#dark!steve rogers/reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

evansbby · 28 days ago

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧'𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝟐

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dark!Steve Rogers x naive!Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: VERY DARK ELEMENTS, noncon, extremely rough smut, daddy kink, slight dd/lg undertones, captain kink, age gap (Steve is very into the age gap), MAJOR size kink, no seriously Steve is HUGE, physical violence, injuries, descriptions of injuries of a sexual nature, misogyny, heavy mentions of blood, possibly inaccurate medical information, mean Steve (seriously, he has no soul and is very mean, honestly unhinged), rough oral (m receiving), innocence kink, naive reader, 18+ ONLY, NO MINORS. MINORS DNI.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Steve plays the part of Captain America to perfection. But behind closed doors, he unleashes all his darkness on you.

𝐀/𝐍: This is a sequel to The Captain's Reward. Reminder to PLEASE read the warnings very very carefully. This is a VERY dark story. Dead dove don't eat. Please consider this a warning. If this isn't your cup of tea, just scroll. To everyone else, enjoy.

Steve doesn’t think there’s another girl in this entire universe who’s as beautiful as you. As sweet, innocent and pretty as you. And, he thinks as he licks as lips hungrily, there’s certainly no one else in this world as fragile and weak and helpless as you are at this very moment. All because of him.

He watches you attempt to hobble your way to the bathroom, his face concealed of any emotion. But he feels a pang of amusement when you grab his dresser to try and balance yourself. It’s cute, that look of determination on your face, the hope you undoubtedly have inside you that you could possibly reach the bathroom on your own two feet. Of course, you couldn’t. Steve had made sure of that.

An entire night of relentless fucking. And Steve hadn’t broken a single sweat. You, on the other hand, had screamed, cried, fought and passed out – and that had all been within the first hour. After that, you’d grown more docile. A broken look had settled behind your eyes as you’d been powerless against him whilst he’d defiled your body in almost every way imaginable. There had been moments where your fire had returned and you’d started fighting back again – and Steve had taken great pleasure in putting you back in your place each time you did that.

Now, you wail in frustration, falling back down on the king-sized bed with a cute thump. Steve almost smirks. He knows you’re in no condition to walk – not when your legs won’t stop shaking and you’re still bleeding. And sure, maybe he should’ve called the physician about twelve hours ago, but you were way too delectable to neglect for even a second. He wanted to savour your loveliness some more, ruin you a little more, break you down just a little more before the doctor examines you.

And then he’d do it all over again because he deserved to.

“Two agents will be here shortly to help you get ready.” Steve says finally.

Your head whips over in his direction, and he loves how your entire body jumps when he speaks to you. He knows he still holds that authority over you, that special importance that only a man of Steve’s calibre could possess. Despite the fact that he’s undoubtedly the villain in your eyes, which he doesn’t give a single fuck about. He knows deep down you still hold him in high regard – after all, he was an important, respected government figure. A hero. Your saviour. And you? You were just a dumb little girl.

“G-Get ready?” You squeak.

Steve feels his dick harden again – not that it had ever gone fully soft to begin with. He doubts he’ll ever not be hard in your presence ever again. Not when you were so deliciously sweet and broken and cute right in front of him.

“Your family has sent a bag of your belongings. The agents will help you get ready so the physician can see you.” Steve says, keeping his voice level and emotionless.

He can practically see your heart lurch up to your throat as you sit up even straighter.

“My family? They know I’m here? A-Are they coming to get me?”

This time, Steve allows himself to smirk freely, ever-amused by the tiny bit of hope in your voice.

“They know. And they happily provided my agents a bag of your belongings once they were informed that you were under my care, and will be for the foreseeable future.” His tone is smooth and calculated, knowing this information will hurt you. Of course, being Captain America had its perks – including the undying love and adoration that regular civilians like your parents had for him. They’d been happy that Steve had plucked you up and wanted to keep you. As they should be, because they knew what was best for you.

Your face crumples like a piece of paper, and the now familiar sight of your sweet tears as they glisten down your cheeks gets Steve even harder. Fuck, all he really wants to do is grab you, push you back down on his bed and fuck the living daylights out of you again. You were such a goddamned baby, crying your eyes out like a little fucking girl because your mommy and daddy didn’t give enough of a fuck about you to save you from the big bad wolf.

Well, you were young after all. At some point during the previous night, in between the animalistic fucking and the touching, he’d had you beneath him. Kissing the life out of you because he couldn’t get enough of your salty sweet lips, and the taste of your pure submission. “How old are you?” He’d asked.

You’d told him, in that sexy breathless whisper of yours, the one that let him know that you were half scared, and half overwhelmed with the pleasure he was drawing out of your body. Between pretty gasps and some more kisses, his tongue probing your mouth whilst he’d lazily fingered you (a short reprieve for you both before he’d inevitably fuck you again, over and over again all night). You’d told him you had one year left of college, how you were so close to graduating.

And that was exactly why you were so perfect for Steve – someone young and pretty and innocent like a little flower, someone he could defile over and over again. Someone with which he could let his inner darkness take over, and then watch while you cried your little baby tears as he put you through everything he deserved to put you through.

“Th-They don’t care?” You sputter now, hiccupping and crying like it’s the end of the goddamned world that your parents hadn’t given more of a fuck about you, and Steve relishes every second of it.

“They know what’s best for you.” He rises to his feet and fixes his tie. He’d woken up and gotten ready hours before you, as he’d had a press conference to attend. Of course, the first thing he’d done in the morning was fuck your sleeping body, nestling his fat dick between your peachy-warm ass and taking your tight, broken little pussy one last time before he had to go. You’d woken up with a start, crying and trying to fight him off with renewed vigour, but he’d had you settled down on his dick soon enough. Clearly, since he’d gotten you off three times before he’d unloaded inside you, revelling in the sound of your sobs.

He'd gone on to stand on a podium at the press conference and give a speech about HYDRA’s attack at your university yesterday. How, thanks to him and the Avengers, there had been no casualties. Not a single life lost. He’d received a hero’s welcome from the general public, with reporters scrambling to ask him question after question on how brave he’d been, how countless students now owed their lives to him. As he always did, he’d painted a gracious smile on his face – the perfect poster boy of bravery and humility. And then he’d come home to precious, little you. Stirring on his king-sized bed after a night of ruthless fucking.

Now, he had a meeting to attend, which meant he didn’t need you or your body for the next few hours. Therefore, the doctor could check up on you.

But, before Steve leaves, a thought enters his mind. In two long strides, he crosses the room. You gape as he nears you, cringe away from him when his thumb and forefinger grab your chin roughly, making you look up at him. And fuck, you look so innocent and sweet, so afraid of him. It makes him want to ditch his meeting and get back into bed with you. Show you and teach you everything about sex that your innocent mind undoubtedly didn’t know. Hell, he’d popped your cherry last night but he’d been so preoccupied with your cute little pussy that he’s still yet to use your mouth or your other hole.

But he needs to set something straight first.

“You are my property.” He says it plainly, matter-of-factly. Long ago, Steve had mastered the art of keeping his face neutral, and he knows you’re intimidated by him. He can see you, feel you, shaking under his grip. “That means you do not speak to any other man without my permission, or without me there with you.”

You suck in your breath, but you don’t say anything. Not that you could even if you wanted to, since he’s holding your jaw so tightly. One little jerk of his wrist and it would all be over for you. Sweet little girl. Life over before it even began. Of course, Steve has no intention of killing you, but he wants you to believe that he could, and he knows that you, sweet naïve little you, will believe it.

“No talking unnecessarily with the doctor or any other men you may encounter whilst I’m gone today.” Steve continues. Of course, he has a lot of other rules for you too but he’d let you know them in due course. “As my personal property, I expect you to obey what I am telling you right now. If the doctor has any questions for you, you are allowed to answer him but nothing more than that. Just know that I have eyes and ears everywhere, and I’ll know if you disobey me in any shape or form.”

He lets go of you roughly, pushing you down till you’re lying on your side. He takes one last look at you, a long, lingering look filled with lust and want. You look scared out of your mind, and he wouldn’t have you any other way. He exhales slowly, before beginning to make his way out of the room once more.

“I’ll tell him you raped me.”

Your voice carries across his bedroom like a whisper, and Steve probably wouldn’t have even heard it had it not been for his enhanced hearing. His jaw tightens, a wave of irritation rumbling inside him at your choice of word. Expressionless, he turns back around. You’ve pulled yourself up into a sitting position, and you look so tiny on his huge bed. So tiny and scared and shaking – like a little baby who has no idea who she’s up against. He meets your sad, accusatory eyes, his dick hardening even more when he sees the fire’s back within them. But all he does is look at you, daring you to say more.

You swallow, as if trying to harness all the strength you possibly can from within you. “I-I’ll tell him you kidnapped me and raped me. And he’ll see for himself once he looks at me, anyone would!” Your voice breaks as you glance down at yourself, at your bruised and bloodied body. You sniffle, “You’re a rapist and everyone’s gonna know!”

This time, Steve takes his time, leisurely making his way back in your direction. And it’s comical, how quickly your bravado dissipates. You cringe back again, crawling to the edge of the bed in a bid to get away from him. But where would you go? You could hardly take a single step without falling over your shaking legs. It makes Steve’s lip curl in amusement, watching how you start to scramble, terror evident in your eyes. Along with the immediate regret for what you’ve just said to him.

“I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Captain, please, I didn’t mean to, I didn’t–”

Your breathing sounds laboured once Steve finally reaches you, and you look like you’re about to pass out. Scared out of your mind like the stupid little girl you are. A rapist. Who the fuck did you think you were, calling Steve that? Comparing him to the vermin who prowled the streets and took advantage of women, the very same low-lives who Steve himself had personally put behind bars numerous times. He’d never be like them. No, this was different. He deserved this. He deserved you and your body. You were his. He could do whatever he wanted with your body, after everything he’d done to save you, to save the world.

You look up at him, swallowing harshly as if expecting the worst. But all Steve does is stroke your cheek softly. His fingers trail the smooth expanse of your face, your cheekbones, your temple, your forehead, your jaw. He strokes your face like you’re his little pet, and predictably, you start to relax. He can feel the goosebumps he’s leaving against your skin, and he knows the effect he has on you no matter how much you fight against him, or how much you accuse him of wronging you.

That’s when he draws his hand back and slaps you hard across the face.

The shock of the blow has you opening your mouth in a silent cry, but nothing comes out except for a pathetic squeak. You fall back down on his bed, clutching your face as tears of pain stream down your cheeks.

“Tell him.” Steve says softly, “Tell anyone you want. Let’s see what they do about it.”

***

Steve is hard throughout his meeting. All he can think about is you, his perfect little secret locked away in his room. None of the others could ever even dream of having a girl as lovely, soft and sweet as you.

Bucky’s girl was unruly and wild – he’d found her at a nightclub of all places, which meant her pussy was probably as used as the toilets in the dinky joint he’d met her at. And no matter how happy Bucky seemed now, Steve knew it was all a farce. That unkempt slut would never truly be the right fit for Bucky, and Steve knows his best friend deserves better. Steve would never settle like that; he would never be like him.

Tony’s wife – Pepper – was a vapid fool whom her husband had just made VP of Stark Industries. A woman in such a high-ranking position meant clearly for a man? Steve still feels revulsion when he thinks about it. No wonder Tony was a raging alcoholic – allowing his wife to wear the pants in their relationship had clearly chipped away at the old man’s sanity. Steve would never be like him.

Then there was Bruce. He had Natasha but he didn’t know how to control someone like her. He was too busy locked up in his laboratory, doing countless experiments per day. Tinkering with machines and chemicals and whatnot. All while Natasha ran roughshod all over town. Steve had heard stories of the redhead’s promiscuity. Bruce was a fool not to keep her in check. Steve would never be like him.

Thor still pined over Jane, the woman he’d claimed was the love of his life. But she’d gone and died on him. Steve doesn’t believe in love, but Thor’s situation reminds him of Peggy. What a fool he’d been back in the day, allowing himself to fall for someone as rotten as Peggy. She’d played him, danced circles around him and laughed while he’d scrambled after her. Made sacrifice after sacrifice for her. Then he’d woken up one day and realised she, like most women, was an airheaded whore. Steve didn’t think about Peggy at all anymore. In fact, he was happy she was dead now. And unlike Thor, Steve never pined over his past. He’d never be like that.

Clint and Sam, thankfully, had their heads screwed on the right way. Both of them had nice little housewives tucked away in their homes. A baby on their hip, an apron over their dress. Barefoot and pregnant, hidden away from anyone else. Steve could respect that. Sure, Sam partied a lot and stepped out on his wife more often than not. But he was a man and men had needs, and Steve could understand that.

Although neither Clint’s wife nor Sam’s wife were half as beautiful or innocent as you. No, Steve had won in the end, picked the best of the litter, the cream of the crop. And soon, you’d be his little wife, too. Tucked away in one of his suburban properties, hidden from the public eye. And, of course, he’d knock you up too. If he hasn’t already, that is.

That’s all Steve can think about throughout the whole meeting. Not that it’s anything important, anyways. Tony is droning on about something or the other – Steve doubts anyone is listening. Tony was a fucking fool, and everyone knew the true leader of the Avengers was Steve. He was the one everyone listened to, the one everyone reported to and responded to. Steve knows he holds all the power in the world. Presidents, kings, world leaders, they all practically bowed down to him. Tony was nothing but a shrivelled up, coked up, alcoholic that Steve chose to keep around out of pity.

He makes a few pleasantries once the meeting is over. Bucky invites him over for lunch with him and his girl, but Steve declines. He knows Bucky just wants his best friend and his girlfriend to get along, but Steve doesn’t view women as equals to get along with. That’s why, if he had his way, Natasha wouldn’t be a part of the Avengers at all. Anyways, he knows Bucky’s girl is temporary – nobody kept whores around for too long. Sure, Bucky was infatuated right now, but soon his best friend would want to settle down – and it wouldn’t be with a slut like his current girlfriend was. No, Bucky needed a nice, quiet, bookish, innocent, young girl. Like how Steve had you.

And with that thought, he quickly makes his way back to his apartment, back to you. The physician is leaving as soon as Steve arrives, ready with a full report.

“She’s hurt bad, Captain.” The doctor says, his face not revealing a single emotion, which Steve prefers. It’s not the first time Steve has sent a girl to be checked up by him, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. “Her pelvic region is in a very vulnerable state. Sprained in many areas, and she’s lucky she didn’t break anything down there.”

Steve feels nothing. He knew you were injured, that much was expected. How could you not be? What with how small you were and how big he was? There was bound to be some type of damage. No surprise there.

The doctor continues: “She needs time to heal, Captain. Apart from her sprains, she is also suffering from some tearing and bleeding. It will heal, but only with time. I have prescribed her medicine for the pain, but in order for her to heal properly and fully, she cannot be subjected to any vaginal sex or penetration of any kind for at least two weeks.”

Steve’s mood sours immediately. Not being able to enter your heavenly little snatch for two weeks sounded completely absurd to him. Now that he’d had your tight little pussy for one night, he expected free access to it whenever he wanted. But to be barred from what he surely owned? It was insane torture. Half of him wants to throttle the doctor right then and there.

But all he does is nod, and waits till the doctor shows himself out.

Quietly, Steve makes his way through his apartment, heading straight for his bedroom. He tries to formulate a plan of action in his head. How was he to navigate these next two weeks? Of course, he’d still keep you in his room, even if he couldn’t use you sexually. You were his property after all, and two weeks wasn’t forever. It was a long time to not fuck, however, and Steve makes a mental note to inform his agents to have a few girls sent up to one of his other apartments for the time being. They wouldn’t compare to you, but they’d have to do.

He opens the door to his bedroom and immediately pauses. There you are, sat in the middle of his bed. You’ve changed into a pair of pyjamas; a silk button up top and matching shorts with little hearts printed on them. Steve doesn’t think he’s seen anything more girlish and cute – they must have been sent along with your other stuff from back home.

Sure enough, you have a pink backpack open in front of you, and you’re sifting through it like it’s a treasure chest and not some cheap piece of luggage that looks like it’s been through several rounds of tug-of-war. Pulling out clothes and holding them close, as if he’s fucking smuggled you out of the country or something, and you’ve finally gotten a care package from home.

But then you shriek in delight, grabbing what looks to be a stuffed animal from inside your bag and hugging it close.

“Chester, you’re here!” You squeal happily – the happiest Steve has ever seen you in the short time that he’s known you. And fuck, the blood rushes straight down to his dick as he watches you hug the teddy bear close to your chest, nuzzling its fur against your nose. And you’re so preoccupied by the dumb toy that you still haven’t noticed that you’re not alone in the bedroom. “I missed you so much! I’m so glad Mom and Dad sent you!”

It’s the rawest, fucking sweetest sight of innocence Steve has ever fucking seen. You, all soft and tiny on his huge bed, in your silky pyjamas, all freshly showered and looking like a goddamned angel. As if that wasn’t enough to get Steve all riled up, that sheer juxtaposition between your softness and naivete compared to Steve’s own roughness. But you had to get your goddamned childish toy out, hugging it like it was your lifeline, looking like the sweetest, most corruptible baby girl he’s seen in his entire goddamned life. Fuck, it’s like you were begging for it.

With a guttural growl, Steve lunges for you. He feels something animalistic take over his entire body. And he’s always prided himself in being disciplined, trained his body and mind to show restraint, self-control. But all that goes out the fucking window when he sees you sitting so pretty on his bed with your goddamned teddy bear. The sight goes straight to his fucking dick and now he feels like a fucking animal.

You realise a second too late that you’re not alone, and you scream bloody murder as Steve grabs you. But even if you’d had a head start, you wouldn’t have been able to escape him. Even if your body was a hundred percent healthy, even if you were in an open field or somewhere public instead of the closed quarters of Steve’s bedroom. Even then, you wouldn’t have stood a single chance. Steve feels lust like how he’s never felt it before. Lust like fire, catching all over his body, searing his fucking soul.

For a moment, he feels incensed to the point of madness. How dare you be so fucking perfect? Like a fucking doll laid out to tempt him. Looking all heavenly and sweet, youthful wonder in your eyes that had been scared away the moment you’d noticed him there.

He grabs your calf, savagely dragging you to the edge of the bed. And you look so fucking terrified, shaking like a goddamned leaf just like how you were last night when he’d first ravaged you. And it feels like the first time again, in some ways. Except now that he knows exactly how your tight cunt feels around his big dick, he’s even more incensed to have you as you continually fight against him.

“The doctor said no!” You cry out desperately, kicking at him in a bid to get away except you’re so fucking weak, it’s like fighting with a goddamned ant for all the good it’s doing. “C-Captain, please don’t! Please don’t, the doctor said no!”

“Shut the fuck up,” Steve seethes through clenched teeth. He straddles you quickly, a knee on either side of your waist, his palm plastering over your mouth to silence you. “I know what he fucking said.”

And yet all he can think about is how you smell like strawberries and fucking cream. The female agents must’ve bathed you – your face and body all look scrubbed clean and glowing. No longer looking like how he’d left you this morning – covered in your own virginal blood. Part of him is completely enamoured by your sweet-smelling innocence, but the larger, darker part of him wants to corrupt you once more, leave you bruised and bloodied once more just how he had last night. He always wants you like that, because you’re his and he can do it.

He knows he shouldn’t, he knows it’s a danger to your health and wellbeing. But goddamit, Steve deserves this! He deserves your body whenever the fuck he wants it. He’d fucking saved you from HYDRA, saved your entire university and you were his forever reward. Fuck the doctor’s orders, you were his. He’d do with you exactly what he wanted, when he wanted to do it.

You wail as he rips your silky pyjama shorts in half. And it only takes Steve half a second until he’s forcing himself deep inside your tight cunt once more. And it feels like fucking heaven, entering back into what was now and always would be his property. Your tight, pulsating softness strangles his fat cock like a goddamned vice, choking it. And it’s like the past twenty-four hours of him ravaging you hasn’t made a single difference because you’re just as virgin-tight as you were last night.

“STOP, PLEASE! IT HURTS!”

You instantly start crying and screaming, flailing underneath him just like you had last night. And you bring that goddamned stuffed animal up to your nose, cuddling it and nuzzling it as you cry into its fur. All that does is incense Steve further – you’re such a fucking baby – and he lets out a low growl.

“Call me daddy,” he commands you, holding you down with one hand whilst his other grabs for the lube once more. He’s inside you, but he wants to go in deep, go in all the way like how he had last night. And you’re not wet, so the lube is a necessity. He pulls out and squirts it all over his dick, jacking off as he looks down at you. All crying and pathetic with your teddy bear and your silky pyjama top with the hearts on it. “Say it. Right fucking now.”

“Daddy,” you cry, sounding like a dejected fucking baby, “Daddy, please! Please no more! Th-The doctor said no more!”

“I don’t care,” he breathes, drinking in how hot you look when you cry. How hot you look with your legs splayed open, lying underneath him like you’re nothing more than a worthless little doll. A part of him is so turned on by the fact that he went against the doctor’s orders, the fact that the animal inside him just couldn’t wait to get inside you again. “You’re mine. I can use your body whenever the fuck I want.”

“B-But it hurts!”

You’re a pouty little mess, hugging your teddy bear close like it’s your only form of comfort. Which it is, because Steve wasn’t about to comfort you ever. Not now or any time in the future. But he’s just so fucking enamoured by how sexy you look – like an innocent angel sent down from heaven just to seduce him. Physically, you’re everything he wants, craves, dreams about. Like a pretty little doll, so innocent and cute yet beautiful like a fucking vixen. Like it’s written in your stars to be owned by him, to be ruined by him, over and over and over again till he consumes you entirely.

Once upon a time, Steve thought it was written in his stars that Peggy was the love of his life. Well, he didn’t believe in love anymore, but the sight of you beneath him right now, teary eyes glistening as you look up at him with an almost revered expression… The power trip it gives him almost knocks the wind out of him. It wasn’t love, it could never be love… But it’s a strong feeling that practically consumes him in this moment.

Overcome with something he can’t quite explain, Steve kisses you hard. Driven by possession or perhaps something else, but he presses his lips against yours like he’s fucking parched and you’re the only one who could ever quench his thirst.

You cry as you kiss him back, and he wonders if it’s muscle memory or if you’re only responding because you’re scared. Either way, it excites him. And he’s too busy making out with you that for a second, he forgets to press his cock back inside you after coating it with the lube. But then he does, and fuck, you’re wet now. Wet from just a little kissing. Fuck, you were so perfect for him. He couldn’t wait to marry you.

“Call me daddy again,” he says against your lips as he pushes his cock deeper inside you. With your wetness and the aid of the lube, he fits into your pussy like a snug fucking glove. He holds your hip with one hand in a bid to keep you in place, and his other hand finds its way up to your face. He cups your cheek, “Tell daddy how good it feels to get fucked like this.”

You shake your head desperately, “I hate you! I hate you so fucking much!”

Steve frowns, a new darkness spreading across his chest like a spilled vial of poison. His hand hardens, gripping your face harshly as he bucks his hips, pistoning his dick inside you with renewed force. You squeal in pain, your tiny fists hitting against his chest and grabbing the lapels of his suit which he hadn’t even bothered to take off.

“I don’t fucking care if you hate me,” he hisses, his face inches from yours. “Your feelings don’t matter, and they never will. But you better fucking listen to me and do what I say, or else I could make this a lot more painful for you.”

The threat has your eyes round as saucers, and your lips pursed, wet from his saliva and your own mixed with your salty tears. Then he feels the tenseness leave your body, sees your limbs stop thrashing as you finally go limp in his arms. As if you’ve given up and accepted your fate.

“Good girl.” He smirks, granting you one single praise because you didn’t need more than that, lest it built up your confidence. “Now, tell me exactly how daddy’s cock feels right now.”

You scrunch your eyes shut, either from embarrassment at his dirty talk or just from the sheer hate you’re feeling for him. Again, Steve doesn’t give a fuck. He gives you one extremely hard thrust that jolts your eyes back open, as if warning you he’d go even harder if you didn’t comply.

“B-Big,” you breathe out softly, shyly, “It feels big, Captain. I mean daddy.”

“Yeah? You ever thought you’d get fucked by a cock as big as this?” Steve asks, pulling out and admiring how his huge length is covered in your juices. And your blood, because of course, despite not going as hard as he had last night, he’s made you bleed once more. God, you were such a goddamned baby.

You shake your head, only earning a slap to your face and a menacing look that has you crying out: “No!”

“No, what?” He knows he has a sick gleam in his eyes, because he wants to hear you say it. “

“No, I never thought I’d get fucked by a cock as big as yours!” You cry out, your sentence ending in a piercing scream as he slams into you once more. The teddy – fucking Chester – slips out of your grip because of the force of which you’re being fucked. But Steve won’t have that, he shoves it back into your arms, wanting to watch you hold it and cuddle against it. Use your little toy as the only source of solace while your daddy ravaged you.

“That’s right,” Steve says lowly, drinking in the sight of you crying into Chester’s fur, “Cuddle your fucking toy like the little baby you are. Getting fucked by a man more than twice your age,” he licks his lips when your pussy clenches around his cock at his words, “And you like it, don’t you baby girl? You like how much older I am than you.”

“No, I don’t!” And yet you moan desperately, rutting against him now, clutching at your teddy bear yet at the same time thrusting your hips upwards to meet his animalistic thrusts.

Steve smirks, “Your cunt likes it.”

He ruts into you with wild abandon. And the whole time, he’s wondering how you’ve just walked into his life and awoken a wild beast inside him, this innate animalistic need to fuck your little body over and over again like he was put on this Earth to do so. With others, he’s always showed restraint. But you? Restraint went out the window with you.

And you squeak so fucking cutely when you cum. And Steve knows you’re in pain, what with all your bruises and injuries, and yet your hips meet upwards with his thrusts, riding out your orgasm as your hands clutch at his suit which he has yet to take off. Like you can’t help but accept the pleasure he gives you, because it feels so fucking good and he knows you’ve never felt pleasure like this before. Not before him.

“Feels good, huh?” He hears himself say, “Thank me for making you feel good.”

“Nngh, thank you, daddy!” Now, you don’t even hesitate, don’t even fight back. Your head’s thrown back and you’ve got that dazed look in your eye, forever lost in the throes of pleasure as he mauls your body to his liking.

Tamed once again.

He makes you orgasm twice more before he unloads inside you, holding your hips upwards with your legs bent back against your chest to make sure it sticks. He wants you pregnant by at least the end of the month. Hell, between last night and now, there was no way you weren’t pregnant already. And you look so fucking dazed, your fists grabbing his suit jacket so tightly, your face contorting in pleasure as you cum over and over again, and your little pussy eagerly swallows up his cum.

It's only once he’s stood back up, once he’s buckling his belt again that you seem to come out of whatever sex-crazed stupor he’d reduced you to. That’s when you start crying once more, your lips curling in anger and that fire returning to your eyes as you look up at him in absolute contempt. But he revels at the sight of you; Chester still clutched to your chest, your hair dishevelled, your eyes red, your legs shaking, his cum dripping from between your thighs. And the fresh white sheets once more stained with dark, scarlet blood.

***

“Wow, Steve. I’m really happy you found someone. I can’t wait to meet her.” Bucky says earnestly.

It’s been two days since the last time Steve fucked you directly after the doctor had advised him not to. Knowing he has no restraint when it comes to you, he’s deliberately kept well away for the time being. He’d temporarily moved to one of his other apartments, quietly making arrangements for the future whilst also making sure his agents kept you well fed and taken care of in his room. He’d left you in such a bloodied state, he supposed you deserved the brief retrieve. But in the coming few days, he planned to move you to his house in the suburbs. But he had to go public with you before he did that.

Steve nods smoothly, “Yes. She’s extremely shy, which is why I kept our relationship a secret for so long. We’ve been together six months, but I’m certain I want to marry her.”

Lying always came easily to Steve. Just another mask to slip on, just like how he did every single day when he donned his suit and a smile on his face. His words painting a rich tapestry of lies while the darkness behind his eyes remained at bay and nobody was any wiser.

“Well, that’s great. I can’t wait to meet her!” Bucky slaps Steve on the back, a wide grin on his face.

“Yes, Steve. I’d love to meet her too. It would be nice to have another girl around here.” Bucky’s girl – Kira or Kiara or something like that – pipes up.

Steve nods at her, feeling a wave of irritation build up inside him. Couldn’t she see that the men were talking? Stupid, insubordinate little bitch. Clearly, Bucky didn’t plan to keep her around for long as he hadn’t even bothered to teach her basic manners. In Steve’s ideal world, women were to remain silent unless spoken to, especially in public. Under the arms or on the laps of their husbands like pretty ornaments, made to be admired, not heard. Clearly, Kira, like most females of the twenty-first century – had no idea what it meant to be an ideal woman. Unlike you.

“Yes. Buck, as I said, she’s very shy and suffers from strong bouts of social anxiety. But I’ve been working on it with her, and I think she’ll be ready to meet the team soon, at the very least. I’d like to propose to her soon.”

Kira claps her hands together excitedly, “Oh, how exciting!”

Steve does his best to ignore her and keep his face impassive.

“I’m really happy for you, man,” Bucky says, “Me and Kira would love to meet her. When do you plan on proposing?”

“Soon,” Steve says vaguely, plans of a big, public proposal clouding his thoughts. Little did Bucky know; Steve had already privately proposed to you. He’d done it the very same night he’d met you, between your wanton moans and his heavy thrusts, when he’d demanded that you marry him, and you, in your soft breathy voice, had agreed to do just that. Not that he even needed your agreement, it’s not like you had a say in the matter either way. And a public proposal would be just for show, so every single person on his team and in his country would know that you were Steve Rogers’ property. Yes, his plans would come together soon. Very, very soon.

***

“I-I want to see my parents!” You demand shakily the moment Steve enters his bedroom. He licks his lips at the sight of you, sat on his desk wearing what looked to be a pair of embroidered jeans and a cute pink top. More clothes that your parents had packed for you. And you look just as sweet as he remembers from two days ago, and he feels his cock twitch to life in an instant. But he knows he can’t fuck you now, if he did then he’d risk even more damage to your body. Permanent damage.

“Greet me properly.” Steve says, keeping his voice level and impassive. “It’s about time we went over certain rules that you need to follow now that you are mine.”

“I need to see my parents!” You repeat, “You’ve kept me locked up here for days, and I know they’d be worried about me.” Clearly, spending two days away from him has given you some sort of amnesia with the way you’re acting so brave all of a sudden. Well, Steve has no problem reminding you what exactly he was capable of.

He crosses the room quickly, smirking at how you shrink back in fear. That was more like it. Grabbing you by the neck, he easily lifts you up off his desk chair and throws you not-so-gently onto his bed.

“Captain, please!” Your face crumples in desperation, “I’ve been here almost three days now, and I just don’t understand why you won’t just let me go! You’ve used me countless times, but why can’t you just be done with me now? Why do you have to keep on torturing me like this!?”

Steve wants to roll his eyes. Women.

“Did you not hear me? I asked you to greet me properly,” Steve says softly, completely ignoring your impassioned plea. He grabs you by the chin. Hard. “Rule number one, as stated before, is that I own you. This means you must greet me any time I enter this room, or any other. You stand up,” he yanks you to your feet, and you yelp in pain, “and you approach me with your gaze lowered in respect,” he pushes your head down like you’re a dog, till your eyes are looking straight down at his shoes, “and you greet me whilst properly addressing me. Now do it.”

You don’t do anything, and the insubordination bristles Steve. He’d have you tamed soon enough. Quickly, he grabs your chin again, squeezing it hard till it hurts and you cry out in pain. “You and I both know the pain I am capable of inflicting upon you, sweetheart. Don’t make me do it now.”

“H-Hello, Captain,” you speak through angry tears, teeth gritted and eyes downcast, “Good morning – uh – sir.”

He would have preferred you to call him daddy now, but that would come with due course. He wanted you to call him that outside of sex but he knew it would take time for you to not be mortified enough to do that.

“Good girl,” he praises, before pushing you back on the bed. Throwing your tiny body around was very easy, and he liked exerting that power over you. “You will see your parents soon enough, but we need to go over some things first.”

You open your mouth to speak but Steve quickly raises his hand as if to silence you, also giving you a look menacing enough to make you shrink back again.

“Next week, we will make our first public appearance together.”

Your jaw drops open “But–”

“There will be a party in our honour, and I will introduce you to my colleagues and the general public. You will be on your best behaviour as there will also be press there.”

You start shaking your head, a dazed look on your face as if you can’t quite believe the words coming out of his mouth. Steve doesn’t give a fuck, and continues to speak as if your reactions don’t even matter. Which they do not.

“It will also be where I propose to you in front of everyone, and you will graciously and quietly accept, or else.”

“WHAT!?” You blurt out loudly, a horrified look spreading across your features, “P-Propose? What do you mean? C-Captain, no. No, no, no, that can’t be right. You can’t propose, there must be some kind of mistake–”

Steve’s jaw twitches, but expressionlessly he waits for you to stop stuttering like a goddamned fool. Your eyes look wide as saucers, shocked beyond belief as if you couldn’t wrap your head around the very idea of being married to him. Well, it hardly mattered as you were a woman and women had no say in matters such as these.

“You will be on my arm and under my supervision for the entirety of the event. Your behaviour will reflect my values, which means you will be polite and demure. Only speak when spoken to, and remain silent when it comes to worldly or political matters that do not concern you or women in general.”

“I’m not going to– Captain, this is a mistake–”

“Your parents will be present at the event. You will not talk negatively about me to them or anyone else, nor talk in detail about the circumstances under which we met. I will do all the talking, and you will nod and agree to whatever I say.”

Fire blazes in your eyes, your incredulity forgotten for a second. “You can’t stop me from telling my parents what you did to me!”

Quietly, Steve nods. He sits down next to you on the bed, making you jump in fear. You try to shuffle away from him but almost too easily, he picks you up and places you in his lap. Your back to his front, just how he had held you the night he’d first had you. It makes his cock harden immediately, but he knows he can’t fuck you. Not for another week and a half. Instead, he places his hand in front of you, almost in your lap, where it looks so goddamned big compared to your own tiny hands.

“Do you see my hands?” He prods you when you don’t reply, “Answer me.”

“Y-Yes.”

He watches you grudgingly look at his hands, take in all the roughness, all the callouses. His bruised knuckles, the burns and scars that would heal and fade away over the next few days. Hands that had seen everything, hands that were capable of acts that your tiny, girlish mind could hardly comprehend. Horror for you was submitting your homework late. The horrors his hands had seen and committed would make the hairs on the back of your neck rise in trepidation. You were lovely and sweet, and had no idea the evils and gore he had witness and contributed to. All to keep the world safe. To keep you, his beautiful little bride to be, safe.

“The night I met you, these hands choked three grown men to death.” Steve says tonelessly.

Your tiny gasp makes his dick harden even more, and you jump in his lap, his statement catching you so off-guard.

“I wrapped my hands around their throats, and I watched the life drain out of their eyes,” He continues, revelling in how you’ve begun to shake in his arms. “And it meant nothing to me. They were evil. Vermin. Disposable. I could have killed ten more of them and it wouldn’t have mattered. Killing them meant nothing to me. Ending a life no longer damages my psyche.”

Slowly, almost tenderly, Steve cups your face. He angles it sideways till you’re facing him, and he can see the beginnings of your delicious tears well up in your eyes. Your beautiful, wet eyes that glisten in total horror. You’re frozen, paralysed in fear. Breathing erratically in his lap while he holds you, holds you like you’re a little doll. He presses a soft kiss to your temple, taking his time in inhaling your sweet, beautiful scent. Another kiss, this time your hairline, and he can feel you shuddering underneath him.

He moves down to your cheek, kissing you there too. And the same with your other cheek, and he hears you whimper softly, your body on high alert, as if you don’t trust his gentle demeanour. Finally, Steve presses a soft kiss to your lips, sucking gently as if to savour your taste. He kisses the corner of your mouth, down your jaw; he peppers kisses up your neck before returning to your lips. Now, you’re quivering on top of him, unsure and nervous and scared. That’s when he opens his mouth and utters his next words.

“Would you like me to kill your parents, sweetheart?”

A broken noise falls from your mouth at his nonchalant question. A mix between a whimper and a cry, and you gape at him in total fear.

“You could tell them the truth about everything, just like I know you’re thinking of doing,” He casually tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear, “You could cause a scene at our engagement party, too. Cry for help and run your mouth to whomever you think will listen. And then when all’s said and done, you’d find that no one would believe you. And you’d turn to your parents for comfort, thinking surely, if anyone would take your word, it would be them, right?”

You say nothing, and Steve pinches your side cruelly, making you cry out and nod your head out of pure fear.

Steve smirks, “Sweetheart, I’d have your parents out of the room before you’d even know what’s happening. I could make them disappear in a heartbeat, and no one would know any better.” He starts kissing your neck again, marvelling at how soft and sweet-smelling you are. “I could choke them out with my bare hands just like I did those HYDRA bastards. And in their last moments, as they try to hang on to their pathetic lives and take their dying breaths, I’d tell them it was all because of you. Their own daughter’s insubordination would be the reason for their demise. And when that’s all said and done, you’d still be mine. Dead parents and a guilty conscious, but my property all the same.”

He finishes his speech with a final kiss to your lips, before turning you around fully to face him.

“So tell me, sweet girl. Are you going to be on your best behaviour at our party?”

He wishes he could capture that delicious horror in your eyes, and keep it in a jar as proof of your innocence and subordination to him. You take a few gulping, shuddering breaths, as if trying to calm your own self down, as if trying your hardest not to cry. Finally, with your wet eyes downcast, you nod, and in a breathy whisper you answer him:

“Yes. I’ll be on my best behaviour.”

***

“Bruce, I’m glad you were able to tear yourself away from your lab long enough to attend my party,” Steve says good-naturedly, a mask of friendliness on his face as he elbows the scientist jokingly.

“Of course, Steve. This is a great event.” Bruce looks forever like his dishevelled and distracted self, as if he’d just blindly stumbled out of his laboratory and put on a sports jacket before arriving here. “Nat and I couldn’t wait to meet this secret girlfriend of yours.”

He’s got Natasha on his arm and all Steve can think about is how pathetic Bruce is for allowing his girlfriend to attend a public event dressed in such an indecently cut gown. Steve himself would never allow you to wear anything indecent where other men would be able to lay their eyes on you. Of course, in the privacy of his room, he’d have you wearing all types of scantily-clad, vintage lingerie. But in public? You were Captain America’s soon-to-be wife, the picture of modest femininity and demure innocence. Which was why tonight he’d personally chosen your dress – a beautiful baby blue gown with a respectable neckline.

Steve would never be like Bruce.

“You must be the lucky lady who finally managed to capture Steve Rogers’ heart,” Natasha shoots you a friendly smile.

Steve feels you stiffen next to him, and he knows you’re scared because someone has directly addressed you. Since the party started half an hour ago, he’s had you snugly tucked by his side, his arm around you and hand firmly pressing against the small of your back lest you try to slip away. Although he doubts you’re capable of that at all, since you look like you’re scared shitless. Undoubtedly, his threats from earlier are still looming over your head, as they should.

“She is,” Steve answers for you, making sure to keep his voice light and good-natured. “She’s had me head over heels for her since the moment we met in front of that local art exhibition late last year, right sweetheart?”

He pinches you lightly, nobody else would’ve even seen it. But you jump, swallowing hard as your stupid little mind tries to keep up with his smooth lies. “Y-Yes,” you answer shakily, “I was volunteering at the art exhibit and that’s how we met.”

A flimsily executed lie, but Steve supposes you haven’t had half as much practice as he’s had with being dishonest. Hell, his whole life revolved around dishonesty and facades, so much so that he’s perfected the art of putting on mask after mask. His agents had coached you on what to say so your story would match Steve’s, and they’d made sure all the details lined up before the false story was leaked to the press. Besides, Natasha was too much of an airhead and Bruce was too distracted to question your less than stellar lie.

“Well, welcome to the family,” Natasha leans in to give you a warm hug which you return after glancing up and receiving an approving nod of permission from Steve. And then the redhead looks up at him, “And Steve, I can’t believe you hid her from us for six whole months! You didn’t even tell me, and I thought I was more special than that!”

Steve resists the urge to roll his eyes. Natasha had always been under the impression that her and him were exponentially close. As if Steve would ever be close friends with a woman. Everything he did, he did for his image – and that included having the world think him and Nat were some sort of crime-fighting duo. When the reality couldn’t be further from the truth – if Steve had his way, a woman wouldn’t be part of the Avengers at all.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t want to jinx a good thing,” Steve answers good-naturedly, giving you a warm squeeze. He can feel your breath hitch, feel your eyes dart over to him warily before you look down at the floor again. He can sense that you’re nervous, scared of breaking the façade of picture-perfect happiness you’re supposed to be presenting, wary of the consequences if you were to break said facade. You’re also jittery and skittish, holding on to his arm with your tiny hands like the naïve little girl you are, a little girl forced into the spotlight of his world. On the arm of the most important person in the room. No, the most important person in the world.

“Nat, Bruce, if you’ll excuse us. We’ve got to make the rounds and greet everyone before this one gets too tired.” He says, and it’s not even a lie; as you’re still healing from all the injuries he’s inflicted on your body after that first night of fucking. In fact, it’s one of the reasons why your weak little body is clinging on to him so tightly – he’s sure your legs would give out if he wasn’t there to keep you up. And that thought, the fact that you’re relying solely on him, gets his dick hardening in his pants.

Steve leans over and softly kisses your temple, letting his lips linger for a second. His nose twitches, taking in your sweet scent. Two female agents had bathed you in rosewater and rubbed and lathered all sorts of sweet-smelling oils and creams on your skin, till you were glowing and smelling sweet like a flower. Then they’d slipped you into the dress he’d chosen, and applied light makeup to your face (as well as heavy makeup on your body to conceal any bruises) as per his instructions. And so when he’d seen you for the first time earlier tonight, standing there in the middle of his bedroom like a girl straight out of his wettest dreams, all he’d wanted was to shove you down on his dick and use you as a goddamned fleshlight, ruin you for daring to look like such a sweet little angel, for daring to seduce him like that, all while you stared up at him with fresh tears in your eyes and a naïve indignance in your face. Fuck, he’d been hard ever since.

He waits for you to croak out a goodbye to Natasha and Bruce before leading you away. And he hears them whispering to each other as the two of you leave:

“Gosh, isn’t he so gentle with her, Bruce? I’m so happy Steve finally found someone to settle down with!”

“Mmhm,” Bruce agrees, “I didn’t even know he was dating anyone. He always seems so busy, putting everyone else’s needs over his own. He deserves this.”

Everywhere Steve goes, he’s used to people worshipping him. Praising him, his bravery, his selflessness, his good looks. Tonight is no different, as he parades you around the banquet hall, introducing you to everyone in the circles he hangs around in. Not that he enjoys the company of any of these people – but they think he does. Just another part to play.

And he knows how jealous every man in this room is right now, how their hungry, pathetic gazes follow you around as you cling to him. Because you’re so lovely, so pure, so soft. Unhardened by the hardships of life, your face brimming with innocence and that delicious fear because of the control Steve has over you. And he knows that every other man wants you like how he has you, but they never would. He’d kill them if they tried.

He feels you stiffen, and he follows your gaze to the edge of the ballroom where the engagement party is being held. Right in the corner by the entrance, sticking out like two sore thumbs, intimidated and out of place, are your parents. Not that he’d even bothered to find out what your parents looked like from the background checks his agents had done on you in the past week, but he can tell it’s them now. And he smirks and makes a beeline straight for them, with you in tow beside him.

They’re immediately in awe of him, just like he knew they would be. Most people are in awe of Steve, and he’s used to the way they look up at him as if he’s some kind of God. Like he’s the epitome of what every other man strives to be, both physically and otherwise.

He shakes your father’s hand, gives your mother his warmest hug. Smiles and holds you close, apologises to them for keeping his “relationship” with you a secret all these months. Tells them how in love with you he is, how the two of you have so much in common, how he’s never felt like this about anyone else in his life. How he vows to take care of you and keep you safe for as long as he lives. How he’d love it if he could have their blessing as he asks for their daughter’s hand in marriage.

That last line has your parents practically falling apart. Your mother starts crying, thanking him for being so kind and generous. Telling him that she knows he’ll take good care of you. Your father is similarly affected, although he clears his throat and nods and claims the two of you make a beautiful couple, and of course you have his blessing. And it’s laughable almost, how the two of them don’t even spare you a glance. Because if they did, they’d see your face crumple in dismay, your body go stiff, your tiny little hands forming fists by your sides.

“M-Mom, please, we need to talk–”

Steve drags you away before you can croak out another word, and swiftly leads you to the centre of the banquet hall, a bone-crushing grip on your hand.

“Remember what I told you,” He warns, and he doesn’t have to say anything else. The memory of the threat he’d made earlier settles on your pretty face like a ghost, your delicate features etched in pure fear of him. And fuck, it gets him so hard how completely at his mercy you are in this moment. So tiny, fresh like a fucking flower, soft and feminine and perfectly afraid of him, clinging on to his arm while every other man looks at him in awe, and you in desire.

“I-I just wanna talk to my mother!” You squeak out softly, and it’s the first full sentence you’ve spoken to him all night. And of course, Steve could answer you. He could tell you that you’d have the opportunity to talk to her later (if you behaved). But he says nothing, because nothing you say is important, nor would it ever be.

One by one he goes over to each guest in the banquet hall, your little body firmly pressed to his side. And it turns him on so fucking much, how small you feel against him. Like a quivering little mouse. It reminds him of the fear he’d seen the night he’d first had you, and it thrills him how you’re still just as scared of him as you were then. In fact, even more so.

But he dons the mask he always does, the mask of the happy, humble Steve Rogers, as he makes his rounds, acts like the perfect host. Thanks every single person personally for coming, and for meeting his beautiful girlfriend.

“Bucky, I’d like you to meet my girlfriend.”

As Steve introduces you to his oldest and closest friend, he regards Bucky’s face carefully. He wants him to see how lovely, soft and feminine you are. See how Steve has chosen the perfect girl and Bucky should discard Kira and closely follow his example with someone who was more like you.

Instead, his enhanced hearing picks up the slight hitch in your throat and the sharp intake of your breath as Bucky shakes your hand. He notices how you swallow hard, almost like a gulp, and a different kind of nervousness takes over your being, your eyes glistening like stars as you look up at the Winter Soldier.

“H-Hi,” You utter softly, and it’s the first time all night where Steve hasn’t had to prompt you to speak.

“It’s great to finally meet you,” Bucky straightens after letting go of your hand, and Steve makes it a point to yank you up against his side, keeping his arm firmly around your waist. “Steve did an amazing job of keeping you a secret all this time, but he hasn’t been able to shut up about you now that we all know.”

You laugh shyly, and it’s the cutest little laugh Steve has ever heard. But it also incenses him, to hear you laugh at something another man has said. Even if that man is his best friend.

“She’s not used to big events like this,” Steve rubs your hip, eyeing Bucky carefully. “I think I’ll take her home soon.”

“Remember how much we hated these kinds of events back in the day, Steve?” Bucky elbows him before his gaze settles on you again. “Don’t worry, you get used to them. Well, Steve certainly did since he’s a pro with people now. Me on the other hand? I get shy too, so you’re not alone.”

Steve feels you perk up, feels your whole energy shit. Those stars in your eyes, he can practically see them. They make him want to crush Bucky’s head into the ground.

“R-Really?” You sound all breathy and cute, all innocent and hope-filled, your pathetic little heart no doubt thinking you’ve found an ally of some sort. It’s almost comical, and yet Steve does not feel like laughing.

“Of course. But it gets easier over time.” Bucky straightens his suit and looks around, “I wish my girlfriend was here - she’s been dying to meet you, but I have no idea where she ran off.”

You wilt like a flower in slow-motion, your cute little mouth down-turning and your gaze retreating to the floor. Steve’s heightened senses notice all of it, and it sears him from the inside out.

“Girlfriend?” You echo softly, pathetically shrinking into yourself.

“Yes, my girlfriend Kira – you’d love her! Steve, have you seen her around?”

“No, but we better get moving. Lots of people to meet,” Steve tugs you along, watching as your eyes trail back to Bucky, a roaring fire in his heart igniting like something he’s never quite felt before. He pushes it back down quickly, extinguishing it before it affects his mask. But not before digging his fingers into your hip hard enough for you to whimper.

He guides you over to the remaining groups of people he has yet to greet. But you’re a million miles away, despite the fact that he’s physically holding you up and prompting you to speak every now and again. More than once, he catches you looking across the ballroom with a pathetic, yearning look in your eye. He follows your gaze to find it fixated on Bucky, who’s now embracing Kira in the corner of the crowd.

“Eyes on the ground or on me,” Steve mutters lowly. Of course, up until a few moments ago, he was not the least bit bothered by where or who you looked at. But those stars in your eyes when Bucky had spoken to you, and that twinkling laughter that Steve had never heard before now? His fists curl at his sides, and he wonders if he hasn’t made it clear enough who exactly you belonged to. Perhaps the brief retrieve you’d gotten when he’d been barred from fucking you these past few days had caused you to forget.

He finds he doesn’t have a problem with reminding you, even if it means going against the doctor’s orders again.

After a handful of more wooden hellos and fake pleasantries, he decides it’s time. Everything has been set up meticulously, and he leads you up to the centre of the small stage. He doesn’t even have to clear his throat to get everyone’s attention, he knows every single pair of eyes in this ballroom is plastered on him now, as he finally, officially makes you his property and brands you as his. He clears his throat.

“I know you’re not a huge fan of public declarations of love and whatnot. Quite frankly, neither am I and you know this. But I just… I always felt so out of place and,” he makes himself chuckle charmingly as he takes both your hands in his, “pardon the pun, like a man out of time. Until I met you.” He utters your name softly, slowly. Playing a part like he always does while you look up at him like a deer caught in headlights. You look uncomfortable, shy, nervous, caught-of-guard despite his agents drilling tonight’s plan into your dumb little head like how they’d been ordered to.

He squeezes your hands, hearing sighs and simpers all around him. But all he can focus on is you, looking so breathtakingly beautiful and innocent in the intimate candlelight of the ballroom. Like you’ve stepped straight out of his dreams and into his arms. Like his very own dream-girl that he’s hunted down and caught, and will now keep forever caged as his.

“You taught me that there’s more to life than just work, you taught me how to enjoy things without feeling guilty about it…” he pauses, and as if on cue he hears more sighs erupt from the crowd of guests. “You came into my life when I least expected it, and for so long, I wanted to keep you a secret from the world because I wanted to keep you safe and,” again, he makes himself laugh softly, “And I guess a part of me just wanted to keep you all to myself. But now, I want nothing more than for everyone to know just how much I love you…”

Steve would be bored by the whole thing if it weren’t for your innocuously animated facial expressions, your eyes shining with bewilderment, your luscious lips forming the shape of an o. He’s memorised speeches like this more times before than he can count. As an avenger, it’s something that’s become second nature to him – playing a character, smiling for crowds of people he couldn’t care less about, spewing out line after line that he no longer believed in. It was all in a day’s work for him.

But you… You look like you want to break into a run as you stare up at him, too scared to look away. And he’s so infatuated by that look of yours, that deliciously pure look of fear for him, he almost wants to take you into his arms there and then, shield you from everyone else because they don’t deserve to look at you. You’re like a pure little flower, delicate against the forces of nature, and despite his primal need to ruin you, there’s a part of him that wants nothing more than to protect you.

He gets down on one knee, earning many a gasp from the audience. Everyone’s waiting with baited breath, and that’s when he sees it. A lone tear meandering its way down your cheek, almost like a final plea for him to rethink his proposal. Your lips purse slightly, as if silently begging him not to go through with this. It almost makes him want to laugh. God, how great it would feel to snuff the hope right out of your eyes. Stupid little girl.

“Baby, will you marry me?”

He’s got the box open between his thumb and forefinger, the ring sparkling brightly against the velvet interior. He watches you carefully, not a doubt in his mind what your answer would be. You know the consequences were you to defy him now, or at any point. But it’s mildly amusing to watch you all the same, watch a plethora of different emotions flit through your face. Fear. Helplessness. Anger. Defiance. Sadness. Resignation.

“I-I…uh…” your eyes blink back tears, and you look past him, undoubtedly at your parents. Your plump lips part, and Steve’s itching to kiss them in front of every single person here as he claims you as his. But instead, he waits, wearing a mask of charming patience as he looks up at you expectantly. And when he finally catches your eye, all he has to do is blink, as if to say: see what happens to them if you disobey me.

“I do.” You whisper. A tidal wave of applause and exclamations follow. Mindless people crying, screaming, whooping, hollering, clapping and snapping pictures as if they had a personal stake in this proposal. But they don’t matter. The only thing that matters is that he’s made you his in front of all of them.

Slowly, he slips the ring on your dainty finger. There’s no sentimental value to it; his agents had picked it out. But it’s a mark of his ownership over you, with his initials delicately inscribed on the inside slightly protruding outwards so they’d brand your skin when you put it on. A taken woman, a kept woman. His forever reward. All his. And nobody else’s.

“He deserves this,” a woman in the audience says, “oh, he’s given so much to our country, hasn’t he? All he does is give, and make unselfish sacrifices for us.”

“Yes,” the man next to her agrees as they both clap, “Steve Rogers deserves this happiness more than anyone else in the world.”

Delicately, Steve gathers you in his arms. You’re so small and trembling, half in a state of shock over what’s just happened, over the weight of the sparkling rock now on your finger. But it doesn’t matter how you feel, not when he’s got the most beautiful girl in the world on his arm, now when he’s just marked his ownership over you. And fuck, he can feel himself harden in his pants at how small you are against him. How weak and helpless and in shock after agreeing your life away to a man you’d only just met a week ago.

“Good girl,” he praises as he hugs you close, the two of you being showered by applause and yet all he can focus on is you.

“I…I…” you can’t speak, can’t stop stuttering, and so all you do is rest your cheek against his chest, and let him hold you, and hug you, and rock you against him. Before he dips your head back and kisses you all sweet and gentle, when all he wants to do is ravish you. Kiss you like a damn caveman and taste your blood simply because he owns you and he can.

He presses his hard crotch against your midriff till he feels you gasp, looking up at him with pleading, wet eyes. And it gets him even harder. You’re his. He’s essentially bought you from your parents, and now he owns you. Your sole caretaker, he’s the one you answer to, cater to, listen to, worship.

God fucking damn… Fuck the doctor’s orders. He wants to shove his cock inside you now, even if it means he’ll permanently break you.

He kisses your forehead, looking beyond you for a moment. Thor’s clapping at the back but he’s got a sad, forlorn look in his eye. Undoubtedly thinking about that bitch Jane who had died. And Bruce and Natasha, hugging each other as they look on happily. As if their sham of a relationship could ever compare to what Steve has with you. Bucky’s there too, arm in arm with his girl, a look of pride on his face.

And right at the back, in the very corner of the ballroom leaning against the wall, is Tony Stark. Nursing a brown bottle of liquor, hair unkempt, face hollow and unshaven since God knows when. And yet his eyes are alert, and he looks straight at him in a way that makes Steve bristle.

“W-Will I get to go home? For a little while? J-Just until the…the wedding?” You ask softly, and Steve looks down at you, the sound of your breathy, quiet little voice going straight down to his cock. There’s something about you asking him that, because he’s who you’d have to seek permission for anything from now on. And it incenses him all over again, and the thought of Tony is wiped completely out of his mind.

He doesn’t even bother answering your pathetic question, instead leaning down to kiss you again. You taste sweet, beautiful and salty with tears. He doesn’t mind. You don’t kiss him back. He doesn’t care about that either. You were completely and irrevocably his, and there was no reversing it. A sudden carnal need has him biting down on your lip. Hard. You whimper. Fuck.

He wants you. Suddenly, he can’t wait anymore. Grabbing your wrist in a crushing grip, he yanks you down the stage. Like the red sea, the crowd parts for him. Clapping, congratulations, more applause. He doesn’t care about any of it. You whimper beside him, the shock of the proposal clearly having yet to wear off because your feet drag against the floor. He huffs in impatience, scooping you up bridal style in one quick, fluid motion. The crowd erupts with more simpers and applause, none the wiser to the dark, carnal thoughts swirling in his head.

He carries you down the side of the ballroom, out into the hallway and towards the bathroom. He can’t wait. He shouldn’t have to wait. You were his bride to be. His little fiancé. His to do with as he pleases. Nobody could stop him. He was Captain fucking America. He’d kill anyone who stopped him. Crush their fucking skulls and paint the hallway with their worthless blood.

It’s like a wild animal has taken over Steve’s mind and soul as he pushes past the bathroom door and all but throws you inside. You wail weakly, and it gets him even harder how fragile you are, how easily he’s able to toss you from one corner to another without even using one percent of his strength.

“Y-You can’t–” You gasp weakly, that delicious pleading look still in your big, wet eyes as you realise his intentions, “The doctor, h-he said–”

Steve can’t get his eyes off your dainty little hand as you hold it in front of you, as if trying to shield yourself from him as you back away till your back is against the wall. The glimmer of your engagement ring as it brands you as his forever. Fuck, he doesn’t think he’s ever been harder than he is right now. A large part of him wishes he’d ended his proposal by fucking you in front of every single guest, letting them watch as he deflowered you and took ownership of your body again and again and again till he’d fucked you into unconsciousness just like he had that first night.

Because now you were forever his. Branded by the ring on your finger, forever tethered to him in every single way possible. Every single person now knew you were the sole property of Steve Rogers. Hell, your own parents had signed you away to him, and now he was your God, your saviour, your caretaker, your everything.

He wraps one hand around your tiny, delicate little throat, lifting you up off your feet in a crushing grip before he kisses you. Really kisses you. Forcing his tongue into your mouth in a display of total dominance and ownership, licking and exploring every part of you. Biting at your lip till he knows you’re crying against him, your little fists pounding on his chest as he kisses you. Your breathless little gasps against his mouth because he knows he’s depriving you of oxygen, choking you while he kisses you, knowing there’s not a damn thing you can do about it because of how weak and little you are.

Abruptly, he puts you down. Undoes his fly, grabs his rock-hard dick and pumps it as he watches you cower, gasping for breath and trying hard not to look at his crotch.

“N-No, Captain, no, please not here. Please, please, please–”

“Get on your knees.”

Steve loves the look of earnest confusion on your face. You’re so pure, so innocent, you truly don’t know what he’s ordering of you. Your pouty little mouth purses, your brows furrow, but Steve’s so fucking hard, that animal inside him roaring at the chance to feel your warm, wet, virgin mouth on his dick. And he’d rather be balls deep in your tight snatch but he knows he can’t, not when you’re so close to healing, not when he’s already abstained for so long.

He shoves you down onto your knees, and it’s the realisation on your face that does it for him. That sweet realisation of what’s about to happen, and the image of you in your pretty little dress, face done up all sweet, not knowing just how ruined he plans to make you look by the end of this. That’s what makes him grab his hard, fat, throbbing cock and smack you across the face with it. Hard.

You cry out in pain, and Steve does it again. Slaps your poor cheek with his fat cock just so you know what’s about to go down your fucking throat with zero mercy.

“Tell me how happy you are to be my wife,” he orders, tracing your lips with the tip of his dick. His precum paints your face, mixes with your tears and makes your cheeks shine.

“I-I’m not, I don’t want this – Captain, please don’t!”

SMACK.

Another smack to your face, and you burst into baby tears as if you can’t take it anymore. As if you’ve been holding them in for this whole function and now you’re really letting it all go. Crying for everything you’ve lost – not that Steve gives a single fuck.

“Say it.”

“I-I’m happy to be your wife, okay?! Please, I can’t do this here, Captain, please don’t make me!”

He grabs your hair and yanks it, and it’s when you scream in agonising pain that he shoves his huge cock down your throat. And again you scream, but this time it feels like fucking heaven – feels like vibrations on his cock as he holds your head down, shoving as much of his huge member as he can fit inside that tiny, tight fucking virgin mouth of yours.

“God fuck,” he hisses, tapping your cheek hard with his palm, “Daddy needed this, sweetheart.”

He can’t help the pet-name, not when you look so sweet and ruined already. On your knees on the bathroom floor in front of him, his huge dick in your mouth, his balls in your face. Tears streaming down your cheeks, your pretty dress spread like flower petals around you. He wonders if you’re wet from how rough he’s being, and the thought sends him into a frenzy, and he bucks his hips against your mouth, making you scream around his dick again.

“You should get used to this,” he hisses, “This is your life from now on, baby girl. This is what you were meant for. You’ll serve me like this every fucking day if I want you to. On your knees like a goddamned whore wife for your husband.”

Except you’re not a whore. No, you’re his innocent little bride. The epitome of elegance and class, of feminine purity. Except for when he’s got you behind closed doors, where he can reduce you to a sniffling, slutty little mess because you’re his and he can and he deserves this.

His cock is so big, you’ve barely taken a quarter of it in your mouth and you’re already struggling to breathe. Choking on his fat cock while you start to panic, your tiny fists pushing and shoving at his abs through his three-piece suit. He takes no heed, instead reaching down to rip your dress down its front, wanting to see your pretty breasts bounce as he truly begins to fuck your face.

You whine and cry on his cock, and that’s when he grabs fistfuls your hair from either side and truly begins to fuck your face. Your eyes widen like saucers with dread pooling in them. You punch him with all your might, try to push him off you but there’s no hope. The bathroom echoes with sounds of struggle, your gasps and screams against his dick that he pushes further and further down your throat with each thrust.

“You like that, don’t you?” As suddenly as he’d started fucking your face, he pulls out of your mouth. You gasp for breath, ready to fall into a heap on the gleaming, tiled floor had he not had a strong grip on you holding you upright.

He spits on your face, taking his time spreading his saliva across your forehead, cheeks, lips, nose. But even that isn’t enough, and he takes his heavy dick, covering in your spit and his precum, and rubs it all over your face. And it gets him so fucking hard, almost like he’s scenting you. Ruining you for anyone else despite the fact that there never would be anyone else.

“Say you like daddy’s dick in your mouth,” he orders you.

“Captain, ple–”

“Say it or I’ll drag you out in front of everyone and fuck you like the bitch in heat I know can be.”

You cry and cry, tears streaming down your cheeks as you look up at him with a mix of fear and revulsion. Your spunk kept coming back, no matter how many times he tamed and broke you. No matter how much he threatened you, hurt you, pushed you around. And it makes you so much fucking sexier to him that he almost can’t stand it. You’re everything he’s dreamed of and more, and it thrills him how scared you are of him, and yet how at the same time you push your luck and keep trying to fight back against him.

“Say it, or I’ll fuck you in front of your parents before I kill them.”

A gasp dies in your throat, and you look up at him with a peculiar kind of hatred. Like almost a revered kind of hatred. Like you’ve never seen anyone so powerful in your life, and he knows how helpless he’s making you feel. And it gives him the biggest fucking power trip he’s ever had.

“I–I like daddy’s dick in my mouth,” you try to downcast your eyes but he’s holding your face in a death-grip, and holding your gaze too.

“I know you do,” Steve sighs, pressing his fat, throbbing cock back into your mouth with such force, he almost knocks you backwards. But with a steel grip in your hair, he begins to move your head up and down. Using your mouth like a goddamned fleshlight as he fucks it. His tip hitting the back of your throat and making you gag around him and he still doesn’t let off.

You’re his pretty little mess, on your knees serving him like he’s your fucking God. Face ruined, dress ripped, your tits bouncing for him. Fuck, he wants to take your nipples in his mouth. Suck and bite them till they’re bruised and sore. He’d take you home and do just that, because you were his. His girl. His fiancé. His bride to be. His little toy. His forever reward.

Now, he takes his dick out from your mouth once more, resting it on your face as he roughly guides your tired, chapped lips to his heavy balls.

“Suck,” he orders, slapping your face lest you pass out on him again. This time, you don’t question him or even protest. Your lips wrap around his balls, sucking like you’re a goddamned pornstar, a half angel, half seductress put on this Earth especially and only to service him.

It doesn’t take long after that for him to blow his load. Not when you’d been teasing him all night, dressed up in your innocent blue dress like you were seducing him. Pressing your little body against his all night because of how weak you were from how hard he’d last fucked you. And it turns him on so fucking much, your physical weakness compared to his brute strength. He could kill you if he wasn’t careful. But he was always careful. He couldn’t lose you now. Not when you were the girl of his dreams and he’d finally made you his.

He cums on your face, wanting to brand you even more. And you blink up at him in delicious confusion, you lashes sticky with his seed, your pouty lips shining and downturned. It gets him hard all over again, and roughly he yanks you up to your feet. Holding you up with just one arm, he drags you to the bathroom mirror, grabbing your chin to get you to look at your reflection.

He drags his finger across your cheek, gathering his cum on it before prodding it against your lips. Your eyes widen, that delicious innocence shining through once more as you gape up at him.

“Lick it off.”

You’re too weak, too scared, to worn out to argue this time. And Steve almost blows another load when you suck on his finger, tasting his cum for the first time. And he takes his time, feeding you his seed till your face shines clean. And he suddenly has this wild urge to fill you up with his cum. Blow a load down your throat, then flip you over and fuck your pussy so savagely before filling you up, and then, when you’re on the verge of passing out again, he’d force his cock straight up your virgin ass and cum in there too.

It excites him, knowing he has the rest of his life – and yours – to subject you to whatever he wants to. And as his wife, it would be your duty to just take it. Sweet little girl, your life was his now. He’d make your decisions, decide what you wore, when you slept, who you spoke to, what you did. And he’d use your body how he deemed fit because it was his, and you were his.

He takes his jacket off and drapes it over your front to protect your modesty before hoisting you up bridal style once more. You’ve practically passed out again, but he doesn’t care. He carries you out of the bathroom and down the hallway. There’s a back elevator that takes him down to a private parking lot underground. His agents have the black car waiting, and he lays you across the backseat.

“I almost forgot you prefer ‘em barely concious.”

Steve blinks, his lip curling at the familiar voice.

Tony Stark steps out of the shadows. Or staggers, rather; his suit creased, and liquor bottle in hand. Steve keeps his face impassive, shutting the door of the car behind him.

“What, you’re leaving so soon? Got tired of dragging that poor thing around like she’s some kind of toy?”

Steve smirks, signalling for his agent to start the car, “Go back inside, Tony.”

“Is she one of the ones you get delivered to your apartment after missions? I’ve seen a fair few of them being carried out once you’re done with them.” Tony downs his drink, “Poor girls. Never knew what hit ‘em, huh?”

Jaw tensing, Steve crosses his arms over his chest, “Take it easy on the drinks tonight, Tony. I think they’re making you hallucinate.”

“She’s too young for your PR circus bullshit, Rogers.”

Of course. Tony was jealous.

“I’ll have one of my agents escort you back upstairs if you’re unable to find your own way.”

“She looked terrified up there. What did you do, threaten to kill her family?” Tony brings his bottle to his lips again, only to realise it’s empty.

Steve only watches him quietly. Studies him, like how he often does. Old, unkempt, borderline crazy old man. A once great leader turned into a punchline. The butt of every joke. Forced to drink himself into a stupor in the shadows whilst Steve was worshipped and revered by the masses like how Tony once was.

Steve smiles easily, “Go to bed, Tony. You’re drunk.”

“I see you, Steve,” Tony slurs, shrugging off an agent who attempts to grab his arm, “I see the real you. At least what you’ve become. And you’re riding this high now, but soon they’ll all see what you really are. Hell, her face will give it away each time you bring her out in public.”

The conversation is hardly stimulating, and Steve finds himself growing bored. He opens the car door, getting a flash of your smooth, pretty legs as you lie unconscious in the backseat.

“Shout it from the rooftops, Tony. Nobody wants to believe a drunk. Nobody wants to take orders from one either.”

Tony sneers, “You’re not taking my spot, pal.”

Steve doesn’t bother answering him. He gets into the car, draping your legs over his lap before shutting the door. Tony was never someone Steve took seriously enough to waste any more energy on him than he really had to. Nor did he think of the man as a serious threat. Steve had already taken Tony’s spot. That fact was as plain as day.

Now, he strokes your bare calf, and watches as you lie in the car. Deathly still, blinking up into the darkness. Morose as you stared out the window, so ruined and deliciously used. He wonders if he’ll ever get used to seeing you like this, seeing you so utterly ravished and broken. He traces shapes against your smooth, supple skin, before pressing a soft kiss to your calf. It’s oddly gentle, especially after the animalist display he’d put on in the bathroom. But you’re like an angel in the backseat of his car, an angel with a sparkling rock on her finger, an angel that was all his. His forever reward.

He has the female agents bathe you once he’s carried you back up to his apartment. He has some things to attend to in his office, and by the time he comes back to his bedroom, they’ve laid you out on his bed in a pretty pink negligee. Fresh and pure like a flower, eyes blinking up like a deer caught in headlights the moment he walks in.

He’d ordered the agents to give you something to knock you out for the night, and it’s clear the drug has yet to take its full effect. Perhaps that’s why you’re not your usual skittish self as he sits on his side of the bed. In fact, he can feel you watching him, your breathing shallow and slow. He was supposed to go back to his other apartment after dropping you off, but he feels an inexplicable need to stay.

“I…I wish you were nice,” you croak out softly, so soft he barely hears it, and yet it surprises him, because you’ve all he’s heard from you up until this point is begging, cries and insubordinate accusations. The drug has you slurring your words slightly, and yet you’re perfectly clear, “It would be so much easier if you were just a little bit nice.”

He doesn’t say anything. Your words are stupid, foolish, childish. To Steve, it doesn’t matter what you think of him. It doesn’t matter what’ll make things easier for you. Instead, he lies down, dragging you till your body’s flush against his. Tiny and peachy warm, smelling like strawberries and cream, the negligee silky soft, your bare skin even softer. It gives him that animalistic urge where he wants to just consume you.

Instead, he holds you closer, till your cheek rests on his chest and your body’s practically on top of his. And he doesn’t quite understand why he requires this closeness right now, only that he just does, and you’re his bride and therefore there to provide him with whatever he wants.

And right now, he wants to hold you. Feel your body against his. Remind himself how small you are, how much power he yields over you. As your husband, your provider, the man you look up to, the man who owns you. He was rough with you in the bathroom after the proposal, but now it’s like the animal is sated, and all that’s left is this almost strange, alien need to have you close.

He lifts you up and presses a kiss to your lips. A soft peck at first, then another one before he deepens it. He wants to feel you kiss him back, just like how you’ve done in the past despite pretending not to want him. But your soft lips remain lax against his, and he draws back to see you sniffle.

“Would it hurt you to be nice?” Your voice comes out so small, so beautifully weak. “Just a little bit nice? Like how you are on TV. I wish… Oh, I wish you’d just…”

You’re babbling, the drug pulsing through your system. And Steve knows better than to respond to your wistful, girlish, drugged up chatter. And yet…

“Niceness gets you nowhere,” he answers quietly, his large hand running up and down your back, his pointer finger tracing against the smooth skin of your arm. “Now go to sleep. That’s an order.”

“He was nice,” you say it so faintly that if it wasn’t for Steve’s advanced hearing, he wouldn’t have heard you. And there’s a certain dreamlike quality to your tone that incenses him to his very core. “He made me feel like a person, and his eyes were kind. I couldn’t stop thinking about them. He… he…”

You pass out, the drug finally kicking in. And you lie there in his arms, all soft and small and asleep. All while Steve remains deathly still, a certain darkness that he’s never quite felt before coursing through his veins.

A darkness that makes him want to choke his best and oldest friend to death.

Whew! Did you make it till the end? I sure hope so! I'd really love to know what you guys think! I am so nervous about this. I know that The Captain's Reward is probably my most popular story, so the sequel has big boots to fill. I really, really hope you guys enjoyed it. Please please do let me know what you think! Feedback, likes and reblogs would mean the whole world to me!

I've also come up with a few questions. But as always, you guys don't have to answer these! They're just for fun hehe. Any type of feedback would be amazing!

What did you think of Steve's proposal? LMAO.

Do you think Steve will grow softer towards reader? Or will he remain how he always is?

What do you think Steve will do to Bucky?

Anyways, I'm so scared to post this I feel like throwing up! I hope you guys enjoy it, thanks so much for being so patient! Love you, bye :)

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction

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arpicityandneed · 5 months ago

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My Turn

18+ f!reader. best friends steve and bucky. dirty talk. bisexual steve. bisexual bucky.

"Tell me again where you want it baby." Your new husband had you in his lap thumbing your clit while you rode him. Your thighs were shaking but you were desperate, tears of frustration on your pretty lashes as you balanced yourself with both hands on his shoulders.

"Inside, Stevie, please?" His hands were roaming over your body possessively, gripping the fat of your ass and thrusting his soaked cock up into you with every down stroke of yours.

"Don't make the sweet thing cry Stevie." Bucky groans as he palms himself through his slacks, waiting his turn for once in honor of your wedding night. Usually he and Steve would've flipped a coin or fought for who got to bully their way inside your pussy first.

"I'm not gonna Buck, she's just so pretty when she begs. My wife." Steve's baby blues were dancing with mischief as Bucky cursed.

"You met her first by accident, Rogers. I'm older-" Bucky started growling the same damn argument they'd been having since they decided they wanted a baby and therefore a wedding. (They were too old fashioned for anything else.)

"Boys, can we argue later?" You cut in breathlessly, and Steves arm wrapped around your waist. Your only warning before he took over- fucking you up and down his shaft like a rag doll as he groaned,

"Alright baby. I gotta do right by my Mrs don't I?" With the smuggest grin you'd ever seen his balls twitched, and spurt after spurt of cum filled you fluttering walls.

"Goddamnit, Stevie." You would've comforted your other boyfriend if you could focus. But Steve's thumb was rubbing your clit as you seized up, coming hard and milking his cock for all he had to give.

You collapsed against his chest.

"You gonna be good for Bucky baby? You got one more in you?" Steve murmured gently as he rocked you on his softening shaft, his cum leaking out of you and drenching his balls in your combined juices.

"Mhm. Want him inside too." You smiled as you kissed him, soft and sweet like you had several hours earlier in front of all your friends and family.

"My turn." You hadn't heard him move but you weren't surprised when you were lifted and bent over the massive bed, Bucky was hardly a patient man once he had the green light.

"Fuck sweetheart, you're dripping." Bucky's voice was hoarse. But Steve, who was laying down close enough for you to tongue at his soft cock, just snorted.

"Don't complain like you don't love it, jerk." Steve guided his shaft into your mouth and murmured softly, "Clean me up baby."

"'M not complaining punk, it's a compliment." You moaned around Steve as Bucky took one good lick of your stuffed pussy before straightening and dragging his cock head through the mess. "Your cum tastes better inside her by the way."

"Shut up, you love my cum anyway you can get it, Barnes."

"Maybe." One smooth thrust and you were full once more, and Bucky goes from teasing his boyfriend to cursing how good you feel. "I gotta say doll. You're kind of a slut."

"B-Bucky!" Your scolding would be more effective if your pussy didn't clench around him from his words and the memories flooding you brain of watching Bucky swallow down Steves cock.

"Greedy fucking pussy-" His moans were loud, shameless. "Back me up here Stevie."

"He's not wrong sweetie. Youre an absolute slut for us. But just us, yeah?" Steve sounds proud. Proud that on his wedding night his wife is being tag teamed by him and his best friend.

Fuck.

You were going to cum, hard and Bucky- the smug bastard- wasn't going to let it happen quietly.

"Someone likes being reminded how needy her pussy is. Clenching down so hard on me doll." Bucky fucked different than Steve. Harder, filthier. His hands were dragging you back onto his fat cock until the audible slap of his hips against your ass echoed around the room. He was getting close you could tell. His heavy balls were slapping against your clit, aching to add to the cum already slicking him inside you. "Should've waited till after the honeymoon to let me fuck her Steve."

His hand snaked around to find your clit and with quick tight circles over your swollen nub you came apart with a cry.

"Yeah, Buck? And why's that.." Steves eyes were narrowed like he was annoyed at being told what to do, but you knew the truth. His cock was growing hard in your mouth again. Bucky thrusted hard inside you before he started to unload, grinding into you as if to make sure his seed took first.

"Cause now we're never gonna know who knocked her up first till the baby's born."

#bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve x reader #mina writes ☆#dark ☆#tw dark content #bucky ☆#steve ☆#f!reader

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 6 months ago

Text

young ladies shouldn’t waltz with vampires

a/n: happy halloween!!! here's the fic you guys voted on and shaped a few weeks ago

polls for this fic: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

summary: “so, here’s the thing,” his ocean eyes then flickered in the same manner Steve’s had, mystically bending your mind to his will, “you’re gonna come with us, be ours to play with for the night. You can go home when the sun comes up, but without remembering the time we shared…”

warnings: vampire!bucky barnes x innocent!reader x vampire!steve rogers, smut, dark content, dubcon/noncon, historical au (1840s), mind control/vampire compulsion, blood, biting, age gap, ball, dancing, polyamory, threesome, first kiss, kissing, loss of virginity, somno, cockwarming, dirty talk, size kink, pain kink, pussyjob, overstimulation, penetrative sex, anal, double penetration, unprotected sex

word count: 3511

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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“I have to admit, out of every rose here, you’re the most breathtaking.”

Glancing up from the table before you, cluttered with crystal glasses brimming with refreshments, your eyes flickered to the man now standing beside you, his own piercing blue stare firmly directed at you and no one else in the buzzing ballroom.

Your stunned lips parted slightly before the gentleman boldly spoke up again, “how come I’ve never seen you before?”

Feeling your breath hitch, you managed to babble, “oh, it’s probably because this is my first time at a proper ball. I haven’t really previously been allowed to come stay at my family’s London estate and–, I’m sorry…” you swiftly stopped yourself, sensing the heat that had ridden in your cheeks, “I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this…”

“Well, lucky us that you got let out of your cage and the rest of us finally get to gaze upon your beauty,” he flashed you a dazzling smile before his eyes flickered to someone behind you, “if you’ll excuse me, I see someone I recognise, but would you perhaps grant me the pleasure of a dance a little later?”

Averting your gaze, a smile tugged at your lips as you uttered, “you’d have to ask my brother.”

“But I’m asking you,” he dipped down to catch your vision, “would you care to dance with me?”

Blinking back at him, you couldn’t help but let out the truth.

“Y-yes.”

As a smile swiftly tilted his lips, the gentleman then bowed slightly before you as he plucked up your gloved hand and pressed his lips to the back of it before disappearing into the merry crowd.

Feeling slightly dizzy, you finally snatched up the drink you’d originally wandered to this corner of the chamber to fetch.

Though as you granted yourself a small sip, fingers suddenly grasped your arm and yanked you deeper into a corner.

“Sister!” you blinked up into your brother’s eyes as he’d evidently spotted you from across the ballroom and, judging by his tone, not approved of what he’d seen, “what in the world do you think you’re doing?”

Ripping your arm free, you furrowed your brows, “what are you talking about? I was just getting some punch.”

“No,” he hissed at a hushed volume, “why were you talking to him?”

A confused scoff then bubbled out past your lips, “I’ve talked to plenty of men at this party, with and without you at my side, so why is he any different?”

“Because, sister,” he leaned down a bit further, “he’s not a man. He’s one of them,” his eyes scanned your own before he spelled it out, “a vampire.”

Though you’d never previously encountered one yourself, you still weren’t so naive to not be aware of the known influential status such creatures of the night had in the society you lived in. Them being in attendance at a fine ball was nothing compared to the other privileges they had achieved over the centuries.

“Really?” you couldn’t help but glance back over your shoulder, though didn’t spot the bloodsucker again.

“God,” your brother groaned quietly, “I know mother and papa have kept you rather sheltered compared to myself, but trust me, you have to stay away from them. They’re monsters, killing is in their nature,” with a hand on your cheek, he guided your gaze back to his, “promise me you won’t speak to one ever again.”

Blinking back at him, you then uttered sincerely, “I promise.”

“Good,” a visible weight then faded from his shoulders as he let go of you and straightened back up to his full height.

As you stayed on the outskirts of the party, one of your fingers curved to trace the lines of the fine glass still clutched in your grasp.

Soon your eyes flickered up from the liquid remaining in the goblet and landed on the other guests. Elegant crinoline gowns swooshed and swayed to the music emanating from the small string quartet in the corner, acting as a heartbeat for the lords and ladies of London as they danced the night away.

“Well, as I live and breathe,” a voice then found not only your brother’s ears, but yours as well.

Twisting slightly, you watched as a wide grin swiftly stretched your brother’s lips, “Thomas!” he spread his arms out for the redheaded man nearly within his reach.

As they pulled each other into a tight hug, your brother’s friend chimed in his ear, “how you doing, old chap?” before withdrawing from the embrace, though still kept one palm fast on your sibling’s shoulder.

“Not bad, not bad–, oh, Tommy,” your brother then suddenly glanced back at you, “this is my little sister,” gesturing betwixt you both, “sister, this is Thomas, we went to boarding school together.”

Extending a hand, you smiled politely, “it’s nice to meet you.”

“You too,” he shook your palm before casting his gaze back upon your chaperone, “would you mind if I stole your brother for a moment?”

“Uhm,” you glanced to your sibling before uttering, “no, of course not. Go, have fun, catch up.”

And before the pair slipped away, your brother leaned down to whisper in your ear, “be good till I get back,” to which you offered him a nod in return right before they both vanished from your sight and left you alone at the edge of the dance floor.

Though as you slowly began to wander along the perimeter, your gaze once again affixed upon the sea of swaying pairs in the centre of the ballroom, your gentle stride then abruptly halted as a bulky figure shifted to pass you, though as the stranger attempted to, the two of you collided and the remainder of the drink in your hand splashed across his jacket.

You both froze as you slowly peeled your wide eyes up from the stain of your drink, that lightly dripped from his clothing, and instead flickered up to find the stare of the aristocrat you’d accidentally bumped into.

“Oh god…” your heartbeat swiftly hammered in your ears, deafening out the elegant music that filled the chamber, “sir, I am so sorry, I-I wasn’t looking at where I was going and–”

“It’s alright,” he hastily put an end to your blubbering as he eyed the soaked patch, “it’ll dry,” he uttered, running a broad palm down over the wetness. Though as his gaze flickered back up to find yours, a slight smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he then said, “well, spilling your drink on me, the least you can do is offer me your name so that I know who to warn about to the people who actually are precious about their attire.”

“Lady Y/n Y/l/n,” you averted your gaze as your knees bent in a gentle curtsy, “delighted to make your acquaintance, even under the circumstances–, again, I am so incredibly sorry…”

“You’re a lady but with such lack of grace? Well, now I understand why you aren’t on the floor dancing with someone,” he jested in a teasing tone.

The heat that had already crept up in your cheeks fiercely worsened, “I am a great dancer, I’ll have you know!”

“Oh really?” a smile dazzled his features, “I think I’ll have to see that to believe it,” he spoke as the current song came to an end and he extended a hand out to you, “shall we?”

For a moment, you let your glance flicker about the chamber in search of your brother, though when you couldn’t spot him, you found your own palm thinking for itself and gliding into the man’s standing tall before you.

Once he’d led you out onto the floor, the palm he slid across your waist, and used to guide you a smidge closer to his own frame, caused a shy gasp to slip past your lips long before your feet began to shift below your poofy plum coloured gown.

“Well, I guess you weren’t lying after all,” you soon heard him note after you’d danced for a minute, your movements having been nothing short of perfection since the very first step.

Blinking up at the blonde man holding onto you tight, you finally asked, “what is your name, sir?”

“Lord Steven Rogers,” the title rolled off his tongue as his own gaze kept yours captive, “at your service, my lady.”

“Are you from here? You don’t sound it,” you commented on his accent, “but are you?”

“That’s a good question,” a slight tilt found his head, “London is one of my favourite places and I have spent many of my years here, but it’s not where I’m from, no.”

“So, you’ve travelled a lot?” you asked as he spun you an arm’s length away from himself.

“You could say that…” he smirked as he twirled you back into his hold, “are you?”

“Am I what?” you found yourself slightly dizzy, though not from the dancing.

“From London?”

“Well, my family does have a place here, but I haven’t spent much of my time in the city. At least not yet, I’m hoping I can begin to now that I’m grown, though to be quite frank, I have no idea where to start.”

“I could be your guide,” his offer caught you off guard, “it might have been a few years since I last called this city my home, but I still know it like the back of my hand.”

Mouth shyly agape, you simply blinked back at him a second before uttering, “perhaps if my brother came along as a chaperone.”

“I thought you said you were grown,” the tone he used to deliver his teasing seeped directly into your bones and made you thankful of his firm grip on you as the pair of you continued to sway to the music, “a girl asks for permission and can’t be trusted on her own, but a woman however, takes exactly what she desires and doesn’t let anyone or anything stand in her way…” his smouldering stare then briefly dipped before you heard him murmur, “so, what are you? A little girl or a woman?”

“I–…” you blinked back at him, struggling to navigate the exhilaratingly foreign situation you found yourself in. However, before you could stammer any further, the song came to a close and the surrounding couples parted ways.

Though before you could take even one step back, his hand kept you close a moment longer as he dipped down for his breath to tickle the shell of your ear.

“Meet me in the garden,” he whispered, causing even more goosebumps to erupt across your skin, “then you can give me your answer...”

The cool night air kissed your cheeks as your glance flickered away from the candlelit terrace you’d abandoned only moments prior in order to stand beside the bushy mouth of the dark hedge maze further down the expanse of the estate’s garden. Faint music still found your ears as it echoed out the open windows of the grand manor where the ball still boomed.

Then suddenly, as you were lost in your thoughts of disbelief at what you were doing, just before you could talk yourself into returning to the party, you felt your hand be grabbed before your eyes fluttered up to find the lord you’d been awaiting, his arrival haven been so sudden that it nearly caused you to jump straight out of your skin.

Without a single word, Steve began to drag you into the maze, far away from any prying eyes and where the darkness could swallow you both whole.

“Where are you taking me–,” you attempted to ask, though as the man then abruptly stopped, what he did next stunned you to your very core.

Pulling you close, closer than you’d ever been to any man before, he then pressed his lips to your own, sufficiently shutting you up before you could elaborate your question any further.

The kiss was abrupt, fevered and entirely your first, leaving you dazed and reeling to catch up to the reality, to the dream you were finally expecting.

When Steve finally felt you relax into him, his feet began to shuffle and shift you back till your spine was pressed up against the denseness of the hedge behind you.

But just as a shy whimper from you vibrated against his tongue and your fingers drifted up to whisper around his silky necktie, the snapping of a twig suddenly found your ears and caused you to jump away from your dance partner.

Casting your glance over Steve’s broad shoulder, you spotted as the dark-haired gentleman, that your brother had so fiercely warmed you about, slithered out from the embrace of the shadows.

“Oh, don’t stop on my account,” the man smirked, folding his arms across his wide chest as he continued to stare.

Eyes wide, you then began to stammer, “Steve,” lightly patting your partner’s arm as he hadn’t yet shifted to protect you with an air of understanding, “h-he’s a–”

“A vampire?” the aristocratic creature raised an eyebrow, “how about you take another look at the lord that just had his tongue down your throat.”

Your panicked glare then fluttered back to Steve in front of you, however, before you could manage to push him away, his hands flew up to either side of your face and he dipped down to stare into your eyes with an intense you’d never witnessed before, somehow locking you up in his gaze as he then compelled you, “don’t scream,” and under the moonlight, you swore you saw his pupils briefly dilate as his wish slithered into your soul, “stay calm.”

Continuing to cup your cheeks, Steve then kissed you once again. Even though his previous words had turned you completely docile in his hold, the sensation of his lips as they soon pecked away from your own, on a determined journey down over your jaw, caused you to melt away that much further.

The neckline of your deep purple gown was so wide that it exposed not only your shoulders, but also crept down scandalously low on your chest.

Your eyes fluttered shut once more as his kisses tickled in their path down your neck, the sensation shooting straight down between your thighs. However, as soon as Steve’s lips were devouring the tender spot where the base of your throat blossomed into your shoulder, a sharp pain suddenly caused your eyes to snap back open as the vampire had sunk his teeth into you.

You winced slightly as blood began to trickle free, your gaze locked with the other man’s as he took a step forward and closed the gap. Standing directly behind Steve, his hand then raised up to stroke your hair.

“So, here’s the thing,” his ocean eyes then flickered in the same manner Steve’s had, mystically bending your mind to his will, “you’re gonna come with us, be ours to play with for the night. You can go home when the sun comes up, but without remembering the time we shared…”

Though you’d barely gotten to sleep an hour, you began to stir as the vampire sprawled out in front of your slumbering form kissed down your neck and swiftly sank his fangs into your shoulder.

Wincing awake and still weak from the blood the two lords had already drained you off, your hiss soon faded into a mumble, “Buck…”

Tilting his chin back a bit, Bucky lapped up the crimson that trickled down from the bite before he whispered, “shh, you can just stay asleep…” and you noticed his hardness straining against you below the covers, “it’s okay, I don’t mind…”

You couldn’t fathom how the vampire still wasn’t satiated after everything that had happened that night, things a lady such as yourself had never dared to even imagine possible. Even now, you were still slotted in between the two naked men under the canopy of a bed in the grand estate they’d taken you to, your virgin blood still staining the sheets, or the little of it that they hadn’t lapped up for themselves to savour.

Though the restless one before you had stirred you for another taste, Steve was still sleeping like a rock. He was laying directly behind you, his burly chest still pressed up against your spine as earlier, when he’d impulsively tried to stretch out your ass, made the decision to do something about that impossible tightness and have that little hole warm his intimidating girth while he slumbered. It made it difficult, to say the least, for rest to come to you as the sensation of his fat cock plugging you up was nearly too much for you to bear.

“Oh, what is it?” Bucky chuckled lowly at the wince you let out as he began to nudge his dick against your puffy pussy, “are you sore?” he asked in a mocking tone, grinning wider as you nodded hazily in response, “but you like it, don’t you?” he torturously tapped the weight of his length against the creamy mess between your thighs, the sensation causing both your holes to throb and clench, making Steve’s cock still embedded deep within you seem that much more enormous, “you like it when it hurts, when the sting of pain mixes with pleasure…” he then caught your eye and compelled you, “tell me that you like it.”

“I like it,” you hear the desperate word flow out your lungs, “please don’t stop, please keep hurting me, keep biting me, drink every drop of my blood, use me however you wish, it all feels so good–, ah!” the pleas he’d made you utter were then cut off by a rippling moan as his bulbous tip suddenly caught your entrance and greedily slid back into your warmth.

The fierce rhythm Bucky swiftly found rocked you so roughly that the movements didn’t just split your poor pussy open as he bucked up into you, but it also caused your frame to shift back against Steve and sink you down that much further on his cock, letting his heavy sack nuzzle tightly against your slick skin.

As your whimpers filled the room and mingled with Bucky’s own grunts of pleasure, you felt the girth in your ass twitch and rapidly grow painfully hard before the arm the slumbering bloodsucker had slumped around your waist tightened as he stirred with a low rumble directly in your ear.

“Mmm… having a little midnight snack, are we?” Steve groggily hummed from behind you as he nuzzled his nose into your tousled hair, “you know she’ll pass out soon if we keep drinking like this.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Bucky then slid his palm down the length of your arm, plucking up your hand till his lips ghosted against it. However, just as you let yourself hope that he’d just plant a peck upon your palm, his teeth instead pierced the flesh, right below your thumb. Although, the vampire did show some restraint as he only offered you a little nip before ripping your hand away from his mouth and holding it out for his partner to grasp, “here, you look parched,” blood already began to pool like a little puddle in your palm from how it slowly oozes out of the wound.

Accepting the delicacy, Steve first dragged his silky tongue over the bite, before he let his fangs sink into you with a deep groan, the taste of you only making him harder. As he began to drink from your palm, his hips greedily began to rock, making you tremble between the two lords of the night from the dizzying manner they both now fucked you.

As your moans filled the night air, Bucky’s fingers found your face in a caress before he leaned in to snuff out your sounds and let you taste the tangy iron of yourself on his tongue. Soon, his kisses began to dance down over the column of your neck, till his face was buried in your heaving tits, leaving a blossoming trail of hickeys to mark his path as he moved down to capture your nipple between his lips.

“I know we usually only keep our dinner till the morning comes,” Bucky muttered as he nipped at your boobs, only pausing to briefly glance over your shoulder at the man behind you, “but there’s something different about this one, don’t you agree, Steve?”

“She’s fucking delicious…” you heard him purr in your ear, “maybe you could be more than just a quick bite to eat…” both of their cocks continued to rock in harmony, filling your holes up to more than the brim, “maybe you can be our girl…”

Sucking in a shaky breath, you tilted your head to catch both of their eyes, “for how long?”

Keeping his neck tilted, Bucky blinked up at you and uttered, “…forever,” before he buried his teeth into the soft peak of your tit.

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bandsofmarv · 5 months ago

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Mine to keep

Bucky can no longer hold in his jealous and possessive side and finally claims you.

TW- Heavy smut, bucky angst , jealousy, possessive behaviour. Kinda long.

Side note // I’m also take requests of any character / theme.

Bucky’s blood had been boiling all night. Steve, the perfect All-American golden boy, basking in your attention, your laugh lighting up every damn corner of the bar. And Steve wasn’t even trying—he never had to. But that didn’t make it easier to watch.

Bucky’s drink sat untouched as he leaned against the bar, his jaw tight and his metal fingers twitching with restraint. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, couldn’t stop the jealousy crawling up his spine every time you smiled at Steve.

When Steve finally stepped away to grab another round, Bucky didn’t hesitate. He pushed off the bar and cut through the crowd, his determined strides carrying him straight to you.

“Hey,” you greeted, your voice light and playful.

Bucky didn’t return the smile. His eyes were dark, fixed on yours as he crowded into your space. “Having fun?” His voice was a low growl, sending a shiver down your spine.

You tilted your head, confused by the tension radiating off him. “Uh, yeah? It’s been nice to catch up with everyone. Steve’s been—”

“Yeah, Steve’s been the life of the party,” Bucky interrupted, his voice tight.

Your brow furrowed. “Are you jealous?”

Bucky’s jaw flexed. “Damn right I am.” His metal hand curled into a fist against his thigh. “Watching him make you laugh like that? Watching you light up for him? You’re mine.”

The intensity in his voice sent a bolt of heat straight through you, your stomach flipping at the raw emotion behind his words. You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, Bucky leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear.

“Let’s go,” he growled.

————————————————————————

The second your apartment door shut behind you, Bucky had you pinned against it. His lips crashed onto yours, hungry and demanding, his metal hand gripping your hip to hold you in place.

“You’ve been driving me insane,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and rough. “Sitting there looking so goddamn perfect, laughing at his jokes like you don’t know you belong to me.”

“I—” Your protest was cut off as he kissed you again, his tongue sweeping into your mouth to claim you. His flesh hand slid down to your thigh, hitching it around his hip to grind his hard length against you.

“You’re mine,” he rasped, pulling back just enough to look you in the eyes. “Say it.”

“Yours,” you gasped, your voice trembling with need.

His lips curled into a dark smirk as he lifted you off the ground, carrying you to the bedroom. He laid you down on the bed, his hands already tugging at your clothes with a mix of urgency and reverence.

“Bucky,” you murmured, your breath hitching as his hands—both flesh and metal—explored your body, pulling away your layers one by one.

“Shh,” he whispered, pressing kisses to your bare skin as he worked. “I’ve got you. Just let me show you.”

When he finally had you naked beneath him, he sat back for a moment, his eyes raking over you with undisguised hunger. “Look at you,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “So fucking beautiful. All mine.”

He didn’t wait for a response. His mouth found your neck, his teeth grazing your pulse point before he kissed his way down your body. His lips and tongue left a trail of fire in their wake, his hands gripping your thighs to hold you open for him.

“Bucky,” you whimpered, your fingers tangling in his hair as he kissed the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

“I want to hear you,” he said, his voice dark and commanding. “I want everyone to know who’s making you feel this good.” And then his mouth was on you, his tongue sliding against your heat with practiced precision. You cried out, your hips bucking against him as he licked and sucked, his metal hand pinning you to the bed while his flesh hand teased your sensitive bundle of nerves.

The pressure built quickly, your body arching as his tongue drove you higher and higher. Just when you thought you couldn’t take any more, he slipped two fingers inside you, curling them to hit that perfect spot.

“Bucky!” you gasped, your body shattering around him as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

He didn’t stop, working you through your orgasm until you were trembling beneath him. Only then did he pull back, his lips glistening as he smirked down at you.

“You’re not done yet,” he said, his voice rough with need.

He stripped off his clothes, his muscular frame glinting in the low light of the room. His cock stood hard and ready, and your mouth watered at the sight of him.

He climbed over you, his hands bracketing your face as he kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his lips. “Turn over,” he ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument.

You obeyed, rolling onto your stomach as he positioned himself behind you. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you up onto your knees before he slid into you with one smooth thrust.

The stretch was perfect, and you moaned loudly, your hands fisting in the sheets as he set a punishing pace.

“You feel so good,” he groaned, his metal hand sliding up your back to grip the nape of your neck. “So tight, so perfect. All mine.”

“Yours,” you gasped, the word spilling from your lips like a prayer.

He leaned down, his chest pressing against your back as he whispered in your ear. “I’ll never let you forget it.”

His thrusts grew faster, deeper, his cock hitting that perfect spot with every stroke. Your pleasure built quickly, and you felt yourself spiraling toward another release.

“Come for me,” he growled, his teeth grazing your shoulder. “Let me feel you.”

The command sent you over the edge, your body clenching around him as your second orgasm tore through you. Bucky groaned, his grip tightening on your hips as he buried himself deep inside you, his own release following moments later.

You collapsed onto the bed together, your bodies slick with sweat and your breaths coming in ragged gasps. Bucky pulled you into his arms, his lips pressing soft kisses to your temple.

“You’re mine,” he murmured, his voice softer now but no less certain.

“Always,” you whispered, your heart full as you melted into his embrace.

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imyourbratzdoll · 2 months ago

Text

𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒔𝒘𝒂𝒏

🕊️a whore's fairytale masterlist🕊️

summary - you come to find out that the man you grew up alongside isn't the same after the royal ball.

warning - smut, dub-con, death, violence, creampie, kidnapping, slight stockholm syndrome, swearing, obsession.

18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

Y/n-Odette and Steve had known each other since she was a baby. Upon Steve meeting her when she was born, their parents had been planning Steve’s marriage to Y/n-Odette. Over the years as the two grew, they despised each other, causing their parents to worry which they would then be forced to be together every summer.

You had been dreading today. You wished to stay home but your father would not allow it. You sat in the carriage, staring out at the scenery, hoping you could distract your mind from having to see Steve again.

Steve squirmed impatiently, thinking of anything that wasn’t you. A stupid, silly girl. Steve groaned quietly as he went to meet you in the ballroom until he stopped, his heart began to thump. Your smile made him feel weak in the knees. You had the same face, hair and eyes as Y/n-Odette but seemed to be someone quite different.

“Hello, Steve.” You speak, smiling softly.

Steve couldn’t speak, he wondered if you were the same girl he had grown up with. He returned your smile, holding out his arm for you to take. He felt his heart skip as you accepted, taking his arm and together you walked onto the dance floor as the music began to play. Steve felt so happy, like he was dancing on air.

After that night, you and Steve had spent the rest of the summer together. Steve dreamed of you, he awoke each morning eager to see you. When he was with you he felt overjoyed, but he was also tongue-tied and could not tell you how he felt. Steve couldn’t imagine living without you, it was almost like an obsession had begun to grow within him.

The summer had come to an end and it was your time to leave. You and Steve decided to dance all night at the royal ball, love burned so bright that the whole ballroom could practically feel it. You smiled up at the handsome prince but inside you could feel a tug of sadness. You couldn’t bear to leave him, he had given you so much love over the summer but he had never declared it. You hoped he would finally tell you how he felt tonight.

As the music came to a stop, so did you and Steve. You both shared a long glance, waiting, searching, hoping.

Steve suddenly turned to the guests with a giant grin. “Arrange the wedding!”

The noise around you suddenly stopped, everyone was speechless.

“Wait!” You called out.

“What is it?” Steve pleaded, “You’re all I ever wanted. You’re beautiful!”

“Thank you,” You replied, “But… What else?” You knew deep down in your soul that Steve loved you as much as you loved him, so surely he wanted you more than your beauty? You just needed him to say it.

Steve stared blankly, he really had no clue. “What else?”

Your heart dropped. “Is beauty all that matters to you?” You asked, your father and his mother stood dumbfounded, they were so close.

Steve swallowed hard. “I… Er… What else is there?” He asked.

Your heart sank even further. You had been wrong, Steve did not love you at all. You turned and swiftly exited the ballroom, taking the hopes of two kingdoms with you.

You and Steve barely said goodbye as you left. He watched as you departed with shock and bitter disappointment.

Steve sits as Lord Rogers paces the royal sitting room. “What else is there?” He mockingly spoke. “She says, ‘Is beauty all that matters?’ and you say, “What else is there?!”

“It was dumb, I know.” Steve replies, hanging his head as he tries to think.

The weather outside was not helping his mood. It seemed to match the sadness he felt deep within.

“You should write a book.” Rogers continued. “How to Offend Women in Five Syllables or Less.” Rogers leans forward, flicking Steve’s forehead. “Think!” He urged. “You must see something other than Y/n-Odette’s beauty!”

“Of course I do, Rogers!” Steve begins to stumble as he thinks. “She’s… Well, you know. And then, well… Er…”

Lord Rogers rolled his eyes.

“Oh, I just don’t know how to say it!” Steve finally blurted out, and then he added. “I know, I’ll prove it to her. I’ll prove my love!” He nods to himself before muttering. “I’ll make her mine. I’ll make her see how I see her.” Steve stands, swiftly exiting the room as he begins to form a plan.

Meanwhile inside the carriage, your father shakes his head sadly. “I just don’t understand.” He looks at you, watching as you continue to look out and into the forest. “What else did you want him to say?”

You bite your bottom lip softly before letting it go as you turn to look at your father. “I just need to know that he loves me.”

Suddenly the horses whined and bucked, causing the carriage to stop. “What on Earth–?” King William, your father turned the door handle and stepped out. Beyond the horses, a large man was blocking their path. Although the man stood in the shadows, King William recognised him instantly. He had watched him grow from a small child but he could feel something was off and with one look at you, he orders. “Stay inside, Y/n-Odette.” He closes the door and takes a step forward, his guards moved to encircle him, spears drawn.

“Steve, what are you doing out here so late? How did you get here?” The King had never felt this kind of fear before, it was as though something had possessed the man before him. He looks around, brows furrowed as he sees no way for Steve to have gotten there without them noticing. “You must be cold, my boy. Why don’t you hop inside our carriage and we can take you back to your mother. I am sure she’s worried.”

Steve chuckles and the sound causes The King to stumble, it sounded so dark, so chilling. “I can’t have you do that, sir.”

The Kind and Steve’s mother had always wanted the two of you together but at this moment, he didn’t know this man. At this moment, King William would do anything to protect you. He could feel strong amounts of power radiating off of Steve, darkness he had never felt before. King William steps back towards the carriage, his guards moving forward slightly, protecting him and you.

Steve’s eyes sweep over them all, causing a shiver to run through their bodies. “Why are you scared?” Steve takes a small step forward, his foot sinking into the soil beneath him.

King William clears his throat, straightening his back. “We are not scared. Why don’t you come back with us? Then we can take you back in the morning.” His head whips around as he hears you scream, his eyes widen as he sees Steve’s best friend pulling you from the carriage.

Thumps can be heard and The King whips back around only for his eyes to widen as Steve stands toe-to-toe with him and his guards lay dead around them. “I said, I can’t have you do that, sir. I want Y/n-Odette and as long as she has you, she will never fully devote herself to me.” Steve towers over the short King, making him seem as tiny as an ant. “I may have screwed up this evening but she will be mine.”

“S–Ste–” King William is cut off by Steve’s hand gripping his throat, his eyes bulged and skin begins to turn purple.

Everything had turned black after you were pulled from the carriage, unaware of what had happened with your father. You woke up surrounded by water but you felt weird causing you to look down, shock and fear shoot through you as you see white. You were no longer in your body, instead of a human body it had been replaced with that of a swans.

“Y/n–Odette.” Hope ran through you as you heard Steve’s voice, your eyes darting around until they landed on his large figure. “You’re finally awake, my little swan.” That hope that had built inside of you had come crashing down once you realised that he wasn’t there to save you. Your body moves, gliding across the water, distancing yourself away from the man you thought you had known. “Don’t let the small spell make you sad, Y/n–Odette. It doesn’t last the whole day, as soon as the moon comes up…”

Steve didn’t need to finish, creeping across the lake the moonlight touched your wing. Water began to swirl from below, your swan-like self rose upward in a shimmering golden-grey light, transforming you into your human form.

Steve grins. “That’s how it will be until you are mine, Little Swan.” He said as you landed gently on the shore. “You have to be on the lake, of course and when the moonlight touches your wings, you’re human!”

You turned away from him, betrayal blossoming within you. Your thoughts went to your father. “My father… Is he okay?”

“Define okay…”

You spun around, eyes wide and full of tears. “What did you do to him?!”

Steve merely shrugs. “I may have killed him.”

You gasp, reeling back as the tears begin to slowly fall. “Y–you…”

Steve moves closer, his hand reaching out to touch your cheek but you move your head. His brows furrow as anger seeps in but he shakes it off, allowing you this. “Killed him, yes. I had to, otherwise I couldn’t have you, Y/n-Odette.”

“You can’t have me now, Steve! You killed my father! You kidnapped me and trapped me at this lake forever!” Your eyes meet his, so many emotions swirl around behind them. “I could’ve gotten over you only liking me for my looks but this… This is too much. You’re not the man I thought you were. The man I grew to love…”

“Now, don’t speak like that, Y/n-Odette. Sooner or later you are going to cave into being mine. You’ll learn to love this version of me.” He grabs your chin, ignoring how you fight against his hold and places a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Don’t fight it, little swan. You’ll be mine soon.” And with those words, he leaves. Leaving you alone and broken, your body hits the ground as sobs break free, your pain filling the forest around you.

Days, weeks, maybe even months go by without you giving into Steve and his advances. No matter what he did, you remained silent and distant. You began to enjoy your swan form, using it as an excuse to escape your human problems.

On the other hand, Steve was slowly losing it. He began taking his anger out on everyone else, those who loved and admired him, now feared him. His mother thought that it had something to do with your disappearance and your father’s death. Only if she knew the truth would she hate the man her son became.

Steve grew impatient, he didn’t understand why you weren’t his already. Why did you have to be so stubborn? Did you not see how much he loved you? “What else do I have to do, Buck? She’s supposed to be mine.” He put his head in his hands. His best friend watched him from the doorway, arms crossed.

“I don’t think you’re being rough enough. You’re being too sweet on her, Steve. A woman like her needs rough handling, someone to dominate her.” Bucky pushes off of the wall and moves closer to his friend. “You need to stop playing Mr. Nice guy.”

Steve nods, standing and patting Buck’s shoulder with a smile. “You’re right, Buck.” His smile slowly turns into a smirk. “I guess it’s time to go get my girl.” And with that, he walks out of the castle and into the woods.

Steve reached his destination the moment moonlight shone on the lake, watching golden-grey swirls appear as your form changes from swan to human. He grins, sauntering straight towards you. “Little swan. As beautiful as ever.” He shakes off the strange feeling that appears when you brush off his words, already ignoring and moving away from him. Too bad Steve had already reached you before you could distance yourself further.

He pulls you closer to him, gripping your chin roughly as he forces you to look him in the eyes. “I don’t appreciate this attitude, Y/n-Odette. You’re mine and I am going to make you see that whether you like it or not.” You shiver under his hold as he growls. Steve pulls you over to a tree and pushes you up against it, your dress bunching up against your hips as he lifts you, wrapping your legs around his waist.

Your pulse quickens and your eyes widen, you push against his shoulders with poor attempts. Deep down you wanted this, you just didn’t like the person he became. “N–no, no. Steve. You… You can’t do this. Please.”

Steve caresses your cheek, smiling almost too sweetly at you. “You don’t have to pretend anymore, Y/n-Odette. You’re mine. We’re meant to be together.” His hand moves, gripping your chin with his thumb. His eyes fall to your lips as your mouth opens slightly. “I’m going to make you my wife, my Queen, little swan. Then you will bear my children.”

You shake your head, ignoring how you throb at the thought. “I’m done waiting for you to give in, Y/n-Odette. You need to understand that you’re already mine.” Steve presses against you, feeling you throb against his clothed cock. “You feel that? That’s what you do to me, little swan.” A small whine slips through your lips. “Just give in. Let me make you feel good.” You gasp as he pulls you into a kiss, all thoughts leaving your mind as his lips begin to move, pulling you deeper into his hold. Steve nips your bottom lip, sliding his tongue inside as a moan escapes your mouth.

You barely notice as he frees himself, sliding his hardened cock between your lips. Your grip tightens on his shoulders, pulling away slightly. “S–Steve…”

His hand moves, caressing your cheek. “Shh, little swan. It’s okay.” Your mouth drops and eyes roll back as he slides into you, filling you to the brim with one thrust. “That’s my good girl, feel so good for me.” Steve grunts, pressing you into the tree harder while he holds back from roughly fucking into you. You go limp in his arms, never having felt this amount of pleasure before, not even the times when you had touched yourself.

“O–oh… Steve…”

Steve smirked to himself, “Is that all you needed, little swan? My cock? If I had known all I had to do was fuck you to get you like this, I would’ve done it along time ago.” You want to argue back, huff and disagree with him but he was right, you couldn’t think when he was inside of you. His grip on you tightens before he suddenly begins to fuck you, slowly pulling out only to roughly thrust back in. Your moans trapped in your throat and your back arches, pressing close to his.

Steve grunts, his eyes locked on your face. He felt smug that the pleasure you were feeling was caused by him. He changes the angle of his hips, his cock sliding deeper inside of you, hitting spots you didn’t even know existed. Your hands grip Steve’s back, nails clawing into any skin you can find.

Steve’s hand moves up, his thumb swiping the necklace that lay around your neck. His hips not stopping as he stares deep into your eyes. “The moment I gave you this necklace, Y/n-Odette was the moment you became mine, there was no stopping this fate. You’re stuck with me, little swan.”

Your walls clench around him as he claims you. His thrusts pick up as he begins to pound into you, chasing his release. He grips your hips and neck, pulling you into a deep kiss. The moment his lips meet yours, it feels like your mind has become cloudy, unable to think about anything other than the feeling of him inside you. You didn’t know how someone’s lips had the power to wipe your mind clean of any thoughts.

Steve shoves a hand between your legs, his fingers finding your swollen clit and immediately pressing on it. Rolling it between his fingers before stroking it while his cock continues to hit deep inside. “Cum for me, little swan. Let me feel you milk my cock.” Steve groans, pressing closer to you as he whispers against your lips.

Your head falls back against the tree, feeling your cunt pulse and throb as Steve continues to rub your swollen clit and thrust against the sweet spot deep inside you. “Go on, little swan. Cum for me.” Your eyes cross as Steve buries himself deep inside of you, your toes curl as you squeeze him. You feel your orgasm ripple through you, your moans echoing throughout the forest.

“My good little swan.” He growls out as he fucks into you before his cum shoots out, painting your walls a pretty white. As Steve softens inside of you, he pulls back to look at your face and grins almost evilly, the back of his hand stroking your cheek. “You’re going to make such a pretty Queen, little swan.”

You would learn that you may think you know someone but everyone has a little bit of darkness lurking within and you just happened to be the target.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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chxrryhansen · 1 year ago

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౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐑𝐘

Pairing; Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings; smut, dark themes, non con, breeding kink, oral- both receiving, degrading, size difference, unbalanced power dynamic, huge daddy kink, choking- to the point reader can’t breathe, dumbification, dacryphillia, spanking, steve is very dark in this, no aftercare!! i think thats it? Minors please DNI!!!!!

Summary; Steve Rogers, your boyfriend, the man everybody loved, his soul soft, standing against all evils. Until he got a taste of that sweet power. He became hungry. Now, you have no choice but to obey his rules. Can you bring him back to the light? Or is it too late? (it’s definitely too late)

here we have my first ever full fic! firstly i would like to give a huge thankyou to @dbnightingale24 for giving me the confidence and tips to write this! and another big thankyou to @evansbby and @hansensgirl for inspiring me in the first place for begin writing💘it’s around 3k words and i really put my all into this so please don’t forget to comment and reblog, i would love to hear all of your feedback!🫶🏻 much love, cherry.

₊♡₊˚ 🎀・₊✧

Steve Rogers, the man everyone respected, the man everyone believed in, looked up too. The man you used to cherish, his sweet boyish nature drawing you in from the moment you met. His pearly blues that used to soften as they fell on you, his gentle touch as he caressed your hair, the tender, loving kisses he used to leave all over your body.

Until Fury resigned that was.

Steve was officially the new director of shield, to which nobody opposed, i mean, who would right? He was Captain America, the man out of time. He was perfcet for the role. Strong willed, commanding yet understanding, he had respect for those beneath him and most of all he was compassionate, something that was hard to find in a good leader. This didn't last for long, of course.

Steve shortly became power hungry, his morals became more sick and twisted as his methods became more sadistic. He was violent, cruel…volatile. There was no bringing back Steve Rogers. The problem was he dragged everybody else down with him, nobody dared to stand up to Steve, too frightened of the consequences.

Tony couldn't talk Steve down, he tried for a while, attempted to reach out to him, guide him back to the light...but nothing worked. Tony couldn't do it, nor could you, not even his best friend of over a decade could sway his newfound mindset. You all figured it was best to keep your heads down from now on and follow Steves orders, no matter how out of line they seemed.

Not that you had a choice anyway.

Bucky was short to follow in his footsteps as his second in command. Both cruel and unforgiving. Your friendship with Bucky was practically non-exhistant, you no longer had movie nights together, giggling with big buckets of popcorn.

A simple nod of his head as he passed you down the hall was about as much as you would get. Steve wouldn't allow it now anyway.

Steve's display of affection changed alongside him, the love he made was no longer passionate, or gentle. In fact, he didn’t make love at all anymore… what he made was simply rough, hard, fucking.

The marks he left behind were no longer loving hickeys while he whispered in your ear, moaning sweet nothings as he gently thrusted his hips into your own. His eyes, gleaming with nothing but pure devotion.

They were bruises... bruises from how hard his hips slammed into your ass from behind, his grip tight on your hair, pulling and tugging as your skin became flustered at the impact of his thrusts. You missed the man he was. You often thought about that life while his cock was busy destroying your cunt. He didn’t care about your pleasure anymore, you were nothing but a hole for him to fuck.

From a distance you could hear Steves heavy boots storming down the coridoor. The sound was instantly unsettling. Your body recognising the noise as a trigger for an oncoming threat, sending you into alert mode.

You stood from your office chair on shaky legs, your posture rigid as he turned the corner to enter. His 6'4, stoic figure coming into view, casting a shadow that filled the room. His broad shoulders spread wide, his presence making your tummy tighten with unease.

He said nothing as he stared down at you, your fingers tugging at your short pink skirt- which he had chosen out for you this morning, the same way he customised your figure every morning. Claiming your dumb, baby brain was incapable of choosing an outfit that proved elegance and professionalism. In reality it was the complete opposite.

He liked to dress you in short skirts, ones that left little to the imagination, your asscheeks peeking out most days and revealing blouses, your tits practically spilling out of your shirts. You were highly sought after by the males at the compound before he came and scooped you up a few years ago.

They knew you were his, i mean he was your boyfriend for several years, you were what the female agents used to coo at, naming you as "couple goals". Where Steve went, you went, and vice versa. You were always seen smiling and giggling together, tag teaming on missons and holding hands as you explored the compound.

But, as steves power grew so did his insecurity. His possesive nature grew strong, wanting, no, needing to show other men you belonged to him, and only him. And you always would, whether you liked it or not.

"Get on your knees."

"Wh-What?"

"Get on your knees. You know i don't like to repeat myself." he growls while pushing your office door closed with one arm from behind, not daring to take his eyes of you.

You gulped as he stepped forward, caging you inbetween his thick biceps as you lean against your desk. One thing he was always good at was making you feel small. Even before all of this. Of course it wasn't anywhere near as threatening as it was now. He used to joke about how tiny you were compared to him, how he could pick you up with one hand, it was cute how big and protective he was of you.

Now, he used it to his advantage. He knew you feared him. He knew that you knew, you would never be able to run from him. He would overpower you every damn time with his brute strength.

There was no running from Steve Rogers. His thick beard scraped against your sensitive skin sending shivers down your spine as he groaned into your neck, your scent driving him wild.

He whispered darkly in your ear "Final chance. Get on your knees. Now, or you won't like what'll happen if you refuse me again."

You inhaled sharply, goosebumps spreading across your body in pure fear, or ecstacy. It was hard to tell these days. Steve had conditioned you so well to his own liking that even your body reacted to him in ways you would never fully understand. Or so he says.

Slowly you inched down towards the floor with your knees bent. The cold, rough flooring instantly proving to be uncomfortable as you figited. But Steve didn't care about that, why would he? His thick hand gripped your chin, forcing you to look up at him through hooded eyelids.

His thumb swipes across your bottom lip, he then pushes further, massaging your tongue as saliva begins to pool in your mouth. Removing his thumb slowly, he tugged on your bottom lip with pinched fingers. Before you even realised what was happening he shoves two fingers down your throat.

You sputter and gag around his thick digits, drool leaking out of the corners of your mouth, dripping onto the hard floor. Your eyes squeezed shut in pain as tears began rolling down your flustered cheeks.

His other hand is quick to grip your hair, tugging harshly. "You fuckin' look at me while daddy gags you with his fingers. Actin' like you don't get off on this shit. You love it. Say 'thankyou daddy'." he mocks with a high pitched tone.

Desperately trying to get the words out, you mumble around his fingers, seeming incoherent. He laughs darkly at your poor attempt, shoving his fingers deeper down your throat, gagging you one last time before pulling out.

"You gonna' be a good whore n' suck my dick? Huh? You fuckin' slut." His hand reaches down, pulling your shirt to the side, making your tits spill out. You hear him let out a loud groan, his pants tightening at the sight of your bare chest. He pinches your hard nipple roughly, rolling it roughly inbetween his index finger and thumb as you cry out, tears continuing to stream down your cheeks.

He shushes your cries gently as he begins to massage the same spot he previously assaulted making you keen with pleasure.

He had a thing for associating pain with pleasure, confusing your silly little brain into thinking the hurt he put you through was a good thing since pleasure soon followed. That he was rewarding you.

"Unzip me. Cmon' you dumb baby, take daddys fat cock out."

Listening to your own heartbeat in your ears, your head pounding with adrenaline, your fingers itch towards his pants. Which was apparently too slow for his liking as his grip on your hair tightens, making you sqeeze your eyes shut briefly before opening them, not wanting to anger him further.

You hurridly unzip his pants, reaching into his boxers and pulling out his cock. It's angry head pointing towards you as he grips the base with his other hand, slowing pumping his shaft over your face.

He pushes his bulbous tip into your closed lips, smearing his hot precum all over them. When you refuse to open your mouth he growls, pinching your nostrils closed. Feeling the air begin to leave your lungs, you gasp for breath and he's quick to shove his dick down your throat.

Gagging at the intrusion you cry harder, your lips stretching to fit around his thick length. his hips thrusting into your face as he fucks your throat harshly.

"That's it, you whore. Take daddys dick all the way down your throat. You fuckin' remember this the next time you try to refuse me."

His hand which was previously tugging at your hair moves towards your throat, holding you in a tight grip.

"Fuck... i can feel my fuckin' cock in that tiny throat of yours. Love it when you cry f' me, just makes me want to fuck you even harder, sweet girl." he grunts loudly over the sound of your gagging. Steve swiftly pulls his dick out as you keel over, coughing and sputtering, your throat sore from his brutal assault.

Before you even have a chance to gain your breath, his thick hands grip your shoulders, pulling you upright, bending you over your desk. Your legs shaking as he positions you so your ass is sticking out.

Lowering himself to the ground, he grips the flesh of your ass, squeezing roughly as he lifts up your skirt, briskly pulling your panties to the side. He shoves his nose into your pussy, groaning in delight at your sweet scent.

"Fuck i could live inbetween these slutty legs, your cunt's always ready for daddy, huh? Trained you so well." Your sticky juices smeared across your legs, dripping with desire, his facial hair bristling against your thighs making you squirm.

He mercilessly pushes his tongue as deep as it can go into your hole. You whimper as he laps up your wetness, his tongue prodding at your insides. Your arousal soaking his beard while your pussy clenched around his tongue. He pulls away for a moment, “God, how do you taste so fuckin’ good.” he groans.

Reaching back to grip his hair in your small fists, you go to push his face back into your cunt, completely overwhelmed with pleasure. His hand grips your wrist tightly, pining your arm to the desk, a sure reminder of who's in charge, seeming as you had forgotten your place. “Stay fuckin’ still or i’ll stop. Don’t you ever pull that shit again.”

You moan lewdly as he moves to latch onto your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around your sensitive bundle of nerves. Groaning into your pussy as he fists his cock.

Your eyes begin to roll back as your orgasm itches closer. Steve, realising this, pulls away once again. Your juices stringing from your clit to his lips as you cry out, your orgasm beginning to fade.

"Stop with the fuckin' whining. Daddy's gonna' fuck you now. Tell daddy how much you want his cock...Cmon. No need to act all innocent now." he pressures at your hesitation.

"P-Please daddy wan' you to fuck me."

"You can do better than that." Steve husks, giving your ass a harsh smack from behind, knowing your skin will blister from his force.

Your lips quiver as you cry, "Please! N-Need your cock inside me so badly, wan' you to destroy me for anybody else. Wanna' feel you in my cervix daddy, Jus' wanna make you feel good. Love how full you make me feel. Please...I-I'll die if you don't fuck me. Pretty pretty ple-."

and before you can finish your sentence your cut off by your own scream, his cock dissapearing inbetween your folds as he bottoms out with a singular thrust. Your legs become slack as your body spasms at the intrustion, his hands grip your hips, keeping you in place as you squirm, instinctively trying to escape his hold.

"F-Fuck, Y-Your so big daddy. It hurts so bad, p-pull out!"

"Shut up." he groans as his thick hand covers your mouth from behind. “Gonna fuckin’ dog fuck you til you can’t think of anything but this fat fuckin’ cock you dirty little slut, you hear me?” he practically growls as he begins to fuck you.

The sound of clapping skin begins to fill the room, agents around the compound sure to hear the way his dick bruitalises your cunt.

"Such a filthy girl i have, always so desperate for daddy to fuck you, even when you try and deny it, i know this sweet pussy would never lie to me." He coos in your ear as you sob, your face wet with tears and saliva.

"My messy whore, see what happens when you don't listen to me? You see what a mess you become? Fuck. You look so pretty like this, this is how you should always be, filled to the brim with my fat dick.”

Steve had always loved fucking you braindead, watching as your eyes glaze over and your tongue begins to hang out of your mouth, drooling all over yourself. It made him feel powerful, like you were dependent on him. Which you were in a sense, always so needy and desperate for him to fuck you.

The impact of his animalistic thrusts turn your skin raw as he speeds up. His arm wrapping around your waist, pressing you close to him as he spreads his legs further apart, hitting a new angle inside your pussy. You let out a loud wanton moan as his balls slap against your clit.

“F-Fuck yes! H-Harder daddy.”

“Yeah? You like that? I know you do, it’s okay. Is my little girls brain goin’ fuzzy? Huh? Poor girl.” Steve mocked, amusement clear in his tone. "M' gonna' cum. Daddy please can i cum?" you whine, the knot in your stomach tightening, a warning that your orgasm was near.

"Yeah baby? You gonna' cum for me you dirty whore? Go ahead, cum all over my dick. Can feel you clenching around me, grippin' me like a fuckin' vice."

Your cream coats his length as you let out a muffled cry, biting your lip harshly as you cum.

"T-Thankyou daddy. Feels s-so good..." you babble, your thick cream creating a ring around the base of his cock. Your weight giving out once again as Steve holds you, smirking as he watches you come undone, giving you no escape from his relentless thrusts.

His thick shaft pummeling your insides as you scream with ecstacy, your pussy throbbing as he fucks you through your high.

"F-Fuck look at that... love watching your cream leak around my cock, taking this dick so good for me. Gonna' cum inside you...yeah? You want daddy to fill you up?" he groans as his own orgasm nears, talking himself through it.

"God, this cunt treats me like a fuckin' king. It's coming baby, daddys gonna cum, Oh fuck fuckkk." his hips twitch and his balls throb as his load begins to fill you, shooting out thick ropes of hot cum into your pussy. Moaning at the sensation of his warmth inside you.

“Take my fuckin’ cum. That’s it, good girl. Love watchin’ your pussy swallow my hot fuckin load, bet you love it too, hm? You slut.” he pants, exhausted from the brutal fucking he just gave you.

He snaps out of it almost instantly, pulling out without warning and tucking his softening cock back into his pants.

Giving your ass a harsh smack, he steps back. You turn to look at him, your eyes glazed over. He stares at the ground with no emotion as he combs his locks with his fingers, making himself seem presentable.

Hope fills you, your heart races as you lick your lips in anticipation, wondering if he will stay to comfort you and hold you the way he used to many months ago.

But he doesn't. You get nothing but a short glance as he turns to exit your office, slamming the door shut on his way out. You slump down against the floor, a complete mess.

Your soft cries turn to sobs, breathing rapidly, your hands gripping your hair as you raise your knees to your chest. It was almost as if he had you in a trance when he was burried inside your cunt, as soon as he was done it was like the fog in your brain had cleared.

People told you there was no bringing the old Steve back, that your sweet, caring boyfriend was gone. Replaced by a monster.

You didn't want to believe them... but maybe you should've.

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planetallure · 8 months ago

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⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ dark!fic recs

CW: once again, these works contain dark and explicit themes that may be upsetting or triggering to some. please use your discretion and discernment.

@cherienymphe : when i first seriously got back on tumblr and got into dark!fanfic, cherie's was one of the first blogs i found. her writing was essentially my indoctrination. it was terrifying how much i loved it/her writing. truly phenomenal. i've read quite of few of her stories (mainly for rafe cameron, jj maybank, steve rogers, and peter parker) but i'll list my faves.

"when the party's over" - its something about this series...i think about it often. if you're into forced pregnancy or corruption tropes, tap in.

"wicked games" - i actually first read this one on ao3 before i discovered her tumblr and was absolutely gagged. another one i think of often.

"amnesiac" - the first series of hers that i ever read. absolutely traumatized me and i sobbed reading it. amazing storytelling.

"the hills" - another bangerrr. a one night stand ends in complete and total blackmail and entrapment. he just wanted to give her a better life *clown face emoji*.

"his father's son" - after ward death, rafe takes over the reins in more ways than one.

"teenage dirtbag" - this series single handedly made me a jj girl. the tension??? yup yup mhm.

"the less i know the better" - ironically my favorite part of this story is readers relationship with rafe but seeing jj slowly and then rapidly descend into madness? yeah.

"claimed" - a/b/o dynamics. brought me back to my wattpad days. still eat it up.

"daddy dearest" - steve meets a single mom and decides to be not the stepdad, but the dad who stepped up.

i'll be honest, i was a non believer in dark!peter but: "she's with me", "one last time." "suburbia" and "basic training" made a believer outta me. hands. down.

@lambtotheslaughterr : it absolutely amazes me the things that come from her mind. the level of creativity and originality needs to be studied. oona, you are criminally underrated.

“rise” - the first series of hers that i read. arguably the best series i’ve read on here thus far. this is the first part to her “the day the world ended” universe and it completely blew me away. i couldn’t believe that something like it had come from some silly little boat show. just brilliant.

“when the bough breaks” - the first work of hers i read. this one for me was a heartbreaking slow burn story, but the smut…makes up for it. yes yes.

“i burn” - sex!addict reader x rafe cameron. need i say more? actually, i will. the smut and tension in this one towards the end? it was shameful how turned on i was.

“one way or another” - buckle up, grab a snack, and prepare for the ride of a lifetime. that’s it.

“something wicked this way comes” - a single mom trying to escape her past, except her past is rafe cameron. this was one very spooky scary la la.

"summit" - the second part to the tdtwe universe. its still brand new but its already feeling like another banger, i mean it's oona. tap in.

@harryspet : rae was also apart of my indoctrination and boy did she do what needed to be done. her perfectly curated moodboards alone did it for me. very mindful, very demure.

"homestead" - what can i say...i'm a sucker for pregnancy stories :( and this series was no exception. absolutely delectable. enjoy.

"well kept" - classic millionaire ceo x reader, my younger wp reading self cheered gleefully. my love language is acts of service and boyy was this one speaking my language. had me at "scheduled braiding appointment."

"bambi eyes" - this one was one of those that made me want to take a good long look in the mirror and ask myself, "is this who we are...is this what we represent?"

@sherrybaby14 : this one is for the mcu girlies. more fics than you could ever ask for. everyone say "thank you, mother!"

"the distraction" - i'm starting to notice a kidnapping/stockholm syndrome pattern here...ANYWAY! work is realllyy stressful for steve and you just happen to be the perfect distraction.

@straywords : she's no longer active but her incredible writings remain so please, peruse. its like a beautiful museum over there.

"a break" - *gasp* another pregnancy story! stucky edition.

@darkficsyouneveraskedfor : an icon, a legend, she is the moment! another infinite library for my mcu girls. roo has all you could ever want or ask for.

@perlelune

"all too well" - yes, yes, another one, its who i am. rafe cameron proving once again that you can't escape him.

"lucky" - best friend!rafe x reader. he didn't know what he had until it was almost gone

"tag, you're it" - never read a scream fanfic before this one but boy did i have fun! chad is so pookie in this too :(

@honestsycrets : back when i was in my miguel era, sy single handedly kept me fed.

"starved | mio" - "mio", in which you babysit mayday and it gives miguel baby fever and "starved", in which he made you a mom...but its left less time for other activities.

"stung" - sex pollen/abo. reader gets bitten by an anomaly causing a reaction that only miguel can cure

"amor y respeto" - he just can't love you the way you need to be. so you and miguel break up...at the worst possible time.

"exclusive" - you and miguel are fuckbuddies. you want more, but miguel can't bring himself to give it to you. so you find company in hobie, who's there for you in all the ways that you need. miguel's not happy about that.

"canary" - you're a singer in the 1920s who's fallen in with the dangerous o'hara brothers.

"grande" - sex!worker miguel x assistant!reader. think...a pepper x tony kinda dynamic. except, miguel doesn't take kindly to certain slights. :)

@starfxkrinc : last but certainly not least! moony is a ridiculously talented writer and a mutal of mine. i found her early on during my resurgence on here. this is her new side blog (rip lovesickbrat and starfxkr!!) luckily she was able to salvage a lot of her past works and is back like she never left. i recommend her "western nights" series (really just the trailer park!jj tag in general) and her "ode to eaters" au. a queen of all things taboo. she does it for the girls who are drawn to the dark and scary. the gross and weird. <3

#lari's fic recs #dark!rafe x reader #dark!rafe cameron #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!peter parker #dark!peter parker x reader #dark!jj maybank #dark!jj maybank x reader #dark!ethan landry #dark!ethan landry x reader #dark!ransom drysdale #dark!random drysdale x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #rafe x reader #jj x reader #rafe cameron x reader #jj maybank x reader

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sosa2imagines · 3 months ago

Text

My girl.

Warning- Soft dark Bucky and Steve, manipulate, spiking drink, planning and kidnapping maybe?, possesiveness, jealousy, 6.6k words.

You tug at the hem of the black dress Natasha had lent you, feeling a little out of your comfort zone but enjoying the way it hugs your curves. Even Thor, your ever-blunt best friend, had taken a moment to whistle in appreciation when he saw you. “Damn, Sweets, if I wasn't already taken...” he'd teased with a wink, earning a playful slap from Wanda.

You laughed, shaking your head, “Thank you, but come on lets go, Natasha is waiting for us!!!”

Now, inside the nightclub, you were mesmerized. The music was pulsing through the air, vibrating under your skin, and the flashing lights created an electric energy that makes it impossible not to get caught up in the atmosphere. Wanda and Thor were already pulling you towards the bar, but your gaze lingers, scanning the crowd.

That’s when you see them.

Two men, both wearing baseball caps, an odd choice in a place like this. One has short blond hair, his face sharp yet friendly even under the dim lighting. But it’s the other one who catches your attention. Dark brown hair falls slightly into his eyes, piercing blue beneath the brim of his cap. He’s leaning against the bar, his expression unreadable, yet there’s something about him... something dark, something intriguing.

You quickly look away when Thor hands you a shot, grinning widely. “To a great night!” he declares. You, Wanda, and Thor clink glasses and down the shots, the burn spreading warmth through your veins. Laughter bubbles out of you, as Natasha joins and drags you to the dance floor, and soon you're lost in the music, swaying and spinning with the beat.

Little do you know, the two guys in the caps were watching you.

The blond one, Steve, nudges his friend with a knowing smirk. “See something you like?”

Bucky’s lips curl at the corner, his eyes never leaving you as you move effortlessly to the music. The lights catch on your skin, your smile lighting up your face in a way that sends a spark through him.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, his voice low and dark. “I do.”

The music pulses through your body, and you let yourself get lost in it, swaying and twirling under the flashing lights. Laughter spills from Wanda and Natasha as they dance beside you, their energy infectious.

But despite the music and the crowd, your thoughts drift back to those two guys.

Curiosity gets the better of you, and you glance back toward where you first saw them, only to find the spot empty.

Your brows furrow slightly. You could’ve sworn they were there...

Before you can finish the thought, some movement catches your eye. They're closer now. Much closer.

The dark-haired one with those piercing blue eyes stands near the edge of the dance floor, his gaze locked onto you like he’s been watching your every move. The blond one leans in to say something to him, but Bucky doesn’t react, his focus entirely on you.

You swallow hard, a strange mix of excitement and nerves fluttering in your chest.

And then it happens, gradually at first. The more you move, the closer they seem to get. Each beat of the music shortens the distance until, before you realize it, there’s a presence behind you.

A warmth at your back.

Your heart stumbles in your chest as you turn, and suddenly, he’s there. The dark-haired stranger stands close, almost too close. The sharp angles of his jawline, the way his eyes pierce right through you, leave you momentarily speechless. Up close, he’s even more devastatingly handsome, and your brain screams at you to keep it together.

He offers you a small, almost sly smile and reaches out, taking your hand in his. His grip is firm but gentle, sending an unexpected thrill down your spine.

“I'm Bucky.” he says, his voice deep and smooth, laced with something that makes your breath hitch.

You blink, trying to ground yourself, “Y/n…” you manage, feeling warmth rise to your cheeks as you force yourself to meet his intense gaze.

The moment lingers, and with a shy smile, you turn back to Wanda and Natasha, hoping to gather your scattered thoughts. They’re both watching with matching grins, their expressions practically screaming “we saw that.” Your cheeks heat further, and you shake your head, laughing nervously.

It isn’t until you try to raise both hands to gesture at them that you realize something.

Bucky was still holding your hand.

Your eyes flick down in surprise, and when you look back up, there’s an unmistakable glint of amusement in his gaze. He gives your hand a light squeeze, as if testing whether you'll pull away.

You don’t.

Bucky tugs lightly at your hand, a silent invitation to follow him. Just as your feet begin to move, a familiar voice cuts through the music.

“Whoa, whoa, where do you think you're going?”

You turn to find Thor standing there, arms crossed and an amused yet protective look on his face. His gaze flickers to Bucky, sizing him up with that big-brother energy you’ve grown used to.

“Just to the bar.” Bucky says smoothly, but there's an edge to it, like he's not used to being questioned.

You introduce Bucky and Thor to each other.

Thor’s eyes narrow slightly, looking at Bucky, before turning to you. “Stay where I can see you, yeah?” His voice is light, but you know he’s serious.

You roll your eyes with a playful smile. “Yes, Dad!”

Satisfied, Thor gives Bucky one last look before heading back to Wanda and Natasha, who are too busy dancing and whispering to each other to notice much.

You finally let Bucky lead you through the crowd, feeling the warmth of his grip as he weaves effortlessly through the pulsing bodies. The bar is busy, but he navigates it like he’s been here a hundred times before.

“This is Steve…” Bucky says, nodding toward the blond guy in the cap you noticed earlier.

Steve offers a friendly smile, his blue eyes warm. “Nice to meet you.” he says, tipping his drink slightly in greeting.

“You too…” you reply, offering a small smile.

Bucky leans in a little closer, his voice low against your ear. “What’ll you have?”

You wave him off, feeling a little awkward under his gaze. “Oh, I’m good.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with your answer. “C’mon, something.”

You glance around nervously, then mumble, “Uh… orange juice?”

The moment the words leave your mouth, you regret it. Your brain practically screams at you, “Who on earth orders orange juice in a nightclub?”

Steve stifles a laugh behind his drink, and Bucky just smirks, his eyes glinting with something you can’t quite place. “Orange juice, huh?” he muses, signaling the bartender. “Classy.”

You groan, covering your face for a second, “I panicked, okay?”

Bucky chuckles, leaning a little closer, “Don’t worry, doll. I like classy.”

Your heart does an embarrassing little flip at the nickname, and before you can come up with a response, he hands you the drink. The way his fingers brush yours sends a spark of warmth up your arm.

Before you can sip, Bucky’s hand returns to yours, leading you further away from the crowded bar area. You find yourself in a quieter corner of the club, where some people are lounging, some are smoking, and the music feels a little more distant.

Your nerves kick in again, but Bucky’s presence is oddly steadying. His gaze never leaves you, like he’s figuring you out piece by piece.

“So,” he says, leaning against the wall, “what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?”

You take a tiny sip of your orange juice, trying not to cringe. “Apparently... making excellent drink choices.”

Bucky laughs, and you realize then how soft his smile can be despite the dark edge lingering beneath it.

You glance around the dimly lit corner of the club, your fingers tracing the cold glass of your orange juice. The air here feels heavier, laced with smoke and whispers of conversations that don’t quite reach you. Bucky stands close, his eyes never leaving your face as if he’s studying every flicker of emotion.

“Do you smoke?” he asks suddenly, his voice low and rough, cutting through the haze around you.

You shake your head, offering him a small smile. “No, not really my thing.”

He nods, then tilts his head. “Mind if I do?”

You glance at him, the way he stands with such quiet confidence, and shrug. “I don’t mind.”

With a smirk, he pulls out a cigarette and lights it with practiced ease, taking a slow drag before exhaling the smoke in a way that somehow makes your heart stumble. The glow of the cigarette highlights the sharpness of his features, casting shadows across his jaw.

You find yourself mesmerized…again.

And then, in that same soft, dangerous voice, he says it.

“You’re my girl now,” he murmurs, his eyes cutting through the smoke to meet yours. “If anyone comes near you... I’ll fucking kill them!”

Your breath catches, and for a split second, your mind flashes to your ex. He never said anything like that to you. Not once. Your brain screams at you to stop thinking about him, to stay in the present, but it’s too late. The comparison lingers.

You shake it off, letting out a soft laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “Is that so?” you tease, tilting your head. “Then prove it.”

Bucky’s lips curve in a way that makes something tighten in your chest. Without another word, he takes your hand, still warm from before and leads you back toward the bar. The music grows louder again, pulsing around you like a heartbeat, and just as you start to feel the weight of his words settle in, Thor intercepts you.

“Alright, sweets” Thor grins, grabbing your hand before Bucky can react. “Time to dance.”

You throw a quick glance over your shoulder at Bucky, but Thor’s already twirling you into the crowd. Wanda and Natasha cheer, and soon you're moving with them, laughing and letting the music wash over you.

But it doesn’t last long.

Before you know it, a familiar grip wraps around your wrist, not gentle this time. Firm, almost painfully tight. Bucky. He doesn’t say anything as he pulls you away, but the intensity in his hold is enough to make your heart race for a different reason. He’s not asking. He’s taking.

You barely manage to throw Wanda a glance before you’re dragged through the crowd again, your feet struggling to keep up with his pace. The air between you thickens, and it finally hits you. You’re not just his girl now.

Bucky Barnes is possessive about his girl.

Your skin tingles under his touch, and for the first time tonight, a little voice in the back of your mind wonders just how deep that possessiveness runs.

You don’t notice the way Steve watches from the sidelines, a slow smirk tugging at his lips, as if he knows exactly what’s going on inside Bucky’s head. As if he’s seen it all before.

Bucky’s grip on your hand loosens as he finally stops, and when you look up at him, expecting to see the same intense expression from moments ago, you’re met with something entirely different.

A soft smile.

It’s disarming, almost as if the possessiveness he showed just seconds ago never happened. His blue eyes are calm now, gentle even, and it throws you off balance. You’re not sure how to react. Should you call him out? Ask what that was about? Or just... let it go?

Your heart is still racing from how easily he dragged you away, but before you can decide what to say, Steve steps closer, and Bucky turns his attention to him. Their conversation is low, their words blending into the pulsing music, and for a moment, you’re left standing there, trying to process everything.

Meanwhile, back at the dancefloor, Thor is anything but calm.

“I don’t like it,” he says, eyes narrowing as he watches you with Bucky from across the room. “I don’t trust his intentions.”

Natasha, ever the observant one, nods in agreement. “Did you see how he pulled her away? That wasn’t... normal.”

Wanda, though quieter, presses her lips together in concern. “Y/n didn’t seem to mind too much, though.”

Thor lets out a frustrated sigh. “That’s the problem. Guys like him? They have a way of making it feel like it’s okay... until it’s not.”

Natasha’s eyes darken slightly, and she exchanges a knowing glance with Wanda. “We need to step in before this goes any further.”

Wanda nods. “I have an idea.”

Before long, Natasha and Wanda are weaving through the crowd toward you. You’re still standing with Bucky and Steve when they reach you, their smiles bright but calculated.

“We’re just gonna steal her for a sec!” Natasha says smoothly, looping an arm around yours before Bucky can protest.

Bucky’s jaw twitches slightly, but he nods, letting them take you. “Don’t take too long.”

You let them pull you away toward the restrooms, barely registering the way Bucky’s gaze lingers on you as you disappear into the crowd.

Inside, Natasha closes the door behind you, and Wanda immediately turns to you, her eyes full of concern. “Alright, spill. Are you okay?”

You blink, caught off guard. “Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Natasha raises an eyebrow. “Sweetheart, he dragged you off the dancefloor!”

You let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of your neck. “Okay, yeah, that was... intense. But he’s…I don’t know, it’s weird. He’s intense but then... soft?” You groan, pacing a little. “And I’m not even drunk, so I can’t blame it on that, but part of me just... wants to be around him.”

Wanda’s eyes soften. “You sure it’s not just the mystery?”

You sigh, leaning against the counter. “Maybe? I don’t know. But I’m fine. Really.”

Natasha exchanges a look with Wanda, not entirely convinced. “Just... be careful, alright?”

Meanwhile, outside the restroom, Steve watches as Bucky takes another slow drag of his cigarette, his eyes fixed on the door you disappeared through.

Steve sighs. “Buck, you gotta calm down.”

Bucky doesn’t answer immediately. He exhales smoke slowly, his eyes still on the door. “She’s mine.”

Steve shakes his head, crossing his arms. “You barely know her.”

Bucky finally looks at him, and for a brief moment, there’s something dark in his expression. “I know enough.”

Steve watches Bucky carefully, noting the way his jaw tenses as he stares at the restroom door. The silence between them stretches until Steve finally breaks it.

“What’s going on in that head of yours, Buck?” he asks, his voice low but firm. “What’s the plan here?”

Bucky flicks the ashes from his cigarette, his lips pressing into a thin line. “She’s mine.” he says simply, as if that alone explains everything.

Steve raises an eyebrow. “And?”

Bucky’s eyes remain fixed on the restroom door, his expression unreadable. “I’m not gonna rush it. She’ll come to me.”

Steve lets out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “And if she doesn’t?”

A smirk tugs at the corner of Bucky’s lips. “She will.” His voice is full of quiet certainty. “We wait. We watch.”

Before Steve can respond, the restroom door swings open, and you step out with Wanda and Natasha. You look more composed now, but your eyes instinctively search for Bucky. When you find him leaning against the wall, his gaze unreadable, something inside you twists unexpectedly.

Before you can take a step in his direction, Thor is suddenly at your side. “C’mon, sweets…” he says, slinging an arm around your shoulder and leading you straight back to the dance floor. His grip is firm but not overbearing, a silent reminder that he’s keeping you close. Wanda and Natasha follow, shooting Bucky a subtle glance.

Bucky watches, his expression darkening as Thor keeps you firmly within the group, away from him. His fingers tighten around his cigarette before he flicks it to the ground and grinds it under his boot. He doesn’t take his eyes off you, but he makes no move to come closer. Instead, he leans back against the wall, arms crossed, his attention shifting to Steve.

“What’s the plan now?” Steve asks, watching Bucky carefully.

Bucky’s lips curl into a slow, almost dangerous smirk. “Wait and watch.”

Steve nods knowingly. “You’re playing the long game, huh?”

Bucky’s eyes follow you as you laugh at something Thor says, but there’s a flicker of something in your expression, something almost hesitant. “She’ll come to me,” Bucky murmurs, as if it’s inevitable. “She’ll start missing me soon enough.”

And maybe he’s right. Because as you dance with your friends, trying to enjoy yourself, you can’t help but steal glances in his direction. Every time you do, he’s already looking away, ignoring you as if you don’t exist.

And for some reason, that stings.

You know you shouldn’t feel this way. Thor and the others are just looking out for you, making sure you’re safe. But there’s something about Bucky’s sudden coldness that unsettles you. You can’t explain it, but a small part of you feels... bad.

Kindness.

It’s one of your biggest weaknesses. Your friends adore that about you, but they also know it makes you vulnerable. People can take advantage of it.

And as much as you try to shake it off, that little voice in your head wonders if Bucky is counting on that very thing.

You sway half-heartedly to the music, but your mind isn't on the beat or the flashing lights. Your eyes keep drifting to where Bucky and Steve are standing, and every time you see Bucky deliberately looking away, something inside you twists.

Natasha nudges you gently. “Sweets, stop.”

You blink, pulling your gaze away. “Stop what?”

“Being you!” Wanda chimes in with a teasing yet serious look. “You’re too kind. You always feel bad when you shouldn’t.”

Natasha nods in agreement, crossing her arms. “Kindness is great, but not when it keeps you up at night worrying about people who don’t deserve it.”

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I can’t just switch it off, Nat.”

Natasha rolls her eyes but smiles knowingly. “Yeah, yeah, we know. Doesn’t mean we won’t try.”

They both mean well, and you know they’re right. But it’s easier said than done. Your kindness is part of who you are, for better or worse. And right now, it’s gnawing at you, making it impossible to focus on anything else.

Meanwhile, across the club, Steve watches you carefully before turning to Bucky. “She’s getting restless,” he says, sipping his drink. “You counting on that?”

Bucky smirks, tapping his fingers against the table. “Of course, I am.”

Steve exhales slowly, leaning in slightly. “Why her, Buck? There’s plenty of girls here tonight. Hell, there have been plenty of girls before her. What makes this one different?”

Bucky's smirk deepens, his eyes flickering with something unreadable. “She’s not like them,” he says simply. “She’s got... a softness. But not weak. She’s got fight in her too.” He pauses, his gaze locking onto you from across the room for the briefest moment before he looks away again. “And she doesn’t even realize it.”

Steve shakes his head with a knowing chuckle. “You’re obsessed.”

Bucky’s smirk fades slightly, replaced by something more dangerous. “I don’t do half-measures, Steve.”

Steve leans back, watching Bucky with careful eyes. “Yeah... I know.”

Back on the dancefloor, Thor notices the way you keep sneaking glances in Bucky’s direction, the way your shoulders sag with indecision. With a heavy sigh, he leans down, his voice gentle but firm.

“Alright, doll,” he says, using the nickname Bucky had claimed as his own. “Go.”

You blink up at him in surprise. “What?”

Thor gives you a knowing look. “Go back to him. But stay where I can see you.”

A wave of relief washes over you, and you can’t help but smile. “Thanks, Thor.”

He ruffles your hair playfully. “Just don’t make me regret it, yeah?”

With a nod, you turn and make your way back toward Bucky and Steve, your heart pounding with anticipation. You don’t notice the way Bucky’s lips twitch as he watches you approach, like he knew this moment was inevitable.

Steve watches you approach with a knowing smile, nudging Bucky slightly with his elbow. “Told you…” he mutters, amusement dancing in his voice.

Bucky doesn’t respond. Instead, he leans against the bar, his expression unreadable as you finally reach him.

You stand there for a moment, waiting for him to say something, anything. But he doesn’t. He doesn't even look at you.

“Hey…” you say softly, but he doesn’t react.

You clear your throat and try again, a little louder this time. “Bucky?”

Still nothing.

Frustration bubbles up inside you, but you push it down, giving it one last shot. “Are you seriously going to ignore me all night?”

Silence.

Something sharp twists in your chest, and with a sigh, you take a step back. “Fine,” you say, your voice steady despite the sting of disappointment. “If you don’t want me here, I’ll go. I’ll leave you alone, just like you want.”

Before you can turn away, his hand shoots out, wrapping around your wrist. The grip is firm but not rough but possessive, in a way that sends a shiver down your spine.

“I don’t like being ignored.” he says, his voice low and dark, his blue eyes locking onto yours.

Your breath catches in your throat. “I wasn’t ignoring you…” you murmur, suddenly feeling the heat of his touch.

His lips twitch into something that’s almost a smirk. “Apologize.”

You blink up at him, your heart racing. “I…what?”

“Apologize,” he repeats, his thumb brushing lightly against your wrist.

You roll your eyes, but there’s no real bite to it. “Fine. Sorry, Bucky.”

Satisfied, he tugs you closer and starts leading you toward the dancefloor. You don’t resist, letting him pull you into the crowd. The music pulses around you, and before you can fully register what’s happening, his hands find your waist, drawing you flush against him.

There’s no space. None. His body is pressed firmly against yours, and your heart pounds wildly in your chest. The heat between you both is undeniable, and your mind is racing, screaming at you to think straight, but it’s impossible with him this close.

“Relax…” Bucky murmurs near your ear, his breath warm against your skin.

You try, but it’s impossible. His hands grip your hips, guiding you in sync with his movements, slow and deliberate. Your skin tingles under his touch, and every time your body brushes against his, your pulse spikes.

After a few moments, he leans down, his lips ghosting over your ear. “I wanna do something for you.”

You swallow hard, shaking your head slightly. “Bucky, there’s no need for that.”

He grins, and the playful banter begins. “I didn’t ask if there was a need.”

“Seriously, it’s fine.”

“Let me.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

And then, without warning, he silences you the only way he knows how.

His lips crash against yours, stealing your breath and every coherent thought in your head. The kiss is firm, confident, and leaves no room for argument. Your hands instinctively find his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

When he finally pulls away, his blue eyes flicker with mischief, and he winks at you. “Told you I’d do something for you.”

You’re left standing there, breathless and stunned, as the music pulses around you, but all you can focus on is him…just him.

Bucky leads you through the crowd, weaving past dancing bodies and flashing lights until you reach a secluded corner of the club. The music is quieter here, the atmosphere darker, more intimate. You stand close, the space between you charged with something you can't quite name.

For a while, neither of you say anything. You shift awkwardly under his intense gaze, biting your lip as you wait for him to speak first. Eventually, he does.

“I like you.”

The words are so simple, so unexpected, that they make you laugh. “Really?” you tease, arching an eyebrow. “Just like that?”

Instead of answering, Bucky takes a step back and, to your horror, cups his hands around his mouth and shouts, “I like her!”

Heads turn, eyes land on you both, and you feel heat rush to your cheeks as you frantically reach for him. “Bucky! Shut up!” You hiss, tugging at his arm.

He grins, utterly unapologetic, and takes it a step further. “I REALLY LIKE HER!!!!”

You slap a hand over his mouth, eyes wide in mortification. “Okay! Okay, I believe you! Just be quiet, you goof.”

Bucky chuckles against your palm, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Slowly, you lower your hand, and before you can say another word, he kisses you again.

This time, it's slower, deeper, less about teasing and more about something real. Your hands instinctively find their way to his chest, your palm resting over his heart. You can feel the steady, strong rhythm beneath your touch, and it does something to you. A soft sigh escapes you, and Bucky’s lips curve into a smile against yours.

When he finally pulls back, he presses his forehead against yours. “Come with me…” he murmurs, his fingers brushing against your waist.

Your heart skips a beat, but reality crashes in just as quickly. “I can’t…” you whisper, shaking your head. “I came here with my friends. Thor won’t let me just disappear.”

Bucky’s jaw tightens, and for a split second, there’s something dangerous flickering behind his eyes. “I don’t take no for an answer, doll.”

Before you can protest, his lips are on yours again, stealing your breath, your words, your logic. You feel his arm tighten around your waist, holding you close, keeping you in his orbit.

What you don’t see is the way he locks eyes with Steve over your shoulder. There’s a silent exchange, a plan forming without words. Steve nods subtly, a smirk tugging at his lips as if he knows exactly what Bucky is thinking.

You’re too lost in the kiss to notice.

You try to pull away, your hands pressing lightly against Bucky’s chest, but he doesn’t let you go. Instead, he tilts his head, a playful yet dangerous glint in his blue eyes. “You think I’m stupid, don’t you?” he says, his voice low and laced with something that makes your stomach twist.

Your eyes widen in surprise. “What? No, of course not!”

Bucky hums, unconvinced, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your waist. “Then why won’t you come with me? You think I can’t take care of you?”

The guilt hits you like a truck, and you immediately shake your head, your voice softer now. “Bucky, that’s not it at all. It’s just… my friends. Thor won’t let me go that easily, and I don’t want to worry them.”

Bucky stares at you for a beat, then his lips curl into a smile, his hands sliding up to cup your face. He leans in, his forehead resting against yours, and makes a face, his eyes wide, mouth open like he’s about to devour you whole.

You burst into laughter, swatting at his chest. “Stop that, you’re ridiculous!”

He grins, his thumbs gently stroking your cheeks. “But you love it,” he teases.

Your laughter fades into a soft smile, and for a moment, you forget everything else. But what you don’t see is the way Bucky’s eyes flick over your shoulder, locking onto Steve.

Behind your back, Steve nods, the plan silently set into motion.

And just like that, you’re already one step closer to exactly where Bucky wants you.

Just as you’re starting to relax in Bucky’s hold, a familiar voice cuts through the moment.

“There you are!” Wanda’s voice is laced with amusement and just a hint of suspicion. She strides over, her eyes flickering between you and Bucky with a knowing smirk. “Come on, we’re not letting you disappear just yet.”

You sigh, reluctantly stepping back, but Bucky doesn’t let you go so easily. His hand stays wrapped around your wrist, and he tilts his head at you with a playful pout. “You really think I’m stupid, don’t you?”

You blink in confusion. “What?”

He leans in, voice dripping with faux hurt. “That’s why you’re not coming with me. You think I’m some idiot who can’t handle Thor.”

Wanda laughs, crossing her arms. “It’s not about you, Barnes. Thor’s just… let’s say, protective about his friends.” She glances at you. “Right, dear?”

You nod quickly, grateful for Wanda’s backup. “Exactly. I don’t want to cause drama.”

Bucky smirks, but there’s something sharp beneath it, something calculating. “Drama? Doll, I’m all about drama.”

You roll your eyes, about to respond when Wanda grabs your hand. “Come on, let’s go.”

Just as you turn to leave, something shifts in the air. Steve, who had been lingering nearby, subtly moves into position, blocking Thor and Natasha’s view of you both. The timing is perfect.

Bucky doesn’t let go of your wrist. Instead, he pulls you back suddenly, spinning you right into him. “Not so fast…” he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear.

Your heart stutters in your chest, but before you can process what’s happening, Steve casually bumps into Wanda with a distracted, “Sorry, miss.” causing her to stumble and momentarily break her grip on your hand.

In that split second of distraction, Bucky tugs you further into the crowd, his grip firm but playful, as if daring you to resist.

“Bucky…” you start, but his grin is all you get in response.

Steve watches from a distance, arms crossed and an amused look on his face. The plan was working.

And deep down, despite the warnings ringing in your head, you don’t really want to stop him.

“Bucky, what are you doing?” you whisper, breathless as he pulls you deeper into the crowd. The flashing lights dance across his face, highlighting the mischief in his blue eyes.

Instead of answering, he leans in and kisses you. Soft at first, teasing, before deepening it with a possessive edge that makes your knees weak. Your hands instinctively grip his shoulders to steady yourself, but your mind is screaming at you to get back to Wanda and Thor.

When he finally pulls away, his lips brush against yours as he murmurs, “Still wanna leave?”

You swallow hard, forcing yourself to regain control. “I have to go…” you insist, your voice lacking the conviction you wish it had. “Wanda and Thor are looking for me.”

Bucky’s grip tightens just slightly, his fingers tracing over your wrist. “Stay.” he says simply, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

You shake your head, trying to find your footing in this whirlwind. “Bucky, I can’t just…”

He tilts his head, watching you closely, and then with that signature smirk, he says, “Just for a little while. We’ll stay in the club, I promise.”

Your resolve wavers, the intensity in his gaze making it impossible to think straight. After a moment, you sigh in defeat. “Fine. Only in the club.”

Bucky’s lips twitch in victory. “Good girl.”

But what you don’t realize is that Bucky’s promise means nothing, not when he’s already made up his mind. While you’re distracted, his eyes flick over your shoulder to where Steve stands near the bar. A single nod passes between them, silent and calculated.

You may think you’re staying, but Bucky has other plans.

Just as you begin to relax in Bucky’s presence, the music pounding in your chest like a second heartbeat, a familiar voice cuts through the haze.

“There you are,” Thor’s deep voice rumbles from behind you. His expression is firm but not unkind as he reaches for your arm. “It’s time to go home, Sweets.”

You glance up at Bucky, feeling the tension in the air shift. For a second, you consider arguing, just a little, but something about the way Thor is looking at you makes you nod instead. “Alright, you say softly.

Bucky’s jaw tenses, but he doesn’t stop you. Not yet.

Just as you turn to follow Thor, Bucky appears at your side, holding out two glasses. “One for the road?” he offers, his voice smooth, his smile disarming. He hands one glass to Thor and one to you.

Thor eyes Bucky suspiciously before taking a sip. You hesitate for a moment, but under Bucky’s expectant gaze, you take a small sip too.

Before you know it, Bucky has his hand on your lower back, steering you gently away from the dancefloor. “C’mon, just for a second,” he says, his voice low and persuasive. “One last moment before you run off.”

You follow him, oblivious to the subtle exchange of glances between him and Steve.

The club lights flash around you, and you’re too caught up in the conversation to notice Thor’s steps faltering behind you. Steve quietly steps in, keeping Thor distracted just long enough for Bucky to guide you further away.

It isn’t until you reach the quieter edge of the club, near the exit, that you realize something is off.

“Bucky,” you say, blinking as you look around. “Where are we going?”

Bucky smirks, his hand firm around yours. “Told you, doll. I don’t take no for an answer.”

Panic rises in your chest, and you yank your hand away, taking a step back. “I have to go back to my friends.”

Bucky doesn’t let you get far. He grabs your wrist again, his grip just tight enough to make your heart race for an entirely different reason. “Apologize,” he says, his voice lower now, laced with something darker. “For trying to leave me.”

Your pulse hammers in your ears, and suddenly, the warmth in his eyes seems a little more dangerous. “Bucky…” you whisper, trying to pull free, but he refuses to let go.

Behind you, Steve stands with his arms crossed, his smirk never fading. He knows exactly how this will play out.

Your heart pounds as you take a step back from Bucky, trying to create some distance, but you don't get far. Your back collides with something solid, someone solid.

Steve.

His arms snake around your waist, holding you firmly against him. You freeze as he rests his chin lightly on top of your head, his breath fanning over your hair. The casual intimacy of the gesture makes your stomach twist, and you can feel the smug satisfaction radiating off him.

Bucky watches the scene unfold with a lazy smile, his eyes dark with amusement. “Relax, doll,” he murmurs, stepping closer. “I already told you, you’re my girl now.”

You shake your head, your voice shaky but firm. “Bucky, you promised. You said we’d stay in the club.”

Bucky’s grin widens, his fingers reaching out to brush against your cheek. “Yeah, well... there’s been a slight change in the promise.”

You stiffen, your mind racing. Steve's arms tighten subtly, his hold secure but not forceful. Yet.

It’s clear he’s enjoying this, the way his body presses against yours, his voice a low murmur in your ear. “You’re way too tense,” he says with a chuckle. “Loosen up, doll.”

You swallow hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “Thor will come looking for me...”

Bucky’s expression softens into something almost pitying. “Thor?” He tilts his head. “Sweetheart, he won’t be coming for you.”

Your brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

Steve chuckles from behind you, his grip tightening just slightly as if to keep you in place. “Let’s just say... he’s taking a nap.”

Your stomach drops. “What did you do?”

Bucky waves a dismissive hand. “Nothing too bad, doll. He’s fine. Just a little... distracted.” His smirk deepens. “That means it’s just us now.”

Your pulse races as realization sinks in. They had planned this from the beginning.

Steve finally releases you, only to grab your hand with a firm grip, and Bucky takes your other hand, his thumb stroking over your skin in a way that feels both soothing and possessive. Together, they lead you toward the exit.

You glance back over your shoulder, searching for a way out, for Wanda, Natasha, anyone, but the crowd of strangers swallows the dancefloor whole, and just like that, you’re outside.

Under the cool night air, Bucky leans in, his lips grazing your ear. “Told you, doll. No one’s taking you from me. You are my girl now!”

Taglist- @imyourbratzdoll @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @ilovetaquitosmmmm

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@bucks-babe @lolzies123r @kandis-mom @purplecolordeer @avioletkurt

@pattiemac1 @lovely-geek @hzdhrtss @kpopgirlbtssvt

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evansbby · 2 months ago

Text

𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒎𝒚 𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: mean jock!Steve Rogers x naive!reader

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: 18+, minors dni, dark, noncon, dubcon, daddy kink, dry humping, thigh riding, fingering, controlling behaviour, cum play, jacking off, lingerie kink, dom/sub dynamic, frat party setting, asshole fratboys, ari levinson mentioned lmao.

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: you run into steve at another frat party. this time, it's in his territory. (alternate continuation of chapter two of wicked games, but this has ZERO impact on the wicked games story. again, this does not affect the plot of the original wicked games timeline, it's just a fun little detour, a completely separate story if you will. you can read this without having read wicked games).

“Can we leave? I’m not really in a party mood,” you frown, tugging at the hem of your dress and regretting how short it is. It’s deep purple and form fitted, with a hemline that sits right below your butt. You’d thought the sexiness of it would help you get more into the spirit of things since Wanda had insisted on dragging you here tonight, but clearly that hadn’t worked.

“Don’t do this right now, Y/N. We need to be seen at these events if we want to be popular.” Wanda smiles and waves into the distance as if she’s recognised a friend. Despite the fact that this is a St. Jude’s party and you know as well as she does that everyone here is a complete stranger to the both of you.

You wrinkle your nose, “Well, I don’t really care about being popular–”

“Of course you do. Everyone does.” Wanda’s eyes dart around the very crowded, dimly lit basement of the frat house as if looking for someone.

“But we don’t know anyone at St. Jude’s!” You tug at your dress again, feeling more insecure than ever.

Tonight was originally planned to be a girl’s night – and you’d already picked out a movie, laid out the facemasks and bowls of popcorn, and pulled on your comfiest pyjamas only for Wanda to show up to your dorm in a slink black dress and strappy heels, telling you there was a frat party at the rival college that the two of you just couldn’t miss, and that she was giving you fifteen minutes to get ready.

“Yeah, but this morning I overheard some cheerleaders, and they said Curtis might be here.”

Oh. Of course. Now it all made sense. Ever since the night of the last frat party the two of you had been to, the one where Wanda had slept with Curtis Everett… Well, ever since then she’d become a teensy bit obsessed with him. And that was also the same frat party where you and…

“Wanda! If Curtis is here then Ari will be here too! I don’t wanna see him!”

Your best friend rolls her eyes, “Relax. I also heard the cheerleaders say that Ari went back home for the weekend. Sharon Carter was all upset about it, because apparently he didn’t even bother inviting her and she hasn’t met his parents yet. But anyways, keep an eye out for Curtis, would you?”

“Okay…” Begrudgingly, you scan the room. A part of you is happy that Ari is out of town, because it makes it easier not to think about him, knowing he’s miles and miles away. Out of sight, out of mind - that was going to be your motto when it came to him moving forward.

“Looking for someone?”

The deep voice feels like velvet against your ear, and you inhale sharply at the familiarity of it. Your whole body starts to buzz when you feel a warm hand press against the small of your back, the stranger’s touch brimming with confidence as he easily turns you around.

You’re faced with a chest. A big, muscly, expansive chest covered in a grey shirt that’s deliciously tight against it. Slowly, you peek up at his face. Blue eyes. Cocky smile. Handsome. Angelic.

“Steve!” you breathe, relaxing at the familiar face, “You’re here!”

He chuckles, casually grabbing your hip and squeezing it, “Well, considering this is my frat house, it would be weird if I wasn’t.”

Your eyes widen, “It is?”

“Yep. Thanks for coming over, sweetheart. I had a feeling I hadn’t seen the last of you after that party.” He winks. And you have to admit - he looks good. All six foot six inches of him, looming above you with that charming smile on his face, that smile being one of the only things you remember from the night you’d last seen him, where he’d been such a gentleman and dropped you home after everything that had happened with Ari.

He’s got a backwards baseball cap on his head, but tufts of his blonde hair peek out from underneath, and his blue eyes sparkle as he watches you, as if he knows you’re checking him out. And unabashedly, he does the same, his pink tongue licking over his lips as he drinks in your body, his hold on your hip tightening.

“I…uh… yeah,” you feel self-conscious, tongue-tied after the embarrassingly long amount of time you’ve just spent checking him out. “Thanks for giving me a lift home, by the way. I was super drunk.”

He nods, the glint still in his eye, “I should be the one thanking you for that cab ride.”

You blink, “Thanking me? Why?”

For a moment, he just stares at you. And oh, he’s so intense! That’s another thing you remember about him. How his eyes felt like they were boring holes into your very soul.

Finally, he smiles. “Don’t mention it, sweetheart. You looked so cute and helpless, I knew I had to step in.”

“Hey! I wasn’t completely helpless…”

He laughs, “A damsel in distress if I’d ever seen one, and…” he pauses, bringing his thumb up to stroke your lip. Oh, he was so forward too! Considering you’d only ever met him once before and there’d been nothing sexual between the two of you. “Do you remember what I told you that night?”

You shake your head, half in a trance by how he’s just touching you so openly. Except you don’t really want him to stop.

“I told you that if you were my girl, you wouldn’t be allowed to step foot inside a party like that one. Or this one, for that matter.”

You purse your lips, “Fine. I’ll leave then.”

Steve chuckles, encircling both his arms around you as if he owns you, “Too late. I’m not letting you go for the rest of the night.”

“B-But I’m here with Wanda…”

“Who’s that?”

“My best friend. She brought me here, and–”

“Doesn’t matter. This is my house and you’re here with me now. Okay, baby?”

He strokes your cheek and says it so sweetly, that the controlling nature of his request doesn’t even sink in for you. No, you’re way too distracted by the unabashed hunger in his eyes, the confidence in his smile as he yanks you closer, till your chest is pressed up against his, and an embarrassing squeak escapes your lips.

“I…uh… Steve, I…”

“Say okay,” he commands you, “you don’t have to think so hard when you’re with me, sweet girl. I promise I’ll take care of you just like how I did last time.”

“Uh… I… o-okay…I ju–”

He smirks, “Cute little tongue-tied baby. C’mon, let’s go to my room.”

At that moment, Wanda reappears, a mildly annoyed look on her face.

“Y/N, didn’t I tell you to keep an eye out for Curtis? What do you think you’re doing–?”

She stops short, her eyes widening when she sees you’re not alone.

“Wanda, this is the guy I met the other night–”

“–Steve Rogers,” Wanda cuts you off, beaming up at him, “What are you doing with Y/N?”

Steve blinks, “Why would I not be with Y/N?”

She looks you up and down, and if you didn’t know any better, you could’ve sworn her eyes flash and narrow, “Uh, you know she’s with Ari Levinson, right?”

Your jaw drops - why would she say that? She knew you’d vowed never to speak to Ari again!

But Steve looks completely unperturbed, and he lazily throws his arm over your shoulders, yanking you into his hard chest. And you know it’s a display of ownership - he’s been doing it the moment he saw you tonight after all. And it should bother you, but it doesn’t! Oh, it doesn’t, it doesn’t, it doesn’t!

“You know what, Wilma? I think I saw Curtis outside by the pool.” He flashes her that charming smile that you thought was only reserved for you.

Your best friend’s eyes widen, “Really?”

“Yeah. He’s definitely there.”

“Thanks, Steve!” She sidles up closer to him, accidentally bumping you out of the way – well, you hope it’s accidental. She strokes his chest, her manicured nails scraping against his shirt, “Would you show me where the pool is please? This place is so big, I couldn’t possibly find it on my own.”

A sudden fire ignites inside you, burning its way up to the surface of your body alongside this weird feeling of… well, you don’t really know. But you stand there, crossing your arms over your chest as you watch their interaction unfold in front of you.

But Steve remains by your side, “Up the stairs and outside the sliding glass door on your first right. You won’t miss it.”

“I’ll come with you, Wanda,” you try to shake off Steve’s heavy arm. You don’t really want to leave him, but it’s only right that you go with your best friend.

“Don’t bother, Y/N. I can see you’re busy.” And she’s off without another glance at you, but she makes sure to brush past Steve as she goes, despite the fact that there’s enough room for her to not have to do that.

Steve snickers, “That’s your best friend?”

“She’s drunk, I think. Usually she’s a lot friendlier…” your voice trails off as you watch her leave the basement in a hurry. “Is…uh… is Curtis really up there? By the pool?”

Steve smirks as he grabs your hand and tugs you to the stairs, “If that bald-headed fuck was anywhere near here, I’d personally kick him out myself. Now come on, let’s go somewhere a bit more private.”

Steve’s room is neater than you’d assume a basketball player’s room in a frat house to be. Not that you have anything to compare it to since Ari had never invited you into his room. But this one is muted, grey, minimalistic with some basketball memorabilia scattered around.

He’d wasted no time in getting you alone up there, practically half-carrying you through the crowd of people and up the stairs, his grip on you tight and confident. As if you’d been his girl all your life, as if it was a concrete fact that you belonged to him tonight. And it’s like your body was too entranced to even put up a fight to stop him.

Oh, what had you gotten yourself into?

“Good thing I got you out of there before things got too rowdy,” Steve shuts his bedroom door behind him, and you hear the unmistakable click of a lock. And you know you should feel more alarmed than you actually do - but it’s Steve! He wasn’t like Ari Levinson - he was nice! He could’ve taken advantage of you at that last frat party, but he hadn’t! The only person who’d taken advantage of you that night was Ari.

You could trust Steve.

“Do your parties usually get super rowdy?”

“For babies like you, yes.” Again, he unabashedly stares at your body, at your bare legs accentuated by your high heels, your tight dress that hugs your curves, the dip of your cleavage and the way it rises up and down as you breathe shallowly. “As I said before, I don’t want you down there. Not where they can all see you.”

You wrinkle your nose, “No one was looking at me. I’m from a different college, no one here even knows me.”

His muscular arms wrap around your waist with that same charming confidence, as if he’s known you way longer than he actually has. As if he knows you won’t pull away. How does he know that?

“You’re more innocent than I thought, baby girl.” To your shock, his hands press flat against your thighs before moving upwards, straight up under your dress to cup your bare ass cheeks. You gulp, yet remain rooted in place as he gently squeezes the soft flesh. “Skipping into a frat house looking so fucking sexy, and thinking no one’s gonna notice you?”

“Well, I didn’t skip…”

“You may as well have,” He presses his hard crotch against your front, and he’s so much bigger than you that you can feel his boner digging against your midriff, and it sends jolts straight down to your core. There was just something so hot about him being so big, you being so much smaller, him calling you innocent, him being so forward and unpredictable… It actually reminds you a bit of… NO. No, don’t think about him!

“And guess what?” Steve whispers in your ear as he gently walks you backwards to his bed.

“Wh-What?”

“I’ve rescued you from not one, but two parties now. You owe me.”

You squeak as he sits down at the edge of his bed and pulls you on top of him. Till you’re perched on his lap like a baby, your butt on his knee and your legs draped across his beefy thighs.

Steve smirks, “Comfy?”

“I think so,” your mind’s frazzled, and your body is buzzing with heat. When did it get so hot? Now, he’s pressing his lips against the nape of your neck, his hands rubbing up and down your body in a way that has you shaking on his lap. Oh, it was too much, it was–

“Look, you have another varsity jacket!” You blurt out, pointing at the familiar blue and white jacket draped over his desk chair. Exactly the same as the one he’d given you the night of the other party. “I still have to return the one you gave me.”

He tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear, “You keep it, baby girl. It looked cute on you.”

You duck your head, the compliment making you shy. Somehow, him calling you cute had a way bigger effect on you than him calling you hot, “Really?”

He pushes your chin up with his pointer finger, and it’s all these little touches that he’s administering so casually are getting you so hot and bothered, so worked up on the inside in a way that’s so unfamiliar to you. No one’s ever made you feel like this except for one other person…

He licks the shell of your ear, “Yes. I liked how big it was on you.”

“It wasn’t that big…”

He raises an eyebrow.

“Okay fine, it was pretty big. But that’s not my fault, you’re literally a giant!” You giggle when he runs his fingers up and down your arm. It’s ticklish but it also feels kind of good.

“You like that I’m so much bigger than you?” Nonchalantly, his finger dips down to hook the hem of your dress..

“Well, uh, I don’t not like it…”

“Answer properly.”

It’s crazy how casual he is, yet at the same time so quietly demanding, so dominating, so in control. How quickly he’s switching from charming and sweet to intensely serious. But it makes you want to do whatever he’s asking of you.

“Yes,” you squeak, too shy to look into his eyes except he has hold of your chin and is able to keep your gaze locked with his. “Yes, I like it.”

Steve relaxes, “Good girl.”

The compliment makes you feel nice, and you sit there in his lap basking in it for a while. You don’t even notice him hiking your dress up higher and higher, till he snaps the elastic band of your thong.

“Cute panties.”

“Hey!” Hastily, you push your dress back down, a part of you snapping out of whatever spell he’d cast on you since the moment he’d dragged you up here, and you shoot him your fiercest look. Which only serves to amuse him, the corner of his lip quirking up into a smile.

“Does the bra match?”

“You-You can’t just ask that!”

“I just did. Now answer.”

His brashness should get to you, but for some reason all it’s doing is getting you wet. He was being so inappropriate, and yet it’s like you’re being held prisoner by your own body, which seems to love how he’s touching and petting you right now. How he’s demanding you answer all his questions, how he’s essentially ordering you around.

“Actually, I have a better idea, baby girl. I think you should show me.” He twirls a piece of your hair around his finger, running his tongue over his lips. His skin is pale, but his cheeks are flushed a pretty pink. And oh, he’s so handsome! It makes you want to listen to whatever he says…

“Show you?”

“Yes. You’ll take your dress off and show me what you’ve got on underneath, won’t you?”

“I will?”

Steve smiles easily, smiles like he’s having the most normal conversation on Earth and you’ve just said something funny. “Of course you will. Because you like listening to me. It makes you feel all small and cute, having someone like me be in charge of you.”

Your jaw drops, and yet… Oh, why does him saying that make your core throb?! And you know you shouldn’t… but maybe it would be okay if you did what he asked just this once? After all, he just wanted to see if your underwear matched. There was nothing untoward about that, was there?

A part of you knows you’re being delusional, but you’re also pressing your thighs together subconsciously. As if just him talking like he’s so in charge is getting you so hot and bothered, so turned on. And a bigger part of you, the hornier part of you, can only focus on how big he is, how in control he is, how small you feel in his lap, like you’re his baby and he’s allowed to do whatever he wants with you, and you’ll just let him.

“Stand up,” Steve orders, “Let me see you properly.”

It’s comical how quickly you scramble to obey him. As if the you who’d arrived at this party feeling bored, irritated and out of place has been replaced by a girl controlled by lust and want, her body betraying her as Steve taps into your most submissive inner desires, and you can’t help but listen to him.

He nods in approval when you stand between his legs.

“Good. You’re so hot, baby girl.”

“I am?” You beam, despite the fact that you knew you looked good the moment you’d put this gorgeous purple dress on earlier tonight. Despite the time crunch Wanda had put you under, you’d still managed to look more than presentable. And now, a part of you wonders what Ari would think if he saw you—NO STOP THINKING ABOUT HIM. JUST STOP.

”Yes, you are. Now take your dress off.”

“B-But Steve…”

“Do it.”

Cheeks burning, yet pussy throbbing at the same time, you unzip your dress. Trying to make your breathing sound less laboured, you keep your eyes on his. Only because his gaze is so intense, and you’re afraid he’d object if you looked away.

The dress falls down to pool by your feet, and you stand in front of him in your lacy black set, with high heels to match. Steve inhales deeply, his Adam's apple bobbing as he looks you up and down. And oh, you feel so awkward yet at the same time so turned on when you see that dark look of lust in his eyes.

“Twirl. Slowly.” He grabs a bottle from the side of his bed, unscrewing it and taking a gulp. You catch a glimpse of the Grey Goose label, vaguely wondering why he has a bottle of vodka stored beside his bed, and how you didn’t know anyone to just drink it straight up like that - no mixers or anything.

You twirl for him, concentrating on not tripping in your heels. You haven’t had anything to drink tonight, and yet your movements feel sluggish out of nervousness. But you hear a low whistle behind you, before the feel of his large hand grabbing your ass and giving it a squeeze.

“Fuck, look at that cute little baby ass in those panties. Get back on my lap,” he growls. But before you can climb back on, he raises his hand to stop you, “Put my jacket on first.”

“Wh-What–”

He slaps your ass, pushing you in the direction of his desk chair with his varsity jacket draped over it. You gulp, slipping it on carefully. And it’s gigantic on you, the sleeves too long and the hem reaching down to mid-thigh. But Steve only licks his lips, beckoning you over once more.

“It’s a bit big,” you bite your lip.

Roughly, he yanks you back into his lap, catching your lips between his in a searing kiss. Kissing you like he’s obsessed with you, and your eyes widen as he deepens it, sinking his teeth against your bottom lip carnally. As if he wants to eat you up, and his hands are all over your body, slipping underneath his jacket to touch your bare skin.

“You’re so sexy, baby girl,” he breathes after he’s had his fill of kissing you. But even then, he pecks your lips between words, and you jolt in his lap when his thumb brushes against your erect nipple through the lace of your bra. He smirks against your mouth, “And you know it, don’t you?”

“No,” you lie, because the way he’s looking at you with such dark, almost carnivorous eyes… Oh, it makes you feel like the sexiest girl in the world!

“Of course you do. That’s why you wore this hot little lingerie set.” He snaps the strap of your bra against your skin and you yelp. “It looks so sexy on you, baby.”

“Thanks!” Most of the fancy lingerie you owned had been bought for you by Ari, but this was one you’d treated yourself with. Which was just as well, because there was something unspeakably awkward about sitting in the lap of one man wearing bra and panties bought by another man.

It was also funny how different Ari and Steve’s tastes were. Ari almost exclusively wanted you in pink or white sets, always something super girly and sweet and innocent. Steve seems to be the complete opposite, with how his eyes are glued to your black lingerie now.

Steve takes his baseball cap off, perching it backwards on your head. Another mark of his ownership, and yet your frazzled mind doesn’t have the capacity to think much into it.

He dips his head, licking a stripe down your cleavage. You gasp, automatically gripping a handful of his hair. He grabs your breasts, pushing them together against his face and nuzzling, licking and nipping as if he’s starved. Pushing the cups of your bra down, he latches on to your nipple, sucking on it roughly. You moan, and it eggs him on, he presses you forward, taking your whole breast in his mouth and sucking hard, covering it with his spit like he’s marking you as his property.

“Such pretty tits,” he mutters, flicking your nipple with his tongue, practically bullying it till it’s hard enough to cut glass, and you’re mewling because it’s so sensitive. But that only eggs him on, and he bites down on it like he’s starved. “Want me to fuck your tits, pretty girl?”

Your eyes widen, and he laughs devilishly. It was crazy how angelic he looked compared to how filthy he was being right now!

Again, he pushes your breasts together, licking down your cleavage like he’s obsessed, a wicked smile on is face when he finally comes up for air. “Every party I’ve seen you at, you’re always wearing some cute little dress that barely covers anything, like you’re some sort of goddamned tease. Tell me, baby. Are you gonna be a tease tonight?”

Meanly, he pinches your nipple, chuckling when you cry out. Your brain is too fried to answer his question properly, and so you just whimper.

Luckily, he doesn’t push it, doesn’t force an answer out of you like how he’s been doing all night. Perhaps too distracted by your chest, his head dips back down. His hands are ruthless, so big, rough and calloused from basketball. Squeezing your tits like they’re just toys to him, like your body is his to play with, and he knows exactly how to touch you, almost as if he’s done it before.

“S-Steve,” you feel lightheaded with pleasure, amped up at how carnal he’s being. How he’s not holding back at all, how he’s acting like he knows your body despite this being the first ever time the two of you have hooked up. How is he even doing that?

“Is that what you call me?” Steve comes up for air, flashing you a warning look before switching to your other breast, flicking your overly sensitive nipple with his tongue and making your breath hitch.

“Daddy,” you moan, finally letting go of any inhibitions you had left. You rut forward, rubbing your panty-covered crotch against his thigh. And oh, the denim of his jeans feels heavenly, and for a moment, you get a strong sense of dejavu that almost knocks you out of your lust-fuelled haze. Almost.

“That’s right, rub your little pussy against me. Don’t think I don’t notice what you’re doing. I noticed last time too.”

Huh? Last time?

“Fuck, didn’t expect you to fall into my lap again tonight, baby girl,” He kisses up your neck, holding his varsity jacket against you because it’s so big it’s slipping off. “Can’t believe you just showed up at my house looking like sex on legs with your cute little doe eyes in your tiny little dress. Did you really expect you were gonna walk out of here in one piece, baby?”

“I…uh…nngh!” You moan incoherently, hardly registering what he’s saying as his teeth clamp down on your neck, and he bites and sucks at the sensitive nape, making you squirm in his lap.

“You thought you could stumble into my party looking like a clueless little baby and not expect to end up in my bed?” He bounces you on his lap roughly, and you cry out in unexpected pleasure, the action sending thrills straight to your pussy. You rut against him in response, growing more desperate and delirious by the second.

“D-Didn’t know this was your house,” you pant, breathless from the way he’s kissing and fondling you, playing with your body like you’re just his toy and nothing more.

“Bullshit,” he breathes, “you wanted to see me again, didn’t you? After that night? You couldn’t forget, could you?”

“I–”

Your voice dies in your throat when Steve suddenly grabs your panties and yanks hard. They rip instantly, and you gape at the tattered lace in his hand. He brings it up to his nose, inhaling deeply.

“You smell like you want to get fucked,” he mutters, his voice deep and thick with lust, his eyes pitch black and intense as ever.

Sure enough, your panties are wet in his fist, and you can smell your own arousal on them even from a distance. Hell, you feel your wetness seeping down your bare thighs, staining his jeans and again you get a fleeting sense of dejavu, like this has happened before. And a hazy, dream-like memory flits through your mind, just for a moment before it’s gone, and you’re snapped back into the present.

Steve, without breaking eye contact for even a second, takes your panties into his mouth, sucking on them while you watch him with wide eyes. He grabs your hand, pressing it on his hard crotch. You squeak, it felt big and almost… alive under his jeans with how it was throbbing under your palm.

“So sweet, baby,” he breathes, “I missed out on tasting your little baby cunt last time. She tastes just as sweet as I imagined.”

Last time? You’ve barely wrapped your head around what he’s just said, but his face is so devastatingly handsome in that moment, so angelic and yet there’s a darkness in his eyes that cuts through it. Makes him look like an angel hell bent on playing his wicked game, and you’re more than happy to be his pawn.

“Steve–daddy, please. I need… I need–”

“Take daddy’s cock out,” he commands, his voice deep and guttural with raw lust. So gruff, so to the point, and it makes him even more attractive in your eyes. Powerful and in control. In charge of you. Using your body for his own pleasure. Fuck. You were so far gone down the haze of lust, there was really no coming back from here.

Steve takes your hand and pushes it past the waistband of his jeans, and presses it against his huge, hard cock. And oh fuck, it feels so fat and throbbing under your dainty palm, so big like it was capable of ripping you apart and you hadn’t even seen it yet. Just touching his hot, rock-hard flesh makes you rub your pussy against his thigh once more, pleasure jolting through your veins in anticipations.

You take it out, a low whimper escaping your throat because of how red and angry and big it looks. Oh fuck.

Steve pushes something into your hand, and it takes you a handful of seconds to register the lace of your black panties. Your pretty, tattered panties that he wraps around your hand before pressing it back on his fat dick.

“Jack me off, princess,” he orders you, his voice all velvety sweet and charming again, and it’s crazy how quickly he’s switched back to that now. “Show daddy what your pretty little hands can do.”

He hisses when you start pumping him, moving your hand up and down and the lace of your panties snagging against his smooth, rock hard cock. And he can’t keep his eyes off it, how your fingers don’t even wrap around half of his fat length.

“I-Is this okay, Stevie?”

SMACK.

“Daddy! Sorry, I meant daddy!” you cry out, your ass blooming with pain after his huge palm cracks down on it warningly.

“Mm, sweet sexy little baby girl,” Steve murmurs, watching intensely while you jack him off with your black lace panties in your hand, running them up and down his thick cock. “Jerking daddy off with your hot little panties that you wore just for me, right?”

“Didn’t-Didn’t know you were gonna be here!” You squeak out, regretting your decision to be truthful immediately when his hand cracks down on your bare thigh in another sharp slap.

“Say you wore your sexy little panties for me.” He bits down on your shoulder, tearing the skin with how hard he does it. As if he can’t help it, and you cry out in pain and yet you’re still feeling so much pleasure from rutting against him, chasing your own high while at the same time serving him and doing what he wants you to.

“Wore them for you,” you whine, bucking your hips with more frenzy now. The way he was speaking to you, oh it was getting you so fucking turned on and you couldn’t wrap your head around it. It was making your brain melt, only the submissive part of it reigning over every other rational side, and you pant when your clit catches against the denim of his jeans. “Daddy, please. F-Feels…feels…”

“I know, baby. I know,” he coos at you, voice dripping in condescension. And you feel so small, almost like a delicate little fairy in the domain of a literal God. That’s how powerful and big he looks to you in this very moment, like you’re at his mercy and you’d do anything for him. “You like jacking me off, baby?”

“Y-Yeah, I – I…”

You’re talking gibberish, and desperately chasing your own pleasure as you continue to rub against his leg. And yet you look down at his dick, how fat and thick it is, how it makes your hand look so tiny. How he’s got you jacking him off with your own lacy panties, how he’s watching it so intently and you can feel his cock hardening even more, if that’s even possible.

“You like my cock, princess? Like how big it is?”

“Yes!”

He grins devilishly, “You want it inside you, baby?”

Your jaw drops. He wouldn’t, would he? Oh, would you let him? Right now, your lust-crazed mind can’t find a single reason as to why not.

“I’d fuck you so good,” he whispers beguilingly into your ear, like he’s the devil himself persuading you to do something that you’re sure you shouldn’t be doing. But why not?! It wasn’t like you had a boyfriend! Ari had made that crystal clear! “Bounce your cute little pussy on my big daddy dick till you pass out on top of me. Would you like that?”

You whimper once more as his hand reaches down between your legs, and you gasp when he spreads your sopping folds. Now, you can feel the rough denim of his jeans even better, your engorged clit practically crying as it throbs uncontrollably. The rough pads of his fingers rub against it rhythmically, and you grind back up against his hand, humping it like you’re nothing more than a bitch in heat.

“Answer me,” he slaps your pussy hard, the squelching sound echoing across his bedroom, mingling with your scream of pleasure which only eggs him on. Again, he slaps you down there, and then another time. Till you’re quivering and crying and humping blindly against his palm, spreading your arousal all over him.

“I’d like it!” you cry out, a part of you ashamed with how easily you’ve given in to him.

“Mm, you know you’d have to be carried out of here after I’m through with you,” he says, manhandling you on his lap, dragging you back and forth on his thigh and creating the most delicious friction you’ve ever felt. “Not that I’d ever let you leave, baby girl. I’d keep you under my wing, in my bed because that’s where you belong.” He gives your ass another harsh slap that has you howling, “Say it. Tell daddy where you belong.”

“I-In your bed,” you manage to get out, feeling like you can hardly string a sentence together because all you can really focus on is the intense pleasure that’s building up inside you. “I…I belong in your bed, daddy, I don’t… I can’t… I…oh!”

Your release takes you by complete surprise. You squirt everywhere, on Steve’s cock, his shirt, and some even lands on his face. He smirks, swiping his finger over his cheek and sucking on it, his eyes glinting darkly. So dark and with such hunger, almost like he wants to eat you.

“Sweet little princess pussy,” he murmurs while you melt in his arms, unable to hold yourself up. Your legs are shaking like crazy, and he hugs you tightly against his chest, although one of his hands covers your own, ensuring it stays pumping his dick no matter what state you’re in. “She tastes so sweet, baby girl. How is she so sweet yet so naughty at the same time?”

Despite everything, his dirty talk has you feeling sparks down there again. Oh fuck.

“Steve, I–”

“Nobody told you to stop, princess,” he says darkly, bouncing his leg underneath you and causing you, in turn, to bounce on top of him. Your poor, sensitive pussy, still reeling from the remnants of your strong orgasm, “Get back to it. Hump your little pussy on daddy’s leg until I tell you to stop.”

Knowing you’re weak to the point of almost passing out, he’s got a firm hand clamped on your own, and he starts making you jack him off again. Rubbing your hand up and down his cock, your black lace panties rubbing alongside. The sight alone gets you going again, and once more you feel a spark of pleasure down there.

The party’s going on in full swing downstairs, heavy music blaring and yet all you can hear is the sound of both of you panting and moaning. His sweet voice uttering the dirtiest of things into your ear as you both masturbate each other. And it’s so raw, so primal, how you writhe on top of him like a goddamned animal, how he’s got the most carnal look in his eyes as if he’s a beast and you’re a lamb and he’s about to devour you.

He kisses you, and it’s so sloppy and animalistic, and you’re shocked at how desperately your lips work against his. How his hand wraps around your neck, how your fingers card through his hair. He spits into your mouth, biting and sucking at your lip till you taste the metallicity of your own blood. Or his. You’re not too sure.

The air is hot and thick with sex, and his dick twitches in your hand, so ready to blow and that’s when his fingers squeeze around your throat.

“You ever gonna walk into a party unattended ever again?” Steve grunts, pinching and bullying your throbbing clit like he owns it.

“N-No!”

“Damn right. Where do you belong, baby girl?”

“In-In your bed, daddy – oh-oh my!”

You squirt again, and this time, Steve follows suit. You watch, entranced, as he blows his load. Streaks of hot, white cum land on your hand, your black panties, your stomach, your face, everywhere. And you cum so hard, you can feel your pussy cramping with how intense the pleasure feels, waves of it radiating through your very being, egged on by Steve who keeps rocking you against him, muttering profanity under his breath as his thumb circles your poor, overwhelmed clit.

“Good girl,” he says after a few moments, looking like he’s barely broken a sweat as he pats your cheek. “Fuck, you’re such a good girl. I needed that.”

And you watch with wide, glassy, fucked out eyes as he takes your poor, tattered panties, the ones you’d used to jack him off, now drenched in his thick cum. He brings them to your mouth, prodding them against your lips.

“Open, baby,” he commands softly. And you do, and to your shock he places the panties in your mouth, a smirk on his face, “Suck.”

You suck Steve’s cum from your own panties, unable to get over how hot your poor, frazzled, cock-drunk mind is finding this debauchery to be. He tastes salty, manly, and you feel so submissive, so under his mercy as he watches you suck like a good, obedient little baby.

“That’s right, swallow it all,” he murmurs, “You like that, don’t you? You like being a little cumslut baby?”

You whimper out a quiet “y-yeah” and he nods in approval, finally taking the lacy fabric out of your mouth, holding it tight in his fist. “I’d make you put ‘em back on but…” His voice trails off, and he chuckles as he throws your poor, torn panties somewhere on his bed behind him.

All you’re able to do is sit on his lap like a little doll. And he’s not even done with you, still fondling and touching your body, squeezing and hugging you close like you’re a doll and you can’t get enough. He’s particularly enamoured by his cum staining your stomach and chest, and he gathers some of it with a swipe of his finger.

“Does your baby cunt want some?” Steve asks devilishly, and you gasp, again just watching as he puts his hand between your legs again, this time opening your folds and spreading his cum into your poor, sensitive pussy. “Look at that, baby. Your greedy little cunt swallowed it right up.”

“Steve, I…”

“Shhh, baby girl. You don’t need to say anything.”

You’re thankful for that, still reeling from everything that’s just happened. Oh, you hadn’t expected all of this! Hell, you’d been forced to come to this party against your will, and now… Oh gosh, how had things come to this? How did you even feel about it? How–

The bedroom door is thrown open. You yelp, holding the big varsity jacket around you as you turn around to see a burly basketball player standing by the entrance. Steve growls at the intrusion, holding you closer against his chest. “Bucky, what the fuck?”

“Sorry for interrupting, Cap, but they’re all here. The St. Andrews’ assholes. Everett, Drysdale, Levinson… He’s looking for her, I think he knows she’s here.”

What?! ARI WAS HERE?! Oh, how dare he?!

Steve picks you up and places you on his bed before getting to his feet, muttering profanities under his breath. “He knows better than to fucking come here.”

Shakily, you try to get to your feet but to no avail. Your legs are still shaking. “M-Maybe, I should–”

“Stay right here.” Steve says, an air of finality in his tone that indicates he means it as an order with zero objections. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of him.”

THE END! guys!! I'm literally so insecure about posting this. Idk, I just feel like lately I've lost my mojo, like my writing has lost it's spark? But I pushed on because I wanted to get something out for you guys. And honestly?? BRO I DIDN'T KNOW WHERE TO END IT bc I wanted this story to continue bc WDYM ARI IS HERE?!?! I wanna see the confrontation lmfao!

But anyways, just to be crystal clear - THIS IS JUST AN ALTERNATE UNIVERSE DRABBLE! It has nothing to do with the original wicked games story! That's why I wrote Steve here like how he is in chapter two of wicked games, and NOT like how he is in chapter 3 and 4! He's gone through a lot of character change and development in the original fic, but I didn't want to show that here! THAT IS IT'S OWN STORY HEHE. i know yall get it but i'm still reiterating lmao.

ANYWAYS. what did you guys think??? PLEASE PLEASE let me know! feedback genuinely would mean the world to me. I'm so fucking insecure about this fic it's like I've forgotten how to write!!

BUTTT. as usual here are some questions (you don't have to answer them, you can write whatever feedback you want but just in case hehe)

1 - HOW WAS THE SMUTTT??

2 - Do you think they would've gone all the way and had sex had they not been interrupted??

3 - How did Ari even know she was at this party??

4 - Opinions on our fav gal Wanda in this chapter?

ANYWAYS i love you guys, thanks for sticking by me and supporting my writing especially lately when there hasn't been many updates. LOVE YOU. pls lmk what you think!

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #ari levinson #wicked games #chris evans

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navybrat817 · 3 months ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/navybrat817/773964651350360064/gummydummy19-zanephillips-richard-armitage?source=share

Why would you do this? 😭

I just reblogged it, nonnie! But let's imagine, shall we?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Warnings: Masturbation, oral sex (referenced), unprotected sex (referenced), stalking, Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers (they're warnings, okay?)

Banner by the talented @cafekitsune

Bucky/Steve who is away on a mission and brought a piece of your clothing with them. You’ll never understand why he wants your ruined underwear so much, but you don't argue. Your lingering scent makes his mouth water while he strokes his thick cock and he wishes he was home to bury his tongue deep inside. It isn't always your underwear he brings. Sometimes it’s a shirt or cardigan. He can pretend he’s taking it off before latching onto a nipple. The little gasp you always let out when he does drives him crazy. And you aren't getting out of bed when he gets home.

Bucky/Steve who lives next door to you and one of your shirts somehow ends up in his basket. He knows it’s wrong to jerk off with the garment on his face, but he does it anyway. It smothers his grunts and moans as he imagines what it would feel like to split you open with his cock. You're such a sweetheart with your little waves and smiles, but he wants to see you cry from pleasure. Maybe the other neighbors will hear you scream his name so they know who you belong to.

Bucky/Steve who works for your dad and knows he isn't supposed to touch you, but wants to. You leave your sweater behind on accident one day after a gathering and he uses it before returning it. He moans your name and swipes his thumb over his tip, wondering if you would tease his length and balls with your tongue or if you would beg for him to fuck your throat. You’ll look so beautiful down on your knees, your cunt practically dripping with the need for him to fuck that hole, too. Your dad will have to accept that you belong to him.

Bucky/Steve who doesn't mean to start stalking you. It just happens. You need someone to look after you. So, it isn't his fault he’s currently laying on your bed, touching himself like he watched you do the night before. His fingers will stretch your pussy much better than your own, and he’ll make room for his cock. He may finish on the fabric and leave it in the middle of the bed for you as a teaser for what’s to come. Because the next time he does it'll be inside you. And you’ll thank him for it.

Nothing to see here, lovelies. Go about your business. ❤️ Love and thanks! ❤️

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biteofcherry · 3 months ago

Text

Touch the Darkness

dark mafia!Steve Rogers x female reader

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

warnings for this chapter: dark!Steve Rogers; possessiveness; power imbalance; forced marriage; D/s undertones; jealous Reader (though she claims otherwise); non-lethal poisoning; sex; turned on by violence;

word count: 6.8k

Author’s Note: I know you've waited a bit for this next chapter. I didn't exactly have trouble writing it, my muse was simply interested in other projects. But I'm always a hoe for dark Steve, so returning to him was inevitable. As it was inevitable for Steve's dick darkness to start corrupting Reader in small doses. Or, maybe, he gives her boldness to act out on instincts she would otherwise suppress, because they're not proper 😏 For a brighter side - Princess gains a genuine new friend! 🥰

Touch the Darkness Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Chapter 8. Tempestuous as the sea

~ * ~

You could blame the slow process of writing on the tiredness, but it was honestly the fault of delicious macaroons you’ve been reaching for every single sentence. At least with the sweet bite the mundane typing of a bland report felt a little more exciting. Once you ate the final macaroon, only the boring part would remain.

Of all the excitement and challenges that came with running a health center, the bureaucratic side of it was truly exhausting.

A knock on the door of your home office startled you mid bite.

Before you swallowed and managed to invite him in, Steve was already pushing the door open and strolling inside.

You glared at him, but didn’t comment on the intrusion. Knowing your husband, he’d say that he came in your pussy just this morning and you had no objections to it, so why fuss over a damn office.

Pointing out that you didn’t exactly invite him into your pussy either, was a futile argument. Especially since you didn’t stop him, or even elbow him in those perfect, stupid abs of marble.

Quite the contrary. You rocked back against him and begged, until he rolled you fully onto your front and savaged you.

You were still disgusted with yourself for that. As well for the sex two nights before. And the one in the shower. Or the Sunday humiliation, when it became clear that the chef was in the kitchen preparing your fancy dinner while you were screaming the house down as Steve wrung three orgasms out of you, one after the other.

So disgusted. And still giving in to the temptation that was the devil himself.

Who walked around your desk and leaned against it, looking down at you curled in the chair and with your cheeks stuffed with sweets.

A strange feeling knotted your stomach.

You were barefoot, wearing a pair of leggins and a hoodie. Crumbs of gooey sweetness were sticking to the corners of your mouth. Steve was barefoot, too; which meant he came home for the rest of the day, with no plans of leaving. He had a plain, tight T-shirt paired with dark jeans, his leather jacket already taken off. He stared at your face, only briefly glancing at the almost empty plate of macaroons.

This scene was so… domestic.

Instead of unwrapping that terrifying thought, you diverted your attention to the royal red envelope in Steve’s hand. A beautiful calligraphy shimmered in gold.

“What’s that?” You asked, swallowing the rest of your macaroon.

Unexpectedly, Steve leaned forward. Tip of his tongue licked at the corner of your mouth, swiping the sticky sweetness. Then it plugged between your lips that opened on a soft gasp.

The kiss was short, but intense and depraved. As it always was with Steve. And your treacherous body chased it as he pulled back.

“Lemon would pair better.” He hummed, resuming his previous stance.

“What?” You blinked, confused. Your head was still swimming in dizzy fog from that unexpected kiss. As well from the fact nothing more followed.

You were married, but there was nothing marital about your relationship with Steve. There were no sweet kisses good morning or goodbye, or hugs and cuddles. If either of you initiated physical contact it was to fuck.

But now no touching, or undressing followed. The unexpected kiss remained just that - a shard of affection a normal newlywed couple might show each other.

It messed with your mind. And pulled at a cord in your chest.

“With your taste.” Steve explained; corners of his mouth curling in a hungry smirk.

Which, really, should be followed by his mouth descending on other parts of you.

Instead, your body filled with heat both from the kiss and his words while Steve returned to tapping the envelope against his thigh, unbothered.

Swallowing, you pushed that spark of need down. Steve was already too aware of how eagerly your body responded to him. Especially, since you stopped fighting it too much when the desire sparked low in your core. You weren’t going to further your humiliation.

“So what’s with that?” You asked, pointing at the red envelope.

“An invitation.” Steve showed you the beautifully addressed front. “For Mr and Mrs Rogers.”

You ignored his pleased smirk when he said the last part. It still evoked annoyance. The realization other people were now calling you by his last name fueled that irritation.

“To Stark’s annual post expo gala.” He said it with a roll of his eyes.

Clearly, he wasn’t thrilled. You doubted it was because he had no regard for technology and knowledge. As much as you hated to admit it, Steve Rogers was exceptionally smart and up to date with many areas of expertise.

From what you learned about your husband over the weeks, he wasn’t a fan of boring, social chit-chat and fake politeness. Which is why he preferred his direct, brutal methods of communication. But even he couldn’t fully escape socializing with the people he had on payroll and leash.

“I assume it’s expected of me to go with you,” you glared at him, even though a small spark of excitement flickered in your chest.

You’ve been to a few fancy parties and fundraisers, but to attend something of this caliber was a thrilling novelty.

For one, you’d get to dress up. You liked it, once in a while, to feel like a modern sort of Cinderella, who gets to swirl around in a pretty dress and eat expensive snacks. Secondly, it was a tempting opportunity for you as a director of the health center to lure in new benefactors. The project you’ve been working on was one that would need a solid dose of funding.

There was also the aspect of meeting people in similar fields. Stark’s expo focused on technology mostly, but that area leaked into medical fields, as well. There were a lot of neuroscience breakthroughs in the past years, which served psychiatric and psychological fields. It could prove beneficial, if you spoke to some experts.

“Princess,” Steve tilted his head, “fuck the expectations.”

You almost sagged in disappointment.

“But-” he continued- “I have a few things to settle with some people and they will be there. It saves me a lot of time to do it there. And since I’m going, you are going, too.”

He dropped the envelope onto the desk then cupped your chin with his hand. You hated how you didn’t hate the jolt of pleasure his touch evoked.

“First official outing as newlyweds, Princess. Gotta make an impression.” There was near cruel mirth in his blue eyes.

“Pffft!” You snorted, attempting to pull away from his grip. You still haven’t fully accepted that once Steve had his hand on you, he was unlikely to relent.

Well, your mind didn’t accept it. Your body has become a whore for it.

“I doubt I’ll be making any sort of impression on the corrupted men who kneel for you,” unless they were disgusting pigs interested in ogling Steve’s sidepiece. “Though I guess I could use you, for a change. Your name could be impressive enough for some schmucks to donate to the center.”

“Tell them you’re mine and they’ll fund you three centers.” Steve said it so casually, without any hint of cockiness. In his eyes, it was a simple truth.

“I’m not yours,” you hissed, more annoyed at the heat you felt creeping over your skin.

At that Steve smirked.

He released your chin and stood up. He didn’t even counter your claim, as if it was the most pitiful lie that didn’t require any argument because neither of you believed it.

He stole one macaroon before leaving your office.

You quickly stuffed your mouth with the only macaroon left, in case he would take that away from you, too. Then you returned your gaze to the project document. Suddenly, with the prospect of potential donors, you felt a new wave of energy and motivation to write it all out.

You clung to the claim that it was the same motivation filling you with excited lightness as you donned on a beautiful evening dress three weeks later. Adamant on enjoying the fancy party and working for the center’s goals, you pushed away the nagging thoughts of going there as Steve’s wife.

Not that you thought anyone would be interested in that, anyway. You weren’t a famous socialite, or a model, and you considered Steve to be terrifying enough that no one would imagine him getting married. Much less gossiping about it.

The smaller argument you weaved - about you not even matching your outfits, ergo no one would recognize you as a couple - died the moment you descended the stairs to where Steve was already waiting for you.

The only time he wore a suit was at your wedding. His usual style was rougher, more practical and intimidating. A jagged chunk of volcanic rock, still pulsing with burning lava. So it was quite shocking to see him in a dark blue two piece that was cut so perfectly that his broad shoulders and tapered waist seemed more prominently outlined than when he wore jeans and tight shirts.

The shade of his suit was dark enough to hold that dangerous, intimidating aura, but the shiny blue hue matched your choice of dress perfectly.

He was the night sky to your moon glow.

Steve didn’t mask the hunger in his eyes as he looked at you. Though you were thankful he didn’t utter anything about not making it to the gala, because he wanted to sate that hunger.

He did, however, order you to turn around; with that rough, low voice that had your clit tingling. Despite the vow you made to yourself two months ago, to not so easily comply with his commands, you did as asked. You found yourself staring at your reflection in the large mirror in the entryway, your body heating up from the sudden lewd imagery of what could happen if Steve put his hands on you. Would he make you watch as he…

His ice blue eyes sparked a dark satisfaction, undoubtedly reading your body well enough to suspect where your thoughts have wandered.

But he didn’t mock you. Instead, his touch was a gentle brush that evoked goosebumps as he placed something shiny and heavy on your chest.

He clasped the white gold necklace at the back of your neck as you stared at the incredible rock nestled in a cushion of diamonds that were so crystal white they appeared to be frosty snow.

The rock in the middle was a hue of sundown orange, mostly transparent, but with a flame encapsulated within. Like the heart of a star.

“Once upon a time,” Steve’s fingers trailed over your exposed collarbones and down along the delicate chain of the necklace. “There were six rarest jewels in the world. Called the infinity stones.”

Memory of Batroc asking about them flashed in your mind and you held your breath.

The rumors were true, then. Steve was the ghost from the legend, who tore through the Greek magnate’s citadel and stole the rarest gems, without leaving a trace. If this was one of them, were the rest nestled in the rings on his fingers like you presumed once before?

“This one is called the soul stone.” Steve traced the outline of the pendant with his fingertip, dipping it into the valley between your breasts. Your nipples hardened instantly.

“Fitting, since you’re the devil who stole mine,” your retort had no bite. Not with how breathless you sounded.

Steve chuckled, slipping his hand over your breast and lower. His fingers splayed across your belly as he pressed closer against you. His breath was a warm tickle on your skin as he brushed his lips along the column of your throat.

“I stole more than that, haven’t I, Princess?” He smirked at the flash of fear in your eyes, which dissolved into stubborn defiance.

“Yes. My peace and chance at happiness.” You glared at him in the mirror. Which didn’t dent his amusement.

With a chuckle, Steve kissed your neck then scraped his teeth over the spot. Thankfully, not hard enough to leave any evidence, but making your pussy clench.

You scurried away towards the exit, before he decided to humiliate you by leaving a hickey that anyone could see.

You tried not to show how Steve’s touch on your lower back affected you, neither on your way to the car, nor when you entered the lavish gala at the Stark Tower. You doused the warmth of comfort with a flute of champagne when Steve spent the first solid hour keeping you at his side and introducing you to various people. As his wife.

It was only after you two returned to the main hostess and Tony’s wife, Pepper, who greeted you at the entrance and then smoothly roped you into a social conversation, that Steve murmured something about attending to business.

He left you with a brief kiss to your cheek and a brush of his fingers sliding from the small of your back over your ass. Unapologetic about doing it publicly.

You narrowed your eyes, glaring at his retreating form.

“Ah, newlyweds.” Next to you, Pepper let a dramatically dreamy sigh.

Your gaze shifted to her, only to notice she was most amused. Unlike some of the women whom you were introduced to, she didn’t look at you with envy or disdain. Which had annoyed you, because really there was nothing to be jealous of. Well, mindblowing sex perhaps. But that was it. Nothing more.

If they wanted Steve so much, you’d happily give him away. If he only let you.

Pepper seemed genuine in her friendly approach, witty responses and warmth. The only flaw you found in her so far was the fact she was friendly with Steve, too.

Not overtly, in a way betraying carnal interest, or former relationship (which you sensed from a few other women at the banquet). But the platonic friendliness toward someone like Steve was alarming in itself.

“Oh yeah,” you snorted, lifting your glass of champagne to your lips, “I’m sooo head over heels for him.”

Pepper’s laugh was soft and tinkling like velvet bells. Nothing fake, or annoying in the sound of it. Quite the opposite, you were surprised how it put you at ease after mingling with people who wore fake politeness like a family crest.

Crinkles appeared in the corners of her eyes as she looked at you and you couldn’t help but respond with your own grin.

“People often mistake my sunny disposition for naivety. They're very wrong.” Pepper said, taking a sip of her strawberry gin & tonic.

“I know you didn't marry Steve out of love.” She stated bluntly, without judgment or conspiratory whispering. “But watching you two, some things are unmistakable.”

She lifted her left shoulder in a shrug, sparkling amusement in her eyes turning into a knowing look. Your heart halted before setting in a slightly panicked flutter.

There were little moments when you felt certain cracks in your hard hateful shell, but you hoped that you managed to quickly hide them behind walls and under a mask. You didn’t want Steve finding more of your weaknesses. It was even worse, if someone else saw them.

Pepper barely met you and if she noticed how comfortable you felt at times beside Steve (when you forgot to remember you’re supposed to hate him and be disgusted by his touch), then the bastard must have been aware of them, too. Crap.

Still, you arched your brow as if you had no idea what she was implying. Pepper’s amusement deepened, she wasn’t buying your cluelessness.

“There may not be romantic affection, but he sure gives you attention.” She said, angling her body so you stood shoulder to shoulder, facing the grand ballroom.

Before you snorted that you’d rather never have drawn Steve’s attention, she vaguely pointed at the room full of people. Expensive suits and dresses worth more than your half year salary, diamonds dripping, chests puffed. Women polished to perfection glued to the side of their men, sweet smiles offered on painted lips.

“That's something only very few women here experience. It’s rare.” There was a hint of disappointment in her tone, but you doubted it had to do with her own relationship.

Tony Stark was like a hummingbird on energizer and coke - he fleeted from one conversation to the other, growing bored, acting pretentious asshole. He stopped for longer only with a few people. But every half an hour or so, he would search for Pepper and the way his attention zeroed in on her left no room to doubt his love for her.

She grounded him. Gave him a moment to recharge, even as she called him out on some of his antics.

Many of the women at the gala, who accompanied their husbands, or partners, were there as an accessory. Beautiful, adding to the status, but few were even acknowledged by their company.

“I’m not sure having Steve Rogers’ attention is exactly a good thing.” You pointed out.

Everyone here may officially pretend he was a ruthless businessman, while they all knew the bloody truth. He was a mafia boss, a brutal king of the underworld, who wouldn’t blink an eye flaying someone open here in the light of the crystal chandeliers.

No one wanted his attention on them, not really.

“Not for most.” Pepper agreed. “Though some of the women might disagree.”

“Are you talking from experience?” You maintained a neutral, indifferent tone (mostly because you didn’t think there was ever anything between Pepper and Steve); yet there was a tiny flicker of something angry that ignited at the prospect.

It stirred with a growl and clawed out a few times that night, when a few of the women made it obvious they were wet and willing for Steve.

“God, no!” Pepper snorted, pretending to shudder. “I’m not that adventurous.”

“Yeah, bungee jumping without rope might be less of an adrenaline rush than being with him,” you rolled your eyes, but the corners of your mouth tilted in a grin.

“Well, it seems only fair to give back in return. What would perturb the dark overlord?” Pepper pretended to seriously ponder, tapping her finger against her lips.

“I could try setting Bucky on fire.”

Pepper’s laugh resounded with the same melodic chime as previously, but much louder. Not a single fake note, her burst of laughter was real. It enticed your own laugh to bubble out; both of you falling into a fit of giggles behind your drink glasses.

You drew the attention of many people, who either watched you with suspicion, or glared offended. You didn’t care. And when your gaze connected with Steve’s, who looked your way from the other side of the room while some men were babbling next to him, you didn’t even pretend to be gloomy.

“Now that was the height of entertainment tonight.” Pepper looped her arm around yours, still smiling brilliantly ear to ear. “For me, at least. Now, how to repay you for that? I can tell you all the spicy gossip. We could get drunk and no one would dare to say anything to either me or you.”

“Not gossip, but information.” You finished your champagne and reached for another flute as a waiter passed by. “I need to know more about this swamp my so-called husband treads through. And I need to milk some of them for money for the center.”

“I know just the right people for that,” she nodded with determination and steered you toward the first potential benefactor.

Pepper’s company was a wonderful balm and entertainment rolled into one. She was a graceful hostess, smart and perceptive professional, but also a bubbly imp who didn’t spare you the details about some sordid affairs.

Though she could excuse herself with her duties, she stuck with you the entire time. She also managed not to smirk at your glower when she pointed at three women who have in the past fucked Steve.

However, her smile turned mischievous as she spotted someone over your shoulder. She reminded you of the lunch date in three days that you happily agreed to, then smoothly glided away before you managed to properly say goodbye.

Words stuck in your throat as you felt the familiar solid warmth at your back. Steve’s shadow cast over you first, then his heat and scent engulfed you. Like a mythological fate, always reaching its grasp for the heroine, no matter the hard fight towards the light, your personal devil softly pulled you back into his clutches.

His hand touched your back and he spun you around.

“Having fun, Princess?” He looked down at you.

Icy blade of his gaze cut down men bigger than life, but, despite the first instinctive flash of fear, you felt it slicing through the layers of your clothes and defences.

Plate by plate, you quickly reinforced your shell, to at least endure a few hours more before Steve got under your skin again.

And into your cunt, because with his hot looks and your four glasses of champagne that was inevitable.

“I don’t think parties of this kind are meant to have fun.” You scrunched up your nose. “But I managed to sway some rich snobs to potentially fund that educational project for the center. Leon Stavros seems keen to donate half the sum.”

You announced with a proud tilt of your chin and a smile. Tame enough to not share the actual happiness you felt with Steve. You wanted to boast about your little success, but you had to remember that he was the bane of your existence.

Steve’s hand on your back settled heavier, while his other slid along your arm. He took your hand in his, outstretched your joined arms and in a single move swept you onto the dancefloor.

“You’ll have to use his money for a different project.” He continued your conversation as he led you across the floor. “The psychoeducation and resources for caretakers project is already fully funded.”

It took you a moment for his words to register, because you were still scrambling to catch up with the fact that a heartbeat ago you were standing off to the side and now you were dancing across the ballroom.

It was truly mind boggling that your psychopath husband was a damn good dancer.

“What? Who?” You blinked, when it finally dawned on you what he said. You even cast a glance around, wondering who managed to deliver the funds so quickly.

Something sharp pierced through your chest as you realized there was only one person who knew before everyone else and could fund a project with a single transfer. Your gaze flicked back to Steve’s handsome face.

“Steve…”

Heaviness of the situation turned worse by the second, because he wasn’t showing that smug, triumphant look, which would at least remind you to hate him.

“You were determined to get that project running.” Steve replied easily. There was no affectionate passion in his next words, but still they chipped at the walls protecting you - “What you want, you get.”

“Thank you.” At the moment you didn’t know how else to respond. How to treat this gift.

You could think of it as his manipulation to get you further into his sticky web, but he already had you at his mercy on all accounts. No, it flashed too much thoughtfulness.

To preserve the comfortable setting of animosity, you asked cheekily - “What if I want a divorce?”

You were determined to keep asking for a divorce every chance you got. Officially, you believed it was because you wanted out of this fucked up marriage. Secretly, you were thrilled with the various ways Steve responded to that demand.

“Then-” he pulled you even closer, his cheek brushing yours as he leaned down to whisper into your ear- “you get a fucking so hard, any silly ideas drip out of you permanently.”

Steve delivered on the hard fucking, even though you haven’t mentioned divorce again that night.

You blamed the champagne and happiness at having your project funded for making you sit so close to him in the car on your way back from the gala, rubbing your heated body against him with unrestrained need. Steve was merciful enough to not wait it out until you lost the battle with your own will and initiated sex yourself, but instead dragged you over his lap, rolled up your dress and fingered you into a dripping, screaming puddle before you made it home.

Then he took you hard, in front of that fucking mirror in the hall. With you completely naked, wearing only the necklace and watching yourself give in to the monster completely.

You nearly passed out when he fucked you again in bed. Your almost unconscious state didn’t stop Steve from using you thoroughly and then spilling thick ropes of white cum all over your body, white drops landing around the jewel sparkling on your chest.

Though your body was wonderfully blissed out each time you and Steve had sex - which was becoming an almost daily thing - you still refused to use the blissful adjective to describe your marriage. Or any positive adjective, for that matter. Even as the comfort of sitting next to him or sharing meals increased; or how he casually draped your legs over his lap, massaging your calves while he typed murderous decrees on his phone.

The word domestic echoed in your head often, but you drowned it in screams of his victims, gunshots, Steve’s cold and sinister commands.

You shouldn’t feel at ease and comfortable around the devil who kept you chained to him. You gave yourself a pass for enjoying mindmelting orgasms, it was a small reward for your suffering, but you wouldn’t let yourself get accustomed to being a wife. Not to Steve.

So you pretended to be only mildly annoyed when he strolled into your office one day, bringing lunch as if he was a normal loving spouse, and announcing that you’ll be hosting a dinner at home. For the mayor and his wife. To his credit, Steve didn’t imply you had to be the one preparing said dinner. Having a chef was another benefit of your doom. But the expectation of playing the sweet wife and hostess to the corrupted pair of a politician and socialite made your blood boil.

Or maybe it was the fact that mayor’s wife was one of the few women Pepper confirmed to have been fucking Steve in the past.

No, you told yourself as you put on the soul stone necklace when preparing for said dinner. You didn’t care who he sank his cock into. You didn’t care, if he returned to that and left you in peace.

But your conviction shattered to sharp, jagged pieces when mayor’s wife made obvious moves at your husband, with her own fucking husband sitting right there at the table!

You were appalled. By her rudeness, of course.

Mayor played a clueless idiot, probably too scared of Steve to fight for honor. Or maybe he was actually gaining something from having his wife almost drop to her knees and swallow Steve’s cock whole. You played indifference, because why should you care?

So maybe your knife and fork scraped against the plate so loud that everyone at the table cringed in pain, when the mayor’s wife briefly touched Steve’s arm and mentioned missing their passionate art discussions. It was nothing. Just a spasm in your hand. And you gulping down half of your wine glass all unladylike was because you needed to soothe an itch in your throat, not because the floozy licked her lips and made a suggestion Steve should go with her to the new exhibition.

Though Steve hadn’t replied to Miliana’s advances, focusing on the not so subtle business talk with her husband, he didn’t refuse her either. Which made you want to reach for the knife he had custom made for you and stab him with it, when later that night he had the audacity to touch you.

Steve merely chuckled, absolutely amused. Mockingly asked if you were jealous. Which you were not!

Tension slowly dropped after that, as days passed and you haven’t seen that skank’s face. Unexpectedly, however, the mayor requested an official visit to the center. It was a short one, a half an hour so the press could write about his interest in healthcare and supporting new community focused projects. You also suspected he wanted to kiss Steve’s ass.

You didn’t have a reason to deny him, especially since the press would also mention the center and new projects, which would be helpful. It was even better, because he came only with some of his office staff, no wife at his side.

But then, just as you were breathing in relief that the circus was almost over, the mayor had the balls to invite himself over to your house for dinner the upcoming weekend.

In true political bullshit manipulation, saying how his wife loved your chef’s scallops and couldn’t wait to taste them again and how your house provided comfort to talk business with your husband.

At this point, you were wondering if the slimy asshole was a cuckold.

He was bending backwards just to give his own wife an opportunity to touch your fucking husband. Maybe he really was into that. Maybe he wanted to watch. Maybe you should’ve vomited when you relayed the request to Steve and he shrugged that he’s free Saturday evening: if the greedy idiot wants to crawl begging for more scraps.

Your appetite evaporated, as you spent days fuming at the prospect of another weird dinner when a shameless woman would be drooling after Steve while you were sitting there right opposite of her, in your own damn home.

No, this time you wouldn’t stand for it. You would make Miliana associate your house with something most unpleasant. And a small vial stolen from one of the medicine cabinets at the center was going to help you with that.

It was surprisingly easy, really. It should shock you how calm you were as you prepared for the dinner; how a soft smile graced your lips as you set the table while the chef prepared delicious food. But now that determination guided your hand through the plan, earlier fiery aggravation melted away.

Briefly, you wondered if the same calm took over Steve when he took lives.

You shook that thought away, since you weren’t attempting to kill anyone. Though when a memory of her hand on Steve’s arm flashed in your mind, your fingers itched to grab a knife.

Applying a little drop to the bottom of a crystal glass and another on the rim, smearing it along, you felt an odd kind of satisfaction unfurl in your chest. There was no hesitation, no worry about potential mix-up. No, you were certain Miliana would once again seat on Steve’s left. Just like the last time. It was cunning, since it appeared all innocent - her sitting on her husband’s right, just you were sitting on your husband’s right, the men facing each other.

Your smile widened when the couple entered your dining room and sat exactly like you predicted. Politely fake conversation flew as the chef brought out first dish and his assistant poured wine into glasses.

The scallops tasted even more delicious, in your opinion. Especially when after a few sips of wine the mayor’s wife had to quickly excuse herself to the bathroom.

Few minutes later the mayor’s phone vibrated, which led to him frowning at the screen and excusing himself as well - undoubtedly to aid his wife. When he walked back into the dining room a while later, he looked nervous and embarrassed, paler too.

“My apologies. It appears my wife and I have to leave promptly, it was unplanned, but can’t be avoided.”

You made a sound of worried pity, but continued to cut into your own food and eating it without an ounce of genuine distraught. Steve arched a brow in surprise, but nodded his head, which seemed to bring the mayor immense relief. The man was more scared of offending Steve than for his wife’s health.

It was less than a minute when you heard their car take off from the driveway. The sound of it and the fact they were no longer polluting the space of your home pleased you greatly.

“Mhm, these scallops are really delicious,” you hummed, licking your fork.

“Princess,” Steve tuned the petname in a sing-song tone. “What did you do?”

Slowly, you looked his way. He didn’t seem angry, nor worried. He angled his body towards you, propping one elbow on the table and drumming his fingers in a steady rhythm. He wasn’t asking if it was your doing, he already knew.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t permanently damage one of your mistresses. She’s just gonna spend a day or two glued to the toilet.” You snorted, clenching your fingers around the fork. “But maybe next time she’ll reconsider coming into the house where your wife lives.”

Dark gleam flickered over Steve’s ice blue eyes.

He leaned forward, moving his hands to grip the edge of your chair and yanked it at an angle toward him. Your legs were between his, his hands gripping the sides of your chair, veins protruding in his forearms as his muscles tensed.

“Your possessiveness gets me hard.” He chuckled darkly.

“I’m not possessive!” You objected immediately, crossing your hands over your chest.

“You demanded I marry you, the ruthless fucking king of the underworld. So now you have to deal with having a wife. And your reluctant queen won’t stand for any more humiliation.” You spat the last part, boldly leaning forward and glaring at him with all the accumulated hatred.

“Princess,” Steve inched even closer, not the least bothered by your outburst. Quite the opposite, he appeared to love it. “My dick hasn’t even twitched for any other woman, since I tasted your lips. There’s no pleasure in standing their fake, exaggerated despair, when I have your sweet pussy so responsive to my darkness…”

Your retort died on your tongue when suddenly one of Steve’s hands gripped your chin.

“Now-” he tightened his pinch on your chin, his voice smoothly transforming into a cold warning. “Don’t ever do anything like that again.”

“Miliana doesn’t have enough spunk and her husband is too much of a scaredy wimp to retaliate in any form.” He showed zero empathy toward them. “But there are eels and sharks swimming around us and some of them would dare to bite back.”

Holding your chin, Steve forced you to lean closer. His breath tickled your mouth as he inched forward, as well.

“And if anyone dared to put a finger on you, it would end in a bloodbath.”

Only Steve could make a psychopathic threat sound like a seductive, velvet vow of a lover.

Your brain screamed that it was wrong, that you should be disgusted by his words and scared of how easily it came to him to take lives. Yet your insides filled with heat, one spreading through your chest and a wave of it pooling low in your abdomen.

“Don’t go on a murder spree, because of some macho obligation.” You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You. Are. Mine, Princess.” Steve punctuated each word with a brush of his lips against yours. “To harm or disrespect you means to hurt or disrespect me. I have no mercy for those. I would cut off the limb, with which they hurt you, and carve out their intestines. Then fuck you while their blood pools at your feet.”

“That’s disgusting,” with how breathy you sounded, your claim felt like a lie.

One that Steve read right away.

“It turns you on.” He chuckled, grinning.

“I know that you get so wet from the scary, unhinged things that I do.” His other hand slapped your knees apart.

“I’m not-” you frowned, ready to deny that as well. Even though your body was already primed for him.

Words went forgotten when Steve picked you in a swift move and deposited you in his lap. The hand on your chin moved to grip the front of your neck; the cool sensation of his rings digging into your soft skin made you gasp. The sound nearly stopped in your throat, because he tightened his grip. And it made your arousal burst stronger.

His right hand ventured between your spread thighs. His fingers easily slipped beneath the flimsy fabric of your underwear and teased your slick folds.

“Soaked.” Steve triumphed, running the ring-adorned knuckle of his index finger up and down between your folds. “Sweet, good-hearted Princess who lives to help people, cumming on her brutal husband’s weapons and cock.”

The mere mention of his thick cock made your pussy pulse. The image of his gun and of the knife sliding along your skin and pressed so close to your most sensitive areas caused a shiver to rock your whole body.

Steve chuckled at your body’s reaction. He laced kisses and licks along your jaw, continuing to tease your cunt.

“As for you wanting to be a queen at my side…” he sucked your earlobe lewdly, making you moan.

“Do you know what a queen’s role is?” He whispered right into your ear before pulling back slightly.

“To stand fierce and unbending beside her king.” He withdrew his hand, kissing your lips when you pouted at the loss of delicious stimulation. Fingers sticky with your slick, he ran his palm up your belly and over your breast. Then to your arm.

“And to give him an heir.”

Steve’s eyes locked with yours as his wet fingers circled your arm, thumb pressing right over where your contraceptive implant was hidden beneath your skin.

“Are you ready for that, Princess?” He asked, rubbing the spot in sinfully slow circles, as he would do your clit. “Are you ready to take out this little implant and let me breed you properly?”

Your brain was too scrambled, even though Steve barely touched you, really. The adrenaline from poisoning a woman who dared to flirt with your husband mixed with desire that the fucker so easily ignited in you.

The unexpected mention of impregnation? In that dark, raw way only your husband dared to speak to you? For a short moment your mind simply stopped working.

“No!” You clenched your eyes, letting the last remnants of reason fight against the threat.

Steve didn’t seem perturbed by your refusal. Perhaps it wasn’t even something he was interested in, just another means to torment you with and make you yield to his command.

“Until then, you remain my Princess.” He declared, cutting off your airflow for a few seconds and taking possession of your mouth.

When he let you breathe again, you felt dizzy and pliant. Your own hands clenched on his shoulders as Steve stood up abruptly. He kicked the chair away and placed you on the dining table.

Plates and wine glasses tumbled over, food and wine spilling across the tablecloth and dripping down on the floor. You felt the sticky wetness soaking into your back as Steve splayed you on the table, but you didn’t care. Not when he was holding you down by your throat with one hand and ripping your soaked underwear with the other.

Then there was the sound of a zipper and Steve’s low, sexy groan as he gripped his hard cock and stroked it a few times.

Steve held your gaze as he tapped his dick against your pulsing clit and then nudged it into your opening. A needy whine vibrated in your throat, tempting the fingers around your neck to squeeze just a tad tighter.

He slammed into you in one stroke; dark victory flamed in his eyes as your body jerked and your pussy clamped around him.

Buried to the hilt, with his hand around your throat and the other holding your leg bent and pressed against your chest, Steve looked down at you. Danger pulsed off of him like a dark aura, reminding you how defenceless you were.

“Don’t ever fucking endanger what’s mine.” He warned.

You glared at him, indignant at being referred to as his. But then he snapped his hips back and into you again, and your ire flowed into brain short-circuiting pleasure.

“My good, depraved Princess.” Steve praised, fucking you hard. “Creaming around my cock so prettily.”

You fisted the tablecloth, mewling as each of his thrust drove you closer to the peak. It was so rough, so raw and based on urges you never considered yourself to have. You hated it. Hated Steve. Hated what he made you into. And you screamed his name as you came.

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