无标题

With ludicrous ease, Steve slams your body to the ground. His weight keeps you still, cheek pressed into the cool wood. Heat radiates off his body like a furnace, seeping from his skin to yours. His ire sizzles through the bond. You taste and feel it as his low growl rolls over your neck, right down to your spine, rising a sharp series of chills.

"Please," you beg, your fingers quivering as tears gather in your eyes.

"Sweetheart," he grunts, his hand clamping over the gooseflesh between your shoulder blades. "How will you ever learn?"

You gasp when his toned hips undulate against the swell of your ass, his obscene hard-on poking against your trembling flesh.

His lustful pants tickle your temple.

Please, please don’t let him find me, don’t let him f-

Your eyes widen as the door of the pantry swings open. You go still. You didn’t even hear him come.

His blue eyes are alight with barely contained rage. 

"There you are, sweetheart," he says, his slick, charming tone a contrast to the clenching in his jaw. "It’s not nice, hiding like that when I call for you."

"I-I’m sorry," you croak, a strangled sob escaping your mouth.

Steve pulls you out of your hiding spot with a firm tug on your arm, his steel grip crushing your bones. You gasp at the mess around you, the broken furniture, the shattered objects. It looks like a storm swept through the house. 

Steve’s brow arches. 

"Sorry, huh? You keep saying that, sweetheart… yet you keep running away."

He frames your chin harshly and you sniffle. His heated gaze ensnares you. 

"I know you feel it, sweetheart. You know I’m not happy."

It’s an understatement. His anger radiates through the bond, setting your cells on fire, so overwhelming you’re choking on it.

"Please, Steve. I just want to go home…" you beg.

He chuckles wryly, glaring down at you with a mix of pity and contempt.

"We’ve talked about this already, sweetheart. This is your home now." Steve heaves out a long sigh, heavy with frustration. "Playing hide and seek, throwing tantrums. You’re acting like a child." He scoffs, "Well, since you want to act like a child, I will treat you like one."

You’re suddenly hoisted off your feet. Despite all your squirming and your pounding over Steve’s back, he’s as unshakable as a brick wall. The way he carries you to his bedroom, you might as well weigh nothing at all.

Dread climbs up your insides the closer he gets to the bed. 

You don’t think you can handle him fucking you unconscious again. Every time you wake up sore and confused and with your legs unable to carry you anywhere for days. You still bear the claw marks he tore into your flesh, the panther inside him crawling up the surface whenever he loses his patience with you…which is all the time these days. It’s been a month and you’ve yet to adjust. You’re just relieved Grant isn’t here. It breaks your heart, lying to the little four year old, pretending his dad isn’t a literal monster. 

"No, Steve, I’m so sorry. I won’t do it again."

He hums and clucks his tongue, disappointment rumbling through his baritone. "I want to believe you, sweetheart. I really do. But until you've shown me I can trust you, a punishment is in order."

To your surprise, Steve doesn’t throw you on the bed but instead sits on it. He then parts his thighs and spreads you over them, lifting your sundress. Your heart stutters in your chest, as fright dances in your gut. 

His cock throbs against your hip at the sight of your bare ass, and he purrs low in his chest. A scream tears through your throat with the first slam of his hand against your ass cheeks. The harsh slap echoes through the room like thunder. Tears scald your eyes and sobs swell in your throat. 

"I only ask you two things…" Steve says, oddly calm as his hand comes down on your ass cheek again. You choke on your breath, the white hot pain blanking your thoughts. "Be a good little mate. And be a good mother to Grant." Your lungs are tight as you struggle to breathe, writhing in his lap to no avail. Your mind is dizzy as you howl, registering nothing but agony. "Why can't you simply do as you're told, sweetheart?"

You lose count of how many times he spanks you like you’re an unruly child. But eventually, he stops, a weary exhale unfurling from his mouth. 

He caresses your stinging ass cheek and you whimper. In a surprising show of mercy, Steve lays your limp, crying form down on the bed. You’re relieved that, at least, you’re on your stomach and don’t have to face him. The hot press of humiliation scorches your insides. He plants a kiss on the crown of your head and cups the side of your face. The bond swells with his devotion and boundless longing…but not an ounce of regret. Steve never regrets anything.

His breath washes over your scalp. 

He had been scoping out his target, a very terrible man who had been taking advantage of drunk women he took on dates. The man had been circling around your floral shop for three days when Steve had caught him.

Even after he had rid the earth of the scum, his curiosity got the better of him. He had been watching you for days to keep you safe, from a distance so that no one could connect him to the missing man. Yet, he had been lured in by your infectious smile and Steve found himself pushing in the door to meet you.

It was love at first sight, as people say. You fell so fast, his beautiful, shy girl that just got so flustered any time he complimented you. You were held in the highest regards to him, his princess and his love. If anyone even dared to think of touching you, he would break their hands.

You had moved into his home within six months of meeting him. Sure, it had been early in the relationship, but he had convinced you.

“I’d just feel safer with you here, baby, with me, where you belong,”Steve had confessed to you, large hands caressing your face so gently.”You want to be with me, don’t you?”

“More than anything,”You admitted in a soft whisper.

“Then move in with me. Be with me,”Steve nearly begged and he never begged. In fact, you had never seen Steve so vulnerable. He usually exuded power and dominance over you, often manhandling you in the bedroom and taking care of you in every way.”We’re all the matters. We go at our own time, and I…I love you, I’m never letting you go.”

The decision had been easy to make. You were so deep in love with him, you never questioned him. Not even when he returned home late at night or took multiple trips without you. You trusted him completely.

One thing that did change with your presence in the house was his involvement with the neighborhood. You were quite popular among the residents and often were invited to dinners by single dads and different suburban moms who just thought you were precious.

It was good. It was amazing, actually, because you were thriving and Steve had cover now. People saw him and loved him. They’d never suspect he was taking the lives of rotten men and women.

Except now, the single dads seemed to think he traveled a lot and that gave some sort of opportunity to steal you away.

Steve glared at the three men that crowded you by the drinks at the barbecue one of them were hosting. His grip was iron tight around the neck of his beer bottle, but Steve was imagining it was one of the men’s. The glass shattered under his strength, making multiple people jump.

You gasped, immediately running over to your boyfriend to check him for injuries while he played it off as “oh, sometimes i forget my own strength”

“You gotta be more careful, Steven,”You pouted at him, his full names slipping through your lips when you were worried or upset.

“I’m okay now, baby,”He assured you, breath hitching when you kneel down in front of him to clean up the glass. Steve swallowed thickly, trying to push the thought of what you could be doing on your knees. He wanted nothing more than to feel your tight throat squeezing his cock, choking on his massive shaft as you try desperately to take him just so he’ll praise you. Just the thought of the fat tears running down your cheeks made his cock fatten in his trousers.

“Are you sure?” You asked, tilting your head to look up at him with such kind eyes. Steve sucked in a breath at the sight of you gazing up at him.”Did you cut your hand?”

“It’s okay, baby, really. I just need wrap it for an hour or so, it will heal quickly,”Steve assured you, but you shook your head as you rose to your feet.

“Let me bandage now, let’s go to the bathroom, I think the Johnsons keep their first aid in there.”

Steve nodded, throwing a glare towards the single men that had been crowding you before letting you lead him away.

“You know I hate when you talk to them,”Steve told you with a huff.

“They know I’m in a relationship, Stevie,”You assured him casually, not thinking much of Steve’s jealously.

“What are you supposed to do when men flirt with you, baby?”Steve asked with a raised brow as you both slip into the main bathroom. He shut the door behind you,”You didn’t follow the rules.”

“I…I know,”You frowned, opening the cabinet to retrieve the first aid kit.”I was trying to get them to stop, I swear, but they don’t take me seriously.”

“I’ll take care of it,”Steve told you before lifting you chin up to look at him.”You’re mine, you understand? I don’t like when you forget that.”

“I know who I belong with,”You told him.

“Do you?”He asked, not even flinching when you wipe the blood from his minor wound and cleaned it.

“Yes,”You promised,”I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“Good girl,”He praised, his mind wondering to all the things he wished he could do those men who think they can take what’s his. His chest was still filled with jealously, desperately wanting to make some sort of claim on you.

Maybe he should mark you up more and make sure everyone knows who you belong to.

“See, now you’re all bandaged up,”You told him with a soft smile, kissing his knuckles gently.”Is there anything else I can do?”

Steve’s lips turned up into a smirk, brushing his fingers over your jaw.”Actually, there is, why don’t get back on those knees and show me what a good girl you are? Because I think my precious dove needs a reminder on who she belongs to, or did you think I wouldn’t notice how much you like the attention?”

His words knock the breath from your lungs, heat creeping into your cheeks at the thought of sucking Steve off in the bathroom of your friends’ house. “What if someone finds out?”

“Then they’ll know what a little slut you are for me,”Steve stepped closer, dipping his head down to brush his lips over your ear,”You are my little slut, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir,”You purred back at him, his hands slipping over your side and up to your shoulders before pushing you down to your knees.

You sank down, knees hitting the small soft rug on the bathroom tile. You flick your tongue across your lips, hands hesitantly coming up to the buckle of his jeans. You undo his belt with a small clink before unzipping and freeing his impressive cock from the fabric of his boxers.

You whimpered at the mere sight of his length, the fat cock slapping against his stomach with pre-cum leaking from the swollen head. Your mouth watered, eyeing the pulsing vein on the underside of his shaft.

Steve let out a deep groan when your hot tongue dragged from the bottom of his cock to the very tip. You were delighted by the hand caressing your face as you licked around his cock to get it nice and wet. You wrapped your hand around Steve’s shaft, stroking the impressive length just to feel him pulse in your hand.

“Suck.” Steve demanded, his cheeks turning a soft pink as you teased the head of his cock with your tongue. You were quick to follow his command, sticking your tongue out for your man to thrust into your warm mouth.

Slowly, Steve inched his cock into your mouth, a moan of relief echoing as his cock gliding over your tongue. You looked up at him, watching how his head fell back in bliss.

“That’s it, baby girl,” Steve grunted, running his hand over your hair before resting his hand on the back of your neck. You choke on his cock, throat constricting around him in such a pleasing way. He held you in place before pulling you off.

Your lips glisten with spit, heaving your chest at first before he was pushing his cock back into your mouth. He thrusted into your mouth, lips stretching around him as he uses your mouth as a fuck hole.

Drool pooled from the sides of your mouth, his cock prodding at back of your throat with each buck of his hips. He was a mess of moans, admiring how you slobbered ok his cock all messy like. Tears brimmed your waterline, threatening to spill and that only made him throb against your tongue. With one hard thrust, he held your bread in place. His cock was sheathed in the heat of your mouth as you gargled around his fat cock. You remember to breath through your nose as you choke so desperately around him. The tears spilled over, running down your pretty face before he yanked you off.

You whined at the loss, gazing up at him through your lashes with glossed over eyes. Your lips are swollen, jaw sore, and he’s still not done with you.

Steve rubbed his salvia coated cock against your lips, smear your drool over your chin and mouth.”Such a messy little slut. Just can’t help it, can you? So innocent, but I know the truth, you like this. You like being used and fucked like a whore.”

“Only for you….”You whispered, smiling up at him before holding your tongue for him to fuck your mouth like the good little slut you are.

“Atta girl. So desperate to please, my pathetic girl,”Steve cooed, slapping the head of his cock against your tongue. The lewd sounds of him shoving his cock down your throat echoed in the small bathroom, his hands firm on the back of your neck to control your movements.

You shifted on your knees, pussy dripping all over the fabric of your panties as Steve used your mouth as his personal fleshlight. His heavy balls smacked against your chin as he pounded into you. You didn’t even care how sore your jaw was or how raw your throat was becoming. All you wanted was for Steve to cum, you wanted to hear that praise after he coated you in his seed, it fueled your movement as you braved yourself by gripping his thighs so he wouldn’t knock you down with his harsh thrusts.

His eyes never left yours, admiring how wrecked you looked with mascara now running just a little bit down your cheeks. Something about you crying on his cock made his balls tighten and his dick throb.

Steve threw his head back in completely bliss, holding you still with your nose pressed against his abdomen. He relished in the tightness of your throat and how it constricted around him as he impaled you on his cock.

“What a fucking good girl,”Steve moaned your name, not even trying to keep quiet. No, he wanted all the men out in that party to hear how good his girl was servicing him.”That’s it, fuck!”

Steve coated throat in cum, spilling into you with a loud groan. He caressed your face, pulling out slowly and leaned down to kiss you. He can taste what remain of his cum on your lips, but he doesn’t care. Steve’s lips smashed against yours, playfully biting at your bottom lip before melting into the kiss with you.

“What do you say, baby?”Steve whispered, wiping the mascara and tears from your face as you chased his lips. He denied you another kiss until you gave the proper response.

“Thank you.”

Steve pulled you up from your knees, his arms around around your waist and you collided against his chest. You surged up to kiss him passionately, eager to feel his lips against yours. You wanted to get lost in him, always craving his touch. Steve was more than willingly to give you the affection you so desperately craved.

“You’re my best girl, you know that? I’d do anything for you,”Steve whispered against your soft lips.

“Anything?”You teased, gently grazing your fingers over his jaw.”Surely, there’s a few things you wouldn’t do for me.”

“It’s okay.” You forgive him, offering him a sympathetic look from the small glimpse of his tired face that you got through the small crowded space you were situated in, “Long day?” You ask, before going back to the board.

“You could say that.” You hear him say after a heavy sigh.

“I can imagine.” You reply, “Must be so hard being Captain.”

“Sometimes.” He shrugs, a smile playing at his lips as he tilts his head to get a better view of your panties through your suit, “But it’s rewarding.” He adds, eyes never leaving your ass that’s on full display for him right now.

“Not worth losing sleep over though.” You quirk, shining your torch on one of the chewed up wires. Rats? Tony Stark can afford all the gadgets in the world, yet he can’t control rats?

“Definitely not.” Steve sighs, “But it’s my job.”

Deciding that this electrical job needs much more than a simple repair, you start shuffling backwards out of the little tunnel, “Well, if you ever need help with any paperwork or anything-“ You say, bracing yourself as you’re greeted with much fresher air. When your feet reach the ground, you kind of sit back on your heels, on your knees in front of Steve as you catch your breath. Steve just about had a heart attack as you so innocently kneel before him. You smile up at him before tucking a few stray hairs behind your ear and continuing your sentence, “If it’s appropriate, I’m happy to help out?”

He gives you a tight lipped smile, looking down- almost blushing as he nods, “That’s very kind of you. I’ll let you know.”

You nod in response, before getting back to the task at hand, “Rats have chewed through the cables- I don’t think we should put any in until we get rid of them.”

Steve just nods, your words going in one ear and out the other however as he clasps his hands in front of him over his raging hard on.

-

“Uh, so if you just um- get on your knees,” You oblige so willingly, dropping to your knees in front of Steve and peaking under the dashboard of the quinjet, “You’ll be able to see it.”

You crane your neck a little to examine the fuse box and electrical circuit all hidden behind a dark plastic panel, “Oh yeah,” You hum, “So many buttons.”

“It’s big, huh?” Steve adds, smiling to himself.

“Yeah,” You scoff. Big was hardly the word for it. You look over it for a few more seconds, then at the sheet of your test paper. Fuses, alternator, corrosion. Those were the three tasks you were given to find and fix all on your own. Even through the plastic shield that showcased the electrical units of the jet, you were confident in completing all three, “Okay, I know what to do.” You nod up at Steve and get comfortable on your knees, “Ready to be my tool bearer?”

Steve snorts, “As I’ll ever be.” He jokes, handing you the screwdriver you almost always need at the beginning of these engineering exams. You get to work immediately, wasting no time so as to hit that criteria. Steve eyes the cockpit jet seat behind him, pulling the tool box of the dash board before asking, “Mind if I sit?”

You look up at him, then back to the chair before laughing a little, “Go for your life.” You tell him sarcastically. He smiles down at you and takes a seat and you look at him over your shoulder, “You have to treat yourself every once in a while, Captain.”

He just huffs softly, watching as you turn back around and work on the engine in front of you- yet again giving Steve the most perfect view of your ass, “Yeah, I do.”

-

It should be illegal for you to wear such an outfit to the gym. It’s no different from any other gym outfit that he’s seen worn by his female team and other female agents. But it’s the fact that you’re the one wearing it, so oblivious to its effect on your Captain.

Scheduled supervised gym times is probably Steve’s favourite place to be. Well, the rare evaluations every once in a while where he has one-on-one time definitely tops it in a heartbeat. But those are hardly often.

Besides, during those times you always opted for much more comfortable gym attire- which basically meant Steve had to use his imagination a little bit more than usual.

“Who’s got you wrapped around their finger?” Bucky breaks Steve out of his thoughts, sitting next to him on one of the benches in the gym as he joins Steve in supervising the training agents, “You’re all spacey.”

Steve just scoffs, shaking his head, “You’re too observant.”

Bucky smirks, “But I’m right?”

Steve just nods subtly, squinting his eyes at you a little- internally deciding if he really wants to tell Bucky. A small part of him just wants to keep you all to himself, because Steve knows damn well that if he tells Bucky- he’ll probably want in. Not that Steve isn’t down to share with his best friend- you were just different.

Steve wanted you all to himself.

But nonetheless, Bucky was his best friend. And Steve would do everything in his power to keep him away from you if Bucky were to show interest.

“See that agent?” Steve mumbles lowly, just enough so that if someone were to walk by, they wouldn’t hear.

Bucky follows Steve’s gaze over to a lone agent. She’s by her duffel, drinking from her water bottle. Some of it misses her mouth- or overflows- and spills down her chin and eventually down her cleavage. Huh, she’s cute.

Both Steve and Bucky catch the moment. And while Steve is more dumbstruck, Bucky just laughs a little, typical Steve’s type- naive.

“A recruit, hey?” He first teases- the age difference a literal slap in the face. Steve just sighs, subtly readjusting his pants so as not to display his hard on, “Okay, I see it.” Bucky nods understandingly as he watches you some more. Bucky knew you, of course, having trained you in a lot of your combat and weaponry courses. You really are a breath of fresh air- that’s the best way he could describe you. Sweet smile, sweeter laugh, best ass.

“She’s so naive.” Steve marvels, “Had her on her knees for about an hour while she worked on the engine, saying all kinds of things that went over her head.”

Bucky smiles at the thought. He decided to keep to himself how he was able to spar with you himself once, let you win and had you on top of him straddling his waist. Or how close he gets to you when handling your weapons. Hey, you’ve gotta learn one way or another.

Instead, Bucky tells him something else. Something not as incriminating for him, but rather… for everyone else.

“All the boys hit on her.”

Steve almost gets whiplash from how fast he turns around to look at Bucky, “Who?” He asks with deeply furrowed brows.

“All of them.” Bucky shrugs, nodding to where they all stand and where you have rejoined them. Steve takes particular note on how all the boys stare down at your chest as you talk and laugh with them, “During their combat training, they call her sweet cheeks. Said it’s because of her smile.”

Steve watches with daggers in his eyes as Bucky’s point is proven. As you walk off with two other female agents towards the treadmills, all the boys stare shamelessly at your ass- chatting amongst themselves after all giddy.

“Bullshit.” Steve mutters

“I’m saying.” Bucky scoffs. The pair are silent as they watch you on the treadmill, the way your hips sway effortlessly as you take each step, “She’s a virgin, you know?” Again, Steve’s head almost loses control and screws off as he whips his head around to look at Bucky, who just shrugs, “They all tease her for it.”

Steve swore he heard wedding bells at that. So you’re a virgin after all.

The two super soldiers remain on that bench for the rest of the session, every so often glancing at other members of the team of recruits, but mostly focusing their attention on you.

In doing so, Steve was silently conjuring up a plan.

As Bucky announced that their training session was over and that they were free to go, Steve got to his feet.

Everyone was on their way out, and as you throw your duffel over your shoulder, you were glad to have finally finished. You couldn’t wait to retreat back to your room and have a nice, long bath-

“Agent L/N,” You turn at the sound of your name, called by an all too familiar voice. You smile up at your Captain despite the uneasy look he gives you with authrotitative hands on his hips, “Could you stay back a minute?”

“Yeah, sure,” You gives your friends a small smile as they leave without you. You wait patiently in front of Steve as he seemingly waits for everyone to leave until it is just the two of you left in the gym, “Is everything okay?” You ask once the final person leaves- the silence wracking your nerves.

He sighs heavily, looking down and God, you’re nervous. You don’t know any better, and from the looks of it, you must be in trouble.

“You’re a great agent,” He starts off and you blink at him a little before softly smiling, “You’re flying through the course and passing every exam. You’re smart, you’re kind.”

“Thank you, Captain.” You feel your cheeks heat up a little at the myriad of compliments he had just given you.

He just gives you a tight lip smile however as he goes to continue, he looks down to the floor and purses his lips with a heavy sigh, “Those boys, not so much.” Your smile falters a little, shocked to hear your Captain speak softly openly and negatively about his recruits, “They seem to treat this course just as some kind of badge for their resume. They don’t take it as serious as you do.” You smile softly at the subtle compliment, but don’t know if it’s the right reaction, “From what I’ve seen, Y/N, I’m not too sure they’re good for you to hang around.” You look up at him now with slightly sad eyes and he’s quick to explain (and hold the moan), “You get all distracted and a lot of the time, they’re just flirting with you. And I’m not telling you who you can and can’t be friends with, but I’d just hate for this opportunity to get taken away from you just because you got wooed by one of them airheads.”

“Oh,” Is all you can say after a short moment of silence, “I-I never realised they were doing that.” You shake your head, cheeks heating up at the thought of all those boys flirting with you. You always thought they were nice, but you never thought they were flirting! To be perfectly honest though, you wouldn’t know flirting if it killed you. Your Captains words swirled all through your head- and you frowned slightly at the thought of disappointing him. You didn’t get in trouble- and certainly not at the expense of some boys, “Well, what do you think I should do?” You ask, “I want to follow your advice, but I don’t want to hurt their feelings by not talking to them anymore.”

Steve doesn’t know why he’s so surprised that his plan worked- I mean look at you. He smiles now, changing his whole demeanour now that he has you right where he wants you, “If you accept, I have a- kind of excuse for you to steer clear of them.” You nod eagerly up at him, prompting him continue, “Be my assistant.” He shrugs, “You can help me out with my paperwork up at my office and I don’t know- maybe you can even join Tony and Bruce in the labs if you like.” He offers and your eyes light up, “So, if they do ever approach you, you can just say you’re too busy to talk.” He adds.

“Okay.” You hardly hesitate to accept the offer, “I’ll do it.”

“Great.” He smiles, “I’ll send you an email with the forms you need to fill out and come Monday, you’ll probably join me in my office for the day.” You nod once more and Steve nods in return, “Have a nice night, Y/N.”

You turn to leave, but stop yourself and spin right back around, Steve unmoving and raising a curious brow, “When you did passing every exam, does that mean I passed the engine exam?” You ask with a slight smirk on your face.

Steve laughs softly, scanning the room quickly before nodding and giving you you’re unreleased result, “Of course you did.”

As you turn back around with the biggest smile on your face, Steve can’t help the smile that breaks out on his own.

He had you right where he wants you. And now it’s only a matter of time.

-

Being Steve’s assistant was probably the best decision you’ve made.

And yes… you got to call him Steve now. It felt so strange at first, felt too informal considering he was now both your boss and Captain. But you both agreed it was even weirder to constantly call him Captain and Mr. Rogers when you would spend practically every working hour together.

And that’s what being his assistant was. When you weren’t fulfilling your training duties, you were helping him out. Paperwork, grading, organising his schedule, picking up his lunch- at one point you even did his laundry.

And it really did work in keeping you away from the boys. You still talked to them every so often, but it was only ever very small talk.

Anyways, every day that you weren’t training, you would meet with Steve at his office at 8AM on the dot. From there you would deliberate on the new day- or if he’d given you a task to do overnight, you’d present it to him then.

Which is what happened last night. You were to input all of the data and Steve’s notes of each recruit and their progress, grades and comments into one big table-spreadsheet thing.

It sounded like a lot, but was actually very easy and you had it done in no time, printed out and alphabetically sorted in a neat pile in your arm as you approached Steve’s office.

Coming up his doors, you stopped dead in your tracks, however, when you heard a few pained grunts coming from within. You furrowed your brows softly and held your ear up against the door. The noise persisted and you worried a little for your Captain. He sounded hurt?

Glancing at the time, it was 8:00AM on the dot. Not wanting to end up even a minute late you knocked on the wooden door to Steve’s office four times before stepping back and waiting. The pained grunts seemingly stopped after your last knock and he cleared his throat. You then heard a soft thump and lot of shuffling before his feet were trudging towards the door.

The door swings open and there stands a puffed out Steve.

“Morning,” You say softly, and before he can greet you back, you ask, “Are you feeling okay, Steve? I heard noises-“

“Yeah, fine, Y/N. Thank you.” He chokes out. He’s totally unconvincing though as his hair is a little disheveled and he seems… exhausted? Nevertheless, he stands to the side and opens the door wider for you, “Come in,”

As you enter the office and brush past him, you quite literally feel his body heat radiate off of him and you persist in ensuring he’s feeling okay, “Are you sure you’re okay?” You place your hand upon his forehead and gasp softly at the heat of his skin, “You’re burning up.”

“No, I’m fine, Y/N.” He shakes his head. You still don’t believe him- and he knows it. He has to stop himself from smiling too hard at how naive you are. Instead he just smiles softly and holds out his pinky for you, “Promise.” You smile down at his pinky now. You still don’t believe him… not fully, but still, you entwine your pinkies together, “Got my papers?” He then asks and you nod, handing him the stack that rests in your arms.

You observed Steve closely for a good 10 minutes as he scanned over the documents. You pretended to work on something on your laptop, but you were mostly stealing long glances up at the man before you- who clearly seemed to have something wrong with him.

Whether he was sick, in pain, tired- you couldn’t tell- probably all three even. But Steve would never let anyone know that- not on purpose anyway. Which is why, as he shifts in his seat for about the 7th time in the last few minutes with a strained expression on his face, you shut your laptop and face him.

“Steve, are you sure you’re okay?” You ask, placing a hand on his arm- before he can respond you cut him off and say, “There’s something wrong and I know you’re too stubborn to take the day off, so is there nothing I can do? Anything at all?”

He sighs softly, “You know me too well.”

You shrug, “It’s kind of my job.” You got really close to Steve after taking up this job- that was never really the plan (not for you at least) but it was basically inevitable. And you’re actually really glad it turned out that way because Steve was just great.

As your rub his arm softly, Steve caves. How can he not? His plan has worked yet again. He was going to drag it out a bit more- maybe wait until the end of the day- that way his unfinished orgasm from when he had edged himself under his desk this morning before you and knocked would be so good.

But he has to give in. With the way you’re rubbing his arm and staring up at him, in your little office outfit that has been driving him crazy for the past few weeks. He has to.

Putting his act back up, he sighs again, “It’s just my-“ You lean closer, almost eager to hear him admit his illness. But Steve just shakes his head and cuts himself off, “You’re just gonna think it’s gross.”

“I won’t!” You shake your head, squeezing his arm, “I had to bunk with the boys on that one mission, I can’t imagine anything more gross.” You try and joke, but it does little to make Steve actually laugh. He fakes one, of course, but on the inside he’s furious.

He could only imagine the jokes and innuendos that flew over your head when you had bunked with those foul boys. And so help them if they had even laid a finger on you.

“Well,” Steve begins, before looking down at the concealed tent in his pants and then up at you, “My cock really hurts.”

You blink dumbly at him, accidentally casting your eyes down to his crotch before quickly looking back up at him, “Oh,” Is all you manage to let out. You weren’t expecting that.

“I’m not sure why. It’s been aching all morning.”

You take your hand of his arm and Steve panics a little. Holding both of your hands in your lap, your furrow your brows, “I-I’m not really sure how I can help…”

“I know how,” Steve says, a little too eagerly but you don’t notice. He takes note of the way your head shoots up, almost willing to hear what he has to say… okay, good… so you’re not completely grossed out- still just as naive as ever, “But only if you’re okay with it?”

You nod, “What is it?”

“Kiss it better.” Steve says. You search his face for any kind of sarcasm, but even though you come up empty handed, you still smile softly- a laugh beginning to break out. Steve mirrors your smile, “I’m serious, it really works. Female saliva is like a painkiller for it.” He quickly lies.

“Really?” You ask, amazed and too gullible for your own good, “So should I spit on it?” You ask innocently and Steve swears he could’ve cum in his pants right there.

He swallows a thick breath, “You’ll have to spread it around as well.” He nods, hands going to his belt and unbuckling it. As he pulls his fly down and pulls out his aching, hard cock that he had tugged into the waist band of his boxers to conceal his boner, he doesn’t miss the way your eyes light up at the sight of him, “See how it’s red and hard- it need to be soft.”

You nod understandingly, “Oh, I think I heard the boys talk about this happening to them on the mission.” You say absentmindedly as you go back to stroking his arm soothingly.

But it does little to help this time. Steve sees red.

“You didn’t touch any of their cocks, did you?” He asks you firmly and if you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought he was mad at you.

“No,” You shake your head, a little confused as to why that would be such a bad thing. After all, you’re about to touch Steve’s- and you would only be helping them, right?

“Good girl.” He nods, and you feel a few butterflies in your stomach at his praise- you could never tire of Steve’s praises- and he knew that, “So, get on your knees,” Steve instructs and you hop off your chair and slide to the ground, onto your knees. You naturally just slot yourself between his spread legs, propping yourself up on his thighs as he holds his cock closer to your mouth. You won’t lie- it looks very intimidating and you’re a little nervous, but you trust Steve with your life, “Kiss it better first.” He orders and you picked your lips and kiss the head of it. Steve throws his head back a little and you continue to kiss down the underside of it, nearly giving Steve a heart attack, “Fuck-“

You pull away as he curses, looking up at him with furrowed brows, “Did I do something wrong?” You ask nervously.

One of his hands comes down to tuck a stray hair out of your face and behind your ear as he shakes his head, “It was perfect.” With the same hand, he guides it behind your head, “Now, open your mouth,” You open your mouth slightly and Steve chuckles a little, “Wider than that.” You widen your mouth, “Good, now stick out your tongue.” You do so tentatively, sticking out your tongue fir their and further as Steve nods. Once he’s satisfied with the length of your tongue, he slaps his cock down onto it a few times. You’re a little confused, but let he do what he obviously knows is best. “Now spit on it.” He says, practically reading your body as you retreat your tongue and find a well of saliva already conjured up in your mouth. You spit it onto the tip of Steve’s dick, mouth nudging the tip slightly, “Good.” You both watch it leak over the head and once it reaches a vein, Steve nods, “Spread it around with your-“ You don’t know what came over you, but you just started licking it up and spreading it around with your warm, wet tongue. It just… felt right, “Oh God, keep going- Fuck.”

You swirl your tongue all around him, over his head and down his shaft- wanting to cover every inch of his cock so that he’d feel better.

Steve can’t take it anymore. He was going to ease you into it, but he can’t. The kitten licks are driving him insane and if he waits any longer, he’ll cum all over your face. He doesn’t want that- he wants to cum in your mouth.

So, with his hands cradling your head, he bucks himself into your mouth. You gasp around him, almost choking as he intrudes into your mouth but he shushes you softly and guided you through it, “Just relax.” He coos and nod softly, relaxing your mouth around him as he begins a gentle thrust inside your mouth, “That’s it.”

Steve takes pity on you and only goes as deep as you can fit him. He doesn’t want to gag you- not yet. He’s worried that would only scare you off and that’s the last thing he wants. No, he needs to train you- train your throat to take him as far down as he can.

Your nimble hands squeeze Steve’s thighs every so often when he shoves himself back in and he has to bite his lip so as to not smile. Instead, he just takes that as his sign to praise you even more- he knew how much you loved it.

As he sets a pace, fucking into your face, he already feels himself teetering on the edge of his orgasm- having already started it a few minutes prior so it was no surprise it had arrived so quick.

And as Steve looks down properly at your whimpering form, eyes doed up at him- just waiting for his praises- spit spilling from the corners of your open mouth and tears threatening to spill over your lash line, Steve is done for. A sight he could only dream of- makes him cum in seconds.

He groans as he feels it shoot out of his cock. With his hands still behind your head, he feels your resistance as you try and pull away at the newfound experience of his cum hitting the back of your throat, “It’s okay, take it.” He quickly encourages, “It’s just giving you back all the fluids you gave me.” You nod weakly and unsure, but stay nevertheless and take every last drop.

Once it stops and Steve pulls his cock out of your mouth, you swallow it all down.

Well, Steve certainly didn’t expect that. He had mostly expected you to spit some of it out- was getting ready to tell you a little white lie on how it was good for your body and that you shouldn’t have wasted it.

Which is why he had picked you up off the floor almost instantly, placing you on top of his disk and kissed you. He kissed you! You were frozen in place, but you still let him do it.

Only when he broke away did you finally say something, “Steve-“ You didn’t know much about sex- that mcuh was clear, but you definitely knew that kissing was inappropriate- kissing your captain nonetheless! “Captain, wh-“

“It’s okay- Do you trust me?” He asks you, seeming to totally brush past the fact that he just kissed you! Your hesitation is evident as you look around the room nervously. So you nod softly. “You said you wanted to make me feel better, right?” Steve continues and you nod again- this time more confidently because you were sure of that. You only ever wanted to please Steve… that was kind of like your goal in life… “So then relax.”

Steve kisses you once more and this time you return it. Your lack of experience is telling but it only eggs him on even more.

Distracted by the kiss, you don’t even register how his hands have found their way to your little skirt, pushing it up higher over your thighs.

Only when the cold air meets your revealed cunt do you pull away from the kiss and attempt to close your legs around Steve hands that has his hand buried in your skirt.

You look up at him nervously, and he’s quick to reassure you, “Sh, it’s okay.” And eases your thighs back open.

His fingers meet with your clit and you tense up. Why are you wet? Why now? You have gotten wet a bunch of times before, but why now? Of all the times.

You dip your head in embarrassment as Steve smiles. You’re wet! His fingers slide easily through your folds and you whimper at the sensation. Before you can ask Steve why you feel this way, he’s shoving two fingers into your right, wet hole.

“Steve!” You squeal, clenching tightly around his fingers- making his cock twitch in the air.

“You’re such a good girl. You’re doing so good.” He praises and it works for him like a charm as you become putty in his hold.

Once he deems he’s stretched you out enough, he pulls his fingers out and rubs your little clit with his thumb. You rest your head against his shoulder, eyes falling shut as it sends tingles all through your body.

Again, Steve takes your moment of distraction to take hold of his cock and bring it closer to your weeping cunt sitting at the edge of his desk.

When the head nudges your entrance, you furrow your brows and open your eyes- but before you can question anything, Steve is shoving his cock inside of you.

You cry out, nails digging into his arm, “Steve, that hurts,”

You weakly look up to meet Steve’s gaze as he stills inside you. You pulse around him uncontrollably and it makes Steve feral.

“That’s not how you address me.” He says firmly, and you whimper at his new attitude. He’s mad at you, you’ve done something wrong and you must fix it.

“I’m sorry, Captain, please,” You cry as he begins pulling out. You feel a bit of relief at the familiar empty feeling, breathing deeply and both watching as his cock head is visible again. “Please,” You hardly know what you’re begging for. You don’t want it to stop, but you don’t want it to continue.

Steve locks his eyes with yours as he pushes back in- this time it’s much slower and you can’t tell whether that helps or not. You control your breathing to see if that helps and it surprisingly does as when you open up your eyes once more, he’s fully sheathed inside of you again and you hardly remember it being as bad as that first time.

“God, you’re so tight,” He says, burying his face in your neck and inhaling your sweet maple scent, “Don’t think I’m gonna last long,” He laughs.

You don’t exactly know what to respond, or really what any of his words mean, so you kind of just smile weakly.

“Okay, I’m gonna go a little bit faster now,” He says, standing to his full height and firmly grasping your hips. You look at him terrified, but know better. You trust your Captain- and this is supposed to make him feel better… and you kind of feel nice too. At the hesitant look on your face, he brings himself down to kiss you once again- putting you in a momentary trance as he pulls out and begins a steady thrust.

You whine into his mouth, unable to continue the kiss and he smiles against your lips before pulling away and quickening his thrusts.

“Ah, Captain!” You gasp, “It burns.” You heave, clenching so tightly around him Steve genuinely worried for the safety of his cock.

“Tell me when,” He says, unrelenting in his thrusts as you cry beneath him.

“There.” You say, the moment his head shoved through your hole. Steve takes note and now, whenever his head pushes past, he makes sure to rub your clit extra hard. You moan at the feeling of his thumb rubbing you- cancelling out the burn of his cock with pleasure that courses through you, “Ah-“

“Feel better?” He asks, a small smile on his fucked our face as he continues his ruthless thrusts.

You nod meekly, unable to for any words right now as your body adjusts to his thick cock. Pain turns into pleasure and you’re quickly relaxing around him, wrapping your legs around his waist.

And true to his word, Steve isn’t lasting much longer. It only escalated when you relaxed around him, your body finally recognising how much you were made for Steve, wrapping around him in all the right places- like a key in a lock.

Steve’s hood stutter a little and you whine as his cock twitches inside you several times. He curses above you and you’re a little confused until you feel a warmth full you up. It’s a very strange feeling, it almost tickles a little as Steve paints your insides with his hot, white cum.

Steve’s thrusts have slowed a little as he kisses your neck, and you begin working your hips to meet his to regain that fast pace he once had. You feel something building inside of you- you’re not sure what it is, but you just know you want more of Steve.

“Please don’t stop Captain.” You beg, tightening your legs around his hips to cage him in.

Steve’s eyes light up at the way you’re now begging- when almost a few minutes ago you were almost crying. As he smiles down at you, he picks up the pace of his hips- uncaring to the overstimulation it gives him.

He rubs your clit much faster now as he thrusts into you and whispers a non-stop praises into your ear.

“Doing so good for me,” He says, “Make me so proud, my pretty girl,” Oh, you just about melt, “You’re gonna cum for me, huh?” He asks, “Can feel it in here, hmm?” He presses down on your stomach a little and you moan much louder, “Oh, you like that? You’re such a good girl,”

It’s too much. His words, his thumb, his cock. You snap- well, not really but you feel something snap inside of you. It feels so good and warm, and your cunt pulses around his cock tenfold.

You gasp a little, so unsure of what you’re feeling, but you’re not complaining. It feel so good.

As Steve guides you down your high, you find yourself kissing his neck softly, leaving a small hickey. Your eyes widen a little at the red mark, unsure if Steve would’ve permitted you to do that. But before you can apologise, he’s pulling out of you slowly and you’re frowning at the emptiness.

“This has to be our little secret.” Steve then says, tucking himself into his pants and zipping them up.

You look up at him curiously, letting him take a tissue and clean you up haphazardly before putting both your panties and skirt back in place.

“Why?” You ask, genuinely unsure, “What if the other boys-“

“No.” The grip on your jaw is threatening and you swallow thickly as you look up into his eyes… they look… darker? “Only. Me.” He says, “Maybe Sargent Barnes if you’re lucky, but until I tell you so, just me. Do you understand?” You nod immediately.

You didn’t know what that meant- also what Sargent Barnes had anything to do with this either. But… you had to trust your Captain. You did trust your Captain.

“Yes, sir.”

Smiling, he softens his grip on your jaw but his hand remains, “Good girl.” He nods, pressing a few small kisses to your lips, “You make me so proud, you know that?”

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*･ﾟ☆

OH.

BUCKYS TURN. PART TWO HERE.

idk if this was as dark as it could b buttttttttt go easy on me i’ve never written dark stuff before!

anyway happy birthday steve

Steve knew there was no happy ending in this long-winding story of his life.

In a world as shitty as his, he'd be lucky if he would die peacefully in his bed.

Despite being the poster child for all things good and great about their nation, Steve Rogers knew, without a shadow of a doubt that the world was an ugly place filled with suffering innocents and ruled by horrible monarchs.

He had long given up trying to save it.

The world has and will always be shit.

He learned that the hard way.

As an artist, he had always wanted to see the beauty in the most destitute of places. Desperate to capture the tiniest glimmer of hope in the most tragic of events.

But that part of his soul had long died, daggers of tragedy buried on its back -- the consequence of being Captain America.

He was tired. Tired of having to pretend anything in this god-forsaken world is ever worth saving anymore, accepting that anything kind and beautiful would wither and die in this hideous reality of his.

He had hoped laying down his shield would ease him off of his responsibilities but Nick Fury had to fucking die on him which resulted in his hands tied with no choice but to hold the fort as the Director of SHIELD while they scramble to find a replacement because he had made it clear that his time and charity there will be limited.

It wasn’t all bad.

He found himself married but it was only because he had thought a family was the next right thing after a retirement. He got bored of it after the first six months and that was him being nice. She was definitely a beauty, the type of woman the men of his time preferred. Traditional, simple-minded, a bit dull but had a sweet smile that almost makes up for it.

He thought she would be his muse, the beautiful guiding light he could live for. She wasn’t.

Yet somehow all was not for nought. For surprisingly, his wife wasn’t the one beautiful thing he had found in that little arrangement.

“Sir,” his secretary’s voice echoed in his quiet office. “Your 6 pm is here.”

His eyes flickered on the only picture frame standing on the right side of his oak table, letting his gaze run from her sensual curves, to her sweet, sweet smile, and into her bright eyes that seemed to look at him with worship as she called out his name.

“Daddy!”

John #7 as the rest of the office loved to call him (the captain stopped bothering to learn any names of his always changing secretaries and just opted to call them John regardless of gender) watched as his grim boss crack a smile for the first time today. It was almost eerie to see a semblance of happiness curve into his lips as he welcomed his darling stepdaughter who didn’t wait for permission and ran through the frosted glass door of his office.

A feat that is probably only permitted for this little young lady.

Steve was quick to wave off the two guards trailing behind her, silently instructing them to stay in the waiting room outside of his office.

The first time John saw Steve Rogers laugh he thought for sure he was having a stroke, the long hours finally getting to him. But it happened over and over again. The man who could not even spare a weekly lunch date with his own wife moved hell and highwaters to entertain any whims of his stepdaughter.

Now, the rest of the office just sighed in relief when they see your high bun and flowy skirts running around the building of shield with the executive-level ID card on your neck that gave you exclusive access to Steve Roger’s top floor office.

“Ah, my little dove,” John #7 tried not to show any more surprise at the nickname, especially when the young woman jumped into the Captain’s arms, giddily pressing kisses on his scruffy stubble almost seemingly unaware who exactly her stepfather was: the blood splattered on those gentle arms in the name of the responsibilities he carries, the horror he sees on the daily, the monsters he has to become unwillingly.

John #7 knows, he may not know half of it but he knows enough. However, he’s terrified enough of the golden man and the facade he wears to swear on his wife’s life that he will be taking all of Captain America’s secrets to the grave.

Especially from who was undoubtedly the most precious existence in Steve Roger’s life.

You were in a conservative turtle neck but in a loose skirt, your pink leg warmers only made you ooze even more innocence despite your age and made the contrast with the man’s dark blue suit even more apparent -- your choices of clothing made your innocent actions almost inappropriate.

“You ready for your show?” his boss smiled, the small but real ones he doesn’t usually show the press. The comforting tone of his voice would’ve made anybody who had ever had a minute long conversation with the captain double back but he had gotten used to the whiplash of his ever-changing personalities by now.

“I … I think so,” your nervous habit kicked in, worrying hands already tucking out the man’s shirt from his pants so you could play with its edges. It made both him and the old captain grind their teeth till it hurt.

“Sweetheart,” the lower octave his voice dropped to make you shiver and John to note down on his head to make sure nobody disturbs the captain in the next hour. He knew where this was going but he was paid enough to be as deaf as a pole and as blind as a bat. No matter how wrong and immoral it was. “You want daddy to calm you down?”

Despite his professionalism, John’s eyes couldn’t help but run through the covered toned legs of the young woman, her years of ballet training, as anyone who doesn’t live under a rock would know, had made her figure nearly perfect.

The sheltered, beautiful, perfect stepdaughter of Steve Rogers.

(Whose paparazzi shots sells by the tens of thousands because of how rare it was.)

His wandering eyes however nearly popped out of their sockets when it caught the dark glint of the captain’s gaze on him.

“John.”

He quickly kept his eyes down, knowing any more mistake won’t earn him any more of the captain’s few forgiveness. “I’ll keep the rest of your night free, sir.”

Captain America doesn't really take day offs, but when he does, it was always because of you.

Mr Rogers only hummed, already flicking his hand aimlessly as he placed a large, rough, protective palm on his sweet stepdaughter’s back, leading her to his thousand-dollar couch.

Stepping out of the stuffy office, John #7 knew the last thing he heard would haunt him for the rest of his sleepless night.

“Get on your position, dove. Just how I like it.”

“Daddy!”

Ida’s head nearly separated from her head with how quickly she turned her head at the voice of her irritating junior.

But she was glad she did, as she was met with the glorious figure of Steve Roger’s himself.

“So it’s true.”

“Is that how she got nominated as a principal dancer so quick?”

“Lucky bitch.”

Ida shared her colleagues’ sentiments. It was a well-known fact that despite your innate talent and grace in dancing, it was with a healthy dash of nepotism and your pretty last name that you had managed to land into one of the most prestigious companies in New York after your first try.

This always left a bitter taste in her mouth, how she had to crawl and cut and fight her way to the top, only for you to threaten her position as the head principal ballerina by batting your eyelashes at good ol’ daddy.

“Did you like the show?”

“You were wonderful, dove.”

Ida’s jaw locked, her nose fuming out hot breaths.

The world was unfair.

How do you get the supportive stepfather who gave you everything in a golden platter while she gets to work two jobs a couple of years ago just to support her passion? And now, talks of you being the Swan Queen in the next show is roaming around because not only will you get to live the life she always dreamed of, you also want to steal the one thing left she has to live for.

“You looked great out there, sweetheart. All your hard work really paid off.”

Ida nearly scoffed at your mom’s words, she doubt you ever had to truly work hard for naything in your life. Not since your mother snatched Captain America himself, anyways.

But her irritation was cut off when she saw Steve Roger’s reaction to his wife’s voice.

The young ballerina felt shivers run up her spine at how quickly his eyes turned cold as he faced his wife. Regarding her as if she was an intruding stranger to their conversation, “She needs water, get her some. We’ll meet you in the car.”

Ida felt the hurt despite the words not being for her.

She could almost feel the temperature drop at how hard his stare turned. Wasn’t Steve Roger’s supposed to be hopelessly in love with his wife? “But I --”

“Daddy, are we having dinner at The Elysia?”

The cold man suddenly regarded you with a warm smile.

“Hmm, maybe,” Ida can feel the second-hand embarrassment as his wife got completely kicked out of the conversation. Steve Roger’s face was now soft and kind as he accepted your shrieks and kisses on his face, his cold expression melting away as if it was an illusion.

“Go on.”

But it wasn’t.

“We’ll follow you in a moment.”

He was still so cruel.

“Yes, dear.”

Just not to you.

Ida watched as the man that was once America’s favourite son -- the man every man should be aiming to become turned his back on his dejected wife and walked with you towards your own dressing room (another perk that was supposed to be enjoyed by senior principal ballerinas like her yet you managed to grab anyways).

Despite her better judgement, Ida sneakily tried to follow the two of you, for reasons till this day she wasn’t sure what.

If she knew what she knows now, she would’ve booked it out of there the first chance she got.

But she had gotten curious about Mr Roger’s difference of treatment between his stepdaughter and his wife, or the way you were seemingly ignorant of the tension between the two of them. Maybe Ida wanted to gain some leverage and hoped to get some of his attention too in one way or another if that meant getting ahead of her peers.

It worked for you, why shouldn’t it work for her?

But mostly the way the two of you were acting was not sitting right with her gut and maybe, she was either giving you the chance to prove her wrong or prove her right.

So despite knowing how foolish she was acting she tiptoed into the second floor where all the personal dressing rooms were, five minutes after the two of you disappeared, making sure on her way up that the rest of the dancers were already out the door so they don;t see her snooping around.

She tried to act inconspicuous as she passed by the personalized baby pink door that stood out from the rest of the white doors of the other dressing rooms, barely able to make out the muffled sounds of movements inside due to the soundproof installation of each room.

Trying the door, she cursed. Of course, it was going to be locked.

Then, she swears she could hear your moans.

“..ddy!”

…. It couldn’t be.

Full of adrenaline, Ida ran to the room next to yours, thanking god that Iris, the owner had a date with her fiance, leaving it empty. She remembered her complaining that the music you blasted for your meditation travelled through the narrow and fragile air vent in the wall that connected your rooms together. she was just about to get it covered by the maintenance men and they swore up and down they'll finish it tomorrow so Ida knew the screw was still loose for tonight.

Jumping on the couch, she unscrewed the cover, lifting herself up and quietely crawled into the short journey to the light that shined on the hole that led on the other side --straight into your room.

She was glad she prepared herself for the worst.

Managing to trap her shock by biting her tongue.

As she looked through the slit of the vent, what greeted him was a sight that would’ve turned the world upside down.

The Great Captain America, kneeling on the plush pink carpeted floor as he ate her young stepdaughter’s cunt.

“Daddy, ‘s too much!”

Your whine only got you a slap on your thigh that echoed into the small space in the vent Ida was hiding in. The sound made her flinch, now acutely aware and disgusted of her own dripping core.

“Stop squirming, little one,” his voice muffled on youe slit, one he fixed by placing both his thumbs on each side of your dripping lips and spreading it apart for his torture. “I don’t like playing with my food.”

Despite her disgust, Ida crossed her legs tighter, face burning in embarrassment at her own arousal in watching this despicable man and her harlot of a stepdaughter.

He was a cheater, and worse, with his wife’s daughter. He should be crucified for his sins but the way he skillfully licks and sucks and nibble on his stepdaughter’s pussy had Ida's nipples pebbling, nearly panting from the uncontrollable heat in her crotch no matter how much she tried to ignore it.

“Daddy! I’m -- I’m cumming!”

The older man gripped on your thighs tighter, not letting up even as you screamed and gripped on the mop of hair at the top of his head, body shaking from the pleasure, drool dripping down the side of your lips.

Ida’s chest heaved.

Disgusting.

They’re both disgusting.

“What do you say, dove?”

The man towered over you, making Ida hold her breath as his height shortened the distance between the two of them. If she had reached out her hand she was sure she would be able to touch the top of his head.

“T-Thank you, daddy.”

From above, Ida could see your breathing regulate, the light mist of perspiration on your face and chest making your skin glow, along with the dopey smile on your face. She could only imagine the satisfaction running through your veins after that orgasm.

Ida had to give it to him, Steve Roger's deserved that thank you.

“Why don’t you get along and join your mother in the car, little one,” Steve walked out of Ida's line of sight as he turned to the opposite side of the room, leaving his stepdaughter with her legs still spread-eagled, barely catching her breath. “I’ll bring all your stuff for you.”

“I --” she was pretty sure Mr Roger’s gave you a look that had you shakily standing up immediately and putting on your underwear carelessly thrown on the carpeted floor. “Yes, daddy.”

The hold he had on you and your mother really showed just how traditional of a man he is. His words were law, and the two of you were aware of that,

Steve walked back into view, leaning down so you could stand on your tiptoes and press one final kiss on his lips. “Thank you again, daddy. My nerves are all gone now!”

He only hummed in response, sneaking his gigantic hands under your skirt to give your ass a squeeze before watching without another word as you stepped out of the room, innocently skipping towards the car where she knows your mom was waiting in, completely unaware of the knife on her back from the people she loved the most.

“Dove?”

“Hmm?”

“Lock the door on your way out.”

Ida has seen enough.

She was just about to think about her next move now that she’s armed with this new knowledge when an explosion and a sharp pain on her leg had her screaming and falling from the ceiling straight into the ground, sprawled out a few inches from Captain America’s leather shoes.

She gaped in both shock and pain.

He had made a hole on the ceiling and through the vent with his brute strength, trapping her into the room with him.

Even if she screamed she knew no one would be able to hear. After all, she had made sure herself that they had been alone.

“M-My leg --” she sobbed, horror filling her chest now that not only did she get caught, but the pounding on her lower limb is also telling her she would definitely be out for the rest of the season.

“So there was a little rat in the ceiling.”

She pushed herself up but a sharp pain on her leg had her freezing, finally seeing the tragic state her leg was in.

“AAAAAAH!” her scream was cut off when the man rammed his foot on her stomach, having her flying away and crashing on the mirror of the other side of the room, the pieces of glass cutting through whatever part of her it could reach. That only made the broken bone on her leg worse, cracking even more, almost uselessly hanging on to each other through the ragged pieces of skin.

“God, you’re loud,” he sighed, fingers massaging his forehead as if she was nothing but a bother when she was the one with the sliced up skin and dangling foot. Ida sobbed when he crouched down, now she can see his cold dead eyes closer. She can’t believe for a second of her life he had thought of him as beautiful.“Can’t even hide to save your life.”

He’s a monster.

“I-I -- I won’t tell anyone! Sir, please! I promise I won’t --”

She could do nothing but sob in horror when he laughed to her face, a bitter one that told her that her promises meant absolutely nothing to him.

She screamed louder when he gripped her broken leg in his rough palms, making the bleeding worse, her bones cracking like fragile sticks in his superhuman grip.

“You’re Ida aren’t you? The one who’s been bothering my little one,” he ran his eyes on her like she was an animal to be experimented on. “What should I do with you?”

“P-Please … sir, please,” she sobbed harder when she saw the state her leg was in. Purple and limp, pieces of bone protruded through different directions. The realization that the career she had worked her entire life on would be over had her wondering if her life was worth begging for at this point.

“Ah, how unpleasant,” she warily watched as the man walked away from her, forcing her to slump on the sharp pieces of the shattered mirror on the floor. Grabbing a towel he wiped his hands with it then shoved the bloodied towel into the pink duffel bag you liked to carry around, while his free hand grabbed the expensive-looking bouquet of flowers effortlessly. “I came here to spend some precious time with my lovely stepdaughter but caught a sneaky rat instead.”

She could only try to hold her cries, in hopes of not irritating the short-tempered captain anymore.

He sighed.

“My secretary will be coming in a while,” she backed up on the wall when he came closer, willing it to swallow her up if it meant getting away from the beast in front of her.

“If you say anything about what happened here to anyone,” she choked on her own horrified gasp when he gently hovered his shoe on her other unbroken foot, slowly putting pressure into it creaked in protest. “I’ll make sure you’ll wish I gouged your eyes out instead.”

“Daddy! I’m the new head principal ballerina!”

Steve placed the newspaper in his hands on the table, catching you in his arms as you settled yourself on his lap, nearly bouncing up and down his crotch in your glee.

He should give John #7 a raise. Or was his name Christian?

“Well, isn’t that a pleasant surprise?”

Steve still remembers the day everything changed between the two of you.

In times of extreme stress, he likes to think about it to calm himself down.

It was the week after your 19th birthday where his gift for you had comprised of a three-year training course to the most prestigious ballet institute in the country that was basically the golden key for you to get accepted in the company you had been dreaming of.

To show your dedication, you had been cooped up in your personal dance studio for the past few days, training and prepping yourself up for the incoming semester.

“Daddy?”

Steve caught the swinging personalized punching bag that weighed nearly ten bodies at the sound of your voice, looking behind him to see you in your white leotards and sheer pink skirt. The uniform you always wore whenever you do your own training in the home studio he had gotten built just for you.

You looked a little flushed but tried to hide it with your usual smile.

“I need to stretch, mom already left for her brunch with Steff.”

Why does he pay your instructor so much if she just leaves to hang out with your mother any chance she got. The man made a mental note to have a little talk with that shameless woman on your next session.

“Did they?”

You nodded meekly as he grabbed a towel, wiping his face and torso as he walked in your direction.

You looked too tiny in his gym, the black and blue palette a brutish contrast to your pink skirt and gentle face. It makes Steve want to scoop you up and eat you whole.

Huh.

“Can you help me, daddy?” you stood on your tiptoes, cradling his face to press a kiss on his sweaty face, feet never leaving the white line from the door knowing your stepfather doesn’t like you in his gym where everything could potentially hurt or crush you.

Your saccharine smile at how quickly he had come to you told him you knew exactly how to play your stepfather, not that he gave you any shit for it.

It felt nice to be adored.

To receive gentle touches and soft kisses -- to look into the eyes of another and not see the poorly hidden fear and horror, instead to only see his reflection in your eyes that are filled with blind love and submission.

He couldn’t help but grip the back of your neck, making you gasp in shock, before pressing his own gentle kiss on the edge of your lips.

He was done trying to control the monster crawling out of his soul to consume you.

“Of course, dove.”

Steve had tried to control himself as best as he could, despite being your stepfather for only a year, he had showered you with everything you could ever want. Even the things he had thought of as a waste of money like your little passion for dancing.

He had thought you would be wary of him at first but you were a sweet child. So sweet, almost painfully naive. It made Steve want to protect you from the entire world.

And that’s what exactly he did.

Despite Bucky giving him shit for it after he swore back and forth he wasn’t going to be one of those doting parents, maximum security was added in his family home, bodyguards shadowed your every move, even a secret team of agents that followed you wherever you go if he wasn't with you.

There were a few unartistic attempts on your life but he had nipped it in the bud before it could grow.

And he was successful.

Despite being the stepdaughter of the greatest man to ever live, your existence had nearly become a mystery to the rest of the world. Even with their best efforts, reporters and paparazzi could barely grapple an album’s worth of photographs of you unless he himself approved of it. The ones that did manage to snap one without his permission was dealt with swiftly.

(He wonders if enough time has passed for the rotting flesh of that one photographer that tried to sell bikini photos of you to be unrecognizable if he removes the shackles that held him down under the cliff of his property in Norway.)

What he failed to take in his calculations, however, is how he wasn’t able to protect you from the one person who served as the biggest threat to your innocence.

Him.

Slowly, his little need to protect his lovely stepdaughter from the horrors of the world turned into an obsession. An obsession in your every move, at your sweet gaze that he wants to be directed straight at him. He wants to own it -- own every beautiful piece of you and leave nothing else for the rest of the world

It didn’t help that you had been almost as attached to your stepfather as you grew into a beautiful woman. Hanging on to his every word like it was law, never questioning his motives even if it isolated you from your peers and sometimes even your mother.

“I like daddy the most,” you’d always say.

It makes him wonder if you could still utter those sweet words if he knew how much he liked you too -- how he likes you enough to want to keep you in a pretty golden cage just like his little dove.

“Alright, that’s your upper torso done,” Steve supported your side as you stretched your arms. You were easing your way into being more flexible, which meant a lot of slow but long and intense stretching where you need strong hands to keep your outstretched body in place. That’s where Steve comes in, his strength more than enough to keep you in place and test your limits if you have to.

“Bend down.”

Steve licked his lips.

His cock twitched in agreement as he gently but firmly pushed the base of your spine until your palms were flat on the floor, half of your body folded flawlessly.

“Hold it,” he made sure to give enough pressure to assist you, not only for your sake but also for his viewing pleasure. Bending down on the length of your body he gently pushed your palms closer and closer to your feet to deepen your stretch. He chuckled at your whine. “You’re doing amazing, sweet thing. Be a good girl and hold your position.”

Steve hummed in satisfaction when you nodded as best as you could.

“Ah, I know what the issue is.”

“Daddy!” you gasped, feeling your bra snap as Steve skillfully unhooked it with a flick of his finger, letting it fall uselessly on the ground. But it’s not like there was much that you could do while you’re currently upside down with his hand firmly holding you in position.

“It’s hindering your movement,” he chided, slapping the meat of your thigh to keep you in line. “Don’t raise your voice at me, young lady. You asked for my help.”

“S-Sorry, daddy. Yes, thank you.”

Steve took a single step back, letting out a near growl at seeing what he had expected to see when he chose this position for your morning stretch

The shape of your young, plump cunt, nearly tattoed on your thin, stretched out leotards and stockings.

“I-It’s starting to hurt --”

“A few more seconds.”

Carelessly, he flipped the sheer skirt covering his view, kneeling down on his knees so he was on the same level as your ever apparent core.

“I’ll push you a bit more.”

Carefully, he guided your flattened palms closer until you were holding your feet, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes in pleasure when a waft of your essence grazed his nose. His hand sneaking down from your waist into the curves of your ass, thumbs just barely grazing the edge of the lips of your pussy, even gently pushing and rubbing it together knowing you wouldn’t have the guts to call him out for it.

The wet noise your pussy made in agreement cemented your fate.

“Daddy, I can’t anymore --”

“On the ground, little one. Do the butterfly pose. We’re almost done.”

You seemed hesitant but followed nonetheless, sitting on the ground then innocently looking up at him who was towering behind you. His eyes however were in your pebbling nipples, fighting the urge to bite it till it bruised.

“You’re such a good girl,” he knelt down to press a kiss on your forehead. “Now stretch out your legs and give me a split.”

Steve smiled at watching you easily comply. Supporting your back with his chest and trapping you in between his meaty thighs, he placed two of his palms on your waist not missing the way you shivered as he rubbed your stomach with his warm, rough palms.

Slowly building up his innocent brushes until he was palming your tits and he had you panting like a bitch in heat in his arms.

“Your mother told me you’ve been having a hard time falling asleep, dove.”

“I-It’s just nerves, daddy,” you gulped, letting out small airy moans despite your best efforts. “Wanna make you proud.”

“I’m always proud of you,” he pressed another kiss on your temple. “But I can’t have you not getting proper sleep. Let’s get some nap after this, hmm? What do you think?”

“But I’m not sleepy,” you pouted.

A conniving smirk grew on your stepfather’s face. “Well, I know just how to tire you out.”

“Wha --”

“Reach in front of you,” he cut you off, pushing you by your backto lay your upper torso flat on the ground. Your pussy now, once again, vulnerable for his ministrations, just like he wanted.

A finger gliding on the length of your slit masterfully.

“Aah! D-Daddy, that’s --”

“Hmm?” his hold on the end of your spine didn’t waver, his index finger pressing harder on the tense little button he found at the top of your increasingly dripping cunt. “Didn’t you know, little one? Having an orgasm can not only help you relax, but it also makes you dopey and sleepy. Think it had to do with hormones and shit.”

You gasped, surprised both by his thick Brooklyn accent slipping out and by his crude language when you had strict instructions to keep your tongue clean as a proper lady should.

“But daddy I don’t think we should be …”

“Then stop thinking.”

Your toes curled, legs flinching uncontrollably at the pleasure that run up your body when in just a little pressure from his fingers he had ripped through your white stockings and plunged two fingers into your pussy.

“Pretty little things like you should just stay pretty and let their daddy do all the hard thinking, don’t you think so, little one?”

He didn’t let you form an answer, curling his fingers till it hit the spongy spot that had drool slipping out of your bottom lip, eyes rolling in the back of your head, as you whined.

“All you have to do,” he smiled as you screamed, the sudden intense orgasm exploding in your core had your entire body shaking. “Is cum.”

Steve grinned at your state, leg twitching, laying like a rag on the ground. Placing his soaking fingers on his mouth, he hummed in pleasure at your taste as he checked his phone to see a missed call and a text message from your mother.

‘Will be late but I’ll buy groceries for dinner, do you have any requests, darling?’

He snickered quietly, bending down and grabbing your limp body. Throwing you over his shoulder as you writhed and moaned from the excess pleasure still running through your body, hands desperately rubbing up his back hoping to find some purchase or comfort from him.

He typed out his response with one hand as he took you in the direction of the master’s bedroom.

He wasn’t done with you just quite yet.

'Suprise me. I love everything you make, honey.'

“Oh, has she slept the entire day?”

Steve looked up from the book he was reading in the reading nook of the master’s bedroom to the sound of his wife’s voice by the door before running his eyes back into your sleeping form in the middle of the bed.

“Were you not able to rest because of this? Sorry, honey, I’ll wake her up right now --”

“It’s alright,” he raised a hand, pleased when your mother immediately stopped in her tracks. “Why don’t you prepare dinner, I’ll wake her up by then. I’m sure the little thing’s wiped from practising.”

She seemed hesitant and maybe a bit confused as to why her daughter would choose the master’s bedroom of all rooms to rest but the gentle smile on her husband’s face was too sweet for her to try and ruin it with unnecessary questions.

“Alright.”

“Thank you, honey,” as unpleasant as it was, Steve even pressed a kiss on her cheeks.

He wonders if she can smell the drying juices of her own daughter in his lips. Cause he definitely could still taste whisps of it in his mouth.

Watching his wife go down the steps, his smile fell almost as quickly. He walked to the side of the bed to flip the weighted blanket that he had haphazardly thrown over you when he heard your mother’s car.

This time it brings a small but genuine smile on his face to see your little cunt still leaking his cum, globs of it on the bed. It’s almost too tempting not to change the sheets.

But it’s too early to get sloppy and get caught.

“Dove, wake up. It’s time for dinner.”

He should feel bad, especially with your pitiful whines that is probably due to your sore body, your poor little cunt taking the brunt of his frustrations. He had not been as nice as he had hoped to be but truly you only had yourself to blame for being a little minx and unconsciously seducing your stepfather to the brink of insanity.

“Daddy,” you whined, reaching your grabby hands up at him till he carried you out of the bed, reminding himself to clean it all up while you are in the bathroom. “Mom --”

“What did I tell you about thinking?”

Pouting, you rubbed your face into his neck, more than happy to answer “to let daddy do it.”

You were tired of thinking and worrying about it anyways.

Steve felt his chest puff, proud he already has you in the palm of his hand.

“Good girl.”

You were beautiful.

The world may have gone to shit, the tyrants may have remained in rule but you ... you were beautiful.

Finally, after years of fruitless searching, Steve Rogers has finally kept for himself something beautiful.

A beautiful little thing bouncing on his cock.

“‘S too much. You’re so big, daddy -- please.”

Your whines were music to his ears, your saliva and dripping sweat that ran the length of your naked torso like the driblets of water from an oasis that could cure his thirst. Your warm walls enveloped all of him until he felt like he could implode.

“Too much? But you’re doing so good for me, my dove,” he patronized you, gripping your waist to slam you back on his raging cock mercilessly, ignoring the way your eyes blanked as, just like in all the things you do, you let your stepfather take your reigns.

All you could do was make little noises as he uses you as his own fleshlight, the squelch of your drooling cunt and the slap of your skins filled the entire room with lewd noises as the two of you drowned in sex and sin.

“Cumming daddy, i’m about to cum!”

You know your daddy gets upset if you cum without his permission.

He had made it known, after all, that he owns every piece of you. Especially that delectable paradise you keep in between your legs.

“Yeah? Can feel your little pussy sucking on my cock like it wants something,” he grinned, flipping the two of you and pushing your legs to your chest. Trapped like a little bunny that was hunted by the big bad wolf. “Does it want something, little one?”

You sniffed.

He was so mean.

He knows you can never formulate thought’s properly when he was fucking you senseless but still he teases you endlessly. It strokes his ego so when you turn doe-eyed and dumb -- when he sees your beautiful face with his marks and your tears.

“Tell me,” he buried his entire length in you, despite your little pussy constantly fighting his intruding cock he continued rubbing it inside to keep you choking on your own saliva. “What does your greedy little pussy want?”

“Cum ...”

God, you are really so beautiful -- so perfect just like this.

“It wants your cum, daddy.”

Your quiet proclamation was the thing he needed to reach his end, burying his entire length till it hit the entrance of your womb, where he gave you exactly what he wanted.

The two of you grunted and moaned in unison as you reached your ends.

“Thank you, thank you,” your wavering voice muttered, despite being out of it. It seemed Steve’s training had paid off enough for you not to forget your manners even in your delirious state.

It’s been four years since this little affair started.

If he had thought of you as beautiful then he had not been prepared for the men he had to dispose of to keep you safe and in his grasp. The suitors were easy to handle but your mom’s insistence for her 23-year-old daughter to start dating, to "experience" the world, was a little trickier.

It makes Steve chuckle.

Your mother would go insane if she knew just how experienced her daughter already was in opening her legs.

“Daddy?”

Steve reached for the tobacco on the bedside table before acknowledging you with a glance.

“Do … do you think that did it?”

Ah.

He quickly killed his old habit, throwing away the fresh cigarette outside the open window where he hoped the growing rain would put it out for him.

“Hmm, I think that one did the trick,” Steve brushed his lips on your sweaty temple, gently pushing you with his body so you were flat on your back again as he sat and hovered over you by the side of the bed, his palms resting on your stomach where his firstborn would soon reside. “If not, I don’t mind trying again.”

You giggled, grabbing on to his wandering finger and pressing it into your cheeks as your sleepiness slowly consumed you. He really can’t blame you, you’d been at it for hours.

“But what about …”

“Shh, go to sleep,” he grabbed the discarded blanket with one hand, carefully covering your bare body with it. “We have nine months to worry about what to do with your mother.”

A small gasp from behind the crack of the bedroom door, and the small scuffle of poorly covered footsteps in the hallway however told him he might have to wrap things up earlier than he needed to.

Standing up, he was just about to take care of the last knot in his plans when your grip on his hand stopped him.

“Will it really be alright, daddy? I’m scared mom will … things might turn ugly.”

Ugly.

He scoffed.

His dove does sometimes like to think of the most useless things.

“As long as you’re with me, little one,” he took your hand and kissed the back of it. “I’ll make sure everything else will remain beautiful.”

“A beauty, isn’t she?”

His wife’s -- well, ex-wife’s muffled screams from behind the cloth he had shoved in her mouth was all the answer he needed. But he didn’t let it distract him from appreciating once more the blown-up painting of your bare, but professionally covered body in his secret little man cave.

The painting of his muse included skillfully painted vines and flowers covering your most intimate areas, but it only made it lewder enough that it constantly tempts him to brush over the leaves in hopes of seeing more of what it's hiding.

The memory of the day he painted it -- with you sprawled out on the very couch he was sitting in, giggling and whimpering at having to stay in position while your stepfather memorialized your beautiful body for his viewing pleasure -- brings warmth on his chest only you were able to pull.

The horror in his wife’s eyes as she stared at the paintint almost made him laugh out loud.

“You’ve raised her well. I guess I should thank you for that.”

Her desperate efforts to get out of the ropes Steve bound her in halted when she saw the glint of the gun in his hands from the light of the moon reflected on it.

“A mother and a wife, overwhelmed by the pressure and attention of being Mrs Rogers ran away in the middle of the night with her secret lover,” Steve narrated to her the plot of the story he was going to feed the press and to you when this night was over and the deed was done.

He even had a forged letter prepared and everything.

Tears and drool dripped down her face, making her look uglier and uglier in his eyes. Despite being the one who birthed you it constantly surprises Steve how irritating and hideous he found his wife as time passed.

It was unpleasant to look at, to say the least.

Especially to someone like Steve who was now only used to your beauty.

“Forcing a heartbroken husband and the young daughter she left behind to find love and comfort with each other,” Steve removed the safety of the gun, aiming it straight into her shaking form.

He paused, dramatically, breathing in as if he was taking it all in, “Thus Steve Rogers finally, after years of searching, found his true love.”

Standing up he pressed the gun into her forehead, grinning from ear to ear maniacally, deep into his delusions and deaf to her pleas for her life.

“Isn’t that such a beautiful little ending?”

AAAAA WTF THIS GOT WAY TOO DARK but I fuck with it. I think this is the first time i've written dark!steve so let me know what yall think!