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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 8 months

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Blind Offer 1

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, manipulation, 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: After a leak causes you to evacuate your apartment, your landlord offers a vacant unit that's too good to be true. (short!plus!reader)

Character: Steve Rogers, additional characters to come

Note: Loooooook. I was gonna restrain myself but this all just got outta hand. This is one of my Corrupt-A-Wish requests but I won't reveal which one right away because it'll be part of the plot!

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 like I love turning intended one shots into series. Take care. 💖

You keep your slippers just away from the edge of the puddle. The sheet of water extends almost completely across the kitchen. You hug yourself, still slightly groggy from your early and rude awakening. The washing you put in last night hadn’t finished and instead the sudsy mess had leaked out around the door.

There’s a sigh and a clank as your landlord pulls his arm out of the machine. Your sopping laundry is in a bucket by his feet. His shirt is visibly wet from his struggle to stem the steady flow dripping from the brim of the washer door. You worry you may have overloaded the compact stacking unit.

“I’m sorry, Steve,” you say as you sway guiltily.

“Don’t be,” he puts his hands on his hips and blows out. A golden strand dangles down his forehead, “it’s not you. My own fault. I thought these things might hold out for a while…”

“Oh?”

“Not the first time I’ve had to fight the beast but it worked. I should be sorry, I should’ve just replaced it.”

“Well, uh, what are you gonna do now?” You look at the wet tile, the scent of laundry detergent thick in the air as the water creeps closer to your slippers.

“Uh, yeah, well, obviously you can’t stay here.”

“I can’t?” You raise your head, running your hand up the front of your robe and clutching the fluffy fabric.

“No, bylaws say you need to evacuate until I can get a new unit in here. And clean up. Leak like this can leave mildew and mold,” he combs his large hand over his head, “I feel bad enough, I couldn’t let you live in this.”

“Okay… um, I have to work in a couple hours–”

“Oh, geez. Well, er, maybe just pack up a few things and I can take you over to the new place? You can always come back to grab more if you need.”

“I guess…” you chew your lip. His blue eyes fixate on the gesture so you stop. “How far is it?”

“Not very, about twenty minutes east by car.”

“East?” You utter dully, “that’s a bit far. I work up near the metro area.”

“There’s some bus stops that way but I could give you a lift tod–” There’s a sudden gush and he looks back to the machine, a bubble of water flowing up over the brim. He shuts the door, stemming much of it. “You won’t even be able to cook in here,” he says, “look, bylaws say I have to relocate you. I have a property free which means I don’t have to splurge for a hotel. If you prefer somewhere closer, then it’s on you.”

You frown. He’s not the worst landlord you’ve had but he definitely talks like one. He’s only really worried about his liability. Yet, most others wouldn’t have even brought up that clause and left you to wallow in this puddle of dirty laundry water. You shrug, hopefully the other place isn’t too bad.

“Right, uh, I guess I’ll go get dressed,” you relent.

“Great,” he says with blatant exasperation, turning back to face the trembling washer, his voice deflating to a hoarse rasp, “goddamn.”

You hesitate as you stare at his back. The gray fabric of his jersey henley strains across his shoulder blades as the back of his forearms clench, veins pulsing out. He rolls his head on his neck and heaves out again.

You turn on your foot and slowly pad out of the kitchen. You hear his sole squeak subtly but refuse to glance back again. You can’t help but feel that it’s all your fault. You’re sure he’s too nice to say so. Or too distracted by the chaos you’ve caused.

🖤

The new apartment isn’t an apartment at all. It’s a walkup townhouse with a sleek black and white exterior. The neighbourhood is far out of your range but you won’t complain. You suspect Steve is already aware of the deferential.

“Wow, this place is really nice,” you say as he holds the door for you. You step inside and take in the space; a narrow staircase to the next floor, black frames around grayscale photography, and minimalist decor in the form of a standing geometric floor vase and a coat rack with bent arms.

You stop to take your shoes off on the mat as Steve squeezes in behind you and shuts the door. You trip away from him, surprised by the friction of his body against yours. You’ve always been overly aware of yourself and how much room you take up. Your size makes it hard to not feel crowded, still the close brush rattles you.

He swirls the keys around a finger and stills them in his fist. He looks around emphatically and waves a hand.

“Well, this is it. It’s my only vacant property at the moment, so, it’ll have to do. Fully furnished, at least.”

“It’s great,” you assure him as you step further in, your duffel hanging heavy from one arm, “wow, it’s…”

“A lot bigger than your place. Yeah. New development. Invested at ground floor. You’ll be the first tenant, at least for the time being.”

“Ah, right,” you go to the narrow bench of black acrylic and place your bag atop it. “I’ll try not to mess it up.”

“Didn’t mean it like that.”

“Uh, yeah, but obviously it’s above my paygrade,” you scoff, “I appreciate it and sorry again.”

“Don’t worry about it. Really. Dropping a couple hundred on a new washer woulda saved us both trouble. I only got one person to blame,” he holds out his hand, “you don’t need a tour, do ya?” He offers the keys and you step up to take them, “I’ll be back around noon to get you to work but I got running around to do.”

“Um, I should be able to figure it out–”

“Oh, wait,” he puts a finger up, “the door code. Just in case. Also, you’ll wanna override the security system when you get in.” He turns and points to the sleek black box mounted beside the door, “I got it on my phone but you’ll just need to pop it open and put in the number.” He slides out his phone, “I’ll just text it before I forget.”

“Right,” you nod as you clutch the keys tight, “got it. I think I can manage.”

“Anyway, you got my number, you need anything, you know how to reach me,” he checks his watch, “noon,” he repeats as he points at you, “I’ll be back.”

He spins and opens the door, swiftly stepping through before swinging it shut behind him. You’re left slightly stunned and don’t move right away. You cross the floor and twist the latch of the door, a cautious habit likely unnecessary in this neighbourhood.

You turn back to your new abode and let your eyes rove. Wow. All this just for you. You wonder how much one of these places go for. Your monthly pay probably wouldn’t even cover a single week.

You shuffle forward, uncertain, expecting for Steve to come back through and tell you it’s all a mistake.

You peer around at the immaculate decor. Each piece is perfectly set and carefully curated. The long leather sectional and the matching square backed armchairs before the artificial fireplace in the wall. A low coffee table on a rug patterned in black and white, a touch of red in the throw pillows and the curtains.

Then the kitchen, white, pure marble, and pale silver appliances. The tile is marked by subtle dove grey diamonds, and a table sits against the wall with two chairs. You go back into the hallway and down towards the front of the stairs. You peek up at the top as you pass the small half-bath embedded on the other side.

Upstairs, you find two bedrooms, a full bath, and what appears to be a study, along with several spacious closets. It’s truly a dream. Who knew a broken washer could get you a stay in heaven.

Well, you should get settled in. Enjoy it while it lasts.

🖤

As promised, Steve shows up just before noon. You have your uniform on but feel less than ready to go. The abrupt awakening, the displacement, and the typical dread of the overcrowded box store. Your job is less than glamorous and the townhouse underlines that even more as you bid it a reluctant goodbye.

Steve’s car is sleek and red and overpriced. You don’t know much about cars but you can just tell. The interior is squeaky and so clean you’re sure it must be right off the lot. That new car smell fills your nose and threatens to inspire a migraine.

You put your purse in your lap and buckle up as he turns down the volume on the stereo. You recognise the song, surprised by his taste. He didn’t seem the angsty type. As far from grungy as you can imagine.

“Smashing Pumpkins?” You comment.

“You don’t like them?”

“Don’t mind em,” you shrug, “just figured you were more into… I don’t know, just not them.”

“When I’m not unclogging toilets or changing smoke alarms, I actually do have fun,” he scoffs.

“Oh, I didn’t mean–”

“Kidding,” he assures you as he pulls away from the curb.

You watch the townhouses pass by as he slowly rolls down the street. It’s eerie. There are no other cars lined up in the spots parallel to the pavement. In fact, you don’t see anyone else around. Not through windows, not coming or going, no one so much as walking down the cul-de-sac. It is oddly isolated from the suburbs all around.

“Not like I have great music taste, I’m a disco junkie,” you try to laugh off the tension.

“Fun,” he muses dully.

You don’t respond. You’re on your phone checking Uber prices for the way back. Eek. You pull up the bus routes for the area; at least two transfers to get there. Shit.

“So…” Steve begins, “who you chatting with? Telling them about your tight-ass landlord or what?”

“Uh, no,” you put your phone down and black the screen, “I was just… tryna figure out how I’m getting home. Sorry. Did you say something?”

“Nothing important,” he assures, “what time are you done?”

“Nine, closing,” you explain, “it’s fine, there’s buses. I’ll just have to remember not to go to my usual stop.”

“I can come get you,” he offers.

“That’s… that’s fine. You don’t have to. You’ve already done enough–”

“Really, I don’t have much else going on. Besides the washer but my buddy’s taking care of that for me. I’ll be available.”

“If you don’t mind, but really, I’m gonna have to learn the route. Actually, when do you think I’ll be back at my apartment?”

“Couple of days at best. After we left, the water got into the motor of the dryer– to spare you the whole spiel, the dryer needs to be replaced too. And the floor might need to come up, water’s done a number on the laminate–”

“Oh,” you grimace, “I… that sounds bad.”

“Nothing that can’t be fixed. Look, I know it’s probably not ideal for you to be all the way out here. I’ll keep you updated,” he speaks with one hand as his other remains on the wheel.

“Oh, no, I appreciate all your help. It’s just…” you cross your ankles and nervously wiggle your foot, “I’m just anxious.”

He hums and a thoughtful silence rises between you. He turns a corner and clears his throat, “about the apartment or work?”

“What?”

“What are you anxious about?” He asks.

“Oh, uh, yeah, uh, work, sure. Work always makes me anxious. Lots of angry customers and we’re headed into that season, you know?”

“Makes sense,” he nods, moving his hand low on the wheel as he sits back and steers lazily with the clogged flow of the city traffic.

“And the apartment,” you admit, “I’m not the best with change.”

“Yeah, I get that,” he agrees, “I’m a bit of stickler. I like order, you know? Everything has its place. Everyone has their role.”

You mull his words. It’s a strange way of putting it but you get it. You find your life erratic this time of year, when your schedule goes from predictable to hectic and fluid. Everyone wants to switch shifts and all the managers are trying to fill the schedule with as few bodies as possible.

“I mean…” he breaks the lull, “you know, I keep a pretty strict schedule with myself. Try to. You never know when you’ll get a call at 5am.”

You suck in air and look at him from the corner of your eye. His allusion isn’t subtle. The pit sinks further in your stomach. You don’t need one more person disappointed in you, not when you’re about to face Gwen the manager and her omnipotent clipboard.

“Yeah, uh,” you bend your arm and rub your neck, “sorry…”

“You apologise a lot,” he interrupts, “I’m not mad.”

“I know, I just feel bad,” you move your thumb to chew it.

He glances over at you before quickly refocusing on the road. He laughs, a hollow, gristly chuckle, “trust me, if I was mad, you would know.”

You blink. What? You’re not sure what he means. Is he joking? Maybe it’s that he’s such a nice guy that the change would be unmistakable or maybe he’s being sarcastic and you’re too stupid to pick up on it. Either way, you just want this car ride to be over.

“Right,” you eke out, “I’ll, erm, be sure to stay on your good side then.”

He slides his hand around the wheel to the top, squeezing until the leather squeaks. He shifts in his seat and exhales, “girl like you, I can’t imagine you being too much of a handful.”

His remark sticks in your ears. Again, you’re confounded by him. You can't read his tone as it's quickly washed away by the sudden blare of music as he cranks up the volume.

“This is a good one,” he calls over the music, “I’m sure you know it.”

Despite all my rage, I am still just a rat in a cage Despite all my rage, I am still just a rat in a cage Someone will say, "What is lost can never be saved" Despite all my rage, I am still just a rat in a cage

Now I'm naked Nothing but an animal But can you fake it For just one more show?

The creaky tones of Billy Corgan’s lilt surrounds you as Steve bobs his head. The swirl of noise and the shadow of tension mingle and suffocate you. You’re starting to look forward to work.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #corrupt-a-wish #au #multifandom #captain america #avengers #marvel #mcu #more characters to be added #blind offer

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jedi-starbird · 3 months

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Time Travel is my favourite trope and I think we need more fics where both Obi-Wan AND Qui-Gon time travel together because no matter when they get sent it's chaos. They're saving the galaxy and being physic flash-bangs to everyone around them.

like before Bandomeer?

The entire council is baffled to watch as Qui-Gon 'never taking a padawan again' Jinn has suddenly cut off his post-Xanatos depression tour to return to the temple and beeline to the creche with a frantic energy. His wild eyes immediately single out a fluffy, red-haired initiate.

"You." he exhales with a pointed finger, slightly ominous as he towers over the child. Said child starts vibrating with delight. "Me." he agrees, launching himself at the man. Qui-Gon drops to his knees with a thud that cannot be healthy. Obi-Wan's attempts to clamber into Qui-Gon's robes and maybe onto his shoulders is thwarted by the fact that Qui-Gon's massive hands are cupping Obi-Wan's tiny squishy cheeks. He stares at the initiate for a few minutes with an intensity that is starting to worry people.

Finally, "You're so small." Qui-Gon sounds like he might cry.

'What the fuck?' Plo Koon projects at Mace.

"I'm 9! That tends to be the case!" the child chirps back.

"You're nine." Oh. Ah. Qui-Gon's eyes are distinctively misty. He squishes the boy in a hug so hard he squeaks. Mace makes a series of gestures that imply the need for a head-scan. Depa obligingly drifts off towards the halls. Qui-Gon scoops the child up onto his hip and claims him as his padawan on the spot. The assorted council members and creche-masters burst into noise. Mace tells Depa to bring some space ibuprofen as well.

after Naboo?

Anakin is a little apprehensive of his place in both the order and Obi-Wan's life, but then one day Obi-Wan wakes up and is suddenly a lot less sad in the force?? In fact, if Anakin didn't know better he'd say he was almost giddy, but he's watched Obi-Wan try to pretend his world hasn't fallen apart for the past few months so it can't be that, right? And um, Miss Bant? He knows grief is a funny thing that affects people differently but he's pretty sure 'massive mood swing' and 'having full conversations with invisible people' is not...great? and you said to tell you if Obi-Wan got really weird in any way.

Anyway after a lot of medical exams, intense consultation with the archives, and a couple exorcisms, Anakin ends up being raised by his 'real' master and his ghost master. He is far more well adjusted emotionally and far less well adjusted for what counts as normal people behavior(not talking to thin air). When questioned on this, all he ever says is that he's talking to Qui-Gon. Isn't he...dead? Well, yes. Wait, he's a ghost? Ghosts are real? ...Well this ghost is real.

This starts a great number of existential crises among non-force sensitives and incredibly heated theological arguments amongst the Jedi. Whenever Obi-Wan is questioned on this, all he ever says is some variation of "the force got to know him for 5 seconds and kicked him back out." Mace backs him up on this even though that reasoning is technically blasphemous. Qui-Gon is having the time of his un-life. He's ascended to his final form, his sheer existence is a heresy, this is truly all he has ever aspired towards.

the Clone Wars?

The minute they get dropped back Qui-Gon immediately goes and haunts the shit out of Dooku. They have a signed terms of surrender and promise of info on the Sith Lord within the year. Only half of it is because Qui-Gon's giving Dooku complexes that are only perceptible to shrimp, the other half is because they now have a ghost spy that is not bound by the laws of physics nor spacetime.

Obi-Wan only nominally pays attention to this as he immediately goes and implements his 19 step seduction plan with Cody (he had to focus on something on Tatooine to pass the time). It fails. Spectacularly. Publicly. Ah right. Tatooine was not exactly the height of his sanity. Everyone in the GAR and temple is now riveted by High General and Councilor Obi-Wan Kenobi's attempts to go on a date with his Commander, who bats him away him like a particularly annoying stray and seems one bouquet of cactus away from committing mutiny. Anakin is worrying if it means his master knows about his secret marriage and this is some sort of really weird power play. (It is, but not in the way he thinks)

The next time Dooku goes after Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon spends a good few months appearing tear-stained at the edge of Dooku's perception and only communicating in terrible wails and discordant mutterings of 'padawan. my padawan. my little one.' 24/7.

"Wait, you're annoying Dooku into surrendering?"

"Oh no Anakin, we're crushing his psyche like a bug. :)"

#everyone feel free to use these i crave more time travel fics #the sheer power qui gon would have as a fully communicating force ghost before and during the clone wars is astounding #qui gon with baby obi wan is like inconsolable sobs cause he never saw him this small and then his life was so sad and he couldnt even hug #him on tatooine but now look at his boy!!! so small and huggable!!!!#they absolutely weaponise baby obi against others his wet cat eyes are 1000% stronger now #they drop him in dookus lap like look grandpadawan:)#if you hold the grandpadawan maybe your sith behaviour will calm down :/#anyway them together is like they throw enough bullshit into the air to blind everyone while they speedrun important changes in the back #after naboo is like everyone offering obi wan condolences and obi responding yeah im going to need them the fucker wont stay down #star wars #obi wan kenobi #qui gon jinn #qui gon and obi wan #fic ideas #time travel shenanigans #codywan #anakin skywalker #disaster lineage #count dooku

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muffinlance · 1 year

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Can Sokka’s science tell him which of Katara’s 7 spools of blue thread 🧵 is the right one to darn that hole in his shirt with?

It could if she didn't keep changing her answer

Katara: I AM NOT CHANGING MY ANSWER

Sokka: YES YOU ARE THESE ARE IDENTICAL

Katara: NO THEY'RE NOT

Sokka: I DEMAND A DOUBLE-BLIND STUDY

Katara: I DEMAND YOU GET YOUR OWN SEWING KIT

#I was initially thinking Sokka just doesn't realize there's different widths for different tasks #but you know what would be a hilarious AU?#color blind Sokka #Earth soldiers? Fire soldiers?#he'll figure it out on the fly #get it?#because they're on Appa #flying #WE GET IT SOKKA PLEASE DODGE THE FIREBALLS #avatar the last airbender #atla #bonus points if combined with face blind Zuko #Sokka: *squinting hard at other teenager's clothes at a Fire Festival* he looks a lot like the Shouty McHonor Lost but he's way too chill #Zuko: *squinting at Other Teenager He's Never Met Before Probably* he's been staring at me #does he want my fire flakes?#...or friendship?#Uncle is this what people do when they want to be friends?#they make intense clothing eye contact?#Not-Colorblind Not-Faceblind Iroh: why don't you go offer him fire flakes and see Prince Zuko

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hydrodragons · 7 months

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"but this is not the end... merely a prelude for what is to come."

#genshin impact #genshinedit #genshinimpactedit #genshinet #neuvillette #mine*#neuvillette*#neuvi nation i come bearing this offering #in hopes for him to come home tmr (pls pls pls)#also @ lore enthusiasts the sky cracking at the end there........... are we going to see the false sky revealed soon 👀#i feel like it'd be too early to reveal it now but at the same time you rly never know im going into this aq blind LMAO

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buckttommy · 24 days

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and you know what the thing is, is i don't even think the biggest problem is going to be that buck's jealous. eddie knows buck. that's the love of his life, but more than that, he just knows him intrinsically. he knows how he is. he knows he gets insecure. he knows he has abandonment issues, like. he knows. he has never once hesitated to give buck assurance and he'll give it again (that scene in buck's loft in 7x05). the problem is going to rise when eddie's relationship with tommy is still a problem after their talk, and neither of them are going to know why. becuase from eddie's pov, it's going to be like, well now you're just being ridiculous. i already told you i love you (in so many words). i already told you we're solid, i already told you nothing's going to change and you're still being weird and i don't like it. and from buck's pov, it's going to be like. i realize we had this conversation, but i still don't like this relationship. i still want things to go back to the way they were. i'm still hungry for your attention and you're not giving it to me.

and so it's like. that's where the wires get crossed. because at some point, buck is going to have to examine his thoughts and feelings again, and he's going to be like, well this man and his relationship with eddie has been the only thing that's consumed my thoughts for weeks; therefore, i must want him desperately. and it's like. yes. solid thinking there, buck. definitely no other options it could possibly be. nuh uh. makes perfect sense. 1000/10 excellent problem solving, great job, buckaroo. dumbass.

#And there's also something to be said about Buck's reaction to hearing that Eddie and Tommy clicked because he's like... 'Yeah I know #exactly what that's like because (when I stopped being dumb) you and I clicked'#and considering Buck's brain I have to wonder if there's something there in the way he thinks Eddie processes his own relationships #as in: the key to having a good solid bestfriendship is clicking with someone right off the bat #so in Buck's mind he is (for lack of a better word) relegated to JUST friendship because he thinks that's how it is in EDDIE'S mind #So of COURSE he's freaking out about Tommy moving in on his best friend because as far as he's concerned #being best friends with Eddie is just about having a natural connection #and not about like. What you actually offer him. Which is so shallow. Buck knows him deeper than that #but he's so blinded by his own irrational paranoia (and queer feelings which are scary when you are a baby gay!)#that he doesn't even realize what the fuck is going on in HIS head since he's so focused on what he THINKS is going on in Eddie's #Bless his sweet soul i need to kiss him so bad like buck you're so fucking dumb let's make out #anyways

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acesammy · 8 months

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The thing about how sam’s arc in season 4 is often discussed is that people simultaneously acknowledge that the angels are bad, while claiming Sam is an idiot for rebelling against them.

like I have listened through three (3) rewatch podcasts and they always seem to fall into this loop of going ‘hey the angels are Obviously up to no good’ while also going ‘Sam is really stupid. Why would he trust a demon when literal angels are telling him to stop’

idk man. Maybe bc the angels are Obviously up to no good????

#And it’s a really good arc so it’s got more going on #BUT #y’all can’t recognize that the angels are being shady as fuck and offering awful solutions #while SIMULTANEOUSLY saying that Sam should trust them implicitly #and yes there’s a lot of like very personal religious rebellion that’s going on with Sam that IS a bit .. petulant isn’t the right word #but he’s reacting to a /personal/ slight bc angels were supposed to be his hope and they are Dicks #He /was/ blinded by that #but also keep in mind that the first time sam met the angels they were proposing that they kill 1k+ people #And then there’s the flip side of this #which is that Sam gets to the point where he accepts that he’s evil. That what he’s doing is turning him into a monster.#but that doesn’t matter. /he/ doesn’t matter. So long as it saves the world #I mean the angels obviously aren’t trying too hard #lea speaks #sorry I keep dragging up dumb shit abt spn #idk I just want to get it out and this is a nice void to do so

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theflyingfeeling · 16 days

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they really did put him in situations

bonus:

#blind channel #olli matela #blind channel in silent library #silent library more like olli kink fest #operated by joel since he was the one passing the cards dfgsdgadsgadgsgss #there were TEN TASKS and olli got SIX of them + the group one 😂😭😂😭#so it was even worse than what could be seen from the teasers #and joonas OFFERED TO TRADE CARDS WITH HIM TWICE BEFORE FLIPPING THEM 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂#and then in tommi's task he got THE CEREAL SPILLED ALL OVER HIMSELF sfhkjdskjsgdjsgjsgg #this guy's a walking disaster

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awkward-sultana · 2 days

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"You remind me of someone I used to know a long time ago. Someone who came to this palace years ago..."

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mirrrarts · 2 months

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I’m such a sucker for ships with pretty names that aren’t just a combination of characters’ names fr fr!!

#some examples #feel free to offer your own ofc #lonely eyes #blind faith #private eyes #3zun #can’t remember more right now #malevolent #tma #mdzs

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mariocki · 6 days

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got my first job interview in like 10+ years tomorrow, frantically cramming and writing down questions to ask etc wish me luckkkkk

#quitting your job blind and emigrating is fun and all #until you realise you now need to do job application stuff again #truly the most cursed of human activities #also this is not even a job i massively want or anything #it's p low down my list but they're the first to offer an interview so #here's hoping i hear back from the better school with a better position #i am prepping #which means i have downloaded Saw 5 to watch as soon as i get home and stocked the cupboard with emotional distress snacks #my saw trap would be writing a cover letter and then making a phone call to arrange an interview #and i'd fail and get my leg bones sucked out by a jigsaw bone sucking device (tm)

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androidboy · 7 months

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i must not buy a scale. buying a scale is the mind killer. buying a scale is the little death that brings total obliteration

#same affirmation as last month #therapist friend offered to blind weigh me but then there was an emergency and he had to go up north #and he asked me why i needed to know #and i couldn’t think of an answer #but i’m literally scratching at the walls in my mind it’s bothering me so much that i don’t know #i looked up how cheap they are and they’re so so cheap itd be so easy #😭😭😭#i’m down another belt notch i don’t need to know the exact weight i just need to know the ballpark range #ed cw #body image cw #weight cw

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 8 months

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Blind Offer 2

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, manipulation, 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: After a leak causes you to evacuate your apartment, your landlord offers a vacant unit that’s too good to be true. (short!plus!reader)

Character: Steve Rogers, additional characters to come

Note: This is one of my Corrupt-A-Wish requests but I won’t reveal which one right away because it’ll be part of the plot!

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

Love you like I love turning intended one shots into series. Take care. 💖

You come out of work exhausted. The back to school crowd is still in full effect and infringing on your stocking time. Rather than pop your earbud in and lose yourself in barcodes and inventory counts, you more often found yourself searching out a salesman or running to the back to grab a device yourself.

You yawn into the crook of your elbow, feet carrying you out of routine rather than any coherent thought. There’s a flash of headlights as you pass a car idling along the pick up area and you slow down as you squint at the tinted windshield. The interior bulb flicks on and Steve leans forward, giving you a look through the glass as if you should be expecting him.

You slow down and approach the driver’s side as he rolls down the window. You lean in and give a sheepish smile, “uh, I…”

“Didn’t text?” He finishes your sentence, “I figured you were busy.”

“Oh, well, you didn’t–”

“Have to come get you. Yeah, I figured you’d say that again. Really, it’s kind of selfish on my part. Thinking of you waiting in the dark alone, it’s kind of my fault you even have to so I can at least give you a lift.”

“That’s… nice of you but tomorrow, I can catch a bus.”

“If you insist,” he shrugs, “I won’t twist your arm with my kindness.”

You laugh softly, unsure of his humour. It’s more akin to passive aggression. As if even thinking of passing up his offer is an insult. Wouldn’t it be worse to use him for free rides? You’re already getting to stay in a property well above your lease value.

“You gonna get in?” He prompts.

“Yeah, sure, sorry, I–”

“Hey, thanks for the help on that Lenovo,” Remo calls as he walks out the front doors, shooting you a three finger wave, “not bad for a warehouse jockey.”

“No problem. Have a good night,” you wave back.

You skirt around the hood of the car and grab the door handle. It snaps back and you wait until the locks clack back loudly. You get in and gently shut the door. You unreel the seat belt as Steve adjusts his rearview.

“You got a lot of friends at work?” He asks as he shifts gear, resting his toe lightly on the gas.

“Eh, I guess,” you lean your arm on the door, “busy day. Did a lot of running around.”

“Huh, yeah, maybe I should stop in tomorrow. Need some stuff for a few units. Got a security cam I need to replace and– you got appliances, don’t you?” He rambles over the steering wheel.

“Yeah, uh, I think. Mostly to order,” you rest your cheek against your knuckles and watch how you pass in and out of the yellow cones cast by streetlights. “I guess you’re still looking for a new washer then?”

“Well, they don’t make the same model anymore. Space is pretty compact which means I need something with the same dimensions. I’m shopping around,” He taps his fingers on the wheel, “I’ll figure it out.”

You nod and give a hum. No use worrying too much about it. You only rent the place, it’s really not your problem to think about the washer. He did say it already had issues before you.

“So, how do you like the place?” He asks abruptly.

“Huh, oh, yeah, it’s very nice. Big,” you answer nervously.

“Yeah, that one’ll go for a lot. A few showings but no bites yet. Probably won’t get anything until I can get you back to your place, heh,” he says the last part casually as if it isn’t directly aimed at you.

“Mmm, um, then I hope you find a washer soon,” you pull your arm away from the door and sit back in the seat. “I hate to be in the way.”

“In the way? I’m the landlord, I knew what I was getting into,” he assures you lightly, though it does little to assuage your doubts. “Oh, and since you didn’t really get a chance, I got a few groceries and left them at the place. Just to get you by.”

“You– Oh, gosh, how much do I owe you?”

“Consider us even. You’ve been pretty cooperative with all this back and forth, I’m the one who owes you.”

“Well, I don’t mind paying for my food–”

“Really, sweetheart, do you always react so adversely to kindness?”

“What? I’m not– no.”

“I’m being nice. I can tell you, there’s not a lot of landlords out there like me. I actually enjoy helping my tenants…” he turns onto a dark street and you shiver. You’ve never been down this way but you don’t live on this side of town. “I always said, whatever you need, just ask.”

“Sure, um, thanks,” you murmur.

He turns back onto a lit avenue as a glint of light flickers over him and draws your eyes. You catch him peeking at you, his blue eye reflecting the flash before he can look back at the road ahead. You shiver and cross your arms. It didn’t seem like he was looking at your face.

“Fresh sheets on the bed too. Hope you don’t mind, I did a once over when you were gone. Just to make sure I didn’t miss anything. Quick vacuum and all that.”

“It’s your place,” you say, “I’ll be sure to leave it how I found it.”

He inhales, deep enough for you to hear, “I know. You’re not a troublemaker, are you?”

You swallow and furrow your brow at the dashboard. Again, it’s not just his words but his vague tone. You don’t understand the question.

“Good girl like you always pays her rent on time,” he praises, “I can tell you, that’s not always the case.”

You let out a breath, “oh, aha, yeah, well, scheduled payments… technology, right?”

“Mhmm,” he sucks his teeth and lets his arm rest on the console between the seats, ”it’s so easy to be lazy these days.”

🖤

Steve walks you up to the front door. Just in case you can’t get the code right, he claims. You get it on the first try and thank him. Again. He lingers, as if reluctant to leave you, as if he’s expecting to come inside with you. Almost as if you should invite him in.

You say good night and lock the door behind you. You take your time untying your black sneakers and hang your hoodie on the coat rack. When you dare to peek out the window, he’s only just striding down the path back to his car.

It’s slightly creepy but then you feel guilty, thinking maybe you were being rude not asking him in for a tea or something. You don’t know. This whole situation is awkward as hell.

You wander into the kitchen, your stomach growling from the measly microwave dinner you ate on your break. Steve’s ‘small shop’ is much more generous than you expect. Overdoing it seems to be a trait of his.

You read the side of the organic milk in the curved bottle. You know that it costs three times as much as your usual carton of skim. And the greek yogurt, definitely expensive. All brand names, none of the generic discount bin goodies you thrive on.

You let the fridge close as you take out the boxed butternut squash soup. Fancy, you think as you peruse the label. Gourmet, so it claims. You put some in a small pot and heat it up on the gas burner. As you do, you thumb through your phone, pacing around between stirring the thick orange puree.

You eat rich soup with a brioche bun from the market bag. You’re thankful now Steve didn’t ask for compensation, you’re not sure you could foot that bill. And to think, after him praising your timely payments, you would default on a grocery receipt.

You shut off the lights downstairs and flip on the sconce above the staircase and follow it up to the second floor. You come down the hall with a yawn, the bedroom door open and waiting for you. Your duffel is on the dresser where you left it.

You sift around for a loose tee shirt to sleep in and pull out your toiletry bag. You go into the bathroom and change before unzipping the pouch. You take out your cleanser and wash your face over the sink. You pause as you drop the bottle through the open mouth of the blush coloured bag, a fuchsia shape poking out from under your mouthwash.

You reach in and retrieve your bullet vibrator. What the hell? You definitely don’t remember packing that in your hasty evacuation. Besides, why would you put it in there? You shake your head and drop it back to the bottom.

You pat your face dry and take out your tweezers, cleaning up your brows and a few vagrant hairs along your chin. You put them away then ply on your night cream, making a face at yourself as you brush your teeth. You flip the switch off and use the light on your phone to find your way to bed.

You lay awake for almost an hour. You’ve never been good at sleeping in strange places. The house feels so empty it’s eerie. Your ears are pricked for any noise but there isn’t much. The walls are so thick, you don’t even hear the rustling of the tree that casts a shadow through the window or the chirp of crickets. Despite its luxury, the house is desolate.

Your eyelids start to itch and you feel your muscles ease. You start to drift down, a slow swirling descent that tingles in your sockets. That shell starts to encase you, little by little, paralysing you as it drags you down.

BANG!

It isn’t loud but sudden. The dull noise jars you up, chasing away the advance of your fatigue. You look around, heart beating wildly, searching for the source. It sounded close but you can’t be sure. It could’ve been all in your mind as you tiptoed the threshold of your unconscious.

You bounce to the edge of the bed and stand, wobbling through the dark until you find the switch by the door. The light shines out around you as you stop in the doorway, glancing trepidatiously towards the stairs. You near the top and turn on the next light, a cautious progress through the spacious house.

You go down each step, one at a time, and when you get to the bottom, you illuminate the entryway too, the front room, and finally the kitchen. There’s nothing there. You didn’t really expect to find anything. The noise felt much closer to the bedroom.

You return to the second floor, shutting off the lights along the way, and you peer down the hallway. You didn’t check up here. You pad along the soft runner rug and peek into the bathroom before you approach the closed door of the study.

You touch the handle and a zing of fear courses through you. You should just go back to bed. You don’t need to know.

You turn it and inch inside, snaking your other hand in to flick on the lights. The same. Nothing there. You shut the door and proceed to the second bedroom, the door is slightly ajar so you kick it open with your foot and let the light in the hallway pour in. Empty.

You’re imagining things. It’s being in this strange house. Whenever you stayed the night at your grandmother’s it was the same thing. If you weren’t awake, waiting for the creaks of the house to prove something sinister, you were trapped in shallow night terrors that felt too real.

You return to the bedroom. You don’t turn off the light right away. You grab your charger and plug in your phone, opening up the white noise app you never used. You scroll through the choices with their dreamy names; serenity, fantasy, rejuvenation…

Your thumb hovers over the start button as you hear something else. Muffled and hollow. You frown, you can’t tell if it’s real or your mind playing tricks. There’s such a surreal distant effect to the scream that you can’t be sure it’s not some stray cat yowling in the street. The silence that ensues feeds your doubt. You’re looking for peculiarities, that’s all.

You press play on the soothing wishing noises and set your phone on the night table. You get up to shut off the lights and quickly nestle into bed, pulling a pillow over your head to block out the room. You just need to make it through the first night.

🖤

The next day, you leave earlier than usual. The change in your bus route and prospect of a narrow transfer from one bus to the next, has you anxious. Before you leave, you double check that you have your bus pass and some spare change just in case. You hook your bag around your shoulder, the security system announcing your exit; ‘front door open’.

You pull the door shut and hit the lock icon on the pad. You test the handle to make sure it’s closed and for a moment, you’re disoriented as you hear the door unlock but it doesn’t budge. You frown and look up as a shadow emerges from the unit next to yours. It wasn’t your door.

A man with long brown hair poking out from under a ball cap turns to punch in his code before locking it. The pad flashes red confirming the door is secured. He scowls at the handle as he drops his arm straight, his hand balling to a fist as he mutters.

“Morning,” you greet, the typical squeaky greeting you give to your neighbours.

He winces and turns as he looks up at you. You must’ve surprised him. You give an apologetic wave and tight-lipped smile. His blue eyes shock you, bold but bright in his chiseled face. He tilts his head slightly before he spins without response and stalks away. You watch his broad shoulders as he marches across the street without looking.

Not the friendliest of neighbours but the first one you’ve encountered. It’s a little less offputting knowing you’re not the only one around. You let out a long breath and make your way down the paved pathway to the sidewalk. You peek back at the unit next door. The curtains are drawn and the place looks dark even at the peak of day.

You shrug it off. You should only be there for a couple more days. That’s it. That’s all you have to get through.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #au #series #multifandom #blind offer #mcu #marvel #captain america #avengers

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