#yandere steve rogers x you

[fxckn-sxck-fr]

Hii!! Just a thought, would any of the yanderes baby trap a particularly difficult reader?

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐂 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘-����𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆…

!!! GN reader, children (lmao), manipulation, coercion into parenting, delusions, slight threats, impregnation mention (it’s not the reader, though), obligatory Tim Drake warning, mentions of possible harm to children.

I’m assuming you just mean the comic book yanderes. Let’s see!

I kept the actual baby-acquisition vague. Could be one or both of y’all’s biological kid, could be adopted, could be kidnapped. Who knows! I also gave them ratings on how they would be as a father, cuz why not.

Bruce Wayne: Yes. Absolutely. This is Bruce we’re talking about. You know, the guy who’s never beating the empty-nester allegations? As long as you’re with him, you’re bound to end up with a kid one way or another. Whether he set out to baby trap you or ended up with a child by chance, he is for sure going to hold it over your head. This kid is going to have both of their parents in their life, biological or not. It’s like a new kid spawns in the manor every time you get even a little bit rebellious. (7/10 father; still has his issues, but he’s learned from his past mistakes.)

Bucky Barnes: Okay, I don’t think he’d initially see himself as a family man. Just never crossed his mind, given his life as the Winter Solider. If he did end up with a kid, it would definitely be by accident. But when that happens, he’ll start to give it a little more thought. The idea of a family… it sounds so domestic; so normal. Uh-oh. Instant baby fever. Now he wants even more kids, and he’ll acquire them by any means necessary. Doesn’t manipulate you with any children, but you may feel obligated to stick around; the Winter Soldier does NOT seem like the type to be good at parenting. (5/10 father; doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he’s at least enthusiastic.)

Clark Kent: This man wants the classic nuclear family life. While he wouldn’t set out to baby-trap you, it will inadvertently happen with his desire for children. He wants to be tackled by at least 3 kids every time he comes home! And if he’s already had Jon, I can see him making it his mission to find the perfect spouse; that’s how he finds you!! Oh, you’re not good with kids? Doesn’t matter. This man is delusional as fuck. It’s not like he sees you for who you are, anyway. Keep in mind that he’s projecting an idealized version of a spouse onto you. (10/10 father; amazing with kids and is willing to pull your weight when you’re being difficult.)

Dick Grayson: If it comes down to it, he will. Any form of manipulation is fair game, and hey… he’s always dreamed of starting a family of his own one day. Even if you’re not big on kids, he’s willing to play the long game to try and get you to change your mind. And if you never do? Welp. That’s too bad. You’re still gonna end up with a child somehow (Dick’s got plenty of ways to make sure of that). When he finally gets what he wants, he’s for sure using the “think of our kid(s)” card any chance he gets. (9/10 father; he’s a family man at heart, and everyone around him thinks it was only a matter of time.)

Hal Jordan: A bit iffy on starting a family. He doesn’t hate kids, he just isn’t sure if he’s ready. However, as soon as he realizes a child in your life could make you more compliant, he quickly starts to sing a different tune. Now he’s all for having kids!! He’d be obsessed with the power it gives, every interaction between you two having that subtle warning of, “try and escape me now.” Papa-Bear Hal is not a force to be reckoned with. You may find yourself not liking the consequences of trying to break up this happy little family. (8/10 father; there’s a bit of a learning curve for him, but he’ll eventually fall into the groove of it.)

Jaime Reyes: Nope. The thought of having kids makes him sick to his stomach. He knows there’s something wrong with him… god only knows what would happen to his kids. The what if’s would drive him insane, easily trumping the possible gains of baby-trapping you. Sure, it might be a bit tempting — and he’ll admit, a small part of him wishes he could one day be a father — but not only would he feel extremely guilty, he also knows that it’s a bad fucking idea. Hopefully, he can continue to ignore Khaji Da’s own thoughts on the matter. It doesn’t matter how important “continuing the Reyes legacy” is, he’s not taking that risk. (6/10 father; despite his fits of spiraling paranoia, he needs to give himself a little more credit).

Peter Parker: Honestly, it’s a toss up. He’s got his concerns with being a father, but thinking about it makes him all giddy inside. I think this would be another case of accidental baby-trapping. He didn’t set out to do it, but hey… if it works, it works. Any “but what about our kid(s)” that he throws at you is by no means intentional manipulation; he’s just genuinely worried what would happen if you left. Then again, I can also see him slightly doing it. As soon as he realizes it works, he’ll keep it in mind. A thing he’ll tuck away for later and only use when absolutely needed. (9/10 father; loves his kid(s) and would do anything for them).

Remy LeBeau: Yeah, probably. As long as he’s in a position where he can have a kid or two, he’ll go for it. Remy secretly longs for a family (though he’ll never admit it), and if starting one means earning your compliance? Well, shit… that’s just killing two birds with one stone! But again, this depends on if he’s in a position where kids are viable. Should he still have some unfinished business to attend to, he’s not gonna be dumb enough to have kids. Growing up in the Thieves Guild taught him a thing or two about why that’s a bad idea. Otherwise, you are not immune to a sudden baby-acquisition by yours truly. (7/10 father; he gives chill baby daddy vibes who tries his best to be there for his kids.)

Scott Summers: Oh, yeah. It’s guaranteed to happen. This man is committed to having a semi-normal life, no matter how unrealistic that may seem. He wants a family. He wants you to be obedient. He wants a sense of normalcy, goddamnit. Y’all are having a kid whether you want one or not. And he leans heavily towards having a biological kid. If you don’t have the means to get pregnant — or fight tooth and nail against the idea — he’s 100% impregnating someone else and stealing their baby. Yes, it’s a crazy idea. Yes, he’s willing to go that far. Don’t test him. He’ll yell and shout at you about how you need to be there for this fucking kid, even if it’s not yours. It’s in your best interest if you comply. (6/10 father; he’s chronically fighting against the absent father allegations and MIGHT be winning… results are still pending.)

Steve Roger: Poor guy wants to settle down so bad. Yes, he’d baby-trap you, but I can see him feeling guilty for it. He knows it’s wrong, and it would especially weigh down on him if you didn’t even want kids in the first place. But he wants a family so bad. He can’t help it!! And as big of a piece of shit he may feel afterwards, he’ll do what’s necessary to make you behave. You need to be here for your kids! If a little bit of manipulation makes you stay, then so be it. He’s surprisingly good at guilt-tripping, making a good case with the image he has to uphold as Captain America. What would people think if they learned he was a single father? What assumptions would they make about you if you left him? Society might not be all that kind to you. It’s best to just stay. (8/10 father; can get a little busy, but he’s definitely there when it matters the most.)

Tim Drake: Not a fan of kids. There might be a chance of him coming up with a baby-trapping scheme during one of his weird fits, but let’s hope he snaps out of it before it’s too late. Do NOT let bro be a father. On the off-chance that he does acquire a kid… pray. And I mean PRAY. His version of baby-trapping ranges from “but this kid needs you” to “I will fucking kill this kid if you leave.” A situation like this means you have to familiarize yourself with Tim’s mood swings. Be compliant at first, then when he starts to second-guess himself, try to gently coax him into giving this child a better home. Hopefully, that poor kid will survive everything unscathed. Tim wouldn’t know what to do with himself if something bad happened to them. (0/10 father; he’d actually do an alright job when he’s mentally stable, but I think everyone — including Tim himself — would agree that he’d do more harm than good raising a kid.)

Wally West: Yup. No hesitation. As soon as the thought crosses his mind, he will get to scheming immediately. His goal would be to make it seem like a natural evolution, even if you’re not keen on the idea of kids. Wally is such a master at masking his manipulation, to the point where it’s unclear if he’s actually baby-trapping you or not, and by the time you’ve realize it… welp… too late. Arguing with him is absolutely frustrating, cuz Wally West does not argue; he smooth talks until makes you feel like an idiot. Wanna know how cruel he is? Those kids will grow up to be accomplices in his manipulation, whether they know it or not. No one can put a stop to his fuckery. (9/10 parent; turns out to be a phenomenal father, I just have to take a point off simply because raising your kids to be just as manipulative as him probably isn’t good.)

[highonmarvel]

Dilated [2] | Food

Steve Rogers bumps into a woman whose pupils are larger than normal.

} previous part: [Scattered]

This is a dark fic. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. Content warnings found here!

[Note: I can’t believe it’s been nearly a year, what the fuck is wrong with me]

“I’m… fine…” you manage between shaky breaths. “I’m fine,” you repeat, trying to be firm but you end up sounding agitated, which he frowns at.

“You’re not. You need help.”

As if you don’t know that, as if you haven’t been told a million times, and as if you haven’t tried. What can he offer you that centre after centre can’t? Sure, he’s a superhero, but how much experience does he have with the everyday person? It begins to anger you, that a man who deals with intergalactic forces therefore thinks he’s automatically qualified to help with the complex issue of addiction. Who the fuck does he think he is? The Avengers only deal with physical threats, and big ones, at that—what can he do for you? A woman who’s given up on getting her life back on track—a life she didn’t even like, mind you, even before all this. If anything, you feel his interdimensional experience renders him less qualified in the intricacies of the human mind.

“Thank you, for your concern,” is all you can reply without being overly rude. You pull your knees to your chest and shiver, drying sweat suddenly making you feel cold, or just on edge. Steve leaves for a bit and returns with a blanket, which he drapes over your shoulders. How did he know where to get a blanket? Was he snooping around? Did he find something?

You pull the corners of the sheet covering you into one of your fists, sitting on top of your shaking knees.

How do you get him to leave? He doesn’t seem to want to, and could you really ask him to do that after he was so kind? And how can you just tell Captain America to get out?

“I’ll check myself into rehab tomorrow,” you lie. “Just wanted one more night, I guess. I know I have to stop, I’m not in denial or anything.”

“If you were going to check yourself in you would have done that already,” he counters, with a look halfway between an eye roll and a frown in nature, like a teacher disappointed in a schoolchild for passing off an excuse as to why they didn’t do their homework. “What are you on?”

You shrug, because you genuinely don’t know; a few months ago, you overheard some people at a club saying Sharon’s got the good stuff and followed them to her, asked her to give you whatever she gave them, and it hit, so you never asked for the name.

You can’t tell if he believes you or not before he swerves to his next question. “Who do you get it from?”

You pause, unsure if you should say; of course you could: getting Sharon in trouble with an Avenger might be good revenge, but you know she’s a little more powerful than she lets on. You narrow your eyes at him. “Why should I tell you?”

He sits, leans forward—forearms resting on his muscular thighs—with a stoic expression. “Because if you don’t, I’ll make your life hell.”

A chill runs down your spine and you pull the blanket around you tighter still.

“I think you should leave. I don’t have anything to say to you.”

“But I have a lot to say to you.”

You’re almost in awe at this change from the Steve Rogers you see on the news. Sure, celebrities are fake all the time, but he’s a superhero—furthermore, he’s some American Golden Boy: the absolute definition of The Boy Next Door, he represents the American ideal.

Yet now, now he might as well be holding you hostage in your own home until you listen to him, those bright blue eyes reporters and cameras adore are suddenly dark and scary.

“Look,” he goes on, voice low, “I was gonna do this an easier way, be nice, I just wanted your help.” Why would he need the help of some random woman? You are one hundred thousand percent sure there are literally billions of people more qualified than you. “But now…” his jaw clenches and he looks away, bobbing his knee up and down a few times before settling and turning back to you, gaze holding some unexpected and intense sincerity to it. “Now, I need to start making orders. What Sharon’s involved in is bigger than whatever you know, but she’s also been really close to us—the Avengers—and will know basically any move we make; SHIELD, even our most top secret agents, she knows about them.”

His switch from threatening to sincere seriousness makes you hesitate.

“And so,” he goes on, “We need someone on the inside, and someone she’d never suspect.”

“Do you honestly think I’m in any condition to work?”

“Sweetheart, I don’t give a shit. This is bigger than you, or me, or any single person. Sometimes we have to do things we don’t want to do for the greater good.”

This time, you can’t repress the disgusted snort you let out, unsteadily climbing to your feet. “Mr Rogers, I thank you for your service to this great nation, but I don’t love this soil enough to bow down to risk my life,” you say as you make your way to the front door. You open it and look at him expectantly.

Surprisingly, he stands and walks over to the door without protest. He stops just before he steps into the corridor, leaning down to speak into your ear, his voice having dropped to a dangerously low tone, “You risk your life by saying No to me.”

Your breath catches in your throat for a moment and your lips part as he slowly straightens himself again and fixes his jacket over his shoulders, tugging just harsh enough so you get the message. And you can do nothing but stare up at him with wide eyes through wide pupils, shaking slightly, but you can’t tell if it’s because you haven’t had your fix or if you’re scared.

He gives a tight-lipped sort-of smile before leaving and closing the door behind him. For good measure, you place your palm against it, straining to hear for what would be his disappearing footsteps, but you’re so unable to focus you can’t tell if the rhythmic sounds are your heartbeats or his steps. With shaky hands, you put the key in the lock and turn it, not before dropping it a few times. And you can’t help but feel a little silly doing it—as if a locked door would keep Captain America out. With a sigh, you push off the door and make your way to the kitchen, swaying as you rummage through the little food you have for painkillers, your head throbbing like it’s pumping constant blood straight to pound right against your eardrums. You pop a few into your hand and throw your head back, pretty much downing them without water; the powdery taste wouldn’t bother you so much (in fact, you’re not really sure why your sense of taste is weakened) if it didn’t invoke a weird burning sensation scratching against your throat, which you counteract by downing a large glass of water.

Suddenly, it’s unbelievably hot, and you drop the blanket from your shoulders, carelessly stepping out of it as you stumble out of the kitchen, vision swaying as you feel your way to your bedroom. There’s definitely something a little off, but with your other issue, you really can’t be all that bothered why your bedroom no longer feels like a safe space, but a representation of how stuck you are.

✯

When you wake up the next day, after throwing up a few times in the bathtub, you actually feel better—only a little, but light no longer blinds you, makes you hiss like a vampire, and it seems your body temperature is adjusting to normal; you’re not longer excessively sweating and shivering and unable to decide if you’re going to freeze to death or overheat and melt into a puddle on the floor. You decide you need to get some food down if you want to be in any condition to go for a walk, a little one, just to feel like you’ve got some control and can function as a regular person, or at least pass for one.

You freeze in the doorway of your kitchen: the blanket is gone. Your senses must still be out of whack, because you didn’t hear anything, or smell anything, but on the counter sits a plate of eggs and a glass of orange juice, with a note tacked onto the cup. You tentatively step into the living room, eyes flicking up and down for signs of life. Nothing. The front door is still locked, too. You know it had to have been Steve who made the meal, and you seriously doubt he would poison you, but something about it feels dangerous, like if you eat it, you’re certainly losing a game of some kind, or sending a subtle message of submission, which he’ll no doubt take and run with. But you really need to eat. You pick up the plate and walk over to the bin, contemplating whether to scrape off the food or just be grateful.

“Don’t be rude.”

You shriek and let go of the dish, but instead of shattering to the floor, a strong arm catches it and the voice lets out a chuckle.

“You clearly didn’t read the note,” he scoffs as he sets the plate back down on the counter. He raises his eyebrows at you and rolls his eyes. “Your heart’s gonna explode if you don’t calm down. Really—eat.”

You flinch when he puts his hands on your shoulders from behind, but are helpless as he steers you towards the barstool at the counter, giving you a pat on the shoulder when you sit and walking back to the other side, watching you expectantly.

You avert his gaze and drop your eyes down to the eggs he’s clearly carefully prepared and plated, a neat presentation sitting in the centre of the plate. He places a fork down next to you and the soft clutter feels too much of a strain on your ears, making you wince.

“I know the feeling,” he says. “Sensitive hearing. Took me a little bit to get used to it—back in the day, your thumping heart would have driven me crazy.”

Again, he brings that up, and your face twists, something like disgust vaguely playing at the invasion of privacy. As if being in your home wasn’t enough, the respite you could have taken in your thoughts is exposed, too—sure, he can’t read minds, but his irritating (and nearly scary) ability to notice the slight changes in your physiology might as well grant him the ability to detect changes in your mood.

You pick up the fork, gripping it tightly in your hand, digging your elbow into the marble countertop as you think, feeling pressure from his stare on you. You clear your throat and instead turn your attention to the glass of orange juice, with a sticky note attached to it. You lightly tug it off and bring it to your eyes, trying so fucking hard to get the letters to stop swimming.

You’ll feel better is written in cursive with a smiley face next to it.

Your gaze flickers up to him, and he offers a smile like the one he drew. You drop the piece of paper and direct your attention back to the food. You can’t refuse it anymore. Carefully, you pick a little with the fork and bring it to your lips, closing your eyes as you chew and then swallow. You can’t really taste it, but after a few seconds of it going down, you feel a little better, like the fog in your mind is slowly clearing up with each bite you take. When you finish the plate relatively quickly, you look up at him skeptically—of course it was expected you’d feel better if you got some food down, but you can’t really believe it’s just that that’s making you so much better so much quicker.

He winks at you as you take a sip of the juice. “You scratch my back, I scratch yours.” He grins. “That stuff would be a lot more potent if you were half as decent right now. It’s nearly as strong a dose as I got all those years ago.”

⍟

[my beloved taglist: @thehydraethereal, @cowboysnbugs, @buck-star, @keito-123, @vogueprincess, @cjand10]

[yandere-wishes]

Normal person: " Whose your favorite Disney prince?"

Me: "Oh, you know the usual..Tony Stark,Darth Maul, Steve Rogers, Anakin Skywalker, Thor Odinson, Kylo Ren, Bucky Barnes, Luke Skywalker, Loki Odinson,Din Djarin"

Them: Those aren't really Disney Princes...

Me: Did I stutter??

[yanderemcu]

Yandere Steve Rogers Alphabet

A=Affection (How do they show their love for you) 

Cuddling,hand holding,kissing,hugging,holding,arm over shoulder

B=Bound (How much do they share with you) 

Wants no secrets between you two

C=Cruel (How do they punish you) 

Spanking,isolation, yelling,starving,force feeding,takes things from you

D-Desire (How long until they take you) 

3 months

E=Even (To what level are they dominant) 

Same level as you

F=Future(What are their future plans for the two of you) 

Get married. Have a kid or two. Get a dog.

G=Gifts (What do they give you) 

Old stuff,stuff animals, CDS,sweets,food,flowers,jewerrly

H=Hell (Worst experience with them) 

His punishments, his killings,his jealous moments, his angry moments

I=Insane (How insane did they get because of you) 

9/10

J=Jealous(How easily do they get jealous) 

Very easily

K=Killing (How do they handle killing) 

Strangles them or throws his shield at him

L=Language (What is their love language) 

All of them

M=Manipulation(What could you do to get your way) 

Show him a bit of affection,be sweet to him or do a chore

N=No (To what strength would they go for you) 

He'd do anything for you

O=Obsessed (How obsessed are they with you) 

10/10

P=Pet names(What do they call you)  

Doll,dollface,angel,angelface,dove,darling,honey,sweetheart,babe

Q=Quit (How would they act if you died) 

This would break Steve

R=Runaway (What are your chances to get away) 

Follows you and brings you back home

S=Stalking (How good are they at stalking you) 

8.5/10

T=Type  (What type of yandere are they) 

Stalker,Obsessive,Caring, Sweet,Possessive, Delusional, Overprotective

U=Unique (Different from other yanderes) 

He's a bit old fashioned

V=Vine (How would they feel if you fought back) 

Punishes you over and over again

W=Will (Would they do anything against their loves will) 

Ties you up,force feeding, holding,forces you to do things

X=X-Ray (How much do they keep hidden from you) 

Nothing

Y=Yearning (How much do they want you) 

7/10

Z=Zzz (How do you two fall asleep together) 

Cuddles you tightly and closely in bed

[yanderefics-recs]

Dark!Cheaters pt 2

for my besties that were asking for a part 2

Stress Relief @miyaagis (tumblr)

Remarks: hwbsgahahha this one is actually pretty sad 😭 basically your husband oikawa cheats on you with iwa and uses stress from work as an excuse. Try reading the asks answered by the author, you'll see a bit of the yandere sides but the oneshot is just angst (and i love it)

Run for Cover by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor (tumblr) (finished)

Remarks: This one touches more on abusive behavior! Steve Rogers is your perfect picture husband and he treats you like shit. Trust me, you're gonna be on your toes reading this lol

No Plan by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor (ao3)

Remarks: Dark bucky. Just abusive behavior so like... be warned.

Yan!Cheater Series by @droaxa (tumblr)

Comments: for some reason tumblr is lagging and not allowing me to paste links so just check out their page and masterlist and you’ll see it!! I love their work, it hits all the right spot

I Loved You Too Late by @Melody and @Sweetermae (quotev)

Comments: OOF ANGST ANGST ANGST!! Not an x-reader tho but it still is just as enjoyable!

[reareaotaku]

Masterlist III | COMPLETED

Finished: June 7, 2024 [12:27 PM CDT] *= Slightly NSFW/NSFW Masterlist I Masterlist II Masterlist IV

I Am Not Okay with This

Stanley Barber

Stanley Barber Headcanons Late Night Calls Backseat Driving*

Stranger Things

Mike Wheeler

My Sweet Valentine I Loathe You [Mike's POV]* Mike Wheeler & Jane 'Eleven' Hopper Headcanons Jealous Mike Wheeler Headcanons Brother's Best Friend*

Lucas Sinclair

My Sweet Valentine

Jane 'Eleven' Hopper

My Sweet Valentine Mike Wheeler & Jane 'Eleven' Hopper Headcanons Jealous Eleven

Maxine 'Max' Mayfield

My Sweet Valentine

Billy Hargrove

My Sweet Valentine

Steve 'The Hair' Harrington

My Sweet Valentine Mean Little Boy I'm in Love with You

Nancy Wheeler

My Sweet Valentine Nancy Wheeler & Robin Buckley Headcanons

Robin Buckley

My Sweet Valentine Nancy Wheeler & Robin Buckley Headcanons

Johnathan Byers

Johnathan Byers Headcanons

IT

Richie Tozier

Richie Tozier Headcanons

Karate Kid

Daniel Larusso

Daniel Larusso Headcanons*

The Umbrella Academy

Five Hargreeves

I Can't Lose You Sick Reader

The Goldfinch

Boris Pavlikovsky

Run Away Boris NSFW Headcanons* Injured Reader Mean! Boris Headcanons You're so Drunk*

Theodore 'Theo' Decker

Run Away Theo Decker Headcanons

Celebrities/Influencers

Matt Sturniolo

Matt Headcanons

Blue Beetle

Jaime 'Blue Beetle' Reyes

Jaime 'Blue Beetle' Reyes Headcanons

The Turning

Miles Fairchild

Miles Fairchild SFW/NSFW Headcanons* No Where 2 Run* Reader is Sick School is a Bore [PT 2 of School Girls] Made into a Woman* [Pt 3 of School Girls & School is a Bore] She's the Only Girl I wanna Love* [Pt 2 of Mary is the Girl that I wanna Fuck] Soft Schoolboy Headcanons Maid of the Rich Kind Nanny! Reader* Stalker 2 Be

Ben 10

Ben Tennyson

Yandere! Ben Tennyson Headcanons

Clone High

I Am Not a Clone Series

Where the Fuck am I? [Part 1]

Fear Street

Christine 'Ziggy' Berman

Christine 'Ziggy' Berman Headcanons

Nick Goode

Nick Goode Headcanons

Rick & Morty

Morty Smith

Morth Smith Headcanons Evil Morty Headcanons

Scooby Doo

Fred Jones

Fred Jones Headcanons Fred Jones Mystery Inc Headcanons

Hex Girls

We're the Hex Girls & We're Going to Put a Spell on You

Corpse Bride

Emily the Corpse Bride

Yandere! Emily Headcanons

Young Sheldon

Georgie Cooper

Georgie Cooper Headcanons

When You Finish Saving the World

Ziggy Katz

Yandere! Ziggy Katz Headcanons Jealous! Headcanons

We Are Who We Are

Fraser Wilson

Fraser Wilson Headcanons

Shazam

Freddy Freeman

Freddy Freeman Headcanons

Game of Thrones

Daenerys Targeryan

Male! Daenerys Targeryan Headcanons

Ghostbusters

Trevor Spengler

Jealous Headcanons

Don’t Tell a Soul

Joey

Joey Headcanons

Diary of a Wimpy Kid

Rodrick Heffley

Crazy Party What if Rodrick was Jealous?

Wednesday

Wednesday Addams

I Don't Love You Singing my Love [Pt 2 of I Don't Love You] I Know You Got Issues & I Do Too [Male! Wednesday Addams] Male Wednesday Headcanons +drabble

Spiderman

Gwen Stacy

Gwen Stacy Headcanons

Scream

Stu Macher

Stu Macher Headcanons*

Batman

Dick 'Richard' Grayson

Save Me, Baby

Damian Wayne

Superboy vs Robin Damian Wayne Headcanons Love in High Places [Pt 2 of Superboy vs Robin]

Barbara 'Batgirl' Gordon

Barbara Gordon Headcanons

Tim 'Red Robin' Drake

Tim Drake Headcanons

Superman

Jon Kent

Superboy vs Robin Love in High Places [Pt 2 of Superboy vs Robin]

Clark 'Superman' Kent

Superman Headcanons

Lolirock

Iris

Genderbend Iris Headcanons

Shrek

Arthur Pendragon

Arthur Pendragon Headcanons

Kim Possible

Kim Possible

Schoolboy Crush

Who Framed Roger Rabbit

Jessica Rabbit

Jessica Rabbit Headcanons

Mario

Princess Peach

Princess Peach Headcanons

Princess Rosalina

Princess Rosalina Headcanons

OC

Prince Alexander

Yandere Prince Headcanons

Ace

Grumpy x Sunshine Headcanons

Nightmare on Elm Street

Glen Lantz

Touch Me

That's Not My Neighbor

Francis 'Milkman' Mosses

Milkman Headcanons*

Goofy Movie/ An Extremely Goofy Movie

Max Goof

Max Goof Headcanons He was a Skater Boy

The Lion King

Kovu

Kovu Headcanons

Beetlejuice

Astrid Deetz

Astrid Deetz Headcanons

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

'Leo' Leonardo

Leonardo Headcanons

'Donnie' Donatello

I Do Not Like You

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Control

Pairing: Dark Steve Rogers x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

SUMMARY: Steve takes what he wants, as simple as that.

WARNINGS: Non-Con.

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

--

Steve fucks you hard, his big cock punctuating rough thrusts that shake your entire body. 

“You’re so fucking tight, babe. Been saving that sweet cunt for me?” he moans to your ear, fingers tightly holding the back of your neck, keeping your face palmed against the mattress, muffling the sounds of your weak whines. “That’s my good girl.” 

You helplessly curl your fingers around the sheet, trying your best to ignore him. The tears have long dried but a new batch makes its way to your eyes when it gets overwhelming. 

Why you? Why did it have to be you? There are millions of girls in the world yet you had to be unlucky enough to catch Steve’s attention. 

A particularly deep thrust has you gasping for air,  feeling a sharp pain close to your cervix.

He viciously pounds into you as if it’s a need, his legs force yours to spread even further as he buries himself to the hilt of your poor cunt even more. 

Steve doesn’t falter his violent pace, the bed squeaking at every movement of his.  

“Fuck, baby. Can’t hold much longer.” he grunts, his teeth catching up to your shoulder, painfully biting the skin. You press your lips together, trying to hold back a desperate cry. 

It’s almost over, you remind yourself. Steve’s pace quickens, frantically fucking you.

His groans grow in volume until he finally reaches his peak, with a final thrust. A sense of warmness fills your sore pussy as Steve halts his movements. 

Underneath him, you close your eyes, feeling pain shooting from every single limb. Steve moves his hand to your hair, caressing it as he presses a kiss to your shoulder. 

“You did so good.” he whispers and a wave of repulse floods you. “Hope you’re up for a few more rounds.”

[fxckn-sxck-fr]

id lovee to hear ur rankings of the comic book men from appearing to be the most normal to something is obviously wrong w them (if that makes sense... like,,,, who is and isnt an obv red flag)

ur writing keeps me fed :3

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐂 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐆𝐒…

!!! GN reader, manipulation, gaslighting, mentions of stalker-ish picture-taking, mentions of schizophrenia and anxiety, poor treatment of mental illness, mentions of violent behaviors, murderous Bucky Barnes, Tim Drake (he’s just a problem), mentions of suicidal tendencies, can be translated as platonic or romantic.

EAAAAATT!!!!! EEEEAAAAATTTT!!!!!!!!! EAT MY WRITING!!!! CONSUME IT!!!!!!!!!!!

Remember, this is from least to most, meaning we’ll talk about the seemingly well-adjusted folks first and gradually move up to the, “okay, what the fuck is wrong with him” peeps.

Wally West: The way he’s playing everyone like a fiddle is downright disrespectful. He’s filled to the brim with green flags, easily appearing as one of the safest guys on the planet. Even when you start to suspect something, you have to constantly second guess yourself, because come on… it’s Wally. What the fuck can he do wrong? Don’t even bother voicing any of your concerns. No one — and I mean no one — will believe you. Having problems with Wally West? The embodiment of a warm summer evening? Damn, that sounds like a you problem. Poor Wally, having to deal with a crazy weirdo.

Dick Grayson: He’s got an amazing personality and pretty privilege working for him. At this rate, the masses manipulate themselves. Only those who are extremely perceptive will pick up on the cold glint in his eyes, and even then, the mystique only adds to his charm. By the time you realize he’s been hiding a darker side, it’s too late. Everyone’s too captivated by how endearing Dick is to hear you out. Even those who know him personally — who know about his struggles and rough patches — think you’re full of shit. Dick’s an emotionally mature man, so why don’t you just talk it out with him?

Steve Rogers: This is a bit unfair, considering the leverage he’s granted as Captain America, but hey… work what you got. While it may seem obvious to you that he’s way too overbearing and protective, good luck trying to get other people on your side. Everyone else thinks it’s a part of his 40s charm. Social norms were just different back then; why can’t you be more appreciative of his old-fashioned care? Besides, you’re probably overreacting. Is it really that bad? Steve is the leader of the Avengers, so maybe you’re just taking his authoritative demeanor the wrong way.

Clark Kent: I’m gonna be so for real, any man from a fuckass state like Kansas is going to come with some personality quirks. People will probably give him the benefit of the doubt by default. Just a farm boy trying to navigate the big city and can’t even hurt a fly. Sure, he can be odd at times, but nothing makes him an inherently bad guy. This is the same man that helps old people cross the street, for god’s sake! He most definitely means well, it’s just a matter of setting boundaries with him. What’s the worst he can do?

Remy LeBeau: Despite what differing opinions may say about The Gambit, Remy seems like he’s got his head on his shoulders. His “red flags” are more on the blurry side. Do you count excessive flirting as a red flag? What about hiding behind charisma and a fake ego instead of going to therapy? Some people may say yes, others no. But in terms of glaring red flags, Remy’s relatively clean. We’ve all got our issues, no? Being a thief doesn’t make you a psycho. That being said, due to Remy’s shifty past, people may be more inclined to listen should you ever express that something’s wrong.

Peter Parker: Honestly… he’s a bit of a weirdo. Nothing obvious at first, but the longer you know him, the more behaviors you may pick up on that make you go, “oh… well… that’s weird”. Take his Polaroid obsession, for example. He’s got at least one photo in every jacket pocket, dozens in his wallet, and a fuck ton in his desk. Poor guy accidentally spilled them all over the ground once, which naturally sparked rumors. But Peter’s a sweetheart. Clingy, but still a sweetheart. Maybe he’s just a little messed up due to everything he’s lost in his life.

Bruce Wayne: Okay. Red flags in the playboy billionaire Bruce Wayne? Absolutely unheard of. He’s an absolute angel. According to all of the stan accounts out there, he could do nothing wrong. But red flags in the real Bruce Wayne? Where do we even begin. Distrusting as fuck, paranoid, argumentative, the occasional fit of violence, a known manipulator and liar… want me to keep going, because I can. It’s very hard to rank Bruce due to the ginormous contrast between general public opinion and those who actually know him, so he goes smack in the middle. Billionaire Bruce Wayne would never be a horrible person to you, but the real Bruce Wayne 100% would.

Jaime Reyes: Because of how mental illness is stigmatized, Jaime’s unfortunately labeled to be dangerous. But it’s not really his fault. That damn scarab has him muttering to himself like a crackhead, and naturally assumptions will be made. When actually given a chance, people will learn that Jaime’s a nice kid. He just probably struggles with schizophrenia or really bad anxiety. Yes, his paranoia can get bad, but again; mental illness. He’s never proven himself to a threat, despite what others may think. He just needs help (but there’s no way to combat the manipulation of Khaji Da. Jaime lost that battle the moment he became Blue Beetle).

Hal Jordan: Oh, yeah. He’s got red flags alright. But they’re mostly normal ones, like his ego and horrendous stubborn streak. Lots of guys out there are like that, and are they considered freaks? No. Well, not all of them. However, it is a bit concerning that he’s willing to throw hands at the drop of a hat. Bro’s one major freak out away from catching assault charges like they’re Pokémon. But if it’s any consolation, it should be noted that he hasn’t gotten into major legal trouble. On Earth. Yet. Some call him rough around the edges, others call him a severely troubled individual. Either way, he definitely needs to seek professional help.

Scott Summers: MAJOR red flags. He’s an overbearing control freak that really needs to work on his… well… his everything. Emotional intelligence, temper, daddy issues… yeah, no. He’s an amazing leader, but probably someone you should steer clear from otherwise. Most wouldn’t be surprised if you two were having issues. It’s not like he wears all of his problems on his sleeve; the iceberg goes much deeper than that. Though he sure as hell doesn’t present himself as a well-adjusted member of society. Proceed at your own risk. Don’t say you weren’t warned, because you probably were.

Bucky Barnes: This is the opposite of Captain America’s case. His reputation as the Winter Soldier kind of skews the perception of him to be a walking red flag. And you know, he really is. Bucky is extremely dangerous. Down to snap necks anytime, anywhere, no amount of charm or endearing quirks will make people feel fully safe around him. His history of violence did not stop post-brainwashing. And it’s not like he’s hiding it, either. There’s this crazed gleam in his eyes that just screams “fuck around and find out,” no matter what his mood is. Who in their right mind would involve themself with THE Winter Soldier?! Yeah, no shit you’re having issues with him. He is an issue.

Tim Drake: Bro is the epitome of “you’re scaring the hoes.” He could be walking down the street — face neutral, hands in his pockets — and total strangers will get the sense that something is deeply wrong with him. The aura around him exudes the reddest of flags. Yes, his face and intelligence are attractive, but even those who have fallen for his pretty boy swag can’t help but sigh dreamily and think, “he really needs to be institutionalized.” Disturbing humor. Creepy staring. Mood swings. Suicidal tendencies. Sadomasochism to the max. The list goes on and on and on. If Dead Dove: Do Not Eat was a person, it’d be him. What were you expecting? It’s Tim fucking Drake.

[highonmarvel]

Isolation

Steve Rogers: Steve comes back.

An entry for Day 5 of the exciting @sintember challenge!

Prompt: Isolation, ft Steve Rogers (Captain America) of the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

Warnings: NON-CON, signs of declining mental health, captivity, 18+!

When Steve first put you in his basement, you nearly scoffed at the cliché: prisoner in the basement, like he couldn’t be bothered to be even slightly more creative. That was a few days ago, you think. You really had no way of telling. You remember screaming and banging on the door—you can still see the faint lines your nails scrapped onto it—but you can’t remember when that was. At first you counted a day as the next time you woke up, but you gave up, not because it’s obviously wildly inaccurate, but because you lost count of that, too.

You were hungrier than comfortable, but by no means starving, so maybe in that way it couldn’t have been too long, right? Without change, there is no time, and there has been no change in the basement since… however long it’s been. You couldn’t even rule out it had been months, though evidently ridiculous as that was considering your relative physical health (or, at least, as far as you can tell, or as far as you’re willing to believe), your sense of trust is out of balance.

Steve had been your best friend, you trusted him most, you never for a split moment thought he would hurt you. Steve, who’d you known all your life, time, as well, you’d known all your life: if you couldn’t trust Steve, could you trust your sense of time? You didn’t realise how much people rely on time, even when they have nothing important to attend to; time is the one constant, hours pass whether you want them to or not: you have no constant now.

You sit on the mattress (stained with a little blood you assume must be your own) hugging your knees to your chest, staring straight ahead. You weren’t going mad, you hadn’t had any hallucinations, had you?

Down here, there had only been the sounds you made—your breathing, your screaming, your crying—but your ears prick at an unfamiliar noise. It’s not unfamiliar, really, just one you haven’t heard in a while. Metal, not a lot, shifting around…

A key in a lock!

You scramble to stand up just as Steve pushes open the door, and your eyes lock immediately. You can’t help but notice even now he still has that superhero stance, his posture, standing tall and strong; assuring to everyone else, intimidating to you. But you refuse to allow yourself to be intimidated.

Steve doesn’t say anything as he begins his decent down the stairs; he looks away, but you stay fixated on him. When he reaches the floor, he turns to you with a smile.

No thought, you just sprint.

You dart towards the steps, but he easily scoops you up, and you’re bent over his shoulder, screaming as you hit your fists against his toned back and kick your legs uselessly in the air.

Another sound you hear, it sounds familiar, sounds like words being formed by a noise different to the one you make when you speak. It’s so bizarre to hear Steve speaking, so bizarre to hear anyone speaking but yourself after all (?) this time of hearing the same melody. It’s so bizarre, in fact, that you don’t really even register it, what he’s saying, until you’re dropped onto the mattress on the floor, falling quite a way (relative to what you would be used to hopping into bed) with a shriek.

“I’ve been alone, too,” he says, towering over you, blocking the single light that illuminates the basement, the light that hasn’t once turned off since you were thrown down here, it hasn’t even flickered.

He suddenly drops to his knees, straddling you. This position feels familiar, too; his knees caging you as you writhe under him in distress; it feels like the second time, now. It is the second time. And the first time this happened it ended with you being literally thrown into his basement. What would he do when he was done this time?

“Look…” he gently raises your right hand to his eyes, examines it, and then tilts it to display your nails to you; they’re bitten down so bad you’re bleeding, or maybe you’re bleeding from clawing at the door, either way, they’re damaged, fairly badly, and you stare back at your own fingers in shock. How could you not have noticed this?

“When you’re alone,” he says, gently, softly laying your hand back down to your side, “You hurt yourself. That’s why you need to stay with me.”

Right! You were at his place, as usual, and as you were falling asleep when he started, started speaking about how you needed to stay with him, because you needed him. Though while he violated you, he spewed the opposite.

“I need you…” he grunted.

You shake your head to rid yourself of the thoughts, but that memory seems to be replaying in front of your very eyes, a huge wave of déjà vu crashing over you as Steve strokes the side of your face. You slap his hand away, and that loving gaze he’d been showering you in turns dark. You try to throw a punch to his jaw but he catches your wrists and gives you a disapproving look. It’s extremely frustrating this seems to be so easy for him.

With nothing else to do, you start kicking and screaming; you’re sure it won’t accomplish anything, but you refuse to just roll over and accept this, no. You twist and turn under him until, to your surprise, he raises himself just high enough for you to turn all the way over. Before you can comprehend your little freedom, he brings his knees back down to the back of your own, and though it’s evident he’s not using all his weight, it’s still enough to make you cry out.

He lets his knees fall to the sides and manages to restrict your movements enough to tug your shorts down.

You want to scream No! but after all this time, you’re not sure if your voice can work to form actual words; you’ve only been screaming and sobbing for days. Or hours? Since he left, you haven’t spoken since he left, and you’re not sure if you can now.

You hear him spit in his hand and his soft groans as he strokes himself, and you’re lucky you can’t see it. You try to claw at his legs as you feel him line up with your entrance but he manages to pull your wrists together and shove them into your back.

He enters you slowly and with a soft groan, tears springing to your eyes as you sob, incoherent; you’re sure you’d plead with him to stop if you could. He ignores you and thrusts deep, in and out; you’re sure his careful movements may have looked loving and respectful to someone on the outside, yet it was anything but, despite what he’d have you believe.

“I need you…”

⍟

[yandere-wishes]

[indecisive-capricorn]

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Harry Potter

draco lucius malfoy:

headcanons to yandere draco malfoy x reader.

you despised draco malfoy more than anyone, but the same couldn't be said about his feelings towards you. but how will he handle these feelings as they slowly grow darker as the years go by?

tom marvolo riddle

official (jealous tom riddle x reader) 🔞

another wizard has taken an interest in you, but tom will make sure that everyone knows you're his.

headcanons to dating yandere tom riddle

a chance to experience what dating tom riddle is like, even when it's against your will to do just that.

Marvel

bucky barnes:

headcanons to yandere bucky barnes x pregnant reader.

it's already bad enough that you got kidnapped by an obsessed bucky barnes, but how will he react when he finds out you're pregnant? And how will he treat you throughout your pregnancy?

miguel o'hara:

headcanons to miguel o'hara x pregnant reader.

getting pregnant is one thing, but how will your beloved partner, miguel o'hara, react to it when he finds out? and how will he be like throughout your pregnancy?

weekend mornings (miguel o'hara x pregnant reader).

after waking up, you got a little worried when you couldn't find miguel beside you.

priorities (miguel o'hara x wife reader)

miguel got injured after a mission and you insist for your stubborn husband to go to the medical center.

small headcanons to miguel o'hara after pregnant wife reader gives birth

what is miguel like after you had given birth to your beautiful baby?

steve rogers:

headcanons to getting married and going on a honey with yandere steve rogers. 🔞

after being forced to get married to a heavily obsessed and insanely in love steve rogers, you will have to go through the honeymoon he planned specially to get you to stay with him forever.

Hunger Games

coriolanus snow:

arranged marriage with coriolanus snow 🔞

how will coriolanus treat you, his wife, in an arranged marriage?

One Piece

portgas d ace:

headcanons to yandere portgas d ace x reader.

although portgas d ace could hardly find any treasure in the land of wano, he had found something far more priceless than any jewel in the world.

Twilight

the cullens:

yandere cullens family reactions to you attempting to escape.

you tried to run away from your kidnapper lover but your attempt failed and now you have to face the consequences of your actions. problem is, how will your beloved yandere react to it and what are the punishments that lie ahead for you?

volturi clan:

yandere volturi guards reactions to you attempting to escape.

you tried to run away from your kidnapper lover but your attempt failed and now you have to face the consequences of your actions. problem is, how will your beloved yandere react to it and what are the punishments that lie ahead for you?

yandere series:

headcanons to yandere husband x reader

when your yandere husband is a sweet yet possessive soul, who's devoted to loving, protecting, and keeping you all to himself no matter what.

requests are open. recommend a good bottle. any kind of message is always a delight. :)

[yanderemcu]

Yandere Steve Rogers headcanoes-Captain Americas Obsession

Steve Rogers yandere headcanoes by Yanderemcu

*Steve is a switch

*Steve is an obsessive,possessive and protective yandere

*Steve's love language is acts of service

*Steve is 90% a yandere

*Steve uses hunny,sweetheart and beautiful as his pet names

*He's old fashioned

*Very protective,loving and caring

*Dancing every night

*CUDDLES

*Steve is very cuddly and clingy

*When you need comfort Steve whispers to you and rubs your back

*Steve wants 5 kids in the future

*You make the meals

*Steve is straight

*Steve waits 2 years until he proposes

*COZY SMALL LIFE

*Steve like the idea of dancing as his dream date

*Steve's favorite spot to kiss you is your face

*Steve uses spanking when he needs to punish you

*Steve uses his shield when he kills

Steve Rogers-"Your so perfect hunny."

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"The Taste of You"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Tags: Fresh AU, dark rom-com, dark!Bucky, pre-serum Steve, cannibalism, kidnapping, yandere/basement wife, meet cute-ish, gay sex n' stuff, dub-con

Summary: Steve is so tired of the meat market that modern dating has become. Just when he's deleted all the apps and given up on ever finding Mr. Right, he meets the perfect guy at the grocery store.

A dark, cute, funny, fucked up, and very tasty love story.

A.N.: It's not as murdery as it sounds 😅 But, as per usual: minors DNI. It's a Fresh AU. "If you can't handle the cannibalism, get out of the kitchen"--or something like that

1. Specialty Ingredients

Steve watches, mouth literally hanging open, as it happens again: his date is stomping away, mad.

He just called Steve a scrawny, cock-teasing twink for making out a little on the sidewalk, but then declining to go back to his place to hook up. The guy pressed the issue and Steve got frustrated and told him tersely that he wasn't interested because they just met, okay? That went over like a lead balloon.

Steve scowls as the jerk disappears around the corner at the end of the block. “Well fuck you too,” he mutters, feeling put out—and okay, a little hurt, too. He’s not a cocktease. He’s not scrawny.

Well, maybe that second one is kind of true, but Steve hates how guys will act like they’re into his small stature when they think he’s a sure thing, but then get all derogatory and mean about it once he tries to tell them he’s looking for more than a hookup and wants to take it slow—and not even hetero people slow; gay guy slow, which is super fast in comparison! Steve just wants to get to know a guy for once before sleeping with him. Is that really so bad?

He huffs and turns around, walking dejectedly back to his car. Another handsome asshole, another hope dashed, another pathetic date. He really does have the worst luck, and he’s getting plain sick of it. He checks his phone before he drives away.

Clint: Well???

Steve sighs. He types back a reply to his friend

Steve: another dud

Clint: dude …

Steve rolls his eyes and chucks the phone onto the passenger seat. He turns the key in the ignition, the radio coming on to an old eighties love ballad that just worsens his sense of dejection. “Fucking figures,” he mutters, putting the car into drive.

He leaves the song playing though, because sometimes wallowing is called for.

The next morning, Steve wakes up in a glum mood. He tries to focus on his work for most of the day, rather than his horrible luck with dating, but as he paints the hours away he winds up pouting about it anyhow. He sinks further and further into a depressing pit of self-pity and despair.

Clint texts him, asking if he wants to go out and sing karaoke or something, and Steve knows he’s just trying to cheer him up and all, but he really can’t stand the thought of being cheerful right now.

Steve hates gay guys, he thinks, stomping over to the crappy small sink in his crappy small apartment’s kitchen. He runs the water and rinses off his brushes with a vengeance they don’t deserve. Gay guys suck. Steve hates how shallow they all are, how vapid and self-centered. All they want is to go clubbing and fuck around and that’s it. None of them want a real relationship, and they think Steve is boring for wanting to have a meaningful conversation instead of suck their dicks right away. He gets grumpier about it the more he thinks, and he even has the thought that at least if he were straight he could find someone with feelings, a desire for genuine connection. “Gay guys suck,” he mutters to his poor, abused paint brushes.

Nevermind that Steve himself is incontrovertibly homosexual and has no choice in the matter of what his dating pool consists of. After all: ‘Haters gonna hate, players gonna play’. “Gaays gonna gay, gay, gay, gay, gay.” Steve sings the tune under his breath. He just hates it, hates it all. He’s sick and tired of playing the game.

He sends Natalie a nastily self-deprecating text:

Steve: Know any of your girlfriends who might want to date a faggot?

It’s not nice, and he knows she won’t like him using that word in that context.

Natalie Potential Rich!! Buyer: another douche huh?

He sighs and texts back an apology with a huggy emoji.

Steve: Sorry 🤗 Just frustrated. All the good ones are taken and I’m not interested in the skanks who’re left over.

Natalie responds with the “Give that man a Snickers” Diva-meme, which makes Steve realize that he is, in fact, hungry. He needs to get something to eat. He needs to focus on himself for a change. Maybe it’s finally time to stop looking for Mr. Right and just enjoy Steve Rogers. Maybe he should join a gym, start a new hobby, anything to fill up his time with himself rather than another person. 

He goes into the kitchen, thinking that he’ll make something yummy and binge watch a new series off his Netflix list, but scowls at the barren interior that greets him when he opens the fridge door. Nothing good to eat. “Fuck,” he mutters. He’s got to go to the grocery store now before he can sit down with a meal and relax.

And it’s raining outside, too. Just his fucking luck.

His phone ‘pings’ and he looks over at where he’d set it on the counter. The screen is lit up with a new notification from Grindr:

Henry super liked you!

He picks up the phone and opens the app. Henry’s profile pic is only from the neck down, showing off his abs. Steve rolls his eyes. The next picture is his lower half, a pair of tighty-whities stretched over his erection making it lewd, but still within the app’s no dick pic rules. The third pic is of his bare ass in a jockstrap.

Steve spends a second more than he intends appreciating the guy’s backside, but then he growls and jabs his finger at the screen to reject the guy. He’s fucking fed up with this entire thing! On a sudden, right-feeling whim, he exits the app and holds his finger down on the screen until all the icons start wiggling with their little x’s. He quickly proceeds to delete Grindr, Scruff, and Hornet from his phone.

He’s fucking done with dating. He’s giving up. Steve is just not meant to find Mr. Right. Not this year, anyway. He feels lighter after deleting the apps, and he slides his unburdened phone into his pocket with a sense of accomplishment and a shiny new idea: He’s not going to date for a whole year. He’s going to make this The Year of Steve.

Fuck yeah.

He goes to the hall closet to grab his umbrella and rain boots.

The walk to FreshMart is only four blocks from his apartment, but he still arrives at the grocery store a little damp from the gusting rain. He shakes off his umbrella by the door, grabs a basket, and directs himself towards the produce aisle. He’s added fingerling potatoes and some asparagus spears to his basket, and has just started perusing the meat section when he hears a man’s voice say, 

“Hey, have you ever had this?”

Steve looks over. The guy is holding up a package of bloody red … something. Steve blinks. “Um …”

The stranger twists his lips and shakes his head, looking at the meat. “It’s venison. I thought I’d freak my sister out with something a little different.”

“Your sister?” Steve asks, feeling very odd at being asked his opinion in the middle of the meat department. He looks between the package of raw meat and the stranger—He’s unusually handsome, tall and strong-jawed, brown hair styled in an effortlessly flattering cut. Steve licks his lips nervously. “Um, isn’t that like, deer meat?” He takes a step closer to peer down at the label. “Huh.” He didn’t know regular grocery stores sold that kind of thing. “That’s … exotic,” he says, for lack of a better word.

The stranger chuckles. “Yeah, well. I actually don’t eat animals, so …” he shrugs. “But her and her husband and kids are total carnivores. Thought I’d bring something other than my usual bottle of wine.”

“Oh.” Steve peers up at the man, trying to figure him out. The man smiles sheepishly and Steve winds up smiling, charmed, if somewhat baffled. He looks the man in the eyes and is taken by how pretty they are, how intense. Damn he’s good looking. “Well I, ah, couldn’t tell you what it tastes like. I’ve never had it.” He makes a face. “Like I said, it’s exotic.”

“Oh I love to cook with exotic ingredients. I’m kind of an amateur cuisinier. Or at least I try to be.”

“Oh. Right.” Steve gestures to the blood package. “But you ah … you don’t cook only vegetarian stuff?”

The man grins (and shoot, he’s got an unfairly attractive smile, too). “I guess I just like to satisfy other people’s appetites,” he says, lips parted enticingly. And then his tongue darts out in this totally casual, should-be-illegal sort of way. “I take it you’re a meat eater,” he says knowingly.

Is that a double entendre? Steve thinks it might be a double entendre. Yes! he wants to scream. Yes! He is 1000% a meat eater. He gulps as the guy’s eyes flick down and back up his body in a heated onceover, and Steve may not always be the brightest bulb in the box, but he can tell when he’s being considered. Is this guy really flirting with him? Here? In the freaking grocery store? Is that even a real thing that happens, anymore? Steve flushes and pulls his shopping basket up higher in front of himself, like a shield. “I–I see,” he stammers. “Well … um … yeah.” God, he’s hopeless.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Venison’ll probably be … different.” He nods at the stranger, awkward and aware that the other man isn’t moving away. “Well. Good luck.” He turns and vacantly peruses the meats, pretending that he’s more invested in searching out the perfect porkchop than he really is. He hears the guy’s footsteps moving away.

“Fuck it,” the man says, and turns right back around. He takes a deep breath. “I like your boots.”

“What?”

The guy nods downwards. “Your rain boots. They’re really cute.”

Steve looks down at his feet. His rubber boots are pink and printed with the golden girls’ faces. He looks back up at the stranger, stunned. No straight guy on planet Earth would ever say such a thing. “Um. Thanks.”

The guy holds out his hand, friendly, like he’s not aware he’s acting weird as shit. “I’m James.”

Steve probably stares too long at the offered hand, before he hurries to shove the handles of his shopping basket up onto his one arm so that he can take the guy’s—James’—hand and shake it. It’s pleasantly large over his own hand. “Steve.”

James smiles. He’s arrestingly handsome when he doesn’t smile and Steve feels like an even weaker creature when he does. “Sorry,” James says, looking down shyly. “I uh, I don’t usually do this.”

“Do what?” Steve asks, keenly aware that he may just be about to be propositioned. He winces at the idea of having to turn down another good-looking jerk.

James tilts his head. “Would you …” He hesitates, eyes flicking up and over as a woman passes them. She turns and goes down the soda aisle. He looks back to Steve, distracted. “I was gonna be crazy and ask for your number,” he says, flushing. Steve doesn’t even get a chance to say anything before James is scrubbing his hand over his embarrassed face. “Fuck, I’m sorry. You’re probably not even—” He looks back to the soda aisle where the woman had gone. “Sorry,” he mumbles again, and starts to walk away. “Human disaster in the meat aisle. Just ignore me, please.”

“Wait!” Steve blurts. James turns back around. “Why do you want my number? Were you gonna ask me out? Like on a date?” He uses the word purposefully.

“Well, yeah.” James looks apologetic. “Sorry. I know it’s weird.”

It is weird. But Steve is kind of charmed by the guy’s odd methods. He promptly pushes away his resolution of The Year of Steve. “James,” he says, taking a step closer. “Um, you can. Have my number.” He peeks up at him shyly. “If you want.”

James' happy-surprised-enthused smile is the best one yet. They exchange numbers.

Clint: Wait, wat do you mean, the grocery store??

Steve: he came over and just started talking to me.

Clint: … that’s weird, man. That’s shady.

Steve: actually it was kind of cute. Kind of idk old fashioned.

Clint: Kind of weird. Whats his Insta?

Steve doesn’t hear from James for almost three days. He alternates between finding it refreshing, and being disappointed. Maybe Clint’s right. Maybe the guy was just a weirdo.

Then, on the third day, Steve is leaving from his morning shift at Michaels when he hears his phone ‘ping’ with a notification. When he sees the name “Weird Meat Guy” on the screen, his face splits in a grin.

Weird Meat Guy: Been thinking about you since the other day.

Happy butterflies come to life in Steve’s stomach at the flirtatious tone of the text. His first instinct is to force himself to ignore it for at least thirty minutes, so that he doesn’t seem overeager. But then he thinks, fuck it, just like James had said in the grocery store before turning right back around to ask him out.

Steve types a reply.

Steve: hey stranger. Yeah I was wondering how that venison worked out for you. 😂What’s it taste like?

Weird Meat Guy: I don’t eat animals, not even for my sister’s Sunday dinners. But she said it was fine. Not as good as regular old cow, though🐄🥩

Steve: not surprising.

There’s a bit of a pause where he can see James is typing and deleting and typing again. Then,

Weird Meat Guy: Do you want to go out tonight? We could grab drinks or something?

Steve bites his lip, bad memories of “casual” meetups and “just grabbing drinks” dates and what they’ve always led to, in the past.

Steve: let’s go out to eat. At a restaurant or something. A real date.

James texts back almost immediately, and his answer makes Steve beam like a fool.

Weird Meat Guy: Hell yeah. What’s your favorite kind of food?

Steve can’t help it; he has a good-verging-on-great feeling about this guy. He tries to tuck away his expectations that this time it’ll be different. He can still do The Year of Steve if or when this goes wrong. He’ll just try this one last time though. Just once more before he swears off being a “meat eater” for the year.

He tells James that he really likes Italian food, and the next thing he knows, James is sending him the link to a really nice and expensive Italian place in Brooklyn. Steve thrills at James' enthusiasm, and grimaces at the three dollar signs that Google has lined up beside the restaurant’s name.

He tells James okay, figures he’ll just tighten up his budget a bit for a few weeks after.

James meets him inside the restaurant, at the bar. He’s already got a drink in his hand. “It’s an old fashioned,” he tells him sheepishly. “Sorry to start without you.”

“No, it’s fine.”

“I just get a little nervous when I ask a cute guy out to dinner.”

Steve freezes, but then his mouth twitches. “Oh,” he says. “You, ah … you think I’m cute, huh?”

James grins and winks at him in a way that is devastating and should-not-be-allowed. “Yeah. I sure do.”

Steve is charmed.

The hostess seats them in a dark and cozy booth in the back of the restaurant. Steve settles in and looks around, impressed. “This is a really nice place,” he says, genuinely meaning it but also kind of anxious to open his menu and get a look at whatever prices garnered a $$$ on Google.

“Yeah it’s one of my favorites.” James is grinning at him from across the table. “I was so glad you picked Italian, cause then I knew I had the perfect place to bring you.”

Bring you. Steve looks down and tries not to smile too obviously at the words. “I like it so far,” he says, peeking up coyly at James so that he knows Steve doesn’t just mean the restaurant.

James seems to get it, if his expression is anything to go by.

They open their menus and Steve’s stomach drops at the forty dollar appetizers. Shit. He wishes he’d found a way to mention to James that he’s kind of a starving artist.

“Do you like mushrooms?” James asks, oblivious to Steve’s internal panic. He’s looking across the table at him with eager eyes. “They’ve got the best stuffed mushrooms I’ve ever had. I think they put crack in ‘em.”

Steve laughs despite himself, then decides ‘fuck it’ once again, and closes his menu with a nod. “Sure,” he says. “Let’s do it.” He’ll live frugally for a month if he has to.

James orders them the appetizer and an entire bottle of wine that he knows by its specific name and year. All Steve makes out is the “‘94 ” part of it, and his heart rate picks up. He’s about to really worry about how the hell much a place like this is going to charge for an entire bottle of wine that’s older than he is, but then when the server delivers it and pours for them, James shoots him a wink and tells him, “S’my treat.”

Oh. Steve’s heart flutters as much at the gentlemanly gesture as it does at the possibility that maybe James will pay for the whole meal. A guy can dream.

The mushrooms arrive and Steve gushes to James about how he was right: they are amazing. They get to talking, covering the standard ‘first date’ questions, and it’s stupid and awkward like it always is; but also it isn’t, because James seems to laugh about the awkwardness of it, too. And that makes it kind of fun.

James is thirty-seven to Steve’s twenty-seven (Daddy kink: activated). He has a place in Manhattan but his sister lives in Brooklyn, which is why he was shopping at the FreshMart in Steve’s neck of the woods the other day. He’s got one parent still living, grew up with a loving family but “pretty poor” in Jersey. He hasn’t been in a relationship or even been on a date in “a really long time.” He wants to travel more but he lets his work consume him too much. He doesn’t eat animals.

He’s also really good at making the whole first-date interrogation-phase go smoothly. It’s fun with him, Steve realizes, not awful and strained like it usually would be. Their conversation just seems to flow naturally and easily, both of them smiling almost continually as they chat and joke.

Steve is utterly charmed.

“Okay,” James says, as he pops another mushroom into his mouth and then talks around it. “I’ll do another boring one: what do you do for work?”

Steve gulps and delays answering by taking a sip of the wine—a red that downright tastes expensive. “Um, well my passion is my art. It’s what I went to school for.” He tucks his lips in and shrugs. “But, ya know, ‘starving artists,’ and all that. So I work part time at Michaels, too.”

James doesn’t look like he’s thinking that Steve’s a stereotype or a loser or anything like that. “That’s awesome!” he says, sounding like he genuinely means it. “What kind of art? Or like, what medium do you work with?”

Steve blinks. Nobody ever asks him good questions like this, like they actually care and want to dig deeper into who he really is. “Um, mostly acrylics. Some watercolors and pencil-charcoal sketching,” he says, flustering at the way that James pays such close attention to his answers. “I like to mix it up sometimes, but mostly it’s those three.” He shrugs. “I sell online. I have one really loyal patron—she keeps me afloat. S’nothing that special.”

“Sounds like you know your stuff,” James counters, not letting him insist on his own mediocrity. “If you went to school for it and all, then you must be pretty good. Don’t you have to, like, audition for art school?”

Steve blushes and looks away. “Well. Yeah.”

“And I bet you get all your supplies cheap with the side gig, huh?”

Steve stares at him. “Yeah,” he says, impressed. “Employee discount.”

James nods sagely, as if he’s ever had to worry in his life about the utility of an employee discount. He might’ve grown up poor, but he’s clearly well-off now. Steve can tell that the suit he’s wearing is a custom tailored deal, and the wine he’s ordered for the table has a bouquet of oak and dollar bills. “I think it’s really brave of you,” he’s telling Steve, looking like he admires him or something ridiculous like that. “That you’re following a passion like that? That you can just …” he makes a shaping gesture over the table with his hands, “make something with your own two hands and then sell it? That’s incredible.”

The more James talks, the more Steve gets his hopes up that he might actually be A Really Great Guy™️. Steve can hardly stand to take all the compliments, so he turns the question back around on James: “What about you? What do you do for work?”

James hesitates. “... I’m a surgeon.”

Steve’s eyes go wide and his mouth drops open, making him look like A Gold Digger™️, probably. He closes his mouth. “Oh. Wow, that’s … that’s neat. Medical school, then, huh?”

James smiles through a wince, as if being a freaking doctor is no big deal. “Yeah. It was rough for a few years, but I got through it. I’m in a good place now. It’s pretty smooth sailing.”

“So do you work at like a hospital or something?”

“Not exactly.” He stares at him for a long moment, then suddenly says, “Gosh, I’m just really attracted to you, Steve.” Steve blinks, taken-aback. He reaches for a hurried sip of his wine and tries to think of a response to the weird shift in conversation. “Sorry,” James hurries. “I just felt like I had to say it.” He gives Steve a tender look rather than a lecherous one, which is a welcome change from the usual script. “I think I might really like you.”

Steve flusters and averts his eyes to the tabletop, peeking back up at James a few times. The guy is totally focused on him. It’s intimidating, but not in a bad way. “Yeah,” Steve eventually manages to murmur. “Yeah I think you might be nice.”

James teases him about the ‘nice’, and they fall into easy banter again as they finish the mushrooms and open up their menus to choose their entrees. Steve’s once again fixated on the prices, and he immediately starts trying to see if there’s anything under sixty dollars …

“By the way,” James says casually, not looking up from where he’s reading his menu. “I know this place is fucking ridiculous: I got it covered.”

He says it all easy and nonchalant, like it’s no big deal that he’s treating Steve to what’s probably a three hundred dollar dinner, and Steve once again feels like he’s on a date with a hero, a real gentleman. “Kay,” he says smally, feeling delighted and hopeful as heck on the inside. 

He orders a seafood linguini, and James gets a spinach and cheese tortellini dish. “This is so good,” Steve practically moans around a mouthful of his food. 

James makes a noise of agreement, stuffing another tortellini shell in his mouth. “Mmph.”

“So you really don’t eat any meat?” Steve winds up asking. “Like, not even fish or chicken or anything?” Where does he get his protein? James looks like he keeps in good shape …

James chuckles. “Nope. Haven’t touched the stuff for … gosh, almost fifteen years.”

“Wow.” Steve spears up another shrimp from his pasta and wonders if it offends James. “So like, is it an ethical thing or just …”

“No, no. I just kind of had this epiphany one day—while I was tenderizing a thigh, mind you—that all the things I was eating were living creatures, that we’re animals just like they are.” He makes a thoughtful face as he considers it. “It’s not a moral viewpoint so much as it is a …” he trails off and his eyes return to Steve with an apologetic shrug. “I dunno. My viewpoint shifted that day. Couldn’t shift it back. I’ve tried so many other things now, animal meat just doesn’t taste the same anymore.”

“I can respect that.” Steve wiggles his fork that’s speared with a juicy scallop. “As long as you don’t mind this.” 

“No, no way. Don’t you remember where we met?”

Steve snickers. “Oh yeah, how could I forget. What was it you said? You like to ‘satisfy other people’s appetites’?” He chances a flirty look across the table. “Wasn’t that how you put it?”

James chews, smirking, and he winks at Steve again. Goddamn. “Yeah,” he says lowly. “Yeah. I sure do.”

On the sidewalk outside the restaurant they stand close together, bundled in their jackets. Neither one of them seems to want to leave. “Thanks again,” Steve says. “For dinner. It was really nice.”

“My pleasure.” James takes a step closer, so that they’re almost toe to toe. “I was so excited to go out with you,” he says. He brings a hand up and traces the side of Steve’s face with the backs of his fingers, not looking at Steve’s eyes but rather where he’s touching his cheek. “You’re different,” he murmurs. "And I knew it the moment I met you."

Wow, what a fucking intense thing to say. Steve … doesn’t hate it. “I am?” he whispers, watching his breath swirl on the air between their faces.

“Mmhm. I can tell.” 

Steve shivers and fights the urge to press into James’ touch on his cheek. It feels unduly intimate, and they’re already so close. “I was excited for tonight, too,” he confides. “I’ve had a lot of bad luck with dating. Was getting sick of trying, to be honest.”

“But?” James asks softly, and Steve looks up at him, for once feeling open and honest enough to just admit,

“But I didn’t meet you on some app. And you liked my stupid Golden Girls boots.” James chuckles and Steve looks up, taking in his face up close: the dimple in his chin, the creases of age that’ve barely begun to collect at the corners of his eyes, that one tiny patch of grey in his beard. It makes him all the more insufferably handsome. “And you’re charming,” he whispers. “So there’s that.”

James smiles softly. “Aw, shucks.”

“I think you’re a really nice guy, James. I’d like to see you again.”

James' smile widens hopefully. “Yeah?” he says, leaning even closer.

“Yeah. I think, well … I just think …”

“What?” James touches his face again, this time palming his cheek. “Tell me.”

“Oh, it’s nothin’.” Steve finally lets his eyes slip closed, enjoying the feeling of James’ hand on his skin, the cologne he gets a whiff of when they’re standing this close. “You smell nice.”

“Thank you. Still haven’t told me what you were gonna say.”

Steve smiles sadly. “Oh, I’m just getting my hopes up about you, is all.” He’s still got his eyes closed when James kisses him. He inhales sharply through his nose, surprised. But he doesn’t pull away, and they just … keep kissing.

Eventually James cups his face with both hands and Steve moans, because the way James is kissing him feels so natural and good. He feels like he can taste James' good intentions as they make out softly, right there on the sidewalk.

When they part they’re both panting a little, heavy-lidded eyes flicking over one another, gauging, desire tinged with uncertainty. “That was …” James breathes.

“Yeah,” Steve says, and they both stare at each other for another long moment, before Steve says, “Fuck it,” and surges in to grab James by his jacket and kiss him again, this time harder. James whimpers needily into his mouth, and heat shoots through Steve’s belly at hearing it, arousal flaring to life faster than he can handle. Suddenly his pants feel a little tight, and he wants James so badly he can hardly stand it. “Oh man,” he groans, pulling away from the kiss, grimacing at himself for what he’s about to say. “I really, really never do this,” he promises against James' lips. “But … Do you want to go back to my place?”

James' eyes widen. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Fuck. Yeah, okay.”

They kiss eagerly one more time and then hurry off, giddy, hands clasped, and headed in the direction where James says he’s parked his car.

Masterlist

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[mx-your-name]

More head canons of Singer!Reader x Yandere Steve Rogers! (+Peggy Carter)

TW: Mention of murder and death, technically kidnapping, yandere behavior, obsessive love, manipulation if you squint your eyes, getting blipped from existence

-Where Steve Rogers would do anything to make you happy and smile to brighten up your day! You’re craving something sweet, sour, spicy? It’s on the table for you, hot and free.

-But he always expects something in return for getting you something as simple as a hug or just a kiss on the cheek, forehead, or the lips.

-Would definitely makes you both a matching bracelet since you used to make them all the time when you were younger

-If you were to ever get hurt like the simplest paper cut, burnt mark, or even hit anybody part on something Steve’s gonna treat it like someone had just stabbed you or something. Even if you keep telling him you're okay, get ready to be on the couch doing absolutely nothing with blankets, pillows, some food on your lap, your favorite movie on, and Steve right by your side cuddling you. Asking if you're comfortable every 10 minutes to make yourself uncomfortable or need the bathroom.

-You being sick would be a whole different story. It’s a sore throat? You can’t talk or sing at all until you're better! It’s a slight cold? You need medicine, blankets, and soup. Do you need the bathroom? Don’t worry he’ll carry you there and back! You're worried about him getting sick as well? He’ll go through the same pain as you so you're not alone through all this.

-When it comes to meeting your family for the first time, Steve is getting ready 3 hours earlier making sure to practice his lines and have a great first impression on your parents. He doesn’t wanna risk them saying that he can’t date you. Not like he’ll listen either way You tell him that he doesn’t need to do all that, oh yes he does he needs your father’s approval on you getting married. He’ll bring your moms favorite flowers to impress both of them. You have siblings? Don’t worry he knows how to get kids to think he’s amazing! You have a sibling that’s a teenager and doesn’t liken him? It’s alright, he just needs to find out what they like and don’t like.

-The first time that he had heard about your ex’s he was a bit angry on why they’d treat you like the way they did. Oh you never talked about your ex’s to him? You must’ve let it slip out when drinking on movie night one time.

-Onto the mention of movie night. Every Friday night he’d come home and spend time with you, eating some dinner with you before heading over to the couch to watch some movies, not like you had much of a choice if you wanted to or not. Though you’d have to explain some movies to him sometimes since he still didn’t understand much about what had happened after he got iced for 70 years after all.

-He killed your ex one night when you sleeping, tired for cleaning all day and totally not the drugged drink

-What do you mean one of your ex-boyfriend’s bodies is on the news? He shouldn’t have stayed out so late, after all there are a lot of killers out there killing innocent people.

-You wanna outside? Why? You have everything you would ever want and need here with him

-He’s a trained super soldier so of course you knew that fighting against him wasn’t gonna do much for you. Did you still try too? Yeah.

Infinity War

-When it comes to the end of Infinity War Steve didn’t hesitate to go straight home to you to make sure you were alive and that you didn’t dust like the rest of half the population

-You were home just watching a movie when you felt something weird happen to your body. Your cat that Steve had gotten you for your birthday by your side. Lifting one hand up to pet for it to go through confused to see your cat - who was named Mittens - let out a meow. You were freaked out by that bowl of popcorn falling onto the ground as you tried picking Mittens up for her to completely vanish. Tears pouring down your fast as you panic on where your cat had gone, looking down at your hand to see it turning to dust just like your cat had done a minute ago. The tears falling on your lap as you dust away into the living room to where your cat had gone

-Steve slammed the door open looking around the room yelling your name. He felt panicked, he had lost Bucky to the snap and he couldn’t just lose you either just like that. When searching the whole house to not only find you but also Mittens, going to the living room to see the bowl of popcorn dumped onto the ground left there untouched.

-When you were dusted into the soul stone the only thing you saw was orange everything. An orange ground, orange sky, and orange everything. But one thing that wasn’t orange was yourself, looking around confused on what was going on

-Venturing through the giant open space, your pajamas still on since you didn’t really wanna change out of warm comfortable clothes, soon running into what seemed to be Mittens who was running over to you

-It'd be an understatement if you were told that you didn’t miss your cat Mittens, it felt like the only thing that made everything alright was your cat.

Endgame

-For the last 5 years that you were blipped he’d be going through a terrible time not only did he lose Bucky but he lost you. And when it was you it felt like he couldn’t at least save the person he so dearly loves more than anyone. Besides Peggy Carter of course.

-So when Tony had finally invented time travel so they could defeat Thanos and bring back half thr population that was dusted. Steve was over the moon happy that they were one step away from being everyone back. Bringing you back.

-Once the second they won the war and were back on Earth Steve didn’t hesitate to take off running back home where the two of you live. He made sure the house and everything in it was kept the same.

-One moment you were with Mittens the next you were both dusting away once again, holding tightly onto your cat not knowing what could happen to either of you after all this. The next you were back at your house, the bowl of popcorn gone but Mittens in your arms once again. As if everything was the simplest dream.

-When Steve came through the front door a bit different than equals you were taken back by how changed he was.

-Never have you hugged tightly or for a whole day. You sat on the couch the entire time, and when you had to go to the bathroom he’d wait outside immediately hugging you once again, also asking if you were okay. When you were hungry both of you were in the kitchen, Steve hugging you from behind not once leaving your side.

-Now when it came to Peggy, Steve would either choose Peggy to come along with him or he’d bring you back into the past but it mostly always ended with Steve bringing Peggy to the future.

-Peggy would be taken back at first and a bit heart broken but understanding. She’d also grow to love you as well just as much Steve loves you. Maybe even more than Steve a bit.

-Back to Steve, he’d make sure that you always came first - which Peggy agreed on - he lost you once for 5 whole years and he wasn’t willing to lose you again. So maybe say goodbye to ever stepping foot outside, not like you ever did before you vanished.

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Secluded Paradise

Pairing: Dark Steve Rogers x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

SUMMARY: Your boyfriend is tired of your technology addiction so he takes matters into his own hands.

WARNINGS: Imprisonment; Toxic Relationship.

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

--

“And I was thinking we should go to the country house for the weekend, it could be like a getaway from the city. No phones or wi-fi, just us. What do you think, honey?” Steve asks, his blue eyes squinting at your figure, who continues completely focused on the phone. 

“Honey?” he repeats himself, his voice only demonstrating a small hint of anger as he reaches to tap on your arm a bit, successfully grabbing your attention.

You look at him, confusion blinding your eyes which only makes Steve even more annoyed at you. 

“Yeah, sure, sure. Whatever you want, babe.” you hurriedly agree, returning your attention back to your phone. Steve clenches his hand and takes a deep breath as he tries to keep his anger away. 

It’s hard to live in this new modern century where everyone has technology addiction. He usually tries his best to be patient when you’re glued to the device or when you ask him to take millions of pictures of yourself, just so that in the end you only choose one to post on your social media.

It’s complicated though, he’s a patient man but even Captain America has his own limits to the point that it’s reaching its end. 

Steve isn’t blind to the way that you seem to rejoice with all the attention you receive online. With Natasha’s extensive help, he actually managed to learn some rudimentar basics of navigating the online world, going as far as to creating a secret account.

All of this just to keep track of you - a man needs to keep tabs on his woman, of course. 

Yet something that worsened his mood was noticing how many pictures you had displayed there, with an abundance of male comments where most of them used very vulgar language. 

Something you clearly had no problem with. If anything, it seemed like you thoroughly enjoyed the attention, rewarding those unknown men with even more pictures of you wearing scandalous outfits. 

Plus, having a decent conversation with you was getting harder and harder as your attention was uniquely on your phone at all times. You had no time to even make small conversation, much less discuss future life plans.

Snapping out of his thoughts, he signals the waiter to bring the check and quickly pays, helping you to stand up and dress your jacket. 

“I’m gonna start planning for our vacations. You’re going to love them.” he says, grabbing your free hand. You don’t offer any response, the fingers of your free hand rapidly tapping on the screen. Steve swallows his annoyance once again as he makes up his mind. 

He’s not going to tolerate it much more. 

“Steve! Oh my god!” 

Steve is leaning against the kitchen counter, merely watching as you struggle with your phone. You’re trying to go up on the couch of the living room, elevating your phone in hopes of catching a wi-fi signal. 

Steve’s lips curl at that sight, it’s nice to see you so desperate, so needy for something. 

“Darling, I told you we don’t have any internet here.” he patiently reminds you as if you’re a child. Your hand drops as you gasp in horror, looking back at him.

“But…but…I need it, Steve.” you whine, a pout starting to form on your glossy lips. It makes Steve’s dick feel alive, he likes it when you beg. But right now, he has to be stern about this. 

“No, you don’t. A few days without that annoying device won’t kill you.” he places his hands at his hips, his tone getting sterner. 

“But-”

“Enough, goddamnit!” 

You immediately shut up, frightened by Steve’s shout. The hand holding your phone slowly falls down and you look at Steve, shocked. His face turns almost remorseful for a moment, but then that expression disappears and he returns to his normal self again.

“Now, let me show you around. You’re going to love the house, the master bedroom is really huge and has one of those big television screens, the garden is just…” Steve rambles like he didn’t just snap at you. 

He offers you a wide smile, motioning towards the stairs with one of his huge hands, but you remain glued to your spot, hand strongly clutching the phone as if your life depends on it. Ironic since it doesn’t even have a signal.

“I think I wanna go home.” you declare with a shaken voice. Steve’s smile disappears and an impatient expression takes over. 

“Nonsense. We just got here, honey.” Steve rubs his face, as if he’s tired. His voice starting to have an annoyed accent, making his irritation more obvious. You don’t like that. 

“I want to go back.” you repeat, stepping out of the couch and starting to head towards the main door. 

As soon as your hand reaches for the handle, a muscled arm bars the door. You turn your head towards Steve, his brows united in an irritated frown. 

“Why do you always have to be a fucking brat?” he raises his voice and you immediately take a step back. He’s never spoken to you in this way. 

“Oh now is when you decide to get scared? Not when those creeps comment on your slutty pictures online. Maybe that’s what you like, huh?” He darkly chuckles, seeing you scared. 

You keep your silence, your heart throbbing in your ears. The door is so close but you know that with Steve around, you’ll never actually get to leave. This new Steve is starting to scare you. 

But you can’t go against him, you have no idea what he’ll do yet one thing is clear: he’s much stronger than you are. 

As the silence uncomfortably grows, Steve lets out a sigh and removes his hand. You don’t dare to move, knowing that he won’t let you leave. 

“Listen, I just want to spend some quality time with my girlfriend. Is that too much to ask?” he says, his voice sounding honest and apologetic. Like he’s the old Steve. 

You look at him and that's when it strikes you. You can’t leave without the car.

Steve is the one that drove all the way here and you did notice the house being located in a secluded area, no stores and no other houses around.

It took almost one hour by car to get here, no way you’d be able to find your way back without the car. Whose keys are with Steve. 

You stiffly nod and Steve immediately takes your hand with a strong hold. 

“Let’s go on with the house tour then. You’re going to love it, honey.” 

Silence and darkness rules over the entire house. No city sounds that usually disturb the night. You don’t like it, it’s too peaceful for your taste.

It’s boringly calm, but Steve probably loves it hence he fell asleep so fast. You can’t hear a single sound coming from his room, meaning that he’s most certainly asleep. 

It’s time, then. 

You rise from the bed and silently tiptoe towards the living room, not even bothering to grab your bag or to dress in warmer clothes. You’re eager to get out of this horrible place already and once you reach the city, you’ll just break-up with Steve and move on with your life. 

You saw Steve placing both the house and the car keys inside a bowl on the counter, next to the door after dinner. It’s perfect, when you think about it.

You can lock Steve inside and take the car. Not that a weak lock would do much against Steve’s inhuman strength but the idea grows into you, it doesn’t hurt to lock a door.

Finally reaching the living room, you almost run towards the counter. You immediately dip your hand into the bowl, only for your fingers to grab air. Your eyes widen in horror and when you look, it's empty. 

A cough is heard from behind you and your heart drops to your feet. 

No, no. 

This cannot be happening, not when you were so close to freedom. You squint your eyes tight for a moment, trying to muster up some courage before you finally turn around.

Steve is leaning against a wall, a slightly annoyed but mostly arrogant expression on his face.

A growing smirk curls his lips, amused to see you try to get away when in reality you'd never be able to do so. You were too busy with your phone to realize that the house had an eletric fence, one that required a code to open. Silly you.

“Looks like you’re stuck here with me, babe” 

[fxckn-sxck-fr]

lowk FUCKED up, butttttttttttttt would any of the comic book yanderes lobotomize their darling? we always talkin about willingness and shit saur... ya know!! just a lil off the top if ykwim

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐂 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐄𝐒…

!!! GN reader, take a wild guess (lobotomies), neurological terms used, basic delusional behaviors, unethical uses of superpowers, unethical practices in general, mentions of brain dead/vegetative/mentally handicapped reader, Hal’s part briefly describes actual lobotomy procedures, Joker jumpscare in Harvey’s, gaslighting, a small history lesson here and there, themes of forced drug abuse, Tim Drake being a good candidate for the Saw franchise.

GRRRRAAAAAAAARRRRGGGHGHHHRRR. Anon, come over here so I can give you a lil forehead smooch. I’ve always wanted to write a yan lobotomy blurb, but… I didn’t really know what direction I wanted to go. Or who to write about. The idea is was legit, “hee hee, wouldn’t it be silly if there was a yandere lobotomy fic” and that’s about it. So I guess this is my chance to get some feelings out about that, yay!!

A few of these are a bit longer than usual cuz this type of shit is my jam. I also didn’t know if you wanted me to rank them on least to most likely, so shoot me a follow up ask if that’s what you wanted. Mwah!!

Bruce Wayne: Definitely not off the table. I’m willing to bet Thomas Wayne had at least one book on lobotomies; just an antique hardback that makes for an interesting read. I can see young Bruce sitting on his father’s lap in the study, tiny hands tracing over the book’s old diagrams as Thomas lovingly describes all of the morbid things they’d do to people (you know, classic father/son bonding activities). Who knew it would actually come in handy one day? Moral repercussions be damned, my man can pull off a sick lobotomy. There are of course factors he has no control over — such as your own brain plasticity and cognitive function — but that’s not exactly his fault, now is it? What your brain decides to do post-lobotomy has nothing to do with him (jokes aside, he’d be devastated if you were totally fucked up afterwards… though he’d easily adapt).

Bucky Barnes: I think he’s had enough mind-meddling of his own to give this a hard pass. It doesn’t matter how bad you are; he’s not doing anything to your brain. You’ll learn to behave on your own accord. And thank god, cuz bro would NOT make a good brain surgeon. He’d brick you so fast. Also, fun fact, the Soviets were actually the first to ban lobotomies (if memory serves correct; Google is backing me up, so… do with that what you will). I don’t know if this carries over to the KGB and their little secret evil organization side shenanigans, but yeah. Let it be known that the chances of lobotomized Bucky went down by… like… 3%.

Clark Kent: At first, I was about to say no, but then I remembered the Justice Lords from the JL cartoon, and… you know what? Maybe. It would be a very low chance, but if it’s gotten to the point where you’re a danger to yourself, Clark would have no other choice. What else can he do? Your safety always comes first and foremost. While the two dots singed into your forehead would raise a few brows, it’s not like he lets you out much anyway. He’d spend a long time trying to cope with the guilt. He did this to save you… he just had to save you from yourself. At least his heat vision is precise enough that he wouldn’t fuck it up. Now all that’s left to do is hope that you turn out okay. He’ll consider it a job well done if you can at least still smile at him.

Dick Grayson: He really isn’t that much different from Bruce, is he? Yeah, he’d do it. Maybe with a few more reservations, but he’d still do it. I think it’s in your best interest if you don’t let him spiral this far, because he’s not against the idea of you being in a completely vegetative state. Yeah, it would suck that you aren’t as active of a participant as he’d want you to be, but having complete control over your care is good enough for him. He’ll easily let his own delusions fill that void. Honestly, a part of him might even hope you turn out with a mental capacity of a toddler. It’s the best of both worlds; while you can still respond to your environment, you also rely heavily on his care. Perfectly pliable in his hands… a dream come true! Yay!

Hal Jordan: Nah. He’s good. Last he checked, he’s not the most qualified person in the world to quite literally poke around in someone’s brain. Hell, even the thought of it makes him sick. No drilling holes into skulls, no skewering needles through eye sockets, no thanks! He’ll leave that up to the people who can stomach the grosser shit. Now, is the thought of a quick operation that theoretically fixes your bratty behavior tempting? Sure. But Hal’s not an idiot; he knows the risks, and those risks just don’t seem worth it. There’s a reason lobotomies are unethical nowadays. Unless the topic comes up in some sort of show or movie, the thought wouldn’t even cross his mind.

Harvey Dent: Neither Harvey nor Two Face are all that keen on the idea. They might’ve done some fucked up shit to you (definitely Two Face more than Harvey), but a lobotomy? That’s just a new level of fucked up. A Joker level of fucked up, even (and the thought of being compared to that piece of shit makes both sides of Dent want to light up an entire room). Besides, there’s no one on the entire planet he’d trust to pull off a procedure like that on you. While he might know a guy or two who would totally do it in this day and age, he’d sooner put a bullet in their brain than let them fuck around with yours. That being said, don’t think you’re totally out of the woods. At the end of the day, it’s all up to the coin, remember?

Jaime Reyes: Would Jaime? No. Absolutely not. It’s unethical, it’s fucked, and it’s also just gross. Anything to do with surgery makes him feel extremely squeamish, and he might actually pass out if he thinks about it too hard. But would Khaji Da? Yeah. Probably. Though it would have to be an extreme scenario, where you’re just completely beyond controlling. Khaji Da knows the risks, and while he’ll execute the technical aspects flawlessly, the results are naturally unpredictable. It would be unfortunate if the scarab lost its host’s mate. Your poor little noggin is at the mercy of Jaime’s resolve. Is he in full control? Then don’t worry, his incoherent mutterings about severing connections in your prefrontal cortex are nothing but his weird intrusive thoughts. But… if he isn’t… uh-oh.

Peter Parker: Nope. No lobotomies here. He’s quite aware of the repercussions, both morally and practically. Honestly, he doesn’t even see most of your behaviors as something in need of correcting in the first place. Maybe if you were causing yourself any sort of harm, but other than that, he can put up with a lot of your bullshit. Talking back? Name calling? Hitting and kicking? Straight-up just being abusive? As long as you don’t leave him, he’ll work with it! Peter is the exact definition of a pushover yandere. You can get away with a lot, and that includes not getting lobotomy!

Reed Richards: I can see him pulling one off. Is it the most desirable outcome? Definitely not. But there’s only so much he can put up with before he finally puts his foot down. If you’re the insubordinate type, you’ve probably given him at least 17 heart attacks by now, and it’s only natural he’d come up with a way to curb those behaviors. See, me personally, if I were to get a lobotomy from any of these men, I’m calling up Reed. He’s no neurologist, but I’m sure he can whip up something to study your brain waves and accurately predict the outcome of a lobotomy. Plus, he’d probably have the safest environment and instruments for the operation. You won’t feel a thing, trust. Now let’s hope months of collecting data and trial runs on some less-than-willing test subjects pay off!

Remy LeBeau: Yeah, no… probably not. Thanks to Sinister, he knows first hand how invasive a lobotomy is. You’d have to be really unstable for him to even consider that idea. He definitely has the means to do it — all he has to do is put a finger up to your forehead and burn through your frontal lobe — but having the resolve to do it is a different story. While he might’ve turned out semi-okay post-lobotomy, there’s no telling what would happen after yours. Way too risky. Only something to consider as a totally nuclear option. So don’t make him do something he’d rather not, okay? It’d be better for you, better for him, better for everyone.

Scott Summers: Like Gambit, he’s a victim of Sinister’s fuckery but 10 times worse. I don’t think he’d be able to stomach the thought of doing anything surgical to you no matter how disobedient you are. But… maybe we can make this a little interesting. Scott’s attracted some hella weird attention over the years… who’s to say someone like Sinister wouldn’t get his hands on you and do a little fucking around? Maybe Goblin Queen? A particularly pissed off Phoenix? While Scott himself wouldn’t dare lobotomize you, I think there’s some people out there who would. Or, hear me out: mind controlled Cyclops almost crushing your skull with an optic blast. It would be more blunt force than an actual lobotomy, but I’m willing to bet it would fuck up your cognitive function all the same. Despite the immense horror and guilt he’d feel afterwards, a small part of him can see it as a blessing in disguise (depending on how you turn out, that is).

Steve Rogers: Honestly, Cap was frozen at the funniest point in history ever. The amount of lobotomies increased exponentially from the 40s to 50s (mind you, WWII ended in 1945), and then antipsychotics were introduced as a more ethical way to treat mental illness, which Steve wouldn’t know shit about. Unfortunately for all of my fellow sickos out there, lobotomies were probably never a thing Steve liked about the 40s, but allow me to offer an alternative. Steve thinks there’s clearly something wrong with your mental health; why else would you act like you hate him? Luckily for him, this is the 21st century, where people know much more about mental illnesses and disorders. He could easily pull some strings as Captain America and get you the help you so obviously need. So, I guess the question is, how many different prescriptions of antipsychotics can one take at once? Guess you’ll find out!

Tim Drake: So… uh… y’all better pray that he doesn’t get any intrusive thoughts about this shit. And if he does, PRAY that he snaps out of his weird fit before it’s too late. DO NOT LET BRO COOK. I don’t think he’d totally fuck it up or anything, but the chances of him spiraling and performing more than one are dangerously high. You might find the out hard way just how much poking and prodding a brain can take before it shuts down. Depending on how manic he is, he might actually lobotomize you while you’re conscious. No anesthesia, no painkillers, just him pouncing on you with a hammer and pick. You will be rawdogging this lobotomy like god intended. That’s when he’d fuck your shit up. Unless you want him to brick your brain, you better fight him off and wrestle those tools out of his hands. The post-manic episode clarity would be insane. “Uh… sorry I tried to give you a lobotomy.” Cool, man. Okay.

Wally West: Wally “if you need to give someone a lobotomy, that’s honestly a skill issue” West. Who needs that shit when you’re THE master manipulator? It would take some god-tier perception (or paranoia) to see through a fraction of his act, and even so, what good will any of that do when he’s got everyone else wrapped around his finger? Fighting against him is a dangerous game. If need be, he’ll play the loving caretaker while you’re the loony one. Poor Wally… he’s trying to help you through your issues, and this is the thanks he gets? Wow. Now, for the sake of a little exploration, I think it’s important to note that Wally could theoretically go through with it (by phasing his hand through your skull and solidifying at the right angle), but that sounds way too unstable to pull off. It would probably run the risk of turning your brain into a soup, and I’m pretty sure that kills people.