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wakanda-nonsense-is-this · 1 year

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Ghost of Us — Chapter 5

Master page <last next>

This is the sequel to my book Ghost of You. Go check it out before reading this one.

Pietro Maximoff x fem! Mutant!reader

Warnings: The usual

Word Count: 1.9K

If you want to be added to the tag list, let me know :)

Pietro’s P.O.V

A grunt escaped my lips as a sharp pain shot through my ribs. Immediately, my eyes opened as I lay on the ground. It took my eyes a moment to adjust to the surrounding darkness. And once they did, I grew more confused.

What the hell happened?

My surrounding became clearer the more aware I became. The scent of pines reached my nose. The grass and dirt under my legs as I slowly sat down. The flutter memory of sweet lips on m-

The moment that thought entered my mind, I became painfully aware of the absence of warmth her closeness provided me as we fell from the sky. I scanned my surrounding but found no trace of her. Too fast, and too early, I stood up, but the moment my legs straightened under me, they gave up. Quickly, I took a hold of the nearest tree. I took a deep breath as the dizziness left my body.

I looked down at myself and was not surprised to find myself bleeding through m shirt. I shrugged nonchalantly.

It would heal.

But she wouldn't, something whispered at the back of my mind, and worry swallowed me whole. She could be hurt. No, she could be dead.

Alarms flared in my mind. Ignoring the pain in my leg, I gave one step then another until I was running the fastest I could with blood running down my thigh from something that had stabbed the flesh.

Every second that passed without seeing her, conjured images of her lifeless body laying in my arms. The images were strangely familiar and made my heart ache.

She had to be somewhere around. But she wasn't. My breaths became erratics as panic flooded my system. She wasn't here.

I put my hands on my knees and took a deep breath. Panicking wouldn't help me find her, but fuck, if the thought of losing her made my insides twist painfully. After a painful deep breath, I straightened and made to move, but the sound of branches snapping above my head made me halt.

I looked up and there she was, hanging like a damn doll from the highest point, the only thing keeping her afloat being the fabric of her shirt stuck in the branches. I felt my heart stop beating for a second as I couldn't discern from where I was if she was still breathing.

With shaky feet, I started climbing. My leg was in vigorous pain, but at least it had stopped bleeding. The higher I got, the less I could feel my leg, but that didn't stop me.

Nothing would.

Not again.

I immediately grew confused, where did that come from?

I shook my head to clear my thought. It didn't matter, I had a mission, and couldn't get distracted over concussion thoughts.

When I finally reached her, it was like being punched in the lungs. Her soft hair was coated with blood that ran down her face and chest. Bruises and scratches adorned her ghostly pale skin. A big patch of blood on her shirt caught my attention, I couldn't see the wound, but in the way it wouldn't stop leaking blood, I knew it had to be serious.

I couldn't distinguish if the movement of her chest was the breeze or her breathing, and that terrified me. As fast as I could, I crawled along the bough of the three to get as close to her as possible. I placed my hands around her waist and slowly tugged her towards me. The branches holding her uptight released her, and before she could fall, I pulled her ice-cold limp body to my chest. I didn't have time to check if she was alive, it was getting dark, and I needed to find help as fast as possible. Or that's what I convinced myself of because I knew if she was dead, I wouldn't survive it.

With her safely secured in my arms, I descended as fast as I could, avoiding making sudden movements that could worsen her wounds.

Once on the ground, I repositioned her body, one arm behind her knees and the other behind her shoulders, so I could move faster, and keep an eye on her.

I never had an issue with my healing, it was mostly fast, but it did take some time, something I didn't have right now. My leg was fucked, and I couldn't run, so I walked, and sprinted for as long as I could manage.

Darkness surrounded us as the sun faded away, bringing coldness in its absence. I kept walking, I didn't know where, I just walked. Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes into hours. We were lost, and she was hurt, and I couldn't do anything for her more than the stupid tourniquet I made a while ago.

At this point, my leg was completely useless. I knew a little rest would heal it enough, but there was no time. I was afraid time had already run out, and that the girl in my arms was anything more than a body.

It was so dark I didn't see the void in front of us. Grunts escaped my lips as we rolled downhill. I tightened my arms around my girl and didn't let go. I tried to slow us down by gripping onto something, we were going too fast to be able to make out anything but the pain of our descent.

Before I knew it, we reached the bottom. For a moment, I just lay there. My ears were ringing and my head hurt. I must have hit it with something.

A tiny whine woke me up from my disoriented state. I held my breath and waited. The body over me stirred, and a painful moan escaped her lips.

My body protested as I sat down, avoiding moving her as much as I could. Slowly, I moved her battered body, so she was resting in my lap. With delicacy, I didn't know I possessed, I cupped her face. The moonlight allowed me enough light to see her gorgeous eyes slowly peel open.

Y/n's P.O.V

Back when I was in the asylum, darkness would be the first and last thing I would see. I guess, in a way, it was a form of torture. One they knew worked wonders on me, especially before they did procedures on me.

I didn't know it then. They feared me. They were so scared they didn't dare touch me before chaining me in the dark, because they knew what the darkness did to me. They made me weak so they could torture me. The warm-up, I think they would call it.

I have to say, they really knew what they were doing. Leaving me in complete darkness for hours before they came to fetch me, gave my mind millions of possibilities to imagine what they would do to me next. Not knowing what they were going to do to me, made everything worse. Torturing me wasn't enough, they had to break me.

And they did, for many years they succeeded. But they never foresaw the variable that is called Pietro. I wish I could say he mended me and put me back together, but that would be a lie. You couldn't mend something that would break every day. So no, he didn't fix me, but he didn't have to, because he did something better. Pietro Maximoff gave me something to look forward to every day. So when he left, my world collapsed, and it was like i never left that place to begin with.

So when I opened my eyes to complete darkness being held by him, I knew I had to be dreaming, because Pietro Maximoff was no longer mine.

I was sprawled in his lap, his hand cupping my cheek as he absently caressed my skin. I tried to sit down, but the sharp pain that shot through my ribs and stomach made me cry out in pain and panic. I hadn't realized when I first woke up, but I was now acutely aware of my wounds. A sob left my lips, as the skin around my wound stretched.

“It's okay. I've got you” Pietro croaked, his other hand stroking my hair as he whispered sweet nothings in my ear.

“It hurts, Piet.”

“I know, scumpul meu. I know” His hold on me tightened as he rocked us back and forth. It really is bittersweet, that even after everything we've gone through, the only time he can hold me is when I'm on the brink of death.

“We really need to stop meeting like this” I humorlessly laughed. I really hated this, and after all I've gone through, I desperately needed a break. Wong would have a field day hearing this story, I couldn't wait to tell him all bout Pietro again. He might act uninterested, but he loved the gossip I brought to the sanctum. I smiled at the thought. God, I missed them so much.

“No, no, stay awake” I felt his finger brushing through my hair. I hadn't even realized I had closed them. “Please don't die on me” He begged, his mouth on my forehead. I was half passed out, but I couldn't help the snort that left me. If only he knew.

“Oh, believe me, this is not the way I'll die” I assured him, just before consciousness slipped through my fingers.

Pietro's P.O.V

“FUCK! No, no, wake up” I could hear the panic in my voice, but I didn't care. My hands were shaking so much, it would've been impossible to check her pulse. I rapidly lowered my head to her chest and when I heard her heartbeat, I almost fainted with relief. Without thinking, I gathered her in my arms and simply hugged her for what felt like hours.

This was the first time in the day when I knew she was alive. She was badly hurt and lost way too much blood, but she was alive.

The adrenaline wore off ages ago, but out of nowhere, energy surged through my body. The pain was still there, but it was more manageable than it had ever been. I have no idea what just happened, but it didn't matter.

With her delicate body safely tucked in my arms, I stood up and walked as fast as I could without wounding her any further. Kilometers of trees and green surrounded us, making me lose hope that I could find a place where she could rest. I looked down at my arms and noted her skin had gotten paler, and she had started shivering. I brought her closer to my chest in hopes she would absorb some of my heat.

I really had no idea where I was going, and I needed to figure it out now. Earlier I can swear I saw some birds flying north, if we follow that route, maybe we-

I stopped in my tracks and looked at my surroundings. We were the only people here, I was sure of that, but deep down I knew there was someone with us. Out of nowhere, an icy feeling overcame me, it was weird, like cold water. I absentmindedly remembered someone describing the feeling as 'having a bucket filled with ice thrown over your head'. I shook my head. I was getting paranoid.

I resumed my walking, but suddenly, as if being pulled by a rope, I headed west. I had no reason to head that way, but call it desperation or familiarity, I went with my instinct. And just when I thought I was wrong, I made a turn between some thick logs, and a wood cabin appeared in front of my eyes.

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#pietro maximoff #pietro fanfiction #pietro maximoff x reader #pietro maximoff imagine #pietro maximoff x oc #pietro maximoff x y/n #pietro maximoff x you #pietro maximoff fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #stever rogers x reader #avengers x reader #tony stark x stark!reader #pietro x reader

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inevitablysomber-dark · 1 year

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Can I request a dark Steve x Reader, total smut? He's her coworker and is always kind of bullying her for her appearance and making her feel bad about her mistakes, and the whole office is in on it, even her boss. She has to work late and ends up crying at her desk, and he takes the opportunity to jump her bones.

Sheeps Clothing

I would like to apologize for this story being so long, I saw it last night and started working on it this morning, on my phone. Up until I got home, and when I looked at the file on my computer, it was like 1.8k words.

Warning: Non/Dubious Consent?, workplace harassment, power dynamic, MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY. MINORS DNI

Summary: You try to get away from Steve, but you don't even have a chance.

"Jesus!" Someone exclaimed

You look up to see who said it.

"What the hell are you wearing?" It was Steve, and he was speaking to you

You look down at your outfit, a long flowy dress with puffy sleeves covered in a floral pattern.

When you look back up at him, you don't have a chance to say anything before your desk mate, Hailey responds.

"Hush, you know she lacks fashion sense."

"But this is atrocious.” he grabs the loose bow at your neck and flicks it."

You're surprised by his proximity and jump, causing your chair to push backward as Steve steps back, letting you fall to the ground on your side of the cubicle.

"Geez," he says

When you look up, he's standing over you, a nefarious smirk splayed on his lips, amused by your embarrassment.

It takes a little longer to get up than you hoped, especially since Steve insisted on staying in your way.

Once you've managed to get on your two feet, you dust yourself off and make your way to the bathroom, doing your best to slide past without touching him.

When you finally get there, you can feel your emotions surfacing, and you take a few breaths to calm yourself.

There was a data analyst position; Mindy, your supervisor, said that you were a shoo-in, so you applied with her blessing and reference. Since it would be in the same building, the commute would be the same, and the best part is you’d finally get away from Steve and all his little lackeys.

You were expecting to hear from them today, so you had no plans to let Steve bother you with his shenanigans. You compose yourself before returning to your desk, ensuring your demon has left your station.

***

Throughout the day, you’re checking on your emails, dodging Steve, and somehow managing to complete your tasks. Around 2:00 pm, you finally get a message from human resources with the updates for your job application.

Good Afternoon Y/N,

Thank you for applying for our job opening. Unfortunately, we cannot continue your process due to an incomplete resume. We have decided to pursue other candidates that more closely meet our needs.

Thank you for your consideration, and we wish you success in your career pursuit.

You were confused. An incomplete resume?

You go back to your file to review said application. As far as you can tell, everything has been completed, so you decide to go to HR in person to ask what is going on.

“It looks like your reference letter was never sent in,” the lady behind the desk said

“What?” you asked

“Yeah, you completed everything on your end. Your supervisor or manager just didn’t send in their reference,” she says

“ Well, what if I get her to send it in today?” you ask, swallowing a croak.

“Unfortunately, all necessary positions are filled. However, if you are still interested later on, keep track of position statuses on the site for employees.”

“Thank you,” you say as you leave.

What else could you say? Mindy had sworn to you that she would get your reference in as soon as possible, and that was two months ago when you first applied for the position.

You head to your floor, intending to speak with her as soon as you get there. She knew the reference was an essential part of the process. It was a rule that only applied to employees in the same company looking to go to a different department.

It was an opportunity you’d missed not because of your negligence but someone else’s, not just anyone, but someone in a position of power.

You were heartbroken.

When you finally got to her office, she was on the phone, but you waited because you needed to know why she didn’t send in something so important.

When she finally got off, you pounced.

“Hey Mindy, I just received a rejection for the Data Analyst position,” you stated

“Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry,” she says. “Welp, better luck next time.”

“Well, they said they didn’t get my reference….” You paused to give a pointed stare “from you.”

“Well, I can’t just put my name on anything. You know, I do have a reputation to keep up.”

“ I’m one of your best employees.” You state, “I keep up with all information going in and out of this department, I make all the data more digestible, I keep up with everyone's schedules to optimize work efficiency” your voice began quivering as you got louder and more

confident

You give so much to this department just for Mindy to stab you in the back and say that you weren’t worth it?

“Well, since you do so much for this department,” she stands, walking toward you with several manilla folders in hand, “Why don’t you digitize these files for me? And maybe next time, I’ll think about giving you a reference.” she hands you the folders and walks back to her desk.

When she notices you still haven’t left, she waves her hand at you.

“Goodbye.”

You walk away defeated.

What are you going to do?

***

It's the end of the day, and you’re working like a madman trying to digitize the files Mindy gave you.

You thought you had time to complete them. Unfortunately, Mindy conveniently left out that some of them needed to be in the system before a specific deadline.

So here you were, 8 pm, still trying to put all the information together and organize them accordingly, and you still had to be at work early the next day.

When you paused to read the time, you felt a stiffness in your throat, and your eyes began to water so much you could no longer see what was on your computer screen.

The despair became so overwhelming that you could no longer concentrate. You broke down at your desk, thanking the heavens that no one was there to see you be pathetic.

You cried harder.

You didn’t like your coworkers, they were always so mean and dismissive towards you, and Steve only worsened the situation. You just wanted to start over somewhere else, with a different group of people that didn’t know you.

“Why are you crying?” you quickly look up, and there he stands, a frown on his face as if your crying had bothered him.

You quickly wiped your tears, as best as you could, before getting up and attempting to run to the bathroom. However, Steve grabs your arm before you can get two steps out of your cubicle.

“I’m talking to you,” he says, his voice firm and unwavering.

You yank your arm from his grasp and find your way to the lady's room.

The tears just won’t stop. They were relentless as you grabbed some paper towels and started running water.

A loud thump startles you as you try to clear away the day's heartache. Of course, Steve is standing at the doorway, staring you down as if you’d just offended him.

“What do you want?” you ask, not wanting to deal with whatever offensive joke he has ready to throw your way.

He doesn’t say anything initially, as if he were thinking it through. But with a raise of his eyebrows, he asks:

“What’s wrong?”

“Like you care,” you respond.

He walks up to you and slowly backs you into the corner of the sink, his usually cheerful presence becoming intimidating.

“Try me,” he says

His challenge confounded you. Thinking he wouldn’t care, in your vulnerable state, you share what happened, minus the part about wanting to get away from him. He does something unexpected and pulls you into a hug.

You’re shocked by the sentiment at first, but you find yourself cautiously relaxing in his arms. He pulls away and carefully tilts your head back to wipe the tears from your eyes and push your hair from your face.

“That’s nothing to cry over, and you’ll have plenty of opportunities to move around different departments,” he says

It was oddly comforting, but something still felt off.

It wasn’t till he pressed his lips against yours that you understood why. You tried to shove him off you, but he only seemed more determined as his tongue invaded your mouth.

You bit his tongue and slapped him, desperately trying to gain some

control of the situation.

His face was perplexed.

“Well, I didn’t expect that,” he says “looks like the kitty has some claws,”

He turned your body so that your back was facing him, and you felt his erection pushing up against your ass.

“Do you feel that?” he asks. “That’s all you. It’s always been you,” he whispers the last part before nipping at the junction of your neck.

He pulls your dress up, and you try to pull him off, but he grabs your neck and squeezes.

“How about we behave like a good girl and put your hands on the sink?” he says, “Or I can choke you till you pass out and do as I please then.”

You do as he says

“Good girl”

He pulls your panties down to your hips and moves his hand across your bottom, a deep groan filling his throat, satisfaction purring in his chest.

You hear a zip and shuffling before you feel his cock pushing against the cleft of your ass.

You couldn’t believe this was happening, a sob escaping from your chest.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I don’t plan on going in tonight,” he pushes his member between the apex of your thighs so that it is snug between your lower lips. He groans again, moving his hands to your waist. You shivered at the contact his tip made with your love button, unsure of what his plan was.

He grips your waist, moving his cock back and forth between your lips, every movement dragging against your clit, causing a slickness to form and coat his manhood. When there was enough lubrication, he began picking up speed, moving faster, digging his nails into your hips.

You’re driven over the edge when he pulls you closer to his chest, cupping your breasts in his hands. As your body slackens, his pace quickens, trying to meet his end.

No more snide remarks or comforting words, just grunts and whimpers between you, racing to the finish line of ecstasy.

When he finally does, he finishes over the crotch of your panties and pussy lips. He takes a moment to catch his breath, and when he pulls out, he lifts your cum covered panties over your ass.

“Just a taste of what’s to come,” he says, gently caressing your crotch. He walks away, fixing his pants, and a chuckle leaves him as he exits the bathroom.

What just happened?

#Dark! Steve Rogers #Dark! Steve x Reader #Dark! steve rogers x reader #dubious consent #dubcon #fic #dark fics #request #stever rogers x reader

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specialagentlokitty · 2 years

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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…”

“Doll…”

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.

“Thank you…”

#marvel x you #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel #avengers #avengers x you #avengers x reader #avengers imagine #stever rogers x reader #steve x you #steve rogers x you #steve rodgers imagine #stever rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader

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justagirlinafandomworld · 11 months

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I saw Stace @princessmisery666 made a masterlist of all her fake fic title requests and was inspired to do the same! Thank you, Stace! 💕

I reblogged an Ask Game awhile back requesting for you to send in some fake fic titles that I would then create a blurb, drabble, or one-shot on what that title inspires.

Y'all were awesome in sending some in and while I've still got a few titles in the inbox, here is what I've written so far!

Steve Rogers

Set Fire to the Bed | 133 words. Angst w/ twist ending. requested by @princessmisery666

Sam Winchester

What More Can I Say? | 486 words. Idiots in love. requested by @ princessmisery666

Dean Winchester

Rules and Roses | 117 words. Angst w/ UST. requested by @deanwinchesterswitch

Bravery in the Depths | 314 words. Idiots in love. requested by @ deanwinchesterswitch

Sam Wilson

What You Gave Me | 144 words. Fluff. requested by @ princessmisery666

Titles Coming Soon!

Splash w/ Sam Winchester requested by @hoboal87

Before It's Over requested by @ deanwinchesterswitch

His and Her Rules requested by @ deanwinchesterswitch

When The Wind Blows requested by @ princessmisery666

Young Bride w/ Dean Winchester requested by anonymous

Feel free to send more in!

like the dividers? check out @firefly-graphics for loads more!

My Main Masterlist

#fake fic title #fake fic titles #fake fic title drabbles #steve rogers drabble #sam winchester drabble #dean winchester drabble #sam wilson drabble #stever rogers x reader #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #sam wilson x reader

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mellowswriting · 2 years

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me, humbly crawling to my lovely readers in search of requests bc my brain wants to write but refuses to give me i d e a s

no but seriously I want to write so mf bad pls help me LMAO

#bucky barnes x reader #adrian chase x reader #eddie munson x reader #din djarin x reader #frankie morales x reader #marcus pike x reader #javier peña x reader #stever rogers x reader #marc spector x reader

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rightbrainboredom · 5 months

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New Chapter Posted

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late-to-the-party-81 · 1 year

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Marvel One Shots - Canon Adjacent - Steve Rogers x Reader

Key: 🥰 Fluff 😭Angst 🍆Smut 🍑WLW smut 🌑Dark 🩸Violence 🌶 Suggestive

Steve: Private Gift 🌶 🌶

Steve x Agent reader - written as part of my 500 follower celebration

Steve: Dirty Dancing 🥰

Steve x Agent reader - written as part of my 500 follower celebration

Sharp Edges 😭🥰

Nomad Steve x Reader with anxiety

Bruises 😭 🥰

Steve x Agent reader - requested as part of my 1k follower celebration

Colourblind 😭🌑🩸🌶

Dark Steve x Reader - for Roo's Mini March Madness

A coffee from the Captain 🥰

Steve Rogers x Reader - a drabble inspired by an ask

#master list #steve rogers #stever rogers x you #stever rogers x reader #marvel fanfic

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starksbabie · 4 months

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Button

Massage Therapist!Steve Rogers x Reader - Smut Drabble

A smutty little drabble about 6'4" massage therapist Steve Rogers. I originally sent it to a friend's ask box, but I'd like to have posted on my master list as well. (350 Words) Warnings: Smut, inappropriate massage therapist, MDNI 18+ @babyjakes this is for you

You walk into his massage studio and the last thing you’re expecting is this 6’4” beefcake of a man. He smiles at you and takes you back to his room and all you can think about is how this is going to be the longest hour of your life. His hands are massive. So when you lay on his table and he starts to run his oiled hands over your body it feels like he’s everywhere.

As his hands move lower down your back it becomes harder and harder to hold in your soft breathy moans. But Steve’s a professional so he pays it no mind, at least outwardly. Internally all Steve wants is to hear you make more of those sweet sounds. So he digs a little deeper… his hands sliding a little lower. And a smirk crosses his lips as he sees you rub your thighs together under the blankets.

Steve re-covers your back and uncovers your leg. At first, he’s just working your calf, but then his hands are running up the back of your thigh his fingers running teasingly up your inner thigh getting close to where you desperately need him before pulling away to knead the muscles. The next time he works his way up your thigh you let out a breathy whimper and Steve’s cock begins to swell. Just as you think he’s going to pull away again he dips his fingertips under the sheet, gently caressing your soft folds.

You feel like you’re going to combust letting out another series of soft moans and whimpers as Steve’s skillful fingers find your clit and trace circles over it. For the first time since the beginning of the session, he speaks.

“Good girl… you want my fingers Button?” He rasps his tone much lower and more gravelly than when he first greeted you.

You nod and as soon as you do you have to bite your lip to hold in the moan as you feel two of his massive fingers splitting you open…

#onyx writes things #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x female reader #stever rogers x fem!reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfiction

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simmerandwrite · 1 year

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Sink Into Me - 02 - mob!Steve Rogers x plus size! reader

Pairing: mob boss!Steve Rogers x plus size female reader

Summary: You were simply doing a good deed, pulling the handsome stranger out of the way when a car jumped the curb. Little did you know that the life you saved belonged to Steve Rogers, the Army veteran turned art dealer with connections to the Brooklyn crime syndicate.

Steve Rogers, who won’t stop calling you his guardian angel.

Steve Rogers, whose new goal in life just might be repaying his debt to you.

Steve Rogers, who isn’t shy until it comes to his feelings and will stop at nothing to keep you safe.

Chapters: 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08

Wordcount: 6k

Warnings: canon level violence (series), body image issues (series), very brief mentions of animal abuse

Notes: hello! meet your friends - Maria Hill, Claire Temple and Wanda Maximoff. thank you all for being here and reading!! I appreciate your enthusiasm soooo much. things are :) about to get :) complicated :) if you see me out in the wild, my main blog is @simmerandcry

---

The skyline view from the floor to ceiling windows had been the real selling point to Steve taking the penthouse apartment at his latest investment property. Truthfully, he had been growing tired of the brick walls of his old place, despite their aesthetic charm. The new renters could live with that red dust now.

But the view into both Brooklyn and downtown towards Manhattan made him feel like he was exactly where he needed to be. Like he was on top of the world, his own little empire carved out in the heart of the borough. Most importantly, his apartment was his home. And that meant work didn’t come home with him, ever.

He drew that line very cleanly, even leaving the second bedroom fully intact as a guest room instead of converting to an office. Because this is where he needed to clear his head, to be Steve Rogers, the plain and simple Brooklyn born boy who loved his city.

Steve Rogers, the war veteran turned real estate mogul and art dealer, who sat at the top of what remained of an old Irish crime syndicate - that man worked on the streets, in the office, in his clubs and galleries and restaurants. That shit was not supposed to come home with him.

Though recently, it seemed to have started to bleed into what little time he spent at home. Mainly because of you and the whole incident outside the restaurant.

“Well, what’s the plan?”

“I already told you, Buck. I’m not retaliating.”

Bucky Barnes, Steve’s right hand man, his oldest friend and main confidant, the literal fist and brawn behind their organization, scoffed. “Someone sent an amateur barrelling into our territory to try and pin you between the hood of a car and your new restaurant - and you don’t want to retaliate? We coulda been weeping over your body right now, Steve.”

“I can recognize an act of aggression when I see it, I’m not an idiot.” Steve tipped his rocks glass against his lips once more, the scent of scotch lingering as he stood from the couch. “We don’t know if it was Rumlow or that new idiot creeping in from Staten Island.”

Steve rolled his eyes and cut off Bucky before he tried to add in his two cents again. “And if someone wanted to kill me, they wouldn’t hit me with a car. You know what. This was some stupid message that was poorly planned and equally poorly executed.”

Sam Wilson, who had been sipping his own concoction from the kitchen table, finally looked up from his phone and piped in. “I mean, I hate to admit it but Bucky is right. You would have been dead if it wasn’t for that beautiful woman saving your ass.”

“Sam.” Steve turned his head, eyes narrowed in a pointed glare.

“What? I’m not blind. The hips on her were-”

Steve took another step towards his friend and trusted colleague, who had a particularly loud mouth and a flair for getting on Steve’s nerves, and held up a steady hand. “Stop.”

He wasn’t inclined to admit it, but the entire thing had been replaying in Steve’s minds for days now. Ever since you had saved him on that sidewalk, throwing yourself into a dangerous situation for him, a total stranger, something had changed. He was still living, breathing, surviving. And although he was dead set on figuring out just who was driving that vehicle and ensuring they paid for their actions, it was you he couldn’t stop thinking about.

You. Who had been in the right place at the right time, who had risked your own personal safety to make sure he didn’t get hit, who was insistent that it had been an act of good faith, a simple act of kindness.

You, with the kind smile and generous curves. You, who swept off your actions as innocent and selfless, concerned more about the happiness of your dog than your own well being. You, who left Steve feeling curious and longing to get to know you, to make you smile, to hear you laugh.

God, what he wouldn’t give to have someone like you in his life. While he couldn’t stop thinking about the kind of person you were, he also had your face playing over and over again in his mind too. It didn’t help that his mom called him a few days ago, asking how you were doing and reiterating how much she enjoyed talking to you and…

“Still no news from Hammond?”

Steve knew Bucky couldn’t help but prodding, as if his fingers were itching to find a quick, efficient solution.

“He said their tech department is behind. I’m inclined to believe him but my insisting this is a priority hasn’t been successful this time. I’m trying to play nice.” Steve gritted his teeth, finishing the last sip of his drink as he stood, tugging on the lapel of his suit. “So I asked Stark to help instead. We’re meeting him at the club.”

---

The only good thing about your dreadful basement apartment was the private patio space in the backyard. You had high hopes for it when you rented the garden level unit but once your lease had been signed, everything about the place seemed a lot less shiny. From the shared laundry with the loud, obnoxious upstairs apartment to the inconsistent water pressure and flickering lights, you were counting down the days until your lease was over.

But the backyard - you had done what you could to make it a safe oasis for you and Hercules, with a few pieces of thrifted outdoor furniture and string lights making it a bit more magical. It was a nice location when hosting your girlfriends, especially when such a thing happened so rarely now that your schedules seemed to conflict all the time.

You were so grateful to have your girls. Because at any moment, they all loved to share their opinions on the weird chaos that seemed to stir up in your life. While you had known Maria since college, you had collected Wanda and Claire into your life since starting your new job in the city. You had worked as a server at the same restaurant as Wanda a few summers ago and Claire, an ER nurse, had dropped into your life by chance one night when you were stood up on a date at a bar in Hell’s Kitchen. Your group had been solid since then - although girls nights were few and far between now, with jobs and the general grind of life making it hard to get together often.

“I’m not saying the man isn’t attractive. Because I have eyes,” Maria was on her third glass of sangria, legs extended out on the brick patio outside. “I just have no reason to trust him.” She squinted down at her phone screen. “What did he say he did for work again?”

You sighed. Perhaps it was a mistake to share Steve’s name and photo - that you found after an extensive internet search - with your friends, but you valued their perspectives. It’s not like anything had happened with the guy. You hadn’t seen him since that day you saved his life and hadn’t communicated either, outside of you emailing him the stupid photo you took.

You had added his number to your phone, though. Just in case. Just in case what? You had no clue. But he had written it down for you and all.

And he said he owed you a thousand favours…

Officer Hammond, though, had reached out to you a few days after the event - asking you to come in and try and ID the driver in a police lineup. It made you feel a bit uncomfortable but you supposed it was your civic duty to do it, if it could help stop this from happening again or to help in delivering justice for wrongdoing. You pointed out the person you best recognized from your blurry memory and moved on, trying not to think any further about the situation.

Although a few strange things seemed to happen since then, if you just used your head it could all be justified. Like seeing the same black, unfamiliar SUV on your street multiple times this week. That was probably just a new vehicle belonging to one of your neighbours.

And that one time you were walking Hercules and a stranger who seemed to be lingering outside your apartment asked to borrow your phone.

Which you promptly said no to, because you aren’t dumb enough to let someone run off with your phone. But instead of going inside with Herc, you continued to circle the block until the blond stranger disappeared. You wouldn’t consider your neighbourhood the safest place after dark, but in the daytime you never felt concerned.

It was all just sort of weird.

But completely unrelated to anything else, you were sure.

That was all behind you now anyway, a strange footnote in the chapter of your life that was playing out. You’d probably never have to see Steve again, though he had crossed your mind a few times…

Okay, you had been thinking about him a lot. Which is why you had told your three closest friends about everything that had occurred.

You replied to Maria, who was nudging you with her elbow. “Oh. Uhm, he works in real estate, I think. He owns an art gallery and some apartments. Oh, and that club on Morgan Ave - Shield .”

“Sounds like a professional landlord. Thumbs down.” Claire chimed in from her chair too, shaking her head and dismissing the entire concept of Steve with a wave of her hand. “Rich at best, financially questionable at worst.”

“And he owns that restaurant the car smashed into?” Maria reached for her own phone. “The one owned by the mob. Okay, that settles it - he’s in the mob then.”

You laughed and shook your head. “The mob isn’t a thing, Hill. What’s your source on that again?”

Wanda shrugged and finally chimed in, fingers tapping idly against her wine glass as she turned towards you. “Describe his aura to me.”

You groaned, smirking as Claire rolled her eyes with a heavy sigh. “His aura?”

“You know, what kind of energy did he have?”

“Is that your way of determining the kind of person he is?” Maria got up from her chair to toss a small toy for Hercules to chase after. “I’d love to know the science between your aura theories, Wan.”

You delayed answering by grabbing the nearby bowl of popcorn and cradling it in your lap, leaving your phone and the thought of Steve on the small crate that sat between you and your friends. “He was very confident.” How could you do any justice to Steve’s intimidating Big Dick Energy without admitting your attraction to him? That last thing you wanted to do was bait your friends with any material to tease you with. Plus, really, it didn’t matter. You had no plans to ever see Steve again. And AND and, even if you did, what made you think it would be romantic in any way?

Steve was beyond hot - from the trimmed beard and deep blue eyes, to his easy charm and well dressed body. You had no doubt in your mind that the man probably had some equally hot partner. If not, he could have his pick of the entire city. There was no way you would be on his radar.

“I don’t know,” Maria chimed in once more, clapping her hands quickly. “This is the wildest meet cute story I’ve ever heard. If the man is so willing to do you some favours, maybe you should cash in on it, mob be damned. You know what they say about tall guys..”

“You just said you don’t trust him!” You laughed, tossing a piece of popcorn at her.

Maria just scooped it up and popped it into her mouth with a shrug. “I don’t trust any man. I trust you and your judge of character, though. Plus, you haven’t been on a date in forever so maybe this was some sort of fate driven happenstance.”

“The universe does work in weird ways,” Wanda agreed. “And you said he really filled out that suit so…”

“You should text him!” Claire sat up tall and straight, pushing her hair over one shoulder as an idea formulated in her brain. You were nervous. “I think how he reacts to a sudden text will be a perfect test.”

“It’s a Saturday night, I can’t text him! And a test of what? All I did was save the man’s life, there is nothing else to..” This was not how you wanted this to go. The last logical thing you could think of doing right now was messaging Steve Rogers anything. What would he think if you texted him out of nowhere on a Saturday night? “What would I even say?”

“Here, allow me.” Maria plucked your phone off the table and damnit, why did you ever tell her your passcode?

“Maria-”

“It’ll be harmless, I promise!” She glanced up from your phone and opened her eyes wide. “You need to stop playing safe. What’s the worst that could happen? He doesn’t reply?”

You sighed. YES. The fear of rejection crept up like a weird pain in your chest. “Yeah, I guess. He might think it’s a wrong number or some sort of spam message...”

“Then no harm, no foul.” Her grin grew even wider as she typed something out on the screen. She took a deep breath. You leaned over to see what she had crafted together and sighed. “It’s just a simple little push..”

---

Normally Steve would ignore then block an unfamiliar phone number, but this had been intriguing. Given that you hadn’t reached out to him at all, he had tried not to give much of his time to thinking about you. But when the text came in, without a lot of context or forewarning, he figured it was a small gamble to see how it could play out.

Unknown number [10:47PM]: hey, I need to cash in a favour S Rogers [10:49PM]: who is this? Unknown number [10:51PM]: 👀 🍑 🎁 🔄 🥞 S Rogers [10:55PM]: am I supposed to just guess what this means? Unknown number [10:59PM]: yes ;) S Rogers [11:02P:M]: it’ll be easier if you just tell me what you want, angel ;)

You hadn’t struck Steve as the type to flirt like this. If it was you, of course. He could really only safely assume, considering only a certain number of people had his phone number. And now, he finally had yours.

Tony had consolidated all the info he could find about you earlier that week. Steve didn’t feel great about asking Tony to dig into you, but since he had sent your picture for analysis after the delay at the police station, it sort of just happened. Frankly, Tony said your online presence was minimal. You were smart about keeping your social media secure and had a very thorough CV on LinkedIn. Otherwise, he didn’t have much information that you hadn’t already shared. And Steve had no intentions of doing anything suspicious with any of it, it just helped him understand who he had invited into a small corner of his life.

If that’s what he could call it. But you had crossed his mind over and over, and it didn’t help that Bucky kept bringing you up. Especially the part about Steve taking you to the clinic for help from Sarah. That resource was a well kept secret in their family and the fact that Steve took you there had been a big risk.

Beyond Steve’s unavoidable racing thoughts about you, he had been deep into a plan to deal with the actual problem - the group of idiots spilling into his Brooklyn territory. Tony had helped him with that too, finding names and dossiers on everyone who belonged to Rumlow’s extended Stryke gang causing a mess in the boroughs between Queens and Brooklyn.

For years, Steve had worked hard to make a respectable reputation for himself and now things were getting shaky. And it annoyed the shit out of him, especially when a few of the names Tony pulled were on the NYPD payroll.

“It’s messy,” Tony had said with a shrug, leaning back into the leather seat from their place at the top of the club.

Another property on Steve’s growing list - Shield was a popular nightclub in Brooklyn, which served as a perfect location for arms deals and financial transactions to float. For Steve and his old friend, tech mogul Tony Stark, it was a safe place to share theories and secrets. The upper level served as a secure hideout from the general population while the downstairs dance floor catered to obnoxious crowds looking for a drink or something else to roll on.

It was lucrative for Steve, to say the least.

“Let me know if you want me to get Rhodes involved.”

Steve shook his head. “He’s got enough on his plate. Is he ready for the campaign announcement?” Steve had a serious interest in the upcoming Mayoral election, especially if James Rhodes, former DA, planned on running. And with Tony bankrolling the campaign and some additional under the table support from Steve, it was going to be a shoe in.

“Oh, we’re just getting started, big guy,” Tony stood up and patted Steve on the shoulder as he left the corner area, flitting off in search of whoever might be going home with him soon enough.

Usually that would be Steve’s next step too, but damnit, if he couldn’t stop glancing at his phone for a response from you. Maybe calling you ‘angel’ again had been out of line. He contemplated sending another message, but no, he had to wait. He knew how to play this game.

The rest of the night carried on, with certain reports popping in with updates for Steve on what was happening out on the streets. Things like confirmed shipments at the dock and successful cash pickups. He had eyes across the whole of Brooklyn, with his growing syndicate working beneath him. Things mostly operated smoothly and this night was carrying on as normal.

Bucky showed up eventually, grumbling about getting turned down by some smart mouthed girl outside the club. Sam corroborated the story, lauding the woman and her tone.

Steve checked his phone, again.

“I saw Sharon downstairs,” Sam nudged Steve, eyebrows raised curiously. “Unless you’re off again-”

“We’re permanently off-again,” Steve rolled his eyes. “You have my blessing if you want to pursue, Sam. But good luck, don’t say I didn’t warn you..” That was all Sam needed apparently, finishing off his glass and heading back down to the dance floor below. Steve didn’t miss his cheeky grin.

“You’re thinking about that girl again, huh?” Bucky nodded and tried to hide his mischievous smirk as he scanned Steve’s face.

Steve scoffed. “No, no. I’m not..”

Bucky laughed, hard and incredulous. “I haven’t seen your head in the clouds like this in ages. Since whatsername in high school, maybe. What was her name?”

Then as if by some weird shift in the universe, Steve’s phone started to buzz. He left Bucky’s commentary lingering as he looked at the screen. You.

Ah, no text reply but a phone call? Okay, he could get on board. Standing, he headed a few steps from the lounge and brought his phone up to his ear, with a small smile. “Rogers.”

The first thing he heard was your frightened yelling. “Leave me alone! Jesus - oh my god, Steve? Is this Steve?”

He said your name quickly to confirm who he was speaking too but raised his eyebrows in concern. “What’s going on?”

“Someone is trying to - HEY! Stop -” Steve could hear banging in the background. “--trying to break into my fuckin - I’m going to CALL THE COPS! Leave me alone! Please, just..”

Steve closed his eyes, doing his best to focus on the background noise. Behind your defensive yelling and the attentive reactions of your dog, there was a mixture of other voices. Something about the voices felt familiar.

“We just want to talk.. Did someone offer you something for that statement? Was it Rogers?”

“If you tell Hammond you got the wrong guy, this will all be over very quickly, honey.”

“Walker, move, let me – Open the door, or we’ll open it for you. Let’s talk..”

“He didn’t offer me - Stop, please! I swear I -”

Steve nearly crushed his phone when the call dropped. He was off like a bullet train, shouting for Bucky to follow him as he pushed past his security guards on the stairs and rushed down towards the back exit of the club. He tried to call you back as he sped through traffic, blatantly bypassing stop signs and treating red lights like suggestions.

A heavy twisting feeling in Steve’s gut had told him that the aftermath of this entire situation wasn’t going to go smoothly. Especially with dumbass dirty cops on the inside who could share information to the highest bidder.

Steve felt a new responsibility to keep you safe, until this whole mess had been taken care of. He had plans to deal with it all on his own but now, if he hadn’t acted quickly enough and something had happened to you.. God, he couldn’t live with himself. How could he explain that to his mother?

He got to your apartment first, hoping Bucky was close behind. Steve didn’t know what he might be walking into but having backup was never a bad idea.

Steve had not only visited but had also lived in a lot of seedy neighbourhoods over the years. The street you lived on didn’t strike him as anything especially dangerous, but that thought enough couldn’t squash the unsettled feeling in his stomach as he approached. He pushed his way through the small metal gate beside the front stairs, towards the door to your garden level apartment.

His jaw clenched when he saw the damage to your door, clearly kicked in with plenty of force before being shoved closed. He glanced to the front window, nearby - that had been smashed, too. He tried to contain the growing fury and pressed on the door, calling out your name as he made his way inside.

As someone more than familiar with the real estate market, Steve could tell the bones of your apartment weren’t in the best shape. The entire townhouse was in desperate need of updating. But what concerned him more, outside of the low ceiling and old light fixtures, was what he could only assume was a new mess. Your coffee table had been smashed, creating a pile of kindling in your tiny living room. Papers were thrown about, a coffee cup sat shattered on the floor.

He called your name again as he went in, reaching inside his jacket to pull out his concealed handgun as he listened carefully. Once he stepped into the hallway leading to your tiny kitchen, he took a step back at the sudden lurch of your dog heading in his direction.

Then Steve heard your quiet voice. The dog retreated into the kitchen, planting himself in front of you as Steve turned to look in. His heart sank.

You were seated on the floor, back pressed against the wall. It was clear you were trying to hide, make yourself small. And was that… some sort of steak knife in your hand? When you finally looked up at him, your eyes were wide.

When you tried to press yourself even further back, eyeing down the gun in Steve’s hand, he slowly put it down on the counter and said your name. “Hey, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. That was just a precaution.” Shit. The way you reacted to the gun wasn’t a surprise but it made Steve even angrier. Whoever had been here, whoever had done this, well, they probably had guns too.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Steve crouched down, keeping his distance while Hercules acted as your bodyguard. He was trying everything in his power to maintain his composure but god fucking damnit, Steve needed to know who did this and he needed to deal with it. “Are you hurt?”

You took in a deep breath then just shrugged, relaxing just a fraction when Hercules circled around and flopped down to rest his head on your knee. “There were two guys, they had.. They had guns with them. They said they just wanted to talk to me, to … they kept talking about whoever the guy was who drove that SUV.” Your breath picked up as you recounted what had happened. “They..they smashed my phone and..” Slowly, you moved your hand up towards your neck, gently dragging your fingers against the tender skin on your collarbone. “..One guy he..” You winced at the memory.

The heat grew more and more in his stomach as he saw you shaking with fear, recounting whatever the fuck had just happened. How dare any of those fucking imbeciles lay their hand on you? And because of him? If he wasn’t sure of his next steps before, he was going to figure them out now. Because someone needed to pay for this.

His phone buzzed. He stood up and saw a message from Bucky, wondering if Steve needed his help inside. Steve took a step back, turning towards the front door.

“Don’t go,” you pleaded quietly, letting your hand linger in the air as you reached for him. “Steve, please..”

Steve stopped and turned back to you, giving his head a firm shake. “Sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere.”

---

A few hours ago you were saying goodbye to your friends as your sangria pitcher finally ran dry. And now? You and Hercules were in an elevator with Steve and his friend Bucky, heading to Steve’s apartment.

Everything that had just happened felt like a bit of a dream - a bad dream. A break in at your own apartment, being intimidated, harassed and assaulted by men with guns, zipping through Brooklyn with Steve as he promised you a safe space to stay for the night.

You didn’t say much to each other once you had left, but you could see the twist of concern and small decisions Steve started to make to ensure you felt secure. A hand at your back, a soft smile, extra attention being given to Hercules to make sure he was okay, too.

You hadn’t gotten into much detail yet but you knew Steve wanted to figure out who the men were who had done this. You were already dreading talking about it again. And god, you likely had another police experience coming your way. What was happening in your life and how could it go back to normal again?

“Hey,” Steve tipped his head towards the door as the elevator opened. You took the lead as you stepped out into the hallway, where just a small handful of apartment doors were spread out.

Steve’s building was a place you could only daydream about living in. You followed him through the door to his apartment, checking over your shoulder to see Bucky guiding Hercules behind you.

Bucky was incredibly kind to you throughout this whole thing, especially back at your apartment. He had patiently directed you as Steve made some phone calls, carefully standing outside your room as you packed a quick overnight bag. And he was very taken to Hercules, which you really appreciated.

Once inside Steve’s place, you made your way into the living room just past the foyer. Steve and Bucky moved into the kitchen briefly, exchanging a few hushed sentences out of your earshot.

When they joined you in the living room, they found you crouched down on the floor with Hercules. You tipped your head up to look at them. Bucky’s gaze was on his phone but Steve was watching you with a soft smile.

“Do you think he’ll be okay here tonight?” Steve took a knee on the other side of Hercules, slowly reaching his hand out to scratch behind his ear.

You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling, just a bit, as you nodded. “Yeah, he’s pretty easy going usually.” As if on cue, your dog nudged his head against Steve’s hand for one more quick pet then trotted further into the living room, flopping down on the rug between the couch and windows. “All his adrenaline seems to have worn off.”

And so it seemed had yours.

A few minutes later you were sitting on the couch, with Steve planted in the chair across from you and Bucky standing over his shoulder, arms crossed. Steve leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he took you in.

God, even in the low light of his living room, the man was handsome. Wearing just a navy blazer and matching dress pants, over a black button up with no tie, he managed to look effortlessly intimidating and strangely welcoming. Like you had no reason not to trust him, as if the dark shadows behind his eyes were a sign of protection instead of a signal of something to be feared.

You took in a long breath and leaned back into the couch.

Steve dragged his tongue over his lips then let out a sharp breath. “Okay, so I need you to walk me through exactly what happened.”

You knew this was coming. The moment Steve insisted on not calling the cops, something shifted for you. This whole situation had escalated beyond what you were used to, that whomever these men were to Steve - it probably wasn’t good.

But when you looked over at Steve, as much as you wanted to shake with worry about what might happen next, you couldn’t. Despite being way out of your comfort zone, scared out of your mind, coming down from your own rush of adrenaline, you weren’t scared. Not anymore, not in his presence and under the additional watchful eye of his right hand man.

And so you told him and Bucky exactly what had happened. How your girlfriends had left, how you were finding the next episode of your favourite show to watch, how you had some writing to catch up on and planned on staying up late. Then you heard a noise outside, then a knock at your door.

Then… well, then you had called Steve when everything started unfolding.

And after the men managed to get beyond the door and push their way through to you, you had nowhere to hide. Once they smashed your phone, you were going to comply and do whatever they needed to, to get them out of your home but then one of them threatened Hercules, and even kicked him-

“Jesus,” Bucky muttered, teeth clenched. Before he could get his true feelings out, Steve held up his hand and had you continue.

“I shoved the guy who was closest to me, trying to go for the other idiot before he hurt Herc and then..” You closed your eyes, going into vague details about how the man pushed you back, how he shoved you into the wall, the kitchen counter. How he pulled out his gun and put his hand around your throat and..

When you opened your eyes again, taking in the silence of the room as you trailed off, Steve was watching you carefully. Though you safely assumed he was an expert at hiding his emotions, you could see a twitch in his jaw. His fists rested on his knees, clenched and turning white with tension.

“One of them got a phone call and I guess they were beckoned to leave. They had enough time to make more of a mess while I cowered away but..” You gulped, shaking your head. “What if they come back? I think I should just call Officer Hammond and-”

“No.” Steve stood up, taking barely a stride to make his way towards the couch. He took a seat beside you, extending his hand to ever so gently cradle your jaw, turning your head to look at him. He said your name softly, barely.. “I’m going to take care of this.”

Your safe feeling was depleting and as much as you wanted to argue, to put a stop to all of this, to do it the correct way, you couldn’t. Earlier, when the threat was outside your door, you didn’t think of calling the police. It was Steve who had crossed your mind. For some unknown reason, you had a feeling he would help you.

Steve pulled his hand away and stood again, shooting a glance to his friend.

Bucky cleared his throat, taking a step forward. “Doll, can you tell me what the guys looked like? Identifying features?”

You wanted to ask a thousand questions about what happened now, about what Bucky was planning on doing, about his metal arm and lack of hesitation to help Steve. But you just played along, delivering all the details you could. Once you repeated it all and answered a few of his questions, you sat up and leaned forward. “Oh. One of them went by Walker. I’m not sure if that’s a first name or..”

“Last name.” Bucky gave one nod before muttering out a tired laugh. “That fucking moron.” He looked at Steve. “Okay, I know where to go. Nat’s gonna meet me downstairs.”

Steve followed him to the door and you could hear their quiet conversation once more.

Twisting your hands together, you sat on the couch with your thoughts. You couldn’t believe how your night had played out. Really, if you thought about the last week of your life you’d be hard pressed to believe it was real life. How could the simple act of getting a person out of harm’s way lead to this?

When you heard Steve’s footsteps heading back towards you, after the door shut behind Bucky, you stood up and looked at him.

Okay, you had to ask. Because a lot of this felt nonsensical, impossible even.

“You don’t really work in real estate, do you?” With the most courage you could muster you met his gaze, which was stoic as he watched you. “My friend Maria had this crazy theory and.. I don’t know what I’ve gotten myself into here, Steve. But this isn’t… I just did the right thing and saved you from being hit by a car and.. Now what? People with guns are breaking into my home and threatening my dog? And instead of going to the police.. I’m right here in your apartment - with you, a kind, handsome stranger who keeps offering to help and take care of me and I just don’t get it. Is this real?”

He didn’t falter or let his facade break when you spiraled. Instead, he motioned towards his kitchen. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

You sat with a steaming mug of chamomile at Steve’s kitchen island. His kitchen felt impressively Steve somehow too, with dark granite counters and cool grey tones decorating the tall cabinets. The light blue kettle that sat on his stove somehow humanized him even more though.

Steve opted to lean against the counter, shrugging off his suit jacket as he met your eyes. “So. First, let me just say - I don’t want you to feel like I brought you here for any other reason than keeping you safe tonight. I want you to feel safe here, with me. But if you don’t feel comfortable, you can leave. I will put you up in a hotel somewhere or if you have a friend you can stay with-”

You swallowed hard and brought your hand up. “No, that’s not.. I’m sorry for, uhm, going off a bit there. I just..” You left your mug on the island and leaned forward, balancing your chin on your hand while your elbow propped you up. You matched his gaze, somehow both honest and shy. “In college, my friends and I did this thing called honesty hour. Usually after a really late night or when we were a bit drunk. But the point is to be as honest as possible, but gentle, I guess. Feelings were always at risk but if it was after 2am, it was honesty only.”

A small smirk tugged at Steve’s lips as he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. “Okay.”

“So. Honesty hour.” You nodded.

“What do you want to know?”

“Do you always carry a gun?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“There are often dangerous, poorly- intentioned people in my line of work.”

You narrowed your eyes, pausing to take a small sip from your mug. “Your line of work - in real estate and art gallery ownership?”

Steve let out a quiet laugh. “The scope of my day to day work goes well beyond that.”

God, you had so many other questions but you had a feeling Steve was not going to share any details with you. Maybe it was better that way for both of you. Because answering some of your questions might ruin everything. “Would you rather I not ask about that? Your.. full scope?”

“I don’t think it qualifies for your honesty hour, no.”

You were ready to counter with something but you figured it wasn’t worth pushing his buttons. After another big breath, you closed your eyes. “Do you think those guys are going to show up again? At my apartment?”

The mug that had been resting in Steve’s hand found a careful spot on the counter. He took a big step forward and leaned onto the island opposite you.

Your name left his lips. You opened your eyes.

“I promise they won’t.” It was clear some things were being left unsaid, hidden behind his reassuring smile. His hand landed on yours as it rested on the table. “Trust me when I say I’ll never let that sort of thing happen again.” You looked from him, focusing on the warmth in his eyes and how his palm felt against your skin and…

“My turn.” Steve ran his thumb over the top of your hand, as if searching for the softest spot. “You called me. How come?”

You had never been so grateful to hear someone’s phone ring, because you did not want to answer that question. He tried to ignore it but the buzzing in his pocket filled in the quiet that lingered between you. Just like that, whatever that moment was or could have been - vanished. He gave you an apologetic glance as he stepped away.

You sipped on your tea, feeling more and more run down by this whole situation. You were tired, finally and Steve’s big sweeping statements gave you some peace of mind. You trusted him, that was the only thing you were certain about.

Despite everything, including the silly rumours from Maria and the broken remains of your apartment on the other side of Brooklyn… There was something about Steve that made you feel okay about all of this.

But the thought of talking any more about it now made your thoughts spiral out of control. Truthfully, you needed to sleep. And you really needed to talk all of this through in the group chat with the girls. You desperately wished your phone was still functioning.

Before you could even let your train of thoughts derail, you heard Hercules’ feet tapping against the floors in search of you. You took one final sip of your tea and met him in the living room. Your boy was ready for bed too.

You hesitated though, glancing from him to the door. He looked that way too. Maybe it would be smart to take him out one more time before you headed to bed.

Steve found you near the door and reached his hand out to stop you before you could even grab your coat. “Hey. I can take him out, if you want to get ready for bed.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Please, I insist.” He grabbed Hercules’ leash from the small entry table and rested his hand on your shoulder. “I’ve been thinking about adopting a dog for months now so this is a nice reminder about responsibilities.”

Steve’s genuine smile was unmatched and, well, Hercules just looked excited for one last moment of fresh air. “Okay, fine. For your own research purposes. Thanks Steve.”

He waved his hand and pulled on a coat from the hanging rack. “The guest room is just down there.” With his free hand he pointed down the hall behind you. “First door on the right. Bathroom across the hall.”

The minute Steve was outside the door with Hercules, you made your way to the bedroom. You nearly gasped when you opened the door, considering the space was practically the same size as your entire apartment. And god, the view from the windows. A full floor to ceiling piece of glass illuminated Brooklyn below.

The bathroom was just as impressive. After finding a fluffy towel and figuring out how the shower and faucet functioned, you let yourself get consumed by the water. Though you felt far past your breaking point, you held back your tears. Yes, the entire night behind you had been a rollercoaster. And yes, you were nervous about what tomorrow was going to bring.

But you were safe. That’s all that mattered.

Chapter 01 - Chapter 03

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x plus size reader #mob boss steve rogers #stever rogers fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfic #plus size reader #stever rogers x plus sized reader #mob boss stever rogers x reader #simmerandcry #simmerandwrite #simmer writes #story: sink into me

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goodgirlofglory · 1 year

Text

In the balance - Chapter 8: Ragged depths

Chapter 7

/Masterpost/

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers x reader

Word count: 5,2k

Warnings: non-con (series), dub-con (series), explicit sexual content, explicit descriptions of blood, graphic descriptions of violence and death, like gnarly stuff (at least as gnarly as I've ever written), smut, oral (f recieving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, pregnancy kink, breeding kink, daddy kink.

Summary: Lost in an endless, repetitive dream of luxury and pleasure in Steve's arms, finally accepting of your fate and the pregnancy you can no longer hope to terminate, you think all is safe and well - until strangers appear in the middle of the night. Though these strangers ignite fear in you, witnessing the way Steve deposes of them might be what ignites true fear in you...

Note: WOOOO CHILD, finally got around to finishing this chapter. Sorry for the wait and thank you for the patience from those of you still following this series and asking for updates. Love you🫶

A special thanks to this ask that inspired this chapter. Really, I just took dear anons idead and ran with it😘😘

This shit it DARK! Your media consumption is your own responsibility, but I advise you not to interact if the content of the warnings upset you!

Minors DO NOT INTERACT!!!!!!!!🚫

Reblogs, likes, replies and asks are amazing🦋

“That’s it, baby, squeeze my cock just like that,” Steve groaned as he pounded into you from behind. You could barely manage a gasping intake of breath as his cock hit that spot inside you dead-on and you arched your back on instinct, trying to get him deeper. Steve groaned approvingly, gripping your hips tighter as he speared you harder.

It was the third time that day, this time bent over the kitchen table. It had only taken a look and the grazing of your fingers as Steve handed you your tea. Next thing you knew, your panties were down around your ankles, your dress hiked up over your head and you were being fucked within an inch of your life, completely naked, bent over the table. The cool air from the open patio door sent goosebumps over your exposed skin, and the obscene slick between your legs squelched in between Steve’s grunts and your gasping moans. Steve had his pants down around his ankles, and he was bent over you, mouthing aggressively at your neck.

You whined as another pounding wave of pleasure rippled through you, threatening to take your knees out. Steve’s hands wound around to your rounded belly, stroking over the bump and groaning against the nape of your neck, pushing his face into your hair and taking in greedy gulps of your air, and you flushed at the aggressive way he was smelling you, your hormones no doubt driving his frenzy higher.

“You’re so gorgeous like this, all round and heavy with my baby” he growled, and the ownership in his voice made you keen. “Walking around like this, letting me see just how much you’ve grown from my seed inside you,” Steve said, nibbling on your ear and the skin below it in a proprietary way. You flushed hot from the top of your head down to your toes, trying to hide your rapidly heating face, the way his praise washed over you like silk, making you thrust your hips back to meet his pelvis.

“Mmm, did you like the sound of that, baby?” Steve teased, smiling against the clammy skin of your neck, hands coming up to cup your bouncing breasts, teasing the puffy nipples and you wailed, completely beyond words. “Did you?” Steve asked again, slowing his hips down just a tad despite your sound of protest. “Answer me, sugar,” he said sternly, pinching your nipples between thumb and forefinger and your pussy throbbed, a sign you were spiraling towards the edge despite Steve slowing his thrusts. His words whirled around in your mind along with the hormonal arousal constantly begging for release and the way his warm skin felt on yours, the primal position of your fucking, the guttural sounds he made as his hands ran over your pregnant belly while his cock, hard as a rod, pounded into your yielding, wet flesh.His cock was so hard, and you knew you were dripping to the floor.

Flushing even more profusely, you could only manage a nod, your mouth opening to desperately pull in air. Steve kissed your cheek with an open mouth, messily, moaning approvingly, but he didn’t speed up his thrusts again, and you were about to go insane, your body tense and shivering.

“I need your words, honey, do you have a few words for daddy?” he asked, sickly sweet as one of his hands moved down to lightly graze your swollen and pulsing clit. You nearly lost your footing again, knees shaking as he teased your clit with his fingertips, hips moving steadily, jolting you forward before you moved back to meet his thrusts, mindlessly seeking more friction to bring you over the edge. Your head was completely empty of coherent thought and he knew it.

He fucking loved when you got like this, it reminded him of those first times in your apartment, when you’d gone from a shy, terrified little bunny to a drooling, wet, empty-headed, cum-hungry whore just from his cock and words alone.

He grazed your clit with his fingertips again and you shouted, head hanging low in your embarrassment. “Yes! I l-liked it,” you practically wailed to the floor. Steve cooed appreciatively, voice laced with the tiniest amount of degradation, but didn’t speed up his thrusts and you wanted to throw something.

“Yes what, baby?” he asked pointedly, the hand not teasing your clit to insanity coming up to turn your head up and back to catch his eyes.

You moaned, feeling the weight of your belly shift with his thrusts, his fingers holding your pleasure so neatly just beyond your reach as they ghosted over your nub, his eyes demanding you lay your soul bare for him, give yourself completely over to his will.

“Yes, daddy,” you whispered, tears springing to your eyes at the way rolling shivers of pleasure rippled through you at saying those words, at being made to say those words, to him, while he held your gaze with his stare.

He growled, eyes holding yours in a tight grip as his hips finally picked up speed, rapidly increasing to the pounding he did before, slamming against that spot inside you you could never reach yourself.

“Good girl,” he growled, his fingers pressing to your clit, rubbing fast circles and you whined in almost alarm at the pace of which your orgasm welled up inside you. Your whole body tensed up, pussy squeezing Steve’s cock to the point of pain and he gasped. Your orgasm exploded inside you, pulling Steve right over the edge with you.

“Fuck, just like that. Here it comes, baby,” he gritted out and then you felt the hot flush of his cum shooting inside you, his cock pulsing unevenly as he fucked himself through it, never slowing down. You knew what he was aiming at.

Completely unable to stop him or yourself, your belly and the weight of both yourself and him pushing down and the way his cock kept ramming you in your post-orgasm sensitivity had you wailing as another string snapped. You squirted, a huge gush that exploded from you and coated both your thighs and Steve’s before splattering to the floor.

Your body convulsed, only held up by Steve’s strong arms as your mind short-circuited from the pleasure, eyes glued to the sight of your juices wetting the floor below you.

Something had changed in Steve since that first time he fed from you and fucked you at the same time, a tether snapping. He no longer even tried to control his desire, his demand for your body, your mind, your entire being. He was, in a word, unhinged. His hands practically never left you, always stroking, groping, gripping, rubbing, smacking your ass lightly and pinching your seemingly perpetually peaked and sensitive nipples playfully, smirking like a cat at the way you shivered. The touches would range from light, reverend grazes, like he just needed to reassure himself you were there, and possessive, tight squeezes, like he couldn’t handle not being inside you a moment longer. He usually didn’t wait long before pushing your dress up, tugging your panties off or just to the side and sheathing himself inside you with a brutish grunt. You, in turn, were so swollen and aching and needy - you couldn’t stop him even if you wanted to. You needed him, needed his cock, needed him to push you against the nearest surface, keep you there while he took the edge off for the both of you - until your hormones sent the both of you into a frenzy again.

Later in the evening, Steve had you riding him on the couch. It had started as a lower back massage, but they rarely stayed that way nowadays. Steve was as insatiable as you, and along those first times, your enthusiasm had loosened his tongue. Now he couldn’t seem to keep his praise in, making you flush hot or preen or go all shy from the filth that spewed from him.

“Yes, that’s it baby, ride that cock, take what’s yours. You want my cum, baby? Want to milk my cock while I milk you?” he asked on a gasp as you bounced on him as good as you could with your belly rounded, still shiny from the oil he’d rubbbed into it earlier. He bent forward and took one of your leaking nipples into his mouth, his cock throbbing inside you as he fed from you while looking up into your eyes through his thick, long lashes.

“Fuck,” you gasped as he groaned, the vibrations going through your tender flesh, and sweat covered your brow as you spasmed on his cock, pussy helplessly clamping down. Steve gasped away from your breast, your milk leaking out and soaking his beard as he bent up to kiss you with a mouthful of milk. He seemed to like feeding it back to you, making out while the sweet taste of it lingered between you, completely obliterating any line of decency, sending you head first into heady depravity in that same possessive way he’d always done.

“Here it comes, baby, make sure to keep it all in for daddy,” Steve murmured against your lips before he came, and you were helpless against the lewdness of the new nickname he’d given himself, and how much you secretly liked it. You came with a cry along with him, his thumbs slowly teasing your sensitive nipples, just lingering there, covered in white milk.

You were floating on the heady cloud of pleasure Steve kept around you at all times. Really, you had nothing else to do all day but wait for your pregnancy to advance, and you both seemed content to just fuck all day, every day. You wondered if Steve missed his job, missed the outside world. You didn’t, had stopped longing for it once Steve had made you see that the only safe thing to do was to be with him. You had everything you needed with him, anything you could want for. Steve loved and took care of you, the mansion provided every piece of food, clothing and entertainment you could wish for. Honestly, if there was anything you were desperate for, it was not to go back to those early days where all you’d been was obsessive, desperate and miserable. Once you saw the only path away from that was with Steve, you’d accepted it, and then the fog of pleasure he’d thrust upon you had wiped out any resistance.

Steve fucked you everywhere. Under the trees in the garden, mouthing his way down your chest, taking each nipple into his mouth and laving them in generous licks before kissing his way down your rounded belly, stroking it tenderly while kissing it over and over like he just couldn’t believe it was there. It was heady and intense, this obsession with your bump, and you almost felt overwhelmed by it, by the magnitude of his devotion, by how proud and primal it made him. Steve feasted on you. He groaned against your flesh, alternating between sucks and small, teasing licks until you came on his tongue before slipping his cock inside while you were still spasming, a possessive hand on your belly as he rutted deep inside you.

He fucked you in the shower, joining you in the morning and teasing you to delirium, tweaking your nipples until they were tender and erect, rutting his cock against your lower back until you bucked back against him, slipped a finger down to tease your ass as he thrust into your weeping cunt, drawing orgasm after orgasm from you while whispering filthy nothings into your sensitive ear and made you call him daddy.

You’d catch him watching you with darkened eyes as you waddled along, a hand on your aching lower back, and you’d be all too aware of his keen eyes as you carefully lowered yourself into a chair or the sofa with a groan. Seeing your body changing to adapt to your growing belly seemed to ignite this primal hunger in him, and his hungry stare would in turn ignite shivers on your skin, your own arousal awakening to meet his. He’d ambush you in the hall and go down on you while you leaned against the wall, your moans echoing into the grand staircase.

“So wet for me, doll. Are you this wet for me?” he’d ask, hot breath gusting over your clit, and all you could do was nod, tugging on his hair to bring his face back to your puffy pussy.

You welcomed it all. Craved it all. Spent less and less time in clothing, spent more time initiating touches with him. A hand on his chest as you passed him in the kitchen, a brush of fingers over his as you passed him your empty teacup, a deliberate press of your toes against his bulge as he massaged your feet. Anything to incite the desire that welled inside him like a feral tidal wave. Giggling when he gave you that downright hungry gaze before pouncing on you, pressing you into the cushions as much as was comfortable for your bump before peppering your neck with kisses, groaning what a tempting little siren you were.

You didn’t know how much time passed like that - in this pleasure limbo with Steve, where all you did was fuck, eat, sleep and occasionally monitor your pregnancy symptoms. You had one more appointment with Dr. Banner in the clinical office set up in the basement, where he declared you healthy and stable like before. Steve preened and squeezed your hand, all proud and pleased, his other hand stroking lovingly on your bump. Your bloodwork came back with interesting results too, but you understood none of it. Steve reassured you all you needed to know was that everything looked fine - better than fine. You were in tip-top shape and the baby was strong and healthy.

You’d grown to like stroking your bump yourself now, your hand going there of its own accord. It was hard not to get fond of it with the way Steve doted on it, the way he loved you for it, so sweet and reverent, nothing like the harsh and dominating way he’d sometimes been in the past. There hadn’t been any movement in your belly yet, but you trusted it would come soon, a part of you hoping Steve would be there when you first felt that kick. A part of you started to wonder just what life would be like once the child was born.

Life in the mansion mellowed out to a hazy, pleasure-filled dream, the days melting together even as you passed your seven months milestone of the pregnancy. It hit you that even if you gave birth now, the child would probably survive. When you’d told Steve he’d kissed you soundly, grinning from ear to ear while telling you it’d probably survived a lot earlier than this, considering it was his baby. You found yourself swatting his arm reproachfully for his cockiness, but couldn’t contain your smile as he laughed and insinuated his face into the crook of your neck to kiss your skin, pulling you closer to him so your bump was firmly pressed against his chiseled torso, warm and snug.

Though Steve was adamant you get enough sleep, you would sometimes find yourself awakening in the middle of the night to him kissing down your body, hungry and heady. You never complained, you were so fucking horny all the time it didn’t take long before you were keening needily for him, writhing on the sheets as he licked and sucked at your pussy. Tonight was one of those nights, and the moonlight cast a silvery blue light on the calm bedroom as Steve kissed over your bump, broad hands lifting it, helping you turn to lay on your back so he could get in between your thighs. You sighed, arousal welling up like a wave inside you, slow and sluggish and pulsing languidly as he pressed his face to your mound and started licking your clit teasingly.

Breathy sounds escaped you as you lay there, half-asleep still, riding the pleasant sensations coursing along in your veins. Time slipped away from you in these dreamlike hours, and you were getting into it, moving your hips as much as you could to help create friction on your needy parts when Steve’s head unexpectedly and abruptly disappeared from your wet cunt. Thinking he was teasing you, you lifted your hips in search of his mouth when his hand on your hips stilled you, hard and urgent.

A ping of alarm set off in the back of your mind, and you opened your eyes to peer down. Steve was on his knees in the bed, head turned towards the open doors to the bedroom, so still it was almost like he was a statue. Something was off.

“Ste-” you started to ask, but was cut off by him turning his head and lifting a finger to press to his lips, eye stark and wide in the silence of the night. You could hear nothing but your own breathing.

Steve crawled up the bed to speak close to your ear, and you were astonished by the fact that he made no sound whatsoever, his limbs in the sheets didn’t even seem to make any noise. Distant questions of Steve’s profession whispered in the far expanses of your mind, questions you hadn’t pondered in months.

“Stay here, don’t make a sound, I’ll be right back,” he whispered in your ear. You nodded, a kernel of fear catching on fire in your chest. It wasn’t like you could run very well in this condition. You remembered that first night he’d appeared in your apartment, the wound on his shoulder, how he said he’d gotten it from some man with a sword.

Steve got out of the bed, only clad in a pair of gray boxer shorts and padded on soundless, bare feet to the door, peered subtly out into the hallway and then disappeared.

Your heart was a rapidly growing thump in your chest and you lay as frozen as you could, listening and listening, straining to hear even a single thing in the dead silent night.

Then the sound of an explosion sounded from the far side of the mansion, and all at once, the sound of shouts, gunshots, wood breaking and glass shattering filled the air. The blood in your veins turned to ice as sudden, unexpected fear spread in your body. It was happening on the lower floor, but you still felt the sudden panic of danger like a clammy film on your skin, constricting the air around you til you couldn’t breathe properly. Steve told you to wait here, to keep quiet, but as more explosions and larger sounds of shouting sounded, you found yourself propelled out of the bed, movements slow and halting as you moved with your heavily pregnant body. You were completely naked, and as you padded over to grab your robe from the hook near the bathroom door and slung it on, a booming sound of helicopter blades whipping the air appeared quicker than should’ve been possible.

Then the room was flooded with harsh light, and you whirled around to see several bright spots of light outside the window across the room, whipping to the bed before moving around the room. You knew instantly you needed to move, to not let those searching lights find you, and instinct had you bolting through the bathroom and into the hallway through the separate door. Just as you entered the hallway, the sound of splintering and exploding glass sounded from you and Steve’s bedroom and you had to cover your mouth with your hand to not scream in terror.

You needed to hide, or find Steve, but from the sounds of commotion still coming from the first floor, it sounded like he was occupied fighting several people at once. You ran up the corridor and slipped into the closet at the end, right by the staircase, cramming inside with an array of coats and suit jackets. Your breathing was out of control, heaving, wet, raspy sounds as you fought back tears, your heartbeat in your ears.

Who were these people? Why were they doing this?

You heard footsteps pounding down the hall along with shouting voices. You couldn’t hear them clearly, but caught someone telling another that there was “someone here with the target”. You tried to remember if their searching lights had hit you before you ran into the bathroom, but no, they’d had to have seen your clothes or something. Had they come for Steve, then? Why?

Footsteps descended the staircase and you took in a shaky breath, mind fighting the way you threatened to freeze up in terror. You were safe here, they hadn’t seen you. You just needed to wait it out until Steve took them out. There were so many of them, though, and your legs almost fell out from under you at the thought of Steve not making it. How could you possibly make it on your own then? Terrorizing thoughts filled your mind, of ending up alone after all you’ve been through, alone on the streets, or worse, kidnapped and used for experimentation for the child in your womb - your child.

Suddenly the door to the closet was wrenched open, and you came face to face with a figure clad in stealth gear, face entirely masked but for his eyes, dark and glaring, massive gun in his hands. He made to grab at you before his eyes shifted down and widened. He staggered back a tiny step as he beheld your pregnant belly, and your hands came up instinctively to cradle it, as if you could protect it that way.

“G forty eight,” the figure said, still staring down at your body, “found another subject. Woman. P-pregnant, sir,” he said, and there was a tiny tremor in his voice that you didn’t like, like he was pleading for something.

You stood there frozen staring at him as he listened for whatever answer would come in what you assumed was an earpiece of some kind. But as he made to grab you, grip so tight it hurt around your plump, upper arm, your fight reflex kicked in and you shoved at his chest with everything you had, a small shout of “no” escaping your lips.

To your utter astonishment, the figure flew back from the force of your shove, clean off his feet and then right down the grand staircase. Your eyes widened to the point of pain as you stood, stunned, and watched his limp form sprawled lifeless at the foot of the stairs.

Had you done that?

You had no more time to ponder what had just happened. Movement in your peripheral vision had your head whipping to see another masked figure clad in stealth gear appear from your bedroom, running towards you. You had nowhere to run but down the stairs, and on slow, naked feet, you started the descent, for you knew whatever you did, you could not let them get their hands on you. Maybe if you got to the garden you could hide in the abundant shrubberies and hidden pathways. You knew them by heart, and could easily navigate even in the dark of night.

But as you got to the foot of the stairs and started across the floor towards the living room, you were stopped dead in your tracks by the sight of Steve, still only clad in boxers, fighting two masked strangers at once. He landed a brutal punch to the jaw of one, and you could hear the crunch of bone from where you stood several meters away. Steve turned and kicked the other man in the knee, and your head spun as you saw the knee crack back at an unnatural angle, the man wailing in pain. Steve turned to the other one and grabbed his arm, twisting it clean around without even seeming to try and then threw the man into the nearest wall. The wall had a dent in it as the man slid lifeless to the ground. Steve’s face didn’t even flinch as he dealt all this carnage, his face a smooth mask of calm concentration, and you could feel your stomach churning to a knot as you watched, eyes glued to your man, your sweet, loving, doting man, completely obliterating these strangers, dealing injuries they would probably live with for the rest of their lives. Your blood started roaring in your ears, the room spinning slightly from the onslaught of what you witnessed.

As Steve went to grab the man with the broken knee, a hand clasped around your arm, breaking you out of your frozen state of observation, and you were pushed down. You slid to your knees, the marble hard under your kneecaps as you cried out more in fear than pain. The man pulled a gun from the belt at his waist and pointed it at you and your life flashed before your eyes, your lungs completely deflating, unable to pull in even an ounce of breath in a sensation of petrified fright you’d never felt before. A sound somewhere between a wail and a whimper left you.

“Stop or else she gets it,” the man shouted.

You blinked your eyes, trying to get them to focus, and found Steve, splattered in blood, fists clenched at his sides, staring at the man above you with a sort of menace that had cold shivers running down your sides, sending your instincts into a frenzy. There was death in those eyes. Stone cold, calculated, immovable death.

The man with the broken knee staggered behind Steve, pulling out a sharp knife that glinted in the dim moonlight pouring in from the windows above the main doors behind you. Your eyes followed the movement, but then struggled to keep up as Steve turned, grabbed the man’s hand and turned it upwards to jab the knife into his own throat. You jolted at the impact, the gurgled gasp the man gave through the mask. Then, Steve moved quicker than humanly possible, and when you next registered his position, he had the man above you by the throat.

The gun pointed at your head skidded across the floor away from you, and when you looked up, you were first met with the gnarled angles of the fingers on the hand the man had held the gun with. Then, as you raised your eyes, heart in your throat, you saw Steve wrench the knife out of the throat of the man.

Hot blood jetted out of him and you felt it rain across your face and body in warm, soft splatters. Petrified, mind glossing over in terror, you couldn’t move an inch as Steve, eyes wide with a sort of feral, inhuman fury you’d never seen before, punched his hand into the open gash in the man’s throat, and with a roar, tore his head clean his shoulders with his bare hands. A shrill shriek tore itself from your throat.

A wave of blood spouted from where the man’s head had been and drenched over you, covering your hair, your face and running down between the open flaps of your robe to cover your naked form. You barely managed to close your eyes in time, but your mouth and nose were filled with the unmistakable, overwhelming taste and aroma of warm iron.

Your mind stopped working then, shutting down completely in order not to take in more of the slaughter around you. Time slowed to the sluggish beats of your heart, and Steve’s voice was a far away thing as he called your name. He picked you up and carried you somewhere, but your mind couldn’t decipher where, your body numb and far away from you. Darkness closed around you. Your hands were cold.

You didn’t realize Steve had locked you in the cupboard under the stairs before he wrenched it open some indiscernible time later and carefully picked you up and carried you up the stairs.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I needed to check if there were any more of them,” he murmured into your head as he carried you into the bathroom and sat you down on the edge of the bathtub before starting the water.

“You hid me in the cupboard?” you heard yourself asking, though you couldn’t remember telling your mouth to move.

“Yes.”

“I tried hiding in the coat closet earlier,” you said, and your voice was a hoarse, timid thing, barely perceptible to yourself.

Steve appeared before you, eyes gentle as he cupped your face in a hand.

“You did? Well done, that was a clever thing to do, even though I told you to stay put,” he said.

“They came in through the window,” you said.

“I saw. We’ll put you in your own room tonight. But first we need to clean you. Can you stand for me?” he asked, so gentle compared to the brutal, animalistic way he’d dealt with the strangers, how he’d pulled…pulled the head…

You couldn’t finish that thought, only nodded as Steve helped you onto unsteady feet, peeled your soiled robe off you and guided the both of you into the shower. The blood washed off you, coloring the water a faint rusty hue before it whirled down the drain.

After, Steve lowered you into the bathtub, gently scrubbing your shoulders with a loofa. He didn’t get into it himself and you realized first later that he was probably on alert in case anyone else showed up. No one did, the night was eerily quiet again.

When Steve had you dressed in a silky nightgown and put you to bed in your old bedroom, the sheets cool and soothing on your skin, you found your voice again.

“The baby is okay,” you whispered, cradling your belly in your hands again.

Steve stroked your hair and smiled gently at you.

“I know. You told me earlier.”

“I did?” You couldn’t remember having said anything about the baby, though your belly felt completely normal, settled and calm, a sturdy weight on your front compared to the way the rest of your body seemed like frayed fringes of nerves and flesh flapping on an invisible wind.

“Yes, right after. You probably don’t remember since you’re in shock right now,” he said, before sitting down on the floor next to the bed and grasping your hand in his. “I promise I will never let anybody come that close to hurting you again. I’m gonna hunt down anybody that even tries, and gut them. No one will hurt you. Ever. Not as long as I’m around,” he vowed, and the way his eyes shone with a feral intent, so intense you nearly broke away from the eye contact, told you he wasn’t kidding.

Dark unconsciousness took you without contemplation, sucking down your frail mind and numb body to sleep. When you awoke, Steve was sitting on the bed, fully clad. The bright light of the sun in the room told you it was day, and when your mind came to completely, you heard the milling of voices all throughout the house. You jolted instinctively, but Steve’s hand on your shoulder halted you from bolting from the bed.

“No, sweets, it’s okay. They’re friends, colleagues, here to investigate,” Steve said calmly, and your hand came up to cling to him as you tried to steady your rapidly beating heart. “We’re moving. To a safer place,” Steve explained further, and then movement by the door caught your eye.

A man, as tall as Steve and as bulky if not more so, with dark, shoulder-length hair and a faint stubble on his chin, stepped into the room. He smiled politely at you and inclined his head at Steve. His eyes were blue, soft and kind as they looked back at you.

“Y/N, this is my friend Bucky,” Steve said gently, “he’s gonna be helping us out.”

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wakanda-nonsense-is-this · 2 years

Text

Ghost of Us — Chapter 3

Masterpage <last next>

This is the sequel to my book Ghost of You. Go check it out before reading this one.

Pietro Maximoff x fem!Mutant!reader

Warnings: Ghosts, mention of the smell of bodies in decomposition

Word Count: 2.5k

If you want to be added to the tag list, let me know :)

“Listen up folks,“ Steve announced seriously, after many hours of uncomfortable silence and glances in the jet. He stood in between Clint and Tony in the cabin and gazed at us at the back. His eyes lingered on me at the back away from everyone for a second, his eyes shone with pity and guilt, I tightened my fists in response. “We’ll be landing in 15 minutes. You know the drill, we get in, get the information, and then out. Is that clear?“ His stern gaze told everyone not to mess it up.

“Good. Clint, you wait here with Banner in case of any emergency. Sam, Tony, you’ll be our eyes in the sky.“ There was a pause right there that made me look at him in wariness and the look in his eyes made my stomach sink. No.

“Pietro, Y/n, you’re together.” Everyone gasped and the air filled with tension. I refused to acknowledge his presence and kept looking forward as his gaze burned the side of my face.

“What about me?“ Wanda protested, her eyes dancing between mine and Steve’s faces. Mine must have shown mortification but his only determination.

“You’re coming with Bucky and me, we need you in case anything is blocking our way.“ Steve explained, his voice apologetic.

“But...“

“But nothing.“ His voice was stern, authority laced his words. They stared at each other, a will battle happening between them. Huh. He must have won as Wanda averted her eyes and huffed under her breath.

That was our cue to prepare everything we would need for the mission. I strapped the vest tighter, struggling a bit. After all, when I accompanied Strange or Wong to missions I would wear more of a magical kind of protection. I double-checked my boots and made sure the enchanted daggers that Strange gave me when I started training were at my side. I flipped them in my hands and hid them in my black suit. If we were to encounter any danger these would take care of it.

The jet was abnormally silent. One could slice the tension with a knife. I raised my head and caught Wanda analyzing my movements. I raised an eyebrow in question. What the heck was her problem with me? She sighed with a pained look on her face and approached me. Pietro watched our interaction with a frown.

“If something happens to my brother because of you I swear on my life I’ll destroy you.“ Wanda growled, bitterness taking hold of her words as she glared at me. I blankly stared at her and cleared my mind from all thoughts, just like Strange taught me in case I ever encountered someone like her again.

She scrunched her eyebrows in concentration, and by the looks of it, she was trying to get inside my head but failed to see anything important. I smiled tightly, thankful for Wong’s constant nagging on meditation. That didn’t mean she couldn’t read my thoughts, it just meant she would only see what I wanted her to. But as Wong explained, there will be times when she’ll be able to infiltrate my head if my mind is weak. Like the day before.

The plane landed and not wanting to hear anything else from her I walked past her. She wasn’t worth it.

“Scared little Y/n, always running away.“

Wong was always on and on about being the bigger person. He said that’s the way to a healthy and stressless life. But Wong’s not here now.

I loosened a little bit of the control I had over the death and fed them enough power to make them tangible but not visible. Spirits have their own will and can’t be controlled but necromancers have such a tight relationship with them that some tend to follow orders when offered something in exchange. They approached her and I saw the moment Wanda realize we were not alone. As a telepath, she’s more perceptive of death but can’t quite feel it. She may not be a necromancer, but she’s still a witch. I heard her gasp and saw her eyes turn red. She should know by now her powers were useless against them. There was no running from them.

“If you ever threaten me again,” I whisper in her ear, “we’ll destroy you.“ I smiled sweetly, knowing Stephen would’ve high-fived me if he had been there. I got off the jet and made my way to the group. The sense of victory lasted around 2.3 seconds because Tony was approaching me, an unreadable expression on his face. He stopped a meter away from me.

“We need to talk,“ Tony demanded, his face hard as marble. I opened my mouth to argue we had nothing to talk about. And maybe send him to hell while I was at it, but the sudden tickling feeling at the base of my neck and the out-of-nowhere appearance of an arm resting on my shoulders shut me up.

“You ready for the best night of your life partner?“ His messy and overgrown hair tickled my cheek, making me lose any perspective of reality and leaving me speechless. I was completely aware of every part of our bodies touching. It felt familiar. Odd, considering that the only time we’ve ever been this close, I was partly dead and mostly unconscious.

His hand tightening his hold on my shoulder brought me back from stupid land and made me aware of the expectant look on his face. I threw him a bewildered look, confused at his actions, but unable to separate myself from him. A closed small smile formed on his lips as our eyes met. His warmth made me feel at ease. I wouldn't be surprised if I started purring. Instant horror filled me at the thought. I was pathetic.

He grinned as he could read my thoughts and winked.

Oh.

He was giving me a way out of the heart-to-heart convo daddy wanted to have. I winced at the mere thought. Resigned, I looped my arm around his waist and held him too. Surprising him by how his body tensed and then softened under my hands. The action brought me more pain than relief. It shouldn’t be like this.

“Yep, let’s go.“ I smiled tightly looking up at him, but he just stared me in the eyes. I heard his breath hitch and felt his chest tremble once. Suddenly, the burning sensation on my ribs made its appearance. For focusing on the cause of the ache at my side I completely overlooked the quiet groan of pain Pietro let out.

“Y/n-“, Tony started but was interrupted by an annoyed-looking Sam. “Let’s go, Tony. We don’t have all day.“ He cursed under his breath and stared at me regretfully, “We’ll talk later” and with a last look, he made his way to the whining falcon. I released a breath in relief and stepped away from the not-so-dead guy beside me. The pain disappeared instantaneously. Convincing myself it was just a coincidence I walked to Steve, who was distributing the earpieces and took one.

“Be careful, kid.“ His baby blue eyes made it impossible to be rude to him. I tried to smile and assure him I would be, but the red aura surrounding the base told me otherwise.

***

“Y/n, anything on your side?“ Steve’s voice came through the earpiece. I felt Pietro’s eyes on me once again.

“Negative.“

It’s been around 30 minutes since we parted from the team and we were yet to find anything useful. The base being enormous and falling apart didn’t help us go faster either. Every turn we made or every room we entered was either destroyed or blocked by debris. I was getting annoyed, and Pietro’s useless presence and his obvious staring were not helping. We made another turn but we were again stopped by a destroyed wall. I groaned and hit my forehead on the wall in frustration.

“This is useless. We’re not going anywhere.“ I grumbled kicking the wall. Defeat weighing on my shoulders.

“No shit, Sherlock.“ Pietro’s useful input made my blood boil. He may not see the aura but I could. Every corner, every single piece of debris was painted red. Just once have I ever seen anything like this and Strange and I almost died. I faced him ready to hit that beautiful smile off his face but the distant sound of footsteps halt me in my steps.

“Did you hear that?“ I whispered lowly, praying I had imagined it. I knew we had to find spirits to complete the mission. That didn’t mean I wanted to.

“Hear what?“ Pietro’s eyes searched mine for answers and whatever he found made him go pale. A shiver ran down my spine and I gulped. They were here.

I ignored him and silently started walking in the direction of the echo. At this distance, all I got from the spirits was that he was alone. That was the tricky part of red auras.

“You’re scared,” Pietro stated knitting his eyebrows, “why are you scared?“

“I’m not scared.“ I lied blatantly. I was pooping my pants, I would be stupid if I wasn’t afraid after the last time. But he didn’t need to know that.

“You’re tapping your fingers against your thigh.“ He said matter of factly as if it was common sense. How did he know that? I stopped doing it immediately.

“What?“

“You always used to d-“ He stopped himself before he could finish, leaving me shocked. He frowned and looked even more lost than me. My eyes widened and against my will, they filled with tears that I refused to let go. I felt the air being knocked out of my lungs as if I had been kicked in the gut. I knew he didn’t remember me, so why did he keep doing that? It was cruel.

“I- I don’t know why I said that.“ He stammered running a hand through his hair. I sought his eyes but he wouldn’t meet my gaze. I stared at him, praying he would look back at me in the darkness of the place and would recognize me. It didn’t happen. My mouth opened against my will but the same sound of footsteps stopped me. Right, the mission. I straightened up as much as I could and cleared my throat. The sooner we finish, the faster I’ll be home; all this will be just a memory.

“This way.“ I cleaned my voice of any emotion and walked ahead of him towards the creepy noises. He stood frozen but moments later he walked beside me. Silence embraced us. I hated it, but I grew to accept it. We were no longer right for each other, and nothing I did was going to change it.

We entered a new sector of the building. I gagged at the rotten smell of... dead. I covered my nose and breathed through my mouth. If the smell wasn’t enough of a hint then was the aura that grew more visible around every surface. I gulped. The dim light of our lanterns didn’t do much but gave us just enough clarity to distinguish our surroundings. The walls around us were moldy and partially destroyed. It was so dark even with lanterns I could barely see anything beyond my hands. The sound of our footsteps echoed in the walls around us giving the place a creepier vibe.

“Keep your eyes open, we’re close.“ I warned in a whisper, not wanting to disturb the dead. There was a second of silence.

“Can you really see them? Ghosts.“ Pietro clarified, I could barely see him but I just knew his eyes had rounded in curiosity. It used to be the cutest view back in the asylum. He somehow misunderstood my silence for an invitation to keep talking. “I’ve heard some things from the others but...“ He left his sentence unfinished but I knew what he meant. ...nobody really knows what I can do.

I hesitated for a second and consider not answering but something pushed me to do it.

“Yes, I can see them.“ He kept quiet out of surprise that I actually answered or fear about what I can do. I hoped it wasn’t the last one. I played with my fingers in anticipation.

“There’s no way you can get any cooler right now.“ He gushed, awe evident in his voice. I whipped my head in his direction. I could see the outline of his face and noticed his childish grin. A surprised laugh left my lips and couldn’t help the feeling of warmth in my chest or the tiny tears of laughter that appeared.

“You’re so weird.“ I said cleaning my tears with a smile on my face. He turned his head in my direction and smiled sweetly at me. His eyes softened, recreating the exact image of the Pietro I knew.

A ray of light blinded us out of nowhere. We shielded our eyes but as fast as it came, it left. We looked at each other and without a word being exchanged we ran after it. We reached the end of the aisle and turned left, at the distance, we could see the light turning right and disappearing into another corridor. At this pace, we were going to lose it. Pietro must have thought the same because one second we were standing on an empty aisle and the other, he was standing outside of a door carrying me bride style. With my arms around his neck, we stared at the light coming from the bottom of the door. With slow movements, Pietro put me down carefully. Giving him one last look I turned the knob and light flooded the dark corridor.

Together we entered the new room. The walls were bare but unlike the whole building, there was no sign of ruin. In the middle of the room was a box. But it wasn’t the box itself that caught my attention rather the name written in bold letters on the side of it. Not Y/n Stark, but Y/n Khalida. My necromancer’s name. I was petrified. I could feel my blood pounding in my ears, and sweat running down my back. This wasn’t right. There’s something wrong.

“We gotta go.“ I ordered, taking Pietro’s hand and running to the door but at that exact moment, it closed on our faces. I ran to it and tried to turn the knob but it wouldn’t move. I hit it once, twice but it didn’t even vibrate. The room turned completely red. And then I felt it. We were no longer alone. And when I turned around the spirit wasn’t the only one waiting for us.

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