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#dark!steverogers
cissywritess · 8 months
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Teachers pet
Summary: your professor has interest in you.
Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers x reader
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Warning: 18+ dark themes, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.
From day one, he had his eyes on you. He didn’t give a fuck if you were his student. You were pure. Untouched. Something he craved.
And when he asked you to go to a cafe with him as a “friendly gesture” you didn't hesitate to say yes and jump on the opportunity. After that, you noticed that your grade in his class went up a significant amount. When you asked about it he said your work was very inspirational.
You and Steve, he asked you to please call him Steve as it felt like you two were good friends,
You didn’t think any of it as he didn't ask for anything and he rarely asked you questions like any guy who was interested in you would ask.
You were oblivious about everything and that turned him on. Every night he would jerk off of the thought of your pretty plumped lips around his cock. He’d even get hard in class while you chewed your pencil eraser.
One particular day he asked you to stay after class.
“ I have a question,” he said, at first you thought this was about your homework or something but then he asked “Would you like to go out with me,”
You were shocked at his question, “that’s inappropriate Steve, I’m sorry but I’m your student and your my teacher, it better if we’re just friends,” you told him. You wouldn’t lie he wasn’t ugly but you liked this class and you wouldn’t jeopardize it.
Steve was taken aback, his face showed no emotion but deep down he was pissed. When he didn’t say anything you spoke,
“Steve?”
“It’s Professor Rogers,” his tone was strict.
You wouldn’t lie that it didn’t hurt a little, you didn’t say anything more and left when he said you should leave.
You were surprised when your grade dropped to a D- when it was at an A. And when you told him about it he said that you were doing a bad job and that u need improvement and that the school gives out free tutor lessons. You were hurt, and you had sensitive feelings which didn't help your case.
A couple of days later you couldn't help but notice he was giving a lot of attention to a girl in the same class as you. He would ask her to stay after class almost every day and when you went to the cafe where they share their WiFi with students you’d see them together.
You were supposed to be a good girl just like your mother always told you but you couldn’t help but feel envy. The treatment he is giving her he was giving it to you.
You were so emotional that it started to affect you. So you stopped going to his classes altogether.
He noticed. when you heard a knock on your small apartment door you didn't think any of it. When you opened it there he was. You were stunned when you were about to ask what he was doing here he let himself in.
“I've missed you, sweetheart” he looked around your apartment examining it.
“I'm sorry sir but you have to leave now’s not a good time,” you practically mumbled.
He groaned at the name you given him. “Say that again it makes me hard,”
You almost gasped, what is wrong with him you thought. He walked past you, and instead of walking out he closed the door and locked it. Now you were scared. He removed his jacket and made his way towards you.
“What are you-” he shushes you. His hands make it around your waist you tried to take his hands off of you but he was too strong. He pulled you in and took a long sniff of your hair. You felt tears forming in the corners of your eyes.
He made his way toward your neck but he stopped at your ear. “Make one fucking noise and I will kill you,” he whispered it to you.
You were shocked that you didn't feel him biting and kissing your sweet spots on your neck.
He lead you to your room, you suspected he’s been here before because he didn’t ask where it was.
“You don’t know how much control you have over me,” he pushed you on the bed, you quickly tried to run away but he pulled your hair yanking you back.
He undid your clothes when he had you right under him while he straddled you to keep you in place. He then shed his own clothes. Everything was happening so fast you didn’t react until his tip was teasing your folds. You were about to scream on the top of your lungs he covered your mouth and nose. You tried to get him off but he didn’t budge one bit. You panicked once you realized what he was doing, which made you run out of oxygen faster.
As you were about to black already seeing black dots he finally let you breathe. But he didn’t stop there he gave you a hard smack on your face. You felt the sting and heat of it instantly.
“Shut the fuck up,” he said harshly. Seconds later he thrusted into you, as he stretched your walls you felt the pain as he didn’t let you adjust.
“I know you love this you little slut,” he spat in your face, when you finally adjusted after a few for thrusts you soon felt some type of pleasure. You bit your tongue to keep your moans in.
It felt like forever when you tried to close your eyes and think of something else he would snack you hard. You tried begging him but it only turned him on more.
You suddenly started to feel a knot in your stomach. “I-I need to pee,” you choked out but he didn’t stop.
You couldn’t hold in your moan when you climaxed and that almost sent Steve over the edge. You thought he was gonna come but he didn’t stop.
You came another time and another and another and so on until your choked on your sobs and begged him to stop.
He buried his face into your neck as he came groaning. You hoped he would leave but his cock stayed right in you as he moved to the side to spoon you. He kissed you on your head and put his heavy arm over you making it impossible for you to move. You were left stunned that whole night, processing what just happened.
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rogersbarber · 3 months
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All fics and blogs recommendations!!
Will be updated once in a while to add new fics recommendations!
ALL the credits belongs to the amazing blogs who write this fics 🫶🏼
WARNING: some of this fics are +18 so please read carefully and definitely follow this blogs bc they're great ❤️
If anyone wishes to be removed from this recommendation post, please let me know, last thing I want is upset you! It's completely fine, I'm truly just here to support this amazing blogs that have incredible content ❤️
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@biteofcherry
@eloquentreverie
@hansensgirl
@katherineswritingsblog ( and @universehasitspath89 )
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@wiypt-writes ( @spectre-posts / @what-is-your-plan-today )
@kinanabinks
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@the-iceni-bitch
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FOLLOW THIS AMAZING PEOPLE BUT REMEMBER ALSO RESPECT THEM 🩷
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nocturne-pisces · 2 years
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DILF/Best friend’s dad!Steve Rogers! You’ve always been close with Eliana, you were over at her house so often that her father the Steve Rogers, often joked you knew their home better than they did. You’re as rocked by the divorce as she is, and after being invited to stay for the summer, you take the opportunity to comfort your friend, even if the sight of her father gives you goosebumps. You’re older now, wiser. And besides, what’s a little harmless flirting between family friends, right?
😈
Fabric Softener
Dark!BestFriendsDad!Steve x PlusSize!Reader x Dark!Neighbor!Bucky
warnings: noncon, threats of violence, mean!steve, meaner!bucky. i am not responsible for your media consumption.
Series Masterlist
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notes: this is for @boxofbonesfic 7k Monkey’s Paw Challenge. you deserve each and every follower, thank you for letting me participate.
wc: 1.2k
thank you to @branded--with--a--j for beta’ing 💚
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You were just trying to help him with the laundry, lifted up on your tip toes and explaining which detergent wouldn’t bleach the blues out of his favorite t-shirt when his fingers tangled into the hair at the base of your skull.
“Y’know, I’ve really gotta thank El for having such good taste in friends.”
His hips pinned yours against the washer, the steely length of him pressing into your ass cheek.
“Mr. Rogers, please—“
“Baby, I told you, call me Steve. We’ve only known each other since you and El met in high school. I even helped you unpack your dorm, I’d say we’re pretty close at this point.”
“Steve, don’t do this-“
He pulls your body ever tighter against his own, close enough for him to lean in and whisper into your ear.
“Don’t do what, sweetness?” The hand that wasn’t anchored to your scalp snaked its way around your waist, dipping under the waistband of your shorts and panties. “You think I don’t see how you look at me? You think I haven’t noticed how you gotta rub those soft fuckin’ thighs together every time I get close?” His middle finger slips between your folds, finding your clit and circling it slowly.
“Eliana will hear and she’ll come looking for me, you won’t get away with it.” Despite your threat your knees threatened to give out, your legs shaking from the building tension between your thighs. You feel him laugh more than you hear it, the contractions in his chest reminding you how much muscle he could use against you, much more than he was currently.
“Eliana took her Ambien twenty minutes ago. She hasn’t been sleeping so well since Sharon left. Come to think of it, neither have I.” Your whole body tensed as his tongue left a stripe of cooling saliva up your neck, stopping right below your ear.
“Mr. Rogers, please just let me go, I won’t tell anyone.” His finger stopped its ministrations against your clit, diving deeper to find the already primed entrance of your empty cunt waiting for him.
“I know you won’t tell, sweetheart, because you know what I’m capable of.”
He untangles his fingers from your hair and slams you forward by the back of your neck, a yelp escaping your throat as your face met the washer lid. You felt him bend over you, laying his weight across your back as he ruts himself against your clothed ass.
“You won’t tell anyone because you know all I would have to do is squeeze and you’d be done for.” You felt the tears slip over the bridge of your nose, collecting in a small puddle on the metal under you.
He holds you down with one hand, the other jerking your shorts down to web between your thighs. “Open those legs for me,” he cooed. You did as you were told, widening your stance as much as you could. “Goddamn, such a pretty pussy.”
You thought he was just looking, that he would be content to get a glimpse and let you go- but the sudden burning stretch of him plunging into you jolted you out of your pipe dream. He gave you no time to adjust, no time to get accustomed to his girth. “Oh, fuck, that’s tight.”
“Steve-“ you plead, your arms bracing against the washer as you try to push up.
“Be good for me, I don’t want to dig up the backyard tonight.”
You drop your weight back onto the washer, the burning in your chest from your sobs confusing as the pain morphs into a sick pleasure. You can feel your own wetness around him, feel how your cunt has betrayed you as your lunch crawls up your esophagus.
A rap on the garage door has you scrambling up and trying to get away, but Steve’s iron grip keeps you locked against him, your pussy fluttering around his length.
“Come on in, Buck,” he calls, his hips rutting erratically and making you whimper.The door swings open to reveal his best friend and next door neighbor, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth as he takes in your soft form held against Steve’s.
“Aw, buddy, you started without me? I’m wounded.” He and Steve share a look, dark and consuming, predator appreciating predator.
Bucky takes a step closer to you, his hand coming up to pinch your chin, turning your gaze to meet his. “Mr. Barnes, please help me.” Your face crumbles, your last ditch effort to appeal for sympathy dashed as he mocks your desperate expression.
“I don’t like it when they talk, I just wanna hear you choke.” You force your eyes shut, will your psyche to crack and take you far away from here, but a sudden sharp, burning pain to your cheek makes them fly open again. “Eyes on me,” Bucky commands, letting his belt hit the floor before he pulls his jeans and boxers down to the middle of his thighs.
He’s already rock hard, his cock jutted out and bobbing when he hops up to sit on the washer. Your head is wrenched back again, Steve spitting words down into your ear as you tremble. “No teeth, sweetness, or I’ll remove ‘em myself.”
You barely have time to register what he means before he’s positioning your face over Bucky’s lap. Steve pins your elbows to your ribs on either side and lets his best friend take hold of your hair, pushing you down on his cock until he hits the back of your throat. Immediately your body tenses up with a gag, a low groan coming from behind you.
“Shit, Buck, do that again. This pussy is gonna choke the life outta me.” And he does, this time pushing down hard enough that the head of him pops into your throat. It burns, makes your thighs clench together with restraint, and both men moan out. “She clamps down every time you fuck her mouth,” Steve says, a chuckle rising from his chest as he pulls out only to slam back into you- making your head dive deeper onto Bucky’s length.
Both of your arms are tugged behind your back, Steve’s free hand snaking back to your front to apply pressure to your already throbbing clit. Bucky leans back against the cabinet, guiding your mouth around him every time Steve pushes you forward. You try to wriggle away from Steve’s exploratory fingers but you only succeed in pushing back into him, the lack of oxygen from Bucky fucking your throat making you dizzy and sensitive.
You feel your impending orgasm creeping up on you, the knot in your tummy tightening. You try to tell them to wait, that you don’t want this- but you only manage to gurgle around Bucky, his hips lifting to meet your face as his rhythm becomes sloppy. His grip on your hair tightens and you lose the ability to control your breathing, the edges of your vision darkening as your orgasm hits you.
“Are you cumming, sweetness?” His tone is incredulous, amused that your body has given in to him so completely. You only have time to register Bucky spilling down your throat before the darkness overtakes you, your body limp in their hold.
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When you wake up on the couch, a blanket draped over you, you can hear them talking from the kitchen.
“So, Sharon is picking up Eliana tomorrow?” It’s Bucky’s voice, coming from a bar stool at the kitchen island.
“Yeah, but sweetness over there told her parents she was staying all summer.”
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delldenaro · 5 months
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Steve Rogers
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Dark 🖤☠️
Persistence (@darkficsyouneveraskedfor)
Show some respect (@straywords)
The masks we wear (@darkficsyouneveraskedfor)
It’s only natural (@kinanabinks)
Proud no more (@dungeonpuppykai)
His return (@royalsweetteaa)
Ruining America’s sweetheart (@decitfuldevout)
I Can see you (@georgiapeach30513)
What you can do for your country (@kriebr)
One night only (@targaryenvampireslayer)
Captains reward (@evansbby)
Ex husband (it’s light) (@biteofcherry)
Easy Luxury (@highonmarvel)
Sugar sugar (@darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor)
Drain you (@darkficsyouneveraskedfor)
Better than he can (@darkficsyouneveraskedfor)
On demand (@darkficsyouneveraskedfor)
Your mark on me (it's light) (@georgiapeach30513)
Isolation (@highonmarvel)
Spicy 🌶️🔥
Make me a daddy (@f10werfae)
Video games lover (@dungeonpuppykai)
Warm you up (@rogerswifesblog)
Let's play (@darkficsyouneveraskedfor)
Affair (@hansensgirl)
Run away (@biteofcherry)
Teacher's Pet (@stevierogersbabygirl)
Feel the burn (@boxofbonesfic)
Cute 💖
I need you to listen (@frostironfudge)
Nesting (@biteofcherry)
Happily Married (@evansbby)
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The Reckoning
Dark Alternate Universe
(Steve Rogers/OC Tony Stark’s Daughter)
*Description *
In a world where Crime Bosses and corrupt Politicians rule, the Stark and Rogers families had once been allies in the business of organized crime until Howard Stark decided to screw Joseph Rogers over in a deal that cost the head of the Rogers family his life. Their sons had a short lived truce to try to end the feud, but it would end quickly when Tony Stark steals away a woman Steve Rogers once believed he loved deeply. Between that and watching the grief from the loss of his father destroy his mother, Steve vows revenge in such a way that it will be a reckoning against Tony like no other, the most unexpected takedown he could never see coming. The key to Steve's revenge is Tony's only child and heir, his beautiful 18 year old daughter. Alexandra Stark was born into a world her father tried to keep her out of as much as possible, though she would one day be running his empire as the famed bachelor's only child. Her late mother had signed away her rights at birth per Tony's request so he could keep her mother's family away, a very rich and politically well positioned family that will become an unexpected ally for Steve in the war against Tony. They're a family with their own motives to see Tony get his comeuppance, as they blame him for the death of Alexandra's mother after Tony wouldn't allow her to change her mind about giving up her daughter and fell into a path that lead to her death before her baby turned one. The head of the family ensures once Alexandra is of age to find a way to get to know her by offering her a job as one of his interns, which puts Alexandra right in Steve's path and she's easily charmed by him. What is to become of her now? Can Steve Rogers succeed in his plan to not only take Tony down but also take his daughter from him? Where does she stand in this? Will Alexandra learn the truth of her mother and from who? What path will she choose when it comes to Steve and her new found family? Will Tony Stark see his day of reckoning for his sins?
Steve Rogers Fic Master List
Main Master List
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thenatashamaximoff · 10 months
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Whispers In The Dark
Summary: When a casual one night stand develops into a deeper, forbidden love, you and Wanda try to keep your relationship a secret as you navigate the challenges of balancing your growing emotions with the fear of being caught.
Pairing: Wanda x Reader
Warnings: 18+ (no smut)
Words: 6,462
┌─────────────ᗢ─────────────┐ @diaryoflife @women-am-i-right @creatively-analytical @obsessed-with-wandamaximoff @beforeoursecrets @iliketozoneout @olsensnpm @hoefnagel └─────────────ᗢ─────────────┘ ┌─────────────∞─────────────┐ @myfavoriteficss @pinkytoecrust @cyncity32 @romanoffomixam @peachbear88 @magicallymaximoff @therealmeari @peggycarter-steverogers @ba-romanoff @natashabelovas @morbid-gaymer @reminiscingtonight @when-wolves-howl @idontknownemore @natashasilverfox @sayah13 @fuxk182 @scarletwitchofthewilds @natashamaximoff69 @wuwu96 @jsonebraincell @whendarknessturns​ @marvel4liferz └─────────────∞─────────────┘
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⚠️IMPORTANT ARTHOR’S NOTE: The following story (or following chapters) will not include detailed moments of smut. However, it does contain enough sexual content that I feel more comfortable labeling it NSFW/18+/MDNI. With that being said, read at your own discretion. Enjoy.
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The extremely comfortable bed you were laying on beckoned you to stay put, the weight of the covers over your body engulfing you in a warmth you didn't want to disrupt. It was hard to stay awake when you were so perfectly nestled in like a swaddled newborn. You had to find the energy to toss the covers off of you, though your limbs didn't seem to want to really move at the moment. Yet, with the seemingly loud vibration hammering away on the nightstand next to you, you were being signaled that it was time to get up.
Wait a minute… you don't own a nightstand yet.
You turned your head, the confusion evaporating quickly as you realized exactly where you were. You remember the bar, the attractive woman you knew you wanted the second you were aware of her presence, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. And you couldn't help but smile when you remembered just how successful you were in accomplishing that. But now it was almost six in the morning and you had to get ready for work.
You didn't want to wake her up. The slivers of light sneaking past the curtains to show the peacefulness across her face in the midst of slumber was the best thing you've ever seen. You didn't want to be that kind of one-night stand, being unnecessarily loud, not even being thoughtful of the one who doesn't need to wake up at the ass crack of dawn. No, you were going to be considerate and make a quiet move to the bathroom.
You kicked your feet over the bed, but you still weren't entirely used to the fact that a nightstand was present. You bit your tongue when your leg smacked into the front of the bedside table with a loud thump, and you weren't quick enough to catch the falling lamp, flinching when it fell to the floor with a crash.
A peal of light laughter came from behind you as you stood up, bringing the sheet along with you and using your phone to survey the damage done to the lamp. And, boy, that lamp did not survive that fall.
"I'll pay for that," you said, looking toward her. How does that even happen? The one time you wanted to make a smooth exit and the nightstand wanted to put up a fight. An inanimate object was your downfall this early in the morning and there was absolutely nothing you could do about it. "I'm sorry to wake you."
You were defeated.
"Are you getting in the shower?" Her voice was soft with no hint of annoyance in her tone. Was she not mad at you for pulling her out of the pits of her deep slumber? You'd be pretty annoyed that you were woken up by your one-night stand at six in the morning because they couldn't handle the nightstand.
She should at least be mad about the lamp. 
"Uh, yeah?" You wonder if that was okay. This wasn't your place, after all. Yours wasn't completely unpacked yet and you didn't want someone as gorgeous as her to see that storage container apartment you got going on.
She moved to flick on the lamp resting on the nightstand that hasn't embarrassed you (yet), replacing the morning sunrise slipping through the closed curtains with a brighter, artificial light. She ran a hand through her hair, getting some of it out of her face, as she sat up in the bed. You couldn’t help but stare at her - the way she tugged those locks brought memories rushing into your mind as you subconsciously brought your bottom lip in between your teeth in a gentle bite. "I'll join you," she said.
"You'll… what?" The smile she sent you at your confusion made your heart skip more than just a couple of beats. "Uh, we just met last night… in a bar, no less."
She raised an eyebrow, though the smile still remained on her face. "We also just slept together, Y/N. It's nothing I haven't seen."
You swallowed the saliva forming in your mouth so hard that it made the actual gulping noise. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment once more as you looked away from her, scratching the back of your neck. "That's fair," you confessed. You looked back at her and laughed as she hopped out of the bed with a smoothness that you wished you had earlier. It would've saved you from a lifetime of embarrassment.
She raced you to the bathroom, making you laugh harder at her little victory yelp when she beat you there. You wrapped your arms around her, bringing her close as you used your foot to close the door behind you.
It has been only a few hours since you parted ways. You walked down the halls, your mind occupied by… her. Her face, her hands, her smile and touch and laugh. You remembered every single second about last night and you just wanted to do it all over. Relive it once more. But you know how a one-night stand works, and there's a high possibility that you'll never see that woman ever again.
"Ma'am." You turned your head on instinct to see someone running up to you, holding a clipboard out along with a pen. "Just need a quick signature."
"What's your name?" you questioned as you accepted the items she was holding for you.
"Jennifer, ma'am," she answered, even throwing a little bow in there. You couldn't help but shake your head with a smile, quickly scanning the paper before scribbling your signature over the line, turning your head to meet her gaze.
"It's nice to meet you," you told her. Your eyes were drawn to something over her shoulder like a magnet to metal, your next words getting caught in your throat when you saw her leaning against the wall, focusing intently on the person she was talking to. You handed the woman the clipboard (her name was irrelevant now, you couldn't think of anything coherent at the moment) as you walked past her like a zombie ambling toward fresh brains.
You reached Wanda, looking at the agent she was conversing with. It only took mere eye contact for the man to send you a stiff nod before immediately walking away, turning to look at her.
"What're you doing here?"
She crossed her arms over her chest, almost just as confused as you were. "I work here." The crease in between your eyebrows only deepened with more confusion. "I'm an Avenger." Even with her clarification, it didn't make it any more clear to you. You don't remember her name on the list. She must be a new recruit. "Why are you here?"
You opened your mouth to answer but were interrupted when someone stepped up to you.
"We're ready for you, Director." You looked at the older man, reading his name badge as Phil Coulson. That answered her question for you, your eyes going back to Wanda to see the raised eyebrow and tight lips.
"Director?" She looked away from you, getting herself lost in thought. "Well, that's not going to work well."
You cleared your throat, your jaw clenching tightly as you turned to the agent. "Thanks, Coulson. I'll be there in a moment."
Coulson sent you a nod and left the two of you be, turning back to Wanda. As she tried to wrap her mind around what was happening, you waited for Coulson to be completely out of earshot.
"Why didn't you tell me that you're a new Avenger?"
"Probably the same reason you didn't mention that you're the new director," she countered.
You opened your mouth on instinct to rebuttal but closed it when you realized she had a point. You groaned, running your hands down your face. This is the worst-case scenario. It would've been better if you never saw her again compared to this, though just the thought of that pulled your heartstrings. You don’t really know how to imagine never meeting her.
"You're the boss," she said, once again pulling you out of your thoughts, "aren't you supposed to at least know who the Avengers are?"
"They sent the files, but I didn't read them," you confessed. "I wanted to meet the team members face to face." You did, however, read the names on the files and she wasn't there. You said her name so many times last night, you'd definitely remember seeing it on a folder. She must've been a last-minute addition, SHIELD not having enough time before your first day to compile and send over a file. 
At the same time, would you have been able to stop yourself from approaching her at the bar? No. The way her lips formed a pout made you want to do anything to wipe that away, so you would've ignored logic and spoken to her. You still would've made her laugh. You still would've made her smile for the first time in what seemed like forever. You still would've made her moan and pant your name as your skins melded together underneath her blankets, lightly scratching her back as she made you-
"Where did you just go?" She snapped you out of your thoughts again, but this time you were a bit upset about it. Your cheeks flushed red, burning hot. The smirk on her face told you that she had an idea, but you shook your head and ignored her question. 
"You are aware that this… thing can't happen anymore, right?" As your finger bounced in between you and her, her smile expanded, tinged with a mischievous glint that hinted at something devious lurking beneath. You found yourself needing to bite your tongue harshly in hopes that the pain would distract you from the warmth igniting in your gut.
"Obviously," she assured you and you sighed with relief. Now that the two of you were on the same page, maybe now you can stop stressing out about it. You knew for certain that you wouldn't be able to hold back when it came to her, so it was nice to see that at least one of you had some self-control. Quite honestly, the only thing stopping you from dragging her to your office and feeling her right then and there was the fact that you don't exactly know where your office was located just yet.
Maybe someday…
No. The relationship between you and Wanda Maximoff could not come to be. No matter how strong the connection, how tempted you’d be, it could never come to fruition. The unfortunate reality was that your relationship with the woman standing in front of you had to end before it even began.
That thought abandoned your mind when you watched her teeth catch her bottom lip, raising an eyebrow at you seductively. Your breath caught in your throat and your thoughts immediately became a jumbled, contradicting mess. She laughed as you finally managed to utter, "You're going to get me fired, Wanda."
"Director." You didn't turn, losing yourself in her eyes. You wanted to touch her. To take her face in your hands and connect your lips right at this moment, in front of everybody. New job be damned. And the annoyance that demanded your attention cleared their throat impatiently.
You turned your head to look at the addition to your conversation to see Coulson standing there, nodding his head at Wanda, a sign for her to skedaddle.
"I'll see you later, Director," Wanda hummed as she walked away, your head turning back so you could watch her leave.
"It's been more than a moment," Coulson pointed out, forcing yourself to tear your eyes away from Wanda's retreating figure to look at him.
You blinked. "What?"
"You're late," he clarified.
Your eyes widened. "Oh, right! What are you waiting for, Coulson? Let's get a move on." You gestured for him to lead the way, patting him on the shoulder when he rolled his eyes and turned his back on you.
"It's a good thing you're getting acquainted with the Avengers," he said as you walked alongside him. "You two know each other?"
"Not at all," you stated.
He hummed thoughtfully, clearly not believing you in the least bit. "That was Wanda Maximoff. She's got magic hands."
The snort that escaped your nose was involuntary. "She does indeed." You hadn't realized you said it until Coulson stopped moving to stare at you, his eyebrows bunched together, bewildered. You cleared your throat, your back straightening as you clarified, "That's what she told me earlier. She just didn't really tell me what she meant by it." You were right, there is no longer any more doubt in your mind that she was definitely going to get you fired. "Why don't you tell me more about Maximoff?" Though phrased as a question, he knew it wasn't one.
He continued forward and you easily matched his speed, walking alongside him. "She has a long list of powers," he started. "Telekinesis, energy and mind manipulation, and she can read thoughts. I’m willing to bet there’s more, she just hasn’t unlocked them yet."
You stopped walking this time, trying hard to keep your composure. "Mind reading?" So, she definitely knew what you had been thinking about earlier. "That's… nice to know." 
Observing your reaction to the subject being discussed, he quickly decided to switch gears. “Well, she’s not the only one on the team. There are other Avengers you have yet to meet. We’ll start with…” He gestured for you to follow as he led you through a set of doors, revealing a sprawling laboratory that occupied most of the floor.
Pausing at the entrance, you watched as Tony Stark worked intently on a holographic keyboard. It was only when Coulson began walking deeper into the lab that you followed, cautiously advancing until you stood in close proximity to the brilliant inventor.
"Who's disturbing my bubble?" The hologram vanished as his fingers moved away from it, turning his head to look at you.
"New director," Coulson explained. "We're just making the rounds and you're the first stop."
"Y/N," you extended your hand towards him. His gaze shifted from your hand to your eyes and, in that moment, it became abundantly clear that he was not going to meet the handshake. You quickly withdrew your hand and let it fall to your side.
"Tony Stark, but you already knew that." He smiled at you, though it seemed a bit forced as his eyes assessed you from head to toe, sizing you up. "You're a bit young to be a director of something like SHIELD, aren't you?"
You couldn’t help but feel a surge of annoyance at his comment. Without thinking, the words slipped out before you could sensor yourself, "You're a bit old to be playing dress-up, aren't you?" As soon as your response left your mouth, you realized the potential consequences of your remark. Insulting the man who was throwing a lot of his money into this agency was not the smartest move. All it would take is a simple “adios” and you’d be out of a job.
To your surprise, Tony simply smiled widely and extended his hand toward you. Stunned, you accepted the strong handshake. “It’s refreshing to have someone bite back," he said, glancing at Coulson. "Take notes."
"Yes, sir," Coulson agreed, nodding with a forced smile. You couldn't help but grin, crossing your arms over your chest.
As Coulson gestured for you to follow him, you lingered for a moment to watch Tony go back to work, biting on a pen when he watched a small simulation of his suit taking on a battle, to which the suit loses. He huffed in exasperation, taking the pen out of his mouth and tossing it aside. It made you wonder how long he had been tirelessly working on this project.
"I know someone who specializes in nanotech if that's something you're interested in," you confidently suggested, capturing the billionaire's attention. Ignoring Coulson’s constant attempts to guide you away, you continued, "I can introduce you to her if you'd like."
A spark of curiosity ignited in Tony’s eyes as he reached for the pen he had just thrown, handing it to you along with a scrap of paper. With a grin, you swiftly scribbled down the specialist’s name, eager to offer a valuable connection. Tony glanced at Coulson with piqued interest, “Where’d you find this one?”
“She found us, sir,” Coulson replied, monotonously, before subtly guiding you out of the lab with a hand on your back. "The rest of the team would be a lot easier to please."
"I'm not looking to please them." Well, not all of them, at least. There was one person you found yourself wanting to please more than most. She did things to you that you just can't ignore. "My job is to lead them. I'm not here to make friends." Or lovers, but you refrained from adding that.
"Nice to know," he stated, leading the way into the training room. "Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff, meet your new director."
The pair, entangled in a fierce sparring session, paused and separated as Coulson made the introduction. It was evident that they were skilled fighters, evenly matched and fully engrossed in their training. Or they were just taking it easy. Friends normally don’t beat the shit out of each other just for fun. You shook their hands.
“Directors usually don’t properly introduce themselves,” Clint remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice as he rested his hands on his hips with a heavy breath. “They just read our files and assume they know us.”
“They sent the files, but I didn’t bother with them,” you confessed, shrugging loosely. “Bonds grow stronger when everybody’s on the same page, not reading personnel off of a piece of paper.” Glancing at Coulson, you added, “I’m making this guy walk me around the building to introduce me to the team face-to-face.”
Natasha raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing on her lips as her arms folded over her chest. “Did you meet Steve yet?” Coulson fidgeted for a moment beside you, and one of your brows quirked up with interest at the sound of her teasing tone.
“I’m sure he’s next,” you replied, a faint smirk lifting a corner of your mouth when the redhead’s smile only grew wider. “I’m sensing an inside joke here.”
“Coulson is a bit of a fan of Rogers,” she explained.
“I have all his trading cards,” Coulson interjected, cutting the conversation off before it went much further. “We should get to it.”
“Can’t wait to see him, huh?” she joked, her grin turning sly as she stepped back. While they returned to their sparring, you and Coulson made your way out of the room.
“All of his trading cards?” you asked. “Do you have them laminated?”
“Each and every one of them,” he confirmed, and you could sense the pride hiding in his words.
He led you into the war room, where Steve Rogers stood, engrossed in a discussion with other agents about an ongoing mission. As the two of you entered, the captain’s attention shifted, and he straightened up, displaying his characteristic posture.
“Captain Rogers, this is Y/N, the new director,” Coulson announced, adopting a more professional demeanor in front of the patriotic hero. Natasha’s description of him being a fan seemed under-exaggerated, but maybe that was the point. You’re relieved to see that the team wasn’t all as serious as Coulson here.
“Good morning, ma’am,” Steve greeted respectfully, offering a small nod from his position across the table.
You pressed your lips together, a mischievous grin forming as his eyes traveled up and down your figure. “I know you all think I have big shoes to fill,” you began, acknowledging the weight of the previous director’s legacy. “Nick Fury was one of the best, but I’m here to bring about change. I’m not looking to repeat history.”
“I can respect that,” Steve commented, crossing his arms over his chest. A slight smile tugged at his lips, and you could feel Coulson’s subtle restlessness next to you. He was clearly worried you might embarrass him.
“What’s your current mission?” you asked, leaving Coulson’s side to join Steve at the table, studying the scattered papers.
“We’re dealing with drug dealers hijacking ambulances for narcotics,” he explained, arranging the papers to give you a better view. 
You looked up at him, a hint of surprise on your face. "I didn't expect a big-time Avenger to be doing a simple drug bust," you commented.
"You’re not the only one around here looking to make changes," he said. 
You grinned. "I can respect that."
Coulson cleared his throat and you both looked over him. "If you'll excuse us, Captain. We have a busy day ahead.”
"Of course," Steve said. "It was a pleasure meeting you."
"As you, Cap." You accepted his hand when he offered it over the table, giving a strong, brief handshake before releasing you. You walked behind Coulson as you left the room, grinning widely as you moved to his side. As soon as you were clear from Steve's earshot, you spoke. "You're jealous." It wasn't a question, and Coulson didn't show any expression in the statement. What did it take to coax a genuine smile out of this stoic guy?
"Thor is off-world dealing with some other stuff," Coulson said, ultimately ignoring your comment. “Banner has been MIA since the incident in Sokovia. And, since you’re already acquainted with Maximoff, I’ll show you to your office.”
Your heart fluttered at her name, immediately looking away from him to hide the faded blush forming on your cheeks. Why did her name make you feel this way? You had just only met her last night, so there weren't any long-time feelings between the two of you. But just thinking about her is taking away your ability to breathe. You didn’t struggle to follow your tour guide, but you did have trouble straightening your mind. You had hoped these introductions would last longer, giving you more time to avoid having to deal with everything. But without any distractions, you were forced to succumb to the realization that Wanda Maximoff was going to be in your life for as long as you were the director.
"Here." You released a deep sigh when Coulson finally stopped to gesture towards a door, giving you the distraction you needed to catch your breath. “This is your office.” You released a puff of air at the closed door, your name engraved on a plate nailed in place. You couldn’t let the emotions get to you - not in front of Coulson, at least - but this seemed to have made your title a lot more official. “The door’s unlocked.” If you didn’t know any better, that was a passive way of rushing you. “We also left you a little treat as a welcome present.”
Your hand pressed down on the handle, pushing slowly against the door with the agent right on your heels, and you managed to look up just in time to see something in your office that was most definitely not Coulson’s “little treat.” You quickly backed out of the room, bringing the door with you as you turned to face him. A nervous laugh nearly crawled out of your throat, but you managed to swallow it just in time. “I’m pretty sure I can handle this part on my own, Coulson.” The man didn’t argue with you, shrugging and walking away without another word as you slipped into your office. “What are you doing?”
“This isn’t the kitchen?” Wanda sat at your chair, not even bothering a glance in your direction as she casually ate what looked like a croissant (most likely the treat Coulson was referring to). You huffed, glancing over your shoulder as you made your way to the desk. Finally, she looked toward you, a smirk tugging a corner of her lips. “I could’ve sworn it was…”
With every step you took, your heart raced harder and faster. You couldn’t deny the intense attraction you felt towards the woman occupying your desk, even though it seemed so sudden and unexpected. She leaned back in your chair, crossing her legs and taking another bite of the croissant, slow and drawn out as she maintained eye contact with you. You couldn’t help but notice how the crumbs fell onto her lap, biting the inside of your cheek rather harshly as your breathing hitched in your throat.
“Is there something you need, Agent Maximoff?”
She quirked an eyebrow at you, though that smirk still lingered on her lips as she hummed thoughtfully before saying, “Agent Maximoff?”
You cleared your throat, trying to regain your composure. “That’s your name, isn’t it?” you replied.
“It is,” she answered, shrugging as she added, “but it’s a much different turn from what you were calling me last night.”
Her words hit you with surprising calmness, as if she were merely commenting on the weather. You struggled to hide the impact they had on you, the way they made your stomach twist and turn in a way that would make a professional dancer jealous. You had a job to do, and engaging in whatever this was with one of your employees was definitely not part of the job description.
You took a deep, steadying breath and reminded yourself of the boundaries that needed to be maintained. This was the type of position people would kill for (literally) and you didn’t want to blow it away by fraternizing. No matter how tempting the allure of a forbidden connection might be, you had to separate yourself from the matter. “I apologize if I gave you the wrong impression,” you expressed, your voice composed but firm. “Our interactions last night were outside the scope of our professional relationship. Neither you nor myself could’ve predicted this kind of… predicament. As of now, we need to focus on our respective roles within SHIELD.”
Wanda’s smirk faded slightly, and she leaned back in the chair. “Is that what you want?” she questioned, her tone holding a hint of defiance. “To just pretend like it never happened?”
You met her gaze - the way her eyes were soft nearly made you take back everything you had just said - but you maintained confidence in the matter, your expression determined to just rip this Band-Aid off and toss it in the garbage. “We have to be realistic, Agent Maximoff. We can not carry a personal relationship. It’s for the best if we maintain a professional distance moving forward.”
She sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly, and a flicker of disappointment passed through her eyes. “I understand,” she said quietly. She stood up, popping the rest of the croissant into her mouth, chewing it thoughtfully. “You want to carry on like strangers.” A friendly smile lifted her lips, and you could feel a tug against your heart at the sudden loss of warmth.
You nodded, standing your ground. “It’s the right thing to do,” you affirmed, but your voice wavered slightly as you cleared your throat. As you spoke, you couldn’t help but notice how slowly Wanda was approaching you, as if she were a lioness hunting a gazelle. Panic fluttered in your chest, causing you to take a small step back. You made the mistake of meeting her intense, dangerously hungry green eyes. “I’m the Director, you’re an Avenger,” you stammered, your confidence suddenly faltering. The realization of the inappropriate proximity between the two of you struck you like lightning as the back of your legs bumped into a couch you didn’t bother to notice when entering the office, stepping to the side so your back hit the wall behind you instead. Wanda was now mere inches away, her presence enveloping you. Panic and desire wrestled within you, making it hard to form coherent thoughts. “I’m your boss. We…” You trailed off, a sharp breath catching in your constricted throat.
At that moment, Wanda’s grin transformed into a wicked smirk, her eyes seemingly penetrating your very soul. The air between you crackled with tension, and you could feel the heat radiating from her body, or perhaps it was the fire building up behind your flushed cheeks.
You were torn between the weight of responsibility and the magnetic pull of desire. The line between professional boundaries and personal longing blurred as the intensity of the moment consumed you both. The electric pressure hung in the air, captivating you and her in a web of conflicting emotions. Time seemed to slow down as you battled with the overwhelming desire and the consequences of succumbing to it.
“We can’t…” you managed to utter, your voice barely above a whisper, the words feeling feeble against the mounting temptation. Every fiber of your being yearned to give in, to explore the forbidden depths of this connection with Wanda. But the weight of your position as her superior, the potential repercussions, and the need to maintain professionalism weighed heavily on your conscience.
Wanda’s smirk only grew more wicked, her eyes gleaming with mischief and raw hunger. She leaned in closer, her breath brushing across your lips as she whispered, her tone dripping with seduction, “Who says we can’t? Sometimes rules are meant to be broken.”
Your heart pounded in your chest, torn between reason and desire. You could feel the fire burning within you overwhelming any remnants of restraint. With a surge of courage, you closed the gap between you, surrendering to the intoxicating pull of her presence. The world around you faded away as your lips met in a fiery embrace, unleashing a torrent of passion that had been brewing beneath the surface. Walls crumbled, and the pressure of responsibility melted away as you both embraced that forbidden desire that had blossomed between you. In that stolen moment, you chose to abandon caution and surrender to the allure of a love that defied expectations. 
Wanda didn’t hesitate to return the kiss, making it more intense, more fervent. You were ultimately pinned against the wall by her body when she moved to get closer to you, feeling the tip of her tongue swipe your bottom lip, silently asking for permission, and she swallowed your moan when you granted it. Her hands gripped your hips to tug you flush into her, sparking a burning sensation in your core, and it only seemed to get hotter when her fingers danced up your body, slipping under your shirt to surf the smooth skin of your curves.
You pulled away breathlessly, your head falling back to the wall as her lips landed on your neck with no mercy, licking and sucking any spot she could touch. You attempted to say her name, to bring these overwhelming feelings to an end, but the only sound you could produce was a groan when her nails dug into you to leave crescent-shaped imprints on your shoulder blades. 
“You’re not doing a very good job at keeping things professional, Director,” she whispered, her lips suddenly brushing against your earlobe. She laughed, and your stomach tightened at the breathy sound so close to your ears. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were enjoying what I’m doing to you.” You gasped when her knee squeezed itself between your legs, pressing against you in a way that nearly had you whimpering. “I love the sounds you make for me, Y/N.”
“W- Wanda,” you whispered. “Ple…”
“That’s it, baby,” she breathed, laughing gently as she pulled away slightly to meet your gaze. Her eyes were dark with desire, hooded by a smoldering intensity that mirrored your own. “Tell me what you want.” She smirked, thoroughly enjoying this moment. “Do you want this?” She picked her knee up higher, pressing into you harder, causing your body to jerk forward at the feeling of her touch. Everything inside of you burned painfully, desperately. One of her hands descended across your spine, bringing it around to drag a finger down your gut until it reached the hem of your pants. Chills covered your arms when you felt her dive in without a second thought, an inhuman sound getting caught in your throat. The wide smile crawling on her face told you she found exactly what you wanted.
The sound of a knock on the door shattered the fragile bubble of intimacy that had enveloped you and Wanda. Time seemed to slow down as she moved away from you, your hearts pounding in sync. The handle turned, and your chest tightened with a surge of panic, fearing that your secret would be exposed.
With a casual nonchalance, Wanda stepped aside, effortlessly transitioning into a composed state. She sauntered over to the couch you had already forgotten about, settling herself as if nothing had happened. Meanwhile, you seemed to struggle to regain your composure, attempting to mask any signs of the passionate encounter that had just taken place.
The interrupter entered the room without a second knock, Phil Coulson pausing at the door when his eyes landed on Wanda before they flickered to you. He cleared his throat, crossing his hands in front of him as he said, “Am I interrupting something?”
“Just a meeting, Coulson,” you claimed confidently, fully collected at the sight of your deputy, raising an eyebrow at him as you folded your arms over your chest. “We just finished.”
“Not really,” Wanda countered, and you didn’t need to look at her to know there was a teasing smirk faintly tugging a corner of her lips, “but I’m more than willing to wait to thoroughly finish later on, Director.” You managed to fight the shivers that rode your body, but the chills that erupted across your spine were a different story. You wondered if Coulson could hear the way she calls you Director, or if it was all in your head. She stepped into your field of vision when she made her way toward the door, giving Coulson a happy smile as she rested her hand on the door handle. She looked at you over her shoulder, and you could feel your cheeks flush when you saw the darkened look in her eyes.
The door seemed to echo when she closed it behind her, sealing you and Coulson in the room. His words cut through the lingering tension, bringing your attention back to him. “I apologize for interrupting, ma'am,” he began, his voice laced with urgency, “but we have a bit of an emergency.” He stepped closer, holding a tablet that illuminated with an image on the screen. “It seems that Thor’s notorious brother, Loki, has returned to Earth.”
The weight of the situation settled upon you, dispelling the remnants of desire and reminding you of your responsibilities as a leader.  As Coulson played the video, you watched a seemingly ordinary scene: Loki calmly walking down a sidewalk. It felt odd to watch. Loki’s presence seemed to always bring a catalyst for chaos and destruction, so you find it difficult to believe that his return could just be taking a stroll, enjoying the sunshine.
Coulson’s gaze met yours, and you could see the faint colors of concern clouding his eyes. “We need to assess the situation and determine his intentions,” he expressed. “While it may seem inconspicuous now, we can’t underestimate the threat he poses.” The memory of Loki’s previous misdeeds lingered in your mind, a vivid reminder of the destruction he had wrought. It was clear that immediate action was necessary to prevent another catastrophe.
“I don’t want to waste time waiting for him to make a move,” you declared, your arms crossing firmly over your chest. Your gaze shifted back to the tablet, a sense of urgency seemingly squeezing your heart. “Loki didn’t return just to enjoy the scenery. Bring him in.”
Coulson nodded, tucking the tablet under his arm. “I’ll mobilize our resources and initiate the necessary protocols,” he affirmed, determination steeling his expression. “We’ll do everything in our power to locate and apprehend Loki swiftly.”
You strode purposefully past him, making your way to your desk. With a swift motion, you brushed away the loose croissant crumbs from the chair before settling down. As you took your seat, your voice carried an air of authority, “I trust you understand the importance of conducting this mission covertly.” Your attention moved away from the man standing in front of the door to one of the papers resting on the surface of your desk. “We cannot afford to have the public become aware of Loki’s presence, not after the chaos that ensued during his previous visit to our planet.”
He nodded in agreement. “I will assemble a team that can operate discreetly,” he replied.
“Make sure Maximoff is included in the roster,” you stated unequivocally, your voice firm and decisive as you reached for a pen.
Coulson hesitated, stepping forward to stand on the opposite side of your desk. He cleared his throat, attempting to voice his concerns, but you were quick to shut him down, “She may be fresh, but, from what you’ve told me about her, her powers have the potential to match Loki’s.” Your eyes locked onto his, and the next words that came from your mouth held a hint of a challenge. “Did you mislead me about her abilities, Deputy Coulson?”
His head shook vigorously. “No, ma'am,” he responded quickly, his tone filled with conviction.
“Then what seems to be the problem?” you pressed, a brow arching with curiosity.
He squirmed under your scrutinizing gaze, his discomfort palpable. “She hasn’t fully gained the trust of the others,” he claimed. 
A smile played at the corners of your lips as you leaned back in your chair, assessing Coulson intently while tapping the tip of the pen against your palm. “This mission presents the perfect opportunity for her to earn that trust,” you countered. “I don’t recall my orders being up for debate.”
“Understood, Director,” he responded, resolved. You could see the way his jaw tightened in irritation, but you chose to overlook it as he added, “Agent Maximoff will be included in the mission.” You nodded, acknowledging his commitment, and watched as he walked away, disappearing through the closing door.
As soon as the door clicked shut, you released a heavy sigh, feeling the full weight of being director bearing down on you. Exhaustion crept through your body, and you sank deeper into your chair, running a hand over your face in an attempt to dispel some of the weariness that had settled upon you. You tossed your pen back onto the desk when a realization dawned on you…
Today was just day one.
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espinosaurusrexex · 1 year
Text
Flooded
SteveRogers x Female!Reader
summary: There was something off in the air that morning - Y/N should have known. But bad things always happen when you least expect them. The life she was living was threatened by the one secret she hoped would never be revealed. And now that it had, there was no going back.
a/n: Welcome to heartbreak city! This is dedicated to my 2015 teen wolf obsession (make sure to tell me when you find the passage). I know it's sad and angsty; but I put a bunch of fluff in there too. I hope you enjoy - as always, feedback is appreciated!
word count: 5.5k
warnings: torture, trauma, drowning, experimenting on people (in flashbacks), mentions of abuse, mentions of dying, angst (in case that wasn't clear), swearing, idiots in love, fluff, and a happy ending :)
I don't think the bad parts are super descriptive, but please do not read if anything mentioned in the warnings makes you uncomfortable (18+ only!).
・゚✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 。✭・゚✶ 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ✧*・゚
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This just captures the vibe too well. You'll know the passage... i'll never fall in love with myself - Zeph
It’s normal to feel your heart in your head right? Like it’s pounding so hard that it literally makes your veins jump beneath your skin? There was a rush of adrenaline shooting through Y/N‘s Body. Pain sharp as lightning zickzacking its way down her spine and up again. Her lungs felt tight. Solid. As if they were of stone weighing her down and not giving in to her urge to breathe. It felt like that. And the look at the rusted metal door with the white number ’15’ brought back an awful lot of pain. Blue and green splashing their way through her brain, voices layering over one another, and a distinct smell of chemicals in her nose. Oh no. She was back there. Right now. How was that possible? How did it get that far? Were there not a bunch of people making sure that this would never happen to her again? A shiver overtook her but at the same time, sweat assembled on her skin. The room was wet and moldy and sterile all at once. No. No. No. She escaped, she was safe - fought her way through hell to get there. There was no way this was really happening.
Dull voices broke through to her. “We’re at 12 Minutes”. “180, going down”. Beeping of sorts and then - somehow, through all the water and noise, the unremarkable sound of pen on paper. What an odd thing to remember, right? But Y/N recalled thinking ‘what an odd thing to hear’ back then. Not now, though. Now it was… normal. But that day it wasn’t. It was in fact the very first time it had ever happened and the moment everyone had seemed to work towards. Even if Y/N didn’t know it back then, she was the breakthrough Hydra needed to create yet another group of human weapons. One that luckily never saw the light of day.
They didn’t know. And it should stay that way. Y/N didn’t want to be associated with Hydra anymore. She never did. She wanted to be herself when she joined the Avengers. A woman with power and endurance and, well, certain enhanced abilities. There was one person that knew how she got them, and that person was Nick Fury. But he had promised to keep his mouth shut. Y/N held onto that promise because it kept her from losing her mind - reminded her that she became who she was without their help. She had escaped, and fought, and grieved, and wept in order to get over that old self. And yet, despite all the hard work, she was in that old skin again.
It shouldn’t be possible though. She had put a recognizable amount of time into burying every piece of evidence of her past life - Her dumb anxiety included. But here it was: dark and strong and the thing that would ruin everything, every piece of harmony she had associated with its absence. 
Y/N was frozen to the ground, the image of the door branding itself into her mind and leaving a burning hole in its wake that made her head feel blank. Because that’s how it had always been: at first there is so much going on in your head that it feels like exploding and then, all of a sudden, it's wiped off everything. And all you are left with is this shell of a body that is not responsive to anything.
She didn’t know how long she had been standing in that hallway. A minute? Maybe an hour? Time moves differently when you’re not really there. But after whatever amount of time had passed, another voice rang through to her. A deep, and reasoning one, pressing and dripping of worry, though. Y/N shook her head. Steve. Steve was here.
❁ ❁ ❁
“I can’t have my team zoning out on missions.” The impatient voice echoed through the room accommodated by an expensive pair of shoes clicking on the polished floor. “We’ve had the problem before and I don’t like being lied to. Tell me what’s going on or she’s off.” Toni was pacing the floor of the common room until he came to a stop in front of Fury with his hands resting on his hips impatiently. But the man dressed in black didn’t do so much as move a muscle. He was casually lounging on the cushioned chair, waiting for his employee to finish.
“This might not feel like a big problem to you, Nick, but wait until half the Avengers are wiped out because Will Byers over here risks their lives by not cooperating.” Fury’s eye twitched when it lifted to the woman tugged into the corner. She had already been staring at him, trying to drag out the unavoidable, but there was no stopping this. She knew that, and he knew that too. 
“I can’t.” He said while still staring at Y/N. Nick would have done everything to prevent this very moment from happening, he had kept his promise for years. But this - this was the signal for her to know: ‘It’s on you now. You make the call.’
Y/N stared down at her hands that were nervously fumbling in her lap. Though from a distance it might have looked like she was disinterestedly avoiding everyone's eyes on her. Because they were - especially a specific pair of blue ones. Every single person in the room was expecting her to say something. Even more so the man whose worried expression hadn’t faded ever since he had dragged her out of that base hours ago. And even now - away from harm and safely huddled in the confines of the compound, his unrelenting stare was drenched in fear and urgency. Y/N didn't even have to look up to confirm her suspicions. Steve had not moved ever since she sat down in that chair, his arms crossed, shoulders hunched, and eyebrow furrowed as his gaze locked on her. He probably tried to find something - a twitch of a brow or the corner of her mouth - something to tell him that she was okay. But Y/N fought with everything she had not to give him that - because she was in fact not okay. She was far from it, and the storm of emotions rioting through her stomach did very well prove it as nausea crept up her throat.
She was about to reveal the very thing she had kept hidden for years - something she never thought would get dug up again. But here she was: moments away from having every assumption about her changed for the worse. And Y/N hated it. She hated that this would be defining who she was from now on. Because it always did. It happened with Bucky and it happened with Wanda, hell even Steve didn’t get away without being associated with Hydra. Even if his story bore a different relationship to the World War II organization. 
Y/N didn’t want to tell them, but deep down she knew that she would. Because what were her other options? Leaving the Avengers and drowning in sorrow over the lost family she had gained not too many years ago? God, that sounded like the villain origin story. No, she had to come clean, even if it hurt her and her status and possibly every other person surrounding her right now.
A wave of heat overtook her body, but her hands were cold. There was no going back - Y/N owed it to the team. Tony had every right to know what had put his people in danger today, but that didn’t change the fact that it would hurt nonetheless. Because she would be brought back there in her mind. And when she slowly inhaled to talk again, she tried to remember what it felt like to be free, even if the rushing of water already flooded her ears.
“You know when you’re drowning you don’t actually inhale until right before you black out.” Y/N was still staring at her fingers, desperately holding onto something she could feel. She was nervous to say the least, even if she knew exactly what her next words were going to be. 
“It’s called voluntary apnea.” She had known it for years, starting with picking up pieces of conversation in the labs and ending with a reality-shattering file search that settled the gravity of what had actually happened to her. Y/N closed her eyes as she remembered that day, trying to hold the hot tears pooling in her eyes at bay. 
“It’s like no matter how much you’re freaking out, the instinct to not let any water in is so strong that you won’t open your mouth until you feel like your head’s exploding.” We’re at 12 minutes. 180, going down. Just fucking breathe. “Then when you finally do let it in, that’s when it stops hurting.” Her voice was shaky now but she was determined to pull through. Though her head was still hanging low - almost ashamed at what she was going to say next. “It’s not scary anymore, it’s… it’s actually kind of peaceful.” She shrugged weakly. “At least that’s what I told myself.” 
She paused then, mentally preparing for the next part was impossible, but for some reason, she still couldn’t get it over with. This was it. This was the moment she was going to change in their eyes. The moment she would turn into a charity case that deserved nothing but sad looks and encouraging shoulder taps. And the thought of that made the lump in her throat grow. One last shaky breath and then she finally looked up, eyes locking with that of a blonde Super Soldier whose posture had faltered drastically since she last looked at him. A grey and brooding shadow had overtaken his cerulean orbs and it was shaking with the plead that settled in between: ‘Please tell me that’s not true.’ 
The first tear found its way down Y/N’s cheek, goosebumps rippling through her but her next words were said steadier than ever before. “I drowned in that room. One hundred and eighty-six times.”
And there it was: pity. Thick and unmistakable - smeared all over their faces. Y/N didn’t want it - dismissed it like a hot plate, pushing it further and further away from her on the table until she, herself, was backed up against the wall. They should stop pitying her. Try to feel what she felt but that proved itself difficult. Because Y/N didn’t feel anything. She’d expected to hear the voices in her head shouting numbers or smell the sterile smell of sanitizer or be unable to move - anything. But her mind was blank. It had all stopped buzzing as soon as she had stopped talking. With that last syllable, all the flashbacks faded into darkness and all that was left was this huge empty space. And she reveled in the calmness in her head for a second, but then Steve stepped forward with a heartbreaking look on his face and when he said her name and reached out his hand, that’s when her pulse picked up.
Y/N couldn’t do this - not from Steve, who was the only person whose opinion really mattered to her. Those dreadful eyes bored into hers when she sprung up from the chair, legs screeching over the dark floor, and then, she bolted. 
❁ ❁ ❁
Steve watched as Y/N ran out of the common room, a blank stare covering his features while his heart grew heavy with every step she took from him. 
“Why didn’t you tell us?!” Tony screamed.
“She didn’t want you to know.” Fury answered, and his voice hosted a sense of sadness.
Y/N. A Hydra experiment. And Steve hadn't known. He would have never known had they not happened to raid the base she had been kept at. It killed Steve to know that he could have prevented today from happening. He could’ve told Fury what a bad idea it was had he just known. But he didn’t. Somehow it unsettled him that Y/n chose not to tell him. It was traumatic and painful but did she really think that he would judge her for it? He of all people. No, he would never.
A look at Bucky rattled another zap of pain through his bones. His friend had this distinct mystery etched on his face. And when Steve shot him a questioning glare, Bucky jerked his head to the side, signaling for the blonde to follow him. 
Bucky’s shoulders were stiff when Steve watched them leading the way to a private lounge area and the spring in his step slightly faltered. 
When he had woken up that morning, Steve would have never guessed that the day would bring such dramatics. It was a simple mission - one he had done several times, too. And yet it could have not gone worse than today. Steve couldn’t let his emotions get the better of him, he knew that. His position as Captain didn’t allow him to let them lead his choices. But right now, with Bucky visibly agitated and Y/N clearly upset as well, that duty seemed near impossible. He cared too much for both of those people. 
Bucky stopped by the window, his gaze focused outside where the rain pattered aggressively against the concrete. He swallowed thickly before his head turned to his best friend.
“I think I remember her, Steve... I remember seeing her in the base.” Bucky finally confessed, though there was a distance in his words. And despite the information doing fairly little to calm Steve’s nerves, he was glad that his friend condoned in him. 
“You do?” A hopeful wave of emotions washed him over, suggesting that he might get a little more information about Y/N’s situation. And that maybe... he had been looking out for her back then. Yes, Bucky was most certainly sedated by hydra at that time, but the Winter Soldier had proven time and time again that he was not completely clouding Bucky and his sense for the good.
“I was there. I was-“ Bucky stopped as if he had suddenly said too much. A dreadful look overtook his eyes before his jaw wired shut and Steve’s hopeful feelings vanished.
“What? What is it?” He pressed, but his friend remained silent. 
Panic rose in his chest with every second filling the quiet and Steve couldn’t help but feel like the words Bucky had withheld from him drew far heavier consequences than he had anticipated.
“I - I can’t tell you that, Steve. I think you should talk to her.” 
Why did everyone decide they had to hide things from him today? What could have possibly been so bad? 
“Anything else I should know?” Steve asked stiffly, a slight coldness overtaking his mind.
Bucky shook his head with what looked like guilt. Nonetheless, after a frustrated huff, Steve thanked Bucky and made his way to the dormitories.
❁ ❁ ❁
Steve leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed before his chest and a worrisome look pressing on his features. But Y/N just stared blankly ahead, ignoring the boring stare from the hallway. She didn’t want him to be here. Because he was - and that Y/N was 100 percent certain of - here to tell her things she didn’t want to hear. 
Their relationship had just recently reached the brooding edges of the pot. So close to overflowing into uncharted territory for the both of them. But for once in her life, Y/N had been excited about where it spilled. She wanted to feel the burning hot sensation on her skin and be dragged down into its endless abyss of warm feelings and excitement. But the information she had just dropped had taken the pot from the flame. She knew it the moment her eyes met Steve’s. They were dull, and lifeless, and sad. He had probably registered how much work she would be - would not see her as equal anymore. More of a menace than someone he could actually enjoy life with. And it broke her heart.
To say the least, there were far more parts of hers broken than her heart at this point. But Y/N didn’t know how to cope with them. For all her life, she had pushed it away. Brushed it off like it was nothing except a memory destined for her past, only allowed to creep to the surface when the dark corners of her mind leaked into the rational part of her. These times were not with people, especially not Steve - who was her captain and something more... up until now, that was.
Nonetheless, she needed a friend and Steve was the closest thing to that. Since more was probably not within her reach anytime soon, she decided to give into the nagging urge to spill every feeling on the floor before her. She looked up at him when he walked into the room and that’s when a dam of tears broke. She was ready to lay it all out bare for him. She had to, because for some reason - from one second to the other - all the things she had kept hidden for the past years felt unbearable to hold in. They seeped through her eyes in form of salty water and leaked through her nose and eventually built a big fat lump in her throat, one that was not possible to swallow. She had to get it out, along with all the other things hiding beneath.
Steve laid a warm hand on her trembling shoulder. A soft stroke pushed the last bit of reluctance from her body and prepared her to make it all go away. He was so close, but for some reason, she felt further away from him than ever before.
“You know I never stopped counting,” she whispered through ragged breaths. The nights in the dark cell encased her like a fog. Cold and moldy smells and the sound of dripping water echoed through her skull with every word she revealed to Steve. 
“I thought I would lose track at one point - maybe die,” she huffed, bitterness seeping through her tone, “but they pulled me back from the dead so many times… sometimes I feel like I got stuck somewhere in between.” Not really living - not really there. But she wouldn’t say that out loud. Not again, at least. She did it once - to the Winter Soldier, when she had thought to see a glimpse of humanity seeping thought the tough exterior. But it didn’t change a thing then too.
The movement of Steve’s hand stopped but he caught himself after a beat. He probably knew what she was thinking. And he probably also thought that dying was the cowardly way out of her situation, which was why a wave of shame came over her. 
“You know what’s funny? I’ve tried so hard to keep this a secret in order to have people like the real me and now... I feel like the only way I have any chance with the people I love is by giving this all away.” And it was true. Y/N felt like the last thing keeping her connected to Steve and the others was her cooperating and coming clean. She would be the prettied avenger, the one they always felt like they had to look out for - and she hated that because, really, the last thing Y/N wanted was to be babied - but if it was the last chance of keeping even a piece of them within her reach, she would have no choice but to take the deal. She would never be seen as an equal again. Always the inferior that never got over her trauma but if it meant staying with her family, she would be just that. Even if it was not even half of what she had made herself to be.
Steve’s eyes softened but at the same time, they filled with worry. His shoulders looked like they urged him to speak but his mouth closed as soon as it opened. And the last shimmer of hope vanished from Y/N’s consciousness. She wasn’t ready to let him go into pure friendship again, not when they had been dancing around the edge of something more for so long now. And she realized that now. So much, in fact, that she decided it would be better to just shut the whole thing off before the situation played out the way it was doomed to. Maybe that way she had a little more time to dwell in her fantasies. 
With that thought in mind, she licked up the last pieces of pride she had and patted her hand on Steve’s knee.
“Don’t worry about it, Captain. Thank you for checking in but I’m okay.” She said steadily, though she couldn’t help but notice the slump in the man’s shoulders beside her when she led him to the door.
❁ ❁ ❁
Captain, she had called him Captain. Steve exhaled on his way to his room. For some reason, he was devastated by that even more than the events that had taken place just half an hour prior. She didn’t trust him. She never trusted him enough, for that matter, to tell him about her past. A past he very well shared and understood better than any other person on the team - well, except Bucky... and Wanda.
He had wanted to tell her that she was okay now. That she should not let her past define her. That he would never in a million years even consider neglecting her because of it. But he couldn’t. For some reason, he had been still beside her like a stupid puppet. 
Tears brimmed in his eyes when he defeatedly sunk onto his bed. He wanted to stay rational. He wanted to think it through before burning up into flames, but his heart was pounding like a sledgehammer and his brain was running a mile a minute in opposite directions. There was no possibility to think straight. 
His body felt torn between the two most powerful organs within him and they were fighting like there was no tomorrow. He wanted to punch the wall and lay the softest kiss on Y/N’s lips at the same time. It was infuriating. 
For the first time in a long time, Steve had no idea what to do, or how to behave. There were no rules in the territory he and Y/N had created for themselves. There were times when he could come up behind her and press her into his chest and others when he wouldn’t even dare look at her. Right now, neither of these were an option, unfortunately. 
Of course, deep down Steve knew that he had to talk to her again. Make sure she knew where their differences lay and clearly state what he had been thinking about the whole situation. But his heart was screaming so loud into his head that that thought never reached his ears. 
It was strange, Steve was never the one to lose control over his emotions like this. But this situation felt as though it deserved every last drop of the feelings he had to offer. It was because of Y/N, of course. She tumbled up his feelings every time she looked at him. And to say that the look she had given him in the meeting room had shattered all his perceptions regarding her and her wellbeing was an understatement. He had been worried about her before. But never like this. Never in a way that had both his and her identity questioned. 
For some reason, he could deal with death threats and vital injuries - it was sadly a normal routine in his line of work - but the added emotions that came with everything concerning Y/N ordered a whole new level of consciousness to his duties. He no longer felt the need to care for his team and make sure they got out of and through missions unharmed because it was his job, he now had to care for them because his heart was involved if anything were to happen to any of them. And he had to care more about himself, too because there were people who would get hurt if he were to. Y/N did that - she had sucked him into her warm and welcoming self and Steve had embraced it with all his being.
Now, he saw how dangerous that was. But he wouldn’t have it any other way. Getting closer to her was the best thing that had happened to Steve in a long time. He was happier and more energetic.
It dawned on him, then, that he had to tell her that. No matter how rage fed his brain or love blinded his heart was in the moment. Y/N deserved to know. Much like he had deserved to know about her secret much sooner. This thought sent another wave of frustration through his body. Steve tried to push it away, but it lay heavy on his heart when he stepped into the hallway, trying to suppress the nervousness brooding up within him.
❁ ❁ ❁
Y/N twitched up when the door slammed into the wall. When it bounced back from the gray concrete, there was a sizable hole visible where it jammed. But as her ears picked up on something else, that’s when her eyes wandered past the door to the heaving man within its frame. Steve’s eyes were dull, his shoulders hunched but his heart was beating at a rapid speed. He must’ve heard it in his head from the pressure with which it traveled over to Y/N. 
Thumb, Thumb.
Steady and yet rapidly pounding. And for some odd reason, it had a soothing aspect on the woman. But before Y/N could register and ask what was going on, Steve stepped into the room. He was hesitant but still carried himself with a familiar confidence she’d only ever seen from him.
“I’m sorry,” he straightened up, “...for the door, I- I dint think it would open that easily.”
“It’s okay.” Y/N was still seated on her bed - hadn’t moved a muscle since Steve left.
“Y/N...” His voice was heavy with sadness, though she didn’t dare look at him. There was no going back. He would be saying what she had been dreading from the second she confessed. She didn’t also need to watch the disappointment in his eyes when he told her that itwas over - whatever it was. “I know what happened to you can’t be changed.” He sat down beside her, though there was a significant distance between the two Avengers now. “And I can only imagine how hard today has been for you. I don’t think I would be as strong as you are keeping this for yourself for so long. But you don’t have to shut us out. Please don’t shut me out, Y/N. We can help you, we can be there for you. Just... please. I don’t know how to-” he inhaled deeply but his speech didn’t continue like she had expected it to.
Y/N just sat there, her fingernails suddenly the most interesting thing to ever exist, even though there was a distressed man sitting inches away from her. Whatever he had said, because frankly, the words had swayed by her like a breeze, sounded like heartbreak to her - for her. There was pretty clear that Steve didn’t see a future for them. And if Steve thought this - the person she had grown closest to over the years - she could only imagine what the rest of the team was thinking. 
Tears burned in Y/N’s eyes and when the first one fell in her lap, she closed her eyes in pain. “You pitied me..,” she whispered, the burning in her throat threatening to swallow her whole, “You felt bad for me... you of all people, you decided I need comforting.”
Steve sent a confused look at her once her eyes met his. He was looking through her gaze as if the answer to his questions lay beneath them.
“Of course I do.” He spoke calmly but irritated. Y/N shut her eyes again, trying to ignore the confirming string of pain wash over her. Somehow hearing him say it out loud was worse than she imagined.
“It shouldn’t even concern you, Steve. I’ve managed very well on my own over the past years. There is no reason for anyone to pity me-”
“Not pity,” he interrupted, “concern, yes. Pride, worry, fear... I feel all of those things for you. But not Pity.”
“But why.” The words were barely audible through the stream of tears that had broken loose by now. Y/N couldn’t possibly comprehend why Steve would say that. Because she didn’t see how Steve could see anything but her past from now on. She had struggled to do so herself at first. It had taken years to finally become herself again, even if that self bore a terrible secret for everyone else.
“Because I admire your strength. And I care about you.” His hand hovered over hers, but he didn't dare touch her just yet. “I care about you more than I probably should.” He closed his eyes and retracted his hand when he saw the dread in her eyes. “And I try to ignore it, I really do but then you come at me with that smile and with your wit, and I... I can’t stop my heart from racing.”
“I know I can hear it.” She was whispering again, feeling like an intruder for listening in on something as personal as his heartbeat.
Steve looked at her with an indescribable look on his face. “I hear yours, too, you know? But for some reason, it’s telling me other things than your eyes are.”
“What are my eyes telling you?”
Steve’s fingers grazed her chin, moving upward until his thumb stroked the skin on her cheek. “That you are afraid of something. That you are waiting for something bad to happen... but I don’t know what.” Y/N nodded in awe - somehow this man could read her better than she could herself, which was scary and comforting at the same time.
“And what is my heart telling you?” She took his hand and placed it upon her chest, where a steady rhythm pushed through her skin.
“The same thing I’ve been trying to say.” His heartbeat was steady and sure as well. It was fast, yes, but not in a bad way. There was an unfamiliar glimmer in his eyes when they softened upon her love-dazed face. Maybe her intrusive thoughts had blinded her after all...
“And what-”
Suddenly, his soft lips pressed to hers. A warm and tingling feeling traveled over Y/N’s body as her arms almost automatically reached up to his shoulders. Steve pulled her closer by her waist, deepening the kiss with the lean of his head. He was warm and he felt like the hug she had subconsciously craved ever since staring at that white number ’15’ in the base hours ago. All the tension drained from her like a waterfall. Steve pulled the fear from her body with every stroke of his tongue against hers. And for the first time in a while, Y/N felt as though everything had fallen into place. She was right where she belonged. The squeeze of Steve’s fingers reminded her of that.
When they pulled apart, breathless and floating, she tightened the grip on his collar.
“But- I thought...” Y/N breathed out shakily. Her forehead was firmly pressed against Steve’s and her lips were grazing his with every word she whispered, sending waves of shivers down her spine.
“What? That I’d sign you off as a charity case?” Steve locked his eyes on hers for the hundredth time. There was so much emotion in them. “I would never underestimate you. I know you are stronger than half the people on this team... well mentally that is.”
“Stop,” she chuckled before pressing her face into his chest. Steve kissed the top of her head as his hand began to soothingly stroke up and down her back, leaving a warm trail of comfort in its wake.
“I really like you, Y/N... and if you’d let me, I would like to take you out sometime.”
Y/N smiled. It seemed silly how worried she had been about his feelings now. Considering hers were just as strong for the man in her arms, there had not been a reason to believe it was different for him. Though the edges of self-consciousness nipped at her brain every now and then. Those were the monsters pushing intrusive thoughts into her heart - convincing her of things, for which there was no indignation. She would learn it with time - that her past didn’t define her. It did to some extent, but it would never become her entire identity. And until she could tell herself that alone, she would have Steve to help her remember.
“I would love to, Steve.”
Steve pulled back and held her by her shoulders before leaning in again. A content smile etched on his lips before they sealed to hers again, capturing her in another searing kiss.
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meidui · 1 month
Text
abusive joseph + tony comforts steve
Cat's in the Cradle by Last_Chance_Anna
Steve starts thinking about his father and the affect he had on his life. Tony is there to offer support and comfort.
sympathy, won't you come around? by @16woodsequ  @turtle-steverogers
“Oh god.” Steve turns, head on a slow swivel, looking around.
He knows this alleyway. He knows this street, the buildings, tall and laden with clotheslines, running from fire escape to fire escape like veins bleeding life into the city.
They’re in the wrong place. They’re in the wrong time.
In the Dark by @16woodsequ
Joseph Rogers may or may not have been a terrible father, and Steve may or may not dislike small, dark places as a result.
Thankfully, that isn't something he has to deal with much as Captain America.
For the most part.
Hydra bases really suck.
Demon in a Bottle by @avengersnewb
Young alpha Tony Stark picks up his omega, Steve Rogers, from his dad's place, bruised and battered, and he has to do his best to protect his omega from the harms of abusive alcoholic parents.
How to Bond with Your Fellow Superhero 101 by StillTurningOut
"Agree to disagree. But I think I remind you of someone else."
It was eerie watching Steve's reaction. He closed in on himself, 6-feet-something turning into a tiny pile of hurt right there on his lab stool. He looked like a kicked puppy. A really young kicked puppy. A new-born kicked puppy, if you will. Steve with his head tucked down, and the sleeves of his hoodie pulled over his knuckles, he looked all of 21. Which is really too young, in Tony's opinion. Too young to take over a company, for sure.
Maybe too young to get the serum, too.
"I don't know what you mean." Steve tried, but he is a really, really terrible liar. So there's one thing his old-man got right about him.
"Look," Tony dropped into the stool across from Steve, dropping his lever onto the table.
“Did I scare you?”
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evcndiaz · 1 month
Note
Do you think there's a disconnect between older and newer members of the fandom? I'm a newer fan and most of my mutuals are also new fans and sometimes it feels like fans that have been around for a while don't really want to interact with new blogs.
You know what? I love this question. I'm glad you asked. Yeah, there is a disconnect and I can tell you why it exists (at least from my perspective).
So, before Eddie got shot, this fandom was relatively small. I joined this fandom in January 2021 and... okay, so, one of my litmus tests to determine the size of a fandom is seeing how easy it is to secure a canon or "elite" url. If it's a big fandom, say, DC or Marvel, you'd have to practically kill a man to save a steverogers or brucewayne url, or even a variation of that (i.e stcverogers / brvcewayne). But if it's a medium-sized fandom, for example, you might get away with being able to save an "off-brand" canon url (i.e. canonstucky / batfam). So when I joined up, the fact that I was able to save the canonbuddie url the same day I joined was, like, "whoa. Holy shit. Not a lot going on around here!" Especially since, by this time, Buddie had already been a "ship" for a year or so.
And you know what? It was perfect!
Honestly, in those pre-shooting days, this fandom was very chill. Sure, there was the Ryan/Chrysti n-word drama, and sure, I got absolutely slaughtered every time I so much as mentioned his name in a positive way, and sure, there was your casual in-fighting here and there among some people, but it wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Everything was pretty alright.
But then Eddie got shot... and this fandom blew. the fuck. up.
Gay firefighter trended on twitter and suddenly, this fandom wasn't just a medium-sized hang out anymore. People joined in droves. People started paying attention to us, which was weird. And as with most things in these dark, long-forgotten corners of the internet, with the growth of the fandom inevitably came the Supernatural fans.
As you (probably? possibly?) know, Supernatural ended (Nov. 2020) only a couple months before Eddie got shot (May 2021). When Eddie got shot and Buddie shippers were so absolutely very convinced that this was The Moment and Season 5 was going to be their season, jilted ex-Destiel stans came sniffing around to see what we were up to. This would have been fine, but unfortunately, most of them were horribly unkind (calling us stupid and dumb and mocking us "to our faces" for believing Buddie would ever go canon) or just annoying as fuck (calling Buddie "D/estiel 2.0" and stuff like that).
It got... bad. Seriously. Me and some of the other "big" bloggers around here were constantly inundated with hatemail and mean comments attached to our posts to the point where I know a lot of us just started blocking D/estiel shippers on sight.
Most people in the fandom "closed ranks" after that, so to speak. If you weren't a trusted mutual, or a mutual-in-law, you basically had a 0% chance of punching your way through the fold. Which was ultimately to our detriment. In closing the ranks, more cliques formed, which of course, naturally, created a whole new set of problems to contend with, and all of these events eventually led us to where we are now.
It's not perfect, but it is what it is.
It should be noted that I'm not a fandom expert, and I don't claim to speak on everyone's behalf, but I remember this time, and my conversations with people during this time, with crystal-clear clarity and the D/estiel takeover seems to be the inciting event.
So. Yeah. It's not pleasant news, but I hope this helps?
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holylulusworld · 1 year
Text
His prey - Kinktober 31
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Summary: Your saviour has arrived.
Pairing: Nomad!SteveRogers x Innocent!Reader
Kink: stalking
Square 3 filled for @anyfandomangstbingo​: stalker au
Square 7 filled for @anyfandomdarkbingo​: social anxiety
Warnings: angst, stalking, anxiety, social anxiety, mentions of past sexual assault (not the reader)/attempted sexual assault/violence/murder/strangling, mentions of loss of loved ones, virgin reader, implied innocence/virginity kink, protective/possessive Steve, implied murder, betrayal, gaslighting/manipulation (maybe? just in case), a hint of fluff
A/N: idea by @elle14-blog1​​ (viginity kink) I didn’t turn this into a smutty one. It didn’t match the story in the end. Maybe I’ll come back to the story and write more using the kink.
Words: 2,5 k
Kinktober 2022  
Please head the warnings. I mentioned the reader’s past and why she’s got anxiety, social anxiety and so on. It’s not explicit, but contains triggers.
This was a warning. Not an advertisement.
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Duck your head. Avoid eye contact. Don’t talk to too many people.
In your mind, you repeat your mantra. If you don’t get nervous, you won’t get anxious. If you won’t get anxious, no one will believe you are not normal.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
“Can I help you, miss?” the clerk at the grocery store asks. You were standing in front of one of the shelves for too long, and he got worried. Or he believed you are a shoplifter. 
Why can’t people just leave you alone? Why do they always try to force you to talk to them? Why? Just why?
Breathe in. Breathe out.
“Oh, I’m fine. I was just looking at the cat food. My cat didn’t like the one I bought for her,” you nervously babble. It’s the truth. You need food for your cat. 
“I get it. It’s a lot of food for cats,” the young man nervously chuckles, giving you a boyish grin. He can’t be elder than seventeen. 
He’s no threat.
He’s not going to hurt you.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
“I don’t have a cat, but my granny always buys that one for her six cats,” he continues, not recognizing your shaking hands or that you struggle to control your breathing. “They are all like ten years old and fat. I guess it’s good.”
He shrugs.
You nod.
“T-hank you. I’ll try that one,“ you say only to get rid of the boy. It’s not his fault. You know that. Your mind just doesn’t want to agree.
“Anytime, miss. Have a great day.”
He leaves.
You relax.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Get everything you will need for at least a week. Leave the store. Drive home. Be safe.
Your hands shake a little when you reach out to get the first of many items you’ll need. It’s Halloween soon and you don’t want to go to town while everyone is going crazy. 
You want to stay at home. Lock your door. Leave the world outside. 
Just you, yourself, and your cat. 
Well, two cats…or three. You don’t know. There is this newcomer who comes to your house to get food and runs off the next day.
You take another deep breath. 
Breathe in. Breathe out.
You finally gather enough strength to push the shopping cart toward the next shelf. Only a few more items and you can go home.
Safe. 
Unharmed. 
Alone. - Just how you like it.
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“Snowball, Salem, newcomer,” you call for your cats. “Come inside. It’s going to rain soon. Come here, kitty. I know you are hungry.”
You smile as your cats run toward the front door. No one can see you are clutching it tight enough to hurt your knuckles.
Going out. Always a struggle.
“Good kitties.”
You close the door and lock it. It takes some time with all the safety locks you have, but it’s for your own safety, and to keep the anxiety at a low level.
A pair of worried blue eyes followed your every move. The man hid behind one of your trees until you closed the door.
He stays in the shadows. Always in the shadows.
He calls himself your guardian angel. Your savior. The one keeping you safe from the world.
Steve watches you from afar. 
It's been a while since anyone called him the golden boy. 
He's a wanted man. Dishonored. Abandoned. Framed. 
You are the light in this dark world, and he'll make sure to keep you in his life. 
You will be his best girl. 
Steve only has to convince you to give in...  
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Halloween evening. The day you always loved. The day you fear now.
You stand in front of your door, hand reaching out for the locks to let your cats in. Anxiety spikes up once again. Your hands tremble. 
Breathe in. Breathe out.
“You need to let the cats inside. It’s Halloween. You can’t leave them outside.”
Slowly unlocking your safety locks, you take deep breaths. 
Open the door. Call for your cats. Lock the door again. Hide.
“Come here k-“ your grip your door a little tighter as two young men stand in front of your door. One of them has snowball in his arms. He smirks darkly as you try to not let him see your fear.
“See, I told she’s a young one. She’s got an expensive car and this big house,” the other boy singsongs. You remember him. It’s the clerk from the grocery store. “We only had to come here when everyone else is busy with Halloween. I bet she’s got a lot of money for us.”
“Or something sweeter,” the boy holding your cat says.
“P-lease leave me alone. I-I got no money here. Please…” you’re shaking in fear. Flashbacks of your past haunt you and you can barely breathe. 
“I think she invited us in, don’t you think?” you shake your head at the boy. He drops your cat, shooing her away as he steps closer to reach out for you.
You fear the worst. Your vision becomes blurry and breathing becomes harder.
Before he can touch you, he’s gone. Taken away by an invisible attacker. At least to your vision.
“She doesn’t want you here!” fighting your blurry vision you watch the third man punch the boy from the grocery store.
You must be dreaming. If not, the absent Captain America just came to your rescue.
“Captain America?” 
You pass out. Darkness welcomes you. 
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“NO!” you scream as you jolt up on your bed. “I-no! PLEASE!”
“Doll, you’re safe.”
Your eyes go wide as a stranger is in your bedroom. 
“You’re Captain America.”
You swallow thickly. 
Breathe in. Breathe out.
You can’t embarrass yourself in front of a hero. 
“I made sure the boys got arrested and brought your cats into the house. But first, I carried you inside. You passed out on me, miss.”
“You were there,” you whimper. It’s so embarrassing a hero had to save you from some kids. “You saved me.”
“I walked by. You know, I like to go for a walk at night. Then I saw the kids threaten you.”
You don’t overthink his story. Why would you? He’s Captain America and saved you.
“Thank you.”
“It’s my duty to protect the innocent,” he steps closer to your bed to hand you a cup of tea. “I know you don’t like having people around you. I-I’m the same.”
“It’s not you. It’s me.”
“It’s the world outside, doll,” he offers a soft smile, making you feel warm. Just like a soft blanket and hot chocolate. “I didn’t want to intrude. You passed out and I had to carry you inside.”
You whimper. “The police. Do they want a statement?”
“I told them everything that happened. Don’t you worry,” Steve nods to himself. “You can talk to them if you want to, though.”
“No. I-“
“Do you want me to leave?” no one ever asked you. They all offer their help and try to make you normal again. But there is no going back to normal.
“I-“ you shake your head. 
He’s safe.
“I can wait downstairs till the morning comes if you feel safer that way.”
“Can you,” sipping at the tea, you need a moment to find the words, “stay here for a little while? You’re Captain America.”
“I was,” he offers a cracked smile. “I’m glad someone is still believing in me…”
“I do. Always did.”
If only he was around back then.
He smiles. There is something in his eyes, but you brush it off. 
Breathe in. Breathe out.
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“If you ever tell anyone about this,” Steve looks over the boys’ heads. His features darken as he looks the clerk from the grocery store straight in the eyes, “you won’t be found.”
“Sir, we won’t,” the boy stammers. “Why did you want us to scare the girl? She seemed to be harmless.”
“You never know if someone nice isn’t with Hydra. Now go and never talk to her again.”
Steve knows what he did is wrong. His old self would be ashamed.
The new Steve wants to have something good in life.
He wants to have a girl to protect and take care of.
He wants innocence to return to his life.
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“I came by to check on you, doll,” Steve points at the sunflowers he placed on your front porch. “I put them there as you do not like people to get close to you.”
“I,” you smile. Steve seems to be a nice man, and a kind one. “Not you. I trust you.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t,” he bites his tongue. “I made mistakes in the past. You know what happened. I am still a wanted man.”
“A wanted man,” nodding you look at the flowers again. “Just like the ones breaking into my parents' house.”
You gasp.
Steve does the same.
You never told anyone but the police about what happened that Halloween night.
“I’m sorry, doll.”
“I’m scared of people. Scared of being close to anyone since that night,” you wipe your eyes. “These men came to my home and they—”
“You don’t have to talk about it,” he is by your side in two long steps. “Maybe you should go back inside. It’s alright. I can come back another time.”
“No, I,” you wrap your hand around his wrist, gasping audibly. 
You never touched a man before.
Not since that night.
“Let’s head inside then,” Steve offers. “We can put those flowers in a vase too.”
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“Hey, it’s alright,” Steve follows you inside your living room. He sits next to you on the couch, careful to not scare you.
“Three men broke into our house,” you begin. “It was Halloween. My friends and I were out to get some more sweets. I was running late. Mom told me to be back at ten. I came home at eleven.”
Steve gently runs his hand over your back, testing the waters.
“I sneaked inside the house using the back door. If only I used the front door, I would’ve seen someone broke in. The house was silent. It was odd. You know,” you look at Steve. “Like in one of those awful horror movies. The girl walks inside a house and it’s silent and pitch black.”
“Doll…”
“Usually, dad and my brother would’ve watched stupid horror movies. Mom would sit next to them, laughing about the stupid people getting killed. My big sister would nag about the movie but gnaw at her nails as she was scared.”
You take a deep breath and another.
Steve just sits next to you. He offers safety and warmth. It feels like he wrapped you into a warm blanket and cradles you like your mom used to do when you were a little girl.
“I put my bag with sweets away. It was late. I was tired. The house was silent,” you swallow audibly, “until it wasn’t. A single scream coming from my sister’s room tore through the silence like a knife. I was frozen to the spot, unable to move as I heard my sister call for my mother like a little girl. She screamed for help…”
“Oh, doll.”
“I…I dropped to my knees to hide behind the sofa. All I could do was dial 911,” you whisper. “I didn’t know my parents and brother died hours ago. They only kept my sister alive to…”
“Did they get them? Did they get punished?”
You nod.
“I crawled toward the kitchen. I was only fourteen, but I had to help my sister,” you wipe your eyes. “I got the biggest knife I could find and kicked off my shoes. If only I could sneak toward my sister’s room, I could save her. Right?”
“Doll…”
“Y/N.”
“Y/N, I’m so sorry.”
“I reached her room. It was the first one right next to the stairs. I-I saw a man squeezing her throat. He groaned and then he got off her. I didn’t understand at first. I didn’t see her eyes were…lifeless,” you choke on your tears. “Later the coroner said in the courtroom that the last one r-aping her,” your voice trembles, “he wanted to make sure she doesn’t scream again. He strangled her with his bare hand.”
Steve can’t find his voice. He closes his eyes and forces the images of the men he killed a few weeks ago away.
He doesn’t tell you he already knew most of your story.
He just didn’t know every detail.
“I gasped and one of the others saw me. He smirked and pointed toward me. That monster said, now their night will get even better as they can have the last Y/L/N too. He said that I’m just his type.”
“Did he…”
“He tried,” you bury your face in the palm of your hands. You’ve got no clue why you feel comfortable enough around Steve to tell him about the worst day in your life. “But…he couldn’t…he couldn’t get it up. Not that he didn’t try.”
You are crying now. “I wish I could say something to make you feel better.”
“He held a knife to my throat as he climbed on top of me, telling me how he’s going to make me a woman,” tears drop onto your hands. “The cops stormed into the house. I don’t remember much after that.”
You didn’t even recognize you grasped his hand to hold it tightly. “At the hospital one of the female officers told me that my whole family got killed that night. She tried to convince me that it wasn’t my fault. But why do I feel like it was my fault alone?”
“It wasn’t your fault. Those men did all of this.”
“I know,” you smile when he squeezes your hand. “Everyone told me to move on you know. But how can you move on after this? How?”
“Did no one ever support you? A boyfriend maybe?” he leans a little closer to whisper in your ear. 
“I never had a boyfriend. I can’t even talk to people,” Steve feels his heart jump in his chest. He assumed that you are innocent in any way, but wasn’t sure. 
“You are talking to me, Y/N.”
“It’s crazy. I can’t explain it,” you mumble. “I haven't talked to anyone this long for like ever. Since that night, I just couldn’t.”
“I feel honored, doll.”
“Captain?”
You breathe in. You breathe out.
“Yes.”
“Where do you live if I may ask?” you glance at Steve.
“I move from town to town. You know, renting an apartment while being a wanted man is not easy.”
“I got a few spare rooms,” your mind is at ease close to Steve, and you feel warm.
He’s safe.
He’s not going to hurt you.
“Do you want to stay here for a few days?”
Steve smiles softly. He nods and keeps a straight face while his heart wants to burst. 
He found his angel.
Steve only needs a little more time to make you see, you will be always safe with him, and in his arms.
He’ll take his time before he makes you his girl completely. 
After everything you’ve been through, you’ll need someone to protect and take care of you first.
Steve will win your heart and touch your soul.
He found his light and will never give it up…
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This is it. The end of kinktober 2022. Happy Halloween everyone. And for those who don’t celebrate and/or care about Halloween, a nice Monday.
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Tags in reblog.
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cissywritess · 1 year
Text
𝑪𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒉𝒆 | One
Summary: You’re in your last year of high school, you want out of this town. It won’t be so easy when you got a stalker.
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Pairing: Dark!Stucky x reader
Warnings: 18+, Dark Themes. Do not read if you are sensitive. Please, also check warning before you read anything 18+
Notes: The reader is obviously 18, calm down don’t call paw patrol. Unedited. This will be a series called ✨𝑪𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒉𝒆✨
You have always been lonely, mentally. You had one friend, Amelia was her name. You and Amelia have been friends since elementary. “Y/N! You won’t believe what just happened,” Amelia approached your locker. “I got voted for captain of the cheerleading team,”
The difference between you and Amelia was that she was popular and well you weren’t. She had friends while you only had her. “I just heard the news,” one of her friends ran up to her. “Let’s celebrate by going to the mall,”
Amelia paid no more attention to you and let her friends take her away. As much as you hate to admit it, she wasn’t a good friend. She only wants to talk to you when she wants to. She’ll ignore you if you approach her and ask to hang out. The only reason you’re still her friend is because you have no one else, you don’t think you’ll take it having no friends. You’re in senior year now you can’t be sappy.
You have it all planned out, after you graduate you’ll leave this town, go to college, find a lovely spacious apartment, and who knows maybe you’ll find someone. You have already been saving up, working at a diner after school.
As you walked home you couldn't help but feel eyes on you, everytime you stopped and looked around no one seemed suspicious. It's been like this for a couple of months now, they wanted you to know. Sending flowers to your house, you even get messages online from them. Whoever they are.
Once you made it home you didn't have time to do anything else but change into your work clothes. Your stay-at-home mother wasn't home, you weren't surprised by this because she was never home. She'd stay at some random man's house, after your fathers' death she wasn't the same, and that was 6 years ago.
Work stressed you out and with sending college applications out, you barely have time on your hands. The door opens with a ring and you look up and smile, "Hi Steve, the usual?" you asked, Steve was a regular who'd come in around the time your shift started. Sometimes he'll come in with a friend, Bucky. Steve was nice and always knew how to start a conversation while Bucky was quiet. They always lighten up your shift, making it a little more bearable.
"Yup," He sat on the stool. You set a mug in front of him and grabbed the coffee pot beginning to pour coffee into his mug. "How's school any letters?" you have a tendency to overshare, it's not like Steve was a creep. He came in a lot, so much you grew a bond.
"Not yet, which is weird. I sent them out weeks ago," You told him as you wrote his order down, you ripped the paper out of the book and took it to the kitchen window.
"I'm sure they'll come in, don't get your hopes up," He assured you, you cleaned up the plates and trash from the last customer, wiping down the table. You went to the kitchen window and grabbed Steve's order, you put his plate in front of him, "Thanks sweetheart," He said, making your heart bounce out of your chest. It was wrong to like someone who is way older than you. But it was just a crush and you're pretty sure he has a girlfriend or something considering he's very handsome.
"You're welcome," You replied and let him be, you attended to a new customer, taking their order. The door rings and you look up, your heart drops. It was Amelia and her friends, they never come in here. You looked around wondering where the other waitress was, you sighed knowing you'll have to do your job. You calmed yourself and walked up to their booth, taking a small book out and pen. "I'm Y/N I'll be your waitress today, drinks?" You said,
Amelia ignored you whatsoever, while her friends giggled once they saw you, "Y/N I didn't know you worked here," one of Amelia's friends replied, she looked at you up and down and sighed. "Not surprised, anyways we'll all take milkshakes, strawberry," she smiled. You wrote it down and left going back behind the diner.
You got to another customer, after a few more minutes you got their milkshakes and went to where they were handing them out to them. You once again took out your book and one out. "May I take your order?” You look down at the book ready to write it down.
“Nope,” she pops the p at the end with her lips. You nod and leave.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” Steve pulled out his wallet and left the money next to the plate. You picked it up and saw he tipped you forty dollars. It’s not unusual, he always leaves a big tip.
“Are you sure, it’s a lot for a tip,” you look at him. He chuckles, you’ve had this conversation with him before,
“I’ll see you soon,” he says and heads for the door.
After more cleaning and serving customers Amelia and her friends leave, you go to their booth to clean up only to find out they didn’t pay for their drinks. You huffed out knowing it’ll come out of your paycheck.
When you got home you quickly dropped your stuff and headed to the bathroom. You needed a hot shower to relieve some stress, once you were out you went into your room, that was small. Your mom is a single mother, which means she can barely afford things. Like this small house, she bought with your dad's inheritance, she's been making money in her own ways. You changed and did your usual routine.
You pulled your laptop out of your backpack and sat up on your bed. First, you checked your emails to see if any colleges responded back to you. You then checked your messages, there was nothing but one message.
You look gorgeous as always baby
You tried to tell someone about this stalker but no one listened, they either don't believe someone like you would be stalked or they say, "We'll look into it" but never receive a text or call. This is why your dream is to leave this town, you're nothing here. If you leave you can start fresh. You leave them on sent and close your laptop, you went downstairs making sure all the doors and windows were closed.
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nocturne-pisces · 2 years
Text
Bathtub Interlude
Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader
warnings: noncon/dubcon, forced orgasm, implied stalking, light misogyny, fingering
a/n: what was supposed to be a shameless dark!fanservice series has developed its own storyline. buckle up, hoes.
Part 3 of The Grocery List Series
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Everything is warm.
The bathroom walls reverberate the sound of moving water back at you, the smell of lavender and vanilla cradling your sore limbs and tired mind. You have to peel your cheek from Steve’s chest to look around.
Fragrant bubbles provide what little modesty you have, the feel of Steve— solid, hard, heavy underneath you makes you shudder. You passed out in his arms as he carried you up the stairs. He stripped himself bare, set your still damp panties on his dresser to savor later, and carefully lowered you into the bath on top of him.
You feel his hands slide up and down your calves, pressure applied to massage the muscle.
“You did so good for me today, sunshine.”
You try to push his hands away under the water, try to shuffle off of his lap and across the tub, but you’re no match for super soldier strength.
“Don’t be difficult. I’m proud of you,” he warns, his grip tightening around your ankle as your weak struggle continues.
It’s feeble, almost unheard, but unmistakable in the serum boosted hearing of Steve Rogers. “I want to go home,” you sob, your chest shaking as your crying takes you over.
His arms wrap around you, pressing you back down onto his chest, sandwiching his growing erection between you. “You are home,” he replies, the tips of his fingers coasting up your leg and between your thighs.
“Let me reward you for being good, sunshine.”
You want to thrash but you don’t have the energy, the warmth of the bath pinning your limbs as your head drops back against Steve’s chest. “There you go, honey. Get comfortable and just let me make you feel good.”
The flat of his palm glides up the inside of your thigh, turning to cup your mound as your legs clamp closed. “Don’t be difficult.” It’s your second warning and you can feel that it may be your last. He turns you in his lap, presses your back against his front and wrenches your knees open under the water.
The slick of your cunt is a different wet than the bath water, makes the slide of his fingers into your pulsing, overworked pussy easy. There’s a burn to it, where you’re already sensitive, where they’ve already forced orgasms from you.
You whimper, trying to run from his fingers, but there’s nowhere for you to go so they sink into you, curl against the soft spot behind your pubic bone and stoke that familiar flame at the base of your spine. It pulls a mewl from your throat that you don’t recognize, makes you grind down on his hand even though in the back of your mind you know he’s just using you.
“Look at you, sunshine, fucked within an inch of your life today by two of the strongest men on the planet and you still want more.”
You feel him throb against your asscheek. The twitch of his cock reminding you that, while his fingers stretched you open deliciously, his girth would fill you to the brim. In all of the emptiness created by being used by them, you craved to patch the holes the best you could, to fill the empty— be it with emotional connection or physical exhaustion.
Maybe that’s why you clung to his arm so hard.
“Steve,” you whine, water sloshing over the edge of the tub as you chase your impending orgasm.
“I knew you’d be a cock hungry slut for us, knew it the moment I saw you enter that frat house in that tiny little skirt.”
“Huh?” You try to process the implications past the sparks he’s working out of your core, but your hazy brain can’t work that hard.
“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart, just use my hand until you feel better and then we’ll go to bed.”
So, you do. You mindlessly fuck yourself on his fingers while he whispers filthy praise about your tight cunt and your appetite for bliss in your ear. He tells you how perfect you are for him, how he couldn’t wait to divorce Sharon so he could get his hands on you. Tells you how hard he had to restrain himself every time you showed up in that little bikini to swim in the pool with Eliana.
“I almost took you right then, did you know that? Dressed up like an angel on Halloween with those cute little wings when I know for a fact you’re a little demon.”
You can’t take anymore, can’t handle the expert strumming to your g-spot any longer, and your body locks. Your legs shake so violently that water is splashed into the floor and the breath is stolen from your lungs.
The time escapes you, but you wake up some time later being towel dried and dressed in one of Steve’s t-shirts. He shushes you gently, lets you pull the t-shirt close to cover yourself, the embarrassment of enjoying yourself creeping into your face.
“You’re alright, sunshine. Let’s get some sleep, we’re huntin’ at the state park tomorrow.”
He leaves a kiss on your head and wraps himself around you. If you had the energy to process what he said, you’d realize the state park didn’t allow animal hunting on the grounds.
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delldenaro · 4 months
Text
MULTIPLE CHARACTERS
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Dark 🖤☠️
In the mountains (ft. Bucky x Steve x reader) (@straywords)
Behave (ft. Natasha x Bucky x reader) (@p3sephone)
Fear play (ft. Bucky x Steve x Reader) (@myfictionaldreams)
Witness (ft. Bucky x Steve x Reader) (@darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor)
Spicy 🌶️❤️‍🔥
Coaxing you (ft. Steve x Eddie x reader) (@wndalovebot)
Three is better (ft. Bucky x Steve x reader) (@1-800-jjbarnes)
Indecent Proposal (ft. Bucky x Steve x Reader) (@holylulusworld)
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thenatashamaximoff · 9 months
Text
Whispers In The Dark; Ch. 2
Summary: When a casual one-night stand develops into a deeper, forbidden love, you and Wanda try to keep your relationship a secret as you navigate the challenges of balancing your growing emotions with the fear of being caught.
Pairing: Wanda x Reader
Warnings: 18+ (nsfw), mentions of death
Words: 6,174
✎ | ❁
┌─────────────ᗢ─────────────┐ @diaryoflife​ @women-am-i-right​ @creatively-analytical​ @obsessed-with-wandamaximoff @beforeoursecrets​ @iliketozoneout​ @olsensnpm​ @hoefnagel521 @chasingmaximoff  └─────────────ᗢ─────────────┘ ┌─────────────∞─────────────┐ @myfavoriteficss @pinkytoecrust @cyncity32 @romanoffomixam @peachbear88 @magicallymaximoff @therealmeari @peggycarter-steverogers @ba-romanoff @natashabelovas @morbid-gaymer @reminiscingtonight @when-wolves-howl @idontknownemore​ @natashasilverfox @sayah13 @fuxk182 @scarletwitchofthewilds @natashamaximoff69 @wuwu96 @jsonebraincell​ @whendarknessturns​ @marvel4liferz @red1culous​  └─────────────∞─────────────┘
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“Yes, sir.” You seemed to have stopped listening for a while now. You weren’t sure what he had said. The words had jumbled in your mind, making it difficult to comprehend the meaning behind them. You wondered if you had even articulated your response clearly, or if it had come out as unintelligible gibberish. It was as if the random noise in the back of your throat had escaped, mimicking speech without conveying any coherent message.
On the desk in front of you, Alexander Pierce’s face appeared on the computer screen. As your boss and the higher authority within the organization, his presence demanded attention and respect. Yet… you were struggling to do just that. For what was probably the gazillionth time in the span of twenty minutes, your eyes slowly shifted away from the virtual meeting to land on the folder resting amidst the scattered papers that littered the desk’s surface. Wanda Maximoff’s name was emblazoned in bold, black ink on the tab, enticing your curiosity. It seemed that the comprehensive dossier on her had arrived just before this unexpected meeting commenced. You hadn’t had a chance to explore its contents, as other pressing matters took precedence. 
You had hoped that it would’ve faded into the recesses of your mind, much like the other neglected folders resting amidst the sea of unpacked boxes in your apartment. Yet, its persistent presence refused to be ignored, exerting what felt like a gravitational pull on your thoughts, compelling you to explore its hidden contents.
The allure of the folder became too enticing to resist any longer. With a mix of curiosity and trepidation, you reached out… but the moment your fingers grazed it, you were snapped back to attention by the mere sound of her name rolling off of Alexander Pierce’s tongue. “It has come to my attention that you sent Wanda Maximoff on a highly sensitive operation this morning.”
“Yes, sir.” The fog that had clouded your thoughts began to dissipate, replaced by a renewed sense of alertness. You recalled the mission you had assigned her earlier, a covert operation of significant importance. “The assignment involved retrieving Loki Laufeyson, Thor’s brother,” you explained, making sure your words were clear and coherent this time. “Agent Maximoff’s unique abilities made her a valuable asset for the task. As far as I’m concerned, she executed it with precision and achieved the objective successfully. The man in question is sitting in one of our… rigged capsules.”
Pierce’s scrutinizing gaze remained fixed on you, his expression unreadable. “I hope you understand the gravity of the situation, Director,” he stated sternly. “Not only are Maximoff’s powers still relatively unknown and untested, but she also has a past that makes it difficult to trust her. We cannot afford any mishaps or breaches in security.”
You maintained a composed demeanor, acknowledging the seriousness of Pierce’s concerns. “I understand the gravity of the situation, sir,” you assured in a steady voice. “While Agent Maximoff’s powers may be unfamiliar to us, she has demonstrated her loyalty and commitment to the mission. Her past may raise questions, but she has been thoroughly vetted and deemed fit for the task.”
Pierce’s expression remained wary, but a hint of curiosity flickered in his eyes. “Vetting can only provide limited assurances,” he cautioned. “We must tread carefully when dealing with individuals of such complex backgrounds. Their loyalties can… shift unpredictably.” His eyes were guarded behind a steely look as his words hung in the air, underscoring the delicate nature of the situation and the potential risks involved.
You met his gaze head-on, unyielding in your resolve as a determined spark ignited within you. “I’m well aware of the risks, sir,” you responded firmly, your tone brimming with conviction. “Agent Maximoff’s past may be complicated, but her actions thus far have shown dedication and commitment. She successfully apprehended Loki under the radar. I entrusted her with a mission, and she exceeded all expectations.” Leaning forward, you rested your elbows against the top of the desk, emphasizing your earnestness. “I understand the need for caution, sir, but how can we expect someone to earn trust if they’re never given the opportunity?”
You could’ve sworn you caught Pierce’s expression softening, but he was quick to catch it, steeling himself once more. “You have an optimistic view of her,” he remarked, though his wariness remained visible in his tone. “Just ensure that your optimism doesn’t blind you to potential threats. Keep a close eye on her, Director.”
“I will exercise vigilance, sir,” you assured him. “The safety and integrity of this organization are my utmost priorities. We will monitor her closely and act accordingly should any concerns arise.” As you spoke, your attention was momentarily captured by the sound of your office door swinging open and then closing. Your heart quickened its pace when you watched Wanda confidently stride into the room, maintaining eye contact over the top of the laptop while sitting against the arm of the couch, a subtle smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. The intense energy between you was palpable, and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of anticipation.
Pierce’s voice brought you back to the present, jolting you out of the spell Wanda’s presence had cast. “Very well, Director,” he acknowledged, his tone authoritative. “I trust your ability to handle this matter with the necessary caution. Keep me informed of any significant developments.”
You nodded in response, slightly struggling to keep your voice steady and determined, “Yes, sir.”
With those parting words, the screen flickered and Pierce’s presence dissipated, ultimately allowing you to turn your gaze back to Wanda, who was still resting against the couch, a small, enigmatic smile playing on her lips. You closed the laptop slowly, deliberately, allowing yourself a moment to collect your thoughts. The room seemed to buzz with an electric charge, and the intensity of the connection between you and Wanda lingered in the air. 
No matter how hard you tried, no matter how much you knew you had to… you couldn’t deny the magnetic pull between the two of you.
“I wasn’t aware I had an open-door policy, Miss Maximoff,” you remarked. As you casually adjusted your position, leaning back in your chair, your arm subtly slid across the desk with your movement, purposefully disrupting the already-scattered pile of papers to conceal the folder containing her dossier.
She chuckled softly, lowly, yet you heard it all too well. “Well, Director, I couldn’t resist the temptation to see you in action,” she replied, her voice carrying a teasing undertone.
A playful spark seemed to ignite within you, and you found yourself leaning forward just as she was slowly moving to stand. “Is that so?” you retorted, a glimmer of excitement unwillingly dancing in your eyes. “Perhaps I should enforce stricter rules then.”
Wanda’s smirk grew more pronounced, and she began closing the distance between you with calculated steps. “Or maybe,” she offered, her voice low and suggestive, “we can find another way to bend them just a little.”
Your eyes darted to the laptop, remnants of the video call with Alexander Pierce slipping into your mind. The weight of your responsibilities bore down on you, reminding you of the delicate balance you had to maintain within the organization. The lines between professional conduct and personal inclinations blurred in the presence of Wanda Maximoff.
The air crackled with suspense as she rounded the desk, pushing against the top of your chair until you were fully facing her. Once again, the weight of responsibility is completely forgotten. Your jaw dropped open, a word on the tip of your tongue, yet no sounds could be heard when Wanda gently lowered herself onto you, straddling your lap as her fingers gripped the back of your neck. Your movements were automatic, your hands resting on her hips as you seemed to have trouble looking away from her emerald irises. 
“Wanda…” You were trying to say her name with authority, trying to warn her that she shouldn’t be doing this, but your body sold you out. Instead, you said her name wanton, as if you were begging for more because, fight as hard as you can, Y/N, you did want more.
And her low, breathy chuckle told you she knew that, too. “I told you,” she whispered, bending slightly so her lips brushed your ear. “I was more than willing to wait to finish thoroughly.” She took your earlobe in between her teeth just as she drove her hips against you, pulling a gasp from your throat while your stomach twisted like a coil.
Your grip on her waist tightened with need, and you gave in to the feeling pushing against you. With one quick maneuver, your lips were pressed into hers, swallowing her moans as your hands guided her rutting. Your insides throbbed with desire, your fingers danced up her shirt as she took over her own motions, and the way she moaned your name into your ear had you gasping. You turned in the chair, Wanda bracing herself against the desk behind her, and the movement seemed to brush some of the scattered papers off of your desk and to the floor.
“Touch me, Y/N,” she whispered, panted, begged. It sent shivers up your spine.
You obliged, allowing the tips of your fingers to ride the supple surface of her abdomen until they reached the hem of her bra. The skin under the garment was warm, and she was groaning the moment your touch skirted over the area she desired to be touched the most. Her chin tilted back as you leaned forward, exposing her neck to give you more access as your lips brushed across it like a feather. 
“Wanda, I’m…” Your words trailed off as a sudden clap of thunder reverberated through the air, jolting you back to reality. The sound seemed to echo in your ears, its intensity leaving you slightly unnerved, yet Wanda appeared unfazed by the disturbance. The moment you pulled back, she pushed forward, pressing her lips to the soft skin just underneath your jaw. It was like flipping a switch, plunging back into the captivating allure of Wanda’s touches and the sensations they bring. However, reality wasn’t going to let go of you that easily, reclaiming its hold as a series of sharp and loud knocks resounded throughout the room.
Unlike earlier, Wanda wasn’t as willing to part ways this time. She released a deep, irritated breath as she swiftly climbed off your lap mere moments before the door opened. A woman popped her head into the room, her eyes bouncing back and forth between you and Wanda for a moment before finally settling on you. She looked familiar, her name making an uncomfortable itch appear in the back of your mind as she fully entered the room.
“Ma’am,” her voice broke through the hazy enchantment, serving as a reminder of the woman’s identity. You recalled her from earlier in the day, realizing that she had requested your signature for… something, yet her name seemed to elude your memory. “There’s an urgent matter that requires your immediate attention.”
You pressed your lips together, scratching the back of your neck before you moved to stand up. Now that Wanda’s body wasn’t pumping adrenaline through you, exhaustion seems to be sneaking up on you pretty quickly. It was evident in your eyes, but your movements didn’t lack confidence as you followed the woman (whose name you can’t remember for some awful reason).
As she guided you down the corridors of the compound, the clamor of raised voices grew louder. Surely this was the urgent matter the woman had mentioned.
Rounding the corner, a scene unfolded before you - a swarm of SHIELD agents surrounding a central figure, their attention fixated on the source of the commotion. It was none other than Thor Odinson, radiating an unmistakable aura of anger and frustration at the heart of the gathering.
“I demand for my brother to be released at once!” he commanded, his furrowed brows displaying deep frustration and determination. His body turned, eyes searching the growing crowd, seeking an authoritative figure. “Loki belongs in the prisons of Asgard, not held captive in some mere human penitentiary! Show me to him!”
“That’s not happening,” you declared, the sea of agents parting at the sound of your voice. It was instant that Thor’s piercing blue eyes snapped onto you, eyeing the way you stood as tall as you could with your hands gripping your hips, projecting an air of superiority. “Your brother stands accused of grave crimes against humanity. He is required by law to face consequences, whether or not he is a god or the adopted brother of one.”
“And he shall see to those consequences on Asgard.”
“He didn’t seem to last very long in your prison,” you countered, your arms firmly crossing over your chest as you held your ground. The tension in the hall thickened as your words hung in the air “Considering he’s here and not there, did he get early release for good behavior?” Thor’s eyes narrowed, his gaze intensifying, while faint chuckles floated from the onlookers. Your focus remained on his intimidating presence. The soft laughter ceased just as quickly as it came to be, swallowed by the weight of the situation when he took a small yet heavy step forward, his expression becoming sterner.
“Where’s Fury?” Thor’s voice was laced with a mix of suspicion and urgency. The mention of the former director’s absence seemed to ignite a spark of concern within him.
You cleared your throat, your tone unwavering as you met Thor’s fiery gaze. “He’s no longer with us. Unfortunately for you, Mr. Odinson, that puts me in charge.” Authority floated around you as you stepped forward with confidence despite the anger displayed on his face. “Loki stays here.”
The area grew quiet, the anticipation hanging thick in the air. All eyes were fixed upon the clash of wills between you and Thor, the atmosphere crackled with tension as the two of you stood locked in a silent battle of determination. The fate of Loki hung in the balance, and it was clear that both of you were determined to defend your respective positions.
“Loki is my brother. My responsibility,” Thor announced, his voice growing deeper and more forceful. “I’m not leaving until he is at my side, and anyone who stands in my way will face their own consequences.” The agents in the room exchanged uneasy glances, recognizing the potential for conflict that loomed before them. Some even slowly moved their hands to rest on their sidearms, and you could feel your stomach twisting tautly with nerves. Hopefully, it doesn’t come down to that.
You took a deep breath, steeling yourself against the mounting pressure. It was clear that Thor’s determination had escalated, and finding a peaceful resolution would be an uphill battle. But you couldn’t allow the situation to escalate into violence or compromise the safety of those nearby. “I understand the bond you share with Loki, Mr. Odinson,” you finally said, your tone steady despite the growing tension, “but we cannot allow personal attachments to undermine our duty and the security of innocent lives. We must consider the results of releasing Loki into an environment where he has proven to be a threat.”
Your decision was met with an intense gaze, his grip on Mjolnir tightening, sparks of electricity crackling around him. The crowd held its breath, awaiting his next move.
“Stand aside,” Thor growled, his voice filled with anger and resolve, “or face the full fury of a god.”
Your heart raced rapidly, beating against your chest as he seemed to stand taller before you, but you stood your ground, refusing to be intimidated. “Violence is not the answer.” You lifted a hand in an attempt to calm him down as you added, “We must find a way to resolve this without causing harm to anyone.”
The air seemed to tremble with the unspoken clash between the two of you. The agents watched on, their loyalty divided between their duty and the power emanating from Thor. At that moment, you realized that finding a compromise would be even more challenging than anticipated. The fate of Loki, the security of the organization, and the potential for a confrontation hung in the balance, awaiting a resolution that could satisfy both duty and familial bonds.
Heavy silence suffocated you as Thor’s gaze bore through you, his muscles tensed and ready for action. It wasn’t a debate anymore, it was a standoff. A battle of wills that threatened to tip over into chaos. The weight of the decision rested upon your shoulders, and the outcome would shape the course of events to come.
It was a moment of unexpected intervention. As Thor attempted to wield his hammer, a surge of red energy surrounded his wrist, hindering his progress. His mighty strength rendered ineffective against the force, causing his brows to knit together with rage, his pupils narrowing even further to mere crumbs. His gaze shifted behind you, and you turned to witness Wanda, her eyes ablaze with a fiery crimson hue, exerting her own power to counter Thor’s aggression. You found your stomach uncoiling when she met your stare with a soft, easy smile.
Hushed whispers filled the air as the two powerful beings struggled against each other, the agents watching in awe and apprehension, unsure of how this unexpected turn of events would unfold.
“Release me!” Thor’s voice boomed, his demand filled with indignation and defiance.
You felt a renewed sense of empowerment surge within you, a willful smirk curling your lips. The tables had turned, and you held the upper hand for now. With a determined gaze, you stood your ground, undeterred by Thor’s wrath. “Not until you calm down,” you declared, voice steady and commanding. It was a bold move, challenging the god of thunder himself, but you were resolute in your stance. The safety of everyone involved and the preservation of order was paramount.
Thor’s expression shifted from anger to incredulity, his eyebrows furrowing deeper as he grappled with the unexpected resistance he faced. The room crackled with charged energy, the clash between power and authority hanging in the balance. “I’m calm,” he finally said.
Wanda’s crimson eyes locked with yours once more, a silent understanding passing between you. She released her hold on him, and Thor straightened his form as his eyes danced back to you. He stared at you for a moment, feeling as if he were sizing you up, or as if he were forming another plan in that brain of his to get his brother back. Either way, you didn’t back down.
“Very well,” he conceded, his voice tinged with disappointment. “But know this, Director, I will be watching closely.” He turned on his heels, the crowd of agents instantly parting to give way as he marched away. The presence of the Asgardian gradually faded, his departure leaving behind a lingering sense of tension in the room.
You nodded, clapping your hands together while you announced, “Back to work, everybody.” As the agents returned to their normal rhythm, dispersing to resume their duties, the weight of the confrontation slowly lifted from your shoulders. You turned to fully face Wanda, but your gaze slowly drifted to Coulson lingering behind her in time to catch his small nod before he left.
“That was very impressive,” Wanda mused, struggling to hide the mischievous smirk that played upon her lips. With each sly step she took towards you, your heart quickened its pace, climbing up to your throat, unable to escape the intensity of the moment. The darkening depths of her eyes added an electrifying allure, casting a spell upon your senses. “It takes a special kind of courage to challenge a god, especially one consumed by anger.”
The surge of pride coursed through your veins, straightening your posture and bolstering your confidence. With a casual shrug, you maintained an air of nonchalance, even as you found yourself drawn closer to her magnetic presence. “I wouldn’t be a very good director if I cowered away at mere inconveniences, Miss Maximoff.”
She responded with a whimsical hum, her playful head tilt accompanied by the tantalizing sight of her teeth capturing her bottom lip. Her eyes glistened with desire, casting a bewitching spell that ensnared your senses. Lost in the haze of her allure, your arm instinctively reached out, compelled to gently sweep away the stray strands of hair that adorned her cheek. For a fleeting moment, you forgot your surroundings - that you weren’t in the solitude of your office, nor the seclusion of her apartment - until an abrupt chirp shattered the illusion. Your phone, a stark reminder of reality, jolted you back to your senses. Like a switch being flipped, full control over yourself snapped back, causing your breath to hitch in your throat as you hastily stepped away from her. The passionate darkness in her emerald irises wavered, replaced by a tinge of disappointment as you cleared your throat, forcing yourself to avert your gaze and reach for your phone.
The spell was broken, and the weight of your responsibilities crashed back down upon you when you read your boss’s name on the screen, serving as a harsh reminder of the boundaries that needed to be maintained. The boundaries you are constantly neglecting.
“Excuse me, Miss Maximoff, but duty calls,” you uttered, your voice betraying a hint of reluctance. As you lifted your eyes to meet hers once more, a strange sensation washed over you, causing your legs to momentarily falter. Lost within the depths of her captivating gaze, you found yourself trapped in a trance unlike any before. The usual desires, seductive playfulness, and mischievous glints were replaced with something different - something softer, more powerless.
In that brief instance, vulnerability danced in the depths of her eyes, as if revealing a hidden side that had previously remained concealed. It tugged at your heartstrings, stirring a mix of emotions within you. The allure remained, but it was laced with a yearning for connection and understanding. It was a vulnerable invitation, silently pleading for you to acknowledge the unspoken depths of her being.
However, duty compelled you to tear yourself away from the enchanting pull. With a resolute sigh, you mustered the strength to regain control over your legs, willing them to move forward. Yet, the memory of that moment lingered in the recesses of your mind, leaving an indelible mark upon you.
You could feel her eyes on the back of your head as you walked away.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ᗢ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
“Come in,” you announced automatically, barely lifting your gaze from the papers scattered across your desk. The routine had become second nature to you: someone knocked, you acknowledged their presence, signed whatever document they presented, and swiftly dismissed them. Your hand instinctively reached out to receive the clipboard, expecting the familiar weight of papers to land in your palm. But the footsteps approaching your desk seemed unusually slow, causing a flicker of curiosity to interrupt your monotonous rhythm.
Lifting your head, you found yourself locking eyes with Coulson. To your surprise, his hands were empty, folded neatly across his chest as he fixed an expectant gaze upon you. The absence of paperwork left you momentarily puzzled, prompting a question to escape your lips. 
“Am I missing something here?” He maintained his composed stance, the air in the room growing heavy with unspoken revelations, and the gravity of the moment enveloped you. “Out with it, Coulson,” you pressed.
“Mr. Pierce is waiting for you in the conference room.” He met your gaze steadily, clearing his throat as he patiently waited for your mind to process his words.
Confusion furrowed your brows for a brief moment before surprise widened your eyes as you frantically sifted through the papers on your desk, searching for your phone. Desperation laced your voice as you hastily denied the imminent arrival. “No, he’s not due until tomorrow,” you protested, a touch of desperation seeping into your words. “It’s-”
“Ten in the morning.” Coulson interrupted your frantic search, his head tilting to the side as he observed your panicked movements. The unspoken thoughts that passed between you were evident in his expression. No, you hadn’t gone home. No, you hadn’t slept. Yes, you were doing all this paperwork Pierce sent over last night. Yes, your mind had been consumed with thoughts of Wanda Maximoff. The weight of your responsibilities and the unanticipated turn of events collided, leaving you reeling with a mix of exhaustion, longing, and apprehension.
In the corner of your eye, a glimmer caught your attention, obscured beneath the papers on your desk. Relief washed over you as you successfully fished your phone out of the chaotic pile. However, any fleeting sense of triumph swiftly dissipated when you glanced at the screen. Coulson’s words echoed in your mind, confirming Pierce’s untimely arrival and a wave of anxiety surged through you. The details of this meeting eluded you as if shrouded by a foggy haze.
Without a second though, you sprang to your feet with such haste that your chair careened into the wall behind you. The loud thud punctuated the urgency of the situation, emphasizing the disarray that mirrored your racing thoughts. Time seemed to accelerate as you quickly gathered your composure, determined to face the impending meeting, even if you couldn’t recall its purpose.
You exited the room, the door slowly sliding shut behind you, leaving your deputy director alone. However, it didn’t take long for a realization to dawn upon you, prompting a swift about-face. Sheepishly, you poked your head back into the office, a contrite smile adorning your face. “Where’s the conference room?” His finger pointed in the direction you needed to go, and with a nod of gratitude, you swiftly disappeared once more, determined to find your way to the meeting.
Upon reaching the conference room door, the sound of laughter emanating from within caused your muscles to tense up. One laugh was unmistakably Pierce’s, characterized by its gruffness and rigidity. However, the other laughter resonated deep within you, igniting a warmth in your gut that was undeniable. The mere sound of her laugh had the power to captivate you, making you hesitate to open the door and disrupt the harmonious melody unfolding on the other side. But you quickly snapped out of your daze, remembering that Wanda Maximoff should not be engaged in friendly conversation with your boss.
With resolve, you entered the room and confirmed your instincts. Wanda was indeed immersed in a cheerful conversation with Alexander Pierce, both of them sporting smiles. You forced one of your own, but as soon as you met those sparkling green eyes, your grin became authentic. “What’s going on in here?” you inquired, closing the distance to the occupied table.
“There you are, Director. Please, take a seat and join us,” Pierce greeted with unexpected cheerfulness, a major difference from the stern man you’d spoken to through the computer not that long ago. He gestured toward the seat next to Wanda, and you reluctantly settled into the chair while attempting to maintain a noticeable distance from the woman. “Where have you been hiding this one from us?” He looked toward Wanda, whose face had grown brighter when she saw you. “She’s an absolute delight! And she’s already ours for the taking.” Soft laughter lingered in his voice, leaving you intrigued about their earlier conversation.
The sight of Pierce’s ease and comfort with Wanda - as if they were old friends - immediately after issuing a strict order for you to monitor her due to a lack of trust in the new Avenger sent waves of unease rippling through you. It was disconcerting to witness such a stark contrast in his behavior, as if the order had been mere words with no real significance. Your mind raced with questions, trying to comprehend the motives behind his contradictory actions. Did he genuinely trust Wanda more than he let on? Or was there a hidden agenda at play? Doubt gnawed at you.
Wanda chimed in playfully, answering on your behalf while keeping her eyes trained on you, “Oh, Y/N just loves keeping me for herself.” However, as she spoke, Pierce’s demeanor shifted abruptly, returning to his usual strict professionalism. He studied Wanda intently, causing her to divert her gaze from you to meet his scrutinizing one. A knot of anticipation formed in your stomach as you watched him silently analyze her.
He cleared his throat, shaking his head for a moment before turning to you. “I’m impressed by how you handled the Loki situation,” he confessed. A glimmer of pride shone in his eyes, contrasting with his rugged expression. “It was your first assignment, a significant one at that, not to mention. To be honest, I wasn’t sure you had what it took, but I’m not one to shy away from admitting I was wrong.”
Leaning forward, Wanda placed a gentle hand on your shoulder and spoke, her voice filled with admiration, “It’s only been a day, but I think Y/N’s been doing a wonderful job so far.” This time, your smile remained forced as you subtly shifted your shoulder, discreetly removing her hand from your touch under Pierce’s watchful eyes.
“I can handle anything thrown at me, sir,” you commented in an attempt to divert his attention.
He cleared his throat, his eyes dancing back and forth between you and Wanda for a quiet, tense moment before asking, “Do you let all your agents call you by your first name?”
“No, sir-”
“I don’t see how that’s really relevant here,” she interrupted, not mincing her words. You swallowed the thick saliva that had formed in your throat, the knot in your gut beginning to grow tighter. “I believe that she-”
“Agent Maximoff,” you interjected swiftly, your voice firm, trying to regain control of the situation. You avoided meeting her eyes as they flickered toward you. “That’ll be all for now.” The room fell into an uncomfortable silence, with Wanda watching you, Pierce observing her, and you staring at the table, desperate to dodge all eyes.
“Yes, Director.” You winced subtly at the tone of her voice, ultimately telling you that she was not pleased with your dismissal. Surely she wasn’t one to hold a grudge over something so minute… right? 
Pierce adjusted his suit jacket as she made her way out of the room, leaving the two of you alone. The sound of the door closing resonated in the quiet before his voice finally cut through it, “I’m not questioning your ability to do this job, Director.”
“Hasn’t even crossed my mind, sir,” you assured.
“I mean, you’re the first female lead since the fifties. I have the right to be cautious.” His smile appeared forced, lacking the sincerity it held when you first entered the room. The tension returned, and he seemed to fully revert to his usual self. “I came here to ask about your plans with Loki.”
“We have him contained in a specially designed confinement capsule aboard the Helicarrier,” you began, your voice steady and composed. “The cell is equipped with a failsafe. Any attempts to escape or breach the containment will trigger a rapid descent mechanism, dropping whoever is in the cell a significant distance.” You glanced at Pierce, ensuring that he was following your explanation. His eyes narrowed slightly, indicating his focus on the matter at hand. “I made it clear to Loki about the consequences of any efforts of escape,” you continued. “The knowledge of imminent death should serve as a deterrent and discourage any further disruptions or attempts to regain his freedom. My plan for Loki is to keep him imprisoned to prevent any further damage to Earth.”
Pierce nodded, slow and precise movements, but you sensed by the way he leaned back that he was ready to voice his concerns. “You want to keep him locked up for the rest of time?” He scoffed, a humorless laugh crawling out of his throat as he shook his head. “Loki has caused substantial damage to New York, costing us billions of dollars.”
“He has also taken just as many innocent lives,” you quickly claimed. “It’s not about the money, sir. People-”
“That’s beside the point,” he interrupted. “Keeping him locked up isn’t enough.”
Your eyebrows knitted together deeply as you eyed him, trying to get a good read on his face, but he was a closed book with no chance of getting it to open. “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m not sure I understand what you’re implying.”
Pierce’s gaze solidified, his tone growing more serious. “What I’m implying, Director, is that simply containing Loki isn’t a long-term solution. We need to consider more permanent measures to ensure he can never pose a threat again.”
A flicker of concern crossed your face as you contemplated the weight of his words. “Are you suggesting…?”
He leaned forward, his voice lowered. “I’m suggesting we explore options for a more definitive resolution,” he explained.
Your breath caught in the back of your throat, the earnestness of his proposition sinking in. “You’re talking about… terminating Loki?”
His expression remained impassive, but there was an underlying intensity in his eyes. “I didn’t propose such an extreme measure, Director.” He shrugged loosely, a sly smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “Loki is a prideful god. He views humans as insignificant and feeble creatures. It’s only a matter of time before his arrogance is bound to make him disregard your warnings and… attempt to escape his rigged prison. If he chooses that path, we cannot be held accountable.”
You paused, allowing his words to sink in, fully aware of the subtle subtext beneath his statement. It was a strategic maneuver to absolve himself and the organization of any responsibility. By framing Loki’s demise as a consequence of his own pretentious choices, he aimed to keep your - and his own - hands free from the stain of his blood.
The knot in your stomach - the one you had thought had dispersed at Wanda’s departure - reappeared, only this time it launched itself into your throat. The way his eyes gleamed with a sinister glint made you feel nauseous. “Sir, I understand the severity of Loki’s actions, but we must also remember our duty to uphold the principles of justice and due process. We cannot become judge, jury, and executioner,” you argued.
His gaze bore into yours, his voice unwavering, “We can’t afford to let sentimentality cloud our judgment. Loki has proven time and again that he is a danger to global security. We must be willing to consider all options, even if they are difficult.”
The weight of his words pressed upon you, and you knew you weren’t going to convince him otherwise no matter how hard you fought. Still, you didn’t plan on giving in so easily just yet. “Then we must exhaust all alternatives, explore advanced containment methods, and leverage our resources to ensure the safety of both our agents and the world.”
Pierce’s face hardened, the lines etched deeper into his features. “Director,” he began, folding his hands on top of the table between you and him, “there will come a point where we have exhausted all options. Don’t you think it’d be a waste of time, resources, and money to only end up at the same outcome?” He smiled lightly, a wicked tinge to the expression. “We cannot shy away from that possibility.”
Your eyes locked with his, a silent battle of principles and pragmatism. You had gone head to head with the God of Thunder and won. Yet, here you were, butting heads with a mortal man and on the verge of losing. “I refuse to believe that we must sacrifice our values is the only path to achieving the greater good. It is our duty to explore other solutions, to seek justice and preserve life - all lives. We cannot embrace the mindset that justifies shedding blood. There must always be a line we will not cross.”
His gaze softened ever so slightly, a flicker of begrudging respect crossing his features. “I must admit, Director, your unwavering dedication is commendable.” However, the smile that lingered on his lips revealed his underlying satisfaction. It was evident that you had officially lost this battle, succumbing to his ability to see to it that you would never step foot inside a SHIELD building for the rest of your life. “I expect a comprehensive report in my email by the end of the week.” He swiftly rose from his seat, adjusting his jacket with deliberate movements. “An autopsy report,” he clarified his tone laced with a chilling edge. A twisted smile played on his lips, the sinister glint in his eyes sending a shiver down your spine. It was a reminder of the darkness that lurked beneath his polished exterior.
With that final unsettling gesture, he exited, leaving you alone with the weight of his demands.
163 notes · View notes
espinosaurusrexex · 10 months
Text
All the Words I Can't Say
College!SteveRogers x Female!Reader AU
summary: Steve can't help it. He is just so enchanted that all he ever draws is you. Too bad he will never actually talk to you, though - that's too scary. But Bucky always says he has to face his fears some day...
a/n: I have a playlist for College!SteveRogers. It was originally for another fic I’ve written, but apparently I can’t not imagine him awkward and love struck in any college universe. So this serves as a general College Stevie AU vibe :) 
word count: 2.6k
warnings: awkward, love-dazed Stevie, fluff?, swearing, and so sorry (but it's giving slight stalker vibes... it really wasn't my intention he's just so obsessed)
・゚✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | 𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒈𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒗𝒆 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 。✭・゚・
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He dreams in color. They are the words he can’t say, painted on a canvas.
Blue fades in clear water. Like a feeling warming you for a second, a spark. It’s beautiful, Steve thinks. He loves it when his brush does it. He feels like a wizard when the pigment dissolves into the clear again - as if it had never been there before. Hidden in the masses of molecules, disguised only as long as it stays in its entity. Not too much - too much is never good. 
Another drop lands in the water, but now it starts to taint in washed color. Steve still loves it - it’s still magical. But there is something he loves even more. And it’s right there in front of him - not really. But almost. Depicted in oranges and browns, purples and blues, yellows, greens and reds - your eyes stare back at him with adoration. And Steve’s heart skips. Then it clenches and stops. It always does that... when the admonition flashes in his mind. 
It’s not real.
He has to remind himself too often. But he can’t help it. It’s too comforting to live in his fantasies - warm and safe - all he ever needed. Now it hurts with every stroke he dares. It’s not like he hasn’t done it dozens of times before. A notebook filled with sketches hidden beneath the mattress in his bedroom serves as proof of this. It never does anything other than remind him of what will never be a reality, though. You in his arms, you with love painted on your face for him. 
His thumb strokes over the dried paint on the canvas but a part of his finger still smudges it. Damn it, he hasn’t checked his fingers. Now there’s purple on your face, out of place and destroying - but daring all the same. It looks quite beautiful beneath your eyes, makes them shine brighter, makes your smile softer somehow. 
Steve sighs. The purple streak is going to stay for now. He washes his brushes out in the sink, recapping the bottles of paint scattering the studio he’s in. And before long, he flicks the lights off and locks the door. Professor Potts gave him the key for ‘when he needed to let it all out again’. He needs to show her some work soon.
It’s dark out when he reaches the path to his dorm. Stars shine as bright as they can against the unrelenting city lights. It’s hopeless. Just like Steve’s track of time when he paints you, the stars don’t stand a chance. It’s well over midnight when Steve unlocks his room. Bucky would be up. He has been out, drinking with Sam. But even if he would have stayed home, he probably couldn’t sleep... like always. So, Steve doesn’t bother being quiet. 
“Another late-night date with the canvas?” The brunette peers over his phone, though his eyes hold concern for Steve. He has told him hundreds of times before. Go out. Meet people. Don’t dig yourself deeper into this hopeless crush. But Steve never listened. He likes his hopelessness. And, besides, even if he tried to get over you, he knows it wouldn’t be possible. 
His smile finds the ground before he disappears into the bathroom where his sunken eyes stare back at him. He would be dreaming about you tonight - he always does when he paints you. And he looks forward to it, too. 
❁ ❁ ❁
You pass by him once again. It’s weird, because Steve swears he’s smiling, but his mouth won’t listen. He looks like an idiot. If only he could talk to you - Yeah, no. that isn’t an option. Because just thinking about it makes his heart go crazy fast. It’s scary because you’re so beautiful. And he knows he shouldn’t size himself down to leagues and scales, but how can he not when literally all of college is all about it? Bucky says he should grow some balls and ask you out or leave it be. But here’s the thing: he can’t leave it be - and he can most definitely not talk to you. It’s too scary - too foreign.
His brush dips back into lilac. He embraces the smudge now. Hated it for a while - but then it grew on him. Now it needs more shades. His tongue darts out as he tries to precisely draw along the curve of your cheekbone. He gets a little excited and his hand wants to shake, but he can hold it steady, he has practiced it enough.
Now another stroke. And another. Steve finds amusement in the color pouring onto his canvas. The smudge might have been the best mistake he’s ever made. Then again, there are no mistakes in painting. Accidents are meant to happen. They show the painter what their mind wants to see. 
“Is that... me?” Steve’s hands go flying and the brush throws purple all around him.
Oh no. Code red code red code red - that’s a fucking code red!
You just stand there as Steve flinches with the wooden brush hitting the floor, paint sprinkles covering your face - stunned, silent. This is a nightmare. He’s holding his breath. Really, there’s nothing he can do but hope he won’t pass out from the way your eyes bore into his wide and shocked. Though there is a softness in them still. You’re not angry - at least he doesn’t think so. Maybe, if he’s still a little longer, he’ll just disappear. 
That doesn’t happen. Obviously. Because god hates him.
His mouth opens, but there is not a sound formed by his tongue. He should apologize - he needs to apologize. God, but your eyes look too pretty with the purple accentuating your skin. He’s not even mad about it. He could look at it forever, look at you forever. Not that he doesn’t already do exactly that for the majority of his day. But still. 
“Are you okay?” You blink out of your trance and now Steve is panicking even more. “No need to apologize, by the way, I’m fine. Just got caught in a paint grenade.” Your eyes wander down your body and now Steve can see the fine blotches of lilac seeping into your shirt. It's white - shit. 
“I-” He’s trying, he really is. But something isn’t working up there. He just short circuits - wires smoking and all. It’s a complete mess. No wonder he can’t talk. And then your pretty gaze - he just needs to feel it and he’s melting away and, oh shit did you just see the painting? There are several stages of disaster but on a measure from failing a test to your mom dying, this is a six on the Richter scale. Why can’t he just say something?
He opens his mouth again and a weird noise escapes his tongue. What the fuck was that? By the look on your face, he can tell you’re just as surprised. But then your shoulders sag and you sigh.
“I shouldn’t have startled you like that, that was my fault. But this,” your gesture towards your shirt, “this is yours.” He swallows thickly, you seem to be really mad about that shirt. “You really speared nothing but that canvas.”
Now his body turns to the project propped up behind him. The canvas, right. You stare back at him, and now that you actually stand so close before him, he’s impressed at how lifelike he made your portrait. He’s surrounded by you, staring him down, but somehow your presence calms him. One last look at the purple smidge beneath your painted eyes and the breath returns to his lounges. 
“I���m sorry,” Steve says when he spins back to you.
A small smile is placed on your lips and it reminds him of the series of sketches he made while you were laughing with your friends the other day. “Oh, so you can talk.”
“Sometimes,” he mutters to himself but he’s sure you’ve heard it. He turns to look at the painting again as he curses his carelessness. He can’t even stop you when you step forward to have a closer look at the artwork yourself. It’s too late now, anyway.
You reach forward but halt just in time. Unlike Steve, you didn’t smear the paint on your fingers all over the piece. “It’s very good.” 
Of course, it is. He puts everything in his paintings. All the things he can’t say. And, as he just noticed, that’s a whole lot.
“Thank you.” It’s small but it slips past his lips with ease. He never likes to accept compliments, but it’s different when you give them. He seeks your approval, especially now that you have caught him shamelessly reaping a piece of your privacy with his obsession.
Your eyes sway to him and then back to your portrait, and Steve is enchanted by the way your skin looks when the light hits it just right. He makes a mental note to draw you like this when he gets home - that is if you haven’t forbidden him to do so anymore. But who is he kidding? He’ll do it anyway, it’s an addiction.
His feet take him closer to you, and soon he’s gazing over your shoulder from a foot away, watching you watch the painting that’s looking right back at him. He’s trapped in the gaze he created and it’s taunting him: This is a mess. Then why doesn’t it feel messy?
Steve is so close to you, he can smell your shampoo, the faint remnant of the perfume you put on this morning, probably. It’s intoxicating, it draws him in and he can’t take his eyes off of you. His fingers are itching to touch you. He can imagine his hand moving your collar away to trail kisses from your shoulder to your collarbone - stop it, Steve. His face is heating up and his hands clench beside his body. 
“How long have you been working on this?” You spin around now suddenly, those lively eyes stare back at him, more intense - more real than he’s used to. And Steve can’t handle it, but his body isn’t looking away either. 
“Not that long,” he whispers as his focus lands on a moderate splatter of lilac beneath your eye. It’s not a lie, he’s memorized your features. Steve doesn’t even register your answer, he’s fixated on that little purple drop of color on your skin. It has a hold on him, he can’t do anything. 
“Why are you staring like that? Do I have something on my face?” It’s a silly joke, but Steve can’t tell you that you do. It would risk you swiping it away. And he can’t have that. Not when he wants to do it himself. He can’t do that, though, the purple spot is mocking him. And then, suddenly, like a bystander, he watches his hand move towards your face. He can’t stop it, it’s like an accident - he just needs to look, but he can’t do anything about it either. 
When his thumb finally makes contact with your skin, the world around him freezes again. There you are, so close before him, he’s touching your face, and it’s nothing like he thought it would be. He’s calm - so calm. Why is that? What is wrong with him?
Steve can hear your breath hitch when his fingers settle beneath your ear, his thumb resting next to the droplet of paint. He can finally feel his heart beating again, it’s getting faster now. He moves to wipe the lilac from your face, but he’s betrayed once again. The paint leaves a smudge beneath your eye and Steve is having flashbacks from the night before. 
Now you look just like his painting - his vision mixed with the perfect reality presented before him and he’s not sure, he can handle it. The world seems to spin when you take his hand from your face and look at the color on his finger. Then your eyes flick back up and his gaze locks with yours. Is this really happening? It feels so surreal.
The moment takes over Steve’s brain. It’s like he’s in one of those movies Sam likes to watch. There should be some piano queued in a second and then the main characters lean in to finally kiss in the rain. This won’t happen here, this is reality. But somehow, Steve isn’t so sure about it as soon as he thinks it.
Your eyes are still staring into his, wide, and it’s as if you’re not quite sure what’s happening either. If you feel anything like him at the moment, you must be captivated by the atmosphere that has been built around you. Steve is sure it can’t just be his big fat crush on you. It’s something new, something that just happened - the moment you took his hand in yours. 
Oh wow, you are leaning in. Panic surges up his spine. He can’t do it, not like this. This isn’t supposed to happen. You’re the princess and he’s the rat living in the peasant’s walls. But suddenly you're lips connect with his and it’s so simple, so effortless. He’s questioning everything at this point. Maybe you’re a witch and he’s a black cat. You are a little wicked, after all. And the way this feels - you and him - it’s like you belong together.
The hand that is still holding his guides him to your waist where it’s placed with promise. Steve can feel the paint transferring to the white cotton beneath his fingers but he’s too busy trying not to faint. He has done this before. He knows how to kiss, but he feels like a toddler with training wheels now that he gets to actually taste you. When your hand snakes around the back of his head, however, he regains consciousness. Your fingers press into his skin and he finally moves his lips in unison with yours. He can taste the minty aftertaste of gum on your tongue when he dares to explore it and he’s sinking into you like melted chocolate. Your breath tickles his cheek and when he pulls you a little closer to him, a surprised huff escapes your kiss. 
Then your hand slips from his neck and pushes gently against his chest. He pulls back, dazed eyes staring back at you. He’s yearning for more, whatever this was, and he’s chasing to stay in the universe you catapulted him into for a second longer. 
Your gaze travels over to the portrait again, then back to him and your thumb grazes over his sweater. “You owe me a new shirt.”
“Anything you want.” It’s a husky whisper in which his eyes stay fixated on the movement of your lips. He would say yes to about anything right now. His brain is mush. 
“It’s a date, then.” It looks like you want to nod, but you’re still staring at him with those tranced eyes - Steve can’t get enough of it.
He swallows thickly. “Okay.”
And then you just smile and leave him standing there, longing for a second more of your presence. But you have turned the corner faster than he can register and that’s when reality is setting back into his brain. It’s like he is snapped out of a vivid daydream, but he can still taste the mint on his tongue and he still has the purple smear on his finger. This was real, this actually happened. 
His eyes get caught on the painting once more. Intensely staring back at him with mockery: You’re an idiot. He knows that.
“Shut up,” he whispers to the drying paint on the canvas as he moves to pick up his brush again. But now that he has had the real thing, his drawings don’t do you justice anymore. 
I know it's a little weird, but I like it. I hope you do, too. You are welcome to share your thoughts - reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. 💙
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emmalostinwonderland · 5 months
Text
WIP Game
Thanks for the tag @fsbc-librarian !!
RULES: post the names of all the files in your WIP list, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it. And then tag as many people as you have WIPS.
I wasn’t sure if I should interpret this as only Stucky fics or just All My WIPs, so y’all are getting both lol.
Current Stucky WIP/unpublished titles include:
Friends with Benefits AU (collab w/ LouiKazooie)
Alternate canon (Erskine picks Bucky)
Current Non-Stucky WIPs
“Should History Forget Us” (Stuckony)
Conversion Camp AU (Stony)
Irish RomCom (Stony)
“A Candle in the Gathering Dark”/“Fallen, Fallen is Babylon” (DinLuke)
“Mercy Like I Never Knew” (FirstPrince)
“Got My Love to Keep Me Warm” (FirstPrince)
The Henry-Has-Autism AU (FirstPrince)
Revolutionary War Spy AU (Percabeth)
Sorry for rule-bending but I don't have enough friends in just one fandom to tag, so I'm letting this breach Stucky containment 😅 no-pressure tagging @louikazooie @turtle-steverogers @cricketnationrise @clottedcreamfudge @indomitable-love @everwitch-magiks @orchidscript @one-and-five-nines @festiveferret @one-true-houselight
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