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[steverogerspocwife]

✨ℜ𝔞𝔫𝔰𝔬𝔪 𝔇𝔯𝔶𝔰𝔡𝔞𝔩𝔢 𝔐𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱✨

ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ: 🖤 ᴅᴀʀᴋ 🤍 ꜱᴏꜰᴛ!ᴅᴀʀᴋ ❤️ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ 💖 ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ ❤️‍🩹 ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ 😂 ᴄᴏᴍᴇᴅʏ (ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴄᴀɴ ɪ ꜱᴀʏ, ɪ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴊᴏᴋᴇ) 👻 ʜᴏʀʀᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ

☼ 🖤🤍❤️ᴜᴘ ᴀʟʟ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ᴛᴏ ɢᴇᴛ ʟᴜᴄᴋʏ (ᴅᴀʀᴋ ᴀʟᴘʜᴀ!ʀᴀɴꜱᴏᴍ x ᴏᴍᴇɢᴀ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

☼ 🖤🤍❤️ ᴅᴏᴘᴘᴇʟɢÄɴɢᴇʀ 1 || 2 || 3|| 4|| 5|| 6||(ᴅᴀʀᴋ!ʀᴀɴꜱᴏᴍ ᴅʀʏꜱᴅᴀʟᴇ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ʟʟᴏʏᴅ ʜᴀɴꜱᴇɴ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ) ᴏɴɢᴏɪɴɢ

🎀  𝒟𝓇𝒶𝒷𝒷𝓁𝑒𝓈  🎀

⭐️❤️ ᴘᴇᴛ ᴘʟᴀʏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʀᴀɴꜱᴏᴍ

⭐️🖤 ʜᴀɴᴅᴘɪᴄᴋᴇᴅ (ᴅᴀʀᴋ!ʀᴀɴꜱᴏᴍ ᴅʀʏꜱᴅᴀʟᴇ x ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ) ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ

[steverogerspocwife]

Dating Yandere Superman Would Include:

As a Yandere he loves deeply and would do almost anything to protect you even if it ends up with someone getting hurt. He can be violent and can be obsessive and possessive but the one thing that defines him is how much he loves you.

He can be quite possessive and jealous. He might stalk you or even physically intimidate you. He would also likely have unhealthy coping mechanisms such as stalking, obsessing, and even violence.

He wants your affection and needs to be close to you always being with you and holding you. Anyone who comes near you or your friends will feel his presence and his desire to claim you as his.

He tends to be violent and unpredictable sometimes he's not himself as a Yandere, he hurts others because he sees them as threats or obstacles getting in his way of love. He would do anything to 'protect' you at all costs even if it’s unethical and wrong.

He can be controlling and paranoid. He tends to believe if he lets you out of his sight that someone else will steal you away or worse. He has a habit of trying to keep tabs on you and making sure you are alright even if that includes tapping into your things.

He can be manipulative to get his way. But he does love and care for you deep down. If you don't like him anymore or if you move on from him, he's capable of becoming unstable and not taking it well and he can become very dangerous to himself.

He can be both clingy and possessive. He would go as far as hurting himself just to make you worry about him. He can be very impulsive and unpredictable. He has no problem destroying or getting rid of anything or anyone that stands in the way of his love.

He is a devoted, possessive lover with a penchant for violent outbursts. He loves intensely, hates with every fiber of his being, and will do anything to ensure that your interest remains his. His violent outbursts tend to be targeted towards those whom he considers a threat to his love for you, though he has been known to direct it inward at himself as well.

He enjoys spending time alone with the person he loves, and enjoys taking care of you. He can be very controlling, demanding that you follow his rules and desires, and becoming enraged when his authority is challenged. He sees no problem using guilt trips and emotional blackmail to get his way.

Before getting together, once he sets his sights on you he feels as if he's a hopeless romantic and can be rather manipulative when it comes to acquiring and maintaining said love. He's not above using his powers of seduction to ensnare hearts, and he can be quite persistent in his efforts to convince you to return his feelings.

He is loyal, protective, and extremely territorial. His obsessive love and possessive nature can manifest in a variety of ways, making him both an exhilarating and dangerous romantic partner.

He will do anything and everything to ensure that you never leave him, even if it means using less-than-honorable methods. He is deeply insecure and often takes this out on those around him. His violent outbursts can be unpredictable and sometimes even unprovoked. He tends to be controlling and manipulative, using guilt trips and other psychological tactics to ensure that you stay with him. On the bright side, he is extremely devoted and faithful to you and will go to extraordinary lengths to please you.

When he's on a date with you, he is obsessed with being with you alone, having your attention solely for himself, and making sure that you enjoy your time together. You are the only one he cares about and he wants you to feel as special as you make him feel. He will take you to your favorite restaurants, activities, or just anywhere you would like to go. He doesn't let anyone or anything get in the way of your time together.

Affection for you is his absolute life and essence. He will be overwhelmingly sweet and tender to you, showering you with endless hugs and kisses. He will be your safe haven and never let you go. He will do everything in his power to make you happy and make sure you never have to want for anything else. He will never stop loving you.

If you were to try and leave him, he would not allow it. He would hunt you down and bring you back by any means necessary. You are his, he feels you have no right to leave him and you have no right to be happy anywhere but in his arms.

Punishment to you is something that he will never do, as you are perfect in his eyes and deserve nothing but the best. However, if you were to act against his wishes, he would find ways to make up for your misdeed with endless pampering and affection. However, if someone were to harm or try to hurt you, he would spare no time and exact a harsh punishment on whoever dared to threaten you.

Punishment for those who try to harm or cause any ill will towards you would be swift and harsh. He would not stop until whoever was responsible for such a deed was dead and gone.

Rewards for you would involve constant love, affection, and pampering, but with a touch of domination. You will be treated like royalty and given everything he has to offer, but you will also be reminded, in many subtle ways, that you belong to him and it would be foolish for you to forget it.

His marriage to his soulmate would be a glorious affair, a day he has dreamed of and looked forward to for his entire life or at when he met you. He would make sure that every detail was perfect, down to the last decoration. The passionate love and joy he would feel would reverberate throughout the world and light the skies with shining brightness. He would devote his entire self to making the day as special and joyful as possible, and his love for you would be the focal point of it all.

Hair-pulling: He likes pulling and playing with your hair during sex or foreplay.

Rough Play: He likes it when things get kinky and wild, with elements of aggressiveness and dominance.

Power Exchange: He likes it when you give him control over you, allowing him to tell you what to do and how to behave.

Voyeurism: He enjoys watching you perform in front of him, such as stripping or performing some sort of sexual act.

Humiliation: He likes it when you degrade him in some way, making him feel embarrassed or humiliated and smaller.

[steverogerspocwife]

To find the light, we must first touch the darkness 

Please also check out @bluepinkangel​’s amazing hot moodboard for this universe 🖤

dark!mafia Steve Rogers x female reader

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

warnings: dark!Steve Rogers (really, he’s not a softie here, he dark); manipulation; blackmail; threats; power imbalance; 

specific warnings will be added for each chapter separately

*yeah I know the title is long, but I like it 😜 besides, each part will have it’s own little title

Chapter 1. Storm on the horizon  

Chapter 2. Lava in the snow

Chapter 3. In the eye of the storm

Chapter 4. Heated hail 

Chapter 5. Breaking ice

Chapter 6. Downpour

Chapter 7. TBT

Chapter 8. TBT

Chapter 9. TBT

Chapter 10. TBT

his fave position

pic inspired

if Princess was pregnant

birthday celebration

show of power

Steve vs your period

OVA

OVA II

[steverogerspocwife]

To find the light, we must first touch the darkness 

Please also check out @bluepinkangel​’s amazing hot moodboard for this universe 🖤

dark!mafia Steve Rogers x female reader

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

warnings: dark!Steve Rogers (really, he’s not a softie here, he dark); manipulation; blackmail; threats; power imbalance; 

specific warnings will be added for each chapter separately

*yeah I know the title is long, but I like it 😜 besides, each part will have it’s own little title

Chapter 1. Storm on the horizon  

Chapter 2. Lava in the snow

Chapter 3. In the eye of the storm

Chapter 4. Heated hail 

Chapter 5. Breaking ice

Chapter 6. Downpour

Chapter 7. TBT

Chapter 8. TBT

Chapter 9. TBT

Chapter 10. TBT

his fave position

pic inspired

if Princess was pregnant

birthday celebration

show of power

OVA

OVA II

[steverogerspocwife]

Lost Together I

Sequel to Forbidden Lessons

Warnings: possible dark elements such as noncon, age gap, abuse of power, coercion, mentions of suicide, depression, pregnancy and abortion, violence. Y'all know I do it dark and spicy. You have warnings, use them.

Note: I never really intended for Thor to get his own little thing but here we are.

Thots, comments, screaming, and feedback are welcome and highly encouraged. Thank you. Thanks all for following along.

You watch Loki drive off from the open door. The urge to run after him makes you sway but you resist. There's nothing else he can or will do for you. As ever, his kindness has a firm limit. Not truly generous, more obligatory.

That man, his brother, who bears no resemblance to him, shuffles around the foot of the stairs. You push the door shut and face him. He works incessantly at the table along the side of the staircase, brushing it with a long handle duster. He recoils suddenly and buries his nose in the crook of his elbow, expelling a thunderous sneeze.

"Uh," you feel a tingle yourself, "let me get the windows."

You scurry over the window to the left of the front door and pull back the heave drapes one at a time. The stirring of fabric releases another cloud of neglect. You stand on your toes to untwist the clasp and push the hinged panes outward.

You're out of breath as you cross to the other, doing the same and letting in the afternoon sunlight. Thor continues his diligent dusting, turning over a vase to dump out the build up within.

"Uh, I never knew Loki had a brother," you begin awkwardly.

"And I didn't know he had… you," he grins, the words amicable despite their intonation.

"Well, really, he doesn't… he's more stuck with me, I think."

"Ah, of course, why else would he leave you here," he turns to fix a frame on the wall, "apologies for the state… things have… gotten ahead of me."

"It's fine," you shrug.

"Would you like to put some music on?" He waves to you with the duster and points through the archway to your right, "my father left me his collection."

He directs you ahead of him with the sweep of his arm. You hesitate but go into the dark expanse of the new room. You hear a click and crackle and dozen bulbs light up overhead. A mosaic shade houses the glow and warms the space.

"There," Thor stands beside you, pointing to the corner before stepping ahead of you.

He goes to what looks to be a chest of drawers. There is a door to one side but no others. He nears and clutches the top, popping up the thin wooden lid to reveal a record player set into the peice of furniture.

You approach as he nods, "records are inside," he says.

You run your hand along the wooden door, the front woven with thin slats. You hook your finger into the handle and ease it open with a squeak. You bend to look at the collection within.

"Choose," he orders, "I'm not very picky."

You nod and thumb through the album covers, settling on Judy Garland at the at Carnegie Hall. You take it out and wipe off the front, holding back a sneeze. Thor offers to take it and you hand it over as he reads the title.

"Ah, one of my mother's," he beams as he slides out the record, "you have old-fashioned taste."

"I… guess," you clap your hands off as he puts the needle on a flips the switch.

"Please," he hovers his hand above your shoulder and stretches his arm towards the long couch, "you needn't help. You should keep off your feet."

He cross the room and shakes out the throw, thumping on the cushions to knock out the dusty residue. He hums and clucks.

"It'll do for now," he turns to you, "please, I will fetch some of… some old books."

"I don't mind. I'm not very far along, you know?"

"My mother would faint to think I let an expecting woman lift a finger," he shakes his head, "do you like tea? Oh, what kind of tea can you have…" he puts a finger to his chin, his matted beard straggling down to his chest.

"Let me make the tea," you offer.

"Little mouse," he puts his hands up, "you must relax," he pats the arm of the couch, "I promised Loki I would look after you."

"But…" you swallow your argument. It is his house. He might be embarrassed to share the mess with you. Better he cleans it himself, besides you're very tired. "Alright," you relent and come forward, "thank you, Thor."

He smiles and doesn't move until your sat in the corner of the couch. He retreats, almost reluctantly, and you languish in the rich crooning of Judy and the buzzing awe of her audience. You lean your head in your hand, you elbow over the rest. You can't help but think how sad this place has been after seeing its occupant.

He mentioned a woman, Jane. Perhaps his wife, and his parents. All gone. You suppose he needs some hope. His excitement nips at your dread. How can your life sentence be his chance to start again?

You hear distant clank and sit up straight. You shimmy to the front of the cushion but keep from standing. He can manage himself, you just have that inherent need to help.

Your eyes rove the darkened edge of the room. A spacious den with bookshelves along one wall, two armchairs to match the sofa, a long coffee table on an intricately patterned rugs, a console table behind the sofa and a bench before the unlit fireplace.

"I found some herbal tea," Thor announces as he startles you, "hope you don't mind blueberry."

"That's good," you accept as he comes around with a dainty tea cup on a saucer. It looks ridiculous in his hands.

"Right, yes, books," he puts it on the square table by your elbow, "you like reading?" He goes to the bookshelves, "I suppose you have the pick of the lot. I'm not very attached to any of them."

"Thanks," you say again, "really, it's so nice of you–"

"I will have a room ready for your tonight," he declares as he spins on his heel, "yes, you need somewhere to sleep."

You give a smile, the only response you can muster before he's lumbering out, rambling about clean sheets and extra pillows. Well, he is very much unlike his brother.

[steverogerspocwife]

☠️ — 𝐒𝐚𝐥𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝

summary. | Steve Rogers and his wife have a precarious arrangement in which she can have as many affairs as she likes, as long as she doesn’t ask for a divorce. But a man like him only has so much patience. And there you are, his child’s babysitter, too sweet to resist.

pairings. | Dark!Steve Rogers x baby-sitter!fem!reader, Steve Rogers x Peggy Carter (brief), Peggy Carter x numerous OMCs (implied/mentioned).

warnings. | NON/DUB-CON (leaning more towards dubious consent), smut, age gap, Halloween celebrations, deceit, manipulation, Steve is mean to his wife, obsession, possessiveness, implied murder (not the reader), mentions of masturbation (m), fingering (f), kissing, nipple play, Sir kink, mild Daddy kink, creampie, dirty talk, power dynamics/imbalance, praise, mild degradation, pet names (sweetheart, sweetie, honey, baby, love), missionary, rough sex, mentions of exhibitionism, mentions of riding, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

word count. | ~4.8k

author’s note. | hello! happy belated halloween! i know i’m a bit late—i’m sorry. here’s the dark!steve fic i was talking about. it’s a Deep Water!AU. please enjoy and heed the warnings! thank you @cuttlefjsh for beta-ing and putting up with me! let me know what you think. thank you for reading! taglist: @hansensfics. MINORS DNI! 18+ ONLY

The leaves fall apart underneath the pace of his feet. The hill slopes downwards, and the branches snap and hit the ground. Steve keeps pushing—keeps running even though he’s long devolved from a jog. The burn in his lungs is beautiful. He’s breathless.

For once, he doesn’t have to think about little Sarah and her mother. He doesn’t have to worry like a housewife, even though he was once the man of the house.

Millions in revenue. Two vacation homes. Endless income. But it’s never enough for her.

When Steve reaches the creek, he stops. The Apple watch on his wrist clocks in an unhealthy amount of steps. Unhealthy for everyone else, at least. He’s always been above average, and now he’s just like the rest.

Another greying head in the sea of a crowd. Another typical client his shrink has with the same old problems—a cheating wife, a midlife crisis.

His phone buzzes, and Steve half-expects a reminder he doesn’t need. But it’s better—so much better than he could ever predict.

It’s you—your name with a heart. His spouse doesn’t even have that—she’s just got her entire government name with “wife” in parentheses.

Hi, Mr. Rogers. Hope you enjoyed your weekend! I wanted to confirm that I’m coming tonight. I texted Mrs. Rogers yesterday, but I haven’t received a reply yet. Sorry to be pushy. I just need to know in time. Thanks, and Happy Halloween! 🎃

He sighs. He’s never understood why you always go to Peggy first, even though you’ve seen her incompetency more than you do your own family. He’ll have a talk with you tonight—while Peggy is out on a date with her latest suitor.

Hey, honey. I hope your weekend is as wonderful as you are. Yes, we’re still on for tonight. Don’t worry about my wife. From now on, just come to me, okay? Be here by 7:00, please. Thanks. Happy Halloween! 👻

Steve replies a few minutes later, but you read his message immediately. The timestamp makes him smile. Soon, the ‘typing’ icon pops up and following it is your message.

Great, thank you so much! See you then :)

You even leave a ‘heart’ on his text message; he does the same to yours. A sigh escapes the older man’s chest. His heart has returned to its regular rate, and the sweat on his back has cooled.

The scene before him is gorgeous—but doesn’t even hold a candle to your beauty. The thought of you is more addictive than any illicit substance. It calms him down when he needs to and riles him up at the worst times.

Steve says it’s not fair. Peggy shouldn't have all the fun with her boyfriends—even when her husband gets rid of them quicker than need be. It’s exhausting to deviate from law enforcement for a woman who doesn’t care about her own family.

She gets to devise grand schemes and say mean words to him. She doesn’t bother with her own daughter. She doesn’t lift a finger or pay for a thing with money she earned. Steve has to live in the shadows—and he’s tired of it.

The almost 50-year-old man follows his usual trail back home. Sirens pass behind him, heading toward some emergency that he undoubtedly has nothing to do with. Not this time, at least.

He feels like a dog in the manger. Everyone can have Peggy (to a certain extent), but he can’t have anyone himself.

Fake cobwebs and pumpkins sit outside houses on each side of the road. It’s the spookiest night of the year, yet you have no plans. No parties to attend with some stupid little boyfriend who wouldn’t know how to fuck you the way he would.

When Steve unlocks the front door, he finds his wife’s heels strewn on the floor and his daughter watching cartoons in the living room. He kisses Sarah’s head and ensures she’s eaten the entirety of her breakfast. He tried his best with ghost-shaped pancakes, though they turned out more like blobs than anything. She doesn’t mind at all.

Sarah’s a brainiac, her new hobby being those kits that teach you how to hook wires into potatoes and other vegetables. Steve applauds her creations every time she shows them off, noting the little technological genius in her that he must’ve contributed to.

That is, if he’s her biological father.

The television screen plays her choice of cartoons, with a Halloween theme for the special day. He smiles when she laughs before heading upstairs.

Peggy has the largest room with the nicest furniture. She spends little time there unless she’s getting ready to go out or recovering from a hangover.

Steve knocks on her door. Despite there being no answer, he unlocks it and lets himself in. His wife is wide awake, eye makeup smudged a bit, but she’s wearing her signature jeans with a tank top.

She turns around and smiles at the sight of him. “What do you think?” she asks, gesturing to the costume she has laid out.

It’s a vampire—that’s as much as he gathers. The little voice in his head tells him how fitting it is—Peggy has sucked the life out of him for the last seven years.

“Perfect,” Steve tells her, giving her his most forced smile, and they both know she sees right through it.

“Good. And what are you going as?” she questions, turning her back to him. He genuinely contemplates this for a second.

For the last few years, he’s always worn a cheap cape and said he’s a superhero. But he’s tired of the same thing all the time.

“I’m not sure. I’ll come up with something, though. What time are you leaving?” Steve asks. “Oh, probably around six. Don’t wait up for me. You’ll take Sarah trick-or-treating, right?” Peggy smiles, unwilling to take ‘no” for an answer.

Steve says nothing and simply leaves. He takes his phone out of his pocket—sleek screen and a photo of you and Sarah as one of his wallpapers—and pulls up his conversation with you.

Hey, hon. Do you mind coming a bit earlier? 6:30 will do.

He doesn’t even have to wait for your reply.

Sure! Do you want me to stay the night, too? I don’t mind.

Always diligent. Always a sweetheart.

Please do. The door will be unlocked.

You give his message a thumbs-up, and he sighs.

Tonight will be the night. Tonight, he’ll finally get what he wants, and no one can stop him. Not even you.

You give the door a knock three times, even though you’re more than welcome to simply enter. It feels wrong, though. Too familiar, too casual.

Halloween is one of your favourite holidays. It’s a day full of excitement and creativity, and the month leading up to it is terrific. The turning leaves and the cold weather that lets you wear your coziest sweaters. The candy is the cherry on top of the entire delicacy.

You’ve never been on for extravagant costumes due to your procrastination. Tonight, you’re an angel. You don an all-white get-up; a lace dress, sheer tights, and matching shoes. You have a borrowed halo on your head and floppy wings on your back. It’s the best you can do for now.

Steve opens the door a few moments later, and he’s wearing a black suit. His hair is gelled, and he has a toothy grin—a change from his usual scowl. You smile at the sight of him.

“Happy Halloween!” you cheer, and he laughs. “Happy Halloween, sweetheart. What are you supposed to be? The devil?” he jokes. “Hardy-har-har. I’m an angel. But what are you? A CEO?” you ask, raking your eyes up and down his body.

The older man basks in your attention, his ears burning red.

“Actually, I’m a groom. Something different from the superhero thing, you know? It was the only thing I could come up with,” he sheepishly admits, and you wave his shyness away. “I love that! I never see anyone do something simple yet unique. But no decorations?”

You glance back at his front lawn and see nothing but withered flowers and yellow leaves from the neighbour’s over-arching tree. His porch simply has a bowl of candy with a threatening “TAKE ONE (1)” sign, assumingly written by Sarah.

“Nope. But there’s always next year!” he reassures. You giggle and nod your head. Your cheeks burn from smiling so much. Do you find him amusing? Or is it forced? Steve has numerous questions running through his mind, some exciting the butterflies in the attic that is his stomach, and some boiling his blood.

“C’mon in. No jacket? You must be freezing. You’re better than that, honey,” he chides like the father he is. He locks the door behind you—chain and all. “I didn’t think it’d be this cold,” you admit, removing your shoes. Steve takes them from you and places them on the rack where Peggy’s usual ankle boots would be.

You note the absence of her items and the lack of noise from the television. You don’t pay them much mind.

“Ah, rookie mistake. If you want, you can borrow a jacket from me,” he offers, picking up a stray black feather from the floor. You set your small backpack on the bottom step and follow his lead.

“So… What’s Sarah’s costume? She kept talking about being a minion, and then a cow, so I’m not too sure,” you laugh, and Steve does the same. “Peggy wanted her to be one of those Mario characters, but you know Sarah. Tonight, she’s Albert Einstein. Including the wig, of course.”

When you enter the clean living room, you expect to see her adorable face dressed as the notorious physicist. But she’s not there—and neither are the family photos.

“Um, sir, where is she?” you question, and he gestures to one of the sofas. You take a seat and wait for his return. He comes back with two drinks and hands you one of them. “Sarah is at her grandma’s. Peggy is at one of those parties she always goes to,” Steve coolly explains.

“Oh, are we going there? Or do you want me to stay back and give candy out?” You take a sip of your drink—a cherry limeade you once raved about to him. The sparkling water fizzles on your tongue. “No, she’ll be going trick-or-treating with her cousins.”

There’s a beat. A moment. And it lasts for a while.

“Uh, so what am I doing here?” you query. “Sweetheart. I’m a bit disappointed. You probably think that’s all I want you here for, don’t you? C’mon, you’re more than a babysitter to me.”

Steve places emphasis on his last word. “I’m sorry, Mr. Rogers, but I really don’t understand what you’re implying,” you profess, downing more of your drink out of sheer nervousness. Are you being fired? Are they moving? Did you do something wrong?

“Oh, honey, c’mere,” he says, even though he comes to you. He moves from his position across from you—standing tall in his full, towering height. Steve sits down next to you and places his large, warm hand on your cold left thigh. “Don’t be scared. M’not gonna hurt you. You’re not in trouble,” he says in a low tone.

When he’s this close to you, you can see the details of his face entirely. Whenever you’ve tried to admire him from afar, it’s like he knows when you’re looking.

“You’re so sweet… So pretty. I bet you’re nice and soft, too, hm? And you’ll be a good girl for me?” he asks, and you furrow your brows. You open your mouth to say something to him, but you’re quickly shut up with a searing kiss.

Steve presses his lips against yours, and it’s better than anything he could have ever imagined. The fantasies he’s had during those late nights or showers with his fist wrapped around his cock don’t even compare.

He takes charge, pushing his tongue inside your mouth and exploring within. His strong hands scoop you into his lap, one of them holding the back of your head. You lean back as Steve’s forwardness dominates you. You’re not sure what to do, so you place your palms on his shoulders and use a bit of force to try to push him away.

The married man doesn’t budge. It’s getting hard to breathe, and you feel like he’s sucked the air out of your lungs. You sink your teeth down lightly on what you think is his tongue, and he hisses as he pulls away.

“Sir– We can’t do this. It isn’t right. I– I mean, you’re my boss, and you have a wife—and poor Sarah, she doesn’t deserve this–”

“Fuck Peggy. Do you really think she cares? I don’t love her, never have. I only love you, darling. Now, what you just di–”

“Love me? Mr. Rogers, I think you’re mistaken. Maybe it’s just because we’re alone, or you and Peggy have been distant, but you don’t love me, Sir. I won’t mention this to anyone, I swear. And I’ll find another job if you’d like,” you breathlessly explain, shaking your head.

Steve shushes you with a snarl. “You’re not leaving me.” His voice is stern, and his tone says it all—there’s no arguing. “Please,” you try to get off the older man’s lap, but he holds onto you tightly. “We’re perfect for each other, honey. Don’t you see? Sarah loves you, and you love her. And look! I’m your groom, and you’re my angelic wife,” he exclaims, pulling the halo and ripping the wings off.

You gasp at his strength and audacity. You’d try to fight him, but you know you’d end up more hurt than anything. “Please don’t make this difficult,” he demands, adding your name. The mention makes you flinch, as he rarely says it.

“Look at those eyes… All blown out. I bet you’re soaking, aren't you?” Steve asks, but you don’t reply. His blue irises seem much darker in the dim lighting. His pupils are wide, and it’s like looking at a man who’s been possessed. “You’re probably making a mess of your panties, and we’ve barely even started. Does that always happen when you’re around me? Gosh, I bet you smell so sweet.”

His words make you whimper, and he smiles. “Oh, and look at those perfect tits,” he hums, groping them. Your nipples are stiff as peaks, and the rough touch from Steve has you shuddering. “Pl– Please,” you beg as he pulls at the nubs. The pain teeters on pleasure, and you squeeze your thighs to put an end to the thrumming at your core.

“‘Please,’ what, sweetie? Hm?”

“Please, Sir,” you whisper.

The title makes him groan. “Fuck, you don’t know how long I’ve been wanting you,” Steve expresses. You don’t want to know. “Ever since we met… D’you remember that floral dress you wore? That you kept pulling up? God, I wanted to take you right there…”

You remember that day all too well. Seeing Mr. Rogers in all his glory was riveting, and the slight crush you developed lives on. Now—you’re not sure. Your brain is a mess, and you can’t think straight.

Your boss lifts you up bridal style, and he doesn’t let this go unnoticed. “See? We were meant for each other, honey. And we don’t even need a wedding.”

He sets you down on the bed in the room on the main floor. You’ve stayed here from time to time when Peggy likes to come out at two in the morning, and Steve is beyond worried for her.

Was it all a farce? You remember those times and how he never called her or insisted on picking her up.

Steve’s hands pull at your cheap dress, and he rips it down the middle. You regret your choice of not wearing a bra, but either way, it would’ve done nothing.

He cups your breasts, and you moan at the touch. He latches his mouth onto one nipple as he plays with the other. His mouth is skilled—his tongue flicking and teeth slightly grazing the sensitive skin.

Mr. Rogers’ fingers are just as talented. They pinch, pull, and twist at your other peak simultaneously. He switches eventually, and you’re a puddle beneath the imposing man.

Your back is arched slightly, and you’re practically pushing your chest into his face, and he chuckles. “So desperate. You need me so badly, don’t you?” he says, nodding his head and smiling when you mimic him for a split second. “Atta girl—so good for me.”

Steve pulls back, and you whine. He soothes you and pulls his jacket off. You can see the ripples of muscle beneath the white collared shirt. He unbuckles his belt with swiftness. You gnaw on your bottom lip despite its swollenness.

Soon, he’s back on you. Your boss hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties, and he pulls them down your legs, admiring the strings of slick that break from the distance. He pushes the cloth into his pocket, and you clench when you think of the things he’ll do with it later on.

In your mind is a tiny voice that chides your every wrongdoing—how you haven’t fought back as much as you should. But there’s a louder one that was once lovesick over the married man before you, and it’s far more convincing.

Steve spreads your legs and curses at the sight of your sopping cunt. You involuntarily clench from the exposure. “You’ve got such a pretty pussy, baby,” he murmurs, leaning over you. One arm keeps him up, and the other bends your knees, giving him better access.

His fingers slide against your folds, collecting wetness as he caresses your lips. You let out a pleasured sigh, secretly wishing he would stop tormenting you and just get it over with. “So sensitive, too. I bet you’ll make such a mess on my cock.”

You never knew Steve could have such a filthy mouth—and God, do his words have your head spinning.

He quickly finds your swollen, throbbing clit and lightly touches it. The sensations on your little pearl are mild, but they’re enough to have you writhing beneath Steve. He draws light circles with the tips of his fingers. Your mouths brush against each other, and he teases you until you’re whispering pleas against his lips.

“Shh… It’s okay, love,” he reassures. Once he knows he has you worked up enough, Steve pushes the first digit into your pussy. The intrusion has you gasping, which turns into a whimper when he shoves another in. “Lookatcha, honey. You’re takin’ my fingers like a champ. This cunt is so tight, though. I’m really gonna have to stretch ya to fit my cock in there.”

The idea of his large cock barely fitting inside you makes your muscles involuntarily constrict against Steve’s fingers.

It takes a moment for you to adjust to the intrusion, though your walls welcome him like a familiar friend. His fingers are longer and thicker than yours, and with ease, he reaches that sweet spot most boys your age miss.

Eventually, Steve begins to fuck you on his hand. His digits slide in and out of you with ease as he picks up the pace. The skin glistens from your slick, and it’s a sight to behold. He creates a scissor motion with his two fingers every now and then, stretching you out while having you at his mercy.

It doesn’t take long for your moans to get louder while your face forms a frown of pleasure. The squelching sound of your cunt and that build-up just above your core are tell-tale signs that you’re about to come. “Oh, sir…!” you wail, and Steve picks up the pace.

“I can feel that cunt clenching on me, honey. God, you’re so beautiful this way. C’mon, make a mess on my hand. Come for me,” he rasps, rubbing his cheek against yours.

Your eyes squeeze shut when you come undone on Mr. Rogers’ hand. Your aching hole squeezes his fingers, and he makes you ride your orgasm out. Your back arches, and you let out a loud moan as pleasure shocks every nerve in your body. The lewd sounds of your cunt are noisy.

You find yourself immediately wanting more, even though you shouldn’t.

“Good girl—such a good girl for me,” Steve coos before slowly sliding his fingers out your channel. Your inner walls already miss the presence of his digits. You struggle to catch your breath, but in the midst of it all, you hear your boss pull the zipper to his pants down.

“I can’t wait to get inside of you, sweetie. I need you so badly it hurts,” he says while pressing kisses against the side of your neck. Steve climbs on top of you as he frees his aching cock from the confines of his boxers.

He grips himself by the base, his entire hand wrapped around his hardness. He gives himself a few strokes as pre-cum leaks from his slit, sliding down his bulbous head. His size is marvellous, a raging purplish-red with a thick base. Steve slaps the tip of his cock against your clit, and you flinch from the unexpected jolt of pleasure. “Fuck…” he curses.

“Are you looking, sweetie? This is such a special moment for us—I hope you remember it well,” he hums in your ear, and out of your natural obedient instinct, you lift your head to where you two are about to be connected. The sight of Steve’s cock makes you whimper. “Shit, what a good little slut.”

He drags the head of his dick through your dripping folds, and then he pushes in. The sudden stretch causes your skull to fall back against the bed. You try to close your legs, but Steve’s presence makes that impossible. He refuses to let you hide what’s his.

The older man completely sheathes himself inside your pussy. The squelching sound has you cringing in shame, but that quickly disappears when the feeling of fullness takes over. Steve’s balls touch your ass when he bottoms out, and your breathing is rapid from the sensuality of it all.

A hand wraps around your throat—though gentle, it scares you at first. Your eyes meet with Mr. Rogers’, and he looks at you with what appears to be adoration.

“You feel just like heaven,” he simply tells you. “I’m never letting you go after this—never was plannin’ on it, anyway.”

Before you can even process his words, Steve starts to fuck you. His pace is slow at first, and he hits your sweet spot with ease—a feat most boys your age are incapable of. Your moans are wanton and loud, teetering on the verge of pathetic for someone who was fighting against him at first.

“Oh, fuck,” you whimper, and your reaction makes Steve smile. “You love this, don’t you? Yeah, always knew you needed a real man to fuck this cunt.”

His thrusts are a bit quicker now, and he pulls in and out of your wet pussy roughly. The sound of skin on skin is thunderous, nearly covering up the wet noises from your stickiness. His thick cock shines from your juices. Steve ruts into you like a starved man—because he is one.

His pelvic bone hits your clit every now and then, and his swollen, heavy balls are against the curve of your ass. He’s relentless in claiming you as his, sucking, biting, and licking at the skin on your neck.

“Oh my God—Steve–” you mewl, the pleasure blooming inside you almost too much to handle.

“What’s wrong, honey? Are you gonna come again?” Steve questions with faux pity. He punctuates each word with a thrust, fat cock pushing into your tightness. “What a pathetic little slut, making such a big mess on her boss’ cock. And I’m married too. You just can’t help it, can you?” he teases, and his filthy words have you squeezing his length from the filthiness. He lets a groan out from the feeling, and he keeps the fervour going.

That elastic band inside your stomach begins to tighten, and you can feel another orgasm build up quickly. “Go ahead. Make a mess on Daddy’s dick, baby,” he urges, and as if on command, you cream around his thickness.

Your back arches off the bed, but you don’t go anywhere far with Steve’s chest keeping you pressed down. Your hardened nipples rub against the cloth of his shirt, and the added friction makes your climax all the more breathtaking. The older man pounds into your cunt vigorously.

Stars appear in your vision until you come back down. Mr. Rogers doesn’t stop fucking you, forcing you to endure the overstimulation. Even with your legs shaking, he refuses to give up. “Good girl—such a good whore for Daddy,” he praises. The tip of his cock pummels against your G-spot continuously.

Your tits bounce with each push of Steve’s cock. Sometimes, he grazes your cervix, but the mild pain dulls away when he presses chaste kisses to your face and brutalizes your g-spot. “‘S too much,” you mumble, legs involuntarily trying to close. “Nu-uh—It’s enough when I say it’s enough. Don’t worry, Daddy’s gonna fill up that pretty pussy real soon,” he says, and as if on cue, there’s a change in the way he pounds into your cunt.

His thrusts become more sloppy, but they keep the same passion and desperation that he started everything with. There’s an intensity you can’t describe because it just feels so fucking good. The hand on your neck moves and begins to caress the rest of your body. Your pulsating walls hug him, practically refusing to let go. Your skin is hot and sticky, just like his—if not more.

Wandering hands grope your body, going pliant underneath Steve. Guttural groans leave Steve’s mouth while you’re gasping endlessly. “Shit—you were made for taking this dick, sweetie. I’m gonna fill you up until you’re leaking down your thighs,” he promises, and the threat of it sounds terrific to your fucked-out mind.

“Be a good girl and soak Daddy’s cock one more time,” he orders. The blur between your previous climax and the one that takes you over now has your head spinning. You grasp the bedsheets from the overwhelming pleasure. A silent scream leaves your mouth, which Steve accompanies with a grunt followed by a string of curse words. “Fuck.”

You squeeze Steve’s length tightly, soaking him in your wetness. Electric shocks run down your spine and unto every nerve in your body. You feel like you’re floating for a split second. You’ve never come that hard—ever. It’s difficult to breathe, and Mr. Rogers is mean enough to make you take the euphoria he’s doling out.

Wetness stains the skin that surrounds where you two are filthily connected. Your ass is sticky, and some of your cream stains the trimmed hair at the base of Steve’s shaft. It’s a mess—one he intends on adding to with his semen.

His cock twitches inside your pussy, and with a final shove, he stills with his pelvis pressed against your clit. Steve’s balls clench, and he shudders as he reaches his own high. Ropes of cum spurt from the fat tip of the older man’s cock, painting your insides. The feeling makes you whimper as you’re filled to the brim with his seed.

For a few moments, Steve stays in that position, catching his breath while he recovers from his orgasm. Your eyes dance along his face, taking in the pinched yet relaxed look he dons.

Eventually, your boss resurfaces from the depths of his climax. You’re more than exhausted and have half a mind to fall asleep right then and there.

But the sound of the front door opening and closing shocks you from your stupor. Worry is written all over your features when Steve looks at you. “Aw, don’t worry, honey,” he hums, and though it may seem impossible, you can feel him get harder inside your pussy,

Whether it’s your evident fright or the thrill of getting caught, you’re not sure. Both make you dizzy.

Peggy’s notable accent slurs a call for Steve. “Think we should put on a show for her?” he jokes, grinding his cock further into your pussy.

You’re sure that no matter what you say, he won’t listen. And what will follow will be a nightmare you can’t escape.

But those thoughts ebb away when you hear your other boss curse a storm and abruptly leave, even though she hasn’t walked in on the pornographic scene that’s taking place in the guest room.

“Well, there’s always next time—if she’ll even make it,” Steve grumbles under his breath, but the words are too vague for you to dwell on them. “Think you’re up for round two, love? I wanna play with those tits while you ride my cock.”

For the nth time, your body betrays you and tells him your true desires. Either way, he still would’ve gotten what he wanted. Steve Rogers always gets what he wants.

[steverogerspocwife]

filthy just the way i like it :)

Kinktober Day 7: Forced Orgasm

dark!steve rogers x reader

word count - not a lot of k

a/n - i was not in the mood while writing this, so i'm sorry if it shows! it's also pretty short because this week/weekend has been a little hectic!

i hope i wrote this right! feedback is always appreciated!

warnings - use of y/n, kind of noncon (reader uses safeword but steve doesn't stop), filth, absolute filth,

READ AT YOUR OWN RISK AND NEVER IGNORE TRIGGER WARNINGS

Y/n was a very giving person. It was engraved into her sunshine-y nature to be generous and selfless, often times putting her own happiness (and pleasure) on the backburner.

This is why Steve was pounding into her from behind on their kitchen counter, absolutely railing her.

"You need this, Y/n, let me make you feel good," His beard tickled the back of your neck as her thrusted into your pussy.

Your hips were banging on the counter at a bruising pace, your boobs bouncing with each of his thrusts.

"Ahhh!" Steve's tattooed fingers came down to expertly rub at your clit. The pace he set was the polar opposite to the lightning fast snap of his hips. His fingers instead rubbed slowly and sensually, making your core burn.

If this wasn't your fourth orgasm of the night, you definitely wouldn't be so sensitive, but this was number four for crying out loud! Every touch of his fingers, lips and cock had you burning hotter and hotter as it took less and less time to push you over the edge.

To say you were overstimulated was an understatement, your cunt and inner thighs had gone numb about half way into your third orgasm, your clit puffy from all of Steve's generous attention.

Even though you were being pushed past your limits, you trusted Steve and knew that he would do what was best for you.

You squealed as his cock brushed against your g-spot at the same time his fingers pressed on your overused clit, causing your walls to spasm around his length. "Ah, Fuck," he moaned, nibbling at the skin between your shoulder and jaw.

"One more love, you can take it," He said. Steve had briefly stopped thrusting and pulled out, once again stopping his orgasm. Four times he had done that, making sure that tonight was all about his princess.

Unlike the last four rounds, Steve didn't make you change positions. He re entered you, making you scream in pleasure and pain. "Steve, no, please, I can't," You sobbed, fingers white from gripping the counter so hard.

"You can do it baby," He encouraged, slowly starting to move. You wailed out, begging him to stop. He slapped you cheek, "Shut up," He snarled before regaining his brutal pace. You screamed again, begging louder for him to pull out. He shushed you and kept fucking into you like you were his little toy.

Steve ruined you, fucking you so hard your toes lifted off the floor. His fingers found your mouth, shoving them down your throat to shut you up after you had started screaming your safeword. "Such a good little cumdump," He praised, twisting your nipples before moving back down to your clit.

He fell forward, your face hitting the counter top. "Be good princess, let me fill you up. I know you want it, slut,"

Whines and moans accompanied the sound of wet skin hitting wet skin, your thighs and ass cheeks coated in your own cum.

Soon Steve's thrusts got sloppy, and he started rubbing you harder, trying to get you to cum before he did. "Steve, RED, NO, PLEASE!" You begged, right before your blinding orgasm overtook, wrenching a blood curdling scream from you.

Steve's hips stuttered as he emptied himself into your cunt, letting himself ride through his orgasm, his now empty balls hitting your ass.

You sobbed as he pulled out, deep in a subspace. "Good girl," He cooed, turning you around and brushing hair from your face. "Aren't you glad I pushed you, doll?" You slowly nodded. "Yeah, that's right. I always know what you need."

😶😳this was filthy and dirty and...just wow.

I honestly didn't know i could write this kind of thing....i hope you enjoyed some dark!steve this saturday night🥵

[steverogerspocwife]

Forbidden Lessons Masterlist

Summary: Your professor gives you special lessons. (Loki)

Status: In Progress

Forbidden Lessons 

Part 2 

Part 3 

Part 4 

Part 5 

Part 6 

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Part 15

Part 16

Part 17

Part 18

Part 19

Part 20

Part 21

Part 22

Part 23

Part 24

Part 25

Part 26

Part 27

Part 28

Part 29

Part 30

Path A Ending

Part 31

Part 32

Part 33

Part 34

Path B Ending

Part 31

Part 32

Part 33

Part 34

[steverogerspocwife]

You are cute, smart, and have one man in your sights. Ransom Drysdale.

He may have met his match in you, Minx.

Coercion

Ransom thinks he has the upper hand, but he’s met his match.

Marshmallow World

Just how soft is Ransom for you? He shows it. In his way.

All These Things And More

Ransom is a dad now, but you’re neglecting Daddy.

[steverogerspocwife]

Old Habits Die Hard

Bruce Wayne/Batman

“Father this must be a mistake! Why would he want me?!” Your voice echoed throughout the office as you begged your father to not go through with things. Your father lets out an agitated sigh from his lips. “You should see this as a blessing. He is a billionaire. A very successful and handsome man.” You glare at your father angrily, a huff escapes your lips as you storm away.

You just wanted to live your life and be able to have fun. You grew up as a daddy’s girl, getting all the things you ever wanted. But you also worked for those things, morals that your mother had implemented herself before her passing. She made sure that you weren’t a stuck up spoiled girl.

Once you enter your room you are shocked to see someone sitting on your bed. A squeak escapes your lips at the acknowledgement. “W-W-What are you doing in my room?” There sitting on your bed was your soon to be finance, Bruce Wayne. He stands up from your bed. Before you had entered the room, he was examining one of your stuff animals, Bruno.

“Hello, I am here to introduce myself.” Bruce stands towering over your body. Your father was right about one thing, he sure is handsome. “Why are you in my room though? You could have just called my father to set up a day and time.” You state, moving around Bruce to sit at your mirror desk. You begin to look at yourself in the mirror, getting a glance at Bruce as well who moved behind you.

“You are correct. However, I would like to meet you one on one.” Bruce explains, placing his hands on the chair. You roll your eyes at his words. You were aware that this man only wanted the opportunities your father could offer him. You knew how these marriage go. Loveless and lonely. You swiftly turn around in your chair.

“Mr. Wayne, I am more than aware of how these marriages go. And I do not want any part. Go find some other girl to wine and dine and suck her father dry.” Your eyes burned with passion and confidence. A smile cracks onto Bruce’s face. He found you very interesting.

A hum escapes his lips and his expression became more solemn. “You are right. I should just run along.” Your eyes light up and a smile form on your lips at the thought that you actually convinced him. Little did you know that Bruce saw your expression change. He found it more than adorable.

How could he ever walk away from someone like you? Old Habits Die Hard.

[steverogerspocwife]

Cotton tails+Lloyd

That man loves seeing you with a bunny tail plug. His real life little dumb bunny.

༻𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫, 𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲, 𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐳𝐞༺

Ofc bestie he is obsessed with his bunny! Lloyd is so unhinged and underrated 😌 let's give him some soft loving and smut! I'm continuing this off my sugar daddy Au!

(warnings!! Smut!! Breeding kink!! Buttplug!! Blood!! Naked reader!! Kinda forced breeding the reader is too horny to care!! Bloody Lloyd!! Spitting!! So much dirty talk he needs to wash his mouth with soap!!)

You had been waiting all day for Lloyd to get home. Ever since he met your parents he had taken such good care of you. He spoiled you daily and made sure you came first every time. And although it was amazing, you wanted to treat Lloyd. You wanted him to get home and immediately have his cock hard.

So you were clad only in a tiny thong that was fluffy in the pain area, and you matched it with a cottontail buttplug. You wore a tiny skimpy bra that was also fluffy too and adorned on your head was a set of bunny ears. But the more you wore the outfit, the less you liked the lingerie.

You had time, so you decided to strip naked, leaving only the plug in and your bunny ears on. With a sigh you wandered into the kitchen bored of waiting and decided to get something to eat while you waited. You sat on a stool, so that your back was facing the front door. You little cotton tail visible. You texted Lloyd.

hurry home I miss you :(

will be home soon bunny, don't you worry your pretty little head.

You groaned and watched YouTube videos to pass time, eventually you got so stuck into watching videos that you didn't even hear the front door open or the sound of shoes being taken off.

Lloyd could've groaned at the sight before him. Your little cotton tail sticking out of your ass, your bunny ears, sat naked. Fuck he was so hard. "What a good little bunny I have!" You jumped, and quickly turned your phone off and turned around a dopey smile on your face.

You took in his appearance. He looked like a mad man and it made your pussy drool. Blood splattered across his white shirt and his face. You hopped off your stool and ran to him. You jumped onto him. Wrapping your legs around his waist. He immediately put his large paws under your ass groping it and groaning. You peppered his face in kisses until your pressed your lips together.

He immediately began walking to your bedroom all while locking your tongues together and exploring your mouth. You felt Lloyd stop walking and you pulled away staring at him dazed. He dropped you, shocking you out of you dumb state. You landed on soft silk sheets and pushed back until your head was on the pillows watching dreamily as Lloyd undressed.

He presented his glorious body to you with a smirk. He walked up to you and took two pillows next to you and stuffed them under your hips. "If you're gonna be my bunny, then I'm gonna have to fuckin' breed you like one." He looked down at your body and 2 of his fingers gathered your slick and he took it into his mouth and moaned. "Your pussy is so ready for daddy to cum in it. For daddy to split it open with his big cock."

He got on top of you peppering you body with kisses all while dragging his tip up and down your folds before he slowly pushed in. All the while he took a nipple into his mouth, sucking while groaning at how tight your cunt was. When he was sunk all the way in, he bit your nipple and pulled away. "Gonna fuckin' breed you. Gonna make you round with my child. No. Our child." You moaned at he began rocking his hips while speaking his promises to your dumb form.

He kept thrusting while littering hickey's everywhere on you. He stared down at you making eye contact. "This is my fucking tight cunt. I'm gonna fuckin' fill it and you're not gonna whine once." You tightened and he groaned, you were about to moan when he encase his mouth over yours and swallowed your moan. He pulled away, a strong of spit connecting you both and he smoothered it all over your face. A strand of his hair had come undone as he was pounding you making him look like a God.

A merciful God as he touched your clit and frantically rubbed while licking your jawline. He spat on your cheek and let out a gutteral groan at you, splayed underneath him. Covered in his spit, taking his fat cock so well. "Open your mouth bunny. Now." You mouth fell open, obeying his command and he spat in your mouth. "Close your mouth and swallow." You did as he ordered, consuming the essence of Lloyd.

"Fuck you're so close bunny. The second you cum on this cock, daddy's cumming in you. Marking this pussy as mine. Gonna ruin all other men for you bunny. You're mine. Forever." You whined and tucked your head into the crook of his neck and bit trying to silence your babbles and cries. You were so close. "You're gonna make me a real daddy. You're gonna be mine forever."

With a gasp you unlatched your teeth from his neck and curled your toes and scratched his back. Cumming with a loud scream of his name. He soon followed, his shallow thrusts getting more frantic and desperate until he sunk and the way down. Your hips rubbing eachothers, your mark on his neck becoming visible to your eyesight seeing the blood leaking from where your teeth bit into him.

With a gutteral groan of your name that sounded so heavenly, he came inside you. Never once pulling out. Instead he settled on top of you and reached under you and gently pulled your plug out. You came around his cock again at the release of the plug. He wrapped his arms tight around your waist and fell asleep on your tips that were covered in his drool. His cock still inside you filling you with his spunk. "Gonna keep fucking you until you're pregnant. Gonna need to put a pretty rock on that finger too." You were too dazed out to even hear his words as always. You were just glad he liked you being his bunny.

[steverogerspocwife]

Day 3: Double Penetration - Steve/Bucky

Kinktober Day 3: Double Pentration -  Steve/Bucky x f!reader

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, hatefucking, threesome, nicknames, size difference, choking, lots of swearing, discussion of masturbation, oral (m and f receiving), multiple orgasms, piv sex, anal sex, anal fingering, cum swallowing no use of y/n

my main masterlist 📚 // kinktober masterlist😈 // AO3 Link

Keep reading

[steverogerspocwife]

Granted | part II

Pairing: dark! ceo! Stever Rogers x Reader

Summary: You asked for a divorce but will Steve let you go?

Word count: 3.3k

Warning: 18 + Angst, dark!steve, controlling and possessive behavior, implied smut, mentions of cheating

~~ Part 1

“I want a divorce”

There was a pregnant silence that follows after the uttered words. You even contemplated on repeating yourself when Steve puts his cutlery down, clenches his jaws and replied with a stern,

“No.”

His voice holds a sense of finality and an ‘I don’t care what you say next’ tone, before continuing his dinner. You sit there confused. “What do you mean ‘no’? You won’t talk to me, you won’t tell me anything and you have the audacity to say ‘no’?” You’re honestly surprised with how gentle your voice sounds right now because you are burning inside.

“I said what I said. Sit down, y/n” you could tell he’s getting impatient which is kind of odd since you’ve always known him to be pretty relaxed but the again, things hasn’t been the best these days with how your marriage is falling apart so it’s not too shocking. “We just started getting better… why can’t you just wait for me?”

You scoff, “wait for you? I waited for two years! You know, maybe you started way too late. Maybe this is your starting line but it definitely is where my line ends. You can start your line with someone else. I am leaving and you better not come and try to find me, Steve, because I will call the cops on you.” Suddenly, your stomach starts to feel a burning sensation and you wince. This can’t possibly be happening right now.

“Hey, let’s act like adults and talk, okay? I am not letting you step a foot out of this house. You will never leave me because you made a vow that day. A vow to be my wife— you’re bound to me.” Stave declares as he slowly backs you up against the kitchen counter, hands on either sides of you and his body getting so close to yours that you can feel his heartbeat.

Your traitorous body couldn’t help but feel hot. You have never been this close to each other, other than the occasional sessions in the privacy of your shared bedroom. ‘Not the time, dumbass.’ You tell yourself before refocusing on what you wanted to say. “You’re ridiculous, I think we should take some time apart. This isn’t healthy.”

Steve didn’t let you go. If anything, he started to snake his right hand down your waist while his left hand holds on towards the counter for support.

You had never thought of this before but it seems like Steve has taken notes on how your body reacts towards his touches. He knows that you lose every time so he’s getting you close in hopes of you changing your mind.

“Please, Steve. Let’s take a break, okay?”

Steve suddenly kisses you with full force. He nips and sucks at your lips, his tongue tasting every crevice of your mouth. He kisses you as if it was the last he’ll ever kiss. Which you have a feeling isn’t true.

When his kisses finally slows down, you start to pull away. You don’t know what came over you when you kissed his cheek before bolting out of the door. It feels like being a teenager all over again— being giddy about kissing a guy’s cheek.

Steve didn’t stop you as you pack your things and leave to your parents’ house. If you need space then fine, but you are not leaving him, ever. He’ll do whatever it takes to keep you.

The door opens and your mom greets you. You dread telling your parents what happened. You hate disappointing them as they have always supported you in whatever you choose to do.

However, your mom- being the angel that she is- knew what’s going on with a single look at your tired face. You cheeks flushed, with dried tears cascading down.

“Oh honey… come in. Did you get in a fight with Steve?” Your mom welcomes you as you hug her tight. You also realized that your dad isn’t home, a good sign as he would go batshit crazy if he saw you crying and knocking at his door at night. He’s always been protective of you and if he knows the reason for your tears, he would no doubt blame himself for letting you marry Steve.

“Yeah… just a little fight” you confirm, trying to conjure a small smile to your face. Your mom know it isn’t true but she doesn’t want to ask of you what you don’t wish to tell.

You sat down that night, explaining everything and your mom were shocked. “Do you love him, cherie?” Your mom asks you. “Of course I love him, mom. I know he loves me too but it seems like…. It seems like I come last in his life.” You try your best not to cry as you talk about your feelings.

”Oh no I am so sorry, y/n. I never thought he’d do that to you. He’s always been a good man in, well, everyone’s eyes so when he asked to be arranged to you I just—“

“Wait what? He asked to be arranged to me?” Okay now things are just not adding up. He asks for you and then chooses to neglect you? What goes on inside his brain?! ”Oh… hasn’t he told you? I mean, two years of marriage I thought he would’ve told you by now. I don’t know how he came to know about you since you guys don’t hang out in the same or similar circles of friends but he was so sure about it. He first came alone to introduce himself and make clear what his intentions are. Then, he brought his parents the night we had dinner with his family to finalize the engagement.”

To say you were shocked is an understatement. He acted so cold towards you and it turns out that he was the one who asked to marry you?

You start thinking about how weird it was to suddenly be arranged to him. Sure, your parents have money and it was normal for rich parents to marry their kid to another rich kid. But your wealth came from your father’s hard work. It’s not… passed down.

Steve’s family, however, is crazy rich. And it’s only logical that they are since they own the country’s most profitable oil refinery companies. So steve is extremely smart and packed with green papers in his wallet.

Yeah, his dad and yours know each other but it’s definitely not a close enough relationship to marry their children off to each other.

You lay yourself down on your childhood bedroom as you think about every single moment in your life since your marriage, trying to find other clues about the unknown things Steve has done. Few while later, your stomach starts to burn, only this time, it’s so much worse.

You hate this. It always happens when you get a little but too stressed or when your eating schedule goes awry - your stomach ulcer. You forgot just how bad things are when it happens.

You take some medicine that you have fortunately packed in your purse before quickly laying back down, hoping for the pain to go away.

An hour passed and the stomach ache hurts worse than it did before. You curse at your younger self for having such a bad eating diet and getting ulcer so many times that your usual medications don’t even work anymore.

“Mama!” You yell out, trying to strain the sound of pain in your voice. “Yes honey, what’s wrong? Oh no, is it your ulcer?” Your mom hovers over you, her face wrinkled in a worried look. All you can do is nod in response.

“I-I’ve tried my meds, mama. It doesn’t work, it’s been an hour.” You slowly explain, clutching at your shirt as if it would help with the pain.

“Oh honey, come on, I’ll help you up. We can go to the nearest hospital.” And with that, you find yourself in a hospital room. The doctor has given you a stronger dose of medication to help relieve the pain.

You were just about to sleep when you hear the door burst open. ”Steve? What are you doing here?” You ask, your voice weak from exhaustion. Steve frowns at the tone of your voice, ”my wife just got admitted to the hospital and you think I wouldn’t know? Why didn’t you tell me first chance you get?”

“Steve, I did just tell you I need space like— a few hours ago.”

“Yes but this is different. I’m not gonna stay away when you’re sick, y/n. Despite what you believe, I do care for you and I have never left you alone when you were sick.” Steve is silent after that and you have nothing else to say so you turn your back on him, choosing to face the other side.

Your mom had stayed with you but have currently gone back home to pack clothes and food. Later that night, you text her that it was okay for her to just stay home as Steve had come over and you were going to have a talk with him.

You hadn’t realized when you gave in to sleep but the next morning you woke up in a different hospital room with someone holding on to you by your waist, your head on top of their arm.

You laid there, looking at him. That someone being none other than Steve. His long lashes, his pink lips, and his growing stubble. He looks perfect. You wish things have always been this way.

“I asked for a more private room for us. Are you feeling better?” He asks with his eyes still closed. You nod, ”it still burns a little but I’m okay.”

“I’m sorry for doing this to you… will you let me explain once you’re better?” You look into his solemn eyes. They look sad and worried and this nurturing side of you hates to see that. Even if he did that to himself. You give him a little nod before he pulls you closer to his embrace and kisses the tip of your nose. You hate that you’re loving this but you’ll pretend like you don’t have the energy to say anything.

You were discharged that evening and was given some medication. “I’d say don’t stress or worry too much and try to eat more than three meals a day but have them in smaller portions. No oily foods, nothing too spicy, lay off any other types of beverages other than water… and she’ll be good. Also, she should take the medicine until she’s completely sure that the pain is gone” was what the doctor discussed with your husband before he gives a quick thank you to the doctor and then saw him out the door.

“I think we need a housekeeper at home to cook proper meals at least three times a day.” Steve casually expresses. “But I can cook…?”

“Yeah, but I know how little water you drink. I also know that you eat anything and everything spicy any time you can. So this is what we are going to do from now on: we’ll have a cook and she’ll report to me about what you eat.”

“How do you know that?” Your face red from embarrassment as your husband had just caught you red handed. “My lovely girl, I know everything.” Was what he says as he grabs your overnight bag and then puts his free hand on the small of your waist to guide you out. ‘I’ll just pretend like that’s not creepy’

By the time you reached home, it was dinner time and Steve is biting your ears off about your choice of food.

“Sweetheart, it’ll just make you ulcer worse. Come on, I’ll make you some rice and teriyaki chicken.” He insists, snatching the pack of ramen away from your grasp. “Nooo I want this ramen, please!” You try to reach the pack of ramen that Steve holds above his head.

“y/n, don’t be stubborn. You just got discharged.” He looks exasperated and eventually, you decide to give in, “fine.” You’ve always been rebellious when it comes to food and your ulcer. After having the worst stomach pain of your life, you’d just drink cold beverages and eat spicy and oily foods without care. It sometimes may look like you don’t care about your health but you just really can’t resist the temptation of food.

You huff before excusing yourself to go behind Steve and towards the fridge to grab some cold orange juice. Just as you were about to take it out, Steve pulls you back by your waist.

“Na ah. Nope. I’ve prepared water for you.” He says as he leads you towards the dining table. “Steve, thats so boring. At least give me cold water.” Your complaints go unheard as Steve continues to cook and prepare dinner.

“I don’t think I’m hungry anymore… I think I’m gonna go sleep.” You sheepishly say, not in the mood to eat anything anymore. “No. Eat.” That tone is back. That commanding tone. Honestly scares you to think about him being mad so you pick the safest option: just eat it.

Once you were done, Steve held your hand as if to prevent you from leaving. “Can we talk now?” You nod your head in agreement.

“I’m sorry for not being a good husband to you, I’m sorry. What I did was not okay. I often left you alone at home and I took your affections for granted. I don’t want you to leave me, Love. I need you to stay with me. The truth is, I’m not really used to being affectionate after uh… after my ex.”

“The one who was at the café?”

“Yes but I promise, I promise that wasn’t anything. There’s nothing between us. She’s just back in town and I wanted to catch up with her a little before I have dinner with my associates. A-and I know it doesn’t justify anything because I should’ve told you. Your’e my wife and I’m meeting another woman who had been in a relationship with me, I shouldve told you. I’m sorry for that.” You nod in acceptance. You appreciate that he acknowledges where he went wrong and that he apologized properly for it. But of course, it doesn’t make everything okay.

“I don’t know what to say to that that, Steve… if you really do have something going on with her, you have to tell me. We can end this once and for all. You never have to see me again- we can—“ you were suddenly interrupted with a yell.

“No!” Steve sighs loudly before quickly recovering from his frustration, “that’s not what I want nor is it what I need. I need you, y/n. Every night I get home to you and it warms my heart to know that you’re still waiting for me. It makes me melt when you pack me lunch and make breakfast a-and just everything that you do, I love it. I don’t show my affections but I do notice things about you. How you sometimes fall asleep on the couch whilst reading your books, when you wear fuzzy socks with weird patterns, or when you have a whole concert in the kitchen as you cook.”

You’re kind of surprised by the little facts he just spat out. You didn’t realize that when you do those things, there’s a slight chance Steve might be looking and taking notes.

Seeing as you are silent with no signs of saying anything, Steve continues to explain himself. “When I first got into this marriage, I wasn’t ready.”

“That’s bullshit, Steve. Mama told me you asked to be arranged to me.” You shake your head in disbelief. ”Yes and- and I’m sorry I rushed everything. This whole time I just- I just feel like I’ve got you and I have nothing else to worry about.”

“What does that mean?”

“I first saw you at the Campbell’s event. You intrigued me and I couldn’t help it. I found out about you when my mother noticed I was staring and it wasn’t hard to find you and really, and I just- I was selfish. I was intrigued by you and sooner than I realized, I’m head over heels for you. But you were everyone’s center of attention and I didn’t… like that. One thing led to another and I asked my parents to arrange me to you and you agreed.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry I took you for granted. It’s not that I don’t want my colleagues to know you, it’s just that I don’t always associate myself with good people and I don’t want them to know about you. After marrying you, it felt like I have you and no one will take you away from me. So I said, I’ll take care of my business and then I’ll finally be able to comfortably settle down with you. Now, it’s not even some guy stealing you away from me, its just you being repulsed by me.”

By now tears are streaming down your cheeks and you were lightly sobbing. You feel the familiar burn in your stomach again and you internally curse.

You could tell he’s honest and is genuinely sorry for his mistakes but putting you second to his work? That’s definitely a line crossed beyond acceptable. “How could you… I am not someone you ‘get’ and leave once you marry, Steve. Clearly me accepting this was a mistake. If you thats your mindset then you are not ready for marriage— at least not with me. Tell me, why don’t you wear you ring?”

Steve gives you no answer. You try to wipe the tears that are continuously falling down, wetting your shirt. “You know… the whole reason why I agreed to this marriage was because everyone praises you for being a good man. I guess it’s on me for falling for what people say ‘cause clearly you can’t even respect me enough to wear our fucking wedding ring. You must think that I’m so naive, I can’t believe you’d do this to me.”

You were about to take your ring off of your finger to hand to him but Steve’s great reflexes caught you before you could even touch it. Steve restricts your movements by hugging you tight.

He whispers sorries and I love yous until eventually you feel the familiar burn in your stomach coming back again making you go limp.

Steve takes that to his advantage to pick you up in his arms and set you down on the sofa. Not long after, you sit yourself up a little bit to get your meds from your purse only to see that Steve has gotten access to it first.

“Steve, what are you doing?” You weakly ask, trying to reach for the medication that he has confiscated. Steve gives you a smirk. The kind that makes chills run down your whole body. “You’ll forgive me if I give you your medicine, right? You’ll forgive me and we’ll start over. I’ll be better, I promise.”

You give him a baffled look. “Steve, those are my pills. How can you take advantage of me right now? Please, give it back, it hurts.”

“Not until you promise to let us start over, baby.”

“Steve, please!” You plead. Things are getting scarier by the second. Steve’s right hand holds your meds, hanging it in the air as if to taunt you. His left hand on your thigh, gripping you hard to add the pressure so you’d agree. “Say it for me, love, ‘I forgive you steve, we can start over’”

“Okay! Please just—“

“No, baby. I want the words.”

“I forgive you, we can start over.” You finally give in. Steve pecks your lips and smirks. He then took one of your pills out and puts it in your mouth before reaching towards the glass of water that was already on the coffee table.

“I’ll keep these, you know— to make sure that you remember to drink your medicine.” Steve gives you a wink before retreating to your shared room.

What the fuck?

++ Hi hii you guys! so I don't actually have a taglist and I'm not sure if I will have one but I feel bad if I don't tag at last some of you T~T thank you so much for the support on part one <3 I'm sorry I couldn't tag everyone but I hope you enjoyed this part too!!

@existenciosa @imstillgarbage @mooievis @jpmswife @isnt-itstrange @sergeantbarnes1917

[steverogerspocwife]

Granted | part I

Pairing: dark!ceo!Steve Rogers x fem!reader

Word Count: 2k

Summary: You and Steve has been married for 2 years. He’s cold towards you and at first you were okay with it, shrugging it off as ‘maybe it just takes time’. But now things have gone too far and you are ready to end things.

Warning: 18+ Angst, dark!steve, controlling and possessive behavior, implied smut, mentions of cheating

“Good morning! I made waffles today, do you want any for work?” You ask, sensing Steve’s presence without even turning your body around.

“Yeah, thanks.” He replies curtly. It sends your heart in a bit of a turmoil whenever he’s around you. Sometimes it’s a good turmoil- as in him being so dreamy your heart just beats so fast it feels like you’re about to faint. But most of the time, it’s turmoil in its every intended meaning.

You understand why he acts cold to you. Your parents had arranged your marriage and you, knowing Steve’s good reputation, happily agreed. You never thought about how your marriage would turn so lonely and cold. You never thought about how he might not even like you.

Everyday with him has gotten you second guessing your choices. Maybe if you had courted before going straight to the wedding, he would’ve liked you better. Or maybe it would be better to just not agree in first place. You feel like you’re tying him down to you.

You turn back to hand him over his packed lunch. “Are you working late again?” You hesitate to ask. You didn’t want him to feel like you’re nagging at him. “No, but I do have dinner with a few of my associates so I’ll be back home late.”

“Ah… okay then, should I still save some dinner for you or…?” He ponders for a while before shaking his head. He then got up and grabs his plate, heading towards the sink and washing the dirty dishes. “Steve, I can do that. You have work. Here, you can go get ready.” You say before taking the plates and the sponge out of his hands. He lets you and starts getting ready.

Just as you finished washing the dishes, he come over to kiss you on your forehead before saying a quick goodbye and walking out the door. You run towards the window to watch his car leave.

Sometimes, Steve’s little acts of romance gets you wondering about things. Maybe you’re overreacting? Maybe Steve does love you, he’s just not one to show that through words. After all, you have been married for two years. Is that that enough time for him to at least like you?

—————

“Hey, babe! Wanna get dinner? I really miss you.” Anna, your best friend, asks. You just realized how long it has been since you last spent time with her. You wanted to reject her since you know Steve doesn’t like it when you go out alone at night but you’ve been lonely these days as Steve works till late at night- and even if he is there, it’s not like you two talk. So you agree.

You text Steve that you were going out with a friend and an hour later, you find yourself in a fancy restaurant waiting for Anna. “Oh my God! I’ve missed you so much. I’m so sorry I haven’t reached out sooner. Work has been really crazy and I’m finally taking a leave. How’ve you been?” Anna is like your soulmate. You don’t meet up all the time or talk all the time but you’re both always there for each other.

“I’m doing okay… I’m glad you took some time off. I’ve literally never seen you out of work since the day we graduated.” You reciprocate her warm hug before practically having to peel yourself out of her hug.

“I know, right? Adulting is kinda hard and oh my God, I have news! Let’s go in, it’s pretty cold out here.” For the rest of the night, you had a great time. She talked about her getting promoted at work and thus finally having a more relaxed work schedule, you talked about your new reading hobby, and both of you were just there to catch up. You can’t help but miss it- days when you weren’t constantly thinking about whether or not your husband likes you.

“Babe… um is- is that Steve?” Anna asks, discreetly pointing towards someone behind you. Your face morphs into a frown before turning around. You looked and looked but you don’t seem to find Steve. Just when you’re about to ask what Anna meant, you spot him. You spot him looking so handsome, smiling and laughing. Something you’ve only seen every so often during the time you’ve known him. That wasn’t important though, what’s important is the fact that he’s sitting with a beautiful lady in a beautiful red dress.

Your body was frozen as you watch the way they exchange. He was very close to her, very… touchy. He smiles at her and looks at her with undivided attention.

All this time you wondered why he never told anyone about his married status, why he never introduced you to his friends or colleagues, why he always seemed to avoid meeting your friends and colleagues , and most importantly, why he doesn’t wear his ring outside of your house.

Maybe it’s your fault too for never asking for clarity but really, why do you have to ask in the first place? “Honey, I’m really sorry…” Anna looks at you concerned. She then offered to let you stay over at her house and you agreed.

So far in your marriage, you do sleep together and occasionally have intimate nights but nothing much ever happens after and seeing just how bad the night has turned out for you, you don’t feel like seeing him right now.

—————

The next day, you wake up to at 2 pm to see hundreds of texts and too many missed calls.

‘Hey it’s getting late, can I expect you home soon?’

‘y/n can you please pick your phone up?’

‘Baby, pick your phone up.’

‘Where are you? Are you in trouble?’

‘Please answer my texts and calls, I’m worried’

‘Just send me your location and I’ll pick you up’

You read a couple of them before turning your phone off. Maybe you should hear his side of things first. Handle this like an adult because no matter how angry and sad you are, you don’t believe that this is something Steve would do.

You walk out of the guest room and into Anna’s kitchen. “Hmm smells like porridge, did you make porridge?” You ask as you walk towards the stove.

Anna replies with a hum before serving you a bowl. You grab your spoon and thank her for the food. You didn’t even get a second bite before you hear a car parking outside. Both your face and Anna’s contort in confusion before looking out the window to see a black Land Cruiser.

“Uh… I have never told him any of my friends’ addresses so how does he know your address and how the fuck does he know where I am?” You freak out, running towards the door to make sure it’s locked. “Bitch that’s your husband, how would I know?” Anna is just as freaked as you are.

It doesn’t take long before you hear the bell ringing. Once… twice… “y/n I know you’re ini here. Please, come out!” Steve shouts from the other side. You sigh before making a move to open the door. Anna nods at you before going up to her room to give you and your husband some privacy to talk.

“Oh thank God! I thought something happened. Do you know how worried I was? Why didn’t you pick your phone up?” Steve looked genuinely relieved to see you. What surprised you though was the fact that he was hugging you like you’d disappear if he lets go.

“I- uh… my phone is dead.” You quickly come up with a lame excuse. “Don’t lie. If your phone was dead, I wouldn’t have been able to track you.”

You were appalled. “You put a tracker in my phone? When?”

“You know what I do for a living, right? It’s not that hard to get access to anything.” He says in a tone that makes it seem like it’s an obvious and normal matter. “Look, let’s go home and we’ll talk, okay?”

—————

25 minutes later you find yourself sitting in his car, tension is clear as day but none of you spoke to clear up the problem.

“Why don’t you wear your ring, Steve?” You slowly start up the conversation with your eyes already watering. People might say that you’re weak or that you’re a crybaby but you don’t give a fuck. Piles and piles of pent up anger and sadness just makes you want to break down altogether.

“That’s what this is about? Come on, it’s just a ring.” Thud… your heart hurts. You surely didn’t expect him to take what a wedding ring means so lightly. “How can you say that it’s just a ring? It’s a symbol… it’s proof of our marriage, Steve. Did two years mean nothing?”

“Oh come on! Look, I’ll wear it from now on since you so badly want me to.”

“But I don’t want you to wear it because I want you to, I want you to wear it because you want to!” By now you’re both screaming at the tope of your lungs.

“This is ridiculous. You disappear overnight without telling me just because of this? This is-”

“It’s not just this, Steve. It’s that you don’t want anyone to know about us being married, it’s that you act so cold around me, it’s that you’re my husband but it doesn’t feel like it, it’s that you make excuses every time I try to spend time with you, it’s that… it’s the fact that you had a great time with another woman when I’m at home, lonely and waiting for you to come back to me- waiting so that maybe one day you’d give me your undivided attention like you gave it to her or to maybe one day smile and laugh with me like you did with her.”

“You don’t even know why I do half of the things I did!” Steve’s hands gripped at the steering wheel.

“So just fucking tell me why!”

“Fine, you want attention? I’ll give you my attention.” And with that, Steve fucked the living daylights out of you once you were at the safety of your home. He fucked you until you couldn’t even get up from how sore you were. He didn’t even care to explain anything, and your fault was that you just melted at every touch and every caress Steve gave to you that night.

—————

A week has passed since the fight. Steve wears his ring now but it doesn’t mean anything. He still acts the way he used to before the fight and now you just feel like crap. It feels like he fucked you just to keep you silent because he knows you’d give in to his touches. It makes you feel like you’re worthless to him. Why does he even keep you as his wife? Just so he can have someone cook him breakfast and pack him lunch? You don’t understand.

You haven’t been saying anything because for once, you want him to initiate things first. Moreover, the fight you had was a serious matter so surely he’d clarify things up by now. But he didn’t.

Steve also watched you closely these days. He’d tell you, ‘don’t go out’ or ‘just stay at home’. It’s not like you have anything to do outside but how dare he tell you not to go out when he’s the one having dinner with ‘associates’. There’s also a black SUV parked outside all day until Steve is back home. You don’t want to admit this to yourself but that’s probably Steve’s security team guarding you to make sure you don’t leave your house.

“y/n, I’m home!” Steve shouts from the entrance of your home. Right, he does that now. Announces his arrival. For what? You don’t know. But it definitely does not make what he did okay.

“I got us Thai food for tonight. Let’s go eat.” He says as he sets the food down and arranges the dishes.

You both sit quietly, enjoying dinner. Every once in a while you’d look up to find him already staring at you. You prayed and prayed that he would finally clear things up but he doesn’t. Alright then, you’ll start.

“I want a divorce.”

[steverogerspocwife]

Series Masterlist: 3 Years Later

1. 3 Years Later

2. Family Time

[steverogerspocwife]

The Break In

Summary: You and your friends break into the wrong house and pay the price. Part one of "The Break In" Series

Dark! Steve Rogers x fem! Reader, I imagine an older nomad Steve

Warnings: 18+ DARK FIC READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION, non-con

Note: This took me a lot longer than I wanted to write but I do have at least 2 more parts I want to write for this. I am insanely invested in this story, let me know if you are as well.

Divider by: @firefly-graphics

“Kev how much further?” Amy whines, her steps heavy and in sync with your own. You would have mocked her lack of endurance if you hadn’t been out of breath yourself.

It seemed the daily runs were paying off for Kevin as he led the group already past the slope of the hill and out of view. Malik relays the message of "just a little more" and you roll your eyes at the lack of huff and puff in his voice and curse the sloped ground as you trip for the third time. “Alright, that’s it! You’re not allowed to pick houses anymore!” Amy yells ahead. 

You were never the one to complain but at this point, this “walk up a small hill” Kevin had sold to you guys had turned into a full-on hike and you hated being duped, almost as much as you hated being sweaty. “Seriously Kevin, this house better be golden!” You grumbled, “And I mean it, I want new shoes and at least 2 iPads, ones with the pencil thing.” 

“If she gets the iPads then there better be laptops for me.” Amy adds  

The house screamed golden. One of those rare almost-too-perfect-to-be-true types of houses that the group scored maybe once every 2 years. Big, but not too big that it would take hours to sift through. Plus, it was reclusive; you couldn’t remember the last house you had seen on the way, and contemporary meaning the owner was loaded and wanted you to know it. 

You scan the area for security cameras but come up empty. Even past the house, there seemed to be nothing but open fields of trees and greens. It's puzzling and your concern grows when Kevin plainly opens the door. “Hey, no fair you already went in? That’s rule number... whatever; don’t break in without anyone else.” Amy only remembers the rules when she’s the one not breaking them. 

“Rule 5.” Malik's a stickler for the rules.

“I didn’t break in.” There’s a pause, only broken by Amy who starts laughing, repeating no fucking way, no fucking way. Kevin bows comically and swipes his hands through the air gesturing into the house, “Right this way ladies and Malik.” 

Amy all but jumps through the door with Malik following quickly behind her. You almost expect alarms to start ringing when they step over the entrance but there’s nothing but Amy’s squeals. Kevin's already working on disarming your worry when you turn to look at him.

"Relax, it's all good."

You’re shaking your head, “We shouldn’t. Who leaves their house unlocked like this? And no security?” It just feels off, “We shouldn’t risk it.” 

Kevin’s shoulders drop and he takes your hands in his, it's his way of trying to soothe you. “All we ever do is take risks. It’s probably a vacation house for some rich asshole who was busy on a business call and forgot to lock the door when he left. You know we'll be in and out before anyone even remotely gets close to this place,” He tugs on your hands, "quick before Amy and Malik take all the good stuff." 

The worry settles into a pit in your stomach, “You haven’t seen anyone come by?” Kevin gives a curt no. You push the worry down and decide to be a team player. 

There is a painting hanging in the living room that catches your interest, it depicts a woman sitting alone staring at a wineglass. She seems mad but that's not the whole story. She's sat hugging herself with one hand and her fingers are eerily too long, desperate to hold more of herself. She is lonely and bitter at the glass for reflecting its emptiness back at her. 

“Well, she’s kinda ugly.”

Amy gives the shelf next to you a quick scan but you've already looked at it and know there's nothing valuable. It's all just generic books, a couple of knickknacks, and some memorabilia. She heads to the couch and lands with a soft plop, “This place is a bust. His bedroom is equally as depressing.” 

"What, nothing good in the closet?" Amy always made a beeline to closets, clothes were easy to pack up and rich people usually had all the luxury brands that sold for a pretty penny. Malik would be searching for a safe hidden under the bed or in the walls and Kevin always liked snatching jewelry and drugs.

“Nothing and I mean nothing in his closet is a brand name. He dresses like one of those poor-looking rich people in tech.” She kicks her feet out and yells out “Kevin you better be coming down to rub my feet after all that walking for nothing!"

The house was expensive and it looked all grand from the outside but whoever lived here was not materialistic at all, you hadn't found much of worth to take. Not much but...

You rummage through the open pocket of your bag and pull out a small brown leather box. Seeing Amy upset was like seeing a kicked puppy so with little hesitation you open the box and present the ring to her. She immediately sparks up, pulling out the gold-plated diamond ring.

“It's too small for me.”

She kisses you on your cheek and slides the ring on. 

His bedroom is not depressing. Yeah, it's a bit plain but it's also quiet and comforting. You’re lying in his bed, your hair wrapped up in your jacket like always. This was your favorite part, to lie on the soft mattresses and allow yourself to imagine what sweet, got-nothing-to-worry-about type of sleep felt like. But you could never fall asleep, only sort of drift in the in-between.

The four of you had banded together in your first and last year of college; Malik and you were in the same group for scholarship kids and had snuck away during a tour of the campus where the tour guide really put the emphasis on just "how lucky you were all to be here". Kevin, you met in an econ class when you had to wake him up to take the attendance sheet, and sweet little Amy shared a dorm floor with you and you let her bunk with you after her roommate locked her out for being too chatty and yours hadn't shown up yet.

The first house you robbed was Kevin's. No one ever believed Kevin when he said his parents were loaded--he dressed like a bum and was always mooching off someone's plate--but during the ending weeks of summer break he invited everyone back to his place; it was the first mansion you've ever been in. Kevin's family wasn't just rich they were ridiculously wealthy like old money, probably tied to war crimes kind of rich.

Then Kevin revealed why he had brought you all over. He wasn't going to return to school because his daddy cut him off for wanting to change his major so in retaliation, Kevin was going to rob them blind, and like the good friend he was, he decided we could take anything we could carry out the house. Amy turned out to be really good at upselling, Malik was in love with the thrill and you knew you were going to burn out trying to keep up with the good grades and the stealing was just so easy.

The rest in the in-between doesn't last long as you're pulled out of it by a loud thud from downstairs. You're up on your feet at another thud but this time it's followed by the smash of glass and a scream.

Your heart beats in your ears and it's hard to hear anything else, the deafening silence brings the worry bubbling out of your stomach and almost weights you down to the ground. You should move, you really should but your mind is trying to rationalize the noises, "probably just pranking me." It all happened too fast, there wasn't a real struggle. There couldn't have been.

The door swings open just as you were about to grab the doorknob, the seal breaks, and the screams are back until they're cut off with a sickening crunch. Malik grabs you by the shoulders, his mouth is moving but you can't focus on anything but the kitchen knife stuck in his shoulder. Blood is soaking his shirt,

God, his blood

Malik shakes you and you realize how lightheaded you've gotten,

"What,"

"Malik, you're bleeding."

"Where's Amy? Kevin?"

Malik is quick with his movements, opening the bedroom window, pushing you towards it, helping you up until you're sitting on the window stool looking back at him.

"What happened, Malik?"

"They're dead."

The bedroom door opens right as Malik pushes you out the window. The fall isn't bad, nothing feels broken but you land on your back and get the wind knocked out of you. You can still see Malik peering down at you yelling to go, to run.

But you can't, you're just lying there, trying to convince yourself that you're not going to die just like kids do when they fall like this. But this time death is seeming like a very possible end.

You let out sallow grunts as you try to breathe properly, and the spasming turns into crawling. You don't hear Malik anymore but you're too scared to turn around. You don't get very far before a hand is tangled in your hair, the pull is harsh and has your whole body turning around. The sun blinds your eyes, and you can only make out the figure of a man before your face meets the blunt end of his axe.

Your eyes slowly open to unveil a clear night sky, the rhythmic sound of metal meeting dirt and gentle plops of dirt falling fill your ears. The world spins as you slowly regain your senses.

You're laying on the cool grass and your skin goosebumps in the cold night air. The left side of your forehead is swollen to the touch and when you pull back your hand there are flakes of dried blood on your fingers. You don't know what to do, your head's pounding, and it's frustratingly difficult to move. Crawling didn't help you last time so you decide to ignore the pain pulsing through your body and push yourself up and run; the backyard is pretty empty besides a tall apple tree and it isn't fenced off so you can run around to the front and down the hill.

But when you manage to stand you're quickly bought back down to your knees at the gruesome sight before you. Bloody bodies clumped together, a leg cracked hanging together by what you can only assume as muscles instead of bone, blood dripping down hanging limbs, on top spread open like a Christmas tree topper is Malik's body, and stuck upright in the dirt staring up at you is his decapitated head.

You reach out to close Malik's eyes, it's the least and only thing you can do, but a grip on your ankle pulls you away. You kick out in retaliation but the man doesn't budge, he lets go only to grab a fistful of your hair. The pain in your head doubles and you're screaming as he pulls you up to your feet.

He towers over you, his sweat-drenched shirt sticks to his chest, and parts of his blond hair fall over his face but you can still make out his aggravated scowl. His build, the grip he has on you, and the remains of your friends are all evidence of his deadly strength but as he stares you down, you can't help but be reminded of the painting that hangs in his living room.

He sets you down like a child and you stumble trying to find your balance.

He kicks forward a shovel "Dig."

Your eyes glance from the shove to the man to the remains of your friends and back down to the one hole he's already dug.

He doesn't take well to your hesitation and he doesn't really seem like a man you say no to so before he takes another step towards you, you grab the shovel. The handle's still warm from his touch. Once you have it in a position that feels comfortable you look up at him for some kind of confirmation. He gives a single nod and you start to dig a grave for your friends.

Your fingers are cramping, almost pulsating from the non-stop friction from the shovel. All of your bones are begging for you to just lay down right there but you have another grave to dig, you consider the length you'll need to dig and shuffle a bit away from the first one you've dug but just as you're about to push in the shovel with your foot, he rips it out of your hands and throws it to the side.

He leaves you in confusion and makes his way over to the bodies, lugging Malik over his left shoulder, Kevin on his right, and he drags Amy by the arm, with his hands full he resorts to kicking Malik's head straight into the grave he's dug. You flinched at the sounds of his head tumbling around.

"There are only 2 graves." Your obvious clarification goes ignored.

He carries their bodies like sacks of potatoes and throws them into the grave the same way you'd throw trash down a garbage shoot.

With his hands empty, he makes his way over to you and you want to blame your lack of movement on how exhausted your legs are but you can't help but feel caged as he walks over to you. He grabs you by the upper arm and drags you over to the edge of the grave you've dug. "This one," his grainy tickles your ears with dread, "this one is yours."

A shove sends you falling in, the dust from your fall has you coughing, and more fills the air as he lands in front of you.

Tears form in your eyes at the implication as you imagine your body decaying in the ground, no one would know, no one would grieve you. The family you once had; you had disappointed, and you can't help but feel the same about the friends you let be obliterated by the man standing in front of you.

The grave you dug is uneven and narrow and he's close enough for you to feel the heat radiating off of him. When he takes a step forward you hear yourself plea.

"Please,"

It's easy to grovel when you're already on your knees, "please don't... Please I don't want to die."

It's the truth, the threat of death shakes you to your core, and kneeling down in a grave that you've dug, apparently for yourself, has fear creeping in from all angles. There hadn't been a clear moment to think ever since Malik pushed you out that window. But here caged in between a wall and a murderer the only thing you could think of was not dying.

Your plea surprises him, you can see the hesitation in his eyes as he takes a moment to look over you, and you hope it will save you. His hand comes down to wipe the tears away from your eyes, a little too late as some are already streaking down your cheeks.

His touch is soft and you find yourself leaning in as his hand lingers under your face. "Please, you don't have to kill me."

He shakes his head, "I won't." His expression doesn't soften like his hand but you find yourself trusting him, with blind hope, it's all you have at this point.

But it's snuffed out when he twists your body around leaving you facing a wall of dirt.

"You want to stay alive?" He taunts and you feel the need to nod.

Yes, you want to stay alive.

His weight behind you pushes you forward and your hands aren't fast enough to save you from a face full of dirt. He uses this advantage to kick your feet apart as if you weren't weak enough to be malleable to begin with. He wraps one arm around your waist and the other starts to tug at your pants.

His movements are too quick for you to keep up with but when you realize your fate you fidget in his arm, struggling with no real result. "Wait... What..." But he ignores you. You feel your pants tear and drop around your feet. You would have been humiliated if fear hadn't been the main emotion encapsulating you.

"You want to live right?" His gruff voice has you shuttering in tears but still, you nod, "Well, this is how you live."

A whimper of a plea escapes your throat and he pushes you into the wall once more, and with dirt blocking your eyes and underneath your fingernails, you stay willing, his free hand crawls up your body. Groping your breasts and squeezing the tender skin of your waist, his chest rumbles in pleasure. "I had forgotten how soft-" His words die as he leans into the crook of your neck, taking a deep breath at first then placing a kiss, and finally a small bite of the skin by your shoulder blade.

"I had forgotten how soft flesh felt, The hand by your waist dips into your folds, "so soft." you hold in a sob. His fingers part you and play around a bit before he digs into you, harder than the words that leave his mouth. Your new tears are absorbed by the dirt in front of you, "Don't... Don't do this please."

In response, he shoves a finger in you and then another. Shamefully you shift your legs to tolerate his intrusion. He curls his fingers in you, his other hand finding its place at your clit in a way to make up for the pain and he keeps going until you've become slick. You hear the sound of his pants unbuckling and you prepare the next plea of yours but as if he expected it, he pulls your head back by your hair and shoves your face forward, deep enough to have you inhaling dirt and at the same time he finally buries his dick into you.

While you're crying out, inhaling dirt, and using your hands to push back his thighs but he doesn't mind it as he pumps into you. The roll of his hips start to become familiar, his grunts start to fall into a rhythm and your tears subside. You start to choke on the moist dirt as you scratch at his hand entangled in your hair, begging for release. He complies and you cough out the dirt but his free hands grip your shoulders and pull you back onto his cock with a force so strong you let out moans with the new air in your lungs.

As his thrusts become erratic your knees buckle as the build-up of pleasure ripples through you but it's not enough to distract you from your initial fear. You still think death is on the table when he pulls out of you, his hand comes down to catch his seed dripping out of you. He clears his throat and rubs the liquid into your back, almost as if to soothe you. You prepare yourself for a swift death now but it never comes, "You want to live, yes?"

Even after all that has happened you still fear death, so you nod and your voice cracks upon answer.

"Yes."

Part 2 coming soon

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist for part 2 by reblog or by ask

[steverogerspocwife]

Imposter

Pairing: Yandere Superman x Reader Summary: You have gained some sort of memory loss. A man with the name Clark Kent tells you that he is his husband but you starting to regain some memories.

            A groan escapes your lips as your eyes slowly flutter open. You lay your eyes on a man with black hair and piercing blue eyes, he was sitting on the edge of the bed with a tray in his hands. He was unbelievably handsome. You were quick to sit up since you were nothing more than shocked to see the man before you. “W-who are you??” You question quickly, your heart pounding against your chest. A smile appears on the man’s face as he reaches for your hand. “I’m your husband, Clark Kent. You are probably wondering what you are doing here and why you can’t remember that I am your husband. But I can explain everything… after you finish eating that is.” A plate of food was set on your lap. Your eyes went from the plate to the man named Clark before you, a wide smile on his lips as he watched you.

            After a moment, Clark gets up from the corner of the bed. “Go ahead and eat. I’ll be back with water.” You silently watched him go, once he was gone your eyes move to your plate. You didn’t know if you should believe him or not. But you didn’t feel threatened in anyway, so you just began to eat. Your face was quick to make a pleased expression. As you continued to eat in ecstasy a moan slipped through your lips. You could hear someone clearing their throat, you whip your head around to see Clark standing there. “Is everything ok?” Since your mouth was full, all you could manage to do was nod. “Our friends want to see you later today. To check up on you, see how you’re doing.”

            You didn’t know what to say because you had no idea what he means by friends. There wasn’t much you could say so you continued to eat your breakfast. Once you were done, He took your plate. You spaced out, unknown what to do. Clark comes back                                                 into the room, sitting very close to you. “Before we go to meet them, you need to know something.” Your brows furrowed at the sudden shift of atmosphere. Clark takes your hand, his thumb brushing against the top of your hand softly. “I am Superman.” You just stare at him for a moment. Clark was waiting for a reaction, searching your facial expression for anything. “Oh, You’re serious!” Your eyes widen in shock, your mouth hanged comically. Clark chuckles at your adorable facial expression. That’s when he demonstrates him floating in the air.

            “I can’t believe that I am married to not only a very handsome man. But Superman as well. You sure this isn’t a dream? And all of this is fake? If I wake up and you’re gone, I will blame you for the rest of my life.” Clark places himself onto the ground once again. Slowly closing the gap between you two. “I want to kiss you so bad. I missed you, my love.” His breath brushed against your own lips, which made you suck your lips inwards. Clark shakes his head quickly, shaking the lust in his body away for just a moment. “At last, I must refrain myself until you feel comfortable.” You nodded your head slowly even though you wouldn’t mind a kiss from this godly looking man. “We should get going. This dresser is all yours. I’ll leave so you can change.” You waited until he left and closed the door to get up. You look through the fancy clothing, nothing stuck out to you. That was until your eyes landed on a pair of jeans and a baggy hoodie. Which you assumed belonged to Clark. You felt kind of bad for just taking the hoodie, but you remembered that you guys are married, and he wouldn’t mind. Hopefully.

            Once you exited the room, Clark was sitting on the couch that faced the door. His eyes ran up and down your body, his eyes soften for a moment. He was glad you were wearing something of his. In his head it meant you belong to him. “Are you ready?” He asks you, in result you nod your head. Clark takes his hand out for you to take. “Hold on to me. We are going to Gotham where we meet our mutual friend, Bruce.” It didn’t take long for Clark and you to arrive in the Wayne’s manner. An old man in a tux had answered the door. “Ah, you both are here.” Clark leans over to whisper into your ear the name of the man in front of you guys. Learning or “re-learning” his name is Alfred. Alfred leads you both to the dining room where five males sat. It looked as though they were quietly among themselves. However, everything changes when You and Clark enter the room. Their attention all shifting to you both and they all according stand up, from the oldest man to the smallest little boy. They all seem friendly as they approached the two of you.

            “It’s nice to see you again.” Bruce states, respectfully kissing your hand in a charming manner. A small gasp escapes your lips at the gesture. You weren’t aware the handshake would turn into a kiss. You also weren’t aware of the glare Clark sends to Bruce. Bruce has caught the glance, slowly removing his lips from your hand also taking his time to let go of your hand. “Uh, Nice to see you again…?” You lead the sentence on going since you were unsure as to who this handsome man was. “Let’s sit down before we discuss this.” The sitting arrangements were in the following order: You sat in between Clark and Jason. Across the three of you was, Bruce, Damien, Timothy, and Dick. “I have completely forgot you don’t know who we are. Bruce. Bruce Wayne. But you can just call me Bruce.” You nod your head in acknowledgment. “Yeah, I am sorry. I just can’t believe I don’t remember meeting you all. And I am pretty sure I should when you all are…” Dick buts in. “Literal superheroes? Yeah, we know what you mean. And we don’t hold it against you. Has Clark told you how you lost your memory?”

            You shook your head and glance at Clark for a moment before looking back at Dick. “It was one of Clark’s enemies. They had figured out his identity and along with that, they found you. They had kidnapped me as well as erased your memory. So, when Clark had finally got your location, it was too late. You didn’t know who he was and fainted from the shock of everything.” Bruce explains. Trying to piece everything together yet nothing seems to make you remember. Everything made logical sense in all honesty, but there was something in the bottom of your stomach telling you that something was missing. “It’s kind of a shame that you lost your memory. You and Clark were trying for a baby.” Your whole world just stopped.

            Your mouth became dried; You turned your attention to Clark who was fiddling with his fingers a goofy grin on his lips. Confirming the words that escape Dick’s lips. “I-Uh I had no idea.” A dry laugh escapes your lips. “Yeah, but don’t sweat it. You didn’t know and you have just awoken from a tiny coma.” Jason states, patting your back. You slowly nod your head at his response. Your gaze moved towards Clark, who already had his eyes set on you. It seemed like he already knew what was going on in your mind.