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thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 year

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sour summer

a/n: this is a prequel to my story the murder at evergreen university. if you haven’t yet, then i highly recommend you to go read that one first.

summary: “were you really always this pretty?”

warnings: Ari Levinson x reader, smut, prequel to this story (so beware that it does contain some spoilers), childhood friends to lovers, neighbours, family friend!Ari, cop!Ari, shy!reader, virgin!reader, slight age gap (in my head reader is 18 and ari is in his mid 20's), pining, cheating, kissing, loss of virginity, corruption kink, size kink, fingering, penetrative sex, protected sex, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, squirting, manhandling

word count: 6301

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After rifling through your closet from top to bottom, you finally gave up on the wild goose chase and stormed out of your room.

“Hey mom?” you called out as you neared the kitchen, “have you seen my cardigan? The grey one with the-,” your whole body froze as you crossed the threshold and saw the unexpected figure leaning against the kitchen island, “oh my god…”

“Y/n,” your mother smile, setting down her mug of amber tea, “look who stopped by for a visit,” gesturing to not only the accustomed visage of Mrs Levinson, who had always been more of an aunt to you than a next door neighbour with how tight-knit your families were, but more specifically focusing your attention on the other much more surprising visage that instantly made the sweater hunt become a task of the past.

“Ari?” the warm sound of his name gushed out of you and spread over every inch of your form, causing goosebumps to erupt as your eyes raked across his brawny figure, “what are you doing here?” you darted to steal a hug, nearly tripping his bulky frame over in the process.

Curiously, he too seemed taken aback by your appearance, almost as if he hadn’t quite recognised you till your mom had called you by your name.

Completely stunned, it took a moment before his tree trunk-like arms hesitantly enclosed around your form, “Y/n?” you pulled back and took in his speechless expression, “um, hi,” he exhaled hazily, vibrant eyes dancing over every change that had appeared since you last saw each other.

“You could have called first,” you light-heartedly shoved his broad chest, his warm palms still glued to your waist, “give a girl some warning.”

“Sorry,” he chuckled in return, “I didn’t know going home to visit my own parents required an official warning or something.”

“Sweetie,” your mom ripped your attention back to the task at hand, “I think you might have left that cardigan out back.”

“Oh, thanks!” you smiled before snatching up one of Ari’s hands and stealing him with you. His palm felt so big in yours, so warm and wide, engulfing yours completely. Dragging him along, you quickly became thankful that he couldn’t spot the flush the buzzing contact caused to erupt across your cheeks. “So,” you hesitantly let go as your toes touched the freshly cut blades of grass, “how have you been?”

Sucking in a much-needed breath, he answered, “I’ve been fine, I’ve been good.”

“Arrested a lot of criminals lately? Anything cool? A serial killer maybe?” you asked excitedly as your eyes scanned the garden, searching everywhere from the raised patio to the majestic oak in the bottom corner that accommodated a treehouse worthy of any child’s dream.

“No, no,” he chortled, stuffing his hands in his pockets, “no serial killers, just everyday boring stuff, you know…”

A giddy squeal emitted from your lungs as you finally spotted the lightweight, crumbled, grey knit draped over one of the white chairs slotted to the oblong patio table.

“So, what about you, huh?” Ari asked as you sloppily tied the cardigan around your hips, the rays of sun kissing your exposed skin warmed you up enough not to need it out here.

“Have I arrested any serial killers lately?” you jested.

“No,” he smiled, “what’s new with you?”

“Well, my mom properly already told you,” a bubble of excitement tickled your belly at the news, “but I got into Evergreen University.”

“No way, really?” he exclaimed, both of you naturally shifting to continue the conversation seated.

“Yeah, I start in a little under two months.”

“Is it still psychology that you wanna study or has that changed?”

“No, it’s still that,” his recollection caused your smile to grow, though in that moment it also dawned on you how intensely he was staring, absorbing every micro change to your features, and heat began to rise in your cheeks, “what?”

Not halting his vision’s lavish journey, he hummed, “huh?”

“Why are you looking at me like that? Is there something on my face?”

“No, it’s just-…” his words came out sounding spellbound, “did you always look like this?”

“Um…” you genuinely thought about it a moment, scrambling your brain for a logical answer, “I got a haircut about a month ago, maybe that’s it?”

“No,” a smile tugged at the corners of his lips as his piercing gaze carried on, “it’s definitely not that…”

Positively flustered, you awkwardly changed the subject, “so, uh, do you maybe wanna do something fun while you're home?” shifting in your seat as you proposed, “we could go to the beach or something, like we used to.”

“Sure, I’d love that,” he uttered genuinely.

“Cool,” you gracelessly nodded.

Your attention directed to the fluffy, sheep-like clouds got swept away as a figure appeared in the window opposing to the one in your bedroom. All of the air escaped your lungs as your eyes did a double take on the glistening visage closing the bathroom door behind him into his own childhood room.

To say that you were pleased that your childhood crush had returned was an understatement, to say the least.

Fresh out of the shower, there he emerged. White towel wrapped low around his hips, you could almost make out the water droplets still clinging to his brawny back as he yanked open a few drawers in his dresser in search of a crisp set of clothing.

Cursing softly underneath your breath, your jaw hit the floor as he, with his back still turned to you, let the towel fall before stepping into a pair of black boxers. Rotating gently as he tugged the underwear up into place, you swore you saw just the hint of the part of him that made your centre throb most of all, though you had to lean on your overactive imagination to fill out the rest of the masterpiece.

Dreamy head cocked to the side as you peep, it took you a second to realise that he was now facing the window, facing you. Not taking a moment to even check if he actually had spotted you, your knees instinctually buckled and sent you soaring down towards the floor, your hands just narrowly catching onto the windowsill for support.

“Hey, honey?” the voice of your mother shot through the house to find your flushed ears, “can you give me a hand setting the table? The Levinsons will be over in a bit!”

“Y-yeah! Yeah!” you shakily replied, cautiously unfurling from the tense ball you had become underneath your window, “I’ll be right there!”

Mild evening air rustling your hair, you dangled your sandal-clad feet over the edge of the slim deck area that wrapped around the western side of the treehouse. With a part of the fence safely slotted in between your thighs, your eyes were busy raking across the blushing skies that stretched over your neighbourhood as a voice from below suddenly caught your attention.

“Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair!” your vision flickered down to spot Ari at the base, ready with one hand on the sturdy ladder, the other one dexterously balanced two frosty cones as he offered, “might I interest you in some ice cream?”

The sinful peepshow you had caught earlier that day had made casually sitting across from him at dinner rather overwhelming, both your families' presents not helping to make it less awkward. So as soon as you’d scarfed down your last bite, you excused yourself and ducked up into the treehouse, in hopes of a chance to finally cool down.

“How is that even a question?” you called down, watching as he carefully made his way up the tree.

“Okay,” he exhaled as he settled in beside you, his warm leg ghosting against your own and causing goosebumps to erupt underneath your dress, “so, I’ve got one strawberry and one that’s-,” you didn’t need an introduction to deduct that the other one was exactly the rich chocolate one you always gravitated towards. Snatching it up with an eager squeal before he could even get the words out, he simply laughed, “oh, you’re just going right for it. I don’t know why I even bothered to offer you a choice,” watching as you hummed in delight, the frosty treat being just what you had wanted. Having a nibble at his own, he twisted his torso slightly and took in the familiar playground, “man… this place really hasn’t changed one bit.”

Peaking over your shoulder as well, you shrugged, “of course not,” his attention jaggedly returned to you as your tongue swiped out to lap up the coco droplets already melting down your hand, “this is our place, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember,” he uttered distantly, a warm smile blooming on his lips at the memories of the favoured game back when he used to babysit you, “our little kingdom. What was the name of it again?”

“Uh, it was-, it was…” you scrambled your brain with no success, “I actually don’t remember anymore,” you squinted back at him, too wrapped up in your own thought to feel your ice cream melt further down your forearm, “I feel like it might have started with an E or something?” eyes growing wide, your body suddenly froze up as Ari’s forefinger unexpectedly reached out and swiped up the thawed treat, cleaning the milky streek and bringing it back up to his own lips. “D-do you want a taste?” you blinked, chest heaving as you hesitantly offered your flavour, his intense gaze melting you faster than the ice cream could even keep up with.

Eyes locked on you, he uttered, “I still can’t believe you haven’t got yourself a boyfriend.”

“What?” you giggled breathily, the subject haven come up rather quickly after his yearned for return.

“I mean, look at you,” you felt your palm grow clammy around the cold cone at his affectionate words, “were you really always this pretty?”

Your face surely resembling a tomato at this point, you averted your gaze, “I literally have ice cream all over myself.”

“Y/n, you’re-…” your eyes flickered back up to meet his dusky ones, “it’s just insane to me that there isn’t a line from here till Timbuktu of people trying to get with you.”

Utterly stunned, you found yourself suddenly leaning in, letting the overwhelming high his compliments infused in you push you to press your lips against his own in a chased and timid kiss. Reeling back practically as soon as there was even a fraction of contact, a storm swiftly assaulted your mind.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you gasped, fighting the urge to scream at your own hormonal instincts getting the best of you, “please just forget that ever-”

But your mortified apology was hastily cut short as you felt Ari’s free hand find the back of your head and lead it back towards him for a ravenous kiss. It felt like he had just flipped your world upside down, twisted everything you thought was wrong into the truth. In your eyes, there hadn’t ever been anyone but him. Not that you hadn’t tried after he moved away, you had, but no boy you stumbled upon could ever compare to how he made you feel.

Or how he used to make you feel, because what was coursing through your body now was nothing like you’d ever felt. A kiss had never been so sweet, so hypnotic, so dangerous…

Sensing the cone of ice cream fall from your slackened grasp, the dull sound of it spattering against the grass below ceased to reach your ears. Like a man starved, Ari’s tongue met yours in a flowing dance, your arms timidly coming up to drape around his neck for support as he too tossed his pink ice cream without a care in the world.

Arms around your form, wide palms nearly burning through the material of your thin dress, he then tipped the both of you to the side, sending you farther away from the edge and further inside the interior of the cosy treehouse.

Even sprawled out on your sides, his lips never ceased, staying glued to yours in the heated make-out as if it was oxygen to him. Gripping you tight, his broad palms felt you up, causing your toes to curl in your sandals and a muffled moan to vibrate against his lips, a sound that only kindled his inner flame that much further.

In one smooth motion, he rotated your tangled forms, rolling on top of you and with a firm grip at your bottom, just shy beneath your dress, hauled your shorter form further up beneath his, allowing your lips to remain at an equivalent height.

Fingers digging into your thighs, you clenched them tightly around his hips, lending you to feel even more of the palpable tent that had been so intoxicatingly nudging at your pantie-clad centre, your flowy dress haven already ridden all the way up and granting you to feel that much more.

Mind already two steps ahead of yours, his hips rolled against your own, both of your elated noises melting into one.

Nevertheless, right as his fingers tore one of your straps down your shoulder, a matronly voice called out from the garden below, “hey, Ari? Hon?” both of you froze up at his mother’s shout, effectively rousing you from your fever dream, “your phone is ringing.”

Breathless, you both blinked back at each other as he mustered an answer, “alright,” his voice thick and his eyes still dark, “I’ll be right down.”

How were you ever going to fall asleep? Every single molecule in your body still buzzed of the adrenaline from what had transpired earlier that evening.

Catching sight of yourself in the mirror that hung on the wall, you couldn’t help but giggle as you still felt your lips tingle in remembrance. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a light flicker on in the neighbouring window parallel to your own. Your breath hitched as you spotted your childhood crush already gazing back at you.

Raising your hand, you offered him a small wave, one which he swiftly mirrored, the silly notion conjuring a noticeable chuckle to rumble within his chest.

You still weren’t fully convinced that it had actually happened. Not only had you kissed him, but he had actually kissed you back in such a manner that it was sure to erase any form of doubt about what his intentions might be.

Averting your gaze for what only felt like a moment, your head light-heartedly shaking in disbelief as you blinked down at your nightgown, the material bunched up at your thighs as you sat on the bed, the next thing you knew, the sound of a pebble hitting your window caught your attention.

Had he climbed out of his own window? Went through a door? You couldn’t tell, because all you could focus on was the dimly lit visage of him coming to rest his folded arms against your windowsill.

Getting up, you hastily worked at pushing it open, “h-hi,” you giggled nervously, a hand swiftly shooting up to muffle your laugh.

“Hi,” he smiled, readjusting his grip on the ledge, “can I come in?”

“You wanna come in?” your eyebrows briefly shot up before you attempted a nonchalant, “y-yeah, sure,” your heart hammering against your ribcage at an impossible speed.

Expecting him to walk around to the front door and sneak his way in, he instead just pulled himself up and crawled directly into your room.

“Hey,” he breathed as he found his footing.

“Hello,” you chuckled back, “you already said that. How many times do you plan on greeting me tonight?”

“As many times as you want me to,” he smirked, carefully catching your hands in his and consequently making your breathing become a little more difficult to manage with such dizzying contact. Staring down at your conjoined palms, he then weaved his fingers with yours and spoke frankly, “so, about earlier…”

“Yeah?” you breathed, trying to prepare yourself for the worst.

“That was-…” he cut his own sentence off with a long exhale, a fuzzy smile overtaking his features, his head lightly shaking as his eyes finally lifted to meet yours.

Biting down on your bottom lip, you hoped that you had caught on to the unspoken message, “…it was?”

Vision flickering down to your bitten lips, he nodded softly and confirmed, “it was,” though the kiss he then pulled you into was really what sealed the deal for your youthful brain.

“This is crazy,” you managed to utter between hungry pecks.

“Too crazy?” he pulled back a bit, hands rooted on either side of your head.

“No, just-…” you felt in that moment as if you could faint, “you have no idea how long I’ve dreamed about this…”

“Oh, yeah?” he breathed out a smile before softly capturing your lips once more.

With your hands rooted tightly in his shirt, his hot skin burned through the light cotton, “is this really happening?”

“What do you think is happening?” he challenged playfully, his hands descending, running down your spine.

“Are we really about to-, you know…” you uttered nervously.

“Only if you want us to,” he replied, only for your heightened nerves to finally sink in, “wait, have you not-…” cheeks burning up, you shyly shook your head, “ever?”

“No…” you confessed, an automatic, “I’m sorry…” swiftly leaving your timid lips.

“No, no, that’s alright, that’s okay,” he rushed to reassure you, a hand flying up to cup your flush cheek.

Searching his eyes in the moonlight, “you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t mind?” your brows furrowed, doubting his unexpectedly copious comfort.

Attempting to hide a smirk, he disclosed, “actually find it really hot, so no, Y/n, I don’t mind.”

“Oh…” you breathed, eyes growing wide, “okay.”

Watching you gingerly, he checked once more, “but, you do want to?”

“Yes,” the reply flew from your lungs out of fear that he would take it back, “please.”

“Okay,” he smiled softly, pulling you back in, “but please promise that you will tell me if you’ve had enough, wanna slow down, pause, anything,” eyes flickering up to the corner of the ceiling to list off, “kick, scream, whisper, I don’t care how, just let me know, okay?”

Letting your actions do the talking, you reached up and tugged him down to seal it with a kiss, “okay,” you eventually smiled against his own. After stealing a few additional propitious pecks, your hands trekked down his torso, feeling his muscles flex beneath your travelling touch as they eventually came to a halt at the bottom of his shirt, your fingers weaving in the fabric before you pulled back to ask softly, “may I?”

A gentle chuckle fanned out across your features as he promptly raised his arms up enough for you to tug the soft cotton over his head. It was in no way the first time you’d seen him shirtless, but it sure felt like it as the shirt hazily drop from your fingers at the breathtaking sight.

Running his palms reassuringly down your upper arms, your eyes then flickered between his own and the belt he wore, asking him for permission with your glances.

When his pants hit the floor, so did your jaw, a reaction in which he couldn’t help but smugly flourish in, your eyes glued to the intimidating tent tight within his black boxers, he adoringly plucked up your speechless face and softened the blow with a kiss that took your breath away.

His lips then began to wander, over your jaw, down your neck, and when your heavy lids blinked open, you saw his towering presence begin to shrink down onto his knees before you. Fingers tightly fisting the flowy fabric of your nightgown, he nuzzled his face into your softness on his slow descent, practically growling as he gently nipped at your covered boobs, inhaling your scent in deeply as his fingers came up to lightly teased the pebbly nipples poking him through the material.

Slowly exploring your form over your clothes, gazing up at you with his soulful eyes, he soon settled on his knees. Keeping his eyes locked on yours, he slowly began to plant fluttering pecks all across your exposed thighs, his palms likewise gently caressing your legs. The comforting contact of his slowly ascending touch soon found the hem of your nightgown, gradually lifting it up and granting his lips the access to dance up towards your hips, the kisses occasionally coming dangerously close to soaked panties, though never quite meeting either.

Leaning back, one hand held up your sleepwear as he took in the sight of what effect he had on you. Dragging his other over your goosebump-ridden flesh, he then boldly slid a few of the fingers under the strip of your underwear that stretched over your left hip, securely hooking them there before extending his broad thumb and swiping it over the wet patch adoring your panties.

“Has anyone ever touched you like this?” he asked huskily as your brows knitted together at the pleasure of his teasingly grazing your covered clit, your wayward arms curling up against your chest, unintentionally pressing your tits together for him.

“N-no,” your breath hitched, eyes fighting to stay open.

Leaning forward, he placed a gentle peck over your covered slit, your pussy throbbing beneath his kiss as he glanced up to gauge your reaction, “is it okay?” his hot breath fanned across your centre.

Finding it impossible to speak when he flashed you that look, you simply nodded eagerly and whimpered as his thumb pressed down harder, rolling your swollen pearl over the soaked cotton.

Growing impatient, though also fearing that he’d make you cum before any of your clothing came off, you fervently lowered your fingers and began to tug your underwear down, Ari swiftly catching on and finishing the job himself.

“Fuck,” he stared, the sight nearly knocking the wind out of him, “you’re incredible…”

Nerves still growing under his adoring gaze, you found yourself promptly pulling his physique back up, tugging him close enough for your lips to crash against his own out of hope that it could soothe your understandable tensions.

Fingers still tangled in your nightgown, palming you hungrily through it as your lips ravaged each other’s, your bodies were so close that you nearly climbed him like a tree, though as you then momentarily parted for a breath of much-needed air, he impatiently yanked the shift up over your head and tossed it to the floor where most of his clothing lied in a crumbled pile.

Plucking you up with surprising ease, you felt as your core soaked his bulge on the short journey to your bed. Cradling you against him as he sat down on the edge, his tongue danced over yours as you settled on his lap, the light night breeze, blowing through the still open window, washed over your nude body, though the mild summer air wasn’t to blame for the shiver that ran down you spine.

Giving your tits a needy squeeze, he then murmured, “I feel like my eyes have been closed my whole life,” a hushed moan rushed out of him as you rocked your centre against his, the hardness so deliciously nudging against you, “how have I not seen that you’ve been right under my nose this whole time?”

“I was just a kid,” you stated, threading your fingers in his hair, “we both were.”

“Yeah, well you’re sure as fuck not that anymore,” he snaked a hand down between your tangled forms, sighing longingly as your abundant arousal soaked his fingers. “Has no one really ever touched you here before?” he asked you brashly as he strummed your clit, “not even just a little bit?”

“No, never anywhere,” your nose bumped against his, “only ever kissed, but it never felt like this,” your lips grazed his once more, pointing out the spark.

A sharp gasp left your body as Ari’s middle finger breached your trembling opening after teasingly nudging it for what felt like an eternity. Already being agonisingly fired up before your clothes even hit the floor, now that you felt his thick digit tenderly pumping inside of you, working you up for more of his fingers, as well as his hot breath tickling the rabid pulse clear on your neck, it seemed like an impossible task to stop the crash that was about to transpire.

Broad thumb steady on your puffy clit, he just managed to slide his ring finger in beside the other before your world came tumbling down around you.

Crumbling down, your face nuzzled into his sturdy shoulder as your pussy clenched onto his now motionless fingers for dear life. With his free hand gently stroking up and down your back, he breathed, “you wanna keep going or was that enough?” tilting his chin to plant a soothing peck on your hairline as you regained your breath.

“More,” your hazy voice vibrated against his skin, “I wanna feel you, I wanna feel all of you.”

“Well, you should probably know that I don’t have any condoms with me,” he reluctantly informed you, “so we can still do a lot of fun stuff, but we properly shouldn’t do everything-,” the rest of his sentence then crumbled as you hastily jumped up and yanked open the small drawer in your bedside table, “what are you doing?”

Pushing aside the books you used as a cover, you picked up a slim, flashy box containing the lacking item in question and showed it to him, “one of my friends gave it to me as a joke for my last birthday,” you explained in an adorably timid manner.

Blinking back at you, he then let out a genuine laugh, the warm and relieved sound rumbling within the room as you felt the sensation of your juices running down your inner thighs.

“You’re so amazing, you know that right?” he bubbled, pulling you back into his arms and capturing your lips in an adoring kiss.

Hooking the tips of your fingers in the waistband of his boxers as you kissed him back, it took you a second to muster up the courage to tug them off. Peeking down, you swiftly let out a breathy, “oh my god,” as you watched his intimidating girth spring out. Blinking up at him with wide eyes, then back down again, he attempted to swipe the small box from your hands, but you wouldn’t let him, determined to try yourself.

“You’re not gonna hurt me, baby,” he poked fun at how feathery and careful your touch was as you gingerly rolled the latex on. Gentle pride blossomed on your face in the form of a smile as you successfully finished the task, Ari then promptly scooted you both back further onto the mattress, a manoeuvre that caused your torso to drop down, your back melting into the mattress from the way he had manhandled you into place.

Resting on his knees with your legs draped over each of his thick thighs, he smiled down at your molten form and yanked your hips closer, “come here,” he uttered hoarsely over the giggle the rollercoaster of a move triggered within you, although the laugh quickly faded away as the hefty weight of his dick in his hand came down to tap your puffy clit.

Watching with heavy lids as a dollop of spit dropped from his lips and down upon your already sodden folds, he then lavishly spread it around your pussy with his hard length, coating the excess over himself. Fucking your petals, parting the mess, and nudging your clit till you were wiggling out of your skin, his hands then slid under your spine and pulled you back up into his lap.

Hugging your arms around his neck, your eyes never left his as you gently lifted yourself up, one of his burly forearms swiftly scooping under your bottom in support as he dragged the flush head of his cock through your dripping heat, your forehead dropping down against his at the buzzing bliss.

So slowly that it felt as if time had stopped itself, you sank down, gasping as only the tip stretched you out.

“Shit,” he uttered quietly, fingertips digging into your ass to control himself from not just slamming you down all the way. Forgetting how to breathe, overwhelmed by what little you had received, by what little you felt brave enough to conquer, you gazed back at him as he whispered, “you feel so good…” sensing your pussy clench around his vast girth at his silky words, your eyes fluttered closed at the intensity, “so fucking warm…” he sloppily planted a few comforting pecks along your flush cheek, “gripping onto me so good…” the hand not under you drifted up to trace the curve of your spine, your lungs jaggedly expanding underneath his palm.

Unhurriedly, your body eventually relaxed and gently began to move, shallowly fucking the very tip of him, even though just that already felt like more than you could handle, the way the bulbous head stretched you out being unimaginable.

“Oh my god,” you whined as the hand on your back slid around your form, sweetly coming up to brush the wild hair out of your face as he stared deeply into your eyes, “it’s so much!”

“Is it too much?” he asked, burying his face in the swell of your tit.

“I don’t-, I-,” you choked out, incapable of deciphering the correct answer at this staggering moment, “it’s just so much!” blubbering as his lips captured your pebbly nipple, “you’re so much, you’re just so-, oh my god!”

On the verge of cumming again, your hand shot down to rub your clit, his enthusiastic words crashing into you like a wave, “yeah, rub your clit,” grunting as he craned his head to look at the crude vision, “rub it, make yourself cum, come on, I can feel how close you are.”

With lewd moans reverberating off the walls, your body trembled in his grasp as your pussy clamped so tightly that it completely expelled his throbbing tip. Hearing him quietly curse into your ear, you slumped down against his form, your cores still aligned just right for the essence of him to slip back into place, your limps desperately clinging onto his shoulders as you caught your breath.

“This doesn’t even feel like real life,” you mumbled into his skin, the tip of his cock still feeling like a rock inside of you.

Gently tilting your head back, his eyes found your dazed ones as his deep voice washed over you like a warm blanket on a cold winter's night, “it is real life.”

Lip trembling with emotion, you asked, “you promise?”

With the hint of a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth, he let his forehead meet yours as he verified softly, “promise,” thumb soothingly sweeping across your cheek, “you need me to pinch you or something just to make sure?”

Giggling airily at his bad joke, the rumble then swiftly morphed into a hiss as your sensitive cunt consequently contracted around him, “oh fuck, how are you still so big?”

“Uhm,” he chuckled, “I’m sorry?”

“I just wanna feel all of you,” you whined light-heartedly, “but I don’t know how I’m ever gonna get there because it already feels like you’re all the way up here,” you motioned in the direction of your solar plexus.

You knew that you could technically just let go and sink down, but it felt too much like standing at the end of a diving board, too scared to jump even though you knew you’d be okay, the rush of the drop was just too much and led you to chicken out every time.

“You really wanna feel the rest?” he asked, readjusting his hold on you.

Staring back into his eyes, you exhaled into a pout, “I do. I really, really do.”

Capturing your lips in a kiss, you then felt the world tilt as Ari dipped you both down until your back hit the mattress. Distracting you with his tongue, dancing it against your own, he abruptly began to move his hips, fluidly thrusting them forward till his pelvis nuzzled against your own. All the air in your lungs was knocked out as his kiss muffled the loud moan you let out.

“There you go,” he smirked down at you, settling his arms on either side of your face, caging you in and declaring him as your entire reality, “that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Incapable of replying in a more eloquent way than just primal moans, your thighs trembled on either side of him as he slowly pulled back out till just the memory of him remained. Brows knitted together, you glanced down to take in the striking sight of his fat girth splitting you apart.

“Look at how good we look together,” he followed your eye line, strings of your mess keeping his pelvis connected to yours like a carnal spiderweb, even when he slid out, reaching down to briefly glide the underside of him through your sloppy petals, ending by giving your puff a tap so rude that your entire body jumped beneath him, “such a good girl, taking it like a champ,” he buried himself once again, groaning lowly in bliss at the pleasure, “fucking knew you could take it,” he then emphasised each word he uttered next with a merciless thrust, “every god damn inch,” rocking into you so hard that the bed rattled beneath you.

With his dark eyes fixed upon you, absorbing the way your features contorted in ecstasy, the desperate sounds of your wetness were more overbearing than the clapping of skin colliding.

Sneaking another breathless kiss, he then dipped down and nipped along your neck, “fuck, you feel so good,” he moaned, lips wandering up to graze the shell of your ear, “sucking me in so fucking good,” fingers trailing down your quivering form, they dug into your thighs and primally tugged them up, resting your legs upon his sturdy shoulder and bending you in half like a pretzel, “best fucking pussy ever.”

“A-ari!” you whimpered, completely spellbound by the intense sensation of how impossibly deep he went, shaking under him like a leaf as you felt yourself tumble over the edge again.

Tilting his head to catch your eyes, watching how hard they fought to stay open, “I know, I know,” he simply murmured, “don’t push me out, I know you’re gonna cum, but please keep me inside, I wanna feel it, I wanna feel you,” not changing his speed one bit as you felt your pussy begin to shower him with love, soaking the sheets below as your cunt choked his cock.

You didn’t even register how obscenely loud you got as the overwhelming orgasm seemed to go on forever, his own selfish efforts in relishing in the sensation did nothing but draw it out even further, his rhythmic thrusts stayed steady till he’d emptied himself in the latex and you had nearly passed out from pleasure.

Peering up at him through your wispy lashes, tangled in the dewy aftermath, you began to giggle softly.

“What?” he chuckled groggily.

“I-… no, never mind,” you squashed the thought, “it’s silly…”

“What is it?” his palm slid up against the side of your cheek.

Vision flickering from one of his eyes to the next, you timidly spoke from the heart, “it's just that my wish came true. I always wanted you to be my first,” an unreadable expression crossed his features at the softness of your confession. He didn’t say anything, simply reached out and kissed you bittersweetly, though your blissed-out antennas didn’t catch onto that detail in the slightest, “you know, Evergreen isn’t too far away from where you work…”

You didn’t know what hour you had finally fallen asleep, but apparently, at some point, you had, as you now found yourself stirring from your dreams, soar and a hazy smile still plastered upon your lips. Gliding your hand over the covers in search of your neighbour, you didn’t bump into his form and blinked open your eyes to find that he had gone.

Trying not to freak out, you figured that maybe he didn’t wanna get into a sticky situation if your parents were to spontaneously waltz in at the crack of dawn and had therefore sneaked out.

Though when you peeked out your window to spy through his it was completely void of any sign of life. Could he unexpectedly have gotten called forcing him back to work or was there another reasonable explanation for his absence?

Shrugging on the minty, terrycloth robe that hung on the knob of your closet door, you strolled out of your door. Entering the kitchen where your mother already sat, she glimpsed up from her newspaper and flashed you a bright smile, “good morning, honey.”

“Morning, mom,” you cracked open a cupboard, seized a glass and held it under the tab which you swiftly turned on.

“Oh,” she excitedly perked up from behind you, “have you seen what finally came in the mail?” glass full, you turned to see the opened envelope she was referring to, the swirling words that were scribbled upon the cracked open card instantly made you’re your blood run cold and the glass nearly slip out of your grasp, “I still think it’s silly that they actually sent out ours with everyone else’s and didn’t just toss it over the hedge, but sure, I do get that there is something very romantic about sending and receiving wedding invitations in the mail.”

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iamsofabulous · 1 year

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ari’s spoiled baby princess gf ♡

reblogs are appreciated! u are allowed to use this as inspo for ur stories!

requests are open! ୨୧

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neonovember · 1 year

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Redwood Oak’s

Mafia!au x Steve Rogers

CHAPTERS: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

summary: your escape to Brooklyn was harboured by secrets and a harrowed past, left abused and betrayed, you accepted your destiny of being swallowed by the crowd. Until the King of New York showed up in front of you and wanted a piece of you for himself.

divider by @firefly-graphics !

Taglist 🏷️ (send an ask to be part of my taglist for this series!)

@tinkerbelle67 @patzammit @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory@nomadstucky @nessie2183 @shamelessfangirl-3 @namelesssav @marvel-phoenix @euphoric-goddess @roseeatta @abschaffer2 @louderfortheback @stupendouslovegardener @wandamaximoff-simp @thedonswife13 @hpsimpspot @samsgirl93 @cynic-spirit

Steve's words echo loudly in your skull like a ball being knocked around your head, turning your brain to mush. The warmth of Steve's breath that had gripped you like a vice had dissipated the second the both of you had entered the expansive room of Steve's Office.

You don't see it, but Steve clenches his jaw in tight restraint to stop himself from putting a hole in Rumlow’s head and instead envelopes himself into the stone-faced demeanor he had learnt to form the moment he stepped up to the throne destined for him.

But god, did that horrified look on yourself tear Steve from the inside out. What had he done to you? It screamed betrayal in Steve's mind, that you not only had been hurt but by one of his own men. The man who had sworn to protect you had lied. And for Steve, his word was as good as its weight in fucking gold.

Steve had to play it level headed, the heavy weight of his father's presence was always near, but it seemed to cloud his vision at this moment,

“Don’t do nuthin stupid, think, just stop for a second and think”

Steve didn't want to think, he wanted to delve deep into the darkened desire within him that preened at the idea of Rumlows blood dripping between his clenched fists. Steve’s desire for violence shocked him a little, he could feel his fist shaking under his grip, like they had a mind of their own.

Steve wasn't a violent man, he was sensible, it didn’t matter if the entire city of New York believed he was cruel, because he knew every action had a means, it wasn't just to spill blood and crack skin. Steve’s entire enterprise was never built on appearances, despite the world it lives in, nothing Steve did didn't have an objective reason. He thought that would be a light of mercy before the spray of blood would coat his button-up.

But now, there didn't seem to be any reason to wait and sit, in the end, it all seemed sensible. Any threat of danger to your life needed to be eliminated, and returned with such a display of cruelty that no one would try it again. There was a gnawing feeling, however, at the recesses and edges of Steve's mind, the kind that screamed at him to see what was truly happening.

“Look”, and Steve learnt to listen.

There was something more to Rumlow than just scaring you, something more sinister, it echoed deep within Steve and the reminder of the cruel world beneath the gravel ground was as clear as ever. Steve had to find out because now he felt that your safety was his responsibility, an obligation he felt every bone within him scream to fulfil.

“Bucky” Steve calls the brown-haired man dressed down in a black suit, the outline of a holster poking through the waist of his jacket.

Bucky murmurs something into Sam's ear, before making his way towards Steve, his gaze shifting between you and the tall blonde standing a few spaces behind you.

“Need something from me, Steve?” Bucky says, making an effort to keep his gaze towards Steve, despite Steve's gaze being situated on you.

“Take our friend here to get something to eat, and then use one of my cars to get her home”. Steve murmurs, almost discreetly so only the three of you can hear.

You noticeably fidget at the mention of going home, it wasn't that you didn't want to, you did, by all accounts, but you didn't know what you would open the door to when you did end up back at the decrepit apartment complex you loved. Your apartment wasn't necessarily known for being the most well-secured, but you figured your neighbours would at least tell you if someone had broken in and trashed the place.

Steve moves towards Bucky, turning his body to face away from your wandering gaze

“Take one of my unmarked cars, it seems we’ve got a fuckin rat in our very own house” Steve whispered into Bucky’s ear, causing Bucky to turn his head to face Steve. A look passes between the both of them, their eyes conversing in a way words never could, in a way that told you they had been brothers long before this entire world fell upon their shoulders.

“Well go on then” Steve’s deep voice whispers into your ear, you can taste the heat of his hand pressing onto your waist, as you feel the outline of his revolver press into the small of your back.

“Don’t think I won’t hurt my men to protect you, I’ll kill him if I have to” Steve murmurs, he doesn’t have to say his name, but your mind has been repeating it enough to know who he's talking about, and your heart skips a beat in surprise, air catches your lungs and you have to swallow back the strange feeling brewing in your stomach before following Bucky’s pointed gaze out the office doors, several dozen eyes watching your every step.

The squeak of Bucky’s dress shoes and the click of your pump loafers follow each other down the carpet and painting-lined hallways. You sneak glances through half-open doors and you're met with similar pictures, women and men dressed in black and white staff uniform cleaning and dusting away priceless antiques, ruffling pillows and beds that were never going to be slept in, and folding the endless crisp white shirts Steve wore.

You pass a hallway that looks different to the rest, darker somehow like it was sacred. You don't see any of the endless staff coming out of any of the rooms too, and the millions of questions it springs forth have your eyes squinting to see past the 2 main opening doors.

Bucky turns a corner quickly, and without realising you bump into his back, the rock-hard muscle acting like a brick to cushion your fall. You can’t help but let out a loud yelp, before Bucky turns and catches you from falling flat on your face.

You look up at him clearly flustered, and Bucky gazes down at you in interest, he begins to murmur something but thinks better of it, and slowly lets go of his grip on your waist.

Coughing, he straightens his suit, before motioning forward

“We’re here”

“Hmh? Where is here-” You say

“Oh”

You look towards the expansive dining room, fitted with leather couches surrounding a cast stone fireplace connected to a brick stone kitchen, an iridescent chandelier hangs from the tall ceilings, looking as if diamonds were dripping from above, and the halo of a sparkle glints over the both of you and you can't help but gaze in awe.

“Gorgeous isn't it?” Bucky says, and you glance at him watching the way the chandelier cuts the sunlight so it breaks across the dining room.

It was beautiful, despite being in a room that was in a house of violence, it was the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.

“Bucky? I thought you already emptied out my kitchen” Calls a voice from the kitchen

Bucky turns towards the voice, a smile for the first time appears on his face and he walks up with you trailing behind.

“You’re still here? I thought Steve gave you the rest of the week off?” Bucky says, and as you walk past the expansive dining room you see a woman dressed in a dirty apron, wiping down a pristine marble countertop that Bucky leans on.

Pots and pans hang from high above the centre block, glinting in a perfect steel arrangement, long panned windows filter light in from the manicured lawns and an array of shelves and creme cabinets line the kitchen. A double burner oven is situated against a grey stone wall, and low-hanging lantern lights are hung from above. David would have loved cooking in this kitchen, that is all you can fathom as you gaze across the opulent space.

You are too fazed to take notice of the conversation happening beside you, until the kind woman looks towards you, cocking her head, her hazel eyes gaze you up and down, taking notice of your strange attire.

“And who is this?”

“One of Steve’s friends came here to get her something to eat but if you're leaving, just know your kitchen is in great hands” Bucky smirks towards the woman, who shakes her head reverently.

“Oh absolutely not, he burnt soup once, goddamn soup!” The woman scolds, a frightened expression taking over her face as she widens her eyes at you.

You can't help but let out a giggle, she was nice, this woman, dark auburn hair braided into a fishtail cascades down her back, her cheeks full as her big brown eyes smile at you.

“Hey!, it was one of those artisan ones alright, screw me for trying to follow a recipe online” Bucky replies, rolling his eyes at the woman as he tries to argue his side to you

“It’s soup Bucky, you put it in a pot and let it heat up” You reply, shaking your head, the woman looks up at you swiftly, a look comes over her face and she nods.

“By your clothing, I can see you are a curator of the kitchen as well?” The woman replies

You look up at her surprised, “Oh no, I’m,-I’m just a waitress”

“Well does the waitress have a name?” She replies

You hadn't had to introduce yourself for much of your life, your name and entire identity stolen and curated by your husband until he was the one introducing you, and now, the sound of your voice feels foreign on your tongue.

“A pretty name for a pretty lady, my name’s Katerina, but just because you're a friend of a friend you can call me Kat. So what would ya like darling?” She says

“Oh, no” You take notice of the recently wiped down and cleaned tabletops

“It’s alright, you've already cleaned up everything and I'm not that hungry, besides Bucky promised to show me around the Manor '' You reply, wiping a hand down to iron out the wrinkles in your work shirt.

“I did?” Bucky replies, and you turn your head, pleading with him to go along with it

“Oh yeah, um, I’ve got to get my Vitamin D you know” Bucky coughs, wincing as he digs his hands into his dress pants.

Kat looks between the both of you, a knowing smile on her face as she nods,

“Oh, I know you'll be here a while.'' She replies, before you both bid your goodbyes and head out through the French doors and onto the stone steps of the entryway of the Manor.

“You really made me lie in front of Kat? What do you think this is? You know I don’t answer to you, and Steve told me to make sure you eat something, especially since last night-” Bucky scolds, before cutting himself off at the mention of your embarrassing

“You know about last night?” You mumble, the burn of embarrassment crawls up your chest as Bucky shifts his gaze to you in guilt

“Parts alright? It was late at night when Steve found you at that bar and it was getting..I just knew I had never seen Steve so, so..” Bucky trails over, shifting his gaze from your eyes.

“So what?” You reply, Bucky was about to tell you something about Steve, specifically last night and every inch of you wanted to know what it was.

“Forget about it” Bucky replies, and you shake your head defiantly.

“No, no I won’t, ever since that day Steve walked into my diner, I’ve been doing this blindfolded dance, spinning around the truth but never being told anything” You reply, challenging Bucky.

Bucky pulls his tongue from his cheek, eyes trailing the manicured garden of the front lawn before looking down at you.

“He was silent. He didn’t say anything the entire ride back, just motionless. And I know Steve has that stone face going on, but honestly? It was like he was thinking, plotting something in that mind of his, and he didn't stop until you were taken to your room and tucked in, hell he didn't stop until we both walked into those office doors”.

You look down at your hands, twirling the old copper band around your index. Thinking? Thinking? You didn't have a clue how to read Steve, let alone know what he could be thinking of all things.

“What does that even mean?” You reply

“It means Steve is deeper in this than he thinks he is,” Bucky replies.

You catch your tongue before you reply with what automatically pops into your head,

If Steve was in this knee-deep, you were entirely swallowed.

Your eyes catch a light shining from the corner of your peripheral vision, over the wall overgrown with ivy.

“I wasn’t lying before,” You say

“Hmph?” Bucky asks, clocking his eyebrow

“Take me there” You reply, pointing towards the wall towards the back of the Manor.

“You mean the abandoned garden?” Bucky scoffs, shaking his head

“If it’s abandoned then no one will know we’re there, right?” You argue

Bucky narrows his eyes, but reluctantly agrees, walking down the steps in long strides as you run after him to catch up.

You both walk along the expansive gravel driveway, the piercing gaze of Steve from the office window above follows the both of you as you venture through the spiny trail that leads to the garden hidden beyond the large hanging evergreen trees that grew along all over the grounds.

Almost losing your balance once or twice, you finally make it through the overgrown foliage, following the stone trail that soon crumbled into the dark dirt floor. Bucky steps over a broken step, before unlatching some kind of bolt and shoving a rotten gate open, breaking the vines that had once grown on the wood.

You walk through the opened gate, Bucky following close behind, and the shrubbery opens up to a clearing. Large evergreen trees like the ones near the Manor surround the open land, however, a different kind of tree stands sky high, and you can’t stop yourself from walking up to one, and feeling the maroon bark rough against your fingers.

You close your eyes and it comes to you,

Redwood oaks.

Times when you would think hard enough, the silhouette of skyscraping trunks, and deep green leaves would cloud your vision, and when you lean your head forward you can almost smell your past. It is beautiful and strange and it hurts just as much. You can’t find yourself anymore, you've resigned yourself to that, but these thousand-year-old trees make you feel more connected than ever.

You want to climb into it and let it consume you. Sleep until you woke up and you knew who you were. It’s strange, the tree reminds you of Steve somehow, like you've been here with him before and it's hitting you like deja vu.

Something has gifted between the both of you, between you and Bucky too, you noticed it today when he spoke to you rather than through you. He didn't have that unsure expression anymore like he didn't fully trust you, and you don't know whether it was because of Steve or because of last night.

The clearing is almost a hill, and you can see fields of honey-coloured wheat and grass cascade into hills as you look beyond the tall trees. You can make out the backbones of where some sort of wooden shelter or structure once stood, now all that was left was a pile of rotting wood and leaves.

“Why is this place abandoned,” You say, it was gorgeous and let in the sun in just the right way for it to be reflected from the trees and shower the clearing with a honey glow, but it was hidden. And all hidden things were hidden for a reason.

“Don't know, it's been in Steve's family for generations, rented out to a couple people and then sold to a family in the mafia. Until Steve bought it back, it seems like this used to be where some sort of sheltered seating area once stood” Bucky replies, digging his shoe into the dirt.

“Yeah well it seems like someone’s put it to good use” You reply, noticing a small hardwood sculpting table fitted next to a workbench, a small but well-built wooden gazebo shelters the workspace, and you want to step forward but something tells you that place is sacred.

A sound comes out of Bucky and when you turn your head, he looks towards the gazebo like he knows who it belongs to. It hits you that he probably does, being the eyes that see all in the place anyway.

“This place yours or something?” You reply, and Bucky looks towards you in surprise like he forget you were there.

“Hmp? No, not me necessarily, but I think I know who” Bucky murmurs, his eyes trailing back to Manor fixating on Steve's office and you have to swallow the laugh that erupts at the assumption.

“Steve? If Steve was to have a hideout behind his Manor it would be for a guillotine, not an easel” You reply.

You look towards the Manor and even though your vision only catches the pitched roof peeking through the dark pine trees you don’t doubt by the feeling crawling up your arm that Steve is watching you too.

“Steve, he's done something but, he's- he's a good man” Bucky replies, turning a rock onto its smooth side between his hands

“Oh yeah? Just like my husband is? I’m starting to figure out good men don’t need to say they're good men” You retort

Bucky shakes his head, turning the rock between his hands before tossing it into the shrubbery.

“You’re husband, he's done things you can't even imagine, he is the farthest from Steve, he's the farthest that Steve could ever be” Bucky replies with a heated tone.

For some reason that statement sent a burn down your stomach, in some sick way, you felt it was your responsibility to protect your husband's honour and name in front of Bucky, but it disappears when you realise you're the one who had run across the country to escape the very man Bucky loathes.

“I know the things he's done alright? I’m not that oblivious”

“I’m sure you aren't, Steve wouldn't go through all this trouble for someone who isn't..smart. But what you know about your husband is only what he's allowed you to see, in this life, there's so much that goes between looks and eyes,”

“Steve, it's this life that's changed him, changed all of us, swallowed him up until we couldn't even recognise each other. God I wish you could have seen him before, he was so carefree, ran like the wind couldn't even catch him. Your husband, evil like that is born in you, encoded into your DNA until you know nothing else" Bucky replies

“How do you expect me to believe that about him if you leave me in the dark all this time? You say Steve is a good man, well then tell me how” You reply

Bucky grinds his teeth, his jaw working as he weighs the metaphorical pros and cons of letting you in, and telling you things you he doesn't doubt Steve hasn’t. It was strange, Bucky felt it was wrong for you to be in this agreement with Steve so blindly, Steve had told him he wanted to protect you, but how can he say that when you don't even know what he's protecting you from?

With a gruff sigh, Bucky turns his neck to face you, delving into one of the main, if not the entire reason Steve is the way he is, and of course it had to be connected to you.

“About a decade or so ago, Steve was in love with a woman, she was everything to him, his breath, his bones, his love, she owned it all. Now it was about the time when Steve was ordained to take over from his father, it was a tradition since the Rogers planted their foot in the underworld, and it was once Steve's father did not take it lightly. Taking over meant your entire life would be dedicated to this throne, you would live, breathe and eat business, and for Steve, what he lived for was her.” Bucky shifts so that his gaze moves from the Manor. And like he's ashamed to be telling you this, to let the stark demeanour of Steve crack.

Bucky chuckles in the sort of way that wasn’t out of humour, your eyes strain as you peer at him, watching him scratch his jaw and tussle his brown locs free from their curls.

“Steve’s father could sense his weakness before it even started, I guess he thought Steve would realise what was at stake, the responsibilities that he had to honour as part of this family. That week before his coronation, Steve refused his father in front of an entire dining room of men. He refused to let go of her in exchange for his marriage to the throne. Told all of them that he was going to marry her and run off. And I still don't know if it was a show of discipline or plain evil, but Steve never got that chance” Bucky says.

“What do you mean?” You reply, your confused expression turning grim as you notice the bleak look on Bucky's face.

“She was- she was murdered that very next morning” Bucky replies, his eyes returning to you, as you whip your head back to stare at him in horror.

“Your husband, was paid by Steve’s father to murder his fiance” Bucky replies after a beat, your breath leaves your chest as you stare at him in disbelief, hands grasping the edges of your apron as you wait for the punchline, and Bucky stares at you in anguish as you realise there isn't.

You don't know what sounds leave your mouth, just the look of Bucky’s face tears you away from his gaze and the tears glide down your neck. You don’t bother to wipe them, you don't doubt there is more anguish to come, more revelations that will have your head spinning, more secrets that were kept from you.

“Hey, hey, look at me” Bucky replies

“I can’t, I didn’t tell you this for nothing alright? I can’t have you leaving here teary-eyed, you told me you were strong yeah? So be strong. Your husband is a murdering psychopath, he has been since he was a teenager, this mercenary job was done to get his foot in this business, and now you're all muddled up in it too. And Steve, he doesn’t want what happened to her to happen to you” Bucky replies, squeezing your arm to shake you back to the present.

“But why? Why would Steve’s father do that?” You reply

Bucky stares off into the curving hills of wheat and grass, shaking his head before replying

“It was Steve’s obligation, it had been since he was conceived, Steve's father thought he gave him a life free of responsibilities while growing up in that town, he didn't think that recklessness would follow him to Brooklyn”.

“Town? What town” You ask, and this time Bucky avoids your gaze, whispering incoherent obscenities under his breath

“That is something only Steve can tell you, me and Steve grew up together in Brooklyn during our teenage years. That place was something from before even that, before even me”. Bucky replies

You nod as you stare at the river that swirled across the Manor grounds, the shock of your husband's role in Steve’s becoming the invisible stone-faced don he was now didn't fully hit you yet. It was like you were numb, forced to put on a brave face in front of Bucky, who had trusted you enough to tell you about Steve.

Steve.

The man who you had believed conned his way into your life, and tricked you into a deal you didn't agree to now seemed different to you, you can’t fathom how a man like that, a man so instilled in the traditions of this world once defied it. Steve had once been so in love he was ready to disown his father's own expectations of him, and yet in the end it had gotten her killed, and it had left him seated on the very throne he despised.

“We should probably head back, lord knows what Steve would say if he knew you were still here” Bucky replies, pulling out a cigarette from his suit breast pocket, and flicking open a metallic silver lighter encrusted with the Rogers family heirloom.

The amber light that ignites the bud elicits a strange feeling that litters goosebumps across your body, it reminds you of a burning photograph, left to ashes and soot. You can smell the stench of it too, and Bucky watches you carefully as he clasps the lighter back into his pocket, nodding to the trail you had just come from.

Your mind is too preoccupied to remember walking back to the Manor, or even sliding into the car door Bucky had opened for you. Your mind circled back and forth between the answers Bucky had muttered under the sweet wisp of the morning breeze and the millions of questions that were met with the same silence and face of neutrality that Steve wore.

There was so much that you didn’t know, it hadn't hit you before, but it was so frighteningly obvious now. You were still the same foolishly naive girl that you had been 10 years ago, except this time, if Bucky had been right, you weren't being robbed of your entire autonomy.

You couldn't deny that since you had arrived in Brooklyn, you felt a strange pull that led you to Steve, you felt it the first time he walked into the diner, and although it was crowded by fear then, you can feel it in all its entirety now. For some strange reason, you hoped what Rumlow had said was just another thread of lies he had made you unravel, you hoped to god for Steve’s sake that all it was, was a childish attempt at getting out of babysitting.

You had steered your mind clear from falling down the rabbit hole of what else it could be, and the sinking feeling that begins to unfurl in your stomach now has you pinching yourself awake, and forcing yourself to stare through the tinted car windows. You watch the blur of the pine trees crowding the curving roads and Bucky’s incessant tapping of the steering wheel over-stimulate your senses, resting your head on the window.

Perhaps Steve knew a thing or two about betrayal, and from the same man that had made you run halfway across the country.

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littlemissomega · 2 years

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Meeting the Coworkers Part 1

Warnings: smut, kinda threesome [steve doesnt really do anything] dom!steve x innocent!sub!reader x dom!peter parker, overstimulation, oral [f receiving], mention of oral m recieving, fingering, mention of virginity, degrading, squirting, overuse of the words 'whimpers' and 'chuckles' (yes that's a warning)

Summary: Steve has been clear about his polyamorous relationship with some of his coworkers since he started dating Y/N, but she never really wanted to meet any of them. Steve intrudices her to Peter first, and things get heated

Masterlist

"Are you sure you're ready for this, princess? Cause if not, we can always kick him out and-"

"Stevie," Y/N interrupts, "I-I'm ready! I want to…to try,"

"Okay, babygirl, let me call him in,"

Steve runs his hand up and down Y/N's soft thigh.

"Peter, you can come in now!" Steve calls.

Y/N's breath catches in her throat and she curls in closer to Steve when she sees him.

Steve and Y/n have been dating for a year and she's never been happier. Steve made sure she knew off the nst that he has in a polyamorous relationships with a few people he works with, but she should not feel pressured at all the become apart of it. So it had just been the two of them for a year.

But Y/N got increasingly more curious about that part of Steve's life.

"You remember Peter, dont you, princess?" Steve asks gently.

Y/N nods. She remembers the day she and Steve were out getting coffee and Peter just "happened' to be there. He made her even more curious. And a few other emotions she didn't quite understand.

He made her blood light on fire, just like Stevie does, which confused her. She didn't want to cheat on Steve, she loves him! One night, she confessed the feelings she had to Steve, and he just chucked and kissed her nose.

"Hi, darlin'! You look pretty today!" Peter smiles.

Y/N cheeks flush at the complement.

"T-thank you," she stutters.

"Awww she such a cutie, Steve! Can't even take a complement without blushing!"

"I know! She's my shy llittle baby," Steve chuckles.

Y/N blushes even harder and fiddles with the hem of her sundress. She's sitting on the bed between Steve's legs. She doesn't even hear Peter talking to her through her blushing. Peter sits down on the bed and gently grabs her chin, making her look up st him.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you, babygirl,"

Y/N let's out an involuntary whimper, causing both men to chuckle.

"What do you say when you understand, princess?" Steve asks.

"Yes, sir," Y/N responds.

"Good girl," steve whispers in her ear.

"You've got her trained right up, don't you?" Peter chuckles, "you wanna lay back, pretty girl?"

Y/N looks back at Steve and he nods. She scoots forward on the bed so she can lay back, making sure to hold the hem of her dress so it doesn't ride up. Steve positions her head in his lap and she looks up at him with wide, doe eyes.

"Are you sure you want this, bunny?" Steve asks one last time

"Uh huh!"

"Do you remember your safe word?"

"Red," Y/N nods.

"Good girl! You hear that, Peter?" Steve asks, looking up at his boyfriend, "she says red and you stop,"

"Sir yes sir," Peter chuckles.

"Daddy?" Y/N whispers.

"Yes, bunny?" Steve respinds.

"Is he gonna be gentle?"

"Even gentler than me" Steve chuckles.

"Can you h-hold my hand, Daddy?"

"Of course, pretty girl," Steve smiles, lacing his fingers with hers

Peter positions himself in front of Y/N's clamped shut thighs and grabs the hem of her dress; going to take it off.

"Wait," Yn interrupts, "C-can I keep it on? Just f-for now?"

"Of course, princess," Steve and Peter respond at the same time.

Y/N always been insecure about her body. She thinks she too short, and as Steve likes to call it, 'curvy'.

Peter flips the hem of her skirt up just so her white cotton panties show.

"You gott open your pretty thighs if you want me to do anythjng," Peter chuckles, gently rubbing her thighs.

Y/N lets out another whimper and hides her face in Steve's lap.

"Can I kiss you?" Peter asks, wanting yn to feel more comfortable.

Yn looks up at steve as if she's asking permission.

"Whatever you're comfortable with, bunny," Steve smiles, stroking her hair.

"Yes please," yn whispers.

Peter moves up so he's straggling yn and lowers his lips down to hers. He smells like peppermint and kisses her gently and reassuringly. It takes her breath away and went he pulls away and moves down to her neck, she's gasping.

"A-arent you gonna…give Stevie a kiss?" Yn asks quietly.

"Awww silly baby!" Steve chuckles, "always thinking 'bout her Daddy!"

Steve grabs Peter's chin and kisses him passionately. Yn whimpers at the heated sight above her.

"Good boy," Y/N hears Steve mumble into Peter's lips.

Steve pulls away from the kjss.

"Now get to work," Steve chuckles.

Peter kisses down yns neck and her eyes flutter closes.

"You're so beautiful," Peter mumbles.

Warmth blooms through y/n. Steve calls her beautiful every day, but it's weird hearing it from someone else. Nice, but weird.

"Thank y-you,"

"Oh such polite little baby! Did you Daddy teach you that?" Peter asks.

"Uh huh!" Yn nods.

"Now, be a good girl and open those pretty thigh," peter croons.

Yn buries her face back in Steve's lap as she slowly spreads her thighs. Peter settles between them and smirks at the little wet patch.

"I've surprised Steve doesn't have you in little lacy panties!" Peter chuckles.

"Daddy loves my pa- oooh," yns moan interrupts her and peter gently strocks her clit through her panties.

"So sensitive! Look at me," peter voices.

But y/n keeps her face hidden. Steve reaches down and spanks Yns thigh. She gasps and looks up at him in shcok.

"You know better! You've gonna give me a reputation of not knowing how to keep my little baby slut in line! Listen to Peter or else!" Steve snaps

"I'm sorry Daddy!" Y/n whimpers.

Y/n looks down at Peter and he keeps eye contact with her and he slowly tugs her panties down. She squirms under his intense gaze, but she doesn't look at. Yn doesnt want her Daddy to get mad again!

The cold air hits yns wet pussy and she gasps, attempting to close her legs, but Peter stops her.

"Fuck, what a pretty pussy!" Peter croons.

Y/n's face flushes even more.

Peter continues looking at her and he lowers his lips to her pussy and gives her clit a little kitten lick. Yn jolts and moans as Peter continues. Her toes curl and she clutches Steve's hand.

"Sweetest fucking pussy I've ever had," Peter mumbles into her, the vibrations jolting her core.

"Ngjjff Daddyyy," she moans.

"What, pumpkin? I'm not the one makes your pretty pussy feel good, Peter is!" Steve chuckles, leaning down to kiss her nose.

Yn states up at steve with wide eyes as Peter continued lightly lapping her clit. She squirms at the sensation. Warmth grows in yns core quickly.

"You know what she really likes?" Steve voices, turning his attention to Peter. He stops and looks up to listen, making yn whimper, "when you give her clit a little smack. I've made her cum before from just spanking her clit!"

"Oh really? What a naughty little slut!" Peter croons, smaking yns clit.

Yns back jolts off the bed and the tries moving away from peter to escape the sensation, but that just causes him to do it more.

"Sit still," Steve snaps.

"I'm sorry, Daddy, it's just-just nghfjfhf too much!" Yn blabbers.

"I've barely touched you!" Peter inserts.

He smacks her clit again before leaning down and plant a soft kiss. The kiss turns into sucking on it. Yn moans as she gets closer to her release.

"D-daddy I'm gonna cum! Can I please cum?"

"I'm not the one you need to ask, doll,"

Yn looks down at peter, her face bright red.

"Peter please," she whimpers.

"Please what?" Peter asks mockinglg, switching to rubbing circles on her clit.

"Peter please please please gonna cum oh please please can I cum, sir?" Yn babbles.

"Good girl. Cum for me, baby,"

Yn throws her head back and grips the sheets and fire corses through her vveins. peter gently works her through her orgasum. She bites down on her lip to try and muffle some of her moans.

But once yn starts to relax again, peter goes straight back to work. He goes to slip two fingers in, but then realizes y/n's sopping hole is far too tight for that. He's able to slip the tip on one in, but barely. He moves his mouth from her clit as she squirms uncomfortably from the stretch and sensitivity from her last orgasam.

"Fuck she's tigher than a virgin!" Peter coments.

"That's cause she is one!" Steve chuckles.

Peter looks up in shock.

"You haven't popped her cherry yet?"

"Nope! I've tried loads of times, but Daddy's fat cock is just too big for your little baby pussy, isn't it?" Steve asks yn.

"No wonder you're wound so tight when you come over! Wands couldn't walk for a week after y'alls last date! You've been using up all your self restraint here!"

Yn feels a pang of guilt. Is she hurting her Daddy? Is he bitter than he hasn't been able to 'pop her cherry's? She starts feeling even more guilty when Steve leans down and softly kisses her.

"I love you., baby bear. And I've already told you, we're taking this at tihr pass. So stop thinking about it!" Steve whispers getnly.

"Damn she's dripping down my wrist and I can barely get one finger in!" Peter voices, finally easing his finger in.

"Relax your pretty pussy, baby," Steve orders gently, "it'll feel better if you do,".

Yn sniffles as peter works his finger in and out of her, digging her nails into Steve's hand.

"I can see what you mean, man," peter starts, sliding his finger in and out slowly, "she'd probably suffocate your dick off if you tried to put it in!"

"Oh yeah! My little baby is just so much smaller than me! I've never been able to get more than two fingers in her pretty pussy, even after making her cum till she's dumb and with lube!" Steve explains.

"I can see why!"

"I've tried putting my cock in before, but I just can't make even the tip fit, and she cries so hard I just can't,"

"Daddyyy," Y/N whimpers, her face flaming red, "staph it!"

"Stop what?" Steve asks mockinglg.

Yn struggles to form words with Peter's finger in her pussy, and his thumb starting to rub circles on her swollen clit.

"Stop talking a-about putting…..you in m-me," yn stutters embarrassedly.

"Aww bunny! You had my cock in your mouth just this morning and can't even say the word!"

"Daddy shhh!"

Y/n's thighs start quivering even more as another climax builds.

"Do I need to put my cock back in your mouth so maybe you remember to word?" Steve asks.

Yn jumps at the idea and crans her head back furture.

"Uh huh uh huh uh huh! Please Daddy, I'll be good! Wanna make you feel good Daddy!" Yn responds excitedly but yet still so innocently.

"Oh I was just messing with you, baby bunny! Right now is just about you and making your pretty pussy feel good.

Yns face drops and eter chuckles into her pusy, making her moan.

"B-but Daddy I-" yn starts.

"Maybr if you're good, I'll let you suck on Daddys cock later," steve smirks, pating her cheek.

"Damn, Rogers, you've got her giving you blow jobs as a reward?"

"She's a Daddy's girl," steve ssmirks.

Peter startd sliding his finger in and out faster and yns pussy flutters around him more. Yn struggles to contain her sounds, and Peter and Steve can tell.

"Let me hear you, pretty girl," Peter orders.

"B-but-"

"Stop muffling your pretty moans or you won't be cumming for a month," Steve snaps.

Yns moans start bubbling over as the last of her pride finally melts awat. Her body ie on fire.

"Good girl," peter chuckles, "does that feel good?"

"Fuck fuck f-fuck feels s-jfkfjfhfj so good! Can I cum again, sir?" Yn blubbers himystrrically, her brain foggy with pleasure.

"What a dirty mouth! Cum for me, dirty girl," Peter responds.

"Look at him while you cum," Steve orders, moving yns head so she has to looking in Peter's eyes while she cums.

Yn moans and squirms and pants through her orgasm. Fire engulfs her belly and she squirts all over Peter's face. She has to request the urge to let her eyes flutter shut.

"Fuck shes a squirter?" Peter moans.

"Oh all the time! I'm surprised she didn't earlier! She must be dehydrated. Have you not been drinking enough water today, bug?" Steve asks.

Yn just whimpers, not able to form words after another intense climax. Peter keeps going at first, then he stops. Yn let's out a sigh of relief, knowing she'd be even more sensitive after that. Her eyes flutter shut and she relaxes against the mattress.

Then she feels the tip of something hard and warm against her puffy pussy lips and jumps. Peter slides is cock through her soaking, sensitive folds and yn lets out a strangled cry, looking up at Steve. He smirks at her.

"Daddy," she cries.

"What is it, bug?"

"Too mu-much! Too sensitive!"

Yns magic blocking bracket flows as it works to keep her powers from overtaking her. When she gets overwhelmed, it's hard for her to control her magic, which is why Steve had Bruce make her the bracelet.

"Take it like a good girl, bunny,"

Peter's rough jeans rub against her thighs and she lets a loud moan.

Yn feel so warm it's maddening, and she starts tugging on her dress.

"Off off off please, Daddy, want it off!" Yn cries, her voice muddles with pleasure.

"Okay, baby boo, one second," Steve smirks.

Steve pulls his girlfriend's dress off over her head and throws it off the bed. Yn feels Peter's cock get even harder as he looks up and down her body.

"Fuck, you really did get a good one, Rogers,"

"Damn right I did,"

Steve reaches down and runs Y/N's nipple through her bra.

"Can I take this off too, pumpkin?" Steve asks, tugging on her bra.

Yn can barely hear him with Peter grinding against her core, so she just nods. Steve quickly takes off her bra to reveal yns hard nipples.

"Oh bunny, you're gonna be the death of me," Steve moans, looking down at her fucking out face.

Steve pinches her nipples between his fingers and she whimpers, twitching from all the stimulation.

Yn orgasm builds so quickly it feels like a freight train about to hit.

"Fuck daddy fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fhck fuck," she babbles, "I can't cant cant too much ooh fhck,"

"Yes you can. Be a good girl and cum for Peter one more time,"

"Come on, pretty girl, I can feel you getting close. Cum all over my cock, honey," Peter moans.

Yn squirms everywhere, almost like she's trying to escape her orgasm, but she can't. It crashes into her and the whole world shatters.

Peter watches in awe as Yn cums, her face flushes red and sweat dripping down her body. Liquid squirts out onto Peter's abs, turning him on even more. He reaches up and runs the nipple Steve isn't. Her thigh quiver and her pussy flutters around him, drawing him closer to his orgasm.

"Where do you want me to cum?" He asks Steve, knowing yn is far too out of it to answer.

"On her stomach," Steve responds, pushing yns hair out of her face as she comes down from her orgasm.

Peter pulls his cock away from her dripping folds, causing a string of cum to string off. Her jerks off to the look of her fucked out face before letting it load out of her smooth stomach.

"Good boy," steve chuckles.

But Peter barely hears him, he's focused on check on yn.

Yn brain starts to clear as she comes up from her orgasm. Her eyes flutter open and she sees Peter and Steve looking down at her.

"Hey, pretty girl!" Peter smiles gently, "you did so good!"

"So good!" Steve repeats.

"Really?" Yn asks weakky.

"Really! You were so so perfect, baby! Daddy is so proud of you!" Steve smiles.

Yn flushes contently.

"Thank you, Daddy,"

"How are you feeling, angel?" Steve asks.

"Sleepy," Y/N mumbles contently.

"Go to sleep, honey," Steve tells her, "We'll get you cleaned up, pretty girl,"

Yn drifts in and out of consciousness while they clean her up.

Peter goes to clean up Y/N's stomach with a tissue, but Steve stops him.

"Can't let me pretty boy's cum go to waste!" Steve smirks, leaning down and starting to lick the cum off her stomach.

Yn squirms a little in her sleep, but doesnt stop him.

Once they finish cleaning her up, Peter and Steve snuggle up in bed next to Y/N. She's out cold.

"You did so good, honey," Steve tells Peter quietly.

"T-thank you"

"Not so confident now, are you? Now, you can let all that dominance go to your head, baby boy! Bucky will tear your ass up if you brat off to him again,"

"I know, sir, I wont," Peter nods.

Peter looks down at Y/N as she sleeps peacefully.

"She's a perfect match," peter comments, "I know the others are gonna love her so that won't be an issue. Do you think she'll agree?"

"Hopefully," Steve responds.

"So, who are you gonna introduce her to next?"

"Hmm maybe Wanda,"

Taglist:

@liidiaaag

@flourishandblotts-inc

@aagn360

@smromanoff

#smut #steve rogers smut #peter parker smut #tom holland smut #innocent!reader #innocence kink #virgin!reader x steve rogers #virgin!reader #overstimulation #tw overstimulation #badly written #Meeting the Coworkers by LittleMissOmega #peter parker x reader #dom!peter parker #dom!peter parker x reader #peter parker x reader smut

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marvelcriminalhoe · 1 year

Text

His Sinful Devotion

Older! Dark! Church guy! Steve Rogers x Innocent! Naive! Preachers daughter! Reader

Part 7 (The end)

Series masterlist

Warnings: Age gap (Reader is 20 - Steve is late 30s early 40s) , Dark, manipulation, dub con, Steve is hardcore manipulative (I’m serious), reader is hardcore innocent (I'm serious), Loss of virginity, talks of past dark acts, sexual acts on someone sleeping, P in V, Unprotected acts, Wrap it before you tap it, 18+ only.

AN: I haven't posted in awhile. Life has been hitting hard over here in the Mav Household. I’m not going to bore you with everything thats happened, just know I appreciate your support and understanding.

Warning: This might be a bit tamer than the other parts, but that's because they’re married and it's time for the fairytale happy ending... duh ;)

AN2: This is the big sha-bang. The moment you’ve all been waiting for. But that doesn’t mean that’s the end of the story with church guy Steve— don’t want to give a lot away— but with the hidden message in the ending I have a few ideas to do some au one shots with this story using this steve and a different reader, if others want that. This story was actually only ever meant to be a one shot but I’m a whore for praise and ended up doing all this for the people. I’m a hero.

Word Count: 1,595

Everything has to be perfect.

That’s what keeps going through Steve’s head. Everything needing to be perfect. For you. For him.

The wedding planning didn’t take too horribly long, considering Steve had everything set up the moment he set his sights on you, but he still had to go about it in a way that seemed normal. Which wasn’t too hard to do, considering you looked to him to do everything for you anyway, just like he taught you.

The time between getting engaged and the actual wedding day was only a month. Actually less than a month. 27 days in fact. But even then, it seemed like eternity to him. He was so close to his forbidden fruit, to stealing you away and living happily ever after with you. It just made the time seem to go by even slower.

But now, after 27 excruciating days, Steve stares at himself in the mirror, his hair perfectly styled, tux fit to the nines, straightening out his bowtie, and he can’t help but relish in the now. He’s finally getting what he deserves. After years of thinking maybe this wasn’t meant for him, maybe he wouldn't get his story book, white picket fence, ending, he's finally here, it’s finally his turn.

“You ready pal?” Bucky questions him from across the room, dressed similarly to Steve with the rest of his groomsmen, Sam, Tony, and Bruce.

Steve takes a breath, turns around, and smiles, “Absolutely.”

His friends, who know how long he has waited, cheer, and Sam speaks up next, “Everything set up with the house?”

“The realtor closed today.” Steve nods, “We’ll be moved in, in New York, the second we get back from our honeymoon.”

“That’s great man. We’ll be glad to finally have you back home.” Tony walks over and claps him on the shoulder. The rest of the men nod. All the men, outside of Bucky who is still in the beginning stages, has a woman of their own out in New York. All of them having the perfect life they deserve, and all of them happy another one of their friends is on that path as well.

When the wedding planner comes and knocks on the door, all the waiting comes to a head.

You're beautiful in your virgin white dress, the lace veil covering your face, as your father walks you down the aisle. Steve is even more sure you’re meant for him. Picture perfect, as if you came down from heaven just for him. The Lord molded you for him. His perfect girl. His entire devotion.

The moment he lifts the veil and see’s your face, he’s actually certain you did come from heaven. His own personal angel. And he swears to himself then that he wont ever worship anything more than he worships you. Just like he knows you’ll only ever worship him. Just as you've been molded to do.

The ceremony is traditional, per Steve’s request, but it’s also short and to the point. Steve’s waited long enough.

It seems like everything after the moment you are pronounced husband and wife is a blur. You don't remember walking back down the aisle, or taking pictures. You don’t remember greeting your guests, or cutting the cake, or the first dance. Honestly you don’t remember much of the reception at all. You don’t even really remember leaving it, the send off, or the drive to the hotel.

It’s like you don’t come back to your senses until the moment you are standing in front of the hotel suite door. Steve scoops you up in his arms, adamant on carrying you across the threshold.

The suite is huge. Everything is marble white with gold accents. The walkway to the bedroom is covered in rose petals that lead all the way to the bed, where they make a heart. Champagne and crystal glasses lay on the table across the room, along with chocolate covered fruit.

Steve gently sets you down in front of the bed, smiling down at you as he cups your cheeks, “My little wife.” He coos, leaning down to kiss your lips. The slow and gentleness only lasts a few seconds before Steve’s inhibitions come forward, the darkness within him that he’s only let slip in small amounts with you, seems to break through the cage completely. He’s been caged too long, held back too much, and the beast inside him finally comes forward.

It’s as if his entire being engulfs yours, his lips feasting upon yours as his claws tear away at your dress, allowing the tattered white shreds to fall away to the floor.

Your back hits the bed with more force than you were expecting and the small whimper that leaves you is swallowed by the monster above you. He relishes in the sounds of your trepidation, the wails of your hesitation, your pleads for him to slow, only further his desire.

Despite your fears, he knows you are feeling the same desire as him, the wet justices coating his fingers tells him as much. His lips descend down your neck to your perked breasts as his fingers open you up for him. It doesn't matter how many times he's fingered you, you’re still so tight, squeezing his fingers with a firm grip.

Even with the mad man inside him at the forefront, he still wants to be a good husband of you, wants to treat you right, shower you with so much love you don’t ever look for it outside of him. He want’s to give you so much pleasure.

It��s why he curls his fingers just so, hitting the point that makes your eyes roll back and your toes curl. It’s why he keeps the pace steady, allowing you to rut against his digits as he praises you over and over, letting you get to your peak.

“That’s it darling. Come for me. Come for your husband.”

“Such a good girl for me.”

“One more, give me one more.”

He wears you out on his fingers to the point you can’t even see straight, and when you’re chest is heaving, sweat coating your body, mind fuzzy, he stands, towering over you as he discards his own clothes.

He watches over you as he becomes just as bare as you. Watches the way your chest expands with each breath. The way you are practically glowing with the soft due on your skin. His cock is always hard for you, but right now, looking over you like this, knowing he gets to mark you as his forever, he's throbbing.

He wastes no time climbing back on top of you, shushing you as your weak please for reprieve reaches his ears, he knows you don’t mean it, not really. The feeling of your slick coating his cock as he slowly drags himself through your lips has him growling, and he’s glad he tired you out enough on his fingers so much because he knows the last of his patience withers away.

Sinking into you is like arriving home. He’s positive he’s never felt such a euphoric rush in his life. And again, he’s glad he’s already made sure you’ve cum more than once before claiming you, because he knows he’s not going to last long.

His thrusts are animalistic, his grip on your hips tight as he makes you meet his each thrust. Skin slapping against skin. Hard, fast, and bruising.

“My girl.” Steve moans from above you. All you can do is whimper and weakly moan, body too exhausted for anything else. “Only mine.”

The only thing on Steve’s mind is marking you up. He’s got your entire being as his. Your mind, Your heart, and now, he want’s the one last thing he deserves.

“Gonna cum inside you, honey.” Steve groans, hips continuing their assault on yours, “Over and over. Gonna fill you up with my seed. Mark your walls. Make you holy and completely mine.”

The image of you dripping with his cum, the whiteness running down your leg, mixing with the sweat coating your body makes him more feral than before, and it’s enough to have his eyes roll back and his cock twitch inside you. He swears he’s never cum harder in his life.

It’s exhilarating and blissful. Better than he imagined, and he imagined it a lot these past few months. He’s enamored by you. Completely and holy yours as you are his. His devotion is down right sinful, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

When he finally stops, he keeps himself inside you, knowing it’ll only be a few minutes before he’s ready to go again, and he peppers your face with kisses. Your body is so exhausted you’ve passed out, entirely spent, but that isn’t going to stop him from taking you again, and again, and again. Your his now and he can do as he pleases.

Not like that’s ever really stopped him before.

“My perfect little wife,” Steve caresses your cheeks, smiling down as he rubs his nose with yours. You’ve always been beautiful to him, but worn out on his cock, might be his favorite look yet, “We’ll be so happy together, I promise.” He vows, not for the first time today, that you both will have a happy life together. He knows you will. You’re perfect, better than the mistake he had before. You won’t do what she did. And he wont have to get rid of you like he did with her. No, this will be the happy ending he deserves. He knows it will. It has to be.

His devotions may be sinful, but what’s life without a little evil.

--------------

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sunflowerdarlingx · 2 years

Text

His Girl Chapter 1 - Steve Rogers

(18+)

Mob!Steve Rogers x Reader (Y/N and she/her pronouns used.

Warnings: alcohol consumption, smoking

Minors DNI

Introduction linked here / Chapter two

Steve was mesmerised by the girl beside him. She was breathtakingly beautiful. His eyes scanned over her body, taking in every ounce of her.

It is important to note that Steven Grant Rogers was not a relationship man - he didn’t even date. Ever since he lost his virginity, Steve found himself only ever engaging in casual sex. Normally with random women he met in his club or with associates who he could easily cut ties with.

You should also know that Steve was never one to chase. Women always came to him and some practically begged to spend just one night with the mobster. This was an easy lifestyle for Steve, fucking when he needed to fuck with no strings attached. He never called or text the women he had been with and he made it extremely clear every single time that one time sex was all he wanted. Never letting himself get too close, only ever knowing a woman’s name, age and, well that was pretty much it.

One might say that Steve Rogers has a fear of commitment. And you’d be right to think so. Steve knew he was involved in risky business and he never wanted to feel weak because of his feelings for another person. Weakness was not an option in the business he was involved in.

He didn’t want to revolve his life around someone else, never pictured himself settling down until years from now. He enjoyed the structure he had in his life, revolving his days around business, the gym and his friends. This meant Steve came across as heartless, his stone cold heart holding no true love for that one special person.

However, the girl next to him was the total opposite.

She was a hopeless romantic, often falling for the wrong men who would break her heart. She was kind, compassionate and always did her best to make her partner happy. She often gave relationships her all and after a few months she would be left heartbroken as she was dumped for someone new. She never understood what she did wrong. Re-playing every break-up in her mind when a new heartbreak presented itself.

She didn’t fear commitment in the way Steve did. She feared having her heart broken again. She feared trusting someone just for them to break it. She feared that she was no good.

Her friends often say that she’s too trusting, easy prey for egotistical men who need a boost. Her friends were right. Once again, two weeks ago, her heart was broken. Today (her graduation day) was the first time she had properly left the house in weeks. She felt a bit deflated this morning when her dress hugged her a bit more than normal but she was a comfort eater and she knew that a few extra pounds made no real difference. She didn’t care about the way her body looked - a few extra pounds serving as a reminder that she was fuleing her body with all of the nutrients it needed.

Y/n swore to her friends this morning that she was “never touching a man again”. She swore to celibacy.

She then swore that the next man who would feel her touch would be the one. The one she would spend the rest of her life with. Of course, her friends mocked her for the two statements that contradicted each other and all ended up in a fit of giggles at her frustrated pout.

_________________

As the night went on, the groups got to know each other more and soon a few of the girls joined the mobsters as they all arrived at Steve’s club. The three men sat in a private booth as they watched the girls dance.

It was weird, Steve felt drawn to the girl in front of him. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of the way her hips moved or the way her head tilted back when she giggled. Bucky smirked and elbowed Steve’s side when he caught her staring “careful punk, you’re drooling again”. Sam roared with laughter as Steve’s jaw clenched, his hand raising to give Bucky the middle finger. Steve watched her, his mind attempting to process how someone so innocent in their appearance could present themselves in such a seductive way. He couldn’t wait to have her in his bed.

As the night went on, the girls joined the men and Steve found himself outstretching his arm behind his fixation that he only met hours ago.

“I need a smoke” he announced and asked if Buck or Sam wanted to come but they were both occupied by Nat and Wanda.

Steve felt a tug on his jacket as he stood up, “I can come keep you company” y/n shouted over the booming music. Her bright eyes stared up at Steve and he gave her a nod before placing his hand on the small of her back as he guided her outside to the private smoking area.

He got a good look at her outside under the warm heat lights that surrounded the area. She had a tinge of pink to her cheeks and her eyes held a drunken haze as she stood in front of him. She was a great deal shorter than the 6’5 mobster and watched intently as Steve lit a cigarette.

“Want one sweetheart?” He held the carton open for her and popped one up for her to take. She shook her head shyly and Steve put them back into his jacket pocket.

“Are you having a goodnight?” Steve asked after a trail of smoke left his lips away from the girl in front of him.

“Oh it’s been great! Thank you so much for taking us here, it’s been so much fun” y/n giggled and beamed up at Steve with appreciation.

“You’re welcome any time sweetheart, I’ll make sure to add all of your names to the door in the future. No entry fee and no waiting in line” he winked and moved to sit down at one of the outdoor tables.

“Wow, that would be amazing! I definitely want to go out with the girls more over summer because once the school term starts I'll be snowed under”. Steve nodded understandingly and pulled out a seat for him to join her.

They engaged in more chit chat while Steve finished his cigarette. “Do you want to get out of here? I’ve got a meeting in the morning but wouldn’t mind some company for a night cap?”.

Steve watched as a look of contemplation took over her features. Normally y/n would have said yes, she would have jumped at the opportunity to go home with the handsome man in front of her but after her break up she wasn’t so sure if it was a good idea.

“C’mon sweetheart, it’s just a drink” Steve sent her a cheeky smile that had her melting and agreeing to a drink back at his. The pair headed back to the booth and gathered their things.

“Oh my goodness” Wanda giggled as y/n let the girls know where she was going, “this is exciting! He’s handsome” she winked as y/n blushed under the dark lights.

“What happened to ‘the next one to touch will be the one’ speech you gave us earlier!” Nat teased as she poked cheekily at the girl's side.

“It’s just a drink” y/n insisted, “and he said he would get a car to take me home when i’m ready. There will be no touching” she stated matter of factly. The girls both rolled their eyes and giggled when Steve came to whisk their friend away.

Steve guided y/n out of the club and into a blacked out jeep, Steve reached over to buckle Y/n into the seat and she blushed at the way his hand grazed over her chest as he pulled the seat belt over her.

“Safety first” he winked “take us to the apartment Scott”.

Chapter Two

#mob!steve rogers x innocent reader #mob!steve rogers series #mob!steve rogers x reader #mob!steve rogers smut #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers smut #steve rogers series

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holylulusworld · 2 years

Text

Two Kings (Arc 1)masterlist

Summary: You have fallen in love with the king of Brooklyn. When your wedding day arrives, there is much more to discover about the man you fell in love with than you thought...

Pairing: King!Steven Grant Rogers x Princess!Reader (later on Queen!Reader) ??? x Princess!Reader (later on Queen!Reader)

Warnings: angst, language, falling in love, mutual pining, royal au, innocent reader, fluff, lies, betrayal, smut, more to be added in later chapters

This series takes place in the Of Kings and Queens Arcs universe.

Two kings prologue

Two kings (1)

Two kings (2)

Two kings (3)

Two kings (4)

Two kings (5)

Two kings 6)

Two kings (7)

Two kings (7.5)

Two kings (8)

Two kings (9)

Two kings (10) FIN

Read more here: Arc 2

Divider by me *for my blog use only*

#king!steve x princess!reader #king!andy x princess!reader #steve rogers #andy barber #Two Kings masterlist #king!steve rogers x queen!reader #king!andy barber x queen!reader #polyamory #innocent reader

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huffelpuff210 · 6 months

Text

Only mine Part 2 Dark Professor Steve Rogers x Innocent reader

Only Mine Dark Professor Steve Rogers x Innocent Reader

Steve looked everywhere at this party, but found you no where, He decided to give up his search coming home disappointed and empty handed, The next day was spring break everyone leaving for home, or going on some sort of vacation, Steve was walking toward the coffee shop you frequented when he seen your room mate leaving the dorm, listening to the conversation.

“You sure y/n? I feel bad leaving you when you are battling a terrible cold.” She says holding the phone to her ear as she opens her car door throwing some of her stuff in the back of the car,

“Fine but if you get any worse see a doctor I would hate for you to die on me while I’m on vacation.” She chuckles getting in the car and starting it,

Steve grew concerned He looks at the dorm, He knew which dorm room was yours following you home a few nights ago, He knew this was his chance, tonight was when everyone was gone, and you were alone, He decided he would come back then, He already had the key to your dorm, All he had to do was take it from the office, He smirked knowing tonight was when he was going to get his girl.

You sat on the couch covered in a blanket, a tissue box on the nearby end table, you were too tired to even make yourself any sort of food, You were pretty sure you had the flu, You barley had any energy to even go to the bathroom, Your cough hurt extremely bad, You thought you were dying too tired to even move off the couch, the show you were watching you were barely paying attention,

You take some of the medicine to help you can feel yourself getting tired as your heavy eyelids slowly flutter shut,

The sound of your door shutting echoed in your ears but you could not bring yourself to open your eyes you just assumed that it was just Jessica coming back for something, but soon you felt someone stroke your cheek.

Steve slowly made his way through your dorm room finding you fast asleep on the couch, he rampaged through your dresser grabbing some of your clothes putting them in a bag, He walked over to you stroking your cheek with his knuckles,

“Don’t worry doll, I’ll take care of you..” He whispered

Scooping you up in his arms. carrying you out of your dorm,

Your heavy eyelids slowly flutter open, and You notice you are no longer on the couch in your dorm, You slowly sit up and notice the room was massive, the bed was huge, the room looked modern with gray walls, the sheets and bedding were white, the bed frame was a thick wood with bed posts,

The door opens revealing Professor Rogers with a tray of soup and a glass of orange juice. you were extremely confused.

“Professor?” Your voice comes out raspy

“Please doll, call me Steve since we’re going to be spending some time together.” He says

He sets the tray on the top of a dresser, that looks like it was carved from a tree,

He sat on the edge of the bed, feeling your forehead, his hand cold to the touch,

“Still have a fever, I guess that’s what happens when you have no one to take care of you,” He says with a smile tucking some of your hair behind your ear.

You were confused,

“How did I get here?” You asked trying to get out of bed but he pushed you down

“I brought you here and you need to stay in bed.” He says

“Professor I need to get back home.” You say trying to get out of bed again But he quickly pushes you down again. But this time anger fills his eyes and he has you pinned down by your throat,

“You are going to listen to me doll or there are going to be consequences.” He says

You look up at him in horror, he is your professor, he was said to be a good guy retired hero, why was he doing this to you what had you done to be treated this way you didn’t understand it,

“Do you understand?’ He asked glaring down at you

You swallow the lump in your throat and nod slowly,

He smiled liking your answer

“That’s my good girl.” He says

You knew you couldn’t over power him, He was far stronger and bigger than you,

You were a petite thing, your dad and brothers always teased you for it, but you never really cared about it until now, he grabs the bowl of soup feeding you the soup, you ate most of it until you told him you were full, He handed you the Orange juice, you drank half a glass, until you started feeling drowsy your vision blurry,

“Get some rest doll, once you are better we will go over a few rules.” He says smiling down at you, you could barley lift your limbs, Steve lifted your legs putting them under the blankets, Kissing your forehead your heavy eyelids slowly fluttering shut,

Steve watched as you tried fighting sleep, but eventually gave in, He smiled at the thought of having you all to himself, all he had to do was rough you up a bit and you submitted to him, He knew you would be perfect for him,

He also knew you didn’t need to go to school anymore, He was going to take care of you, but being a few months shy of graduating he figured he would humor your family, knowing how a military family worked, he was going to have to humor them and let you at least graduate, that way he wouldn’t run into any problems, but after that, you were going to be his perfect wife weather you wanted that or not, and sure he was a bit older than you, but he didn’t care, you were perfect, it was hard to find a girl like you in this day and age and he sure as hell wasn’t about to let you go.

#dark avengers #mcu smut #dark alpha steve rogers x omega reader #avengers fic #dark professor steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #dark fic #dark steve x smut reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers #innocent reader #chris evans

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neonovember · 2 years

Text

Just like Business

Steve rogers mafia!au

summary: with the fate of the underworld on your shoulders, your attempt to keep a low profile fails and instead, you make a deal with the king of Brooklyn himself.

warnings: violence, regular smugular mob talk, mentions of domestic violence

a/n: sorry it took so long for chapter 3 to come out, school has been up my ass lately and I lost half my draft. (I’ve also changed Diore’s name to Clementine because I'm playing twd)

The taste of stale wood catches on your tongue as you nervously chew on the end of your pencil, the Diner is slow today, and you've found yourself in the corner of the kitchen, tenuous forms spread out in front of you. The slowed trickle of patrons coming through the familiar jingle of the doors gave you enough time to fill those papers out before the seats do.

Knees to your chest, you ponder over what to write on the clearly dotted line named “Next Of Kin”. You watch as a man dribbles coffee down his white shirt, failing to catch the drops with a damp napkin as your mind remains a blank deserted canvas. Truth be told you didn’t have anyone you could call in an emergency, it was a bitter pill to swallow, even more so than the pencil between your teeth.

Clem was spending her allotted days off with her niece, mentioning how her erratic sister had dropped her off last night. You understood complicated families more than anything, it was what you lived and breathed for the better part of your adult life, but it meant the hours at work would drag on even further. Clementine was able to keep your mind off of everything, your escape, your husband, that man, that goddamn number. Your entire life was a scattered map of holes and ink spills, and it seems to follow you even on this side of Brooklyn, where eyes were always trained on your own shoes and you learned to keep to yourself.

Any other day you would have called in sick, without Clementine to help push the metaphorical hand to tick past your 9-hour shift. But you couldn’t bare the thought of remaining in that 3-foot room isolated and just waiting to be attacked. Your mental state was as fragile as ever, and you felt even the slightest scare would send you spiralling.

The target on your back grew bigger and bigger each day that went by with the threat of that man’s promise looming over your head. The crumpled napkin remained on your bedside table since that night, and you made no move to initiate the call. His patience was wearing thin, this you knew, but you didn’t have the guts, even now, to face the reality of what you had done.

Leaving the line blank you quickly fill the rest of the form, trying to tear your mind from thinking too hard at the prospect of having no one to rely on. All that was on your mind at the moment was the prospect of a dry winter, with a heater that worked and walls that weren't covered in mould. You hope the council would take your concerns seriously now that you had gained some stability, even as small as it was.

The jingle of the doors finally dragged you from your crouched position, collecting your papers you quickly shoved them under the counter before brushing away any creases on your apron.

The figure had seated themselves towards the end of the diner booths, away from any clear windows where they could be easily seen. Grabbing a menu you made your way past the many vacant booths before finally reaching their table.

It was a man, fairly built, with dark black hair moused from the light shower outside, he wore a deep maroon coat eerily similar to the man from earlier that week. He had deep grey eyes which would have been overshadowed by the curls of his hair falling in front of his eyes if they weren't so intense. His features were distinctly masculine, outlined by a sharp jaw that was littered with stubble, and his arms were outstretched across the booth's couches.

Transfixed by his features you had almost forgotten the menu between your fingers which was scarily close to slipping, he cleared his throat expectantly and you quickly placed the menu on the table.

“You got a staring problem or somthin?” The deep Brooklyn accent drew out as he enanuctaited his words, a smirk breaking through his stoic features but not quite reaching his eyes.

You swallowed thickly, looking down and attempting to avoid his grey orbs which seemed to remain at your face, he had a look like he was dissecting you, cutting you apart and looking into your soul.

“No-, No of course not, sorry. Uh, what would you like?” You choked out quickly, and you gripped your apron as he took notice of your apprehension. he could smell your fear, you could feel it.

He chuckles audibly, the sound sort of muffled behind it’s falsity. A relaxed expresiones seemed to ease the calculating look on his face just moments ago, as if he’s come to a conclusion.

“Your ma never taught you some manners?” He continues, this time however, his eyes are trained on the menu items, seeming to peruse through them thoroughly.

Your mother.

The thought of her and any expectant of motherly duties made you audibly laugh, causing the man to look up, eyebrows quirking at the chuckle leaving your mouth.

You cough quickly, attempting to hide your sudden outburst. It was just, there were a lot of words you could call that person, but a mother? That certainly wasn’t one of them.

You’d soon see hell freeze over before she’s ever act like a mother towards you, whilst your friends and classmates were taught how to braid their hair, or tie their shoes, or ride a bike, your mother, she, was out in the alleyways and prisms of her addiction.

You’d need a pick axe to get through the stone face she morphed into each time she walked through your childhood home. She wasn’t absent, always somewhere, she was just expression less. Like you’d drawn her with a broke crayon and coloured her outside the lines.

Shaking yourself from your past, the man’s eyes are fixed on you, confusion swirling through those grey orbs, before his lips lifted in a small smile.

Why did he look almost apologetic? You already had one strange man after you, did this god want to grant you with another?

“Coffee, black”. Said the man, folding the menu closed that was opened on desserts of the day.

You nodded, taking the menu from his grasp, before turning back towards the kitchen, the squeak of your trainers against the linemen floor.

Funny, he looked through the entire menu only to order a plain coffee, black at that. You’d hardly seen that order in a while, the iced latte-frappe-mocha obsession had taken over even the tiny diners like this one.

Another thing that’s seemed to change this week.

Making you way back to the kitchen, you quickly begin making his coffee. You weren’t particularly specialised at the art of making coffees, however his order seemed fairly straightforward.

Plus without Clem on today the diner was even more short staffed, and completing multiple jobs was expected.

Mind miles away, you almost spill the coffee grounds as you tamp them into the portafilter, attempting to replicate the steps you’ve seen Clementine do a thousand times.

Setting the espresso machine to brew, your able to shift your eyes towards the man in the corner, who’s now pulled out a silver phone and seemed to be in a heated conversation.

You knew that it was wrong to eavesdrop but god your brain would explode if you kept at this repeative mundanity of watching cars splash water violently against the diners windows.

You catch a couple words being exchanged, as the man roughly pushes his strands back into the low bun sitting low on his head.

“Steve, cmon, ya sure it’s her?,

“She don’t look like it that’s for sure”

“Robinson waiting on a package so I can’t stay long-, okay yeah, yeah I hear you, ya big head, don’t need to yell damn.” Mumbled the man exasperated.

He muffled his words into the cellphone as if he could tell you were eavesdropping and you quickly look away when you see him shift in his seat.

The espresso beeped as you pull the shot from under the machine, pouring it into a mug as you add 2 heaped teaspoons of sugar.

Stirring slowly you chance a glance from under hooded eyes, and expecting his broad shoulder and back towards you, instead his turned his shoulder, eyes staring directly toward you.

Taken back you shift your eyes back to the mug, fingers gripping the teaspoon tight as a attempt to pretend that he hasn’t unnerved

It seems to fail as the next time you look up his grinning, phone still pressed to his ear as he nods along with whatever they’re saying.

You question whether to bring it to him, the coffee, and just ask one of your other co workers, but you’ve already gone this far. Waitressing practically came with the packaged deal of sleazy men who couldn’t take a hint, it was depressing but you’ve gotten used to people disregarding your boundaries. You wouldn’t let some creepy yet incredibly attractive man scare you away from doing your job.

Appearing at the booth in almost an instant you place the ceramic mug infront of him. Murmuring his coffee, and not letting a second past before you attempt to escape, shoes squeaking at your hurry.

“Excuse me, Mrs” The man’s Brooklyn draw calls you however, the politeness falling from his red lips before he can help it. You freeze under the formality, fingernails digging into your palms.

Mrs? Mrs. You almost forgot that you were still a married women, it was something you kept hidden for a reason, the encrusted ring was hopefully rotting at the bottom of the hudsen.

And that was it, here, in Brooklyn, no one, no one knew you were with someone much less married, and yet this random man, who wasn’t quite a stranger knew. Hell he called you Mrs loud enough for the entire diner to hear.

To say you were shitting yourself was an understatement.

“Would you prefer ma’am, I hardly know these days” Chuckled the man unfazed by your trepidation, this was a sick game to him.

“How about you sit down and have a chat with me? Just 5 minutes of your time, all I’m asking” The man sing songs, acting as if he were pleading with you, however you noticed the demand laced under his tone. You understood a demand when you heard it.

Your back is still towards him, and your eyes shift to the diner door to the right, and, just as quickly the man reminds you of his loyalty.

“Look doll, I don’t wanna have to go to more extreme measures to find you again, so just sit down here with me before we both do something we regret” The man really pleads this time, he seems exhausted, like he really did look under every hole in New York.

You are are still fixated on the diner door, the paint chipping from its sides, and a dirty brown appearing at the foot of it from the rain coming through the sewers and onto the footpaths. You gulp down the crawling bile rising from your stomach before slowly turning around, each step causing a small breathe to escape from your chest.

You slide into the booth just as the man reaches for his cup, sipping it slowly as he eyes to intensely.

“Atta girl, now was that so hard?” He finally replies, grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

Your hands, you don’t know what to do with them, they’ve begun to dig painfully into your palm and you quickly shove them under the table when they begin to shake.

The man watches them carefully, his brows furrowing in confusion as if he didn’t expect you to be so goddamn meek and weak.

God. You’re so fucking weak it’s pitiful

“Look, I’m not going to keep you long, alright? I personally don’t like dragging out a girl like this but orders are orders ya know?” The man rambles, not waiting for you to answer him before he continues.

His eyes shift back and forth, down the diner aisles and across the vacant seats, he leans in, and from a distance it looks as if you two are both lovers on a night out. Huddled against each other from the harsh downpour outside and warmed the the love in the air and the longing in your eyes. The soft glow of the ceiling above casting a eerie romantic feel similar to days before.

“He knows your avoiding him, and in all honesty, this is the longest his gone before going out himself and getting what he wants” The man replies, dark greys watching your slumped posture against the booth coaches.

You’d hoped he’d just given up, the hours going by as you waited for your doors to come slamming down but it never did. It was stupid, you knew this, you didn’t get lucky in this world, but a small part of you had hoped so hard that he just saw you for what you always were; ordinary. Mundane and colloquial, the blurry face in a crowd, the person you always forgot and the name you never quite remembered.

You chest cave in at the truth of the reality you were forced into, you didn’t even care at this point, as your exhausted body rested against the booth, fingers rubbing your tired eyelids.

“What does he even want with me? I don’t know who you are, but you look like your smart enough to know how utterly useless I would be to whatever plan hes drawn up”. You reply

“I don’t even know anything about..about..that world!” you gulp as he looks towards you expectantly. You don’t even know what to call it, the underworld? The mafia? Criminal organisations? Which one would least likely get you killed?

“He kept me out of pretty much all of it, okay? He never let me enter even parts of the house to keep me ignorant and obedient. Couldn’t let the wife know about the 17 year old boy I tossed into the sewers right? Isn’t that what you men do?” You reply heated, spitting the accusation in disgust.

Your words don’t faze the man, and it’s then down you consider what he must’ve already heard and seen a hundred times, this was normal to them, this was life to them, this was making a black coffee to them.

“His not gonna hurt you, if that’s what your scared o-“ The man says, and you cut him off quickly

“Oh trust me, getting hurt is the least of my worries, I’ve gotten a lot of practice” You laugh morbidly, as he looks at you strangely, his eyes peek at the healing bruises on your arm and you tough your sweater down self consciously.

“I don’t doubt it, Matthews is ruthless, and I’ve got to hand it to you, your a real fucking smart one for being able to escape him of all people. But let’s me realistic here, you and i both know what this world is like, sure you’ve made it out, but how long do you really thing you’ll be able to be ahead, to keep up with this on the run shit?” The man reasons, adding more sugar packets to his coffee, before stirring it slowly.

You remain silent as you take in his reasoning, he’s not wrong, soon or later you’d burn out and do something stupid and get caught. You were born in the suburbs for fucks sake, you weren’t some Russian spy.

“All I’m saying is that Matthews is pretty fucking powerful, the type of power where he can get your friends and boss here to offer you up to him on a silver plate. There’s no loyalty when you’re living pay check my pay check, or when you’ve got to put food on the table. The only loyalty then is one written in blood, or bank checks” The man says, winking at the last part.

“We can help, keep him off your scent for a while, until you can get out of here at least” the man says gesturing around the diner and the City itself.

That was the ultimate plan though wasn’t it? To get out of America? Maybe move to a tropical climate where your skin met the warm sun instead of bloody fists. Something was keeping you here, and you spent years trying to understand what.

“By protection you mean surveillance that goes over every single human boundary ever created” You grumbled hands now crossed against your chest.

The man nods honestly,

“More or less, at least then you’ll get some sleep” The man replies, pointing out the bags hanging under your eyes.

“Well how am I supposed to do that when I’ve got him watching me every single minute of the day” You snap, before your eyes widen in shock. You didn’t meant to get angry, least of all at the man who probably has a pistol between in his waistband.

You wait for the man to scream, to feel his rough fingers around your throat, or the bruising force of his fists. It never comes, instead he laughs, fucking laughs.

It’s authentic, the way the baritone sounds leaves his chest ceremoniously, a hand gripping his chest and his curls fall in front of his face at his movements.

It’s beautiful and from the moment it leaves his mouth you love it. But he laughs, the most innocent thing in the entire world and you flinch. You fucking flinch.

You already know he notices it as he stops his chuckles, hands coming to press against his brows, and running down his scalp to brush his strands back.

“He’s coming, later on, to pick you up and take you back to your apartment, don’t fight me on it or else it’s my ass on the line” The man finalises, before reaching out with an expectant hand.

“Pleasure doing business with you..?” He says expectantly

You mumble your name tiredly and you grip his hand, shaking it.

“Bucky” The man’s nods, before getting up from the booth.

“Your got to be something to have Steve acting like this, and for your sake, youd better hope it’s fucking spectacular” The man says, before shelving over a couple dollar bills.

“Keep the change” The man calls before exiting through the diner doors, engulfed by the darkness cloud of fog and rain, the cool city air escaping into the warm diner behind him.

You look down at the coffee mug sitting like warm across from you, still filled to the brim and left un drunken, the only indication of his presence.

You sigh as you get up from your seated the position, the booth warm from your time spent talking. You look towards the clock, signalling you’ve spent well over 30 minutes with the man, and you turn to expect your manager tumbling down the isles to find you and demand answers to your absence.

But instead, her head is down, the deep auburn braids peeking from under the counter. Weird, she’s never not taken up the chance to berate your very presence, and instead she’a jotting down inventory records.

You don’t want to believe it but you know it’s connected to the man that was just here moments ago, or more specifically the man from earlier this week.

Collecting the bills left on the table, you place them into the cash register, before going to clear away his plates. This was going to be a long night.

You try not to notice the headlights shining through the blinds of the diner windows, or even the roar of an engine pulling up onto the front of the restaurant as you jot down the last of the young man’s order.

You were just about to close when a group of drunken but good natured college boys walked, or more like stumbled in.

You weren’t mad in any way, at least it gave your mind something to occupy itself with instead of conversation between you and Bucky from earlier.

Yelling the orders at Daniel, his brown hair bobbing to his stereo, your met with his thumbs up popping out of the bustling kitchen. You giggle to yourself at his antics, if you had to rely on one thing of normalcy in your life it was Daniel.

The familiar jingle of the diner door has you bristling, the note of between your hands crinkle as your hands grip them anxiously. You don’t know why your scared, it isn’t like you hadn’t been warned.

The man loud steps seem to purposeful against the floor of the crumbling diner, he’s incredibly out of place against the old fashioned terriselss and red and white booths. Even the drunken crows notices him, eyes surveying his expensive coat and shiny boots, before quickly looking away as the catch glimpses of his rings and blond tussles.

You pretend to occupy yourself with refilling straw and napkin dispensers, wiping down the tables that were already shining and keeping your head and most importantly your eyes, away from the tall brooding man.

You catch the front of his dress shoes pointed towards your crouched frame over the diner table. He clears his throat loudly when he notices you make no move to acknowledge his present.

“You’re a tough girl to catch aren’t you?” Is the first thing the man says in that deep gruff voice of his. His words seem sweetened like he’s said them behind a smile.

“No, not at all, I’m just..busy” You reply, leaning over further to wipe the cloth against the sides of the booth.

Steve hums, hands stuffed into his suit pants as he watches you carefully

“You sure? From where I’m at it seems like you’re..avoiding me” Steve says

“Well it’s kind of hard to get the courage to phone up a likley criminal mastermind that probably has connections to my husband and who would undoubtedly deliver me to him if given the right number.” You reply hastily.

Steve moves quickly to catch your hands, stopping your movements as he turns you towards his towering figure looming over you.

“I wouldn’t do that, I wouldn’t ever hurt you, you have to trust me” Steve says, a strange look you can’t place takes over his features, the frost behind his blues melt a little and his jaw relaxes before it leaves just as quickly. A hardened expression resting on his face again, and Steve drops your hands, where they rest folded at your stomach.

“How can I?, I’m sorry but I don’t even know you, and if I let another man take me, I’ll, I won’t ever forgive myself” You bristle.

Steve looks far off, blue orbs darkening at your candor as he watches the lights of cars flash against the frosted windows.

“Just let me help you, I’m sure Bucky told you why I’m here, and I’ve gone to lengths I can’t even mention to even speak to you” Steve says

“Why? I’m not special, I just don’t understand why someone like you would do with the likes of me” You reply exasperated, flinching as a David calls the order out.

“I have my reasons, reasons I can’t say right now but can only be explained if you let me take you home” Steve murmurs, you noticed a concerned look take over his features for a second, before the seriousness of this “deal” remains.

“And only if I accept your help” You say, you knew this world through and through, everything had a “but” and a catch. This wouldn’t be any different, would it?

Steve nods honestly, and you turn to throw the dirty wash cloth into the basin behind the counter.

“ I ain’t got long doll, let’s get going” Steve replies impatiently, you understood from your conversation with Bucky earlier that Steve was a man that always got what he wanted. There was little room for negotiation with the blond but you would be damned to make Daniel walk the plate he’d just slaved over to the crowd of huddled 21 year olds.

“Let me finish this order will you? If I’m getting into an unmarked vehicle to lead to my possible death, atleast let me get some good tips” You reply, and for the first time, Steve looks anywhere but you, noticing the huddle of hungry and slightly sober boys.

“Okay, okay” Steve replies acting defeated, as he sits on a barstool across from the counter. Eyes watching your mundane movements of service and food handling, and yet no saying a single word.

You juggle multiple plates, brushing off Steve’s attempts to help and successfully deliver them to the patrons, who gleefully thank you loudly. Slurring praises of Jesus, and Hallelujah, as they shovel waffles and fried chicken into their mouths.

Drunk college boys, either your best or worst nightmare.

Steve doesn’t let you clear their plates as he stands expectantly, you catch his eyes blaring into your manager from the corner of your peripheral. His face hardens into something like stone, and it’s as if his exchanged something without saying a word.

Your manager nods, walking back into the office, your bag is waiting for you on the counter and you reach for it before Steve is grabbing it instead. A hand coming up to silence your protests.

You follow his foot steps without a word, eyes looking back at your manager who’s staring right at you, a grim look on a face that screams pity. Like watching a lamb being carried to the slaughter, or more like willingly walking in.

You don’t know what Steve has told her, or not told her, but it seems he has more power than you first realised, your boss never let you off early, sure she’s let you take a day off but leaving early? Never. You’d had to be bent of and heaving before she’s pay you for half the shift.

It scares you, you don’t quite know what your walking into following this man, the the truth of its danger follows you like a shadow, every step pressed into the floor by blood and crime is a step you fall into.

You’re staining yourself with whatever it is he is knee deep in, even if you don’t want to believe it.

Steve opens the diner doors gently, letting you pass his chest, as he flips the open side the opposite side. A sleek black car comes into view on the sidewalk, it’s branded with a logo you don’t recognise but you understand it’s expensive, the kind of car where they give you shampgane when you buy it.

You don’t know why but you don’t see Steve as a man who would willingly drink champagne, the image of him holding a flute has you fighting back giggles, no, he was most defiantly the time to like bourbon or some other old fashioned liquor.

Opening the passenger door, you take a moment to look back at the diner, the low warm lights giving it a sense of home that you never found at your apartment. The crowd of boys are now singing unabashedly, stale and oily fries left on messy plates.

You hated it but it was the best thing that ever happened to you..since, well, since forever. It was gruelling and tough and not half the amount of work it took but it was yours wasn’t it? It was something you earned and kept only for you, that pay check was written in your name, not your mothers, not your husbands, yours.

Atleast you got a taste of what freedom would be like, a small glimmer of what you could’ve been if happened, hadn’t.

The inside of Steve’s car is even more opulent than its exterior, blue lighting outlining the inside of the car, and tinted windows hiding you from view.

“As much as you think you useless and naive to the word, the truth is, you're the closest thing to Richedson in his life, not his right-hand man, not his best friend, not me, you. Hell, practically half the underworld didn't even know he was married for the better part of 2 years”. Steve murmurs, one hand on the steering wheel whilst the other lay rested on his thigh.

“He was embarrassed by me” You shrugged, it was the truth, even Steve knew it.

“No, I don't think so, I think he was scared that you would get hurt” Steve replies, eyes remaining on the gravel road as he followed the route to your apartment like the back of his head. It should scare you, but it doesn't, and that, that scares you.

“He couldn't care less of me, much less try and protect me from the world he married me into. Besides, whatever cruelty he tried to shield me from, he already exposed me to it himself” You reply hastily, turning your body so that you faced the door, eyes boring into the concrete sky scrapes flashing mirages against the tinted windows.

As if sensing your apprehension, Steves recognises to drop it and instead tries to tell you the reasons from earlier.

“The throne your husband sits on grants him a lot of power, enough to have half of New York at their knees. And with him as unstable as he is, it would lead to more people getting hurt, and most importantly this realm, this life, ripped open for the world to see” Steve says

“He's always been unstable, you of all people should know that” You reply, scoffing. The cracks in your husband's mind enable him to get to where he was today, it enabled him to look past the shackles of morality that kept so many from reaching their full potential as he would say.

“Not like this, no not the way he's behaving now, there's traditions and sacrifices you have to make to survive in this life, that I understand, but the cracks that have always been in him are starting to show, they're starting to crumble the things me and so man other people have built. He's going off the rails, and this time I don't think even you can reel him in” Steve reasons, turning into your apartment car pack with the palm of his hand in one swift turn.

You bristle as that, your husband has always been off, you'd noticed it the first time and you'd accepted it the last, but at least he was always predictable with the lengths he would go to for more power, more authority, more money.

“You're saying the killings could get worse? The blood? The death? You're saying he could get worse?” You say exasperated, your eyebrows furrow as you wait for Steve to reply. You didn't think he could get worse.

Running a hand down his face, Steve roughly pulls his strands back behind his ears before choosing his words carefully.

“I can't say much that won't get you killed, but he's spiralling, and he’s going to take us all down with him unless we do something unless you do something”. Steve says, pushing the hand break up as he turns to you.

You shut your eyes, squeezing them as you slump against the leather seats. Your mind wrestled as it took in all of this, even now, you would never escape your husband? Wouldn't you? Did the fate of the underworld really rest on your shoulders? You want to say no, to jump out of the car and run back to the safety of your apartment but you can't stop the flashes of the 17-year-old boy whose screams still haunted you all these years later. He would've been 21 now, likely to have walked into your diner with those boys from earlier, and most importantly alive, not buried in a shallow grave.

“Okay,” You mutter quietly, so quietly that if Steve didn't have those golden ears of his he would've missed it.

“Okay? You sure?” Steves asks again to make sure he's heard you correctly.

“Okay. Okay ill tell you what I know in exchange for protection. This is what it is right? Purely transactional?” You reply, expectantly.

Steve nods following your words, bringing his palm up to shake your own. It's surprisingly soft, his fingers, like the death and cruelty of his actions, haven't yet spoiled them.

“Just like a business” Steve mutters sparing a glance at you, the same strange expression from before, you both hold onto the grasp longer than a handshake should be. And you find yourself dropping it suddenly, before rubbing your hands against your thigh.

You reach behind the seats, grab your bag and reach for the car door, before Steve’s rough warning stops you, the deep don’t bounce off the car roof and jostles you in your sleep. You know he cants help it, but you catch glimpses of the mafia king just in that one word. You understand what he's able to to, what he's done to get here and most importantly what he’d do if you don't agree.

Steve walks around the car, before opening the door for you, you look down self-consciously.

“You know you don't have to do all that, open doors and stuff,” You say, following his steps to your apartment door.

You had never been the recipient of chivalry. You didn't get to experience the soft, innocent love everyone else did in high school, skipping straight into marriage with a mafia boss. It was pathetic now that you think about it, but you'd never been romanced, much less felt what love could be.

“I know,” Steve says, hands shoved into his pockets, but you don't let him finish speaking before you continue your heated ramble.

“I mean it, I'm not some prissy princess who needs to have her hand held every minute,” You say, searching for your keys at the bottom of your bag, before struggling to open your door.

The lock always seemed to jam wherever you tried to enter your apartment, to the point where you had to shoulder your way into your hallway to get in.

Steve reaches for the keys between your fingers, pushing it into the lock and opening the door with ease. His fingers didn't even seem to strain as slammed the door against your wall.

Looking up through hooded eyes, you catch his blues darken as he looks down, your face chest centimetres away from his chest,

“I know, trust me doll, I know” He whispers to you, and you have to pull your eyes away before moving past him, plopping your belongings onto your velvet couch.

Steve leans against the door frame, his tall length seems almost comical compared to the height of your living space, you were sure he'd have to duck to even enter.

You don't want him to enter, do you?

“Just get some sleep, ill swing by later to iron out the formalities” Steve replies, watching you carefully.

Stepping out of your high heels, you snort, calling loudly with your back to him

“Just like business!” You say with your back to him, untying your apron covered in oil and spills.

Steve smiles, amusement lighting up his features as he nods, leaning against the door

“Just like business” He mutters, before shutting the door, and making his way down the crumbling concrete steps.

He steps into the sleek black vehicle that looks out of place against the beat-up Toyota Camry that’s never left, and the busted bike with stolen tires.

You don't notice, but Steve only pulls out when he's sure you've done exactly what he's said, your figure behind pulled curtains scurrying around your room, causing a small smile to pull at his lips.

And he doesn't notice, or at least you think he doesn't, as you peer through yellow curtains, watching his car recede into the distance, the winter moon was now high in the sky, casting a light for his route as the engine of his car roared against the asphalt roads.

This was it, you'd just made a deal with the devil, and you were already elbows deep. You wonder which one would've killed you faster? Being on the run, or being tied up in his twisted games, falling into the depth of Steve Rogers before it swallowed you whole.

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ronearoundblindly · 2 years

Note

This has steve and artist reader memes vibes

Oh my gawd HER FACE!!!

🤣

It's just magically naughty, and poor Steve would just be like "uh huh, that's beautiful shading, sweetheart."

#ro answers #steve rogers x artist!reader #poor innocent boy #he'll learn

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evansbby · 10 months

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧'𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dark!Steve Rogers x naive!Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: VERY DARK ELEMENTS, noncon, extremely rough smut, daddy kink, captain kink, age gap (Steve is very into the age gap), MAJOR size kink, no seriously Steve is HUGE, misogyny, loss of virginity, mentions of blood (heavy mentions), mean Steve (seriously, he has no soul and is very mean, honestly unhinged), anal play, oral (f receiving), innocence kink, naive reader, 18+ ONLY, NO MINORS. MINORS DNI.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Even Captain America deserves a reward after an intense, grueling mission.

𝐀/𝐍: Here we go! 16.3k words. Written very quickly. Not edited so please be forgiving. Also I don't have much knowledge on Shield and all that, so yeah! Final warning to PLEASE read the warnings! Anyways, enjoy!

“The girl’s ready, Captain.”

Steve nods at the SHIELD agent tersely, “She’s in my room?”

“Yes, sir. And all your specifications have been followed.”

“Good. You’re dismissed.”

The agent bows his head before leaving the office, and Steve finds himself pacing. He often paced after gruelling missions, as if trying to get all the leftover adrenaline out. Tonight had been particularly challenging; a local university under threat from HYDRA. Thousands of screaming staff and students, the air painted with gunshots and screams of chaos. But Steve’s team had come to the rescue. Just like they always did.

His team all had different ways of dealing with it, the trauma and evil they saw every day. Clint had his family to go home to, and some middle-of-nowhere farmhouse that Steve would’ve found quaint if he’d given more of a fuck. Tony’s solution was alcohol – copious amounts of it. And maybe that would’ve been Steve’s fate too, stumbling out of a bar at three in the morning having no idea where he was, but of course, he had the serum to thank for avoiding him that. Natasha immersed herself in her friends, Sam partied a lot, Bruce locked himself up in his lab because God knew he was wrestling more demons than anyone else. Except maybe Bucky… But even Bucky had a girl to help him cope.

That left Steve. But Steve had this.

I deserve this. He thinks it to himself as he makes his way out of his office and down the hall toward the elevator. There are SHIELD agents scattered here and there, chattering mindlessly about the successful mission and how, thanks to the Avengers, there were no civilian deaths. But they all hush when they see him, parting like the Red Sea, their heads bowed in respect as he walks past them. The Captain. The hero. Their leader. He’s still in his suit, the shield still on his back and bloodied cuts decorating his face. Nevertheless, he’s the face of the Avengers. Everyone in this building looks up to him.

Everyone on the face of this Earth looks up to him.

And a few minutes later, when he gets off the elevator and to his private floor, walks over to his bedroom door and opens it, he finds a large pair of eyes looking up at him too.

You jump, the fear on your face so evident that Steve can almost smell it. Standing in the corner of his room as if you want to permeate through the wall or maybe disappear altogether. Your arms hug your body in a bid to hide it from whoever you thought was going to enter this room, but you seem to relax once you see that it’s him.

“C-Captain, it’s you! Oh, thank God!” Your shoulders sag in relief, although – much to Steve’s displeasure – you continue to cover your body with your arms, “I-I don’t know what happened, but there’s some bad people here, and they took me while I was being evacuated from the university, a-and they brought me here and they wouldn’t answer my questions and–”

Steve frowns as you drone on and on, talking about a mile a minute – a quality he doesn’t particularly care for in a woman. But his eyes drink you nevertheless. You look young – a college student, no doubt – but he finds he doesn’t mind that. In fact, it makes his cock harden, seeing how wide-eyed and naïve you look, a lot younger than him. A pretty face, and an attractive body too despite the fact that you seemed hell bent on hiding it from him.

“Put your arms down by your side.” He commands you, watching closely as you stop mid-sentence, your voice trailing off. He can tell you’re uncomfortable, confused, and probably tired out from fighting and arguing with his agents. But he knows already what’s going through your mind: that you’ll obey because it’s Captain America, and Captain America was a hero who always meant well. Hesitantly, slowly, your arms fall down to your sides.

Steve had very specific tastes, and his agents knew to follow his instructions to a tee. Which was why you stood before him, your body sheathed in the prettiest, most expensive vintage lingerie. All lacy and intricate, just how Steve liked it – white and silky, hugging your body like a second skin and accentuating your curves, making you look like half angel, half seductress. He’d long ago, in a different lifetime, pored over old pin-up magazines, just like any other boy his age would. He’d likened the white lingerie in the pictures to be what his innocent bride would wear the night he deflowered her. Back in the forties, back when he’d been a different man, a man who actually cared about trivial things like marriage and family. Years of war and fighting had beaten that out of him.

And yet, almost a century later, Steve still has a partiality for white, lacy lingerie.

After every mission (successful or not) SHIELD would bring him a girl in vintage lingerie. Always an unsuspecting girl who had no idea what she was being pulled into. They came in all sorts of varieties; crying, kicking, screaming, paralysed in fear when they realised the reason they were in his bedroom. But Steve deserved it, for every single sacrifice he’d made for his country, for the world – he deserved this one bit of pleasure. Bucky had his girl, Sam had his parties, Tony had his alcohol, Bruce had his lab… And Steve had this.

And it was the least you could do, the least all those girls before you could do, because hadn’t Steve saved you? Saved all of you? This was his payment. You were his reward.

“C-Captain?” He notices how you can’t help but stutter, and he finds it amusing despite the fact that he’s used to having this effect on women – especially immature college girls like you. You gesture down to your body, “Th-This isn’t how I was dressed – they put me in this, those bad guys! N-Now I don’t know where my clothes are, and, and…”

Once more, your voice trails off as Steve walks past you nonchalantly. He heads to the bathroom, making sure to leave the door open so he can keep an eye on you lest you try to escape. Not that you’d get very far – this whole floor was his and every lock required his facial recognition to open. In the past, other girls had tried to escape, and sometimes Steve enjoyed the chase. But tonight, he felt tense. He’d wanted to capture all the HYDRA agents but two of them had escaped. To Steve, that was failure, and failure made him tense. Angry. Frustrated. He needed someone submissive, obedient, quiet…

“C-Captain, I’m gonna be okay, aren’t I?” You ask, voice high-pitched and shaky, and Steve almost smirks. He stands in front of the sink, surveying the scratches on his face. They’d heal overnight, and once more he’d be the perfect face of the Avengers. The face of America. The face of hope, the face of good. If only they knew what went on behind his eyes, the thoughts he thought, the darkness behind the façade.

He washes his hands, observing the blood as it swirls down the drain of the sink.

“Sir… Captain… Is there a way I could call my family? They’ll be worried about me, and those people took my phone so I don’t–”

“Get on the bed.”

“H-Huh?”

“Get on the bed. I won’t repeat myself.”

Steve’s voice is soft, levelled, yet commanding. And he knows you’ll listen. He’s been over this with so many of the other girls brought in for him as a post-mission reward. You still trust him, he can see it in your eyes. You know him as the superhero you see on TV, where he’s all clean-cut and politically correct as he commands the hearts of millions through his motivational speeches and actions. And by the looks of it, you’re so naïve that he knows you haven’t yet figured out what “get on the bed” truly infers to.

And so you do, gingerly settling down on the edge of his king-sized bed, shaking like a little leaf but he can tell that you’re trying to keep a brave face as you look up at him, determined to trust the super-soldier that the whole country trusted. And breaking that trust, breaking that spirit that shone in your innocent eyes, that was the sweet release he needed tonight, or any other night after each mission made him grow more disillusioned. Breaking your trust, breaking your body so all of this was worth it.

Sometimes, Steve wonders when exactly he had changed. He remembers how plucky and optimistic he used to be. A little bit sardonic, a little bit sarcastic, but he really did have a heart of gold – at least that’s what people told him. Even after they’d dug him out from that iceberg, he’d still been that same guy. But that was years ago, and each day he grew more disillusioned with what he preached, what he stood for. He could never settle, never feel like he fully belonged in the world he kept risking his life to save over and over again. Even Bucky, who’d gone through so much, had managed to find fulfilment through finding love.

Steve, on the other hand, doesn’t think love exists.

What does exist is you… Sweet, quivering, innocent little you. The SHIELD agents know his tastes down to a tee, and physically, you’re everything he likes, everything he prefers. It’s nights like these when Steve really feels alive, when he snuffs out the innocence of some unsuspecting girl and reaps his reward for saving countless lives. He deserves this. God knows he deserves this.

“What’re you doing?” You whisper, eyes round as saucers as he reaches out to stroke your hair. He bristles slightly, annoyed by your persistant questions. You should know better – he was your superior after all. But you’d learn by the time the night was over, and so Steve resumes petting you, slipping his hand down to rub your cheek, feel your smooth skin under the rough callouses of his hand.

The same hand that had choked two or three HYDRA bastards to death earlier tonight.

“You will address me as Captain.” He says, dismantling his shield from his back and placing it on the floor against the bed. He follows your gaze, how your mouth drops open in awe despite how scared you are. His cock hardens, knowing you’re impressed by him. By his size, because he’s aware he looks even bigger in person than on the news – enough girls have told him that. And by the shield too, because it reflected his power, his status, everything that he supposedly stood for.

You clear your throat nervously, “S-Sorry, uh, Captain, I just, uh, I was wondering when you’d take me home,” you say the last few words quickly, as if you’re mouth’s dry and you’re rushing to get all your words out. “I n-need to get home, my parents will be worried about me, Captain, and I have homework–”

Steve almost snorts at that. Homework. You were even more innocent than he thought you were, if one of your biggest concerns was whether you’d get your homework done or not. And this naivete amuses him, enamours him, but most importantly, it gets him hard.

“You’ll be taken home tomorrow.” He informs you, his tone clipped and formal, clinical like a doctor informing his patient when they’d be discharged. He liked to keep it like that between him and his “rewards.” Steve didn’t believe in intimacy, and didn’t feel the need to waste kindness on you or any of the previous girls. He faked kindness and heroic optimism all day, it was only at night in the privacy of his quarters that he could shed all that away and allow his darkness to take over.

“T-Tomorrow? Why? Why not tonight? And why am I here, anyways? Everyone else was evacuated together!”

“Enough.” He says sternly, and you shrink back like a chastised child, or an injured puppy. He watches your lower lip as it juts out, and he wonders if you’ve done that on purpose as a way to appease him. He wouldn’t fall for it though, he was wise to women and all their cheap tricks they used to wrap weaker, lesser men around their fingers. Steve would never be one of those men. “You will not speak unless I give you permission.”

Your lower lip quivers, “I don’t understand…”

He sits down next to you, acutely aware of how much bigger he is than you. Leisurely, his eyes drink in your body now that he’s much closer to you. The bra pushes your breasts upwards so they spill out attractively over the creamy white lace of the lingerie, and he watches them rise up and down as you breathe heavily, probably trying to keep yourself from crying. He wishes you would cry – tears have always turned him on. But the night is young, and he knows he’ll see some tears soon, he always does.

“C-Captain, please, please help me! I’m so confused and I don’t know what’s going on, and I don’t know how I got into this outfit, I think they drugged me, and I’m scared, and I have homework, and I gotta go now, so pl– OW!”

Steve yanks you forward by your hair, till your face is inches from his, and he can practically smell your fear. Eyes as big as saucers look up at him, shining bright with unshed tears of both fear and pain. He loosens his grip slightly, despite the fact he isn’t holding you too tightly – but the serum gives him inhumane strength, and you’re just a weak little girl after all.

“Once again, I’m telling you not to speak without permission. Do not make me repeat myself one more time.”

You swallow harshly, bowing your head once he lets go of your hair. But your lips are now pressed tightly together, as if you’re hoping he’ll take you home if you shut up and listen. There’s still light in your eyes, you’re beginning to question him inwardly but you still trust him, Steve knows you do. And it’s not long now before he crushes that trust completely.

He sighs at your compliance, stroking your quivering bare arm, thrill shooting straight down to his cock because of how soft and smooth you are. He likes the juxtaposition between the two of you right now: you, so soft and small, so much younger than him, like a doll in your pretty lingerie that he’d picked out. And him, more than double your size, jaded with age that didn’t physically show, bloodied and scratched suit, rough hands, dark thoughts.

“C-Captain, I’m scared,” you whisper, and you really do look like you’re about to wet yourself, and it turns him on so much that he doesn’t even bristle at you speaking out of turn again.

“Good.” He murmurs, continuing to stroke you like you’re his little doll. There’s something about you, something so pure that he can’t really put his finger on. In the past, he’s been detached, unforgiving, often just throwing his “reward” on the bed, holding her head down against the mattress while he fucked the living daylights out of her. He would be detached and cold with you too, but this time he feels a peculiar need to savour you at the same time.

It's when he grabs your hand and places it on his hard crotch that you start crying in earnest, finally realising your fate.

“What’re you– No, please, not that! Please, I don’t know what’s going on, Captain, please–”

You try to snatch your hand back, but he holds it steadily in place. You’d never be a match for his strength, no matter how hard you tried – he had more brute power in his pinkie finger than you did in your whole body. And that turns him on even more.

“You’ll go home tomorrow,” he repeats, not even sure why he’s explaining anything to you, because he usually doesn’t speak to the girls brought for him at all, let alone reassure them. “Tomorrow, you’ll see your family but tonight, your body is mine and I’ll do with it what I please.”

You look like you’ve seen a ghost, but quickly you shake your head, blinking rapidly as if you’ve misheard him. “N-No, Captain, I don’t want to! Y-You can’t make me,” you look at him pleadingly, trying to tug your hand back but he holds it firmly against his covered cock, “You won’t make me, will you, Captain? Th-That’s wrong! An’ you’re a good man so you’d never do that!”

“Take it out.”

A different man would have perhaps consoled you, told you it would all be over soon, or maybe even made up an excuse to manipulate you into sleeping with him. A better man would’ve taken pity on you, given you your clothes back and taken you home. But Steve wasn’t like any of those men. All Steve was right now was impatient, and more than ready for his reward. I deserve it, he thinks once more to himself, before pressing your small hand down on his crotch meaningfully.

“Take my dick out.” He repeats sternly, and when you still don’t comply (probably because you’re frozen in shock and fear) Steve can’t help but quickly undo his fly before pushing your hand down his suit pants, letting out a hiss when he feels your dainty palm and fingers on his rock-hard flesh.

“No, no, no, please no,” you cry softly, rivulets of tears streaking your face, “This is wrong, Captain, please.”

He makes you wrap your hand around his cock, smirking to himself when your fingers don’t even come close to wrapping around all the way. The serum had made him a lot bigger than average, and a lot thicker too. So much so that every time he had sex, no matter how much he stretched the girls out, there would always be blood. He’d grown to become turned on by the sight of it.

“I’ve seen you on TV,” you whisper desperately, and he knows you’re in that state of mind where you’re just so scared that you’ll say anything and everything, “I’ve seen how you are, a-and you’re supposed to be the good guy, Captain. Please, let me go, y-you’re a good man so please–”

“Shut up.” He says simply, making you take his dick out. That quietens you up for a second, and you gape at his huge dick as it slaps up against his abs which are still covered by the suit. He hasn’t had sex or jacked off in about a week now (missions, press conferences, community work and other bullshit had kept him busy) and his dick is almost angry hard, the veins so prominent as he throbs in your hand.

“Stroke it.” He instructs you.

You shake your head, hand limp around his hard cock, “You c-can’t, this is wrong.”

“Drop the coy act,” he orders you, feeling a surge of impatience when he’s tried to be level with you for so long, “I know what you kids watch these days on the internet, and all the vulgar movies on television. Now do what I fucking say, or else.”

You look both taken aback and hurt by his sharper tone, and immediately you’re shaking your head.

“N-No, Sir, please. I don’t watch any of that stuff, I’m not allowed to, okay? A-And this is wrong on so many levels, you’re meant to be a good guy!”

Steve finds his cock hardening even more when he hears how you’re not allowed to watch the vulgarity that’s become so normalised in the media now as compared to back in the day. Were you, perhaps, a girl with morals? Someone who was raised well? He had yet to run in to such a girl in the twenty-first century.

“I’ve seen you on the news,” you try again when he doesn’t speak, “you and the Avengers, you’ve saved c-countless people. You’ve won wars for us. I w-went to see you when you gave a talk at my school last year, the one about good versus evil. You’re an inspiration, Captain, you wouldn’t do this!”

You’re talking a mile a minute, and Steve knows you’re doing it to prolong time till your inevitable fate. He’s tortured enough men to know that goners loved to run their mouths. As for what you’re saying, it has zero effect on him. He didn’t believe in what he said, what he stood for – you could never use that to persuade him to take a higher road.

He starts moving your hand up and down on his dick, hissing again because of how pleasurable your dainty hand feels on his rock-hard length, not to mention how much it turns him on that you’re still trying to pull your hand away, looking anywhere but at his cock, embarrassment mixing with the bone-chilling fear on your face.

“Y-You’re not a good man!” you finally sob out, shaking from head to toe as realisation finally seeps through your head.

Your words bristle Steve for whatever reason. In the past, his “rewards” have often back-talked him, insulted him as if they thought their words would have any impact on him – which they never did. But seeing you, with your bright, optimistic eyes that clearly looked up to him up until this moment, hearing you call him a bad guy… It makes him feel defensive.

“I saved you.” He spits out, “HYDRA attacked your university and I saved you and all your little friends. You’d be dead if it weren’t for me.”

You nod desperately, “I-I know, Captain, that’s why I don’t understand why you’re doing thi–”

“I deserve this.” He says simply, cutting you off. “I risk my life to save unthankful people like you, over and over again. Even a super soldier deserves payment, or at least an incentive to do what I do.”

Your jaw drops open, speechless and horrified. Steve couldn’t care less, and he feels another wave of impatience. Two weeks ago, he’d endured a similarly gruelling mission, and his reward had been waiting for him in his room. She’d been mouthy, of course, as most women of the twenty-first century were, but he’d fucked her and sent her packing within fifteen minutes. So why, on this particular occasion, was he sitting here making idle chit-chat with some dumb-witted college girl who was half his age?

He's always been quick, and you yelp in surprise when he grabs you by the waist, his rough fingers digging into your soft skin. He drags you into his lap, till you’re crying on top of him, your back to his chest. You struggle and flail against him, but it’s to no avail as he presses you down on top of his thigh, spreading your legs and locking them with his own.

“Stop struggling,” he orders you through gritted teeth, although he has to admit that having a weak girl like you fighting against him with all her might while he held you down with just his one arm was quite arousing, “It’ll be easier for you if you just stay still.”

“Please don’t, I-I’m not ready for this, I’ve never done this before, I–”

Steve snorts at that. He knows you’re young, but he also knows that girls in this century are promiscuous, and that’s putting it kindly. How many lies would you tell before you realised they’d all be in vain? He was goddamned Captain America, and he was going to have his way with you tonight no matter what came out of that pretty, pouty mouth of yours.

Grabbing your soft, bare thighs with his hands, he pushes them further apart, all while you cry and quiver in his arms like a wounded animal. Your white, lacy panties hide your pussy from his greedy, impatient gaze, and he wants nothing more than to rip your lingerie apart and ravage you to soothe the ache of his hard cock which is currently pressing against your back.

“Push your panties aside.” He commands, “and don’t even think about arguing with me. One more word of insubordination out of you, and you don’t even want to know what I’ll do.”

You’re sobbing and sobbing as you gingerly do what he says, and he licks his lips when he sees your bare pussy, trussed out for him as he holds your legs apart. He can’t help but press a finger on your bundle of nerves before swiping downwards over your slit. He frowns. You’re not wet. That simply won’t do.

Of course, he’s been in this situation before. Not often, because truthfully, women got wet the second they looked at him, turned on by his size, his power, his authority. But sometimes, like now, when one of his “rewards” was very scared and non-compliant, she wouldn’t be wet. Steve didn’t care, and he’d go in dry if he could except, with the sheer size of his dick, it just wasn’t physically possible. Often, he’d tell the SHIELD agents to prep his rewards before they were sent to his room – stretch their pussies out by whatever means (he didn’t care) so long as they were able to take his girth.

But you… Oh, he reckons he’ll have fun with stretching you out all by himself.

“Touch yourself.” He says into your ear, holding you in place tightly.

“I…I…I don’t know how, I don’t– I don’t do this, I’ve never done this, I–”

There’s something about your frightened demeanour that makes him realise that maybe you’re not lying after all. He raises a brow, “You’ve never touched yourself?”

“N-No, Sir – I mean Captain – I’m not allowed to. My parents are very conservative, Sir, I haven’t even had my first kiss. Please don’t make me do this!”

Steve didn’t think it was possible for his dick to get any harder, but it does. So big and painfully hard, it presses against your back almost indecently as he licks his lips, now infinitely more interested in you. So you were a girl raised right in these godforsaken “modern” times. His mind conjures up different ways in which he could teach you, mould you, ruin you… He doesn’t remember the last time he had a virgin – it was probably back in the forties, back when women were pure and of good heart and good intentions.

Maybe tonight’s reward would be sweeter than any other.

He grabs your hand, pressing it against your petal-soft folds. He takes your pointer finger and slowly, gently, circles it around your clit. You fight against him but it only takes you a few seconds to realise that your efforts are completely futile. Steve does not care for what you want, not in the least. You’re his reward, and he deserves this.

He leaves your finger on your clit, shooting you a deathly look that conveys that you better keep circling it or else. His own eager fingers explore your core, slipping down to probe you, finding that not even one of his fingers fits inside your little fuckhole. In fact, he tries pushing his pinkie finger up inside but to no avail at all. Fuck. You weren’t lying – you were definitely a virgin. Another telltale sign is how it only takes a handful of seconds before your wetness begins to spread, and you whimper softly – probably at all the foreign sensations you’re feeling as Steve continues to probe your hole.

“Feels good, huh?” Steve hears himself say softly, and he doesn’t know why he’s bothering wasting words on you. He never spoke to any of his other rewards – they were only there for his pleasure, and may as well have been inanimate objects to him. Dolls brought in for him to use and then promptly taken away when he was done with them. But you? Fuck, Steve doesn’t know what’s come over him.

“I-It won’t fit, Captain, please stop,” you cry softly when he tries to force his finger into you again. You’re adequately wet now, but your pussy continues to reject his finger, and he knows there’s no way you’ll be able to take his dick if he doesn’t stretch you out with his fingers first.

“I’ll make it fit,” he mutters, throwing you aside on the bed and standing up quickly. He sucks his finger into his mouth, tasting your sweetness and shutting his eyes for a second to savour your taste. And then he shoots you a warning look, “Stay there.”

He smirks when you don’t move an inch – probably paralysed with fear – as he walks over to the dresser next to his bed. Rummaging through his drawers, he sorts past all the sex toys that some agent had probably stocked up inside. Steve didn’t have much use for them, as he considered himself too traditional for toys. But he can’t help but be turned on by the idea of using a large dildo on you, or stuffing your virgin ass with a cute plug. But for right now, he grabs the bottle of lube – it’s half empty because of how often he’s had to use it on his past partners. Since the serum, his dick was way too big to go in naturally, especially when it came to a sweet virgin like you.

Roughly, he pushes you down till your back is pressed against his king-sized mattress. He climbs on top of you, rolling his eyes at the fight left in you, how you flail and fight against him despite his body being more than twice your size. He uses his arm to hold you down, but truthfully, he could’ve done it with just his pinkie finger.

“Stay still,” he commands, pinning your limbs down flat against the bed. You resort to sniffling and crying silently, your wary eyes watching him as he spreads your legs as wide as they’ll go. A sudden feral urge takes over him, and he rips your panties in half, the flimsy material landing gracefully on his sheets. Your bare pussy glistens up at him, now wet with your sweet cream despite how much you continue to cry. He can smell your sexy aroma; the scent of a virgin pussy and it goes straight to his dick.

With an animalistic snarl, he dips his head down between your legs. Using two fingers to spread your creamy petals, he lays his tongue flat against your quivering fuckhole. You scream in shock, body jerking underneath him but he doesn’t care. He grips your thighs, lifting your ass and lower back up off the bed, watching carnally as your wetness drips down to between your ass crack. He spreads your cheeks, smirking when you wail in surprise. He digs his eager tongue between your cheeks, probing your puckered, virgin ass before licking a straight line all the way back up to your pussy, ending with a harsh suck on your clit as he holds your hands at bay.

It’s come out of nowhere, this sudden need to taste you. Back in the forties; Steve had rather enjoyed going down on women. He knew he was skilled at giving head, he’d been told more than enough times. But he can’t remember the last time he’d done it. Never with any of his “rewards,” who were only ever good for fucking on their hands and knees like dogs. But you, you were different.

You wiggle, crying and begging him to let go of you but you may as well be a fly with how weak and inconsequential your pleas are to his ears. Instead, he laps at your baby cunt like he’s starved. Like a starved caveman, he spits down on your clit, wanting to make your pureness as messy as possible. He spreads his saliva all over your core with his fingers, marking you up with his DNA. He encases your now engorged bundle of nerves between his lips once more, giving it another hard suck but this time his teeth graze against it.

“C-Captain, oh-oh my God–Ah!”

It’s when Steve finally forces his one finger inside you that you squirt, drenching his digit as your walls clamp down around it. And God-fucking-dammit, he can’t believe how tight you’re squeezing his one singular finger, how tight and sexy and soft you feel around it. How your slippery walls pulsate around his digit like you’ve never cum before in your life – which would explain how quickly you’ve come undone. Some of your wetness lands on his face, some of it on the sheets beneath you, and that’s when Steve realises he’s given a virgin her first orgasm.

He can’t help but smirk, his finger still lodged inside you, but not even halfway because you’re still so fucking tight.

“Doesn’t seem like you want me to stop after all, sweetheart.” He says, not realising he’s used the pet-name on you until it’s already out of his mouth. He sets the lower half of your body back down on the bed, his finger still inside you.

You sniffle as your whole body shakes with the remnants of your orgasm, “P-Please,” you say faintly, and you can’t even raise your head to look down at him, “Please, can I go home now?”

Steve’s lip curls into a snarl, and he drives his finger inside you with renewed force, curving it upwards even when he feels resistance. You scream bloody murder, and he knows if your orgasm hadn’t sapped all your energy, you’d be flailing your legs again. But for now, he easily holds you down, feeling your soft walls encase his finger which is now up to the hilt inside you. That’s when he grabs the bottle of lube, squirting out a generous amount onto the rest of his fingers.

“N-No, Captain, please, I can’t take another one, I can’t, I can’t!” You plead, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. “Captain – Steve – please listen to me, please, look, I can’t take another finger, pl–”

His palm lands on your clit with a wet smacking sound, and you howl in pain, your pelvis lifting off the bed except he pins you back down with just one hand.

“Don’t fucking use my first name. You will address me as Captain. One more slip up and I won’t do you the favour of stretching you out.” His intense blue eyes meet your tear-filled ones, “And trust me, you want to be stretched out for when I fuck you.”

With gritted teeth and a cock that’s now painfully hard, he gets to work trying to stuff another finger into your pussy. His other hand grabs your hip in a bruising grip, and his fingers stroke your smooth, bouncy ass every so often like he can’t help it. You’re turning him on so fucking much; with your crying, how you’re begging him to stop, how weak and small you are, how fucking tight your pussy is. It makes Steve want to say something just so he can hear you speak in response, despite the fact that he’s never vocal during sex.

“Tell me, why is your pussy so fucking tight?”

“H-Huh?”

“You heard me.”

You sniffle again, shooting him a pleading look that he doesn’t even bother acknowledging. He just looks at you with waiting eyes as he nonchalantly continues to force his second finger inside you. He wants to hear you say naughty things with your innocent little mouth, and talking would get you to fucking relax so he could penetrate you with his digits properly in order to stretch you out in preparation for his dick.

“I-I’ve never done this before…” you scrunch your eyes shut, but a quick slap to your thigh has you opening them again.

“You’ve never fingered yourself?”

“No!”

“Tell me why not.”

You bow your head, “I don’t know… I just… I never did, okay? I’ve never done any of it.”

A wicked thought crosses Steve’s mind, “Oh yeah? You’ve never done anything naughty, huh? You’re a good girl?” His second finger curves up to join the first, and your hips jerk forward as you suck in your breath. It makes him smile, and he slowly begins to pump his two fingers in and out of you, “You’ve never, say, humped your baby cunt against your pillow at night? Or your stuffed animals?”

The way you freeze and how your eyes widen is all the confirmation Steve needs. He chuckles darkly.

“So that’s the type of girl you are. Riding your pillow at night when you think no one’s watching, and you probably touch your body all over, too, don’t you?” Lightning quick, his other hand leaves your hip, grabbing your wrist and bringing your hand up to your chest. Through the material of your bra, he makes you cup your breast like how he would, wanting to watch with dark eyes as you play with your tits, trying to imagine how hot you’d look doing just that all alone in the privacy of whatever girlish bedroom you had.

Steadily, he continues to finger you, pumping his digits in and out of your greedy, wet pussy, and it makes slurping sounds as it swallows his fingers in over and over again. And he observes you carefully, notices your wide eyes, the sweat on your brow, the way your lips are parted as your breathing shallows out. He even sees the slight buck of your hips, and he knows he has you where he wants you, hanging on to his every filthy word despite your mind screaming at you to continue resisting.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Steve mutters lowly, “I know that’s what all innocent little girls like you do when they think they’re alone. You play with your tits and you rub your cunt all over your pillow, till you’ve got it all wet and messy. All while you fantasise about a man like me fucking you, taking care of you, huh? I’m right, aren’t I?”

You’re full on panting now, as if his beguiling words have made you forget all about your resistance, and you rock your hips harder against his thick fingers, little pants and moans sneaking past your pouty lips as he watches you closely.

“And then you act like a good girl, and you lie to me and tell me you’ve never touched yourself. But you and I both know that’s not true. Not when you spend your nights alone in your bedroom riding your little pillow while mommy and daddy sleep in the next room, and then when you’re done, I bet you bring it up to your face, just so you can smell your own wetness, right?”

This time, he gives your ass a swift slap when you don’t reply, and you cry out in pain before squeezing your eyes shut.

“Y-Yes,” you breathe softly, so softly that he barely catches it. But it makes him grin wickedly all the same. He hasn’t had this much fun with a reward since God knows when. He never bothers speaking to the lowlife girls brought to him as post-mission rewards, let alone engaging in dirty talk with them as he was with you, hanging on to your every word because it makes his dick so fucking hard.

“Of course, I’m right,” he mutters, “Captain always knows. I know you’re a little slut in the making just like all the other college girls of this century. You bring your pillow up to your face and you smell your cunt on there, and you lick it too, don’t you? You taste yourself because you’re curious, and you don’t have a man like me to show you how it’s done.”

He slips his fingers out of your cunt, your walls automatically squeezing around them as if they want to keep him inside you. But his digits are dripping wet, and he brings them up to your face. He shoves them past your lips, and you protest but all it does is create vibrations around his fingers as he smears them inside your mouth.

“Taste yourself,” he orders you, “suck on daddy’s fingers, don’t be shy.”

It takes him a few seconds to register that he’s just referred to himself as daddy. He hasn’t done that in a while – not since the forties, at least. Back then, it was quite common for women to call their man daddy, and Steve remembers enjoying it when he used to fuck the show girls during tours. But now? He usually stuck to being called “sir” or “captain” or just nothing at all. Because “daddy” was way too intimate, it suggested that he was going to take care of you. And he wasn’t going to take care of you – he was going to ruin you before you’d be taken away tomorrow.

And yet you look so sweet and cute as you suck on his fingers, too scared to fight back any more although your eyes blaze with objection, and tears stream down your face. He doesn’t think you’ll stop crying at all tonight, but he doesn’t give a fuck about that. Not when your pouty lips look so hot sucking yourself off his fingers.

“That’s right, get ‘em nice and wet,” he murmurs lowly, before deciding he misses the feel of your tight cunt squeezing his fingers – and he still has to stretch you out, too. He removes his digits from your mouth, watching as you gasp to breathe. He trails them down your front, down your chest, down your torso, all the way down to your clit. He gives it another smack, loving how you jerk upwards like you’re so damn sensitive.

He grabs a pillow, putting it underneath your ass so he has your cunt propped up and he can examine it better. Your cream is pouring out of you almost, dripping down to the pillow below you while you cry and pretend you don’t like it. But the signs are all there, he can even see how your pelvis shakes and humps upwards, because you need a man to fill you up no matter how much you protest.

“Tight little baby cunt,” he says softly as he spreads your pussy lips once more. You look so wet and slippery and yet he knows he needs to pour some more lube into your fuckhole, which he does. And then, without giving you much time to react, he shoves three of his fingers inside you, pushing harder and with more force when he’s met with any barrier.

“STOP, NO, PLEASE! STOP, CAPTAIN – TOO MUCH!” You scream so loudly that the walls seem to vibrate around the two of you.

“Shut up and take it,” Steve says, narrowing his eyes up at you before he focuses back on your gorgeous cunt, watching as your leaking hole finally swallows his three digits, “Look at this greedy little virgin pussy, so ready for my big dick to split her in half.”

You shake your head violently, crying and protesting, but it’s when you bat at his head that he sees red. How fucking dare you hit him? Just now, when he was thinking you’d been raised well, but clearly not if you didn’t think it was a problem to hit your superiors.

“You raise your hand at me again, and I’ll hit you back twice as hard.”

His menacing words make you freeze, and you whimper quietly in absolute fear as he continues to play with your pussy. He fingers you in earnest now, three of his digits stretching you out as he scissors you open, amused by the squelching sounds your cunt makes as it swallows his fingers over and over again.

“Apologise to me,” Steve demands, “say you will not raise your hand at your superior ever again.”

You sniffle, “S-Sorry…”

“Sorry, who?” He pinches your ass unforgivingly.

“Sorry, Captain! I won’t raise my hand at my superiors, okay? I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” You squeal the last few words, your pitch going higher and higher as your hips begin to meet his thrusts. And bless your innocent fucking face, you look so confused by what’s happening. Your pussy’s jammed tight but he knows it must’ve started feeling good. All greedy little girls like you needed was a little push in the right direction.

Off their own accord, your thighs lock around his hand as you cum for a second time, your walls squeezing and pulsating against his fingers so fucking tightly as you mewl and cry above him. You’re absolutely gushing with wetness now, and the pillow below your ass is stained dark with your juices. For someone who kept claiming she didn’t want this, you sure were receptive to his touch.

Steve snatches his fingers out of you, smirking when you, despite everything, cry in protest at the loss of friction. He bets your pussy feels all gaping and empty now, because he knows how big and thick his fingers are. A normal-sized man would’ve had trouble stretching your virgin cunt out with his dick – Steve had had that same problem with just his fingers.

But he knows he’ll somehow manage to fit his cock inside you if he prepped you well enough. Or else he’d spend the whole night trying to. Often, with the women he’d slept with in the past, he’d be too impatient and couldn’t be bothered to prep them properly. Because of that, he’d only be able to fit half his dick inside them, and he’d grown used to fucking them like that, only because it was physically impossible to go any deeper. He won’t let that be the case tonight.

He climbs up your quivering body, and you look spent already after two orgasms, your eyes fluttering like you’re about to pass out. Steve can’t have that though, and he taps your cheek not so gently, hovering on top of you till you open your eyes and meet his gaze.

“Please, Captain,” you whisper faintly, “E-Enough, please. Can’t take any more.”

Steve ignores you. He’s grown distracted by your lips. How wet and warm and pouty they look, glistening with a mix of your salty tears, your cum and your saliva. Fuck. He never kissed any of his “rewards” before, it was too intimate and Steve didn’t do intimacy. But maybe…

He spits down on your face, his saliva landing on your cheek as you cringe. Fuck intimacy, Steve thinks, using his hand to smear his spit all over your face, till it’s shining with a mixture of both your bodily fluids. So messy yet so pretty…

“N-Never been kissed before!” you blurt out once more all of a sudden, as if you’ve read his mind. Your eyes plead up at him, a tiny bit of hope in your eyes as if you truly believe he’ll show you empathy and spare you, “P-Please, Sir. I’ve never been kissed, a-and I want it to be special…”

How cute. You were worried about him spoiling your first kiss as if he hadn’t just finger-fucked you to two orgasms in the span five minutes. Amused, he brings his thumb up to your mouth, stroking your pouty bottom lip gently.

“You don’t let the boys at your college kiss you?” He asks, again not fully understanding why he’s even bothering to talk to you, but he figures it’s simply because he finds it amusing.

“N-No, Captain.”

“Why not?”

“I’m t-too shy, and they’re not… they’re not interested in me,” you sound so shaky, peering up at him as if you expect him to just get off you now you’ve told him your sob story about wanting to save your first kiss to be something special.

Steve snorts. And just how fucking naïve could you be? You’re fucking delectable, he bets the lowlifes at your college creamed their pants thinking about you. Suddenly, he bristles at the thought of sending you back tomorrow, back to the dumb idiots you went to college with. But he shakes the thought out of his mind to focus solely on you.

“There’s nothing special about kissing,” he tells you, “Love, intimacy, saving yourself for that special someone – none of that’s real. The sooner you realise that, the better.”

He kisses you, cupping your cheeks with his hands so that you don’t move your face aside. At first, he’s rough, unforgiving, pressing his tongue into your mouth because you taste so sweet and he needs to get more. And then he slows down, registers your soft, quivering lips on his, how rigid they are as you don’t kiss him back. He snorts inwardly, not caring in the least. He’d kiss you all he wanted – he doesn’t care if you don’t respond.

Steve sighs into your mouth, so tuned in to your senses that he feels your breath hitch, and a tiny squeak sounds past your lips and straight into his. His thumbs, seemingly moving off their own accord, stroke your cheekbones, and he feels your body instinctively relax underneath his – probably because that’s the first and only gentle gesture you’ve felt from him this whole night.

Slowly, he sucks your bottom lip almost sweetly, as if lulling you into a false sense of security. You’re still too scared or shy to kiss him back, but that doesn’t make the kiss any less enjoyable for him. His tongue plays with yours coaxingly, because he can’t remember the last time he kissed a girl and liked it so much. And then he feels you give a tiny little kitten lick, as if you’re testing the waters as you move your tongue shyly against his. And the feeling goes straight to his dick.

He pulls away slightly to watch your face, amused when he sees your eyes scrunched shut and your lips slightly pursed, as if awaiting another kiss. And that’s what he does, giving you one, two, three quick pecks that have you inhaling deeply, and your eyes open cautiously. But they flutter shut almost immediately when they find him staring back at you.

Steve goes in for another kiss, as if one wasn’t enough because suddenly it’s like he’s parched, and his raging hard on would have to wait a second longer. His dick is as hard as a metal rod, resting against your bare stomach as he makes out with you. One of his hands reach down to cup your breast, and he can feel your nipple, hard as glass, poke against his palm even through the material of the bra. You squeak into his mouth again, as if him touching and playing with your breast is making your body invertedly respond to him.

He can definitely feel you kissing him back now, even though it’s shy and periodic… Your tongue moving slowly against his for a few seconds before you remember you’re not supposed to be enjoying this and you freeze. And then you start again, your tongue timidly stroking against his once more. Then you stop again. Repeat. It makes him smirk against your lips, feeling a rumbling in his chest like he wants to chuckle in amusement.

He pulls away, examining how breathless and cute you look. And you gaze up at him with glassy, wet eyes, those perfect, pouty lips still slightly puckered, as if you’re asking for more. But he continues to just drink in every detail of your face and how you look a mix of scared and curious, afraid and confused.

“W-Was I bad?” you breathe, and your innocent face is begging for reassurance. He knows because little girls like you always want reassurance, are always seeking out the approval of men like him. And a part of him wants to tell you no, no you weren’t bad at all. In fact, he rather enjoyed kissing you. But he keeps his mouth shut, because it wasn’t his job to reassure you. And maybe he wants you to be a bit insecure; you’d work harder in pleasing him if you thought he didn’t like your kiss.

He’s still cupping your breast with one hand, and he suddenly feels a wave of irritation at the lacy material of your bra. Quick as a wink, he tears your bra apart, the two ripped pieces now lying on either side of you. A hungry growl emanates from him, and he feels like an animal, he really just wants to suck on your tits but his dick is growing impatient, and you’d probably pass out from fear and dread if he stretched this out any longer.

He reaches to grab a condom from where he stashes them in his bedside drawer. Protection was a must for him – who knew what kinds of diseases all these modern, promiscuous girls were carrying? And yet, his hand falters before he draws back completely, his mind clouding with thoughts of how sexy your soft pussy would feel around his dick if he fucked you raw. Yes. He had to fuck you raw, feel your tight virgin pussy around him as he ruined it. He deserved as much.

Instead, Steve grabs the lube once more, acutely aware of you watching him with eyes round as saucers as he squirts a generous amount of it on his dick. He looks back at you, lying deathly still underneath him, looking like you’ve seen a ghost. He wonders if your pussy’s still tingling from the two orgasms he’s just given you, and he absentmindedly pumps his dick at the thought. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this turned on before in his life, his dick so hard he feels he’ll blow his load right there and then.

He lines his cock up against your entrance, his hands holding your silky soft thighs apart. A part of him wishes you’d fight back just one more time, just so he could exert his dominance over you once more, just so it would highlight how weak and small you are. But you lay there, quivering in fear, definitely too scared to fight back, or too distracted by his dick he glides it up and down your wet slit in anticipation.

Suddenly, you grab his arm as if to stop him, and Steve narrows his eyes.

“W-Will it hurt?” You ask softly.

“Yes.”

You whimper, your grip on his arm tightening as another tear trickles down your cheek, and you look up at him with desperate eyes.

“Please, Captain, p-please could you… could you make it hurt less? Please?” You beg him so prettily, and he can’t help but focus on how your tears get caught in your lashes, and how you sniffle like a baby. “Please, I’m sc-scared, I– maybe if you were slow–?”

“It’s going to hurt no matter what,” Steve says briskly, feeling impatient beyond belief, and yet a part of him wants to brush and collect your tears. “In fact, if I go in slowly, it’ll hurt more.” He wonders if he should say more, say anything at all to ease your discomfort. But he reasons that that’s not his job – he’s not a lovesick boyfriend who needs to worry about your feelings. This is for him. He deserves this.

You start crying softly once more, your whole body shaking. Steve tries to ignore it, focusing on your cunt instead. His dick is twitching with excitement, the tip an angry red as he brings it up against your fuckhole. He grits his teeth and pushes in, but he can’t. You’re too tight – and he’s way too big. He sighs in frustration.

“Stop being so tense.” He orders you, pouring another decent amount of lube all over his cock as well as your entrance. He’d scissored you open with three of his fingers, but it had been an extremely tight fit. And three of his fingers didn’t compare to the girth and thickness of his dick – not even the tip of it. He frowns down at you, “You need to relax. It’ll hurt less if you relax.”

A panicked look flits over your face as you look down at his dick, and he knows you’re intimidated by his size. But then you take a deep breath, close your eyes and he feels your body get less tense underneath him. He smirks.

He grabs his cock by the base and lines it up against your hole once more. You flinch away from him, your innocent, puppy dog eyes blinking up at him. He doesn’t give a fuck though, and with a lot more determination this time, he grits his teeth and forces his way inside you.

Your scream is earth-shattering. But it’s music to his ears.

“NO, PLEASE, NO, TAKE IT OUT! TAKE IT OUT! TOO BIG!”

You thrash violently underneath him, limbs flailing before he pins them down. But for a handful of seconds, he can’t even really focus on you. Not when he’s finally basking in the glory of being inside your tight little snatch, and it feels almost euphoric. You feel so sexy around him, so hot and velvety, squeezing the life out of his fat cock. Well, he’s only got a bit more than his tip inside you, but it already feels fucking heavenly.

“Oh fuck,” Steve mutters under his breath, trying to get a grip and not get too lost in the feeling of your gorgeous fucking pussy. He hasn’t even fucked you yet, and yet he feels like his balls are about to blow with how fucking hot it feels being inside you like this.

“It hurts! T-Take it out, Captain! Please!” Your tiny hand grabs his forearm again, lips puckered so sweetly, even the grimace on your face looks beautiful. You’re beautiful when you’re in pain, and he’s addicted to the sight of it. For a split second, he imagines it’s his wedding night, and you’re his beautiful bride – sweet, innocent, beautiful bride and he’s just popped your cherry and now you’re his forever.

The thought makes him shudder, and he quickly pulls out (not that there’s much to pull out, since only his tip had entered you. You were crying and screaming just from being penetrated by only his tip, and this makes Steve smug, despite everything).

You’ve barely caught your breath when he drives his dick back inside you, and this time he really forces it in. Now that he’s got a taste of your warmth, he wants to be completely enveloped in it. His hands grab your hips tightly, forcing his fat cock inside you inch by inch. He doesn’t care if it takes all night, he was going to fully penetrate you if it was the last thing he did.

“Shhh, shut up and take it,” he orders you as you scream and protest. If any other one of his girls had screamed bloody murder the way you were doing right now, he would’ve smacked them unconscious. Not you though, and he doesn’t know why that is. “God fucking dammit, how is your pussy so fucking tight?”

“Y-You’re too big,” you answer, shaking your head over and over again, “th-this… this isn’t normal, Captain, y-you won’t fit! Please stop, something’s gonna break, I-I’m scared, I–”

He wants to break your pussy. He wants to break you.

“Shut up,” he snarls, before a thought occurs to him. Out of nowhere, he kisses you once more. Silencing your protests as his tongue works against yours, and he finds that he was already missing kissing you. God, you felt so good. Your warm, sexy lips against his and your warm, sexy pussy gripping his dick. God, fuck… So this is what great sex was, huh? Maybe he’d been fucking the wrong girls this whole time. Maybe he should’ve sought you out from the beginning – or someone like you. Someone young, innocent, unexperienced, delicate, fragile, a cry-baby. Just the complete opposite of him.

Despite everything, you kiss him back once more. Steve bets it’s because your girlish mind is trying to convince him (and yourself) that you’re a good kisser. He makes a mental note never to give you this reassurance – that way you’d just keep kissing him as if you had something to prove. Or at least that was the hope. Nevertheless, the kissing distracts you enough for him to still inside you (he’d only gotten less than a quarter of his huge dick in) and then he pulls out.

The third time he penetrates you, he does it with more force than ever before. And he bites your lip hard, grunting against you till he can taste your blood. That’s when he finally pushes more than halfway inside you, and he hears something rip from within. And you scream, you scream so fucking loudly and straight into his mouth, but he continues to kiss you, basking in the feeling of being inside you properly now. His dick feels so constricted inside your tight walls, but it’s the best feeling he’s ever felt.

He breaks the kiss to look down into your eyes, and savour your reaction to being impaled by him, to being filled up by only half his length. But your head lolls to the side, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

You’ve passed out.

“What a fucking baby,” Steve hisses, shallowly thrusting in and out of you. “Can’t even take daddy’s dick inside this tight little snatch of yours without passing out, can you?” Truthfully, he doesn’t even want to pull out, he’s so obsessed with how good your pulsating pussy feels around his dick. But he knows he needs to draw back so he can thrust back in even deeper. He’s only got half his dick inside you now, but he’s determined to get in balls deep before the night is over.

“Wake the fuck up!” he commands, wanting you alert as he defiles you. He slaps your cheek lightly several times, to no avail. He sighs, reaching for the glass of water on his side table. He dips his fingers into the liquid before sprinkling the water over your face. He slaps your cheek again, harder this time, and it turns him on when he hits you, taps into his darkest, most masochistic desires that he keeps under wraps from even himself.

It's only when he pulls out and slams back into you that you suddenly rouse, and it takes you a nanosecond to start screaming again, panicking and flailing underneath him once more. But he’s not having it this time, and quickly plasters his palm over your mouth to silence you.

“Tell me... how does daddy’s dick feel?” He asks you darkly, and he can sense the sadistic smile on his face fuelled by the sheer power he has over you right now. “And I’ll backhand the fuck out of you if you start screaming again, so don’t even try it.”

He removes his hand from your mouth and focuses on pushing more into you, and you pant underneath him, silently sobbing and cringing in pain. And yet you swallow and look up at him bravely.

“I-It hurts!”

“Address me properly.”

“C-Captain, it hurts!”

He narrows his eyes, “No. I asked you how does daddy’s dick feel?”

Your jaw drops open, and it looks like you’ve momentarily forgotten that he’s currently trying to impale you with his huge dick. Your face has the audacity to look mortified, and he wonders how innocent you truly are.

“I can’t… I can’t call you… That’s wrong!” you sputter, looking almost – dare Steve think it – cute. With your wide eyes and indignant gaze and delicious pouty lips in the shape of an o. You seem to blurt out your next words without even thinking: “Y-You’re not my dad!”

Steve barks out a laugh before he can stop himself, but he straightens his face almost immediately, reaching up to grip your chin harshly between his thumb and forefinger. Faced with your horror-struck reaction to calling him daddy, he now wants you to address him as that and nothing else.

“Listen, sweetheart. You may have noticed by now that you don’t get much of a say in what happens to you tonight,” he licks up your jawline before his lips brush against your mouth, and he speaks in a whisper, “Now answer my question. And address me properly. Or else.”

You look mortified, scrunching your eyes shut as you breath rapidly in and out. “It… It hurts…daddy.”

Steve feels like he’ll bust a nut right there and then. He doesn’t think he’s ever been more turned on. You’re so small and shy, so tiny and naïve and scared like a baby, and now you’re calling him daddy in that sexy, shaky voice of yours. Goddamn, what a sexy little slut you were. And he’d take care of you tonight, just like any daddy would. Oh… damn right he’d be your daddy tonight. God fucking dammit, you were such a little slut for calling him that!

With a renewed, carnal type of lust, Steve grabs your legs and hoists them over his shoulders. You yelp as he folds you in half like a goddamned pretzel. And the juxtaposition, the visual of your naked body underneath him still in his bloodied suit from the mission – God, it turns him on so much. He presses another kiss to your lips, guiding you into making out with him, wanting you to get obsessed with the idea of kissing him. And then he pulls away, and looks you right in the eye.

“Now you can scream.”

“Huh?”

He slams into you so fucking hard, he’s sure you see stars. And if you were screaming loudly before, it’s nothing compared to now. His entire floor is sound-proofed, but he’s sure the people above and below can hear you. He’s pushed himself far deeper into you, so deep that he senses something rip inside you again. And you’re crying, your little fists pounding against his chest, and yet Steve grits his teeth and mutters, “take it, just fucking take it,” pushing into you bit by bit, inch by inch, so determined to finally get his cock all the way inside you. Pulling out a bit, then pushing in some more while your tight walls try to push him out but he’s so much fucking stronger than you.

A deep rumble emanates past his lips when he finally – fucking finally – bottoms out inside you, and he leans down to press his forehead over yours so he can savour the moment. You were his, completely, irrevocably, undeniably his. You whimper and cry underneath him but it’s music to his ears, your sweet reaction to him popping your cherry, completely snatching away your virginity and possessing it as his forever. He looks down to where you two meet, sees your pussy stretched out completely around his girthy dick, and it makes him want to spontaneously combust.

“You’re mine.” Steve breathes against your lips, and for the second time tonight, the image of you as his little bride flits through his mind. Yes, you’d make a very fitting bride for him. Small and submissive and innocent. And he’d never taken marriage seriously before now but… well, how could he give you up? When he’d taken your virginity and made you his? How could he possibly send you back to wherever you’d come from? The mere thought fills him with vitriolic rage. No. You were to stay with Steve, and you’d be his bride. His wife. His. “Say it. Say you’re mine.”

You don’t argue this time, or even hesitate. He knows he’s broken you when you look up at him, dazed expression on your face. “I’m – I’m yours, daddy.”

Fuck. And you’d gone and called him daddy again without him even having to prompt you. Yes. That more than sealed your fate. You would be his now. His girl. His wife. He’d keep you locked up in his room forever, the same reward that he’d look forward to coming home to after every mission.

“How does it feel to have your baby pussy split open on my cock, sweetheart?” He presses kisses down the nape of your neck, excitement rippling through him at his impulsive decision to make you his wife. The thrill of finding a bride as cute as you makes him want to kiss you even more, and he nips at your neck before reaching your lips, pecking them once, twice, three times. All while you look up at him with glassy, wet eyes and a pitiful expression mixed with something else.

“Please,” you breathe quietly against his lips, and with sapped energy you manage to grab a fistful of his suit, pulling it to get his attention, “Please, make it hurt less. Please.”

Steve smirks, pulling out of you and preparing to slam back in. But he grows distracted by the sight of his cock, completely coated scarlet with your blood. Your virgin blood. The pillow under your ass is stained with drops of dark crimson too, and he’s never seen anything like it. Fuck. He’d really done a number on you, hadn’t he? And he hadn’t even begun fucking you yet.

I deserve this, he thinks to himself.

He slams into you again, the gasp dying in your mouth when he grabs you by the chin and forces you to look down at where you two meet. Your eyes grow wider, your mouth dropping open as you shake your head in disbelief at the sight of your pussy so stretched out to accommodate his girth.

“What’re those conservative parents of yours gonna think when they find out their good little girl just got her pussy ripped apart by a man twice her age?”

You swallow and shake your head, “I–I…”

“Answer me!”

“They’d be d-d-disappointed!” You cry out, ripping your gaze away from the sight of his dick penetrating your formerly virgin pussy, instead looking up at him instead, your mouth looking so deliciously pouty.

Steve smiles wickedly, “It’s a good thing you’re not their little girl anymore, huh? You’re mine now, so their opinion doesn’t matter.”

“Th-They like you! They’re fans of you… They wouldn’t like this at all! OH MY GOD!” You gasp, and he has to hold you down to keep you from sliding upwards from the power of his thrusts. You cry out once more, “W-Was supposed to – ah! – wait till I was married…”

The mention of marriage has Steve imagining you as his little bride once more. He already owned your body, mind and soul – but the marriage certificate would make sure he owned you under the eyes of the law too. His kept woman you’d be, fluttering around his apartment like a bird in a gilded cage. Or maybe he’d move you into one of the suburban properties he owned, where he could come home to you and relieve all his tension and worries. Yes. It would be perfect. He’d make all the arrangements tomorrow…

For now, he focuses back on fucking you silly. Pulling out all the way, he rams his dick straight back into your cunt, and you let out a sound that’s a mix between a squeak and a moan. He looks down at you curiously.

“You like that? You like daddy’s big dick?” He grabs your hands, squeezing them tightly.

“T-Too big!” Your eyes flutter shut as if you’re about to pass out again. “C-Captain, please slow down! H-Hurts so bad!”

Steve bristles. Hadn’t he explicitly told you to call him daddy? After all, he’d be your daddy now. You wouldn’t be your father’s property after tonight. No, you were Steve’s. He was your daddy, and he’d take care of you because you’d soon become his bride. But he wouldn’t have an insolent, insubordinate wife who couldn’t take instructions well. That wouldn’t do at all.

He grunts, letting go of your hands and wrapping his fingers around your throat instead. You squeal in protest but it lands on deaf ears. His other hand presses down over your mouth once more.

“Shut up!” He snaps, “Stop squealing like a little bitch. It hurts but you’re just going to have to take it. And you better start calling me daddy, or else I’ll drag you back downstairs and fuck you in front of everyone.” He only means it as a threat, but he knows by the way your breath hitches that you’re innocent enough to believe him.

He removes his hand from your lips and taps you roughly on your cheek, “Tell me you understand.”

You nod, receiving a harder tap on your cheek and a menacing look.

“I-I understand, daddy, I – oh – oh my!”

He thrusts into you with such force, he knows you’re seeing stars. And it’s subtle, but Steve catches it. He catches the shift in your expression, this unfamiliar spark in your eye as if you don’t know what’s happening with your body. But Steve knows. Your body is finally starting to respond to his cruel ministrations – just like he knew you would. You were an innocent little baby but you were also a horny little slut who was enjoying getting fucked by a man like him.

“It’s starting to feel good, huh?” Steve whispers against your lips, imagining the different ways he’d take you for the rest of the night. Of course, you’d probably pass out again once he was done with this first round. But after that? Maybe he’d put you on top of him, bounce you up and down on his cock and get in even deeper that way. Or he’d make you suck his cock, or maybe he’d manhandle you till you were on his face, rubbing that sweet, gorgeous little baby cunt on his –

“I-I don’t understand!” You cry, and he feels you wiggle your hips subtly as if you’re trying to do it without him noticing, “Feels…feels…oh, oh god!” With abandon, your head lolls back and you rut your hips up against his dick, meeting his thrusts. Steve chuckles, a satisfied feeling spreading across his chest.

“All that crying and screaming, just for you to enjoy getting fucked by me,” Steve murmurs, brushing your hair off your face so he can gauge your expression better. You look so pitiful, biting your lip and looking up at him with wet eyes, humping up against his dick and your eyes reflecting the confusion you felt. “But don’t worry, all little girls like you love getting fucked by their daddy. It’s only natural, sweetheart.”

“D-Daddy, please,” you pant, and now your hands come up to grip a fistful of his suit, and he knows that you don’t even understand the pleasure you’re slowly starting to feel. And you’re gripping his cock so tight as he rams in and out of you, building up a steady pace now. He knows he’s found your g-spot and he’s pounding against it, but you have no fucking clue and it’s the hottest fucking thing ever.

“Look at you, humping your baby pussy up against daddy’s dick,” Steve shakes his head as if he’s reprimanding you. He spits down on your face, wanting you even messier. His hand leaves your throat as he shoves two of his fingers past your lips, spreading them open and spitting again. His saliva lands on your tongue, “Swallow it, you nasty fucking slut. I knew I’d make you my little slut before the night was through. I said fucking swallow it. That’s right. Good girl.”

“Ah, ah, ah– tingles… I – daddy! P-Please, I don’t know what’s – AH!”

Your breathless moans and nonsensical garbles are like music to his ears, but nothing compares to the way you clamp down on his cock when you suddenly squirt around it. The way you squeak and clutch him tightly, and he fucks you through your orgasm. Your very first orgasm while getting fucked, and it’s so fucking sexy the way your tight walls flutter around him. God, he could get used to this feeling – buried deep inside your wet, tight snatch every single night from here on out.

“Did daddy make you feel good?” He breathes, hips moving like a jackhammer, his balls slapping against your pussy as he continues to fuck you.

You nod timidly, wiped out from your orgasm to say anything else. He smirks, watching your breasts bounce up and down as he fucks the living daylights out of you and you just lie there beneath him and take it. As if a part of you had understood that this was to be your job from here on out – his little fuckdoll, his little prize after God knows how many listless years of saving the world, saving people who he didn’t give a flying fuck about.

He’d won countless medals of honour, rewarding him for his bravery in serving his country, in saving his people. But you were his true prize, with your tight cunt that was his and his only. And how jealous every other man would be! He knew they already envied his physique, his fame, his authority. Now all those assholes would have another reason to envy him – because his little bride was the most innocent, most vulnerable, most beautiful girl they’d ever lay their eyes on. And it would be his bed in which you’d be, night after night, waiting with spread legs for him to fuck you.

Of course, he’d fuck other women if he so wanted to. Steve didn’t believe in love or monogamy. He believed in ownership, though. And he owned you, every part of you from your cunt to your soul. You wouldn’t even look at another man ever again, or else Steve would have you killed. And the thought of you with another man is what incenses him even more.

With a low growl, he pulls out of you. Your eyes shoot open, your mouth pausing mid-moan to look up at him desperately. Your cunt shamelessly humps the air, and he can’t believe what a little harlot you’ve turned into after your first taste of sex. He looks down at his blood-covered dick, grabbing it by the base. He lays his fat cock on your stomach, painting your smooth skin scarlet with your own virginal blood. The sight turns him on even more, and with another growl, he puts your legs down and flips you over on your stomach.

He grabs your ankle, dragging you to the foot of the bed while you squeak in protest and confusion. He gets off the bed, standing up to his full height as you cower beneath him, looking back at him over your shoulder warily, a trail of blood on the sheets from where he’d dragged you.

“Hands and knees,” he orders, “and don’t fucking make me repeat myself.”

This time, you do obey pretty quickly. Mustering up whatever energy you have left, you shakily get on your hands and knees. He grabs your hips just in time, keeping you upright before your body has a chance to collapse. Your legs are shaking and he knows your body can’t take much more. He doesn’t care, because he owns your body and you’ll take what he gives you.

“Nice ass,” he smirks, squeezing and kneading your ass cheeks liberally before giving your ass a hard smack that has your knees buckling. He hoists you back up by your hips, “Thank me for the compliment, sweetheart.”

“Th-Thank you, daddy.” You answer almost at once, and Steve grins wolfishly. He’s broken you. He bets you’d do just about anything to please him now. He bets you’ve forgotten about your life back home, and all your tiny mind can think about now is your daddy and his big cock.

With a grunt, Steve pistons his fat cock inside you once more. And god, from this angle, with your gorgeous, perky ass right in his fucking face, he feels like he’s going to blow his load any second. You start moaning again, rocking your hips backwards, garbling “please” and “daddy” and other nonsense. Your ass bounces with each thrust, and Steve can’t help but slap it brutally hard, over and over again, wanting you even more bruised and bloody than you already are right now.

“You like it rough, don’t you?” he asks, slapping and pinching your ass while he watches his dick disappear inside your sexy cunt over and over again, “you tried to act all innocent and cute, telling me you had fucking homework to do tonight, fuck!” He lifts your hips up off the bed to get a better angle, till he’s holding your entire lower body up in the air. It gives him better leverage, since he’s so tall, and he fucks you on his dick like you were nothing more than a fleshlight.

“I – ah, daddy! – I d-do have h-h-homework – OH MY GOD!”

It just gets Steve even harder, hearing you be so innocent despite being held up and fucked like a dog. You’ve got your elbows propped on the mattress to keep you up, your legs flailing helplessly as he holds your hips in the air, ramming you repeatedly with his fat cock till he knows you’re seeing stars.

“Forget about your fucking homework from now on,” he spits out, grabbing your ass lewdly and jiggling it, fascinated by how it bounces so cutely. “There’s no way I’m letting you go back to that college of yours.”

“Wh-What?”

He doesn’t answer, and the room is filled with sounds of skin slapping against skin, the carnal sound of Steve staking his claim on you. With all his other rewards, he’d be done in about fifteen minutes. You, he’d have you all night if he could. Well, he can – he’s built like a fucking tank with stamina for days. You, on the other hand, keep looking like you’re going to pass out and he’s pretty sure he’s done some type of damage to your pussy. He’d have SHIELD’s physician check you tomorrow.

He throws you back down on the bed, not giving you a chance to even catch your breath before he’s on top of you, flipping you on your back and urgently pressing his lips to yours. Much to his smugness, this time you respond as if it’s muscle memory, kissing him back as best as you can. And for a person who’s just learnt how to kiss, you sure were extremely desperate for it. You keep kissing him even when he enters back into you for the third time, fucking you on your back and this time you wrap your arms and legs around him like a goddamned koala bear, your kisses growing more fervent till Steve pulls away and chuckles against your lips.

“You like kissing me?” He finds himself asking you, holding you in place beneath him as he fucks you hard, but his one hand comes up to grip your chin so you don’t look away, “be honest, baby. You like kissing daddy?”

Your eyes widen in fear at the direct question, and he watches the panic on your face. But then your features contort in pleasure as he repeatedly hits that spot deep inside you, and you nod desperately, surging up to kiss him again but he pushes you back down.

“Use your words.”

“Ah, y-yes, I do, okay!? I like it! P-Please!”

You start doing that thing again, humping pathetically up into him as if to meet his thrusts. And he wonders if you realise how easy he’s truly going on you. He reckons he’s using about five percent of his power right now as he rams into you repeatedly. Any more than that and he’s sure he’d shatter your pelvis or cause permanent damage.

“Kiss me, then.” Steve says, not knowing why he sounds so gentle. He probably had something stuck in his throat, but he doesn’t dwell over it because, like a good little girl, you obey him. Your needy lips, your desperate tongue poking against his in a perfect kiss. He groans into your mouth, his thrusts going sloppy as your cunt squeezes around him because you’re so turned on by him kissing you.

“Am I… A-Am I doing this right, daddy?” You breathe, batting those fucking sexy, innocent eyes up at him.

Steve smirks, “You’re fine.”

You’re more than fine, of course – but he doesn’t need you knowing that. He needs you to be as insecure as possible. It made you even hotter, the look of self-doubt that you have on your face right now. He’s violated your body, he’s still violating your body, and yet all you seem to be focusing on is the fact that he thinks your kissing is “fine.” Not good, not great… but fine.

You kiss him once more, even more desperately this time, as if you’re trying to prove something. Steve relishes how easy it is to play with your mind, how naïve you are. How much he’ll enjoy playing with you when he makes you his wife. He continues pistoning his dick inside you as he lets his mind wander.

All the others would be so fucking jealous of him – even Bucky, who had a girl already but Bucky’s girl was nothing compared to you. He’d drag you around the whole building, the whole headquarters, the whole compound, showing you off like a shiny, new toy. That’s what you were – his very own toy.

He’d take you into meetings with him, make you sit on his lap and play with you in front of everyone. And he’d chop the dick off of anyone who looked at you in a way he didn’t like. He’d make you wear pretty dresses, make you look like a cute little housewife, train you to answer his every command. Fuck yeah, you’d be his reward. He deserved you, after all he had sacrificed for his country, for the world.

“D-Daddy, I’m feelin- tingly again!” you moan, your words shaky from how hard he’s fucking into you. Your legs wrap tighter around his waist and in return he clutches you harder, determined to make you squirt again before he had his own release.

“Oh yeah? What does it feel like?”

“D-Daddy – nngh…ah, I–I–”

He swats your clit harshly, making you howl in what he knows is pleasure. His dick hammers in and out of you unforgivingly, and you’re such a fucking slut, humping up against him, crying for your release. And it’s such a far cry from how much you were resisting him at first, he can’t believe what a little slut he’s reduced you to in such little time.

“Stupid girl, can’t even talk anymore, can you?” he mocks, pinching your clit meanly, bullying it as he rubs it fiercely. Till you’re thrashing underneath him, so desperate to cum that you don’t even care that your body is betraying you. “Tell me you’re a stupid little girl!”

“Oh fuck! I’m a – a – a stupid little girl!”

He can see the remnants of your tears stained to your cheeks, and he feels a carnal level of possession within him. With a growl, he lewdly licks the side of your face, claiming his territory, tasting your salty tears. Roughly, he tugs your hair, pulling your head to the side and biting down on your neck. So hard that he draws blood, and then he licks that up too. God, what a little slut you were – a slut disguised as an angel and you were making him act like a motherfucking animal.

And now the side of your neck sported his bite mark, your porcelain perfect skin marred by his branding of you. And this was just the beginning – Steve already knows that he plans to mark you in many different ways. Tomorrow, he’d get one of the agents to bring over a tattoo artist to tattoo his initials somewhere on your body. Maybe right above your baby cunt, just so you would always remember who you belonged to. He smirks, and wonders what your conservative parents would think of that.

“What would your parents think now, sweetheart?” He asks, grabbing one of your legs and hoisting it over his shoulder for a better angle. And you’re so pliable, so easily going along with whatever he’s doing to you like a perfect little doll. “What would they think of their perfect little girl getting fucked by Captain America like it’s her fucking job?”

You panic, as if the mention of your parents is a reminder of how wrong this all is for you – not that Steve gives a fuck. Biting your lip to keep from moaning at all the sensations you’re feeling, you shake your head. Only for him to slap you not so lightly on the cheek.

“Answer me, baby girl.”

“They’d – ah – they’d hate this, they’d be upset, they’d – OH FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!” You scream out all of a sudden, your pussy walls gripping him like a vice, “O-Oh, I’m feelin– I gotta–”

“Hold it.” Steve hisses warningly.

But you don’t. Of course, you don’t. Babies like you couldn’t hold orgasms for shit. And you cum, crying for him and gripping him tightly, and Steve feels like he’s going to lose it with how sexy it feels. It feels like your cunt is trying to swallow him up, crying for his seed as it pulsates around his fat cock that continues to move in and out.

“Bad girl,” Steve chastises, giving you another not-so-gentle slap on the cheek because you look like you’re about to faint again. He jostles you with the forces of his dick, still ramming in and out of you at lightning speed. “You do things without permission a lot at home?”

You have the audacity to, despite everything, look indignant: “N-No, never, I never–”

“Then what made you think you could cum without your daddy’s permission?”

Your lips purse as if you’re about to cry, and you blink up at him so goddamned innocent. Steve’s honestly surprised he’s still going, surprised he hasn’t busted a fucking nut with how goddamned cute and sexy you are.

“I’m…I’m sorry, I couldn’t – ah! – I had to, I–I–”

“Give me another one,” he orders you darkly.

“Wh-What–”

“You heard me. Cum for daddy again. Since you like doing it so much.”

Frantically, you shake your head, “C-Can’t! Too much, daddy, it’s too much– O-O-HHH GOD!”

He reaches down to strum your clit before a dark thought crosses his mind. His fingers slip lower, gathering the wetness of your pussy along the way. Lower, between the cleft of your ass cheeks. He can’t resist giving one of your perky cheeks a hard smack, before going straight for your puckered hole. He circles it with his thumb and your body stiffens in shock and horror.

“N-No, daddy, no please, that’s wrong, that’s–”

Steve shoves his finger in your tight, virgin asshole. He hadn’t been planning on defiling that third hole tonight, but oh well. And it’s even tighter than your pussy, and you clench against his digit like a fucking whore because he knows you like it. You like your daddy’s finger up there. His fucked up little wife-to-be… God, you were so perfect for him.

With his fat cock, Steve fucks your pussy and at the same time, his huge finger fucks your tiny ass. Pumping in and out of your tiny hole while you cry and yet once more you slowly begin humping up against him. As if the depravity of it all turned you on even more – which he knew it did.

Your hand tugs at his bicep, making him shift his gaze back up to you.

“It’s happening again, daddy, it’s– d-don’t stop, I–”

Steve licks his lips, “Say you’ll marry me.”

Your eyes widen the most they have all night, “Wh-What?!”

“Say it!” He orders, “Say it or else I’ll fucking stop and leave you hanging. Say you’ll marry me, be my wife and do whatever the fuck I tell you to do.”

“N-No, I–”

He stills his hips, only for you to shake your head and grip his arm harder in desperation, humping up against him hopelessly.

“Say it. Say you’re daddy’s little bride. Fucking say it.”

“I-I’m daddy’s little bride, okay? I’ll do it, daddy, I’ll marry you, I – OH FUCK, PLEASE – I’ll do whatever you say, I, just please, I–” You’ve lost it, completely lost it as new tears swell from your eyes and you beg him as if you have no shame at all. And Steve feels all the pride and smugness in the world as he resumes fucking you, knowing he won’t last any longer after this carnal display of submission from you.

“Cum.” He orders you, “right now, sweetheart, do what I say and cum for daddy.”

You squirt so violently around his cock, that your whole body shakes and shudders, you’re so overwhelmed by pleasure. Toes curled and tears streaking your face, you hold him so tightly that he’s surprised by your strength, and you keep moaning his name, you keep moaning “daddy” over and over again as if he got his agents to reprogramme your brain and it’s all you know how to say now.

“That’s right, baby girl,” he mutters lowly, “squeeze that pretty little princess cunt around daddy’s dick. You’re such a good fucking girl.”

“Th-Thank you, daddy,” your meek response, barely audible by how quietly you say it, is not something he expected, and it goes straight to his dick. Not you, not his little bride, thanking him for deflowering you in the most brutal way possible? Fuck, he’d broken you. You’d be licking the palm of his hand by tomorrow; he just knew it.

The thought makes him shudder, his dick twitches and then he unloads inside you. Spurt after spurt unloaded straight into your pussy, and it’s such a satisfying feeling, pumping you full of his seed. Filling you the fuck up, and he’s glad he didn’t use the fucking condom. And there’s so much of his cum, because of the serum of course, so much that it doesn’t even fit inside you. It pours out of you and you watch with wide eyes before letting out a soft cry.

“I’m not… I’m not protected, I don’t take birth control, I–I…” Your voice trails off, too weak to voice any more protestations as Steve continues to empty himself inside you, your words having no effect on him whatsoever.

“Good. You’d be lucky to carry my child.” Steve informs you, his cock already thickening again at the thought of him knocking you up. He’d never had an interest in having children before now, but fucking a whole family into you seems like the hottest fucking thing he could do right now. Captain America: the family man. It made sense for his image.

Your protests fall on deaf ears, and he remains inside you, till he’s finally emptied out and your poor, raw pussy is overflowing with his cum. But he stays on top of you, propped up on his elbows as he watches you underneath him. Your chest rising and falling as you breathe, and you’re so pretty, and he can’t help but lean down to kiss you again. Once, twice, three times. He frowns when you don’t kiss him back, drawing back to take another look at you.

Your eyes have fluttered shut. Your body couldn’t take it. You’ve passed out once more.

Steve smirks, feeling himself hardening up again inside you. He had absolutely no qualms with fucking you back to consciousness again.

***

It’s gone past midnight when Steve hears a knock on his door. He calls for them to come in, and two SHIELD agents appear in his doorway. The same two who always come to take away his rewards after he’s done with them.

The female agent’s jaw twitches at the sight. Steve on the bed, having changed and washed up with a quick shower. And you’re next to him, passed out on the bloodied sheets. Steve reckons you look beautiful, like you’re sleeping.

“Would you like for us to take her away, Captain?” The male agent asks.

“No. She will stay with me. Contact her family and let them know, make them pack a bag for her and make sure it arrives here by tomorrow.”

The male agent nods, but the female – it’s always the damned females, Steve scorns – she hesitates.

“Captain, she looks like she’s in bad shape. Maybe–”

“That will be all.” Steve interrupts, “you can leave now.”

They do, and Steve turns his attentions back to you – his little girl, as you begin to stir.

“Shhh,” he orders, when you open your mouth to speak. Your eyes look bleary, you look confused, wondering whether all this was a dream or not. Steve’s in no mood to indulge you, and yet he presses his thumb past your lips. And fuck, it goes straight to his dick when you readily accept it, sucking his thumb like a baby as you blink up at him.

His beautiful, broken little bride.

“Go back to sleep.” Steve tells you, “Tomorrow’s going to be a busy day for us. You need all the rest you can get.”

Yes, tomorrow. When he’d parade you around his teammates as Captain America’s little bride. It would be perfect. His forever reward.

Tony had his alcohol, Sam had his parties, Bruce had his research and Bucky had some girl. But Steve? Steve had drawn the best cards out of all of them. Because he had you. Your submission, your devotion. You.

He deserved this.

AKFSLA THE END!! Steve's inner monologue was unhinged af. I know! Please, please let me know what you think!!! It would mean the world, please do reblog and leave feedback!!! I have been writing this for around two weeks and would love to know what you think!!! As usual, thanks so much for reading my work and supporting me!!! I love you guys!! SORRY IF IT SUCKED ASDAGNL.

ALSO please forgive me if i got anything wrong about shield or hydra or any of that. like i literally am not an expert asnglagl okaybye!!!

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #chris evans #dark steve rogers #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #chris evans fanfiction

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sunflowerdarlingx · 2 years

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His Girl Chapter Two - Steve Rogers

(18+)

Hello lovelies,

How are you all? This is part two of His Girl and I wanna say a big thank you to those who have been reading so far!

Mob!Steve Rogers x Reader (she/her pronouns and y/n used).

Warnings: Smutty content, fingering (fem receiving), grinding, slight dirty talk and a third person in the car.

Minors DNI.

Series Masterlist / Introduction / Chapter One

As the pair sat in the car, Steve found himself admiring her once more. His gaze takes her body in, focusing on her curves and dips. Tilting his head slightly, he took in the way her dress rested against her thighs and he felt himself get lost admiring her.

Y/n turned her head to ask Steve how far away his apartment was and found herself blushing at the intense gaze he held on her. His lustful eyes met hers and she felt something wake deep in her core. Her breath caught in her throat as he leaned forward. “Sorry sweetheart, didn’t mean to stare,” his rough hand came up to rest against her soft cheek, “you just look so pretty”. His eyes held hers until she glanced down to his lips.

Steve leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers before pulling back. Her delicate body relaxed into his as his lips met hers again. Her lips were soft against his and they felt themselves melting into the kiss. Gentle pecks turned into more and they found themselves fighting for dominance. Steve obviously won.

His hand rested on her knee before it started to travel higher up her thigh. Steve began to trail his lips along her jaw and down her neck while he nudged her skirt up higher.

Y/n’s hands moved up to run her hands through his hair, her thighs spreading slightly, welcoming him in. Steve took in a sharp breath at the glance of her pink lace panties that sat under the black fabric and felt his cock harden beneath his trousers.

The damp patch was unmissable and Steve practically drooled at the sight. He was overcome with the need to be close to her, craving an intimacy he had never allowed himself to indulge in before.

His hand rested on her cheek and moved to the back of her neck as he guided her lips to his once more. This time this kiss was rushed. It was all teeth and tongue as he moved his hand up to her underwear. The action had her gasping into the kiss while his fingers trailed up her slit before concentrating on rubbing delicate circles on her clit. Steve was taking his time to slowly begin to pleasure the small bundle of nerves, his pace very different compared to his previous hookups.

Her restless hands caressed over his shoulders before moving down to rest against his hard chest. Steve's lips stopped beside her ear, “so wet sweetheart”, his teeth grazed her ear after he spoke. “Who got you this wet? Hmm? Your panties are soaked”.

“You did” her voice came out as a hushed whisper, her hips grinding against his hand, Steve had oozed sex appeal since she first saw him at the small restaurant earlier that day, and her panties had been dampening from the second she first laid eyes on him.

“What was that sweetheart?”

She let out a whine as his fingers slowed. “You did… ‘s all you”. His pace picked up and he curled his finger to hit her g-spot. He groaned at her response. The thought of him doing this to her was driving him mad. He thrived off of the idea that it was him pleasuring her. His confidence was an extremely attractive quality and that alongside his good looks was an extreme turn on for the girl before him and the others that he had slept with before her.

Steve watched as she bit her lip, trying to silence her moans and whimpers due to their being a third person in the car. “All for me baby?” he said surprised, his pressure and speed increased against her clit and he expertly slipped a second finger into her as he pulled her panties to the side.

“Mhmm all..all for you” Steve leaned back further and admired the hazy look on her face as she held back soft moans and whimpers. His thumb moved to gently pull her lip free, “let me hear you then sweetheart”. He soon slipped another finger into her dripping cunt and stretched her out for him.

“So tight baby” he hummed as he left kisses across her chest, one hand moving unbuckle her seatbelt before moving to tug herdress off of her shoulders. “Need to get you ready for my cock”. His lips found her nipple, sucking it gently while he worked his fingers inside her.

“Mmm Steve, feels so good…” her hips bucked against his hand as her walls clenched around his fingers. He felt her hand run down and slowly palm at his cock while he worked his fingers inside of her.

“Fuck” he mumbled, his cock twitching at the way she gripped him over his trousers.

Her breathy moans had him desperate to see her fall apart. “You gonna cum for me baby?” Steve's voice was low in her ear as he let out a deep groan at the way her hand held his clothed cock. His fingers had her eyes rolling back as the coil inside of her snapped and her orgasm took over her body.

Her hands moved to grip the edge of the seat as she coated his fingers in her cum. Steve smirked and watched as she slowly came down from her high. Her thighs trembled as her chest heaved slightly.

Her soft eyes fluttered open to the image of Steve seductively sucking her juices off of his fingers. Steve placed a few gentle kisses to her lips before a shocked cry left them. Steve’s hand had landed on her inner thigh with a harsh smack.

“Next time you wanna cum baby, you gotta ask for permission. Can you do that for me sweetheart hmm? Can you ask daddy to let you cum?” His voice was low as he gripped both of her cheeks, his features, while still soft, held a domineering glare and she felt her pussy flutter. She was desperate to be filled by him and that thought consumed her entirely.

Once she processed his words, the look of shock on her face was replaced by a look of need.

“Yes daddy”.

Her words came out muffled as she held onto his arms as he leaned down to place his lips onto hers once more.

“Good girl".

Y/n’s hand slowly trailed down Steve's chest and stopped just above the waistband of his trousers. She wanted to repay the favour and Steve saw the look of need that crossed her face as she innocently licked her lips and the thought of his cock.

“Can I?” she asked shyly. Steve turned to gaze out of the window, noticing they were close to his apartment, he placed a kiss on her head before moving to sit back on his seat, his hand pulling her dress down to where it was at the start of the journey.

“Soon, we’re almost there”.

Steve didn’t miss the slight look of rejection that crossed her features and pulled her over to rest on his lap. Her knees rested at either side of his thighs and she wrapped her arms around the top of his shoulders.

“Don’t look sad sweetheart, you’ll get my cock soon. Wanna take my time when I fuck you.” he mumbled as she leaned down to kiss him. Y/n began to roll her hips and her pussy fluttered at the feeling of his bulge grazing her clit.

A low groan sounded in Steve's chest as his hands helped to guide her hips over the top of him. His cock was rock hard after making her fall apart using his fingers and the feeling of her core grinding against him had him moaning into the kiss.

Y/n whimpered at the sounds he made. She was buzzing off of the feeling that it was her doing this to him. The man was at least 6’6 and built like a brick wall and she was the one to make him moan the way he was. The way he gripped her waist turned her on even more as he took control of her movements.

Steve had never felt more turned on in his life. He felt like he was a virgin again with how desperate he was for her contact. He was a moaning mess just from the way she rocked her hips against him - he wasn’t even inside of her and he felt himself getting closer to the edge.

Her head moved to rest against his shoulder as the pleasure started to build in her stomach once more at the stimulation her clit was feeling. Steve’s breathing was getting heavier and he tangled a hand in her hair. He tilted her head and let out a low groan beside her ear. “You’re gonna have to stop sweetheart before I cum in my pants”.

A lazy smirk crossed her lips as she moved to look down at him. A deep blush covered his cheeks and chest and she placed her hands on either of his cheeks before leaning down close to his lips.

“You got me all messy daddy, think it’s only fair if the same happens to you”, her lips brushed his before she grinded her hips against his at a more rushed pace.

Before Steve knew it he was cumming. His lack of self-control in this situation shocked him. He was always in control but fuck, it felt so fucking good. He groaned against her neck as thick ropes of cum coated his boxers and he moaned at the sight of the wet patch that formed on his pants where her pussy had been grinding.

“Fuck” he grumbled and looked up at her “what are you doing to me sweetheart”. She rested her forehead against his and let out a breathy giggle.

Steve looked out the window and noticed they were in the private garage of his apartment building and realised that Scott left the pair in the car alone. He didn’t know when he left but he was thankful to Scott for not interrupting them - maybe he could get a raise.

Steve helped y/n out of the car and they took the elevator up to the main apartment. Steve watched as she explored the downstairs of the apartment in awe and scolded himself for the way he was feeling.

But it was just one night of fun right?

He definitely wasn’t forming an attachment to the girl in front of him.

Or was he?

“C’mon you. Let’s get a shower before we have that night cap”.

Y/n twirled, her post orgasm haze still surrounding her as she padded over to where Steve was standing.

“Lead the way”.

Thank you for reading <3

Chapter three

Main Masterlist

Steve Masterlist

#mob!steve rogers smut #mob!steve rogers x innocent reader #mob!steve rogers series #mob!steve rogers #mob!steve rogers x reader #Steve Rogers smut #Steve Rogers x reader

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thewidowsledger · 1 month

Text

Good Luck, Babe

Pairings: College Student Natasha Romanoff x College Student Female Reader

Word count: 7.1k

Warnings: +18, smut, ANGST, jealousy, cheating (we're cheating on Steve with Natasha), Natasha has a penis, top!Natasha, bottom!reader, fingering (r receiving), dirty talk, car sex, mirror sex, hate sex (?), choking, slapping, dacryphilia, blowjob (Natasha receiving), breeding kink only if you dare to squint, Natasha fucking r like a guitar, if I missed something I am going to throw hands

Author's Note: I’ll be back in 3 weeks I guess, I already scheduled some chapters for my fics, one each week. For this week, I serve you this one-shot🤲💗 This is something I wrote when I was supposed to be studying, lol. The title says it all. I did not proofread this one and I decided to remove some parts because I feel like it's getting too long. I hope y’all are doing okay! Enjoy!

Navigation | Masterlist

⧗

“I realize I just wanted to stay home, have a quiet night in.”

“Oh, you intend to be quiet?”

You furrowed your brows at her question, “Yeah, why would I be loud?” You asked innocently, not aware of the redhead's innuendo, your back was facing her as you started to remove the heels you have been wearing.

“Well, if I am going to fuck someone’s girlfriend, I might want to hear her scream my name.”

⧗

You stirred from your sleep in the middle of the night, woken by the gentle sound of Natasha's snore. As you looked up at her, her auburn locks lay scattered, half-veiling her face in peaceful slumber. You gently pulled the strands aside, you admired the way her features were soft and unguarded in sleep as if she didn't drive you into the brink of ecstasy a while ago.

You watched, entranced, as the steady rise and fall of her chest painted a tranquil rhythm, like the gentle lapping of waves against the shore.

Her eyelashes fluttered softly, like fragile butterfly wings beating in the night.

Soft breaths escaped her lips and with each exhale, her warmth wrapped around you like a cozy blanket, enveloping you in comfort and security.

Your fingers traced the marks that marred her otherwise smooth skin. There were long, deep scratches on her back as you clawed to her dear life when she rammed into you, bringing you both to the peak of your own highs.

Unable to resist the urge, you leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her lips.

“I love you, Natasha.”

⧗

Natasha was behind the wheel of her convertible and you were riding shotgun. You both planned to get away before the graduation, a secret escape for just the two of you.

Yes, it was a secret escape, just like your clandestine affair. For the past year, you had been meeting secretly, your passionate trysts hidden away from the prying eyes around your campus.

How could one imagine that the epitome of perfection in the eyes of many, from students, professors, and school staff had chosen a band guitarist to share your deepest desires and secrets with?

The fact that you, the student body president of the College of Liberal Arts, the volleyball captain ball, the campus' debate team leader, and the devoted girlfriend of the campus’ student council Steve Rogers has been in an entangled affair with Natasha Romanoff, the school's band guitarist, was kept strictly under wraps.

Only a select few were aware of the tangled web you both were weaving behind the scenes. A few that only you, Natasha and her sister Yelena know about the affair that you’ve been keeping closely a guarded secret.

With your hands held high up in the air, you relished the feeling of the wind whipping through the open top of Natasha's convertible. The rush of air against your skin felt incredibly free and exhilarating.

As you stood there in the open wind, blissfully unaware, Natasha watched you intently, cherishing the unguarded moment between the two of you. Taking in every detail as she glanced at you the way your hair tousled in the breeze, the sparkle in your eyes as you smiled and the way your pink sundress fluttered in the wind. It was in these small moments, when she could watch you in your carefree state, where she could openly watch you and admire your carefree happiness without the need for secrecy or hiding.

Unlike when you were on campus Natasha could only watch you from a distance. Whether it was her playing with the band during a night blast events your campus would trimonthly organize, searching for your familiar face in the crowd, or her sitting in the audience far enough for her not to be seen by you, watching you shine in a debate competition you joined.

Just for once, it's only the two of you, completely unburdened by your secret affair.

“How did your send off go by the way?” Natasha asked, as she put her hands on your lower back.

“As usual, every player, even the new recruits had to spike a ball into me!” you rolled your eyes in the air. You glance at the redhead who is staring admiringly at you, you smile at her, biting your lip when she slowly dragged her hand all the way down to the curve of your ass.

“Two hands on the wheel, Romanoff.”

Natasha chuckled, tearing her right hand away from you, you slumped on the passenger seat as she did so, “And coach just told me that Bishop will be the next captain ball.”

“She's in the same position as you, right?” Natasha asked, now putting a hand over your thighs, unable to resist the temptation to touch you.

“During her residency coach had to train her as an opposite because we had filled the quota for each position. She was originally middle.”

Natasha hummed at your response. Her fingers can't help but stray, tracing patterns on your thighs. Her hands begin to move of their own accord, sneaking higher and higher up your thighs with every pass.

Her touch sends shivers down your spine, your breath hitching in your throat as her fingers make contact with your sensitive skin. You can't help but let out a soft moan, involuntarily arching towards her touch.

“Natasha,” you warned softly.

Her gaze flickers to yours innocently but she doesn't stop, her fingers continuing to trace patterns on your thighs, leaving a trail of heat in their wake, “What’s wrong?” She watches you carefully, her hands pausing in their ministrations as she waits for your response.

“Stop the car,” you demanded and she didn't hesitate. Her eyes flicker to the rear-view mirror, spotting an empty side street just ahead. She swings the car in that direction, pulling over and turning off the engine in record time.

She barely has time to register your movement before you're on her. Your legs straddling her, your body pressed close against hers as you take control of the situation. Her eyes widen in surprise, but then she grins, her hands coming up to grip your hips and pull you closer.

She trails kisses down your neck, softly nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin, careful not to make any marks even though she has been dying to mark you—to make you really hers.

Without warning, she thrusted her fingers deep inside you.

“Oh, Nat!” You cried in pleasure as she drove you higher and higher. Her fingers move faster, her thumb applying more pressure to your clit. She can feel you trembling, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

“I can't believe you didn't wear any panties baby,” she chuckled, “what if someone saw my pussy while you stood there in your seat huh?”

“I-I, I—”

“Close baby?” She smirked on your neck, she added another finger curling in your tight walls that made you gasp and buck harder towards her digits.

“Nat, I’m gon’, I’m gonna…” you trailed off, finally hitting the peak of your orgasm. You chased your own breath when Natasha pulled you into a deep kiss and you let her dominate you again as she pushed her tongue onto yours.

She smirked at you as she pulled away, “You always loved quickies, baby.” She teased, licking her digits that were coated with your arousal.

You hummed, placing your forehead on hers, “Because that's what only we can afford.” You said in a small voice, your breath fanning over her mouth.

“Not now though, we have all the time in the world.” Natasha replied as she stroked your cheek, the pain was evident in her voice as she spoke. You both never really had time alone inside the campus without prying eyes or suspicions of others. The only time you have is this, when you two would plan a night out every month or when Natasha would occasionally do late-night visits where she would sneak into your dorm and the two of you would spend the night making love to each other.

“That’s the thing, Nat. We’re on our way back to the world, the real world,” you kissed her neck all the way up to her jaw and to her lips. You eyed her and kissed her nose before moving away from her lap back to the passenger seat.

The drive to the campus’ dorm complex was quick just like the quickie you had half an hour ago. Natasha pulled the car to a quiet secluded area and got out of her car. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow?” Natasha asked as she opened the passenger door, you stepped out with your training bag that you brought with you.

“Steve will pick me up tomorrow,” you said as you looked at her, you placed a kiss on her cheek, “But I for sure will see you tomorrow, alright?”

You and Natasha had agreed upon certain rules during the course of your…affair and one of those rules was that you would never mention your boyfriend's name when she was present. In this moment, however, you inadvertently forgot about this rule and his name slipped from your lips without a second thought.

Natasha just concealed her jealousy and aching heart but when you softly leaned on her, your head comfortably resting on her shoulder it was quick to soothe her. She then asked, “You don't want me to accompany you upstairs?”

“I might not let you go if I let you come with me.” You confessed but the redhead knew this too. Your eyes, however, betrayed your hidden desires, silently pleading with her to disregard any resistance and come to the dorm with you.

“Baby, don't give me those eyes,” Natasha softly whined.

You chuckled and painfully tore yourself away from your secret lover, “Good night, Nat.”

⧗

It is Tony's tradition to host a party before the school year comes to a close and has become a much-anticipated event in your campus. But this year the party held a somber undertone as it marks the end of the journey for your entire batch. Tomorrow is your graduation day and everyone will finally embark on different paths. So this night will hold a memory for all of you as you hold a bittersweet celebration bidding farewell to school days and the journey you had together.

Your boyfriend, Steve, just picked you up at your dorm and as soon as you arrived at Tony's place, your eyes scanned the room, searching for a glimpse of your secret lover. Despite Steve's firm grip on your hand, your attention was elsewhere, the need of seeing your secret lover making your heart skip a beat. You tried to remain composed, pretending to engage in conversation with Steve.

“I finished my graduation speech, love,” he told you, his voice cutting through the loud party music. Your mind was preoccupied with searching for your secret lover and you only half-listened to his words, caught up in your own thoughts.

“What? Sorry baby,” you apologized, your attention finally shifting to him.

“I said,” he held both of your hands and pulled you closer to him, eager to pull you away from whatever is distracting you, “I just finished my graduation speech,” he whispered to your ear.

You smiled, reaching up to pinch Steve's cheek proudly, “My council president.” Eyes shining with pride and happiness for him—genuinely.

Steve is a quintessential all-rounder; a true gentleman who excelled academically and was a beacon for the students as he is the student council president.

He is a good boyfriend too. He was consistent in picking you up from your classes, walking you back to your dorm. You couldn't help but notice that he possessed a mildly possessive nature, because he seemed to want to keep you shielded, no, away from the outside world because your life just revolves around the campus, gym, organization faculty, and dorm and your boyfriend made sure of that.

Whenever you attended training, tune ups or participated in debates, Steve is always there, observing and sometimes engaging in your activities. He had a subtle ego, where he'd train you, play as your opponent during debates and literally break you, pushing you through your limits because he told you that he wants you to do good, do better—he wants you to win.

He doesn't want losers and he always wins and you knew that the day he won your “yes” when he asked you on a date—he always gets what he wants—he always wins and everytime you let him.

“Stop giving Y/N those blue gooey eyes, Rogers,” Tony's joke broke the moment between you and Steve as he offered drinks. “Lovebirds, drinks?” You cringe at his words, it doesn't feel right to you.

Steve accepted a cup for himself but when you were about to get one for yourself he swiftly interjected, shielding your hand away from the tray declining the offer on your behalf. You gave Tony a strained smile, “I’m good, Tony, thanks.”

How did you even bother to get one when he never lets you drink alcohol or engage in any activities he deemed unsuitable for himself when you were out together? You often felt trapped and restricted, as if you could never truly enjoy yourself when you’re with him. He constantly kept a watchful eye on you, ensuring your compliance to his rules—making you feel constantly monitored and controlled like right now you’re basically trapped and isolated in the corner, his towering body shielding you away from the crowd in the party.

Sure, he is a good boyfriend.

“Stop, fucking in the corner blondie!” You heard his friend Sam shout at the distance and Steve just gave him a finger but still facing you.

Steve is never the one who fucks around, he always maintained decency and in fact—he is a celibate and no one knew actually—just you. It was an agreement to the both of you when your relationship began which you completely agreed and respected but what he didn't know was that you were secretly breaking that agreement by satisfying your desires every night with your secret lover.

And your secret lover, concealed by the presence of others at the party, watched despite Steve's imposing frame blocking her view. She watched as you laughed at his words and planted a kiss on his cheek every now and then. She watched Steve as he wrapped your hands around his neck, you looked happy—too happy she thought, considering she knew the truth about your secret. And the secret in question? Is her.

She clenched her jaw as you placed a final, chaste kiss on Steve's cheek, she almost lost it when your boyfriend tried to attempt to kiss your mouth but you gently stopped him by placing a finger on his lips, keeping him at bay and chuckling slightly as you finally walked away from him and from the crowd of the party.

⧗

You managed to convince Steve that you could make it back to your dorm alone, insisting that you'd see each tomorrow at graduation rites. Steve begrudgingly agreed, though you could tell he really wanted to walk you back as he usually did.

As you walked back to your dorm complex in the chill of the night, the absence of your secret lover weighed heavily on you. You didn't see a glimpse of the redhead tonight, she was nowhere to be seen at the party, leaving you to wonder where she disappeared to.

You took a deep breath before opening the door of your dorm only to be greeted by none other than your secret lover who you have been looking for the whole night.

“Out early in the party huh?”

You bit your lip pretending to not be shocked by her presence, you forgot that she had duplicated your dorm key, “I realize I just wanted to stay home, have a quiet night in.”

“Oh, you intend to be quiet?”

“Well, if I am going to fuck someone’s girlfriend, I might want to hear her scream my name.” She stepped forward and grabbed your hips, you sucked in a little breath as she inhaled in your neck. “So tell me, will you be loud for me? Y/N? Will you…scream my name?” She husked, her breath warm against your skin.

You turned to her, green orbs dilated as you looked straight at her eyes.

“Don’t I?” You whispered in a very dangerous tone as you ran your thumb against her lips, “always,” you caressed her cheek and traced your fingers along her tense jawline, “scream your name?”

A growl ripped out through her, she immediately grabbed your hips and turned your back on her front. Her lips found your neck and she sucked and bit gently, leaving a faint mark. With a swift movement, you yelped a little as Natasha pulled your left leg up, causing your skimpy dress to roll up even further. Her hand instinctively went up to the back of your thigh, gripping it tightly.

You didn't notice that you were both facing your vanity mirror. Natasha's eyes darkened while yours widened as you looked at your reflection through the mirror. Natasha's right hand sneaks through your panties, finding its way to your core. She begins to rub gentle circles, causing you to gasp and lean back against her.

“Fuck!”

Natasha's left hand grips your thigh with the same precision and strength as when she holds her electric guitar during their gigs. Meanwhile, her right hand continues to strum your core like how she played a wild solo on her guitar.

She was the artist and you were the art.

“Oh yes, yes ah!”

Your moans fill the air, her fingers moving with a skilled rhythm that could make any musician jealous. To her, your moans and the sloppy sound of your pussy are like music to her ears, a symphony of pleasure that she herself is producing. Your moans crescendo, becoming louder and more frequent as she pushes her fingers in and out of you while her thumb continues to strum your clit. Your moans are like a song she is composing right this moment and the only lyrics is her name.

“Natasha!” You moaned out in pleasure.

Her breath hitches as she continues to pleasure you. She leans in close to your ear again, her voice a low purr. “Open your eyes and look in the mirror.”

You hazily opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was her smokey eyes filled with lust, desire, and pleasure. You then dragged your gaze down to her digits disappearing inside your cunt—the sight only brought you closer to the edge.

“C-cum—please let me cum,” you whined, a tear falling down your cheek. You can feel her lips curling into a predatory smile on your neck as she hears your plea. She doesn't respond with words, instead choosing to increase the tempo of her fingers.

“Only if you open those pretty eyes of yours and look at the mirror, detka.”

You squeezed your eyes shut before managing to open them again, looking straight at her through the mirror.

“Come and scream my name.”

“Oh f—fu—Natasha!”

You finally fall over, throwing your head back on her shoulder, a triumphant cry escaping your lips as she feels your body tremble against her. As the waves of pleasure subside, Natasha removes her fingers and you watch her in the mirror as she brings them to her lips, sucking them clean with a satisfied purr. She immediately catches your trembling body, still recovering from your orgasm, she then carries you into a bridal style and gently places you to the bed.

“I love you, Y/N.”

You hummed pulling her by her leather jacket, “Please stay, Natty.”

Natasha watches as your eyes flutter closed, she carefully extracts herself from your embrace, but you cling to her, your grip tightening on her jacket. Natasha pauses, her heart heavy in her chest as she looks down at your sleeping form. She knows she had planned to talk to you tonight, to finally come clean about her feelings, but now that the moment is here, she can't just bring herself to wake you up.

She takes a deep breath, her fingers gently brushing a strand of hair out of your face. She remembers the first time she saw you, how easy it was to slip into her role as a recluse and simply observe. You were the most popular student on campus, an achiever, the captain ball, always surrounded by a group of admirers. It made it all too easy to keep her feelings under wraps. That's why she couldn't believe the moment her sister told her that you wanted to meet her and it ended up with you in her car, begging her to let you come.

It wasn't long before things took a turn. You would find yourself asking her to come to your dorm after your classes were over, even if Natasha’s class isn't, she would immediately have an early out just to go to you only for the two of you to spend the night relentlessly fucking each other until neither of you could move anymore.

One time her sister brought her to your game. And she saw you struggling to keep up with the rest of your team—having a bad day to play. She watched you go to Steve and how he threw you your towel and handed you your tumbler being the supportive boyfriend that everyone thinks he is when he is acting like an entitled self-proclaimed coach just watching you, not even cheering or hyping you up.

And before she knew it, when you walked towards where she sat during the game completely shocked at her presence, she leaned enough for everyone not to notice—she offered to fuck you as a reward if ever you win the game. Only if she knew that you have a game, she would bring everything she thinks you might need, she’ll bring you a jug of water, different colors of kinesiology tape, hell, she would buy you new shoes. But right now motivation is all she can offer because it's too high of a risk if she did all these things.

It was the first time she had seen you play because it was one of your rules, for her not to show up whenever you're in a competition, games, tune ups or in an event organized by you or your organization. You had explained to her that you preferred to keep things hidden, no, low-key, to avoid attracting unwanted attention that could arise from others noticing the two of you. She agreed, not even thinking a bit of it because she wanted you safe as you hold a lot of titles in you. She doesn't want to ruin your image though it breaks her heart not being able to watch you win and be successful in each game or competition.

Would that still be important if after you win it was her you would spend the night with where she’ll see you in all your glory as she makes you feel like a champion once more?

At first, keeping your affair a secret had been easy. It was a necessary precaution, one that she understood and respected. But as time went on, Natasha found herself yearning for more.

Sometimes she wishes she would be the one you’re running to after you won a game. She wanted to be able to cheer you on from the sidelines as you won game after game, competition after competition, events after events. She wanted to be there every time you win and every moment of loss—she’ll be there no matter what.

But that will happen anymore, Natasha could already feel the weight of the unknown future bearing down on her. This was it, the moment she had both been looking forward to and dreading. You two are graduating tomorrow, new chapters, new beginnings and things aren't still settled for the both of you, you never opened up, you never told her where you stood in this…clandestine affair.

And that made her want you more. She yearned to be by your side, proudly and openly. She craved for the day when she didn't have to hide her feelings for you or keep her presence a secret. She hoped for the day when she could stand beside you, not as a shadow, not a secret but as a partner—your lover.

Is that too much to ask for?

⧗

The sun was beating down on the graduates and their families, sweat glistening on their foreheads as they chatted and laughed, snapping pictures and the students—graduates hugged each other tightly, tears streaming down their faces as they said their goodbyes.

Natasha's eyes frantically searched for you. Her heart pounded in her chest as she clutched her trencher, every second feeling like an eternity as she scanned the sea of faces—and there you were standing with Steve and she assumed his family—deep in conversation and laughter.

In the midst of the chaotic crowd around you, both of your gazes met and everything else faded away—it felt like the whole world stopped and it’s just the two of you.

You snapped back to reality as Steve pulled you into a warm embrace and kissed the side of your head, his family looking on with teasing grins. But you couldn't help but feel a twinge of cringe because you knew Natasha was watching all this happen.

“Love, I’ll just go see my friends and Mom.” You said, pulling back from Steve’s suffocating embrace. You gave him a small convincing smile as you tried to get yourself away from the situation.

When he nodded you immediately excused yourself to his family and ran towards the direction where you last saw the redhead. Before you could even go away there was a hand who stopped you from walking-running, you gasped as warm and strong arms pulled you into embrace—not a suffocating one.

“Hey beautiful.”

“Nat.” You sighed, leaning closer to her. Her scent envelopes your senses.

You were suddenly jolted back into reality, and swiftly disentangled yourself from Natasha's embrace. You could see the pain flickering in Natasha's eyes as you retreated hastily. You despised yourself for causing her this, yet you couldn't explain your actions just yet. It wasn't that you didn't care for her—quite the opposite, but the fear of exposure and being not accepted prevented you from being out with her freely.

How you wished you could tell her that.

“Y/N, I need to talk to you.”

“Nat, I need to find mom, we…” you trailed off, unsure on how to tell her, “we’re gonna have lunch with Steve’s family.”

Nat's eyes searched your face, sensing the turmoil within you. She seemed to want to say something but held back, her silent gaze speaking volumes. You didn't miss the flash of disappointment in her eyes and the sorrow etched on her face. You were all too familiar with this. So, you swiftly reassured her, placing a gentle hand against her cheek, silently begging her to focus on you.

“Nat, don't forget our week-long plans,” you reminded her softly, your thumb tenderly caressing her cheek. “I’ll be all yours, just you and me.”

Natasha despised how effortlessly you could coax her, and yet, she surrendered willingly as she always did—her love for you overriding all the resistance. Every time you whispered sweet reassurances and gave a comforting touch, she melted, her resolve crumbling effortlessly.

She could never say no to you.

Just as you were about to lean in to steal a kiss from Natasha, a sharp call of your name pierced through the air.

“Y/N.”

You turned around to see your mother watching the two of you, “Mama…”

How you wished she didn't see you lean in for Natasha and to alleviate the awkwardness, you introduce them both to each other.

Nervously, you began, your voice quivering slightly, “Mom, this is Nat…” you trailed off, unsure on how to introduce your lover because you cannot just introduce her as your lover yet since your mom knew about Steve and ‘friend’ just didn't seem adequate to describe what you shared with Natasha, not if you both know what each other tasted like. The thing between you and Natasha was too complex, too dangerous, too intense to be boxed into a single label.

You looked towards Natasha, offering a strained smile, silently begging her to make a good impression. Your mother was known for being judgmental at times, and the last thing you wanted was for her to disapprove of the person dearest to you.

Natasha took the initiative, greeting your mom, “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Y/L/N,” and she extended a hand. However, your mom's gaze remained fixed, her eyes honed in on the intertwined fingers of your hands with redhead. The subtle gesture didn't escape your mom's keen eyes.

Sensing your mom's penetrating stare, you quickly withdrew your hand from Natasha, creating a bit of distance between the two of you. Your mother seemed lost in thought for a moment before snapping back to reality and reaching out to shake Natasha's hand.

“Congratulations.” She greeted with her unreadable expression and the redhead gave her a warm smile and thanked her.

“Steve and his family are waiting for us.”

You nod, acknowledging your mom's reminder before she started walking away. You turned towards Natasha and you found her looking down, she then handed you a box and whispered, “You should go.”

Despite the aching in your chest, you managed a feeble smile, holding the box she had handed you. It is a necklace with a guitar pendant similar with the electric guitar she's using during her gigs, “It's beautiful.”

No reply came out from the redhead and her silence is making you hard to leave, you longed to remain here—to embrace her. Your heart clenched in your chest as you attempted to suppress the tears threatening to spill, “I'll see you, Nat. Okay?”

Natasha stood there, her eyes fixated on you as you walked away. A soft whisper escaped her lips, lost in the air, wishing that these words are enough to make you stay.

“I love you.”

⧗

Two months had crept by since your graduation day and the affair with Natasha remained a secretive yet constant part of your life. The thrill and passion you shared with her continued to burn brightly, with neither of you daring to mention the status of the affair. The question of what it meant would remain locked away, hidden beneath layers of secrecy.

Not until you kept another secret from your secret lover herself.

“So when are you going to tell me about it?” Natasha's voice was cold as she cut through the silence, her anger barely contained.

You froze under her intense gaze, your body shaking as you fought back tears.

“I...I'm sorry,” you whispered.

Shaking her head, Natasha continued, her eyes flickering with hurt and anger. “Engaged? And you didn’t tell me?”

Your tears finally cascaded down your face as you relived the memories of four days ago, when Steve had proposed to you. How could you say no? He decided to propose to you in front of his parents and your mother. And the sickening weight of expectations and the pressure of you saying yes to him had overwhelmed you causing you to yield without hesitation.

Natasha had learned about the proposal from Steve himself and he had even made a joke about her reuniting with the campus band and playing at your wedding.

It was no secret because you were planning to tell her, of course you are, you were just looking for the right time but when she showed up at your apartment minutes ago, her intoxication evident in her glassy eyes and the strong smell of alcohol that hung heavy got to her, you knew—but you didn't know that it came from your fiance himself.

Natasha's voice cracked in anger and despair, “I did everything you wanted! I followed your rules, your demands. I stayed away when you asked, I played along to keep our…fuck!” She suddenly broke off, a bitter laugh escaping her lips as she wiped the tears trickling down her cheeks. “Relationship isn't even the right word. We're not even a couple, right?”

“Stupid,” she chuckled, “stupid! stupid, stupid!” Natasha unleashed a punch to each word, slamming into the wall next to her. You flinched and fought the urge to soothe her but she turned to you, tears streaming down her face.

“I played along to…” she choked back a sob, “to keep you!” She spat, pointing a finger on you.

Maybe it was too much to ask for.

Her words hit you like a knife to the heart, causing you to physically flinch. Your tears welled up and fell uncontrollably, your whole body quivering with sobs as you struggled to hold yourself together.

“Sorry.”

Your heart was heavy with guilt for causing Natasha so much pain. The single word didn't seem enough to fix the hurt you had done, but it was all you could manage in this moment.

“I just wan…” she breathed, “I just want you to be mine.”

“I am yours, Natasha.” You managed to immediately say between sobs, placing your palm over your chest emphasizing each word.

“Are you?” Her brows knit together, “with that ring on your finger?”

Natasha approached you and with every inch she advanced, you slowly retreated, your body moving back in response to her encroaching presence. Natasha finally stood close, her body towering over you. You could feel the heat of her breath on your skin, infused with the strong scent of alcohol. Her chest rose and fell with each heavy breath she took.

“Y/N you were never mine to begin with and I had to live up with that.”

You were looking away from her, arms wrapped tightly around yourself in a protective manner. Natasha's fingers gently guided your chin, tilting your head up to meet her eyes. Her touch was electrifying as she slid her fingers down to your arm, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

“I chose to live up with that.”

Her movements were slow and deliberate as she took your engagement ring off your finger and examined it before letting it bounce to the carpet of your bedroom.

“Engaged, hm?” Natasha smirked, the pads of her thumb wiping the tears running down your cheek, “did you let Steve finally fuck you after you said yes to him?”

You breath hitched at the question but you immediately shook your head sideways, her hands slipped at the back of your neck and hissed.

“I am the only one who can make you say yes over and over again.”

“Natasha, y-you’re drunk,” you stuttered, you would never deny the redhead but you feel uncertain and scared around her right now.

She heard you but she didn't care, she then pulled you into a bruising kiss. Her lips were cold and demanding, silencing any further protests. She held the back of your neck tightly, “Shut up.”

She walked you backwards as she kissed you, the kisses becoming sloppy with each step. You felt the edge of the bed against the back of your knees and as she kissed you deeply, you slowly sank down onto the mattress.

“Lie down.”

“Nat, please…we can talk late—” you were cut short when she shoved her forefinger in your mouth. She watched as you squeezed your eyes shut, finally giving up, your lips sucking gently around her finger.

You chased her finger when she removed it out your mouth then your gaze went down as she moved to remove her belt. Her movements were deliberate as she undid the buckle and pulled it from the loops of her pants, causing them to fall open with her boxers.

Natasha's hand wrapped around a fistful of your hair, harshly tugging your head forward and forcing you to kneel in front of her. Your hands instinctively held her the back of her legs for support, her length inches on your faces as if you knew what to do, your hands slowly reached out to touch her. You wrapped your fingers around her shaft, feeling its thickness and hardness, your thumb rubbing the tip with the pre-cum that covered it.

“Open your mouth,” she plainly said, a command rather than a request. Your lips parted slowly and without a second she pushed forward, easing herself into your mouth. Natasha's expression hardened as she gripped your hair, her hips bucking forward aggressively. She thrust into your mouth without remorse, tears welled in your eyes, but she remained unmoved, solely focused on her own pleasure.

She fucked your mouth ruthlessly, her thighs trembling with the force of her movements. Your nose was pressed against her pelvis, your eyes watering from the rough treatment. The only sound was the sloppy wet noises of her thrusting and your muffled cries.

Natasha was one to fight her moans and grunts back, but she was unable to hold them as she unleashed a thick, hot load directly into your mouth. The force of her orgasm sent ropes of cum shooting down your throat, making you choke and gag on the sheer volume.

In a sudden move, Natasha yanked you up by your hair, her cock slipping out of your mouth with an audible pop. She took a step back, leaving you panting and disoriented, your mouth agape, tears falling down your cheek, spit on the side of your lips and her cum inside you mouth. She reached down and yanked your hair again, forcing you to look up at her. She spat into your open mouth, watching as the saliva mingled with her cum.

“Swallow.”

She squeezed your chin, applying pressure until your throat opened up. You looked straight into her eyes, you felt the lump of cum and spit lodge in your mouth, and then you swallowed the liquid sliding down your throat.

Natasha released her hold on your chin and hair, her voice taking on a dismissive tone. “Bed,” she ordered, turning away from you to clean herself up. You scrambled to your feet, quickly making your way to the bed, the sheets cool against your heated skin.

Natasha hovered on top of you, you tried looking into her bloodshot eyes but you couldn't see anything. You couldn't see her. Her eyes didn't sparkle the way it did when you two were making love…is this even making love?

You wanted to make it up to her, you wanted her to use you for what you did to her. For hurting her, it is all that you could do as of now—it’s all that you could offer. But you wanted her to talk to you through it like she always had, but right now she doesn't seem to care about what you need.

Natasha locked her knees on yours, her thighs squeezing tight to keep you pinned in place. She surged forward, burying her face in the crook of your neck. You could smell the alcohol on her breath as she trailed kisses down your body. She then nipped at your skin, her teeth sinking in hard enough to leave bruises. Right now, she didn't care. In fact, she wanted you to be marked, marked by her and not by your stupid fiance.

“N-Nat…Steve might com—” before you could even finish your sentence, Natasha slapped you hard across the face, the sting making your eyes water.

“Don't fucking say his name when you're underneath me,” she snarled and as if losing her patience she harshly pulled you by your thighs towards her. Without giving you a chance to protest, Natasha thrust into your core with a ferocity you hadn't expected. You could feel yourself stretching around her, each movement of her hips sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.

Natasha folded your thighs towards your chest, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the room. You eyed her, tears ready to fall down as she fucked you with reckless abandon. She was like a different person, all rough edges and sharp angles, her usually composed, sweet, and caring nature replaced by a harsh, uncaring desire. Her usually gentle features were twisted into a snarl, her eyes cold and hard, lacking the warmth and spark that usually dwelled within them.

You couldn't help but wince as she thrust into you again and again, the pain dulling the pleasure, yet you let her continue. Your hands gripped the sheets tightly as you bit back a moan, your mouth agape in a silent scream as she took what she wanted.

You

You tried to claw her back, but she was too quick for you. She wiggled and before you knew it, she had gripped both of your hands on her own, pinning them above your head. She didn't want you to touch her and the realization stung.

She then suckled your tits hard, biting and pulling on them until you cried out in pain and pleasure. The rough treatment and seeing you in pain seemed to turn her on more, and she then continued to abuse your sensitive breasts.

“Say you're mine,” at least just this moment.

“Natasha, I’m yours, I’m yours.” You moaned reassuringly—guinely and you wanted her to see it, to feel it. “I—I'm yours, I'm you...yours,” you breathe, having a hard time to utter a word as she rammed into you.

Natasha's eyes become glossy again, she shook her head sideways as if she's trying to remove what you just said in her head that is now finally ingrained, she asked you to say it, of course you would say it back, but it sounded real and she hated it.

“You're not,” she slurred, “but I am going to make you.”

Natasha’s grunts grew louder, more primal as she neared her peak. Her face contorted, eyes screwed shut, and her movements became jerky, uncoordinated. She touched your lower abdomen to feel her cock bulging in and out. She was close, so close, and you could do nothing but lie helpless beneath her, tears leaving a trail on your cheeks as she held you down and used your body.

She finally let out a guttural growl, her body spasming as she emptied herself inside of you.

At least in this way she could make you really hers.

You jolted awake from the dream as the sound of your baby's cry made you alarmed. It's an instinct that you developed since you had your baby, whatever sound she made you'll be quick to get or coo her, doesn't matter if you're in the shower, cooking or asleep.

You slowly sat in the bed, wiping the sweat that glistened on your neck. You breathed in and out to calm yourself. It was a dream, just a dream, you're not new to it, it's same dream you always dream. It did happen but it never failed to visit—haunt you even in your sleep.

It was a dream but what you're living right now is a nightmare.

You looked over at Steve's body, deep in slumber beside you, the sight of him only causing a lump to form in your throat. The tears began to well up in your eyes, and you quickly looked away, unable to bear the ache and guilt any longer.

You quietly moved away from the bed, the sound of your baby's cries growing louder with every step you took. Your heart swelled as you reached the crib, carefully picking up your child and cradling her in your arms. You gently shushed your baby, cooing softly as you fixed the red hair that had become mussed during her sleep, her little face scrunched up as she wailed.

“Shh, mommy's here.” You whispered as you blinked rapidly, trying to clear your vision to fight back your own tears.

As if she was actually listening to you, her cries became silent as her small chubby hand reached up, her fingers wrapping around the delicate chain of your necklace. She tugged gently and your heart skipped a beat as she pulled the guitar dangle free, holding it in her tiny grasp.

You gently rocked your baby, cooing soft lullaby as you tried to soothe her back to sleep. But as you looked down at her, her green orbs shimmering with unshed tears was looking innocently straight at you. Your heart shattered at the sight and the tears you'd been holding back began to fall, softly dripping onto your baby's soft skin.

“I love you, little one.”

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