#obsessive!steve

“it’s okay,” he soothes. his voice is gentle, but his grip is not. he holds you open, palm resting on your inner thigh, forcing you open. “let me see you.”

you’re whining above him. so embarrassed to be on display like this. steve’s your friend. when you went over to hang out, you didn’t realize this was on the itinerary.

but he pushed. kept asking invasive questions. kept closing the distance between you on his couch. put a hand on your thigh, letting his fingertips tickle the sensitive skin there. and then he’s on his knees in front of you, pushing your legs apart, just to play with you.

and you’re letting him, because you sort of love it. always wanted to fuck him, anyway.

“i’m too big for you,” he says regrettably. he’s spread your lips apart with his thumbs, staring wide-eyed at your opening. “look how tight — are you a virgin?”

he asked you that approximately twenty minutes ago, apparently as foreplay.

“shut up,” you breathe, trying to shut your legs again.

but steve intercepts with his elbows, keeping you spread, glaring up at you and shaking his head.

“you know how long i waited for this?” he asks lowly. “i’m not letting you go so easy.”

a thumb dips inward. it catches right on the edge of your hole, and he stretches it out ever so slightly before letting his finger slide away to the side.

“shit,” he murmurs, only to himself. his thumb moves back, and he watches your poor little pussy twitch and clench before sinking his thumb inside of you without warning.

“oh—!” you gasp, your back arching, the intrusion unexpected. but as quickly as he started, he stopped. your arousal is evident by the slick sound of his finger slipping out of you, leaving your hole winking again.

steve’s thumb gently works its way up to your clit. he only taps it at first, watching it pulse while you gasp sharply.

“so swollen,” he says. sounds sympathetic. “bet it’s sensitive, too —“

you’ve never heard yourself make the noise that he pulls out of you when his thumb begins rubbing circles into your bud.

There was music playing from somewhere close by. The song was familiar, but its sound was scratchy, grainy. The soft whir of some sort of machine accompanied its lyrics as you slowly regained consciousness.

Oh, my love…. My darling… I’ve hungered for your touch a long, lonely time…

You gulped even though your throat was as dry as bone, and your tongue felt almost papery as it darted out over your lips. The lighting of the room was dim and low, but your eyes stung nonetheless as they started to crack open. Your limbs were heavy, too heavy to move, and so you made neither movement nor sound as you gradually grew accustomed to wakefulness.

When you could finally make it out, you saw that the ceiling was high and made out of wood, and a ceiling fan was hanging from one of its many exposed beams. You blinked and furrowed your eyebrows as you turned your head towards the music, ignoring the rest of your surroundings until you found its source – an old, battered record player resting atop a dresser that had been shoved up against the far wall.

Your eyes darted around the unfamiliar space, cataloguing everything else within it silently. Plush rugs were scattered about the room, and atop them sat rustic furnishings. In the corner, there were two armchairs sitting in front of two bookshelves; the dresser and a wardrobe were placed on the opposite side of the space, and you were resting on a bed that was right in the middle, pressed against the back wall. There were several heavy blankets covering you, and the quilt sitting on top of the pile was made of soft flannel.

Panic started to seep into your veins, but you pushed it aside as you attempted to sit up. It was as if someone had attached 50 pound weights to the end of each of your limbs. Your movements were sluggish and stilted as you scooted around atop the soft mattress; it was as if you were drunk, but your head was too clear for that to be the case. Clear and confused.

When you were eventually sitting up, you pulled your legs to hang over the side of the bed. There were two doors that you could see. One of them was opened just a crack, but you could see white tile floors on its other side; you were willing to bet it led to a bathroom. But across from where you sat, there was a second one, firmly shut. That was where you were headed.

Taking a deep breath, you gathered what little strength you possessed and pushed yourself off of the bed. The second your feet hit the floor, though, your knees wobbled, and within moments you were falling to the floor. Your left elbow took the brunt of your weight, jarring your body so hard that your teeth clattered together.

“Fuck,” you groaned, rolling over onto your back. You didn’t need to look to know you’d be sporting a bruise soon.

You lay there, closing your eyes and listening to the record that was still turning on its player.

Lonely rivers flow to the sea, to the sea… To the open arms of the sea, yeah…

You had no idea where you were or how you’d gotten there. The last thing you remembered was falling asleep in your bed at home, but after that it was all blank, and you were starting to feel afraid. You needed answers soon, before your anxiety could get the best of you. But judging by how fast your heart was beating, it wouldn’t be too long before it sent you headfirst into a panic attack of epic proportions.

Before you could muster the will to try and stand up again, you heard a rhythmic sound coming from the other side of the closed door. It was faint at first, but then louder as it approached.

Footsteps.

You had no time to try and scramble away as a man barged into the room, his blue eyes immediately falling to your prone form on the floor. Your eyes widened as you took him in – he was a monolith of a man. Tall, built, sturdy – you could see his biceps bulging beneath the flannel he was clad in, straining against the material as he hurried over to you.

“Oh my gosh, doll, are you alright?” he fretted, kneeling down beside you. You tried to squirm away as he reached for you, but you might as well have been fighting against a tree as he resolutely picked you up.

“How did you get on the floor, baby girl?” he continued, placing you down gently on the bed.

You drew your knees up to your chest and inched away from him, narrowing your eyes.

“Who…” you croaked, clearing your sore throat before trying once more to speak. “Who are you?”

He shook his head at your question as he sat down on the bed, seemingly oblivious to your fear.

“Are you hurt? How long have you been awake?”

“Who are you?” you once more asked, ignoring his concern. “Where am I? How did I get here?”

The man sighed through his nose as he arched an eyebrow at you, and in the silence that followed you took the opportunity to study him.

A thick but well-groomed beard had grown out over his face, and his hair was dirty-blonde and of medium length, curling up at the ends as it rested just a bit shy of his shoulders. There was something familiar about him; you could’ve sworn you’d seen him before. You just couldn’t put your finger on it.

“You’re safe,” he finally sighed, snapping you out of your observations. “We’re in a cabin in upstate New York. I brought you here two nights ago.”

Your eyes widened once more, and when he reached out to set a hand on your knee, you drew away as if his touch would burn you.

“Why can’t I remember coming here?” you demanded, scooting as far away from him as the bed would allow. “And for the last time, who are you?”

“Before I tell you,” he started, holding his hands up in a placating gesture, “I’m gonna need you to calm down, ok? Take a few deep breaths; I promise you that everything is ok.”

You furrowed your eyebrows and hugged your knees tighter, but despite your barely-restrained panic, you did as he said. You closed your eyes and took a long, deep breath, inhaling through your nose and exhaling through your mouth. You repeated the process twice more, feeling your heart slowly start to beat a little slower, taking the edge off your fear.

When you finally opened your eyes, though, the man was sitting much closer to you than he had been before. It was enough to make you jump, and your heartrate picked up again when you saw the unsettling smile that had spread over his features.

“Good,” he praised, reaching out to set one of his massive hands on your shoulder. “Good job. Keep taking those deep breaths.”

You shrugged him off, desperate to put more distance between the two of you. But if you scooted any further to the left, you were sure to fall off the bed.

“Can you please tell me who you are now?” you murmured. Something was off with this guy; your instincts had been screaming at you from the moment you’d heard his footsteps, but the soft, borderline desperate look in his eyes now had them wailing at a deafening roar despite how familiar he looked.

“My name is Steve,” he finally told you, and then it all clicked into place.

“…Captain America?” you asked incredulously.

As soon as you realized it, it became so obvious. The beard had thrown you off at first, but there was no denying that this was America’s legendary hero. It had been a while since you’d heard anything about him. Apparently, he’d had a falling out with Tony Stark a few years ago, splitting the famous Avengers apart and turning them against one another. And then, after that, Thanos had come to Earth.

It was now two years after his devastating snap, and you’d almost forgotten about Captain America and the heroes of yester-year. But now you were face to face with him in a cabin that was supposedly in the upstate of New York.

The captain didn’t seem to care about your shock upon realizing his true identity, though. At hearing the name of his alter-ego, he’d rolled his eyes and looked down at the bed.

“Yeah,” he muttered, “I…used to be. But it’s just Steve now, doll.”

“I… I don’t understand,” you stammered. “Was I in danger, or something? Di-did you save me from someone; is that why you brought me here?”

He seemed to consider your words, turning them over in his head before piercing you with his gaze once more.

“Yeah,” he said. “I guess you could say that; I did save you from someone.”

“Well who was it? Did anybody get hurt-“

“I saved you from yourself.”

You paused, arching an eyebrow at him.

“I…don’t understand. How-“

“You were so…lonely,” he sighed. “You’d been on your own ever since the Snap, right? When I found you, I could tell that you’d lost everything, just like me. You just…floated through life. …It broke my heart.

“But it’s alright, now,” he insisted, leaning towards you. “I saved you from that loneliness. I saved us. Everything will be better now that we have each other.”

You blinked once, twice, before his words finally sank in, and you felt tears prick at your eyes as you came to the earth-shattering realization that Steve, that Captain America, had gone crazy.

That was what had seemed so off about him from the get-go; you saw it plainly now. The frenzied edge to his smile, the way his eyes were opened just a little too wide, how they focused just a little too intently on you. His hands were clenching and unclenching in his lap, unable to stay still as he watched you predatorily; he was completely unhinged.

“No…” You shook your head, turning away to climb towards the edge of the bed again. “No, no, no-“

“Sh, sh, sh,” he hushed, and before you could try and stand up, his arms were snaking around your waist and pulling you backwards towards him. “It’s ok; it’s ok…”

“Let go of me!” you cried, trying your best to thrash around in his grip.

But it was of no use; he pulled you into his lap and pinned your back against his chest. His strength was inhuman as he used only one arm to keep you in place; the other ran up and down your arm in a gesture you were sure he meant to be soothing. But as his fingertips trailed up your bicep and into your hair, you couldn’t stifle the sob that escaped your lips.

“No, no, no, don’t cry, doll,” he begged, running his digits through your tresses. “It’s ok; I’ve got you now. God, I love you so much.”

You froze upon hearing that word.

“…Love me? You… you don’t even know me,” you whispered, but he just chuckled, the sound rumbling lowly through his chest.

“Of course I do, doll. I’ve been watching you for over a year now.”

Your blood ran cold, but Steve carried on, oblivious to the terrified tear that was trekking down your cheek.

“I saw you one day at the memorial park, looking at the monuments they made for the fallen,” he started, leaning forward. You felt his nose bump against your scalp, and you felt as if ants were crawling up your spine as he inhaled deeply through his nose, taking in your scent.

“You were so beautiful; at first, that was the only reason why you interested me so much,” he went on. “But then I ran into you again at the grocery store, and I knew that there was something else about you, something special. After that, I couldn’t get you out of my head – I had to follow you. I had to figure out what it was that was drawing me in.”

You bit your trembling lower lip, and once more Steve shushed you before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. Whimpering, you tried again to free yourself from his grasp, but his arms didn’t even budge.

“Before I knew it, months had passed. Time got away from me a little while I was watching you,” he confessed. “But I was content to stay at a distance. You weren’t ready for our love just yet; it’s taken you a long time to heal from everything. But then… he came along.”

You froze at the sudden anger in his tone, and it scared you stiff.

“Who…? Who are you talking about?” you asked, jolting when a growl tore its way out of his throat.

“That punk who moved in across the hall,” he clarified. “He wanted to take you away from me; he wanted to touch you-“

“Drake? Drake is just a friend,” you insisted, squirming away from him. You twisted and pulled and finally, finally, managed to tear yourself out of his grasp.

Your limbs were still weak, but adrenaline was fueling your movements as you scrambled off the bed. You didn’t stick around to see if Steve was following you before taking off through the door he’d come in through. Bypassing the cozy-looking living room, fleeing past the kitchen, you saw the front door and made a beeline for it. But when you stumbled outside, your feet skidded to a halt.

Snow.

It was nighttime, but the snow gleamed and glittered under the moonlight. White covered the ground in a thick layer, and even though you were still under the protection of the porch’s roof, you started shivering as you looked out over the landscape before you. The only thing you could see were trees and bushes and the snow as it fell down in fat flakes. There was no car in sight, nor were there any neighbors. Just you and Steve and the wilderness.

“You should come inside, doll. It’s cold out.”

Gulping, you slowly turned around to find Steve leaning in the doorway, watching you with a sickeningly fond smile.

“I know this is a lot for you to take in,” he sighed, crossing his arms. “But we can take it slow; I want you to be happy with me. …All I ever want is for you to be happy.”

You sniffed as fresh tears welled up in your eyes, and Steve made a small, pitying noise as he stood up straight and stepped towards you.

“Aw, hon, don’t cry-“

You ducked the arm that he tried to wrap around you, staggering past him. You looked around the cabin frantically – for what, you had no idea. You just needed to be alone, away from him. You needed to think.

With a sob, you turned back to the bedroom, running past its doorway, past the record player, and into the bathroom. Your feet slipped on the slick, white tile, and you hit the floor hard, this time landing not on your elbow, but on your hip.

“Doll! Be careful; c’mon, I’m not gonna hurt you-“

You turned around and kicked the door shut before he could reach you, rising up onto your knees to slide the lock into place. As soon as it was locked, the handle started moving, and you scrambled backwards on your hands and knees as Steve pounded on the door.

There were three knocks against the door before everything fell silent, and you held your breath as you hugged your knees. The quiet was deafening; the only thing you could hear was your own heartbeat pounding in your ears and the muffled sound of the record player. But then, finally, there was a sigh from the bedroom.

“Fine,” Steve huffed. “Stay in there if you need to; I’ll give you some time to think. But I think we both know that this door can’t keep me away, doll. I’m letting you lock me out.”

There was a beat of silence again as he moved away from your door, and you almost missed the next words he mumbled under his breath.

“’Cuz I love you.”

You waited with bated breath for the sound of his retreat, and it was only until you heard the bedroom door click shut behind him that you let your tears start to fall.

_________________

There was no way of knowing how much time had passed. You’d sat there weeping quietly, wallowing in self-pity as you wondered how you’d gotten yourself into such an insane situation. Eventually, once the tears and the worst of your anxiety had passed, you’d moved over to the sink, cupping your hands to greedily drink from its tap until your throat stopped aching. From there, you mechanically gathered towels from the linen closet and spread them out in the spacious bathtub in the corner. Once it was sufficiently padded, you’d hauled your sore, tired body into it and curled up, burrowing your head in your arms as you contemplated your situation.

First, you thought about what you already knew. One, you were trapped in the middle of nowhere, with no knowledge of how close the nearest neighbors or town were to you. Two, Steve Rogers, a super-soldier from the 40’s, claimed to be in love with you. He’d gone so far as to abduct you just because you’d made friends with the guy who lived in the apartment across the hall from yours, so it was safe to say that three, he was insane.

Next, you established your goal – escape. But to accomplish your goal, you would need to form a plan. If he had a car, you needed to get the keys to it. If he didn’t you needed to convince him to bring you into town somehow. And if he had a phone, you needed to steal it and call for help.

You were quickly becoming too tired to think, though, and without meaning to you slipped into a deep, tired, dreamless sleep.

You could have slept for hours or minutes, but you still would have felt just as disoriented as you woke up to a pounding at the door.

“Doll? I made dinner; come out so you can eat.”

Drawing your blankets tighter around yourself, you pressed your back against the wall of the tub as the knob started turning again.

“Are you ok in there? Please open the door.”

You made no move as Steve pounded at the door again, and your heart leapt into your throat when you heard him heave a long-suffering sigh.

“Ok; you leave me no choice.”

A startled scream ripped itself out of your throat when the door was suddenly pulled off its hinges, and you clapped a hand over your mouth as Steve leaned it up against the wall. He glanced over at you as he wiped his hands on his jeans, making sure the door wouldn’t fall over before starting to saunter towards you.

“Sorry, doll. But I did try to ask you politely to come out.”

Steve knelt next to the tub, taking in the little nest you’d built for yourself with a look of amusement.

“You know, we have a king-sized bed in there for when you get sleepy,” he teased. “You don’t have to nap in the tub.”

You frowned, and his smile fell. With a look of disappointment, he combed his fingers through his hair before standing up.

“Come on; dinner’s ready in the kitchen.”

With that, he gently wrapped his hand around your bicep and helped you to your feet, and he surprisingly let go of you once you were out of the bathtub. He inclined his head, silently gesturing for you to follow him before he started walking out of the room.

You wanted to stubbornly crawl back into the tub, but you were suddenly hit with a delicious, succulent smell that immediately had your mouth watering. Your stomach growled loudly, and you huffed before placing your hand over it.

“Traitor,” you whispered to your torso.

You chewed on your lip as you pensively followed Steve into the small, warm kitchen. The table therein had already been set, and your stomach once more let out a wail once you spotted two plates piled high with spaghetti and meatballs. A small basket of garlic bread sat next to a bowl of pre-grated parmesan, and there were two empty flutes sitting next to a bottle of champagne.

“Have a seat,” Steve said, pulling a chair out for you.

Your eyes drifted down from his face to the chair he’d pulled out for you, and with a sniff you made your way to the opposite side of the table, pulling out the other chair and sinking into it. Steve sighed but raised his hands up in a sign of surrender before sitting down.

“I get it; you’re angry with me,” he huffed. “I can understand that. But maybe you’ll feel better if you eat. I promise it’s good; it’s my mom’s old recipe.”

Your eyes never left him as he began to scoop spaghetti onto your plate. His muscles flexed as he reached for the garlic bread next, picking up two large pieces and depositing them on your plate.

“The bread is just from the frozen isle, but hopefully it’s good too,” Steve continued on, his tone casual. You blinked at him incredulously as he started making his own plate, shooting you the occasional smile as he carried on, seemingly oblivious to how crazy the whole situation was.

Eventually, your hunger got the best of you, and you stopped staring at your captor long enough to pick up your fork. The food, you begrudgingly admitted, was very good, and as you ate, you studied the cabin, trying to take in all possible escape routes and objects that could be used as a weapon.

“So.”

Steve’s voice made you jump, and your eyes snapped back to him. He had already finished his food and was currently leaning back in his chair, twiddling his thumbs as he watched you.

“What’dya think of the cabin? It’s cozy, right?”

You didn’t answer him, instead just sighing and setting your fork down. You eyed the glass of wine that he’d poured for you; truth be told, you would love a drink right now. But you didn’t want to let your guard down by getting tipsy; you needed full awareness to make it out of this.

Steve sighed before leaning forward, placing his elbows on the table as he considered you.

“Doll, c’mon. You gotta talk to me eventually.”

“…What would you like me to talk about?” you slowly asked him, voice still hoarse. “The fact that you kidnapped me? Or the fact that you’ve been stalking me for upwards of a year?”

The only indication that your words affected him at all was the small tick of a muscle in his jaw. His eyes didn’t so much as darken at your tone, but you could tell his teeth were clenched together.

“How did you like the music? I tried to pick out some records I thought you’d enjoy.”

“You won’t get away with this. Eventually, someone will find us,” you taunted him. “And when they do, I’ll tell them everything.”

His lips pressed together, and with a clang, his fork dropped to his plate, but he made no move as you pushed your chair back.

“Honey, please,” he sighed, clenching his fists. “Just calm down, ok? There’s no need to be so confrontational. Try and finish your food-“

“I don’t want to finish my fucking food!” you cried out, pushing the plate away from you. “I want you to let me go, you freak! You-“

Your words dissolved into a startled scream when Steve’s fist came down on the table. The loud bang it produced was accompanied by the sound of splintering wood, and your eyes darted down to see a deep crack running along the table right where his hand had struck it.

“Watch your fucking language,” he growled. “I am trying to have a nice dinner with you, and I’ll be damned if I let you speak to me that way under my own roof. Calm. Down.”

In the moments that followed Steve’s outburst, the only sound you could hear was that of your own breathing, fast and scared and impossibly loud within the heavy silence that had fallen over the table. Tears welled up in your eyes as the captain stared you down, and you didn’t dare say anything until he looked away.

“…Sorry,” he finally murmured. “Just… Finish your food, please. I want tonight to be nice. For both of us.”

You felt your blood run cold at his words, but you were too frightened to do anything other than what he’d said. With a shaky hand, you picked up your fork and mechanically began twirling spaghetti onto it once more, not daring a glance up at the man seated across from you.

“Thank you. How is the food?”

“…Good,” you whispered. A tiny voice in the back of your head said, fuck it, and without further thought you took a sip of your wine. And then another. And then, before you knew it, your glass was gone and Steve was pouring you another.

“That’s my girl,” he praised. The words made the wine feel sour in your stomach, but you hurriedly took another sip to calm your nerves.

Once you were finished with your meal, you sat back and cautiously met Steve’s eyes. He gave you a warm, close-lipped smile before leaning across the table, laying his hand out palm up. When you made no move to hold it, he stood up with a grunt, and as he rounded the table you felt a spike of fear stab through you.

But he only knelt down beside your chair, snatching your hand and cradling it between his own.

“I don’t want you to be afraid of me,” he breathed. “That’s why it took so long for me to do anything except watch you. But I… I love you, doll. I need you more than I need to breathe.”

He paused, looking down at your hand. As he brought it up to his lips, you suddenly realized just how potent the wine was; your senses were starting to feel foggy at the edges, and his skin felt like a furnace as he ran his fingers along your palm.

“I know it’s crazy,” he mumbled. “I know I’m crazy. But with everything that’s happened… I’m way past caring. I needed you.”

“I…” Your voice trailed off, and with uncoordinated limbs you pulled yourself to your wobbly feet.

“I need to go lay down,” you slurred, but Steve only smiled, standing up and pulling you against him.

“But the evening’s only just begun,” he purred.

It was then that you realized that being drunk didn’t feel like this; the alcohol didn’t explain the heaviness of your limbs and the static in your brain.

“What…What’s in the wine-“ you stammered, weakly struggling against his arms.

“Shhh,” he shushed you. “Shhh, it’s ok. It’s nothing that’ll hurt you. And you won’t pass out or anything. I just…didn’t want you running away again. All that stress isn’t good for you, you know.”

You let out a quiet whine as he picked you up, carrying you bridal style into the bedroom. You could no longer move; in fact, you could barely keep your eyes open as he set you down on the bed. But your heart still leapt in fear when he pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead.

“Wait here for just a minute,” he said, as if you had any choice. “I wanna do something with you.”

Your body slumped back against the cushions as he turned to the record player, and you watched out of the corner of your eye as he placed the needle over a new track. The sound of an old-fashioned jazz band immediately filled the air, quickly accompanied by Ella Fitzgerald’s familiar, sultry voice.

Stars shining bright above you…

Steve’s arms were wrapping around you once more, and your head spun as he lifted you upwards. He maneuvered you carefully, adjusting your limp arms until they were draped over his shoulders with a patient smile. Your feet dangled, occasionally bumping against his shins as he held you aloft, beginning to sway back and forth with the tempo of the music.

Night breezes seem to whisper, ‘I love you…’ Birds singin’ in the sycamore trees…

Dream a little dream of me…

“I remember when this song first came out,” Steve whispered against your ear. “I always knew that I wanted to dance to it with a woman I loved someday.”

You closed your eyes as tears started dribbling out of them, staining his flannel as Steve swayed with you in his arms. This was so fucked up, so insane, but you were helpless to every one of his sick whims.

Stars fading, but I linger on, dear…

“Still craving your kiss,” he softly sang along, his voice so quiet that you almost didn’t hear it.

He danced to the rest of the song in silence, never loosening his grip on you, and even when the music stopped, he still swayed with you in his arms. The scratching of the needle against the finished record was almost drowning out the frantic beat of your own heart, which only grew faster as Steve carried you back to the bed.

He laid you down gently, making sure your head was supported by plenty of pillows as he kneeled over you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he muttered, pushing an errant stray of hair out of your eyes. “You’re all I ever think about, you know.”

Your eyes widened slightly as one of his hands started creeping up your thighs, and you weakly made a noise of protest as he started prying your legs apart.

“I know, baby,” he cooed. “I know. But I need to show you that you don’t need to be afraid with me. And I’ve already waited so…so long…”

His body shifted until he was kneeling between your spread legs, licking his lips as his palms started inching upwards under your shirt.

“You’re probably not ready for all of me just yet,” he mused to himself. “This is already a big adjustment for you. But…”

He tilted his head, eyes skimming down to the pajama shorts you were still wearing from your house. It seemed like forever ago when you’d gone to bed in your ratty old apartment, alone and totally oblivious of the horrors to come.

Your head lolled to the side as Steve suddenly gripped the hem of your t-shirt, and you willed your arms to fight back as he started taking your top off. But the most you could manage was a slightly twitch of your fingers as he pulled away the shirt, tossing it to the floor before letting his hands greedily cup your breasts.

“Fuck,” he groaned, rolling them beneath his palms. “I knew they’d feel perfect. You’re so soft…”

His fingertips left goosebumps in their wake as they traced down your chest, skimming over your nipples as they traced a path to your stomach. You squeezed your eyes shut, and a muffled sob escaped your lips as he started pushing your shorts down.

“No, no, it’s ok,” he insisted, pressing a peck to your cheek and pausing in his movements. “It’s ok, doll. I’m not gonna make love to you just yet. I just want you to loosen up a little.”

He gave you a soft smile, rubbing circles against your hip with his thumb.

“I want you to see how good I can make you feel,” he breathed. “And I wanna make you want me the way I want you.”

Pretty soon, you were completely bare beneath his demanding gaze, his blue irises flitting up and down your body as he drank you in.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve seen you like this,” he confessed. “But you’re so much better up close, baby.”

He leaned forward, hesitating a second before pressing a chaste, almost shy kiss to your lips. You could feel his smile as he pulled away only to capture another kiss once again, this time letting his tongue dart out to swipe over your lower lip. His teeth felt sharp as he sucked on it, nibbling and worrying at your lip until pulling away a few seconds later.

The callouses on his fingertips felt rough against the inside of your thighs, and you squeaked when you felt him grind his hips against you, his jeans the only barrier between you and his hardness.

“See what you do to me?” he chuckled, pushing your hair back to whisper against your ear. “You have no idea how many times I’ve cum thinking about you.”

His lips descended onto your neck, sucking bruise after bruise in a bright purple trail down to your collarbone. One moment, his teeth would be biting you so hard that you cried out, but then his tongue would be lathing over your flesh in a way that almost drew a moan out of you. But you were too afraid to get caught up in the pleasure behind what he was doing.

Your lack of response didn’t seem to both him, though, as he dipped his head, pressing a kiss to your sternum before cupping your tits between his hands. He leaned down, capturing one of your nipples between his lips and starting to suck on it. The noise of his tongue dragging along your flesh combined with your quick, ragged pants in a staccato rhythm that matched his hips as they continued grinding against you. Unbidden, a moan escaped your throat, and you wished you could take it back the minute you saw a wide grin spread over Steve’s lips.

“See?” He crawled back up, cupping your cheek before kissing you once again.

“I told you I’d make you feel good,” he murmured. “It’s ok to enjoy this; it’s ok to love me.”

His eyes sought yours out, a flicker of vulnerability rising from their depths.

“Please love me,” he whispered.

Even if you’d been able to fathom a response, you were unable to do anything but look up at him pleadingly, silently begging him to stop, to let you go and end this madness. But if he understood what you were trying to convey, he ignored it, once again crawling down your body until he was face to face with the apex of your thighs.

A grunt escaped your throat when one of his fingers traced your pussy lips, and you were horrified to hear how wet you’d become.

“Fuck,” he breathed with a soft laugh. “You…you do want this, huh?”

You tried to summon the strength to shake your head, but it didn’t come. Instead, all you did was lay there as his digit drew a line from your entrance to your clit. Steve’s other hand came up to spread your legs wider, shoving your thighs apart as his finger descended once again.

“I’ll take care of you, dollface,” he promised, eyes focused on your pussy. “Don’t worry; I’ll take care of you.”

You made an embarrassingly high-pitched noise as he slid his middle finger inside you, slowly dipping down into your core until he was knuckle-deep. Shame washed over you as you listened to the squelching sound of your pussy, and automatically your walls clenched around him, sending shocks of unexpected pleasure through you.

“Ah, god,” he moaned, thrusting his finger a few times experimentally. “So tight. How are you so tight, baby? Hm?”

He licked his lips before leaning forward, and you whined when you felt his breath ghost over your folds. And then his tongue was delving past them, lapping at your clit at a slow, even pace that immediately took your breath away. Your fingers twitched, aching to grip onto the sheets or his hair or something, even though you knew you were powerless.

A second finger was added to the one still inside you, and another stilted moan left your lips as he started thrusting them, dragging them tantalizingly over your walls as his tongue started circling your bud. Your eyes blinked shut, and you tried to fight against the rising pleasure building up inside of you. But it had been so long since you’d done this with anyone, since anyone had touched you like this. You’d been so touch-starved since the Snap, and so alone, and Steve’s fingers were grazing against that one spot inside of you so perfectly. His tongue was velvety against your clit, and your mind was buzzing with how good it felt.

His words echoed in your head you felt the orgasm swelling up within you. It’s ok to enjoy this, it’s ok to let me love you. I love you…

His tongue left you as he ventured a glance up, and you couldn’t help the small noise of protest that you made at the lost contact. He grinned mischievously, increasing his fingers’ pace as your eyes popped open. A louder moan ripped itself out of your throat, and he chuckled as your eyes started rolling back.

“You’re mine already, aren’t you?” he growled. “Look at how much you want this; you need me. Admit it.”

Your mouth hung open as the knot inside of you tightened, but you needed something more to send you over the edge. You needed his tongue on your clit again; you were desperate for it. All thoughts of morality and fear were gone in the face of your pleasure, and you whined as Steve started to slow his pace.

“Say it,” he commanded. “I won’t let you cum until you tell me you need me.”

You gulped, your head rolling to the side as you tried once more to shake your head; you could barely blink your eyes open, much less speak. But the hard look in his eyes left no room for debate, and one particularly hard thrust of his fingers had you babbling what you hoped were coherent syllables.

“N-need y-oh! Need you, S-steve, please, pl-please-!”

That was, evidently, good enough for him, because in no time his head was between your legs again, his tongue placing fast, light kitten licks to your clit. You bit your lip so hard that you tasted copper, but you couldn’t even register the pain as pleasure wrapped you up once more in its tendrils. You panted for breath as your pussy clenched around him, and when he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked, you were gone.

You cried out as your orgasm washed over you, your voice raspy and tired. Your body felt as tight as a bowstring despite its temporary paralysis, but slowly you began to relax. Or at least, as much as you could with Steve still lazily lapping at your pussy. He licked up your cum as he watched your face, his pupils blown so wide that his eyes almost looked black. You shivered at the sight, feeling ants crawl up your spine at how possessive the look was.

When he finally did pull away, his beard glistening with your juices, you were completely spent. Sleep was threatening to overtake you, and you were so exhausted that your fear was settled to a dull roar as Steve crawled up to lay beside you.

“You were so good, doll,” he praised. “And you tasted so good… I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”

He pulled your hair to the side, pressing a kiss first to the column of your throat and then to your lips as he pulled the covers up around the two of you. His arms snaked around your waist, and you could feel that his cock was still hard as he pressed it against your hip.

“Tomorrow we’ll talk some more,” he whispered. “But for now, just sleep. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

In your tired state, you couldn’t tell if his words sounded more like a promise or a threat, but you were already slipping into sleep when he kissed you one last time.

“I love you, doll. And I ain’t ever gonna let you go.”

______

steve who has been enamored with you since he met you but had to act cool about it. playing the long game if you will. then one night, during a game of spin the bottle, you kiss steve. and you tell him how much you liked it and that perhaps you’d like to kiss him some more. so you do, much to steve’s delight. he’s kissing you and holding you like he won’t let go, because he really doesn’t want to.

you tell him you don’t want anything serious, but that you wouldn’t mind seeing him casually to hook up. which is very devastating to steve but whatever, he can be patient if it means he can have you. he just has to wear you down with that harrington charm!

steve’s already in love with you, but it gets more and more obsessive with each rendezvous you have. he doesn’t ever fuck you. he makes love, kissing you softly, treating you like something beautiful and fragile. like you’re something he owns that he doesn’t want to break. even when you ask for more, he’s cautious. you’re his precious angel and he doesn’t want to even risk hurting you!

and he keeps thinking about spending his life with you. how if he makes the right moves, stays patient enough, he can have you. and he wants to be a good boy!! but he keeps having dreams of coming inside of you, of knocking you up, starting a family with you. he knows it’s fucked up - he has known his obsession is fucked up - but he can’t keep pushing those feelings down anymore.

steve needs you.

so when you’re under him, gently making out, steve nuzzles his nose under your ear and asks if you’ll let him try something. and he pulls away and sort of pouts and says he loves how you feel through a condom, but he would really love it if he could feel you. pretty please? he promises he won’t cum inside of you. he knows to pull out. he isn’t crazy. he just wants to feel close to you. don’t you want that?

you look at him for a long moment. he’s giving you these soft eyes, still pouting. and he’s been so nice, and you really trust him, so you nod and tell him he can, but he has to be careful. you joke about not being ready for kids and steve literally feels like he’s been shot.

he has other plans for you.

he gasps when he enters you. you’re so hot and tight and wet. he’s only ever felt you raw with his fingers. this is an entirely new experience. and from the very first thrust, he’s hellbent that you — and your sweet little pussy — were made for him.

you cum first, of course. and you lay there with a pretty blissed out smile while he makes love to you. but he’s starting to lose his composure. you feel so good. and he’s can’t stop thinking about you with a ring on your finger. he’s getting louder and louder, whining, brows furrowed.

“remember,” you pant, reaching down to press your palm against his lower stomach. trying to make sure he pulls out.

steve loses it. he can’t control himself. he’s finally fucking you. groaning at the cries that fall from your lips. he leans into you, moaning, your arms wrapping around him and nails digging into his back.

“steve!” you gasp. “p— pull —“

he doesn’t want to hear it. his thumb swipes at your clit, already overstimulated. you gasp, back arching, eyes rolling.

“oh, good girl!” he laughs, ecstatic. so fucking happy. his pretty baby coming for him while he’s about to fill them up.

and it’s even better than he imagined it.

you come together. you, with your legs shaking, your nails digging into his shoulders hard enough to bleed. you shout something, but steve can’t hear another over the hot pulse of his heart pounding in his ears.

he cums inside of you. can’t stop coming. harder than he ever has. his whole body shakes, tears springing from his eyes. he smashes his lips against yours, muffling your wails while you tighten around him again.

perfect together.

he pants when he pulls back. your cheeks are tear streaked. you look at him, eyes wide, in shock.

steve’s big hand splays out on your stomach. he looks down at it, then grins at you.

“look so pretty all full of me,” he says softly. “didn’t that feel good?”

you blink up at him, dazed and sniffling.

“it’ll be okay,” he soothes, brushing his thumb over your cheekbone. he drags a tear along your soft skin. “wouldn’t be so bad if it takes, huh? then we’d always be a part of each other.”

he kisses you again, softly, cock softening inside of you.