#siris5ksoftdarkchallenge

[navybrat817]

Wear Me Down

Pairing: Soft!Dark Ari Levinson x Female Reader, OMC x Female Reader Summary: You never wanted a soulmate, but fate brought Ari Levinson into your life. Word Count: Almost 6.9k (Yup! Sorry!) Warnings: Tagging Dubcon to be safe (please do not read if this upsets you!), explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, possessive behavior, manipulation, mind games, angst, porn with feels, soft!dark Ari Levinson (he's a warning!) A/N: For @stargazingfangirl18 's Siri's 5k Soft Dark Challenge (quote: "I can't stop thinking about you.") and @sweetlyscared 's Sweet Lee's Sad 1k Challenge (quote: "Do you love him?"). Congrats, lovelies!!! This is my twist on soulmates and I hope everyone enjoys. ❤️ Beta read by the wonderful @tuiccim , but any and all mistakes are my own. Moodboard by yours truly. Divider by the beautiful @firefly-graphics​. Comments, likes, reblogs and asks are appreciated. ❤️

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Soulmates. Two separate beings condemned to spend their lives in search of each other. People yearned to find the other half of themselves. They prayed and begged for them. You weren’t one of those people.

You decided long ago that fate shouldn’t get to dictate who you were destined to be with. It didn’t seem right or natural. You didn’t need a stranger to complete you. Besides, what if your soulmate didn’t exist? Were you expected to be alone forever? And if they did exist, who was to say you would even like them? Let alone want to spend your life with them? 

Luke wasn’t your “fated” soulmate. You knew that the moment you met. There was no aura surrounding him. Your minds didn’t link the moment you touched. But it didn’t matter. You fell in love with him as a person. It was your choice because you were free to make your own path in life. And you were happy with how things were.

“Oh, my god,” Luke moaned, bringing you back to the moment. 

You smirked as you watched his eyes roll back. “That good, huh?”

“Good? It’s heaven,” he moaned again, licking his lips.

“Well, don’t hog it all,” you teased, reaching over to pull the dessert plate across the table. “I knew we should have ordered two.”

“You didn’t tell me it was that good,” he chuckled, trying to take the plate back as you smiled. “C’mon. One more bite!”

“No! You’ve had more than half.”

“Okay, okay. You win,” he said, holding his hands up in defeat as he gazed at you.

“Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?” he asked innocently.

“THAT. That puppy dog look,” you answered, taking a slow bite of the chocolate cake. 

“Should I switch to…” he trailed off as his head dropped, lifting it slowly with a pout. “The smolder?” 

You almost spit your bite out, covering your mouth as you tried not to laugh. “Not even close.”

One of the things you loved about Luke was his ability to make you laugh. He was against the idea of soulmates, too. He saw too many people rearrange their entire lives just to appease others. He also saw people tear themselves apart when they didn’t find their other half soon enough. It was heartbreaking to see people crumble into themselves and so quickly. Neither of you wanted that.

“Actually, you probably should finish it. I can’t have another bite,” you said as you slid the plate back his way, wiping your mouth with the napkin.

“The smolder did work,” he winked, stopping in mid-bite when you rubbed your arms. “Cold?”

“No, no. I’m fine,” you replied, your eyes darting around the restaurant. It was a warm and cozy atmosphere, but you couldn’t shake the feeling in your gut that something suddenly felt wrong.

“Why don’t I pay the check and we can get going?” Luke offered, looking around for your waiter. 

“Yeah. Maybe I’m just anxious to get you home,” you smirked, trying to be playful. Judging by the raised eyebrow you got in response when he looked back at you, it fell flat.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, taking your hand. 

“I’m okay, Luke,” you assured him, trying to convince yourself as well. “I just want-”

“ARI! There you are!” a man across the room shouted, making a few heads turn. Including your own.

You stopped breathing when you saw the man, who you could only assume was Ari, begin to cross the room. If you had to describe an alpha male in look, it would have been him. The man exuded confidence and power, his muscles and large frame hardly contained under his clothing. The long, dark hair and beard only added to his allure. In fact, he was the most attractive man you had ever seen.

But that wasn’t what struck you. What got your attention was the glow around him. The red aura seemed to flicker as he got closer to you. Of course, it was red. Power. Passion. Love. It was him. Your soulmate. 

You turned your head away before he could make eye contact and slid further into your seat. You prayed he didn’t see you, but how could he miss you? And why was he here?! You went all this time without him.

“We need to go,” you whispered as Luke flagged down your waiter.

“We can go as soon as-”

“We need to go. NOW,” you hissed, bumping the table as you got up. “So much for not attracting attention,” you thought.

“Is everything alright, miss?” the waiter asked as you fumbled to grab your purse, your hand shaking.

“Babe?” Luke asked, already out of his seat.

“I’m fine. I’m fine. I just need some air, okay? I’ll wait outside,” you said quickly, grabbing your purse and bolting from the table.

You knew the moment Ari stopped walking, his head slowly turning toward your fleeing form. You made the mistake of glancing back, seeing his blue eyes flash as he looked at you. He looked as if he would follow before his friend stopped him. 

"I took the liberty of ordering you a scotch," you heard, thankful that you got the chance to slip outside.

The cold breeze hit your face as you stumbled outside, nearly losing your footing as you shivered. You concentrated on your breathing to steady yourself as you grabbed your keys. You debated getting in the driver seat as you got to the car before you decided on the passenger seat, too overwhelmed to drive. The car smelled like Luke's cologne and it only soothed you a bit.

You weren't sure how much time had passed when the driver door opened, making you jump. 

"Woah. It's just me," Luke gently said as he saw your face, getting in and taking the keys from your hand. "Babe, you're shaking."

"Let's just go. Please."

He didn't say anything as he buckled up and started the car. You looked in the mirror when he backed out of the parking space and drove away, holding your breath until the restaurant faded from your vision.

"It was him."

"It was who?"

"It was him," you said again, refusing to say the word. Because that man wasn't… He couldn’t be. "Please, don't make me say it."

"Wait. Him? Your soulmate?" Luke asked, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. 

"Yes. I saw his aura," you answered. "But it's okay. Maybe he didn't notice mine."

"I doubt that," he muttered, glancing in the rearview mirror. 

"He didn't follow me out," you assured him with more confidence than you felt. You didn't want him to be upset or worried. "Can we just forget I mentioned it? Please?"

"How can you just forget?"

"Because I can," you stubbornly replied. Because you had to. You had your own life. You didn't need a stranger to mess it up. "Because I love you."

"I love you, too," he swore.

But for the first time, you heard uncertainty in his tone. 

The automatic door buzzed as you stepped into the liquor store, shivering. The fluorescent lights made you squint as you went down the aisle. They never bothered you before, but you were on edge. You had a hard time sleeping the night before. A night in with a nice bottle of wine would help relax you. And it would hopefully make it up to Luke since you ruined the rest of that nice dinner.

You rubbed your arms as you searched for the right bottle. Why was it so cold? Or did you just need some rest? Smiling, you finally found the one you were looking for. But as you reached for it, a hand suddenly clamped over yours. The cold you felt was replaced by heat, like an electric current throughout your entire body. And it shook you to your core.

"You have good taste."

You drew a deep breath into your lungs and slowly exhaled as you turned your head. It was him. He found you. The aura surrounding Ari seemed to glow even brighter with his touch. Oh, God. He touched you. 

"I'm Ari," he introduced himself, though you knew that. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

You mumbled your name in response when he kept his eyes on you. He repeated it, like he was tasting it on his tongue. As if he had the right. "How did you find me? You know what? It doesn’t matter. I should-”

"Did you really think I wouldn't notice you, sweetheart? Even if you weren't my soulmate, you know how to get a guy's attention."

You yanked your hand away, taking the bottle with it. The action made him smirk and you wished you could slap him. But you were afraid to touch him again. "You're not my soulmate. We don't know each other. And it's going to stay that way. I'm sorry."

He chuckled as if you told him a hilarious joke. "Let me pay for that."

"No thanks," you said, trying to walk around him. You gasped when he gently grabbed your arm to stop you, that current running through you again. Was it like that for everyone? How could they stand it?

"You already feel it," he whispered. 

You wanted to deny it, but he would see through the lie. "I need to go. My boyfriend is waiting for me."

"Leave him."

You chuckled this time at how simple he made it sound. "I'm not breaking up with him."

"Yes, you will. Or he'll break up with you, but I'm counting on you to make the right decision."

"You think you can tell me what to do because we have forced chemistry? It doesn't mean a thing. It isn't real."

Something you could only identify as deadly filled his blue eyes as he stepped closer. "You don't know the shit I've been through… What I've seen. I'm owed something."

The irrational part of you was curious and wanted to comfort him, but the real you took over. "Just because you're owed something doesn't mean I'm going to be your prize. Maybe fate was wrong. And I told you. I have a boyfriend."

"You're loyal. I respect that. But you should end it. It's only going to hurt him if you don't."

"Is that a threat?" you whispered as he brought a hand to your cheek.

"It's a promise," he whispered back. 

You stumbled back, the bottle almost slipping from your hand. "I don't want a soulmate, so stay the hell away from me," you snapped as you walked away. You knew better than to push, but you stopped and looked back. "You know, I can't even feel you in my mind. Maybe this whole thing really is bullshit."

Something in his smile warned you that you just began a dangerous game when you walked away. And that you were going to lose.

"You've been quiet," Luke said as he opened the bottle of wine. 

You were trying to decide how to tell him that Ari found you. It wasn't your fault, but you felt guilty. "Still tired."

"Maybe we can go to bed early," he suggested, smirking as he poured each of you a glass.

"Except I won't be sleeping," you teased, taking a sip as he handed one over. "Mmm. I needed this."

"Didn't I say you had good taste?"

The glass shattered at your feet. Your breathing picked up, trembling from head to toe. Ari's voice was like velvet in your mind, intimately brushing along the walls. A place you never invited him to, but he had the key. And you couldn't take it back. 

"Babe, you okay?" Luke asked frantically, grabbing something to clean up the mess. "Be careful. I don't want you to cut yourself."

You tried to stand still, unsure of what to say. Maybe your mind was playing tricks on you. That had to be it.

"I know you can hear me."

You didn't move until you felt Luke take your hand. His touch was familiar, but feeling his hand in yours felt… wrong. You refused to accept that. He was the one you wanted. It was your choice.

"You're scaring me. Say something," he urged. 

"Luke," you began, looking at him uneasily. 

"What is it?" he asked, brushing his thumb along your palm.

"If he doesn't stop touching you, I'll break his hand."

You ignored Ari, but the threat was there all the same. "When I went to the liquor store earlier… He was there."

Luke pulled away, your arm falling to your side. You knew he didn't mean it as a hurtful gesture, but it still felt that way. "Did he touch you?"

You flinched at the accusatory tone. "Yes, he did and I'm sorry."

He searched your face, as if he was trying to see through you. "So, you can hear him? He can talk to you?"

You nodded. You weren't going to lie about it.

"Why didn't you tell me as soon as you got home?" 

The accusatory tone again made you angry. "What was there to tell? I told him I have a boyfriend and that soulmates are bullshit. My life is still mine and that's that."

"But he's in your mind now!" he snapped, tapping his temple with his index finger. "You can't just… shut him out!"

"Yes, I can!" you shouted, taking a breath to calm down. "I don't want to fight."

His shoulders slumped as he pulled you into his arms. "Neither do I."

"I love you. This doesn't change anything."

"Oh, sweetheart. It changes everything."

You knew Luke couldn't hear him, but you already felt him slipping through your fingers.

You groaned when Luke held a shirt up from the rack. "No. Absolutely not."

"What? I think this would look good on me," he smiled.

"I wouldn't wipe my ass with that," you joked.

"That's good because I'm wiping my ass with it," he said without skipping a beat.

You burst out laughing as you took it from his hand and put it back. "No. That's a deal breaker," you teased before your smile fell. 

"It's okay, babe. I won't buy the shirt," he promised when you looked around.

"No, it's…" you had that feeling again. Only it wasn't a chill any longer. It was like a blazing fire.

"See someone you know?"

As if on cue, Ari walked into the store. He looked like a predator on the hunt and you couldn't tear your gaze away. It wasn't fair how handsome he was or the fact the power clung to him like a second skin. And the smirk he gave you as he walked your way sent a spike of arousal so sharp your knees almost buckled.

"That's him," you whispered, your heart pounding as you reached for Luke's hand. Instead of taking it, he grabbed your arm instead and pushed you behind him. The protective gesture brought a soft smile to your face.

Ari stopped in front of you and you took a moment to compare the men. Luke wasn't a small guy or easily intimidated, but Ari looked like he could eat him alive. He also looked like he had wanted to toss you over his shoulder like a caveman and take you away.

"You must be the boyfriend," Ari said smoothly. 

"Luke. And you must be her… Oh, wait. Nothing. You're nothing to her."

The words shocked you and filled you with a sense of pride.

Ari smirked as he took a step closer. "End it."

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Luke asked.

"I'm her soulmate," he replied confidently. "And I promise it will be much less painful if you just walk away. And if you don't? I'll bust down your door and fuck her right in front of you. Just so you can see how good she should feel before I get rid of you myself."

Blood rushed to your cheeks. Hearing that made you furious, but it didn't stop the image from filling your mind. Your body pinned beneath his, taking everything he gave you, until you screamed.

"You son of a-"

"Stop!" you demanded before they came to blows. "Ari, please. You can't just interfere in our lives. You have to understand that."

Ari's gaze softened surprisingly as it swept over you. "Don't make me do something to him you won't forgive me for."

You swallowed as his voice lingered in your mind. "Please, go."

“Get your stuff and get out. I’ll know if you don’t. Consider that your warning," he said, turning to walk away. You hated the way your eyes followed his frame and the way your heart ached with each step he made.

"We'll be fine," Luke assured you once he was gone. "What could he possibly do?"

"Morning, sweetheart."

Every morning for the last three mornings, the moment you opened your eyes, you were greeted with Ari's deep voice in your mind. And, every morning, you ignored him. You admitted to yourself that it wasn't easy. The natural pull made you want to answer him. 

"Are you getting enough rest? You need your strength."

"When you move in with me, I expect us to have breakfast together. Work can keep me busy, but I won't neglect you."

"We'll have to go shopping together. I want this to feel like your home."

It was always a combination of things. What he wanted to do to you, how he saw your lives together. He always made sure you were taking care of yourself, which didn't make sense to you. He had to know you weren't resting well. Maybe the arrogant asshole was taunting you. 

Oh, you picked up quickly that he was arrogant.

"I woke up so hard thinking about you. Are you wet? I know you're thinking of me. I can feel it."

"This shower would be better if you were in here with me. Your cries would sound so pretty when I bend you over."

"You'll be addicted to my cock. You'll wonder how you went so long without it."

Luke tried not to worry when he saw your strained smile as you both got ready each day, but it was all over his face. Truthfully, you were worried, too. It was a distraction. You weren't sure how much longer you could ignore him. And his words were getting to you. 

When you looked to the future, Luke's face was no longer there. It was a blur. But the focus was slowly shifting to Ari. You tried not to think ahead. You didn't want to see in your mind what your heart was fighting. 

"Let's call in," you suggested as Luke poured his coffee. 

"I can't today. I'm in meetings all day."

"Are you sure? We can go shopping. See a movie. Stay in," you ticked off, giving him a small smile.

Luke set his mug down. "You really want to call in?" he asked suspiciously. "You never skip work. What's going on?"

"What do you mean?"

"Is it…" he trailed off, touching his temple. 

"We talked about this. I'm fine," you brushed off.

"No, you talked about it," he argued. "You keep saying you're fine, but he isn't leaving your head, is he?"

"No, he isn't, but I'm ignoring him. I haven't answered him at all."

"And how's that working out for you?" he asked, crossing his arms.

"It's fine, like I said. I thought you were on my side. You said we'd be fine," you reminded him. And you had believed him. 

"I am on your side, but ignoring him isn't the answer.”

"Then what do you suggest?" you pressed. Because you certainly didn't know what to do.

Luke contemplated before he grabbed his phone. "I'll see if I can conference in from here. I don't want you here by yourself. You take the day off and try to get some sleep. We'll figure this out."

"Thank you," you whispered, getting your own phone to message your boss.

"I'll keep the door shut so the noise doesn't bother you," he said, kissing your forehead before he made his call.

You groaned as you flopped back on your bed a few minutes later. Thankfully, your boss was understanding and you had more than enough personal time saved up. Maybe Luke was right. Sleep would help and your head would be clear.

"Skipping work, huh?"

You groaned again. Of course, he knew. God, how did others stand someone being in their minds? The strange thing was, it didn't feel bad with him. That pissed you off because it shouldn't have felt good.

"Talk to me."

You closed your eyes, seeking out the link. You weren't sure what you were doing, but instinct took over. "Ari, you need to stop this."

"You have a beautiful voice."

The compliment made you heart somersault before you could stop it. "Thank you."

"So tell me what's so bad about being mine."

"That right there. You think I'm yours. You feel as if you have some kind of claim on me when you don't. I built a life for myself and I don't want to live depending on another. I know that isn't fair to you and I'm sorry."

"I built a life for myself, too, but I'm adapting so you can be part of it. We can adjust to this together, but you have to give me something to work with."

You sighed as you pinched the bridge of your nose. "I can't. I'm sorry."

“Don’t you feel empty, too, being apart from me?”

One of the bitter things about soulmates was the distance. Too much time apart, especially denying the bond, made it harder. “I’m not talking about this anymore. You need to try and forget about me.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you.”

"There are plenty of others out there."

"They aren't you, sweetheart. They'll never be you. Trust me. I tried to fuck you out of my heart before I even met you. All it did was make me feel empty. And now that I have you, you think I want to let you go?"

Your gut twisted at his words. "You don't have me."

"But I will and it's going to feel so good.”

You inhaled sharply, your heart beating faster. “Please, don’t say anything else.”

"Just imagine it, sweetheart. On my knees in front of you, slowly peeling down your soaked panties. Oh, we both know you'd be drenched and twitching for me."

Your pussy clenched as an image of him looking up at you, his pupils blown, flashed behind your eyes. "Ari."

"Fuck, I can practically taste you on the tip of my tongue. So sweet. So wet."

You gasped, swearing that you felt his tongue lick a strip along your folds. Fuck, you felt his beard, too. How was that possible? "Stop."

"But the first time I really make you come will be on my cock," you could hear the gravel in his voice. "You're going to say my name when you do. And when I fill MY sweet cunt, you'll know in your fucking soul that you. Are. Mine." 

You almost reached between your legs to relieve the ache, but you gripped the sheets instead. "Ari, stop!"

"That's not what you really want. You know what you want more than to be wrecked by my cock? You want to feel whole. I'm the only one who can do that."

You wanted to scream in defiance. Or burst into tears. There were cracks in your heart that you didn’t know existed, but what did he have to fill them?

"Believe it or not, I actually admire your will. I'm not trying to break it. But we'll see how much longer you last."

You took off the rest of the week and couldn't find it in your heart to feel bad. Not with the images that refused to leave your mind no matter how hard you tried to block them out. You scrubbed the counter, unable to stay still as you tried to distract yourself. Adrenaline continued to surge through your veins as you finished, moving to the next task. 

You used to pride yourself on your resolve, but maybe you were weak. How else could you explain how easily and quickly you were breaking down? You wiped your hands when you heard the front door open, rushing to see Luke. He was there. He was real.

"Hey, babe. I thought I'd come home early and-"

You pressed your mouth to his, not giving him a chance to breathe. "Bed," you ordered as he picked you up. 

"I really need to talk to you," he tried as you kissed along his jaw.

"Bed," you said again.

He groaned as he carried you, not questioning what had gotten into you. Not even a minute later, you were tossed on the bed. Luke crawled up your body, his mouth finding yours again as pinned you down. You reached down and popped open the button of his pants as you kissed him deeper, making him gasp when you unzipped them and pushed them down as far as you could.

"Babe, we can go slow," he offered, sitting up a bit when you hiked up your shirt.

"Just fuck me," you hissed desperately, pushing your underwear down. You could talk later. "Please, just fuck me," you begged in a softer tone, reaching for him when he took himself out of his underwear. 

Luke was always good to you with foreplay, making sure you were ready. But you saw the lust in his eyes from your demand as he settled between your thighs. There was something else there that almost made you pause. Why did it look like his heart was breaking? He slid his hands beneath your ass to lift you before you could think more on it, the head of his cock rubbing against your slick hole, before he slid in. 

You moaned as you closed your eyes, putting your hands on his shoulders to keep you steady. The familiar stretch had you clenching around him and you wondered just how quickly it would take for you to get off. The broken whimper you let out made him groan as he pressed you further into the mattress.

"I love you so much," his voice cracked as he thrust deeper.

"I love you, too."

His mouth found your neck as he rocked his hips, his beard making you shiver as it scratched your skin. Your eyes flew open as your nails dug into Luke's skin because he didn't have a beard. "Luke," you gasped.

He moaned your name as you looked up at him, but his eyes were shut in ecstasy. You blinked and you saw Ari above you, staring right into your eyes. You felt him in you. Blinking again, it shifted back to Luke. Your body went lax beneath his as you squeezed your eyes shut.

"How badly do you need to come, sweetheart?"

The hands that moved to your hips felt different. It wasn't the touch you knew, but it was the touch you craved. It terrified you. You dared to open your eyes again and all you saw was Ari. Your soulmate. Bringing you higher and higher.

"Please."

"Come. Give him one last treat."

You couldn't stop your body from seizing, crying out from your release. You didn't give yourself a chance to enjoy it as the image fell away, shoving Luke off of you as you tried to catch your breath. He called after you as you rolled from the bed and bolted to the bathroom. You barely had a chance to shut and lock it before you went to the toilet, retching.

The pounding at the door seconds later didn't even make you look up. "Babe, are you sick?" he asked, trying the handle. "Please, let me in."

"Be right out!" you called, gagging again as you began to cry. How could you face Luke when you thought about Ari? When you felt him? How could you tell him you came because of another man? 

"He'll get over it."

"Shut up! Shut UP!"

"He will. He knows he's losing you. He lost you before he even had you. And he has his own soulmate out there. You do realize you're hurting them, too?"

You got to your feet, your stomach still rolling as you went to rinse your mouth. "Please, leave me alone. Please.”

"It hurts when you reject me. I know you can't stop thinking about me. I know you ache for me. I ache for you, too."

You wiped your eyes, looking in the mirror. You looked worn out. "I mean it, Ari. Stay the hell away from us and stay out of my mind."

"All this hurt and pain for what? Giving fate the middle finger just so you can say that you're right? Guess what, sweetheart? You're wrong. And I am fucking tired of you denying me. So… fucking tired."

You rubbed your arms as a chill rolled down your spine. The soft growl in his soft voice was enough to intimidate you, which angered you because you didn't owe him a thing. You stubbornly clung to that.

"I'll see you soon."

*****

Luke sat on the sofa with you, not speaking for a few minutes after you told him what happened. You felt sick seeing the look of betrayal on his face. "Do you love him?"

"What?! No. How could you ask me that?" you asked. "I love you."

"But you're thinking of him. You're seeing him," he said, putting his face in his hands. "I've seen others fall apart. I didn't think it would happen to us."

"Falling apart? It hasn't even been a week since we saw him at the store."

"And look at you!" he shouted as he lifted his head, making you move back. "You're skipping work. You're thinking of him when we're sleeping together. You realize it's only going to get worse, right?"

Your lip trembled as you shook your head. "No. We love each other. That's enough to make it work."

Luke stood up, slowly pacing back and forth. "Except it isn't enough."

"Yes, it is," you said, standing up to take his hand. 

"No, it isn't," he said, stepping back before you could touch him. "That's why I came home early."

"Why?" you whispered when he wouldn't look you in the eye. "Why?!"

"Because I’m saying we're done," he whispered, tears in his eyes as he finally looked at you. "I love you. I do, but… I can't do this. Neither can you."

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. "You don't mean that."

"Yes, I do," he said with a finality that broke your heart. 

"Did something happen?" you asked, tears clogging your throat when he shook his head. Was that why he looked so heartbroken in bed? Because he knew he would walk away? "I don't want to lose you or what we have. Please."

"I'll stay somewhere else for the next few days until we can get this sorted,” Luke sniffled, like he was trying to hold himself together. "I'm thankful I had you as long as I did. And I know love exists because of you. I'm always going to cherish that."

You let the tears flow freely. You two were supposed to beat fate. But was this the path all along?  "So, that's really it. You're done with us?"

Luke took cautious steps toward you, placing a kiss on your forehead. “I’m sorry,” he said against your skin, walking around you as you crumpled to the floor. 

Sobs wracked your frame as you tried to process what just happened. It felt like another bad image in your mind, but the sound of the door slamming shut made you cry harder. He walked away. Was it your fault?

You cried until your head hurt, not lifting yourself from the floor when you stopped. You expected to feel Ari’s voice brush in your mind, but you didn’t hear anything. There was no warmth. No comfort. Nothing.

“Ari?” 

You were met with silence. That was what you wanted all along. So why did it feel like your heart broke all over again?

A knock at the door made you open your eyes. You pulled yourself up, cracking your neck. Sleeping on the floor wasn’t your brightest idea, but you were too hurt to care. You didn’t even check your reflection before you went to open it.

You felt the warmth before you saw Ari on the other side. You wanted to bask in it. As he stepped inside, making you step back, you wanted to know why he was there. And how he found you. But he was your soulmate. He would always know where you were and when you would need him.

"Are you happy?" you asked. “He left. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

When Ari didn't respond you shoved his chest. It was like pushing a wall of pure muscle as he stared with that stoic expression. You tried again and he didn't budge, your anger surging.

"Damn you! And fuck you!" you shouted, your mental walls crumbling to rubble. "You ruined everything! Because of you, I lost the man I lo-"

Ari gripped the back of your head before you could finish the word, crushing his lips against yours in a bruising kiss. He bit down on your bottom lip, dragging it between his teeth. His tongue followed, slipping into your mouth as you gasped. The dam broke completely as the taste of bittersweet sorrow was forever committed to your memory.  

"Don't say his fucking name and don't you dare you say you love him. I'm going to spend all weekend fucking him from your memories until all you know is me."

The distinct sound of fabric tearing hit your ears, your breasts spilling free from the ruined shirt. “What are you-”

“You were soaked the moment you saw me. Don’t deny it,” he snarled, your panties joining the torn shirt on the floor.

You felt his hunger and it fueled your own. His need filled your mind until it was all that you felt. It was manipulative. It was euphoric. The desire that only a soulmate could fulfill.

“He’s gone, but I’m here. He gave up on you, but you have me.”

His hands explored you as he sought the silken heat of your mouth again. Every touch lit a fire under your skin. You leaned into it, wanting it branded on your skin. Your heart began to piece itself back together as much as you wanted to wallow in the pain.

“Doesn’t it feel good to give in? To know that you have someone who will never let you go?”

“I don’t love you,” you argued as he stripped down. Why weren’t you stopping him? Why did you want to see all of him?

“You’ll learn to love me. Unlike you, I took the time to explore your mind. Because I never left.”

You trembled as you saw his muscles ripple. He really was built like a god. And you knew he was there in your head. He would always be there.

“I love you with everything I have,” he swore, his hands finding your breasts with ease. They ached and swelled as you pushed against his palms. It was like your body wasn’t your own. “And I’m not letting you go.”

Your throat tightened as he took you to the floor, like the bed was too far away. Fighting this bond ruined the life you had. You knew you would never have it back. With Ari hovering over you, you felt ruined all over again because you needed him. You couldn't stop the tears that filled your eyes and you didn't care if they made you look weak. You had never felt so helpless in your life, but he was there to anchor you.

“Do you remember what I said?” he asked as he slapped his hard cock against your pussy. The feel made you jolt. Would he tear you in half with it? As much as you feared the pain, you knew your body would accept him. “You’re going to scream my name when you come on my cock. That’s a fucking promise.”

He surged forward and sheathed you in one, deep thrust. You cried out in protest, even as your body molded to his. He gripped your chin when you tried to look away, making sure your eyes were focused on him. 

“Relax, sweetheart. You were made for me.”

His hips rolled once some of the tension left your body, his grip sliding to your neck. Your pulse beat frantically as he surged in and out, feeling him squeeze gently before he let go. Each movement drove out the terrible longing you felt. Your back was likely to be sore later from how he was taking you, but you didn’t care.

“I would have made our first time beautiful if you let me. Gentle. Tender. But you’re fucking stubborn. And this is just as good.”

He pulled back until only the head of his cock was inside you, snapping his hips to bury himself into your wet heat. He repeated the motion as you shouted, a dark smirk on his handsome face. Your arms slipped around his neck, keeping him close as he thrust deep. You shuddered as your eyes rolled back, your hips moving restlessly against his. 

"There you go, sweetheart. Your pretty little hole is hungry for my cock. Knew you’d take me so well.”

“Fuck!” you cried, your body humming in undeniable pleasure. You felt him in your heart, mind, body and soul. He was everywhere. You’d never get him out. And, after having a taste, your soul didn’t want to let him go.

“You’re mine, do you understand me?” he grunted as you tried to meet his thrusts.

“Yes,” you moaned, shuddering again. The countless, perfect thrusts had you clenching rhythmically around him. A hand reached up to grab his hair, unsure if you wanted to make him groan in pleasure or pain. 

“Say you’re mine,” he growled, licking his thumb before he reached between your bodies. You nearly sobbed when he found your clit. “Say it.”

“I’m yours!” you shouted, seeing him flash a smirk again as he rubbed the swollen bundle of nerves. “Please.”

“Please what?” 

“Cocky bastard,” you thought. 

“Heard that. You know what you need. Just say it.”

���Please, let me come!” you begged, your head falling back as the last word ended on a choked breath.

“Come on my cock and say my name, sweetheart,” he said, pinching your clit.

You screamed his name, nearly sobbed it, as you arched and clutched at him. It was the most powerful orgasm of your life, the aura around Ari exploding in colors you didn’t know existed. Your cunt sucked him in to the point it was almost painful to keep him there, but your body refused to let him go.

“That’s my girl. Fuck, you drenched me. Trying to drown me with your beautiful pussy. Never letting you go.”

You were pliant as you lay there, your body still buzzing as he lost his rhythm and rutted into you. The warm splash on your insides moments later was like the final balm you needed, his moan of pleasure sealing the fate you denied. You were complete. And you knew he was, too.

You shook again as you clung to him, trying to catch your breath. You felt the link from your mind spread everywhere, irrevocably tying the two of you together. The intensity almost smothered you. He rubbed your side soothingly as he kissed over to your ear, panting gently against it. “Who do you belong to?”

“You,” you whispered.

“And I’m yours. Don’t forget that.”

Barely a week. That was all it took to make you forget Luke and wear you down.

Ari studied you later as you slept, smiling to himself as he touched your cheek. He leaned over to check his phone when he knew you wouldn’t stir, dialing one of his contacts. “Where is he?” 

“Checked into a hotel. We have eyes on him.” “Keep it that way,” Ari said, looking down at you again. “Remember, if he comes back this way before we’re gone, kill him and his family.”

“Consider it done. Though I would think the visit we paid him at his office would have been enough to scare him away for good. But, Ari, are you sure you still want him alive?” 

Ari smirked a little. “She thinks he gave up on her and he’s going to have to carry that around the rest of his life. Each time he looks at his family, it’ll be a reminder of what he let go of. And he knows she’s really mine because he was too much of a coward to actually fight for her.”

“You really are a cruel bastard.”

“I know, but I warned him. He should have let go when he had the chance,” he chuckled, wrapping a leg around you to keep you close. “And my girl really is special. She’ll adjust.”

“And if she doesn’t?”

“Then I’ll make her. She’s my soulmate, after all.”

[saiyanprincessswanie]

You Will Love Me

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Word Count: 2546

Warnings: Possessive Ex-husband, Kidnapping, Non/Dub-con, Oral (F - receiving), unprotected smut, light bondage, forced orgasm, fingering, cussing

Summary: After your divorce, you decided to leave New York behind and head to a small town in Montana to start over. On a cool, autumn afternoon you head out to the flea market in search of items for your place. There you stumble upon a man selling paintings and drawings. Something doesn’t feel right about him. He seems familiar to you. What happens when your past comes back into your life and doesn’t want to let you go?

The is for @stargazingfangirl18​ 5K Soft Dark Challenge. Congrats on the 5K followers! Quote is in bold.

Thank you to @music-culture-mythology​ & @bxccxdxll​ for beta reading this for me. Divider by @whimsicalrogers​

A/N: DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 YEARS OLD.

Reblogs & Comments on Tumblr are welcomed and encouraged. 😊💜

I do NOT give my consent to have my work translated or reposted on any social media platform, apps or third party sites. If you see my work anywhere else besides my personal Tumblr & AO3 accounts then it has been stolen. I will NEVER give written or verbal permission to repost or translate any of my fanfics as they’re MY intellectual property. 🚫🚫

Today was supposed to be the start of a new life without the overbearing husband you once had. As soon as the divorce was finalized with your reluctant ex, you packed your car and left New York. How foolish of you to think that you could get away from him. No matter how far you traveled fear consumes your mind that he would find you. 

Steve Rogers was America’s golden boy and a hero to the world. But behind closed doors, he was anything but that. Steve was possessive, controlling every aspect of your life and finances. It got to the point you couldn’t see your friends or family without him by your side. Of course, the ones you loved dearly saw no harm in Steve. This played to his advantage when you wanted to leave him. No one could understand why you would ruin a perfect relationship. They blamed you for the failed marriage as Steve could do no wrong in their eyes. This is why you left everyone behind and never looked back.

You headed out west and finally came across the small town of Whitefish in Montana. The town had a population of over seven thousand people. It was known as a resort town where people came to ski in the wintertime or go hiking in the Glacier National Park. You never expected to settle down here with people constantly coming and going, but the sight of the mountains and beautiful lake drew you in. 

There was so much to do in the area that you never had to worry about being bored like you were in New York. Hiking, biking trails, and kayaking on the lake were just some of your favorite things to do. Today, you found yourself wandering the flea market on a cool autumn afternoon. The people in this town were friendly and made light conversation as you walked from booth to booth.

You found yourself approaching a booth with a man in his thirties surrounded by beautiful drawings. Your eyes scanned the different sceneries that were sketched from the area. The drawings were so well done it was as if someone had taken a picture.

“See anything you like?” The man asked.

You looked up at the man in front of you. He was definitely handsome up close and his smile was friendly. “There are so many amazing drawings and paintings.” Your eyes caught one painting in particular of the mountains that you have come to know so well. The colors of the fall trees that sat below it made you think back to the New England fall leaves. “I think this one would look great in the house.”

The man nodded his head. “This one is my favorite. It reminds me of back home.”

You handed him the money that the price showed on it. “Oh, where are you from?” 

He took the money from you and chuckled. “I'm originally from back east but came out here to escape the craziness of city life. How about yourself?”

A hesitant giggle escaped your lips. “Um, same here. I was needing a fresh start and this place captured my heart.” You went to pick up the large painting when he stopped you from lifting it. 

“Tell you what, how about I hold onto this until you are done looking around. Then I can help load this into your vehicle for you.” His blue eyes stared back into yours and an odd feeling came over you. 

“You don’t have to do that…”

“It’s not a big deal,” he interrupted. 

Mentally you were at war with yourself. Those blue eyes reminded you of Steve but clearly, this wasn’t him. The people in this town were always so kind and helpful. This man was just trying to be nice. “Okay, as long as you don’t mind. I will be done in another hour.”

“Sounds good sweetheart. I’ll be here when you get back.” You nodded at him before turning and walking back to view the other vendors.

The clouds from overhead started to darken as you continued to walk around the market. Within minutes the rain started to fall gently from the sky. You started to make your way back to the gentleman who was selling his art so you could get it to your car before it was ruined. When you showed up at his table all the paintings and drawings were gone. Where could he have gone?

As the rain picked up more a voice startled you. “Hey, there sweetheart. Sorry to frighten you.” 

Taking a breath you tried to get your breathing under control. “It’s okay. Did you sell out of your work?”

The man chuckled. “I wish. I saw the storm coming in and decided to pack it up for the day so it didn’t get ruined. I have yours in my van so it would stay dry. Are you done for the day?”

“Yeah, I’m done. I just picked up a few odds and ends. But I’m ready to grab the painting if that’s alright with you?”

“Of course it is. This way doll.” The pet name caused a chill to run down your spine as you followed after him. Every red flag tried to pop into your mind. It told you not to follow him but your legs kept carrying you further away from the people at the market and into the parking lot. The van that he was leading you to just so happened to be parked by your car. He looked back at you and smiled gently. Your stomach flipped from the nerves that were starting to build more as you got closer to the van. He opened the sliding door and put a knee on the inside. “Just need to slide this out. I’m going to need your help.” You kept walking closer. It felt like this was going to be a death sentence but as you got to his side you saw that the painting was stuck. You released a breath of relief as you leaned inside to help maneuver it. 

As soon as you were halfway inside the van his left arm wrapped around your waist, he pulled you inside and shut the door with his right hand. You instantly started to fight against him but he was too strong for you to overpower. As you continued to kick out and struggle against him you felt a quick prick to your neck. Slowly you started to lose feeling in your limbs and the fight finally left your body. Your eyes started to flutter as you fought to stay awake. The man placed you on your back and watched your struggle. His hand goes to his neck and you watch in horror as a hologram face was pulled off revealing Steve underneath. He was sporting a beard that you once loved to run your fingers through. A sinister smile graced his face. “I told you I would find you.” Those were the last words you heard before you lost consciousness.

You slowly open your eyes and glance around the room. How in the hell did you get to this bedroom? Your anxiety kicks up as you realize your hands are bound to the headboard and you are left in only a bra and panties. “No, no this can’t be happening. Someone, anyone! Help me!” You try to pull at the bindings but it is no use, you’re not going anywhere.

Footsteps are heading to the room as tears fill your eyes. Your mind brings you back to how you found yourself in this predicament. The man who sold you the painting was Steve in disguise. You knew something was wrong and against your better judgment, you still followed him. “Scream all you want, doll, no one is going to hear you. This place is soundproof.” He stalks into the room and takes in your state of undress. He licks his lips as his eyes rake over your form. 

Your teary eyes watch him as he discards his shirt and jeans, leaving him in only his black boxer briefs. Even with time apart from him, he still looks devilishly handsome. His arms flex as he sits on the bed next to you. “I’ve thought a lot about you since that divorce was finalized. Thought about how to win you over again. When you ran all the way out here I was mad at first but then I realized something. We won’t have to worry about the media interfering with our relationship like last time. You won’t be able to spit those lies about me again to gain sympathy.”

“They weren’t lies Steve. You were controlling, mean, possessive. I mean look at what you are doing now!” Your face snapped to the side as your cheek exploded from the pain of being hit. A whimper escaped your lips as you knew you pissed him off.

“Dammit, why do you make me do things like that?” He asked as his hand gently turned your face to look at him. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have lost my temper. I’ve been doing so well at controlling it and then you had to open your mouth like that. Look, I know our marriage wasn’t perfect. I will admit I could have done things better. That’s why we are going to start over now. Clean slate.” Steve climbs on top of you, rips your bra and panties off your body leaving them in tatters on the ground. You try to wiggle your lower half away from him as he kisses his way down your stomach.

“Please, don’t do this.” You try to sound like you don’t want this but you feel yourself growing wet from him kissing your skin sensually. 

His hands firmly push your thighs apart and you feel his finger gently brush against your wet folds. “Seems to me you are enjoying yourself. Did you already forget how good I can make you feel?”  His warm tongue runs through your wet folds and up to your clit making you sigh from the contact. Steve smirks to himself as he knows you won’t last long. He begins to eat your pussy like a man starved. Every flick of his tongue, suck of your clit brings you higher and higher. You try to fight off the building orgasm but Steve knows just what your body needs. He has always been able to play it like a fine-tuned instrument. Steve inserts two of his fingers into your pussy and lightly makes a come hither motion. Your breathing picks up as you bite your lip refusing to give him what he wants. “Stop being so damn stubborn and cum for me.” His lips latch onto your clit and he lightly sucks the pearl into his mouth while his fingers work you. That was all you needed to make you cry out your orgasm for him. 

Steve pulls away from you, licking your arousal off his lips and fingers. You could see his beard was glistening from your release. Quickly Steve removed his boxer briefs and stroked his hard cock a few times. “God I can’t wait to be inside you again.” Sitting back on his ankles he lifts your hips and runs his cock through your wet pussy a few times. Once he is covered in your arousal he grabs his cock, placing the tip at your entrance and sinking into you. Steve groans from the feeling of your pussy hugging him tightly. “Still as good as the first time.” He rolls his hips and sets a soft, slow pace. His hands are on your hips holding you just the way he wants so his cock can stroke that spot that makes you see stars. Steve can tell you are trying to fight it but this is a losing battle for you. “It’s okay to enjoy this sweetheart. I know you are by the way you’re gripping me tightly.”

Fresh tears fall from the corner of your eyes as he starts to pick his pace up. He really does know every spot within you that drives you wild. A choked moan escapes your lips on a particularly hard thrust. There was no fighting this, all you could do was let him take what he wants. If you let him use you maybe he would let you go. Another moan tore through you as he fucked into you harder.

“That’s it doll. I knew you wanted this. Fuck.” His hips snapping harder into you as your mewls filled the room. His right-hand leaves your hip and moves between your bodies. You feel his thumb start rubbing your pearl. Your orgasm is building so quickly that your moans grow higher pitched. 

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing but at that moment it didn’t matter. All you wanted was to feel that release that only he could give you. “Please…” It was the only thing you could say at the moment as he took you apart piece by piece. 

“Since you asked so sweetly,” Steve growled out as he pounded into you making the headboard bounce off the wall with every thrust into you. With a sharp snap of his hips, he found your spot that made you see stars. You moaned as your second orgasm washed over you, making your whole body tremble. Steve pulled out, released you from the wrist bindings, and flipped you onto your stomach. His hands grasped your hips and pulled you to your knees. Steve pushed back into you and chased his release. “Tell me you’re mine.” He pulls your body against his, hand wrapped around your throat. His panting is hot against your ear as he quickened his pace.

“I-I’m yours, Steve.” You can no longer fight him. He was right, a part of you did want this and at this moment you let him take what he wanted. Harder and faster he fucked you until you felt his hips start to falter. A few hard thrusts had him coming deep inside you as he moaned your name to the heavens. Steve pulled out of you and you both collapsed on the bed. You shuttered as you felt his cum leaking out of your pussy. The thought of being pregnant with his kid made you feel sick to your stomach. 

Steve laid on his back and pulled you close to him, resting your head on his chest. He could feel you trembling against him as your warm tears fell against his skin. “It’s going to be okay doll. We are going to start over and I’m going to get you pregnant. We’ll have the family we always wanted.” He tilted your head to look at him. “Hey, I’m doing this for us. I love you so much.”

Staring into his blue eyes you whispered, “But I don’t want this Steve. I can’t love you again.”

Steve kissed your forehead. “Shhh, sweet girl, it’s okay, I promise you’ll learn to love me.” He held you tight, leaving you to your thoughts. You would never be able to run from him. This was your life now and there was no running from this monster ever again.

[cockslutpadalecki]

‘Til Death Do Us Part

Summary: Y/N heads back to the home she once shared with Steve in preparation to spend one last night together before their divorce is due to be finalised. Little does she know that her husband doesn’t intend to give her up. Ever.

Characters: Dark!Steve x Reader.

Words: 3391.

Warnings: non-con, dub-con, explicit sexual content, mentions of drugging, manipulation, gaslighting, implied forced pregnancy, slight breeding kink, forced orgasms, multiple orgasms, mentally abusive relationship tw, 18+.

A/N: Written for @stargazingfangirl18​​‘s amazing 5K Soft!Dark Challenge. I chose dialogue prompt #3 (”Oh, honey, you weren’t supposed to see that”) and it is highlighted in bold. Siri, I can’t tell you how much of a blast it was to write this! Thank you so much for hosting, and many congratulations on your 5K milestone - you deserve every single one of them. Beta: @sweeterthanthis​​ but all the general bullshit is entirely mine. I also have to thank you Lau for being the greatest support and enabler. You are truly a ray of sunshine on a stormy day. While likes are gold, feedback is golden. Masterlists can be found in my pinned post. Subscribe to Patreon and get access to fics, just like this one, two weeks before Tumblr for as little as $3.

Somehow you expect the family home to look different in a way— like the roof should be sporting some devil’s breath while the ground suddenly gives way to brimstone as a way of signifying its metaphorical descent into hell, but as you step from the cab straight onto the sidewalk, it looks the same as you left it four months ago.

Sure, there’s leaves blocking the gutter, the bushes leading up to the porch look a little unruly and the lawn could do with a trim, but really they’re only surface deep differences, ones you probably never would have noticed had you stayed put.

The real change you figure, would be inside, buried within the woodwork like rot, much like the person residing inside it, a malevolent kind of darkness laying claim to their soul.

The house still looks like something plucked right out of a fairytale, its entire presence cosy and inviting. You just wish you hadn’t been the one to abandon it.

Memories flood your thoughts— you could recall the day you moved in like it was yesterday, just like the moment Steve proposed to you on the front porch, and that first step across the threshold as a married couple will live with you until the day you die, no matter how hard you do your best to block it out.

Pushing open the white gate, you take a slow walk up the path, each step hesitant and tentative, unsure if coming back here was the right thing to do. You need those divorce papers, your inner voice reminds you curtly. Then you can get the hell outta here and put this all behind you.

You’d been Mrs. Rogers for the better part of five years, and to begin with, it had been the perfect marriage. Steve was a model husband and lover, but over the time the cracks started to show. He became possessive and controlling, desperate to know where you were at any given time of day when you weren’t with him. He told you what you could and couldn’t eat, controlled the intake of your calories, and eventually he dictated your meals to the last crumb.

He was a master manipulator— breaking off your friendships with your nearest and dearest from right under your nose, using your own hands to chop the strings from the “puppets” he called them. But little did you know, you were Steve’s toy all along. Moulded into his perfect little wife who wouldn’t dare put a foot out of line.

It wasn’t until you had to travel for work— a situation Steve did his best to quash, that you came to your senses when a co-worker innocently commented on the unhealthy dependency you seemingly had on your husband, after calling to apologise that you hadn’t checked in with him, despite the fact you had been caught up in meetings all day.

She became concerned for you, asking you to seek help from friends and you admitted they had all drifted away, not realising you were the one to create the wedge in the first place.

That was the first piece of the jigsaw to fall from its place, until more began to slip, giving you a glimpse into the harsh reality below it.

You eventually escaped his clutches three months later.

Six weeks passed before you served the divorce papers, citing unreasonable behaviour on his part. Steve seemingly accepted them without causing a ruckus like you expected, instead only asking of you a simple request.

It had been a long day at the office the night his text came through, a renowned sense of fear clasping at your heart the minute you saw his name pop up on your phone screen. You left it an hour before you summoned up the courage to open it, the two glasses of red wine helping to steady to your nerves. You expected something malicious, but what flashed up before you was far from it.

“Come back for one last night? I’ll take you to dinner at Romanoff’s then home for a movie? It’ll be just like old times.”

While you were initially dubious, you couldn’t help feel an odd sense of nostalgia, almost wanting to relive your old date nights. Before things turned sour.

So here you are, staring up at the house you once longed to raise your children in as the front door swings open and Steve appears, rushing down the steps as a wide grin pulls at his lips.

“Oh honey, you made it,” he greets happily, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your cheek. You stiffen at his touch, desperate to push him away but you hold your nerve, instead returning his smile when he retreats. “How was the train ride?”

You’d been living in the city since the separation, eager to put as much distance between the two of you, and so far it was doing the trick.

“It was fine, thank you,” you reply politely as he reaches to take your overnight bag, turning to take two porch steps at a time. You follow nervously, unnerved by his overly kind demeanour.

“Great,” he dismisses quickly, before calling over his shoulder, “so I set up the guest bedroom for you, y’know, remember, the one across the hall from the nursery.”

He’s babbling excitedly like you’re coming home for good, and you feel like you have to interject before he’s forcing you to pick out new China patterns for the dinnerware.

“Steve—”

He glances back at you. “Hm?”

“Maybe I should stay at the hotel like we planned,” you say hesitantly, not missing the way his jaw ticks.

“Don’t you want to stay here? In our home?”

The emphasis on ‘our’ makes you wince, but you do your best to hide it. 

“It’s not that, um, I just think it might be prudent given our impending situation, that we should, maybe set some boundaries?”

Your soon-to-be-ex husband laughs, “Oh, don’t be so dramatic.”

Years ago, that almost overly confident scoff would’ve had you reeling with arousal, but now it simply fills you with dread.

-

“Are we not going to Romanoff’s now?” you call out, smoothing out your dress as you reach the bottom of the stairs, catching sight of the dinner table set with two place settings.

Steve appears from the kitchen, clutching a bottle of wine and two glasses, and smiles when his eyes land on you.

“Wow, you look... wow,” he compliments with a deep exhale.

A creeping heat blooms in the pit of your stomach, slowly weaving its way up your spine until it settles beneath the skin in your cheeks.

“Th-thank you,” you fluster.

Steve moves from where he stands, gently placing the glasses and bottle down onto the table. You step from the last stair, edging slowly towards it. You have to admire the attention to detail— the vase full of tulips in an array of colours, the stack of takeout boxes from your favourite Chinese restaurant, its emblem clear on the cardboard, and of course, the gentle soundtrack of love songs playing quietly through the sound system. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he planned this out from the start, but you quickly squash down your suspicions almost intrigued to see what else he has up his sleeve.

“So, what happened to the restaurant?” you begin to question, rounding the table as Steve lays out the cartons next to your respective places.

“What about it?”

“I thought we had a reservation there.”

You watch him move a fork with the tip of his index finger about a centimetre closer to the plate, and you can tell he’s purposely avoiding eye contact.

“Oh, I couldn’t get one,” he replies flippantly.

“I could’ve sworn you said you did.”

Steve shrugs, “Nope. Fully booked.” He finally looks up at you, brow furrowed. “I thought I told you that?”

“No, you—” you stop yourself mid-sentence, and shake your head, deciding right now is really not the time to pick an argument. “Never mind, I must’ve been mistaken.”

Steve flashes you a wide smile, and pulls out a chair for you like the gentleman that he is— was. This show might easily convince someone else he’s a good man, but it just proves to you how flawlessly he can act the part when needed. 

“C’mon sit down, food’s getting cold,” you hear him say, his voice dragging you from your temporary reverie, and you slide into it without a word.

-

Hours go by, and you hate to admit that you’re enjoying Steve’s company more than you had in years. He’s charming in all the ways you remember, and it’s difficult not to fall for it.

It starts with longing looks over the rim of wine glasses while in the midst of reminiscing about the slew of disastrous dates you’ve shared over the years. Then came the accidental touches as you both reach for a handful of popcorn from the bowl on the coffee table. And laughter soon comes naturally as you recall a particular trip to Atlantic City, remembering how the poorly cooked shellfish at an All You Can Eat had made you both sick. 

“We had some good times, didn’t we?” Steve sighs softly. 

“Yeah, we did.”

“Some pretty great times too,” he adds, and shifts closer to you, sliding his hand across your thigh. You glance up, catching his eye and before you know it, his lips slam against yours. You lose yourself in the moment, hands snaking around his neck as Steve groans into the kiss, pulling you quickly into his lap. You grind down hard, feeling the pure muscle of his thigh push against your cunt, whimpering as it rubs over your clit just right. 

His hands rove your body through your dress, one slowly coming to rest at the nape of your neck, while the other settles around your waist, using the grasp he has to help control the roll of your hips. 

“God, Y/N,” Steve moans into the juncture of your neck, and the sound of his voice suddenly brings you back to your senses. You pull away, staring down into bright cerulean before you hurriedly begin to climb off his lap.

He looks confused as you slump back onto the couch next to him, breathless. “What’s wrong?” 

“We shouldn’t,” you explain, “I mean, I don’t think this is a good idea.”

He slowly exhales through kiss-swollen lips, nodding in agreement. “No, you’re probably right.”

As you adjust the straps of your dress Steve had hastily slid from your shoulders, you watch him stand from his seat and not-so subtly rearrange his pants before grabbing the empty wine glasses from the table.

“How about one more before we call it a night?” you hear him shout as he heads back into the kitchen.

“I should go to bed,” you say firmly. “Have to get up early to get the train back, work is pretty hectic at the moment.”

You push yourself to your feet a little unsteadily, and in the process of smoothing out your dress, you catch sight of Steve pouring you another drink anyway. You’re about to protest when he returns to the living room, handing you the glass.

You put your hands up to resist. “Really, I’m fine, Steve.”

“C’mon darling, we may never see each other again after tonight. Just give me this, please?” His tone is too mirthful, too full of glee and it unnerves you.

Darling?

You sit back down, and thanks to his persistence, you now feel a little on edge. He tries to make conversation, and you do your best to humour him, but all you can summon up are one word answers and nonchalant responses.

“I’m a little insulted you’re not drinking your wine,” he suddenly announces casually. “I even made sure to get your favourite.”

Wrong.

This was white. It had been white all evening.

Red was your favourite.

Glancing down into the glass, the wine swills gently from the motion of your hand, and your eyes are drawn to an odd film on the surface of the liquid. What is that? Perhaps the glass was dirty in some way and it reacted with the alcohol?

You squint a little as if it will miraculously make your eyesight better, but without bringing it right up to your nose and drawing attention to it, you can’t be exactly sure what it is. Instead, you decide to rest the glass in your lap and hope that Steve won’t notice you’ve yet to take a sip.

Your eyes move from the centre of the glass to the outer edge, and you notice a sprinkling of white powder dusting the rim. No, that’s not... it can’t be— he wouldn’t.

Fear grips your heart like an icy vice, and your legs suddenly go numb as a horrific realisation dawns on you.

“Is something wrong?” he enquires, watching you intently from over his glass as he sips on his own.

“No, just,” — your eyes flicker down without even realising it, before they find their way back to Steve’s, and you can tell he knows you’ve noticed something is awry— “think I’ve had my share for the night.”

Leaning forward, you slide the glass back onto the coffee table, and the moment Steve’s eyes too clock the powdery substance, his demeanour changes instantly.

“Oh, honey, you weren’t supposed to see that,” he comments darkly.

You cough, clearing your throat and try your best to sound convincing. “See what?” you squeak.

The silence between you is deafening as you both weigh up when the other is likely to react. Deciding now is your moment, you jump off the couch despite the lack of feeling to your legs and attempt to flee, but Steve is too fast. His fingertips graze your ankle as he reaches for it, and you fall to the floor with a loud thud.

He grabs at your shoulder, and flips you onto your back, crawling up the length of your body on his knees, effectively caging you beneath him. You lift your arms, slapping at Steve’s biceps to fight him off as he grabs at your wrists, pinning them above your head. 

“You really thought you could walk away from me?” He leans over you, the warmth of his breath fanning across your cheek. “That you could divorce me?”

“Steve, you don’t have to do this,” you plead.

“Oh, but I do.”

“Nobody has to know this happened, I’ll just take the papers and leave.”

His laugh is quiet and mean. “You can try, but you’ll have to sieve the ashes out of the fireplace.”

You can feel the blood drain from your face at his words. 

“Please,” you implore, “just let me go.”

“Are you insane?” he scoffs. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”

Your husband shifts above you, using one knee at a time to move between your parted thighs to keep them spread while one hand keeps hold of your wrists, the other working its way down your body until it reaches the hem of your dress. 

“Why are you doing this?”

Gently, you start to sob, and for a moment you think you see a flicker of remorse in his eyes as he looks down at you.

“Because we’re meant to be together, silly. Why else?” he says in a honeyed tone, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “For better, for worse, ‘til death do us part, remember? Do our vows mean nothing to you?” 

“They did once,” you strain beneath him, “right up until you started controlling my life.” 

He lets out an airy chuckle, like you just told him the funniest joke in the world. “You’re confused, sweetheart. I did all of that to protect you, I only wanted what was best for you.” 

“Bullshit,” you spit. 

His features harden, eyes clouding over from stunning blue to inky navy. “Watch your language.”

Cold air kisses your flesh as Steve roughly tugs your dress up around your waist. You try to close your legs, however his knees are pressed so tightly to the insides of your thighs that it’s impossible. He takes a moment to glance down at your clothed pussy before letting out a deep laugh. 

“I dunno, you come here all dressed up like this,” — his fingers delicately skim under the string of the thong that’s snug against your hip— “and you really expect me not to take what’s mine?”

“I d-don’t...” you splutter, “belong to you.”

He chuckles, and brings your restrained hands down, and shoves your wedding ring in your face, the subtle diamond sparkling in the low light like a fucking traitor. 

“I think this says you do, honey.”

As you blink away the tears in your eyes, he moves your hands back above your head, the fingers of his free hand teasing the black lace of your panties, moving it to one side to allow him access. You try to wriggle up the floor, but he has you pinned too tight. Steve fumbles between your legs briefly, and the dull snap of his belt buckle releasing meets your ears. Quickly, you feel the head of his cock press hot and wet against your folds, and swallow deeply, ashamed by the pool of arousal slick between them.

“And because you’re my wife that means I can take this sweet, little cunt whenever the hell I damn well please.” 

He enters you in one, sharp thrust, your body betraying you as your walls hungrily allow for his girth. 

“That’s more like it,” he praises, rutting forward and you let out a strangled moan. “Always were a whore for my cock.”

Your words trap in your throat as he fucks you— slow,  deliberate strokes that make your thighs tremble either side of his. He knows what he’s doing, using his intimate knowledge of your body to drag every painstaking ounce of pleasure from you, whether you want it or not. He lets go of your wrists, and while the opportunity to lash out at him is strong, all your fight has evaporated. Steve suddenly shifts above you, leaning back on his haunches to prop your ass up onto his thighs. Your body reacts involuntarily at the change in depth, unsuccessfully swallowing down a scream, which merely serves to turn him on even more. 

Each thrust of Steve’s hips draws you closer to coming, and even though you try your hardest to concentrate your thoughts elsewhere, it’s no use. His thumb settles over your clit, swirling it in lazy circles as he continues to impale you on his cock.

Harder. Deeper. Faster.

Fuck, you’re not going to be able to hold on for much longer.

“Stop, Steve, please,” you beg pathetically, unable to tell if you’re begging him to leave you alone, or that you wish he’d shift his caress a millimetre to the right so that you can reach delirium.

“Are you gonna cum for me, honey? Cum for your husband like the good, little obedient wife you are?” he taunts, every swipe of his thumb coaxing you closer. 

You can feel it, right on the edge of your periphery. A slow ascent, then suddenly the coil inside you snaps, the whole room thrown off kilter as you shatter into a million rapturous pieces. 

Steve fucks you through it with levity, every euphoric wave of pleasure magnified as he hits that same sweet spot over and over until your vision whites out, and you’re coming again without warning. 

“See? See how good I make you feel,” he says as you return from your high, body still trembling around his cock. “I know you, inside and out.”

Dragging his hand away from your clit, he strokes it lovingly over your exposed stomach, and the gentleness of his touch makes you want to retch. 

“Just wait ‘til I pump a baby into this belly,” he smiles. “Then we’ll be part of each other forever.”

Your eyes widen, believing you have him foiled in his plan thanks to the bottle of pills stashed in your overnight bag, but somehow he inexplicably knows what you’re thinking, and the next words out of his mouth make your blood run cold.

“Oh sweetheart, I swapped out your birth control for vitamins months ago.” 

***

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[gotnofucks]

The Unreformed Rake

Pairing: soft!dark Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Summary: Ransom Drysdale is a notorious rake, but he seems to have taken a shine to you. When he plans to make you his, nothing would stand in his way. No is not a word he understands.

Words: 3k

Warnings: Slightly dubcon touching, fingering, semi-public touching, forced marriage hinted, 18 + Only

A/N: This is my submission to Siri’s 5k Softdark challenge. Congratulations love @stargazingfangirl18​ , you do us hoes so proud and keep our punanis so happy! I chose the prompt “Come on, just a little taste”. It’s highlighted in the text.

If your corset was a millimeter more tighter, you’d be dead. The mammas cared more about getting their daughters married off than about them making it alive through the ball. You were glad that as a second daughter you didn’t have too many eyes on you. All you had to do was let three to four men twirl you around the dancefloor to appease your mother, and then you could sit back and enjoy watching your older sister Anika try to catch a husband.

Mostly, the balls weren’t too bad. You got to meet with your friends and eat some delicious food without the constant supervision of your mother, sometimes you’d even find a decent dance partner who wouldn’t step on your toes or whose hands wouldn’t wander south of your back. You could have made it through the evening unscathed had one handsome rake not made an appearance.

The moment Lord Huge Ransom Drysdale stepped into the hall, all eyes were on him. And his were on you. He made a spectacular vision, donning the bright colours that most gentlemen stayed away from, and yet he looked more masculine than any of them. The eyes of every unwed lady followed his movements, their mothers urging them to approach him despite his reputation.

Everyone knew Huge Ransom Drysdale was a notorious rake; his stories were told at tea parties in hushed tones and often accompanied by giggles. He was proficient in the art of leaving a trail of broken hearts and stuttering men, but more than that, he was a master at getting under your skin. His eyes hadn’t left you for a moment, fixating on you and your current dance partner who was glued to your side like lichens to rock.

“You dance most marvelously Miss Y/N, would you do me the honour of the next one too?” He asked, looking smitten at you.

“Now now Allen, you wouldn’t hog Miss Y/N’s attention all for yourself, would you?” Lord Drysdale’s mocking voice carried over to you, the man walking languidly until he stood before you. “There are a number of other ladies in want of a partner, if you’d be kind enough to relent Miss Y/N’s hand to me.”

Allen bowed to him, recognizing the superior title and the man who held it. Placing a small kiss on the back of your hand, he beat a hasty retreat from you side like the coward you knew him to be. Lord Drysdale chuckled, raising a brow at you before offering you his arm. You had half a mind to turn your nose at him and storm away, but your mother would have conniptions if she learnt you said no to a Lord.

“You have a lot of nerve and no tact Your Lordship” You said in a whisper, allowing him to grip your hand and bring you closer. The music began and he spun you out gracefully before bringing you back into his body, much closer than was socially acceptable. His fingers were firm around yours, the hand on your waist tight, singeing the flesh underneath with his touch.

“You know I am a tactless bastard, that shouldn’t be news to you.” He said with a charming smile that could fool anybody but you. He put a façade better than any theater artist you knew. He led you around the other dancing bodies dexterously, not looking away from your face. After a moment, he abruptly asked, “Who were those three morons you danced with earlier? Didn’t I sent word that you must keep your dance card empty but for me?”

An appalled gasp escaped you and it was with restraint you kept yourself from bolting away from him. “Are you having me watched?”, You hissed in anger, wrinkling your forehead. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

“Of course I have people keeping an eye on you. Can’t let anything happen to my future wife.”

Because you couldn’t leave, you did the next best thing. You stepped on his toe with all your might, digging your hell into his feet until he groaned in pain. He retaliated by moving his hand from your waist to your backside, giving a firm squeeze to your ass that had you choking on a scandalized scream.

“Hugh!” You chided through gritted teeth, looking around quickly to see if someone had noticed. Amidst the sea of dancers, nobody focused on you alone, but it would be enough to ruin a lady’s reputation.

“You know that’s not what you call me.”

His blue eyes turned darker, more challenging and predatory as he leaned closer until his chest brushed against you. You struggled, trying to put distance between you as discreetly as possible but he wouldn’t give.

“Let go!” You said, digging your nails into his shoulder to no avail. The thick padding of his clothes prevented any harm.

“Say my name.”

It was an order, one that if not met would hold consequences. People thought they knew the philandering Lord Drysdale, but they had little inkling to the danger that resided just beneath the surface. You knew. Your gaze dropped away from his, head a little bowed in defeat.

“Ransom.” You whispered, and he let out a shuddering breath as if his name on your lips had taken away more from himself than from you. He wouldn’t let you address him as anything else, not you who he claimed would be wearing his ring soon.

The dance slowed to a stop, people clapping, and you pushed away from him, halfheartedly joining in the applause. Ransom stood too close, his hand on your waist still fast and you slapped it away in irritation.

“Look, just stay away from me. I don’t want mamma to see us together.” You said, weaving through the throngs of people and trying to escape him. He followed, keeping at your heels with no problem, playfully pulling at your sleeve.

“Stay away?” He scoffed, almost as if in wonder of your audacity to even demand that. “You’re gonna be Lady Drysdale soon, you need to get used to my presence. I will always be close. Very close.”

You turned on him, raising a finger and wagging it in his face. Heat was settling over your face and neck, seeping beneath your neckline and into your chest that was heaving. Ransom’s eyes trained on the rise and fall of your breast, a wolfish grin on his face as he licked his lips in appreciation and anticipation.  

“I am not going to marry you Ransom!” You yelled in a whisper, amazed at his arrogance. “You keep away from me.”

In a second his fingers encircled your wrist, pulling you away from the floor into the shadowy corners as you protested. Sweeping aside the curtains, he pushed you into an alcove, pressing you in deeper with his body as the curtains fell again to shield you from curious eyes.

“We’ll have to do something about that mouth of yours.” He hissed cruelly, caging you between his massive arms. “You can’t go around speaking to me like this.”

His face neared yours, eyes dark and dangerous as they glared into you, his mouth opening slowly. You knew what was going to happen and you turned your face at the last second, his lips finding your cheek instead. Warm breath fanned your already heated skin, a flutter of butterflies setting your nerves astray.

“Stop! This isn’t proper.” You said, squirming as Ransom refused to back away. He chuckled in derision, forcefully turning your face to his. You hated how he still looked so beautiful, despite the sneer and arrogance.

“Wouldn’t be the first time we did it. Or did you forget about those stolen moments after the lakeside picnics? What about those walks in the park where I’d press you into a bark of tree and ravish this sinful mouth? We’re long past proper my darling, and the only reason your virtue is intact is because I am affording you the dignity to keep it until our wedding night.”

Your gaze lowered in mortification, those shameful moments coming back to you as flashes behind your eyelids. He had been far too powerful, too intense to refuse. In your weakness, you’d allowed him liberties that made guilt settle like weight on your chest every time your mother bragged about your modesty to other mammas.

“That was my mistake, Ransom. I’m supposed to marry a man of impeccable standing, someone who holds everyone’s good opinion. After Anika gets herself a man, it’ll be me, and my mother would never marry me off to a rake like you.”

His chest expanded in indignation under your hands, and he held you steady as he ground himself against you. Anger, jealousy, and sheer disbelief at your words was evident in his glare, and you shivered in fear as his lips skimmed over your jaw.

“You will marry me, mamma or no mamma. There is nothing I wouldn’t do to make you mine.” He promised, eyes glinting in warning. “What’s that saying? A reformed rake makes the best husband, ain’t it?”

“You’re not reformed.” You countered, captive in his hold. A part of you that you refused to acknowledge didn’t want to leave at all.

“That’s true.” Ransom said, smirking. “I am a rake, its time I play to my reputation.”

He kissed you hard, his tongue pushing past your lips without preamble. You couldn’t help moaning into his mouth, your fingers clutching his collar for dear life, knees threatening to collapse as he kissed you like a man starved. You knew he had a talented tongue by his charming words, but there was more to it than merely speaking. He discovered you, explored you like an untouched cave and brought you back to life.

Nobody could make you feel like he did. You had no patience for conceited, blustering men, but Ransom was more than that. He was a force that overpowered your life like winds did to fallen leaves. He carried you with himself, unrelenting, persistent. He was passionate and hungry, he was obsessed. After the first time he had kissed you in the park, he promised he wouldn’t kiss anyone again. He promised he’d make you his, and that if any man tried to claim what belonged to him, it would end in a duel.

In his kiss, you felt his possessiveness. You felt his raw power and lust that had led you to sin on more than one occasion. Saying no to him was difficult, mainly because you were most yourself when with him. He gave you wings unknowingly. He gave you the freedom to rebel unknowingly. To him, it was your claiming. But hadn’t you claimed him too in one kiss? Hadn’t you transformed the rake into a marriageable sort in one kiss?

“Ransom, we can’t.” You breathed against his lips, both your mouths swollen and glistening.

“Yes we can. We will.”

His hand ventured south of your neck, dipping into your neckline and brushing against the plump swell of your breast. You sputtered, not knowing if you were urging him or objecting. He pressed you hard into the wall, trailing his lips from your neck to your chest, sucking and nibbling with utmost patience and care. You whimpered at his assault, soft mewls spilling from your mouth and you rested your head back, unable to control the heat that simmered in your core.

“There is no power in the world that can stop me from making you my wife.” He said, looking right into your eyes as he sharply pulled and tore a rip into your bodice. You screeched, thumping your fists against his chest before he gathered them in one arm and held them above your head. “This is just a preview of what will happen between us when you take my ring and name.”

Pushing away the limp fabric from your breast, his mouth enveloped your nipple in one fell swoop. You cried out in pleasure, his warmth spreading into your own body and you feared you’d burn. A fire was simmering between your legs, wet and wanting, chanting his name. His teeth gently grazed your nipple, causing you to whimper, a sound he captured in his mouth.

“Look at me.” He ordered, and you opened your eyes without having realized they were closed. The blue in his had never been darker, almost black like the night sky that swallowed down everything in its path.

“Please don’t.” You begged. “I have sisters whose reputation are tied with mine. You’ll ruin us all.”

Ransom smiled, and you gulped because he looked almost tender. As his fingers trailed down your front to gather the layers of skirt above your knees, he bumped his nose in yours. “Never. I am a Thrombey-Drysdale. I’ll take you, and I’ll save your family. Everything I own is yours.”

The look in his eyes was such that you didn’t protest as he traced your thighs, approaching the apex. He didn’t look away as he reached your moist core, nor when he found your sensitive nub and ran circles around it with his fingers. You moaned, biting your lip to stifle your voice as his breathing picked up. Your scent filled the small niche you were in, his chest digging into yours, hand buried between your legs.

A strangled cry did escape when you felt him at your weeping entrance, threatening to breach the untouched walls of your virtue. You shook your head, asking him not to cross the boundary that will change everything between you.

“Come on, just a little taste.” He urged, pressing inside with one finger. He delved in slowly, his intrusion felt against the spongy walls of your sex and you trembled. You were panting you realized, hips gyrating almost subconsciously to mirror his movements.

“Ransom” You moaned, pushing forward. You had to do something, anything. You felt about ready to combust.

“I know. I know. Look at me and remember the pleasure I can give you. Remember the love I will shower on you.”

Another finger joined the first, stretching you until it burnt. You held onto his arms, breath coming in sharp intervals as he moved in and out, the obscene sounds of your essence mixing in with your laboured breathing.

“Do you feel the fire my darling?” Ransom asked, and you nodded. He rested his forehead on yours, forcing you to meet his eyes as he sped up, the heel of his hand digging into your nub. “Look into my eyes and let go. Come, now.”

Your back arched and your pressed forward into his body, quacking in pleasure as sensations that had no name wrecked your whole body. Your teeth sank into his neck to hold in your scream, whole body vibrating and undulating in ecstasy. You remained like this until you caught your breath, sweat gathering above your lips and brow. He looked ravenously at you. He looked in awe too.

Raising his hand, he showed you his fingers soaked in your wetness and slowly he brought them to his mouth and sucked. You gulped, suddenly feeling empty as Ransom closed his eyes in the relish of your taste. When he finally looked at you again, you knew you were lost. The wolf had had his taste of blood. There was no escaping.

He kissed you slow and soft, sharing your taste with you and pulling you closer into him. It didn’t seem like he would part. For all you knew, the world had burnt away leaving only this niche in the wall intact, two people who were just learning to explore each other the only ones alive.

“Do you know, or should I say?” He asked, and you sucked in a breath. Who would have thought this day would come?

“Say it.” You answered. You knew, oh yes. But you needed to hear. You needed to watch those beautiful lips curve around words that bound you to him in something far more potent than marriage.

“I love you.” He said, sincerely, truly and with no hesitation. He loved you. Lord Hugh Ransom Drysdale loved you. Your eyes glistened with unshed tears and you stood on your toes to brush a kiss against his lips.

“I love you, Your Lordship.”

His arms came around you so strong that they felt like chains. You stayed in his embrace, disheveled and disoriented. You never expected your evening would have ended like this.

“Remember my love, then. And forgive me.” Ransom said. Before you could ask him what he meant, he threw apart the curtains that contained your sin and bared you to the world. The first person gasped aloud, and then ten more. You stood paralyzed, holding a hand against your chest to conceal the peeking flesh behind.

Ransom stood before you, nonchalant. Whispers flew around, taking the form of a vicious wind that swept across the ballroom until your mother was running towards you, scandalized. She took one look at you and staggered back, falling behind on the people who rushed forward to help.

“You – no. It couldn’t be.” She sobbed, holding a hand to her heart as if asking it to stay inside. You couldn’t say anything, shame written on every part of you. Ransom cleared his throat before looking at you softly, uncaring of others who gossiped when his lips pressed on your forehead.

“I plan to do right by Miss Y/N.” He announced, removing his coat and draping it around you. Pulling you out from the alcove, he put an arm around you and tugged you at his side. He glanced at you mother who was on the verge of fainting, a small tilt to his lips. “Madam, with your blessings, I would like to wed your daughter and make her an honest woman.”

You hid your face into his chest, not bothering to see your mother’s response. He had compromised you. He had ruined you. Ransom Drysdale didn’t take a no, and he fought hard for what he wanted.

“I hate you.” You whispered, heartbroken. Had he waited, you’d have said yes yourself. Ransom read the question in your gaze and stroked the curve of your cheek.

“I have done my waiting. No more of it. You’re mine now.”

[sincerelythedarkside]

What the King Has

[ROYAL AU] (image for aesthetic purposes only, no description on reader)

Pairing: Soft!Dark Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: You, Bucky, and Steve have shared your whole lives together. Steve has known from the moment he was born that he would never ascend the throne. That belonged to Bucky, the crown prince. Steve was okay with that, though. He didn't mind being the forgotten prince. He had you, and you were precious. Steve was happy to live his life with Bucky and you, whatever it may be. Until it's announced that you are to be married to the crown prince. Then, Steve can feel you slowly slipping through his fingers, and suddenly, being the forgotten prince is no longer enough. 

WARNINGS: 18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI. Dubcon, explicit sexual content, character death, overstimulation, oral (female receiving), fingering. Don’t read if any of this is triggering.

Note: This is for @stargazingfangirl18 ‘s soft dark writing challenge! I’m a little new to the dark fic space but I read Siri’s work and whewwww, it’s always h-hours when I read her work LOL thank you so much for hosting this challenge & congratulations! I hope you enjoy this fic 🥺

Prompts:

- “I’ve been waiting a long time for this, sweetheart.” - “Look at you, stretched out and trembling.” - Overstimulation

Count: ~8.4k 

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵

The breeze was warm, washing over Steve's face as he sat peacefully. He liked the early summer hours when no one else was awake and the day wasn't too hot yet. 

Suddenly, two hands slid over his eyes. Steve was alarmed for only half a second before he knew who it was. Steve always knew. It was easy to tell by the feel of the hands, the coolness, and the smell of orange blossoms and vanilla.

So sweet. 

"Why are you up?"

There was a huff before the hand slid away, and Steve could finally turn his head around to see you standing in a simple teal dress. You had your hair down as the light wind and sun made it soft. 

Taking a seat next to Steve, folding your legs delicately under you, you quirk a brow at him. "Why wouldn't I be up and here?" 

Your voice has a hint of challenge in them before they soften as you lean into him, looking forward. 

Sarah Rogers Taken too soon but loved & cherished by all

The two of you sit in silence for a long time, letting the early hours of the morning pass before Steve hears your stomach grumble. He tries to hold in his laughter, but it's too late. 

You're glaring at him before pouting. 

"Alright, sweetheart, let's get breakfast," Steve tells you before he stands, dusting his pants before holding his hand out to you. "You need to be more careful. It's not proper for the daughter of the Duke to be sneaking out."

You grab Steve's hand and let him pull you up before you dust your dress clean with your hand. "I think my father has long given up on my propriety, Steve. Besides, if anyone happened upon us, it wouldn't be all that strange for them to see me with you. If anything, it's strange to see us without Bucky."

"I think it would be strange if they did see him. There's no way to get him out of bed before noon of his own volition," Steve's lip quirks, and he feels his heart melt a little when you laugh. 

"C'mon," you tug on his hand. "Let's go wake his highness. Maybe we can both scare him."

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵ 

Breakfast is a fun affair for Steve as well. He usually has it with you and Bucky most days.

Steve watches you and Bucky bicker as he bites into his runny eggs, using his bread to wipe up the yolk before putting it in his mouth. 

"I wasn't scared!" Bucky insists.

"Right, you just let out that girlish scream because you weren't scared," you taunt him. 

"No, I screamed because you pounced on me and your elbow dug into my spleen before I was utterly crushed," Bucky threw back. 

"Are you saying I'm fat?" You narrowed your eyes at him.

"I didn't say anything," Bucky smirked while you scowled at him.

The bickering continues while Steve watches, eating his breakfast leisurely. 

Steve will never have the things Bucky has despite being half-brothers. He will never ascend the throne because that's the path Bucky belongs on. 

But it's okay. 

You look at Steve with a pout.

"You're the perfect weight for your height," Steve rolls his eyes. "Stop antagonizing her, Buck."

"She's antagonizing me!" Bucky exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. "Show some loyalty to your family, Steve, and take my side!"

Steve just chuckles with a shake of his head as he returns to his breakfast. 

You give Steve a warm smile before you give a scathing look to Bucky, flicking a piece of bacon at the prince. 

It's okay, Steve thinks. He's happy to be just a step behind Bucky because that's where you are too. You're family too, and as long as he can hold your hand, being the forgotten prince is okay.

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵ 

Steve spends a lot of time training. There's not much he can do otherwise. He doesn't have a lot of responsibilities. Perks of a forgotten prince, he supposes. 

He mostly practices alone. The knights don't bother him, don't think he's worth much since Steve will not ascend the throne, nor has Steve made any inclination that he'll challenge Bucky for it. 

With a deep breath and a powerful and precise swing, Steve cuts down the practice targets.

"Showing off to the trees and sky again, I see."

Steve turns around abruptly to see you standing there with a teasing smile. 

"Back already?" Steve walks over to you, accepting the towel you offer to wipe the sweat off his face and neck. 

"Mm," you hum. "Lady Carter throws the worst tea parties," you sigh. "I feel bad because she's really trying but she has no idea what to do."

"As opposed to your tea parties?" Steve smiles as you slap his shoulder lightly.

"I throw the best tea parties outside of Lady Romanoff," you smile confidently at him. "It's why I get letters all the time when my next one will be."

Steve continues to smile at you, basking in your presence. It has been a little too quiet and a little too lonely with Bucky gone to do check-ins with their lands and you being busy with your lady duties. 

"Lady Carter did ask me about you, you know," you give him a teasing smile again, looking much too mischievous. 

Steve's ears turn red, and he scowls when you laugh. 

"She's a nice girl, Steve," you tell him softly. "You should give her a chance."

"I'm not sure if I want a lady who throws the worst tea parties," Steve jokingly muses. "Think of my reputation."

"You have none," you remind him.

"Which is somehow still better than being known for the worst tea parties."

You shake your head at him, smiling as you do. You grab the towel from his hand, delicately dabbing the sweat near his brow that he missed. You can tell he doesn't want to talk about Lady Carter anymore, so you drop it. But you sorely wish Steve would give her a chance, give himself a chance to want more and be happy. 

"Are you done training for today?" You ask Steve instead.

Steve nods.

"Shall we go eat then?" You say. "Unfortunately, Lady Carter served the hardest cookies and biscuits that I nearly choked. And the tea was so bitter, I hardly ate anything."

"You're not selling her very well," Steve tilts his head at you, grabbing your hand to kiss the back of it gentlemanly before he grabs the towel back from you. "Let me just shower and I'll meet you in the waiting room."

"Take your time, I don't want to suffer in your presence," you smirk, and Steve rolls his eyes good-naturedly before running off. 

Lonely. 

Steve was lonely at times, but you seemed to fill the void better than anyone ever could. From the time he was seven and now when he was a man. 

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵ 

"Why did you want to go into town again?" Steve pulls at his collar that feels a little too tight around his neck.

"Bucky is coming back today," you remind him. "We should get him a present. You know how mopey gets when he has to leave us."

Steve smiles. "The crown prince shouldn't be moping."

You chuckle. "The king hasn't announced who his heir will be yet."

Shrugging, Steve replies, "He's the first in line. Besides, my mother was a concubine. The chances of me being named are near to zero, not that I want to anyway."

"You still have your father's blood in you," you chide him, though you're very aware of Steve's lack of ambition for the throne. "But I'm glad you're okay with it. The simple life is much better, isn't it? I don't envy all that Bucky has to do."

Steve nods.

"Isn't there anything you want to do?" Instead, you ask him, the conversation being something the two of you spoke of from time to time.

Steve hums as he ponders your question. In his early years, he merely told you he didn't know. It was true. Steve didn't quite have a sure path like Bucky did. 

He supposes he could really do anything. Steve won't ever have to worry about money because while the king ignores him, he takes care of him. And when Bucky becomes king, he will never let Steve suffer. 

But Steve also doesn't want to be a freeloader that relies on others. 

Steve likes drawing, but he doesn't think he could make a career out of it. He's good but nothing like the renowned artists around the world. 

He's good at fighting. Perhaps becoming one of Bucky's knights would be good. He can protect you that way too.

Steve could provide.

"I want to be a good husband," Steve says, and you look surprised before you smile softly at him.

"You'll make for a wonderful husband, Steve. I just know it."

 ➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵ 

One of the things Steve doesn't really care for is balls and banquets. The castle seems to always want to celebrate something. The only good thing that comes out of it is how beautiful you look when you arrive.

You put on your best dress and dawn yourself with jewels that aren't overly gaudy or flashy. The makeup makes your eyes look darker, and your cheeks skillfully coloured.

You're a walking temptation. Everyone in the kingdom knows as they watch you walk. There's no one better than you; no lady in the kingdom could ever compare. 

Steve watches in the back as you stand with Bucky and talk to the king. You curtsey just the right amount that makes the king pleased. 

When you arrived, you had found Steve before anyone else and chatted with him before Bucky whisked you away, saying the king wanted you to greet him. 

Steve can hear the whispers about how kind you are. Such a noble lady, the most sought out one that could easily become a princess consort if you wanted to be. And yet, you kept Steve close along with Bucky. And the whispers are about how pitiful Steve is. 

"Hello."

Steve turned his attention to see Lady Carter in front of him. She's wearing a dark royal blue gown with her blonde hair done up intricately. 

Steve stands straighter as he bows, taking Lady Carter's hand and kissing it as etiquette demands. 

"Good evening, Lady Carter," Steve says with a friendly smile, but his eyes are watching you from the corner. 

Lady Carter blushes.

"I—I wanted to know if you would dance...with me," she asks bravely. It's bold and blunt, and Steve could understand a little more why her tea parties are awful.

Lady Carter doesn't know the rules, or she doesn't care to listen to them. She lacks tact.

But Steve keeps his smile and nods nonetheless, offering his hand for her to take. Walking towards the dance floor, Steve finds Bucky has pulled you into a dance. He can tell the two of you are bickering again with the way you're scowling at him. It seems to be in good jest with the way Bucky is smiling. 

You stop scowling when you notice Steve and Lady Carter on the dance floor together. You give him an encouraging smile while Bucky is saying something to you.

Lady Carter is a suitable dancer, Steve thinks as he leads her around. For the tact she lacks, she makes up for in knowing nobility lessons. She makes small talk with him, saying how she once spotted him practicing sword fighting while visiting the castle. 

Steve politely makes conversation, just so it won't fall flat. You are right; she is a wonderfully nice girl. 

But it doesn't spark anything in Steve. 

The dance soon comes to an end, and Steve watches you beckon him secretly from the side. 

"Your grace," you say, brows wriggling slightly as you do. "How is your evening?"

"It could be better," Steve answered, falling into the joke with you as he holds his hand out in offering, sensing what you had wanted all along. "Will you do me the honour of giving me a dance, my lady?"

Steve can tell you're trying to not laugh as you accept it gracefully and allow him to pull you onto the floor. 

Such a beautiful and cunning lady. You have the tact to get what you want, and when it comes to Steve, you let him know exactly what you're doing and what you want without saying it. You can keep propriety and be authentic with Steve. 

Lady Carter may be a better dancer, but the way you grip Steve's arm and subtly caress his palm with your other is better. He likes that you stand closer so that he can feel the heat through your golden gown. 

It tells Steve that he's special. He's special to you.

"Well?" You say as you follow Steve's lead with ease, having danced many times before. 

"Well?" Steve repeats back.

"How was Lady Carter?" You ask almost exasperatedly. 

"She was okay," Steve shrugged. "Nice like you said."

"That's all?" You ask with a pout. 

"Didn't really feel much," Steve shrugged again.

You eye Steve closely before you sigh. "You usually don't right away. It takes time to build connections. Don't give up."

Steve doesn't say anything. What could he say? He could tell you that you were wrong—that it could happen right away. After all, it happened with you.

From the moment he met you at seven years old. He'd been moping because his mother passed away a couple of months ago. Then, you came bursting through the garden, smacking right into him. 

You had the audacity to look affronted like you weren't the one who rudely barreled into him. But then, you were grabbing his hand and pulling him into the bushes with you. Finally, he tried to speak, and you actually slapped your tiny hand on his mouth and shushed him. 

Steve had wanted to bite your hand, but then guards were running past. They checked in the garden for a couple of seconds before they kept moving. You removed your hand from your own volition with a relieved sigh. 

"Why are the guards chasing you?" Steve demanded in his tiny voice.

"Because I stole cookies from the kitchen," you say in an unmistakable tone as you pull out a cloth filled with stolen goods. 

"Why are you stealing from the castle?" Steve frowned.

You frowned back at him. "Because my daddy took me here because I'm supposed to meet Prince James. I met Prince James and he was terribly annoying so I told him we should play hide and seek and he's been hiding for the last...hour now. Then, when I was wandering around, I heard some of the maids say the king had another son and he was sad because his mother went to heaven. So, I'm trying to find the sad boy to give him cookies because cookies usually make things better."

You were such a talker and a rambler. 

The entire thing shocked Steve. He stared at you for a long moment, and then, "I'm not sad," he mumbled.

You blinked at him, realization dawning. You offered the cookies a little more to him.

"You should eat the cookies, I stole them for you, you know. Risked my life and all."

Steve couldn't help his lip curling up as he took one. For once, something other than sadness filled Steve's tiny body. The cookie tasted better than all the fancy meals he's ever eaten.

Suddenly, another tiny body burst into the garden, the bushes being pulled apart.

"You dirty little liar! You tricked me!"

And then it was always the three of you. You were the glue that kept everything together. He felt something immediately. The connection was instant. So, you were wrong.

If Steve didn't feel something for Lady Carter now, he never would. 

He was too busy feeling something for you.

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵ 

Steve heard it through the grapevine. It was the worst thing he could ever hear.

You were to be married to the crown prince. 

You were to be married to Bucky. 

The heir hadn't been announced yet, but Steve couldn't kid himself. The three of you knew the truth. Bucky was the only one who could be named the crown prince. Bucky would be the one to ascend the throne, and you were going to be his queen. 

That's what the king had wanted to talk to you about during the ball. The king thought you were perfect, exactly what was needed to help rule the kingdom, to help guide Bucky along. 

Steve cut down his practice target without a hitch. His swing is so powerful and harsh that wood splinters everywhere.

"Steve."

Steve doesn't turn around. He knows it's you, but he can't face you right now. Not when it feels like his heart is being ripped out of his chest like you and Bucky personally dug your hands in and dragged it out.

"Steve," you plead.

Steve feels hands touch his arm without hesitation. That was something else Steve loved about you. You never shirked from him. He turns around to see you looking up at him, eyes pleading for him to understand. 

"Why did you hide it from me?" Steve asked.

"I didn't, I—" You take a deep breath. "I didn't know either. The king said he liked me and thought I was good for Bucky. I didn't know an engagement would be announced."

"So, you don't want it?" Steve asks briskly. 

You purse your lips at Steve. "I don't know," you answer honestly. "Bucky and I...we bicker a lot. It's all fun and games and there's tension, but I don't know. I love and care for him, just as I do you. This is hard for me too, you know."

Then, Steve's shoulder releases their tension. He sags, and you let out a sigh of relief that Steve is no longer angry.

"You know this doesn't change anything, right?" You tell him softly as you hug him, propriety be damned. "You're always going to be my best friend."

Steve rests his chin over your shoulder. You're soft and warm. 

Bucky has known soft and warmness all his life. 

Why does he deserve you too?

 ➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵ 

Steve tried to believe you. He really did. 

He let things go on, desperate that you were right, that it changed nothing.

But it does. Steve knows it. 

And Bucky knows it, too. 

Steve wonders how he missed it. How he missed Bucky being in love with you too. The bickering becomes less, and Bucky is trying to woo you. 

And you're falling for it.

You're saying this wasn't to change anything, but it was.

You're slipping through Steve's fingers. You're leaving where you stood with him and moving next to Bucky.

"Bucky—" 

"Shh, doll, you don't want anyone to hear you, do you?" 

A low moan makes its way out of your throat.

"You're the one who dragged me here," you accused Bucky with a pant. 

"Can't help it, you're too fuckin' pretty, and you're mine," Bucky growled. 

"We're not married yet," you warn him, but your needy moans give your real feelings away.

"We're as good as. They're going to announce who the crown prince is soon. Once they do, let's get married."

"Bucky—"

"Shh, doll, I'm starting to think you want to be caught," Bucky moans suddenly. "You're clenching so tight around my fingers. Fuck, I'm going to ruin you on our wedding night."

The pants and low moans continue, unaware of the figure that stood next to the crept door against the wall. 

Steve clenches his jaw, listening to your needy moans before he's had enough. He pushes himself off the wall and walks away quietly and unnoticed.

You said it wasn't going to change anything, but you were wrong again. It changed everything. 

"I want the throne."

The king looks up, amused to see his other son standing there. 

"You?" He muses. "The son of a concubine? Are you hallucinating?"

Steve stands his ground.

"The son of a king, nonetheless. I'm going to challenge Bucky for the throne and I will have you seriously consider me."

"Insolent," the king drawled. "Just like your mother, but I supposed that's why I loved her so much," he smirks. 

The king stands and makes his way towards Steve.

"Alright," the king humours him. "The announcement will be three months from now. Show me you are worth considering. Show me you can command respect and loyalty. Show me you are competent on missions. Show me you have allies backing you for the throne."

Steve nods, bowing stiffly before he turns and makes his way out. 

If you were going to step forward, Steve would, too, even if it meant he needed to push Bucky one step back.

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵ 

Steve may have been the forgotten prince, but he was still a prince nonetheless. He took the same lessons as Bucky did, and though he seemed nonchalant about them, he picked them up faster than Bucky. 

The whispers storm the castle when news breaks out the Steve is fighting for the throne. It throws a wrench between the three of them.

"How could you do this?" Bucky hisses. "Have you been plotting against me all along?"

Steve shook his head. "I would've been happy to follow you, Buck."

"What changed?" Bucky demanded, but Steve wouldn't say.

Bucky grimaces. The only change that happened recently—

"You want her," Bucky both breathes out and accuses him.

Steve tenses, and Bucky has his answer. 

"You're going to betray me because of her?" Bucky frowns. "This is an entire kingdom, Steve. You have no idea what you're doing."

"My entire kingdom is her," Steve shakes his head. "If I need to rule the rest of the people so she'll be mine, I'll do it."

"You're crazy," Bucky shook his head. "But fine. Let's see who will come out on top then. Who gets to be the king and who will get the queen."

Steve remains while Bucky storms off.

It is days before you confront him.

"Why are you doing this, Steve?" You plead. "You said you never wanted the throne. You said what you wanted was to be a good husband. You don't need the throne for that."

Steve is training again. He stops when you approach him.

"You said it wasn't wrong for me to want more," Steve mumbled. "This is what I want. Being the forgotten prince isn't enough anymore."

You feel tears well up in your eyes that Steve brushes away. 

"You're going to hate each other in the end," you weep. "This is going to hurt us all."

Steve tries to pull you in a hug, but you resist. He sighs.

"As long as you don't hate me, we'll be okay."

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵ 

Steve is quickly moving up the ranks. He's gaining speed on Bucky.

During training, Steve demands the respect of the knights by defeating them all in battle. And when Bucky and Steve have a mock battle meant to be friendly, Steve shows no restraint in defeating Bucky. 

Steve earns loyalty when he's given a mission to fight off soldiers from another kingdom from invading a village. He saves more than half his men in battle. 

Steve's days are no longer filled with dallying off with you, sitting by lakes and drawings, or going horseback riding. He spends his days in battle strategy meetings and entertaining guests to win them to his side.

Surprisingly, it is Lord Stark, Duke of York, that becomes his biggest ally. Lord Stark doesn't quite agree with Steve on everything but agrees even less with Bucky that he supports Steve's play for the throne. 

He gathers allies here and there as he moves. He's becoming even forces with Bucky, who still has many supporters. 

Who still has you. 

It burns him worse than anything. Steve misses you, but he learns to stay away and make you miss him. 

It helps that Steve's success makes Bucky more irritable. He's more irritable, but you're the only one who can calm him down, and it makes Bucky hang on tighter, knowing it also grates on Steve. 

Soon, Steve thinks. As long as he's announced as the crown prince, you can return to him.

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵ 

"Is this a joke?"

Steve's fuming. This entire thing was a farce—a trick. Was it meant to make him look like a fool?

"I wanted to see if you were actually my son. I couldn't imagine having one that used to sit all day by the lake with that girl. Now, I know you're a real man."

"So, why won't you give me the title!" Steve nearly screams, anger all the way up in his throat, a protruding vein in his forehead. "I have done what you said. I've commanded respect and loyalty. I've shown you I'm competent, and I showed you I have allies to back my claim for the throne!"

"So you could support James!" The king booms, and Steve feels it knock the wind out of his sails.

He feels cold.

"What?"

"So you could support James," the king repeats more seriously. "James will be taking the throne after me and he needs someone competent and strong to support him. He has his future queen but he needs a right hand man."

The entire thing slowly unravels and dawns on Steve. His old man never intended to give him a real chance for the throne—a real chance for you. Anything he's done, it was meant for Bucky. As if Bucky couldn't do it on his own. 

And then Steve's laughing deliriously. 

Everyone.

Everyone was trying to take you from him. 

Like it wasn't meant to be, that you were going to have to slip through his fingers, and he would just have to accept it.

Turning around, Steve begins to walk away.

"Steve!" The king calls. "Steve!"

But Steve doesn't see the need to listen to the king anymore. 

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵ 

"I'm sorry, Steve."

Steve turns around to see you standing a couple of feet away. It's been a while since the two of you have been to the lake together. Everything seems to slip back to normal.

No one except the three of you and the king knows that Steve was never meant for the throne.

Steve doesn't say anything and listens to you approach him, carefully sitting next to him. It's quiet as the two of you gaze out onto the water, ripples occurring whenever a leaf drops. 

"Would you have been happy to see me ascend the throne?" Steve asks finally. 

He feels you tense beside him before you relax.

"Of course," you tell him. "If that's what you really wanted, Bucky and I would be happy to support you."

But there it is.

The sting in his heart. 

You and Bucky? You were going to marry him even if Bucky didn't become king?

Has Steve lost you completely already without knowing? 

No, Steve pleads as he places his head silently on your shoulder, letting you think that he's in pain from the throne he's lost. 

Steve can't lose you. You are the reason the sad little boy grew up. Your cookies are now the reason why Steve understands that maybe the method doesn't matter as long as he gets the results.

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵ 

You're running through the castle. 

Everything was on fire, and your dress is ripped at the ends. 

How did this happen? It happened so quickly. One minute, you were sleeping in Bucky's arms, having snuck in, and the next, the Kingdom of Hydra had infiltrated the castle. 

There were bodies of the maids and butlers on the ground as you passed. Bucky said he needed to go and that you needed to go hide, go be somewhere safe. There was so much fighting everywhere. The knights were all caught in a battle, and no one noticed you running through.

You entered the throne room, gasping at what you saw.

The king was dead.

His chest stabbed through, body left on the ground to bleed out.

You lift your shaky hand to your mouth in horror, trying to keep down the vomit that was threatening to come up. 

You turned and ran. 

You need to find Bucky. You need to find him and find Steve. The three of you need to get out of here. This kingdom is doomed.

When the lake comes into view, you hear swords clanking, and you carefully make your way to it. Everything in your heart hurts as you plead to God that it's Bucky or Steve there—that they're not dead.

Stepping into the pathway out of the bushes, your body freezes.

Steve is standing there, blood all over him with a cut on his cheek. His sword is locked in Knight Commander Brock Rumlow's chest. The enemy. 

But you can't even celebrate because on the ground right behind him is Bucky. His eyes wide open, but you can tell he's no longer breathing as he sits in the pool of his own blood.

A shuddered gasp leaves your mouth, and Steve turns to see you as he rips his sword out, Rumlow's body hitting the ground. 

Steve calls your name. "I—I came too late," Steve anguishes. He drops his sword and falls to his knees next to Bucky. 

You stagger towards Bucky. Steve's holding Bucky's stab wound in his stomach as if trying to keep it all in, and maybe it would fix it. Bucky would come back. But blood merely pours over Steve's hands.

You lift your shaky fingers and shut Bucky's eyes.

He needs to rest. 

"Did he—"

"It was painless, I think," Steve chokes.

"Did he have any last words?" You can't see anymore, tears overflowing from your eyes.

"Just...just to take care of you," Steve's eyes are rimmed red, and you choke on a sob, couching over Bucky's body, not caring that his blood was getting all over you.

"I'm sorry," Steve whispers. "I'm sorry."

But you shake your head. It wasn't Steve's fault he arrived too late. 

Bucky was gone.

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵ 

The knights fall under Steve's command, and through the long hours of battle, Steve manages to stop the invasion. They kill every single last one of Hydra's knights and soldiers. 

They suffered a loss, though. The king was dead, and so was Bucky, the one meant to be crown prince, though no one knew that. 

The people look to Steve, and Steve lets the burden fall on him. You can tell Steve didn't want the throne like this, that he's suffering under it all too. The coronation happened so fast, you don't even remember it.

They rebuild slowly. Steve is busy every day making plans to wage war upon the Kingdom of Hydra. 

And Steve does take care of you like Bucky asked. When you couldn't stand at the funeral. When you couldn't stop crying in the middle of the night. Steve was there.

You were surprised he could make time for you. Between all the new responsibilities he had and...Lady Carter coming around more often; it must've been a lot. 

You could tell Lady Carter wanted Steve to court her, to make her queen consort, but you could only remember Steve's words of indifference during the ball—when he said he felt nothing for her.

You wonder if that's changed.

Your father was trying to urge you to return home, that Bucky wasn't there, and so, you had no reason to either when he saw Lady Carter around. 

But you couldn't leave, not from Steve's comfort and not when Steve needed you, too.

"Steve?" You call softly.

Steve's hiding away in the garden since his councilmen find him too quickly at the lake.

Steve turns to you, and you notice how tired he is.

"Or should I refer to you as your highness now?" You try to tease, thankful that Steve still has enough to lightly smile at you.

"I'll always be just Steve to you," he tells you softly. "Right?"

You soften, warming at his words as you crawl into the bushes with him. The two of you are long gone from being just two kids who fit easily together once upon a time. 

"Of course," you tell him fiercely, looping your arm around his.

The two of you bask in silence once more as Steve strokes your hand, playing with the ends of your fingers.

"They're starting to hound on me to take a queen," Steve says finally. "That we'll be unstable until I do so."

You swallow.

"Oh," you say for lack of anything else. "Are you going to ask Lady Carter? She's been here often and rumour has it you're courting her. She'll make a fine queen, terrible tea parties and all," you pat his hand.

But Steve shakes his head.

"I can't take Lady Carter," Steve sighs stressfully. "I don't—trust her. She doesn't know me. She'll never know or understand me."

"Steve..."

Steve turned his head to you, eyes blue and pleading.

"I know it's a lot to ask, but I can't—I can't do this without you," Steve shakes his head. "I—will you marry me?"

Shock locks your body up. You've never—Steve was...

But he looks at you, scared and pleading, and you're reminded that Bucky is gone.

And you understand Steve—that there is no one who will know or understand you now either. 

The two of you only have each other now.

You find yourself nodding. 

"Of course, Steve," you whisper, patting his hand comfortingly. For yourself or for him, you'll never know. "I'll marry you."

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵ 

The wedding moved so fast, it felt like a blur. You were being pulled left and right for preparations, and the day of, everything was perfect. 

Steve was a gentleman, smiling the entire way through to keep you comfortable. He kept you at his side when he sensed your nervousness. 

The daughters of many noblemen looked at you in envy, burning anger in Lady Carter's case.

Everyone is congratulating you, and all you can think of is how Bucky isn't here. That at one point, it would've been Bucky standing next to you.  

You wonder if the roles were reversed, if Steve had been the one who was supposed to inherit the crown all along, would you have fallen for Steve? Mourn his absence like you did Bucky?

It isn't long until the evening is over and the night creeps in. You nervously tug off the intricacies of your wedding gown, letting it fall to the floor before you fall back on Steve's bed.

The room of the king. Ginormous mattress and plush pillows. It's your room now too. 

Steve slowly took off his shirt and pants, crawling onto the bed over you. 

You feel a wave of anxiety wash through you. The time has come to fulfil your marital duties, but you didn't think it would happen so fast. 

"Are you nervous?" Steve asks quietly as he presses soft, warm kisses over your face. 

You feel the tension slowly begin to bleed out when his lips flutter over your eyelids and nose.

"I—a little," you tell him honestly. "Bucky and I...we fooled around but we've never—"

And Steve feels a hot burn of desire flush down to his cock. Pleased by the fact that he'll be the only one to touch you in that way has possession stirring in his gut.

Steve has so many plans for you tonight. He's going to break you apart, piece by piece until you only will ever remember him and then put you back together.

Your eyes flutter close as Steve caresses your cheek.

"I've waited a long time for this, sweetheart," Steve mutters, and before your eyes can open, Steve swoops down and captures your lips in an ardent kiss. He groans at the taste of you. He needs to taste more. 

He kisses you and kisses you until you're breathless. Then, he begins to kiss down your jaw, neck, and collarbone.

"Steve..." you breathe, and it spurs him on. 

Steve caresses your breasts, squeezing them and moulding them in his hands until you’re pliant and soft to his touch. When he takes a hard pebble in his mouth, you hiss at his warm tongue swirling and nipping at you. 

What was Steve doing? It was just marital duties. Why was he taking his time? But you know Steve is a good man, he wants this to be good for you too, and by God, it was doing something to you.

Steve moves further and further down, leaving wet kisses down your body. You feel yourself tensing when he gets closer and closer to his destination. 

"Wait, Steve—" you breathe, not sure if you're ready to have his mouth on you. It's too—much. Awkward. You've barely kissed Steve until today. 

But Steve ignores you, wrapping his strong arm around your thighs to spread you open for him. Flattening his tongue, he presses against you as he moves languidly up, tasting you so intimately. His tongue narrows as it reaches up to your clit, flicking it.

"Oh, god," you gasp, your hands flying down to bury themselves in Steve's hair.

"You taste so good," Steve moans against you. He was so hard right now; it was almost painful. But he wants to taste you more, taste you when you're cumming on his tongue. 

Steve eats you out with vigour, his tongue exploring every crevice and probing inside you. Your back arches off the bed at the sensation, but he keeps you strapped down by your thighs.

You feel the heat creeping up inside you, swirling in your gut as it starts to build. Your hands grasp at Steve's hair, unsure if you want to push him away or pull him closer. 

There's a lingering sense of shame and embarrassment as your hips buck into Steve's face. 

"Steve—" You call his name sharply, feeling something rising and about to spill over inside you. 

Steve doesn't stop. If anything, it encourages him as he licks your pussy unrelentingly. The moment he fastens his lips on your swollen clit, you seize his hair frighteningly tight as you pull him close, hips rubbing into his mouth as you let out a low groan.

A moan in the back of Steve's throat hums as your slick gushes into his mouth and chin. You taste so delectable; he can feel you clenching on his tongue, desperate for something bigger to hold onto. 

Pulling up, Steve licks around his mouth as he crawls back up your body. You're gasping and panting, your hands falling from his head and onto his shoulders.

Steve kisses you again, making you taste yourself on his tongue. He rubs your tongue with his, licking into your mouth and grinds against you. His hardness makes you jump a little, a noise of surprise leaving your mouth before Steve presses you into the bed. 

"You're so soft," Steve sighs, his hand caressing your body as it moves down. He gropes your breast once before his hand keeps moving. "So perfect."

You let out a whine when Steve's fingers drag through your wet folds, his fingers pressing tightly against you as he circles your clit.

"I can't wait until you're cumming on my cock, but I need to get you ready," Steve mutters. "I'll fuck you so good, sweetheart. It'll be just you and me, like it was always meant to be."

You're delirious when Steve immediately shoves two fingers into you. You let out a sharply drawn breath as Steve thrusts his fingers in you at a fast pace. He spreads his fingers inside you, stretching you before he curls his fingers to draw your pleasure out. 

Steve uses his other arm to prop himself up above you, wanting to see your face clearly when you cum on his fingers. 

"Does it feel good?" Steve asks you, his voice rough with want and desire.

You let out a moan in response, but Steve wants to hear more. When Steve finds that spongy, slightly bumpy area in you, you let out a cry. Steve strokes the area over and over, and you feel like you're going to snap. 

You're so close again—so close. 

But then Steve slows down.

"Steve—" You whine, too gone in the pleasure to care how wanton you sound.

"Does it feel good?" Steve asks again.

"Yes, yes, yes—" You rush out. "Please—"

And then Steve's fingers start moving again, and you almost cry with relief. 

"That's right," Steve coos at you. "Cum on my fingers, sweetheart. I'm going to take such good care of you."

Steve swings his thumb around, pressing against your clit firmly as he circles around the swollen nub.

You fall off the edge immediately.

"God," Steve groans, feeling your pussy clench around his fingers, drawing him in. "You're gonna feel so good aroun' me."

Pulling his fingers out, pleased by your whine, he sticks them in his mouth and sucks it clean. You taste so good, and you were his to taste now.

You're breathing harshly, coming down from your second high as Steve pulls your limp body towards him, spreading your legs around him. He strokes his cock a couple times, groaning at the slight relief of tension in him. 

You look down at him and almost gasp at his cock. He was big and thick. You weren't sure if it was going to fit inside of you. But Steve was already rubbing his cock against your juices, slicking himself up. 

"Steve, I don't—"

Steve climbs over you, caging you in his arms as he sucks on your swollen bottom lip.

"Shh," he soothes you. "I'm going to take care of you. I'm going to make you feel so good, and haven't I made you feel good so far?"

You nod unsurely.

"It's going to be so much better," Steve tells you, "Gonna make you mine."

There was something dark and a little sinister about his words, but he doesn't give you much time to ponder about it as his tip starts to enter you.

The stretch is overwhelming and burns a little.

"Noo," you moan out, your hips trying to draw away, but Steve holds you close, forcing more of his cock inside you. "Steve, it hurts."

"Just a little more, sweetheart," Steve kisses you. "You're being so good right now. Just a little more."

Steve forces his way through until he bottoms out in you, groaning as he does. 

"You're so tight," Steve is nearly blind with pleasure. "So good. So warm. All mine."

Steve stills, merely enjoying your hot heat encasing him and also giving you time to adjust to him. He doesn't want to hurt you. You're being so good, and he wants you to enjoy him. 

Minutes pass as Steve kisses you everywhere on your face with your arms wrapped tightly around his neck. Finally, the burn starts to go away, and you feel the need for him to just—move.

Steve senses it right away with the shift of your hips and begins to pull out to his tip before thrusting back in. You moan right next to his ear. He tries to be slow and gentle, but the sounds you make are so lewd and dirty, like you're just begging for it.

Soon, Steve's gripping your hair as he thrusts brutally into you.

"There's my girl," Steve grunts as you writhe underneath him. "Look at you, stretched out and trembling."

You feel so full, so hot. It was dirty, the way you could hear the wet noises of your pussy filling the room as Steve fucked you. The familiar heat comes back with a vengeance, coiling tightly.

Sweat drips down your forehead as you hold onto Steve, legs wrapping around his hips to keep him close. 

"Steve, I'm—"

"That's right, sweetheart," Steve mutters as he snaps his hips into you. "You're cumming, aren't you? You're gonna cream all over my cock."

You whine, his words making the tension tighter inside you.

"I want you to remember this," Steve presses a sensual kiss to your lips, licking inside your mouth. "I want you to remember that it's me making you cum. No one else. It's only ever going to be me that's making you cum. You want that, don't you? Want me."

Somehow, Steve moves faster inside you, pulling your hair back to kiss your throat.

Oh, god, the coiling was tightening more and more.

"Yes, yes, yes," you mumble. "It's you. Please, please make me cum." You're so desperate right now.

"Go on, sweetheart," Steve tells you as he moves his hand down to swipe at your clit. 

You shatter underneath Steve, your walls gushing and clenching at Steve's cock, pulling him in and just begging to never let him go. 

"Shit," Steve swears at the feel you, but he ploughs on. You barely have time to settle over your orgasm before Steve builds another one in you and makes you cum again, overlapping the first.

His thrusts get harsher and more jagged until—

"I'm gonna cum," Steve grits out. "Gonna cum deep inside you, then you'll really be mine. Always perfect, always mine."

You're still coming down from your orgasm before you look at Steve for a moment. His face becomes open, the way it always does with you. It contorts into pleasure as you feel his hot ropes of cum painting your insides. 

Your legs feel like jelly, and you feel sated. Steve remains inside you, his cock still not finishing pumping. He only softens a little, but the thought of you keeps him from going completely limp. 

He begins to slowly thrust again.

"Steve—" You groan. Your arms are boneless, but they grip at his hip, trying to push him away. It was good, but it was too much now. The pleasure of his thrusts was borderline on pain. "I can't anymore."

"No," Steve mutters as if he doesn't even register you. "Gotta fuck you again. Gotta make sure you don't remember what he feels like in you."

"Steve?" You call his name before a wrecked cry makes its way out of you.

He likes the way his name falls from your lips. It sounds just the way it's supposed to. Your nails dig into his hips before Steve grabs both of them, forcing them over your head into the mattress.

Cries and whimpers start to fall from your lips as Steve hushes you, kissing you tenderly as he rutts inside you. Even with the pain, your body still reacts to him, pulling him in further.

"Until you love me, sweetheart," Steve tangles your fingers together. "We're finished when you tell me you love me."

➵➵➵☽☾➵➵➵ 

Steve never planned for Hydra to infiltrate the castle. It was too close to home, too close to you, and Steve would never put you at risk. 

He already has his plans. First, poison the king with an airborne product Lord Stark had created. He would get weak and weary until he died peacefully in bed. 

And Bucky? Well, Bucky would die on his next mission. A faulty horse or perhaps to save one of his knights—one of Steve's knights. He would die a hero and be revered like he deserved.

But all things considered, Steve never took things for granted. So, under all the chaos, Steve snuck into the throne room where he knew his father would be hiding.

The king had been happy to see him, thinking Steve was here to secure him to safety. It was why it was so easy to plunge his sword through his back.

Bucky, though, was a little more complicated.

"Steve, you need to go get her and get out of here," Bucky shouts at him while locked in a fight with Rumlow. Eventually, Bucky gets the upper hand, jabbing his elbow into Rumlow's face and knocks him down. 

"I will keep her safe, I always have," Steve said calmly as he steps forward.

"Good, I—what do you think you're doing?" Bucky hisses as Steve raises his sword against him. 

"I love you, Bucky. As far as half-brothers go, no one will ever be able to replace you," Steve tells him. "But I also want her and you're getting in the way of that."

"You're going to kill me over her?!" Bucky hisses. "I love her too but I would never kill you to have her!"

"That's why I know I love her more," Steve shakes his head. "You have all the things you could ever need. I had nothing but her. Why couldn't you just let me have her?"

"She isn't a prize to fight over!" Bucky snarls. "She loves me, she always has."

"She'll learn to love me too."

Steve brings his sword down, and the two of them fight like they had during the mock battle, but the stakes are so much higher. But just like the mock battle, Steve gains the upper hand and drives his sword through Bucky's stomach.

For a moment, everything is still, and Steve feels his stomach drop, knowing he's fallen and there's no going back. 

"Bastard," Bucky gasps as Steve yanks his sword back, letting Bucky fall to the ground. "Stay away from her, you hear me? Keep your sick hands off her."

"I'm sorry," Steve kneels and apologizes as if he didn't hear anything. "I'll take care of her."

Bucky wants to say something else but no longer has the energy and can't find his voice. The light fades away with ease as he stares at the night sky. 

"Hah."

Steve turns to see Rumlow standing, wiping his busted lip where Bucky hit him. 

"Well, I didn't realize there was such discord here. A prince killing another prince, his own half-brother? You might just be Hydra material."

Steve stands, readying his sword again.

"You know nothing you speak of." Steve frowns before Rumlow charges him.

They stand, swords locked against each other.

"Hydra is nothing but a barren wasteland. None of you know how to want anything other than your own demise," Steve's face is harsh.

"I want something that gives me life—meaning. And it was going to belong to the king. So, I'm going to ascend the throne because you see, I want what the king has."

Steve slides his sword down and swings Rumlow's right out of his hand before he drives his sword right up through Rumlow's chest.

And he hears your shuddered gasp.

[mypoisonedvine]

peaches & cream || soft!dark Jake Wyler x reader

for @stargazingfangirl18​'s 5k challenge! I used the prompt, "the town golden boy isn’t as sweet as everyone thinks."

word count: 3.6k

warnings: smut (noncon), stalking/obsession, some degradation/negging (but lots of praise during the actual smut), kinda yandere vibes?, touch of breeding kink at the end, definitely flirting with the boundary between soft!dark and regular dark but I like to think it’s a fine line

“Sorry, but that’s a seasonal flavor,” the girl at the counter explained in a snarky monotone.

“Well, yeah, but isn’t it still… the season?” you pressed; normally you weren’t the sort of person to argue with a cashier over a milkshake, but the look she was giving you made you feel like she was holding out on you— especially when the promotional poster for the very thing you were trying to order was just behind her head, and said the flavor was available for two more days.

“We’re out,” she answered firmly, but then her face suddenly shifted to a much more pleasant expression as you heard the chime of the front door opening behind you.  

You felt his body hovering behind yours just as his hand laid on the counter beside you, caging you in.  It was even more unsettling with the context that there was a whole line of people waiting behind you already.

“I’ll get your usual,” the girl promised to the man beside with a flirtatious smile as she disappeared to the back, returning almost instantly with a shake in her extended hand.  “Peaches and cream milkshake— extra whipped cream, no cherry.  Enjoy!”

Your eyes widened at the reading of your own order.  “I thought you were out!” you protested, going completely ignored.

"If you were my girl, this sort of thing wouldn't need to happen."

You recoiled from Jake's voice in your ear, and he smiled in spite of your snarl, bringing the straw to his lips slowly.  With a shudder you walked away, deciding it was probably better to forgo a milkshake anyways— especially if it was a chance to avoid everyone’s favorite senior, the football king who basically owned the whole town for no other reason than being good-looking, athletic, and allegedly “charming” or whatever.

Of course, he followed you, sitting across from you in a booth and silently shooing his posse of fellow teammates to go off and give you two some space.  If only he would give you space.

“We can share,” he offered as he held the milkshake out towards you.  “I know it’s your favorite… it’s mine too.”

“I’ve lost my appetite,” you explained quickly as you pulled a book out of your backpack, intent on ignoring him since you couldn’t physically force him to leave.

He shrugged and returned to sucking on the straw, watching you unwaveringly as you tried to read your book— staring at the page was going well, but you couldn’t seem to actually get any words down.  Had you forgotten English as a written language or something?

“Could you leave?” you finally asked as you groaned and looked up from your book.  “You’re distracting me.”

“I’m literally just sitting here,” he reminded you.

“And it’s distracting!”

He smirked proudly.  “My presence tends to have that effect on people.  Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

You rolled your eyes, burying your face back in your book.  “You know, you may have everybody else fooled, but someday you’re gonna have to leave this pathetic little town and go into the real world where throwing a ball isn’t a career and nobody fawns over you just because you have the audacity to be attractive.”

He chuckled lightly.  “Right, because you have those big city dreams of yours, but believe it or not some of us like this ‘pathetic’ little town.”

“Well, of course you would,” you snorted.  “Your dad’s the mayor and your girlfriend’s the head cheerleader.”

“My ex-girlfriend,” he corrected, finally getting your attention enough to make you shut your book.

“What?” you blurted out.

“Yeah, she dumped me,” he explained plainly.

“Why would she do that?” you asked, making him look much too proud of himself again.  “Finally snapped out of the brainwashing, huh?” you added, effectively killing his smug expression.

“I guess you could say that.  She met some college guy from out of town… I think her parents liked me too much, she needed a bit more rebellion.”

“Well, my condolences to you,” you smiled, “and my congratulations to her.”

“I thought you hated her,” he scoffed.

“Well, now she and I have something in common: a complete lack of interest in you!”

“I mean, I wouldn’t go that far,” he smirked, “she still comes over every now and again to suck my cock.”

You choked on nothing, face getting warm at his crude language.  He didn’t talk like that with anyone else; it was so cruel the way he kept everybody in town under his spell except you, the way he let you in on his real darkness with no one else to confide in or believe you.  

It was so fundamentally lonely, being the one person who wasn’t in love with Jake Wyler.  It was even worse being the one person Jake Wyler loved.

At least, that was the word he used multiple times in his semi-anonymous letters, his incessant calls and emails, his speeches outside your window.  He’d actually cooled off lately, you wondered if maybe he had finally let go of this ‘the one thing I can’t have’ obsession and learned to appreciate his girlfriend (who, for all her personality flaws, was objectively gorgeous, and seemed to at least be nice to him if nobody else).

But now that she left him (which you were still trying to process, honestly), you were surprised he hadn’t already moved on to the next best wannabe model and/or reinstated his campaign to win you over.

Then again, the look in his eye kind of made you think you were about to witness the second one.

“You know, when she does come over, I can only ever finish because I’m thinking about you,” he revealed in a low voice.  You grimaced and slid out of the booth, stuffing your book into your bag and barely managing to throw him a goodbye before you dashed out.  

It wasn’t like you really thought you could get away from him— he had made it clear over and over that you couldn’t— but the idea of being crammed in that booth with him, surrounded throughout the diner by his adoring fans who somehow didn’t manage to overhear him when he said those awful things, made you feel nauseous.

What you should’ve considered was that, fans or not, those people were witnesses, and now that you were running out into the dark streets of the town and he was chasing after you, you didn’t have any.  It was just you and him, and when you turned into an alleyway to try to get home faster, even the dim glow of the streetlights couldn’t see you anymore.

“Hey,” he stopped you with a tight grip on your arm, pulling you back into him.

“Let me go!” you whined, trying to tug yourself away but only ensuring that his hand would leave a bruise on your arm.  

“I will when you just hear me out, okay?” he hissed, spinning you around to look up at him.  "Why don't you just give me a chance?  Don't you wanna be popular?" 

"I don't want to be anything that requires being within ten yards of you!" you spat.

He seemed bewildered, but you knew he wasn’t actually that stupid.  "Why?"

"Because you know why!"

He sighed, slumping his shoulders a little.  "Are we still on that, really?  I told you, you should take it as a compliment.  You know how many girls would kill to catch me jerking off in their panties?"

"You're sick, Jake,” you sighed, “and you're really good at hiding it from everyone else but I know what you really are.  You told me you needed help with algebra and I actually believed you, for months you were lying to me to get close so you could perv on me when you already had a girlfriend and two side chicks anyways— god, Jake, you're crazy!"

You yelped when he pinned you to the wall, blue eyes darker than ever.  "I really, really hate that word."

Against the wall, your back straightened as you felt the tone shift completely for a moment before he was back to his jovial self again, giving you a somber but almost-genuine smile.

“The only kind of crazy I am is crazy about you,” he defended with a laugh, leaning in a little closer.  “Why can’t you see that?”

As his eyes moved from your own to your lips, a renewed sense of fear shot through you.  “Jake…” you mumbled, apparently your feeble attempt to ask him to stop.

“Just one kiss,” he bargained, “and then I’ll let you go.  Okay?  That’s all I need.”

“N-no,” you whimpered, turning your head away as he leaned in even further.  “Stop.”

“Come on, it’s just a kiss, baby,” he cooed.  “Then you can leave.  Hey, you might actually like it.  You know, I think that’s what you’re really scared about… and I get it!  When I first realized I was in love with you, it was scary for me, too— I mean, I’m the most important guy in town and you’re just some bookworm, it’s sort of social suicide for me so I had a lot to worry about.”

There he went with his negging again, trying to bring you down to his level.  Your brain knew that, it saw right through it, but your gut still sank with doubt.

“But I know now that love is nothing to be afraid of,” he concluded.

“No, Jake,” you whispered, feeling tears well in your eyes, “I’m afraid that you’ll hurt me if I don’t do what you want.”

“Well, that is something to be afraid of,” he replied with the coldest laugh you’d ever heard; you didn’t hear any agreement, but the lack of denial was deafening.  “So just be my good girl and let me kiss you…”

You swallowed dryly, your eyes wide open and searching for anywhere to look but up at him.

He was so close now that his lips brushed against yours with his command: “say it.”

You stammered over your breath, not sure exactly what he was asking for, and you winced as you felt his grip tighten on your arms.

“Say, ‘kiss me’,” he clarified in a harsh whisper.  “Say, ‘please’...”

“Please,” you repeated awkwardly, hearing it in your voice but so clearly not your own words, “kiss me.”

He let his mouth intertwine with yours and your eyes were still wide open as he let his own fall shut, moving his hands to clutch your face gently instead as you gave a weak effort to kiss him back.

Objectively, he was good at this.  A lot of things were objectively true about Jake: as much as you forced yourself not to see it, he was handsome; as much as it didn’t really matter to you, a boycotter of all things sports, he was talented; and, as much as no one else realized it, he was completely deranged.  For every word of kindness from him there was another of anger.  For every love letter in your locker, there was a threat left scrawled on crumpled paper inside your bedroom, just so he could remind you that your parents would let him into the house if he asked and never question it.

Which was why it was extremely important that you did not enjoy this kiss.  You needed to hate the way his fingers traced over the pulse in your neck, the way his tongue tickled yours, the way his teeth just barely grazed your lip until your knees went a little weak.  

But wow, there was something primally satisfying about melting into his arms, feeling his strength support you like it was nothing when he held your waist and pulled you closer.

You could almost forget that it was him.  But then he mumbled your name into the kiss, nearly moaned it in fact, and it pulled you back to reality.  With a gasp, you pushed him away and blinked your eyes open, not even realizing you’d closed them; hating how quickly you’d started to give in to him.

“There, one kiss,” you mumbled, wiping your mouth with the back of your sleeve.  “I’m gonna go home now—”

“You can’t be serious,” he laughed incredulously.  “You’re gonna kiss me like that and tell me you don’t feel this, too?  We’re so meant for each other— we even order the same milkshake!”

“That doesn’t matter!” you denied.

“I love you!”

“That doesn’t matter either!”

You turned to leave but he grabbed you again from behind, covering your mouth with his hand when you opened your mouth to scream.  “Don’t fucking talk to me like that,” he hissed in your ear, “and don’t walk away from me.”

Fighting against his grip did nothing but exhaust you: he only needed one arm to hold you back as he dragged you deeper into the alley.  Your legs swung wildly and landed a kick to his shin, and he plugged your nose while he was covering your mouth so you couldn’t breathe.

“Listen to me, you stuck up little bitch,” he growled.  “I’m really sick of this ‘hard to get’ act.  I know you want me.  So shut up and let me show you what you’ve been missing out on, okay?  You gonna be good?”

In that moment, you would’ve agreed to anything for a chance to fill your lungs with fresh air, and so you nodded, the back of your head rubbing against his chest.

“You gonna be nice and quiet so nobody catches you getting fucked like a whore in this alley?”

Another nod, more feverish than the last, ended with a sharp inhale as he let go of your nose.  But he was still covering your mouth, his arm around you now feeling less like restraint and more like an embrace.

"I've wanted you for so long, you can't even imagine," he explained softly as he leaned down and kissed your neck, gripping your waist tighter.  "You and this perfect body of yours.  This smart little head that thinks too much…"

You swallowed dryly as his hand trailed lower.

"This pussy you've been hiding from me for much too long," he added darkly, roughly shoving his hand up your skirt.

You whined behind his hand but he didn’t seem to care; he pulled your skirt up and grinned at the sight of your panties— because he recognized them.

“I remember these,” he purred.  “They look good on you, baby, but they looked better covered in my come.”

Your cheeks burned with shame— you already hated yourself for still wearing the pair he’d tampered with, but it was harmless after a few runs through the washer, right?  You weren’t going to stop wearing your favorite panties just for him, that would mean he won, in a sense; or, that’s what you told yourself to justify not burning them.

“Don’t worry, they’re gonna be soaked by the time I’m done with you,” he purred, slipping two fingers between your legs and growling slightly.  “Well, actually, you’ve already done a lot of the work for me.”

He pulled the fabric aside and explored your pussy instead, tightening his grip over your mouth as you made little muffled yelps.  The rough pads of his fingers found and targeted your clit instantly, that megawatt smile pressed against your ear as he started to rub your bud harder.

“Mm, feels good, huh?” he taunted, moving even faster as your hips jolted unintentionally.  He stopped only to bring the fingers to his lips, humming at the taste of you which he sucked off of them.  “So sweet, babygirl— better than any peaches and cream milkshake, that’s for sure.”

The wet fingers trailed down your body again, finding your entrance that he suddenly pushed into; it was a little too much without any warning and it made your eyes shoot wide open, a squeak barely escaping your throat.

"Just as tight as I imagined, baby,” he sighed, “all those times I used your panties, or hooked up with somebody who almost looked like you from behind.  You’re gonna feel so good on my cock, I know you want it so bad.”

He took his fingers out of you to reach back and open his belt with one hand, the sound of the buckle matched in upsettingness only by the sound of his jeans sliding down to his thighs.

You heard your own breath loud and heavy against his hand as you felt his hard cock press against your thigh, a drop of precum smearing on your skin.  Your breathing halted suddenly, though, when he slid himself between your legs to rub his cock over your exposed and swollen pussy.

“Oh, babygirl, you really are too good to me,” he grinned, kissing your ear tenderly.  “So fucking wet and ready for me, huh?  You need it that bad?  You’re gonna get it, baby, ‘m gonna give it to you so good…”

Bracing yourself as best you could, you felt the head of his cock push against your entrance before he slammed in all at once, making you hiss in pain.

“Oh god,” he groaned, “fuck, you’re so warm…”

Already he was fucking into you roughly, pumping faster and deeper, paying no mind to your choked sobs of pain from the wide stretch.  Even when it stung it felt oddly good, and the underside of his cock seemed to slide perfectly over your g-spot with each movement until your eyes began to roll back in your head.

“So fucking good,” he moaned hoarsely as he braced you against the brick wall for leverage, reaching back down with his free hand to rub your clit again.  He chuckled when your legs quivered, and he must have felt your walls tighten around him, too.  “I wanna hear those pretty moans, baby, if I take my hand away are you gonna be good?” he asked darkly.  You nodded, enjoying the brief feeling of freedom that came from not having his hand over your mouth anymore.  But then again, it was humiliating that now he could hear your panting breaths, your desperate mewls that you failed to swallow down.

He made a sound that was almost like a laugh as he watched you squirm in his arms, one more way he had to lord this all over you, as if forcing you to take him in an alley wasn’t enough on its own.

His breath against your ear was hot and strained, each meeting of your hips to his accentuated with a little grunt from him.  It didn’t help at all that his fingers were rubbing you just right, with so much skill that you wondered if he’d somehow figured out how you touched yourself when you needed to get off.  Honestly, you wouldn’t put it past him to have spied on you before, even if you couldn’t figure out when or how.

The hand that used to cover your mouth slid up under your shirt and pulled your bra down, a large, rough hand groping each breast and pinching your nipples until you bit down on your lip to stay quiet.  For all the mocking and teasing he’d done before, he was pretty direct now— like he was trying to make you come as fast as possible, overloading your body with sensation.  

And did he have to be so fucking good at it?

“I know you’re close, babygirl,” he whispered in your ear, “just let go…”

“Jake, please,” you sobbed, too far gone to appreciate that no begging would make him stop now.

“Come for me,” he demanded roughly, fucking you even faster as he sucked a mark onto your neck, and finally it all came crashing down with a choked-out cry of his name and a gush of warmth dripping out around his length.

“Ohh fuck, there you go, fuck it feels good when you come for me,” he grunted, thrusting even faster.  “You’re gonna milk my cock with that pretty pussy, babygirl— you’re gonna make me come…”

“J-Jake, not inside!” you interjected, getting his hand back over your mouth in return.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he soothed, “waited too long for this to pull out now.  Feels too fucking good.”

Behind his hand, the difference between whines of hatred and moans of pleasure was irritatingly subtle.

“I love you,” he reminded you in a voice exhausted yet heavy with desire, “so fucking much…”

A few more erratic, brutal thrusts accompanied by heavy pants and he was gone; you could feel his cock pulsing with each rope of come that filled you, so deep that your head fell dejectedly with the realization you had no hope of washing it out now.

His hand fell from your mouth but he didn’t pull out for another few moments as he caught his breath, gently peppering your neck and cheek in slow kisses.  “Baby,” he finally sighed, breaking the crushing silence, “you’re so fucking perfect.  I knew you were made for me.”

I hate you, you wanted to cry out, but words escaped you as he hugged you tightly and pulled your panties back into place, soaking them with his come as it leaked out of you just like he’d promised.  He stuffed his cock back into his jeans and helped you adjust your clothes back to looking almost presentable, finishing it off by turning you around and smiling at you with serene pride before kissing your forehead.

"You're gonna make such a beautiful prom queen," he cooed, “especially if you’ve already got a nice little bump showing…”

His hand rubbed beneath your belly button for emphasis, making you whimper and force your eyes shut as tears rolled down your cheeks.

"Shh, don’t cry, baby,” he soothed, kissing your cheek softly.  “Trust me, you're gonna love being my girl."

[punemy-spotted]

The Price You Pay

Pairing: Mob!Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Non-con/Dub-con, mentions of murder, unclear timeline, blackmail, unprotected sex, fingering (F!receiving), smut, esoteric references to past abuse, manipulation, Dark!Fic

Words: 5.2k (holy fuck?)

Summary: You need his help. He names his price.

Notes: This is for @stargazingfangirl18 and her incredible 5K Soft!Dark Challenge and I can't believe I wrote over 5k words for a oneshot, making this the longest piece I've ever written. I took a blend of prompts: Mob!AU; “When I woke up this morning, I certainly didn’t think my day would end like this;” and “That’s a big favor you’re asking for, I think you need to make it worth my while.”

And this was intended to be a oneshot but now I can't stop thinking about it so thanks Siri, I think this is now a part of my WIPs too! Your work is amazing and I had a blast being able to take part in this!

As usual, my work is 18+ ONLY, Minors DO NOT INTERACT

You went to him first.

You went to him, handed them your business card and I want to speak to Steve Rogers.

Honestly they almost threw you out with an extra hole in your head but then the man of the hour walked right in.

So now you’re here. Now you’re here, sitting across a gorgeous dining table with a ten-course meal laid out and honestly you’re surprised they didn’t tie your wrists to the arms of the chair while you watch him eat and take in the look of those baby blue eyes scanning you over.

He even brought you non-alcoholic rosé, when you said you didn’t drink.

So.

So.

You wanted to talk to me?

Yeah, I do. Thought you’d just sit me in your office, have a consultation.

I like breaking bread with new friends. Have a nice dinner, get the wine flowing — of course, that’s not gonna loosen your tongue, but we’ll forgive it.

Oh. Cool, I like being forgiven.

He laughs at that one and the room, strumming with tension, snaps into amusement. So do you, cracking a half smile on dark red lips, before swallowing down the lump of anxiety threatening to break through and destroy everything. You need this. You need this and you can’t let anything — not your nervousness, not your morals, not him — stop you. You need this and it needs to be done and if this is what justice is in this fucking city then so be it.

Well, sweetness, you’ve got my attention. You want to talk business or pleasure?

That one makes you laugh, a little sharp and a little cruel, and the curling smirk on his face gets a little furrowed because he hears it too — pain.

It could be both, you say finally, picking up the glass of rosé-that-wasn’t, if your reputation is as real as they say it is.

He lifts a bite of cheesecake into his mouth and lets it melt on his tongue while he watches you, somewhere between impressed and incensed. You know the look — you saw it the last time he met you in court, but you weren’t there as allies then. Never thought you’d come to me, he admits finally, sounding halfway bemused at the idea, but you’re full of surprises, aren’t you, Counsel?

You wince, or maybe smirk, eyes on the man before you.

It’s a game, a dance, a ruse, and the woman you thought you were thirteen months ago when you put four of Steve Rogers’s best men in jail for fifteen years — fifteen years longer than any District Attorney had ever managed to do before you, and you were just the rookie they handed a shit case to — is leagues different from the woman you are now, seated prim and proper in the lion’s den.

You’re not innocent. That’s not been your game for years — this life doesn’t leave room for innocence, it tears at you, leaves you tired and broken and ill.

Your colleagues learned to fear him a long time ago, the man before you. Captain America, leading the city, the country, the world into a new era of high tech crime all under his thumb. It’s a pretty shiny shield, the one that sits behind him, but mirrors are black on the other side and his soul is dark as coal.

You’re not an angel yourself, and this deal with the Devil isn’t for anyone but you.

I need someone taken care of.

So you come to me? I thought you were a lady of morals, Counsel.

Certain kinds of morals.

You can see him smile, see the way he raises his glass, the glimmer of malice and amusement in his eyes. So tell me. What’s the name?

You give it.

He’s not in the city, your target, but he will be. A Judge, an activist, real tough-on-crime-sweet-on-justice type of shit. You don’t tell him the reasons why, because those are yours, but you tell him the name. You tell him he’s a problem, you tell him he’s dangerous, you tell him you’ll pay to have him taken care of, you tell him you don’t want to practice in front of that black, black robe.

And he smiles like the Devil he is, watches you with a grin and drinks his whiskey in one last shot before slamming it down, Real woman of the law, aren’t you?

You said that when we met the first time.

He’s a hunter, you can see it in his eyes. That lion’s mane might be tamed right now but it won’t be for long and you’re playing with wild animals. The eyes on you are ice and daggers, daring you to do the one thing everyone in the office has been begging you not to do.

(Drop the charges, Rookie, the case is just to get your face in front of the judge.)

You upped the charges.

(Rookie, you don’t know what you’re dealing with, there’s other cases.)

You subpoenaed his phone records.

(Rookie, don’t make me drag you off this case!)

You won.

You had no witnesses and a jury you had to drag in from god-knows-where after you proved, over and over again, that he’d paid off the cohort in the courtroom. Finding people with nothing to lose and a desire to do their civic duty wasn’t harder than you thought — it was exactly as impossible as you expected.

But you did it.

That’s what you do, isn’t it? Push and push and fight, claw your fingers at the ledge and pull yourself up, you pay for your crimes in your blood, sweat and tears you pay for the things you could have done then and didn’tdo.

You pay.

And sometimes, that payment bounces back.

And when it was all said and done, when the closing statements were delivered, when the Jury came back out and the Judge — hands shaking, mouth agape, eyes wide — read out the verdict no one expected, you… didn’t feel any better, did you? There was no justice for you in that room, just the searing glare of ice-blue eyes and the burning of your steel spine.

Real woman of the law, aren’t you?

First words he said to you, while the courtroom emptied out and you stood there, facing the man you’d just made an enemy of with your briefcase in your hand and your eyes aflame.

I did my job.

Did you? Is that what you think your job is?

My job is justice, unflinching and blind, Mr. Rogers. I don’t care how much power you have or how afraid you leave this city, I’m going to do my job.

You could always let justice turn a blind eye.

Yeah. I could, but that wouldn’t make this any fun, would it? Thank you for the win, Mr. Rogers — I’m sure I won’t get many more.

You leave him with a smile on his face and the scent of your perfume in his memories.

He leaves you with the pride of victory in your bones and a reminder that your strife could be worth it.

One day.

How do you plan to fill that pit, the one you tossed the corpses of your old self into? The one you let them claw up out of, to haunt you? Remind you?

You’re digging your own grave and you know it, but you won’t let Steven Grant Rogers be the first one to toss a handful of dirt over your corpse.

But now here you are.

In his dining room, enjoying dessert and some sort of after-meal coffee. In need of him…

This might almost have been a date, if not for the topic of conversation.

So. You want a Judge taken out. What if he’s already on my payroll?

Why would you keep a dead man in your pocket?

You like the sound of his laugh, and you don’t even have the excuse of wine to fall back on when it warms your core. Don’t admit it though, don’t say it aloud, don’t let him get an in. Be smart, cross your legs tighter, keep your eyes on the prize.

You’re so close to the finish line.

That’s a big favor you’re asking for, Counsel, I think you need to make it worth my while.

Worth your while?

I’m not a charity. And since you put the guy I usually use to handle these things behind bars for a few years—

You know I can get him out too.

That’s not payment, that’s putting things right.

You take a drink. Steady on, girl.

I’m leaving the DA’s office.

That stops him.

Oh that stops him good, and he looks fascinated. Interested. You’ve said something he can use as leverage and it’s not just about a job. That smirk on his face is smug and his eyes are darker and he has to know the impact that look has.

Can’t falter, don’t falter, don’t give in.

Am I allowed to ask why?

No.

You’ve done your research. You just don’t know why you’re thinking about it now. Steven Grant Rogers, “Captain America,” leader of a crime family that had too many names to stamp out, bolstered by a mad scientist, a military man through-and-through who turned New York into his own private base against whatever stood against his way.

Get in his good graces and you’re set for life. Get in his good graces and you’re safe, you’re protected, you’re good.

Get on his bad side and you only make that mistake once.

There are no second chances in this game, and here you are, asking for one.

So what? You leave the DA’s office, you leave yourself open to me — you think leaving New York is going to be the thing that stops me, Counsel?

No.

Then what?

Breathe. Steady.

I know you gave me that win on purpose — you could have taken out my last jury cohort. This isn’t about the four men… and you know I’ll get them out. This is something else, but I’m not here to ask about what or why.

He falters just briefly, like he’s surprised you knew, but the crack in his mask smooths itself over as soon as it forms and he’s back to watching you, nodding along in silence while you breathe and watch him and keep talking.

But even then. I got four of your guys in prison. And I know how your organization works — I subpoenaed the documents, remember? Your lawyers are good, but they’re not used to people asking the right questions. You want someone to seal up the cracks you need someone who actually knows what to look for.

You have more than his attention, you have his interest, and now he’s leaning in a little. Imperceptibly, but enough. Scanning over you from across the table, like he’s thinking how you managed to get so impertinent in the face of the likes of him but that’s the thing — when the only thing you have left to lose is your life, you’ll risk everything.

So what are you offering?

Breathe. Don’t. Stammer.

Myself.

The chair scrapes and suddenly there’s the clicking of guns, aimed and ready until his hand rises up and he stops them and he’s stalking towards you.

This is the lion’s den, sweetness.

The stakes are higher and you ought to be braver and he’s got your chin in his hand before you have a chance to react, dragging you to your feet. Do you know what you’re offering me, Counsel? Low and hissed and hungry, like those perfect teeth might be sinking into your throat in the next moment.

Oh, you have no idea.

You get me. On your payroll — you know. The offer you sent me a year ago.

You think it’s still open?

If it wasn’t, you wouldn’t have met with me.

The chuckle in your face makes your cheeks warm and you’re looking more flushed than you would like, the open shoulders of your dress suddenly feeling a lot more like a mistake the more you realize just what kind of meal he might make out of you tonight.

We might need to have a discussion about your workplace duties, Counsel.

You don’t notice the hand near your thigh until it’s too late, sliding up the soft fabric of your skirt until it’s squeezing your ass, until it’s jerking you towards him, until you’re pressed against his chest and the hand on your chin is now hooked around the back of your neck, thumb pushing your jaw until you’re forced to look at him. Won’t lie, when I woke up this morning, I certainly didn’t think my day would end like this, having your pretty little body in my arms,and you can look as indignant as you want but he’s got the upper hand and you only thought you were two steps ahead of him.

You think I haven’t thought about what it’d be like to put you in your place, Counsel? You’ve got a smart mouth — I wanna know what else it can do.

He doesn’t give you a chance to use that mouth to lash at him, lips sliding over yours, swallowing that indignant yelp with a punishing kiss. Nipping at the plushness of your lower lip until you open your mouth and yield to him with a sigh of reluctant surrender, let his tongue slide past that barrier for him to explore. He’s got his fingers wound through your hair, just a little too tight and whether the whimper in your chest is because of the pain or because of the want, he doesn’t care.

Knew you’d be sweet, Counsel… softly, when he pulls back to look at you, take a look at those love-swollen lips and your ruined lipstick, the pretty way you pant at him already, the heat burning your cheeks. Pay no attention to the slick warmth between your thighs, pay no attention to the way he makes you burn already, pay no attention to how your fingers have curled into the lapel of his coat to hold yourself steady, pay no attention to how you suddenly miss the pressure of his lips.

All that smart-talk and now you’re quiet, Counsel? F’I knew it just took a kiss to get you to shut up, I would’ve done that at trial, he’s purring in your ear, soft and sweet and you should push at his chest, so uncurl your fingers girl and push.

I didn’t say I was selling my body, there’s your harshness, and there he is, laughing at you again, the grip on your hair jerking your head back until you’re looking into those dagger-cold eyes again.

You don’t make the rules here, Counsel, I do, and you need me more than I need you. So if you want to make sure your Judge can’t start wreaking havoc on your career… you might want to get used to readjusting it for me. I promise I’ll make you feel nice, if you let me…

And if I don’t?

Then I take what I want and I don’t feel bad for not holding up my end of the bargain. Your choice, Counsel, you cum willingly and I’ll give you everything you want. Don’t, and it’ll hurt you more than it hurts me.

That’s not a threat, that’s a promise, and suddenly you’re more scared than you ever thought you’d be, wondering if you’ll need to sell another part of your soul to take him down after. How much of yourself will you put up as collateral to get justice for the wrongs you were never able to correct?

You’re afraid.

Oh sweetness, you’re afraid.

Here? Now?

No, Counsel, we’re gonna do this right, aren’t we? You wanna be in bed with me, I’ll take you to bed with me. Come on, say it. Say the word.

Say no. Say no, rail and fight, stamp your heels into the expensive leather of his shoes, jam your knee into the sensitive between his legs, scream and yell and tell him you will never let another man take advantage of you again to help you reach your goals. Do it. Do the thing you swore you would do the next time a man like him — men who think they can take anything from anyone, men who think they own the world and the women in it, men who think you aren’t strong enough to fight back — propositioned you just like this.

You’re selling your soul to get rid of a man just like this.

But that’s coiling heat in your core that wasn’t there the last time, was it? That’s want. That’s the realization that you like the way this predatory smile feels, that you like the way this one wants you. You’re not her, not scared and alone and helpless. You could fight back and run and maybe escape if you were lucky.

You could choose.

He’s let go of your hair to stroke your cheek with the backs of his fingers, soft and sweet, You gonna give me an answer, Counsel, or am I gonna have to take it?

Say something. Say no. Scream. Say no say no say no say— Yes.

It’s a whisper. A desperate, soft whisper. A helpless, lonely whisper. It’s enough.

He sweeps you around until you’re pressed with your back against his unyielding chest, feeling him flex with every movement, broad arm wrapped around your shoulders from the front. All of you are dismissed, and that’s when you remember there were others in the room with you. Others who just watched you concede to becoming Captain America’s newest plaything and the burn on your cheeks is more shame than lust. You pull at his arm briefly, futilely, earning a tighter hold for your efforts and a whispered don’t make me choke you, before you are half-walked, half-dragged out of the dining room.

The walk to his room is slow and agonizing as you’re pulled along, barely struggling but barely helping at the same time, tears sliding down your cheeks as you come to terms with what’s going to happen next — no one is going to save you tonight, no one’s going to interrupt and drag you out, this is your job and this is your place and here you are.

No one speaks. There’s no sound but the steady tap of your heels and his shoes on fine marble. Even your sobs are silent, even your breathing is muffled, until the stairs are traversed and the faintest click of a lock turning opens the door to the rest of your life.

You made a deal.

Time to pay.

Sit on the bed.

You move as if in a trance, and he watches your face, the hint of waterproof mascara failing to do its job, the smudged ruby red of your lipstick. Don’t give me that look, you knew what you were signing up for when you walked into this house, Counsel.

His hands are gentler than you’d expect, when he wipes away the streaks your tears leave down your pretty cheeks, coaxing you to look up at him, We’ll set ground rules later. Tonight? I wanna see if I can get that mouth of yours to beg for me.

It won’t, you snap without thinking, knifeblade sharp and cruel, ready for a fight again. He promised you that once, in a hiss you thought you’d misheard but no, you heard him just fine and now if he thinks he can quench your fire and have you pleading just because you sold your body for the prospect of revenge then he’s wrong.

Thing is, he laughs like that’s a challenge, and the hand holding your chin so gently is wrapped around your throat before you know it, silencing your voice with just the right application of pressure. I can do this all night, Counsel. Do you think you can last that long?

Fear. Anger. Indignation. You are fury made flesh and he is manipulating you with just the barest press of his palm and sliding over you, until you’re laid out there on soft sheets and he’s looming over you, splaying that big hand out and sliding it down your throat, over your chest, feeling the ruching of the fabric under his palm. You wrapped yourself up like a present for me, didn’t you sweetness?

The change in nickname isn’t lost on you but here you are, glaring up at him while he smiles so beatifically it leaves your blood boiling and your skin steadily warming. The rise and fall of your chest is hypnotic, every angry breath a swear you don’t utter, every inhale your protests dying in your throat. What can you say, what would you say, right now? There’s nothing that can change the way he looks at you, or the way his eyes flicker from ice to blue fire the more he takes stock of the pretty little thing he’s about to start sharing his bed with.

Fuck, you’re beautiful, that one shocks you, but not as much as the sudden rush of cold air when he tears the emerald green fabric of your dress down and reveals the soft swells of your breasts, nipples peaked from the sudden cold.

You don’t get much time to gasp, just something soft and strangled before he turns your voice to whimpers, wrapping lips around that pebbled tip and laving his tongue over sensitive flesh. Where are your words now, Counsel, while he threatens the softness of your chest with the scrape of his teeth, when he slides his hands over the round curve of your thighs and parts your legs so he can press himself between them, so he can press himselfagainst you? Where is the knife-dagger of your wit to protest each soft, suckling kiss to your skin, each press of his fingers like he could just squeeze his ownership of you into the plushness of your hips, into the sweet swell of your ass? What do you say to the dirty little thrust of his hips as he bucks with his own burning need, reminding you just how much this is for hispleasure as he will make it for yours.

You would, could, should push him off and instead what are you doing? Curling your fingers into the silk-smooth of his comforter, desperate to writhe out of your own skin away from the burning pressure between your thighs, the foreign, unfamiliar heat you suddenly feel like you might be craving.

Anyone ever touch you like this before me, Counsel?Warm breath splays across your skin when he questions you, eyes fixed on yours and he waits. Answer him, answer him, tell him he’s nothing, tell him you’ve had better, lie and destroy that ego, lie lie lie lie—

Nnnh—no.

He looks like you’ve just told him the best news of his life, eyes wide and blown with lust, Oh is that right? You’re saying no one’s ever touched you this good? Or just no one’s ever touched you at all?

You don’t have to answer. The furious blush on your cheeks? The way your eyes slide away from his? The way you writhe, trying to press your thighs together to relieve the pressure and finding the effort futile? If the man’s grin could get any wider, it would, right now. Oh sweetness, we’re going to have so much fun exploring your body together…

He pulls back just enough to take a look at you, already flushed and writhing and overwhelmed and if he could take a picture of this right now he would. He’ll save that for later though. Tonight? Tonight is just the two of you, and his hands are back to your skirt, pushing the tight fabric up over your round hips and revealing the lace of your panties… just before he rips them off, to the sound of your indignant yelp Steve!

You’re going to call me Captain, sweetness, we’re not close enough to use my name just yet.

No. No you’re not, and he’s not sure you’ll ever be — he rather likes the idea of hearing you whimper out his title when he gets you desperate and wanting.

He touches, slow and steady, watching you try to jerk away and tutting at you when you do, fingers at your delicate nerves like an assault on your pleasure. Bite your lip, bite back the moans, whine at him like he’s wounded you, You’re so wet, sweetness, you’re so desperate for me aren’t you, as he palms his cock to relieve the pressure on himself. You’re going to beg before he does and he’s patient, he’ll last the night.

St-stop it, it’s too— he shushes you ahtahtaht and rests his free hand on your mound, holding you down so his probing, inspecting fingers can take stock of the velveteen plushness of your delicate cunt. It’s too much, too much and you want to scream the moment he presses one finger into you, already overwhelmed, already so tightly wound the barest touches are unraveling you steadily.

You’re such a pretty thing, all desperate and needy, sweetness. You wanna cum already, don’t you? So busy, never gave anyone the chance to fuck that stuck-up bitch right out of you, did they? It’s almost pitying, isn’t it, the way he talks, hums at you while you’re reduced to a whining, whimpering mess so soon, so desperate for the release he’s on the edge of denying you, feeling you flexing around his finger and then the second leaping jolt of your body when another joins the inspection. Taking careful stock of the pretty cunt he owns now, and he’s careful to curl his fingers just right as he seeks the spot to hammer just to get you to scream.

You don’t, not yet, but that’s okay too, because he sees the way you take desperate hold of the sheets, the way your eyes roll backwards just slightly, the way you strain against his heavy hand to arch your back. Gotta tell you, sweetness, I imagined you under me a thousand and one ways but this one, right now? Tops the list. You ready to beg for me?

Do it. Do it and end your pleasurable torment. Do it and be released from the pressure, the coiling want. Surrender to him. Let him have you.

The white hot rush of your orgasm is not unexpected to him, his curling, cruel fingers having found the sweetness of your g-spot, but — you, too busy climbing the ranks to think of your own pleasure, too busy demanding your due from an unjust world explore your own warmth beyond that of a memory of a college hookup you would rather forget — you left breathless and wanton in the heat of the explosion he draws out of you, mewling something desperate and pleading against your own will and the song of it fills his ears like it’s all he’s ever wanted. There it is, and I thought we’d be here all night. A thumb flickers over the nerves at your entrance and you practically jump, something between a yelp and a moan escaping your lips.

First one’s just a treat, sweetness. Now on, you cum when I say you do, understand?

You nod.

Oh you nod, and you are lost, here and now. Sensitive and broken and there is so little of that steel spine here, writhing in his sheets and ohyou don’t know the things you do to him.

Think you can go again, sweetness? He’s purring, smug, twisting fingers stretching you slowly, muttering under his breath about how fucking tight you are around his fingers, how good you’re going to feel for him, and the smugness on his face is slowly fading into a dark consternation, brows furrowed like he’s somehow angry at you for being plush and delicate and fuckable.

You’re almost begging him to stop, and yet the pressure is building again, the twisting, coiling heat that leaves you breathless and mewling and he looks like he might be trying to immortalize this moment forever. Say it, sweetness. Say you need me. Beg me for my cock.

That’s it.

That’s what you need to, you need to beg, you need to give in. No more fighting, no more arguing no more —

Please…

Please what, sweetness, come on now. You got a way with words. The snarl is so barely contained.

Please, Captain, please just…

What do you need, sweetness? The fingers are relentless, the buzz in your nerves is overwhelming, you can barely even hear yourself talk, much less him.

Please just fuck me, Captain, I need your cock! It’s hurried and it’s crude and it’s desperate and it’s exactly what he wants as just another wall crumbles and you fall off your pedestal right into his arms.

He’s barely able to resist the buck of his hips, the need to be inside you, the knowledge that you are soft and velvet and you could be all over his senses just like this.

When did he free his cock? You don’t know, you just know it’s practically salvation when he sinks into you, when he fills you like you’ve been desperate for and Oh sweetness…pours from his lips just as you hiss out something like praise right back at him.

You’re so full and he’s so gentle, at first, like you’re made of crystal in his arms, like the slow shifting of his hips might have you shattering underneath him if he’s not careful. Cradling you, even, sliding your legs around his narrow hips as he leans in and takes a hungry kiss from your wanting, whimpering mouth.

Love this look on you, all wrapped around me, whispered low and slow into your ear, sweetness you have no idea how good you look…

Melt into those compliments, melt into him, because the way he’s holding you is divine and you can feel him so deep in you it’s making your head spin. When did your arms end up around him? When did you start clinging to him like an anchor, start winding your fingers through his hair, start leaving the marks of your nails on his back to the sound of his own needy groaning?

He noses your cheek and leaves a mark of ownership on your neck with hungry lips, knowing you’ll bruise a beautiful flower right over your pulsebeat and continuing the steady assault on your nerves, cunt-first.

Harder. Faster. More.

And oh, sweetness, you do shatter.

You shatter all around him, you shatter into something divine and rapturous, full of him and filled with him and he cums so deep inside you as you do, still fucking you through your joined climax, hips rutting and breath hitching and nearly furious at you for the way his vision whites out too, the way he feels like he can Never get enough and so he hisses that at you like an accusation while his thoughts reorient back to reality, back to smugness, back to the control you took from him while he tried to strip you of yours.

In the end, as he pulls away from you and sinks to the side of you, watching your sweet expression as you return to the reality of your new situation, he is satisfied… thoroughly.

Oh yeah, I think we can make this a working relationship, Counsel.

[r3volutionary-queen]

The Butterfly Effect Pt. 2

Summary: [“Don’t give me your throat unless you mean it.”]

Pairing: Alpha!Andy Barber x Omega!Reader

Word Count: 14.8K

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Here there be explicit language, dystopian society, awful tyrannical government organizations, misogynistic issues, subject of imprisonment/captivity, manipulation, discussion of noncon breeding, threat of violence, general sexual content, thigh riding, and praise kink. I think I got them all…

Author’s Note: Well, fuck. This was a lot more than I anticipated. What was meant to originally be a oneshot will now be a... threeshot? I think I have a problem and his name is Andy Barber. I promise though, we're going somewhere... This is also a part of my wife’s 5k Soft!Dark Challenge! YAY! Thank you @stargazingfangirl18 for being such a wonderful and supportive spouse and for frothing at the mouth with me over Alpha!Andy. You are the sweetest.

**(((((()))))) = scene divider because there were too many scenes to have the fancy butterflies in one post**

Read PART ONE if you haven't yet or else this will make no sense.

Part Two

You dreamed of a world full of threads.

You hadn’t been aware of them before, but they were all you could see now. Threads that became a dark, tangled web with no escape—and you were right in the center. Strings and ropes and chains surrounded you on all sides, gnarled hands and withered fingers, all of them reaching and grasping and searching.

For you.

One wrong move, one wrong breath, the trap would spring and you would be ensnared.

Lost.

Taken.

Forever.

You dreamed and fear began to fill you, like a boat taking on water. With every inhale you sank deeper and deeper and—

A weight, like a heavy winter blanket, settled over your mind. It was soft and warm and so very strong, and it began to block out everything—your terror, your anxiety, your worry. Until there was nothing at all. Nothing but calm, quiet night.

And yet, in that darkness, one thread remained.

Glittering silver, like the sun sparkling off the surface of a lake. It didn’t reach for you; it didn’t need to. It had already slipped beneath your skin, weaving between your ribs until it wrapped around your heart.

But you were not afraid.

(((((())))))

Several hours had passed when you finally woke up. Your body was sluggish, not wanting to move from its place on the bed. Rubbing a hand over your face, you turned your head to the large window. It was covered with thick blackout curtains, but there, just around the edges, you caught the barest streaks of the morning sun trying to cut through the darkness.

You wanted to rip back the curtains and let all the light in.

You were still staring at the window when the door cracked open. Soft golden light spilled into the room and sent the shadows skittering. You sat up in the plush bed, hissing sharply as your aching muscles protested the sudden movement.

Andy was a dark silhouette filling the doorway.

“Did I wake you?” He asked in a hushed voice.

“No,” you said, softly. “I’ve been up for a while. I…” you paused, hesitating as your mind flew to your strange dreams. Frowning, you merely shook your head, “I could smell the food.”

It wasn’t entirely a lie. The smells wafting under the door had been an onslaught to your newly sensitive nose; coffee, eggs, pancakes, bacon—the works.

“Ah,” Andy relaxed and leaned his shoulder against the doorframe with a quirk of his lips. “Well, I hope it smells good.”

You nodded eagerly. After only being allowed broth and crackers last night, you were more than ready for something substantial. Your stomach growled in agreement and from the doorway, Andy chuckled in that low, gravelly way of his.

He glanced over his shoulder at the brightly lit room behind him and turned back to you, brows lifting. “Do you want to come out here to—”

“No!”

The word leapt off your tongue like oil hitting a hot pan. Silence filled the space between the two of you.

“I…” you tried to talk around the lump of fear that fisted at the base of your throat. You weren’t ready. The mere thought of leaving this room, the same room you had been in since waking up from your heat the day before, sent you into an irrational kind of panic. Swallowing with a grimace, you finally managed to squeak out, “Can I stay in here for now, please?”

For a long time, Andy just stared at you, concerned, and then, as if a sudden realization came upon him, his whole demeanor changed.

“Of course, you can. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking…” the Alpha trailed off with a sigh. A second later he lifted his head and smiled sweetly at you. “You just hang tight. I’ll be right back.”

Your brows pinched as you watched him turn and slip quietly out of the room. And then it hit you like a gunshot to the chest.

A handsome man was about to bring you breakfast in bed and you weren’t even wearing pants.

Eyes rounding dramatically, you scrambled out from underneath the heavy covers, nearly tumbling out of the bed in your rush. You tip toed across the room to the dresser, knees wobbling like a newborn giraffe. Ripping open a drawer, you snagged the first pair of sweats you could find and gracelessly tugged them up over your hips, rolling them at the waist so that the legs wouldn’t drag across the ground. The shirt Andy had given you had stretched out a bit overnight and was now sliding off one shoulder, but you didn’t have time to find another.

Not when you became aware that there was something glaringly wrong with the bed.

You didn’t know what exactly was wrong, but you knew that you needed to fix it—starting with the pillows. Fluffing them, you rearranged them in an absolute frenzy at least four different times before shoving the heels of your palms into your eyes in frustration. They didn’t look the way you wanted, but the problem was that you didn’t even know what you wanted. Eventually you gave up on the pillows and moved on to try and smooth out the lumpy feather comforter.

Stepping back, you took in your work and your heart fell.

It wasn’t right.

A tiny growl erupted out of you as you scrambled clumsily back onto the bed. Spinning on your knees, you had just grabbed the pillows again when a throat cleared.

Later, you would swear that your heart actually stopped.

Dropping the pillows at your side, you twisted around, eyes lowered to the wrinkled comforter, whole body deflating like a sad balloon. If you were both going to eat breakfast in here, then you at least wanted the place to look… to look…

You searched for the word but came up short. A whine built up in your throat, but you swallowed it down before it could sneak its way past your lips. You knew Andy was watching you closely, his gaze was a physical weight, but you couldn’t bring yourself to even look at him.

You didn’t know what he was thinking and a part of you didn’t want to know because if you were disappointed in yourself then he, an Alpha, would surely—

“It’s perfect.”

Jolting, your head snapped up.

Andy stood still, a heavy tray of delicious smelling food balancing in his hands, and his heart in his eyes. Unable to handle the way he was looking at you, the emotion sitting so bare in his face, you dropped your gaze back to your lap. Twisting your fingers together, your shoulder hitched up to your ear and you wrinkled your nose.

“It’s not right,” you mumbled eventually.

Footsteps approached and there was a soft scraping sound as the tray was carefully slid onto the top of the dresser. You stayed very still.

A moment later a gentle knuckle tucked under your chin, lifting your head. Even in the dim lightning of the room, Andy’s eyes seemed to glow with an otherworldly kind of gold. He held your gaze for a long moment and the gnarled tree root that worry and fear and panic had twisted your heart into unwound itself with a soft sigh.

“No, Butterfly,” Andy whispered. “This is a perfect nest.”

Nest.

You were nesting.

Because you were an Omega.

A shiver skittered up your spine and left your mouth with a trembling exhale. His words of approval and acceptance waged war with your newly developed instincts. Slowly, you reached up and wrapped your fingers around his wrist, needing to hold onto something solid, needing to tether yourself to this world (and there wasn’t anything or anyone you could think of who was more grounded than this Alpha).

Andy’s pulse leapt wildly beneath your touch and those golden eyes glinted. It made you dizzy. And when his thumb dragged across the sensitive skin just beneath your bottom lip, you all but went under. Your eyes slid shut and you swayed on your knees, mind completely gone.

This Alpha was dangerously intoxicating.

Calloused fingers trailed down your chin, under your jaw, skimming along the side of your throat. A tingling kind of thrill rushed through you, gathering in your chest and pushing out through your nipples in an electric wave until they hardened almost painfully. You arched your back with a breathy sigh when Andy’s warm palm settled in the space where your neck met your shoulder.

His thumb brushed over your thrumming pulse. “You did so good, Omega.”

You felt those low, throaty words in your goddamn toes. They curled unintentionally and a nervous, fluttering kind of energy bubbled up in your blood. It simmered and came to a rushing boil, spilling out of your mouth in the form of a single note chirp.

The noise jolted you out of whatever haze you had fallen into and your eyes flew open, shocked and a little embarrassed at the new sound.

“Sorry, I…” you started, voice raspy and weak, and then you cleared your throat and tried again, louder—“Sorry.”

Andy gently squeezed your shoulder and ducked down to try to catch your eyes. “What was that, Omega?”

You flicked your gaze to the side, avoiding Andy’s searching look.

“I said sorry.”

“No, not that,” he rumbled. “The other. Make that sound again.”

Lips flattening, you slid your gaze back to the Alpha, giving him a look. But when Andy just smiled encouragingly, the corners of his eyes crinkling, you realized that he wasn’t making fun of you—he genuinely wanted to hear it again.

At his gentle urging, you swallowed and tried to conjure up the chirp again, reaching down into a part of you that was so unfamiliar, so new, so untried—

And nothing.

Sighing, you shook your head. “I can’t. I don’t know how. I wasn’t thinking about it when it happened. It just… happened.”

“You’re letting the human part of you get in the way,” Andy explained and you frowned. “The hindbrain isn’t concerned about what others thinks. It just acts. You’re going to need to learn to trust that part of you.”

You just stared up at him, feeling even more lost. His gaze softened, blue eyes framed by those ridiculously long, dark lashes of his.

“I can help, if you’d like,” he offered gently.

Shyly, you nodded and he tapped the side of your thigh twice. You scooted over so he could sit down on the edge of the bed. There was a playful, almost boyish quality to his grin, like this was something he always wanted to try. Andy cleared his throat and then wet his lips and locked eyes with you as he made a low, huffing sort of sound.

Instantly you chirped back, as though his call had summoned a part of you that you weren’t able to control on your own.

Eyes wide, your mouth dropped open in complete and utter shock and Andy laughed. He repeated the sound and immediately you called back, though your chirp was slightly warped by your nervous giggle.

“See?” He nudged your still shocked form, grinning and so fucking proud. “That wasn’t so hard. It’s just a form of vocalization for us. It cuts past all the jargon and gets straight to the point. Most of the time I prefer that over navigating all the details.”

Shifting further back onto the bed, you winced, still feeling the soreness from your heat though it was growing duller by the moment. You crossed your legs and tilted your head at the Alpha, considering his explanation. “So, what does that chirp mean?”

Andy just looked at you.

“What do you feel when you make that sound?”

You took a moment to think about it, to examine the emotions swirling inside you and landed on three things.

“Happy,” you told him. “Content…” your mouth twisted and you ducked your head, shoulders hunching, “a little flustered.”

Andy nodded, lifting both brows. “There you go. You’ll be a pro at this in no time. But first,” he slapped his thighs and pushed up off the bed. “You need to eat.”

Your gaze followed the Alpha as he walked over to the dresser and somewhere deep inside you, there was a tug in the center of your chest.

(((((())))))

You passed out not long after breakfast.

It was so strange, the exhaustion. Your heat was clearly over but you still felt like you had been run over by a semi. Just pulling yourself out of bed and walking over to the adjoining bathroom took a concentrated effort.

You had also expected the change to be more… drastic. At least physically. But as you peeled off the sweatpants and the oversized shirt you wore and stared into the bathroom mirror in nothing but your own skin, twisting this way and that, there were only two noticeable differences.

The first was the fact that your eyes seemed to have been replaced with living coals. No matter how many times you blinked, they kept that same golden glow you had only seen flashes of in Andy’s gaze. You didn’t know what that meant or if it was permanent, but it was strange to look into the mirror and see someone else’s eyes staring out of your own face.

The second was the ultra-sensitive patch of raised skin in the pocket of soft flesh right above your clavicle. You never remembered your mother mentioning these things pulsing and throbbing, but yours certainly did.

Even as your eyes fell to it now, it seemed to have a mind of its own, waking up like a grumpy toddler to angrily demand your attention.

You stared at it for a long moment, tilting your head to the side, lips parting as you lifted a hand and carefully reached out a single finger, just to see if it would ease the—

You gasped audibly.

The instant your fingertip connected with that raised patch of skin, some unseen force folded your body in half, throwing you onto the bathroom counter. If you hadn’t caught yourself on your elbows, you would’ve smashed your face into the faucet, but you weren’t thinking about that. You weren’t thinking about anything but the obscene moan that was pulled out of the pit of your belly, the way your vision flashed white, like you had been struck by lightning.

That spot at the base of your throat didn’t just tingle—it burned with need, like there was a live wire attaching the mating gland on your neck to your clit.

Back arching, you instinctively clenched your core and like a wet cloth being wrung dry, trails of slick started to slowly dribble down the inside of your thighs. It rolled down your smooth skin hot and thick and heavy, like sap on a tree.

You clenched again—hard—and a whine wheezed out from between your lips; it was a desperate sound, a call, a plea.

Wrenching your hand away from your mating gland, you slammed your palm flat into the counter and panted, eyes perfect circles. Your muscles trembled and your heart tried to beat its way out of your chest. All the while, that gland throbbed and pulsed until your knees finally buckled, unable to hold the weight of your body up anymore.

They knocked into the cabinet with a loud, resounding thud.

You yelped, both kneecaps bursting in pain. Sweat coated your skin and it was a graceless thing, the way that you slid down onto the cold tile floor in a pile of shaking limbs. You tried to slow your breathing, inhaling through your nose and exhaling through your mouth.

Breathing in and out. In and—

You went still.

Eyes blearily slitting open, you delicately sniffed the air and then blinked at the heavy scent of warm brown sugar that filled your lungs. It was so strong you could almost taste it on your tongue. It swirled around the room, permeating in the air like baked goods in a hot oven. Sighing, you licked your lips and—

“Butterfly?”

Shit.

Your eyes flew open, sheer panic flooding your veins. Heart pounding, you scrambled across the bathroom floor until your back hit the wall opposite the door, leaving behind a small trail of slick. You tucked your knees into your chest and wrapped your arms around your shins, swallowing down a whine.

“Are you okay?” Andy asked in a careful voice. “I heard…” he started and stopped.

You heard his audible swallow on the other side of the door and you knew in that instant that he could smell that heavy brown sugar scent.

That he could smell you.

Eyes huge, you stared at the shadow underneath the door, the Alpha that had gone so silent and so still. You held your breath.

You weren’t stupid. You may have been a late bloomer, but you knew some things about this world. You knew that scent clouding the air was radiating from the honey-thick slick trickling down your skin. You knew it was meant to attract Alphas.

Above all else, you knew that you were curled up naked on the bathroom floor, shaking and trembling in a puddle of your own mess while a man—a friend—an Alpha stood just on the other side of a flimsy wood door.

“It sounded like you were hurt,” Andy said eventually and yet he sounded like he was the one in pain.

A tremor rolled through you.

“I’m fine!” You squeaked out, your whole body ablaze with mortification.

Andy didn’t respond right away and he didn’t move away from the door. The gland on your neck ached, thrumming wildly, like a drum. Your grit your teeth and screwed your eyes shut. Then—

“Do you need my help?”

It wasn’t just a question; it was an offering and it had something inside of your chest shifting and raising its head in attention.

Did you need this Alpha’s help?

Yes, a voice inside of you all but wailed, but you fought it tooth and nail until what came out instead was a quiet, painful, “No.”

It felt like a betrayal. Your nails dug into the soft skin of your shins, breath locking in your lungs until they burned.

“Okay,” Andy agreed after a long moment, his voice muffled, like he had pressed his forehead against the door at some point and was all but breathing into the wood. His throat cleared, “I’m going to start working on dinner.”

You nodded but then realized he couldn’t see that. Wetting your lips, you managed to get out a soft, “Thank you.”

He didn’t respond but you saw the shadow leave and suddenly you could breathe again. Your head thumped back against the wall with a sigh and your muscles unwound. Swallowing hard, you glanced down at the space between your legs and grimaced at the gooey, stringy mess. There was no way in hell you were going back outside with… with all of… that on you.

Your eyes fell on the shower and in any other situation you would have asked your host if you could use their shower, but something told you that Andy wouldn’t mind.

(((((())))))

“Well look who’s feeling better.”

The words were spoken no sooner than the bedroom door behind you clicked shut. You went still.

Andy watched you from his place by the stove with a soft but surprised smile. He had a white kitchen towel casually slung over one shoulder and was wearing dark jeans and a warm looking sweater; he was barefoot.

You stayed where you were, feeling the itch to turn around and slip back into your room, into the space of familiarity and comfort. You probably would have, too, if it weren’t for the fact that it still smelled like your slick, despite how well you cleaned the bathroom and despite the tenderness of your inner thighs from all of your scrubbing.

Andy seemed to read it all on your face and the man had mercy on you, dropping his gaze to the boiling pot he was currently stirring a wooden spoon through.

“I was just about to bring the food in,” he told you lightly.

You swallowed like you had something stuck in your throat and when you spoke, your voice was very small. “I thought it would be nice to eat out here tonight.”

Andy’s eyes snapped up and clear blue eyes locked on you. You silently begged him not to ask why and he seemed to understand by the way that his lips curved. “We can do that.”

You flashed him a quick but grateful smile and turned to take in the rest of the apartment.

It was large and open and pristinely clean and… it reeked of money.

Oddly enough, it carried the same strange emptiness, the barely-lived-in feeling, that you had first noticed in the bedroom. There was not much color outside of grays and whites and blacks and beiges, no decorations, no personality, no little knick-knacks, and suddenly you were aching for your own home—the tiny apartment you and your mother shared where the door hinges squeaked and sometimes the faucets exploded like Old Faithful.

It might have been a pain in the ass place to live, but it was home and it felt like home.

Shuffling past the kitchen and into the living room, you glanced up at the vaulted ceilings and the glittering, elaborate light fixtures overhead. You were grateful Andy hadn’t turned those on and seemed to prefer the low lighting of reading lamps, much like yourself.

There was a large window against the wall near the dining table and it was covered in the same thick blackout curtains as the window in the bedroom. Brows pinching, you wandered over there next, highly aware of Andy’s gaze tracking your steps as you cautiously explored.

The edges of the curtains were outlined in an orange glow and you smiled a little, feeling the same urge as this morning. You could only imagine how beautiful the sunset had to be to offer you even a sliver of a color that beautiful and vibrant. Curious, you reached up and—

“Don’t.”

You glanced over your shoulder in silent question. Andy was wiping his hands on the kitchen towel, his serious gaze locked on you.

“We need to leave the curtains closed,” he explained in an urgent tone. “There are eyes everywhere.”

A world full of threads.

Your hand fell away from the curtain in an instant. Of course. How could you have forgotten?

“Right,” you nodded and wrung your hands together. Biting your bottom lip, you stared hard at the ground and then slowly lifted your eyes. “Has there been any news?”

A beat of silence.

“No. Nothing terrible at least,” Andy told you in a muted voice. He turned off the stove and carried the large, steaming pot over to the sink to dump the pasta into a strainer. You watched the way his face contorted in anger through the clouds of steam, the way his jaw clenched and his brows furrowed. When he spoke next, you caught a flash of teeth, “They’re too busy celebrating the… conception.”

It was clear you both had other words for what they were celebrating.

The news of Project Restore’s ‘success’ had broken the morning you had gone to the courthouse to file for your D-level license. You wondered now if it had been an omen.

You wondered what was going to happen to you; you couldn't stay in this apartment forever, no matter how nice it was.

Your mind flashed to that tangled web, to the ropes and the chains that were waiting for you everywhere you turned. A tremor shot through you and you felt your throat tighten, like a fist was slowly cutting off your air supply.

“You’re safe here, Omega.”

“For how long?” You asked and your voice didn’t quite shake. Desperate eyes landed on Andy and he tossed away the towel and walked towards you.

“You’re safe,” he repeated, his voice deepening in a way that made your head spin, before adding, “with me.”

Andy’s words slid under your skin and wrapped around your bones; they carved themselves into the marrow until you actually believed him. You didn’t look at him as he approached, merely closed your eyes and let that promise settle deep into the meat of your heart.

The world wasn't a safe place, but Andy was. It prickled at your skin and you tried to speak but you tongue felt thick and unable to move. Moments later, you inhaled and blinked your eyes open. Andy was right in front of you, standing close enough that you had to crane your neck back to look up at him. And for some reason that you could not name, he looked sad.

You made a low noise in the back of your throat and reached up to brush the tips of your fingers along the side of his face.

There was no thought to the action, you simply needed to touch him—to soothe him.

His beard was softer than you expected and the skin just above was burning hot. Andy held still (you weren’t sure the Alpha was even breathing), and then it happened all at once.

His eyes slid shut and this close you could see the way that his thick eyelashes dusted the tops of his cheeks. Dark brows pulled together and lifted in the middle and you watched some deep unnamable emotion bleed through Andy’s face.

Like it had been too long for him.

And then he leaned into your touch.

Turning his head, Andy pressed his mouth into your fingertips and your lips parted with an exhale. You both stayed like that, so still and so quiet, and he didn’t kiss your fingers, he just kept his lips pressed against the soft pads. It took everything in you not to dip them between his lips for him to taste.

You wondered if he would let you. You wondered what else he might want to taste. You wondered what it might be like to forget the world and lose yourself completely to the rush, to the consuming—

“Alpha,” you keened.

The sound, raw and drenched, came up out of your throat before you could swallow it down and the gland at the base of your throat was burning.

A sudden bloom of warm brown sugar swirled in the air around you, sweet and heavy.

Snapping back to yourself, you jerked your hand away from Andy’s face, mortified at the sudden slippery wetness gathering between your legs. You tried to scramble backwards but hands gripped your elbows, keeping you in place.

“No, no, no,” Andy was saying quietly, holding tight even as you tugged uselessly against his hold, dropping your eyes to the ground, chest heaving. “Don’t do that, Butterfly. Don’t run from me. That scent? I want you to hear me right now: it is nothing to be embarrassed about. Okay? There's no shame in it.”

Your face crumbled and you shook your head silently.

“C’mere, Omega, you’re okay,” Andy crooned softly and pulled you into a hug.

You let him, feeling anxious for any kind of comforting touch, wrapping your arms around his trim waist and pressing your face against his chest, trying to breathe deep and calm yourself. His cologne smelled good and even though you understood that now it was his scent you enjoyed, there was still a part of your brain that would always assume it was just magic cologne.

Magic cologne that made everything in you want to rise up on your tippy toes and stick your nose in his neck for the rest of eternity.

“It’s perfectly normal,” he assured you again, and you felt his chest vibrate with the words. “It’s just how you feel, that’s all.”

You waited a beat, then—

“Thank you,” you said, voice muffled against him, and you meant it. “For… all of this. For everything you’ve done.”

He pressed a kiss into your hair like it was second nature and you froze momentarily, then smiled against him before leaning back, still keeping your arms around his waist.

“It’s no burden on me,” Andy’s eyes were practically sparkling as he stared down at you in his arms. At some point, one of you started to softly sway gently back and forth and you could not figure out who. When he spoke next, his voice was just above a whisper. “I like taking care of you.”

You didn’t know what to say to that so you just rolled your lips over your teeth and ducked your head into his firm chest to hide. Andy laughed softly, his big hands sliding up and down your back.

It was nice, to be held after everything.

Only when the oven timer went off did you both let go of each other, and even then it was a gradual, reluctant thing.

You didn’t know what to make of the ache you felt at his physical absence, though he was only a few feet away. Part of you was sure it had to do with your designations alone, but the other, quieter part of you knew it was something else.

Something bright and silver and glowing in the cage of your ribs.

Inhaling deeply, you watched Andy discreetly adjust his jeans before opening the oven. And when he removed the freshly baked garlic bread and you smelled the heady scent of apples and cinnamon instead, you grinned to yourself.

Perfectly normal, indeed.

(((((())))))

“Did you sleep well today?”

You glanced up mid-bite, both brows lifting. Andy was sitting back in his chair watching you eat, a small but pleased smile on his face. He had done that at breakfast, too, like it satisfied some deep part of him to see you enjoying the food he made.

Setting down your fork, you snorted lightly, “Like the dead.”

“I’m not surprised,” Andy reached for his beer. “You need to rebuild your strength.”

“I feel like all I’ve done is sleep.”

The Alpha shrugged, “Your body needs it.”

You hummed and picked your fork back up, stuffing the bite of heavenly pasta in your mouth. The amount of restraint it took not to moan was impressive—Andy clearly knew how to cook.

Thinking on that little fact, you slanted a look at the Alpha who was now draining his beer. You watched the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed, the veins that stood out along the back of his hands. He was an obscenely attractive Alpha, not to mention uncommonly kind. He had a successful and well-paying job.

How the fuck does this man not have a mate?

There was a sudden tug, right in the center of your chest and you grunted in surprise. You straightened in your chair and rubbed at that spot, wincing.

“What are you thinking, Butterfly?”

Your eyes snapped to Andy and the lie was slipping off your tongue before you could stop it.

“I was just wondering where exactly we are. This place is pretty nice.”

Andy just stared at you for a long moment and you shifted in your seat, flicking your gaze away from his.

Finally, the Alpha murmured, “This is my home.”

Nodding in relief, you glanced around the large, open space. There was an expensive looking couch in front of a large television, but you saw no pillows, no blankets, no sign of a makeshift bed. Your eyes slid back to his.

“Where do you sleep?” You asked with a tilt of your head. He had been in that chair in your room when you initially woke up from your heat, but once you got through the worst of it, Andy had given you some space.

“In the guest bedroom,” he pointed to a hallway to the left of the front door, the one space you had yet to explore. “It’s just through there.”

Your stomach dropped.

“I took your room?” You asked slowly, your voice laced with guilt. “Why didn’t you put me in the guest bedroom?”

Andy leaned forward resting his elbows on either side of his empty plate. He folded his fingers in front of his mouth, gathering his words.

“To put it lightly,” he began, “you needed to be in a room… drenched in an Alpha’s scent.” Your eyes widened comically and Andy’s lips thinned in a humorless smile. “It helps, or so I’ve heard. And after seeing how you react to my scent, I’d say it was an accurate assessment.”

You sat back in your chair, trying to process it all, but all you could come up with was, “How though?”

“How does my scent help you?” Andy clarified.

“Yeah—I… I don’t understand. When I smell your scent—or your ‘magic cologne’,” you made air quotations and the Alpha chuckled, amused. The sound caught your attention immediately and your heart fluttered at being the one to make him laugh, to make him happy. A chirp jumped out of you before you could stop reign it back in. Andy’s grin stretched even wider, fonder, his gaze never leaving yours.

Your leg began to jiggle.

“It calms me,” you picked up where you left off. “Your scent makes me feel better. Sometimes I swear that it even changes my emotions. How is that possible?”

Andy leaned back in his chair, intelligent blue eyes staring at you. When he spoke, it was careful and slow. “The more dominant you are, the deeper the need and desire you have to protect and provide. But it's not just a need that I have, it’s something others can draw from me or any other Alpha. That transfers over through touch and scent. I’m fairly dominant and… you’re an Omega. It’s biological. But in truth, if the world wasn’t the way that it is, all Alphas would be a comfort to you or to anyone with a lower designation. We are meant to be a place of safety.”

“I feel safe with you, Andy.”

You weren’t even thinking as those words left your tongue. You didn’t have to because it was true. Truer than maybe anything else you knew.

“I’m glad,” his golden eyes were pure fire despite the soft and kind tone he spoke in; you felt the flames of his gaze lick at your skin. “You are safe with me. I swear it.”

Careful, whispered a voice that sounded very much like your mother’s.

You blinked and forced yourself to drop your head, brows pinching together.

You had always known deep down that Alphas were dangerous. You were no fool, every Alpha, no matter how kind was dangerous. But what you weren’t prepared for was the kind of danger that was Andy Barber.

With your mother being a Beta, you had never been the singular focus of an Alpha. Sure, your mother’s intensity could be a bit much at times, but it tasted nothing like this. This was heady and intoxicating and you were shocked by just how quickly you were swept away.

… Do I want to be swept away?

That was the real question.

You wet your lips; they were dry and slightly chapped. You didn’t look at him as you reached for his hand and grabbed hold of it.

“I appreciate everything you’ve done for me,” you started and then stopped, choosing your next words carefully. “I can move into the guest bedroom now that I’m done with my—now that my heat’s over.”

Silence answered you.

It stretched between the two of you long enough that you had no choice but to flit your eyes up nervously. Andy didn’t look angry, in fact, he looked so damn sad it nearly broke your heart.

His shoulders rose as he sucked in a breath, “I know why you’re saying that and I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but that’s a hard no for me. I don’t think it would be smart to change your surroundings so suddenly. You’ve been nesting in there and to take you out of that wouldn’t be good for you. It wouldn’t be right.”

“Well as long as you don’t mind someone hogging your bed,” you tried to joke despite the way that your heart was lurching in your chest.

Andy just watched you, his eyes flashing gold once more.

“Believe me, Butterfly, I don’t mind at all.”

(((((())))))

The next morning a solid weight settled on the edge of the mattress and gravity tilted your whole body towards it. Colliding with a solid thigh, you sleepily nosed at it, appreciating the scent with a stupid half-aware smile before you opened your eyes.

Andy was in a suit, similar to the one he wore the first day you saw him.

You were suddenly much more alert.

“Is everything okay?”

“I just wanted to talk before I go into work,” he explained quickly and you relaxed back into the soft mattress.

Andy had brought up his inevitable return to the office last night after dinner. He had risked a lot to take off as much time as he had for your heat, not to mention the suddenness of it. You both knew if he stayed away much longer it would raise suspicion and that was the last thing either of you needed.

“Mm, sure,” you told him, the words garbled around a yawn. You felt the Alpha’s amusement as he stared down at you.

“Omega,” he called in a low tone and you jerked awake, smacking your lips, not realizing that you had at some point closed your eyes again. Andy’s mouth curved, almost absently, and he lifted a single eyebrow. “Do you remember the details I went over with you last night?”

You nodded and Andy kept that single brow raised until you spouted off his instructions back to him, counting them off on your fingers. “No opening the curtains or the door. And if I need to hide, I go to the attic in the closet.”

“Good girl,” he nodded approvingly and you preened. Andy smirked a little and continued, “You can watch TV if you want and I’ve got some books lying around here. Don’t worry about noise, this place is soundproof,” your brows shot up to your hairline at that but Andy didn’t explain further. “I’ve got scent neutralizers I’ll set up today before I go, just in case. You probably won’t like them so I’ll keep them by the front door and windows mainly. I’ll leave this room alone, but if you think you’re in danger, if it sounds like a raid, you bring those in here and crank them up on high.”

“You’re very…” you started, squinting as you searched for the right word, “prepared.”

Andy just looked at you.

“I have to be.”

You fell quiet after that. Reality was summed up in those four words. You thought about the fact that he was leaving you here, by yourself, for the first time since you had… since you had become one of them. A slew of scenarios rushed through your mind and none of them ended well.

And suddenly hiding the way you were, sneaking behind blackout curtains, living a half-life, didn’t feel sustainable let alone possible.

“Did I say something wrong?”

Your eyes snapped up. “No. It’s just… how long are we going to be able to do all of this? How long do we have to do all of this?”

“I don’t know,” Andy sighed heavily. He reached up and trailed a finger down the apple of your cheek. “The only thing that matters to me right now is that you’re safe. That’s my number one focus. I’ve been shielding you since the moment I picked you up from that courthouse—”

“Shielding me?”

Andy hesitated, then answered carefully, “Omegas call to us. You might be the least dominant designation, but your presence is like a megaphone. I’ve been muting that sound so-to-speak—covering you so that you won’t be detected. If another Alpha got suspicious and tried to poke around in the bonds here, it just means that they would run into me first.”

Stunned, you blurted out, “That sounds difficult.”

“Maybe,” the man shrugged and there was something smug living in his tone. “Maybe it is difficult for some Alphas.”

Some. Some but not him.

You flicked your gaze over him appraisingly and Andy instantly recognized the sizing up. The smile that grew on his lips was one you had never seen before and it had a wicked edge to it.

“I told you, Butterfly. I’m a fairly strong Alpha.”

Something flared to life in your chest and your mouth opened but no words came out. You eyed Andy for a moment and he stared right back. The look in his eyes was heavy and unnameable and it set your heartbeat to double the rate. You could hear it pounding against your ribcage and if you could hear it, so could he.

Inhaling deeply, you grasped for your natural defenses: changing the fucking subject.

“Before you go,” you piped up, your voice overly bright and you knew Andy noticed but the man wisely kept his mouth shut. “I was wondering if you knew where my duffle bag was. I wanted to wash my hair and as comfortable as your clothes are… I kind of miss my own.”

The air around you instantly shifted. You felt it, the change, like muscles tensing before the countdown to a big race—like the bracing before a storm.

Andy had gone eerily still.

“I had to dump it.”

Shock rolled through you like a tidal wave and with it came anger and disbelief.

“You… what?” You sputtered, sitting up now. “Why would you do that? Those were my things! The only things that I have left! You didn't even think to check with me? To ask if that was okay?”

Andy’s mouth thinned, “I know and I’m sorry, but we have to—”

“There was no 'we' here! There was just you making a decision without asking me," you bit out, your voice hard. And then the words kept tumbling out, like they had been building beneath the surface of your skin and finally broke through their cage. "Let me guess, your main focus was making sure I was 'drenched in an Alpha's scent', right?"

Andy didn't get angry. He merely he lifted one brow until you felt like ducking your head. The Alpha leaned back and folded his arms across his massive chest. He tipped his head at you, his words equally hard. “Actually I was going to say that we have to make it look like I’m the only one that lives here. If this place were to be searched, the less things I needed to hide, the better. That’s why you’ll wear my clothes and use my toiletries.”

The two of you continued to face off, meeting each other's gazes steadily in a play at dominance. But you were no match, not for him.

Suddenly, as if some invisible rubber band snapped, you couldn't take anymore. The tension sagged out of you and you sighed, dropping your eyes, shoulders slumping. There was a momentary flash of triumph in the Alpha’s eyes. Then that softened and he sighed, unfolding his arms.

“Listen, anything extra that you need, anything you even want, I’ll get for you, but we’ll just have to make it looks like it’s mine.” You said nothing, still clearly upset. Andy deflated slightly, shaking his head when he noticed the stubborn set of your jaw. “Listen, Butterfly, I am doing my absolute best to keep you off of everyone's radar,” he said lowly, and reached for your hand. You almost pulled away. You didn’t though and soon Andy was sweeping his thumb over your knuckles. He looked so tired and so sad and you hated that it tugged at your heart. “That means that I have had to make some tough decisions and I’m going to ask that you trust me on this. You said you feel safe with me, so let me do what I have to in order to keep you safe.”

You watched him carefully for a long time. Truth shone in Andy’s face and you pursed your lips, everything in you softening considerably. Logically, his reasoning made sense. You just hated that it did. You hated that it was yet another thing you had to adjust to, yet another thing that changed.

“I understand,” you murmured.

Andy’s nostrils flared. “You don’t smell happy about it.”

“Am I supposed to be?” You scoffed and turned away, trying to be angry but failing. Something else welled up inside of you and it had tears stacking in your eyes like a tower of unstable bricks ready to spill over at a moment’s notice.

You trembled.

“No,” the Alpha admitted after a long moment. He exhaled heavily, “You’re right. That was insensitive of me. What can I do to make this easier?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted in a choked voice. “This is just… hard.” Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, feeling everything inside of you lock up, “And I know I’m not the only one this had been difficult for. I don’t want you to think I’m ungrateful, but—it’s a lot of change and I’m scared, Andy. I’m scared about what’s going to happen, what could happen. I don’t even know what my life is going to look like, what kind of future I could even have, and that really sucks, you know?” Your voice shook and everything in you began to tremble. You could feel Andy’s gaze on you, honed in, burning, and you kept your eyes closed because you needed to find a way to say this. “And I know it sounds stupid, but I kind of liked the little bubble we had going and I wasn't ready for it to burst. You’re also leaving me here alone today and it’s just… I feel like I need…”

Your voice died, trapped, and your face screwed up. You felt Andy shift on the bed, waiting. You shook again and a tear slipped down your cheek, faster than a falling star.

“What do you need, Butterfly?” Andy’s voice floated to your ears and drew your eyes open. You stared up at the Alpha but he was looking at you, eyes shining with such vulnerable pain, as though he felt the very thing ripping you in two. His voice was very quiet and pleading as he asked again, “What do you need?”

“Could I maybe give my mother a call?” Your shoulders hitched up to your ears and your mouth twisted, staring at Andy in quiet hope. When he didn’t answer right away, you clarified. “While you’re at work today? I haven’t talked to her since—”

“No.”

Stunned, you flinched back like he had struck you.

Andy watched your reaction and shook once, like he had taken a blow as well. Still, he didn’t budge. “You can only have contact with her for emergencies right now.”

“Andy—”

He cut off your hurt plea with a low growl and your mouth snapped shut, teeth clicking together, your eyes huge.

He had never growled at you before.

“I don’t know if you realize just how much danger you’re in,” he started, pulse jumping wildly in his throat. “If word got out, if one phone call was tapped—do you know what they would do? Project Restore would take you in an instant and you’d be bred around the clock. They’d rip you open and sew you back together again. And me? They’d drag me out in the streets, strip me, beat me, and string me up for the city to see.”

Your blood went cold. You didn’t have to imagine what he was describing because you had seen it, everyone had. Jaw trembling, you blinked and another tear made the jump, landing on the comforter bunched around your lap with a soft, wet plop. Andy watched it, his face screwing up something awful, and then it smoothed out.

“I don't want to scare you,” he rasped, wetting his lips. He stared down at the wet spot from your tear. “But maybe being scared is good right now. Maybe it’ll keep us alive.”

He rose to his feet and you turned away from him, even as he reached the door and glanced back at you.

“Just… give me some time to figure things out. Please, Butterfly.”

And then he was gone.

(((((())))))

Turning on the television had been a bad idea.

You had seen the four Omegas before—the whole country had. Project Restore was fond of parading them in front of the cameras as a part of their propaganda. But as you sat on the couch today, staring into the screen, it was like the very first time.

The vacancy in their gazes, the hunched shoulders, the way that the Alphas loomed over them as they touted their long-awaited success (a scientific breakthrough they called it).

You expected it to make you sick, and on some level it did, but it also made you angry. The anger that filled you now was something you had never quite experienced before. It was one thing to experience the cruelty of this world as a Designationless, but it was something very different to experience it as an Omega.

You stared at the black-haired Omega on the screen, the one that everyone was so proud of, and your blood turned to fire and it all came rushing back, how much you hated all of this, the thousand ways you wanted to burn it all to the ground, and nothing else mattered.

Something inside of you cracked; you would realize, much later, that it was your restraint.

No matter how much you fought against it, you were one of them now. Those were your sisters and you had to do something.

Your gaze slid to the front door.

Before you knew what you were doing, you were on your feet. Stopping just in front of the door, you stared into your warped reflection in the shiny silver handle. Your stomach clenched.

Inhaling, you reached for the doorknob at the same moment there was a tug in the center of your chest, it felt curious but also concerned and you reeled for a second, not sure what to make of the strange sensation.

The curtains and the door stay closed, Butterfly.

Shaking your head as Andy's voice from the night before floated through your mind, you shoved it away, brows pulling low over your eyes.

The deadbolt slid open with a solid click and you went for the doorknob next and—

It wouldn’t budge.

You froze.

A beat later, you tried again and still nothing. Heart racing, your eyes searched for any sort of lock you had missed and came up blank. Desperate, you planted your foot on the wall beside the door and yanked with everything you had.

Nothing.

You staggered backwards, chest heaving. He had locked you in. Andy had locked you inside this apartment. That was the only explanation.

Betrayal stung like venom in your heart. You were shaking all over and the panic was rising, the feeling of being trapped—just like all the other Omegas. The only difference was your cage had the illusion of freedom.

Andy had said the apartment was soundproof. You put that to the test when you dropped to your knees and screamed your throat to shreds.

(((((())))))

You were sitting on the ground next to your bedroom door, one leg extended, the other bent, glaring at the large, extravagant bed. One arm rested over your knee and your hand curled into a fist.

There was a scent in the air and it wasn’t pleasant. You figured it was appropriate that the smell of your simmering rage was that of burnt and blackened brown sugar. It was still the essence of who you were, but there was a bitterness to it that you had never known until now.

You stayed perfectly still when your sensitive ears caught the telltale sounds of the front door opening. You listened to the clink of keys drop onto the counter. A few moments later footsteps slowly approached.

You wondered if he had any idea what was waiting for him.

Andy hesitated outside the door, the fact that you were that attuned to him that you knew his movements should have frightened you, but you were beyond caring at this point.

The handle above your head jiggled and you felt a sick sort of satisfaction when Andy realized that you had managed to lock the door to your bedroom.

It hadn’t been hard. All you needed was a fork to jam into it (you had your mother to thank for that tip).

“Butterfly.” Andy called out slowly and there was no small amount of suspicion there. “What are you doing?”

Your upper lip curled and you turned your head and growled at the Alpha on the other side of the door. You had never made the sound before and it came more easily and was far more impressive than you could have hoped for.

A beat of silence.

“That’s cute. You want to open the door?”

Incensed at his dismissal, you narrowed your eyes at his shadow. “No.”

The door handle jiggled again, this time with more force.

“Open the door,” Andy demanded, his own frustration bleeding through and oh, how ironic that was.

“Make me,” you bit out.

There was a long moment of quiet and something about it set you on edge. The air felt full of static, like it would the second before lightning struck. Your blood was buzzing beneath your skin.

And then—

“Open the door, Omega.”

Andy’s voice deepened as though there were thousands of others before him, with him, all speaking at the same time. The command rolled through you, latching onto the back of your neck like a phantom hand, and it squeezed until you had no choice but to obey.

It took you three attempts to remove your homemade lock and that was because your hands wouldn’t stop shaking. The compulsory need to comply, to do as Andy said, was so strong you could hardly see straight.

Gulping, you carefully cracked open the door and the first thing you saw was Andy’s stone-like expression. He seemed… bigger, if that were possible. Everything about him and the way he held himself was larger than life and felt intimidating as hell.

You remembered all the times you had mimicked posturing Alphas and you realized now how foolish you looked when staring into the face of one as strong as Andy.

“Don’t challenge me, it won’t end well,” was all he said before pushing the door open further. You stumbled back and Andy’s eyes slid to the mangled fork in your hand like it was a snake he wanted to kill.

You dropped it to the ground.

His gaze lifted back to your face and you flat out shivered. The Alpha’s nostrils flared. “Now, what was this about?” You just shook your head but Andy was having none of that. “Words,” he snapped at you, “use them.”

“You locked me in.”

Andy went still and then his eyes narrowed. “You tried to leave?”

And all at once, you were angry once more. No, you weren’t just angry. You were pissed.

“That’s not what we’re talking about,” you said, your voice shaking as you forced yourself to meet this Alpha’s eyes because you could not lose to him. You might be an Omega, but that didn’t mean you were weak. “You have me trapped in here, Andy. I can’t even call my own mother, you’ve taken everything I own, you fucking locked me inside—”

“—for your safety—”

“—what am I supposed to think of all this?!” Your voice cracked in the room like a whip. “You keep saying I’m safe here, but you didn’t tell me that safe meant trapped.”

A flash of hurt shot across Andy’s face and you wondered if you had gone too far but it was too late; the anger was rushing through you and your teeth chattered behind your words.

“I’m starting to wonder what the difference is between you and the Alphas at Project—”

“I am nothing like them.” Andy’s voice was pure ice.

For the first time, you actually moved closer to him. You didn’t tremble. You didn’t even flinch. You merely tilted your head back and challenged his gaze.

“Prove it.”

Andy said nothing before spinning on his heels and storming into the living room. You watched him walk away from you and it felt like your heart tore loose, like it was dangling in your ribcage by a single, thinning thread. The pain was so sharp, so deep, it had you following after him, bare feet slapping on the hardwood floor.

He had his back to you but turned his head to the side at your approach and you stopped mid-step. You stared at his profile, the sharp angles still achingly beautiful—even now.

“I will say this once, Omega,” Andy’s voice went quiet. He turned now to stare at you full on and the sheer power and presence radiating from him nearly had your knees buckling. “Everything that I do is for you. Every decision I make, every risk, every single fucking thought in my head is about you. I can hardly sleep because I’m worrying about how to keep you alive, to make sure that there isn’t something I’m missing about your designation because no one knows a goddamn thing about it and what you might need. I’m terrified that they’ll find you and I feel that fear in my bones. This country is fucked and I’m trying to make the best of an impossible situation. I know this isn’t what you wanted, but it’s what you have.”

You were speechless, staring up at him. There was a certain kind of truth living there in his words, a hard and angular truth, begging to make itself known. You felt the anger physically drain out of you and when it fully left, you felt raw, like the molten heat of it had scrubbed you clean from the inside out.

Andy stepped closer. His eyes flickered between both of yours and then flashed to your mouth.

Your stomach flipped.

“You have to know that I…” the words were nothing more than a breath in the back of the Alpha’s throat. He shifted closer still, until you felt the heat radiating off of him.

You shook your head, whispering back, “Know what?”

He made a quiet noise as his eyes continued to search yours. When he next spoke, his voice was so soft you almost didn’t hear it but you felt it; he was close enough you felt his chest rumble with the words—

“Not now. I can’t.”

A beat passed and you let out a very small whine.

“Andy.” You weren’t sure what you wanted, or even what you wanted to say, but his name alone was enough.

This close to the Alpha, you were able to catch the slight shiver that passed through him before he stepped back, putting some space between the two of you, and cleared his throat. “I know we didn’t leave on the best terms this morning, but I had been hoping that tonight we could do something special. Or at least different.”

Your heart lurched and you wondered what it would take for the thread that it was barely hanging on by to snap. Even stranger, you found that you didn’t want it to snap.

And it was that thought that had you offering up a truce.

“What did you have in mind?” You asked, softly.

Andy offered you a sad, small smile. “Let me go clean up, get out of this suit first.”

(((((())))))

You were having a staring contest with the oven by the time Andy came wandering out of his room in a pair of soft flannels and a simple white t-shirt. He paused next to the fridge, brows lifting in question.

“I thought pizza might be nice,” you pointed to the box on the counter.

Andy hummed in agreement and walked over to you. Before you could even register what he was doing, a large hand cupped the back of your head, holding you still while he pressed a kiss into your hair.

You froze and Andy didn’t comment on it, he just gave you fond look as he pulled away. “Thank you.”

Thoroughly distracted from your mission of ‘Make-Sure-The-Pizza-Doesn’t-Burn’, you watched Andy snag a beer out of the fridge and then wander over to a hall closet. He disappeared inside and a few moments popped back out with an armful of board games.

A feeling that could only be described as delight shot through you and across the room, Andy’s head shot up like you had called his name.

“Good choice?” He asked with a hopeful grin.

You smiled back, feeling both shy and playful. “If we start with Scrabble, just so that I can kick your ass.”

Two slices of pizza later, your belly was filled and everything felt warm. The two of you sat opposite of each other at the dining table. You wiped your mouth on a napkin and leaned forward, eagerly watching Andy place the last of his tiles onto the board.

“’Snuck’ isn’t a word, Mr. Barber. I believe the word you are looking for is, ‘Sneaked’,” you informed him haughtily. “You should know that, you went to law school.”

“Bullshit,” Andy said over the mouth of his beer with a grin. “It is a word. People use it all the time.”

You lifted one finger, “It only came about in the nineteenth century and is a Northern American dialect. We are playing a proper game here.”

“Dictionary,” he demanded, hold out his hand.

“You’re really going to dispute this?”

“I went to law school,” Andy repeated your words flatly, “of course I am.”

You picked up the Scrabble Dictionary and handed it over, shaking your head as he all but tore open the cover. “I’ve beaten the shit out of you this round. There’s no point, really. I’d suggest conceding gracefully while you still have the chance,” you told him with an exaggerated sigh. “I may not be so merciful later.”

It was true when you looked at the board. You had racked up the points, hitting multiple triple word squares. Andy’s eyes met yours over the top of the dictionary and they narrowed.

“Oh, it’s gonna be like that, huh?”

“Of course, it is,” you flashed him a wide grin, a tingling feeling zipping up your spine. “Why don’t you choose another game and we’ll see if it’ll be a second loss for team Alpha.”

(((((())))))

You had made a tactical mistake.

Carefully, you inhaled through your nose and exhaled just as slowly through you mouth, lowering the tweezers into the slot just over the stomach of the patient. You eyed the white butterfly sitting at the bottom of the hole in absolute silent concentration, clamping a wing with the tweezers, you oh so slowly began to lift it out—

A guttural huff burst from the Alpha’s throat across the table and the sound, like before, caused a chain reaction in you that you couldn’t stop if your life depended on it.

Jerking in surprise, you chirped in response and dropped the butterfly when the tweezers hit the side of the stomach slot and the light over the patient’s nose lit up in a bright, cherry red.

“You asshole!” You hissed and dropped the tool, glaring up at Andy’s innocent expression. “You did that on purpose!”

He lifted both hands in surrender, but there was a smile tugging at his lips. “Honest mistake.”

“Oh, and the two other times you did that were mistakes, too?”

Andy watched your ire like he had found his new favorite hobby. The Alpha bit his bottom lip to try to hide his grin and then slowly released it. The playfulness on full display from him was something you had never seen before and you’d be damned if you let him know how much you were enjoying it.

Especially when he tilted his head to the side, lifting a single brow your direction. “Are you always this grumpy when you lose?”

“I’m not losing,” you grit out. “You’re cheating!”

Andy snapped his teeth at you and the action was so animal-like it took you aback. He didn’t seem to think anything of it. Instead, something downright mischievous was twinkling in his blue gaze.

“Didn’t know you were so easily distracted, Omega,” he commented with a sly smile. Fingers clutching the neck of his beer, Andy lifted it to his lips and paused, eyeing you long enough that it had you squirming in your seat. He waited a beat, then—“I wonder what other noises can you make.”

Your mouth dropped open. There was a spot in your chest that felt like it was glowing, beating like the pulse of a heart, and it flared now in a tingling sensation. Your toes curled. The corners of Andy’s eyes crinkled as he drank your reaction in.

Desire shot through you, and with it, a delicate brown sugar scent. Andy’s nostrils flared and his eyes gleamed. When he spoke, his voice had deepened and there was something inhuman about it.

“Maybe someday we should find out some day.”

Your chest burned. You sucked in a breath, eyes locked on his. “Maybe we should finish the game first.”

He stared at you for a long time and you watched the beautiful details in his eyes as the colors shifted back and forth from deep arctic blue to fiery gold. Andy didn’t say a word, but you saw the naked want in his face.

And then it became too much.

You dropped your eyes with a shaky exhale. Biting the inside of your cheek, you felt very much like a thirteen year old girl talking to your crush and very much like an animal backed into a corner by a creature who hadn’t yet decided whether it wanted to eat you or not.

Finally, Andy reached for the tweezers and made his attempt to gain the point you had missed when you dropped the butterfly. You watched him in silence and though his brows were furrowed in concentration, something told you he was highly aware of your every move.

And seeing as how the Alpha had openly cheated during this game of Operation, you decided to level the playing field.

It was only fair.

Your mind raced, trying to figure out a way to distract him effectively. Chirping felt like you were stealing his trick and you needed something that would drive home the fact that you played to win. You had always known that words were the second choice of communication in this world; body language was everything.

The idea came out of left field and it was wild enough that you were fairly certain it would work. Andy had just taken hold of the tiny butterfly when you shifted in your seat.

Like you expected, his eyes darted to you and that’s when you struck.

Holding his gaze, you smirked and tipped your head back, exposing your throat to him.

You didn’t know what reaction he would have, but the rumbling growl that burst from Andy’s chest was not it. Your eyes flew open in shock but his gaze was locked on your pulse; the gland at the base of your neck positively thrummed to life at his attention.

The Alpha gracefully unfolded his body and rose from his chair, stalking towards you. Your heart pounded, climbing its way up your throat, as he slowly approached with eyes of liquid fire. There was nothing you could do but stay perfectly still, your blood buzzing, tingles racing along your skin, as Andy took your face in his hands and gently lowered your chin.

Seeing the confusion and question in your eyes, he simply shook his head.

“Don’t give me your throat unless you mean it.”

Releasing his hold on you slowly, you closed your eyes as you came back to yourself. It felt like you were in a trance, a daze, and the mixing scents of brown sugar and apples and cinnamon wasn’t helping.

Holy shit, what just happened?

Your eyes fluttered open. Andy was back in his chair, watching you with hooded gold eyes. He looked like a rubber band about to snap, stretching thinner and thinner by the second.

“As fun as this is,” Andy started in a strained tone. He closed his eyes and rolled his neck and shoulders, like he was trying to physically shake something off. When his eyes opened, they were blue once more. He looked exhausted and only proved that by his next words. “I should get some sleep. I’ve got a lot of meetings tomorrow.

“Mm,” you agreed, unable to say much more.

Andy glanced at you. His brows lifted and you saw the familiar concern trickle across his expression. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah, a bit,” you said softly, shrugging your shoulders.

“We had a rough day,” Andy sighed. “I’m just glad it ended better than it started.”

A tiny smile crept onto your lips but you nodded in agreement. You thought back to the rage that had consumed you earlier, the betrayal and confusion you had felt. You knew there were still things the two of you needed to work out, but now that you had some time to think, now that you found yourself face to face with him, you felt more settled.

“C’mere, Omega.”

Your head shot up at that quiet request, blinking. “Hmm?”

“Just come here,” Andy repeated, holding out a hand to you in offering. His fingers twitched, beckoning you to him and you were rising up out of your seat before you knew what you were doing.

The walk to Andy’s chair was short but it felt like time had stretched itself by the time your feet came to a stop in front of him. The Alpha tilted his face up, taking both of your hands in his. His thumbs swept over your knuckles and you had felt the strength of this Alpha before, but it was his gentleness that had your heart thudding.

“Would it be okay if I held you for a while?” Andy asked and the question was so vulnerable, it seemed to turn everything inside of you soft and sweet.

Your lips were curving on their own and you nodded gently. “Yes, please.”

Andy gave you a pleased look and then pushed out his chair and opened his arms. Your heart fluttered like a bird and you felt that warm glow in the center of your chest spread out down your arms and legs like warm honey as you crawled into Andy’s lap.

The Alpha had you turned sideways, a muscular arm wrapped around your shoulders, giving you something to lean against. His other hand was just above your knee, holding you to him. You felt the press of his bearded cheek resting against your forehead and all at once, you both sighed, as if you shared lungs.

Andy’s scent wrapped around you and it smelled so good, so right, you turned your face, pressing your nose lightly into his neck.

“That’s is,” Andy rumbled. “Take what you need, Butterfly. It’s okay.”

Your brows pulled together, an emotion too strong and too deep and too real to be named rolled through you. Inhaling his scent, you felt it begin to fill all the empty spaces inside of you like a balloon.

You had never felt safer and more protected and more surrounded in your entire fucking life.

“I’m sorry,” Andy was murmuring suddenly, his voice a mere whisper. You went still, but didn’t pull away from the comforting way you were tucked into his throat. You felt it bob as he swallowed. “For this morning. I let the stress and my temper get to me,” the hand on your knee squeezed gently. “I want to be better for you.”

A low noise came from the back of your throat, an attempt at comforting him.

“You’re a good Alpha, Andy.”

“I should have told you about the door.”

You didn’t say anything, couldn’t find the words. Andy inhaled, his wide chest expanding and moving your body with it.

“I locked it after I saw how you reacted this morning. Hell, I should have told you about your bag. It's just... I’ve never even known an Omega until you and my instincts are going a little haywire,” he explained, sounding embarrassed. “I’m going to make a lot of mistakes, but I hope you’ll continue to be as brave as you were today in calling me out on my shit.”

Slowly, your hand lifted and came to rest on Andy’s chest, right over his heart. It thumped in response, like it was saying hello. You smiled sweetly at it.

“As much as I hate admitting it... It was probably a smart thing, locking it,” you said eventually, resting your head on his firm shoulder. “I had watched the news and saw one of the celebration ceremonies. I was so upset seeing the other Omegas that I just wanted to do something. Anything. I know if I got out that I wouldn’t have gotten very far and I really don’t want to think about where I would be right now if you hadn’t locked that door. I guess I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

Neither of you said anything for a long time after that. Andy had almost lulled you to sleep in his arms when you heard his voice one last time.

“We’re okay now?” He asked and though he knew the answer, you figured the verbal confirmation was important to a man like him.

Your snuggled deeper in, sighing out a soft, sleepy, “Yes, Alpha.”

(((((())))))

Over the next week the two of you established a routine of sorts.

Andy would come wake you up before he left for work in the morning with soft whispers and gentle touches. After he left, you almost always dug through his laundry and pulled out the shirt he wore the day before. Most of the time you wore it around the house, tucking your nose into the shoulder every now and then, just to breathe him in.

You stayed away from the news, opting to watch some of the movies from Andy’s collection or curling up on the couch with one of the thriller novels he had.

Daytime was the hardest. You tried to keep yourself busy and for now it was working, but you knew it wouldn’t last. Boredom would eventually hit and, to be honest, you weren’t sure how long you would be able to stand it.

You didn’t want to say anything to Andy because things had been going so smoothly. He was smiling more and there seemed to be a weight lifted off his shoulders. Not to mention, the slick-inducing looks he kept sending your way had you distracted in an entirely different way.

Every night ended with you in his lap, tucking your nose into his neck. He didn’t even have to prompt you anymore, you had gotten to the point where you initiated. It helped when he explained both of your designations biological need for touch—that it released chemicals reducing your stress. Going too long without any contact led to explosions…

Like the kind you had the night you locked Andy out of your room.

Though you had grown up with a Beta mother, there were so many things you had to learn about the hindbrain and how it functioned. Andy was a fantastic teacher, patient and kind, and he challenged you constantly in your assumptions.

He was everything an Alpha should be.

Of course, you might be a bit biased, but so would anyone who was being taken care of and made to constantly feel safe, secure, and supported. The more time you spent with him, the more you also became aware of the bond between the two of you.

You hadn’t been able to name it before, but you knew what it was now. You dreamed of it at night, that same glittering silver thread tying you to him.

And every day the thread grew stronger, thicker, tighter. You could feel Andy nudge you sometimes, like when a dog would bump its nose into you for attention. There were times you swore you felt the flare of his emotions, at least when they were strong. Other times it went oddly silent.

But you knew it was there, even if the Alpha never uttered a single word about it.

(((((())))))

He was late.

You glanced at the clock again. Andy was never late. He always came home at six o’clock on the dot but it was nearing eight now and your nerves were shot. You were perched on the couch, knees tucked into your chest.

The apartment was silent. The dinner you had prepared sat cold on the table and you couldn’t bring yourself to put it away. Not yet.

It was another half hour before you heard the slide of the deadbolt. Shooting up off the couch, your heart thudding hard against your ribcage, you stared wide-eyed at the door as Andy wandered in, his face lowered to the ground.

You stayed quiet and still, fear mixing with concern as you took in the way his shoulders slumped and the exhaustion you could feel pouring off him. His body fell back against the door as it shut, eyes closed.

“Hey,” Andy croaked at last.

You stayed where you were, watching him in concern. “Are you okay?”

Andy’s head lifted and he squinted at you as though he was having trouble even staying upright. He pushed off the door with his shoulders and walked toward you. You let him pull you into his arms, one hand cupping the back of your head, the other falling to the small of your back.

“Rough day at work,” Andy murmured into your hair. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

You pulled back, tilting you face up to look at him. “What happened?”

Andy met your gaze and his jaw clenched and for a breath of a moment, you saw something hard and mean and almost vicious flicker behind the Alpha’s eyes.

“One of my coworkers is riding my ass. He… we’ve always butted heads but he crossed a line today and I snapped. I wanted to cool off before I came home. You shouldn’t have to see me like that.”

“I’m sorry,” you said right away. “Can I do anything to help?”

Andy just stared at you for the longest time.

He swallowed heavily and then his gaze fell to your throat. The bond in your chest tingled. He wet his lips, hesitating a moment before he quietly asked, “Can I…?”

The Alpha’s eyes flew back to your face. You knew what he was asking, but even more, Andy knew what he was asking.

Don’t give me your throat unless you mean it.

You reached up and took hold of his hand. Sucking in a breath, eyes locked on his, you made a decision. “Come on, then.”

Andy let you lead him over to the sofa and he sat down onto the soft leather per your direction. You felt his eyes on you like a weighted vest as you stood over him and the gland on your neck throbbed until it was painful.

It was a physical sensation, Andy’s look. You felt it with your whole body, a buzzing, tingling sensation that was very much like adrenaline, and you felt it in your spine, like someone was following the string of bones and nerves with a finger—

Fucking hell.

You trembled under the intensity of it all as you climbed into his lap, the same way you had every night for the past week. But this time instead of tucking your face into neck, you carded your fingers through his thick hair and tugged lightly until his head bent. Only then did you tilt your head back and offer the Alpha your throat.

“Butterfly…” Andy whispered but you held yourself still and focused on breathing.

With your eyes closed, you never saw the way Andy’s gaze honed in on your pulse but you felt his hands tighten on around you. You felt a large, warm palm slide up the soft flesh of your belly to right underneath your breasts. He nosed under your chin, pushing your head just a tiny bit further back.

Taking just a little more.

You had expected the tip of his nose, but what you got was the feather-light scrape of Andy’s teeth on your throat and the hot lips that followed, closing over your pulse in a dizzying kiss.

Heat shot through you and you clamped down on that feeling, even as the syrupy scent of brown sugar filled your nose. Your nipples hardened into little nubs and his thumb brushed the underside of your chest. You held her breath and forced yourself to calm down, trying with everything in you to shove your desire, your want, your fucking need away.

This was about helping Andy. Not the fact that you could practically feel your pupils dilate as you melted on the inside, the runoff pooling directly between your legs, warm and heavy.

Of course that all went to hell when Andy’s other hand slowly rose and fisted a handful of hair at the back of your head, forcing you to bear even more of your throat, as if he were preparing you for something.

You whimpered, unable to stop yourself.

“Shh, Omega,” Andy breathed against your throat, moving his mouth lower and lower until—

A hot tongue touched your mating gland and your eyes flew open, chest heaving. Slick gushed from core like a wet sponge and you clenched with everything you had, mouth falling open in a soundless scream.

You rolled your hips, body jerking uncontrollably and above you, Andy groaned. Apples and cinnamon blended with the brown sugar scent and it was enough to nearly send you over the edge. As if he knew, as if he could somehow tell, Andy held you fast, pulling his mouth away from that spot. But he didn’t stop entirely.

The Alpha simply changed tactics, planting intoxicating and almost formless kisses up the length of your throat, lips and tongue and teeth leaving a wet trail in his wake. Hot breath coated your jaw. Teeth nipped at your chin and then your bottom lip and the feeling of it all drew a moan out from the very pit of your belly.

And at the sound, he snapped.

Andy moved suddenly, growling deep in his chest, hands wrapping around your waist until you were lifted in the air. He turned you so that you were straddling him.

Or more like, straddling one muscular thigh.

Your eyes bulged and before you could get a single word out, or even a squeak of surprise, Andy surged forward and his mouth slotted over yours.

Big hands squeezed your waist, fingers curling around your ribs as he kissed you. You whined into his mouth, fingers scraping along his beard. He let out a low grown when you melted against him and he broke away after a moment, inhaling sharply, eyes bright and lips swollen. Nuzzling your face, he nipped at your jaw, breathing unsteady.

“You want this?” The Alpha huffed against your face. His hands slid down to the flare of your hips and pulled you down harder against his thigh, silently urging you to move against him.

Shaking, trembling all over, you panted. Hooking an arm around his neck, you whined, unable to get a single fucking word out of your throat. It was easier just to bury your face in the side of his neck and nod.

“Okay,” Andy breathed out. Fingers flexing against your skin, his mouth was at your ear, breathing heavy and hot against your skin. “I don’t want you to hide from me though. I want to see your pretty face if I’m going to ruin you, Butterfly.”

You bit your lip and shifted against him, squeezing your thighs and searching for the right amount of pressure.

“I said I want to see your face, Omega.” Gasping, you lifted your head finally and met Andy’s hungry eyes. “There’s a good girl,” he murmured, both hands scraping at your lower back until they cupped your ass, gripping and kneading just this side of painful. Andy’s mouth curled into a shark-like grin at the broken gasp that slipped out of your mouth. “Here’s what we’re going to do: you’re going to ride my thigh until you come.”

Your mouth fell open and the bond flared between the two of you, hot and electric. It pulled at you, like Andy was at the other end of the rope and you had challenged him to a one-way game of tug-o-war.

And you had no hope of winning.

After a particularly sharp tug, your hips canted upward, the pressure of his leg firm against your core. Your hands flew to his shoulders to brace yourself.

Andy darted forward, catching your mouth in a wet kiss. “C’mon, Butterfly,” his fingers stroked and kneaded, coaxing you into motion. “Move those pretty hips for me. It’ll make both of us feel better.”

Your breath hitched against his cheek, eyes fluttering shut as you ground against him. Andy moaned in your ear and there was a second rush of warm, wet slick pooling between your thighs. The Alpha growled as he smelled the fresh wave and it only made you produce more—until you were almost embarrassingly wet.

Rocking against him, you tried to hit your clit just right, tried to get the pressure you needed and while it felt incredible—while he felt incredible between your thighs—it wasn’t enough.

You wanted to be filled.

You wanted… you…

“Andy…”

Shamelessly, you pressed your chest against his, rubbing your torsos together as you swiveled your hips harder.

“Yeah, baby?” Andy mouthed at the spot beneath your ear and sucked until your panting became small mewls of pleasure. “What do you need, Omega? Tell me.”

You rolled against him hard, your pussy clenching and aching and wanting. He smelled so good and felt even better and you were losing your mind in the rush of it all. You wanted more—needed more.

“I,” you gasped. “I want,” your breathing hitched, “Please!”

Andy watched you rock against him, watched you use his thigh for your own pleasure, his gaze heavy and intense. The bond in your chest felt like a goddamn volcano.

“I know what you want, Omega,” there was a deepness in Andy’s tone, a darkness in his words that slid over your skin and made you want to get on your hands and knees and offer yourself to him on a silver fucking platter. Andy saw it and his eyes flashed gold, like the flipping of a coin. “Not tonight. Tonight is about what I want and I want you to come all over my thigh until you can’t remember your own name.”

Your bared your teeth at his denial but grabbed onto his shoulder with one hand, grinding down on his leg with new vigor. Slick was soaking through the fabric of his trousers and he let out a rough groan, nipping at your mouth.

“You smell so fucking good, Butterfly,” Andy’s voice was husky. “C’mon, just a little more. I know you're getting close. Can smell it, can feel it.”

Your legs start to shake, hips rolling harder and faster. Teeth dug into your bottom lip as the pressure began to build and you whimpered.

Andy grinned, his mouth open and panting and the next thing you knew you were clinging to his neck with both arms, nails crinkling the crisp material of the shirt on his back as he took over. Hands gripped you, fingers denting into the soft flesh of your ass, grinding your pussy over his thigh until all you could hear was your shared moans and the wetness of your own slick.

You were so close, so fucking close. The emptiness was torture. Tears sprung in your eyes because he didn’t understand, you needed more, you needed to be filled—

“Come for me.”

You screamed.

The orgasm hit you hard; like you were getting ripped in half. If it weren’t for his fast reflexes, you would have jerked yourself completely out of his grip. Andy wound his arms around you as you bit his right shoulder, stifling your cry.

It left you weak and gasping and utterly limp in his arms. You lifted your head but could barely keep your eyes open and your breath was leaving you in shallow pants, your forehead pressed against his. Andy’s lips brushed against yours in slow, lazy strokes. When you both had finally caught your breath, he kissed you one last time before nudging his nose against yours and pulling back.

“You okay?” Andy asked and his voice sounded hoarse. Funny, he hadn’t been the one screaming. Big hands smoothed over your arms, your thighs, like he was taking inventory. Concern etched into his face. “You’re shaking, Butterfly.”

“It was just a little… intense,” you managed to squeak out, holding onto him for dear life.

Andy hummed, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. He shifted you a little and you whimpered at both how sensitive you were and the sloppy wet, sucking sound the mess between your legs made. The Alpha glanced down at it and there was a deep kind of satisfaction in that look. He lifted one brow, “You made a mess of me.”

“I’m sorry,” you looked down between the two of you, realizing that he was still in his nice slacks from work… which were now utterly ruined. “I—”

Andy’s eyes slid up to yours and your mouth clicked shut at the predatory thing you saw staring back at you.

“I want you to do it again.”

(((((())))))

You’re smart. Don’t get swept away, okay? I love you. Remember that. Always remember that.

[americasass91]

The Shield and the Sweater

Hello lovelies! This little fic came to me when the lovely, beautiful, talented @stargazingfangirl18​ asked a very important question on her blog. Would you rather be enemies to lovers with Steve Rogers or friends with benefits with Ransom Drysdale. Well my greedy ass wanted both. Thus the birth of this story. I also turned it around a little to make it fit into Siri’s 5k Soft Dark Challenge! I’ve never written anything dark before. Also not sure if this classifies as soft!dark or if it’s more dark. But it’s one of those! If that makes you uncomfortable, then please don’t read it. This is also my first time writing a threesome, so let me know if it sucks! I hope you enjoy it! 😘

General prompts:

8)The town golden boy isn’t as sweet as everyone thinks.

Dialogue prompts:

3)”Oh, honey, you weren’t supposed to see that.”

11)”I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.”

Rating: Explicit(if you’re under 18, please leave)

Words: 6.2k(this one got away from me, sorry)

Warnings: soft!dark/dark themes, unprotected sex, anal sex, vaginal sex, threesome(M/M/F), manipulation, language, model!Ransom being an asshole, Steve not being who you think he is

“And I really think if everyone pitches in to make these changes, it’ll really make a difference in the long run.”

Wow, so this is how you were going to die. In your whole 20 something years of existence, you never thought boredom would be your cause of death.

Sure, you were the lead Accountant at Stark Tower and these monthly meetings were mandatory. But did you really have to be here to listen to Rogers go on and on about how we can ‘improve our working environment’? Why did he even care anyway? He was barely ever here as it is.

You must have been zoning out worse than you thought because next thing you know your coworker, Janet, is poking you in the side and pointing towards Steve.

With a quick glare sent her way, you move your gaze to the Captain. He is giving you the same look he always does. Like he’s disgusted with you. “I’m sorry Miss Y/L/N. Am I boring you?”

A scoff escapes your mouth. “No, not at all Captain Rogers. I just love when people who are never here seem to always have an opinion on how things are run and how they could be better.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “Do you have a problem with me, Y/N? Cause if you do, I’m sure there’s a way to solve that.”

You stand up and match his expression. You lean forward with your hands resting on the table. You can’t help but notice the Captain drops his gaze to your cleavage that’s now on more display than before. But just as quick as it was there, his gaze rises back up to meet your face. “Is that a threat, Captain Rogers?”

“Oh, it’s more than a-“

Tony quickly stands up and claps his hands together. “Okay! Meeting adjourned! You two, come here!”

You quickly straighten yourself up and make your way over to Tony. You always try to make sure you show him as much respect as you can. He’s your boss after all.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark. My emotions got the better of me. It won’t happen again.”

He nods to you. “Thank you, Y/N. I accept your apology. But what I’m not understanding is why Steve here wanted to fire you?”

You both turn to look at Steve who has a sheepish expression on his face. “Yeah, sorry about that, Tony. She just seems to bring out this ugly side of me. I’ll try to keep it more contained next time.” He then moves his gaze to you. “Sorry, Y/N. I promise to be more professional moving forward.”

He makes a quick exit, leaving you shocked that he apologized at all. Ever since you started here almost a year ago now, you’ve been at each other’s throats. It was your fault really.

It was your first week and you were in the break room grabbing some coffee when you overheard a few of your coworkers making fun of Steve for being a virgin. Now, you weren’t sure if it was true but you wanted to fit in so you made your way over to the group and asked if anyone calls him Captain Virgin. That earned you some big laughs. But the laughter died down quickly as Steve entered the room to grab some coffee. Judging by the glare he gave you, he heard what you had called him.

You went straight to Tony after that to apologize. You really didn’t want to get fired. But you wanted to make sure Tony heard the story from you before Steve got the chance to talk to him. To your utter surprise, Tony found the name hilarious and gave you a high five, saying you were going to fit right in.

Well long story short, it’s almost a year later and Steve is still getting called Captain Virgin. Oh but don’t worry, he has names of his own for you. His favorite is Tony’s Pet. For some reason, it really eats at you when he calls you that.

But the one thing you hate the most about Steve?

Is how utterly, hopelessly, and desperately attracted you are to the son of a bitch.

That happened in your second week when you went to use the complimentary gym and saw him beating the shit out of some poor punching bag. Your panties and your workout were definitely ruined after that.

The more you fought with Steve, the more you just wanted him to bend you over any surface and have his way with you.  

It was despicable how horny you were for him. You were pretty sure all he’d have to do is snap his fingers and point to the floor in front of him and you’d happily drop to your knees and take him down your throat.

So that left you leaving work every day in a horny state. You started by taking care of it yourself when you got home. But after a while even that wasn’t cutting it. Then you started bringing home one night stands. But after the 4th disappointing non-orgasm, you gave up and just learned to live with it.

Sure, you could attempt to start being nice to Steve and maybe ask him out. But you were pretty sure he hated you. Plus you have way too much pride to actually do that.

So that leads to now. It’s Friday night and your workday is almost over. You’re inputting the last few numbers from the last expense report in your pile.

You get the last number put in when Janet approaches you. She sits on the corner of your desk. “So, you coming tonight?”

You take your glasses off and lean back in your chair, stretching your arms over your head. “Coming where?”

She rolls her eyes at you. “Oh, come on Y/N! You know we go out almost every Friday night. You never come and you always say you will!”

You start to clear off your desk and put things back in their place. “Yeah well I could. Or I could go home and sit on my ass and do nothing.”

“Well, that explains why it’s looking a bit bigger lately.”

Janet’s jaw drops as she directs her gaze at Steve, who is now standing in front of your desk.

You smirk and lean on your elbows towards him. “You like looking at my ass, Rogers?”

He scoffs. “Well when it takes up that much space, it’s hard not to notice. But here, I came to give you this.”

He hands you what looks to be a 10 page expense report. “Sorry it’s late, I’ve been busy, you know. Saving the world.”

You ungraciously take it from him and throw it in your to-do pile. “That can wait until Monday. I’ve got plans. We’re going to-” you look towards Janet for clarification. “Lavo.” You turn your gaze back to Steve. “Yeah, we’re going to Lavo. So this will wait til Monday if that’s okay with you, sir.”

Steve does his best to move his bag and jacket subtly towards the front of his pants so you won’t notice his growing hard-on. He hates how turned on he gets when you guys get into it. And then you call him sir? Jesus. He clears his throat. “Of course, I'm the one who turned it in at the last minute.”

Janet speaks up quickly. “You could always come with us! It’ll be fun!”

You grin widely at him. “Yeah! You could finally get your cherry popped, Captain Virgin.”

Steve can’t help the blush that covers his cheeks. “Uh, I can assure you my cherry has been popped since the 40’s. But thank you for your concern. And thank you for the invite, Janet. But i think I’ll stay in tonight.” He takes out his phone and sends a quick text before turning around and walking towards the elevators.

Wow. He didn’t even try to retaliate. You shrug your shoulders and grab your purse before standing up. “Alright, I’ll go! But on one condition!”

Janet claps her hands in excitement and starts walking with you towards the elevators. “Sure, anything!”

You press the button for the lobby. “You are going to be my wingwoman. Cause this girl definitely needs to get laid.”

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

Lavo is super packed by the time you guys arrive. Of course you all had to go home and change.

You decided to go with a simple, yet effective, little black dress that showed off just enough to get men’s attention.

Thankfully you are able to score the last table. The waiter comes over and gets everyone’s drink order. You decide to stick with your favorite. You don’t want to get too drunk on the off chance you find someone to take home.

About a half hour into hot office gossip, Lucy, who is sitting across from you, taps your arm. You raise your eyebrows in question towards her.

She subtly nods her head towards the bar. “Okay I’m pretty sure the hottest guy I have ever seen is checking you out.”

You can’t help the smirk that crosses your face. “Yeah? Which one?”

“You can’t miss him. He’s fucking hot. Like no comparison to any of the other dudes sitting up there.”

You glance down at your drink and quickly finish the remainder. You stand up and adjust your dress, pushing up your breasts in the process. “Well, then I guess it’s time for a refill.” You wink and turn to make your way towards the bar.

It doesn’t take long for you to spot him. And boy was Lucy not kidding. He was fucking hot. Brown hair, blue eyes, and a smug smirk that would normally turn you off. But on him it worked. And who even looks that good in a fucking cream colored cable knit?

You go up to the bar, not too close to Mr. Hottie of course, and patiently wait for the bartender.

Hottie McHothot not so subtly moves his gaze up and down your body. He must like what he sees. “Hey honey, have you ever raised chickens?”

Uh. That’s definitely not the first thing you expected to come out of his mouth. You look over at him with confusion on your face. “Uh, no. Why do you ask?”

He just shrugs his shoulders. “Just kinda figured you might. Cause you sure can raise a cock.”

Okay, you’ve definitely never heard that line before. You crack up. You’re pretty sure you even snorted on accident. Once you collect yourself you ask, “Has that line ever worked for you?”

The bartender makes his way over to take your order. After reordering what you had before, you turn towards Hottie and wait for his answer.

“Not sure, my buddy told it to me yesterday so this is the first time I’m using it. Did it work?”

You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know. It was pretty cheesy.”

“Yeah, maybe. But it got you to laugh. So I’d say mission accomplished. Name’s Ransom. What’s yours, pretty girl?” He holds out his hand for you to shake.

Ransom. Now where have you heard that name before? You accept his hand shake. You can’t help but notice how much bigger his hands are than yours. Jesus. You could already feel your panties getting wet.

“My name’s Y/N. Ransom, that sounds familiar. Do I know you?”

He releases your hand and goes to take a sip of his bourbon. “Well, I guess that depends. Do you read magazines or have you seen the side of the city bus lately?”

You quickly wrack your brain. You don’t read many magazines. But the bus drives by you everyday on your walk to work. Holy shit! That’s it! He’s in his underwear on the side of the bus. You’ve drooled over that picture plenty of times.

“Oh, yeah! I remember now! I’ve seen you on the bus! What’s it an ad for? I can never really get past the almost naked man. A bit distracting on my way to work.”

He smirks as he briefly glances down at your breasts. “I’m glad you know my work. It’s an ad for Calvin Klein. For their new line of men’s briefs. Sorry I’ve been a distraction.” He sends you a wink.

Fuck. He was a model. And a popular one at that if he’s in an ad for Calvin Klein.

“I didn’t say I minded. You can make it up to me you know.” You wink back. Holy shit. Were you really flirting with a model?

“Yeah? Well, how about we get out of here and I’ll show you a fully naked man.”

Okay. Cheesy line number 2. Was that really going to work on you?

Yes.

Yes it was.

“Let me just go grab my purse.”

Drink forgotten, you go back to your table as quickly as you can without looking desperate. “Sorry, girls. But this is where I leave you.”

Janet glances down at her phone. “We haven’t even been here an hour yet! Where are you going?”

You send her a wink. “I’m leaving with that guy! You guys know him! Remember that ad on the side of the bus?”

They all turn their gaze to him. And they all make it very obvious. He just waves and sends them a smirk.

“Holy fucking shit! That’s the new Calvin Klein guy! Oh my god you lucky bitch!”

“Wait! Listen. We’ll let you go on one condition.”

You furrow your brows in confusion. “Okay?”

Janet gives you a naughty smirk. “On Monday I’ll need a report on if they had to stuff his briefs to get that delicious looking bulge or not.”

You give her a naughty smirk of your own. “I can totally do that.”

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

Monday morning you were all smiles as you stepped off the elevator and headed towards your desk. You give Janet a wink as you pass by her. She quickly makes her way over just as you sit down. “Um, excuse me hoe. But is that the same dress you were wearing Friday night?”

You quickly grab the cardigan you always keep in your desk out and put it on and button it up, attempting to look a little more professional. “Maybe.”

Janet opens her mouth in shock. “You stayed the whole weekend with him? You little slut! How was it?”

You turn on your computer and grab for the expense report of Steve’s you left in your to-do pile. Then you turn towards your nosy coworker. “Well, if you must know, yes. I did stay the whole weekend with him. And I’m pretty sure I was in an orgasm-induced coma the whole time. It’s all kind of a rough, sticky, mind-blowing blur.”

“Are you going to see him again?”

You shrug your shoulders as you put in your login information on the computer. “I haven’t decided yet. While the sex was the best I’ve ever had, he’s kind of an ass. Talked about himself and all the famous people he’s hooked up with since becoming a model. I honestly kept initiating sex just to make him shut up.”

She gives you a look like you’re stupid. “I’m not seeing the issue here. So what if he talks about himself a lot? The sex was amazing. You need to lock that down girl.”

You roll your eyes at her. “That’s the thing, Janet. He doesn’t do relationships. He told me so multiple times. Plus I’m pretty sure he was texting another chick in between our ‘sessions’. I suppose if I’m desperate, I’ll get a hold of him.”

“You know you could always just have him on backup for sex. Like a friends with benefits situation.”

“Janet, I’m in my late 20s. I’m too old for that kind of relationship.”

“Exactly, you’re in your late 20s! This is the perfect time for that kind of relationship before you settle down and get married! Have one last final hoorah!”

“I can’t have this conversation before caffeine. I’m going to get coffee. You act like I’m dying soon or something.” You turn to walk away but then remember you were supposed to tell her something. “Oh yeah and by the way. The bulge is definitely not stuffed.”

You give her a wink and then head to the break room for some much needed coffee. When you see who’s in there, you almost contemplate going downstairs to a different break room.

Steve is standing at the counter, preparing his coffee. He turns when he hears you come in and gives you a once over. “Well, look what the cat dragged in.”

You grab a mug out of the cabinet beside him. “Sorry my appearance isn’t up to your standards today, Rogers. I was a little...busy this weekend.”

He takes a sip of his coffee to make sure it’s right. Then he moves out of your way so you can get to the coffee, but still staying close. “Busy getting run over by a truck? Cause that’s kind of what you look like.”

You pour yourself a generous amount of coffee and take a long sip, letting the bitter liquid slowly make you human. “Yeah, well. I was busy getting fucked all weekend, Rogers. But I know your little innocent mind wouldn’t know what that’s like.”

That wipes the stupid little smirk right off his face. He almost looks pissed. He moves even closer to you. Almost pressing himself right up against you. So close that you can smell his coffee-scented breath. If you were wearing panties, they’d be ruined.

“Not all of us feel the need to sleep around. Some of us are looking for a real connection. Not just a one night stand of meaningless, mediocre sex.”

You press yourself just a little closer to him, his chest now touching yours. “Oh, it was anything but mediocre. Maybe if you actually got some, you’d know what that feels like.”

He leans his head down until his mouth is next to your ear, his left hand now resting on your hip. “You really need to stop insinuating that I’m a virgin sweetheart. If you were nicer to me, I’d show you that I know how to fuck.” With that he backs up and heads out of the break room.

You let out the breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Jesus Christ. You swear you almost came.

And if you were nicer to him? Fuck him. He’s not nice to you either. That’s okay. You have someone who can scratch this itch.

You pull out your phone and send a quick text.

To: Fuckboi

You busy tonight? I could really use a release.

The reply came almost immediately.

From: Fuckboi

Didn’t get enough of my cock this weekend huh? I suppose I could make myself available.

You roll your eyes and quickly reply with your address and what time to be over.

The rest of the day passes by slowly. It takes you half the day to enter Steve’s expense report. God he’s descriptive. At least it’s completed. You can’t really say that much for the other Avengers. They usually half assed them and made them barely acceptable.

You are shutting down for the day when Steve approaches your desk. You remove your glasses and look at him expectantly. “Is there something I can help you with, Steve?”

A blush creeps it’s way across his cheeks. “Um, I was actually just wondering if you had time to go over the new expense report forms? They should be a lot easier to fill out.”

You glance down at the clock on your computer. Ransom is going to be at your place in about 20 minutes.“Can we do it tomorrow? I have company that’ll be showing up at my apartment in like 20 minutes.”

His hopeful smile falls. His face is now unreadable. “Would your company happen to be whoever you spent the weekend with?”

Confused, you grab for your purse after getting your computer shut down. “Actually, yes. Should I have asked your permission first?” You attempt a joke to ease the sudden tension.

He pulls out his phone and starts typing furiously. Wow. You weren’t aware he knew how to text. You hear it ping with a reply before he angrily puts it back in his pocket. “Sure, we can do this tomorrow. Wouldn’t want to get in the way of your whoreing around.”

Your jaw drops in surprise. Sure you guys were always throwing jabs at each other. But he’d never said anything like this before. And in such a mean tone.

You round your desk and stand right in front of him. “Fuck you, Steve.”

You hurry towards the elevators before he can see the tears that have welled up. You couldn’t let him know he had that power over you. Asshole. Thank god Ransom was coming over. Hopefully he could fuck what Steve just said right out of your head.

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

You’ve lost count of how many orgasms Ransom has pulled from you with his mouth when there’s a knock on your door.

Ransom looks up at you from his kneeling position on your living room floor. “Did you invite someone else to join us, pretty girl?”

You scoff and push him away so you can stand up. You pull your dress down as you make your way towards the door. “Yeah. I can barely handle just you. I’m pretty sure if we added someone else, I’d actually die.”

You open the door and gasp in surprise. “Steve? What are you doing here?”

He rubs the back of his neck nervously. “Look, I know you probably already have company but I felt really bad about what I said to you earlier today and wanted to apologize.”

You have so many questions. “How did you know where I lived?”

That sheepish smile makes its appearance again. “I may or may not have looked in your employee file.”

You shake your head. “And you felt the need to come all the way here and apologize? Why not just text me?”

“It would only have felt right to me to do it in person. I really am sor-”

You feel a pair of arms wrap around you from behind. “Well, who do we have here? Why is Captain America at your door?”

You turn your head to address Ransom. “He just came by to apologize to me. I think he was just leaving.”

Steve has a disappointed look on his face. “Yeah, I suppose I was.”

“Awe, what a shame. I thought you were gonna ask him to join us, pretty girl.”

Steve’s eyes grow wide at the thought. You quickly speak up. “No, I don’t think he’d be comfortable with that. He’s a little old fashioned.” You give him a sincere smile. You didn't think that was a bad thing.

Steve looks back towards the elevators and then back to you. He clears his throat. “What if I wanted to join you?” Seeing your wide eyed look, he quickly adds, “Only if Y/N would be comfortable with that of course.”

You contemplate what the consequences could be in your head. But then you get distracted when Ransom starts grinding his hard on against your ass. “Come on, pretty girl. Make a decision.”

The next word comes out of your mouth faster than what your brain can process. “Okay.”

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

Now you were standing awkwardly in your bedroom with Steve and Ransom looking at you expectantly.

You’ve never done this before so you’re not sure how this is supposed to go. “So, um. How do we start exactly?”

Ransom smirks and comes up behind you. “I think you should call the shots, pretty girl. If you’re okay with that, Steve?”

With the mention of his name, he walks towards you and places his hands on your hips. “I think that’s a great idea. Can I kiss you now?” He places his hand under your chin and raises your face up to meet his. “I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.” With that, his lips meet yours. It’s explosive. You quickly wrap your hands around his neck and press yourself up against him.

You get so lost in the kiss, you forget that Ransom is there. That is until he presses his lips against your neck and presses himself against your ass. It presses you even further against Steve, making you feel his excitement against your lower belly.

You’re so overwhelmed already and you’d barely started. You may not survive this evening.

As you move your hands down to remove Steve’s shirt, Ransom is unzipping your dress, pressing kisses to every inch of exposed skin.

Without breaking the kiss, Steve moves his hands around to unhook your bra so he can get his hands on your breasts. He pinches your nipples, causing you to moan into his mouth. He moves his lips to your neck, sucking on your pulse point.

After successfully removing your dress, Ransom stands back up and turns your head to connect your lips. He starts rutting his clothed hard on against your naked ass. His left hand reaches around to bat one of Steve’s away so he can squeeze your breast.

Steve takes the hand that had been swatted away and moves it down to your soaking wet core. He starts lightly circling your clit. Just enough pressure to make you mewl.

You reach behind you with your left hand and tug at the waistband of Ransom’s briefs. “Off.” You moan out as you take your right hand and start attempting to take off Steve’s jeans. He smirks into your neck and helps you out. He barely gets them unbuttoned and unzipped before you’re reaching your hand into them and his boxers to grab his cock. It feels big.

Ransom grabs your left hand and places it on his now free cock. You wrap your hand around it and give it a squeeze before you start pumping your hand up and down. You do the same to Steve’s, making the both of them let out grunts against both sides of your neck. Steve increases the pressure on your clit a little. Still not enough.

“Nee-need, you. Please.” You weakly moan out. Ransom moves his mouth up to your ear. “How do you want us, pretty girl?”

You reluctantly pull away from both of them so you can think. You decide to be greedy. You point to Steve. “I want you to lay on the bed, please.”

He does as you ask. Putting his hands behind his head as he awaits further instructions.

You get on the bed and straddle him. You turn around and reach your arm out for Ransom. “Want you behind me.” You lean over and open your bedside drawer to grab the lube and toss it at Ransom. He smirks as he straddles Steve’s legs and gets behind you. He uncaps the lube and starts coating his cock with a generous amount. “Need my cock in that ass, pretty girl?”

You hold up your hand. “Wait.” You lean down towards Steve and give him a quick kiss. “Are you okay with this?”

He nods his head. “As long as you are.” You raise back up and smile at him. You turn your head and look at Ransom. “I’m assuming you're okay with this?”

He just smirks and squeezes some lube out so that it slides down the crack of your ass. “More than okay, pretty girl. Need me to stretch you out first?”

You smirk and pull him in for a quick, filthy kiss. “I think it got plenty stretched out this weekend.”

He matches your smirk. “You little slut. Wanting both of our cocks stuffing you full.”

You whimper as he lands a smack on your ass. Leaning up on your knees, you grab a hold of Steve’s cock and start running his tip up and down your folds. He places his left hand on your right hip and his right hand on your left thigh. “Condom?”

You quickly shake your head and pause your actions. “On the pill. Unless of course you’d be more comfortable with one.”

He shakes his head. “No, just making sure.”

You turn back to Ransom. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready for you.”

He nods and places his hands on your shoulders, waiting somewhat patiently.

You slowly sink down on Steve’s cock. He’s stretching you out so deliciously. It burns in just the right way. Ransom may be longer, but Steve is definitely thicker.

After you get fully seated on him, you take a minute to adjust. It only takes a few seconds. You turn your head towards Ransom. “Okay, I’m ready.”

He removes his right hand from your shoulder and grabs the base of his cock and starts pressing against the tight ring of muscle. He’d been in there a lot over the weekend. But it was still a tight fit regardless. He doesn’t go as slow and sheaths himself to the hilt, causing you to moan out in slight pain and pleasure.

Holy fuck. You feel so full. You think you might die. That is until Ransom removes his cock until just the tip remains and then forcefully thrust back in, causing you to grind on Steve’s dick.

Steve grunts out from the movement and starts thrusting up into you the best he can from his position. Ransom wraps his left arm around you and continues his thrusts, not letting up his pace. You don’t even really have to move, the both of them doing it for you. They somehow find the perfect rhythm. Each of them pulling out and pushing in at the same time. One of your hands is behind you, resting on the back of Ransom’s head while the other is resting on Steve’s chest.

Steve sits up suddenly and pulls you in for a kiss. “Like being stuffed with both of our cocks, pretty girl?” You hear from behind you. “Yes. So good. So full. Gonna cum.”

Ransom removes his arm from around you and reaches down and starts circling your clit. “Do it. Cum all over us. Make a mess.”

Steve can feel you squeezing him. “Please, sweetheart. Need to feel you cum on my cock. You’re gripping me so good.”

You explode. You clamp your eyes shut, seeing stars behind your eyelids. You let the both of them fuck you through it.

Ransom’s hips stutter. The fluttering around his cock is too good. He cums with a shout of your name, filling up your ass to the brim. He gives you a few more thrusts before he pulls out and collapses beside you two.

Steve’s been patient while you come down from your high. He lays back down, pulling you with him so that your chest to chest. He bends his knees and grabs onto your hips. “You ready, sweetheart?” You raise up, both of your hands on each side of his head. You give him a nod.

That’s all he needs. He starts fucking you, hard and fast, chasing his release. He can feel it building. He just needs to feel you come undone around him again. He moves one of his hands and starts circling your clit with his thumb. “Need you to cum for me again, Y/N.”

You shake your head. “Can’t. Too much.”

Ransom sits up beside you. “I know what she needs.” He reaches over with his left hand and wraps it around your throat, squeezing gently.

It makes you clench down on Steve’s cock. “Yeah? That all you needed, sweetheart? A hand wrapped around your pretty throat? I know you like it. Can feel you squeezing me.” He picks up his pace. The only sounds that can be heard are his grunts, your breathy monas, and skin slapping against skin.

It doesn’t take long for your orgasm to hit you. This one is somehow even more intense than the last.

You must’ve blacked out for a few seconds because the next thing you know, you’re waking up in between Steve and Ransom.

Steve smiles down at you. “There she is. We lost you for a second, sweetheart.”

You feel drunk. You smile goofily up at him. “Did you cum?”

Just as you ask that, you can feel his release seeping out of your overused cunt. Then you feel cum leaking out of your ass. You hide your face behind your hands in embarrassment. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

Ransom removes one hand while Steve removes the other. “Nuh uh uh. No hiding allowed, pretty girl. I have no regrets.” He looks at Steve. “Do you?”

Steve smiles down at you and leans down to press a soft kiss against your lips. “None from me. You tired, sweetheart?”

You let out a big yawn and nod your head, slowly closing your eyes. “Get some rest, pretty girl.” That’s the last thing you hear before sleep takes you.

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

You wake up sometime in the early morning, stretching out your sore limbs. You know you have a dumb smile on your face. But you can’t help but notice your empty bed.

You sit up and hiss at the deliciously sore feeling between your legs. You grab your robe and slip it on. You can smell coffee coming from the kitchen. You giddily make your way out of the room and down the hallway. They both barely just come into view, still unaware you’re there, when you hear Steve speak.

“I thought you were going to be an asshole to her? Make her see I’m not that bad.”

You hear Ransom next. “I was an asshole to her. I’m sorry I dicked her down so good that she wanted more.”

Steve scoffs. “I never gave you the okay to fuck her!”

“You also didn’t tell me it was off limits. Look you got what you wanted right?”

“No, actually I didn’t. I didn’t pay you so we could have a threesome together.”

What the fuck? Steve paid Ransom to help him get in your pants?

“Ok, how about this? I’ll give you all of your money back if I can fuck her one more time before I go? Then we’ll be squared away.”

Steve seems to be conflicted. “Fine! But this is the last time Ransom. I have to get to work anyway. After this, she’s mine. And make sure she’s not late for work herself.”

Before you have time to react, Steve rounds the corner and sees you standing there. He has a deer caught in headlights look. Ransom comes up beside him and sees you. “Oh, honey, you weren’t supposed to see that.”

You slowly start backing up towards your bedroom. Steve moves towards you, stopping once you put your hands up. “Stay away from me! Both of you! I want nothing to do with either of you!”

Ransom moves past Steve and grabs onto your arms. “Oh, please. You’d fuck us again if we wanted. Wouldn’t you?”

You spit in his face. “Fuck you, Hugh.”

He gets a sinister look on his face. “Wrong move, pretty girl.” He looks toward Steve. “Don’t worry, I’ll fuck the brat out of her. You better tell her boss she won’t be in today.”

Your eyes go wide at his words. You start thrashing against him, trying your best to get away. Steve has had enough. He comes over and yanks you away from him and presses you against the wall. “You better calm down, sweetheart. I’ll treat you like a princess if you can be my good girl. Can you do that?”

You shake your head. “Why would you think I’d want anything to do with you after finding out you paid someone to help get into my pants?”

He gives you an evil smirk. “Because if you don’t, I’ll just have to release the tape of last night on the internet. Let everyone see how much of a slut you actually are.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “You’re bluffing.”

He smirks and turns his head towards Ransom. “Show her.”

Ransom gets his phone out of his pocket and swipes at the screen for a second before turning it in your direction.

Holy shit. They weren’t bluffing. There you were, getting fucked by the both of them. That would ruin you if it got out. Not only would you get fired, but your parents would probably disown you. You’d never have a normal relationship again. You’re fucked. Even more than you were last night. How had you not noticed they were recording it?

Ransom must have read your mind. “I set my phone up while you were busy with Steve’s fingers on your cunt and his tongue down your throat. I think you need to ask her again Steve.”

Steve grabs your chin and moves your gaze onto his face. “I’ll ask you again. Are you going to be my good girl? Let Ransom fuck you one more time and then it’ll just be me and you?”

You drop your gaze to the floor. You feel a tear run down your cheek as you whisper out, “I’ll be your good girl.”

Taglist: @stargazingfangirl18​ @drabblewithfrannybarnes​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @lllols @patzammit​ @quxxnxfhxll​

Steve Taglist: @donutloverxo​

[sophiria]

I think I might've inhaled you

Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content and smut, mild power imbalance, commander x recruit dynamic, professor x student dynamic, mentions of marriage and children

Word Count: 2,107

A/N: written for Siri’s 5K Soft Dark Challenge, with the trope Professor or teacher AU. Congratulations, @stargazingfangirl18​! 🧡

Thank you to @imanuglywombat​ for betaing. ♡

Summary: “You always call me Commander,” Steve mused, “but you never address me as Professor. Why is that?”

AO3 link

My Masterlist

Relaxing into a private corner of the library was your favourite thing to do between classes and training at the Avengers Academy, and you were sure he didn’t mind. 

Steve Rogers, the former active superhero known as Captain America, was the owner of the mansion turned Training Academy for the New Avengers.

He had the habit of stealthily climbing up the spiral staircase and observing you for a few moments before playfully pulling you from your daydreaming—though he would occasionally let you be, walking back to his study. 

The First Avenger was a beautiful and stern old-fashioned-looking man, an enigma to most people studying and working at the training establishment he had founded. 

He spent most of his days teaching and training recruits — you included, then retreating to his private quarters for the better part of the weekend. As a result, rumours around him ran rampant, and very few tales about him were not public knowledge.

Sometimes you heard him outside your room at night, seemingly resting his forehead against your door. He was always gone after a couple of minutes, leaving you with your mouth dry and your heart fluttering in your chest.

Despite his insistence of trying to keep a distance, you knew better.

You didn’t miss the way his eyes twinkled when you looked up to him for guidance, nor the threatening look he gave men trying to get close to you. 

Commander Rogers knew how to intimidate people with his menacing stare and imposing figure, occasionally cornering the unfortunate individual to give them a harsh scolding. Yet with you, while he was commanding and generally severe, the lectures were lenient and somewhat playful. 

Others saw you as his protégé, but you didn’t dare to mull over it too much. Though you did indulge in countless daydreams about it almost every night...

A deep rumble of your name pulled you out of your reverie, and you sprinted to get on your feet, straightening your back.

“Commander Rogers!” You let out an awkward squeak as you acknowledged him, anchoring your gaze on his herculean figure. He wore a light pastel blue plaid shirt, jeans, and a pair of brown boots. “Sorry, I was just—”

“It’s okay,” he interrupted you, his tone lighter than you expected, “There is no need to apologise. You’re allowed to enjoy a break from your studies as the weekend is starting.” You nodded as he took a couple of steps towards your position, his hands clasped behind his back. “You always call me Commander,” Steve mused, “but you never address me as Professor. Why is that?”

You unconsciously licked your lips. “Well…” you trailed off, avoiding eye contact with him for a few moments. “I thought you might like to be addressed as such even if you no longer are Captain America.”

His eyes sparkled with veiled delight as he stopped in front of you. “That’s an interesting observation,” he commented as your heartbeat increased, the proximity in such an intimate setting making you thoroughly flustered, “but what would you rather call me? Based on your personal preference. Captain, Commander or Professor?”

You gulped, trying to hold his intense azure gaze. “I think all those titles are accurate for you,” you answered in a shaky tone, “so I wouldn’t mind using all the three of them to address you.”

He looked down at you. “Just pick one,” he commanded gently as you raised your eyebrows, “because I'd be interested in knowing what you’d pick.”

“I…” you mumbled, scratching the back of your neck, “I think I’d like you to choose, even if you don’t have an inclination towards one in particular.”

He chuckled faintly. “Okay, then I suppose you can keep calling me Commander. Though I won’t mind hearing you switch to Professor, especially in class,” Steve admitted as you tilted your head to one side, “however, the Captain days are behind me,” he added.

Your lips parted. “I understand,” you breathed, “It’ll be either Commander or Professor.”

He leaned forward. You swallowed hard as he took your chin between his thumb and index finger, angling your head towards his face.

Your heart pounded as his thumb swept over your bottom lip, his gaze flickering from your eyes to your lips, then from your lips back to your eyes. 

“Yes, it’ll be Commander or Professor,” he rumbled, his finger ghosting over your lips as you shivered, “and then it’ll be Steve when we are alone in a different setting than the scholarly one.”

You were sure your brain short-circuited at his words, and you blinked owlishly at him. “A ‘different setting’?” You rasped. 

He stared fixedly at you. “Mhm, that’s correct,” Steve hummed, his gaze falling to your lips once again before stopping the movement of his finger, “although duty always comes before pleasure.” He inhaled sharply as you were still unable to express yourself, your clothes feeling too tight all at once. “That was too much,” he sighed, shaking his head to himself as he took a step back, away from your personal space, “I don’t want to overwhelm you.”

You touched your lips as you stared at him. “Commander…” you mumbled, “what are you doing?”

He let out a quiet laugh. “Giving in to temptation,” he murmured as your eyes widened, “which I shouldn’t be doing.” He didn’t look at you as he spun around en route to the staircase, intending to leave the library. 

You opened and closed your mouth a few times, not a word coming out of it. 

What were you supposed to say about what just happened?

He paused as his boots touched the set of stairs, glancing sideways and towards you. “You’re doing a good job in almost all the classes,” he told you earnestly as he angled his head in your direction, “keep it up, and next year you will join the New Avengers part-time.”

You should have smiled at his comment, yet you couldn’t help but frown as you thought about the ‘almost’. Mainly because the only class you were failing was one of the three he taught.

-

In the first part of the following week, everything proceeded as usual. However, you were growing frustrated at how you couldn’t get a barely good grade out of that one course in physical endurance, no matter how much Professor Rogers spurred you on. 

You also felt annoyed that he appeared to be tense and uptight around you when alone, though it faded quickly when he had to teach and train you.

It was a late night of a Friday when you went back to your quarters, hoping to find some serenity after another day of grumpiness which you were sure he had noticed. 

As you opened the door of your dormitory, the first thing you saw was The First Avenger sitting on your bed, the moonlight casting a mellowly light on his chiselled lineaments. And just like that, you were speechless once again, your body unable to move from the room’s threshold.

“I was beginning to think you were staying up a bit too late than you usually do,” Rogers began in a deep and low voice, “but thankfully for me, it seems you are a creature of habit.”

You inhaled, the palms of your hands growing clammy against the side of your legs. Something about that sinful tone… “What are you doing here, Commander?”

A languid smile surfaced on the corner of his lips. “Steve,” he corrected you, straightening his back as he splayed his hands over his thighs, “I think it’s time for you to call me Steve, sweetheart.”

You swallowed slowly, your knees about to buckle at the term of endearment. “Steve,” you repeated shakily as you tried to hold his piercing gaze, “Steve.”

He hummed, smoothly getting to his feet. He neared your position, his heated gaze focused on your electrified yet apprehensive one.

Standing in front of you, Steve placed his hands over your hips, drawing your body to his own. You shivered under his touch, gulping as he brought his lips to your forehead, his mouth brushing against it.

“I don’t actually care that you’re failing at one of my classes,” he revealed, goosebumps emerging over your skin at his husky voice, “because I’m not letting you out there in the field anyway.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Oh?” 

He wrapped his hands around your shoulders as he clutched you to himself. “Without passing physical endurance, you will be working only off the field. I think you know that those are the rules.”

You heaved a sigh. “Yes, I already knew that. But I had no idea you had the power to decide who can join the New Avengers.”

Steve smirked at your comment, resting his chin on the top of your head. “I’m the First Avenger,” he reminded you, his hands splayed over the small of your back, “I still hold the designation you like to address me with.”

Oh, so Rogers is a Commander!

He laughed inwardly at your realisation, sensing your inner surprise. “Yeah, that’s right sweetheart,” he murmured, a hand moving to the back of your neck as he ducked his head, peering at you. 

Your heartbeat quickened as he grasped your jaw, tilting your chin up. He brushed his mouth against yours, pausing as your lips lightly grazed and then kissed you hard, swirling his tongue around yours while you tasted his plump bottom lip between your lips. 

Your comfortable sweater and sweatpants fell to the floor as he undressed you with ease, his warm hands gliding over your curves.

His lips moved, ghosting over the column of your throat as he unclothed himself, his bare chest pressing over your semi-nude one as he gripped your thighs and lifted you, your legs clinging around his waist.

He placed you on the bed, his heated, hungry gaze roaming over your body while you observed him through half-lidded eyes, arching your back as he slipped your bra and panties off of you.

Steve caressed your thighs, gently squeezing them. He then lowered himself and began to tease your breasts, a nipple in his mouth while his fingers stroked the other one. 

You moaned softly as your nipples pebbled under his teasing touch, your hands resting over his broad shoulders as his blond locks tickled your chest, and his aroused cock nudged your stomach.

His free hand moved over your sex, his knuckles brushing against your clit while his fingers started rubbing over it in circles as you shuddered, breathy pants leaving your mouth.

He pushed a finger and then two inside your glistening slit, curling them against your sensitive spot as you gasped and arched your hips. “That’s it, sweetheart,” Steve cooed, your pussy clenching around his digits as you glazed them with your wetness, “good girl.”

He changed position and shoved your hips together, his forehead pressing against yours as you breathed heavily, curling your hands around his biceps as to steady yourself.

He clutched your hips and raised them, thrusting inside of you as you let out a deep moan. You hooked your legs around his waist, and he snapped his hips, your pussy swallowing his cock as he speared you.

You trembled as the pad of his fingers found your clit once again, your heart pounding as you tightened around his length. Steve groaned, slamming his hips harder as you tensed, your pussy fluttering around his cock while you moaned out his name.

He kept thrusting as you rode the aftershocks of your orgasm, your entire body shuddering as he lost rhythm and twitched inside of you, his warmth flooding your pussy as your name left his lips with a sigh.

He rested his body on top of yours, wrapping his solid arms around you as you closed your eyes, tears of pleasure pooling behind your eyelids.

“You know, sweetheart, as much as I think you’d be excellent as an off-field agent...” he began, running the tip of his nose over your cheek as you purred at the pleasant skin-to-skin contact, “I believe there’s something else you’d be perfect as.”

You yawned at his words while you nodded, and Steve let out a quiet, amused laugh. 

When you didn’t reply, he took it as a cue to continue talking. “How much would you like to be a stay-at-home mom?”

Your eyes flew open. “What?!”

He nuzzled your neck, his lips curving into a smirk over your skin. “Mothering our future children,” he clarified, “I know you’re just as old-fashioned as I am...if I figured you out correctly.”

Your mouth curved in a knowing smile. “I’d really love to get married first, though.”

—

tags: @threeminutesoflife​ @buckybarnesplumwhore​ @stargazingfangirl18​ @the-soulofdevil​ @caffiend-queen​

[afriendlyblackhottie]

This is for @stargazingfangirl18 5k soft dark challenge.

Prompt: You knew it was a bad idea to cut through the woods (or dark alley) on your way home.

Watchful Eye

Summary: Steve just wants his Sweet Pea to listen

Pairings: Steve Rogers x black!reader

Warnings: minors DNI, smut, Daddy kink, stalking, rough sex, degradation, dirty talk, face fucking, sex toys, spanking, orgasm denial, dub-con, squirting, unprotected sex

(A/N: I FINALLY FINISHED!!! I’ve been dragging my feet with this story forever for zero reason. It’s ridiculous. Please like, follow, and more importantly reblog 💜 ✌🏾)

Tagging: @titty-teetee @zaddychris @queenoftheworldisdead @olyvoyl @liquorlaughslove @mariahthelioness29 @donutloverxo @little-baby-vixen @puffyam1yum1 @brattycherubwrites @iam-laiya @whiskey-cokenfanfic @doloreshazes @thedarkplume @toni9 @golden-ariess @tinystudentfirepurse @honeychicana

——————————————————————————-

Steve was just trying to be a good boyfriend.

You’d been dating for about five months now. To him you were this delicate little thing. There was this softness to you that he’d fallen for quickly. Like you were this flower that needed his protection.

Back when he was on the smaller side, he had Bucky to protect him. Yet whenever some asshole would square up with him instead of picking on someone their own size he’d always try to fight back. He didn’t want you to feel like you ever had to do that.

Even still, it wasn’t like he could be around you 24/7. The both of you had your own busy lives. As clingy as you could be you still liked doing things without him.

With so many creeps running around, he couldn’t help it when he worried. Even if you always made it home safe and sound. It wasn’t until the two of you had been out for a walk. You’d told him about your little shortcut through an alley way.

What followed next was of course this huge fight. Him asking you if you were fucking crazy for doing something as dangerous as walking through a fucking alley alone. You crying because he admits he was a little harsh. Then he forced himself to shut up because he hadn’t meant to upset you so much.

“You know I love you, Sweet Pea,” he whispered in your ear as you wept. “I just don’t want you to get hurt. There are so many people that would hurt you if they knew we were together.” He rocked you back and forth.

By the time you calmed down, his shirt was soaked from your tears, but also smudged with your makeup. You still looked so cute.

He leaned down to place a kiss on your forehead. You don’t stop clinging to him. That’s when he picked you up go carry you to the bathroom where he sat you on the counter as he ran you a bath.

These little hiccups still coming out of your mouth. He felt awful. Getting you so worked up, but he needed you to understand that he was serious. That didn’t mean he should have made you cry like that and he would spend all night making up for it.

First he held you in the bathtub. Trying to make sure you were at least a little calm. Kissing you over and over again until you started to kiss him back. Then he dried you off so he could take you to bed so he could eat your pussy. Just wanting to make you feel better.

So the two of you made up. You told him the shortcut would stop. And god did he wanna believe you. It was just hard when he could tell you were lying to him.

One night he took you out for dinner where he ended up asking about it. Something you’d said made him think back to it. You stuttered out a no. As badly as he wanted to call you out on it, he stopped himself. You wanted to play dumb then okay.

That led him into his current situation. Since that night he’d watched you take that shortcut three times now. The fourth time, he fully intended to reveal himself, but you didn’t do it.

Then his phone vibrated after you’d ducked into some store. This cute little picture of you kissing his cheek popping up on his screen with Sweet Pea written instead of your name.

He took a deep breath as he made sure get the rest of the way home so he could change before meeting you while you told him about how scared you were. Funny he took the alley. You were right it did cut your walk in half.

When he met you, you launched yourself into his arms. He kissed you on your forehead over and over again. Proud of you for being so aware of your surroundings. Ready to scoop you into his arms so he could keep you nice and safe in them.

He really didn’t mean any harm, but he felt better watching over you after that. Knowing that he could make sure you were safe and sound. It gave him a peace of mind.

Until finally you let yourself slip up again. Deciding for the first time in awhile, to go through that damn alley. So he once again followed you. It’s not like he wanted to hurt you or anything.

You walked ahead of him. Not even bothering to turn around. At least you remembered to not let anything slow you down.

It wasn’t until his phone went off that the both of you stopped in your tracks. It didn’t take long either for you to look at him with your bottom lip quivering. Your eyes like you were a deer that got caught in headlights. He clenched his jaw we he watched you start to run around. He doesn’t even know why you bothered when you knew he’d catch you.

As he pushed you into the wall you let out a yelp which made him cover your mouth with his hand. “I’m not gonna hurt you, Baby,” he whispered.

You licked his palm, but considering he’d felt your tongue on his dick on a nightly basis it didn’t exactly phase him. You were so adorable. He couldn’t help it as he chuckled.

“I’ll wait for you to calm down first,” he said before kissing your forehead. “Daddy just needed to make sure his Sweet Pea was safe. Make sure you were following my rules.”

You tried to claw at him with your acrylic so he had to pin your hands against the wall with one of his. He had to admit that even though none of it phased him, he felt a little proud of you for not giving up. His little fighter.

“Shhh,” he said, nuzzling your face with his nose. He needed to get you calm first.

You finally stopped because it was just him. You Stevie wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you. You let out a sob instead.

“It’s okay. You know I won’t hurt you,” he whispered, before finally moving his hand from your mouth, instead taking it to your eyes so he could wipe away your tears.

You coughed as you cried. He hated how upset you looked. It was necessary though. You knew what happened when you defied him. This wasn’t new.

“What did I tell you about walking down here, huh?” He asked, his face still soft. “You need to listen to me, Baby. I just want to protect you.”

You nodded, but didn’t stop crying so he scooped you up so he could carry you home. Making sure you were tucked into his arms nicely. You were still frightening and sobbing into his neck.

“Shhh,” he whispered. “It’s okay. Daddy’s here.”

By the time he got you home, you’d calmed down a little bit. No longer crying into him. He got you cleaned up. Helping you out of your clothes and then stepping under the warm water with you.

You still clung to him. Not like he was about to move you. He’d whisper in your ear that things were okay. Not that it stopped you from whimpering and looking up at him with those puppy dog eyes.

When you were out he made sure you were all nice and cozy in a towel as he sat you on your bed. You’d calmed down for the most part as you waited for his next move.

He turned you towards him as he stood above you. One of his hands behind his back. Damn he looked so good in just his boxer briefs. If you weren’t afraid for what was about to happen next, you’d be drooling. “You know why I’m upset with you,” he said, putting his hand on your cheek stroking the bottom of your lip with his thumb.

“Because I didn’t listen,” you replied with your eyes still all shiny.

“That’s right and do you remember what happens to bad girls that don’t listen to their daddy?”

You sniffled and poked out your bottom lip. “We get spankings.”

“That’s right,” he replied before kissing your forehead. Then he sat beside you not caring when you let out a whimper as he pulled you down and over his lap. “Now, I want you,” he stopped talking when you gasped he pushed a finger into your pussy, twisting them inside you, “to be a good girl for me,” he paused again as he removed them to replace it with something else making your breath hitch in your throat, “because I don’t think you wanna piss me off.”

You nodded, not like he was giving you a choice. His fingers found your clit where he started rubbing it in circles.

“Don’t cum until I tell you,” he whispered. “And, I want you to count every time I spank you.”

“Okay,” you whimpered.

“That’s my good girl,” he cooed, as he moved his hand. “But, I still have to punish you for not listening to me before, Sweet Pea. I caught you going into that alley too many times, but I’m still proud of you for noticing me the last time. So I’ll be a little easy on ya.”

He palmed your ass, but didn’t smack it. You squirmed in his lap because your pussy was still stuffed and the way he was grabbing on you was only reminding you of that. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“Yeah,” he replied. “Because I caught you.”

Finally he smacked one of your cheeks. Making you squeak out, “One.” He smacked your ass again. “Two.”

This went on until he got to ten and then he stopped. Going back to rubbing your ass before a sharp vibration raked through your body as the bullet he’d placed inside you switched on. You let out a squeak. Your ass shaking up.

“Shhhh,” he said. “Keep counting, Sweet Pea.”

He smacked your ass again making you stutter out the next numbers. Trying not to think about it. It was so hard to when the combination of his hand plus the bullet that was hitting against your g-spot. You don’t know how you hadn’t cum yet.

Tears spring to your eyes, but he didn’t stop. You let out this cute moan at the end of some of your words. Finally when he reached thirty he stopped. You took a deep breath as you sniffled.

Fuck you were on the verge of cumming, but you didn’t wanna make him mad. He stopped the bullet making you let out a deep sigh. Then helped you up so you were sitting on his lap.

He kissed your cheek, pulling you closer. Steve chuckled seeing your eyes all watery before pecking your lips. “You took that so well,” he cooed before giving you another kiss. Then one of his hands went to your chin as he deepened it while the other went between your legs.

You squeaked against his lips before pulling away, resting your hand on his cheek. “You’re gonna make me cum,” you whined.

“Don’t you fucking do it.” How was he going to tell you that and not stop.

You were letting out these deep breaths, with your chest heaving up and down. “Oh my god!” You cried because fuck you don’t think you could hold it anymore.

Just as you were about to he stopped, starting to kiss and nip along your neck. You licked your lips trying to scramble your throats together. “Get on your knees.”

You nodded and did as he told you. Legs shaking from your denied orgasms. Fuck you wanted to cum so badly. You kneeled before him, waiting for his next command. You knew better to start before he gave you permission to.

“You wanna suck my cock?” He asked, palming his cock which had hardened in his underwear.

You nodded, biting your lip as you watched him take his dick out. You opened your mouth ready for whatever he told you to do.

He grabbed you by your hair, making you come closer. Putting your face against it. “You made me so mad, Baby. Kiss it better.”

As you placed open mouthed kisses along his length, he held onto your hair. Making you look up at him as you did what he’d told you. Damn he loved how sweet you looked when you worked his cock.

As you started to take him in your mouth, he grabbed his phone. Switching the bullet on again. “Daddy!” You cried.

“Don’t stop,” he groaned, shoving you down so your throat was full of him.

You looked up at him with those watery eyes and if he wasn’t focused on fucking your throat, he probably would have melted. There was something about how you look with his dick in your mouth. How damn cute you looked.

He didn’t stop moving you up and down his length. Making sure you kept going. You were drooling all over him. “That’s it. That’s my good little cocksucker.” He grunted, thrusting up as he held you down.

You choked around him and he let up a little. He stroked your cheek with his thumb before pulling you off of him. You coughed as he switched off the bullet again. You took a deep breath as you got a little bit of relief.

“C’mere, Sweet Pea,” he said, opening his arms for you to climb into. “You’ve been such a good girl for me.” He started kissing all over your face.

Your pussy practically leaking onto his thigh from how stimulated you were. He placed a kiss onto your lips finally before laying you back. He reached between your legs to pull the device out of you.

Steve got on his knees keeping your legs to the side before pushing into you. Your eyes widening at the way his length stretched you out. Sure the bullet helped, but nothing ever prepared you for this thickness.

“Daddy,” you whined. He went really deep inside of you before dragging back out. You whimpered as he shoved in and took forever to pull out. Like he was trying to punish you with each thrusts.

He leaned down, putting his nose against your ear. His breath alone making you tingle. “Yeah, bet you’ll listen to me now, huh?” He whispered.

Your stomach fluttered as you choked out a moan. “I’m sorry,” you squeaked.

“Yeah?” He asked. “You’re sorry? Only because you got caught, huh. You didn’t give a fuck before that.”

You let out a cry as he didn’t stop fucking you in such a teasing way. “I’m sorry,” you repeated. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

Finally he got on his knees so he could spread you wide open. Then leaned down so he could wrap his hand around your neck. “Yeah? You’re sorry? You better be sorry. You know better not to listen to me.”

There was something about the way he’d position himself over you. He was hitting your spot with every fucking thrusts. Your eyes went glassy as tok looked up at him. “You’re gonna make me cum,” you warned him with this pathetic tinge in your voice.

“I told you not to cum until I told you,” he grunted as he stuffed you full.

“I know, but you,” you stopped to cry, “you’re so deep and and and you’re,” you swallowed, “hitting my spot!”

“Fucking hold it,” he demanded, before leaning down to kiss you. As his tongue started to tangle with yours he started fucking into you a little harder.

“I can’t,” you replied breaking apart. “I can’t fucking do it.”

“Yes you can,” he said pecking your lips again. “You’re daddy’s good girl, remember?”

You breathed out, “Uh huh.”

“Then you’ll wait until I tell you,” he said.

“I’m trying,” you answered.

Steve wrapped both arms around your thighs to keep you in place. He leaned down to kiss your neck before using capturing one of your nipples into his mouth. You were already sensitive as fuck. You didn’t need this to.

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!” You chanted. “Fuck! I’m sorry!”

“Yeah? Gonna listen from now on, huh? Won’t be doing that shit again will you?” He asked.

You shook your head. “No. I’m sorry. I promise I’ll be good.”

“I know you will.” He went back to your lips. Keeping his softly right above yours. “You’re my good girl, huh?”

You nodded. “Yes. I’m sorry for disobeying you.”

“It’s okay. I think you learned your lesson,” he said against your lips. “See you’ve been such a good girl, not cumming without permission. Go ahead and cum for me, Sweet Pea.”

You nodded and mewled as you finally let go. Not stopping as all those denied orgasms seemed to finally catch up to you now that he gave you the okay. Squirting around him as you raked your nails up and down his back. “Fuck! Yes! Fuck! Thank you, Daddy.” You buried your face into his neck.

“That’s it. Daddy’s gonna cum in you, Sweet Pea. You ready for Daddy’s cum?”

You nodded with a whimper as your head went back against the pillow. He didn’t stop shoving himself inside of you as he pumped you full. Making sure he could give you everything he had as he pressed his lips to yours again. Kissing you until the two of you were completely spent.

“I’m sorry for not listening,” you finally mumbled as he pulled you into his arms.

“I know,” he said. “And I’m sorry for how I handled it. I just worry.”

“I know, but I can handle myself,” you replied, looking up at him from your spot on his shoulder while your body curled into him.

He chuckled. “I know.”

“Besides, I always carry that knife Bucky gave me.”

Steve laughed, snuggling you in deeper. “That’s my Sweet Pea. Always ready to cut someone.”

“Uh huh, you’re lucky I didn’t use it on you.” You kissed the underside of his jaw.

[needleandhammer]

Fruition

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Female!Reader

Word Count: 6216

Summary: You're the Governor's daughter and you've caught the eye of Boston's most eligible bachelor.

Warnings: Explicit sexual content. Unprotected sex. P in v. Reader's first time having sex. Cunnilingus. Dub con. Possessive!Ransom. Sort of Dark!Ransom. Historically inaccurate. Slight breeding kink. 18+ only!

A/N: Period au. I kept the time period and nobility ranking real vague because I'm not about to research and actually world-build a mashed 19th century American colonies and Victorian period au :D It's not quite as dark!Ransom as I had intended, mostly soft. Inspired by Bridgerton, yes. And the amazing debauchery of @stargazingfangirl18 for their Soft Dark 5k challenge. Congrats and thank you for such amazing stories!

Yet another season of balls, picnics, and courtship.

“Have you heard the news? The young Drysdale is to be named heir to the Thrombey estates.”

“That makes him heir to both Thrombey and Drysdale legacies.”

“Do you think he’s in search of a wife?”

“It’s Drysdale we’re talking about. The only thing he’s in search of is someone to warm his bed for one night.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. All that inheritance must require a wife to keep in order.”

“I wouldn’t mind warming his bed even for one night.”

“Shh! That’s scandalous!”

You heard your name and looked up to see your friend Vincenza approach. “Have you heard? Drysdale is to be—“

“Must I endure an entire evening of talk about that boorish man?”

She giggled at your complaint. “But it’s the talk of the city. Lord Thrombey has replaced his own son with his grandson as heir. And…” She glanced around, leaning close to you to whisper. “I heard that the transfer of inheritance was all due to Drysdale’s uncle’s inability to produce a child.”

Your brow folded, unsure whether such a decision was fair. “Well it’s not our business, Vinnie.”

“But that’s the thing!” Her whisper grew breathless with excitement. “It’s all of our business. Well, those of us not determined to narrow our marriage choices in the name of love.” She shook her head at you with good nature. “If Drysdale is to produce an heir, he needs a wife! It’s certain that all the available ladies of Boston will be trying to earn his favor.”

You sighed as Vinnie hooked her arm around your elbow, both of you weaving slowly through the ballroom.

It wasn’t like you weren’t used to this, hearing gossip about the infamous Drysdale son, the eldest grandson to the retired Lord Thrombey. How such a noble scholar could be related to the notorious heartbreaker sometimes stretched your comprehension. And even more ridiculous, autumn found you as Drysdale’s target for humiliation. You knew such a flirt had no intentions of settling down, yet, he had endeavored to make sure he danced with you at every ball thus far this season, and even called on you at your city townhome. You were quick to inform him that you were uninterested, yet he seemed unbothered. In fact, upon your firm rejection, Drysdale seemed to make it his goal to visit your brother as often as possible - as the two were college pals - ensuring you encountered him several times a week. Drysdale was not outright courting you, but he made his attentions evident to you. Most frustrating of all, he seemed to have a knack for cornering you under the guise of innocently keeping his friend’s sister company. It irked you that your family could not see what you saw.

You caught sight of your brother waving at you, so you led Vinnie in his direction.

Perhaps Vinnie was correct and you were closing doors that were better left open in the opulent realm of nobility courtship. Your chances of marrying for love were slim, but that didn’t mean you could not at least try to maneuver your way closer to those slim chances. Even in Boston’s ruthless high society of meddling mothers, envious debutantes, and arrogant “gentlemen.” But you were the Governor’s first-born daughter – beauty praised by all, poised and sharp, and most accomplished at a number of activities thanks to the Governor and your mother encouraging a diverse array of talents since you were young. Theirs was a happy and long marriage resulting in five children, and supported by a successful political career that you were proud to celebrate. You had no doubt that no matter the pressures of society, your parents would support you if you opposed an incompatible proposal in your search for the right person.

As long as you navigated the nobility’s courtship rituals with the wits you inherited from your own mother, there should be no reason you should lose the romantic interests of countless eligible bachelors, or heaven forbid, fall upon a scandal that may prevent a proposal of love.

Well, there was one reason you might end the season in scandal, by way of delivering a swift knee to the vulnerable private area of one particularly irritating gentleman in full public view of hundreds of good folk who have gathered to enjoy the Senator’s autumn ball. Alas, you were not going to bring that kind of shame to your parents.

The particular reason, the gentleman who irritated you so, was currently greeting your elder brother quietly, whilst his penetrating gaze remained on you. Determined not to be ruffled by his attention, you kept your shoulders back and chin high, sweeping your eyes through the crowd and dancers.

Your attention returned to your group of family and friends when your hand was captured. By him. Hugh Ransom Drysdale Thrombey.

“My, don’t you look breath-taking. It is my pleasure to get to see you tonight, Miss Y/L/N.” Drysdale’s eyes flowed down your form, and much to your chagrin, his smirk widened. No doubt the warm flush on your bare collar would be apparent to him.

You couldn’t help yourself, with those glowing azure eyes of his so clearly admiring your figure. The man was completely inappropriate.

“Yes, it surely is.” You offered a pursed barely-there smile and tugged your hand. He tightened his grip upon your fingers, raising them to meet his lips. You cursed yourself for choosing the delicate lace gloves this evening, as you felt his warm breath feather through the lace onto your skin. He deliberately kept his lips upon your fingers for longer than necessary, curved in that signature smirk.

“Mr. Drysdale, if I may have my hand back. I must obtain a beverage for my sister.”

Mischief twinkled back at you from his eyes. “Allow me to accompany you. I’m sure your brother and mother would both enjoy a drink,” he was quick to close down the objection posed on your lips.

Your brother thanked Drysdale with a clap on his shoulder and motioned for you to go on. You could only give Vinnie a frown as she preened at you with excitement. You proceeded without protest, knowing your brother’s attention was occupied, searching for a Miss Amarea Dane, whom you were certain you would welcome as sister-in-law very soon.

You smiled quietly to yourself, once again dreaming of following in your brother’s footsteps and finding a match so certain and true, so compelled by love and affection, rather than simply honor and title. To think, it had been Drysdale who had introduced the couple.

Suddenly, a man backed up straight into your path. You couldn’t avoid stumbling aside and directly into the arms of Drysdale.

“Watch yourself, Chen. Maybe go easy on the wine,” Drysdale called to the man who raised an empty glass at him with a laugh.

You attempted to straighten up, aware you were surrounded by several people and had just fallen into the embrace of Drysdale, who was notorious for seducing the city’s ladies.

“Let go,” you insisted quietly, dropping your gaze to your wrist which he held on to.

Drysdale gave you stern glance and led you close behind him, keeping his grasp on you hidden as he pulled you through the room.

When the two of you made it beyond the side entrance, you tried retrieving your hand.

“Mr. Drysdale, let go.” You had not wanted to draw attention with so many guests around you. You would die of embarrassment to allow anyone to see Drysdale’s hand on yours beyond the required polite greeting.

“Come, my lady. You cannot blame me for wishing to acquire your attention all to myself.”

“You are being most inappropriate.” You huffed as he pulled into the gardens. “Let go of me this instant.”

“So eager to return to your suitors? I’m sure I saw at least five gentleman who have called on you this month.”

“How can you know of the gentlemen who have called on me?” You dug your heels into the gravel, drawing up short when Drysdale stopped and rounded on you.

“Well, Barber makes no secret of his admiration for you. Or that idiot colonel’s son? And that Wilson fellow makes such noise at the gentlemen’s club about his intent to propose.”

You smiled at his apparent crossness. “Are you tracking my proposals? Are you requesting a fee for updating me about the intentions of my suitors?”

Drysdale stepped closer, his sharp jawline clenched. “So you’re pleased then?”

“Why shouldn’t I be?” You bit back a gasp when he tugged you forward, his hands on your waist which pressed against his front. “If you don’t let go—“

“What will you do?” His smirk returned and your fists pushed against the solid muscle of his arms. “What would you do?” He asked again, dipping his face close to yours. “If someone saw the Governor’s honorable eldest daughter, the pearl of the city, alone in the dark with a man?”

“How dare you? You better let go or my brother –“

“Would only be too happy to welcome me into the family.”

You did not miss his meaning. If you were discovered in this position by anyone, your brother would demand that your honor be redeemed by marriage to Drysdale. As handsome as the man was, you had no wish to pair the rest of your life with a man who flirted with dozens of women each season and broke just as many hearts.

“Well I am certain, sir, he would never force me to marry someone so crude as yourself. He is familiar with your outrageous behavior, so he knows you would make an ill match and I would never consent to it.” You tried leaning back from Drysdale, feeling a growl work from his chest. You couldn’t show him fear, no. You had enough of this man making your life miserable just because he was bored.

He didn’t relent, his palms flexing around your waist tighter. “You think that just because your father protects you, you are beyond the pressures, the claws of people of our standing?” He chuckled darkly. “I assure you, if it was between your happiness and ensuring your family avoids falling from grace, your parents would not hesitate to throw you to the wolves, to sacrifice your childish dreams in order to uphold their status. That’s what you’re searching for, isn’t it? Behind that pretty face are the same silly fancies as all the other girls. Dreams of love.”

“I don’t expect you to understand, so mock me all you want.” You continued struggling, determined to not back down from his burning gaze, but drawing short of breath all the same to have him so close. “Everyone knows you’re too busy fooling around and playing with women who, yes, want to find love. I only pity them for believing you have the ability to give that to them.”

He whispered your name low in warning, his voice sending a flutter down your stomach. You arranged a fierce scowl at him.

“It’s the truth. All you care about are your family’s riches and living like you have no responsibility to your community. Well, go on. Find some poor woman and give your family an heir so you can secure your fortune and continue your wild ways in comfort. But rest assured, I’d rather be thrown to wolves than end up paired with a man like you.”

Your squeak of shock was cut short when Drysdale crashed his mouth on yours. He molded your lips, swallowing your gasp as he sucked your lower lip. You felt suffocated with an intense heat blossoming from your stomach and growing further as you sensed the wet lick of his tongue.

Drysdale knew every time he pushed your buttons he got to enjoy your soft features lighting up just the way he liked; and at the same time he suffered your blatant disdain. For months he had told himself he was only after some entertainment in the form of your admittedly beautiful displeasure directed at him to liven up the droll season. Yet, here he was, unable to restrain himself from touching you, your warm smile haunting his thoughts, the silk of your skin an insufferable craving that occupied him at every hour.

You tried to twist out of his arms, but he held you pressed against him, a soft whimper from you further igniting his desire to wrap you up and make sure no other man witnessed you like this. Breathless. Vulnerable. So, so sweet, just as he imagined you would be.

You were unsure how to respond, failing to escape from his hold. So you fought back with your mouth, lips pushing against his, much to Drysdale’s delight. He barely allowed you to draw breath as he tilted his head, hand caressing the back of your neck to keep you close, quickly sneaking his tongue into the hot cavern of your mouth. He felt you tremble at his invasion, your hands gripping his jacket. He opened his eyes, appreciating the moon’s gleam on your cheek, your lashes fluttering. Despite your drawn brow, he could tell you were no longer opposed to his ministrations. He groaned when your tongue whirled against his.

It was the familiar quiver in your core that struck you and had you thrashing until you had pushed Drysdale away. You could not allow this man to awaken desires within you. You covered your mouth, panting, feeling tears sting your eyes.

You heard your name from him.

“Don’t!” You kept your face hidden with a hand, as though you could hide what had just happened. “Don’t every come near me again, Drysdale.”

“You can’t mean that.”

You stepped back before he could reach you. “I’m sorry. I am to call you Thrombey now, correct? You’ve inherited a title and doubled your worth. Well, don’t for one second think that makes me care for you.”

You rushed out of the garden, praying he wouldn’t catch up. Drysdale breathed deep. Your words stung him.

He shook himself, making a vow. Darling, you’re not getting away from me.

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

No, no, this could not be happening. It was still early in the day and your life was ruined. Or, it would be very soon.

“If you don’t accept my proposal, I will ensure that the whole city hears about your little moonlight tryst with Drysdale. We all know he’s not the type to step up for a woman’s honor. So you’ll be left with a scandal and no further suitors, you can be sure of it.”

That was the threat from Mr. Mildred, the colonel’s son who creeped on the edges of parties and was known to mistreat the help of his household.

You couldn’t stand the thought of marrying Mildred. Yet, what were your options? Your parents would heed your wishes, but the shame of a scandal would be hard for your family to recover from. You father’s reelection might even be impacted. Boston may be a modern city but progress was slow when it came to the rules of courtship amongst upper social circles. And your marriage prospects, well, very few bachelors would come calling once they heard you described as a loose woman.

It had been too much to hope that no one witnessed what happened in the garden.

You stood, restless and angry with yourself. How could you have melted into Drysdale’s touch? That was just as agonizing to you as Mildred’s words. Ever since you first met Drysdale, heard of his leisurely bachelor ways and his aversion to marriage and family, you had vowed to never fraternize with anyone of his nature. He was everything you did not want for a stable, loving family and spouse.

So many months, you had been forced to hear him mock you with pleasantries, intrude on your homely comforts, charm your mother and sisters, monopolize your brother’s time. And yet. His broad form hovering close to you as you practiced pianoforte. His many glances with those sky blue eyes during park strolls. The low purr of his voice that followed you into your dreams. Drysdale had managed to worm his way into your subconscious. At one point, you had thought he was tolerable, kind, and perhaps capable of sincerity; but that night in the garden had shown you his true colors.

Two days later, you fared no better. Your mother summoned you into the parlor, sharing that she had encountered Mr. Mildred at a tea party and he mentioned a dreadful whisper he believed to be about you and a gentleman together without chaperones in the Senator’s garden.

Had Mildred run out of patience already? Your mother’s tight frown was your answer. You apologized profusely, tears escaping as you tried to hold yourself together in the presence of someone you had sworn never to disappoint.

Apparently, Mildred informed your mother that such a whisper had not spread far, but he could not be certain of preventing its spread.

You were interrupted by the house maid, bringing a letter to your mother informing of a dinner visit.

The rest of your day, your head ached with the decision you had to make. Drysdale would not be affected by the gossip but you would not remain unscathed for long. Even with the respect your father received as Governor, your prospects grew slimmer than ever. Yet you could not accept a sacred vow of lifelong marriage to the conniving Mildred.

And Drysdale, well, you told yourself you would not entertain the idea. You had rejected his advances once already. You told yourself he had only courted you to add to his conquests and he only continued to antagonize you to alleviate his boredom.

It wasn’t until you entered the dining room that you realized your mother’s dinner guests were the Drysdales, including Lord Thrombey. You lowered yourself into a seat next to your sister, forcing a smile at Lady Drysdale before her strident tones returned to a conversation with your mother. Movement to your other side prompted you, but your smile fell flat to see Ransom Drysdale beside you. He only nodded to you, though you caught his eyes glinting with purpose before he turned to your brother.

It was halfway through dinner that Drysdale made the announcement. He had requested your father’s permission and was proposing to you this very night.

You scarcely noted your two families’ reactions, excusing yourself from the table and winding up in the dimly lit back yard of your home.

“Why?” you asked as soon as you heard footsteps behind you. Turning to Drysdale, you demanded, “Why are you doing this?”

He watched you, eyes dark and framed by thick lashes. His jaw tensed and then he stepped up to you, looking down at you.

“As you said. I have to earn my inheritance. I need an heir for my grandfather. For that to happen, I need a wife.”

You shook your head, his words striking at your heart.

“You’ll do just fine, I suppose,” he finished.

“No!” You shoved at his chest, barely swaying him. “You don’t get to do this. This is my life.”

“I heard what Mildred was going to do,” he said, swallowing hard. “If I didn’t propose, you’d have to marry him. Or –“

“I would deal with the gossip however I see fit! How could you come to my home and propose in front of our entire families. How could you—“

He wrapped his hands around your biceps, dragging you close. “You can’t say no.”

Helpless, you could only silently deny his ruthless words with an anguished shake of your head.

“You can’t say no to me. No matter what you tell yourself about how merciful your lovely society friends will be. We both know if you don’t accept my proposal…” He glanced away with a chuckle before eying you, his grin cocky, sneering. “And don’t even bother thinking you might escape from this by actually marrying Mildred. He’ll back off as soon as he hears the new Lord Thrombey has proposed. Either way, looks like you’re not going to the wolves.”

One hand grasped your neck and jaw, drawing your lips to his. He could sigh with relief. He had not been able to rest ever since tasting you.

“Drysdale –“

“Ransom,” he whispered, rubbing his lips to yours before reclaiming them in a deeper kiss that consumed all of your senses. You couldn’t gather your wits to question how he managed to force all thoughts from your mind. Surely your anger was the source of the sparks lit in your breast as you felt his tongue sweep into your mouth roughly. You sagged against him. Ransom’s lips released you, trailing along your skin.

“Call me Ransom.” His order came firm as he dropped kisses down the corner of your mouth to your ear. It pained him to be the cause of your tears, but he would be damned if he let that weasel Mildred sully your name, or get to twist his fingers in your dark tresses, learn your curves, taste your lips. No, Ransom would be your villain.

“R-Ransom,” you gasped out, so aware of his body heat rolling against you, his thick arms encircling you.

“Accept my proposal.” He knew he had crushed his very slight chances of being on the receiving end of your kind heart, forcing your hand like this.

He pressed his forehead to yours, warm hands framing either side of your face. His thumbs stroked away your tears, and you were struck by the earnest plea in his eyes.

"Alright."

He took a deep breath and stepped back from you, his face a cool mask. "Let us inform our families."

This may be another game to him, an easy means to an end. For you, it wasn’t a choice.

--‐-------------------------------------------------------------------------

You made it through your short engagement and overly grand wedding by devoting your entire energy to convincing your family that you were the eager, blushing bride. You offered minimal answers as your dear sister asked about how Drysdale – no, how Ransom had claimed your heart. You dutifully picked out wedding bouquets with your mother and responded to the well wishes of your father’s friends.

All the while, your busy schedule served as an excuse to avoid your groom-to-be. With middling success. Now that he had claimed your hand, and more, proved your dreams were all for naught, he couldn’t resist reminding you to your face how naïve you had been. Worse, he took advantage of his status as your fiancé.

He took the opportunity at every lunch to sit close to you and toss that triumphant smirk your way. He invited you to the park with your family, leading you ahead and lacing his fingers through yours as he put on a show of holding you steady upon the walkways. He played the love-struck bachelor, dragging you between the far shelves of your father’s library and exploring your mouth with a frenzy that left you dizzy. Your resistance was no match for his determination to overpower you, to flaunt his victory. Yet, you could almost see the arrogant curl of his mouth morphing with each kiss as his eyes softened. And each time, you grew more hopeless - conflicted - as his touch grew familiar, satisfying a part of you which you could not control. You were truly out of your depth when it came to Ransom.

It mattered not. You could not take back your word. The Governor’s daughter that you were so proud to be could not collapse in your own despair. As far as anyone was concerned, you and Ransom had both discovered an unlikely, passionate love for one another and wished very badly to wed.

You should have been exhausted after the early day of wedding celebration you had endured with Ransom, the incomparably handsome and gallant groom. And after many hours riding out to Halifax, the Thrombey country home. Your new home.

But a new challenge was upon you this late night - your wedding night. At least, that had been your sole problem up until Ransom had deposited you in your marital chamber and excused himself. You had absentmindedly, nervously, glided around the room to admire the woodwork. Only to notice a parchment corner peeking from the drawer of an antique desk. Which led you to open the drawer and pluck at the papers with your name upon them.

The pearl of the city. An apt title, yet it fails to define your beauty, Y/N…

…Is it a gift or a curse that I should be visited with visions of your sweet face as I sleep…

Barry speaks highly of you, his sister, and your affinity for family, your desire for a true love. A shame that such an exquisite soul should be beyond my grasp. No, I have earned this torture. I could never deserve you, nor offer you what you deserve…

So many lines speaking of admiration for your character, yearning to learn what would be worthy of your affections, admissions that you were too sweet, too good to be burdened with him. Words hinting of curiosity, of desire for a future with you, a family unlike the one he grew up with.

…I can only laugh at myself for daring to dream God might have mercy on me and lead me into your arms, and lead us to the dreams you and I share…

The sound of the door swinging open had you looking up to meet Ransom’s gaze. He slowed in his entrance, seeing the pile you clasped in hand.

“Those are mine,” he said, voice tight. His hands curled with your big eyes shining upon him full of question.

“My name is on them. They’re mine,” you countered.

“Forget them,” he commanded. “They are only…”

“Fancies? Silly dreams of…love?” you asked. “You’re a talented writer.” You smiled seeing his flushed cheeks, his averted, shy grimace.

“I used to sit with my grandfather for long hours. Reading. Discussing stories.”

“Did your grandfather also help you practice writing love letters?”

He smiled without mirth. “No. I figured I wanted to make a fool of myself so I documented foolish musings.”

You closed the distance between you. Your face was uplifted, beseeching Ransom to meet your eyes. He could not ignore your presence, attention intense on him and almost more than he could bear.

“Is there truth in these words?” you asked quietly, careful not to spook this man, this loud, cocky man who had presented you with such a convincing disdain for anything sincere.

“It does not matter.”

“It matters. Because you chose me.” You pressed your fingertips to his lip, stopping his protest. Ransom closed his eyes for moment, barely believing you were touching him of your own will. He breathed in your perfume, disoriented by your proximity, your discovery. “Why did you never…?”

“Because I’ve always known such things were childish. My own parents proved to me a long time ago love has little value in a family.”

You shook your head in protest of such cynicism. But the bitter turn of his mouth reminded you of various instances in his family's presence - his parent's demand for recognition and power, his uncle scoffing at expressions of kindness.

“Because I felt foolish for even wanting something different. You were right. Anyone would be lucky to avoid me and my family. We’re a sham. There’s nothing beneath the surface for my parents and they’ve taught me well.”

“There’s more,” you insisted.

“Well then I’m a coward because I can’t bring myself to go in search for more. You were right. I am content with my family’s fortune. I would have been fine growing old alone, but I had to trap you with me. Now, you won’t achieve your marriage of love, your desire for a warm family.”

You cupped his cheeks, forcing him to look at you. “I was the coward.” You drew him down, closing your eyes and pressing your foreheads together. “I saw more in you, but I was afraid. Afraid of risking my heart, afraid I might achieve the very thing that I have been yearning for.”

He whispered your name. You hushed him.

“Tell me. Do you truly love me?”

His breath feathered against your lips. “I love you.” There was such a raw vulnerability in his confession.

“Then that is all that matters. You and I will build the family we dreamed of. I promise.”

Like your vow had snipped him loose of his control, he yanked you in and kissed you hard.

“Be mine,” he murmured between sucks of your lips, drinking you in. “Give me all of you, and I swear, love, I’ll be your family. I’ll give you anything.”

You believed him. Cupped his head in yearning. “Yes. Yes, Ransom.”

His hands tugged impatiently at your gown, dragging the outer layers down. Long fingers pulled at your skirts. You worked at undoing his vest and shirt. Your hands trembled to feel his bare skin, the tickle of chest hair and such warmth emanating against you as he drew you close. You gasped to feel his hands squeezing your curves through your thin shift, seeking with greed for more. He walked you both to the bed and placed you in the middle, laid out for him as he had dreamt for months.

His touch dipped under your shift, setting your heart racing. As his mouth danced lower, he growled, tearing the top of your shift to expose your bare tits and mouth hungrily at them. You couldn’t stop wriggling, clutching around his neck and shoulders, arching up to his tongue that flicked a nipple before sucking.

“I’ve wanted you so long. Want to taste you.”

Before you knew it, you felt him panting at the delicate flesh between your legs, no article of clothing remotely hiding your body from him. He stopped you from closing your thighs, fingertips bruising as he held you open and licked broad stripes at your sex. You had never imagined such sensations, such a heat as Ransom so thoroughly pulled you apart with his mouth.

He watched through his lashes as you writhed, testing what you enjoyed most. His tongue teased at your entrance and then breached you to lash your inner walls. Your sharp cry had him groaning as his hard cock begged for friction. Your gasps bordered on sobs and he needed to see you fall off that edge.

His lips closed around your increasingly wet petals, shaking his head back and forth and sucking hard. When his teeth scraped your clit, your mouth froze open, your back arched off the bed and locked in feverish pleasure. Your rapture pulsed through you as he pressed his tongue flat to your throbbing bud.

“Darling, look at you.” How glorious you looked, soft and panting. Ransom climbed forward to kiss you, sharing the earthy tang of your pleasure. You hummed into his mouth, still drifting in a hazy cloud.

“Look at me, love,” he whispered. You opened your eyes. He watched you, lust and joy burning in his gaze. “You’re mine.”

You nuzzled his nose, whispered, “I’m yours.” Your breath left you as his cock, thick and insistent, pressed into you, pushing in and in until you felt nothing but full.

His lips never stopped kissing your face, your jaw, your mouth. As if he could tell the very instant the sting receded for you, Ransom moved, thrusting shallow. You found yourself wrapped around him, clinging as you had never been so desperate for another person before.

His moans and grunts joined you as he sped up. Everything he was doing, his hips clapping your thighs, his weight caging you, rekindled the thrill in you, the pleasure mounting more when he managed to slide his hand between you and swipe at your clit. You keened, unable to beg him to finish you off, but you knew he would do it. Knew he wouldn’t stop. His mouth sucked at your neck and he angled his thrust just so. You were lost to the world, grinding up against Ransom, chasing the pleasure that crackled from your core. Ransom nearly crushed you to the mattress as his rhythm rose to a frantic end and he released his seed through his swelling cock to fill you.

Your name rasped from him as he ground his hips into you with the instinctual need to ram his seed into your womb.

Long hours later, after Ransom’s need to claim you again resulted in multiple releases for you both, when you had caught your breath, you let him wind his naked form around yours.

You drifted off to his sleepy murmurs of, “I’m yours.”

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

A month later and Ransom maintained firm control of your attentions, both mental and physical. He seemed intent on desecrating every room of the vast country home. One afternoon, the two of you had toured the family’s art collection. He had lured you into an alcove to view a Verocchio sculpture. You ended up with his face buried between your legs under the sculpture’s shadow, biting your fist to quiet your moans as Ransom’s tongue thrust into you. Right before you came, he slipped out from your skirts, bunching them at your waist and pushing you up against the wall. Your faced pressed into his neck with relief to feel his cock stretch you. Opened you up with rough jolts as your legs drew tight around him. His hips snapped urgently, quickly blazing flames within you until your explosive climax overwhelmed you. He fucked you until he came, biting your shoulder as he rutted hard to push his release deep into you, until you were overfilled and his spend seeped out and trailed between the two of you to mix with your own juices.

Tonight, his desire for you was unrestrained. Already, he had kissed and licked what seemed like every inch of your skin. Your release dripped from you and into his greedy mouth latched to your folds as you came down from your high, tugging his dark locks of hair.

“Ransom, please.”

“Yes, love?” His lips grazed a path up your stomach, then up between your breasts littered with red love bites. He rubbed his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent.

“Need to feel you.”

Ransom grinned. He pulled you upward, lifting and turning you so you rested in his lap with your shoulder blades meeting his chest dusted with fine hair. You arched your back, feeling his hard, leaking cock so hot against your skin. His fingers combed your hair aside, mouth nipping and kissing from your neck to your shoulder.

His hand cupped your sex, groaning at the soaked heat of you. He guided you, lifting up just enough to run the sensitive head of his cock through your folds. Your whine forced more precum to dribble from his slit. He could resist no longer, his cock splitting you open as he drew you down upon his lap until he was buried to the hilt in your tight heat. Soft curses met your ears. You bit your lip, grinding back and forth. Ransom squeezed your waist, held you still.

“Ransom…”

Damned, how he loved the sound of his name falling from you, needy and wrecked from pleasure. And still wanting more of him. He couldn’t begin to guess how someone like him could deserve your affections and loyalty. Good thing he was a greedy bastard, unrepentant of his actions that had blessed his home and bed with you.

Shivers wracked your spine when he cooed at you with his gravelly tone. “You want me, love?”

“Want you so bad.”

He smirked at your whimper when he swirled his groin slow beneath you. His tongue teased along your earlobe, driving a plea from you.

“Want you, Ransom. Oh, please.”

“And you’ll give me what I desire, yes? Will you, love?”

You managed jerky nods, choking when he slid agonizingly slow from your cunt and pushed back into you. Only to stop and hold himself there, speared maddeningly in you.

His breath tickled your ear. “You, love, are going to give me a baby. Yes?”

He drove his hips up, drawing a moan from you.

“Isn’t that right, darling?”

“Y-yes…Rans…ah” You stuttered with his deep, hard strokes.

“Is that what you want? Hm? Big, beautiful family with me?”

“Yes.” Your response rushed out, breathy.

“Love you. Want to fill you up over and over.”

You whined loud, his words and the drag of his thick cock inside you driving you crazy.

“Because you’re mine. You’re all mine.” His hand curled over yours, pressing your palm and fingers to your core where the two of you were joined beneath dark curls. “Feel that?”

“Oh god.” You surely felt what he wanted you to. His steely member claiming you again and again.

“Yes, feel me and you? This.” He kept your hand there, feeling every push and pull of his cock, from inside and out, so you couldn’t escape him. “Feel how you belong to me? All of you. You’re mine forever.”

“I’m yours….” You cried out as his rhythm sped up. “Ransom!”

You threw your head back, both yours and his fingers circling the nub of your inflamed clit, his harsh breaths beating against your neck as his words blended.

“Mine,” he grunted.

Your pleasure burst like a dam, your release splashed and squirted out, then throbbed with his relentless touch. The wave spread outward, tensing your muscles, buzzing upon your skin. Feeling you squeeze and flutter around him drove Ransom to the brink until all he could think of was filling you, rooting his seed into you so you grew soft and big with his child. You were the beginning and finish of his everything.

Ransom couldn’t stop himself. His strokes grew uneven but remained deep, hard, determined. His arm wrapped around you tight as he launched you both forward, driving you onto your hands and knees so he could rut as deep as possible. You moaned, overcome with the hot rush of his seed filling you and his cock pounding it deeper into you.

You both settled into the bed with tangled limbs, slowing your breaths and the ache of desire. Your toes curled, enjoying the pressure of his cock nestled in you still, content that you both were looking forward to your first child. To a family all your own.

[jadegrey711]

Trouble

Soft dark!Andy Barber x Fem!Reader

A/N: Hello everyone! So recently I’ve become absolutely obsessed with both @navybrat817​ and @stargazingfangirl18​ who both write absolutely amazing stuff and I want to be them when I grow up. So when I found out Siri was doing a 5k writing challenge i figured i’d throw my hat in the ring and maybe get out of this depression writing slump. 

So I decided to make a vey very very! Soft!Dark Andy Barber x Fem!Reader. Seriously it’s like Dark Light lol. But I hope you all like it! I hope to do another one before the month is over but let’s see shall we? 

*NOT MY GIF. Credit in the TAGS*

Word Count:1484

If you like my stories you can check out my sideblog @jadegreywriting​​ to see all of them and my masterlist without filtering through my main blog.

I own all rights to this story and do not give permission for my stories to be published, translated or reposted anywhere else. The only places I have published my stories is here on Tumblr and on my AO3 account (LadyAuthor711) 

This story is for 18+ ONLY. It contains sexual themes that are not suited for younger audiences so if you’re under 18 my blog and this story is not for you. Please make sure to read at your own discretion and remember that you are solely responsible for your content intake. 

WARNINGS: Sexual Situations (18+ ONLY), Overstimulation, possessive Andy, deeply jealous Andy, Oral sex (F Receiving), Vaginal sex. 

Other warnings include very mediocre writing. 

He watched you from a distance as he continued talking with his fellow associates, making sure to keep a watchful eye on you as you chatted with the wives. He smirked to himself knowing you must be bored out of your mind, but you did it for him and he loved you for it. 

Suddenly though, Andy watched as Neil Logiudice approached you from behind, putting a hand on your arm. You seemed startled for a minute and then smiled, putting your hand on top of his and Andy saw red. 

He barely registered what the others in his group were talking about. Because his gaze was focused solely on you and Neil and how cozy you were in each other’s company. How you and the other women laughed at some joke he made and about how in the three minutes he had been standing there he hadn’t been able to keep his fucking hands off of you. He felt like breaking each one of those fingers, making sure he let Neil know that he was never to touch you again. He could feel his whole body vibrate with violence as he continued watching, knowing you were none the wiser. 

Neil was nice enough and he was an associate of Andy’s so when he put his hand on your arm to get your attention you let it slide, putting your hand on top of his and gave it a friendly pat fighting the urge to swat it away immediately. You were at a party full of Andy’s work friends and associates so making a scene over something small would not be a good impression on either your part or Andy’s; so you let it slide and you let the other four times he touched you slide as well. Even as you were mentally flinching each time he did it. After the fourth time you looked around the room for Andy, looking for an escape of some kind and immediately found him; across the room and boring holes into the back of Neil’s head with that dark gaze. 

You took that as your cue to quickly excuse yourself, saying that it was getting rather late and you should go and find Andy. Everyone waved you off as you departed from the group and over to where Andy was. 

“Hi honey.” You smiled, grabbing his hand and lacing your fingers with his and while everyone else in the group was still talking you heard Andy sigh and grip your fingers back; turning his face towards your he gave you a small smile. 

“Do you want to get out of here?” He whispered in your ear.

“Definitely!” You whispered back. Before you plastered a smile on your face as Andy said goodbye to everyone and then put his hand on the small of your back and guided you out the exit. 

**

Later that night after you both had gotten home, gotten into bed and as Andy had your leg over his strong shoulder while he devoured your soul between your legs did he bring up Neil. 

You writhed on the bed, your fingers tangled in Andy’s hair as you felt your orgasm coming on fast with the pace he was eating you out at. When suddenly Andy surprised you. 

“You good friends with Neil now?” he asked nonchalantly against your folds, before he sucked harshly on your clit. Making you groan. 

“What?” you asked confused at what he was possibly asking you right now as he was sucking all rational thought out through your pussy. 

“Are you good friends with Neil?” He asked again, giving your clit another harsh suck. And you felt your legs convulse. 

“What the fuck Andy?” You asked but the sound of his name was more of a moan as he added two of his fingers and pumped your sweet pussy. 

Andy didn’t give for a minute as he continued to suck and lick at your folds until you finally came, but instead of gently working you through your orgrasm, his fingers kept their harsh pace as he looked up at you. 

“You seemed like real good friends when you let him put his fucking hands on you.” He growled as he placed an open mouth kiss on your pussy. His other hand pulling the hood of your clit back before placing another one of those kisses there and sucking it again. 

“Fuck! Andy! I’m gonna come again.” you cried out, feeling that the pleasure was starting to be too much for you. But the way that you started to pull on Andy’s hair to pull him off or the way your hips turned away from him his touches didn’t deter him one bit as he continued with his interrogation. 

He leaned up from you and watched his fingers stroke in and out of you before he added a third one, earning a low whine from you as you felt yourself building up to another orgasm.

“You didn’t answer my question sweetheart. Why did that fuck think he could put his hands on what is mine?” 

“Andy.” you moaned, trying to get away from his touch but he wasn’t having any of that as he placed his heavy bicep over your stomach, keeping you there at his mercy. 

You felt that sinful tongue run through your folds again, his thick beard scratching your thighs adding whatever sensations you were feeling to new heights. Then he pulled out his fingers so he could fuck you with his tongue now. Your third orgasm coming like a runaway freight train. You felt your toes curl as your third orgasm washed over you making you lift from the bed like Andy was performing an exorcism on you. 

You felt tears in your eyes as you tried again to pull away from Andy’s touches feeling your thighs tremble uncontrollably now but Andy wasn’t stopping not until he got what he wanted from you; not until he got an answer for why Neil thought he could put his hands on what didn’t belong to him. 

“Fuck Andy! Stop!” you sobbed. “He just came up to me. I didn’t want to make a scene about some guy putting his hand on my arm so I didn’t do anything  about it. I knew you were right there if I felt uncomfortable and I did; so I left.” you cried out, feeling the tears roll down your cheeks. “Please honey stop.” you sobbed. 

You watched in relief as Andy pulled his plump lips away from your aching pussy, and felt your pussy clench at the sight of his beard absolutely drenched in your juices. But your relief was short lived, as you saw the look in Andy’s eyes, the feral look they held in them. 

“He made you uncomfortable?” 

“Yes, but I came straight to you. Please Andy I can’t take it anymore baby please.” you whined. 

“I should break everyone of his fingers for laying a fucking hand on what’s mine.” He said softly, placing chaste kisses on your inner thighs and you let out a small cry. You watched in relief as he climbed up the length of your body, and ladened you with soft hungry kisses, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. 

“I love you.” he said softly, giving you another soft kiss. “I’m so glad that you felt that you could just come to me when you were feeling uncomfortable. I never want you to feel that way again so next time, you’ll just stay with me the whole time okay?” 

You quickly nodded and kissed Andy back. You both just stayed there like that for a minute, him hovering and stretched over your body, ladening you with soft kisses before he pulled away from you and gave you a wicked smile. 

“But I think you have one more in you baby.” he said and before you could even react. Andy grabbed the back of each of your legs, bringing you closer to him, before he swiftly impaled you with his achingly hard cock.

Andy set a brutal pace obviously trying to get you off one more time before he loses all control. You let out a high keen, and grabbed onto Andy, your nails raking down his back; a small revenge for him absolutely wrecking you tonight all because of some asshole touching you. 

“I’m gonna fill you up so nicely baby. No one will ever have any doubt that you are mine.” he let out a low grown. “And that I’m yours.” he growled leaning down to suck and place kisses on your neck. 

Without warning your orgasm crashed over you and you were sure that if Andy wasn’t there pressing down onto you, you would’ve snapped in half from the force of it. As Andy chased his own end, he kissed the tears that were flowing down your cheeks. 

“Nothing fucks with my baby.”

[dollslayer]

Botanical Interest

Soft!Mob!Steve Rogers x reader

Summary: You’re a florist working the wedding of Brooklyn’s most respected mob boss when you catch the eye of his best man.

W/C: 1557

Warnings: Allusions to violence, swearing, copious amounts of blushing

A/N: My second ever fic! I wrote this as an entry to @stargazingfangirl18 ‘s Soft Dark 5k Challenge (congrats!) using dialogue prompt 9 (bolded) with a Mob!AU. No smut, just fluff. While I’m a sucker for Soft!Dark I thought I’d keep it light and fluffy! Might enter a second one with some darker themes.

I’m brand new to writing and the fandom so if you want you can check out my first fic (also a Mob!AU!) and please reach out with any and all comments or thoughts! I’m eager to know!! Cheers!

Botanical Interest Masterlist I Main Masterlist

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The first time you saw him you didn’t actually see him because you ran square into him while you were looking the other way. Stubbing your nose right into his chest and nearly spilling the contents of the box you were holding.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going and I’ve got so much to do so I’ve been running around and I just didn’t see you I’m-“

“Forgiven. You’re forgiven, sweetheart” a smoky voice with confidence and amusement informed you.

You loved being a florist but you were short handed for this wedding and needed to get a move on. You wouldn’t have taken the job but the infamous Bucky Barnes, King of Brooklyn himself was getting married. It would be great exposure for you but when a man like him asks something of you you don’t exactly have a choice. In all the chaos of it you didn’t watch your step.

Cheeks still burning with embarrassment, your eyes met those of Barnes’ right hand man, Steve Rogers. Now you weren’t just embarrassed you were nervous.

Taking a step back and shuffling the box in your hands you sent him a sheepish smile. “Right, well, sorry again. I’ve really got a lot to do before the ceremony, so...” trailing off you started to walk away. Just distract yourself with the work and try not to worry whether you’d just offended a member of the mob.

—————————————

Steve nodded and gave you a small smile, letting you return to the task at hand. There was some issue with the venue and the owners were being stubborn but the wedding planner was busy putting out a different fire. So, being the best man that he was, he decided to come down and use his ‘persuasive skills’.

He almost forgot what he was there for as he watched you walk away. Sure, you looked a little crazed in your work but you were cute. Frazzled but determined as you tinkered with the centerpieces, he let himself be distracted for a moment.

Sighing as his phone buzzed asking for an update on the venue, he shook his head. With a scowl he straightened his posture and clenched his fists as he set off in search of the property manager. Poor bastard.

—————————

30 minutes, 2 punches, and one very credible threat later Steve was leaving the manager's office. He held the door and looked at the man one last time, “And I think I’ll stay to make sure you don’t get any ideas about going back on the agreement.”

At least that was his excuse for sticking around. He still had some time before he needed to get changed so he ambled around until he spotted you across the large room. Planting himself against the wall, a tiny smile on his face as he watched you place each stem with care.

You still looked a little pressed but he could tell you were really enjoying what you were doing. He liked to see a woman hard at work and good at what she does. He liked seeing you so flustered earlier when you ran into him. The heat flooding to your face told him you knew exactly who he was. Good.

Bending to reach a stray peony he took a moment to admire your body. He had to wonder if the blush on your face earlier would be the same one you’d have when he’d whisper dirty things into your ear.

Letting his imagination wander a little bit he didn’t realize you’d gone outside. Maybe it was a good time for Steve to step out and have a smoke.

———————————

You felt some relief as you saw him take off in another direction and felt relief. Finally letting yourself relax a bit you started on the arch. You heard yelling from down the hall but decided to ignore it, you didn’t have time to worry about it.

Some time later you were still working on the arch when you noticed something in the corner of your eye. Taking a moment to look up you saw that it was Steve. What was he doing? Whatever. He said he forgave you just focus on the arch. You worked the best you could to not let his presence bother you.

Finally done with the arch, you needed to go back to the van for more supplies and finishing touches. Letting yourself forget about your unexpected company you climbed into the back of the van and hauled out some boxes.

“You need help with that, sweetheart?” He offered.

You hadn’t expected him out here and let out a shriek. Jesus Christ is he following me now? Steve casually walked over to you with a quirk in his brow waiting for an answer.

“I- Uh, no. No, I’m good. I’m great, actually. My assistant is somewhere around so I don’t need help so you can just, uh, go, I guess. Thanks though.” How you managed to get the entire sentence out only stumbling slightly in your words was beyond you.

“Alright. Well if you need some muscle or a strong set of hands... I’ll be around for a while.” He responded while sporting what you were sure was his signature grin.

You watched him make his way back inside and let out the breath you definitely knew you were holding. Just finish the flowers and get out. You can do this.

—————————

The reception was winding down and you waited for the last guests to leave before you started disassembling things. Waiting out back with the van and your assistant you thought back to your awkward interactions with Steve.

You knew he was dangerous, or at least what he did was dangerous. He didn’t say one threatening word to you and he still had your palms sweating. Hopefully the wedding party would be long gone and you wouldn’t have to see him again.

The lights were starting to come up and you put yourself to task but before you did you took a moment to really admire the arch. Hours of work, hundreds of peonies and ranunculus and so much greenery all put together in one beautiful piece. You couldn’t help but snag a picture.

“It really is gorgeous. Not as gorgeous as you though.” That voice again, seemingly out of nowhere.

“Jesus Christ!” Startled for the second time by him that night your anger got the better of you. “What’s your deal huh? Why are you watching me? Am I on some list now?”

He barked out a laugh in response. “I swear I didn’t mean to start watching you, it just sort of... happened” He admittedly almost sheepishly. “You’re cute when you’re focused, you’re also cute when you’re mad.”

You could only blink at him. What do you even say to that? ‘Thanks, I find you terrifying’? “Um, thanks, I guess.” Good enough.

He held his hand out to you. “Steve Rogers.” You held your hand out to shake when he took it and kissed it instead. You stated your name as calm as you could. When he released your hand you noticed some bruises on his knuckles. Lest you forget who he is.

He seemed to notice you caught that detail. “Don’t worry. I don’t hurt anyone who don’t deserve it, certainly could never hurt a pretty face like yours.” You blushed at the compliment and turned your head. 

“I… should probably get back to the flowers. Don’t wanna be here all night.” You shifted your attention to the arch and began the process of dismantling it. 

“I wouldn’t mind it. Here, Doll”. He noticed you searching around for your tools and handed them to you. “Let me help you, these things look heavy”. You really shouldn’t. A piece of you kept placing this warning around him but every time he opened his mouth he was so sweet. How could you say no?

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So that’s how the big scary mobster found himself surrounded by flowers and skipping out on the after party. He asked you about yourself, how you got into floristry, he listened to you geek out about flowers. You asked him about himself and he did his best to answer while trying not to scare you off. Something about how confident you were in your work but how shy you got reeled him in. He didn’t care who saw him grinning like an idiot at you. 

As he helped you load the last of your things and close the back doors of your van he leaned against it. “So, the Brooklyn Botanic Garden is just around the corner from my place but I’ve never been. Think a professional like you could spare some time for an uninformed punk like myself?” 

______________________________

Was he asking you out? You couldn’t fight the growing smile on your face. You know what he does is… less than ideal but talking to him you really felt good chemistry between the two of you. He was funny and genuine and those moments where he was a little shy telling you about growing up as a scrawny kid had you feeling like you were peeking in on a side of him that you’d never expect. You looked up at him still smiling.

“Oh what the hell? When are you free?”

[sage-writing]

Criminal Business // Ransom Drysdale [Mob AU]

Mob! Ransom Drysdale x female Mob! reader

Summary: As part of criminal etiquette, you host a dinner for the gang leaders of the east coast. One of them has a special eye on you.

Word count: 3,186

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, dark story, dub con, explicit sexual content, explicit language, smut, unprotected sex (stay safe), oral sex (female receiving), vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, violence (fight between characters), implied pregnancy, slight praise kink [Read at your own risk]

A/N: This is my contribution to @stargazingfangirl18 “Siri’s 5k Soft Dark Challenge”. Congratulations on your 5k😘 I love your content and I look forward to checking my tumblr feed every morning (due to the time difference) and reading your new posts. It was so much fun writing on this challenge. Although I changed the CE character twice🥴 I started with Andy, then it was Ari and in the end it became Ransom (I hope I didn't mess up any character details in this chaos😂). Prompts I have used are in bold. aaaand as always I am not an English native speaker so there will be probably some errors. Feedback is always appreciated ❤

With one finger you corrected the position of the wine glass. Tonight, everything had to go perfectly. The last few days you had your nervousness under control, but now it was time and you couldn't back out now. Once a year, the mob bosses met for a dinner, hosted by one of them in turn.

After you took over the family business from your father two and a half years ago, it was your first turn to host. The memory that your father was no longer with you hurt a lot. But he had prepared you well to succeed him as leader, and that was what counted now.

You surveyed the table setting, it looked perfect. Shiny dishes, bright white linen napkins, floral decoration and two antique candelabras. Yes, you were satisfied. You went to the kitchen and discussed a few final details with the cook and the maids. The meal was to begin around 8:15, 15 minutes after your guests arrived.

Curtis Everett, Andy Barber and Ransom Drysdale. The leaders of 3 of the 4 gangs on the East Coast. The fourth was you. Compared to these men, you were younger and less experienced and after you took over, it was Andy who tried to infiltrate your territory. His attempt failed miserably and you had proven your worth and strength from the start.

That's just the way it went. The world of criminals was like a shark tank. If you couldn't hold your ground, you were eaten.

This annual meeting was not among friends. It was held out of pure decency. One civilized dinner a year was apparently enough to block out all the dirty business and rivalries. At least for a while.

Lewis, your head of security, approached you as you were getting yourself ready. "Are you prepared for tonight," he asked in a caring voice. Lewis had known you since you were born and had worked for your father before that.

"I was born ready," you replied with a grin. "The routine for tonight is clear? You'll retreat with our men as soon as the guests arrive." That was part of the evening's rules, too. Your villa wasn't exactly neutral ground, after all, and no one present was supposed to feel threatened. Therefore, all security men had to leave the premises, and only the house staff was allowed. In addition, firearms were forbidden.

"You know I don't feel good about leaving you here alone with those rude jerks," Lewis sighed.

"I appreciate your concern, I'll be fine. I've already been through two of these meetings and the boys will know how to behave. I'm going to go change now. We should schedule a meeting tomorrow around 10 and talk about possible new developments. I want you to let everyone know." Lewis nodded respectfully and wished you good luck.

Once in your room, you entered the walk-in closet and picked out a dress. Normally you wore business clothes for work in the technology company, which served as a cover for the less legal business. But tonight, there was nothing to stop you from dressing up a bit.

Your choice fell on a long black evening dress. The top was tight, from the waist fell a soft, thin skirt and a leg slit rounded off the dress. It fitted perfectly and if you were going to be permanently under tension this evening, you at least wanted to look you good.

You styled your hair into a deep knot, put on diamond earrings, and did your makeup modestly.

Finally, there was something that no one should see. You attached a small handgun including a holster to your thigh and draped the skirt over it again. A little extra security should something go wrong. Yes, it was in violation of the rules, but you knew you should never underestimate the other men and no one would notice.

You slipped into your pumps and dared one last look in the mirror. You were ready.

As you descended the stairs, careful not to trip but still looking elegant, the three men entered the foyer of your mansion.

Andy regarded Lewis with hostility as he checked them for weapons. "Is this really necessary?" he asked, clenching his jaw as he fastened the buttons of his blue suit jacket again.

"Get over yourself, Barber. She's just making sure the rules are followed." Curtis interjected, running a hand over his short hair. With his black suit, there was something of James Bond about him. Curtis was no stranger to this business, but he respected you and your position.

No further explanation was needed and you shook hands with them both before walking over to Ransom Drysdale.

Unlike the other two, he had opted for an outfit that was probably a bit flashier. A light gray perfectly tailored three-piece suit.

You extended your hand to him as well in greeting, but you were surprised when he took your hand and placed a gentle kiss on it. "Good evening, darling." He whispered, so that the other two couldn't possibly have overheard. And before that changed, you quickly withdrew your hand.

Ransom had always been a bit flirty towards you, but you had always given them all the cold shoulder. And it was better that way. "Gentlemen, if you'll follow me, please." With a nod, you dismissed Lewis.

Together you entered the terrace. The long table you had set up would have had room for 10 people, but you were happy to leave some distance between you and the not exactly harmless men.

"I've got to hand it to you, you may be a bit of a pain in the ass when it comes to business. But you can definitely host an event," Andy noted.

You knew you could take that insult seriously. Andy Barber didn't like you and he never missed an opportunity to make you feel it. First because you were young and second because you were a woman. The first, in fact, to lead a mob.

Besides, he was still resentful that you had outsmarted him rather cleverly 2 years ago when he wanted to expand his power territory.

"What can I say, I have an eye for style, decoration...and blocking out competition." Curtis and Ransom couldn't contain their laughter. That side swipe at Andy had hit home. "And now I'd like to stop talking about business."

At a sign from you, dinner and matching wine were served. The dinner proceeded peacefully and only trivial topics were discussed.

No one present dared to divulge critical details. Income streams, problems with the judiciary or planned trips abroad. You could have used all this to your own advantage. As your father used to say: Keep your friends close and your enemies even closer.

However, it did not escape your notice that Ransom did not take his eyes off you the whole time. You tried to distract yourself and started a conversation with Curtis about automobiles. Even though you weren't looking at him, you knew Ransom Drysdale was still staring at you. In a sinister way.

Later in the evening you settled down in the seating area by the pool. You had scotch and for the men additionally cigars brought. You told the housekeeper that the staff was allowed to finish their work and go home.

The alcohol burned in your throat and your eyelids grew heavy. "Soon you'll have it made," you said to yourself. You looked out over the surface of the water, which was only gently moving with the wind.

The skirt of your dress tightened as you leaned back in the chair and stretched out your tired legs, causing your gun in the thigh holster to poke through the fabric.

Another person noticed this as well. Ransom grinned at you diabolically. Quickly you crossed your leg and adjusted your skirt. If he exposed you now, it could start a war. Men had already killed for less. Your breathing quickened and you felt hot.

But Ransom remained silent.

He said nothing.

Nothing at all.

He just sat there grinning and pulling on his cigar. You really wanted to slap that smug smile off his face.

The reflected light from the torches sparkled in his eyes. Curtis addressed him, breaking the awkward stare between the two of you. "You're so silent today, Drysdale. Are you already planning your next coup?" "No, I'm just enjoying the impressive view." His voice had an ambiguous undertone. He let his gaze sweep over the mansion and garden before settling back on you.

"Gentlemen, I think we should call it a night," you decided quickly.

You rose from your seat and the men did the same. Curtis and Andy went ahead, Ransom and you followed.

As you took the stairs back up to the house, Ransom placed his hand guidingly on your lower back. "If you want to keep your hand, I advise you to take it away from there, buddy," you whispered in a threatening voice.

In response, Ransom really did take his hand back. You said goodbye to your guests and locked the door behind them. That was close. Too close, actually.

Why hadn't Ransom said anything, even though he had seen your gun in a clear view? But that was no longer relevant. You had finished the evening and could finally go to sleep.

Arriving in your bedroom, you kicked your shoes off your feet, unzipped your dress and dropped it carelessly on the floor. You took off your gun holster and threw it into the armchair that stood in the corner.

A shower, that's what you needed now. The hot water splashed down on your tense shoulders.

Your thoughts kept wandering to Ransom, his warm gaze on you and to how the suit hugged his perfect body. "Put him out of your mind," you admonished yourself. Nothing was ever allowed to happen between you. Even a fleeting affair could be seen as an alliance by Curtis or Andy and cause a lot of trouble.

After you were done, you got out of the shower and dried off. You applied a rose body cream to your skin and put on a silk robe.

 You were crossing the bedroom on your way to the walk-in closet when a voice made you wince.

"Cute outfit, Honey."

Startled, you whirled around. Hugh Ransom Drysdale. He was sitting in the armchair, fiddling with the gun holster you'd put there.

"What the hell are you doing here? How did you get in here?" you wanted to know angrily.

Ransom took the gun out of the holster and pointed it at you playfully. "Darling, I know a thousand ways to break into other people's houses unnoticed. Nice plaything, by the way. It suits you. But in doing so, you've broken the most important rule of the evening."

You weren't really listening to him, your eyes wandered over to the dressing room. In one of the drawers lay a loaded and unlocked pistol. Could you reach it quickly enough? It was a useless waste of time to calculate your chances, so you sprinted.

Ransom, however, was faster. He jumped up from the chair like a predator, caught you by the wrist and threw you onto the bed. Before you could react, he was on top of you, pinning your wrists to the mattress.

"Curtis and Andrew may not have noticed your little gun, but I did." His eyes were cold as ice. "I don't like being lied to, and I certainly don't like being fucked with. The rules for this particular evening exist for good reasons. Established long before you were even born. So don't think a little girl can just break them with impunity."

"Get off me." You hissed out between clenched teeth. Ransom smiled smugly, bent down to your face and shook his head.

Anger boiled up inside you. With a flourish you headbutted him, Ransom groaned and let go of your wrists for a moment. You kicked his chest with both feet and used the momentum to roll off the bed.

You were fast, but Ransom was faster. Again.

He caught you and pressed your back against the wall. "I have to say, you really are a nimble bitch. But my patience is wearing thin." His gaze dropped lower.

The struggle caused the fabric belt of your robe to loosen and your breasts were almost exposed.

"I've waited a long time for this, sweetheart. And you have now delivered me the perfect opportunity to get what I've wanted for so long. Even when you were still standing in the second row, I knew that you would become someone special. And fuck, I was not wrong "

You were paralyzed. The man who was just towering in front of you was dangerous, very much so. Still, you felt yourself getting wet in the crotch. On the one hand it was the thrill of the dangerous situation that turned you on, and on the other hand you couldn't deny what an attractive man Ransom was.

 He cupped your face in both hands and pulled you close to him to kiss you. He was both possessive and passionate. His tongue conquered your mouth and you felt his cock harden and press against your hips.

Your knees became shaky and before they gave way, Ransom lifted you up and carried you to the bed without breaking the kiss. Gently he put you down and began to undress himself.

Quickly you got rid of your robe. You hadn't had sex in ages. Work left no time for dating and if you let someone into your bedroom, you had to be sure that person was trustworthy and would take a bullet for you if necessary. Ransom certainly wasn't that kind of person, but to hell with your principles.

Your traitorous body needed him, here and now between your legs. Ransom was now naked as well, his defined muscles clearly visible despite the sparse lighting in the room.

"You're going to be a good girl now, aren't you?"

As if mesmerized, you nodded. Ransom brushed his perfect hair out of his face and lowered his mouth to the junction at your thighs.

You drew in your breath sharply as Ransom began to lick your lovebud. His teasing was simply too much for your soft and sensitive parts and when you tried to close your thighs, Ransom pushed them apart again and fixed them with his strong arms.

"You don't know how long I've been waiting to taste you. You're not going to take that pleasure away from me now."

He resumed his activity and additionally took two fingers to help him penetrate you. "Oh God, you're wet and tight. I knew from the start that it would be worth the wait, sweetie."

 You couldn't believe what was happening. The pleasure overwhelmed you and made you moan, which only seemed to encourage Ransom even more. He sucked on you like a man dying of thirst.

Your hand grabbed his hair and you pulled him closer to you. A growl left Ransom's throat. Your orgasm announced itself, through your louder moans and your pelvic muscles that began to contract.

But suddenly he stopped in mid-motion and crawled back up to you.

"Now listen to me very carefully. Before I even think about letting you come, I want you to first politely apologize for your little toy weapon and then ask permission to come."

He was so close you could see your eyes reflected in his.

"Eat. Shit. Drysdale," you said in a saccharine voice. He could kiss that demand goodbye. You couldn't help how your body reacted to him, but you wouldn't give him the satisfaction and beg.

Ransom's smile froze and his hand shot out and closed around your throat.

"Do you really think you have any say here! Darling, we may be in your villa, in your bed, but the control here... is mine," Ransom pressed out.

The grip around your neck loosened a bit, but Ransom had no intention of giving up. His other hand wandered down your body, his fingers danced over your body and he placed many small tender kisses under your ear. He rubbed his thumb vigorously over your most sensitive spot.

"You know, I'm going to take what I want tonight either way. But come on, I can give you what you need so badly, make it pleasurable for you too and all you have to do is tell me what I want to hear from you," he murmured to you, nibbling on your earlobe.

You gasped and clung to Ransom's shoulders. The limit had been reached, you would surely die of a heart attack if he kept teasing you like this. You squinted your eyes and swallowed your pride. "I'm sorry and p-please fuck me." Ransom clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "That was already very nice, sweetie, but I want you to look me in the eye." What a lousy asshole.

If looks could kill, you would have just murdered Ransom multiple times. You repeated your sentence and put as much dislike as possible in your gaze. He stroked your cheek with his knuckle and smiled at you.

"Good girl."

He kissed you demandingly as he thrust his cock into your wet hole, stifling the moan that inevitably came from your throat. He fit into you perfectly, like two puzzle pieces together.

Your toes curled as Ransom thrust against your G-spot over and over again.

"Look at you, stretched out and trembling."

You matched his rhythm, encircling his pelvis with your legs and pressing him closer to you. God, this man was like pure adrenaline. His cock swelled inside you and you felt him stretching you further.

He took one of your breasts, squeezed it and licked over your nipple. He repeated the same with the other breast.What a sweet torture. The whole thing only made you wetter.

You knew it was only a matter of time before you both sent each other to nirvana.

“Once I have put my seed in you, you will be mine. Only mine.”

Although you heard the words, the meaning no longer reached your brain. It only gave you the feeling of Ransom's cock deep inside you.

One last time, Ransom increased the tempo and intensity of his thumb on your clit, causing your muscles to contract and you to moan loudly as you came to orgasm.

Your fingers clawed at his back and you held him tightly, as if you were afraid to fall deep should he let go of you. You drifted close to unconsciousness, drunk with pleasure.

Ransom also reached his goal and came growling inside you, filling your cunt with his juices. After a few last thrusts he collapsed on top of you and you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

You could not speak.

It felt like you had been hit by a bus. Twice.

Ransom's soft voice reached your ear before you slipped into a deep sleep. "We will start a new dynasty and once you give us an heir, no one will dare to oppose us."

[egcdeath]

act natural

pairing: steve rogers x reader

summary: sometimes, you just have to share the bed. 

word count: 2.4k

warnings: fluff, sharing a bed, idiots in love, cheesy

a/n: this is really just an excuse for me to write a lot of self indulgent bants, but it’s also a part of @stargazingfangirl18’s soft!dark challenge, and i decided to write something soft and use the prompt of only having one bed! (p.s. i like did not edit this at all so if a few words are used a lot pls forgive me) 

Dinner at the safehouse was finally wrapping up after a long day of getting your ass beat by an angry android and a few enhanced teenagers. You and everyone else around you seemed to be more than exhausted from the extensive day of revisiting deeply repressed traumas, and petty arguments between teammates over who was truly at fault for every predicament you found yourselves in.

You took a long and final swig from a beer bottle, glancing up to Bruce and Nat as they stood up and pushed in their chairs, retiring for the night. 

“Thanks for hosting us, Laura,” Natasha offered, grabbing her plate from the dinner table, and dropping it off in the dishwasher.

“Of course, guys. Any time,” she gave a half smile to her friend, then looked back at the table, where everyone else had taken the memo, and found themselves somewhere in the process of leaving the table, or grabbing their dishes, “but before you all go, I wanted to warn you that someone else is gonna have to share a room tonight.”

You glanced over at Steve, who was on your left, and Tony, who was sat at the head of the table. You and Steve shared an awkward chuckle at the thought of being in the same bed, not even considering the similarly uncomfortable situation of sharing a bed with Tony. 

“I think I’ll be rooming alone. These two lovebirds can share,” Tony chided before either of you even had a chance to think of a response. You looked back over at Steve, whose cheeks were currently dusted with a light shade of pink, and the bigger man quickly looked away from you.

“Tony, you know we are not- you know what, nevermind,” you huffed, deciding the argument was not worth it. 

Tony shook his head as he dropped his dishes off in the dishwasher. “So no objections?” he asked teasingly, eyeing you both with a smirk on his way back from the kitchen. “Why am I not surprised?” You could’ve sworn you heard Clint and Fury laughing to themselves before excusing themselves from the table, and dispursting though the house.

Besides the slight humiliation of being teased for your situation, you weren’t too concerned about the act of spending the night, or next few nights with Steve. You and Steve were friends, or something like that. Just a few pals with crushes that you refused to admit to each other (or yourselves).

Pushing this thought aside, you grabbed the neck of your empty beer bottle, along with a few pieces of silverware and marched off to the mechanical cleaner yourself. You dropped off the things that needed to be cleaned, tossed your bottle in the recycling bin, then went to turn away when Steve grabbed your arm, automatically catching your attention. 

“Is this okay with you?” He asked, letting his vice grip on your arm go.

“It’s fine. I’ll see you upstairs,” you muttered before speeding off, and heading upstairs where you strolled into the only vacant room, with the door wide open, and both your own and Steve’s duffle bags on the floor. 

You made a mental note to thank whoever brought them in (probably Laura), and dug through your bag to find something even slightly comfortable to sleep in, eventually settling on an oversized shirt and your favorite cotton shorts. 

You had just barely finished changing in the tiny closet when you heard the soft click of the room door, notifying you of Steve’s arrival. You slid open the closet door, and made a beeline for the bed, flopping onto the left side, and reaching for your phone as a distraction. 

“Do you want me to sleep on the floor?” Steve asked, searching through his own bag until he found the only clean comfortable pair of pants he had in there, that just happened to be a jokey Christmas gift donned with a red white and blue color scheme, and graphics of mini shields on it.  

“What the hell, Steve. Of course not,” you set your phone down so that you could get a better look at him. “We probably have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.” You could live with that excuse, especially considering that it would not be very becoming of you to tell your crush that missing an opportunity to sleep in the same bed as him feels like a federal crime. 

He stood up from his squatting position, squeezing into the tight space of the closet so that he could change into the corny pants, and finally get out of his clothes from the day, “I just didn’t want to make things weird.”

“Well, they won’t be as long as you stay on your side, okay?” You said petulantly, setting two pillows across the middle of the queen sized bed and attempting to ignore the excited butterflies in your stomach. 

“I will,” Steve responded, exiting the closet slipping into the right side of the bed cautiously, and looking at the wall that was facing him.

You glanced over at Steve, and when you caught wind of his shirtless torso, you couldn’t help but to look away with a warm face,“this is so awkward now,” you said after a beat. “Why couldn’t you have roomed with Tony?”

“Tony is the worst bed mate ever. Total blanket and pillow hog,” Steve chuckled, attempting to ease up some of the tension.

“You’re no saint either. I’ve heard you’re a cuddler,” you bantered back, allowing yourself one more glance at the man. Steve seemed to be having the same thought as you at the same time as you, as your eyes briefly met. 

It was uncomfortably silent in the room once more, and you reached over to your nightstand to turn off the bedside lamp, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Night, Steve,” you turned your back to the border of pillows, fell into a fetal position, and squeezed your eyes shut, hoping that you’d be able to find some sort of peace after such a bizarre day. You tried not to dwell so much on the horrors you’d been forced to face earlier, and instead relied on the rhythmic breathing coming from the man next to you to ground you.

----

You weren’t sure when exactly you fell asleep, but a jolting of your bed, and a bit of a commotion coming from somewhere in your room pulled you away from your unsettling dreams.

Blinking yourself awake, you uncurled your body, and rolled over to look at Steve, whose legs were thrown over the edge of the bed while he panted heavily.

“Steve?” you slurred sleepily, “you ‘kay?”

“’m fine,” he yawned.

“Well you woke me up,” you mumbled, throwing your head back against a pillow.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I was having a shitty dream anyway.”

“Really? I was too,” Steve refused to look at you, staring blankly at the wall.

“So tell me about it,” you hummed.

“It’s just… I keep thinking about how I missed out on so many things from the past. I could’ve been happy, living out my days in a semi-peaceful and familiar world. Not anything like this.”

You sat up as you listened, pushing aside a pillow from the border you’d constructed to move closer to Steve and set a reassuring hand on his back.

“I guess I just wish that I was there. With everyone and everything I used to know.”

“But it’s not all bad, right?” you offered, and Steve shrugged before looking down. 

 “I’m sorry. I really am. I know that I’ll never truly understand that, but there’s nothing any of us can do about it now. You’re here now, and you have no other choice but to make the best of it. I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but if you spend all of your time in the present lamenting about what things could’ve been in the past, you’re just gonna be miserable forever,” you rambled sleepily, words slurring occasionally. 

“Your experience is so unique, so I could be getting this all wrong, but there are plenty of good things here in the now. I mean, a world without the internet? I don’t know if that’s a world worth living in,” you chuckled softly, and were joined in your quiet laughter by the man on the other side of your bed.

“Seriously, though. I know you can’t control your dreams, but maybe your subconscious is letting you know that it’s okay to let go. Of like, the past. It might just be time for you to move on and be happy. I’m sure that Peggy and everyone else from your past would’ve wanted that for you too.” In the dark, you saw the silhouette of Steve’s head nodding. 

“You always know what to say, huh?” he asked, kicking his legs back over onto the bed while you scooted back over into your previous space. 

“I’m like half asleep right now, Steve. If you asked me to repeat half of what I just said, I would not know what to say,” you giggled. 

“You wanna talk about your dream?” Steve asked in a concerned tone. 

“Mmm, I actually just wanna go to sleep. As crazy as that may sound,” 

“Is there anything that I can do to help you not have another bad one?”

“Hmmm,” you pondered, becoming a bit more lethargic by the moment. “Spoon me?”

“As you wish,” Steve happily obliged, grabbing one of the pillows from the middle of the bed and adding it to his stash of pillows. 

You threw a pillow from the border between your knees, and received a strange look from Steve. “What? I heard it’s good for your back.” He still didn’t seem convinced. “Stop being so judgy and cuddle me already,” you murmured, turning your body so that you could lay on your side.

Steve scooted closer to you, and you pressed your back to the front of his chest. He tossed an arm over you and somehow managed to pull you even closer to him. You swore you hadn’t been this comfortable since you left the womb, and you nearly purred in response. 

“Can I make a request?” he asked.

You simply nodded.

“Can we just… talk until we fall back asleep?” 

“That’s really cute,” you mumbled into your pillow. 

“You just have a relaxing voice!” he defended playfully.

“You are such a dork,” you giggled. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Just tell me about… I dunno, anything.”

“That was so helpful, Steven.”

“My bad. Tell me about your favorite… mission?”

“Mm, probably that one time you and I had to go undercover for like a month to bust that arms dealer.”

“Which one?”

“Some dude in the Midwest. Can’t remember his name.”

“Oh yeah, yeah I know who you’re talking about.”

“It was fun being your life partner for a month. We were really good at being domestic.”

“Hmm, now that I think about it, we really were. Do you remember that cookout?”

“Of course I do,” you laughed at the memory. “Everyone else was getting so drunk, but you just… couldn’t. They were like Joseph, you’re such a beast, and shit. And who would’ve guessed that you, the old timer would be such a beast on the grill.”

“Well, who would’ve guessed that you were so good at cornhole?”

“Was I really that good? Or were you just really bad? Like really bad, especially for someone whose skill set revolves around having good aim,” you teased.

Steve scoffed and laughed, shaking his head at you. 

“How didn’t those people recognize us? I just don’t get it.”

“You’d be surprised how much a beard and dyed hair can change your look.”

“I guess,” you sighed softly, and set a hand on top of Steve’s. “Does this feel counterproductive to you? We’re just sitting here giggling. We’re probably getting less tired.”

“I guess I am less tired. But I’m also not thinking about the impending robot apocalypse.”

“Well now that you brought it up, I’m thinking about the impending robot apocalypse. You better fix this, Rogers.” Emboldened by what must’ve been the butterflies in your stomach falling asleep, you began to roll a bit in his arms so you were facing each other, kicking away the pillow between your legs in the process. 

“How can I make it up to you?” Steve asked, raising a brow.

“You’re the man with a plan, right? Think of something,” your lip quirked slightly in a smirk.

Steve leaned in just the smallest amount, before a lightbulb seemed to go off in his head. “I got it. We can do one of those one word stories until we fall asleep.”

Well, that’s not exactly how you thought this moment was going to go. 

“Okay, I’ll start then,” you nodded, pressing your head down against a soft pillow, and looking up at Steve, “once.”

“There,” Steve added.

“Was.”

“A.”

“Death-bot,” you giggled. 

“Okay, Y/N. No. No more stories. We can just listen to each other breathe now until we fall asleep like before since you wanna ruin the mood.”

“What mood? And you listened to me breathe?”

“What else was I gonna listen to?” he furrowed his brows, “it’s too late for this anyway. We can talk in the morning.”

“All you had to do was tell me that it’s way past your bedtime, and I would be understanding. But goodnight anyway, Stevie,” you cracked him one last smile, not budging from your position as you closed your eyes. 

It was silent for a few minutes before Steve whispered up out of the blue, “you still awake?”

You slurred something into the pillow, much more asleep than awake. 

“Well, I really like you a lot. Maybe one day I’ll get the guts to tell you that when you’re not completely out of it.”

You grunted as a response, and Steve couldn’t seem to wipe the grin off his face, not while he was falling asleep, and certainly not during his rather pleasant dreams.

——

You just couldn’t seem to catch a break with your wake up calls. While you and Steve seemed to sleep through the rapping against the door, and the door itself opening, you both seemed to become aware after the artificial shutter of an iPhone camera flooded through your ears.

“You guys just looked so cute, I wanted to archive this moment for the rest of time. And I’m sure the team will be glad to see that you got along well last night,” Nat teased as your eyes widened and you shot up. “Breakfast is ready downstairs, by the way.”

Well, you two were going to have a great time explaining this one.