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sarahowritesostucky · 3 months

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📖Make it Stick: Pt. 3 The Knight

Rating: Explicit

Chapter Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Bucky x ofc x Steve

Word Count: 3195

Tags: dark!fic, mob/mafia au, mob!Bucky, mob!Steve, dubcon/noncon, sexual coercion, half-sibling incest, m/f/m, non-con drug use, mentions of torture (non graphic), double penetration, forced tattooing, forced orgasms, enemies to lovers

Summary: When his babygirl—his sweet pea, little one, puppy ... half-sister—is recaptured after her latest attempt at running away, Bucky makes a power play in front of the entire Bratva to remind her exactly who she belongs to.

Dark and smutty content below the break. Consume responsibly.

Wait! I haven't read part 1, part 2!

“Nnn, pl-please…”

Her gasp is hardly audible this time, she’s so out of breath.

Panting from the way the second orgasm’s just ripped through her. And she’s crying still, but only just. Not like before. Because now the pleasure’s overtaken most of the anger, all of the fear, and even some of the humiliation. Bucky pulls his hands from her and delicately eases her panties back into place, smooths her little slip of a dress out for her. He looks up from his spot on the floor.

Her chest heaves with her breathing, the underside of her breasts—beautiful and natural under the silk—on full display for Bucky from this angle. And, Christ, her nipples are pebbled up, just begging for attention. Bucky sees Steve refixing his hold on her waist to support her because she’s gone so slack. She’s shaking against him, his body practically the only thing keeping her vertical at this point.

Inside his pants, Bucky is … uncomfortable. He slowly pushes up from where he’s been kneeling in front of her, coming back to stand at his full height and crowd in close again. He cages her between his body and Steve’s, hands landing on her waist right alongside Steve’s own. “Shh sh sh,” he hushes, mockingly tender. “Don’t you want to say thank you for your orgasm?” He leans in so that the words are whispered against the side of her head. He’s staring at Steve as he says it, and when Lena’s mortified, overwhelmed little whimper comes in response, he doesn’t miss how Steve’s mouth twitches at the corner. Steve likes to play the white knight—and maybe he sort of is, compared to Bucky, but even still, he’s no sweetheart. And he’s enjoying the heck out of this. “Are you hard?” Bucky whispers, and he feels his sweet puppy’s body stiffen between them as she figures out who he’s talking to.

“You have to ask?” Steve answers, the rumble of his voice no doubt felt against Polina’s back. She makes another little outraged cry when Steve presses forward, driving his erection against her backside and pushing her more tightly up against Bucky.

Bucky, who helpfully slots his thigh back between her legs. She shivers as her sex is pressed up against him, going stock still to avoid any stimulation. Bucky coos down at her. He lets go of her waist and cups her face with one hand, tucking her hair behind her ear with the other. “Aw, princess,” he murmurs. “You sensitive now? Hm?”

She sniffles and nods her head. She’s been much more forthcoming ever since the suppository and the pill worked their way into her system. Behind the glossy sheen of her tears, her pupils are even wider and darker than Steve’s. It’s hardly taken any work at all to get her to come twice for him, she’s so keyed up.

Bucky tuts lovingly and brings the still buzzing vibrator up in front of her face. He twists the base, turning it off. Lena’s whole body slumps between them with relief, and Bucky chuckles. “Don’t get too excited. This might not be over for you.”

“W-what …” she swallows dryly. “What do you mean?”

“You still have a choice to make.” Bucky taps the little bullet vibrator against her lips. “Open.” She clamps her mouth shut stubbornly, so Bucky shrugs and rubs it over her instead, smearing her own release onto her lips. He leans in and slots his mouth over hers, licking the taste of her right back. “Mmm,” he hums. “Somebody’s been drinking their pineapple juice.”

She’s glowering at him when he pulls back. Bucky licks his lips like he’s savoring the last taste of a fatty meal. He can tell from the look on her face that he’s actually right: she has been drinking it. He feels a rush of fondness mixed with anger come at that—Fond, because it’s proof that she takes even his smallest teachings to heart.

“No, seriously. That’s why I have a glass each morning. It makes cum taste sweeter. … Pussy, too.”

Anger, because it’s not him she’s been drinking it for.

He forces the latter emotion away with a deep breath and a long exhale. He doesn’t have to be angry, because nobody but him is ever going to taste that pussy again. … Well, almost nobody but him. “Okay, little one,” he sighs. “Time to make a choice.” He reaches around her and tucks the vibe back into Steve’s pocket. Then he looks down and meets her gaze.

Her pretty blue eyes are wide but dazed, high from the drugs coursing through her system. Bucky smiles and cups her face with both hands. She’s so fucking beautiful, with her round little face and plush lips, her pretty blue eyes. They’re near arctic in color—closer to Steve’s cornflower blue than Bucky’s own muddled blue-grey. Sharp and clear, like ice underwater, and positively gorgeous when they’re crying.

Lena sniffles and Bucky’s heart twinges with affection. He leans in and kisses her cheeks, cleaning up her tears. “You need to listen to me now, Polina,” he murmurs, feeling her shudder underneath his touch. “Are you listening?”

She whines a little, not able to give up completely on her stubbornness, even now. Bucky loves her so goddamn much. She tries to squirm in their hold again, but as soon as her over sensitized clit bumps Bucky’s thigh, she’s calming back down. “What?” she asks quietly, sniffling and trying to put on a stiff upper lip. It’s cute.

“It’s up to you, how this goes,” Bucky tells her. He looks over to his right and catches the eye of one of the widows. It’s Belova. He jerks his head for her to go and get the supplies that are waiting in the wings. She disappears and reappears with a rolling tray table of tattoo supplies. “This,” he says to Lena, “is what’s happening.”

She squints in confusion at it for a second or two—the tray of gauze and ointment, inks and gloves and gun—before her eyes register the stencil and read it … and go wide in realization. She jerks in their hold, thrashing, tossing her head back against Steve’s chest in another vain attempt to hurt him. “No!” she huffs, the sound breaking into a pitiful whimper at the end, despite her bravery. “No, you can’t!”

Bucky waits her out, and sure enough, her little tantrum dies down. She cries, and he wipes those tears away, too. “Shh,” he soothes. “It’s not so bad.”

“It is!” she cries. “I hate you. I hate you!”

“You’re a smart girl, Lena. You can’t tell me you didn’t always know you’d wind up here.” He tilts her chin up when she refuses to look at him. Her tearful, angry eyes meet his, and he offers her a tender smile. He gives her another kiss, just a peck on the lips, this time. “I always get what I want, sora mica,” he murmurs, right against her lips.

Little sister.

She shudders underneath his touch but doesn’t shirk away, and Bucky preens because he knows the war that’s going on in her head right now, even if she’ll never admit to it. Revulsion, mixed with lust, and darkness, and something too close for comfort to love. It’s what he used to feel, back before he decided to give up on conventional morality altogether. Poor little Lena, though, he thinks sadly. She hasn’t gotten there yet. Oh well, she’s young, she’ll learn.

“Now,” he tells her, thumbing over the familial cleft in her chin. “You have two choices, sweet pea. You ready to listen to ‘em?”

She grits her teeth and purses her lips in an angry little moue, stubborn thing, though she capitulates when Bucky tightens his grip on her chin. “Yes,” she whispers tightly.

Bucky smiles. “Okay. Now, two things are happening, no matter what,” he says, raising a warning eyebrow at her. “You’re getting this tattooed on your body … and Gleb back there is going for a long swim in the Hudson.” He waits her out while she throws another hissy fit over that, tears leaking and eyes burning up at him. Bucky sighs and looks off to the side until it’s over. Then, when she’s slumped back against Steve again, all tuckered out, he continues, “If you hold still like a good girl, I won’t take your dress off in front of all these people, won’t force any more orgasms outta you down here where everyone can see. And Gleb’ll get wheeled off to his morphine and an easy death. No torture, just the widow’s bite—lickety-split, no fuss-no muss.”

He watches as her eyes flare and her face crumples with suppressed emotion. She composes herself faster this time, though, and he continues softly, drawing her lip down with his thumb. “But, if you make things difficult? I’ll have you squirting all over this floor before I knock you out and ink you while you’re unconscious. And Gleb will have …” he looks off to the side, as if trying to parse out his words, “... mmm, he’ll have a very stressful weekend.” He tilts his head and narrows his eyes, squeezing her chin sternly enough that it smooshes her cheeks the barest bit. “Are you gonna be good?”

She looks torn for a second or two, but then her eyes slip closed in defeat. In Bucky’s hand, she gives the tiniest of nods.

Bucky’s pleased, but he wants more from her. “Tell me,” he commands. “You’re gonna hold nice and still?”

She sniffles and nods again. “Yes,” she breathes. “I’ll hold s-still. I’ll … I’ll be good.”

Her meek response satisfies him. Feeling a sudden wash of tenderness towards her, he leans down and presses their foreheads together and whispers, “Thank you, little one. You know how I hate to see you struggle.”

She shivers against him but doesn’t throw out any bratty quip. She keeps her eyes down, avoidant. Sighing, Bucky pulls back and steps aside to have a word with Belova. He tells her his plans for Gleb, and she gives a sharp nod and heads off to handle it. Bucky knows then that he can put the idiot man from his mind for good. The widows will more than take care of him.

Bucky returns to Steve and Lena, ready to get to work. Really, he’d prefer Natasha to be the one doing this. Bucky’s no amateur with the gun, but he’s not as good as she is. Oh well. He has a steady hand, and the design is extremely simple. Just that one phrase, in cyrillic:

собственность дракона.

Translated roughly, it means: Property of the Dragon.

“Steve,” Bucky says. “Sit with her on the bench. It’ll help keep her calm.”

Along with the cart of tattoo supplies, a rolling stool, a bench, and a padded armrest have been brought over from the Red Room. Steve all but lifts Lena and brings her over there, straddling the bench first before pulling her to straddle it in front of him. Bucky goes about setting up, snapping on a pair of black vinyl gloves while Steve wraps his arms around Lena’s waist and murmurs quietly into her ear. Bucky smiles at the pair of them. Steve cares about Polina, too, has known her for almost a decade, and he’s always had a knack for calming her down. A good thing, since Bucky’s so naturally gifted at riling her up.

He sits on the stool and scoots over to them. Lena watches him warily. Steve’s used both his and Bucky’s discarded ties to bind her arm down at the wrist and at the bend of her elbow, in case she gets second thoughts about her promise of good behavior. Bucky’s mouth quirks at the ingenuity, and his dick twitches at the optics. He’ll have to take a picture, one he’s got the ink in. A shot of her arm; reddened and bleeding with his mark, and his and Steve’s neckties framing it. Fuck, he might jerk off to it sometime.

He spends a minute getting the ink prepared, and then he carefully cleans her inner forearm and applies the stencil. It’s small but long, stretching almost the full length between the ties. It’ll take a good hour or more in its entirety, but Bucky isn’t a sadist: His little one has been through a lot, and they’ve got a long night ahead of them once they take her upstairs. Bucky wants that time to be spent mostly in pleasure, not pain. They’ll just do the outline, for now.

Lena whimpers when the paper peels back from her skin, revealing the design left behind. “Bucky,” she pleads, though one look up at him and her begging stalls. Bucky gives her a grim, apologetic look, and she knows. She knows she’s not getting out of this. She whines lowly and turns her face into Steve’s shoulder.

“Shhh,” he soothes her, his big arms wrapped tightly around her waist, comforting and restraining all at once. “You’ll be fine, hon. This is how it has to be.”

Bucky settles himself and the gun, then turns it on. Soon, the buzzing fills the small space between the three of them. In the background there’s still the noise of the club: music, chatter, bodies moving around. But in their little corner in the back, it almost feels private now that they’re centered around what Bucky’s about to do to her. “Okay, malyshka,” he murmurs, waiting until he’s got her full attention. “Watch the gun. Don’t want you jerking around in surprise.”

He’s a little taken aback by the emotions that hit, as he brings the needle down and starts inking her for the first time. He’s marking her permanently, branding her as his in a way that will never wash off, and from which she can never escape. And despite her tears and the ties binding her arm down, she is sitting there for him, allowing it. That goes straight to Bucky’s cock as sure as anything else he’s ever done to her, and he spends the rest of the session focusing on each line and curve, putting the red ink underneath her skin and trying to work out what it is that’s twisting up in his gut so bad. There’s lust and possessiveness, that much he expected, but there’s also a certain amount of … melancholy? Maybe. Whatever it is, it’s there too. A feeling of resolution, of an era coming to an end. Arousing and yet oddly bittersweet.

Lena’s fist is already clenched when he starts, but he can see her body stiffening further as the burn of the needle really sets in. Her arm flexes and her fingers curl harder into her palm, the veins popping against the strained lock of her inner elbow. Steve keeps up a gentle litany of praise and reassurance in her ear, half of which Bucky hears and half of which he misses due to his own focus on the gun. He’d love to take Steve’s place, be the one to hold her and comfort her through this, but that’s just not possible because he simply doesn’t trust anyone else to do the work.

He’s even glad that Natasha refused to do it, at this point. Because this isn’t just any tattoo. It’s personal and intimate. A promise as good as any wedding ring. Probably better-than, in the fidelity it’ll enforce. Not on Lena’s part, poor thing, but on the part of any man who might dare to entertain the idea of an affair with her. One look at her arm, and that idea would go straight up in smoke. These red words are branding her for life, in more ways than one. It’s only right that Bucky be the one to do it.

“Almost done,” he murmurs when he’s finishing up at her wrist. It’s the most painful area, and he regrets saving it for last. But his girl does beautifully and keeps relatively still, sometimes hissing or whining in pain but never asking for a break, and never twitching enough to throw Bucky off course. He finishes the outline and sits back, setting the gun aide on the cart and reaching for the salve. He smiles at his little one, who by now has stopped crying. “Good job, sweet pea,” he praises softly.

Her defenses are down from having all of her focus on something other than him for so long. She only blushes a little when he uses the nickname, and says nothing snarky back. Bucky’s heart pulls with it. In Steve’s lap, she watches as Bucky uses a tongue depressor to apply the salve in long, smooth strokes over the raw areas. She blinks at her arm like she’s fully waking from a dream. “... That’s it?” she asks, sounding surprised, maybe even disappointed—though that’s probably just Bucky’s wishful thinking.

“For now,” he tells her, bringing out the non-stick pads and adhesive wrap. He’s giving her all the aftercare that he’s neglected on himself—already the back of his neck and shoulders feels tight and unpleasant, and he doesn’t want the same for her. Steve pulls the ties loose to release her arm, and Bucky explains, “You have delicate skin, sweetheart. We’ll let this heal, fill it in another time. Add some other design elements, if you want.” He catches her look of surprise and smiles, then looks away before her expression can shutter on him. He gently applies the pads along her skin, wrapping her up in an opera glove’s length worth of neon pink animal print bandaging, nice and tight. “There you go.”

“Cheetah print, really?”

“Just special for you, my little hellcat. Don’t worry, you can take it off tomorrow.” He rolls out on the stool and goes around to stand just in front of the bench. Briefly, he meets Steve’s eyes, and they have a short, non-verbal conversation, at the end of which Steve nods smally in agreement. “Okay,” Bucky says, reaching out to palm Lena’s face.

She automatically goes to shirk away from it, but Steve whispers something in her ear—Bucky doesn’t hear what—and it makes her settle. She bites her lip and peeks up at Bucky through her lashes and ruined makeup. “I was good,” she whispers, like she’s half-sure Bucky’s going to revoke his end of the deal.

He tries not to let it show on his face, how that hurts him. “Yeah, sweetheart. You were very good.” He bends over to kiss the top of her head, then turns and searches out Belova. She’s standing next to Maximoff now, over at the bar. Bucky goes over and holds out his hand. Pietro shakes first, Yelena second. “Thank you,” he tells them. “For bringing her back safely.”

“Again,” Yelena says with a smirk and a semi-suppressed eyeroll.

“You should get a leash,” Pietro jokes.

“Or a homing beacon.”

Bucky waves them off (though the homing beacon idea has occurred before), telling them to go back to their drinks and enjoy their evening. He doesn’t bother asking if the Gleb issue’s been dealt with—he knows from the look on Belova’s face that it has.

Part four

Masterlist

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 10 months

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All the Good Girls Go To Hell 9

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

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

Summary: You come home for the summer but your break is not as relaxing as you expect.

Character: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

Note: Look, I can’t stop myself.

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

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

Love you all. Take care. 💖

There’s a drilling in your skull. Splitting and cavernous. Your eyes slit. Too pained to open them fully to the deadly sheen of sunlight. What’s going on?

You groan and drag your hand up beside you. Your muscles hurt, your body is like sand, you feel as if you’re moving through mud. You touch your forehead and lift your eyelids a little higher. The room is blurry but you recognise the fuzzy shapes around you. You’re at home. Safe.

You rub your head for a moment then reach blindly over. You feel around until you find your glasses, already unfolded on the night table. You put them on, still laying flat. You stare at the ceiling as you gather your strength.

You remember dinner. It was awkward and you couldn’t wait for it to be over. But nothing else comes after Steve went to get dessert. You can’t recall.

You push your hands into the mattress. Your arms shake as you lift yourself, sitting up only to hunch forward, stomach stirring violently. Ugh, you feel awful.

You look down at yourself. You don’t even know the last time you wore these pajamas. They’re almost too small. The tight white top with the daisy in the middle and the matching shorts that show a bit too much of your ass.

That question persists; what happened? Something had to have. How could you forget almost a whole night? You don’t know how you got to bed or how you got changed or anything. You just don’t know and that scares the shit out of you.

You turn and hang your legs over the side of the bed. The task of standing is daunting. You feel hollow and weak. You slide closer to the edge until your toes meet the floor. You grip the night table and get up, staggering slightly.

Your feet come down heavy as you cross the room. You can’t help it. You can barely raise them enough to walk. You clutch your stomach and lean on the door as you open it. You go across to the bathroom. You have to pee so bad it hurts.

You roll down your shorts and sit, letting out the pressure with a sigh. You feel hot down there, a little irritated. Relieved you stand and fix your shorts. You wash your hands and look at yourself in the mirror. You are an absolute mess.

You go back into the hall. The fabric of the tee is rough against your nipple. Goosebumps rise on your skin despite the humidity caught in the space. You lumber to your doorway, rubbing your sickened stomach.

The hinges of your mother’s door groan and you lean your shoulder on the wall as you face her. She scowls as she stands in a robe, her eyes groggy, and her posture slumped.

“You’re up,” it sounds like an accusation as she comes down the hall, “about time.”

You’re confused by her anger. You don’t understand. Something must have happened.

“What do you–”

“You can start by apologising,” she sneers.

“What? I didn’t–”

“You did. You chased Steve off last night. You made a real fool of yourself, you know that? And me too.”

“No, I can’t– I don’t remember–”

“Oh, you don’t remember? You don’t remember?” Your mom barks. She’s never spoken to you like this. You flinch and cling to the trim of the doorframe. “No wonder. Sneaking wine behind my back. I was generous enough to let you have some and you go and do that. Get drunk and insult my fiance–”

“Fiance?” You blink, “how– you aren’t even divorced.”

“That’s paperwork,” she hisses, “and besides the point. You humiliated me. And you upset him. I can’t believe you.” She grimaces, “I can’t believe you’re acting so innocent. I know you were buzzed but there’s no way you blacked out. You know what I’m talking about.”

“Mom, I don’t– Mom!” You round your eyes wide, “I didn’t sneak any wine, I swear. I barely finished the one I did have. And then it’s all…” your heart drops, it couldn’t be.

“What? What are you saying? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“He put something in the wine. Steve, he–”

“No, enough. Stop. I will not hear it. Do you understand me? You don’t blame your bad decisions on him. Got it? And that sort of accusation, that’s rotten. I didn’t raise you like that,” she snarls.

“I’m not lying–”

“Oh, you’ve gotten real good at that,” her nostrils flair, “he told me about the boy you’re texting. Yeah, he saw the alerts on your phone. You’re not very coy. I should ground you for the summer–”

“Ground me? I’m nineteen–”

“Then act like it. Maybe I can’t, but I don’t wanna see you. Not for a while.” She looks away as tears wobble in her eyes, “maybe you should call your father.”

“Mom.”

“I have to go and see your aunt. I’ll be home around noon. I don’t want you here. Go hang out with that boy or your friend.”

You gape at her. She won’t even listen to you. Won’t give you the chance to explain. You don’t even know what you did and she won’t tell you. How can you make it better if you don’t know?

“Please–”

“I mean it,” her throat constricts and she looks past you, “when I’m ready to talk, you will apologise. Not just to me, but him.”

You open your mouth but quickly snap it shut. You know there’s no arguing. Her mind’s made up. You saw her like this very few times in your life, mostly with your father. She always got her sorry.

You step into your door and watch her go by. She doesn’t glance back as you stand dumbfounded. Your head throbs as you try to sort through your thoughts, to follow any thread that leads back to last night. Nothing.

You spin slowly and close your door. You tramp over to your bed and sit. As you do, you feel a hard shape against your thigh. You grab it and untangle your phone from the blankets. You flip open the screen, your face triggering it to unlock.

You don’t have any new messages, at least, no notifications for any. You pull up your conversations and see Bucky’s convo at the top, labeled simply, N’s dad. He sent several texts before eleven.

‘Was thinking you might want to come for another swim some time soon. Maybe you can give me some tips on the dating game.’ Followed by: ’Hope dinner’s going well.’

Several other messages with the same sentiment. You’re just happy he didn’t send anymore photos. You hid the other ones he sent in the chat.

You swipe away from his conversation. You search your contacts for your dad’s number. You hit the phone icon and put it on speaker, cradling your head as it pulses. To your surprise, he answers on the first try.

“Hey, what’s going on, kiddo?” He says from the speaker. You hear noise around him, like cars and young voices; children.

“Hi, dad, I was just… checking in.”

“Oh yeah? Haven’t heard from you. Summer treating you well?”

There’s whispering. He mutters something you can’t make out as the microphone scuffs.

“It’s good. I was just thinking I should come see you. We can catch up.”

“You know what, honey, maybe in a few weeks. I’m taking Sharon and the kids up to the lake–”

“Sharon?”

“Yeah, when we get back, you can come meet her…”

You tune out as he goes on. Sharon, the kids. Hers, by the sounds of it. And they’re going to the lake, just like you used to.

“Honey, honey…” your dad repeats and brings you back.

“Sorry, uh, that sounds fun. I… you sound very busy. I’ll call you back.”

“Alright, love ya,” he chimes.

“Love–” the line cuts.

You stare at the ended call and toss your phone beside you. You hang your head, rubbing your temples as you hear the same word echoing. Honey, honey, honey. But it’s not your dad saying it. It’s a low raspy voice, droning over and over as a tickle flutters in your core.

You whine and shake your head. You don’t have much choice. Who knows, Naomi, despite her flaws, has always listened. And you told her, you’re starting over. You made your boundaries perfectly clear.

⛱️

You don’t go straight to Naomi’s. You’re still not sure about it. Not just her, but Bucky. You hope you’re not giving him the wrong idea. You haven’t really encouraged him. You don’t think.

You stop and hit a drive thru to grab lunch. You drive down to the park and eat behind the wheel of your car. You still don’t feel right. You feel off. Like something is missing. Almost as if days have passed since you were last conscious.

You finish your food and drain the last of your milkshake. You shove the garbage in the paper bag and hide it behind your seat. You shouldn’t show up empty-handed.

‘You’re the first friend who doesn’t just come in, get what they want, and leave.” Bucky’s words come back to you. It explains a lot about Naomi, actually. You treat others how they treat you and all that.

You head towards the suburbs. It’s well after noon. No going back home. Not yet. Your mother usually needs time to cool down.

You see a big sign shaped like an ice cream cone and you pull into the lot. You’re close enough that the sundaes will last until you get there. You order two banana splits and carry on. Maybe Naomi will just let you sleep all day. As heavily as you slept, you feel like you didn’t rest at all.

You pull up the drive and stop behind the range rover. You get a wave of deja vu as you get out of the car and take the sundaes from the driver seat. You set off for the front door and nearly shriek as the figure that pops up from behind the roses hedges that edge the tiled walkway.

Bucky holds a pair of gardening shears in gloved hands as he greets you with a hearty laugh.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, his skin glistening with sweat.

He has no shirt on and damp strands of hair dangle around his face, free from the ponytail pulled behind his head. You calm yourself and force a smile.

“No problem, um… didn’t Naomi say…”

“Oh, yeah, it’s fine,” he waves off your explanation, “so how was dinner? Special occasion or something?”

“Um, not really. Well, my mom had her boyfriend over. She wants us to get to know each other,” you shrug, “her and my dad are divorcing so… it’s awkward.”

“Ah, been there. Twice.” He cringes and clicks his tongue, “it’s a lot of work being married. Dating, too. All of it.”

“Uh, yeah,” you try to ignore his allusion to the chat, “well– oh, uh, I got you something. Um, I didn’t wanna just come over.” You open the bag and carefully lift out one of the plastic container, “sorry if it’s a bit melted.”

“For me?” He acts like you’re handing him a pile of gold, “wow, thanks,” he takes it, “you didn’t have to– how did you know I love banana splits?”

“Lucky guess,” you arch your brow, “well, er, I have one for Naomi too so I should get that to her.”

“What did do to deserve you, doll?” He grins.

“Um,” you look down and fish around in the bag again, “a spoon too.”

You hand over a plastic spoon and he accepts it with another thanks. You hold your tense smile before you turn and climb the steps to the door. You peek back as you hear him pop off the lid. His blue eyes are on you.

You turn and twist the handle, letting yourself inside. You slip off your shoes and call Naomi’s name. You carry the bag inside with you as you get no answer. You go further and further. She sweeps out from the hall.

“Ah, you’re here!” She squees and claps her hands.

“Yeah,” you say, “I brought ice cream.”

“Oooo,” she grins and bats her lashes prettily, “perfect. I have the funnest day planned for us.”

“Great,” you say as you hand her the bag.

She takes it and twists on her heel, leading you to the kitchen. She takes out the container and examines the content. The spoon falls onto the counter and peels the wrapper off.

“I can’t eat all this alone,” she looks at you, “grab a spoon from the drawer.”

“Oh, I already–”

“Please, I can’t eat if you’re not eating. That’s rude. And hon, didn’t we agree that we wouldn’t be rude?”

You nod and wring your hands, “yeah, I guess.”

You look in three drawers before you find a spoon. You got to stand beside her as she saws through the banana with her fork. You take a small scoop of the ice cream.

“So, it’s going to be so awesome. I wanna take some photos. For my social media, you know? And you can help me. Also, you can keep an eye out for B– my dad,” she rolls her eyes, “he snoops so much.”

“Photos?” You swallow.

“Eee, it will be so fun!” She says giddily, “and then we can play a game.”

“Like, uh, a card game–”

“Truth or dare,” she smirks, “it’s always fun, isn’t it?”

“Oh, I… I’ve never really played.”

“Even more fun,” she slides the spoon into her mouth and sucks it clean with a hum. She pops her lip off of it and licks them clean, “you can ask or do anything you want.”

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evansbby · 2 years

Text

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 {𝐩𝐨𝐲𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞}

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dark alpha!Steve Rogers x naive omega!reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut, dark!Steve, daddy kink, misogyny, alcohol consumption, mentions of: inebriation, dubcon, noncon, innocence kink, thigh riding, dry humping, public sex, a/b/o dynamics.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Steve takes his omega to her first college party. (A drabble for my fic, preying on you tonight. This drabble is set after Steve mates with omega, but before she finds out she’s pregnant.)

“Steve, I’m kind of scared.”

The words fall past your lips in a soft whisper, and you clutch harder onto Steve’s hand, practically burying yourself beside him as you both make your way towards the frat house. Already, the party seems to have spilled out onto the lawn – there’s beer cans littered everywhere, a pool filled to the brim with half-naked people and even two alphas fighting while a crowd forms around them. You’re scared to find out what’s happening inside the frat house.

Steve snorts, “Why would you be scared? Haven’t you ever been to a party before?”

Your silence is enough to answer the question – and you can’t help but feel embarrassed. Already more than halfway through your first year in college, and you haven’t even been to a frat party. But it barely seems like your kind of get-together anyways.

“What if people make fun of me?” You ask him, your other hand reaching up to clutch his muscular bicep.

“They wouldn’t make fun of you, omega. You’re with me.”

You grimace, looking down at your outfit for the night. You didn’t really own any party clothes, or anything even remotely sexy like a bodycon dress or the pretty crop tops that you see the girls around you wearing. And earlier, Steve had barged into the bedroom, announcing he was taking you to his friend Thor’s house and barely giving you any time to pick a proper outfit.

You were dressed in your white cashmere sweater and matching pink and white pleated skirt – something Steve had picked out for you to wear to the lecture that morning, and certainly not appropriate party attire. Already, you could see some girls sneering at you, and laughing, and staring, and –

“Can’t do this, Steve.” You stop dead in your tracks, anxiety rising like a tidal wave from within you, and you look up at your alpha pleadingly “They’re gonna laugh at me.”

Steve looks bored as he tugs you along, “If they do then I’ll kill them with my bare hands,” He says casually, pushing you forward so that you’re standing in front of him with his palm pressing against your lower back, “Even if it’s a girl.”

You have no idea what to make of his casual confession that he’d beat up a girl for you, so you just keep your lips pressed in a thin line and let him guide you to the front of the frat house. Scratch that, the place might as well be a haunted house with how fast your heart’s beating as you both approach the door.

Standing silently under Steve’s arm while he greets his alpha friends is easy enough. They’re loud, obnoxious and misogynistic – much like Steve himself. Some of them don’t even acknowledge you, others give you leery looks when they think Steve isn’t looking. A freshman – same as you – who you recognise from the football team, is one of the few alphas who greets you.

“Hey. How’re you doing?”

You’re about to open your mouth to answer, heart pitter-pattering because someone’s actually spoken to you, but Steve beats you to it.

“Jensen, stop fucking flirting with my girlfriend.” Steve seethes, a look of pure irritation on his face as he wraps his arm around your waist and yanks you closer, “In fact, don’t even look at her. Go stand in that fucking corner over there. No, not there. There.” He shakes his head in disapproval, watching as Jake obeys his orders, “I swear, that kid is fucking useless. God knows how he got on the team.”

“He wasn’t flirting, Steve. He was just saying hi.” You murmur, feeling bad for the guy. From what you’ve seen, Steve tends to pick on him a lot.

Heated blue eyes look down at you, “Do you want to fuck him?”

Aghast, you shake your head, “What? No! No, I don’t–”

“Then don’t fucking speak on the matter. You know you’re not allowed to talk to any other guy and they aren’t allowed to talk to you.”

You bow your head, squeaking out an apology because you don’t really want to see Steve get angry right now. And the blonde immediately relaxes once he sees your display of submission, slipping on his charming smile how one would slip on a mask, leaving you wondering how exactly it is that he does that…

Steve’s friend Thor looks friendly enough, but still intimidating with how he’s got a beer can in each hand, one of which he offers to you. And Steve doesn’t seem to have a problem with Thor speaking to you, maybe because the other alpha has a redhead next to him who he introduces as his girlfriend, Natasha.

“No, thank you.” You answer politely as the huge blond holds a beer up to your face, “I don’t drink.”

Thor rumbles with laughter, “You’re in your first year, kid – of course you don’t drink. That’ll change soon, mark my words.”

Natasha slaps her boyfriend on the chest, “Oh, shut up, babe, stop trying to act all wise.”

You gape at the two of them, waiting for Thor to reprimand her but all he does it throw his head back and laugh. You can’t believe it! How has Natasha gotten away with talking to her alpha like that? You can’t imagine ever telling Steve to shut up – he’d probably spank your ass raw before you even got the first syllable out.

Steve pulls you into a secluded corner, pushing you up against the wall, “You don’t drink, huh? I didn’t know that.”

You shake your head, “Alcohol is scary.” Your mind momentarily flits back to some of your mother’s old boyfriends, the stench of alcohol on them, how mad they would get… You blink several times to get rid of the memories, “Plus, it doesn’t taste very nice.”

“So your tolerance is probably very low, huh?” Steve licks his pink lips, grinding his hard crotch into yours and you feel your face getting hot.

“Um, I guess…”

“Bet I could give you one of those fruity drinks – a cocktail with a cute umbrella. It’d taste like juice and you’d be none the wiser…” His lips are at your ear, and you can’t understand why he’s suddenly so hard over the thought of giving you a drink. You feel his teeth grazing against your ear lobe, his hand slipping down to grab your ass, “Bet you’d be all needy and stumbling all over the place after three sips…”

“P-Please don’t do that.” The thought of being drunk in front of all these people, of not being in control of your body and conscious – you can’t think of anything worse.

“You’d be completely dependent on me,” Steve presses his hips against you again, practically humping into you as your skirt begins to ride up and you squeak and scramble to pull it back down. “I mean, you’re already completely dependent on me, but just imagine how slutty you’d become after just one drink.” He licks the shell of your ear, “I know from experience that omegas get horny when they’re drunk. Bet you’d let me fuck you right here in the middle of the party – in front of everyone.”

“N-No, don’t want that!” You mewl softly, hating how you’re soaking through your panties as you listen to his words, feel his hand grope its way up your cardigan and past your bra.

“Mm, I think you do want it.” He peppers kisses up your neck and jaw, “Maybe on top of the snooker table? And fucking Jensen would probably cry, I know how bad he wants to fuck you.”

“P-Please stop, people can see us!” You beg him when you feel his hand going up your skirt, skimming over your panties which are completely drenched.

“C’mon baby, let daddy give you a little drink. One won’t hurt,” He teases you softly, “Don’t you trust me? Don’t you trust your alpha?”

Did you trust him? You weren’t too sure, not when he’d just revealed his plan of inebriating you and fucking you on the snooker table in front of everyone. All that did was scare you and make you want to run for the hills.

“Hey Steve, Thor and the other guys are calling you.” Natasha pops up, seemingly from out of nowhere, and you can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. Steve, however, looks irritated beyond belief.

“Fuck off,” He says, not even dignifying her with eye contact as he continues to kiss your neck, “Can’t you see I’m busy?”

Natasha shrugs sweetly, “The guys wanna play beer pong and they need you to make it equal teams. And anyways,” She looks at you now, “Me and your girlfriend could get ourselves better acquainted.”

“She doesn’t want to be friends with you,” Steve answers for you, and you wish he didn’t because Natasha seems – cool. And fearless, the way she’s talking to the alphas as if she’s not afraid of them. How is that even possible?

But surprisingly, he gives in. And after pressing his lips against yours in the most possessive, head-spinning kiss he’s ever given you, he makes his way over to the other end of the room, immediately declaring himself captain and handpicking his beer pong team-members.

Natasha chuckles and shakes her head, “Steve’s bossy, isn’t he? Even for an alpha.”

Your breath catches in your throat, not wanting to say anything bad about Steve. The bond you share with him has also given you an unwavering loyalty to him. But you’re also scared that if you do agree with Natasha, and it somehow gets back to Steve, that he’d be mad.

The redhead grabs your arm, “And you’re ever bit as shy as Steve is outspoken.” And then she’s tugging you towards the stairs, “C’mon, let’s go upstairs. The music’s so loud down here, I can barely hear you.”

You let her pull you upstairs, heart thudding because what if she’s mean to you? But she seems nice enough, way nicer than the other girls who fraternise with the popular alphas. You look back to take one last look at Steve, and somehow, across the room filled with people, he seems to look back at you at the same time. But then Natasha tugs you upstairs and into one of the rooms.

“This is Thor’s room, but I’m here most of the time so it’s kind of my room too.” You can tell, the room has an omega’s touch. Flowery sheets adorn the bed, as well as tons of blankets and pillows, meticulously folded and arranged. Your hands itch for your own nest, packed with your own pillows and an assortment of Steve’s clothes and, of course, Steve Junior.

“It’s nice.” You say softly.

“Mmhm,” The redhead looks you over, “Cute outfit.”

“Thank you. Although I know it’s not party appropriate.”

“It’s still cute. I could see about five different guys staring at you when you and Steve walked in earlier.”

You gulp, “That’s not true.”

Natasha flops down on her bed with a loud thud, “Girl, please. Look at yourself. You’re like an alpha’s wet dream. No wonder Steve mated you as soon as he got the chance.”

You bite your lip, scrunching your eyes shut momentarily as memories of the forced mating come rushing back. Instinctively, your hand reaches up to touch your mark, which throbs as if on cue. Suddenly, Natasha’s next to you, arm around you.

“Sorry,” She whispers, “I can tell you don’t wanna talk about that.” And then her voice brightens, and you know it’s in a bid to change the topic quickly and you’re appreciative of that, “Hey, wanna play dress-up?”

“D-Dress-up?” You swallow harshly again, looking down at your outfit which your alpha handpicked, “Steve wouldn’t want me to.”

Natasha wrinkles her nose, “So? Honey, men don’t know what they want. That’s one of the ways us ladies can control them – with our bodies, our clothes.”

“C-Control them?” The idea seems so far-fetched, almost comical. You control Steve? You can’t picture it, not in a billion years.

“Yes. For example, this preppy outfit you’ve got on now – you could have half the alphas at this party eating out of the palm of your hand with how cute you look.” Natasha walks you forward till you’re standing in front of the full-length mirror, stroking your hair as you look at your reflection, “As for Steve, I’d love to see his reaction if you wore something totally different and risqué.”

You press your lips together as you regard the idea, “I don’t think I own anything risqué.”

Natasha grins, “Don’t sweat it. I do.”

Within the next twenty minutes, Natasha has you decked out in a black bodycon dress, tight and ruched, almost like a second skin, with the neckline dipping down to reveal more than a hint of your cleavage. She’s even done your makeup: a smoky eye and berry-coloured lip. And wow, you actually feel… sexy.

“Fuck. You’re genuinely so hot.” Natasha whistles, and for a split second, this awful feeling courses through your veins. What if this is all a cruel practical joke? But Natasha’s smile looks so genuine, you can’t help but relax.

“You think so?” You ask her softly.

“I know so.”

“Thank you.”

But your confidence seems to dwindle when you and Natasha make your way downstairs once more. What if Steve didn’t like your new look? What if he yelled at you in front of everyone? Called you a slut like how he used to? You can feel your palms grow all sweaty, but the redhead pulls you back into the main room anyways.

“He’s gonna have literal hearts in his eyes, trust me.” She whispers in your ear, “I’ve worn that dress for Thor and he loves it.”

Steve’s team has won the beer pong game, and he’s currently downing a bottle in celebration when you make your way over to him. It’s crazy, but in the twenty or so minutes you’ve been upstairs, you’ve actually missed him, your body yearning for him as it always does. You tug at his sweater, wanting to feel his heavy arm around you again.

“Hey, baby, you missed the best game–” Steve cuts himself off, jaw slackening slightly before he quickly closes his mouth, blue eyes open and alert as he looks you up and down, gaze so fiery and intense, you feel like he’ll bore holes straight through your body. “What the fuck are you wearing?”

Any confidence you may have had seems to dissipate almost immediately, and you shake your head, backing away, “I-I’m sorry, I know it looks stupid. I’ll go change–”

But he grabs you, beer forgotten as the bottle clatters to the floor, and then he’s dragging you back to the secluded corner, one hand covering your cleavage and the other one tugging at the hem of your dress, trying to pull it down over your ass. You’d find it almost comical if you weren’t scared out of your mind.

“You look…” He slams you against the wall, licking his lips and it’s as if he can’t tear his eyes away from your body, looking you up and down, up and then back down again, paying special attention to your cleavage, “You look so fucking hot.”

Oh.

You barely have time to squeak out a thank you before his lips are on you, latching onto your neck and straight to his favourite spot – your mark. Tonguing it, lathering it with his saliva before grazing his teeth against it, almost as if he wants to mark you again, mark his territory.

“But I didn’t give you permission to dress like a slut, did I, omega?”

“N-No, but – Ah!” You gasp when you feel his leg between yours, parting your thighs and your already wet core throbs at the contact against the rough denim of his jeans.

“My slutty little baby omega,” Steve coos, sponging kissing up your neck as he begins to move his leg against your pussy, making you gasp and moan and whimper in the process, “You like that everyone’s staring at your hot little body, don’t you? Your body which belongs to me?” His palm collides with your ass with a loud smack, “I mean, look at Jensen, over there in his corner. Bet that little douchebag’s busted a nut in his pants after seeing you in this little outfit. Do you like that, huh? Done being all meek and shy? You like being a slutty, attention-seeking omega now?”

“N-No!” Your words keep getting caught in your throat with how good his leg feels as it drives up against your pussy, the denim catching onto your clit and creating the most delicious friction, “W-Wore it for you, Steve! Th-Thought maybe you’d like it.”

“I’d like it better on the floor,” He whispers hotly in your ear, hands coming down to rest tightly on your hips as he begins to move you on his thigh. And your body is so compliant to his hold, the dress riding up till it’s practically bunched around your waist, your panties pushed to the side by his impatient fingers, your bare pussy leaving streaks of wetness on his jeans but neither of you seem to care.

“Want me to rip this slutty dress off you, huh, omega? Embarrass you in front of everyone at this party, make you walk out of here in just your panties? Since you suddenly like to show off your body so fucking much?”

“I…I thought you’d like it – ah! – something different!” You pant.

Fear ripples through you at his threat, mingling with the pleasure already coursing through your veins as you ride Steve’s muscular thigh. The lights are dim, but you can see over his shoulder: at least five pairs of eyes are staring at what’s going on. You recognise Jake, Andy and – of course – Bucky, amongst them.

“Where’s my sweet and innocent little omega, huh?” He tweaks your nipple through the thin fabric of your dress, and you can feel your climax looming closer and closer, “Where’s daddy’s baby, who’s so shy, she didn’t want anyone seeing her body?”

You’re already fucked out, but his hypocrisy shines through – because aren’t all the dresses and skirts he makes you wear to lectures almost just as slutty? They’re just more pastel-coloured and cutesy. Oh, to understand how Steve’s mind works…

“I like this slutty dress on you, omega.” Steve presses his lips against yours, before drawing back, “But I don’t like how everyone’s staring at what’s mine.” He gives your ass another hard slap, driving you forward and making you grind your pussy harder on his leg, practically dry-humping him for all you’re worth. “But don’t worry baby, daddy’s gonna buy you more dresses like this. You can play dress-up at home, too. In the privacy of our fucking bedroom.”

He begins moving his leg, grinding it into your sensitive, soaking pussy. Your clit, so engorged with pleasure, is almost overwhelmed by the sensations, and you bite down on Steve’s shoulder to keep from moaning out loud. You can’t believe it, never in a million years did you think this would be you – getting off on Steve’s thigh in the middle of some frat party that’s in full swing.

“That’s right, baby. Make yourself cum on daddy’s thigh. Not even a drop of alcohol in you, and you’re still acting like a fucking slut. But I know deep down you’re still my cute little baby omega, who dresses in the cute outfits your daddy buys you. My sweet girl, aren’t you?”

“Mhm, yes, daddy!” You can’t help but whimper as your orgasm crashes over you, and you continue to hump against his thigh as you ride out your bliss, the entire roomful of people forgotten, the pairs of nosey eyes watching you all forgotten too in your release, moaning his name over and over as you wet the denim of his jeans even more.

“That’s my little baby,” Steve praises you, practically holding you up against the wall as you go lax in his arms, “My baby in this fucking dress with your hot fucking body on display. God, I don’t know whether to fuck you or punish you.”

Either or both, he seems to have made up his mind that the night is over. Without saying goodbye to his friends, and not even giving you a chance to say goodbye to Natasha, he half carries and half drags you out the door, and you can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief, the veil of anxiety lifting off your heart as you get away from all the people.

“You really put on a show tonight, didn’t you, omega?” Steve remarks as he carries you over to his car, “Can’t wait to order some more slutty dresses for you, so you can give me a private show.” He gives you a kiss before opening the door and placing you into the passenger seat, and you smile faintly until you hear his next words:

“Oh, and you’re not allowed to speak to Natasha anymore. Clearly, she’s a bad influence on you.”

THE END

a/n: omg, someone stop me from writing poyt drabbles! but they’re so much fun to write ahhhh! forever in love with steve and omega’s dynamic, and i wanted to explore them doing normal college things like going to parties! PLEASE, please do tell me what you think! your feedback means more than the world!!! thank you so much for reading! love you guys xx

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #chris evans #chris evans x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x oc #x reader #poyt drabble

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dungeonpuppykai · 4 months

Text

yeah yeah maybe i am ovulating, maybe i am disgusting

but one thing i know for sure is that

i am a 6' busty babe and

i would love for this man to fold me like his laundry

because like, everybody would think i call the shots because of how polite and soft he is overall and the size difference, of course plus me being a seasoned brat

only for me to act smart or big and he only gives me a look and i pathetically whimper and curl into his side, muttering apologies and pressing soft kisses along his humble shoulder

even better if i am wearing heels <3

#petition for steve rogers to destroy me in any size #brain rot uwu #school night always makes me act stupid #kai rambles #steve rogers imagine #dark steve rogers #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x oc #steve rogers x plus size reader #steve rogers #skinny steve rogers #pre serum steve #steve rodgers x reader

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asirensrage · 1 year

Note

From the obsession prompt list

“Did you not like the gifts? I bought them off of your wish list."

Any muse of your choice

😊😊😊

Hey! Thanks for asking! How about our boy Steve?

Warnings: Obsession. Stalking.

She stares in horror at the mountain of things around her. Where did it all come from? There's no name listed. Only her own and the mention that it's a gift. The sender remained anonymous. They’d been arriving steadily for days now and she stopped opening them once she realized she doesn’t know who was sending them. She’s asked her family and friends. They all denied it.

It takes her a few moments to weave her way around the packages and get out. This has to be...a breach in security or something. She needs to figure out what and inform SHEILD just in case. The sooner it’s dealt with, the sooner things can return back to normal.

She’s walking in the doors of headquarters when someone slips into position next to her, keeping pace. She glances over before offering a nod.

“Captain,” she greets.

“I told you to call me Steve,” he says, smiling slightly as he looks at her.

She doesn’t respond. He’s offered his name before, but she’s nowhere near his level of clearance and as friendly as he is, she doesn’t know him. Not really.

He follows her into the elevator and moves to press the button for the floor she works on.

“Thirty-one this time, please,” she corrects him. He pauses for only a moment before he presses it. She bites back the question of why he doesn’t press one for his own floor.

“Heading for security?” he asks lightly. “Something wrong?” He turns towards her as he asks and she has to swallow down the tightness that grows in her throat. There’s something about the question and the way he’s looking at her, as though he’s prepared to deal with any threat that comes her way. She doesn’t deserve that kind of attention.

“Just going to ask them to look into something for me.” She doesn’t plan on saying more, but he waits and it seems like forever for the floors to pass. “I’ve just been getting deliveries I didn’t ask for.”

There is a moment of heavy silence and the Captain shifts slightly closer. She has to quell the urge to step back. It’s Captain America. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt her.

“Did you not like the gifts?” he asks and the question has her turning towards him in surprise. “I bought them off of your wish list.”

Her wish list was half filled with things that didn’t deliver to the country. “What?” Her voice catches in her throat.

The Captain steps towards her again. This time, she doesn’t stop herself from moving back. “I bought them for you,” he explains.

“Why?”

He stares at her like he doesn’t understand her confusion. They’ve barely spoken to one another. She’s only interacted with him when it was work-related or when they ran into each other. They’re not this close.

“Why? Because you deserve the things you want, sweetheart.”

She glances at the elevator numbers. They’re only passing the twentieth floor.

“And I’m not hesitating this time,” he says. “I’m not holding back.” There’s something in his eyes that tells her she’s stepping into dangerous territory, as though she’s facing a predator with her back to a wall.

“We don’t know each other.” Twenty-fifth floor.

“We will.”

The elevator dings before the doors open and she leaves, fighting the instinct that tells her not to turn her back on him. She doesn’t know what’s going on, but he doesn’t follow her off and for that she’s grateful. She’ll just have to let him down gently. After all, he’s Captain America. He could have anyone he wants. Surely he’d prefer someone else, someone who actually wants him, right?

Obsession Prompts

#obsession tw #steve rogers x oc #dark!steve rogers #dark fic #muchadoaboutcj

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sgrdoll · 2 years

Text

Defenseless

chapter 2 chapter 3

synopsis - steve and the avengers break up a sex trafficking ring. steve finds one of the survivors barely hanging on and decides she needs him.

warnings: mentions of abuse, mentions of death, extremely sick reader, mentions of malnutrition, mentions of sex trafficking/sex abuse, moral!steve rogers, if i am missing anything please let me know!

a/n - i really loved writing this and i can absolutely seeing this becoming a series or at the very least having a couple more parts. give me all the feedback you can!! thanks sm for reading :)

wc: 3k

“On my signal,” Steve commanded the men behind him. This mission had been six months in the making, there was no way he was letting rookies fuck it up. He had instructed them before they even stepped foot outside of the compound that his word was law and they were to listen to every syllable that dripped from his lips.

He pressed his right hand against the steel door while his left went up swiftly. His hand told the man to rush the door. Steve’s fist broke the door open expecting to see strippers and mobsters dancing underneath flashing lights, instead he was met with the grizzly sight of men and women in miniscule cages sitting silently.

His rookies stopped abruptly, looking to the older Captain for guidance. Steve couldn’t offer any due to his shock. He had never seen something like this before, and he had been around for a long time.

They all looked so defeated, sitting silently in their prisons without so much as a flinch towards the men dressed in tactical gear in front of them. They didn’t seem alarmed, but they also didn’t show any signs of relief.

Steve looked behind him at the people who were meant to be following his lead, at first he was perplexed at what to do.

“Civilians have now been moved to top priority,” he said loudly into the comms attached to his Captain America suit.

“I want everyone on the basement level getting them out of the cages. Avengers, upstairs and we’ll take down the men behind this operation.”

His command was heard through the comms and Natasha was the first to copy. Steve turned his attention back behind him to the men who didn’t seem to know what to do without him holding their hands. He almost rolled his eyes but reminded himself of the time he was once in their shoes, scared and confused in the line of fire.

“I want them all out. Now. Get Fury to send a shuttle and take them to the compound.”

They shuffled in front of him and he watched as they broke the locks that confined the poor victims. Steve let out a sigh and felt his heart crack. He had always been a sensitive guy but even the most coldhearted man would feel a bit of sting seeing the conditions these people were being held in.

He shook the feeling off knowing he had a job to do. He ran up the stairs to the top level where he already knew Nat and Clint were waiting for him.

Once at the top floor he saw them crouched behind the wall with their weapons loaded and ready to fire.

“On your go, Cap,” Nat muttered while watching several men cluelessly smoke cigars in leather office chairs, completely oblivious to the people they have been sex trafficking being freed.

Anger filled Steve’s chest. How could they be sitting here happily while hundreds of people were in cages? Steve let the feeling wash over him, a feeling he could use when taking these assholes to prison.

“Now.”

Nat was the first to act, a warning shot to let them know what they were in for. That’s how she’s always been, never one for efficiency, she wanted to see the look on their faces when they realized they were paying for their crimes. Steve always had an inkling that quirk came from her time in the Red Room, but he never dared to bring that up to her.

Clint stayed behind the wall, silently shooting arrows at the men that had now erupted into chaos. Clint wasn’t aiming for vital organs, though they all secretly wanted these men to be killed, preferably by their own hands.

Natasha skillfully blocked their every move while simultaneously disarming each of them. Steve didn’t step in until one of the assholes had Nat in a full nelson, restricting her movement.

Steve knew that they didn’t stand a chance against three Avengers with a mission. It didn’t take long until every one of them, seven men in total, were either unconscious or in some form of handcuffs. They spit obscenities at the trio but they all ignored their screams.

“Get any information you can off of their computers. I want names, client lists, business associates, and anything else you can find,” Steve barked another order while preparing the compound for the influx of people.

“On it.”

“Clint, get someone to take these pricks to jail.”

Steve went back downstairs to do a final walkthrough of the sex trafficking ring disguised as a casino. He always double checked. Making the mistake once was enough for him to learn his lesson.

The basement was his last stop before he could head back to the compound and help out the recently freed victims.

He already had plans to put them in apartments and hire social workers to take each of their cases, with Tony’s money of course. There had to be hundreds of them freed now that he looked at the cages they once occupied. The basement was empty without their presence.

Steve walked to each corner of the room and checked thoroughly for any remaining people in need of his help. His blue eyes scanned every inch of the filthy space.

As he was walking he almost tripped over a ratty blue blanket. Steve could clearly tell there was a body under it, but wasn’t sure if whoever it was could possibly still be alive.

It didn’t matter how much death or sorrow he saw in this world, he would never get used to how it made him feel.

He mentally prepared himself as he slowly touched the corner of the blanket to unwrap the person tucked inside of it. He pulled and the blue blanket slowly unraveled to reveal a tiny girl. She was clearly malnourished and her brown hair was thin. Her boney arms were wrapped around her torso in a last ditch effort to keep herself warm. Her eyes were squeezed shut and there was no color on her face, she looked like a ghost.

Steve’s heart squeezed as he came to the conclusion she must be dead. He was almost sure she was gone but he was trained to always do a medical assessment on victims, even if you thought they were deceased. He pressed two of his fingers against her cold neck to check for a pulse. Steve unexpectedly felt a slow, faint heartbeat.

He jumped into action picking up the girl who couldn’t have weighed more than ninety pounds. He could feel her rib cage against his chest when he pulled her against his body. She was clearly freezing cold and her small body shivered without the blanket that she was previously covered with.

Steve had no choice but to pick up the disgusting blanket she was once swaddled in. He wrapped it tight around her body and hurried out of the basement she resided in.

He walked as quickly as he could to the black SUV that was going to be taking him, Natasha, and Clint back to the compound. Nat and Clint were already there waiting on him. As he slipped inside with the tiny girl in his arms the pair both looked down at her curiously.

“Is she alive?” Clint was the first to break the silence as the car sped off to the other side of down.

“Barely. She’s holding on but her heartbeat is faint and she’s practically frozen,” Steve answered, concern etched on his handsome face.

“I have some emergency blankets and hand warmers in the back,” Nat remembered. She didn’t even wait for a response, she just jumped over the seats and came back with two shiny blankets and a package of hot hands.

Steve replaced the torn blue blanket with two shiny silver ones. He activated the hot hands and placed them on her neck and stomach.

“She’s tiny. Her ribs are poking out and it looks like she hasn’t been fed in weeks. The guys that took the prisoners out missed her,” Steve explained as the SUV turned harshly in the New York traffic.

Steve tried not to be furious that his rookies missed her small body, but how could he when he almost did the same?

“There’s no way she makes it through the night. The girl is practically dead,” Clint commented leaning back against the black leather seating.

Steve’s face turned angry, “She’s not an animal. Don’t speak about her that way.” His oddly protective nature was no surprise to anyone in the car. He had always been a fiercely protective man, which is most of the reason he saves lives.

“I’m just saying not to get your hopes up about her.”

“I’m taking her to medical and they’ll get some food and water in her and it will be fine,” Steve didn’t know if he was reassuring Clint or himself.

There was no way in hell he was letting this girl die. He would do anything in his power to prevent a civilian casualty. Especially for a defenseless young girl barely holding on.

The car eventually made it to the compound and the girl’s body had become a bit warmer since the beginning of the ride. Steve rejoiced but he knew they weren’t out of the woods yet.

He scrambled to get her to the medical wing and have Banner and one of the doctors look at her.

As soon as the doctors saw her they immediately hooked her frail body up to an IV. He could tell by their expressions that they weren’t very hopeful for her recovery.

“We are getting a feeding tube in her as soon as possible. It seems she has no underlying disease. She’s just severely malnourished and dehydrated,” One of the female doctors explained to Steve.

“Is she going to be okay?”

The doctor’s mouth went into a thin line and her eyebrows lowered in sympathy, “I’m afraid it’s just a waiting game now, Mr. Rogers.” Steve’s heart dropped. He imagined in his mind that this young girl spent her life in the underground facility she was kept. She had probably never felt a summer breeze through her hair, or the sun on her skin. He wanted more than anything for her to be okay so she could feel those things.

It pissed him off that she wouldn’t get to have those simple pleasures in life. She deserved those things. He had never even heard the fragile girl speak or even seen her open her eyes for that matter, but Steve was fighting for her. He was going to stay there and he was going to be an advocate for her and root for her because it’s likely no one else had ever done that for her before.

“Banner,” Steve barked out, “I want you to do everything you can for her. I mean absolutely everything. I’m counting on you to keep her alive.”

Banner’s eyes widened, “Cap..”

“No,” Steve stopped him, “No excuses. Just make sure she makes it through the night.”

Banner just sighed and nodded, he knew there was no arguing with Steve.

There was no way Steve could just go to his bunk without knowing what was going to happen to her. He sat down on one of the black vinyl seats stuffed in the corner of the room. He was not going to take his eyes off of the girl layed in the hospital bed. He felt like if he did she might disappear or waste away.

He knew she was strong, she had to be. She had spent her life in that warehouse afterall. He prayed she was still holding onto that strength.

Steve tried not to think about the horrors she must’ve gone through before ending up in his arms, but he almost couldn’t help it. Those thoughts intruded into his consciousness until he felt like it was eating him alive.

Doctors and nurses filtered in and out of the room but Steve’s presence was a permanent fixture. Eventually Bucky stepped into the room to check on Steve. “You know you’ve been in here for hours watching a girl get fed through a tube, right?”

Steve sighed at the simplicity of that statement. It was so much more than that. He almost felt as if him being there was passing on his fighting spirit to her. He didn’t know if that was true or not, but what if it was and he left her to fend for herself?

“I know.”

“Wanda made lasagna, do you want me to bring you some?”

Bucky was sympathetic to Steve. Bucky could remember the first time he himself had lost a civilian, and it hurt like hell. They were supposed to be the guys that saved everyone, and when you can’t it’s a shitty feeling.

“No thanks, Buck. I think I’ll just stay right here,” Steve answered without taking his eyes off her sleeping form.

Bucky knew there wasn’t much else he could do for his friend so he just got up from the seat and left him to his thoughts.

Steve was relieved to be alone once again. He felt like he was there for hours upon hours, but he didn’t care. He would sit in this vinyl seat for the rest of his life if that kept the poor girl alive.

“Mr. Rogers,” the doctor’s voice knocked Steve from his thoughts.

He looked up at her with hope in his eyes.

“She’s taking her feeding tube very well and the intravenous fluids have hydrated her well enough that her heart rate is back up. I’m confident she’ll wake up in a couple of hours.” Both Steve and the doctor had huge smiles on their faces, “Thank you so much Dr. Lim. What’s going to happen when she wakes up?”

“She’s going to be incredibly weak. I want her to stay in the medical wing under my supervision for at least a couple of days after she wakes up. She has a long road of recovery ahead of her but I’m confident.”

Steve almost started celebrating right there in front of the entire medical staff. He kept his composure but the smile on his face seemed to stay in place. He still didn’t want to leave her but he was so happy she was fighting.

For the first time since he had brought her back to the compound he stood up and walked over to her bed. Her eyes were still shut and she was still asleep but there was a red tint on her cheeks that made Steve’s chest feel like there were fireworks going off inside of him. He could remember a mere ten hours ago when her face was completely void of any color.

He stood next to her bed and took her hand in his. Her skin wasn’t quite as warm as his, super soldier serum and all that, but it was still significantly better than the way he had found her.

Stever rubbed his thumb across the smooth skin on the back of her hand. He smiled down at her. He wished she would wake up so he could tell her how brave he thought she was.

As the thought crossed his mind her eyes slowly fluttered open. Steve quickly dropped her hand and looked down at her. He pressed the button above her head that called for the doctor.

He watched as she took in her surroundings and finally him.

The girl opened her mouth to speak, “Stop,” he said quickly, “Don’t speak, you’ll strain yourself.”

He could tell she was scared out of her mind but she obeyed anyway.

He heard the footsteps of Dr. Lim run into the room. Both Steve and the girl looked at the doctor’s frantic expression. Dr. Lim realized nothing was wrong and put her hand over her heart.

“You scared me so bad,” she spoke breathlessly, “I thought she had coded.”

Steve shook his head, “No, she’s okay. She’s awake.”

“I’ll call the nurses to take your vitals and bring you some water,” Dr. Lim turned and walked out of the room. Steve’s attention was back on the girl in the hospital bed.

“My name is Captain Steve Rogers. I found you in the care of some very bad people. I’m here to help you,” he tried to speak to her as gently as he possibly could. He wanted her to be comfortable.

“You are such a fighter,” he praised her, “All you have to do now is rest. No one is going to hurt you anymore.”

He watched her muscles lose their tension when he reassured her that he was going to keep her safe. He felt the girl’s trust in him without her having to say a word.

It was clear that even though she was awake, she was weak and tired. Steve put his hand against her forehead and pushed the hair out of her face.

The nurses came in shortly after and handed Steve a cup of water with a straw sticking out of it. The nurses explained to him that she would be using a feeding tube for a while before she could eat solids again but she still needed to drink a good amount of water.

It seemed that the hospital staff had deemed Steve as her caregiver and he was tasked with helping her drink water as well as keep her company and hold her gaunt hand.

Steve held up the straw to her lips and entertained her with the plots of the movies he had seen recently. He told her in detail about Star Wars and Cinderella while she tried to push the straw away from her mouth.

He sat and spoke to her for hours, even at one point making a nurse bring him chapstick to put on her dry lips. He continued to talk to her softly even after she had drifted off to sleep.

During the night, he sat next to her hospital bed with his head propped on an extra pillow the nurses had given him. Steve never slept though.

Every time his eyes shut he was scared she would stop breathing. Somehow, at around 3 a.m. the next morning he finally found peace with his head layed on the hospital bed. Steve drifted off into sleep with his hand over hers.

#steve rogers x reader #oc #steve rogers #sub!reader #dom!steve rogers #dark fic #read the warnings #the avengers #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #clint barton #clint x reader #bruce banner #au #defenseless

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misschris1412 · 8 months

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Katherine Mcnamara : Déa Fandralson

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leiamorgainedelalunewriter · 2 years

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The Reckoning

Steve Rogers/Tony Stark’s Daughter OC

A Dark AU Fic

Chapter 5

Author's Note

This chapter contains explicit sexual content including dirty thoughts, dirty talk, fingering, touching, PIV sex, unprotected sex, etc. as well as other mature content. Here's your warning. This story is only going to get more mature. I highly suggest minors DNI. The italic lyric sections are from the song posted at the beginning of the chapter. You can also get the song info from the playlist. - Leia

Come cover me with you

For the thrill

till you will take me in

Come comfort me in you

Young love must

Live twice only for us

Alexa awoke feeling herself cocooned in the warmth of a pair strong arms. She was still laying on a very muscular chest. She looked up to see Steve's blue eyes looking back at her. She felt a little sore from the sex and knew it was normal. However, the rest of what she was feeling was still like a blissful high. She smiled as she snuggled into him. Steve was bringing her nothing but pure happiness. He was giving her hope for so many things she use to not have any for at all, like the existence of real love. She felt him kiss her forehead and her smile grew bigger. She'd never felt so happy in her life.

"Good morning, sweetheart," he said softly.

"Good morning," she responded with a smile.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Best sleep ever. You?"

"I can definitely say the same."

He leaned down and kissed her. The kiss was lingering and passionate as used his arms to pull her completely on top of him. Their lips stayed locked together as the kiss deepened. She wanted more. She was naked and ready to be touched. This was worse than a craving. It was a need. She reached a hand down and began to gently strike the shaft of his semi-erect member causing him to half growl as he broke the kiss.

"Do you have any idea what you're doing to me right now?" Steve asked her.

"I do," She answered with a smirk. "I need you, Steve."

"Fuck, Alexa!"

She released his now hard cock as she placed her hands in his shoulders. He used one of his hands to first check to see if she was wet enough to take him. He had barely touched her and she was already drenched. It was going to take every ounce of control he had to not fuck her into oblivion. He had his other hand on her hip while he moved the one to guide his cock into her dripping heat. She let out a pleasure filled cry from her lips as she spread her legs out further to completely straddle him before shifting her body so that she was just slightly upright. She moaned again, this time it was a little more breathy as he now had a hand on each of her hips. He barely had to move to be fully sheathed inside of her tight, slick pussy and it felt like heaven on earth to him. The way she cried out when he thrust into her drove him crazy. She had told him that she needed him. Why did he have a feeling he'd made Alexa into an insatiable little succubus?

"Steve..." she half whispered as she rocked her hips against him. "God don't stop!"

He thrust himself up into her, "Oh, Alexa, you have surprised me."

"Fuck! Your cock is like a drug."

"You're my drug, sweetheart."

"Please don't stop!"

"Your wish is my command, baby."

He continued to thrust upwards into her as she kept grinding her hips against his with each thrust. He had both hands gripping her hips firmly. She was crying out loudly, making it known just how good he was making her feel, right before she leaned down and kissing him. The kiss was needy, hungry, and one that drove him further into his current desire for her. What was she doing to him?

"Are you wanting me to fuck you, Alexa?" He questioned as she placed her hands on his shoulders.

"Yes I am, Steve," She purred into his ear. "I want you to fuck me all day long."

"Then we are barely going to leave this bed today."

"Good because I'm addicted to this and you."

"Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea how hooked I am to everything about you."

"Fuck, Steve! Oh god please don't stop because you're making me feel so fucking good!"

He caressed her face with one of his hands as he had not stopped his hard thrusting into her, "I don't plan on it. Fuck! Alexa, do you know how good you make me feel?"

Alexa cried out, a scream of pleasure as she kept grinding her hips against him. Her desire for him was near animalistic, just as his was for her. They couldn't stop. Between kisses the two of them for moaning and breathing heavily as their movements didn't cease. Steve's needed for her body was just as great and desperate as hers for him. They weren't going to be able to stay away from each other at all, not ever. The touch, the contact, the sex, all of it was now like a requirement for survival for them both.

Natasha walked into Sam's room and turned on the light without warning. She'd already sent Bucky to the kitchen for coffee and the remainder of the beignets after they discovered Steve wasn't home. She was certain she knew where he was but needed Sam to give her that confirmation, since he was the only one that could. Clint was already in the study working like nothing was going on, which was all too typical of him. This was why he ran things when Steve wasn't available. He was the responsible one. What was she doing? Her usual chore is babysitting Sam and her husband since they both refuse to completely grow up. She found it irritating but clearly must have accepted it since she did marry Bucky.

"Wake up and get your ass out of bed, Sam!" She half shouted. "Be in the study in fifteen minutes. I told Bucky to bring coffee and the rest of the beignets."

"Damn, woman!" Sam exclaimed in response. "Can't I sleep?"

"Not when Steve mysteriously disappears."

"Oh hell! He went to her place after he had me take her home. That dumbass!"

She put her face into her hands. She knew it! She knew him too well. This means he also slept with her. He never listens!

"We all told him not to think with his dick," She muttered.

"He doesn't listen," Sam remarked in response.

"I know that!"

"Leave my room, Natasha, so I can get dressed."

"Barton's here so hurry up if you want food."

"Shit!"

Natasha left Sam's room laughing and made her way back to the study where she found Clint sitting behind Steve's desk doing paperwork and Bucky sitting in his usual spot in the sofa eating a beignet. Bucky handed her a mug with coffee in it, fixed just the way she liked. She took the mug from her husband, flashes him a smile, and took a sip of the hot liquid. Clint finally looked up from his task and the look on his face was one of irritation. Natasha wasn't sure if it was the paperwork or something else.

"Is he getting his ass up?" Bucky asked about Sam.

"He'll be in here shortly," Nat answered. "What's wrong, Clint? The look on your face says a lot. Is it Steve, Sam, or something else?"

"A combination of I'm being honest," Clint responded. "Do you know where Steve is?"

"We had a feeling when we found him gone this morning," Bucky replied. "Just don't know for sure."

"Sam pretty much confirmed it," Nat added. "He's certain Steve went to her place after he had him take her home, and in all honesty, it makes sense."

"That stupid punk."

Bucky laughed as he shook his head. He wasn't sure if he should be disappointed or proud. Natasha took her seat next to him as they both observed a very confused Clint. It was then they realized he didn't have a lot of details about Alexa yet or Steve's date with her, if any at all.

"Wait a minute. Who is she?" Clint inquired.

"Oh, right!" Bucky realized as he and Nat laughed slightly. "We need to fill you in. Steve met Alexandra Stark earlier this week and they flirted. Then, last night he had her here for a dinner date."

"Did you just say Alexandra Stark?"

"Yes he did," Nat smirked. "She goes by Alexa and is really quite something."

"He went to her place? He's with her?"

"Oh he has to be," Sam said as he walked into the room and sat down in his usual seat. "They'd obviously been messing around when he came to get me to take her home."

"Oh I need details!" Nat practically commanded in an almost eager tone.

"Of course you do, Natasha."

"Steve won't give me any!"

"She's right, Wilson," Bucky stated. "Now talk."

"Steve was only wearing his pants," Sam began to divulge. "Alexa no longer had in lipstick though it was on his lips and her hair was unpinned."

"That's the look of we didn't have sex, but we definitely did more than make out," Clint proclaimed as they were all trying not to laugh.

"Well he was gone when I got back."

"Oh yeah he went there. Stark is so going to flip out when he discovers Steve is fucking his daughter."

"She's not a fan of her Dad, Clint," Nat revealed. "As stupid as this may have been on Steve's part, I've seen the way they look at each other."

"This could still start a war despite what she wants. Tony Stark is a ruthless man with no principles."

"And if Steve has feelings for her then we go to war."

"I've always told him that I'm with him until the end of the line," Bucky affirmed. "This is no different."

"She's obviously feeling the same for him. I'm behind this," Sam chimed in. "Especially if she's got no true loyalty to her dad."

"Then I look forward to meeting her," Clint commented. "It sounds like he may have found the best thing for him."

"I couldn't agree more," Nat concurred as she began to serve the beignets. "What else is going on, Clint?"

Before Clint could answer, the phone on the desk started to ring. He looked at the ID to see it was a Los Angeles phone number. That means one thing and one thing only, that it was speaking of the devil himself, Tony Stark. He groaned loudly and motioned for Natasha to come over there as the phone continues to ring. She quickly walked over behind the desk and stood next to Clint by the phone, with one arm on his shoulder. She took one look at the number on the ID and rolled her eyes.

"Answer it on speaker," she directed. "Let's see what this asshole wants."

Clint pressed the button for the speaker phone and spoke, "Rogers, Inc., this is Barton."

"Hello, Barton," came the voice of Tony Stark, one they were all too familiar with. "Is your boss available?"

"Steve happens to be unavailable right now, Stark. How can I help you?"

"Can you ask him to give me a call?"

"What do you want, Stark?" Natasha asked in an almost forceful tone. "Is it so important that you must talk to Steve?"

"Oh, Natasha, my favorite Russian beauty. I never thought you'd speak."

"Cut the crap and answer me."

"And stop trying to flirt with my wife!" Bucky exclaimed, making sure his tone came off as a threat.

"Nice to hear your voice, Barnes," Tony remarked sarcastically. "My daughter, Alexandra, moved to Manhattan a week ago..."

"Good for her to get away from you," Natasha interrupted, causing both Sam and Bucky to have to stifle laughter.

"She's there for school, despite it not being to study what I had preferred for her and no other reason."

"And you want to speak to Steve because?" Clint inquired.

"To make sure Rogers stays away from her."

Natasha started laughing, "You need to get a grip on your control issues, Stark, and besides Steve's got a girl."

"Well, in that case, I wish him luck and all that good stuff."

The phone suddenly disconnected and the room filled with their laughter. They'd gotten Tony Stark to wish Steve well in his relationship that was with his own daughter. Natasha was notoriously good at pulling plays like this but they all had to admit that this was her best one yet. When the truth about Steve and Alexa did come out, things were going to get interesting for all of them.

Alexa and Steve had barely left her bed all day. They'd order take out to be delivered, enjoying the food break between rounds of sex and power naps. They truly couldn't keep their hands off of each other. They had, also, spent time talking and getting to know each other more. Alexa laid in Steve's arms and felt happier than she'd ever felt in her life. It wasn't just the way he touched her. It was the way he listened to her. It was the way he looked at her as they talked. She could tell he was truly listening to every word she spoken this was something Alexa wasn't used to, having someone who truly care about her thoughts and feelings. She spent much of her life alone and when her Dad was around, it was never because he cared for her. No, her Dad just cares about controlling her and Pepper was basically his minion. Rhodey was basically her rock growing up and she met Wanda at school. These feelings she had now, as she lay curled up in Steve's arms, were something brand new to her but all she wanted to do was explore them more. She kisses him softly as he felt herself getting lost in his kid eyes again. It was something more than happy, more than safe she felt felt as his arms wrapped tightly around her. Alexa just wasn't sure if she was ready to name this feeling yet.

Steve stopped counting after round three. They truly were addicted to each other almost instantly. It wasn't just something about her physically that drew him to Alexa. She has a beautiful soul. Her heart and mind amazed him. As they talked and she revealed things about her past, it only made him hold her closer. Damn Tony Stark for all of the pain he had caused her. She'd been neglected instead of loved. Steve vowed then that he would make sure that Alexa never felt like that again. She deserved to feel loved because that's what she was worthy of, being loved. He'd never felt like this, felt so deeply for anyone until she came into his life. Steve wasn't sure what this was but he wanted to delve further into this relationship. He wanted to never let her go as he sweetly kissed her lips again. He was now determined to do more than make her happy. He wanted to help her heal her scars and see her never hurt again. Was he falling in love with her already? If he was, then he knew he was truly doing it for the first time in his life.

"Sweetheart, what do you think of getting a shower and going to my place?" He inquired.

"I like that idea," She answered. "Do you want me to stay the night?"

"Do you want to?"

"I'm a little spoiled to this already."

"I think I'm going to enjoy spoiling you even more, Alexa."

"Oh, Steve! Don't threaten a girl with a good time."

They both began to laugh with their happiness evident in their eyes and faces. Whatever was happening between them was completely real.

"You can bring some things to leave there so always have something there," he said softly.

"You're saying that like I'll be there a lot," she quickly replied.

"Well, I'd be shocked if you're not."

"I get this feeling that if I'm not there that you'll be here. In that case, you can leave some things here so you're not resorting to wandering around naked."

"I thought you didn't mind."

"I don't, Steve. I just have a best friend with a tendency to show up unannounced and I much prefer it if Wanda never sees you naked."

"Ok. I get your point. I wouldn't want Sam or Bucky to see you naked either."

"Bucky would send his wife into the room first to make sure I'm decent."

Steve laughed at how quickly Alexa had figured out Bucky and Natasha. It could become obvious very quickly that nothing and no one scared Bucky more than his wife.

"You caught into that quickly," he noted still laughing.

"She also has a reputation," Alexa giggled. "My Uncle Rhodey thoroughly enjoyed telling me about her rejecting my Dad."

"We all wish we had that on video because it was amazing to witness."

"I do really like her."

"She's a great person and friend."

"Steve, I love the idea about keeping things at your place."

"I'll keep some here too."

"And, I'd love to go back to your place."

"So, shower?"

"Are you going to teach me what shower sex is like?"

"Sweetheart, I'll teach you about anything that relates to pleasure and your body that you want to learn.”

"Then teach me, Steve. I'm your willing student."

"Oh, Alexa, if you only knew what all you do to me."

For me

For you

Time devours passion's beauty

With me

With you

In war for the love of you

Tonight any dream will do

Author's Note

I'm so sorry this took so long! Chapter 6 is written just have to get it snapped. Tony has appeared via phone. What's in store next? Stay tuned! - Leia

Read more by visiting my main Masterlist or the Steve Rogers Masterlist

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leiamorgainedelalune · 2 years

Text

The Reckoning

Steve Rogers/Tony Stark’s Daughter OC

A Dark AU Fic

Chapter 3

Author's Note

This chapter contains some sexual content including dirty thoughts, dirty talk, fingering, etc as well as other mature content. Here's your warning. This story is only going to get more mature. I highly suggest minors DNI. The italic lyric sections are from the song posted at the beginning of the chapter. You can also get the song info from the playlist. - Leia

Energize me with a simple touch

Or with an open heart

Energize me, fire up this flame

That's burning between us

She had a date with Steve Rogers tonight! Alexa had to keep reminding herself that was real. Wanda was on her way over to help her get ready. She'd never been so nervous about anything in her life and she couldn't get that kiss off her mind. She was now completely intoxicated by it and all she could think about was how badly she wanted more. She'd give him all of her if he asked. Alexa knew she had to be careful or Steve Rogers would have her falling in love without a second thought.

Steve had spent more time in planning than working since she had agreed to the date. This was about more than seducing Alexa, as there was a part of him that wanted her to fall in love with him. He remembered his mother used to talk about how important it was to have someone to love in your life because it didn't just keep you balanced and grounded, it made you whole. The older he got, the more he understood exactly what she meant by those words. Too often though, he ran into superficial women who were only after him for sex, money, or both. Perhaps Alexa's purity truly was what he needed. Despite the life he lead, he didn't want to be alone for the rest of it with nothing but endless, empty hook ups. Steve actually was hoping to find some meaning in his life. If Bucky could find a woman to marry him then so could he. He just intended on making his Alexa after meeting her and kissing her just once had given him hope.

"You going to work at all or just plan this date?" Bucky questioned as he entered the study and took a seat on the sofa.

"Man, he's got to figure out how to make it through it without losing control of his cock," Sam quipped from the chair opposite Bucky with a laugh.

"She's that beautiful?"

"Drop dead fucking gorgeous..."

"Watch your mouth, Sam," Steve interrupted in a warning tone.

"What did you do now, Wilson?" asked Natasha as she walked in with a stack of files that she took over to Steve.

"He made a comment about Steve's girl, Doll," Bucky answered for him with a sideways smirk as Natasha walked over and sat down next to Bucky.

"He should know better."

"She's not my girl yet," Steve remarked quickly.

"Oh she will be. You've already got her like putty in your hands, man," Sam states. "I saw that myself."

"I do not!"

"Man, you are so blind!"

"Sam, tell me this," Natasha began. "How innocent do you think she is?"

"Fifty bucks says she's a virgin."

"Stark's daughter? No way that's possible," Bucky commented. "You're on."

"He kept her hidden away from the world at all girls schools, right? Sam's virgin theory actually makes sense to me," Nat agreed with Sam, a rare occasion.

"Buck, is there strange weather or hell freezing over?" Steve inquired as he stood from his desk.

"No," Bucky replied quickly. "Why?"

"Because not only did Natasha just agree with Sam, in doing it she disagreed with you."

"I hate you, Sam."

"Get over yourself, Barnes," Sam retorted.

"Ok, children, we have to get this place date ready so behave yourselves," Nat chided. "Steve, go get ready. Bucky and I are on this."

"And, me too. I'm on food."

"Your beignets are almost as good as the ones in New Orleans."

"He's cooking?" questioned Bucky.

"Sous chef, asshole!" Sam exclaimed. "We have a good cook, but at least I can cook without setting the place on fire."

"Guys, please," Steve half pleaded as he began to walk around his desk. "Buck, you know very well Sam can cook. Every time he makes beignets you eat more of them than anyone. Don't even try to deny it. Can the two of you not act like a couple of children right now? You're my top two guys and you both know damn well how important tonight is."

"I'll behave if he does."

"Fine. I will for you, Steve," Bucky lamented. "I know that the two of us, along with my wife, and Barton are the inner most circle of your business, your trust, and your family. We really should act better."

"Damn right you should," Steve scolded the two men. "I'm getting really tired of having to have this conversation so get your shit with each other fixed and together pronto before I kick both of your asses. It's not a request either."

"Well, Barton is running the business tonight, Steve, so you can relax. He's the only one in this circle not here right now and he's been in it longer than me or Sam," Nat informed Steve.

"I know and I wouldn't relax with things in anyone else's hands, truth be told."

"Go get ready and let us take care of everything else!"

"Fine, Natasha, but I better not catch any of you spying once she's here!"

"Go before I punch you!"

Steve left the room without a word and headed towards his master suite. He had to trust the people he was closest to where tonight was concerned. He had to dial back on the control issues. He really did. He just wanted tonight to go perfectly. Deep down he knew a romantic was inside of him, underneath the exterior of the crime boss. He was dealing weapons, owning nightclubs, and running other such financial ventures that were not all exactly legal. Steve still lived by a code. He had rules. He didn't deal in drugs and there was to be no harming of women or children. It was this code of rules that helped him sleep at night. Steve knew Stark didn't hold to any sort of rules like this. The man was ruthless in his dealings. Steve would rather lose a deal or make less money than compromise his morals. They meant far too much to him. He wanted Alexandra to know and understand this about him. He was a man of principle despite the kind of business he was truly in because being true to those things were what made him a better man in the end. He felt like it kept his conscious clean or as clean as possible. This is the man he was raised to be by his parents, particularly his mother, who also told him that non of this would be worth it unless he had someone by his side that he loved and loved him in return. He wanted to romance her. He didn't know how things would go tonight, but he certainly was going to try to ensnare her completely before the night was over.

It's not a fantasy

Another mystery

It's just what I can feel

And something I can see

It's like a memory

And in a melody

It's just what we all know

And we all hear

Alexa was nervously sitting at her vanity with her robe tied over her lingerie, keeping her covered while Wanda came waltzing into the room with an outfit and shoes. She flashed her friend a wide smile as she waited to see what Wanda was so excited about. Wanda presented her with a black dress that was more casual than the one she had worn to dinner at the Pierce's home, simple black pumps, and then started showing her what jewelry pieces and purse she would put with the outfit. Alexa knew she wouldn't have been calm at all trying to do this herself. Wanda really was her lifeline. She was nothing but a giant ball of nerves because she was more than attracted to Steve. She knew that for certain. She, also, had a feeling from things she had heard from her Dad that Steve was in a similar line of work. Her Dad likely thought she knew very little about the family business. He paid so little attention to her that he had no idea what she knew and didn't know of his business dealings. She knew all too well how he felt about Steve and that they were rivals. In all honesty, Alexa didn't care. She liked Steve and no longer cared about what Tony Stark thought since he'd never been much of a father to her at all. All Alexa was focusing on was her happiness, as she found it to be more important than her father liking what her choices are. She felt very strongly that her path to happiness had something to do with Steve, so she was following this feeling like her life depended on it.

She had taken the dress from Wanda then went to put it on. At her best friends' suggestion, she still opted for the black lace lingerie underneath the dress. Wanda said Alexa still should feel sexy whether or not he's going to see it. Once she has the dress on, she walked back out to Wanda who was waiting for her at the vanity with a sly smile spread across her lips.

"You're going to have him eating out of your hands because you look hot," Wanda remarked. "Sit down girl, so I can finish your hair and make up."

"Oh please, Wanda," Alexa replied. "I'm an inexperienced virgin that has no clue what the hell I'm doing."

"Then let him guide you. If he wants you, then your inexperience won't matter. You know he'll know what he's doing."

Alexa was laughing nervously as she sat down at the vanity. Wanda laughed along with her as she started work on her make up. She did her best to relax while Wanda fixed her make up then her hair. This time her hair was styled down in a wavy look, pinned off to one side. Her friend helped her with her jewelry and purse then she put on the heels as Wanda went to find her a jacket. Alexa stood to her feet once she had her shoes on and examined herself in the mirror. She felt her nerves trying to eat her alive. Wanda placed a hand on her shoulder and slightly startled her. She took a deep breath before taking the jacket Wanda was holding out for her. It was a casual black blazer that was trimmed with lace and went perfectly with her outfit. Alexa slipped the jacket on and smiled at her friend. It was almost time to go. Alexa was having to remind herself how to breathe. Wanda gave her a tight hug and big smile. There was something magical about Wanda's hugs to her. She had a best friend who was like magic in a bottle, and she honestly wasn't sure what she would do without her.

"What would I do without you?" Alexa asked her friend. "I'm being serious here, Wanda. It's almost time to go and I wouldn't be calm at all if not for you."

"You're the best friend that anyone could ask for and anyone would be thankful to call you a friend," Wanda responded. "I do it all out of love because you're like a sister to me."

"It would have been nice to have a sister."

"You do now and have as long as you've had me."

"You better not go anywhere on me."

"I won't. Promise."

"Good and I promise not to go anywhere on you."

"That's even better."

"I want to tonight to go well, Wanda. I do really like him."

"Just relax and it will."

"That kiss, Wanda. It was literally electric."

"Go with the flow, Alexa. You got this. The way you've talked about Steve since the other night tells me that you can do this. You need to stop overthinking."

"I really don't know if that's possible."

Wanda let out a chuckle and looked at the time on her phone, seeing it was time to get Alexa downstairs for her date. She handed Alexa her purse before grabbing her own bag. She then put an arm around her friend and lead her out of the apartment, pausing a moment for Alexa to lock up, before they made their way to the elevator. She made sure to give her friend some final words of encouragement to help calm Alexa's nerves on the elevator ride down and the walk out of the building. They shared a last hug before parting ways, Alexa to the car Steve sent and Wanda towards the subway.

I was blind

I was closed down

Could not feel

Or set it free

Steve walked out into his patio with a glass of whiskey to take a look at Natasha's handy work. She'd hung curtain lights around an outdoor couch for him and Alexa to sit and talk after dinner. The way she'd set it up made it look little more like a bed with the pillows and ottomans that extended it out. How cheeky of her. She advises him to not think with his cock and then sets this up. It was like throwing temptation at his feet. He laughed to himself slightly as he walked over to the dinner table. He took another sip of his whiskey as he saw the lights set up around it. It was beautiful and romantic. He sighed aloud as he took another sip. He was nervous about tonight and just wanted it to go perfectly. He'd never seen a woman more beautiful than Alexa and was eager to taste those sweet lips of hers again.

"Hey, Romeo," he heard Natasha call from the doorway. "Your Juliet will be here soon. I'm glad you opted for something a bit less formal with the khakis and the button down."

"You don't like it?" He questioned in response.

"I didn't say that, Steve! It looks great! Now hurry up with that whiskey and give me that glass. I've got wine chilling at the dinner table."

Steve gave her a slight laugh before finishing his drink and handing her the glass. Natasha smiled before going back into the penthouse, leaving Steve out in the patio to nervously await Alexa's arrival. Natasha had just emerged from leaving Steve's dirty glass in the kitchen when the main entrance door to the penthouse opened to reveal Sam escorting Alexa inside. Natasha examined the young woman in front of her. She was as beautiful as both Steve and Sam had described. She felt Bucky come up beside her and wrap an arm around her as they watched Sam take her jacket and purse. She wore a black cocktail dress and heels with simple make up, which made it clear to Natasha that Alexa was far from superficial. She could see the nervous smile on the girl's face as she approached them with Sam having gone to put away her jacket and purse.

"You must be Alexa," Natasha greeted warmly as she reached a hand out to her and smiled. "I'm Natasha and this is my husband Bucky."

"Who is also Steve's best friend," Bucky added. "We grew up together."

Alexa smiled and clasped Natasha's hand, shaking it firmly before repeating the same action with Bucky, "It's very lovely to meet you both."

"Likewise, Alexa. Steve has good taste."

"Ok, now that Sam is back in the kitchen, I need to get you to Steve," Natasha stated. "Don't mind my husband. He's a bit of a flirt, though a harmless one."

"Not harmless to you."

"We'll be talking later in Russian, dear."

"Ooh you're in trouble, Barnes!" Sam shouted from the kitchen doorway.

"Get your ass back in that kitchen making those beignets, Wilson!" Bucky yelled as he started walking in that direction.

Alexa started laughing, "Are they always like this?"

"Sometimes worse," Natasha answered with a laugh.

"That must make life interesting."

"It can. We're all equals to Steve in his eyes. It's just Sam is from New Orleans and makes great beignets."

"Steve treats you all as his equals?"

"You're shocked I can tell. Stark not work that way?"

"Absolutely not. There's a clear 'know your place' hierarchy in Dad's organization. He thinks I don't know as much as I do, but I'm not blind."

Natasha was easily able to tell Alexa's shock at the way Steve saw all of them. It was in her eyes and her facial expression. The change in her tone when she spoke of her father, Tony Stark, was one of obvious contempt. This may be easier than they imagined it to be if she really, truly felt that way about him.

"You know," Natasha said to her. "I think we're going to be good friends."

"I think so too," Alexa replied with a smile.

"Steve's out on the patio. I'll take you to him."

Natasha finished leading Alexa through the main living area to the patio doors. She opened the door for Alexa and Steve met them on the other side with a smile. She watched as both of their faces lit up at the sight of each other and knew that whether Steve or Alexa planned it, they were falling in love. Natasha was good at noticing these things and always turned out to be right. She went back inside to leave the new lovebirds to enjoy their date.

Energize me with a simple touch

Or with an open heart

Energize me, fire up this flame

That's burning between us

"Love is brewing," Natasha spoke aloud to Bucky who had just come from the kitchen.

"You think so?" He asked in response.

"I saw the way they looked at each other. I know so."

"Romantic Steve is finally falling."

"Even better news. I don't think she's a big fan of her dear old dad."

"Why do you say that?"

"Her tone of voice when speaking of him was one of complete and utter disdain."

"How ironic and wonderful."

"Now why don't we go back to our rooms."

"I like that idea because if he catches us trying to spy he will kill is both."

"Hopefully Wilson won't be stupid."

"Isn't he always?"

"Be nice, honey. You promised Steve. Now let's go."

Bucky let out a laugh as Natasha leaned on her husband and they began to walk out of the living room area towards their private living quarters. As much as they wanted to spy on Steve's date, they knew the best thing would be to give him some privacy that he deserved with Alexa.

It lies in everyone

This swelling energy

It's all around us too

Electrifying you

So can't you set it free?

This virtue is the key

Just something we all know

And we are used

Steve lead Alexa out onto the patio. He leaned down and planted a chaste kiss on her lips. She looked absolutely beautiful. He had to keep the kiss chaste and simple or he wouldn't be able to control himself at all.

"You look absolutely beautiful," he smiled.

"Not so bad yourself, handsome," she smiled back as she looked around at the set up. "Does it always look like this or did you do this for tonight?"

"Natasha did some special additions for tonight. I had ideas and she ran with them."

"From the little time I've spoken with her I'm not surprised honestly."

Steve let out a hearty laugh completely unsurprised that Natasha was already winning her over. He was happy to know that. He then began to lead her in the direction of the dinner table.

"She told me that you treat your people as equals. I find that admirable," Alexa commented.

"You know about the business I'm in?" He inquired.

"And, that you and my Dad are serious rivals? Yes, I do."

Steve looked at her a bit stunned. They were now facing each other. He was impressed with her knowledge. Now he just needed to know how she felt about it.

"Does that bother you?" He asked her as they stepped closer to each other.

"Not at all," She answered. "I'm not a big fan of my Dad, you see. He never was much of a parent."

"Yet you admire me?"

"I do. In truth, you're a good man. I can tell. It's about your principles, Steve, which is something you obviously have that my Dad seriously lacks."

"I've had my suspicions there."

"And, you'd be right."

"What would he say to this?"

"Oh he'd blow a gasket!"

They both began to laugh as Steve pulled Alexa completely into his arms. Their eyes locked just before he bent his head down to meet her lips in a sweet kiss. The kiss deepened as her body practically melted into his. He used his tongue to gently part her lips before hers eagerly joined his in a passionate dance. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck as his tightened around her waist, pressing her as close to his body as she could get. Steve could feel his arousal grow as she moaned into his mouth as the kiss continued to grow deeper. His pants were growing uncomfortably tight and he was certain she could tell. Alexa felt that wetness form between her thighs again, except this time it wasn't stopping and she knew her panties were a sopping mess. What was this kiss doing to her? She was pretty sure she wasn't going to be able to remember to breathe after this. He pulled their bodies even closer together as her hands ruffled through his hair. She could feel his growing erection through his pants and started to wonder if they were even going to make it to eat dinner.

"I've been waiting since you got out of my car to go into your building the other night to do that," he spoke as their lips parted and foreheads touched.

"I'm so glad you did," she replied breathlessly.

"Why don't we enjoy some dinner then we can spend some time on the seated area I had set up for us. How does that sound?"

"Quite lovely actually."

"We're supposed to have beignets if Bucky didn't sneak into the kitchen and eat them all."

Alexa let out a warm, genuine laugh as Steve lead them the rest of the way to the table. He was the perfect gentleman as he pulled out Alexa's chair for her and pushing it back in once she sat down. He even served their wine. Alexa was beyond impressed with this man. She did not want him to be too good to be true. No, she needed him to be real. This was the kind of man women dreamed of finding so Alexa desperately needed this to be the real Steve.

He watched her smiling at him as he took his own seat at the table. The silence between them in those moments he knew wasn't awkward but nerves. Steve could tell. It was in her eyes. He was sure it was in his own too. They both wanted this. That's exactly what it said.

I can feel

It's inside me

Open up

Enlighten me

"Few people see this side of me," Steve remarked. "The relaxed version I mean."

"It wouldn't be good for business if too many knew this Steve," she replied with a smile.

"I'm not a completely cold and calculating boss."

"You didn't have to say that for me to know it."

"How can you tell?"

"The loyalty of your top lieutenants. They're loyal because they want to be, not because they have to be. My Dad has very little of that."

"I give my people an out if they want it. It may cost something but it won't cost their life."

"Cost what?"

"If they owe me money then they've got to settle all monetary balances."

"That's it?"

"And sign a non disclosure contractual agreement."

"That way they can't talk to anyone."

"Exactly."

"That's brilliant."

"Thank you."

"Having the option to get out at all says a lot about you."

"What does it say?"

"You value them, all of them. It means that their lives and happiness mean something to you. It tells me that you truly value life itself and those around you. I think it also means that you're truly respected by those you have working for you. Do many leave?"

"No. I've had none leave since I took over unless they retired or died. I can assure you that the deaths had nothing to do with me."

"I believe you, Steve. You're too honorable to lie and something tells me you're a shitty liar."

"That's what Natasha says."

Alexa burst into laughter. She could feel herself letting her shell come apart as they discussed how he ran his business. He truly was an amazing man and the complete opposite of her dad. He was the breath of fresh air she truly needed in her life. It made her smile genuinely at him to feel safe to be so open as she began to eat the meal before her. He smiled back as he'd began to do the same. Their text exchanges earlier in the day and yesterday hadn't been this deep nor had they eased her nerves about this date. She was hoping that the fact she liked him wasn't too obvious.

Steve had laughed with her. He found her laugh to be exhilarating and beautiful. They'd both begin to eat their dinner. He'd requested the chef make eggplant parmigiana with a side of grilled vegetables, since she'd mentioned in her text it was one of her favorites. He loved watched her smile at him between bites and sips of wine. He found her beautiful inside and out. How could he possible use her for any reason? He just wanted to make her his own. The fact that her being with him would get deep under the skin of Tony Stark would be a bonus. There was an innocence about her that was especially noticeable when she blushed. He loved it as he watched her shy away when their eyes would meet as they ate.

Energize me with a simple touch

Or with an open heart

Energize me, fire up this flame

That's burning between us

"What brought you to working for the Mayor?" Steve inquired.

"I'm studying Political Science and Communications," Alexa answered. "I knew it would be good experience and piss my Dad off."

"You want to piss him off?"

"Actually, I do. That seems to confuse you."

He raised an eyebrow at her slightly as she let out a slight laugh. He never expected her to have this kind of attitude towards Tony. This was a very unexpected twist.

"I just didn't quite expect you to not be completely loyal to him," Steve said with a smile.

"Oh, Steve, you'll find that I'm full of surprises," she grinned. "My father is the last person I'm going to be loyal to when he's never been there for me."

"He's doesn't know that does he?"

"Not at all. I want him to be shocked, surprised, angry, and every possible emotion when he discovers this exists."

"You like my company that much so far?"

"I do."

"Good because I like yours too."

Energize me with a simple smile

Open up your mind

Energize me activate that light

That's given and taken

They smiled at each other. There was a warmth in their shared look that was obvious they'd both noticed. Steve stood up from his seat and walked around the table to her. He offered her his hand and she instantly took it. He helped her up from the table and pulled her close, breathing in her scent he found found intoxicating. She leaned into him before looking up into his eyes and smiling. He turned and lead her over to the seated area he had set up for them. She sat down and he followed before pulling her close to him. She turned to face him and placed her legs over the top of his. He laid an arm over the top of her legs and she leaned closer into him. Neither of them were able to stop smiling as their foreheads touched.

"You say all these things about me, Alexa, but do you even notice a thing about yourself?" Steve questioned her as he gently caressed her face with his other hand.

She looked down slightly before responding, "I'm not sure what you mean."

"Alexa, you're more than just beautiful. You're intelligent, insightful, and obviously caring with the way you talk about admiring a moral code. It shows you're beautiful inside and out, all the way to your soul."

"Steve, I'm not that special."

"With all you've said to me tonight? You're probably the most amazing woman I've ever met."

Can you believe in the power that's burning between us?

Would you believe if you open up your mind

Open up your mind

Alexa felt her cheeks turn red as she tries to turn her face away from him because she couldn't see in herself what he saw in her. He used his hand to turn her gaze back towards him before sweetly kissing her lips.

"I wish you could see yourself as I do," he spoke as their lips parted.

"It does mean I'm not some superficial narcissist," she replied with a smile.

"Was that a jibe at your father?"

"You caught me."

"I know you have problems with him, Alexa, and I'm sorry for that."

"It's no one's fault but his. Honestly, he doesn't even realize it. It would be even better if he'd leave me alone to live my life."

"You want to be free of him?"

"Whatever it takes."

"What is it you want, Alexa?"

"The life the life I choose for me, and I'd like that to include you."

"You can definitely have that. In case you haven't noticed, I don't give a flying fuck what Tony Stark thinks. I'm glad you want me in your life because I want you in mine."

"Steve, you're serious?"

"I tell you that you're the most incredible woman I've ever met and you doubt me now because I want to be with you?"

"It's so silly I know."

"You're damn right it is! It's very silly. Of course, I'm serious! Do I need to prove it to you?"

Alexa was silent, completely unsure of what to say, when suddenly Steve's lips came furiously crashing into hers. There were no words needed between them. The kiss began to deepen and they both needed to be closer to each other. The need to touch more was driving them both insane. Alexa moved her legs that had been laying in top of his so that she could completely change the dynamic. She broke the kiss briefly to re-adjust the way she was positioned before placing one leg over both of his, completely straddling him, and taking his lips with with her own to resume the kiss. Steve had not expected Alexa to do that and he was more turned on than ever as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her body as close to his as he possibly could. He only wanted her more now. She just officially made it harder for him to stop. He moved his lips from hers and began to trail his down her neck. A slight moan escaped her lips as he began to suckle slightly on the tender skin of her neck before pulling her closer to him and them to where she was laying flat on the chaise. He was now hovering above her as their lips connected again. She slipped her right leg up and around his waist as he began to move his lips to her neck again.

Steve was going insane as he tasted her skin. He could feel just how aroused he'd become because of just how uncomfortable his pants now had become. He was caressing her left leg as his lips found hers again. It was a deep, passionate kiss that had her wrapping her hands around his neck as he slid his hand up her leg and under dress to caress her thigh. Alexa craves more as she pushed her body upward against his, feeling the wetness pooling between her legs made her ache for that hand of his in her thigh to come closer to her heat. She wanted him to touch her. She needed it. His hand moved closer and reached towards her panties, just touching the edge of the lace. He moved his hand closer towards her center feeling just how soaked she was as he barely brushed over her, making her shiver, as their lips parted.

Energize me with a simple touch

Or with an open heart

Energize me, fire up this flame

That's burning between us

"I'm not going to do anything you don't want me to, Alexa," he assured her softly. "If you want me to stop..."

"I don't want to stop, Steve," She interrupted, half out of breath.

"Please don't stop."

"Are you sure?"

"Touch me, Steve. Please..."

Her pleading was all he needed. Their lips met again as he slid her panties to the side and slipped a finger into her dripping folds. She moaned into his mouth as he began to rub his thumb over her clit. He could feel how tight she was as he began to pump his finger in and out of her. Steve had this feeling Sam was right and Alexa was very likely a virgin. She let out a loud moan as he again moved his lips to her neck. Her back arched as she pushed her body upward to him and he added a second finger. His fingers pumped in and out of her as his mouth continued to ravish her neck. The noises she was making made him crave more of her as the speed of his fingers increased. Alexa could feel a sensation building within her she'd never known or felt before. She cried out as his lips moved down her body towards her collarbone and his thumb continued to massage her clit. He could feel her walls clinching around his fingers and knew she was about to reach her climax.

"You need to let go, sweetheart," he observed as he lifted his lips from her body. "Let go so you can feel the pleasure."

"Oh God, Steve!" she practically screamed as she let the orgasm ride through her and her legs were shaking.

"There you go."

He kissed her sweetly as he slid his fingers out of her. He wanted more but he just couldn't push this. He could tell she'd never been touched before this. What he needed to know was what she wanted. Alexa was coming down from a high of ecstasy and now all she wanted was more. She already desired him but now that she'd felt this, all she could do was yearn for more.

"Please, Steve..." she pleaded.

"You want more?" He questioned.

"I don't want you to stop."

"Are you certain this is what you want?"

"Yes, I am."

"Stay right here."

He gave her a quick kiss before sliding out from above her and standing up beside the chaise. She looked over at him, curious as to what he was doing and raised an eyebrow.

"Steve, what are you doing?" She inquired as she began to sit up.

He bent down and scooped her up into his arms bridal style before standing back fully upright. She wrapped her arms around his neck and their eyes met.

"I'm taking you to my bed," he explained with a wicked smirk forming on his lips.

Energize me with a simple smile

Open up your mind

Energize me, fire up this flame

That's burning forever

Author's Note

Chapter 4 is written and completed. I just have to type it up. It will be posted in a few days so keep a look out. Things are getting hot and heavy for Steve and Alexa! I'd love to hear what you're thinking so far! We are just getting started. There's a lot more to come including trouble from Tony. He will be showing up soon. Stay tuned and hold on for more action! - Leia

Read more by visiting my Masterlist or the Steve Rogers Masterlist

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fandomwritings-cm13 · 1 year

Text

Wife of a Future Mob Boss (Dark!Bucky Barnes, Dark!Steve Rogers) - Chapter 2

Summary: Bucky must find a wife for himself and have children with her in order to take his father’s position as head of the mob. When Bucky makes no move on his own, his father takes things into his own hands. Lilly Slater and her roommate Demi are taken before Mr. Barnes, and what happens next shocks them both.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x OC, Steve Rogers x OC

Word Count: 2949

Warnings: dark themes, cursing, mentions of violence (future), noncon and rape, cursing, toxic relationships, Stockholm syndrome (if you squint, more to come later), SMUT

This chapter contains smut. DO NOT READ if you are uncomfortable with reading smut OR are under the age of 18!!! By clicking “Keep Reading,” you agree to these statements.

“Why are there two? Didn’t I send you for one?” the older man questions.

“It was difficult to tell which you wanted, sir,” one of the men sheepishly answers.

The older man turns to the brunette. “What do you think, James?”

The brunette looks at both me and Demi, his expression revealing absolutely nothing.

Fuck.

I shift uncomfortably, praying this is all some strange dream I’ll jolt awake from soon. A second later, I feel Demi’s hand take mine, and it draws my gaze down to my lap. I then look at her, biting the inside of my lip as tears well up in my eyes. She squeezes my hand for a second as she smiles gently at me.

“Take her away,” the older man orders.

Two men grab Demi, and she grips me a little tighter.

“Let go of me, you bastards!” She shouts, kicking at them. “I’m not leaving without her!”

“You’re more than welcome to die here then,” the older man states coldly, causing Demi to freeze and look at him. “There’s nothing you can do for your friend, except perhaps leaving peacefully.”

Demi sneers at him. “I’ll get her out of here. She doesn’t deserve this.”

The man chuckles. “You won’t be alive long enough to enjoy having her back if you do anything, even breathe a word of this to anyone.”

My heart sinks in my chest at my fate, and now Demi’s, too. She looks at me, reaching out. Before I can grab her hand, she’s yanked away and practically dragged out of the room.

“James, take her up to your room for the night,” the man orders.

James comes around the desk and grabs my arm, lifting me from my seat and dragging me out of the room. His pace is quick, so I struggle to keep up.

“Couldn’t you slow down a little?” I snap.

He chuckles, the sound falling from his lips without any genuine amusement. “You’re in no position to be having an attitude, doll.”

“I don’t know who you guys are or what you want, but if you let me go, I won’t tell anyone a thi-”

“As lovely as that sounds, my father has made a decision, and he won’t back down on it unless you give him a reason to.” He stops at a door and finally looks me in the eye. “I would advise you not to though. It’d only serve to complicate my life further.”

He drags me into the room and shuts the door behind him. Once the door is closed, he turns to me and pulls out a knife.

“If you don’t want me, then why am I here?” I ask sharply, doing my best to appear strong despite how uncomfortably my heart is racing.

He cuts the binding around my wrists then looks me in the eye once again. “In order to take over for my father, he has certain requirements for me. The primary one is having a wife and at least one child. That’s where you come into things. I, however, want nothing to do with marriage. I’m quite happy with how I’ve lived my life thus far, and having you around won’t change that.” He studies my eyes for a couple seconds. “I sleep with who I want, when I want, and there’s nothing you can say or do to change my mind.”

The door opens, but James doesn’t turn to see who it is. I look over his shoulder to see the dirty blonde who stood beside him earlier. He, however, lingers by the door.

“Is my father satisfied, Steve?” James inquires, his gaze still trained on me.

“For now, at least,” the other man replies, crossing his arms over his chest.

James smirks. “We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

He grabs my wrists and pulls me into him, his lips going to my ear. I can clearly see Steve across the room, and it makes me blush how he’s watching us.

“You and I will be fucking every day, whenever I feel like it, until you fall pregnant,” James whispers. “After that, you’re no longer my problem. I go back to fucking around with whoever I want.” He pulls away and smirks at me, his voice normal when he continues speaking. “Steve will be taking care of you then. Is that clear?”

I glare up at him. “You must be stupid to think I want anything to do with you!”

I try to pull my wrists out of his grip, but he only tightens his hold and pulls me back close to him.

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll just cooperate,” he chides, an eyebrow raised.

“I-... I don’t want this,” I whisper. “Please, just let me go.”

I jump and turn a little when I feel two warm hands on my hips. It’s Steve standing right behind me. A different hand, calloused like the one grasping my wrists, under my chin brings my gaze back to James.

“I don’t know what I want to do to you first,” he declares, his hand ghosting from my chin down my neck and between my breasts.

My breaths shake as I exhale. As his hands continue wandering down my body, I again try to pull my wrists free of his grip.

“Just relax,” Steve whispers in my ear, gently squeezing my hips.

I shake my head and try to squirm out of his grip as well.

“Like he said, this’ll all be easier if you just go along with it.”

“Please… I-, I can’t do this.”

“Doll, stop fighting this,” James commands, grabbing the waistband of my pajama shorts. “I’ll have to put that mouth to better use if you don’t stop trying to convince me to let you go.”

He pulls me closer using his grip on my shorts, and Steve follows just behind. I’m sandwiched between the two, their body heat making me squirm. I whimper and shut my eyes tightly as James’ fingers ghost over my panty line.

“What do you say, Steve?” James questions arrogantly. He brings his hand back up to my face, gripping my chin. “Shall we see what she’s capable of?”

“I think that’d be wise,” Steve breathes, the warm air going down my neck.

I shudder as Steve places a small kiss at the nape of my neck.

“On your knees, doll,” James commands, smirking at me.

My eyes widen and my jaw goes slack in shock.

When I don’t move, his hand goes to my shoulder and forces me down. Steve’s hands leave my hips as I sink to the floor. My heart races as I stare up at James, my knees digging into the rather soft carpet. I don’t have much time to consider it before he’s unzipping his slacks. I shake my head and try to back away only to run into Steve’s shins.

“Come on, doll,” James scolds. “Don’t play coy with me now.”

“I don’t-” I begin.

I freeze when I feel lips on my neck again. Warm hands slip under the hem of my thin pajama shirt, settling into place on my hips again. One hand begins drifting up my side and ends up kneading my breast. I sink back into the warm body behind me, closing my eyes as his lips continue wandering the skin of my neck.

I gasp as his tongue licks a stripe up my neck. I barely register the hands weaving into my hair until I feel an intrusion. I look up at James, but his features are cold as he forces his dick past my lips. He lets out a soft moan once he’s fully sheathed. As I swallow, he moans louder. It’s at that point, he seems to lose his control as he begins thrusting into my mouth.

As he continues his thrusts, it becomes difficult for me to breathe properly. I’m again distracted by what’s going on with one of the two men, so I don’t notice what the other is doing until there’s another intrusion. I moan against James’ thrusts when Steve’s fingers find my clit.

“Oh fuck,” James hisses, pulling out of my mouth.

Despite James stopping, Steve continues and takes it another step further, slipping a finger into me. I whine and squirm, which causes him to wrap his other arm around my waist. This effectively holds me against him as he continues finger fucking me.

“That feel good, doll?” Steve murmurs in my ear.

I nod a little too quickly.

I feel him smirk against my neck as he plants another kiss against my neck. He adds a second finger and begins thrusting faster. My breaths are ragged as I throw my head back onto his shoulder, and I grasp at his arm. He chuckles softly, and his teeth scrape along my neck as his lips continue moving along my neck. He sucks and bites his way down my neck, likely leaving marks all along the way.

“Shit, that’s hot as fuck,” James groans.

Steve chuckles before nibbling on my ear. I moan quietly, arching my back as his thumb rubs circles on my clit.

“You think she’s ready?” James questions huskily.

Steve nods as he rests his head against mine. Hardly a second passes until he pulls his fingers out of me. I whine at the loss, watching as he sucks his fingers clean. My head is fuzzy, and my mouth is slightly open as I watch him clean his fingers of my arousal.

My gaze doesn’t move from him until there are hands grasping my arms which pull me to my feet. I waver slightly but am quickly steadied by another pair of hands again low on my hips.

“It must have been some time since you’ve even been touched, doll,” James mocks. “Or are we just that good?”

“It’s none of your business,” I reply, trying to sound tough but my voice is weak as it sounds more like a sigh.

“Are you ready for more?” Steve whispers, kissing just behind my ear.

I whine and push on his hands. “No, I-, I don’t want this.”

James chuckles, his eyes staring into mine. They’re cold and hold no emotion.

I squirm as his fingers toy with the hem of my shirt then brush along my waist.

A warm, gentle hand on my back guides me away from James and to the bed. I turn and see Steve at my side, and he smiles gently at me, tucking some hair behind my ear. His touch lingers for another second before I’m shoved down onto the bed. A second later, my pajama pants are pulled down, my panties along with them.

Before I have the chance to process the action, James has thrusted into me. He moves slowly, stopping once he’s again fully sheathed.

“Holy shit, doll,” he groans. “So wet and warm. I’m not going to last very long.”

He pulls back a little then thrusts back in. I bite my lip to keep the noises in that threaten to escape. However, I can’t stop the whine that passes my lips when he hits a soft spot in me.

“That feel good? Hm?” he questions, mocking almost, and drives into that spot repeatedly.

I arch my back, pushing back against his thrusts, as his fingers find my clit and egg me closer to the impending pleasure.

“Shit,” he gasps, his trusts stilling deep within as a warmth fills me.

My body goes limp into the bed, my heart racing and my breaths fast.

As James pulls out, another set of warm hands steadies me. One remains at my waist as the other moves my leg onto the bed. I groan at the movement.

“I know, darling,” Steve murmurs. “Let me take care of you. Just relax.”

His hand ghosts up my thigh and towards my core. A strangled gasp leaves my lips when his fingers reach my clit.

He kisses the inside of my thigh as his fingers move faster, to which I whimper and try to move away.

“Do you want me to stop?” Steve asks, moving his fingers away. I reach back and grab his wrist before he moves too far away.

“No, no please,” I beg. “It’s just too much...”

“Just relax.” His hand soothes the back of my leg. “I’ve got you.”

I nod quickly.

“Lilly?”

“Please...”

The pleasure ignites in my veins again as he continues his previous movements. My hands grip the sheets tightly, and the moan gets caught in my throat as the pleasure comes to a head.

When my mind clears after a few moments, I recognize Steve’s hand on my back.

“You with me, Lilly?” he asks.

I nod slowly and try to lift myself.

“Here, allow me.”

I take the hand he offers. His other goes to my waist as he carefully guides me into standing. He leads the way into the en-suite bathroom, where the tub is already filled with water and several candles are lit.

“Use the toilet,” he commands though his voice is soft. “I’ll finish getting your bath ready.”

He kneels at the sink and opens the cabinet underneath. I linger for a second longer before taking a seat on the toilet, blushing slightly.

“What would you like?” Steve inquires, keeping his gaze away from me.

“For what?” I reply, shifting my feet on the rug below them.

“I figured a bubble bath may be relaxing for you before bed, with the night you’ve had.”

“What are my options?”

“There’s lavender, eucalyptus and mint, orange, lilac and vanilla...”

“Um,” I pause, my gaze shifting to my feet, “Lavender is fine.”

“Is there something else you’d prefer?”

I shake my head.

“Are you sure? It’s no trouble to get something else.”

“It’s fine. I don’t need anything else.”

“Well, let me know if you change your mind.” He rises to his feet and sets the bottle on the sink counter. “I’ll be just outside if you need me.”

I watch as he exits the room and shuts the door behind him. The tension leaves me once I finally have a private moment to breathe.

Once I’ve finished using the toilet, I flush and wash my hands, my gaze wandering to the steaming tub across the room. It’s certainly appealing, given the events of tonight.

I pull my pajama shirt over my head and drop it on the floor at my feet before approaching the tub, sinking into the hot water carefully. As I settle in, my gaze goes around the room but stops on the bottle of bubble bath still on the sink.

“Stupid,” I mutter understand my breath, putting my face in my hands. “Whatever.”

I finish settling into place and allow the warm water to ease my muscles until the water starts getting cold. I push the drain stopper then rise to my feet.

A knock coming from the door scares the shit out of me, but it’s cracked open a second later.

“You getting out?” Steve’s voice comes through the crack.

“Yes,” I answer simply.

“There’s a towel for you on the rack to your right and clean clothes out here for you.”

I blink quickly, unsure of what to say. Frankly, I’m shocked. He’s obviously nicer than James, to some degree.

“Thanks,” I breathe as I step out of the tub and reach for the towel.

The door is closed as I begin drying off. I wrap the towel around me before I approach the door. Before fully stepping out, I poke my head out, finding Steve seated at the vanity not far from the door. He looks over as I close the door behind me.

“They’re on the bed,” he states.

I make my way over to the bed, keeping my back to him. “Why did you stick around?”

“Buck can get pretty rough. Just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t feel it as bad in the morning.”

I pull on the panties without taking off the towel. But when I glance over my shoulder at him, Steve’s eyes are on the floor. I quickly pull on the nightgown and start for the bathroom again.

“I got it,” Steve interjects, quick to take the towel from me.

Unsure of what else to do, I simply stand where he left me as he returns my towel to the bathroom. I eye him carefully once he shuts the bathroom door again, though he keeps some distance between us.

“Do you normally stick around when James-”

“I didn’t,” he interrupts. “I couldn’t.” He looks down at his feet. “I figured you’d like some privacy and then some time to yourself. You must be feeling overwhelmed.”

“You have no idea...”

He shakes his head. “I’ll be back in the morning with some breakfast. You’ll want to get plenty of sleep. He’s taking you to the courthouse tomorrow.”

My brows furrow in both confusion and anger. “What for?”

“To see a judge so the two of you are legally considered married.”

“That’s it? Nothing special, not a choice for me?”

“I’m sorry, Lilly.”

“If you were, you wouldn’t make me stay here.”

He frowns. “You have no idea what you’re asking.”

Tears well in my eyes. “I just want to go home...”

He steps closer, cupping my face in one hand and the other resting on my waist. “We’ll make it feel like home as best we can, you and I. I promise I’ll do my best to help you acclimate to all of this.”

I shake my head, tears quickly slipping down my cheeks.

He pulls me closer and plants a gentle kiss to my forehead. “It’ll get easier. Just trust me.”

#chloewritesfandoms #dark!bucky barnes #dark!steve rogers #dark!au #bucky x oc #steve rogers x oc

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marvelvillian23 · 9 months

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Does anyone know a marvel, supernatural, Teen wolf, or original work on Ao3(tumblr too) when the oc/reader is plus size? Like shy/sweet and the omc is a bad boy/mean at first. Any plus size really story.

It would be nice if it was a series but I’ll take anything. It could be fluff, dark, or angst? I do not care at this point.

I’m also in the mood for bully x nerd so if anyone has some that’s not plus size, that’s fine please send my way. Also mean obsessive teacher. Because I can’t find any.

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whatshername86 · 2 years

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Chapter 1 - Nyx "The Betrayal"

Just trying to get the background set before the real story starts. All Errors are my own. I don't have a lot of writing experience and will never claim to be a writer. Honestly, I’m pretty horrible at writing. Pace is to fast in places. Please be forgiving.

Possible triggers due to Rape/Non-Con First Chapter. Also referenced in later chapters as well.

Summary: Once upon a time a solid relationship is tested by many obstacles and antagonism. It finally shatters when an unforgivable betrayal occurs… Or was it? Not everything is as it appears.

This is a story surrounding Nyx. A special ops soldier, part-time S.H.I.E.L.D agent, friend, lover, protector of the one Black Widow. The character Nyx has an enhancement of Adaptability, so refined and perfected that she can bend even the darkness and light within any given room. She’s just an all-around BAMF.

The story will contain some Team Captain Bashing, specifically Steve Rogers, Wanda Maximoff, Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes. And further tags will be added to future chapters if needed.

But I had an idea, and it wouldn’t leave me alone.

No one knows her real name just the title. Nyx. People who were around in Nyx's formable years are all dead or just lost touch for such an extended period that they are now strangers.

Nyx was born different. Her mother noticed the differences from her birth. Nyx learned things rapidly. Milestones such as crawling, walking, talking were ahead of her age range. Nyx grew up strong, had love, a solid foundation and support that would shape her into the person that she would become.

It’s been said that a person’s overall personality traits are shaped by the time an individual reaches the age of five.

When Nyx was in the womb her father was killed in his duties as a beat cop on the streets of New York City, her mother was a NYC detective who would eventually be the Lieutenant of her unit. At the peak of her career, Nyx’s mother was killed by a stray bullet on her way home from work.

At the age of seventeen Nyx was essentially an orphan. With no family left and looking for an excuse to get away from the city that had taken so much from her. Nyx joined the United States Marine Corp.

Her plan was to become a simple soldier and contribute to society in any way that she could.

During boot camp Nyx gained attention from the brass due to her high marks. Nyx wouldn’t be the first enhanced that had joined the service nor would she be the last. What she didn’t know was that enhanced individuals were put into special categories or standards. They were put under tighter scrutiny before they prove themselves. Although this should be something that is objective from the commanding officer.

The reality is that the Commanding Offices opinion is very much subjective.

Nyx lucked out with her command.

Commander Gabriel Samson was in charge of a special unit called the ‘DEMI’s’. This unit was deep within the shadows of the black ops' community. Samson recruited, trained and commanded people to perform impossible tasks. His group received assignments not meant to be successfully. Unlike most Samson saw his people as individuals, or young adults who were used and abused in most situations. So, he made it his mission to protect his unit from all that would cross the line and take away a person's right to choose. With this protection the group had unquestionable loyalty to Samson. Under his guidance the unit became stuff of legend. The military who worked directly or as a result of situations cleaned up by the DEMI’s looked at the unit respectfully and admired the dedication.

Samson scoped Nyx up the last week of boot camp. He pushed her to her limits and beyond. He was the one that gave her the name Nyx. Due to the work that the unit perform all former identities and aliases were erased. It was an easy choice for Nyx to join the DEMI program.

Under Samson’s tutelage Nyx was motivated to improve and grow in her abilities in a way that hadn't occurred since her mother died. She became the North Star for the group. Samson helped Nyx identify her enhancement.

The best way to describe it is the ability to adapt to any situation and overcome it. Nyx’s speed, healing capacity, strength, senses, fighting strategy, situational awareness and eventually light manipulation increased in any given challenge when necessary. She rose through the ranks within the group quickly due to her abilities and determination.

The DEMI’s work with other agencies when necessary. Agencies such as the FBI, CIA, Homeland Security, S.H.I.E.L.D and other foreign military groups.

While working with S.H.I.E.L.D. Nyx found herself on a mission to take down the one and only Black Widow. Director Fury put Nyx onto the mission with Agent Barton because all other agents sent after the widow before, came back in a body bag.

The mission was supposed to be a simple in & out. Take her down and then comeback. However, Nyx saw something different in her eyes when coming upon her in an alley.

Nyx had halted Barton when he was about to make his shot from the roof tops. After debriefing with Barton, the decision to bring the now known Natasha into the fold of S.H.I.E.L.D. instead of eliminating her was made.

The romance between Nyx and Natasha was slow in the beginning. Natasha was hard to get close to. And with Nyx working primarily with her unit, her time with S.H.I.E.L.D. was very limited. Over time a repour was made and with it more interactions. A spark was lit that would grow into a steady fire.

When the two of them started their romance, it was like a trickle of water draining out of a crack in a wall. Trusting one with your heart was a hard concept for the both of them. But when it was finally given, it was forever. Clint, Fury, Maria and the DEMI’s all were cautiously optimistic for you both. As the relationship grew, they received the full support of all their closest friends.

Nyx had heard about Fury’s goal of getting a group of highly train and/or enhanced individuals together to fight world changing events, or in other words his very own version of the DEMI’s from Natasha.

Personally, Nyx thought it was a horrible idea. The group would be overseen by Fury. With no real designated leader for the group out in the field. No cohesion. Just tossing people together because it makes sense in the old man’s mind doesn’t mean that the group is going to work out in the long run. He is purposely keeping everyone involved off balance so that they are easier to control.

Natasha and Clint were put onto the list of Avenger recruits from the start. Nyx thought the two of them being added was stupid due to both working undercover as spies. It was nothing to do with their skill level but the notoriety the Avengers would eventually bring them both. Nyx expressed this concern to Natasha in the comfort of their home. Natasha reassured Nyx that they both were added to even out the group. Clint and Natasha were the only two with any kind of formal training.

For some reason they both followed Fury’s word as gospel. He had given them both a shot at using the ill-gotten skills in a way that was making a positive difference.

Over the years Fury has tried to scalp or control the DEMI group. But the military wasn’t stupid enough to allow a secret organization to get their hands on DEMI permanently. S.H.I.E.L.D. isn’t really completely trusted by other agencies. With all of the underhand tactics a lot of the other branches didn't care a lot for S.H.I.E.L.D.

Steve Rogers aka Captain America was added to the roster when he was thawed. Tony Stark was offered a consultant position within the group due to the Iron Man stint that he had going on. Bruce Banner aka The Hulk was tagged as well.

Nyx saw a disaster in the making.

Rogers didn’t have any real training or experience leading a group of enhanced. Lying on enlistment forms, becoming a walking tank due to experimentation after completing only three days of boot camp, then put onto the USO tour to support and sell War bonds.

He eventually led a group of soldiers who in reality were led by Colonel Philips. Nyx had read reports from the Army Colonel. Rogers had a short fuse which was a problem before the serum was injected. Despised the rules and other ideals that he didn’t agree with. And if you didn’t agree with his morality, then you were evil or a bully. He had a habit for disobeying orders. Favoritism within the squad was a known issue and supported by Rogers. Steve never tried to get a better handle on his new enhancement. Philips marked it as a concern once wartime was over.

Stark didn’t have any track record with working within any other combat group setting. On the plus side he is a genius. He is one of the top minds of the generation. Though Stark has been known to coordinate with Military groups when tracking down some of his misplaced weaponry, so he had a general idea of procedures.

Banner is a runner, enough said. He has no control over the Hulk. He will never learn control as long as he is afraid of himself. Intelligent but known behavioral issues or problems with anger. A warped view of flight or fight.

Fury was relying on manipulation and Natasha to herd squirrels. Clint was supplying backup and support. The group came together for the attack on NYC. And then stuck together for better or worse. Natasha said she saw a potential or at least a reason for the group’s existence. Her inclusion in the group put a strain on their relationship. It tested it in more ways than the time and distance from each because of their respective careers. But they always made it a point to be supportive of each other, even with the distant, a deeper love and understanding persisted.

Nyx refused to work on any missions coordinated by Rogers. She disagreed with his leadership of such a group. Due to the refusal her previous working assignments partnered with Clint or Natasha became almost non-existent. She had minimum contact with the rest of the group after initial introductions.

The relationship remained strong through the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. With all the hurtles that they experienced Nyx never imagined that it would end like this.

Which brings us to the present.

With Nyx looking into the eyes of the women that she loved with her whole heart as the red head gets pounded into the mattress by one Wanda Maximoff. She obviously didn’t expect Nyx to arrive early from the mission with DEMI. That is apparent as she pushes Wanda off of her and scrambles to cover herself.

Nyx stands there shocked and crushed that this could happen in the first place. But based off the location being their shared home and the fact that Wanda is wearing Natasha’s favorite strap, Nyx realizes that this has been a regular occurrence or at least that is what she believes. She's about to lose her shit when the witch struts passed Nyx with a smirk on her face, she then made her way to the living room with her clothes.

The sadness is bypassed completely at this moment and replaced by unbridled rage as Nyx looks back at Natasha. She has risen from the bed with the sheets around her.

Nat shakenly reaches her hand out to touch her long-time girlfriend, she has tears starting to develop under her lashes. ‘Please…’ she whispers.

‘Don’t even think about fucking touching me!’ Nyx growl out between clenched teeth.

Nyx quickly makes her way to the closet to pack what she needed and what is most valuable to her.

‘It wasn’t supposed to be like this.’ Natasha says as she chokes out a sob as she freezes in place. The magnitude of this moment is not lost on her. She doesn’t remember how it started or why it continued. But she knows that she has just lost something irreplaceable. Something that could never be replicated with anyone else. She is so lost in the thick fog of her mind; she doesn’t register that Nyx is nearing the end of her packing.

It’s like trying to get out of quicksand. As she stands there losing what has been the most important person to her, she can’t get any words out. Her thoughts are clouded. She’s trying to scream but doesn’t know why it's a soundless scream. No noise is coming out of her mouth.

Nyx looked over at the red head one last time before throwing the duffle onto her shoulder. She couldn't leave without saying her piece.

With solid steps Nyx moves within an arm’s length away from Nat.

‘I can’t believe that you could did this to me.’ She points to her chest and shakenly breathe deeply through her nose and blow it out of her month. ‘Out of all of the shitty things you have done over the years this hadn’t crossed my mind as a possibility.’

‘I loved you with every piece of me. I gave you all of myself. My trust, loyalty. Hell, I would have given you, my life!’. Taking a step back Nyx expect some sort of reaction or response, but Natasha is standing there with her Widow mask on. She’s no longer showing any vulnerability just a stone face.

Nyx briefly wonders why? But she knows that it doesn’t matter why or how long. All that matters to her is that she chose to do this to her. An unforgiveable sin in her eyes. After all of the years together.

The whispers and promises of a bright future, with a large house and children. She can’t believe that Natasha would throw that away for a young woman that she has only been mentoring for a few months. A young woman that Nat couldn’t trust or stand previously. She shakes her head and walks out of what was once home.

If Nyx was thinking clearly or without the vail of hurt and betrayal so fresh. She would have seen how uncharacteristic this whole affair was. How Natasha’s behavior is just wrong. Natasha is a fighter. She wouldn’t just stand and take anything. She is also the most loyal in their relationship. It’s a result of years of needing to lie and manipulate all of those around her and being lied too in return. The both of you had always made it a point to be open and honest in this relationship from the very beginning.

A glance back to her, Nyx might have seen a crimson color invading the once forest green of the redheads’ eyes.

Natasha is still locked into place, unable to speak. She is just standing there in a prison with only a window to look out of as she watches Nyx walk away from her for what she knows will be the last time. Her head is splitting, with one final attempt to reach out to Nyx she nearly blacks out completely.

The silence of the room is interrupted by the slam of the front door.

Moments later.

Wanda quietly walks back into the room, now dressed and a sympathetic small smile on her face.

She grabs Natasha’s cheeks as she glazes into clouded green eyes with the red from her magic flaring.

‘This was for the best’ she said. While applying pressure she continues, ‘I can’t have her around. My place on this team needs to be cemented. And you will be easier to control now that your greatest strength, your protector is gone.’ She leans down to kiss Natasha on the forehead before pulling back and whispering in her ear. ‘If it's any consolation you fought the whole time. But at last, you couldn’t fight me forever.’

Wanda pulls back with a sneer on her face but keeps Natasha’s face in her hands.

‘You will never speak of this encounter or what has been spoken. You will never contact Nyx. You will continue to act as you have been.’ she states after a pause.

Wanda should feel disgust or shame at her actions. But she needs the protection of the Avengers. She doesn’t want to be in prison or under the scrutiny of the government. Joining the Avengers gave her money, power and a new shiny reputation as a hero.

Steve was easy. He saw her as the first steps of bringing his precious Bucky back. A young girl that made mistakes but would look up to him for guidance.

Sam followed everything Steve relayed and didn’t really concern her much. He was an easy pawn.

Tony was already stepping back. And with Ultron Steve used these excuses to get Tony further away from the Bucky searches. And away from the truth of the matter. Thor was already gone.

Bruce ran away the first chance he could after the fight with Ultron.

Clint retired but she had already planted the seed of being a young delicate girl that needs protection and a family to make up for her fallen brother.

She needed Natasha to open the doors within the team for her. Wanda will be unilaterally accepted within S.H.I.E.L.D, Clint, Tony and Bruce if she gained Natasha support.

Natasha was looking into Wanda’s past and started questioning her place on the team. Wanda couldn’t have that.

Natasha also had to be punished for not falling in line.

So, Wanda decided to take away what matters the most to Natasha. The very reason she fights so hard. And she had to do it in a way that would ensure that Nyx wouldn’t return or look any further than skin deep.

It was all a formality for Wanda really. She had learned quickly that her power didn’t work on Nyx. And it muffled the affect that is had on those in her viscidity. She had learned that Nyx was coming home early from Vision.

She decided to put her plan in action. Gaining entry into the home was quite easy. Awaiting Natasha’s return allowed her to find the cherry on top of the cake and the rest is now history. With Nyx permanently away, Natasha and the rest will be easier to control. She’ll have to work on getting Natasha closer to Steve now.

Being with Nyx had always put a strain on Steve and Natasha’s relationship.

Natasha had always reminded Steve of Peggy in away, so he gravitated to her. To Natasha Steve was what Nyx saw him as. But she had to placate him in a way that he viewed her to always be agreeing with him, while she is in the shadows working around him without his knowledge.

Vision. Precious and naïve Vision. Easy to access, with some slight affection. He is easy to maneuver. With him and her together they will be unstoppable. She just has to wrap up this mess quickly.

With one last thought of the now vacate Red Head. Wanda makes her way to the bedroom door.

Afterall, she has a bright future to plan.

#natasha romanoff x reader #marvel #natasha romanoff #dark wanda maximoff #steve rogers bashing #natasha romanoff x oc

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 8 months

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Shameless

Sequel to Graceless

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, manipulation, dejection, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

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

Summary: The reader attempts to move past her ruination, but is reminded of her tarnish conscience at every turn. (Regency AU, tall!reader)

Character: Steve Rogers, Thor Odinson

Note: Here we are. The sequel but not the end.

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

Love you like I love coffee and that’s a lot and probably unhealthy. Take care. 💖

The string of the glove’s seam trails loosely from the thumb. You twist the thread, playing with it, but doing little to mend it. Even with a needle in hand, you have no whim to darn. There are many things in life that cannot be repaired no matter how you try. Occurrences which cannot be taken back.

You pull at the seam until a hole forms in it. You poke your finger through with no heed for the glove’s integrity. You detest that pair anyhow. The very same you wore… that day.

Albina lays at the foot of the bed, her head bent back over the edge as she peruses one of her novellas. Hannah and Cora disappeared ages ago and you only just heard them through the windows. They are likely causing chaos in the gardens. You hope your mother finds them and issues a reprimand for their immaturity.

The autumn thins the air as it creeps in around the window frame and you smell that discerning scent of dirt and leaves. Only a week and it feels as if the whole world has changed seasons. Your world has transformed irrevocably.

There’s a clatter and you glance over as Albina rolls onto her side. She’s always hated to be disturbed amid her stories. She huffs and falls onto her back to begin again, but the door bursts open, your two other sisters tromping through with excitement.

Albina shuts her book loudly and sighs as she sits up. You go back to your exploration of the glove, watching the thread stretch along the seam as you tug. If only that were Cora. If only you could rent her pretty hair from her pretty head. Or in the least, swat the smug grin from her lips.

You can’t even look at her. It just makes you think of him. Of how stupid you’d been. You believed his promises were meant for you but it’s only as you relive that haunting episode every night that you realise, he never proclaimed his intent for you, only alluded to a vague offer. Another mean trick.

“Lord Rogers has sent a gift,” Cora trills as she stands at the vanity, shuffling something unseen before her. Hannah stands at her side, bouncing with anticipation.

“Oh, what do you think it is?” Hannah chimes.

“Could you not unveil it in the sunroom, where there is no one reading?” Albina says as she drags herself to the edge of the bed, resting her book on her skirts.

“Could you not get your head out of those ridiculous fancies,” Cora retorts over her shoulder, “if you ever do for long enough, you might just find a husband too.”

You don’t look up. You refuse to give her the satisfaction. You haven’t missed her wandering glances, how she taunts you without even a word. She turns back to her gift and rustles beneath the thick paper.

“Oh, heavens,” she swoons and spins, “isn’t it beautiful?”

“Are those rubies?” Hannah preens.

“I think.”

“Garnet?” Albina suggests.

“No, no, surely they are rubies,” Cora insists. “Do you see?” She swirls around the room closer to you, “I must find the perfect gown to wear with this. Oh, he would fawn to see me in his ribbon, wouldn’t he, sister?”

You grip the glove tight as her figure looms over you. With your other hand, you clutch the needle, letting it jab into your palm until your eyes prick. You nod, “very beautiful.”

You stand the moment you get the words free of your dry throat. You try to smile but can only muster a strained grimace. You try to step past Cora but she moves with you.

“You’ve not even looked,” she says, “how would know how beautiful it is?”

“Cora, please.”

“No, no, have a look. It’s so elegant, isn’t it?”

You clamp your lips together. Your insides tangle painfully. Even as the tenderness leaves the bruises in your thighs, you swear they hurt just as much as the day after. You sniff.

“Please, move out of my way,” you beg.

“Oh, sister, why must you be so dour? Is that jealousy I sense?”

“No,” you snarl. Jealousy. Oh, something much deeper, something agonizing. “I said move.”

“Move? Well, it looks like I am the first to wear a title so it is me who should be issuing the orders, don’t you think?”

“Oh, Cor, you are not duchess yet,” Albina reproaches, “let her pass.”

The heat rises up your back and crawls onto your neck. You feel like you’re suffocating. You feel like the walls are closer together, as if the world is hewn in fire. It is all burning down around you.

“She is being a sour little brat about it, Al,” Cora snaps, “it isn’t fair of her to ruin my engagement. I don’t know where she ever got the idea that Lord Rogers had any mind for h–”

You don’t think. You need to get out of here. You shove Cora out of your way and stomp past her as she gasps. You drop the glove as the needle sinks further into your palm. You sweep out of the door and hurry down the corridor. You hear her, whining pitifully as you flee.

“She shoved me! She–”

“Oh, you did goad her,” Albina’s quiet scolding follows you to the stairs, “put that ribbon away, you’ll only ruin it.”

Ruin…

The word clings to you as you barrel down the stairs, as if running from your own shame and anger. You love your sister, you would never wish anything horrid on her, but you can’t help that small whisper in your mind that suggests that Lord Rogers may just treat her as cruelly as he has done you.

💙

The autumn continues its slow advance, nipping in the air and at the foliage alike. You smell the crispness as it wafts through the open window of the carriage, cooling the cluster of bodies within. Your father rides with the driver, guffawing loudly with the clop of hooves. Your mother fans herself as she needles away with her relentless critique.

…Albina, push your shoulders back; Hannah, keep your lips shut tight, you don’t need horseflies wandering in; You, fix your bonnet, it is dipping at the front; Oh, Cora, isn’t that a lovely ribbon…

You try not to mope. The more you do, the more pleasure Cora takes in her victory. You will forget it, you will go on as you’ve ever done. Dejected. You fold one hand around the other, your palm tender from the bite of the needle still wrought into your flesh.

You look up as the carriage slows. The lush green of the promenade tinges with edges of russet and patches of goldenrod. Lords and ladies stroll along the brickwork walkway, skirts swishing around languid steps, arms hooked in one another, others perched upon benches or huddled around the grand fountain at the center.

Your father climbs down as the driver unlatches the door. Your mother emerges first, her fan clapping shut sharply and knocking against the frame. Cora is second, then Albina, Hannah, and yourself. You come out behind them and feel your height all the more. You hunch and grip your wrist tight.

“Do not slouch,” your mother looks back and raps your arm with her fan, “no lord wants to walk alongside a hobbling giant.”

“Yes, mother,” you correct yourself and let your vision drift off into a vacant blur.

“Ladies,” a familiar timbre approaches with a pair of footsteps, “you’ve arrived.”

You refuse to look at Lord Rogers as he stands just along your peripheral. He greets your mother with a cordial bow of his head and shakes your father’s hand. At last, he addresses his betrothed as she wiggles in her skirts and nearly squeaks.

“Lord Rogers,” she drawls, “I wore the rubies.”

“Beautiful,” he praises, “my lady, might I request a stroll upon the promenade?”

“Aye, you may,” your father answers, volunteering himself as escort.

“Sir,” Rogers accepts elegantly and offers his arm to Cora, “and perhaps a few more daughters might care to join us?”

“They will remain with me,” your mother insists, “we would like to see the roses.”

You wait until they’ve departed to dare a peek at them. Lord Rogers struts away confidently with his arm through Cora’s. Your father trails them with his brass-tipped cane. Your ribs rack as if they might collapse in on themselves.

“Come girls, the autumn will wilt away the roses,” your mother declares, “let us make our rounds, perhaps we might have two engagements this season, hm?”

You linger behind the others. You keep your head down as you watch the toes of your boots poke out from beneath your skirts with each step. Your led by the hem of your sisters ahead of you.

As you approach the hoop of rose bushes, there is an unexpected furor. Voices trill and flutter, a booming laugh that rolls like thunder. You raise your eyes and see a blond head above a cluster of hats. You don't recognise the lord amid the clan of amused men.

"How rowdy," your mother remarks in her curmudgeon way.

She ignores the pluck of glee for the thorny tangles. Hannah and Albina give longing looks to the uproar but dutifully accompany your mother to the hedges. The eldest of your quartet pets the paling pink petals and grieves the browning at the edges.

The dullness of that moment feels like a promise. This is how life will always be for someone like you. You will never know excitement, you will only ever be a witness, a scrap of collateral left to squander.

You pretend to admire the greenery. The colours are faded and worn. Just like everything since that night. As you are.

You smell the leaves and the pollen and you're taken back to that moonlit moment. The cool air on your skin, the friction of his figure, his weight trapping you on the stone.

The leaves mesh together in a tapestry of swirling hues. You quickly dab your eyes before your tears can spill over. Those bouts come suddenly and dry up just as soon. You cannot let it take you here.

An emptiness enshrines you and you peer over to find yourself all alone. Your sisters and your mother have left you, forgotten you. Not such an unexpected plight but painful nonetheless. You turn in search of them and nearly collide with another.

You press yourself to the bushes behind you and swallow a gasp, creaking out an apology.

"Apologies, my lord, I did not see you–"

"Lady," the man greets with a courteous dip of his chin, looking down at you. Down! He is even taller than you.

The same lord with the blond hair who had a crowd raucous. You do not know him. He is rather older than any courtly debut.

"You mustn't catch yourself," he reaches around you delicately and untangles a fold of your skirt from the thorny vines, "it is too fine a dress to tarnish."

"Thank you, sir, it seems I am a bit obtuse at the moment," you force a smile.

He is very handsome. He eyes a brighter shade than even Lord Rogers and his hair even more golden. That comparison urges you back to the ground. You are still you and you cannot be so foolish as to let yourself believe contrary ever again.

"Might I–"

"I spy–"

You speak at the same time and both correct yourself. You defer and touch your lips in embarrassment, "apologies, once more, I keep treading on your toes."

"I have tough toes," he japes, "I meant to ask if I might have your name."

"Oh, yes, sir," you give him your name, "I admit I am ignorant of your own identity."

"Ah, yes, I have come from far," he grins, "Lord Thor Odinson, of Asgard."

"Asgard, why that is very far," you comment, "well, sir, it was a delight to meet you. Welcome to our homeland."

"A privilege," he returns, "if I might be so forward, as I am a stranger to this land, I would extend to you an invitation to dinner as I acquaint myself with your country. Would that be too improper?"

"Sir," you flutter your fingers at your side as you stand awkwardly before him, "I would needs ask my father."

"Yes, certainly you would, as you are unwed," he says as if untwining a riddle, "I do hope you will be permitted."

"My lord," you bow your head, "my mother…"

You look past him to your mother's fan as she beckons to you with it. Lord Odinson steps aside and extends his arm in gallant dismissal. You shift to move past him.

"Thank you, my lord."

"Allow me to thank you, lady, for entertaining my tedious conversation," he counters and you quickly flit away.

You near your mother as your other sisters crowd her. She is jibbering behind her fan, "...an ambassador," she says and snaps together the folds, "I hope you did not spoil our welcome."

"Mother?" You look at her in confusion, your cheek hot and tingling still.

"With that Lord, he did invite us to a dinner," she explains, "it would be very important for your father."

You shake your head. You don't argue. Ah, but the invitation was extended to all. Are you so foolish to think otherwise? You must shield yourself in the harsh lesson you've been taught. You are not and can never be special.

💙

The night of Lord Odinson's dinner arrives. You wear a gown of black patterned with deep green vines. Plain attire in contrast to Cora's shining scarlet silk, Alvina's buoyant blue bodice, and Hannah's deep rose sleeves. You add a simple beaded ribbon around your head, and a string of pearls around your neck.

"Dour," your mother remarks as she emerges in a tangerine satin, "ah, Cora, my darling, you look splendid. And to think, now that your engagement is public, you will be a pretty ornament on Lord Rogers' arm."

"Mother," she preens, averting her eyes in feigned modesty.

You clutch your reticule tight and glance over as you hear the approach of hooves. It is Lord Rogers' coach. The vehicle bustles towards the gates, open in expectation of him, and you look away. You can hardly bear the sight of red paint that decorates the doors.

His driver slows and breaks in the dirt. He greets your father as ever, gallant and proper. You put your teeth over your lower lip and peek up, catching the glint of Rogers' sapphire irises. His cheek dimples as his brows twitch. You swiftly rescind your gaze, favouring the dust on your slippers to him. He is as handsome as ever but to you, he is a vile cad. A demon clothed in cravat and vest.

He helps your mother first into the coach, then Cora, Hannah, Alvina, and finally yourself. He extends his gloved hand to you and you stare at his palm with disgust. You put your hand in his and step up into the vehicle. He squeezes before he lets go, a subtle tug on your skirt as you duck inside.

You sit on the bench between Albina and Hannah. You play with the strap of your reticule, focusing on it as you coil it like a snake. You only need to survive the journey to lord's manor. You've survived worse, and all at his hand.

💙

The manor is called The Nine Pillars, a rather strange name for a house, but referenced by the columns set into the stone walls. Each is topped with the facsimile of a different beast's head; a lion, a boar, a bear, a wolf, a falcon, a stallion, a bull, a viper, and an elephant. You lean over Albina to take it in, only to be nudged back to the middle.

You sigh and trail the part from the court. Attendants await your arrival at the broad steps of the manor house, the style much unlike that of the other courtly homes. The peak of the house resembles a warship overturned and the walls are without the typical white wash. It is very antiquated yet refined.

You enter the glowing hall, the glass lamps hung from the walls lit in an illuminating speckle. Voices carry from the drawing room where other guests gather and the bustle of the house staff flutters around the corridors and clamours from the kitchen. Your stole is taken by a groom and you nod in acknowledgement at his diligence. Your stomach swirls nervously.

The drawing room is a cluster of swishing skirts, flapping fans, and waggling coat tails. Your mother and father greet another older couple as your sisters disperse; Cora to show off her betrothed, Albina to whisper to Maria about her novels, and Hannah to gossip about the newest debuts. You find yourself lost before the sea of elegant figures.

You wade towards them, weaving between the bodies, looking around for any sense of welcome. Those who do see you, turn away quickly, as others pretend not to notice your towering form. You will find a place on the wall as you ever do.

"Lady," a deep voice calls but you don't bother to hear it. It cannot possibly be directed at you. It calls again, several times, before pronouncing your name. You spin to face Lord Odinson before you can retreat to your setinel against the wallpaper.

"My Lord," you greet him, "pardon me, there is much going on, I mustn't have heard you calling."

"Ah, but forgive me, it is rather uncouth to be shouting," he stops before you, "my mother always said I did blow in like a storm."

"Oh," you nod politely. You're not used to someone looking you in the eye, not without having to awkwardly contort your posture.

"She would like you, very much, I think."

"Why would you think that, my lord? You hardly know me."

"But I see you, a strong woman, built like a valkyrie. You are resilient and might I so forwardly say, resplendent."

"Sir?" You peer around, looking for an audience, for someone in collusion taking amusement from his false interest. It is always a trick.

"Again, I am the tempest, I cannot be subtle, not with a lady so stunning. Awe-inspiring. If I am the storm, you must be the sky," he remarks boldly.

You face him, a frown.

"Lady, it is a compliment," his face turns sober, "I hope I didn't overstep--"

"It is a joke. Who do you make laugh? For who am I the farce tonight?"

"Joke? Not at all. Never," he glances around the room. He is quiet as he takes in those around him. As he sees their elusive eyes and cold shoulders. "They cannot see what is right in front of them. A goddess--"

"No," you nearly sob, "no. I am not goddess." You bow your head, as you hear that same word from enough, a memory; Athena. "No sir," you put your chin up defiantly, "I will not be fooled by you."

"Fooled, my lady--"

"Excuse me," you shuffle away from him, "I need air..."

"Lady," he calls again but you elude him, delving into the crowd, marching away with head and shoulders down.

As you near the door, you hear a familiar laugh. You look to find Lord Rogers with Cora on his arm, his golden hair shining, her locks perfectly spiraled and set. He tilts his head towards her, "I call her my Athena," he says loudly, as if he knows you are listening, "for I worship her."

His eyes flick up and meet yours. You recoil and spin on your heel. Scalded, you flee into the hall and huddle into an alcove. No one would notice if you stayed out here all night.

💙

You sit among the guests at the table. The women chatter as the men speak in low voices about their business or some writ tabled in session that morning. You do neither as you're isolated in the fervor. As sherry and wine flows generously, you partake only of lemon water and loneliness.

You peer down the table and find yourself drawn to a pair of eyes. Lord Odinson. Where you expect tension or disappointment, you find only an amiable smile. He is almost dreamy as he watches you. You turn in your seat and look at Albina next to you, she's bent so far toward Hannah in her whispering that he likely cannot even see you.

You keep your gaze on the table. You will not encourage him. Lord Rogers taught you caution, he taught you your worth and not to think yourself above it. You feel suddenly sick, as if you could spew onto the table.

There is the clink of glass and someone clears their throat. The buzz around you hushes and all turn to the head of the table. You look over reluctantly. It is Lord Odinson, the host, about to make his toast. He stands, a crystal glass in hand.

"Welcome and thank you all for attending. You've all made me feel rather at home," he raises his glass and the guests mirror him. You lift yours a few seconds too late. He sets down the flute and continues, "and while you've all ingratiated me so kindly, I hope you might tolerate a little piece of my homeland."

He pauses and gestures to someone you can't see. A servant comes forward, holding a wooden box carved with symbols you don't recognise. Runes, perhaps.

"In my faith, there are the Valkyrie. They are the embodiment of female power and prestige and thus they are the keeper of our culture, of our ways. They are fertile and beautiful. So it is that each season, one lady is crowned as Valkyrie. I understand that I've come late but I am honoured to spend the season here, in your society. Thus, tonight has been more than a dinner..."

He stops as the servant opens the box. He takes out a crown of daisies wrought in gold and silver. He presents it to the room with a smile.

Cora leans forward as her eyes round in greed and the other women sit up, admiring the piece of jewelry and peeking at each other. You don't move, you stare at the wall and wait. You wonder who it will be. Maybe Cora or Maybelle and her doe eyes.

There is another lull, swollen with anticipation and intrigue. Lord Odinson gives a soft chuckle before he declares his valkyrie. No one speaks, none says a word. You blink. He speaks again.

You feel a nudge on your elbow as Albina leans towards you and whispers, "it's you."

You glance at her, then along the table. Cora's eyes are narrowed at you and Lord Rogers looks like he's chewing his own tongue. You turn your attention to Lord Odinson, trapped in surprise and disbelief.

"Yes, lady, please, come and claim your crown."

You grasp the arms of the chair and push it out as you rise. You walk stiffly, keenly aware of those watching you. You stride down the long table and near Lord Odinson. He faces you and hovers the crown over your head. You bow and he lowers it on, wiggling it to be sure it's firmly in place.

"It is I who shoulder defer to you, sweet lady," he lowers himself to a knee and bows his head, "our valkyrie."

The silence looms. You refuse to look back. You feel the stare, the disapproval, and disappointment. There's a clap and you flinch. Then another, and slowly the applause build.

Lord Odinson stands again and takes your hand, placing a kiss on your fingers. You meet his eyes, so intense you could melt.

"As I said," he keeps his timbre low, "it was not a joke."

💙

"Can I see it?" Albina asks as you go to set the crown on the narrow table.

"Oh, certainly," you turn to her. You're still burning with excitement. It's only one night, it doesn't mean anything, but it is a good night.

You hand her the crown and she takes it, admiring the craftwork with aw and showing it to Hannah as she nears. She places it on her head and rocks her shoulders.

"I am the valkyrie," she japes.

"No, I am the valkyrie," Hannah snatches the crown and dawns it.

"You are both children," Cora sneers as she shoves her ribbon of rubies into her jewelry box, "please, that lord is only here to pander to our king on his family's behalf. Nothing else."

"You're only jealous," Hannah rebukes.

"Am not," Cora stomps up and swipes the crown of daisies, "what would I need with a meaningless thing like this. Queen of what? The chimera? You don't even know what a valkyrie is."

"Nor do you," Hannah retorts.

"I do," Albina asserts, "they are an army of female warriors who lead the dead--"

"I do not give a fig," Cora flings the crown so it hits the bedframe and bounces off, "we don't believe in them here. That man is a fool."

"Oh, I saw you fawning over him, Cor," Albina goads, "don't lie. Rogers himself looked concerned."

"Fawning? Don't be silly."

You don't say a word as you go to fetch the crown from where it's fallen. You notice that one of the petals is bent out of shape. Oh, no.

"It's fine. She's right, it's just a silly crown."

"You all need to grow up," Cora insists, "as a woman soon to be married, I can see now how juvenile you lot are."

"Not married yet," Hannah snaps, "sooner the better if it means you're off."

"Charming, Hannah, I wonder why you've not had a proposal yet?"

Hannah waves her off with her hand and goes to Albina, "I'm tired. Help me out of my dress."

You turn away and set the crown on top of your own jewelry box. You take your time undoing the ribbon on your head and unclasping your pearls. You peel off your gloves and as you face the bed, you see Cora's hot glare.

"You'll see. That Lord Odinson will leave you behind and next season, you'll be on your way to a convent."

You swallow down her bitter words. Deep down, you don't doubt it. She is likely right but less than clairvoyant. You know better than any what your fate will be.

💙

You watch from the window as Cora walks in the gardens with Lord Rogers. Albina is in bed, moaning and rubbing her pelvis, as Hannah is downstairs with your mother stitching at her frame. The winds of autumn rattle the window frame and you back away, nervous to be caught observing.

You sit on the mattress and lean back against the pillow. Albina curls up on her side and faces you. You offer your hand and she latches on, squeezing. Her cramps have struck and she's already stained several shifts. Her blood has her in agony.

You don't mind keeping her company. Your own was due a week ago. You know because you've not stopped counting the days since... since Lord Rogers' proposal.

"I should hate to miss the promenade..." she mourns.

"You shouldn't miss very much," you assure her.

"Yes, but it will be cold soon. Too cold and it will snow and I will hate to go," she utters, "will you go?"

"Perhaps," you answer.

"And walk with Lord Odinson again?"

"If he wishes."

"I am certain he does. He is very friendly. Last night, when he told us of his families stronghold. About the mountains and the crossing rivers..."

"He has many stories," you agree, "and he tells them well."

"Oh, he does. He tells them for you."

"Pardon?" You nearly laugh.

"Sister, don't act clueless. He gave you his crown--"

"It was only a game."

"I do not think he plays."

"Why..."

"He always finds us on the promenade, doesn't he?"

"He is polite."

"Oh, you are stubborn."

You puff but don't argue further. She's wrong but she can't realise she is. She doesn't know what's happened, how you know for certain that he has no true intentions. That he cannot be any different than Lord Rogers.

💙

The hedges along the promenade are thinning. The roses have wilted away and the greenery curls and recedes. You wear a pair of lambskin gloves and an unlined cloak. It isn’t cold enough yet for fur.

As he does most days, Lord Rogers approaches to greet your family. Your mother and father bow to him briefly and bid their best before strolling off to meet with their peers. The betrothed couple will lead the way, as you walk behind with Hannah. Albina remains abed at home, her presence sorely missed as Hannah yawns and makes faces at the duke and his engaged.

You resist the urge to look around, to search for the man who crowned you valkyrie, the same who appeared at your side nearly every day. You restrained yourself from depending on his presence, from longing for it. He is a fleeting acquaintance, destined to return to Asgard one day. You shouldn't think so much of him.

“I wish we could have a summer wedding,” Lord Rogers declares, his voice raised loud enough for you to hear.

“But, my lord, that is so far away,” Cora protests, “so long as we wed before the snows, I will be content.”

“You, content. I am not mistaken, I know the sort of wife I’ve chosen,” he chides, “you only relish in that you might wear velvet.”

“Not at all my lord. I relish that I should marry you,” she preens, her arm hooked in his firmly.

You stare at the linking of their bodies. You remember the way he held you down, the way he cooed and coaxed, how he so softly coerced you. You should fear for your own sister, yet their misconceptions may be mutual.

“My ladies,” Lord Odinson’s voice precedes him and he steps up beside you, “and my lord. You are ashen, does the cold not agree with you?”

Lord Rogers glances over his shoulder, an edge in his jaw, “I handle it finely.”

You don’t mention he was only just longing for the summer. It isn’t any of your concern and you don’t very much care. Or you try not to.

“In Asgard, the winters, ah, they are splendid,” Odinson begins vibrantly, “there are days when the snow builds walls on its own and the next, they blow over to rippling oceans of frost. Endless and powdery.”

“Oh, we do not get so much snow here,” Hannah comments, “I don’t think I would survive such winters.”

You nod, listening intently as you picture the swirling snow and white dunes. It reminds you of a fairytale or a scene from one of Albina’s novels. Otherworldly and fantastical. Something entirely new and wonderful, but terrifying.

“And you, my valkyrie, would you face the blizzards?” Odinson challenges.

You hum thoughtfully. You know he is looking at you but you are too shy, too wary to return his gaze.

“I suppose with the proper cloak and a thick pair of boots, I might make it through, sir.”

“A coach and a horse, and any lady would say the same,” Rogers scoffs back at you, “girls hardly know the truth in matters of spirit. They can be overly presumptuous upon their own abilities.”

Odinson pushes his jacket back, hooking his finger in the pocket of his vest, “women are strong in ways men can never be. They carry lives, they bear the burden of the world, they maintain a grace lost on most men.”

“And the demure to the strength of men, to the wisdom they can never possess,” Rogers snaps back, laughing cruelly, “it is in the vows they take, is it not?”

“Only the strongest man can see the strength of women,” Odinson dismisses calmly, “my own mother keeps a pack of snow wolves. She goes out in the winter storms and reins her own sleigh. All while my father sits warm before his hearth. Her victories are not his losses.”

“Sounds rather quaint, Lord Odinson,” Rogers clucks, “your country strikes me as lacking civility.”

“Uncivil is a boring way of saying lively, and I promise, my home is much and more,” Odinson affirms, “but I think that fate has a way of placing us all where we belong, wouldn’t you agree?”

Rogers is quiet for a moment, his steps heavy as he strides on. He turns his head, his eye flicking between Odinson and yourself. He snorts and turns forward again.

“We must all take as we earn, accept what we do and do not get,” he says tritely, speaking animatedly with his hand in the air, “more often than not, we have only ourselves to thank… or blame.”

As cryptic as his words are, they are plain to you. That night with him was not unearned. Your foolishness bought your destruction. You must now live out your sentence of watching him walk arm in arm with another woman, your sister, everyday. You must accept that what he took can never be reclaimed.

💙

You sit in the garden, wrapped in a shawl as autumn breezes around the table. Your mother has a fur on her shoulders and your sisters chatter their teeth as they sip their tea. You rub your hands together, your gloves doing little against the crisp air. You suspect the days of dining without are close to done.

As you watch a leaf drift down from a branch, the hinges whine, and your father emerges from within. He gives an emphatic shiver as he claps his hands together. He seems rather pleases as he has his shoulders pushed back and his hat on a tilt.

"Daughters, my lovely wife, it is a beautiful day, is it not?"

You wonder at his uncharacteristic glee. Your father is ever practical and serious, on all matters. More so, he confounds as through the mutter of responses, he looks to you. You nod and agree with his sentiment softly.

"My daughter, my eldest, you... have a visitor."

You blink and withhold a grimace. He hates when you make faces. You force a smile and your voice crackles as you muster your voice.

"A visitor, father?"

"He is inside, he cannot have his tea alone," he says as if you should know who he alludes to.

You stand as Cora rolls her eyes, "who could be here for her?"

You notice how Albina and Hannah share a look. You cannot determine whether it is at your expense or Cora's.

"Daughter," your father drawls, "do not be sour that your betrothed eludes you."

"He does not--"

"So be happy for your sister and enjoy your tea."

She huffs and reaches for her cup. You step around her chair and approach your father. He smiles and as you near, he puts his hands on your arms. He is smiling. Genuinely.

"He has my blessing, of course, I will need accompany you to maintain propriety," he speaks quietly, "come."

You dip your chin down and meekly follow him inside. A servant pulls the door closed behind you. Your steps echo down the corridor as your father leads you to the sunroom. As you enter, there is some rustling and a subtle creak.

You peek up to find Lord Odinson standing with a hand on his vest. He bows to you and your father. You stop in the archway.

Your father proceeds, unaffected, and sits in the cushioned chair nearest the fireplace. He slaps his thighs as he splays his legs and grunts.

"Well, then, get on with it," your father grumbles.

Lord Odinson straightens his posture and gulps. He reaches up and toys with his cravat, the starch fabric already askew. He smiles, his cheeks reddening. He sways and looks between your father and yourself.

"I thought it very difficult to put this in ink but now I am here, I find the same is true of words," he says, laughing at his own joke, "so, lady, I trust this isn't very surprising to you. I've made my intentions clear and I've made your father a proposal, which he has graciously approved. Thus I put to you the question..." he twists his cravat, stops himself, then grips his jacket lapel, "would I be a fair husband to you? Er, or rather, would you... would you... honour me as a wife?"

The air stills and the chill that trailed you in dissipates. You blink dumbly and let your mouth fall open. You glance at your father. You understand his happiness now and yet you cannot believe it.

Your stomach churns and you clamp your mouth shut. The silence turns unbearable. You notice how Lord Odinson's cheek spasms and his complexion drains.

"Yes, sir, I... suppose... rather, I would..." you feel as if you're choking, "is it true? A marriage?"

"You wouldn't have to leave your homeland forever. I have some months ahead of me and my holdings here. We could visit--"

"Yes, yes, I will marry you," you murmur.

You hold your breath. Waiting. For one of them to break. For a peel of laughter between them. For it all to be another trick.

"Glory," Odinson exclaims as he proffers his hand, "shall we sit for tea, then, my valkyrie?"

You nod, unable to speak for fear of croaking. It is real. This man is real but you worry, his attention may yet prove false.

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