Grain of Truth - part six
Soft!Dark Alpha Steve Rogers x Omega Reader
Summary: You're content with your quiet, peaceful life, but it suddenly becomes dangrously intense when an alpha, Steve Rogers, forces himself into it. You never believed nor seeked out the old fairytales of true mates, but Steve will make you admit there’s a grain of truth in every fairytale.
Warnings for this chapter: heat (mating cycles); a/b/o; spanking; pussy spanking; possessive behavior; controlling behavior; Dom/sub undertones; soft!dark Steve;
Author’s Note: Actual Author’s Note is at the end of the chapter, under the cut, because it contains spoilers
| Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five |
word count: 7.3k
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Cool tones of early, pre full sunrise morning greeted you again, as they had been doing for the past five days. It wasn’t usual for you to get up two hours before your alarm, but it seemed since Steve left your body refused to get the rest it deserved.
You didn’t miss him. At least you didn’t think so.
He video called you daily, in the evenings when you were all ready to snuggle up in bed and he just finished a day of work. During the day an occasional text message or two lit up your phone.
In all honesty, Steve’s absence gave you some room to breathe. In moments when your head was free to focus on things not connected to him. Because when his face popped to your mind, or his voice resounded in your ear over the phone, suddenly the breath cut shorter, constricting your chest.
A certain restlessness took over your body, too. Making it hard to fall asleep and waking you up at the godless hours of dawn.
Weirdly enough, despite limited hours of sleep, you didn’t feel tired. Energy proved to be a neverending constant in your body, enabling additional tasks you’ve been postponing for a while now.
Like going for a hike with Amita (and Bucky, who apparently liked multitasking and was both serving as your security at your overbearing alpha’s order and shamelessly flirting with your friend).
You sent Steve a few pictures from the hike - mostly gorgeous views, but also a cute photo of you that Amita took.
You couldn’t help the shy smile blooming on your face when he replied with a compliment on how beautiful you looked.
You got back home late in the evening, after refusing to be a third wheel on a potential date when Bucky and Amita wanted to go out for dinner. The plan was to take a quick shower and fall asleep right away, but the water invigorated you anew and again the sleep came much later.
In the morning your body shot up with heightened levels of restlessness, tempting you to do a thorough clean up. You managed to stop yourself from that, instead aiming your energy to make a decadent breakfast.
As active your organism was, your digestive system went hyper.
Just yesterday you ate a full bowl of chicken salad for lunch, chasing it down with three doughnuts, and two hours later you were already looking for a snack.
Having extra time on your hands, you made a small shakshuka and a whole pitcher of strawberry cocktail. Put some chicken breasts in a marinade for dinner, too.
Proud of how your breakfast turned out, you snapped a picture. You considered sending it to Steve, but he’d ask why you were awake so early in the morning. Your alpha was annoyingly nosy. And you didn’t exactly have any arguments to explain why for the past few days you were buzzing around like a pollen-high bee.
It came to you later in the day.
When your phone vibrated with a new message from Steve - a picture of him all sweaty and grinning, half-conscious trainees in the background looking about to pass out.
Your mind didn’t pay attention to the hilarity of it, combined with Steve’s comment on how he’s almost twice the age of those trainees and had better condition than they did. It was too busy greedily picking out all the details of Steve’s face and upper body visible on the photo.
His skin was slightly pinked from exertion, perspiration glistening on his temples. His hair damp from sweat; it looked carelessly combed back with his fingers alone. You noticed a drop of sweat traveling down the corded muscle of his neck, disappearing beneath the very tight, black t-shirt.
A need to chase it with your tongue made you bring the phone even closer to your face, your nose almost touching the screen.
When your eyes took in the pearly white row of teeth in Steve’s wide, pleased grin, an image of them piercing through the skin on your mating gland flashed in your mind, shaking you to the core.
Heat unfurled low in your belly, pooling in your pussy in a rush of arousal. So much of it that it trickled down, wetting your panties.
You dropped the phone as if it burned. With a loud curse on your lips, you abruptly shot up, almost knocking back the chair.
Staring down your body, you spent a long moment frozen in place, trying to assess if the sensations you were feeling were real. When the warmth pulsing didn’t cease as a figment of imagination, you cursed again.
You rushed to your handbag which was placed on a small cabinet behind your desk. You found your organizer and flipped through it, almost ripping the pages.
It couldn’t be. Simply couldn’t.
Your calendar showed clearly that it shouldn’t happen for another two and a half months. It wasn’t a stretch of a few days, not even two weeks, but over two fucking months.
Yet all the signs on heaven and earth - and in your fucking betraying body - pointed out to the one, logical assumption.
Increased energy, heightened hunger, a specific inner restlessness. And now also a rapid arousal.
Your heat was coming.
No, you couldn’t believe it. All your life your heats were regular like a German clock. Not once was it later than two days. And never was it early.
Muttering under your breath, you sprinted to the bathroom to clean yourself. You returned to your office just as quickly.
You sat behind your desk again, glaring at the phone now pushed to the far edge of it. Shifting your focus to the computer screen, you logged into the medical library base. Perhaps there were some worrying reasons why your heat was approaching so much sooner.
An hour and a hundred articles later you were more annoyed and convinced researchers should stop poking at the same topic and find new ones, because there were many findings why heats were late or nonexistent, but nearly zero about them being early.
You found merely two articles on the matter, both rather old - one from the sixties and one from the late seventies. Unfortunately, both also with little data on the subject.
However, the core of it was similar and it fit your situation (to your great dismay).
Extensive exposure to their alpha’s pheromones often triggered omega’s heat, regardless of their usual cycle.
Most couples didn’t see each other every day at the beginning of their relationship and you had Steve’s presence pushing into your space daily. Each day you spent time locked in a car with his scent engulfing you.
Not to mention the few sexual encounters that still had your knees shaking when you thought of them.
The last time you saw each other… Your hand flew to your mouth. It’s been ten days, but at times you recalled vividly the taste of Steve’s cum.
It was enough, it seems. Though you haven’t seen Steve for ten days, your body was processing everything it accumulated over the past weeks and your hormones decided it’s their time to shine.
“Okay,” you took a deep breath, “it’s just a heat. Had many, will have many more. It’s completely survi-”
Your words died on your tongue when you remembered one detail.
Steve’s alpha command was still in power.
There was no way for you to ease the ache once it started. And judging by your calculations, it would hit very soon.
Your body has been in the pre-heat preparations for at least five days now. With how quickly you reacted to a picture of Steve alone, you could expect the shit to hit the fan in a day, two at most.
Steve would still be gone when it starts.
“Son of a bitch!” You slammed both hands on the desk, causing the phone to skitter over the edge and fall down.
Aside from your very first heat, which was mild and you were too shocked and scared to follow with earlier preparations, you always got yourself off during. There were no rumors about omegas dying because they didn’t get to orgasm when they were in heat, but somehow you didn’t test that theory.
It seemed you would be now.
You paced across your office, imagining how badly you were going to hit Steve when he returned. For getting you in this whole mess, for instance. Also for being a fucking asshole who took control over your orgasms.
Then those dreams of letting your anger out on him started focusing on how hard his chest would be under your fists, how he wouldn’t even budge and only glared down at you.
He’d growl at you and grab your wrists.
Pin you to the wall.
Rip your clothes-
“Stop!” You yelled at yourself, raking your fingers through your hair and scraping your scalp.
As if you could scratch away dirty ideas and your growing desire.
You considered leaving work right away, to find yourself home the quickest as possible. If you left alone, not waiting for Natasha to pick you up, they’d raise an alarm and you’d have an angry alpha blowing up your phone.
Good, I’d let him know where he can shove his alphaness!
You needed to take a few days off to suffer through the heat anyway, but you might as well do it without raising too many suspicions.
Somehow you managed to make it to the end of your workday. When you had a chance to focus on patients and cases the hormones weren’t kicking you that bad. No filthy thoughts appeared.
So perhaps you could cheat your heat by sleeping and binging tv shows.
When Natasha dropped you off, you informed her you’d be taking a week off and that you had no plans of leaving anywhere. A little lie about having to deal with an article, which perhaps Nat didn’t buy, but she wasn’t asking questions either.
Shower was your first stop. Already on the colder side - you preferred prevention than poorly effective aid later.
With your skin cooled and muscles relaxed, you padded to the kitchen to start on the chicken you marinaded earlier. You switched the tv on, choosing a house renovation program for your background noise. You watched it while you ate, too. And three more, about gardening.
When Steve videocalled later in the evening, you nearly bit your tongue in half trying to suppress all the moans threatening to roll out upon hearing his deep, low voice.
You excused your poor engagement in conversation with exhaustion. Steve frowned in concern and for a second you feared he would call your bluff. Thankfully, he only wished you good rest.
You almost snorted aloud at that, knowing the next week is going to be absolute restlessness and suffering.
When your body started heating up, you hopped under the shower spray again. You finished your evening with a chocolate bar and book, finally going to sleep with hopes of having boring dreams.
Unfortunately, your sleep was cut short around three in the morning, when you woke up hot and wet from a dream about Steve’s mouth.
Another cold shower and some muffled cursing at your frustration, and you returned to your bed in hopes of catching some more sleep. Less depraved, perhaps.
But something in your bed was bothering you. You tossed and turned, flipped your covers on the other side hoping it feels cooler. You threw away the pillows, then reached down to put them back on the bed.
With a defeated sigh you accepted the fact the nesting phase was starting.
Which meant the peak of heat was nearing.
You spent a few hours of the morning arranging a nest on your bed - changing the sheets completely, adding a few fluffy blankets from the closet, as well all the extra pillows from the couch in the living room.
It still felt like missing some elements, annoying you so much you stomped out of your bedroom, slamming the door behind you. Your nest was awful and unacceptable and you couldn’t look at it!
Around noon you realized you haven’t eaten most of the day - the hungry phase ceasing. You knew what it meant. Once thinking of food was gone, the hunger for something else began.
While still somewhat coherent, you forced yourself to take a bottle of water and a few granola bars into your bedroom.
You rarely ate anything in your heat. You simply didn’t feel the need to, or remember to do it. You never saw it as a problem, considering your body was eating up for the few days before, storing calories and fat.
You rolled your eyes at those articles, or morning shows interviews, encouraging omegas to find a partner for their heat. Not necessarily a serious partner, or a mate, but someone who’d help them out with sexual frustration and most of all look out for their other needs - like hydration and eating.
The only time you had a partner for heat was when you were dating someone at the moment. And even then you felt more reluctance and awkwardness than relief that someone was with you for the ride.
The more hours passed, the worse it became. You couldn’t even continue dumbing yourself with tv, because everything instigated dirty ideas.
House renovations? Being fucked on every surface in the house.
Gardening? Rolling around in dirty soil while your alpha took you mercilessly.
Cooking shows? Sucking on something. Fingers, or preferably a cock. Being eaten out, too.
Everything was about sex. Worse, everything made you think of sex with Steve.
Your memory picked out every detail about him and tormented you with it. From the rough, long digits, to the heavy weight of him; not to mention his big, veiny cock you drooled for.
Even the sound of his voice; especially his purring and growling.
It turned your evening into a never ending combo of long, cold showers and whining in your nest.
You scratched at your skin, unable to sate the need bubbling beneath your skin. Your legs parted then closed and rubbed against each other, your thighs sticky with your slick.
Steve probably was having a blast, satisfied with a day of work and relaxing with a beer, or having fun with a group of trainees or whomever, while you were tortured by your own body.
A hard cramp made you cry out, your hips rocking into the air helplessly seeking relief.
Instinctively, your hand slid between your thighs, but the second you touched your swollen folds, revulsion electrocuted you back.
That damn alpha command!
With a groan, you scrambled off the bed and stomped to the living room. You picked up your phone - having left it in the other room to avoid the temptation of scrolling through the few pictures of Steve you had and deepening your suffering.
It was well after ten here. You had no mind to count what hour it was there wherever Steve was at the moment. It could be three in the fucking morning for all you cared.
You dialed his number and paced naked around while waiting for him to pick up.
When Steve greeted you, somewhat worried, you thought he sounded sleepy. Again, you didn’t care. Your hormones didn’t care. Your pussy definitely didn’t give a fuck.
“Lift that fucking alpha command right now!” You demanded, your voice rising.
You didn’t let him ask what was going on.
“Your fucking alpha-everything triggered my heat. Two months too early! And I can’t even deal with it like a normal person, because you had this dumb idea to control my orgasms!” You yelled at him, wildly gesturing with your free hand, though he couldn’t see you.
“Your merry ass is who knows where, living the hormone free happy life, meanwhile I’m one step from blowing something up because you had the urge to show me who the alpha is.”
“So take back that stupid command so that I can get myself off in peace!”
When Steve didn’t respond right away, only the echo of his gritting teeth and huffing filling your ear, you called him a fucking alpha scumbag then threw your phone across the room with a screech.
It bounced off the wall and clattered to the floor, knocking over one of the potted plants.
If not for the plant, you’d leave it there without remorse. But you couldn’t abandon your green baby. You swept the soil and returned the pot into its right place. You picked up the phone too.
There was a crack across the whole screen, but it was still working.
Unlike your ability to take care of yourself, as you have done in the past. Just because Steve Fucking Alpha Rogers had some macho, dominant need to own you whole.
“So much for the owning,” you hissed sarcastically, “since the master won’t even take care of his omega pet when she’s in need.”
Hormones powered your anger into an unreasonable monster, who wanted to claw at Steve and scrape the smugness of his stupidly handsome face.
Without thinking much (without thinking at all), you unlocked your phone and rapidly texted Steve:
Since I can’t get myself off and you won’t help me, maybe I should find someone who will. Your command said nothing about other dicks.
You switched off your phone seconds after sending the message. A safety measure in case Steve decided to call you back, but instead of apologies delivered you a new, modified version of alpha command.
Honestly, you had no intention of following through with your threat. It wouldn’t work anyway, since you couldn’t come without Steve’s presence.
Most of all, it didn’t even appeal to you.
Being with anyone who wasn’t Steve? Not only did you feel disinterested, but the thought made you recoil.
Your alpha was the one you craved. On a subconscious level you suspected even if you could touch yourself it wouldn’t bring you the relief your alpha did.
But your alpha wasn’t there. You were alone and sentenced to suffering, a voice in your head wallowed in self-pity.
You dragged your feet to the fridge, taking out a pint of ice cream from the freezer. You grabbed a spoon and went back to your bedroom. You slumped down on the floor between your bed and the wall, not wanting to stain your nest with ice cream (and also being annoyed with the nest itself being imperfect).
“I’m going to die,” you sniffled and stuffed your mouth with a spoonful of ice cream.
You woke up a few hours later to a sticky sensation creeping down your thigh.
Melted ice cream was slowly pouring from the cup you forgot to hold while in your sleep, making a mess on your body and the floor.
With a groan, you stood up and trotted to the kitchen. You tossed away the rest of the ice cream and threw the spoon into the sink. You wet some paper towels to clean yourself and took a bunch to clean the mess on your bedroom floor.
“As pitiful as me,” you bemoaned over the gooey stain. “Forgotten, melting, unfinished.”
You were about to return to your bed after cleaning up when a sudden banging on your door got you jumping up in fear.
Naked, you tiptoed over to the door, trying not to scream when the banging resounded again just as you leaned in. As you peeked through the doorhole your heart dropped to your stomach and then fluttered back in abruptly quickened pace.
You hurriedly unlocked the door and opened it, the light from the corridor casting a long shadow of his silhouette to fall over you. Knowing who is on the other side made you careless of the fact you were bare.
“Steve!” You exclaimed, eyes going wide. “What are you doing here?”
His hair was mussed. His breath slightly quickened.
He walked in, pushing you back, before you even finished the question. He kicked the door shut behind him and grabbed your arm.
“My omega’s in heat,” Steve grunted, marching straight into your living room, “where else am I supposed to be?”
You softened when you saw him at your door, but now he had you melting all the more.
He gave you no chance to thank him, or to express it meant a lot to you that he rushed to you. Steve sat down on your couch and pulled you down. Across his lap. He caught your wrists in one hand, pressing his forearm to your lower back to keep you from squirming away.
The first smack landed on your ass hard, the snap of it echoing through the quiet apartment.
You squealed, balls of your feet helplessly sliding against the floor.
“Don’t. Ever.” Steve punctuated each word with a harsh spank on your butt. “Threaten. To. Lay. With. Someone. Else.”
You hiccuped on tears gathering beneath your eyelids when suddenly Steve flipped you onto the couch on your back.
He moved your arms forward, still holding your wrists in his grip. With his knee he kept one of your bent legs to the side and hoisted the other over the back of the couch. You blinked at him with glistening eyes, Steve’s jaw clenched tight and his eyes a stormy blue of fury.
You yelped in a high pitched tone when he landed a smack over your exposed pussy.
“And. Mind.” He delivered relentless strikes. Firm, though you felt they were lighter than the ones on your ass. “Your. Fucking. Tone.”
It should hurt. It did hurt. But with your body so strained and unfulfilled, the slaps on your soaked folds were driving you closer to the edge than to crying of pain.
Steve stopped before you reached a peak.
Next thing you knew, he was pulling you up and sitting you on his lap. He wrapped an arm around you, the other hand cupping the back of your head and pushing your face into the crook of his neck.
Steve’s scent hit you immediately, your body relaxing as if a switch was flipped.
With a needy whine you snuggled closer, your arms around Steve’s neck and your breasts pressed to his chest. He held you against him as you felt the vibrations starting deep in his chest and the sound of purring caressed your ears.
A shiver rocked your body. The pleasant, harmonic rumble easing away the strain and anger, at the same time relaxing your body into a putty doll in her alpha’s hands.
“Sorry.” You mumbled against Steve’s shoulder, your breath dewy on his mating gland. “These hormones are disastrous. And you were gone.”
“I know, I know.” Steve rubbed your back. “I didn’t expect your heat to hit. If I knew, I’d reschedule the training.”
“Yeah-” you pulled back, your nose scrunched in distaste- “it shouldn’t hit for another two months. But apparently constant exposure to a cocky alpha can do that to a girl.”
“Does it?” Steve grinned and nudged your chin with his nose, following it with a peck of his soft lips. “Is there a risk of a never-ending heat? Because I plan on exposing you a lot.”
Your body tingled with excitement, arousal building anew as Steve’s hand slipped down your naked body, his mouth trailing kisses along your neck.
“Steveee-” you moaned, fingers clutching onto his leather jacket.
Your hips pushed down against his jeans clad thighs, the coarse fabric providing amazing friction.
In his rush to get you reprimanded, Steve didn’t even take off his jacket. He was fully dressed while you were completely naked. Though it wasn’t exactly an obstacle in gaining some good orgasms, you were displeased with it.
You were sliding your hands beneath the buttery-soft brown leather, with the intention of pushing it off Steve’s shoulders, when he swiftly grabbed your hips and hoisted you back on your feet.
Steve stood up as well, his bulky frame towering over you in a way that spinned your arousal higher.
“Get your things, sweetheart.” He kissed your temple and gave your sore ass a playful slap.
“What?” You looked up at him, confused. “Why?”
“I assumed you would want to make a nest with some of the items you already own.”
“Yes. They’re already here.” Your brows furrowed.
Granted, you weren’t happy with your nest at all at the moment, but it didn’t change the fact it was - as it’s always been - in your bedroom.
“We’ll take them. Anything you need. Even if it’s half of the closet.” Steve chuckled and passed you, his fingers brushing along your belly, igniting the flames already licking up your thighs.
“B-but where?” You stuttered out, for a second less coherent due to the haze of the heat creeping up on you with renewed force.
You weren’t sure if your alpha’s presence was more helpful or distracting at the moment.
“To my house.” He said it as if it was the most obvious conclusion.
It wasn’t to you. Not until this moment have you taken into consideration that spending your heat with an alpha would lead to more than just getting off.
Your initial elation at Steve’s appearance relied on hopes of being able to make yourself come in his presence, of his mouth on you, perhaps his fingers too. Somehow it slipped your mind there was another way to shatter you with multiple orgasms; and it involved alpha’s cock.
Alpha’s knot, too.
Trepidation dimmed your excitement, or maybe not as much dimmed as veiled it under fearful thoughts of not being able to take it.
Your fingers trembled. To cover it you reached for the sweater hanging on the back of a chair, folding it as you stepped to the side, your hip leaning against the dining table.
“I’m not sure it’s necessary.” You said, clutching the sweater to your midsection. “I’m good here. You can just withdraw your alpha command and I’ll be good.”
Steve tilted his head to the side, studying you closely.
Not a flicker of annoyance on his face, just a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes. His beautiful, deep blue eyes you were slowly getting lost in. You were beginning to suspect he put a spell on you with how unable you were to look away from him.
“Sweetheart, I’m not leaving my omega alone with her fingers only to deal with the heat.” He stalked towards you, a predator aiming for his trembling prey.
And fuck if his prowl didn’t turn you on. The massive bulk of him cutting off your escape route as he trapped you against the table.
Was it the primal side of the alpha-omega dynamic? Steve’s dominance influenced your omega instincts directly, both luring and scaring you a little. Adrenaline of it all was a mindblowing turn-on.
“I- I’m not ready for that step.” You blurted out, your gaze straying from Steve’s eyes to his lips, a dangerous smirk curving in the corner.
“Your body is ready.” Steve claimed, a low purr following his words.
Not soothing this time, but scraping over you in a deviant caress. Though he hasn’t touched you, warmth bloomed up your inner thighs, its incessant flow pulsating in your clit. Arousal spurted its branches all over your body, fluttering like soft leaves over your skin, grazing most sensitive areas roughly like a bark.
Your nipples pebbled, breasts swelling. More slick gathered on your folds, the blood flow increasing the throbbing that welts from Steve’s hand left behind.
Steve was right. Your body was ready. Moreover, it yearned for everything he’d ruin you with.
It was your brain that still fought it.
“But I don’t want to.” You wailed, fingers crumpling the soft fabric in your hold.
Steve was astonishingly fast, yet still soft, as he wrapped one hand around your neck. Fingers dug deeper at the sides of your throat, cutting off the flow of blood and air, causing your head to spin in daze; your mouth parting on a gasp.
“I have half a mind to push you down and lick that whining out of you. See how you say no to me when you’re creaming on my tongue.” He growled.
Was it his words, or the deep, raspy rumble, but he made your body ignite.
You dropped the sweater, your hands grabbing at Steve’s steely forearm. Beneath the pads of your fingers you felt protruding veins, the curve of them reminding you of the one along Steve’s dick.
You felt a dense drop of your slick trickling down your thigh.
Steve’s nostrils flared; no doubt he caught the scent of your arousal. A languid purr of pure male satisfaction rolling through his chest.
“But if I start now, I won’t be able to stop-” he leaned closer, sliding his free hand up your quivering belly. “And I want to take you in my bed. Thoroughly.”
He traced the underside of your breast, cupping it in his big, calloused hand.
“It’s much sturdier than the lithe frame of yours. I fear your cute, little bed breaks mid a good, rough fucking.” Steve’s dark chuckle tickled your parted lips.
“Besides, I don’t want your head worrying about neighbors hearing how you scream on my knot.”
A needy whimper escaped your lips, your hands falling to your sides submissively as Steve continued to play with your breast.
“So be a good omega, prepare all the things you need for your nest and let’s go.” His thumb and forefinger tightened on your nipple, pinching it and pulling until you arched your chest and hissed in pain.
“Understood?” He asked, still tweaking your sensitive nub.
“Yes, Steve,” you moaned, your cunt desperately clenching around nothing.
In that moment, while he displayed full, unyielding dominance, your hindbrain was ready to have you present for him right away. Be it on the floor of your apartment.
Fuck, he could be having you in some dirty alley and you’d let him.
“Good girl,” Steve kissed you softly, his fingers still around your throat, but the hold easing.
When he pulled away your body leaned forward, chasing the warmth and the scent of him. You felt a growing need to roll around in the smell of him, be covered in it head to toe. For comfort, partly perhaps, but most of all to be branded. To know for sure you were his.
“Come one, sweet brat,” Steve started walking toward your bedroom and you followed without hesitation.
Your bare feet tapped after him, a little quicker, trying to match his longer stride. You rushed after his scent, too, almost letting out a whine when it dispersed around you as he moved away.
When Steve stopped in the doorway to your bedroom you walked right into him, nose pressed into the soft leather of his jacket.
He looked at you over his shoulder then chuckled. Steve was quick to turn around, facing you, as he slipped the jacket off his shoulders. Before you knew it, he was putting it on you, guiding your arms inside the sleeves.
Steve’s jacket hung on you, sleeves reaching almost the tips of your fingers and the hem way past your ass. But the warmth and softness of it felt amazing. And Steve’s scent engulfed you so tightly.
“Better?” Steve sniggered as you rubbed your cheek on the collar.
You looked up at him, only slightly embarrassed. But you felt too comfortable right now to care, or play it differently.
“Yes,” you admitted.
“It better not end in the nest.” Steve teased, grabbing the sides of the jacket to pull you closer. “I like that jacket a lot.”
“I’ll have you know that I keep a very clean and tidy nest.” You replied almost indignantly. Yes, when in heat things got a bit sweaty, but that was something easy to clean in a washing machine.
“You had a very clean and tidy nest.” He corrected you. “Now you’ll be spending heat with your alpha. Things are going to get-” he licked over his teeth, his grip on the lapels of the jacket tightening-
Your thighs clenched, your breath shortening as you stared up at Steve, eager to read from his eyes all the dirty things he was going to do to you.
“Though,” Steve’s gaze dragged over your form, “I admit, I wouldn’t mind fucking you in my jacket.”
“Yes!” You spouted instantly, fingers twisting into the elastic fabric of Steve’s tight t-shirt.
You surprised yourself with the sudden eagerness. Completely opposite to your reluctance mere minutes ago.
That primal part of you, taking over your brain, really liked the idea of being fucked right now. Your heat was creeping up onto those simmering levels and soon you’d be reduced to begging, perhaps violence even, if your alpha didn’t give you what you needed.
If he wasn’t built like a monolith, you’d topple him and take what you wanted, without waiting for the right, safe setting your alpha was stubbornly trying to build.
“No.” Steve shook his head and peeled your hands away, taking a step back himself.
“Soon, omega. Very soon, if you finally get to the part I’ve been asking you to do for the past few minutes.”
Pouting, you stepped aside him and went for the un-made nest on your bed. You quickly scrambled it into a messy pile, so your alpha wouldn’t see the failure that your nest was before.
Surprisingly, despite the slick sticking to your thighs and the scent of alpha driving your senses into a frenzy, you spent quite a long time picking fabrics you wanted in your nest.
Some were too coarse, others not in the right color, a few too old and used. Fortunately, you’ve had enough satisfying items; like a soft, blue throw that almost matched your alpha’s eyes.
“I’ve got some blankets and sheets, too.” Steve mentioned from his spot against your dresser where he waited patiently. “Some of them may be of your liking.”
“Mhmm,” you hummed, you definitely wanted more. Your head suddenly snapped up, your eyes focusing on Steve’s torso. “Do you have any clothes in the hamper?”
“In the hamper?” Steve’s brows arched in surprise.
“Yes. I want things that smell of you, not fabric softener.” You rolled your eyes, impatiently folding a golden leaf-patterned cover.
Eyes darkening, Steve licked his lips as he slowly straightened. He stepped towards you, standing behind you.
“Sweetheart,” he purred, the tip of his tongue flicking your earlobe, “you will smell of me. All of you.”
You moaned, head tilting back to rest on Steve’s shoulder, your back arching and chest pushing forward. A shudder wrecked your body when Steve’s hands slid up your bare thighs, fingers digging into the soft innerside.
“Don’t-” you panted, “Don’t say things like that, if you’re not planning on fucking me in the next ten seconds.”
You were so sensitive all over. Not only to Steve’s touch, but his scent, his voice, the promising images he purred in your ear. It was becoming unbearable and he was only making things worse by postponing.
“So needy,” Steve chuckled.
“You really crave it, don’t you? You’re ready for it?” His fingers slipped further between your thighs.
When he found your wetness smeared on your thighs, not even that close to your pussy, but lower, he cursed, his own breath hitching.
“Fuck, you really are.” He squeezed your thigh painfully, forcing himself not to explore further because then he’d really lose all control and just bend you over.
Swiftly, Steve turned you around and zipped up the jacket on you. He loaded a small pile of your chosen items into your arms then took the hefty load of pillows and blankets remaining and carried them without a huff.
He was agitated as he watched you fumble with the keys to lock your apartment, then made you stand in the foyer as he checked the street for anyone who could even catch a whiff of your scent.
He put your belongings one the backseat then placed you on the passenger’s seat himself, clicking in your seatbelt.
You were thankful for the speed as he cut through the sleepy city, at the same time the sheer focus and quickness of his moves as he changed gears and lanes made you hornier.
Another skill set your hindbrain appreciated as highly valuable in a mate.
The urge to run your fingers along Steve’s forearm as it flexed when he changed gears was growing and itching underneath your skin. You could simply squeeze his thigh, feel his dick twitch beneath your palm, as you slipped your own fingers between your legs.
Never before have you wondered how much truth lies in the tales of instincts and the more animalistic side of your natures, always crossing them out as fake manipulation used to gain more control.
When interacting with betas you didn’t experience any of the reactions you developed since meeting Steve. It seemed that the neutral dynamic with betas was actually confirming the rules, not contradicting them.
When Steve drove through the suburbs you almost laughed at the image of a big, bad alpha living in a cute little house with a white picket fence. But Steve drove past it.
You were at the edges of the city, where sparse housing disappeared between trees. It was an older area, once upon a time a core of a settlement which over the centuries grew further away from the nearby lake and transformed into the city it was today.
You didn’t get to study the houses you passed; due to Steve’s speed and it being the middle of the night, but also because they were all further from the main road and hidden behind trees.
You perked up when Steve took a turn, driving off the street onto one of the dirt roads. Soon the car was engulfed in greenery, now nearly black in the hour before dawn. You drove a little uphill, until the land turned more flat again. Dirt road transforming into gravel.
Then you saw the iron gates which opened automatically as you approached. Lights flashed up over the parking area when you pulled in, the gates closing behind you. There were round solar lamps in the grass around the driveway and along the path to the house.
It was an old type of house, with a brick exterior. But big from what you assessed at first glance.
Steve scooped all your nesting belongings from the backseat, this time not even giving you anything to carry, then tilted his head at you in indication to follow him.
In your hastily slipped on flip-flops, you padded behind Steve; your eyes roaming over his wide back and tapered waist. Your hindbrain was throwing a salsa party to celebrate how strong and providing your alpha was.
You followed him inside, your body melting into the comfort of warmth sealed with Steve’s scent that surrounded you. Steve led you up the stairs and then turned left, walking into a big bedroom.
You stopped dead in your tracks when it hit you that it’s his bedroom.
Steve’s scent was more intense here, though not as suffocating as it was in his car (the space here wider, open windows letting in fresh air).
“Here,” Steve dropped the pile of fabrics and pillows onto the bed. “There are blankets and sheets in a closet in the hall right outside the bedroom. Take anything you wish.”
He stepped towards you and kissed the top of your head, then chuckled.
“And the hamper is in the bathroom, over there.” He pointed toward the open door of the ensuite bathroom on the right. “I’ll be right back.”
A little shocked, you watched Steve run down the stairs before returning your gaze to the huge bed. Bigger than any you had a chance to sleep on. You gulped, realizing everything about Steve was bigger than you’re used to.
I want to take you in my bed. Thoroughly. Steve’s voice resounded in your head as you neared the solid wooden bedframe.
Suddenly shy at the thought of what will be happening in that bed very soon, you started picking out items from your pile. All the while eyeing the bed and assessing its traits. The headboard was made of soft leather cushions, fabric and color similar to Steve’s jacket if a tone darker. The sheets were a simple gray color, pillows as well, with a dark, navy blue throw peeking out from beneath your belongings.
You liked them. When you touched them they felt soft and cool. And, most of all, they held Steve’s scent.
In an instant, you decided to build your nest around them. Quickly, you tossed away items from your pile which you considered not matching the base for your nest. Not only in colors, but textures.
Mindlessly, you walked to the closet outside, picking four blankets in earth colors. You twisted them, forming wide ropes which you weaved around. Your light, soft sheets and throws filled the middle. You rearranged the pillows a few times, until you were finally happy. Steve’s navy cover was thrown over the edge of the nest, flowing across the bed and down to the floor.
You were stuffing Steve’s t-shirts between layers of your nest when Steve returned. Carrying a tray loaded with water bottles, cut fruit and lots of bars in colorful wrappings. Candy bars or energy ones, you weren’t sure.
He placed them on a table next to a dark gray wingback armchair in the nook by the balcony door. Then he took a bottle and a handful of bars and set them on the bedside table. It surprised you that he thought of something you didn’t even consider.
Steve placed his hand on the back of your neck, thumb rubbing up and down as he studied the nest you made. Your toes curled - both at his caress and from nervousness. You maimed your bottom lip with your teeth as you awaited his judgment.
“Looks impressive,” Steve whistled, combing his fingers through your hair. “I appreciate you made it big enough that I can fit inside with you.”
“Seemed unreasonable not to use the wide space of your bed.” You tried to shrug it off nonchalantly, but you felt that spark of elation at Steve’s praise.
“My omega, so very practical.” Steve hummed, facing you fully.
His gaze swept over you. Dark with dirty promise which your body trembled in anticipation for.
Steve cupped the back of your head, with his other hand gripping the collar of his jacket on you. He tugged you upwards onto your tiptoes at the same time that he bent down. He flicked your bottom lip with his tongue, prompting you to part your lips, then slipped the tip inside as he pressed his mouth against yours.
It was a sensual kiss. Unrushed, but branding with deep hunger.
Though Steve’s lips were soft, you felt your own much weaker against his. Helplessly yielding to his demand and following his lead. He made your whole body ready to do the same.
A needy whimper escaped your mouth when Steve pulled away. With his hand still clenched on the jacket, he dragged the zipper down with the other. Then slowly peeled it off of you. He didn’t let it fall to the floor, instead folding it neatly.
To your dismay, Steve took a step aside then walked past you. He draped the jacket over the back of the gray wingback armchair.
You blinked in surprise when he picked the piece of furniture and moved it in front of the bed.
Without a word, he returned to you; his eyes glinting dangerously as he placed his hands on your hips. In one swift move he picked you up and dropped you in the middle of the nest. But didn’t follow you inside.
Steve took a seat in the armchair, instead. Hooking one ankle over his knee and leaning back comfortably.
“Now,” he said in that low, thick voice you wanted to drink in like the richest wine- “Show me how those little fingers of yours satisfy you through your heat.”
Author’s Note: Next chapter starts exactly at the point we end here. So yes, we’re getting all the in-heat sex. Probably no plot, only smut.
@abcdestinyyyy, @alessandraavengers, @alexakeyloveloki, @another-tblr-fangirl, @broadwaybabe18, @buckandcap, @dancer3205, @demjinwraith, @doozywoozy, @fangirl-and-medstudent-help, @floral-recs, @harmonbrooke, @holl2712, @internallydeceased, @interniteo, @justjulie1105, @kunaikunari, @lendeluxe, @lilbitt, @littlemarvelmenfan, @l0st-in-reality, @lowkeysebby, @lovedetlost, @maggiecc, @mansaaay, @phildunphyisadilf, @pono-pura-vida, @rosemirrors, @single-starling, @vibesrs
summary: Officer Rogers pulls you over for speeding
pairing: police officer!steve rogers x reader
(side ransom drysdale x reader)
rating: explicit 18+ (broh i stg if you’re under 18 imma block u -.-)
warnings: SMUT, PIV sex with clothes on, public sex, misuse of power? (idk wtf), creampie (big emphasis on this), dirty talk, poly relatioship lowkey, second degree cuckhold lmao
word count: 2.3k
A/N: had this idea when I was going to meet a fwb only to be outrageously disappointed by the outcome (the fwb meet up not the fic lmaoo). needless to say, I needed this fic. also i absolutely did not read what I wrote cuz im crazy like that. thank you. amen.
The wind rushes in from either side of your car, the sound almost deafening against the pounding music booming through your speakers. Your foot pushes down on the gas, unaware–and frankly, uncaring–of the speed you’re driving, just wanting to get to your destination as soon as possible.
You got a text that your best-friend-with-benefits just got home from a business trip and wants a welcome home gift. You hadn’t seen him for a couple of weeks, so you were understandably excited to oblige to his requests.
It’s an unusually cool night, so the dark streets, lit only by sparsely placed overhead lights, are graced with thick clouds of fog making it hard to see far ahead of yourself.
As you zoomed past an empty intersection, you hear the heart-stopping noise of a siren followed by the dull bloom of flashing blue and red lighting up the interior of your car through the back window. Fuck, you look down at your speedometer, wait, you’re only sixty-five in a fifty-five zone. Why are they stopping you?
You carefully veer off the road and stop in front of a forest of trees, making haste to yank out your license from your wallet. This certainly isn’t how you expected tonight to go.
If there’s one thing you hate, it’s confrontations with police. Even when you haven’t done anything wrong, they scare the fuck out of you.
The officer slowly parked behind you and took his sweet time pulling himself out of his car. Based on the way he swaggered over to your window, thumb hanging from his equipment buckle, he was cocky and knew who held the power in their situation.
You wait in your seat patiently, trying to keep your body from shaking in anticipation. The tiny pink skirt you’re wearing rides up your thighs, making your nervous hands pinch and pull them down, stretching out the fabric. You weren’t expecting to have to interact with anyone except Ransom tonight, least of all a police officer.
Your knee bounces when he knocks on the side of the door, announcing his arrival. You look up and have to crane your neck to meet the officer’s deep steel eyes. He gazed back down at your trembling figure, tongue sticking out to wet his lips.
“Good evening, ma’am, license and registration, please.”
“Here, sir.” You keep your voice short and sweet, hoping to get through this without a scratch. You hand him your card and paper, watching as he takes a good while looking over them. You see the name ‘Rogers’ etched onto a metal button placed on top of a navy blue pocket. He stops his scanning and looks up at you with an unsatisfied look on his face.
“Do you realize how fast you were driving tonight?” His head is tilted to the side as he asks the question. He looks down at you with an air of condescension, eyes taking note of your outfit. “Have something important to get to?”
“Just visiting a friend, sir.” You squeak out a response, feeling the weight of his stare. His eyebrow raises at your answer.
“Hm…I’m going to need you to step out of the vehicle.” Your eyes widen, hands shaking as you unbuckle yourself from the seat. Your heart is beating out of your chest as you slowly step out of the car. Officer Rogers casually holds the door open with an arm, barely giving you any room to stand up in front of him.
“Um…what seems to be the pr-” Before you knew what was happening, he forcibly turns you around and pushes the front of your body to the dewy coolness of your car. A gasp is pushed out of you from the aggression of his actions.
You squeak out a whine as your arms are pulled behind you and held by his hand wrapped around both wrists. He tsks at your pathetic sounds of pain.
“You don’t ask the questions here, sweetheart.” You can feel his warm breath against your neck as he speaks roughly into your skin. “Had a rough day and you’re gonna help me feel better. How does that sound, princess?” You give him a stuttered nod, barely able to move your body from the way he pushes into you.
His rough hand glides down your back, tracing each ridge of your spine before squeezing your ass through the thin cloth of your skirts. His close proximity against you fills your mind with his cologne and a faint taste of cigarettes. “You going to see your little boyfriend in this get-up?”
“He’s not my boyfriend-”
“Ah…so you spread your legs for all your friends?” Your eyebrows furrow at his degrading words. You push back against his body, trying to escape his hold but he doesn’t even flinch at your actions. He teases the end of your skirt then changes his mind and pushes both of your wrists to either side of your head against the window. Your breath fogs up the glass, blurring the only reflection of him you could see.
“I mean, you’re letting me do all this to you. Must really be a cock hungry slut, huh?” He leans his hips against you and pushes your legs apart using a booted foot, letting you feel his hardness against your soft body. You melt against him and he becomes the only thing holding you up.
“What would he think if you showed up with a full pussy, limping all the way to his doorstep?” He cooed into your sweat-stuck neck, nibbling at the sensitive skin until he sees purple.
Your back is forced to arch away from him, shoving your hips into his. He flips over the back of your skirt and admires the ruined white panties that barely cover your skin. You’d look so innocent if you weren’t panting for him. He gives you a small pinch, watching as your body jumps at the feeling.
You feel two warm fingers press against your cunt and slide up to your clit. The cloth moistens from your leaking slick and you feel Officer Roger’s hum vibrate against you at the feeling. “I’d love to continue this but I need your hot cunt around me.” You hear the sound of ruffling fabric and jingling of metal cuffs behind you.
Hot skin presses against your thighs and he prods at your clothes center insistently. Your hair is swept to your shoulder to expose your neck more openly for him. You feel him tug your panties down and let them hang right over your knees, just enough to situate himself at your entrance.
“Baby is so creamy for me…” You let out wordless sounds, desperate to get filled as he uses his head to spread your essence and watches it drip down your leg.
You feel the indescribable pressure of him stretching you open. He pushes in slowly, forcing you to feel every ridge and vein as he goes. You chest breathes out a moan as you push back against him, frustrated by the slowness of his pace, just wanting him deeper inside of you.
He snaps his hips in quick spurts in response to your greedy behavior, not stopping even as your breathes turn into sharp gasps. “Not very patient are we?” He pushes your face into the window, smashing your flushed cheek against the cooled glass. You hear the squelching of your wetness magnified with the sound of bare skin slapping against each other. It makes you delirious.
Your grip on the car starts to slip as your palms sweat from the intensity of his ministrations. The ghostly streaks run down the glass and disappear as quick as they arrive
He spots your falling form and let’s your wrists go to turn you around to face him. His hands raise to the sides of your face and he pulls you in for a kiss and you almost fall from the intensity of it. His tongue caresses yours, drinking you in as your body squirms against his. You promptly kick off your panties before you’re picked up by the hips and forced to wrap your legs around him for support.
Your back is slammed back onto the metal behind you, a population of goosebumps explodes from the sudden temperature change against your bare skin. He quickly returns himself into your warmth, holding you up like you weigh nothing.
His rhythmic grunts catch everytime he bottoms out into you, stabbing your spot over and over again. His ruthless focus on hitting the bundle of nerves inside of you provokes hot tears down your face.
Rogers watches the stream of dark mascara travel down your chin and into the deep cleavage of your hidden black lace push up. He loves it when you cry. You lean your head back, taking in the dark starry sky and letting out broken moans.
“You gonna let me fill you up, honey?” You look up at him with glassy eyes, nodding frantically. Your arms hold on to him tighter as his pace speeds up, grabbing you to trust yourself back onto him. As your bodies are pushed closer together, your clit slides against him and you see white at the combined pleasure. You clench around him, so close to your release that you can’t barely decipher where you are.
He grunts against the feeling of your tightness, struggling to continue his actions. You feel him stutter and throb inside of you. “Fuck princess, you’re so tight for me.” Your chest rises rapidly as white pleasure takes over each of your limbs and blanks out your mind. Your warmth flutters around him and he lurches forward at the feeling, strokes becoming slow yet firm.
You feel his hot cum gush inside of you before you heard his strangled groan. He fills you to the brim, producing a handful of small thrusts until he’s forced to lean his weight against you.
You hear his hum as he pulls out of you, setting you down to stand with your back to the car. Your legs are shaky as they recalibrate to support your weight again. You watch as he swiftly pulls up his pants and relatches his belt of assorted tools onto his figure. He spots your white underwear on the floor and crouches down to scoop them up.
“You won’t need these tonight.” He shoves them in his front right pocket and gives you a smug look, admiring your disheveled form. Your cheeks are flushed and stained from your pleasure filled tears. You bite your lip waiting for his next move.
“Thanks for the help, baby. You just made my day a whole lot better...You can get back into the car now” He didn’t make a motion to move out of the way, so you scooted yourself around him, and got back in, still in a daze from what just happened.
You squeeze your knees closed, hoping you wouldn’t leave a stain on the carseat. Officer Rogers closes the door for you and uses his arm to lean against it.
“Be a good girl and don’t speed on the way, okay, honey?”
“Yes, sir.” You beam a smile at him and start your car. He pats the car before turning to walk back to his, still sporting the arrogant walk he came up to you with.
You pull up to Ransom’s ridiculously windowed house, quickly taking a look at your appearance in the car mirror. You were taken a back at the make up running down your face and the fluffy state of your hair. Your fingers run through your hair and wipe under you eyes. That would have to do for now, you’re already late.
As soon as you open your car door, Ransom is waiting in front to the house, a lit cigarette burning from his sweater clad hand. He sends you an irritated look, obviously waiting for your arrival longer than he’d like to. You send him a sheepish smile, walking with your legs slightly closer together than usually to keep everything inside of you.
“And where have you been?” He takes a puff from the cigarette and lets it blow out of his nose as his eyebrow raises in question.
“I got pulled over on the way here…” You mumble out, knowing he doesn’t really care for the answer.
“Oh yeah?” He flicks the cigarette to the ground and it lands right next to your shoe. You put it out for him as he wanders closer to you, taking in your puffy pink lips. “He punish you again?” You give him a small guilty nod.
He walks inside the house, expecting you to follow him. You see him settled on one of his crazy expensive armchairs. He beckons you closer with a finger and pats his lap. He always knows how to make you feel like one of his little pets. Small and insignificant.
You follow his wordless instructions, draping your body over his legs to let him have a good view up your skirt. He sighs as he places his hands on you, missing the softness of your body.
“Let’s see the damage he left this time…” He drags a warm hand up your thigh and reveals the present the Steve left for him. You were a mess down there, your reddened cheeks contrast nicely with the splattered white cum in and around your cunt. “What was it this time? A broken tail light, loud music?” You softly shake your head.
“Speeding.” He hums in acknowledgement, spreading your combined slick around and pushing back inside of you. You can’t help but moan at the rough way he handles you.
“He always pulls this shit when he knows I’m back. Can’t let me have you to myself.” Ransom grumbles in frustration, eyes not leaving you weeping pussy. “Think you can go again anyway, baby?” A grin pulls at your lips and you nod with new found energy.
“Yes sir, anything for you.”
Tony, trying to tell a joke: knock knock
Y/N: come in.
Tony: you know what you little shit
Steve, in the kitchen: [trying so hard not to laugh]
JUNE FIC RECS! — @dracosluvbot's fic recs
what i’ve been reading and obsessing with over the month of june
reminder: this is extremely important and i take this very seriously out of respect for the community. please do remember to read the rules for the respective blogs before interacting with or reading them!
F: fluff A: angst S: smut
𖥻 - series
CHRIS EVANS/ STEVE ROGERS
S: i hate you more by @americasass91
haters to lovers, there was only one bed. smut ensues.
F: always you by @fangirlovestuff
it’s always been you, steve, and bucky. when bucky gets married, the dynamic between you and your other best friend shift.
F + A: fixing the broken by @maemelany 𖥻
in which you and chris decide if your marriage is worth any saving.
F + A: if only you knew by @kayteewritessteve 𖥻
steve rogers ripped your heart to absolute shreds. 7 years later, you’re back in town for bucky and natasha’s wedding. is there room for second chances?
A: all love by @dameronology
rest easy, captain rogers
F: the super seller patch by @sweetsbfreex
trust in that steve rogers’ daughter strives in just about anything she does. not without a little help from her father, of course.
S: birthday sneak by @rocketrhap3000
happy birthday, chris evans.
F: your comfort by @astranva
don’t touch the baby bump
A + F: futile by @rocketrhap3000 𖥻
chris evans, the boy next door.
F: lover by @lanadelreyscokewhor3
the girl in steve’s story has always been you
F + A: slow like honey by @heli0s-writes 𖥻
sarah rogers is utterly in love with her teacher, and apparently, her father too.
F: anything she says by @angrythingstarlight
chris would do just about anything for his girl
F: lily by @the-bau-quinjet
steve rogers has kept a lily shaped secret from the rest of the avengers
F + A: the boston brute by @time-for-a-lullaby 𖥻
chris evans, star player for the boston bruins. does his reputation precede him?
SEBASTIAN STAN/ BUCKY BARNES
F: a faux pair by @sweetsbfreex
alpine and you have a deep inner hatred for one another
S: grapes and wet dreams by @001sgf
exactly what the title says.
F: he’s just a kid by @youlightmeupfinn
grant rogers is ever the charmer and bucky can’t help but feel just a wee bit jealous
F + A: silver by @youlightmeupfinn 𖥻
bucky’s a rockstar and you’re just being strung along for the ride
F + A: can we talk? by @touchstarvedirl
the consequences of living in the digital age where reporters would do anything for a cover story
F: to the moon and back by @nexusnyx
bucky barnes learned that he is indeed deserving of a family
F + A: as it was by @heli0s-writes 𖥻
you know, it’s not the same as it was
F + A: a little death by @crescentbucky 𖥻
bucky loves natasha, natasha loves steve, but you also love steve, but steve loves natasha. but wait, bucky loves you?
F: to be touched by @corpsekiller
bucky barnes is a well-trained stealthy soldier and you can’t help but like feel he’s using those abilities to avoid you
A: heartless by @retromafia
tommy shelby lives with a damning secret that he keeps buried deep within his soul
F: the layers of thomas shelby by @theonewiththefanfics 𖥻
thomas shelby on surface level is a rugged gangster with a gaze that could kill but beneath all that lies a loving man
S: a little leeway and a lot of restraint by @constillatedchaos
tommy shelby and his pretty little thing
A: it’s quiet uptown by @wouldpollyapprove 𖥻
thomas shelby cannot simply pick and choose who he wants to be with
S + A: forgotten dinner by @pherelesytsia
tommy’s forgotten about dinner but that’s the least of your worries
F + A: all for them by @creme-bruhlee
everything that thomas shelby does is for his family
F + A: tired, tired sea by @peakyswift
tommy shelby’s eyes are blue like the ocean.
F + A: apology by @reidrco
tommy shelby doesn’t do apologies
S: 110 degrees by @sunshinexhotchner
the weather isn’t the only thing that’s hot
F + A: our past life by @hotchnerxo 𖥻
you cannot start afresh, but you can start again.
S: well respected by @hotchs-bitch 𖥻
the tales of aaron hotchner and his dutiful girlfriend
F + A: the long haul by @shmaptainhotchner 𖥻
the proposal, but you’re a bau agent and aaron hotchner’s the groom
F + A: intelligence & issues by @honeypiehotchner 𖥻
and all the pieces fall, right into place
F: these small hours by @clints-lucky-arrow
zemo being a dad
F + A: blame by @shmaptainhotchner
seven years ago, your family fell apart. zemo comes back after all this while and there is a sliver of hope that he can make everything feel better
A: the loyalty complexity by @dameronology
where do your loyalties lie?
F: bring the corsets and the cinches by @corpsekiller
you give zemo his personal runway show
hey!! i hope post-exam life is treating u good! i wanted to request a steve x touch starved reader? maybe one day they go out with friends and he keeps an arm around her waist or rubs the small of her back etc and she wants to cry bc no one has ever been so shameless in their affection for her? and steve is a sweetheart and thinks shes upset but then she explains and it’s real fluffy? i just miss ur steve soooo much!
if not, that’s okay!!! ty for everything u write!!! 🤍🤍🤍
rosa!! how lovely to see you !! <3 post-exam life is incredible, and this request is perhaps the cutest one ever my goodness, 1k, idk if this is what you meant by 'go out' but!!
With wings flapping pointlessly and paths interlocking like excited bumper cars, the penguins bumble about their enclosure. A few plop into the water, and you hold on to the rail with both hands. Entranced by the flightless birds, you don’t anticipate your boyfriend approaching behind you. His palms land on the railing outside of each of yours, his chest to your back, with notes of leather and sandalwood surrounding you.
A kiss to the spot behind your ear. You’re startled, but you find yourself leaning into his hold.
“Where are the others?” His breath ghosts the side of your neck, a slight tickle that you brush away with your shoulder.
You look across the enclosure and see Bucky and Sam on the other side — Bucky’s face is scrunched in a fiery passion as he motions emphatically to a penguin with the map of the zoo crinkled in his grasp. Sam doesn’t look convinced by his words, shaking his head and pointing to another penguin.
“Over there, look,” you say, amused by their antics. Steve hums, equally fascinated, vibrations seeming to pass through your body as well as his.
He moves his hands from the rails to around your stomach, resting his chin on your shoulder. You don’t think you’ll get used to the safety you find in his arms, nor do you think you’ll find it anywhere else.
“Whaddya say we go and see what the problem is?” He says, voice only loud enough for you to hear. You nod enthusiastically, curious to know why Bucky has now unravelled the map, the paper rustling in the light breeze.
The moment he moves away you miss him. A deep ache in your chest ignites, a yearning for his comforting touch. You follow him as he starts on the convoluted path to the opposite side of the enclosure, desperate to feel his hand in yours but not being able to do it yourself. Taking a quick deep inhale, you speed up in response to Steve’s glance over his shoulder, beckoning you closer to him.
With your eyes on your feet, you synchronise your steps with his, an intangible connection with him that feels comforting. But then he drifts closer to you, bumping your shoulder with his before snaking his arm around your waist and pressing a kiss to your temple. His hold is firm, as if he wishes he could attach you to his hip. You swallow thickly, grateful for his initiative, yet also almost overwhelmed by his open affection.
Soon, the otter enclosure appears on the left, a pair of them floating downstream with interlocked hands.
His grip doesn’t falter as you slow down to admire them. In fact, his fingers begin to draw swirls over the fabric of your clothes. You can’t get away with watching him focus on the little animals, because he meets your eyes after a few seconds and squeezes you a little tighter, the corners of his eyes crinkling.
“C’mon,” he says, and you continue your walk.
He loosens his grip, then, shifting his hand to the small of your back. Warmth radiates from his hand, into your skin. He looks down.
“Hold on,” he says, a gentle tug on your wrist to guide you to the side. He sinks to one knee and reaches out to your unravelled shoelace, carefully tightening the string with deft fingers threading the bow.
When he’s done, he trails his hand to your ankle, thumb massaging the bone. He looks up at you, big adoring blue eyes steeped in happiness, accompanied by a saccharine smile that quickly morphs into one of concern when he notices the new shimmer in your eyes. It’s one that threatens to spill over your waterline and down your cheeks as your heart aches.
“Is it too tight? I can do it again,” he says quickly.
“No, ‘course not.” You sniff, squeezing your eyes shut and shaking your head. When the tears trickle down your cheeks, Steve’s up in a moment. His thumbs wipe away your tears before they reach the corners of your mouth.
“Oh, sweetheart. What is it?” You look away, at the information panel for the penguins, sniffing again. With a gentle hand on your jaw, he makes you look at him, the crease between his eyebrows deepening by the second. “Did I upset you? Did someone here upset you?” He throws a glance over each shoulder as if checking for danger, his Captain mode kicking in. You shake your head and softly clear your throat.
“You’re… too nice to me.”
Steve’s confused. “Too nice to you?”
“Yeah. Well, no. ‘S just—“ You sniff again. “You give me so many hugs and stuff, even in public, and I love it, but nobody’s ever done that for me before… you never expect anything back, even though I want to, and I don’t know if I deserve it—“ Steve puts his index finger to your lips to stop your speech, before replacing it with his lips.
“What are you talking about?” He pulls you in for a hug. Tight, warm and safe. “Sweetheart, I do those things because I care about you. And I want you to know that, you need to know that. Forget about ‘deserving’, anything.” He pulls away to study your expression, for any sign of rejection or unhappiness.
He swipes away another tear and tenderly kisses your forehead. You nod, feeling a knot unwind in your chest. “If you want a hug, you don’t need to ask. It’s not annoying, you could hold my hand all day and I wouldn’t get tired of it.” You hum in acknowledgement, taking his hand and running a thumb up and down his knuckles, tinted red from yesterday’s training.
“Even in meetings?” He nods.
“While cooking dinner?” He nods again. “Wow.”
“Maybe I’ll even give you ‘free hug’ coupons on your next birthday,” he says, spotting the back of Bucky’s head.
“‘S that a promise?” Steve holds up his hand, pinky finger extended. You link your pinky with his and beam at him.
steve rogers x gn!reader (fluff)
summary: you and steve try rotary sushi for the first time.
a/n: bestest boy steve rogers i just wanna take him everywhere but especially to a fun cute lil restaurant like this 🥺💕💕
“whoa, whoa, big boy.”
a small plate of maki occupies each of his hands, the latest addition to the wide assortment he's been selecting. "what?" a juvenile sort of defeat weighs on his broad shoulders, even while he grabs a third plate. “i’m hungry.”
you squint at the information cards strolling past on the illuminated conveyor belt, each one listing the ingredients of its corresponding parade of sushi. you frown at steve’s choices. they’re gorgeous—bright red and orange. delicious to you, but deadly to him. “that’s too spicy for you.”
steve shrugs, splitting his chopsticks and flicking away the plastic cloches. he dunks a piece into his dish of soy sauce, which is cloudy from the dab of wasabi he mashed in earlier.
he attempts something like a pleased hum, but it devolves sharply into a coughing fit. you burst out laughing and nudge his glass of water. “don’t eat it if you don’t like it," you whine.
“no, i do,” he wheezes, fumbling for the straw. "i've been doing better, with the spicy stuff."
you fan his blushing face with the menu. as your giggling fades, you hope to compliment him—for trying unfamiliar foods lately, venturing to new restaurants with you, and even using chopsticks—but then he asks, his eyes shimmering: “haven't i?”
you're taken aback by the question. he sheepishly pokes a plate across the table while you fold your arms, deep in thought. you still haven't eaten anything. “steve.”
he fidgets in his seat.
“you know you don’t have to do that for me.” beneath the table, you hook your sneaker behind his ankle, tugging his leg and loosening him up. “all the self-sacrificing you do."
there’s no reason for it. the doors he opens, the dinners he pays for, the nights he spends away from you. you can count on your fingers how many hours a week steve actually focuses on himself, and each one is spent catching up on sleep.
“i like spicy food," he insists.
“c'mon, rogers,” you admonish fondly. "your spice tolerance is non-existent." you smile. "you're weak, and you wouldn't survive the winter.”
stubbornness draws a hard line across his brow. “i'm not doing it to be self-sacrificing.”
“oh, really, captain america?” he acts like it's in his job description.
a twitch in the corner of his lips would probably spread into a grin if you kicked his shin right now. “i do it to make you laugh."
you lift a plate of non-threatening nigiri off the procession, ignoring the cute look steve shoots you through his long lashes. “that’s still self-sacrificing, dumbass.”
— — —
steve’s bday bash 2022
— — —
Rude awakening (6)
Summary: Steve is back to square one.
Pairing: Alpha (Mobster) Steve Rogers x Omega!Reader
Warnings: angst, language, a/b/o, remorse, aggressive omega, the reader likes to slap assholes, true mates, scenting, love-struck Steve, there is a hint of fluff, pining sickness, almost feral alpha, depressive alpha (due to pining sickness), hopelessness, mentions of pups
<< Part 5
Divider by @firefly-graphics
“Good morning, doll,” Steve singsongs. He stands in front of your door, smiling like he just won the lottery. “I got you breakfast. Best pancakes in Brooklyn and tea for you.”
“Pancakes, huh,” you snatch the bag out of his hands and slam the door in his face. “Thanks for the breakfast.”
“Y/N, why do you always act like this? I want to woo you, doll,” he knocks at your door again. “Omega, come on. Why can’t you be a little nicer to me? I’m trying here. I bared my neck to you.”
“Can you not leave me alone, Rogers,” you open the door to glare at Steve. “Now go back home. I got three appointments this morning and got no time to talk to you. People actually got to find a job to make money, you know.”
“Doll, just admit that I’m not the worst. It’s not a bad thing if you like a man like me,” he carefully approaches you. “I know you are used to having control over your life and taking care of yourself. I only want to take care of you and be a good alpha. I swear, I’m not some knothead wanting to chain you up, and turn you into an obedient omega only taking knot and having my pups.”
“Aw, and I was hoping you want to put as many pups as possible in my womb,” you coo. “You know, that’s all I dreamed about since I met you,” he huffs at your words. “All omegas only want to submit to a big and bulky alpha.”
He cups the back of your neck, taking you by surprise as his lips press against yours. “You drive me crazy, doll. I gave you everything, and even showed weakness in front of you but you give nothing in return. I know you feel it too, and that you like me.”
“No, I only like a man who’s not hiding a gun under his jacket. I want a guy who’ll not push me aside the moment his ex-girlfriend shows up. I did my homework too, Rogers,” he sneers as you refuse to call him Steve once again. “You left two other girlfriends for that woman. I won’t let you break my heart.”
“Peggy? This is about my ex-girlfriend?” Steve releases a shuddery breath. “Thank fuck,” he cradles your face in his hands to look you deep in the eyes. “Baby doll, she’s in the past. If you take a chance on me, you’ll be my future.” He kisses you again, slow and careful. “I’ll leave you alone now, omega. If you want to see me, you know where to find me…”
“Rogers, I—” he pulls away, making you whine as he turns to leave.
It takes anything in Steve to not turn around and look at you one last time. He clutches his hands to his side and walks along the hallways, hoping you will miss him when he stays away for a few weeks.
“You just left her there?” Bucky tries to calm his nerves. For weeks he tried to get you and Steve together only for his friend to give up. “You can’t just give up, Steve.”
“I did not give up, Buck. She needs to get the chance to miss me and my attention. Nothing worked, my friend. I bared my neck and believed she will allow me to—” shaking his head Steve sighs deeply. “Y/N will not let me in. She’s stubborn and I love that about her, but sometimes you must admit your defeat and move on.”
“So, you did give up,” Bucky concludes. “Steve, you are head over heels for that omega. Why do you want to give up now? She touched you and sniffed at your neck. That’s progress.”
“I thought so too, Buck. It’s just, she backed off again,” the blonde shrugs. “I’m not sure if she will ever let me in at all. It’s tiring. I tried anything. I know she’s a wild and feisty omega, but this is her being unreasonable, my friend.”
“Love is hard work.”
“She won’t let me love her, Bucky. Y/N wants to live her life on her own without an alpha. Maybe she’s right,” Steve hates to admit his alpha is slowly giving up on his dream to mate and claim you, “I’m not a good man. I guess her omega can feel it.”
“He won’t leave his bedroom, Nat,” Bucky stands in front of Steve’s bedroom, shaking his head. “He gave her time and space, but Y/N didn’t cave in. I tried to call her and ask her to come around. Natasha, I’m afraid Steve is close to going feral.”
“It’s pining sickness, Barnes,” Natasha brushes past her partner to enter Steve’s bedroom. “Jesus, Rogers, get a hold of yourself. Get out of the fucking bed. And what’s that dirty rug in your hands.”
“Out—” Steve snarls in the female alpha’s direction. He cradles the pair of panties he stole from you in his hands to press them to his nose. “I don’t want to see anyone.”
“You should be ashamed of yourself, alpha. An omega rejects you, and this is how you try to cope? Hell, go out there and find someone else.”
“I don’t want someone else, Romanoff,” he growls. “Can you all not leave me alone? I need a few days off. Bucky can take care of the upcoming deal.”
“That girl has your balls in a tight grip, huh,” Natasha muses. She watches Steve turn around to nuzzle his nose in your panties. “It’s not the end of the world, you know. Omegas are soft and vulnerable little creatures. They want attention or don’t want it at all. It’s all so confusing. Maybe you should go for a nice beta, or female alpha, or are you more into a male alpha.”
“Fuck’s sake, leave me alone,” Natasha takes a step back at the sound of Steve’s voice. His scent got thicker and she’s not in the mood to get her throat ripped out by a feral alpha.
“I’ll leave you to��well, whatever you are doing there with her dirty panties…”
“Open the door, Y/N. Here’s Bucky. I need your help with Steve. He won’t leave his bedroom. Y/N, he sniffs at your panties all the time. He doesn’t eat or sleep. All he does is whine and whimper your name. You caused this, so you’ll help me.”
“This is none of my business,” you growl behind your closed door. “I didn’t ask for his attention. He ran me over and since then, your fine friend won’t leave me alone.”
“Fine. It’s not your problem if Steve dies from pining sickens or goes feral only as you acted like a stubborn child. I was there when he ran you over. Everyone he knows gave him a piece of their mind. Steve is a stubborn, dangerous, and proud alpha, still, he kneeled for you and exposed his neck. Any other alpha would’ve given up on you and your stubborn ass a long time ago.”
“What the fuck do you want me to do?” you rip the door open to growl at Bucky. He backpaddles, not liking that your eyes begin to glow. “Get away from me.”
“You don’t look good,” he hastily says. “I mean, you are a pretty girl. It’s not your looks, but something is wrong with your eyes and scent.”
“I—” you consider his words. It’s true. From the day Steve left and never came back, you feel odd. You’re restless and jumpy. Any time someone walks along the hallways you pace in front of the door to wait for Steve to knock. “This is not your problem. I’m thankful that you helped me back then, though. Just don’t come back here.”
“If my friend dies, it’s all your fault. All I’m asking for is for you to come with me and talk to Steve. I promise he won’t hurt you.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Bucky,” you give him a sad smile. “You can’t keep your friend from breaking my heart. I won’t allow him to turn me into a piece of meat he can use whenever he feels the need to get off. Now go and don’t come back.”
“Did she agree to visit him?” Sam watches Bucky walk out of your apartment complex. The brunette slams the door shut. “I guess not. What now?”
“I’m running out of options and time,” Bucky runs one hand down his face. He glances at your windows, huffing as you watch the alphas talk. “Call Peggy. Maybe her presence will help Steve. If not, we reached the end of the rope.”
“My friend, we already have reached the end of the rope,” patting Bucky’s shoulder Sam gives his friend a sad smile. “We both know he only wants this omega. Peggy’s presence will only make things worse. We need to call Banner. Maybe he can help Steve.”
“Suppressants won’t work, you know that. He’s too—”
“I know, but we gotta try, right?” Sam lifts his head to look at your window. “Damn these two idiots. They are perfect for each other.”
“You didn’t bring me my lasagna,” Steve lifts his head when your voice and scent fill his senses. He believes his mind is playing games now. “Where are my promised food and my weekly flower delivery? I’m kinda used to having my apartment full of flowers.”
“Doll?” he looks at the ripped fabric in his hands. “No. You’re not here. She hates me and doesn’t want me to come back. I can’t go back. Omega doesn’t want me to woo her.”
“Hello, my food,” you stiffly stand in front of his king size bed, wondering if it was the right decision to come here and talk to an alpha who’s about to go feral. “Rogers, you owe me dinner. You promised me Italian food.”
“I’m so tired, doll,” he weakly replies, barely glancing at you. “My wallet is on the nightstand; take the money and buy the food you want.”
“Oh no, Sir,” you rip the blanket covering his shivering body off of him. “Get out of the bed. It’s six pm, and you are not a child nor sick. Do not make me regret I came all the way out here only to smell your stink. I want to have dinner and you’ll not reek like a dead rat while we eat lasagna.”
“I reek,” Steve slowly sits up to lift his arm. He sniffs at his armpit, retching. “I reek a little.”
“No Sir, you stink as if something died in your ass or under your bed,” you wrap your hand around his wrist to drag Steve out of the bed. “Come on, you need a shower. I won’t do all the work.”
Steve swings his legs out of the bed and tries to get up. His legs are about to give in, but he tries his best to slowly walk toward the bathroom. “You’re annoying and loud.”
“Why did you come here? I thought you wanted me dead and gone.”
“I never said I want you dead. Just out of my sight and life.”
“That’s pretty much the same, doll,” he mutters as you open the door to the bathroom and push Steve inside. “Hey!”
“Get in there and wash your ass, Rogers. I’ll order food and we will discuss my weekly flower delivery. I’m a picky omega.”
“I got that doll.”
“Don’t get the wrong idea, Steve. I still hate you.”
The moment Steve closes the door behind him you run toward the bed to sniff at his pillow and blanket. You purr low in your throat. Your omega sings in delight as you find one of his shirts and put it in your bag.
“Hurry up. I’m fucking starving.”
“I’d prefer to fuck you until you are so weak you need food,” Steve calls from inside the bathroom. “Y/N? You still with me?”
You’re too engrossed in stealing Steve’s clothes to answer. “Yep. Now shut up and get clean.” You steal a pair of boxers and one sock before leaving the bedroom to order food.
“How did you do it?” Bucky watches you waltz toward the dining room, barking orders at Steve who follows you like a lost puppy. The alpha still isn’t himself. He’s in pre-rut and still suffering from pining sickness. “Parker?”
“Sir, that’s for me to know and for you to find out,” Peter Parker, the youngest member of Steve’s organization flashes the elder alpha a smile. “Let’s say, no one ever asked the lady what she wants. I did.”
“What does she want, Parker? I bet she’s up to no good.”
“Mr. Barnes, with all due respect, you and Mr. Rogers are idiots. That woman over there got her heart broken. You can see it in her eyes if you take your time to talk to her. I’m not a threat. A beta like me doesn’t mean harm to her. She wants one thing from Mr. Rogers.”
“And what’s that?” cocking his head to the side Bucky furrows his brows. “Spill it, Parker. We don’t have time to waste.”
“I know, Sir,” Peter won’t give in so easily. “Still, I gave her my word to not tell anyone. I’m a man of my word, Mr. Barnes. Just give her a bit of time and have a little faith.”
“I can tell you one thing,” the young beta says as he turns to leave. “Ms. Y/L/N is a good person and a kind woman. She will not break Mr. Rogers' heart, nor does she want to harm him. He’s in safe hands…”
“In safe hands, huh?”
>> Part 7
Tags in reblog.
✨june 2022 fic recs ✨
hellooo!! i’ve been wanting to do monthly fic recs for awhile now & i’m finally doing it!
please please please reblog to show your support for these incredible creators! and please check out/reblog their work!
also if anyone would like to send me fics to read i would love that!
this rec list includes fics for harry styles , calum hood, rafe cameron , tom holland , peter parker , chris evans , & steve rogers / all are reader insert fics
lighthouse series - @for-fucks-sake-h
backstage girlfriend - @astranva
sherbert - @moonchildstyles
...Splits Our Sides With Their Opening Monologue - @felixtok
father figure series - @milkiane
blue moon - @smokingbeersdrinkingweed
a royal convenience - @sourholland
who’d you rather - @alltoowelltom
linger - @totheblood
chris loves his wife - @toastedkiwi
futile series - @rocketrhap3000
everything and beyond series - @rodrikstark
Cisgender fanfic authors I'm begging y'all to please stop using the term afab when you mean your fic is about a Cisgender Female. Beause y'all will use it, and then i get excited thinking the fic is for trans people and intersex people- only to find out the author means cis women. This is especially common in smut. That's not what afab is for and the way y'all are using it makes it even harder for us to find content geared towards us because you're using the term incorrectly. And I know y'all don't mean harm when you're doing so, but lately I've been seeing more and more cis authors using it and I felt like I had to say something. I'm not mad or upset, and I know y'all don't have bad intentions.
If you have any questions my inbox is open- or feel free to comment on this post and I'll answer to the best of my ability. While I'm not intersex, I am trans so I can answer questions regarding trans people.
(The tags I'm using are relevant fandoms/characters I see this happening with. Might add more if I see it increasing within other tags)
In the balance - /Masterpost/
Status - ONGOING
Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers x reader
Warnings: non-con, dub-con, explicit sexual content, explicit language, smut, vaginal sex, oral (f and m recieving), anal fingering, praise kink, coercion, manipulation, explicit desciptions of violence, choking, graphic descriptions of blood, breeding kink, come kink, come play, forced pregnancy, depression, captivity, kidnapping (tags will be added along the way, but look at each chapter for spesific warnings), some very deppressive themes of psychological horror and manipulation.
Summary: One unsuspecting evening, the stranger Steve Rogers appears bloodied and in need of aid at your doorstep. You immediately catch his eye, and he forces himself upon you within the hour. Several months of repeated visits from him results in your pregnancy, and the night you find out, Steve intereceps you on your way to an abortion clinic and kidnaps you to his mansion. Will you carry the child to term? Will you buckle under the pressure of capitivity? Will you escape the grasp Steve has on you, or will you submit to it and your own, conflicted desires?
Note: This started with a drabble (what is now Chapter 2 - To give you what you need) and continued after the amazing and exciting feedback I got. Now it has grown to a BEAST, and I’m really fascinated with the way things are developing. Thank you thank you thank you to all the amazing replies and comments and reblogs so far, it has truly inspired me!!! It’s so exciting reading your responses, so if you’d be so inclined, I’d loooove to hear your thoughts on the tale😍
This is the first series I write and post simultaniously, so I really don’t know how often I will update!! Hopefully often! Also, my photo editing skills have improved considerably since my last series That which lingered on his mind - check it out!
This is DARK! Your media consumption is your own responsibility, but I advise you to not engage if the content in the warnings triggers you. Minors DNI!
Chapter 1 - Taking what he wants
Chapter 2 - To give you what you need
Chapter 3 - Keeping you
Chapter 4 - Put
Chapter 5 -
Chapter 6 -
Chapter 8 -
Chapter 9 -
Chapter 10 -
My work is not to be distributed outside this blog!
My inbox is open for any of your thoughts or prompts og asks🦋
Luv you, all you sweet and twisted darlings! Enjoy!😏💞
Do Not Disturb
Steve Rogers x Reader
Written for Man With A Plan Bingo 2022!
Square Filled: Cuddles
Summary: Steve's exhausted and a little run down with the hero business lately. Thankfully, he has Y/N to come home to and cuddle with. And they're not going to let ANYBODY interrupt what little rest Steve gets.
Word Count: 1,054
I flipped to the next page of my book, trying to block out the noise and focus on the story as someone came into the living room. I'd been trying to finish the newest book in my favorite series for a while, and I'd decided to do so on the couch in the living room of Avengers Tower. If I wanted to be confident no one would disturb my reading, I would've stayed in my room, but I wanted to venture out of my cave for a little bit, and most people were training or on missions, so it felt likely that no one would bother me.
Apparently, I was wrong. Someone flopped down onto the couch right next to me with a heavy sigh. I wouldn't have set down my book, except I recognized that sigh. It was my boyfriend, Steve Rogers, sounding more exhausted than he usually ever let people see.
I bookmarked my page and set my book aside, then turned to Steve. He had bags under his eyes and looked like he was about to pass out, right where he was. Usually, he was a pretty upbeat person, but clearly something was weighing on him today.
"Hey babe," I said, shifting on the couch so I was facing Steve. "What's wrong?"
He shook his head. "Nothing. It's just... the job's wearing on me a little more than usual."
"What do you mean?" I asked, shuffling a little closer and putting a hand on his arm. Steve didn't look at me, just kept staring holes in the ground.
"I've been running around putting out fires and getting the shit kicked out of me for days. I don't think I've slept more than a few twenty-minute naps in... four days?"
"Oh my gosh, Steve!" I cried, wrapping one arm around him and pulling him into me. His head landed on my chest, and slowly, he leaned the rest of his weight against me.
"I'm just so tired," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. I pursed my lips, but didn't say anything. I hated seeing him like this, and I hated what this job did to him sometimes. But at the end of the day, he loved it. Nothing would ever convince him to give it up.
I pulled Steve a little closer as I gently stroked his hair. I could feel him focusing on taking deep breaths and staying calm, so I slowly leaned back until we were reclined on the couch, Steve on top of me with his head on my chest.
"I'm so sorry you've had such a bad stretch of days," I mumbled, wrapping myself around him tightly. He just hummed in response. I kept running my hands through his hair, trying to help him relax and make him feel safe despite everything he'd gone through.
After a few minutes, I felt the tension fade out of Steve's body. His breathing evened out, and I quickly realized he'd fallen asleep.
I smiled to myself. About damn time he got some rest.
We stayed like that for a long time, and I'd just started to drift off myself when I heard footsteps and loud voices coming up from the training room. I turned to glare at the doorway whoever it was would have to come through, trying to move as little as possible so I didn't disturb Steve.
After a few seconds, Tony and Bruce appeared, chatting away about some science project or other they were working on. They stopped short when they saw me, and Tony opened his mouth (probably to ask why I was glaring), but he stopped short when I put my finger to my mouth in an aggressive shushing gesture.
They both gave me questioning looks, so I pointed sharply at Steve, who by some miracle was still passed out on top of me. He must've really been exhausted to sleep through the noise and activity no matter how hard I'd been trying to limit it.
Bruce and Tony tiptoed over until they got close enough to see Steve. Bruce nodded and clearly understood why he needed to be quiet. Tony got an evil gleam in his eye.
"Hey!" I hissed, smacking him in the arm to get him to look at me. Our eyes locked, and I slowly shook my head, giving him a stare that promised death and pain if he acted on whatever idea was clearly bouncing around in his head.
I could literally see the gears turning in Stark's head as he weighed his options. Bruce put a hand on his shoulder and nodded towards the lab, giving Tony another activity to do other than messing with my boyfriend, which I appreciated. Still, it took Tony a minute to consider. And I didn't let up with my stare once during that minute.
Fortunately for Steve, although I wasn't as involved in the superhero business as I used to be, I'd proven time and time again that I could hang with the assassins in our group skill-wise, which made me a dangerous enemy if someone in the Tower chose to piss me off.
After a little bit more considering, Tony seemed to remember this, and my history in the training room and on the battlefield won out. He rolled his eyes and huffed, but turned and headed for the lab instead of waking up Steve. Bruce smiled, giving me a wave as he headed off with Tony. I waved back and watched the two men disappear, then went back to gently stroking Steve's hair.
Absolutely nobody was going to get in the way of him getting some much needed rest if I had anything to say about it. The two of us were too comfortable, and cuddling on the couch was too rare to shorten it any more than we absolutely had to.
Maybe one day, when the younger generation of superheroes were ready to take over, Steve and I could relax and retire and do this more often. But for now, I was going to take every moment I could get.
Steve x Granddaughter!reader - want you
I adored your steve rogers x graddaughter fic can we pls get another where they find out they are family and she is worried he doesnt want her obvi he does he comforts her - Anon💜
You didn’t even think that you and Steve could’ve been related, when Peter decided to introduce you to the rest of the avengers you quickly bonded with the man.
He became like a brother to you within months, but it was Bruce that said you could be related.
“You guys look really similar.” Tony nodded.
You and Steve looked at one another.
“I don’t see it.” You said.
“Yeah, me neither.” He agreed.
“No, no Bruce is right.” Clint said.
The others started to inspect the pair of you, comparing where you looked similar.
Eyes, hair, nose.
It was sort of creepy if you were being honest.
“Why not do a DNA test?” Peter asked.
“We can do it right now?” Bruce offered.
You turned to Steve, waiting for him to say what he wanted to do.
He seemed to debate this for a few seconds before nodding his head and you nodded as well.
Following Bruce and Tony to the lab, both of you were taken into different rooms and kept there until the test was completed.
Even then, Tony didn’t let you leave, he brought the results to you and handed them over.
“Go ahead kid.” He smiled.
Slowly opening it, you dropped the paper in shock.
You snapped your eyes up to the other room where Steve was staring at the slip of paper.
“My grandfather?” You whispered.
“Yup. You are directly related to our very own Cap.” Tony grinned.
“He doesn’t seem happy…” you mumbled.
Tony turned to where Steve was and walked over.
While he went to speak to Steve you quickly left the tower to go back home.
Sure, you were happy he was family, since you treated each other like family anyways.
But that reaction didn’t seem like a good one, and you didn’t want to stay and hear him say he didn’t want you or see the anger or hurt on his face.
So, you decided to go home and sit on the couch instead, face in your hands as you processed everything.
About an hour later there was a knock on your door.
After composing yourself, you walked over and opened it to find steve stood on the other side.
“Are you okay?” He frowned.
“I… uh.. yeah…” you nodded slowly.
Steve frowned and look at you.
“You ran off… do you… not like the results..?”
“No! No steve I do! Trust me! I see you as family so to know that you’re actually family makes me happy beyond believe…”
You stepped aside and let him come in and walked your way back to the couch.
Steve sat on the other side of the couch and turned to face you.
“Why’d you run away?”
“You… didn’t look happy.. I thought you didn’t want me…”
Immediately steve was next to you and you were wrapped up in his arms as he held you.
“Of course I do. I was shock, and amazed is all. Of course I want you, you’re my family, blood related to not.”
You smiled softly and hugged him back.
Y/N: The stars are so beautiful...
Steve: They're just giant balls of gas.
Y/N: You know what, if you're just going to ruin this, then-
Steve: And yet none of them are as huge as my love for you.
Enjoy reading my loves! ♡︎
My Hero Academia
Bunny’s Favorites ♡︎
Hey! I saw you're looking for fluffy comfort requests. About three weeks ago I broke my collarbone in two spots and part of my t1 vertebrae. There's not a whole lot I'm allowed to do with my left arm right now and kind of part of how I've been dealing is imagining a world where Steve is real and helping me out. I always see Steve being described as a total mother hen which I think is fitting. Could you write something where reader gets hurt (whatever kind of injury you want to write) and Steve takes care of them? They can be in a relationship or not. Thanks!
I'll Take Care of You
Summary : While training with Steve, you get injured.
Warnings : mention of injury, that's it :)
Notes : aw i'm so sorry about your injuries anon! i hope you feel better! enjoy :)
You were the only person who would wake up early enough to train with Steve. He would wake up around 5 am to go on a run then come back to the compound to train at 6. Was it because you had a crush on the captain? No, definitely not...
Yes. It totally was.
Natasha and Tony would tease you about it, but at least you were training, right? The first time you showed up early to the training room, it took Steve off guard. Usually, he'd workout and train by himself to gather his thoughts but then you walked in one morning and now, he looked forward to training with you.
You got up a little late since Sam and Natasha took you out for drinks the night before. When you woke up to your alarm that had been snoozed five times, you were late to training.
You jogged into the training room to see Steve was hitting a punching bag over and over again, with a row of extra punching bags set up. He looked over when the door opened to see you, already in your workout clothes and with your bag over your shoulder.
"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to sleep in! I know you wait for me, I'm sorry-"
"It's okay. I know you, Sam and Nat hung out last night, I was expecting you to sleep in," Steve said with a smile.
Why did he have to be so understanding? Why did his smile make your heart skip a beat?
"Well," you said as you placed your bed down, "I guess we should start training, huh?"
"We should, since we missed half an hour of our usual time," Steve teased as he walked over to the sparring ring with you.
You and Steve would do a few rounds of sparring then switch to something else, whatever either of you wanted to do. You were on round three of sparring and the late night tiredness was catching up to you. You went to bed at midnight so you only had little over 6 hours of sleep.
Your hits and strikes were getting a bit sloppy and Steve noticed, simply dodging side to side. Then, you put too much force into a punch and with Steve moving to the side, you went flying forward to the ground. On your way down, you hit your head on one of the ring's posts.
Steve called out your name but the hit to your head made you dizzy and dazed. He was by your side in an instant, picking you up and sitting you down on a nearby bench. "Hey, are you okay?"
"My head hurts," you answered quietly.
"Just keep your eyes open and stay awake, alright? I'll take care of you," he replied, walking over to get a cold water bottle from the stocked fridge. He went back to you, kneeling down and pressing the cold bottle against your head. "What else can I do?"
"Just keep me thinking, ask me questions. That's what you do with head injuries...I think."
"Um, well, what did you, Nat and Sam talk about last night?"
"Nothing special. They kept teasing me, though."
"Teasing you about what?"
"They think I have a crush on you because I train with you."
Steve moved to sit next to you, still holding the bottle to your head. "Oh. Um, if they're wrong, why do you train with me?"
You laughed before wincing in pain a little bit. "They're not wrong, Steve. At first, they were, but not they aren't."
"So you have a crush on me?"
"Yes, Captain, I have a crush on you."
You looked over at Steve. In your sleep deprived and injured state, you just admitted your feelings to Steve. Smooth, real smooth.
Steve smiled at you, the same one that would give you butterflies, before giving you a kiss on your cheek. You immediately blushed as a lovesick smile grew on your face.
"I think you should take me to the medical bay, I'm pretty sure I just hallucinated you giving me a kiss on the cheek," you said, weakly laughing.
"Wasn't a hallucination, but alright doll."
Steve gently took your hand and placed it on the water bottle, making sure you were holding it before he scooped you up in his strong arms. He carried you out of the training room and down the hallways to the medical bay.
You may have hit your head, but you knew you weren't hallucinating. Steve Rogers had given you a kiss, called you doll and carried you to the medical bay.
He really knew how to take care of you.
babe, i just thought of the softest thing for an x reader- could you write headcanons of bucky barnes, peter parker, and steve rogers (separately) x pregnant reader where they're basically giving the reader a spa day after a rough week of work and family and baby stuff - like bubble baths, massages, foot rubs, all the good stuff 🥺
giving you a spa day ✧ bucky barnes, steve rogers, & peter parker
angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)
request: babe, i just thought of the softest thing for an x reader- could you write headcanons of bucky barnes, peter parker, and steve rogers (separately) x pregnant reader where they're basically giving the reader a spa day after a rough week of work and family and baby stuff - like bubble baths, massages, foot rubs, all the good stuff 🥺 - ☕ - quinns-wndrlnd
pairing: bucky barnes x pregnant!fem!reader; steve rogers x pregnant!fem!reader; peter parker x pregnant!fem!reader
word count: 983
warnings?: pregnant!reader, fluff
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your pregnancy had been on the rough side. something about carrying the child of a super soldier, the doctors hypothesized. your morning sickness was horrific, your stomach grew at a faster rate, you were constantly craving something.
of course, for as rough as it was, you wouldn’t trade it for the world. you loved that you and bucky would soon be raising your child.
bucky was beyond excited. he was already figuring out which crib was the best, what gadgets and gizmos were worth buying and what was not worth your time. oh, it was so endearing, seeing how excited he got.
but there were several people who weren’t as excited. namely, your boss.
granted, your boss wasn’t a big fan of you to begin with. but the second you started showing, started having to take more days off to go to doctor’s appointments because god carrying a super soldier baby was rough, she started using every opportunity to wear you down. you were half-convinced that she was going to deny you maternity leave, because she was just that cruel.
you’d generally been good about ignoring her, but this week…oh, it was a week from hell.
by the time friday rolled around, you just wanted to curl up in a ball and cry and cry and cry. and that’s what you were about to do, when you walked into your shared apartment with bucky, looking at the at-home spa set-up he’d put together.
“oh my god, what is all this?” you asked.
“i’d seen how stressed you were,” bucky said, “and i couldn’t get any appointments at any spas this week, so i decided i’d bring the spa to you.”
“you’re so fucking sweet, oh my god,” you said, choking on a sob. “i love you so much.”
“i love you too,” he said. “now, for the entire weekend, i’m completely at your service. anything you want, it’s yours.”
and oh, did he make that worth your while.
steve had completely taken you by surprise.
when you and steve got married, you decided that you would be a housewife. steve made plenty of money for the both of you and your future family, and if you had to choose between working a job you hated until you were able to retire and being able to take care of your home, taking care of your home won by a landslide.
of course, that didn’t mean you didn’t end up at your wit’s end from time to time.
steve had largely stopped going on long missions after the two of you married and began focusing on starting a family, wanting to be close to you when you needed him. but still, there were some missions that required him.
now that you were pregnant, those missions that he did go on became even worse than you. with your hormones completely out of whack, it made the distance even harder.
so when steve came back from his latest mission, telling you that he’d booked a couples’ retreat at the spa, you were over the moon.
“you are so good to me,” you said, looking over at steve as he drove the two of you up to the spa.
“you deserve it,” steve said. he’d been holding your hand as he drove, and he lifted your joined hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “you do so much for me. you deserve me doing just as much for you.”
“you know, if you treat our kid as well as you treat me, they’re going to turn to a spoiled brat real quick,” you teased.
“perhaps,” he mused, “but i’d give anything for my family.”
peter often felt bad about how he didn’t have a lot of money to spoil you rotten the way he wanted to.
he had enough money to get by, but even that money was beginning to stretch thin after you got pregnant, nearly everything the both of you earned going towards prepping the apartment for the baby’s imminent arrival.
but, at work today, he’d gotten a pretty sizable bonus. well, it wasn’t a lot, but it was enough to get you something nice. but, what to get?
you often said there wasn’t anything you really wanted, that you had everything you need: a loving boyfriend, a roof over your head, food in your belly, a job you didn’t despise, and soon, yours and peter’s child. peter often wondered if that was actually true, or if you were just being nice so he wouldn’t feel bad.
peter put most of the money away in a rainy day fund, in case something came up (and something usually came up when it was least expected). but he had just enough money left over to book you a day at the spa.
he presented you with his gift when you got back from work, waddling in, groaning slightly as you kicked off your shoes.
“tough day?” he asked, kneeling down to help you pull off a shoe you couldn’t quite kick off on your own.
“you have no idea,” you said, kissing him when he stood back up after helping you with your shoe. “my mom called today, and she just kept criticizing everything i’ve been doing since we found out we were having a baby. i swear, there’s nothing i can do that’s right for that woman.”
“i’m sorry,” peter said. “i know that’s really hard. but, i think what i got to tell you might make you feel a bit better.”
you tilted your head. “what?”
“i got a bonus today, and i put most of the money away, but…i thought that you deserved a day down at the spa. i booked you a full day on saturday.”
“oh, pete—” you threw your arms around his neck, kissing him. “you are the sweetest man i’ve ever met.”
THE EVE OF A CRUEL ANGEL'S THESIS
CHAPTER 3 : A GAME OF CHESS
Pairing : Mafia!Stucky x Reader
Summary : After years of absence, you were thought to be dead. But here you were, alive and ready to take everything that was yours, or you'd die trying. And this time, you would take both of them with you.
Warnings : 18+ ONLY, Minor DNI, canon level violence, mentions of murder, guns and blood, soft!dark, angst, fluff, trauma (mental and physical)
A/N : i forgot that story omg ?? but i guess better later than never so, here it goes :)
You’d never noticed but your ceiling was very detailed. The carving on it and the painting was absolutely magnificent. It made your head spin and to follow all the intricate patterns but you always loved doing it, mostly when you were waiting for so long. You needed a distraction or you’d leave and you really didn’t want to get in trouble over that again. You had dealt with the consequences of her wrath before, the silent treatment was deadly, that you could definitely attest.
You swung on your chair, back and forth. You looked like one of those kids in the back of the class who kept playing with their chairs, until they’d inevitably fall and bust their heads on the floor. The image was grime but it fit the setting, the situation and the future situations you would inevitably have to deal with.
Things were peaceful now, but peace could only last for so long, right ? And with the way things were already going, the situations would be rushing to your doorstep very soon. You were taking big steps, very big ones and it should scare you. You knew it would put a price on your head, but if your plan was going according to what you have in mind, a big one was already looming and waiting to fall. Unfortunately for them, you’d gotten crazy good at dodging.
“Stop balancing yourself on that chair before you break your skull.”
You jump at the sound of her voice, your second in command. Turning around, you smile when you see her glare pointed at you. Classic, she always seemed to be angry at you but you knew better. When she was angry, everyone knew it. This was her looking barely annoyed, not above the ordinary at least.
You stood up, skipping towards her, gum in mouth, popping enormous pink bubbles. You and your candies had a very close relationship, sweet and not really good for you if you consumed too much, too regularly, so exactly like you would. You’d barely gotten close to her that she was already lifting a small trashcan in front of your face.
“If you want to be taken seriously, you have to drop the childish act. It starts with spitting out that gum you’ve been popping for hours.”
You grin, smacking even louder which results in her smacking your head.
“You can’t hit me ! I’m your boss remember ?”
“Yes I can, we’re in America. It’s a free country. Now if you wanna complain, send me back to Russia.” She scolds, putting down the trashcan when you finally spit the peace of gum.
You watch her pace in front of you, checking your appearance before sighing. You never knew whether she was exhausted or if she was satisfied. But when she made no further comment, you settled on the later.
Your expression softened and you walked up to her with a small smile, the kind that a big sister would have to reassure the younger one.
“You worry too much. It’s a simple meeting, nothing more.”
“It’s not a simple meeting and you should know. Having this man in your pocket means controlling half of New York’s underground crime society. You’d have every petty thief and random bank robbers at your feet. And there’s a whole lot of them around here.” When she took a pause, you knew that she was testing the waters, making sure proceeding was possible. This conversation you had been having it for months now. And despite the different context of change of tone, it never changed enough for to not anticipate the next part.
“I know what you’re about to ask and you know my answer. It hasn’t changed.”
“Then let me ask you again, in case you need someone else to give you the wake up call you might be needing.” Walking up to you, she stood in front of you and stared into your eyes. “Are you ready for what’s coming ? Truly ready ? Because after today, there’s no going back. After today the war is official.”
It took you a few seconds of thinking, not for you but for all the people around you. After years hiding in the shadows, you’d reveal yourself again and start something that couldn’t be undone. Were you ready for this ? In your head and your heart, the answer was clear.
“I’m ready Yelena. I’ve waited five years to get were we are now. There’s no backing down. We’re doing this and going all the way.” You turned around to look out the window with a hopeful smile. “We’ll burn this city to the ground and rebuild over its ruins.”
When you both walked in the room, the air was tense and you should’ve been scared. Your guest was an important man, known in these streets for his methods and his ease when it came to killing. He was efficient, the most efficient even and was never scared to get his hands dirty.
“Mister Castle, happy to see you’ve accepted our invitation to a meeting.”
You wait a few seconds with your hand ready to shake his but lower it when he makes it clear that he had no intention to. This man was the epitome of a tough cookie and it was clear that corporate politeness and fake smiles wouldn’t do with him. You needed to remember that as efficient as you were, as talented as you were, this was his world. He’d lost friends, family and more to it. So you needed to drop the act and show yourself for who you really were.
“Let’s drop all that chit chat and get to the real stuff. I’m curious to see exactly what you think you’ll be getting from me. Last time I heard about you, you were supposed to be six feet under. And now you want me keeping this meeting secret and breaking the code and going behind their backs to join you.” He thanked Yelena for the drink she had placed in front of him and you did the same when she’d given you the same. “Give me a reason not to make sure that you actually do end up under this time.”
“Because they’d kill you if they knew you were the one responsible for my death.”
This simple phrase wasn’t what had gotten him so stunned, it was the tone used in the sentence that surprised him.
When he looked at you, he tried his hardest to see the young woman he had met at a gala hosted by the mob, to celebrate new acquisitions and enemies going down, but most importantly, to celebrate your professional achievements. They were always over the top like that, enjoying celebrating your success more than their own, so you learned how to compromise.
But when his eyes looked into yours, he saw something he knew all too well. Something he had been carrying with him for years and even with everything he had now, could ne er let go of. When he looked at you, he could see pure rage, dancing precise and controlled steps in your veins. He knew these eyes better than anyone, the eyes of a woman betrayed by the ones she had loved so much that her own self love started to dissipate. She’d been crushed to powered and had to regrow from her own ruins.
She was him and he was her.
He understood now, where in so little time you had found such power. A woman born from the suffering of her people, the outsiders who had no other choice but to learn how to walk free in the world of the damned and the willing sinners.
A willing sinner, she’d grown into one, accepting to break her own morals to raise herself to the ranks of those she was targeting. A beast on a hunt, slowly molding itself to be as non threatening and discreet as she’d need to be.
In that exact moment, Frank Castle recognized you for what you were : a threat.
Adjusting in his seat, he watched you stand up to give him a file. When he opened it, he closed it just as quickly, he didn’t need to see more, not when he knew the content by heart. It was his own archives and inventory after all. Everything about his activities for the mob, Steve and Bucky.
“Do you see these charts ? How low they keep getting ?” You asked, a quirked brow signaling the slight sarcasms in the question. You sat back on your seat, skimming through the various papers without truly paying attention. “You’re praised, worshipped even, for your efficiency in your work. But your recent results have been true disappointments in my opinion.”
The look he directed on you would’ve made many whimper and cower in fear. But the smile that crept on your face clearly meant something completely different. For a quick second, his eyes changed from ego fueled rage to curiosity. You noticed it and you also noticed how he quickly went back to his previous expression. You were both understanding each other in that moment, analyzing each other. You were playing a game and if things went right, there would only be winners here.
“You’ve spent the last year taking take or the messes left behind by the big bosses while staying in the same position. I know money and power don’t interest you, you want your peace, but you can’t have that when you’re playing babysitter, right Mr Castle ?”
His silence was sufficient and so were his eyes, expressing the deep exhaustion he felt. You knew nothing about this man and who he was inside, only what he was as a member of the mob. But it wouldn’t take a second set of eyes and a Masters in psychology to see the obvious. This man was tired, physically, mentally and in all the other senses of the term.
“Listen Mr Castle-“
“Listen Frank.” You walked up to him with a second file that Yelena had brought with her earlier and place it in front of him without handing it fully. When he tried to grab it, you quickly pulled it out if his reach with a smile. Said smile he was trying very hard to not return, amused by the situation. “I’m here to align with people, not control them through fear to take care of me and my messes for me when I’m not mentally stable enough to do it myself. And definitely not when I refuse help.”
The dig at Steve and Bucky’s mental health and stability to rule was low, very low. But it felt refreshing to hear what he’d been thinking to himself. He’d seen broken men, in and out of war and the last rational thing to do was put them in a position of power over other’s life. But powerful men never accepted help and would rather look crazy than lose the only sense of stability they had left.
“What do you want from me then ? Because what tells me I won’t be doing the exact same shit I did for them but for you ?”
“Nothing.” You stood up to fill up your glass and his before returning with a solemn expression. “Nothing can assure you of anything. But you’re a clever man Frank and your instincts have never let you down.” You leaned in front of him, allowing him to look into your eyes a fully stare into your soul. “So see, analyze and tell me. Tell me whether or not you trust me enough to do business with me and then we’ll see for the rest.”
The choice was quick, quicker than what you’d expected and once signed, the news spread like a wildfire.
Frank was out. Done with the Rogers and Barnes conglomerate. It was over between them. You’d done it, you absolutely mad lad, they called you. You had acquired one of the most feared man of the city and that without needing to show any excessive show of power.
The wave of distrust started to grow, you were getting exactly what you wanted. You didn’t particularly care about getting Frank Castle. He was efficient but he did, Yelena could do way faster and without ever being seen or remembered. They’d be too scared to even speak of her. You needed him to pass a message, make as much noise as you could. You would take until there was nothing to tale anymore. And after taking the Frank Castle, The Punisher or New York, you wouldn’t even need to take by force. The people would flock towards you like moths in the light.
The mob was a world of survivor and opportunists. If you knew what was good for you, you’d turn towards the side that represented exactly that, opportunities. And if your plan went right, you would quickly become the new opportunity.
The news was announced to Steve and Bucky quickly, again it spread fast. Frank was the one to do it.
“Sorry but business is business. You’re turning too dangerous, and you know I don’t like useless danger, I like my peace. And this new boss can offer me just that and ten times more guarantees. You’d be surprised by what the newbies can do nowadays. Call it the power of rage.”
As he hung up, both men stared into the distance, trying as hard as they could to contain their anger but failing to do so. The phone was crushed in Bucky’s metal arm while Steve stood up, pacing around to compose himself. The hole his fist formed in the wall proved his attempt to be unsuccessful.
Losing Frank meant losing both territories and people. They’d been irrational lately but they still cared about their business. That meant that they would care about losing more men than needed. But despite all that, despite all the risks, they still couldn’t care less. Not when they had a new lead on you, the best they had in the last five years. A lead that not only you were alive, but that also revealed how close you had been all this time.
Part 1— Question Authority￼
Pairing: mob!Steve Rogers x mob!Reader
Summary: When the world renowned criminal Tony Stark takes you underneath his wing, you’re thrown into a world of riches, deception, and people who want to witness your demise. One of them being Steve Rogers. Will he succeed? Or will love get in the way of his yearn for power.
Warnings: 18+, angst, mentions of blood, physical fighting
It was no secret that Steve Rogers was feared by most. But so were you.
Although he was a staggering six-four, you had no issue standing up to the man. Whatever bullshit he spewed out you met with even bitter-tasting words. Sometimes you're competitors, other times you're partners. Neither negating the fact that you despised Steve Rogers and all the false glory he was surrounded by.
His empire was built on deception and lies just like them all. Code of honor was thrown out of the window years ago as a new generation of gangsters took their parent's place and began to rule.
Unlike them, you did not have the privilege of stemming from a long line of wealthy individuals. There was no generational wealth that would guarantee a safe life. You didn't sit your ass on diamond-encrusted toilet seats and you sure as hell never thought you'd be sitting at a table filled with the wealthiest people on the planet.
Your position was acquired solely by chance. See, long ago before you ever met Steve Rogers, you were merely the daughter of Tony Stark's best friend.
Your father knew what Tony was involved in and yet, he still stuck by his side. He had no intentions of being involved with the darker side of Tony's life. He took no money or assistance from his friend. Your father was set on doing everything by himself and you couldn't thank him enough for it.
Although he knew everything that went on in Tony's life, he firmly believed that ignorance is bliss and that protecting you was his sole priority.
Unfortunately, he didn't protect you for long.
After your father died Tony and his wife Pepper took you under their wings. You were so much like your father...but still Tony noticed slight differences. He saw a flame that was waiting to be ignited in your mind. You were powerful, he could tell just by looking at you that your capabilities were endless.
It's why he trained you. It's why he never bothered to hide who he was because he knew that you could handle it.
And "handle" is precisely what you did.
Tony taps his fingers on the circular table as he waits for his guests to arrive. Chaos was erupting from all sectors and everyone was long overdue for a good, old-fashioned meeting.
His movements halt from the sounds of his secretary's heels entering the room. "Sir, they're on their way up."
"Fantastic. Maybe we can finally get some shit accomplished," he grumbles.
The secretary nods in agreement before opening the door wide open. Although she hid it well, she was terrified by the thought of waiting around in a room filled with powerful beings who could snap her head instantly. Sure it was her job but these people were reckless and without a conscience. One wrong move and her life is on the line.
"Stark!" A deep voice calls out— and the first to enter the lion's den. Brock Rumlow.
"Rumlow," Tony speaks. The two men shake hands before retreating to their seats at the round table. "How's your dad?"
"Still old," Rumlow shrugs.
"Always an asshole I see," another man calls.
Rumlow turns towards the door, rebuttal already in mind because the annoying tone of Bucky Barnes was engraved into his brain. "And I see you still have a stick up your ass Barnes."
Rolling his eyes, Bucky heads for the opposite seat across from Rumlow. If he wants to talk shit he's just gonna have to do it to his face the entire night. And thus a stare-off ensues between Bucky and Rumlow until another guest arrives.
Well— two to be exact. Natasha Romanoff and Yelena Belova...although with how much they stick together they're basically accounted for as one.
"Stark," they nod in unison. "I see we've made it just in time to see these two fools act like children," Yelena huffs.
"Always the pleasure to entertain you sweetheart," Rumlow smirks. The sisters scowl, taking a seat as far from Rumlow as possible.
Tony watches tirelessly as Barnes and Rumlow continue to argue while Yelena and Natasha chatter away. Time was being lost and so was his patience.
"Where's Rogers," Tony sighs.
"You know how he is," Bucky snorts. "Surprised you even got the man to come down here."
And as if on cue, Steve Rogers comes waltzing into the room with a snide look on his face. See, unlike the rest who respect Tony's hierarchy, Steve Rogers is set on tearing it down. Traditionalism is worn out and having an old man control the sectors was only making everything worse for him. He wants— no needs to see Tony knocked down a few pegs...or completely.
Steve claps his hands. "What're we waiting for? Let's get started."
Tony eyes each person in the room before speaking. This meeting might just be the most important thing he’s ever done, and if anything doesn’t go according to plan then everything he’s worked for could come crumbling down.
"As you know we've been suffering some extreme losses at our borders. We've always had groups fighting against us but there's been far too many to call it a coincidence."
"Twenty of my men died during the attacks from this week alone. We hiked it up to being some unruly people but you're right. There's been far too many," Bucky states.
"My widows have been looking into it. We don't have much yet but I have room to believe that these attacks are organized and planned. You're right Barnes, this isn't a few fed-up people with a bone to pick— they have an agenda."
Tony calls his secretary over, instructing her to bring him a map of every area that they control. The sisters brought up a good point. Planned attacks indicate an agenda, and agendas, if not dealt with properly, are extremely dangerous.
He unfolds the map hurriedly, fingers tracing over their hidden locations and warehouses for distribution. "Barnes, where exactly were your men stationed during the attacks."
"Around here," he points.
Tony nods, marking the area with a red circle before moving on to Natasha and Yelena. "What were some of the places where your widows took note of attacks?"
"Here, here....and here," Natasha states. Her finger trails down from north to south, pausing to tap on a location before continuing. Tony marks every single one, and when she's done, he stands up to take a good look at what he's drawn.
"So far it looks like these attacks are solely happening near warehouses surrounded by forests. Whether that means it's easier for them to sneak by and attack, or if it indicates that our threshold is weaker in those areas, we need to bulk up on security asap."
Everyone nods in agreement...except for one.
Tony sighs. "Something tells me that this is only the tip of the iceberg and if we don't act now, we're gonna see the consequences real soon."
Steve Rogers shakes his head in disagreement, a scoff sounding around the room as he stares at Tony. "I think the problem runs a whole lot deeper than this," he shrugs.
Tony raises an eyebrow, "Go on then Rogers. Tell us what you're thinking."
"What I think is that people are noticing that who we have in charge isn't as fit as he used to be."
Everyone's eyes widen in shock. Calling out Tony Stark is a death sentence and clearly, Steve Rogers had a wish.
"Look. Maybe ‘back in your day’ people respected the boundaries but all of that shit is worthless now. Doesn't matter what land you claim, or where your men are stationed. Everything's fair game. A lawful fight is outta the question and I'm starting to think whoever's planning these attacks is well aware of that."
The poor secretary turns to face the door as Steve lets everything off his chest. Maybe if she stands still none of them will notice her presence lingering in the background. Fuck she doesn't get paid enough for this bullshit.
"Someone's testing you Stark and it seems like you've already failed."
"He's got a point...." Rumlow mutters. "Hate to say it but he does."
Tony stands up abruptly, his eyes narrowing in anger. "Listen here, Rogers. Question my tactics and see what the fuck happens. Thought your father would've taught you better than that."
Steve jeers. "My father? Yea let's talk about our fathers Stark."
"You've sat here and ruled with every single one of our parents...and despite them finally taking a step down, your tired ass is still here. But I guess that's what happens when your wife can't have kids huh? That why you're so bitter? Everything you worked for evaporating into nothing cause you can't fuck a kid into her."
Before anyone could blink, Tony's chair pushes against the wall as he hurdles toward Rogers. Punches are thrown left and right, blood splattering across the white walls as the two men unleash their anger.
Steve grips onto Tony’s neck, choking him until he’s banging against his chest to breathe. Eventually Tony slips from his grasp, knocking his feet and sending him flying to the ground. Steve drags him with him, both men wrestling to come on top.
Finally, Steve manages to get on top of Tony. Without hesitation, his fist goes flying into his face. Shouts of agony sprout from Tony as Steve continues to slam his face into the ground. Even Rumlow has to look away in disgust.
He doesn’t stop until Tony’s hand flies up in surrender. His face now dripping bright red as he tries to collect himself.
"Do you all feel the same way?" Tony grits. First, he stares up at the man towering over him. His own blood covering Steve’s fist entirely. Then he stares at the others, their hesitant faces debating if they should state their truth.
But finally one speaks. Rumlows eyes Tony’s defeated position, and suddenly everything Rogers had stated seems blatantly true. Maybe it’s time for a new order after all. “I do,” he states.
Tony nods, his eyes wandering to Barnes. “Yes,” he agrees.
Lastly, Romanoff and Belova whisper amongst themselves until they finally state their choice. "You’ve helped us with a lot of shit Stark…but maybe it’s time.”
Steve finally lets that accomplished smirk loose. He had won.
"Someone’s gotta fill your position Stark. And since there’s no heir you have no choice but to surrender to one of us." he shrugs.
This meeting was far more than discussing the chaos brewing between the sectors but was more so a chance to finally announce the news that he had been aching to say.
Steve had always been headstrong but as of recently, Tony noticed that the others were slowly questioning his rule too. It was only a matter of time before he was challenged, and he knew that tonight would be the night for everything to go down.
"There's no need for that,” Tony states flatly.
The doors to the meeting room slowly open up, a flood of light shedding across the space. Steve’s shit-eating grin immediately falls upon seeing the figure walking through.
“I’d like you all to meet my daughter.”
Silence covers the room like a blanket—everyone staring at you attempting to put together what this all meant. You look nothing like Tony, that much was obvious. But the man was too righteous to lie. But then again, his empire meant everything to him. They wouldn’t put it past him to cheat his way into keeping it.
“What kind of sick game are you playing Stark?” Rumlow spats. “You don’t have a damn daughter so who the fuck is this?”
Steve stares down at his fist, an amused look on his face as he shakes the blood from his skin. “I’ll give it to you Stark, you sure as hell know how to put on a show.”
You eye Steve Rogers carefully. Tony had told you time and time again to watch out for him. He’s a wildcard, nothing like his father who Tony had respected greatly. And as you saw both of their beaten faces, you knew he was right to be wary.
But the blood didn’t phase you. Tony had made sure of that within each training session where you were forced to make every single victim shed blood. And occasionally, they shed yours.
Ignoring the shocked faces and scowls, you walk over to Tony and reach out your hand. He takes it and stands up, leaning into your ear and whispering two words. “Good Luck.”
“Like I’ll need it,” you smirk.
“She’s cute,” Natasha shrugs. “Where you been hiding her?”
Smiling, you turn to face the sisters. Their beauty is unmatched, proving every rumor true about how they commanded any room they inhabited. They piqued your interest the most. Although charming, you knew they were deadly.
“Yea Stark, please explain to the class what the hell is going on here,” Bucky barks.
“Listen, all you need to know is that Tony’s my father, whether that's by blood or not doesn’t matter. All the legal documents are in place and I am fully considered his heir.” Every word is spoken with confidence but still, Steve isn’t buying it.
“Even if she is your kid Stark, look at her. She’s weak. You think that’s capable of taking over everything you’ve built?”
“And who do you suggest do it?” you spat. “Clearly not you…can barely control your temper. What makes you think you can control this?” You throw your hands up into the air, signaling the mansion that each of you are currently standing in.
Steve steps up to you, his stature towering over you in a poor attempt at intimidation. Scoffing, you look up, your eyes screaming at each other with wrath. This man didn’t scare you. Hell, nobody does. Everyone, no matter how sinful, has a weakness that can turn them fragile. And lucky for you, it already seems like Steve is on the way to breaking.
“What? You gonna hit me just like you did Tony?”
Steve scoffs. “I’d break you in an instant sweetheart.”
He saw you as pathetic— a bug that he could easily squish. You can feel his breath on your skin. Hardly an inch separates your faces. His beard grazes over your skin as he awaits your response.
Your eyes narrow. “Try me,” you mouth slowly.
In an instant, Steve is on you. His fists, still immersed in blood, aim for your face. Quickly you dodge it, grabbing onto his hand and pulling him against your chest. You take your knee and slam it into his thigh while your arms wrap around his neck. He mumbles something incoherent but you easily caught the last phrase. “Fucking bitch.”
He aims for your legs, pushing you farther and farther across the room until you’re against the wall. You block his punches towards your face, arms across your head in a defensive position until you're able to break free from his grasp.
You take the opportunity to strike his face. He grunts in pain as blood begins to seep from his nose and make its way to his mouth.
“Fucking bitch,” you mock.
Throwing him against the wall, you go blind with rage. Tony knew Steve would challenge you. It was the only way that he could force him to surrender his position. You spent weeks studying his fight patterns and eventually everything he did became predictable. Just like it is now.
Steve’s body, once covered in Tony’s blood, is now showered with his own. And at last, he gave in. His body slumps against the wall, your body leaning on top of him as he mutters a near silent “Congratulations.”
You nod in commendation. A slight smile graces your face from the realization that everything had gone to plan. Everything belongs to you.
The both of you are still entangled together and you can no longer tell whose blood is whose. Not once breaking eye contact, you lift your hand and slide your finger across his lips, wiping off the blood from them.
He looks at you questionably as you disentangle yourself and head towards Tony’s seat as if it were your throne.
And as you sit yourself down, Steve’s eyes gleam with a hint of admiration.
In the balance - Chapter 4: Put
Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers x reader
Word count: 3,1k
Warnings: non-con, dub-con, depression, angst, anxiety attacks, panic attacks, smut, non-con smut, vaginal sex, lack of hygiene, starvation due to depressive hungerstrike.
Summary: As it dawns on you how trapped you are, you take poorly to the captivity.
Note: Allright you guys, this is officially a series. It will be 10 chapters AT LEAST!! Seeing I really got myself into it with the set-up of the first three parts, I have no idead how often I will update this. Last time I wrote a series, I had finished virtually every part before I even posted the prologue, so this is also the first time I’m writing and posting parts simultaneously. A masterlist will be made momentraily and all parts updated with it!! I’m excited!!!
Your media consumption is your own responsibility, but I advise you to not interact if the contents of the warnings trigger you. Minors DNI!
My work is not to be distributed outside this blog.
Likes, replies and reblogs are amaaaazing💞💞
You slept as if you were dead that first night, the shock to your system knocking you out cold as soon as Steve left the room.
You woke up alert, instantly remembering everything about where you were and how you got there. In the early morning sun, the room shone in a warm light, every piece of furniture and fabric looking soft, inviting - like something out of a magazine.
A surge of panic had you moving up and out of bed. You found your discarded clothes on the floor and hastily put them on, noticing you had nothing else on you - neither your phone, wallet or keys were in sight.
Didn't matter, you just needed to get out. This wasn't happening.
You made your way into the hallway and followed it down past several sets of double doors, side tables with beautiful flower decorations and little else. Your feet made no sound on the plush, mauve carpet. In fact, the house was completely void of sound. The grand staircase looked even more impressive in daylight. The ceiling had stained glass that painted the white walls in a flourish of coloured light, and the marble of the staircase felt cool under your bare feet. It was all obscenely grand, like a home belonging to someone who didn’t know who they were and had too much wealth to know what to do with. For all his mystery, you would never have imagined Steve living in a place like this. It kept dawning on you how frightfully little you knew him.
Steve had taken your shoes, maybe even as early as when he’d strapped you into the jet - or maybe you lost them running in the woods? You didn’t even remember, your mind growing hazy with the urge to get outside - to just get away.
The double-door entrance was locked when you went to slowly pry it open, and you noticed the second lock needed a key - a key that was nowhere in sight. Okay, next door, a window, anything. You moved silently through the entrance hall and into the living room, remembering how you’d come in through a back porch door the night before. You found it easily enough retracing your steps, but this was also locked with a lock that needed a key from the inside. You contemplated throwing something to break one of the huge, floor length windows in the living room, but that could make too much sound. You didn’t know if Steve was in the house or not. Outside, you saw the garden, the landing patch with the jet still on it, and around, a lawn large enough it could be more aptly described as a field, and behind it, thick forest. No buildings, no city, nothing. You had no idea where this mansion was or what surrounded it. But anything would be better than staying here.
You took a new path out of the living room, peering around corners into an office, a large bathroom, a huge library with stuffed bookshelves in dark wood, big, old chairs that looked like they would swallow you whole and lastly, a kitchen. And across from the large kitchen island there was another set of porch doors - wide open, the light drapes blowing softly in the breeze coming from outside. Your feet carried you towards it on instinct, stepping into the spacious kitchen.
“Good morning,” came Steve’s familiar voice, jolting you. Glancing to your left, you saw him, casually reclined in a chair by the dining table to the right. Great, he was waiting for you, the open doors bait.
You didn’t even halt as you marched for the door, instantly relieved as you cleared it, feeling the direct heat of the sun on your face as your bare feet touched the small porch outside, and then - deliciosuly soft and cool grass. Ahead was another mile of neatly mowed lawn and the treeline in the distance.
Steve’s booming steps sounded on the porch behind you.
“Sweetie, come back. There’s nothing but forest that way, and a very high fence you can’t climb” Steve called behind you, somewhere between amusement and exasperation.
Your heart pounded painfully in your chest. Was it true? Were you so remote? Recalling the night before, you figured any attempt to outrun him would be pointless. And a fence, enclosure all the way around, no doubt with a locked gate, if there even was a road leading in and out of this place. For all you knew, the only way in was via fucking jet plane. The pit in your chest threatened to swallow you whole, and you gulped in a fortifying breath. You wouldn’t give up yet.
Turning on your heel, you marched back up to Steve, shoeless feet not exactly intimidating in the soft grass. Reaching him, you craned your neck to stare him down. You reached your hand out.
“My car keys,” you stated, your voice surprisingly even.
Maybe if you just showed Steve that you were not going to play along on this, he would return to his senses and let you go home. It wasn't too late to just go back to the way things were. Surely you would have a, if marginal, say in this.
Steve cocked his head at you before turning on his heel and walking back to the house.
“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” he said, not even looking back as he slipped into the kitchen.
You briefly considered continuing across the lawn and into the trees, but ended up following Steve back inside the house. He’d returned to his previous seat, sipping a coffee cup. You stepped up to him, careful to keep a foot of distance between you. It was never a good idea to let Steve get too close.
“I need my car keys. I need to go to work,” you said simply. In any sane world it should be more than enough. But your stomach was turning, glooming doubt trickling along every nerve in your body.
“That won’t be necessary. I’ve already turned in your resignation, and your car is on its way to a landfill,” Steve said, looking up at you with a calm demeanor, no doubt thinking he was reassuring.
The world threatened to spin as you processed that.
“You can…you can’t do that!,” you protested. “You have no right to do that! That's my income, my livelihood!,” you said, voice coming out trembling, your throat feeling tighter.
“You don't need it anymore. Besides, a woman in your condition shouldn’t slave away -”
“B-but, how am I going to pay for my apartment?” you interrupted, mind scrambling to get a grip on your thoughts. Your heart was pounding painfully again.
Steve reached out a hand to grasp yours, too hot as it enveloped your hand completely.
“Sweetie, I thought we agreed on this last night. You’ll live here now. I’ve already terminated your lease. I can’t believe how much your landlord charged for that cupboard. It was practically a scam,” Steve said, and his tone was so reprimanding, it made you feel chastined, humiliated, like a child.
You liked your apartment, your landlord was a nice, old man - the closest thing you’d had to a friend. Sure it was a bit costly, but it was yours. Your safe place, your sanctuary…
"No, p-please," you whimpered, a sob lodged in your throat, your mind quickly collapsing on itself, anguish spreading like a puddle in your chest. "Please, don't do this," you besieged.
His hand squeezed yours as it felt like you were sinking into yourself. Bile rose high in your throat.
“It's already done," Steve answered calmly, his words like boulders pulling you down into dark gloom. "I told you, honey, not to worry about a thing. You won’t ever need to go back to that sad, dreary life you had. I’ve taken care of everything. Now, breakfast,” he ended triumphantly.
You wrenched your hand out of his. Body hunching forward, you hurled.
You hadn’t showered in days, hair greasy, smelling faintly of sweat and grime. You hadn’t eaten either. Anything you dained to eat didn’t stay down either way. The god awful nausea had settled deep in your gut, making every movement slow and strained. Steve hadn’t gone so far as to force feed you. Yet, that was.
You'd gone completely off the rails after that first fit of vomiting. The details were fuzzy, but you'd started by wrenching Steve’s cup out of his hands before hurling it to crack into a million pieces against the wall. Then you'd upended the table before Steve got you locked in his arms. He had dragged you back to your room while you screamed your voice hoarse, your feet kicking out against anything in your path, a brief moment of sweet, petty vindication surging as you knocked a vase over in the entrance hall and he groaned in responding frustration, filling the room with a cracking sound as it split open on the marble. You’d never heard sounds like that before, let alone from your own body.
Steve carried you up, not even breaking a sweat against your struggle, laying you on the bed and pinning you there until you ceased your thrashing, your howls shrinking to groans.
"I know this is challenging, darling. You'll stay here till you reach your senses again, til you become my sweet, good girl again," he said, so easily dismissing you fighting for your life.
As soon as he locked the doors behind him, you bolted from the bed and started throwing things, destroying everything you saw, knocking over furniture, tearing clothes, breaking vases, animalistic sounds ripping out of your mouth. You would be embarrassed if desperate, white hot, crawling panic wasn’t exploding through every atom of your body, seeking vengeance and rescue all at once. You hated him, hated, hated, hated him.
You only stopped when the vertigo hit you, sparks of light dancing before your eyes and your feet giving out under you.
Steve wasn’t pleased by your behavior, but for once he was so uncharacteristically non-invasive in the days that followed. He moved you to another room when you blacked out from distress, and by that point you didn’t have enough energy to throw things. It doesn’t matter anyway, the hopelessness in your chest whispered to you. The biggest fight you could muster was only a spot of inconvenience and a renovation cost for Steve.
He prepared meals for you, but didn’t go further than implore you to eat them. There were soft towels and deliciously smelling shower products from the most high end lines in the bathroom, but he didn’t force you into the shower. He didn’t touch you at all. And you ended up thinking of your lack of hygiene as a form of armor. A form of buffer that held his touch away, let you simmer in your rage - and filth - alone.
You slept, vomited, went to the bathroom, slept, cried, ate a little, vomited, slept.
Steve went away to work on your sixteenth day of no shower and limited food intake. He lingered by the bed, brows drawn down in concern as he took in your lethargic form nestled in the messy bed sheets of your room. You still wore the clothes you’d come in, having refused all of the soft, silken and plush clothes that hung in the closet, creamy and light pastel color, all in your exact size. It repulsed you, how he had so clearly pictured you barefoot and soft, mellow and compliant as you leisured around the house without any protest.
“I’ll be back in a few days. Please eat and drink something, take care of yourself. If not for you, then for the baby” he implored silently, his fingers absentmindedly playing with the fabric of your duvé. You wanted to swat his hand away.
The baby. You had completely forgotten about that. Didn’t matter though, maybe you’d lose it if you starved for long enough, and then Steve would cast you out. No, he’d promised to keep you forever in that case. Maybe you would die before that time.
You were tired, so tired, and if you didn’t move a muscle, the nausea was manageable. You’d already hurled several times that morning, heaving until spots appeared before your eyes, nothing but bitter stomach acid coming up and into the bucket by the bed.
He went away, and you stayed in bed until darkness settled outside the window. Groggily, you got up to use the toilet, your piss a dark brown as you took in the poor state of your dehydrated and famished body. Wilting so fast in your captivity.
But with Steve gone, you could breathe. And you slowly made your way down to the kitchen, finding a meal of cold pot roast with vegetables in the fridge, managing to get about three bites down before your stomach threatened to knock you out. You drank a glass of cold water, soothing as you felt it go down. Outside, the whole world was in darkness. Shouldn’t you be finding a way to escape?
Maybe, but right now all you could think about was returning to bed, to obliterating, dreamless unconsciousness. Returning to your room, you glanced inside the luxurious bathroom en suite. It had a large tub, star spots in the dark blue ceiling, a tropical shower head in the spacious shower stall and shelf upon shelf of luscious oils and lotions, hair products and soaps that smelled like something out of a five star spa.
You pressed your nose into a simple bar of lavender soap, eyes fluttering shut as the pleasant and clean scent soothed you. You looked at the shower stall for a while, contemplating. If you dressed in the same clothes and got into the same sheets, maybe Steve wouldn’t notice you’d used the facilities you swore you’d forever refuse.
Maybe Steve would die while on the job…
You undressed slowly, nearly falling as you struggled to take your hoodie off, the hassle making you dizzy.
How had you ended up here? What had you been thinking, all those months with his visits? That it would forever stay like that? Why hadn’t you run away sooner, disappeared. How stupid you’d been, just staying put like sitting duck, just waiting for him to do this. To steal you away to be kept like livestock, locked away, your previous life, your home, job, things - everything you’d worked so hard to obtain - taken away and obliterated, like dust on a shelf. Bitter tears stung your cheeks for what felt like the millionth time.
You’d worked so hard for that job, even harder for the apartment. You’d slaved away all your life, with no connections, no inheritance from your dead relatives, practically no skills or talents. Working your way up to full time at the yarn store was the achievement of your life, the stepping stone to an honest, hard working life. And now it was just gone, thrown away by Steve like trash.
The shower was heaven. The warm water battered your aching muscles, loosening your stiffened joints. Your plan of rewearing your old clothes was swiftly disregarded as the new scent of lavender permeated your floating, sated state. You trudged out of the bathroom half asleep before dumping into the messy bed, already slipping into unconsciousness.
You awoke to the sensation of warmth along your back. You lay on your side, your cover thrown off somewhere, the night air chilly on your naked skin. Something tickled your neck, pulling your hair away. You murmured, your lips not quite moving yet as you trudged the edge of sleep. Your neck tingled again, and then something distinctly hard against your asscheek tore you from your slumbering state.
You jolted forward before being promptly tugged back by a large arm around your middle. A frustrated whimper escaped you as you wiggled against your restraints.
Steve hushed you quietly, his breath tickling your ear, his lips touching just under it. He inhaled deeply before letting out a pleased sigh ending on a soft groan.
“You smell so good tonight, I hardly believed my luck finding you like this, naked and clean and ready,” he murmured into your skin, making goosebumps rise along your arms and back.
“You were supposed to be gone,” you said through gritted teeth, hands fisting in the sheets in rage.
He didn’t answer, only continued to kiss your neck, slowly unwinding his arm from around your middle, gauging your reaction all the while. You didn’t move until you felt him prod along your asscrack with his cock, leaking tip smearing your skin. That’s when you tried to bolt again, only to end up rolled onto your stomach, Steve’s hand pressing you down into the mattress as he straddled the back of your thighs.
“I’ve been patient, tried to wait. But you’re just too much for me, honey,” he said as he used his hand to prod his cock between your cheeks again, searching for your entrance. “Do you feel what you do to me? The hold you have over me?” he asked, finding your hole.
Hold? You would have laughed if tears weren’t strangling you, your whimpers muffled by the sheets underneath you. What a pathetically ironic thing to say…
He pulled back and spat crudely at your hole before unceremoniously pushing inside, making your flesh yield to him. You cried out at the sudden pain before your breath hitched in your throat. Your stomach recoiled.
Steve groaned above you, his hand moving from his cock to hold your cheeks open as he started to rock back and forth in a filthy grind inside you.
“God, I’ve missed you, you feel so fucking good,” he grunted out, and your muscles slowly seized up, stiffening against your will. You slapped a hand back on his thigh as the pain persisted with his grinding thrusts.
“H-hurts,” you stuttered out between small gulps of air.
“It’s okay, sweetie, it’ll feel good in a moment. Be good for me now,” he said, not an ounce of sympathy in his tone, too far gone in his own pleasure.
On your next exhale, it felt like you left your own body. Just went away, floated up to the ceiling, looking onto the scene like a passive bystander. You grew limp, your muscles loosening to a puddle of limbs. You weren’t there, this wasn’t real. None of it was. Steve wasn’t there, doing this, and if he was, it wasn’t you he did it to.
Steve bent down to lave at your neck, his mouth moving up to yours. You stayed limp underneath him, rhythmically rocked on the bed by Steve’s steady thrusts. He tried to kiss your mouth, but you stayed unmoving, and you could feel him grow frustrated at your lack of response.
Good, he might as well be fucking a corpse, you thought as he pried his tongue into your mouth, only managing to lick over your teeth slightly.
You don’t know how much time passed, but when Steve’s hips stuttered and he moaned his release quietly, you exhaled in relief, just longing to go back to sleep. But before you could drift off, you curled over the edge of the bed and gagged, nothing but choked air coming up.
This was what your life had amounted to. This pitiful existence at the hands of this man.
Note: Our girl’s not doing so great, unfortunately. I’m dying to know what you think of this developement!!
Steve: have you ever had any supersoldier serum in you?
Y/N: . . . No, Steve. Why?
Steve: would you like some?