#captainsweeklychallenge

[writerwrites]

Will You Hold On My Love

Pairing: Frank Adler x Reader

Summary: You were supposed to be his rebound and you were supposed to go it alone, so why are you both holding on for dear life?

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Mentions of death and sex but neither are written in. Cancer, general sads and fluff. Really, it’s just a fic about two people wanting nice things and life being life, so take that as you will.

A/N: *THIS IS A ONE SHOT* This is the Week 5 prompt to the Optimistic Captain Donut Challenge [due a decade ago oops] created by @captainchrisbaby​​, @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho​​ , and @donutloverxo​​ … The Week 5 Prompt was based on the gif below and Where Do Lovers Go by Ghostly Kisses | Dividers by the talented @whimsicalrogers​​

You’d met at tipping points in a bar, one drink in a piece.

Frank and Bonnie were done, the whole town knew about it except you. You were minding your own business really, you had your own problems and the last thing you needed was it spread all over town like the half-dozen sob stories tied to the Adler family. Everyone had problems, some more than others, and you’d been determined to be an empathetic decent human being the first time someone tried to spread Frank’s business into your general direction. It was your innate ability to gently veer a conversation away from drama that had made you pleasantly forgettable to every friend group you were a part of. It also happened to be the reason you were sat in a drab local bar on a Thursday evening spending an obnoxious amount of quarters to play Sonnet by The Verve on repeat like you could convince the whole three people in there that your favorite band was more than a one hit wonder. Then he sat next to you and everything changed...

“If you play it one more time, then you owe me a drink.” Frank Adler, who hadn’t spoken to you since grade school, now sat next to you in the bar at the edge of town. You watched him pick up a quarter, spinning it with his thumb and pointer, and watching it spin and stop before repeating two more times before the song repeated, “All right, you owe me a Guinness.”

With a nod to the bartender, you held up two fingers and he did just that. As you brought the beer to your lips, you hummed the song and he watched you with the slightest curve to his lips. “What? Can’t a girl play a song on repeat to get it out of her head?”

“Oh? Is that what you’re doing?” He tilted the bottle back, the tone one of obvious doubt. “I thought people were supposed to reserve that sort of behavior to their bathrooms with a bottle of wine?”

Somehow you couldn’t bring yourself to lie to him, already smiling a little as you pretended to take offense. Frank was right, most people kept that depressing blubbering to themselves, but you knew that with the news you’d gotten the last thing you should be doing tonight was sitting alone. “Nope, but did you really come in here tonight to listen to a stranger’s problems or did you come to forget your own.”

“Touché.” You followed his lead, chugging back your drinks and slamming them to the sticky bartop. He slipped off the stool and tossed a few bills to the counter, no pretense, and you did the same, albeit with a little less grace in your descent. With a nod of appreciation to the bartender before grabbing your things, you followed the tall blonde out of the bar and tried to ignore the knowing glances from the few patrons left behind. It wasn’t until the crisp autumn air nipped at your ears that Frank spoke again. “You’re not a stranger. I remember you from school.”

“Well, neither of us are who we used to be. Safer to assume we’re stranger-adjacent then. As The Verve would say, All this talk of getting old, it’s getting me down…” You winked and he shook his head. “How many are you in? Are you good to drive?” His shrug left you unconvinced. “I’m a Bud Light and Guinness in- on a whole dinner, so I’m fine. I’ll drive.”

Frank’s stormy blue eyes glanced toward his truck and he pursed his lips before rocking on his heels and following you, hands in the pockets of his jeans as he followed you. There was a sense of relief in not having to bicker with a man about the subject. You didn’t know that it was his every intention to stick to his usual coping strategy: easy lay, slipping out with Mary as an excuse the second the sex was over. Frank Adler had mastered the art of escape and now that Mary was thirteen and more than capable of handling herself, those escapes typically led right back to another bar. It wasn’t actually about being there for Mary, it was about feeling something, even if it was temporary. Somehow, in some cavern in the back of both of your minds, in the comfortable silence of the car ride where he reached over and surprised you by taking your hand in his, there seemed to be some unspoken decision to not make a mess of this.

God, you wanted to tell him. When you woke up to him fast asleep, long lashes casting small shadows on his sun kissed cheekbones as the late morning light licked at his skin through your bedroom window. His chest pressed close into your side, his legs tangled in yours, and his calloused fingers stretched across the expanse of your ribs like you were something small when in reality he simply dwarfed you. This stung, the ache to wake him up and be as honest as the pair of you had been last night. He’d put you on a pedestal and worshiped you. You’d called out his name and praised him as he gave you everything you asked for. Your skin covered in goosebumps just thinking about the night you two had shared and how scared you were for wanting more of it. Bottle it up and enjoy the moment, you told yourself in misery, scrunching your eyes shut and pinching your nose with the hand that had been absentmindedly stroking his dark blonde hair.

It was that withdrawal of your warmth that woken Frank up from the deepest sleep he’d had in the weeks since his breakup. Mornings had been the hardest for him because he’d gotten used to Bonnie’s dark curls draped across his pillow. It was harder still when Bonnie’s side of the bed no longer smelled of her. It was Mary’s logic that had pulled him out of the breakup stupor, but it hadn’t stopped Frank from falling into some old promiscuous habits. At least he’d thought he’d tapered off and found some routine in the monotony of distractions and the routine of a quick slip out. Now as his steely blue-gray eyes opened there was a brief moment of panic that followed that sleepy cling for the body he’d been holding.

Two months later and it all seemed too pleasant and rushed, too crazy to ruin. Yet you knew this was what it was, you making the most of the final moments and Frank getting over an ex. You knew it because you reminded yourself of that every time you caught yourself smiling over the little things because if you were really being honest with yourself it was two months of selfishness. Now, as you and Mary were making pancakes together while Frank laid out under the sink repairing the disposal, it was Mary that cornered the two of you. It happened with a bang- literally. “So, is this a grown up thing to not call each other boyfriend and girlfriend or are you two just being weirdos?”

The bag of flour slipped from your hands and clocked Frank right in his package causing his body to lurch forward and his head to hit every surface under the sink. As he groaned in pain, you tried to form the ‘right’ words, knowing that there weren’t any. “Oh, we’ve never been on an actual date…” Your words were slow, drawn out and delicate as you cautiously picked up the flour. Tapping his thigh with your foot you looked at the body of the man who’d given you a slice of happiness you didn’t expect to find in a bar and certainly didn’t feel like you deserved. “You okay down there?”

In usual form, he emerged covered in grease and grime, wiping his hands on a dingy old handkerchief that had been tucked in his pocket. He looked at you after wiping the sweat from his forehead onto his forearm and then over to Mary who stood akimbo. “Is this a setup?”

Mary crossed her arms, a stern look that you’d seen on Frank only a few times but found it completely recognizable and amusing. You pressed you lips into a line . “I didn’t think it needed to be.”

If you hadn’t been guilt stricken then you would’ve laughed at the tone of her voice bordering an abuelita waving a chancla. Instead, you watched him get up with his beautiful eyes watching you the whole way up. “Frank, you don’t have to say anything. I’m happy with this, just as it is.” You glanced at Mary, her arms still crossed, her expression wholly unconvinced. “I… I don’t want to be held responsible for anyone getting hurt.” The confused expression on Frank’s face was fleeting, maybe it wasn’t confusion or a twinge of hurt, but it made you try to rephrase yourself, trying to play it up in a sweet way and trying to convince him that this was about you- not him or Mary. “I can’t have anyone falling in love with me.”

The last thing you expected to hear was for Mary to snark out a defiant, “Too late for that.”

You told yourself you had to pick up your jaw, but you couldn’t because Frank was looking at you with that face he made when he woke up next to you… your favorite face. The crooked smile that was almost boyish and the crinkled eyes that you swore were just age and tiredness, but now you knew the truth, it was something else, something more. Your heart was racing, your mouth went dry and you tried to form the words of warning as your legs gave out beneath you and you collapsed into Frank’s arms.

Time was a funny thing, spinning in and out of consciousness you caught conversations and yet couldn’t recall which order they’d happened or where they were happening, nor could you discern how long the vast nothingness between those glimmers of consciousness seemed to be.

The first seemed obvious, sinking into your bones like the cancer that consumed you. The pain of Frank’s voice as he tried to throttle you awake. The timbre of his voice shifting from teasing amusement to legitimate worry. You could still feel his warm calloused hands on your cheeks followed by the cool droplets of water he’d splashed on you to try and wake you up. It worked just enough for you to say, “No doctors.”

Secrets seemed to unravel from there as you faded in and out, coming round to hear the beeping of machines or a man racked with heavy sobs. There was some relief in being a familiar face in this small town’s hospital. The familiar voice of your oncologist telling Frank that rules meant Frank couldn’t be told anything but that he could stay. Mary came and went, too. It was her small hands braiding your hair that woke you up on an early afternoon. The blinds were pulled wide open and your dry lips cracked as you smiled and tried to talk. “You look like an angel with all that snow behind you.”

Mary perked up at the sound of your voice and she leaned over your shoulder and rested her cheek against yours as she looked where you were. “It’s not real, it’s left over Christmas decorations. I wanted you to have a Winter Wonderland. It was so boring here. Hold on!”

You wondered if she’s had conversations with you while she’d waited for you to wake up or if you’d only been out a day or two because she seemed so unbothered by you forming your first words in what you would soon learn were three weeks. Mary pulled the blinds closed and climbed over a bench that had blankets and pillows folded on the end, a clear indication that Frank had been there with you for at least a night. When Mary emerged the room twinkled with fairy lights. “Wow, Mary! I love it so much.” You blinked away the fresh sting of tears. “Aren’t you a thoughtful angel.”

“I wanted it to be nice for you and Frank when you two picked up your last conversation.” A little wicked smirk drew across her lips and you waved her over to the bed and patted the blanket. Her smile fell just a little as she picked at the chipped nail polish on her fingers. “He told me not to look at the charts and the board or the machines, but I did and then I asked a teacher about what I found on Google and…” She let out a long, weary sigh. “I think you two still need to tell each other the truth.”

It seemed right, like you owed Frank an explanation, but the reality of the situation was that when you got your post-treatment update you’d not even uttered this truth to yourself. It was just something tucked in your head, a bomb, slowly ticking away. Frank walked in, purple bags of exhaustion around his eyes, and he still lit up the room with a smile the second he saw you were awake. His long legs took just a couple of steps and he was next to you on the hospital bed. Mary took the snacks from his hands and slipped out of the room, shutting the door behind her and you had no doubt that she was already standing guard outside it. Wasting no time, you tried to apologize to him, “Frank, I want to say that I’m so-” Your heart ached with the regret of keeping this secret from him.

His lips crashed to yours before you could finish, absolutely no regard to the chalky taste of sleep on your mouth. When pulled away satisfied, Frank hushed you just millimeters from lips before going back in for another softer kiss- the familiar kind he’d taken to sneaking in when he walked past you from one room to the next. “Tell me the truth. Tell me it’ll be all right.”

This was exactly what you didn’t want, someone begging for you to give them what you knew you couldn’t. Your hands covered his as he desperately held your face and your eyes fell to his lips and the scruff along his jaw as you found yourself debilitated by his hopefulness. To say you were incapable of meeting those bright blue eyes without falling apart was an understatement. Your small fingers brushed across the familiar scars and calluses on his hands as you tried to think of the right thing to say. “I think we got our ‘all right’ already, Adler. I wish it could give you more, but I really stayed for you and Mary, so selfishly, for as long as I could.”

“I read the chart,” Frank swallowed, but you heard the tension tight in his throat as he tried to keep his voice even, “No one would tell me anything and I didn’t know what else to do just sitting here waiting for you to come back to me.” That sense of ownership surprised you, not because you didn’t want it, but because you’d been alone for so long… well before you got sick. As you cleared your throat to try and speak, he kept going. “You somehow made it longer than they thought, didn’t you? That’s why they were running so many tests, isn’t it?” Keeping your eyes from his, you didn’t need to look at him to know that Frank wasn’t necessarily asking you for answers. “Maybe that means you’re healthier than they realized and they could put you in a trial?”

“Frank, I’ve been right here the whole time.” Instead of focusing on the future, you focused on the present. Attempting to reassure him, you turned your cheek into his palm and placed a soft kiss there. This level of affection had been strictly reserved for sleepy mornings and movie nights, they’d become your favorite memories. “I felt everything, even heard you sometimes…” Resting your head into the curve of his neck, you ignored the painful tug of wires and tubes as he held you close. “I wanted to tell you, but I thought it would be over by now.” The ‘it’ wasn’t just the one night stand that had turned into feelings at about the same rate your cancer had come back, no you thought you would’ve passed on by now. The truth, it was what stuck in your head and kept you frozen there tucked in his arms, but he wanted more and you knew Frank deserved it. So, when Frank tugged gently on your shoulders and tilted your chin up, you mustered up the courage to not only speak but to meet his gaze. “A month, that was all I was supposed to get the night I tortured you with The Verve in our bar.”

To your surprise Frank listened without interrupting or asking a single question and it helped you explain yourself, why you never talked about this because, as you two crossed from strangers to friends, you knew he didn’t deserve the pain. Those secrets that were whispered about him around town that you had shut out were shared, with time, on his own. Frank had no idea that in those quiet back and forth exchanges that you had held in the one thing that would change everything. “You could’ve told me. I’m not mad… I just want to understand.”

The truth, the weight you carried in silence. The truth, it poured from you now, albeit unwillingly, and you hoped he wouldn’t carry it for you. Maybe a part of you knew he would because that’s what he always did. You’d never met another person so selfless. When you wondered if he understood, wondered if he knew just how stolen their time was, you bit into your lip and tried to explain it one more time. “I got lucky, but this is it, Adler. I was the walking definition of terminal lucidity and, God, I’m thankful I got my rally with you.” Just stringing along those words, the explanation, you were breathless. “I’m not walking out of this hospital.”

As you watched the painful reality set in, you also watched Frank’s jaw tighten. “If you really want to get out of here, if you don’t want to die in this room, will you do me one thing?” Confused, you nodded, feeling like you owed him but weary of what he’d ask. Frank smiled softly, only furthering your worry that he’d bring up a trial again. “I want you to come home with Mary and I.”

Hesitation laced his name as you shook your head ‘no’, repeating it over, “Frank, no. I can’t put that on you and Mary.” There wasn’t much space to pull away, your weak frame falling back onto the stiff mattress of the hospital bed.

“You already promised and I don’t think we have enough time for the kind of promises I would’ve liked to make.” Frank reached out and brushed a strand of hair from your face, even in that moment looking somewhat mischievous.

“Oh yeah, and what were those plans?” You closed your eyes, tired and curious, but not wanting to look at him and be upset by the mutual stubbornness both of you bore.

“‘Til death do we part.” His warm breath hovered over your face and you scrunched your nose at his dark humor, but he wasn’t laughing. You opened your eyes to find him looking at you with an expression of impatience, “I mean it, come home and let me love you for whatever time we’ve got left.”

“Say it again.” You sighed, processing what he’d said and wondering if he’d meant it.

“Come home.”

Reaching out, you playfully nudged his shoulder. “No, the other bit.”

Looking into each other’s eyes, you wondered if the word had slipped from his lips by mistake, but that mischievous smile reached his eyes and Frank leaned in, his lips brushing yours as he said it one more time with confidence, “I love you.”

It wasn’t easy for the doctors, who knew you so well, to let you leave their care. Just like it wasn’t easy for you to give up your dwindling independence or to let Frank and Mary take care of you when you knew you’d brought death to their home. But nothing seemed to change with them, they forgave you for your secret and kept on with the silly breakfasts and morning cuddles; the popcorn at the home cinema nights. Mary kept you close, shared everything with you and listened to any story you were willing to tell. Frank held you together as you fell apart, carrying you from room to room so that you could still enjoy the silly things you’d been enjoying together all along. That was the only change, you becoming weak, fading from them. Neither of you became truth-spilling emotional lovers or bitter about the end. No, he wouldn’t leave you with that last memory. Instead, he put on some music and sat by your side, whispering a vow of love that was more than some overpriced ceremony and a piece of paper could provide. And when you were gone, you never really were. A person the world should have forgotten, tucked away and carried in two hearts long after you departed this world.

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All Content: @tom-hlover​​  @marvelouslytrekking​​  @rockyrogers​​

Chris Evans Related Content: @inlovewithfictionalcharacters​​​ 

[marvelousell]

You only

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female reader

Summary: Two different sides that Steve owns with his girl

Word count: 693

Warnings: SMUT 18+, spanking, chocking, dirty talk, unprotected sex

A/N: This is my entry for the Weekly Challenge that I was tagged in by the lovely @donutloverxo, thank you! I really enjoyed writing this one❤️.

Masterlist || Add yourself to my tag list

*

“Tired sweetheart?”

Steve was all about the aftercare. Gentle touches, making sure you were feeling good in his arms while he carefully stroked the red skin that was stinging from his previous actions. He loved to go rough with you, nothing like a good time with his girl that was begging to feel more of him.

“A little bit.” You murmured quietly, closing your eyes after you felt a finger ghosting over your flushed cheeks. The sound of the glass being placed on the nightstand and him shifting through the room was what kept you awake. Even though you didn’t see him you could feel the smug on his face. The smug that he wore proudly after he had his time with you.

The bites that turned purple, the red skin on your ass and the messy hair was a sight that got him hard again almost every time after he was finished with you. The images of you with your ass up and upper half pressed onto the mattress would always be in his head after he saw you all worn out sprawled on your bed.

“I can feel every inch of that sweet pussy of yours.” The statement that was followed with a loud groan escaping from his chest made you clench around him. You were feeling so full and every time you thought how he can’t give you more Steve made sure to surprise you.

“I love it when you moan from me I know that cunt is made for me only but I still love to hear that coming from your dirty little mouth.” You knew what he wanted, his hot breath fanned your sweaty skin making you shiver. Steve’s patience was usually limitless but with you in bed it was absolutely execrable, he just didn’t love disobedience and being ignored.

“I asked you a question didn’t I?” His movements were fast, his hand sneaked around your neck giving it a harsher squeeze as he brought you up from the sheets to his tense torso. His hips stopped moving, his dick pulsating against your tight walls waiting for you to speak up with your weak voice.

“Answer me.” The sudden contact of his palm slapping your already sensitive clit, made you clench around him. Big mistake indeed.

“It’s yours. Fuck this pussy i-is your Captain.” You barely chocked out while his mouth worked on your neck.

“Too late. Hope you will learn the lesson after your ass is all pretty and red with my hand marks all over it. Will you? I bet you will, especially after you won’t be able to sit like you used to for a week or more sweetie.”

“Was I too rough with you tonight?” He still didn’t leave your side, caressing the soft skin with his calloused fingers that travelled down to your bruises occasionally. Steve knew everything was fine, that you enjoyed it because if you were feeling any kind of discomfort you two had a strict rule to use the safe word. Say it anytime, no matter what we’re doing I’m stopping immediately. However he still wanted to make sure you were doing well after it.

“No, I enjoyed every moment.” You breathed out a chuckle, opening your eyes to see the figure that wasn’t moving away from you.

“Come here Captain.” The warm hand wrapping around his, guiding him to the empty spot put a smile on his face immediately. You were looking like the most beautiful painting, a true masterpiece that took his breath away every time he would lay his eyes on you.

“You’re so beautiful.” The way you kept the duvet so close to your chest, hiding from him like he didn’t saw your body every single day was something he adored as well as you being all shy with him. There was nothing like the feeling of your naked body wrapped around his while his touch was focused on your warm body.

“I’m glad that I can call you mine.” He mumbled lowly in your ear, pressing an innocent peck near your earlobe.

“And I’m glad that I’m the only one who can wreck you like this.”

[angrythingstarlight]

Promise to not Promise

Summary: If you were stronger you would tell him no, you would tell him many things. 

Pairing Mike Weiss x Reader

Word count 1400 

Warnings: Angst, Smut , 18+, drug use, codependency

A/N: Inspired by Ingrid Michaelson’s The Chain and Sort of, song lyrics incorporated.  Masterlist and Taglist if you’re interested. 

For @jtargaryen18​ 30 days of Chris and @donutloverxo​ Capatain Weekly Challenge, word prompts in bold.

“This is the last time, Mike”

 You shift in the hard plastic chair as you stare at the monitor attached to the wall. The green line moving up and down across the screen, beeping with each beat of his heart. The same heart that almost stopped an hour ago before you shoved the narcan up his nose. The blue line just below it measuring his oxygen, ironic since his lips were the same shade when you found him on your living room floor.

 “Baby." His normally smooth voice raspy, always raspy after these episodes.

 “No, Mike, don’t say anything, not right now” you sigh before standing up. “I can’t-I need some air."

You slide the glass door open and step out of the room. You give a quick smile to the nurse sitting in front of a computer across the hall. You’ve been here so often that you know most of them by name.

 You’re under the bright neon red emergency sign, the cool air prickling your skin as you sit on the bench. Until Mike, you assumed that every ambulance pulled up to the hospital with lights flashing and sirens blaring. Instead its usually a quiet affair, the medics pushing stretcher after stretcher into the ambulance bay door. You could never decide which was worse when the distraught family followed or when no one came.

 Looking past the dark parking lot, you think about what would Mike do if you really left. If you were a stronger person, you would go now. Drive home, lock your door, contact that divorce attorney. 

 After a few minutes, you go back in, stepping through the metal detector for the second time that night. The security guard waving you through the double doors. You see the tall bald doctor walking to Mike’s room, his white coat fluttering behind him. “Hello,Mrs. Weiss how are you tonight."

 You shrug, “same as always, Trent."

God, you hate the way that he looks at you, that glimmer of pity just beneath the surface of his eyes, but you can’t blame him either.

 He opens the door, motioning for you to go first. Mike sits up when he sees you.

“Hey Sweetheart.” He smiles, reaching for you.

The monitor beeping faster as his heart rate increases. You feel yours twist in your chest when his hand drops to the bed. 

 You blink away burning tears before you turn to the doctor. “Can we go soon?”

You study his stethoscope around his neck, it's engraved now, his wife must have it done for his birthday. Your stomach churns, you’ve spent too much time here, they shouldn’t know you by name, know him at all.

 “-rehab services, our social worker has a list if you want.” Shaking your head slightly, you realize that Trent’s been talking to the both of you.

 “No, I don’t need rehab, I can do this on my own, with her." He declares as he takes the blood pressure cuff off his arm.

No, Mike. Take the help please, I can’t do this, you’re running me down, baby please take the help.

The words repeat in your head as you watch the dancing green line on the screen flatten when he rips the heart monitor off, the stickers pulling at his chest hair. You can feel his glassy bloodshot eyes pleading with you. 

Tell him to stay, tell him he can’t come home until he’s sober. For good this time. 

“Let’s go home,” you say to the blank monitor.

He sleeps during the ride home, his face turned towards you. You pull up to your house and turn the car off. He looks like your Mike when he sleeps. The Mike that you met in college, the guy who made a powerpoint titled "The benefits of dating Mike Weiss" and presented it in front of your entire English class. The guy who managed to convince the professor that it did fall under the assignment guidelines. The Mike who sweet-talked the couple selling your dream house into lowering their price so that he could afford it for you. The Mike who danced with you at two in the morning when you spent the night studying for boards. 

 You get out, slamming the door startling him awake. You don't look back as you go into the house. Ignoring the mess in the living room, you go straight to the bathroom. Turning on the shower, you undress tossing your clothes on the floor. You can hear him cleaning. You lean against the shower wall, letting the hot water soothe your body.

 The door opens and he hesitates for a moment before coming in. Through the foggy shower glass, you see him straighten your beauty products on the sink and put your clothes in the hamper. He takes a fluffy white towel off the rack and sits on the toilet. Waiting. You turn away and finish your shower. The patter of water drumming beneath the defeaning silence.

When you can no longer hide under the fading steam, you rest your head on the cooling tile and sigh, gathering the remnants of your fragile strength. Turning off the water, you step out. Words pry your lips apart and you swallow them back down, not ready to have that coversation, not with him gazing at you with such longing that it hurts, adding another crack to your already broken heart.

He stands in front of you, gently drying off your body as you stare at the tattoo on his chest. He takes your vanilla and honey-scented lotion in his large warm hands, massaging it into your skin.

Making his way to your legs, he kneels on the floor, looking up at you. “I’m sorry baby, it won’t happen again.”  

 Mike, you said that last time, the time before that and you’re going to say it the next time.

 He puts his forehead against your stomach, “I promise, I’ll get help,  I can’t lose you," he murmurs.

Promise to not promise anymore, you wish you would say, but you don’t say a lot of things to him.

 You look up, whispering, “i"m tired." Tired of this, of everything that comes with loving him.

 “Give me another chance.” He kisses your soft skin and you close your eyes, letting him push you back against the shower door. “Let me take care of you.”

 He moves your legs apart, separating your folds with his fingers as he licks up your center. You think about the first time he overdosed as he circles your clit. Small gasps escape your mouth as he kisses you and memories of the fight you had when he brought drugs into your home flash with every swipe of his tongue. He makes you feel good even though he's the root of your pain. It's not enough, god it's not nearly enough, but you cling to it, desperate to feel something other than the aching numb biting at your skin. Arching your back as he grips your hips pulling you closer, the pleasure building, fighting with heaviness in your chest as the nights you spent looking for him play in your mind.

The flashes of tonight when you found him shaking on your living room floor play behind your eyes on a cruel loop as he sucks your clit into his mouth. Your orgasm hits unexpectedly, you cry out bending over as you push against his head. You see a drop of water hit the hand clutching his soft hair.

 You lean back as you catch your breath, the tears rolling down your face until you’re sobbing. He hugs you murmuring excruciating promises in your ear, slick words that trap you in his orbit. Caging you to him, reminding you that you're his life raft. But you're drowning too. Mike can't—wont—see that you're sinking faster than him.

He picks you up and lays on the bed. Exhausted, you curl onto your side and he covers you with the dark turquoise blanket before wrapping his arm around you. Clinging to each other as you fade away into a quiet slumber where you can dream that he's still the man who promised you the world.

 Three days later, you come home early to catch him snorting cocaine off your favorite book in the hallway closet. You make him leave the next morning, heart shattering as you ignore his pleas to let him stay. It hurts, your fingers tremble every time you decline his phone calls and delete his texts. You refuse the flowers and gifts sent to your office, not wanting to see his handwritten promises scrawled across the notes.

 The nights are worse. You can distract yourself during the day. But when it's just you, in the bed that smells like him, your mind replays all the good memories, the times he made you laugh, the moments he made you fall in love, made you feel love. Your resolve weakens. The need to be close to him seeping in your veins. Always a glutton for punishment, you spray his cologne on your wrist before you go to bed, wearing his favorite shirt as you sleep with your arms around his pillow. 

 Five days later, you’ve cried yourself to sleep when loud pounding at the front door wakes you up. You look at your phone from the nightstand. Missed call after missed called. Desperately sweet messages fill your screen. You stare at the ceiling, willing yourself to stay in bed. More knocking. Your name whimpered, then cried.

"Don't go," you whisper. Don't go. You don't know if you're talking to him or yourself. You're unable to explain how you found yourself at the front door. Looking through the peephole you see Mike leaning against the screen door. 

 Don't open it, you tell your soft heart, go back to bed. Just go to sleep.

 You look again, his head is down, shoulders slouched, sighing, you open the door. “What are you doing here? It’s 3 am.”

 His face lights up as he stumbles toward you, slurring, "surprise… I have a gift for you.” He drops a small teddy bear at your feet. “You wouldn't take my other gifts, so here."

You inspect him as he sways before you, his stormy blues eyes are lined with that familiar shade of red, his maroon shirt unbuttoned, one suspender off his shoulder, the alcohol wafting off his breath.

“Goodnight Mike”. You start to close the door when he stops it with his foot.

“Please, baby, I- I don’t want to be alone." He cries, the pain in his voice shattering the last your already broken heart. “I’m trying baby, would you stop loving me if I-“ He swallows, looking down.

If I were stronger, I would tell you no.

You won't. He needs you. And you need him, not this version of him but you need him regardless.

 You lean up, putting your hands on his face. “I can’t, I wish—"your voice cracking, “—but I can’t,” you whisper against his lips. Kissing him softly, a faint smile on your face when his eyes stay closed after you move back.

 You take his hand and lead him into the bedroom. You watch as he undresses, when he opens his mouth, you shake your head. Not tonight, Mike. Pulling back the covers, you lay down, rolling onto your side, the bed dips as he gets in. His hand slides across your stomach and he pulls you to him. "I missed you."

Tears leak through your closed eyes. "Missed you too."

 If I were stronger, I would let you go.

 But here I am, and here we go again.

 “This is the last time, Mike,” you say as his arm close around you, lips finding your shoulder.

“I know.”

[chris-evans-indian-fanfic]

A Second Chance?

One-shot

Description- Steve cannot forget Peggy and you become his second choice.

Warnings- Angsty Steve

This one-shot is for the exciting weekly challenge set by @donutloverxo and her friends! For this week, the fic is inspired by their moodboard below! Check out the challenge here

My Main Masterlist

I don’t consent to have any of my work published or featured on any third party app, website or translated. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission. In that case, please do share the link and let me know.

...

Red. That was all that Steve saw when he entered the party. Red. Raw anger radiated from him like heat from an asphalt road on a hot summer day. Everyone at Tony's party looked at the angry Captain and gave him plenty of room, unwilling to bear the brunt of his temper. 

He slowly walked across the room, his eyes searching for your silhouette. Finally, he found you talking to Pepper on the balcony of the Avengers tower. You were wearing his favourite dress, the white one with lace on the top and a little bit of flare at the knees. You were your usual charming self, making Pepper smile with your innocence. Huh, Steve snorted, if only they knew how petty you could be. 

You looked at him as he stepped towards the balcony, feeling his presence. But, his expression made you stop. It was obvious he was furious, but why? As far as you knew, there were no new missions at the moment and the world was safe, at least for the time being. Apparently, Pepper noticed Steve's body language as well and slightly nodded when you excused yourself.

In the last year with Steve, you had gotten pretty good at handling his temperamental nature. In all the time you had shared with him, you had never seen Steve this furious. You followed him quietly into his apartment that you shared with him, and flinched when he closed the door with a BANG.

He glared at you from across the room, his nostrils flaring as if he could breathe fire. Fists clenched, he slowly started walking towards you. "How many times have I said that you will NEVER measure up to Peggy?" he spat.

"Al-almost everyday Steve," you stammered. Even after all these years, Peggy still claimed a special place in Steve's heart and he didn't miss any opportunity to bring it up. His words and his compass were a constant reminder that you would always hold a second place in his life. But you didn't mind though, because for you, Steve was the only one there could ever be.

"And how many times have I asked you to stay away from the compass?" he asked. "Many t-times Steve. W-what happened?" you asked, clearly nervous with Steve's demeanor.

"Why did I find my compass covered in red wine on the couch?" his voice dripping with anger. This was news to you as well. You had never touched the compass, knowing it would upset Steve. 

Shaking your head, you tried to reason with him, "Steve this is the f-first time I am hearing about this. I-I promise you I had n-nothing to do with this. Should we ask F.R.I.D.A.Y? M-maybe she caught something on tape?" 

"Do you honestly think I am that dumb?" Steve snapped as he stepped further, "Her tapes have been wiped clean. And only you have access to that, don't you? Ms. Head of Security?"

"Steve, please believe me, I did no such thing. Let's go to my office and we can figure this out," you pleaded with him. 

"YOU disgust me. I can't even look at you. Make sure your stuff is cleared out of my apartment by tonight," he stormed out after the command.

You couldn't just stand there and watch the love of your life just breakup with you. And so, you rushed out after him, hoping to knock some sense into his arrogant brain.

In an attempt to get away from you, Steve headed to the party, with you almost near his heels. 

"Steve," you called out to him, not wanting to create a scene, but he had already entered the party and was walking towards the bar near the pool. You almost sprinted to catch up to the man. When you finally did, you placed a small hand on his shoulder and whispered, "Steve please l-lis… ARGGHH!"

In an attempt to shake you off, Steve had pushed you. Now in his head, it was a light push, but for your petite body, the impact of the push threw you into the deep-end pool.

You fell with a loud splash. Panic gripped you as you kept sinking into the water, flailing your arms and legs around as you miserably tried to swim.

Almost instantly, you saw yourself being enveloped by a ball of red light, lifting you out of the water and onto the edge of the pool. 

As you coughed up water, someone covered you with a blanket and started rubbing your back. You looked up to see Bruce's reassuring face. 

"Good job Wanda," you heard, was it Clint? "Thank God this went better than the wine accident."

"Sshhhh," you guessed you heard Wanda shushing him.

"What do you mean by 'wine accident'?" Steve asked with authority. 

"Uhhh," Clint fumbled for words as Wanda looked guilty, "Wanda and I were practising her powers in the living room when, by mistake, she kinda spilled red wine on your compass. So yeah… But it was closed…"

Steve fumed at Wanda, and received a silent apology in return. 

You slowly stood up and started making your way towards the apartment, wanting to clear out your stuff before the night. You had never thought that Steve would get physical with you. All this time, you had patiently tolerated his temper, telling yourself that he led a hectic and violent life and that he probably needed an outlet to blow off his steam. But today he crossed a limit.

Steve saw you walking out, and stepped in your direction, hoping to follow you to the room. But he was stopped by Natasha, "Don't," she said sternly, "Let her go. She doesn't deserve to be treated this way."

…

It had been a year since that fateful day. You had quit your job at Stark Industries and moved out to California, where you were working with an international tech company. 

Everyday, without fail, you had received a red rose, with a single note - I am sorry, written in Steve's almost illegible handwriting. It didn't matter where you went, you always received a rose, which you dutifully gave to your old neighbour, always managing to make him smile his toothy smile.

Today, however, you received a small package with the rose. Without a second thought, you threw the package in the garbage bin on your way to work. But as you entered your office, you found the same package on your desk. Again you threw it into the dustbin, immersing yourself in your work. 

You reached home quite late, exhausted with day. As you entered your modest apartment, you found the package sitting on your living room table. Exhaling loudly, you picked it up and threw it out of the window. 

"It's not nice to throw away somebody's gift," Steve said quietly from behind her. 

"Yes but it is nice to throw your girlfriend into the swimming pool," you snorted, not surprised to see him there.

"I am sorry," he spoke with remorse, "I didn't mean to. You didn't deserve to be treated like that." "Wow, who managed to knock some sense into you?" you said with as much sarcasm as you could muster. 

He blocked your way, careful not to touch you as you were headed for your bedroom. "Just open this once," he said, revealing the real box from behind him. "No. I don't want to have anything to do with you," you said crossing your arms.

Sighing in defeat, Steve opened the box to reveal his compass. "I hope this shows you how serious I am about you, about us. Here, open it," he offered you the compass. 

"No," you again replied with defiance. 

He huffed as he pressed the button to open the compass. Now, instead of Peggy, it was your image that adorned the metal inside. You raised your eyebrow at him as he looked at you expectantly.

"Do you really think this will make up for everything you have done?" you asked him incredulously. "No, I know it won't," he hung his head shamefully, "but at least it's a start. I am sorry. I know I hurt you, but please give me a second chance. I…" he sighed, "I need you."

Stepping away from him, you headed for your bedroom, "I honestly need time to think about this Steve. You cannot just expect me to move on with you like nothing happened just because you are sorry."

Turning the doorknob to the room, you said with spite, "You let yourself in my house, you can see yourself out Captain," and with that, you entered the bedroom and closed your door.

[cheeseburgersstuff]

Professor Psycho

Professor Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Dark creepy Steve, kidnapping? (Shitty writing...🤠🙂)

A/N: my entry for the challenge by my lovelies @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho @captain-a-rogerss @donutloverxo 💗💗💗 this challenge is the only thing that makes me want to write these days lol ☹😂😂

Master-list

Part 2

He smirked watching her enter the cafe where he saw her for the first time.

"Yes, don't worry mom I'll be fine" she sighed talking to her worried mother on the phone.

That's when he saw her, sitting with a frown covering her face. A girl from the countryside came to the city to chase her dreams, leaving a worried mother behind.

And now she was all ready to graduate. He saw her becoming a confident woman throughout those years.

It was so difficult for him to control himself all those years, seeing her walking in his class for the first time, paying her full attention to whatever he would be saying unlike some of his brat students.

He was always there watching her. Whether it's his class, library where she spent half of her time in or hanging out with a few of her friends. 

He was smitten by her but there she was completely unaware of her effect on him. 

But now there was nothing to hold back, she was free now. There was nothing between them, no student-professor barrier.

Just a few more days and then she would be his.

~

She turned hearing her name. He was standing there with a smile. 

"Professor Rogers" she returned the smile.

"Call me Steve now you are graduated. I'm no longer your professor doll." He said winking at her. His words only made her a bit uneasy but she ignored the feeling and forced a smile.

"Can we go drink a coffee or something?" He suddenly asked, making her shocked.

 "Professor … I don't think it's appropriate" she tried to reject his offer but he only scoffed.

"Not appropriate? You think I'm gonna slip you out of my fingers without a graduation treat huh? And besides, I already told you I'm no longer your professor so stop worrying." He joked and placed his hand on her waist, dragging her along with him.

To anyone, it would be a friendly gesture but she was feeling a bit uncomfortable with her professor's friendly behavior. 

They walked inside the café ordering their coffee. His smile was only increasing her anxiety.

The server came bringing their order. Y/n was busy thanking the server to notice what her professor was putting in her cup.

She didn't feel anything while drinking. He kept talking to her about her future plans even though they were about to get ruined by him.

She felt dizzy when they were walking back to her dorm. Her vision got blurred, at first, she tried to ignore it thinking it must be tiredness. But then her steps got unsteady.

"You okay?" Steve asked. She tried to reply but before she could reply her vision got blacked.

~

She woke up feeling her head throbbing with pain.

The last thing she remembered was walking with Steve. Then what happened to her, she didn't know.

80's jazz music playing in the background brought her out of thoughts.

She looked around to see the unfamiliar room. But the familiar smell there was telling her where she was.

Suddenly the door of the room opened.

"Oh, you woke up" Steve greeted the confused girl with a smile. She hated seeing him smiling as if everything was normal.

"What happened? Why I am here" 

Steve sat on the bed with her. "You fainted sweetheart. So I carry you here" 

His hand cupped her face lovingly which she instantly jerked off.

Steve frowned at her behavior. "I need to go now," she said and tried to get up. Steve grabbed her shoulders.

"You're not going anywhere," he said as if he was talking to a kid.

She should've gone with her instincts and rejected his offer.

She started to panic "please...please let me go" her breaths were getting shorter, tears started to leak out of her eyes.

"Hey look at me. It’s for your safety. You’ll see. Now breathe with me." 

She started to breathe with him.

When she got a bit normal he shook his head disappointedly. "You were such a good girl in the class, what happened now huh?" His stern expressions got softened seeing fear in her eyes.

"Hey, don't be afraid of me babe. I love you, I won't hurt you."

He cupped her face and kissed her forehead to calm her but she only cried more with the contact. 

"Please…" her pleading whispers weren't anything for him. He had made up his mind, she was his.

"If you keep repeating this I'll have to punish you, so stop with this pleading unless you want to be punished," he smirked. This all was funny for him but there her mind was exploding thinking about what he would do with her.

She never knew Professor Rogers, the man who inspired her the most would be this person. She wanted to slap that smug smile off of his face but she knew the consequences.

He got up from the bed, "I'm gonna bring something to eat for you, till then you better come to your senses and start to act like the good girl you are" he winked before locking her inside the room…..

[lilbabycee]

an hour ago // steve rogers 🥀

↳ summary: steve makes some plans for you that you don’t know about.

↳ relationship: soft dark!steve rogers x reader

↳ word count: 2.4k

↳ warnings: mentions of blood (nothing too graphic), gaslighting, some angst, and some hurt without the comfort

↳ author’s note: hey! i wrote this for the weekly challenge by @captain-a-rogerss​ @donutloverxo​ @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho​ based on the moodboard below - enjoy! ❤️

It was a pretty dress - a lace bodice held up by thin straps, flaring out at the waist into clouds of white tulle that swish around your body like waves and gently brush the smooth skin of your thighs a few inches above your knees. He liked the way that your face brightened when you’d pulled those shoes that you’d had your eye on earlier that week out of the black box that he gave you. You liked it, too - saw your beaming face in a mirror and couldn’t believe that you were the same person staring back at yourself. The shine of your skin was all because of the man standing behind you, arms coiled around your middle and chin resting on your shoulder, the thick hair of a dark blonde beard tickling the sensitive skin of the bare column of your neck. Even though you squirmed in his arms as if you wanted him to let you go, you didn’t - not by any stretch of the imagination. He met your gaze in the mirror and as much as your subconscious tried to fight it, a wide grin split your face in half. 

He likes it when you smile like that - when you aren’t scared of laughing too loud or loving too hard, completely unabashed in your actions because you aren’t worried about what other people think. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from your face when you’d slipped into those heels as if they’d always belonged on your feet and walked around with the poise of a woman who was born to wear clothes like these. He’d escorted you down the stairs with your hand in the crook of his elbow and a proud smile on his face that made the bees in your stomach come alive, basking in the attention and slamming against the sides of your body excitedly. You looked but more importantly felt like a princess.

That was at the beginning of the night. 

Now, you’re running, the gusts of wind cracking whips against your wet cheeks and stirring the torn skirt of your dress every which way as the city that never sleeps stares at you from below. The winking lights of the buildings full of people who don’t want to go home glare at you almost mockingly as your bare feet slap against the cold tile. The way that you wind through the foggy paths of confusion distorting the rational thought in your brain is not dissimilar to the way you dodge and weave through the clusters of people in your way, frantic apologies spilling from your lips out of courtesy when you step on a toe or spill a drink. 

Spill a drink - you look down only to be reminded of the ruby-red Cabernet Sauvignon that tarnishes the once-beautiful dress on your body, a color that reminds you so acutely of your own blood that you have to look away, feeling the acidic tang of bile rise in your throat. You can almost smell the pungent odor of copper, certain that you must be imagining it until your eyes zero in your hands - more importantly, the rivulets of red that stream down the fingers of your right hand that is clutching your dress. 

You’d dropped your glass when you’d found out what he’d planned - shattered it, really, but that distinction wasn’t important when you first broke it, nor is it important now. The tiny shards of glass stuck in your skin are no longer the primary source of your pain; rather, that comes from the way that your heart fell out of your body and exploded right there on the floor between the both of you. You’d left the fragmented pieces where you were standing right before you ran away, not even attempting to salvage any of the broken parts before you took off. That coupled with the weight of the heavy ring on your left hand, your chest feels as if it’s caving in on itself. 

You’re getting looks now, low whispers ripple through the well-dressed people who’ve all come here just for you. They try to point discreetly, raised eyebrows and bewildered glares following you as you continue to sprint away from the flocks of party-goers. Running away won’t solve anything, but when he put that ring on your finger you knew you weren’t ready - far from it. So yes, you’re delaying the inevitable but that’ll have to be good enough for now because you’re not at all ready to face your boyfriend.

And then the perfect opportunity arises. You round a corner so quickly that you almost sprain an ankle, only to stop short when you see what’s in front of you. Not only is the area around it completely free of people, but the pool is also fully empty. With a cursory glance over each shoulder, you decide that it’s your best option - stay in there for as long as possible because if someone merely looks out in this direction, they’ll assume that no one is here. You know he’ll find you eventually but you’re panicking, your anxiety bubbling up over the low flame of the anger that festers deep within your body.

So you dive in as gracefully as you can considering your attire but in your haste, it’s only when your hands break the surface of the water that you remember that they are still covered in blood. The thought is left up in the air as soon as your head is underwater. Opening your eyes as best as you can in the chlorinated abyss, you see a darker corner of the pool right across from you where the light doesn’t reach and push yourself towards it, hoping that it’ll conceal you for the time being.

Once you get there, you risk coming back up to take a breath, pushing the water out of your eyes only to scream when your vision is less blurry. A shadowy figure is crouched right in front of you, weight on his toes and elbows resting on his knees with his hands clasped together. Droplets of water roll down your skin and your dress hangs heavy on your body: you’re definitely soaking wet but underneath Steve’s hot gaze, it might as well have been the contrary - the fire burning through his eyes would be more than enough to dry you off.

Your eyes roam his form slowly as you swallow down gulps of air, noticing how not a single strand of his long, slicked-back hair is out of place. His black three-piece suit might as well have been taken straight off of the rack, black tie straight and jacket unwrinkled, and his beard looks as soft as it was when you ran your fingers through it an hour ago. 

The sole indication of his ire is the clench of his jaw, that telltale muscle ticking rhythmically like the hands of the clock on the timer of his patience. 

The left side of his face is shrouded in shadows, but it does nothing to hide the curve of his full lips, a smile that feeds the anger in the pit of your stomach. If you had been asked three days ago - hell, an hour ago - how that smile made you feel, you’d have said that it was the smile of the man who hung the stars in your sky, the man who would steal the moon for you if you asked. 

But that was then. And this is now.

“Found you, sweetheart,” he rumbles, his words fueling his smirk and causing it to spread into a full-blown grin. You’re paralyzed in shock, thinking that you would’ve had more time to mull over your predicament. This doesn’t hinder him; he repositions himself to kneel, giving him more leverage to grasp you underneath the arms and pull you out of the water. You don’t even have it in you to object as he hauls you away from the pool, your fighting spirit exhausted and cold in the crisp night air. You pull your arms into your chest to try and stave off the biting wind as Steve carries you bridal style - you want to laugh at the irony - towards the nearest sofa.

Setting you on his lap - wet dress, be damned - his blue eyes examine your face which you just know is a mess. The makeup that you had so flawlessly applied is more than likely to be streaming down your face, but you don’t care because you’re staring right back at the man you thought you knew with a gaze emptier than the hole in your heart.

“Lemme see your hand, baby,” he murmurs and you acquiesce, handing it to him while your gaze focuses in on the single red rose tucked in the pocket of his jacket. It’s beautiful, to put it simply. It’s so soft, drops of water pooling in between the maze of its petals and caressing it as it trails down the thornless stem. You’d know - you were holding that rose approximately thirty minutes ago as your bridal bouquet.

Steve curses quietly as he turns your hand back and forth in his, the light catching against the shards of glass embedded in your fingers and your palm. His eyes snap to yours and you can feel the reprimand on his tongue before he even opens his mouth, but you have no voice left to stop him so you shake your head instead. Thankfully, he does as he’s told and keeps it to himself. His body is emitting heat in rolling waves and you can feel it seep into your skin, a brief shudder running through you as it does. You instinctively lean into it, momentarily forgetting about his deception. His arm drapes over your body, and he can feel his heart swell at how much you still need him.

The silence stretches between you two for a few minutes longer, your eyes stinging, the harbinger for your tears, until Steve clears his throat quietly. 

“You ran away from me,” he states and without even looking at him, you know that he’s staring at you because the weight of his gaze is almost as crippling as the ring that weighs down your whole body. 

“I did,” you reply simply, running your tongue over your lips. 

“I thought you loved me,” he says softly which makes you so desperately want to roll your eyes. 

“I do,” you speak slowly, unsure whether or not you even believe the words coming out of your own mouth. You know that it’s easier this way, telling him what he needs to hear to placate him. But he’s still perplexed - you can tell because his eyes are the same teal as the swimming pool. 

“No,” he protests, hand coming to grip your waist in a way that sends brief shockwaves of pain across your body. You draw in a gasp between clenched teeth, and your own hands fly up to claw at his arms. “If you loved me, then you’d have wanted to marry me-”

“I do want to marry you,” you try to declare firmly, but you find it increasingly difficult when he keeps holding you tighter and tighter; you know he doesn’t mean to. It doesn’t hurt anymore - the aching in your chest overpowers any other sensation - but it’s more uncomfortable than anything. He’s pulled you so far into his chest that if you were an inch closer, you’d only become another part of his body. You’re still digging your nails into his forearm. “Just not like this.”

“Why not?” he pipes up, his tone deep though whiny. This makes you laugh (inside your head) - he’s almost a breath away from stomping his foot like a petulant child. Instead, his hands press harder into your sides, pushing against your head so that it rests right over his beating heart. His beard brushes against your forehead and where that sensation was pleasurable earlier, in this moment you want to run as far away as possible.

“Because we weren’t even engaged before tonight-”

“But why does that matter? We’ve talked about it - you knew this was going to happen someday-”

“That’s not an excuse, Steve,” you exclaim indignantly. Even though you’re looking right at him, you do not recognize the man holding you so close to him in the slightest. You’ve never heard of anybody’s boyfriend planning them a surprise wedding without even proposing beforehand, but you were under the impression that if you were to hear a story as outrageous as that, it wouldn’t be your life.

It’s hard to believe how wrong you were. 

He looks as if he’s about to speak before he shuts his mouth, chewing thoughtfully on the inside of his cheek before nodding slowly. “Okay, honey, okay. You’re right. Not tonight. You’re all worked up and I get it - you need time.”

Now this is the Steve you know. The heaviness that lies in the way he looks at you eases up considerably and you’re relieved that he’s finally making sense. You move to pull the ring off of your finger before he quickly places a hand over yours. Lifting your head in confusion, he looks at you with alarm etched into every feature on his face. 

“Baby,” he laughs, breathless and surprised. “Just because we’re not getting married tonight doesn’t mean that it won’t happen at all. I’ll give you the rest of the night to clear your head but tomorrow is another day. All of these people are in town until the end of the week and I’d hate to have invited them here for no reason. We’ve got plenty of time for you to think about it.”

You open your mouth to reply but he silences you with a kiss, short but passionate. His lips move against yours with pressure and urgency never before seen from the Steve who you love. You’re not sure who this man is. When he pulls away, he presses a kiss on your forehead and pulls your face into his chest so that any words that you try to speak are inaudible. 

“Shhh, doll,” he hushes you, massaging circles into your spine, and your skin crawls when you hear the glee in the tone of his voice. “We’ll get you a new dress and try again tomorrow.”

[unnuevosoltransformalarealidad]

It’s OK (Part II)

Summary: Chris comes back from a work trip and he founds you really sick. He does everything in his power to make you feel better

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: Sickness, vomiting, fever, fainting, worried Chris

Word Count:  2,284

This is the continuation of  “It’s OK (Part I)” of the Week 5 Weekly Challenge of @donutloverxo @captain-a-rogerss @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho

A/N: This was kind of proof-read so if there’s any mistake, please let me know, English is not my mother tongue, and I’m still learning. Enjoy the reading!

*Chris’ POV* 

Y/N was running a fever of 104°, she had fainted twice and she hasn’t eaten anything since Wednesday. He’s never seen her in this state, so sick, so vulnerable. He was worried and she probably could tell, he was lost in thought figuring out how to help her. He was pressing the wet cloth on her forehead, caressing her cheek when he realized he had to run a cold bath to break it.

-Try not to fall asleep doll. I’ll get the bathroom ready –he says making Y/N to open her eyes

Y/N tries to nod but she has to throw the blankets to the floor and sprints to the bathroom to empty her stomach; he rushed behind her putting one of his hands on her back making long traces over it and his other hand on her hair to have it out of the way.

-It’s ok baby, let it out. Everything is going to be fine –he says comforting her

Once she finishes, she falls back on top of his chest, exhausted.  She could barely stay awake, he needed to do something and fast. He laid her on the floor and quickly he started to prepare the bathroom. With everything set up, he undressed himself first; she didn’t have the energy enough to be on her own, he needed to be with her, and then he removed your clothes from your body. Your body was shivering and really sticky, he lifted you from the floor, put your face against his chest and then he enters the bathtub. He has to be sure that Y/N’s body is fully submerged into the water; he needs to break this fever, even if it that means being there all night long.

-Baby, I’m cold –Y/N says

-I know baby, but we have to do it –he says caressing her cheek –just a few more minutes

Chris held Y/N for a few more minutes when he felt that she was relaxed and not shivering anymore

-Baby, are you awake?

-Hm?

-I’m going to sit you so I can grab a few towels to dry us, ok?

Y/N nodded, she could barely keep herself awake.  Chris grabbed a towel and put it around his hip, and then he grabbed another for Y/N. He emptied the bath tub and put the towel around Y/N’s body and lifted her bridal style. He felt her body was lifeless; clearly she was exhausted because of the fever. He laid her on the bed and went to the closet to grab some clothes for them. Chris got back already changed and with some clothes for Y/N.

-Y/N, baby, I know you want to sleep, but I need you to try so hard to stay sit so I can dry you and put you some clothes on, ok?

Y/N nodded but she didn’t answer

-Answer me baby, please

-I’ll try –Y/N says with a hoarse voice

Chris helped Y/N to sit and kissed her forehead. He could feel her forehead hot but it wasn’t burning up like it was before. He put first the t-shirt and then her underwear and the shorts

-Baby, can you stand up so I can put this on correctly? –Chris asked Y/N and as she tried to stand up she had to grab herself from Chris’ shoulder to keep her balance. Once she was dressed, Chris took of the towel around her head to dry her hair when she almost fainted again

-Whoa, hun, are you dizzy? –He was starting to get more worried

-Not much

-Let’s sit you in the bed, ok? –Chris said sitting her in the bed and he sitting behind her.

With her hair damp, Chris tucked Y/N in bed checking her temperature again.

- Your temp is at 101,3°. Try to rest and I’ll wake you up with some soup –he said to Y/N but she was already asleep. He kissed her forehead one more time; he grabbed the tray and left the room to let her rest.

After leaving the things in the kitchen, he decided to send a text to her mom, he was worried and he wasn’t sure what was the best thing to do in that moment.

Hi mom! How are you? I arrived a few hours ago and I’m with Y/N. Chris

Chris put his phone aside and started to gather all the stuff that were on the living; mostly were all copies from Y/N’s school. He knew she was behind a few classes and he did everything he could to help her, but it seemed impossible. He was distracted reading the last essay Y/N did when her phoned pinged

Hi Chris! I’m glad you are already at home. We are all okay, missing you guys. How is Y/N? We haven’t talked much; she’s being really busy these past few weeks. When are you coming to visit? Lisa

Chris thought that maybe it was better to call her, but he knew that she was going to come over, he knew her mum really well, and right now he wanted to keep the house quiet and with no one else except him.

Yeah, probably soon, now that I’m back is going to be easier. Y/N has been trying to keep up with her delayed work from school but seems impossible. Mom, Y/N is sick. I found her running a high fever; I gave her a bath and I was able to break it, but I don’t know if I should take her to emergency. What can I do? Chris

Probably his mom was going to call him, but instead she answered it back.

Oh, how bad is it now? If it just a fever, try to keep her warm, that’s going to help, give her ibuprofen every 6 or 8 hours and lots of fluids. But if there is something else, you should consider taking her to the ER. Has she been eating well? Lisa

Chris didn’t know what to do. He hesitated on telling her mom the truth. He gave it a thought on what tell her exactly, and went to the kitchen to prepare a soup for them.

She thinks that the last time she eat something was on Wednesday. I found a cup of tea and a few crackers when I arrived today; she even mentioned she wasn’t feeling well. She has been stressed, so probably is that. It’s an exaggerated reaction to take her to the hospital? I took her fever around half an hour ago and it was 101,3°. Chris

Chris left the soup cooking and went quickly to their shared room to check on Y/N. She was fast asleep, more relaxed. She wasn’t shivering so the fever didn’t spike up, to make sure he was correct, he touched her forehead and it was slightly hot. He sighed relieved; he was able to relax a little since he found her in the bathroom floor. He went back to the kitchen to finish cooking the soup and keep the talk with her mom.

Try to get down that fever, it’s not high but still it can spike up again. Make sure to give her some food and fluids, maybe some juice or something sweet, she is probably dehydrated. It’s not an exaggeration son, you’re being precautious, if you think it’s necessary or you want to make sure she is well, you can take her. Whatever you decided kid, please let me know. Do you want me to go and help you with Y/N? Lisa

The last text his mother sent made him thought seriously the option of taking Y/N to the emergency, she fainted twice and almost again when he was changing her. He decided to wait a little and see; first he was going to try with the soup and the juice, and depending on how that go he was going to decide.

Ok mom; thanks. Don’t worry, I’ll let you know. Love you. Chris

He answered to his mom a little worried; he was going to try first and then see how to continue. He grabbed to bowls and poured the soup, his mother’s favorite recipe, two glasses, one with water and the other with juice and some ibuprofen. He put everything on a tray and went to their shared room. He found Y/N in the same way he left you before, she was fast asleep; Chris felt bad to wake her up, but she needed to eat something.

-Y/N, baby, wake up –Chris shook Y/N from the shoulders

-What? –she murmured

-I brought you soup, you have to eat. Come on, I’ll help you

Y/N didn’t have any strength to push herself into a sitting position so Chris had to help her. It broke his heart seeing her so weak

-Let me help you

-Your food is going to get cold –Y/N said not wanting to get feed up by Chris

-I don’t care, I’ll heat it up later and I’ll eat it while you rest.

Chris helped Y/N with her soup; when she ate almost half of the bowl, she stopped eating and Chris was relieved.

-Stay a little longer in that position, it will help with your food. Let me know if you feel nauseous

Y/N just nodded. She was starting to fall asleep again. Chris made sure she was in a comfortable position, and then he checked her temperature again. It was in 100,4°; that meant the medication was working.

Once he made sure that Y/N wasn’t going to throw up, he removed the pillows from her back and laid her again so she could rest. He went to the kitchen to heat up his soup and then eat in the bedroom to keep an eye on her.

It was Sunday morning when Chris woke up and noticed that Y/N was crying and shaking. He had to woke her up, he got scared.

-Y/N! Wake up!

He shook her but he couldn’t wake her. He held her and started to telling her sweet things to her ear

-Baby, it’s ok! Everything is going to be fine. Don’t worry, I’ve got you

Y/N opened her eyes, she realized that Chris was holding her and she let go the tears, she was sobbing. Chris noticed that she was having a nightmare, probably it was from the fever, he could feel her body was hot and the hair stick to her forehead because of the sweating.

When Y/N calmed down, he hand her a water bottle and a hard candy; he took that moment to take her temperature again.  It was spiking up again

-How are you feeling?

-My body is sore, I’m cold and my head hurts

-Well, your fever spiked up again

-How high?

-Well, now is in 102,2° -he hand her some ibuprofen and more water –How is your stomach?

-Better, but I’m still weird though

-It’s ok. In a couple of hours I will give you more ibuprofen, and if it still high I’ll take you to the emergency –he warned her

-Ok love, thank you

Chris didn’t say anything; he just kissed her forehead and wrapped her in a hug. He knew that she could still get worse, but in that moment, the love he felt for her was everything. It was the first time that he was able to take care of her, she never led him to see her in such a vulnerable state, but for him, it meant everything, it meant that she really trusted him.

It was almost noon when Y/N woke up and went to the living room looking for Chris. Luckily her fever got low, and her stomach got better. Chris made sure to keep a water bottle next to her to keep her hydrated. During that morning while Y/N was sleeping, he called to her mom to give her an update about Y/N, and texted her sister to let her know that he was going to pick Dodger up that afternoon

-Hey baby –Chris said when he saw that Y/N was awake –feeling better?

-Yeah, not perfect, but yeah, I’m better. What are you doing?

-I was talking with my sister; I have to go to get Dodger

-When do you have to go? –Y/N asked sitting on his lap

-After you eat lunch and go back to bed to get more rest. You are not fully healed, and you still have fever –he said touching her forehead

-I’m going to shower and then I’ll go back to bed

-Good. I’ll start cooking lunch –He said kissing her forehead

Y/N went to the bathroom for her shower. Chris took this opportunity to replace the bed sheets, put a new water bottle on the night stand, and he left her another t-shirt of his with a pair of her shorts and some underwear, and took everything to the laundry room; then he went to the kitchen and started to prepare their lunch.

After lunch, Y/N decided to take a nap, she was still tired, her body was starting to recover but still she needed to rest. Chris went to her sister’s and brought Dodger with him back to Y/N’s place.

Y/N woke up with Chris and Dodger next to her on the bed. She was feeling a lot better than the day before, Chris could see it on her face.

-What? –Chris asked her confused

-Nothing. Just… -Y/N stopped talking, and started to rub Dodger behind his ears

-What is it love? –Chris was worried again

-Thank you –Y/N sighed –for taking care of me

-I would do anything for you doll. You are everything to me, both of you –Chris said scratching Dodger’s head and giving a sweet kiss to Y/N.

Tag List (let me know if you want to be part)

@iguessweallcrazyithinktho @void-hoechlin

[donutloverxo]

Steve Rogers and spanking

Smut ahead. Check out our weekly challenge

Masterlist

Steve never associated spanking with sexiness or as anything erotic. He is a gentleman. He doesn't have such dirty kinks.

Sure he likes a nice plump ass. Your ass to be more specific. He loves seeing it in tight yoga pants, snug jeans. Hell he even likes seeing it in dresses that don't necessarily flaunt it. When he is forced to use his imagination.

He also likes seeing it in your cute pastel cotton panties. With stars or heart patterns. Or better yet, no panties.

He saw your ass perched up in your cute pink panties, he couldn't help it, his hand moved before he could even register what was happening. He slapped your ass, the smack echoing in the room, your ass jiggling, and your small yelp, made him oh so hard.

You looked so adorable when you tried to act like you didn't like it. Though the musky scent of your weeping sex clearly said otherwise.

From then on you'd act out, tease him, get on his nerves just to push him off the edge. He was extremely thankful to the serum when he could so easily manhandle you over his lap and discipline you.

"You're such a brat" He'd scold, smirking at your feeble attempts at getting away from him. He would deliver as many spanks as he saw fit for the situation.

Never more than ten or fifteen. Even as a dom Steve is really soft, he would never want to actually hurt you or cause you discomfort.

He'd dip his fingers in your folds, just because he couldn't help himself. You would always be so wet, unabashedly enjoying it. Does it actually count as punishment if you enjoy it?

He always uses his hand. He feels it's more intimate that way. Besides there's nothing like your hot warm skin against his palm.

He especially likes it when you'd present him your ass and demand to be spanked. Sure he maybe the dominant one on the surface but you are the one who is truly in control.

He is the king of aftercare. Rubbing baby oil or aloe over your raw ass after a tasking session. Seeing it all red, because of him, invokes a darker, possessive side of him.

He does feel a bit bad about being proud when he sees you struggling to sit on your swollen ass.

[writerwrites]

Little Town Street

Pairing: Andy Barber x Reader

Summary: A college fling with Andy Barber is rekindled when you move back to Boston and you’re both single. 

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Smut 18+, language, tinge of angst, Defending Jacob spoilers / all the warnings that would go along with the series, fleeting mentions of divorce and bad breakups

A/N: *THIS IS A ONE SHOT* This is the Week 3 prompt to the Optimistic Captain Donut Challenge created by @captainchrisbaby, @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho , and @donutloverxo​ || The Week 3 Prompt was based on  All Too Well by Taylor Swift || I’m only 3 months late, minimum || Fall dividers by @firefly-graphics​

Boston. Your heart raced just thinking about getting back to the place you went to college. The glide of the tassel across your cap and the memories of late night conversations over pizza and beer while elbow deep in a tort. You’d loved the smell of law books and the haze of the green lamps on the library’s oversized and ancient oak desks. The magic of that place was lost on you while you were there, as was the magic of the few relationships you managed to establish while getting your law degree. But here you were, the little suburban town just out of the city, boxes piling up in the empty living room as you settled into your newly single life at a small firm that liked your big New York City success. This was a needed change after a painful breakup. This was your clean break.

Covered in sweat with your hair in a messy top bun, tank top slithering up the steep curves of your soft sides while the sun kissed the back of your bronzed skin, you heard a honk at the intersection in front of your house. The unexpected sound jolted you and the heavy box of books slipped from your fingers and landed on your foot. Hopping to the steps of your new brick home, you looked over at the intersection. It was a near-accident that was the cause of the ruckus. Both cars now at a standstill at the center of the four-way intersection. It took a minute for you to process the shock as you rubbed at your aching foot, but there he was, thick brown hair and bright blue eyes looking at you through the windshield of a black Audi A6. Andy Barber.

With such a public court case and the subsequent car accident, every news-viewing American knew who he was and knew a little too much about him. The problem was that while you’d sat in your own office in the Big Apple, trying to put yourself in Andy’s shoes, you watched a person you once knew in a new light and while your now-ex kept bringing up the commentary of obvious guilt, you couldn't help but sympathize with the collapse of his life. It was too easy for you to slip into the heartache of a family stalked and ruined, a person left so completely exposed and judged by everyone that you’d trusted. It was, after all, why you’d left New York. It was a miracle you’d gotten your fresh start, the Barbers certainly didn’t. You could picture it, but you never speculated, never stayed on the channel when the case came on. Every fiber of your being couldn’t look at him, not because of what broadcasters said but because of the too real memories of a love lost.

You were the one that ended the stare-off, your foot aching more with every passing second. Jaw clenched and lips pressed into a line, you were just about to convince yourself that there was no way Andy Barber, your biggest competition in college and your first love, was outside your new home… and then you heard him say your name. God, it always sounded so good coming from his mouth. The last time you’d heard it he was asking you not to go, drunk outside the bar you’d had your first date telling you that what you two had was bigger than the careers ahead. He didn’t see the tears streaming down your face once you turned away to get in your cab. Maybe, after all this time, he thought you didn’t hear him scream your name.

When you opened your eyes Andy was there at the bottom of your driveway on that little town street, brows knit together with concern as he locked his car that was perfectly parked on the steep driveway like he’d done it a million times. “Don’t look so worried about me, Andrew. You’re the one who just nearly crashed a bajillion dollar car.”

He laughed, despite noticing how you’d used his full name like you two were standing on opposite ends of a courtroom- and maybe you were. But that laugh, the warmth of it wrapped you up and you were thrown back through the magic and memories of that romance once more. The plaid shirts you stole in the middle of the night to run to the kitchen for a midnight snack. Your skin was covered in goosebumps despite the heat as you remembered how Andy had peeled you out of his shirts to warm you back up with his skin on yours, the metal of the fridge pressed to your back. Every moment with him was crystal clear in your mind the smells of autumn and taste of cider and beer when your tongues met, the feeling of his beard scratching your thighs, and... It took his hands on your chin to pull you out of the pain and want of those happier days that you’d ignorantly run from scared of settling. “Are you sure the box didn’t land on your pretty little head?”

The sound that passed your lips was practically a damn purr, you mentally cursed him for pulling it out of you with familiar ease. Opening your eyes to look up at him, you wondered if the emotions of that tumultuous relationship sat at the forefront of his mind too and if it was written on your face. “Nope, definitely landed on my foot.” Swallowing at the sandpaper in your throat, you looked at the swollen discolored mess. “You didn’t have to see if I was okay.”

“First, yeah, I did. It’s been fifteen or sixteen years since I’ve seen you. Second, I saw you hop over here clutching your foot. I can’t leave a wounded deer on the side of the road, can I?” His hands were stubbornly placed on his hips and that’s when you noticed the pale indent of a missing wedding band on his left hand’s ring finger. His blue eyes followed your gaze and he rubbed at the spot like he’d not gotten used to the absence of the cool metal. A similar thin, faded line from a discarded engagement ring on your matching finger. “I guess we’ve both been through it.”

Offering him a small smile, he helped you up and as Andy’s strong hands clutched your waist you wondered if he’d remembered just how ticklish the space between your ribs and hip were when he was careful to not touch you there. When you grabbed at the perfectly tailored coat trying to hop around the man let out an amused grumble and scooped you up. “Aren’t we a little old for grand gestures?” Your head rolled back as you laughed and he turned to get you through the door without smacking your injured foot on the frame. “Jesus are you hitting the gym and benching thick girls, Barber?”

The laughter filling the house was only amplified by his unceremonious dropping of you onto the love seat. The crooked smile looking down at you made you melt. That look, it was a drug that you’d had you first taste of in a mock trial, when he knew he’d won his case and looked back at you in the seats behind him, taking notes. “Other than the box on the lawn, are there any more?”

“You don’t have to..”

“But I’m going to and I want to. Besides, you can’t.” Andy was already pulling off his coat, loosening his tie, and buttoning his shirt before you could protest... not that you were capable of it. He bit his lip when he caught sight of you drinking him in. The slacks and the undershirt that clung to him. “Like what you see?”

“It’s rude.” You stated matter of fact, gesturing to all of him. Andy raised his hands as if to apologize, heading to the door to get to work. Closing your eyes, you could perfectly picture that one picture of the two of you at your graduation. Inadvertently, you mumbled to yourself. “I miss looking that damn good.”

If your eyes hadn’t been closed maybe you would’ve seen the way he froze in the doorway, biting his tongue before stepping out. It wasn’t until you heard the hefty thunk of a box on the hardwood floor that you peaked your eyes open. A clear sheen of sweat glistened on his brow and you bit your lip, the heat running over your body was hardly from moving boxes or the summer heat pouring in the front door. “Please tell me the rest of it isn’t boxes of books, Legal Beagle.”

Scoffing at the old nickname you sighed, “Nope, it’s just bottles of wine and liquor and pictures. The remnants that I didn’t want to break or misplace in the moving truck that came a few days ago.”

“You’ve been here for days and you didn’t call.” His tone was surprisingly wounded.

“Well, Legal Eagle, you didn’t exactly shoot me an email either.” Andy’s eyes burned into you when you used his old nickname back, but you couldn’t decipher what that look really meant. Before you could ask or apologize he was turning back out the door, leaving you there to chew the inside of your cheek raw.

Andy made quick work of the boxes in your car while you nursed your bruised foot trying to unravel the feelings bubbling to the surface of your mind in memories and regrets. When the front door shut, you couldn’t even bring yourself to look up, eyes fixed on the bruise while you thought about the emotional bruising you’d caused each other. It wasn’t hard to really know why he hadn’t emailed, nothing funny in the broken pieces you bother were left to pack up and move on from. When had you started crying? Cheeks wet when his hands cupped your face, forcing you to look up at him, thumbs brushing the tears away. “Hey, if it hurts that bad maybe we should take you to get it looked at.”

Reaching up you grabbed Andy’s wrists, but you found yourself hanging there, incapable of pulling him off of you. Instead, your thumbs brushed across the inside of his wrists just applying a little bit of pressure before skimming your hands up the firm muscles of Andy’s forearms. Each of you tried to translate the signals the other was putting off. If it hadn’t been for the haze of being so close to him, maybe you would’ve had the sense to pull away. With a sniffle and apologetic smile you shook your head ‘no’- or at least to the best of your ability when he was still comforting you like no time or pain had passed between the two of you. How long had you been holding on to this first love?

This close you could see it, the little creases of age at the corners of his eyes and a little salt and pepper in his beard. Despite the way those lines seemed to crease his face like words of chapters you’d not been privy to, his blue gaze was unchanged and every welcoming detail of them looked at you like you hadn’t changed either. The moment his knee pressed between your thighs to your core you realized just how needy you were, whimpering and parting your legs as he lowered himself onto you. His hands moved down your neck to your breasts and a firm squeeze and the brush of his thumb over your nipples elicited another breathy moan from your lips. How long had it been since anyone had looked at you like that? How long since you’d gotten off?

“Andy,” The weight of his name on your tongue was dizzying, but the way he said your name back was just as heavy. You pulled his mouth to yours and he parted his lips to wrap around  your bottom lip. His beard scratched at your chin, sending shivers down your body.

Picking your hips up from the couch, you satisfied the ache between your legs on his thigh. Smirking against your lips Andy pressed harder into your core. “You missed me.”

“To the bone,” The confession passed your lips and all you wanted was for him to stay, the thought alone so wholly selfish. Your eyes fluttered open, scared that it had been poison on his own tongue, noticing how he’d pulled away ever so slightly. “That wasn’t fair.”

Though it seemed like a poor apology, Andy was already shaking his head to reassure you that it wasn’t. That quiet, it wasn’t a trait in him you recalled. His hands moved down your frame and he pulled you onto his lap, careful to let you move your legs to straddle him and not hit your foot along the way. “Did you think I wouldn’t care that you were coming back?”

Before you could answer, he stole your air again. Andy’s lips pressed to your neck and he hummed as he tasted the salt on your skin. Then he found the spot he used to always mark, that spot that always seemed to peak just a little out of your favorite courtroom blouse. Gasping, your nails scratched softly at his sides. He took it as a hint and pulled off his undershirt, throwing it at the boxes that had his tie, coat, and button up. “Andrew. I’m trying not to assume anything here but…”

He looked up at you so sweetly that it erased whatever logic you were trying to pull on him with that one dopey smile. “Tell me this isn’t home.”

“I..” Your mouth bobbed open and you looked at him with wide eyes. Did he mean Boston or this moment on his lap like pieces were falling into place since you’d left.

Squeezing your thighs in his palms he repeated the question. “Tell me this isn’t home. Tell me you don’t remember the promise you broke. Tell me those boxes with pictures don’t have the pictures of us all over this town.” Was this a call out? If he hadn’t been looking at you with such heartache you would have looked away. “Maybe I asked for too much and maybe I was just as scared as you were about the future I saw for us… but tell me we didn’t just find our time.”

The tips of your fingers moved up his chest and settled at the sides of his neck, innocently tugging at his beard. Leaning forward you pressed your lips to his forehead and slipped off of his lap though your whole body seemed almost unamused by the cruel neglect of his warmth, your legs staying draped over him and one arm still linked through his. Looking over the boxes you found the stack with the bright blue sharpie, ‘winter clothes’ sprawled across the top as it sat halfway between the bottom of the stairs and the closet by the front door. “Grab that one.”

Andy untangled himself from you with his fingers burning across your skin, reluctantly slipping off the couch to grab the box. When he came back with it you noticed a hesitant look on his face. His eyes moved to his discarded clothes and you sighed and pulled him back to the small couch. “Want to tell me why you’re avoiding my questions?” Ignoring him you peeled the box open and moved a few things out of the way while you pulled out exactly what you knew you needed. “I don’t break over honesty anymo-”

Words seemed to escape him the moment he saw his scarf from the first time he’d gone home with you to meet your family. He didn’t do the meet-the-parents charade and the relationship had been new, but yours had welcomed him in and made him want his own one day. Andy never thought he’d settle with someone else, but that’s exactly what he’d done when you didn’t call, write, visit, or move back… he’d settled. That little trip was a memory he’d revisited often in the torment of waiting for you to come back. The pair of you had spent most of the holiday either studying for exams on your twin sized bed or pouring over old photographs from your childhood. Now you could practically see the memories flooding back as he reached for the scarf and brushed his fingers over the soft fabric.

So, it was your turn for a confession, an apology even. “I remember it all. I miss it all. We may have been young, but we weren’t wrong. No one knew me like you did. No one ever has. We grew up, but you lingered here.” Your fingers combed through his hair and tapped his temple before moving down his body to his sternum, tapping at his pulse, “... and here.” Andy covered your hand in his, drawing your fingers lower to the buckle of his slacks. Your cheeks went red and you nodded a ‘there too’ without being able to form the words.

“Do I get a hundredth chance?” The hope in his eyes was mirrored in your own, your racing heart no longer felt like a warning sign.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” A shaky laugh passed your lips. Andy wrapped his arms around you, tender, before he laughed too, his body shaking against yours. “Oh, this is a prank? Well, damn. That’s embarrassing.”

Andy looked at you and lunging forward, mouths ricocheting in a deep kiss, tongues hungry for the lost time. Only when you came up for air, the pair of you now buried in the couch cushions, did he speak up, “You deserve all the hell I’m going to give you for waiting this long to let me love you.”

“Does that mean you’re going to stay and rub my skin raw with this beard?” Squirming under him, the pair of you frantically reached for every clasp and zipper until there was nothing left between you. His lips moved down your frame and you surprised yourself, pulling him back to your mouth. “You’re staying with me Andy Barber.” Your fingers wrapped around his length and pumped him, brushing the head of his cock against your slit, already dripping. “You’re staying so beard on thighs can wait.” Pressing your mouth back to his as you continued to tease him you whimpered, not even needing to say it but recalling how much he used to love hearing it. “I need you. Don’t make me wait anymore. I need to feel all of you. I miss-”

The begging and pawing, he couldn’t take you slowly, not yet at least. Andy rutted himself into you, growling when your tight wet heat wrapped around him. He buried his forehead into the curve of your neck as he thrust into you over and over, savoring the way you gasped at his every slight movement. Andy worshiped the new softness of your frame and none of this felt like strangers trying to figure out how to get each other off. His thumb brushed back and forth across your swollen clit and, unlike anyone else, you stuttered his name as you got closer, clamping around him, hips bucking off the couch to meet every deep thrust as he slowed his pace to draw this out for both of you.

You loved the look on his face, the way he bit his swollen lips between a million kisses left on your sweaty skin. The way he lost focus when you said his name and how he gently grabbed your chin as you stuttered his name again; so close, so wet for him, so ready to finally get off. Permission, your legs shook and you whined as he kept you right there at the tipping point, building himself up to his own orgasm while he edged you. “Come for me, lover.”

The words were so welcome, just enough to push you over the edge and quickly chased by you begging him, “Stay inside me.” Andy throbbed inside you as you pulsed around his cock, your fingers digging into the meat of his thighs as your orgasm didn’t seem to stop, the room seemingly silent as the echoing thrusts and calling out of names tapered out to the sticky collapse of you both tangled up on the love seat.

Your eyes closed, exhaustion settling in, and Andy watched you breathing. Softly, Andy nuzzled his nose against the top of your head. “If you fall asleep, I’ll fall asleep.”

With a hum you nodded, reaching up to his hand that had settled on your breast, patting it, “Would that be so bad?”

More to himself, voice so low you almost couldn’t hear him. “I can’t lose you again. Can’t lose anyone else.”

“There’s probably a lot we can’t talk about, but this isn’t a dream, Andy.” Pivoting just enough to look at him you held his hand and kissed his chin. “I can’t lose you again either. I already lost a foot.”

There it was, that cheeky little smile. You both sleepy laughed and you watched his body relax. “You almost cost me my car.”

“I couldn’t run away again, even if I wanted to.” Crinkling your nose you smiled, brushing your finger over the smooth part of his skin where the missing ring marked him. He did the same. The scarf hung over the back of the sofa and looked up at him. “I don’t want to, if that wasn’t obvious.”

His blue eyes closed, his smile went soft, and Andy Barber fell asleep in your arms. If someone would have told you that this would have happened when you left New York you would have run back to Boston and spared the pair of you a world of pain. Though you were scared of bridging the gaps caused by the many roads the pair of you had taken to get here, you shut your eyes and smile at the reality that all those roads led home- to him. Like kintsugi everything seemed hopeful, incapable of breaking like the last time, stronger and made beautiful through the healing time of quiet apologies, verbal and physical.

It had been him all along, no denying it. Neither of you would ever have to ask the other to stay again.

All Content Tags: @tom-hlover​

CEvans Content Tags: @void-hoechlin​

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Love and Hate

Summary- 2.7k Mike Weiss x You. Another hotel, another fight, and another making up. Maybe you were just a much an addict as he was. It only seems okay, if you two are fighting with one another. Warnings- Drug Use and Fucking one another. Smut. Messed up and unhealthy relationship. Written for @donutloverxo​ @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho​ and @captain-a-rogerss​ 3rd week challenge- song fics. Choice I used was Eminem (cause I love the bastard) and Rhianna’s, Love The Way You Lie. 

A/N- I love the dysfunctional relationships, the ones that just are self destructive toxic messes. I doubt Mike could ever truly be in a healthy one, although maybe some day in fanfics. I can't claim to know accurately what certain drugs will do, so when reading this, its simply my interpretation. Don't expect the highs and lows to be accurate.   

“So he never had any intention of fixing those trucks, he sent them with broken pipes, claiming to now know they had busted pumps.” Mike snorted clearing his nasal passage, as the coke flooded his mind with an endorphin rush. It was almost as good as sex with you was for him. Almost. What was better? Was if you were here with him. He missed you, but you didn’t approve of this. This process helped him think. His name might come after - Danziger, but he could see the process almost as it was unfolding before him much clearer than his partner, especially when he was at his peak, right now. The only way to make it better,  if you were here. You baby was his ultimate weakness.

The people he wrangled into the room, the dealer neighbors, and crack whores he called to his hotel room, mainly hoping to score those couple grams, willingly share with them. All sitting there with there stick-it notes to there shirts, it finely clicked in there slightly slower minds. There oohs and aahs, the sick fuck statements that filled the room left him nodding in agreement. “Guilty… he’s guilty.” 

The fire chief is not the only one guilty, Mike, oh he burned you over and over, that was how you described it every late-night you came searching for him. I’m at friends, working with Paul, got a trial I’m working. That was how he described it. Just like how he described it tonight on the phone to you. And yet, when you pulled in, the upper room door wide open to see Mikes silhouette bent over the table, and then he reared back his head, bouncing like a boxer might, his nose scrunching up. 

You’re just gonna stand there and watch me burn. 

Mike never heard you slam the car door, or go up the steps, nor did he notice you standing in the doorway till one of the dealers said something. “You looking to join the party sweetheart?” 

Mike spun around to take you in, just as you did with him. You could see it, the way his body was thrumming from the drugs. The intense high that left him jittery, with tense muscles, his biceps straining, the veins in his neck standing at attention, and his face, he took in every bit of information, filing it away in case it was necessary for another time. How had he explained it to you? Oh yes, he was hyper fixated on all details, he was smarter, faster, stronger when he was high. 

It was the crash though that would leave him half dead, so many times you had found him on the verge, but never quite crashed. 

That was just a man playing a dangerous game. It was just a matter of time. 

“No, I’m fucking not looking to join.” You snarled as you entered the room, and Mike took a step forward, trying immediately to appease you. 

“Baby, It’s just for work.” 

“Shut it, Mike, all of you, get the hell out.” 

The girls, the ones you could only begin to guess what they were here for, started bitching immediately. “Hey, we don’t know who you are lady, but we brought the goods, and we’re not leaving till were paid.” 

Your voice might have got shrill when you grabbed your purse off your shoulder and Mike tried to stop you with “Baby, come on, stop, they don’t know any better.” You ripping your purse open and yanking out all the cash you had, your anger now uncontrolled. Throwing those bills at the girl’s faces. “There! Now your fucking paid!” Mike’s hands grasped your arms to prevent you from throwing anything else, the group behind you started to band together, getting mad. The tension in the air between you and the people behind him leaving Mike the barrier. The drugged high barrier protecting each other from one another. 

“Get out! Get out! GET OUT!” You’re now screaming, and Mike looks over his shoulder, his grasp on you so tight it would bruise your forearms. You don’t notice though. Not at this point, You rarely do. 

You like the way it hurts. 

“Get out guys, I got her.” Your rage turned towards Mike, the anger seething just at him now, He got you… Did he get you? 

“Yeah man, she’s killing the vibe.” One of the others said, and Mike pushed you into a corner of the room while your screaming at him, the people passing the two of you, and the door closing with a sharp slam. Leaving the two of you alone. 

“Y/N! Stop it! Fuck, calm down!” Mike yelled right back in your face and you wrench your arm from his hold, slapping him in the face. 

“Let me go.” 

Mikes eyes snap at you, slamming you back into the wall hard enough so your head bounces off the cheap hooker motel, the one you knew he was dipping into the savings to pay for, along with the lines of powder smearing across the nightstand on each side of the bed, and god knows what else was scattered around this room. 

Mike, god he tried to make you understand, it was the only way he could work, that he could keep the thoughts straight. He loved you, so much that it was painful in its own messed up way, one that he lived for. 

Right now it felt like a steel knife was being held to his windpipe, he couldn’t breathe. The way your anger edged on hate, hate, and love was such a fine line he danced on for you. 

Sometimes you were just such a fucking bitch to him, blaming him for all the wrong in your lives. Sometimes you brought him so fucking high, it was a drug all on its own. 

High on his life for you, but drunk on his hate at the same time. 

Mike twisted you onto the bed, dropping you down, and caged you in as he straddled your, biting kisses on your lips and pining your hands above your head, growling into your mouth. “Why you always give me a hard time Woman? It was nothing, Nothing.” 

“Then why you hiding here and not in our home?” His kisses just fueling the hate simmering in your chest, even though your body pressed into him for more. Pulling his head back enough to glare down at you, still, lines of white dust were streaked across his nose, and he bared his teeth at you. 

“Cause I know you hate me for this.” 

He wasn’t lying, you did. Fuck you loved him and hated him at the same time, and it was a constant war within’ yourself. You shake your head with conviction, no no no. He caught your jaw in a hand, fingers digging into your cheeks, probably leave bruises there to. 

“I love the way you lie.” 

Then in a flurry of tugging clothes, the quick demands Mike had on you matched his passion he had discussing his case earlier. He needed you, needed to feel you clenching around him as he debated that he deserved it. Taking whatever he wanted. 

You couldn’t keep up with Mike, your body just moved where his hands pulled you apart, shoving down of your pants gave him access to your cunt, long fingers making you weak underneath him, as well as him mouth, your wrists released enough to grab onto his suspenders, dragging him back to your mouth. 

Maybe you were inhibiting him, catching that coke and whiskey taste lacing his tongue, dirty and filthy, wherever he was through the day filling you to, and his grunts plunged into you just as much as his fingering you was doing. Pulling you apart, he was always pulling you apart and leaving you in pieces. He jerked you in place, hitting against the headboard, making you cuss at him. 

“Shut up Y/N, you’re fine,” Mike said through hissing words against your neck, and your fingers scratch at his back, and grab onto his belt, pulling it, working to the front to start unbuckling it while Mike is yanking on your shirt, knocking your hands loose to lose it over your head, falling back over you to keep you scattered, unable to walk that line you followed. The one where you loved and hated him. There was a rolling of both, you loved to hate him. 

There was venom in your words you spit at him, even now as he was making you thrust on his fingers, stroking your clenching walls, your arousal slicking you ready for him to break you into the mattress, jerking his fingers from you and bringing them to his mouth, pulling away from breasts he left scattered in bites and sucked on his fingers. 

“You always taste best this way.” He groaned and you ran your hands over your face, so fucking on edge from this evening events and him, that your body was still humming to be pushed over the edge. Mike worked his belt open, opening his pants with a yank and the force snapped a suspender lose, giving him enough room now to free himself from his confines. Throbbing and angry to fuck you. 

“Mike, just fuck me already, would you?!”  He slapped at your ass and grasping it, pulling you onto him and wrapping an arm around you to keep you where he needed you. Pounding into you, just as you predicted, this time he was unhinged. Still high, still wound. What started as pain soon was a pleasure and once more you were lost to Mike. 

“Fuck, fuck fuck fuck, right there.” You whined to him, scrambling to match his movements, but there was no way, you just let yourself get railed over and over till you were arching under him, fingers clutching at the hair at the back of his head. “Don’t you dare fucking stop Mike.” 

You two punished each other, push and pull at each other’s hair, scratch and claw at each other, bite at one another till teeth sink claiming into flesh. Screaming into his tense shoulder when he hit your sweet spot, over and over again, trying your best not to give him what he wanted. Cause that was all this was, his way of seeking that satisfying high once more, the one that the drugs couldn’t give him. 

Maybe this was your high? Fuck if you knew. 

Whatever it was destroying you. It destroyed you once more when you came for him. But damn it all to hell if it didn’t give you your own high, in this cheap hooker motel, clutching your destructive man to your body like he was the very air you breath while your eyes rolled back, and your jaw went slack, that look of triumph coming from Mike pissing you off in that second, but then he matched your expression, you both falling, falling into pleasured oblivion. 

Fuck you hated him and loved him, you thought as he smothered you, gasping into his neck as his arms circled around you, keeping you in against him. Mike knew he couldn’t loose you, you were probably the only thing keeping him alive still. Better then any upper and downer he could ever divulge in. Better then any bottle of alcohol he could consume. Better then any hooker he could fuck. 

You were it for him. All your loathing hate and passionate love were what kept him alive. As long as you come back for him, fought against him, loved him. Only you two could live so destructively together, tearing each other apart, and putting one another back together.

Light streamed through the heavy nicotine stained curtains as Mike’s phone screamed in the early morning, making him push off you where he passed out the night before and roll to the edge of the messed up bed. Running a hand through his hair, he dug into his pants pockets, half held up with a remaining suspender and yanked out his phone. 

“Shit, I’m due in court.” He started yanking clothes on, occasionally rubbing at his face in a distracted manner while you groan, and roll in the bed to see his back, head lowered against his hand to try and dispel the pain that came with the after-effects. Pulling up, you take the undone suspender and lope it over his shoulder which he grasped and reattached it to the front of his pants, and looked over his shoulder. 

“Yesterday is over Y/N, today is a different day.” Mike stated while moving to a stand, grabbing his brightly colored shirt and snapping it straight, dropping the straps from his shoulders to put the shirt on. “I will change, I promise. Last time.” 

You move to a stand to take over buttoning his shirt, his fingers shaking to much. Lack of coffee he would normally tell you. Today he didn’t even bother with that lie. So many were spewing from him already. Yours were steady, one at a time fitting them through the holds as you went up, till you reached the end and flipped his collar. 

“Whatever you say, Mike.” You glance around and pick up his tie, fitting that around his neck as well, and looping it around till it sat perfectly against his chest. He grabbed at the back of your neck and tilted your head to look up at him. “I fucking mean it this time Y/N. I’m sorry, okay.” How much truth did he have in those crystal blues? None, none at all. And that was okay. You were just as fucked up as he was cause his chaos kept you alive. Kept you coming back. 

“Okay Mike, I believe you. Go… You have court, and I will see you tonight at home.” Leaning up to place a kiss on his lips, your hands lifted to brush through his hair to fix it. “Go.” 

Grabbing the last of his things, and shoes, he was out the door, leaving you to gather whatever was left and abandon the night before behind. 

In the coming weeks, it seemed to change. His habits became bearable after withdrawals. The first time you experienced them, they scared the hell out of you. Now, now you were familiar with them. Hours to days, days to weeks, Mike woke up with you and went to sleep with you every night, he became an attentive gentle lover, and you two seemed happy. 

It was all wrong. Both of you pretending this way, a happy life. It wouldn’t last, it never did. He hated it, the way his eyes wouldn’t look at you anymore, but skating over you, your fake laugh over the dinner table at a joke he made, making him grind his teeth. Maybe just one last time? He loved you and hated you, he couldn’t ever leave you. But maybe it could be more bearable. Bring back your anger to feed off, feel something good again. He picked up his cell phone and made that call. 

“Yea, how much? That’s good, that’s fine. You be over in an hour? I will have your cash.” 

You wanted him better, healed, himself. But at this point, you didn’t know who was Mike really. You’ve always known him in all his other stages, and this one, he seemed so… fake. Even you were faking your way through the days to show him support. How wrong were you, to miss that destructive piece of shit that made you so mad you wanted to sink into nothingness. Which is what he was able to do for you too. Pulling up to your house, lost in your thoughts and feeling yourself suffocating as you went up the steps, and opening the door, there Mike was, and that pit in your stomach collapsed into the fire, trickling up your spine. Now, this… seeing him humming before you, his words running together to whomever the dealer was, his whole body rigid in excitement. 

This was the Mike you knew, had missed, loved, and hated all at once. Maybe you were just as self-destructive as him. But oh baby, were you ever ready to crash and burn with him. 

Mike swung around, and cursed, preparing for what was to come. 

How fucking much did he miss this? Since the last time. 

Both of you destroying each other in the worst of ways. 

Just gonna stand there and watch me burn

But that's alright, because I like the way it hurts

Just gonna stand there and hear me cry

But that's alright, because I love the way you lie

I love the way you lie

I love the way you lie

[navybrat817]

Peaceful Waves

Story Rating: General Audiences

Relationships: James Mace/Reader

Word Count: 500

Summary: The waves always made him feel peaceful and you knew he made it.

This was written for two challenges! @jtargaryen18′s 30 Days of Chris Challenge and @captain-a-rogerss, @donutloverxo and @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho‘s Captains Weekly Challenge. Prompt for Week 2: “I’m here.”

30 Days of Chris

CaptainsWeeklyChallenge

Mace doesn’t get enough love and this is NOT canon complaint. This is also not beta-read, so any and all mistakes are my own! Enjoy! And sorry for missing any tags. Mace lovers, unite!!!

@nekoannie-chan @newyorkgoddess @feliciahardyn @thedarkplume @grav3dollie-666  @diaamondis @stargazingfangirl18 @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @suzieqsez​ @lilbabycee​ @caffiend-queen​ @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ 

Waves always made James Mace feel peaceful. Looking back, that was always one of the happiest memories of him. Being by the water, watching the faintest of smiles touch his lips when the waves crashed. He was always level headed, but he rarely smiled. Military upbringing was the excuse he made. So you made sure to never forget the moments when he looked happy. 

Standing on the beach, you slowly looked up from the water toward the sun. The sun was dying before. Was. Now it shined like before, bright and strong. Like he was...You knew the mission had been successful because it was such a beautiful day. And warm...so warm. 

That warmth reminded you of how it felt when his arms were around you. He always said you got cold so easily. You made sure to take one of his sweaters with you wherever you went. And when his scent began to fade, you made sure to get his cologne so you wouldn't miss it. He probably would have laughed if he knew. 

You must have been standing too close to the water because the breeze caused a few droplets to hit your face. Wait...no. Those were tears. When did you start crying? You thought you were done with that. It had been months. Years. And it's not like you two had anything special…

The tears didn't slow as you remembered the day he left. He had been focused on the mission. The world needed to be saved. You never once blamed or resented him for that. Humanity meant more than your feelings. And if you held him back, you wouldn't be standing by the beautiful ocean.

Besides, you read too deeply into things. You never got a message from him. Not even a goodbye for you. It hurt at first. Some days it still felt raw, like a wound that just wouldn't heal. There would always be a place in your heart for him and that was why you still hadn't moved on. It would always be him. 

"You know...seeing the waves soothed me when I was up there."

"Mace," you exhaled as you turned around, your feet moving before your mind could process that he was standing in front of you. Falling into his open arms wasn't your most dignified moment, but it didn't matter.

“I’m here.”

Having him there brought fresh tears to your eyes. "I'm sorry, Mace. God, I'm such a mess."

"You're not a mess. You're beautiful," he swore, wiping a tear away with his thumb.

"When did you turn into such a sap?" you teased. 

"Maybe I've always been a sap," he smirked. "And…I should have done this a long time ago."

Feeling his lips against yours didn't feel like fireworks. Those faded away too quickly. This was a continuous burn. Instead of pulling away, you let yourself get swept up in it. And if it was like getting too close to the sun...at least you'd burn together.

[chris-evans-indian-fanfic]

Voice

One-Shot

Description: When Mr Freezy enters your life, your peaceful world is destroyed.

Warnings: Non-consensual, voyeurism, masturbation, verbal abuses, harsh language and hints of necrophilia

DO NOT PROCEED IF THESE THINGS UPSET YOU. THIS IS A VERY DARK STORY. ONLY PROCEED IF YOU ARE 18+

This one-shot is my entry for Week 5 of @donutloverxo 's superfun writing challenge. This time, the challenge was based on GIFs. The one I selected will appear in the story below. Click here to participate in their weekly challenges

A/N- I blame @jtargaryen18 for making me an unholy hoe for Mr Freezy! 

My Main Masterlist

I don’t consent to have any of my work published or featured on any third party app, website or translated. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but Tumblr and AO3, it has been reposted without my permission. In that case, please do share the link and let me know.

…

You were living the best life in 1969. Working part-time at the ice-cream parlor in the mornings, hanging out with your friends in the evening and sneaking out for parties at night, you loved your routine, carefree life in New Jersey.

Your foot bobbed along the tunes of Honky Tonk Woman by The Rolling Stones as you read that month's fashion magazine, sitting by the new, shiny cassette player. Taking pride in the fact that your family was the first in the neighborhood to buy the expensive cassette player, latest in the technology of playing music, you smirked as you delicately, almost teasingly fondled the device. 

*beep beep*

The annoying horn of the filthy ice-cream truck broke you out of your reverie. Scowling, you turned to look at the abomination on 4 wheels parked right in front of your house. The long-haired driver, who called himself Mr Freezy, always gave you creepy vibes. Maybe he thought his wide smile would lure in more children, but it never failed to make your skin crawl with disgust. 

You tried your best to ignore him and his irritating horn, hoping that he would drive away soon enough. Unfortunately, it was a hot summer's day and there was a long, winding line of customers.

After yet another *beep beep* you slammed down the magazine on the table. Walking out in your pinkish-red knee-length skirt and long-sleeved top, you had a good mind to tell Mr Freezy off.

Standing in front of his ice-cream truck window, you stomped your foot and placed your hands on your hips. "How can I help you Ms Jello Mould?" his disgusting attempt at comparing you to a dessert sent a chill down your spine. 

"You have a long line of customers! Stop pressing your horn every 5 seconds!" you exclaimed, gesturing your hands towards the waiting people.

Mr Freezy chuckled, but the mirth didn't reach his eyes behind the glasses, "Now now. That is no way to talk to someone who is older than you Raspberry Ripple," he said in a friendly tone, "Not everybody can afford to buy a cassette player." 

"Maybe you can if you cleaned your ice-cream truck once in a while," you spat, purposefully covering your nose, "I work in an ice-cream parlor, and no establishment dealing with ice-creams should stink like this!" 

"My customers don't seem to mind it Sugar," his sweet tongue rolling the last word as if he was drooling.

You huffed, "I mind it! And stop with the horn! Or I will have daddy make sure you are never seen here again." And with that hardly intimidating threat, you walked towards your house. Mr Freezy licked his lips as he saw your silhouette disappear behind the front door. He could put your bratty nature to good use. Very good use indeed.

🍦

Dressed in a brown checkered dress, you sauntered home after your shift ended, your spirits high as you looked forward to being Ricky's date tonight at the party.

As you entered your home, your eyes fell upon the new cassette sitting besides your beloved player. Squealing with excitement, you rushed and grabbed the plastic box, hurriedly prying it open. To your surprise, a few photographs of you and Ricky fell out of the case with the words "Does daddy know about him?" scribbled on the back of every photograph.

No no no. OH GOD NO! you panicked as you rifled through the images. Your parents had no idea about your nightlife, let alone your boyfriend! These lovey-dovey photographs threatened to reveal your secret and ruin your life.

You found another note in the box behind the cassette, "There are plenty where these came from. Now be a good girl and play the cassette." Just beneath the sentence, a chocolate bar was roughly drawn in the corner and the words “My Chocolate Fudge” were written in small letters. 

Your hands trembled as you hit play. A raspy voice greeted you from the device.

"Hey baby." You knew this voice, who was he? "Has daddy's little princess recognised me?" You were pretty shaken up, your mind refused to let go of the terror and think straight for a moment as your thumbs rubbed against one another.

"Oohh Sugar, what am I going to do with you?" the voice chuckled. That sentence brought you to a complete halt. It was Mr Freezy! How dare he threaten you like this?

Before you could form any coherent thought, he tut-tutted in annoyance, "How can an ordinary ice-cream man like me trouble a beautiful young woman such as yourself? What will Daddy say? Let's call Daddy shall we? I am sure he would enjoy looking at how well Ricky can fondle his daughter's breasts."

You felt numb as his words sank in. If your father found out, he would have you sent to the country, to his relatives who lived on a farm! Eww!! You shuddered, overcome with disgust as the cassette continued.

"Now Sugar, we don't need to tell Daddy about us. Do we?" You shook your head in response. "Very good," Mr Freezy continued, "Open the curtains to your right, and look at the house across the street."

You followed the instructions, and nearly choked on your spit. There he was, in your neighbour's house, smiling and waving from their first-floor window. "Follow my next instructions very carefully, or I will make sure that your entire neighborhood comes to know about the wonderful kisser that Ricky is."

You could only nod in response. No matter what, you could not afford to let your family be humiliated because of your actions. 

"From now on, hit pause after you finish every command. And hurry, we haven't got all day Sugar. Your mother will be home soon. And if she is home before I am done with you, then let's just say tonight there wouldn't be any dessert for you," you gulped in agreement.

"Pull up a chair near the window and place the player near you." Your fear slowed you down and the recorder kept on playing, "Face the window, and strip." After a pause, you heard, "Sit on the chair and spread your legs wide. Keep your feet on the windowsill."

The rest of the commands fell on deaf ears as your body was stunned in shock. Did this man… really? You couldn't. You wouldn't. Maybe you could still apologise…

Tears brimmed in your eyes as you realised what this man wanted you to do. It was almost 4:30pm and people would soon fill the street in front of your house. If anybody decided to even look towards the window, they would surely see your body on full display.

As if reading your thoughts, Mr Freezy shook his head and pointed to his wristwatch.

You knew your mother would be home before 5:30pm. Whatever you had to do, you would have to do it quickly. 

With trembling hands, you paused the cassette, and obeyed his first two commands, the upholstery on the chair feeling warm against your naked bottom. From this angle, you couldn't see him, but you were sure he was keeping an eye on you.

You were correct. 

Mr Freezy sucked on his ice-cream bar as he watched the scene unfold. His tongue working the cold dessert as if it were your core. A small bite here, a suck there, and his length was already aching in his pants.

"Oooo look at that slutty pussy! Just waiting for a man's touch," his voice cooed from the recorder, "Play with your clit with one hand, and bring your other hand to your breast."

You begrudgingly relented, wanting to get it all over with soon. Heat flooded to your face as the indignity of your actions set in.

Across the street, Mr Freezy unzipped his pants, and started rubbing the neighbor's panty on his shaft, his touch fleetingly light as he sucked on the bar. He bit into the ice-cream when you rubbed your clit, the cold going straight to his length.

"I love how your plump breasts bounce everytime you take a step. A man can get lost in those curves of yours," his raspy voice continued, "Squeeze your breast lightly. Feel it's roundness. Tease your nipple too. Fondle it with one finger." 

You bit your lips as you followed his instructions. You had masturbated a few times and had even reached third base with Ricky, but it had never felt like this. You knew this was humiliation in answer to your rude behaviour. But this… it felt… good. You were ashamed to admit it, but as the teasing prolonged, you started feeling the familiar and ever elusive knot building up in your stomach.

"Yes yes yes baby. Rub that clit harder. Make that pussy wet for me. But don't you dare enter a finger in your cumhole." 

He watched as your hips thrust upwards, desperate for friction, as he started pumping himself faster. 

"Slap that boob," he commanded as another moan escaped your lips, "slap harder!" and you did. "Pinch your nipple and pull it. Pull it you cock sucking bitch."

More wetness pooled at your core as you continued to play with your body. 

"Stop," said Mr Freezy's voice. At first you thought you misheard him and so you didn't.

"I said STOP YOU FUCKING BITCH," his shouts from the player sounded as clear as a bell. 

Startled, you brought yourself to a complete stop. Despite yourself, the sudden cessation left you feeling disappointed and hungry for more. "Pause this recording. Go to the full-length mirror in your room and have a good look at yourself," his voice urged you.

Meanwhile, Mr Freezy had come undone across the street, his thick release coating the neighbor's cotton panties. He sighed as he used the neighbor's brassiere to wipe himself clean. He was longing to get a taste of you. Too bad he had other things planned for you instead.

You ran towards your room, trying to hide your nakedness as much as you could. You didn't recognise the woman in the reflection. Hair astray, lips and cheeks slightly flushed, puffed breath, eyes wide and the hair on your mound glistening with your arousal. You couldn't bring yourself to meet your eyes reflected in the mirror. 

You carefully went downstairs, and resumed the cassette.

"Saw the slut in the mirror? That's who you are bitch. A whore for a man's cock. Don't let Ricky touch that filthy pussy again, or I will fill you with my cum infront of your Daddy while he watches," the cassette ended with the heavy threat.

🍦

You were living the worst life in 1969. Quite often, you came home to a new cassette with new instructions recorded on them. Everytime, the plastic box was filled with naked photographs of your previous lewd acts. Up until now, you had jumped naked in front of the window, placed ice on different parts of your body, deep-throated an ice-cream bar and stripped to a vulgar song. 

Tonight however, it was different. He had asked you to carry a bottle of wine (that he kept on your bed while you were gone) and go to a hotel at midnight. Mr Freezy had explicitly mentioned that you were to wear only your bra and panty. Still, you covered yourself with a long coat as you snuck out of the house.

The hotel, if you could call an almost crumbling building that, was in the notorious part of town. With your heart pounding in your throat, you shed your coat and knocked on the door. A large man answered, his smirk widening as he took in your appearance. "You Buffy's girl?" you nodded just as you had been instructed. The stranger pulled your breast and dragged you into the room. 

He smacked your ass as he grabbed the wine bottle with another, "Buffy always sends the best stuff."

He was swift in opening the bottle, chugging the liquid down as if it was water. You shuddered at the thoughts of what this man was capable of doing to you. Tears filled your eyes at the realisation.

The man looked at you and, without warning, shoved the glass bottle in your mouth. "Drink. I like it when my prostitutes are drunk." His gaze swept over your entire body. One second you were gulping down the foul liquid, the next you were gasping for breath as he pulled the cups of your bra and poured the liquid down your torso, "Let these girls drink too! Lets get hammered baby!" he exclaimed as he pulled the elastic band of your panty and poured the wine on your mound. 

He laughed maniacally as you squirmed in his grip. Drinking the last of the drops, he pulled you into his lap, licking and sucking at the wine currently following down your figure. 

Your protests only spurred him on, but it all lasted only for a few seconds. 

You felt the stranger's body seize with yours. Breath coming in harsh rasps, you felt your throat constricting as sharp pain shot in every nerve of your body. Your agony, along with the stranger's, lasted only for a few minutes as your shallow breaths became few, finally coming to a raggedy stop.

Mr Freezy smiled a lopsided grin into his binoculars. He hurried across the street, grabbing the girl's dead body and dumping it into his ice-cream truck.

He happily hummed when he saw the ice slowly creep up your skin. You see, this profession had turned Mr Freezy cold, inside out. To an extent where he despised the warmth of a pussy around his cock. He craved the cold. He craved you.

__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__

Taglist open! Just comment, send an ask or message!

[cheeseburgersstuff]

Backfired

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Warnings: Smut! Asshole Ransom 🤷‍♀️ language? (shitty writing... I think I'm getting worse day by day)

A/N: This is for the challenge by @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho @captain-a-rogerss @donutloverxo 💕

•~•

Her hand squeezed his thigh making him more annoyed than he already was.

First, she forced him to attend his stupid family's dinner, and then she was teasing him while his family was arguing.

He looked at her with stern expressions but that only made her smile innocently.

His family was too busy to notice the tension between them. She pressed her body on his pretending to take the glass on his side.

"Don’t make me take you home and punish you.” ransom whispered, his voice sending chills down her spine.

She sat back and continued eating while listening to the family bickering.

Again she started touching him, her hands brushing on his accidentally, her knees kept bumping his.

When she didn't keep her hands to herself and kept teasing him, he pushed the chair and stood up.

Everyone got silenced and looked at him in confusion. Y/n tried to suppress her smile, she was successful in making him annoyed which wasn't a different task. 

He was easy to make, annoy, and angry.

"I think we should go now" his tone was harsh. 

"So soon?" Joni interrupted only to get ignored by him.

Ransom took y/n's hand and dragged her outside the house.

"Sit in the car," he said as if she had another option. She rolled her eyes and sat inside.

He grabbed her jaw "you are in no position to show me this attitude sweetheart. Just gonna make it worse for yourself." He warned before sitting inside as well.

The ride home was painfully slow and silent. 

She knew the consequences of making him pissed but still, she couldn't help and feel a bit scared.

When they finally reached home she got out and went inside without sparing a glance towards him.

He smirked seeing her running away and decided how he was going to punish her.

~

He entered his room finding her there. Before she could say anything he pushed her against the wall and kissed her fiercely. She moaned feeling his hands-on her body.  He pulled out and grabbed her hair, making her sit on her knees. 

"Open your mouth"  opening his pants he took out his cock.

She looked at him in confusion. She was expecting a good spanking before getting into anything else. 

"Don't make me wait." he hissed causing her to open her mouth.

She took him on her hands and licked his shaft. 

Her slow pace was making him impatient, he thrust himself inside her mouth. 

"Can't do anything properly huh!" He started to move his hips.

Tears came out of her eyes feeling him touching her throat. She tried to swallow and control her breathing.

"Oh shit … do that again." He groaned pushing her more towards him. 

She tried to push him away knowing he was near. She wanted him inside her pussy, not mouth.

He chuckled knowing what she was doing, "oh no sweetheart, be a good girl and take whatever I'm giving you" 

He spilled inside her moaning her name. He made sure she took everything before pulling out. 

Y/n looked fucked up with messy hair and tear-stained face. 

She looked at him frowning but he only gave a cocky smirk.

"You think I don't know what you were doing making me annoyed." He chuckled.

He bent down towards her, " I know how much you enjoy your punishment, so I thought why not change it. So from now on you’re not gonna get anything." 

And giving her wink he turned to go inside the bathroom, to clean himself. “And don’t you dare think about touching yourself. 

She sat on the floor in disbelief. Ransom indeed was an asshole, the whole world knew that but that too much.

She sighed and rubbed her legs to comfort her throbbing pussy.

And then she decided if he could change the punishment then she could also change the ways to tease him and make it torturer than before...

[unnuevosoltransformalarealidad]

Let Me

Title:  Let Me

Summary: After your breakup, Chris is there to take care of you

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Prompt:  Let me help you

Warnings: angst, depression (kind of), past abusive relationship (mention), clumsiness, fluffy Chris

Word Count: 1338

This was written for the Weekly Challenge #2 of @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho @donutloverxo @captain-a-rogerss

A/N: This wasn’t proof-read so if there’s any mistake, please let me know, English is not my mother tongue, and I’m still learning. Enjoy the reading!

Flashbacks are in italics 

Being best friend with someone meant no hiding secrets, but you needed to do it. You’ve been friends with Chris for almost your whole life, but there were a few things you couldn’t share with anyone.  It wasn’t something you were proud of, but it was the best for everyone.

Chris tried to keep in touch with you, he texted every week, he even tried to call you, but you couldn’t answer, you texted him back a few times, but it didn’t matter, he wanted to keep in touch and you couldn’t lose that friendship. Chris knew you were dating, they have met a few times throughout your relationship, but Chris had a bad feeling about him, but he never said anything, he saw you happy with that guy, and that’s what that matter for him, your happiness.

Chris made sure to let you know you could trust him and that he was going to be with you know matter what. At first, you didn’t understand why he kept reminding you that, but that changed when everything got bad in your relationship.

You’ve just ended a 2 year relationship, and it ended in the worst way possible. Your, now ex, boyfriend did the worst things to you that anyone can imagine. You were laying on a bed with your phone in hand thinking about what had happened and deciding if you should text Chris or not.

Flashback

You were cleaning the house because James was coming from work, and something he always wanted was the house clean. Once you finish with the cleaning, you started to make dinner. You wanted to make something special, because you felt it necessarily, you wanted to surprise him. You were wrong, James thought that special dinner was because you were hiding something from him, he had been abusing psychologically from you after the first year of relationship. He found out that Chris kept texting you and he was certain that you were cheating on him with Chris. Even though you tried to explain it, it was useless. James was not going to listen, he went crazy.

End of Flashback

When you realized, you were shaking and sobbing so hard that you couldn’t breathe. “Y/N you need to calm down” you thought to yourself “deep breaths only” you kept saying to yourself. You unlocked your phone and open the only chat you had, with Chris. The last text you got it was from two days ago and it read “Hope your ok. I really miss you”. You took a deep breath and started to write:

Y/N: I’m sorry I didn’t text back, I was kind of busy –you send and waited

CE: Don’t worry doll. I understand – he texted back two minutes later

Y/N: Are you busy right now?

CE: No. Is everything alright? –he asked and a choked sobbed escape from your mouth

Y/N: Can you come over? –you asked nervously

CE: Yeah, sure. I’ll be there in 10. See you

Y/N: Ok, thanks. The door is open.

You texted back and waited, those ten minutes were enough to pack all your stuff. You were pretty sure James wasn’t going to show never again. You started to pack and more memories came back.

Flashback

He was screaming at you, saying you were useless and you were just an ugly slut. He always treated you like an inferior, but never to the point of touching you. The first moment you tried to apologize to him for something you didn’t do it, he punched you directly on your face, you weren’t able to react, you were too frightened to do anything, he lift you from the floor with such a strength that it almost broke your arm, or that’s what you thought. You don’t remember much about what happened next, but when you realize it he was gone, he was no longer in the house, you needed to leave now.

End of Flashback

You were crying again and shaking, you were really scared, you were trying to compose yourself so the packing was done fast, so you could leave that place for good and never comeback, but the fear and the pain you had, made it nearly impossible. You heard a knock in your door and you froze, you couldn’t move, you couldn’t react; and then, your phoned buzzed

CE: Y/N, are you at home?

CE: It’s me. Open up

Y/N: Yeah. I’ll go

You went to the front door, and opened. You knew he was going to ask, but you needed to leave first.

-Hey doll, what happened? –Chris asked –He did it? –he asked again in an angrier tone

-I’ll explain later. We need to go out of here first –Y/N cut him off

-No, wait –Chris said grabbing Y/N’s injured arm

-Ouch –Y/N said wincing to the touch

-Sorry –Chris said looking to the bruised arm.

-I’ll explain later, I promise. But I need to finish packing –Y/N said looking to his eyes.

Chris didn’t say anything else, he saw the disaster in the dining room and his heart broke a little, he never imagined something like that was happening to his best friend.  He followed Y/N to her bedroom; he saw that she was halfway done with packing. Chris finished her packing and Y/N was able to change her clothes and when she was ready, they left.

The ride to Chris’ house was quiet, Y/N was bouncing her leg, Chris could tell she was anxious, and she was scared, because of all those years of friendship, he was able to read her and tell what was going on. His heart broke a little more by seeing her like that. Chris was blaming himself for not being able to recognize the signs, the small talks, not answering many texts, not visiting him, he could tell that she was getting apart of him, but he never imagined it was because of his douche bag of an ex.

-I know what you’re thinking –Y/N cut Chris’ thoughts –and yes, it was James. –she added

-Is it…? –Chris wasn’t able to form a sentence because of the pain he was feeling

-Yes, it’s the first time he does it, physically –Y/N said –but not mentally and emotionally –she admitted

-When? –Chris asked angrily, his knuckles turning white

-After the first year –Y/N admitted, now she was crying again –I don’t know exactly what triggered it, but always he had something mean to say –she commented

-I know I shouldn’t asked this, but I have to –Chris finally could speak

-I don’t know, honestly –Y/N answered knowing the question –I had a felling you know, I had faith that he was going to change. I tried to tell you, but I was afraid –Y/N said in almost a whisper

-Afraid of what? –Chris asked and immediately he pulled over so he could pay attention to her only

-I was afraid that you wouldn’t believe me –Y/N admitted to Chris without looking at him

Chris grabbed Y/N’s hand and said –I’m always going to believe you, love. –He gave a gentle squeeze and added –Don’t ever doubt that.

Y/N finally looked at him and gave him a little smile.

-Let’s get home and we will figure it out –Chris said igniting the engine of the car

-It’s not necessary Chris –Y/N said –Can you take me to the nearest motel? –Y/N asked

-Let me take you home –Chris said and moved in the seat so he was facing her –Let me help you, please –he begged

-I don’t want to bother you –Y/N answered

-You are not a bother, sweet, I want to help you, please –Chris begged again

-Ok –Y/N nodded and grabbed Chris’ hand and squeezed it

-Can I take you to the hospital? –Chris asked –I don’t like how your arm looks –he added concerned

-Please, it’s hurting really bad –Y/N admitted and a tear slipped her cheek

Chris put his hand on her cheek, stopping the tear, Y/N melt under his touch

[optimistic-dinosaur-nacho]

Blood Roses

Dark!Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Language, Kidnapping (That’s all I got cause I’m not doing smut) Summary: You don’t remember anything since that crash. But someone who claims to be your husband is taking very good care of you. Until you found out the truth of your real life.

This goes for the weekly challenge! The Moodboard choosing is up above! If you want to join! Click here Weekly Challenge 

Going into 3 challenges which is crazy? I’ve never done that before

As always lovely people @donutloverxo @captain-a-rogerss 

Check out the other two challenges!

@sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ - Challenge Time

@jtargaryen18​ - 30 Days of Chris

Might seem familiar to some, it does have similarities to a movie I once watched.

~~~

“Y/N!” He roars out, you were whimpering, running through the forest with a large limp. Your head turning back every second and turn you took on the trail. “I’m not in the mood for this!” He continues.

He sounded closer than usual and you immediately slid down the hill and hid in the leaves. Your wheezing and cries were audible so you closed your hand over your mouth. 

His broad shoulders came into view and his pace was quick down the trail, you knew he was gonna find you and catch you quickly. Your ankle ached, you stood up and stepped on a twig, causing it to snap. You gasped. “Where are you, sweetheart?”

. 24 Hours Earlier .

He said your home was miles from town. You remembered what he said to you, keeping you in the house and took care of you. He was there when you first woke up. Claiming to be your husband, he bought you your favorite flowers. Red roses.

He held your hand with the wedding rings touching each other as they come together once again. He kissed your knuckles and smiled softly. 

“You’re safe with me.”

Not knowing who he was, he tried to name all the things you two used to do together. He said you would ride on his motorcycle at nights. He even brought you to work to meet his friends. Had a few beers, laugh and all. Gotten married not too long after.

The night on that special day, he said he wouldn’t forget it. Even showing you a photo of you two in a wedding picture. He had a clean shave at the time, he said you wanted him to grow it out but you don’t remember anything.

You were hoping to remember him.

Steve Rogers. The day he met you in the hospital, he introduced himself again and he sounded heartbroken almost. Almost a few days of being in the hospital and getting to know Steve more, he took you home.

They gave you a cane and a wheelchair. He helped you in and out of the car. The house was big. Steve said there was a lake that was down the trail a bit, said that you two would go down there and watch the sun hit the waters.

He took you there once. Enjoying the sun setting in the distance, giving the water a nice gleam of peace. It calmed you. You tried walking around with a cane. Steve told you not to work on that ankle a lot around the house. Make it worse as it is.

You were mostly in the wheelchair.

You were smelling the bacon and eggs as you stared outside, looking out to the rose bushes that seem to be blowing with the wind. Sometimes you’d see Steve go out and cut them. Putting them in the flower vase at the table in front of you.

“Did you hear me, sweetheart?” His voice beams. You inhaled softly and turned your head to look over your shoulder. You hum, “What?” Steve puts the breakfast onto a plate and takes it over to you. “You zoned out, everything okay?” He asked.

You look at him and give him a grin, “Yeah. Just thinking.” Steve wore a dark sweatshirt that was too tight on him. You could see the muscle bulge out of his shirt on the urge to rip through. He quirks a grin, “What were you thinking about?” He asked.

He came behind you as you shook your head, “Just trying to think about what we did before this happened.” Steve’s hands come to your shoulders and he gently massaged them.

“It’s gonna be okay. I’m gonna head out, though. Stop by the office to say hi to a couple of friends and I’ll grab some groceries for tonight’s dinner. You look up and smiled at him. “Okay. I was thinking about walking around the house, anyway. To see if anything could trigger my memory.”

His hands tighten on your shoulders before he released them, “Don’t overdo it, sweetheart.” He takes his leather jacket and slips it on. “I’ll be back.” He grabs his keys and placed a kiss on your head.

You didn’t remember him, but it was nice that he still loved you no matter what. But you weren’t sure why you married him. You couldn’t remember. You weren’t sure if you loved him anymore. But he was a nice man.

You hear him leave and you continued to finish your breakfast. After you did, you took your cane and stood up. Wincing slightly at your ankle that you fractured in your crash. 

You had been in an accident and they said you’d have to walk for a few minutes, heal your ankle every once in a while. You walked around the house. Walking into a room that happened to be Steve’s office, you saw his computer on the desk. You sat down and opened his computer. 

A password was needed.

You bit the inside of your cheek and thought about adding the date of your wedding that Steve had told you. It didn’t work. You added your favorite flower into the password. Roses. Nothing. You leaned back in your chair and thought it through.

Why were you going into his space? He wouldn’t like you doing into his things. You sighed and stood up again, catching the wifi router by his desk. Steve said you don’t have signal. You reached for it and saw that the back of it was ripped. Shredded.

You placed the router box back and felt suspicious about that. You left his office and limped into the living room to looked around and find something familiar to trigger something.

You turn and saw Steve slam a guy into the wall, aggressively slamming his head against the wall with full force. You gasped and blinked, almost stumbling so you catch yourself on the table, toppling a few things over. 

You look back and Steve was not slamming no one into the wall. They were gone. What the hell was that? You puffed out a sigh and looked towards the table you caught yourself with and lifted the fallen frame up.

The wedding picture of you and Steve. You grin softly at the picture, seeing how happy you two were. You wished you remembered the day. But your smile faltered at the sudden picture.

Steve’s face was almost a different tone than the neck part of him. As if he plastered his own face on someone else’s. Even his shoulders were huge but the picture, he didn’t have shoulder mass.

You fixed the frame on the desk and looked over to the next photo. You and Chris at a friend’s party, he had his arm around you and your smiles were big. That one seemed normal. Maybe it’s just your eyes seeing things. You eventually relaxed and did match the card game to regain your memory.

Steve came back home an hour later, getting dinner ready for you and him. He thought having a special night, he could try and start all over. Have you get to know him more.

But your mind was on the photo. The wedding one. The unknown flash of him shoving another man’s head into the wall. It had you staring at the table, thinking. Steve peered up and furrowed his brows. “What’s going on?” He asked. 

The room you two sat in, it was dimly lit. The candle at the center of the table was lit and you had a glass of wine by your plate. You look up to him as he took a bite from his food, really wondering what was up.

Could you tell him?

“The photo...” You said. Steve looks up to you in confusion, “What photo?” He continued to eat. You watched him eat, seeing his movements closely. “The wedding photo. It looked strange to me.”

Steve stops and looks up to you, his jawing tensing as he chewed. “What?” He asks. You inhaled softly and blinked up at him, “I saw you... and another man... you were bashing his head in.” 

You noticed his grip on the fork got tight and he managed to laugh softly, “Sweetheart, I think your mind is making things up. But it’s okay, I can give you your pills when we go to bed.”

“No.”

Steve looks up to you, “No?” Your eyes seem to stare at his, your hands twitching out of fear. “You messed with the router... That’s why my nurse isn’t calling.”

Steve shook his head, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, sweetheart-”

“Don’t call me that. Who are you?” Steve was frozen now. But he chuckled, “You know who I am. I’m your husband.”

You shook your head at him. Steve stood up, his face was dark with anger. Or what you thought. You stood up as well, shaking. Steve comes around towards you, your eyes dart to the wine and you reached for it at the right time. Steve went to reach for you but you slammed the glass on his head.

The man falls on the ground and you gasped. Limping on your foot, you take your cane. Reaching for his phone in his back pocket, you ran out the door. You whimpered as you ran through the front yard, walking into the dirt that he said was gonna be a farm soon.

You look back to make sure he wasn’t following till you fell. With a yelp, you hit the ground and landed in the dirt. A shovel was beside you and you turned to see a hand sticking out of the ground. You gasped till something hits you on the side of the head.

.

Your eyes fluttered open to the light. You winced and Steve’s face came into your peripheral. He looked down at you, “It’s gonna be okay, sweetheart.” You don’t remember what happened. Your eyes close again and he walked up the stairs to take you to your bedroom. 

Placing you down on the bed, you fully brought your vision back. He reached up to your head, “Oh, you’re bleeding. Here,” He walks into the bathroom and grabs a wet rag to wipe the blood off your forehead.

“What... What happened?” You mumbled, Steve hisses at the sight of your head. “You were running on that ankle. Hit your head when you fell. You can’t go running out like that.”

He finished off cleaning your head and he sighs. “Here, you need to take your pills.” You shook your head, “No. I don’t need them.” He pulled one out, “Don’t start. You need to take it, it can help you.” You tried to push him away but he managed to get it in your mouth and handed you the glass.

He forces you to drink it and he pulls the glass away. “There. Now get some sleep.” He helped you slip under the covers and he stood up. He pulled his shirt over his head and revealed his bare torso. 

You watch him as he undoing his belt and tugged down his jeans to join you in bed. He slipped in next to you and lightly reached for your arm. Once his fingers touched your arm, you jolted causing him to sigh. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

.

You woke up the next morning, feeling sore as always. Walking around has your ankle aching in pain as you sat up. Steve was already gone so you stood up, taking your cane in hand and headed out into the hall.

You met the stairs. You stopped. With one bad foot, it could be one bad fall. You took the risk. You stepped down and hissed, bumping your ankle on one of the steps. You grabbed the railing to hold yourself up along with your cane. 

Almost there. You felt too proud of yourself and that all goes downhill when you take misstep and you fall forward. “Woah!” Steve comes around the corner and catches you in his arms. You grab his bicep and chuckled breathlessly. 

“You’re up. And walking?” He says, you stable yourself on the ground floor and looked up to him, “Thank you.”

“You got to be careful with that ankle.” You furrow your brows when you see him in his leather jacket. “You’re heading out?” You asked, Steve looks down and nods. “I just need to pick up something. I’ll be back. Don’t walk around for too much.”

He kisses you once again just like yesterday, making you feel like it was a repeating day. Once the door close you looked around the home. You remembered running and you fell. You remembered everything coming back. You head for the garage.

Limping your way in, you grimaced at the smell that was in the garage. Heading over to the black car, you walked into the front seat and sat down. Looking for the keys, you came across a phone.

You stared at it and took it in hand, opening the screen you see yourself and another man. Not Steve. The man was hugging you, placing a kiss on your head.

You gasped and covered your mouth. You hear the front door open and close. “Sweetheart, I forgot something!” You hear him call. You opened the trunk thinking something can be used to defend yourself. You popped it open, making a loud beeping sound in the garage. You limped over to the back and screamed.

A man was laying in the trunk, completely loss of color. His eyes were opened, staring at you. You fell on the ground. Steve comes in and sees you on the ground. “Sweetheart, what are you doing-?” He stops when he sees the trunk open.

His eyes turned dark. Just like at the table. “I thought I told you not to go through things.”

“Who are you!” You screamed, kicking away, “Just let me go! Please!” He comes towards you and you tried to scoot back. “Please, don’t hurt me.” Steve takes both your ankles causing you to yell in pain and he grabs your waist and throws you over his shoulder.

“I thought we agreed you’d stay in the wheelchair. I trusted you,” He says. You sobbed as he carried you out of the garage. “Please, just let me go! I won’t tell anyone about this!” You plead.

He chuckles darkly, “I don’t think you have that choice, sweetheart. Not anymore.” You sob as he practically tosses you on the bed. You tried to scoot away from him, bringing your back to the bedpost. He takes your injured ankle with a grip causing you to shout in pain again. 

“Please! I won’t go through anything!” He pulls out a rope and puts your ankle on the metal post. He began to tie your ankle to it. “You’re mine. I love you. You know that?” He says.

You sobbed as he ties it and walks over to pull a strand behind your ear, you flinched under his touch. Steve leans in and places a kiss on your lips. You tugged on your ankle and bit at his lip causing him to pull away with a yell.

He brings his hand to his lip, his bottom lip bled. His hand hovers over your ankle that was bound to the post, you knew what was gonna happen. “Please... don’t... I’m sorry-” You shout in pain as he grabs your ankle and tightens his grip. 

You scream out and he lets go, fuming with anger, “If you continue with problems, I will decide what happens. When I come back and I see you on this bed still. Maybe I’ll consider.” He looks at you one last time before heading out the door. 

You then hear the door lock on the other side.

Whimpering, you tugged your foot. Yelling in pain, you try to reach for the rope tied to the post. The knots were tight enough to not let your finger pull at them. All you could do was tug your foot.

You hear his car leave and you continued to tug your foot. The roughness of the rope dug and scraped against your skin like it was on fire. Your ankle was red enough to the harsh crash. You needed to leave this house.

You struggled more, shouting every second. You could possibly take the trail and find service somewhere and use that phone you found. You slipped it into your pocket. Steve luckily didn’t search your pockets. You felt your ankle slowly crack a few bones causing you to grip the sheets and shout. Your foot them slips out and you quickly limped over to the door.

You pulled the door and it doesn’t open. “Shit...” You look around the room and found the small bowl on the dresser. You found a hair pin and limped back over to the door.

It took you about 10 minutes to unlock it. Once it clicked, you ripped the door open and limped out, he left your cane in the garage. You didn’t need it. Right now, you needed to get out.

You rushed out of the house and stumbled into the rose bush. You pulled away and saw blood on your hand. Looking toward the rose, you saw blood. Your hand was bleeding. 

You hear beeping and looked up to the front door. Above it was a camera. Steve is gonna come back. You pulled your phone out and began to lift it, rushing out to the trail. 

Pushing through the brush, you pant and whimper. You tripped over a rock and hit the ground with a loud ‘oof’. You then hear a car door close. You lifted yourself up and yelped in pain when you stood on your foot. 

“Y/N,” Steve’s voice sounded like a warning, “I’m not in the mood for your games.” His feet were heavy against the dirt as he rushed through the same trail he saw you go on the trail.

You limped further down the trail, “Y/N!” He roars. You sobbed quietly and slid down the hill. You hid in the leaves as his broad shoulders and blonde dark locks came into your view as he stormed further down the trail.

You stood up once he passed and turned the other trail. Stepping on a twig. “Where are you, sweetheart?” He calls. You stumble on your feet and rushed down the trail. Raising the phone up to the sky, you couldn’t run down the road for miles. You could probably call the police. 

“Goddammit, Y/N!” He shouts. You come across the dock towards the lake and you were completely stuck now. You rushed over to the brush and hid. Steve’s boots hit the dock, walking down the dock. You turned to see a log by your side.

Taking it in hand, you slowly emerged from the brush and came up behind him. Going for the swing, Steve turns and catches it at mid-swing. His face darkens, with a tug, it jerked you and you fell into the lake. 

You feel yourself sink further as it got colder the more you sunk. You tried to swing up but you couldn’t. You see his silhouette at the surface staring down. You watched his figure disappear off the dock, walking away. You saw the bubbles float around you and up.

You then closed your eyes and choked on the water.

You gasped for air and rose from the tub, slightly choking and you looked around. “Y/N?” Someone called, you jumped when they entered the bathroom and looked at you.

“You okay?” They asked. You blew out a exhale and nodded, “Yeah... sorry.” He shook his head, “It’s okay. Maybe consider taking a shower instead?” He slightly jokes, you tried to smile.

He turns away till you slightly rose, “Steve?” He peaks his head around, “Yeah?” He asks. You swallowed thickly and grinned softly. “Could you maybe pour me wine when I get out?” Steve looks down at the ground and softly nodded. 

“Of course. I’ll cook dinner, too.” You nodded and he gave you a grin. “Okay. Love you, sweetheart.”

“Love you too...”

~~~

Oh man... Dark fics are not good for me. Would I even consider this a Dark fic?

Also no part 2 cause nah. I suck with Dark Fics 

TAGS:

@joannaliceevans-fanficblog​ @princess-evans-addict​ @ifuseekamyevans​ @patzammit​ @chrisevans-imagines​ @clearwinnergardenalmond​ @bucksgoat​ @axen-gers​ @rororo06​ @elliee1497​ @cheeseburgersstuff​ @iguessweallcrazyithinktho​ @stop-obsessing-over-those-actors​ @anika-ann​ @queen-kass-the-writer​ @wxstedhexrt​

Want a tag? Just ask!

[donutloverxo]

Weekly Challenge Masterlist

Andy Barber

Week 3 (songs)

Love the way you lie @captain-a-rogerss

Selfish @queen-kass-the-writer

Chris Evans

Week 1 (moodboard)

Lessons in love @nbarnes

Week 2 (prompts)

Drunk encounter @cheeseburgersstuff

Lifetimes @chris-evans-indian-fanfic (also Steve Rogers x reader)

Give it time @captain-a-rogerss

Let me @allourown

Colin Shea

Week 2 (prompts)

Say so @nbarnes

Jake Jensen

Week 2 (prompts)

Full disclosure @stargazingfangirl18

James Mace

Week 2 (prompts)

Peaceful waves @navybrat817

Mike Weiss

Week 2 (prompts)

Promise to not promise @angrythingstarlight

Week 3 (songs)

Love and hate @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

Paul Diskant

Week 2 (prompts)

Only love @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho

Ransom Drysdale

Week 2 (prompts)

Dust @randomsevans

Nothing but trouble @queen-kass-the-writer

Hot boy summer @stop-obsessing-over-those-actors

Lips don't lie @queen-kass-the-writer

The bones @xoxabs88xox

Week 3 (songs)

Bring heaven to you @cheeseburgersstuff

You got me twisted @nbarnes

Some lie @violaskye

Week 5 (gifs)

A stab to the heart @randomsevans​

Steve Rogers

Week 1 (moodboard)

Rose @randomsevans

Untitled @iamwhoiamtmblr

Brooklyn @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho

A second chance? @chris-evans-indian-fanfic

An hour ago @lilbabycee

Blood roses @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho

Somebody to you @queen-kass-the-writer

Hungry @xolovegrace

Leap of faith @captain-a-rogerss

Broken @cheeseburgersstuff

Temper @captain-a-rogerss

Better late than never @stargazingfangirl18

Two is better than one @donutloverxo

A cruel tide @writerwrites

Week 2 (prompts)

Daddy's pissed @caplanbuckybarnes

Spanking and Steve Rogers @donutloverxo​ 

The mission @iamwhoiamtmblr​

Week 3 (songs)

It's been a long, long time @xolovegrace

Nighttime comforts @queen-kass-the-writer

A long, long time @randomsevans

Search @chris-evans-indian-fanfic

Lightening in a bottle @stop-obsessing-over-those-actors

At last @donutloverxo

Dream a little @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad

Week 4 (crossover)

Conversation @chris-evans-indian-fanfic

Dealers choice @angrythingstarlight​

Change of plans @xolovegrace​

Week 5 (gifs)

Riding @donutloverxo​