the beam headlights. He cleaned himself off under the boiling hot water, wipe away the droplets of water that were clinging to his slightly tanned skin, after years of hunting in the middle of the day where the sun was scorching hot and he never bothered of covering every inch of himself up, nobody was going to see him after all.

Later that night, he dropped himself on to the mattress without being bothered to put on any coverups. He always slept nude. It started drizzling outside when he decided that he was going to call it a night. He was going to go hunting tomorrow, so he needed to gather all his energy to make sure he wouldn't miss his target on the day. So he shut his eyes away and drifted into unconsciousness.

The next morning, he woke up precisely at 7.30 am and gathered all his hunting tools. He had his rifle and his bullets with him. Although he didn't really need much because he had been doing this his whole life, he almost never missed a shot. He was patient enough to observe his target, and he calculated his next move meticulously. He put the rifle near his nose then he waited until he knew his shot would be hit exactly between the target's eyes. Then bam! Within a matter of seconds, it ceased to breathe. Then he put the lifeless creature into his sack.

The day was still young and he decided to repose and chugged down half of the water container. When he felt energized enough, he decided to hike a little farther into the outer parts of the woods. He packed up his rifle and his water container along with his deceased prey.

That's when he heard it. An earsplitting squeal. His senses were alert enough to measure the direction of where it came from. His pace was accelerated towards it. He didn't halt until he saw a tiny, cotton-knit wrapped figure, reclining on the muddy ground, bandaging what seemed to be her wounded thigh with a piece of ripped jeans.

He stood there behind a giant tree, leaning on his arm against it, and observed the sight before him. A young, beautiful girl who didn't look any older than 25, she looked in distress. Her hands were dirty of mud. She seemed unaware of her environs.

She kept mewling in pain, he didn't know how she got the wound, although he could put it in his head that with the phone that was lying next to her, the screen still on display, and next to her head was a very twinged branch, he could put the math together and theorized that she was too starstruck by the sceneries in this woods, just like any other local tourist would, that she didn't notice the poked out, nature-made shank.

But he was entranced by the sight before him. She was really pretty, the kind of beauty that makes you want to keep your eyes on nothing else but her. Like the constellation had aligned, burst into flames, landed on the Earth, and gave birth to a woman. It was divine and striking, in the most heartwarming way.

He wasn't standing too far away but it was enough to not alarm her. The benefit was that he could keep ogling as long as he wanted. About twenty minutes had passed and she finally decided to get on her feet. She picked up her phone and pat her hands together to brush off the remnants of the dirt that were still clinging to her palms. Her sweater was slightly tarnished but she didn't seem to bother stroking it off. She walked to the other direction. She was limping but she held herself straight.

She finally halted at the place where there was a tent, illuminated from the inside, and there was a car. He learned immediately that, that's where she was staying. The usual tourist spot. He didn't see anyone else with her. She seemed to be camping alone.

That was odd, usually, couples, a group of high school kids, or families camp together. He was always irked by those intruders who occupied the land. They luxuriated from nature, but how did they pay her in return? By littering the surface and leaving junk all over the site. They didn't even bother gathering them in one place so that it would be easier for the Foresters to pick them up.

Poor girl, he thought. She must be really lonely to go out here alone. People don't choose these woods to have 'alone' time. They usually choose the libraries or the Bahamas, if they want to go a little extravagant. This girl mustn't know a lot about camping too, from the way she set up her tent, it looks slightly rumpled, it could still keep her safe though, well not too safe, now that he's here. But at least she wouldn't be soaked if it rains.

Her car was parked right behind the tent, it was a simple pearl white Chevy Spark. She seemed to travel light. He couldn't see much through the tinted windows, but he had seen giant truck cars and jeeps that were overweight with travel bags more than necessary. He memorized all the details of the setting and made a fixed resolution on his mind.

He is doing some hunting tonight...

[navybrat817]

Yes, nonnie! Roo and I hope to boost a few writers, which includes dark writers. I have a couple of dark and soft!dark things in the works and I'm excited to share once they're finished.

@mcudarklibrary has a pinned list that could also help lead to a few writers. The labels aren't helping at all, sadly.

How to find dark fics then? Any tips?

Honestly I struggle to. Which is why me and @navybrat817 are having the @the-slumberparty in an effort for writers to boost themselves and their works. I'd say ao3 is probably easier to find fics.

[cherienymphe]

Crossfire (Biker!Bucky x Reader x Steve)

Warnings: eventual NON-CON, eventual violence (including domestic), eventual kidnapping

PLEASE DNI IF ANY OF THIS OFFENDS YOU

summary: You and your new husband Steve move back to his hometown. It is here that his past catches up with him, and you both pay the price.

Ok guys! Its back up! Thank God I have all my stories in Word because the clown really jumped out five minutes ago. Heads up, if you liked or reblogged the original, it is gone! That post ceases to exist so here it is to make the rounds again :)

~

You tightened your hold around Steve’s neck, looking around in awe as he carried you through the threshold. The large house was older, but you didn’t care about how modern it was or not. It had character and charm…and it was all yours now.

“Someone comes to keep up with the place every now and then, but…,” he trailed off, setting you down.

“Steve, I love it! How could I not? Besides, this house has been in your family for years. I’ll take this over some cookie cutter barbie house, any day,” you said, taking his hand.

Truly, it was nothing a little TLC couldn’t fix. To be perfectly honest, you were a bit impressed. When Steve had told you that his family owned a house, you were expecting something much more modest. After all, he grew up in a small town, so you hadn’t gotten your hopes up by expecting much.

He wrapped his arms around you from behind, and you giggled when he nuzzled your neck.

“I’m glad you like it…wife,” he whispered.

You bit your lip, wrapping your hands around his forearm as he pressed kisses into your neck. The two of you had been married for a little over a month, now, but your stomach still fluttered whenever he called you that. Mrs. Y/N Rogers. You didn’t think you would ever get used to that. You felt an unexplainable happiness fill you as you looked around again.

You had met Steve on the way to a doctor’s appointment one day. You’d bumped into each other, coffee was spilled, apologies were given, and numbers had been exchanged. The rest was history. There were times when you thought it was almost too good to be true. Steve was virtually perfect. Handsome, smart, charming, and funny. Sure, he could be stuck in his ways a bit, but you found it endearing.

The two of you had been seeing each other for a little over a year when he popped the question. You had been completely caught off guard, especially since the topic had never come up. There had been a time when you thought you would never get married, but then you met Steve, and all of that changed. You remembered the shock you felt as you realized there was no hesitation in you to say ‘yes’.

The wedding was small and tasteful, full of nothing but close friends and family. Most of them were yours, and even though Steve wasn’t bothered by the fact that only three people came for him, you were. It was why you tried so hard to make him feel at home in your family, because he didn’t have any left.

“Let’s get the boxes inside…and then we can focus on breaking in the new bed,” he hummed, lips brushing against your skin.

“Sounds like a plan to me,” you purred, following him out of the house.

It had started to drizzle slightly while you were inside, and a shudder passed through you as the cold droplets hit your skin. As you opened the trunk to get another box, you heard a rumble coming from down the street. It was the familiar sound of a motorcycle, and you brushed it off. You gripped the box with some difficulty and didn’t pay it any mind when you noticed Steve had paused in his own task, hand resting on the hood of the car as he stared down the street.

You gently set the box down just inside with a huff, sliding it out of the doorway with your foot as the sound of a motorcycle engine grew closer. You brushed your hands off, stepping outside with a slight frown as two drivers made their way into the driveway, parking their bikes not far behind the car. Steve was standing in the driveway, now, arms crossed over his chest. He tilted his head slightly as he heard your footsteps.

“Y/N, go back-.”

“Steve!”

Your eyes widened at that, realizing that these men knew him. You shouldn’t have been surprised. It was a small town after all, but they didn’t really seem like Steve’s kind of crowd, especially not close enough for them to just pull in his driveway unannounced, but if you had learned anything over the past year and a half or so, it was that Steve could be full of surprises.

“Well, well, well… Look who’s back in town. I see you moved back into the old house too,” one of the men said as he swung off of his bike.

He was the taller of the two, dark hair cut low and facial hair connecting around his mouth. The other had a much fairer complexion, short brown hair pushed away from his face as his blue-green eyes studied you. They both sported worn jeans and similar leather jackets. You noted, with disapproval, that neither one of them wore helmets.

“Sam, it’s been too long,” your husband said.

You watched as they leaned in to do that weird man hug thing, and Steve repeated the action with the other man. You heard Steve refer to him as Clint. You felt a bit awkward as Steve backed up, and you wondered if it was just your imagination or was he blocking you a bit.

“…and…who is this?” Clint wondered, tilting his head to look around Steve’s shoulder and get a better look.

You were stepping forward before Steve could say anything, offering your hand.

“Hi! It’s so nice to meet some of Steve’s friends,” you said.

Their grips were firm, hands rough as they accepted your offer. You didn’t miss the way Clint ran his eyes over you, and you remembered that rain was currently soaking your shirt. You stepped back, and Steve wasted no time in wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side.

“This is my wife, Y/N,” Steve answered Clint’s question.

You glanced at him, wondering about the strange tone in his voice.

“How long have you guys known Steve? I’m sorry if I’m prying, its just Steve only had about two friends back in New York, so I’m glad to know more of you exist,” you chuckled.

“Y/N,” Steve whispered with a groan.

“What?” you quietly whined, slightly hitting his chest.

Sam and Clint joined in on your laughter, and Sam stuck his hands in his pockets.

“Oh, we go way back with Steve. Don’t worry about him, sweetheart, Steve has plenty of friends around here,” he answered.

Your eyes widened, a noise of appreciation escaping your lips.

“That’s…wonderful!” you said, clapping your hands together. “I’d invite you guys in, but the house is scary looking, right now.”

You turned towards Steve.

“Maybe when we make it presentable, we can invite your-.”

“Y/N, they all have their own lives, now, and they’ve seen the house a million times…”

You studied him, eyebrows furrowed. There was something off about his tone, and you decided to take the hint. You turned back to the men in front of you with a smile.

“I guess we’ll just have to play it by ear. I’m going to go finish unpacking, but it was nice meeting you!”

Their response mirrored yours as you turned to go back inside, brushing your hand over Steve’s shoulder.

“I’ll be right in,” he quietly said, hand grazing your waist.

You glanced over your shoulder as you walked up the steps. Sam was talking to Steve, but Clint’s bright eyes were focused on you. You turned back with a slight grimace and headed towards the waiting boxes.

 ~

Your nails trailed down Steve’s back, running over the ridges and feeling the way his muscles moved as he thrust into you. His hard chest was pressed against yours, your legs locked around his waist, head thrown back into the pillow. His soft lips never parted from you, and he’d told you once that enjoyed being inside of you with the taste of your skin on his tongue.

“Steve,” you moaned, one of your hands sliding upwards to tangle in his hair.

He groaned against you, skin slapping against yours in the quiet room. His hands were digging into your hips, holding them to the bed as he had his way with you. You were sure to be aching there tomorrow, but you didn’t mind. It was always worth the pain. You arched your chest into him, lips brushing against his.

You whined when he pulled away, and he only chuckled in response. He loved to do that, tease you, and you loved him for it. You tried to kiss him again, but he only pulled back some more, and because his hands were pinning your hips to the bed, you could only lean up so much.

“Steve,” you begged.

“I love that sound,” he murmured. “You beg so pretty for me, but I know you can do better than that.”

“Wanna kiss you,” you whispered, eyes fluttering at a particularly hard thrust.

You dug your nails into his skin, a choked moan leaving your lips.

“Oh, you can do better than that,” he purred.

His blue eyes sparkled with mischief, determination to see you beg outweighing his desire to put his lips on yours.

“Steve, please,” you whined.

“Mm, only good girls get rewards…and you have been so good for me, haven’t you?”

He covered your mouth with his own, and you both groaned into the kiss. You were drenched, positive you were making a mess of the new sheets already, but you didn’t care. Steve’s hard length felt heavenly inside of you, and once again, you were struck with the fact that this man was yours forever. As if he heard your thoughts, Steve spoke.

“Tell me you’re mine,” he mumbled against your lips.

“I’m yours, Steve. Forever,” you gasped, clenching around him.

He hissed into your mouth.

“Say that again…”

“I’m yours,” you panted.

His hips stuttered, and your climax hit you just as he emptied himself inside of you with a low moan. Your body trembled, and he pulled you against him as he turned to lay on his side. His softening cock was still inside of you, and a lazy smile fell over your lips, sure that he’d be pinning you to the bed again as soon as you woke up in the morning.

You reached up to brush your fingers along his face, tracing his jaw, and he hummed. His eyes fell closed, fingers drawing circles into your back. You suddenly remembered something, and you paused in your ministrations.

“Steve…”

“Hmm?”

“Are you ashamed of your friends?”

His eyes flew open, studying you. You blinked.

“…or…maybe me?”

He pushed himself up to lean on his elbow, looking down at you with a frown.

“Why would you say that?”

You shrugged.

“It just seemed like you didn’t want me around your friends, is all,” you explained.

He sighed, briefly closing his eyes before shaking his head.

“No, no, sweetheart. I didn’t want them around you.”

“Why? They’re your friends, aren’t they?”

He fell back onto his back, exhaling as he stared at the ceiling.

“There was a time when they were my friends, yes, but not anymore…”

You waited for him to continue.

“I was a different guy then, Y/N…much different. We’re talking late high school early college years. I was caught up in stuff that makes me ashamed to even touch you-.”

“Steve,” you admonished, frowning.

He looked up at you as you leaned over him, reaching up to brush a finger along your neck.

“I’ve spent years trying to be the guy who would deserve a woman like you, and ever since I met you, I’ve been trying to make up for the fact that I don’t deserve you, because��� God, I don’t deserve you,” he groaned.

“Don’t say that-.”

“It’s true. Those guys…they were content, are content, with their lives, this town…the things they do. I wanted more, so I left. I don’t have much in common with them anymore.”

You traced your fingers along his chest with a sigh.

“I’m sorry. I wish that weren’t the case… After all, they were your friends once,” you replied.

He chuckled, and you cut your eyes to him.

“God, I love you,” he said, reaching out to pull you down.

You laid your head on his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat as sleep wrapped you in its arms.

 ~

“Y/N Rogers!”

You jumped up from your seat, approaching the counter with a grin as the woman bagged your food. You could feel the conversations in the small diner quiet just a bit, and you just accepted that this would be the norm for a while.

It was a small town indeed, and apparently Steve and his family were well known, had been an integral part of this town. You were the newcomer, his wife that he’d returned to town with after so many years of being gone. You were the new face with a load of baggage so to speak. At least, that’s what the girl at the counter had told you when you had placed your order. Wanda was her name.

“Hey, I told you, don’t be so nervous about it. Folks are just curious,” she said, handing you your food.

“I know, I know. I’m just not used to this, at all. I didn’t grow up in a town like this, not even close,” you laughed.

“A city girl,” she guessed with a smile.

“Yeah,” you sheepishly replied.

“Is that how you met Steve? In the city?” she wondered, a slight unfamiliar accent peeking through.

“Yeah! I literally ran into him on the way to a doctor’s appointment one day. The rest was history,” you shrugged.

“How sweet. Are you going to be working here?”

“Yes, actually! I’m a teacher…”

“Oh, I adore kids,” she said, leaning on the counter, intrigued.

“Me too. I hope to have some of my own one day, but until then, I’m going to be teaching at the elementary school,” you told her.

“You’ll love it. The children here are darling. The adults on the other hand…,” she trailed off with a slight chuckle, and you joined her. “You’ll do great there though.”

“Thanks. Are you friends with Steve?” you suddenly asked.

She sadly shook her head.

“No. My brother and I moved here about 4 months before Steve left town all those years ago. I didn’t really speak with him much, but my brother did. They were in the…the same club together,” she stuttered over her words, straightening as she grabbed the rag.

You watched her demeanor change as she wiped the counter, and you wondered why.

“Oh, okay. Well, it was nice meeting you, Wanda. Hopefully, I’ll see you around.”

“You too,” her words were soft, cautious, and you frowned.

You waved her goodbye as you took your food, making your way out of the restaurant. Relief flowed through you as the weight of prying eyes lifted. It was getting late, the sun starting to set, and you hurried to get to your car to get home. It was why you had gotten takeout. The day had slipped you by, and you wouldn’t have time to cook anything.

You were walking and reaching for your keys, one hand occupied with the food while the other dug into your purse. Your foot stumbled over a broken parking bumper. Your shoe caught against the pavement, and you cursed when the food slipped out of your hand. You weren’t going to catch it in time, but that didn’t stop you from trying. However, another hand beat you to it.

You stumbled back in shock, straightening up as you faced the stranger. You glanced down at your food, reaching out for it with a small ‘thank you’ on your lips when your savior pulled his hand back. You frowned, cutting your eyes up to gaze at the person in question. You blinked at the unfamiliar face.

He looked to be the same height as Steve, and just as muscular. Maybe a bit bulkier now that you looked again. Unlike Steve though, his dark hair was lengthy, the ends of his locks brushing the tops of his shoulders. His facial hair was light, like he was in the process of growing it out fully. He sported a similar leather jacket to the one Sam and Clint had worn at your house, and it was accompanied by equally dark jeans and a shirt and boots to match.

His blue eyes, so much like Steve’s, were focused on you. They were heavy and piercing, and you cleared your throat, reaching out for your bag.

“Thank you,” you said.

Again, he pulled it out of your reach, and apprehension filled you.

“You’re new here,” he noted in a deep, husky voice.

You swallowed, nodding.

“I just moved here with my husband a few days ago. Can I have that back, please?”

He ignored your request, instead raking his eyes over you. He hummed when his eyes landed on your ring, and it didn’t sound like an approving sound.

“Husband… What’s your name, sweetheart?”

You frowned at the term of endearment but bit your tongue. If living in the city had taught you anything, it was to pick your battles with strange men wisely.

“Y/N,” you quietly replied.

He didn’t respond right away, instead taking you in. You shuffled on your feet, glancing at the darkening sky before looking around. You noticed a large bike parked not too far away, and you assumed it was his. There seemed to be quite a few bikers in this town. When you met his eyes again, there was a faint smirk on his pink lips.

The bag that held your food gestured to the dark grey car parked beside him.

“This your car?”

You nodded, slowly following as he rounded it, eyes observing the tag.

“New York,” he said with a whistle. “That’s a long way to travel….”

“My husband is from here. We wanted to move back to his hometown,” you explained, nervousness growing. “Can I please-?”

You were cut off by his soft chuckle, his smirk growing, now as he eyed you. If possible, you would have sworn that his eyes had gotten darker, amusement taking residence there.

“Mrs. Rogers, I presume?”

You didn’t respond because you didn’t feel the need to. It seemed that he already knew. With another chuckle, he finally handed your food back to you, his fingers grazing your hand as he did so. He was close, so close that you could smell whatever shampoo he had used that morning.

You took a step back, hitting the side of your car as he reached out. His hand was pressed to the door, caging you in as you eyed him, heart racing. He looked over you one final time before opening your driver’s door, and with a start, you realized that you must have left it unlocked. He licked his lips as he held the door open for you, and you hurriedly slipped inside.

His grip was tight, preventing you from closing it, and you started to reach for your cell phone when he spoke.

“Tell Steve his old friend Bucky said hello. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?” he asked, leaning his body on the open door, head peaking out over the top.

You nodded, and the corner of his mouth lifted.

“You drive safe…Mrs. Rogers.”

He closed your door, and you stared after him with wide eyes before shaking your head. With trembling hands, you buckled your seatbelt and started the car, rushing to get home.

 ~

tags: @mcudarklibrary​ @xoxabs88xox​ @darkficreposter​ @sebabestianstan101​ @sherrybaby14​ @kellyn1604​ @villanellevi​ @readermia​ @katwayne​ @chamberofsloths​ @eqhorics​ @leniaana​  @jtargaryen18​ @notyourtypicalrose​

[joannaliceevans-fanficblog]

Swell

Was in the mood for some Dark Steve. So, here is it! 

Warnings: Mentions of forced pregnacy, breeding and Mind control. 

**

You laid on your back, arms above you. Your wrists were tied to the bed post. Your legs spread, and Steve was between you. His fingers grazed along your stomach, making you jolt at his touch. Tracing the outlines of your belly. His cock, was poking through his briefs and he slid them down. 

“Sweetheart, it’s time.” Steve said to you. You looked to the side, not wanting to see his face. 

     What got you here, was something, you wished you didn’t agree on. You were an intern at the compound, a college student, with debt and two months behind your apartment rent. Luckily your tennant, knows you are struggling and but you some slack. That day, was when you met Steve Rogers. America’s Captain, everyones super hero. Or so they think. 

    You were outside, eating your carrots and ranch, because that’s what you could afford. You heard heavy footsteps and you looked up, to see Steve walking towrads you. He had a smile on his face and he took a seat in front of you. 

“What’s a pretty girl, doing out here alone?” He asked you. You looked at him and took a bit of your carrot sticks. 

“I needed some air.” You told him. It was quiet for a moment, until he leaned forward towards you. You stopped chewing and looked at him. 

“You know, I’ve been seeing you eat carrots every day. I assume your a struggling student?” Steve asked you. You looked at him again, and placed the carrot down into the container. 

“How did you know?” You asked. Steve shrugged, “It was a wild guess.” 

    It turns out, that he was spying on you or more of stalking you. Ever since, you started working at the Starks lab, four months ago. steve gave you a propsal, in which you can live in his town house, in Brooklyn. Pay for the rest of the rent that you had behind, and also your school tuition. 

   You didn’t want it at first, because your hard headed, and you wanted to do things on your own. You wanted to be that struggling student, and succeed in the end. But you quickly found out, that it wasn’t going to be easy.  Your money was going run out because, the little side job at the restaurant you worked at, went out of business. 

   When you told Steve, that you would accept it? He was happy. But when you got to his place, things took a turn for the worst. It wasn’t like he described at all. Steve forced you to sign a contract.  A contract to be his only one, to be his wife and to serve him only. Since, he’s America’s Golden Boy, and if she runs to the police? No one will believe you. You had no family, your mother is non existant. So, you sign the contract. The only thing, he kept true to his word, was he paid all of the expense to your rent and your school. 

And you never went back to school. 

 **

“It didn’t work last time sweetheart, so we need to try again.” Steve told you, running his hand along your stomach. Again, you didn’t say anything. 

Slap

You yelp, and burn from the slap stung. Steve then grabbed you by your jaw and he bend down over you. 

“Listen, you little slut. I own you, I own your body and your soul. Better obey, or I will make you regret it. Got it?!” He said, glaring at your face. The pressure on your jaw, started to hurt and you nodded slowly. Steve smiled and placed a kiss on your lips. You wanted to bit him, but last time that happed, he threw you in the basement downstairs and left you there for days. 

You felt your legs being lifted and he forced his way into you. You screamed, as you felt the stretch. The burning and the pain. He hit your cervix and started to thrust into you. With each thrust he put into you, you cried out in pain. You never will get used to his thick, veiny length. 

    His hips slapped against yours, and his hand remained at your belly, 

“Your going swell so nicely sweetheart. I’ll make sure, that your stomach is always swollen.” Steve said and place a hard push into you, and dumped his seed into you. Hot ribbons of his cum , coated every sides of your walls and your uterus. Steve gave a few more thrust and left you some added extras.

Steve kept himself inside of you making sure all the little swimmers made its way inside of you. He then pulled out, and kissed your stomach. 

“Such a good slut.”

@denisemarieangelina @jtargaryen18 @patzammit @icanfeelastormbrewing @what-is-your-plan-today @official-and-unstable-satan @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @kelbabyblue @kellymat @star-spangled-beard-burn @shikin83 @americasass91 @kawairinrin @shellbilee @princessofdarkwinter @charmed-asylum

[mskinkykitty]

Dark!Steve x Reader/OC

Because, I love me a good, dark fic, I’ve been a little addicted to writing them. I’m rather proud of this one, and I’m not sure how long it’s going to be, but a few chapters, at least. Also, if there are any suggestions for a title, I would LOVE to hear them, because, as of now, I’ve got nothing! 

This fic, was also inspired by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor​ and all her amazing stories! Thank you for the inspiration!!

This is an 18+ Dark!Fic, please do not read, if any of the following warnings offend you.

Warnings: Rape, drugs, non-con, oral (f/r), vaginal sex, stalking, obsessive behavior, possessive feelings, voyeurism, masturbation, somnophilia,  smut,  sex, please let me know if I missed any, I’m still fairly new to sharing dark fics, and want to make sure, I have the proper warnings for those who might not want to read.

Word count: 7766

Summary: Steve has been watching her for years, waiting for the right time to approach her. So, when he runs into on his way to a meeting with Tony, imagine how surprised he is, when he finds out, she’s been working there for almost an entire year! He also realized, it was the perfect chance for him to get closer to her.

Steve had been watching her for years. He'd first seen her a few months after waking up from the ice. She'd been dog walking in a local park, six dogs and none of them small. He watched her, thinking she might need help, but she never did. He followed her from a safe distance, not wanting her to see him, and watched her return all the dogs to their respective owners. She was a dog walker and that made Steve smile.

He continued to see her around the city, but she never seemed to notice him, always wrapped up in her own business. She eventually started showing up at Stark Tower every day. He found out she'd been hired to work in the mail room, after he saw her pushing around a mail cart and delivering a few things to Tony.

“Hey Mr. Stark, mail's here!”

It was the first time he'd ever heard her speak and it set something inside him on fire.

“Remember, I don't accept things that are handed to me.” he said, when she entered the office.

“Then I guess it's a good thing I'm tossing them to you.” She winked, then threw the small box at Tony, which he caught. She quickly became one of the few people Tony would accept things from.

Steve couldn't help his curiosity and approached the door, well, he did have a meeting with Tony, so it wasn't out of place for him to be there. She smiled at him when he knocked and entered the office.

“Hope I'm not interrupting.” He smiled.

“Hey Steve, take a seat, I'll be with you in just a minute.”

“Hey, Mr. Rogers.” She smiled at him, as he entered the room.

Steve was surprised she knew who he was, as far as he knew, she'd never seen him before. Steve returned her smile and walked past her to sit in one of the chairs opposite Tony's desk.

“Mr. Stark, when are you going to start making him wear those sweaters? You promised!” It was almost a whine.

Tony looked at Steve, then back at the, still, unnamed girl, and smirked.

“Sorry, kid, I kinda forgot. New rule, Cap, you're not allowed to enter the building, unless you're dressed like the original Mr. Rogers.”

“But I am the original Mr. Rogers.” he looked to the girl when she tried to stifle her laugh.

“See ya tomorrow, Mr. Stark. Later, Mr. Rogers.” she said with a wink and a two fingered salute and Steve couldn't help but blush.

His heart was racing and his mind was reeling. It was their first interaction! She knew who he was and treated him just like she treated Tony! But, she didn't wink at Tony, she only winked at him. Steve had known she was friendly, but thought she would shy away if he ever had the chance to talk to her. Though, he would have loved to see her shy away with a huge blush across her face, he rather liked that she wasn't to intimidated to treat him like a regular person.

“Oh, wait a minute, kid.” Tony said, running over to her, with something in his hand.

Steve couldn't hear what was said, but watched as she took the small box from Tony and gave him a thumbs up. Steve wasn't aware that he glared at Tony when he ruffled her hair and gave her a pat on the back. The girl just rolled her eyes, gave Tony a playful push, then with one hand on the cart and the other trying to fix her hair, she continued on her way.

“New mail girl?” Steve couldn't help but ask.

“Not really, she's been here for almost a full year, but, best delivery girl I ever hired.” Tony smiled, walking back to his desk and sitting behind it.

“I've never seen her before.”

“She usually makes her deliveries earlier, a few of the mail room workers called in today, so she had to help sort everything before she could star her deliveries. And I meant what I said, you won't be allowed to enter the building until you start dressing like Mr. Rogers.”

Steve looked at his clothes, then back at Tony, still not understanding how he wasn't dressed like himself.

“Google it later, Rogers.” Tony said, before they started to discuss the Avengers Initiative.

*  *  *

Steve continued to make it a point to be at the tower as often as he could, just so he could run into the girl. He started using the gym Tony had, saying it had better equipment than the gym he was using, and he didn't feel as bad when he destroyed Tony's punching bags. He began to learn her routine and made it a point to run into her a few times a week at varying times, he didn't want to make it obvious he was running into her on purpose.

Then, the attack on New York happened. She'd been in the building when Loki arrived. Tony had hired her to house sit, when he and Pepper weren't around, she was watering Tony's plants when Loki found her.

“Who the hell are you?” she asked when Loki entered the room.

“You're new God.” He smirked.

“Ok, yea, whatever.” she snarked, going back to her duties.

Loki didn't like being ignored, couldn't believe the audacity of this mortal to do just that.

“You will bow before your new God and ruler, mortal.” he smirked, as he stood there and stared at her, but quickly frowned when she continued to ignore him. “You dare to ignore me!”

“Uh, clearly.” she said, walking over to another of Tony's house plants.

“You clearly have no idea of the danger you're in, little mortal.” he gave a dark chuckle as he walked over to her.

“No dude, you clearly have no idea of the danger, you're in.” she turned to look at him, a smirk playing at her lips. “You do know who's house you just walked into, right?”

“Of course I do.” he said, in a nonchalant tone, “That's why I'm here.”

“Then, you have to know he'll be here any minute to lay the smack down on you.” she turned her attention back to the plants in front of her.

“I'm counting on it.” Loki's smile grew more predatory the closer he got to her.

“Didn't really peg you as the masochistic type, figure you'd be more into the giving, than the receiving.” She was teasing him.

“I guess it depends on whose doing the giving. I'd be more than happy to to take anything you'd give.” he whispered in her ear as he gently placed his hands on her shoulders, and let them ghost down her arms.

He nuzzled his nose into her hair and grinned when he felt her stiffen under his touch. He'd used his magic to immobilize her. He felt her heart rate increase, when he brushed her hair away from her neck and lightly placed a kiss behind her ear.

“It was so very kind of Tony to leave such a tantalizing gift to occupy my time, while I wait for him. Though, he could have done a better job with the gift wrapping.” Loki was once again whispering in her ear. He could feel her fear and he loved it. The thoughts of what she thought he would do to her were tempting to act on, but that's not the kind of person he really was. He preferred a willing partner, though he wasn't above using such fear tactics. He let his magic alter her attire, into something a little more pleasing to him. He was tempted to put her in something skimpy and revealing, but, preferred something tasteful. He let his magic put her in a sleek, form fitting, long sleeved, emerald green dress, with gold embellishments. There was a slit in the fluid-like skirt, that went all the way to her hip, the back was open and cut so low, he could see the Norse snake tattoo on her lower back and he smiled.

“Interesting tattoo.” he said, letting his fingers gently run across it. “Already a worshiper of your new god.”

“It's a representation of my ancestry, asshole.” she growled.

“Oh? You're of Norse decent then?” he actually sounded interested.

“What of it?” she hissed, and he could feel her struggle against his magic.

“Your ancestors used to worship Asgardians as their Gods. Perhaps, as a reward for your family's loyalty, I will make you my personal slave, once I've conquered this miserable planet. Let you indulge me in my masochistic ways.” he was once again purring in her ear.

“Go fuck yourself.” she snapped.

“Now, now, pet, is that anyway to talk to your master?” he smiled, turning her around, so she was now facing him. “Perhaps collaring you, would take out some of that bite.” Loki smiled as a black and gold trimmed collar appeared on her neck.

He placed his hand on the tattoo on her lower back and she felt a warm sensation flow through her entire body.

“That's so I will be able to find you, should you ever try to run away.” The tears in her eyes, brought him a sadistic kind of joy. “No need to cry, pet. Well, not yet at least.” He let his nose run up her neck and into her hairline, making a point to inhale loud enough for her to hear.

Loki found that he was enjoying tormenting the snarky mortal, much more than he anticipated.

“I will make your life a living hell,” she spat. “and I would suggest sleeping with one eye open, or you may just wake up with a dagger in your chest.”

“Promises, promises.” he said, running his hand, softly up her spine, feeling the goosebumps form as he went and he gave a hum of approval.

“How arrogant are you, that you actually think you'll win against the Avengers? You're one delusional, asshole against a team of superheroes.” Loki was really enjoying her fight, and would have to make sure he didn't break her too quickly, or possibly, at all.

“Not for long. Would you like to be the first to see the door open?” he asked, pulling back, to grin at her.

“What door?” she asked, furrowing her brows.

“The door that will let the rest of my army in. The Chitauri, a race of warriors that will destroy your precious Avengers. Disgusting creatures, but necessary.”

“You're really fucked up!”

“Quite the mouth on you, too. I think I know just how to put a stop to that.” He gave her a lascivious grin, when she paled, then crashed his lips to hers.

He hadn't planned on kissing her, but he'd seen Tony land on the platform outside, greeted by one of Loki's doubles. As Tony entered the room, the illusion vanished. Loki released his magical hold on the mortal, letting her resist him. Loki let her push him away, then turned his attention to Tony, keeping his arms wrapped around the girl.

“My thanks for the delicious, welcoming gift, Stark.” Loki flashed a malicious smile to Tony.

“Get your hands off of her, Loki.” Tony growled and much to his surprise, Loki released her and she ran to Tony, who welcomed her with a hug.

“You alright, Jade?” He asked.

“Yea, I'm fine. Thanks.” she smiled

“A lovely name for my little pet.” Loki grinned.

“I'm not your pet, dickwad!” Jade hissed, turning to glare at Loki.

“How adorable, just like a kitten when it discovers it has claws.” Loki cooed.

He laughed and ducked when she threw one of Tony's lamps at him. Yes, he would definitely enjoy tormenting her, once he'd finished conquering the planet.

Sadly, for Loki, that wasn't going to happen, after being knocked out by the Hulk, he woke up to the Avengers surrounding him and one of Hawkeye's arrows in his face. Once he was restrained, Jade was allowed to enter the room, still in the dress he'd magicked her in. He sensed something dark coming from one of the Avengers, but it was too faint to tell which. Curious to find out who it was, he couldn't resist teasing the young woman.

“I told you, you wouldn't win.” Loki admired the proud tone in her voice, though she was mortal, he still liked her, she would have made for a very entertaining pet.

“Yes, you did, my pet, but don't worry, I'll be back for you. Remember, I'll always be able to find you.” He smirked, when she squeaked at the tickling sensation that flowed through her from her tattoo.

Loki felt that dark desire grow faintly stronger, still not enough to tell who it was.

“What is that?” Tony said, looking at Jade's lower back.

“Your tattoo is glowing.” Natasha said, walking over to get a closer look.

“Did he put this on you?” Thor asked, looking at the glowing tattoo before turning to glare at his brother.

“No, I've had it for a while, he just did something to it, said it was so he could always find me.”

“You put a claim on her?” Thor's tone was disgusted.

“How else does one find their lost pet?” Loki was having way too much fun, then he felt it. That dark desire had grown strong enough and Loki turned to see the captain glaring daggers at him. Loki just flashed him a taunting smile and winked.

“Remove it from her. Now!” Steve said in such a dark tone, as he grabbed the front of Loki's shirt and pulled him close. If Loki had been a mortal, it might actually have scared him.

“I can't. Ownership claims are impossible to remove, once they've set. I'm afraid she's marked as mine for the rest of her life.”

“Is that true, Thor?” Tony asked.

“I'm afraid it is. No matter where she is, he will always be able to find her.” Thor sighed, before turning to address Jade. “Fear not, young mortal, Loki will be imprisoned on Asgard for a very long time. He won't be able to do anything to you.”

“What if I have the tattoo removed? Will that remove the spell, or whatever it is?” she asked, giving Thor a hopeful look, Loki just laughed.

“The claim flows through your blood, and is bound to every fiber of your being, impossible to remove. You are bound to me.” Loki almost purred, keeping his eyes focused on Steve. He could feel the dark possessive, desire flowing through the man. Loki wished he had time to taunt him more, find the root of this little bit of darkness that flows through the righteous, super soldier. The Captain didn't seem to have any kind of relationship, or friendship with the young woman, for that matter. The object of his desire didn't seem to even register that Steve was in the room. She remained close to Tony. When all eyes, but Steve's, shifted back to Jade, Loki took the chance to lean in and whisper in Steve's ear.

“Tell me, Captain, does it burn you to know that I claimed her first? Had my hands on her before you? Tasted those delicate lips? I just wish I had been able to taste more of her.”

That's when Loki realized how intense Steve's desire was, how far he was willing to go to posses the woman. Steve's infatuation with her was bordering obsessive and not in a healthy way. He should probably say something to Thor about it. All this ran through Loki's mind, just as Steve landed a jaw, shattering punch.

“She will never be yours.” Steve hissed in Loki's ear, just as he lost consciousness.

“What did you do that for, Rogers?” Tony asked, running over, after seeing Steve punch Loki.

“Sorry. I let the things he was saying get to me.” Steve said, releasing his grip on Loki and letting him fall to the floor.

“About what?” Clint asked.

Steve blushed when his eyes quickly looked to Jade, who was smiling and talking to Hulk as if nothing had happened, then back to Loki. Clint and Natasha followed where is eyes went, then gave each other a knowing glance. Thor hadn't missed where Steve had looked, either, and scowled at his unconscious brother.

“I'm sorry, Captain, my brother has a way of getting under people's skin. Do not put any truth behind his words, if he had truly hurt her, she wouldn't be smiling right now.” Thor said, placing his hand on Steve's shoulder.

“Yea, I know. I'm sorry, Thor.” Steve said, doing his best to look ashamed, even though he wasn't.

“There is no need to apologize. Loki, no doubt deserved it.”

The group's huddle over Loki was disturbed when they heard laughter coming from Jade. They looked to see a smiling Hulk, twirling her around, making the skirt of her dress flare out.

“Holy shit!” she yelled, still holding Hulk's hand, as he began to transform back into Bruce Banner.

Jade caught him when he fell forward after the transformation was finished. He was panting and holding on to her for support.

“Are you alright, Dr. Banner?” she asked, her arms wrapped around him, struggling to hold him up, since he was quite a few inches taller than her, and heavier than he looked.

“I'm fine, thank you, Jade.” He smiled at her as he stood up.

“Um, your pants.” she said, her face, bright red as she looked up at the ceiling, pretending to find something interesting up there.

“Hm, oh! Right, sorry!” he said, quickly pulling his pants up, the blush on his face, matching hers.

“It happens and I didn't see anything, but, you can still apologize properly, by taking me out for coffee sometime.” Her smile turning bashful as she avoided looking at him. Bruce returned her bashful smile, as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck, keeping a tight grip on his now, oversized pants.

“Yea, um, ok, I can do that.” he replied nervously.

Steve watched the two interacting and felt his blood begin to boil. Jade was supposed to be his. He had seen her first, he'd seen her before the Avengers were even a proper team. She'd smiled at him and teased him about dressing like Mr. Rogers, which he happily obliged. The nervous, bashful look she was giving Bruce, was supposed to be the way she looked at him. She was getting to close with the other team members and he didn't like it.

Loki never did get a chance to say something to Thor about the Captain's dark infatuation.

*  *  *

Steve's infatuation was slowly becoming an obsession after the attack on New York. Their “run-ins” became more frequent, and not just inside the tower, he began to “accidentally” run into her outside the tower as well. He waited an entire year after the New York incident, before he moved into her apartment complex. He'd been living there for almost six months, before he let her see him getting his mail.

“Mr. Rogers? What are you doing here?” she asked, clearly surprised to see him.

“Oh, hey, Jade.” He gave her a look of surprise, locking his mailbox back up. “I live in the building, fourth floor, what are you doing here?”

“I live up on the third floor.” she smiled, checking her own mailbox.“I didn't know you'd moved.” Of course, Steve already knew where she lived, he'd waited for the apartment right above her's to become available.

“Yea, my building was destroyed during the attack, so I moved into the tower until I could find somewhere decent.” he watched her lock her mailbox and flip through her mail.

“When did you move in?” she asked, looking up at him after throwing a few pieces of junk in the recycling.

“About six months ago, I think,” He said, as they began to walk to the elevator.

“What!” she exclaimed with a laugh. “And we're just now running into each other?”

“Busy schedule, you know.” he said, doing his best to give her a bashful smile, as he pushed the elevator call button.

“Right, duh!” she laughed, playfully hitting the heal of her hand to her forehead. “How do you like the neighborhood?”

“It's nice, quiet, there's a park not too far from here that I like to visit for my morning runs.” It was the park where he'd seen her for the very first time.

“Yea, that's a great park. I help out a friend with his dog walking business a couple days a week, and walk the dogs there. You must get up at the butt crack of dawn, because I've never seen you there.” she said, walking into the elevator after the doors had opened.

“Yea, I get up pretty early. If you'd ever like some company, walking the dogs, I'd be happy to join you.” Steve offered, still trying his best to sound bashful and shy. He'd been watching her too long, cultivating a persona around her, to mess this up now.

“Thanks. Bruce joins me sometimes, too, but, if you don't mind throwing your schedule off balance, you're welcome anytime.” Steve had to fight the anger he felt, when she mentioned Bruce, especially, since they seemed to be on a first name basis now. She didn't even call him by his first name, no matter how many times he asked.

Even though, she and Bruce were only friends, he couldn't stop the jealous feeling he got every time they were together. He knew Bruce didn't want anything other than a friendship with her, he'd already asked. Bruce told Steve that he and Jade had talked about it, and agreed, friendship was the best thing for them. Bruce hadn't wanted to lead her on or give her the wrong impression, and she'd been perfectly ok with that. She admitted to Bruce that she only wanted to get to know him, she'd read about some of his work, and a few other things he'd published and just wanted to talk science with him. She'd told Bruce that she loved science, but was never very good at it and had a hard time understanding it. Steve was glad that their relationship had stayed purely platonic, as they continued to get close. On occasion, Bruce would even let her stay late to help him in the lab.

“Just let me know when and where.” Steve smiled, though it felt forced and he knew it came off that way. Not wanting to draw more attention to it, he cleared his throat and asked, “So, when are you going to stop calling me Mr. Rogers and start calling me Steve?” She laughed.

“Well, now that you're my neighbor, probably never. I can't wait to tell everyone that I have a neighbor named Mr. Rogers! That's like, the best thing ever!” Steve's heart fell a little, with her answer, which she noticed.

“Come on, Steve,” Steve's heart fluttered when she said his name, and he actually had a genuine blush. “being called Mr. Rogers is a good thing. Hasn't Mr. Stark explained it to you, yet?” she chuckled and Steve shook his head.

“Come on, I'll explain it to you over a cup of hot chocolate.” She said, exiting the elevator when the doors opened to the third floor.

It wasn't the first time Steve had been in her apartment, though he had to pretend it was. He'd stolen her keys out of her bag, had a copy made, then replaced them before she ever knew. He'd managed to get his hands on some of Tony's micro camera's and installed them all over her apartment. There was one in every corner, ensuring that he'd be able to see her from every angle, the only thing he couldn't see, was the toilet, deciding to allow her that little bit of privacy, but he saw her every time she showered. Saw everything she did in her bedroom. Saw what she ate, when she slept, what she slept in. It was just like living with her and she didn't suspect a thing. He'd even managed to tap into her phone, so he could hear every conversation she had and she always had a tracker on her, just in case anything ever happened to her.

Entering her apartment, he began to look around, he made it look like he was taking everything in, but he was really checking his cameras, making sure they were still well hidden. He was thrilled when he found out they had microphones already built in. He still hid a few extra in her bedroom, especially after the first time he watched her pleasure herself. The cameras just didn't pick up enough of the sounds and he wanted to hear her. He'd even snuck in a few times when she showered at night, stood in the dark hall, to make sure she wouldn't hear him. He loved being able to see her so close through the clear shower doors, it was so much better than watching her on the monitors. Of course, he'd always leave before she was finished.

He was pulled from his lusty thoughts when she said something to him, which he was glad for, since his pants were starting to grow uncomfortably tight.

“I'm sorry, what?” he asked, looking over his shoulder, he couldn't risk turning around, and letting her see how excited he'd gotten.

“I said, you could have a seat on the couch, if you want. I've got to let the water boil and grab my laptop. I still can't believe Tony hasn't explained the whole Mr. Rogers thing, well, thinking about it, I guess I can. He can be such an ass sometimes.” she said, shaking her head as she filled the tea kettle with water and placed it on a burner, then turned it to high.

Steve took the opportunity while her back was turned, to walk over to the counter, that separated the kitchen and living room and sit at one of the bar stools. She smiled at him when she turned around and placed two mugs in front of him, then grabbed the scissors and opened up two hot chocolate packets, then leaned over and grabbed something from under the counter. He quirked an eyebrow at her when he saw her place a bottle of butterscotch schnapps down.

“Don't mock it until you've tried it. Trust me, it only makes it taste better.” she scolded, pointing a finger at him. He just leaned back and held his hands up in mock surrender.

Before she could say anything else, the tea kettle had started to whistle, indicating it was now boiling. She spun on her heel, her hair flaring out behind her, sending the sent of her shampoo in Steve's direction. He inhaled deeply, he loved the way she smelled. He watched her fill the mugs halfway up with the boiling water, added a little bit of milk to each, then stir them, blending the powder and liquid. Once it was mixed, she added the schnapps to one cup, tasted it, added a little more, tasted it again, and smiled.

“Here, try it. If you don't like it, I won't add any to yours.” She handed the cup to Steve, who took it, and turned it around when she went to place the kettle back on the stove, drinking from the same spot she had.

“So, what do you think?” she asked, turning back around.

“You're right, it does make it better.” He chuckled, handing the mug back to her.

“Told you, is it strong enough, or do you want more in yours?” she asked, grabbing the bottle, waiting to pour it into his mug.

“The same amount is fine.” he said, watching her pour the liquid, stir, use the spoon to taste, add a little more, rinsed the spoon before giving it another stir, and sipping from the spoon one last time.

“Perfect.” she smiled, handing him the cup. He was a little disappointed she didn't drink from it, like she did hers. “I'll be right back, I've gotta use the bathroom, then grab my laptop and then I can explain the whole Mr. Rogers thing to you.” she said, pushing her cup next to Steve, since she'd be sitting next to him at the counter.

He watched her run to the bathroom room first, made sure he heard the door click, then pulled out his wallet and removed a small envelope from inside. He quickly dumped all the contents into her cup. He heard the toilet flush, then the sink and shoved the empty envelope back into his wallet, which he put in the back pocket of his jeans. He listened for the bathroom door to open, then heard her walk into her room. He leaned over and mixed the powder he just dumped in, with her cocoa, grabbing his own mug, when he heard her coming back.

He sipped from his cup and watched her set up her lap top.

“So, Mr. Rogers was a kids show that used to air on PBS back in the day, they might still air it, but I'm not entirely sure. He was a war vet and a pastor. He didn't like the programs that were available for kids at the time, so he created his own.” she said, filling him in while she waited for the lap top to boot up.

“He started out on public access in his own town, then went to PBS. He even went up against congress or the senate, whoever, when they wanted to cut funding, his speech was pretty impressive. Needless to say, he changed their minds, and I think they increased the funding, I could be wrong, but, the important thing is, they didn't cut it and he got to continue doing his show. The rumor was, he wore the long sleeves to cover his tattoos. His mom knitted all the sweaters he wore on the show.” she continued, typing in the name.

“You must have really liked the show when you were a kid.” he chuckled as he watched her take a drink from her mug.

“Not really, I only really watched it when I was too sick to go to school. He's just, kind of become a pop culture icon, like Bob Ross.” she took another swallow from her mug.

“Now there's a name I recognize. That's the guy with all those painting tutorials.” Steve smiled.

“I'm glad to see you're not completely in the dark about pop culture.” another sip. “Mm, here's a good picture.” she said, clicking a photo of a clean cut, gray haired man, with a kind smile, wearing a sweater over his collared shirt.

“That, is Mr. Rogers.” she gave him a big smile, pointing at the photo of the man.

“Did you think I looked like him?” he asked, giving the photo a skeptical look, not seeing a resemblance. He watched her take another drink of her cocoa.

“No, not at all. It was mostly the name, Fred Rogers,” she said, pointing to the photo, “Steve Rogers.” she smiled pointing back at him.

“Plus, you both are pretty wholesome figures. Always going on about doing the right thing and standing up to bullies. That kind of stuff. Here, let me see if I can find a video for you to watch.”

Steve took a large drink of his cocoa, and watched her pull up YouTube and do a video search. She clicked on one she liked, and they watched it together. Steve watched out of the corner of his eye as she continued to sip her cocoa. Once the video was over, he'd already finished his and watched her swallow the last of hers.

“All right, I see what you mean.” He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. He smiled when she yawned.

“That's two things I was right about.” she smirked, standing and stretching.

“You don't need to rub it in.” he said, standing up as well. “I should get home, I've got a few things to go over before it gets too much later.”

“Alright, and hey, you're welcome to stop by for alcohol infused cocoa anytime. It's like a nice, warm hug for your insides.” she said, walking him to the front door, Steve saw, what he thought was an invitation, and took it.

“That's something I haven't had in a long time.” He clarified when he saw her confusion. “A nice, warm hug.”

“Well, that's just not right.” she said, opening her arms wide, waiting to give him a hug. “Come on, Mr. Rogers, you're making me feel like a complete dork, standing like this.” she said, when he seemed to hesitate too long.

He just laughed at her and wrapped his arms around her, feeling that familiar twitch in his pants. He held her a little tighter, squeezing her breasts against him. God, he'd waited forever for this, but his patience was finally starting to pay off. He wanted to let his hand wander further and grab her rear, but, he knew they weren't there yet, he just had to wait a little longer. He'd have all of her soon enough.

“Thanks.” he said, when they separated from the hug.

“No one should go without hugs.” she smiled, then grabbed her head as she swayed, slightly.

“Are you ok, Jade?” He asked, voice full of concern.

“Yea, just, really dizzy and light headed, all of a sudden. Maybe I added too much schnapps.”

“Let me help you sit down.” He said, holding one hand in his, the other on the small of her back.

She felt something surge through her when Steve placed his hand on her lower back, right where her tattoo was. It made her feel suddenly uncomfortable, like she needed to get away from him. She ignored it.

“It's ok, I'll be fine. Don't want to keep you any longer.” she said, trying to take a step, but almost falling over.

“Maybe you better lay down. I'll help you to your room, then I'll go. Deal?” He said, helping her walk to her room.

“Yea, that might not be a bad idea, I'm not sure if I'd make it on my own.” she said, her mind starting to feel fuzzy and her vision going blurry.

Her feeling of unease only intensifying the closer they got to her room. She didn't understand what was happening or where these feelings were coming from all of a sudden. But, Steve did just as he said, helped her to her bed, though he did take off her shoes and socks, then he left, locking the door behind him. She didn't even remember falling asleep.

*  *  *

Steve hurried back to his apartment, choosing to take the stairs since it would be faster than waiting for the elevator. Once inside, he rushed to the spare room where he had all his surveillance equipment set up. He focused on the one in her bedroom and sat down. He needed to make sure she was completely out before he went back.

Steve waited an hour and a half, before he went back to her apartment. She hadn't moved the entire time. His heart was beating so fast and so hard. When he felt the stirring of arousal in his pants, he was glad he had changed to his loose fitting lounge pants. He walked back into her room, doing nothing to be quiet about it. He needed to see how effective the drug was, how deep of a sleep it put her in.

“Hey Jade, I wanted to check on you, make sure you were doing ok.” He said, in a flat tone. He then walked over to her and shook her shoulder.

“Jade.”

More shaking and calling her name a little louder.

“Jade!”

He reached down and tickled the bottom of her foot, she didn't even flinch and he smiled.

Steve licked his lips as he sat down next to her, he was finally going to be able to touch her. He wanted to wait, but when she'd invited him in, the temptation was just too great, he couldn't resist any longer. He had to have her.

He let his eyes roam up and down her body a few times, before he reached for the waistband of the leggings she'd been wearing. He groaned when he saw she wore no panties underneath, and she was completely clean shaven. It was like she'd been waiting for him to make his move. He couldn't resist, and he leaned down and place a kiss to her bare lips, inhaling her sweet, musky scent. Before he let himself get too carried away, he sat her up and removed her shirt, then her bra. He stood up and stared at her, completely naked before him. He was practically salivating, he was so hungry for her, and now he could take his time and explore her body, like he'd been dreaming about. His only regret, was that he wouldn't be able to feel her mouth wrap around him.

His breathing got heavier and his pants tighter the longer he stared. Steve moved to the foot of her bed and knelt by her feet. He put his hands on her shins, his thumbs on the inside of her legs, he moved his hands up, spreading her legs open. He let one hand continue its way up, and let his thumb glide between her folds, groaning when he felt how warm and wet she was. He lay down between her legs, with the fingers of his free hand, he spread her lips open.

“God, you're beautiful.” He whispered.

Steve stared for a minute longer, before tasting her with his tongue. She was muskier than he anticipated, but no less perfect. She was a delicacy he would be happy to savor anytime. He let his tongue explore her, using long broad strokes, to quick pointed ones, where he focused on her sensitive bundle of nerves, occasionally latching on to suck on it. He'd let his tongue wander back down and circle the source of where her delicious nectar came from, letting his tongue delve in as deep as it could. His eyes darted to her face, when he heard a small moan escape from her, but she didn't wake, so he continued his exploration. He removed his tongue and let two of his fingers replace it, licking his way back up to suckle her sensitive bud. He was only encouraged when her hips began to undulate and her moaning became more frequent. Steve added another finger and began to thrust faster until her heard a small cry escape her lips and felt her walls pulse around his fingers. He removed his fingers and began to lick her clean, proud that he'd been able to make her cum so easily.

Once he'd cleaned her with his tongue, he began to kiss up her body, stopping to focus on her breasts when he reached them. He eagerly took a nipple in his mouth and began to suck and nip at it, using the hand he wasn't supporting himself with to continue it's ministrations between her legs. He wanted her nice and wet, so she could take him easier.

Hearing her little moans and cries, Steve couldn't wait any longer, he removed his hand from between her legs and released her breast from his mouth. He positioned himself between her legs and just took a moment to stare at her. She was breathing heavy and had a light sheen of sweat to her skin. It made him proud to know he did that to her.

“I've wanted this since the first time I saw you. You were so beautiful, so perfect, I just wish it could have happened sooner. God, I can't believe I finally get to feel you.” Steve whispered, pulling her knees up and letting them fall open.

Steve grabbed his cock and let it slide through her damp folds, covering himself with her slick, then, sliding in and letting her warmth surround him.

“Holy shit, sweetheart!” he panted, trying to catch his breath. “You feel like fucking velvet around me! I can't believe you've got me swearing.” he panted, while shaking his head.

Once he got his breathing under control, he slowly began to thrust, in long, languid strokes. He wanted to let himself fully experience her body. Taking his time, enjoying all the pleasure she could give him. He loved that she could take all of him, loved the feeling of hitting her cervix, the way her walls caressed his length. She fit him perfectly, like she was made just to take him.

Steve was torn, he wanted to continue his slow, torturous pace, but he also wanted to pound into her until he came. He told himself there would be more opportunities like this and he could take his time with her another night. Removing himself from her, he reached for the pants he'd been wearing and fished out the condom he'd brought. He quickly put it on before entering her once again.

“I can't wait until I don't have to use one of these with you.” He smiled as he began to thrust once again.

Grabbing her hips, he began to pick up the pace, slamming into her harder and harder. Needing more friction and more control, he adjusted himself so he was on his knees, he picked up her hips, the rest of her body still sprawled on the bed, and moved her body to meet his thrusts, allowing himself to put more force behind it.

“Holy shit, doll, you're so perfect. I wasn't sure you'd be able to take all of me, I never should have doubted you. Fuck, I can't wait for you to feel how perfectly we fit together. I knew you were special the moment I saw you, knew you were meant to be mine.”

He was pounding into her with almost everything he had. He could feel his release building up, when she started moaning and he felt her walls convulse around his cock, that was all he needed before he came inside her, harder than he ever had before. He gave a few more thrusts, before sitting on his knees, still holding her hips. Panting and sweating as he stared down at her naked body.

“I love you so much! And I know soon, you'll love me just as much. My perfect, little angel.” He whispered, leaning over and placing a kiss on her lips. He kept himself locked inside her for a few more minutes, letting his hands roam her body. Next time, he'd bring his camera so he could take pictures of her like this. That way, when he had to be away from her for too long, he'd still be able to see her like this.

He finally removed his softening cock from her, pulled off the condom, tying it off at the end, then wrapping it in toilet paper, he put it in his pants pocket. He couldn't leave any evidence behind, he knew she wasn't ready to accept the truth, just yet. He dressed himself, then, after cleaning her up with a warm towel, he dressed her and tucked her in.

“I'll see you soon, sweetheart.” he whispered, before placing a kiss to her forehead.

He did one more sweep of the room, making sure he wasn't leaving anything behind, then gave her one last loving look and left.

He couldn't wait to get back to his apartment and watch the footage of their love making. He also couldn't wait to plan their next session.

After watching the video feed, Steve decided he needed to find a drug that would let her remain semi conscious, so she could participate a little more, but didn't let her remember what happened. He wanted to hear more of her cries and wanted to feel her wrap her arms and legs around him. But more than anything, he wanted to fuck her pretty, little mouth and make her swallow everything he gave her.

As he thought about all the dirty things he wanted to do to her, he had to fight the urge to sneak back into her apartment and fulfill his urges. The only thing stopping him, was that he had no idea how long the drug would keep her unconscious. He didn't want to risk her waking up, while he was pounding her with his cock.

With his cock, hard and aching for relief, he slid his pants down enough to expose himself, and did the only other thing he could do to relief himself.

[late-to-the-party-81]

Bastard! But we know he fucks so good! 🤤

Beg

Pairing: Brock Rumlow x Reader

Words: 1919

Warning: Non/dub con, Bondage, Choking, Cussing, Forced Orgasms, Edging

Summary: You are captured by your ex Brock Rumlow. He doesn’t like that you left him for Steve Rogers and plans to show you why you should never have left him.

Do Not Read if any of the warnings offend you. Dark Fic Ahead. DNI if you are a minor. 18+ Only.

Divider by @firefly-graphics​

Reblogs & Comments on Tumblr are welcomed and encouraged. 😊💜

I do NOT give my consent to have my work translated or reposted on any social media platform, apps or third party sites. If you see my work anywhere else besides my personal Tumblr & AO3 accounts then it has been stolen. I will NEVER give written or verbal permission to repost or translate any of my fanfics as they’re MY intellectual property. 🚫🚫

Keep reading

[oneoftheprettynerds]

Welcome To The Darkside: Dark!Steve x Reader (Mob AU)

Chapter 1 in the Lipstick and Crayons Series

A/N: I just posted a story I know but I’m in love with this idea right now and this is my favourite fic right now. It’s going to be a three or four part fic I think and your support in any form: like, comment or reblog is appreciated greatly. Here is a piece of my heart right here.

Warning: Eventual Non-Con, Sickening Threats, Mob Themes, Violence, Death, Manipulation, sort of Blood Kink I think, Cheap Tricks later.

Genres + Characters: Mob AU, Single Parents AU, Steve Rogers x Reader.

Summary: Steve can't ever repay you for what you did. After meeting you, Steve believes his broken family is the missing piece in the puzzle of your own wrecked one. Indebting the crime lord to you has been the biggest mistake of your life, cause now you can't get rid of him, no matter what. Loyalty and favours go a long way in the mob.

Chapter 1 : Welcome to The Darkside

The gunshots around you frightened you more than anything in your life ever had. The merry, joyful ambience of the carnival was ruined in an instant. Screams around you provoked your panic-stricken form to gather your wits and run or hide. It wasn’t just you caught up in this dreadful situation, there was also someone you’d protect at any cost.

Picking your daughter up and setting her on your hip, you looked around for the way out. Who would have thought that open grounds were hard to get out of? Another wave of terror ran through you when the gunshots audibly neared and the crowd ran in random directions.

You decided to go along the way you recognised the games and shops at. You ran as fast as you could, checking on Grace in between to find her looking curiously all around but still more intent on eating her cotton candy than inspecting. You couldn’t be more thankful for kids' oblivion than at that moment in time.

A bomb explosion up ahead in your path made you halt in your tracks because you knew some of the attackers were scouting there. Turning back wasn’t an option, neither was crying and you were sure you closer to the exit this way. Another blast behind you took away the option of you retracing your path. You weren’t considering it but it gave you little comfort to have your options open.

As the shrieks and screeches grew tenfold, your best bet was to hide, the assaulters had already surrounded the field, the chaos around you informed you. Jumping through innumerable dead bodies, of kids and adults that ached your heart, and dodging bullets while laying low, you went inside a photo booth to hide.

This will not be in vain; you’d protect Grace no matter what.

The curtain to the photo booth provided cover from predatory eyes while the rest of the metal booth was quite safe against bullets you concluded hopefully.

You were just looking for a weapon to prepare for any adversity that might come your way, when the sound of crunching of pebbles made their way to your ears.

Failing to find a weapon in few seconds you opted to attack the intruder yourself when a voice reached your ears, “Mama?”

You puzzled your eyebrows and lowered your defences by just a bit when a toddler stumbled inside the booth, blonde haired and blue eyed. You were definitely not this girl’s mama but you grabbed the kid’s forearm and pulled her inside, shushing her gently and seating her beside Grace on the sitting bench inside. You were thankful Grace entertained her by offering her the pink cloud of sweetness.

You peeked outside but failed to find anyone else in 20 metre radii of you, nobody resembling the wandering kid nor looking for one. You did not know what you would do with another kid in your hands in this dire situation nor was it a wise decision to bring her inside and take her under your wing but you did not have it in you to leave an unsuspecting child, a mere four or three-year-old at that, during a calamity so extreme.

Your maternal instincts governed your thought process, imagining Grace to be in her shoes, all alone and discarded while a possible terrorist attack was happening. The kids’ corpses lying outside gave you no doubt that these children’s fate would be the same if found by the attackers.

A small tug in your dress made you look back and you found the azure eyed kid at your feet, offering you the street food you bought earlier while hugging your leg and observing you. Grace munched in the back silently, still happily eating and unaware.

You kneeled and whispered, “What’s your name, honey?” Maybe the girl understood the urgency, maybe she was just mimicking you but even she murmured in a low voice, “Sarah.”

You nodded, “Sweetie, I need you to sit there quietly and make no sounds, okay? We are playing a staying quiet game.” That was a stupid thing to ask of a kid but you hoped, you really, really hoped she would comply.

Her eyes widened in recognition of something as she eagerly asked, still in a hushed mumble, “Like I does for Dada in meekings?”

“Yes, you smart kiddo. Exactly that.” You replied with what you hoped was a convincing smile and ruffled her hair while nudging her towards her former seat. With kids, you knew a little encouragement went a long way to get them to do things. She whispered an ‘okay Mama’ and went about and sat.

You didn’t get to enjoy her obedience as the thud of pebbles crunching met your ears again. Your breath hitched; your intuition told you that this was not another kid confusing you for its parent.

Your eyes found a discarded piece of metal rod from the booth’s wrecked framework. You grabbed and hoped for the best, to save both the kids at your ability’s mercy.

Steve only saw red. The moment the first shot sounded in the air, he knew whom the assailants were, whom they were coming for. Going out tonight was a bad idea, a really reckless one indeed but when his daughter started bawling seeing the carnival’s lights from the car and wanted to get up and close, he couldn’t say no. He really tried to though, he really did.

It hadn’t been even a year since his wife died, but the father-daughter duo was getting by. He knew his wife took his daughter to the carnival and bought her things, toys and teddies, on every birthday of her own. It was a ritual his wife started, spending her birthday with her little offspring during the daylight and going out for a romantic dinner at the end of the day with her dear spouse. If only things could still be that way, could still stay the same.

When his wife turned out to be an elaborate spy all along, he was baffled. His professional side was, dare he say, impressed by the commitment to character but his personal side was beyond disappointed, disheartened in the worst way because his daughter was his most precious asset in this cruel world and that gift was given by such a treacherous person.

She begged and pled for mercy, to let Sarah have her mother and swore on her life that she quit her espionage journey when she actually fell in love but Steve didn’t trust a single syllable out of her filthy, deceiving mouth, not anymore.

He didn’t kill her though, because Sarah was his first priority no matter what. Her assassination was the work of his rival mob, ‘The Vice Kings’ led by the bastard Rumlow. It was an open invitation for war in the city, for them money came first and useless people had to die. They killed two birds with a single stone, git rid of a useless former member and successfully made a statement.

Then began the still happening rivalry between those Vices and his mob, ‘The Avenging Cartel’. The wound from his wife’s assassination was still fresh, he didn’t miss her as much as he had taken the hit to his pride. There had been a peaceful agreement until the brutal maiming of his spouse and now he was working more than ever, barely able to make time for his princess and that was his only regret, missing her childhood.

And now he felt more futile, his palette of emotions ranging from hues of ire to shades of dread. He couldn’t believe his entourage of trained professionals failed to monitor a two-year-old. He had just stepped aside to take a call, leaving her with his latest driver and three bodyguards. How could he be that clueless to not realise the imposters infiltrating his ranks, standing right there and selling away his location?

As soon as the sound of the first firearm shooting reached his ears, he leapt towards his daughter only to find her missing. His little minx thankfully escaped for one of her little adventures and successfully evaded these cheats, whom he shot right in the middle of the eyes when he glanced at the grenades packing in the coats’ undersides.

His moment of gratitude evaporated in mere seconds as he realised that the Vices now surrounded the entire area, their mission being his daughter’s abduction. If they wanted to kill both of them, they would have already, considering Steve’s distraction gave them quite too many openings. They wanted him to surrender, because mobs worked that way; only when one leader signed off his territories did it become the other party’s possession. If they just cut one head, another would grow in its place, a new leader would succeed the predecessor.

He sent emergency signals to both Barnes and Wilson, the only ones he could trust right now, summoning them with back-ups. The screams of the crowd did not ease him at all, piling on his burden and stress as he prayed for the first time ever, that by some miracle he would reach his daughter first in this field and she would safely be in his arms by the end of the night, not become a victim to what his enemies were planning.

He did have a tracker in her pendant but this realisation hit him later than he’d like to admit, the frustration clawing away his wits. The ground was now quite empty, piles of bodies scattered across the field abruptly where people became victims to the grenades, any person who failed to protect themselves, died. As he was pulling his phone out again, his eyes caught sight a flower bead. The same bead he and his daughter used to make a bracelet a month ago. She wore that everywhere, to day-care, while bathing, to birthdays.

The bracelet was obviously broken now but it was almost like a trail that led to his treasure, like in the Hansel and Gretel’s fairy-tale that Sarah loved. He followed with quiet steps, the beads far apart and some resting under the debris but they sure did lead him somewhere, and when he found the even the pendant in his path, he knew he had only the few beads to rely on.

Some thumps and crashes made him alert, his pistol ready, and when he neared carefully to a distorted metal framework of sorts, his eyes widened.

A young woman had a body in front of her lying on the ground. In a pool of scarlet it rested, still and unmoving while her breathing quickened, her eyes shining with tears that she tried too damn hard to confine to her eyes. He knew how hard the first kill always was, but one grows numb with increase in body count.

Brave women were his type and he would have been turned on by her courage, her hands stained red with whatever weapon she attacked with. Her soft facial features and her curves in the dress she wore were a show stopper for sure, and he would’ve been flirting with her if it was not for the brutal severity of the situation, his daughter missing and in possible danger.

His vigilant senses, courtesy of the epinephrin, picked up two things; the butterfly bead that rested in the door of the booth the woman stood at and the creep shadowing her from behind, ready to attack with a baseball bat he might have found in one of the other game shops.

Steve used his position behind the neighbouring booth to make a bull’s eye shot, the bullet going just an inch above the female’s shoulder and going across the creep’s head. The logo on the corpse’s leather jacket showed Steve he picked the right side to defend.

The sheer suddenness of the move caught the woman off guard as she dropped her weapon and twisted back to find the soulless eyes of her possible attacker staring at her. She quickly armed herself with her attacking rod once again and tried to trace the bullet back from its shooter, her eyes wide and calculating.

Steve decided it was time to interrogate, to find Sarah.

The graze of the bullet above your shoulder alarmed you and you stood dumbfounded only for an instant though. You were sure the bullet was meant for you but the thud of a body behind you, seemingly preparing to attack you proved you wrong.

Calming yourself, you still stood on the ball, because someone killing your attacker didn’t necessarily mean you were safe. With just a pull of the trigger, your fate could very easily be the same. You had to play this smart.

“Lower your weapon. I won’t repeat myself.” A husky voice called out, laced with seriousness which left no room for argument.

You did as he said, knowing that shabby rod was no match against the gun. He stepped out from his hiding position and gave away his location, steps slightly treading towards you. Your hands trembled, heart thumping a bit too loud while blood and sweat coated your frame.

When moonlight lightened his face, you saw his blonde luscious locks, slightly overgrown, a neatly trimmed beard darker than his hair and the cerulean blue eyes that were clear as crystal but shadowed with proficiency.

“Good, now did you see a kid around here? Blonde and blue eyes?”

His question didn’t surprise you, the gun barrel trained on you did. The previous man you had killed, that laid dead ahead of you had asked the same question. You did not know why they were after the toddler nor did you have the time to dwell on it. Time was of the essence now and he was expecting an answer.

The fact that he saved an unsuspecting lady was a plus point, but you also had to consider that he was threatening you all the same. But if that was his kid, it was understood, the resemblance between them was uncanny but that wasn’t enough proof. However, as your flickered to the man you killed, you noticed the logo on his jacket was the same as the one on your possible murderer’s jacket. It still wasn’t enough evidence but you had no choice, the man had a gun and you had two kids relying on you. At least he wasn’t on the bombing side.

“Yes, what is she to you?” You tried to be brave but you were sure he saw right through you.

“You don’t ask the questions here but this one I’ll answer. She is my daughter. Now, where is she?”  

“How do I know you’re not lying? I can’t just and her over to you!”

“Her name is Sarah; she is my carbon copy. She is wearing a pink dress with white flowers; pink crocs and her hair is in a ponytail with a white scrunchy. She had two white clips in her hair beside the ponytail. Enough proof?”

No, you could be a creepy paedophile for all I know.

You were still contemplating when he spoke again, “She’s my daughter and I know she’s in that booth beside you. I appreciate you trying to protect her I think but she’ll respond to me calling her. Sarah?”

The little toddler poked her head out, her eyes brightening in recognition and you heaved a sigh of relief involuntarily. Your maternal instinct made you anxious for kids you barely even knew. She ran towards her father shouting ‘Dada’ and jumped into his arms while he hid his gun. You almost snorted at that, tons of dead bodies surrounding you and he was worried about the gun?

He propped her up, hugging her tightly, and with what you knew now, he was scared to death and rightfully so.

Grace poked her head out and ran towards you now, hugging you from behind your legs and silently peeking at the mysterious human. You held Grace’s hand now, intertwining your fingers and felt relief after long. Even though there was no knowing that the man would help you two but you gave yourself comfort you weren’t alone here, not anymore.

Sarah turned and met your eyes again and whispered lowly, “Oops Mama, I think the games over! Sowwy!”

Steve’s eyes widened at that and you laughed at her innocence, feeling light. You played along with the kid, “It’s alright.” You didn’t want to play ‘Mommy’ anymore after that thinking it would offend her father but even, he chuckled, his laugh beautiful and boisterous.

Suddenly men dressed in black and armed with weapons ran about, skidding and crossing you to survey the area out. You shielded Grace once again but the father ahead of you didn’t even flinch. Noticing your unease, he came closer and put a hand on you arm, “I’m Steve and don’t worry, these are my men, the good guys.”

You nodded, not agreeing with his idea of good and bad but since you hoped he did acknowledge that he owed you one, you hoped none of these men would attack you. You introduced yourself and he nodded.

With Sarah on his hip, he started following one of his men and you followed along hoping to get to the exit. He even asked to drop you home but you refused, just wanting to get to the parking and put all these guns out of your kid’s sight. He tsked over his shoulder and you knew he would insist again later but for now he listened intently to the man he addressed as Buck.  

This Buck eyed you several times, not so discreetly, while Steve renounced the whole incident of some spies and whatnot. You closed your eyes, not wanting to eavesdrop and just wanting to relax but you could do neither right now. They were after Sarah; you had presumed right.

Sarah made grabby hands from over Steve’s shoulder while Grace slept soundly in your arms, maybe jealous of her. She pouted and then slowly began her lower lip began to tremble. A whine escaped her mouth as she started bawling. Steve stopped to shush her but she continued screeching, “I miss Mama!” and tried to get away from Steve and jump into your arms. Buck looked surprised while Steve’s eyes pleaded yours and you nodded and gave Grace to her and took Sarah in your arms, gently shushing her and patting her back. She drooled in the crook of your neck but that was nothing new and quietened down. You didn’t want to give Grace away but you couldn’t see another child so miserable, not when you had one of your own.

Steve and ‘Buck’ observed you, not saying anything so you broke the silence. “I’m sorry she confuses me with her mother, I hope she doesn’t get offended by this.”

“She’s no more.” Steve looked down and you cursed yourself for breaking the silence, make the situation more awkward and unbearable.

“I’m sorry.” Well that was better than joking about how Grace didn’t have a father either.

“Don’t be, she deserved what she got.” Steve mumbled and continued walking with ‘Buck’, lightly patting Grace and kissing her forehead.

The peck should have bothered you but you were too engrossed by his words to eavesdrop further or check on Grace. What did he mean she deserved it? You didn’t even want to think of the probability of him killing her. With all the soldiers that surrounded you, you suddenly realised he was capable of more than you thought and you felt stupid for feeling safe with him when you did. He was a leader of sorts, a person with unimaginable power and you had dived headfirst in the kind of things you should avoid at all costs. Even though you hadn't crossed him or weren't on his bad side, getting involved was a mistake.

You learnt this lesson the hard way soon enough.

[hurricanerin]

Poise & Rationality Ch. 1: Chime

A profuse thank you to @hysteria87​ for being a solid pal and beta and making me a bomb graphic.  And shoutout to @liquor-belle​ for unintentionally signing on as my crisis management team and beta as well.  Annnnd to both of them for handling my 7 week long neurosis featuring this story.  Both of them are hardcore talented, please check them out.

Hi Dark!Steve Fandom!  Thanks for your patience!

Pairing: HYDRA!Steve x OFC

Rating: Explicit.  Always, always explicit.

Warnings: Rape/noncon/dubcon, smut, forced pregnancy, emotional manipulation, power imbalance.

Length: 5.5k.

Summary: Shield has fallen, leaving Eden at the feet of the villainous Steve Rogers, Hydra's newest recruit.  She walks on eggshells, trying to survive in a new reality where she’s at the mercy of her closest friend, one where she can keep her heart locked away from this mess.  The problem is that the ex-Captain’s flirting and gentle teasing has turned carnal and new intentions clear: she is his and he’s going to have her.

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It felt like a bad dream, really; the defunct Avengers held captive at the overtaken compound while the newly triumphant Hydra made themselves comfortable.  Shock collars, laced with gamma radiation and programmed to trigger in the event of excessive exertion, kept the fallen heroes docile as their minds rotted with hate and failure.  It would have been a kindness to use Loki’s scepter to cheat them into blissful unawareness as they knelt to their enemies.  

The newest of whom was Steve Rogers.

Captain America was dead.  The infamous shield rested amongst Hydra’s other freshly acquired treasures, his star spangled suit torn to shreds, and the righteous hero’s wholesome affect demolished beyond recognition.  In his place stood a hardened, jaded man, lied to and taken advantage of ten times too many by the entity he had believed in with every ounce of his being.  But, when government property and intelligence were held at a higher value than humanity again and again, when Shield repeatedly chose to prioritize the safety and preservation of weapons over the lives of civilians, Steve had finally walked away from everything: the scene, the victims’ bodies, Shield itself. Three days later, Hydra attacked the compound in upstate New York, led by the rogue First Avenger. All Avengers were taken alive and divided amongst the Hydra elite.  

Some higher ups chose more practical uses for their new playthings.  Hydra monitored Tony, even more volatile due to Pepper’s disappearance, with a team of twenty while they forced him to improve Hydra weapons tech.  Bruce, clad in a collar unique to his makeup and under the watchful eye of fifty of Hydra’s finest, was stuck in the lab conducting heinous experiments on future super soldiers.  Natasha, Clint and Thor also served in sectors reflective of their own talents.  Steve stuffed down the guilt twisting in his stomach and instead focused on the satisfaction of knowing that Shield’s puppets were neutralized.

The Captain’s personal vendettas didn’t end with the five originals; he spread his bitter anger throughout the extended squad of heroes. Save for a smattering of team members he recruited, the Avengers as a whole suffered.  He made certain that Eden, a recruit with only two years on the Avengers crew, endured a fate just as miserable as the rest.  She was his protegee and had been attached to his side since her first day on the team.  She deserved to be punished like the others, forced to watch the world they had worked so hard to protect fall to shambles.  

Eden had had Steve wrapped so tightly around her little finger by the time he left for Hydra that when she refused to change sides, she had …wounded him.  Badly. She deserved retribution, but Steve didn’t have time for petty discipline and the thought of anyone but himself marking or marring her skin made him see red.  If someone were to physically punish Eden, it would be his fingers pressing bruises into her arms, his teeth leaving angry red imprints on her neck, his lips pulling purple marks to the surface of her chest.  

No. The situation didn’t call for that. Not yet.  For now, he was content humiliating her; keeping her close to his side, as she had been since her first day at the compound.  Eden now served as his imprisoned assistant and glorified scullery maid.  A combat-trained scullery maid capable of absorbing and neutralizing the energy of a nuclear bomb, but a maid nonetheless.  Most importantly, she was his.  

 Of all the people in the world to be assigned, Steve Rogers was the last who required cleaning up after.  Even as Hydra’s Captain, he kept his rooms immaculate.  In doing so, he unintentionally maintained that air of humility that had made him Captain America, which infuriated Eden.  He would be so much easier to hate if he weren’t still Steve.

Smoothing the surface of the flat sheet over his mattress, she exhaled softly.  Like the disciplined soldier he was, Steve made his bed every morning, but he liked new sheets every other day.  Changing his linens provided a brief reprieve from the boredom of being confined to his apartment all day, for which she was grateful.  Humming absently to herself, she spread the slate-colored comforter over his bed.  She honestly wasn’t sure which she preferred: solitude; time wasted alone in his giant space where she was plagued by listlessness, or suffering his company, in which she was tortured by watching the man she revered so ardently betray his own credo.  

When a series of beeps and chirps sounded from the other room, followed by the thunk of reversing deadbolts, Eden’s heart pounded and she haphazardly dragged the bedspread over the mattress and tossed the remaining pillows onto the bed. Rushing from his bedroom, she didn’t bother with the lights as she hustled into the living room.  Steve discovering her in his room rarely ended well. He would stare at her, pupils dilated to the size of dinner plates as he made no effort to conceal the erection growing in his trousers.  He’d toy with her until the tension in the room grew unbearable, and then she’d break and find an excuse to flee.  Though they hadn’t acted on their mutual attraction prior to his betrayal, the power dynamic between them was vastly different now.  She wasn’t sure she was allowed to refuse his advances anymore, and she didn’t care to put herself in a position to find out.  So far, he had been lenient.

Trotting straight to a cart filled with decanters of alcohol and snatching the scotch, she paid little mind as she nearly missed the tumbler, hastily pouring as the front door released and Steve strode into the room. Wiping her wet hand on the skirt of her dress, Eden silently approached him and held out the crystal glass, neglecting to make eye contact.  Once in his grasp, she fled with as much subtlety as possible, taking refuge beside the antique cart.

A stack of papers muffled the clatter of his heavy P220 as he dropped them to the kitchen table.  Gaze flicking over her, Steve took a long draw, disappointed, as always, at the alcohol’s lack of effect.  Though Eden’s eyes refused to meet his, she did pay attention to the way his scruffy throat bobbed as he swallowed, which earned her a grin.  Her attempts at feigned disinterest were endearing. Actually, at the present moment everything about her was endearing.  Appealing. Fresh from a testosterone-filled debriefing meeting, an aching tension filled him from chest to groin, begging to be released.  However, their tango wasn’t simple.

Licking a drop of liquor from his lip, he nodded in her direction.  “How was your day, Eden?”

Her lip curled before she dropped her gaze to the ground, letting her hair fall forward to shield her face.  The simple act caused a pleasant throb in his lower abdomen.  The more she hated him, the more he wanted her. There had been a magnetism between them before the takeover, before his ultimate betrayal.  Back when he was good. As his altruism had faded while hers remained, as his world had darkened and decayed, Eden had stayed a small beacon of… not light, but comfort.  Someone he returned to at the compound and used to soothe the festering rage and simmering disappointment Shield fostered.

It was Eden who had coaxed him into sharing his doubts regarding Shield’s intentions and she had never judged him for it.  She had listened, challenging him with the occasional question or opinion.   He had never doubted her fidelity, but everything changed during the takeover. The expression on her face when she saw him flanked with Hydra soldiers that day of the attack made his stomach sink. Steve had trained her, made her what she was.  She was his confidante.  He thought Eden’s loyalty would survive something like his transition to Hydra, but he was sorely mistaken.  She had turned on him, just like almost everyone else.  

Eyes flicking over her body, clad in his designated 1940’s tea dress, Steve rested his hip against the leather sectional.  His face hardened as he drained the tumbler and tried again.

“How was your day, Eden?”

Once more, ignored him.

“Respond, Eden.”

Focused on her hands, she picked at the cuticle of her thumb.

Pursing his lips, Steve sighed and reached into his pocket to retrieve a slim remote.  He saw Eden freeze in his peripheral, but she still refused to look up.  With an exasperated exhale, he pressed one of the buttons, frowning as the woman cried out and crumpled to her knees, tugging at the collar around her neck and leaning into the wall for support.

“Damnit,” she panted.

“I don’t like it when you ignore me, Eden.”

“I don’t like it when you betray your family, humiliate and hold us prisoner, but here we are,” she grit.

Steve’s face softened as his gaze focused on something she couldn’t see.

Family.

The Avengers were his family.  Had been his family.  Hydra would never fill that void.  He knew that going in.  For as much as Steve Rogers had changed, that basal, primal need to create a family he could protect and provide for still ate at him.  It was the one thing in the world he wanted.  He had given everything to defend the earth and its inhabitants.  Was he not due what he desired most?  

Eyes focusing, they honed in on the seething woman bracing the wall.  Even incensed and in pain, Eden made his thick cock swell.  Family.  He had entertained the idea featuring her, of course.  It was impossible not to when they spent so much time together.  He had briefly substituted several of the women he worked with, but he always came back to Eden.  She fit all his requirements; wide hips, a hearty body, strong maternal instincts, and more than capable of defending herself.  How her superhuman talents would factor into her offspring had yet to be determined, but he doubted the results would be adverse.

Natasha would kill anything he planted inside her just to spite him.  She was self-destructive.  But Eden… Eden was flawed in a completely different manner, in harmless ways, such as stubbornly insisting she was always right or that her way was best, but he had sway over her.  She was headstrong with a temper, but both were easily tamed.  In training, she yielded beautifully to him.  Sometimes it took him physically besting her to get a point across.  If that carried over to their relationship, then so be it.

He knew Eden may try to escape with his baby because she feared for his or her safety, but that did not concern him.  He would prove to her eventually that once she submitted to him, there was nothing to fear.

With a tired, distracted sigh, Steve collapsed onto the sofa, discarded his glass on the cocktail table and absently rubbed his chin with a thumb.  Frowning, he tugged at the hair on his jaw, feeling the length.  He turned and examined himself critically in the mirror mounted on the wall behind him, running his fingers through the heft of his beard. He could feel the odd stray hair and the undefined neckline bordered on untidy.

“I want this trimmed,” he said without facing Eden.

Biting her cheek to keep from scoffing, she crossed her arms and raised a brow, only to be met with an austere glance in the mirror’s reflection.  Steve nodded in the direction of his bedroom.

“My shaving kit is in the bathroom, bottom left cabinet.  Go get it.”

Releasing an irritated sigh, Eden dropped her arms to her sides.  

“Yes, sir.”  

Her voice was demure but the ire in her eyes gleamed with disdain.  Pushing off the wall, she slipped into his bedroom and to the ensuite.  She knelt and rummaged through the cabinet, retrieving the worn bag.  Steve watched impatiently from a kitchen chair as she dropped her prize unceremoniously on his kitchen counter.  

“What are you waiting for?”

Gritting her teeth, she unzipped the leather pouch, fishing out its contents and laying them on the table: a plastic comb, a few guards, clippers, beat up disposable razor, and a tube of shaving butter.

Eying the pile, the corner of her mouth pulled upwards. Forgetting herself, she couldn’t stop the jibe from tumbling out from between her lips, “The traditional Captain America doesn’t have a straight edge?”

Steve’s body stiffened.  He inhaled sharply, releasing his breath through his nose.  Forcing his corded muscles to relax, he shucked off his long sleeved tactical shirt and held it out for her to take.  “I don’t have time for nostalgia.”

“Seriously?” Eden muttered to herself.

His movements froze and his gaze met hers.  Heat bloomed across her face and chest at the invitation in his eyes to provoke him further.  She held his stare for a moment longer before he called her bluff, and Eden looked away.  Suddenly very busy folding his uniform, she focused on her task until he stretched his arms behind his head.  With a loud, satisfied groan, he extended his hands into the air, then rubbed a palm against the skintight material of the thin, white cotton t-shirt plastered against his chest.

Aware of the nearly irresistible temptation to stare at Steve’s body, Eden set her jaw as she delicately placed his still-warm shirt on the counter.  Planting a hand on her hip, her eyes flicked back and forth between Steve, his beard, and his array of tools.  She motioned at the table.

“This is going to make a mess.  There will be trimmings everywhere.  Let’s do it over the sink.”

“Here is fine.  My maid will sweep everything up later.”

Gritting her teeth, she marched to the table, snatched the clippers and comb in one hand and wrenched his chin upwards with the other.

“I haven’t done this in a long time.  It may not be good,” she warned.

“I didn’t expect you to have done this at all.  Whose beard have you trimmed?”

She hesitated, running the comb down through the scruff on his cheeks to wrangle unkempt hairs, then turned on the clippers.  If his arched eyebrow wasn’t enough indication, Steve clearing his throat made his desire for a prompt answer abundantly clear.

“An ex owned a barbershop,” she said over the noise.  “I wanted to know what he did all day, so he taught me.”

At the mention of her being with another man, Steve visibly bristled.  

“I see.”

Using her fingertips to angle Steve’s jaw as needed, Eden couldn’t fight the blush staining her cheeks.  His eyes followed her everywhere as she guided the guarded clippers down in the direction of the hair growth on his cheeks.  His pensive gaze was overwhelming, and given the amusement in his eyes, he knew very well the effect he had on her.  She opted to ignore him.  

Confident that she had trimmed enough without taking away too much bulk, she flipped the switch off to change the guard.  She needed one that would leave more length for his neck and chin.  

Steve cleared his throat, breaking her concentration.

“Do you want kids, Eden?”

She froze, almost dropping the plastic piece in her hand. A deeply personal question from Captain America wouldn’t have warranted a second thought.  But, since the takeover and her accused betrayal, Steve had been cold, withdrawing from her completely.  Her heart ached at the naïve hope bubbling up in her chest that the inquiry was meant as an opportunity to connect.  That man didn’t exist anymore.  Giving herself a mental shake, she cleared her throat and frowned in thought.

“Um, well—I guess—I—”

“It’s not a difficult question.”

Shooting him a nasty glare, she snapped the guard onto the clippers and flicked the power switch.  With a huff, she positioned herself in front of him, yanking his chin upwards and running the clipper comb through his beard.

Eden pursed her lips.  “I don’t think I’d be a good mom,” she admitted.  “My career is so much more violent than I expected, I don’t think a child should grow u—”

“You’ll be a good mom,” Steve interrupted.

The conviction in his voice caused her to falter.  With an uncomfortable laugh, she shook her head.

“I don’t know anything.  While my friends had babies, I spent my early twenties learning how to control myself around sources of energy so I didn’t accidentally blow up a city. I learned to fight and devise exit strategies and collaborate with a team.  If I have been around them, the children I’ve seen have been victims of awful circumstances.  I wouldn’t know what to say to a kid I haven’t rescued.”

Steve was contemplative as she removed the plastic guard. Her thoughtful reflection only made him desire her more.  The urge to claim her, before another Hydra member did, before an opposing force banded together and stole her away, clouded his vision.  There was only one solution: He’d plant his baby in her belly now and tie her to him forever. Eden would never allow her child to be taken from her and if she ran from him with the baby, he would find her. No matter where she went, he would find her.  She would be his by right.  They would be his by right. Mother and child tethered to father forever.  His indestructible family.  Untouchable, with two gifted parents that would do anything to protect their children.

Steve shifted uncomfortably in the chair, tugging at his tactical pants as his erection grew at the thought of her swollen with their baby. For their first child, her movement would be restricted to the compound.  She couldn’t be trusted, not yet.  But by their second, he’ll have trained her by holding their firstborn over her as leverage to obey him.

Oblivious, Eden used the bare clipper to clean up his untidy neckline, neaten his scruffy cheeks, and trim around his lips.  When she brushed away clippings littering his mouth with her fingers, he fought the urge to take them between his lips.

Eden started to hum, and it was clear her mind was deviating from their future.

“I’ve seen you with them,” he noted.  “If you can handle traumatized kids during missions, you can handle your own.  Practiced or not, you have maternal instinct.”

Eden’s ears glowed as she finished his sideburns.  Whether Steve allied himself with Hydra or Shield, she knew he wanted a family.  His approval of her ability as a mother was significant, she just couldn’t figure out where he was going with it.  Opting to ignore his comment, she gingerly placed the clippers on the kitchen counter, as if doing so with little noise would allow her to slip away unnoticed.

“All done,” she said softly, casually brushing beard hairs off her dress as she backed away.

Eden yelped when he snatched her wrist.  It took everything in her not to react instinctually, the way Captain America had relentlessly trained her body to respond when attacked.

“You’re not finished,” he said tersely, lifting his chin and rubbing the pads of his fingers along the short, prickly hair at his Adam’s apple.  “There is still stubble.”

“I’m not using that rusty razor, I’ll give you tetanus,” she nodded at the disposable in his bag.  Though Steve was correct, using a straight edge or razor would give an even closer shave than the clippers, she was not going to be responsible for infecting Hydra’s newest member.

Steve noiselessly raised his pant leg and slipped a black combat blade from a hidden ankle sheath, then handed it to Eden handle-first. Not a straightedge, but just as sharp.

“I just cleaned it,” he nodded at the weapon.  “Don’t get it dirty.”

Don’t make him bleed.  It was the most impassive threat she’d ever heard, but as deadly as if he’d held the blade to her own throat.

Eden fingered the knife handle, watching Steve’s face uneasily. How could he careen from thoughtful parent to menacing so effortlessly?  Was this a challenge?  Did he want her to attack him?  He had trained her; Eden’s uncanny talent for disarming enemies in place of killing them had always made Steve proud.  He knew her every tell and every strategy in her repertoire.  Besides, he’d never actually kill her; he found too much satisfaction in toying with her.  He’d hurt her though.  He had the self-control to dominate her physically without causing her bodily harm.  The toll it would take on her heart was another story.  Whatever he was planning, she wanted no part of it.

She held the knife back out to him, shaking her head.  “It’s too hard to get the right angle.  I’ll cut you.  Do it yourself.”

Steve’s mouth twitched.  He patted his thigh.  “Sit. You can do it from here.”  He leaned back, arms spread along the back of the chair, lap open.  The epitome of inviting.

Eden’s face warmed as she set her jaw.  Hesitating, her eyes flashed before she abandoned the knife on the counter and stalked further back into the kitchen.  Immediately Steve reached for the remote, his thumb on the button to activate her collar.  About to press down for blatantly disobeying him, he stopped when all she did was snatch a hanging towel and meander to the sink to fill a bowl with hot water.

When she turned to face him her eyes widened, brows furrowing into an expression of saddened anger as she saw the device in his hand.

“Can I keep going?  Or should I put these down so you can zap me?”

Though he only felt a tinge of guilt, it was more emotion than he could afford.  Hardening his expression, Steve dropped the remote on the table and raised his hands in the air.  

“My mistake.”

Again, he had to display that wretched humility that had made him Captain America.  Why hadn’t Hydra purged him of it?  Why couldn’t he just be bad?  Breath stuttering as she exhaled, Eden stowed her items on the counter next to Steve’s shoulder, swapping them for the weapon.

Flipping the knife in her hand, she squeezed her fingers around the handle, inhaled and gingerly padded forward.  Her breath caught as Steve’s iron grip cupped her ribcage and hip, lifting her to perch sideways on his thighs.  She caught herself, one hand grasping at the thin white t-shirt he wore, the other plastered flat against his pectoral, the knife sandwiched between her palm and the solid wall of muscle.

Her fingers tensed when his chest rumbled beneath them with a laugh, goosebumps rising on her arms as his nose found its way against the hypersensitive skin of her neck.  Steve made no effort to mask his groan as he inhaled the familiar fragrance of her jasmine shampoo, mingled with the scent that was intrinsically Eden.  When she stiffened in his arms, he guided a warm palm up the expanse of her back, pulling her even closer as he used a knuckle to brush her hair from her face.  

“Things have always been easy between us,” he mused. “It feels good to be this close, doesn’t it?  

Swallowing hard, she kept her eyes lowered, focused on his chest.  

“Of course,” she shrugged.  “This is normal.  It’s no different than training,” she all but whispered.

Shit.

Between his voice in his ear and his hands on her body, her brain wasn’t functioning.  Eden needed space.  She hadn’t smelled his familiar Old Spice deodorant, that faint note of sweat, or the pure musk of Steve since before the takeover.  Her sole mission had been to convince her brain that the man working for Hydra who looked like Steve wasn’t Steve, at least not her Steve, so she could make it through each day.  If she did that, Eden could maintain emotional distance while interacting with his imposter.  She doubted sleep would ever come easily again, not with him in the next room, but she could at least survive the daylight hours without a complete breakdown.  But now he was touching her, talking to her like nothing had happened and she couldn’t ignore who he really was.  

Steve’s thumb nudged her chin upwards to expose the underside of her jaw.   Eden was caught so off-guard by act that the emotion bubbling in her throat froze and she sobered.  She swallowed hard as she felt him lazily trace the tip of his nose along her jawline, before creeping lower and pressing his lips against the sensitive skin of her throat.  She couldn’t breathe properly, but her head was painfully clear as his scruff burned her delicate flesh and his lips pulled gently against the tender skin of her neck, leaving a purple mark.  

The sound of her breath hitching was deafening, and in case she weren’t positive that it was, feeling his lips morph into a triumphant smile against her throat confirmed it. Steve easily pried Eden’s clenched fist from his shirt and looped her arm around his shoulder.  She was putty in his hands.

Neither of them missed how the position brought them closer yet, pressing her breast firmly against his sculpted chest.  Aside from the minor shiver that racked through her, Eden ignored the sensation of her pebbled nipple rubbing against his solid mass. Steve, however, did not let it go unnoticed.  He released a pleased grunt and nodded at the knife in her hand.

“You have a job to do, Eden.”

She hated when he said her name.  All it took was hearing those two syllables and her lower belly tightened, flooding with heat.  She clenched her teeth with enough pressure that something in her jaw popped.  Taking a deep breath, she regrouped, then studied his face, analyzing the best way to proceed.

Truly, she did her best to maneuver herself with as little friction as possible.  But in reaching to drag the shaving butter, steaming bowl and rag closer, she shifted and her bottom ground against the existing bulge beneath her, eliciting a hiss from Steve.

Eden froze in a mixture of terror, embarrassment, and arousal.  When Steve repositioned himself beneath her, it was her turn to stifle a moan.  She was fairly certain the way he ground his erection against her ass was payback. Unprepared for the retribution, the quiet gasp she uttered echoed in the silent kitchen.   Eden swallowed back a whimper, closed her eyes as she collected herself.  Straightening with mock confidence, she wrung out the steaming washcloth, smeared a dollop of shaving butter on the back of her hand and turned back to Steve with the utmost delicacy.  

His harsh exhale puffed against her cheeks and she disregarded his smoldering gaze, stubbornly setting to work.  It was impossible, however, to ignore the warmth radiating off his body. The contrast in their body temperature beneath her cool palms sent goosebumps rising up her arms as she twisted to face him.  Keeping her face blank, she wet his cheeks, upper neck, and sideburns with the cloth, then worked the butter between her palms and applied it using as little bodily contact as possible.  Unfortunately, she could only limit so much.  Her task required her to run her fingers along his Adam’s apple, cheeks and the neckline of his beard to massage the product into his skin, ensuring there was a lubricating layer of cream between his flesh and the knife.

By all accounts, her hands should have trembled too badly to wield the weapon.  She followed Steve’s gaze to the steady knife as she directed his chin once again with her hand.  The corner of his mouth twitched, as if he were trying not to smirk, but he couldn’t quell the regard in his eyes.  She realized he was proud that she had stayed as composed as she had.  Her lower half throbbed, trained like a dog to respond to pleasing him.  At this point, it was a visceral reaction.

Cold blue irises tracked her every move as she lifted the blade, frowning at it before pausing to study his face.  She had no more reason to dawdle.  It was time to use the knife.  Taking a sharp breath and holding it, she gently pulled the skin of his neck taut and dragged the edge of the knife through the layer of cream, only just scraping the surface of his flesh.  It slid easily against his skin, slicing away the rough stubble until it met the edge of his carefully shaped beard.

Eden looked to him for permission to continue, but he only raised an expectant brow.  Pursing her lips, she said a prayer to whoever was out there, thanking them for the fact that he was letting her work for the moment.  She moved an inch to the left, and repeated the act.  Mechanically she shaved Steve’s neck and jaw, moving towards his chin.  As she reached the center of his neck, she scraped the knife across his skin, and he swallowed.  The unexpected, fluid roll of his Adam’s apple beneath the weapon at an exaggerated degree hit the blade at just the right angle.  The skin split, blood welling at the shallow broken seam.  Steve didn’t so much as flinch, but Eden’s entire body froze, her breath leaving her lungs.  Her brain felt like a fuzzy TV channel.  She couldn’t think.  Only her eyes moved, darting towards Steve’s face as she tried to gauge whether or not she had just signed her own death sentence.

When his only response was to clear his throat impatiently, she shook her head.  Her thoughts were so loud her head was about to burst and her frantic inhalations sounded like those of an overheated dog.

“I can’t do this,” she said breathlessly.  “I can’t.  Please.”

He moved without warning, fortunate that she had the training to keep the knife steady this time.  In a blink, she straddled him full on, her hands once again bracing his shoulders in confusion as he settled her body over his lap chest-to-chest, this time with her core positioned over the bulging hardness in his pants.

“Oh,” she gasped as his erection aligned with the soft cleft of her center, her eyes glazing over.

Steve groaned, his head tipping back and exposing his neck even further.  At some level, Eden registered the dribble of crimson gathered at the site of the miniscule cut, but out of fear for her life, she only watched it gather idly.

After a determined exhale, Steve swiped at it, distractedly glancing at his thumb after he swept the blood away before refocusing his gaze on Eden.  Unfazed, he confidently settled his hands on her hips, squeezing to gain her attention.

           “Now, your angle is better.  Finish the job.”

She started to position herself towards him, then stilled. Even the slightest pressure forward pressed her center against him.  Fighting the urge to whine, she squeezed her eyes shut.  With an uneasy breath, Eden shook herself.  He wasn’t just going to allow her to leave his lap without finishing. Whether she was willing or not, he would make her complete the task.  

Refreshing the used dish cloth in the bowl of water, she used it to dab at his wound and clean the knife of stubble and excess shaving cream. She hesitated for a moment before adjusting the tension of his skin, then launched back into her chore quickly, more concerned with finishing promptly than the risk of inflicting another nick or two.  Her physical position was beyond precarious; the intimacy of touching his face was already overwhelming, but the feeling of his cock exactly where she wanted it when they were separated by mere barriers of fabric and fundamental ideological differences was unbearable.

Eden didn’t want to think anymore.  Retreating into her mind, she went on auto-pilot.  Scraping and wiping, she worked methodically until her assignment was nearly completed.  It wasn’t until then she that realized that once she did finish, she would be left straddling Steve’s lap without an easy way down and no work to occupy her.  Torn between the incentive of not having to endure the intimacy of touching his face and the dread of the unknown, Steve forced her hand when he started rubbing his thumbs back and forth against her thighs, buffered by the cloth of her dress. She stiffened, unable to squirm away in fear of upsetting or further arousing him, but incapable of staying stationary due to the threat of his wandering hands.  

The look of amused satisfaction that came over Steve’s face frightened her.  It also made her slick center throb.  Certain she resembled a panicked deer with wide, leery eyes, she wet her lip, eyes flicking to the weapon in her hand.

“This needs to stop,” she warned.

Silently he dared her to break his gaze as his fingers traced the hem of her dress.  Eden was keyed up on adrenaline, so focused on Steve and his predatory gaze that when his palms confidently made their way under the skirt of her dress and up her warm thighs, her reaction was instant.  Clutching Steve’s knife in her fist, she made a lightning-quick move to hold the weapon to his throat.  The clap of his palm catching her arm sounded before she felt his grip on her.

“Eden,” he sighed.  “I’m disappointed.”

Ch. 2 What a Shame >>

 Tag list: @whatsitgonnabeangelina​ @kakakatey​ @patzammit​ @maynay43​ @readermia​ @the-kinky-friend​ @monarchofallisurvey​ @averyrogers83​ @atthediscowithoutpanic​ @smollest-soybean​ @alexakeyloveloki​ @theofficialwifeeeofpietro​ @rania @suzieqsez  @liquor-belle @sophiria @titty-teetee @mcudarklibrary​

[champagne-bucky]

Debt to Be Paid: I

Summary: Earth fears intergalactic war with another planet. The Avengers are called to work out negotiations on Zevitar, the planet of peace. What happens when they are reunited with their long lost team member?

Warnings: dark!Bucky x reader, mentions of non/dub-con, age gap (reader is of age) 

Notes: SHE’S HEREEEEEEE!!! Welcome to the first chapter of DTBP, the sequel to IOU!! If you’re new to this story make sure you check out IOU before you read this!! To all those who have read IOU... buckle up... Anyways enjoy!! Let me know what ya think! Please make sure to like, comment, reblog, inbox, and follow me for more! Enjoy :) 

Throughout his lifetime Steve Rogers was exposed to many types of pain. Whether it was physical, mental, or emotional, Steve could handle just about anything life could throw at him. That was until he lost you. In all his years of fighting alongside the Avengers, having been responsible for the demise of half the world’s population, and the tons of toxic chemicals pumped into his body could never prepare him for the pain of losing a child. While there is no biological relation, Steve couldn’t help but mourn for the loss of his daughter.

When Sam and Tony had come to the island to end his vacation they were trying to keep quiet about the situation that occurred back home. It wasn’t until three hours into the flight back home that Tony finally cracked and told Steve what was up. Steve was in shock, his daughter fought and nearly killed his best friend? Impossible.

Needless to say, Steve Rogers was an emotional wreck once he got back to the compound. He saw the state of Bucky’s room, he saw where they kept you locked up, he saw the damage that had been done to Stephen and Wanda when you escaped. He saw parts of you that he never knew you held. How dark had you become since he left, he wondered on those late sleepless nights.

Steve didn’t speak for days. Instead, he spent them walking around the taped off ruins of his beloved compound. What was once a home for him and his family felt more like a cold, steel, jail cell. He was truly in hell without you.

The nights were filled with him lying awake in bed, eyes opened wide and darting to every corner of the room, praying that you would somehow walk out of the shadows and back to him. Instead of taking sleeping pills that Tony suggested to him, he would get up out of bed and start researching, questioning, and theorizing where it is that you could be.

After a few weeks and two overworked coffee machines later, Steve had created three possible theories about what could have happened to you:

Being an Avenger came with a handful of enemies.  

Almost everyone on the team had their own enemies. From empty threats to stalker incidences, no one on the team was really safe. Any form of social media was constantly monitored, every time they were in a car there was security two cars behind, the second an Avenger leaves the tower they have surveillance on them 99.9% of the time.

Still, that .1% haunts Steve. He knows that people have their ways when it comes to the innovation of technology. Perhaps there was someone out there that was too good with computers. They hacked you, stalked you, and threatened you not to tell anyone. Maybe it got so out of hand to the point where you ran away for the protection of yourself and for the others. Maybe you attacked Bucky to keep the secret hidden or you got so scared that attacking him was an accident.

    2.   Everyone has their demons… maybe you had kept yours hidden too well.

As days grew longer, so did Steve’s suspicions. He never thought bad things about you. In fact, Steve knew there wasn’t a bad bone in your body. So why did he keep thinking you were secretly an evil person?

He theorized that there could’ve been another side to who you were. The nice and sweet you was all an act and you were waiting for an opportunity to show your true self. Between him not being around anymore and you now having full access to technology and weapons only Avengers have access to, you took advantage of your new found status and got carried away. Bucky found out and tried to put a stop to you and that’s how he ended up getting attacked. You broke out before you could face any consequences.

Steve shook his head at this theory. He knew you like he knew the layout of his old 40’s apartment. You’re not a bad person and never once have you said you hated someone. You never said you even hated Bucky, just upset that he didn’t seem to like you as much as the others did.

  3.  Being apart from Steve sent you towards a downwards spiral… basically it was all Steve’s fault that you’re gone.

This theory made a whole lot of sense, and none of it at the same time. Yes, everyone could confirm that you really missed Steve. You missed training with him and hanging out with him. You missed his presence around the compound as well. Something about Steve just made your days way better than when he wasn’t at the compound at all.

What didn’t make sense to anybody was why would you attack someone over this? Sure, you missed Steve, but nobody thought you missed him so much to the point of nearly killing someone. Bucky did give you a hard time, but as far as the Avengers knew it was just some name calling you didn’t appreciate.

Everyone recounted their last few days with you at the compound. You seemed okay, nothing out of the usual for you. However, Peter did speak up saying you seemed a bit jumpier and a little bit down and out than usual. Again, it chalked up to you missing Steve really bad. Then there was the matter of Stephen and Wanda.

They were your last victims before you escaped. The pair had gone through extensive questioning. However, they both had the same story. Wanda and Strange had tried to calm you down, but things got out of hand and you ended up lashing out at them.

Steve hit a brick wall at this point. How could no one know what happened to you? He tried hacking into security cameras from that day, but he was met with a disappointing glare from Tony and a handful of security to escort him out of the room meant for their investigation.

What was there even to investigate? You were gone and as far as anybody knew, there was no trace of you in New York, the United States, and pretty much any other country that agents were sent out to look for you. Steve guessed they only continued because Bucky needed to get some sort of justice or closure, but he swears that he was attacked for no reason. Everyone knew about their slight tension, but thought it wouldn’t go as far as leaving Bucky hospitalized.

Bucky kept quiet after Steve came back. Truth be told, he feared what his friend might do to him if the truth got out. He made sure to delete any evidence he could off his computer of you. When he visited you those last days, he managed to fuck up something in the control room that cut off the audio of him talking. No one had called him in to question his meeting with you, and Bucky was relieved because he needed more time to come up with the perfect excuse.

Now all he had to do was get rid of Wanda and Stephen, or get them off his back. He knows that they must know something. Tensions around the compound have been high around the three of them. The pair had been cold towards him after the attack, only going so far as signing a ‘Get Well Soon’ card and pitching in a few dollars for a thing of flowers, but that was all.

Wanda and Strange wasted no time after their questioning was over. They got right to work trying to compile all the evidence they could to expose Bucky. Unfortunately, it was proving to be more difficult than expected.

Bucky’s room had been blocked off by agents. He had to change rooms until the investigation was cleared. Everything in the room remained untouched, but no Avengers, besides Tony, had access to the room.

Strange and Wanda even went in from another angle and enlisted Peter to help find that security footage, but so far everything was blocked off to them. It seemed like there was one dead end after another. If the pair weren’t fast in their findings, they might never get justice for you. Even if you were long gone, Bucky shouldn’t get away with what he did.

No matter what, the pair of Avengers new they needed to finish the job you attempted to start… and Stephen Strange and Wanda Maximoff will be damned if justice wasn’t served.

~Meanwhile~

You emptied your stomach of breakfast later in the day. Same as yesterday, the day before that, and the day before that… something’s got to be up?

Maybe it was nerves? That could explain a lot seeing as the nightmares weren’t letting up anytime soon.

Seeing images of Bucky Barnes every time you close your eyes led to a lot of sleepless nights. It led to much more than sleepless nights, but you tried your best to listen to Carol’s advice and put the past behind you. Sadly, it would take a lot more than blocking that vile man from your thoughts.

Carol saw how you were feeling sick everyday. She also tried to put the worst out of her head, but curiosity piqued. It was important for her to tell you, but it was also important that you found out now before you were back on your home planet alone and scared.

When she first suggested that you may be pregnant, you laughed in her face, then you cried, then were angry, then depressed. There was no possible way, right? You remembered to take your birth control every night, right?

Okay, now you were freaking out. There was one night you might’ve forgot to take it, and that time spent in your jail cell, and maybe one or twice while on a mission.

Now you were panicking.

You forgot some days to take birth control, you were off it for a couple of days too. Bucky was relentless. The possibilities were leading towards confirmation. Every sign of pregnancy pointed to yes.

You tried to deny it for a week, but as you looked at the remnants of today’s breakfast being flushed down the toilet again you collected yourself and came towards acceptance. Coming out of the bathroom, Carol was right there with a quirked brow. She was about to say something, but you opened your mouth first.

“FUCK!”

[rayofdawnworld]

Fallen Rebel

Hello, here I am, again with another Dark MCU Kink of the Month fic. This one isn’t a one-shot, though so I’m afraid you’ll have to wait a bit for the naughty parts. 

Also, I have noticed a lack of Hawkeye fics, Dark or otherwise which is a pity because Jeramy Renner is in my opinion a SNAK! So... Although it's not Hawkeye, (though that will be coming) Heres one of Jeramy's characters. William Brandt. DARK!William Brandt.

I would like to thank @imanuglywombat for not only making me this beautiful Moodboard but for actually managing to make out what I wanted, out of my very convoluted request.  And I would like to thank @mcudarklibrary​ for hosting this challenge. Can't wait for next month's kink. 

Without further due, ONWARDS TO THE FIC!

Trigger Warnings: 

Mentions Sex Toys. (Blink and you'll miss it.)

Brief Mention of masturbation. (Blink and you'll miss it.) 

Control/authority Kink 

Fallen Rebel

Capter One

She had been SO stupid. She couldn’t even claim that she didn’t know what she was doing, because she did. She wasn’t dumb. She had been her high school valedictorian. She didn’t need her father's connections to get into Harvard. Of course, she knew what she had done. A senator's daughter getting mixed up with Anarchists. Especially followers of the John Larkin Manifesto? And then just to top it all off, agreeing to a foursome. Why? Because Daddy didn’t pay enough attention to her? Mommy was more interested in her charities? Because the hansom intelligence analyst that followed her father everywhere ignored her eighteen-year-old advances? She knew that none of it would matter, knew that none of it would work, yet she did it anyway. 

Lillian Wilkinson looked at herself in her bathroom mirror. 

Her life had gone to shit. First the frat boys she fucked sent a recording to her father, blackmailing him. Then he found out that she had joined an Anarchist group that had been funded by a Russian terrorist cell. She hadn’t known about the cell, her father believed her when she told him, but the damage was already done. That's when she found out that he wasn't only the Secretary of Defense but the Head of a semi-secret agency called the IMF. He called in some favors to one of the IT experts in the IMF to erase all copies of the Sex tape and put the fear of God into the frat boys and erase all evidence of her involvement with any kind of group, Anarchist, or otherwise. He then lectured her for over an hour before informing her that, no, she wasn’t going into Environmental Law, she was going to finish her college year and then claim that the pressure had been too much before dropping out and going to work as some lower-ranking pencil pusher within the IMF. It had been all taken care of. Her actions had put his place within the IMF in jeopardy compromising him. And that had been the last time she had seen him. He had gone to Russia the same evening with the promise that they would finish their conversation when he came back. He never did. Her mother blamed her to some extent. She believed that he had left early for his trip because of their daughter's actions. Trying to convince her mother otherwise was futile. The fact that she had kept to her father's plan not having much of a choice, just sent her mother into a greater spiral of resentment. What would her friends think? 

She hadn't spoken to her mother in over three years. The grieving widow had moved on less than a year after her father's death. She had tried to keep in touch with her mother but, she soon understood that there was no place for her in her mother's new life. 

She did her job, as a legal secretary, she was only one year shy of completing her degree, after all. When the IMF was shut down she had gone on to work as a data analyst for the C.I.A. 

In other words, she put the hard copies of the files away. That's when she suspected it happened. Somewhere in between Brandt, her father's old Intelligence Analyst, becoming an IMF agent and then a C.I.A. agent and being promoted to head of mission control when the IMF was reinstated, he somehow got wind of her Rebelouse Fuck Up. It was only after the inner scandal that was August Walker, that Brandt got all the ammunition and the proof he needed.

August Walker WAS John Larkin. HIS manifesto was what jump-started everything that happened since the bombing in Russia, including her father's death. Solomon Kane, The Apostles, all of it. Everything even remotely connected to any of it was lethal. Even if it had just been a stupid mistake. She would at best, go to jail in some C.I.A. or IMF black site or at worst be eliminated. 

That's when she lost all agency. She was no longer an independent person. Being William Brandts’ obedient minion was far better than the alternative.

And that's how she found herself in her bathroom in nothing but a towel waiting for William to send her a message with instructions on what to wear for the day still flushed from the hot water and her stress relief activity. 

It had started small. Who she could interact with at work, what time she had to be at home, it then escalated to what she could eat and wear to work. Soon after, it spiraled into who she could talk to anywhere, what she could eat, and at what time, the length and type of her exercise regimen. She had none in the past but she did now, overseen by her Lord and Master every Friday night, what she could wear even at home, what perfume she could wear if she could wear perfume. It reached the point that except breathing, dreaming, and thinking, one Miss Lillian Wilkinson had to do everything William Brandt said.

 Just before she lost complete control over her life, she had tried to rebel. Again stupid on her part. She had gone with her boyfriend to Napa Valley for the weekend. When she got home, she was shocked to find it empty with only a piece of paper on the kitchen counter with an address on it. 

It turned out that it was her new apartment. With new furniture, clothes, all cataloged in numbers, and letters, amenities, food, hell she even had a new car, phone, and phone number. The car and phone had locators, the apartment had cameras, her reward for trying to assert herself. He even took her toys away. He had ordered her to leave her boyfriend Or else.

She didn’t want to find out what Brandt would do if she disobeyed him, so she broke up with her boyfriend of three years. She was just thankful that the bathrooms didn’t have any cameras. At least she had a bit of privacy. Everything was luxurious. No, one would ever be able to accuse Brandt of not treating his new pet very well. She had more nice things now than when she was with her parents. Pity the price was her autonomy.  

 She looked at her phone as it dinged. Time to see what Lord Brandt's demands were today. 

Use your white business dress nº 15, black heels nº6, no perfume, no jewelry, minimal makeup, NO underwear. Today you eat breakfast with me. You have 15 minutes.

No underwear? What the hell? She asked herself shocked. And what was this about breakfast? This was a new development. Sure he would tell her what sort of underwear to wear, and if he doubted that she wasn’t wearing what he had ordered he would check, there had been an embarrassing scene once, where Brandt had manhandled her into the bathroom to check if she had worn the underwear he had ordered. She was sure her coworkers assumed, wrongly, that she and Brandt were having an affair. She used to get dressed in the bathroom, to have some privacy, now she just got her underthings on and dressed the rest of the clothes in her room. Walking into her closet and grabbing the dress, she scurried back into the bathroom to put it on. 

She had a sinking feeling that things were about to get worse.