Your Mark on Me, Part 14
Summary: Steve should have paid attention
Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader
Rating: explicit
Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, teasing, unprotected sex, PIV sex, hard sex, mirrors, creampie, threats, I'm sorry for the pain I have caused, 18+ ONLY
Word Count: 5K
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*dividers created by @firefly-graphics
Steve gives you a warm smile, watching you as you bashfully eat your food. His eyes follow every movement your hand makes before you drop your fork and try to give him an angry look, “Doesn’t look right on you, Dovey.”
“Stop watching me. You eat,” it’s unnerving how he watches you. Like he needs to memorize everything about your movements. Every moan that whispers off your lips as you eat, every happy dance you do, and even the way your eyebrows reflect how your feeling with each bite. He is obsessed with your very being.
“I already have,” he lowers his eyes, motioning towards your fork before you slowly put another bite in your mouth. Dragging out the utensil at a snail speed. Sucking on the metal hard before it pops out of your mouth, “It would be better for you and that soaking wet cunt between your legs if you didn’t do that. That’s your only warning.”
Oh, you love a warning and what happens when you don’t listen, “Don’t threaten me with a good time,” you tease. Hoping that it amps him up even more.
“Ha,” his voice bellows up into the cabin and you drop your fork. Crossing your arms over your chest as you glare at him. You weren’t the same girl he met a year ago. You were a woman that could fully take and survive Steve Rogers. “Aren’t you just the prettiest little bratty slut. You really want to see exactly how I can punish you for your behavior?”
“I’ve been spanked before,” you remind him with an edge of defiance. Shimmying your shoulders a bit as you start to smirk at him. You have been able to take everything he’s shoved your way. “I wear my badge of Steve’s Dove proudly. Been marked and forbidden for anyone to touch. Would you have claimed me if I couldn’t put up with your menacing ways?”
“I’m a menace now, am I? Tell me, Dovey, who am I a menace for?”
“You’re a menace Steve Rogers, but not to me. All I see is a fool completely in love with me. And my pussy,” you emphasize ‘my’ before you launch out of your seat, and start to run through the cabin. “So in love with me that you will chase your girlfriend around this cabin laughing.”
Steve would never say the words, but he won’t stop you from feeling his emotions. You did make him a fool for you. He would never have been caught chasing you around with the brightest smile on his face. He didn’t even want to catch up to you just yet. He hadn’t felt this way in years. Like everything was just right in the world. In his world. And all he wants is to laugh and have fun with you.
“Oh, Stevie boy,” you smile, spinning around to look at him before you pull apart his button up. Giving your shoulders a shake so he can see your tits bouncing around, and he stops just to gaze upon you. “Not tempted?”
He shakes his head no, but he can’t ignore the shuffle he does with his pants. He is such a horn dog! “What about now?” Cocking up one of your eyebrows you cup your breasts. Keeping your eyes on his, as you start to pinch and tweak your nipples, “Now?”
“Not quite,” liar. You start to undo every button slowly before letting it fall into the floor, and he hisses through his teeth. His eyes drape over every inch of your skin. His gray sweatpants start to tent, and he still wants you to believe he’s not turned on.
“Really? You want to keep chasing me through the house?”
“I’d rather see you try and crack me. That’s what you’re poorly attempting to do, hmm?” He can try to deny it, but even the way Steve speaks is different. Gone was the harsh language. He still had a filthy mouth when he was inside of you, but now he is creating a different Steve. One just for you.
He glances hungrily over your naked body before walking over to the couch. Sitting down smoothly, and even acknowledges his aching cock by rubbing over his swollen pants. Smirking at you while you want to gawk. “You’re craving me, huh, Dovey? You want that sloppy cunt to be hugging this?” Those meaty fingers grip over his covered girth, and you let out a sound that is more animalistic than human.
“Make me lose control. Make me want to show you my cock that is yours for the taking. What is my little cock slut going to do?” You take a step towards him. Trying to be sexy as you saunter closer, but he holds up a finger, “Eh eh eh. Earn your seat on this throne.”
“How?” There’s only a flicker of a moment of Steve going soft. But that twinkle of an eye is gone and replaced with an evil sneer. “Captain?”
“Use your imagination. What do you think I want more of in the world,” how are you supposed to think when your pussy is throbbing. A low hum sounds through your brain and pulses through your entire body. There is only one thing on your mind, and that is you want him to fuck you. You don’t want anything sweet. You want to be destroyed. Since he’s going to be out all day. You wanted to feel him when he left.
Taking a deep breath, you softly close your eyes. Trying to recall a moment that you were the most vulnerable to Steve? When did he feel his own need to destroy you? To own you?
Like a movie playing in your mind, you open your eyes with a grin. If you were going to be destroyed, so was he. You take a deep breath and pretend the trauma that night didn’t happen. Thinking back to when that night was sexy. To the moments of Steve struggling to look at you or your reflection. He couldn’t even figure out what the best view for him was.
Nakedly walking over to the wall, you look at him through that mirror. Biting on your lip as you lean forward. Spreading your legs and sticking out your ass, so he gets a glimpse of your weeping cunt. Feeling more empowered as he adjusts himself. His chest rumbles out a low growl, and you grab both sides of the mirror.
Leaning over it low and slow as you lay it on the floor, and you look at him over your shoulder before straddling the mirror. Shimmying your hips from side to side, and his eyes move to the reflection to stare at your spread pussy. “Do you remember, Captain? You made me watch you fuck me with your gun? Had me coming all over it while I stared at my body taking every bit of what you were giving me?”
“Dove,” he warns as you start to kneel down. Getting down on all fours before you lean forward, and his Adam’s apple bobs with just how uncomfortably hard he is. His cock out of his pants, and he fists it slowly. Beads of precum leak onto the crown of his cock and you whimper. You can already feel him pushing into you.
You are ready to drool with the way he strokes his cock. Knuckles so tense trying to replicate the feeling of your tight walls. Wagging your ass before your hand goes in between your legs, and you gently run your hand through your velvety folds. Your moans match Steve’s, and you dip even lower, using your fingers to spread yourself out, and Steve’s grip gets even tighter.
“I know what would feel better, Captain,” you coo, moving your fingers to push into your warmth. Mewling as you watch him fight the pleasure that is right here. The stairway to heaven is steps away from him, and he was denying himself the greatest high he could ever imagine. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”
“And what’s that?” His eyes are black pools of lust. Mouth hanging open as he watches you fuck yourself. Pulling out your fingers you spread them apart, and he gulps as strings of your arousal stick to the appendages, creating a beautiful webbing of your honey. “You’re soaked.”
“Soaked and ready to be fucked. Filled up with your cum. And I get to watch all of it. Watch how my body morphs to accommodate that big fat cock of yours. Have you ever had a pussy as tight as mine?” He shakes his head no, and you adjust yourself to have your front flat on the mirror. Face on the cold glass as you look back at him. Wiggling your ass and watch him sweat.
“It’s all yours, Captain. Whatever you want. And you know you want it. Want to fuck me so deep and hard that I feel you in my throat. Feel you for the rest of the day, and feel empty because you're not inside of me. Like what you see?”
He stands up, and lets his sweatpants drop down to the floor. His cock is angry and red as he walks over to you. Sinking to his knees, but still he stares at your needy cunt. Inspecting your hole before he spits down on your puckered hole. His warm saliva drifts down your seam before it, and possibly your slick, puddles on the mirror below you. Thick, wet, and sticky. Just the way Steve loved it.
You whine. Pushing your ass into him. Desperate and needing his touch like you need the air to survive. Rocking your body into him with so much desire that you could almost come undone like this. “Please, fuck me. Own me. Destroy me. Kill any desire for another man’s touch.”
“There will be no other man,” he grunts, railing his veiny cock into you so hard, and so deep you see stars. Nails scratching on the carpet as he impales you. Giving you no time to adjust, just raw and dirty fucking, and you go outside of your mind. The pleasured pain surges all the way to the tips of your hair.
Unadulterated euphoria that you have never felt before. This is fucking. A careless need to get off like the animals you were underneath all that humanity. Pulling out the most salacious sounds out of your mouth, and you’re a mess. He is implanting himself into the blood that courses through your veins with every hard thrust into you. Exploring parts of your body that you are sure he has never discovered.
His fingers dig into your hips with such force, but all you feel is fulfilled. He could use you. He could have you. Every last bit of you, and you would still beg for more. Searing himself into your body more than the tattoo could ever do. Choking out your sounds of ecstasy, and he goes harder. Deeper.
His eyes go between where the two of you connect and the reflection. Watching himself burrow into your body like some predator. Leaving behind a trail where his cock is rooted in your body. The vulgarity of seeing your body take him fully like that makes his balls tighten up against his body, and he spanks your ass to help him focus on going harder. Faster.
Crying out into the cabin because your belly tenses up. Heat centers into your core as your juices start spewing out onto the mirror. Filled up with Steve so much that there’s no room for anything else. Nothing but wet skin on wet skin. “You're perfect, Dovey. Perfect for me. My greedy little slut takes me like no other woman. Every inch of my cock is inside you, and every bit of my soul is owned by you.”
You clench your eyes shut as the pleasure becomes too much. Your body goes limp and pliant for him as he spears into you so hard you lose all control. His hands are the only thing keeping you upright. “You’re mine.”
“Mine.”
“And I’m yours,” one more hard and particularly deep thrusts hits you so deep that you travel to another plane of existence. A plane where Steve’s body is bare of all his markings and scars. A place where he is whole again. Your body is able to purify him. Cleansing him of all the turmoil that made him who he was. And you get the innocent man that you deserve.
The love you’ve craved to hear from him, you see it in these moments. He was different with you and for you. Nothing has ever been more clear in this plane than the fact that Steve was irrevocably in love with your bratty ass. It was going to be a hard life, but life would never be worth living without him in your life.
His hands go rigid on your hips as he blows his load deep into your belly. His hold softens as he lowers your body flat to the mirror. Letting his softening cock fall out of you, and you whine at the loss, “Shh,” he starts to pick you up, but you lift your ass up into the air. Getting back on your knees.
His eyes drift to your gaping hole, and he watches his cream dribble out of your body before drops land on the mirror, mixing with your juices below our body, “You’ve ruined me, Dove.”
“Good. We’re equal now.”
“We are,” he agrees, continuing to watch himself leave your body drop by drop. A masterpiece if he had ever seen one. “And I love it.”
“You asshole,” you snort. You didn’t even care to try and get him to say those three words anymore. You were content with him giving parts of himself that he had never given anyone else.
“I was going to say you were my best friend, though. Does that help?” It does. Steve didn’t trust easily, didn’t throw around words like best friend lightly. He meant it. And that means more to you than eight letters.
“It does. Now put me to bed, best friend.”
You are equals.
Steve walks into the club a little taller. Shoulders back as he struts in front of his people. Giving a few nods to them before he makes his way into his office. He has no intention of spending an entire day here. He left you satiated and sleepy, and he would love to get back to you.
He wants to spend less time here, and has even continued to think about what Bucky said. He is getting older, and things were getting more dangerous with Rumlow, and whatever Peggy was cooking up. Her time would come soon enough. You don’t double cross Steve Rogers and get away with it.
He is beginning to think about a future that doesn't include this business. Ways to spend the large quantities of money he had made with illegal bullshit. And none of them were without you. Houses in different locations, preferably at the beach so he can watch you walk around in next to nothing all the time. Maybe catch a glimpse of you dripping of ocean water and laying in the sun.
That is what life is about and seeing Bucky content with his choices had opened up Steve’s eyes a bit more. He’d give this one more year. The longer in the game you had the riskier things became. The more power you owned the more people wanted to steal it away from you. And now they had the perfect tool to hold over Steve’s head for ransom. You.
It became too clear to him that you were his everything. This life didn’t matter. The money didn’ mean a damn thing if he didn’t have you to spend it on. And a family. It looked good on Bucky. He’d never seen Bucky happier, and the desire he had to not just fully claim you and connect you to him forever with a legacy that was both of you hit him directly in the heart he thought had been nothing but ashes. And yet he is feeling things he thought were a fairytale.
You awoke something in him he thought he had lost years ago. Humanity. Passion. Fear. Need. A reason to not just survive but to live. All in this perfect human that he didn’t want to miss a single second with. And there is nothing that he wouldn’t do to keep you alive. Alive and living your life to its fullest potential. He needs that for you more than he needs it for him. His life and soul was burned years ago, but you were the beauty in his dark world.
A world that didn’t deserve your light, or the power you could wield with that light. You are remarkable. And you are his.
His head tilts towards his door as Sam walks in. His brows furrowed and they sit low on his face, “I need you to sit down,” Steve starts to respond, arguing about being told what to do, but in Sam’s calming and deep timbre, he tells him again, “Sit down. You need to see this, it’s about Dove.”
Without hesitation he moves to his chair that Sam points to, and he’s met with a computer screen of his home. He looks up at Sam curiously before the other man pushes play for Steve. The video is a bit distorted, but it was taken this morning. Watching your beautiful body walk into frame, and the teasing show you put on for Steve.
A part of Steve wants to smile at how amazing it is to relive this moment until he realizes this isn’t the location of his security cameras, “What. The fuck. Is this?” His fist pounds on the desk, viewing one of the most intimate moments he has ever had with you. How you made yourself completely vulnerable to him. Trying to erase the night that he branded you as his own in the most humiliating way. You retrieved that moment back this morning, and someone saw it.
“Skip to the end,” Sam answers flatly.
Steve reaches towards his keyboard, and skips towards the end where there’s a camera change. This one in your bedroom as he carries you into the bed. Laying you down and kisses all over your worn body. A moment so pure and perfect and it was stolen from him. Kissing over your heated skin until you completely fall asleep, and it pans over to the floor, and some stupid envelope. Staying on something so unimportant that it highlights the words that he utters, and Steve stands up just as the screen goes black.
A mechanical voice vibrates deep into Steve’s core and he seethes. This moment wasn’t for anyone. Not even for you and it was stolen out from under him. A threat. A fucking threat that makes him see red, and ready to light the world on fire, “You’ve been warned.”
With an angry growl, Steve grabs his computer off the desk and hurls it into the floor. Turning to stomp out of his office and back where he came from. “Steve?”
“How the fuck did you get this?”
“It was emailed to us.”
”You saw and heard fucking nothing. I will destroy whatever asshole did this. And I will start with Lark! But I need to know what my goddamn warning was. FUCK! That night Lark was there, did anybody come into the house?”
Sam stares at him a moment. He knows he should have told Steve sooner, and this wasn’t going to go well. “The footage was tampered with,” Steve bellows out a scream that is feral. His face becomes beet red and all he wants is you. “There’s about three minutes missing from the feed.”
“Shut it down.”
“Steve?”
“No one goes in or out of here until I get to Dove. All phones confiscated. I want Natasha to get eyes on Rumlow immediately. You didn’t see or hear anything!” Emphasizing the last word before storming off.
No road laws are followed as he races to get back to the cabin. His phone propped up with a clear view of you dancing around in your little shorts. He should be coming home to you with a smile, and instead it's anger and anxiety. To see you move about with so much joy pains him to know someone had put you at risk. You’re not going to understand. You couldn’t. Not with what was captured, and he wouldn’t explain it.
Slamming his car into park he stomps up the steps, and you run to greet him, “Hey, Captain,” you give him the brightest smile. Happy because you had already missed him. This morning was perfect, but then you see his face, and you frown. “Steve?”
He doesn’t say a word as his long strides carry him to the bedroom with a few steps. Walking right over to the envelope before he picks it up to rip open. Teeth clenching harder with every line before he crumples it and the contents up, and stares out into space. So many things run through his mind, and a part of him dies. The part he was finally getting back completely burns up, and the ashes start to blow away with the wind.
“Steve, what’s going on?” The sound of your voice hits deep into his soul. He had made a private vow to never see you hurt. And you sound hurt. And it would only get worse. Already hating himself, but one look at you, and the thought of anything happening to you is worse than death. He would rather feel the pain of torture than this. The thing worse than death is to ever see anything happen to you.
“Steve?”
“We need to pack your bags. We’ve gotta go,” his voice is lifeless as you switch the weight of your feet. Something was wrong. Off. It feels bad. He says your real name, and your lip starts to tremble. “Either you pack you some bags, or I will.”
“Are you packing a bag, too?” He wasn’t. But if it is what it takes for you to not crumble right now, it’s what he would do. You see the tenseness in his body, and want to scream at him. “Steve?”
He gulps, standing up to walk towards you. Cupping your cheek, he presses a sweet kiss to your lips, but it’s like he’s seeing right past you. “If you’re going to kiss me make it mean something,” Steve’s hands move to your ass, and he picks you up. Making you wrap your legs around him as he holds you so tight. Deepening the kiss, and you melt into his skin. Holding onto him like you are going to lose him.
Feeling every bit of the love he has for you through this one kiss alone. A kiss that reminds you that he is a man that acts instead of says. And what he says is often a lie. His words never match his actions. He pulls away and sets you on the ground before walking towards the closet. “It’s not safe for you here. Do you want to help me pack your things or not?”
Sighing you decide its best to help him. Even if he thinks he knows what’s best.
Sitting on the hotel bed you curiously watch Steve on the balcony. He spent more time avoiding your eyesight and smoking a joint than he did with you. Today should have been a good day. It started off magical, and ended in — this. Confused wasn’t even the word you would use. Hurt? Maybe.
It’s like playing a game of tug-o-war and you know you’re about to lose. All this pushing and pulling you and Steve have been doing this past year made you feel like you were winning, but now it’s like he is ripping the rope right out of your grasp. Something was off and you didn’t like it. The feeling just festers inside your gut and you want to lash out at him.
He hadn’t kissed you again. Hadn’t so much as been sweet to you. It was mostly this; his back pointed towards you. He was avoiding something. And that something is you or something to do with you, and you hate it. You try and take deep breaths as you glare at his beautiful broad back. You had three bags of things, he had a small duffle bag. He was not staying as long as you, and he was lying.
“Steve Rogers, you’re a goddamn coward,” he takes a long drag of his roach, and still doesn’t look at you. Doesn’t acknowledge you said anything. “You could at least tell me the truth since I walk around with your fucking mark on my fucking neck,” sure add in some colorful words and make him want to punish you.
“You’re the biggest coward I have ever met, and you still won’t look at me,” you watch, ready to take the punishment as long as he looks at you. “Look. At. Me,” your words are harsh and spit through your teeth. You need him to feel the panic that is settling in your body. Putting out his joint, he slowly turns to look you in the face and his eyes are haunted. “Look at me!”
“I am.”
“No, look at me! See me. See all of me,” you scream, pulling off your clothes. “I need you to fucking see me, and you tell me what the fuck is going on!” he twists his neck again, and a sickening pop runs down his spine. “What the fuck are you going to do about my fucking attitude and using this fucking language, huh? Fuck you, Steve Rogers. Fuck you,” adding emphasis you throw up your middle fingers, and he sprints towards you.
Picking you up and he throws your now naked onto the bed. His thick body goes in between your legs, spreading you out and with one hand he messes around with his jeans. Struggling to get them undone, so you reach up and help him. “You see how wet my fucking pussy is from pissing you the fuck off?”
“You better shut your fucking mouth, Dove,” finally. It is violent and intense, but he said the nickname you have grown to adore. Ripping off his shirt, he spits down to your hole. Steve’s hand grips onto his member before he runs it through your slick. “You’re such a fucking slut,” he grits out, soaking his cock in your wet heat.
“Then you better fucking do something about it,” he growls low. Gripping each side of your cheeks with his thumb and fingers before he slams into you. Taking your breath away and rolling your eyes into the back of your head. You pissed him off. Good. “Fuck you! Fuck you, Steve!”
There’s no care in the way he pistons into you. Fucking you like you were some random whore that he was using to get off. Cheapening whatever this bond is between the two of you. Something is off. “Fuck you,” your voice loses the edge to it. It hurts, and not in a physical way. He’s tugging harder and harder at that rope, attempting to take it away completely.
“Fuck you,” your voice now a whisper as he fucks you harder. Still not meeting your eyes. Clenching his eyes close, and it kills you. “Fuck you. I hate you.”
“Good,” you let out a strangled sob with that one word. Giving up as he rips on that rope harder. You are losing your fight, and he was removing every bit of the rope from your hands, “But I’ll make you this promise, Dove. I promise that you will feel me etched in every part of your skin. That when you fuck another man that you still feel my cock buried deep in your body. So deep you can’t escape it. Every time some man looks at you, you remember the way I made you so weak. You’ll hate the ground that those men walk on because they’ll never be me. You’ll crave my touch and the way that I stretch you out.”
The rope is pulled completely out of your hands, and you lie below him, limp and in so much emotional pain you’re numb. His motions, and his words still don’t stop. They cut so deep that tears pour down your face. “You’ll never escape. And no man will ever make you feel the way that I do. I have left my mark on you so deep that you’re forever changed. You’re not longer that girl that I made my slut.”
“I hate you,” uttered words that mean nothing to him. Hate is just as strong as love, and you despise that you feel for him so deeply during whatever the fuck this is. You want to feel nothing for Steve Rogers, and still you feel everything.
“And you, sweet Dovey, have left your mark on me, too,” he pulls himself out of you, and you let out a strangled no as he spurts his cum on your stomach. The last fragment of the rope gone from your finger tips as he comes on your stomach just like a slut, “Don’t call me. Don’t look for me. Don’t reach out to me.”
“I’m just your whore now?”
“You’re nothing. You mean nothing. There’s money for you in one of your bags, I’ve paid for your troubles. Create a new life and forget this,” still he can’t meet your eyes as he removes that rope, and out of your hand and grasp. There’s no emotion in his words. They’re so monotone, and you hate him. But you want to erase every bit of him instead. Nothing could ever hurt as worse as being made to be a paid for slut to Steve Rogers.
“You’re goddamn liar. Spoken like a true fork tongued lying bastard!”
You let out the fiercest scream you can muster, staring right at him, but he robotically dresses himself, throwing a towel over you, “Clean yourself up,” he whispers before he walks out the door and out of your life.
A coward if you have ever seen one.
And you were a goddamn fool.
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