#DARK AVENGERS AU

[mdemontespan1667]

THE TROUBLE WITH COYOTES

DARK STEVE (AU) X READER

YOU HAVE CAR TROUBLE AND IT'S STEVE TO THE RESCUE, OR NOT. (I SUCK AT SUMMARIES LOL)

WARNINGS: NON-CON, NON-CON, NON-CON/VAGINAL SEX/VAGINAL PENETRATION BY A FOREIGN OBJECT/MEAN STEVE/ASSHOLE STEVE/ORAL SEX (MALE RECEIVING)/ANAL SEX/SLAPPING/CHOKING/USE OF THE WORD RAPE/SPIT(LUBRICATION PURPOSE ONLY)/CAR SEX/CHEATING/BREEDING KINK/DEGRADATION/BLACKMAIL/REVENGE PORN(?)/NON-CON

AS ALWAYS THIS IS STRICTLY 18 + ONLY

I HAVE TO GIVE YOU A HUGE THANK YOU TO @caffiend-queen. WITHOUT THEIR ADVICE, COMMENTS, SUGGESTIONS, ADVICE, ENCOURAGEMENT AND JUST OVERALL BEING AN ABSOUTELY FANTASTIC FRIEND I PROBABLY WOULDN'T BE WRITING ANYTHING. WORDS CAN'T EXPRESS HOW MUCH I APPRECIATE YOU TAKING TIME TO DEAL WITH MY CRAP.

“Car trouble?”

“Uh”

Your first instinct was to lie but looking around there really was no other plausible explanation for you to be stopped, in the dark, on the side of barely two lane gravel road.

For the millionth time you wondered why the fuck Betsy had decided to get engaged and move to the middle of Fucking Nowhere Kansas.

She’d blamed it on “Country Boy Dick” which must have been damned impressive to make her give up Neiman’s and the Smithsonian. 

“Hello.”

“Oh, uh, sorry. Yeah, I guess so.”

The stranger pulled ahead of your car, executed a perfect three point turn and parked facing your dead vehicle. 

“What happened?”

“I have no idea. It started making a weird noise and then it just stopped.”

Your words trailed off as you got a good look at the driver. 

He was tall, hair buzzed, dark stubble covering his face. 

A grimy, yet somehow still clean, tank top that revealed nicely defined abs, peeked out from under a rugged brown leather jacket. 

Battered jeans, that had no business being that snug on his crotch and thighs, completed the ensemble.  

Goddamn. 

“Country Boy Dick” didn’t seem like such a lame excuse anymore. 

“Hey, Hello?”

“Sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked if you could pop the hood for me.”

A lazy, knowing smile formed on his lips. 

Mortified at being caught gawking, you opened the driver’s side door.

Peering in you looked for something that might “pop the hood” whatever the hell that was. 

“You aren’t from around here are you.”

Whirling around, you found him standing right behind you, your bodies almost touching. 

You scooted down car, a tiny warning bell tinkling in your head. 

“Oh, hey.”

He raised his hands up.

“Didn’t mean to scare you. My name’s Steve.”

Reaching under the dash of your car he pressed a button.

He strode to the hood, lifting it up. 

“What’s your name?”

“Uh, it’s Meredith.”

No way in hell were you giving a complete stranger your real name, smoking hot or not. 

“Well, Meredith,” by the way he emphasized your name you knew he knew you had lied, “your timing belt snapped off.”

“Fucking great.”

You kicked the back tire. 

“Ok, thanks for trying Scott. I’ll call Triple A.”

“It’s Steve.”

“Excuse me?”

“Steve. It’s my name Meredith.”

A tiny bit creeped out, you faked a smile.

“Sorry Steve. I suck at remembering names. I’m just gonna call Triple A and…”

“I hate to tell you but the only tow truck for miles is owned by Jake Plessy. And seeing how it’s Friday night I imagine he’s sitting at Rooster’s at least half a bottle in of Jim Beam. You’ll be lucky if he can find his rig before morning.”

“Ok, so, well I’ll call 911.”

Steve laughed.

“What’s so funny?”

You were in no mood for this bullshit. 

“Sorry, it’s not funny, but Sheriff Wison is probably sitting right next to Plessy. You might get lucky and catch a State Trooper on patrol, otherwise their closest substation is over an hour away. Or…”

“Or what.”

“Or you could let me give you a ride into town.”

“I think I’ll wait for the police. I mean, I appreciate the offer, uh, Steve, I really do but it’s a rental and I don’t want to just leave it.”

Steve let the hood drop with a bang. 

You jumped, flinching at the sound. 

“Suit yourself. Make sure you stay in your car. Lot’s of coyotes out on a night like this.”

“Coyotes?”

Right on que a howl drifted across the air. 

“Yeah, but don’t worry. They’re more scared of you than you are of them. Normally.”

“Normally?”

Your voice squeaked. 

“It’s been a bad summer. They like to pick off the weak. But you should be fine. Have a good night.”

Steve opened his car door. 

Looking around you noticed just how absolutely alone you were out here, in the dark. 

“Uh, wait. I’ll uh, I’ll take that ride. 

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

It’s alright if you love me

It’s alright if you don’t

I’m not afraid of you runnin away honey

I get the feeling you won’t

Say there ain’t no use in pretending

Your eyes give you away

Something inside you is feeling like I do

We said all there is to say

Baby

Breakdown, go ahead and give it to me

Breakdown, honey, take me through the night. 

The music spilling from the speakers coupled with the steady motion of Steve’s car had almost lulled you to sleep.

Vaguely you wondered why he had turned off the main road thirty minutes or so ago. 

You were almost certain Betsy's directions had you staying straight after turning off the highway. 

Looking back out the passenger window you watched the flat land pass by. 

It was almost hypnotic with nothing to break the view. 

Your eyes started to droop shut.

The sudden stop locked your seatbelt, pitching you forward.

“What the hell?”

Steve was facing you, the dashboard lights bathing him in a satanic-esque glow.

“What’s going on, is everything ok?”

“That,” his hand massaged a noticeable bulge under his zipper, “depends on you.”

“Excuse me?”

“Big city girl never heard of put out or get out?”

He unzipped his jeans, lifting his hips to free his cock. 

You inhaled sharply at the sight of the large appendage, crimson tinted head shiny with pre-cum.

“You putting out or getting out sweetheart? Town’s a good 20 miles North of here.

You stared out the windshield.

The moon was a pale sliver illuminating nothing. 

“Fine,” you huffed, bending towards him.

“Hey.”

“Wha…”

SMACK

Steve slapped you.

“No teeth. You understand.”

“Yeah…I… Yeah, I understand,” you stammered.

“Then get to it.”

Leaning down, you took a tentative lick.

Determined to get it over quickly, you attacked his cock, head bobbing, cheeks hollowed, hand twisting at the base.

Steve gripped the back of your head pressing you down.

You gagged around him, hands beating his chest.

He pulled you up only to force you down again, repeating until you caught his rhythm, doing your best to take all of him, adding a swirl on each upstroke.

You prepared yourself to swallow, instead he shoved you away.

“Strip.”

“Nuh Uh. No fucking way. I’ll give you a blowjob but that’s…..”

He held up his phone.

A video of you between his legs flared on the screen.

“Poor Betsy. Imagine how hurt she’ll be when she sees her best friend slobbering all over her future husband’s knob.”

Your eyes grew wide.

“How did you..No..no..this isn’t happening. She wouldn’t…”

Steve lurched across the seats, pinning you by the throat to the passenger door, head hitting the window.

“Yeah she would. She believes every word I say. I walk on water as far as that dumb bitch is concerned,” he sneered, “Good thing her mom’s loaded huh? Otherwise I wouldn’t be able to stand her.”

You batted at his arm.

“Let me go you son of a…….”

He tightened his grip.

“Or how about I send this to that hot shot Senator you work for? How long do you think it’d take Mr Family Values to fire your skanky ass?”

Eyes now the shape of saucers you croaked, “How do you know…”

“SHUT UP!,” he bellowed in your face, spittle flying.

“I know because Betsy never shuts the fuck up either. Your big career, your fancy apartment, all the parties you took her to. All I ever hear about is you.”

Steve scowled, pure hate emanating from his voice.

“But she’s mine now. It’ll suck when she finds out you seduced me, I mean I couldn’t keep you off my dick, practically raped me.”

“Or,” he leaned in, “We could have a little fun and no one would have to know.”

He caressed your cheek.

“Yes or no, I ain’t got all night.”

Too stunned to speak, you nodded your head.

“Good girl.”

Settling back in the driver’s seat, he gazed at you expectantly.

Shaking, you removed the knee high leopard print boots, black leggings and oversized black Cashmere sweater, leaving on the pink, lace edged balconette bra and matching thong.

Steve raised his eyebrows in a show of impatience.  

WIth a defeated sigh, you finished undressing.

You shivered even though the engine was still running, heat pouring from the vents.

Sliding closer, he pawed at your tits, one hand dropping to your apex.

His touch was crude, rough, devoid of any finesse. 

He shoved two fingers in your dry channel.

You gritted your teeth.

His mouth descended to your chest, laving and biting the nipples.

Graciously, your body provided some lubrication, Steve’s fingers finding less resistance.

By pure chance his thumb brushed your clit, stomach instinctively contracting.

Like a kid with a new found toy, Steve played with your nub, his harsh touch firing your senses.

You squirmed, embarrassed, his attention firmly on the bundle of nerves. 

He rubbed faster, callused fingers contrasting with the smoother skin.

Heat built, a sure sign of an impending orgasm. 

Horrified at your body’s betrayal, you fought to keep it at bay.

It was a losing battle.

The orgasm washed over you in soft waves, a small moan escaping your locked jaw.

Furious at your internal treason, you elbowed him away.

“Sit down,” you hissed, obviously intending to ride him.

“Not yet. I’ve got a better idea.”

Steve gestured to the hard, plastic shifter. 

You recoiled, revolted at the thought.

“Are you insane? I’m not doing that, no fucking way.”

“Fine.”

He snatched your clothes, tossing them from the car.

“Start walking. By the time you make it to town everyone will know what a whore you are.”

The slump of your shoulders signaled your surrender.

“I don’t…” you fought back tears, “I ..how do I..”

Steve spit on the handle.

“Figure it out before I get bored and leave you here anyway.”

Softly crying, you positioned a knee on each bucket seat, arms braced on the dashboard.

Oh so carefully you descended, unable to stifle a whimper of pain.

He palmed his cock, licking his lips.

“Go on, I wanna see you ride it.”

You bounced haltingly, hyperaware not to take the object too deep.

Steve stomped on the gas pedal, the revving engine vibrating the shifter, sending sparks shooting from your core. 

Shame burned bright with the fresh slick that coated the plastic.

“Holy shit,” Steve muttered, voice low with lust.

He slid a hand between your legs, circling your clit causing you to gasp at the duel sensations. 

“Dirty slut. You’re getting off on this.”

You shook your head, silently pleading with your deceitful body.

Unfortunately, it had other plans.

Muscles tensed as you came again, stronger than the last, Steve supporting you as you shook with tremors.

Your humiliated bliss was short lived. 

“Move.”

Hesitation earned you another slap.

Extricating yourself, he opened the driver’s door, dragging you with him. 

Turning you around, Steve shoved your face down, leaving your lower half exposed, legs straight, ass in the air, gravel cutting the soles of your bare feet.

You stifled a scream as buried his cock in one brutal shove, stretching your walls to their limit. 

He clutched your hips, holding you steady.

“Fucking hell, I didn’t think your pussy’d be so tight.”

“Just,” you hiccuped, “Just hurry up.”

Instantly he changed pace. 

He leisurely slid back and forth, bumping your g-spot.

“Maybe I’ll cum inside you,” he mused.

“No, God no,” you blubbered, “Don’t..don’t do that.”

You reared up, trying to escape but Steve held you in place, your struggles egging him on.

“Been trying to knock Betsy up for a few months, insurance policy so’s she don’t leave.”

Tears streaming, you begged, “Don’t do this…I’m not on anything.”

“I bet you’d be cute, all fat, tits swelled up.”

“Please, please, please,” you sobbed, “Please don’t.”

The head of his cock nudged your puckered hole.

This time you couldn’t contain the scream.

Snot and tears mingled on your face.

“Poor baby, I thought you’d like taking a dick in the ass.”

He thrusted deeper, gaining enjoyment from your pain.

“Ass or cunt? Your choice. Either way I’m blowing a load in you.”

Picking the lesser of two evils you whispered.

“Ass.”

“Good choice.”

Forcing your body to relax, you swept a finger across your still sensitive nub, praying for a distraction. 

“Piece of friendly advice Sweetheart.”

He punctuated the words with the snap of his hips. 

“Don’t leave your car alone at strange gas stations.”

You wanted to rage at his revelation, howl at the moon for this cruel twist.

Steve fucked you mercilessly, bruises forming on your hip and ass.

You lashed at your clit, shutting out everything  but the blooming pleasure.

Unbidden, your hips rocked to meet his body, caught in spasms as you came.

He followed, hips pumping erratically, rope after rope of warm, sticky cum coating your insides. 

Sated, he withdrew, buckling his jeans, tossing your clothes at your feet.

You dressed, shuddering both from the cold and his assault, folding yourself gingerly back in the passenger seat. 

“Check this out,”

You glanced over, eyes dull from crying.

Your mouth dropped open.

Another video, this time of you riding the shifter to orgasm, displayed.

“You fucking asshole,” you shrieked, pummeling him with your fists, “You said…”

“I didn’t say shit,” he smirked again, holding the phone just out of your reach, “It’s a  little extra motivation to keep your trap shut. I mean who knows, I might wanna get my dick wet again before you leave.”

You dove for the phone, managing to bite his wrist, drawing blood.

“Fucking cunt!”

He dropped the phone, wrapping both hands around your throat.

“I own you bitch! You hear me! I’ll post this on PornHub. You won’t be so high and mighty then will you!”

The fight left with each denied breath, until you laid still, tears once more flowing down your face.

Steve let go, straightened his jacket, popping the car in gear.

He sped off, humming along to the radio.

Curling into a ball, you stared blankly out the window, wishing in vain you’d taken your chance with the coyotes. 

Breakdown/Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers/1976

@fanfic-fangirl @mcudarklibrary @caffiend-queen @alexakeyloveloki @americasass81 @lokislastlove @sweeterthanthis @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @ironlady1993 @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @nildespirandum @jennmurawski13 @starynighty @sapphirescrolls @momc95 @sagechanoafterdark @jtargaryen18 @demonsandpieohmy @cockslutpadalecki @dangertoozmanykids101 @lizzystuffsthings @shikin83 @km-ffluv

@sinceimetyou @buckybarnesandmarvel @imdarkinme @xsapphirescrollsx @xoxabs88xox @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @titty-teetee @saiyanprincessswanie @dragon-of-dreams

IF I DIDN'T TAG YOU AND YOU'D LIKE TO BE TAGGED LET ME KNOW. IF I DID TAG YOU AND YOU DON'T WANT TO BE I APOLOGIZE AND PLEASE LET ME KNOW SO I DON'T TAG YOU IN ANY FUTURE FICS.

#DARK STEVE AU X READER #DARK STEVE AU AND READER #DARK STEVE ROGERS AU X READER #DARK STEVE ROGERS AU AND READER #DARK STEVE AU #DARK STEVE ROGERS AU #DARK STEVE #DARK STEVE ROGERS #DARK #DARK AVENGERS #DARK AVENGERS AU #MEAN STEVE #MEAN STEVE ROGERS #COUNTRY BOY DICK

[darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work Masterlist

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Status: In Progress

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Part 15

Part 16

Part 17

Part 18

Part 19

Part 20

Part 21

Part 22

Part 23

Part 24

Part 25

Part 26

Part 27

Part 28

Part 29

Part 30

Part 31

Part 32

Part 33

Part 34

Part 35

Part 36

Part 37

Part 38

Part 39

Part 40

Part 41

Part 42

Part 43

Part 44

Part 45

Part 46

Part 47

Part 48

Part 49

Part 50

Part 51

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #au #series #maid au #thor #fic #avengers #dark fic #dark!fic #mcu #marvel

[buckets-and-trees]

SALT (Bucky x Reader)

Fandom: MCU Characters/Pairings: mostly-dark!mob!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Word Count: 2.8k  Summary: True achievement in the restaurant industry requires a relentless drive. No compromises. You've risen through the ranks, and when your mentor retires, you're rightly given the mantle of executive chef at Devour. On your night of ascension, the dining room is packed, and among the guests is someone equally as relentless to get what he wants.

Content Warnings: imbalanced power dynamics, bribery, workplace manipulation, NON/DUBIOUS CONSENT, explicit language, risk of being caught, food play, knife play, nipple/breast play, vaginal fingering, forced orgasm, edging, unprotected vaginal intercourse, non-graphic cream pie (not the food kind)

Additional Notes: Written for @the-slumberparty's April Mob AU challenge. Using dark prompt #23 (bolded in the dialogue).

tagging some peeps who showed interest in the preview for this little thing: @sidepartskinnyjeans @vonalyn @winterslove1917

“You’re not serious, Stanley.”

“I am.”

You laughed and shook your head. “Sure. Whatever. I don’t have time for customer meet and greets during a normal service, let alone tonight of all nights.”

“You will do it,” Stanley insisted, “because it’s James Barnes and he’s got more money and influence than any god. He owns the mob scene in this town.”

When your maître d’ didn’t say anything more, you turned to truly look at him. 

You frowned but set down your pan with a huff. “Fine. Charlie, take over while I apparently go make an appearance.”

“Table twenty-seven,” Stanley said, handing you a clean dish towel, which you pressed against your forehead, cheeks, and neck as you headed for the door that led from kitchen to dining area, tossing the towel in the laundry bin under one of the counters. 

You pushed past the kitchen doors and walked through the dining room towards table twenty-seven, one of the handful booths and tables nestled in small alcoves that offered a little more privacy for VIP reservations, set off on a small dais with walls of green plants strategically placed to create ambience while sectioning off the area from curious eyes and a plethora of potential phone cameras. 

There were five individuals seated around the table, but he drew your attention first as you approached. He clocked your progress before any of his companions, and when he looked up, his stare fixed on you with such intensity that you took a brief pause before your next step, which he clearly noted, and the corner of his mouth ticked up in the slightest smirk. It made your blood heat with irritation, but you focused on remaining calm and professional as you stepped up to the table. 

“This was an exquisite meal, Chef,” he said, drawing the attention of his companions to you immediately.

“Thank you,” you replied. 

“Sam here hasn’t been able to shut up about it since the first course came out,” a blonde man sitting to his right said. 

“And you haven’t left even a crumb on your plate through any course, Steve,” he chided back good naturedly. 

Each of them had a girl tucked in next to them, but not the man with dark hair and steel blue eyes you still found it difficult to look away from who had to be the infamous James. His friends and their companions continued to rave for another minute or two about different parts of the meal’s courses. You expected them to be closer to the age of your parents, not much nearer yours. 

“Well, thank you again,” you finally said. “We’re pleased to have you dining at our restaurant tonight. Devour is a dream for all of us on the staff. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to the kitchen to oversee final preparations for the dessert course.”

“I’m eager for what’s to come next, Chef,” he said, looking you up and down, his eyes darkening. You’d delivered the overture for your exit, but he somehow made it clear it was only with his approval that you would leave in that moment. 

Twenty minutes later, you sprinkled a touch of flaky salt over the ribbon of whiskey-laced caramel drizzled over the chocolate mousse, Charlie adorned it with a perfect rosette of the Chantilly cream, and you slid the final plate across to Stanley, who put it on the final tray and sent the waiter on his way. 

“That’s service, everyone!” you announced, and some of the staff clapped and whooped. 

You smiled, truly satisfied. Charlie bumped elbows with you, and when you turned your head to look at him, you couldn’t help the genuine smile bursting across your face. 

“Truly a triumph for you taking over,” Stanley said, loud enough for everyone to hear.

“You’ve more than earned your new title as the executive chef of Devour and this kitch–“

He was cut off as there was a burst of activity at the doors coming in from the dining room. “Everyone, clear the kitchen! Out the back, please,” came a booming voice that you’d heard speak much more congenially earlier in the dining room. It was clear this man was used to giving orders and having them followed without question. 

“Excuse me,” Stanley turned to look, but on seeing who was sweeping in and ushering his staff out before him, but his tone shifted when he saw who was giving the orders – now guarded but polite, “Oh, Mr. Rogers.”

“And if I could have a word with you in particular,” Steve said, addressing Stanley and nodding towards the back. 

“Of course,” he responded.

You and Stanley exchanged a glance, and you began clearing out with the rest, but Steve put a hand on your shoulder. “Not you,” he said a little more quietly. “You stay here.”

You frowned and tilted your head as you looked up at him. He only smirked at you. 

“The rest of you, keep it moving, let’s go!”

You chewed on your bottom lip and let your hand drop to the silver surface of the counter where your fingers immediately began to drum impatiently. After a moment you turned to look over at the door to the dining room, and your breath hitched. 

He was there, leaning up against the door frame, blue eyes fixed on you. 

His face was unreadable, and so you tried to keep your face blank as well as he stalked toward you, coming around the plating area and to your side of the counter. 

“What is this, Mr. Barnes?”

“I’m buying this restaurant. Steve’s arranging everything with Stanley right now.”

Your brow furrowed.

“I own this kitchen, and I own you, Chef.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he put two fingers to your lips. 

“I’m tripling your salary,” he said as he stepped right into your space, backing you up against the counter, only a breath of space between you. 

Your heart was racing for too many reasons – anger, incredulity, but also a thrill of arousal. You wanted to refuse him, but he also drew you in, and you could not deny that. You knew he was dangerous, you were infuriated by his audacity, and yet…

“You can’t turn down an offer like that,” he continued, “especially not after the years of hard work I know you put in for the executive chef apron in this kitchen. Our stories are not so different in that way. You earned this. You won’t walk away.” 

“I can–“

“But you won’t,” he cut over you. You glowered, but he ignored your slow burning anger and instead reached around behind your back to tug at the ties of your apron. Then his voice dropped down an octave as he spoke again, “Don’t fight me. You will give yourself to me.”

“I won’t.” You cocked your chin up.

“You will,” he insisted. He pulled the black apron away from your body and tossed it onto the counter behind you.

“You will give yourself to me now.” He pushed forward, pinning you to the counter with his pelvis. You tried to suppress a shaky exhale, feeling his erection pressing into you.  “Soon you will warm my bed,” he bent his head down to ghost a kiss at your temple, then another on your cheek, before he moved his mouth further down and murmured his next threat down the column of your throat, “and I promise it won’t be long until you will beg for me to take you apart without any coercion.”

When his tongue darted out over the sensitive spot just under your jaw, a whimper escaped from your chest before you could stop it, and you felt him smile against your skin. 

You squeezed your eyes shut. “Please, anyone could catch us.”

He chuckled. “Sam and Steve are preventing that,” he said, pulling away just enough to start unbuttoning your black chef’s jacket. “But,” he continued, “if you make too much noise, you’ll confirm that we’re doing anything more than talking.” 

Once he had finished with all the buttons, he pushed the coat open. Your eyes were still closed until you felt the cool edge of a knife on your sternum, and your eyes burst open again, fear and adrenaline rushing through your body, but luckily he wasn’t looking at your face, focused instead on your chest where his metal fingers skimmed lightly over the bared skin for just a moment before they gripped the fabric of your black camisole and bra while his other hand tore his knife down in a swift movement, splitting your undergarments down the middle, putting your chest on full display for his hungry eyes. He pushed the clothing out of the way fully only over your left shoulder. 

He lifted his gaze to meet your eyes again. “Dessert was exquisite, but it didn’t satisfy what I wanted.”

He reached for a nearby saucepan, which still had a ladle in it, and smiled as he gave it a stir. You watched as he took a scoop of the caramel sauce and poured a little over the round swell of your breast. It was warm, and started to slowly spread, but not enough to drip and make a mess. You imagined in his line of work, he knew how to be precise, not leave anything extra to clean up. He set the pan back down on the counter, and then reached for something else, returning with a pinch of the flaky salt that he then sprinkled over the caramel. 

For a moment he merely admired his handiwork. then his warm hand came up to cup the underside of your breast, and then his mouth descended to lap up the salted caramel from your tender flesh. Heat bloomed across your chest and straight to your head and your core, his ministrations eliciting a low moan from you. He hummed in approval, then took your nipple into his mouth. Your nipples were always very sensitive, and he was not careful with his attention there, sucking, nipping, and licking until you whimpered and tried to push him away. He kept mouthing painfully at your nipple another moment longer. 

He leaned back for a moment to look own at you, scrutinizing your face. You were not sure what he saw there, truthfully you didn’t know how to feel and what front to put up, but whatever he assessed didn’t deter him. 

He lifted one hand to your neck and then trailed the back of his fingers down your sternum, between your breasts, over your stomach, a light touch that wasn’t rushed, knowing he could draw a shiver of anticipation from you with the purposeful action. He unbuttoned your pants, and as he slipped his hand into your panties and cupped your mound, he leaned in close to your ear and softly said, “You earned this, too, Chef.”

His fingers sought your folds. “And you are wet for me.” You didn’t need to see his face to imagine the satisfaction that must be there – it was evident in his tone. His breath was hot on the shell of your ear. “Close like this,” he whispered, “I’ll still hear even the small pretty noises I’m going to draw from you with my fingers in your cunt.”

And even though you were expecting it – dreading it? – you gasped when he quickly thrust two fingers inside you, knuckles deep, and moved them expertly in and out of your tight heat, questing and quickly finding the sensitive spongy spot on the front of your pelvic wall. You bit your lip to keep keening as quiet as you could, and your arms gripped his biceps, looking for an anchor to reality. He played your pussy quickly, nimble and knowing fingers familiarizing themselves too easily with your body for your comfort. 

His thumb went to work expertly drawing tight circles over your clit, still thrusting his fingers inside you, and the additional stimulation forced you into an intense orgasm you didn’t want to give him, burrowing your face into his neck to smother your small cry of ecstasy. 

You didn’t want to see his face – undoubtedly haughty knowing he’s pleased you despite you wanting to refuse him the satisfaction – and in this you are spared at least for the moment as without pretense he abruptly spins you around and tugs your pants and underwear down your thighs. You heard the quick unbuckling of his belt and unzipping of his pants as he freed his hard length. You had only a second to brace yourself against the countertop as he gripped your hip with one hand and used his other to guide his tip to your thoroughly slick and ready opening. One full and quick thrust had him fully sheathed inside you, punching the air from your lungs. He leaned forward against your back, his mouth close to your ear again. “Feel me in there? Stretching you to the limit.” 

He rolled his hips ever so slightly, slowly, and your head fell back against his shoulder.

“Yes, Chef. Just like that.”

He pulled his hips back, then gave another slow and powerful drive into your cunt. “Feel as smooth and velvety around my cock as that caramel sauce was on my tongue.” While one hand remained on your hip, as he began to pick up the pace with his thrusts his other hand brushed up your spine, then moved around to grasp your breast, the one he’d overstimulated just a few minutes before. You whimpered and tried to jerk away, but you’re met with his strong chest up against your back. He chuckled and then began to tweak and roll the nipple between his fingers. 

You tried to pull his hand away, still whimpering. 

“I intend to leave you feeling me for days from this, Chef,” he growls in your ear. His thrusts become rougher, faster, slamming into you over and over again. Your hands pulled at his wrist torturing your nipple, but your strength was nothing to his, and soon tears were spilling down your cheeks. When an audible sob escaped your throat, he finally relented and released your breast, but then he gripped your hips with both hands, showing no mercy for your pussy as he chased his own pleasure. 

Without the pain, your body focused only on the pleasure mounting in your core now. This felt good. He felt good. His cock filled you exquisitely. You tried to rock your hips just slightly to where you know he’d hit that pleasurable spot in you again, but he controlled the movement and forced you to stay at the angle he wanted. 

“This one is for me, Chef, not you,” he grunted. 

Still, you pant together, lungs heaving, and you’re hurtling toward another orgasm. His hips stutter for a moment, and with a groan he releases his spend inside you, slowing his movements. 

You couldn’t hold back a needy whine as he pulled out of you. You looked over your shoulder at him incredulously, edged to the very moment before but then denied your second release. 

He paused after tucking his softening cock back into his boxer briefs and gripped your chin, demanding an abrasive kiss from your lips. “When you come apart on my cock, I want to watch your beautiful face and hear you beg for me.”

Years in the kitchen have taught you to hold back your words when there’s even a shade of uncertainty, and you are uncertain if you will give him what he wants or not, because you can’t deny that your body absolutely wants him, and part of your spirit does, too. Relentless power recognizing another like its own, and you hate that you’re more than a little intrigued. You don’t want to just give him what he wants, but a tiny sliver of you whispers that you shouldn’t cut off your nose just to spite him. 

You pulled up your pants while you heard him zip and buckle his own pants again. One he had tucked in his shirt, again with swift precision, he turned you back around to face him. He reached for your apron, wiped his hands, then set it back on the counter. He didn’t mess with your torn shirt and bra other than to adjust them well enough so he could close your chef coat and button that back up over your chest. 

He gazed right into your eyes again, brushing his thumb over your lips, parting them slightly, then pushing them closed again. 

“I’ll be back for more soon,” he finally said, then walked away without another word. 

Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

LINK TO PART TWO: FAT

#mob!bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes smut #navy and roo's sleepover #navy and roo sleepover #bucky smut #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #mob bucky barnes x reader #mob boss!bucky #mob boss au #mob boss! avengers #f!reader #aspen wrote something #female reader

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Old Scars, New Blood 1

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, manipulation, borderline bullying, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader has accepted that she'll never be wanted, not only by the man she's crushed on for years, but by anyone. That is until a new player enters the game. (f!, short!reader)

Character: Lloyd Hansen, Thor Odinson

Note: I could blame yall for talking me into it but we know it's all my fault.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

The sharp zip cuts through the air. Lloyd hauls the long black bag up and checks his watch. He struts over to you and shoves the heavy luggage at you, letting it go before you can wrap your arms around it. You nearly topple from the weight.

You grunt and hug it tightly, the long duffle isn't exactly a vacation's worth Hawaiian shirts and cargo shorts. You can feel the long metal barrels as cases of ammo dig into your arms. You manage to get a hand on the handle and swing it after several tries onto your shoulder.

He's already halfway out the door. You trail after him, nearly stumbling to keep up. He's so tall you often find yourself running after him like a stray dog. So tall and handsome and--

Shut up! That's not what you should be thinking about.

Your phone vibrates and you struggle to pull it out of your pocket. You sigh as Lloyd continues along without notice, whistling casually as he approaches the stairs. Shit.

As he begins down the stairs, you stop at the top, leaning with the pull of the bag. You try to reply to the text as he makes quick progress to the bottom. 

He whistles up at you and snaps his fingers. You pop your head up and amble down the steps, barely catching yourself against the railing as you slip. When you get to the bottom, he's standing at the door, huffing impatiently.

"What's goin' on, kid?"

Kid. That's what he's always called you. Even though you're not that much younger than him. It's never sweetheart or honey like the pretty ones. Just kid.

"Plane's delayed. There's headwinds--"

"Christ's sake," he snarls.

"Sorry, sir, the pilot's trying--"

"Boring," he chops his hand through the air to silence you, "let's go."

He stands by the closed doors. You try not to let his impatience bother you. You can't blame him. He has an important mission. There's no time to be waiting on a cloud cover.

You open the right door and he steps through, tramping down the stone stairs to the mosaic walkway. Once more you're on your toes as you scurry after him. You watch how his jacket stretches between his shoulder blades. His sleeves hug his arm tightly, showing off his hard work and muscle. You shake your head, stop. Ten years. You know better.

You're out of breath as you get the idling car. Jackson, the driver nods but is similarly ignored as he opens the door for Lloyd. You go to the trunk as it pops and you put the gun bag inside.

You get in the other side as Lloyd splays his legs out and unlocks his phone with his thumb. You keep your cell clutched tight and tap it nervously. He doesn't handle roadblocks well, he's the type to demand and get. Something he hired you to make sure of.

"Well, extra time, I guess," he mutters as he swipes across the screen.

The car rolls up the long drive as you check your messages again. Still no updates. You cross one leg over the other as Lloyd's loafer nearly touches your oxford shoe.

"Hmmmm, can't decide on this one," he grumbles and tilts his screen toward you, "what do you think, kid?" He wiggles it at you as you look at the woman on the screen, "tits are nice but the tattoo screams Hep C."

You nearly gasp but just raise your eyebrows instead. He's always looking for a reaction. Your cheeks set alight and you twiddle your fingers around your own phone.

"Well, sir, I… she's pretty."

"Relax, you won't be invited to threesome," he scoffs and leans back, swiping left, "that's what this is for. Variety."

You don't say a word as you bring your hand to the side of your neck, feeling the heat of your skin. It's not just that it's him saying it, it's that gnawing feeling of inadequacy. The mystery of the unknown makes you self-conscious and wary of saying the wrong thing. The same way when you talk to your sister and she tells you about her husband. Well, you don't hear from her much these days.

"I'll send you their info. You can make a few calls before we get back," he snickers, "get everything ready for me."

"Uh, sure, sir, but uh… like I said before, that's not exactly part of my job."

"Don't tell me what your job is," he barks as he blacks his phone, "goddamn, you're always such a tight ass. Usually I'm all for a tight hole but you really know how to squeeze a man by his balls."

"I'm sorry, sir–"

"Another fucking 'sorry, sir' and I'm gonna snap. I can't do eight hours on a flight with you pouting like that."

"Understood, won't happen again," you dip your head down, "sorry, s–"

You clap your hand over your mouth. The words are so habitual they start to fall out before you realise, and yet another urge to say them. Just stop talking. You peek at Lloyd with wide eyes and drop your hand.

"You're a fucking downer, kid," he sits forward, "Jackie, pull the fuck over."

"Yes, sir," the driver replies from the little speaker under the barrier between the front and back seat. "You, get the fuck out."

You're surprised by his sudden flare of anger. There's not much about him that truly shocks you anymore but as irritable as he can be, this is unusual. His agitation has boiled to molten hot in a matter of minutes.

"Sir?"

"You can walk back and start getting shit ready. I mean, we'll see if you can since you can't get the goddamn plane on the ground," he growls as the car pulls onto the gravel wing of the road. "You're getting fucking soft, kid."

"Sir, I didn't–"

"You did. You fucking killed my boner so get out," he shoos you with his finger and unlocks his phone again, "buh bye."

You hesitate. You slowly move to the door and let yourself out. You're buzzing in disbelief. He can be a jerk, you're used to that, but this all seems so abrupt. You can only assume there's something else bothering him.

You shut the door as you stand on the side of the road. You hear Lloyd's deep timbre muffled inside the car before it pulls away. You stare after it, crossing your arms as you sniff and the sun glares along the edge of your vision.

You slowly turn and face the horizon. You're not that far. Maybe twenty minutes. Well, the single silver lining. You can't help your disappointment. You look forward to missions. It's an excuse to be with Lloyd. A reason for him to put up with you.

You set off, trodding along without urgency. There's nothing at the compound for you. It's not like you go on every mission but it's the unexpected change that gets you. More so, his temper. You see it aimed at others more than yourself.

Your phone buzzes again. The plane's landed. That's good news. As you continue your trek, you dial out to Lloyd's phone and put the speaker to your ear. No answer. Several more tries have a similar result, the last call clicking dead right away.

You send a text and it bounces back as undeliverable. You don't get it, your signal is strong. It's a military grade phone. You slide your phone away and try not to let your anxiety get the best of you.

He wouldn't block your number, would he? 

You're not special, that much is clear, but you've stuck around so long that you just can't see it ending over one slip-up. Sure, Lloyd has screamed agents out of the compound, he's even stranded them in hostile grounds, but they weren't there as long as you've been.

You drag your feet as you approach the gate. You let yourself in with the code and ignore the gazes of agents as you cross the yard and go back inside.

All this and for what?

If Lloyd fires you, you've spent ten years pent up in places like this, doing his grunt work. The tail end of your twenties and much of your thirties traded for imagined cues and empty hopes. You accepted long ago that Lloyd would never see you, just the woman he called 'kid', but the thought of losing even that makes you want to cry. You can accept that you're not as good as the models he fucks around with, but you can't accept not being there at all.

You're overreacting. You always do this. It's always the end of the world.

Lloyd will come back and everything will go back to normal. You're the only one who gets his coffee right and knows that he hates mushrooms but loves Salisbury steak. He needs you, just not like you want him to.

❤️‍🩹

Radio silence. You don't hear from him and any message you try to send is unanswered. He's on a mission, he's in blackout mode, yet you can't help but be paranoid.

Without him to order you around, you're not quite sure what to do with yourself. It's sad but that's just who you are. You're not the one doing, you're the one listening to those who do. 

The first day is the worst of it. On the second, you're not as addled and a bit relieved not to be hidden in some safe house waiting for a signal or listening to Lloyd make sick jokes. Still, you'd rather be with him.

The second night, you expect some sort of word from him. Still nothing. 

You lay in bed, restless. You don't dream about him anymore, you don't close your eyes and think about what it'd be like to be beautiful or interesting, you know it will never happen. But you worry about him. That you'll never be rid of.

The third morning, a Saturday, you go down to make your coffee. Other agents mill about as the tech crew speak into their headsets and type furiously. Something’s going on.

You near the doorway and listen in, trying to discern the chaos. There's cams to switch cameras and directions given, coordinates read out and warnings about oncoming targets. It's the usual, the same chatter you listen to over the comms when Lloyd's out in the field. Now you can only hear one side.

As the tempo builds, there's another furor. The chime that signals the censor at the front gate. Rico storms out of comms central as you flatten yourself to the wall and wait to trail him until he's past the stairs.

"What the fuck is going on?" He waves an agent in black close, "who the fuck is here?"

The agent puts his fingers to his earpiece, "we have sights."

"I asked who it was, not if you can make a shot," Rico shoves the man and stomps to the front doors, shoving them open before him. "Tell them to go the fuck away."

An agent runs up the driveway, puffing as he holds his gun securely in front of him. He stops as Rico gets to the bottom of the stairs 

"Sir, sir, it's… it's Valhalla."

"Val-what?" Rico snips.

"Valhalla!" The man repeats louder.

"Shit. Fuck." Rico continues in a rampant flurry of Spanish, "they're early."

"Sir," the agent bows his head as another appears before him.

You frown and watch from the doorway, trying to stay out of sight as you eavesdrop. 

Hm. Valhalla. You know the name, rather well, but only through correspondence. A code name. For a faceless man and his deep pockets. You hadn't heard it recently though. You thought that whole thing fizzled out.

"Fuck, Hansen, take your fucking time," Rico mutters between his Spanish diatribes, "let them in. Full search." You hear him clop back up the stairs before he blusters inside, "I need men. Now!"

He turns and sees you cradling your coffee with a dumb look. He sneers and rolls his eyes, "perfect. You'll do. We need rooms. We have guests."

"What?" You squint. 

"You're a woman, you should know how to make them at home."

"You're not my boss," you grimace and drink your coffee.

"Don't get smart with me just because that idiot keeps sniffing at his heels. Go and do something useful for once," he claps at you.

You don't move. You take orders from one person. Otherwise, you stay out of the way.

"Fuck!" He hollers and twists on his heel again.

He marches into the next room and you slowly near the front doors, still ajar as they gape out at the golden day. You come outside and descend the steps, standing just by the plinthed flower vase at the bottom. You watch the gates roll apart, letting in the convoy lined outside.

There are four cars in total. All ivory and gleaming. They hardly seem like military vehicles.

You don't get it. You pull out your phone and scroll through your emails. The last message you got from Valhalla was months ago and it left you at a stalemate between them and your indomitable boss.

The first car pulls up and stops, the other fanning out behind it. Agents circle, keeping a broad perimeter as they watch with similar intrigue. Rico appears again, muttering to himself as he holsters a gun.

You look back to the grated bumper of the luxury SUV. The engine rolls over as you find yourself holding your breath. This is it, the vaunted Valhalla. You keep your mug close to your chest as the car door opens and your jaw nearly hits the floor.

It's a man more gorgeous than anyone you've ever seen before. Well, maybe not everyone but damn close. His golden hair is braided down his back and a few wavy strands hang loose around his face. His sky blue eyes shine in the sunlight as he smiles, the expression lining his face immaculately. You gulp and force your mouth shut.

There's a brief lull before anyone reacts. Rico is the first to snap into action. He clamours down and offers a hand, "Valhalla, hello, Rico. Hansen is in the field but I will be your host."

"Ah, Rico," Valhalla repeats with a keen lilt, "you'll do for the time being."

His blue eyes scan the facade of the compound. It appears nothing more than a remote and overpriced mansion. The man takes a deep breath as if tasting the air and pauses as his gaze falls upon you. His brows twitch but he does not react otherwise.

He turns back to Rico and claps his back, "well, we traveled far, we require food and sleep and if you can spare it, lots of alcohol."

#lloyd hansen #thor #dark lloyd hansen #dark thor #dark!thor #dark!lloyd hansen #thor x reader #lloyd hansen x reader #the gray man #mcu #avengers #marvel #au #series #old scars new blood #fic #dark fic #dark!fic

[abbatoirablaze]

Delivered, Steve Rogers

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings:  smut, unprotected sex, breeding kink, minor manipulation, minor domination, dubcon/noncon relationship.

Part 3 of 3.

Part 1, Signed

Part 2, Sealed

“If there is any reason that anyone here should find that these two should not be joined today in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace!”

You looked at the congregation through your thick veil, and it was like a room full of crickets.  No one so much as even moved an inch.  Your heart thudded heavily in your chest as your eyes searched, prayed for someone to stand.

Your eyes snapped to Steve’s and you could see him grinning ear to ear as the priest continued, “Steven and (Y/N), you are now joined in holy matrimony.  I present you as Mr. and Mrs. Rogers.  Steven, you may kiss your bride.”

Steve was quick to raise your veil and sweep you into his arms and an even more intense, searing kiss.  One that instinctively had your eyes closing and your toes curling.  The passion both turned you on and made you sick.

While you wanted to hate him for it, it was like your mind went blank and you allowed yourself to lean into it.  You had hated him as children, but ever since the other night, there was something in you that made you drawn to him. 

As your thoughts wandered to how he went from the sickly child who could have been knocked over by wind that was too strong, to how he was nothing but one hundred percent man, you felt his hand slip a little lower from your waist to your ass as he spun you and pulled you back to his chest.  His fingers kneaded you through the fabric and he gave you a devious grin as your hands went up to tangle in his hair, he pulled away from you. 

You gave him an owlish look while the congregation made up of your family and friends cheered for your union, all of them unaware of the fact that you knew what he was going to do in just a few hours time.

“I’ve got so many plans for us!” he promised as he turned the two of you towards the congregation.  Steve raised your hand in his before pulling you towards the aisles so that the two of you could go to the reception.

You moaned as your husband’s cock kissed your cervix again and again.  Your eyes rolled into the back of your skull as your mouth fell open in a silent moan and your back arched away from the wall, he had you pressed into.

His panting was heavy, the warmth of his breath fanning heavily over your neck as he pressed open mouth kisses along the column of your throat, “Casso, principessa.  Sei cosi stretto.  La tua figa mi sta soffocando il cazzo.” (Fuck, princess.  Your pussy is choking my cock.)

“S-steve!” you whimpered, your nails digging into the fabric that covered his shoulders, “St-Steve.  Steve!”

“Giusto.  Gemi il mio nome!” (That’s right.  Moan my name.)

“I-I don’t-oh god!” you moaned as you tried to stave off your orgasm, “Steve-we-FUCK!”

You sobbed against your orgasm as it came crashing over you all over again.  His thick length driving so deep into you that you could feel him in your stomach.

He pulled away just enough for his lips to messily catch yours.

It was a battle of tongues and teeth as you tugged on his bottom lip with yours, needing to be dominative over something. 

He growled, his hips bucking deep inside of you.  Your core shuddered violently around his cock, and you let go of his plump bottom lip, moaning so loud you knew that your sisters had to have heard the impromptu consummation of your marriage before you even hit the reception.

“God, it’s so funny to see how the tables have turned after all these years,” Steve moaned as he broke the kiss yet again.  His hips stopped thrusting and you quickly came back to reality as his thumb grazed over your own swollen lips, “been in love with you since we were kids, and you acted like you hated me the whole time…but right now…fuck, princess…I bet I could have you begging on your knees for my cock…you wanna be a dirty little slut for me…for your husband.  You’re pretty little pussy is strangling my cock like it’s the only thing you need!”

You went to open your mouth, but his finger went over it.

“You don’t need to speak, sweetheart,” he smirked, keeping you silent.  His hand slid away from your mouth and down your throat.  You felt your cunt clenching around his cock as he stopped at the base of your throat.  His brow lifted as his eyes met yours once more, “I can tell what you like just by the way that tight little pussy clings to me…you like this…don’t you?  Like the idea of the danger even though you know I’d kill myself before I’d ever harm a hair on your head…is that what you wanna feel, princess?  Danger?  Wanna feel my hand on your throat as I fuck our future into you?  God, you have no idea what you do to me…what you’ve always done to me…you made me everything I am, princess…made me fight to be the man I am today!”

“Steve-“

“And fuck…that body,” he groaned, as his hands slid down your chest, cradling your breasts which had been pulled out of the corseted top of your dress earlier so that Steve could play with them, “god, you have a body made for sin…puberty did us both well, didn’t it, (Y/N)?”

Your eyes flickered down to his kiss swollen lips, and even lower to his chest, the fabric of which was straining over it.  The top button had been all but ripped open earlier in a fever as you pulled him into the closet, not knowing what had originally come over you.

His hands guided you to sit on his lap as soon as the two of you got into the limo. 

You didn’t expect him to be rock hard. 

Matter of fact, you had planned a very well-thought-out argument of how it was sexist for him to just assume you would be sitting on his lap. 

But it had quickly gone out the window when you felt his hardened member even through the fabric of your dress. 

And the look that he gave you…

It made you want to take him in the limo.

What was coming over you?  And why were you becoming crazy over the man you hated as a child?

“We only have a few minutes,” he reminded you with a soft taunt as his hands ran up your chest.  He smiled even more, seeing the tops of your breasts over the top of the corseted dress.  He leaned forward, pressing gentle kisses on the tops of them.  You shivered as his scruff gently scratched at your delicate skin, “so beautiful.”

“Ste-“

“Don’t speak,” he begged as he pressed his lips to yours in a hurried kiss.  His hands slid up your body and he massaged your breasts before pulling one out, his mouth making quick work of kissing the exposed flesh until your nipple hardened under his touch, “I’m going to show you the world I built for us…and that starts with me making sure you never doubt how much of a man I am, again!  Right now…I want you to feel that manhood…do you feel it, princess?”

You moaned out a yes, nodding as he took your nipple in his mouth.  He held you firmly on his lap, grinding his hips upward and rocking against you through your separate clothing, while he tugged on your nipple ever so lightly as his hands wrapped around your waist so that he could bury his face against your chest. 

You were having sensory overload.

How did he know what to do to drive you crazy?

“I’ve got so much in store for us,” he moaned as he latched onto your breast once more.  Your eyes widened as he tugged your nipple between his teeth, teasing the sensitive nub.  Your hands went to his hair, tangling in the sandy tresses, “oh god…keep tugging on my hair like that…I’m already so close to filling you up…give me a reason to not stop until I know you’re pregnant.”

Your eyes went wide, and like being doused in cold water, you sobered up immediately, attempting to push him away from yourself, “Steve…wait.  I don’t-“

“No, no…” he pressed on as you squirmed against him, “we can’t stop now…not with how your pretty little pussy is milking me…that cunt wants to be full of me…and I’m going to give her everything she wants!  I promised to build us a future when we were younger…it starts here…now!”

“S-Steve…stop!”

“Gonna give you everything, my love,” he promised as he closed in on his own high, “and it all starts tonight…first thing I gave you was my last name…now I’m giving you a baby!  Maybe if we’re lucky it’ll be more than one…”

“St-“

He was quick to cover your mouth, and you bit back another whimper as you felt his cock twitch inside of you.

Your stomach turned as you heard how the announcements for your reception had started, and your brother Bucky was introduced with his wife.  Your heart broke as you knew that just a few feet away your family and friends were joyously awaiting your entrance as ‘Mrs. Rogers,’ while your new husband was having his way with you…doing whatever he wanted.

“FUCK!” he groaned, pressing his forehead against yours.  You whimpered even more as you felt the warmth of his spend making your stomach feel full.  His face flushed, and he looked at you through sweetly sinister eyes.  His other free hand stroked your cheek as a tear slipped down it, “oh baby…don’t cry…we’re married.  This-this was what we were meant to do, right?  Build up the five families…can’t build up the families if we aren’t making one ourselves…but don’t you worry, okay?  Tonight’s just the start…I know we don’t have much time. Shit…I think I heard them announce Buck…”

He removed his hand and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips as he pulled out of you. 

You felt hollow as he tucked his softening cock back into his pants and quickly moved towards the door.  You could see just over his shoulder as the door to the reception opened once more, and they announced your sister Becca and her husband, Thor. 

You pushed your dress back down over your lower half while you felt Steve’s cum starting to drip down your inner thigh. 

He closed the door and rushed back to you, pressing another kiss to your lips as he straightened out his tie and then helped lift the top half of the dress once more so your breasts were contained in it, “we’ll pick this back up on the way to our honeymoon…promise…have a good little flight all lined up…we’ll christen the whole thing!”

“H-honeymoon?”

Steve smirked as he fixed your veil, placing it back on your head, “of course…I mean, if tonight didn’t take, I know we’ll at least have another month at one of my family’s estates in Tuscany…god you’ll love it there…nothing like those dreary old brownstones your parents have in London.”

You felt a fear raising up in your stomach as you looked at him, “Wh-what do you mean?’

“Baby…one way or another, before Christmas, we’re announcing the fact that there will be a new little Rogers baby…I told you I’m going to give you everything,” Steve smiled, “I told your father that the day that he agreed to let me marry you.  I promised all of us a legacy.  And we’re only just getting started.  Now come on…we can’t miss our own entrance.”

You felt like a robot as he took your hand in his and ushered you out of the room.  Winnie and Clint had just been introduced as your elder sister Bethany looked at you over her shoulder.  She gave you a sympathetic look as her hand fell to her own stomach. 

It was like she knew what you were going through because she had gone through the same things. 

It was then that you noticed the way that Sam was holding her.  It wasn’t romantic, but possessive. 

Had all of your sisters gone through the same thing?

‘It’ll be okay,’ she mouthed to you as the door opened yet again and the MC announced her and Sam, ‘I love you.’

Steve wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you towards him in the same way that Sam had held your sister, and your stomach turned yet again as he gave you a smirk, “looks like we’re next, Mrs. Rogers.   You ready?”

#marvel au #marvel #the avengers #steve rogers #captain america #signed sealed delivered #mob au #mafia au #dark steve rogers #steve rogers smut

[harryspet]

the alpha’s trophy | s.rogers

[Warnings] dark!alpha!steve rogers x reader, omega!innocent!reader, reader is the last omega, military!steve to the max, non-werewolf a/b/o dynamics, kidnapping, praise kink, agegap, size difference/size kink, spanking, oral sex (female recieving), forced orgasms, omega heat, domestic!steve, my attempt at politics

A/N: This probably should’ve been two parts but oh well! (model is @enchated_noir)

In which you’re the last Omega and Steve’s the most influential Alpha in the country.

word count: 9k 

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Your bare feet padded against the wooden floor of Bruce Banner’s downstairs hallway. It was past your bedtime, a strict nine-thirty, but some nights you got curious what the bumbling man got up to at night. His office was on the first floor of his brownstone, with double doors leading to a spacious but paperwork covered room. You made sure to tip toe as you peaked inside, thankful that he was probably too much in a hurry to make sure it was closed. 

Blue holograms surrounded the room, each one representing a living person and almost each you now recognized. When you first met Bruce, you hadn’t realized just how famous he was and it was too late to be cautious of his sad and volatile past. He’d moved past it, he explained to you, and he was gonna help you control your inconvenient gene as well. That’s what the medicine was for. 

Apparently, you had your own inner demon to fight off, “Bruce, all your leads seem to be coming up empty,” That voice was James Rhodes, the Iron Patriot, Tony Stark’s former right hand man, “I’ve spent the last two months combing through mountains in Veracruz using the device and absolutely nothing. Before that, Washington, Montreal, and Savannah. I spent half a year in Cork and never got close to an alert. You’ve been around the world yourself and you still have faith in this thing?”

Bruce always seems grumpy on the mornings after these meetings. He was always the smartest in the room and people could treat him sometimes like he wasn’t, “We have DNA collected from some of the last Omegas that ever existed and we have DNA from perhaps the strongest Alpha in the world. It’s in their chemistry for Alpha’s to find Omega’s and the device is able to completely, although artificially, utilize that ability. It’s a science. A science I have mastered. The problem isn’t with the device.”

“Then what is the problem, Bruce?” Bucky Barnes, you recognized that voice too. He’s the one who gives Bruce the most headaches. You could also recognize him by the energy he gave off, energy you could feel even through the hologram. 

“The problem is simply that this crisis is worse than we feared. We haven’t come across an Omega yet because there are most likely less than ten of them left on this entire planet. If that.”

You couldn’t help the gasp that left your lips and Bruce turned around, meeting your eyes for a second before pretending that he hadn’t noticed you. He didn’t want them to know you were there for some reason. 

“He won’t take that as an answer,” Bucky responded and you leaned in closer, gently placing your hand on the knob. You knew Bruce would be angry but you cared more for hearing the rest of the conversation, “If there is even one left, he wants them, and he won’t stop searching. Even if it is a one in a seven billion chance, Dr. Banner.”

Bruce leaned against his desk, his arms crossed in front of him as he blew out a sigh, “There’s always an evolutionary reason for things like this. They weren’t snapped away, they slowly stopped being born and they died out. Tell Steve this or not, I don’t care, but it seems the universe is telling us to move on. Alphas will mate with Betas and Betas will mate with those who are not ranked. The world goes on.”

“Bruce-”

Bruce interrupts Rhodes, “Hey, maybe ask Captain Marvel if she’ll fly you an alien omega from another planet,”  The scientist didn’t let the two men get anything out before pressing a button on his computer that ended the call. 

You took a step back, wondering if you could make a dash upstairs and avoid his wrath, “Don’t,” You heard his voice on the other side of the door before one of the double doors swung open. 

You took a breath, “Hi,” You whispered. 

“Hi,” Bruce seemed to smile even though he really didn’t want to. He looked down at your small figure, deciding that, like usual, he just couldn’t get truly angry at you. Although he was a Beta and completely outranked you, he never treated you that way, “I thought you were fast asleep.”

“I was…” You tiptoed around the truth. “I couldn’t sleep and … you never talk much about the stuff you do.”

“You’re curious,” Bruce placed his hand on your shoulders, a comforting and warm feeling flowed through, as he slowly turned you in the direction of the kitchen, “I suppose I can’t blame you for that. You know what always helps me sleep?”

You perked up, looking over your shoulder at him, “Milk and cookies?”

“Milk and cookies,” He nodded in agreement, leading you into the small kitchen. All the appliances were on one side, a wooden dining table on the other, with a view of Bruce’s tiny yard. There was a small garden outside though all the plants were dead since Bruce was often too busy and not home enough. You wished you could tend to it but you weren’t allowed outside. 

You watched as he retrieved the store-bought cookies from the freezer and you helped him separate them on the pan, “I assume you heard a lot of my conversation.”

“A little,” You shrugged.

“Y/N,” He warned, “C’mon, what are you thinking?”

“That I’ve never …met an Alpha before,” You spoke honestly.

“Well, they’re getting rare these days as well. I suppose that’s a good thing that there’s less ego. If you’re lucky, you’ll never meet one.”

You nodded although you still had questions, “But why exactly can’t I meet one?”

Bruce was quiet for a moment, like he suddenly realized how delicate this topic was, “Alphas and Omegas are a natural pair but Omegas are outnumbered. Too outnumbered.”

“You said that there are probably less than ten of us,” You remembered, “Did you mean that?”

“Yes,” Bruce spoked quickly, “But it’s an estimate. It’s been thirty years since anyone has seen a living Omega.”

“But I’m not the last one, right?” You asked, “You could find another? Why don’t you use me to help? I could help.”

“Y/N,” Bruce said, snapping you from your delusions, “It’s a miracle I found you. A complete miracle. And I promised your Grandmother that I wouldn’t experiment on you, that’s the last thing that she wanted. In the wrong person’s hands, that’s exactly what you’d be. She wanted you protected.”

You weren’t sure exactly how you should feel. You had no idea you could be more isolated. It was all you had known. You spent the first eighteen years of your life with Nana and then the next three with Bruce. You’d never gone to a real school or had real friends and yet this was the first time you were truly alone. You were one of the last ones left. There was no one out there to truly understand you. 

The two of you sat at the dining table after the cookies cooled off, your legs tucked beneath you, as you leaned over your plate, “Why do you lie to your friends on the blue computer things?”

“I used to call a lot of people my friends. Now things are different and I just don’t agree with the things they stand for anymore.”

“So why do you talk to them?”

“They’re connected to an important person. I can’t really afford to be on their bad side.”

“The man who’s looking for someone like me?” You pressed further.

Bruce hadn’t realized you comprehended so much and he noted that he would have to start taking his meetings elsewhere. Bruce dipped his last cookie in his glass, eating the whole thing in one bite before dusting off his hands, “I think that’s enough for tonight. You won’t be able to sleep with so much on your mind.”

“There’s already so much to think about,” You whined, “I can handle it, I promise. Besides, who am I gonna talk to about it?”

“That’s enough for tonight,” Bruce spoke firmly, “We both could use some rest.”

Once you found sleep it was relatively peaceful but you were jolted awake by your blanket being ripped from on top of you. You didn’t realize your heart could beat so fast and you were immediately angry at Bruce who had scared you within an inch of your life, “Get up,” He spoke aggressively, “Put your things in this. Pack only the things you need.”

He tossed you a black backpack that you had a feeling would not fit enough of your precious knick knacks that you’d acquired over the past few years. You threw your legs over the side of the bed, “W-What’s wrong?” You asked as he made his way to the door, “Bruce!”

“We’ve been here too long, Y/N,” He ran his fingers through his hair, his voice losing breath, “I’m taking you somewhere safe. I-It’s, uhm, everything’s fine. Just pack up and come downstairs.”

You did as he said, grabbing a maroon sweater to drape over your nightgown before grabbing more clothing items to put in the bag. You decided on one stuffed animal, a squishy version of a panda bear, before grabbing a few toiletries from your bathroom including your white pills. 

You slipped on a pair of black boots, strapped on the backpack, and hurried your way down the stairs. This moment felt exactly how it did when your Nana’s heart gave out and Bruce was whisking you away to a land you’d never been before. 

“Bruce, I’m ready,” You hurried to the bottom of the stairs only to see a gun being pointed at the side of Bruce’s head. The man holding the gun was dressed in black, an arrow strapped to his back, and intricate tattoos decorating his arm. There was another man with dark skin who’s determined look seemed to be replaced by a dropped jaw at the sight of me, “Bruce.”

“God almighty,” The man with the gun spoke, taking me in. Bruce gave you a panicked look and for the first time it seemed like he didn’t have a plan. You did the only thing you could think to do. You turned on your heel and ran back up the stairs, “Go, Sam.”

You made it back to your bedroom, locking it behind you as you ran to your window. There was a pounding at the door but it wasn’t louder than the pounding in your ears. You manage to get it open before your door is completely broken down. You were halfway onto the landing before you were wrapped in strong arms and yanked back inside. You dug your nails into the man until he groaned in pain but he never let you go.

As your hands desperately grabbed at the stair railing, you heard a deafening sound from too close nearby. Sam hurried down the stairs with you in his arms and he finally let you go when he reached the bottom, “W-What did you do?” You scrambled to your feet, looking over the couch to see Bruce on the floor, the carpet around his head soaking with blood.

“Resisting arrest by a government official,” The man declared and you felt your knees give out beneath you.

“She doesn’t smell like one, Clint,” Sam commented. 

“He’s probably been feeding her suppressants. Makes sense why we haven’t had a lead in years,” They spoke about you like you were an object and perhaps that’s what you were, “Cuff her, let’s go.”

You didn’t resist as your arms were pulled behind your back and a black sack was hauled over your head. It’s like your body wanted to shut down, to free you from the terror in your mind, and you could barely feel a thing as you were led outside. It was the first time you’d truly been outside for years and you couldn’t even feel the sun on your skin. 

You could hear the roaring sound of a large engine and you were lifted inside before a door was slammed shut. You couldn’t tell if you were alive. You told yourself to breathe but breathing led to hyperventilating. There was not enough air in your lungs nor inside the hood over your head and the oxygen ran out soon and your thoughts trailed off to nowhere. 

Steve and Bucky sat side by side in the back of the armored vehicle. Fort Lehigh was their destination, newly revamped in Steve’s honor and now the largest army base in the country. Bucky handed Steve a phone displaying a live feed of your room. 

His first impression of you was how small you were and how you looked even smaller due to the fact that you were curled up tightly in a ball. The bed wasn’t small and you didn’t seem to lack any blankets, you were just seeking comfort within your own skin. 

“How long has she been off the suppressants?” Steve asked, concern laced in his tone that he would only show to his closest friend. 

“Almost 72 hours,” Bucky answered.

“And no one has been allowed near her?”

“No, only the unranked, just like you asked. I doubt anyone will make a move against you, they know where your eyes are set.”

“Still, it’ll be hard for any Alpha to resist her when she fully presents as an Omega. I need to make an offer to Capitol Hill.”

After Tony Stark’s death and Thanos’s defeat, Steve became even more of a symbol. Now, he was the highest ranking American soldier and had more political influence than any politician, “They’ll be touted as heroes for giving the last Omega to their most respected soldier.”

“But they’ll still want something to line their pockets,” Steve said, looking down at the small screen. You still hadn’t moved and Steve wondered how much they scared you during the retrieval. Steve cleared his throat, handing the phone back over. The car was getting closer to the center of the base and he’d be face to face with you soon. He adjusted the front of his suit, a darker version of the usual red, white and blue, “Whatever they ask, make sure they get it.”

“Aye, aye.”

The room barely had any blankets or pillows. One pillow and one blanket. You were completely freezing and all you wanted to do was be under a mountain of blankets and stuffed animals. There were no stuffed animals either and you’d probably never see your old ones again. And fuzzy socks. No fuzzy socks. This place was a complete prison. 

In a panic you rearranged the room, moving the mattress beneath the bed and laying the blanket on top to create a tent. They never turned the lights off here either so the time of day was lost on you. 

The door to your cell creaked open and you assumed someone was here to drop off food but an extremely deep voice said your name. The name vibrated through you, widening your eyes, and raising every hair on your body. It felt as if you were hearing it for the first time. 

You didn’t move but the door closed and the footsteps became louder. His smell enveloped the room, warm and woodsy, like tobacco leaf and vanilla. You completely felt him before you saw him. You could picture him as everything about him had already invaded your every sense. 

He kneeled down, lifting the blanket that was shielding you in your tent. It was like a scary movie, the murderous villain finally shows him face, only to be extremely handsome. You were still frightened nonetheless. He scanned you fully examining you like one of his missions.  

Steve Rogers. 

You were surprised when he let the blanket fall and let you be enveloped by darkness once again. His footsteps faded and the cell door opened, “She needs blankets. Soft things. Find whatever you can. And kill the lights at night, no one can sleep that way. Understand?”

“Sir, yes, sir.”

Steve was right. You weren’t tucked away under the bed anymore, you were gathering everything soft they’d given you and creating an intricate nest on the floor. Every pillow was arranged perfectly, contorting to the shape of your body as you finally slept peacefully.

“These young kids have never even seen a young Omega in their lifetime. I didn’t realize they’d have no idea how to care for one,” Steve stood beside Bucky, watching you through the two way mirror. 

“It’s a shame,” Bucky shook his head, “I remember when we were younger and we thought you’d turn out to be an Omega.”

Steve smiled, “I proved myself, didn’t I?”

“You sure did,” Bucky nodded, “She could turn out to be something great too. A symbol, I mean. People think the reason we lost so many Omegas is because of how corrupt our society has become. You two … you could represent a transition back to good, American values.”

Steve couldn’t even admit how much the idea of that excited him, “I’ve let you hang around too many politicians.”

“I’m Mr. America, Cap’s Best Friend. Don’t forget that,” Bucky nudged him, “What’s stopping you from just taking her and running?”

“I’m gonna do this right,” Steve responded, “And the suppressants haven’t worn off, I want to be absolutely certain of what she is. Besides that, I’m making other preparations. Everything will eventually go public and people will either want to sell her or experiment on her. I need a safehouse, one much better than Banner’s.”

“What was he thinking?” Bucky asked in disbelief. He was the one who spotted you during the meeting. You were the eyes peeking through the door of Banner’s office.

Steve knew exactly what happened, “He was still trying to be the good guy.” Years ago, he would’ve done the same. 

The next time Steve visited your room, you were less on edge but your body was starting to drive you crazy. You had random crying fits even when you weren’t sad and moments where it felt like your blood was on fire. The only thing that soothed you was your pile of soft things. 

He leaned against the wall, arms folded in front of him, like a guard, “You had him killed.”

Steve shook his head, “No,” He also didn’t send Clint and Sam there with orders to take him peacefully, “But I’m sorry for your loss.”

You didn’t believe him, that was clear, “He was your friend before he knew me.”

“When you get older, you’ll understand friends often grow apart,” That was something Bruce would’ve said to you. 

“And I guess I’ll make friends one day from inside the box I’m forced to live in,” You responded, playing with the fringe on a teal blanket.

“You won’t feel trapped for long.”

Next he was gonna say you’ll have plenty of space to roam, like you were an animal, “You’re the man who was looking for someone like me?”

“I’ve been looking for you, Y/N,” You sucked in a breath, “And as my luck would have it, you’re here.”

“What do you want to use me for?”

The captain’s eyes seemed to narrow on you, “What do you think I would like to use you for?”

He was toying with you and you wished you weren’t in such a low position compared to him, “Bruce said bad people would want to experiment on me. He said I was one of the last ones.”

“You are the last Omega, honey,” Steve pushed away from the wall, stalking closer, “And just like Bruce, I don’t want you to be an experiment either.”

“But … you won’t give me my pills.”

“Those pills repress the most special part of you. That’s the part I’m interested in,” Steve crouched down, getting closer to eye level with you, “You don’t know much about yourself, do you?”

You glared at him, and you were angered at what he seemed to be implying. Yes, you were younger and less experienced but you were not stupid. Anger was soon replaced by a new feeling as his eyes settled on your lips. You stood up from the mattress, crossing the room to create more distance.

“What if I don’t want to go with you?”

Steve hung his head for a moment and you could tell that was not the reaction he wanted. He stood next, and you realized just how much bigger he was than you. You were a third of him, his shadow immediately draping over you, a wall of muscle you could barely see past.

“I know that coming off the suppressants is making you feel weird . . . emotional, even, but it’ll pass. You’ll feel normal-”

“I-I’m emotional because you . . . y-you killed my friend and I’m stuck here!” You were surprised you raised your voice but you needed him to hear you. Your voice was smaller than his and your voiced seemed to bounce right off of him and crumble to the floor. Still, your frustrations flowed out, “I don’t know you, I don’t know where I am, and everything here tastes like … l-like cardboard! None of my clothes are here, my panda is gone, and there’s no bad reality television to watch!” 

Steve smiled, “Keep going, sweetheart.”

You had the urge to scream but you clenched your fist instead. Steve watched as you began to pace, “This is what I was warned about. Those pills keep me from being w-weak . . . a-and crazy and I’m not supposed to be like this,” Tears stung your eyes before they fell down your cheeks, “I'm not supposed to be here with you.”

“Come here, Y/N,” Your body went rigid as his voice shivered through you. You looked up at him in shock as it wasn’t you who was in control of your movements, “Come closer.”

He’d changed his voice, it had the same deepness but it was now dripping in influence. Control. 

A test. 

You tried to shake your head but couldn’t. You were still upset, your throat still tight from the crying, and you felt the lack of control was gonna make your mood worsen. 

“Y/N,” He tried again and you actively fought it. 

“No,” You struggled to say, your voice a whimper, “Please.” 

Now, you were desperate. Steve liked that word on your lips and he liked those tear stained cheeks more than he’d probably admit. 

“Come,” He ordered again and your body moved towards its Master, “That’s it, good Omega. Good girl.”

Instinctively, your arms wrapped around him and your head rested on his chest. A switch flipped inside you as you were enveloped in his warmth and a part of you seemed to roar awake as his large hands pet the curls atop your head. Your worries faded, your heartbeat evened out, and the flame beneath your skin was extinguished. 

It was euphoric. 

Steve went into the ice unmated, and once he awoke, all the Omegas were gone. Something shifted within him as well and even he marveled at how quickly nature took its course. The sound of his voice was enough to quell your tantrum. All you needed was to be reminded of your place. You’d have him to guide you and to protect you. Steve would make sure you wanted for nothing. 

When you pulled away from his embrace, your hands roamed cautiously over his uniform, feeling every divet and wanting desperately to feel his skin. Your smaller hand grabbed his, your doe eyes staring up at him. What were the chances that the last Omega in the world would be this beautiful?

Steve was curious about your next movements as you led him over to your makeshift bed. You pointed down to the bed, expecting him to understand but he was left guessing, “You want me to lie down, honey?”

You nodded, the relaxed daze you were in had left you speechless. Steve did as you wanted, wondering how it was that he was taking the orders now. Normal, non-hypnotized you, would’ve found it funny watching the monster of a man lay there on a twin sized mattress. Now, all you wanted was to be protected in his embrace. You kept your hand in his, laying down right next to him. 

Next, you closed your eyes and found the coziest dreamland. 

Two days later, the scientists on the base declared that it was likely that the suppressants were no longer in your system. You were at your most natural state but it couldn’t feel much more foreign than it did. Steve was wrong, the emotional fits continued but now it was due to the fact that he’d left you alone, clinging to a pillow that still smelt like him. You missed him and hated that you missed him. 

That morning, your breakfast arrived as well as a stack of folded clothes. You knew it was a sign that you were leaving the room but that brought new fears you hadn’t even considered. You were trading this prison for another but there had to be some way out. Steve couldn’t possibly have everything figured out. But what if he did? And he’d overpower you easily so what was there left to do.

You were beginning to think it might be better to be a science experiment rather than his puppet. 

The clothing provided was a pink, floral, knee-length dress and a clean pair of white sneakers. Undergarments were provided, of course, but you wondered if Steve had a hand in picking those. Before you could stop yourself, you brought the dress to your nose, needing to know if he had touched them. 

You sensed no trace of him and immediately felt embarrassed that you desired him. That emotion turned to anger and you decided that you wanted to stay a little longer in the white box. You tossed the clothes to the side, focusing on fueling yourself instead. When your food was done, you stared at the two way mirror, a scowl on your face, and you hoped Steve was on the other side. 

The door opened again thirty minutes later and you were fully prepared for Steve but a woman entered instead, unranked, and dressed like a lawyer. She smiled at you, her dark hair tucked neatly in a bun behind her hair, as she closed the door behind her, “Y/N, I’m Maria Hill, It’s nice to meet you.”

You scanned her over, unable to even truly imagine how disheveled you must look in comparison to her. She glances quickly over to the clothes that are tossed to the side of the room. “Where’s Steve?”

“He’s going to meet us at our next location but don’t even worry about him, think of me as your advocate. I’m going to explain all the legal jargon so it’s not-”

“Legal?” Your eyebrows raised, “Where are we going?”

“Washington, D.C.,” She said, “A senate subcommittee meeting is being held concerning your … well-being.”

You shook your head, “I don’t understand. W-Why does the Senate care about me? Do lots of people know about me? How many?”

“As of this morning, the world knows,” She spoke, although her eyes said that she knew she was delivering devastating news, “Our government has a duty to protect you, Y/N. They’re deciding the next steps they need to make in order to ensure your safety.”

“I’m safe here,” You rushed out, panic beginning to set in, “Just let me stay here. I-I don’t want to go anywhere else.”

“Listen, I know this is frightening but this is your chance to ensure your own freedom,” That snapped you from the fog of anxiety, “You can show them who you are, that you’re your own person with feelings and needs. You can say whatever you want to them. This isn’t the 50’s anymore, the only thing they want to force you to do is to stay alive.”

You swallowed. 

You weren’t even sure who you were and you weren't even sure you could even think of words to describe yourself that didn’t seem juvenile. Steve had the upper hand in that arena as well. You didn’t know him well but you could tell he was sure of himself. 

You stayed close to Maria the entire time, during the helicopter ride and the car ride to the Capital. As you got closer, you saw thousands of people lined up on the street just to see the line of black limos pass by. There was no hiding it, the world knew your name and there was no hiding your scent. 

A group of eight Secret Service agents surrounded you the entire time, up the white steps and into the prestigious building. You couldn’t see much past them. You could only hear the roar of a crowd and the snapping of pictures. 

Once you were inside, the agents parted only to let someone into you and Maria’s bubble. You hadn’t seen Steve since you’d cuddle up to him in bed and you didn't realize you’d feel the same euphoria as before just by being a foot away from him. You kept your hands to your side, resisting any desire to reach out and grab him, “You look beautiful, sweetheart,'' was the first thing he said. You could say the same as he was dressed in a fancy black suit, his lapel decorated with several different medals of honor. 

Your lips parted although no words left them. That made him smirk. 

“You’re not nervous, are you?”

You shook your head quickly.

“Good,” He stated, “There’s no need to be nervous when I’ll be there, understand?”

You nodded, feeling like a puppet.

“Tell me you understand, honey.”

“I . . . I understand,” You found your voice and you gave Maria a suspecting look which Steve seemed to notice.

“Is that all, Captain?” Maria asked, “The meeting is starting soon.”

“Yes,” He leaned down to whisper in your ear in that life-shaking, influencing tone, “You’re mine.” 

The pictures didn’t stop even as you entered the meeting room. The room was huge with wood walls and expensive looking golden fixtures everywhere. The group of 12 senators sat in a half circle behind a curved wooden desk, elevated a few feet from the crowd. You walked with Maria past several rows of pews filled with people. There wasn’t enough room for everyone to sit, leaving reporters and photographers standing on the sides of the room, snapping pictures, and calling out your name in order to get your take on the situation. 

The room felt airless and it made it even worse that you felt you were moving in quicksand. Maria was keeping you upright, tethering you to the planet you mentally felt so far away from, leading you to the second table placed in front of the congress members. When you sat beside her, you wanted to stop yourself from looking behind you but you couldn’t help herself. Like you expected, everyone’s attention was locked on you. From all angles, there was no way you could escape it. 

Your eyes met Steve’s who was sitting in the adjacent table to yours, right next to Bucky Barnes. You realized that Steve was going to be a voice in this matter, most likely arguing against whatever you wanted for yourself.  

With your feet dangling above the group in the large chair, it was hard to think the two of you were on the same level.

The meeting had started but you felt outside your body and you realized you were only staring instead of listening. Everything seemed to get quiet and you were suddenly back in your body. You had no idea how long it had been since you sat down or why everyone seemed to be waiting. 

Maria squeezed your hand which was sweaty and resting on the table in front of you. She leaned over to say, “Senator Ochoa addressed you,” She gave you a reassuring smile, “She wants you to introduce yourself and talk about how you ended up here today. Just stand and share what you’re comfortable with.”

You didn’t know you’d have to stand to speak and you were almost considering falling over and faking a heart attack. Steadying yourself on shaking legs, you suddenly realized you had no idea who that senator was. You scanned their nameplates, your eyes landing on a brown skinned woman with straight white hair. 

You were suddenly aware it had been an uncomfortable amount of silence since someone last spoke. Still, you were getting up the courage, deciding to focus on the woman as a way to not focus on the hundred of people whose eyes were on you, “Hi … I’m Y/N … Y/L/N-” Already there were whispers and you looked down at Maria who was urging you to continue, “I-I didn’t know I was coming here today and I’ve . . . never even been in a room with more than 3 people until now. The past few days have probably been the worst of my life but . . . before that, I grew up with my grandmother. She protected me and she homeschool me for my entire life. When she died, Dr. Banner took me in-”

Everyone was in tune to every word you said, like your life was the most interesting thing in the world. Truthfully, your life still wasn’t important in the grand scheme of things and you disliked the seriousness people were now assigning it. 

“He kept me safe and loved me like his own. He was . . .” You held in your tears but your eyes still watered, “He was murdered by one of your government officials and now I’m here. That’s my life, Congresswoman.”

She addressed you again, “Thank you, Miss Y/L/N. We’re all aware this environment is abnormal for you, that’s why we had Agent Hill help represent you today. Please feel free to ask questions if you don’t understand something,” You nodded, “If I may continue, in the official report, it says that Dr. Banner pulled a knife on Agent Barton. You mentioned that he kept you safe. Would it be safe to say that he would kill for you?”

“I didn’t know him as a killer, and I was there, I know for a fact that he didn’t try to hurt Agent Barton. There was a gun pointed to his head-” You tried to control your tone, not wanting to come off as angry, although that was all you felt when you thought about how he died, “No, he wouldn’t have.”

Another Senator spoke up, “Miss Y/L/N, isn’t it true that Dr. Banner didn’t clue you in to much of his business? Did you know that he had sold the government fake tracking devices and was sending our agents on wild goose chases around the world?”

“Well …” You couldn’t lie, especially around this many people, “I didn’t know that exactly. I did know that Omegas were being searched for and that . . and that-”

“Did you or did you not know the device was fake, Miss Y/LN?”

You looked down at Maria and she simply told you to be honest, “No, I didn’t.”

You were asked a few more questions and the only thing the Senators seemed to learn was that you knew nothing at all. When it seemed they were getting nowhere with me, they moved to Steve, and many of the Senator’s eyes seemed to light up when the hundred year old man began to speak.

“The matter of today is not to determine the cause of Dr. Banner’s death nor is it meant to decide his intentions. Whether we believe he was right or wrong, the law was broken. It was established years ago, that any Omega must be turned over to authorities,” Steve was confident and precise, “Of course, we’ve never had to actually deal with that possible issue until now. There’s no point in wasting time. We’ll need a plan to keep Miss Y/L/N safe and then procedures in place in case another Omega is found. Miss Y/L/N’s surfacing gives hope for a promising future but we can’t deny that her presence will bring challenges.”

The conversation shifted to one that you no longer felt a part of. 

“What’s a sure way that an Omega remains protected?” One Senator asked. 

“A mate,” Another one answered. 

“Are you suggesting the government play matchmaker?” Senator Ochoa seemed to be one of the few not under Steve’s influence. 

“As Captain Rogers said before, Senator, a sole Omega will attract much unwanted attention. Having a mate, a physical bond, would provide the most protection,” You could feel Steve’s eyes on you although you couldn’t face him. You worried he’d gain the ability to control you with his eyes next.

You watched as a debate began between the Senators, some calling it blasphemous but too many suggestions involved sacrificing self interest for the greater good. You turned to Maria who seemed surprised by the direction of the conversation as well. She stood next and you mentally let out a breath of relief as you weren’t sure you could eloquently get your point across, “It must be her own choice of who her mate should be. Arranged matings are not the sort of precedent we want to set in this country.”

“I’m afraid this precedent has already been set, Agent Hill,” Senator Brinkley chimed in, “With the decline in new Omegas during the 60’s, arranged matings were very common and even arranged by local governments. I urge Miss Y/L/N to consider the incentives we’d be required to provide her for her trouble.”

“Her trouble? Money is not something that would compensate for any sort of emotional distress.”

“That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think? Ranked humans are meant to have mates. Omegas are born to be paired with Alphas. It’s in all of our natures.”

You saw Maria running into a dead end and your anxiety grew worse, “I hadn’t realized this was an ambush. I am moving that we schedule another meeting a few days from now. That way we can have more time-”

“Time is of the essence, Agent Hill,” Steve interrupted. 

“Captain Rogers is correct,” Senator Neal, the subcommittee chairman, made his final declaration, “We can arrange another meeting soon but the problem at hand must have a solution for now. We simply cannot take the chance of losing our last Omega. For the time being, Miss Y/L/N will be turned over to Captain Steve Rogers. As our most decorated military member and one of our highest ranking Alphas, I believe she’ll be in great care.” 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know-” You heard Maria say before you tuned out the world around you. 

Being one of the few Omegas, you thought you might be treated as less than but until now you hadn’t realized how true that would be. It was stupid to let the crowds and reporters fool you. They were watching you like an animal in the zoo because that’s exactly what you were now. 

When you tuned in again, a calloused hand had wrapped around your tiny one and you were standing in front of a flock of reporters. You looked up at Steve and he had the same confidence and seriousness in his look as he spoke to them. He’d probably have no problem convincing the public that this was the right choice. 

You had to walk fast to keep up with him. Maria was gone, you weren’t sure when you had lost her, but now you were surrounded by even more people that you didn’t know. At some point you were sitting in a car listening to Steve talk on the phone to what sounded like a news outlet. Then at another point you were being pulled out of a car and lifted into strong arms. You supposed Steve had gotten tired of your short legs. 

It was loud on the asphalt, you heard the whirring sound of the engine as you were carried closer to it. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, your head tilted into the side of his neck as you inhaled the most enticing scent, “The hard part is over, honey. You can relax now.” 

You ran to what you hoped was the bathroom once you awoke and saw that you were on TV. Your eyes were closed as you wretched but you could still see a scared little girl standing shyly next to the strongest soldier in the world. Why did you let him whisk you away when you could’ve stood up for yourself? Why could you not think for yourself at all when you touched him? 

When you finished vomiting into the toilet, you made your way over to the sink, and you saw a figure standing behind you as your eyes first opened again, “Your toothbrush is in the first drawer to the right. All your things are on the right side, mine on the left. The closets are organized the same way.” You opened the door and surely there was a pink, electric toothbrush. 

You truly got a chance to look at the bathroom which had tall ceilings, a fancy shower, his and hers sinks, and the impossibly clean mirror in front of you, “I don’t have any clothes,” You countered, adding toothpaste to the tip.

“I had a few things brought from Banner’s house and I had more purchased for you.”

You shifted, not having expected he would go as far to get you clothes you’d actually be comfortable in. You didn’t let that ease you, your stomach still feeling unsettled as you began to brush your teeth. Steve’s eyes stayed on you, watching you as if you might dust away at any moment. 

“I know it was scary being seen by all those people,” Steve said, leaning in the bathroom doorway. He almost looked unfamiliar in a black t-shirt and black sweatpants, “You represent something good, that’s all, that’s why people care so much.”

You spit the contents in your mouth into the sink, wiping your mouth as you turn off the water, “You knew how it would affect me but you caused it. Maria said that yesterday–”

“Two days ago, you’ve been asleep for awhile,” He corrected you. Your brows furrowed and you finally noticed the clothes you were wearing. A men’s plaid button up that went all the way down to your knees. 

You couldn’t possibly have slept for two days, “You keep using your stupid Alpha voice on me and now I’m losing track of time. The last thing I remember was getting on the plane. I feel like I’m losing my mind,” Your eyes were wide, panic setting in again.

“Y/N, you fell asleep because your body was exhausted and my touch allows for it to relax. You’re not losing your mind, I promise, just learning more about yourself.”

It didn’t make sense. You had no idea that Alpha’s had that power over Omegas, “That doesn’t change what you did. Maria said that the meeting was an ambush. You planned it. You knew what decision they were going to make.”

“Yes,” Steve nodded, “I pushed them in the correct direction.”

You shook your head, “I’d rather be back in the white box than here with you. I’d rather even be where Bruce is now. I hope you know that. Whatever little voice you use, or whoever I turn into when you touch me, that’s not who I am. I hate you.”

You were surprised to see him falter, to see anger threaten to show on his features, and you realized the noble man wasn’t always so stoic. 

He straightened himself, his arms still crossed across his chest as he came closer, “I don’t need to use my voice to control you, Y/N. And my voice is not going to be the reason that you’ll do exactly as I say from now on. Would you rather my touch be unkind to you? I can bend you over my lap and show you how unkind I can be. Do you under-”

You caught him by surprise again as you made a break for it, running around him and through the master bedroom. He was stronger but you were much smaller. You couldn’t outrun him but you could exercise what little control you had left. 

With tears stinging your eyes, your bare feet padded down a long wooden hallway until arriving at a staircase. Steve wasn’t running but you could hear his heavy steps behind you. You felt you were running through a museum as you began to look around at the decor. You were surrounded by traditional fixtures, moody colors, and a whole lot of war memorabilia. 

At the end of the stairs, you saw the front door and ran to turn the knob though it did not budge. You looked through the sidelights, noting that the home you were in was in the middle of a cul de sac and you saw rows of identical looking houses all the way in the distance.

 “Y/N!” You kept moving. Steve sounded more annoyed than angry now as he followed you through the kitchen’s swinging doors. You stopped in your tracks, meeting eyes with three people, a woman who was cutting vegetables on a cutting board, a woman who was wiping down a dining table, and a young guy in overalls installing something near the back door.”

You felt Steve’s hand on your shoulder, “Sorry, guys. Y/N desperately wanted a tour. Y/N, this is our chef, Cynthia. Our housekeeper, Amy. And Andrew is taking care of some things around the house, helping us get settled in.”

It looked like he was installing a similar security device to the back door. 

It was your turn to say something as both Amy and Cynthia gave you warm smiles. The only thoughts crossing your mind pertained to Steve’s hands on your shoulder, “Will you both be having lunch in the dining room?” Cynthia asked.

“No, just have it sent up in about … an hour,” Steve responded, “Thank you.”

Steve was leading you out of the kitchen and, as soon as you were out of their sites, you were thrown over his shoulder. You expected a cool remark but Steve was quiet as he carried you back up to the room. 

He set you on your feet, only to keep his promise by bending you over his lap. He’d sat at the edge of the bed, pinning your arms to your side as he held your body as close as possible. He only had to lift the shirt a small bit to completely expose your body.

“Cynthia and Amy will help us for our first weeks together. Your first real heat will come soon and we’ll need to be together, they’ll be able to keep the house together,” You squirmed as his fingers caressed the back of your thighs, threatening to dip into the gap between your parted legs, “When your heat is much more managed, or when your belly wells up with my child, you’ll take on those duties of maintaining the house. A military base is not where I want us to live forever but it will do for the time being.”

He’d thought all of this over, most likely in great detail, he’d had a chance to process it and he expected that you’d do the same. Still, he gave you little time to panic over that impending doom as he began to lay hard slaps against the bare skin of your bottom. 

You screamed, thinking that maybe one of the people downstairs would come to your aid but your hopes weren’t high for long, “Please!” You begged, although you soon grew embarrassed by your own crying, letting the comforting muffle your voice. You didn’t want anyone to rescue you. You didn’t want anyone to know you’d been spanked like a disobedient child as an adult. 

“Tell me you’ll be good for me, baby.”

There was no Alpha voice and there was even a sweet mention of a pet name yet this was the most threatened you felt to obey. 

“Yes! O-Okay,” You stuttered, choking on a cough.

“Repeat it back to me, Y/N.”

“I’ll b-be good for you, S-Steve,” You could finally catch your breath when he stopped. When he stopped, you didn’t even move yourself, you didn’t even attempt to cover yourself. Steve was the one who lifted you, laying you gently at the edge of the bed with your bottom up.

You laid there motionless, hearing Steve walk away to the bathroom, but your eyes were fixed on the master bedroom door. This would be a bigger cage and you doubted that you wouldn’t feel trapped here like Steve had promised. 

The bed dipped beside you and you cringed and squirmed as you felt his hand on your bottom again. He shushed you, holding your upper arm to keep you in place as he lotioned a cool substance over the raw skin. 

Steve wiped your tears, pushing the hair from your face in order to admire you more closely. You looked even more beautiful with your wet stained cheeks and he loved the way your eyelashes laid against your cheeks when your eyes were closed. 

“Please don’t do that again,” Steve heard you whisper. He grabbed your chin and your eyes fluttered open again. You looked at him in a way he hadn’t noticed before, like you were seeing him for the first time. 

Steve didn’t want to argue with you anymore, knowing he could get his point across more clearly with you when he was physical. He brought his lips toward your hesitant ones. Steve knew you wouldn’t pull away, your body wouldn’t let you run away from that sort of pleasure, and he deepened it further. 

This wasn’t his first kiss since the 40’s but it sure felt like something new. Steve held your hips and he could sense you get overwhelmed by your wandering hands. He wanted to feel all of you although he knew he’d have to avoid your bottom after his cruel handiwork. He caressed your back, your thighs, and made his way to the back of your neck. He held you in his strong grip, keeping your lips tight against his as he moved his against yours. 

His stubble brushed against your skin, tickling you as his lips moved to your neck. 

Steve kissed and sucked on your neck and moans and mewls fell from your lips. Steve could tell you were extra sensitive there and it sparked his curiosity. He made it his new mission to find the most sensitive parts of your body, the ones that made your body writhe with pleasure, and one day he’d torture you slowly by focusing on each one. 

Steve had to feel between your legs, had to taste and smell you. You were to be his mate, he was the only one to have you in this way, and he’d relish every moment of your first time. He teased your clit with his pointer finger. You closed your legs, an attempt to hide away but he was stronger, “Give yourself to me,” He rasped against your throat, “Or I’ll take it.”

You were already soaking the comforter and Steve heard your words becoming practically incoherent, “I … please … I …so-so … “

Steve pressed your front into the mattress, deciding to take his place behind you, his commanding hands lifting your hips into the air. Your ass was still sore and Steve could feel your fear that he would hurt you again but all you felt was the lips that were just on yours dipping between your legs. He lapped at you furiously, his tongue dipping inside you, licking up and down before it swirled around your sensitive bud.

You moaned into the comforter and Steve rubbed his hard member through his sweatpants. Normally, he might’ve kissed you longer, massaged you longer, or waited until you had a few more orgasms against his tongue but he had to be inside his little Omega. 

After he gave you your first orgasm, Steve revealed his cock, wasting no time sheathing himself inside of you. 

It felt right, although your body was so much smaller, it was the perfect fit. You’d never done this before but your body was ready, you accepted him with a little bit of easing, “There you go, honey, you’re doing so good,” Your head turned to the side, Steve watched your eyes roll back as he went deep inside of you. 

He slowly pressed your hips back down against the mattress, moving in and out of you with ease. He felt every time you tightened around his cock, your body releasing all the tension beneath your skin. Steve removed his t-shirt, beginning to break a sweat although he still had a lot left within him.

“Does that feel good, baby?” He asked, going harder. 

“Don’t stop,” Was your response which made him smile.

“Ask me politely,” Steve slowed his pace, teasing you.

“Please don’t stop,” You spoke quickly and he could tell you were close to convulsing again, “Please, Steve.”

“Good, Omega,” Steve went harder again, knowing you went crazy when he pulled himself all the way out and shoved himself deeper again, “Good girl.”

“Thank you,” You mewled, “I’m your good girl.”

It wasn’t long before your words coaxed him into his own orgasm. He felt his own sense of euphoria as he released inside you, feeling your warm walls around him until his body allowed him to relax. Steve laid beside your shaking body, caressing your back as he pressed his nose into your hair.

“I’m your good girl?” He heard you whisper and he now realized how much his words meant to you. You wanted his reassurance when you were within your most vulnerable state. He knew you were wrong before in saying this side of you was not the real you. 

“Yes,” Steve kissed your shoulder, “You’re my good little girl. Forever, honey.”

part two

#dark!steve rogers #black!reader #steve rogers x black!reader #dark steve rogers x reader #mcu smut #dark fics #bucky barnes #maria hill #alpha omega #alpha/beta/omega AU #a/b/o universe #avengers a/b/o

[nickfowlerrr]

keeping secrets - chapter seven

series masterlist / chapter eight

playlist

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader (dark!soulmate au)

warnings: short chapter. no explicit smut but it’s there a lil bit. +18 only, as always. a lot of this is from bucky’s pov. angst with a hint of fluff. mostly angst though. and this isn’t even the tip of the iceberg for these two 🥲

words: 1.9k

notes: i’m belaboring it, i’m sorry lol but thank you for bearing with me through my bouts of writers block. i appreciate all of you who are following this series and reading and commenting and reblogging, you’re all wonderful and i love you. hopefully this will help kick me back into gear. please let me know what you think, and again, thank you for reading and reblogging. 🖤

It’s still dark outside when Bucky jerks awake again in a cold sweat.

His heart is racing and his breathing is heavy.

He takes a second to collect himself before he peeks up to the bed from where he lays on the ground. He runs a hand through his hair as he calms down at just the sight of you, still sleeping peacefully, sprawled out on the mattress you’d both fallen asleep on just a few hours ago.

He’d woken up earlier from another nightmare, not one of the usual ones, but the one that’s been recurring more and more frequently since the day he’d met you..

No matter how he tries to change the dream, it always ends the same.

Nothing but hurt, pain, and tears.

He tries so hard to change it, wants nothing more than to save you from the inevitable heartbreak that waits for you both, but it’s futile.

Pointless.

It’s his fate, and by some sick twist of it, you’ve unfortunately found yourself tied to him, which can only mean the same for you.

But the nightmare isn’t reality, he tells himself. It may be unchanging in the dream, but he can’t let that happen in his waking life.

He won’t.

He spent a good ten minutes just holding you in his arms, watching the rise and fall of your chest with each breath you took as your lashes fluttered in your sleep and you nuzzled into his embrace, before he gently moved you off of him. He wanted to commit the sight of you so at ease to his memory, taking in your every feature and letting himself indulge in the feeling of your softness pressed against him. In that moment, he told himself he could never have you so close to him again. The list of reasons why seemed never ending.

And though being with you earlier was incredible, words he couldn’t manage to find to describe the perfection that was you and the deep intimacy you shared - something he doesn’t think he’s ever felt before - something he’s sure he’ll never feel with anyone else, he knows he can’t do this. Not to you.

You deserve the world. A happy ending. And he wishes so badly that he could be the one to give it to you - no matter how selfish the desire is - but he can’t.

A happy ending has never been in the cards for him.

And he won’t keep that from you.

Still, that selfish itch is there, clawing at his chest and filling his head with impossible fantasies.

As he sits there, he wonders, though, just how long he’ll be able to keep away from you - even just physically. Your touch alone.. It’s indescribable.

He wishes he could let himself be next to you right now.

He counted himself lucky for not having woken you up after the first nightmare, but couldn’t risk it happening again. He had moved to the floor and listened to the steady sound of your heartbeat to ease him until he eventually fell asleep again.

Until now.

This nightmare, thankfully, wasn’t involving you.

It was the cold.

That chair.

Those words.

The excruciating, violent pain.

He’s glad he moved, there’s no way you wouldn’t have felt his twitching in his sleep if he was still next to you.

No way you would’ve had the dream to begin with if you were still next to her.

His brows furrow as he grows agitated at the thought. He gives it no further attention, though, as he sits up.

Maybe it’s early enough to excuse being awake, he thinks as he pulls himself off the floor.

He looks over at you once again and his heart clenches, wanting him to just crawl back into bed with you and sleep until you decide it’s time to get up.

But he can’t listen.

So he heads quietly out into the cold of the cabin and goes to find his phone.

—-

The bed is cold when you wake up. The cabin is quiet. Only one thought is on your mind as you come to consciousness.

Where is Bucky?

There’s a tight squeeze in your chest as you take in your loneliness. A surge of anxiety that grips you though you try not to give it attention. You sit up and look around the empty room.

You get up and peek out the door, down the hallway.

You head to the bathroom instead of seeking him out for now, quickly getting ready for the day.

As you come out, you hear the front door open and close.

When you walk into the living room, you find a sweaty Bucky pulling his shirt off.

“Hey,” you breathe, leaning against the hallway opening, arms crossed over your chest lightly.

His eyes shoot to you, and you watch as it takes him a second to respond.

“Hey,” he responds a little out of breath.

You give a half smile as you return his unwavering stare. Pushing off the wall, you saunter over to him. Bucky doesn’t stop you as you lean up to kiss him.

Somewhere in his mind, he is telling himself to stop. But the thoughts aren’t loud enough for him to listen.

He leans down and kisses you back, deeply as his hands find your bottom.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing as one kiss turns into two, turns into three, and before he knows it you’re breathing each other’s air as his tongue explores your mouth while you’re making out on the couch.

He knows he’s sweaty but you don’t seem to care in the slightest as you refuse to let up just the same as him.

He isn’t sure how much time has passed when you finally pull away, breathing heavy as you catch your breath.

You look at him in a way that makes him feel seen. Truly seen. The warmth of your gaze - the love it radiates - it’s something he never wants to lose.

But his heart hurts at your next words - a sense of panic taking over him.

“We should talk,” you say softly, moving a strand of hair out of his face, your soft touch caressing his cheek as you admire him for a moment.

You should talk. He knows that. But he knows exactly what’s going to happen when you do.

He doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want this to end so soon. He doesn’t want to lose you so soon after finally being with you. He doesn’t want to hurt you - though he knows no matter what, he will…

“Yeah,” he breathes before leaning back into you. His lips are on yours again, softer as he takes his time, leaning you to lay down on the couch as he holds himself above you.

It’s as much a distraction for himself as it is for you.

With Bucky above you, you let your hands find his hair as you kiss him back.

But it’s not just a kiss - it’s so much more.

Everytime you touch, it’s like a wordless confession of devotion.

Unlike anything you’d ever experienced. And it’s addictive.

You pull him closer, urging him down until he’s nearly right on top of you. A hand slips from his hair and softly trails along his neck, down his chest and stomach until you tug at the waistband of his shorts.

He exhales gruffly as his eyes shut - a second passes as you watch him, perplexed at the look that crosses his face. Briefly unsettling until he opens his eyes and looks at you. Mesmerizing as always, full of longing.

Your clothes are lost as you fumble with each other, touching and yearning; kisses broken off with gasps - each deep thrust of Bucky inside you working you closer and closer to the high that seems to never end as you beg him not to stop, as if he had any plans to.

He can’t get enough, and you’re both insatiable.

—-

You aren’t sure how much time has passed when you’re both laid out on the ground, panting and sweating as Bucky pulls you into him. You’re a dripping, overstimulated mess as you curl into him, feeling full and sated, yet wanting him ever closer.

The comfort he effortlessly exudes relaxes you further as your lashes flutter while you start to regulate your breaths.

“I’m a mess,” you mumble as you nuzzle into him. “You’ve ruined me.”

His fingers are lightly dancing along your soft skin, but his movements stop at your words. You look up to see his face as you let out a quiet titter. He looks guilty, like he’s agonizing over it. Your stomach twists as your arms hug him tighter instinctively.

“I was just kidding,” you murmur with a small smile. “We should shower, though. Did you hear from anyone? Are we cleared to go back today?”

His eyes are trained on you when you meet his gaze again before he blinks, securing you closer to him again. “Haven’t heard yet. Not sure that bodes well for us.”

“I don’t know… another day alone out here doesn’t sound too bad,” you say, lips ghosting his neck as you curl into his warmth.

“Yeah,” he breathes through a twinge in his chest.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He wants to stay here, just like this, forever. Just him and you. No need for things to end.

But he knows better. Or so he keeps telling himself.

The truth is, the moment you guys leave here, you’ll have to leave all of this with you.

He just got you close. He can’t force this ending so soon, he can’t.

It’s selfish and come tomorrow will probably be even more painful, but he needs you. For as long as he can have you, he will.

You pull away from him with a kiss to his cheek, “‘M gonna call Stark. Warm up the shower for me?”

“Yeah,” he answers in a trance as you let your hand slip across his stubbly jaw, watching you stand and saunter off to get your phone. “Anything,” he almost let slip before catching himself, “anything for you.” The sentiment may not pass his lips, but it echos deep in his chest nonetheless. A heavy, gripping truth he couldn’t deny if he wanted to.

—-

You’re drying off, trying not to let how wobbly your legs are at the moment be too noticeable as Bucky gets dressed near the bed. You feel his eyes on you every five seconds, so you know he’ll notice the second you give yourself away.

Your phone dings on the side table, catching both of your attentions.

You open the screen to find a message from Stark. He had said he’d get back to you as soon as he knew if you were good to go or not.

Departure at 16:30 tomorrow night. Sorry, but try not to kill each other. We’ll see you back at the compound.

And job well done, by the way.

“16:30 tomorrow,” you say aloud, glancing to Bucky who is already looking at you. “Got a little over 24 hours to kill… what ever shall we do?”

#keeping secrets series #bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x curvy!reader #bucky x plus size reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes series #keeping secrets #bucky x avenger!reader #bucky barnes x avenger!reader #dark!soulmate au #grey!bucky #bucky barnes x plus size!reader

[fang-venkas]

Asgardian twitter (circa 2011):

#no cause imagine being a regular Asgardian citizen and seeing and hearing of the events of Thor 1 the avengers n tdw as they go down #I’d be like?? #lol #loki #Thor 1 #Thor 2011 #the avengers 2012 #thor the dark world #social media au #I guess #og loki

[tabubranku]

I wanted something unusual)

#loki #loki fanart #loki layfeson #loki series #hollow crown #henry 5 #henry v #marvel #the avengers #fanart #digiral art #crossover #loki marvel #AU #mcu #tom hiddleston #loki odinson #I like how dark Loki and light Henry look together #I LOVE this red cape

[prettyinpink350]

Clean/is it over now?

This whole story was basically inspired by clean, is it over now, now that we don’t talk, wonderland, style, basically the whole 1989 album, all too well 10 version, and illicit affairs

Can you tell I love Taylor Swift? 🤭

Nomad grey! Soft dark! Steve rogers x reader. Cheating!!!! Angst!!!! Depressed reader, tony dying. The time line if messed up do t do the math I already tried lol. Reader is Tony Starks, daughter, but race or looks are not described. 

Seeing his blue eyes in the forefront of your mind was haunting. you couldn’t get clean off of him His whispers had changed every muscle in your body to love him and only him. Was it over when she laid down on your couch was it over when he unbuttoned your blouse? Was it over then and is it over now? The question you asked every night, or when you walked in every room that held the blondes with love eyes. Your scorned young body, a solider returning half her weight, the blue muse hidden from view hurting from seeing the flashing lights as he showcased her to all.

Steve Rogers was your first lover, only 18, and somehow the family friend since your early teen years was gone and replaced with a man of love and stolen kisses. His hands fire, his lips held unfished unspoken ‘I love yous’. If your love is over, why do you wait? Why do you hide in your hidden places he took you so no one could hear your sweet nothing relationship and moans. Why are you still writing pages about a love story that has ended?

You remember the tension in the last years before the full out. His smile on your 18th birthday, him slow dancing with you, everyone at the party drunk or too blinded by the American dream to notice he was more then a family friend or uncle Steve, your father's co-worker and avenger. Blushing in arms, your teenage heart bursting in shy looks away from the man holding your waist. Then by next celebration, Only ever held hands with a boy and suddenly a lover, what an unexpected transition for an 19 year old girl. Never knowing how love worked nor how cruel his could be.

Now 25 never had another lover, the habit for you never left, still lost in wonderland though he was lost in anothers. Trying to find a cure, to bring dust to people, standing in a room with the rest of (what's left of) the Avengers brings acid up your throat. The secret too big to share with your father and how his old best friend broke your heart, it ate you alive for lying, dying. Dying feeling like the world's worst daughter, watching him sacrifice himself while whispering to you how much he loved you was the ground falling underneath what made your sky.

Steve picking your crumpled body off the ground crying at your father's asleep feet to forgive you for your secrets. Sobbing into the man you loved and hated, hated for leaving you scared and confused during the civil war. You sat at home heartbroken praying he was okay and that he would just sign the damn papers, that your father didn't kill him, while he made out with Sharon Carter. Pounding on his chest screaming at him to let you go, you struggled in his arms while he tried to calm you down.

You yelling at him that it was all his fault, only the two of you knowing what you meant.

After that you didn't talk to him, what was really left of the Avengers lives in the compound and so does Steve's new finance, the younger blonde, who giggles like you did, he’s not afraid to tell people he loves her. The pain mixed in with love unrequited.

A mission in the tall mountains was the reopening of the love affair, you think of jumping off every tall somethings just to see if he comes running, but no.

“I’ve missed you” he spoke to you leaning on the kitchen island, you sitting at the dinner table eating soup, you ignored him. “y/n”

“Let's leave the past where it belongs,” you said

“Babygirl please” Steve pushed himself off the counter, pulling your chair away from the table, now squatting in front of you. His hands holding yours.

“You’re engaged, we shouldn’t requel our relationship now, and I can't even look at you without wanting you” you admitted softly to him looking down at your lap where your hands and his lay.

“I still love you y/n, and I know I left. I know I should have come back to you baby. I’m a sick man but your my love baby and I can't see you love me everyday while I pretend she's you.”

“No, do you think I didn't see you, there was flashing lights at least I had the decency to keep my nights out of sight, were we over when you kissed Sharon? You try and find something better in every girl's bed-.”

Steve kissed you deeply cutting you off, his hands moved to your shoulders pulling you closer. You kissed him back, the feeling different from the innocent love, that the devil he was truly letting himself mask in it.

His arms wrapped around your waist, and your legs wrapped around his. He took you to bed, naked bodies meeting again. His thrusts drove moans out of you like no other.

“You're still my baby, c'mon I’m still your Stevie” his words kissed your skin. “Say it, say you're still mine, I’m still your daddy” he demanded his thrusts becoming harder.

“I-i love you Daddy” you squeaked out Steve smiling at your words knowing he still had you after all these years.

“Don't you ever take away my baby again. You’re my baby.” after his words, you moaned loudly your face buried in between his neck and shoulder. Cumming full force.

“That's it babygirl, cum for me.”

Steve and you laid down still naked in each other's arms, feeling his warmth.

“We’re staying here, I'm not going back to her,” he spoke sternly

“What?” you replied back, pulling away so you could see his face.

“We’re stayin’ here, we’re gonna build a family and I’m not letting you out of my sight again baby. You’re mine. I love you” Steve said still stern but with a dark look in his eyes.

“I’ve watched you hurt and be alone far too long, I've saved the world for you, killed for you, wanted you… Say it back y/n”

“I-i love you, Stevie”

10 months older, a baby five months in. You can't quit, you can't say you got clean. 10 months older now he can admit there was no mission just a trick to get you back.

#steve rogers angst #dark steve #steve rogers au #dark steve rogers x reader #dark captain america #captain america au #avengers endgame #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x stark!reader

[darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor]

All the Good Girls Go To Hell Masterlist

Summary: You come home for the summer but your break is not as relaxing as you expect. (Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers)

Status: In Progress

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Part 15

Part 16

Part 17

Part 18

Part 19

Part 20

Part 21

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #mcu #marvel #captain america #winter soldier #avengers #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au

[foxgloveprincess]

Hi! I'm obsessed with your Avengers Pantheon stuff... I thought I'd check on Steve and Bucky today... How are they and their captive lil pet doing?

Thank you so much! Steve and Bucky are doing quite well. Their pet? She’s adapting.

A Little Ficlet for Another Taste of Devouring Rush

Warnings: Dark (Soft Dark Stucky), Medieval(ish) AU, Polytheistic/Pagan Beliefs, Mythology, Yandere Behavior, Obsession, Possessiveness, Endless Hallways, Invisible Servants, Captivity (she calls them her masters), Dubious Consent, Smut (Vaginal Penetration, Nipple Play, suggestion of Somnophilia), Innocence Kink, Pet Names (sweet, blossom). Minors do not interact (18+).

What is morning when the sun and moon don’t rise upon the horizon? Without time, I cannot know for how long I’ve been kept. From the moment I wake to the moment I sleep, my life stretches endlessly. 

I rise from the cushion of my bed. No ache, no pain. Only memories illuminated in my mind’s eye, finding their brethren in previous passions. My masters, the Righteous Captain and the Freed Soldier, meticulous in their endeavor of pleasure. Three bodies joining over and over in writhing lust and satisfaction. My purity plundered. Drunk on joy, lust, bliss. A divine communion of worship and reverence shared between mouths and tongues and bodies. Until I succumb to exhaustion and the cycle begins again like the seasons. 

My feet weave a path about columns, naked body no shame. My previous life in The Broken Beast dispelled me of such notions long ago. But now, as I wander, phantom hands drape silk over my frame. A luxurious fabric unblemished by the touch of mortal man. 

The servants covering my modesty spirits upon the breeze. Invisible to the eye, yet attentive to my every step, providing anything required by my whims or their judgement. They clothe me in fine garments, a protection of my virtue. They provide a tray of food and drink upon a small table, an offering for my strength. My indulgence their design. 

I sigh and turn down another corridor. However time passes in the Land Beyond, I spend it wandering the halls of the vast castle of my masters. Every inch of space bedecked in opulence, art and offerings dazzling the eye. To think of my attempt to appeal to them, a simple sachet full of herbs, a shard of glass and a pebble, so paltry in comparison. When true masterpieces line their walls and stretch to the highest heights. Beyond what the eye can see and hidden by clouds. No ceiling to limit the display of grandeur and beauty. 

My fingers pluck a morsel from a tray, a bite of boar dripping with black sauce. Another bite passes my lips before I continue on, weaving through familiar passageways and exploring my grand prison. Kept inside, I do not even know whether anything exists without. The crash of the river upon its shore my only indication of something beyond these walls. 

With a turn down another passage and another, I pick up a new piece of boar to consume. My fingers stick with the sweet, spiced sauce left by my grazing. An echo of my name floats upon a breeze. A kiss of wind brushes against my cheek as I turn to greet my caller. A hand wraps about my wrist and draws me back. 

I fall against a sturdy chest. Plush lips wrap about my sticky fingers. A hum rumbles in their throat. 

“Hello, my sweet,” Steve greets from behind. My head turns to return the address, his shoulder leaning against the wall. A smile tilts his lips, his form relaxed and hands upon his belt. My other master, James, holds me in the cradle of his arms, tongue dancing over my fingertips. 

The Soldier pulls back, releasing my wrist to let my hand fall limp at my side. “We missed you.” 

“Did you miss us?” Steve asks, prompting a reply in their favor. 

“Of course,” I demure. My bones engrained with the graces of my training. I spin to greet James readily, wrapping my arms about his neck and cooing sweetly as he buries his face in the crook of mine. “I was trying to bide my time by searching for the gardens.”

The affection borne of our lingering connection, unable to stifle my true feelings toward the lords behind the curtain, the men before me now. Still my captors, murderers. Swept away by them, forced to abandon my family for their safety. Everything falling to their feet, nothing restrained. A mistake, Melinda once said, not to keep something for myself. I thought myself unable to forgive them their many crimes. Until I did.

Steve stalks forward, pushing away from the wall, and tucks a finger beneath my chin to meet my eye. 

“Gardens?” 

“Or perhaps the riverside?” I continue on smooth, dulcet tones, “with all the beauty surrounding you here, I only thought it might be just as lovely.”

“There’s nothing for you outside our walls,” James grumbles against my skin. His arms pressing tighter, a remonstrance. 

“What he means,” Steve says at the mournful tilt of my brow and the hitch of my breath, “is that outside our home, we cannot protect you. You would be vulnerable to any passing beast.” 

“Oh.” The sound whooshes past my lips on a disappointed sigh. “I understand.” 

Steve’s lips capture mine, an indulgent kiss. I sink into him, knees weak from his attentions. He pulls a breath away to suggest, “Let us take your mind away from such distracting thoughts.” 

His whisper shivers down my spine and ignites fiery passion between my thighs. The lick of temptation leaving me defenseless against them. I meet the Captain’s piercing gaze and nod. Ready, as ever, to yield to their insatiable appetites. 

James entwines his fingers with mine, palms kissing as he leads me down the hallway. Around only one corner, and we stand before my room. The corridors twisting and reforming to hasten our trek. Miraculous and astounding.

The door stands open. Just as I left it. Lace and the thinnest gossamer draped from the ceiling. Cushions line the floor. Colorful lanterns sparkle above. A fanciful world imitating the nights I sat behind my curtain enticing the eye of suitors, my virginity Aida’s prized gem. 

Kisses trail over my neck and shoulders. Two sets of lips forging their own paths across my flesh. I seek their touches in turn. Fingers carding through hair and soft sounds spilling past my lips. The fabric covering my frame puddling on the floor. Whisked away from my feet by phantom hands. 

My masters lead me to my bed, guiding my body to recline upon the plush cushion. Their devotion floods my body until I drown. The pinching pain of my deflowering forgotten in the heady rush that consumes. Their love an endless wave that does not recede. Their touch a scorching fire. 

Sweat dots my skin. Lips parted on hungry breaths. Eyelids fluttering with euphoria. Steve parts me around his glorious cock and fills me to my limit. James’s hands plucking at the tender buds of my breasts. I moan and writhe between their bodies. Flush with their warmth. Defiled and debauched, exhaustion tickles at the border of my consciousness. My nails bite into their flesh, dragging myself away from the tempting precipice of slumber. 

“Rest,” Steve croons into my ear, a kiss trailing my cheekbone to my lips. His hips continuing their exquisite drive. 

My head tips back, another wave of ecstasy rushing through my veins. I choke on a gasping cry. Hips bucking in tandem with those plundering my body. 

“We will tend to you as you sleep, dear blossom,” James promises. 

His sweet words lull me deep into the darkness. My eyes close and I nestle into their embrace. Their hands and lips and pleasure continuing, even as I am lost to them. A new cycle dawning in my eternal existence.

#stucky x reader #steve rogers x bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #medieval au #mythology au #polytheistic au #dark #dark fic #dub con #tw dub con #the avengers pantheon #✨rachel replies✨ #brasspistol

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 24

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: friday! coworkers last day!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You pass through the gate, cautious to close it without a noise. You trail past the hedges and around the side of the house. You enter through the back, as you did in those early days, only weeks ago, though it seems years.

You move slowly, leaving your shoes out of the way, disregarding the closet as you cling to the strap of your bag and venture warily onward. You pause before the kitchen door and peek around, finding it empty. You tiptoe on and climb the stairs one at a time, flinching at ever creak.

You reach the top and keep your eyes down. You go to the library and slip inside, like a ghost floating through your own existence. You set the bag by your feet and pull out the laptop to begin your day.

You don't think, not past the list of tasks. You boot the computer and wait for the screen to light up. You type in the pass code and open Excel. You lean your head in your hand, eyes glazing over as the glare sears your vision, stamping with endless columns and tiny numbers.

You feel yourself slumping, the strength whittling away by the second. Your eyes droop even as your ears prick at each noise. You shake your head, trying to ward off the needling fatigue. You yawn and sit up, rubbing your eyelids as you square your shoulders.

You let your head hang back and drop your arms into your lap. Your stomach wriggles as Mr. Laufeyson's looming presence creeps into your mind. He's here somewhere and surely, he already knows you are too. He's just waiting to pounce. 

Your fears furl into faded dreams. A fractured series of scenes, twisted reflections of reality rippling into each other until you dizzy. You can hear your own snores yet don't quite realise you're asleep.

You wake with a start as you feel yourself slipping. You barely catch yourself before you flop off the chair. You spasm and grip the arm rest as a shadow lurks behind your laptop screen. You gape up at Mr. Laufeyson as he watches you with arms folded.

"Hm," he tilts his head, "that shirt is... not very professional."

"Sir," you keep your face down as your cheek thrums, swollen and bruised, "I'm sorry, I... I didn't sleep very well."

"Oh yes, of course, I hadn't even mentioned you sleeping on the job," he growls and uncrosses his arms, bringing his hands down to the desk. He leans in so his head is just above the laptop. "Look at me."

"Mr. Laufeyson, I'm just sorting out the expenses--"

"Look at me," he commands more firmly.

You wince and rub your neck. An ache radiates in your shoulder, another remnant of your father's wrath. You slowly raise your chin as your lip twitches just slightly. His eyes narrow and his jaw ticks.

He's silent as he stares at you. Angry, you can tell. You pull your hands back and fold them against your chest.

"Please, Mr. Laufeyson, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep. It won't happen again--"

"What happened to your clothes?" He slithers darkly.

"Nothing, I... I wasn't paying attention this morning--"

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm not," you squeak unconvincingly.

His nostrils flare and he slaps his palm on the desk. You sit back, pressing yourself to the chair as you whimper.

"I underestimated that... scum," he spits out.

"I don't know--"

"Go on and lie again. What is it this time? You took a tumble?" He reaches out and you shy away, expecting him to put another swell in your cheek. Instead, he touches the thrumming skin, stroking it, "I didn't think..." he takes a breath and withdraws his hand, standing stiffly, "I believed him a coward, but not that sort."

"It's not--"

"Hush. You make your excuse for him, I will not swallow them," he flicks his fingers at you dismissively.

He rolls his shoulders and pivots on his heel. He paces across the patterned rug and stops, just before the sofa. He turns back, making another line across the space. He brings his finger up to tap his chin.

"Yes, very well, I see I do have somewhere to be," he states as he drops his hand, his lips curving at the corners. 

"Mr. Laufeyson," you stand.

"Never you mind," he tuts, "you have your work, I have mine." He cracks his knuckles.

"Are you--"

"Ah ah," he points at you tersely, "since when is my itinerary your concern? Mind the house, that is your job." He huffs and checks his watch as a pinch lines his forehead, "you may receive the expected parcel and leave it on my desk for now..." he lowers his hand and grumbles, "and you will stay here."

"Mr. Laufeyson," you murmur.

Before you can protest further, he's at the door. You're frozen in disbelief. Surely he can't mean what you think.

It doesn't matter to him, does it? You are his house manager, just another below him he can torment, he wouldn't do anything like that. Certainly, he won't harm your father, right?

You rush after him as your doubts bubble over. As he enters the hallway, you grab his elbow, not thinking, not hesitating for once in your life. "Please, Mr. Laufeyson, whatever you're thinking of--"

He faces you and rips his arm free, "don't."

"Please, it's-- I--" you sputter helplessly and wring your hands, "I deserved it."

He squares his chin and blinks. "Deserve... so it was him?"

"Mr. Laufeyson, it isn't... isn't your problem. He's my dad, I'll deal with him."

"As you have so far?" He scoffs, "pet, I mean to defend you. To do you a favour. Another. And now you overstep and try to command me?"

"No, no, I'm not... not commanding. I'm begging," you clutch your hands tighter, putting them up to plead, "don't make it worse."

He dips his head and closes his eyes. He pinches his nose and gives a nod, rubbing his lips together. He raises his head and opens his eyes again. He shrugs and lets a grin break through.

"It isn't your choice," he grabs your wrists, locking them together in his grasp as he drags you forward.

Your socks slip on the floorboards as he tugs you down the hallway. You struggle, writhing and sliding against his force. The same panic that struck you last night swirls again, thumping in your chest. He turns and swings you through the door of his bedroom. You stagger as he lets you go and the door swiftly snaps shut behind you.

You turn to face it and throw yourself against it, twisting the handle as you try to pull it open. He holds it shut from the other side and you hear the lock grind into place. You hit the door with your fists and cry out.

"Mr. Laufeyson!"

"I will return shortly, pet, never you worry," he assures, "don't miss me too much."

You slap the wood again and press your ear to it. You listen as he struts away, whistling until it fades to silence. You hear the front door below, shortly followed by the car engine rolling to life. You rush over to the window and look at as he steers up to the gate.

You can hear his knuckles cracking and see that sinister smirk. His intentions cannot be good.

✨

Your exhaustion slakes away to panic. You pace the room, bounce up and down on your feet, fidget incessantly, murmuring senselessly. You just can't be still. What is Mr. Laufeyson doing?

Your fears twist your imagination to terror. Is he going to hurt your father? He should just leave him alone. He's the one who got him so worked up. That last thought makes you stop short.

It's his fault. It's all his fault. He heard everything on the phone, he knew your dad has anger issues, he walked into your home and he ruined it all. 

Your lashes flutter as you sway. You feel like you've been struck all over again. Mr. Laufeyson has done this all to you! He gave you this job, he took you away from your dad, he invaded your home, he made you wear those clothes. 

And now, you're mad. You feel that hot streak inside of you unlike anything before. Vivid and venomous. You run to the door, throwing yourself against it as you beat with your fists. 

He's locked you up here so you can't stop him from doing anymore. You're sleeping in a hotel because of him. You're not eating or sleeping, you can feel yourself going insane. Because of him.

You're dizzy and breathless. You lean on the door and try to calm yourself. Your head hurts.

You slide down and turn to put your back against the door. You hang your head, bending your legs to rest your arms over them. You heave and close your eyes.

You're just as helpless as you've ever been.

✨

The footsteps bring you out of your daze. You raise your head, wobbly on your neck, and blink several times before you get your bearings. You listen to Mr. Laufeyson's entry, his slow advance below, and his steady ascension up the staircase.

Your heart hitches but you don't move. Even if you had the strength, you refuse. You will not budge.

He comes down the staircase, a hum in the air. You tense and grit your teeth, eyes hot again with tears. Not sad but angry.

"Ah, pet, you will be happy to hear that I don't believe your father will have another cruel world reserved for you," he sings the handle shifts slightly above your head and the lock clicks. "How shall we celebrate your emancipati--"

The door jolts and you push back against it. You plant your feet and grunt as you force it shut. He lets out a noise and shoves back. You do it again.

"Pet," he evens his tone, "what are you up to?"

"Leave me alone!" You snarl, surprised by your own venom.

"Pet, now, let me in--"

"I said go away!"

He scoffs and stops pushing. He lets out his breath loudly.

"This isn't mature behaviour."

"I don't care, I don't want to see you."

He's quiet again. You hear his soles scuff and he gently taps on the door.

"Pet, please, we should talk. I think it's imperative that we do--"

"No, I don't want to talk. I don't want to see you. I want you to leave me alone!"

"You are being a child--"

"You ruined everything," you bark, "you ruined my life! You're a bad man and I hate you!"

You go weak as the last words escape you without a thought. You collapse onto your bottom and catch your head in your hands. You devolve into thick, choking sobs. Here you are, bawling like the child he calls you. He must be amused.

"Are you tendering your resignation?" He asks crisply, "because I believe you haven't anywhere else to go, my dear."

"I know! Because of you. I have nowhere, because you!" You shoot back through heaving breaths.

"Or... you could have somewhere, because of me," he says measuredly. "Pet, all you have to do is open the door and talk to me."

You fall onto your side and curl up. You cover your head, whimpering as tears trickle down. You sniffle and hide under your arm. Just like you did when dad wouldn't stop yelling. 

The floorboards shift and he sighs again, "I can wait." He taps the door lightly once more and his footfalls retreat.

You tremble in a heap, nearly delirious with emotion. Through the chaos, you can see the truth. You don't have anywhere or anything without him.

✨

The world shifts under you, your body chafing across the floor as the door moves you. Not harshly but inch by inch. Mr. Laufeyson bends over you as you open your eyes, groggy and glazed over. His silhouette is fuzzy and distant as he slides his arms under you.

He lifts you and carries you to the bed. You groan as he lays you down, piling pillows behind you to prop you up. He sits with his legs over the side and pushes his head back. You come to, little by little, pushing through the fog.

You hug yourself and wiggle in place. He reaches to still you, his hand on your thigh. You wince and stare at his fingers. He draws his knee up and shifts to face you. He removes his touch as his eyes cling thoughtfully to the wall behind you.

"I see you've calmed down," he begins and lets his gaze fall on you, "so we will talk. I'm sure you're aware that matters are urgent."

"No..." you utter, "I'll... go."

You try to sit up and he nudges you back. You hit the pillows and do not try again. You don't have anything left in you.

"Where?" He challenges.

"I have a hotel room--"

"No," he shakes his head, "that won't do. What I'm offering, well, you can hardly deny it."

You drop your head and shrug.

"How many more nights can you afford? And without a job? I'm offering you both. Work, accommodation. I dare to say, I would offer you a home."

"No, you're my boss," you insist.

"Yes, I do expect you to shoulder some tasks," he assures, "but perhaps... we might remold this arrangement."

Your eyes stick blankly to your knees. You don't know what he wants or what he means. Just more. It's always more. Hasn't he taken enough?

"What more can you want from me?" You whisper.

He's quiet again. His fingers twiddle and he lifts his hand, touching your arm and slowly grasping it. He unwraps it from your torso and trails down to your hand, squeezing it.

"I made myself clear before," he pulls your hand closer, cradling it as he pets your knuckles, "but perhaps you still misunderstood me." He clasps your hand between both of his, "I want you. Entirely."

Your eyes flick up to meet his. Your mouth falls open as your heart tempos wildly. You still don't think you understand. Your search his face for the answer.

"I will grant you any wish. Clothes, jewellery, whatever you like. If you like to read, I will buy you books, if you like to draw, I will buy you paint. If you just want shiny things, I can get those too. All I ask is simple. For you. For your entire being. That you obey and serve my every need and you will have all you ever longed for. Things you never even dreamed of," he slips a hand away and lifts yours. He leans in and softly kisses your knuckles, "you say I am bad, but I needn't be.”

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #au #maid au #dirty work #mcu #marvel #avengers #thor

[abbatoirablaze]

Locked Up Master List

This series is complete! ✔️

Working in a prison is hard. The only thing that could possibly be any harder would be to be a woman working in the prison. But that's the reality for the new prison shrink, the junior doctor in the medical ward, and one of the correctional officers.

They're surrounded by some of the worst men in the country, working in the federal prison.

There are the mafioso heads, James Buchanan Barnes and Steve Rogers. Former military who turned back to the family business once they got through their contracts. Only to get a reputation of disposing of bodies as long as their rap sheets. And while these two one-time best friends manage to be civil enough inside the walls, Barnes has already promised to repay Rogers for taking his arm before their trial.

But they're just the tip of the iceberg. There are far more dangerous men in the prison. Like Robert Pronge a paranoid schizophrenic who was a hitman for nearly ten years.

Or the suave, cannibalistic serial killer, Doctor Brendan Steven Kemp.

Or the eccentric billionaire playboy who murdered his grandfather for the fortune, Ransom Drysdale.

But sometimes it's not the ones who appear the most dangerous that have the most pull in the prison. It might just be the quiet and calm Curtis Everett.

Or even the warden, a certain sheriff that managed to campaign his way all the way up to the coveted chair.

There are far too many dangerous things lurking around the corridors of the prison. And unfortunately these women are Locked Up with them every single day.

This is going to be a dark series. Chapters will have individual tags, but this will include: noncon relationships, rape, blackmail, murder, violence, and more.

The Shrink

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4 -The Riot

Chapter 11-The Riot

Chapter 14-Two Weeks Later

Chapter 18-Starting Over Part 2

The Junior Doctor

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7 -The Riot

Chapter 12-The Riot

Chapter 15-Starting Over

The Correctional Officer

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10-The Riot

Chapter 13-The Riot

Chapter 16-After The Riots

Chapter 17-A Lasting Legacy

#locked up #prison au #chris evans characters #sebastian stan characters #marvel au #marvel #the avengers #steve rogers #captain america #bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #james barnes #james buchanan barnes #the winter soldier #the falcon and the winter solider spoilers #dark steve rogers #dark curtis everett #curtis everett #snowpiercer au #jake jensen #the losers #the losers fanfiction #ari levinson #red sea diving resort #ransom drysdale #knives out au #robert pronge #the iceman #steve kemp

[emberenchanted]

For Keeps (2/3)

Pairing: Dark!Carol Danvers x Female Reader

Summary: Carol sees you. Carol wants you. Carol gets what she wants. 

Series Warnings: extremely dubious consent, strap ons (r receiving), sex (oral, vaginal), fingering, anal fingering, Dom!Carol, orgasm denial, spanking, violence (not really towards reader), manipulation, forced relationship, rough sex

18+ ONLY

Link to Chapter 1

Chapter 2

As you drag yourself up the stairs to your studio above the bar you reflect on whether living at home with your parents had really been that bad. This kind of thing didn’t happen where you were from and it had you thinking that perhaps it was time to revisit your long term plans. Coming back home after three months was kind of pitiful, but even that might be better than getting pulled into a world you have no business in. One filled with casual violence that made your stomach turn. 

Especially since you were now dreading the inevitable phone call from Carol. You knew she would call and you knew you wouldn’t be able to say no to her. That was a dangerous road to start down. Better to nip it in the bud ASAP. 

Calling an ambulance for Mel and closing down the bar mostly by yourself made for an extra late night and all you could think about was taking a hot shower (your meager attempt to wash the violence off of you and out of your mind) and climbing into bed. You wish you’d given yourself a glass of wine “on the house,” but after Carol’s display, it seemed like Mel really couldn’t spare the extra cash. 

When you awake late the next morning it’s with a pounding headache and two missed calls from an unknown number. You also see a voicemail notification. Your mind quickly flashes over the events of the preceding night and you immediately wish you were still sleeping. For some reason you feel like you should be sitting up while you listen to Carol’s message, so you throw your legs over the edge of your sofa bed and drag yourself into an upright position. 

As you suspected, the message was from Carol and she sounded like sin. 

Beep. “Hey, baby. It’s me, Carol. I had such a good time with you last night, and I can’t wait to see you again. How about I pick you up tonight at 7pm for dinner and a show? Call me back with your address as soon as you get this. Ok, bye baby. Talk to you soon.”  

You squeeze your eyes shut and press 7 to delete the message. You never should have given her your number. And you definitely couldn’t go out with her. She’d hurt Mel! In the three months since you’d moved to the city, Mel had been--well, not a friend exactly--but a stable acquaintance. He’d given you a job and a place to live, and only price gouged you a little. But the commute to work was unbeatable. You generally liked Mel and wanted him to be ok. Carol, or whoever she was representing, could have offered him some kind of payment plan. From what you could tell from his tearful blabbering while you waited for the ambulance, he’d made an honest mistake. 

You also knew that while you might be telling yourself you were refusing to call Carol back out of some source of solidarity, the simple truth was that Carol scared you shitless. She also didn’t seem like someone who handled rejection well. And you aren’t interested in standing up to her and risking her undeniably brutal wrath. You don’t think that she would hurt you like she’d hurt Mel, but you also don’t think she’ll simply accept your answer and leave you be. So, to your bleary brain, ignoring the problem is the next best thing. You busy yourself with laundry and tidying your small apartment; your distractions work well until Carol’s next two calls at 5 and 6pm. She doesn’t leave any more voice messages and you hope that she got the message that you weren’t interested and that she would lose interest in you. You spend the evening with a bottle of cheap red wine and Netflix. You tumble into bed around 2 am and fall into a fitful sleep. When you wake up in the early afternoon the next day, 6 hours before your 7:30 pm shift at Mel’s, you nervously check your phone for more messages. To your relief, there are none. 

Carol’s good mood fizzles in the 24 hours after meeting you. The morning after Mel’s Tavern she’d woken up in high spirits. After a quick 6 mile run, she’d showered, eaten a hearty breakfast, and started planning her date. She’d settled on a location for dinner, made reservations, and bought tickets to a popular live show. She’d called Y/N to tell her all about their night, then called again to leave a message. By 5pm, Carol was irritated, and by 6pm she was worried. She’d even driven by Mel’s around 6:30pm to see if you were working. If Carol had known your address, she wouldn’t have hesitated to drop by. By 7:30pm Carol was back in the gym, sparring just a bit too viciously with Natasha. 

“Damn!,” Nat huffs out as Carol puts her on her ass for the fifth time that evening. She sits up while rubbing her side and looks at Carol through the red sheet of hair that has fallen over her face. “Did I happen to do something to you? Because, if so, you should know I’m very sorry. Can you please stop beating me up? ”

Carol sticks out her hand to help Natasha off the mat. “Sorry. I’m a little distracted today so I wasn’t really paying attention.”

Natasha, now standing, looks quizzically at Carol and then laughs, “I feel like I should be insulted.”

Carol smiles. “Never, Nat. You always give me a good fight." The next moment her smile turned sour. “I’m just frustrated and a bit pissed. I met this woman last night and she gave me her number, but then started avoiding me. She won’t answer her phone and stood me up for a date. That’s actually where I’m supposed to be now. But I know she likes me. I saw the way she looked at me and reacted when I touched her. But, she’s just too nervous to admit it.” 

Carol rolls her eyes and throws her head back as she releases a frustrated grunt.

“Ok, woman troubles. Now that I can help with,” Nat chuckles. “If she’s too shy, then you need to be bold enough for the both of you. Don’t let her say no.”

“You know what Nat?,” Carol grins, “it’s like you read my mind.”

Carol strides into Mel’s Tavern at 9 pm the following night. She walks directly to the bar, ignoring everyone around her and heading straight to you.

As she approaches, your heart starts racing and the room feels much hotter than it had moments ago. She was just as breathtakingly beautiful as you remembered and your mind empties for just a moment. She didn’t look happy, but she also didn’t look like she was about to fling a knife into your heart or drive a fist into your face. That had to be a good sign, right? 

“Hey, Carol,” you choke out quietly. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“No, Y/N. But I would very much like to speak with you.” Carol states calmly, hands braced against the edge of the bar and body leaning over the counter towards you. “Why don’t you take your break now?”

You gesture aimlessly to the few scattered patrons in the bar. For the second time in as many shifts nobody would look at you. They were all suspiciously interested in the glasses in front of them, even if those glasses were empty. You grit your teeth and say, “Someone might need me.”

Carol frowns, looks around and asks the room loudly, “Anybody here need anything?”

A chorus of “nos” come back to her.

Carol raises one of her perfectly arched eyebrows and beckons you over to her with a softly crooked finger. 

You scoot to the section of the bar directly in front of Carol, cross your arms and look down. Carol reaches across the bar with her right hand and, taking your chin between her thumb and forefinger, pushes your head up until you meet her eyes directly. 

Your brain races through excuses frantically. You knew it was a possibility she’d show up and you should have prepared better. Maybe you could say that things have been a little crazy in your life and you don’t have time to pursue anything... with anyone? Not just her? It was a pitiful excuse, but the best you could come up with.

Carol looks at you, head tilted slightly, brows furrowed, and eyes narrowed as her thumb gently strokes your face. Her expression could only be described as frustrated yet determined. “Baby,” Carol began slowly, “I’m confused. When I came in two nights ago, we had an instant connection. That doesn’t happen often, does it?”

Your head jerks quickly back and forth, signaling no.

“Ok, that's what I thought,” Carol continues. Her voice hardens slightly, as does the hand holding your face. You wince at the sudden pressure. “So why didn’t you call me back? Why did you make me call you four times with no response?”

Your head feels dizzy and your lips stay glued together. You're on the verge of a panic attack and all you could think of is getting her to let you go. 

“Answer me, baby. Now,” Carol commands, as her grip on your chin tightens further. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. Your eyes squeeze shut and your upper body is leaned back as far as you can while your face is still being held by Carol. 

Carol abruptly releases your face and you have to take a quick step and set your hand on the bar to rebalance your body. 

Carol’s hand snakes out and grabs yours, holding it firmly so you can’t walk away. Her voice softens some, but still sounds slightly harsh .“Ok, I’ll forgive you this time. But don’t let it happen again.” From her back pocket she whips out a piece of paper and a pen. “Write down your address so I know where to pick you up tomorrow.”

Once Carol pockets your address, she reaches for your hand once more. “How much longer do you have on your break, baby? Let’s go outside.” 

After walking you outside, Carol immediately presses you against the brick wall and pushes her lips against yours in a forceful kiss. Her tongue slips across the seam of your lips until you open to allow her entry into your mouth. She sets to exploring every bit of you, sucking your tongue into her mouth and nibbling on your lips until they are tender and you are breathless and dizzy. Then she’d promptly untucked your shirt, unbuttoned your jeans, and slid her hand down to your slippery folds. When you try to move away, her free hand tightens on your waist and shoves you back, making your back scrape against the wall. 

“Mmmm, is all this for me?,” she murmurs, nuzzling your ear, as her fingers part you and begin gently rubbing from your clit to your slick opening. You squirm on Carol's fingers, and Carol slides her thumbnail over your sensitive clit harshly, making you yelp. “Did I tell you to move?”

“No,” you whisper.

“When we're together like this you call me Ma’am,” Carol growls. “No, who?”

”No, ma’am” you gasp out while trying desperately to stay still. She slides two fingers into you and your walls flutter furiously around Carol's fingers, searching for relief. “Sorry, ma’am.” It comes out as a whimper. 

Carol pushes her fingers deeper up inside of you and you choke. Her free hand slides under your shirt, over your waist and ribs, before spreading and tightening under your breast, fingernails digging into the hollows between your ribs, scratching your soft flesh. Carol thumbs your taut nipple, and a moan bubbles up in your throat as you fight your every instinct in your attempt not to move. Her warm breath fans over your neck as she shifts your body flat against the wall, caging you in. 

Carol pinches your nipple sharply as her fingers begin to push into you harder and faster. She  focuses her thrusts, curling her fingers inside you to rub your spongy flesh until she hits that exquisite spot that makes you moan and shiver. The slick sound of her fingers pumping in and out of your pussy fills your ears. That and Carol’s murmuring are all you can hear. Her voice pitches you higher as she calls you her good girl, her sweet girl, her hot sticky tight little girl. 

Your heart pounds in your chest as you feel the relentless rising in your core. You approach the edge of a wicked orgasm, and just as you feel yourself begin to teter over, Carol slides her fingers out of you and starts slipping them, in a whisper soft motion, over your clit, just barely brushing you. The abrupt emptiness has you whining sharply. 

“No, no, no,” Carol whispers in your ear. She presses her body firmly against yours,  “No coming for you. You were a bad girl. Do bad girls get orgasms?”

“No,” you gasp.

Carol pinches your clit sharply once before going back to her soothing motion, “No, who?”

“No, ma’am,” you whimper. 

“Good girl. We’re going to do that a few more times while you apologize to me, ok? Hold on, baby.”

Feeling lost, you loop your arms around her neck and drop your head into the crook of her neck. Carol’s long slender fingers push roughly back inside of you, furiously rubbing you as you whine and squirm against the wall. Before long you hear yourself apologizing for not answering her calls, for worrying her, for standing her up. 

She tortures you throughout your broken apologies, bringing you to the edge over and over only to force you back down. 

Finally, finally, she must decide you’ve apologized enough, and she whispers in your ear as her fingers pick up again, “Shhh, now, I’m going to let you come baby. You’re being such a good girl and you apologized so nice. But don’t you ever ignore my calls again. No matter what.” Her voice hardens and her slippery fingers pinch at your clit gently--making you jump and yelp--before pushing them back inside you, “You understand me?”

Your brain is fuzzy and can’t seem to string together enough words to form a sentence. When you first saw Carol enter the bar you definitely didn’t intend for this to happen. You’d hope that you could somehow weasel out of a date with her without her getting mad. Things had obviously not gone according to plan. You must take too long to respond, because Carol’s free hand reaches to twist your clit harshly, making you howl. 

“Answer me. Now.” The fingers inside you don’t stop. 

The sharp pain from her twist radiates up your body, and temporarily mutes your rising orgasm. “Yes,” you sob pathetically. “Yes, I understand, ma’am.”

Carol uses the entirety of her body weight to push you up against the wall. Your back scrapes the wall as her fingers pick up speed and she coos softly in your ear. Her fingers push you violently over the edge, and you buck harshly between the wall and Carol's solid form. Carol’s fingers fuck you through your orgasm as she nuzzles your neck, licking and nipping at the tender skin there as you come down.  

Carol watches as you readjust your clothes and wipe at the mist in your eyes before she walks you back into the bar. She drops a possessive kiss on your mouth before heading toward the door. At the last minute, she turns and looks you dead in the eye. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Right, baby?” 

You look back at her and nod. “Yes, ma’am,” you whisper under your breath. 

After dropping you back at work, Carol walks to her car with her lips curled into a smile. She is sure that she’s on the right track with her sweet, shy little baby. She's even hopeful that she might be able to trade in her unused tickets for show credit that she could use for her date tomorrow night with you.

Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks for reading and for any feedback you give. Please do let me know what you think so far. It's much appreciated. Also, I know need to work on my dividers.. haven't quite figured those out yet. Thanks for bearing with me.

#dark carol danvers x female reader #dark carol danvers x reader #dark!carol danvers #dark!carol #avengers smut #marvel reader insert #dark marvel au #marvel fic #dark! carol danvers #tw dark fic #carol danvers x female reader #carol danvers x reader #smut #tw dubious consent #tw dubcon #for keeps series

[imagines-to-quench-thirst]

Social Media AU: Y/n makes use of a photo shoot for her "Big Boy" Victor Creed

#victor creed one shot #marvel imagine #avengers imagine #victor creed x reader #victor creed smut #victor creed imagine #sabertooth imagine #sabertooth x reader #sabertooth #xmen dark phoenix #xmen apocalypse #new xmen #imagine #marvel #liev schreiber #fake social media #avengers social media au #marvel social media